#did a wake n bake today and i am having revelations and also am just vibing

[cythoughtsnmemories]

08.11.23

It's 4.30am and I've been awake since 3ish. Can't sleep after going to pee and I kept hearing vehicles from the main road. Starts thinking about reason why hubby should move over my hse instead. Searching for bedroom feng shui for my room.

Started my 2wks at hubby's hse since Sun. As usual, am not comfortable living here.

Morning alarm (ard 5.20am) which kept ringing from mil's phones which hubby will dismissed it for his mum.

Talking loudly from his parents when they woke up.

Squeezing on single size bed w hubby. How to get proper sleep or should I complain how is this sleeping tgt if hubby had to sleep on sofa every night.

Pee-ing at night is stressful for me too. Cos I tend to pee ard 5+ and that's when in laws wake up for work and then uses d toilet. Idw the lights, the convo present to minimise "waking myself" cos I had difficulty falling asleep again. So, I literally woke up 5+ too. Guess I'm gonna be zombie today again since I'm still awake (*4.55am and in laws gonna wake soon). See~ my hse no such issue cos my parents don't work n don't wake up this early.

Ytd, I wfh. To prevent previous incident of stressing abt my lunch, I choose to eat out at coffee shop nearby. But MIL comment my top (singlet) is too reveling so I have to buy back. I didn't want to waste the plastic container, so I insist to eat there. MIL don't agree and so she decided to cook lunch cos of me.

Haiz, had my lunch at home lo but I don't like it. Thinking got home cooked food, y I still complain? Look at the amount of ginger MIL put. Yea, ginger's benefits is good but not overdose till your dish taste like ginger only. Anw, I did ate d steam fish which is more normal. Other than that, MIL also just get helper to prepare instant food like bake beans, fried chicken. Healthy meh? It's like eating for the sake of eating.

MIL don't take proper meal. This point I shouldn't care but I just tot, it somehow affects us (children). If skipping meal regularly and eat snack and instant noodles just to save money, then it's too much. No nutrients > poor immune system > fall sick easily > children has to take care.

It was pouring heavily in the noon and supposed to do laundry. Luckily hubby helped to gather enough hangers and kept some dry clothes. Managed to do laundry ytd.

Dinner! Can only eat ard 8.40pm. That's supper for me.

[nyanryan]

becoming a stoner was a terrible idea i have accidentally made myself insane

[cosmiclatte28]

Baking! (Yuta x you)

a/n : heyyo it’s friday, let’s have some “me” time and enjoy some imagine with Yuta! Idea came from @yutahoes comment on previous post HOT PATCHED

warning : none! suggestive, how you ended up with a bun in the oven! (your beloved Nami), and of course 2020 was a baking year and I am more than willing to share you the recipe i am referring to for this story! DM me :D also i got a bit too carried away :) but it’s gonna be fun :D

tagging : @2-3-t-i @yutahoes @ailoveyuta

with that said.. enjoy your scene! 

Ever since the pandemic started and staying at home becomes a mandatory rule, you and your fiance, Yuta have been trying to overcome boredom with all possibilities. On the first month of staying home, you two are very excited about having “leisure” time while working at home. Both of you are delighted by the fact that you don’t have to wake up early, drive in the busy streets, and you just have to slip into your proper clothes when there is a board meeting. Considering your job is a magazine editor, you have meetings but luckily not every day.

Second month, you start to do yoga and exercises with Yuta every time he is bored, and he has nothing to do. Well, his comeback is still in preparation, so he only comes for regular practice and always got home when your office hour ends.

Fourth months, you pick up a new hobby and because your magazine company needs to make a new fresh content that suits the situation, the team comes up with a baking page. You are assigned to make the content, including taking pictures and trying the recipes your team made. You also have to do the editing but there’s help with that. You take the challenge, though you never bake before you see this as the perfect opportunity to start a new hobby. Things were great, the content is rising in demand since the world is baking suddenly! You got your raise and you enjoy doing this until your silly ass fell from challenging yourself to a wild yoga pose. You hurt your arms, they are a slightly fractured and you cannot make your baking content for the first three weeks of recovery, but you are so irritated to just stay in front of the laptop and watch your other friend make the pictures and cakes. So, when you can no longer hold yourself back, you plead the director board to give you back the baking section and they did love your job so you won the part back.

“Yuta can you come home earlier today?” you question the man who already wears his mask and has his training bag ready on his shoulder.

“Me?? I guess I’m done after lunch, I only have to practice singing today. Why?” he asks you back

You put on your sweetest smile “Don’t you want to try baking? I need some help with the rubric.”

Yuta’s eyes twinkle, it’s been his wish to try baking but because of practice and the amount of tools to wash and lack of time he hasn’t been able to do it. Now that you are offering him, he thinks he can seize the opportunity.

“Okay, I’ll try, who knows NCT will have a baking vlog after this, might flex about my skills” he smirks and you only grin at his cockiness.

“Okay, you can go.” You push him away after kissing his cheek and blushing when he winks at you and disappear behind the door.

Today you just have to wait for the team to send you the ingredients and recipes. You wonder what you’ll bake today no, what Yuta will bake today.

He was lucky the baking procedure he has to do today is easy. Simple lemon cake and you manage to get good pictures of Yuta’s hands and the aesthetic bowls and whiskers. You manage to hold the camera with your stiff casted hand, but it works even when you look super silly.

“Oh gosh! This is healing.” Yuta exclaims when his first cake comes out of the oven nicely and with a good aroma. You quickly take pictures and once it’s done, Yuta has already cut a slice and pops it into his mouth. “Yummy, I am talented indeed.” He sounds so confident and you hate to admit, his cake is better than what you expect and knowing your husband, you know he won’t stop bragging about this, he might even go as far as trying more baking recipes.

--

Your nightmare comes true, once his promotional schedule with NCT is over, he comes home with a load of baking supplies.

“Yuta, what’s all of this?” you ask when you help him bring in bags of spices, butters, and decorating tools.

“My promotional week is done and I have our well deserved rest! I am going to be productive and bake for you every day!” he smiles like a little kid who just get a chocolate and you can’t say no to him.

“Oh no, not every day Yuta!” you joke as you help him organize the spices into the kitchen racks.

