lets fall asleep tonight


Eggsy Unwin x Reader

Originally posted by thetaronblog

“the constellations

of stars

                   s c a t t e r e d

across his


is the


that guides me


each time

i find myself


                -you are my home

a/n; this is just pure fluff because eggsy unwin is such an unbelievably soft boy and i’ve loved him for the longest time!! so pls read and give me feedback & criticism & validation bc this my first time writing for him. enjoy!!

tags; @mvximoff @paperclipmac @alexsunmners @rax-writes (if u love eggsy and wanna be tagged hmu!)

also on ao3

His skin is like silk, you think to yourself, as your hand dances across the length of his spine. It’s so soft.

You’re not sure what time it is because at a time like this, when you were sure you both were going to die in a mission gone sideways, the only thing that matters is him and you and that you’re both alive and okay, and that you get one more chance to be together when you swore there might’ve been a chance that one of you could’ve been six feet under by now.

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anonymous asked:

Jeffmads - Sleep

“James… why do planets turn?”

“Mmmph…” James mumbled, turning over. “They turn because they’re trying to roll over away from their annoying boyfriend who won’t stop talking.”

“Seems legit.”

“Thomas, this is your fourth night of insomnia. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, Jemmy,” Thomas laughed, “I’m just… not tired, is all.”

“You normally pass out faster than I do.”

“That’s because you have a very long, very specific bedtime routine that you never, ever break.”

“Yes, and I’ve already finished that routine for tonight, so let me complete it by falling asleep, please.”

Thomas huffed, staring up at the ceiling. There was, of course, a reason for his insomnia. He was terrified of something.



“Sure, if you’re up for it.”

“Thomas-” James sucked in a long breath, and held it before exhaling. “Thomas, what is it now?”

“You look cute when you sleep. Your nose scrunches up, and your eyes squeeze shut-”

“Thomas, please go to sleep.

The taller man sighed, turning over. He wanted to sleep… but… 


James let out a little noise, and turned once again. “I want to kill you right now.” 

“Should be fun.”

Thomas,” James hissed, “We have to be up in six hours for work.”

“Right. Yeah, I know. Sorry.” 

James’ face softened, and he leaned into his boyfriend, stroking his face and over the prickly stubble there. “Okay… tell me things, then.” 

Thomas bit his lip, staring into the tired eyes of the man he loved. Now was as good a time as any, best to get it off his chest. “It’s more of a question, really…” He turned and reached under the pillow to pull out the small velvet box with the ring in it, but when he turned back, James was already snoring. 

“Well…” Thomas mumbled, kissing James on the nose, “It’ll sparkle more in the morning sunlight, anyway.” 

anonymous asked:

who is pete wentz writing songs about?

mikey way. okay, here we go.

so, in the summer of 05 is when most people think it started because fob and mcr played warped together, but, they had also played the year before and thats when i think it started. as many know, pete single handedly wrote the entirety of from under the cork tree, which was released may 3rd of 2005, which means he had been writing some of it the previous summer. most of the album is quite cheery, depicting the emotions of someone who is battling some darker force within themselves, but is also experiencing a happiness from someone else they dont think they deserve or should have (short version: an emo is in love). also, theres the parallel between dance dance and favorite record- dance dance depicts a literal and emotional dance, and then in favorite record you have “i cant remember just how to forget the way we danced”. so, based on research and educated opinion, i believe that the petekey fling started in 04.

then, the next summer both bands were again picked for warped, which only intnsified the relationship. after weeks of spending excessive time with each other and attending each others shows, the media took notice. in an interview that summer, when asked about it he responded “me and pete wentz arent dating. we are both heterosexual males… sort of… maybe… umm… next!”. on may 16, 2005 mikey was spotted at a fueled by ramen show watching fob at house of blues wearing a white jacket that allegedly belonged to pete. a few days later, pete posted a list on live journal of things that get him hot and bothered. on taht list were a.having a crush on a person i speak to nearly every day and b.white denim jackets….

on tuesday, june 28, 2005, pete posted the following on livejournal: “Amazing New Mexico sunset. im hanging on a bridge with my friend mikey from my chem. its all orange and pink above us. we went to another water park again. i love high fives again. totally back in love.” on july fourth he posted an entry that ended with “hot and miserable but totally back in love”. on july 15 he posted “Though I am over hearing your thoughts on haircuts and pants. I’m over us trying to be perfect tens for your little eyes. We don’t care what you think of us. Listen to a song and time your heartbeat. Let it be okay to fall asleep slow tonight. Think about a good friend. Think about god. Think about death. Think about someone elses hand clumsily on your belt in the dark. Think it will be okay. No more rants. No more poetry. Not tonight. True love for the believers”. on july 17 he posted “wrote you a goodbye note (you just wrote me off) on your arm when you passed out. bestfriends, exfriends- better off as lovers not the other way around. racing through the city in the back of yellow checkered cars. the takeoffs are the worst but the skin from your shoulder to your ear makes it all worth it. and im sorry the way my moods flicker on and off like old light on your porch, but i know you wouldn’t have it any other way. sneaking in your window instead of out. the way you hold a cigarette cause you don’t know what to do with your hands when we are sitting this close. the way the waists of pants feel better at the ankles. the way you always were my best excuse for calling in sick on everyone else. i miss you”. which later became the song bang the doldrums, which was origionally titled summer of like (pete mentioned this in a rolling stones interview), which is now what fans call the relationship between pete and mikey in 05.

during that summer, fans claimed that mikey and pete didnt want to be photographed together, which is kind of suspicious…. but there are a few circulating the internet, and quite a few of mikey wearing clandestine (petes clothing line). at this time it was also common for fob and mcr to trade band members, mikey would play bass for fob so pete could take his mic into the crowd. pete also frequently watched mikey play with the stupidest smile on his face….

