i want the same present for my birthday

About Bughead getting back together tonight
  • Staff: But they're already back together?
  • RAS: Yes.
  • Staff: ... Don't you think it's too early, Roberto?
  • RAS: It's been already a week since last episode.
  • Staff: Okay, but technically it's still the same day. Shouldn't we keep them apart for-
  • Us: We present you the best show runner, ladies and gentlemen.
we’re intimate acquaintances (tangled up again)


“Tell me, is the coffee really because you’re tired after waking up early, or is it really because you’re punishing yourself?  Because even morning people don’t want to be up early either.”

“Or maybe,” Keith responded, “and this is a wild theory, mind you - maybe, it’s because I actually like the taste.”

It was Lance who let out a sharp bark of laughter this time.  “Good try, Mullet.  That’s an obvious lie.  Unless it was a joke, in which case you should leave the jokes to me.”

Keith hid his grin by bringing his coffee to his lips and taking a sip.  “There’s no fooling you, huh?  Guess I’ll have to come up with better lies next time.”

Lance felt a flutter in his stomach at the phrase ‘next time’.

“I guess you will.”


When Lance wakes up to the second Monday in two days, he knows there’s only one explanation: He’s come into close proximity to his soulmate. If he doesn’t want to be stuck repeating the same day for the rest of his life, he needs to find his soulmate. The only problem? He’s started falling for someone else.

Rating: T

Relationship: Klance

Words: 6309

Status: Chapter 1/1 (Complete)

Read on Ao3

This is a birthday present for @alteanlance aka Kai aka one of my favorite people of all time - feel free to send some bday love her way ;)  She asked for a soulmate AU and I tried my best to put my own unique spin on it (hopefully you like it, because you deserve the world Kai! <33)

My suicidal tendencies are absurd. Because, you know, rational thought doesn’t really get through to me. Things like “it’ll get better” or “you matter” don’t get through to me on bad days (not even on good days half the time). Telling me my problems are solvable has never worked for me. See, thing is, I’m not dead because of a thousand things that don’t really matter at all. I haven’t killed myself because of the fact that I borrowed a pencil from a girl in my German class and haven’t returned it yet, because I haven’t finished that sketch I’ve been working on, because I haven’t shown my friend that one photo, because the next Fall Out Boy album isn’t out yet, because I haven’t told my crush how much they mean to me, because I haven’t finished creating my best friend’s birthday present, because I don’t know if that poem I entered in that contest is getting published, because I have a role in our school play and there’s no understudies, because I told mom I’d wash the dishes tomorrow. And it doesn’t make any sense, because all I want is to be dead, but at the same time, I haven’t finished my to do list yet, and I just can’t leave it. And so I’m literally living on a stream of" after this". And it doesn’t make any sense, but listen, if you’re suicidal, find your to do list. Don’t kill yourself, because you have video games to beat and dishes to wash and books to finish and rooms to clean and things to return tomorrow


why is it that you loathe us who teeter on the edge of nothing?

happy release day, 358/2 days (05/30/09 in japan) + happy birthday, me!

Title: Mine

Request: Can you do a Leon Draisaitl one, where you guys have a bit of a secret relationship, and he sees a guy flirting with you while shopping or something, and he gets super jealous and mad. Maybe he finally decides to put a real label on your relationship and make it more public. Please and thank you! ///AND/// your writing is so good omg could you possibly do an angry draisaitl one shot w make up sex something?

Warnings: Jealousy, Smut

Author’s Note: I thought these requests paired up really well. I hope you enjoy it! Feedback is appreciated. :)

Links: My Master List  and My Current Requests

“I don’t know. A lot of the other girls get shit on for no reason other than the fact they’re dating a hockey player. I don’t want that to happen to you.” he said, shaking his head as he scrolled through his pictures. You rolled your eyes, knowing he was looking for the best photo of him and the boys from their golfing trip yesterday to post to Instagram.  

“I don’t need it posted all over the internet, Leon, but no one even knows we’re dating.” you sighed, flopping down beside him on the sofa. “Connor only knows about me because he saw you buying flowers.”

“The boys have loud mouths.” he reasoned, the anger bubbling up inside you as he flicked through filters.

“It feels like you’re hiding me.” you said softly.

“I’m not hiding you.” he said, glancing over to you, pausing as he studied your face. “I guess I kind of am.” he admitted with a sigh. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Fine.” you said abruptly, not wanting to get into it again. You stood, turning to head out of the living room.

“(Y/N).” he called, his footsteps following you quickly. “It’s not—”

“I said it’s fine, Leon. I’m dropping it.” you said curtly, grabbing your jacket off the back of the chair. “Let’s just get going, okay? Unless you don’t want to be seen in public with me either.” you added angrily, looking at him from the corner of your eye.

He frowned, shaking his head as he grabbed his keys off the table, shoving his wallet into his back pocket. The drive to the mall was silent, Leon’s eyes not leaving the road. Part of you felt bad, you didn’t want to pressure Leon into anything, but the two of you had been seeing each other over three months; he was still introducing you as his ‘friend’, if he even bothered introducing you at all. You wanted your relationship to be official, but Leon was either painfully oblivious to your growing feelings, or just didn’t feel the same way. You didn’t even want to think about the latter.

“I have to go grab a present for my mom’s birthday and swing by the tailor to pick up my new suit. I’ll meet you in the food court for lunch around 12:30?” he suggested, pulling into the parking lot.

“Sure.” you shrugged, unbuckling your seatbelt, wanting to escape the confines of Leon’s SUV. Getting out of the car you watched as Leon headed to the far entrance of the mall without a second glance; leaving you to your own devices.

You made a beeline to the bookstore, forgetting your sadness as you browsed the rows of books for a long while. You settled on a few, heading to the cash register. Noticing you still had some time until you had to meet Leon for lunch, you stepped into the Sephora next door, looking through the shelves, smiling when you found the display of perfume. You sprayed a few on the paper test strips before finding one you really liked, spraying some on your neck. It was more sensual than your usual scent, a little sexier, a little more mature. You grabbed a new bottle off the shelf, paying at the counter before heading to the food court.

It was fairly empty as you searched the sea of tables, no luck in finding Leon. You found an empty table in the corner, away from the hustle and bustle. Settling into one of the plastic chairs, you pulled out one of your new books, cracking it open as you waited for Leon. A few minutes later you heard the chair across from you being pulled out, you looked up, surprised when you saw it wasn’t Leon.

“Need a lunch date?” he asked with grin, slipping into the seat across from you.

“I’m waiting for a friend.” you said, looking over the top of your book as you turned the page, hoping he would get the hint and leave. No such luck.

“What kind of person would let you sit here by yourself?” he asked. “The least I could do would be to wait with you until your friend shows up. Keep you company.” he offered.

“I don’t even know your name.” you said, despite your best efforts you couldn’t stop the smirk that was curling at the corner of your mouth; he was damn cute. You closed the book, leaning towards him as he spoke again.

“I’m James.” he offered, extending his hand across the table. “Now you know my name.”

“(Y/N).” you said, slipping your hand into his own, appreciating the warmth of his firm grip, his touch sending a bolt of electricity down your arm.

“Nice to meet you, (Y/N).” he smiled. Your heart skipped a beat when you noticed the dimple dipping into his left cheek; you couldn’t stop the heat from rising to your cheeks. “So what kind of awful friend would leave a beautiful woman alone and waiting for a lunch date?” he asked again, his eyes boring into yours.

“The kind who’s running late. I’ll take it from here.” a voice said from behind you. You whipped around, looking at Leon, his face tinged red in anger, his lips set in a firm line.

“Who’s this?” James asked you, his brows furrowed as he glanced between you and Leon.

“Leon.” you offered. “We’re… we’re kind of together.” you said, feeling guilty for flirting with him; despite how that dimple made your heart flutter.

“Kinda together, huh?” he laughed, standing up. He pulled a pen from his pocket scribbling something on a napkin. “If you ever get tired of being ‘kinda together’, give me a call, yeah?” he smiled, tossing napkin in front of you before sauntering away; unaffected by Leon’s anger.

“What the fuck was that?” Leon asked, looking over at you as you slipped your book back in the shopping bag.

“I don’t know, he came and sat down with me.” you shrugged.

“Let’s go. We can order lunch back at my apartment, okay?” he huffed. You nodded, grabbing your bag of purchases off the table; swiping the napkin off the table without thinking.

“What the hell?” Leon growled, yanking the piece of paper from your fingers, tossing it in a trashcan.

“What?” you demanded, embarrassed for grabbing it in the first place; but your anger getting the better of you, deciding to push it against your better judgement. “We’re not official, a guy gave me his number, what I do with it is my business.” you snarled.

He took a deep breath, the anger evident in his eyes. “We’ll talk about this at my place,” he said, barreling through the food court. You practically had to jog to keep up with his long strides. The car ride was again silent. By the time you had gotten back to his condo, the tension was palpable.

Leon unlocked the door, stomping to the bedroom, muttering under his breath. You set your bag on the counter, sliding your jacket off. You felt his eyes on you before you saw him. Turning slowly, you saw Leon standing in the doorway his posture stiff, his eyes angry.

“Leon—” you started nervously; he was never this quiet.

“So, we’re ‘kind of together’?” he demanded.

