stop blinking

Reaper: Chapter Two

His hand was warm.

Isa pulled me to my feet. “Just a second,” he said, scanning the area.

I didn’t feel dead. I could feel the wind on my skin and my heart hammering in my chest. My hands were trembling with adrenaline. That had to be a good sign.

“Kat,” Isa said, startling me. I had been staring at my hands so intently that I hadn’t noticed he was holding out his hand to me again.

“I’m not dead,” I informed him a bit giddily, taking his hand again.

Isa didn’t smile, but the corners of his eyes crinkled. “This way,” he said, pointing with his free hand. I looked, but he seemed to be pointing towards thin air.

He led me away from the broken highway and my silver car, wading through the faded brown grass. After about twenty yards he stopped and turned to me.

“I need you to think of a place,” he said, “Any place.”

My mind went blank. “Any place?”

“Anywhere. Visualize it in your mind. Got it?” I hesitated before nodding. “Good. Now we’re going to take one more step together.”

I looked at the grass before us. It didn’t look any different from any other patch of grass we’d passed. I drew a deep breath.

“Okay.”

“And go.”

As we stepped forward together, the air went…soft. Like a deep, thick mattress. Like holding an overripe peach in your hands and slowly pressing in your thumbs, letting them sink into it. Not hot or cold or anything like that. Just soft.

Less than a moment passed before the softness was gone; I didn’t even have time to blink. We were still standing in the grass by the highway. I could see my car close by and the mountains looming in the distance. But the edges of the mountains were vague and unclear, and the light that filtered through the clouds was tinted red, almost as though it was shining through rose-colored glass. More telling was the quiet. The wind had disappeared, and the grass was silent and still.

“You know,” Isa commented, “I think people usually choose somewhere other than the place they’re currently standing.”

“I panicked,” I responded, taking in everything around me, “Which seems to be my basic state of existence at this point.”

Unlike everything else, Isa seemed more real than ever. The basics were still the same: pale, ashy skin stretched tight over his body, white hair, and jet black eyes set deep in their sockets. His fingers and limbs were overly long for his body, and he was wearing a black hooded coat with loose sleeves, grey pants, boots, and a t-shirt with a vintage ad for spam.

However, his skin lacked the translucent quality it usually had, and his shadow -

“You have a shadow,” I blurted out, “You have a - the grass. You’re actually crushing down the grass.” I knelt down and confirmed for myself that yes, the grass could be pressed down, and then I turned around and thrust out my hand. The softness was waiting just feet behind me. “Where are we?”

“This is an inbetween place,” he replied, watching as I shuffled a few feet to the side and stuck out my hand again, “We needed somewhere safe to talk.”

I pulled my hand from the softness and tried again. “And the deserted highway wasn’t cutting it?”

Isa pressed his lips together. “It’s not humans that I’m worried about overhearing us.”

I paused mid thrust. “Oh.” The fear which had almost been forgotten in my wonder flared up.

“Here,” Isa said, and he took my hand again, leading me around whatever invisible portal we had passed through. Almost mindlessly I walked towards the car.

“Are we safe here, then?”

He shrugged. “Should be. I don’t think I was followed - there’s no good reason anyone would, really, I’m not a major player. But it’s not wise to talk about these things in the open on principle.”

We reached the car, and I stretched out my hand to touch it. It was solid under my fingers, but the numbers on the license plate were scrambled, changing every time I blinked. 

Isa stopped me as I went to open the driver’s side door.

"I just wanted to see if it would start,” I said.

Isa shook his head. “It might, but it’s not wise to go through any doors here. There’s no telling where you might end up.”

A little disappointed, I perched on the trunk instead, pulling up my legs and wrapping my arms around them. Isa stood before me, hands shoved in his pockets.

“So…” I started, Isa looking at me expectantly, “Are you an angel?”

Isa burst out laughing. It was an odd sound, out of place in the unnatural silence of the inbetween.

“No, and I wouldn’t let an angel hear you say that if I were you. Actually, it would probably be fine; most angels I’ve met are quite nice. But trust me, if you ever meet an angel, you’ll know it. People tend to fall over when they show up.”

“Okay, not an angel.” There went half the theories I’d ever read. “Then what are you? And don’t say a reaper.”

“I never really liked that name anyway,” he replied. He kicked the ground for a moment, thinking. “I’m the guardian of your soul. I’ve been with you since your soul first joined your body. I will ensure no one touches it until your life is complete.”

“…And when my life is complete?”

“I take your soul,” he answered nonchalantly, “ - Kat?”

I rolled off the car, running into the field, running towards the softness.

Maybe he wasn’t an angel after all. But there were other theories about the reapers.

