#its like 3:30am i just needed to get this off my chest

[natsmagi]

honestly the more i hear about engstars and its TLs the more i absolutely dread the inevitable release of poltergeist and what may ensue from it, bc if if the translators themselves are already invalidating arashis identity then i Really Truly do not want to see how theyll translate natsume and tsumugis microaggressions/transphobia towards her. esp since ive noticed a rise in people being comfortably transphobic towards her, and i REALLY do not wish to see natsume and tsumugi being stupid fucking morons be used as evidence to discredit her

and i think this is all the more reason why its VERY IMPORTANT for engstars to DIRECTLY ACKNOWLEDGE arashi and her gender. bc sometimes characters are STUPID and RUDE and APATHETIC. enstars is a story with NUANCED and FLAWED CHARACTERS, and when a character is being a fucking asshole youre meant to PROVE THEM WRONG. but they dont even acknowledge arashi as a girl themselves. so, if you do use engstars, please keep pressuring them bc omfg this is so bad and i can only see it getting worse

[dylanmunson]

Baby Parker

(Parts 16-19 via Wattpad)

Master of masterlists || baby Parker || Wattpad

an: its 3:30am what is sleep, ive had like 3 hours lmao anyway. Bit of short one but the next one will hopefully be longer! 

EDDIES POV

ozzy is now a few hours old, and y/n is napping while he naps on my bare chest. The nurses said skin to skin is super important, so here i am sat shirtless with my little baby boy in a nappy and pair of socks on my chest, blanket laying over his body to keep him warm.

His head is full of dark hair, y/n said he's the spitting image of me, i dont see it, but im utterly in love with the little man. Its coming up to 9am ish when he starts fussing a little, the nurse had come in and showed me how to change his nappy as i was scared he'd break, she also put a bottle of new born formula on the side incase he got fussy again. Knowing that mum needed the rest after that long arse birth. 

y/n begins waking up slowly i grin at her as she does "morning sleepy head" i smile moving to place a kiss on her forehead. The chair im in is sat next to the bed. "my boys" she mumbles yawning, moving the back of her hand to her mouth as she does. "You both ok?" she says voice still full of sleep. I nod and kiss her forehead again "rest hun" i whisper, "can i hold him?" she says softly, i nod passing the little boy over to her, he snuggles straight into her chest. 

"c'mere" she sighs patting the bed next to her, i grin and sit beside her wrapping my arm around her shoulders looking down at her and the little boy. "Its not visiting hours yet but i your daughters here?" a nurse says walking into the room, "yeah, i rang gareth to bring her down" i chuckle looking at y/n. She smiles softly nodding as i get up, putting on my shirt and walking out into the waiting room. 

"Hey man, sorry she was just getting fussy and kept asking for you and y/n" he sighs, i smile softly picking up the little girl who is holding on tightly to her blanket, dressed in her pjs still. "hey sweetheart" i grin kissing over her face. "Did you have fun with uncle gar" i grin she nods but cuddles into the crook of my neck, "oh baby" i chuckle rubbing her back. "Im gonna head home and sleep, i dunno how you both do it honestly" he chuckles i grin thanking him before he leaves before taking parker into the room. 

"Now park, gotta be quiet ok? look" i say pointing to her mum and the baby "baba?" she says i nod "yeah thats your baby, your little brother" i grin kissing her head. "baby!" y/n says seeing the little girl, "muma" she grins i chuckle placing the little girl on the bed next to her mum, her trying to look over the bundle of blankets that her brother is hiding in. 

"parker meet ozzy" she smiles at the two babies. "ozzy this is your big sister parker" she says as the little boy begins to opens his eyes looking around the room. Ozzy lets out a little yawn as he looks around at his surrounds. His brown eyes looking into y/c/e she grins placing a kiss on his forehead. "my babies" she mumbles sighing softly, "you hungry hun?" i grin she nods "i'll be back, parker wanna come?" she huffs before opening her arms for me to take her before we leave the room on the hunt to find some food.

////////

an: ya girls hella depressed, but shes meeting the vecnussy(jamie) in november so... anyway short little chapter! tell me what you want to see happen next!

YOUR POV 

Feeding ozzy is a breeze, compared to parker theres no problem with him latching on to my nipple to suck. Eddie and Parker walk back into the room with big grins on their faces. "what you done" i mumble looking at them, eddie grins "nothing hunni, we got you pancakes and a milkshake" he smiles placing the food on the little table for me, as parker sits on the chair beside eddie eating her apple slices. 

"thankyou hun" i mumble, leaning up to give him a kiss, ozzy now done with breast feeding, i burp him, and he shows off a windy smile, clearly milk drunk. Eddie chuckles watching the little boy. I put ozzy in the little cot beside my bed as i begin eating my breakfast. "this is so good" i sigh softly eddie chuckles "i bet huh" i nod "i love you" i sigh looking at the man, his checkered shirt, not buttoned up all the way and his joggers having loose on his hips. His hair also in a messy low bun, resting on the back of his neck. 

"i love you bub" he grins leaning over and kissing me softly, "umm could you just pass me that envelope in the bag?" i smile at eddie, he nods and grabs the envelope. "Did you wanna give Parker the teddy ozzy got her" i grin, eddie nods finding the bear. 

"hey parker look what ozzy got you" he smiles showing the girl the bear, sitting her on the bed with me. "bear!" she grins grabbing it cuddling it to her chest, "yeah bear, ozzy got it for you to say thanks for being his big sister" eddie says smiling at the little girl. "tanks" she grins looking for the baby. "Hes a sleep bubba" i grin kissing her head. 

"Eds" i smile "theres also a little present for you" i smile, he frowns "dont be silly" i smile and hand him the envelope. "open it" i smile bringing parker closer to my chest, kissing the top of her head. 

EDDIES POV 

i open the letter and read over it, then re read over it. I look at y/n and parker and open my mouth but nothing comes out. I look at the letter again "you sure?" she nods, "yeah" she smiles, eyes filling with tears. "dada" Parker grins reaching her hands out to me. I put the letter down and grab parker giving her a big hug. "ove youuu dada" she grins placing a sloppy open mouth kiss on my cheek. I break at this point. 

"oh eds" y/n grins taking my hand into hers. "you really want me to adopt her?" i sob sitting on the bed beside her. she nods "its what we want isnt it park" she grins kissing the little girls cheek, parker just giggles and cuddles into my chest "dada" she smiles up at me. 

"i.. but i" y/n smiles softly, "then ozzy AND her will both have your last name, it only makes sense, your her dad" she shrugs, "but im not" i mumble, y/n rolls her eyes softly taking the back of her hand to get rid of her tears before using her thumb to get rid of mine. 

"Eddie Munson, you are her father, yes you may not be her biological dad but youve been there when shes hurt, happy, her birthday, her teeth coming in, her first steps, when she has a bad dream" she says listing things off. "its very much like how you see wayne" she smiles "you dont get to choose your parents" she chuckles, "but parker did choose you" she sighs, placing her hand on my thigh. "dada add?" parker says looking at me, frowning and moving her hands to my cheeks "daddys fine bub" i chuckle sniffing away the snot and tears. "dada" she says "yeah baby" i smile. 

"ooovveee yoouu" she giggles, i let out a sob quickly covering my face with one arm as parker wraps her arms around my neck. "Obviously you dont have to i jus--" y/n says "no i will, i want nothing more than to be here for her... and ozzy and you obviously" i chuckle covering my face and looking at my girls. y/n smiling at me "yeah?" i nod "yeah" i grin kissing her softly looking at the paperwork again. 

"then its just you" i chuckle looking at y/n. She frowns "your the only one thats not a munson" i grin at her "well yet" i chuckle and wink at her.

/////////

an: sorry i havent posted in ages, my mental health has gone to shit and i've moved back in with the fam and yeah.. but here we go! 

Baby boy munson is now a week old, and we're at home laying on the sofa, with baby boy on my chest as he naps, eddie has taken parker to do a small food shop. The house is quiet... too quiet. When the phone rings, "hello" I say sitting up a little, making sure not to wake the baby thats sleeping on my chest. 

"y/n?" "Hi who's speaking?" "its Eric, look i know its been a while but im coming down to hawkins, and was wondering if you wanted to meet up" "why the fuck are you coming to hawkins" "i've got family down there, you know this" "no i dont? how did you get my number?! you completely ignored all contact from me after that night" "well i heard you were expecting, so" "so you dodged the bullet" "well yeah, but its not like you kept the thing is it" he chuckles. 

"im hanging up now, dont call me again" i put the phone down, and sigh. Feeling the anger starting to boil up, i pat Ozzy's back as he begins waking up, "hey im sorry little guy" i mumble kissing his head as he goes back off to sleep. 

--

Later that evening, Ozzy's asleep in his cot and your getting parker ready for bed as eddie talks to his band mates in the living area. "dada?" parker says "daddys busy honey" i smile kissing her forehead, "dada issss" she grins, i chuckle and nod carrying the little girl into the living area, "eds, hun, sorry she wanted to say good night" 

He grins and takes her in his arms, "good night my princess" he smiles placing lots of kisses all over her little face, she giggles and puts her small hands on his cheeks "dada illy" she giggles. "Guys i'll be two minutes" he smiles getting up "come on little one lets get you to bed" he smiles, walking into her bedroom, i follow after him, both of us tucking her into bed and kissing her forehead before walking out the room. 

"So where were we" he grins, i smile and busy myself in the kitchen as they talk over the new setlist they wanna play at the new club thats opening in the town over. "I'm sure Wayne wont mind having the little ones for the evening" he smiles looking at me. "i dunno hun, ozzy's still only small" i sigh, he nods. "The gigs not for another two weeks" i sigh and dry my hands, "maybe? i dunno" he nods "we'll see closer to the time i suppose" he smiles pulling me to sit on his lap. 

--

The day of the gig flew by, Wayne had agreed to look after both little ones that evening, it not being much bother as they were both asleep by the time i left. "Please call me if anything happens or" he smiles stopping me "i know, now go have fun" he smiles, i nod sighing before  getting in the car and driving to the town over. 

Once there i meet eddie outside, wrapping my arms around him and sighing softly, he chuckles kissing the top of my head "come" he grins, taking my hand and leading me into the little green room. 

"Hey y/n this is Eric, Michael and John" Gareth smiles, "Their performing tonight as well, plus this ones like my fourth cousin?" he grins "third but" eric grins, i shake my head "no" i mumble looking down. "oh hey y/n" he grins, "long time no see" he chuckles "you know each other?" gareth smiles. "oh yeah, we go waaaay back dont we" he grins. I shake my head "no" Eddie frowns "sweetheart whats wrong?" 

"no-nothing" i mumble gripping his hand tighter. He frowns but doesnt push it further, Eric just smirks and goes back over to his band mates, of fucking course he'd be here. How did i not know they were cousins?! 

"i've got to go set up but i'll be back in 10 ok" eddie grins kissing my forehead i nod "i'll co--" "stay here, have a drink, relax" he grins "10 minutes" he smiles, i sigh as he walks out the room with his band. "a shame your taken sweet" eric grins, "really missed that body of yours" "fuck off" i turn to him. He just smirks at me, "oh she has attitude now" "i swear to fuck, drop it, leave it, leave me alone" "heard you just had a baby with that munson kid, surprised he didnt run, he looks like the type to run" he grins. 

"eric i said leave it" i sigh "or what" he laughs, Eddie walks back in "hey, i for- hey baby" he chuckles as i rush into his chest. "Eds i think i needa go, im not feeling to good" i mumble, "baby i know your worried about the kids but their fine" he smiles "kids? as in more than one?" eric says. Eddie nods "uhh yeah Parker and Ozzy" he smiles, showing him a polaroid of the two babies. "y/n" eric says, "no" i say "y/n how old is the other one" "i said no" i say hiding away into eddies chest. 

"y/n" he says again, but with more force, "whoa dude" eddie says, i sigh and turn to face eric. "You dodged the bullet remember" i say, tear now filling my eyes, bottom lip going. 

"you ignored the calls," i say as tears start to run down my face, "baby wha" eddie says, i shake my head and pull away from his grip. 

"i've got a daughter?" eric says, i shake my head. 

"Your her donor, but your not her father" i say, full on crying now.

@alicefallsintotherabbithole @tenderhornynihilist @itsyouimagines @witchsbitchestime @kyomiite @girl-with-an-orange-cat @flatoust11 @udontcarethisshit @chloepricerk800 @kellysimagines @caitfrogs @get-me-to-wonderland @bdpst-massacre @lagataprrr @goldenharrysworld @oo0lady-mad0oo @presidential-facts @qu7nn @pleasantlycrazyworld @ladyapplejackdnd @meaganjm @dixontardis @megsrose @chaos-incorp @sourbutcalm143 @lieblingsmenzch @kbakery @stcastwh00re @greatfandomsgalore @eddies-gf-86 @mariar597 @lothiriel9 @lesliemcawesome @chrisevansmarvelmcu @zdarie @notbeforelong @jayy-sins @dessmxsworld @brxkenartt @bonkynsteeb @ches-86 @qardasngan @authorlovers @dessmxsworld @madsthetyper

[from-1-to-90]

Day 2 & 3 of 90 - We're doing this thing

Let's get down to business, folks!

Day 2 Recap

HOW I FELT

For some reason, I kept tossing and turning the night before and then woke up on my own at 6:30am (1-2 hours before I usually wake up) unable to fall back asleep. I have no idea why. So I didn't get a lot of sleep the night before. But surprisingly, my energy levels weren't terrible, at least not in the first half of the day. I started off the morning with a couple of Pilates arm workouts, in the comfort of my living room, and then went to the gym a little while later to get the rest of my workout in. It wasn't until the mid-afternoon that I felt like my body just crashed. I don't know if it was because my body isn't used to exercising, or because of the lack of sleep the night before, or a combination of the two. But my productivity and energy pretty much vanished at that point. Which is okay, we can be flexible. I ended up taking a nap in the mid-afternoon for about 20 minutes because I was just exhausted.

WORKOUT SESSION

20 minutes of arm-focused Pilates in the early morning:

"7 minute arms" by Blogilates

Bridal Bootcamp arms by Blogilates

50 minute workout session in the gym in the late morning:

Elliptical machine, 10 minutes, 0.6 miles, mostly level 3 with a bit of level 4 (and a teeny bit of level 6)

Block B PT exercises

Treadmill, 10 minutes, 0.5 miles, ~level 5 incline

Stretching afterward - mainly quad stretches.

MEASUREMENTS

I measured with an actual measuring tape instead of a piece of ribbon on this day, so I'm going to use this day as an actual baseline.

Chest: 36.5" Waist: 31.5" Left bicep: 11" Right bicep: 11.5" Left thigh (3 inches down): 21" Right thigh (3 inches down): 22.5"

It's fascinating that my right thigh is a whole 1.5 inches wider around than my left thigh. It really shows how much my left leg atrophied after the injury and surgery. It also explains why my left leg is still so much weaker compared to the right leg - there's a good amount of muscle that needs to be gained back.

Day 3 Recap

HOW I FELT

Definitely felt more energetic today, as I actually slept a proper amount, but also I felt sore. I knew that I needed to switch up my workout because I could tell how much my legs needed it. So I decided to focus on my abs and my back instead of more treadmill/elliptical today.

WORKOUT SESSION

50 minutes of pilates at home:

"Beautiful abs" by Blogilates, 2x. The second time, I did a modified version of the exercises where I had my head on the mat the whole time.

"10 minute lower ab flattener" by Blogilates

"Ultimate Back Workout" by Blogilates

"Quick Burn Standing Back Workout" by Blogilates

Stretching afterward, focusing on arms and back.

My abs / core are not at the same level they were back when I was doing these exercises last time, and I could tell because after just second Blogilates video, my neck was killing me. I knew that that was happening because my core wasn't strong enough to do the moves on its own, so my upper body / neck was straining trying to help me through the moves. Not only is that a literal pain in the neck, it's also not helping me to work out my core properly. So that's why the second time I did the ab video, I modified the moves so that my head was resting on the mat the whole time, to avoid using my upper body to "help" my core get through the moves. Eventually, I won't have to do this anymore, but I know enough now to not push my body to do something that's bad for it just for the sake of "getting through the moves." After all, if I'm not doing them properly, then I'm not actually helping my body.

Also, the difference in strength between my two legs is becoming painfully obvious. As I was doing some of the pilates back exercises, I found myself wobbling when trying to balance on my left leg (a problem that I didn't have when doing the other side). But that's why we're doing this! My left leg (and particularly the knee area) has also been feeling a bit sore, but that's a good sign, because it means those muscles are building up again. I have to remember that this is a journey and my leg won't get better overnight. I have to count and celebrate every little bit of progress and growth.

FOOD

I want to talk about food for a minute. I've heard the same thing that I think everyone else has, about how drinking chocolate milk post-workout is a great thing. I've also heard that it's best to eat within 30-60 minutes after you work out, in order to reap the most benefits. My issue is that post-workout, I'm typically wanting to stretch, take a shower, and just come down from the workout without having to worry about eating. I might do a compromise where I drink a protein shake right away post-workout, and then eat a meal after I've done my other post-workout rituals (showering, stretching, etc.). We'll see how it goes. Also, I do not need an excuse to drink chocolate milk (because I love it), so I will gladly do so post-workout, but I also kind of side-eye this recommendation. Chocolate milk is very sugary. At the same time, however, it is purported to be a good source of protein. So for the time being I'll mostly follow this recommendation until I feel like I should be doing something else.

MEASUREMENTS

These probably aren't going to change much, if at all, for the first month at least, and even then, will change extremely gradually. But I'll keep recording these here for posterity (at least for now). I also just realized that I completely neglected to measure my hips for the past couple of days, so I will do that now.

Chest: 36.5" Waist: 31.5" Hip: 40" Left bicep: 11" Right bicep: 11.5" Left thigh (3 inches down): 21.5" Right thigh (3 inches down): 23"

No change in anything besides the thighs, but I have a feeling that the change in that has more to do with human error in my measuring than anything else. I find it interesting that even at my measurement today, my right thigh is still 1.5" wider around than my left, which tells me that difference between my two legs is accurate at the very least.

Also, I now have a scale, so I'll weigh myself tomorrow morning before I've imbibed any liquids so that we have a baseline for the start of this journey. But like I said, I really don't want to get attached to the number on the scale, so I will try not to weigh myself more frequently than once per month or so. My guess is that my weight will be somewhere around 145-150 lbs. I've spent my 20s fluctuating between the 130s and the 150s, so that's my guess.

[delphi-dreamin]

Laundry

He always thought she’d seemed so innocent. She’d always deftly avoided Asmo’s advances and kept mostly to herself when his brothers were being rowdier. She had a shy smile and a soft voice when she spoke, but not now. Now she seems like a completely different person.

Characters: MC!Delphi and Lucifer

Warnings: mildly suggestive, that's all I got, if you're like me then there's some secondhand embarrassment to be had

Word Count: 965 (Whoo!)

It only takes Delphi a couple of weeks in the House of Lamentation to learn that the best time to do her laundry is at 2AM. Most everyone is in bed, everyone is in their respective rooms, and she’s free to move about as she pleases. She takes her headphones and her laptop so that she can work on homework if she needs to, and usually stays until around 4, or until her laundry is done, whichever comes first. She enjoys it. Spending the nights alone, listening to music and working on whatever she needs to. It’s some much needed alone time in a house with seven other occupants.

Its 3:30AM when Lucifer finally puts his pen down for the evening. He’s been at his desk for entirely too long for a Friday night and it’s beyond time to go to bed. Except that he can’t. He still hasn’t done laundry. He sighs to himself. Best to just get it over with.

He approaches the laundry room and pauses. Beyond the open door he can hear someone singing. Not just someone, though. Delphi. He can’t tell exactly what it is she’s singing though. It isn’t familiar to him, and the curse on the laundry room muffles most of the sound coming from inside the room.

He opens the door and his eyes widen.

The exchange student is in front of the dryer in what looks to be one of Mammon’s shirts and a pair of black lace underwear, hips gyrating to a beat that only she can hear. He watches her for a moment, leaning in the doorframe. This is a side of herself she hasn’t shown before, at least not to him. And then she starts singing again, and his face goes impossibly red.

“’Cause I may be bad but I’m perfectly good at it / sex in the air, I don’t care I love the smell of it / sticks and stones may break my bones but chains and whips excite me,” she sings at the top of her lungs. Not badly by any means. She’s actually quite good, he thinks, but the words themselves catch him off guard.

She continues singing and dancing, completely oblivious to his presence as he continues to watch her. He always thought she’d seemed so innocent. She’d always deftly avoided Asmo’s advances and kept mostly to herself when his brothers were being rowdier. She had a shy smile and a soft voice when she spoke, but not now. Now she seems like a completely different person.

Delphi finishes her song, laughing at her own ridiculousness. She opens the dryer and begins taking her clothes out, piling them haphazardly into her small basket. She pulls out her earbuds, draping them over her shoulder before picking up her basket and straightening.

“’Chains and whips’, hm?”

“Oh my- Fuck, Lucifer!” Delphi yelps, dropping her basket and spilling clothes everywhere. Clutching her chest and leaning back against the dryer she gasps, “You scared the shit out of me!”

The eldest chuckles, “You have a mouth on you after all, don’t you?”

“How long were you standing there?” she asks, kneeling down to pick up her fallen laundry. Her heart is still racing and her hands are shaking, but she does manage to pick her clothes up.

“Long enough,” Lucifer replies, finally bringing his own laundry in. An amused smile still plays at the corners of his mouth, and Delphi feels herself flushing, her face heating up.

She’s suddenly very aware that she has no pants on. And that there aren’t any in her basket that she can put on. And that the underwear she has on are extremely see-through. She’s never doing her laundry this late again. She’ll just suffer through having to sit with Mammon or Satan or whoever while she does it.