“Yeah, Leon, we kind of are.” you said angrily, the nervousness disappearing as you picked up where you had left off. “We see each other, but we’re not official, no one knows me as anything other than your friend, if they know me at all.” you hissed.

He stalked towards you, you backed up until you hit the kitchen wall behind you. You were trapped between the wall and his strong body. Leon lifted his arms to rest against the wall on either side of your head.

“We’re together.” he stated firmly. “Right?”

“I guess.” you said, a shuddering breath escaping your lips.

“You’re mine. My girl. My partner in crime. My girlfriend.” he listed, his face inches from your own. “Whatever label you want to stick on it.” he said confidently.

Your breath was caught in your throat, your cheeks flushing at his intensity. A bolt of heat shot through your body. “Show me.” you said, watching as Leon smirked at the challenge.

“I can do that.” he chuckled, dipping down to catch your lips between his. His hand slipped from the wall to your shoulder, falling lower his hand cupping your breast through the thin fabric of your t-shirt. Gasping at the sensation, you could feel Leon’s smile against your lips. HIs hand slid under your shirt and bra, his calloused hand rough against your skin.

Pulling back, you pulled the shirt over your head, letting it fall to the floor. Leon’s skilled fingers unclasped your bra, letting it drop off your shoulders. “I want to see all of you.” he murmured, his lips attacking your neck as you kicked off your shoes, shimmying out of your jeans and underwear.

He smiled, dropping to his knees in front of your exposed core. He pressed his hands firmly against the inside of your knees, spreading your legs before nestling his face between your legs, his stubble tickling the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. You sighed, the anticipation of what was to come putting you on edge. Leon worked his way up your thigh, leaving a trail of kiss before his tongue found your entrance, tracing along your folds until he reached you clit. You cried out as his tongue ran circles around your clit, your knees weakened as he brought you closer to orgasm. He looked up at you, the satisfaction in his eyes obvious as he watched you start to come undone. His hands rose to your hips, holding you against the wall to keep you from sliding to the floor as your fingers curled into his hair, moaning as your orgasm shook you to the core.

Your breathing was deep as Leon rose to his feet, his hands still gripping your hips. “How was that, baby?” he whispered. “Enough to show you that you’re mine?” he almost growled, crashing his lips against yours.

“More.” you demanded, your fingers wrapping in the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it over his head.

“Someone’s greedy.” he laughed; the rest of his clothes joining yours on the floor at lightning speed. He spun you around, leading you towards the counter. You reached for him, his cock stiff in your hands. “Not today, baby.” he lifting you onto the counter. “I’m supposed to be showing you that you’re mine.” he said gruffly, pushing your thighs apart, moving to stand between your legs.

He lined himself up with your entrance, rocking his hips forward with no warning. You gasped, your arms wrapping around his shoulders for support as he pulled out and slammed into you again. “Fuck, Leon.” you moaned into his shoulder. His hands tightened on your hips, holding you in place firmly as he pounded into you.

“You’re mine.” he said, his voice raw from exertion. “I’m yours. We’ll tell the whole fucking world if you want.” he moaned. “Is that what you want?” he grunted, his hips still driving himself deeper into you.

“Yes.” you moaned, your head rolling back. “I want you.” you breathed. He plunged into you a few more times before sliding a hand between the two of you, his thumb pressing against your clit.

You cried out at the new, intensified, sensation that overtook your body. “Fuck, I’m so close.” you breathed; Leon’s face lined with determination.

“Let it go, baby.” he instructed, his thumb moving to rub circles on your swollen nub. Your walls clenched around him, encouraging his own orgasm. You crumbled against the cool countertop as Leon thrust into you once more before spilling inside you.

The two of you stayed like that; catching your breath, the seconds turning into minutes. Leon pulled out slowly, his arms circling around you, pulling you back into a sitting position. A thin sheen of sweat covered his brow, his blue eyes shining as your eyes met his.

“So, it’s official. We’re together.” he said.

“Was that a statement or a question?” you smirked, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“You tell me.” he said. “I don’t want you to take napkins with others guys phone numbers on them.” he said.

“The only boy I need in my phone is you.” you told him. “I love you, Leon.” you admitted.

“I love you, too.” he smiled.


fridges-of-neverland said:

Another amazing imagine from you coming up soon because I have another request! Can you please create an imagine where the reader is bilingual (can speak two languages {English and French}) and one day, on Neverland, she decides to annoy Pan by speaking to him only in French (which he doesn’t understand) which leads to him learning French and the reader, who doesn’t know he can speak French, tells Pan she loves him in French and then he reveals that he’s also bilingual and lot of fluff? Thanks!!


Warning/s: nothin?


Summary: you speak two languages

Note: I don’t know how to speak French because they don’t teach that in my school so I used google translate. So blame google for mistakes ;D

You have been living on Neverland for a while now and Peter found his way to your heart. The problem is he doesn’t even know he did. You’ve grown a fond of Peter and you didn’t know how to tell him. You’re not even sure if you want to tell him. Chances are either he likes you back or he doesn’t and everything gets awkward. You needed to forget that problem of yours and find something that’ll keep you entertained. You thought back to when you were in school. Your school thought you different languages and one of them is French, which you were actually fluent at. You figured that the lost boys only speak English so they might not have an idea on how to speak other languages. But you still needed to find out so now, you’re testing your skills on them.

“Avez-vous les gars savent parler français?” You shouted through the camp.
(Do you guys know how to speak French?)

You only received confused looks for an answer but it is enough for you to know that they obviously don’t know how to speak French.

“Ce serait amusant” You walked off to find Peter.
(This would be fun)

You walked around the jungle, trying to find Peter, but you weren’t lucky enough. By now, you have given up and are ready to go back to camp when Peter suddenly appeared in front of you. You gasp in shock as Peter smirked at you.

“Were you looking for me, love?” he asked. You nodded.

“Actually, yes. I have a question for you.” You stated with a smirk.

“Which is?” he raised an eyebrow at you.

“Sais tu parler francais?” You asked.
(Do you know how to speak French?)

Peter raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Donc, vous ne” You smirked. 
(So you don’t)

“Why are you talking gibberish now?” Peter looked at you with an amused face.

“Il est pas du charabia. Il a appelé le français.” you smiled.
(It’s not gibberish. It’s called French.)

Peter squinted his eyes at you. “You see, love. I know you know better than to annoy me.”

“Oui. Voilà pourquoi ce serait si intéressant.” you smirked as you began to walk away.
(Yes, i do. That’s why this would be so interesting.)

Peter grasped your hands before you can completely walk away.

“Wait. What language is that?” he asked.

“French” you answered.

He nodded and let you go.

You’ve been going on with your plan. Following Peter around and talking to him in French. It may be fun for you but it wasn’t for him. Seeing him frustrated made him look cute. You sighed to yourself. It looks like this little plan of yours isn’t working. You’re having fun, yes. But you’re main goal is to forget about the feelings you are having for Peter. Yet you’re here admiring how he looks cute when he’s frustrated.

“Something wrong?” Peter asked. You were currently following him through the woods, trying to annoy him.

“No. I mean non” you said, going back to your French mode.

“You can tell me anything.” he said, looking at you.

“In French?” you grinned making him roll his eyes at you.

“As long as it makes you feel better. Even if I can’t understand your gibberish, at least you can let it all out” he smiled at you. It was actually a good idea. You can confess to him and he won’t even know.

“Okay.” you nodded.

“Je pense avoir des sentiments pour toi . Je veux dire , je ne pense pas parce que je sais que je fais et je suis peur de vous dire que dans l'anglais parce que vous pourriez ne pas sentir la même chose et tout serait maladroit et nous ne serai plus proche.” you spat the words out.
(I think I have feelings for you. I mean I don’t think because I know I do and I’m scared to tell you that in english because you might not feel the same and everything would be awkward and we won’t be close anymore.)

Peter looked at you. You grinned knowing he didn’t understand your confession. Your grin fell as you saw Peter smirk.

“Je vous aime aussi, l'amour.”
(I like you too, love.)   

Your eyes widened in horror.

“You understand..” your mouth was open in shock.

“Yes I do, love. It’s a good thing you told me what language you were speaking so I can learn it on my own.” he winked at you.

You blushed as you realized that you have just confessed to him and he understood it.

“I-I need to go” you stuttered and tried to walk away. Tried. Peter stopped you.

“No need to be shy, love. I’ve been waiting for you to say that and now that you have..” he held you face and planted a kiss on your lips.

“I can do that.” he smiled at you.

“What do you mean you’ve been waiting for me to say that? Y-you knew?” you stuttered.

“No, love. I didn’t know. I was waiting for you to say that so I can know that you feel the same way about me.” he grinned.

“So you like me?” you asked and he nodded.

“So it won’t be awkward for the both of us?” you grinned and he nodded again.

“So that means we’re a thing now?” you asked and looked up to him.