“Kat?” he called after me, “I’m not taking your soul here and now.”

I stumbled to a stop in a panic. The grass all looked the same. Whatever gateway we’d walked through wasn’t marked by any kind of visual cue. I was effectively trapped.

“Maybe you’re not taking it now,” I said as I turned, arms tight by my sides, hands clenched, “but you’re going to.”

Isa walked towards me slowly, “That probably wasn’t the best way for me to phrase that.” I shrank away from him instinctively, and he sighed. “This would be easier if I was an angel. They’re good at explaining things. Can I try again?”

He waited until I nodded hesitantly.

“I’m the guardian of your soul. I was bound to you the moment your soul entered your body. While you live, I’ll protect your soul from harm. When your days are complete, I’ll carry your soul to its rest. I’m not going to kill you, consume your soul, drain your life force, steal your corporeal form,  keep you in a tortured disembodied state devoid of all sensation, or anything else of that kind.”

I stared at him. “That’s…really specific.”

“But you’re not running this time,” Isa noted.

“If you’re lying, I’m screwed anyway,” I retorted.

“Ah.” Isa’s body seemed to droop ever so slightly. “I liked it better when you just trusted me.”

“And I liked it better when I wasn’t afraid I was going crazy,” I snapped. I shut my eyes and paused, willing myself to breath deeply. “I’m tired. I’m stressed and exhausted and I have no clue what’s going on. You disappeared for two weeks and I didn’t even know reapers could do that, and now you’re talking and you touched me and I’m somehow not dead and we’re in a freaking alternate dimension or something and it’s just a bit much.”

“I didn’t intend to let things get this out of hand,” Isa admitted, “I only thought I’d be gone for a few hours at most.”

Finally, the question that had been burning in my chest for weeks. “What happened? Why did you leave?”

“There was a reaper who needed help. He and his human were being targeted, and they weren’t going to make it.”

“Are they okay?”

His face brightened a bit. “They are. The woman died and he was able to deliver her soul safely.”

“Your definition of a happy ending and mine are a little different,” I muttered, “What did they need protection from?”

Isa looked grim. “There are many beings who would want to misuse a human soul,” he said softly, “And there are others who would like nothing more than to see a reaper give into the temptation to take advantage of their charge. Some of these were attacking this reaper in the hope of either claiming the soul for themselves or, if nothing else, forcing the reaper into a position where he drew on the soul for power. I thought they’d back off once I came to his aid, but they fought until the end.”

Behind Isa’s shoulder, I saw something like a dark smudge on the horizon where the mountains met the sky. A horrible sense of wrongness settled in my gut.

“I didn’t mean to leave you for so long,” he continued, “And it shouldn’t -”

“Isa,” I interrupted, pointing urgently, “There’s something here.”

Isa turned to look. The smudge was getting larger. “No,” he said, “No no no no!” He grabbed my hand.

“We need to move now!” He took off across the field, dragging me behind him. We passed through the softness and the world shifted, the rosy light turning grey. We sprinted back to my car.

I looked back towards the mountains. I couldn’t see anything.

“Get in the car,” Isa ordered, and I hurried to do so. After buckling myself in, I looked up to see Isa pull out a gun.

“Drive home as fast as you can,” he said, ignoring my shock, “And don’t stop until I say so.” With that, he swung himself onto the roof of my car.

I turned on the car and made a U-turn, pressing the pedal to the floor. A minute later gun shots rang out, and I looked into the mirror to see something burst through the portal and hurtle down the broken highway in pursuit.

TFC HC

Okay so remember that one scene, I think it was in TKM, where Neil can’t open a wrapper (probably a healthy energy bar or something idk) and Andrew just takes it out of his hands and opens it for him.

Right, so I was thinking about that and then my mind wandered way off track but here goes:

-       Matt and Dan have a bunch of kids in the future right

-       In this hc Andreil don’t have any kids because reasons

-       And Matt and Dan decide to adopt a kid because they are awesome and would totally do that

-       And Andrew knows that they’re nice people and they wouldn’t be shitty parents but he’s been in foster care, he knows that people treat their own kids better than their foster/adopted children

-       So every time there’s a group thing or whatever and they bring all their kids he watches out for the adopted kid, just to make sure

-       And maybe one time he sees the kid struggling to open something and Matt and Dan aren’t in eyesight

-       And he’s become sort of protective of this small human

-       Not that he would ever admit that

-       So he snatches the thing off the kid and opens it for them without really thinking about it

-       The next time the kid needs help they go straight to Andrew and he helps them because as much as he hates people and the world he’s not going to be a total dick to children because he gets it

-       Andrew is the closest to the children’s height and he doesn’t come off as threatening because kids are wild okay

-       So eventually the kid starts bringing the other kids to Andrew for help

-       And it just becomes A Thing TM

-       Just imagine Andrew standing there (probably threatening some guy) and this tiny child comes over and holds up a juice box or something and without even blinking (or stopping his threat) Andrew reaches over and opens it and gives it back and this kid just smiles and wanders off

-       And of course everyone is like, WTF?