She gathers her things on top of her clothes while Lucifer loads his own into the washer. Maybe if she's quick enough, she can get out of this situation without any further embarrassment. She scurries off toward the door, but stops, wincing, when Lucifer clears his throat.

“You have a lovely voice, by the way,” he says, leaning back against the machine, his arms folded over his chest. Before she can thank him, he continues, “Do you often sing about bondage down here at three in the morning?”

Delphi nearly chokes.

“I-I wouldn’t say often,” she sputters, her face and neck heating even more. She doesn’t miss the wolfish grin that passes the demon's elegant features. He’s teasing her. And he’s thoroughly enjoying it.

She’s had her fair share of close calls with the eldest of the brothers. He’s tried to kill her twice now, and only just barely missed the second time. But she’s also had a few…tender? (Is that what you'd call them?) Tender moments with him as well. Before he tried to kill her the second time, she felt like they’d actually been making some progress toward some sort of relationship. But this…This is something she hasn’t seen before.

“Not often?” Lucifer hums, shamelessly raking his eyes over her form.

Delphi feels her skin heat everywhere his gaze lingers, Asmo’s pact mark thrumming steadily on her inner thigh. She hopes the Avatar of Lust is asleep and can’t feel her arousal right now. She doesn’t need twenty questions about this later. Though for Asmo she'd dish.

“Hah, no, not often,” she stammers, backing toward the laundry room door, her basket held like a shield in front of her. “I just had some laundry that couldn’t wait. But that’s done now! So I’m just gonna go to bed! Night, Lucifer!”

She quickly makes her escape, scurrying down the hall toward the stairs as Lucifer chuckles. Their human exchange student was too easy to tease.

[moronic-validity]

The Vincent Sinclair’s Boot x Reader Fic

okay so a few notes! 

1) Reader is a trans guy (like your’s truly) 

2) This is smut for the sake of smut, plain and simple.

3) I finished this at 2:30am and I have to be at work at 8. 

This Contains: dubcon/coerced consent, drugs, bdsm, dom vincent, a boot kink, typos, almost murder, masturbation, and car problems! Everything under the cut is 18+!!!

As the temperature gauge crept higher and higher, [y/n] had to kick himself. He had been told to check his oil periodically through the road trip, but more than that, he had always been told to keep an extra thing of 5-20 in his car. Both pieces of advice went in one ear and out the other.

Which left him here, in the middle of nowhere Louisiana, 30 miles shy of Baton Rouge.

The immediate reaction was to get out of his car and scream. Sure, it was near midnight, but there wasn’t anyone nearby, so what was the worst thing that could happen.  The flash of headlights on him and his car answered his question.

Great. Fantastic. Cool.

“Hey, sorry about the yelling,” he called out in the general direction of the headlights. “Any chance you have some 5-20, I’ll be right out of here if you do!”

No response. [y/n] sighed and sat on the hood of his car and watched the car. It was the middle of the night and it was still hotter than hell and humid to match. Without giving it much thought, he pulled his t shirt over his head and sat it on the hood next to him. What did it matter, he had a binder on anyway. Not like anything was showing.

The mystery driver flashed his brights at [y/n], then threw it in reverse and went back to where he came from.

Well that’s fantastic. I’m in the middle of nowhere and someone knows I’m stranded here. Perfect.

Without giving any more thought to it, he got back into his car and went to sleep, his t shirt thrown over his eyes.

The sun didn’t wake him up, the tapping on his window did.

[y/n] scrambled into an acceptable position and pulled his still damp t shirt on. Once his eyes adjusted to the light, he was able to see the man standing near his window. The man wasn’t intimidating or anything, but the situation was odd and [y/n] was immediately warry.

“Sorry ‘bout that, didn mean to startle ya or nothin,” The man with the green hat said with a small laugh, “it just looked like ya might need some help, most people don like sleepin in their car this time a year.”

[y/n] squinted at the guy. It wasn’t due to the accent or the look of him, the sun just happened to be right in his eyes. The perfect start to another fantastic day.

“Uh yeah, I’ve definitely had better days. Any chance you know where to get a quart or two of oil?” He asked, ending it with a still tired yawn.

“I could give ya a lift into town, ‘m sure Bo will help you out at the station,” The green hatted man offered helpfully.

“Actually, that’d be wonderful, thank you…” [y/n] realized that he just accepted a ride from a man who’s name he didn’t even know. His mother would be so proud.

“Lester, Lester Sinclair,” Lester said with an extended hand.

“[y/n], [y/n] [l/n]” He took the other’s hand and gave a firm shake. [y/n] was acutely aware of the tacky reddish-brown smudge that was now on his hand.

The ride into town was quite, aside from the rumble of Lester’s truck and the sound of tires throwing rock.

“So where’re you headed?” Lester asked, glancing over at [y/n].

“Ah, no direction, wanted to go up, down, coast to coast. Want to see a little bit of everything, I guess,” [y/n] picked at the skin around his index finger, “I’ve only broken down once, so I figure I’m doing okay.”

“Welcome to Ambrose, I know it probably isn where ya wanted t’ go, but there are worse places.” Lester said cheerfully.

The ride went back to being quiet.

“Oh shit,” Lester whined, more to himself than anything else, as he threw the car in park and jumped out, “ya wouldn’ mind givin me a hand flipping the hubs, would ya?”

What the hell does that even mean? {y/n] thought to himself as he hopped out of the car to help Lester with the task anyway. Help was a bit of a strong word for what [y/n] did, it was more get in the way and offer moral support. Lester appreciated the gesture and the company. Most people jumped out of the car and fled into town by this point.

The two got back into the truck and drove right on into Ambrose and parked in front of the service station.

“Now, you wait here, Bo ‘ll be ‘round soon,” Lester dropped [y/n] off with a wave then drove off to wherever he worked. It occurred to [y/n] that he never thought to ask.

It also occurred to [y/n] that he’d have to walk back to his car or hope that someone in town would be willing to give him a ride. Just one more thing. He sighed and sat with his back against the wall of the station.

At least there’s shade. It’s already starting to feel like the devil’s armpit, but at least there is shade.

Time passed, could’ve been hours, could’ve been minutes.

No, it was definitely hours.

Around the point [y/n] was sure that this Bo guy would have to pry him off the cement with a spatula, Bo happened to come down the road and up to the door of the station, near where he was sitting. Bo stood within arm’s distance as [y/n] pushed himself up off the sidewalk.

“I take it you’re Bo? [Y/n] [l/n], Lester said you might have some oil?” [y/n] offered the man he assumed to be Bo his hand. Bo flashed [y/n] a smile that seemed to try to hard to be charming.

“Well, I’d introduce myself but you already know who I am,” Bo chuckled. He was in a suit and tie, didn’t seem like he was dressed for his line of work. “ Let’s see if we can’t get you back on the road, hm?” He hummed to himself as he unlocked the door to let the two men into the store.

There was no AC, and that was the first problem [y/n] had with the station. The second problem was that there appeared to be no oil. Anywhere.

What type of station doesn’t carry oil. Oil. OIL. Walmart carries oil, DG carries oil. Why does this man not have oil.

“Uh….Hey Bo, any chance you have some oil in the garage that you’re willing to part with?” [y/n] asked, while squatting and looking at another shelf devoid of oil.

“I’m sure I could check,” Bo said, his voice drifting further away. [y/n] kept looking.

“So I’ve got some bad news, I don’t have any oil down here;” ,” Bo said as he re-entered the store, wiping his hands down on a grease rag, “Good news though, I got my restock shipment in yesterday and just haven’t gotten around to bringing it down from the house. I’m more than willing to let you wait here while I go up to to get what you need, but you look like you need something to drink.”

[y/n] thought it over. This would mark the second time in less than 24 hours that he went somewhere with a random stranger, but at least this time he knew the guy’s name.

Well, the south is known for its hospitality, so I might as well go and get something to drink.

“I’d really appreciate something to drink and thank you so much for the help,” [y/n] said, suddenly aware that his mouth felt like it was full of glue.

The pair were about halfway to the house, when [y/n] finally felt the need to ask about the suit.

“Okay so, I know it’s absolutely none of my business, but why are you wearing a suit? Isn’t it a bit hot for that?” Bo stopped moving at [y/n]’s question and seemed to consider a few possible answers before he nodded to himself and kept walking.

“Well, it’s not the heat that gets you, it’s the humidity,” he chuckled to himself, “and uh,” he paused to clear his throat, “My mom passed on, was at her service.”

“Bo, I am so sorry. If you don’t mind, I’ll be sure to pay my respects before I leave town,” [y/n] couldn’t help but feel intense sympathy for Bo.

He left his mom’s funeral to help me get some oil so I can get back on the road. Holy shit.

They walked in silence for the rest of the day, [y/n] was unsure how to comfort this stranger, so he just followed the other man’s lead. Silence.

Bo unlocked the door when they got up on the step and lead [y/n] into the house.

“Washroom is down the hall if you need it, the door should be open,” Bo motioned towards the washroom, “Make yourself at home.”  

With that, Bo was in the kitchen, pouring two glasses of sweet tea. [y/n] decided to take Bo up on his offer of a washroom. Once the door was shut, he fought with his binder for a minute, before finally getting it off his chest, letting it hang loosely around his neck. At this point, it just felt good to take a few deep breaths. After a few minutes passed, [y/n] pulled his binder back into place, swore he’d keep it off until he hit the next rest stop, then went back out into the house and met Bo in the kitchen.

Bo handed [y/n] the glass of sweet tea, condensation already beading on the sides. Nice and cold and incredibly sweet, it even tasted southern. And a bit salty. [y/n] had never had homemade sweet tea before, so he assumed that maybe that just happened sometimes with the tea when it cooled.

The room started to sway.

“Hey, [y/n] maybe you should sit down, looks like the heat is getting to you,” Bo said, worry in his voice, but a smile on his lips, “maybe you ought to lay down for a bit.”

Not a bad idea. Not a bad idea at all.

That was weird, he tried to say it out loud, but his mouth didn’t seem to want to cooperate. Bo helped [y/n] to sit on the couch and as his vision started to darken, [y/n] swore he saw another person enter the room.

When [y/n] came to, he realized a few things in short order. It was much darker, he was not on the couch, and he was restrained to the metal table he way laying on. Ever the optimist, he was thankful for the fact that he still had his clothes on and also for the fact it was much cooler wherever he was.

A tall man with long dark hair entered his line of sight. [y/n] had a few ideas of things to yell at him, but instead, took a different approach.

“So, either I’ve been asleep for a really long time, or you’re not Bo,” [y/n] said, turning his head to get a better look at the man. The man’s shoulders shook, like he was laughing without the noise.

Okay so he can’t talk. Noted.

The man turned around to face the table and made sure his hands were in clear view as he signed, “Vincent.”

The motions were smooth and [y/n] caught it near immediately.

“Vincent is a nice name,” he mused, giving Vincent a charming smile of his own, “I’m [y/n]. Now, I do have a few questions, mainly, why am I tied up?”

Vincent turned his back on [y/n] and went back to preparing the paralytic, deciding to make it a bit stronger so the man on the table wouldn’t have to be awake for the worst of it. When he turned around and [y/n] saw the needle, the reality of the situation began to sink in and things snapped into focus.

“Hey Vincent, I don’t know what’s in that needle, but I promise you don’t have to do whatever it is you’re about to do,” [y/n] tried to keep his voice level as he squirmed and fought against the restraints, “I know we don’t know each other, but I swear you don’t need to do this.”

Vincent watched him writhe on the table and considered his options.

“Please, can we talk this out, please,” [y/n] continued to beg, tears forming in the corners of his eyes and bruises already forming at both his wrists and his ankles from the jerking around. Desperation in one hell of a drug, because in no other situation could [y/n] see himself saying, “I’ll do anything to convince you.”

Vincent set the syringe back down and walked up to the head of the table and gripped [y/n]’s jaw and turned his head to make sure he saw when he signed “Are you sure?” he drew it out to emphasize the importance of the question.

Was [y/n] sure? No. No he wasn’t, but he wasn’t in a place that allowed many options. Behind door one? Death! Behind door two? A questionable fate that could very well still end in death!

Yeah, I’ll go with door number two, please.

[y/n] nodded, Vincent’s hand still not leaving his jaw.

Vincent considered the situation for a moment. He considered the number of girls that Bo had brought to him after he had had his way with them at the station. Girls had never really been Vincent’s speed.  There were plenty of attractive guys who had come through, but mostly they were either already dead or just spit curses at him. [y/n] was different. No threats, no insults, he was shockingly calm, all things considered. Vincent stroked up and down the side of [y/n]’s face, bringing his hand into the smaller man’s hair and pulling, eliciting a soft whimper.

“I want you to show me,” Vincent signed before undoing the restraints at [y/n]’s ankles. As for his hands? His hands were going to stay bound, but a change of position was still needed. Vincent kept eye contact with [y/n] as he undid his wrists.

[y/n] sat up on the table, moving slowly as to not startle Vincent. The last thing he wanted was to scare the guy who probably had a half dozen ways to kill him in arms reach. His wrists ached and were bleeding in some places. He rubbed at his sore joints before Vincent snapped his fingers, pointed directly at him, then down at the floor near his boot clad feet.

[y/n] had the opportunity to make a run for it, but instead knelt at Vincent’s feet. Vincent put his hand out and without thinking, [y/n] rested the side of his face against it. Vincent’s face burned beneath his mask, that was not what he needed the man to do. He pulled his hand away and gently slapped at the kneeling man’s face, not hard enough to hurt him, but hard enough for him to know that that was not the desired action. The kneeling man was a quick learner and when Vincent put his hand out again, he reluctantly placed his wrists in the larger man’s hands.

[y/n] was not thrilled at this situation, but he was also a simple man, and for all the terror in the situation, Vincent was a large man with shockingly soft hands that were big enough to envelop both of his wrists, who had complete control over the situation. Should he be getting wet due to the situation? Absolutely not, but in the one psychology class he took in high school, it was mentioned that fear and arousal were close together in the brain.

Vincent saw the bruising and blood on the smaller man’s wrists and was careful when he rebound them. Sure, he was planning on killing the guy, but his plans had changed. He threaded a rope and carefully suspended his wrists so that his wrists would remain above his head.

[y/n]’s first thought was that Vincent wanted head. Most guys he had met enjoyed getting head, so it did make sense. He carefully pressed his cheek against the man’s crotch and nuzzled against it, then looked up and into Vincent’s eyes for any sign. Instead, Vincent just lifted his knee and pushed [y/n] off of him like he was a disobedient dog.

A thousand thoughts raced through his mind as to what he wanted, if not a blow job. He was further confused when Vincent lifted his boot clad foot and pressed it into the smaller man’s pelvic bone, hard.

Oh.

The pressure of it was enough to lift him up just a little bit more and it had him wetter than he thought he could be in a situation like this. He pressed down onto the shoe and began to grind against it, shamelessly chasing the friction it created.

Vincent groaned. His cock twitched as he watched the man’s lewd display. He didn’t want [y/n] to touch him, not yet. There was still the chance that could go horribly wrong, what Vincent wanted was to see exactly how desperate the man was. Vincent began to palm himself, stroking through the fabric of his pants while he watched.

The answer was very. [y/n] was very desperate. [y/n] was desperate not to die and now, now he was also desperate to cum. He pressed himself harder against the toe of Vincent’s boot and rutted against it, groaning loudly when it pressed up against that bundle of nerves. He began to fall into a rhythm that hit every sensitive spot he could reach.

Vincent’s hand was now in his pants as he stroked himself to the same rhythm [y/n] was fucking himself to. God,  Vincent thought to himself, this man was making an absolute whore of himself. It might not be a bad idea to keep him around. Could make work slightly less taxing. Then the bound man made a sound that snapped Vincent out of his thoughts and almost made him cream his pants.

He was getting so close, he had thrown himself so into chasing his high that he almost forgot that the circumstances that brought him to this were less than desirable. He pressed began to rotate his hips so that bundle of nerves caught significantly more pressure and more friction. He let out a loud, needy whine.

“Please Vincent, please tell me I can cum, I’ve been such a good boy, please God, Vincent,” the words came tumbling out of his mouth, he was babbling and begging for a different release now. Vincent bucked into his own hand, listening to the whines and pleas.

Tears were starting to form in [y/n]’s eyes again, he was trying so hard to be good for Vincent, trying so hard to be his good boy. Sure, less than an hour ago, he wanted nothing more than to be as far from him as possible, but God, he was so close to cumming and he just needed Vincent to tell him he had been good. Hadn’t he been good enough to deserve release?

Vincent pressed his crotch against [y/n]’s face and continued to jack himself off. He didn’t want the man’s mouth, but he wanted the proximity. He was so close to his own release. So so close, all he needed was-

“Oh GOD, sir please, I’ve been so good for you, please sir. Tell me I’ve been a good boy for you, tell me I’m your good boy, please sir; oh my God, please, please,” [y/n] continued to babble, now crying for release against Vincent’s aching cock.

Yeah, that just about did it for him. Vincent’s orgasm took him hard and left a sizable stain that leaked into the front of his pants and against the begging man’s face. Vincent closed his eyes, lost in his own release. When things snapped back into focus, he realized the other man was still whining pitifully, still having not came.

Vincent had to admit, he was impressed at the man’s willpower, it was oddly attractive to him that the man refused to grant himself pleasure without permission. This could actually work out wonderfully, Vincent thought to himself.

He took the rope in his free hand and yanked on it hard enough to knock the [y/n] off balance. He looked up at Vincent as he tried to regain balance. Vincent let go of the rope and let him drop onto his knees, but his eyes were still locked on his masked face.

Vincent thought about it for a moment before signing “I want you to cum.”

That was all [y/n] needed to hear before going back to rutting against the shoe, quickly going over the edge and coating the toe of the boot in his fluids. He braced himself against Vincent’s leg, mumbling thank yous as he came back down. Vincent allowed this to go on for a short while, before cutting the rope and pressing [y/n]’s face down to the still wet boot.

Vincent used one hand to yank [y/n]’s hair to make the blissed out man look up at him, with the other hand, he calmly signed “Clean it up.”

[aka-a-shii]

Day Out || Akaashi K.

Akaashi x F!Reader

genre: fluff

warnings: nothing just fluffiness :3

a/n: i am so sorry that this took so long ㅠㅠㅠㅠ i had been caught up with work and studying but here’s the last piece for the Oya Oya Dads Squad. i hope you love and enjoy this one.. thank you for your patience! 😘

the sun rays peeked through the blinds illuminating Akaashi’s peaceful sleeping face, you slowly bent over to his side and planted a soft kiss onto his cheek.

“wake up, sleepyhead”

Akaashi groaned in response as his eyes started to flutter open. he squints his eyes as the sunlight reflected on his gunmetal blue orbs.

“good morning, angel.” he greeted huskily as sleep still evident in his voice.

you gently press a kiss on his lips as he smiled thru the kiss.

“why are you still here? isn’t your appointment by 9am?” he inquired when he pulled away as his eyes landed on the clock at the bedside table indicating its already 8:30am.

you smiled at him. “Keita was kinda cranky when he woke up earlier so i had to tuck him back to bed again.”

he got up from the bed and wrapped his arms around you, his hands resting on your baby bump.

“you should go now or you will be late.” he stated. you gently placed your hand above his as you reached your free hand to ruffle his hair.

“will you be okay without me?” you asked.

he tightened his hold onto you and nuzzled his face onto the crook of your neck. “of course, princess. so don’t worry and just relax.” Akaashi reassures you.

he walks you to the front door and with a final hug and a gentle kiss on your lips, you left for your appointment.

Akaashi then trotted towards the kitchen to make breakfast for him and keita, he wore his midnight blue apron and reached for the ingredients from the pantry.

he was mixing the batter when he heard little padding of footsteps towards the kitchen, when he turned around, he saw his 4y/o toddler clutching his owl blankie on one hand and his owl plushie on the other.

“good morning, bud! you hungry?” he greets his son.

Keita gently nodded as he rubbed sleep from his eyes. “where’s mommy?” he asked.

“mommy went out to see the doctor.” Akaashi replied as he mixed the batter. he was then responded with silence and when he turned to face his son, he was met by keita’s glassy eyes.

“i-is mommy sick?” his voice almost cracking. Akaashi then turned the stove off and rushed towards the boy and scooped him up. “sshhh don’t cry.” he wiped the tears on his son’s cheek. “mommy is not sick, okay? she just went for a check up to see if the baby is growing healthy in her tummy.” he shushed his son.

“m-mommy and the b-baby will be o-okay?” he sniffled against his dad’s chest. “yes of course! mommy and baby are strong.” Akaashi reassures him.

once he had calmed down, he placed him on his chair and ruffled his hair. “why don’t we eat breakfast first then we’ll go meet mommy later?” Keita nodded enthusiastically in response as Akaashi went back to finishing the pancakes.

—

they happily munched on their breakfast, basking with each other’s presence as they planned their trip for later. Keita being excited to go out on a day-out with his dad after so long.

Keita was Akaashi’s pride and joy. he was so ecstatic when you came home one day with the news of being pregnant with your first child. as keita grew, Akaashi had already thought about having a second child which is why baby number two is on its way. Akaashi himself knew that being an only child is somewhat lonely and he doesn’t want Keita to feel the same as he grow older.

after getting ready, Akaashi finally adjusted Keita’s owl hat and headed out of your humble abode.

“where do you wanna go first?” Akaashi asked as he placed Keita on the car seat at the back of his car.

your son looked so enthralled as he spoke with enthusiasm. “bookstore!”