“Only if you want to”

note again: I heard that it’s  fridges-of-neverland ’s birthday so I tried my best to make this oneshot now. As a present XD. I know it sucks but hey! I tried my best. Thanks for the support and you know, the requests you’re sending. You’re not spamming me at all. I’m actually glad that you aren’t running away from my imagines yet xD. I wish you a Happy Birthday and I hope this isn’t too late. Anyways have a good birthday love! xx

P.s . i literally don’t know why there’s grey stuff in there i just copy pasted so ye. sorry bout that XD I tried editing idk if it worked or if it messed it up :/ wth idek how to stop the grey shit im so srry xD

Connected part 7 [tom riddle x reader]

Originally posted by toxic-proximity

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5* | Part 6 | Part 7

  • Warnings: dark, angst! Don’t read if you’re highly sensitive!!!
  • Word count: 2k

The remaining days you spent at home, before returning to Hogwarts, for the second week of your Christmas holidays, passed not as cozy and comfortable as they have been the years before. 

After getting to know the truth about your Mother, you felt empty. It was a lot to deal with, especially because you had trusted your Father blindly until you found out, what he had hidden from you, for all your life.

He promised you, to never keep secrets again and was willing to answer all the questions you had, so he told you, that your Mother has been a classmate and later a colleague at St. Mungos.

Keep reading

Only You

Title: Only You

Pairing: FP Jones x Reader

Warnings: Implied/Smut, some slight cursing, underage sex, underage drinking.

Request:  Can I request some FP Jones smut? I love your blog and I think you’re literally the only person who writes for FP.

Can I please request fp x reader where readers friends with Juggy but like she likes FP alot and he likes her too but he tries to resist her and he tells her to like find someone her age n she goes and gets drunk n kisses this guy but fp swoops in takes her home and he can no longer resist her?

can you please write a FP Jones x reader where you are friends with jughead and the gang but its jughead’s birthday and FP is there and after loads of people arrive some smut happens between FP and reader ?

Can I have fp x reader where (don’t shoot me) juggy likes the reader but she likes fp and he likes her(but he hides his feelings ar first) and one day the reader comes to their house to find juggy to tell him like nicely she doesnt like him in that way (just friends) and fp is like you should go out with jug n FP is like we can never be together and she kisses him and he gives in for a bit then pulls back n she runs off and in the mornin he sees her with archie n gets jealous n pins her n smut?

A/N: There were a lot of requests for FP and I felt like I could fit them all in one fic because they kind of go together? Hopefully.
As always feedback is greatly appreciated and I hope you all enjoy! (Also the reader is eighteen in this fic for obvious reasons).

Tag List;
@sunshine51879 @dempsey-mantle @day-dreaming-nightmare @emotional-wrek-hello @aezthetically @nafa1604 @angstylittleteen @theselfishllama 

Keep reading

The Kids: Part 4 - John Shelby

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

Before I’ve even had a real chance to process what’s happened with me and John, Tommy’s told me he needs to see him.

“How are you?” he asks, pulling a chair out for me and gesturing for me to sit.

I raise my eyebrows in answer, not justifying his stupid question with a response.

“Polly tells me everything’s been confirmed and is going well with the baby?”


Keep reading

Sex, Drugs and Rock N Roll

Imagine based on the song Sex Drugs and Rock ‘n Roll by Saliva requested by @dmagicreality

This ended up kinda angsty and fluffy which makes no sense if you’ve heard the song but that’s where my writing took me. Everything else I tried was just not working and that’s what I could manage with writers block. sorry not sorry for always ending my imagines with a cliff-hanger

btw I found out I suck at song imagines

Happy x Reader

Warnings:: drug use, swearing, sex mention

italic: Happy’s pov

bold: song lyrics mention/relation

Happy left to Charming three weeks ago, I didn’t really expect him to ever come back to Tacoma. Even when he went Nomad I lost hope that I’d seen him as often as I wanted to. We’d been friends with benefits, if I could call it that – we slept together, barely talked, Happy being as silent as he was didn’t help much either. I did most of the talking to be honest. He surprised me sometimes though: he bought me a present for my birthday and I hadn’t even told him when was my birthday, so that meant he went through the trouble of finding out himself. He also cracked a joke from time to time without breaking that stony façade of his.

I missed him, more than I cared to admit. A few years back I had the fame of being a bubblegum bitch for spitting out guys like they were bubblegum after I had enough of them. I wasn’t like that anymore but the fame stuck and I couldn’t put it behind me.

Before Happy left to California, he started to spend more time at my place. He used to sneak out in the middle of the night and I would wake up with one side of the bed empty and cold, but on the week before he left he came by every night and I woke up with him, sleeping right next to me. I didn’t tease him about it, but I really wanted to, especially when he snuggled closer to me.

It was the third Saturday since he left and I was home alone, blasting a rock ‘n roll song through my entire apartment as I smoked a blunt. My hair was up in bun and I had on sweatpants and a white bra, bare feet as I danced around. My weekends were boring now that Happy wasn’t here, so I needed something to distract me.

The song ended, giving enough of a pause so I could listen to my doorbell ringing incessantly. I frowned, putting down my blunt and planting my feet on the ground. It was late, almost 9pm. I didn’t get visitors – not ever. It was probably a neighbor coming to complain about the loud music. The next song started and I pressed the pause button on the stereo.

The doorbell kept ringing.

“In a minute!” I yelled as I searched around my living room for a shirt.

Whoever was on the other side of the door was not having it and kept pressing the doorbell. I finally found a white tank top between my couch cushions and pulled it on as I made my way to the door.

“I said in a minute, bitch!” I said as I swung the front door open. “Oh.”

Happy pressed the doorbell one more time and then dropped his hand to the side of his body. He looked the absolute same since I last saw him, even had the same white t-shirt beneath his kutte, the chain hanging low on his pants. I stared at him, waiting for him to say something.

Having her eyes on him was almost a relief. He loved the way she looked at him. There was never any fear on her eyes since the moment they met and she had heard things about him. She had heard his brothers in the Tacoma charter calling him the Tacoma Killer more than once and yet she never asked. He figured she was too scared to ask but as time came by he realized that maybe she didn’t care, or maybe she didn’t ask because she wanted him to simply tell her. He liked to think it was that.

She didn’t care about his reputation and he didn’t care about hers.

She talked a lot and he was hoping that that would help him, maybe she would talk enough to empty his mind out of worry. The club was his everything but he couldn’t deny that sometimes it wore him out. The life was tough - it was shooting straight through the night and breaking down doors to get whatever the club needed. Rarely ever it was ordinary and that was what he wanted from time to time. He needed a break from bringing pain. But he didn’t know what to do. Only thing he knew was that he just needed her, she would make it better, somehow.

He rode his bike all the way from Charming straight to Tacoma just to see her, hear her voice. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t crave her touch as well.

Feel like I’m going insane without you, girl,” he admitted, his voice very low on his throat.

Her brows shot up, her pretty lips parting while she stared at him. He immediately regretted saying it when he watched her reaction but then he saw the glint in her eyes when she pulled her blank expression back together. She couldn’t conceal the feeling in her eyes, not like he could, and she was looking at him the exact same way she looked at him when he wished her a happy birthday and gave her a present. She seemed absolutely delighted.

His gruff voice made my skin tingle in the most unexpected way. It was like my whole body missed him, right down to my soul. And as much as I wanted to jump in his arms I restrained myself. He could’ve just said that. Maybe he was high. It wouldn’t be the first time he came knocking on my door while high.

“You need to tell me if you’re for real, Hap, I can’t be sure with you looking at me like that.” I said, watching him closely so I wouldn’t miss anything.

“Do I look like I’m kidding?” he knitted his brows together.

I couldn’t help but chuckle.

“You never look like you’re kidding, baby,” the pet name escaped my mouth and I pressed my lips together, hoping that wouldn’t make Happy frown or grimace at the name.

“I’m not kidding, little girl. I need you.” For the first time in forever I saw Happy’s face shift, leaving that emotionless expression behind and truly allowing emotion to show through.

“What does that mean exactly?” I asked, my heart hammering inside my chest.

I needed him too, but not for a night stand. I found that I needed to be with him and I couldn’t stand it if he said he just wanted my body. The past three weeks had been the loneliest weeks of my life. I hadn’t realized how fast my days went by when Happy was near – after he left, life was slow, uneventful. Before he left, I knew that I would find him on my living room watching cartoons when I got home and when he wasn’t there I knew that he would appear in the middle of the night and wake me up to have sex. Afterwards I’d tell him about my day and he’d nod, never saying much when I asked him about his day, then I’d sleep with my head on his chest.

“Come back to Charming with me,” he finally said, putting my fear to rest. “I can’t live there without you.”

I smiled broadly, curling my fingers and toes so I wouldn’t launch myself over him.

“Are we going right now? Because I need to get my shit together… Might need some help with that, actually.”

Suddenly Happy’s hands were on me, gathering me up against his chest and pulling me off the ground. My feet swung in the air while I laughed, meeting his dark eyes. I realized, more than a little startled, that Happy was grinning – I’d never seen his lips do more than a twitch before and now I was seeing teeth and joy in the face of a man that was known as extremely dangerous around Tacoma.

“Whatever help you need, girl,” he said, walking inside my apartment with me glued to him. He kicked the door once we were in and the door closed with a slam. “But only after I get your hands on me.”

The Meme and His Tutor

Part 31: The Day Jungkook Got The Best Birthday Present

Co-written with @tragicshadows

Recommended Song: Crazy Sexy Cool by Astro

|All Chapters|Masterlist|


It was the day you finally started your new life in Korea.