-       Neil’s standing there smiling because he isn’t surprised in the least

Helplessness is watching a person you care deeply for deteriorate right before your eyes without having the means to help them.

Desperation is shouting for hours and hours at the top of your lungs for help until your voice is raw and throbbing.

Defeat is knowing that there’s nothing you can do. You’re stuck and forced to live day after day in a small, cold cell. Whatever hope of help coming is replaced with a numbness, a slow realization that this is how your life will end.

“Stop…. Pouting….”

Keith blinks back into reality at Lance’s weak, raspy voice. The latter is using his lap as a pillow, and Keith glances down to meet the brunet’s eyes.

“I’m not.” Keith answers, and despite Lance’s ashen face colored only with a deep flush across his cheeks, the brunet’s face lights up as a breathy laugh escapes.

“You literally… pouted when you… said that.”

On instinct, Keith moves to purse his lips out into a pout, but he catches himself and breathes out a low sigh instead.

He tilts his head back up to stare at the stone ceiling. How many days has it been now? Twelve, maybe? He lost track after Lance stopped eating, too worried to care about anything else but the brunet.

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anonymous asked:

Some human bodily functions weird/creep Black Hat the fuck out. Sure he's a monster beyond human comprehension, but fuck humans are weird man.

  • “so let me get this straight. You pay a person to drill holes into your teeth once a year, so he can say you’re healthy?” “Boss, most employers offer dental insurance–” “I KNOW! I just don’t see why it’s necessary?? Your teeth would be stronger without holes, right?”
  • “You soak in dirt water every day?” “It’s called a bath, boss. It’s really relaxing, you should try–” “GROSS NO.”
  • “Wow this candy tastes disgusting.” “That’s Dementia’s lipstick.” “So?” “You don’t. You don’t eat it, sir….”
  • “You mean your body just, shuts down?? Every night??” “And eventually, we shut down forever!” “So sleep is just… practice death?” “I, I guess?”
  • “Why are you always flirting with me.” “Flirting??” “THAT! That whole eye-closey thing! Stop it!” “….that’s blinking, sir.”
  • “Okay, no, you said crying meant sadness!” “It can be anger too. Or fear. Or happiness.” “….what the fuck
  • “Stop making so many noises!!” “…You mean, breathing?” “Ugh. So obnoxious.”
  • “WHAT DO YOU MEAN THAT’S WHAT A BATHROOM IS FOR”
One Track Mind
  • *221B*
  • Sherlock: *working*
  • John: *sitting in his chair, tapping his leg; bored*
  • Rosamund: *colouring; looks up* What's wrong, Daddy?
  • John: *raises an eyebrow* Have you noticed lately...your Uncle manages to make every conversation about your Aunt?
  • Rosamund: *giggles* Really?
  • John: *nods* Watch *clears his throat; leans around his chair* hey, Sherlock? What time is that client due?
  • Sherlock: *still looking through the microscope* Four thirty. Half an hour before my wife's shift ends.
  • John: *gestures*
  • Rosamund: *happily* Ooh, lemme try *excited* Uncle Sherlock, on the way home from school, I saw a squirrel and- and it runned up a tree!
  • Sherlock: *looks up; smiles* That's nice.
  • Rosamund: ...
  • Sherlock: ...
  • Sherlock: *softly* Molly likes to feed the squirrels. We go to the park especially *goes back to work*
  • Rosmund: *grins at her dad* That's love, bitch.
  • John: ...
  • Rosamund: *goes back to colouring*

I really, really want Class 1-A to do a blanket fort.

Perhaps it starts just because someone dragged too many cozy blankets into the living room. Perhaps it starts because two or more of the children couldn’t sleep and huddled together for comfort. Or perhaps none of them could sleep because of nightmares, a thunderstorm, or after watching a horror movie.

One way or the other, they end up in the living room, tons of blankets, pillows and stuffed animals strewn out between them, and it doesn’t take too long for someone to come up with the idea of a blanket fort.

The more enthusiastic kids like Mina, Kirishima; Kaminari and Tooru are the ones to start building and hiding. Bakugou joins in because, heck, those idiots don’t even know how to build a fort, he can do that so much better. Uraraka is all for it and drags Izuku and Iida with her. Shouto joins, liking the thought of a warm, cozy nest to sleep in. Tokoyami wouldn’t confess it, but it’s exactly the same train of thought that bring him under the blankets, too.

