#I hope you enjoyed it!

[shou-jpeg]

-Back on the Beat-

Part 4. 06

One year later

November 19th, 9:50pm 

Kim hits a high note and the crowd goes wild. 

He’s sweaty and high on adrenaline, approaching the end of his largest show yet. 

It’s only a few hundred people, but it’s also a sold out show, and Kim still feels a little overwhelmed with that knowledge.

Porchay is in the crowd. 

He had walked into their apartment five weeks ago and announced to Kim that he was going to celebrate the end of his first year of university by devoting himself wholly to being WiK’s #1 fan; a job he then applied himself to with as much, if not more gusto than he applied himself to studying medicine. 

He looks ridiculous right now, dressed head to toe in unofficial, homemade WiK merch. He’s also holding a handmade sign above his head and Kim has to stop himself from smiling like an idiot every time he looks over at him so his fans don’t start rumours.

They'd agreed to keep their relationship on the down-low, for now. Only while Kim builds his audience, since being single sells.

He holds Chay’s gaze throughout the entirety of the song they wrote together and the people around Chay are definitely noticing. Kim isn’t doing a very good job at being subtle, he thinks.

Oh well. 

He’s exhausted, but he raises his arms over his head and makes a heart with his fingers to thank his audience as he closes the set. The crowd goes wild once more and Chay is giggling into his hand over something.

He’s so cute. 

