#and it does. but he also complains now when i have to sleep at 9pm so i can get up for morning shifts

[0bsc3ne]

bitching abt my partner again so i can get it out of my system and not let it fester

had a Discussion yesterday and i said how i didn't like that i, someone who naturally wakes up early and has to go to bed around 11-midnight to get decent sleep, have been spending the last few months either sleep deprived or forced to use sleeping pills to sleep, when he sleeps in til fucking noon, even on the two days we both have off and can, yk, spend time doing things in the morning together, and then he complains that we never do anything outside (bc we live in florida. anything after noon is just a fucking sauna.)

anyways. i ask if he can start waking up earlier. he says he'll wake up at 10 today. i go, ok, thank you, but what does that prove? that you can do it once? i've been changing my schedule for months. i want to hear that you'll try to do it consistently. (And 10 isn't early anyways, but i didn't say that). he insists he's going to do it. makes sure i see him set an alarm in front of me and everything. so anyways. 10:01 i get a text that he's going to sleep a little more.

man.

[ahnsael]

I'm surprised to realize that I have not mentioned this here.

I left my job at the casino. I was under a microscope from somebody above my boss. I don't know who, but that doesn't really matter.

I have health issues. I was in the emergency room twice in a week. Then I went home early a few times after throwing up into trash cans at work because it would come on too suddenly for me to make it to the restroom. As a result, I was put on probation.

The writing was on the wall, so instead of getting fired I terminated my own employment. Everybody has been nice about it (at least those I have spoken with). And I hold no anger towards the casino or anyone there. Not even whoever it was who decided that I was on very thin ice, and tap dancing. Depending on what comes next, they may have done me a favor.

For now I am resting after over seven years of working on my feet, and adjusting back to a more "normal" sleep schedule. I used to wake up at 9pm for my graveyard shift. Today I got up at 6pm. It's a process.

I still wake up for moments to roll over and think "Who am I wrking with tonight? What specific things do I need to get done tonight?" And then I realize that neither question applies anymore.

I know I burned the bridge with the company. I only gave 18 hours notice. But I am honestly thanking everyone I speak to with whom I worked. Until receently, it was overall a wonderful experience. I even enjoyed it recently, but had added stress because of the situation. But I generally like (almost) everyone I worked with (and those I wasn't a fan of are gone -- I even get along with employees who almost everyone else does not like; it's all about how you approach them). I had over seven good years there. But it was time to move on.

There are a LOT of times throughout my career, and different jobs, where I ask an employee to do something they would rather no do and they respond "If any other manager had asked me to do that, I would refuse. But since it is you, I'll do it." When I was new at the casino, I told a porter (read: custodian) that my first rule of being a manager is to never ask someone to do something that I would not do. One night, someone vomited on the restroom floor. I couldn't just walk away from it, so I grabbed a handful of towels and started cleaning it up. My porter just happened to walk in as I was doing it. I did not advertise that I would be doing it. He walked in, saw me on my hands and knees (back when my hands and knees worked right) and said "Wow, you really did mean it when you said you wouldn't ask us to do anything you would not do!" From that point on, he never complained when I asked him to do something.

Iam really going to miss both my coworkers and my guests. I went in last night just to collect a few personal things. I forgot about my umbrella, but it felt awkward being there so soon after resigning. I refused to go into the office. That wouldn't feel right. The office is employees only. So the other manager grabbed a few things, then we spoke for a bit and shook hands. This is the manager with whom I did not get along for months. They we had it out and understood each other better and then we got along. We shook hands. I got to wish my security guard the best and shake his hand. I got to say goodbye to a bartender with whom I generally only worked with once per week, but we had good conversations on that one night per week. I got emotional enough that I had to let it pass before I drove home. Driving home with blurred vision from crying would probably be about as dangerous as drunk driving.

I still get emotional over it. I had been there since mid-July 2016. This is the end of a long chapter in my life. I am still a little surprised I went through with it. But I was going to be pushed out if I didn't walk out on my own. And I know this was not what my boss wanted. He did not want to suspend me Friday morning. It was onlytwo days, but it also came with 90 days probation, like when I first hired in, but more strict suspension. If I even left work early, I was likely going to be fired from the sounds of it, even if I am sick.

I woke up to a message from the assistant property manager (he was part of the disciplinary meeting when I was suspended) telling me he thinks I did the best thing for my physical and mental health.

There is only one sour taste that I have in my mouth.

We were robbed at gunpoint in July of this year. Our county has an app where I can make sure they are still in jail. But one of our employees has severe PTSD after having a gun aimed at them. I was in a break area when the robbery happened and didn't know it had happened until the robbers had left. I called 911, not knowing that another employee was already on the phone with them. AFTER I called 911, the employees said that the gunmen had said they would come back to shoot and kill us all if we called law enforcement. I may not have been out there, but I have been robbed at gunpoint. This was mid-2000s. I still have flashbacks.

So if they said they didn't feel safe and wanted to go home, I would let them. I have a heart. Sure, it left us short staffed, but my most recent boss would agree that part of being a manger is running the business, but we also have to care for our staff.

Then it came down from HR that if this person called off or went home early, we had to give very specific reasons.

First, they already know the specific reasons. They are just being picky. They have a note from this person's psychiatrist detailing how deeply her PTSD goes. One other time she had fallenwhile getting out of bed and felt like she may fall again during her shift, and I put that down as the reason. But I was being askedd to go deeper into asking about and announcing her private medical information. That rubbed me very much the wrong way.

This is not the bartender I saw last night, but they are one of the first people I told after I made it official and we spoke on the phone and wished each other well. We do have each other's phone numbers so it was not necessarily goodbye. But she is this sweet ld lady who can party. Emloyees are entitled to one free "after shift" drink whether they are gambling or not (if not gambling they have to pay for any further drinks but the casino's drinks cost less than any other bar nearby). She ordered a shot of Fireball and a manager who is thinking of leaving early next year (one of two planning to leave -- I don't know that they will be able to maintain a 24-hours-a-day operation with as many of us as they are losing) decided, as a joke, to fulll a "bucket glass" with Fireball (if you aren't familiar with "bucket glass," think rum & Coke sized, but not the tall 12 or 16 oz glass). He figured he was just wasting booze but that it would be funny.

Then this sweet old black lady, always demure and quiet, picked up the glass and slowly downed the entire thing in one go. The rest of the graveyard crew and the manager just stared and dropped our jaws. It really was impressive. The manager asked if she wanted another one and she wisely said no.

This same guy once made me a Jack and Coke in a tall glass and filled it up about 7/8 of the way (after icing the glass) with Jack Danieals, then just added a splash of Pepsi (they are a Pepsi company). I nursed that thing for about an hour and a half. I wasn't going to down it like a bucket glass of Fireball and then drive home. The other crew member who had a drink with us had a wine glass ful of tequila. And the company wonders why the cost of goods for the bar is so high. That bar will never in the history of the casino make a profit. It's their loss leader. Most drinks are complimentary. But it keeps people at the slot machines, which is where the profit comes from. Even when someone wins a huge (and my huge, at this casino that is as high as $15,750), it is actually good for the bottom line. Because they tell their friends, who then come in thinking they will win. And paying jackpots was my favorite part of the job. There is just something about laying out thanksands of dollars in front of someone while counting it out to them. I always loved when people win.

After all, I also watched people go completely broke chasing the big win. I saw one once (well, I didn't actually see it, but I saw the afttermath) run out of money, drain their bank account, run out of money again, then beg people for $3 in gas money to be able to get home (if I would have seen that, I would have had to ask her to leave, but I found out after the fact). When someone (another sweet old lady who I haven't seen since COVID hit so I have a feeling she is no longer...capable of visiting, let's put it that way) told me, I saw the one who had asked for $3 -- you guessed it, gambling that $3 to try to turn it into more.

But people do not seem to understand how slot machines work. Sure, they pay back generally close to 90% of what they take in. That is mandated by the state. But that is an OVERALL percentage. The machines will take and they will take. Then one person will get lucky, and the machine stays in compliance. There is never a guarantee that a guest will win at all. I once put $60 in a machine, bet the minimum of 75¢, and ran out of money without a SINGLE winning spin. Not even a win that paid less than my bet. Not even a one penny win. I never played that game again. But I have paid jackpots on that machine. I was just the unlucky one that time.

Another time, before I started spending more for better health insurance (and thank goodness I did that), I had a game that I liked to play. Most machines have higner payout percentages if you bet more. I would take $200 of each paycheck and use it in that game and either play until that money was gone or until I hit something good. And even if I lost, I had the means to make it until the next paycheck. After upping my health insurance, I was gambling maybe $20 per month at most.

But this one day I was betting $8.80 (it has a Chinese theme and the way the number 7 is considered lucky by many here, there it's the number 8 that is considered lucky). I got a reel combination that resulted in a win of $4,320. On that day, I was the lucky one. For that matter, every employee working at the time (other than the manager -- graveyard is supposedly the only shift where managers can accept tips because we are wearing more hats as far as job duties), some other managers do, but I figure that is between them and the company) -- but every employee other than the manager was handed a $100 bill by me. Tips/tokes/gratuities are NEVER required. I've had to have this conversation many times over the years when employees help with a jackpot and there is no tip. I have to tell them "Yes, they just won $4,000, that does not mean they have not lost a lot more than that." And I could look at their stats if they were using a player's card and see that even after a jackpot like that, they have still lost a lot of money.

It was a very interesting business to work in. I do not at all regret my time with the company. And my boss was very kind when I called him at 5am to tell him I would not be working there anymore, effective immediately. SSo yeah, I deefinitely burned the bridge with the company. But I am staying positive about the people I worked with and the overall experience. Behind Disneyland, this was the second favorite job I have ever had. I may be sad about how it went down at the end, but overall it was a fantastic experience and I will remember the good years I had. I met good people. I worked with good people. I served guests who were awesome to have in the casino.

Granted, there was the guy who tried to jump through a window trying to escape deputies. There was the robbery. There was the guy (who thankfully moved to the other side of the country) who would come in hammered off his rear and want drinks. He once offered me $10,000 for one beer. I said that even if he pulled out $10,000 on the spot, I would still say no. I doubt he had $10,000 on him. I would show him the door, then he would come back even druner, and with no memory of having been there earlier. There were fights. We had a guy break one of our doors (not the window thing -- he actually slit the wood slamming it open because he was upset that I asked to check his ID to make sure he was old enough to be there).

There was some workplace drama between people, but I did my best to stay out of it. If I could understand where both were coming from, I would sit with them and help them hash things out. But if one person came to me complaining about an issue they have with someone else but I'm not seeing what they were (I wrote "are" -- I have to get used to past tense with this job), I just tell them I don't want to hear the complaints. I heard it already, made a decision not to act because I don't see the thing they are complaining about, or it does not involve my shift at all,but people tend to just harp on it (sort of like me with this post).

There was once (quite a few years ago) we had an emplyee ask to go home sick. Their request was granted. Then they sat at a slot machine gambline for hours. We had a manager have too much to drink and cause a HUGE scene. Because of them, a rule was made that managers could not have more than two drinks in a day at the casino (just the one Jack and Coke I had that one day broke that rule). But that rule went away when that manager left. It was a specific rule to keep them in line.

But the good FAR outweighs the challenges. Iam curious to see how things go now that I am gone. But it would probably have to be through the grapevine. When I went in to pick up a few personal items, it felt strange even though I refused to go into the office (after all, the office is "employees only" and I no longer qualify). Just just being there, at least this soon after my employment ending, felt odd.

But I will find something new. It is a new chapter. A fresh start. A chance to maybe sleep normal hours (not sure I will get there; depends on what the nex step in employment is). And two fellow managers have offered to write me glowing recommendations, so that is good. I have definitely burned the bridge with the company. I have not burned any bridges with those with whom I worked. And Ihave no reason to burn any bridges. I worked with a good group of people. This boss was up there with the best bosses I've ever had. And I know everything coming down on me was not his decision (trust me, I've worked for him for over seven years; he is not a liar so if he says he is being told to do something by above him in the company, I believe him). He has proven over the years that he genuinely cares. He once LITERALLY saved my life by sending me to the hospital. Nurses, after doing blood work, were shocked I was still even alive. I had told my boss that the next day was my Friday, so I would go then to not miss work if I was kept overnight. Nurses said that if I would have ignored my boss and waited, I would have definitely died that day. Three days and two blood transfusions later, I was back on my feet and back at work.

So again, despite the fact that it came down to "leave on your own terms, or their terms?" I will always look back at my years there as a good experience. I learned a lot. Not just about the casino business, but how to be a more effective manager. As inconvenient as the times of training classes can be (great, let's go to a noon two hour training class when I have to be up at 9pm for work), the training program is good. And ongoing. You don't just go through initial training and then you're on your own. Classes are even repeated to keep it fresh. There is a binder of shift manager operating procedures in the office that we are told to read four times a year. Most of it is mundane and simple and there were pages that I skipped because I was there for so long I knew them. But there are also some special circumstances covered that it was helpful to re-read. Tehnically I was breaking a rule when I gave CPR at the casino one night. But if a 911 operator is telling me to do it, I am not going to argue. It's like the casino attendant who saw the robbery starting and was not seen, and immediately went outside to call 911, and told them -- when the robbers left -- which way they went, he could have gotten fired for that even though he did EXACTLY the right thing; not per policy, but as a person. All of the managers, including me, GANGED UP on HR to make sure he would not lose his job for having his cell phone on him or not having a manager be the one to make the call (I was uot back, and the other manager was a little busy being held at gunpoint and being threatened with death if he so much as touched his cell phone).

There are things about the company I will never understand. Like, I have an Apple Watch, and a new policy was emailed from HR a few days ago saying they are not allowed. And yet when I was part of drop night until this past monday, whoever was counting money would call me on my personal number (even not carrying my phone, even though I did start carrying it against the rules), I could answer on my watch. If I am not supposed to have it, why did my bosses call me on it?

But I did like when people would see me talking to another manager on my watch. I felt like Inspector Gadget. The difference is that his calls with Penny or Brain (did he have video calls with Brain? I forget) were video calls. Mine were audio calls.

Anyway, I need to shut up. I just have a lot of emotions in me right now. But the fact that my boss did not try to convince me to stay (he can be VERY pursuasive) and my other casino-level boss is telling me that he thinks it was the right thing makes me feel better about the decision. They know I got out before I was forced out. I was not sure about the "forced out" option but I had a feeling. Their reactions tell me that my intuition was correct. I do not know what is next, but I needed to turn that page. I just happen to be on a blank page right now. But the text will continue. I am going to miss the heck out of that job. Not as much as I miss Disneyland, but they were good to me for a long time. It's just a shame that I fell under the microscope because of health issues that they have documentation from doctors about. But I will not let that spoin my memories. A few people say I should sue them for holding medical issues against me, but I do not want that hassle. When I went down in January, I called my boss to tell him that I was ready to return to work, but told him that I would be using a walked. He said "absolutely not in a walker." Then he got chewed out about reasonable accomodation, and he let me back. And the funny thing is that whoever enforced reasonable accomodation is likely the same person who now wanted me out. I do not know that for sure.

So, yeah. That happened. I will see what the next chapter entails. All I know is that she won't discover that it's him 'til chapter three (Beauty and the Beast reference unrelated to my situation). As emotional as this time is, I have to find those moments of humor and happiness. It is a huge change in my life, but I have to remain myself, even under stress. And the encouraging words of even my bosses tell me that not only do they accept my decision, but they want what is best for me in the long run.

It's almost like the last time I was at Disneyland in 2019. I saw one of my old managers on the parade route irecting the sales of glow merchandise (it was always his thing) and I walked up to say hello. I look a LOT different than I did as a cast member. I'm much older and balder and more wrinkly. He recognized me as soon as he saw me. And right before the Main Street Electrical Parade (I think -- maybe it was Paint the Night by then; speaking with a former colleague who was maybe my best boss ever was more important to me than the parade). I remember "shooting out the lights on Main Street." I would take two glow swords and recreat the 1992 opening ceremony to the Barceloa Olympics (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gmRf41SVHS4). Except opposite. That guy used a bow and flaming arrow to light the Olympic torch (and it really was an impressive shot). I used my (fake) bow and arrow to turn the lights off for the parade. I always got at least some applause directed at me, not just the parade. I used to walk down Main Street U.S.A. and get cheered. Even during other parades, I would (badly) dance (I am not much of a danceer). But people recognized that I was trying and they would applaud.

I will not remember the casino QUITE as well as I do Disneyland. But I wil remember it fondly.

There will come a time when I will make another appearance at the casino. After I am employed again, I may even gamble some. But it is too soon, other than picking up some personal items yesterday.

[sweetcathedral]

🖤Hero Academia — Aizawa🖤

Note: I thought I’d post an old work here. Also, b/c I’m seeing a lot of minors migrate to ao3, I’m thinking of switching all my works to here since it’s easier to monitor, which means I’m deleting my ao3.

⚠️: bulge, breeding, somnophilia, cnc

He’s late. Just as you thought, but that’s expected of Pro Heroes and you can’t blame him for being one. You knowingly accepted your common law conditions, so you can’t complain. You reached for your phone hoping to see his name tangled within the notifications.

NekoZawa: late

Was the only message that caught your attention with a little bit of disappointment. Deep down you already knew it’d come to this, but you still can’t help feeling let down a bit. As you were about to change out of your getup a series of sharp knocks startled you, catching you off guard.

“It’s mee!” shouted the familiar voice.

Midnight?!

You rushed to open the door.

“Kayama? You’re ba—,”

“Ahhhh! So cute, so delicate, just youth!” she huffed in excitement at the sight of your longline lace bra and single-ruffled panties.

“Ah! Wai—youth? You know we're not that far in age,” you said, as you try to hide behind the door.

“Please, I'd kill to be 5 years younger, and don’t even try hiding from me. Even though he doesn’t care much about looks this definitely falls within his tastes,”

You blushed at the compliment, wishing it had come out of Aizawa’s mouth instead.

“Anyways,” she continued, “how about some bubble tea? I got your favourite,” she whipped out a bag of drinks from behind her. You wonder if she knew of your plans and came to cheer you up.

Who am I kidding, she’s an R-rated hero. Her sixth sense is basically her sex sense.

“Yeah, I could use some company,” you smiled in relief, thankful for her sharp intuition.

Before you knew it, 9PM became 11PM in what felt like 30 minutes and that heavy feeling weighing on your chest left after a couple of laughs here and there. You couldn’t help but feel better in the presence of Kayama, you have no choice but to feel better in her presence.

“And after I showed his class a pic of you, that grape idiot said ‘ if that raggedy ass man of a sensei is able to snatch a woman like that then there’s still hope for me, right?! Right?!’ in that stupid lisp of his! I couldn’t help, but cackle in his face! Hahahahahahahaha!”

“Grape idiot?!,” you laughed, almost choking on your tapioca.

“It caused this huge uproar which took Aizawa an hour to settle down,”

“Sounds like an exaggeration to me,”

“Really? Then I’d have to ask Principal Nezu for permission to let you visit. Hmmm, maybe a surprise visit during his birthday, I’d get to see that purple shit bleed from his eyes again. Hah!” she said, her sadistic side twinkling in her eyes.

You could tell she wasn’t lying about the surprise visit as she hummed her thoughts between sips of beer. Although you know how much Aizawa likes to keep his private life separate from his professional life, your thoughts couldn’t help but ponder in curiosity at how he acts around his infamous class 1-A students. All he ever does is complain about them every time you ask, but just thinking about him acting like the strict teacher Kayama says he is . . . makes . . . you . . .

“Oi, oooii . . . I said OI!”

“Gah!”

“What the hell’s got you blushing like a dazed mess?”

“Blushing? . . . !”