Genre: Fluff, comedy

Pairing: Jungkook X Reader (Y/N)

Warnings: Swearing

Word Count: 6820

Length: 31/?

Originally posted by theking-or-thekid

Keep reading

Happy Birthday, Sweetheart

(gifs are not mine)

PAIRNG: Dean x Reader


CHARACTERS: Reader, Sam, Dean, Cas, Gwen (OFC)

WARNINGS: None. Let me know if there are any, I’m really bad at warnings.

A/N: Hey, so as tomorrow (September 19) it’s my birthday, I wanted to give myself a birthday present, and here it is. At first I thought I should’ve make a personalized fic, but I wanted all of you to enjoy it. Thanks as always for reading and remember feedback is welcome

PAIRNG: Dean x Reader


CHARACTERS: Reader, Sam, Dean, Cas, Gwen (OFC)

WARNINGS: None. Let me know if there are any, I’m really bad at warnings.

A/N: Hey, so as tomorrow (September 19) it’s my birthday, I wanted to give myself a birthday present, and here it is. Thanks as always for reading and remember feedback is welcome

When you were a child and had your mother and sister around, your birthday was, with no doubt, the best day of the year. But when grew up and they were gone, your birthday was a day like any other day
Even when you met the Winchesters, still your plans were the same as the other years: watch TV, read, eat cheese burgers and fries, and talk to your best friend, Gwen, over the phone.
Everything was supposed to turn out okay, unless the boys found a case. That way, you wouldn’t be able to enjoy your birthday as you wanted. They wouldn’t turn off the hunt because you had never told them when your birthday was.
Nevertheless, you didn’t regret your decision. You had thought about it a long time. You had even asked Gwen about it, she had told you that you deserved to celebrate your birthday like birthdays should be celebrated, with gifts, people you loved and even some cake.
Your thoughts were different though, with the kind of life you had, you knew that by the next year everything could change. Dean could dump you, Dean could die, Sam could die or both could die. And you couldn’t afford to take such a risk. You wouldn’t get used to something that could be taken away so easily from you, not again.

Keep reading

Silver Spoon Pt. 2

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader x Seokjin

Genre: Angst/ Romance

A/N: (y/l/n - your last name)

Part 1

Keep reading

Make a Wish (iwaoi)

Fandom: Haikyuu!!

Pairing: Iwaizumi x Oikawa

Rating: pg-13

Word count: 7446

Read on archive of our own [recommended]

Hajime has mixed feelings about weekend mornings. On the one side, there’s the process of willing himself to awake despite every cell in his being saying otherwise. There’s having to groggily maneuver himself to get ready for the day and look at least a little presentable because otherwise a certain moron won’t hesitate to pester him about it.

But, they aren’t too bad, because on the other hand there’s-


On the other hand there’s said certain moron.

Right on schedule, Hajime thinks with a miniscule upturn of his lips as he puts on his running shoes. There’s a soft murmur of his parents speaking to one of their favorite brunets, and Hajime can only hope that Oikawa is at least second on that list, after himself.

Haphazardly making his bed, he ambles down the stairs for breakfast.

He’s immediately embraced by his mother into a tight hug as she whispers, “Happy birthday my son.”


So he forgot to check the calendar. It’s not something he finds necessary when it’s the weekend, where there’s no real need to know the date. Still, he thanks her, before receiving an endearing pat on the back from his father alongside another birthday wish.

In the kitchen, Oikawa is leaning against the counter, a cup of what Hajime recognizes to be his favorite yogurt in one hand, and a spoon in the other. He turns his head up from his food by the sound of footsteps and his face breaks out into one of his more genuine grins, the kind where his eyes seem to shimmer.

It’s definitely on the top three in Hajime’s categorized list of Oikawa’s smile.

Gently placing the yogurt on the counter, he takes a few steps towards Hajime and slaps him hard on the back.

“Happy birthday, Iwa-chan.” He says airily, grin still on his face. Unable to hold himself back, Iwaizumi smiles a little and thanks him.

“Now eat up so we can head out.” Oikawa makes sweeping gestures with his hands towards the table. When Hajime takes a seat, Oikawa does too on the chair beside him.

He eats a banana, and a cup of blueberry yogurt that Oikawa was nice enough to bring him. Guzzling down half a glass of milk, he does a few light stretches and bids goodbye to his parents as he and Oikawa begin their morning run.

The air is slightly dewy, and his skin soaks in the calmly glow of the sun pleasantly. Around them is the sound of early rising birds and their own steps on the gravel.

“Iwa-chan is so quiet.” Oikawa adds to the atmosphere as they continue to run. “You’d think he’d show more enthusiasm on his birthday.”

Stealing a glance from his best friend, he notices the playful furrowing of his eyebrows.

“I’m in the middle of running, idiot.” He rolls his eyes. “Besides, it’s just any other day. I didn’t even remember until Oka-san wished me.”

“Weirdo.” Oikawa mutters. “I’ll have you know I was the first one to wish you, Iwa-chan. At twelve sharp. You must’ve checked my text?”

“I fell asleep at around eleven,” Hajime informs. “I didn’t check my phone in the morning either.”

Oikawa squawks in indignation and Hajime can practically feel the tantrum that’s about to arise. “It’s like you’re eighty. Who the hell sleeps at eleven?”

“The guy who has to wake up early in the morning to go running with his demanding best friend.” Iwaizumi counters back.

When he doesn’t get an immediate response, he looks at Oikawa from the corners of his eyes and notices a smile.

The kind that’s a mixture of self-satisfaction, awe and a hint of something else.

He decides that this one is on the top five of his list.

“What the hell are you smiling about, Shittykawa? Is my misery that amusing to you, you sadist?”

A small chuckle is followed by, “no, Iwa-chan. It’s just not every day you call me your best friend.”

Frowning, Iwaizumi stops in his tracks, and so does Oikawa when he notices. “Wait, I’m hoping you weren’t unaware of this.”

The sudden stop in motion has Oikawa slightly out of breath, but he shakes his head with the corners of his lips upturned. “I know Iwa-chan doesn’t have any friends other than me. But it’s nice to hear him say it every once in a while.”

“That is not what I said.” Iwaizumi punches his idiot of a friend on the shoulder and resumes his run. He doesn’t miss the mumble of ‘brute’as he passes by Oikawa.

He knows Oikawa was just teasing him, though. Besides, there’s really no way for Oikawa to think someone other than him is Hajime’s best friend. They’ve been friends for over a decade, and not once has anyone managed to weasel in to steal that title from Oikawa.

They stop again, the motion halted by Oikawa this time who veers off towards a field where something seemingly caught his eyes. He bends down for a little before standing back up.

Oikawa returns to Iwaizumi with a dandelion in one hand, outstretching his arm to present the flower in front of his face.

“Make a wish, Iwa-chan!”

Hajime frowns, eyeing the dork in front of him. He wants to express just how ridiculous he thinks the situation is, but the smile on Oikawa’s parted lips as he slowly breathes in and out while starting at him expectantly has Hajime humoring him.

With that image in mind, he chants a wish in his head and blows on the flower. Tiny petals float away, leaving Hajime’s cheeks feeling uncharacteristically warm.

“There. Let’s go.”

Oikawa doesn’t ask him what he wished for and for once Hajime thanks every higher power out there for his best friends superstitious nature as they resume their run, side by side under the summer sun.

Forty minutes later, they’re panting and in their neighborhood, hands on their knees as they lean over to breathe in and out heavily. The sun’s rays are a lot more viscous now that most of the clouds have passed, and drops of sweat slide down Hajime’s skin, calves burning slightly from the exercise.

They separate to their respective houses, and after exiting from the shower, Hajime sees that Oikawa is back in the kitchen, laughing with his parents.

What catches Hajime’s eyes the most is the fact that his hair is down, in its natural state and messy, still seeming wet.

He’ll never admit it out loud, but he likes this version of Oikawa’s hair a bit more than would be deemed rational. His stomach feels warm knowing that he’s one of the few people who get to witness this hair without it being accidental.

Oikawa is sitting opposite to the Iwaizumis, breakfast laid out in front of him. He’s twiddling with the chopsticks, swirling them in the bowl of beans like Hajime is used to seeing.

“Oh, Iwa,” Oikawa notes his presence before sliding into the seat next to the one he was sitting in.

Hajime’s about to ask why he moved when his mother asks, “Are you sure you don’t want to eat, too, Tooru?”

“I already ate, aunty.” He shoots her one of his most charming of smiles.

“You’re still a growing boy. More food won’t hurt.” Iwaizumi’s father says.

“I’ll burst if I eat anymore.” Oikawa chuckles, and the sound rings through the room like a pleasant hum.

“What did you eat in such a rush anyways?” Iwaizumi snatches the chopsticks from his hands before sitting down. The speed at which Oikawa managed to shower, change, eat and make it to his house is quite uncharacteristic. He couldn’t have eaten much during the short span of time in which Hajime showered.

He notices that his food has been messed with. Sighing, he just rolls his eyes before beginning to eat.

“I can eat all the food in the world in a minute if I have a date with Iwa-chan soon after.” Oikawa sing-songs, much to the amusement of his parents.

“Tooru is so sweet to you, Hajime.” His mother sighs happily, evoking his body temperature to rise.

“He’s only being this way because you guys are here.” Hajime deadpans.

