#ignore all of the writing mistakes its 2am

[pineabble-soda]

Ref sheet for this RGB thing

The cape having wrong overlapped colors was a conscious decision

update: more info and stuff

[mikanotes]

— tired diamond

chishiya x gn!reader

genre: angst, comfort

warnings: swearing, blood, death, killing, guns, probably ooc chishiya, chishiya feels emotions wow!!! /hj aib stuff

synopsis: it isn’t a game of russian roulette that you expected to be faced with when tagging along with chishiya to refill your visas. it isn’t a game of death based on luck that you expected to join with chishiya. alas. you did.

author’s note: aib season two celebratory post /j i’m writing this at almost 2am i’m rly tired so sorry for any mistakes and/or typos i love chishiya btw

The game of Russian Roulette was a simple game. And a well known one, at that. Perhaps because it was so simple.

So deadly.

“The practice of loading a bullet into one chamber of a revolver, spinning the cylinder, and then pulling the trigger while pointing the gun at one's own head.” a boy said very fast and very nervously. You and Chishiya both raised your eyebrows and the boy gulped, “A-According to Oxford Languages dictionary, which is basically the first source of any definition you’ll search on internet—”

“We know.” a girl said before Chishiya could get those exact same words out with a much calmer tone of voice. Even just from this remark, you could tell how annoyed the girl was, and thus, took it out by speaking passive-aggressively. An understandable manner of releasing your anger and anxiety, sure. One of many, perhaps the most commonly used. Chishiya chuckled like he could read your mind and you shared a knowing glance before turning your attention back to the revolver sitting in the middle of the table.

The gun had a bell glass on top of it, making it seem like some sort of piece of art in a museum. The table the ten players sat around was a large, long table with fancy decorations and nothing but a knife and a wine glass filled with water for each person sitting around it. The room was also very fancy-looking, adorned with actual artworks— paintings and sculptures and beautiful, old tapestries on its walls. Your fingers drummed on the surface of the table casually, as if everyone hadn’t been avoiding any movement towards any object in the room in case it would kill them.

Chishiya smiled in amusement at how casual you were. As usual. Perhaps your own way of trying to ignore your anxiety and fear and stress. Or perhaps because you were relaxed in the midst of it all— Which wouldn’t entirely surprise him, either. He couldn’t tell, despite knowing you for a good while, now. You were either really good at hiding your anxiety, or just chill. But anyways.

He sighed and looked away, tired. Maybe he should’ve gotten more sleep. Sleep before a game was supposed to be important. But he didn’t usually sleep much.

“Sorry, he’s talkative when he’s nervous.” a girl explained next to the walking-dictionary next to her. You and Chishiya nodded in understanding, while the annoyed girl shook her head in annoyance and clicked her tongue with a scoff. “Anyways, I’m sure you all know the game, right?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t.” someone said, holding up their hand. It was a girl with an outfit that made you wonder if she’d just left her bed after a comfortable nap. You raised your eyebrows. “What is it exactly? I got what the guy said, but I don’t get it.”

“You put the gun to your head with only one round.” you said, making a gun gesture with your hand and holding it up to the side of your own head. Then you made a “pew” sound and lifted your hand, before resting it on the table. “It’s a game of chance. Either it’s empty, either it kills you.”

That’s right. That’s the detail Chishiya, ace of Diamonds, missed. He spent the entire time of the first round of the game wondering why on Earth the game was a seven of diamonds and not of heart. Every time the gun sounded around the room, very slowly emptying the eight available bullets on the table, Chishiya sunk deeper into his chair, thumb slowly coming up to his lip as he bit on his nail in thought. There were eight bullets for ten people, which meant two people could come out alive. Probably. It was the logical explanation for it, and logic was the core of Diamonds games. But why was the deadly game of Russian Roulette with only players who knew each other not a game of Hearts? He couldn’t be sure he, or you, or anyone could make it out alive because despite there being two spots available for winners, it was still luck above anything else. How could a game of luck be classified Diamonds?

Diamonds. A game of intelligence.

He watched as you grabbed the gun casually, and his eyes widened. “[name], wait, don’t shoot.” he said hurriedly, but when you turned to look at him, you’d already pressed the trigger with the muzzle to your temple. His eyes widened in fear, a feeling he rarely felt due to him forcing it away. Fear. Absolute fear that rendered him speechless and frozen in place.

The key to the game was that nothing specified that you had to shoot your head. Russian Roulette was a game played while pointing the gun to your head— Typically. But if the rules only said “shoot the gun towards yourself”, it meant it could be anywhere from your head to the tip of your toes. That meant that the game was to empty the eight bullets, and not surviving a shot to the head as he originally, dumbly, idiotically, pathetically thought. It was a small detail, but now it was like a big, bright neon sign in front of him, mocking him for taking too long to notice it.

The ace of Diamonds? Yeah, he was definitely a fucking ace. Fucking up this badly was something he wasn’t used to— And caring so much about someone that caring about fucking up came after worrying about their wellbeing was even more unfamiliar. He hated it. He hated it because he was frozen and he didn’t know what to do. Everything was going to be his fault and usually that would be fine but he knew the moment your finger pressed the trigger and he failed to tell you what he realized at the right time that he would lose sleep over this. His reaching hand trembled.

He sat on the chair as the familiar robotic voice sounded the end of the game. He stared blankly at the splattered blood all around the table, at the corpses on the other seats. He bit the inside of his bottom lip with harsh force. He hadn’t felt the burning in his throat that usually came before crying in a very, very long time. He hated that he’d felt it for even just a few seconds.

You laughed beside him and got up. “What’s up? Did you really think I was gonna die?” you said, lightly pushing his shoulder, “Come on, now.”

“Don’t try to brag. You know you only got lucky.” he said calmly, before looking up at you. He smiled as he usually did. “If you did die because you were dumb enough not to understand, it wouldn’t be any of my concern.”

“Says who?” you said, “You’re the one supposed to understand the games better than anyone else. Especially Diamonds ones.”

He remained silent, fingers toying with his bottom lip. You scoffed and shook his shoulders before pulling him up. Before he could even say anything, you wrapped your arms around him. “It’s okay, I know you were fucking scared. So was I.”

“I wasn’t.” he said, not moving away, “Besides, the problem doesn’t lie here. The problem is that it took me this long to understand what was up with the rules of the game. I focused too much on the fact that two players could win and that it wasn’t fitting— I wasn’t focused enough, not on the right things. It could’ve cost us our lives.”

“Even geniuses have moments of weakness.” you said monotonously, but genuinely. “And this wasn’t even weakness. This was just a miss. It happens to everyone. Even you. Besides, you haven’t slept in way too long.”

He sighed, still annoyed, but still not pushing you away. “Let’s go back. I’m tired.” he said, setting a hand on your shoulder to move away, but only turning so you’d walk side by side. “This was a pain.”

You chuckled besides him and walked away from the bloodbath of the game.

[imagines-mha]

⭒ haikyuu x exam season ⭒

Daichi- when i say he is the MOODIEST person when studying. It’s all fun and games until you interrupt him one too many times and he fucking explodes. Needs 2 chill

Suga- his goal in life is to be an aesthetic studyblr like this man will go and get iced coffee, order the prettiest stationary and then spend 20 minutes organising it for his instagram. As for ACTUALLY studying? He’s amazing at it. Literally the person we all aspire to be

Asahi- anxiety crams before tests. He does more than like 70% of his classmates but is always convinced he’s fallen behind on everything. Cries a LOT when he doesnt understand smth

Noya- another one who cries only he does it SO easily. Personally victimised by anything past question 1. Gets literally everyone to do his work for him

Tanaka- tries so hard he really really does. His handwriting is a mess and his notes look like something a 7 year old would do. Gets everything wrong but doesnt let it stop him

Ennoshita- did someone say pretentious straight A student??? Offers to help his friends just so he can flex his pretty notes and intelligence. Seems like he has everything under control but really? He cries like once a night in the lead up to exams

Kageyama- he doesnt have any room for anything in his head that isnt volleyball. Hes hopeless

Hinata- LACKS COMMON SENSE SO BAD. He’ll finally understand EVERYTHING but write the answer in the wrong place or leave out a decimal place in the exam. Stupidest mistakes

Tsukishima- he sticks to a study schedule like what? Who tf sticks to a schedule? Doesnt like to flaunt his grades around anyone who isnt hinata and kageyama, but akiteru and his mom are 100% the type to post his grades all over facebook like “so proud of my son !!!!!!”

Yamaguchi- the king of saying he hasn’t done much for exams, but then stays up every night til 2am studying. He HATES people having any expectations of him so keeps all his preparation secret lmao.

Kuroo- hes smart and he flaunts it so bad. 100% a teacher's pet, especially for science. Around exam season he lives in the library. Motivates kenma to study with him too tho hes so supportive

Kenma- hes naturally smart, which is like 70% of the reason his grades are good bc he does NOT study. Leaves it all to the night before/ when hes with his friends in the library but other than that nope he doesnt have energy

Lev- doesn't fully register he’s taking a test until he’s 3 questions in and hasn’t written a single word. Then he starts panicking.

Bokuto- he goes through the 5 stages of grief every single time he has to study. Gets frustrated as hell when he cant understand something, gets distracted by everything, a mess. Always leads to him slamming his textbook shut and sulking for an hour

Akaashi- the only one in fukurodani who actually spreads his studying out over the year so he doesnt have to cram. He has pretty notes and diagrams but still gets so stressed smh

Konoha- “yeah ill study in ten minutes” *cue him 6 hours later only starting* studies mostly at night and doesnt care about grades , yet still manages to score really good on every test

Oikawa- if this man is anything he’s dedicated. Actually finds balance between volleyball and studying when exam season’s in full swing, but that doesnt mean he still doesnt overwork himself. Surviving on 40 minutes of sleep and coffee lmao

Mattsun- doesn’t take school seriously at all. Hes like “who cares im gonna die one day” “if i dont know it now ill never know it”. So fucking chill

Makki- tries to be like issei so bad but it fails every time. He’s like “yeah who cares about biology anyway lmao”. He is a liar. He cried for 2 hours over biology last night smh. Biology is actually his number one care.

Iwa- naturally smart and follows a routine. The only healthy studier in seijoh tbh. Motivates his friends so much though hes the only reason mattsun and makki pass smh

Ushijima- sounds pretentious but he doesnt mean it. The worst person to study with because hes so naturally smart and makes everyone feel stupid. Hes like “how do you not understand this? Its easy?”

Tendou- hes so average when it comes to studying i cant even explain it. He goes home and studies, has dinner, watches some anime and studies a little more, then just goes to bed? Never overly concerned about it but hes the best for calming nerves. Makes you really believe things will be okay

Goshiki- CHRONIC WORRIER OH MY GOD. definitely gets the shakes before an exam and almost has a fuckin panic attack every single time, never feels prepared but he really is. Needs tendou for emotional support

Atsumu- too confident in his abilities lmao. He’s like “yeah ive got this i totally know it” then acts shocked and appalled when he fails. Thinks he’s the main character, therefore he HAS to pass. He’s not. And he never learns.

Osamu- the slightly smarter twin yet still not exceptional in any way. Doesnt really care about grades, he knows there’s more to life but still studies enough to pass

Kita- hello mr “whats a failing grade”. Never stresses and never fails. Actually the top of his class in basically everything. Manages to study and still find time for hobbies.

Aone- i am convinced a hug from him would get me through exam season every single year. Another person who just? Doesnt stress? Follows a routine and doesnt mind if he doesnt know something in the test. wow

Futakuchi- “i dont care about exams at all fuck them” *gets 53% and cries*. He doesnt have the patience to study and feels betrayed when all his friends actually do the work

Koganegawa- hes like hinata only he actually passes most of the time. Works SO hard and gets so happy when it pays off!! Always treats himself to mcdonalds after an exam thats self love babie

Terushima- you need to be cautious around this man. He’ll spend every night of exam season partying and ignoring any responsibility, yet still come out with 100% in everything. Where does he find the time? How does that work? What the fuck?

[k1rif4ngz]

Tokyo Revengers boys + your new years kiss !

request: "hi bae <3! can i request new years kiss hc's with kazutora and anyone else you'd like to do :D"

A/N: HELLO OFC I LOVE THIS <33 ill be doing separate posts for each character because im not sure on how long these are gonna be !! i also thought of latched by disclosure + sam smith while writing this!

IMPORTANT!!: I COMPLETELY REWROTE THIS AT 2AM SO PLEASE IGNORE ANY GRAMMAR MISTAKES AND/ OR INCONSISTENCIES!! they will be fixed once i wake up, thank you ! :D

characters/relationships included: (timeskip !) kazutora hanemiya x reader !

warnings: none !

summary: how your first new years kiss goes w/ him !! feel free to request other characters too. :)

kazutora hanemiya:

the 'confession' kiss !

This boy was shitting bricks when saw you walk in the party. He's been planning on confessing to you for a long time so he's really nervous.

Tonight was a special night, New Years. With the special occasion, he thought it would be a good time to finally make his move. You two have known each other for a while now, becoming very good friends after his release from prison again.

Now is his only chance, his only chance to sweep you off your feet for the new year.

The night only livens up the closer the clock reaches midnight and you then notice everyone assuming themselves with their respective parters.

Swirling the drink in your hand, you haphazardly look around at the crowd and then at kazutora; you've been with him all night and yet he's barely said a word to you. You've been planning on telling how you feel right when the clock strikes twelve, but with how the night has started, worry and doubt begin to claw at the back of your mind.

Any time you attempt to hold a conversation with him, it seems like he's trying to push you away so eventually you give up and just sit by his side; oblivious to the blatant nervousness practically oozing out of him,

With nothing else to do, you begin to occupy yourself with your thoughts and the new years show broadcasting onto the tv. Mid watching though, you cant help but feel someones burning gaze on you; burning holes into the side of your head.

Uncaring to who it may be you ignore it and continue to live in your own little world until you hear a very drunk takemichi yell, "10 MORE MINUTES !" before not so glamorously swaying a bit into hina's side.

Taking that as an initiative, you take a swig of your drink and attempt to lighten up with the environment; turning to speak to chifuyu and mikey, unknowing to the man desperately staring at you.

...

To you it seems like time passes in an instant because the next think you know its only 2 minutes remaining till its time.

Everyone begins to stand up in preparation and you excuse yourself to go back with kazutora. walking back to him, you both make eye contact for the first time this entire night. You notice the aura between you two is different tonight, an unusual buzz surrounding the both of you as the time progresses.

Looking away nervously, you turn to face the tv; watching the live counter go lower and lower and neither of you really speaking a word to each other.

Before another layer of tension can settle between you two, a mini-countdown begins as now, only a minute remains until the new year.

You quickly chug the rest of your drink before silently counting down with everyone, trying to get back into the moment. Mid count, you stop as again, you feel the same gaze on you, but this time it feels much more intense.

Giving in this time, you begin to look for who this person may be, only to be met with the same pair of eyes you just met with not too long ago.

You feel trapped in his gaze this time , unable to move or will yourself away from him.

He's a magnet and you got getting pulled in fast.

Too caught up in your current situation, you miss the start of the countdown to 0; your focus only on how you two were gravitating towards each other.

You come back to yourself the moment you realize how close you too are, faces now only inches apart.

"kazu.." is all you can say in the moment.

"hi." you hear him reply. almost like a whisper, you almost being unable to hear him if you had been any farther apart.

FIVE

"its been quite a year, don't you think?" , you start, trying to ease the now suffocating tension between you two.

FOUR

"sure has been" is all you hear in reply.

THREE

"im glad i spent it with you" , you continue.

TWO

"me too." is all you get in reply, kazutoras eyes all to fixed to your face rather than what you were saying.

ONE.

This time its quiet.. letting yourself revel in the moment before you tell him.

'here we go..'

HAPPY NEW YEAR.

"i lo-" is all you can get out before you feel his hands on your jaw, ambushing into a quick kiss.

Pulling back in surprise, you stare back at him with wide eyes, not knowing how to react to the sudden kiss.

Immediately you notice his expression change, going from one with a buzz of excitement to one of extreme worry and dread. Before he has any time to say anything though, you immediately pull him back into a much softer kiss, trying to convey everything you needed to say to him properly.

This time once you pull away, you look at him smiling.

"i love you." You finally manage to say, smiling wider now that its over.

"i love you too." is all he manages to say again before pulling you in again.

Maybe new years resolutions can be completed.

NGL IM SO NERVOUS, IM NOT THAT GOOD AT WRITING FOR HIM HELP !! but in the next part i'll be doing draken + mitsuya's !

© 2021 k1rif4ngs All Rights Reserved.

[neo-shitty]

all the muggle things. — c.s

description. in which you and san spent the rest of your days after hogwarts getting the muggle experience.

pairings. slytherin!choi san x gender-neutral (wizard) reader (yes, this fic is house friendly)

genre. harry potter/hogwarts!au, fluff

warnings. mentions of injury. 

word count. 1.6k

writer’s notes. i don’t know why i never thought of writing a harry potter-inspired au before! also, it’s been a while since i’ve written for ateez. i hope this didn’t turn out so bad! 

inspired by option #1 (roommates au) + prompt #36 from this list (given by @kathyrncapp835​)+ prompt #46 from @ficscafe​‘s dialogue prompt event (given by @meaningfulmess​). prompt lines are bolded.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾  TERMINOLOGY GUIDE :: for the muggles, explained and simplified by yours truly

Muggle - someone who isn’t able to use magic / non-wizard

Lumos - spell that makes the tip of a wizard’s wand light up

Quidditch - a game for wizards that involves flying on brooms and shooting balls through hoops, basically basketball but more complex because there are three hoops and someone’s trying to catch an ‘i-am-speed’ ball that dictates the fate of the game in the end

Sectumsempra - a spell that lacerates the opponent

Wizarding War - the war between Voldemort’s side and Harry’s

Dark Mark - Voldermort’s mark

Nox - counter spell to Lumos that switches the wand’s light off

You tried your best to peer your eyes open when you heard the front door slam shut. You groaned, infuriated at how such simple tasks like breathing and opening your eyes required extra effort whenever you were sick. But getting sick was merely a consequence of your own actions, so you really didn’t have anyone else to blame but yourself.  

You managed to open one eye, fighting back the heavy eyelid that threatened to shut and you searched the room for other movements besides your own. 

“It’s 2AM, go back to sleep,” a voice said. Soon, it’s owner emerged from the shadows of the doorway.

