and warm because it's still cold as hell there

Ashton Irwin: He discovers his feelings for you:

“Hood pass the bloody ball you idiot!”

“Luke, what the fuck man, tackle him!”

“Clifford move your ass further up field!”

His voice was the only thing you could hear as you sat cross-legged on one of the stands of the bleachers; even with your headphones in, his scolding, rough voice seemed to fragment the   upbeat song you were trying to listen to. However, you didn’t really mind that much at all. Eyes flicking quickly between your textbook and the field in front of you, your concentration broken as soon as he had begun shouting at his team mates lousy efforts, you always sought the figure with the black band wrapped securely around his right arm, you always looked for the captain first. How could you not? His dirty blonde hair currently clung with sweat to his forehead in which adorned a frown of concentration. Both his arms bulged around his shirt sleeves, taught with muscle, and the shirts thin fabric had also started to stick to his back, exposing the crevices of his muscular shoulders and highlighting the one name you had always been to awkward and afraid to voice; IRWIN.

Right now, Ashton Irwin stood bent over with both hands on his knees, exhausted not only from sprinting up and down the football pitch, but also screaming at his team to pick up the pace as well. Unfortunately, you had to agree with the red-faced captain as as you sat there, completely isolated from the world and bored out of your mind, you noticed every mistake a player made; the slow run of the right back, a sloppy, miscalculated tackle from the left-midfield, and last but not least, the pathetic attempt of a goal made by the centre-forward in which ricocheted off the left bar.  This particular ‘slacker’, one of Ashton’s most recent insults, was that of your best friend of 13 years, Mr Calum Thomas Hood. That one day in primary school, when a young Calum had come running up to you (arms and legs both lankly flailing might you add), and had rather loudly whispered into your ear that Joshua Roberts, the class joker, was the one who kept putting love letters in your bag, you had both instantly burst out laughing; an embarrassed Joshua had then burst into tears and fled from the room so quickly one would have thought that his mother was counting down from 5. You hadn’t known back then that Calum would be the one person who you ended up entrusting all your most private secrets in, or that later on he would be the one to take your virginity (there had been a time when you both had been something of an item), and even when that relationship failed, you both were still as close as you had been before. Calum had made you laugh like no other had, and vice versa; you where the first person he came crying too when his girlfriend of 2 years had cheated on him, and in the spur of the moment you had decided to storm all the way to her house and slap her right in front of the many drunken faces that had come to her house-party that night. That had defiantly brought a grin to Cals face, even if was a small, pained one. All in all, it was always Y/N and Calum; never separated from each other for longer than 5 minutes some have joked, a catchphrase that has stuck over the years.

At this current moment, Calum was being typically Calum; dancing about all over the field as well as singing into the ears of his team mates, his concentration dwindling into almost nothing. With a quick glance in Ashton’s direction, you knew he was becoming furiously exasperated with his player’s ‘clowning around’, and he began striding towards the unsuspecting, innocent Calum like that of a predator stalking its prey.

Oh no.

Before you could shout a warning to him, Calum as if aware of your distress, turned in your direction, an easy smile plastered on his face. He lifted his right hand in the air, and dramatically waved it from side to side with such a force that you were almost convinced it would disconnect from his arm. No, no, no Calum stop. Your worried glance must of caught Calum’s eye as his smile soon dropped, and a look of concern replacing it. Your eyes flickered back in search of the hazel/green eyed predator in hopes that he had given up on pursuing Cal, but as soon as your eyes landed on ‘the’ black arm band and trailed up to catch a glimpse of Ashton’s expression in hopes that its wasn’t still conveying anger, you became stare to stare with the one person you thought would never even give you a second glance. Fuck. Your breath caught in your throat, tight as you heart clenched, forcing your right hand to rest upon it in the panic of not being able to breath. His eyes held yours with a deep curiosity, the anger for Cal still there, but almost lost behind a look of intrigue. His handsome face still held that awful scowl, but he remained unmoving, well that was until he stood up straight, shoulders broadening, and raised a hand that beckoned you down from the stands and onto the pitch.