Kouda is completely content with sitting in the middle of the fort, his rabbit securely on his lap and a stuffed animal next to him while the others build a rather impressive fort around him.

When Toshinori walks into the living room, on his way to the kitchen, he almost stumbles into the fort that takes up most of the living room space. He freezes mid-motion as everyone calls out Watch out!

“Now, what’s all of this?” He asks, baffled as he takes in the walls of blankets and pillows, covered with a big blanket for a ceiling.

“It’s our fort!” Mina’s head pops up between a few pillows, expression shining with excitement.

“Ah, yes. Of course. It’s rather impressive,” the fort shields everyone rather well from his gaze, and Toshinori has to bite back a laugh as he asks, “Is… everyone in there?”

“Uh, yes,” that’s Izuku’s voice that comes from somewhere in the middle of the room.

“I think we lost Mineta somewhere between a few pillows,” Sero comments good naturedly.

“Actually, we buried him,” Jirou mutters.

Iida’s gesturing almost topples a wall over as he exclaims, “Everyone! Go look for him! Really now…”

“Sensei, come join us!” Kirishima pops up next to Mina’ waving so much that Bakugou emerges, too, swatting him over the head to stop him. “Ow!”

“Is there enough space for me in there?”

“Sure!”

“Pleeeease, Sensei!”

Toshinori relents, crawling under and into the fort carefully. He’s too tall and lanky for this, has to basically lie on his stomach in order to fit, but since the ground is also covered in pillows, that’s not even that uncomfortable.

And honestly, uncomfortable or not, it’s so worth it just because his students greet him loudly and happily, basically snuggling up to him once he has settled down.

Once Aizawa walks into the dorms, back from his job as an underground hero, there is nothing to be seen from his students or his colleague. Only the blanket meets his eye once he turns the corner.

Aizawa stops, blinks, let’s that sink in for a moment, before, “How many hours did you all spend on this?”

There is some shuffling, before one edge of the “ceiling” gets lifted and a pair of eyes blinks at him.

“Welcome back, Sensei,” Tsuyu greets him kindly. “We did our homework first, promise.”

“Hm,” Aizawa frowns, not sure if that is enough of a reassurance.  

“It’s just that we couldn’t sleep afterwards.”

If he wanted or not, Aizawa’s reservation towards this child’s work vanishes at that, and he sighs. “Toshinori?”

“Ah, yes?” Tsuyu scoots over as the retired hero appears next to her.

“You better tell me that my sleeping bag is somewhere in there with you.”

“I actually saw it somewhere around here…,” more shuffling, and the blond grunts triumphantly, “Ha! Thank you, Tooru. You’re sleeping bag is here, Aizawa-kun.”

“Well, nothing for it then,” Aizawa crouches, carefully examining the thick walls of blankets. “Is there a door to this thing?”

“Oooh, is Aizawa-sensei joining us, too?!” Kirishima exclaims. “Sweet!”

“It’s getting fucking cramped in here, guys,” Bakugou grumbles.

“Just make yourself a bit smaller, man.”

“Yeah, you could deflate your ego a bit,” Kaminari suggests. “Lots of space would come from that.”

“You fucking little…!”

“Yikes! Help! Get him off me!”

“Guys! You will topple the whole fort, stop that!”

By the time Aizawa has been granted entrance to the fort, he is already regretting his decision to join in on this – there won’t be any escape if people start exploding stuff or electrocuting each other, and he is tired to use his quirk.

“Don’t worry,” Toshinori seems to read his mind. The blond looks utterly too childlike for a grown man, lying on his stomach and making himself comfortable amidst stuffed animals. “They will calm down soon enough.”

“If you say so,” Aizawa huffs, but relaxes enough to climb into his sleeping bag and try to get some sleep.

And really, it doesn’t take too long for the bickering to calm down, yawns to be heard and really, and shortly after Aizawa feels someone flop down next to him, half snuggling up to him.

Cracking one eye open, he regards his students – especially Mina, who is basically falling asleep on his arm – with a calculating look before he huffs and goes back to sleep.

He has to confess – this fort is really good work from these kids.

Shock Horror

(Gif source: x)

Characters- Dean x Reader, Sam
Summary- Dean comes back from a witch hunt not quite himself. You do your best to help, and hope that it’s enough.
Word Count- 1,889
Warnings- Angst, Fluff, Language.
Beta- @jpadjackles  **re-edited**
A/N- Prompt: ‘Caught Up In You’ by 38 Special Requested by @anon. I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think! Also, thank you all so much for 2.5k followers! I love y’all so much <3


As you crouch in front of the open passenger door, you look over the man in the bench seat. The man you see is far removed from the usual Dean Winchester you knew. He’s eerily quiet, sitting stiffly as he stares, unseeing, out of the windshield. The impala is parked in the bunker’s garage, but he just sits there, motionless, except for the occasional lethargic blink.