Dressed in his all-black work uniform was San. His whole figure blended into the background too well that it almost seemed like he’d apparated back to your place. But with the faint sound of his footfalls, you concluded that he used the muggle way in.

You turned your head. You considered turning your whole body but everything felt sore and heavy. Plus, you were content with the way the comforter was wrapped around you—which was rare, even on better days. You watched San pass by the living room before heading to the kitchen. Though you couldn’t see him from the living room couch, you could see the shadow casted on the floorboards by the kitchen light he switched on. It danced as he moved around, probably to get a late night snack before heading to bed. You could hear him uttering hushed incantations followed by the faint clattering of kitchen metals.

“I’m glad you didn’t burn the house down while I was gone,” he said from the kitchen.

A smile crept up to your lips at his statement. You opened your mouth to utter a small thank you but you could only manage a whisper. You weren’t even sure if he even heard it from that far.

Moments later, he reappeared by the kitchen doorway. “But you were cutting it a bit too close though,” he continued, clutching a frying pan in his right hand. 

The pan—originally gray—was now blackened from the mishap earlier. You had fallen asleep in the middle of cooking your own dinner, only waking up to the smell of burnt meat. The scent had been that thick that it managed to seep through your clogged nostrils. It was that bad. You ended up ordering take out instead. You forgot that you didn’t clean up the evidence.

A croaky laugh escaped your lips as you recalled the accident. San only shook his head, disappearing back into the kitchen to put the pan back to the sink. When he came back, he had two cups in hand. He walked over to set both down on their respective coasters on the glass center table of your living room. When he reached over to turn the lights on you stopped him.

“Don’t turn the lights on,” you said, your voice barely audible but he hears it, stopping before the lamp fully on. “They’re too bright. It’ll give me another headache.”

You see his silhouette nod. You could hear him flipping his coat around, shuffling to find something. You didn’t know what he was searching for exactly and you opted to ask him. But you soon find out what it was when you hear him whisper.

“Lumos.”

Where San stood, an orb of light began to glow. You soon realized that the light came from the tip of a stick. He was holding the fir wand in his hand, controlling its brightness until it was just right. Soon, it illuminated the room with a faint light—bright enough for you to see outlines of the room and the furniture scattered but not bright enough to make your eyes water like the lamps did.

He walked over to where you were before leaving his hand outstretched. “Sit up to drink your leaf water,” he said, earning a chuckle from you.

“Leaf water,” you repeated in a hoarse voice before taking his hand in yours, clutching it as you helped yourself up. You crossed your legs, tucking each foot beneath the opposite leg in order to give room on the couch for San to sit. 

He handed you your cup of tea before he sat adjacent to you with his own cup in one hand and his wand in the other. Your eyes lingered on the wooden stick he gripped in his hand and on the fingers he had wrapped around it. All his rings were silver, representing the complementing color of his house, Slytherin. Or that was what you remembered of him back when you were still studying at Hogwarts.

You recalled when you used to watch him play Quidditch. He always kissed his rings first before putting on his gloves. He was deemed one of the more valuable players next to their seeker and you were just another student from another house. It wasn’t until your last school year at Hogwarts when you first interacted. The first time you both went beyond the occasional glances you shared whenever you were both in the same class. 

Though your first time meeting wasn’t the best setting for the start of something new.

You were tending to one injury after another, working with the school nurse to cater every student who ran to the infirmary for aid or additional support in the form of potions. San had walked in alone and upon catching sight of his green sigil, your first instinct was to cast a spell to disarm him. But he didn’t have his wand raised, nor did he show any indications that he was about to attack. Your guard was up; he was still a Slytherin and fighting for the opposing side.

But he was still a student of the school with a bleeding arm. The rip on his upper sleeve revealed enough of  his wound for your body to move on its own without much guidance. You led him to the nearest vacant bed, letting him standby until you got everything you needed from the cabinets. 

In the time you were treating the wound, you learned that it took him half the war and a Sectumsempra to the arm (which was originally aimed at his chest; thankfully he was able to dodge it—barely) to realize that he was fighting for the wrong side of the Wizarding War. He was glad he was going to sit out the rest of it and vowed to—and you quote—“Never do stupid shit again.”.

The Dark Mark was still tattooed on his arm, a permanent reminder of decisions that did more harm than good both to him and to the people around him. The tattoo faded over time as the population of evil wizards gradually decreased. 

Your brain was hot-wired to never trust a Slytherin. Or at least, it used to be. 

Much to your surprise, San did keep his words that night at the infirmary. He spent his years after Hogwarts atoning for all the damage he’d caused, dedicating nearly all his hours into hunting the last of the witches and wizards who still practiced the Dark Arts. 

San shifted beside you, leaning against the back of the couch before turning to look at you. He set his mug back down to its coaster before he pressed his palm against your forehead. 

“I’m feeling a bit better, don’t worry. I think I’ll be fine by morning.”

“I still don’t get why you let yourself be sick when you can just—” he flicked his wand, “—it away.” 

You set your own mug down after taking a sip, only noticing then that he pulled out the matching Hogwarts house coasters. His furrowed expression softened when you held his hand, peeling it off your forehead before sandwiching it between your cold ones.

“I’m trying to experience muggle living,” you answered. 

Slytherins normally weren’t the type who liked involving themselves with muggle things, more so with the muggle way of living. But San wasn’t always like other Slytherins. Cheesy, you thought. But it was a fact.

You held his stare when his eyes landed on yours. You knew his mind was brewing some sort of egoistic line or anything short yet clever to say. But you were faster.

“You did well today,” you told him, drawing random shapes and symbols on the back of his palm.

Even after hearing it everyday for the past few years, San’s heart still warmed upon hearing the words leave your lips. 

You said it the first time at the infirmary. At first, you were unsure if you were saying it to yourself as he heard you utter it after you patched him up. Later that day, you reassured him that it was meant for him. San, at the time, wasn’t too keen on accepting it. Nothing about what he did that day was worth the praise. But he soon realized you were referring to his decision to right his mistakes instead of staying ignorant.

You haven’t stopped saying it since then. The phrase became more of a part of your routine over time but it still held the same value as the first time you ever said it. You still smiled softly after saying it and you still looked at him fondly like you were genuinely proud of it. San was trained to easily catch  whenever people lied—be it in the form of speaking or in acting. But he never found any trace of ingenuity whenever it came to you. 

Somehow, that was enough to convince him that he could still make up for mistakes made in the past. It wasn’t too late yet. 

You catch the moment the corner of his lips curved up into a smile. One sly finger up, you were ready to—once again—poke the dimple on the side of his mouth.

He hated that. But if he were to be honest, he could never really hate anything you did. One ‘Nox’ and a flick of his wand later, the light on the tip of his wand disappeared—plunging the both of you into complete darkness before your finger could even touch his skin.

“I hate you,” you muttered under your breath, drawing your hand back and crossing them over your chest.

You couldn’t see him clearly in the dark but you could tell the smirk from his tone, “Of course you do.”

© neo-shitty, 2021

[tomiokai]

birthday gifts

haikyuu!!

navigation <- masterlist found here

[ sfw ] what the haikyuu!! boys would gift you if it were your birthday. gn!reader

t. oikawa / k. kenma / k. akaashi / t. kuroo / k. bokuto / t. yamaguchi / k. sakusa / t. kageyama

notes: i had too much fun making this one… i just thought that this would be the fluffiest thing to write and i couldn’t resist! ignore the spelling mistakes cause i can’t proof read for shit. HOLY SHIT, as i was writing this i left the app and EVERYTHING just disappeared. i straight up sobbed for an hour before attempting to rewrite everything. 1/10 would not recommend. so enjoy my tears ig… wrote this at 2am so it might be questionable- this fic is crazy long and i don’t even know why…

cw: none… maybe a shit ton of fluff and the slightest bit of suggestiveness if you squint super hard.

T. Oikawa

Okay, Oikawa would definitely take you on a private date somewhere without his fangirls.

He’s always busy with volleyball, he has fangirls chasing after him at all times and he just can’t seem to find alone time with you.

So when it was your birthday he decided he would take you to a quiet little cafe and spend some quality time with you.

You guys would sit across from each other while holding hands over the table located in the corner of the vacant cafe.

There would be a beautiful sunset outside the window as Oikawa fed you cheesecake.

He would softly nudge your feet whenever you said something that embarrassed him.

Lots of hand kisses….

There would be a lot of laughter and the both of you feel like you’re falling in love with each other all over again.

Boy is a simp.

He would also get you a necklace with his initials on it to make sure everyone knows you’re his s/o.

Possessive much?

The sunset was beautiful as it illuminated both you and Oikawa from the other side of the cafe window making both of you look like you’re glowing.

It was your birthday and Oikawa took a day off from volleyball and took you out on a birthday date to a vacant cafe. It was quiet and private, just what the two of you desperately wanted. The atmosphere was warm and homely with the smell of freshly baked pastries and freshly brewed coffee in the air. The cafe was lowly lit with fairly lights hanging around the room castings soft glow in its path. It was as romantic and lovely as it could get.

Oikawa was holding one of your hands across the table as the two of you shared a large slice of cheesecake to celebrate your special day. He smiles at you with a smile so genuine, you feel as if you’re floating because not many people receive them from him.

With a sudden smirk, Oikawa lifted up his spoon and brought a piece of cheesecake up to your lips and said “open up princess.”

Not wanting to hurt his feelings you took his offering and ate it. After swallowing, you let out a loud laugh quickly joined by Oikawa himself. “Never do that again,” you laughed covering your mouth with your free hand.

“You’re right, that was majorly embarrassing and sappy,” he responded lifting his spoon to your mouth again. With a soft nudge of his foot you grudgingly opened your mouth to eat the cheesecake. To outsiders you may have seemed annoyed but the shine in your eyes said otherwise.

The both of you adored each other.

K. Kenma

Kenma would definitely buy you a Nintendo Switch with Animal Crossing.

He would shut out the world and hog you in his room to teach you how to play animal crossing all day.

I can also see Kenma buying stickers and sparkles for you to decorate it.

You would force him to decorate his as well so yours doesn’t seem crazy.

The two of you would sit crisscross on his bed decorating your Nintendo’s.

After that he actually starts explaining how Anime Crossing works.

Kenma would get carried away explaining the game to you but you just let him because he is super excited to share something he loves with you.

You have a smile on your face the entire time because Kenma has all his attention on you and making today special for you.

Kenma would steal your resources when you’re not looking and run to his own island.

Sitting crisscrossed on Kenma’s fluffy bed you smiled to yourself and felt your heart beat quicken as Kenma went on about how fun Anime Crossing is. Even though you basically knew how to work the game you let Kenma continue because he’s speaking with such joy in his eyes.

You guys had just finished decorating your Nintendo’s with Kenma’s being a cat theme and yours being a bumble bee theme. At first Kenma was hesitant about decorating his but after a little coaxing he agreed.

The decorating process included a bunch of sparkle throwing and laughter. You got into a glitter fight because Kenma wouldn’t share the light blue bottle of glitter. So naturally you threw brown glitter at him. It was a mess because as soon as that glitter hit Kenma, he dumped the blue glitter into you and said “here’s the sparkles you wanted kitten.”

You practically died when he called you “kitten”.

K. Akaashi

He would take you to a big bookstore and hand you his credit card with a wink, lean down and whisper into your ear, “go crazy, my love.”

He would watch you run down the aisles stuffing your arms full of books.

He would offer to hold them while you browsed books.

Sugar daddy vibes. Big dick energy.

He’d watch you for hours studying books and he would even add a few that he thought you might like into your arms

Akaashi isn’t one to smile too often but today, in the privacy of the shelves he was full of sweet smiles. He adored you and how your eyes glowed with excitement.

Akaashi would’ve asked you what your favourite book was a month ago. You thought it was a normal question since the two of you often swapped book recommendations.

But you soon find out he annotated your favourite book with his comments and thoughts and snook it into your bag for you to find.

At the end of the day as you guys are cuddling he would read you a book.

Akaashi had a soft smile on his face as he watched you browse through the rows of shelves filled with books. The atmosphere was quiet and smelled of books and pumpkin spice and the warm colours really set the mood for the afternoon.

One of his arms were occupied by books you have picked out earlier and in the other hand he carried an ice coffee that he frequently drank from. He was a sight for sore eyes. His hair was messily tossed and he wore a baby blue sweatshirt with a tiny white heart in the centre. The sweatshirt was matching yours, a white sweatshirt with a small blue heart in the centre. You had went through a whole lot of struggle to convince him to match with you but in the end you had won the fight obviously. He secretly enjoyed matching with you but he wouldn’t ever admit to it.

Whenever you placed a new book into his arms you’d plaster him with kisses and thank him profusely. He had spoiled you and you knew it. He truly loved you and you were very thankful.

Akaashi had also planned to read to you will cuddling tonight. He would sit you down between his legs while in your bed and start reading for the next few hours. His soothing voice would eventually put you to sleep.

The glock glock 3000 is also in place tonight if you know what I mean. 😩

T. Kuroo

This man is a literal dork and you can’t convince me otherwise.

Stationary. He would get you the cutest stationary ever. Kuroo would gift you the stationary in a decorative box with a red bow. (#school pride)

Along with the stationary, he would gift you a customized phone case with a picture of the two of you that was taken on a previous date.

Hidden at the bottom of the gift box Kuroo would hide another custom phone case but this time with a pretty yk... hot picture of himself. If you know, you know.

BUT that’s not all, Kuroo would then proceed to take you on a road trip across Tokyo. 

With what car? I don’t know, just don’t think about it too much about it...

On the road the two of your would sing your hearts out to your favourite songs.

A shit loud of laughing.

Kuroo has his hands of your thigh the whole time....

You guys would stop by at ice cream shops, gift shops and whatnot and just have a really good time.

You sang your heart out as you and Kuroo drove around the outskirts of Tokyo. The windows down, the wind blowing your hair, and the fresh air engulfing the two of you. You both wore your sunglasses and had big smiles on your faces. It was peaceful and relaxing, just what you had wanted for your birthday after Kuroo gave you that very suggestive gift.

Who knew just driving around was so fun. You and Kuroo were alone in his car, his hand on your thigh and the other on the wheel. It was a look that could kill. You felt as if you were dreaming. Everything was just so perfect.

Taking a short detour from your road trip the both of you went into a small ice cream parlour to buy some ice cream. With ice creams secured, the two of you sat on some beaches outside the parlour and enjoyed your ice cream.

That was until Kuroo suddenly lunges for your ice cream, taking a gigantic bite out of it. You yelled and pulled the ice cream away from him and glared.

“KUROO! THAT WAS MY ICE CREAM!” You yelled jokingly at him while narrowing your eyes.

Kuroo only smirked and resumed eating his own ice cream not even apologizing to you. You were offended greatly.

“Bitch,” you mumbled under your breathe.

“What was that, sweetheart?” Kuroo asked innocently turning to face you again.

“Nothing…” you replied innocently with a smile on your face. An idea had struck your head.

Before Kuroo could go back to eating his ice cream you quickly leaned over and took a large bite out of his as well. Right as he was about to scold you, you ran away towards the car, ready to lock yourself in until Kuroo got over his ice cream.

K. Bokuto

Poor baby would struggle to think of something for your birthday.

He would get all sad the month of your birthday but he just wouldn't tell you why.

He would ask Akaashi for his help but Bokuto would say “but that’s your idea and it didn’t come from my heart.”

“You were the one who asked for my help...” Akaashi would mumble while walking away to do serving drills.

Maybe this was the middle of the night but then Bokuto gets the sudden idea of painting rocks for you. Just go along with it.

So the next day Bokuto went incognito on you. 

He has the whole black hoodie, hood up, glasses ordeal.

And that’s exactly how Bokuto went into the store to buy paint supplies.

For the next few days leading up to your birthday Bokuto locked himself into his room to paint.

He wouldn’t tell anybody about it. Not even you or Akaashi. 

When it was time to assemble the gift he also bought you a shit ton of your favourite snacks. 

So when it came down to it, everyone was dumbfounded when you opened your gift. 

Akaashi made a chocking sound while trying to conceal his laughter.

You loved it regardless of what other people thought because you knew Bokuto put his heart and soul into painting the two of you as rock people in marriage outfits. He also painted many of your guys friends.

Period.

“Bo! Open up, I miss you!” you yelled through the door to his room. Bokuto, aka your boyfriend has locked himself in his room for the past 2 days. He refused to come out and wouldn’t budge at all.

“Go away y/n! I love you but I am REALLY busy at the moment, babe!” he yelled back through the door.

You let out a small sigh and tried again, “Bo, when will you come out then?” you asked using your sweetest voice in hopes of luring him out.

“Maybe in a couple hours,” He responded, not even phased by your voice.

“Well have fun Bo but I’m telling you now, our friends are coming in a few hours for my birthday party… You’ll have to come out then or I’ll get Akashi to kick this door down and drag you outside,” you half jokingly said to the door.

“Keiji-chan wouldn’t bother kicking down the door, let alone drag me out, Y/N,” Bokuto responded, still unbothered.

At least you’re self aware… you thought to yourself before giving up yet again. “Fine,” you pouted through the door.

“That won’t work on me today, y/n! I know what you’re trying to do. You’re making that pouty face!” Bokuto yelled.

It was definitely working. But he still didn’t come out. Who knew Bokuto could resist your pout.

T. Yamaguchi

This cutie would cook a homemade meal for you.

Purest fucking shit ever.

Throughout the month he would listen closely to you whenever food was the topic being discussed.

He kept tabs on all your favourite food.

The day of your birthday Yamaguchi would get the team to spend the day with you. 

You wondered why Yamaguchi wasn’t spending time with you but you got a text saying that “he didn’t feel well”.

You let it slide because you trusted him and you woudn’t want to make him feel worse. 

So as you hung out with the team, Yamaguchi spent the whole day cooking all the your favourite foods. 

From baked treats, to delicious savoury food to even homemade ice cream.

At the end of the day, Yamaguchi would text you to come visit him and of course you said yes. 

When Yamaguchi opened the door you were immediately met with the mind blowing smells of delecious food.

“Tadashi! You didn’t have to do all this,” you whispered looking at all the food on the kitchen table. There were tears in your eyes because your heart just couldn’t take how sweet he was. He had spent the entire day inside, away from you just so he can surprise you with the best present you have ever received.

Everything Yamaguchi had made came from his heart and you knew it. You tuned around and gave Yamaguchi the biggest hug ever. Thanking him nonstop for all of his hard work and effort.