He brought different types of flours and sugars, even bought yeast and baking sodas. Oh he really is planning to bake!

“Well, I have to finish some works have fun baking! Make sure you wear the apron and don’t set the oven too high. Wash the bowls too okay.” You pat his long hair and skip into your room.

Yuta takes his time to shower, sing in the bathroom, check the internet for easy recipes and even compare recipes from different websites.

His choice finally is decided on the famous banana cake, it doesn’t require mixer and he notices you have bananas at home.

“Flour, bananas, eggs, butter…” he bends to take the things out and places them all on the counter. Next he brings out the bowls and whiskers and the rest of the stuffs he needs.

“Okay all set,” he rubs his hands and takes the apron you have. Yuta’s lucky he can use your apron well, (thanks to his small waist). “And where is it,” he walks to the living room to get his small rubber band and as he bites the rubber between his teeth you happen to leave your room to get some water.

“Oh!” you exclaim when you see a hot scene reveling in your eyes. If you bring something, you’d drop it already.

There under the golden hours of the sun from the window, Yuta is tying his hair up and his lip bites is not helping you. Not to mention the apron fitting him well. You kinda regret not buying a “cute” apron.

“Let me help,” you grin when Yuta fails to tie his hair. Somewhat in the middle of tying his hair we was surprised to see you gawking at him. He blushes a little when you step closer and take his hair into one bundle and expertly you tie the band around it.

“There you go! Neat and tidy.” You click your tongue and run a hand down his exposed biceps.

“You’re teasing me, aren’t you?” you playfully ask him this when you learn just how “dolled” up he is. In your apron, smelling good, looking hot, and smirking.

“As much as you want me to tease you, see that?” he points to the kitchen and you follow his finger direction “I am baking you cake.”

You lead him to the kitchen, cool yourself down with a glass of iced water and Yuta starts to busy himself with the recipes.

He starts by measuring the cups of flour, sugars, and spoons of cinnamon and baking soda.

You choose to observe him instead of coming back to your work. You’re glad you have saved your works earlier and don’t have to return for it.

Yuta looks super serious when he cracks the eggs and starts mixing them to the dry ingredients. You take note at how accurate he is, you learned about the small details about baking through your rubric.

“Need help?”  you ask when Yuta starts to whisk the mixture together. He brings his bowl to his waist and with his tilted head and angled hand, he starts whisking the batter.

You have to hold yourself back when you see how he looks delicious right now. With an apron, a tied hair, tongue sticking out of his lips from focusing, his flexed arm and how he smirks at you. Gosh he’s the real cake here! You wonder how will he react if you suddenly come and bite him there on his neck which is inviting you to bite a mark there. Hey mark!

“No, I got this.” He winks at you and continues whisking the ingredients. Another minute passed by, he adds the mashed bananas and some cut apples for better taste. You focus on his actions but mostly enjoying the show he gives to you.

“You look hot.” You blurt that out loud as you secretly eat the choco-chips he will add later. “You think I look hot? You haven’t seen me whisk a whipping cream or make a meringue!” Yuta says as h places the bowl down and begin doing the next step.

You lean over the counter, eager to see what he is doing next. “Okay, all set just add choco-chips and stir and pour to container.” He smiles nicely to you, expecting to get praises or just a satisfied face. But all Yuta sees is your side smirk.

Yuta can always read you like a book, so without losing his cool, he checks you up from head to toe. He notices how you’re not focusing on him, biting your lips, and your ears and cheeks are as red as strawberries right now!

He connects the dots in his head and snaps his finger in front of your face. You jump in surprise “What?” you yell, clearly annoyed that your fantasy session is destroyed.

“No you’re staring at me too intensely! Stop it,” he acts like his innocence just got violated.

You click your tongue “Yuta, blame yourself!” you pull your hair in despair when you feel your body heating up more and feel tingles slowly creeping up.

Yuta is ignoring you when he shows off his flexibility by bending forward to put his container in the oven. “And that’s the right temperature, now we wait!” he tosses the mittens aside and leans his body to the table you’re seating at. He glances to the cup of water with only ice cubes left, he grabs it up and swirls it around before sipping the remaining drops.

“What are you looking at Princess?” his playful remarks are slipping from his lips. You bite your lips down and try to shake whatever idea you have in your head after seeing him drink the last drop of water like that is the best water in the world. His Adam’s apple bopping is not helping you at all, you lick your lips and lowkey will kill him for making this looks so yummy and advertise-able.

“Nothin’” you lie though it is as clear as day that you are “eating” him in your mind.

“You sure? You don’t look like that.” He says and then knocking the glass to his lips to take the remaining ice cubes in his mouth.

You nod your head and turn redder if it’s possible. Dang Yuta is clearly teasing you and you love it. “I-“ you can’t stop your sentence for the next thing he does is taking your lips there with ice cubes in his mouth. The cold sensation wakes you up from your day dream and you press your hands over his trained arms. He passes the cube into your mouth and you’re surprised with this new sensation. Oh Yuta and his surprises!

He continues taking you there until there’s no more cubes left and both of you are already breathing harder and the atmosphere has turn super hot. Next thing you know, you’re already on the sofa pinned down by Yuta as he teases you with butterfly kisses here and there.

“Yuta-“  you moan out his name when you have the chance, your hand pulls on his hair so he can stop kissing you for a while “Your cake.” You breathily remind him about the cake in the oven.

“Hm? My timer hasn’t gone off.” He ignores your attempt to stop taking you here.

“You want this right? Or do you want to eat me instead? You really look desperate earlier.” He nuzzles into your neck and gives some generous kitten licks there.

“Oh you were teasing me!” you defend yourself “Admit it.” You push him away to see his eyes and get the truth out, but Yuta is Yuta and he always has his way of making you lost. “No, I did not. You were this turned on by me, that you were having such sexy thoughts in the middle of the day.” His hand travels south and you already stifle a moan so he won’t be cocky about it.

He already plays with the hem of your pants, only seconds to pulling them away and eating you raw there, but his timer goes off and he has the biggest grin on his face, while you the biggest disappointment. “Yuta!” you’re already sounding so desperate, tears are forming in your eyes and Yuta only chuckles, he wipes your tears and stands up from between your legs.

