#totally gonna have an apple AND a salad tonight
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#tooth trauma tw#the last shard of my wisdom tooth FINALLY came out#fucker was a whole 6 millimeters long and about 3 millimeters wide; no wonder my tongue was still irritated#i thought it was a stitch that just hadn't dissolved yet but lol nope#must have been one of the pieces that flew all over the place when my tooth broke mid-operation#y'all my mouth feels mostly normal again!#totally gonna have an apple AND a salad tonight#fucking finally#shut up ace
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I successfully recipe tested a gluten free challah tonight (working on finalizing my rosh hashanah menu), so that will be happening later this week again. Gluten free enriched breads can be challenging!
It's not *technically* hamotzi (I have not successfully made a GF challah that is mostly oat flour because the texture becomes gummy or crumbly and the flavor is meh) but I've managed to get it to about 30% of total flour volume by weight. Frankly, I'm of the opinion that since it has oat flour in it, I'm gonna call it "good enough" - the enemy of good is perfection, sometimes. I've bought Orly's mixes before (which *are* hamotzi) but the texture was dense and dry, and the mix is way too salty.
So far, it'll just be me, Cat, our kid (maybe), and maybe my best friend and her family for Shabbat dinner this week after shul on Friday. (We'll be at a friend's home for lunch/dinner on 1st day of Rosh Hashanah). So I'm making a Pomegranate chicken dish, a herb salad with apples, challah, a scalloped butternut squash, fennel, and sweet potato dish (sorta reminiscent of ratatouille), a rice pilaf, and turkey kitzitzot with Swiss chard, and a fruit salad (probably consisting of watermelon, apples, strawberries, and black berries). I also am making an apple cake for dessert.
Everything leans a bit more savory than what is normally served for the holiday by our friends but my family (except me) doesn't like sweet and savory dishes so I am limited by their dislikes and have to find a way to make dishes that they will eat.
Does anyone else have extremely picky eaters that they have to try to navigate creating menus for to accommodate for holiday/shabbat meals?
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VALERIE - Part VIII. (Harry Styles)
i can’t believe we are slowly nearing the end of this story, don’t forget, we only have two more parts left!! please leave a feedback/coment/like/ANYTHING if you liked this part, it means so so soooo much to me!!
word count: 5k
SERIES MASTERPOST
masterlist
Harry can be such a persistent pain in the ass sometimes. You haven’t decided if you like it about him or not. If he makes up his mind about something it has to be that way, no objection.
He texted you in the morning that he would be coming over to your place after work, because he is looking after Valerie for the night, for the first time ever and he needed you to tell him everything he needs to know about taking good care of her.
“I think Rosa will tell you all about it when they arrive. I got a list from her as well,” you tell him when he calls you during your lunch break.
“I know she will, but I’m a single man, it’s bold of you to think I know anything about babies.”
“What are you talking about? You are always so good with her. I’m sure it’s gonna be fine.” Steven has a business dinner tonight and Rosa was invited as well. You know that because they asked you first if you could look after Valerie, but you had already made plans with Marcus, so you had to turn them down. Guess they found someone who is free, but it seems like Harry is a little panicky about it.
“Is it not the best time to admit that I have no idea how to change a diaper properly?”
You laugh at his question and you can almost picture the worried look on his face, lips pressed together and that little crease showing between his eyebrows.
“Then why did you say that you’d look after her?” you ask giving your salad a shake before you start eating.
“Because Rosa sounded so desperate, and I wanted to help. I thought I would figure it out, even googled it, but I’m not sure I have the right idea about everything.”
“What do you mean you googled it?”
“Well, if you’d look at my search history it would be filled with maternity sites where they describe in detail how to wipe a baby’s ass,” he states, making you laugh once again.
“You’re nuts,” you sigh, shaking your head. “Unfortunately, I have plans tonight, so I don’t think I can help you.”
“When?”
“Um, Marcus is picking me up at seven.”
“That’s perfect, Rosa and Steven will drop Val off at mine at four, so I’ll have plenty of time to go over to yours so you can show me everything.”
“Harry, I’m working until five.”
“Alright, I’ll be right there at five thirty.”
“Harry... “ you chuckle, shaking your head.
“Please, Y/N! I’m begging you! This is a kinda life or death situation. You can’t do this to me! You still owe me for the time you were looking over her!”
Closing your eyes you lean onto the table. You already know you’ll say yes, how can you not when he is right about owing him one, but you should really learn how to say no next time, before people start to see you as the loser who just does as she is told all the time.
“Okay. I’ll be home by five twenty.”
“Fucking perfect. I’ll see you later,” he cheers before ending the call.
Turns out he is quite punctual, because just as you walk around the corner you see his car parked in front of your building and you just smile. He spots you from the rearview mirror and gets out, unbuckling Valerie from her seat as well.
“They left you the seat as well?” you ask and help him get the huge bag Rosa packed for Valerie.
“I told them I need to do groceries so Steven left it for me.”
Valerie babbles to Harry relentlessly, who occasionally hums a response as the three of you go up to your apartment.
“So, what exactly do you want me to show you?” you ask, setting the bag down on the couch as Harry puts Valerie down on the plush rug to wander around a bit as the two of you discuss what he needs help with.
“Diaper change, feeding and burping. I think I’ll be alright with the rest.”
“Okay, first of all, she doesn’t need to be burped, she’s old enough to skip that. Only try that if she is fussy after eating,” you tell him and he nods, mentally taking notes. “Alright, let’s see a diaper changing. How many did Rosa leave for you.”
“Oh, she left a bunch but I dropped by the store and bought another pack just to be sure. Let me grab it from the car.”
Harry runs off, in the meanwhile you sit on the floor with Val and get everything you need from the bag to change her. You figured he just bought a smaller pack in case he might mess up the first few times, but when Harry returns he has a huge pack under his arm, written on the side you see that there are 92 pieces in it.
“What the fuck, Harry? Are you trying to supply her for the rest of the year?” you snap with a laugh.
“I panicked, don’t give me shit about it!” he whines joining you on the floor.
You put an old blanket down and grabbing Valerie you make her lie on her back as Harry opens the mega pack and hands you a clean diaper. You go over the whole process step by step, making sure you cover every detail that might come to you naturally but wouldn’t be that obvious for Harry. He intently watches your every move, at one point you almost expect him to get a notebook and pencil to take notes.
“Okay your turn. Let me see what you learned.”
Scooting over you let Harry take your spot and his hands carefully reach to get rid of the diaper you just put on Valerie, who is still carelessly babbling around, stuffing her fingers into her mouth without a worry in the world. She surely doesn’t give a damn about being experimented on.
Harry’s fingers work delicately on her, doing everything just as you told him and he even folds the used diaper in a prettier way than you did.
“See? It’s not that hard. Just expect some poop in it the next time,” you tell him and laugh at the grimace that tugs on his face.
“How often do I need to change her?”
“Just… give her bum a sniff now and then, you’ll know when she has left a gift for you.”
“Awesome,” he sighs nodding. “Okay, now onto the feeding.”
It’s been a while since the night you looked after Val, since then Rosa has stopped breastfeeding so she is now fully on baby food from any store and basically anything pureed. Rosa packed a few different kinds of foods and wrote on the list that Valerie has been a fan of smashed apples, banana and peas.
Harry takes her to his arms and sits at your small dining table as you get one of the baby foods with a small spoon and her bib.
“Feeding is nothing special, just make sure to give her small portions and wait until she swallows everything. But she is a calm eater, so she takes her time tasting everything and then swallowing it,” you explain to him and show him what you just said, bringing some food to her mouth on the spoon. Harry watches her take it, some of it ending up on her lips and you wipe it off with the spoon when you pull it out of her mouth.
“See? She is quite chill, you have nothing to worry about,” you tell Harry. Some babies tend to turn feeding into a race and they want to get as much food into their mouth as possible at once. Valerie is a luckier case in this field. “Wanna try?”
Harry nods and you drop the spoon into the jar, putting it to the table before you take Valerie from his lap. Once again, he is doing perfectly fine, feeding her just the right amount and wiping the excess off her lips and cheeks easily. He had nothing to worry about.
“You’re doing great, as if you were a natural,” you tell him smiling and you swear you see him blush.
“I’m a little far from that. I’m still in panic that I do something wrong.”
“It was a bold move to say yes to Rosa if you are so worried how you’d do.” Harry keeps feeding her, eyes focused on the spoon and the little girl sitting on your thighs.
“Rosa sounded really desperate, I wanted to help. That’s what godparents are for, right?”
“I guess,” you nod. You watch him treat her so delicately and gentle, before you could even stop yourself, your thoughts wander over to imagining him be just like this with his own baby.
The thought of Harry being a dad and taking care of his baby has a weird and surprising effect on you. You imagine him doing all these everyday things like feeding her, playing with her, falling asleep on the couch with her curled up on his chest. You’d give an arm to see him like that, the vision of a curly haired little girl playing all too vividly in your mind. You see him having a girl, that’s what feels right for him. He would definitely make her feel like a princess and a total daddy’s girl.
Your eyes wander over to his arm where his tattoos are showing from under his rolled up sleeves. Surely soon enough Valerie will be coloring the many shapes and maybe one day he’ll do the same with his daughter. There’s no doubt Harry will be an amazing dad.
Realization hits you hard that how badly you want to witness all of these and it gets to your head a little too heavily, feeling your eyes tearing up a little. You need to take a few deep breaths that draws his attention to you.
“You alright?” he asks, furrowing his eyebrows at you as Valerie finishes up the lasts of her meal.
“Yeah, I just… I need to start getting ready,” you say clearing your throat as Harry takes Val from you. “Feel free to stick around,” you tell him making your way to the bathroom with the sheer intention of having an ice cold shower before you lose your mind over your wandering thoughts.
Harry seemingly takes up on the offer and stays, playing with Valerie in your living room while you soak yourself in the freezing water. It helps though, you feel a lot more put together when you walk out, wrapped in your fuzzy bathrobe, your damp hair falling to your shoulders.
“Feel free to get anything from the fridge, by the way,” you tell Harry as you move into your bedroom to start getting ready.
“Thanks, but I’m alright,” he calls back. “Where are you two heading tonight?”
“Just this new Indian restaurant Marcus has been wanting to try out.”
“Sounds nice.” Harry walks into your bedroom with Valerie in his arms as you sit at your vanity and get started on your makeup. You watch him from the mirror as he slowly walks around your bedroom, just looking around, examining the framed pictures and little memories you keep on your walls, shelves and dresser.
You catch his smile when he sees the photo you and him got from Rosa and Steven, you put it next to a childhood photo of Rosa and you.