Akaashi lets out a chuckle and ruffle his son’s hair. “okay buddy.”

the drive to the bookstore was short yet the father and son duo enjoyed every bit of it. and as Akaashi led his son inside, he didn’t missed how sparkles on Keita’s eyes glistened at awe. “daddy! books! lots of them!” he excitedly grabbed his father’s sleeve as he pulled him to the children’s books section.

Keita got his love for books from Akaashi and its not the only thing he got from him. he was exactly the splitting image of Akaashi Keiji, from the gunmetal blue eyes, to the messy jet black hair and even the little mannerism of fidgeting his fingers when anxious. all good genes inherited from Akaashi.

they stopped in front of one of the bookshelves and keita took a book. he showed it to his dad with stars emitting from his eyes that definitely matches his dad’s. “do you want to get that one?” Akaashi asked and Keita nods furiously. “don’t you want more?” he added and keita just shook his head and gazed on the book he’s holding. “i just want this one daddy!” he beamed. the book keita took was a picture book of “The Little Prince”, you personal favorite. and at an early age, Keita had begun reading as one of his past time activities. you would tell him the story from hours to end and it never fails to amaze him. which is why he grew to love the story of “The Little Prince” as well.

as soon as Akaashi took the book, they roamed each aisle in the bookstore, scanning some new releases that might caught your husband’s liking. and when he found a book they went to the cashier and paid for their purchase. the old lady behind the cashier took notice that Akaashi brought his son. “he looks exactly just like you.” she commented and handed him their books. “he surely does!” he replied with a big smile on his face and took their books. the both of them bid their goodbyes to the old lady and headed to their final stop to meet you.

its was a warm and cozy cafe where you and Akaashi had your first date during highschool. the place held so many memories with you and your husband, and now with your little family. they settled on a booth near the window where your regular spot is. Akaashi sipping his coffee as Keita downed his blueberry crepes. the chiming bells caught their attention as you made your way into the cafe. waddling with your 5-month belly to their booth, Akaashi immediately stood up and guided you, placing a kiss on top of your head. “how was the check up?” he inquired and sat you on the chair besides his. “the doctor said she’s growing healthy and we have nothing to worry about.” you reached for Keita’s hair and ruffled it. “she also said that i just need to continue taking the supplements for the both of us.”

Akaashi smiled at that. “that’s good to hear.” and he rubbed your belly gently. turning your attention to your son, you asked him how his day went with his dad. “daddy bought me a book! let’s read it when we get home mommy!” he excitedly stated. “read it to me and my baby sister!” and that made the baby girl in your tummy to kick which made you jolt for a second. Akaashi noticed this and asked you if you’re okay. “the baby kicked!” you said and immediately the worry washing away from your husband’s handsome face. Keita jumped out from his seat and rushed towards you. “mommy are you okay?” concern all over his face. you reassured him you were and that his sister just moved in your tummy.

you gently reached for his tiny hand and placed it on your belly where his baby sisster kicked. and with that, the baby in you kicked again and Keita definitely felt it on how his eyes widened as a big smile plastered over his face. “the baby is moving!” he exclaimed. which made you and Akaashi to laugh.

Akaashi stood up and volunteered to order for you, while you and Keita stayed and continued to talk about their trip to the bookstore. Keta told you about the nice old lady back there who was so nice to him and how he is really excited to read the book with you when you get home. despite being the splitting image of your husband, Keita’s personality was more like you, bright and jolly, but sometimes he also act like his father which makes him a mixture of you both.

Akaashi approaches your booth with a tray in his hands, a cup of chai tea and a slice of blueberry cheesecake just like you wanted. you muttered a thanks as he slides back to his his seat enjoying the company of his two most favorite persons in the world. a smile grazing his handsome features as he gazed lovingly at the two of you, slowly he reached for your and gently stroke the wedding band adorning your finger. oh how lucky he was to be your husband he thought, and he can’t help the swelling of his when you locked eyes with him and smiled back at him. he would never exchange anything in this world for what he has now and what the future holds for him and his little family.

Akaashi mouthed a soft “i love you” and held your hand tighter, reciprocating his gestture, you then gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“i love you too.”

you and Keita is his universe that he’s ever grateful to have.

Taglist: @whootwhoot @tsvvkki @mirikusashes @curiouslilbeast @saku-kun @chesley-cant-deal @clara-geekhime @michelepiekenma @raineedayze @kellesvt @lollypop-lam @kyomihann @doodleniella @akasuns

strikethrough = can’t be tagged

[dracosaurusrex]

Chasing His Sun

Part 4 to Notebook!

Summary: Where Y/N tries to take her mind off of a certain Slytherin, only to have it backfire.

Pairing: Draco x Gryffindor!reader

A/N: Doesn’t a day spent in Hogsmeade sound fun? I got cravings for chocolate while writing this. Honestly tho, I threw up this entire chapter. I certainly hope you enjoy it, pero lyke I’m just going to let my imagination roam free at this point. I would really appreciate your feedback!! <3

Your eyes opened upon the feeling of sunlight hitting your face. Hints of orange and yellow that scattered through a blanketed, cloudy sky indicated to you that it was still early. You took in the peace that emitted through the sounds of birds chirping and felt at ease. It was a beautiful Saturday morning. You looked around your room, feeling groggy, as you recalled the incident that occured the night before. Piercing eyes, a teasing smile--a blush rose to your face as the embarrassment filled you up once again. You had no time to process what happened, because as soon as you met your bed, you knocked out. With the scenario now settling in, all you wanted to do was bury yourself in your grave.

‘The notebook. Oh shoot. Where’s the notebook?’ Your eyes widened when you realized that you had fallen asleep with it in your grasp, out in the open, where Hermione and Ginny could see it easily. With your heart racing and hands moving in a panic, you frantically shot up from your sheets, hoping that you haven’t been caught. You locate the notebook under your pillow and release a huge breath of relief as you hold it near to your chest. Not wanting to suffer another scare, you placed it into your bag.

“Y/N, are you up already?” Hermione asks. She must’ve woken up from the commotion that you just caused. Sleep was still visible from her eyes.

You chuckled nervously, “Yes I am. It’s a beautiful morning and I can’t seem to go back to sleep.” 

“We’re going to Hogsmeade today…” She starts off, “Would you like to join us? We leave at 10.” She lifts herself slightly from her bed to look at you with eyes half opened.

“Yea, I’d love to. I need to pick up a few things also.” You reply. In response, she gives you a tired thumbs up and drops herself back into her pillow.

Since there wasn’t much sleep left inside of you, you decided to get ready. The cold air from your window prompted you to bundle up. As you dress into something comfortable, your mind drifts back to the incident with Draco. Warmth took over after remembering what he had said in response to your little incantations.

‘Why did he say that?’ Yesterday was a whirlwind for your heart. How was it possible to keep your emotions in check when everything that happened gave you sparks of hope and longing? You thought back to potions, to the notebook, and to the encounter. There was no way, right? Would a guy, who held much pride for his house, develop feelings for a random girl in Gryffindor? You weren’t sure. Your heart leaned toward that possibility, but your mind wanted to set itself on the opposing side. All you knew now was that you had to avoid him at all costs. 

You glanced up at the clock hanging on the wall. It was now 8:30AM, and your two roommates were beginning to stir from their sleep. Having been done preparing for about ten minutes now, you decide to gather your things and pick up breakfast, ready to start the day ahead of you.

--------------------------------------------------

You, Hermione, and Ginny stepped foot into Hogsmeade. Despite the grey clouds that covered the skies, you took delight in the small peaks of sunshine, which was joint with the cool breezes that blew through your hair. The cold, although nipping on your nose, evoked a warm feeling in your chest. Autumn was the best season.

The small town was filled with numerous shops. It wasn’t as plentiful as Diagon Alley, but its coziness added to its charm. You followed your friends as they explored Zonko’s Joke Shop and Honeydukes. The prior was too loud for your taste, so you opted to wait outside for the two girls. However, time spent in latter was always good fun. You admired the confections from the window, and excitedly went inside. The sweet aromas that flitted the shop draw a memory from the back of your mind.

In connection to the interactions that you had with Draco the day before, you can’t help but recall the first time you ever had a real conversation with him. How his affections caught you off guard. How it caused your heart rate to speed up numerously within one sitting. How you realized that he wasn’t as bad as others make him out to be. He was actually quite sweet in contrast to his typical personality. There weren’t chocolate chip cookies available in Honeydukes, but the goods made you think of him with much fondness as the coziness that you initially felt in your heart spread even more. 

You examined the sweets that were arranged neatly on their respective racks, picking out several bags of chocolate frogs in contentment. ‘I wonder if Draco likes chocolate frogs.’ you thought. After scanning the shelves for a few more minutes, you came across peppermint toads. ‘Draco, oddly enough, smells like mint. His behavior also reminds me of a toad.’ You laugh at the thought and keep an inward smile stuck to your face. He wasn’t around you, yet the thought of him weighed a huge deal in your heart. Not that you didn’t mind it. 

You added the packs of toads into your little basket. ‘Maybe he’d like some too.’ You thought. 

Happy with your selections, you bounded to the front counter to pay. You weren’t aware of how much time you spent in the store, because you totally lost track of Hermione and Ginny. They were nowhere in sight, and now you were left alone. You stashed your purchases in your bag and waved the shop owner goodbye. Once you stepped outside of the shop you scouted out for your friends. You stared at your surroundings with your eyebrows furrowed, only to have your attention to be stolen by the sound of a very shrill laughter. 

Off in a distance, you see a mop of platinum blonde hair. Draco stood with his hands wrapped around his waist. He sported a sleek outfit, clad in black, which was emphasized by the rings that adorned his fingers. The cold air made the flush of red more apparent on his cheeks. Furthermore, the way his laughter escaped his lips gave life to the butterflies in your stomach. You made it firm to yourself that you were trying to avoid him, and yet the universe decided against that. 

Draco felt your eyes burrow into the back of his head, causing him to turn to your direction. He had stopped laughing at this point when you came into his sight. The way the sun seemed to act as a spot light to you caused his heart to flutter. You weren’t even dressed in clothes that would be considered eye-catching, but to him, you were just that: The apple of his eye. He remembered the way you called his name, how you emphasized every syllable. Your voice seemed to give his name meaning and it made him genuinely happy.

You on the other hand still couldn’t bear the thought of him catching you swooning over his name. It was embarrassing to have been caught in your own feels--a moment that was only meant for you. You broke off the eye contact that was held between the both of you and walked in the other direction. Hoping that he wouldn’t attempt to follow you, you made your way to Scrivenshaft’s Quill Shop, your ultimate favorite.

Draco’s line of sight followed you. He was driven by the thought of seeing you again. The way the sun hit you, the way you smiled warmly at him, the image of you so focused and wrapped up in your own affairs elicited such a huge surplus of emotions from him. You didn’t have to do much to get his attention. He was extremely enamored by the thought of you.

“Hey you guys. I have to run some errands. I’ll go meet you at Three Broomsticks.” He announced.

“Let me go with you!” Exclaimed an excited Pansy.

Draco sternly gazed at her, “No. I want to be left alone.” Coldness was laced within his words with efforts of pushing her away. It worked as she was seen dejectedly turning to Crabbe, Goyle, and Blaise. The boy continued to make his way through a crowd of people, his head turning from side to side with hopes to catch you alone once again. He peered carefully into a number of stores, often throwing a second glance just to make sure he didn’t miss you. His heart was beginning to pick up its pace as his concentration solely focused on finding you.

As if the sun was listening to his thoughts, light was casted to your figure in the small stationary shop the same way it had the first time you spoke in the library. Draco stopped dead in his tracks, breath hitched once he saw you. He couldn’t describe the reason why you made him feel the way he did. You looked so unreal. You seemed so unreal. You weren’t even aware of how beautiful you looked at this very moment, and you didn’t even need to make an effort to do so. 

From the very first moment you shared up until now, interactions were limited and minimal, but Draco couldn’t deny the pull no matter how much he tried. The image of you smiling under the sun was something he knew he wanted in his life. If the ambitious traits of Slytherin took form, it would embody this very moment: Not wanting to lose you again, he stepped forth into the shop.

He delicately pushed the door forward. The shop itself was quite inside and smelled of parchment and old books. He didn’t want to catch your attention right away, so he roamed through the aisles quietly, keeping close sight of you. You were excitedly examining quills on display, testing them out with a satisfied expression on your face. You thought it might’ve been weird to others, but you absolutely loved stationary.

Draco witnessed as your eyes glimmered at the sight of shelves filled with journals that resembled his. They were neatly arranged by color, starting from shades of reds and blues on the bottom shelves, and greens and yellows on the top. You ran your fingers across the spines, and stopped once you were met with the green journals. The top shelves were a little bit beyond your reach, requiring you to step on your tiptoes in order to snag one. Proving to have a tough time, you placed your items on the side so that you’d have more access. However, the struggle to obtain a green journal remained. Your body was stretched, your arms were extended to its full length, and your calves were starting to burn. Having enough of a delight in seeing your effort, Draco quietly made his way to you without you noticing. 

Your focus was still extremely concentrated on the object until it was broken by the feeling of a warm breath hitting the back of your neck. Your eyes widened. You saw a black arm extend from behind you, grabbing the green notebook with ease. Startled, you jolt backwards, hitting Draco’s chest with your back. As you turned to see who your mystery helper was, a free hand held your arm, stabilizing you and preventing you from falling over.  Your eyes were met with Draco’s silvery orbs, the distance between your bodies was minimal. His gaze was intense, and it excited you inside. Suddenly, a child came passing through the aisles, causing you to push your back against the shelf and enclosing you between Draco’s arms.

Realizing the position you were in, you couldn’t help but draw your stare away from his eyes. The closeness made it all the more intimate, and a blush threatened to grace your face. Hearts were racing at a hundred miles per hour at this point.

You heard Draco curse under his breath, “Idiotic child.”  

You chuckled, still trapped against the wall. The sound of your laughter garnered the attention of the boy as he turned his head to your direction. You didn’t realize how tall he was until this moment. You looked up, sucking your lips in to hide the smile that had already formed.

You grinned at him, “Nice seeing you here, Malfoy.” 

Draco cleared his throat and straightened his posture. After taking a good look at your small figure beneath him, he spoke, “Pleasure’s all mine, darling.” His face was graced with a smirk. You felt heat rise within you as the unfamiliar nickname--that directed towards you--rolled off his tongue.

“Is this the journal you were looking for? It looks awfully similar to mine.” With a huff, you tried reaching out for it, only for it to be raised well above your head. 

“Damn you and your long arms!” He only laughed. You tried to create a mad expression, but you couldn’t hide your smile. Draco’s actions kept taunting you as you jumped desperately to take the notebook out of his grasp. 

“What do you want from me!?” Your blush was already so apparent, and your hair was disheveled.

“‘What do I want?’ You ask?” Draco stopped moving and dropped his arms to his sides. Noticing how some hair strands covered your face, he reached out to you and pulled them behind your ear. Your eyes followed his movements and went back to his face. His expression turned serious as he handed the notebook to you. He began to scan your face before leaning into you. You subconsciously pressed yourself further into the shelf. You could feel his breath tease your ear.

He whispered, “Spend this day with me.” 

You were so flustered at this point, you didn’t even bother to say no. The intention of avoiding him was thrown out the window as your attempts to do so were ultimately deemed futile. The effect this boy had on you was indescribable.

Draco bent down to your level and smirked, “I’ll wait for you outside.”

A/N: I’m really grateful for all the support you all have given me! Seeing you all happy makes me happy also. I hope you have a great day!

PS. Feel free to talk to me! With that being said, should I open up requests?

Taglist: @m-winchester-67 @bbeauttyybbx @un-limit-edd @poetontheblock @tttyrus @stretchyice  @vaeonshi

Here’s Part 3!

[speedypandaweasel]

Change of Plans - A Yancy x Neutral! Reader

❤ REBLOGS WOULD BE APPRECIATED ❤

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 MASTERLIST

Where we left off:

So much for a lie in. You slowly rose from the cocoon of warmth you had made for yourself and you felt your toes wriggle up the bed and hiss at the exposed coldness of the room. Dragging yourself out of subconsciousness, your eyes finally decided to greet the grey interior and the black-barred window that perched just out of your arms reach. Why would they put such a tiny window if they didn’t want anyone to look out of it? Pretty pathetic actually. The Penitentiary really needed to repaint the bars, some of the black paint had flaked onto your pillow whilst you were sleeping.

You sat up, a little too quickly, and a cold, hard sensation hit the top of your body. Well good morning to you too World.

The unbearable ringing continued as you brought your arm down onto the squawking alarm clock. The room fell into a comfortable silence once more. 7:30am, not too bad, yet it could have been a little longer. Yet it was as if someone decided to balance a massive book on “how to not have a headache” on your already sore head. You’d ask Boggs for some paracetamol, or maybe some Ibuprofen as you tried to ponder on what did you do to deserve this...

~ Chapter 5 ~

MatchBox Analysis - 2.3K Words

"I'm here to speak to Officer Boggs." You timidly spoke, playing with the hem of your shirt. The man that towered in the small door frame in front of you was the most intimidating of all: Officer Rexx.

There were rumours about him that were too obscure and dangerous to mention twice, You only happen to hear about them when you overheard a couple of prisoners talking about "the anniversary" of how he lost his previous job, whatever that meant. To be frank, you didn't want to know about whatever hell hole he wriggled out of and treaded on eggshells around him, even if you weren't speaking to him. Something about that man caused you to feel insecure about something that you couldn't point your finger at, but there was no doubt that it was there.

"Yeah, he's in here." He paused for a moment. "You're one of the newer ones around here, aren't you? I've seen you around but never had the pleasure to meet."

He stuck out his grubby hand, his sausage fingers extended shortly at you, waiting for you to touch them. You grimaced before wiping that expression off your face. Rule 1: Never acknowledge the fingers.

You stuck out your hand bravely and shook his greasy one. His strong grip tightened around your knuckles as he shook hard, almost breaking your frail fingers.

"Well, I'll just go get him. Stay there." He spat. The door firmly closed behind him, the staff room's view blocked once again. You peeped through the mesh windows and managed to decipher the blurred silhouette of the sofa and coffee counter. You backed away as the door swung open again to the familiar face of Officer Boggs, his much shorter height made you relax second by the second.

"Oh hi Y/N, shouldn't you be outside?" He asked before shutting the door behind him, leaving the both of you outside in the wide hallway.

"Well I am, but I forgot to give you this from last night." You replied, planting your hand into your pocket before pulling out the owners key. Boggs let out a chuckle as his rosy cheeks grew even merrier.

"I forgot I gave you this! I'm glad that at least someone doesn't take my naivety for granted" He continued. "I respect that about you."

He unhooked the jingling keys from his beltline and clipped the Cafertiera key on the chain. He had a proud collection of keys to his name - being a veteran member of the Prison, it did have its perks.

"Well thank you, I really appreciate that Boggs. You know, sometimes I don't feel like I fit in here myself." Sounded cliche, you internally facepalmed yourself. Normally you wouldn't be telling this to anyone, but Boggs had been there since forever so it was nice to tell at least someone your true thoughts about staying here.

"Oh now don't think like that, every prisoner when they first come in her feels like that, but don't worry, I'm sure that the others will welcome you soon. Have you tried talking to them? I know you're not the socially inclined person but give it a shot. Who knows? You might actually enjoy their company" He concluded.

When Boggs gave advice, it could go two ways: either it was incredibly awful which ended in bad decisions being drawn from it, or it could be genuinely heartwarming and sincere words of wisdom. Thankfully, this was one of those pieces.

You allowed yourself to run over the speech the superior had just given and smiled. You could spark up a conversation with Yancy, you could ask him about what that poem meant! Maybe that could be the starting point of breaking out of your introverted shell.

"Thanks Boggs, I really do appreciate you." You said, before heading off outside.

"Have fun! But not too much fun, I don't want for you to get hurt!" His yells sounded down the empty corridor.

The mid-day sun blazed down on the steaming concrete, the prisoners having that work-out glow. Yancy had rolled his short sleeves even shorter, exposing his lesser-known tattoos, and his private box was stuffed in his trouser leg conveniently, away from the guard's view. If anyone found out what was in this box..well, it would ruin him.

Racing became tiresome after a couple of hours so the prisoners resorted to lazily running laps around the small quarter, this included the songbird himself.

"I tell's ya T, you wanna stop off for a few minutes? this box is gettin' uncomfortable." He protested, shifting his weight from one foot to another, finding a comfortable spot in his trouser leg.

"Why, you chickening out? Scared that someone will beat your record?" T retorted.

The prisoners slowed to a stop. Yancy regrettably paused his track game and attempted to get his ragged breath back.

"No ya dingus, it's 'cause dis box is scratchin' my skin off! I swear I's bleedin' down my shin by now."

Tiny's retort turned into concern as they pulled over to the side of the quarter. Once out of sight, Yancy slowly rolled his trouser leg up to his shin and took out the small, worn-out box from the bottom of his leg.

"Your leg hasn't been sawed off Yance, but you sure you need to keep it there? You could hurt yourself."

Yancy chortled shortly, not willing to admit that his friend was right. After what happened last time, he was going to learn from his mistakes. He rubbed his fading ankle bruise as he remembered the time he stayed in the medical ward. But the question was: where was he going put the little thing?

His eyes scanned the usual nooks and crannies that he had hid stuff in before, but word somehow got out and now everyone was using them for their secret stashes. Great - so much for having the upper hand.

His eyes continued to look for somewhere to stuff the thing until his ears pricked up on the outside door swinging open. His frustrated face broke into a smile as he saw you walk out timidly, and perching on a weight bench.

"Here, can youse hang on to it for a hot minute, just don't open it alight," He said, his curious eyes never leaving your sight.

