shred of the day

oh boy oh boy what fresh hell this is gonna be


Ravus:

  • didn’t used to be helpful at all, depended more on the royal medics to deal with any and all of your complaints
  • losing his arm made him appreciate the strength of will that you go through dealing with your constant pain because wow who knew painkillers didn’t always do their job????
  • having some chronic pain of his own made him aware of the shitty reality you go through day in and day out without shredding everything and everyone around you
  • the smallest gestures hurt like a bitch, the simplest bump sends hot electricity up his shoulder and neck and jaw, his whole body overheats when the metal gets warm which makes him delirious and pissy
  • how the fuck did you deal with this with a smile on your face???? HE IS LIVID AND UNCOMFORTABLE IT IS NOT FAIR THAT THERE IS NO CURE OR FUNCTIONAL PAIN MANAGEMENT
  • now when you’re pale in the face and hunched over he doesn’t run away under the pretense of work and overtime, instead he takes you into his personal quarters and sits you in his fluffy bed, and takes off any garments with pointy bits to keep from adding to your pain
  • he’s not used to all the cuddling and physical affection but he lets it happen, because now you know not to mess with his own nope zone and the human proximity actually helps the magic buzzing through his veins to settle
  • after going through a few flares with you, he helps figure out what went wrong and how to make it better for next time, and chews people off when their carelessness could have/did hurt you in any way
  • the staff members of his household and kitchens know exactly what kinds of foods and chemicals set you off and know to avoid using them
  • there’s always a tub of your favorite ice cream in his fridge and you’re given free reign over the thermostat
  • the dogs learn to annoy you when it’s time to take your medicine and don’t listen to any calming commands until you do it

Ardyn:

  • would constantly yoyo between mocking you and helping you depending on his mood 
  • he’s busy most of the week so you don’t get to see him for several days at a time, but on the weekend he always comes back to at least get a change of clothes
  • so on days where you’re already occupying his couch with your body and blankets and heating pads and pillows, he would join the pile without comment
  • he’s a difficult and complicated man, but when he wraps his arms around you and whispers his frustration about how much he missed you and actual human touch, you can’t help but hug him back and run your hands through his hair
  • you’re not sure if he’s actively healing you or if it’s just the cuddles, but you actually feel better after napping entangled in him
  • he’s a surprisingly good cook and makes the best Daggerquill and veggie soup you’ve ever had
  • sometimes he’d listen to you describe your pain with distant eyes and a guarded expression, then suggest a small insignificant thing for you to try which actually helps alleviate some of the discomfort, he would pretend it’s a coincidence but you both know that’s not true
  • other days you’d be begging him for help and he’d be checking his phone like “lmao that’s rough buddy” 
  • this man spent a thousand years being drained by a crystal that rejected him, he’s got a thing or two he can teach you about distractions and projecting
  • one day you’re allowed to come with on his excursion to The Keep, you’re impressed and grateful that they’re working on some bombastic painkillers but you don’t say anything because praising him is addressing his soft spot for you and that might make him want to compulsively sabotage the whole research just to prove that he doesn’t
  • he’s a difficult and complicated man, but he’s your difficult and complicated man

Aranea: 

  • would drop whatever job she was working to be with you
  • this lady would literally throw money (and sharp objects) at vendors to get you what you need
  • if you need hugs and cuddles she would give you that, if you need space and privacy she would hang out in the living room watching tv until you were ready for something different
  • isn’t a very good cook but knows all the best spots that serve great food, avoiding the ones that makes dishes that irritate your sore spots
  • had her fair share of bad mental health days and knows that they come hand in hand with chronic pain, she will help you through them any way she knows how
  • she’s always cheerful and supportive and bubbly but when you’re having a particularly bad day you can see the barrier of tears in her eyes at how helpless she really felt
  • her chest is the best pillow in the world and she welcomes you with open arms
  • loves cuddling and rolling around in bed and if that’s what you need then that’s the plan for today
  • good at the tough-loving thing, will convince you to do the things you have to do even if you don’t want to
  • don’t wanna bathe? too bad you smell like a wet garulessa now get up it’s time for a shower
  • can’t be arsed to get dressed? look pants are optional but at least put a shirt on so you don’t make Wedge and Biggs uncomfortable when they come in for the daily reports
  • you can be tired and ugly all you want, but when you start to feel better you have to show it, you owe it to yourself to pick up the slack and cheer up the you that’s in the mirror, so yes she will style your hair and slap moisturizer on your crustyass face
  • on the jobs she can’t ditch, she will constantly keep communication open on the phone just to make sure you’re doing alright and that the neighbors know what to do in case of an emergency
  • brings back snacks and a parrot she confiscated off some Nifillian street rogue, it only knows the words “help” and “what a nerd!”