When Sam and Dean came back from their hunt, you expected them to be in one of two moods. The first and most preferred was the giddy excitement of a job well done, beers and pie all around. The second was less desired, the quiet thoughtfulness of a rough hunt.

Right now you would take the quiet over this.

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The ladies of S.H.I.E.L.D. and FitzSimmons! (…And Spider-Man.)

Me as Jemma, @daisy-in-the-skye as Daisy, @bribuzzz as Bobbi, & @gabitachiquita as Spider-Man.

Necessary

“I can already tell, that it won’t taste as deliciously as you would.”

Précis: In which you go on a date with your supposed boyfriend who loves to flirt, and not just with you.

Note: *starts snickering* does anyone remember this? One of my first bts fics ever, and it’s back and revamped. You’ll thank me later. | Words ➳ 7.4k

Genre & Warning: Angsty with a side of fluff, or am I lying? No warning, goodbye.


It was on a frosty evening when you found yourself sitting alone on a metallic bench, your eyes filled with such awe and longing as you watched the snow fall softly. You didn’t know what it was, but as your hand slowly reached out to grab a few snowflakes onto your glove, you inspected them carefully and smiled at how delicately they were made, as if the angels residing in the clouds took their time to construct and sculpt each one as they flew freely into the sky; only to be smothered and perished into the ground.

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For some reason, I could not find this scene. Like I know it exists, but I couldn’t find it. Anyway, I’m gonna roll with this! For @jigglejaggle (Sorry this sat so long!)

It didn’t take long for the Paladins to learn to not underestimate their Bayards.

When Pidge shocked Lance with hers, she didn’t mean it as anything other than an annoyed jab to hush the boy, and when he fell to the ground, she smirked.

But, he didn’t come back up.

“Um, guys?” She started, staring at Lance with furrowed brows, and when Lance suddenly started convulsing, she cursed loudly. “Shit! Guys!”

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listen i just. alec has his hands behind his back so often and when he doesn’t he’s nearly always stimming with them and it just makes me wonder ???? how many times growing up did maryse snap at him to keep them still until he started just putting them behind his back out of habit to stop himself from ‘fidgeting’ because he was told it was annoying and childish? also i’ve noticed he kinda rocks on his heels sometimes when his hands are behind his back?? like he’s doing that Instead of the hand things so

Birthday Blues // Jeff Atkins

A/N: Honestly, I wrote this at 1am. 

Named after: The fact that I mentioned readers birthday so much. That and I was listening to the blues.


It was a Saturday. It was the day of the championship game for baseball. But most importantly, it was your birthday.


You had let this small fact take a back seat in weeks leading up to the game, you didn’t want to stress Jeff out. Your boyfriend was already spending more time with Clay to get tutoring for two more classes just to make sure he’d play. He’d exercise in the early morning before school, go to baseball practice after, study and do homework with the smaller boy, and then watch his previous games until it was time to repeat.

It had become a routine, and Jeff normally got like this a few days before his games. You’d grown accustomed to it, you would plan to walk to school or ride with your next door neighbor Alex Standall, pack a few extra protein bars and Gatorade to leave in his locker, as well as massage him during his film.

He was…distant but it was okay because he always felt so guilty after, he’d pamper you for the next week.

However, what your boyfriend failed to let you know, was that for the championship, this routine of his was starting two weeks before you expected it. So when you found yourself arriving at school by 3rd period, after waiting 20 minutes for your boyfriend to show up you were more than angry.

But you pushed it aside, silently forgiving your baseball player. You knew Jeff loved the sport he played. For the most part, it was the only thing he felt he was incredible at. So you slowly adjusted to this behavior for the week, eating lunch by yourself because Jeff didn’t initially tell you he was going to the athletic trainer during your lunch period. Nodding as he asked you if you could find another ride home because practice was running late. Walking when you realized all your friends had already left.

It was fine, you knew it wasn’t intentional or malicious, he just really wanted the game to go well. Scouts would be looking at him. More importantly, you knew that once these weeks finished you’d have him all to yourself, starting on your birthday.

You walked through the bleachers wearing Jeff’s home jersey, 30 minutes before the game started. You saved seats for his parents who had already wished you a happy birthday, your parents who were there to support your boyfriend, and your friends who had helped you survive these past two weeks.