You remained frozen for a brief second, before coming to terms with that THE Ashton Irwin was, what felt like commanding, you down to supposedly to talk with him. Talk to him? You could barely look at him without getting flustered, how the hell could you withstand a conversation? Ashton was still staring as you stretched your legs out in front of you in order to get up from the cold bench. Your jumper, that was sporting the schools logo, had its sleeves stretched over your hands in order to keep the warm, and you were grateful that you had made the sensible decision to wear the black skinny jeans without the holes in that morning. Your movements felt robotic as you walked down the steps, partially due to the winter weather stiffening your joints, and partially because you could feel the cold stare of Ashton following your every move.

What in the hell were you about to do?

As soon as your black conversed feet hit the green of the pitch, you automatically regretted ever getting up from the safety of the bleachers. You still hadn’t glanced up to meet the one person who could make your legs turn to jelly, your eyes concentrating on the perfectly cut individual strands of grass that sprouted from the ground. However you knew it was time to face Ashton when your lowered eyes stumbled upon the bright orange Nike Football boots that belonged to none other than the dedicated captain. Slowly, you tilted your head up, eyes trying to look anywhere but the face of the one you’ve had multiple dreams about. But it was too late, you had made the mistake of catching his lips in your eyeline, and thus you couldn’t help but stare at the rest of his beauty, and that included his mesmerising eyes.

He looked pissed. That curiosity his eyes had held only minutes before had disappeared, leaving now only anger to flicker in them. Before you could even turn away from the menacing glare, he spoke in the same commanding tone he’d used on his team mates prior:

“What the hell do you think your doing distracting my players? Do you understand that we have a game next week that could ultimately decide whether or not we make Finals this year?”

His tone was as deadly as his glare, and all those around you took in a sharp breath and held it for what seemed like forever. Ashton looked expectantly at me, ready to hear your pathetic response.

“Yes…uh, I’m sorry?”

Your voice was barely audible, a whisper, so much so that Ashton  took a dramatic stride forward and bent down to your height in a condascending manner. From the corner of your eye you could see Calum tense, and make a move as if to step forward and protect you form Ashton’s cruel words. You instantly shook your head, a caution for Calum to stop before he gets into even more trouble. He did, to your relief, however he didn’t shrink back either, but instead stood readily behind you just in case things took a turn for the worst.

“Im sorry, did you say something?”

His tone was as bitter as before, but this time it also sounded as if Ashton was acting as a superior compared to you. You couldn’t fathom what it was, but it ignited a spark within your chest, and it soon started to catch fire, flaming into a roaring defiance. You would not be spoken to like that, no one should ever treat another with the disrespect Ashton had just displayed to you. You took a step back, and whilst doing so, raised your chin so that you came face to face with the boy who thought he was better than everyone.

“Yeah, i did. Your team is shit, and so is its captain.”

You eyes never wavered from the hazel ones that became enraged by your words, and also…hurt. Whatever it was, it was only brief, soon masked again by anger. You heard the team gasp, Calum as well, and all turn towards their captain ready to hear his outrage in his response. You didn’t back down, their was to much adrenaline and passion burning through your veins, and Ashton aware of it, he could practically see the defiance burning behind your eyes.

He had never see such eyes like yours, ones so full of passion and daring in this moment. Whenever he talked to others, their eyes either showed hints of fear or boredom, he’d never experienced a pair of challenging ones, and it was obvious his team believed the same. It was known that one never disrespects the alpha of the school, but here you were, staring him down with a ferocity he had never encountered. He almost, almost, felt a slight admiration for the girl that was currently defending herself, defending Hood too. He had no idea that you two were so…so close? He saw as he took a step towards you they way Calum had almost leapt to defend you, yet you warned him off; you could defend yourself, at the end of the day Ashton was just a jerk who needed to be kicked of his ‘oh-so-high-horse’. He had heard the gasps of his team at the disrespect aimed by you towards him, and it almost made him laugh at how someone like you could stand up against him, yet his team, mostly made up out of 6 ft giants, couldn’t even look him in the eye when he pulled them up on their mistakes. You were correct, he knew that, you were so right about his team being awful, but that wasn’t down to him and his coaching, was it?

No, it wasn’t.

“Is that so? Well then tell me-?”

Ashton looked at you expectantly, waiting for you just to give him your name so he could further humiliate you later on in school when he announces to the world the great embarrassment you commited. Yet, it was too late now to turn back, you’d already criticised the one thing Ashton held most dear, his reputation.

Fuck it.


Simple. Short. Sassy.