You clasp your hands over your face, as if you’re trying to keep your thoughts and daydreams from escaping. You let your imagination run wild just from thinking about Aizawa as a teacher — his strict demeanour and cold eyes piercing through you . . . his deep growls muffled at the base of your neck as his grip tightens around your waist and hair . . .

“Oh! What time is it?” Kayama exclaimed, disrupting your thoughts.

You reach for your phone to check the time, seeing 11:17PM illuminating from the screen before flipping it to Kayama.

“Perfect!”

You cock your head to the side trying to think of what could make Kayama that excited, but before you could react, her quirk had already taken hold of your consciousness.

Aizawa let out a heavy sigh staring at the time on his phone. It wasn’t the first time he’d let you down like that, even though it’s out of his control he still can’t help feeling disappointed in himself. Pro Heroes always have unpredictable schedules, but still, he’d wish his schedule had gone his way today.

“Thanks as always, Eraserhead. I’ll send the details your way once we’ve confirmed the date,” Tsukauchi reassured, dismissing him for the day. Aizawa nodded in response, finally, he thought. As he walked out of the station, his phone vibrated.

Ugh, what now?

He reached for his phone and unlocked his screen.

Kayama? Probably just more cat pics.

But much to his surprise, the series of pics caused him to stop in his tracks.

Kayama: Bon appétit! *kissy face*

Was the only message that followed at the end of the series of pics. After Kayama used her quirk to put you to sleep, she happily cleaned the place up and settled you prettily onto the bed in an innocent, but also, somewhat tempting position. Who could blame her? She had a knack for setting up tempting situations for her best friends. Aizawa tapped on each pic, examining the details of your delicate lace bra and fluttery panties. He really wished his schedule had gone his way today. The longer he stared at each pic, the bigger his temptation and pent up emotions grew — frustration, doubt, confusion, jealousy, anger, greed, love, lust, it was causing him to lose all sense of logic. You were causing him to lose all sense of logic and he hated it. It’s his first time experiencing something like this, he’d never romantically loved anyone until you came into his life. At first you were just like any other Pro Hero he teamed up with in previous missions, but the mission you two took on escalated into an emotional high profile case, which caused him to spend more time with you. One thing led to another and now, you’re each other’s common-law spouse. Both of you could care less about the huge wedding traditions of planning a wedding day, banquet halls, invitations and all that, but unexpectedly, he did buy you a wedding ring — a customized designer ring at that. Not only does he not care about appearances, but he also doesn’t seem to care about prices, so long as it serves its purpose.

“Uh, Eraserhead? Everything okay?” Officer Sansa tapped on Aizawa’s shoulder, breaking him from his thoughts.

“Huh? Oh, Detective Tsukauchi already settled on a date already?” Aizawa quickly locked his phone and tucked it back into his pocket.

“Um, no, he was actually worried about you . . . you’ve been standing still here for a while now, just staring at your phone . . .”

The logical Pro Hero himself didn’t even realize that he stopped walking and was surprised to see the station still behind him. Tch .

“. . . yeah, I think I should head home now. Someone’s waiting for me. Thanks, Officer Sansa.”

He waved at the cat officer before tucking his hand back into his pocket, unconsciously digging his fingernails into the palms of his hands in frustration. He hated this feeling . . . and he can’t wait to take it out on you .

Aizawa hesitates to open the door, unsure of how he’d react when he sees you for himself. He carefully turns the knob, making sure not to make a noise that’ll wake you from your peaceful slumber. You were just like the pics Kayama sent him — back exposed with the soft glow of the city night lights highlighting your dainty shoulder blades . . . arms clutching the pillow from underneath that pretty little head of yours . . . one leg hitched up to the side while the other was elongated and tucked half way into the sheets . . . As he reached to caress your face, he noticed his hand trembling from suppressing his temptation. Tch. He pulls his hand back in frustration.

“ . . . mmph . . . Shou . . . ta . . .” you murmured in your sleep in between heated breaths.

That was enough for Aizawa to let go of any sense of logic and common sense he had left, and before he knew it, he was hovering over you — the weight of his body sinking into the duvet. His eyes trailing over your features, watching your chest rise and fall with every breath you take — a reassuring feeling that you’re real and very much alive to him. He annoyingly hears his name from the teachers at UA all the time, but when it whispers out from between those pretty lips of yours, it made him experience a feeling he wasn’t used to controlling. He gave in, leaving trails of kisses that slowly turned into hickeys and then bite marks. He felt bad for leaving those marks on your supple skin, but he also wished they were permanent, as if the wedding ring doesn't speak for itself anymore. Aizawa’s grip tightened on your thigh at the thought of anyone else touching you, pinning your leg to your chest. His rough hand traces down your curves before slipping them in between your thighs — a wet sopping mess.

Ah, her panties are ruined . . . shame, he thought as he ripped a slit open, big enough for what you’re about to take in. Whoops . . . I’ll just get her a new one.

The temperature of your body was rising as he continued to press up against you, leaving marks on your collarbone and teasing your insides with his thick calloused fingers. A wave of pleasure ripples through your moonlight kissed skin, slowly pulling you back to your senses. You bat your eyes a few times to shake off the heaviness weighing on your eyelids.

“ . . . Shou—haa . . . !” your body twitched as another wave of pleasure came over you, shaking off your sleepy numbness, awakening your sense of touch as you grip his forearm trying to get him to slow down. It was no use given how enamoured he was with your reaction, your measly grip is as light as a feather against his strength.

“Haa . . . wait . . . slowdow—mmph!,”

Aizawa places his hand over your mouth, silencing your relentless begging. You finally noticed his flushed face and entranced eyes — a face you’re not used to seeing.

“Shut up, if you know what’s good for you,” his deep voice reverberated in your ear, sending a ripple of shivers down your neck. He was a completely different person in a completely different headspace. The only thing that can bring him back to his senses is your safe word, but you know that if you give in he’d completely stop and resist touching you for days as penance for losing control. But . . . you love it when he loses control along with his sense of logic, so you melt into your favourite position, signaling him to release all his pent up emotions in you — a mating press. You bite your trembling lower lip, begging with your wet eyes as a smirk played across his face. He gently kisses your forehead before pulling down his bottoms, revealing his thick throbbing cock. Your cunt twitched at the sight of it, squeezing out your fluids, dripping down like honey.

“How badly do you want it?”

“. . . badly . . . Shou~ta~ . . .” you cooed.

His cock twitched at the sound of your light and airy voice, precum drips onto the sheets.

“Not yet,” he said as he began stroking his cock on your clit, making sure not to let an inch slip inside you. The sensation drives you crazy as you whimper and whine for him to fill you up inside, desperately begging with your hips. But Aizawa’s firm grip on your thighs won’t let you, and keeps you from getting what you want. You miss the feeling of being bred full . His strokes were getting faster, his panting turning into growls. Your body tensed and toes curled as the feeling came closer, letting a desperate sigh escape from your mouth.

“Already? But I’m not done with you yet,” he playfully whispers in your ear before ramming himself inside you.

“Haa!” you yelped.

Your plump walls twitch at the sudden movement, tightening itself around his cock.

“That’s my good girl,” he chuckled, cockingly.

Tears well up in your eyes as you bite back your whimpering. He grabs your hand and firmly places it on your lower abdomen,

“Do you feel me? I’m right here.”

With your hand firmly placed on your stomach, you can feel his bulge every time he strokes his cock in you. He keeps it there, so that you have no choice but to feel it until the very end — up until his cum fills you up inside. His long strokes began to shorten, each stroke getting harder than the last and unable to hold in your pants and moans. Not only can you feel the warmth fill you up, but you can also feel his cock releasing globs of his milk from the bulge protruding from your lower abdomen. Your fingers dance around it making him twitch, his bruising grip tightening around your wrist.

“Fuck,” he grunts, looking down at the mess you both made.

Your cunt was swelling at the amount of cum it’s trying to keep from spilling, gushing out every time your sticky walls twitch. Before Aizawa was about to pull out, you grab his arm,

“Wait . . . not yet,” you must’ve been pouting when those words fell off of your swollen lips cause you’ve never seen his features soften like that before. He lowers himself, feeling his weight sinking into the bed as he tenderly kisses your forehead, brushing your slick baby hairs from your face . . . the warmth of his forehead resting against yours . . . the reassuring feeling of his hand gently cupping your flushed cheeks . . . You reach for his face, thumbing the scar under his eye, diving in for a deeper kiss and wrapping your arms around him. His heart begins to beat harder as you begin to feel his cock swelling up again from inside you.

[jjuzoir]

Random Kageyama Tobio HCS

Word Count: 1851

Warnings: just... me being in love with a m*n other than masumi 😔 also! these are my headcanons as in,,, what i personally i think he’d be like ‼️ also me projecting my ideal man into him (as if he wasn’t it already 😋)

A/N: i... i love tobio so much it’s literally unreal... i couldn’t wait for a request (i’m still working on the remaining 4 too lolol) so take me projecting my love for tobio >:(

— Kageyama normally wears loose fitting clothes or athletic-style clothing. His favorite go to outfits tends to be a loose tee, some loose pants with an obnoxious Nike logo he swears are super cool but look like two garbage bags sewed together, and running shoes. Throw a hoodie in there for colder weather, even then he still manages to look good.

— He takes very good care of his hair, like freaky good care, because of Miwa. Once she enrolled in cosmetology school and she saw Kageyama use the same baby shampoo from when they were kids she freaked out (if she’d been any later he’d start using 3-in-1) and chewed his ear off about hair care. His hair is super shiny and there’s literally no freeze, he uses nice smelling shampoo and conditioner too. Ugh, I love him.

— He has a very sensitive nose but it gets clogged easily so he doesn’t notice much unless it miraculously unclogs itself and he’s complaining about everything.

— “Eh! Hinata, why’d you smell like a fucking axe bottle?!” “Why does no one say anything about Tsukishima smelling like strawberries?” “Yamaguchi smells like... milk.” “Hah?! Sugawara smells bad-?!”

— He says he’s a picky eater to appear cool but as long as you don’t say what’s in the food he’ll down it. He’ll say he doesn’t like carrots but if you give him a salad with carrots he might even say “it’s the best salad he’s ever had”.

— He’s a hot sleeper, and not in the “oh he’s sexy” type of way. I’m talking, he’ll sweat buckets if he sleeps with anything other than a flimsy white t-shirt and his underwear.

— Might be me projecting my love for bunny teeth but he has bunny teeth, his front teeth are a bit bigger than average (not to the point it’s super noticeable but it’s still something Miwa teased him about), his aunties probably squeezed his cheeks and called him “baby bunny” when he was younger.

— He doesn’t go to sleep later than 9PM, he thinks if he does it’ll ruin his schedule (which it will) and fuck up his body - he’s seen Miwa screw up hers after she pulled a bunch of all nighters in her third year in high school and has been afraid since.

— The type to forget people were coming over and come out of his room shirtless asking for his clean underwear.

— His sister forced him to let her cut and style his hair which led to many questionable hairstyles. Tsukishima is genuinely so grateful to Miwa, especially when she was first starting - he’s got some pictures of Tobio with the shortest most embarrassing bangs ever saved in his phone in a file for blackmail if the need for it ever presented itself.

— Likes pissing people off on purpose sometimes, during one of the training camps he probably walked into the bath with socks on and was made fun of but out of spite he just… never took them off. Said he’d done it on purpose and all too. Tanaka cried out of fear for like a hot minute when he saw him standing under the shower with Iron Man socks on.

— He’s so petty too, if you make fun of him for messing up he’ll remember until you embarrass yourself to make fun of you. And when I say he remembers, I mean it - he can’t for his life remember when to use make and do in english but he remembers when Hinata made fun of him for wearing different socks back on their first year and yes he will bring it up on their second year when he did the same thing what are you going to do about it?

— Probably got scouted for a modeling agency once and began running away because he thought they were trying to kidnap him.

— If he had Tiktok… he would’ve gone viral after posting a video of him practicing, he posted for a while for fun and to flex on people that he was hot but then he saw a comment saying they wanted to drink his milk under a video of him drinking milk and he deleted his account, he can’t buy from that brand for a while.

— He’s got a video of a gorilla walking in two legs saved on his phone for when he’s feeling down and watches it whenever he’s not going well. People think he’s texting his S/O but no, he’s just watching a gorilla walk like minecraft Steve.

— He can’t pose for pictures to save his life, his default pose is an NPC stance with his arms stiffly hanging down and his eyes wide in surprise, don’t ask him to smile or else he will look like a serial killer.

— He’s got a bit of baby fat on his cheeks that won’t disappear no matter what. It’s become a pre-game ritual to pinch his cheeks. He’s also got dimples you can really only see when he smiles naturally but he doesn’t know and he’d get shy if he knew and try covering his face so don’t tell him, that’s a fact he told me so himself.

— Cannot dance to save his life. He’s so long (?) his limb control is non-existent, it appears in game and vanishes when he steps out of the court. He really just bounces on his heels and moves his arms like a t-rex, don’t ask more of him.

— Buys his clothes one size bigger just in case and Miwa teases him saying he’ll need them when he gets old and fat.

— Gets asked out often but always rejects, then has the audacity to complain he’s never dated anyone like he hasn’t turned down half of the school's population.

— Can’t sing. He’s got a nice speaking voice but ask him to sing and he’s out of tone, out of sync, out of breath, and out of the room in 5 seconds.

— Sugawara joked about having him singing as his alarm clock and Kageyama actually believed him, probably sent him a new recording as a gift after he annoyed him during practice.

— Surprisingly funny when he wants to but most jokes fly over people’s heads since he seems so serious most of the time, it annoys him to no end. Yachi still struggles differentiating when he is and isn’t joking because his tone literally doesn’t change at all and she doesn’t want to offend him.

— When he was younger he liked to collect rocks, not even the pretty ones he’d pick the most average, raggedy rocks off the ground and clean them up and tuck them to bed because he saw Miwa play with her barbies like that. Still owns his first rock, he named it “Johnson” after Dwayne Johnson, aka the rock (he’s had to explain it so many times he’s exhausted).

— Accidentally drank expired milk once and didn’t notice until his stomach began hurting and he thought he became lactose intolerant and he was inconsolable for days until he realized it had expired like a month ago - he went on a milk shopping spree and the milk sales that week saw a 20% rise from the last few months.

— Tobio had bad handwriting until he was in Junior High because his teachers couldn’t understand him and had him practice calligraphy, his handwriting is now one of the prettiest ones in the team and he’s the official inker of the VBC posters (as designated by Goddess Yachi Hitoka herself).

— His biggest fear for a long time was getting eaten by piranhas because he saw it happen so often in cartoon shows he genuinely thought it was going to be a bigger deal than it turned out to be but for like a solid 6 years of his life he avoided suspicions puddles just in case.

— Kageyama has a habit of rolling and unrolling his sleeves when he’s deep in thought, it soon made way to a habit of checking his wrist watch (he absolutely has a wrist watch, you cannot change my mind on that) but not actually reading it.

— His nails are very pretty, like most setters, he takes very good care of them. They’re filed down to a perfect length and he puts oils and creams, his hands in general are so nice. He takes a lot of pride in them, you know his cuticles are pushed back and trimmed and he could absolutely be a hand model. Kags’ hands are calloused, he’s a volleyball player of course they are, but it’s not to the extent of Ushijima or Daichi’s hands.

— Talking about hands, it’s probably one of his favorite features on people. He loves holding hands with his S/O and tracing the wrinkles in their palm, being able to interlock fingers with them and feel the bumps in them.

— Mumbles to himself when in thought too! Very nonsensical if you’re not informed on what he’s thinking about, if he’s thinking about you he’ll mumble your name or something like “pretty eyes”.

— Has a very healthy diet, like extremely healthy and thought out. He won’t eat anything too sugary or that could throw off his body, but he does have cheat days (which are rare but exist). He also doesn’t drink much soda or alcohol (once he’s of age).

— Things like smoking are a big no, he takes so much care of his body he wouldn’t even touch a cigarette or be near a smoking area, lowkey paranoid of ingesting the smoke too.

— When he’s older I can see him having a dog and a cat, the dog would be a big dog; if they stood on two paws it’d be the same height as you, he’d name or something like Tobias and think he was super clever and funny, the cat would probably a small cat he’d name Milk (it probably would be a black cat too but he does not care).

— Probably tried baby formula because he heard it was a substitute for breast milk. No further comments on this.

— I feel like he doesn’t listen to music, but if he had to choose something he’d pick instrumental music - not orchestral music or anything like that - but more of a chill, no deep meaning just guitar and piano track. I could see him listening to Shego Sekito or Joe Hisashi on occasion, he might even listen to some 2000’s pop if he wants something to pump him up during training (he works out to Brittney Spears’ “Womanizer”).

— A cuddle-bug when he’s sleepy, he’ll throw himself across his S/O and not move at all, he just wants to stay there and not move ever again (or at least until he’s not feeling like passing out). He’ll like to wrap himself around them and cuddle their neck, he’ll attach himself to their arm like it’s a lifeline.

— In other words, Kageyama Tobio… b-boyfriend material.

[hyrule-kingdom-updates]

ALL of the emojis for Siv :D

What is the kindest thing your OC has ever done for someone? What is the kindest thing someone has ever done for them? On the flip side, what is the worst thing your OC has done to another person?

I don’t think I can point out a *single* ultimate kind act, but Siv raising and caring for his brother throughout their whole childhood is definitely one of the kindest periods of his life. Spoilers, but: Siv didn’t actually believe himself to be capable of being a knight, in fact Ligero was specifically trying to keep him out of Larc’s life, letting them grow to be more independent, giving Siv every reason to be jealous and spiteful. But Siv trained to be a knight anyways because he didn’t want his brother to be alone through it all. He would never admit it, but Siv is a really kind and soft person. He cared for everyone of LinkLink’s scars and scabs when they went shield surfing, he took Zavis to a surprise party when his mother didn’t bother to throw anything that special. He wrote Revali letters, he sewed little rat plushies for Aryll to add to her collection—and I think it all stems from his childhood, where the only thing that he was certain of, the only choice that he could without a doubt claim was a good and kind thing that he didn’t mess up on, was caring and loving for someone that he by all other means didn’t have to.

As for the kindest thing someone has done for him, well honestly I think Siv would consider anyone giving him a basic amount of respect and appreciation as the “kindest” thing. Although once, Zavis allowed himself to team up with Link to plan a perfect party for Siv, which is to say, a very notable feat.

As for the worst thing Siv has done to someone: that’s probably spoilers. :3

What does your OC do when they see others upset or in pain? An upset friend? A stranger?

If a stranger was upset, Siv would probably just think, “Sucks to suck!” and move on. Unless they were like, REALLY sobbing, to the point where it would be impossible to ignore. Then he might stop walking, chat them up and buy them a drink, maybe hear their woes, but that’s probably it.

If it was a friend, he’d be immediately on their case, but would still try to play it off as him being an apathetic, disgruntled guy. But you know, Siv didn’t become an official royal Branch Buddy for nothing.

What is something true about your OC that they refuse to admit about themselves? Is there any reason to this besides embarrassment?

Under absolutely no circumstances will Siv admit that he is shorter than anyone. He finds it completely unfair that BOTH of his brothers are taller than him. He would hate it if you told him so, but Siv without a doubt has inherited a bit of his father’s ego, so calling him short, or even complimenting his hot royal guard brother when Siv is right there would ruffle his feathers to say the least

Describe a regular day for your OC. What is their schedule (if they have one).

Pre-Orator days, Siv basically wakes up whenever he wants (usually past noon), feeds the pet rats in the alleyways, then heads to the underground. Everyday is scraping enough rupees for a hot meal and a drink by selling illegal tickets to the underground monster fights, maybe organize a rigged gambling ring or two, and obviously scam any ten year olds that were looking to enter the world of pocket monster fighting themselves. Then when the “work” day is done, he’ll pop by an adequate tavern (the only one that would tolerate letting someone like him around) and eat and drink, and...that’s pretty much it.