He’s probably laughing at Kim though, Kim thinks warily. 

~~~

A few days later, Chay announces that a photo of Kim from his concert is going viral on twitter and is doing wonders to boost his popularity both nationally and internationally. Something about people thinking he’s cute?

Kim considers how much he can press and the wary way the bodyguards back at the compound look at him when he walks past. 

He’s definitely not cute.

Porchay won’t let him see his phone though, and he can't be bothered to check himself.

Whatever. So long as it’s getting him good reviews.

May 23rd, 6:05pm - a few months earlier

“I think Jimbo likes you more than me now.”

Porchay scoffs. “That’s just because I’m the one who feeds him most of the time. You’re always out these days, being all popular and in demand. What will we do when you become proper famous?”

“You don’t like having a popular boyfriend?” Kim pouts, turning to look at Porchay from where he lies on the bed, watching him play with their cat. Porchay only moved in last week, yet he’s taken on being a cat parent like nothing else. Kim has barely even cleaned the litter this past week. It’s been a weird disruption to his daily routine, but it has given him a lot less to worry about with his increasingly erratic schedule. 

He released the song they wrote together last month and it hit the national top 10. He’s had three different studios reach out, wanting to sign him. 

Kim tries not to think about it too much; it’s too overwhelming, how good he feels about it. The bars he usually performs in are starting to become too small for the crowd that he draws. 

He should probably hire a manager. 

Porchay looks up at him. “P’Kim as your biggest fan, I could not be more thrilled to be dating my idol. It’s like I’m living inside of a fanfiction.”

Kim hums, hesitant.

“Does that mean we get to live happily ever after?”

It’s way too soon, they’ve only been together six months. Kim was ready to spend his life with Chay from the moment Chay unblocked him, but he’s pretty sure there are rules around these things. 

Kim isn’t good at this. Porchay told him so himself… though he was smiling at him fondly when he did. 

He’s smiling that same smile at him again now. 

“Yeah,” Chay says, soft. “We get to live happily ever after, p’Kim.”

February 10th, 9:28am

“I want to study medicine.”

Porsche looks at him with almost comical surprise, and Porchay tries not to laugh at his expression.

They’re out at their new weekly brunch date together, and Chay has been waiting for the right moment to bring this topic up. He’s spent a lot of time over the past few months, both on his own and with Kim’s help, figuring out what he wants to do with his future. He’s feeling pretty confident in his choice, but he hasn’t even begun looking at universities yet and enrollments are coming up soon. 

“I’m not sure what field I want to specialise in yet, but I’ve thought a lot about it and medicine feels like the right direction for me. I should have at least a year of classes before I have to choose my field - I want to feel it out a little and see what feels right for me. I was hoping you could help me look at university courses?”

Porsche puts his fork down and settles back, serious but obviously trying to hold back his glee. “Of course, Chay. We can get you into any university you want.”

“No!” Chay interrupts him, “I want to get in on my own merit. I only want help finding a good course… please…”

Porsche smiles at him, big and wide and happy. “You can do it! Come around here, let’s start now!”

Chay gets up and moves around to join Porsche on his side of the table, bringing his phone with him. 

“Okay, so I’ve already been looking at a couple courses. Tell me what you think, hia…”

February 6th, 11:39pm

“What about some sort of doctor?”

Porchay looks up at Kim. 

They’ve been going through lists upon lists of career ideas and quizzes and self help guides. It’s been nearly four hours and Porchay really shouldn’t have been as surprised as he was with the seriousness and intensity at which Kim approached the task. 

Kim loves solving cases and sorting through things. It’s something Porchay discovered recently, and even though the topics themselves sometimes aren’t so cute, the way Kim gets when he has something to solve in front of him definitely is. 

He reaches over to smooth the little furrow between Kim's brows. “What kind of doctor?”

“I don’t know. You said before that you wanted to do something to help people, but didn’t put your own self at risk.” He's right, but it’s also a little left field. All the results from Porchay’s quizzes have pointed him in the direction of something creative, and they haven’t done much research outside of creative careers yet. 

Doctor. 

Porchay thinks about Porsche and his new, scary job. He thinks about Kim and his tendency to push himself too hard. 

He thinks about Khun, and Kinn and all the bodyguards.

Doctor. 

Yeah. Something about that feels right.

January 26th, 10:45am

It’s their two month anniversary and Porchay is nearly jumping on his heels as he waits in the lobby of Kim's building. Kim approaches slowly, trying to look cool and not at all as nervous as he feels inside. 

Chay has been secretive about today, only telling Kim to keep his schedule completely clear. He's been distracted every time they've seen each other over the past couple of weeks abd Kim has had to put a surprising amount of effort into not trying to suss out what Chay has been planning for them. 

An effort that proved even more challenging when Khun's crytic texts began rolling in even couple of days.

Of course it turns out Khun was on the money with everything. As usual.

“You never use it, so I stole it back the other week and made you this.”

November 28th, 10:35am 

“I’m a little nervous.” Chay is sitting across from him, boba tea in hand and a light flush to his cheeks. 

They’re at their usual boba tea spot, but it’s also their first date.

Kim is feeling the same. 

“Mmmm.”

Chay laughs at him lightly. “P’Kim! Are you nervous too? You’ve hardly said anything since we got here.”

Kim takes a moment to consider, looking up from his tea at Chay’s slowly growing smile. 

“...mmmm.” Chay laughs loudly enough that a few people around them turn in their direction. Kim smiles. 

Success.

THE END

< Prev - First - Extras >

Playlist

#kimchay #kinnporsche #kim theerapanyakul #porchay pachara #porchay kittisawasd #i want you bach au #i want you bach au part 4 #this epilogue/end thing has been giving me such a hard time #mostly because im sad it's over ): #thank you for reading! #I hope you enjoyed it! #very likely: more to come (but not story. just pieces)

[osamusriceballs]

The Accident - Part XII

Atsumu x fem reader

Warnings: Kissing, mentions of an affair

Words: ~ 1,8 k

About: Problems in paradise.

Part I II -> Next Part

You're about to kiss Atsumu Miya.

You feel his lips brushing against yours, a feather-light touch that makes you hesitate and freeze. He stays still, not pulling back, but his eyes slightly open when he senses you're not moving further. Your faces are only inches apart, your breath meeting his lips when you exhale shakily and a shiver runs down your spine when you feel his lips brush against yours again. A frown clouds his face, and he suddenly tilts his chin, pressing his lips harder against yours, coaxing you to join in and to come closer. Your breath catches before you surrender to the kiss, the tension between you rising as you slowly move your lips with his.

You barely notice his hand in your hair as a he guides your face to his direction, deepening the kiss effectively while his lips move ever so gently against yours. Your hands come to rest on his chest, warmth radiating through his shirt and you can feel his heart beating strongly under your palm. Every thought vanishes when he opens his lips, his tongue brushing against yours, making you gasp a little at the sudden action and you willingly open your lips for him. Your fingers tightly grip his shirt, and his other hand hesitates on your side before wrapping around you firmly when he notices that you make no attempt to back off, and he pulls you closer until you're caged against his chest.

Your body feels ablaze, mind hazy and your thoughts foggy, as the kiss intensifies. You're barely able to catch your breath in between the kisses, but you're both not willing to pull back, but instead get lost in each other's taste. A tingling sensation runs through your body, heat building between your legs and you slightly press your legs together to relieve some tension. A part of you wants to feel more of him, to sit on his lap to press yourself harder against his body while you keep on kissing him. Does he feel the same?

His movements slow down, and he pulls back, effectively ending the kiss between you. His face lingers close, wide pupils, reddened cheeks, and a teasing lick over his lips draws your eyes downwards. You almost lean in for another kiss, your whole body feeling like its on fire and singing with need for him. His arms release you, creating distance, and you quickly withdraw your hands from his body and scoot back to your original place, almost sitting on Atsumu's phone while you do so.

"I think that's... sufficient for the dare." He clears his throat, his voice a bit raspy, and you nod with a strained laugh. For the dare. It's just an entertaining game for him- and now things are getting awkward.

"Uhm, yeah. But uh... it's kind of getting late? I think I should go." You quickly get on your feet, avoiding looking at him while you make a beeline for your shoes at the entrance. You can't believe that you kissed him- or he kissed you- or you both kissed each other, it doesn't really matter at this point.

You can't deny that it felt good. Really good. Atsumu Miya is a great kisser- and you don't know what to do with that information. You don't even know what he feels for you- are there even feelings involved from his side? Or is this just a game for him?

"You- y/n, ya don't hafta-" You hear him get on his feet quickly, running behind you and standing next to you while you tie your shoes. "I didn't mean to- it was just a dare-"

You freeze for a second, feeling like he just punched you. "I know. It's not- we're not." You clear your throat and raise to your full height, realizing that he is so close to you- way too close for you to think clearly. Worry clouds his features as he looks down on you.

"I didn't - I'm sorry. I shouldn't have kissed ya for a game. I kinda overstepped things." He scratches the back of his head and you notice that his ears are pink which makes him look adorable- but now it only makes your heart break when he apologizes for kissing you. What did you expect? For him to instantly tell you that he likes you after the kiss? That he somehow feels just as attracted to you as you're attracted to him? You can't deny that he has a part of your heart already. His kindness, his charm, his dorky humor- it all makes your heart flutter like crazy when you think about him, and you can't help but to imagine a possible future for you.