You made three posters all with different puns and cheesy jokes that you were sure Jeff would love,
 ’#1 on the field AND in my heart’
 'No that is not Derek Jeter, it’s Jeff Atkins’

And your personal favorite,
  ‘Atkins, Homerun counter:__’

You brought a sharpie with you to the game and by the end of it, you had edited that poster at least four times. You screamed so loud during the game you barely had any voice left when the team won.

The student section, along with yourself rushed the field and you watched as your boyfriend and his teammates poured water all over their coach. You smiled, more proud of Jeff than ever. Your two weeks of relationship hell were over and you were going to spend the rest of this Saturday night celebrating him and your birthday.

When you finally got the opportunity to get to Jeff, waiting for his parents and your parents to go first so they could leave, you hugged him as tightly as you could you pecked his lips before asking, “Now what champ?”

He smiled at the abbreviation. He let go holding out a finger signaling he’d get back to you. He left, jogging over to his teammates and a few reporters. You waited. Waited as the captains talked to the reporters who covered the game, waited as he greeted the college scout with a firm handshake, waited as the team filed out.

Jeff was the first one on that field and the last one to leave the dugout. He had all of his stuff in his baseball bag, slung on one shoulder while he wrapped the other arm around your waist.

“We’re going to Bryce’s!” He said smiling as you reached his car.

“W-what?” You asked trying to keep it together.

“Bryce, you know Bryce, he’s throwing a party for the win! You asked, ‘now what’ so that’s what!” He replied placing his stuff in his trunk.

You couldn’t lie, it fucking hurt. He forgot. He forgot your birthday of all days. You understand, it was the championship but the last thing you wanted to do was get drunk with a bunch of rowdy jocks. You and Jeff did that almost every weekend. Before you could say anything, Jeff opened the door for you, kissing your cheek.

“Jeff…” you started your voice nearly breaking. But when he turned to you, with the world in his eyes, ecstatic he had just won, you couldn’t bring yourself to ruin it. So you swallowed the lump in your throat and blinked back your tears as you forced a smile on your face.

“Could you please take me home? I’m not feeling too well.” You said, barely managing to make it through your request.

He nods, rushing back over to the driver’s seat. He grabs your hand, rubbing circles on your skin all the way to your house. His grip tightens as he pulls into your driveway and finally looks over at you.

You avoid his gaze and move to get out.

“So no party?” He asks you.

“No thanks, but go and have fun okay? I’ll see you tomorrow!”

He furrows his eyebrows placing another kiss on your hand before letting you go.

“Thanks, baby girl, I’ll see you tomorrow!”

And with that, he drives off. Once he’s out of sight you finally let the tears stream down your face like they had wanted to for the past two weeks.

You decided not to call anyone to make other plans, you would much rather sulk in your own pity. You had a mix of texts come in through the night that you ignored. Most of them from friends wishing you a happy birthday, and a few from a very drunk Jeff who, for the life of him, couldn’t manage to spell out ‘I love you’. That night you cried yourself to sleep, upset and alone trying to rationalize your boyfriend’s actions.


You woke up early the next morning, making yourself breakfast and planning out your day to make up for the previous. You could have fun by yourself. You ignored whatever Jeff texted you when you got ready, putting on some of your favorite clothes instead. Sorting through looking for your sweatshirt, you heard a knock on your door.

You threw on a t-shirt instead, yelling out 'come in’, as you started to put your hair into a bun.

“Hey, you feeling better? I have the nastiest hangover, so it’s fine if you’re not, we’ll be miserable together” Jeff started.

And you shook your head slightly at first, then you gradually became angrier. You couldn’t care less if Jeff had a hangover. Throughout his whole drunk escapade, it didn’t even occur to him that you were sitting at home, by yourself, on your birthday. He had treated you like shit for two weeks, he didn’t just get to waltz back into your life as though it never happened.

“Your parents let me in on their way out. You weren’t answering my texts so I just thought-” he stopped himself as he watched your expression change.

“What’s wrong?” He asked gently.

“What’s wrong Jeff? What’s wrong? Are you fucking kidding me?” You questioned, raising your voice slightly.

You didn’t plan on getting angry so fast, he just was so oblivious to everything it pissed you off, royally.

Jeff was taken aback. His mouth dropped slightly as he tried to figure out where he went wrong.

“FIRST. You didn’t give me a ride to school with no notice! I had to fucking walk! I was late to class and now I have detention next weekend so thanks!” You stood, now pacing around your room as Jeff took a seat on your bed.

“Baby-” he tried to interrupt.

“I’m not done” You interjected.

You were so upset you missed the completely shocked expression on Jeff’s face. Everything he did wrong in the past two weeks was flooding in all at once.