Loqi:

  • pretends to be an emotionless big manly man with no feelings most of the time but…
  • instantly softens up when you tell him you’re descending into a hell of constant searing pain and bad emotional roller coasters
  • he’s good at keeping a straight face when things go bad on the job but when he’s with you, you’ll be faced with is his big watery eyes and the shaky concern in his voice
  • he’s a fighter, he knows nothing about medicine and pain management or what the fuck people are asking for when they say they’re gonna throw up
  • this boy has to be told what to do, ask him to bring you a heating pad and he will, tell him to get your meds from the cupboard and he can tell exactly which ones you mean, but if you expect him to figure things out on his own you’re in for a long night
  • gets frustrated when you don’t start to get better right away and drowns himself in work and training and trips to Lucis for several days at a time
  • you’re the one suffering but you understand how difficult it must be for him to see you in so much pain when there’s very little he can do to help
  • the more he comes to terms that your situation is constant and is not gonna go away, the trips overseas decrease and the training sessions consume less of his day than they did before
  • he prints out a list of things to avoid and things to have often, and hangs it on the fridge with little scribbled hearts and robot knights in the corners
  • strangely, he manages to counter balance your actions without realizing it
  • when you’re so fed up that you lash out, he will hug you and tell you that it’s gonna get better, you just have to survive today
  • when you pretend to be okay and tell him you’re used to it, he gets angry and starts ranting about how awful the astrals must be for inflicting this injustice on the people they’re supposed to protect, and how he’s glad he’s put in charge of beating the crap out of them
  • he tries to be a good person and earn his spot in your life because you both know that’s the only place he’s allowed to be his sympathetic clingy  self 
Darling, there will be days where you will think that it could never possibly get better, but it will, it does, you just have to hold on to every last shred of hope and one day you wont even remember what you were crying about.’
—  yasminedenis 

anonymous asked:

prompt? : "you need to stop"

from here

“You need to stop.”

Iwaizumi looked up from his homework and at Oikawa who was laying on his bed. “What?”

“You need to stop,” Oikawa repeated. “Take a break for a while, do whatever, just stop working.”

“Are you trying to talk to me about overworking?” Iwaizumi laughed, “Because you’re not the prime example yourself.”

“You’re stressed and you’re not gonna get anything done if you’re stressed about it,” Oikawa went on. He gestured to the small pile of torn up pieces of paper next to Iwaizumi. “You rip paper when you’re stressed. The smaller the pieces, the more stressed you are.”

Iwaizumi looked at the pile next to him. He hadn’t really consciously been tearing the corners off of his papers, but there was definitely enough to be called a pile next to him. He swiped the papers off his desk into the trash. “There, now I’m not stressed by your standards. I need to work.”

“Iwa-chan, no,” Oikawa whined. “That’s not how it works.”

“I’m gonna ignore you now. I have work to do, and you do too.”

Oikawa sighed and rolled over onto his stomach. “Ten minute break? And I won’t bother you after.”

Iwaizumi’s only response was to write something down on his paper. Oikawa got up and stood behind Iwaizumi. He wrapped his arms around him and set his chin on his head. “Five minutes?”

Iwaizumi ignored him and kept working. Oikawa tightened his arms so that Iwaizumi couldn’t move his own.

“Oi-”

“Just five minutes, then you can come back,” Oikawa murmured.

“That’s it?” Iwaizumi asked skeptically.

“Yep.”

“And you’ll let me come back to my work after,” Iwaizumi clarified.

“Absolutely,” Oikawa couldn’t keep the smile out of his voice, knowing he had won. “I won’t even bother you. Promise.”

Iwaizumi sighed and put his pencil down. “I guess five minutes wouldn’t hurt.”