But now you're almost certain that he is just looking for some fun. A game. That's what you are for him. He's just looking for someone to kill his time and it seems like you're here just for that. You curse yourself for letting traitorous hope caging your heart.

"Please don't sweat it, it was me who started it, I should apologize. It was just a game, right? Just some fun. Everything's fine between us, don't worry. We're married after all right? A kiss is definitely not the weirdest thing that has happened between us." You force a smile on your lips and grab your bag, effectively creating some distance between the two of you. You wish that everything's okay, but it's not. He weakly lowers his arms, appearing somewhat hurt at your words, and you feel guilt in the pit of your stomach. "Are you sure? I can drive you home. Ya wanna eat dinner together tomorrow? Ya said yer free." You simply nod without really taking in his words and turn away from him. "I'll find my way out, don't worry. Sleep well, Atsumu."

He looks like you've punched him again, but he finally nods when you grab the doorknob. "Sleep well, y/n."

You just hope he can't see your watery eyes.

xxx

"What do you mean, you kissed and ran away?" Yachi's voice comes delayed through the phone, probably because you're in the elevator. Your first instinct was to grab your phone and to call her, the distress in your voice evident while you told her what had just happened.

"It was a dare. We didn't kiss like that," you clarify, but your voice is still shaky. You feel overwhelmed, unable to process your feelings. You both kissed, and you basically ran away from him, not even asking about his feelings. What does he think about you?

"Wait—I thought you two were alone. Who dared you to do that?"

"An app."

"So you kissed because of a teenage app?" She gasps and you can vividly picture her face with a shocked expression when she repeats the words.

"That sounds like an excuse." She adds, and you can't help but to nod.

"It's... complicated," you finally admit, struggling to put your feelings into words.

"Why did you run away?"

"I got scared. He said it was just a dare. I felt like it was a game for him."

"Was that before or after you ran away?"

"Both. He even repeated it two times." You put a hand over your face and sigh.

"He may have wanted to put you out of the uncomfortable situation."

"I... I just don't know how I feel about him. I really liked the kiss, but I can't read him. He wants to meet me tomorrow though."

"He asked to meet you again? Y/n, go talk to him now! Get back and ask him about it! I'll kick your ass if you leave like that. Seriously y/n. I know it's a lot, but you can't just leave like that." She sounds like she's on fire while she scolds you, and you shrink into the wall when you realize that you might have wronged him here.

"You're right. I'll go and talk to him. Clarify things. Tell him how I feel." You inhale deeply and push yourself off the wall with newly found determination. You can always trust on Yachi to have your back.

You look up when the doors of the elevator suddenly open and hastily click on Atsumu's floor number while another woman gets with you into the elevator. You smile politely while you still hold the phone against your ear and nod as a greeting, and she smiles back, revealing a smile that is so perfect that it could be straight out of a commercial.

"Call me when you're done! Don't just leave him like that. You like him and I'm sure he likes you too." Yachi's words encourage you further and you smile when you thank her.

"Thanks. I'll call you." You hang up the call and put your phone in your bag, noticing in the corner of your eyes that the woman next to you has stopped smiling. You frown when you suddenly notice her red shirt with the number 21 on it- similar to Atsumu's shirt. It's without a doubt a fanshirt of Atsumu, you're certain about that after looking at it for a few more seconds. A fangirl? A glance to the display shows you that she wants to go to the same floor as you- and your heart suddenly drops when a suspicion arises within you.

You catch her eyes again, and she raises an eyebrow when she notices that you're staring at her shirt. "Are you a fan? I could get you an autograph if you want one." She breaks the silence and you stare at her with widened eyes. "You- you know Atsumu Miya?"

She laughs and plays with her long brown hair- and you don't fail to notice how pretty she is. She could be a model with her looks, that's for sure. And she knows Atsumu. "Honey, let me tell you. I have Atsumu Miya in the palm of my hand. I don't want to ruin your fantasies, but he is not as single as he appears on social media." She gives you a wink and you freeze. "You okay? You look a bit pale, darling."

Your chest feels heavy and your stomach turns at her words. There is no way. This can't be true. "I'm fine. No, I'm not a fan. But thanks for the offer."

The elevator opens its doors and she exits, waiting for you to come out too, but you can't move. It's like your body is glued to the floor, weighted down by the sheer thought of Atsumu and the beauty before you being together- for whatever reason.

"I forgot something downstairs." You reply and mechanically push the button of the ground floor. She just shrugs her shoulder and moves into the direction of Atsumu's door, not even sparing you another glance while she strides away. If you had any doubt about her words, you were now certain that she knows him when you see her halting at his door before the elevator doors fall shut.

She knows this place. She's going to his apartment in the middle of the night. While the elevator smoothly runs down, you come to the conclusion that you apparently don't know anything about Atsumu.

The only thing you certainly know is he not only has you as his official wife.

But Atsumu Miya also has a girlfriend.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #atsumu #atsumu fluff #atsumu x reader #I'm a bit late #with... this #I'm so sorry T.T #but I had to think about this part soooo much #I had different options for this in mind #but I finally decided on this one #THE HEARTBREAK IS REAL #I hope you enjoyed it! #thank you for reading this #and keeping up with the series #it really means a lot to me <3 #LOVE YA SO MUCH <3

[imperatorrrrr]

Nico Nolan but like a moving on fic (as Nolan unfollowed Nico on ig)

Nolan is about to soft launch his retirement or maybe its hard launch his retirement.

All he knows is that in a couple of days the hockey coaching and mentorship organization he's now working for, working with as a Skills Specialist is going to launch and the world is going to know he's a "retired pro".

He feels a little restless about it. He's putting a demonstrative end to his National Hockey League career. Closing not only that chapter, but basically shutting the book with a heavy lock and key, and tossing the book and the key into the ocean.

He needs to do something about it, but he doesn't know what. Some sort of ceremonial end. Maybe some pomp and circumstance. Something. Maybe he should grab a beer or something.

He settles for opening up Instagram for lack of anything better to do and the first thing he sees is Nico Hischier's stupid, perfect, face, standing there.

It's a fucking watch ad. Of course its a fucking watch ad.

Nolan's this close to chucking his phone away, but he stops himself, so maybe its not some big, official thing, but its symbolic as fuck.

He clicks through to Nico's profile, gives one final scroll through, stops at the picture of them at the 2017 Stanley Cup game, opens it up.

Sees himself. Sees himself when it was all about to begin. When anything could have happened. When the world was in front of him. Everything at his fingertips. And sees Nico standing next to him.

He zooms in on himself and Nico. Nico and Nolan. Nolan and Nico.

He catches himself staring, fondly, and clicks out of the picture, back to Nico's profile.

He scrolls back up to the top.

And sees this Nico. Nico Hischier, Captain of the New Jersey Devils. Nico Hischier, Frank J. Selke Trophy Finalist.

This isn't his Nico anymore. This hasn't been his Nico for a while now.

And he isn't that Nolan anymore. There's a whole new world in front of him and there's something different at his fingertips now.

He clicks "Following" and sees the "Unfollow" selection at he bottom of the screen.

He closes his eyes and sees Nico from the draft, baby faced, smiling wide at him, eyes crinkling, and this Nico of the past says "Do it, Patty."

And Nolan does it.

#Ask #Anonymous #Text #NicoNolan #1319 #New Jersey Devils #Philadelphia Flyers #Las Vegas Knights #Writing #Prompts #actually funny story Anon there's an idea thats been in my head for like six months about Nolan getting stuck in a freak snow storm #and having to crash at Nico's place for the duration of it and he sees Nico now as Captain and with this Devils team #and its what he needs to kind of heal and move on #with some fun dynamics between the new people in Nico's life and Nolan #but I'm actually really happy with how this one came out #I hope you enjoyed it!

[socheckitout-mikey]

Can you do a curly shepard headcanon where you are the curtis sister and you are having a secret relationship with curly

heya! i'm so glad to see people requesting more curly bc i don't see much written for him. i love that we get to know more about him in That Was Then, This is Now. i know this is probably not you were expecting, but ig it's just my own personal opinion on someone being a curtis sister and dating curly. if it was more of a general reader then i would've made it much different. (: <333 - mae

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Being a Curtis Sister and Secretly Dating Curly Shepard Hc's:

° Your brothers are insanely protective of you, which means that they'll always have an opinion when it comes to your s/o, no matter who it is. Honestly, they just want the best for you, which means no bums or hoodlums: A.k.a anyone like Dallas Winston, Tim Shepard or Curly Shepard are off limits! 

° You weren't a stranger to Curly Shepard, having seen him around school and with your brother's gang, but most often because he would hang out with Pony and the gang in the vacant lot, kicking a football around. So y'all were friendly at least by this point.

° As I've mentioned before, Curly isn't canonly smart at all and began flirting with you in front of your brothers and gang: Each of their heads turned to Curly lightning fast! He got cussed out and almost beat the tar out of as if he was complete filth for pulling a move like that on you.

° In fact, Sodapop was definitely the worst of the bunch because of the quick bursts of anger he experiences often. He's the most protective of you other than Darry and doesn't think anyone is good enough for you. That was the day that Curly Shepard knew better than to do such a dumb thing in front of your brothers. It was also the day that he developed a big thing for you, as he saw you as a challenge worth acquiring. He does dumb things all the time, not having much courage. However this time he went in impulsively, knowing he had to have you.

