#I am also a sour wuss

[lovelyiida]

➜ new years kiss headcanon’s!

CHARACTERS: BAKUGO, IIDA, KIRISHIMA, DENKI, SHINSOU

WARNINGS: SLIGHTLY smutty, intended fem/gn reader, mentions of panties, angst, the p word, your WAIST

➜ masterlist

➜ tag form

➜ words: 5K

reposts are welcomed!

➜ BAKUGO KATSUKI ✲ gn! reader

Decides to kiss you after the countdown, he can’t handle the pressure. (No one can tell him what to do, not even a stupid clock).

"I think if I saw Mina force-feed another grape in her mouth under that table, I was gonna vomit."

"I barfed a little in my mouth, actually."

A guttural laugh escaped from your lips as you held your stomach for support, and Katsuki couldn’t stop looking at you. The both of you were on clean-up duty after the New Year’s party the class held. However, you easily stopped caring about cleaning and decided to do what the both of you did best—shit talking.

Eyes snapping wide, you sat up in your seat and pointed towards the blonde with a smirk. “Oh! And did you see Denki and Jiro kiss? Ugh, I swear they needed to get a room.” You grimaced in jealousy. Katsuki let out a dry chuckle before placing his feet up on the common room table.

“Sounds like you’re jealous,” Katsuki sighed. Rolling your eyes, you followed his actions and placed your feet on the table as well.

"Well, I thought a guy I knew was gonna kiss me, but he wussed out." You mumbled, picking at the lint on the couch. Katsuki’s eyes looked out into the distance, going into deep thought as to who this "guy" could be.

Iida? Old news, pretty funny seeing you get rejected by him, though.

Shoji? He doesn’t really want to picture that interaction.

Kirishima? He’d be a dead man if he tried it.

Laying his head back against the plush fabric, he turned and looked at you. “Wha?” You asked, a small smile pressed on your lips as you tilted your head to the side.

“Who’s the guy?” He asked in curiosity, eyebrows lifted as he tried his hardest not to look as if he really wanted to know the answer. Even though he really does.

“You promise not to get upset?” You said softly. You couldn’t help but chuckle as you watched the overdramatic blonde roll his eyes and let out a deep sigh.

“I swear... if it’s shitty-hair–“

“Nope.”

Katsuki gave you a look before sighing in defeat. “Alright, lay it on me.” Taking in a deep breath, you covered your eyes and cowered to the side. Slowly lifting your finger (for dramatic effect) towards him.

Katsuki’s eyes widened as he looked at your quivering finger (also for dramatic effect). “Me?” He said, disbelief etched through his tone as he grumbled out the word. Humming in response, the blonde was taken aback.

“I’m… the wuss?” He also said in disbelief. Uncovering your eyes, you slammed your hands on the couch. “Yes! You are!” You argued with a smile.

“And don’t even try and tell me that you don’t have feelings for me; 'shitty-hair' already told me everything.”

A light blush dusted against his cheeks as he cursed under his breath. “I’m gonna kill him,” he growled under his breath.

“So why didn’t you do it, hm?” You hummed. The blonde looked at you for a moment before sitting up in his seat; oh, he meant business.

“Because why should a stupid clock tell me what to do?” He argued. You looked up, pretending to be in deep thought. “Oh, I don’t know…maybe because it’s tradition?” You said it as a matter-of-factly.

“Fuck tradition.”

“Oh, you’re such a wuss,” you teased. Katsuki’s eyes snapped towards you, and he gave you a frown. “Shut it!” He yelled out loud.

“Make me.”

Katsuki didn’t need to be asked twice; taking his feet off the table, he launched himself towards you. Tightly gripping your waist, he smashed his lips against yours. The force of the kiss toppled you over.

Once a harsh kiss, it turned soft as his hands began to gently caress your sides.

Once sour, now sweet.

Pulling away from your lips gently, you blinked open your eyes and met Katsuki’s deep amber eyes. “Am I a wuss now?” He said with a mischievous smirk. You let out a chuckle before raising your hands to caress his face.

“You’re a shit kisser.”

“Bet you liked it though.”

“...I did.”

➜ TENYA IIDA ミ★ gn! reader

As the clock ticks with not much time on his hands, you were no where to be found.

Will his plans go correct?

"Has anyone seen Y/n?" Iida asked, a twinge of anxiety laced in his tone as his eyes quickly scanned the common room of class 1-A.

"Um, have you tried outside? Denki and a couple of others are out lighting sparklers," said Ojiro. Iida rushed past the blonde without another word as he stormed outside.

Looking around, he only saw Denki, Hakagure, and Kirishima trying to light 10 sparklers at once… using Denki’s mouth.

"Please! Take that out of your mouth!" Iida grumbled sternly. He watched the trio scurry off before hurrying back into the dorms. Standing in the middle of all the celebratory ruckus, Iida placed his hands on his hips.

"Shit."

Iida quietly cursed under his breath as he nervously pushed up his glasses. Iida had a strict plan to conquer, and it seemed as if everything was falling apart.

You see, Iida had a step-by-step plan to win you over today. Starting with being at your side the whole party, he wanted to talk to you and do the many activities he planned so that he could swoon you over.

Next, he was going to lay it out on you. Express everything he was feeling. Through a heartfelt letter, of course. You'd be weak in the knees by then, right?

Finally, he'd corner you in, possibly leading you behind everyone and kissing you right then and there.

The new year would be perfect.

But it’s 8 minutes until countdown, and you’re nowhere in sight. How will he go through with his plan if the main attraction is nowhere to be seen?

Storming into the elevators, he goes floor by floor.

First, second, third… nothing.

Stopping at the third-floor terrace, he let out an irritated groan. Checking his wrist for the time, he sighed.

“3 minutes until countdown…”

Resting his arms against the terrace, he placed his hand against his forehead. Shaking his head in defeat, the raven-haired man sat up and began to head back down to the common room.

Sniffle, sob, snort.

Iida’s brows lifted as he heard the faint noises. Someone is crying? Walking back over to the terrace, he leaned forward, trying his hardest to listen in on the faint sobs.

“Woah!”

Eyes going wide, it seemed as if Iida’s hand slipped from the railing. This is what happens when you’re a nosy class president. Flipping over the edge, Iida quickly held grasp of the second-floor railing before he could slip any further.

Activating his quirk, Iida safely landed on his feet at the second-floor terrace. Dusting himself off, he looked up and suddenly put on a frown.

“Y/n?”

He watched you, all teary-eyed and pout-lipped. Your eyes wide and bloodshot, shaking a little from the scene that just took place.

“I-Iida? What the hell just happened?” You whimpered. Walking past him, you placed your hand on the railing and shook it, making sure that it wasn’t loose, but to your suspicion, it wasn’t.

“I was up there on the third floor and I heard you… I didn’t know it was you– I’m trying to say that I was trying to find where the noise was coming from! Not trying to be nosy– which I’m not, by the way–“

“Iida,” you mumbled. “It’s all good, I’m fine.” You tried your best to smile, but you couldn’t. Iida looked at you with a frown, walking towards you; he placed his hand on your shoulder.

“Well, you’re obviously not, Y/n,” he said sternly. Biting your lip, you began to sob out once more.

“It’s just… seeing everyone down there having a good time celebrating…” you trailed off with a sniffle. “You guys are so excited for the new year and I’m not.” You emphasized with a strained chuckle.

Hanging your head low, you confessed. “I don’t think I’ll stay here next semester.”

Within those small moments, you uttered those words, it felt as if Iida’s world was crashing down. His mouth was slightly agape at your words, dragging his hand from your shoulder to the side of your arm, he speaks.

“What? Why would you leave?” He asked.

“Because!” You yelled out, exasperated.

“I just don’t think I’m strong enough for this. My quirk is shitty. I’m lacking behind the rest of the class; everyone seems as if they’re improving by the second, and I’m just here being left behind—I’m not as special as everyone says–“

“What?” Iida interrupted, in utter disbelief.

Blinking up at him, your mouth was slightly agape as you looked at him. He actually looked angry.

“Not as special? Do you hear yourself when you speak?” He lets out a dry chuckle. Looking down at the floor, you spoke, “Listen… everything that I’m saying is true—“

“Bullshit.”

Eyes snapping wide, you cover your mouth as you watch Iida curse. “Everything that you’re saying isn’t the truth. And I’d know that!” He shouts passionately.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this! You’re so perfect, and you’re saying this? Y/n, do you know how much I look up to you?” He says, a deep frown pressed on his lips as he looked deep within your eyes.

Shaking your head, he lets out a scoff.

“Everyday I look at you and wonder why you’re so perfect. From the way you smile, to the way you treat others, and how you work harder than anyone else I’ve seen… you’re so perfect, and you don’t even know it.”

A singular tear slides down your cheek as you look at him in disbelief. “Iida… I didn’t know you felt that way.”

“Y/n, I’m in love with you.”

Damn, that was supposed to come out more poetic.

“A-and you can’t leave! Because if you leave, my world crashes down and I’ll have no one to look up to. No one to yearn for, and no one to truly love and appreciate.” Iida spoke softly, hands going stiff as he snaked his hands around your waist.

“I’m not saying that you should stay for me; stay for your future. Because it’s gonna be great, and you’d be an amazing hero.”

Iida’s eyes trace along your face, taking in every detail. Each tear, each twinkle of your eyes, the quiver of your lips. Slowly placing his hand against your cheek. You lean into his touch.

“Iida–“

beep, beep, beep!

beep, beep, beep!

The both of you jolt at the sudden loud noise. Iida’s eyes trace over at his watch, watching as the clock strikes 12. Signaling in the new year.

Without even thinking, Iida slowly leans in and presses a soft kiss on your lips. Leaning into the kiss, you trace your arms around his neck and deepen the kiss.

Slightly pulling away, Iida places small pecks against your cheeks before looking into your eyes. The both of you let out a small chuckle before leaning back into each other’s arms.

After all the thoughts that have raced in your head today. You didn’t think you’d enter into the new year kissing Iida, that’s for sure.

EJIRO KIRISHIMA 🜸 fem! reader

He’s less confident, more fidgety than usual. And it’s gonna take a lot for him to finally confess to you.

Luckily, Bakugo can help!

"Hey guys!"

The room erupted with cheerful greetings and laughter, but Kirishima couldn't say a word as he watched you walk towards him.

And damn, you looked good.

"Whoa, what's with the new look?" said Denki. You played with your hair in response before speaking. "I don't wanna be cheesy, but new year, new me!" you exclaimed.

"Failed," Bakugo deadpanned.

Smacking your lips, you rolled your eyes before looking at the redhead. "Look Kiri, we're matching!" you exclaimed as you pointed at your head. It was true; both of you were matching.

Bright red hair caressed your face and perfectly matched with your features. Kirishima thought he was looking at an angel. One thing he knows: what's sexier than the color red?

Kirishima looked at you with no words, and usually, he can't stop talking. Sitting there, you waited for his response, but it seemed he was giving you nothing.

"I think he's saying you're drop-dead gorgeous—"

"W-what!" Kirishima cuts off Denki's words, waving his hands defensively. "I didn't say that! I mean, you do look really nice— I'm not saying you're not gorgeous. I-I'm just saying I didn't say that—"

"It's okay Kiri, I understand." You gave him a small smile before waving to the group goodbye and walking away to see everyone else.

"Dude!," Denki snorted.

"You absolutely tanked that; how the hell are you supposed to kiss them if you can't even give them a cohesive compliment?" Sero laughs, which then leads to him and Denki throwing themselves into a fit of laughter.

"Guys!" Kirishima bashfully groans out, trying to distract himself with sorting out the sparklers. A present blush on his cheeks grows as he revels in the situation.

"Hey dunce-face," Bakugo speaks out. Kirishima looks up at the blonde, his face unreadable. "If you don't kiss her, I will." Bakugo places down the remaining sparklers before bumping his shoulder and walking away.

Kirishima watches as Bakugo walks towards you with a smirk. As you turned at him, you smiled and gave him a hug.

Pang.

Kirishima's chest tightens at the sight of his best friend seemingly making moves on his crush. And he knew especially how Kirishima felt about you.

"Kiri… you alright?" Speaks Sero, taking his hand out towards Kirishima's shoulder; he suddenly shoves it out of his grasp.

Kirishima's blood boiled as he watches both of you. Look at you, just canoodling in front of him with no remorse!

Snapping a cluster of sparklers in his hand, he slams his fist down and races over to both of you.

"Oh, shit…" Denki and Sero both say worriedly.

Kirishima walks over towards both of you. Cups in hand, he watched how your body was too close to Bakugo's for his own comfort. Chuckling at whatever Bakugo was saying. Your eyes look over at Kirishima, and you let out a frown.

"Kiri, are you okay?" You say softly. Bakugo then looks up at the redhead, unfazed. "Bakugo, dude, we need to talk," Kirishima says sternly. Bakugo looks at the redhead, observing his clenched fists and red ears; he lets out a dry chuckle before handing you his cup.

"I'm all ears." Bakugo walks behind Kirishima as he leads him into an empty hallway. Turning towards the blond, he erupts.

"What the hell, dude!" He shouts. "What are you doing? You know how much I like Y/n; how could you!" Kirishima says exasperated.

"And what makes you think you're the only one that likes them, eh?" He says with a smirk. His words take Kirishima aback.

Mouth agape, he stutters, "w-what?"

"You heard me. What makes you think it's just you? What if I told you I liked her longer than you've liked her? What if I told you I had the same exact plans you had for tonight?"

Kirishima listens to the blonde in disbelief.

"Dude, you can't do this…" Kirishima whimpers.

"All I'm saying is…" Bakugo steps closer to the redhead. "I tried giving you the benefit of the doubt. But I've grown impatient, and if you're too much of a pussy to make a move; I'm gonna step in and do what I should've done a long time ago."

Bakugo's words dripped with venom as he spoke to his friend. Kirishima blinks before frowning at the blonde.

"You think I'm too pussy?" Kirishima says with a devilish smirk. The blonde looks at him straight-faced, "you've proven my theory so far." Bakugo says, his voice is unwavering as he insults Kirishima.

"Watch me!" Kirishima growls before shoving the blonde away. As he entered back into the common room, the lights were off, and the strobe lights were on.

Each student laughing and having a good time as they began to welcome in the new year. But the only thing on Kirishima's mind was you.

You watched as the redheads eyes were dead-set onto you. You watched with a frown as he stormed up to you. "Kiri, what's wrong—"

"Y/n, I like you!" Kirishima confessed.

Eyes going wide, you became speechless at his words. Kirishima huffs out a breath before speaking again, "I've liked you ever since the entrance exam. I remember seeing you for the first time and thinking to myself—dude, she's so hot!"

"Of course, I never thought I could be your boyfriend though; I mean, I can't even compare! You are drop-dead gorgeous! You're even more than that; you're… you're like Aphrodite or something!—"

Smacking your drink down on a nearby table, you reach forward and grab ahold of the back of Kirishima's neck. With a tight grasp, you smash your lips against his.

Kirishima couldn't even register what was happening at the moment. He felt as if the world was slowing down; the loud noises surrounding him faded away.

Feeling the plushness of your lips and the sweetness of your tongue. Kirishima hums into your lips, tightly holding a grasp of your waist before deepening the kiss.

But in the distance, what Kirishima didn't notice, was his three friends snickering in the distance at the two of you.

"So… are you gonna tell him you were lying the whole time?" Sero quipped. Bakugo leans back into the wall with a sigh, "nah… I'm gonna let his ego have it."

"For now, at least."

For the rest of the night, things went without a hitch. As both of you were able to share a proper New Year's kiss directly at dawn.

➜ DENKI KAMINARI ☻︎ fem! reader

Unlike everyone else, you and Denki made it a mission to have good luck for the upcoming new year.

Especially luck in the romantic department…

(INFO: eating 12 grapes before the clock strikes 12:01 for the new years is a tradition that is supposed to bring in immense luck for the new year. Also, if you wear red underwear this gives you luck romantically for the new year!)

“How long are you gonna wash those grapes?”

“As long as I need to! This has to be perfect if you want this to work, Denki,” you said with a sigh.

“Whatever you say, Y/n…”

Denki watched intently as you relentlessly soaked the grapes over and over again, making sure each and every grape was spotless. With a mischievous grin, he spoke.