“Anything to make you the happiest, Y/N!” he responded with a big and sweet smile while hugging you very tightly.

The two of you sat down after the exchange of hugs and dug into the food.

“Sorry Y/N, I’m not the best cook but I know you love homemade meals so I tried my best,” Yamaguchi said scratching his neck as you took a bite out of a crepe.

“NO, NO! THIS IS GREAT,” you tried yelling as your mouth was full, your arms swinging willingly around indicating you loved it.

Yamaguchi broke into an even bigger smile and felt so proud of himself. (As he should, no back talk.)

After eating for almost half an hour, the two of you were stuffed to the brim. Yet there was still so much food on the table. “Ugh, Tadashi, I think you made too much food. There’s so much left there is enough to feed a whole volleyball team who just finished an intense game actually,” you slowly said, barley feeling anything as you felt so very stuffed.

“Yah, I’ve realized,” Yamaguchi replied as slowly as you had relied. He too was stuffed.

“Maybe we could call the team over?” you suggested?

“You know what, that’s a good idea. I’ll go call them right now!” He piped up. He then proceeded to waddle down the hall towards the phone. God he was so adorable.

K. Sakusa

Y'all are gonna kill me for this one...

Sakusa would probably get you scented hand sanitizer, but hear me out! At the very beginning of your relationship he has always been very observant to everything about you.

So naturally he has picked up on your favourite colours, habits, quirks and etc.

But most importantly the scents that you like.

So, Sakusa went out of his way and went into public to buy you a haul of hand sanitizers that are your favourite scents.

He may or may not have bought you enough to last for a long while…

But contrary to popular belief, Sakusa is an extra ass bitch when it comes to you so he decided to get you a few other things as well.

And well… he also gets you personalized masks that would match with his.

Like imagine how cute it would be if you guys were to go somewhere and the two of you were wearing matching masks…

HELL YES.

Just imagine right before his match and he’s showing off his s/o without actually showing off his s/o. Now, that’s a flex.

Sakusa wasn’t usually one for big gestures or pda, but when it’s just you and him in the safety of his room, he loved cuddling. The boy was practically touch starved.

Today was your birthday and the two of you had spent all day together in his room doing gods know what. When you’re dating Sakusa, nothing is boring. Especially when the two of you would make everything into a competition. And ladies and gentlemen that’s how the two of you survived in his room without getting bored.

So as you cuddled him after a long day of friendly competition, you were surprised when Sakusa pulled out a small bag containing your gift.

“So, I wanted to get you a little something as a thank you and birthday gift, Y/N. You make my life so much more entertaining and I feel alive when I am with you,” he said to you with a glow in his eyes that you have never seen before.

You were dumbfounded but that quickly lead to tears. “You didn’t have to get me a gift, but I appreciate so much,” you whispered crawling into his lap and laying your head on top of his shoulder.

“You deserve it,” he calmly said turning his head a little to kiss your cheek.

T. Kageyama

Baby boy would gift you a spa night together.

We all know how well Kageyama takes care of his hands so it is only natural to assume he does secret spa nights. You can’t tell me otherwise.

SO for your birthday he let you in on his secret.

He took the liberty of taking the day off just to spend the whole day with you.

You guys would spend the whole day together cruising around town and fooling around but eventually when you get back to Kageyama’s house he presents you with your birthday gift.

Face masks, relaxing music, pedicures, manicures, smoothie bowls, candles and message guns. Everything, you just name it.

He would let you choose whatever you wanted to do first and this would go on until the very late hours of the night.

Eventually the two would snuggle up on his bed and watch Disney movies while eating caramel popcorn.

The two of you were snuggled nice and comfy on Kageyama’s bed as a movie played in the background. You had just spent most of your evening with Kageyama and participating in your spa day gift.

Both you and Kageyama have face masks on and fluffy bunny ear headbands keeping your guys hair out of the way. Kageyama chose the headbands. The two of you had done your nails together earlier in the night as well. Matching sets, although the painting process was a little messy.

“Kags?” You whispered.

“Yes Y/N?” He responded immediately.

“How did you even come up with this birthday idea? Don’t get me wrong I love it very much but I am curious,” you asked, genuinely curious.

“I kind of heard you talking to Yachi once about never experiencing a spa day. So I decided I wanted you to experience it with me. I also love this kind of stuff so I thought you might like it aswell,” he explained calmly.

“Stalker,” you playfully mumbled.

“HEY! I HEARD THAT! AND IM NOT STALKING YOU! YOU’RE JUST VERY LOUD.” Kageyama quietly yelled, getting defensive very fast.

Sometimes you wonder if Kageyama can understand sarcasm or not.

[mageicalwishes]

Day 1, Found Family - New Traditions

The Gang start a new Festive tradition filled with love, laughter, music, food & fun.

Day 2, Distance - Say I Love You When You’re Not Listening

Baz reflects on the events of Wayward Son, and the hopelessness he feels. "A trip to try and save him - To save us. A last ditch effort to put some of the sunshine back in to his soul. Rammed together in economy, the press of his knee firm against mine, but his mind miles away. His eyes ever averted. Touching yet so far apart. I just wish I knew where I went wrong."

Day 3, Retellings - Changing History

The Mage's publicized documents reveal a myriad of painful truths about the loss of Natasha Grimm-Pitch and the origins of Simon Snow.

Day 4, Side Characters - Thawing Of A Heart

Malcolm & Daphne. “I’d always known that I would remarry eventually. It was my duty for the good of the family. Basil needed a mother. And I needed … someone. It was a simple, logical decision - To find a woman of good breeding, and give her the Grimm name. To carry on. But, through all my planning and preparation, I had never anticipated that I would fall in love. Never anticipated her."

Day 5, Sleepless - Tonight He Is Mine

"I can’t sleep. I can never sleep these days, not how I want to anyway - It's always either that I’m knocked out for 15 hours, waking up disoriented and heavy, or that I can barely catch a moment's rest. But today is different. My body is tired, and my mind is too. If I let myself, I’d be gone. But I won’t. I can’t. Tonight is my last night with Baz, and I don’t want to miss a minute of it."

Day 6, WLW - To Her, I Taste Of Nothing At All

Fiona & Ebb. "But then, before I even knew what was happening, she was kissing me back. And Crowley, I swear I melted. She tasted of cigarette smoke and spiced rum - Like fire personified."

Day 7, Animal(s) - Family Dog

My interpretation of ‘I was a 15-year-old closet case whose parents pretended they didn’t notice when the family dog disappeared’. “A shallow grave. So much less than she deserves. But … I can’t breathe. I can’t even think. I’m running on autopilot and adrenaline alone. Everything is just - I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know how I got here. I'm losing control. I can't - I can't even look at her. She's still wrapped in my sheets. I can see her bleeding. I still want it. I still want more."

Day 8, Rain - From Across The Courtyard

"When I first met him, it was hammering it down. I was rushing to the main door in a desperate attempt to rescue my suede shoes, umbrella snagging against the wind, when I heard it - An impolite 'Oi! Are you new?'"

Day 9, Kids/Childhood - At The Top Of A Tower

Simon reflects on the few happy memories he made with Baz at Watford.

Day 10, Crossover - I’ll Give You The Stars

A loose crossover between Carry On and parts of I'll Give You The Sun. “He’s haloed under the streetlights, and I’m trying not to stare. But, it’s hard. His face is celestial - The sunshine of his soul peeking through his features. I want to say more, just so that he doesn’t leave. Our houses are right there but, I feel so ... multicoloured."

Day 11, Fluff - Keeping Warm

Simon & Baz spend a tentative first night together after the events of the forest fire. “He’s sighing against me, and sliding a hand up towards to my neck to hold me closer against him, and - Fuck. He’s freezing. I jolt backwards without meaning to. Staring down at him in awe - His pupils blown wide, and a faint (But definitely present) blush spread across his cheeks."

Day 12, Wings - The Guests Can Wait

"Weddings are even more exhausting than I had imagined. What with the panicked last minute search for Simon’s vows (Which ended up being in the mini-fridge of all places), and having to parade ourselves around all of our well-wishing friends and family. All I want to do was get him alone. To tell him, without the presence of a hundred witnesses, how much he means to me - How much the fact that we’re here, together, after everything, means to me."

Day 13, Below the Surface - Below The Surface

"Las Vegas is a sham of a city. Outside it’s all bright lights and glitzy shows - Normal magicians and celebrity chefs. But, beneath its shiny exterior, it’s nothing more than a grim desert, filled with counterfeit culture, and people burning through money they don’t really have. The Katherine is no exception."

Day 14, Constellation(s) - Mirror, Mirror

Simon struggles with his body image Post-Carry On. “Sometimes I just … get so mad at them (At myself, really). I wish that they’d just grow up and tell me like it is. Tell me how much I’ve disappointed them. Tell me that they no longer want me."

Day 15, Hurt/Comfort - First Aid

Simon cares for Baz's Buckshot wounds. Less angsty re-write of the scene in Wayward Son. “I glare at him - At his blackened under eyes, and matted hair. The slight hunch of his back. It does hurt. I know it does. Liar. I move my face closer to his, and breathe in his air. I want to hug him. To kiss him. To cheer him up, somehow. Make him better. But I can’t. I don’t know how. So, instead I step away. My hands dropping limply, to my sides."

Day 16, Meme/Crack - Baby, You Can Pick Me Up Any Day

Oovoo Javer? Oovoo Javer. AKA: Baz is Simon's slightly dickhead-ish Uber driver. “I kept trying to talk to him - Asking about his night, and whether he always listens to Classical music, or if it was just for show - but he ignored me. Staring unamusedly at me in the mirror, eyebrow raised and lips tilted downwards. He got 2 stars for that trip."

Day 17, Blanket Fort - Torch The Night-Filled Fort

Baz surprises Simon with a living room blanket fort transformation. “I turn to him, beaming. ‘Baz, what? What is this?’ He hums against me. ‘Blanket fort. You’re terribly inobservant, Snow.’ ‘Yeah, but … I mean, why?’ ‘Well, it’s been a year now since we left for America, and we’ve come a long way since then. Thought it was worth celebrating,’ he confesses, smiling shyly down at the floor.”

Day 18, Side Ships - You Got A Boyfriend?

Shepard & Penny. Shepard asks Penny a very important question (Well, in his mind, anyway).

Day 19, Misunderstanding - Wrong Bottle, Moron

Simon makes a VERY stupid mistake while showering. Cue, Baz coming to his rescue.

Day 20, Technology - Screenless

Baz and Simon have been chatting online for a year. It's finally time to meet IRL and take their relationship into HD reality.

Day 21, Warmth - Out In The Cold

Fangirl era. Simon and Baz get stuck in a snowstorm, and have to find a way to stay warm.

Day 22, Unlikely Friends - You’re My Bro

Shepard comes over to hang out with his bro ... Baz?

Day 23, Cooking/Baking - What’s Cookin’ Good Lookin’?

Simon is making dinner. Baz is soft.

Day 24, Song - He Made It Easy, Darlin’

Simon & Baz struggle with trying to take the next step in their relationship. Inspired by Easy by Troye Sivan

Day 25, Parallel Universe - Parallelt Univers

Simon and Baz spend the day recovering in bed, after their first kiss. Inspired by the 'Parallel Universes' talk from Skam.

Day 26, Break - I Think We Should Break Up

Simon is trying to do what's right for Baz. Baz disagrees.

Day 27, Snowstorm - Searching In The Snow

Simon has lost his cat. So the only obvious choice is to hammer on his neighbour's door at 2AM ... And Baz is not impressed.

Day 28, Party - Festivities, Food, and Family. Chapter 1

"I’m over the bloody moon. After everything that happened after we left Watford, I wasn’t sure that I’d ever get to see this Snow - a truly joyful Snow - again. And it broke my heart. Yet, here we are, spending our fifth anniversary together, surrounded by friends and family in our own little London flat."

Day 29, Secret Santa/Gift Giving - Festivities, Food, and Family. Chapter 2

Day 30, Any Way the Wind Blows - Worst Road Trip ... Ever!

Shepard is NOT enjoying his trip back to England with the Gang. "I feel like a kid again, sat in the back of my mothers pick-up, hyped up on sugar, but belted down to the seat. Unable to run. Constantly being shushed."

Also huge thanks and praise goes to everyone involved in running the @carryon-countdown Countdown this year!!! I really enjoyed taking part :)

[amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines]

Ashton//Sucker

Request: I noticed you take the request for FP for the song Sucker. Could you do the same thing for Ashton please?

Its a college au wooooo!

part 2 

Ashton Irwin was something different. 

Some people would call him an enigma. You would call them stupid. 

He was different, yes. Like nothing you’d ever met before and he made you feel things no one else had. He was tall, with dark hair and bright eyes. Tattoos littered his body and you loved to trace them as the two of you fell asleep together. He was cocky, arrogant and very confident in himself. He knew he was hot, as well as extremely talented and smart. And he made sure everyone else knew too. But was he an enigma? No. Okay, maybe he was. 

He also had a reputation around campus. He was very well known for breaking girls hearts (and beds) and then leaving them before they woke up the next morning. 

But that didn’t stop you from falling for him as soon as he approached you in that college bar. 

As soon as his darkened eyes met yours while you danced with friends to the new Jonas Brothers song, you were gone. 

You knew it. He knew it. Everybody in that bar probably knew it. Watching Ashton pick his next girl. 

And even though you were highly aware of his reputation, it didn’t stop the two of you stumbling out of the bar together and him pressing you against the wall in the alley, marking you as his for the night before stumbling back to your dorm. 

The next day, when you woke up with a killer hangover, you weren’t surprised when you found the spot beside you cold.  

But what did surprise you was when he turned up outside your dorm at 2 in the morning a few days later. As soon as you opened the door his lips were on yours, pushing you back into the room and kicking the door closed behind him. 

It surprised him too. He’d never gone back to the same girl. I mean, if it was in the same night he would go for a few rounds, but after he left, he never set foot in their rooms ever again. 

But you were different, nothing like he’d ever met. And if he didn’t know any better he would say you were an enigma. You had him hooked (not that he would ever admit that to anyone, especially himself) and he didn’t like it. He never liked girls like this, but there was just something about you that kept him coming back.

The effect you had on him was starting to fuck him up. Because now he had real life feelings for someone and he didn’t know what to do with them. He’d never felt like this for anyone, and the thought of him liking you, even worse, being in love with you, terrified him. So he kept it casual. Coming over a couple times a week at like 2am. 

But then a couple turned into a few, and 2am turned into 2pm. And the ‘just sex’ turned into actually talking to each other and getting to know one another. And then he invited you to hang out with his friends, and that surprised everyone, which freaked him out, making him go home early leaving you in a bar with three of his very rowdy friends. 

After that he ignored you for a few weeks, but when he heard that you’d failed one of your tests causing you lock yourself away from the world, only coming out for classes, he found himself walking over to your dorm with your favourite flowers to cheer you up. And then he took you out, not on a date, as two people hanging out together so he could cheer you up, and when you started to get upset again he stood on a car in the middle of a very busy street and did a stupid dance just to see you smile. And then he grabbed your hand and ran when the owner of said car chased the two of you away. 

He took you back to his dorm. Which he had never done with anyone. Not even some of his closest friends had seen the inside of his dorm, let alone anyone he’d slept with, so when his roommate Calum walked into the bathroom and saw you peeing, you were traumatized, Calum was the most confused he’d ever been as well as embarrassed, and slightly hurt when Ashton had called him an idiot and told him to disappear for a bit. 

Basically he’d follow you anywhere you went, and you’d do the same for him. You couldn’t get enough for each other. 

And you thought you’d found your soulmate at college, something you’d only seen in movies and heard in stories. 

That was until seven months after you’d met...

“Ash?” You ask into the darkened bedroom. The two of you trying to regain your breath after leaving another party early. You’d been teasing him all day, and after he saw you dancing with a couple of guys from your class, he dragged you from the party and back to his dorm.

He hums in reply while his gaze remained on the ceiling. “I like you. Like really like you.” You admit quietly and you hear him sigh softly before eventually pulling his attention away from the dull ceiling, instead settling on the top of your head. You thought now would be the best time to tell him. You thought he would return it and the two of you would live happily ever after. But judging by his reaction, you’d just made a stupid mistake. The stupidest one you’d probably ever make. Well, right after falling for him.

You remain lying on his chest but you can feel him staring at you and you suddenly feel very exposed, even more so than you already are. He sits up quickly and your head falls off his chest making you glare at him for a few seconds before sitting up yourself, pulling the duvet over your chest. “Ash?” You repeat and touch his shoulder gently. However he pulls away from your touch and your gaze drops to the soft bedsheet surrounding the two of you. 

“Y/n. We have a good thing going. Don’t complicate it, yeah?” 

“Yeah.” You nod, still staring at the sheets. He hooks a finger under your chin and lifts it gently until you’re staring into his hazel eyes. 

“Thats my girl.” He smiles at you before connecting your lips. The kiss is passionate, like usual, but it feels different this time, at least for you. Its still dizzying, but there’s something about it that isn’t right. And you can’t figure out if thats good or bad. Once he pulls away, you’re left breathless for a few seconds and he takes the opportunity to lie back down.

“But.” You start and he sighs again, running his hand down his face. “I know you and you know everything about me. We spend all our free time together and we support each other. I don’t understand whats so wrong about giving us a label. I mean, I assume you like me too. Otherwise we wouldn’t be doing...this.” You gesture between the two of you and he closes his eyes. He’d been dreading this. He hasn’t figured out the right words, and he doesn’t really know what he’s doing. 

“Yeah.” He replies. He’s not entirely sure where he’s going with this, but when he opens his eyes and see’s your hurt expression, all the words he could have possibly said, leave him. And now he has nothing, only the things he usually says to girls when they get attached. “But I mean, thats just because well, we get each other. It doesn’t mean anything.” He shrugs and your jaw drops. What are you doing? He’s screaming at himself but he can’t seem to stop. Its the only thing he knows how to do, break girls hearts. And maybe if this is all he knows, you’re better off without him. “Like, yeah. We spend time together. But I spend time with other girls too. That doesn’t mean I’m in love with them. We’re in a good place Y/n. I think we should keep it that way.”

“Excuse me?” Your eyebrows raise and he gulps, already preparing himself for the worst. “I have spent seven months of my life getting to know you, falling for you. You’re the only thing on my mind when I wake up and before I go to sleep. Literally, you say the word and I’ll follow you blindly. And now you’re telling me that its all a waste of time? That you were just using me and you feel nothing for me?”