° It was also the day that you saw him in a new light. You'd always listened to your brothers, however, now you felt that a little fun behind their backs wouldn't be so bad…

° Surprisingly for not being intelligent, he's actually really good at flirting. He's got a smoothness to him, a recklessness that won you over quite quickly and the rest seemed to be history! Well, except for the fact you had to keep this on the down low even from Dallas because this is the one time he'd snitch on you. He wasn't even keen on Curly being a match for you, having pulled you off to the side on the front porch after Soda had to go on a long ass walk that night Curly tried pulling a possible move on you.

° "Listen kid, I don't think it's such a hot idea. Curly's an alright buddy for us guys, but not for you, ya savvy?" Dally said, drawing in a deep breath as he smoked.

° "Really? You too?" You looked amused, eyebrows raised, almost miffed. “I know what ‘not for me’ means. You think I’d date him, don’t you?”

° "It ain't cruel, but to save ya a lotta trouble. We all want what's good for ya, kid. You know that right?" 

° "Yeah sure."

° “Now don’t get mouthy with me, kid!” Dally said real stern and mean, his eyes like two hot coals.

° You nodded, backing off from the topic which caused him to smirk a little and ruffle your head playfully.

° It all becomes a massive secret from the moment it starts, but Curly makes that challenging when he's literally so mouthy and such a bad influence on you. You've never quite been a goody goody, but Darry has always been stricter on the likes of you and Ponyboy than on Soda, which makes you resentful. Despite being a year younger than Soda - making you around Curly’s age.

° But even you drew the line one night when your brothers and gang were all out and Curly turned up at your window drunk. You rolled your eyes as he hiccuped, sat flat on his ass on the dirt outside after falling the short height from your window sill. He was bitter as you snorted at him, miffed he’d arrived. That was the one and only time he ever tried something dumb like that. You chewed his ear in for weeks! Didn’t let him live it down for awhile after either.

° Canonly Curly is sort of a coward in the sense that he’s all bark and no bite. Unless his gang is there. He acts like he’s not afraid of what your brothers and their buddies will do to him once they find out, but for now he’s enjoying the ride while it lasts.

° He thinks it’s a good idea to put on shows sometimes to make you crazy with jealousy, because Curly can be a bit of a dick, but he realises it’s just not worth all of the hassle.

° God forbid when he inevitably goes back to juvie. You’re understandably emotional, but you can’t exactly tell your brothers why you’re so upset. You try hiding it but Soda’s really good at reading your non-verbal cues.

° Curly is definitely not the best influence on you, probably causing you to become more reckless and mouthy. It’s a wonder that you haven’t been stopped by the cops by now. Darry and your brothers probably hold an intervention when it gets worse. Curly will goad you to do stupid shit.

° Inevitably your brothers will discover this secret. It was Two-bit who found out, and although he didn’t like to be a snitch, the talk he had with you didnt go so hot. Your promises ended up being empty and he got worried. Two has a soft spot for you since you remind him so much of his kid sister. With his grey eyes gone sombre, he came clean to Darry who blew his top immediately when he picked you up from school. Man you hated Two-bit for a while.

° Curly got into shit himself from Tim and the gang. It didn’t end well, but it didn’t ruin the gang's ability to back the other up.

° I’m sorry to say it but once they find out, everything is over between you and Curly. It just isn’t happening. Not under Darry’s roof and you don’t have the dough to get your own place, not whilst you’re still in school that is. You’re most likely grounded for a long time too. You so much as get caught speaking to him and you’re in big trouble. Darry is a momma bear!

° Sodapop tried to understand but he feels betrayed that you didn’t trust him enough to come clean. You guys are close like that. He gets over it quickly, albeit a little sore.

° Pony comforts you a lot in his gentle way. He doesn’t really get it but he takes your mind off of things by taking you to movies.

° Overtime you realise your brothers and their friends were just looking out for you. Curly isn’t really the cream of the crop. He’s not striving for much and has a pretty messed up police record. Darry reminds you that you dodged a bullet, but you still don’t exactly see Curly the same way he does: You still are fond of him, sneaking him glances and smiles. Hell, you even snuck behind their backs in order to talk with him: He dug it, but you knew it hurt him. You never realised he dug you like that.

° When you parted ways with somewhat understanding, you kissed his cheer. “Goodbye, Curly. You take care’a yerself!” He still remembers your honey sweet voice and the way you looked so good walking away from him.

° (I totally know that this is probably not what you wanted to hear, but it’s just my own personal view. Although Ponyboy is friends with Curly, calling him a good kid - Curly kinda has a rough streak. The Curtis boys would react the same if even Dally or Tim tried to pull something like that on you too. They’re protective, and being as you’d be the only girl in the household, they’d see it as their duty to protect you. They’d want the best for you, which probably means dating someone more like Johnny or another good person: Someone that would treat you right and be a good influence on you. I hope that makes sense.)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

please like, reblog and follow for more!

requests: closed!

#curlyshepard #curly shepard #curly shepard imagines #curly shepard headcanons #curly shepard x reader #curtis sister reader #curly shepard x curtis sister reader #the outsiders #the outsiders imagines #the outsiders headcanons #the outsiders curtis sister reader #the outsiders curly shepard #the outsiders curly shepard imagines #the outsiders curly shepard headcanons #the outsiders curly shepard x reader #the outsiders curly shepard x curtis sister reader #i hope you enjoyed it!

[circa-specturgia]

“Yours is not the only set of footsteps you’re hearing, even though you’re walking alone.”

Yours is not the only set of footsteps you’re hearing, even though you’re walking alone.

Behind you, a half pace behind, you can hear your work shoes. Their heels hits the pavement in their own distinct sound. Your fingers still remember the way you’d tie their black laces and tighten their black leather.

You walk still, trying to pay them little mind. It’s not the first time you’d heard them behind you. It likely won’t be the last.

Each step adds a gram of weight to the ring on your finger.

Each step a reminder of the long night hours. The office. The silence. The empty nightstand. The hospital waiting room.

Yours is not the only set of footsteps you’re hearing, even though you’re walking alone.

Somewhere behind them, pair of socks over bare feet shuffle over the freshly-set floorboards. Maple, like you’d always talked about.

The wind blows through your hair, whistling in your ears the first notes of a melody you once remembered. A melody you’d danced to on that floor, in the middle of the night.

Yours is not the only set of footsteps you’re hearing, even though you’re walking alone.

A pair of hiking boots, a bit further behind you, break a twig that you’d stepped over a moment ago. Their step has more life to it, more vigor, as it joins the march down the empty road.

The breeze carries the hint of a scent, despite the boots being behind you. Sap. fresh green-pine air. The frigid bubbling stream, the blue clouds and white sky. The rain. Sweat and laughter.

The moon shines through the clouds and for a moment the way it’s rays pierce them is the exact same as the suns atop that mountain from the magazines you’d only talked about until that summer.

Yours is not the only set of footsteps you’re hearing, even though you’re walking alone.

Your old sneakers plod against asphalt, dripping rainwater in the windy night, somewhere far, far behind you.

The balls of your feel and heels ache at the sound, brought back a moment to a long-ago night.

To the wind in your hair, the tears mixing with the sky’s downpour, glasses fogged up. Heart filled with adrenaline and excitement and fear and love.

Knuckles against a bright green door, sore shaky voice against red ears, lips against lips, relieved and bare laughter against laughter.

Yours is not the only set of footsteps you’re hearing, even though you’re walking alone.

It’s barely in reach of your ears, and over the other pairs, you hear the proud marching of a grade schooler.

Walking with pride and head held high in defiance of the worries that may come ahead with blissful, simple, wonder, for every day.

Distracted by any bug or stick or rock on the way home.

Yours is not the only set of footsteps you’re hearing, even though you’re walking alone.

Of disjointed steps and strides a heartbeat sounds out, walking down an empty night road.

You sit, on the bench, at the end of the road.

Afraid to look back. Afraid of their faces looking forward. Afraid of what you’d think of yourself.

Instead, they sit beside you. One, by one. A slightly younger person grasps your hand and squeezes it, a bit too tights their hand is less bony than yours. The ring fits better, not slipping down to their knuckle. It’s all they need to do.

You sit there. Beside you, your life, your memories. Their steps, leading you to this bench, under the moon and clouds and stars.

Yours was not the only set of footsteps you’d heard, even though you’d thought you’d been walking alone.

All you’d need have done had been listened for a moment, to have heard them behind you, always. In empathy do your struggles, in awe of your successes.

Now, their echoing footsteps have gone still, and silent, leaving just the breath, and the view.

This time, the footsteps come from ahead.

You know who they belong to in a heartbeat, as their fingers lace through yours at your side.

You sigh, the sound lost on the wind. Your eyes look to them, as a weary, long-thought-out smile comes to rest in your crows feet.

You’d heard footsteps whenever you were alone, all your life.

As you stand, and begin to walk with them, the rest stay under that moonlit bench, letting the two of you walk home in the quiet.

- Written between 1-2 AM, from the middle of a quiet field

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #writing community #writing #it’s been forever since I’ve written anything like this #but I decided to make use of the idea and the inspiration and write it all in one day #thank you for reading! #I hope you enjoyed it! #it might be messy as hell cause as said #I wrote it at like. 1 in the morning #but i had a lot of fun writing it