“Well Y/N, if you think my team is as awful at football as you claim and my coaching is equally as bad, what would your ‘expertise’ in this field suggest i do?”

Calum’s short laugh was  the first thing that broke the silence. A short, a husky, a ‘knowing’ laugh had escaped his lips and it caught the attention of everyone around them, including Ashton in whom stared at your best friend with a look that slice Cals head clean off. However you could feel Cals smirk from behind you, waves of confidence and defiance now radiated off of him as well. What both you and Calum knew that none of the others did was how that you were once apart of a female football club that had made it all the way to the national finals AND won 3-1.

The memory further increased your confidence boost, giving you a smirk that matched that of your best friends behind. You watched Ashton closely, admiring his perfect facial features - strong jaw, full lips, bright eyes - all ruined by the arrogance he constantly wore. Now though, this arrogance had dulled into nothing but a pathetic spark, leaving Ashton vulnerable. His eyes gave away his uncertainty, he was obviously put off by Calums laugh and both your knowing smiles, but he still stood his ground. Ok, lets see what you’ve got Irwin.

“It would be best if i showed you, you know, so it would be easier for you to take notes.”

Ashton face was priceless - eyes dark with resentment and mouth slightly ajar in shock because of your overconfidence in his presence. What made you think that you could waltz down here and turn him into a laughing stock right in front of his team? He watched you intensly as you strode over to Luke, who looked as flustered as Ashton felt, when you kicked the ball out from beneath his left foot, with little effort might you add (however grateful by this, you secretly wished Luke had put up a bit of a fight so you could of showed off your skill). Ashton stood there, angry now not only at you, but Luke too as he highlighted your point in a matter of 3 seconds.

With that same smirk plastered on your chapped lips, you lightly walked back in Ashtons direction, coming once again face to face with those gorgeous eyes. However, unlike before, they no longer terrified you into submission; now you felt empowered to prove that Ashton Irwin didn’t sit top of the school hierarchy. With the dirty football held between your palms, you grabbed the hem of your jersey to then wipe away the excess dirt. Whilst doing so, Ashton couldn’t help but stare at the tiniest bit of flesh revealed when your t-shirt underneath rode up along with it, however quickly turned away hoping that you didn’t catch him.

Clean Ball? Check.

Confident smile? Check.

Wary Ashton? Hell yeah.

Spinning towards the players, shunning Ashton with your back, you stated,

“You ready?”

Bewildered by your words for a brief moment, it was Calum that initiated the move, running to his position on the pitch. The others all warily followed, and as you went to stand in yours, you eyed Ashton, waiting for his argument. But nothing escaped his lips, a scorn still turning them into a ugly snare. So, without so much as a complaint from the Captain, you positioned yourself in a ready position, waiting for Ashton to blow the whistle; which he eventually did so, reluctantly.

Nothing else had mattered in that moment except your determination to prove Ashton wrong. That notion was so strong, so powerful, that it had only taken you 2 minutes to sprint all the way up field, avoiding every attack, as well as tackling Luke, yet again, in the process. You felt Ashtons eyes on you constantly, sending a chill down your spine, but you still didn’t give up; in fact it encouraged you further, so much so that it resulted in you scoring a magnificent goal. With a strong kick off of the inside your right foot, the ball went flying into the left corner of the net, with a spin so beautiful it could have put even Lionel Messi to shame. (Ok, that might have been a slight over-exaggeration, but still it was pretty amazing). Every player on the field had stopped in their tracks, eyes almost popping out of their heads and jaws slack with amazement. Proud of your achievement you went in search for Ashton, ready to gage his disbelieving reaction.  However as you looked up and down the side line for that ever present arrogant smile, you search turned up short, not a single shaggy blonde hair in sight.

“Looking for someone princess?”

The sultry voice came from directly behind, and it was so close that you could feel his hot breath against your skin. You knew who it was immediately, you would recognise that voice anywhere, and that trade mark scent of his too, now mixed with sweat giving it an even more musky smell. You mentally swooned, even when you kept telling yourself to keep it together.

“You’re quite the little pocket-rocket aren’t you? Who would have thought that someone like you could’ve learn a talent like that?”