...no “Yes.” He replies and you shake your head, before standing up.

“Fuck you Ashton!” You shout, and he flinches at the use of his full name. You only ever call him Ash now. “You know, I thought you were different. I mean I knew you had a reputation and I thought I was different. I thought you liked me. And I-I thought you were different.” You sob while gathering your clothes. He doesn’t even try to stop you, to reach out to you and that hurts you even more. “Turns out your just like every other guy I ever loved.” You shake your head, looking at him one last time before storming out, slamming the door behind you. 

You feel like you can’t breath as soon as you’re in the hallway. Your jacket and shoes are bunched up in your arms and the tears in your eyes are blurring your vision as you slip them on. You shove your hands in your pocket, stopping when you feel a slip of paper. Slowly you take it out and unfold it, your breath hitching in your throat as you read it. 

In his stupid handwriting is a page from one of your many notebooks with the words ‘i’m a sucker for you’ written on it. You remember him ripping some paper from your notebook while you were trying to study and he was was keeping you company. You tried to look at what he was writing, but he moved the paper away from you and hunched over it, blocking your view. “You’ll see it when you need to.” He replied and you rolled your eyes before going back to studying. 

That sweet memory turns sour within seconds and you shake your head, folding it back up and slipping it under the crack of his door. 

He’s on the other side of the door, his hand hovering above the handle while he tries to figure out the words to say. Because he loves you, he’s just scared. He’s never felt this way about someone and he doesn’t want to fuck it up. But when he see’s the paper sliding under the door. 

He knows its too late. 

He’s already fucked up. 

[jisungsmochi]

shining star - chenle

literally came up with this idea at 2am and just kept writing so i’m posting it bc it’s my first chenle imagine and i am pretty proud of it hehe, hope you all enjoy, idk how long this is but its very fluffy and has some angst in you squint. 

prompt(?):

“you have detention?” you question the boy.

“and you’re in a musical?” he strikes back, followed by a small grin.

highschool!au , friends to lovers?, musical themed hehe

————-

“all students who are taking part in the next musical production, please meet in the theatre after school for your first meeting” the announcement over the speakers echoed through the halls and in classrooms.

“imagine being in the school musical” you heard boys behind you tease, followed by obnoxious laughter. you turned around to see who they were, not to your surprise it was chenle, and his group. chenle’s eyes met yours, he saw the expression on your face and instantly stopped smiling.

what a jerk, you thought to yourself.

you turned back around and resumed listening to the lesson, taking down notes before placing a reminder on your phone that you had a meeting for the musical. you weren’t the lead, this time. but you were hoping that in the next production, you will be. you were happy with playing the supporting role, just as long as you had some lines. the musicals at school were a safe haven for you. you were supported by people who had the same passion and the activities your drama teacher allowed you guys to participate in, made you enjoy lessons even more. although most of the school focused on the sporting teams, you were pleased with the theatre group. aside from occasional teasing, such as from chenle and his friends, you adored being in musicals.

“you haven’t handed in your assignment from two weeks ago, despite the extension. i have to put you in detention” your english teacher shook his head in disappointment as chenle groaned. you weren’t sure if he was annoyed or upset that he was in detention. you could never really tell.

your eyes met his again, he immediately broke the contact and made his way back to his seat.

the bell rang, signalling the end of school. your phone dinged with the reminder for the meeting. you rushed to the theatre, placing your bag in the designated spot and focusing on your teacher’s instructions.

“okay, today will be quite an easy day since it is our first meeting. i will be going over the opening scene with the leads so all other crew members, please begin to brainstorm costume ideas and set designs!” your teacher ordered, and immediately everyone dispersed into their designated roles. you decided you were going to read over your lines and highlight them in some pretty pastel colours. you situated yourself near the steps on the stage, legs crossed and focusing on reading.

after a few scenes, you decided to take a break, something caught your sight on your left. you furrowed your eyebrows and followed your senses. before you knew it, you were met with chenle towering over you, with a blank expression on his face.

“what are you doing here?” you spoke.

“what do you think?” he crossed his arms and looked at his feet.

“you have detention?” you questioned the boy.

“and you’re in a musical” he strikes back, followed by a small grin. you couldn’t help but crack a small smile.

“so what? you’re here to help with the sets?” you questioned him further, honestly trying to pass time.

“i’m more of just a stage hand i guess.” he shrugged, finally looking you in the eyes.

it wasn’t like you hated him. you didn’t really hate people. but sometimes, the things he said just got on your nerves.

“are you the lead, in the musical?” he loosened up, standing more comfortably in front of you as you continued this casual conversation.

“um no i’m not. i’m the supporting lead, it’s still something!” you smiled shyly, afraid he might tease you.

“what? you’re not the lead?? and soojin is? but you’re a great singer” his face was contorted in a confused expression.

“how would you know that?” you perked up, while smiling.

“i’ve heard you at the talent show, and you do know that you post singing videos on instagram?” he chuckled softly, making you pout.

“oh right, well i don’t know, maybe she’s just better at acting!” you tried to excuse, but he wasn’t convinced.

“possibly, well um, while we’re talking, do you mind if we just chill during these meetings? until my detention is lifted and all, i literally have no one” chenle proposed, which made you quite flattered that he enjoyed your company.

“oh yeah sure! i’ll teach you about stage directions and stuff, just so you’re not confused and all” you offered, which caused him to smile widely and nod.

“thankyou so much” he held his hands in a prayer pose.

“my pleasure” you laughed before telling him where to move certain objects.

——————

two weeks passed by and you’d say that chenle had picked up the theatre terms pretty quickly.

“you sure you don’t wanna be in the musical?” you joked as he was playing around with the microphone settings.

“oh yeah for sure, can’t believe i missed auditions” he joked in return, shaking his head before handing you the microphone.

“should be good to go” he smiled before giving you a thumbs up. you mouthed a quick ‘thank you’ before facing your teacher. you began singing your duet with the supporting male lead. it was going smoothly until you completely blanked and forgot the next lines. the music automatically stopped,

“y/n! what’s going on? you’ve had 2 weeks to prepare so far” your teacher sounded disappointed and slightly annoyed. you sighed quietly before apologising and running off stage. chenle was about to stop you before you shoved past him, tears leaking from your eyes. he heard your sniffles and ran after you. you stopped running as you left the theatre, backing yourself against the wall. chenle caught up and faced you.

“i can’t do it” you sobbed. your chest was heavy and your breathing was irregular. he noticed and placed a hand on your arm.

“look at me, just calm down first okay? breathe with me. in.... and out” chenle tried his best to help you.

you followed his orders before speaking again.

“i can’t freeze up like that in the real show. i just can’t. i need to keep singing. even if i fuck it up” you sighed to yourself, sliding down the wall to sit on the ground. he copied you and sat next to you, your shoulders touching.

“hey, at least this was rehearsal. you’ve kicked ass, all the way up to now. don’t let this scare you!” he spoke to you in such a lovely manner, it eased your worries.

“i know i know. i just can’t help but feel this way” you look at him. your face stained with tears, but you still gave him a small smile. he wiped some of the tears with his thumbs, before saying,

“let’s cut this rehearsal short. you deserve some ice cream” he pulled you up from the ground and pulled you in for an embrace. you would admit that you had come to a liking of chenle. he was so helpful as a stage hand, and always showed up on time. he always gave you a small thumbs up before you were about to sing, and always waited for you when rehearsal was finished to catch the bus home. you nodded at his offer, grabbing your bag you had placed in your locker and walked out of school with chenle by your side.

—————-

chenle had served his detention, but still remained as a stage hand, in which your teacher didn’t mind as he was genuinely helpful with the props and tech equipment. it was two weeks before opening night. after almost every rehearsal, chenle would be right by your side when going home. the entire time you both had been working together, he hadn’t said one negative thing about musicals. he had become accustomed to the quick paced yet laid back nature of the theatre. but what he wouldn’t admit, is that he enjoyed watching you on stage. you smiled so brightly, you sang like an angel. he couldn’t get enough. his friends often teased him for wanting to remain a stage hand, but he ignored them, knowing it was worth it.

after this particular rehearsal, you ran up to chenle and hugged him tightly. he was taken aback, slowly placing his arms around you and patting your back softly.

“i didn’t make any mistakes today!!” you cheered, pulling away from him, still leaving your hands around his forearm.

“i know! you were great, as usual” he complimented, which made you blush. you shook your head before speaking,

“thankyou for always having my back. i’ll treat you to an early dinner. what do you want?” you offered kindly.

“actually, i have to get back home, but how about, this weekend? we can go out for lunch or something” chenle crossed his fingers in his mind that you would agree. you nodded immediately,

“yeah sure!! message me when you’re free!” you smiled before completely letting go of him and leaving the theatre.

he couldn’t control himself, as he fisted the air and cheered quietly.

————-

saturday afternoon, you had agreed to meet with chenle at your local bowling alley, as the onion rings were to die for there.

you were onto the eighth bowl, chenle leading by 40 points.

“this isn’t fair! you’re too good!” you complain, poking his sides.

“am not! just know where to focus that’s all!” he defends before taking a bite of an onion ring. you giggled before taking your turn.

“here i’ll show you” he came up behind you, helping you position yourself properly.

you felt his fingers touch yours and you couldn’t help but blush.

“okay so you see that middle pin? just try your best to aim there and keep your arm steady!” he looked at you for assurance as you nodded in response. he left your side to watch, as you did exactly what he had said. you both watched as the ball rolled right towards the middle pin, although you did not get a strike you still managed to known down nine pins. you ran over to chenle, arms wide as he embraced you warmly and spun you around shortly.

“did you see that?!” you were ecstatic, he admired your excitement.

“i know!! you’re a pro already” he smiled.

“ah you’re too kind!” you complimented.

on the way back to your house, chenle had been walking close to you, where your shoulder touched and at any moment your fingers would link.

“thank you so much for today!! only a week or so until opening night!! this really helped calm my nerves. i appreciate your support over these past few weeks. i hope we still stay friends after this” you didn’t know why that last sentence felt so uncomfortable to say. you didn’t want to be just friends.

“oh yeah no problem!! you really kept me sane. i’m sorry for talking bad about musicals before, i just never really paid attention to them! you’ll smash it on opening night! i’ll be cheering! and yeah, we will be friends” a part of him felt hurt to finish off that sentence as well.

you gave him one last hug, which lingered for longer than your normal hugs.

“see you next week” you waved before entering your house, watching as he returned the action. what did you get yourself into?

—————-

it was the afternoon of opening night, everyone was running around everywhere. you had just finished the final rehearsal and were currently resting. you sat with chenle outside of the theatre again.

“you nervous?” he questioned, looking over at you.

“a little, i just don’t want to make any mistakes!” you sighed.

“and you won’t! here’s something to make you feel better” he pulled out a small box from his jacket pocket. you raised your eyebrows before opening the box, it was a key ring that had a star hanging from it.

“you didn’t have to get me something oh my god, flowers would have been perfectly fine!” you pulled him closer to you, listening as his laugh filled your ears.

“it’s okay! you deserve it. you’ll still be a star, even if you mess up. you’re such a good performer i can’t stress that enough” he avoided your eyes. you tried to gain his attention again, in which he complied.

“can i tell you something?” your stomach was going so many flips, you couldn’t contain yourself. he nodded slowly, allowing you to continue.

“without you, i would have probably given up by now. thank you for staying by my side. i can’t thank you enough for how nice you’ve been to me. and i think it would be a good time to say that, i really like you. like a lot. like i think about you after every small positive thing that happens to me because you are just such a positive person! and this gift is just so meaningful. you are such an amazing guy, and i hope you like me too” you blurted out , watching as his face became stunned. words refused to leave his mouth. you pouted softly, feeling slightly embarrassed.

“i was going to tell you that i liked you after the musical but you beat me to it. if it weren’t for you, i would have quit being a stage hand after my detention. but i really wanted you to see how amazing you are. i’ve known how amazing you were since the talent show. i was surprised to see that you were a supporting role. you deserve so much more. i admire all of your confidence, and i can’t get enough of you” he spoke with such admiration you began tearing up. you hugged him tightly, refusing to let go, mumbling ‘i like you so much’ in his chest. he softly giggled, “i like you too cutie”.

———

opening night was a success. as the final bows were being taken, you looked over at chenle and ushered him to join you on stage. he quickly shuffled to you and took a bow with the rest of the crew.

“congrats on everything” he whispered to you.

“you’re adorable” you mumbled before placing a quick peck on his cheek. he looked over to you in shock. you were unpredictable, quick witted and he was completely whipped for you.

musicals weren’t so bad after all.

[botwstoriesandsuch]

Not botw but I attempt to write things. 1827 words

Here is essentially a 2am reskin of one of my fics (The Storm) that I reworked so I could submit it as an “Alternate Fairy Tale Ending” project for creative writing. I apologize for the crappy dialogue but hey, at least I submitted it on time.

Also yes I researched it Red Riding Hood’s name was Blanchette ashhshhhshhshhh don’t question it

Ok here’s werewolf fights I guess

- - - - - 

The rain poured against her skin. Lightning struck in the distance, closely followed by a roar of thunder. For now, the sky was dull and overcast, the only colors being the murky grey shine of the storm. It would not last. Beneath the rushing clouds, the glimmer of the moon could be seen. It was full, and cast its light down on the earth below. Only it wasn’t white or silver, instead, it shone a blood red. 

She stood under the shadow of the forest, a small clearing around her. The grass, it’s deepest green, and it’s blades danced against wind. Droplets pattered against large grey rocks around the area. Pine trees shivered with their evergreen tusks, and dead bushes twitched and contorted in the breeze. The woods were alive, and full of fear. 

The clouds were now rushing across the sky at a violent speed, specks of dust could be seen under the velvet shine of the moon. The colors of the sky shifted from pitch to a blazing fire, the air now covered in scarlet shades. Under a blood moon like this, it was sure to come. Blanchette waited for grandmother to arrive.

A figure stumbled out of the dark, a woman, thin and bony. Its body was frail and weak, but the eyes reflected a hunger. It spoke.

“Blanchette, why on earth do you have a sword on your back?”

Ignoring the beast’s statement, the girl dared to take a step forward, her tone as unwavering as metal. “You messed with the wrong family, wolf.”

It chuckled, then laughed, then bellowed. Blunt, yellowing teeth were exposed, showing off an innocent elderly smile, as her grandmother laughed into the night. It walked closer, a silver nightgown blowing in the violent wind. 

“Do you not recognize me dearie? Perhaps you need to get your eyes checked. I’m your old sick grandmama, and I’m quite hungry. Do you still have those delicious cookies you brought from earlier?”

The rain poured down on Blanchette’s hood, but her gaze did not waver. 

“It is you who needs to better your vision. I suppose you didn’t count on angering someone from a family of werewolf hunters.”

It stopped walking. Tilting its head to the side like a dog, it asked, “Whatever have I done to anger you, dearie?”

“Well, for starters, it wasn’t very polite of you to devour the elderly. Attempting to chew on my head wasn’t ideal either.”

It laughed again, it seemed to be enjoying itself. Its voice sounded deeper and gruffer. Grandmother turned its gaze, raising an eyebrow towards Blanchette’s direction, but the girl continued.

“Last time you almost had me, but this,” she gestured to the sheathed sword on her back, ‘this, is going to change things.”

It grinned, “Why don’t we talk about this over dinner?”  

The moon glowed through the trees, its red light finally fell upon the grandmother. The glow caused black mist to appear on the field below. Tendrils, thick and smokey, trampled across the grass, shriveling flowers in its wake. The mass collected into a large conglomerate of black, red, and grey. It rose and expanded with hypnotic swirls, swarming around the grandmother. Its shape pulsed as it took to a large, animal-like form. Smoke became flesh, and flesh became monster, as the beast formed before her very eyes. Its large furry feet pounded against the ground, kicking up dirt. Its stomps made the surrounding trees shudder. It lifted its head to the scarlet sky and howled, its echo melding with the boom of thunder. 

The storm was now at its crescendo, the wind screamed in her ears. The rain soaked her clothes, the tunic hugging her skin. Her hood was begging to billow in the wind, the edges of its scarlet cloth blending with the night. But a single sword kept the hood fitted against her back. A silver sword, passed down through her family. 

The transformation was complete. The moon now waned back to its pale complexion, the sky darkened to oil. Winds lowered their screams, fading back to baleful whispers. The rain and thunder continued, but compared to the horrifying transformation that had happened, the forces of nature were welcome. 

Blanchette observed the creature that had been born out of the dark. Its body was the color of ash, fur soaked, eyes black as soot. Wind rushed through the beast’s silver fur, its claws and fangs were pearly white.  Its sharp teeth grinded against each other, an itch in the back of its throat asked for blood. The Werewolf’s familiar gaze settled on Blanchette. Its eerie eyes glared  at the girl, daring her to remove her hood and stare back. 

Perhaps it would be the last thing they ever saw.

Now the world was silent. The only sound Blanchette could hear was that of her own, rhythmic heartbeat. 

But she had done this before, slaying a beast. After all, her skill at spilling their blood had earned her the nickname, Red.

She sprinted towards the Wolf. 

Still not looking it in the eye, Red yelled as she approached. Her sword was still sheathed on her back, for she knew from experience that closing the distance between them was life or death. If it disarmed her too soon, she would be as defenseless as she was back in her grandmother’s house. The sword was too important, better to wait for the right moment. The Werewolf gave a familiar roar. A flick of its wrists and its claws extended out.

Strike now!

There were several advantages to being armed with only a single sword. It kept her light on her feet, the slim sheathe fastened securely so it wouldn’t fall off should she tumble, roll, or dodge out of danger. Furthermore, her speed was not burdened by too much weight on her back, for strength is only as good as the swiftness of a blow. And of course, a single blade meant you only had to focus on one thing. Sinking the sword into skin. 

Her feet trampled on the soft grass, she was now only a few paces away from the Wolf. With one fluid motion, Red reached back and unsheathed her sword. It gleamed with a blinding light, distracting the beast for a moment. Using her momentum, she thrust the sword’s edge into one of the beast’s legs, putting all her weight and strength behind it. The wolf bellowed. Before it even had time to process the pain fully or react, Red moved back, ready to parry or dodge an attack.