Oikawa practically dragged him out of his chair and over to the bed. “Just lay down and relax. I’m gonna give you a quick massage because slouching like that for so long has to be uncomfortable.”

“Just tell me when five minutes is up,” Iwaizumi muttered, practically collapsing onto the bed. Oikawa smiled softly while he agreed. He started rubbing Iwaizumi’s shoulders, smiling even more when he could see Iwaizumi relax before him.

True to his word, five minutes later, Oikawa nudged Iwaizumi’s shoulder. “Iwa-chan, it’s been five minutes,” he called quietly. Iwaizumi rolled over to face him, eyes still closed. He wrapped his arms around Oikawa and buried his face in his chest.

Oikawa could just barely hear the words, “No it hasn’t,” muffled into his shirt.

“Iwa-chan, we said five minutes,” Oikawa said.

“I’ll let you know when it’s actually been five minutes,” Iwaizumi grumbled. He gripped on tighter and Oikawa smiled. He brought up a hand and started running his fingers through Iwaizumi’s hair. It took even less than five minutes for Oikawa to hear Iwaizumi’s breathing even out as he fell asleep.

The morning after her father died, the first thing Laura saw upon waking was Bobby, curled up around his Wolverine doll–the one that he’d carried out of the lab, through a sewer, bundled into the fake bottom of a crate in the back of a truck, up the 5, across the deserts of Utah, the Rockies, and the long flat north that came after. He had carried it through these woods, through this fight and this flight, and there he was sleeping, pudgy hands curled close around it.

Laura had read the comics Gabriela and the other nurses had brought in for them. They had been assigned to learn how to read briefs, maps, instruments, but Gabriela had brought Laura comics about heroes.

In the lab, they had taught Delilah how to drag poison from green veins, how to find the sharpest edge at her beck and call, to strangle. The day before, Delilah had shredded the life out of men with a screaming rain of pine needles. She had wrapped long grasses around Rhodes’s ugly bolo tie and dragged him down and down. But that next day, that dawning day, Laura woke up to see Delilah calling small yellow apples down from a tree blooming out of season.

It had been a story in a comic book, Eden. It had been fiction, a fantasy, a dream, a random set of coordinates. Logan had suspected they would find nothing when they got there. He had been sure.

Sometimes promises are fiction. Sometimes they’re written on the backs of twice-folded photographs. Sometimes the nurse with the steadiest hands whispers to you in the middle of the night come with me child, wake up child, curl up in this duffel bag, stay quiet child, believe me child, we’re going, we’re going, I’ll get you somewhere safe.

Laura had curled up in that fabric-walled darkness, clutching her backpack to her chest. She had her ball, the paperwork that was her life writ out, two battered comic books. A photograph with a list of whispered names. They were not supposed to have names any more than they were supposed to have birthdays or comic books or childhoods.

Kind hands were waiting for them at the end of this journey. There was refuge. There were new names, visas and school where no one should bleed for anything except loose teeth and ignored blisters.

Logan had scoffed, and Laura hadn’t listened. She had said her friends’ names over and over. He had pointed to coordinates in a comic book, and she had said her family’s names over and over. She knew, the way Logan never did, the way Logan never would, that some days stories save you. Sometimes a nurse calls you child instead of by number, and gives you flimsy precious pages to read in the dark.

They knew the comic books were comic books. Laura knew, before she ever met Logan and his smelly, hopeless self, that the X-Men were no gods among men. Flimsy pages—she understood flimsy. She understood the way things tore–pages, clothing, skin and ligaments.

But sometimes you can make the story real. “Eden,” they said. They pressed the coordinates hand to hand, whisper to whisper, and they ran. They promised each other, and they found each other there, at coordinates that had been nothing until they made them a waystation, a place to rest. A watchtower.

Laura had carried so little out of that lab. She had the metal that lined her bones. She had her family’s names. She had a set of coordinates in a battered old comic, and she would carry that forever. It wasn’t real, but she was. It wasn’t real, that Eden, that haven, but she had been there.

She had run shrieking into Rictor’s arms. She had cried on Bobby and danced around the hard cracked dirt with him, each swinging the other in wide circles. Logan had slept safe there for the last time. She would carry it forever. Fading, flimsy pages. A tired man with a funny beard.