“You had braces?” he asks looking at that photo.
“For three years.”
“Well, they surely did a great job on your smile,” he teases you. You know you had a quite crooked smile back then, it was actually your idea to get braces. One insecurity off the list once they straightened your teeth, a lot more to deal with that couldn’t be fixed that easily.
Harry continues to snoop around as you do a quick, natural look, just the bare minimum. You don’t necessarily like wearing much makeup, but you like what just some mascara and blush does to your appearance. You leave the room a little to blowdry your hair and when you return, Harry is sitting on your bed, eyes watching over Valerie, who is playing with one of your pillows that has a fuzzy cover on.
You catch Harry’s eyes from time to time as you loosely braid your hair, watching yourself in the mirror. He always smiles when your eyes meet. When you’re done with everything at the vanity, you step to your small closet to find something to wear. You narrow down the choices for three dresses, but you can’t quite decide which one would be the best.
“Wear the light blue one,” Harry speaks up, grabbing your attention.
“I was thinking about that one too.”
“You wore it to dinner once a while ago. It looked great on you.”
“You remember it?” It’s a surprise he remembered since it was quite some time ago, more than a year, to be exact. You weren’t on good terms back then, but it seems like he still had an eye for the small things.
“Yeah,” he chuckles softly, his cheeks turning red again as he turns back to Valerie. You grab the dress from the hanger and go to the bathroom to change.
It’s one of the kind of dresses that just don’t let you wear a bra, but you’re fine with that, because the final look makes up for the discomfort it causes. You try your best to pull the zipper up, but your flexibility didn’t get any better through the years. A heavy sense of deja vu comes over you as you walk back to your room, holding the dress to your chest. Harry looks up at you curiously and you don’t miss how his eyes wander up and down your body.
“Could you please zip me up?”
“Sure,” he breathes out as he gets up from the bed and steps behind you.
It’s just like the day you met, you suddenly feel like it’s years ago and he is helping you zip up your bridal dress. His fingers brush against your skin the exact same way as he pulls the zipper up, and his fingertips even run over it once it’s all done, like they did back then. You wonder if he thinks the same or it’s just an irrelevant little moment to him, nothing more.
Stepping to your mirror you take a look at yourself, Harry standing a few steps behind you, his eyes taking in your look as well. For a moment you doubt this is the look you should go for, but as if Harry could feel your hesitation he steps forward and his eyes catches your gaze in the mirror.
“You look amazing. Marcus is a lucky guy.”
Turning around you smile at him breathing out your thank you.
It’s nearing seven so you quickly pack your bag and choose a coat that goes well with your dress while Harry packs Valerie’s stuff. Just when you put on a pair of white heels your phone starts ringing and Marcus’ smiling face appears on the screen.
“Hi, I’ll be right down in a second.”
“Great, see you in a bit.”
When all three of you are ready to leave you lock the door and you head down. There’s a heavy silence between the two of you in the elevator and you don’t know how to break it, but it’s almost painful.
“Call me if you are having trouble with anything,” you tell him as you walk through the hall, out of the building.
“I’m not gonna ruin your date night, but don’t worry, I had a great teacher,” he smiles at you. Marcus is parked right behind Harry’s car and he gets out seeing you walk out of the building. “Hi Marcus!” he nods in his way.
“Hey, didn’t know you were here too,” he smiles nicely and as he steps to you he presses a soft kiss to your lips.
“Just needed some help with this little Princess, but we are off. Thanks again, Y/N,” he smiles in your way as he buckles Valerie up in her seat.
“No problem.” Stepping to the car you peek inside catching Val’s attention. “Be good and don’t give Harry a hard time, okay?” you tell her and she just stares back at you with those curious eyes of hers. “See you later,” you tell Harry nodding his way before following Marcus to his car.
As you sit in the passenger seat you watch Harry start his car and drive away and suddenly you wish you were sitting in his car. Your heart is aching to spend the rest of the evening with him and Valerie.
The guilt quickly kicks in when Marcus asks about your day. You definitely shouldn’t be thinking about being with Harry instead of your boyfriend who did absolutely nothing to deserve to be thrown away.
You try your best to forget about Harry and focus on Marcus, because that’s the right thing to do.
It takes all your energy to stay present and focus on your surroundings and what’s happening to you, because every other minute you find yourself thinking what Harry and Valerie are doing right now and if everything is alright. You try to tell yourself that if something was wrong he would text or call you, but he said it himself he wouldn’t want to bother you during your date.
“Is there a specific reason why you are paying absolutely no attention to what I’m saying?”
Marcus’ voice snaps you back from your thoughts once again and you feel the heat crawling up your neck to your cheeks.
“Sorry, I just… I’ve had a tiring week.”
“You know, that’s totally fine, but you don’t seem to share it or anything without me asking about it. Is it something I do or you are just… not planning on letting me get closer to you anytime soon?” You can feel the little harshness in his tone and he has all the rights to be annoyed at you, but you still feel the need to defend yourself.
“That’s not true. I just tend to keep things to myself.”
“It’s fine, but building up a relationship kind of requires a lot of talking. I want to hear about whatever it is that’s on your mind. How else should I help you or be there for you if you keep shutting me out every time?”
“I’m sorry if it’s coming off this way, but I’m just… not used to this.”
“To what?”
“Having to always think about someone else too, not just myself. I know it sounds selfish, but I’ve been on my own for a long time, I need time to adjust to the changes.”
“You know that I wouldn’t push anything on you and that I’m gonna wait for as long as you need, but… sometimes I feel like you’re not even trying.”
“I am trying!” you snap, feeling yourself growing frustrated that he is questioning your efforts even though deep down you know he is right. “I do want to share things, it’s just…”
I don’t want to share them with you, you think to yourself and the thought makes you shudder. The worst thing is that in the back of your mind you know exactly who you want to share things with.
You shake your head with a defeated sigh. It’s a dead end and you clearly need to make a choice if you want to climb the walls and see what’s on the other side, even if it’s just another dump filled dead end, or you could just turn around and walk away with the possibility that you’ll never get to see what’s on the other side.
Part of you is struggling with opening up to Marcus because deep down you know he might not be the one for you, but the other part is violently holding onto him because… if it’s not gonna work out with him, who else will it? Marcus is everything any girl would wish for in a guy, nice, funny, good looking and caring. There is nothing you could bring up against him except that you just have this weird feeling in the back of your mind. If you can’t make it work with him, who else could you possibly try with? You constantly feel like you’re running out of time and chances. The music might still be playing and there are plenty of empty seats, but it will eventually stop and you don’t want to be the one without a seat.
Dinner cuts quite short as your little fight poisons the mood pretty fast. Clearly, Marcus is fed up because of your behavior while there’s nothing you really can or would do about it, so the drive back to your place is quiet and tension filled. He kisses you goodbye when he drops you off, but it’s more like a dry peck on the lips before you basically escape from his car.
You are quick to get rid of your dress and change into sweatpants and a hoodie, the urge to call Harry and check in on him takes over your thoughts quite fast and you find yourself calling him.
“Y/N, hey!” you hear his voice on the other end.
“Hi, how is everything going?”
“Everything is fine, I just gave her a bath, we’re gonna watch some cartoons and then I’ll try to put her to sleep. Are you already back from your date?”
In the back you can hear a shriek from Valerie and Harry coos at her, that’s followed by a giggle from her.
“Um, yeah. I…” sighing you close your eyes. You feel like an idiot, but it seems like you just can’t deal with your feelings tonight, so why not completely give up? “Can I come over?”
There’s a short pause before he answers. “Sure, of course. But is everything alright?”
“Yeah, I’m just… I don’t want to be alone.”
“Alright. We’ll be waiting for you right here.”
You call an Uber and in thirty minutes you are walking up Harry’s driveway. The lights are on inside and the nerves you’ve been fighting on the way here feel to dissolve quite fast, as you think that he is still up, even though he told you he’d be waiting for you.
You ring the bell and just a few seconds later Harry opens the door, Valerie in his arms, now wearing a pink onesie with the hood on her head.
“Hey, come inside,” he invites you in. “Can I get you anything?”
“No thanks, I’m fine.”
“So,” he sighs after locking the door and turning to face you. “Wanna talk about it?”
“Is it okay if we don’t?” you ask biting into your bottom lip. You know he is probably dying to know what made you want to come over and that you probably should tell him since you are seeking shelter at his place, but you just don’t have the energy to talk about it.
“Totally fine,” Harry smiles and you return it with a quiet thank you. “I was just about to put Val down to sleep, wanna join us?”
“Sure.”
You follow him to his bedroom where the same portable bed is set up that was in your just a few months ago. Harry lays her down bringing a blanket over her as you sit next to the crip while he grabs the book Rosa packed. Harry joins you on the floor, your legs mingling as you sit facing each other and Val can see you through the sheer side of the bed.
You watch her in awe as Harry starts reading a story, Val listening to his deep voice as if she understood every word that left his lips. A few pages into the story you see her eyelids slowly close and she eventually falls asleep, her little chest rising and falling steadily.
The two of you tiptoe out of the room so you don’t wake her up.
“I’m gonna make a tea, you want one?”
“Yes please.”
You walk into his kitchen and while you sit on a stool at his kitchen island he starts the kettle and digs into his little box that’s filled with filters.
“Apple and cinnamon?” he asks, holding two filters up and you nod your head. When the water boils he fills up two mugs and throws the filters into them before placing them on the counter in front of you.
“You know, I’m a little mad you had it so easy with her,” you point it out with a smirk, making him laugh.
“I made it up with the panic at the beginning.”
“You really had nothing to worry about. You did great.”
“Thanks,” he chuckles shyly. “Y/N?”
“Hm?”
“I know you said you don’t want to talk about it, but I just need to ask. You’re not feeling down because Marcus did something to you?”
You smile at how careful and protective he is. Shaking your head you turn your gaze to the mug in front of you.
“No. It’s just…” You have to take a deep breath as you feel the tears forming in the corners of your eyes. “It’s stupid,” you breathe out shakily. Harry notices what’s going on and sliding off the stool he steps to you enveloping you into his embrace as you curl your arms around his torso and bury your face into the soft fabric of his shirt on his chest.
You really didn’t want to cry, especially not in front of him, but it’s been piling up for a while and tonight has been a little too hard for you.
“Shit, now I’ve cried in your presence twice,” you sigh with a shaky chuckle as you let go of him and wipe your cheeks.
“Actually, it’s been three times,” Harry huffs with a smirk.
“What?”
“You cried at the wedding too, when we were talking outside.”