As the Royal Orator, Siv wakes up and immediately heads to the dining hall, then hauls all the food and drink over to his office by 10am, cause that’s when his official work hours kick in. He then has to just sit there, listen to people’s grievances and input that will promptly be ignored (by either his hand, or most certainly by his superiors) while also posting out the important announcements and rat doodles with the Quill of Roost(both pre and post consumption). He might grab lunch in between and do fuck all, but by 9pm he’s gone out and about, doing whatever it takes to get as little sleep as possible because he doesn’t really like the sort of dreams he’s been having.

Current Siv doesn’t have a schedule, but he does have an agenda.

How does your OC think they will die? Does death scare them? Is there any reason for this?

Siv isn’t thinking about death. In truth, he thought he would have died much, MUCH earlier. Maybe get stabbed or executed? Maybe have a poor run in with an ex or particularly angry victim of his scams? But hey, now that’s he’s living the high life with all this power, he doesn’t care about death! For all he knows, he could live forever as long as he sticks with Ganon! All he has to do is follow what he says, and he’ll be happy forever and never have to fear anything ever again.

What is your OC’s most traumatic experience? (If they don’t have just one traumatic experience either pick one or describe them all!)

The Asunder Incident.

Siv constantly questions himself after that, “Why would I do that? Was I really capable of killing someone? Surely not, I’m not...I’m not that bad...” but the facts obviously stated otherwise. This was basically the incident that cemented himself as the person he is at the start of hku, apathetic and broken. He wouldn’t admit it then, but this singular event basically solidified everyone’s prejudice and perception of him, and rightfully proved them correct. It was his own actions that left him hated, abandoned, and alone, so yeah, he can’t complain now, it’s all his fault.

How would your OC react to the death of a friend/family member/loved one? Is there anyone they can confide in?

If Ligero died he would throw a fucking party for the ages.

Other than that, yeah, if someone he knew and cared about died he would be very heart broken about it. I think the only person he would really confide in about it would be Larc, but if it WAS Larc that died...I can only assume he would at the very least be severely depressed. He’s his favourite, cherished, little brat brother, after all.

What would your OC be like if they were evil. Or if they’re already evil what would they be like as the good guy?

This is an interesting question given that...I’ve already shown both sides to this, haven’t I? Maybe I’ll just let the story speak for itself...

How would your OC react to somebody telling them that they love them? (+ bonus give another characters/OC name!)

Siv would first play it off as a joke because defense mechanism! “Haha, yeah, and you know what I love? The bathroom!” and he would be off escape the situation. But if they were persistent, he would be very flustered and very...vulnerable, and scarily sentimental in his opinion. It would take some time, but I believe eventually he would really, truly accept it, in the end. Although patience is certainly a virtue, it took an entire childhood for him to use the L word for his brother.

What does your OC hate about themself? What lies about themself do they believe? On the flip side, What does your OC love about themself?

He hates being a bad person. He does not believe himself to be good or worthy of anything, thus he internalizes it wholeheartedly in order to gain that sense of control. So now that Siv’s accepted he will never be truly happy, he’s like, “Great! I can just not care about anyone else now.”

Thankfully, that’s changed recently, and he now believes, “You know what? I’m NOT a bad person! It’s everyone else that’s been wronging me! The problem with me is that I’ve been way to much of a coward to take what I deserve, so now I’m gonna do it, no matter what! I deserve to not be hurt anymore, and if I can’t do whatever it takes to achieve that, then how can I say I deserve to be happy in the first place?” Be sure to thank Calamity Ganon for that pep talk.

Right now Siv loves his power. He’s had the most control and power in this one relationship with Ganon than he’s ever had with anyone else in his entire life. He’s finally on top! Number one! He has something to really be proud of about himself! The old Siv hated themselves, but now that couldn’t be further from the truth.

Does your OC have any scars? How and when did they get them?

He doesn’t have any notable scars, especially given that he’s got the power o’ malice, baby! Malice is a representation of many things, one of them being time and memory, so it’s pretty easy for it to heal and return skin, flesh, and bone to a prior state. Perfect for healing and repairing people and objects, alike! Of course, malice is more famous for doing the opposite, sucking your soul out from you prematurely, feeling yourself die rapidly, your last breath being snatched and forced out of your lungs, a thousand breaths meant for a lifetime suddenly sapped out in a few minutes. But I don’t know why I’m talking about that, that’s not relevant haha

What is something your OC blames themself for and is it really their fault? Does it keep them up at night and is there any lingering trauma?

The Asunder Incident, he blames his actions for leading him to basically abandon his brother for like fifteen years. But that’s all I’m gonna say as I have plans to talk about his feelings on it further in the actual story.

In what situation would your OC be pushed to commit an act of violence? Would they go as far to kill someone if they had to? How would this affect them and their relationships with others?

Why, I can’t answer this in detail! That’d be giving away the story :3

Ok, maybe I’ll say this: Siv tells himself that he would do anything to get what he wants, of course he would do anything, because if he can’t, well then that just means he’s a pathetic coward who doesn’t deserve happiness anyways. So of course he claims that he will do anything, even killing someone.

What would your OC do if they were given god-like powers or the ability to change anything about the world for a whole day?

Siv would eliminate all shitty parents, maybe also give revive some dead people, and also permanently have a giant neon green tattoo of a dick be on Ligero’s forehead. Assivus would do the first thing, but he might also make everyone who has ever wronged him suffer for a very long time on top of that.

Describe one of your OC’s worst nightmares.

- Oh no, made a ficlet.

The first night he was in the castle, he had a dream.

There was a man, sitting across from him, dressed in glittering gold, with a green sash wrapped across his chest and waist. He was tapping his long nails against a desk, HIS desk, the white and purple quill still in the cup of ink, and blank parchment in front of him.

The man looked very out of place, and that was ignoring the fact that he was a withering corpse.

You’re dashing, aren’t you? The man said, still tapping his fingers. That’s when Siv realized that he was just sitting opposite to him, in the seat where guests were supposed to be. He tried to speak, but couldn’t. He tried to move, but couldn’t. He tried to blink, but didn’t.

He sat there and listened to the man, attentively.

Do you know what you’re doing here, Asunder? the man asked. Asivus didn’t. Do you know why I’ve allowed you here? What you are?

Siv didn’t know, but he couldn’t exactly express as such.

That’s because you don’t need to know. At least for now. The man leaned forward like mist, disappearing as Siv felt something pass through him, he couldn’t turn to look behind him as a delicate hand was on his shoulder. You’ll know things when I want you to know. You’ll say things when I want them to be said. And you will do things when I want them to be done. Because I own you. Err...

The man suddenly stopped to think, leaning on the right arm of Siv’s chair, tapping his bony chin, as if he had made a casual slip of the tongue. Because...you owe me. Yes, that’s the word. I’ve helped you so much Assivus Asunder. Or “will?” “Have?” “Am currently?” Futures and times are a funny thing. I apologize, I’ll have my words sorted out into something more professional and proper in our future.

The man spun around, and suddenly, he was no longer a corpse, but a dashing Gerudo man, dressed brilliantly and handsomely. His eyes were no longer a hollow gold, but green, somehow familiar.

The room was no longer some dinky orator office, but the sanctum of the castle, the apex of the kingdom. The man snapped his head towards him.

Let me ask you something, Assivus Asunder: Would you rather be here?

He gestured to the grand view of the sanctum, the sunset casting striking shades of red, black, and gold across the towering walls.

Or here?

The world spun once again, and they were suddenly on a dark street. The houses of Rauru diced the stone brick pavement. Siv glanced around and saw himself, sitting on the ground. There were two knights, one of them cursing loudly, and the other laying down beside him. There was so much blood and he could feel himself floating closer and—

No. NO. Wait. STOP. PLEASE! He tried to speak, scream, anything. No sound came. He saw a sword, a dark and rich puddle that seemed to even reflect his own face and—

They were suddenly back in the office.

Which is better? What do you prefer, of the two? I’m assuming the former? The man looked at him. I will allow you to nod yes or no to the former.

Siv immediately nodded a yes.

Trick question!The man boomed. Both are fantastic places, environments that you should love and cherish. There is so much good hiding in the places you would least expect, Assivus. I’ll help you remember that.

The world was suddenly nothing. Nothing but black. Just him, in a chair, staring at this smiling, pleasant, scary, red haired man. 

Don’t you want help, Assivus? I think there’s something you want, that you need help attaining? Isn’t there something? There’s no shame in admitting.

Siv thought for a moment, then slowly nodded a yes.

Do you want MY help?

Uhh...Siv wasn’t sure what to make of that.

Perhaps you can do a favor for me?

Fuck no! was Siv’s immediate thought. Who the fuck—First off, I don’t think I really like you, actually, so— 

Oh that’s alright! The man was suddenly very close to his face. Oh shit, could he hear my thoughts? Assivus, you can do whatever you want to do to be happy. I don’t want to force anything from you. He patted his cheek with a very cold hand.

In fact, I’ve now decided you don’t have to do anything for me. I am going to help you, and you don’t need to do anything in return. The man stood back, clasping his hands together. How does that sound?

I... He tried to speak, but remembered he couldn’t even move his lips.

I’m sorry again, Asunder. Here, I’ll allow you to speak now. The man didn’t even wave a hand, but Siv could suddenly feel how hoarse and dry his throat was.

So how about it, Assivus Asunder? I want you to be in charge of your destiny, I want you to be in total control. I would never force anything from you, I will simply be here, by your side, helping here and there, as you...figure it all out. How is that? Does that sound alright?

Siv opened his mouth, but couldn’t decide the words. If I say yes can I go back to sleep? Hella tired...

The man didn’t move, but Siv someone sensed a whisper beckoning somewhere with a “Yes. We’re all tired of many things, aren’t we?”

“O-Ok...” Siv finally said. “Alright, sure. I don’t see why n—”

Before the words were fully out of his mouth, the world suddenly stopped dead, as quick as a snap. He awoke from his bed with a jolt, his heart racing like he had just run a marathon, even though he didn’t find those last moments to be that thrilling or terrifying.

Siv sat for a moment longer, trying to contemplate the dream. But as most dreams are, the memory of it fell out of his grasp like loose sand between his fingers, and soon enough, it was already gone.

He flopped back into bed with a sigh.

Whatever it was, it was probably nothing.

What advice would your OC give to their younger self? What advice does your OC need now?

Already answered in a previous ask c:

[imagines-mha]

class 1-B and night routines

Monoma: if monoma doesn’t annoy at least 2 people per night he simply will not sleep. Wears the comfiest pyjamas- like a 100% cotton top and plaid pj bottoms and everyones so fuckin jealous. He tells everyone he has a 16 step self-care routine he does every night but he really just brushes his teeth and then sits on his phone for like 2 hours? Ike what do you GET out of lying??? 

Tetsutetsu: he thinks going to bed after 11pm is criminal. Literally doesn’t understand the cryptidcrew™️ who DONT MF SLEEP. Works out before bed which is 👌🏻👌🏻 OOF. Aw hes the type of friend to make everyone tea and toast and send them asmr videos if they cant sleep i love him. He usually spends his night dancing around with pony and working off all his ENERGY

Kendo: “yall im turning into bed i’m too tired for this shit” “kendo it’s 7pm”

My girl will retire to her room as early as she can (usually with the rest of the girls) and she just RELAXES. Like self-care to the max: paints her nails, watches tv, plans her tomorrow, showers. She’s usually asleep at 10pm and wakes up the next morning full energy I want what she has

Awase: he has the WORST sleep schedule like fr. Literally sits up on tiktok until 3am and he’s just like “oh shit i’m up at 7…” *continues scrolling* like bro GET UR ASS TO BED U HAVE TRAINING AT 6AM. His night routine ain’t anything special- he sleeps in sweats and always keeps his window open (although someone told him about banshees once and now hes lowkey terrified lmao)

Kaibara- the type to fall asleep on the sofa and wake up at 4 in the morning to find tsuburaba in the kitchen eating a full course meal and he just SIGHS and goes up to bed in the worst mood bc why tf are his friends so WEIRD. Likes to watch the stars and edit pictures before he sleeps- its so therapeutic to him and also productive so he’s winning

Rin- he drinks coffee every night after midnight and then goes “oh my fuck shit i just drank coffee why am i like this” like congrats u fuckin dumbass now u ain’t gonna sleep. And he never fuckin learns. Always does his hw at like 11pm, Also stays up way too late binge-watching star wars smh 

Tsuburaba: he gets up every night and treats himself to a three-course meal in the kitchen no cap no sound awareness my man will be blending shit full blast at 2 in the morning. Usually falls asleep sitting at the kitchen table and he 👏🏻 needs 👏🏻 a 👏🏻 chiropractor 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻. Also always forgets to do his homework until everyone’s packing up to go to bed and hes like “please,, anyone,, the math?”. Shoda wants to punch him so bad

Ibara: the most well-structured person in the entire building. At 7pm she has her shower, at 8:30pm she goes to pray, at 9:30pm she journals and draws to calm her mind, and at 10pm she meditates until she falls asleep- which is usually 10:20pm.. Everyone wants her self control and independance like damn how does she FUNCTION. Also queen of vegan self-care remedies 

Pony: girl is chaotic as fuck it’ll be like 10pm and rin’s like “yo pony can i copy the hw??” And shes like “WHAT HOMEWORK.” . *cue two idiots freaking tf out*. She’s always wearing matching pj sets and fluffy socks and loves sliding around in them like a dork. Dances every night before bed to tire herself out like shes just in the lounge deadass vibing to taylor swift and a new person joins her everytime . people would be dead without her

Kodai: movies every night or she won’t go to class the next morning. Shes always just sitting on her phone w earphones in like she has absoloutely no time to deal with monoma’s shit so she just peaces tf out of existence. Cutest pyjamas ever i love her pyjama queen. The go-to girl for homework she just leaves her bag open, as long as u return it shes cool

Tokage: oh my god shes so CRYPTIC and FOR WHAT. Pranks pranks pranks pranks pranks. everyone hates her for it and she loves it so bad. Like she has the balls to prank kamakiri and that TAKES BALLS LET ME JUST SAY . she’ll just leave her body parts in people’s beds and its SO annoying. They usually just pick up her stray arm and fling it at the wall in revenge then act confused the next morning when she complains abt the bruises 

Komori: cryptic as fuck. Does she sleep? Why is she always sitting at the table? What is she doing? . Closes her tabs whenever someone comes into the dining room and just stares at them til they leave again like :)). In the garden every night til she can’t bear the coldness- watches the stars and makes flower crowns and worships the moon i love her

Kuroiro: nighttime is the time he just evaporates like where tf is he like 🙄🙄 reel it in randy from monsters inc . Hiding in the walls and listening to everyones conversations and secrets is his only skill in life . Everyone thinks he doesn’t sleep and just wanders around (he does, he just likes to have an edgy reputation)

Kamakiri- did you hear that?? oh its just kamakiri fistfighting monoma in the hallway again. Fr takes no prisoners he needs his beauty sleep (or idk do bugs sleep lmao??). If you’re in his way while he’s RAMPAGING to his room youre dead bro when i say he takes bedtime routines seriously i MEAN it. He does self-care and tells NOONE but its lowkey cute idk lmao why do i have a crush on a bug lemme call my therapist real quick

Bondo- 9pm. Wind down time. A good book is all my mans needs and he’ll be out for the count in absolutely no time at all. Fukidashi will die jealous and bondo fucking loves it. Milks tf out of it too he’s like YAWN I AM SO TIRED OFF TO BED NOW TO SLEEP PEACEFULLY GOODNIGHT and everyone who WISHES they could sleep as early as that wants him to choke

Manga- king of never having hw done until 1am at the earliest 🤡. He lives on 1 hour sleep most nights and his speech bubble just says “no <3” until like 11am. Its cus of his crippling hyperactivity he’s running the halls at 3am practicing the entire mamma mia choreography ffs fukidashi U HAVE A CAREER AHEAD OF U 

Reiko: energy drink addiction 101 if she doesn’t drink monster every night before bed she’s convinced she’ll die. “I sleep all day and party all night” she says, crying over math hw at 2am. Plays music too loud and has LED strobelites on ALL NIGHT. Shes deadass doing witchcraft in the lounge w komori all night during finals week she doesnt give a single fuck x

Shishida: another reader,, mans will finish an entire book in a night by the force of sheer willpower alone. Takes a bath every night and it makes his fur so fluffy and smell like apples smdnwjdnwd. Perfect snuggle buddy for wintertimes (pony LOVES HIM) and he’s that good man who carries tsuburaba to bed when he falls asleep at the kitchen table

Shoda: “please don’t speak to me while im doing my homework im 👌🏻 this close to having a mental breakdown and all it takes is a single poke to reel me over the edge.” Complains all day about being tired then goes to bed at 2am?? Like no shit ofc ur tired bitch . Always up for a deep talk at night he knows EVERYTHING abt EVERYONE and hes so trustworthy hed never tell a soul

Honenuki: he meal preps and does yoga before bed 🤢 like WHO HAS THAT MOTIVATION. Irons and sets his uniform out for the next day before getting his homework FINISHED by 9pm . He’s pretty flexible w what he does at nights it 100% depends on his mood. Usually he’s helping Tokage with pranks or working out w tetsutetsu tho. Used to annoy people who were up doing hw after 11 like “really tsuburaba? You should be ashamed”. Shoda almost DECKED him once for it tho and he was #traumatised and never did it again

[skin-and-bone-love]

I can't take it anymore :)

Thats so complicated by now, my parents want to see me but also give me the feeling of beeing unwanted.

They say they love me and accept every decission I make but don't show it and get mad over everything I do.

I'm kinda locked in here rn, like I can go out n stuff but only from 10am to 12pm and 4pm to 6pm after that maybe from 7pm to 9pm, but just maybe.

I can't leave the city I am in, that means no more visiting my boyfriend and his parents. Kinda hurts tbh.

Now I realize how much harm my parents cause me and how unaware they want to be towards it .

I am living with 4 more Girls and one more guy in the same house now and 24/7 there are 1-3 caretakers.

I rather be alone, I hate living together with other people.

I have to visit my parents because no matter what I do, they are gonna be pissed so I rather take the risk of them beeing angry at me but with a chance they are glad to see me than them just beeing angry and hurted because I don't come over and visit them.

Everything I do feels like a chore right now.

The only time I am not completly depressed is when I am with my perfect loving boyfriend.

But ih boy here we go.. I can only see him from 4pm earliest to 9pm latest, and since he got school he could only be here at around 6pm.. he also has to drive a long trip per train and I feel so horrible that he does that. I mean why? Why does he keep driving almost 1 1/2 hours just to see me when we only see each other for a few little hours???

It's horrible, I hate that I did this, I mean I got a brught future ahead now but couldn't I just take it for a little longer? Why was I so weak..

Why am I still so fucking weak?!

Why can't the days just fly by?

Why can't I have the normal live I wanted??

Why does everything has to be so complicated?

I feel like I am drowning. I feel so unworthy of anything again. I feel so guilty for everything I have done and am doing.

I don't want this anymore.

U want to turn back the time, make my family a family give this little girl everything she deserves and keep her away from all those struggles so we dont have to struggle in the past and present.

I want my life to be normal, my family to be my family and my home to be my home.

Right now I don't have a home, I have a place to sleep thats it. And it hurts. Every kid, teenager or young adult deserves a loving home with parents.

And the worst is, I have parents but not loving and caring ones.. I still got more than other kids. And that keeps running through my head because I feel like I should be grateful and shouldn't complain over al of this..