They would go next over shallow valleys and dry rocky peaks. Delilah would hunt down a deer in the woods, walking silent on fallen leaves and little sprouts, calling death down green and blooming. Rebecca would cook it up over the fire Bobby raised from sparks, and Laura would lie on her back with her hands on her full rounded belly and pretend she was a lion. When they came down from the mountains, the wide low fields would roll out below them for miles. There would be so much sky.

But for now, in this morning, this dawning day–there was a little boy in a wood, who was the safest he’d ever been. There was a little boy in a wood, with a yellow Wolverine doll held to his chest and Laura sat there in the waking light, watching him breathe.

2

CINDERELLA TWO WEEK SHRED 

So this is a little resource I made for myself to keep myself accountable for my goals over the next two weeks, and since sharing is caring, I thought id share it with you lovely people and maybe even some of you will join me! 

Ive posted above a ‘decorated’ version (Using pictures from pinterest & tumblr, if your image is used here let me know and I will be happy to credit you!) Which has pictures that inspire me all over it. This isn’t just about health & fitness this is about all over lifestyle. There are things featured on this list such as brushing teeth and eating breakfast that are normal self-care things that can sometimes be missed in the busy-ness of day to day life. 

The idea of this is to help you (well, me!) develop healthier habits that can be put in place in the long-term. Im probably gonna continue using this for longer than the stated two weeks but thats when my birthday celebrations start so! 

Let me know if you start using it and i wanna see what you guys do! 

Just a note too, where it says gym/workout/swim 4x that means 4x per week not day! 

I promise I will tell you
everything
to know me.

Like keeping a lover’s shirt
having their scent, left behind.
I am hard to forget.

That is what I tell my insecurities
when I cannot picture another day,
the stars look shredded
and the rain keeps hurdling down
I might as well drown.

No.

Because I am not selfish
and will forgive the world,
for squeezing me so tightly,
for bruising me constantly
that my body will forever feel
broken,
in the arms of my father
who has told me, I am just like my mother
that she was once strong
but how can I be strong when the only thing
making me weak is myself?

I find comfort in emptiness.

Days,
I am not obligated to feel anything
like weather - self destructive.

There is beauty in disaster,
watching things
crumble
knowing they can be restored.

—  self portrait with a bottle of peach andré
Okay guys time to be honest

The past few weeks I’ve been feeling very low, depressed and lonely.

I’m constantly either out studying, at placment or stuck in my bedroom 😞

Now I know I said I would complete the 30 day shred, but I have instead decided to rejoin the gym as it gets me out the house and forces me to be a bit more social.

My first time back is tonight, wish me luck 😚

12.30.16 | 12:42 AM

I finally ornagized the workout regime for the Jillian Michaels 30 Day Shred into my little journal so that I can do the workout to my own music instead of following her video anytime. 30 minutes, for 30 days, let’s go! (for the sake of my mental and physical health which have been going downhill for a while) I hope I can commit to this one. Hope you’re all well and going into the new year with a lot of things you’re proud of, and with less regrets ♡
Pete| Lingerie |Dunne

Title; Lingerie

Pairing; Pete Dunne/Reader

Words; 2669

Summary; The way you’re wrapping around me is a problem.

Warnings; NSFW. Smut. Public sex. Lingerie. Latex free. Choking. Smut for smut’s sake. liiiggghhhtttt dom/sub.

A/N: Loosely based off of THIS imagine. Smut on Easter… I’m a terrible Catholic. Still trying to recoop what was lost in the Great Sam Is Bad At Computers Meltdown of 2K17.

@alexablss  @laochbaineann  @bettergetusetoit
@fuckyeahbulletclub  @covergirlcollarbones  @thedeboniardevistation @amaranthine-reign  @leelakoiwolff @crookedmoonsaultpunk
@princess3733 @britishscoundrel
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@sorleino   @sweet-and-stormy
@imaginingwwesuperstars  @wrasslin-x @iloveenzoamore@crossfitjesusinskinnyjeans@tomsbookitten  @sarahmatthews7
@littledeadrottinghood   @wwelife0014
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@screamersdontdance  @wwe-smutfics
@alexahood21  @tmsixone   @daintymissdevitt
@mistressbalor @nickysmum1909  
@wwewritings   @mgswdw  @finnbaelorxx
@shadow-of-wonder @valeonmars
@neeadinghugs @squirrel666 @jenn0755  @actualamyautopsy @roserae527 @ladylillianrose  @panicattheambrose
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@blondekel77  @skrillexslays13  @lisa-likes-wrasslin  @danikajessyfandoms  @charismatickilljoy
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@eleonora-dsb  @somewhere-in-ambrose-asylum
@little–alphabet–boy @chloebowiee   @shieldgirl95

