#when you've been fighting lanky bitches all night and you see yet another lanky bitch in the morning

[ghostradiodylan]

I don't usually do WIP Wednesdays, but this is a snippet of my WIP and it happens to be Wednesday... Posting a little preview for accountability because I really need to finish this and get it posted!

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His walk back to the lodge would be peaceful, scenic even, if not for the macabre circumstances. The woods are coming to life like they always do at daybreak. They’d been friendly, a cherished place of respite just a few short hours ago, but now each sound sets his teeth on edge, has his imagination conjuring an enemy approach to correspond with every rustling of grass, every breeze that moves through the canopy of leaves. He’s nearing his destination when Ryan’s paranoia actually manifests into something real, stops him dead in his tracks.

Someone or something is staggering out of the tree line and toward the lodge, pale and lanky and coated in blood. The sight of it kicks Ryan’s heart into overdrive. Chris Hackett is dead and the sun is up. Ryan knows, logically, that the monsters should be gone, but it sets off every alarm bell in his brain anyway, has him raising his rifle and switching off the safety, just in case. He stares into the distance for a few seconds more and is struck with a realization that shocks him so badly he nearly drops the gun. Instead he slowly lowers it and engages the safety again, letting it dangle from the strap over his shoulder. The tall figure he’s got in his sights is not a werewolf. Not anymore. 

“Dylan.”

Ryan breathes his name into the morning mist like a secret. 

Dylan’s usually fluffy hair is stuck down to his head with blood and rainwater. His formerly gray t-shirt is now mostly varying shades of deep red and is so thoroughly torn that it appears to be more hole than shirt, hanging off his torso like some sort of crudely-fashioned fishing net. His cropped jeans are shredded to ribbons up to his knees and his stilted gait, Ryan realizes, is likely due to him having lost his shoes when all the skin exploded off of his body. By Dylan’s typical standards, he looks pretty rough, but he’s just about the most beautiful thing Ryan can imagine seeing at the edge of the forest on this godawful morning.

He’s alive. He’s okay. Until this moment, Ryan hadn’t even consciously known that he’d been expecting another outcome. Truthfully, he hadn’t allowed himself to think about Dylan very much at all once he’d left for the Hackett house. He’d done some quick and necessary compartmentalization to focus on the more pressing problem of Laura and Chris. Now, he feels the protective numbness he’s wrapped around himself like a blanket shifting and falling away, his battered heart hammering as it fills with something that could only be hope. He hesitates for a moment, as though he’s afraid that calling out to him aloud will cause Dylan to dissolve into the ether like a ghost. Then Ryan takes a deep breath and finds his voice. 

“Dylan!” he shouts, and Dylan startles, his head whipping around in search of the sound. He spots Ryan and looks like he’s doing a double-take himself, his gore-spattered face alight with recognition and disbelief, like he can’t quite accept that what he’s seeing could be real either.

“Ryan?” he calls back, “Ryan!”

Ryan reaches a full sprint in Dylan’s direction before he even realizes that he’s running.

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[tamagochiie]

happy new year to you

pairing: tsukishima x fem!reader 

genre: angst (?), fluff

warning: none

synopsis: Its New Year's Eve and you're all alone. Well, not really.

Tsukishima, the only friend you've managed to make since you've moved from the country side, comes to visit you after work without any particular reason. Whether it's to fill the space during after hours at your work or pester you with his sarcasm and cockiness; he always seems to come back.

a/n: I wanted a brain break from writing the bonus chapter for the Kenma series: Life As We Know It. The more I worked on it, the more I got a headache, so I really dunno when I’ll be able to post it, so please be patient with me :( 

The clock strikes upon the final hour before the new year, and the glimmering streets of Shinjuku echo with hearty laughter and drunken cheers of joy.

Standing on the other side of the glass window, you watch as strangers flow past you in groups and in pairs, all seeming to have the time of their lives while you go back to busying yourself by mopping the creaky wooden floors of the barren, dim lit bar you work in.

Nostalgia, rather than jealousy, pours over your thoughts as you imagine what your friends back home could be doing. They’re probably preparing bento boxes together at Yachi’s house to see the hatsuhinode later; and the thought causes your lips as much as your heart to sink.

As much as you wanted to go home for the holidays, you’re the breadwinner and if making money meant working through the holidays, then you would do exactly that.

Ugh, I wanna be home.

It had been another long night spent with you deciphering a string of intricately slurred orders from one borderline drunkard to the next. Truth be told, if it wasn’t a part of your job, you wouldn’t converse with any of the customers or dive head first into a sea of personalities, but out of all eyes you’ve met and smiles you exchanged, the one that mattered to you most had yet to make his appearance.

That is, until you hear a knocking against the glass.