“Y’know, I heard you’ll get even better luck if you shove the grapes–“

“Gross!” You shout before letting him finish. Denki laughed before casually leaning against the kitchen counter.

“So, did you also put on red underwear?~” You said. Denki hummed before reaching into his pants and showing you the elastic band. Looking down, you let out a chuckle as you continued washing the grapes meticulously.

“What? Don’t tell me you didn’t—“

“No, don’t worry, I did! You just didn’t have to show me,” you continued to chuckle. Denki smiled before closing in on your personal space.

“And what about you? Gotta prove it too, don’t ya?” He said with a mischievous grin. You gave Denki a look, cheeks rising in heat at his flirtatious words.

Pushing him away softly, you cursed. “Forget it, and help me out, would ya?” You said irritated, trying to soak the big batch of grapes thoroughly.

Denki promptly rolled up his sleeves and began to assist you with the already clean grapes. “I swear, if I don’t get a boyfriend this year, I’m going to off myself,” you spoke.

“Same here, but the other way around?” Denki spoke, momentarily confusing both of you. This led to both of you sharing a hearty laugh. “I’m just saying that your boy is in desperate need of some c’est la vie.”

You looked over and looked at him flatly, “that’s… not even the right saying.” You chuckled before stopping in your tracks.

“I know, smartass.”

“Hey.”

Denki suddenly shut off the water with a quick motion. “I think they’re clean, let’s just set everything up already? The ball drops in 10 minutes!” He said excitedly.

“But—“

Denki shushed you with a quick motion by placing his finger against your mouth. Turning his back towards you, he started to take out plates and arrange them on the table.

You let out a defeated sigh before following his lead. Both of you began to set everything up, distributing plates of grapes to classmates before filling plates for yourselves.

You and Denki then huddled underneath the table with smiles shining bright from ear to ear. “Make way!” said Mina.

Before both of you knew it, several others began to huddle under the table as well. Bodies pressed up against each other, you and Denki were pressed against each other, chest to chest.

You never decided to look up at him, as the only thing separating both of you was now air and Ojiro’s tail…

As the countdown began, you settled the grapes in your lap, excitedly shouting down the final seconds to the new year.

“Five, four, three, two, one!”

Quickly, you and a multitude of others began to stuff the grapes in your mouth, hurriedly making sure the clock didn’t read 12:01. As you were eight grapes in, you looked over and saw Denki’s plate completely filled with grapes.

Looking at him, you frowned. “Why’re you not eating your grapes?” you muffled. Denki looked down with a smile, “you’re so cute with your mouth full like that.”

What.

You paused in your tracks, not even caring about beating the clock. As you chewed and swallowed, you noticed the light pink blush cascading over Denki’s freckled cheeks.

“What did you say?” you spoke.

“C’mere…” Denki mumbled softly as his hands neared your face. Gently taking you in, he pressed his lips against yours. Eyes rolling closed, your hands grew weak, and your plate of four grapes fell to the floor; all that cleaning for nothing, you guess…

Denki snaked his hands around your waist, traveling lower than expected as he deepened the kiss even more.

Thwack!

“Ah!” you shrieked, looking down you noticed Denki was holding out the elastic band of your red panties. Blushing at the sight, you tried your best to push him away, but you couldn’t.

“Wow, are you wearing a thong?” he whispered in your ear before placing a kiss on the nape of your neck.

“Denki!”

HITOSHI SHINSOU ༄ gn! reader

You and Shinsou could really care less for the new year, it was just another day for the both of you.

So you decide that the both of you should be united in misery and spend the night together, and with his cat.

"Here, kitty…”

Whispering playful banter past your younger companion towards the dark grey furball, you watch as their green eyes glow in curiosity at the feathered toy you held in your hand. Wavering it up and down, you chuckled as the cat began to frantically claw at the feathered material.

“Hey, leave her alone; she pisses when she gets too excited,” Shinsou deadpanned. Pulling your lips into a thin, pressed line, you quickly retract the toy and throw it on top of his bed. You watched as the furball suddenly leaped into Shinsou’s lap; he lazily began to pet the cat with his hands and continued to scroll on his phone.

The both of you currently were sitting on the floor of his dorm, lazily watching whatever was on TV until the "hoopla" was over. You knew class 1-A was having a huge party, but you and Shinsou decided to stay behind. Enveloping yourself in the comfortable silence, your eyes grow droopy as the only noise you can hear was the distant noises of the TV playing old cartoon reruns and the obnoxious purring of Shinsou’s cat.

Letting out a deep sigh, you couldn’t deny it...

You were bored as hell.

Quickly turning over, you reach out towards the remote and start to continuously flip through channels until something actually brings you interest. From family game shows to corny reality TV, nothing to you could cure the hole in your chest that was filled to the brim with absolute boredom. Flipping through more channels, you suddenly find the news channels.

You know you didn’t really want to see it, but the ball drop was a guilty pleasure.

Placing a smirk on your lips, you watched the happy citizens of Japan celebrate the welcoming of the new year. You were actually enjoying yourself until you heard a deep sigh on the other end of your ear. Looking in the corner of your eye, you watch Shinsou roll his eyes. Placing his phone down, he watches the TV, his deepened eye bags only making him look even more miserable than he wished to express.

“You just had to turn this on, huh?” Shinsou says aggravated.

“Oh geez, live a little,” you complained as you turned the volume up.

“I’ll start living once you turn the damn TV down,” Shinsou suddenly snatches the remote from your weakened fingertips; letting out a gasp, you try to reach for it back but you couldn’t. Shinsou turns the volume down before tossing it back into your grasp. Cursing him under your breath, you sneakily turn the TV back up by a couple of points before stashing the remote under the bed.

Shinsou scoffs at your actions and continues watching the TV, looking as if he’s being held here against his will. Chuckling to yourself, your eyes suddenly spark up once you realize the ball was beginning to drop. “Look, they’re starting the countdown!” You excitedly pointed towards the screen; Shinsou lets out a dry chuckle at your childlike excitement.

“Ten…nine,” you whispered excitedly towards Shinsou. “Will you back off if I join?” He questioned; you hummed in response, continuing to count down the final seconds of the new year. Rolling his eyes, he begins to count down with you. The both of you begin to sound out the new year together, even though one of them, in reality, would really care less.

“Five, four, three, two, one!” You quietly shouted out happily. “Happy new year, Shinsou!” You chuckled, suddenly reaching over and embracing him into a quick hug before letting go and reaching down to give his cat the same amount of love. The purple-haired man shakes his head at your antics, stealthily reaching behind you and grabbing the remote; he quickly shuts the TV off.

“Wha—”

Shinsou stands from his seat and places the remote on top of the TV, which he knew you’d be too lazy to reach. “Happy New Year,” Shinsou says smugly. He looks down at you, a frown present against your lips as you continue to baby his cat. “What’s your issue, Shinsou?” You accused. Shinsou sits comfortably on his bed, ignoring you completely before scrolling back on his phone.

Scoffing, Shinsou feels the bed sink as your added weight becomes present. You look at him as he continues to give you no attention, smacking your lips; you snatch his phone away from his hands. Rising from the bed, you also place his phone on top of the TV. Which you also knew he was too lazy to reach for. He suddenly lets out a defeated sigh, letting his head fall before combing his fingers through his purple locks.

“If you’re gonna be an ass…you need an actual reason to be one,” you spat. Shinsou lets out a sigh before speaking, “I thought you said you didn’t care for the new year.”

“I mean, I do and I don’t; it’s still a celebration of life. Who doesn’t like to celebrate?” You argued. “Well, you should’ve gone to 1-A’s party then; everyone is over there…” he trailed off.

“I didn’t want to go to that stupid party; it’s too loud. Plus, everyone already knows they don’t like each other…they’re just there for the free chips and dip,” you quipped. Shinsou chuckles at your words, “that’s true.”

“Plus, I kinda wanted to hang out with you anyways. You’re never around when we do parties, so I might as well see what you’re doing…” you mumbled. Shinsou frowned at your words, “so that’s why you’re here? To throw me a pity party?”

“No, not at all!” You defended.

“I came here because I wanted to hang out with you! But it would also be nice if you told me why you don’t hang out with any of us during the class celebrations” you asked curiously. Shinsou leans against the headboard of his and breathes in for a moment, letting out his breath he begins to speak. “Because I just think they’re dumb. When you have a father who basically has lived every single day of his life, it’s just another day with different decorations.”

“Especially New Years?”

“Especially”

“I mean, everyone huddles in a room making empty promises to themselves and stuff their greedy mouths with grapes! And don’t get me started on the kissing—“

“You sound do miserable, Shinsou” you added in. Shinsou was slightly taken aback by your words “No, I sound realistic.”

“Right, realistically miserable.”

“What this sounds like to me is… you’re mad you have no one to kiss this year” you equate with a smirk. Shinsou’s eyebrows lifted at the accusation, “huh?” You let out a chuckle before moving closer towards the miserable purpled haired guy. “It just makes sense, you’re just mad because you don’t have no one to kiss,” you giggled.

Moving even closer to him, Shinsou uncharacteristically reaches out for you. Taking you by the waist, he pushes you against him, holding you in place as you straddle his lap. "And why would ya' think that?"

“Well… You walk around here thinking you’re all high and mighty, but in reality, you’re just tense—backed up,” you mumbled.

As you and Shinsuo's eyelids began to fall, the gap between you started to close. “You could be right…” Shinsuo sinfully admits; this makes you let out a laugh.

Widening the distance between the both of you throws him off guard, his grip on your waist still held tight as he wasn’t going to let go of this opportunity to kiss you of all people.

“So, you’ll let me?” You say innocently, slightly tilting your head. A blush began to form against Shinsuo’s cheeks, but his bashfulness wasn’t going to stop him from being a flirty piece of shit.

“Do what? You gotta use your words,” he spoke softly, teasing you by caressing the sides of your waist. Warmth begins to rush towards your cheeks before continuing.

“Kiss you.”

Shinsuo brings you close again, “hell yeah.”

Closing the distance between the two of you, your lips softly press against each other feverishly.

Maybe, just maybe, Shinsuo might celebrate the next holiday…whenever that is.

HELLO THERE!! Happy new year to all of you! To celebrate I decided to do some headcanons since I haven’t don’t any in so long. Please comment down below and give me feedback of any kind.

— lovelyiida ❤︎︎

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❥: @xo-evangeline, @nar00, @king-dynamight, @gold24fish, @lovra974 , @bakugospartner, @gaby-11, @akqsa-xxi, @jolynegf, @goldenglow149, @aliruuiz, @zukowantshishonourback, @ilovedenk-i, @atsushiki, @smolbeanzzz, @lem-hhn, @stevenknightmarc, @ryumiii, @idontevenknowlolls, @lyn07, @kennshifts, @ackerman-suck-3-r, @elegantvoids, @thecurlyhairedgoddess, @sunyrose, @thisbicc, @thekookiecorner, @snxwycloud, @skylardarling, @cosmic-rainstorm, @venus-xxoo, @iluv-ace, @yoonievrse, @chixkadee, @starxsage

[thedorklegacy]

The Dork Legacy 4.3 part 2

:DDD!!! Everyone, this is SO____Ophie! :DD She walked by the business and I was like, "EEEE! Just like qualanqui!!"

Margaret: Well, that's done. Now, time to fart around for the rest of my life.

MUTANT CHILD. No, actually, it was birthday time. I was just late with the camera. This is Janeway before...

...And after. Not...much of an improvement, really. But of course she'll grow into it.

Jean Luc fared slightly better than his sister.

He's actually quite a doll after a change of hairstyle.

Roman: I am rocking this pimp suit, bleh!

I'm...not sure what happened, here.

Bilbo: Um...I'd like to take a shower, please.

Shelby: D: But I'll miss you!

Dude: Um, excuse me! I'm starving to death and I'm trapped in your house!

And so he was. He'd been a shopper who snuck into the house before I could lock the doors, and then he couldn't get out. lawl.

I got tired of the CheesyGoth look, and I also missed his freckles.

Janeway: Twy de gween ones. Deys sour appow.

Jean Luc: Weawy? I thought deys was wime fwavowed.

Janeway: Nope. Appow.

Roman: WTF WOMAN I AM TRYING TO SLEEP!!

Willoughby: OH DEAR GOD HIS MORNING BREATH IS AWFUL!

...Then she rolled this. lol.

Look! Margaret has everyday wear again! *cheers!*

However, please note that her loser coworker still has to wear a uniform. Hah! Wuss.

Please take a moment to adjust your monitors to Extreme Cuteness, or else the following picture may cause damage to your computer system, or your vision.

!!!!!!!! Q is totally adorable!! :D Yeah, I included Pirate McSkittles in my homemade multi-PT hack. AND I GOT LUCKY! WOO!

Q: I have so got heir in the bag.

At this point, as I'm sending Shelby to make her some smart milk, I hear an ominous "BOIOIOING!!" I assumed it was just Willoughby on the phone (she frequently falls out of love with her old partners when talking to them), but then this cutscene started:

Originally posted at katu_sims.

[starchaeology]

If anyone knows why we put buttermilk in chocolate cakes, enlighten me I beg of you, because I tried to chug cake batter i made (pan too small for all the batter) and got hit with SOUR. But lo and behold, no sour once cooked.

[maeve-writes]

The Significance of Fair Food

Pairings: Human!Castiel x Reader

Rating: General

Warnings: Fluff, bad decisions.

Summary: You talk the boys into making a stop during your travels and you show Castiel the joys of being human.

a/n: This was written for a SPN challenge years ago.

My three categories were: Fair, snow cone, getting sunburnt.

This is unbeta'd, please forgive any mistakes. This is also my first time writing Castiel, so forgive me if it’s a little... off.

Formally posted on the account @plaided-ani

-

When you asked the boy to make a pit stop, the last thing they expected was to end up pulling into a fairgrounds parking lot. The world was ending, again, you had demons and angels and everything in between after the four of you, but damned if it didn’t seem like a good idea. “Dude,” Dean reasoned with his brother, slapping him on his arm, “fair food.”

“Yes,” you chirped, popping your head between them from the backseat. You wrapped your hands around Sam’s shoulders, fingers digging into the tense muscle and you shook him like a maraca. “Yes!”

“What’s the significance of fair food,” Castiel inquired beside you, curious eyes watching Sam’s head snap to and fro from your jarring.

You rounded on him immediately, releasing Sam before you slid into the former angel’s personal space, slinging your arm around his shoulders. “Castiel,” your voice was quiet, intimate, “fair food is the most delicious nourishment that humans have to offer.” You reached up and ran a hand down his cheek and forced him to look you in the eye, “And all of it’s fried.”

He stared at you unblinkingly, puffy lips slightly parted in confusion. You were a hair’s length apart, close enough to be sharing the same lungs, and he nodded once causing his nose brush against yours.

“If you two are done making out,” Dean cleared his throat, arm perched over the back of his seat to glare at you. “I want a corndog.”

You immediately released Cas and then turned to scramble out of the car. You joined up with Dean, hooking your arm around his and the pair of you charged the fair’s main gate, Sam and Castiel trailing behind you.

The sun was out in full force and what little clouds floating in the sky provided no comfort from it’s heated rays. You turned your head up, eyes closed to bask in the warm as you four waited in line for the first vendor that Dean deemed acceptable.

“Fried butter,” Castiel droned behind you, “that doesn’t sound very healthy.”

“It doesn’t have to be healthy, Cas,” Dean replied, pulling you forward as the queue moved, “it’s fair food.”

Sam huffed in annoyance and shook his head, “That’s not an excuse to clog your arteries.”

“Yes, it is,” you and Dean replied simultaneously.

You righted your head and turned to glare up at the youngest Winchester, but you caught sight of Castiel clutching at his chest, his fingers clenching around the soft white shirt that Dean leant him. “Your heart’s gonna be fine, Cas,” you assure him, stumbling along as Dean pulled you forward yet again. “It takes years of eating bad crap to clog you up. If anyone is gonna die of a heart attack, it’s Dean!”

“And I would have no regrets,” came the proud sniff beside you.

“You two are idiots,” Sam sighed.

You opened your mouth to retort, but Dean yanked you one final time and you spun to order the biggest funnel cake they allotted, double sugar and strawberries on top. Dean, of course, got his three corndogs, Sam opted for cup-o-salad, but Cas was at a loss. “He’ll have a corn dog and fries,” you decided.