there are also fan reports of them being seen together. “ at my warped date i got there early in the morning and hung out by the fob bus because i wanted to get a pic with patrick and around 10 am the door opened and a very tired looking mikey stepped off with pete right behind him and they appeared to be holding hands until they saw the people around and they both refused to have their pictures taken together ”. and “during Fall Out Boy’s set (they were one of the closing bands that night) they dedicated one of the songs to Mikey, who was watching from the side of the stage. Pete said, “This song is about revenge. Right, Mikey? Revenge!” Mikey smiled and nodded, and during “Grand Theft Autumn/Where is Your Boy” he mouthed along to all the words.”

pete also posted at one point “i wish you were my bass, not just my friend”. on august 19 he posted “ Warped tour was fun. Since being home I remembered that showering and sleeping are fun too. My real feelings on the sunburst bass. I loved that thing. But then it started cheating on me with mikey way. I had to hit it. Its not my fault- spousal abuse is an ugly thing. I’m in therapy that includes playing lots of warcraft online. Writing messages on your arm for someone to see at a show is the new away message - stealing peoples real diary is the new livejournal”.

on september 4, pete posted “on the getaway car, the rush of blood to the head: it’s strange to find myself again back at the feelings of the blue cover after going through the red and the gold. its kind of always like that. i am sorry if i am not making any sense. but everybody likes to take chances and make bets. i always put my money on the longshots. and no matter where my head was in the world i always dreamed of waking up next to the biggest brown eyes i have ever seen/’meandyouunderneaththehoneymoon’. “go back to what it meant back then”: and you imagine yourself moving deep into the summer and disappearing, and for me it was always with you. and then things got crazy. you stopped calling me back. i stopped trying to call but not in my head. and then you got malicious but i’m guessing only because you learned from the best- take back your taste and all. i never thought it would be just me again. but that’s okay. we’re gonna hole up and wait it out. i feel like i can see for the first time, like i was born just in the last minute. wake me up. baby boy, you’re gonna be okay. hearts between our knees sticking to the summer sheets. are you catching my drift…. its gonna be alright. your love would be hell but its just not hot enough baby.” (Note… baby BOY)

after petes nudes were leaked, hey chris wrote him a public letter which contained the following: “you know the friends i have and you know how we feel about loyalty. you know who im talking about and you know they’re not happy either.” and shortly after chris posted pic of him and mikey saying he’d “found new love”

the summer of 06, peter once again had some interesting things to say. on july 7 he posted “im so sorry, but not really. (‘straighten up and die right’) i said i want to be rebuilt like a frank lloyd wright only without all of the water damage. or painted over like a monet only less blurry. she said “no, youre something different”. like what? “something better”. it gave me the rush of warm blood like you see in cartoon dogs right before their eyes pop out and all of the bells go off. my head is spinning like a car off of an icy guardrail. show me what you are made of. your eyes were always rolling but youd tilt your head so they were somehow always still stuck on me (have your cake and eat it too). i feel safe but not like a bet more like the way mothers feel when the lock the car doors in bad neighborhoods. i am blue waves across the red rootlike veins in the bodies drawn flat in medical books. i wonder at the way that someone can write thousands and thousands of pages about my insides. when i met you i gave you a name- not your own- but in my head so i wouldnt ever mix you up with anyone so ordinary- i cant tell you- but to me it meant salvation. you only wanted reaction. but i cant be bothered. not anymore. ill see you in the spring. first pew on the left. wear your white veil and dont forget the words. warped tour. sun drenched days. bestfriends. new roads. so long salvation. dont worry your pretty little heads. i am sleeping safe tonight.” then the next day, on the 8th, he posted “the fraternal order of the handsome boy. ive been watching you from afar. my breath on the inside window as you walk in from the carcandy caned lies in red and white against clashing patterns bending in and out of understanding. ”youre the stranger ive been dreaming of”, stranger than any ive ever known. love through a telescopic lens. when the air is clear i can see how perfect you are for me. late at night when the city sleeps i cast a spell on you to make you think of me the very same way i think of you. i only love how the words feel in my head when i write them. fireworks over the valley. how can i tell you i gut people for a living. that everything you say is likely to end up as evidence when i rewrite history. over and over again. how everything you do reminds me of something else, someone else. how i get paid to be humble and arrogant at the same time,to be chased and never caught. that i just want to stay up late and wake up early to talk to you. that i want to show you all of my jealousy and insecurity and have you not care. youre like a light switch and i just want to turn you on and watch them all shrink away. the words come out of my fingertips on impulse. it is instinct. my head cant keep up. i envy the comatose. i admire the bedridden. i am addicted to the way i feel when i think of you. ”im blowing smoke rings around the moon….” i wish i was the exact opposite of how the world knows me.”

then, there is infinity on high, which is basically completely about mikey (especially bang the doldrums, because it was born on live journal right after that summer of like…) and ab/ap, due to the constant reiteration of a past love, my favorite being fourth of july with “you are my favorite what if, you are my best i’ll never know”

also othe fact that neither of them can hold a true relationship with women without it ending badly. perhaps because there is someone out there that they are simply destined to be with…. 

so yeah. pete wentz writes a lot of his music about mikey way.

Justin Foley Imagine-

“I need you to stay”

Warnings: Doesn’t talk about suicide or rape, but some mentions of the situations such as the tape and talk about Jessica and Bryce.

Prompt: You are Justin’s best friend and he comes to you the night that Seth hurt him (refer to gif) and you help comfort him a bit.

A/N: I do not agree with how Justin handled things or what he did. I just wanted to write something where you are a supportive best friend

Originally posted by yosolosiento

You gasp as you wake up, feeling some water droplets hit your face. You look over to see Justin, who is completely drenched. “Oh my gosh, Justin what are you doing here? It’s three in the morning” you groan, checking the clock. You look over and see the tears that are falling on his cheeks. “Oh, Justin” you whisper, getting up and hugging him. “There is so much going on” he chokes out, holding you tightly as he hides his face in your neck. You rub his back gently, listening as the sobs escape him. “With the tapes, my mom, Seth, and Jessica. Oh god, Jessica” he sobs out. You rub his back and frown, feeling your own tears form. “Hey, hey, let’s take a deep breath. Let’s get you out of these clothes and take a warm shower. I’ll make you some tea and we will talk about everything, take them on one thing at a time” you assure him and look at him. He looks at you and nods, wiping his eyes as he bites his lip. “Okay” he says softly. 