Again, Ashton whispered into your ear and all of a sudden you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks. He had defiantly moved closer to you, so much so that you could now feel the heat radiating off of his skin. Turning your head to the side, without moving your body or feet, you went to catch a glimpse of him, but the moment he caught onto your intentions, he jumped back, a teasing smirk occupying his pink lips. Firstly you had noticed that he had replaced Michael Clifford, the blue haired boy who had been too nervous to attack you prior, and secondly that he now had a far off, glazed look in his eyes, as if his head was filled with conflicting thoughts.

With being too caught up in trying to figure out Ashton’s newest look, you became oblivious to the sounding of the starting whistle now blown by Michael from the side line. All of a sudden, the ball was kicked out from beneath your feet by Calum, who had been stealthily creeping up at you from behind, waiting for his opportunity. He knew you had a thing for Ashton, and being the cheeky little child he is, he turned it into an advantage. Whipping around so fast, eyes in search of the tanned, 6ft puppy,  you felt a sudden gust of wind from beside you, a breeze left in wake from a now sprinting Ashton. He had decided that he would be the one to take Cal down - but you had other ideas. With your daze over, you legs began functioning again, carrying off after the long-legged players. If it had not been for Luke (it was always Luke) being clumsily in the way of Calum’s charge towards the goal, neither you or Ashton would have caught up with him. However now, Cal was in the dangerous position of becoming sandwiched in between his best friend and his loathed football captain. Calum knew what was coming, he had predicted the horrible outcome when he had spotted the flashes of black converse and orange Nikes closing in from both his sides. Now, his only option was to abandon ship, give up his aim in scoring a goal, and see what happens when a feisty, independent midget collides with a demanding, confident, arrogant arse. It was an outcome Calum was very interested in witnessing. As soon as he noticed the two forms getting ever so closer, he started to slow down his pace until it became a speedy jog. Both you and Ashton took this as the opportunity to strike, and abruptly switched directions, heading straight for the Cals uneasy form. Nothing else mattered in this moment, in fact you had forgotten all about trying to impress Ashton’s, you had become to lost i the fun and thrill of the game. Likewise, Ashton no longer wore a frown, but instead a huge grin that had spread across his face, brighting his eyes; all this because he was actually having fun. Fun, could you believe it? Ashton Irwin was actually enjoying himself, no longer were his lips pulled in that oh-so-serious line. They felt free as they were wide with smile running towards a rapidly growing Calum.

It was time. Calum was ready. Just a couple more steps and ‘BAM!’, a new cocktail of arrogance and beauty would be created.

You were so near, you could hear Calum’s heavy breaths.

Ashton was so close, so close in fact he could see the slight, nervous twitch of his team mates left eye.

Calum could feel the extreme heat radiating off of both the bodies beside him, almost making him feel nauseous.


He took a large tread backwards, leaving a perfect space open for the two forms to clash together.

It all happened so fast.

Arms and legs went flying, hair whipping in all directions, a high-pitched scream mixed with a rough one that could of have been heard miles away; all because two certain somebodies got too competitive and Calum was just a big wuss.

You hadn’t even been looking to see if anyone was following you, your sight only concentrated onto the ball. That was your first mistake. Now, eyes squeezed shut in pain, you were crushed into the grass by a heavy mass lying on top of you - you couldn’t even move either of your hands in attempt to stop the spinning of your head. It thumped powerfully, creating a horrible pressure behind your eyes, resulting in you squeezing them even tighter. Your chest felt restricted with the weight on top of it, making it hard for you to breath; so sucking the pain up, you attempted to open your eyes to assess the damage, as well as figure a way to make room for you to catch your breath back. What you were defiantly not expecting was to open them and come eye to eye with a very wide, pained look. 

Ashton’s face was literally millimetres from yours, his eyes so near and clear that you could see your own in-awe expression within them. His pain was obvious as he was squinting down at you and his lips were open, his breaths shallow and hot. Yet he looked almost, free? There was no disgust within his look like previously, nor did he instantly turn away as you opened your eyes to stare up into his. He was just as flustered as your were, cheeks bright red not only from exhaustion but embarrassment as well. Like you had done to him, Ashton consciously found himself searching your face, noticing the pale freckles that adorned the bridge of your nose, and the smudge of your lipstick across your bottom lip and onto your chin. He felt the heat rise to the tips of his ears as kept staring at your mouth, desperate to wipe away the smear that ruined your perfection. He felt himself tilt his head lower and if you’d had made even the slightest of movements, they would’ve touched. You took a sharp intake of air, chest rising to meet Ashton’s at his sudden, suggestive action. You could feel the hairs on the back of your neck rise in anticipation at what was about to occur - was he really about to kiss you? Neither of you moved, only each others hot breaths could be felt against both of your cheeks. You noticed Ashton’s gaze was still trained onto your lips, and being the tease you were, you took your bottom lip in between your teeth. Ashton let out a quiet, throaty moan at your actions and before he could stop himself, he lowered his mouth onto yours, not before saying a rough ‘fuck it’, loudly enough for you to hear.