Dean stayed back to wait for the order and Sam lead the way to find a semi-clean table nearby. “I’ll admit, Y/N,” Cas confided in you, eyes darting to Sam’s back cautiously, “that this fair food does smell delicious.”

“Oh, Cas,” you cooed, once again slinging your arm around his arm and placed your head on his shoulder, “you’re in for a treat.” You take one side with Castiel, Sam opting to sit across from you. The sounds of the crowd washed over you as you baked in the afternoon sun, the shrills from fast rides and rigged games were the soundtrack of your best idea yet.

“Alright, heart attacks on a plate,” Dean cackled gleefully as he sat the tray down in the middle. He passed Castiel his basket and you snatched up your funnel cake with a loud smack of your lips. “You’re gonna give me some of that, Y/N, right?”

Your face twisted in aggression, your body curling around your plate as you claimed your territory. “Absolutely not,” you snarled. Cas shifted uneasily beside you which snapped you out of your daze, “But you can have some, Castiel.” Blue eyes met yours and his brow pinched with uncertainty.

“Oh, so you’ll give some to Cas and not me,” Dean growled, corndog shoved in his mouth and mustard dribbled down his chin.

“Yes,” you answered simply, cutting of a nice, big piece coated with the most sugar and biggest strawberry and held it up for Castiel to eat. The former angel frowned at you and looked to Dean before opening his mouth wide to let you choo-choo it in.

He chewed it slowly, considering its taste. Sugar outlined his mouth and a drip of syrup rested in the very center of his bottom lip. Without thinking, you swiped you thumb across it, shoving it into your mouth to lick off the excess. His eyes went wide, watching the finger disappear between your own sugared lips. “This is very good,” he said hoarsely when he finally managed to swallow.

You wiggled your eyebrows in victory and pointed to his meal, “Clog those arteries, Cas.”

The rest of the afternoon was spent queuing in lines, you and Dean hogging the cotton candy. You did share a bit with Castiel for educational purposes, but most of it was shoved shamelessly into your mouth.

“You two are going to throw up,” Sam grimaced as you headed closer to the Tilt-a-Whirl.

“That’s the fun of fairs,” you replied cheerfully, nudging Cas to make a mental note of it. “You stuff yourself full of bad food and then you get on all the rides so you can throw it up later!”

Cas shook his head, “That doesn’t sound like fun at all.”

“It is,” Dean winked, “you’ll love it.” Sam contradicted his brother with a silent shake of his head, but you were all ushered into your seats before the older brother could argue. And when the ride was over, you were hugging your stomach, looking a little paler and Dean shuffled slowly beside you.

“I told y-” Sam started but heated glares from the both of you had him holding his hands up and laughing.

Despite your aching stomachs, you and Dean drag the other two on the Teacups, the Falling Tower, even in the Haunted House. It was the Tunnel of Love that caught your eye, though, and not because you had anything romantic in mind, but it was a slow, easy ride that hid you from the harsh afternoon sun.

The boys fought over who would actually sit with you because it was the Tunnel of Love, after all, and you can’t go in with your brother without people raising eyebrows and they sure as hell didn’t want to ‘fall in love with Cas’. “You’re all idiots,” you exclaimed and pulled Cas into the small swan shaped boat.

“This ride doesn’t actually make humans fall in love, does it,” he asked you hesitantly.

You leaned back against the hard wooden frame, head tilted back as the tunnel’s cool air breezed over your sun kissed skin, “No, Cas. It’s an excuse for teenagers to make out in, though. Or older people to make out like teenagers.” There’s a deep rumble of thoughtfulness next you and you can feel Cas’s eyes on you. “You wanna make out with me,” you asked with one eye cracked open.

“I don’t know,” he answered. “That means kissing, right?”

“Yes,” you snorted.

His brow wrinkled and he nodded, “Yes.”

“Yes,” you repeated, surprised. You sat up and tilted your head, a smile split your face in two.

“Yes,” Cas said for the second time, “I’ve thought about kissing you before. I’ve watched you with the men that you’ve taken home from bars and…”

You held up a hand and blinked, “What do you mean you’ve watched me?”

“I was afraid that they might hurt you, so I kept watch,” Castiel explained, noting your sudden discomfort of the conversation. “I stopped watching when you… you know.”

“I am so glad you’re human now,” you groaned, bringing up your legs in the open bench seat and hid your face away. You felt a hand atop your knee and a gentle squeeze in timid comfort. “If you ever get your grace back, dude, please don’t ever watch me again,” you pleaded once you lifted your head.

Cas nodded, those deep blue eyes full of regret and understanding, “I promise.”

The ride finished without a makeout session, but you had forgiven Cas by the time you caught up with Sam and Dean. The sun was getting low and the fair’s lights slowly started to flicker on, the Ferris Wheel drawing everyone’s attention. “Last ride,” Sam warned you, so you tugged them along, waiting in the longest queue of the day.

“Snow Cones,” Dean whispered, pushing at your shoulder. “Wait here,” he instructed his brother and friend before dragging you over to the stand. While the ice did sound like a good idea in the warm summer evening, more sugar was going to make your veins explode.

“I dunno, Dean,” you patted your belly, “I don’t know if I can fit anymore.”

“Don’t be a wuss,” he egged you on and shoved you up to the counter. You order a small one, rainbow all the way and kicked Dean in the shin when you got your purchase and ran off to the safety of your friends.

“More sugar,” you told Cas, holding up the shaved ice settled in a paper cup. “Sweets for a sweetie,” you offer it to him, “just bite.” He looked from you to the colored ball of frost and scraped his teeth along to gather some with an approving hum. Dean soon joined you, tagging you on the back of your head when he returned and nearly had you spilling your treat. “Watch it!”

Cas frowned in disapproval at Dean, but the oldest Winchester smirked smugly and bite down hard on his snow. “For as much sugar as you consume, Dean, you can be sour,” he reprimanded, patting your shoulder and taking yet another bite of your snow cone.

“Are you really white knighting, Y/N, right now,” Dean snorted, the tip of his nose dyed blue from his flavoring.

“If that means I’m defending her, then yes,” Cas replied, his eyes, like yours and Sam’s, trained on the small spot of blue. “Dean,” he started, but you wrap a hand around his wrist and squeeze. How the three of you are holding a straight face, you’ll never know.

“What,” came the gruff reply accompanied by a frown.

“Nothing,” Cas replied casually, tearing his eyes away from his friend and back to you and the Snow Cone. You return the stare, both of you leaning in to take a bite and you tried not to choke on the flavored ice.

“What,” Dean asked pressingly.

“Line’s moved up,” Sam answered, pulling his brother along.

Dean eyed you all suspiciously, but he moved along with everyone else, digging back into his ice and coming out with an even bigger spot of blue. Sam’s jaw is clenched so hard you could hear his teeth starting to crack and you’re sure you’ve snorted some of your ice in an attempt to stop your laughter. But Castiel? He was standing there, smiling at the three of you, suddenly understanding what the significance of fair food was.

-

“Dammit,” Dean groaned the next day, waddling in from the bathroom, “Y/N!” Castiel looked up from the newspaper and tilted his head, his eyes shifting from Dean to you splayed out of the bed in nothing more than a thin cami and cotton shorts, looking just as uncomfortable as Dean with your cherry red skin.

“Shut up,” you spat, not able to move from your bed. It wasn’t fair, not really. All four of you were out in the sun all day and only you and Dean managed to get burned, even through all of your layers. “Your voice makes my skin hurt.”

“Your face makes my skin hurt,” Dan shot back, slowly climbing onto the bed next to you. The pair of you weakly slapped at each other from your prone positions and you felt the bed dip behind you.

“Sam said this might happen,” Castiel stated as he flipped open a cap of aloe. “He said I would need to rub this into your skin.”

Dean jerked his head up and immediately winced from the pain, “You’re not rubbing anything on me.”

“Shut up and enjoy it, jerk,” you hissed and twisted your head as much as you could to look at Castiel. “Rub it all over me, Cas, as deep as you can.”

The former angel flushed as bright as the pair of you, but set to work.

[parkerpeter24]

Hello!!! For headcanon week: can i get one with haz? And maybe he sees the reader on insta (maybe she was in a group photo of one of his friends or smth) and was like "omg she's pretty who is this?" Then he scrolls thru her profile and yeah I'll let your imagination run wild for the rest 😂💓

Ah, thanks for the request K, and congrats on 600 😘 also, let me just warn you, this sucks 🙈

———

#instalove♡

Harrison was scrolling through Instagram like he usually did before going to bed.

It was a daily thing, he checked his feed, refreshed the home page a few times.

He got bored easily as nothing new came up and decided to keep the phone aside and go to sleep.

Until

A picture popped up on his screen.

Tom had uploaded a few pictures of his latest photoshoot with the caption, “The pictures and the photographer @y/n_y/l/n.”

He swiped through all the pictures of his best mate to finally reach on the last one.

Tom was standing there, smiling next to the most beautiful girl Harrison has ever laid eyes upon.

He usually wasn’t the one to get an infatuation to someone he has just seen, but you, you were different.

You were wearing a simple shirt with a loose-fitting denim jacket. A pair of glasses over your beautiful (y/e/c) eyes and your hair were thrown back in a messy bun.

And he swore he had never seen anyone so simply beautiful.

He thought it was because of your breathtaking smile.

His lips pursed and his eyes grew a notch wide as he finally decided to click on your username.

The first thing that he saw as soon as your profile opened up was the beautiful sunset on a beach and the same breathtaking smile.

It was a little small though as it was your profile picture, but had the same effect on him anyway.

“(Y/n) (Y/l/n)” he read out loud. He liked how your name sounded from his mouth.

The first few posts on your account were filled with the pictures of flowers, sunsets and different kinds of animals.

But then he came across a video of you with your dog and you looked lovely sitting on a bench in the park.

“Rosie!” You called out, “Come on, Rosie! Time to go home”

That was the first time he heard your voice.

And just like that, he had decided to meet you.

And then one day he got the opportunity to.

Tom was hosting a party in the house and he got to know somehow that you were invited too.

He was happy, albeit a little nervous. He wore his best, best outfit that he could find in his closet.

Whereas you were never really the party-goer, you tried to stay inside most of the time, except when you had your camera and wanted to click pictures.

You picked out the most boring outfit you could find, to not be the centre of a single person’s attention at that party.

You met Tom there and, slowly as the party continued, reached a corner and stood there until your drink was finished.

Deciding to grab another, you left for the kitchen, but you bumped into someone on your way there.

Looking up to see a gorgeous man with bright blue eyes, you apologised for not paying attention.

“Oh no, it’s fine, really!” He smiled

“Do I know you?” You asked, “From somewhere?”

He laughed, “Not really, but I’ve been following you on Instagram for quite some time. The pictures you click are really beautiful.”

“Oh, wow. I did not expect this.”

You laugh, making him laugh along with you.

And just like that, a conversation picked up between you two and you found yourself sitting beside him and laughing at some lame jokes.

“I hate parties.” You admitted randomly.

“Do you want to get out of here?”

“What-- Would that be alright? I mean what if Tom--”

“Oh, come on, don’t be a wuss.” He laughed. You gave him an incredulous look as he pulled you along with him.

And soon you found yourself in a grocery store, near mid-night, buying sour candy and jelly beans as Harrison kept an ice-cream tub in your shopping trolley.

“I don’t even know why I agreed to elope the party with you.”

“Well, it’s fun what we’re doing, isn’t it?”

It was after midnight that you decided to go on a long drive to the nearest beach.

And sitting there under the moonlight on a short summer night, you shared your ice-cream tub, trying to get as much as you could in those little plastic spoons the store offered.

Both of you shared some stories from your childhood.

You told him why you love photography so much.

And none of you wanted to go back home. 

But the sun was already rising as he helped you up from your spot.

Then after a while standing there on your doorstep as he dropped you home, you leaned up to softly kiss his cheek.

“Thank you for the night --” You laughed, realising that you never caught his name, “Oh my god, I’m sorry, what’s your name?”

He smiled, “You’ll find out the next time we meet.”

You stood there, as he moved back towards his car, “What do you--”

“Don’t be late, I’ll pick you up today at seven.”

Permanent taglist: @angelsparkers @littlehealer @spideygirl2003 @tommysparker @smilexcaptainx @god-knows-what-am-i-doing @allegra-writes @rubberducky-jrr @purefluff @clara-licht @darlingspidey @anjali750 @opheliaaa @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh @the-crazy-fanfictionist @fanficparker @halfblood-princess-505 @chaoticpete @t-monosapiens-h @tom-holland-is-spiderman @stareyedplanet @sunflowerhollands @averyfosterthoughts @katiejupiter @theamazingtomholland @miraclesoflove @tombob2005 @starlight-starks

[stovetuna]

Hi, I hope you’re having a wonderful holiday season first of all! Second, if you’re feeling it, maybe Blind Date AU for Steve and Tony? Ty!!💖

PEACHY!! of course, darling, anything for you. Setting this in an amorphous MCU timeline again because I’m working on stretching my 616 writing muscles on another fic ;) 

- - - 

Steve knows it’s going to be a long night the moment he receives a text from Natasha that simply reads: Carbone. 1800. Wear the blue shirt.He’s tried—countless times, in fact—to dissuade her from doing this. It’s been a running joke between them for years, ever since that first time in the back of the C-130. 

Too scared? 

Too busy.

It’s not that he’s averse to the idea of being with someone. Far from it—he craves exactly that in ways he can’t articulate, not to Natasha, not to Sam, not to anyone. Sometimes, not even to himself. But the idea of dating, especially being set up on blind dates, makes something twist and sour in Steve’s stomach. The thought of being pushed into something despite his wishes because other people think it’s what he wants, or that dating is something expected of the unattached, is deeply upsetting. 

Plus, his life is complicated enough as it is. Adding an unsuspecting stranger to the mix would only complicate more. And how would he explain it to them, his life? How could he ask for understanding when what he does is so outside the scope of the average person’s day-to-day reality? How could he ask anyone to wait up for him, not knowing if he’d make it back to them alive? In what universe would that be fair to a partner? 

It’s not. That’s the point. Nor is it the point that he’s been nursing a crush on a certain someone on the team for the past year, a man so far out of his league it makes Steve’s head spin. That’s just background noise, at this point, an asterisk at the end of a sentence: Steve Rogers is not interested in dating.* 

*Unless your name happens to be Tony Stark.

Steve’s fingers hover over the phone screen, deliberating in his head how to respond to Nat’s text. The way she’s written it is different from her previous attempts at matchmaking. No so-and-so from such-and-such is nice, you should ask her out. I met this random guy during a raid yesterday, I got his number for you. Want it? This one’s come to him like a gift of flowers, beautifully arranged and packaged, leaving no way for him to bow out of it without coming across like an asshole. 

He shudders to imagine what Nat would have to text the person she’s trying to set him up with if he did: sorry, Captain America is a huge wuss. Feel free to order something to go, on me.

On the one hand, she means well. She knows Steve is lonely for companionship in ways his friends and the Avengers can’t satisfy. She might even know about his crush on Tony and this is her way of trying to help him past it. On the other hand, Nat is a notorious troll, and she could just be doing this to him for laughs. But it has been a long time since he’s gone on a date, even if he does hate the practice pretty much on the whole. One more for the sake of a stranger’s feelings won’t kill him. 

Fine, he texts back, but you’re my sparring partner for the next two weeks. 

Natasha’s response is so lightning fast it would make Thor dizzy.  

Worth it. 

Steve wears the blue shirt. He also goes to the effort of ironing his black slacks and polishing his dress shoes, because he knows Carbone’s reputation as the kind of place one goes to make an impression and/or be impressed. Tony talks about it all the time. “Oh my God, Steve, their spicy rigatone alla vodka is so good, it’s actually sinful,” he’d told him once. Steve had watched Tony’s eyes glaze over and his tongue slowly slide out to lave his bottom lip, obviously salivating at the thought of some random pasta dish, and it had taken just about everything in Steve’s power not to launch himself across the kitchen counter and chase Tony’s tongue with his. 

“I’m sure I’ll try it at some point,” he’d replied instead, pinching his thigh hard enough to dissuade his blood from flowing further south. 