[kpopforthe-truefans20]

M.I.N.E ch. 12

(I DO NOT OWN GIF CREDITS TO OWNER)

SUMMARY: Y/N was looking for a change in her life. so she moved to Korea with her best friends. She was a makeup artist and her friend, while taking all her makeup photos, put together a portfolio and sent it to Big Hit. Where Hoseok saw her and just had to make her his.Will he make it happen?

WARNINGS: None light chapter 

A/N:Wow I have not been updating like I’m supposed too. My apologies Loves (This is name I have given you guys btw) well here is a very late update, I will also be trying to update my other story as well today. hopefully that will done a little bit after this one but anyway enjoy. 

Hoseok POV

As soon as the words left her lips I couldn’t help the big smile I got on my face. And her smile was just as big. I picked her up and started to spin her around because I couldn’t contain all my excitement.

“Oh thank god y/n I'm not gonna lie you had me worried for a second. I thought you were gonna say no.”

“Well, I almost did, but if you're so willing to try then I'm willing to try too.”

I couldn’t help but smile even bigger at her words. They were just confirming everything that I wanted them too. She wanted to try and that’s all that mattered in that moment is that we would both try.

“So y/n, since I didn’t formally ask you the first time. Will you be my girlfriend?” 

“Yes Hoseok, I will be your girlfriend. Now onto more important matters.”

“Oh? What would that be exactly?”

“FOOD!! What are we eating? I'm starving.”

Y/N POV

After eating some take out and watching two more movies, Hoseok and I decided to call it a night since it was almost 9pm by now and I wanted to get a good night's sleep before work tomorrow. 

“Yeah y/n why are you packing your stuff are you ready to leave my place already?”

“No Hoseok, but it is late and i should head to my apartment so I can sleep and be ready for work tomorrow. Something you should do too ya know.”

Hoseok had walked up to me by this point and was standing close enough for me to feel his breath lightly on my lips when I looked up at him. I couldn’t help but look at his lips when he started speaking lowly again.

“Yes. I should but that doesn’t answer my question: are you ready to leave already? I was hoping maybe….. We could have some fun before I take you home?”

As soon as the words left his mouth I couldn’t help the chill that rolled down my back when he was done speaking. 

“As nice as that sounds. Last night you were so rough with me I couldn’t even get to the bathroom on my own. Not that I’m complaining or anything.”

All he did was smirk at my comment and started slowly leaning down and grabbed my legs to pick me up. On instinct I wrapped my legs around his waist and he carried me to the bed and set me down. Only to slowly push me down and hover above me. Close enough for me to still feel his breath lightly on my lips before he spoke again.

“What if i'm gentle? As long as you listen I won’t be too rough. I promise.”

As he was speaking his hand was slowly sliding up my shirt. The warmth of his hand made me forget that I was supposed to be leaving with how addicting his touch is. 

“But, what if I want you to be rough with me again?”

Just as he was about to answer my question there was a knock at the door.

Hoseok let out a sigh and got off me and helped me stand up before leaving the room and walking to the front door. 

Hoseok POV

Walking to the door Hoseok started mumbling to himself.

“So close. Yet always so far.”

Looking out the peephole of his door to see who was at his door, he was surprised to see Jimin.

“Jimin? What are you doing here?”

“Oh hey Hyung, Yoongi hyung wanted me to stop by to see if your verse for….”

Jinim just stopped talking and was looking straight into my apartment with a confused look on his face so I followed his line of sight and saw he was looking at Y/n so I stepped in his way to get his attention.

“Yoongi hyung wanted my verse for which song Jimin?” 

Jimin looked back up at me with a questioning expression before he started talking again. Lower this time

“What is y/n doing here hyung? Don’t tell me you sunk your claws into another one.”

“First of all Jimin, if you must know. I have only slept with one other makeup artist and she told me she was ready for something she wasn’t ready for and it scared her away. It wasn’t my fault she was moving too fast for her own taste.”

Jimin just shook his head and let out a scoff 

“Hyung , no offense but i don’t think anyone will be ready for your “taste”, and she just got here 3 weeks ago. You couldn’t have waited to get to know the girl before getting your dick wet?”

Pinching the bridge of his nose Hoseok was starting to get annoyed with his younger band mate questioning his actions. As if he already didn’t know that he just met you.

“Jimin, just mind your own business will you? Noew what verse does Yoongi hyung want from me and I'll send it over.”

“He wants your verse for Home.”

“Great!! I will send it over in a minute. Bye Jimin.”

Closing the door in Jimin’s face he turned around to look at a very confused y/n. 

“What was Jimin here for?”

“Yoongi hyung wanted my verse for a new song we have coming out soon. That’s all.”

“Oh okay.”

“So, now that Jimin is gone why don’t we finish where we left off at?”

“Uhm. actually, maybe we should just hold off for a while. I should really go. I don’t wanna be late to work tomorrow.”

“Of course. Let’s get you home.”

Y/N POV

On the way back to my house Hoseok kept his hand on my thigh the whole ride. With light music playing quietly in the background as he drove. It was silent in the car but a good silent. 

Hoseok POV 

Glancing over at y/n I could see she was looking out the window just enjoying the music lighty playing in the car. Me, on the other hand, couldn’t stop thinking about what Jimin had said to me.

“Hyung , no offense but i don’t think anyone will be ready for your “taste”...” 

What if he was right? What if I'm not taking things slow like I think I am. What if her letting me handcuff her is as far as she will ever be willing to go. Then what am I gonna do?” Maybe I would be able to adjust my taste for her. But what if she likes it.

Before I noticed I was pulling up to her apartment. I quickly unbuckled my seat belt and went to her side to open the door. 

“Good Night Hoseok. See you tomorrow at work.”

“Yeah, see you tomorrow Y/n.”

Getting back in my car I watched her walk into her building before pulling off. 

“God what am I gonna do with her. What if she is just as innocent as she looks.”

[stonyiscanon]

Milkshakes (Bucky Barnes x Reader) CAFÉ AU

Notes: okay but busboy! Bucky makes me want to drown thank you very much. To the person who commented that I should do a Bucky fic, thanks lol, I hope I did okay, this is my first Bucky fic *cue gasp*

Warnings: angst if you squint, insecure! Bucky, oh no! a few bucks in the swear jar, SHITTY WRITING LET’S GO

Words: 4.0k

Summary: The evolution of Bucky’s relationship with you over time.

You come into this café Bucky works in every day. It’s only now that Bucky’s worked up the courage to take your order.  (The Avengers working in a café, that should be enough for you to read this.)

WE LOVE A GOOD STRANGERS TO BEST FRIENDS TO LOVERS TROPE

           Bucky clocks into Sugar & Spice, the café he’s been working at since he had started high school with his best friend and roommate Steve, every morning at 7:45, since they open at 8. Well, he’s really supposed to clock in at 7:30, but he can’t be bothered to wake up that early. So, when he comes in, all the staff are already getting ready for the day.

           Normally Clint and Thor are together doing something stupid, (Bucky doesn’t know how they’re not fired yet), whilst Steve frantically tries to fix whatever the hell they inevitably broke. (This morning, it was a kettle the staff uses to make tea.) Natasha is always calmly wiping down the counters, and it’s all accompanied by Tony screaming at them to do work with shitty café music playing, as Sam and Wanda sings terribly from the kitchen while cooking up their breakfast menu of the day.

           Even though he’d never admit it, Bucky loves this place and the dim yellow lighting everyone’s always complaining about. He takes a deep breath and smells the mixture of everyone’s morning coffee, Tony’s obnoxious cologne, and Sam’s infamous breakfast pancakes everyone came to the café for, and he smiles. He’s home, after all.

           That smile lasts for about three seconds before Bruce yells something about Bucky being late. So, he claps Steve on the back, hastily ties his apron on, and whizzes around the room, setting cutlery and jugs of water down, getting ready for the breakfast regulars.

           Every day at the café is pretty much the same. Everyone universally refers it as ‘The Cafe’, since everybody knows that Sugar & Spice is a dumb name. The morning goes by rather quickly, it’s his turn to deal with annoying customers every other day, pretty much all the same people come around, and the part-timers, Peter and Shuri, comes at around 3, by the time school ends for them.

           So Bucky knows exactly what he’s doing on the dot. By 8:30, the café is pretty much packed with early risers. Pepper, Tony’s wife, drops in for a break from her morning jog to say hi, and sometimes she’ll have a coffee, but she’s always out by 9. Stephen Strange and T’Challa are both morning regulars, and Bucky knows their order by heart, and he always has them ready before they even get to the café. They’re both lame as fuck anyway, getting black coffee, a plain croissant and reading the papers every morning.

           Why you would have a croissant without chocolate, Bucky will never understand.

           Around 10-ish, the people who drank too much last night will usually come in for Nat’s hangover cure in a cup. Except nobody really asks what’s in it, because nobody really wants to know. Bucky tries to ignore the fact that this café attracts a ton of alcoholics. Usually Peter Quill comes around now, more often than not because he got too drunk last night, and Thor always takes his order. (Just to spite him, since Peter clearly hates Thor for being perfect.)

           The rest of the day goes by really fast too, and before he knows it, Bucky’s saying his goodbyes at around 9pm, with Steve, and they both go home on their bikes.

           The only thing Bucky’s never sure about is you. You’ve been coming to the café for maybe around half a year now, sometimes just for a drink, a coffee in the morning. Sometimes you’ll drop by during lunch, grabbing a sandwich and running out quickly. Bucky doesn’t know why you leave so soon during lunch. Probably work. Sometimes you’ll drop by after a long day and you’ll have a drink with Nat. You don’t come with friends very often, but sometimes you do, bringing them along for dinner, usually.

           In the winter, you’ll come in shivering, bundled up in massive coats and scarves, and getting a hot chocolate. Every time that happens, Bucky physically swoons.

           No matter what, you always take a seat at the bar with the high chairs that are almost annoyingly too squeaky that everyone complains about, even though no one actually can be bothered to fix it. You’ll laugh with Nat, as she’s usually at the bar, preparing drinks, and Steve will often take your order. To be quite honest, Bucky pretty much knows nothing about you, but here are the things he does know.

           He knows your name is Y/N, since apparently, everyone else is pretty close with you. Guess that’s what happens when you come into a place daily for two years. He knows all your usual orders by heart, even though he’s never the one to take your order, since he’ll force Steve to do it every time. He knows you’re funny, sweet, kind and charming.

           He also knows that looking at you makes him act like he’s a fucking sixteen-year-old on prom night and he hates it. Whatever happened to the charming, sweet, womanizer Bucky Barnes? Down the fucking drain, that’s for sure. For two years, he’s tried to approach you and talk to you. And for two years, Steve has called him a coward. Bucky doesn’t know what washes over him when he sees you. He’s normally great with the ladies, if he does say so himself.

           But every time you come into the café, whether it be in the morning, afternoon, or night, his heart jumps and his mouth freezes and he can’t do anything but stare at you as all the other staff members greet you with a smile.

           He hates it so much.

           So, this morning, when he clocks in, and doesn’t hear his stupid friends freaking out as usual, he knows something’s up. Everyone grins at him like they know something he doesn’t and Bucky has to touch his forehead, wondering if they drew something on his face without him knowing again.

           “What is it?” He asks, looking at everyone suspiciously.

           “Guys, what did you do? I swear, if I go over to my apron to find that Tony drew dicks all over it, I will kill all of you in your sleep.” It’s kind of sad how no one reacted to what he said. Bucky decides that he probably threatens people too much.

           Everyone smiles at him again, going back to work, and in two seconds, the whole café is back to normal, topping it off with Sam screaming his horrible rendition of Marvin Gaye in the kitchen.

           They clearly had been talking about him before he came into the café. Boy, Bucky was really regretting sleeping in now. He marched over to Steve, and hissed in his ear.

           “What the fuck is going on? If this is a stupid prank I swear to God, Steve--”

           Steve smiles weirdly, and he sighs, saying, “Go back to work, Buck, you’re imagining things.” Steve is almost too much of a good person, and how bad he is at lying makes Bucky wince, because it’s way too obvious that he’s not telling the truth. The bead of sweat trailing down from his temple gives it all away.

           So Bucky sighs, deciding to torture the information out of his friends later, and get to work. Everything seems to be in order, and he almost forgets the events of that morning, all up until three o’ clock, when Shuri and Peter come in, and even they seem odd. Peter’s maniacally grinning about twice as much as he normally does, which is alarming, because nobody ever knew that lips had the capability to even stretch that far.

           At five forty-five, there’s a slight ring from the door that Bucky doesn’t notice. Everyone else does, though. Clint almost pushes Bucky to the front cashier, and yells out some sort of excuse that Bucky can’t hear and Clint speeds off into the kitchen. Steve runs to the staff bathroom, yelling something about really needing to go, and Nat almost flings the wet towel she was using onto the counter with the high chairs, and yells to Bucky that she needs a drink, and asks him whether he would clean up while she was gone.

           Begrudgingly, he agrees and extremely confused, he turns around to see which customer he had to seat only to see you standing there, bundled up in a scarf with a soft smile on your face.

           Oh, those fuckers.

           Swallowing his fear, Bucky attempted to speak up, you know, bring on the usual Barnes charm, but he probably looked more like a frog, opening his mouth like he was gaping.

           “Are you alright?” You asked, seemingly worried, because of course you are, Bucky thinks, how fucking adorable.

           “I don’t think I’ve spoken to you before, but I’m a regular here.” You smile, and introduce yourself. “I’m Y/N.” You peeked at his nametag, and smiled, holding out your hand.

           “Hi, James.”

           “Bucky.” He flashes a smile, hoping he doesn’t look as terrified as he is on the inside. “Call me Bucky, doll.” He reaches out and grabs your hand and almost melts. Damnit, how gorgeous. Yeah, that confidence didn’t last very long when you moved forward and sat at your usual spot, and Bucky tripped over his own feet following you.

           Shuri throws a towel at his face and gestures to the counter you were sitting at.

           ‘Clean.’ She mouths, and Bucky’s so very tempted to throw it back to her, but he stalks over to your chair and starts to wipe the countertop, awkwardly averting his eyes from you and the counter, thinking of all the ways he could kill his co-workers after this.

           “Are you new?” You ask, completely oblivious to how weird the Café was today. Bucky noticed though, and he glared at all his friends, who were hiding behind the kitchen door, spying on them.

           Bucky suddenly realized why Steve wanted to watch The Parent Trap yesterday night.

           “No, I’m not. I guess we’ve just never met before.” Bucky’s heart stops when you smile at him, and his body releases tension that he didn’t know he was holding in his muscles. Deep breaths, Buck. He thought to himself.

           He flashes a sharp smile at you as you look up from the menu.

           “Yeah, Probably. Nat or Steve usually takes my order, but I thought I knew everyone who worked here. You do seem familiar, though.”

           “Yeah,” Bucky says, with a nervous look on his face. “You seem familiar too.” He can almost hear the entire staff face-palming behind him, but he desperately attempts to ignore them.

           “What milkshake flavors are there? I’ve been coming here so long, for some reason I’ve never sat down and had a milkshake.” It takes Bucky a full five seconds for him to tear his eyes from your face and realize you had asked him a question.

           “Chocolate, vanilla, caramel and strawberry.”

           You groan, pouting a little bit, and Bucky can’t decide whether his heart just broke because of you showing any sign of sadness or just how goddamn adorable you were.

           “I can’t decide,” You say, still pouting. Bucky’s about to suggest Vanilla, since that’s his personal favorite, but you speak up again. “Is there any possible way you can just take all the milkshake flavors and put it in one cup with a straw?”

            Bucky breaks out a smile. He knew there was a reason he liked you so much.

           “Sure, doll. Is that it?” You nod, smiling at him. That smile. Bucky spent a minute behind the kitchen doors with a goofy smile on his face until Natasha slapped him and told him to get his shit together.

           “I guess we’ve just never met before” Tony says mockingly, popping out of nowhere and laughing his ass off. Sam shoots him a toothy grin.

           “Oh, yeah, doll. There’s that infamous Barnes charm, huh?”

           If Sam Wilson and Tony Stark ended up dead the next morning, Bucky definitely didn’t have anything to do with it. Peter Parker, a ‘literal angel child’ according to Tony, says something sweet about how you seemed really into him, but Bucky pays no attention to him. He’s more focused on how he’s so whipped for this girl he doesn’t even know, that a fucking fifteen-year-old is expressing sympathy towards him.

           He sighs, scooping a small scoop of every single ice cream the café had and dropping it in a blender. Maybe tomorrow he’d be less awkward.

           He didn’t get more comfortable the next day. Bucky actually somehow managed to trip over your shoes when you came in for lunch, and landed on Steve, also effectively covering himself in the spaghetti Steve was holding, all while Clint and Thor laughs their asses off about it as he’s wiping spaghetti away from his eyes.

           You giggle, but only for a second, as you help him up and pluck away a few pieces of spaghetti in his hair that was sticking out.

           “You’ve never looked better.” You tease, a playful smile gracing your lips.

           Bucky decides that being covered in spaghetti wasn’t the absolute worst thing after all. Well, until he finds out Tony filmed the whole thing and posted it on YouTube where it already accumulated over three thousand views before Bucky persuaded (read: forced) Tony to take it down.

           Bucky does, however, get more comfortable around you over time. The week after the spaghetti incident, he cracks some joke about Nat that he can’t even remember anymore. The only thing he remembered was how damn melodic your laugh sounded. Were those stars in your eyes?

           Jesus Christ, he was whipped. The entire café watched every single day as Bucky scrambled to take your order with that goofy smile on his face. You both exchange numbers after you complained that you only got to see him when you were at the café, and ever since, Bucky checks his phone periodically every 10 minutes, just in case you send something he doesn’t want to miss.

           You start traditions like every other Friday was a movie night, and every Tuesday was a takeout board game night. You slowly wormed your way into his life and Bucky would be a liar if he said he didn’t love it.

           “Bucky!” You squeal as he throws the leftover popcorn kernels from the bowl at you.

           “You asshole! I’m going to have to vacuum this later!” The long forgotten movie about a superhero named Eagle or something was playing in the background, but Bucky had already stopped paying attention to that a while ago.

           Watching you watch a movie was quite possible the most entertaining thing Bucky’s ever seen. Sometimes you would get so entranced, you’d shove popcorn in your mouth and miss, leaving some popcorn bits on your nose and the rest falling in your lap.

           Bucky smiles, and he doesn’t know it, but this was the start of your forever.

           “Oh my god,” Steve says in-between laughs and his seventh beer one night at some random bar they stumbled into.

           “You’re falling deep, Buck.” Even drunk Bucky, who had already consumed God knows how many cans of beer, tried to deny it.

           “Of course not!” He says, but Bucky has a sinking feeling in his gut and he can’t decide whether that’s a good or bad thing.

           He misses Steve and Nat exchanging knowing looks every time you come to sit down for another every-flavor milkshake. Over the span of the next half-year or so, you and Bucky chatting whilst you sipped on a colourful milkshake underneath the dim lighting became a regular in the café.

           Bucky remembers almost everything about your relationship. He was introduced to you as a stuttering mess and slowly became your best friend who crashed many nights at your apartment when Steve started dating Peggy. He calls you things like doll, or baby, or sweetheart, attempting to act like that’s normal for best friends to do, even though he knows damn well it’s weird. Sometimes he looks in your eyes, and he knows you feel the same feeling in your gut when you stare at him. He’s sure of it. But every time Bucky opens his mouth to say something, he freezes.  

           More often than not, some old lady would stop you in the streets, crooning about what a lovely couple you both were, and Bucky knows it’s definitely not normal for best friends to be acting like a couple.

           No matter how many times his friends urge him to ask her out, he always hesitates. The words ‘She doesn’t feel the same’ and ‘Just best friends’ would usually come out of his mouth. But in the end, Bucky’s just a coward. Whenever he tries to be the confident, normal guy around you something goes wrong.