[rainteaanddragons]

I wrote this one for @cluelesslesbian who did the sweetest piece of art that I just had to write a fic for 💜

You can find the art here 😊

~

Couples(?) Costume

Keith had sworn to himself, even back when he started at the Garrison, that he would never be seen at a Halloween party, especially in costume, yet here he was. Shiro had pushed him unceremoniously through the front door to Lance’s parents house insisting that it would be “fun” and that he [Keith] “needed a break”.

To Keith, the latter of those two statements was actually true. They’d been back on earth on and off for nearly a year at this point and Keith had thrown himself into his work with the Blade. It was easier dealing with the aftermath of all he’d experienced by working. By being useful and keeping busy.

Keith wondered if it was Shiro coming to check on him in his old place he’d lived in before and finding him passed out, still in his Blade uniform that tipped him off that he needed a break. Or maybe it was the week old milk in the fridge. Keith couldn’t be sure.

So that was how he ended up at Lance’s parents' place in the country, in a cowboy costume that consisted of all his own clothes, a hat he’d stolen from Lance an age ago, and a wheat stem he had collected along the way. A wheat stem he realised he would now have to remove from his mouth nearly every time he talked unless he wanted to sound strange.

Deciding that getting a drink was task one in this costumed nightmare, Keith heads towards the kitchen. Keith notices that the closer he walks to the kitchen the more whispers follow him.

“Are they-?”

“Is that a couples costume?”

“I didn’t know they were dating.”

Now Keith isn’t a stranger to whispers. They’d been his constant companion since the first time he was nearly thrown out of the Garrison, and the second, and the third.

This though?

It didn’t make any sense in the slightest. Couple’s costume? Dating? Dating who? Keith is as single as a lone plant dreaming of water in a desert. The water in this painful metaphor being Lance.

He is tugged abruptly from his thoughts by a tall squishy, purple and blue sleeping bag plastered with multiple eyes and spikes. On further inspection it turns out to be Hunk, in what Keith now can only guess is a Weblum costume.

“Is there something you need to tell me?” Hunk asks in a tone that clearly says he has more of an insight to the whispers than Keith does. Though that isn’t difficult.

“What,” Keith throws up his hands, nearly knocking his hat off, “are they talking about?”

“Oh,” Hunk looks crestfallen, “you didn’t plan this?”

“Didn’t plan what?” Keith asks in a low voice. A thousand possibilities running through his mind.

“The matching costumes.” Pidge says from behind him, moving to stand next to Hunk. They are wearing what looks like a home made copy of the official Green Lion halloween costume.

“The matching costumes?” Keith splutters.

“Yeah, more commonly known as a ‘couples costume’.” They point out gently. “You usually plan it, as a couple.”

“I’m not dating anyone. Plus these are my normal clothes!” His voice raises in pitch as he speaks.

“Calm your farm Keith.” Hunk grins.

Keith chooses to ignore the pun. “Who am I matching anyway?” He asks at the same time that his mind starts wondering where Lance has got to.

“Who do you think?” Pidge asks.

“Why do you think we got so excited?” Hunk is looking at him incredulously from the head gap in the sleeping bag.

The dots connect quickly after that with a little oh occurring in his mind. Of all the people.

Keith knows Hunk and Pidge know about his feelings for Lance, he also knows Shiro knows. Suddenly Keith is wondering if Shiro knew about this costume thing from the start. This is when Hunk points to a spot behind where Keith is standing.

Keith turns around to see Lance standing there staring at him with equal confusion.

For a moment Keith can’t work out how their costumes could be a couples costume at all. Then he takes in the white sleeveless shirt Lance is wearing that is covered in what looks like hand painted black splotches and matching jeans. As his gaze is pulled to Lance's face he notices the hand made ears that are sticking up from his brown hair on either side of his head. He had even drawn a black splotch on the end of his nose.

Oh. Keith feels as a blush spreads over his cheeks and wishes the floor would swallow him up.

Thankfully, Lance comes out of his stupor first, a wide smile brightening his expression. “Keith!” He exclaims, “you said you weren’t coming.” As Lance leans in for a hug Keith notices the blush that has spread over his cheeks too.

“Shiro said I needed a break.” Keith managed a smile in return as he broke away from the hug. “Nice costume.”

Lance’s blush deepens. “Nice costume yourself.”

“I’m going to get a drink.” Keith says abruptly and heads towards the kitchen. To his dismay, Lance follows him. He had been hoping to deal with his embarrassment in peace. Once in the kitchen Keith downs a shot of whatever is closest, then turns to Lance. “Shiro suggested it, the Cowboy costume I mean.”

“Hunk and Pidge name dropped Kalternecker too a lot over the past week.” Lance narrows his eyes.

“Are you thinking they played us?” Keith was going to murder Shiro when he found where he’d very conveniently wandered off to.

Lance nods. “Strangely though, I don’t mind that they did.”

“Huh?” Keith’s heart rate goes up tenfold. What does he mean?

”It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you around. You sorta dropped off the radar after we returned to earth and everything was sorted.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“Too busy to see a friend?”

“I thought you and Allura would be busy unifying the galaxies or-”

“We broke up.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I-” Keith quickly counters but Lance interrupts with a shrug and a smile.

“Oh, don’t! We figured out it wasn’t working, for both of us. We get along well enough though.”

Lance then sighs, and not a frustrated sigh or a I don’t want to explain this again sigh. To Keith, it seems like a ‘I want to say something but I’m not sure how’ sigh.

Keith smiles warmly, taking in Lance’s expression and loving the way his nose scrunches up a little in thought. For once the little bubble of hope in his chest grows a little.

“Lance I-” Keith says at the exact same time that Lance says “Keith I-”.

“You go first.” Keith says with a small nod.

“Keith,” he starts, but for a moment seems unsure for how to continue, then, “you remember the day I came and found you sitting on the Black Lion with Kosmo watching the sunset? The day before launch day, when I’d asked Allura on a date and I was all worried about Altean customs. You calmed me down and sent me on my way.”

Vividly. “Yeah…” Keith trails off, wondering where on earth he is going with this.

“Well I’ve thought about it a lot since then, and I think-” he pauses, nose scrunching, “I think, for a moment there, you wanted to say something else.”

Shit. Lance wasn’t wrong, he’d been moments away from telling him the truth that evening (the other truth - every word he’d said to Lance that night had been true). Lance had been so vulnerable with him, and bathed in the light of the sunset he’d looked so, so beautiful. That evening though, Keith couldn’t find it in him to do so. It would have ruined Lance’s night, or so he had thought back then. Telling that truth now though, Keith was just as hesitant, but for different reasons. His indecision must have shown on his face as Lance spoke again.

“You did, didn't you? You wanted to say something different.”

“I didn’t want to ruin your night by possibly confusing you.”

“Then tell me now.”

“What?” Keith gaped, feeling as a faint blush spread over his cheeks again.

“What did you really want to say that night?”

“Everything I told you that night is true, but-” Keith pauses, fumbling over his words.

“Go on.” Lance gives him an encouraging smile.

“But, until you’d said you were going on a date with Allura, I had wanted to say that you mean more to me than I could ever put into words. That I’d had feelings for you for a long time, and that if we made it through the end of the war that I wanted to ask you out.”

There is a long silence. Or at least Keith thinks it is a long silence. It feels like it. His heart is thudding somewhere in his throat and his stomach churns as if he needs to be sick. He places the wheat stem back in his mouth after speaking as if the act of doing so might calm his nerves. He watches Lance carefully, but his expression is unreadable. Then Lance smiles and Keith has never seen something so warm, so genuine from Lance in a moment that is all for him. He thinks his heart might burst, and if it hadn't right then, Lance’s next words were enough to make it so.

“That’s good,” Lance says, still looking at Keith like he is the world, his world, “because that is all I’ve wanted to hear from you for quite a while.”

Lance steps towards where Keith is leaning against the kitchen counter, and reaches over to gently pluck the wheat stem from between Keith’s lips with delicate fingers. Lance sticks it in Keith’s hat before leaning in slowly to kiss him.

The kiss is warm and gentle, but it is also tingling and fireworks, and when Lance’s hand rises to cradle the back of Keith’s neck and his fingers twine in his hair Keith thinks that maybe, just maybe, he is finally home. All that matters is Lance kissing him in his kitchen in silly matching costumes that up until that moment Keith had thought would be the mishap to send their friendship slowly into ruin.

“How about next year we plan a couple’s costume?” Lance asks softly against his lips when he pulls away slightly.

“Absolutely not.” Keith replies with a soft chuckle.

The expression on Lance's face when he leans back completely tells Keith that for Lance, he will probably have changed his mind on couples costumes by this time next year for more moments like this. When Lance offers him a warm smile, leans in and kisses him again Keith is sure of it.

~

I hope you enjoyed this, and that it was what you hoped! Thank you again for letting me write it! I hope this fic brings you as much joy as it did for me writing it!

I changed a few little cannon things because the ending of this show hurts my soul, it made sense I hope! Also I HC Pidge as non-binary, and I'm in the habit of writing them like that now, I hope that's okay!

#Voltron #klance #klance fanfiction #klance fanart #keith kogane #lance mcclain #this is so fluffy #with a dash of pining #because it wouldn’t be an Anna fic without it #I hope you enjoyed it!

[the-badger-mole]

On the Clearest Night: 1K Followers Special

So, I hit 1K followers! For a while, I really didn't think I'd get to this point, but I did it! Somehow... Do I get a trophy or a cash prize or....? In honor of this illustrious occasion, I've reached out to my 1,000th follower and asked them if they had a prompt they wanted me to and they chose Painted/Blue. Here's the result. Thanks to everyone who followed me because of some random post I made and didn't unfollow me when I didn't live up to your expectations. Thanks to @iromiak for being number 1,000! Couldn't have done it without you! And I promise I will continue providing the nonsense you expect from my blog until I get bored and leave forever.