“Oops! My bad, cake is done! Why don’t we try it when it’s hot?” he leaves you to turn the oven off and takes the cake out. He left you like that! All teased up and messy.

“Yuta- you will pay for this.” You groan before ignoring the pain from the edged pleasure and stomping your feet angrily to the kitchen.

“Come try this, tell me if this is good.” He offers you a forkful and you angrily chomp down on it.

“Bad.” You mutter, as you cross your hands over your chest but still chew on the delicious cake.

“Bad? This is so yummy! I can take this to the boys, and they’ll ask for more.” Yuta towers above you.

You pout “Fine, its yummy.” Your hand reaches out for some more bites, but you stop and shake your head “You. Finish what you did to me, or I cannot enjoy my cake.”

He giggles and in one swift motion already has you in his arms “Alright my princess, let me enjoy my cake instead!” he brings you to the room and you’re already giggly again, giving him kisses and playing with his hair.

You swear you will kill him if he only leaves you in the room and goes back to eat his cake in the kitchen, lucky you he did not do that. You both know that the cake will be cold once you’re done with the session but who cares when Yuta can bake more of them!

 And that is probably how you end up putting a bun in the oven with Yuta!

fin.

[pink-imagines]

hand print

request: i just had an idea lmao so i read your bakugou x baker! s/o hcs and i can totally see him smacking your ass and leaving a flour handprint 😭you don't know its thwre  (continuation): oops lol i sent that before i finished it lol but imagine him not telling you its there and everyone sees it and they're like 👁👄👁

click here to read the head canons i made that inspired this

a/n: i am so rusty at writing so this turned out... well weird.

warnings: ass grabbing

masterlist

requesting rules

You hadn’t gotten a chance to bake in a while. Work always got in the way and your free time was spent relaxing from the amount of work you had. So you had done it. You had worked day in, day out to get an entire week off. Not only that, you had planned to meet up with your old school friends in the middle of that week.  Up to that day you had been making small muffins and even bread, since everyone was coming over to your place. Of course, it wasn’t only your place - you were currently living with your long time partner, Katsuki. The two of you had been a bit on and off since UA, but had finally moved in together after so long. One thing had never changed during all those years, he still loved to tease you when you baked. Baking had been your hobby since you were a kid and, instead of putting his amazing cooking skills to use and help you, he opted for standing beside you and doing everything he could to distract you. Though many would find this act annoying, you found it quite endearing. He wasn’t being mean to you, on the contrary actually. Katsuki tried to do everything he could to make you flustered, just to see how much you could take before you were bound to mess something up. This “distracting” could be anything from suddenly really wanting to dance with you to having to kiss every inch of your body for some unknown reason.

It was the day when everyone was supposed to come over and you were of course planning on making your famous macaroons. To do that you decided to get up early, since your guests would be coming over around four. This idea wasn’t something that Katsuki enjoyed. Not only did he have to spend time with a bunch of people when he could’ve just spent the day off he took with his significant other. He also had to wake up to an empty bed that morning, which according to him was entirely unacceptale. Katsuki decided what he was going to do as soon as his eyes opened to see you walk out the bedroom door what he was going to do.

“You’re wearing jeans at home?”, he questioned as soon as he walked out of the bedroom and saw you in the kitchen. “It’s just so that I don’t have to change later.”, you looked down at your black jeans, “They look okay right?” “You look great, babe... but why jeans.”, he sighed and wrapped his arms loosely around your frame. “It’s not that uncomfortable you know.”, you said and kept mixing your batter that you had prepared the night before. Katsuki’s arms stayed wrapped around you as his chest pressed up against your back. His chin later found your shoulder and placed itself there. “You didn’t have to get up now too, you took the day off.”, you smiled slightly at the memory of you having to beg him to take the day off for today. “... the bed gets too cold without you.”, he muttered. “Are you kidding me? You’re like a personal heater! How can my lack of presence make it cold?”, you chuckled, “If you mean that you missed me you could’ve just said that.” “Well, I didn’t mean that.”, he huffed and took a step away from you. “Lies.”, you teased and pointed your finger at him, “... I missed you too, either way.” You enjoyed seeing the way that his ears went slightly red at your comment. He could easily hide his facial expressions and even the blush on his cheeks, but his ears always went red when he was flustered. “It’s nice to have a week off so that I can spend all the time I can with you.”, you admitted and went back to your baking.

When you had almost finished the macaroons the guests were supposed to arrive in half an hour. Katsuki had been cleaning around the house, all whilst insisting that he really didn’t care if the guests found the apartment messy. However, when you were putting together the finishing the last few heartshaped macaroons before you could put them in the oven he had just gotten out of the shower.  “Katsuki, could you help me put some powdered sugar on the cake I made yesterday?”, you asked him. “You know, you really do too much sometimes.”, he commented whilst getting the powdered sugar out of the cupboard. “I like baking, otherwise I wouldn’t do this.”, you explained. “Jeez this shit really sticks to you easily.”, he said as he opened the packet. “Yeah, be careful you won’t ever get it off that t-shirt - especially since it’s a dark color.” If you had turned around at that moment you would’ve seen the gears in Katsuki’s head turning as you said that - but alas, you were left unaware of his newly found idea. Once he had finished decorating the cake he set the plan into work. “Hey baby...”, he said sweetly and wrapped his arms around you from behind once again, “... you know they won’t be here for a while...” “No, Katsuki.”, you said sternly. “Please, baby?”, he asked and placed a few soft kisses against your neck. “... I know what you-... don’t try me, Bakugo Katsuki.”, you stammered out as your face started getting more and more red. “You’re really cute when you get so flustered over the smallest things.”, he smiled and pressed a kiss to your cheek. As he walked away from you he smacked your ass and you let out a yelp in surprise. “Hey! You ruined this one!”, you pointed to the now ruined macaroon. “All the other ones are perfect, honey.”, he assured you with a grin. You huffed and returned to your baking, unaware of the powdered sugar print, in the form of a hand, on your pants.