           Because you make him feel like a person, and he’s so afraid of asking you out and ruining everything he’d rather than tear his own heart apart, so it doesn’t get broken by you. ‘She’s happier like this’, Bucky would think. But he’s not happy, and doesn’t he deserve to be happy too?

           Bucky doesn’t know why he’s always so willing to put himself in pain. He tries to ask you out almost fifty times before he just didn’t bother counting anymore. It’s not that he doesn’t like your friendship, this is possibly one of the happiest times in his life. And at the same time, he’s miserable.

           “Hey, doll?” He says, coming into your apartment with the spare key that you leant him.

           “Hello? Hey, if you’re in the bathroom, can I crash here for the night? I don’t even want to know what Steve and Peggy are up to in our apartment right now.” Bucky gets no answer, and he’s confused. It’s Wednesday night. Where could you possibly be? He sends you a quick text and he hears a slight ding coming from your dining room table. Your phone sits there, his text illuminating the screen. Wherever you went, you didn’t bring your phone with you. Bucky had a bad feeling.

           He’s about to have a breakdown when you come into the apartment, clearly puzzled.

           “Buck? Why are you here?” You say, your arms together holding a large package.

           “Oh, thank God. I came to stay the night, but you weren’t here, and you left your phone, I thought something must’ve happen- ” He stopped, noticing something.

           “Y/N? What’s that?” He asked, pointing to the large, colourful flowers wrapped up in your arms.

           ‘Oh!’ You say, seemingly glad that he asked.

           “Ryan from the next door gave me these. Aren’t they gorgeous? He’s a nice guy.” You say, humming about as you fished an old vase from the bottom of your sink.

           “That’s why I left my phone here. I just went over to pick these flowers up. You really shouldn’t worry so much, Buck. One of these days you’ll get a heart attack.” You’re softly singing as you fluff out the flowers and place them into the vase that’s filled with water.

           “Perfect.” You murmur, then you turned to him, throwing the TV remote and a pack of microwaveable popcorn at him.

           “Come on, old man., We’re going to watch Inception. I still can’t believe you haven’t watched it. It even won an Oscar for something I can’t remember.” Bucky stays behind in the kitchen for a bit, clutching at the bag of popcorn that was threatening to pop in his tense grip. He had a terrible feeling sinking deep in his chest as he looked at the flowers that you set on your kitchen countertop.

           “You don’t even like dahlias.” Bucky says, plopping down onto the sofa, hands full of popcorn. You frown, reaching out and grabbing a handful and stuffing it in your moth before saying,

           “Yeah, but it’s still sweet, isn’t it? Besides, how the fuck you know so much about flowers? Didn’t even know they were dahlias, I just remember telling you I don’t like the look of those big, poofy flowers.”

           “Yeah, but dahlias aren’t romantic. He should have gotten you roses, or beautiful lilies, or-” Bucky caught sight of your weirded-out look and thought he’d better shut up before you found out he liked spending time in a flower shop during middle school.  

           “Whatever. Never mind” He grumbled instead, ignoring the confused look on your face, and pressed play, beginning to watch what apparently was ‘Leonardo DiCaprio’s third best movie’ Obviously behind Titanic and Wolf of Wall Street.

           That terrible feeling remained in his chest.

           It’s 8:00 PM and Bucky’s about to clock out, he hangs up his apron, about to close up when you come over running, and for a moment he’s absolutely stunned you exercised willingly.

           “Are you guys closing up already?” You say, panting. Bucky wonders whether you ran all the way from your office to the café.

           “Ugh. My day went terribly. Can we go inside so I can rant? Actually, I’ll just tell you on the way to your apartment.” You’re rambling, and you look so cute bundled up in all your coats, facing the bitter Brooklyn cold. Bucky stares at you and he swears he fell in love in that moment. What was so special about it, he didn’t know. Looking at you, wrapped up in all your layers. You breathed out, smoke coming out from your lips from December’s freezing temperatures. You ran all the way from work, to tell him about the bad day you had, Bucky liked that he was the person you went to.

           “God, my lunch date was terrible, you were right, Ryan is a douche and I hate dahlias. I detest them. You were completely right, lunch dates are awful, and he’s a terrible person. I’m so sorry I didn’t listen, remind me to always do that. My boss was in a horrible mood and he must have-“

           Bucky steps towards you, and cuts you off, by placing his lips on yours. He can tell you’re taken back, but he’s so angry at himself for not doing this sooner, because kissing you must be the best thing he’s ever done in his entire life. Your hands are stopped midway, about to stop this madness, but then your frozen lips begin to melt and turn warm against Bucky’s.

          And before you know it, your hands are slowly sliding up to his hair, tangling your hands into his hair and his arms are wrapped around your waist. He kisses you passionately, none of you even seem to realise you’re in the middle of the street. Bucky was making out with you in the middle of Brooklyn, and he doesn’t give two shits about who was watching them. The end of the world could happen right now and he’d continue kissing you like his life depended on it. He feels you smiling into your kiss, and he feels downright giddy. You almost push against him, almost as if you’re making up for lost time.

          You bring your hands down and push his chest away, still processing what just happened. Bucky runs his thumb over your lip, and for a second he’s feels scared. Why did you push him away? Oh, shit, was I not supposed to do that? You smile, leaning into his touch and relief flushes into Bucky. You speak, so quiet Bucky barely hears you and your voice is hoarse.

           “Took you long enough, huh?” Your hand is placed on his cheek, and your hands are so cold Bucky’s surprised you haven’t gotten frostbite yet, but he doesn’t care. Bucky blinks, feeling something land on his head, and he laughs as he spots the small flecks of white landing on the ground.

           “As if this couldn’t get any more cliché,” He muses, whispering into your ear. “It’s snowing, doll, look.” You tear away from his body but he keeps one arm pressed against your waist as you walk home to your apartment. Boy, was Steve going to get a surprise when he woke up the next morning.

[lovebanqtan]

Min Yoongi As a Boyfriend

a/n= .angst warning a lot of fluff, NSFW

-He cares for you so much. But refuses to show it around the guys, and gets so flustered when little outbursts

-like maybe you fell asleep on his chest/lap (happens literally every week) and Hobi will point it out and cue the whole group aweing over you as he’s trying to keep them quiet so you can sleep. As he knows how hard you work, as does he.

-He is forgetful of how much he works, and when he comes home to a pissed off you on the point of tears.

-“Babygirl?” He asks. He drops off his laptop case on the counter and tries to stumble his way in the dark. He then hears it. Your quiet sobs coming from your bedroom.

-He’d try his best to comfort you. But he knew the reason you were crying was A) it was 4 am and you haven’t slept because he’s an asshole. B) you cooked him dinner but ended up inviting the guys over for it, as you had explained to him

-that night he had never felt like such a dick, and he promised to spend more time with you, instead of in the studio. 

-and he did. 

- did I mention how loving this boy is?

- Days that he has off, he spends it in bed with you at least till noon, wrapped around each other.

- If he is on tour he makes the local flower shop send you a different type of flower every day, with “I love you so very much.” In whatever country he is in language. 

- If you're having trouble with something, let's say you need to write a paper for work or college, and it's stressing you out? He got you. He will legit not mind if you eat your stress away in chocolates, he’ll even provide them. Or if you just need him to proofread it, he’ll give constructive criticism. 

“Babe, your tone sounds like your talking to an elementary schooler, and not a bunch of college kids. Maybe change it?” 

-When he is on tour, he’d make you a Spotify playlist of all the songs that remind him of you. And during facetime, he’d make you guess which one was his favorite and if you guessed correctly, he would sing it for you. Which most the time led to you crying.

-If you went out with your best friend, which he hated, but he not possessive like that, he would send a driver to wait for you and would have water and Tylenol for when you got home. Your favorite pajamas ready.

-You both had ups and downs. Sickness and in health right?

- When you were sick, oh my god was he freaking out. Especially when it was bad. Like the one time, you had pneumonia and was in the hospital, Namjoon was basically ordering him to go home and take a shower. He did, but he couldn’t get that image out of his head. The tube down your throat pumping the liquid out of your lungs and also forcing you to breathe. It had him fucked up. 

-The next day when you woke up choking on the tube, and when basically the doctors had to quickly remove it because you were choking on it so bad. Yoongi was teary-eyed and standing there breathing hard. 

- “You just get here or something?” Your voice gravely, you managed to choke out.

- He started to laugh so hard, he had to sit down. While you didn’t think it was funny because you couldn’t talk for the next week.

-You're barely depressed anymore, but god when it does come around. It comes around. And Yoongi knows. You won’t leave the bed for days except to work, and you won’t eat. He starts to get frustrated. Finally, he gives in.  He drags you to his studio, and your complaining all the way.

-“Yoongi, I really don’t need to go. I’m really tired also, why even bring me.”

-“You're a brick if you think I haven’t caught on. So I’m trying to cheer you up.”

- He flashes that famous gummy smile at you and you feel a little better. He didn’t succeed first try, you must admit. What really made you feel better, was cuddling on his couch in the dark as the soft piano playing in the background. And you felt safe. Safe from the demons inside your head, because your boyfriend's arms were wrapped tightly around you, as you had sobbed into his chest and told him everything that was going through your mind. 

-“Yoongi, I don’t even, I don’t know what to do anymore. It’s so bad. I just- I just want it to stop. Please make them stop.” You cried into his chest.

-“It's okay.” He shushed kissing your head. Rubbing circles on your back. “It's okay, I’ll make them go away. I’ll roast them and they’ll be too afraid to come back.” 

-“Yeah?” You asked.

-“Hey, demons!” He yelled turning his head away to face the ceiling so he wouldn’t hurt your ears. “What gives you the right to hurt my girl? If anything it should be my right to hurt you for hurting my girl! But your too much of a coward and hide inside of her pretty head!” 

-You laugh look at him. Smiling that gummy smile again. 

-“Finally. Mission accomplished.” 

-You spent the rest of the night like that, until like 9pm. When you got so hungry you were shaking and he ordered take in.

-Big question.

-How is he in bed?

-No question Yoongi is a dom. 5/7 will be kinky shit, but if you're stressed or something, he will literally just eat you out until your begging him and pushing him away. 

-“Want me to stop use your safeword. My job is to make sure my baby is not stressed out, however, if she doesn’t stop moving I’ll tie her down and continue my business.” He says as he pumps a finger in you and your legs twitch.

-Hella into cockwarming. In the studio, he’ll just have you sit on his lap while he’s inside you. And God forgives you if you fuck him trying to get yourself off.  

-“You want to get yourself off? huh? Tell me now, are you getting off?” He would ask as he held a vibrator on high against your clit and fucked hard into you. You screaming out his name. 

-He has a rule that if you don’t let him know when you cum, he’ll make you cum two times and you better let him know each time or that another 4

-If you hadn’t realized it, he loves overstimulating you and seeing the fucked out look on your face when you guys are done.

- he loves the next day when you're limping around and all the members look at him weirdly. or when one of the maknaes (specifically Tae) spot one of your hickeys because your shorts were too high, and Tae nearly dies on the spot because of how littered your thighs are. 

-he loves it when you beg. he will eat you out for hours, and look at you clenching around nothing, and finally, you will give in and beg. 

“Yoongi, please. please please I can’t take it anymore. Please fuck me.”

- when the deed is done he will cuddle you whispering how good you did into your hair. He’ll finally get up and go turn on the shower for both of you.

- But it took a while to get to this point don’t get me wrong.

- You had known him for a long time. You weren’t instantly like this. You had told him you loved him so many times, and he started to cry because he said, “I don’t want to get hurt.”

-Finally one night, he decided. You weren’t doing anything special, just playing Mario cart with Jungkook and Tae, and suddenly Yoongi walks up behind you and wraps his arms around your shoulders. 

-”Are you okay?” You ask him after asking Tae and Jungkook for a second. They hopped on their phones, nodding after pausing their screens.

- “I need to tell you something.” He smiles that famous gummy smile known to Armys internationally. 

-”What's up?” You ask worriedly. 

-He pulls you in and you swear you’ve never been happier at these words. 

-”I love you. I love you so much. And I know you won’t hurt me because you love me too, and I could hurt you just as bad and I love you and  I can’t live without you. And I’ve been dying to say these words for so long. But I was so afraid. I’m not anymore. I’m going to make up for a lost time, I promise. “ He says so slow and sweet into your ear, and you swore you heard his voice crack as if he was crying.

-“Your right, I couldn’t hurt you because you know I can’t live without you either genius. I love you too much to even say your dumb.” You laugh a little. And look up and see Taehyung and Jungkook filming the two of you.

- “Brats! Get back here or I’ll tell Jin to beat you both with his spoon!”

- Everything and I means everything has been different since then. 

- Of course, that's not how he asked you out.

- 2 years ago,  it was right after their  BTS Memories of 2017. And the members were celebrating a successful night.  Being Yoongi’s best friend, you had been invited too.  

-Yoongi was more than focused that night. Because he had an objective. He had liked you for a while, and he knew you liked him. He could see it, that admiration look. 

-That admiration looks that fans have, that he first recognized in you, and compared to fans at fan meetings. Its how he tells if their fake or not.

-You have had it since he first started talking to you. And he wonders why. But now he realized he has the same look for you because Namjoon calls it “heart eyes”

-As he walks up to you, Jungkook notices him. 

-“Ah, Noona I’ll give you and Hyung some time.” And Jungkook walks to the other side of the Restaurant where the rest of his hyungs are.

-You turn around to face a stern-faced, blonde yoongi. But also looks like a kitten at the same time? Kitten licks on your- shut up brain. You turn slightly red before talking.

-“Yeah? Whats up?” You ask him.

-“I need to talk to you...” He says lowly, eyeing the 95 liners whispering about him. “alone preferably.”

-“Okay, whatever you want.” You smile sheepishly at him, lowkey kind of drunk already.

-He grabs your wrist gently and drags you outside. 

-”y/n remember when you told me you liked me?” he says looking straight into your eyes.

-”Yeah. and you never gave me an answer.”

-” I’m giving you one now. I like you a lot. And I’d be really happy if you were to date me..”

Your eyes tear up and you look down. 

“Why are you crying?” He asks grabbing your face and pressing your foreheads together. Not caring the members are practically pressed against the windows trying to watch.

“I feel like, I’ve been waiting so long. And it been so cold. And I’m finally warm haha. That's the only way I can explain it. I’m just so happy. Yes, of course, I’d date you stupid.” You stutter out.

The beginning of your life with Yoongi started here.

[heyyyharry]

Halloween Special: Bugs and Hisses (Part 1)

(from the Flatmate!Harry Series)

…in which Harry and Y/N are invited to a Halloween party, but they don’t arrive together (first Halloween as flatmates).

This takes place somewhere after Hand in Hand, Harry and Y/N are not yet together. This chapter is a Halloween Special so it’s a bit long that’s why I split it into two parts! ;)

Warning: mention of smut and nothing else but fluff

So a bit of rambling here but I was watching Reign and there was this character called Olivia who had a sexual relationship with Queen Mary’s fiancé — Prince Francis. She came back after years away from him then plotted to break up him and Mary. I don’t know who wrote that tv series but we sure share a same piece of mind! Anyway, you may now proceed.

.

There’s only one week left until Halloween and Y/N has been waiting for that day from the first of October. Harry has been complaining about the creepy skeleton in their living room which an old neighbor left for them when she moved away. Y/N placed it there not only to give their flat some Halloween vibe but also to scare the kids who come trick-or-treating. However, all it’s done so far is scaring the shit out of Harry whenever he comes home late.

“I should carry around with me a piece of paper saying ‘Y/N did it’ in case I die from a heart attack someday,” he tells her as he walks out from the kitchen with his coffee mug and joins her on the sofa.

“How do you get scared every single time even though you know it’s fake?” She asks while scrolling through Netflix on her laptop.

Harry squints his eyes at her in response. “You know those Halloween movies where a character approaches a ghost thinking it’s either decoration or a man in a costume, only to find out it’s really a ghost? Yeah that’s not gonna be me.”

Y/N stares at her flatmate in disbelief for a couple seconds before shaking her head and telling him, “you know what? Sometimes you’re just weird.”

“Thank you, baby.” He grins and brings the mug to his lips. And despite knowing he’s only joking with the nickname, Y/N cannot help but smile to herself.

She’s had a crush on him for a while now. Ironically she used to think he would be the last person she would fall for, but here she is, heart-eyes for her annoying flatmate no matter what he does or says.

People may see Harry as a tough guy who’s hard to approach, she knows he cries watching The Notebook every single time. They assume he doesn’t care about anyone else but himself, she knows he keeps a photo of his mum and sister in his wallet. They think he’s all about parties and one-night-stands, she knows he likes candles and homemade meals and staying in with a book on a rainy day. But then again, she also knows, no matter how much she thinks she knows him, she’s never going to be the girl he ends up with.

“Have you heard of Alex’s Halloween party?” Harry asks, receiving a nod from Y/N.

“Yeah, I’ve been invited actually.”

“Wait, really?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, I didn’t know you were friends with Alex.”

“Why? Just because he’s popular?”

“No, because the guy’s a dick, and you’re—” Harry pauses then suddenly clears his throat and changes the subject, “anyway, are you coming?”

“No.”

“Why not?” Harry’s trying his best not to sound too disappointed, because he doesn’t want her to know he’s secretly wanting them to go together, not as a date, but kind of like a date.

“I promised Jamie I’d take him trick-or-treating that night.”

Harry raises an eyebrow at the girl. “Seriously? You’re going to babysit on Halloween? Where’s his mum?”

“She’s got a date.”

“You’re gonna sacrifice your night-out so our upstairs neighbor can go on a date?” He puts one hand on her shoulder and looking at her deep in the eyes, trying not to laugh. “Y/N, you’re not Halloween’s Santa Claus.”

Y/N shrugs his hand off her and rolls her eyes, resulting in a smirk on Harry’s face as he realizes she rolls her eyes at lot when talking to him. “I barely know anyone at the party. Alex only invited me because I helped him with his essay, and you don’t count because you never act like you know me in public.”

Harry breathes out a laugh as he hears her then rises from the sofa.

“Alright,” he says. “It’s your loss then.”

As Y/N shifts her attention back to her laptop screen, Harry brings his empty mug back to the kitchen, frowning when he turns away from her.

She wasn’t wrong when she said he never acted like he knew her, but that’s because he didn’t like her back then. Now, though he hates to admit it even to himself, he certainly likes her more than she may want him to.

...

Y/N suggests hiding their costumes from each other until Halloween night because she likes surprises. Harry doesn’t object to it but he hates that idea. He's dying to know what she’s going to wear because if she goes out wearing something too revealing, consider himself dead. It’s frustrating enough for him to get inappropriate thoughts about her once in a while, he doesn’t want to worry about others thinking about her the same way he does!

Well, lucky for him, Y/N chooses to stay true to who she is even on Halloween. When that night comes, she steps out from her bedroom in her costume, which is a long-sleeved, plain white dress, paired with a headband to which attached a halo made of feathers. Harry has never felt more relieved to see the safe length of the dress.

“Guess who I’m supposed to be!” She smiles cheerfully at him, putting her hands on her hips and playfully strikes a pose for her flatmate to get a better look of her appearance.

"A ghost?” Harry chuckles and Y/N huffs at his response. 

“An angel! There’s literally a fake halo above my head!”

“Then where are your wings?” 

“This is a low budget costume, I can’t afford a pair of wings.” 

The way Y/N’s squinting her eyes at Harry makes his smile grow a little too big. She’s so adorable, so precious that he wants to comment something cheesy like ‘with or without all this, you’re still an angel’, but since they’re barely friends, he can’t say weird stuff like that, can he?

“What are you supposed to be?” she finally asks, gawking at him from head to toes. 

He just looks so damn good in that white shirt with the suspenders and corduroy pants, and she also likes how his hair is all pushed back. It doesn’t matter who he’s dressed as, she’s already melting.