You get the clothes he left for nights like these, and helped him find a towel for after the shower. You are about to walk out of the bathroom when he grabs your hand. “Wait, I don’t-” he starts, clearing his throat a bit. “I need you to stay, please” he whispers out. You look at him and nod. “I’ll be right outside the door, okay?” You squeeze his hand gently. “I won’t go far, and if you need me I will be right there. I promise.”  You look at him. He nods and bites his lip, letting go of your hand and taking off his wet shirt. 

You walk out of the bathroom, keeping the door unlocked. You sit against the wall, waiting to hear the water start to run. When it does, you let out a soft sigh. You knew Justin had been stressed, and you knew his family situation and about the tapes but he distanced himself, causing you to be a bystander in his life. It had been months since the last time he had come to you with one of his problems. 

You could hear his sobs again, knowing he was trying to stay quiet you stayed in your spot. It was hard for you to listen, he doesn’t cry like this often. You bite your lip as you think about how tonight is going to go down. Before you can get too lost in thought, your mom comes to check on you. “Hey, what’s going on? Who is showering at three in the morning?” she asks, confused and barely awake. You bite your lip. “It’s Justin, he came here crying again and he’s really struggling mom.” You say softly. She nods gently and sighs. “It’s okay, take care of him tonight and in the morning we will all figure something out” she says softly. “You’re a really good friend, you know that?” she looks at you after a couple seconds of silence. You bite your lip and nod gently. “Thanks mom, that means a lot” you say. She nods and goes back to her room. 

You bite your lip as the shower stops. It takes him a couple minutes to get dressed and come back out. You stand up and look at him, focusing on the way his eyes were puffy and red. “Hey, let’s go get your clothes in the dryer and get some tea ready. Have you eaten recently?” You ask him, he shakes his head softly. “Let’s get you something to eat too” you nod. You go downstairs and he follows you. You get his clothes in the dryer and make him tea and whatever food you could find. You set the plate and cup in front of him and rest your hand on his knee. “Let’s start with tonight, alright?” You say, studying the marks on his neck. 

He clenches his jaw a bit, looking down at the food. “Seth, he uh, he tried strangling me tonight” he says softly, and you watch as he bites the inside of his cheek. “And my mom, you know, she just,” he takes in a deep breath. “She didn’t kick him out or anything. She just stood there and watched it happen. She didn’t try to help me, she didn’t even say anything” he says, the tears falling again as he bites his lip and lets out a sigh. “She doesn’t even care about me, or what happens to me.” he shakes his head. You frown, standing up to hug him tightly. “Oh Justin” you whisper and hold him. “I’m so sorry” you rub his back. He shakes his head. “It’s fine, you know, it’s whatever” he says, trying to sound stronger. You shake your head and look at him. “Justin, stop trying to act strong and tough. This is hard, this hurts. You can’t ignore it, you can’t hide those feelings and pretend they aren’t there. You need to get it out, it is good to get it out.” You look at him. “I’m so proud of you” you whisper. 

He looks at you, his eyes almost finding a sense of hope. “No one has ever been proud of me before” he whispers, swallowing hard to keep from crying again. You look at him, holding his hand. “I’ve always been proud of you Justin. I will always be proud of you Justin” you assure him. He looks down and thanks you shyly. You nod and sit with him, watching as he quickly eats his food. He doesn’t talk anymore in the kitchen, a comfortable silence filling the space between you two. 

Soon, you guys make your way back to your room. You lay in your bed and he cuddles up to you. You play with his hair gently. “Wanna talk about more?” You ask him softly, not trying to push anything. He bites his lip and looks at you. “Is it all my fault?” He asks softly. “Like, the tapes and Jessica?” he asks softly, his eyes looking more sad than before. You sighed gently, not wanting to offend him. “I wish I could tell you a solid no, I really do, but part of it is.” You nod and look at him. “You did send that picture out, not really stopping Bryce. But no, what happened to Jessica is not your fault” you look at him. “You did try to stop him, and though you were unsuccessful, you still tried to do the right thing. Not telling her what happened was wrong, and standing behind Bryce was wrong, but Justin you are still a good guy. You have changed from all of this, and you realize that what you did was wrong. You can’t fix it, and I am so sorry you can’t. But that doesn’t mean you are alone through all of this.” You kiss his head gently. “Bryce made a lot of decisions that weren’t okay,  and you did stand behind him a bit but you have changed, and I’m glad you did.” You look at him. He nods gently, biting his lip as he rests his head on your shoulder again. 

“I regret it, you know? I regret not trying to stop him sooner, I regret the picture, I regret hurting them” he says softly, after a few minutes of silence. “I know you do” you say softly. “Jessica is never going to speak to me again.” He shakes his head, tears falling again. “What am I going to do?” He looks at you. You look at him. “You can speak out, tell the truth about what happened.” You say softly. “You know, Jessica is going to need time. You tried talking to her, right? It was too soon, but you can take time to reflect on it again and make some changes and talk to her again. She may not accept it but at least you tried.” You say softly. “You can’t fix anything, but you can be more aware and speak the truth and try to build relationships again with the important and supportive friends” you look at him. He nods, swallowing hard as he looks at you. “For tonight though, I’m glad we talked it out. It’s a step to a long journey to recovery” you say softly, rubbing his back gently. “Let’s get some rest, yeah?” You say gently. He nods gently, and bites his lip.

You guys slowly fall asleep, letting the events of tonight take over. He was tired, you knew he was, he was tired and felt guilty and all you could do was be there for him at this time.

You slept till about 9 in the morning, still exhausted from the events of last night but worry coursed through you and it kept you awake. Justin was still peacefully sleeping. His eyes were still puffy, and he still seemed stress. You could never mistake the dark circles under his eyes. You decide to stay cuddling him till he wakes up. He slowly does around noon, and he looks at you. “Good morning” you smile gently at him. He still had a sad look on his face, it felt empty. “Good morning” he said softly.