“Amazing,” you shake your head with a bitter laugh. “I don’t even remember that.”
“No surprised, you were quite drunk by then,” he chuckles. “But it’s alright, don’t worry about it.” There’s a pause where neither of you really knows what to do or say. You feel like such a cry baby for breaking down at such a simple question, but Harry couldn’t know how deep it was digging.
“Hey,” he speaks up finally. “Wanna watch a movie? I have quite a few movies saved on Netflix that I’ve been trying to watch.”
The small smile on his lips eases your nerves almost instantly and you nod with a thankful smile. The two of you move into the living room and he puts on some kind of romantic comedy as you get comfortable on his huge L shaped couch. The movie is not the best you’ve seen, but it’s good enough to stop your racing thoughts and relax for a while.
When you know it’s nearing its end you think about if Harry will tell you to leave or let you stay. Because selfishly, you want to stay, and not just sleep on the couch. You want to sleep next to him like at Christmas. You miss what it felt like falling asleep with his arm wrapped around you and that’s exactly what you need today.
When the movie ends, you glance over at Harry who is examining the carpet, clearly thinking about something really hard, but you make the move he probably wasn’t expecting.
Boldly, you stand up and just simply walk into his bedroom where Valerie is still sleeping in peace. You climb up to his bed and make yourself comfortable under the covers, waiting for his reaction with your heart pounding against your ribcage.
You hear his tapping footsteps and you wait for him to arrive with your eyes closed. It’s just a soft huff that comes from his way when he stops at the door seeing you all curled up in his bed, but he doesn’t say a word. You hear him shuffle around a little before the mattress moves under you and he lies next to you. When he stops moving you turn around so you are facing him, only making out some of his features in the dark, but you can tell he is looking at you.
“Harry?” you whisper.
“Yes?”
“I’m gonna be a little more selfish now,” you say without any further context.
“Okay,” he breathes out, clearly curious what you meant by that, but he quickly figures it out when you move closer and cuddle to his side, laying your head to his chest. You tell yourself that it’s okay, you can be selfish sometime and just do whatever feels right. This is exactly that, just an act of selfishness because you want to be close to him, feel the warmth of his body and not feel so lost and alone for just one more night.
When you feel his arm weigh down around your shoulders, a wave of relief washes over you. Everything that’s been bothering you quickly fades and it’s just the two of you, lying in his bed in silence, but it has never felt better.
You think about how you would be okay with feeling like this every night for the rest of your life and you wouldn’t ask for more. Nothing would really matter if you could end your days like this.
But then you remember that you might be alone with this thought. That you shouldn’t let yourself get fooled just because he was there for you when you needed him. Maybe you didn’t even need him, just someone and he happened to be the closest. But you figure that’s not true, because you wouldn’t feel the same way with someone else.
You think back to when he apologized about everything he said after the wedding. He said that he was sorry and he shouldn’t have been such an ass to you, but he didn’t say he would act differently if it was to happen again. He would probably still end it right there, just in a nicer way and it makes you think that it’s all just his friendly side, nothing more.
And the thought that you are alone with this heavy and confusing feeling scares you to death, because you have no idea what you’ll do when you lose control over it.
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Hello! You’re such a talented writer! Can I please request Tom x reader where they are bestfriend and the reader visit Tom when he’s filming. All of his co stars were teasing him because they’re acting like a couple even though they claimed to be just friends. Thank you!
If We Were A Movie
Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader
Masterlist
Requests are CLOSED
You get it a lot.
“Your boyfriend left his wallet.” A lady ran up to you in a coffee shop and handed you Toms wallet.
“Oh, thank you.” You gave her a tight lipped smile and accepted the wallet. You turned around and jogged to catch up to Tom with an annoyed look at your face.
“What’s wrong?” Tom laughed when he saw your face. “How did you get annoyed so quickly? We just left the shop.”
“Nine!” You held up nine fingers with Toms wallet still in your hand. “Nine times!”
“You got called my girlfriend again?” Tom asked, knowing exactly what you were referring too.
“No. This time you were called my boyfriend, which makes nine times this week.” You said with exasperation. Tom shrugged and looked ahead.
“Hey, it was twelve last week.” He offered as he opened the passenger door for you.
“Tom, it’s only Tuesday.” You sighed as you handed his his wallet and climbed into the car.
“I know, darling. I’m sorry. I know how insulting it is to be mistaken for my girlfriend.” Tom said sarcastically, and a little hurt.
“I just wish people believed that we’re only best friends.” You sighed and squeezed his hand. He accepted your apology and kissed the back of your hand before starting the car.
That’s how most of your conversations went.
“Ready to order?” The waiter asked Tom with his notepad ready.
“She’s just in the bathroom.” Tom nodded towards your empty seat. “I’m gonna go with the pasta though.”
“No problem.” The waiter said as he wrote it down. “And for your girlfriend?”
“She’s gonna have the apple salad.” Tom said with a smile as he closed his menu. You didn’t tell him your order, he just knew.
This was an everyday occurrence.
“Would you and your boyfriend like a photo?” A lady with a camera came up to you as walked arm in arm towards the exit of a museum.
“Sure.” Tom laughed at the annoyed expression that crossed your face as he pulled you in to pose for the photo.
Red carpets had a field day with the two of you.
“Tom! Toms girlfriend! Over here!” The camera men barked when he’d drag you along to a movie premier.
“They pronounce my name so funny! I��ve never heard someone say “Y/n” as “Toms girlfriend” before!” You whispered sarcastically into Toms ears, making him laugh as the paparazzi snapped away.
“Well, I think “Toms girlfriend” looks beautiful tonight.” Tom whispered into your ear among the noise. You looked at Tom fondly and hide your face in his neck, not wanting the paparazzi to see you blushing. You ended up making the picture they got your background, so it all worked out in the end.
His friends took notice as well.
“You totally hung up on me last night to talk to your girlfriend.” Harrison huffed as he walked into Toms room.
“She needed attention. I know because she texted me the words “I need attention” in all caps.” Tom explained, not even bothering to correct him about the nature of your relationship.
“But we were in the middle of a game!” Harrison whined.
“I’m sorry. She’s just more important than 2k.” Tom laughed.
Seriously, you couldn’t get away from it.
“Excuse me?” A girl tapped Tom on the shoulder, making him stop. You stopped walking when you noticed he wasn’t behind you, just out of earshot. You saw him talking a pretty girl and felt a weird feeling in the pit of your tummy.
“Your girlfriends hair is tucked into her sweater.” The girl explained to Tom as she pointed at you. You wondered what they could possibly be talking about.
“I’ll tell her. Thanks.” Tom smiled at the girl and skipped back to you. Even though it bothered you, it made Tom happy how easily you could be mistaken for his girlfriend.
“What did that girl want?” You asked when Tom approached you.
“She told me to tell you about your hair.” Tom explained as he scooped your hair out of your sweater and laid it neatly on your shoulders.
“Oh, thanks.” You said as a different feeling filled your tummy.
Tom didn’t help your case, of course.
“Who’s this?” Jake asked when you visited the Far From Home set for the first time.
“This is the special girl in my life.” Tom introduced you with his hand on your lower back. “This is Y/n.”
You shook Jakes hand, concealing how star struck you were, and smiled.
You couldn’t really blame people for thinking what they did.
“Tom! Your girlfriend is here.” Jacob called when he saw you approaching the set.
“Y/n is here?” Tom looked up from his script and looked for you.
“I thought she wasn’t your girlfriend?” Jacob asked, recalling the dozens of times you’d corrected Jacob when he called you and Tom a couple.
“She’s not.” Tom stammered, forever forgetting you two weren’t actually together. “I just knew you meant her.”
Seriously, everyone thought you were a thing.
“Hey man. I just met your girlfriend.“ Zendaya smiled as she took her seat next to Tom on the classroom set.
“Oh you met Y/n?” Tom replied with a grin. He always loved when his friends met his best friend. He didn’t even bother to correct Zendaya and tell her you weren’t his girlfriend. The boy could dream, couldn’t he?
“Only for a little while. I saw her by the snack table just now. We just said hi and had a bit compliment battle. She’s so pretty, I couldn’t believe it. What’s she doing with guy like you?” Zendaya teased as the camera men prepared to begin filming.
“Aw, thanks Zen-DIE-a.” Tom faked a smile as he purposefully mispronounced her name. “Did she happen to say she was my girlfriend?” He wondered why Zendaya thought they were dating if she’d never seen them together.
“No.” Zendaya realized and shook her head. “I just assumed because she was wearing a hoodie with your last name on it.”
“Oh, okay. Just wondering.” Tom smiled and got ready to deliver his lines, an extra burst of confidence coursing through him to know you were wearing his hoodie.
His costars made a point to tease him over it.
“Are you wearing a helmet?” Jake laughed as Tom approached the set. They were rehearsing a stunt scene and Tom had shown up in some questionable attire.
“Dude, stop. I promised Y/n I’d wear it.” Tom grumbled as someone began to harness Tom in.
“I get it. Your girlfriend wants you to be safe.” Jake nodded in agreement but made a face to Jacob behind Toms back.
“She just gets worried.” Tom said as he buckled his helmet, wondering why Jacob was suddenly doubled over with laughter.
Meanwhile, you waited patiently behind the cameras for Tom to finish filming. You were in a constant state of anxiety as Tom jumped from platform to platform to perform his stunts. You were just glad he wore the helmet.
“Alright. Shackles are off.” Tom shook his harness off after the rehearsal and made his way to you. You instinctively threw your arms around his sweaty torso.
“I was so nervous when you were up there.” You said Into his neck. Tom chuckled and held you closer.
“Don’t worry about me, baby. I’m a superhero.” Tom assured you, ignoring the kissy faces Jake was making behind your back.
It’s not like you didn’t give people a reason to think you were together.
“Hold.” A man with a clipboard yelled. “Tom, you need to lose the bracelet.”
“Right, sorry.” Tom called back and went to unclasp the bracelet before realizing the predicament. He grimaced and looked back at the man. “I’m sorry. I actually can’t take it off.”
“Why not?” The man called again, losing patience.
“It’s one of those lock and key bracelets.” Tom explained. “Y/n wears the key around her neck as a necklace. I need her to open it.”
“Isn’t that just adorable?” Jacob gushed from somewhere behind Tom.
“So you’re one of those couples.” Zendaya smirked.
“Is your girlfriend here?” The man with the clipboard asked with a sigh. Tom smiled a little at his words. He never even called you his girlfriend. It was just common knowledge around set now that you were.
“Yes. She’s in my trailer.” Tom called.