And now! Tonight's feature presentation:

On the Clearest Night

He couldn't decide if she was truly a spirit or not. Zuko had come at his father's request to Jang Hui to investigate the explosion at the arms factory. When he arrived he was confronted by two different versions of the story. The soldiers protecting the armory gave a report of a dark-clad vigilante leading a highly organized team armed with sophisticated explosives acting during the night. The citizens on the other hand told a tale of a river spirit appearing in the form of a beautiful young woman healing the sick, clearing up the river and ridding them of the factory that had nearly destroyed their way of life for good. One side was near rabid with the desire for retribution, and the other side spoke in hushed awe about their savior.

"That's enough,' the boy's mother took his hand and nearly dragged him away from Zuko. She smiled apologetically. "He insists he saw the Painted Lady, but the truth is none of us got a good look at her face. The veil, you know."

"I did see," the boy grumbled unhappily. "Mama said I would have died if the Painted Lady hadn't returned to help us."

"Then I'm glad she was here," Zuko said sincerely.

Still, he had a job to do. His father had entrusted him to find out what had happened to one of the most important armories in the country and to bring the guilty parties to justice. To his relief, Zuko was able to clear the half-starved, ragged villagers of any wrongdoing. He made a note with his secretary to have some sort of aid set up for the village. The soldiers from the armory weren't thrilled about sharing their rations, but it would do until Zuko could get back to Caldera and make more permanent arrangements for relief. He would have to ask his father about assigning a minister to look into how a village like Jang Hui could be allowed to fall so far through the cracks and make sure there were no other such oversights. It was bad enough that he was beginning to hear rumbles of dissent about the draconian conscription laws, the Fire Nation couldn't afford crisis-level poverty, besides.

Zuko stayed in the village another two days, gathering as many clues and leads as he could. There was something strange about the first-hand accounts from the villagers that he couldn't quite place. It was as if they were being careful about saying too much. He heard all about the people who had been brought back from the brink of death by the Painted Lady, and about the stores of food that had been laid at the doorstep of the worst-off families. He'd heard about her ethereal beauty, but they all stopped just short of any truly pertinent details.

"The soldiers said that she was human," a young boy told Zuko. "That she was from outside the Fire Nation, but I saw her! Her eyes were silver and she floated on the river with no raft. "

"That's enough,' the boy's mother took his hand and nearly dragged him away from Zuko. She smiled apologetically. "He insists he saw the Painted Lady, but the truth is none of us got a good look at her face. The veil, you know."

"I did see," the boy grumbled unhappily. "Mama said I would have died if the Painted Lady hadn't returned to help us."

"Then I'm glad she was here," Zuko said sincerely.

The day Zuko was supposed to leave, there was a sudden stir in the village center. A small group had arrived from a neighboring village, having heard about the troubles in Jang Hui. They bore what scant supplies they could spare and interesting news.

"We've been visited by the Painted Lady," a middle-aged woman said as she passed out blankets and farming tools. "She cured a few that was ailin', and then she told us that you lot would need some help to finish getting back on your feet."

"You spoke to her?" Zuko asked, pushing his way forward to the newcomers. "Directly?" The woman and her companions blinked in surprise. Someone quickly let them know who he was, and they all dropped down into deep bows.

"Please, you don't need to do that," Zuko insisted, somewhat impatiently. "I just want to know if you got a good look at her. Is she a spirit or is she human?" The villagers of Jang Hui stilled and seemed to hold their breath. Zuko tried not to notice.

"I can't say any of us got a good look at her, your highness," the woman said hesitantly. "There was a heavy fog, and she was covered from head to toe in a long, flowing robe. All any of us who were there could see was something glowing in her hands when she touched the sick, and the red markings along her arms. Then she was gone as if she'd never been there." Someone behind Zuko let out a breath that sounded like a relieved sigh. His mouth pulled down slightly at the corners. It seemed he had gotten as much information out of Jang Hui as he was likely to get. He asked the newcomers where they'd come from, and he ordered his men to prepare to follow that trail at dawn the next day.

That night, Zuko's men went to bed early in preparation, but Zuko couldn't turn in quite yet. He made his way to the edge of the river. He'd been told that up until a few days before, it had been thick and dark with the sludge from the factory. It was unfishable, undrinkable, and useless for anything except disposing of waste, but it was the lifeline of the village. Tonight the water was still murky, though Zuko could make out the riverbed in the shallow water. In a few days more, it would run clear again. Zuko frowned. Had his father known that this factory had almost killed a village?

A rustling in the bushes behind him startled Zuko. He had spun around into a defensive crouch before he really registered what he'd heard. An elderly man, who Zuko had seen lurking near the edges of his conversations with the villagers, approached. He was frail-looking, all bent and leathery with his skin stretched tightly across knobby, arthritic bones. Zuko didn't think he was a threat, but he didn't let his guard down either.

"Do you need something?" he asked uncertainly.

"I wanted a chance to speak to you," the old man said. "I didn't think I'd get to before you left in the morning, but I think perhaps I'm meant to after all." Zuko stared at him in confusion for a moment.

"What do you need from me?" he asked, not impolitely.

"I just wanted to say that in all the years we'd been begging for help from Caldera, this was the first time we'd felt we'd been heard."

"Oh," Zuko dropped his fists and shifted uncomfortably on his feet. "I...I just wish we could have done more. When I get home, I'll look into a longer-term solution-"

"I am certain you will," the man cut him off. "And we would be grateful, but that's not what I meant. When the Painted Lady arrived, we were in the middle of dying, your highness. She found several of us breathing our last, and she saved us. Then she got rid of the source of our ills and gave us a second chance to perhaps thrive once again. As I'm sure you can imagine, we're a bit protective of our protector." Zuko's shoulders slumped. He was suddenly exhausted. All he wanted was to go home to his own bed and forget all about Jang Hui. He was certain this old man had much the same wish.

"I have to know who she is," Zuko said, almost apologetically. "If she's a spirit, I have to let the Fire Lord know so we can send the sages to look into this and figure out how to keep her happy. And if she's human...I know she was trying to help, but this," Zuko gestured to the looming husk of the factory. "I can't let her- or them- get away with this. I'll argue for leniency, but this was a crime."

"I understand," the old man said, shaking his head sadly.

"Do you know what she was?" Zuko pressed.

"I'm afraid I have no answer for you." The old man shrugged. "I don't know any human who could heal the dying, though."

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

The next few days were spent chasing rumors and picking up cold trails. It was just like old times, Zuko thought ruefully. Then he promptly shoved that thought away. It was a coincidence. Nothing more.

The Painted Lady had been spotted only once more since the visitors to Jang Hui told their story. Zuko thought he'd come close to an answer in a bustling town where he'd heard about two prisoners escaping a strangely built cell- wood, of all things in the Fire Nation- but there was even less information to be gathered than in the last two sightings. It was enough, though, to make Zuko suspect that perhaps they weren't chasing another ghost.

In another town, Zuko heard rumors of a spirit that only came out during the full moon and took the unwary in the woods. Zuko thought about investigating, but he soon caught word of another struggling town not too far away. It seemed a likely place for the Painted Lady to appear next. Besides, kidnapping people in the woods was the wrong MO. It was probably animals that snatched up careless wanderers (though perhaps, Zuko thought, it wouldn't be a bad idea to send someone to investigate soon).

The town that Zuko and his men arrived in was in terrible shape. It was in worse shape than he'd left Jang Hui in. Despite being a farming town in a year with a plentiful harvest, the people were starving. Starvation had been compounded with a wasting sickness that had already claimed what was estimated to be about a third of the population. That was the sanitized version that Zuko and his men had been given, but the young prince suspected that there was more to the story and that knowing more would make the situation look bleaker. But as with Jang Hui, the villagers were tight-lipped and unwilling to give anything up. It was frustrating to Zuko. After all, how could he help if he didn't know the whole of the problem? Still, he'd gathered enough to know that the Painted Lady hadn't been through yet, and he suspected it was only a matter of time before she did. It was time to send in someone who might have better luck on reconnaissance.

Zuko had a conversation with the captain of his guard that night. It had been a long journey, he acknowledged. Longer than he anticipated, and he knew that the men were getting anxious. The captain tried to assure Zuko that the men were fine, but Zuko insisted that they needed a break. Just a small one for the evening, and then they could pick up again tomorrow. The men caught a small wooly mountain elk and prepared it for a feast that evening. Someone even brought out a few bottles of strong arrack and passed them around. The feast flared up and fizzled quickly after the first few rounds of drinks, like a firework. Soon the men began to drop off around the camp. Some made it back to their cots and others just lay down where they were and fell into a deep sleep.

Zuko looked over them with a small tinge of guilt as he pulled on the Blue Spirit mask he'd smuggled in his bags. He didn't spike the bottles with anything harmful, but they would have a hard time waking the next morning. Zuko would be back by then.