“Jack Dawson from Titanic,” Harry answers with a smug on his face. “I’ve been told I resemble young Leo.”

“How could they disrespect Leo like that?” Y/N scoffs, making Harry drop his jaw.

“Angels don’t mock their flatmates every chance they get! No wonder you’ve got no wings!”

“You deserved it for calling me a ghost!” Y/N flips her hair in a playful way, resulting a smirk upon Harry’s lips as she grabs her bag and heads to the door. “I gotta go now. Shouldn’t you already be on your way to the party?”

“I’m waiting for a friend.”

“Oh you’re going with Niall?”

“Uh...yeah, Niall.” He presses his lips into a small smile, already regretting agreeing to go with this girl Niall set him up with, but his flatmate does not need to know.

“Okay, have fun then!” Y/N opens the door and waves at him before she leaves. “And bring your key please! If you come home at 2AM and bang on the door, I’ll let you sleep in the hallway!”

“You will never get your wings with that attitude!” Harry shouts out, then quickly catches a glimpse of a secret smile on her face before the door is shut between them. That smile alone can keep him grinning at the entrance like an idiot, even a moment after she’s already gone.

...

“Thank you for looking after Jamie, Y/N.”

“No biggie.” Y/N smiles as she returns the little boy back to his mum then checks the watch on her wrist, it’s now 9PM, still too early for her to call it a night but already too late for her trick-or-treat companion. Jamie says goodbye to his babysitter then listens to his mum and goes to his room to change.

"How’s your date?” Y/N asks the young mum after his son’s left. She cannot help but stare at this woman’s sexy nurse costume, which is quite PG-13 for her six-year-old son, Y/N thinks to herself, but she won’t say that out loud of course.

“He was hot until he opened his mouth.” The woman rolls her eyes and leans a shoulder against the door. “Where’s your boyfriend?”

“Boyfriend?”

“The boy you brought here? The one you were handcuffed to?”

“Oh.” Y/N breathes out a laugh, and for some reason doesn’t bother to correct the lady’s false assumption. “He’s out with his friends.”

“And left you on your own on Halloween night when everyone out there is having sex?!”

Y/N immediately lowers her voice just in case Jamie can hear them. “Everyone’s having sex on Halloween night?”

“People tend to have lots of sex on special occasions, like New Year’s Eve, Christmas, Valentine’s Day, Easter...”

Y/N widens her eyes.

“Aaaanyway, go get your man if you don’t want him to stick his dick in a random hole like my ex-husband did! That son of a bitch!” The young mum looks at the ceiling and heaves a sigh before turning back to the girl. “But make sure you’ve got the key before using those handcuffs again. Safety first, young lady!”

Y/N has to hold back her laughter as she thanks her upstairs neighbor for the ‘useful’ advice before heading back to the lift. Suddenly, a soft little voice stops her immediately.

“Y/N! Wait!”

Jamie runs past his mother toward Y/N, carrying his trick-or-treat bag. The boy hands it to her with both hands with a lovely smile on his face as he says, “here, have some more of my sweets!” 

The offer catches Y/N by surprise, she shakes her head fast. “No, no, you keep them all, I’ve got a bunch already, remember?”

“These aren’t all for you. Share them with Harry!”

“You remember Harry?” Y/N giggles as she accepts the bag from the kid who nods his head.

“Yeah and I miss him. You should bring him here next time and we can play good cop, bad cop again!” Jamie bounces on his feet and swings his arms in excitement. So as not to disappoint the boy, Y/N gives him her word, that she’ll bring Harry the next time she comes over to babysit him. 

“Wait, wait, there’s a card inside too! Open it!”

“A card?” Y/N chuckles as she searches through the bag and finds a colorful Halloween card, inside of which are a few simple words written in a six-year-old’s messy handwriting.

Happy Halloween! 

Bugs and Hisses, Jamie.

“Aww, thank you, J! I love this a lot, and I’m sure Harry will too!” Y/N replies and bends down to kiss the boy on the forehead, telling him goodnight, and also goodbye.

Now Y/N hopes she can make it on time to see her flatmate before Halloween is over and before Harry ends up in the warm bed of another girl.

...

Y/N takes an Uber to Alex’s place, which is a bit far from where she lives. It takes more than a fourty-five-minute drive to get there, all for this boy she likes so much who probably doesn’t even consider her as his friend! Thinking about that makes Y/N feel so stupid. 

Does she regret it? Yes. 

Does she still want to go? Definitely!

Normally she never shows up alone at a loud and crowded place, to be surrounded by people she doesn’t know. Call her boring or whatsoever, but she would prefer to stay in her comfort zone. That is why the moment Y/N opens the door to Alex’s flat, and is greeted by the deafening music and a room packed with sweaty and drunk people, her whole body stiffens all at once. 

It’s still not too late to walk out and go home then finish her night curled up in her bed enjoying a horror movies marathon. However, that’s not the option she’s going for tonight. She chooses to enter instead, pushing her way through the crowd to search for a familiar face and figure.

Then, she finds him at last. 

He’s just not alone.

Harry’s standing in the corner, pressing up against a girl in a tiny leopard print dress. His mouth is attached to hers, his eyes are closed as he’s enjoying the heated kiss like nothing else matters. The way his fingers dance across the skin of the girl’s thighs make Y/N feel so uncomfortable. 

She turns away, but she doesn’t want to leave. She would just be sad on the quiet drive back home so she might as well just be sad now in a room surrounded by other people and plenty of alcohol.

Y/N marches the counter at the back of the room where they keep the liquor then pours herself a glass, then stands with her back against the wall, watching drunk people making out, dancing like lunatics, and doing things they’re sure gonna regret when the morning comes. Then she feels thankful she’s not one of them.

“Well, well, well, looks who’s here!”

It’s going to be a lie if she says she’s not happy to hear his voice, but considering what she’s seen back there, Y/N does not wish to look at Harry’s face at the moment.

“Came all the way here for trick-or-treating?” he jokes and comes to stand beside her, leaning his back against the wall as well.

She just scoffs without looking at him. “Why are you here talking to me?”

“Because you’re standing alone? I deserve a thank you.”

She doesn’t reply. Harry starts to feel something is off because there’s only one explanation for her to act so coldly toward him and that is — he must have done something wrong.

“I thought you weren’t coming,” he says to her.

“I thought you came with Niall.” She shrugs and turns to look at him at last. “Who’s your date?”

“I don’t have a date.”

“You were sucking on her tongue a minute ago?”

“What? Are you jealous or something?”

“You wish!” Y/N snorts and crosses her arms in front of her chest, the thing she always does whenever she gets defensive. “I came because you sounded like you wanted me to. But here I am, alone at the back of the room as I expected.”

“I’m here with you now, aren’t I?” He playfully nudges her with his elbow but her expression stays unpleasant. “She’s not my date, I don’t even know her name!”

“Hey Harry!” Niall suddenly approaches the flatmates and he looks so stunned to see Y/N as well. “Why is Y/N here? I thought you came with Clarissa?”

“Ooooh, right, her name is Clarissa! See? I can’t even remember her name!” Harry fakes a nervous laugh but Y/N is not very amused with his lie. She brings the glass to her lips and gulps down the alcohol like it’s the only thing that keeps her sane at the moment. Niall and Harry exchange looks, neither dares to say a single word.

Then comes another one of Harry’s friends whom Y/N does not know, but let’s be real, Harry is probably friends with most of the people here.

“Hey guys, the party’s getting boring, let’s go!” the guy says in delight as he rubs his palms together. “Trix is sick, she cannot join us now we need another person.”

“Louis, how about Harry’s girlfriend?” Niall speaks up as he grabs Y/N by the arms and pushes her forward, toward this Louis guy. The seemingly older boy stares at the girl then his friend Harry, his eyes full of doubt.

“This is your girlfriend, Harold?”

“No!” Harry and Y/N deny at the same time.

“Okay then...” Louis squints his eyes and looks at Niall who secretly gives him a nod to confirm Harry’s and Y/N’s non-existent romantic relationship, as a result receives a death glare from Harry.

“Alright so now there are six of you, perfect, let’s go!” Louis says and turns to leave but Y/N’s hesitation stops him.

“Wait, go where?!” Is everybody here high or something? She thinks to herself.

“Wait for us in the car, I’ll explain it to her,” Harry tells his two friends, who agree and walk away to leave him behind with his bewildered flatmate. 

“Harry, what’s going on?”

“Nothing, it’s just a fun Halloween tradition our group came up with for Halloween.”

“Oh my God!” Y/N covers her mouth to hold back a loud gasp as she gazes at him with cow eyes. “Are...Are you in a cult?!”

“What?” Harry laughs quietly. He has a love/hate relationship with Y/N’s worst assumptions whenever she freaks out. “No, Y/N, we’re not.”

The answer makes Y/N sigh in relief and Harry can only think about how much he wants to kiss her because she looks so cute under this lighting. Still he has to shake off that thought, now is the least appropriate.

“Last year Niall suggested that it would be fun to do something scary on Halloween, so he came up with the idea that one person would dare the rest of us to do a challenge and the winner or winners would receive a prize from the host. Last year Niall made us do a scavenger hunt in a cemetery. This year it’s Louis’ turn to come up with the challenge. Don’t worry, love, it’s all safe.”

“What is the challenge this year?”

“I don’t know, you have to get to the destination to find out.”

“Then how do you know it’s safe?!”

“It is! Trust me,” Harry chuckles and reaches out to grab her hand. “I’m not going to let anything bad happen to you. You’ve got to trust me.”

His voice sounds so soothing, it makes her wonder if he really does care about her or he just wants her participation in this because they’re missing one member, either way, it works. She cannot say no when he’s giving her that look and holding her hand so gently.

Eventually, Y/N nods her head, receiving a smile from her flatmate in return.

“If I die tonight, I’ll become a ghost and haunt you for the rest of your life.”

Her warning leaves a grin on his face. “Good. You’re already dressed like a ghost.”

“You must think you’re funny but you’re not.” Y/N glares at him as they head to the front door. 

She’s too worried about this game with his group of friends to notice that he’s still holding her hand. Harry, on the other note, is well aware of that, still he’s very much enjoying it, and he just can’t wait to show her the real fun of Halloween.

PART 2

[eloiseishere]

Studio Ghibli, as a person who is half Japanese(my dad’s Japanese) and grew up here is just something that’s so nostalgic to me. It reminds me of the late nights where I’m not busy with anything, but mostly the late nights spent with my dad and a bowl of popcorn we lowkey burnt when I was small.

My dad is not the most physically affectionate person(he’s also lowkey verbally abusive— he thinks its quirky-kooky to yell at people for the simplest of mistakes, which is the sole reason for why I love him but also hate him), but his affection is definitely there. Japanese people are just not that affectionate in general, lowkey a taboo to even say “I love you”. But I digress— the one thing that I feel like my dad loved while I was growing up(and I hope still do) was spending time with me over our shared interests. We both love our silence, Ghibli and Lupin III, poli-sci, animals, and cars.

The one thing that I vividly remember was when my dad and I used to go to the local grocery store that had a DVD rental place. We go there pretty often, and he does the thing that every other dads seem to do, which is download it illegally onto a blank DVD for later use…

Then there was this week where my mum got hospitalized due to severe stomach pain(it was something that was headed to cancer but avoided because we got in early) and I couldn’t sleep at the hospital with her. An important detail here is that I had attachment issues when I was younger— meaning that I couldn’t sleep without my mum in my proximity, or I would completely just breakdown into sobs. So, having to go home because the hospital didn’t allow me to sleep there was agony to young Eloise. Knowing this, my dad made a deal with me. He’d rent me movies and we’ll buy popcorn and various snacks and eat them if I were to remind myself that I will see my mum again in the morning and that everything would be fine. My child brain was very easily persuaded, we did just that— My dad drove us to the store and we rented three Ghibli movies a night and buy microwaveable popcorn. Then, we’d go home, watch the movies while we ate the popcorn until I fell asleep.

He wanted me to get used to the feel of sleeping on my own, so he’d carry me to my mum’s bed. But I’d wake up cuz I didn’t feel my mum or anyone at all beside me. So I’d go to his room. I remember just standing at the doorway until he feels my presence lmao. But the wholesome thing about it was that he didn’t complain when he saw me, and told me to go back to bed— he just lifted the futon he was under and let me in to fall asleep until we could wake up and go to the hospital again.

A few years later(I was still young tho), my mum and I went to the Philippines for her work, and I feel like I just completely forgot about him. Which is SO sad to me cuz when I went back three years later, we were both so distant towards each other. I may have forgotten how it felt like to spend time with him and how to speak Japanese for a while, but he never forgot that part about me, how I’d cry until I fell asleep cuz my mum wasn’t in the same building.

At that time, my mum had started taking night shifts, which meant that she worked from 9PM to 5AM. I’d cry for her not to go, and he just kinda listens from the other room, not wanting to interfere with me and my mum. Ofc, she goes, she has to work. But this time, there’s no compromise between my Father and I. Just silence, and the knowledge that he’s right in the next room. I started to notice his light being on until some time had passed when I turned my lights off. And I realize now that he stays awake until I fall asleep so that if I were to need comfort cuz my mum isn’t there, he’d be there to stay with me until I fell asleep. Now I’m crying cuz it’s so wholesome… We moved to a bigger place, and he STILL does that. He checks on me one last time before I hear the beep of his light indicating that he’s about to sleep. When he sees me awake cuz of school work or just up for some projects, he’ll ask if I’ll be okay and to sleep soon before he walks back to his room and sleep.

And just- anyway. This got long, sorry. It just feels bittersweet, cuz I have a love-hate relationship with my Father, and it is killing me cuz I love those small portions of him where he randomly invites me to go to the city, or the mall, or Home Depot just to get me out of the house, or buy me random shit cuz he thought it was interesting and thought I’d find it interesting(which I do, we’re both 5 at heart and find the smallest things amusing). This is basically just me being a Father’s Offspring, or Daddy’s girl, or whatever. I’m getting delirious cuz I’ve been sleep deprived, if you made it this far, thank you for reading along, goodnight, luvs💕

STUDIO GHIBLI + AUTUMN 🍂🍃🍁

The Secret World of Arrietty (2010) Spirited Away (2001) Only Yesterday (1991) My Neighbor Totoro (1988) The Tale of The Princess Kaguya (2013) Ponyo on the Cliff by the Sea (2008) Kiki’s Delivery Service (1989) The Wind Rises (2013)

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

[terresdebrume]

The space between

Fandom: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (Movie) Series: Sequel to Rakuen Rating: General audiences Wordcount: 2 191 words Pairing(s): Napollya Character(s): Napoleon Solo, Illya Kuryakin. Genre: Sometimes things are better when they’re not what they’re supposed to be. Trigger warning(s): None that I’m aware of. Summary: Solo can’t possibly understand what it’s like for a werewolf to be stuck in one for for years and years, but he suggested a wolf holiday anyway. Somehow, what Illya gets from it goes beyond what he expected. Note(s): Here, have an unexpected sequel (to a fic I completely forgot to crosspost here from AO3) that goes in an unexpected direction. Honestly, I wrote all of it in two days between 9pm and 2am: I have no idea anymore.

The wolf emerges, floating from a dream into the soft warmth of wakefulness. Familiar smells blanket him, shooing the rest of the world away even as something lumbers on hard wood somewhere in the distance. The ground is soft under it, something not-quite-sheep anymore weighing pleasantly on its shoulder. The wolf finds something not-quite-plant under its snout, pulls it closer with its teeth, and sinks into the thing’s faint smell of oily product with a contented sigh.

Darkness comes to it so softly he doesn’t remember greeting it at all.

***

It opens its eyes to the rich brown of fallen trees, ground as soft beneath it as it ever was. The smell of pine wood and winter-cold clinging to spring fills its nostrils, and he breathes in when he realizes something is rubbing against his stomach, steady and firm over the curve of his rib cage. The once-sheep-fur thing is gone, but the air glows warm with firelight, and when the wolf looks away away from the wood overhead—just shy of seeing his own body—the pink mountain on two legs rubs at his lips with its strange pink paw.

It is cold with snow, still, and it shies away when he tries to lick it in greetings, but the pink mountain rumbles, and pushes Illya back until it can resume the belly rub. Illya knows better than to complain, by now, the wolf too thoroughly addicted by the easy closeness of human hands to go back to its solitude without a fight.

Besides, after a year, even the mountain grew used to it enough to stop teasing.

They stay like this for a while, long enough for the light to go from mid-morning to early afternoon, Illya luxuriating in the easy physical affection until Cowboy asks:

“Water?”

It takes Illya some effort to manage a real nod, content as he is to remain in the hazy limbo between wolf and man now that he has someone who can be trusted with it again. He lets Cowboy prop him up for a drink, paws still too clumsy to maneuver a—a—thing for drinking, and yawns hard enough to make his jaw crack as he is lowered down on soft—on the mattress.

“Thank you,”” Illya says after some mental preparation.

“I like wolf you,” Cowboy says even as he takes the glass away again. “He’s polite.”

Illya grunts in protest and flops back onto the mattress, cheek landing just shy of Napoleon’s knee. He can feel the heat of him on his skin, smell the remnants of his usual cologne and last week’s Brylcreem through the unusual roughness of sturdy pants and a thick sweater over a flannel shirt. Outside, the pines are close enough to fill even human nostrils, and the lingering wolf still manages to pick up on the clean chill of Lake Superior, off to the East. Birds haven’t come back from their yearly migrations yet, and things that sleep through the winter won’t quite awaken until April, and the hush of it makes it feel like there is nothing in this world but Illya on a soft bed, with fire warming him up and Napoleon’s hand rubbing at his belly like he’s sporting fur and four legs and a tail.

It’s a wonderful thought, and Illya takes the time to savor it before he speaks.

“I’ve never asked—”

Illya’s sentence dissolves into another yawn, and Napoleon is far too consummate a pretender to allow his fingers to clench around the thick wool of Illya’s jumper, but his hand does come to a stop, just under Illya’s heart. Around them the air tenses, just enough to send a prickle of warning racing along Illya’s spine

He gives it a moment’s consideration—a heartbeat, if that—but he always did prefer tackling things head on, and his relationship with Napoleon, working or otherwise, has always been built on leaps of faith anyway.

“I never asked,” he starts again, voice breaking the quiet like a lone walker on freshly fallen snow, “how you knew what to do. When I came back. First time.”

Napoleon’s hand shudders, just the once and then it resumes its rubbing motion in a way that only feels stiff because Illya has been waking up to the gesture two times a weeks for the past six months and, at Napoleon’s insistence, every morning since they got to this modest but comfortable cabin in the northernmost parts of Minnesota.

“Well,” Napoleon says, practiced nonchalance too thin hide the tension in his words without the polished back up of high-quality suits and carefully arranged hair, “I do know a thing or two about dogs.”

Illya foregoes the habitual, playful swat at Napoleon’s shoulder in favor of a steady glare. It must appear lopsided, laid out as Illya is by Napoleon’s side, head level to the man’s stretched out knee...it does get Illya’s point across, though, and Napoleon’s features flicker into a self-deprecating smirk before he turns to look at the window to his left, away from Illya.

His hand doesn’t stop moving, though, and Illya sinks into the gesture the way he would lean into his father’s welcoming licks on his snout after a run; the way he’s rub his nose against his mother’s lips for hours on end as a child until she caved to the demands of human society and forbade him the gesture when he was not a wolf. His father left soon after that and, for the longest time, nothing of the wolf could be allowed to linger in Illya’s human life...then came Berlin and the smell of too many women mixing together over Brylcreem and sharp cologne. An amused rumble that so rarely allows itself to become a laugh. A pair of blue eyes, concerned but unafraid as its owner asked how Illya felt after turning back.