You held his hand, rubbing gentle circles on it. “Hey Justin, I talked to my mom and she wants you to stay” you say softly. “I want you to stay here for a while, in fact, I need you to stay, okay?” you say gently. He looks at you. “What do you mean?” he asks. “We have a guest room, my brother can come with us to get some clothes, you can stay with us. I don’t want you going back to Seth and your mom, not right now.” You say softly. He nods. “Thank you” he says softly. “That means a lot” he whispers, looking at you. You nod and hold him. You let comfortable silence fall between you again. Neither of you had energy for conversation anymore. You thought about everything last night, with what you said and how to help him through it all. You bite your lip gently. “Hey Justin” you say softly and he looks to you. “I’m always going to be here for you” you whisper. “I promise” you say. That promise was one of the first of many to come, he needed it and you knew he did, and you kept it making sure never to lose his trust or him.

Save Tonight

This is for @dr-dean ‘s A/B/O Birthday Challenge! My prompt was the song Save Tonight by Eagle Eye Cherry. I hope you enjoy it, love!

Summary: Dean and Cas prepare to face yet another doomed situation.

Warning: Smut, a/b/o dynamics including knotting, alpha!Cas and omega!Dean, angst

Word Count: 1700ish

A/N: Feedback always welcome! XOXO

“How many times have we saved the world now?” Dean asks.

He sounds so tired. Too tired. Cas wants to put him to bed and make him sleep until those dark circles under his eyes are gone. But that’s not an option right now. It’s never an option. “Quite a few,” Cas answers instead, watching Dean closely as he takes a drink of his beer.

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The Distraction

Entry for nichelle-my-belle’s 4K Angst Challenge (thanks for including me)

Pairings : Dean x Reader, Sam

Warning : ANGST, First Time Writer (constructive feedback welcome)

Word Count : 2,616

The Distraction


The last thing you wanted to do was go ‘celebrate’ tonight.

You were grateful this had been a simple salt and burn.  Too many of the cases lately were taking their toll on you — on all of you.  You’d spent so much time on the road recently; you’d almost forgotten what the bunker looked like. You missed the privacy of your own room; the big open spaces throughout the old building; the library that you could lose yourself in.  For several weeks, you’d been shoulder to shoulder with Sam and Dean. The three of you stuck in Baby, sharing one room, one bathroom and too often, a bed with one of them.  

In the tight quarters of the car or a dingy hotel room, there was nowhere for you to hide.  Several side-glances from Sam let you know that in your exhausted state, your facade was starting to fail.  When you were focused on a job, you could ignore your feelings for Dean; sticking your nose in a book or keeping your eyes glued to the screen of your laptop. But with this run, there were too many nights with the three of you holed up, beaten and bloody, trying to get some sleep before the next long drive, with  nothing to do but think.  You couldn’t shut out the world around you when Your World sat on the bed next to you arguing with Sam, drinking beer, intent on watching some horrible old cowboy movie.  You tried to participate, but every time you looked at him, relaxing… smiling… it splintered your heart just a little more.  The last few nights you’d feigned exhaustion; pretending to fall asleep early and forcing the two of them to do the same. You lay awake, listening to Sam softly snoring and Dean’s deep breathing to make sure they were both asleep before letting the tears quietly fall.  

But tonight, once you got back to your motel, Dean demanded that you all go out for one last “hurrah” before the long drive back to the bunker in the morning.  You loathed going out with Dean and Sam.  You’d take your place in the same corner booth that every bar across America had; counting down the minutes until Dean wandered off and found a busty bombshell to charm his way into for the night.  Sometimes Sam would stay with you, but there were times when he gave you those sad puppy dog eyes, pleading to be set free.  You’d smile, the same smile, pushing him out of his chair; complaining he was “cock-blocking” you and with a sweet, silly grin he’d be off to find his own companion to help him forget for a little while.  

 You never drank as much as you did after meeting the Winchesters. The alcohol helped you momentarily forget the horrors that your day-to-day brought you.  Sometimes it even lessened the pain of losing your mother and sister all too young to werewolves, forcing you into the Hunting life. But as much as you tried, the alcohol never seemed to squelch the fire in you that burned for Dean.

You tortured yourself, town after town, watching him endlessly twist women around his little finger.  Longingly, you memorized every move; him leaning into the bar lightly brushing the girl’s shoulder with his, buying her a drink, introducing himself with a harmless handshake.  He’d pretend not to hear her over the sounds in the bar so he’d lean into her ear, his face just a little too close to hers, his hot breath giving her chills as she became intoxicated by his cologne. That’s the move he’d repeat, lingering longer each time; sometimes resting a hand on her thigh to ‘balance’ himself or push a strand of her hair behind her ear, but you knew once his hand began to trail along her arm he’d be nodding towards the door, throwing some money on the bar with a wink and help her to her feet.  Then his hand would be on the small of her back, whispering something in her ear to make her giggle as they headed out the door.

You knew every piece of his repertoire, including the rare occasion when it wasn’t working.  You couldn’t imagine any woman saying no to Dean Winchester, but you were grateful when they did.  He’d come back to the table – to you – and you’d spend the rest of the night laughing and drinking, sometimes making fun of Sam awkwardly trying to pick up a girl. Those times were getting fewer and farther between, but you cherished those occasions, knowing it was the closest you’d ever get to having him.

This night you decided to take a little longer with your hair and make-up.  You had snuck away in the last town and bought yourself a new pair of jeans and low-cut top.  You wanted to feel good about you.  You wanted someone to notice you. You wanted a man to notice you, and since you knew that man wouldn’t be Dean, you would need every bit of external “ammunition” to help you boost your confidence to pull this off.

               “Y/N/N! Shake your ass!” Dean bellowed as you put the finishing touches on your look, taking a deep breath and opening the door.

               “What the hell took you – “ Dean stopped mid-sentence and just stared. His silence made Sam look and a goofy grin spread across his face.

               “Whoa! You look beautiful Y/N.” Sam sang. “Hot date tonight?”

               “We’ll see.” You tried to joke to release some of your own tension.