“Oooo.” Jacob cooed. “In your trailer?”
“She’s probably still resting. I’m sure they had a long night.” Jake said with a devious grin. Tom turned around and shot daggers at his friends.
“Shut up.” He snapped before turning back to the man. “She’ll be here. Just call her.”
The man let out another sigh before grabbing the radio and speaking into it. “Will Toms girlfriend please come to set?”
You were studying in Toms trailer when you heard the announcement. You perked your head up and furrowed you’re eyebrows. Was that directed at you? You decided to ignore it and go back to studying.
“She has a name.” Tom annouced to the crew, knowing you wouldn’t know that announcement was for you. “Her name is Y/n.”
The man gave Tom a death glare before picking the radio back up. “Will Y/n please come to set?”
You looked up again and set your textbook down. That one was definitely directed at you. You hustled to set and found Tom amongst the crew and cast.
“I was called?” You asked. Tom gave you a sheepish grin and held out his wrist.
“I need to take the bracelet off.” He said, gesturing to the silver band on his wrist with a heart shaped lock. You laughed and stepped closer to him, pulling the key you wore around your neck out from under your shirt. You stuck your key in his lock and twisted it, releasing the clasp on the bracelet. You caught it in your hands and slipped it into your pocket as Tom gave you a grateful smile.
“There you go.” You returned his smile, unaware of the cast and crew gawking at the two of you.
“So how long have you two been together?” Jake interrupted, causing panic to fill Toms eyes. You looked at him curiously before turning to Jake.
“Oh, I’m not his girlfriend.” You told him, and were instantly met with a rush of shocked murmurs from the crowd. You looked at Tom for answers, who looked like he wanted to disappear. He gave you an apologetic smiled and laughed awkwardly.
“Yeah, funny thing.” He said as he scratched the back of his neck and avoiding the piercing gaze from the crowd. “We’re not actually a couple.”
“Aren’t you Y/n?” An extra asked.
“Yes.” You nodded, still lost.
“The one Tom’s always on the phone with?” Jake pressed.
“Yeah.” You said with an awkward smile. Why was everyone so shocked that you weren’t together? Did Tom tell them you were?
“The one he talks about all the time?” Another extra chimed in.
“I guess.” You blushed a little upon learning this information.
“The one who has has visited him on every set since The Impossible?” Jacob asked.
“That’d be me.” You confirmed.
“The one he literally introduced to me as ‘the special girl in his life’?” Jake said in disbelief.
“She is my special girl.” Tom said quietly as he dug his toe into the floor.
“So you are his girlfriend.” Jake said.
“No. Still not.” You shook your head. Everyone looked at you like you had a third eye. You felt awkward and out of place and made an excuse to leave. “I really gotta study, but uh, I’ll see you later Tom?”
“Right. See you later.” Tom cleared his throat and looked at the ceiling. You gave him one more confused look before retreating to his trailer.
“I thought she was your girlfriend.” Zendaya looked at Tom for answers as soon as you were out of earshot. Tom wanted to run away and hide. He gave an awkward chuckle instead.
“I never said she was.” He said weakly.
“But you never corrected us when we said she was.” Jake pointed out. Toms face turned red as his friends stared him down.
“That…is true.” He admitted.
“You let us believe she was your girlfriend this whole time.” Jacob said pointedly.
“That is also true.” Tom said.
“So what are you guys?” Zendaya asked.
“We’re best friends.” Tom said with fake confidence. Even he didn’t know the answer to that.
“So she’s single?” Jake asked with raised eyebrows. “In that case-“
“Ah Ah Ah.” Tom held out an arm to stop Jake. “Absolutely not.”
Jake held up his hands and changed the subject to the stunts they went over the day before. Tom sighed in relief and got through the rest of his work day with a grain of salt. He dreaded seeing you and having to explain himself. He took a deep breath before entering his trailer to face you. You were curled up on his couch in one of his shirts with a textbook on your lap. Tom smiled fondly at the sight.
“Hey Y/n.” He said sheepishly. You glanced up at him and looked surprised.
“Who’s Y/n? My name is Toms girlfriend.” You asked with a fake smile as Tom took a seat next to you.
“I’m sorry about that.” Tom scratched the back of his neck and put a comforting hand on your knee.
“It’s fine. I actually love having to explain to Jake Gyllenhaal that I’m not dating his costar.” You quipped, not glancing up at Tom. He knew he messed up. He rested his chin on your knee and an idea popped into his head.
“I know how to make it up to you.” He said deviously.
“How?” You asked skeptically, looking at him through your eyelashes. He smiled like a child and leapt off the couch.
“Cause no one ever looks so good in a dress and it hurts 'cause I know you won't be mine tonight.” Tom sang at the top of his lungs, making your jaw drop. He never sang, despite his beautiful voice and your constant begging to hear it. Yet here he was, belting One Direction completely unprovoked.
“You are not serenading me with One Direction to get me to forgive you.” You told him. He shook his head at you and jumped up on the couch, singing into your foot like a microphone.
“No one ever makes me feel like you do when you smile, baby tell me how to make it right.” He sang even louder, making a smile appear on your face.
“Tom, stop.” You said, as if you ever wanted him to stop.
“Now all my friends say it's not really worth it, but even if that's true.…” he held the note out and jumped off the couch.
“Really. I have to study.” You protested, shaking your textbook in front of his face.
“No one in the world could stop me from not moving on, baby even if I wanted to.” He got on his knees next to you and cupped your face before singing the final line. “Nobody compares to you.”
“Tom.” You whined, ignoring the way your heart pounded in your chest at his touch.
“Come on, darling. Sing along.” Tom tugged on your hand before letting it drop.
“No. You’re being a bad boyfriend.” The words flew out of you mouth before you had a chance to stop them. You clamped a hand over your mouth and your eyes widened in shock at your own words. Tom stopped singing and looked at you in bewilderment. You made eye contact with him and gave him an embarrassed smile. He gave you an over dramatic surprised face in return and touched a hand to his chest.
“I’m being a bad what?” Tom asked, his voice dripping in accusation. You could hear the smile on his face and shrank down further in your seat.
“Nothing. Forget I said anything.” You waved your hands in dismissal and looked back down at your book.
“Did I hear that correctly?” He continued, getting even closer than he was before. He hugged the back of the chair and leaned his chin on it.
“No, you didn’t.” You said bluntly. He did. He definitely did.
“Oh I think I did, love.” Tom laughed wickedly. “I’m nearly positive.”
“Best friend.” You stammered. “I said best friend.”
“Nope. Don’t even try.” Tom put a finger in your face, tilting your chin to look at him. You pleaded with your eyes, silently begging him to let it go. Tom, being Tom, gave you a grin that told you he would never let it go.
“You called me your boyfriend.” Tom said in a sing song voice. You groaned and he softened his eyes. “You called me your boyfriend.” He said again, like he finally grasped what you said. He looked at you inquisitively.
“Did you mean to?” He asked in a serious tone, taking you by surprise.
“Obviously I didn’t mean to.” You finally looked at him in the eyes. His playful eyes were soft now, and genuine.
“No, but, did you want to?” Tom continued. You searched his face for signs of him joking, but he wasn’t.
“What?” You asked him.
“Do you want to? That’s what I’m trying to ask. That’s what I’ve been trying to ask you for years. Is that, do you, would you, I mean…” Tom sighed when he couldn’t get the words out. You looked at him curiously. “Do you want me to be? Your boyfriend, I mean.”
“We’re best friends.” You said simply. You couldn’t read Toms emotions and didn’t want to jump the gun. Obviously you wanted him to be your boyfriend, but he didn’t need to know that. Not yet.
“Are we, though?” Tom cocked his head, making you blush. “I know that’s what we tell people, and even get annoyed at how many times we have to do so, but do you ever think maybe there’s a reason people always ask if we’re together?”
“Because we’re close? I don’t know, Tom.” You whined in frustration. “Can we just pretend this didn’t happen?”
“I can’t pretend.” Tom said, almost sadly. “Not anymore, Y/n.”
“What do you mean?” You questioned. You and Tom were in a rut. Neither of you brave enough to take the next step. You gulped as you waited for Toms answer.
“I mean that so many people ask me if you’re my girlfriend, or if I like you, or if you like me that I’m starting to have to ask myself. Even I don’t know the answers anymore. Is she my girlfriend? Do I like her?” Tom laughed at himself and then looked down at his hands. “Does, does she like me?” He asked quietly.
“I didn’t know you thought that way.” You said softly, avoiding his gaze.
“I do.” Tom confirmed, reaching out and rubbing your forearm with his thumb. He left a trail of goosebumps in his wake. “And now, now I’m wondering if you think the same. Like, why do you think you called my your boyfriend?”
“I don’t know.” You lied, keeping your voice low. Toms eyes bore into you like fire, making you squirm.
“I think you do.” Tom pressed.
“Well I don’t.” You snapped, meeting his gage with assertive eyes.
“Really?” He squinted.
“Really.” You stated.
“Alright.” Tom shrugged and backed away. Your arm felt cold where his hand used to be. “Then I’ll drop it.”
“Thank you.” You said as you rubbed your arm.
You went back to silence before Tom let out a sigh. You glanced at him, then went back to your book. Tom let out another sigh, louder this time. Then another. By the forth, you’d gotten the message.
“Okay fine! I didn’t mean to call you my boyfriend, but literally everyone else does, so I guess I did too. I just got mixed up. It’s confusing, okay? We spend all this time together and it’s starting to make me question my feelings. And then that thing with your friends today…” you laughed half heartedly at the situation you’d found yourself in. “I thought I knew how I felt about you, but now I’m thinking maybe I don’t. I don’t hate it when people call me your girlfriend. And I didn’t hate calling you my boyfriend.”
“I didn’t hate it either.” Tom moved closer again, and you did too.
“Right?” You finally found him on the same page. “It’s just, we act like a couple, we look like a couple, we fight like a couple, everyone thinks we’re a couple. And I can’t help but feel like maybe, I don’t know…”
“We should be a couple?” Tom finished your sentence. His puppy dog eyes cut into you like a knife, and you found yourself nodding slowly. A small smile crept across his face. You covered your face with your hands and shrank down in your seat.
“Y/n, you don’t have to be embarrassed.” Tom chuckled as he pulled your hands away from your face. “Do you know how many times I’ve accidentally called you my girlfriend? Not only that, I’ve never once corrected someone when they referred to you as my girlfriend. I get mixed up too, okay?”
You stayed quiet and picked at your nail polish, leaving flakes of it in the dust of your friendship with Tom.