The beast raised its arms into the air, a motion intent on slamming the girl from both sides with its sharp claws. But just before the claws made contact with her body, time seemed to slow. Red steadied her legs, then leaped out of the way, dodging gracefully out of the Werewolf’s clutches. In midair, the world seemed to move at a snail’s pace, she could see the beast in the motion of attacking an assailant who was no longer in front of it. When her feet connected back with the earth, she rushed forward, delivering a flurry of attacks with the opening the Wolf had created for itself. With each blow, the sword gleamed a sapphire glow. After a series of deadly strikes, the rain poured back to its regular pace. 

The Wolf regained its composure due to the new wounds created on its abdomen. Now enraged, it quickened its strikes, slashing violently in any direction in order to get any sort of  hit on her. She dodged, jumped, and rolled. It was a dance in the rain, her footwork being the only thing keeping her alive. With every swing the Wolf made, Red pivoted, backflipped, and dodged, attacking the openings. The beast’s white and grey colored fur matched well with the bloody wounds it was now receiving. 

Ruby and sapphire clashed on the field. Her blade glowed against the black of night. She was doing well, despite the fact he was playing with death. Red hadn’t been hit yet, and it would hopefully stay that way, since one blow could cause her demise. But this had to be done. Whoever the Werewolf ate, it could transform into them during the day. Who knows what chaos this beast would bring about if it got to town. 

They continued their clash in the woods, the storm continued to boom in the background. The Wolf, panting from exhaustion, snapped its teeth, attempting to bite at Red’s hood. When she continued to dodge gracefully, it roared.

“What are you??”

“As I said, it was your mistake to anger someone from a long line of Werewolf hunters.”

Then, she ran. Red, bolted for the trees. The wolf, darted after her, its smile showing off pearly teeth, drool dripping down its chin. The beast scampered through the pine trees, its evergreen shades blending with the shadow. He had lost her, but what was a wolf without its sense of smell. Bringing its face to the dirt, the Werewolf sniffed, looking for the smell of baked goods and steel. It found it, and darted further into the woods. It turned its head, left and right, searching for a glimpse of a bright red cloak. Scampering through the woods, its tail started to lower. Its wounds caused the beast to sulk. 

Then,

Scarlet.

The edges of a red hood billowed in the wind. 

The Wolf eyed it warily. Then, shifting its weight, it pounced!

Not so clever now, are you, girl?

It’s teeth and claws connected with the cloth. It’s jaws ripping the hood to shreds. 

But it tasted no meat. It felt no blood, no warmth.

The sword sunk into its skin. 

The wolf bellowed, an eerie shout that melded with the boom of thunder. Behind him stood Red, her head and shoulders bare, hair soaked from the storm. In her grasp was the blue handle to her silver sword. It had pierced the Wolf, square in the heart. 

She grunted as she pulled the sword out of the Wolf, its body crumbled to the earth. Using the remnants of her hood, Red wiped the blood off her sword. She looked down at the beast, it was barely alive. Then, it breathed, shifting its black eyes towards her. It whispered.

“If you think you’ll walk out of this...alive…you’re in for a surprise…”

Red smirked, placing aboot on the Wolf’s face. “You’re in no shape to be killing anyone, much less me.”

The Wolf gave a crooked smile, “Perhaps not…”

Then, it gave the last of its strength to shove her boot aside. It lifted its head to the sky and howled. Then, the Wolf’s head crashed back into the dirt, dead.

The howl was still echoing through the woods.

Then, there was an answer.

Red looked through the trees, sword at her side. Howls, from at least three directions, filled the night. Each sounded faded and far, but with each echo it sounded closer.

Taking her sword in front of her, she let out a sigh. It seemed her job was not over yet. 

[lockdownuk]

Lockdown Diary Part 4

A personal account during the lockdown in the UK due to the Covid-19 outbreak.

23/03/2020 8:30pm Boris Johnson, UK Prime Minister, gives a live address to the nation to, effectively, put the country on lockdown to stem the spread of the deadly coronavirus strain, Covid-19.

Many of us have been self-isolating for days but this latest development within the UK in reaction to the pandemic feels very serious and very scary. I decided to keep a simple diary and where better but online.

Day91: I can’t post photos to the sister photo diary and it’s fucking me off. Using this as a place holder- last successful pic was 21/06/2020.

Day 92: Still awaiting Tumblr re: day 91′s entry. Meanwhile looking at other blog/diary sites. Very warm today, like it was throughout May. Boris announced a further relaxation in lockdown measures which includes reducing the 2m distancing instruction which paves the way for pubs, restaurants and other places to open on 4th  . It looks like the Ship will open 6th July, George on the 4th. I await to see the measures put in place before deciding whther it’s a goer.

Day93: Typing on day 94 - I received an email from Deryn from RCI HR concerning placement online module attendance, thanking me for my participation. I was somewhat confused. Was this a mistake or was I erroneously not icluded in the initial communications? I fired off an email to HR and WhatsApp’d Jim. He replied that I should take it up with HR.

I am worried by this. Furlough ends this week and I know not what the fuck is going on.

Day 94: Had a few beers last night, ‘cos I was feeling deflated over work. Finished Homecoming S2, which was very good, and cancelled Amazon Prime before the free trial ends tomorrow. Got up @midday but haven’t done jack shit today as my right ankle is playing up - it was twinging last night - apart from press ups. No word back from RCI but there was a notification that the email from Deryn was attempted to be recalled. Had a spat in Co-Op wth two lads who were ignoring the one way system and social-distancing. It makes my blood boil and I had to say something which ended up making my blood boil even more…especially as one of them asked me to ‘crack on’. It’s a pretty cool response actually, since I had them bang to rights but, at the time, I thought I was going to bust a blood vessel. I walked away having told him to not speak to me like that again and that he was a fucking arsehole! Didn’t make me feel any better though. Fog’s chatting later so I’m going to have a few beers right now (just gone 8pm) - I feel like throwing caution to the wind for some reason (probably work more than anything else).

Day 95: Typing on Day 96. I had a lot of beers with Fog the night before last and felt like shit all day yesterday. Still managed to drag myself up to Foggy’s and have socially distanced beers in his garden with Noel and Lord Irish of Michael.

Day 96: Feeling like shit. Third day of no walking ‘cos my ankle is a little sore although I did walk back from Foggy’s last night.

Day 97: Two walks and my usual stair climb today. Felt good to get back to routine. Plus, no booze yesterday, even tho’ it was a Saturday, feel better for it. I heard from Sue Cockings from HR on Friday, btw, still furloughed until further notice.

Day 98: I discovered, yesterday, that today is actually day 99 of lockdown since it actually begun on the Sunday evening that Boris Johnson announced the measures being in place - I mistakenly thought it began on the Monday. Tumblr still haven’t got back to me regarding reviewing why this blog is deemed ‘sensitive’ and I can’t add any more pics. While I am typing, Northampton are beating Exeter 0-2 at Wembley in the L2 play-off final. It’s funny that their fans can’t be there to see it. Football, in general, on its return after lockdown, without fans in attendance, is shit - like watching women’s football - too many empty seats.

Day 100: I have decided to number the days correctly (See prev’ entry). It’s a good time as I had to export , delete and recreate this blog on Tumblr since they have been non-forthcoming in my request for info as to why they deemed it ‘sensitive’. So, this is a restart, altrough seemless to the reader. On top of all that, I am writing this on Day 101! After restarting the blog diary I forgot to add the day’s entry! Bumped into Roger on my second walk, at the top of Basset Ford Place. We chatted for an hour or so. It was really good to see him and talk. We’ve made a promise to interact more...it seems both he and I allow ourselves to get down in the dumps (easy in self-isolation) and, as such, we shall try to reach out as and when. He suggested a walk together every now and then.

Day 101: I heard back from a charitable services company that Barry Haddon (who, coincidentally, I spoke with today) told me about (Auriga)and answered their email questions. BNarry rates them and told me they got him some decent results like he no longer has to pay Council Tax. I tweeted Chris Hawkes on Radio 6 this morning...he was asking for examples of sames names (’cos he had Dave Gorman on) so I told him about The Redlion and the ad the ‘other’ Tim put in the ET. He read it out! I created a photo album of 101 pics I’ve taken in lockdown and put it on FB including the Oundle Chatter group. The comments were great. My right eyesight is worrying, I cannot make out close up detail i.e. reading is blurred. I am going to start doing 10 press ups after each exercise i.e. three times a day. I decided that during my second walk so today I’ve done 20. Lastly, I have new neighbours I do believe. Hmmm.

Day 102: Emailed dad and Rita to have a rant about what dad thought of the Leicester lockdown and to share a link to my 101 photo album. Had a long Messenger chat with Rog.

Day 103: Typing this on day 104. Dad called when I was out ona  walk so we skyped when I got back. He looks really well! Advided me on how to cutt some branches that are hanging low (I asked him in the email yesterday). I then borrowed a saw, secateurs and green bin from Karen. I walked a long way today. My second walk was 9km.I then had loads of beers! The Co-Op car park seems to be the venue for youngsters to hang out. I was gone 2am before they finished partying. I (re)watched Steve Jobs. Wow....just wow. What a film and what a man!

Day 104: It was gone 1:30pm when I got up feeling the worse for wear. A chilli, chorizo and cheese omelette really sorted me out but no beer tonight. How my Saturday frame of mind has changed from just a few years ago. Elliot and Camilla dropped off a jar of japaenos (that Mil had WhatsApp’d me about) and, among other things, we chatted about a photo Tracie Garrett circulated featuring Ell, me her and a few others who met up to have a drink at The Haycock for Ron Gambling. In it was Cath and someone called Ross (who I don’t remember) who have both passed since the pic (July ‘99). I feel strangely saddened by it all. The pic itself is such a reminder of days past - it conjours up shit loads of different feelings.

Day 105: A few beers again last night so another late one (5ish) but up before noon. Finished watching a series called Condor. Pretty good - bit of a messy ending that is the norm with telly nowadays in that it is a little bit of a cliffhanger.

Day 106: The Ship reopened today. I left a nice message on the Virtual Pub group page wishing them the best plus said thanks to Rach. I think it will be the end of the laugh we’ve had on the virtual site now. I expect to go through a bit of a miserabel time with people now venturing out down the pubs.We were once all united in lockdown - that will no longer be the case. Met Rog for a walk - did over 7km oncluding through Barnwell Picnic Park - I don’t remember it being that pretty. defo going to go there again. Got an email from RCI asking for all furlough workers to join a Zoom meeting tomorrow with Paul (MD) and Deryn (HR). Ominous! Went shopping in Asda and Farm Foods. £100 with NO BOOZE!

Day 107: The zoom call today didn’t tell me much other than we are being furloughed still, until further notice. It was susggested that we have a zoom meeting every 2 weeks and that RCI recognise we’ve be left out in the cold somewhat. I appreciate that very much.There were 30 of us on the call plus Paul and Deryn were in the office since they had to make peopel redundant today. Mark was in the office earlier to take receivership of the IT kits from those that left.

Day 108: I am well on the way to doing 1,000,000 steps in theree months (July, August & September) but at what cost. I’ve done well over 11,000 steps each day in July (actually, a lot of days in June as well) apart from one (8k) and I am feeling it. My right leg/ankle is sore! Day 109: I had another mention by Chris Hawkins on Radio 6. He asked for Brian May moments - apparently when he met Brian May he was so starstruck that all he could say was ‘thank you for the music’. I tweeted my story of telling Felicity Kendall to have a good life. Today, both my walks have resulted in me getting fucking soaked. Hanna S2 is on Amazon Prime. Time for yet another free trial (number 4 or 5).

Day 110: I have walked 144,448 steps in 10 days, well on the way to a million steps in three months. The Heist of the Century - an Argentinian film based on true events - watched it last night (well, over two nights, actually). A real life Ocean’s Eleven (but with 6). Brilliant film, brilliat story. I had issues signing up to another Amazon Prime free trial last night so I set up another gmail a/c just now and I think I’m in. I used Danny’s Gmail (which I created over 15 years ago!) and it didn’t like it - I think I must have used it before. I reckon I have probably had loads more free trials than I care to remember. Anyway, off to watch me some Hanna!

Day 111: Very tired as I type. Bed at around 5am, up at 13:30, normal exercises, cleaning kitchen cupbaords and I’m done in. It’s 10:30pm now, just cracked open a beer and about to watch a new Netflix film “The Old Guard”. I would continue with Hanna but Amazon Prime keeps fucking erroring. I will try to go to bed before it gets light (which seems to be my w/e norm nowadays!

Day 112: I have got into the habit of eating dinner far too late. It’s 10:30pm as I type and I am just about to have something eat. I’m not sure why I feel it’s wrong to eat so late but I do, I shall be trying to address it. Late night again last night (gone 4:30am) so today was a lazy day. Only on ewalk but it was 10km and I get up the above 11,000 steps needed for the 1m challenge. My stair climb, at around 9pm, fucking killed.

Day 113: Boring Monday.

Finished watching The Old Guard on Netflix. A Highlander-esque affair with Charlize Theron kicking ass like she did in Atomic Blonde. It was OK. Haven’t manage to lick the late night eating. It’s 10:05pm and tea’s still cooking.

Day 114: I have been looking at planning persmissions on the ENDC site for questions posed on the Oundle Chatter group on FB. There’s going to be two sites with 130 new houses on each and it’s causing concern. And so it should - the planning docs are very revealing. Objections are dismissed in such an off-hand way. It’s really quite insulting. I was awfully down today, during my first walk. I mean, really despondant (too difficult to describe here), which is a lower version of the norm - it’s been a good couple of weeks since anyone’s even asked how I am! A week since that post on my main blog. But, I powered through and am back to the usual depth! I ate at @9:30 pm tonight. Told ya!

Day 115: I am typing this on Day 116 - I ended up hainga  couple of beers last night and forgot to post. I had the most ridiculous toing and froing on FB and Messenger with Rachel (Harris) - it was piss funny. She is the first person in days, actually weeks, who has asked how I am! I watched ep3 of Hanna S2. Absolutely superb. She kills Marissa! Did not see that fucker coming...mind blown! Day 116: I have finally finished the thorough clean of the kitchen. Fucking drama. I am typing at just gone 10pm, about to eat (curry I made yesterday). It’s been a strange day, timings wise, last night’s drinking meant I wasn’t up until just gone noon which obviously didn’t help. I had a call from DSM group - I applied for an IT tech role, they want to see me tomorrow (Friday) for an interview (in Sibson). Interesting! (Although the contact, Helen, hasn’t sent the promised email!)

Day 117: Despite not getting a confirmation email, I attended the interview at DSM. It went OK (I was there for 90 mins). I went booze shopping in Tesco’s afterwards. Spoke to dad today also - he and Rita are well, as usual! I am feeling really knackered and achy today. I do hope it’s not anything to worry about.

Day 118: Up at 1pm. 9.79 km walk. Cooking meatballs, drinking beer, listening to The Blaze about to watch Deepwater Horizon. All good today!

Day 119: Similar to yesterday, up late, bloody long walk, watching Saving Private Ryan (which I started last night).

Day 120: Typing on day 121. Received an email from someone that works at the BBC for Shaun Keaveny’s show - they want me to do small claims court on August 5th. I’m becoming obsessed with getting my steps in - my second walk was extended to round Barnwell Country Park - over 17.5k steps - not the most I’ve done in one day but, for example, most in one day last month (June) was 14.7k. More importantly, I am finding that I can walk further (and for longer) and not have a hypo; not a great deal further, but over an hour.

[iambuckyrogers]

Let Her Go

Summary: After an unfortunate foot in mouth situation you and Bucky are torn apart. How will you recover?

Word Count: 1980

Warnings: almost smut? (Idk how to phrase it, it gets raunchy), mention of anxiety angst, breakup, some swear words,

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Authors note: this was written for @queenofkings121 . Sorry it took a little while, I started really well but hit a block, ugh! But it’s done now yay. I haven’t written anything like this before so I had a lot of fun trying out something new. I hope that you enjoy it! Likes and reblogs always appreciated xx

Prompt: Can you write one where Bucky accidently calls the reader Nat during sexual intercourse and she breaks up with him. He's been staring and talking about, talking to and just hanging out with Nat for awhile and him saying her name during sex was the last straw? Also, she ends up with another guy [non-avenger] and Bucky regrets letting her go?

* * * * *

The door to the bedroom banged open and hit the door stop sending a crashing boom through the corridor.

“Bucky,” you snickered wrapping your legs tighter around the super soldier’s waist.

“What? I needed to get the door open didn’t I?” He sassed back before dropping you unceremoniously onto the bed. Your laughs turned into moans as he began kissing your neck, nipping and sucking at your soft skin. You tilted your head up to give him better access, your hands wound into his hair and pulled gently as he continued his ministrations. He tugged at the hem of your shirt, pulling away from you just long enough to rid you both of your tops before crashing his lips onto yours in a heated kiss. It was all tongues and teeth, desperate and needy. Using all your strength you rolled so that you were now straddling Bucky’s hips. With a hand to his chest, you pushed him onto his back, moving down his body so you were chest to chest. You pressed a kiss to the underside of his jaw, eliciting a delicious moan which caused heat to pool between your legs. You sucked dark marks onto his neck, soothing them with a gentle kiss before continuing your trail down his chest. Your hands roamed up and down his sides, caressing his hard muscles with gentle fingertips before settling you grip on his hips. You kissed down his happy trail, mouthing at his clothed erection which drew another guttural moan from the man beneath you.

“Oh fuck yeah Nat,” he ground out. Instantly you froze, eyes snapping up to look at Bucky but he hadn’t moved, his eyes were shut, head thrown back in the pillows.

“You called me Nat!” You snapped pushing yourself up to sit back on your haunches.

“I - no I didn’t. I said just like that,” he spluttered.

“Cut the shit Bucky I’m not fucking deaf,” you yelled getting off the bed and feeling around on the floor for your shirt.

“Just calm down Doll, it’s not a big de-.” You cut Bucky off with a sharp slap to the face.