               “Let’s go.” Dean snatched his keys off the dresser and stalked out the door.

               Sam shrugged and followed with you hot on his heels.

The ride to the bar was uncomfortable.  Sam tried to make conversation, but every time he turned to talk to you, Dean fiddled with the radio; the static or high pitched squeal drowning Sam out.  When you parked in front of the local bar, Sam ran around to the driver side to catch Dean.

               “What the fuck is going on?” He demanded. “You’ve been acting like an asshole since before we left!”

               Dean looked at you over his shoulder and back to Sam, “I’m fine Sammy. I just need a drink.”

You and Sam looked for a place for the three of you to sit while Dean ordered at the bar.  When he came back, he sat next to you, putting you between him and Sam in the booth. You tried to focus on the music; just watching the people around the room.  Sam leaned in and whispered about the guy two tables over that was already way too drunk for this early in the night.

               When the waitress walked over, you formed a knot in your stomach. She was just Dean’s type and you knew he’d be disappearing soon.  She tried to catch his attention, leaning unnecessarily far over the table to sit down three beers and three shot glasses.  Her presence didn’t even register to Dean until she spoke.

               “Here Honey,’ she said to you as she set down another shot glass. “This one is from the blonde at the end of the bar.”

               All three of you leaned over at once as the man nodded back with a smile. You smiled and lifted the glass mouthing a silent “thank you”, but his smile suddenly became wide-eyed fear as you felt Dean’s body tensed and stare lingered.

               “What an asshole.” Dean said with a huff.

               “What do you mean?” Y/N asked.

               “You’re sitting here with two other guys and he buys you a drink? How does he know you’re not with one of us?”

               You chuckled, annoyed, and shook your head, “Seriously?”

               “What?” He was getting pissed.

               “Forget it.” You huffed, but he wouldn’t let it go. “How many nights have I sat next to you in a bar with women shamelessly throwing themselves at you or you throwing yourself at them? Apparently like everyone else, they don’t think I’m your type!” Now you were pissed. You pushed at Sam to get out of the booth and walked to the ladies room trying desperately not to cry. Fuck him! Why should he care? Whether it was Mr. Rogers or Charlie Manson buying you a drink, it was none of his business.

               Sam just glared at Dean in disbelief.

               “What?!” Dean yelled at him. “Knock of the bitch-face and tell me what just happened?”

               “You really don’t see it?

               “Dammit Sammy!”

               “She’s obviously in love with you Dean. Has been for months.  And you’re too stupid to see it or realize what you could have. Watching you trot off with a different girl every town…. All that anger and jealousy you’re feeling right now, she’s bottled it up over and over again.  I guess tonight was the last straw…”  Sam slammed his shot, grabbed his beer and walked away.

Dean sat there, confused and angry.  He rubbed his face, combed his fingers through his hair and cursed at both of you under his breath.  Dean loathed trying to find a distraction in every town. He hated  how many times he  started a random make-out session in the parking lot, ending it  by pretending to be too sick or too drunk to follow through, because it wasn’t you.  He loved you and hated himself for it. He wanted so much better for you; someone who could get you out of this Hunter’s life and keep you safe.  He wanted to forget you; forget the softness of your skin when you’d help sew him up after a fight. Forget the sweet smell of your hair just after a shower. Forget the sound of your laughter when you made fun of Sam. Forget how sexy you looked holding a gun. But most of all, he desperately needed to forget how you looked in his fantasies, laying underneath him while he made you scream his name.

Dean angrily slammed his shot, and both of yours, before taking his beer to go find a Distraction.

 You looked at yourself in the mirror, damning yourself for letting him get to you – again. Asshole! You took another deep breath and decided to go back to your old stand-by – get drunk and pass out.  You’d be at the bunker in the morning and could hide in your room and try to pretend tonight didn’t happen. You headed back in the bar to find Sam.

Dean found his Distraction at the pool table. She was too blonde, too made up, too little clothing, too loud and too obvious – the exact opposite of you. He grabbed another shot at the bar as he watched her, getting her attention.  She smiled, bending just a little bit more at the waist when she took her next shot.  He knew he was going to hate himself, playing this game again, but just one more night and he’d be back at the bunker, hiding in his room, trying to pretend tonight didn’t happen.  Another shot later and he made his way over to the pool table.

Sam must have been watching for you because as soon as you walked back into the bar, he was on you.

               “Y/N/N! Come hang out with me.” You looked around the bar until your eyes landed on Dean. Your whole demeanor changed and Sam felt it. “Please, don’t do this to yourself. He’s being an asshole.”

               “Sam. It’s ok. I’m not his type and I never will be.  I just need to get over it.”

               “No, she’s not his type.” He said pointing towards Dean. “He’s in love with you, I know it. He just doesn’t believe he deserves you.”

               “Sammy – “ you started to scold when he stopped you.

               “Y/N do you trust me?”

               “Of course, but –“

He stepped closer. Holding your face in his hands and leaned to whisper in your ear. “Go. Show. Him. I’m not wrong about my brother.”

Your heart was racing. If you took this risk and Dean didn’t respond, you’d be devastated. Devastated and homeless; it would be impossible to stay at the bunker after that.  You’d lose him and Sam.  But if Sam was right, and Dean loved you like you loved him…. Your mind could even wrap around the thought.

               “Come on, Y/N/N.” Sam whispered.  You nodded as you tried to get a grip before walking towards them.

Dean was now drunk, but his mind was still on you.  He never saw you walk out of the bathroom and didn’t know where Sam was.  His stomach was sick with the thought that you’d left with the guy from the bar. The Distraction was talking, but he wasn’t really listening. He’d smile and nod, rubbing against her once in awhile to keep her there.  He slumped on the bar stool watching The Distraction entertain herself while his mind drifted.

She slinked over to where he sat and whispered in his ear, “Why don’t we get outta here, baby.”  

               “Onemoregame.” He slurred, trying to delay just a little longer. She whimpered and nuzzled into his neck. He sloppily wrapped his arm around her back in a haphazard hug.

               “I’ll play.” You said as you approached the table.