Tiny was startled. The Boss never let them hold anything of his, let alone the one thing he persistently never left out of his sight. Tiny slipped the matchbox into their shoe before taking a squat down the brick wall as they watched their mate stride over to the newbie, but chose not to follow suit.

You picked at the seat cushion like it was the most interesting thing ever to you, whilst plucking up the courage to go and talk to the most confident person out here. Your eyes managed to look up. partially blinded from the sun but saw the small huddles of prisoners near the water pitches, walking around, or down by the blind spot. Guards stood at every entrance broadly, letting people in and out of the area, their moist uniforms made you wonder how the hell they managed to keep composure in this heat.

Your moment abruptly came as you saw the man of the hour coming towards you, his wide shoulders fully exposed to the heats rays. You knew he worked but w-w-wow.

"Finally decided to join in the fun eh?" He sprung up the conversation.

Chuckling, you look down, embarrassed and in amusement "And I'm guessing that this is the newest trouser look. Is this asymmetric chic? or is this just you trying to use illusion to become taller?" You threw a double whammy at him.

Yancy's shocked eyes bored into your own mischievous ones for a brisk moment. Suddenly, he exaggeratedly placed a hand on his chest before crumbling to the grass floor. "Oh de pain! I can't bear it anymore! Not another short joke!"

Other people around the quarter edge were starting to laugh along with his flailing and happily applauded when he finished his piece. The cheering and jeering died down as the conversation drifted back to normal, as Yancy dragged his trouser leg down and sidled up next to you and he bumped his hard shoulder next to yours.

"What a Drama Queen." You continued, letting out a small smile.

"What can I's say, I got's to get ma training in somewhere." He replied "So how's it been with you? Finish dat book yet?"

It was as if he read your mind! The topic of the poetry book caught your attention as you chipped away at your social shell. "Uh, not yet, but I did want to ask you a couple of questions about poem 19. You know, the one you recommended I read?"

The prisoner stretched his arms and placed them behind himself. "Oh yeah! It's one of ma favourites! I personally thinks its about de good and bad sides to love and once you've actually caught feelings for someone, it pains you to do things dat even surprise yaself. Youse got me?"

You would have never known that Yancy had a passion for literature, just listening to him made you even more dedicated to spending time with him. Boggs was right with his advice, it didn't bruise your ego that bad to socialise with new people, as it made you question what other things the man had up it sleeve - or trouser leg.

You rephrased yourself, "Ok then Yance, do you read poems often then?" your feet started to dance around the grassy floor, flattening pieces of green.

"So do you analyse poems often then Yancy?"

The man interrupted you "Oh please, call me Yance, only the big dog calls me Yancy."

"I used to when I was a youngin', my family hads a nice library ya see. Dey's had Shakespeare, Jane Austen, and some oder authors I can't remember but when youse a fabulous actor like myself, you gotta keep up ya noggin' in check." He smiled and looked out onto the busy area, almost reminiscing about his past life.

He never liked to bring up the subject of his past but when Yacny was with you, it felt- right. To finally talk about childhood memories and just laugh about them, instead of it always being dragged back to the soul reason why he was locked up at Happy Trails in the first place.

His strong arm planted on the side of your small shoulder as he gave you a tight squeeze. "How about youse? Do you read?"

"I-Uh... I"

Words formed in your mouth, yet your tongue was on holiday, not responding to any sentence your brain was throwing at you. Butterflies were born in your stomach as your face started to feel warm, too warm for your liking. What was happening? Were you having sunstroke!?

"Youse ok? Ya looking a little warm d'ere" Yancy said, dropping his arm from your side. "Youse want me to go grab you some water?"

This signalled your tongue to finally come back to work. "Oh. No, I'm fine thanks and yeah, I read, that's what I was going to ask about you actually." You said, forcing confidence.

"No way! Heh, I guess great minds think alike huh?" He replied, grinning his addicting smile. He looked over to where he left Tiny and an idea sprung in his scheming mind. "Hey, youse wanna come over to the wall, I got's a friend who you could meet. I mean, only if you wanna?" Yancy laughed, trying to sweetly coax you deeper into socialisation.

You hesitated. This man sure was alluring, but risking another episode like that caused you to reconsider. You bit your bottom lip, slightly, your eyebrows became sewn together as you weighted up your options. Either go over and run your social battery out completely, or decline and recover from this moment.

"Thanks Yance, but I think I'm done for the day." You responded. "All this talking and warm heat" and maybe some other things "has made my head spin a little."

"Ok, well if youse's sure." Yancy stood up once more and punched your shoulder "See you around Keys!"

You saw him walk back to his mate and sit down together under the shade of the building. You blissfully made your way back inside of Happy Trails, back with you and your own thoughts.

Its blasting air conditioner made your arms tingle as you pulled out a chair in the Cafeteria and went to reach for the poetry book. The silence hung much thicker in the air as you sat uncomfortably. Is this what withdrawal felt like? To be isolated not a minute after being surrounded by people. You kind of missed the feeling of having someone to talk to, but everyone had their boundaries - even you. You tried not to linger on the thought of feeling like you let Yancy down. He gave you the opportunity to help you overcome your fears but you didn't take it. Maybe next time you would take it, but for now, you did something new today: You should be proud of yourself.

You scanned around at the empty chairs and tables, the occasional guard whistling by the Cafeteria's door frame before you brought your head to the window. Your eyes soon spotted Yancy sashaying around with his friend. They must have said something funny because he soon showed his pearly whites, his chest rising and falling as his strong hand clutched his chest. Your eyes couldn't tear themselves away from this scene. The jailbird was the only person who actually tried with you. Smiling to yourself, you looked back up and your breath hitched. He was looking directly back at you and giving you a small wave. His smaller companion followed suit, shooting their hand straight up, frantically joining in. You sheepishly waved back before opening the book from you left off.

"Missed me Y/N?"

[stellawella97]

Atelephobia: The Fear of Never Being Good Enough (Shane/Gender Neutral Farmer) - Chapter 1/3

Just posted 1/3 of my first Stardew Valley fanfic!

Read it below or over @ AO3

Summary:

Shane has got 99 problems but never did he think the entire world losing its colour would be one of them.

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It started off as just any other normal day in Shane’s life.

The chickens clucked noisily outside, the cows joining in their song occasionally with their loud chorus of moo’s. None of these sounds woke Shane up in the slightest - he heard them every day and he’d grown so accustomed to the noise, he figured he’d still be able to continue sleeping even if his bedroom floor caved in beneath his bed.

The slightly battered alarm clock sitting on Shane’s bedside table began its shrill ringing at 6:30am sharp. Shane tended to run by a strict ‘5 more minutes’ rule when it came to waking up in the morning however. Refusing to open his eyes till he absolutely had to, Shane managed to turn off the alarm clock by swatting aimlessly with his hand till it met with cold metal and the ringing stopped.

He tried to fall back asleep for those precious extra 5 minutes of peace before he had to leave for his soul-sucking job at JojaMart. However, memories of the night before began to flood back into his mind. Shane had been up in the mountains late at night, drinking again. He faintly remembered seeing the hermit (Linus, was it?) entering his tent, a plastic bag that was stuffed to the brim with what looked like half-eaten food grasped tightly in his hands.

Shane had drunk a couple cans of beer before he decided to enter the mines nearby. It had been dark and full of strange noises neither human nor animal could make but Shane had managed to make it down several floors with a pickaxe he’d found at the mine entrance in his drunken state. As to why he’d chosen to do this, Shane had no idea whatsoever.

He didn’t remember much else except for the sound of a creature speaking in a garbled ancient language, a warm tingling sensation that filled his entire body, and finally the sharp pain that shot through his head as he finally keeled over from the amount of alcohol in his system, smashing his head against the rocky terrain. Oddly enough, his head didn’t hurt at all this morning. Doctor Harvey must’ve patched him up real good this time. Or maybe Marnie had. Who’d even brought him back to the house?

Just as he was beginning to wonder if he was actually found with trousers on this time, Shane heard the sound of the front door slamming shut. Marnie must have gone out to feed the animals. Shane was just about to roll over onto his side to continue his reminiscing when it began to dawn on him that he’d probably been in bed for more than just 5 minutes.

Shane quickly sat up in bed and grabbed the alarm clock. It was now 7:10am! He couldn’t risk Morris docking his pay again this month - he had to get to JojaMart quick. He jumped out of bed and had just put his leg through a pair of jeans when he noticed that it’d turned from blue to gray. When had that happened? He remembered wearing this exact pair of jeans just two days ago and he certainly hadn’t ever bought gray ones before.

It was then that he realized - everything had turned gray from his walls, to the cushion placed in front of the television set, to the alarm clock, and even his own skin.

I’ve finally done it, haven’t I? I died in those fucking mines last night and now, I’m in some kind of Hell?

The thought ran through Shane’s mind as he spun around, inspecting everything in his room for any sign of colour. This was to no avail. Even his favourite pair of boxers was gray with slightly darker gray hearts dotting it. In a moment of pure desperation, Shane decided to pinch himself as hard as he could on his arm in an attempt to find out if he was in fact still alive. He was.

Rubbing the sore patch of skin on his arm, Shane decided that he didn’t have time to waste standing here and waiting to see if the world around him would get its colour back. If he was still alive, he needed to get to work pronto. He quickly pulled on his ratty, old JojaMart jacket that still did its job and ran out of the house, only just remembering to shut his bedroom door behind him because he just didn’t think he could deal with Marnie yelling at him again about the mess of empty beer cans and pizza boxes in there.

Shane ran through town, almost knocking over Abigail who had just left Pierre’s General Store with a flute in her hands. It worried him to no end that even her usually bright purple of her hair (She must dye it, right?) was now a dull gray, but Shane had no time to be stressing about that now. He’d just have to wait till during his break or after work.

Once he’d arrived at JojaMart, Shane immediately went to the employees office to clock in and change into the uniform. He took a moment to glance at his reflection in the mirror and sighed as he noted that the usually bright blue uniform was just as unflattering as always in a gray shade. He walked out onto the shop floor and began stocking the shelves, determined to just get through the day now.

However, he must’ve done something to offend Yoba because Shane’s shift did not go well at all. He’d first managed to trip over his own feet and crashed straight into the display of limited edition shrimp-flavoured Joja Cola that he’d been hard at work stacking up for over an hour. As Shane was stomping angrily back onto the shop floor with a bucket of soapy water and a mop in his hands, he’d then bumped into Pam who’d screamed in rage when she discovered her brand-new jumpsuit was now soaked. Even though he’d apologized profusely to Pam, Shane still had to sit through an hour and a half of Morris’s lectures as well as had his paycheck docked for the day to reimburse Pam for the damages.

Just as he thought his day couldn’t get any worse however, Shane was just about to clock out for his lunch break when Morris asked him to help Sam unload the delivery trucks that had just arrived with a new shipment of powdered butter, gluten pucks and Carbo Cones. This meant he had to endure almost an hour’s worth of listening to Sam go on and on about how awesome some indie band in Grampleton was - which on some days, was fine. Just not today, for Yoba’s sake. Instead of putting up a fuss however (Morris wouldn’t care anyway), Shane simply gritted his teeth and headed out to the back of JojaMart.

It wasn’t till 2pm that Shane finally managed to clock out for his break. He flopped down onto a seat at a small round metal table in the employee’s break room and stared at the silently humming vending machine in the corner of the room. The vending machine sold only JojaMart products, all of them disgusting and overly sweet - Shane had tried each one. At first, he wondered to himself ‘Wasn’t that vending machine blue before?” before it dawned on him for the second time that day that he hadn’t been able to see colours all day. As crazy as it sounded, he’d just been so distracted with work that he hadn’t had time to notice.

Shane leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms, biting his lower lip in concentration. How had this happened? Had something happened to him in the mines? Maybe he should pay Doctor Harvey a visit after work, he would know what to do.

“Knock knock!,” a familiar voice suddenly came from the direction of the door. Shane, who had been staring blankly at a spot on the table, looked up to see who had managed to sneak into the break room in surprise but flinched almost immediately, bringing a hand up to shield his eyes from the sudden burst of colour amongst the gray. Once his eyes had adjusted, Shane saw that the voice belonged to the new farmer that had recently moved into the farm out of the town. They were now standing by the door, their hands clasped behind their back.

He must’ve been staring at the farmer for just a moment too long because they’d then asked “Shane? Are you okay? with an eyebrow raised questioningly. Shane cleared his throat and stood up from his chair, moving to stand in front of the vending machine. It was hard to tell what he was looking at when all the cans were the same gray colour, but he pretended to be deciding which drink he was going to buy to buy himself some time. His heart was beating so fast in his chest, Shane began to wonder if he was about to pass out.

Why’s the farmer the only one who’s in colour? Why of all people has it got to be them?!

Just as he thought of something smart to say, Shane heard the sound of the break room door opening again. He spun around to find the farmer already halfway out the door. However, the farmer noticed at the last moment that Shane had finally turned around and was now looking at them. They hesitated for a moment before saying with a shy smile tracing their lips “I’ve gotta go now but...I’ll be stopping by the Stardrop Saloon tomorrow night, I hope I’ll see you there there?”

“I-I’ll see you there!,” Shane blurted out, feeling his cheeks begin to heat up. The farmer flashed him a warm smile before shutting the door behind them. Shane fell back into his seat and buried his face in his hands, mentally screaming at himself for two main reasons. One, he had sounded way too excited at the prospect of seeing the farmer again. Two, had the farmer just subtly invited him on a date? And did he just...agree to it? What was going on today?!

Not once did he stop to wonder why the farmer hadn’t turned gray like everything else, himself included.

Shane managed to breeze through the second half of his shift at JojaMart without any further mishaps, and had made it all the way back home with his head high up in the clouds. He popped a frozen pizza he’d stolen from JojaMart’s freezers into the oven and entered his bedroom, kicking his shoes off at the door.

He was just wondering if people still brought their date flowers in these modern days when he noticed a small slip of paper that was being held in place beneath a small stone that was smooth to the touch. Written on the paper in a barely legible script were the words ‘Lost your ability to see colour, huh? If you want it back, meet me at the mines tonight at 11pm’.

Shane looked around his room and decided to check the windows. They were locked. Whoever had delivered this note must’ve come in from the front door but Marnie who had been home all day would have said something to him if someone had come looking for him. She hadn’t though, so they must have snuck in without her seeing. Now he knew how they got in, there was still one question left unanswered:

Who sent me this note?

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Author Notes:

Part 2 will be up sometime later this week so stay tuned for that.

If you'd like my work and would like to support me, please consider donating to my Ko-fi @ https://ko-fi.com/stellawella97 where I am offering custom fanfic commissions for a cup of coffee! It'd really help me out. Thank you <3

[minghaocouture]

Addicted

Pairing: Jeonghan x Reader Genre: Angst Warnings: Implied smut, unhealthy relationship, manipulation, mentions of cheating, Language WC: 2k+ A/N: Soooo i didn’t have a lot of time this weekend to write something new. So I took a fic I wrote years ago on my old writing account and transferred it to this account! I’ve been debating on writing a follow up fic to it, now i might have the energy to do it.

Pop music screamed through the room, filling the once silent night air with it’s beats. He was calling you again, you knew it. No one else would be calling at….3am. 

Fuck it was 3am. Of course you knew better than to answer him again. He was drunk and needy, and you weren’t some whore for him to play with. 

Not anymore.

Finally the loud music ended, signalling that he had given up for now. Sadly, it was too late, you were wide awake at this point and regretting not blocking his number. You had decided to cut of any contact you had with him, hell you hadn’t even seen him in a whole week (which considering how close you had been before was a fucking miracle)

A groan escaped your lips, swinging your legs over the side of the bed and pushing your fatigued frame to stand up. You were gonna kill him if you saw him again, you had already been losing sleep over him and you didn’t need him actively helping the problem.

You felt pathetic. 

Grabbing your phone off of your nightstand, flipping the case open to see that he had called a total of 7 times. Honestly, he was usually more stubborn than that. Maybe he had finally gotten the message. You scoffed at the thought, this was Yoon Jeonghan we are talking about, he wasn’t one to give up so quickly.

With a sigh, you drug yourself into your kitchen with the thought of getting some coffee and attempting to start your day...albeit a bit early. Eyes focused on the coffee pot in front of you, as your mind wandered farther away.

Your apartment honestly felt rather empty now...2 weeks ago, Jeonghan would have been here with you. A arm wrapped around your middle, lips on your neck as he whispered sweet nothings to you. Which was exactly what those moments were, nothing. Jeonghan had proved that. You didn’t need him anymore, you didn’t need someone who didn’t actually love you. 

Your train of thought was derailed as a loud pounding sounded from your door, causing you to jump lightly. Glancing at the clock on your microwave, you noticed that it was only about 3:30am, way to early for guests. A sinking feeling made its way into your gut, you eyes staring at the door for a moment before another resounding knock echoed through your apartment.

“Y/N, I know y-you’re home babyyyyyy. Let me iiin!” The familiar voice had your heart sinking into your gut, your blood running cold. Why was he here? Sure you didn’t pick up his calls and sure he was drunk but there was no reason for him to come here! 

While you stood in your kitchen like a deer in headlights you heard a drunken fumbling at the door before it burst open revealing the face a face that you definitely didn’t want to see right now or hell, ever again.

Your feet felt like they were glued to the floor as you watched his drunken gaze move towards the living room as he entered. When he noticed you weren’t there his line of sight moved on to the kitchen, eyes locking with yours. It felt like a stone had settled inside your gut as he smiled at you. At one point, that smile would have made your skin flush and your heart race with excitement. Now it simply made your blood run cold….you really should have hidden your spare key in a different place.

“Under the rug still? Baby you’re so cute.” His voice slurred as he pushed the door closed, his inebriated body following the door as it shut. His eyes never leaving yours, looking at you as if you were his next meal. Jeonghan lifted his frame off of the door, and stumbled his way through the archway to join you in the kitchen.

Swallowing deeply, you set your gaze firmly on him. “You need to leave. I told you I didn’t want to see you again Jeonghan.” If you didn’t know any better, you would have thought that his eyes looked hurt by your words. 

But you had seen him, with your own two eyes, you saw him fucking that girl. It was an image that was burned into your mind. His arms firmly gripping the girl’s hips, hard enough to leave bruises (you knew from experience), his moans as he pleasured the woman. Just the memory of seeing that made your stomach turn. 

His hand clumsily reached out to stroke your cheek, and you couldn’t find it in yourself to listen to the rules that you had set for yourself when it had come to him. This was pathetic.

“But baaaabe.” a fresh whine left his lip as his thumb gently caressed your cheek. His lower lip had jutted out into a small pout. “I need a place to stay tonight. I lost my keys and Josh left the bar without me.” 

Coming to your senses ever so slightly you pushed his hand away, almost instantly missing it’s warmth. “So….you were abandoned at the bar, and instead of calling your roommate to come back and get you. You called me? And walked here? What kind of sense does that make?” You couldn’t stop the exasperated laugh from leaving your lips as he nodded his head, attempting to act cute. He always did that just to win you over, he really was something else. 

“This was the first place I thought of, I mean what’s an angel outside of Heaven?” His question hit you right where it hurt. When you were together, he had always called you his Heaven. It was cheesy and silly but you had loved it. Being Heaven for your beautiful angel. Fuck…

“A demon…” you muttered under your breath, answering his rhetorical question. Running a hand through your hair as a sigh escaped your lips. “Fine, just….just go sleep on the couch. You know where the bathroom is. Just leave me alone.”

Coffee long forgotten, you grabbed your phone and turned on your heel to return to your room. You just wanted to bury yourself under the covers and pray to whatever deity was out there that Jeonghan would be gone by the time you woke up. 

“Ahhh and people call me the Angel. Good night Y/N.” he slurred, his words making your heart clench tightly. You ignored him. After all, that was all you could do at this point. 

Returning to the warm comfort of your bed, you found yourself unable to sleep. You body pressed as close to the wall as you could comfortably stand, mind reeling with pain and irritation. Why did he have to come here? Why couldn’t he just move on to some other pitiful girl and leave you alone? Did he just...enjoy watching you suffer? Honestly, the last one might be true...schadenfreude might as well have been his middle name. 

As you lay, you felt your eyes begin to drop with sleep at last. You were almost so far gone that you didn’t hear the creak of your door as it was lightly pushed open or feel the shifting of your bed as a weight was added to it. 

Rolling over to face the intruder, it was exactly who you expected. But before you could sit up and order him out of your room, his arms had snaked themselves around your waist. Pulling your frame into his now bare chest. It took every ounce of control and reason in your body to will yourself not to relax into the familiarity of his embrace. This wasn’t a good thing anymore, this was very very bad and you needed to force him away.

“I miss you.” His soft voice seemed almost like a whisper in your ear. It was almost as if those three words had taken all of your strength. Leaving your hands shaking on his forearms, stopping their attempt to push him away once more. 

In all honesty, you missed him too. Hell you were still madly in love with him and he knew it. He had to, this had to just be a ploy to get into your pants. There was no way he actually cared about you, loved you, he never had in the first place. 

“So so much. My heaven was gone for so long.” He was still drunk, but it was quite obvious now that he had been overacting a bit earlier. It was hard to think about that fact though as he nuzzled his face into the side of your neck, soft hair tickling you as he did. “Please Y/N, please don’t leave me alone again.”  It was almost like you were a God and his words were a prayer to you. It was terrible, you couldn’t let him do this...not again. 

“Jeonghan, you can’t...I can’t do this.” You muttered, your strength finally returning as you gently pushed his chest away from you. “I don’t want you in my life anymore after what you did.” You vaguely wondered who you were speaking to at this point, Jeonghan or yourself. 

Even in the dark you could see the heartbreak pass into his expression. You couldn’t tell if it was real or not, he had always been such a wonderful manipulator. Using his words and expressions to twist the minds of others so that he could get his way. But that fact seemed to slip your mind when he pressed his forehead to yours.