It was everything you hoped for, and it wasn’t at the same time. It wasn’t sweet, or magical like you dreamed it would be, but instead forceful and desperate - something that flicked a switch inside of you, making you retaliate to Ashton’s strong mouth with your own dominant kiss. You weren’t about to let Ashton believe that he had that power over you, not after just putting your heart and soul into proving him and his ego wrong.

It was you who had pulled away first, lips sore, and opening your eyes, you noticed Ashton’s were the same, swollen and tender. It took everything in you to not go back in and take his plump bottom lip in between yours. His faced scrunched up in confusion and disappointment at your withdrawal, his eyes opening suddenly to try and understand why you pulled away from him. You should have guessed that thats probably never happened to him before, in any ‘normal’ circumstance, he would have been the first to end the kiss. Staring up at him, the world and Calum forgotten around you, you noticed a glossy shine to is hazel eyes, and it took your breath away. You had never seen this Ashton before, one that looked so content and happy, you’d only witnessed the pompous jerk that for some reason you’d still pined over from the school hallways. It brought a smile to your face, a genuine, proud, soft grin. 

This resulted in you confusing Ashton further, first you pull away from one of the most amazing make outs he’d ever experienced, and secondly you looked like a little school girl grinning up at him like that. Yet he still laughed - a hoarse, small laugh that vibrated down his chest and against yours. He couldn’t fathom what, in the matter of 5 minutes, had made him suddenly want to kiss you senseless, not after all the humiliation you’d had caused him. You may have even ruined his credibility, but at this current time, in this intimate embrace, he no longer cared of what others thought of him, only you mattered. 

Lost in his thoughts of you, he barely heard the whisper that escaped your lips from below him.


Feeling slightly embarrassed by his mistake, he looked uneasily down at you to gage your reaction. Did you think he was rude because he hadn’t been listening? Where you mad at him for taking advantage of you? For slamming into you, was that it? 

What you told him was nothing like that at all.

“Ashton, could you place remove your hand from underneath my butt? Its kinda digging in.”

He looked at you bewildered. Of course he’d catch feelings for that one girl who didn’t even want him to touch her, let alone be in a relationship with him. He had his work cut out with you, he knew that for sure, but he wasn’t going to give up now, not after everything you had put him through; even if it did turn out for the best.

anonymous asked:



So, well, actually, I tried to convey how i see the characters on these portraits…? Not only their features, but also hints of their personalities, I guess. 

Kuroo’s the one who looks more like my usual Kuroo (his piercings, moles, V neck tshirt, the recent shaved jaw). I think he’s this guy you would see in the streets and think he’s handsome but quickly forget about him because, after all, it’s kind of an ordinary face. Sharp features to add more emphasis to his cunning personality, swollen bags under his eyes due to his fucked sleeping schedule- and because bedroom eyes, too powerful-; even if it doesn’t seem so, his eyes are black as well, though the opportune reflections + yellow glow give the impression of dark gold eyes and sharp pupils (but, the primary color is black). I usually draw him with very open eyes in a very dark color because it kind of reminds me to innocence, innocence in the childish, genuine way. As if, despite the shit of the world we live in, he’s still dreaming. (This links to my superhero Kuroo concept but it’s not a surprise anymore ahaha / sweats). This is also why he has this… tortured expression. It’s not a complete grimace, and maybe it’s not enough to determine what is crossing his mind to make him wear this expression…? In the ‘Kuroo is hard to read but he’s the opposite to inexpressive’ way. Also his split lip because he worries on it too much, he shoulders a lot of responsibilities. If something doesn’t go well, he should have done better. 