You flinch back to your senses and your attention is no longer settled on the tiny rain droplets sliding down the window, but to Tsukki. He lazily waves at you with a sly smirk painting across his lips. You smile widely, teeth showing and everything; you quickly motion him to come inside.

Any worry of him being later than he already is that weighed heavily on your shoulders suddenly becomes light as a feather and floats away as the wind from outside breezes in.

“You seem extra happy to see me tonight,” Tsukki cooes your name like he has many times before, and you’re usually annoyed. The only difference is, you don’t mind it this time. You let it slide because today has been a bit unkind.

His wavy blonde wisps barely graze against the frame of the door. With one hand buried deep in his jacket pocket and the other carrying a grocery bag,  he holds his head up high like his pride. His sunglasses perched proudly on the tip of his nose.

“Sorry I’m a bit late,” He sighs, ambling behind you as you make your way around to the other side of the island. He takes a seat on the stool across from you, shifting in place before setting the grocery bag down next to him. He leans all of his weight onto his elbows, placing his chin in the dip of his palm.

Through the green hue of his sunglasses, Tsukki watches you pull two tall glasses from below the bar and set it between the both of you. You swipe two cans of diet coke from the ice chest  and begin to prepare his usual: chilled diet coke with no ice.

It had something to do about his teeth being sensitive.

You pass him his glass and meet his gaze; a smug smile paints across your lips. “What’s with the shades, Tsukki? Were the stars too bright for you?”

He chuckles at your poor attempt of a joke and flips you off before taking a sip. Setting the glass down and keeping his collected disposition, Tsukki slides the shades off his nose.

Your lips sink to a frown and you suck the air between your teeth. A deep, trying sigh escapes you when you see his face sprinkled with fresh cuts and bruises.

“ God, you’re like a teenage boy.” You shake your head, pushing yourself off the counter.

“Hey, just remember that feeling you had when you saw me earlier,” His voice was gruff and croaky like he’d been punched in the throat, and by the looks of his face, it’s possible. “I saw that smile. You missed me.”

“You’re pretty cocky for someone who looks like they’ve been bitched slapped senseless.” You retort, rolling your eyes.

“You should see the other guys,” Tsukki teases, smirking. And though his tone is a bit impish, the fact he fought with more than one guy made you double take.

You relieve yourself with another deep sigh, leaving him behind as you go to the back to grab a first aid kit, a small bucket of ice, and cloth.

You’d only known him for a little while and you weren’t exactly close, but he was the only friend you had managed to make since you moved from the countryside for uni. He wasn’t the best company to have, but he wasn’t the worst either.

He was... good enough.

Since the night you met, it became a common occurrence to have him show up during the peak hours of the night all battered and bruised while you were closing up shop.

The midnight sky wept and the winds were not merciful, so you rushed to haul the chairs into safety before it could be whisked away. And just as you were about to carry in the bar's sign, you found him slumped into a corner, head tilted back.

His face looked like a badly bruised pear. His long, lanky legs stuck out to the narrow pathway, his feet soaked beneath the rain.

You were more curious than you were afraid, so against your better judgement, you inched closer to him, knelt beside him and checked for a pulse. As faint as it was, it was enough for you to gather the little strength you had left to prop him onto his feet and stagger back inside.

Breathless, you sat him in a booth, lulling his head onto the leather backrest of the couch before running to the back for the first aid kit and freezing diet coke because everything like that night, it was unlucky and there wasn’t any more ice.

It took him a while, but he eventually woke up; flustered and drenched in a mixture of rain water and his own sweat. Pupils dilated and full of adrenaline.

You struggled to get him to sit still, swatting away your attempts to help him until all the fight slowly left his body like a light bulb losing its energy. But when he was all able and well, he’d get up and walk out without even a thank you.

The days that passed would smear together like a poorly done Jackson Pollock painting that you would forget the whole thing had even happened.

That is until a familiar tall frame would stride into the bar one night, eyes searching the room till he found you.

Tsukki’s visits were sporadic at first, and it was always during after hours. He wasn’t as kind as he is now. Is he kind? He was like the dead of winter: painfully cold and bitter. At first, he wouldn’t bother a breath to say a single thought or even murmur a word.

Though, he’d trudge in looking tired, stumbling over his feet looking like he came fresh from a fight, or if he was lucky, just tired. He’d take a seat in front of you sometimes burying his head into his arms and take a nap or if you were lucky, he’d ask for a diet coke.

But nevertheless, his eyes are always the same: as light as the sun could gleam, but no sign of life. As far as you were concerned, he was merely a pretty shell.

You never understood why he kept coming back, especially since he pretty much gave you the cold shoulder for the first two months he cycled into his nightly visitations; but you never really bothered to ask.