“Then, can you just give me one last night? To be with you one more time?” That’s what he said last time, but you found yourself falling for it once again as you felt his lips ever so slightly ghost over your own, almost begging for you to fill the gap between them. That was his game, keep you wanting more. Keep you addicted to his touch, his kiss, his everything. You knew you had lost the second you found your hands gripping on his shoulders, pushing him onto his back while your lips firmly pressed against his own. Finding such wonderful solace in his embrace, and the long night that you had ahead of you. Your moans melding with his own, creating a symphony of pleasure that you knew you would come to regret once morning hit.

You were pathetic, and you knew it.

***

“You did what?!” 

You couldn’t look Jun in the eyes as he sat across from you at your local coffee shop. You knew he was upset, and as your best friend he sort of had a right to be. He knew how much Jeonghan had already hurt you and he was pissed that he wouldn’t leave you alone after all the heartache he had caused. 

“He...he came over last night. He um, he needed a place to stay. Said some sweet words and he just won me over.” Exasperated you held your head in your hands, explaining to Jun once again what had happened the night prior. Or...rather this morning. “But when I woke up, he was gone. 

You could almost feel the taste in Jun’s stare as you lifted your eyes to meet his finally, “Y/N, you can’t keep doing this to yourself. This is unhealthy for both of you.” For a moment, he looked like he was about to continue before his lips pressed into a firm line. His eyes didn’t meet your, rather they seemed to linger behind you where the door to the shop resided. With a tense feeling in your chest, you followed his gaze to find none other than Yoon Jeonghan with his arm wrapped around the waist of a rather petite blonde woman. All smiles as usual.

Your heart sank, he did it again. He used you. Of course you had known that before, but seeing that woman with him had just cemented that fact. He had played you like a damn fiddle. How stupid could you have been? Once again falling for his sweet lies and gentle caresses.

If you were being honest with yourself, which you rarely were, you would have realized that no matter how many times he came back...you would let him in. You weren’t over him, you were addicted and his was the sweetest of drugs.

[writerman]

Psst. Write a hanahaki disease fic for Barduil where Thranduil has it. You gotta write it.

Hey, anon, remember when you requested this probably like a year ago? Yeah, me either...

Anyway, here is what you asked for. I wrote over 7000+ words in a day to finish this asap.

My thanks to @morticia-butler​ for all the help looking up Hanahaki disease headcanons and an iconic line I simply had to include.

This is a long one so some of it will be under a readmore BUT you can also read all my other Barduil prompts via this fancy schmancy LINK

On to the story!

---------------------

8:30am. Thursday. September 17th. Just petals. 

The mirror reflected a pale and haunted image back at him while bright and vibrant yellow petals dusted the front of his pyjama t-shirt. 

Daffodils. 

His favourite. Thranduil, however, had come to detest the sight of them. The sunshine yellow flowers openly mocking him, their bobbing heads in the breeze seen as a gaggle of them laughing almost jovially at his situation. 

No point thinking on it in-depth, not when he could temporarily abate the problem. 

With such a thought in mind, Thranduil brushed the petals from his shirt into the sink and watched as they swirled in the water a moment before vanishing down the drain into the darkness. 

But there would be more. 

There was always more. 

A soft knock at the bathroom door stilled his hand as he reached for his toothbrush and he turned to see Tauriel watching him with concern. 

“I didn’t know you were visiting today, what are you doing here?” Thranduil’s voice was soft as he spoke, though, the lilting sound of surprise cracked his voice for a moment. “Had I known you planned to visit I’d have been ready by now. What are-” Thranduil watched as Tauriel leaned toward him, her hand brushed the fabric of his t-shirt as she plucked a petal still clinging to the fibres. 

“Dad, you said this had stopped!” The words rushed out and they were so loud as she held the petal up between them. While it hadn’t meant to come out so accusing, he could hear the dismay that coloured her words, it still felt harsh and Thranduil braced himself for a barrage of instructions to get himself to a doctor. 

“It was quelled for some time. The doctor gave me special inhalers that slow the spread but I’ve not had the time to contact the surgery for a refill.” He gestured to an empty inhaler laying innocently on its side by the sink. They had helped immeasurably and the majority of his family had believed the disease was done and gone. 

But Hanahaki was not that easy to be rid of, he knew and deep down his family knew that too. It was easier to think he had been cured than to do consider the alternative…

“I dropped by because I wanted to know if you felt like grabbing breakfast?” Tauriel turned from the bathroom door and wandered into her dad’s bedroom, his clothes were laid out already, she paced past the bed and back out into the hallway. “I’ll be downstairs, let’s go out still.” 

There was no time to respond and so Thranduil internally agreed to breakfast with his daughter. She and Legolas were the same in that they were strongwilled, always happy to make a decision and happy to make it for someone else too. 

They definitely had gotten that trait from him, even if he had mellowed somewhat with age. It was easy to recall his younger days with clarity, he walked tall never a curve to his back because he bowed to no one. 

He had been so headstrong and confident, even after his wife had died. People had come to him speaking softly with sincere condolences but Thranduil cast the sorrowful glances aside and carried on working. 

That felt like aeons ago now, Thranduil was more in touch with his emotional and mental health now, gave and took the time of others as freely as he should have when he was younger. Thranduil found value in the world where once he would have shunned it. 

Turning to look in the mirror, that pale and haunted face stared back but the eyes seemed less empty than they had earlier. Even with his disease there was still hope within him, it was choked and stuttering by the roots of the flowers in his chest and lungs but it was there. 

“I can’t give up, not yet.” He whispered to himself. 

They ended up heading to Tauriel’s favourite place for breakfast, it was a small family-run restaurant and the food was good. The cheery wait staff did not match the highly polished wood and marble of the place but it felt strangely homely all the same. 

It was while Thranduil perused the menu that Tauriel brought up the subject, or rather, the object of his disease to him. A public place so he would not make a scene, perhaps, or rather, she hadn’t thought of the setting and only wanted to relinquish her hold on the burning question she had within for months. 

“So, will you at least tell me who it is that did this to you?” Badly worded. No one had passed the disease onto him, that wasn’t how it worked and he knew Tauriel understood that. “Come on, dad. Do they know what they’ve done to you?” Of course, she was angry but why was she being angry with someone innocent in all of it? 

While the majority of the time Thranduil was able to ignore these unnecessary outbursts from his children, there were ofttimes when his frustration got the better of him and one of those times was now.

With hands loosely balled into fists resting on the tabletop, Thranduil pinned his daughter with an icy glare that quashed whatever words she had left inside to say on the matter.  

“I have told you time and time again, I will not tell you who it is. You know damned well that they are not to blame in this. You’ve seen the diagnosis, even though I’ve asked you to stay out of it, you’ve seen the words ‘ self-inflicted’ on the documents.” He voice was low but the chill in his words caused Tauriel to sit back in her seat and avert her gaze from his. 

“I’m sorry-” She stopped when the waitress came over and set down their coffee and a rack of toast. There was time enough between the waitress approaching and leaving for Tauriel to regain her composure. “I’ve read so much about this over the past few months, it might now be onesided that’s all.” She was right but the percentage was low.

Hanahaki disease was such an odd illness to contract, the phenomenon of flowers growing in a person’s chest and lungs due to unrequited or onesided love. The agitation of yearning and pining watered the blooms until the lungs were completely full and the chest cavity would split open with leaves and stems and petals spilling out and killing a person instantly if they hadn’t already died from suffocation. 

But that was only intense cases. There were ways to slow the spread and Thranduil was taking measures to ensure he could do such a thing. 

Regular therapy was one. His therapist was a wonderful woman who guided him through the process of coming to terms with his unrequited love. They spoke of how to be honest and open with the feelings he experienced and how to provide his own closure.

Though, they had many hurdles to jump. Thranduil didn’t believe in closure per se, to him revisiting something traumatic and uncomfortable merely reopened wounds. They’d spent many sessions focussing on the death of his wife and while it had helped immensely in allowing a belated grieving it ultimately had not helped with his predicament.

But he was not to call it a predicament his therapist had said. To remove the seriousness of the disease was to remove the value of his own life. There were many times she had asked him to look from the outside in and speak on the issues in his life as though they affected another person. It had helped and when things looked bleak or if Thranduil began to brush off the seriousness of his illness he would remind himself that he would not allow someone else to do that to themselves. 

The next most drastic step was surgery, but it was a temporary step and it slowed the spread of the disease. Researchers in the medical field studying Hanahaki always implied heavily that the physical manifestations of the disease were caused by the brain and thus Hanahaki was registered as a mental illness. 

It was why doctors pressed so hard for those that suffered to seek therapy. 

“I won’t be involving the person in this what so ever, Tauriel. Please, I ask again that you drop the subject.” How he had pleaded like this before and how it emotionally exhausted him to see the fear in her eyes every time she visited. 

It was all because he knew that one day she feared she’d find him lying dead, a bouquet of blood-stained flowers adorning his chest in a beautiful and grotesque display of the love that had plagued him. 

“I understand that you’re scared but I promise you I have no given up. I have an appointment with my therapist this afternoon and with my surgeon to discuss a date for surgery.” 

His words seemed enough to placate her for now and she instead busied herself with buttering some toast.

3:00pm Thursday. September 17th. Just petals.

“We spoke about your wife again last week, I noted that you requested we move on from the subject. Why do you feel you need to leave that subject alone?” The room was shaded from the bright Autumn sunshine streaming in from the window. 

Thranduil could see the glowing gold around the edges of the blinds and forgot where he was for a moment as he watched it flicker with the shadow of trees swaying the breeze. He couldn’t remember why he’d suggested they move on but it seemed the right course of action to him. 

“I just feel we aren’t focussing on the real problem.” When he spoke he made a point to look at her. Maintaining eye contact seemed important at that moment, he didn’t want her to think he was ruled by indecision. “My wife has been dead for years and we have already confirmed that, as much as I miss her, I have come to terms with her death and grieved appropriately.” Too business-like. As soon as the words had come out of his mouth he knew. 

The therapist merely ‘hmm’d’ in response and wrote something down. There was the internal battle to struggle with now, to explain himself to her or let her assume something of him that he would, personally, deem incorrect. 

“What is it you would like to speak about instead?” 

That was the problem, he didn’t really know. The only thing he wanted to ask was ‘How did you get over someone and quickly?’ but there wasn’t really much of an answer she would be able to give.

Magazines for years had offered ‘helpful tips to get over that person that doesn’t like you back!’ and Thranduil had put no stock in their, so called, wisdom. Now they didn’t publish these things, now they would ask you to seek help if you experienced any symptoms they listed on the page. 

Distraction techniques had been offered by his family in droves at the beginning when his diagnosis had been revealed. Nothing had actually helped because his mind would often wander to the object of his affection when he was practising a new hobby. 

“I think my need to rush these sessions is just because I’m scared of losing myself completely and if I do that, well, you know what happens.” Thranduil gave a half-hearted shrug, he barely lifted his shoulders but it was a shrug all the same and his therapist acknowledged it as so with a nod. 

“Everyone is scared of dying, Thranduil. Perfectly healthy people, people who have terminal diseases. Do you want to talk about your fear of dying?” 

He didn’t. 

They, instead, spoke of newer experimental ideas that Thranduil might have been interested in trying. She wrote out the prescription for the refill on his inhaler and made another appointment for a week later. 

It wasn’t often that Thranduil left the sessions more tightly wound than he had been when going in but he at least knew that he’d need something to talk about next week or they’d get back on the subject of his wife and he honestly didn’t think that was helpful. 

His next appointment was at the doctor's office, they wanted to schedule surgery but they had needed proof he was visiting his therapist before they would agree. It was a messy and an unfair condition but at least at the doctor's office he could get them to fill the prescription so it wasn’t too much of a wasted trip if they refused his surgery. 

1:00pm Friday. September 18th Foliage. 

The office was quiet now. 

Everyone but Thranduil had packed up for the day and headed out to start their weekends. It was a perk Thranduil had implemented years ago and it had been appreciated, even if it had been created to benefit him more so than his employees at the time. 

Nothing was waiting for him at home and there was plenty of paperwork to do so he poured himself a glass of water, took his inhaler and got comfortable at his desk reading through a brief for a new promotion. 

So engrossed was he in his work that he failed to notice someone entering the office and only when a takeout coffee cup was set before him did he move his gaze from the files he had been reading to intently. 

Looking up Thranduil ceased his movement almost instantly at the sight of his best friend Bard. The afternoon sunshine illuminated his handsome face with a soft golden glow, his brown eyes looked golden as he smiled down at him. His cheery countenance was always welcome and so was his gift of coffee but Thranduil could tell his friend was there with an agenda of sorts. 

“Haven’t seen you lately, Thran. You’re not holding yourself up in this office every night until late again, are you?” The concern, it left a shaking and aching hole inside Thranduil and that hole soon became clogged with stems and leaves, give the disease an inch and, well, that old adage. 

“No, I just had something to do here but it can wait. Did you need something?” To try and remain relaxed and carefree around Bard was increasingly difficult, more so when he had endeavoured to hide his disease from him as much as he could. 

“Hm, well, I just had the feeling that you’ve been avoiding me for a while if I’m to be completely honest.” Straight to the point, no beating around the bush for Bard and he had every right to be concerned because he was correct.

Perhaps it was more obvious lately that he had been trying to avoid Bard for a few weeks. Avoidance was never going to be the answer but this man was why he had the disease, or rather, what exacerbated it. There would never be a time he would place sole or even partial blame on Bard for what he was going through. 

“I’m sorry, I suppose I have been caught up in work recently. I’m absolutely not overworking myself before you ask. However, I’ve neglected my best friend and I think I owe you a drink, at least.”

“At least,” Bard repeated in agreement and he grinned, they didn’t move to get up. 

Thranduil busied himself with taking a sip of his coffee, it was a blond roast from Michael’s he could tell without even looking at the logo on the side of the cup. All the while he inwardly cursed the tightness in his chest and new shoots began to sprout and buds began to burst into bloom. 

There was no chance he could even begin to hazard a cough. It’d look like a cat had swallowed a canary. Or a man that had swallowed his feelings. 

For a short while, they chatted idly about what they’d done recently. Bard talked of hating the empty nest syndrome he was suffering now that Tilda had moved out, leaving the family home nothing but a ‘mausoleum of family memories that were visited by a spectre that had helped create them’. It was a dramatic sentence and Thranduil laughed aloud before offering something vaguely sympathetic to soothe his friend.  

“Can’t you clock out already, you own the business let’s get out while it’s still bright,” Bard complained as he rose from his seat and wandered toward the large window Thranduil sat with his back to. “The sun is still warm and we could probably walk to the pub instead of taking the car.”

“Walking to the pub suggests that you don’t wish to have a few drinks but one too many.” As much as he hoped he sounded wise, Thranduil knew Bard would have clearly taken it as a challenge. So they were absolutely going to get drunk that night and Thranduil couldn’t have been more terrified of that prospect.

“I haven’t seen you in ages, you’re my best friend and even if we both regret how bad we feel in the morning, age that does that to you, I want to get drunk with you, Thran!” Ah, old age hadn’t fully caught up with Bard yet, he was vibrant and energetic and hot. Gods above was that man gorgeous. 

That was where it all began though, Bard had blazed into his life when they were in their early 30’s. Thranduil had just lost his wife and was trying to juggle a career and two grieving kids. 

Bard and his wife Anya had helped him. They took the kids to school and picked them up and fed them so Thranduil could… do what? He couldn’t even remember now- he hadn’t grieved that was for sure!

With a 10 year and an 8-year-old broken over the loss of their mother and having no support from their emotionally unavailable father, Tauriel and Legolas had grown up to be quite well adjusted. Though, some of that might have been the therapy they’d gotten as suggested by their school. 

It had happened only 2 years later, Bard lost Anya and he was thrown into a situation similar to Thranduil’s and the roles were reversed. Sigrid and Tauriel grew up like sisters and were still close because of how often they saw one another. They bonded strongly over what had happened to their mothers and became each other’s strength when they needed it.

The same happened with Bard and Thranduil, they became close friends. They took the children on holiday together, camping or water parks and spent their weekends finding activities for the kids that they too could take part in. 

For a while, it had been just friendship, but then as the children grew up and wanted to spend less time with dad and more time with friends they found company in each other more often than not. 

Then Tauriel and Legolas moved out for university, Sigrid and Bain left Bard for the same reason, Tilda was always adventuring with her friends and so when the empty house became too much they would go out. 

Dinner, drinks, a walk in the park, catch a movie or two. 

Innocent stuff, but Thranduil allowed himself to get comfortable and in letting his guard down he let feelings in that he had tried to avoid from the moment he met Bard. 

The problem was when Anya died Bard told Thranduil he couldn’t ever see himself falling in love with another person again. 

This was proven time and time again over the years, dates would happen once or not at all with people that could have been his perfect match, and eventually, Bard learned to ignore anyone that tried to flirt with him. A suggestive smile or even a compliment was brushed off as nothing more than friendly and the more unattainable he became the more Thranduil realised he was in love with him. 

A terrible turn of events to be sure, and now he suffered daily for it with petals littering his pillows and flowers choking out his lungs. 

“Are we going out then?” Bard’s voice cut through the memories Thranduil was replaying in his mind for the hundredth time and how thankful he was when he did. The blooming of the flowers in his chest increased with the thoughts of Bard. 

To say no to the request would put a strain on their friendship. Bard had already noticed that he was being avoided and it would do them no good for Thranduil to continue that. So, with a nod, he got up from his seat and grabbed his jacket. 

“It is a nice day, let’s walk to the pub then.” Intoxication was the last thing he needed but to keep up the charade that all was fine he’d need to at least try and play along. To play the role of a man in perfect health, body and mind, didn’t seem easy but he had to try. 

He would try because he loved him. 

10:45am Wednesday. September 30th. Bursting Blooms.

It was classed as routine surgery but Thranduil couldn’t imagine how hard it would be to slice someone open and remove flowers stamen to stem to root. Temporary as it was, he was thankful they had managed to organise it so quickly, his outing with Bard and the subsequent dinner the night after meant that his condition rapidly grew worse as time went by in the company of his best friend. 

He’d woken to more petals on his pillow than he had ever seen before and his breathing laboured. Even coughing to free up space didn’t work and instead, he was gifted with near whole flower heads landing in his hands.

The kids were horrified as they watched this because of course, it would have happened while they visited. Which led to him having to listen to endless ‘You should go to the hospital right now.’ in a chorus from them both until he showed them the inhalers. 

They sat either side of him in the waiting room now. 

Legolas bounced his leg continuously looking around the waiting room for something to distract him. He’d taken time away from University to be there to help with recovery. 

Tauriel chewed her nails and checked the time on her phone every couple of minutes as if time flowed differently in a hospital waiting room. 

There was no cause for his anxiety to manifest when he was sat between two that were already doing all the work for him. Sadly, he had no words to calm them of their fears because he was just as afraid. 

“Have people died from this surgery, dad?” Legolas piped up out of the blue, he sounded so young in that moment and Thranduil felt guilt course through his veins like ice for putting his children through something like this again. 

When he didn’t answer Tauriel did for him and she shook her head even though Legolas was focussing more on a poster across the room than on anything else. 

“No, because the surgery, while invasive to a degree, only removes some of the plants. They don’t fully remove everything because they simply can’t. Dad is going to be ok, more ok after this than he is now.” Her confidence only shaking by the tremor in her voice and Thranduil hoped Legolas couldn’t hear it. 

“Hmm, ok.” Pensive now Legolas falls silent but his leg continuous to bounce but not as animatedly as before. He was not calmed but something in her words convinced him that the surgery would be fine. 

Though, he didn’t understand why she would lie to him like that. His son was perfectly capable of looking up the survival rate on his phone, it was low just as low as the rate of people that were cured by expressing their feelings to their heart's desire. 

They were approached by a nurse in scrubs. 

“Mr Oropherion, if you would like to come this way.” 

1:56pm Wednesday. September 30th. Roots. 

Someone was gently squeezing his arm.

“Thranduil, you’ve just come out of surgery. Can you hear me?” The same nurse that took him in was now waking him. “We need you to respond to know you’re ok.” 

Nothing felt real yet he managed to croak out something akin to an ‘I’m fine’ but that was it. The need for sleep and an excruciating pain rushed over him and he groaned hands gripping the sheets as he waited for it to subside. 

“Out of 10, 10 being very painful and 1 being not painful at all how do you feel?” The nurse was holding a clipboard and a pen, they looked down at Thranduil with an expectant look and merely blinked blankly when Thranduil didn’t respond right away.

He needed more time than this to consider everything, on the one hand, he could breathe on the other the pain of being sliced open and stitched back together was awful. 

“Ah… 8 maybe?” His whole body shook as he came out of the anaesthetic and all he wanted was to leave his body while it was in this state and return when he was at home comfortable in his own bed with a cup of tea. 

His time in the recovery room was short and he was wheeled into a private room where he was greeted with the grim face of his best friend. Bard looked awful, pale and he seemed to have aged 10 years all with concern etched deep into his face. 

“You were having important surgery and just elected not to tell me?” It was quiet, so quiet that Thranduil almost didn’t hear him speak. It wasn’t until they were fully alone after someone had administered strong painkillers, that Thranduil finally acknowledged what Bard had said to him. 

“I didn’t need more people worrying about me than was necessary. I’m sorry, Bard. I should have told you but I didn’t want you to ask what the surgery was.” If he was honest, he still didn’t want Bard to know and if he asked him then and there he would outright refuse to tell him. 

Even if keeping such secrets ended their friendship it would be safer then, the heartbreak of losing him as a friend was all the cure he needed and it would continue to protect Bard from the truth. 