At 4:30, Steve looks himself over in the full-length mirror in his bedroom. The black jacket seems overbearing for early summer, and he wonders if it’s worth keeping on. Should he bring it just in case? Is the tie too much? It feels like too much, especially after thinking about Tony and his tongue. Now he’s hot under the collar, about to go on a date with someone else. Damn it. Steve wrenches the black silk knot loose and pulls the whole thing off. It goes on the bed, along with the jacket. He unbuttons his shirt to the clavicle and rolls up the sleeves. (Tony has visibly admired his forearms enough times for Steve to make a deliberate habit of it.)

But Tony flirts with everyone, Steve reminds himself, and then he’s out the door. He opts to walk across town and down 12th Avenue, what should be a long walk along the Hudson shortened considerably by his long legs and enhanced speed. It’s one of those beautiful New York days, long, late May sunlight lingering in the clear blue sky even as Steve turns the corner onto Thompson Street at 5:45. It’s breezy but not chilly, warm but not stifling. People are everywhere, happy, flushed and bubbling over with spring fever. Even the hardened locals aren’t immune to it—Steve spots a grizzled bar owner just down the street who’s leaning against an old brownstone, face tipped up toward the sky, lips pulled tight in a barely contained smile. 

It reminds Steve distinctly of Tony, how his eyes crease deeply at the corners when he grins.

You’re supposed to be nervous about this date, Steve reminds himself as he opens the door to the restaurant. He’s immediately enveloped in dark tones of bluish green and the smooth voice of Frank Sinatra. He’s early, but the staff brings him through immediately to an intimate but decently large corner table in the back. A waiter, bald-headed but sporting an impressive mustache and wearing the hell out of a purple three-piece suit, pours Steve a glass of champagne and another for his date, who’s starting to cut it close, time-wise. 

At 5:56, Steve glances at his watch and takes a sip of water, opting to watch the bubbles in the champagne glass rise to the surface and pop instead of drinking it outright. At 6:08, the same waiter refills his water glass. They make small talk even as Steve fidgets under the tablecloth. In all of his gearing up for this blind date, the thought had never crossed his mind that the other person might be the one to duck out. 

Averse to dating as Steve is, he can’t say the thought of being stood up on a blind date doesn’t sting a little bit, even as it drives home his rationale for avoiding the entire practice in the first place. At least he’ll have ammunition against Natasha the next time she tries her hand at matchmaking. 

By 6:20, the back room is filled and noisy with other dinner guests, many of whom are also on dates and are doing a terrible job of pretending not to glance pityingly at Steve and the two untouched champagne glasses on his table. Steve sighs and shrugs at the waiter (his name is Duncan, Steve learned during Refill Number Three), who’s come by to refill his water glass again. How many does that make? Five? Six? Duncan glances at the empty seat across from Steve and shakes his head.

“It happens,” he says, genuine sympathy (but mercifully no pity) writ large across his middle-aged face. “In any case, you probably dodged a bullet. Want something a little stronger?”

Steve remembers telling Tony he’d try the spicy rigatoni alla vodka if he ever came here. Reservations to Carbone are hard to come by, and he should seize the opportunity while he can, even if it’s bittersweet. “Thanks. That’s okay. I think I’ll just—”

A man’s flustered voice appears suddenly from behind Duncan, cutting through the noise, words spilling out in a rush. Steve notices heads whipping around to gawk, bug-eyed, at whoever’s just appeared.

“God, I’m so sorry I’m late, usually I’m never late to this kind of thing but there was a malfunction with the—with the thing, and…I…uh…”

The man’s words trail off as Duncan steps aside to let him through to his seat. Steve is standing—when did he stand up?—and realizes with a jolt (and an unmistakable, overwhelming ka-thump of his heart) that he’s looking directly at Tony Stark, whose face has gone an endearingly bright shade of red, almost the same shade as the armor. 

“Steve?”

“Uh,” Steve is too distracted by the furious blush currently working its way past Tony’s pristine white shirt collar to respond at first. “Hi, Tony. Wanna, uh, have a seat?” Nailed it. 

“Sure…” Tony sounds skeptical. That’s fair. He’s probably already sussed out that this date wasn’t Steve’s idea. 

Duncan, to his credit, says nothing as he fills Tony’s water glass. But Steve doesn’t miss the warning look the waiter shoots him as Tony tips his head back for a drink, or the way Tony’s face goes slightly pale as he sets the glass back down on the table, chastised. 

Once they’re alone, the other diners seem to quickly get over the initial shock of seeing Iron Man and Captain America on a date together and go back to their own meals. The air in the room is fragrant with the smell of four-star Italian food, but Steve’s stomach is too tightly wound now to appreciate it. 

Tony breaks the silence. He always was braver than Steve gave him credit for. 

“So,” he says, “Going by your poleaxed expression I take it you weren’t expecting me.”

It’s not a question. Steve laughs hoarsely. “Yeah, you could say that.” More like you’re the last person I expected but I am so fucking happy you’re here. He doesn’t say it, but at least Tony looks more relaxed now. Smiling, they both take a sip of champagne simultaneously.

“D’you think Nat and Clint placed bets on whether or not one of us would cancel?” Steve asks. Tony laughs outright. Not for the first time, Steve watches Tony break out into a smile and wonders if the heat he feels is a blush or the fact that looking at Tony when he’s grinning like that is like looking at the sun—bright and dangerous and so unbelievably warm. Steve takes another drink of champagne to calm himself.

“Well, since they know you and I are so stubborn we’d both rather show up for a pre-arranged blind date at one of the most-booked restaurants in the city than flake, I’d say the bet’s based on whether or not we appear in the communal kitchen tomorrow morning together or separately.” 

Steve chokes on bubbles. Tony laughs again. 

“Hickies optional, obviously,” he says gamely, winking at Steve, whose shoulders are creeping up toward his ears. “We could just muss ourselves up before we get home and they’d never know the difference.” 

“Tony, they’re literally professional spies. Of course they’d know.” 

“I have my ways, Cap. Do not doubt my ways.”

“I don’t doubt your ways, Tony,” Steve manages from behind the sudden tightness in his throat, “But we’re talking about Natasha Romanoff.”

“You mean the woman who almost gave you a hard-on when she kissed you on an escalator in D.C.?” 

Tony is still laughing gleefully (while Steve’s burning face is still buried in his hands) when Duncan arrives with two oversized menus. Steve waves at Tony when he offers to order for them, too embarrassed at having learned that Tony knows about the D.C. incident to speak for himself, at least for the moment. Besides, Tony knows everything he likes. (Well, almost everything.) 

They breeze past awkward and straight into comfortable after that. Tony apologizes for being late again and Steve shuts him up with bread. 

“Eat this and you can work it off with me later.” 

Tony waggles his eyebrows at him and says, “Promise, Cap?” with a gleam in his eye that Steve resolutely does not read into.

“In the gym, Tony.”

The food is delicious and borderline excessive, coming in wave after wave along with wine and bread and cheese and free courses compliments of the chef, and by the second hour of their meal even Steve’s increased metabolism is starting to feel sluggish. Of course, that’s when Duncan places a massive, beautiful, steaming bowl of rigatoni alla vodka on their table. The smell of it alone is enough to rouse him. 

“Holy shit,” Steve whispers as he ducks his head over the bowl to catch a bigger whiff of the red pepper-and-cream sauce, just loud enough he knows Tony will hear him. The other man giggles. It’s too fucking cute. Steve has to remind himself for the millionth time that this is not actually a date, because the words are right on the tip of his tongue.

“I told you!”

“Yeah, you did,” Steve answers, smiling at Tony as warmly and happily as he feels. This isn’t a real date, but he’s still having a fantastic dinner with his best friend and crush, so it’s a fun, memorable night for him either way. Steve dishes a heaping spoonful of rich, glossy pasta onto Tony’s plate first, too preoccupied to notice Tony glancing at his mouth before he takes another drink of light red wine (the price of which Duncan didn’t mention and at this point Steve doesn’t want to know). 

“I like the look you’ve got going on, by the way. Very devil-may-care. How long did it take you to decide against the jacket and tie?” Tony asks once Steve’s finished doling out pasta for himself. God, it’s so easy to laugh with Tony. The man is hilarious, sure, but little things like that—things that only Tony would think to ask Steve because they know each other so well and he likes making fun of Steve’s idiosyncrasies, likes making Steve loosen up and laugh at himself—make Steve feel like the champagne he drank earlier: bubbly, light, happy. 

He could spend five, six, ten more hours at this table. He could spend all of his time with Tony Stark and it still wouldn’t be enough. But there is only so much of himself and his time Tony seems willing to give, romantically or otherwise, and Steve’s made his peace with that. Mostly. 

It does help that Tony seems willing to give Steve a lot of his time anyways.

And no one—not even Tony—will know if Steve indulges himself by pretending, if only for a minute or two, that actually is a date.

“Only a few seconds. Natasha did the lion’s share of the work picking the shirt out for me,” Steve replies, blowing gently on his forkful of pasta, saliva pooling in the back of his mouth as he watches the steam trail off it before taking a bite. “Why, do you think I should have kept th—oh my god,” he groans mid-sentence, eyes rolling up into his head. Chewing slowly, Steve claps a hand over his mouth to muffle the lewd moan that threatens to escape him as bold, decadent flavors burst on his tongue. Tony was right—this stuff is sinful. 

Steve’s so wrapped up in the food he’s eating that he almost, almost misses Tony muttering Jesus under his breath. It doesn’t sound embarrassed or insulted. When he opens his eyes, Steve finds Tony watching him so avidly, it’s hard to notice anything else other than the way the man’s pupils have dilated considerably and is leaning forward, almost over the bowl. 

Tony licks his lips. Steve tries hard not to stare. 

“Sorry,” he says with a chuckle in an attempt to diffuse tension, “but that stuff is ridiculously good.” Steve’s really glad he didn’t wear the tie now, given how hot under the collar he feels all of a sudden. Tony’s looked at him a lot of ways, but never like that—like the only thing stopping him from launching himself across the table at Steve is the table, itself. “I can see why you’re always raving about it.” 

“Steve,” Tony says. He hasn’t touched his pasta. The fork is just kind of there in his hand, like he’s forgotten he’s even holding it. Steve looks at him again. 

“What? Did I get some on my face?” he asks, retrieving his napkin and wiping his mouth with it. Tony makes a rough, strangled sound in the back of his throat and, when drowning it with wine doesn’t help, puts his fork all the way down on the table and buries his face in his hands. 

“I can’t do this,” Tony whines. The conversations happening around them are loud, but not so loud Steve doesn’t hear him say it. The words cut him like a cold knife sharply through the middle. His head feels woozy, and not in the airy fun way it should be after drinking good wine for two and a half hours. How did things end up here so quickly? A minute ago Steve was having a religious experience and now Tony face is ashen and drawn. He looks like he wants to be anywhere but here. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Oh god,” Tony groans, “please, do not apologize. It’s me. It’s very much me.” 

This seems like a fork-down conversation. Steve places his on the table and tries not to glance longingly at the pasta on his plate. Steve knows when Tony is gathering himself to speak, which is exactly what’s happening now, so he waits  and doesn’t eat. He does take a drink, though. That much feels appropriate.

“Just so I’ve got it right,” Tony finally says after an unbearably quiet moment, a palm pressed against his own forehead, “you definitely had zero input vis à vis this whole blind date setup?” 

He’s deliberately not looking at Steve when he asks it. If Steve could put a word to his expression, he’d say Tony looks downright despondent at the idea, even if they’d already established earlier that yes, this thing was entirely Nat’s idea because she’s an unrepentant troll. 

The dissonance doesn’t make sense. But it does put hope in Steve’s heart where there wasn’t any before. 

“I didn’t,” he says, watching Tony’s face intently. He knows it so well at this point, he can tell when Tony’s smile is fake or real, when he’s wounded and won’t admit it, when he’s tired but can’t sleep. So Steve notices all too easily when the corner of Tony’s mouth dips down, a fraction of an inch of a frown, before he recovers with a laugh and claps his hands. 

“All good then,” Tony chuckles, but he won’t look Steve in the eye anymore. He picks up his fork and starts to tuck in, chewing so fast it’s like he’s racing toward a finish line Steve can’t see and doesn’t know how to keep from approaching, except—

“Why,” Steve blurts out, stopping Tony mid-chew, “were you hoping I did?” 

Tony’s eyes fly open but are heavily guarded when he looks back at Steve from across the table. No take-backs, Steve tells himself. 

Tony puts down his fork again. 

“What if I did?” he counters. 

“You can’t answer my question with a question, Tony,” Steve says, smirking when Tony’s expression flickers. 

“Watch me.”

“I am.” 

“Steve.”

“Tony.”

Tony huffs. Before he can cross his arms defensively, before either of them can think another thought, Steve reaches out with both hands, pulls Tony forward by the front of his too-nice shirt and kisses him, fast and firm and warm. The kiss is a point being made more than anything else, but a point nonetheless. 

Tony’s lips are yielding and taste faintly of wine and carpaccio piemontese. Kissing him feels more right than Steve could have imagined (and he’d imagined a lot, elaborately and often). One peck and he knows without a doubt he could kiss Tony for hours. But that’s all besides the point. The point is now, Tony knows. 

Before he can pull away and apologize (again) for his behavior, Steve feels more than hears Tony sigh against his lips. Then Tony tilts his head a fraction and suddenly Steve’s the one being kissed. Thoughts of anything alla vodka fly out of his head in a rush as Tony licks the closed seam of his lips and tongues him deep and slow when they open. Steve’s fingers are still grasping the front of the Tony’s shirt; he knows he should release him and stop this while things are still relatively PG. Instead Tony nibbles on his bottom lip and Steve releases that lewd moan he’d held back a few minutes ago right into Tony’s mouth. 

Steve has just enough brainpower left to remember that 1) they’re surrounded by onlookers, and 2) if they keep going like this, Duncan’s going to have to throw them out. Would that really be such a bad thing, his lizard brain supplies, unhelpfully. 

Decided, Steve lets go of Tony’s shirt with a gasp. They both fall back into their chairs with a whoosh. Between them, the steam rising off the rigatoni alla vodka swirls, disturbed by the sudden breeze, then continues curling lightly upwards like nothing out of the ordinary has happened. Like Steve’s entire life wasn’t just irrevocably changed, upended, by a single kiss. 

Picking up his fork, Steve licks the taste of Tony from his lips as he looks across the table at his date and takes another bite of pasta. Tony looks back. He looks hungry. 

“What did I tell you,” Tony says when Steve moans softly again. This time, he doesn’t miss the way Tony stares lingeringly at his mouth like he wants another taste. “Sinful.”

- - -

Send me an AU prompt! 

[softysuho]

Armor

A/N: it's been awhile since I've written s o-

Genre: Werewolf!AU, Series

Pairing: Chanyeol x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of blood/torture

Summary: Chanyeol had watched his friends find their mates, watching as their smiles became ten times brighter than before. The pairs practically swallowing their other half in front of the beta wolf. It had been 5 years since Chanyeol's 20th birthday, the only wolf in the entire pack to have not found his other half the night of the celebration. He knew she was out there, he could feel her emotions, a dull throbbing in his heart when she was sad or stressed. The flutters when she was happy. However, he never expected to find her on enemy lines.

Links to chapters are on the masterlist

•••

You silently picked at the sleeves of your oversized hoodie, head down as you listened intently to your Alpha. Ravi had been your Alpha for a little less than three years, taking the position of your father. Ravi had been your fathers beta, a good one at that. You and Ravi practically grew up together by the hip, some even thought that when he turned 20, you would end up being mates. Nope. Maybe that's why your father had given up his position to the 22 year old Ravi before his passing. You had never wanted the position anyways, stress never looked good on you and you were sure that somehow, and someway, you would fuck it up.

Ravi was good playing the Alpha role. He was strong, tall and handsome. His mate, Jane, was equally as stunning. She was a breath of fresh air for your pack, her kindness had lifted the spirits of many at the loss of your father. She had become one of your good friends, her and Ravi loved you dearly, respected and valued your opinions in meetings like these.