“Don’t you dare tell me it’s not a big deal,” you choked out, eyes stinging, fists balling at your sides. You yanked your shirt over your head and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind you

The gym was empty, as you had expected because it was 2am after all. You made a beeline for the boxing bag, not even bothering to pick up gloves on your way through. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, hands clenching at your sides as you thought about all the warning signs that you had ignored. You opened your eyes and imagined the boxing bag was Bucky’s stupid face, throwing punch after punch onto the hard leathery surface. You thought about the last Thursday when you walked in on Nat and Bucky discussing your anxiety behind your back. You remembered how two weeks ago they were play fighting over the remote, ending up on the floor on top of each other. With each new memory, you were hit with a new surge of anger, fuelling your fists to hit the boxing bag harder. Your body was heaving and sweat poured off of your furrowed brow as you went to town, letting out all of your anger and frustration. More and more images came flooding back, Bucky and Nat having their own movie night, Bucky staring at Nat’s ass at the gym, the two of them hanging out more than you ever did with Bucky. Your anger slowly turned to sadness, your arms began to turn to lead, each punch harder than the last until eventually, you collapsed onto the floor. Tears streamed down your cheeks, you hugged your knees into your chest and let the sadness roll over you, suffocating you as sobs wracked your body. That was how you stayed until you felt numb and had no more tears left to cry. You pulled yourself to your feet and headed to your room. Not even bothering to shower you collapsed onto your bed and drifted into a restful sleep.

The sharp ring of your alarm pulled you from your sleep. Drowsily you got dressed and headed into the kitchen for breakfast. You prayed to whatever gods were out there that Bucky wouldn’t be around, but your silent prayers were left unanswered because as you rounded the corner you saw him stood behind the stove. You thought about turning around but why should you flee when he is the one clearly in the wrong. You pulled out a chair behind the breakfast bar and sat yourself down.

“Morning,” Bucky said cheerfully making you want to smack him again. He had turned around from the stove and was plating up his bacon and eggs.

“Mhm,” you grunted back.

“Listen, Y/N, can we talk about this?” Bucky asked.

“What is there to talk about James?” You spat, Bucky visibly shuddered at the use of his real name, it was something that you knew upset him so you used it to your advantage.

“Us, last night, everything really. I was talking to Nat about our situati-,” You cut him off with a crazed laugh, shoving yourself off of the chair causing it to clatter to the floor.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” you yelled, “she’s what got us into this situation,” using air quotes around the word situation.

“Ok let’s just take a deep breath.”

“Actually I will, and I’ll use it to tell you that we’re over, James. Go talk to Nat about that,” you stormed out of the kitchen not waiting to hear Bucky’s response. You needed to get away from him, put as much distance between you and your problems, so you headed down to the garage. Ignoring Friday’s warnings that it wasn’t safe to drive in your mood, you picked a car from Tony’s rather ridiculous selection, got the keys from the glove box and took off down the driveway. You didn’t know where you were going and you didn’t really care, you were just happy to be out of the compound.

It wasn’t long before your stomach began to growl. You got the GPS to take you to the nearest Starbucks because after your ordeal you deserved a good coffee. Thankfully the shop wasn’t busy, the line moved quickly and in no time it was your turn to order.

“Yeah hi I’ll have a -“ you blanked, not being able to say your order, it reminded you of all the times you and Bucky had gone to Starbucks together, how he would get a milk moustache and whipped cream in his beard. Tears sprung back to your eyes as you recalled your many coffee dates.

“Ah, sorry, are you alright?” the barista Joel (according to his name tag) cleared his throat as he looked at you with concern.

“I’m so sorry,” you sniffed wiping your eyes, “I’m ok.” Joel scoffed.

“No, you’re not”

“Well, you’ve got me there,” you laughed.

“I know its definitely not my place since I just met you but I get off in 5 if you want to talk about what’s bothering you?” He offered. You thought about his offer, he seemed genuinely sincere and you didn’t really have anyone else to talk to.

“I don’t really want to talk about it,” you stared and he looked slightly disappointed, “but I’d like to be distracted.”

“Consider it done.” You gave him a weak smile before going to find a spot to sit. Realising that you hadn’t even made an order you were about to go back to the counter when Joel appeared with two drinks in his hands and a beaming smile.

“I don't know what you drink but I hope this is ok.” He set one of the glasses in front of you before taking his place across the table. You took a tentative sip of the drink and were pleasantly surprised with how good it tasted. Much like the drink, Joel’s company was better than expected. He helped distract you from your problems for a little while before you decided to open up to him and he actually gave you some really good advice. You continued to talk for hours, only having to stop because the shop was closing. You exchanged numbers and headed back to the compound in much better spirits than when you left.

That wasn’t the last time you saw Joel. You texted frequently and even called each other occasionally. You went on a real date, followed by plenty more. You were finally happy and ironically you had Bucky to thank for that.

*****

While all of that had been happening, Bucky had been on a mission. After you stormed out of the kitchen he had burst into Fury’s office and demanded to be put on the first mission that came up, he needed time to think away from the compound. Fury had obliged, sending him on a reconnaissance mission somewhere in the middle east. This gave Bucky plenty of time to think. Time to think about all the things that he’d be missing out on without you in his life, to think about how lonely he was sleeping all alone, how you were the greatest thing to ever happen to him and how he threw it all away so easily. He spent the rest of the mission crafting a speech to give to you, to tell you how he fucked up and how badly he needed you in his life, how you gave him meaning and how he needed you back.

As the mission was nearing completion he was growing restless, needing to see you more than ever and rectify his mistakes. He had been gone 2 months by the time he got home. The quinjet engines had barely stopped spinning when Bucky launched himself off of the craft and into the compound, heading straight for your room despite it being 2am. Friday had tried relentlessly to get him to debrief, Fury and Hill were waiting for him but he didn’t care, the only thing he was thinking about was you. He banged on your door frantically, the speech he had crafted running around his head, adrenalin pumping through his veins. Eventually, you opened the door wearing a silk robe, the soft light from a bedside lamp shining behind you creating an angelic aura around your sleepy figure.

“Bucky, what the hell is going on?” you whispered, voice heavy with sleep.

“Y/N, I never should have let you go,” Bucky began.

“Buck-“

“No, please just listen to me,” he pleaded, his voice laced with desperation, “You’re all that I can think about, every waking moment is plagued with reminders of you and even in my dreams I can’t escape. I miss the way you’d play with my hair when we’d be in bed, or when you’d do silly impressions on missions to keep us entertained. I fucked up Y/N, I really did. I let the best thing I ever had go and I’m here to get it back, to get you back.” Bucky pushed your door open and entered your room, closing the distance between the two of you.

“Please,” he whispered, putting his hand on your cheek and leant in closer only for you to pull back.

“Bucky no,” you didn’t look him in the eye, he followed your gaze to your bed where a man was laid sprawled out amongst the covers. Bucky stumbled backwards as if he had been shot

“His name is Joel,” you explained quietly, “I’ve moved on Bucky, I think its time that you do too.” With that you shut the door, leaving Bucky to pick up the pieces of his broken heart like you had to do yourself 2 months earlier.

[blushingvisander]

my heart and soul were never mine to own                                        (what you care to die for?)

summary: Coda 13.19 || After their encounter with the Reaper Jessica, Sam struggles with the ugly truths she brought to light. warnings: Suicide mention, allusions to past rape, allusions to self-harm ship: gen wordcount: 1.1k ao3 link: click ______________

I’m around. Always.

The words echoed inside his head long after they had left Idaho in the dust.

Dean had turned off the stereo at some point with a muttered “not in the mood” and Sam was grateful for the quiet. He doubted he would’ve been able to hear the music over his own rapid heartbeat anyway.

The car caged him in like it rarely did anymore and he had spent the first two hours after their surprise meeting glancing behind himself to check if she was here. It was pointless, of course, Reapers only made themselves known when they felt like it.

Still, the uneasiness never quite vanished.

Even Dean seemed to pick up on his anxiety after a time and suggested he get some rest - so that’s what he did, his temple against the windowpane. The pulsing ache in his side from remaining in one position for too long was unpleasant, but he dealt with worse on a regular basis.

Sam ignored it, ignored the muffled static in his ears, too and continued to stare into blurred darkness. The problem was that the interstate looked bright and vivid in the mellow light of approaching dawn and his thoughts just wouldn’t leave him alone.

When Lucifer was inside his head, he knew he was going crazy. But back there, a subtle press to his hand - just to be sure, just out of habit - had confirmed that all of it was real, no hallucinations. Dean saw her too, even more than that, he knew her by name and when she told them what Death had assigned her to do, he took it in stride.

Sam didn’t understand. She said she saw everything.

The implications hiding in her easy phrasing weren’t lost on him at all.

His room at the bunker had been a sanctuary, a quiet space to withdraw to when things got overwhelming. He felt safe inside its walls, an attribute he had never used for any kind of place before. Not even the Impala would be quite the same without Dean in it.

He supposed that his safety had always relied on a who, never on a where. And this, this was why. Because good things just weren’t meant to last and wasn’t that the story of his life? He’d bitterly miss the feeling though, of home and peace and something to look forward to after a particularly exhausting hunt.

She’d taken this from him, left of it now only the ugly cracks in the walls, moments he liked to push to the very back of his mind but suddenly found he couldn’t anymore when he thought of invisible eyes watching his every move.

She had no right, no right -

x

Him, 2am, digging his nails into the pliant meat of his cheeks to hold himself together, never quite deep enough to leave permanent marks. He’s a silent cryer. It wasn’t always that way.

x

Samuel, standing in front of the bathroom mirror on bare feet and watching his reflection shiver against cold tiles. It hung too low for a man his size, cut off at his eyebrows once he rose to his full height (he rarely did these days). The thing that stares back at him blinks. “You don’t belong here,” it whispers saccharine-sweet. “You don’t belong anywhere.”

x

Sam, packing for a hunt. His gaze lingering on the gun in his hand while he wonders if maybe this time, it’s his own head he should be putting that bullet into. He’s terrified, but his hand doesn’t tremble. He feels like it should.

(It didn’t matter. In the end, his brother would always be around to bring him back.)

x

- to witness him falling apart over nothing, to tear at the seams of what was his and his alone. None of it was her business (or Dean’s, or anyone’s) and there was a time when the anger about that burnt red hot inside his lungs and he wanted nothing more than something to lash out at, to scrub at his soiled skin until he felt numb from it  -

But Sam was so, so tired.

If everyone seemed entitled to the most vulnerable of him, then maybe it was time to accept his role in all of this.

He was the liability after all. The unstable one, the tainted one, holding on to his faith in people like the lifeline that kept his head above water. And it led him down the same road every time, on his way to Portland, Oregon to fix yet another one of his mistakes.

He had wanted to believe in Rowena because he saw himself in her eyes. How many more hits like this one could he take?

The stranger intruding on him certainly was another. She, her -

Jessica. The Reaper, Jessica. Who else? It suited her, he thought. Fitting for a presence in the empty space around him.

If she was entirely true to her words, if she had really seen everything, then she was choosing not to use his secrets against him in front of his brother. Instead a flippantly sexual comment about his hair that made him cringe involuntarily, laced with a threat Dean wouldn’t, couldn’t pick up on. Because Lucifer liked his hair, too. He made sure to tell him when his body was alight with His grace, a touch so cold that it charred his bones in its wake, chipping away at the parts of Sam as He became anew. He made sure to tell him too many times to keep track of after that. Inside him, just in different ways.

And rationally, it wasn’t possible for her to know any of that, but the sharp, hungry look in her eyes intertwined with words that cut into his flesh told him a different story entirely.

What did they really know about Reapers?

I’m especially fond of your impressive, extensive array of hair products.

Sam swallowed down the bile rising in his throat. Dean would kill him if he vomited in his car.

Out of nowhere, the door slammed shut beside him and Sam startled. He had been so lost in his thoughts that he hadn’t even noticed they had stopped for gas and Dean only just now settled back into his seat.

He glanced at his brother on the driver’s side as he steered them back onto the road. His posture was rigid, tense and his eyes flickered from where Dean clenched the wheel in between his fingers to the way he rolled his shoulders in unsteady intervals, a clear tell of pressure he was attempting to relieve.

Sam considered saying something, tasted the words carefully, felt the weight of them on his tongue. He didn’t like how the silence that had swept them up before now crackled with the expectation to be broken.

Dean cursed under his breath as a passing car cut abruptly in front of them. The moment fled by without his notice. Sam snapped his mouth shut.

This wasn’t something he knew how to explain.

And the thought of someone listening from the backseat made his stomach churn unpleasantly. ______________

This is set after this (x) scene that just won’t stop haunting me ever since I saw the episode promo. Shoutout to @samssilkyhair for inspiring a new headcanon I neither wanted nor needed by pointing out a parallel I hadn’t picked up on. I’m sure you’ll be able to figure out which part I’m referring to if you end up reading it (no pressure ofc!) title from: Devil like me - Rainbow Kitten Surprise (x) tagging: @wendigosammy (hmu if anyone wants to be tagged in the future*) *awfully bold of me to assume I’m ever writing again

[cockslutpadalecki]

New Rules

Summary: Eleanor and Negan are strictly “Friends with Benefits” but Eleanor soon finds herself falling in love and does her hardest to keep Negan at a distance to save herself from getting her heart broken but he can’t keep away making her mission almost impossible.

Characters: Negan x Eleanor (OC)

Words: 6343.

Warnings: strong language, angst, sexual references, female ejaculation and some fluff.

A/N: Based on ‘New Rules’ by Dua Lipa. Plus, I’m just hella thirsty for Negan and this seemed like a perfect way to ease myself into writing about him. Also apologies for the length... I got a bit carried away with this idea. Not beta’ed so all errors, spelling mistakes and general bullshit are entirely mine. While likes are gold, feedback is golden. Masterlists/taglists can be found in my bio.

My phone vibrates against the wood of my dresser knocking me from my half-arsed slumber. I roll over, reaching for it and turn it on its side, the glare from the screen completely removing every ounce of sleep from my eyes. A familiar name flashes across it and the pit in my stomach flutters. Negan. I can never tell if it’s from excitement or dread due to the fact I know exactly why he’s calling. I swipe right to answer the call and bring it to my ear.

“Hello.” I sound almost bored.

“Hey darlin'.” His voice purrs like a kitten and I know the tone in it instantly; one too many whisky’s as usual. He doesn’t give me chance to reply. “What’re you doing?”

I glance at my alarm clock, the red 02:03 taunting me. “It’s 2am, what do you think I’m doing?”

“Thinking of me?” He sniggers. I roll my eyes; I know what ‘thinking’ is code for.

“Ne-“

He cuts me off. “Come over.” It’s an order not a question.

“It’s the middle of the night.”

“Hasn’t stopped you before.”

“That was before I knew better. Look you’ve had a few, go to bed. You need sleep ok?"

“I need your sweet little pussy.” The word makes my actual pussy throb. I need his warm, hard cock too but I'm not going to tell him that. He didn’t need any more fuel for his already raging fire.

“You need sleep.” I repeat ignoring his comment.

“Eleanor-“ The way he says my name makes my heart and chest ache. My mind is screaming at me to hang up, roll over and go to sleep but I know that’ll never happen. Not now I know he’s at home aching for me when I’m aching just as much in return. But my body thinks differently. I want him to envelope me; fuck me till I can’t walk. “I promise I'll make you come real hard.” The begging in his voice is heavy now.

I sigh deeply, quickly scanning my brain for an excuse that would suffice. Nothing would come. However, like he promised, I could be coming within an hour if I gave in to his demands.

“I’ll see you in twenty minutes.”

I've always had a thing for older men and Negan was no exception. In his early 50s, you wouldn't imagine us together but he has such a rugged charm and audacious attitude that exudes from every pore; it makes him so unbelievably attractive. The first time he smiled at me, flashing his dimples through his peppered beard I was completely blindsided.  With a twenty year age gap there were moments when it showed but with the relationship we have, it's never an issue.

I say relationship, I mean complicated. 'Fuck buddies' was the common phrase for what we are. Well. that's what he thought. I'm unreservedly and entirely infatuated by him and he knows it. He uses my helplessness to get what he wants and after he gets it, I’m sent on my way until he calls again, expecting me to cave in instantly and I usually do. The electricity, the heat between us is unimaginable. It pulls me in like a magnet and I can't detach myself from it.

We met in the conventional way; out with friends and ended up sharing a cab home before fucking for hours on his sofa. Neither of us really thought it would lead anywhere and it didn’t. We stayed friends and would occasionally meet up for meaningless sex. It wasn’t until a couple of months later when we met up on separate nights out and he spent it fawning over somebody else that I realised I felt more for him than I thought. Jealousy bubbled up inside me watching him flirt with her as a joke was made about me being his daughter and I left in a hurry. He called me later after his attempts to bed her had failed and came crawling to me for a release. I knew in that moment then that I was nothing more to him than a hole he could score in when he couldn’t get anything better. Used was the only word to describe how I felt as he pounded away against me that night, the first time I had ever failed to come for him.

That had been a year ago and I was yet to learn my lesson. He still calls in the middle of the night and I still always answer. 1. Don’t pick up the phone, you know he’s only calling cause he’s drunk and alone.

-

“You need to tell this old dude to back the fuck off.” My best friend Alicia grumbles at me while stuffing her face with my homemade bologna.

“It’s more complex than that.” I fork the food on my plate; I don’t feel hungry at all. It’s been two weeks since I crawled to Negan's at two in the morning and I'm still hating myself for it. Sure, it’s the best sex I’ve ever had but that didn’t mean I couldn’t despise myself for falling for the person who was giving it to me.

“Els, you've gotta tell him how you feel."

"I can't. He'll just laugh in my face. I'm just an immature little kid."

"Not that little. I mean, you are pushing thirty." I raise an eyebrow at her and she laughs.

"Bitch." I mumble.

She laughs again. "I'm serious though, you can't spend your life pining for someone who doesn't care for you in the same way you do for them." I sigh heavily; she is right. She is always right. I know it too but I'm so enthralled by him and the way he makes me feel when we're together that I feel powerless to stop it.

“Maybe I'll just do the man thing and start dodging his calls till he gets the message." 

“That’s the spirit.” She lifts the corners of her lips into a smile. We both giggle. The hunger pangs in my stomach overwhelming me I give in, bringing my fork to my mouth with a smile to match hers.

-

An hour later I wave to Alicia as she drives off and I step back inside, closing the door behind me. I slump against it suddenly feeling lonely, wishing I’d got her to stay the night. I just need a long hot bath, another glass of wine and a good night’s sleep. I'm about to push myself away from the door when three quick knocks throw me out of my daze. I turn, grab the door handle and bring it towards me. The face I’ve been trying to shift from my thoughts for days stares back at me.

"Negan? What are you doing here?” The shock is evident in my voice. He never shows up at my house. It's a power thing; he calls, I go running. He’s in control then. If he comes to me, it’s a moment of weakness and he hates it.