“If you had just told me that I could have been here for you from the beginning! Instead, I get a call from Tauriel asking me to come by and sit with Legs because she had to go grab something from home. I had no idea what she was talking about so you can probably expect a gushing apology from her later.” Bard dragged a hand through his dark hair, now laced with silver, as he started to pace. 

It wasn’t fair. 

Life wasn’t fair but this was kicking a man while he was down! 

“I’m sorry, Thran. I didn’t mean to come in and just… yell at you. How are you feeling, are you ok?” Bard moved towards the bed and poured a glass of water out and handed it to Thran who took the offering gratefully and slowly sipped the cold water in trembling hands. 

“Why can’t you tell me what the surgery was?” Bard pulled up the visitor chair so he was sad right by Thranduil’s bedside. For a moment he seemed indecisive in his actions until he, apparently, had a moment of clarity and took Thranduil’s hand in his. “Is it… cancer?” The words were uttered almost reverently as though he was afraid to speak the words any louder than a whisper. 

Could he lie and say yes? 

Oh, how disrespectful he would be to cancer survivors and those who had lost their battle. No, he could not lie and so he shook his head feeling more forlorn with each passing minute. The desperate need to wrench his hand from Bard’s was unbearable, the heat of the man’s hand seared into his skin and he couldn’t think straight wondering how it would be to hold his hand and know he loved him back. 

Something inside him grew and already a new bloom began to sprout. 

This was too dangerous. 

Gods, he was dying and yet he still thought he had a chance with this man sat at his bedside holding his hand whispering words to him like a prayer. 

Eventually, he knew he’d had to put an end to all of this. 

How he wasn’t sure. 

8:36pm Saturday. October 10th. Stems. 

The children had just left, left with promises to be there again in the morning but Thranduil waved them away and told them it was not necessary to coddle him in such a way. The look on their faces told him he really had no say in the matter what so ever. 

The surgery results were more temporary than he’d have liked, petals had started appearing again after a mere 10 days. With the inhalers they were few and far between but only 10 days of respite. His scars not yet healed from the procedure! 

All in all, it seemed to have been a waste of time but at least he was still able to breathe with relative ease, though emotionally it seemed he was breathless. Legolas and Tauriel barely gave him a second alone and were hawks when it came to spotting petals.

At first, they’d been nigh hysterical but Thranduil had calmed them down and explained that these things happened and that he was still able to breathe well enough so there was nothing to worry about. 

They hadn’t believed him. Not even for a second but they were distracted enough to come down from the height they’d been at in their worry. 

The doorbell rang not even 5 minutes after the children had left and Thranduil assumed one of them must have left something behind, so when he opened the door to find Bard on the doorstep he was surprised but ushered him all the same. 

“It’s late, what are you doing here?” Thranduil shivered and pulled the long misshapen and baldy knitted cardigan tightly around himself. It had been a gift from Tauriel, she had knitted it and then proceeded to never try knitting again yet Thranduil adored the huge thing that near drowned him. “Aren’t you coming inside?” 

He noticed after a moment that Bard lingered a little too long at the door and seemed frozen by indecision. It wasn’t like him to be unsure of something so Thranduil prodded again. 

“Are you coming in?” But Bard wasn’t looking at him, he was staring at the cardigan and feeling self-conscious Thranduil wrapped his arms around it trying to cover the large holes, but Bard kept staring until Thranduil actually become protective of the garment and snapped at him. 

“What are you looking at?” Much like Tauriel had done before, Bard leaned forward and between his finger and thumb pulled a yellow petal away from Thranduil’s clothing, it seemed much brighter in the gloom of the autumn evening. 

It seemed enough for Bard to piece together the truth and he looked dismayed, his shoulders dropped and his head dropped for a moment before he forced himself to look up at his friend. 

“Is.. this why you had surgery?”

“Let’s not do this on the steps outside, come in and I promise I will answer all of your questions.” That seemed to put him in motion and with a short nod, Bard stepped into the warmth of the house and Thranduil shut the door. 

“How long have you had this?” 

Straight to the point, Thranduil had hoped he’d be given the chance to offer tea or something else before Bard started grilling him for answers. Honestly, though, he knew the question Bard wanted an answer to the most and Thranduil didn’t think he had it in him to tell him that, not yet at least. 

“Hmm, a year now, maybe?” It had been so long since he had been without the cursed disease and he hadn’t exactly been counting, seeing it was more a count down to his death if he truly tried to rack up the days. 

“Is there a cure, will you die from this?” The panic appeared from nowhere and Bard bit his lip as he tried to work out what he wanted to do next, he seemed to want to cross the room toward Thranduil and pace so to put a stop to either Thranduil made him sit down. 

“I will make tea and answer those questions when I come back.” One of them had to remain calm, while he would have loved to have thrown away his composure and screamed to the Heavens that life wasn’t fair he didn’t think it would help his situation in the slightest. 

When he returned with the tray Bard was stood again but this time by the fireplace looking at the family photos set out across the mantle. They were mostly of himself with the kids, one of is and Bard’s family all together on a camping trip and one of his wedding day. 

“Hanahaki, huh?” He must have googled it while Thranduil was in the kitchen, that was fine but he probably knew more than Thranduil would have liked now. “So the surgery you had was to remove some of the flowers… ah, I can’t pretend like I’m not going to ask. Who is it that did this to you, Thran, who is the one that can’t or won’t love you back?” The tone seemed one of incredulity, as though Bard couldn’t quite believe there was anyone in the world who couldn’t love Thranduil.

But there was. 

“Does it matter who and isn’t it better to see that I am trying to get better instead of giving up?” Deflect the question by asking a question, the only thing he could do as he poured tea and tried to stop his hands from trembling. “I am doing everything the doctors say I should.” 

“Which is?”

“Haven’t you just checked the internet for all of this?”

“Well, yeah, but I want to hear you say it, that’s all.” The conversation was going nowhere because Bard clearly couldn’t stand not knowing who this person was that had captured Thranduil’s heart and refused to return it. 

“I have therapy every week, I have inhalers to slow the spread of the blooms and recently I had surgery to remove the majority of the blockage but the roots are deep.” Such a drastic admission and so unfair to reveal his imminent death so casually. 

Taking a sip of tea, Thranduil watched Bard’s face cycle through several emotions before settling on… nothing. Instead of responding Bard merely added some sugar to his tea before lifting it to his lips to drink. 

“So, you were just planning on dying without telling me?” The words came out flat as though the conversation was casual yet boring. He had hurt his friend that much he was sure of but there wasn’t really much of anything he could say to soothe him now. Bard had been right, and what Thranduil had thought was caring and helpful turned out to be more selfish than anything else. 

“No, I would never do that to you, Bard. I don’t want to keep these things from you but please see this from my perspective. This isn’t something I want to scream from the rooftops- ‘LOOK AT ME EVERYONE I AM DYING BECAUSE THE PERSON I LOVE DOESN’T LOVE ME BACK AND I AM NOT EMOTIONALLY STABLE ENOUGH TO ACCEPT THAT!’ why would I want to reveal my weakness to someone? If Legolas and Tauriel hadn’t found out I would not have told them either!” He didn’t like being weak like this, not after a life of being seen as an unshakable strength a rock that you could rely on. Everything was beginning to crumble why would he want to bare his soul now? 

“Fine but don’t think I can just forgive you for hiding this from me. After everything we’ve been through together you just fail to tell me that, 1) you’re in love with someone, and 2) You’re dying because of it.” Bard set down his cup a little too hard and pushed himself to his feet and headed for the door. “I… I have to go, Thran. I’m sorry.” 

He was on his feet in seconds following Bard to the door but the man was already in his car by the time he got out onto the steps to call him back. 

“You don’t understand…” Thranduil whispered as he tugged at the cardigan pulling it tight around him against the chill. “I didn’t tell you to save you from the guilt that I know you’d feel.” Of course, the words merely dissipated into the cold night air and the vapours trailing each word rose into the sky before vanishing completely. 

At least the universe heard his admission of the truth. 

4:00pm Friday, December 11th. Nothing but a memory. 

They had given him a clean bill of health. 

No roots, stems, stamens, petals, not even a leaf remained. The flowers had wilted and withered to nothing and Thranduil took an easy deep breath as he left the doctor’s office. It was a chilly December evening and he was adjusting his scarf when Legolas nearly bowled him over running into him his arms thrown around his neck in a tight embrace. 

“I heard the news! You’re better now for good?!” The excitement in his son’s voice brought genuine tears to Thranduil’s eyes and he buried his face in Legolas’ golden hair for a long month savouring the warmth his son gave. 

When they broke apart Tauriel was stood by her car, the engine still running. They must have just arrived as he was leaving. She gave him a cheery wave before climbing into the car to shut off the engine. 

Thranduil hadn’t confessed his feelings to Bard and Bard had not confessed his to him. Instead, he had worked hard to understand that sometimes your feelings just were not reciprocated and that was ok. 

Platonic love was just as good as romantic love, sadly, he hadn’t been able to speak to Bard since he’d walked out on him all those weeks ago. While he would always love Bard he understood that what he had done was hurtful and if he’d been given the chance he wished he could apologise. 

It had never been his intention to hurt his best friend but he had been so caught up in his own pain he had forgotten to consider those nearest and dearest to him. How had it been fair to hide such a horrible problem from those he held dear? 

“Have you heard from… him?” Tauriel knew everything now, she’d gotten it out of him not long ago, he was at his lowest and needed someone who might understand. It was not his proudest moment, leaning on his daughter emotionally for support, but she had been steadfast in her support of him that it seemed so easy to tell her everything. 

Thankfully, Tauriel didn’t hold the reaction Bard had against him. 

“I had been angry just like him too, remember?” 

Oh, she had, she had screamed murder in his home, right in the centre of the living room, when she had realised and didn’t speak to Thranduil for days. It was the longest she had ever gone without talking to him before, a whole 6 days until she came around and they talked about what it meant for the family. 

But now they were fine, life could resume. Thranduil could live with seeing them without the soft concerned glances Tauriel and Legolas would exchange when his chest grew tight and he wheezed as he tried to grasp a full breath. 

If only he could repair his relationship with Bard. There weren’t many he shared his life with and losing someone was extremely noticeable when that someone was fully apart of his daily life.

Even visiting his usual haunts proved useless. There didn’t seem to be a trace of him anywhere and Thranduil was much too much of a coward to walk right up to his door and demand to be let in. 

Yet, none of his calls were returned or his texts answered. When Tauriel asked Sigrid if her dad was ok she just shrugged and said he wasn’t doing anything unusual of late, but he had been grabbing a drink with workmates more often. 

That wasn’t a cause for concern as Bard had always been the friendly and sociable type. 

Whatever was going through his friend's mind he sincerely hoped he would take the time to consider contacting him so they could talk. There were only so many text messages he could send without looking incredibly desperate. 

5:30am Tuesday, December 24th. Easy breathing. 

A shrieking doorbell and the sound of continuous banging on the door jolted Thranduil awake and he swore loudly as he tumbled out of bed and shuffled wearily down the stairs. Whoever it was had better have a fantastic reason as to why they had to get him up at stupid o'clock in the morning!! 

When he pulled the door open to see a rather dishevelled Bard using the door frame to hold himself up the air in Thranduil’s lungs seemed to vanish. He stood motionless for a good 30 seconds before helping Bard inside. 

“You absolutely reek of alcohol. What are you doing here?” 

There was silence proceeding his question and, at first, Thranduil thought the man had fallen asleep on the sofa where he had collapsed but it appeared he was just thinking of the best response. 

“I had to see you.” Surprisingly he didn’t sound drunk and Thranduil considered that the cold must have sobered him up. For his own mental health, he decided against asking him what he meant about having to see him. 

“I don’t know about you but the larks aren’t even up yet and I am tired. Let me make some coffee for the both of us and we can see if I can’t get some sense out of you.” As he turned to move Bard’s hand shot out and his fingers curled around Thranduil’s wrist tugging him backwards with ease. 

“No, let me speak to you, hasn’t it been long enough already?” A sleep-deprived gravelled tone did not suit Bard and Thranduil could see dark circles around his eyes. Whatever had been on Bard’s mind of late must have had him up around the clock. 

“You were the one that decided you’d had enough of me, remember?” 

Those words caused the man before him to relinquish his grip on Thranduil’s wrist and he just gave a nod but when Thranduil didn’t move he took a deep breath and began to speak. 

“I’m sorry that I made it about me. There wasn’t even a second where I considered how scared you must have been to know that any day could have been your last.” 

“Yes, well, thankfully those days are behind me now.” 

Like a shock of electricity had gone through him Bard jumped to his feet looking this way and that before having the decency to look genuinely apologetic. 

“Did I interrupt your sleep with them?” In the light of the living room, Thranduil got a better look at him and something inside him clicked into place and he had to withhold a groan when he realised he had definitely, once again, fallen in love with his best friend. 

“There is no one, the person I was in love with, I’m not in love with them now. It took a long time to come to terms with the fact they did not care for me the way I wanted but I am better because I started to love me more.” Oh, what a liar he was. Yes, he did care for himself a lot more but he was falling right back into the rut he had been not 8 weeks ago. 

The second he started spitting petals he was going to wring Bard’s neck. There was no way he was going through all that again!

“There’s no one, ah, good. That means I have a sliver of a chance to ask you out on a date then.” 

No, no he wasn’t doing any of this without coffee. As much as he wanted to address every single word the man had just uttered he wasn’t doing this without caffeine and maybe some toast. 

Without a word he walked off into the kitchen and, like a lost puppy, Bard obediently trotted in behind him trying to get his attention. No, no, no, he was going to fill the machine with coffee beans and put bread in the toaster then he was going to get the toaster and throw it at Bard’s head! 

Whipping round to face him, Thranduil grabs a fistful of Bard’s shirt and pulls him close enough that they are nearly nose to nose. 

“You’re telling me that you have developed feelings for me in the past 3 months I have been in recovery?” 

Fear was the only emotion in Bard’s eyes and they were wide to the point the whites almost exceeded the iris. It would have been funny if Thranduil hadn’t wanted to throttle the man where he stood. 

“Well, I wanted to tell you I loved you as soon as you opened the door but you’re so scary when you’ve just woken up. You’re scary now, please don’t kill me. I love you!” 

That was it. 

“You LOVE me? Is that so Mr I Will Never Love Again? IS that so?!” There was a mixed bag of emotions stirring up inside him but mostly the murderous intent was winning out. Killing Bard wasn’t really on the cards but he wasn’t going to let the man get away with nearly killing him for over a year even if he had no idea it was his fault. 

“You are very, very, very lucky that I just so happen to love you, too.” The iron grip on Bard’s shirt relaxed and he tried his best to smooth the deep wrinkles but it was not to be. Regardless, he had Bard looking at him with a sappy grin plastered over his pale face like he’d been told he’d won the lottery and not the affections of a highly problematic male. 

“R-really?” 

“As much as it now pains me to say this, yes, I do love you so very much. So much so that my heart could burst if I tried to contain it any longer.” The thumping of his heart was so hard in his chest that he was sure Bard could have heard it if he’d tried. Somehow things were falling into place now with such little effort. 

There had been a chance Thranduil would have found himself bitter about the whole thing and shunned Bard’s advances. Revenge should have been high on his list with the grinning idiot before him but he couldn’t bring himself to do anything other than lean in and press a kiss to his Bard’s lips. 

“Really, really.” 

[iwach4n]

Reminisce (Iwaizumi x fem!Reader)

This is incredibly self indulgent but by god i want to marry Iwa. I want to marry him so bad.

・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・

warnings: mild swearing

word count: 1889

read time: 7 minutes

11:30am was not a particularly early time to wake up, but considering that you had returned to the hotel room at 3:00 after hours apon hours of drinking, dancing and chatting with friends and family, it was actually quite impressive. You looked and felt a mess, with sweat remaining from the shower you had been too tired to take, hair sticking out in every direction and remnants of makeup, sloppily removed in early hours of the morning, smudged around your face. And yet, Iwaizumi was still looking at you like you were the most amazing thing on Earth.

"What?" you laughed, shifting closer to him under the covers.

"Just looking at my beautiful wife," he responded, with an expression so lovestruck it made you giggle more.

"I'm never going to get used to that."

It was his turn to laugh, pulling you closer against his bare chest, "You better, Mrs Iwaizumi, because I'm going to keep saying it."

You smiled with an expression mirroring his own. In the five years you had been together, you never got tired of mornings like these. Waking up in his arms, taking in every detail of his face, memorising exactly how his body felt pressed against yours. And now you were married. There was nothing better in the world.

"What did I do to get so lucky?" he mused, making you shove him half-heartedly with a laugh.

"Save the compliments for when I don't look like shit."

His arms didn't relent, wrapping around you and pulling you ontop of him. A soft kiss was pressed to your lips.

"I'm not kidding. If someone had told me seven years ago that I'd get to marry you, I'd be overjoyed, and also never believe them," Iwa said, before catching himself on his words.

"Seven years ago? You mean like first year?" you asked, a hint of amusement in your voice as you rested your chin on his chest. He groaned a little in embarrassment.

"Okay, so I may have lied when I said I started liking you at the start of third year."

You couldn't help but start laughing for real now.

"We didn't even talk in first year!"

"I know, but I was sixteen! What was I supposed to do, not fall for the cute girl who helped me with my English homework?" he defended as you rolled off him in your laughter, finding his reaction funnier than the actual situation.

"You're so adorable," you said, pecking him on the lips and giggling at his red face.

"Asking you for help with that English was probably the best decision of my life." His hand found its way to yours under the covers, calloused fingers intertwining with your soft ones.

"I can't believe that's actually what got you," your laughs were softer now. At the start of your relationship, you had been a little insecure as to whether Hajime liked you as much as he said he did, but you'd grown past that now. Though you sometimes wondered quite what he saw in you, you knew he wasn't lying about anything.

"You were pretty and nice to me and you told Oikawa to fuck off. At the time, that was like, my dream woman."

A snort escaped from your mouth as you nestled into the crook of his arm, tracing patterns along his chest.

"I think the moment I really fell for you was when I first saw you play in a match," you mused, remembering being dragged to watch with your friends in second year and not regretting it one bit. Your husband gave a small hum of encouragement, as if telling you to continue, so you did.

"I mean, I thought you were hot and cool and whatever before, but on court, you were just so... driven. You kept pushing for one more point," you said, eyes glued to your finger as it wove its way through invisible paths along his torso, "it was like a whole new side of you."

As you spoke, he had buried his face in your hair, and you felt him smile against your scalp.

"Honestly, that's the only way you would've fallen for me. I'd have been much more awkward if I'd known you were watching."

"Looking back, you were so awkward," you recalled, thinking back to your highschool days, "but at the time, I just thought you hated me or something."

"For real?" It was his turn to rumble in laughter.

"You were always avoiding me!" you said in defence, pouting at his growing laughs.

"I'm sorry for making you think that," he said, unable to keep the grin off his face, "you were so ridiculously pretty that I got nervous. And it's only gotten better from there."

"Someone's sappy today," you giggled as he rolled over, hovering over you. He only hummed in response, planting a sweet kiss on your lips, "but seeing as we're remembering the old times, remember when you first asked me out?"

These words were enough to make him groan and collapse off of you, arm going up to cover his reddening face.

"I wish I didn't. Most embarrassing moment of my life."

"I think I need to refresh your memory," you managed through giggles.

"No!" he groaned, "you do not."

"Oh, I'm going to."

Hajime always got embarrassed when you brought up how he asked you out on your first date because it was a prime example of how awkward he'd been at the start of your relationship. You still remembered it vividly, and his reaction to you telling the story was almost as cute as the image in your head, so you would remind him every chance you got.

"Can we talk about the proposal instead? I was a lot cooler with that one."

You ignored his pleas, beginning your narration, "Imagine it-"

"You told this like fifty times yesterday. Stop," he was laughing too, despite being bashful.

"This isn't just what I told yesterday. This is the unabridged version, just for you," you said, and he finally gave up on arguing with a sigh, "imagine it; the last week of third year, and it was coming to the end of a maths lesson - a class I didn't share with the hero of our story. In my head, I was thinking about the lovely ace, who is currently looking at me like if someone was to shoot him, he wouldn't complain, but that his dying wish would be for me to shut up. I was wondering if I should make a move on him."

Iwaizumi's face turns from one of annoyance to curiosity - he hasn't heard this part of the story. You'd never really told him what went through your head that day. Noticing his change of expression, you decided to expand on that train of thought.

"You see, there was only a week left. After that, I might not get the chance. I might never see him again - at least, this is what I thought, as I didn't know that we were both going to the same university the next year. Part of me thought that it was now or never, but I decided on never. He was cool and popular and always seemed confident. If he liked me, I thought, he would make a move himself. This thought crossed my mind as I began to pack my things, and then, as if on cue-"

Iwaizumi's arm returned to covering his face. This was his least favourite part of the story.

"My knight in shining armour burst in, having been let out of his class early, and shouted, in front of the whole class, '(Y/N), I really like you, and have for a while! Please go on a date with me!'"

Your husband let out a long groan at this, the embarrassment still fresh despite it having been five years. Usually, this is where you stopped. It was pretty much the end of the story. But you continued.

"Naturally, I agreed. But, as if things weren't already awkward enough, our good old friend Oikawa decided to pipe up from behind you-"

"Oh my god," Hajime interrupted momentarily, "I forgot about this bit."

"And the somewhat sweet confession was finished off with the lovely note of 'Woo! They're finally gonna bone!'. The end."

It appeared the little addition shook Iwa out of the annoyed mood the story usually put him in, because he uncovered his face and laughed reminiscently.

"We both got detention for that," he chuckled, pulling you back into his chest.