A new pack had moved into the next town over. One just barely larger than the one your father had kept together. To say you were nervous was an understatement. The way Ravi spoke about this pack made your stomach churn in all the wrong ways. You winced as his hand came crashing down in front of your figure, making you still and slowly meet the red eyes you had only ever seen one other time. Ravi was pissed, pissed at you for something you were unsure of.

"I expect an answer when I'm speaking to you Y/n." You let out a soft sigh, eyes wandering over to Leo who looked at you with soft eyes. "We've never had a pack move this close to us, everyone knows how bloody we make can make things for others when they step out of line. So tell me, why do you think this pack moved in?" You couldn't help but roll your eyes. Why was it a big deal? The pack could be peaceful.

"How the fuck should I know? I can't read the minds of others, dumbass." A growl ripped across the room, Ravi's knuckles turning white as he stared down at you.

"Y/n. I get we used to be best friends-"

"Used to?" You laughed, leaning back in your chair. "Used to be best friends? How about this Alpha, you can lay the fuck off. I don't know if you remember, but you're only in this position because of me. So don't you dare try and use your 'Alpha authority' on me. I don't know why the pack moved in, maybe they saw an open place and decided to take it because they needed more space." You crossed your arms, staring up at Ravi. Yeah okay. Maybe you lied about the respect and value. Maybe you lied about them caring for you anymore. But sometimes it's nicer to think of how it used to be.

Ravi inhaled sharply, stomping back up to the front of the room where drawings of the boarders were. "I'd watch that mouth of yours Y/n." He rolled his shoulders, Leo shaking his head disapprovingly at his Alpha's behavior.

"Maybe Y/n is right. Maybe their numbers increased and they needed a bigger space for their pack. They could be harmless." Leo spoke softly, his eyes never leaving yours as he spoke. Leo was a nice man, his cold appearance was always intimidating to outsiders. Maybe that's why you both seemed to be the others escape when things got rough. You had spent countless nights crying into his shoulder. Whether it be for your fathers passing or Ravi's new attitude towards you. Jane, well, she was a nice girl. She was your friend, and she did respect you. But she couldn't show you an ounce of kindness when Ravi was around. Sometimes it seemed like he blacklisted you to the pack, only keeping you here because of your fathers old position. But Leo was different. The only comfort that you have left in this pack.

"Can you stop sucking Y/n's dick for five minutes Leo." Ravi groaned, rubbing his temple. "You're not mates, so stop acting like it." Leo stood up at that, hand planting firmly on the table as he took a deep breath.

"Why don't you stop being an asshole to the girl you used to do everything with. Grow a pair and realize you miss when we would all hang out and watch movies all night. Maybe then you'll stop being a fucking prick." Kicking his chair back, Leo stomped out of the room, his back tense with anger.

"I think we should talk about the pack later, when we've all calmed down." Hyuk spoke. He was the problem solver, a good one at that. His soft hair fell over his eyes as he looked your way and then to Ravi. "The other pack can wait."

You stood from your chair slowly, bowing towards Ravi before you made your way out. "I miss when you used to smile at stupid things Ravi." You whispered as the door closed behind you.

•••

Chanyeol groaned loudly, whining as Jongdae pushed him out of the way in attempt to reach the house before the others. "Junmyeon gets the large room Dae!" He yelled, watching his mate run after him. 'Sinners' his wolf snickered. Junmyeon patted the giants back, pushing him towards the house.

"I'm giving you the big room on the top floor, that way you don't have to be around all the... ya know-" Chanyeol cut the Alpha off, shaking his head in annoyance.

"You're the Alpha Jun, you and Suzy deserve the room." Chanyeol shook off the males arm, beginning to walk towards the house. Knowing full well, Junmyeon was going to force him to take the room.

"Maybe the new location will be good for you!" Junmyeon called out behind him, laughing when Chanyeol flipped him the birdie.

The rest of the day was spent attempting to get settled in, but the constant dull sensation of fear and sadness kept filling his limbs. It became a normal feeling after a year, the sadness from his mate and the fear that seemed to come once the sadness settled. He had no idea what was wrong with his mate. He didn't know where she was, if she was okay. It killed to know she was out there, without him. He wanted to know what her scent is, he wanted to know how soft her hair is, he wanted to know her. He didn't want to feel just her emotions anymore, he wanted to feel her. In his embrace, in his clothes, with his mark placed in the soft spot between her shoulder and neck.

His eyes closed, trying to make the sadness diminish. He wondered if she could feel his longing, his happiness when he thought of a future with his unknown mate. He wanted her to feel something other than the normal: fear, sadness and calm.

Baekhyun had knocked softly on Chanyeol's door, mumbling something about a pack meeting before he disappeared from behind the door. His guess was that a group was going to go on a patrol tonight. Scope out the borders around the human village that some pack families moved into, as well as the giant forest that surrounded the giant pack house.

He mumbled to himself, rubbing his eyes roughly as his feet padded down the wooden steps. As the second in command, Chanyeol was never allowed to miss a meeting. His input was always needed and he had to make decisions when his Alpha couldn't decide. His blonde hair was pulled back with a thick white headband, tank top hanging loosely on his shoulders, most definitely not dressed properly for a pack meeting. Chanyeol plopped down in the chair next to Junmyeon, nodding in the direction of his 11 brothers sitting patiently around the giant table. "Well, shall we start?" Junmyeon spoke, turning towards the giant bulletin board. "The neighboring pack, Blood Rise, is no joke."

It went on for what seemed like hours, Junmyeon not only discussing how we should somewhat fear the pack, but also boarder patrol groups. And he just happened to get stuck with Sehun and Jongdae. The biggest wusses that jump at their own shadows. "You're kidding." Chanyeol rubbed his face, leaning forward on the table as the latter glared at the giant.

"Nope, deal with it Yeol." Baekhyun laughed, swinging his arm over Kyungsoo's shoulders. Pulling a sour face, Kyungsoo flicked Baekhyun's arm off before crossing his arms.

"Why am I stuck with him again? Last time I check, Baek doesn't even know how to put on his underwear correctly." Kyungsoo eyed Baekhyun before turning back to Junmyeon.

"There's no tags okay! And it was one time! Damn, you put underwear on backwards and suddenly your stupid."

"You are stupid Baek." Jongin called out, giggling to himself silently.

"Would you all shut up, Yeol, Dae and Hun, go patrol before I beat you with a wooden spoon." Junmyeon laughed, running a hand through his hair as he pointed towards the door.

"No balls!" Jongdae yelled as he dashed from the room.

[kookadoodle]

Sweets & Sours

PLOT: Y/N tries to convince the biggest scaredy-cat she knows that Halloween is actually pretty cool.

PAIRING: Hoseok x reader GENRE: mostly fluff, a pinch of comedy, Halloween!AU WARNINGS: none, ironically WORDCOUNT: 4.7k A/N: hobi is so precious, i can’t handle it x

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Finally, the day has come, and you cannot hide the fact that you are overly excited. Not that you try to hide it exactly but being especially enthusiastic for Halloween is not really common in your age group. Or it is, but not in the obsessive kind of way that you show, when you act like a child on Christmas morning. Christmas is great and all, but a big fatty in a red costume does not top the horrors and grunge that is Halloween. It might make you sound a bit psychotic (apologies) but you love the gore, the blood and the people dressed in all things dead. October 31st is not to be wasted on a simple night in, watching a few movies and eat popcorn like all your friends normally do on the anniversary (if they even bother doing anything). Oh no. It is to be wasted on something else entirely. Something so horrific that you laugh from the pure fear of it. Or at least something that will just make you laugh for fun. But laughter is at its best when shared, which shows you a disadvantage, considering your best friend of them all, who you want to spend the day with, is the biggest scaredy-cat that you know. Jung Hoseok. 

Hoseok is pure sunshine, always dressed in the brightest colors and a smile on his pretty face. He is goofy, he is sweet, yet he has the tiniest set of balls, when it comes to horror. Every time that you convince him to watch a scary movie with you, he hides behind his hands and shrieks at the slightest of sound sent his way. He refuses to play thrilling games with you, and at the sight of blood, the poor boy turns pale as a sheet of paper. He is most likely a lost cause in the land of Halloween. But trying to convince him that the holiday does not have to be gut-emptying horrific is at least worth a try. That is why you find yourself knocking on his door vigorously on a Wednesday morning at 9 am. “Hoseok! Open up!” you yell through the crack of the closed door, and it muffles your voice in its contact. You keep knocking, begging for him to move faster than the zombie-like pace he is presumably moving at - at least he is already a bit in the Halloween spirit. You know that the constant nagging sound of your fist against his door would annoy him on any other day, but Hoseok is well aware of your gore-obsession and lets you have this one. Finally, the door opens. “Y/N, come in,” he says tiredly, barely opening his sleep-deprived eyes to look at your smiling face. “No, come out,” you state, making him halt in his movements. He lifts his head and squints at you with a sigh. “Have you seen me?” he asks, referring to the dark teal pajama he is wearing. “It’s Halloween, you can go out in anything, and we’ll just say it’s your costume,” you plead excitedly, but you know that it is a bit of a reach. Hoseok might have the most controversial fashion sense, but he definitely cares a lot for it. The pajama is better in your eyes than those ugly shorts he always wears, but since it is autumn, he will not be able to wear them anyways. It is really a win-win. “Okay, but hurry and get ready, we have things to do today!” you say as you step inside, letting him close the door behind you. “Things?” he questions, unknowing of all the plans you have made on behalf of you both. You do not take off your shoes or coat, trying to signal to him that you want to get going as soon as possible. You nod eagerly at his questioning. “Yes, things,” you smile while wriggling your brows, which has him nervous to his stomach. “Y/N, no, please! I don’t like that stuff,” he complains, rubbing his face in his hands with frustration. You step towards him and tug at his wrists to unveil his worried features. “It is not what you think it is, I have planned something fun, I promise,” you explain, and he looks at you with that yeah, right expression. You sigh. “Jung Hoseok, as my best friend you will do this for me!” you scold him. You refuse to let him cancel everything without giving it a chance. “I want to prove to you that Halloween can be fun,” you add with a pout. He looks at you for a moment before he sighs to himself. “We can make a deal,” he starts, and you let go of his wrists to cross your arms. “I’ll come with you today and do everything you want us to do, but if I still hate Halloween at the end of it, I never have to do that stuff with you again,” Hoseok says determined, wanting to compromise, but also hoping to find a way out of his obligation. You do this to him every year, but ever since that one time, when he peed his pants in a haunted house as a kid, he has refused to indulge in anything horror-related with you. You ended up having to trick-or-treat by yourself that year, and it really just was not the same without him. “Yes!” you say, pumping your fist in the air. “Don’t get too excited, you might not convince me,” he states, reminding you of the terms of agreement. “I’m not worried,” you then say back confidently. You gently squeeze his cheeks with your thumbs, making him smile. He suddenly grabs your wrists and looks at you dead in the eye. “But Y/N, I swear to God. Do not kill me today!” Hoseok states seriously, making you stumble over laughing. “Oh, but it is Halloween, my friend,” you tease back, and he already regrets having agreed to this. He silently prays to higher powers for a way out, but sadly, God is not available today. He is probably out trick-or-treating for sweets and sours himself.

---------------------------------

It takes a little while to drive to the location, but Hoseok interrogating you along the way about where you are going, is not going to make the trip seem any shorter. “Can you at least tell me if I should expect any of our friends or if it’s just the two of us?” the boy asks, tugging at the sleeves of his blue Balenciaga hoodie. You advised against him wearing the shirt on this occasion, but apparently, a clothing item that expensive must be used at all opportunities. You just hope, he will not be mad at you if the shirt takes a few hits today. It is out of your hands, really. The fact that he looks like a dolphin-trainer, however, almost makes you wish you could even hit it a few times yourself. “Namjoon and Yoongi-oppa will meet us there,” you say, watching the boy in your peripheral vision. “Oh, cool,” he says, but his expression does not match his positive wording. It surprises you a bit, considering the mentioned are his very closest friends, and you had expected him to be happy about their presence. He probably is, though, he might just be nervous. Suddenly, a loud ring sounds through the car speakers, setting Hoseok off into a piercing girly shriek. You cannot believe your ears at the sound. “Woah,” he says relieved, clutching his heart, even though it was a false alarm. “Will you calm your ass down?” you scold through a laugh, entertained by your friend’s sensitive nature as you adjust the radio. “We aren’t even there yet,” you add, big grin plastered on your face. Hoseok only returns it with a nervous laugh straining his features. Oh dear lord, I’m going to die today, he thinks to himself, clearly overexaggerating. His palms are already sweaty, and he fears that you might take his hand to console him at some point, so he tries to keep a cool surface. Not easy, he might add. He was even surprised when the seatbelt almost slapped back at him, but he managed to keep his pounding heart enough at bay to not be obvious. You think, he is a big enough baby as it is, he does not need you to know about him being scared half to death by his own seatbelt. Normally, he would be a lot calmer, but this holiday just always has him on edge. He hates the unknown, and knowing what this kind of unknown might entail, leaves him an even bigger mess. “I’m fine,” he says aloud, mostly to himself, but you take it as a reply to your statement. “And you’ll be fine, don’t worry,” you add to that, wanting to soothe his anxious state. You try to be understanding, but you cannot help how it amuses you to see him so freaked out. He is such a wuss, and you kind of love him for that.

--------------------------------------

You arrive at the carnival, and Hoseok’s eyebrows rise as his sight falls upon it, stepping out of the car. “So, a Halloween festival?” he asks, looking over at you and finding you with the biggest smile on your face, shoulders wiggling with excitement, eyes gleaming with joy. “Don’t judge it yet!” you state firmly, pointing at him to underline your seriousness. The smile tugging at your lips makes you less scary, but Hoseok bows down to you nonetheless. “Hit me with your best shot,” he says, but immediately regrets. “Actually, just hit me with like -- your most decent shot,” he corrects, not wanting to give you any crazy ideas, which has you giggling. You lock the car and the two of you start walking towards the entrance of the carnival. “Just make sure not to drink anything today,” you tease him, seeing his face falter. “Not funny,” he says dryly, causing you to burst into laughter. You wrap his arm around your own, pulling a defeated Hoseok along with you. He does not feel prepared for this. Luckily, his mood seems to change a bit, when you meet the two boys at the entrance. “Namjoon, are my eyes deceiving me?” Yoongi says, squinting his eyes for dramatic effect as you both approach them. Namjoon already chuckles. “Did she really get Hoseok to come? On Halloween?” Yoongi adds, and Hoseok shakes his head in embarrassment. “Yeah, yeah, get it all out now,” Hoseok says, dreading the teasing comments from his friends. Yoongi only scoffs as he pulls in the two of you for a quick greeting hug. “I’m teasing,” he says, ruffling Hoseok’s dark hair. Namjoon mirrors his hyungs greeting as well. “Good you’re finally here, so we can go inside,” he says with a sigh. “We have only been waiting for 20 minutes or so,” he adds. You find it a bit funny that Namjoon is the one scolding you for being late, since he always forgets everything and has to go back for it. “Did you remember your wallet today?” you ask him, reminding him of the time he made you all wait for two hours as he searched for his wallet, only to find it in his back pocket. “Fair enough,” he chuckles bashfully. The four of you walk towards the entrance and each buy a ticket that will allow you to take part in anything your hearts desire. You step through to the carnival with nervousness in your stomach, but clear excitement cursing through your veins. The boys might not know that this is really a carnival for kids (courtesy of Hoseok’s innocent mind), but Halloween is Halloween nevertheless, and you intend on enjoying it to the fullest. Hopefully, the boys will not hate you for it.