Illya squirms on the bed until his cheek touches Napoleon’s knee, eyes at precisely the right angle for the fading light to line Napoleon’s face with silver.

“You know dogs,” Illya prompts, unsurprised when Napoleon tries his very best to make his hum noncommittal.

It doesn’t quite meet the mark, but falls close enough to it to make Illya shiver with the sudden chill of it, the abrupt bone-cold of unexpected ghosts that makes up so many of his and Napoleon’s friendship. It isn’t the first time they have reared their heads at such a simple question: Illya has a graveyard in its chest but it knows its place. Napoleon’s ghost seem to hover all around, and take some sort of sadistic pleasure in catching at his heart at the most innocuous inquiries.

“We always had many of them,” Napoleon tells the window at last, “half a dozen, at any given time.”

An image bursts to life in Illya’s mind: Napoleon, shorter and much narrower in the shoulders, thrones on an elegant baroque couch, Darya Kuryakin’s favorite carpet absorbing the sound of six borzoi determined to grab a piece of their master’s attention. Napoleon, Illya must admit, has always seemed more like a cat person to him.

“You had good relationship with them?”

“They weren’t supposed to be pets.”

Napoleon shrugs, far too brittle for comfort and Illya has to restrain himself from pressing his cheek harder against the man’s knee, for fear of making him flee if he realizes just how much of him Illya has become able to see.

The conspicuous absence of the man’s suit is, after all, almost as much of a delight as the 'wolf’ part of what Napoleon insisted on naming ‘their first annual wolf holiday’.

“They weren’t supposed to be pets,” Illya says, once silence has had time to settle between them, careful not to put emphasis on any given word, even though he knows Napoleon must hear it anyway.

“I was lonely,” Napoleon tells the window, fingers coming to a halt on Illya’s ribs again. Then, non-sequitur: “one of the bitches had a litter with a wolf.”

In his mind, the landscape outside of young Napoleon’s window changes from a generic city  to an equally generic forest, albeit one with quite a lot of pine trees. The borzois are gone, replaced with sturdy, thick-pawed mutts running in a large garden.

“There was a run,” Napoleon continues. “Not sure why it’d been cast aside, but it would have been a pity to lose that kind of protection for the house.”

“You think five half-wolves are not enough to scare burglars?”

Overhead, Napoleon blinks and look back at Illya, as if remembering he is was even here to being with.

“Burglars?”

“You were too poor to steal from?” Illya asks before he can think better of it.

Napoleon doesn’t gape, far too well trained for that, but even he hasn’t mustered enough control on his body to prevent the slow, crimson creep of a blush up his neck and onto his cheeks. He turns away again, ears flushed even redder, before he mutters:

“I think even amateur burglars had more sense than to come and look all the way here.”

Illya, while not as practiced as Napoleon in the art of deception, is also a trained spy and so he does not gape. He does, however look around the room again as the image of young Napoleon, in his mind, flops on the very bed they are using now, shirt pulled out of thick winter pants, and is joined by a creature that looks far too much like the photographs Illya’s mother used to take, sometimes, when he stayed out later than she did in later years.

A minute passes, maybe five, while Illya digests the revelation, warmth flooding through his vein like a bath drawn at the end of an exhausting winter day, prickling at every frozen extremity of him until he can do nothing but swallow, shift under Napoleon’s hand, and let his head rest on Napoleon’s knee.

The wolf has gone back to sleep by now, and the proximity turns Illya’s throat dry but Napoleon doesn’t seem to notice or, if he does, to mind.

“An outcast, hm?” Illya prompts, quieter than even he expected to be.

Relief expands in his chest when Napoleon huffs.

“I was the only one with the kind of time it takes to nurse a dog. So, I did.”

A pause, thin and brittle, and Illya is all but holding his breath by the time Napoleon speaks again, barely above a whisper:

“The others wouldn’t teach him how to be a dog. So I watched. I taught him. Eventually, he integrated.”

There is a cold spot on Illya’s rib cage, Napoleon’s jaw tightening even as Illya sits up until his right shoulder bump into Napoleon’s. They sit close enough together for Illya to feel even the slightest shift in Napoleon’s posture, the care he puts into not stiffening, not breathing too fast, not sighing. He does close his eyes, but even then, only with reluctance.

Illya watches him; thinks of the lunches he shares with agents who aren’t Napoleon or Gaby now, in U.N.C.L.E.’s canteen. None of them are connections he made through his American friend, but none of whom would have approached him if not for the tangible proof that once could tease Illya Kuryakin and live to tell the tale.

“He didn’t forget you.”

It isn’t a question, but Napoleon answers it anyway, head turning so he can look straight ahead of himself. Illya watches the glow of the firelight turn the bridge of his nose to gold and is not, in the end, surprised by how beautiful he finds it—ridiculous butt shape and all.

“No,” Napoleon says. “He got shot because of me, too.”

He breathes in when Illya’s fingers close around his wrist, shoulders tensing again as if to run away, but Napoleon Solo doesn’t run. He didn’t run away from a giant with more fighting training than him in a public restroom of West Berlin, didn’t run away from the world after who knows how long in and electric chair in Rome, didn’t run away from anything they have encountered in the past two years of working together.

Illya has been present through enough of Napoleon’s not-running, by now, that pressing their shoulders a little closer together fills him with the relief of taking necessary but long overdue action.

“It’s okay,” Napoleon says, trying for nonchalance and mostly just managing to hit ‘strained’, “he wasn’t a pet.”

“No,” Illya confirms.

Then, emboldened by the turmoil of emotions swirling in Napoleon’s eyes when he turns to look at him, Illya adds:

“Neither am I.”

This time, it’s Napoleon who increases the pressure between their shoulders, Illya’s rifle wound from Japan an ache barely loud enough to register through the blood rushing in Illya’s ears, the delicious sting of his own breathing, caught in his lungs for too long.

“No,” Napoleon says, breath ghosting over Illya’s lips, “most definitely not.”

The wolf has gone to sleep, and soon Illya and Napoleon will have to return to the world of men, but it doesn’t matter.

Here, in the space between, they will always be free.

[commonhooker]

i just woke up from a nap so story time: the woman who lives below us is an actual insane person

the first thing she did when we moved in in november (we officially moved in in december but we got the keys to move our furniture a few days prior) was to tell us that we need to clean the stairwell on our designated friday (3 week rotation), and she was upset we hadn’t on november 30th, which was a friday

first of all we weren’t technically moved in then, and second of all the rules hadn’t been clear because we’d seen her clean monday, and figured, oh, maybe it’s just a ‘‘during the week when it’s needed but it doesn’t HAVE to be friday if it doesn’t look bad’‘ thing. but whatever, we just told her sorry, we just moved in, but we would make sure to remember in the future

over the next few weeks she just complained at us for very basic shit, such as ‘‘don’t forget to close the door to the laundry’‘ even tho we literally had locked the door EVERY time we’d been there, she didn’t even have anything to complain abt

then one evening around 10:30pm in december, my boyfriend accidentally drops something on the floor, and she goes fucking feral on us saying we ‘‘stomp the floor repeatedly’’ and her son needs to sleep (he’s a teenager for reference). my boyfriend ends up just telling her we’re busy and closes the door because she just keeps going and is seemingly only interested in bitching and not in having a constructive conversation

so months go by, it’s now march, and this whole time we’ve lived basically above a club. even before she got all pissed off with us, she would play music all day long and it’s so loud it SHAKES our apartment - she has even broken house rules on several occasions and played after 9pm on weekdays (which i have recorded on multiple occasions) and in weekends way into the night.

now don’t get me wrong, people are allowed to play music! but my god, we literally live above a club, and this is without exception every fucking weekend, and every day of the week. she doesn’t seem to have a problem with it because she’s a bum who doesn’t work, but other people get up in the morning and like, do shit with their day

what a concept ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

fast forward to last night, friday. we get home around 9pm after having celebrated my cats birthday at my moms place (dont come for me i love him and he deserves it and hes a big boy), and decide to go to bed around 11pm because we’re exhausted from school and work. around 1:30am we’re woken up, not just by music, but by what feels like the fucking armageddon approaching. now i’m a light sleeper, but my boyfriend can sleep through almost anything, and even he woke up from it

we waited to see if she just needed to get this one song off her chest, but alas, she kept going, and eventually my boyfriend went downstairs to confront her and tell her it’s nearly 2am and time to turn off the music. now not only is she physically threatening (like she was all fists), but she screams at him that it’s okay because ‘‘she has a son and we’re alone’‘ (presumably she means we don’t have kids), and that when he needs to sleep at night, we stomp around in our apartment. i recorded all this for the sake of later confrontation, and thank god my half asleep dumbass thought of that

but we were both so fucking confused tho, because first of all we both go to bed pretty early normally because we need to get up early, and even if we stay up late, we sit at our computer, which doesn’t require much stomping ... so unless she thinks we can’t walk around in our own apartment, i don’t know what her complaint was. but i went back to check the ad and nowhere does it say you’re required to levitate to rent the apartment, phew

so anyway after this, she’s still going feral and insulting my boyfriend, calling him sick (she didn’t explain why, i think it was just her best insult lmao), and ending abruptly by saying ‘‘fuck you’‘ and slamming the door in his face. at this point we’d warned her we’d be in contact with the landlord.

so i write him, despite it being 2 in the morning, letting him know i’m incredibly sorry for writing so late, but we’re so fucking done at this point. he replies back almost immediately saying he wrote her (presumably to turn off the music), and that we should talk at a better time. and tbh kudos to him for replying so fucking late, on the weekend nonetheless

ANYWAY, this bitch keeps playing her insanely loud music, and even with earplugs it’s completely impossible to sleep. we decided that since we couldn’t sleep, we’d just stay up and talk (luckily none of us had work today) until she stopped, and then just let the landlord know in the morning how long she kept playing. oh but were we fools, because i can now report that it is nearly 5pm, and she is still playing music, and has not stopped since 1:30 this morning

we were smart enough to record just how loud it was with regular intervals during the night, tho. but anyway i write the landlord at 7am letting him know we were thankful for him trying, but it hadn’t helped, and she was still playing music, and had been all night, resulting in very little to no sleep. he’s sorry to hear and says he’ll talk to her later the same day, and will get a lawyer involved monday (i was like a child on christmas).

he sent me a text again right before i basically passed out from being tired, saying he had just tried to knock on her door, and despite multiple attempts she hadn’t responded, but he could hear her music loud and clear. he also said he’d left a note for her, encouraging better behaviour, and saying that if her shenanigans don’t stop, she’s hereby evicted. oopsie doopsies!

[georgialouisea]

What Should Have Been - Part 7

Characters - Dean X Reader, Bobby, Cas, Sam.  Word Count - 4300. Warnings - Angst, pregnancy, violent nightmares.  Summary - Dean’s moved in so everything can start to go back to ‘normal’ now Lisa is out of the picture, right? A/N -  Thank you all so much for your support for this series, if you’d like to support my work please do consider supporting my work.

Part 6 - Masterlist

Walking into Bobby’s you were exhausted, you’d been awake since 5am, been at work since 7am and 12 hours later you were finally home.

“Hey.” Bobby smiled at you as he cooked something on the stove. “You good?”

“Yeah, I’m just tired, Dean here?”

“No, he’s off on a hunt with Sam, something about a shapeshifting baby,” Bobby smirked.

“A shapeshifting baby? Really?”

“Yeah, I didn’t get a lot from Dean.”

“I’ll call in and check on them.”

“Pasta, salad and chicken for dinner,” Bobby called out

“Thank you! I’m changing then I’ll come down.”

“Okay!” Bobby called as you walked upstairs.

For the past 2 weeks, you’d been working more days and longer hours, much to Jody and Bobby’s dismay. Dean knew you were working more while he was away on hunts, you tried to work when he was away, sometimes even working evenings and nights so you’d be home when Dean was.

“You okay?” Bobby asked as you sat on the sofa after dinner.

“I’m just tired, I miss Dean, I’m just always scared to go to sleep without him here.”

“He’ll be home soon, plus you’ve had what two nightmares with him gone?”

“Yeah, maybe more than that.”

“You’ll be okay, I’m right next door.”

“They’re really bad Bobby, they may be less frequent but they’re just horrible.” You dropped your head as you fiddled with the hem of your shirt.

“Okay, tell me.” He turned off the TV and turned to you.

“It’s still her, she has just upped her game, you remember that episode of private practice where the woman cut the baby out of the Doctor.”

“Jesus, yes I do.”

“Yeah, that, she did that to me in my own bed and took my baby.”

“Y/N, you’ve seen that on TV I’m not surprised that you’d dream about yourself and Lisa in that scenario.”  

“Still, I swear I felt it, it was too real.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re safe here though.”

“I know I am, I’m going to try and call Dean before I go to sleep.” You spoke as you stood up.

“Okay, I’ll keep my door open anyway.” Bobby nodded as he turned the TV back on.

“Thank you.” Smiling at him you walked upstairs. It was already 9pm, you were well past exhausted, the thought of your day off tomorrow was a dream. Changing into your pyjamas you settled into bed, glancing at the empty rocking chair you grabbed your phone.

‘You free to talk? I heard you have a shapeshifting baby on your hands. x’

-‘Yeah I’m free, let me turn on my laptop I’ll facetime you.’

 Dean’s reply was instant.

Turning on your laptop you put it in bed beside you, the bedside lamps illuminated the room as you watched Dean’s call come through, clicking accept you smiled when Dean’s face filled your screen.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” He grinned as he sat against the headboard. “How are you?”

“I’m good.”

“Y/N -”

“I’m just tired as always.” You sighed pulling the sheets up around you. “Tell me about the hunt.” You changed the subject.

“Well I’m in a motel room and there’s a shapeshifting baby in the crib across the room.”

“What does it look like?”

“A baby.” Dean laughed.

“How’re you handling it? Where’s Sam?”

“He’s out interviewing, one of us had to stay with Bobby John.”

“Bobby John?”

“Yeah.” Dean stood up and disappears from your screen. “We were in the store and a woman asked what his name is I said Bobby, Sam said John so It’s Bobby John.” Dean’s voice was a loud whisper as he shuffled around the room.

“Wow, real creative boys.”

“Yes, we are.” Dean reappeared shirtless, you caught a glimpse of his black boxers before he slipped under the sheet. “Y/N, you look tired, get some sleep.”

“I don’t want to.” You blinked with heavy eyelids.

“Why don’t we try something different,” Dean suggested.

“Which is?”

“Staying on facetime all night, keeping our laptops on, it might help.” He gave you a smile as he watched you process.

“Yeah, okay.” You nodded at him. “Mine’s plugged in any way I could fall asleep any second.”

“It’s okay, don’t stay awake on my account.” Dean shuffled and disappeared again, the baby began to cry in his room, you listened as he soothed it and the crying soon subsided before Dean reappeared.

As you watched him you couldn’t help the tears that were falling, you felt your baby kick against your palm.

“Y/N, hey what’s wrong?” Dean asked as he sat forwards his brows knitted together. “You okay? Baby talk to me.”

“I’m okay, the baby’s kicking, I miss you.” You wiped away your tears as you tried to calm down.

“I’ll be home soon, sooner than you think okay?”

“Okay.”

“I’m here all night okay.”

“God I sound so needy.” You mumbled.

“You’re not, you’re upset and tired.”

“I’m sorry, I’m going to sleep.”

“You do, I’m here.” Dean’s voice dropped as you closed your eyes and listened to him talking to you as you talked asleep.

A baby crying woke you, looking at your laptop you saw Dean sound asleep, the crying was from downstairs. Grabbing your robe you walked downstairs, on the sofa sat Lisa with a baby in her arms.

“She’s mine now.” Lisa smiled at you.

“What?”

“Your baby, she’s mine, I always wanted a little girl.” She taunted as you looked down, your bump was gone and your stomach was flat.

“No!”

“Yes.” Lisa stood up and walked out of Bobby’s, running after her you were so close to her until she disappeared into the darkness.

“No!” You screamed as you ran when you couldn’t find her you dropped into the dirt. “NO, NO, NO!”

“Y/N!” Dean shouted. Your eyes flew open, your laptop was beside you, Dean’s face filled it as he watched you. “You’re okay.” He asked as Sam watched you from the table behind Dean.

“I’m okay, sorry.” You wiped your tears away. “I’m okay, I’m okay, what time is it?”

“Three am,” Sam answered.

“Y/N, I think we should see someone about your nightmares.” Dean rubbed his eyes as he sat up.

“Like who?”

“A shrink maybe.”

“There’s also Cas,” Sam added.

“I haven’t seen Cas in so long.” You yawned. “Does he even know I’m pregnant?”

“Erm, I don’t think he does.” Dean looked over his shoulder at Sam. “Have you told him?”

“No,I haven’t spoken to him in months.”

“Okay, when you’re home we’ll call Cas and maybe go to see a shrink.” You nodded.

“We’ll be home in a few days.” Dean’s head flopped back onto his pillow.

Settling yourself back into bed you closed your eyes. “Okay, I’ll see you then.”

“I’ll be here all night.”

Nodding you pulled the sheets up around you as you tried to listen as he spoke to Sam.

“Is she asleep?” Sam asked.

“I think so.” Dean’s eyes fell to the screen as he watched you dance on the edge of consciousness. “Why?”

“I think Cas should be your first call, she can’t carry on like this.”

“Yeah, I know, I’m calling him tomorrow.” Dean yawned. “How are you not tired?”

“Too much coffee.” Sam shrugged.

“Great, well watch Bobby John, I’m going back to sleep.”

“Sure.” Sam sat back in his chair and opened a beer. “You know when it’s your own you’ll have to do all this.”

“Yeah I know, I’m getting in the sleep while I can.”

“Well if Y/N’s nightmares don’t stop you won’t be getting much.”

“Shut up Sam, Y/N’s going to be fine,” Dean mumbled.

“I know she will be.”

“Good now shut up.” Dean huffed as he buried his face into the pillows.

You weren’t sure when it happened but ever since Dean came back into your life you were 100% dependant on him. Your life once again revolved around him, it was really pathetic. Before you were okay, independent, happy, now you’re a mess, you couldn’t even sleep through the night. You felt like a dog waiting for their owner to come home.

“Hello?” Sam called into the house.

“I’m upstairs!”

“Okay.”

“Hey, will one of you bring up the box by the door?”

“Which one there are loads!” Dean shouted.

“The biggest one and the rest if you can manage.”

“Got it!” Sam yelled as you heard the grunts and groans as they struggled with the boxes. Sam walked into your room with the biggest box in his arms. “Where do you want it?”

“Erm, by the wardrobe is fine.”

“Okay.” Sam put the box down. “I’m getting a beer, want anything?”

“No, I’m good.”

“Shall I put these with the other one?” Dean asked as he stood in your doorway with his arms full.

“Yes please.” You smiled at him as you got off your bed, you walked towards him as he put the boxes into a pile before standing up straight, his arms open.

“I missed you.” He whispered as he hugged you, his chin resting on your shoulder.

“I missed you too.” You smiled as he pulled away, his eyes drinking in every inch of your face.

“You okay?” He asked, his hands cupped your face as he rubbed your cheeks with his thumbs.

“Yeah, I’m good, are you?”

“I’m good.”

“Good, are you home for a few days?” You looked at him with a hopeful smile on your face.

“Yeah, I am.” He dropped his hands from your face to your hips. “What are you doing today?”

“Well, I have the day off because Jody thinks I’ve been working too much, I was kind of waiting for you to come home to see if you wanted to build the crib with me.”

“Yes.” Dean blurted. “Yes, where do we start?”

3 hours later you and Dean lay in bed together, the crib was made and sat by the window, a chest of drawers beside it, some new storage boxes were in your wardrobe. For once you felt mildly prepared for the baby.

“I can hunt a nest of vampires and not break a sweat but putting together some damn furniture and I’m exhausted.” Dean groaned as you ran your hand across his chest.