"Was it worth it?" you asked, knowing the answer but wanting to hear it anyway.

"Take a look around. We're married. Of course it was worth it," what was probably the hundreth kiss of the day was placed on your forehead, "I'd sit through a million detentions to keep you with me."

"Good thing you don't have to. I don't think I'd be able to go a million hours without you," you said, beginning to fiddle with his hair, "can I try and plait your hair?"

"No," was the short answer, "we're gonna talk about that first date I asked you on."

"Why?" you asked, cocking your head as your fingers left his hair. The date had been nice, but other than the fact it was your first with your now husband, there had been nothing particularly special about it.

"Don't think I've forgotten about when you tried to say you were hungry and instead said horny, and were so shocked by the fact that your mouth did that that you spilt your drink all over both of us."

"Oh my god, even I forgot about that."

"I'm gonna give you a dramatic narration."

"No!"

The rest of the morning and early afternoon was taken up like this - reminiscing about notable moments in your relationship. Everything from your first kiss, which had turned an uneventful 'date' of running errands together into a special one, to your first 'I love you's, which had slipped out on a late night call. Each of you gave vivid retellings of meeting the other's parents for the first time, which had gone swimmingly for Hajime, but had been incredibly awkward for you until his father made some comment about thinking his son was gay until then because of the amount of time he spent with Oikawa. That really broke the ice between you, but it put Iwaizumi into an adorably disagreeable mood for the rest of the night. Iwa finally got to talk about the proposal, which you had to admit had been very romantic, and then you talked about the wedding the night before.

Eventually, you moved on from the past and talked about the future. Where to go for your honeymoon, where you'd like to settle down one day, how many kids you'd like and when. You decided you'd move to the outskirts of Tokyo, and start a family in your late twenties. You settled on two kids, but maybe a third a little later on. And then, when you retired, you'd move to the Okinawa prefecture and live by the beach. By the time you got hungry enough to need to get up, you felt like your entire life was planned.

You couldn't wait to make it real and have more things to reminisce about.

[kinkyacademia]

Could I request a scenario or even headcanons (whichever is easier) with Overhaul of how he would be with fem s/o and she just so happens to have a erasure-like quirk.... (I’m sorry it’s so vague I can elaborate if necessary) thank you so much!

So the thing is it is 3:30AM and my dog is alseep next to me, hands not working, I want to write sex.Okay I ended up rewriting and finishing the request, but the fact that my intro was so dumb still makes me laugh XD

-Mod Pasta🍜🍝

💊You had met Overhaul when he was just starting the Shie Hassaikai, you being fresh out of a mediocre Hero Course and still struggling to find your place in the world.You were always told that hero life suited you, but that it would be hard to find work because of your quirk. Why did it have to be hard? Why were everyone’s compliments so backhanded? You wanted to do good, but it felt like the government didn’t care.

💊He pulled you out of that mess and depression, telling you that you were incredible, your quirk was a blessing, wrapping his arm around you without flinching. Without flinching. One of the first things he said to you was, “You’re clean, you may have a quirk, but it’s clean.”

💊That was about a year ago. Overhaul sometimes asked for you assistance with Eri’s “temper tantrums,” Or to teach certain members a lesson, or just to make himself feel temporarily clean. The more skin-to-skin contact he had with you, the better his mood would get that day. There were many parts to his business that you opposed, especially the use of Eri, but you didn’t want to be useless and deny him your service. This wasn’t the easy route you had to remind yourself. You were helping.

💊More contact meant less clothes, and despite his adverseness to germs, the closest he could get to you was sex. He was infatuated with you, and for the first time in his life, he opened his being to someone. It was all on his own terms, of course, but you were more than happy to oblige. You were helping a man achieve his dreams after all, and what was more desirable that a driven person?

💊You had to admit that Kurono throwing you at Chisaki like a happy pill was a bit annoying, but you also felt important. You were this important to one person, especially a very important man - this was what you wanted. You wanted to help others, and this did the job just fine despite the obvious drawbacks. Overhaul made it very clear that you could return to the hero world whenever you wanted, but reminded you of what would happen: You would be shunned for leaving for so long, you would never find work, you would fall into a pit of despair and never be recognized.

💊Technically you only needed to touch someone once to cancel their quirk for a couple minutes, but Overhaul obviously enjoyed your continued use.

On one particular bad day, you were drinking tea in the backyard when you heard footsteps approaching, blocking the sun from reaching you and casting a shadow, “Yes?”

“You’re needed (L/N),” It was short and sweet, but you knew what Kurono meant. His voice was strained, and you pushed yourself up slowly, giving him an apologetic smile.

“Is he okay?”

“Not exactly,” He nodded to the back door, and you felt a prick of annoyance at his rushed tone, but proceeded inside nonetheless. You went down a staircase, down a few winding stone halls, then found Kendo Rappa standing outside of Overhaul’s room, arms crossed in front of him as he pouted, glaring at you. You looked away, hoping he wouldn’t confront you.

As you passed him, reaching for the doorknob, he spoke up with a crackly tone, indicating how his conversation with the masked man went, “You’re going in? He’s pretty pissed,” he chuckled, reaching for your hand.

“That’s okay,” You giggled, waving him off, “Thank you though.”

“I warned yah,” He shrugged, looking up and down the hall before leaving you, throwing one last sentence over his shoulder, “We should fight!”

“Right,” You muttered, rolling your eyes. It was like his departing phrase: fight me, give me a battle, see you next round, etc. You pushed his warnings out of your head, taking a deep breath before opening knocking with one hand and pushing the door open, “It’s me.”

“Close the door,” Just as you were got inside, you were ordered around. You had to swallowed your pride and not state that that was exactly what you were going to do. Usually he praised the ground you walked on, but Kurono and Rappa were right: this was a particularly bad day, likely because of Rappa.

You sat in front of him while he looked over a set of papers, “Did Chronostasis send you?” He hummed, turning a page. You nodded.

“Yeah,” Your eyes traveled to a few books that had fallen from his shelves. The fact that they weren’t picked up made your nerves stand on end. The clean-freak himself wasn’t cleaning.

You got up to clean the books up, and he didn’t stop you. Once everything looked orderly, you turned to him, approaching him now from behind his desk, “I guess today was hard?”

“Correct,” He mumbled, getting to the last page, “I would rather my subordinates do what I ask of them without question, but some need motivation,” He clicked his tongue, rubbing his fingers over the paper delicately. It looked like he was trying not to crinkle it, but his anger caused the edge of the paper to turn in. He stared at it for a second, then slowly placed the paper on top of the stack, shaking his head with a groan of disappointment.

You smiled, gingerly placing a hand on his shoulder to provide the much-needed relief he craved, “They’ve fought before, but last time their reasons were jaded. You provide a clear goal: Maybe that’s what’s important to them,” You gave him an experimental squeeze. He didn’t respond, his eyes closed as he thought. A moment passed, and you began to feel an awkward silence brewing. Suddenly he pushed his chair back, reaching up to grab your wrist and pull you down to eye level.

“I’m their boss. You,” His eyes travelled to your chest, then back up, causing your cheeks to flare, “You’re too perfect to give trash like them excuses.”

“Oh,” You whispered, heart pounding. Your surroundings became sharp and in better focus as adrenaline surged through your veins, “Thank you.”

He let go of your hand, and you crouched in front of him awkwardly, awaiting his word. You found trouble thinking for yourself these days: it was just so easy to let Overhaul make the decisions. He pulled his gloves off, putting them in his jacket pocket before removing the coat and placing it on the back of his chair. You knew what was coming, and it excited you to no end.

“You should be ready,” He started working on his mask, and you eyed the awkward man before reaching under your skirt and hooking a finger around your shorts and panties. You stepped out of them, looking around. You ended up placing them on the ground next to his seat, turning back to him. He was staring at your chest, and you instinctively went to cover your breasts.

“Over-”

“Leave the skirt,” He continued to stare with hungry eyes, “I enjoy all of you, (F/N),” He raised a hand up to form the come here sign. You obliged, and he reached a hand out to your legs. You too the cue to climb onto his seat, straddling him and sitting on his knees, “You’re a pure form of human.”

“I think you underestimate your own worth, you’re just as amazing as me,” Your hand came up to his neck, resting against it as your quirk took hold once again. His mask was on the desk now, but a black one underneath had taken its place. You rarely got to kiss him, but he seemed to enjoy the contact of the kiss rather than the emotions behind it. He was better at expressing those through speech and touch.

“We’re powerful together,” He settled that, “But that’s not important now… Tell me about your day,” You chuckled- he was quite monotonous when it came to casual talk. His bare hands went to your shirt, pulling it off of you. He wasn’t one to hold back - the moment your shirt was off, he went to your bra. Skilled with his hands, it dropped immediately and they went to your breasts.

“It was-” You had to pause when he took your shirt off, “Good! I went and made lunch for Eri. She’s so big now,” You hummed with content, then was cut off by his roaming fingers, “You’re cold,” You whispered with a laugh. He stopped for a second, then nodded slowly.

“You’re warm,” He stroked your breasts downward, his fingers reaching your skirt. His eyes flickered up to your own, “You know I enjoy watching you.”“Yeah,” Excitement bubbled within you as you looked down at his lap. Your boyfriend could even be labelled as nice after sex, having been as intimate as possible with the girl who gave him the relief of being “clean.”

He started to seem impatient, leaning closed to you. Your stomach did flips, and you reached for his belt buckle, undoing it and pulling it off. You placed it on the ground, then undid the button and zipper to his pants, pulling them down a bit. All that was left was his boxers, and this was where the leader-type man would usually take the reigns. You were given them for today, however, and you had some feeling of pride in it

You pulled the hem down, enough for his semi-erection to spring loose. You gently gripped it in your hand, enjoying the veins and texture. The rest of his body had a smooth, flawless feeling, likely due to using his quirk on himself. He hadn’t done the same to his member, and the contrast was a strange, but interesting aspect of the man. His breath caught for a second, and your eyes flickered to his own. They seemed expectant. You gave an experimental pump, and he took a short, sharp breath. You felt your own core aching - you had never been with someone other than Overhaul. The Hero Course strictly forbid fraternizing, and everyone was too good two shoes to try anything serious. Overhaul’s style, the way he ordered you, the way he pleased you - it was all you knew, and you knew you liked it a lot. He always left you satisfied, if not yearning for another round.

You raised your hand to your mouth, licking it before going back down to lubricate him. You bit your bottom lip, seeing he was fully erect and ready. Your heavy-lidded eyes met his own, and his hands made their way under your thighs, lifting you up slightly, “I’m growing impatient.”

“Sorry,” You chuckled, pushing yourself up on the arms of his chair and scooting forward. You reached down and position himself at your wet entrance, already remembering the intoxicating pleasure. Overhaul was a scientist after all, and he took data in so he could improve results. Sex never got old with him. You slowly sat, and your sigh of pleasure mixed with his sigh of relief.

“You’re just… perfect, you know?” You smiled, taking a few seconds to adjust to how deep he already was inside of you. His hands returned to your ass under the skirt, his hands still cold against you.

“I am clean, never perfect,” He shook his head, and you pushed yourself up a bit, then sat back down on his member. You gasped at the deep feeling, rolling your hips forward to relish it. You could see his jaw clenched and you reached up to rub it.

“You’re perfect for me, I never want anyone else,” Your hero side showed a bit, and you raised yourself up again, starting to find a rhythm. You weren’t used to riding, but you learned quickly. You were finding out what felt deeper and oh god what made your head spin.

“I feel the same to you,” He squeezed your ass, and you yelped, then laughed, a small sigh of content escaping your lips. You were starting to like pleasing yourself on him, and you knew he liked being inside of you, so it was a win-win. As you used his shoulders to support your bouncing, you got a surprise when his hips instinctively bucked up into you. He swallowed hard, and you realized he was holding back for your own sake.

“Ah… Fuck…” You moaned, rolling your hips into his own. His hands shifted to wrap around your waist, using his small thrusts to get even deep than your bouncing. With the joint effort, both of you felt pleased. Even Overhaul was groaning, his teeth grit. Your head fell next to his own on the side of the chair, your breathing heavy. You knew you were close, and he was as well.

“Overhaul!” You both were startled by a loud shout from behind his door. You pulled back to look at him with dazed confusion, and when there was a bang on the door, he leaned over and grabbed your shirt off the ground. You pulled it on, but the moment you did, a very angry Rappa entered the room. Your blood ran cold - Overhaul was still inside of you!

Overhaul was much better at handling the situation than you. He whispered for you to grab your phone and just play on it until this was over. After a lengthy conversation about the politics of the Yakuza and where Rappa stood, he finally calmed down. You had to use all your might not to react, looking away from Rappa and hiding yourself in the crook of Overhaul’s neck, looking at your phone mindlessly.

Rappa finally left, slamming the door as he did so. Once he was gone, you both waited a moment before you pulled back with a laugh, placing your phone on his desk and then turning to him, “That was close, good thing I kept my skirt-” When you saw how intense his eyes were, you had to do a double take. He’d really been holding back all of those emotions this whole time?

His hands slid under your ass, and he suddenly stood up, taking a step forward to place you across his desk, “It certainly was (F/N).”

“D-Do we get t-to finish?” You tried to play dumb, but your heart was racing, face flushed as his hands slid to your thighs. He grabbed them and pulled back, then snapped his hips forward. You were yet again at his mercy.

“Wait, I thought I was-” You began to whine, then was interrupted by another snap of his hips. A small gasp escaped your lips.

“I still own over you,” He reminded you, “I own over your perfect existence,” He immediately started at a fast pace, already riled up from being edged before. You had to grab the edge of the desk, back arching. You choked back a cry of surprise and pleasure.

“Ah-yes!” You exclaimed, legs wrapping around his back and keeping him close. You were both still aroused and stimulated from before, so you felt your orgasm coming quicker than expected.

“You’re perfect in every way,” He was barely panting, while your breathing was hot and heavy. You whined, gasped, and moaned, pitiful at best against his expertise when it came to your body. Each of his thrusts hit you in a pleasurable place, and you couldn’t hold back for long. Riding him was nothing like this - he was the master of pleasuring you.

“Fuck…” You quickly reached your climax, and once you did, you cried out and pulled him close to you, toes curling and muscles taught. He stayed buried inside of you, then once you were finished, you felt his own orgasm fill you with warmth. His level of control over his own body still surprised you.

After calming down and him pulling out of you, he set to cleaning up the mess with wipes and his quirk. You got your clothes back on, making sure he was better now. His mood was vastly improved, “Should I stay?”

“You may if you would like to,” He shrugged, wiping his chair down. You happily did so, sitting on his chair once he had moved onto the desk. He gave you a temporary glare, and you just giggled childishly. He rolled his eyes.

“I’ve got to say, that was a pretty silly situation.”

“It was,” He agreed, but you still wanted a laugh from him. You dramatically pouted.

“Aw, but you never laugh! Everybody laughs,” You whined, kicking your legs out.

“I’m not everyone,” He commented, then glanced at you once again, “I laugh. I laughed last night at dinner.”

“Chuckled,” You pointed at him, and he nodded slowly.

“That’s laughing,” He paused for a second, then nodded to himself as if to confirm his own belief. This left you laughing as well: he was just so odd.

[were-all-idjits-here]

Still Alive, Part I: What About Dean?

Request from @totallyluciferr​ : the reader lives in a universe where Supernatural is fiction and they’re a big fan of SPN, so the reader is re-watching the episode where Dean and Castiel gets zapped to Purgatory, they suddenly get zapped to Sam and Amelia’s house. Then the reader tries to tell Sam that Dean is trapped in Purgatory and needs help. The reader ends up meeting and saving Dean. 

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: angst, cursing

A/N: this was meant to be a one-shot, but I have no self control and it got away from me and became super long. In an attempt to not make this 5000 miles long or make the end super rushed, I’ll be posting this in three parts. Hoping to have all three up by the 27th. @totallyluciferr​ thank you so much for being patient while I took forever to write this. Some mental health issues have made writing hard, but I want to make sure I take the time to get this done well the first time.

~~Read here on AO3~~

You noticed how heavy your head felt before you even opened your eyes. A hard, cold surface laid beneath you and you frowned. The last thing you remember was laying on the couch in your shitty apartment, trying to drown out your screaming neighbors on one side and the blaring music on the other with your favorite show, Supernatural. It had partially been working, even if you were annoyed at having to turn subtitles on to be able to understand some of what they were saying. You had almost nodded off right when Dean and Cas got zapped to Purgatory in the season 7 finale when there had been a bright white light. Had you fallen to the floor maybe? But what had the light been?

You groaned and slowly sat up, bringing a hand up to your head. Your forehead bumped something cold and you slowly opened your eyes, backing up a bit. You were suddenly very awake as you realized there was a gun pointed at you. You were even more awake when you followed the hand holding it up to the face and realized you were sprawled out on a nicely manicured lawn in front of Sam Winchester.

The two of you stared at each other for a moment before you broke the silence with a loud, “What the fuck!”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m thinking,” Sam growled, still pointing his gun at you. “Who the hell are you and what do you want?”

You blinked, jumping as you heard the safety click off. “Take it easy. I have no clue how I got here. I was on my couch one minute and now I’m here and this can’t possibly be real and holy shit, I must’ve had too much to drink and oh my god you’re Sam fucking Winchester, I thought this was just a TV show, what the fuck is going on—”

“Okay, easy, easy!” Sam lowered his gun, but still kept it tightly in his hand. He frowned before holding out a hand to help you up.

You hesitantly took it and let him pull you to your feet. Sam clicked the safety back on the gun and tucked it into the waistband of his pants. He roughly grabbed your wrist and yanked you across the backyard, up the steps of the back porch and through a back door into a dimly lit kitchen. You recognized the house as Amelia’s from the show and realized you must be somewhere either in or close to the season 8 premiere. In or close to the season 8 premiere—holy hell, had you seriously somehow been Blue scadooed into the TV? That couldn’t be possible, no fucking way—

“Hey, hey, hey—breathe!” Sam suddenly knelt in front of you from where he’d been rummaging through the cupboards. You suddenly realized the faint wheezing sound you’d been hearing was coming from you and it felt like your heart was about to beat out of your chest. You grabbed the table for support, your palm coming down flat on top of a fork. The prongs stung your hand, confirming this was real. You wouldn’t be able to feel pain in a dream, right?

A brown paper bag was suddenly thrust in front of you and you panted into it gratefully. After a few minutes, you could feel your pulse and breathing slow.

“That’s it, nice and slow,” Sam said, taking a deep breath in and slowly blowing it out. You mimicked him for several minutes until you felt coherent enough to set the bag down on the counter. “Hold this,” Sam said quietly, gently putting the silver fork into your hand. When nothing happened, he handed you a glass of water next. “Drink this.” Again, nothing happened and Sam sat down across from you, seeming satisfied.

You let a deep breath out slowly before asking, “How the hell is this real?”

Sam shook his head. It took all your restraint not to laugh at the famous wifi-shaped wrinkles that formed above his brow. “I don’t know.” He ran a hand through his hair, then down his face. “What did you mean you thought this was just a TV show? And how do you know my name?”

“It’s gonna sound insane.”

“I specialize in insane. Try me.”

You swallowed hard, taking another drink of water. “So, um…I came from this…world, I guess, where your and Dean’s lives are a TV show and you’re fictional characters. I was actually on the episode that shows the events that happened probably…six-ish months ago, fell asleep, saw a bright white light and then woke up in your backyard.”

Sam nodded. “Dean and I got zapped to some sort of universe forever ago where our lives were a TV show. We kept getting mistaken for the actors.”

“Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki?”

“Yeah, that sounds about right. Why would you wanna watch our lives anyway? It’s just a bunch of darkness and death and despair.” His face seemed to sink at the last sentence and you noticed his dark circles and sunken cheeks. You glanced at the clock you noticed behind him to see it read 3:30am. So he wasn’t sleeping. It made sense after everything he’d been through.

“Well, I mean…at first, it was kind of cathartic, watching the good guys win, ya know? Then I just got so attached to you and Dean as characters—er, people, I guess, that I just kept watching. I just wanted to root for you and watch you win.”

Sam smiled sadly. “Well, thanks, I guess. Haven’t been a lot of wins lately.”

“Yeah,” you said quietly, “I’m sorry. Thanks for saving the world and stuff.”

Sam gave you a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, avoiding your gaze as he picked some stray paint off the edge of the kitchen table. “So…what did you mean when you said you were on the episode about events six months or so ago? What happened?”

You hesitated, realizing how fragile of a state he was still in. “You sure you wanna know?”

His dark circles seemed even more prominent now. “When we…lost Dean?”

“Yeah,” you barely whispered.

Sam nodded, biting his lip and looking at his lap, renewing his efforts to pick at the table. The two of you sat in awkward silence for several minutes.

“I’m sorry you had to watch that,” you finally murmured.

“Yeah, me too.” He paused. “I’ve seen my brother die before, but it always felt like I could bring him back, ya know? This time…there isn’t even a body left to bring back. He’s really gone for good this time.” He sniffled. “But, I’ll figure out how to get you home, don’t worry—”

“Dean’s not dead,” you blurted.

Sam’s head shot up and he stared at you bug-eyed. “What?”

“He’s not dead. When monsters die, they go to Purgatory, which is where Dick went. That’s where Dean and Cas are. They’re still alive.”

Sam squinted suspiciously. “Says who? The show?”

You nodded. What followed was a long string of questioning from Sam about events from the show, no doubt trying to find out how accurate it was to his real life—which still felt insane to say; you still weren’t completely convinced one of your neighbors’ drug fumes hadn’t floated through your vents and triggered some sort of acid dream—and you answered them to the best of your ability.