“Can’t I come to see my favourite person in the world?” He smiles and I feel my clit throb. He steps towards me, kissing me gently on the cheek. Another twinge pulses through my groin.

“You sure you’re at the right house?” He laughs, stepping inside. Somehow I feel nervous.

“What are you really doing here?” I ask again, shutting the door behind him. He turns on his heel to face me, his eyes dark with lust. Uh-oh. He leans forward, his lips inches from my ear.

“Well, you sure as shit can’t fuck your own brains out.”

My knees almost give way at the filth tumbling from his lips and the combination of his breath on my neck. I strain to speak but his mouth is already on mine and his hands at the buttons on my shirt, hurrying to undo them. 

Eleanor, kick him out! my brain screams. Don’t do this. Don't let him win. Stop him-

My thoughts are drowned out by the adrenaline pumping hard in my ears as I kiss desperately back, unable to push him away. I snake my hands round his neck as he grabs hold of the backs of my thighs, lifting me up and I wrap my legs around his waist. He groans into my mouth as my groin pushes against his already hard erection. 

Still holding me round his waist, he begins to stride towards the lounge; practically running to get me to the nearest thing he can lay me down on. His tongue slips inside my mouth and I whimper into him, desperate to feel it flicking over my swollen clit. I start to peel his leather jacket off as we reach the sofa and with one hand alternating with the other to keep me upright, he lets it fall to the floor with a dull thud. He sits down and I straddle him, grinding against his crotch slowly. It reminds me of the first night we ever spent together and this time wouldn’t be any different.

2. Don’t let him in, you have to kick him out again.

-

Almost three months pass without a word from Negan and I'm miserable. I actually crave a phone call at 2am. I'm itching for him to show up at my door. I just want to come like a freight train screaming his name but all is silent. Every night I go to bed hopeful that maybe tonight would be the one but I find myself crying to sleep instead. I keep trying to talk myself out of pining for him, even going as far as hooking up with someone else but it failed to do anything. Didn't even come close. I resign myself to the fact that while Negan is in my life, I'm destined to be alone. 

I reach my car after leaving work, ready to drive home and finish an entire bottle of wine to myself. Key in the lock, I'm turning it as a hand slams against the window startling me. I look up about to give this arsehole a piece of my mind. Negan looks horrendous despite being dressed head to toe in a black suit and I feel a shiver run down my spine. His eyes are red and bloodshot, beard unkempt and he stinks of alcohol. 

"Negan? What the-are you alright?" I can't hide the fact I'm shaken. He stumbles towards me, the whisky cloud above his head engulfing me. 

"Just," he pauses to hiccup, "great." He smiles his usual grin and my heart skips. 

"Well you don't look it." 

"You mean you don't want this?" He slides a hand down his torso and grabs his crotch with a smirk. I bit down on the inside of my lip subtly before my conscience kicks in. 

"Definitely not like this." I start to open my door, creating a barrier between us. The more distance the better but I find the next words slipping past my lips before my brain has a chance to register them. "Come on, let me take you home, you're in no state to be wondering around on your own." 

What was that about more distance the better? 

"I'm fine." He snaps defensively. 

"Negan, get in the fucking car." 

"Fuck off." His face stiffens as he stumbles backwards to walk away but I manage to grab him. The whisky smell is overwhelming but through the alcohol, I can just make out his own. A sweet mix of leather and cologne. It warms me in a way I wish it hadn't. 

I begin struggling to walk him to the passenger side but he gives in and helps. I open the door and he slumps down into the seat with a groan. Part of me is anxious; I don't want him to throw up in the footwell. I slam the door behind him and get into the car myself. Switching the engine on, I glance over at him and he's practically unconscious. Good; some peace and quiet, I think to myself as we drive out of the car park.

-

He falls onto the sofa with a loud thud. My arm aches from carrying him from the car and I give it a rub as I walk to the kitchen and fetch him a glass of water. The car journey was peaceful but I was so aware of him next to me the entire time I could barely think straight. What was I doing? I was dangling myself in front of a black widow ready to pounce at any moment. I walk back into the lounge and nudge him with the back of my hand. 

"Hey, wake up." I say soothingly even though I just want to shout at him. Be angry at him. He stirs a little but not enough. "You need to drink some water." Nothing. I think for a minute. "Oh Negan, my pussy's so wet for you." I purr, bending down in front of him. "I'm aching for your big hard cock." Well, it wasn't exactly a lie.

His eyes stay closed but the sides of his lips pull up into a smirk. "I knew it. I could practically taste it from here." He grumbles, shifting his weight onto his left elbow and his eyes spring open. His brown stare keeps me kneeling at his feet and I hand him the glass.

"Drink." He takes it from me and downs half the glass in one go, his eyes on me the whole time. I feel uneasy. Like I need to go and take a long cold shower. "So are you gonna tell me why you're blind drunk at five in the afternoon and why you scared the shit out of me?" 

He fidgets in his seat clasping the glass tight. "Nope." He takes another swig pulling a face as the glass empties.

"No?"

"I don't wanna talk about it." His face is expressionless. For once, I can't read him. 

"Gotcha." I push up on my feet, standing upright and start to step away.

"No, stop." He grabs my hand and I look down at him. His face isn't expressionless any more; it's full of pain. "Stay." The tone in his voice is pleading. 

"Not till you talk to me." He lets go.

"We are talking." 

"Negan-"

"Okay okay." He puts the now empty glass onto the coffee table and motions for me to sit down. I comply with immense difficulty. The last time I sat on this couch, I was sprawled across it while he had his face buried deep in my cunt. I make myself comfortable as he turns to face me. I can see he's toying with his words as he keeps opening his mouth but nothing comes out. 

"The reason for this," he motions down to his outfit, "I was at a funeral." I say nothing. What do I say? He takes a deep breath, looking down at his hands. "My best friend's funeral." I'm stunned; I don't know how to form a sentence to comfort him.

"I had to bury him alongside his wife in front of his entire family and kids." The tone in his voice changes and I can see his eyes are glassy. Shit. "He was my best friend, for fuck sake." He looks to the ceiling trying to compose himself. “I have no-one." 

I breath out heavily and gingerly reach for one of his hands, entwining my fingers around his. "You have me." I speak so softly I almost don't hear myself. He glances across to me, a mixed look of confusion and relief written all over it. 

I take a second to look away suddenly regretting my words as I cast my eyes back to him. It all happens quickly; his lips are on me, tongue searching for mine and his hands on my hips roaming for the button on the back of my skirt. I react in a similar way; my fingers peel off his suit jacket before urgently reaching for his zipper. 

I can't help myself. Three months I've been craving this. I'm like a ravenous animal who hasn't eaten in weeks. He detaches from the kiss and stands us both up. He doesn't need to say a word, I know where we're going. I follow him out of the room and we reach the stairs as he leans into kiss me again. I'm breathless; completely under his spell. My back collides with the wall, his hands around my waist finally undoing my skirt and lets it fall to the floor. I'm truly sopping now; I can feel the wetness seeping through my knickers onto my thighs. 

Desperate for him to feel just how ready I was, I grab one of his hands and let it fall to my groin, guiding him against my soaked core. I can feel his smirk covering my lips, his left hand joining the right at my hips. He pulls down my knickers devilishly slow and I step out of them, exposing myself completely to him. I'm aching for his touch as he slips a finger between my folds and we both gasp against one another simultaneously. My hands tug sharply on his tie, urging him to do more than tease me. He yelps, pulling away from me and a smirk spreads across his lips.

"Oh you like this do ya?" His voice is literally dripping with lust as he slips the same finger against my clit and my eyes roll into the back of my head. Somehow I've forgotten how to speak. "And this?" His finger enters me and I almost lose it there and then. 

I drop my hands to his waist and palm his dick through his trousers, utterly overtaken by my own need to have him fuck me into the middle of next week. He slides his finger out of me and I whimper as I watch him suck down on it hard. I manage to get inside his trousers, taking his impressive length in both hands. He pushes himself away but pulls me with him as he edges me down onto the stairs, the soft carpet brushing against my bare backside. He leans in, capturing my mouth with his once more while his hands wrap around his own waist, pulling his trousers down. 

The heat of his erection pressing against my opening has me biting down onto his lip gently. He moans into my mouth as he pushes himself inside me slowly and I feel myself stretch around him. We both groan in unison as he begins to thrust and thrust hard. I can already feel my arse stinging against the friction of the carpet. I reach up, dragging my hands through his hair as his head droops onto my shoulder and softly kisses and bites along my collarbone. I whimper in delight, the angle in which he's positioned means that with every thrust he nudges my g-spot. I'm not going to last long; three long months without this level of stimulation, I'm going to come quick and unforgivably hard. 

He slides in and out of me with ease, my juices making his cock slick with them. I wrap my legs around his back, crossing my ankles at his hips so I can help to control the thrusts. Out and back in again with such a force I feel it nudge against my cervix. I can’t take much more. The heat inside my groin intensifies to a critical level.

“Negan... fuck I... I’m gonna... come.” I mutter breathlessly against his neck, desperate for my orgasm. I sense him smile into my shoulder, his forehead damp against my own clammy skin. 

Three more hard, sharp thrusts come in quick succession; each more powerful and damaging than the last. I strain against him, struggling to hold on as he drives himself inside me at a staggeringly quick pace. I have to come. I go silent as my orgasm rips through me at an alarming rate making my entire body shiver beneath him. He doesn’t let up; continuously drilling his cock deep inside me making my orgasm spill over into another. My trembling slows as he shifts his weight so he has a hand free to slide down towards my drenched cunt. His fingers brush over my clit, softly stroking my bead as he continues to fuck me.

The sensation is phenomenal; a feeling like no other before it and I come around him again but as he pulls out to thrust back in, a tingling builds up behind my clit and I suddenly feel the urge to pee. I can’t stop myself and the tingling overwhelms me as I squirt everywhere flooding the carpet underneath us screaming at the top of my lungs. He stops briefly, looking down at my soaked thighs; he doesn’t seem fazed and begins to pick up where he left off. I can see the smile playing across his lips like a horny little schoolboy. 

“What are... you so... smug about?” I ask between thrusts.

“Knew I’d... make you... come that... hard one day.” I smile back as he steadies his rhythm and I know he’s close. I beg into his ear to come inside me and as I close my teeth around his earlobe he does just that. Holding each other tightly, he empties himself inside me trembling in my arms. It’s the most intimate moment we’ve ever shared. As his orgasm slows to a halt, another smile dances over his lips as he leans down and kisses me with an alien tenderness.

-

I wake up in a daze; the duvet covers all tangled round my feet, I jolt upright and try to figure out where I am. The dresser is familiar but it’s not mine and neither is the wardrobe on the other side of the room. Oh fuck. I know exactly where I am. I spin my head slowly to the right of me and my fears are confirmed. Negan is sleeping soundly on his back with one arm above his head. 3. Don't be his friend, you know you're gonna wake up in his bed in the morning.

-

I can't sleep. I toss and turn for hours, my eyes continuously glancing over at my alarm clock. 00:51. 02:15. 03:43. I give up trying as the minutes tick over from forty three to forty four. I may as well get up and do something productive. I roll over attempting once more as I hear the familiar buzz of my phone vibrating.

Here we go again. 

I turn back and grab it quickly. He doesn't give me a chance to say hello.

"Heey sweetheart, come oveer." He slurs his words.

"Negan," I sigh heavily, "it's 4am. I can't do this." The other end of the line is silent for what feels like forever. Did I blow it already?

"Do what?" He finally responds, this time no longer slurring. Maybe my words have sobered him up. 

"You know exactly what." More silence follows.

"Why?" The tone in his voice has changed. He's pissed and I've a feeling I'm about to be on the receiving end of it. "You on the rag or some shit?" 

"Wow you're so fucking mature." I hiss through my teeth sarcastically. "Grow up." I want to hang up but part of me holds out.

"Darlin', you're just a fucking kid, don't tell me to grow up."

"I'm sorry, who's the one who accused me of being on my period because I don't want to come to your house at four in the fucking morning to have sex with you?"

"Well, why else wouldn't you want to?"  

"Because I'm not your fucking plaything Negan. Not any more. I'm sick of being treated like I'm nothing to you." I end the call. 

I have to hang up; I can't bear to hear his response. I can't handle what bullshit reasoning he might throw at me. Like he can't be in a relationship right now; falling in love is no good for him; the usual garbage I've overheard him say in the past. I take a deep breath and roll over, throwing my phone across the bed. It vibrates again. And again. And again. I count at least ten times more before I fall asleep from pure exhaustion.

1. Don't pick up the phone, you know he's only calling cause he's drunk and alone.

-

The knocking gets more persistent as I reach the door. My heart races with the possibility that it could be Negan on the other side of it but my mind tells me I blew that expectation weeks ago. It's been a month since I hung up on him and I haven't heard a peep since. My entire body aches from the loss but I know it's for my own good. I'm in too deep and need to get myself to the surface without him pulling me back under. Falling in love with someone who doesn't feel the same in return can leave an awful bitter taste in your mouth. Like getting a pill lodged in your throat and you feel it with every swallow. 

I grab the door handle and pull it towards me. My heart sinks and my stomach rolls. Negan looks insatiable in his leather jacket, low slung jeans and a white t-shirt, his hair slicked back immaculately. He's completely reminiscent of the first time we met. I feel my groin pulsate from the sideways glance he gives me.

"Evenin' sweetheart." The sides of his lips curl up into a playful smirk showing off his dimples.

I grasp hold of the door to support myself; if I don't, I'll be on my knees sucking him dry in minutes. I have to be strong. "What are you doing here?"

"Thought I'd just come by so you could apologise for the other night." He smirks. The prick. The fucking smug prick. 

"Me? Apologise to you?" I'm flabbergasted.

"You hung up on me. I don't like it when you hang up on me." He steps forward into the doorway and I find myself rooted to the spot. His face is inches from mine and his cologne envelops me making me dizzy. The last time we were this close he was nine inches deep inside me and the memory makes me ache all over. 

"You deserved it for being an arsehole." I mutter, my eyes watching his lips as he wets them with his tongue and another smile grows across them. 

He chuckles to himself.  “Darlin’ you ain’t seen me be an arsehole. And you don’t want to, trust me.” He whispers into my ear as his hand slides over my bare arm making my hairs stand on end. I’m so frustrated it makes me weak, light headed. “I could make your life a living hell.” He moves back, our eyes locking. The tension between us is unbearable and I almost can’t take it.

“I’m already there.” I’m not going to break his stare. He came here to make me back down, retrace my steps and grovel at his feet. I meant it; I wasn’t going to be his plaything any longer. My heart can’t bear it. I either have him entirely or I don’t have him at all. It’s as simple as that.

He looks shocked, raising an eyebrow. “Well shit, that hurt.” Good. If he feels even an inch of what I’m hurting then I’m happy. 

“I meant what I said. I’m not doing whatever this shit is any more.” I gesture between our bodies. He grabs my wrist tightly, his fingertips burning into my skin. 

“I say when it’s over and it’s not over. I’m not letting go of you that easy.” 

“Why? Afraid you won’t find anyone as stupid as me to fuck you whenever you want it, old man?” His jaw tightens and I feel afraid. I’ve never pushed him this far before. 

"What the hell did you just say to me?" His grip hardens further, pinching me. It stings but I hold out. I bite the inside of my cheek to stop from welling up. This is the perfect opportunity to tell him how I feel but I want to wimp out. If I utter even a single word I know I'll break and I never want Negan to see me like this. Vulnerable and weak;  just a little girl. 

My only solution is to push him away and somehow I find my voice. "You heard me. Or do I need to get you a hearing aid?" 

"You wanna say goodbye to this old man," he points at himself, "and the best sex you've ever had?"

"Please, just get out. I can't do this right now." I repeat, pleading. If he stays any longer I'm going to give in again and my soul can't take any more of this friends with benefits rubbish. He lets go of my wrist and I rush to rub the numbing skin with my fingertips. 

"You sure this is what you want?" He's testing me - he knows I'm desperate for him; I can feel it coating my thighs. I nod silently averting his gaze. I need him to leave. "Fine. Have it your way." He leans in, his beard tickling my face. "But don't come crawling to me when you can't find anyone who can make you come like I can Els." 

His lips touch the apple of my cheek and I close my eyes, praying for the tears in them to dry up quickly. In a moment of overwhelming weakness, I shift my head towards him and our mouths meet, pushing my lips against his hungrily. He matches my ferocity with a passion so blindingly knee-trembling, it almost knocks me off my feet. His hands are in my hair pulling me hard against his tight body. It's chaotic, fierce and unbidden. Lust overtakes us both like a pack of lions feasting on a meal. My mind blacks out for a minute, forgetting what I'm trying to achieve before it reboots and reminds me horrifically: if you're under him, you ain't getting over him. 

"No." With my hands between us, I place my palms against his chest and push him away. The kiss leaves me breathless and so utterly unaware of my surroundings, I seize hold of the door to steady myself. Negan looks me up and down, craving to smile. I can see it in his dimples. He treads backward onto the doorstep, readjusting his belt which in my pathetic desperation I'd tried to undo. 

"See you around Els." I watch him lick his lips as he steps away and into the night. I shut the door hurriedly and slump against it finally letting the tears come; painful, gut wrenching sobs taking hold of my body as I wonder if I've made the worst mistake of my life.

2. Don't let him in, you have to kick him out again.

-

I’m certain that one of the hardest things I have ever had to do is try to push Negan from my mind. My thoughts wander daily to what he might be doing or where he might be going - if he’s thinking of me too. I feel so empty and hollow; a vastness so deep I don’t know how to outrun it. Work and Alicia help to distract me as time goes on but I consistently drift back into the abyss. 

I straighten my dress in the mirror, the low lighting dancing over my pale skin. I take a deep breath nervously not wanting to head back out to the bar. I really don’t want to be here but Alicia dragged me out for some wine and a giggle. I argued that we could have done that at home but she wasn’t having any of it. So here I am - dressed up to the nines in a bar I certainly don’t want to be in and the familiarity of the toilets stirs emotions in me I don’t want to be experiencing. 

I remember the night vividly as I clutch at the basin, Negan waiting for me outside to take me home and do unspeakable things to me. The memory makes my head spin and I muster the courage to leave the strange sanctuary of the room to tell Alicia I’m leaving. I step out into the main bar and sidle up next to Alicia who’s downing a shot. So much for the wine.