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As you start making your way around the festival, you see a light frown on Yoongi’s face. You can tell that he is starting to put the pieces together, and you fear that he might blurt out something unfortunate. Hoseok may be a scaredy-cat, but he still has his pride, and if he finds out that you dragged him to a kids’ carnival, it sure is going to plummet. So, in attempt to savior your best friend, you pull Yoongi aside, letting Namjoon and Hoseok walk ahead to subtly be excluded from the conversation. “Y/N, what is this place? Why are there so many children here?” Yoongi asks with a knowing look, seeming disappointed with the outcome of him using his money carelessly. The tickets were not expensive, but the boy really values his cash and probably would not have spent it on a place like this in a million years, if he had known. “I know, I’m sorry, but I need Hoseok to have a nice time for once on Halloween. He cannot know what this place really is, since he will think, I’m babying him,” you try to explain, hoping he will be sympathetic with your good intentions. The boy laughs dumbfoundedly. “But you are babying him, he is a grown man, he can take a scare,” Yoongi says. You look ahead, seeing your best friend trying to dodge a leaf falling towards him, like it is a bomb being dropped on his head. “Uh, have you met him?” you ask, looking back at him with furrowed brows. Having seen Hoseok’s movements as well, Yoongi sighs in defeat. “Yeah, I see your point,” he finally says. You link your arm with Yoongi’s, smiling at his agreement. “So, could you just act along for my sake?” you ask as you look at him with pleading eyes. Usually, Yoongi would not fall for such an act, but when it comes to you, all three of the boys turn to mush. The boy nods. “But you so owe me for this one,” he states firmly, still in disbelief of where he is spending the holiday this year. “Thank you, thank you,” you softly squeal as you pull him in for a quick side hug, causing him to shake his head. You look up to see the signs that point to the different activities and call for the boys that walk ahead. “This way,” you say and lead them towards the first event. The pumpkin patch. The first thing that comes to mind, when thinking of Halloween decors, is the classic carved pumpkin. You simply cannot skip it. You might not get to keep the pumpkin afterwards, since you are supposed to leave it at the festival as décor, but the activity itself is quite fun. The four of you enter the field and start searching for the perfect pumpkins for your wanted design. Yoongi and Namjoon quickly decide to share one, most likely caused by Yoongi’s disinterest, but still, he plays along. “Y/N, wanna share one?” Hoseok asks as he comes up beside you. You meet his eyes, and you realize where you are with him and immediately feel grateful for him being here with you. You really do not have the right to force him to do anything, but Hoseok, being a good friend, always complies anyways. You are thankful for that. For him. “Sure,” you smile softly, and he mirrors it. For a moment, it seems as if the lightest of blushes settles on his cheeks, but his face disappears from view, when he bends down to check on the different orange options at your feet. You join him in his crouched position, scanning your eyes across the vegetables. “This one is nice,” Hoseok says gently, running his hand over its surface, inspecting it. “I like it,” you agree, looking at the perfectly rounded and unbruised shape. He looks at you, and suddenly, you feel a bit giddy under his gaze. “Me too,” he says, eyes locked on your features.

After choosing your pumpkins, you head to the crafting area to begin carving your designs. There are mostly children at the table, and you dread that the sight will make Hoseok realize why. However, to your surprise, the boy seems oblivious, since he is not nearly observant enough to take notice. He simply sits down beside you and starts gathering the needed tools to use. “What should we make?” Hoseok asks, laying out the tools before you both. He then looks at you and waits patiently as if he will agree with anything you will suggest. You sigh, wondering. “Well, you can never go wrong with just the classic design?” you say, not really having the highest expectations to either of your skill sets. Knowing the two of you, it will probably end up a complete mess, if you actually attempt on doing something original. “Yeah, sure,” Hoseok smiles as he grabs one of the tools to begin. Looking across from you, Yoongi and Namjoon have already started emptying out their shared pumpkin. The sight is absolutely a prize to behold. Their arms are tangled together inside it as they had slightly misjudged the size of the opening, while they bicker like a married couple. Apparently, they cannot agree on who should pull out their hand first, since neither of them can really budge theirs at all. “Aish, this looks bad,” Namjoon sighs defeatedly, making his hyung tsk. “At a table full of children, we are the most childish ones,” he adds, grinningly shaking his head. The statement has Hoseok looking up, noticing the other’s around you. He frowns a bit at the sight, starting to find it strange. A sense of panic rushes through you. “What do you think this one is for?” you quickly ask, grabbing one of the odd-looking tools and hand it to Hoseok. Luckily for you, your best friend is always easily distracted, and this time is no different, making him study the object and wracking his brain for answers. “Weird,” he lets out breathily in quiet awe. You feel relieved, having dodged a bullet right there as your friend is lost in his thoughts.

---------------------------------------

Even a classic design is apparently a challenge to get right, which your pumpkin is evidence of. “How could we make something so ugly together? Shouldn’t two minds be better than one?” you ask dumbfoundedly at how you and Hoseok could manage to create such a thing - lopsided and horrific. At least, it kind of fits the theme. “Considering that both of us only own half a brain, we really can’t count as two,” Hoseok responds, settling the pumpkin down amongst the others. He tilts his head as he rubs his hands on his jeans, studying the thing. Namjoon places their creation next to yours, which is surprisingly a sight even more horrendous. “What is that?” you spit, grinning at their failed attempt. “Well, it was supposed to be Frankenstein, but it just looks like a lot of stab-holes, really,” Namjoon says dejected, eyeing Yoongi, who seems satisfied with their results. “I like it,” Yoongi says contently before turning on his heels and having you all follow him to the next event. The carnival games. You quickly spot one with a witch-theme, grabbing onto Hoseok and pulling him towards it as the others are captured by something else. “I’m terrible at these,” Hoseok laughs, looking at the ring-toss-game. “Well, I’m good at these, so don’t worry,” you say and step up to the counter. You pay a few bucks and get to throw rings at witches’ hats for prizes. You both get a turn. You start out, since Hoseok would rather watch your techniques first, so he can try and mimic them afterwards. It’s a kids’ carnival, how hard can it be? you think to yourself smugly. Just as you had thought, it really does not take much effort to land all three of the rings, and having the worker look at you a bit suspiciously. He is probably not used to young adults playing without trying to win something for a kid, but to your defense, you are trying to win something for a kid. A prize for Hoseok. “You can choose one of these,” the worker gives in, gesturing at the different prizes on his side of the counter. Your eyes scan the options, noting the dark colors and the slightly bloody accessories. None of them really scream Jung Hoseok. Oh, wait - one does. “I’ll take the green frog eyes,” you say determined, smile evident on your face as he hands it to you. It is a brightly colored headband that will match Hoseok’s innocent features perfectly. You turn to him, finding him smiling at your success. “These are for you,” you say softly, stepping closer and gently placing it on his head. It catches him by surprise, but a pleasant one at that. You fiddle with it, trying to adjust his hair accordingly, and you fail to notice his eyes on you. He watches you in awe and adoration as if he is the luckiest guy in the world to be receiving this gift from you. The headband. The friendship. Oh, the friendship, he thinks to himself, feeling it rib at his heart. Yet the feeling is nothing new. He has gotten used to it, keeping it fondly as a reminder that at least he has you in his life, even if it is only as his best friend. “There, perfect,” you say, dropping your eyes from the top of his head to meet his intimate ones, and there is no greater sight in the world. Truly beautiful. “My turn,” Hoseok then says, stepping past you and placing his money in the hands of the worker, who hands him his rings. Hoseok is determined to win. He licks his lips as he eyes the witch hats, turning the first ring a few times in his hand to get a feel of its weight. Suddenly, the technicalities are extremely important. He has three rings and three shots - and he cannot afford to miss. You find it amusing to watch him turn so serious, but you hold back your giggles, not wanting to interrupt his intense self. He finally decides to throw. One by one, they each land perfectly on a hat, and Hoseok's reaction is more than priceless. “I did it!” he shrieks with pure excitement, clapping his hands together vigorously. You join in, giving him a tight side hug that has his heart fluttering. “As before, you can choose one of these,” the worker says unbothered, gesturing to the prizes. “The frog eyes,” Hoseok says contently. The worker hands them to him, and Hoseok immediately turns to you with a headband matching his own. “For you,” he says, mirroring your earlier actions and placing the green prize on your head. “Perfect,” he says, and you hope that the blush on your cheeks is not too obvious for him to notice.

---------------------------------------

After spending several hours at the carnival, walking, talking, eating candy till your teeth rot, the sun is slowly setting and darkness peeks through, but Hoseok is not worried. To be honest, it does not feel as Halloween usually does. He feels a lot calmer and more collected than he had feared, and with you by his side, he is actually enjoying himself. Surprisingly so, considering October 31st is the only day, he absolutely dreads spending with you. Not because of your freakish obsession or because of your sugar rush-like self, but because of him. He dreads embarrassing himself in front of you. Again. The memory of him, peeing his pants in front of the girl he likes, is the single most horrific Halloween memory of them all, even though a lot has scarred him through time. Since then, he has not trusted himself around you and horror at once. He knows, he is a scaredy-cat, but around you, he does not want to be. Tonight kind of feels like he does not have to. It feels as if he can be his normally sensitive self, knowing you will only find him enjoyable as your best friend. “Let’s go in there,” you whisper to him, pointing at the entrance to the corn maze. Yoongi and Namjoon have been long gone, since they found bumper cars, claiming it takes them back to their childhood. Luckily, Hoseok had not paid their wording any thought. “Sure,” Hoseok says slightly nervous. He knows that there is most likely nothing to be afraid of, but it reminds him of the halls of the haunted house, and how actors in costumes jumped out to scare him. It had been one particularly scary clown that had triggered his embarrassing release. But there are no clowns in a corn maze, right? he asks himself internally, trying to keep his cool. He really hopes, he is right. You notice the vague look of panic in his eyes and take his hand in yours to console him. “Don’t worry,” you say softly as you look at him, and he visibly seems to calm before you. His eyes are locked on your face as you go through the entrance, entering the land of the corn. You both look around, noticing how quiet it suddenly seems as you walk the paths premade. It seems as though no one else is trying their luck in the maze at this time, and it makes it all the more enjoyable for the two of you. Your hands are interlocked, your breaths slightly visible in the air from the cool temperature of the evening, and your hearts beating a slow matching pace. You switch turns to pick a path and lead each other further into the unknown. “I like how quiet it is,” you say gently, not wanting to pierce the silence too harshly. “Me too,” Hoseok answers back in awe at the calmness. He halts in his movements to look up, which causes you to stop too, hand still interlocked in his. “Wow,” he says. You look up as well to see what he sees, and your eyes are met with the sight of thousands of stars painted on the canvas of the sky like artwork. A mesmerizing view. “You do not get views like this in the city,” he says, and you feel the way his hand tightens gently around yours as if he is afraid to let you go. If only he knew that leaving him will never be an option for you.  Slowly, you see him lowering his eyes to your face instead, studying you being captured by beauty for a minute as he, himself, is captured by something just as beautiful. “Y/N,” he says, causing you to meet his gaze. You look at him with still widened eyes, trying to take in everything the ability of sight as to offer at this moment. You wait patiently for the words to come. “I love you,” he says simply. No sarcasm, no goofy laughs, no forced positivity - just words. Words with deeper meaning than the universe itself. Words that warms up your entire body as they leave him. Words, pretty words. He steps closer to you, and his free hand comes up to rest gently against your cheek. “I love you,” he repeats in that same tone, sending another rush through you to join the first one. It has you stepping onto your toes and placing your lips on his, hands around his neck to pull him in. He holds your waist to claim you as his, and nothing worries you at that. You are his, and he is yours. Have been and always will be. The kiss ends, and you are left once again to stare into those beautiful orbs of his that hold nothing but truth. “Does this mean I convinced you about Halloween?” you ask giggling, causing him to grin with disbelief, but adoration nonetheless. “Yes,” he nods. “Halloween is actually pretty cool”.

[elliedoes]

The Significance of Fair Food

Human!Castiel x Reader

You talk the boys into making a stop during your travels and you show Castiel the joys of being human.

Warnings: Super fluff. The pairing is very light in its implication. 

Note: This was written for @katymacsupernatural‘s Summer Time Challenge. There’s plenty of time left before the due date if you’re interested in joining in. 

My three categories were: Fair, snow cone, getting sunburnt.

This is unbeta’d, please forgive any mistakes. This is also my first time writing Castiel, so forgive me if it’s a little... off.

Masterlist

When you asked the boy to make a pit stop, the last thing they expected was to end up pulling into a fairgrounds parking lot. The world was ending, again, you had demons and angels and everything in between after the four of you, but damned if it didn’t seem like a good idea. “Dude,” Dean reasoned with his brother, slapping him on his arm, “fair food.”

“Yes,” you chirped, popping your head between them from the backseat. You wrapped your hands around Sam’s shoulders, fingers digging into the tense muscle and you shook him like a maraca. “Yes!”

“What’s the significance of fair food,” Castiel inquired beside you, curious eyes watching Sam’s head snap to and fro from your jarring.

You rounded on him immediately, releasing Sam before you slid into the former angel’s personal space, slinging your arm around his shoulders. “Castiel,” your voice was quiet, intimate, “fair food is the most delicious nourishment that humans have to offer.” You reached up and ran a hand down his cheek and forced him to look you in the eye, “And all of it’s fried.”

He stared at you unblinkingly, puffy lips slightly parted in confusion. You were a hair’s length apart, close enough to be sharing the same lungs, and he nodded once causing his nose brush against yours.

“If you two are done making out,” Dean cleared his throat, arm perched over the back of his seat to glare at you. “I want a corndog.”

You immediately released Cas and then turned to scramble out of the car. You joined up with Dean, hooking your arm around his and the pair of you charged the fair’s main gate, Sam and Castiel trailing behind you.

The sun was out in full force and what little clouds floating in the sky provided no comfort from it’s heated rays. You turned your head up, eyes closed to bask in the warm as you four waited in line for the first vendor that Dean deemed acceptable.

“Fried butter,” Castiel droned behind you, “that doesn’t sound very healthy.”

“It doesn’t have to be healthy, Cas,” Dean replied, pulling you forward as the queue moved, “it’s fair food.”

Sam huffed in annoyance and shook his head, “That’s not an excuse to clog your arteries.”

“Yes, it is,” you and Dean replied simultaneously.

You righted your head and turned to glare up at the youngest Winchester, but you caught sight of Castiel clutching at his chest, his fingers clenching around the soft white shirt that Dean leant him. “Your heart’s gonna be fine, Cas,” you assure him, stumbling along as Dean pulled you forward yet again. “It takes years of eating bad crap to clog you up. If anyone is gonna die of a heart attack, it’s Dean!”

“And I would have no regrets,” came the proud sniff beside you.

“You two are idiots,” Sam sighed.

You opened your mouth to retort, but Dean yanked you one final time and you spun to order the biggest funnel cake they allotted, double sugar and strawberries on top. Dean, of course, got his three corndogs, Sam opted for cup-o-salad, but Cas was at a loss. “He’ll have a corn dog and fries,” you decided.

Dean stayed back to wait for the order and Sam lead the way to find a semi-clean table nearby. “I’ll admit, Y/N,” Cas confided in you, eyes darting to Sam’s back cautiously, “that this fair food does smell delicious.”

“Oh, Cas,” you cooed, once again slinging your arm around his arm and placed your head on his shoulder, “you’re in for a treat.” You take one side with Castiel, Sam opting to sit across from you. The sounds of the crowd washed over you as you baked in the afternoon sun, the shrills from fast rides and rigged games were the soundtrack of your best idea yet.

“Alright, heart attacks on a plate,” Dean cackled gleefully as he sat the tray down in the middle. He passed Castiel his basket and you snatched up your funnel cake with a loud smack of your lips. “You’re gonna give me some of that, Y/N, right?”

Your face twisted in aggression, your body curling around your plate as you claimed your territory. “Absolutely not,” you snarled. Cas shifted uneasily beside you which snapped you out of your daze, “But you can have some, Castiel.” Blue eyes met yours and his brow pinched with uncertainty.

“Oh, so you’ll give some to Cas and not me,” Dean growled, corndog shoved in his mouth and mustard dribbled down his chin.

“Yes,” you answered simply, cutting of a nice, big piece coated with the most sugar and biggest strawberry and held it up for Castiel to eat. The former angel frowned at you and looked to Dean before opening his mouth wide to let you choo-choo it in.

He chewed it slowly, considering its taste. Sugar outlined his mouth and a drip of syrup rested in the very center of his bottom lip. Without thinking, you swiped you thumb across it, shoving it into your mouth to lick off the excess. His eyes went wide, watching the finger disappear between your own sugared lips. “This is very good,” he said hoarsely when he finally managed to swallow.

You wiggled your eyebrows in victory and pointed to his meal, “Clog those arteries, Cas.”

The rest of the afternoon was spent queuing in lines, you and Dean hogging the cotton candy. You did share a bit with Castiel for educational purposes, but most of it was shoved shamelessly into your mouth.