Originally posted by pinknights

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2

30 day shred day 1

Let’s do this motherfucker 💪💪

I have decided I will complete the whole 30 days in a row. I WILL NOT MISS A DAY !!!

This will take me right up to the day I leave for my weekend away in London.

Hoping for some results. I know it’s only 30 days so I’m not expecting miracles. But even something noticeable.

Time to get rid of that belly pouch

Innocent

Request: Maybe a fic where Negan finds the reader (or a short girl with curly hair named Miranda? pretty pls) from “before” in Alexandria (not a community member, a traveler who convinced the guard to let her in). She was like, his cute little teenage neighbor who had a huge thing for him that he ignored bc she was only 16. But now she’s legal and less shy and just a smidge flirtatious. Like she says things that are borderline innuendos and pick up lines. And keeps joking about daddy issues. - Anon

Pairings: Negan x Miranda (OC)

Warnings: language. smut. (oops I did it again)


Age 16

Running a hand through your long and curly hair, you let out a loud and guttural sigh. Tracing the outline of your current drawing over again, you glanced up from your sketch pad. Your street was calm as you swayed back and forth in your hammock chair on your front porch. The late afternoon air was crisp, and you smiled as you heard a few birds whistle beautiful tunes. Checking the time, you sighed and leaned back as to let the chair swallow you whole.

Your dad never came home this morning, and you had a pretty good idea why. He had been shacking up with some woman almost every night of the week, and would go out drinking without as much as a goodbye. Ever since your mother walked out on you, your dad had completely changed. With no siblings to care for or spend time with, you were left utterly alone for the majority of your time. You had grown accustomed to it, however.

Keep reading

Inconclusive

“Hi! Can you write one where you and Jax recently broke up and one day you see Jax taking Ima to his dorm at a club party and you go home and later try to move on from him, but Jax finds out then gets jealous and tries to win you back? I’m sorry if it’s too long. It’s okay if you don’t want to write it! Thank you!”

“This is a bad idea, Chibs.” you warn, pulling at your black lace crop top, a pair of leather shorts showing off your shapely legs. Chibs takes a final drag from his cigarette, dropping it on the floor and putting it out with his boot.

“He misses you, lass, and I can tell you miss him.” You can’t deny his words, these past two weeks being the hardest ones of your life. “You look amazing, sweetheart. If he doesn’t take you home, I sure will.”

Smiling, you gently bump your shoulder with the Scot’s, thanking him silently. “Alright, I’ll take your word for it.”

“Thatta’ girl. Come on, let’s get you a drink.” Chibs throws his arm around your shoulders, leading you up the lot and into the clubhouse, party in full swing. You smile at the croweaters that catch your eye on the way in, them returning the smile and waving kindly at you.

While Chibs gets you and him a drink, you scan the room, not sure how to feel when you don’t spot your ex boyfriend. Tig grins when he sees you, pushing the lady off his lap and walking over to you, throwing his arms around you. “If it isn’t my favourite girl.”

“Hi, Tiggy. Sorry I haven’t been around, everything is a bit of a mess right now.” you explain, his eyes slightly glassy as he watches you, the smell of whisky lingering heavily on him. You’ve always gotten on well with the other MC members, the older ones and younger ones all treating you like family.

“Don’t sweat it, doll, just glad to see you.” He places a sloppy kiss on your cheek, before going back to his woman of the night, sadness covering you as you realise how much you miss this club. The atmosphere, the people, the family. You knew that if you didn’t get this shit sorted with Jax, you’d probably never have it again.

“Here ya are, love. Get that down ya.” You take the beer from Chibs, taking a few swigs, the cold liquid fizzy as it passes down your throat.