“I’d agree but you did most of the work.”

“You looked pretty so I’m not complaining.”

“Shut up.” You patted his chest as he rolled you so you were laying on the bed and not him.

“I’m serious.” He whispered as he leaned on his elbow over you. His face dropped lower as he leaned towards you, his lips found yours like they had many times before, but this time it didn’t feel desperate and needy, not grief-filled, it was natural.

Someone clearing their throat from your doorway made you pull away from Dean.

“Dean, can I talk to you?” Bobby’s jaw clenched as he looked at Dean. “Now.” He added with a growl.

Dean kissed you again before climbing off the bed and following Bobby out of your room and downstairs.

Getting out of bed you walked to the top of the stairs when you heard the front door slam you walked back to your room and left them to their chat.

“What?” Dean asked.

“Right, I’ve let certain things slide, but we need to talk, I need the truth right now.” Bobby snapped.

“About what?”

“Do you love Lisa?”

“What?”

“You heard me, boy.”

“No.”

“So it takes three weeks to fall out of love huh?”

“With a woman who lied to me, yes.”

“What about Y/N?” Bobby asked.

“What about her?”

“Do you love her?”

“Y/N?”

“Easy question Dean.”

“Bobby I-”

“It’s a yes or no.”

“Yes, I think I do.”

“If it wasn’t for the ‘think’ I’d believe you.”

“Bobby-”

“She doesn’t need you playing with her emotions, she doesn’t need to be your rebound.”

“She’s not my rebound.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, Bobby, I’m not trying to hurt her, we’ve been friends for years, If I had known she was pregnant I would have been here from day one, we all know this but I wasn’t so I’m making up for lost time, I’m trying my best, I think I’m falling in love with her.”

“There’s that word again, ‘think’, do you think you would have left Lisa if Y/N wasn’t pregnant? When you found out Sam’s alive would you be with Lisa or Y/N?”

“Bobby, If that would have happened I’d never know about Lisa’s lies because Y/N wouldn’t have come to find me.”

“Fine.” Bobby huffed.

“What?”

“I’m not happy.”

“When are you happy?”

“When that girl is happy, she loves you, you know, she properly stupidly loves you, and if you’re only in this for the kid tell her sooner rather than later.”

“You think I would have spent the past two weeks sleeping in a fucking rocking chair if I just cared about the kid?” Dean snapped.

“I suppose not.” Bobby’s voice dropped.

“Are we done? Because she’s probably freaking out.”

“Yes, we were talking about Sam if she asks.” Bobby concocted the lie.

“Fine, but we really do need to talk about Sam tomorrow, I’ve also called Cas to come check her out, about the nightmares.”

“Okay, does she know?”

“No, I was going to tell her today, but we got distracted by the crib building.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” Dean repeated.

You were halfway through folding the clothes you’d purchased for your baby when Dean walked into your room.

“You want anything?” He asked.

“No, I’m good.” Smiling up at him you quickly returned your attention to the tiny clothes in your hands. “Can you believe in a few months there’s going to be a tiny person wearing this?” You held up the babygro.

“Not really.” He smiled as he sat at the end of your bed, he reached out and grabbed some clothes to fold.

“God.” You tried to suppress your laughter.

“What?” He looked up at you with a frown.

“The baby’s going to look even smaller in your hands.” You pointed to the tiny clothes he was holding.

“Yeah, I suppose it will.” He looked down at the tiny clothes in his hands.

“Are you okay?” You asked, already knowing he wasn’t.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Tired? A shape-shifting baby probably takes it out of you.” You continued to speak as you folded.

“Yeah.” He sighed.

“Get some sleep, take my bed.” You watched him as you scooped up the rest of the clothes.

“I’ll be fine, I’m not even that tired.” Dean huffed as he continued to fold.

“Dean, you don’t have to do this.” You reached out for his hand.

“I have to do something right? I haven’t done anything for five months, should probably step up right?” He sniped at you.

“Dean, what’s wrong?” You asked ignoring his previous statement and tone.

“I - we need to talk.” He put the folded clothes next to yours before he got up and closed your door.

Taking all of the freshly folded clothes you put them in the drawers by the crib. “Sure.” You replied as you sat back on your bed. “About what?”

“I’ve called Cas.”

“About the baby?” Your hand flew to your bump as your brow furrowed.

“No, no about your nightmares.”

“Oh thank God.”

“Yeah, he said he’d drop in tonight to help or see what’s going on.”

“That’s good if not then a shrink.” You beamed as you tried to stay positive for Dean.

“Yeah, only if you want.”

“Let’s see what Cas says.”

“Sure.” He mumbled.

“Dean, what’s going on?” You put your hand on his knee.

“Nothing, I’m just worried about you.”

“I’m going to be okay.”

“I’m sure you are.” He smiled at you. “Want to watch a film or some TV tonight?”

“Yeah sure.”

“Great.” He spoke as you began to move your hand away, he grabbed it and looked at you. “Do you want to go to dinner tonight?”

“What? Al’s diner?”

“I was thinking more of a restaurant but if you want to go to Al’s diner that’s fine.”

“Dean, that would be lovely.”

“Okay, so seven okay?” He grinned at you.

“Perfect.” You smiled at him, your heart was pounding in your chest. Your hand was still in Dean’s, you were so close to him, he leaned in and kissed you again, his hand left yours and cupped your cheek, his free hand moved as his arm wrapped around you and pulled you closer to him. Your fingers trailed up his back, resting on the base of his neck as you kissed him until you were breathless. Putting your hand on his chest you smiled at him, his lips found yours again as he pressed quick kisses to them.

“We could stay in.” You whispered as Dean’s forehead rested against yours.

“Yeah?”

“I have some ideas as to what we could do.”

“I think Bobby would kill me.” Dean smirked as he pulled away from you, his hand falling onto your thigh. “So I’ll see you later.”

“You’ll see me in like ten minutes.” You laughed as you watched him pause debating if he should get up.

“You know what I mean.”

“Of course.” You smiled at him. “Can we just have a little nap?” You looked up at him. “You’ve built some furniture and I’m growing a human, I think we deserve it.”

“God yes!” He lay back and gently pulled you with him. “You’re more deserving.” He whispered.

“Thank you.” You stifled a yawn as you rested your head on his chest, his arms wrapped around you as his breathing evened out.

Closing your eyes you settled into his arms and tried to get some sleep.

“Y/N, It’s six pm, we need to get up,” Dean whispered into your ear.

“Mhm.” You moaned moving your hand up Dean’s chest.

“You still want to go out for dinner?” He mumbled.

“Yeah, yeah, just give me a minute.” You patted his chest as you snuggled into his side. “Just a minute.” You promised as you closed your eyes.

Opening your eyes you were alone, Dean was gone but he’d tucked you in and replaced himself with pillows.

“Dean?” You called as you sat up. “You here?”

“Downstairs!” He shouted.

Grabbing your dressing gown you threw it over your jeans and shirt, walking downstairs as you tied it you surveyed the room looking for him.

“I’m here.” He announced from the kitchen.

“What are you doing?” You covered your mouth as you yawned.

“Well you were too tired to go out so I thought we could just eat in and I’d cook for us,” Dean spoke with his back to you as he stirred something on the stove.

“Dean you didn’t have to do this.” You smiled as he cooked away. “You should have woke me up, I could have changed.”

“It’s okay, honestly I’m tired too, Bobby’s out with Jody, so we’re here alone.” Dean took his eyes off the stove to look at you. “You look pretty.”

“I just got up and I’m in a robe.” You laughed.

“Pretty,” Dean affirmed.

“So … what’s for dinner? You need help?”

“It’s a surprise and no, I’m good.” Dean smiled at you.

“Okay, well, I’m going to smile and change, do I have enough time?” You asked as you rested your chin on Dean’s shoulder and your hand on his back.

“Yes, you do, like maybe twenty minutes.” He kissed your forehead as he wrapped an arm around you.

“I’ll be back down soon.” You leaned up and kissed his cheek before walking upstairs.

After showering you sat on your bed in a towel, staring into your open wardrobe you had no idea what to wear.

You spent a few minutes looking into your wardrobe before you decided on a deep burgundy dress that you’d bought a few weeks ago with Jody.

Drying and styling your hair you put on a little bit of makeup before you walked downstairs.

“God, you look amazing.” Dean licked his lips as he watched you.

“You don’t look half bad yourself Winchester.” You drank him in, he was in a dark blue pair of jeans and a new deep red plaid.

“Whatever.” He rolled his eyes as he pulled a chair out for you.

“What are we having?” You asked as you sat in the chair Dean was holding out.

“Well I know your food preferences have changed recently, but I think I have it down.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” Dean smiled as he walked to the stove. “Okay missy, I have your favourite mac and cheese, homemade may I add.” He proudly placed the dish on the table. “I also made some pasta, some salad, I made some leek and potato soup because I know you really like that right now, I made steak for me but that’s only because you’ve gone off meat, your food hasn’t touched it.”

“Dean you’ve done so much, I couldn’t care if you cooked a steak in the same pan as something else.”

“You would but I haven’t.”

“You did all of this because I couldn’t get my ass out of bed?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged as he wiped his hands on some paper towel. “Dean thank you so much!”

“You want to eat?” He sat opposite you as he spoke.

“Yes!” You grinned at him.

For once you felt normal like you were on a real date with Dean. You both talked about anything and everything, news, baby names, godparents to videos of dogs knocking people over.

After you ate you helped Dean clean up despite his protests, by 9 pm you were tired again, settling on your bed with Dean you rested your head on his chest. You tried so hard to focus on the film he’d selected but you just couldn’t.

“Y/N?” Dean stopped rubbing your back. “You want me to help you change?”

“Mhm.” You mumbled as you held onto him.

“Y/N, I can’t help you if you’re clinging to me.” Dean easily pried your arms off him.

“I’m fine in my dress.”

“Nope,” Dean announced. “Come on.” He gently pulled you up into his arms. “Let’s get you changed.

“I can do it.” You tried to push Dean away from you but you gave up when your hand rested on his chest. “I can do it.”

“Sure, you can.” Dean laughed.” It’s honestly like you’re drunk.”

“I’m just tired.” Opening your eyes you reached for your pjs under Dean’s pillow. “When’s Cas coming? I should try to stay awake.”

“Don’t know, he said he’d drop in tonight.” Dean shrugged. “Are you going to fall asleep if I leave you to change?”

“Maybe.” You yawned as you tried to keep your eyes open.

“Right.” Dean stood up and walked towards your dresser, grabbing some underwear he returned to you. “Stay sat up.” He spoke as he reached for the base of your dress.

“Dean, I can do this.” You swatted away his hand as you looked at him.

“Okay, I’ll go get you a glass of water then.” He kissed your forehead before he left you alone. Changing was easy but slow, on a normal day you’d take seconds to put a top on, today it took you nearly a minute.

As soon as you were dressed you got under the covers, You could hear Dean downstairs open a bottle and pouring before the glass slammed into the table and the pouring resumed.

When he walked back into your room he had a glass of whiskey in one hand and a glass of water in his other.

“What’s going on?” You sat up and watched him.

“Nothing, I’m fine.”

“So you’re chugging whiskey downstairs but you’re fine.”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Dean, please don’t lie to me.” You begged as he got in bed next to you.

“Bobby isn’t happy with me, but don’t say anything okay? I’m going to fix it, so don’t worry?”

“What’s he not happy about?” You looked at him as he took another drink.

“He just isn’t happy with me, I promise I’ll fix it and we’ll all be fine, don’t worry about it okay?” Dean whispered into your hair.

“Are you sure, you know you can talk to me.”

“I know, I will, I just need to think things through before I do anything.” He took another drink as his arm wrapped around you. “Get some sleep.”

“What about Cas?”

“I’ll wake you.”

“Will you stay here tonight? With me?” You smiled up at him.

“Sure.” He shifted you both further down the bed so you could lay down.

“Thank you, I’m going to get some sleep.” You blinked at the TV as Dean pressed play.

“Okay.” Dean whispered as he took another drink.

As soon as you closed your eyes you knew you were going to fall asleep in seconds.

“Dean.” Cas’ voice filled the room. “Y/N’s pregnant?”

“Yeah, did I not say when I called?”

“No, you did not.” Cas snapped.

“Sorry, yeah she’s pregnant before you let slip if it’s a boy or girl please don’t because she’ll kill me.”

“I won’t tell you the sex.” Cas nodded.

“Thanks, so can you help with these nightmares?” Dean questioned.

“I can try.”

“Should I wake her?”

“No, she can stay asleep.”

“Okay.” Dean nodded as he watched Castiel walk around the room and sit on the bed next to you, his hand reached out and touched your forehead, his brow creased as he closed his eyes.

“Dean something’s wrong.”

Part 8 

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SPN Pond Taglist- @dr-dean @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @nichelle-my-belle @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @notnaturalanahi @impala-dreamer @deathtonormalcy56 @samsgoddess @spn-fan-girl-173 @deansleather @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname @waywardjoy @imadeangirl-butimsamcurious @kayteonline @supernatural-jackles @wevegotworktodo @jpadjackles @quiddy-writes @babypieandwhiskey @deantbh @deanwinchesterforpromqueen @chaos-and-the-calm67 @memariana91 @plaidstiel-wormstache @chelsea-winchester @fandommaniacx  @revwinchester  @castieltrash1 @supernaturalyobessed @ruined-by-destiel @winchester-writes @maraisabellegrey @faith-in-dean @winchestersmolder @bennyyh @clueless-gold @deanwinchesterxreader @winchester-family-business @4401lnc @just-another-winchester @canadianjelly

@mrswhozeewhatsis Taglist Dean -  @itsemmyb @ezauraemmaline @charliesbackbitches @crzcorgi @ellen-reincarnated1967 @littlegreenplasticsoldier @gryffindorable713 @deerlululucy @walkingencyclopediaoffandom @growleytria @thegleegeneration @samtomydeanwinchester @sis-tafics @amaranthinecastiel @fandommaniacx @meganwinchester1999 @kittenofdoomage @samanddeanwinchester67 @ferferelli @iridianuniverse @the-morning-star-falls @ackleslaugh @fangirling-instead-of-working @eyes-of-a-disney-princess @kayteonline @spnsimpleman@winchesterfiesta @sleep-silent-angel @gadreelsforbiddenfruit @jencharlan @skybinx-blog @thebunkerismyhome @feelmyroarrrr @beachy2014 @fandom-book-nerd @tia58  @deansleather @faegal04 @sunriserose1023 @saving-things-hunting-family @winchesterswoonathon @jotink78 @lucifer-in-leather @i-dont-know-how-to-write @everyday-supernatural-af @notnaturalanahi @howmanytuesdaysdidyouhave @babypieandwhiskey @besslincoln-bruh @shelovesallthethings @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish @hexparker @atwistoffate @evilskank-inthemegacoven @there-must-be-a-lock

[blackontinder-blog]

Goodbye Basketball Player

New Year New Resolutions... 

If something is not right from the beginning, it’s really hard to turn it around and force it to be what you want.

That’s what I realised with the Basketball player... communication is key and for some reason, we couldn’t find a way to make it happen.

I went back home and messaged him a week before letting him know I was arriving.

He seemed happy about it and we made a plan to grab dinner the day after my arrival.

On the say, I message, hey still up for later, what time you want to meet?

The first sign of it not being right was when he says, ‘oh I was waiting to hear from you and made plans to see some friends in the afternoon, so can we do 9pm?’

9pm? no way... I’m English now, which means I have dinner at 6:30 / 7 latest, also that’s quite late anyway...

He changes his plans to be with me but fails to tell me he told his friends he would meet them after dinner. So I go into the date thinking we’re gonna spend the night together.

We have dinner and everything is going super well. Until he asks, so what’s happening in your life? 

For some reason, I felt like I could be honest and share a bit of what had been happening, so I tell him about the ghoster and the troublemaker. BIG MISTAKE!

I should know better by now... but no, I had to be all honest and transparent and fucking naive!

At the time he seemed fine, but I later found out he was actually upset to hear that I had been involved with other men, and I was struggling to with the fact that all guys only want to have a casual relationship and sex.

Anyway, the conversation comes to an end and I ask what are we up to?

To which he replies that he thought we were just doing dinner and that he made plans with his mates.

Hmmm... ok, I say – I was hoping we were gonna spend more time together.

Fast forward, we’re sitting at a bar with his friends and ordering wine.

He wanted white, I wanted red. But fine, I confined to white.

Two other guys are sitting on our table. One is Iranian and the other black from California.

They both start chatting, and order red, so I ask if I can share with them instead?

Please tell me is there something wrong here?

Must I remind everyone, up until now, he hadn’t kissed me or touched me or made a single move? So I was taking things lightly and just enjoying myself.

I start chatting with the guys about their travels and recommending things in Colombia since they were heading there.

They say they couldn’t hear me, so I stood up and go sit next to them for a bit.

I can still see my date from the corner of my eye, and see his face becoming moody. I didn’t leave him alone, fyi, since he was chatting to his mate.

He then stands up and goes to the toilet, when he comes back I’m already sitting in my sit and ask if everything is ok.

No, everything was not ok, but it took me 5 min to get it out from him.

Apparently, I was disrespecting him, by accepting drinks from other guys and sitting next to him.

I also disrespected him by telling him about the guys I had been sleeping with and had no consideration for his feelings.

What the f???

Come on dude, you haven’t messaged me in months. I was the one taking the initiative and letting you know I when I was coming back home.

Anyway... I try my best to make things right again, but you know what they say? Once the milk is spoilt there’s not much we can do.

Nevertheless, we ended up staying out and I ended up in his bed.

Until things went south again...

We had drunk sex, and he decided to come outside on top of me... without asking!

Am I wrong in assuming, guys always need to ask if they can come on top of us? Fine we weren’t wearing a condom, and he had forgotten I have a IUD, but that doesn’t give him the right to ejaculate all over me. 

As a man, you can definitely take 5 seconds and say you’re about to come and if it’s ok to come on top of me.

So he does his thing, and I lose my shit. Don’t know if it was the alcohol or that fact that we had been fighting all night, or even that apparently my period was about to come the next day, but I didn't take it well.

So I go all passive-aggressive.

We fall asleep, and wake up the next morning, still drunk and have sex again.

As we’re done I ask what he’s up to that day with the hope of seeing him again later. He doesn’t seem interested in seeing me, and so I really lose it this time.

I stand up and start ranting about how he is full of bullshit. How can he point his finger at me and accuse me of all those things and then behave like that after having sex twice?

I leave mad, after telling him to fuck off and not bother to text me...

Problem is I was still drunk and my period was about to come, so as I get home I completely regret my actions. 

So I decide to text him apologizing, which didn’t help. He told me to stay away and let him be and he’ll text me when he’s ready to speak again.

A week goes by and I decide to text him again on a Saturday night.

He’s out I’m out but we end up not managing to meet so we plan for the next day. He seems to have forgotten the whole incident.

We talk about what happened the night before and try to put it behind us.

He walks me out of his room and gives me a shitty kiss.

I go home and text him saying I wish he had kissed me properly, he says he’ll make sure he does next time.

3 days go by and he finally messages me...

‘hey, do you know about the Nike shop on the other side of the river? an outlet or something?’

‘hmmm, no... I don’t think I do. but yes there’s an outlet a bit far, and a mall, why?’

‘oh, can you drive me there?’

‘what????? are you serious? Am I a uber?’

‘nevermind, I’ll ask my friends’

‘you are something else.. for someone who complained about me using you... if you had approached it differently and asked me out for lunch in spend the day together I’d actually consider it..’

‘yeah you’re right.. my bad’

‘well I guess then that’s it, we’re not seeing each other again before I leave’

‘yeah sorry not feeling it.. ‘ blah blah blah blah blah blah

Fuck off! Fucking time waster...