When the first guests arrived you were still finishing up putting your pastries on plates, so you asked Katsuki to welcome them. Once you were finished with the last plate you carried them out to the kitchen table where some people were already seated, talking, while a few others were walking around, looking at your decour. “That looks amazing, Y/N!”, Uraraka complimented as she sat down. “Thank you, I haven’t been out of the kitchen since my break started.”, you smiled, “It’s nice to bake stuff again.” “Do you need any help taking out the rest of the plates?”, Katsuki asked, already walking past you towards the kitchen. “Yeah sure there are a few left.”, you turned around and were about to start walking when someone gasped. “Is that a handprint?”, Mina asked and hurridely walked towards you. “Huh?”, you tried turning to her but she kept you still. “That’s way to big to be your hand...”, she commented. “I don’t see the big deal...”, Shoto said from across the room. “Clearly, Mina is insinuating that someone grabbed Y/N’s bottom.”, Iida explained. “Don’t say bottom, Iida.”, Kaminari groaned. “I’m putting my detective spectacles on!”, Mina pretended to put on glasses, as Katsuki walked back into the room.  You were stood there, frozen, while looking at your boyfriend with an angry look. Of course he would do such a thing! While everyone looked at Katsuki putting down the plates, Mina had little to no patience. As soon as the plates were on the table she grabbed Katsuki’s arm. “Oi! Watch it, pinky!”, he exclaimed. “Just lemme borrow your hand real quick!”, she argued back. An annoyed sigh escaped your lips but before you could speak you felt a hand carress your ass, again. Mina had pressed Katsuki’s hand on the handprint to see if it would match. And of course it matched! It was his! As if the man you had decided to live with couldn’t annoy you more he decided to gently squeeze. “Hey!”, you yelped and turned around. “It was him!”, Mina revelled in her findings. “Yeah, who else would it even be dumbass?”, Katsuki scoffed and went to sit down when someone grabbed his arm again, “What?!” “... Katsuki...”, your grip tightened around his bicep, “You did this?” He gulped.

Let’s just say... he might be one of the best heroes in the country, but he’ll never stop being scared of you when you’re angry.

-

permanent taglist: @theoceanphoenixhasrisen | @raven-r0ses | @darkbeautyswife | @sondering-thoughts | @gowoneandonlyone | @bnhabadass | @queenblackcat | @jayetheanimefreek101 | @witchy-anna | @cutest-celestial-princess | @missymysa | @karebear5118 | @weebartistinc | @crystal-lilac | @brithedemonspawn​ | 

[liquorisce]

decisions, decisions pt 2

Fandom : Bleach 

Pairings : Ichihime (ft. some ichi x ishi bickering which we love around here)

Rating : T

Part 1

A/N: A few months ago I wrote a post-tybw-karakura-gang-finishes-high-school kinda thing called ‘decisions, decisions’  ft career choice discussions and orihime thinking of leaving town for uni. I wanted to write some more of that stuff and more ichihime pining obvs, so here it is. also i hate myself for not being able to participate in ichihimeweek2020, i suck, but anyway, ‘nuff with the nonsense, here’s the fic: 

(ps: pls be nice to me and like/reblog/comment or whatevs and tell me what u think, ily thx)

...

It’s five minutes to two, and Ichigo fought to stifle a yawn. The menacing five hundred pages of English grammar exercises in front of him wasn’t helping. 

“... Unbelievable,” he curses, slamming the book shut, much to the annoyance of his bespectacled classmate sitting across him. “Why the hell can’t they just teach us proper English in school?! I’m absolutely fucking positive that Honda-sensei didn’t mention more than three tenses in her class. And what kind of English lesson takes place in Japanese anyway?!” 

“... Quit your whining, Kurosaki. Some of us are trying to study here.” 

Ichigo fumed. By ‘some of us,’ Ishida was pointedly referring to just himself and the long-haired beauty sitting right opposite him, who, judging by her giggling at his outburst, welcomed his distraction. The same giggling that was contributing to the problem, contributing to Ichigo’s immense distraction since after dinner. 

“You’re not even human, Ishida,” he says dismissively. “Keigo’s literally made his bed on my dad’s couch, you can hear his goddamn snores, and Mizuiro left to ‘watch the stars’ with some new girl thirty minutes ago.” 

“You’re the one who invited us over to your place for an all-nighter group study session and you’re calling it quits before the sun is up? As expected, you’re weak.” 

He was right, this had been Ichigo’s idea, Yuzu had offered to make them dinner and his dad had plans tonight, so they were guaranteed some peace and quiet. Despite the noise and the chaos of their group, he missed hanging out with his friends. Ever since the school had given them voluntary study holidays for the upcoming University Entrance Exams, he didn’t get to see much of everyone, as they were either studying or training for competitions. Even today, Tatsuki and Chad left after dinner because they had to get up early for practice and they had decided they wouldn’t be giving the exams anyway. 

Ignoring Ishida’s pointed attempts to rile him up, he turns his attention to Orihime, who despite enjoying their banter, was more focused on the cram book in front of her.  

“Inoue, how are you still so motivated and so… awake?,” he asks, exasperated. “It’s almost 2 am! And you’ve been scribbling away furiously for the last thirty minutes. What are you even studying?”  

“Mouuu, you’re right. I’m not able to solve this proof anyway. Maybe I should call it a night?”

“Electromagnetism?” Ishida asks, skimming the title of the chapter, “Oh, I’ve done this one, I can explain this to you if you want.”  

He doesn’t know what irritates him more, Ishida’s nerdiness, or the soft look in his eyes as he unfailingly offers to help Orihime out, as he’d been doing a lot more of late, ever since they had started studying for the entrance exams together. In fact, it’d been this way this entire evening, starting from when he took a seat right next to her at the table as if he fucking belonged there, leaning over into her notebook, whenever she needed help, his arm casually brushing against her long, silken locks, her answering smile bright and incredibly close to him, and - Ichigo forces that thought to a halt because it has him gritting his teeth.  “... For God’s sake, give her a break,” - 

“... Shut up, Kurosaki, not everyone is applying to study *English* in University”- 

“And what exactly do you mean by that, asshole?” Ichigo snarls, with more venom than needed, because despite having had enough with Ishida’s condescending attitude towards his study choices, his recent behaviour had Ichigo prickling under his skin.  

“... Err, Kurosaki-kun…” Orihime starts, because she’s used to Ichigo and Ishida arguing (they’re just being affectionate, she always insists), there’s a glint in Ichigo’s eyes that’s different.