You’re listening to Chibs flirt with some croweater when your gaze is pulled to the other side of the room, Jax entering from the apartments. It’s always been the same with him, a magnetic pull that somehow tells you when he’s around. It’s surreal, but he must feel it too, his eyes instantly breathing you in, surprise evident on his face.

You just stare at him, not knowing how he’s going to react. Is he going to be pissed that you’re here? Glad that you’ve come back for him? Upset?

Your questions are quickly answered, Ima surfacing from the same place Jax did, her hands pulling at her shirt, that famous fucking smirk on her face.

Her arms slip around his waist, him being pulled out of his trance. She leans up, whispering into his ear, his eyes remaining on you the whole time. Your heart feels like it’s literally breaking, regret written all over your ex lovers face as you crumble in front of him. He doesn’t correct it though, letting Ima pull his face to hers, her lips claiming his in a messy fashion.

“I think I’m gonna be sick.” you whisper, slamming your half drunken beer on the bar and storming out, leaving a very confused Chibs by himself. He looks across the room as you leave, noticing the very reason for your upset. Shaking his head at his younger brother, he turns his back on him, letting him know just how he feels without even saying a word.

It’s been three months since that dreaded day. The day you lost the last shred of hope you had left for your broken relationship, for the broken man you left behind.

“You ready to go, babe?” Liam calls, his voice travelling up the stairs. You had to move on, you deserve to at least try to be happy, even if deep down you know you’re aiming for a unreachable goal.

“Two minutes!” you respond, throwing your phone and lipstick into your bag. You’d met Liam about two months ago, a sweet boy who asked for your number at your work place. You said yes, met up for lunch one day and hit it off, and you’d been dating ever since. Things were pretty serious between the two of you, but throwing yourself in the deep end seems like the quickest way to get rid of the outlaw biker who refuses leave your mind.

Leaving the bedroom, you jog down the stairs, meeting your boyfriend at the bottom. You were about to go to meet some of Liam’s friends, the four of you going on a double date to the new diner in town. If someone would’ve told you a few months back that you’d be going on double dates and spending time with a completely different set of people, you never would’ve believed it.

“I’m just gonna fill up before we go get Tyler and Abby.” Liam turns into the gas station, pulling up at an available pump and stepping out to fill up the car. “You okay to go pay?”

You nod, grabbing the bills from Liam’s hand and undoing your seat belt, heading inside the store. Once you’ve paid for the fuel, you turn around, slamming straight into a hard chest.

“Sorry, love-” You look up, smiling shyly at the man, shock on his face once he realises who you are. “Jesus, (Y/N). If this isn’t fate, I don’t know what is.”

“It’s nice to see you too, Chibby.” You reply, letting the Scots man wrap you up in his arms, the familiar feeling making your heart clench. You pull back, your common sense kicking in. “Wait, is he with you?”

Before he can reply, the bell above the shop door signaling that someone has just walked in. You hear his voice before you see his face, a thousand and one emotions running through you. “Tig just called, he’s just been to-”

Jax finally reaches the two of you, his voice dying in his throat as he sees who his brother is standing with. His mouth opens and shuts as he stares at you, completely caught off guard.

“Hey, Jax.” you say calmly, hoping that if you act like you’re unaffected, it’ll convince the two men in front of you, even if you can’t convince yourself. “It’s good to see you.”

“Yeah, it’s good to see you too.” He smiles at you, your knees just as weak as they were the day you first caught a glimpse of that smile, the smile that could bring you so much light, even on your darkest of days.

“You alright, (Y/N)?” You scold yourself for forgetting about your company, your boyfriend now making his way over to the three of you in concern. Once he reaches you, he stands by your side, slipping his arm around your waist, claiming his property like some kind of animal.

“Yeah, I’m good.” you respond, part of you wanting to rip Liam’s arm from around you, the expression on Jax’s face one of defeat, heartbreak. The same look you wore just months ago. “Pass my love on to everyone. See you around.”

You leave too quickly to receive a response, your partner trailing behind you, your mental state not feeling up to answering the pile of questions you’re bound to be asked once you get in the car.

You look back at the lost biker in the store, his eyes locked on yours as he watches you walk away from him, again. Only this time, he knows he has to bring you back to him, no matter what it takes.

You sigh in content as you sink into the bubbles, music playing lowly in the background as you take a well earned bath.