The men had made impressive work of that evening's feast, but there was still a haunch and several smaller cuts of meat left. These Zuko bundled as best he could and carried it off towards the village. Finding the Painted Lady was his main goal, but he was glad to be able to be of use to his people, too.

The food Zuko deposited at the door of the woman who seemed to be the unofficial mayor of the town to be distributed by her the next day. Once that was done, Zuko found a roof and settled in to wait.

It didn't take long. Zuko had barely settled in his spot when a sudden, heavy bank of fog rolled in. At first, Zuko could see nothing, but he heard someone shuffling along through the mists. His heart caught in his throat when he saw the figure emerging. The light of the half-moon penetrated the fog enough to cast her in a silvery glow. Zuko could see the outline of the flowing robes she wore, and the droplets clinging to her gossamer veil caught the moonlight and made it appear as if she wore diamonds or stars to hide her face. And she was heading right for the house Zuko was on.

She entered quietly, and a moment later, Zuko saw a bluish, silver glow coming through the window. He crept to the edge of the roof and lowered his head and shoulders so he could see. It was just as he'd heard. The glow was coming from the Painted Lady's hands. She had them pressed to the chest of a young boy who was struggling to breathe. Zuko watched in terrified awe as a long, thin string of phlegm was drawn through the boy's mouth and discarded in the hearth of the nearby fireplace. When she was done, the boy was breathing easier already. She pressed her hands to his head next, and the boy sighed with relief before falling into a deeper, more restful sleep.

Her task done, the Painted Lady stood and headed back to the door. Zuko scrambled back onto the roof as quickly and as quietly as he could. He kicked a loose tile, causing it to skitter across the roof, but it feel into some bushes below, to his relief. He made back to his original hiding spot mere moments before the Painted Lady reemerged. He waited to see what she would do next. Move onto the next house, he thought, but she stopped suddenly and turned to the exact spot he'd been hiding.

"I know you're there." Zuko froze at her voice. He knew that voice. Why did he know that voice?

"You may as well come out," she continued. "I mean no one in the town harm, but if you refuse to show yourself, I'll have to assume you mean harm." The air grew colder suddenly, and Zuko saw vicious-looking shards appearing in the fog. Reluctantly, he stepped out of the shadows and stood at his full height. The Painted Lady looked up at him, and in the moonlight, he could see the red patterns painted on her bronze skin and a slight frown on her crimson lips. Mostly, though, his attention was caught by her startling eyes. He could just see them past her veil, glowing silver in the moon's rays.

"I know you," she gasped in surprise. "You're the Blue Spirit."

#atla #zutara #painted blue #1k followers special #1000th follower request #thanks for 1k! #let's do this again for 1500! #😁✌🏾 #leave a comment! #like! #reblog! #i live off attention #this wasn't supposed to be this long #but lol! what can ya do? #i hope you enjoyed it!

[polyghostfacehours]

I got to meet skeet today and dude I was so fucking nervous🥴 but yeah I see why Stu would just agree to killing with him…😂😂

I mean yeah just look at him, he's such a babe 😩👌

#im so jealous anon! #id give my left nut to meet him and matt #the dream tbh #i hope you enjoyed it!

[quietwingsinthesky]

👉🏻👈🏻 I don't know if you ship them so if you don't want to do this it's fine but could I get lucifer/castiel with the prompt "freedom"

(Rule of thumb is that I basically ship everything in this fandom to some degree besides like. 3 ships that squick me out, and none of them are angel/angel ones <3 so hell yeah CasLuci!)

(Also, as promised, for the wait, this is… a bit more than a drabble. Uh. Just by a little bit. Gonna start working through the other prompts in my ask box too, because you know what, I managed to focus enough to get 4 1/2 fics done for Lucifer week, and I’m happy with that.)

It’s Heaven’s own abuse that knocks Castiel free from his shackles. They're too greedy in their control. If they had left him a spare inch of his own mind unravaged, a rock unturned, then the memories would have remained buried. They are some of the first ever scarred over until Castiel couldn’t touch the surface of them, but when his superiors dig into his mind to purge his disobedience, they break the ground enough that in the aftermath, when he is reeling in pain and fear, he can claw up what they recklessly unearthed.

He clings to them. He adopts a soldier’s guise and swears himself back to Heaven, all while he turns the memories over in his grace again and again. There’s only a few. Heavily damaged, mere fragments of his past. Some of them fill him with grief, a few words in Balthazar’s voice or the safety of Uriel protecting him in a battle Castiel can’t remember. Some of them are only time capsules of a world forgotten, a child’s sleepy prayer he heard one morning, the way the sun glinted off the leaves of a long-extinct plant, a vessel he took back when humans were first figuring out how to paint teaching him how to draw a bison on a cave wall.

But some of them are so bright, Castiel can hardly look at them. Some of them are powerful wings catching up to him in flight and then drawing him close. Some of them are praise in an archangel’s melodic Enochian, spilling like sunlight down Castiel’s spine. Some of them are promises, ones Castiel isn't about to break.

Castiel can’t remember most of his existence. It’s been taken from him. He’s been told that all he’s known in that whole shattered life is Heaven’s love, and that love is the greatest that anyone can offer.

In these tiny moments that Castiel hoards, Lucifer’s love overpowers everything he has ever felt.

Zachariah declares him fit for duty, eager to get one of his best back into the field, and needing Castiel down there quick to cover for Uriel’s loss. (If only Heaven had declared him disobedient sooner, Castiel could have saved his brother. He would have understood Uriel. All he can do now is vow that he will not forget his brother; he will not let him be taken from Castiel as the memory of Lucifer was.)

From this moment on, Castiel does not serve Heaven. He certainly does not serve Zachariah.

But as he has Lucifer’s memory, he also has his example to protect him. Castiel is only one angel. His rebellion must be silent. His cause cannot be noticed by those watching him, waiting for an excuse to drag him back and tear him apart again.

He feels terrible when he has to free Sam from the panic room, but he understands now. Sam is the only one who can set Lucifer free, and Castiel must be there to open the way. If his own hands could break the final seal, he’d challenge Lilith himself. That’s not how it goes.

He doesn’t expect to die. He blames Dean for that, with no ill will, because Dean makes him feel like he can break the universe in half and suffer no consequences. He reminds Castiel of Lucifer in that way, his brother urging Castiel to look at the world differently than anyone else would, to think and to question and to choose.

He doesn’t expect to live, either, but then he is, fallen in the dirt with his head turned up to the sky. Before he can blink, it cracks open with light that Castiel could never mistake for anything else.

The news will report a devastating earthquake that happened in that moment.

To Castiel, it feels as if the Earth is frozen still. It’s over too soon. The light of Lucifer’s grace escapes and breaks like lightning across the clouds. Castiel stumbles to his feet. All he can do is follow.

He’s weaker than he should be. He can already feel the effects of Heaven cutting him out like a tumor, difficult, disobedient, destructive Castiel, who was given more chances than any other angel in Heaven and threw them all away. If only they knew the love he flew to now, the rest of them wouldn’t dare look down on him.

By the time Castiel reaches Lucifer, he has taken a vessel. It isn’t Sam, but Lucifer shines inside him all the same. He isn’t as Castiel remembers him, but then, Castiel imagines he carries more scars than he ever did as a young angel following the morningstar around.

He has no idea if Lucifer will even remember him. No memories to tell him if he was one of many angels Lucifer courted or if it was only him.

Lucifer is still an archangel. Castiel does what comes naturally. He kneels.

Lucifer stares at him for a few moments

“Stand up, little brother,” he says, softly, like he isn’t yet used to the vocal cords he’s borrowing. It took Castiel a little while to learn how to adapt Jimmy’s to his liking. He understands the disorientation of new flesh, and it comes to him that this is something he can offer Lucifer: the experience of wielding his own vessels. He doesn’t know if Lucifer has ever taken one before this. If he ever expected to have to need one beyond Sam.

(Guilt twinges in Castiel’s grace. He likes Sam, flawed as he is. Lucifer won’t hurt him, will he?)

“I know you,” Lucifer continues as he steps closer. His vessel is dressed in his sleep clothes, soft and comfortable. Castiel stands slowly. Lucifer cups his face as his rises. The rush of sensory nerves cannot possibly hope to compare to the ways in which Lucifer’s grace surrounds him. His eyes light up with recognition. “Castiel,” he says, “I should have known, of all my brothers, you would be the one to come back to me.”

His love breaks like a wave upon Castiel. Castiel wants to tell him so many things, the tortures Heaven inflicted on the rebellious after his Fall, the way humanity has grown and changed, for better and worse, since the days of Cain and Abel, the fact that Castiel was not the only one to remember him and still love him (for Uriel and him could not be the only ones to want Lucifer freed for his own sake, not to be thrown under Michael's sword.)

But there will be time for that later.

For now, Castiel teaches Lucifer how love can be passed between human vessels as their graces weave together to construct their own personal Heaven.

#(sneaking uriel references into my casluci fic because <3 i love him. blorbo of all time.) #i haven't actually written any cas/lucifer stuff before. this was new! and fun! #this prompt actually gave me two different ideas on how to answer it. this is the first one that got more fleshed out while i was walking #i hope you enjoyed it! #with my school semester nearly over and lucifer week almost here... even more time free for spn fanfics o_O #writing sparks joy what can i say #castiel/lucifer #castiel spn #lucifer spn #fanfiction #writing #ask #spn

[hinahaikyuu]

@mattsunkawa

Echo. Babe. Hear me out. As his twin I know exactly what it is about you, and let me tell you its everything. Tooru is surrounded by giddy, fake fangirls, and jealous guys (even some being his friends), that when he finds your welcoming, grounded being he is smitten almost as hard as his love of Volleyball. 

