Idontneedsleep671 - Needsleep

bottling some more assorted things for patreon last month

“Friendly husky affectionately thanking a firefighter who helped them out after the pupper managed to get stuck on a roof”

(via)

@wizardpotions

lil stress ball

I felt that

❄️🐆

Pines pines pines

Nice! Could I please requests yandere headcanons of ghost Michael falling for female y/n? I imagine that since Mike dedicated a lot of his life trying to undo his father’s legacy he didn’t really fall in love with anyone before. Thank you in advance for writing!

note: I AM SO SORRY these took so long to do. i would use school as an excuse but no im just so slow at writing lmfao...hope the wait was worth it :,) i really like the idea of ghost yanderes this was very fun to write

warnings: yandere (but like. soft yandere. sort of) also angst. hella angst.

Yandere Ghost!Michael Headcanons

💜 - I think that, as a ghost, Michael would reside in his old home where he grew up. Visions of him and his little siblings playing together, smiling, laughing, playing before his eyes. Places where they hid from their father when he was mad at them, and where they would all sit and watch tv together, in a rare moment that everybody was in a good mood. But nearly every room was empty now, save for a few pieces of furniture, and even those had been replaced. Walls that were once chipped and cracking were replaced with new fresh coats of paint, any sign that anybody lived there before was gone.

💜 - A short while after that, you end up moving in. Michael finds it odd that you moved into such a big place, one surely meant to house a family, not just one person and her pet. He can't help the twinge of anger that festers inside of him when you start to move old furniture around, or certain rooms of the house go neglected when they need to be cleaned. He knows this anger is unreasonable, and that it isn't your fault, but watching his old home change, new memories being made inside of it, pains him.

💜 - As the weeks fade into months, Michael finds himself getting more and more attached to you. His eyes follow your every move, gaze lingering on your soft skin, your hair, your eyes. He's tried getting your attention before, by trying to possess certain objects or write on an open notepad, but nothing he did seemed to work. Although you might hear rumors from others, of the tragic deaths of Michael Afton and Henry Emily, his presence would forever remain unknown to you. The most you'll ever feel is a little chill crawl up your spine as his spirit passes right through you, arms held out to wrap you in an icy embrace.

💜 - Quickly starts to pick up on your little mannerisms. Tiny, insignificant things like the way you hold your pencil, little inflections in your voice when you pronounce certain words, hell, he's even memorized the tune of some songs that you hum to yourself. And could you blame him? All there is for him to do is watch you (not that he's complaining), admiring you as distant or as up close as he wants, a silvery, wispy hand enclosed over yours.

💜 - He soon begins to regret his reluctance to find a partner while he was alive. His mind had been too preoccupied to process the crushing loneliness, the empty hole in his heart only growing more and more as the years carried on until he finally had time to process these emotions when it was too late.

💜 - Sometimes you swear you can see a shadowy figure out of the corner of your eye. When you're walking down the halls late at night, you'll feel the rush of cool wind whisk by, or a blurry figure will appear at the end of the hall for a fraction of a second.

💜 - If you ever brought a partner to your home, Michael would be despondent, his brain wracked with rage, despair, and regret. He knew that you would inevitably find a lover. He is unable to do anything as he watches the two of you hold each other, whisper sweet nothings into the other's ears, and do all sorts of activities together. He wishes he'd found you sooner, and taken you away forever, kept all to himself to hold and love unconditionally. But that chance had slipped past his fingers, and now he could do nothing but watch, lament, and regret.

Little girl teaching her cats how to draw a flower 

(via)

Hello ! Mind you writing about frank x reader!survivor ?

It can be sort of first love or someone he had a crush on pre entity but never actually talked to.

gotchu bebe. im in a very--- legion mood.

There were new people on the block... Realm? Every once in a while. You could only stab the new guy so many times before it got tedious and repetitious... But Frank knew there were some people who he could never stab enough. No matter how many times he watched the light fade from that gamer chick's eyes... Or that really tired looking kid... Some of them just- Couldn't die enough. He didn't have a favorite, though. Not like the others. Susie liked that tired kid quite a bit. Probably reminded her of something Frank took away. Joey always seemed to go easier on Claudette. He'd always murmur something about her reminding him of a girl he used to play with. And Julie never killed that quick one by her own hand... Frank didn't have connections to the real world. The Legion was his connection... And apparently, even in the realm of the forgotten- That wasn't enough. He'd wanted to forget everything. This was the best thing to ever happen to him. Even if he dealt with the others' occasional pained glances... Dealt with them pushing him away when he tried to touch them... He was happy. He was fine. He was... Legion. You were meant to be forgotten. You were one of those embarrassing things he wanted to wash away when he moved to Ormond. Fifteen was a sensitive time for a lot of guys... And you had the mental bruises to prove it. He recognized you the second he saw you. You looked... Like an adult, then. Not that Frank... wasn't an adult... But the way you dressed was testament to how long he'd been there. What had been hoodies and ripped jeans had become much more... Professional. You looked like an A- grade parental figure. Looking at you gave Frank the anxiety that maybe he was supposed to be old enough to be a parent, now... You weren't fifteen anymore, but, similarly, you could tell it was Frank. Not by the way he looked... He looked rougher- Harder- Meaner- But by his voice. You'd heard that orphaned wailing before- And when it was plunging a knife into your back with similar distress, you knew it was him. You'd been his first everything. He'd lost his virginity to you- His first kiss because nobody wanted to touch lips with his filthy, unlovable ass- You'd been his first handjob- The first time he held hands with someone who wasn't a CPS member. You'd been- His everything... Clive was a real motherfucker. One of Frank's few regrets before coming here was not killing the fucker when he had the chance... Frank was too starry eyed for Ormond, though. After all, getting kicked off your school's basketball team will do that. You were a worthy sacrifice for change until... Well, until he was stuck here with the rest of them. He wanted to know if you were a parent... If you told your new boyfriend about him... He wanted to know if you thought about him sometimes when Julie was... Touching... Him... He loved Julie. He swore he did... But Julie didn't hold him while he cried after getting kicked off the team. Susie didn't. Joey didn't. And it really scared Frank having someone there who'd seen him cry.

You could never be stabbed enough for the sin of loving him.