Oikawa gasps dramatically, and from his peripheral vision, Iwaizumi can see him placing a hand on his chest.

“I am nothing but genuine in front of uncle and aunty Iwaizumi. I even show my natural hair to them. They’re practically my second family.”

If Iwaizumi rolls his eyes anymore, he’s afraid his irises will get lost somewhere in the back of his head. Oikawa’s little performance earns him much appreciation from the older Iwaizumis, who boast his sincerity and sweetness.

Really, Hajime is shocked Oikawa’s head remains the same size.

“I’ll be in my room.” Iwaizumi mutters after cleaning his dishes. When granted silent permission from his parents, he advances towards the stairs, Oikawa not far behind.

“Iwa-chan, let’s go shopping.” Oikawa insists as he closes the door. “I want to buy you a present~”

“There’s no need for that, Trashykawa.” Iwaizumi says as he unlocks his phone. Various messages fill up his inbox, but the one he scrolls down to is Oikawa’s.

Happy birthday grumpy-chan! ☆ ~(‘▽^人) See you in the morning~~~ (*¯ ³¯*)♡

He suppresses the urge to smile, going through the other birthday wishes from his teammates and some other friends and replying to them.

“Ugh, Iwa-chaaan! Pay attention to me!” Oikawa whines. “You’re not listening.

Quickly he types in a thanks to Kunimi before locking his phone and tossing it to his bed.

“So needy.” He teases, lying back on his bed. “What is it?”

Oikawa doesn’t even deny the statement, and suddenly he’s hovering over Hajime, knees on either side of his thighs and face above his.

Hajime forgets how to breathe.

“I said I want to go shopping with you, Iwa-chan. To buy you a birthday present. Which is an absolute necessity seeing as you never tell me what it is you want when I ask you.”

Hajime’s eyes shift from the hair that’s fallen messily on his forehead, to his eyes, nose, then lips. All of a sudden, he can think of something.

He shakes the thought away.

“You don’t have to get me a present, Oikawa. You wished me, didn’t you? That’s enough.”

Oikawa huffs in frustration, standing back up with a pout and resorting to yank Hajime off the bed by his arm. “I want to get you a present, so get up!”

If there’s one thing that being friends with Oikawa for fourteen years has taught him, it’s that if there’s something Oikawa wants Iwaizumi to do, he may as well save energy and give up after the first few tries of convincing him otherwise. So naturally, he agrees.

It’s not often he can deny Oikawa Tooru’s wishes.

“Yay~” the six feet tall child muses. “I’ll go get my hair products!”

And before Hajime can even think about protesting, Oikawa is out the door.

“An entire volleyball match can be played during the time you take to do your stupid hair.” Hajime grumbles.

“Unlike a certain ogre friend of mine, I actually care about my looks.”

Hajime wants to argue, say that he never looks anything short of gorgeous regardless of whether or not he bathes his hair in a dozen products, but decides against it. Instead he takes a volleyball from near the foot of the bed and throws it at his shoulder, not wanting to delay the process by hitting his head.

“You stupid gorilla!” Oikawa cries, eyebrows scrunched. “No wonder you don’t have a girlfriend. No one wants to date a Neanderthal!”

“You don’t have a girlfriend either, you ass.” He retaliates.

“That’s because I can never disappoint my admirers by settling for someone.” He answers chivalrously, hand on his heart all saint like.

“Shut up before I punch you.”

“See? Neanderthal.”

“At least I’m not a whiny six year old.”


“You’re not denying it.”

They go back and forth, almost like clockwork. For every tick there’s a tock that follows without delay. It’s comforting somehow, familiar, and at one point Iwaizumi begins to enjoy the offended look on Oikawa’s face.

When the setter finally finishes styling his hair, they make their way to the station. The sun is quite abrasive, so they’re thankful for the short distance.

Hajime wipes a bead of sweat that trickles down the side of his face as they board the train. It’s quite empty, probably due to it being early during the weekend, so they’re able to seat themselves down.

Despite the abundance in space, Hajime and Tooru sit quite close together, knees touching and arms brushing against each other every once in a while.

“Takeru asked for your number last night. Did he call you?” Oikawa asks in a hushed voice.

Iwaizumi smiles at the mention of his favorite kid. “No, he texted me. At twelve, sharp.” He mocks Oikawa’s words from earlier.

Aghast, the setter’s widen. “Did he wish you before me, though, Iwa-chan?”

“Hm, maybe.”

“Iwa!” he hisses, “This is extremely important!”

Hajime stretches his lips into an unimpressed line, lightly flicking Oikawa’s forehead. “Stop fussing over such trivial things, stupid. You were first.”

In a dramatic display, Oikawa sighs in relief. “Being number one isn’t trivial.”

“The only one who views this as a competition is you, dumbass.”

“You’re just jealous I’m such a great friend.”

“You’re a terrible friend.” Hajime throws back, not meaning it.

“Take that back, Iwa-chan!”


“Iwa-chaaan! Don’t be mean!” He whisper-yells, pouting.

“Don’t be annoying, then.”

Just like clockwork, a tock for a tick, for the rest of the train ride.

“Woo~” Oikawa cheers, skipping off the train on to the platform.

Hajime snickers behind the back of his hand at Oikawa’s childish antics as they exit the station. Something in his stomach turns, and it’s pleasant somehow.

Like he’s been doing these past few months, he ignores it.

“What should I buy Iwa-chan? Hmm…” Oikawa trails off, eyeing the shops. “Some anti-wrinkle cream, perhaps? Since you’re always scowling.”

Oikawa emphasizes his point by poking between Hajime’s eyebrows, getting rid of the crease.

“How about some extra adhesive duct tape so I can shut you up when you’re being annoying?”

“I am not buying you that.”

Hajime snickers.

They walk through a few stores, nothing really catching their eyes. Hajime doesn’t know what tangible good he wants. He honestly has everything he needs and then some. When he tells Oikawa this, the brunet just pouts and tells him that there has to be something.

At a sports shop, Oikawa offers to buy him a pair of shoes. Hajime declines, adamant on not allowing Oikawa to spend too much money.

Then Oikawa insists he buy him some clothes because Iwa-chan’s clothes are so plain. Again, he declines.

“Why won’t you let me spoil you, Iwa-chan?” Oikawa pouts petulantly.

“It’s not your job to spoil me.” Hajime replies without missing a beat. “Now go take a seat. I’ll bring you your drink.”

“Fine.” He Huff’s, cheeks puffed. “I want a-“

“Yeah, yeah, I know what you want.” Hajime mutters with the fancy drink in mind. He doesn’t look at the menu as he dictates his order of a lemonade and Oikawa’s complex one of an iced coffee blended with three sugars, two shots of milk and cinnamon dusted on top of the whipped cream.

The cashier blinks twice, and after Hajime repeats himself, the orders are placed, so he waits patiently for the drinks to be prepared.

When he scans the food court for a mop of brown hair, he has to squint to see Oikawa at the farthest corner from where he’s standing.

After reaching him, he sees that Oikawa has a gift bag on one of the four chairs and he’s humming a light tune while tapping his long fingers rhythmically on the metal table.

“When’s you get that?” he asks, placing Oikawa’s drink in front of him. The setter beams.

“I had my eyes on it for a while, so I quickly grabbed it while you were getting our drinks because I knew Iwa-chan would fuss about it if he saw.”

Hajime exhales, reaching for the bag, but Oikawa slaps it away. “Open it at home, Iwa! I don’t want you to ruin the packaging.”

He narrows his eyes, lips turned down. “I’m going to open it either ways, Crappykawa. Why not do it now?”

“Because! It’s weird to open presents in public. Especially when the present isn’t a small one.”

Iwaizumi eyes the blue bag, cursing the lack of gaps to get a glimpse of whatever is inside. Oikawa notices, because he snickers. For once it’s Iwaizumi to pout as he sips on the sweet and sour drink.

“Let’s go home.” Oikawa insists, pocketing his phone. “Unless there’s something else you’d like to buy? It’ll be time for lunch soon.”

Iwaizumi stands up, nodding. He pushes both of their chairs in before catching up to Oikawa, who asks him to hold his drink while he searches for something.

Silently, they walk, a drink in each of Hajime’s hands while the gift bag hangs on Oikawa’s wrist, hands busy with searching through the contents of his wallet.

It’s the one Hajime gave him for Christmas, the outer part with a gray alien head.

Hajime smiles fondly at the memory of Oikawa’s face lighting up at the sight of it.

“Ah!” Oikawa cheers, holding two five yen coins in front of his face. “There’s a fountain by the exit. I want to make a wish~”

With that, he takes his drink and hands one of the coins to Iwaizumi, who doesn’t argue.

They walk to the expertly carved fountain, the tricking of water soothing their ears along with the wishes they have stored in mind, only interrupted by the small plop of the two coins breaking through the surface of the clear water, escaping to the gray bottom, taking their wishes with it.

Oikawa texts and walks as they near their neighborhood, so Hajime keeps an eye out for any veering vehicles. It’s not like telling him off will do any good so he may as well prevent any damage.

He pockets the device when they reach the Iwaizumi residence, and Hajime takes his key out of his pocket to unlock the door.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” Numerous voices chorus as soon as the front door opens, and Hajime jumps back a little with shock and wide eyes.