“... Exactly what I said, some of us don’t have the luxury of skipping the math and science exams,” - 

“Ah, Kurosaki-kun is right! I think my brain really can’t function anymore tonight,” Orihime declares loudly, inserting herself in between them. “Kurosaki-kun, I think I will leave now. Thank you so much for hosting us today.” She bows, her formality annoying him even more, but still throwing him off guard.

As always, Orihime’s pleasant demeanour diffused the rising tempers… somewhat. With one last glare, Ishida grudgingly agreed, “Then I guess I will take my leave as well.” 

Ichigo wants to be polite and say something like, “we should do this more often,” but he’s pissed off, and couldn’t wait to be rid of Ishida’s arrogant mug, so instead he offers, “Inoue, can I walk you home?” 

He doesn’t notice the faint red on her cheeks or the hesitation on her face, when she mumbles, “If it doesn’t inconvenience you.” And he’s torn again - tearing his eyes away from the pretty blush dusting her cheeks unable to stop himself from wondering bitterly if she’d let Ishida walk her home without much protest.

“Ishida lives in the other direction and it would be out of his way, so I don’t mind.” 

“Well then,” Ishida says, looking at her with more fondness than Ichigo would have liked, “Your eyes are all red and puffy. Sleep well. Don’t strain yourself, okay?”

“Yes sir,” she gives him the salute, “... good night!” 

“... And text me that you got home safe. This idiot can’t be trusted with anything,”- 

“... for fuck’s sake, just go home already!” 

“Kurosaki-kun,” she whispers, amused, as she watches Ishida walk away with a cheeky grin on his face, “you’ll wake the neighbours with your angry yelling.”

“Ah, you’re right,” he mumbles, rubbing his neck sheepishly, as their footsteps fall into place beside each other, “I’m sorry for all the swearing, I don’t know why I let Ishida under my skin so much.”   

“Hmmm,” she says, “It’s kind of cute, your bickering. If this were a yaoi novel, I’d totally ship it!” 

“... what the hell?!” His face is red, not just because the thought of him… and Ishida… Ew. But also because this is coming from Orihime, the last person he’d ever expect to engage in fantasies of this sort.

Giggling, she quickly switches to a more somber note. “You seemed... on edge today. Did something happen between the two of you?” 

He doesn’t know how to answer that question. Truth be told, he’s barely able to understand it himself. Sure, there was the usual trading of insults that took place between the two of them, but it was different this time. His whole demeanour just pissed him off. The way he always seemed to know what Orihime was asking, the way he was always able to help her, the familiar way he spoke to her… and the revelation that they’d been studying together for weeks now! 

“I don’t know,” he sighs, because he can’t even explain what he is feeling, let alone the reason behind it, “... I guess it’s just the stress of the exam.” 

“Ugh, tell me about it,” she whines, “I’m so thankful Ishida-kun is giving the same exams as me, and we can share practice questions and tips. I really wouldn’t be able to do this alone.” 

He ignores her mention of him and the tick in his jaw in reaction. “But I don’t get it. You’re giving almost all the exams. Why?!? There’s surely no need.” 

She blushes, ashamed, “I know it sounds stupid, but I really haven’t decided what I want to study in University. I figured if I just gave all of the exams, I would have more options to choose from.” 

“... Come on,” - 

“... And I will also prefer to go wherever I get a scholarship.”  

His fist clenches, “... So you’re definitely applying outside of Karakura?” 

“Yeah, although I’m not sure if there’s any point. It’s so difficult to aim for the National Universities, I’ll never get through. But the counselor says it’s worth a shot for the scholarship.”

“... I thought your aunt was helping you with tuition?” 

“... Only till high school. And I cannot burden her anymore. I’ve received so much from her already.” 

Ichigo doesn’t miss the way her voice wavers at the end, the guilt evident in her words. And he can’t stand it. “... Cheer up,” he says softly, playfully elbowing her. “You’re one of the smartest kids in school. Rank #2 after all the shit we went through last year! If anyone can do it you can.” 

“... You think so?” she mumbles, looking up at him, her insecurities heartbreaking in the grey of her eyes.  

Everything about her is so honest, it hurts him a little bit because his first thought is to say no, to talk her out of it, because the revelation is too sudden, too jarring - he can’t bear  the thought of this town without her. But he nods, smiles encouragingly, because that’s just way too selfish.

Shaking his head out of these thoughts, he asks, “... what was the counselor’s recommendation, again? As a career path?” 

“Ah, Hirata-san said maybe I should just follow my love for baking,” she says, smiling. 

“... and? Why don’t you consider that? You wouldn’t have to give these blasted exams then.” 

He liked the idea of this, now more than before, momentarily regretting his role in convincing her to apply to university. Orihime working in the local bakery, coming around his house everyday to share the leftovers, staying back for dinner maybe… 

“... but Kurosaki-kun was the one who said I wouldn’t be very good at it!” She pouts, “You said I’d make too many things in weird flavours and nobody would want to buy them.” 

Crap. He truly felt like waltzing back in time and whacking the past version of him for saying something like that.  Because if it were anyone else shitting all over Orihime’s dream, he’d have sent the punk flying. Where were all these feelings coming from anyway?! 

“... Shit, I didn’t mean,” - 

“... it’s okay, you’re right. And besides I can work there part-time through University. I was thinking…” She took a deep breath. “Well, actually, it was Ishida-kun’s idea. Maybe I could study to become a doctor? My strength is in healing people anyway…” 

Ichigo rolled his eyes. "Well of course, he'd say that. He's going to study medicine too." And of course he would try to talk Orihime into it. The bastard had taken every opportunity to slither by her side - 

She laughs, a pretty sound, interrupting the profanity in his mind. "Yeah, he did say it would be nice to have some company… but I'm not sure." Sighing, she asks, "How did you decide on English Studies?" 

It wasn't too difficult for him honestly. It helped that he was fairly certain he didn't want to study math or science going forward. "... I like stories. And I want to be able to read and share stories in a global medium, so I decided to study English." 

He looks at her only to find her looking at him in fascination, "... Truth be told, I didn't spend too much time thinking about it. The career aptitude test returned similar results as well, so I just went with it." He shrugs, "I think I'll enjoy it. Let's see." 