Dean stood up nearly knocking The Distraction over.  He didn’t say anything as his eyes wandered over your body, back to your face to try to read what was happening. The Distraction stepped closer again to Dean wrapping her arm around him.

               “No thanks.” She snarled at you.

               “Come on. We can make it interesting.” You cooed. “Winner takes him home?” You pointed at Dean and he swallowed hard.

               “I don’t think – “ The Distraction started, but Dean cut her off.

               “I’m game.” He shot around her. “I uh… I win either way.” He winked at you knowing your superior skills playing pool.

               “Fine.” The Distraction conceded before grabbing Dean’s face and kissing him hard.  She walked over to set up the balls at the opposite end of table, when Dean grabbed your arm.

               “Don’t you dare lose.” He whispered.

               “I don’t plan on it.” You whispered back, brazenly nipping at his ear. You thought you heard him growl before you walked over to grab a pool stick.

               “Please, you go first.” You offered to The Distraction’s further frustration.

               “Watch yourself, little girl. You’re swimming in the deep end now.” She warned, as she broke open the game.

Dean held his breath as one solid ball fell in the pocket.

               “I guess I’m stripes.” You walked slowly around the table, lining up shot after shot as each ball fell away from the table.  The Distraction was fuming; poorly trying to hide her emotions. When you called the last ball for the top left pocket, Dean held his breath. When it fell in the hole, he jumped out of his seat pumping his fist.

               “You aren’t really going home with this slut, are you?’ she questioned him.

               “It’s Y/N, by the way.” You winked, holding out your hand to Dean as if introducing yourself for the first time.

               “Dean.” He played along, sliding his hand though your hair to the back of her head and pulling you to him for a kiss. You felt your knees weaken and your heart sing.  He pulled back, breathing heavy as he rested his forehead against yours, grinning from ear to ear. “Oh, I’m so going home with her, sweetheart.” He answered The Distraction as he wrapped an arm around your waist and started to lead you out the door. “We may not even make it out of the parking lot.”

His hand was on the small of your back, whispering in your ear making you giggle as you headed out the door.

@nichelle-my-belle @amfictum

feel like falling asleep on the roof tonight, letting the stars fall down on me: a rain of pollen, on fire, on the very tip of my tongue. fall off, maybe, maybe out of trees, maybe out of my head like a sliver of thought, like a leaf in the autumn. summertime has never been a part of me, not quiet enough, not watchful. there’s something abt this particular stretch of highway when it’s snowing, there’s something abt the way the parking break paints our faces neon, there’s something here that makes me want to crawl from the wreckage of everything and make a home underneath it all. these layers of pine needles spell out my name, an omen of something dark, tasting like motor oil and how it feels to breathe below freezing.

anonymous asked:

It's 4 in the morning but I just had this thought. Yamaguchi coming home one day and there's a bunch of yelling and stuff being thrown and he doesn't want to get in the middle of his parents fighting but then his dad starts to yell at him and he bursts into tears and runs out of the house. He keeps running down the street until he bumps into someone. (part 1)

That someone ends up being Kageyama. He seems that Yama is crying and even though he’s not that good at comforting people he asks if Yama would wanna talk about it anyways. They both end up sitting on a swing set and Yamaguchi tells him about his family problems. Turns out Kageyama doesn’t have a great family experience either. They spend the night talking and it’s a bit awkward sense they don’t speak much but it’s comforting. (Part 2) (end) -Tornado

 Tornado why do you like pain?? (Also tw: slight homophobia/mentions of abuse.) 

“Shut up! It’s not my fault your job is horrible!” Tadashi cringes as he opens the door to his house, hearing something fly across the living room and hit the wall. 

“Well maybe if your fucking son wasn’t a queer I’d get more respect at the office!” 

“You keep Tadashi out of this! This is your problem, not his!” 

“Like hell it isn’t!” 

Tadashi flinches at the loud roar, and the sound of a beer bottle slamming onto the table. As his father continues screaming, Tadashi quietly slides his shoes off and attempts to tip toe past the open doorway of the living room, trying to avoid the argument. 

“–he– You!” Tadashi freezes like a deer in headlights, head whipping around in time to see his father storming towards him. “This is your fault!” 

Tadashi feels his breathing leave him, and he takes a step back. 

“Haru, leave him alone! He’s done nothing wr–”

“You stay out of this!” Haru whirls around to snarl at his wife before turning back to his son, getting in his face. “You. Why did you have to turn out like you did? Huh? Why couldn’t I have a normal son?! You’re pathetic! Lusting after your glasses friend, getting bad grades–”

“Tadashi is in honors classes, Ha–”

“I said shut up!” While his father is distracted, Tadashi takes the opportunity to run. He runs to the door and rushes out, barely taking the time to slide his shoes on his feet, his heels bending the back of them inwards as he runs down the street, his father yelling after him. He can’t breathe, and he doesn’t know where he’s going. Where is he going? Tsukki’s house is in the opposite direction. Tears find their way into Tadashi’s eyes and he tries to fight it, but a sob rips from his throat, and suddenly he can’t even see where he’s running any more. 

“Oi, watch– Yamaguchi?” 

His lungs burn. He can’t see. “Wh- Wh–” 

“Yamaguchi, you’re crying, are you ok?” 

“K- Kageyama.” 

Tobio is the last person he expects to see. He’s pretty sure he lives off in the direction Tsukki did, and he had no reason to be out on the opposite side of town so late. 

“Are you ok?” His voice is uncharacteristically soft, and it calms Tadashi enough for him to speak. 

“Y- Yeah…Family stuff, is a- all…” 

Tobio’s face contorts into a frown, and he looks hard at Tadashi. “You didn’t get hurt or anything, did you?..I mean, your dad didn’t– didn’t hit–”

“Oh, no, no he– He didn’t hit me! H- He just gets l- loud, and m- mean when he’s…when he’s…” Tadashi can’t bring himself to finish his sentence, and he finds himself sobbing once more, collapsing into Tobio’s arms. 