“What the h-“ he glances sideways at Oikawa, who has the biggest grin on his face, then at his teammates, parents and Oikawa’s family members.

“Surprise, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa grins in a way where the joy reaches his brown eyes. Really, it’s absolutely gorgeous.

Hanamaki and Matsukawa are the first to advance him from the crowd, jumping on top of him and ruffling his hair.

“Happy birthday, vice-captain!” they say in sync, and Hajime laughs as the two - to his great chagrin - taller boys release their grasp.

“Thank you.” He replies, first addressing them and then the rest of the crowd. “You guys really shouldn’t have.”

“You could do with a little bit of Tooru’s self-centeredness, Hajime.” Oikawa’s sister, Akane, chuckles and pats his shoulder. “Now go freshen up quick. We’re serving lunch soon.”

Hajime nods while Oikawa defends his pride, hurrying upstairs to wash his hands and splash some water onto his face. When he’s about to get out, Oikawa shows up, probably to do the same.

“I kept your gift in your room.” Oikawa informs, absentmindedly grabbing the folded sleeve of Hajime’s button-down and adjusting the cuffs.

Hajime’s heart hammers in his chest, and he swallows the lump in his throat as the taller of the two does the same for his other sleeve.

He remembers that he said something, so he nods. “Right, thank you.”

He receives a small smile in return, the kind which is soft and fond and just seems personal, intimate, like it was customized just for him. It drives him slightly insane every now and then when he’s lucky enough to be on the receiving end of it.

This is in the top three as well.

“Now shoo.” Oikawa nudges him towards the stairs gently, hand lingering airily on his shoulder for a second before he retrieves it. “I’ll be right down.”

All Hajime can do is nod, turning around and taking heavy steps down the hall, and then down the stairs, breathing in and out rhythmically to calm his entire being.

“Iwaizumi senpai!” Kindaichi calls as he enters the living room, where all his teammates are gathered, chatting amongst themselves. The middle blocker stands up, his best friend in tow, before handing him a neatly wrapped box. “For you.”

Hajime accepts it with a smile. “Thank you, Kindaichi.” He then turns his eyes to Kunimi, a neutral expression on his facial features, but an expectant look in his eyes. He hands him a small gift bag. “Ever the talker,” he teases, patting him on the back. “Thank you.”

Matsukawa pulls Hajime down on the floor, to sit beside him and an empty spot. When Oikawa arrives, that’s where he sits.

“He visited you in the morning, didn’t he?” Hanamaki asks, glaring at Oikawa. “Bastard wouldn’t let us. Made us do all the work arranging this.”

“Someone had to distract him.” Oikawa turns his chin up indignantly. “Besides, Iwa-chan enjoys Oikawa-sama’s company best.”

He earns himself a punch for the self-imposed title.

Kyoutani chuckles at that, and Hajime smiles, pleased. He notices the boxes and bags in each of his teammate’s hands and feels a sense of gratitude in his stomach.

“Boys! We’re going to be cutting the cake now!” Hajime’s mother calls, evoking everyone to stand up excitedly to walk to the living room

Hajime gestures for them to leave the presents on the couch, walking behind them all to where his and Oikawa’s families are gathered.

“Hajime!” Takeru grins, running to the spiker energetically to give him a hug. “Happy birthday, my favorite uncle!”

Everyone laughs as Hajime hugs him back at Oikawa’s look of alarm and disdain. Kyoutani looks the most amused Hajime has ever seen him.

Everyone and their ancestors are well aware of how much Oikawa values his nephew’s love for him. Hajime is sure Takeru knows too, which must be why he made it a point to announce what he did just now.

“I’m your second favorite, aren’t I, Tak?” Hanamaki asks, kneeling down a little.

“Hm, no.” he says thoughtfully, glancing at Oikawa’s look of hope momentarily before looking back at them. “You and Matsun are tied in that spot.”

The arrows that shoot through Oikawa’s chest are almost visible as the center of attention high-fives the third year duo with each hand.

“I’ll remember this, Ta-chan.” Oikawa states with a frown, and in return, Takeru pokes his tongue out at him.

Hajime has to go through the embarrassment of everyone singing him the happy birthday song while he cuts through the cake (courtesy of Hanamaki’s exceptional baking skills) with HAPPY BIRTHDAY ACE! written on it after blowing the candles and of course, making a wish.

The same wish he’s made the previous two times that day.

He successfully dodges Matsukawa’s fingers that are covered in frosting, followed by Hanamaki, who aims at his forehead. His parents laugh it off, instructing everyone to serve themselves.

“Takeru, let Yahaba-kun eat.” Akane scolds the child who is happily seated on the setter’s shoulders, legs hanging on his front

“That’s alright, Nee-san. I can manage.” Yahaba waves it off.

“If you’re sure.” She beams at him and for a split second Hajime is reminded of just how blessed the Oikawas are in the look sector.

To Hajime – and most of the team’s – amusement, Kyoutani helps Yahaba gather food onto his plate, even offering to carry it to the living room as Yahaba’s hands are gripping Takeru’s legs to keep him in place.

Well, then, Hajime thinks and piles food onto his own plate, not missing the look of dejection on Oikawa’s face.

“Oy,” he punches the crown of his head gently. “You know they were messing with you, right?”

“What if he was telling the truth, Iwa-chan?” he cries. “My own blood. Betraying me.”

“Stop being so dramatic, dumbass.” Hajime scolds, sitting down on the floor in the living room.

Takeru is now sat between Yahaba and Watari, talking to them about his volleyball classes. When his eyes meet Hajime’s, the spiker gestures towards Oikawa, and Take nods in understanding.

He hops off the couch, padding towards Oikawa and hugging him from the back, little arms wrapped around his neck.

“Tooru~” he chimes, slapping his palms against his uncle’s cheeks lightly. “You’re such a crybaby.”

“I am not a crybaby!” Oikawa scowls, but smiles nevertheless.

“It’s usually the adults who comfort the kids.” Hanamaki snickers.

“What’s your point? That’s exactly what’s going on here.” Matsun adds in monotone, making everyone laugh.

“You all are so mean to your precious captain.” Oikawa scowls, eyes narrowed. Takeru is sitting beside him now. “It hurts my fragile heart.”

Watari snorts.

Lunch continues this way, with the team teasing each other (mostly Oikawa) and eventually shifts towards a more general discussion on volleyball.

After eating, Akane serves everyone cake. Takeru runs off, only to return with a box.

“Let’s open presents!” he demands, jumping in his spot. “Hajimeee!”

“Sure thing.” He agrees, and everyone returns to their spots.

“Mine first!” Takeru shouts, handing him the white and gold box. “Well, it’s also from mom and dad, but it was my idea!”

Hajime chuckles and everyone watches as he takes off the box and then the lid to uncover something gray and black in a plastic bag. He takes it out to unfold a branded duffel bag.

“Whoa, thank you, Takeru.” He hugs him, looking at the white logo of his favorite sports brand.

“You’re welcome!”

“Oh, you’re opening presents already?” Hajime turns around to see Oikawa’s father, his daughter beside him.

“Yeah. Thank you for this, Nee-san. Thank Nii-san for me too.” He refers to her husband, who’s on a business trip.

“Don’t mention it, kiddo.”

His parents appear with Mrs. Oikawa, who hands him a rectangular box. His father gives him one too, only smaller, mumbling a, “this is from your mother and I.”

He thanks them both, before the adults leave them to continue.

“Okay, open Makki’s next.” Matsun pushes the navy box towards him, grinning.

Of course, this can’t be good.

“You got me the cake, didn’t you? There wasn’t a need to get something else.”

“Oh, there was.” Makki smirks, gesturing for him to open it.

He does, to find a dog leash with a note saying, to keep oikawa in check in Hanamaki’s bubbly handwriting.

Everyone bursts out laughing, except for the victim, who only glares and whines about how much of a bully Hanamaki is.

“You can even use it for other purposes. I won’t kink shame.” He winks, earning another round of guffaws. Takeru only stares in confusion while Iwaizumi burns with embarrassment.

“Gosh, no one can beat that.” Watari chuckles, outstretching his arms with a pink envelope.

Inside are discount coupons to Hajime’s favorite ramen shop.

“Looks like you’re going to be treating us to ramen soon.” Matsukawa throws an arm around his shoulders, only to get shrugged off.

“Hell no.”

He enjoys going through the presents and each of his team members reacting to them. Yahaba gives him new kneepads, Kindaichi and Kunimi a snapback each from his favorite shop, Yahaba a collection of CDs of all the Godzilla movies, his parents a new wristwatch, Oikawa’s parents a sweater and Matsukawa (unsurprisingly) a Godzilla toilet paper holder.

“Where the hell did you even get this?” Iwaizumi asks, unsure whether to frown or laugh. The middle blocker looks extremely proud.

“In the deep depths of the internet.”

“Now you have a toilet paper holder that matches your face, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa chirps, evoking Hajime to smack him upside the head.

He finishes the process by opening Kyoutani’s present. There’s no way to anticipate what it is, seeing as his face is as stoic as always.

Really, no one was expecting what comes out of the cardboard box.

Hajime – and probably everyone else in the room – stares, aghast, at the coffee mug with the image of none other than Godzilla with Hajime’s face (a little too expertly) photo-shopped onto where the monster’s face would be.