“You two are going to throw up,” Sam grimaced as you headed closer to the Tilt-a-Whirl.

“That’s the fun of fairs,” you replied cheerfully, nudging Cas to make a mental note of it. “You stuff yourself full of bad food and then you get on all the rides so you can throw it up later!”

Cas shook his head, “That doesn’t sound like fun at all.”

“It is,” Dean winked, “you’ll love it.” Sam contradicted his brother with a silent shake of his head, but you were all ushered into your seats before the older brother could argue. And when the ride was over, you were hugging your stomach, looking a little paler and Dean shuffled slowly beside you.

“I told y-” Sam started but heated glares from the both of you had him holding his hands up and laughing.

Despite your aching stomachs, you and Dean drag the other two on the Teacups, the Falling Tower, even in the Haunted House. It was the Tunnel of Love that caught your eye, though, and not because you had anything romantic in mind, but it was a slow, easy ride that hid you from the harsh afternoon sun.

The boys fought over who would actually sit with you because it was the Tunnel of Love, after all, and you can’t go in with your brother without people raising eyebrows and they sure as hell didn’t want to ‘fall in love with Cas’. “You’re all idiots,” you exclaimed and pulled Cas into the small swan shaped boat.

“This ride doesn’t actually make humans fall in love, does it,” he asked you hesitantly.

You leaned back against the hard wooden frame, head tilted back as the tunnel’s cool air breezed over your sun kissed skin, “No, Cas. It’s an excuse for teenagers to make out in, though. Or older people to make out like teenagers.” There’s a deep rumble of thoughtfulness next you and you can feel Cas’s eyes on you. “You wanna make out with me,” you asked with one eye cracked open.

“I don’t know,” he answered. “That means kissing, right?”

“Yes,” you snorted.

He’s brow wrinkled and he nodded, “Yes.”

“Yes,” you repeated, surprised. You sat up and tilted your head, a smile split your face in two.

“Yes,” Cas said for the second time, “I’ve thought about kissing you before. I’ve watched you with the men that you’ve taken home from bars and…”

You held up a hand and blinked, “What do you mean you’ve watched me?”

“I was afraid that they might hurt you, so I kept watch,” Castiel explained, noting your sudden discomfort of the conversation. “I stopped watching when you… you know.”

“I am so glad you’re human now,” you groaned, bringing up your legs in the open bench seat and hid your face away. You felt a hand atop your knee and a gentle squeeze in timid comfort. “If you ever get your grace back, dude, please don’t ever watch me again,” you pleaded once you lifted your head.

Cas nodded, those deep blue eyes full of regret and understanding, “I promise.”

The ride finished without a makeout session, but you had forgiven Cas by the time you caught up with Sam and Dean. The sun was getting low and the fair’s lights slowly started to flicker on, the Ferris Wheel drawing everyone’s attention. “Last ride,” Sam warned you, so you tugged them along, waiting in the longest queue of the day.

“Snow Cones,” Dean whispered, pushing at your shoulder. “Wait here,” he instructed his brother and friend before dragging you over to the stand. While the ice did sound like a good idea in the warm summer evening, more sugar was going to make your veins explode.

“I dunno, Dean,” you patted your belly, “I don’t know if I can fit anymore.”

“Don’t be a wuss,” he egged you on and shoved you up to the counter. You order a small one, rainbow all the way and kick Dean in the shin when you got your purchase and ran off to the safety of your friends.

“More sugar,” you told Cas, holding up the shaved ice settled in a paper cup. “Sweets for a sweetie,” you offer it to him, “just bite.” He looked from you to the colored ball of frost and scraped his teeth along to gather some with an approving hum. Dean soon joined you, tagging you on the back of your head when he returned and nearly had you spilling your treat. “Watch it!”

Cas frowned in disapproval at Dean, but the oldest Winchester smirked smugly and bite down hard on his snow. “For as much sugar as you consume, Dean, you can be sour,” he reprimanded, patting your shoulder and taking yet another bite of your snow cone.

“Are you really white knighting, Y/N, right now,” Dean snorted, the tip of his nose dyed blue from his flavoring.

“If that means I’m defending her, then yes,” Cas replied, his eyes, like yours and Sam’s, trained on the small spot of blue. “Dean,” he started, but you wrap a hand around his wrist and squeeze. How the three of you are holding a straight face, you’ll never know.

“What,” came the gruff reply accompanied by a frown.

“Nothing,” Cas replied casually, tearing his eyes away from his friend and back to you and the Snow Cone. You return the stare, both of you leaning in to take a bite and you tried not to choke on the flavored ice.

“What,” Dean asked pressingly.

“Line’s moved up,” Sam answered, pulling his brother along.

Dean eyed you all suspiciously, but he moved along with everyone else, digging back into his ice and coming out with an even bigger spot of blue. Sam’s jaw is clenched so hard you could hear his teeth starting to crack and you’re sure you’ve snorted some of your ice in an attempt to stop your laughter. But Castiel? He was standing there, smiling at the three of you, suddenly understanding what the significance of fair food is.

-

“Dammit,” Dean groaned the next day, waddling in from the bathroom, “Y/N!” Castiel looked up from the newspaper and tilted his head, his eyes shifting from Dean to you splayed out of the bed in nothing more than a thin cami and cotton shorts, looking just as uncomfortable as Dean with your cherry red skin.

“Shut up,” you spat, not able to move from your bed. It wasn’t fair, not really. All four of you were out in the sun all day and only you and Dean managed to get burned, even through all of your layers. “Your voice makes my skin hurt.”

“Your face makes my skin hurt,” Dan shot back, slowly climbing onto the bed next to you. The pair of you weakly slapped at each other from your prone positions and you felt the bed dip behind you.

“Sam said this might happen,” Castiel stated as he flipped open a cap of aloe. “He said I would need to rub this into your skin.”

Dean jerked his head up and immediately winced from the pain, “You’re not rubbing anything on me.”

“Shut up and enjoy it, jerk,” you hissed and twisted your head as much as you could to look at Castiel. “Rub it all over me, Cas, as deep as you can.”

The former angel flushed as bright as the pair of you, but set to work.

[ritebeforeyoureyes]

Confessions

Sorry it took me a little longer to post this than the rest, I travelled home this weekend so was preoccupied with spending some time with my family. I was also lacking a lot of creativity for this but I think all in all, this chapter is major fluff! 

Masterlist - Plot: Tom takes Zendaya on an unconventional first date. 

Confessions (Chapter Four)

“Let me take you on a date.” The statement was out of the blue and Zendaya paused, her hair brush falling into her lap as she glanced up at Tom. His hands were on his hips and he was smiling softly, as if he had been thinking about asking her on a date since she’d come home a few hours earlier.

Zendaya had only required to be on set until midday therefore, giving her and Tom a full day to spend together. As usual, Darnell was more than happy to spend his time roaming the streets of New York, camera and cash card in hand. Harrison had caught on quickly also and had decided to spend some down time with Jacob Batalon, also known as Peter Parker’s trusty sidekick. Jacob had arrived in the city the night before and was spending the next few weeks with some family until he was back on the road for the Spider-Man promotional tour. The whole gang was getting together for dinner later but Jacob and Haz knew that Tom and his girl needed the time alone.

“I’d love to go on a date with you.” Truth was, Zendaya hadn’t been on a real date in a while. Things with Trevor had gone sour a lot before Zendaya had cared to admit and she had forgotten what it was like to just spend good quality time with somebody. “What were you thinking?”

“I wanted it to be memorable so,” Tom elongated his syllables, adding to Zendaya’s suddenly ignited curiosity; the suspense was killing her. “It’s a surprise.”

Tom didn’t even give Zendaya much time to get ready. She was freshly out of the shower and her wet hair was combed flat against her head. She was wearing a casual black skirt and Tom blindly threw any jacket at her, ushering her out the door within the space of twenty minutes. Tom’s need to rush made Zendaya slightly excited. She didn’t know what to expect and Tom’s poker face was a good one, he wasn’t giving her any clues.

“Wait, Tom, where are we?” Within ten minutes of being in the car, their driver pulled up in front of Bang Bang New York, a tattoo place that was notorious for inking celebrities. Coincidentally, it was the spot where Zendaya’s mom, Claire, had gotten her tattoos too.  “We are not that couple that gets tattoos.”

After running the idea by both Darnell and Haz, Tom had decided to take Zendaya to a tattoo parlour. He didn’t expect Zendaya to get a tattoo, of course, but he himself had been contemplating getting one for a while. So much had changed in Tom’s life after having signed with Marvel and now, Spider-Man had become an integral part of his life. He wanted to commemorate the good changes in his life by getting a ‘spider’ inspired tattoo. He knew tattoos were a permanent decision but Tom was certain about what he wanted; the added significance would be that Zendaya would be holding his hand as he got one. The whole idea was unconventional and that was what Tom wanted. He was definitely going to remember this day and he was certain that his idea was so unexpected that Zendaya would too.

“You’re not getting a tattoo,” Tom kissed Zendaya’s surprised and pouting lips quickly, his eyes drifting to the driver whose attention was safely directed to his phone. “I am and I wanted you to be here for it.”

“What?” Zendaya scoffed softly. Tom had told her about wanting a tattoo but she’d never thought he was serious. From what she had heard, his parents weren’t too keen on the idea of something so permanent, hence why he’d never gotten one. “Are you serious-“

“Shh, all questions will be answered when we get in there. I don’t want to miss my appointment, come on.” Zendaya wordlessly followed Tom into the store, her mouth still gaping that this was all actually happening.

“Ah, Tom, right?” Keith McCurdy, the owner of the parlour, greeted Tom at the door. The two shook hands before Keith saw Zendaya. He was familiar with her and her family and he enveloped her in a hug all most instantly after spotting her. “Hey, Z. Prettier than ever.” Keith winked at her swiftly before getting Tom into a chair.

“Hey, Keith, still a charmer I see.” She laughed softly before pulling up a chair next to Tom’s seat. The shop was fairly empty, allowing Tom his privacy and Zendaya watched intently from his side.

“This your first tattoo?” Tom nodded and Zendaya discreetly gripped at his shirt, her fingers tracing light patterns into the exposed skin of his torso. Keith and Tom had been conversing for a few weeks now and Tom had finally finalised a design and where he wanted it. Tom nodded, the fear starting to fizzle within him speedily. He had been so wrapped up in the concept of having a tattoo that he hadn’t even anticipated the pain. “Don’t worry, just try and relax and it’ll be over before you know it.”

To Tom, Keith’s ‘over-before-you-know-it’ felt like an eternity. The tattoo gun seemed to buzz for what felt like hours and Tom’s eyes were glued shut, his bottom lip curled into his mouth as he bit down on it, hard. However, Zendaya, as expected, had been the calming factor that he had needed. She held his hand and spoke soothing words as he jumped and swore.

“Fuck, please, tell me,” Keith was progressing towards the last part of Tom’s tattoo and this time, Tom had pealed his eyes open. His fingers were tightly wrapped in Zendaya’s and he was squeezing her as if his life depended on it. “Why did I decide … on … the bottom of my foot?” Keith had warned him that the skin on the bottom of one’s foot was sensitive and it was a spot many tried to stay away from in terms of tattoos. But, Tom being Tom, had been persistent on the idea. Now, he was having to pay consequences because Tom was hurting like a motherfucker. Zendaya just chuckled, giving him a few firm pats on the stomach before it was all over.

“Now, this is you’re master piece, kid.” Keith held a mirror to Tom’s foot and Zendaya admired the piece of artwork alongside her boyfriend. She wasn’t going to lie, it was pretty cool. The goofy grin that refused to leave Tom’s face indicated that he too thought it was rather cool.

“I can’t believe you actually just did that.” With a gauze around his foot and a safety instruction leaflet to follow, Zendaya and Tom were out of the tattoo parlour and grabbing some coffee. His tattoo hadn’t taken as long as expected and so the couple had mutually decided to spend some more time out in the city before heading home to everybody else. The snow fall was light and a light ray of sunshine was lighting up the streets, it was the perfect time to be out as well.

“I’m not going to lie, I can’t believe I did that either.” Tom chuckled, he was still trying to wrap head around the fact that he had a tattoo. “Could I grab an Americano with a hazelnut shot and that coffee cake in the window, please?” Before Zendaya could place her contactless card on the machine, Tom nudged her arm out the way and paid for both her order and his brownie and pink lemonade. She looked up at him with a scowl on her face but Tom just shrugged in response.  

“You didn’t have to do that, thank you.” Zendaya and Trevor’s relationship had been so different to hers with Tom that Zendaya was growingly surprised every day. It was so foreign for her to be treated like a lady and Tom seemingly knew that. He hated that Zendaya had to thank him for the simplest of things but he was also grateful that he was the one who could put that cute little smile on her face.

He would buy her all the coffee in the world if it meant she smiled at him the way she was right now.

“Thank you for being there with me today.” As soon as they were back in a car, the space between Tom and Zendaya was minimal. There was a screen up between the driver and them and the two used it as some time to cuddle. Tom wrapped his arms around her and Zendaya rested her against his chest. “It meant the world to have you there with me.”

“It meant the world that you asked me to come with you.” Tom’s idea of an unconventional date had surprised Zendaya and she was glad. “Really.”  

“I know it wasn’t the typical kind of date but I just thought having you there would be comforting and we can still go to a movie if you…” Tom was rambling and his eyes glazed over as he delved into a world of his own.  “Or we can go for ice cream … I mean no, we can’t afford to get you sick so maybe not ice cream but hot chocolate okay no, that’s stupid too we just bought-“

“Tom, stop it.” Zendaya grabbed his hand in her own, pulling away from his chest to look him straight in the eye. Tom smiled at the sight of her, he pulled their intertwined hands up to her face, his knuckles brushing against her cold skin. “I couldn’t have thought of anything more perfect for us to do together.”

“You sure?” Tom retaliated with the scepticism evident in his voice.

“Certain. Thank you for taking me with you, it really meant a lot.”

“You’re welcome, beautiful.” Zendaya leaned in to kiss him. And, just like the first time they kissed, Zendaya was limbless in his hold. Her insides heated up instantaneously and Tom’s tongue prodded at her closed lips. He teased her first, his tongue strokes gentle and then forceful but still pretty restrained. But as soon as a moan resonated at the back of her throat, Tom couldn’t hold back anymore and he slipped inside her mouth. Their moans, this time, were simultaneous and as things grew increasingly heated Zendaya pulled back. She knew they couldn’t be ripping their clothes off one another in the backseat of taxi and so, she, reluctantly, stopped things before it got too far. She rested her forehead against Tom’s, her breathing heavy and laboured.

“Being there with you today means I can also tell Haz about how you couldn’t stop screaming like a wuss.” Zendaya winked at Tom cheekily and his facial features dropped.

She wouldn’t – but of course, she did. And once again, it was time for the gang to roast Tom Holland.

[ladyloveandjustice]

ACE ATTORNEY GAMES RANKING AND THOUGHTS ON DUAL DESTINIES

Personal Ranking of the games, highest/most enjoyable to lowest: PLEASE NOTE THAT I REALLY ENJOY ALL OF THEM AND THINK THEY HAVE A LOT OF MERIT, EVEN THE LOWEST RANKED.

Ace Attorney 3: Trials and Tribulations (WE HAVE TO PRETEND GODOT DOES’T EXIST BUT I’M WILLING TO DO THIS...but when I do remember Godot exists, it gets moved to second place and AA1 is top dog), Ace Attorney 1, Ace Attorney Investigations 2,  Justice for All, Ace Attorney: Investigations, Dual Destinies, Spirit of Justice, Apollo Justice

I think that’s pretty solid. AA3′s ranking is pretty variable depending on my mood bc ugh godot why godot but i love so much about it and it basically has great moments for the whole cast, so? gotta admit it. Even Godot can’t ruin AA3 for me. AAI and DD also might switch places depending on my mood.

I am surprised at how far down AA2 was knocked- it introduces great characters and the final case is one of the best in the entire series, but the other cases are pretty eh and the circus case is pretty terrible, as we all know. On replay that stick out more. Meanwhile 3/5 of AA1 cases are just fantastic, and it does a great job getting the feels and endearing you to the characters. Rise from the Ashes does a lot to elevate it. 