“I get it, I understand,” Tobio says quietly, guiding Tadashi – where is he taking him? – off. “My dad isn’t all that great either. Drinks too much, smokes too much, he’s too loud…” 

Tadashi’s face contorts into worry, and Tobio rubs his back lightly in reassurance. “He doesn’t hit me, I promise, but…he’s a bit rough on the edges.” 

They arrive where Tobio had been leading them, and Tadashi is met with a familiar sight. The park he met Tsukki at. Tobio pulls him by the hand to the swing set, and they both take a seat. Tadashi pushes himself lightly on the swing with still-shuddering breath. They both sit in silence, just sitting and swinging. 

“So…” Tadashi flinches at the suddenness of Tobio’s voice, but steels himself upon the hurt look on his face. 

“Sorry.” He whispers. 

“It’s ok.” Tobio says. “I understand.”

They fall silent again, and Tadashi gulps. “Wh- What were you going to say?..” 

“Oh. Uh– I, uh– I kind of figured there were problems at home with you. Before, uh– before…this…” 

“You did?..” 

“Yeah, uh–” Tobio coughs. “You’re always so jumpy, and you stick around Tsukishima a lot. I figured there was a reason you stuck around such a big, arrogant guy…Was I wrong?” 

“No, I– well–” Tadashi sighs. “M- Maybe a little…I- I don’t stick around Tsukki for protection, b- but it’s nice to have the reassurance…” 

“Ah,” Tobio says, “I see.” 

“He, uh– He doesn’t know…About my father. We always stay at his house. I’d prefer it if you didn’t mention anything about this to him…” 

“No worries. I won’t. You won’t tell anyone about this either, right?..” 

“O- Of course not.” 

They lapse into silence again, and they both sit on the swing, swinging lightly. 

“Thank you…by the way.” 

Tobio cocks his head in confusion. “For what?” 

“For…” Tadashi gestures vaguely. “Making my night better? I guess. I– I don’t know where I would be without you…I had no idea where I was going…Until I ran into you…” 

“Oh.” Tobio smiles lightly at Tadashi. “Yeah. Well. Thank you. For– sparing me from having to go home for a while…” 

“O- Of course.” 

They sit there, at the park, swinging and talking, until Tadashi is is sleepily drooping against the chain linking the swing to it’s support. Tobio helps him sneak into his bedroom, and goes home, content with the night as he climbs into his own window. 

Tomorrow, things are going to be the same as always. But for tonight, Tobio lets himself fall asleep to the comforting fact that someone else is like him, too. 

Thank You

If there is only one thing you remember before you fall asleep tonight, let it be this.

I love you, and I will never love anyone as much as I love you. You are loveable in all the ways poetry has ever described love. You are wonderful in every universe, across every spectrum of colour and light and perfection.

I am going to do my best to be better. I need to learn to be better for myself. I need to be proud of who I am without you, so that I feel I deserve you. This is something that can work, not because we love each other, but because we hate the possibility of ever having to try and love anybody else.

Thank you for being here. Thank you for letting me spill and overflow. You are my one and only, and I promise that I will not let this slip through my fingers until they break.

1. By the time you’re 23, you will realize two things. One: If you keep giving everyone small pieces of you, eventually, you will break. If you keep loving everyone more than you do yourself and if you base decisions for them rather than for yourself; you won’t have anything left to give yourself. You will feel empty and nothing will taste great because you have given up your salt and your pepper. You deserve to be bitter. You deserve to have spice. You deserve to be sweet. If you give everyone your immediate response and never give yourself the time to think it through; you’ll just end up alone and with nothing left to give. Two: By now you will have learned to give it out carefully because the truth is, not everyone who appears like they will always be there will be. And it sucks that you will be this way, but if you ever want to grow, that is the first step.

2. Some nights, the moon will rise in the sky, but some nights, it rises inside of your eyes. Some nights, you can’t sleep. Some nights, you stay all the way up with the stars until the sun comes up. Some nights, you will be so alone that even the company of family will feel like the ultimate loneliness. Some nights, not even the comfort of your own bed and pillows can give you the sleep you crave for. Some nights, the promises will come back to haunt you. Some nights, you will come back to scare yourself. The truth is, they aren’t thinking about you as much as you’d like to think that they are. So that embarrassing thing you did in the past, no one remembers or cares about it, only you. So take it from me, for tonight…? Let this be the “some nights” you’ll fall asleep.

3. If you’ve ever been shy with starting a conversation, if you’ve ever been so nervous, your first words, you know that they will come out wrong no matter where your strange burst of courage comes from. Some advice, do it anyway because you never know, they might be ready to talk to you. Maybe… They are just as nervous as you. So hell, the old saying: you never know until you try. And how about some spice; you’ll always regret never knowing it. So you may as well try. Always try. Nothing bad can come out of it, if it doesn’t end up exactly like how you have imagined it, it’s okay. You have a million opportunities to keep trying. It isn’t the end until you have lost yourself. And even then, I still believe that trying is the key to success. It has to the one. You have to keep at it. And if you need it, I believe in you.

4. By the time you are 23, you will fuck up at least more times than 4 sets of fingers can be cut off by a butcher knife made from stars that you thought would last forever. Here’s something else, all you may see is their shine, but the truth is you’ve been missing the main one the whole time. Your own. Your shine. Don’t believe me? Ask your lover. How do you look when you sleep? Everyone is peaceful when they’re at ease. Everyone is beautiful when nothing in the world can slip into their mind. Everyone is pure when they’re asleep. Your mistakes are there for a reason. A learning curve. A block in the road. You may never forgive yourself, but you must and you will. Because that’s the greatest thing a person can do. Accepting yourself. No one is perfect.

5. You will have made a best friend. You may never tell them the whole truth, but they will know. You will depend on them more than your own heartbeat and that there is something worth keeping. That tattoo made just for them. That star you named after their voice. That day you dedicated to their beauty. That hug you’ve always wanted to give out. That family member you’ve always needed. The trust you never had to worry about. You will have that person. And if you don’t? Keep looking. They are out there. Look a little harder. He’s sitting in that book shop. She’s walking down the beach. He’s writing the importance of life. She’s stealing flowers from the earth. And if you never find this person, I’ll be honest; you will need to understand that your first friend, will always have to be yourself. First and foremost, you need this level of understanding about what you want and how you want it. This person is your equal, but you will swear that they are more. They may seem unreal and may only exist in your head, but that friend will always be yours.