“Please say something.” He asked. You sighed and looked him apologetically in the eyes.
“I’m not good at saying something.” You said softly.
“Okay, how about this; if we were a movie, how would this end?” Tom proposed.
“What?” You said with a tiny smile.
“I’m an actor, yeah?” Tom began. “And you love those bullshit-“
“-Beautiful.” You cut in.
“Sorry, beautiful romantic comedies.” Tom said sarcastically. “So I ask again; if we were a movie, how would this conversation end?”
You thought about it for a moment, and then smirked.
“If we were a movie” You began with a shy smile, “You’d be the right guy and I'd be the best friend that you'd fall in love with. In the end, we’d be laughing, watching the sunset. Then fade to black, show the names, and play the happy song.” You recited.
“That was beautiful.” Tom said, very impressed and a little bashful. “Did you just think of it?”
“A wise poet once said it.” You told him.
“Shakespeare?” He asked.
“Hannah Montana.” You informed him. Tom smiled and let out a laugh
“So that’s how this would go if we were a movie.” He said. You nodded and went back to feeling shy.
“But we’re not a movie.” You pointed out.
“So what are we?” Tom threw the ball back into your court. You looked at Tom and smiled. You knew what you were.
Later, you and Tom walked onto set, hand in hand.
“Hey guys”, Tom announced your presence to his co-stars, “remember before when I said we weren’t dating?”
“Yeah, why?” Jacob asked before his eyes landed on your intertwined. He and Jake shared a look.
Tom didn’t say anything, he just dipped you in the most dramatic way possible and kissed you on the lips.
“Okay, okay. We get it. You’ve always been in love but couldn’t admit it. Big whoop.” Jake sighed loudly and rolled his eyes.
So yeah, you get it a lot.
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#tom holland x reader#tom holland x y/n#tom holland x you#tom holland fanfiction#tom holland jealous#tom holland insert#tom holland fluff#tom holland x best friend!reader#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker imagine#peter parker x reader#peter parker x y/n#peter parker x you#spider man: homecoming#spiderman x reader#iron man#zendaya#jacob balaton#jake gyllenhaal#spiderman: far from home
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The Mission // Spencer Reid x Reader
Sooooo this was SUPPOSE to be a blurb for @andiebeaword BUT it ended up being much longer than that, my bad.
Summary - Spencer and Reader must act like a married couple at a party in order to get information on a hitman. They may do more than needed to prove being a married couple.
Word count - 2.7k
Prompts - "If we die, I'm going to kill you." ~~~ "You have a dirty mind." ~~~ "These heels are peeling off my **skin**. But yes, keep complaining about your tag you whine ass." ~~~ "Wow, I can't imagine being that rich! How old are his kids, maybe I can date one."
It was a well-known fact that I loved partnering with Spencer. We could always joke around and make eachother feel better, even when working the bad cases. But I feel like this was a little ridiculous.
"Are you shitting me?" The words slipped from my mouth so easily, which I immediatly regretted. Spencer gave me *the look* and elbowed my side.
"I'm sorry Y/n, you and Spencer are the two people who are the most compatible to seem like a couple, and we need hard proof before we arrest him." Hotch explained with his usual amount of enthusiasm.
None.
"Hotch, this guy is dangerous and we will be in there without vests, is what I believe y/n is trying to say." Spencer leaned back in his seat, flipping through the mans file.
"We will have sharp-shooters pointing through every window at him in case anything gets out of hand. This is non negotiable." And with that, he left.
"Well, clearly we have no choice." I stood from my seat, flattening my skirt. "I'm gonna go home and get an outfit ready. You aren't wearing that to the party either." I pointed to his outfit.
"What's wrong with my outfit?!" He scoffed, hugging his sweater vest.
"Okay, one, this isn't some dingy hole in the wall. And two, even if it was, you don't go to a nice party looking like someone who has 3 PhD's in the first place." The smirk on my lips grew wider as he feigned offense.
"Fine, I'll find something nicer to wear. I'll pick you up at 7 and tell the team to meet us there." I agreed and left the conference room a little grumpy, quickly making a bee line to the elevator before anyone could comment on my mood.
-
I stared at the 3 dresses in front of me. They were all the same style, but different colors.
White, yellow, and olive green.
I wasn't sure why I was having so much trouble picking a *color*. I always say that I dress for myself, which is what I was trying to do right now.
Right?
I totally wasn't thinking back to that conversation I had with Spencer a few weeks ago.
-
*"Y/n!" Emily looked at me with surprise. "You look so beautiful in white! Why don't you wear it more?" She was right, I never wore it. Me and Penelope were pretty known for wearing many colors, mine just had to be paired with a black skirt.*
*"I'm so clumsy." I laughed. "I live in constant fear that I'll spill coffee on it. Hence why I'm not holding a cup of joe."*
*"I agree with Emily, you look nice in white." Spencer chimed in. "You know the psychological meaning of white is purity, innocence, wholeness and completion. In color psychology, white is the color of new beginnings, of wiping the slate clean, so to speak." He then took a sip of his coffee.*
*"Yeah well I don't know about the innocent part." I giggled, looking to Emily who gave me a shrug and nod. Spencer choked a bit on his coffee. "You alright there Spence?" He saluted me and headed to his desk, which put me and Emily into a fit of giggles.*
-
I reluctantly grabbed the white one, silently hoping that I was less of a klutz tonight.
The satin dress slipped on me easily. It came down to about 2 or so inches above my knees and had thin straps. I paired it with some semi-transparent heels and called it a day. I put on a little heavier makeup to look the part. Foundation, winged eyeliner, blush, highlight, and mascara. Lastly, I tied my hair up in a simple straightened pony-tail.
By the time my indecisive ass was done choosing everything, it was nearly 7 and I knew that Spence would be early. My heels clicked as I walked on my wood floors, heading to the front door. Getting there just in time to hear a knock. I must have startled him by opening it so fast because he stumbled back a bit. He wore a nice white button up and tighter pants than usual, paired with nice black oxfords.
And then he just stood there.
I waved my hand in front of his face.
"Hi!" He shook his head a bit. "Hello there, back to Earth I see. Do you wanna come in and have a glass of water before this whole event, since you are," I leaned back into my doorway to look at the time. "12 minutes early?"
"Oh, yeah sure." I cleared the way so he could walk in. I shook the heels from my feet, taking me down at least three inches before stepping into the kitchen. I grabbed two glasses.
"Do you want ice?" I turned to him, he was sitting at my island. He just shook his head. "Okay." I laughed, putting ice in mine and just filling his with water. The glass clinked as it hit the island in front of him. "You're pretty quiet, are you okay?" The tips of his ears reddened.
"Yeah! I'm just a little nervous, you?" He swiftly brought the water to his lips, guzzling it down like he hadn't drank anything in days. He then stood up.
"Of course I'm nervous." I came around to his side of the counter and swooned into his arms. "But I'll have a great protector there." He smiled down at me with a shake of his head, standing me back up.
Now it's time to head out.
-
We pulled up to the location in Spencer's Volvo, which was incredibly nice to ride in. ~~and I would love to get use to riding in it~~.
"Okay, I have one thing to fix with your outfit." I turned to him before we exited the car. His eyes narrowed at this comment. I leaned forward and unbuttoned two buttons. "Now you look like your going to a party."
"Thank you expert. Stay in the car, I'm going to open your door, the bouncer works with him and we have to go all out on this act." He nodded his head at the bouncer a few yards away.
I wish this wasn't an act.
He opened the door, offering his hand. I took it with a gracious smile, interlacing our fingers. We walked up to the bouncer, who had an ipad with the guest list in hand. Penelope had hacked into their list and added our names, well fake names.
"Mr and Mrs. Adler." Spencer spoke as I leaned into his side. The man scrolled through the list, he tapped our names and opened the door.
It opened to a large room, filled with dozens of people. I leaned up on my tippy toes and whispered into Spencer's ear.
"If we die, I'm going to kill you." I pulled away with a smile, patting his shoulder. His Adam's apple bobbed while he gulped. "So, what's this guys networth, I mean he seems pretty damn rich to throw a party like this." He looked down at me quizzically. "I know you know what it is, I'm sure you have researched him extensively. So what is it?"
"6.2 million dollars." He recited, looking towards the crowd, scanning for the man in question.
"Wow, I can't imagine being that rich! How old are his kids, maybe I can date one."
"Be careful what you say, someone might think we are suspicious." He pulled me into his side, kissing the top of my head.
This night is going to be agonizing. "There he is." We made our way to him slowly, stopping at small drink stations. Just as we were about to get to some seats near him, a server came up to us.
"Hello! Welcome. Would you guys like anything?" She handed Spencer a very small menu. I could see the slight confusion in his eyes. It was truly a weird thing to do at such a big party.
*Salad*
*Potato Soup*
*Fruit Bowl*
*Veggie Bowl*
"I'll have a salad, and the lady will have a fruit bowl." He pointed to the seats we were on our way to. "We will be over there. Thank you." He put his hand on the small of my back, leading us to the seats.
"How did you know I wanted a fruit bowl?"
"You bring some kind of fruit cup to work every day, I'm observant." Right as we were about to sit down, another couple took the seats, not even noticing that we were heading there.
"Well damn. I say we stand next to his table until our food gets here, then we go to the other corner of the room and observe, then we catch him making the deal." I led him to the space by the table. After just a few minutes of waiting, the young lady who took our orders he returned, holding a small bowl of salad and a fruit bowl.
"Have a good night!" She chimed, how can someone be so happy with so many people around?
We ventured to the other side of the room, I grabbed two glasses of champagne from another server on the way. I peered at Spencer over the skinny glass, he was staring at his salad.
"What, is there something wrong?"
"Why is there so much white stuff on it? It's not ranch, I know what ranch looks like." My giggle was muffled slightly by the glass.
"That's what she said." He raised one eyebrow. Then a look of realization came over his face.
"You have a dirty mind." He mixed together the salad to distribute the 'white stuff'. We subtly stared every once in a while over at the mans table.
His name was Anton Todd, but his customers called him Ton. He was someone who frequently assassinated people. He was a hitman to be exact. We had an outside source tell us that a new customer would be coming in to request business, so we could kill two birds with one stone.
So far the man we knew as Cole Kamargo had not come to ask for Antons *services* yet. We had been standing in this corner of the room for a while, just watching him. That's when I caught his eye.
His gaze was terrifying, it struck me right through my soul, and I just couldn't stop looking. He squinted at me, tilting his head. Spencer shook my shoulder.
"Y/n, stop staring at him." It was like being lost in someone's eyes in the worst way possible. I watched as he stood from the table, making his way over with a sour look on his face.