AAI2 is one of the best games in the series, I’m almost tempted to put if first tbh. The cast, the character development, the mysteries, the little moments- all a plus. 

AAI is frustrating and tedious at times and the plot is very weak, but I think largely makes up for it by having a ton of investigation options (obviously) that allow for fun character convos. The flashback case especially was a blast.

Then we’ve got DD and the fact I like DD better than SoJ and AJ is probably very unpopular- I can see why people would feel differently. The plot to DD is weak (the climax and final twist of SoJ is much much stronger), a lot of it’s on-the-nose and cliche, some characters are underwritten and it’s way too easy. SOJ is a better game structurally and mechanically. But ultimately, I find DD a lot less frustrating and more fun than SoJ. 

There are just so many things about SoJ that make me actively ANGRY- how Maya is treated and her return and character is uttely wasted and she’s damseled in a blatant retread of JFA, how Athena is regressed and blatantly sidelined, how PHOENIX is regressed for no reason in the JFA retread- like he makes almost the exact same mistakes he did in JFA and there’s absolutely NO reason for him not to tell Apollo and Athena what’s happening- and in general, just several characters are dumbed down and sidelined to make Apollo look good, which??? Ya didn’t have to do that?

I feel DD was way better at balancing it’s cast and treating them with respect. Apollo’s arc took him out of focus sometimes, but it didn’t feel like he was regressing (mostly bc...they didn’t develop his character all that much in AJ in the first place).  He made the mistake of not trusting his agency, but honestly, there was never a lot of trust between Phoenix and him in the first place, and he was just getting to know Athena AND he was going through a lot of grief- so it all felt pretty natural. And it established that he approaches “trust” and being a lawyer in a different way than Phoenix and Athena do, which I feel was very important for making him distinct as a character. It was DD that helped me really “get” Apollo TBH, because again, his own game actually didn’t develop him that much even if he was a cutie. At least he had a character arc in DD, and I felt he’d grown by the end of the game.

I think it’s important to remember it’s been explicitly stated that Apollo’s popularity shot up in Japan after DD came out, for all fans gripe about it, this game still actually cared more about him than his own game did, enough to actually endear a bunch of fans to him.

Meanwhile, I’ve already worded on Athena and how I feel her character arc was great- she grew a lot over the course of the game and her story was very resonant to me. She got a lot of the spotlight, but other characters weren’t ever dumbed down to make her look good, like what happened with Apollo in SOJ.

Phoenix also progressed a bit- he’s noticeably more confident than in the trilogy and it’s interesting to see him in a (much more reliable) mentor role. He’s always enjoyed looking after people, so it does feel natural for him to take on that role and feels like he’s really continuing Mia’s legacy by getting his own proteges. A lot of a stuff that happened to him in AJ isn’t really followed up on when it would have been way more interesting to keep those aspects, but I can understand to some extent why it didn’t happen. Following up on what AJ did to him while still making a new, separate game, is TOUGH, and I don’t envy DD’s position in having to do it. 

I do think it’s believable Phoenix could recover a bit and scale back on his cynicism now that he’s finally managed to prove his innocence, and there ARE hints throughout DD that some issues remain, so there’s at least something to work with there.I especially appreciate that DD did it’s best to address what Miles and Maya were up to during AJ and reassured players they WERE around- the hints that Miles and Phoenix might have been in conflict over whether he should get his badge back and that Phoenix was resistant to Miles helping him were especially appreciated, and make sense for the characters. The fact that Miles eventually did manage to make him get it back and even pulled strings- also great. The way they settled in old married couple closeness felt so natural too.

I think what a lot of fans don’t take into account with DD was (as well as I can glean) what it was like when AJ came out and there was no follow-up. Guys, AJ would have gotten a direct sequel if fans had reacted well to the new status quo. They obviously didn’t. And that’s NOT SURPRISING. We had Phoenix going through a full, developed character arc, a complete story and then AJ comes along and is like “lol never mind his life is ruined now and HAS BEEN TERRIBLE FOR SEVEN YEARS and all that progress he made went down the drain. also where are Miles and Maya? who knows?” and introduced a new protag without bothering to develop him or give him backstory and introduce a lot of underdeveloped, HARD-TO-UNDERSTAND (why are the gramyrie men so awful why did they do anything they did their actions make NO SENSE)   characters and unresolved, inexplicable things.

I really think what AJ did with Phoenix is interesting, but it was also devastating and frustrating and they didn’t bother to explain most of it so it felt so random too. I honestly would have been gutted at it had I not know DD was coming out and he was going to be okay and practice law again. Phoenix losing his badge is bold, and it is a legit direction to take things- life really does suck like that at times- but also, we KNOW life sucks like that sometimes. that doesn’t mean we want to see characters who had a complete story come back only to be miserable and lose almost everything. I’m a wuss, so seeing that happen to Phoenix would have been way too much for me had I not known a happy ending was coming. I find AJHoboNick interesting as a phase of Phoenix’s life, but don’t like it as a permanent state of being for him. 

That doesn’t mean we couldn’t have reached that happy ending in a more interesting way obvs- I’d have liked (and would still like) for the bitterness and moral looseness Phoenix picked up during the AJ years to be explored more, even as he comes back to law. DD played it safe, while AJ took a lot of risks that didn’t really pan out and ended up as a mess. I can see why one would prefer the latter to the former.

But I think DD accomplished what it set out to do, in an enjoyable way. It had a job: restore Phoenix as a protag while still involving Apollo, give Apollo some actual backstory and an arc, introduce this new character and give her a complete arc, actually explain where all these character who were just dropped in AJ have been and follow up on it as best you can. It did a good job doing all that, and succeeded (except for in addressing the Apollo and Trucy thing, it didn’t follow that up...aghhh....). It let all the characters shine, felt balanced, and introduced a new status quo that felt comfortable and fun. I remember being so overjoyed when I first played with it and there was a reason for that. It felt like coming home.

And again, SOJ had a lot of good things going on, like Rayfa, and a stronger plot, but the way it just blatantly screwed over characters-and how Nahyuta was SO BORING AND SUCH A FAILURE AS A RIVAL (another thing DD did better btw Simon is a blast he is ridic but also makes sense and his older-brother-relationship with Athena is sweet) just leave a bit of a sour taste.

also i love athena and DD introduced her so. you guys probably can guess that’s a big factor. 

I’ve already worded about the way AJ- while interesting and ambituous and impressive and nice looking- failed majorly in some ways. and wasn’t as enjoyable to play- so you know the drill there. I STILL LIKE IT THOUGH. IT HAS A LOT OF MERIT AS A GAME.

SO MY UNPOPULAR OPINION. DD HAS A LOT OF WEAKNESSES BUT I STILL LIKE IT A LOT AND LIKE IT A LOT BETTER THAN SOJ OR AJ, THOUGH I ALSO LIKE BOTH THOSE GAMES. DD TRIED AND IT GAVE ME MY YELLOW DARLING.

also really no need to argue with me on any of this. in fact please do not.

now i just have to play the bonus case and then it’s PLvAA time! i wonder how that will rank. probs not very high since crossovers tend to be nonsensical.

[frontblast-blog]

SOUTH CAROLINA: THE HOPPIEST STATE

The final stop of my last US road trip was Charleston, SC: after 5 hectic working days capturing on camera The Black Dahlia Murder, Whitechapel, Fleshgod Apocalypse, Slayer, Lamb Of God, Anthrax, Behemoth and Testament in three different states (Michigan, Virginia and North Carolina), driving across Ohio, Kentucky and West Virginia, I was finally looking forward to have a day just for myself in South Carolina where I had no photography commitments and I did not know anybody.   Before heading to  the Marriott where I was booked for the night, I decided to stop at Holy City: none of my friends knew of a brewery to recommend in the area so I found it by googling it.  The choice of craft breweries in the area is immense, but I went for the Holy City as I just love the name, the feeling of a proper Southern retreat for craft ale and great company lovers as I am. 

The place looks like an abandoned tavern at first but as I parked right opposite the entrance, I was immediately greeted by smiling people and a nice, friendly warm atmosphere. As I sat at the bar, I was welcomed by Zak who with his charming southern accent, started introducing me to the Holy City creations. I opted for the flight, which I tried few days earlier at Odd Side Ales in Michigan. Four different choices served in glasses twice the size of a regular shot glass. Zak recommended the following:

Yeast Wrangle (8.4%): a well balanced hoppy DIPA which I gulped down in no time.

IPA-A  (8.2%): a traditional Belgian IPA with a kick, borne as a collaboration with Pawley’s Island (https://www.pawleysislandbrewing.com/)

Unbridled Enthusiasm (5.4%): a citra-hopped wheat ale, refreshing  and very easy to drink

Sparkly Princess (6.3%): a very unique sour IPA, El Dorado Dry-hopped.

I took my time in tasting these 4 delicious ales, looking around and noticing the big containers where it all starts, standing just next to the tables, it’s priceless to sip great ales as they are being made.  As I made my choice for which one to have for dinner (Yeast Wrangler with not one hint of a doubt), Zak suggested I also tried their Porter. Although I was starting to feel a bit tipsy and I was conscious I still had few miles to drive before getting to the hotel, I could not resist. The Holy City is famous for their Porter, that’s what Zak told me so how could I say no? And I understood why. Its robust yet velvety taste  totally won me over, if I wasn’t such a wuss and had a bigger stomach, I could have easily drank a pint of it. And this is not it: I noticed something on the board that made me giggle a lot: Smells Like Rick, a whiskey aged pilsen. I could not resist to this last temptation so I had that too as part of my Holy City flight experience. But I felt fine and ready to go back to my room and start making notes on this awesome place where I will definitely return, making sure I can stay longer and that I have a taxi booked to take me to the hotel.

As I was thanking Zak for all his spot on suggestions and as I was purchasing the Holy City girlie  top (so damm cute), he kindly gave me the pint glass as a souvenir. He also mentioned I should come back and try their unique way to celebrate Sundays, with the Holy City guilt-free brunch (with several vegan options) as it’s preceded by a yoga class at 10.00 am right in the middle of the bar. So yoga, ales and fun, nothing is missing in this holy place!

... so yes, my experience at Holy City confirms that South Carolina is indeed the hoppiest city in the US. Fasten your seat belts and do visit this stunning brewery located in a stunning part of the world. And tell Zak Fabiola the girl with the Anthrax tshirt sent you

[empressbookwyrm]

Week 3

To sum, it had its ups and downs. Friday and Saturday definitely could have been better, and the superbowl party was also a bunch of junk food. I am still rationing soda and managed to turn that down several times, and portion control is getting a little better I think, but my biggest problem is resisting temptation when it is put right in front of me. I also only walked 3 times and did not exercise on a 4th day, I need to think of a regular plan for that, or simply up my walking.

Goal for next week: Eat less than I think I will need and wait 15-20 minutes to see if I’m still hungry, before eating more. 

(Below is the full journal, for the bored and vaguely interested)

Sunday:

Lunch: string cheese

Dinner: Superbowl party, so pizza and snacks! I didn’t go too crazy, and only had one can of soda (so one of two allowed for the month).

Exercise: Walked 30 mins in an unfamiliar park--trail was too short and weather was too cold for more.

Monday:

Lunch: low-calorie frozen meal

Dinner: Half a cucumber and small portion of fried rice

Snack: Handful of raisins.

Tuesday:

Breakfast: granola bar

Lunch: Chicken taco (whole wheat tortilla, chicken, cheese, sour cream, and spring greens), half a cucumber.

Snack: String cheese.

Dinner: 2 mandarin oranges and movie snacks.

Wednesday:

Breakfast: granola bar

Lunch: Chicken taco

Dinner: Salad, white pasta, a roll, and a very small brownie.

Thursday:

Breakfast: granola bar

Lunch: low-calorie frozen meal

Snack: baby carrots

Dinner: noodles with chicken and peas

Snack: a small cookie

Exercise: Walked for an hour with a friend.

Friday:

Breakfast: granola bar

Lunch: Tuna with an egg and pickles, on crackers.

Snack: piece of jerky, peanuts

Dinner: 2 pieces of pizza, small piece of brownie, one breadstick. 

Exercise: Walked for an hour, partly with friends and partly alone when they wussed out.

Saturday; 

Lunch: pb sandwich, bowl of bran flakes with raisins, string cheese.

Dinner: Taco bell

Dessert: Tbsp of mini choc chips

[seekingsolace711]

The Easily Amused One

Tonight I feel like writing my story even though nobody cares or will care. But for the heart’s contentment. I’d write. Just so that someday when I lose it (my wits and memory), somebody would care to read it to me or if there wasn’t any then I’d read and probably able to identify with it.

As cliche as it sounds to begin a story with a sour tone but that in fact was reality -for aren’t stories realities twisted by a twinge of fiction?- that a 6 year old kid had to face. Now I’m not sour-coating this to garner sympathy or applauses, for none of it matters. It is just a reality that sinks in only today that a misfit will always be a misfit. Back then sure people were friendly and nice and treated you as how a kid would but there was a catch. There always was it was either your face was too dark,or your nose was different,or your toys weren’t in trend, or your parents were too strict or you were too much of a wuss because of a pre-existing condition which prevented you from doing normal activities.

Nevertheless the 6 year old was always in a “oh it’s okay” mode consciously. What she didn’t realise that all these resulted in a monstrous gape in her future self. Subconsciously she pegged herself to be not good enough but consciously she agreed with their remarks.

Sure school was fun. But she was never a kid because she had inculcated the fear of what other people thought within her that she didn’t join in stuff like a kid would. And even if she did it was mostly done to fit in and groove in with the cool kids.

This was a mistake she kept on repeating mostly in primary school. It was hard to move to a different school especially those that were slightly different than what she was used to. It was a good different though but because it wasn’t a normalcy for her she took time to fit in. And in all honesty she only did manage to fit right in after she left. Using the knowledge she had garnered from the institution she now understands her mistakes and cringes through it. But all throughout primary school all she did was to join and make a name. Just so she would finally be accepted. Or regarded at the very least someone who belongs somewhere.

She did though for a short period of time. But she was no fun. All work and rules and no let loose and play. She was a bore and she knew that. Again this had piled up to her already burdened subconscious of inferiorities.

And then came the pre-teen years where she had her first crush. It was a window for a common scenario in her future life. Ironically she kid herself that the next time would be better but it wasn’t. It was horrible to have to crush over somebody without them knowing but it was even devastating with then knowing and not liking you back.

Then came secondary school and it was the best years of my life. How remarkable it was to be amongst people just carefree and you. I lived and loved it every bit. Sure I wasn’t the smartest but I had memories and these would be the ones I cherish for life. I can’t simply detail them but it definitely made me into a different person. I thought all avenues were possible and reachable if I set my mind to it and work hard.

Every bird has to leave its nest be it willingly or not and this time I was more than willing. I knew my results weren’t as top notch as people thought it would be which I’m flattered honestly. But I was determined to go far far away. And I wanted it because the angst at home was unbearable. Hilarious right to read of somebody who wishes to stay far away from home. Well I would. Simply because it drives me crazy with the endless bickering or ignoring of people. I hate it then and I still do. Don’t get me wrong I love my family but I can’t stand them because they’re the reason for some of my problems right now just as they are the reason to why I had to grow up so early. It’s easy to pin the blame people might say. And yes it is and I am not ashamed of pinning it because at least I feel content that I am a mess right now partly because of someone other than me. After high school I had literally locked myself in my room for weeks.

I didn’t know why or what triggered me for the life of me even until today I don’t remember what it was but that moment was helpful. Alone only accompanied by serial dramas and my laptop. That’s how I lived for a month plus. I only realised that I was depressed when I read an article a year after that. I knew what the catalyst was so I avoid it at all cost. And it’s hard if the catalyst is also the constant presence in one’s life. But I had to be selfish for my own sanity.

Recluse. That’s what they called me. And rightly so. I didn’t mind it but again subconsciously it piled on chipping away at my already wounded esteem and pride. I was and still am a selfish person. I admit it. And honestly I’m a coward too. I’m scared of going back into “that zone” as my mother tactfully puts it. It’s not that I want to. I hate being that way. And nobody bothers investigating why it is I am that way.

Am. Till today it’s a struggle to be away from the zone. How do I do it. Well by laughing really at mundane small little things because it helps. That was probably why people peg me as easily amused. The truth was that I had to.