“Then! You made me eat by myself at lunch when you didn’t tell me you weren’t going to be there!”

“Baby girl-”

“Don’t you dare 'baby girl’ me! Then! You made me walk home! …IT’S AN HOUR WALK JEFF!”

He stood to meet you in all your anger, approaching you slowly.

“You basically ignored me, FOR TWO WEEKS! For fuck sake, Clay saw you more than I did!”

You couldn’t help it. Everything was spiraling in your head and pouring out of your mouth. When Jeff reached you, his hands that normally felt so comforting betrayed him. You wanted nothing more than to scream and yell until he left until he felt the way that you did.

“Y/N, I’m sorry, okay? Please calm down-” he said in the most soothing voice he could figure.

Jeff was scared, to say the least. He had never seen you this angry before.

“CALM. DOWN? YOU’RE NOT SERIOUS!” You screamed back at him pushing against his chest to create some distance between the two of you.

As your voice grew louder, the tears came rolling in again. When they fell down your cheeks Jeff had to fight the urge to wipe them. He felt guilty, he was the sole reason you were so worked up.

“THEN TO TOP IT ALL OFF JEFFREY? YOU FORGOT MY BIRTHDAY!”

Jeff could have sworn he felt his heart stop. He knew he had been forgetting something, he just didn’t know it was you. He couldn’t even stutter out a response, he just stood there taking you in.

“I made three fucking posters for you! And I was there for you! Through all this BULLSHIT! I waited after the game! When you did all your interviews, and you met with all the scouts, and you were fucking around with the boys! I let you do whatever the fuck you needed to! And you left me. On my birthday. FOR A FUCKING PARTY!”

You were sobbing at this point and your voice cracked as you screamed at him.

Jeff had tears at the brims of his eyes as well, he had no idea how much he hurt you in the past two weeks.

“A fucking party Jeff…god, you’re such an asshole.” You mumbled, wiping your tears frantically, hoping that they would stop flowing.

Jeff blinked back the tears his eyes before he approached you again. He stood this time, at least two feet away to give you your space. It was the distance that hurt him the most, normally he couldn’t take his hands off of you. Now, he had to watch his first love cry, because of him, and she was too upset to even let him wipe away her tears.

“I’m sorry” he began.

And before you could interrupt him he continued.

“I- I’m so sorry.” He tripped over his own apology as a few tears fell from his eyes. He wiped them quickly, he knew he wasn’t in the position to get emotional when he was the one who hurt you.

“I was such a dick…and I- I fucked up big time…I don’t even fucking deserve you…” he struggled to find the right words that would make this all go away, but unlike your usual insignificant fights, he knew there wasn’t any combination of words that would fix it.

“Lemme make it up to you” he pleaded.

You crossed your arms over each other. Furious and devastated all at once. You wanted him to stay with you for the rest of the day but you also wanted him to get the hell out of your room.

Jeff slowly closed the gap between you two, grabbing at your waist.

“Please. Y/N. Let me fix it.”

He stared at you, searching your eyes waiting for your answer.

“I’ll beg if I have to” he offered up with a sad smile.

You frowned avoiding his eyes, you and Jeff both knew his puppy dog eyes could get you to do anything.

And so Jeff got onto his knees, his hands still at your waist and you finally looked at him.

“Jeff, get up” you muttered.

“Just give me a chance to fix it.” He countered.

You nodded quickly if only to get him off the ground, and he smiled standing to his feet again. He embraced you in what felt like the tightest hug ever.

“I’m really sorry” he mumbled into your hair.

And when he pulled away he was leaving your room.

“Cancel all your plans today, I’ll be back in an hour, I promise this is going to be the best day of your life!” He rambled as he grabbed his keys from your bed.

“Jeff, I don’t want you to le-” you whined. This was the first time he was paying attention to you in a while.

“One hour. If I’m not back……dump me!” He called out as he left your room door.

You sat on your bed, hearing the rumble of his engine begin, and when the sound of his car left your ears you exhaled and leaned back onto your bed. Hopeful for what was in store.


Part 2

John and Sherlock both mutually agree to not have any Big Plans for Valentine’s Day. This is a relief for both of them- each case they’ve been on the for past week has been some Valentine-themed gimmick, and Sherlock thinks he’ll scream if he sees one more heart shaped box of chocolates. “The chocolates are poisoned. Jealous ex posing as a secret admirer. Really. Stop looking at me like that, if you dare give this a stupid title, I’ll-”

So, they go to bed with the promise that the most eventful thing happening the following day will be a massive takeaway, the extra portions the only hint that it’s a special occasion.