“No way…” Makki mutters.

“Did you make this, Kyoutani?” Yahaba asks.

The spiker grunts in confirmation.

Everyone loses their shit, guffawing and slapping his back at his unexpected humor. Hajime runs his hand over the design, chortling himself.

“Where’s your present, Tooru?” Takeru tilts his head up to look at his uncle.

“Yeah, didn’t you take him shopping?” Watari asks with a mouth full of cake.

“It’s in his bedroom~” Oikawa answers airily, looking proud of himself.

“Oh?” Matsukawa raises a busy eyebrow.

“Bedroom? Could it be?” Hanamaki adds without missing a beat.

Kindaichi blushes at the insinuation, even though he isn’t on the receiving end of the teasing.

“Oikawa, you dog!” Matsukawa emphasizes on the last word, and a smattering of chuckles ensue at the memory of Hanamaki’s present.

Oikawa has his hands over his previous nephew’s ears, who just seems oblivious to the implications. He’s sure to add in a glare to the perpetrators for good measure.

“He’ll learn soon anyways.” Hanamaki waves him off.

“Yeah, because of you, Hanamaki-san.” Kunimi drones in his monotone.

“Thank you, Kunimi.” Oikawa nods, returning the glare back towards the pink-haired third year.

“Its fine it’s fine.” He shrugs.

Iwaizumi punches his shoulder. “No, it is not. At least wait till he’s twelve.”

“You heard Oikawa’s husband, Makki, wait till he’s twelve.”

Iwaizumi is used to it by now so he just rolls his eyes.

They hang out for a few hours, playing on Hajime’s PlayStation. Hanamaki even challenges him to an arm wrestling match, and everyone is cheering and shouting as Iwaizumi gains yet another victory.

Matsukawa is quick to comfort his wounded friend.

“One day, Iwaizumi. I swear on my Shrek light-up shoes.” Hanamaki declares.

Everyone gasps.

His Shrek light-up shoes are no joke.

“I’ll be waiting, then.” Hajime chuckles, scratching at an itch near his elbow.

“You stupid bara arms.” Hanamaki spits, and the petulance almost reminds him off a certain brunet.

At around five, everyone prepares to leave. The second years are first to take their leave, bidding goodbye to the team and the adults in the dining room. Takeru high-fives each one of them, even making Kyoutani break out into a miniscule smile.

Then it’s the first years. Kindaichi, ever the respectful kouhai, bows slightly while thanking the adults for the wonderful food and time. Kunimi does too, only with much less verve.

When it’s Hanamaki and Matsukawa’s turn to leave, they casually take their leave from the adults they’re so familiar with, high-fiving Takeru and telling him to go hard on Tooru. He, of course, grins and says he will before disappearing to the dining room where his mother is.

“Enjoy your present in the bedroom.” Matsukawa mentions, placing a hand on Iwaizumi’s shoulder.

Hanamaki places a hand on the other, saying, “Make good use of the leash.”

“Oh, buzz off!” Oikawa scolds, shoving them out the door.

“Someone’s impatient~” they sing simultaneously, leaving with a wave.

Hajime shuts the door when they’re well out of sight.

“That was fun.” Hajime breathes, smile on his face as a result of the good day. He gathers most of the present in his arms, Oikawa taking the rest. “Thank you for going through the trouble.”

“Oikawa-sama is the best after all~”

“I take back what I said.” Hajime grumbles, walking past him to the dining room.

“Thank you guys for today. I really appreciate it.” He announces.

“Of course, dear.” His mother stands up to hug him sideways due to the presents in his arms. “You enjoyed yourself, yes?”

“Very much.” He beams at her the looks at Oikawa’s family. “Uncle, aunty, Neesan, and of course Takeru, thank you for coming. And for the presents.”

“What are you being so formal about, Hajime? It’s not like we traveled far.” Mr. Oikawa laughs.

He smiles in gratitude, and Oikawa tells them that they’ll be in his room to open up the best present of all.

Hajime would have slapped the back of his head had his hands been free.

Oikawa is pretty much a compressed ball of energy and excitement as he bounds up the stairs, insisting that Hajime hurry as if the existence of his gift has a time limit.

The door to Hajime’s room is – quite enthusiastically – opened by Oikawa. Placing his gifts on the floor, the first thing that he notices is the volleyball on his bed with little scribbles.

The imperative team present, a ball signed by all the members with little messages underneath. Hajime can’t help but grin, planning on reading it after tending to the six foot tall lump of joy.

“Iwa-chan!” he calls, and when Hajime looks at him, he gestures towards his table.

Walking towards it, he sees a photo frame with a picture of them in their Aoba Johsai volleyball uniform, high-fiving sideways, looks of pride and felicity lighting up their sweat-glistened faces. The focus is on them, so the background isn’t clear. The white blurs tell him the other team is most probably Date Tech.

Surely, the picture was taken by one of their school photographers, for it looks clean and professional. He runs a thumb over the metal frame, even more surprised when he reads the kanji at the bottom.

It’s a combination of their first names, spelling out dauntless.

Hajime feels his heart soar and contract at the same time.

“Oikawa…” he breathes.

“Open the bag, Iwa-chan!” he bounces on his feet, and Hajime glances at him to be struck with the image of a human being practically emitting light.

Gently placing the frame on his table, he opens the bag, hands touching a soft green material. He takes the fluffy item out, holding it in front of him.

A Godzilla onesie.

A familiar one.

“It’s like the one I gave you on your eighth birthday.” Oikawa voices Hajime’s thoughts. “I hope you like it.”

To be honest, onesies aren’t the first thing that comes to mind when Hajime wonders what to wear, but the material is soft and it’s sentimental and it’s from the person who means most to him.

“Of course I do. Thank you, Oikawa.”


“Don’t push it.” Iwaizumi warns, but it’s all in good nature. Oikawa laughs it off, falling back onto Hajime’s bd.

He folds the onesie and puts it inside the blue bag, motioning for Oikawa to scoot over and make space for him. It’s a little cramped, what with them being grown boys and the bed being twin-sized, but Hajime thinks he likes it better this way, with their arms touching, heartbeats close by.

“Birthdays are great, aren’t they? Especially celebrating it with people important to you.”

Hajime twists his head to look at his best friend, smiling to himself. “Yeah.”

“Eighteen, huh? I’ll be catching up to you.” Oikawa mutters, since there’s no real need to be loud with them being so close to each other.

“I’ll always be older, though.” Hajime replies.

“At least I’m prettier.” Hajime feels Oikawa’s fingers moving, knuckles tapping his own every now and then.

He doesn’t bother denying it. Anyone would say so too, looking at his milky skin and rich, brown eyes. Anyone looking at his precisely messy hair would twitch with the urge to run their fingers through it. Anyone looking at his soft, pink lips would –

Hajime’s curtains are drawn, but a sliver of sunlight managed to enter his room, a stripe of golden that falls on his wall and curves onto Oikawa’s cheek. Somehow, Hajime can relate. He too wants to peek through obstacles, trespass whatever wall he has to, in order to get to Oikawa. In order to be with him. In order to touch him.

“You’re staring.” Oikawa whispers, evoking a chill to go down Hajime’s spine, even more so when he shifts slightly to make eye contact.

“Yeah.” He whispers back, unable to think of anything else. Everything his mind is screaming at him, he can’t grow the courage to act on it, but at least it makes admitting staring at his best friend seem like child’s play in comparison.

Oikawa’s fingers have stopped moving now. To some extent, Hajime feels like his entire being has, too.

His body feels like it’s on fire. But he can’t bring himself to do anything about it. He can’t bring himself to give in to the warmth, to burn ablaze. He just lays there.

“Iwa-chan?” Oikawa’s voice cracks. He realizes that he’s been staring at his lips.

He snaps out of his reverie, averting his gaze to anywhere that isn’t Oikawa.

“Y-yeah, sorry.” He mutters, standing up on his own accord. Maybe it’s the lack of light. Yes, it’s definitely clouding his vision.

Before he can move to open the curtains, to let the sunlight bathe away his thoughts, he feels a warm hand grasp his, smooth and delicate almost.

He dares himself to glance back, make eye contact once more, maybe come up with an excuse.

But, as soon as his green eyes meet the brown ones that’s constantly been presenting themselves in his thoughts for a while now, his resolve crumbles. Absentmindedly, he sits down, their hands still together. He’s not sure who does it, but their fingers interlace, and the warmth that seeps his entire body is all-consuming and pleasant and it elicits his heart to respond by thrumming like it’s running from something.

Or perhaps, towards.

“Hey,” Hajime gazes at the source of the voice, feeling the mattress shift as Oikawa sits up. Their eyes don’t leave each other, and Hajime bites his lips to prevent himself from saying anything that would have consequences.

Oikawa inches closer, or maybe it’s Hajime. Every movement seems painstakingly slow, dragged out in his mind that’s screaming kiss him kiss him kiss him.

Oikawa’s knee is pressed against the side of Hajime’s thigh, and even though there are two layers of clothing between their skins, he feels the buzz of electricity that cages his every cell.

Oikawa let’s go of his hand, only to lean his body on it, towards Hajime.

“I really want to-“ Hajime’s thoughts somehow leave his lips, but he’s interrupted before he can finish.