6. That person you miss so fucking much. You aren’t on their mind. That’s the truth. There I said it, now you must come to terms with it.

7. Love is everything, but love will destroy you. So you either let it swallow you alive, or you pluck its petals until nothing is left. Sit by that bench and pretend that the clouds don’t change. Stare into the sun because the love it gives to you is just as blinding as the love you have given to them. The nasty reality seen by our eyes is never quite like the calming expectations we put into our thoughts.

8. My supervisor told me something that tore me inside. I’m still trying to figure it out. The other day, I watched her husband of 20+ years stare into her eyes like she had made the universe just for them, like she made the flowers blossom early spring just so he could be amazed by the beautiful pieces of the earth a whole week early, and like nothing in the world would go right if she just stopped existing right now, in that moment, he will have broken himself into his first cell from the womb if she did not have rights to his heart. She told me “never settle” and I think I’m starting to understand. Don’t settle for anything less than what you truly deserve. Don’t settle for someone who will leave once shit hits the fan. Don’t settle for someone who will have outgrown you because you weren’t moving anywhere. Don’t settle even if you are on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Don’t settle down. Get angry enough to figure this shit out. Live it up. If you’re an introvert, read until you meet that person. If you’re an extrovert, party until the stars numb into your eyes. If you’re an ambivert, do everything all at once and understand that your difference is exactly why you’re unique. Don’t settle for anything less than what you believe to be true.

9. For my music lovers, listen to the lyrics. Listen to it while you’re crying. Listen to it while you’re high. Listen to it while you’re sober. Listen to it while you’re numb. Listen to it while you’re whole. Listen to it while you’re bleeding inside. Listen to it when you’re fixed. Listen to it when you’re nothing. Listen to it when you’re everything. Listen to it when you’re in love. Listen to it when you’re heartbroken. Listen to it when you don’t want to listen. Listen to it when you need to listen to someone. Listen to it when you’re anxious. Listen to it when you’re brave. Listen to it when you’re lonely. Listen to it when you’re finally home. Because the truth is… Music is the way your soul moves for a reason. The lyrics will sound different every time and that’s because we’re constantly changing. Every second, you’re a different person. Every day, you’re a whole new spirit. So be free and listen to every word like you heard it for the first time. Even favorite songs can change. Even favorite people change. So listen carefully to them too because you never know when you’ll have to change the song… or the person.

10. For my writers, my poets and my young authors who strive to be better than who they were yesterday. That writer’s block is a stutter in your throat. That writer’s block is that bright 8 am sun blazing into your eyes. That writer’s block isn’t going anywhere until you start writing. That writer’s block isn’t going anywhere until you finally stu-stu-stutter your way through the whole damn sentence. That writer’s block will become the moon once you accept that it may take some time. That writer’s block will be forever if you don’t plan to be always working at it. The words may never come out right, but you won’t always be wrong. The poems may hurt because they sound awful, but remember, even great poets experience times of great stop. The books never turn out right and we have to reexamine each word like it was placed there to destroy your whole creative process. Your trash bin will stockpile with words you deem as garbage, but you never know the treasure it will be until it’s finished. You have to keep writing. Your thoughts will be exhausted. Your hands will fade from your desk. Your pens will be angry and you’ll never learn how to properly write when words don’t come as easy, but you must move on and keep at it. The writer’s block will be that lover who comes and goes, but the writer’s block is another milestone we must climb to be this writer you would like to be. Whatever it is that you’re aiming for. You must keep going. You must keep writing. And it’s okay to quit, it’s okay to stop for a second, but I believe that if the writer’s soul was embalmed into your very being. From your wrists that looks like hell from many dates with the gardens of devilish nights, from your eyes that have seen more sadness than a Shakespearean love story, and from your hands that have broken themselves upon the metal gates of who we have been versus who we are now because we have learned to be better than who we were yesterday…

If you were born a normal person and grew into a writer, if you were blessed with the gift of words and never knew anyway to express yourself but through a love letter and a pair of shaking hands, and if you loved more than you knew how to say it; look deep into your own eyes and say look, you can do this shit.

Now, write all of the words you have to say to them and read it out loud because those very words will define if you’re great or simply stupid enough to find out because some days–

Even I feel stupid. We’re human after-all.

We do these things, writers.

We keep everyone alive except for ourselves.

And we do it magnificently.

So I believe in your growth,
even if that writer’s block is there;
keep piling your thoughts into
more folders and bend those poems
into your heart and ask yourself–

How will I be alive today?

be your
for always
& forever.

—  10 thoughts spilling from my inky veins
// k.c.

anonymous asked:

Describe self love

Self love is letting your hair down. It’s washing the sheets so falling asleep feels better tonight, and taking time out to let the sun warm your skin. It’s knowing yourself, and trusting yourself, enough to let go of people who aren’t good for you, as hard as that can be. It’s lifting your own spirits when no one else knows how. You know you best. Self love can look like letting the dog sleep beside you in bed, or easing the morning stress with your favorite tea. Opening the windows or wearing something nice. Self love, in my eyes, is acting as a mother to yourself on your best and worst days. Cheering yourself on, or finding a way to make your situation more livable. It’s loving yourself as another person.

Oh my god

Every night when I go to bed, Pippin snuggles up either on my lap or next to me (bf puts them away if I fall asleep).

Tonight I was busy, and went to let them out about an hour later than usual…


I open the cage, and try to coax them out, but Pip just pokes her head out of the igloo, looks at me, and proceeds to pull the extra fleece into the entrance, blocking it off.

But, ignorant me, Im like “aw she just didnt realize its time to play,” so I gently move the barrier fleece, and call to her again. She stared me dead in the face, walked out a bit, and then grabbed the fleece and PULLED IT INTO THE ENTRANCE AGAIN, blocking herself in there.

I think I was just shunned by a rat…?