Today has been a long day, or at least it feels like it has. After bumping into pieces of your past life, the life you were trying to move on from, you had to deal with a relentless Liam, who wanted to know what your connection was to the murderous bikers in town. This then led to the two of you having a full blown argument. You’d jumped out of the car about thirty minutes out of town and refused to get back in, walking all the way back home.

You massage your temples as you soak, silently begging for your head to stop pounding, the pain making you feel physically sick. All you wanted was five minutes of peace from your overactive brain.

You feel like screaming when you hear the door knock loudly from downstairs, closing your eyes and deciding to ignore whatever company had decided to bother you.

After about fifteen seconds, you hear another series of knocks, more urgent this time. Cursing under your breath, you pull yourself out of the soapy water, quickly wrapping a towel around your body and heading downstairs, ready to release your wrath on whoever was behind the door.

Yanking it open, you see the last person you expect to be at your house. “Jax?”

He moves his sights up and down your body, you wishing you would’ve grabbed your dressing gown rather than a towel that barely reaches midthigh. Once he meets you eyes, you raise your eyebrows in question. “Is everything okay?”

“No, it’s not.” he sighs, running his fingers through his undone locks. “Can I come in? Just give me five minutes. Please.”

Going against your better judgement, you hesitate, pulling the door open widely and letting him step inside. He smiles thankfully at you, a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, before he walks inside.

“What are you doing here, Jackson?” you ask stiffly, wanting the man in front of you to know that you’re not going to take any shit. You’re not the same woman you were three months ago, and he can’t just turn up at your place and expect everything to be okay.

“I miss you, (Y/N).” he confesses, your eyes going as big as saucers as you debate whether you even heard him right. “I made the biggest mistake of my life letting you go, and watching you walk away from me today-”

“Are you serious right now?” You watch as he swallow nervously, enjoying his discomfort. He looks down at the floor, sighing and shrugging his shoulders, like he knew that this was how you’d react.

“You didn’t seem to have a problem with me walking away from you when you told me I wasn’t strong enough for this life.“ you spit, all your pent up anger slowly making its way to the surface. “Didn’t care the second time when you humiliated me in front of the club by fucking that whore!”

“Babe, please just let me-” He knows better than to try and make some bullshit excuse, his sentence stopping once he sees the rage on your face.

“It wasn’t me walking away that got to you yesterday,” you seethe, “it was the fact that I’ve moved on. Found somebody beyond the one and only Jax Teller.”

He stand silent, his eyes heavy with unshed tears as you unload the pain and suffering you’ve had to hold in. You shake your head at him in disbelief, chuckling humourlessly. “You let me go, Jax. You broke my heart, and that’s all on you.”

Silent years slip down your cheeks as you hold your towel close to your chest, the fluffy material moving between your fingers and acting as some sort of security blanket, stopping you from completely falling apart.

“I know I don’t deserve you, (Y/N). I know it, hell, everybody knows it.” he says timidly, breaking the tense silence. He sniffs as you look at the floor, your tears falling as you refuse to meet his gaze. “But you’re the only girl I’ve ever loved, the only girl I will ever love, and I hope that means something to you.”

Your bottom lip quivers as you try to hold in your sobs, the ache in his words chipping at your ice cold exterior, bit by bit. His white trainers step into your view, his figure so close you can smell his intoxicating scent. Just one whiff of him makes you want to forget everything and throw yourself in his arms. But that would be naive.

“I pushed you away, because I don’t want to see you end up like everybody else I love. Broken or dead.” He grabs your face in his large, rough hands, the image of him blurry as you try to blink away your tears, clear your view. “But without you, I see no end to this, (Y/N), no reason to carry on, to fight.”

His thumbs gently caress your skin, your body feeling more alive than it has in months. “I know it’s selfish, I’m a selfish man, but you’re the only thing that I’m certain about in this world.”

You feel like the air has been released back into your lungs when he locks his lips with yours, his hands fiercely cradling your face as you come alive under his touch. You’ve never felt something so passionate, so raw , in your life, his tongue slipping past your lips and exploring the place he hasn’t been allowed to go for months.

You’re both breathless as he pulls away, your heart begging you to join your lips back with his and never break apart. He presses his mouth against your forehead lovingly, one of your favourite things that he does, before he begrudgingly let’s you go, moving towards your front door.