“Then do it.” Oikawa murmurs, eyes on Hajime’s mouth, and that’s all the permission needed before Hajime swoops in to tentatively join their lips into a chaste kiss.

It’s everything he imagined kissing Oikawa would be like, with something more. His lips are soft, enticing, and every atom in his body buzz at the touch.

Slowly, he pulls away, actions hesitant as he searches Oikawa’s face for any signs of uncertainty.

“Are you sure this is-“

Shut up.

And this time it’s Oikawa to make their lips meet, and it’s everything the first time wasn’t. It’s everything that Oikawa is.

It’s rough and demanding and it knows no boundaries and Hajime absolutely relishes in it. Their lips meld together hungrily, Hajime’s hands running through Oikawa’s hair to pull him closer, to taste him just a little more. A sound escapes from the back of Oikawa’s throat, and Hajime’s lips part ever so slightly, skin burning is the greatest way possible.

Oikawa is first to initiate tongue, and there’s no room for complaints as Hajime opens his mouth a little wider, Oikawa’s warmth in his mouth as their tongues glide together, no real rhythm left between their lips since all movement is now completely void of order and just desperate, eager, searching.

Hajime takes Oikawa’s bottom lip between his teeth, sucking gently, grazing it carefully in order to not hurt him.

“Mmf,” Oikawa mumbles, before pulling away. It takes less than three seconds for him to adjust position, seemingly uncomfortable from leaning on his hand all this time, shifting on his knees, arms around Hajime’s neck, wasting no time to crash their lips together once more.

A knock on the door has the two practically jumping away from each other. Hajime silently clears his throat, in no doubt that his voice is hoarse.

“Tooru, Hajime? We’re leaving!” Takeru shouts, and with wide eyes Hajime looks over to Oikawa, wordlessly asking if it’s okay to open the door.

Oikawa holds up one finger, placing a pillow on his legs and leaning his arms on it before confirming his question.

Hajime can’t help but smirk as he opens the door. “Hey, buddy, want me to come downstairs?”

Takeru squints for a second, as if searching for something. Thankfully, it doesn’t last long, and he shakes his head. “That’s okay. Mom just thought I should say goodbye. I’ll see you later!”

He opens his arms out for a hug, so Hajime kneels down and wraps his own around the little guy. He’s very aware of his heart thrashing against his ribcage, and he silently prays that Takeru can’t feel it, too.

“See you at home, Tooru!” Takeru chirps, waving and skipping down the stairs. Hajime closes the door again.

Iwaizumi releases a breath he was unaware of holding, looking at Oikawa whose face relaxes from the forced smile.

“Cock-block.” Oikawa mutters under his breath, just loud enough for Hajime to hear who chuckles. Albeit, he is a little disappointed at the interruption. He’s not sure how to advance in this situation, either.

“He just wanted to say goodbye.”

“He lives down the street!” Oikawa whines, running a hand through his mussed up hair. “Ugh!”

“You’re acting like it’s the end of the world.” Iwaizumi raises his eyebrows, sitting back down.

“It may as well be. I was finally kissing Iwa-chan and he had to ruin it!”


Oikawa cowers slightly under Iwaizumi’s questioning gaze, cheeks dusted red. “Oh, gosh.” Oikawa mutters, falling onto the mattress and covering his face in embarrassment. In a movement resulting from adrenaline-induced courage, Hajime hovers on top of him, swooping down to steal another kiss.

Oikawa seems pleased, leaning his face up for their lips to meet again, but Iwaizumi pulls away. “What do you mean by ‘finally’?”

Hajime could let this go. He could disregard the trivial comment and resume kissing his best friend, but passing up on a chance to prod at the embarrassment of the person who’s almost always cocky would be like throwing a sack of money into a bonfire.

“Iwa-chaaan!” Oikawa whines, tugging at his neck in an attempt to get him to lean down. Hajime doesn’t budge. “You’re unbelievable.” He murmurs, glaring. “Of course I meant that I’ve been wanting to kiss you for a while now. Are you happy? Can we go back to doing what we were doing? Or do you have to be more of an asshole?”

Warmth spreads across Hajime’s chest, and his stomach all but flutters. “How long?”

Oikawa glowers, but Hajime doesn’t stir. Oikawa sighs. “A few months? Years? Who knows? And why the hell does it matter? We’re wasting time here.”

What Hajime feels can only be described as glee, mixed with a hint of regret because he could very well have acted on his urges to kiss his best friend a lot earlier and have his action reciprocated. However, bygones will be bygones, and because he doesn’t want to waste any more time than he already has, he kisses Oikawa, detaching their lips only to say, “I’ve wanted to kiss you for a while now, too.” And Oikawa smiles the most tantalizing smile Hajime has ever seen, eyes a little hooded but emotion still crystal clear, lips relaxed but still curled upwards, hair messy and breathing soft.

It has to be his favorite.

Later that evening, when they’re under blankets, limbs tangled together, watching a movie, Oikawa asks, “Did any of your birthday wishes come true, today?”

Hajime simpers, but doesn’t meet his eyes. “I only wished for one thing.”

“And did you get it?” Oikawa prods, genuine curiosity lacing his voice.

Hajime nods, turning to face him. “Yeah, I’ve always dreamt of having a Godzilla toilet paper holder.”

Oikawa furrows his eyebrows, rolling his eyes. “Such a fan-boy.”

Hajime laughs, leaning over to kiss the top of Oikawa’s head thinking that if you want to kiss your best friend, wishing for it on dandelions, fountains and birthday candles just might be the way to get to do it.

i started using a bullet journal about three months ago because it’s so much easier to use than a normal diary which has set layouts and space. The beauty of a bullet journal is that you can include what you want to include and be flexible about how your life is presented. For me, it’s a bit of a brain splurge where i can just put everything down exactly how i see it in my brain at the same time as making it look pretty and it being a useful organisation tool. 

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

My birthday is on Sunday and it always brings bitter feelings. Can I request 2D with an S/O who's not very thrilled about their birthday coming up?

Crikey, it’s my birthday on Sunday too!! Happy birthday for then, anon, I hope it’s not all bad.

You swing your legs, catching your feet on the legs of the chair, as you stare down the calendar on the wall opposite you, as through trying to out-glare it. The shimmering, printed surface faces back, completely innocent and unassuming.

Noodle had only just flipped it over onto June this morning, and something you’d been trying to ignore has suddenly sprung up to greet you.

On the 4th of June, written in big, pink, slightly smudged letters, ’(Y/N)’S BIRTHDAY!!!!!!!!!!!!’ is scrawled, and outlined with little black stars.

You’re going to kill whoever wrote it.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Can I request a Drabble where Diggs planned a birthday surprise for his roommate reader without knowing that he/she doesn't like to celebrate it ? (I just got 18 years old and Birthdays make me feel really anxious ) Romantic or platonic your choice

I’m so sorry this took so long. I was having a terrible block recently. Happy 18th birthday! I know it’s late, but I hope you enjoyed your special day. 

Rafa helped Daveed get everything set up for (Y/N) birthday. She was at work and was due back in about an hour and Daveed was beyond excited to surprise her. 

“Are you sure that you don’t want to take her out and party?” Rafa said has he set up alcohol on the counter.

“Yeah I’m sure, when we went out for my birthday she seemed uncomfortable so I don’t think she really likes the club scene,” Daveed replied.

“Fair enough. When is everyone else going to get here?”

“Jazzy and Anthony are on their way and Oak said he would probably be a little late. I invited all our friends so it should be a good turn out.”

You watched as the clock as the time slowly ticked ever closer to when you were free to go home. It was your birthday and you had successfully managed to keep it under wraps from your co-workers. Your cover was almost blown when you mom had called on your lunch break and the office gossip had took interest in your conversation. She had quickly scurried out of the break room when you shot her a pointed glare. 

As soon as the clock hit five you grabbed your bag and all but ran out of the building. You were excited to just get home and relax with Daveed. He was one of your best friends and had been an amazing roommate for the last two years. He had been on tour last year on your birthday with his rap group clipping. and that had suited you fine since you didn’t like to celebrate in the first place. All you hoped for as you rode the subway home was a nice quiet evening with Daveed watching movies and eating junk food. 

Keep reading


Day 10 of #31DIYsTilHalloween was my Catwoman cosplay!

I’ve been working on this one for months! I am THRILLED with how she turned out and I am so so so excited for my photoshoot for her next week. You might even be able to catch me as Catwoman at @thebourbonroom’s upcoming DCvsMarvel Halloween party! 😉😉😉

This cosplay took forever to find out but ended up costing me next to nothing. I found a catsuit on Ebay for under $20 (look around at reviews and make sure you’re paying attention to sizing info because they sometimes come in Asian sizing which is much smaller!) and the boots were my birthday present to myself a few weeks ago so I already had them in my closet. You can really wear any sexy stiletto heel boot. If you don’t feel like hunting for the perfect catsuit or you just don’t want to wear one, you can also wear plain or wet-look/leather leggings and a tight plain long sleeve black top or fitted leather jacket for the same catsuit effect!
My corset is from Isabella.

I found the mask at a costume shop for $6 and the goggle were $1.75 on eBay from China - keep in mind they take a month or more to ship! I ordered them back in August.

Featuring @pleasershoes @demonia.shoes @legavenue @makeupmonsterscosmetics