“I can’t stay here.” I say into her ear - I remember everything else so clearly except the music being this loud. She slams the glass onto the bar and motions the bartender over for another times two. 

“What? No! We’ve only been here ten minutes.” She states, furrowing her brow.

“It’s too much. Too familiar.” I cross my arms over my chest, suddenly feeling a chill. I glance around the room at everyone else and envy them for having a good time. I wish I can switch off too but it’s an impossible task. 

“Okay okay,” She downs her next shot quickly, “we’ll go.” She coughs, standing up and smooths out her skirt. “But we’re going to another bar ok?” I nod my head; anywhere but here. I turn on my heel, aching to get out. So full of desperation to leave, I don’t concentrate on where I’m going and walk straight into the back of somebody.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry.” I plead - the last thing I need is for some stranger to shout at me for being so careless. The stranger turns to face me and I feel my stomach drop as our eyes meet: a wave of nausea engulfing me.

“Eleanor?” Negan utters, the shock on his face extremely obvious. He clearly didn’t expect to see me. The way he says my name hasn’t changed at all. All thick and gooey; dripping with lust. 

“Negan h-hi.” I stutter, heat spreading across my cheeks in embarrassment and shame. I knew coming here was a bad idea. 

“Surprised to see you here.” I can tell he’s feigning the small talk; this is clearly awkward for the both of us. 

“I, um, yes, fine.” I make no sense and can’t think straight. He emanates sex from every orifice and the whole room knows it. I glance past him and notice an older woman stood next to him clutching at a wine glass eyeballing me. I clock his arm draped round her shoulder as he notices me looking and it subtly falls behind her out of my line of sight. The tide of nausea lining my stomach is now thick in my throat. 

“How’s your brother doing?” He enquires casually.  On the odd occasion we weren’t having sex I had confided in him about things Alicia didn’t even know; secrets, my deepest fears and anxieties. It wasn’t easy telling him about my brother’s mental health; that I feared daily for his life but Negan held me while I sobbed in his arms and told me everything was going to be ok. So the way he can ask me that so blasé, so callously disinterested; it pisses me off.

“Excuse me.” I don’t give him a second glance or notice if Alicia is following me as I rush to the exit of the bar, the cold crisp air hitting me hard as the door swings open. I’m almost to the pavement as a hand wraps around mine, I spin round and I’m met with Negan’s familiar steely gaze. 

“Where you going doll?” He’s confused. His smell of leather, sweet aftershave and the faint whiff of whisky swallows me whole. 

“I need to go home. This was a mistake.”

“Hell, I say it’s fate. I’ve missed that fine little pussy of yours.” 

“Shouldn’t you be saying that to your lady friend in there?” I try to snatch my hand free but his grip is too tight. 

“Her?” He lets out a short sharp “ha.” “She’s nothing.” 

“Like I was nothing? Just some fine little pussy?” I catch a nerve; I can see it in his eyes and the muscles twitch in his jaw. He lets go of my hand, my fingers tingling from the blood rushing back to them.

He sniggers, itching at his beard. He always did that when he’s uncomfortable. “You could never be nothing.”

“But somehow I'm easily replaced?” 

“Jealous are we?” He steps closer still and another wave of his scent washes over me. 

It’s my turn to snigger. “Don’t flatter yourself.” 

“I don’t need to sweetheart, I can see it in your eyes. And you sure as shit can't stand it.” He’s inches from me and I feel myself begin to ache. Trying to convince myself he's bluffing, I look away; I'm not about to come undone in front of him but the rage inside me spills over.

"Fuck you Negan." I spit. "You can fuck and fuck over whoever you want. I mean, you've been doing an amazing job of that for the past two years." I hear him take a deep breath. 

"We both know that she's only here because you made it clear that I can't have you." I can tell that being this honest pains him.

"And you still can't." I cross my arms over my chest. I need comfort to protect me. 

He licks his lips uncomfortably. "I know what you want Eleanor but I can't give you the love you deserve."

"Can't or won't? Too much to sacrifice? Don't want to scupper that precious bachelor reputation?" I'm furious and the pulsating devastation inside my chest is borderline unbearable. How I'm still standing is a mystery. Hearing him admit it crushes every last shred of hope inside me. He glances down as if looking at me suddenly hurts but he soon meets my gaze. Straight faced, his eyes bare into me with a warmth I've never seen before holding me into place. 

"I don't know how." 3. Don't be his friend, you know you're gonna wake up in his bed in the morning.

“Heavy” - Part II 

[rantingstories]

I woke up at 5am, drove to a local hill and read my book. How did it affect my day?    

 I use to wake up at 7am, eat straight away, sleep for half an hour and be late for work

 Hellewwww. So, I would like to discuss a concept probably foreign to a lot of us, and that is productivity in the mornings. I think the general consensus for mornings is; wake up, turn the alarm off, lay there being miserable about our inevitable rise from the bed, literally fall back asleep like you don’t even need wages because you got the rent fairy to help you out, turn the alarm off, after laughing at the wage fairy thing become miserable again, tiny ‘lil pep talk, and rise. Usually, the mornings are for being sluggish, letting your body adjust and rest at the same time. You would eat your food and watch some TV or look on your phone, until it’s time to get ready for work or school. I feel this is the default morning of most people. My mornings have always been a little lazier and more shameful then that!

Typically, I would give myself an hour and 9 minutes. I’d have to leave at 8:15 so I would get up at 7:06 because sleep minutes are more like hours when you feel you’re losing them and 6 more minutes in bed felt like a lot to me. Then I would sluggishly walk to the kitchen and feed my two cats who would be bountiful balls of energy, making me a mere shell of a person in their presence. I would then make any cereal I can find and sit on the couch watching TV or looking through my phone as I ate. I wouldn’t really have time for a cooked breakfast or tea because here comes the important bit; I lay sleep, on the couch, for half an hour, as my partner lays in bed. Why? Glad you asked J I have no clueL. For me, being awake whilst in bed is fantastic because I can actually feel the pleasure of just lying there and letting my mind drift. I’m conscious to know I’m snuggly in bed and that’s a great feeling. So for me, I actually like my body being awake. That’s the reason I lay on the couch, much to my fiancés dismay that I would rather lay alone on the couch where the cats walk all over me and crush my ribs, their wet noses tapping my skin as they examine what the hell I think I’m doing with my life, then in her arms in our warm bed. I lay there merrily, thinking about nice happy things, body at rest, mind adrift, milk getting sneakily licked from my cereal bowl by those assholes as I lay careless and oblivious in my own warm bubble of rest and contentment. This is also subliminally stressful as I have to remember to get up at eight and each morning, my drifting mind lives in secret fear and sheer panic that I’ll properly fall asleep and be awoken at like 8:15 by my ashamed partner. Nonetheless, I always get up because I don’t actually sleep, I just lay there, pointlessly. Let’s think about what can be done in half an hour?

 ü  A workout session

ü  Reading a book

ü  Applying for jobs

ü  Answering emails

ü  A walk with fresh air

ü  A shower

ü  Putting effort into your make up, hair and outfit

ü  Chores that you now don’t have to come home to

ü  Making your partner breakfast

ü  Watching EastEnders whilst washing up

You can get a lot done in that space of time so why was I just lying there, not even sleeping? It was pointless and I decided to change it, to explore the enigmatic world that rapidly progresses as we lie half dead asleep. The World of the Larks.  The Larks are strange beings, they do the equivalent of half a day’s work a night owl does, in the two or three hours you’re still asleep. They are powerful and their motivation and strength should be feared or stolen from them when you get the chance. I decided this morning, I would try it. I spent a week, a few years ago, jogging at 6am. It was winter, dark, everyone at the bus stop looked like lonely orphans in any film designed to tug on your heart strings, and it didn’t appeal to me. However it’s the penultimate month of summer now, so I thought it would be different.

 The hardest part already was the night before. Using my valuable, precious, beautiful time in evenings to actually be asleep by 10pm. I was devastated. I typically have so much damn fun in the evening, writing ideas for my 27 open novels, being too devoted to Bored Panda, Facebooking drama watching, TV, shouting “CUTENESS” at my cats, then I’ll go to bed at the ridiculous hour of about half 11, 12 or even 1! I’d fall asleep straight away and then repeat the aforementioned cycle of the 7:06 start. It sounds dreadfully unproductive and like a stereotypical uni student really. Like I would have lived when I was working till 10pm then at uni at like 10 or 2am. But this isn’t fun times anymore, I have a big girl job with a big girl flat and a big girl life and car insurance. It’s time to behave like a big productive girl who organises her life in diaries and budgets. So now we’re in the morning and I sort of woke up at 4:48am, my brain obviously pre-empting its doom. Then 5am hit. I took some advice from videos I had watched to prepare for this and I charged my phone in the hallway outside my door. That way, to shut off the noise, I had to get up, walk out to the hall and crouch down, giving my knees a workout already to switch it off. My partner decided to do this experiment with me, but left her phone on the nightstand, showing clear signs that her heart wasn’t in this, but she came with me and I feel so very proud. Her names Ashleigh by the way. Anyway, so I used the time to respond to some messages, they had built up because I didn’t use my phone half an hour before bed the previous night, another tip I picked up. The break from the screens will really do me good. It will help my eyes and my concentration levels. My eye lids won’t be lower, looking down at the phone, which helps with the eyes feeling lighter and me feeling more awake.

I was also surprised with how awake I actually felt. I find this happens every time I wake up before 7am, I always feel more awake then when I wake up after 7am. It’s odd but it’s true. Your body feels a bit weaker rather than just sluggish, but your eyes and mind are awake, like this is the time they are meant to be up all along and you’ve been over sleeping them. I don’t know if it’s the same for everyone else, but always been like this for me. So we woke up and had some grapes and water. I’m the type of person who could honestly eat KFC and drink coke, 5 minutes after waking up. Ashleigh could barely look at the grapes. 2 hours before their breakfast time, and the cats thought we were tired enough to forget and feed them early. Suckers! So then we left in her car and we drove to these hills near our flat, you climb them in a twisting motion and they overlook a beautiful canvas under the blue skies’ light of cars racing down the motorway, dull brown house roofs and Greater London pollution. Once we reached the precipice, we found our journey up had consisted of talks of the mind, how it copes with waking up early, how being productive actually boosts our serotonin levels and how we feel happier and more alive. So smarter conversation was happening. In our normal routine, the only conversation we’d get in the morning is what’s happening on Facebook or… nothing. It felt great to have an in depth conversation with nothing but the breeze around us, no screens no third party media to influence our conversations, just us, our minds and the world. It was lovely.

At the top, it took a minor toll on our legs. Let me tell you by the way, your legs at 5am are the equivalent to the little devil on your shoulder who tells you, you won’t get a degree because you’re useless at life or you won’t ever find a career you love just lower your standards or you won’t feel in the slightest horrible if you spend over £20 on a pizza delivery at 11pm on a week night. They don’t like 5am and they will remind you you’re a sadist and to have mercy and send them to bed. Ignore them, they are the over dramatic one in the family. Nonetheless, we sat down at the top and began to read our respective books. Mine was “The Good Guy” (Susan Beale), set in 1964, a realistic view on marriage, its ups and downs, the pressures on the typical masculine and feminine roles, motherhood and adultery, and hers was “I Let You Go” (Claire Mackintosh), how one mistake, brought on by pressurising and damaging events, can turn life upside down, with thrills and chases and emotions tugged hard. We only read a chapter each, but as everyone knows, books nourish your eyes better than a screen will, they nourish your imagination, forcing it to work to picture what you read rather than it being given to you, they nourish your vocabulary and extend it and they nourish your mood for the day with the journey you take when reading it, leaving you picturing your own world and story with more passion and thoughtfulness.

We descended the hill (and I ran up another, sorry legs L I am a bit heartless) and made our way home. She cooked us an omelettes and I washed up meaning, we will come home to a clean and tidy flat with no chores after a long day at work. We had tea and coffee, ate our food, shouted “CUTENESS” at the cats for a 37th time, and watched the YouTube Video that inspired this. I will link it down below. When we looked at the time it was 5 minutes to 8. I still had 5 minutes and I felt like I’d done my whole usual morning up until lunch time.

 This experiment really did change my day, I feel brighter and more awake at work, driving to work made me feel more conscious and thus, safer. My morning was accomplished and productive, I felt like I had a much better handle on my life. We saw people jogging, people exercising, couples doing yoga at the top of the hill, and the enigmatic world of morning larks turned out to be a nice peaceful group of people exercising, nourishing their minds and bodies, leaving them free to relax in the evening. My partner and I both feel rejuvenated, in control, happier, fresher, lighter, healthier and less stressed immediately. I even got a text about something that had been stressing me and I swear it felt so much lighter on my shoulders, in fact it went straight over my head because I felt happy and in control of life, not down trodden and rushing to get to work. I suggest you all spend at least one day waking up at 5am, I promise you, you will not feel as over tired as you think you will, you’ll even feel more awake than usual, or your money back! It’s still, sort of summer, so leave the house, and go on a small walk or read a book, climb a hill and kiss the rising sun, do anything as long as it’s doing something productive. Then cook a hot breakfast and feel proud of your strength and your beautiful, accomplished morning. I do not miss my beautifully pointless naps and my hobby of running red lights because I’m late for work.

 Mentioned YouTube video - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eGWrGFlYtAQ

Thank you

Siobhan

[ificanwriteiscannon]

Steve Harrington imagine 

A\N: Ok, so this sucks but I’m in a Steve’s crises so I had to write something. I mean who cares if its 2am and I  have to wake up at 5, right?

As always, sorry for any mistake, the gif and the characters don’t belong to me( in my dreams Steve is mine, does it count?) but the story does. Hope you guys like it! 

Y\N Henderson always dreamed of college, just the thought of getting out of Hawkins was enough to encourage her. It’s not the she didn’t like the place, she did, but the girl always expected more than the city could offer. 

After the events of the past year (what her little brother liked to call ‘the attack of the demogorgons‘) it was harder to leave home, but it was easier when she found out her best friend was not only going to the same college but also going to be her roommate. But now, Y\N was starting to rethink if that was really a pro. 

“Oh c’mon, just admit it! You are attracted to him” 

“No” The Henderson answered without looking for the other

 “No you’re not attracted to him, or no you just won’t admit it?” Y\N opened and closed her mouth a few times but ended up just rolling her eyes 

“Just do your damn paperwork, okay?!” 

“Whatever you say, oh and by the way, he’s still staring” The girl lifted her eyes from her book and focused them in front, finding Steve looking back at her. She blushed and lowered her gaze again. “Gotta go, have a date with some senior “her friend squealed while collecting her things 

“Are you really leaving me alone for a college boy?” Y\N raised her eyebrow crossing her arms. “Of course not,” Her friend smirked and waved to the table in front of them “Harrington is gonna make you company” Before she could say anything her friend waved a small goodbye and Steve was in front of her 

“Hi there stranger” He said with his hand on the back of his neck “mind if I sit here?” She just shook a ‘no’ and he sat beside her. She tried to focus on her book and forget about her ultimate dream boy right beside her. 

“After all we’ve seen together this shouldn’t be so awkward, right?” He said after a few minutes of silence. She just chuckled, and finally looked to him look out of the corner of her eye. “What happened?” She thought of pretending not to know what he was talking about, but he would see thru her crappy excuse.

 In the junkyard while fighting those goddamn things, Y\N and Steve shared a moment. Well more than just a moment, a kiss. 

She was attacked by one of the Demo-something, and right when she saw its mouth open and she got ready for the pain, nothing came. She slowly opened her eyes and observed Steve kill the thing with his bat. He came to her and checked for any injury, and when he found none she lifted his chin and whispered an ‘I’m ok’. They stared at each other for a moment and then she felt his lips press on hers. It was fast but filled with something Y\N never felt in any other kiss in her life. 

They never talked about it, didn’t matter how many afternoons he went to her house to play with Dustin or like he called their “men lessons”. She didn’t know what to say. Of course Y\N wanted to talk about the kiss, better yet, do it again. But she was not going to be a patch up for Nancy, so she did the only thing she knew how to do when she couldn’t face a problem, she ignored it. 

She sighed and shrugged her shoulder “You and Nancy, I guess” 

“Bullshit” He said a bit higher “You knew that Nancy and I were over, and yet you ignored me like nothing ever happened” 

“Well that was what you did the first time those things appeared”

 “That was different, I was starting to feel something for you”

 “Yeah, well, me too” For a moment they just held eye contact. Realization hitting the Harrington “I have to go. See you around Steve” Y\N got up, but before she could lift her book he held her wrist “Steve, I -..” He moved his hand south and laced it with hers 

“I’m sorry “ Steve observed her while she watched their hands interlaced “I would never want to hurt you. I guess I should’ve listened to your brother all along” Y\N widened her eyes and turned to him. The boy chuckled and gave her his best puppy eyes “Promise you won’t kill me?” She shook a yes “Your brother may have read your diary, and possibly told me a few things” The girl’s mouth opened in shock as she sat again. 

“I can’t believe that little shit” She whispered to herself while Steve laughed weakly.

 “So, is it true that my smile could light up the whole Hawkins?” Steve wriggled his eyebrows while she hid her face between her hands “Cause, you know, I’d flattered since it came from the owner of the most beautiful lips I’ve ever seen” Y\N rolled her eyes trying to hide her blushing face

 “That was really cheesy Mr. Harrington” Steve shook his shoulders 

“I am a very cheesy guy, you should get used to that” 

“Oh, why would that be?” Y\N faked innocence

 “Cause I’m pretty sure your little brother just planned our spring wedding” He mocked and they both shared a small laugh attracting attention and ‘shhs’ from the other students on the library. They forced themselves quiet and Y\N bit her lip.

 “God , I want to kiss you” He said to himself but she heard

 “Then maybe you should” Y\N replied as she held his hand. Steve lift his eyes for her and looked for any uncertainty on her eyes, and when he found none he kissed her. This kiss was cautious and slow, but still filled with passion. Steve caressed her cheek while one of her hands held his neck and the other clutched at his arm. Right when the boy was about to bring her closer they were interrupted

 “Hey, you two! This is not the place to do.. That. Get out, now!” They recognized her as the responsible for the library, and went out while being watched by the rest of the students. The Harrington wearing a proud smirk and Y\N hiding her red as tomato face between her hair and Steve’s chest.

 “Perhaps we should thank that dickhead after all” Steve said outside while holding the girl in his arms 

“Who would’ve thought of that” She answered biting her lip before he kissed her again.