"Shit shit shit shit." I mumbled as he got closer.
"Shit is right. Do you trust me?" I kept my eyes on the man.
"Of course." He grabbed my hips, pushing me against the wall behind us and kissed me hard. He trailed his left hand up to the back of my neck, holding me there. I gasped in surprise, leading him to slip his tongue in my mouth. Meaning we were full on making out. I pushed my hands into his hair, gladly accepting the kiss and sighing into it. Suddenly, Spencer was pulled from me. And there he stood.
Anton.
"Tell your girl to stop fuckin' staring at me." He spat, glaring at me.
"Sorry sir, my wife has ADHD, she zones out frequently." He rushed to my side and pulled me into his side protectively. Anton rolled his eyes and left the area.
I looked up at Spencer, his cheeks were a deep shade of red, and he was touching his lips.
"Thank you. Also, you're a good kisser." I remarked, nudging his side a bit. He looked down at me with wide eyes. "What? Am I not allowed to compliment your kissing? It's good!" I laughed heartily, looping my arm into his.
"Ditto." A smile grew on his lips. I could get use to this. Spencer noticed an available seat near us, so he sat patting his lap.
"Excuse me?"
"Come sit on my lap!" He chuckled.
"I'm glad your getting use to the idea of me being your *wife*." I sat on his lap, leaning my head back onto his shoulder. My hands made their way to the heel of my foot, slightly slipping my shoe off. "These heels are from Satan I think." I rubbed at the sore skin.
"My tag is itchy." Spencer pulled at his collar, relieving the so called *itch*.
"These heels are peeling off my **skin**. But yes, keep complaining about your tag you whine ass." He turned his head to me, kissing my cheek.
"I'm sorry, I can put some neosporin on it when we get home. I mean, when we get-get you home." He stuttered, the tips of his ears once again turning an extravagant shade of red. I kissed his jaw.
"Thank you *baby*." We were then interrupted by a woman next to us.
"How long have you guys been married?" The lady leaned over the booth, a ring was clearly shown on her finger.
"8 years." I answered quickly, before Spencer could say a contradicting answer.
"Wow! You guys look so young to be together so long. How do you guys keep it so... so beautiful?" She tilted her head at the question.
"What do you mean?" I asked, reaching my hand into Spencer's hair and playing with it momentarily.
"You seem so in love. You act like teenagers, I don't think I've looked that in love with my husband since we first met." She huffed.
"You just have to find someone who's easy to love." He leaned his head on mine. "I've never had a doubt in my mind that she was the one." The words stuck with me, I felt like they would be embedded in my soul for eternity.
"I think I need to get a divorce." She sunk into the seat, I watched as her husband come back and sat with her, she gave him a weak smile.
"Okay, we need to leave this area before we become homewreckers." I whispered, pulling him to his feet and fleeing into another direction. "We must be amazing actors." I laughed nervously.
"Yeah, actors." He murmered, but before I could comment on it, I saw Cole making his way to Anton.
"Spencer! It's Cole!" I screeched quietly. We discreetly made our way near the table, quickly catching the conversation and relaying it to Hotch.
Cole spoke of the horrible things he wanted done to his wife, it made me sick.
"FBI, get on the ground!" I pulled my gun from the left holster that Spencer had for me. I couldn't exactly *hide* a gun on this white dress. Spencer pulled his gun as well.
"We have you surrounded by sharpshooters aimed and ready to fire, so I suggest that you comply." Morgan came in soon, cuffing the both of them and leading the men to cars.
We now remained outside, sitting on the stairs of the large building.
"I enjoyed being your husband for a night." Spencer laughed, nudging my shoulder.
"And I enjoyed being your wife." I played with the fake ring on my finger. "Okay. Fuck it. Did you mean any of the things you said in there?" The words spat from my mouth quickly.
"Like what?" His voice was shaky.
"Like, that you never had a doubt that I was the one. Or was that part of the act. I would totally understand if it was, you're an amazing actor if it was because it honestly had me believing-" He put his finger to my lips.
"Yes, I meant it."
"Thank God." I grabbed his jaw with both hands and brought him to my lips. He smiled into the kiss, deepening it. His hands ran up and down my back slowly.
"I wouldn't mind doing this every day." He remarked, gesturing between our lips.
"I wouldn't either pretty boy."
#mgg#criminal minds#spencer reid#dr spencer reid#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid fanfiction#mgg fic#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid one shot#criminal minds fic
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[Sentence Starters] Chop Chop Fruit salad Mystery Jam DokiDoki Dating Sim Thingy
So I played a fruit dating sim made in the golden age of Tumblr. Feel free to add context, change pronouns, names, jobs, and anything else you need to change to make these work for you! Have fun! ^-^ (pls don’t take this too seriously fdkslfjasf)
Content Warning for: strong language & suggestive situations
❝ I'm not fond of mornings. ❞
❝ Bwahaha hahahahhaha! ❞
❝ Did you read about that incident? ❞
❝ I'm scared as hell. ❞
❝ What is WITH you? Give me a 'YO', give me a 'hah'!, give me a 'wassup'! ❞
❝ It's not like I l-like you or anything, you fucking baka. ❞
❝ You suck. Sleep at night you fucking bakamono. ❞
❝ Youcouldleanagainstmeyouknow. ❞
❝ I need to stop thinking of weird things. ❞
❝ That's gonna become a bruise... Shit. ❞
❝ Uwaaa... That huuuurt. ❞
❝ Are you hurt? Do I need to call an ambulance? ❞
❝ Do you like being choked sexually? ❞
❝ Wanna play some basketball? ❞
❝ I will avenge them. ❞
❝ Do not worry, (fair fruit). I will protect you. ❞
❝ Tomato, more like ToMOEto. ❞
❝ My moves are sexy. I'm very humble too. ❞
❝ Tehee... I'll chop you up finely now. ❞
❝ HIAAAAAAAH! ❞
❝ So... You wanna come over to my place? ❞
❝ It's not like I wanna see (Tomato) in the shower or anything. Totally not. ❞
❝ I... I... I suki you. ❞
❝ Let's make love all night, I'll buy roses to spread on the bed for a romantic feeling! ❞
❝ Well, here I am anyway, whether you like it or not. ❞
❝ You tsun piece of shit. ❞
❝ I wonder what the fruity juicy fuck is wrong with me. ❞
❝ Why won't you notice me? ❞
❝ I'm your friend... (Apple)... remember? ❞
❝ The fuck, man? I did not sign up for this! ❞
❝ Are you going to kill me? Just go ahead and kill me. ❞
❝ There is something I need to tell you. ❞
❝ I... I... Iloveyou. ❞
❝ Let's fuck. ❞
❝ Let's have a very emotional bonding on the bed tonight, baby. ❞
❝ I grow roses under my bed. ❞
❝ God damn fruit juice. ❞
❝ Behold... CORN! ❞
❝ You look like a ghost or something. ❞
❝ Thou art kind of hot. Wanna come over to my place? I got a leather couch. ❞
❝ I totally do not like you, man. ❞
❝ Apparently no one likes me today... ❞
❝ I have no idea what the fuck is going on, but I comply. ❞
❝ Daaaamn, that booty is fine. ❞
#sentence starters#sentence starter#rp meme#rp memes#Chop Chop Fruit salad Mystery Jam DokiDoki Dating Sim Thingy
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Ladies
Suptober Day 13: Ladies
Dean was standing in front of his floor length mirror, a shirt held in each hand. He kept bringing each shirt in front of him and stared at himself, trying to figure out which shirt he should wear for his date tonight.
“You should wear the green one, it brings out your eyes,” Sam said from behind him.
Dean dropped the gray shirt to the ground in surprise. He scooped it off the floor before turning around to look at his brother with a glare. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”
Sam pushed away from the doorway and walked further into the room. “Sorry. Are you actually nervous about this date?”
Dean huffed and threw the gray shirt on the bed. “Well, yeah! You said you had the perfect date for me!”
Sam grinned. “Oh, I do! Not to mention, it will be a double date with my friend, Cas. He’s totally chill, a little dorky but a really nice guy. I really think both of you are gonna like what I planned for you guys.”
“I’m just looking forward to meeting Charlie,” Dean said, grabbing his jeans off the bed and walking into the bathroom. He walked out a few minutes later, dressed in a pair of black washed out jeans and a green long sleeved dress shirt. He ran his hands through his hair, spiking it a little bit before spraying a few puffs of cologne. He slipped into his loafers and then looked at Sam expectantly.
His little brother nodded. “Looking good! Charlie is gonna love you!”
Dean grinned jauntily. “That’s what I’m hoping for. So, I’m meeting Charlie, Cas, and Morgan all at Luigi’s, correct?”
“Yep and you better get going or you’re gonna be late,” Sam said.
Dean grabbed his car keys and wallet off his bedside table. “Alright, I’m going! You’re the best little brother ever!”
Dean hurried to his car, Sam’s voice echoing behind him. “Good luck and have fun!”
Dean smiled when his beloved Impala came into sight. He rubbed his hand along her side lovingly as he slipped inside. He turned the key and the engine roared to life. He pulled out the garage and headed to Luigi’s, the best Italian restaurant in town.
As he drove, Dean thought about his date. He had never told Sam that he was gay, but somehow his little brother had figured it out. He wasn’t scared to tell Sam, he knew his brother wouldn’t care, the timing had just never been right. When Sam had told him about the double date, he had been nervous at first. According to Sam, Charlie had short red hair, green eyes, was a book nerd, and was going to school to become a computer engineer. Charlie didn’t sound like Dean’s idea kind of date but decided to give the guy a chance at Sam’s insisting.
He pulled into the restaurant parking lot fifteen minutes later and headed to the entrance. Sam had described Cas and Morgan as well, so he had an idea of the people he was looking for. He spotted a group of three sitting on benches and headed towards them. There was a guy that fit Cas’ description to a T: raven black hair, ocean blue eyes, strong chin with stubble, trim waist, thick thighs, and wearing a trench coat. He was honestly the most gorgeous guy Dean had ever seen and he felt his cock jerk in his jeans.
As he got closer, his smile fell. The two people next to Cas were not what Dean was expecting. There weren’t two guys sitting next to Cas, one with red hair and green eyes and the other with dark blonde hair and brown eyes. Instead, two ladies were sitting next to Cas who matched the descriptions Sam had given Dean.
Three heads snapped up at Dean’s approaching footsteps. He forced a smile back on his face as he stepped in front of them. The redhead stood up and held her hand out. “I’m Charlie! Nice to meet you; Sam has told me a lot about you.”