By the time 45 minutes had flown by full of questions, you sighed. “Look, Sam, you said you’d been to my universe, so you know it’s a real place. I passed all your tests, so I’m not a monster that’s trying to drag you out of your apple pie life. How long has it been since Dean and Cas disappeared?”

“Six months,” Sam answered, his face still skeptic.

“Okay, so Dean was trapped in Purgatory for a year in the show. There’s a portal in Purgatory that lets humans escape, since they’re not supposed to be there. I don’t know how the hell we would do it, but if we can find where he emerges from Purgatory and somehow get a message to him, we can get him out.”

Sam opened his mouth to reply when a woman’s voice behind you suddenly said, “Sam? What’s going on?”

You spun around to see a sleepy Amelia standing in her PJs, looking at you blearily with wary dark eyes.

Sam glanced at you, then smoothly said, “She was on her way home from a friend’s sleepover and got lost. She stopped here to ask for help. I know her address and I’m gonna drive her home.”

Amelia frowned. “You were on your way home from a friend’s sleepover at almost five in the morning?”

“Things were getting a little too rowdy for me.” You hoped you looked and sounded convincing. “They’re big partiers and I guess I didn’t realize how big till the drugs came out and…” You did your best to look sheepish and shrugged. “I noped out of there.”

“Oh, yikes,” Amelia said. She looked at Sam. “You’ll be back soon?”

“Yeah,” he answered, grabbing a familiar set of car keys off the counter behind him. He stood and gave her a parting kiss. “Go back to bed. I’ll join you soon.” He motioned for you to follow as Amelia trudged back up the steps to the bedroom.

You stood in awe for a moment as Sam led you to the garage. The Impala. Baby. You gently reached out and touched the immaculate black paint, feeling a strange sense of calm as you looked over the car. Sam watched you from the driver’s side. “Big part of the show, I take it?”

“It’s practically its own character,” you replied. “If something happened to Baby, I’d probably cry.”

Sam chuckled as he climbed in. “Dean would’ve loved you.”

You climbed in after him, making sure to take care with how you shut the door. You sighed as you settled down on the leather seat. This felt good. This felt like home. “Would, Sam. He’s still alive.”

Sam glanced at you warily before opening the garage door and firing up the engine. He didn’t reply as you backed out of the driveway and sped down the road. “There’s a motel about five miles away. I’ll get you a room for a couple days while I figure out how to get you home. Don’t worry about the bill.”

“I don’t want to go home, Sam, I want to find Dean.”

“Listen, this isn’t a life you should want just because some TV show romanticizes hunting. Hunting isn’t some noble, epic good versus evil battle. It’s brutal and all it has is death and darkness and pain. You lose people all the time, there’s risk of you dying all the time, you see things you can never unsee—”

“Yes, I know, I do watch the show. I’m not saying the life is like that, I’m saying you’re doing something. You’re saving people and through that, proving your worth. Plus it’s not like I don’t have my own trauma, you know. My life home is shit. I don’t even have anyone or anything, a shit apartment, a shit job—”

“I’m not saying you don’t have your own trauma or that it isn’t as valid. But you seriously think this is better? If it weren’t for Amelia, I wouldn’t have anyone right now either.”

“But Dean’s alive, Sam! We can save him!”

“Just stop talking about it, okay?”

“Why won’t you believe me? I aced your quiz back in the kitchen.”

“I just don’t know if I believe you. That’s a show, it’s Hollywoodized! This is real life!”

“Do you really not believe or do you just not want to believe me?” Sam didn’t reply, but you could see how white his knuckles were as they gripped the wheel. You had always been frustrated with the fact that Sam didn’t look for Dean in the show, but had always held a level of sympathy for him. That level was quickly evaporating. If it was Dean you were talking to, he probably would’ve taken any chance—no matter how small—that his brother was alive and done something with it. You saw the motel fast approaching out the window and knew you were quickly losing your chance. “How many times as Kevin called you, hm? Kevin needs help, I have proof that your brother’s alive and we can save him and you’re seriously just gonna sit here on your ass—”

The Impala’s tires screeched as Sam made a hard right into the motel parking lot, barely putting the car in park before yanking the keys out of the ignition. “Stay here,” he growled before slamming the door closed behind him and stomping into the lobby.

You fumed in your seat, pulling out your phone to find that you did have signal. You quickly opened the Notes app and jotted down the place where you remembered Dean emerges from Purgatory in the show before you forgot. Since someone wasn’t interested in helping you, maybe you would just have to make a visit yourself. But he wouldn’t escape for another six months. How the hell were you going to speed that time frame up? Witchcraft, maybe? But you didn’t know anything about hunting. If you tried to contact a witch, you would end up dead for sure.

Just as you were googling where the nearest library was, a knock on your car window made you jump. Sam stood there, still fuming and holding two keys in his hand. You rolled your eyes and got out, following him into room 205 on the second floor. He slammed the door behind you, pointing a long finger at you. “You stay in this room until I can figure out a way to get you home—and you are going home. Don’t get any funny ideas.”

“So you’re trapping me here? Should I assume both of those keys are for you then?”

He handed over a key, along with a credit card to your surprise. “This is for clothes and food. I don’t know how long it’ll take me to get you home.” He handed you his phone next. “Put in your number and name.”

You begrudgingly complied and handed him your phone to do the same.

“Stay,” Sam said again as he made his way towards the door. “You’ll thank me later.”

“What about Dean?”

Sam sighed, pausing in the doorway. “We’ll see. But there’s no way he’s still alive.”

“I’m telling you, there is.”

You saw Sam’s shoulders heave for a brief moment. “I’ll look into it.” With that, he slammed the door behind him and you heard the click of the lock, completing your cage.

[mikecardenmpreg]

hello and welcome to another installation of “lauren’s shitty life” hosted by me, your host, lauren (and if you follow me on twitter, sorry i won’t shut up about this it’s only that it’s affecting my entire life)

you may or may not have gathered from my “trying to cover it up with humor” posts that i have gallstones. they are, in fact, making my life a living hell. it hurts to eat. and i really like eating. these last 8 or so months (or however long who fucking knows anymore) have been just one drawn out game of russian roulette: food edition. me after every big meal:

so i had a particularly bad attack at my friends’ place last week. it was far from my first attack so i knew the drill but it was a really intense one. catch me on the floor writhing and agonizing, like i do when you eat too much at a friends’ place. they posited a fun little theory: perhaps these pains weren’t just heartburn like i had been claiming, but maybe something i should probably see a doctor about. i thought. hmm. you guys might be right. and then did nothing about it because i was too weak from the agony in my ribcage to even speak or breathe. nearly passed out on the drive home because i could not get enough oxygen to my brain because expanding my chest region was almost impossible. probably should have gone to the er for this but

so naturally i had another attack the very next day. i was extra bummed about this because for once in my life, thanksgiving hadn’t been a total shitshow and i was excited to tell people about my totally average, drama-free thanksgiving! cue the writhing.

commence rapid fire googling while also rapid fire writhing on the floor! “searing pain upper right side ribcage” gives you about 100,000 results of “your fucking gallbladder you fucking moron”. and i went oop. woke up my parents at like midnight to complain and they go “call the advice nurse”. yeah. midnight on thanksgiving. someone’s definitely gonna pick up. also i can’t breathe because it hurts. thanks for that.

called the advice nurse the next morning and they scheduled me for an a video appointment with the first available doctor. let me tell you. i already had two things going on that day: had to take my car in for service and also it was black friday record store day. i could not take the day off. it was not allowed. so i spent my whole day bouncing between [where i work] and [nearby city where my car gets serviced] on the busiest shopping day of the year while also waiting for my video appointment with an unknown doctor about something kinda scary. not a fun or productive day for me. 

the doctor ended up booking me an ultrasound appointment because she came to the same conclusion i did: gallbladder’s haunted. but as it was friday afternoon, i had to wait until monday morning to go in. fun, productive weekend for me! i love being in purgatory. meanwhile, i’m deprived of my favorite fucking activity: stuffing my god damn face. i LOVE eating. i LOVE LOVE LOVE eating!!!! sunday night i had what was probably my last fried chicken sandwich for a very long time. it was good. but i didn’t enjoy it because it was overshadowed by guilt. 

went to the hospital before work on monday to get my ultrasounds. highlight: totally confused the ultrasound tech by wearing men’s deodorant despite being a woman. she wouldn’t stop talking about how long she’s been single and how the smell of men’s deodorant sends her. the poor girl. anyway that’s completely unrelated. she pretended like she couldn’t read the ultrasounds and sent me off with a “maybe.......don’t eat?” really reassuring girl.

my results came in later in the day (again, not a productive work day for me) to reveal i had two gallstones. my doctor asked me how i wanted to proceed. i was like. girl. you’re the doctor. you tell me. i sent her back a very long email about the last however many months and the severe pain i was in and the family history and the whole thing. this, by the way, coinciding with my fucked up back is hilarious. 2020 had its kiss for me. anyway. she emailed me back with just “surgery referral sent”. okay. 

surgery calls me to set up a video appointment with a PA. they do not tell me the point of this appointment. i do not care, but am pleasantly surprised how fast this is all moving. my video appointment gets scheduled for thursday, one week and one day after my initial “oh fuck” moment. the video appointment goes well. the PA tells me about my options but also says that two of the three options are basic horseshit and the only real option is full-on gallbladder removal. i’m chill with this. i’m done. just take the fucking thing out. we discuss diarrhea for too long. i ask how long recovery might take. he doesn’t have an answer because it all depends on how they have to extract the stupid idiot bile sack. the appointment ends on a less than hopeful note: someone will call either that day or the next to schedule surgery but it might be a wait before i can get in. i’m like, okay, that’s fine. i can wait a bit. it’s been 8 or so months. what’s a few more weeks?

well. i have another gallbladder attack that night. it lasts 8 hours. eight. fucking. hours. can’t sit. can’t stand. can’t lay down. can’t do anything but suffer. i eventually fall asleep around 4:30am. i wake up at 10, just in time for general surgery to call and tell me, i shit you not, that someone will be calling me soon. i cannot go back to sleep. i have to go to work. i am exhausted and frustrated and angry that i’ve just had my third gallbladder attack in 8 days. i probably should have gone to the er. definitely should not have eaten dinner.

no one calls me until 3:30 in the afternoon. and when they finally do, it’s to tell me they cannot schedule my surgery. they are fully booked through january. i am put on a waitlist in case someone cancels their surgery and i can be squeezed in. because this surgery to remove my defective gallbladder is considered “elective” and not “emergency”, i have to potentially wait at least two months. my gallbladder feels like this

and i have to wait two months because it isn’t an emergency. 3 gallbladder attacks in 8 days and it’s not an emergency. my digestive system is not functioning properly anD IT’S NOT AN EMERGENCY????? if any single person felt the way i did after eating, this would not be deemed elective. my body is not working. i cannot eat without fear of pain. i have already lost a noticeable amount of weight because i’ve been avoiding food. i need it out. it need it out!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

i left work early, cried all the way home, got home, cried some more, fell asleep, woke up, and ate the saddest dinner: one quarter cup steel cut oats with honey and cinnamon. untoasted, unbuttered sourdough bread. unsugared tea. water.

this is my life for the foreseeable future. is this a good time to mention that my absolute favorite food is curry? a nice hearty, spicy, yogurt-y curry. and here i am. thinking about the plain white rice my gallbladder is gonna make me eat for the next two months.

i’m so hungry.

[fertility-journey]

Birth Story

We tried many natural labour inductions methods to support our due date of Wednesday 24 March including; x3 acupuncture, x2 shiatsu massage, sex, long walks, raspberry leaf tea, dates, prune juice, and spicy food.

We gave birth to a beautiful healthy boy at 7:29pm Saturday 3 April 2021 (Easter weekend) weighing 3.27kg and measuring 51cm.

Our hospital offered us a debrief session with the head nurse and potentially obstetrician.

Short version

Having done a stretch and sweep earlier in the week on Monday at 1cm dilated, we were admitted to hospital on Friday evening to commence induction with prostaglandin gel. On Saturday morning in the birthing suite my waters were broken and oxytocin commenced an hour later since I hadn’t progressed beyond 1cm dilation. I was administered an epidural so I wouldn’t feel the contractions but knew they were happening via being hooked up to an Electric Fetal Monitoring (EFM) machine. I progressed to 4cm dilation and later 8cm dilation however each vaginal exam caused baby’s heart rate to drop. This called for an emergency caesarean as it was later found baby’s head was swollen and in malposition slightly transverse. The operation caused a postpartum hemorrhage (PPH) on my uterus where I lost over 1L blood. After being wheeled into recovery, I was then able to have baby placed on me for skin to skin. Once back in the room, drugs had worn off and I could feel one slow contraction for approximately 1.5 hours which was the worst pain of my life. The days following the birth was all about recovery and breastfeeding. I had two units of blood transfusion and iron infusion to try restore my hemoglobin levels which were halved. I had managed to stand up in the shower, do a poo and by the end of the week, walk down the hallway. Breastfeeding is a challenge with no milk supply so there were many discussions about progress each day and using donor milk and formula through supplemental devices to avoid bottle feeding. We were ready to head home Thursday morning after being in the hospital for almost a week. I cannot appreciate enough having flowers in my room since I didn’t leave it for days!

Long version

On Monday 29 March being 40w5d we went into the birthing suite to do a stretch and sweep. This was very uncomfortable as I squeezed my partner’s hand and looked into his eyes. One of the midwives was helpful in reminding me about hypnobirthing breath. Our obstetrician advised that I was 1cm dilated so hopefully baby would arrive soon. The midwife showed us a stretch to help relax my pelvis.

Our obstetrician wanted us back for induction on Wednesday or Thursday because of Easter weekend however we asked to push it out until Saturday.

On Friday 2 April being 41w2d we were admitted to hospital at 4pm to be given prostaglandin induction gel at 6pm. An electrical fetal monitoring (EFM) machine is used before/during/after. This was done in our private hospital room by a midwife and was once again very uncomfortable/painful. I was still only 1cm dilated. A different midwife returned at midnight for another treatment.

The following morning, Saturday 3 April being 41w3d we went to the birthing suite to receive a final treatment of prostaglandin induction gel by the midwife at 6:30am. This time I used a small amount of gas to ease the pain. There had been no change in my dilation.

Later, around 11:30am our obstetrician came in and broke my waters. I used the gas at a higher dose to ease the pain where I saw psychedelic colours for a brief moment. We thought we’d have time from here to continue waiting for labour to occur but was informed we’d start oxytocin within the next hour. It was suggested we go walk up and down some steps outside but was influenced to get an epidural. We had written in our plan that we don’t want this suggested and if we wanted it, we’d ask for it. So since they did suggest it, I thought I mustn’t be handling the pain well from the other procedures. I also thought that this was maybe a call to surrender and go with the flow. We had no time to go do stairs since the anesthetist was already in the hospital nearby and everything had to be set up ready to go on me for him to perform. We later found out that we shouldn’t have been rushed into this decision because the anesthetist is on call and could’ve simply come back.

The anesthetist ended up coming in later so there would’ve been time to walk a few stairs. He gave me the epidural which hurt and the midwife attached a catheter. This now meant I could not get up and leave the bed and would have the EFM constantly on. One of the side affects was feeling itchy across my chest.

The oxytocin could then commence to try start contractions. I couldn’t feel contractions since I’d had the epidural but the EFM showed I was. I was getting very shakey as a side effect but because of the calm environment, I could use my breath to suppress the shakes and try send baby downwards.

A different midwife started the next shift who was caring. She did a vaginal examination which I didn’t feel because of the epidural and said I was 4cm dilated. Moving into the evening, I had reached 8cm dilation with our obstetrician performing another two vaginal exams. Each time, baby’s heart rate would lower from having his head touched.

The song ‘Waiting’ by Kian started playing from my labour playlist. I said to my partner ‘how about the name, Kian?’. A quick google showed this meant ‘grace of god’ in Sanskrit, ‘ancient’ in Irish, and ‘king’ in Persian. All beautiful meanings which were discussed under fake candlelight in our calm birthing suite.

Now at approximately 7pm, our obstetrician made the call to do an emergency caesarean due to baby’s erratic heart rate and the fact I hadn’t progress from 8cm dilation. Everything changed quickly from here as a few extra people entered the room and I was maneuvered onto a different operation bed.

I was being wheeled to theatre and when arriving on the floor, met by a different anesthetist who was saying lots of disclaimers including that this operation could result in death - just what you want to hear. I required some further drugs for the operation so she was testing that I couldn’t feel the cold ice packs being placed on my body. She commended me on how calm I was or doing a good job at faking it! I was very conscious about remaining as calm as possible to ensure things could go as smoothly as possible.

It was exceptionally cold in the theater with many people in the room since everyone has an assistant. My partner was getting changed into scrubs and allowed to enter seated beside me once everything was set up. Coldplay was being played on someone’s phone.

Though probably only 15 minutes, it felt like a long time having the operation to retrieve baby. He came out safely and my partner got to announce he’s a boy. When I saw him I just said ‘oh my god’. He arrived at 7:29pm weighing 3.27kg and 51cm long. He had a swollen head which has been in malposition slightly transverse and had tiny cut on his eyebrow from the surgery tools. I had the opportunity to give baby a kiss.

From there things changed further, the cold had caused my shaking to dramatically increase and I couldn’t control it with the same breath I’d been practicing for hours in the birth suite prior. I was given some drugs to suppress the shaking and then the side effects of this was that I started vomiting. Because all this was happening, I didn’t have the opportunity to engage with baby as I needed to focus on myself. Warm towels were placed around my head.

My partner was able to look at the placenta which had a short umbilical cord which could also be a reason why baby wasn’t coming out.

I also started to experience some blood loss where my partner and baby left the room so staff could focus on me. I had a postpartum hemorrhage (PPH) on my uterus and lost 1.2L of blood. Essentially, once the placenta is delivered, the uterus should stop pumping blood to it and contract but for some reason it didn’t do this. Because I was a low risk pregnancy, there were no previous indications this could have happened. We read later that PPH has an incidence in Australia of between 5-15% and is one of the leading causes of maternal mortality.

Because there are numerous layers to the uterus, I was injected with drugs into four corners of my uterus to stop the bleeding as it was unknown where exactly the bleeding was coming from. This gave me a throbbing headache so I think I received some other drugs to counteract that which again made me vomit. If the drugs didn’t work things would have got more surgical and escalated quickly.

Once things had settled I was wheeled into the recovery room. Someone gave me water and I couldn’t believe how good it tasted. My partner entered the area and was shirtless having done skin to skin with baby. Baby was placed on my chest and I’m sad to say it’s the last thing I wanted but logic came in knowing it was so important for us to bond and physically connect. I got upset seeing the photo of baby on me with my head turned the other way. I was exhausted.

Following this, we were wheeled back to our hospital room and pain kicked in. My uterus needed to contract to its smaller size. Rather than periods of seconds/minutes or ‘waves’, I experienced a ‘tsunami’ of a long contraction with the most pain I’ve experienced in my life. I kept yelling “Omm” and then started profusely tapping my third eye trying to stimulate my parasympathetic nervous system. My partner was concerned asking me what I was doing. I knew I had to tell him so he wouldn’t worry. It was so hard to speak that I yelled “to deal with the fucking pain” - sorry babe. My partner reckons this lasted 1.5 hours. It took a while to get the anesthetist back to administer me with morphine and then for it to kick in.

By the time everything had settled and my partner was ready to get into the bed beside me (now that I have my own hospital bed in our room) he thinks it was about 4am.

A doctor had come to put a canula in my forearm since the nurses couldn’t do it since I was too pail. This is so I could receive some kind of rehydration liquids. I also had compression socks on which were plugged into a intermittent pneumatic compression (IPC) device to keep blood flowing and ensure I didn’t get a blood clot. Some nurses tried to freshen me up with wipe cleaning on my body since I’d sweat so much from the contractions.

After a couple of hours of sleep I could eat some breakfast and then shower. I couldn’t believe that I couldn’t sit up or get myself out of bed. I was put onto a wheely chair to go to the loo where I was bleeding and be showered by a nurse. The nurse encouraged me to stand to leave the shower but I then said “I feel fainty” and fainted. The emergency button was pressed so a team of nurses came in to get me back onto the bed.

Shortly after, blood test results showed that my hemoglobin had dropped 50% from 120 pre labour to 60 now which explained why I was so pale and fainted. Apparently the minimum is 80. My obstetrician said she rarely recommends blood transfusions but believes I needed two bags which we proceeded to do that night. Later in the week I also received an iron infusion.

Overall what happened was the opposite of our birth preferences/ plan. We knew previously that an induction would lead to a cascade of intervention which is why we tried to hold off as much as we could. The hospital policy is to be induced at 41w3d. I just can’t believe that what we knew would happen, did happen. In the moment when you’re in the hospital’s care, you think it must be there right thing to do... because they know what your preferences are, so why would the recommend or suggest a practice if it wasn’t necessary or there wasn’t a problem?

The need for my body to recover has impacted my ability and confidence to produce my own breast milk which was just a constant pressure during the hospital stay. There was an overwhelming amount of professionals and nurses always entering the room to check on something or give advice on something. We relied on them to provide us with donor breast milk or formula which wasn’t always timely and was surprised to see that the meals provided weren’t postpartum nourishing. Though we weren’t allowed family or friends to visit because of Covid-19 guidelines we only just managed one hour of spare time to FaceTime family and a few friends to share the news of baby’s arrival on the Monday. Wednesday was the first time

I left the hospital room to walk up and down the corridor. Though heavily supported in the hospital (we particularly appreciate a few nurses and the head nurse), we were so ready to be discharged at 10am Thursday 8 April to get home. It had been almost one week since I’d had fresh air and been outside.

The following day Friday 9 April we announced on social media the arrival of our baby.