You even stopped pestering him with any sort of questions about anything he did with his life, knowing full well he’d tell you to mind your own business.

Nevertheless, it doesn’t stop you from worrying.

“You should really stop getting into fights.” You move around the island and take a seat on the stool beside Tsukki, setting the first aid kit onto the table. “You scar more and more every time I see you.”

“Are you worried about me?” He chaffs, cooing your name in mockery. You ignore him and tell him to move a little closer, the fluorescent light flickers above you both, allowing you to see the cuts a little clearer.

He smells like old cigarette buds and cheap store bought soap. It’s a peculiar smell, but it isn’t as peculiar as his lifestyle.

“I’m annoyed by you.” You deadpan, beginning to dab away at the wound marking his forehead.

“Well, aren’t you gonna to ask me?” You grimace at him, harshly pressing the cotton against his wound. He flinches away from you and meets your overt eyes, “S-Sorry…”

“Even if I were to ask you, it’s not like you’d tell me.” Tsukki’s walls stand taller than his pride and are even more guarded than a mother to her own child.

“So, why keep helping me, huh?” He clicks his tongue and inches a little closer to you. He’s testing your sense of boundaries, but you’re unfazed. Instead you rip open a bandaid and slap it on him, causing him to seethe at you like he was a cat you threw into a tub of water. “I could be a serial killer, you know. Or someone really dangerous.”

You chortle, crinkling your nose at Tsukki’s cringe worthy strive to be mystifying. For the umpteenth time since he walked into your life, you bury your eyes into the back of your head.

“I like it better when you don't try so hard to be scary,” You tease, smiling at him and he mirrors you, playfully tilting his head just a little. “If you were gonna kill me, I’m sure you would’ve done it by now.”

You wipe off the dried speckles of blood and dirt sticking to his face. Though, the more you try to wipe it away, you begin to question what exactly he is capable of, and if it's his blood or someone else’s.

Like he usually does, Tsukki ignores you and shifts the conversation by asking you about your week. You tell him about your early morning class and the uncomfortable commute there. You lie about having lunch with your friends because tell him you didn’t have any to spend it with would be too embarrassing for someone as cocky as him to know.

There isn’t much about you to share; your life slides on the average side of the weighing scale of coolness. So, you worry you might be boring him, but as you clean the tiny scratch near the corner of Tsukki’s eye, you realize he’s looking at you like a shiny, lucky penny laying on the ground.

He’s looking at you with softness in his eyes and a subtle smile.

Fluttering. That’s what you feel tickling the pit of your stomach and you choose to yield from it, clearing your throat. You flicker your eyes to the plastic bag sitting behind him. “What’s in the bag?”

Without turning away from you, Tsukki extends his arm and reaches for it. He places it on his lap and you pull back, watching him as he pulls a pink cardboard box like the ones from the bakery; and lets the plastic float down to the floor.

“I don’t know much about you,” Tsukki begins, clearing his throat and wriggling in his seat.

For the first time since you’ve met him, all you saw was a walking brick wall that had the personality of dick. For the first time, you see him nervous and a little fidget-y and you enjoy it.

“But I do remember the things you share with me in true confidence even when I don’t always return the favor.” You bite down on your lip, containing your laughter at the sight of Tsukki with his head hanging low, straying away from your gaze. “In the last six months since you took me in that night, you show me kindness.”

You straighten your back and widen your tired eyes when he opens the little box and pulls out a tiny frosted cupcake with a very small candle standing at the top.

You blink because blinking is all you can manage to do.

You didn’t think he’d remember because you merely shared it in passing through a sea of useless information you exchanged between each other and two glasses of fizzy diet coke.

“No one should have to spend their birthday by themselves, don’t you think?” He finally moves his head to look at you and you swallow thickly, lips dried as you realize that all your hiding had been pointless.

But all you can manage is smile, grateful at the gesture and overwhelmed by soft tickling in your stomach. You want to cry because you’ve finally been met with gentleness even if it came from a stranger.

Tsukki looks at his watch and slowly begins to count the seconds. “Happy birthday,” He says your name quite differently than before. Your name sounds like a tune of your favorite song that you’ll wanna replay again and again. “Make a wish that counts because that damn cupcake was pretty expensive.”

You pout as he quickly falls back to his usual self. Clasping your hands together and closing your eyes, you do as he says and conjure the best wish you can make.

With your teeth tugging at your bottom lip, silencing the leftover thoughts lingering in your mind, you wish for happier memories and more friends, but most importantly, though you find him odd and a little annoying, you wish Tsukki could stay by your side.

But it's too bad that out of the three wishes you confidently offered to the gods, they’d choose to decline the one.