I struggled with Bokuto a lot. I didn’t want to make him ugly, but also not commonly attractive or handsome or pretty either. More like he has truly odd features but it’s very, very easy to get stuck in his gravity. Even though i think Kuroo’s one turned out better and more raw, this portrayal of Bo is the best of the series…? I achieved the picture I had of him, at least, with those big open bright dandelion eyes of promises and hope, shouting trust me, I’m the ace and how could you not? I chose this facial structure for him to add more emphasis to the weight of his gaze, but also giving him an expression full of expectations, a vulnerable, open one (lmao he’s the sun itself it’s not like he has something to fear (as to why he’s not a closed, reserved person like his friends are) or something ahah / tries to hide the fangirlism, fails I ALSO ADDED STARS IN HIS EYES BECAUSE THESE ARE EYES OF THE WHOLE UNIVERSE HE STARES AT AKAASHI WITH GALAXIES IN HIS EYES I REFUSE TO BELIEVE OTHERWISE). idk like, watching Bokuto it’s  like seeing magic happen, in the way he smiles, or stands awkwardly as if he didn’t know just yet where he fits in this world, or what to do with his limbs, evidencing he’s a child in a skin too big for him. 

(Awaking the I have to stand by his side and watch out for him forever type of feeling, yet, he’s staring at you promising I’m backing you up because i’m the ace.) Plus the freckles and the dimple cus sure as hell this child smiles and the sun pales. 

I had a lot of fun playing with his portrait and Akaashi’s one, the way both of them are averting their gazes aside, how one is warm and sunny and the other gray and cold, a collision of their personalities. Hm… I tried to make Akaashi as pretty as I could manage… as Bo, a face you wouldn’t forget, though, in this case, by its beauty. I think I didn’t achieve that so… I still don’t know If I like how I drew Akaashi or i dislike it otl. I painted his eyes as black as I could manage, if Bo has all the stars in his pupils, Akaashi has all the black holes of the universe (/)v(\) (the hunger for light). I tried to draw a serious, mature, cold, independent expression, in contrast with how he’s hiding in the hoodie, with the sleeves too big for his arms (this is pretty silly but I always thought people who wear oversized clothes in this way seem to, somehow, try to hide? I wanted to use that feeling here. As if his face is saying i’m here but his body is telling otherwise). Determined enough to be Bokuto’s caretaker, but, at the same time, wanting to find shelter under his wig. Both of them have a precarious balance and that’s so?? fun to play with?? 

As for the last one, this turned out the most intense of the four portraits unintentionally!! But it fits in character so… Kenma’s making a self-conscious gesture with the hand in front of his face (bitten, broken hand cus dermatophagia, as much as his chewed lips or the bags under his eyes, nervous symptoms of anxiety) but, at the same time, he can’t exactly hide his analytical, smart personality. I enjoyed a lot playing with his hair and his features, trying not to make him pretty or attractive or cute but?? Kenma is intense, probably one of the reasons as to why he can’t go unnoticed… Hm… like, you can’t really fall for him for his physical appearance- not like the other three at least… i don’t know- but more like it would just flow. One day you would wake up and think shit i’m screwed and that’s all. And not like you can really forget his eyes. You know this thing about Kuroo being intimidating because he towers over Hinata and narrows his eyes and grins and he looks like a fucking hyena ready to trick and devour you? what if who’s actually scary is Kenma

Baby It's Cold Outside ||M!A

“How. How on earth, and in heaven and hell and whatever’s in between, can be it be this goddamn cold?”

Amduscias had more or less comfortably curled up on his bed, not to say he was in his private quarters because he wasn’t, and was angrily hugging a large pillow with arms and legs. Chills chased up and down his spine as he tried to warm himself up with all the heat he could generate. And it was a lot of heat. But nothing would do. Breathing fire still left his lips numb, boiling the ichor in his veins didn’t help his aching fingers, and no temperatures seemed capable of warming up his trembling body. 

Would that this was the worst of it. He couldn’t make do with his own warmth. He needed someone else’s. He needed someone. His entire being seemed to starve for touch. It made him downright miserable. He could only blame the cold for it. Maybe if he went to his deserts, buried himself in a dune… Later. When he could find the will to move. For now he would just wait and complain and severely lack the presence of another person. He wanted to be hugged, petted, cuddled, kissed, whatever! Anything if it could warm him up and dispel his numbness.