"Ahh, you sound so optimistic about your studies, Kurosaki-kun. I wish I could be like that." 

They've reached her apartment building now and she turns to look at him, wistfully. He wishes he could do something for her, ease her anxieties in some way. 

"What about you?" He asks. 

She looks at him, puzzled.  

"... You've told me all about what everyone wants you to do. What do you want to do? I'm sure you must have some inkling." 

“... I,” she stops, opens her mouth again to say something, but nothing comes out. “... what I want… ah, you’ll probably think it’s silly.” She smiles wistfully to herself, because this wasn’t something that she’d ever admitted out loud.

He rolls his eyes, “... Try me.” Because she was many things, and yes, definitely silly sometimes in that unique way of hers, but he would never, could never, call her dreams silly. It’s a moment of realization for him, when he gets angry with the way she dismisses her own dreams that way, and he feels overwhelmed with the desire to pick them up, and keep them safe where no one can trample them, along with that spaced-out, wistful smile of hers. 

“Well,” she gulps, nervous, “I’ve never really thought too much about going to university. Sensei says I’m wasting my potential... but honestly, I think I’ll be happy working.” 

She looks at him unsurely, waiting for a reaction, an opinion, like everyone else. Everyone who’d been urging her to continue school and pursue all kinds of studies that she could possibly do, but… “I just - I want to build a simple life with someone I love. A family, maybe, someday.” 

It comes out so fast, she wishes she could grab the words and shove them back in her mouth. She chances a glance at him, her cheeks hot and furiously embarrassed. 

His expression is unreadable as he gazes down at her. She’s beautiful in the moonlight, he thinks, and it isn’t really a revelation to him, but the melancholy of her beauty is, the loneliness that he wishes he could extinguish as easily as he does hollows. “A simple life huh…” he murmurs. And he can almost picture it, Orihime, ten years from now, a child in her arms, a little boy maybe, with her wide brown eyes and - 

“Well, looks like you have planned it out better than any of us,” he manages hoarsely, unable to look her in the eye anymore. Not with all these… feelings simmering so close to the surface. And before he can help himself, “Do you already know who this mystery man is?” 

He’s come to realize how absolutely unequipped he is to hear the answer, but her unassuming statement has already taken residence inside him somehow, a burning sensation accompanying it. 

 His question jolts her into consciousness, and she notices they’re almost at her apartment. “Ah Kurosaki-kun is very curious today,” she laughs nervously, “only one confession per day! That’s the limit!” The fake cheer in her voice grates in her own ears but she hopes desperately it will steer him away because she’s this close to telling him sometimes, and this was one of those times. Especially in these rare moments when she feels an odd mixture of weakness and greed, where she wants to latch on to him and ask him to stay by her side, hoping selfishly that his kindness will make him say yes. But Orihime was practiced at hiding those feelings away. 

 “Is that right,” he smiles teasingly, albeit weakly, “... I didn’t know you were so mysterious, Inoue. Well goodnight, then.” 

And as he watches her climb up the stairs to her floor, and then lean over the railings to wave goodbye one more time, he can’t help but think of that image of her again, happy and in love and so beautifully fulfilled. And he thinks of the shadow of the man next to her, who will protect that dream and that smile, and his stomach clenches bitterly. 

“You deserve it,” he whispers to her retreating figure, “... You deserve all of it.”

- fin - 

A/N : The ending was cheesy, I KNOW UGH

[starryseo]

friend? [2 - fluff ending]

Group: Seventeen

Member: Hansol Vernon Chwe

Genre: slight angst & then it’s kinda fluffy i guess????

Word count: 1212 d a m n  

a/n: uh so i didn’t really want to do the whole reader confesses their love & it turns out Vernon had loved them the whole time too but i did want a happy ending sooooo theres this crap. also, i swear there actually is dialogue in this but it’s just kinda near the end lmao good luck.

friend? [a] ; part 2 [a] ; part 2.5 [f]

3 months. You never thought they would have lasted long – hoped, desperately, that they wouldn’t have – but the couple surprised you greatly. Each day you bitterly wished that they would grow further apart, praying that the distance that swelled between them would push Hansol into your arms for once, but you were wrong. Absolutely wrong, since, just yesterday, they had celebrated the 91 days’ mark. You didn’t want to seem like a jealous girl, pining hopelessly after a boy who had eyes for another, but ignoring a crush like that was strenuous in many different ways.

There are many ways, however, to overcome unrequited love – you still couldn’t bear that term, but it is what it is. You had searched high and low on the Internet for the solution to your wilting love life, advice ranging from “don’t take it personally!” to “personifying your feelings” ­– whatever that means. But you made a list. A simple, three-step list to getting over this.

Step one – Grieve (today there is sorrow, for happiness tomorrow!):

People may call you weak – a coward for not confessing and claiming Hansol as your own – but you had to accept what was blatantly in front of you: Hansol was in a happy, committed relationship, and, as a decent human being, you had to respect that, not try to sabotage it. So, instead, you grieved. You drowned yourself in damp tissues and sappy romance films, tears rolling down your face as When Harry Met Sally played for the third time that week, brownies and ice cream your only company. Your blanket was your only fort, the walls around your heart having been torn down unknowingly, but you no longer cared.

Once you had finally memorised the script to practically all of Nicholas Sparks’ works, you had decided that it was time to move on to the second stage…

Step two – Distance (try to create some space and perfect your poker face!):

Ditching the constant calorie-infused snacking made up of popcorn and nachos, the mirror became your best friend. No, you weren’t going to fake a smile to create this happy façade of yourself – you’d do one better: act happy until you actually became happy. As stupid as that sounded, the next few weeks of practicing it had actually made a difference. You stopped checking your phone every other minute to see if Hansol had replied, and started filling your time with more productive activities. You read, you drew, you baked, and you forgot about your phone and laptop since they were buried underneath all the homework you had just completed. It helped. Doing maths equations may not be your forte, but at least it filled your mind with something other than Hansol. Granted, you didn’t completely disappear off of the face of the earth, you would still see him around school and such, but limiting those interactions slowly helped you focus on the world that, surprisingly, didn’t revolve around Hansol. You spoke to different people in your class, made new friends, and still managed to reply to Hansol’s messages at every other hour. Now, instead of waiting for a possible “morning!” text from him, you got up, got ready and ate before leaving, only using your phone to blast some tunes as you got changed. You treated him as you would any friend, and soon enough the smile you wore when you were around him and Mina was no longer forced.