“I’ll always love you, (Y/N). You know where to find me if you feel the same.”

Originally posted by geezerwench

A/N - Decided to end this on a bit of a cliff hanger/make up your own ending?! Thought it’d let you guys make your own interpretations individually :) hope you liked!! Xx

A Word to Describe You -Preference-

Originally posted by netflixruinedmylifeimagines


Dean

Dean couldn’t stop grinning. Normally Dean was annoyed when Bobby chose him for gun cleaning duty but he had been more than happy to help when you had been assigned the task. You were both sitting out in the salvage yard. Dean watched as you sang along with the radio, cleaning the pistols and rifles expertly without a second thought. It was supposed to be raining today but there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. It seemed like no matter what the sun was always shining when you were around. In general, Dean found that everything was always better when you were around. It didn’t matter if it was a hunt, a road trip, or a food run. You just always made everything better. Dean thought you were far better than anything he could ever hope to deserve and he was still confused everyday as to why you had chosen him. He was grateful for whatever it was. It meant that he was able to enjoy moments like this. You looked up at him and gave Dean the smile that was reserved for him. A smile so genuine it physically hurt Dean to look at it. He smiled back, or really just looked back because he hadn’t stopped smiling since he’d returned home to you yesterday. You laughed and went back to work. Dean continued to stare, mesmerized. You were everything he never thought he’d ever get to have. You were happiness.

Sam

Sam shouldn’t be alive. The hunt had took a bad turn and he should be dead. But you were there. Somehow you were in the right place at the right time and Sam was alive. Ever since Sam had met you things always seemed to happen that way. The motel just happened to have one room left and it just happened to be half price. Dean managed to choose the right boxes on his scratch offs to win $500 everytime. The fleeing monster would accidently take a wrong turn that led to a dead end. Nothing bad could happen when you were around. It became statistically impossible. Sam was brought out of his thoughts when you came and sat across his lap. You wrapped your arms around him and tucked your head into his neck and closed your eyes. Before long you had drifted off to sleep. He kissed your forehead and smiled. Because of you he was the luckiest man on earth, in every way imaginable. He grabbed the remote and turned on the TV to find them showing his favorite movie. He laughed to himself. You really were his lady luck.

Castiel

Cas kept watch as you slept. You both had just finished a hunt that left you exhausted. After you showered you had kissed Cas goodnight and immediately thrown yourself on the lumpy motel bed. You were asleep within seconds. It always surprised Cas how quickly you could fall asleep. Everything about you surprised Cas, really. He couldn’t believe that someone who had been through what you had could manage to stay such a good person. The evidence of your hardships lay all across your sleeping form. You were covered in scars, some old and some fresh. You had bruises all along your knuckles and a few on your ribs. Your bones had been broken numerous times and Cas lost track of how many broken noses he had to heal for you. You’d been to Hell, fought in heaven and ran through purgatory, like the honorary Winchester that you were. You’d seen the worst of humanity, monsters, and heavenly beings (including Castiel himself). Yet somehow through all of that you somehow managed to remain optimistic and happy. You laughed at Dean’s dumb jokes and Sam’s stupid pranks. You tried to see the good in everyone even when there wasn’t a shred of decency in them. No matter what, each day you woke with a smile and told Cas you how much you loved him every night. You rolled over in your sleep and felt around on the bed. When you found his hand you gripped it tight and sighed. Your breathing evened back out and you were fast asleep again. Castiel smiled. You truly were fascinating.

Bonus: Bobby

There was only one thing Bobby could think of to describe you. Trouble. If you weren’t off in some corner making out with Dean you were distracting Sam from his research and work. If Cas was around you ignored all the work Bobby needed you to do to watch cartoons with him instead. You ate all his food, used all his ammo, and refused to help with the dishes. Sure, you helped stop a couple of apocalypses but what did that matter when he couldn’t walk 2 feet in his own house without tripping on one of your bloodied flannels? He could hear you and Dean giggling upstairs. They’re supposed to be translating rituals he thought. Seconds later something hit the ground and shattered. “That wasn’t me!” you called out. Bobby sighed but couldn’t keep from laughing. What was he gonna do with you?