Dean shook her hand and said, “I’m Dean, nice to meet you too. Sam has told me quite a bit about you.” Dean whispered under his breath, “Although, he left out a few major details.”
“What was that?” Charlie asked.
“Nothing.” Dean turned to the other two people. “You must be Cas and Morgan.”
“Hi Dean,” Morgan said with a small wave of her hand.
Cas got to his feet and held his hand out. “Hello Dean.”
Dean shivered at Cas’ deep voice. It had a low timbre to it that stroked over Dean’s nerves, causing goosebumps to spread across his skin. He desperately wished that Cas was his date rather than Charlie. He shook Cas’ hand and nearly whimpered at how warm the other man’s skin was. “Hi Cas, it’s really nice to meet you! Sam is always talking about his dorky best friend who is going into zoology.”
Cas gave a short laugh. “Yes, well, that is a very accurate description. I’m not the best in social situations, and I have a habit of going on long tangents about bees and their impact on the environment.”
Dean smiled warmly. “He may have mentioned that once or twice.”
“Hello, are we gonna go inside or just stand out here all night?” Morgan asked.
Cas and Dean broke apart. “Yeah, let’s get this party started,” Dean replied. He held the door open and let the three of them inside before following.
He told the hostess there was a reservation for four under Winchester. “Yes sir, it’s right here. If you’ll please follow me.”
They followed her to a booth where she set the menus down, told them their waiter would be with them soon, and walked away. Cas and Dean slid in first on opposite sides even though Dean wanted nothing more than to be pressed up against the other man’s lithe frame. Charlie slid in next to Dean and Morgan sat next to Cas.
Their waiter appeared, took their drink orders, and then went to go get their drinks.
“So, what’s everybody getting?” Dean asked.
Morgan set the menu down and replied, “I’m getting what I always get. Caprese salad and eggplant lasagna. I’m vegetarian.”
Dean barely kept the frown off his face. Thank God, Sam hadn’t set him up with Morgan. There was no way a meat man such as himself could date a vegetarian. “I hope you don’t mind me ordering the meat lover’s lasagna then,” he said.
Morgan shook her head. “Everybody has their preferences. Meat is not mine.”
“Well, I’m with Dean. Their meat lover’s lasagna is the best item on the menu along with their Tiramisu Icebox Pie,” Cas said with a grin.
“Cas, you’re a man after my own heart. Meat and pie are the two main staples of my diet,” Dean exclaimed. “I don’t normally go to fancy places like this. I would prefer a beer, a burger, and a slice of pie over this any day.”
Cas nodded. “So would I. I tried to get Sam to let us meet at the Roadhouse, but he said it wasn’t fancy enough for a double date.”
“He better not let Ellen hear him say that,” Dean replied.
“You know Ellen?”
“Yep. She’s married to our Uncle Bobby. We practically grew up at the Roadhouse. Her barbeque bacon burger was my idea. It’s become one of her best sellers,” Dean said proudly.
“No way, that’s one of my favorites! Her apple pie is the best thing I've ever put in my mouth,” Cas said with a dreamlike sigh.
“Does anybody care what I’m having for dinner,” Charlie cut in.
Dean finally looked away from Cas. “Oh, yeah sure. What are you having?”
Charlie made a “humph” sound before saying, “I’m gonna do the spaghetti. I’m not a vegetarian like Morgan but I do try and limit my meat intake.”
Dean tried to cover his groan by taking a sip of his coke that the waiter had brought a few minutes ago. He was going to strangle his little brother. Even if Dean was into chicks, Charlie would not be it for him.
“That’s cool. The spaghetti is really good,” Dean said.
The waiter returned, took their orders, and left them alone once more.
“So, do any of you guys already know each other?” Dean asked.
Cas shook his head. “No, I don’t. I don’t have many friends in general. Like I said, social interaction isn’t my thing.”
“How did Sam convince you to go on a double date then?” Dean inquired.
Cas glanced at Morgan from the side of his eye before looking back at Dean. “He told me he had picked out a date for me who might be my perfect match.” From the way he spoke, Cas was thinking the same thing about Sam that Dean was.
“Yeah, he told me the same thing. Fancy dates like this aren’t really my thing. I’d prefer to go to the movies or a walk on the beach or in the park. But he begged me until I finally agreed,” Dean explained.
Cas grinned. “That sounds much better to me as well. Obviously, I enjoy going to the zoo or an aquarium or even a museum. Somewhere I can be more relaxed. Fancy places like this have such high expectations from its patrons.”
“I totally agree. I’ve only worn this shirt like twice. My normal getup is jeans, boots, a t-shirt, and a plaid overshirt. I’m glad being a mechanic lets me dress like that. I couldn’t imagine having a job where I had to dress up every single day,” Dean replied with a large smile.
“While zookeeping requires a uniform, it’s all khakis which is quite comfortable. I agree that wearing a suit and tie all day would be annoying.” Cas looked down at the blue suit, white dress shirt, and blue tie he was wearing. “I only own this one suit and it usually hangs in the back of my closet. I’d rather be in my trench coat, jeans, t-shirts, and Converse.”
“If the two of you hate going to fancy places and dressing up so much, then maybe you shouldn’t have come in the first place,” Morgan snapped. She herself was dressed in a knee length light pink chiffon dress.
“I’m not super fond of dressing up either,” Charlie piped up. She was wearing a purple blouse and gray dress pants. “I’m with the guys on the jeans and t-shirts.”
Morgan rolled her eyes. “You’re all a bunch of uncultured swine.”
“Cupcake, be nice. Not everybody likes to dress up like you do. Leave the guys alone,” Charlie chided.
“You two know each other?” Castiel asked.
“We would have told you, but you two started talking to one another again,” Charlie said a little crossly. “Morgan and I have known each other for years. We went to high school together. I call her cupcake because that’s her favorite dessert.”
Cas nodded. “Ah. So, how did you two meet Sam?”
“Same as you I’m sure. We had a gen ed class together. I met him when we took Intro to Philosophy together. Morgan met him in Human Sexuality,” Charlie explained.
The waiter reappeared with their food. He passed it all out, refilled their drinks, and left them to their meal.
“Dean, you said you were a mechanic. What is that like? I’ve always admired a man who works with their hands,” Cas said with a sly smirk.
Dean blushed at the obvious flirtation. “It’s great Cas! I got hooked when I had to rebuild my Chevy Impala that my dad wrapped around a tree. I got my license and have been working for my uncle for years now. Once he retires, he’s leaving the business to me. Working on cars is like a giant brain game. You have to figure out what pieces aren’t working and then replace them. Sometimes, the problems are obvious and other times, it’ll take me hours before I figure out what’s wrong. Getting to be outside and blast my rock music while I work is a plus.”
“Oh, I love rock music. My favorite band has to be Queen but my favorite song ever is Stairway to Heaven,” Cas said before taking a bite of his lasagna.
“Dude, Queen and Zep are awesome! ACDC is probably my favorite but Simple Man and Hey Jude are my favorite songs. My mom used to sing Hey Jude to me every night before bed,” Dean said with a fond smile.
“That’s very sweet Dean. Sam has never really talked about your parents much,” Cas said.
Dean dropped his gaze. “That’s because they’re both dead. Mom died in a freak house fire and dad died when he totaled the Impala. My mom I miss a lot, but my dad became a mean ole drunk so I don’t miss him as much. I know that’s bad to say, but it’s the truth.”
Cas reached over and rested his hand atop Dean’s. “I’m so sorry Dean. My parents aren’t dead, but we haven’t spoken in many years. They didn’t approve of me being… of my sexuality. If it wasn’t for my brother, I’m not sure where I’d be.”
Dean turned his hand so their palms slid against each other. “That’s awful Cas. I’m sure my old man wouldn’t have approved of… my sexuality either. Sam was what kept me going all these years.”
“I’m gonna head to the bathroom,” Morgan announced after finishing the last of her dinner.
“I’ll go with you,” Charlie nearly shouted.
Dean and Cas barely paid them any attention. Their hands were still touching and their eyes were locked with one another. They wore matching smiles as they stared softly at each other.
“Uh Cas, I need to tell you something,” Dean said.
“Go ahead,” the other man encouraged.
“When I said my dad wouldn’t approve of my sexuality, I’m sure you assumed I was bisexual or something else since Sam set me up with Charlie. The truth is, though, I’m not really into the ladies. I’m gay. I’ve never told Sam, not because I was scared but because there was never the right time. When he talked about setting me up with the perfect date, I thought he had figured it out. I can’t tell you how disappointed I was when I saw Charlie was a girl,” Dean explained.
Cas smiled brightly and brought his other hand up to rest on Dean’s. “I wasn’t happy when I saw Morgan. When Sam said Morgan, I assumed it was a guy. Now that I think about it, he never actually used pronouns to indicate her gender either way. I guess he doesn’t know me very well either since I’m also not into the ladies. I’m gay as well. I’ll be honest, the only person I’ve had eyes for all night is you.” Cas dropped his gaze as a blush spread across his cheeks. He whispered, “I may have had to talk my dick down like half a dozen times already.”
Dean squeezed Cas’ hand. “Dude, the moment I saw you in the parking lot, I felt my dick perking up. I’ve thought about Sam in a bikini more times than I’d care to admit tonight.”
Cas chuckled. “Would you be terribly upset if we told the ladies the truth and then got out of here? Maybe we could go for a walk along the boardwalk?”
“I’d love that, Cas,” Dean replied, his eyes sparkling merrily.
Just then, Charlie and Morgan showed back up. Dean did a double take when he noticed they were holding hands. Charlie looked at them with a grin. “Look boys, Morgan and I talked, and we decided we need to tell you the truth. We aren’t straight or even bi. We’re lesbian and together, for years now.”
Morgan nodded. “Yeah, this whole thing was Sam’s idea. He assumed the two of you were gay and thought you guys would make a great couple. We told him to just set the two of you up directly, but he thought this whole double date idea would be better just in case he was wrong about you being gay. Especially since neither of you ever told him to his face.”
“If he knew, he could have said something,” Dean snapped.
“So could you,” Charlie retorted.
“Whatever,” Dean grumbled. “Uh, we’re sorry if you didn’t have a good time tonight.”
Morgan waved her hand at him. “Psh, it was entertaining as hell watching the two of you. You’ve had heart eyes for each other the moment you saw one another. You’re like two cute puppies.”
Charlie nodded. “I totally agree! You guys make an adorable couple. Anyways, Sam gave us the money to pay for dinner. We’re gonna get on out of here and let you two enjoy the rest of your night together. Maybe we can all hang out at Dean and Sam’s place sometime.”