Time for the final step.

Step three – Rejuvenate (with feelings that are new, bid the old adieu!):

Maybe you would never completely get over him – there will always be parts of him that you would adore and admire, like the fact that he’s such an easy person to speak to and be honest with, but you could admire that from afar. Instead, you revelled in your new-found feelings of platonic love. The term platonism no longer sent you spiralling into despair, but made you think of how far you had come. Yes, he was still cute, but so was that guy in English, so you could deal with that. A cliché final step you continuously came across when you first needed getting-over-Hansol help was about dating others, but you’ve come this far getting over one crush, moving on was a problem for a different day. You waved goodbye to the feelings that you had once harboured for Hansol, and embraced the fact that, now, you could hug him without your heart palpitating. You saw him as just what he was: your friend. Your best friend who you had not had a three-hour long conversation with in forever. So, for the final step, you worked on bettering the ‘best’ part of best friend. There was more to life than hopelessly loving one man, and you found comfort in him being your friend more than anything.

And, with that, you whipped out your phone that Wednesday evening for an all-nighter on Snapchat with Hansol.

-

Hansol had groaned for the fifth time during registration.

“We get it, you’re an idiot that slept late, but can you shush? Your yawning is killing my vibes.” As usual, Seungkwan was the only one in a joyous mood that morning.

“It’s not my fault – it’s [y/n]’s! You just had to turn saying ‘good night’ into a competition, didn’t you?” He glared at you as he said that last part, before hitting his head against the table multiple times – to wake him up or end his misery, you hadn’t the slightest idea.

“I did no such thing! I replied to you and then you sent me ‘bye’ again, so you started it!”

“O.M.G! No one cares!” And, although there was a smile on Seungkwan’s face, you could see the corners of his lips tremble with frustration.

“Whatever, did you do Chemistry homework?” You asked, taking pleasure in how his face dropped and he started scrambling through his bag.

Hansol’s head also shot up, whispering, “There was Chem work?”

You shook your head, grinning as Seungkwan was still oblivious to your lie. Finally, the bell rang, Seungkwan sprinting out, exclaiming something about “finding someone smarter than you losers to copy work from!”.

You and Hansol both rolled your eyes at his antics, praying you could escape his wrath when he finds out there was no homework.

“Hey, Mina and I were going to head over to the Cinemas on Friday, you coming?”

“I’m not gonna’ be some awkward third wheeler, am I?” You wouldn’t have minded joining, but you still wanted to give the two of them space.

“Nah, she’s inviting some other friends, too. If anything, I’m gonna’ feel alone with all these girls around.”

You rolled your eyes at what he said – the man was an expert at socialising, so now he was just spewing lies, “Well, I guess I could spare some time to help you out since you’re so desperate–”

“You act as though you don’t love hanging out with me,” he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, practically dragging you to the next lesson, and you smiled. Not because oh, wow, he’s basically cradling me but because your poorly-written, three-step method to a free life had actually worked, and you were on your way to becoming the best of friends once more.

a/n: idk i kinda like how this turned out purely bc i didn’t write about the reader and hansol getting together in the end bc that’s not the only way to have a happy ending ya feel??? So yh hope you enjoyed lmao

[softforhenry]

Dean’s Birthday Week

Now that they’re officially together, Cas wants to celebrate Dean’s birthday. For a whole week. Dean isn't really able to protest.

A/N: This is basically my excuse to shower Dean with love the whole week <3   I have one story planned for each day of the next week, but I gotta admit that only the one for tomorrow is written completely at this point and I’m terrible at keeping deadlines for my writing *hides* I hope I can finish this little series on time for Dean’s actual birthday, but I can’t make any promises.

There are some slight canon divergences, because I don’t like some storylines from s12 as of yet. Mary never pulled the disappearing act on her boys, but stayed with them at the bunker for a while before moving into her own apartment close by. She also bakes pie. Cas is human now, his grace having been torn from him along with Lucifer by Amara. Lucifer was defeated same as in 12x08, but never spawned Lucifer junior. So TFW got a much needed break over Christmas and Dean & Cas finally got together.

I hope you enjoy this first part :D

Also on AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/9379160

Part 2 >>

January 18th, 2017

When Dean stumbles into the kitchen that morning, the first thing his sleep-addled senses register is the smell. A wonderful, almost heavenly smell, that puts his mind back in time shortly to when he was only four years old and trying to help his mom bake with his small hands, succeeding mostly in making a mess out of the kitchen. She never seemed to mind though, and the fleeting memories of those times are one of Dean’s most treasured ones.

As he peeks around the bunker’s kitchen now and spots a freshly baked pie on one of the counters, he can’t help a grin. His feet take him across the room on auto-pilot and ten seconds later he has a fork in his hand and moans around a mouthful of the most delicious pie he’s tasted in a very long time.

“Well, that didn’t take long,” comes his brother’s amused voice from behind him, but Dean can’t be bothered to stop shoveling that sweetness into his mouth long enough to form a proper reply. “Shut up,” he manages, a few crumbs falling from his lips. He watches them fall down onto the counter mournfully, while Sam winces in exaggerated disgust.

Sam comes to stand next to him and pours himself some coffee while Dean tries to suppress some of the more indecent sounds that threaten to escape him. Not that he would usually care about making his little brother squirm in embarrassment, but he can admit that he probably owns Sam a little reprieve after catching him and Cas practically naked on one of the library tables two days ago. Dean still can’t really muster up a lot of remorse about the incident, not with the way Cas had looked at him when Dean dropped to his knees in front of him just before the interrupting sasquatch appeared. But he can behave. For a few days. Maybe.

That doesn’t mean he has to like it, after all this thing between him and Cas is so new, like not-even-a-month-new, so no one should blame them for not being able to keep their hands off each other. Also they have lots of lost time to make up for and even more unresolved sexual tension and longing (“pining” was the word Sam used, but Dean chose to ignore him) to work out of their systems.