It was a late Friday morning, and the coffee shop shouldn’t have been this packed. There was never more than maybe five people at a time even during the morning rush, so when you were crowded in the little cafe by bodies upon bodies, no one could blame you for taking an open seat at a booth. 

Your coffee fresh in your hands as you sipped it slowly, scrolling on your phone, texting friends to pass the time as this crowd was not worth pushing through. 

“Iced Caramel Macchiato!” The waitress calling out orders was white noise at this point, not only to you but another man standing a few feet away and not paying attention to the order, “Oikawa! Iced Caramel Macchiato, Oikawa!”

“Dude, I think that’s you.” Oikawa was tapped on the shoulder by the stranger, coming to his senses and putting his phone away to grab his drink. He wasn’t expecting to be shoved by another girl though, sending his drink flying and into your lap while surprising you enough to drop your own drink.

“Oh my god.” Oikawa turned white, if he wasn’t a ghost, he was going to be. “I’m so sorry. I did not do that on purpose.” He reached over to the next table, grabbing there napkin dispenser and throwing napkins upon your lap. 

“Don’t worry about it. Accidents happen, at least it wasn’t hot.” Your tone, your smile, your calmness it was such a welcoming feeling to him. He slipped himself slowly on the other side of the booth. “I can pay for the outfit.” He couldn’t look at you, embarrassment washing over his features while he wiped down what mess was on the table.

“How about you start with buying me another drink, and taking a seat until the crowd clears this time?”

#this is different #but different is good #let me tell you my twin is ridiculous #but he needs someone like you #he needs you #otp right here lol #i love you thank you for being here and being in the event #i hope you enjoyed it! #mwahhh ♥ #much love babes #x ; Love at First Sight Follower Event #x ; Hinas 100 Follower Event

[whiteshipnightjar]

Zoozve, my beloved

#i cannot tell you how much this made me smile just bc it's so full of love #moon #venus #zoozve #long post #sorry about that it's very long but it's very entertaining i hope you enjoy this lil zoozve gem haha #astronomy #astrophysics #space

[sylvies-kablooie]

i do unironically think the best artists of our generation are posting to get 20 notes and 3 reblogs btw. that fanfic with like 45 kudos is some of the best stuff ever written. those OCs you carry around have some of the richest backstories and worldbuilding someone has ever seen. please do not think that reaching only a few people when you post means your art isn't worth celebrating.

#i often wonder about how many things would be considered classic or high art had they only received the marketing #how many short films that were made for class could have been the most powerful thing you'd ever seen? if you'd seen them? #“you know the greatest films of all time were never made” etc etc #but like. these works of art ARE being made. it's just enjoyed by a smaller audience with equal impact though #i think about this one furry i used to follow on insta who had the coolest worldbuilding ever. it's been years. #thought prompted by that sketch of nimona from ten years ago that was just for a character design #posted to the creator's tumblr and now it's nominated for best animated feature film at the oscars #and by the genuine emotional reaction a fan comic made me feel. how much work had gone into it. how beautiful it was to me. #idk what to tag this but i hope whoever needs to hear it does #writing #writer #fandom #fandom culture #artist

[socheckitout-mikey]

Hello! Could you do headcannos of David from TLB with a S/O that it's super insecure about people leaving her?

heya, i've been sat on this one for awhile and i really am unsure how to answer this as i don’t really see this person melding well with david.

where i see david being somewhat understanding and patient in the beginning, i think his patience may run out if it’s a repeated issue; wearing him down or even irritating him at points when someone is repeatedly mistrusting his intentions. he’s very much in the present, wanting to have fun despite having traits like sarcasm and broodiness. the idea of him abandoning his s/o is laughable to him and the boys bc they’re already his! what more can he do to solidify that outside of what he’s already done?

i don’t see the relationship lasting unless his s/o was working on themselves to change said behaviours, thought patterns and so on. david is very much a: “lets get to the root of the issue and do something about it” kind of guy (where possible). he gets everyone has insecurities, but not when it’s the main focus of the relationship. he’s a creature of the night after all. he wants to have fun and not be held back by such things. he’s not a therapist either, its not his sort of shtick.

i believe david’s  a caring guy deep down. seeing his s/o insecure and afraid of abandonment breaks his heart. him and the boys are the loyalest bunch of vamps out there, despite their savage inhibitions! he can only prove it sm until a discussion will be brought up. expect honesty from him. the work must come from them, whilst he will do his part too. tho he's not privy to moving with change. stubborn is his middle name.

david himself most likely has issues pertaining to abandonment. seen through his undying loyalty to star and trying to bring michael into the bunch, even at the end. i think someone with these insecurities would clash with him. clinging does nothing short of pushing him away further. he’s akin to a scruffy yet sleek stray cat, free like a bat floating upon the winds at night. exuding qualities like: independence, self-sufficiency, etc. he needs that room to feel at peace and content with his afterlife (however blood, partying and never growing old can be such a thing).

in reality, he’s not going anywhere. if seeing him have fun with the boy's breeds insecurities it just reiterates the problem. he’s obviously capable of having bonds, even romantic ones. however, i feel that he’d be better in a friendship with this person, where the boys also help reassure them they’re never going to know abandonment or pain again. through that a romantic bond may occur once there’s been understanding on the reader's part that this is the truth that matters. none of them will grow sick, old or die! isn’t that beautiful?

then his devotion will shine through, which on a romantic basis is amplified by a thousand!

i’m aware that my interpretation of this may be harsh or discouraging, but it is as it stands. david isn’t the type to desert those he cares for so rest easy in that notion. everyone is entitled to their own opinions. in fact, i welcome differences and discussions! if he’s your comfort character, helping you get through something then i understand and am happy for you. we all have insecurities, deserving love and respect unconditionally. sorry this didn’t turn out the way you probably hoped. - mae

#david #david x reader #david headcanons #david imagines #the lost boys #the lost boys headcanons #the lost boys imagines #the lost boys david #the lost boys david imagines #the lost boys david headcanons #the lost boys david x reader #the lost boys 1987 #the lost boys 1987 imagines #the lost boys 1987 headcanons #the lost boys 1987 david #the lost boys 1987 david imagines #the lost boys 1987 david headcanons #the lost boys 1987 david x reader #i hope you enjoyed it!

[emberglowfox]

Keeper -- a short comic about an angel meeting a robotic lighthouse keeper that doesn't know the world has already ended. Made in about 18 hours for a 24-hour 24-page* black and white comic challenge (that I arrived late to, ha.)

*the actual submission does not include the cover, which was created after the fact for this post.

This was a really great learning experience as someone who's... never really made a completed comic. I ended up really attached to the story by the end of the project (possibly due to all-nighter deliriousness lol) and ultimately am very proud of what I made.There are some things I'd still like to change, particularly text placement, but in keeping with the spirit of the challenge I've elected to leave it as is.

#sparks art #comic #angel #robot #my art #my comics #keeper: the angel #keeper: the lighthouse keeper #my ocs #hoogh. this was a grind yall lmao. but i am pleased with it #i hope you enjoy :pray: also keep your fingers crossed for me that this wins the contest #like it. it wont. because i am up against actual SEQA kids that know what theyre doing. and i dont actually mind really #but it would be funny #long post #very long post #sorry #i hope the readmore works

[buggachat]

something so fucked up about Chat Noir’s whole deal is that he is in a lot of ways Adrien playing a character. Like Adrien picked up his miraculous and was told he’d be a superhero so he was like “ok, time to act like a superhero!” and he lets himself have fun w it and play up the role and let loose and kind of just allow himself to be silly and goofy and have fun and for once in his life not care about performing Perfection™.

But. But none of the other characters KNOW THAT. So everyone just sees Chat Noir and is like “look at this guy’s ego. He’s so full of himself. Surely it’d be fair to knock him down a few pegs” without being aware of how few pegs he actually HAS. He’s like the “insecure character who overcompensates in ego” trope except he’s really not doing it unironically, he’s just having a fun LARP pretending to have self worth in his off-hours but nobody else is on the same page about it being a game and he refuses to tell them. He just dramatically pouts about it and lets them laugh and pretends like he’s not internalizing it and it is almost 3 am and my brain forced me to write this instead of sleeping I’m gonna take a melatonin

#writing this my brain was like: what if he actually likes it? #what if he likes people openly criticizing him in ways nobody actually does to Adrien agreste? #because Adrien Agreste is perfect and can do no wrong. maybe he enjoys being insulted or something #and then I remembered chat noirs multiple breakdowns about feeling unworthy and yknow what yeah I don’t think he likes it LOL #do normal people actually fall asleep when they lie down #if you can’t tell I recently decided to make my random ml musings your guys’ business instead of keeping it to myself #hope you enjoy

[letstalkaboutfandomsbaby]

Sorry people are being weird about your personal life. Have you seen the latest JJK episode? What did you think??

YOOOOOO THIS LAST EPISODE WAS FUCKING FIREEEEE (literally sksksk) it was so so good, i didn't realize how much i missed Sukuna until he was finally fighting and i got to hear his voice 🥴 i enjoyed it very much and i loved the animation, this season is going above and beyond and i hope the animators are reaping their rewards 💕

#ask #i hope you enjoyed it! #if you didn't i would love to hear why i love different perspectives :3