Except, when Sherlock wakes, John is not there. He stretches and rolls into John’s spot in bed- still warm. Can’t have wandered far then. He rolls back over to his side, and that’s when his head brushes against something on his pillow, a slight rustling sound. 

Sherlock frowns and sits up. Lying on his pillow is a small brown envelope, just the word Sherlock written on it with a ballpoint pen. Sherlock smiles at how the r and l loop together into a smudge, the ink not sympathetic to John being left-handed. 

He picks up the envelope and turns it over. And then, on the back, is written one last thing: S.W.A.L.K. It rings some sort of bell, and Sherlock thinks for a moment, before it comes to him:

Sealed

With 

Loving

Kiss

Sherlock’s stomach gives a pleasant little jolt, and while Sherlock does indeed know that John is very much a romantic, sometimes it still takes him by surprise. He breathes in and opens the envelope.

But, instead of a card, it’s a sheaf of papers, diligently folded over and over again so they could fit inside. Slowly, Sherlock unfolds them:

Dear Sherlock,

         Hello there. Thought you’d be a bit sick of the sight of cards after All That (sorry-can’t deny the public a pun in the blog title). So. I thought I’d try something different. 

I love you. And I’m going to tell you that, today, and tomorrow and every day to come. But here’s when I wanted to say it. Before.

God, I am actually really nervous about this. I hope it’s not- too much. Anyway. You’re sleeping like a log right now. Read this and then we can maybe get breakfast from the café?

Yours,

John.

Feeling a little light-headed, Sherlock turns the page over. And here, here are more words, a whole wonderful screed:

When I thought ‘I love you’ but didn’t say it (I’m sorry)

We’re laughing against the wall and it’s the best night of my life, and you smile with your eyes lighting up the whole world and tell me “Says the man at the door.”

When you opened that fortune cookie and it landed in your drink and I pretended not to notice.

When you thought no-one was watching and you helped that little girl who’d lost her parents during rush hour. (I was watching you from the window). 

When you didn’t run at the pool.

When you stole that ashtray.

The words blur on the page and Sherlock has to stop reading. He blinks and blinks and doesn’t mind if the occasional stray tear falls, not really. He knows, God how he knows John finds these sorts of things ‘difficult’ and the fact that he pushed past it all, and poured out… everything. It- it means- he can’t quite-

Sherlock’s fingers trace over John’s words, taking their time. “Me too,” Sherlock whispers. “I love you.”

He carefully sets the papers down, ready to find his John, ready to seal the start of the day with a very loving kiss of his own indeed.

Sheith Fic Rec

I figured that I wanted to contribute to the fandom in some way and I read a lot of fics, so why not make a rec list? I included the summary for each fic, plus some commentary from me in italics. I hope the authors don’t mind that I linked them, at least the ones I know of. Thank you so much for contributing to this wonderful ship, it wouldn’t be as great as it is now without you. Feel free to talk to me about sheith anytime, I’d love to make more friends.

One-Shots (Canon-verse)

the whole town’s sleeping by astrainclinant (T) 18k 

Of inevitability and stars.

Alternatively, how Keith and Shiro come together.

Basically what I’d consider a classic Sheith fic, and a must read for any Sheith fan. I will never have the words to describe how I feel when I read this.


the fear of falling by amillionsmiles/ @amillionsmiles (G) 4k

Keith can pull off a downward spiral. It’s the kind of maneuver he does in his sleep.

Keith character study, with implied Sheith. Different attempt at Keith’s backstory.


 ‘til you set fire to my atmosphere by amillionsmiles/ @amillionsmiles (T) 2k 

And it’s like the first punch Keith ever landed on him: quick and glancing, right at the ribs, out of left field and yet simultaneously a long time coming.

Pining Shiro, because Pining Shiro is everything.


the body remembers (what the mind forgets) by ShirosRedKnight (SweetFanfics)/ @shirosredknight (E) 10k

Shiro’s fingers slide up to touch his skin, warm points of contact that make Keith shiver. “It’s just a year,“ Shiro reassures him quietly, "I’ll be back before you know it. It’ll be like the time you were studying to come here.”

His lips twitch up, trying to be supportive but it’s hard. Keith knows its the right thing to do, to be happy for Shiro. But it’s hard when he’s imagining a space without Shiro in it. Loneliness is already creeping up his torso, curling around his heart and lungs and choking the happy pride he feels for Shiro.

He already misses Shiro so terribly.

tldr: Keith and Shiro were together pre-canon but then Shiro went on his mission and came back with no memories of his time with Keith. How does one even begin to deal with the love of your life forgetting you?

That Shiro forgetting Keith and their relationship AU we all need. The feelings in this were A+.

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