“Where did you get this?” Dean finally asks, as he puts a second slice on a plate and takes a seat across from his brother at their breakfast table.

Sam shrugs. “I didn’t. Cas dropped it off ten minutes ago.”

That brought Dean to a halt. “Why?”

He gets a weird look from Sam at that, but can’t ask what it’s about as Cas chooses that moment to stride into the kitchen, a smile breaking out on his face when he notices Dean being up and the half eaten slice of pie on his plate. “Good morning, Dean,” he greets warmly and then he’s already at Dean’s side, dropping a small kiss on his lips.

Dean can’t help the way he awkwardly rubs his neck after Cas pulls away and ignores Sam’s gleeful smirk at the PDA. “Morning, sunshine,” he replies, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth at Cas’ joyful look at the nickname.

Dean doesn’t even know when it’s started to become a thing, but putting that look on Cas’ face has become his number one priority every morning. It never even seems to take much for it to appear nowadays, it proved enough two days ago for Dean to bring Cas coffee in bed, which honestly had more to do with self-preservation than any kind of crazy urge to get out of their warm bed before five in the morning.

But Cas had promised Claire to drop by early for some research on a murder two towns over that might be one of their kind of cases. It turned out to be a lone werewolf and they hunted that thing down yesterday, getting back to the bunker late at night with only some minor scratches. Anyway, waking Cas up that early without caffeine in his vicinity turns him into one grumpy little guy with a permanent I’m-gonna-smite-you-look, and Dean tries to avoid that as much as possible since they started sharing a bed. It was much nicer to have Cas gaze at him with pleasure and affection, even if it means wandering the cold hallways of the bunker at such unholy hour.

“Did you sleep well?” Cas asks, still staring at him with a soft smile.

Dean nods, while he marvels shortly at the fact that he does sleep well lately. The nightmares still come and go, but they’re getting less frequent and not as intense as they used to. Sometimes Dean wonders if Cas has still some angel mojo left and uses it to help him sleep peacefully, but deep down he knows that the reason behind it is how content and – dare he think it – happy he’s been during the last few weeks.

Shaking himself from the curls of unease tugging at his mind at the thought that happiness never lasts long in their family, he eats another piece of his pie which proves to be the perfect distraction. He moans a little in pleasure at the taste. “Seriously, Cas. You gotta tell me where you bought this.”

“I bought most ingredients at the farmers market Sam showed me last week and baked it myself,” Cas replies like it’s no big revelation. At Dean’s incredulous look, he adds sheepishly, “Well, I had some help. Your mother allowed me to use her kitchen and gave me instructions.”

“You baked this yourself?” Dean still asks, surprised. He remembers how Cas almost burned down their stove when he tried to make some eggs about a month ago.

Cas only nods, looking proud.

“But why?” The question once again bursts out of Dean. A short look at the clock tells him that it’s not even nine in the morning, which means Cas probably got up in the middle of the night to drive over to the small apartment Mary rented close by after she decided to settle down for a normal life. Of course, Dean had hoped that she would stay with them at the bunker, but at the same time he’s relieved that she doesn’t actively hunt with them all the time. The anxiety over having something happen to her would probably give him a heart attack sooner or later.

“It’s your first gift,” Cas answers, as if that explains everything.

Gift? His first gift? For what? Did Dean already forget some kind of important date? They haven’t even been together for a month and he tries to remember if today is any kind of special occasion, but comes up blank. He risks a glance at Sam, hoping for a clue, but his brother is busy stealing a portion of his pie to taste it.

“Hey, get your own!” Dean exclaims and tries to grab at Sam’s hand, but he’s too slow to stop him from eating it. He glares darkly at Sam’s smug face for a second, before turning back to the more pressing matter of figuring out why the pie is even here to begin with.

“So, um, it’s a gift? And we’re celebrating…,” he trails off, trying to prompt Cas into finishing the sentence for him with the actual reason for said celebration.

“Yes, I have a few things planned,” Cas says unhelpfully, an excited glint in his eyes.

“Okay, that’s – that’s nice, Cas,” Dean stutters and takes another bite from his pie, while wracking his brain to figure it out.

It’s Wednesday. January. The eighteenth. The eighteenth? That makes him pause. The night in that barn in Illinois is suddenly vividly replaying in his mind. They first met on the eighteenth of September. Maybe, now that they are together, Cas sees it as some kind of anniversary.

He glances at Cas carefully, not wanting to offend him for trying to do something nice, but he doesn’t really get celebrating now in the middle of January. “Listen, Cas. I appreciate it,” he starts and notices Sam looking at him sharply at that, but he soldiers on anyway. “But don’t you think it would be better to do this at a later point?”

Cas frowns, obviously confused. “No. I’m planning to celebrate the whole week.”

“You’re plan- what?” He can’t have heard that right. Or maybe he’s dreaming this whole conversation. And the delicious pie. Which would be a shame, really.

“Dean, your birthday is in six days. And considering how many of them you haven’t celebrated, I want to do it right this year.” Cas fixes him with a stare that allows no argument, even while Dean gapes at him like a fish out of water.

Because, what the friggin’ hell? He hasn’t even given his upcoming birthday more than a passing thought, and now Cas wants to celebrate the whole week?

“That’s really nice of you, Cas,” Sam chimes in, trying to back him up. That traitor.

“Come on, you can’t be serious,” Dean scoffs, feeling very much uncomfortable with the impending attention all of this implies. His birthday is nothing special. They never did anything on that day, except drink some beer together if they’re lucky and not elbow-deep in some monster guts instead.

A pained look crosses Cas’ face and he clenches his jaw. “I am very serious,” he replies and takes Dean’s empty plate. Dean worries for a moment that Cas is so pissed at him that he’s going to take away the pie, because he can handle some pie as a gift, that’s totally okay, and Cas shouldn’t throw it all away because he’s being a jerk.

But Cas only cuts off another, rather big slice and sets it in front of him. His pinched expression softens again as he sits down next to Dean.

“I want you to enjoy this, Dean,” Cas tells him, so earnest and loving that Dean can’t form another protest.

“Okay,” he hears himself say and even though he has no idea what he’s gotten himself into by sort of agreeing to this whole thing, he feels something warm settle in his stomach that has nothing to do with the pie.