Charlie dropped more than enough money to pay for dinner on the table as Cas and Dean stood to their feet. They all walked out the restaurant and exchanged hugs before the ladies headed off to a bright yellow Volkswagen Bug.
Once they were gone, Dean turned to Cas. “I guess Sam was right.”
Cas tilted his head. “How so?”
“Well, he told both of us that he was setting us up with the perfect date. I gotta tell you Cas, you’re my every wet dream come to life,” Dean said as he reached for the other man’s hand.
Cas wrapped his fingers up with Dean’s. “I definitely have a thing for green eyes and freckles. I will enjoy being able to kiss every single one of them someday.”
“That’ll take you quite a while. I have them everywhere and I mean everywhere,” Dean replied with a smirk.
Cas stepped into Dean’s personal space. “I look forward to kissing every single one.”
“Well, I know one you can kiss right now,” Dean said cheekily.
Cas raised a single eyebrow. “That so?”
“Yep, I’ve got one right in the middle of my top lip. You wouldn’t be able to see it in this light, but I promise you it’s there.” Dean looked at Cas with a bright smile on his face.
“Hmm, well then, I guess I better get started,” Cas said before closing the distance between them and sealing his mouth over Dean’s.
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Could I request an Ateez reaction in which the members find out that one of the other members has a crush on their s/o (the other member possibly doesn't know their dating) please and thank you!
Ask and you shall receive!
I made this one so that you have been friends with the guys for a while anyway, so that’s why no one is suspicious of you dating.
Hongjoong:
One day you’re just chillin in the dorms right
It’s about to be movie night!!!
The best night when you have literally the funniest people with you
Once everyone figures out what snacks they need and actually sits down
you plop next to Joongie for some secretive snuggles
But as soon as you sit down, Wooyoung starts yelling about how he wanted to cuddle with you during the movie
Everyone teases him because even you know he has a crush on you (he’s not shy and he has a big mouth so you found out pretty quick)
Since nobody knows that you and Hongjoong are together, you force yourself to go over to Wooyoung instead
It’s almost impossible to ignore your boyfriend’s pout though
He’s staring at you from across the room with the saddest look on his face for like 20 minutes of the movie
you can’t even concentrate, you just wanna go back over there so bad
but you don’t want to expose your relationship just yet
Hongjoong will just have to suck it up for tonight
He does not suck it up, however
after another 15 minutes, he stand up really abruptly and marches over to you and Wooyoung
everybody is watching because no one knows what he’s doing all of a sudden
grabs your hand and pulls you back to his seat
cue more complaining from Wooyoung
“Well we’re together, I'm allowed”
everyone just kind of goes into stunned silence
eventually.... “YOU’RE WHAT”
bunch of yelling from everyone while Joong just yanks a blanket up over the both of your heads
you peck him on the lips and eventually the yelling stops and you can come out to finish the movie
Seonghwa:
possessive mf
but he was the one who didn’t want to tell anyone in the first place
So when Yeosang starts flirting with you, all he can really do is be bitter about it
He watches as you laugh along, obviously not getting that one of your boyfriend’s best friends is coming onto you
You and Yeosang had been talking together for about an hour, just catching up on life and stuff
Seonghwa is getting fed up, no lie
He knew Yeosang had a crush, but he always thought he would be too shy to ever make a move
But all of a sudden Seonghwa feels threatened
he manages to catch your eye across the room and you smile and wave
he just frowns, making you pout and excuse yourself from Yeosang
you head over to him and ask him what’s wrong
He just pulls you into a kiss, catching you completely by surprise
as your eyes flutter shut, his stay open and on Yeosang who is watching with his mouth hanging open
He mouths “sorry, hyung”
Seonghwa pulls away, nods at the younger, and smiles at you
“what was that all about?? What if people saw??”
“don't care anymore”
you don't really question his sudden change of heart
all you can think about is finally being able to cuddle with him even when the boys are around lmao
Yunho:
(who gave him the right to look so professional here like what)
squishyyyyyyyyyyy
is hanging around the studio one day when he overhears what sounds like your laugh
he’s like “they aren’t even here today wth”
so he goes to find the source and comes across Hongjoong FaceTiming you
he is about to rush over to join and say hi to his love but stops when he hears Hongjoong speak again
sounds like a confession... Yunho’s cheeks get all red and his eyes get a little glossy just because he’s overwhelmed
he sticks around to hear what you say
he knows that you love him but, at the same time, there's a part of him that's really insecure and scared
“Aw, Joongie...that’s sweet and all but...” you’re stalling because you can’t decide if you should tell him the truth
Yunho is literally dying as he waits for your answer
“Joong, I’m with Yunho... we didn’t want people to know but I think this is a pretty good reason to tell you. I’m so sorry”
Yunho lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding
lets a tear fall because he was so so nervous poor thing
he backs out of the room so that he doesn’t hear more
he low-key feels bad about even overhearing that much but at the same time he feels more confident in your relationship
he shoots you a text later telling you how much you mean to him and everything, but he doesn’t bring up Hongjoong
he knows that you will end up telling him anyway but he doesn’t want you to think negatively of him for eavesdropping
just so happy that you chose him
Yeosang:
so Yeosang is really confident about your relationship and loves you a lot
but he's shy about letting other people know
but when he notices that Jongho has been making extra efforts to be near you lately, he doesn’t take it lightly
he wouldn’t be nervous if Jongho knew you were in a relationship
but since he doesn’t, Yeosang is worried that he might try and make a move on you
Jongho had talked to a couple of the other guys about his infatuation with you
but he had suspected that Yeosang also had a crush on you so he had held off
but the other guys told Jongho to go for it, since they didn't know the truth either
So as Yeosang is watching Jongho talking to you one day, he notices that Jongho’s fingers keep “accidentally” grazing yours
He’s getting angrier as he watches
but he isn’t angry at you or Jongho, just angry with himself for being to scared to say anything
eventually, he musters up some courage and saunters over to you and Jongho and takes your hand
right in front of Jongho’s salad
And Jongho is immediately like “crap” and walks away
and you’re super confused because what in the world am I missing what just happened
But Yeosang just kinda giggles and asks you if you wanna go get lunch
San:
now San I think is one to actually get pretty jealous
like if he sees someone trying anything with you, he’s gonna be big mad right away
But it is much more difficult to get mad when it’s Seonghwa who is after you
San is definitely afraid of coming off as disrespectful to his elder if he tries to step in and stop anything
highkey hopes that you’ll say something so that he won't have to
One day Seonghwa actually comes to San
to talk about you
he’s just rambling on and on about how cute he thinks you are, totally oblivious to San’s irritated expression
San is fuming
eventually he’s gonna snap and be like “LOOK BRO WE’RE DATING”
and Seonghwa is like O.O
then San is apologizing like a mad man because he really didn’t mean for it to come out like that
he just legit couldn’t listen to someone else talk about his girlfriend anymore it was infuriating
Seonghwa’s like “...it’s cool, I get why you’d be mad”
then he assures him that he won’t try anything now that he knows about you two
But he also scolds San for not telling him sooner lmao
Gives an apology too just to make his lil bro feel a little better
Mingi:
(MY MF BABYYYYYY)
So, Mingi gets insecure, I bet
When other tall boy, Yunho, also proclaims that you are his ideal type during a revealing round of truth or dare
there is a lot of yelling from the guys, as you are literally playing with them and he just SAID THAT?
But Mingi does not think it’s funny
Suddenly Wooyoung leans over and whispers in his ear
“we are gonna try to get y/n to say she wants dare so she will have to kiss Yunho”
Like it’s sweet that they’re planning to be wingmen for their buddy Yunho but Mingi is so SAD
scoots an inch closer to you and shakes his head at Wooyoung
“why are you pouting, just help us lmao”
he shakes his head again, but Wooyoung has already turned his attention back to the game
finally, your turn comes around and all the guys start making up excuses as to why you should take a dare
“Cmon y/n we just had two truths in a row, pleaseee”
“y/n you gotta pick dare or its not fun”
and you’re laughing and about to give in and ask for a dare when you look to Mingi and he’s making big eyes at you
you cock an eyebrow at him and he leans over to tell you what the guys were planning
your eyes go wide and the other guys are like “MINGI YOU TATTLED DIDNT YOU”
so you turn your head and peck Mingi on the lips in front of everyone
chorus of “oh my god” “woah” and other things
“Sorry, Yunho” but he just shrugs like “it’s cool, Id rather you be with one of us than someone random. even if its not me”
Mingi is smiling again and thats all that matters really and he snuggles you for the rest of the game
Wooyoung:
Wooyoung is pretty well-attuned to things that happen around you
always watching you out of the corner of his eye like a stalker
it’s just cuz he loves you tho
so he notices Mingi hitting on you pretty much immediately
honestly finds it kind of amusing for a little bit
but then little things come up in his memory
fans saying that he was too short for you and that you’d be better with someone else
gets down on himself really fast thinking about that kind of stuff
still watching you and Mingi talking
wants to walk over there and hang all over you until Mingi gets the point
so that is exactly what he does
waddles over and slings his arms around your waist
head on your shoulder
kisses your neck and you squeal because MINGI IS RIGHT THERE I MEAN SERIOUSLY WOOYOUNG
and Mingi kind of laughs it off but he’s a little sad bc he liked you ya know
after Mingi goes away you hit Wooyoung softly on the shoulder and tell him to go talk to Mingi and apologize or something
He agrees but he’s like “you have to give me cuddles afterwards”
who could say no to that? couldn't be me
Jongho:
Okay so you and Jongho are coming back from a group dinner and he sat in the front while you crammed in the backseat with WooSan
halfway through the car ride home, you fall asleep and your head flops onto San’s shoulder
he’s immediately giddy about his crush sleeping on him like his dreams are coming true
Jongho’s like “imma break your dreams like my apples bro”
Woo is giggling because San is being so soft for you and stroking your hair and everything
Jongho just kinda watches in the rearview as San takes pictures and stuff
But Jongho just purses his lips and tries his best not to say anything
the last straw that finally breaks Jongho’s resolve is when he catches San pressing a kiss to the top of your head
“Hyung, please don't kiss them in front of their boyfriend”
San and Wooyoung look at each other like “are you the boyfriend”
they look at the driver “is he the boyfriend?”
and then their two collective brain cells join together and are like “JONGHO IS THE BOYFRIEND”
San is a little sad but his happiness at the maknae finding love is more prevalent
They start squealing and demanding details about your relationship
“when did this start” “why didn't you tell us” “did you tell your parents”
Jongho just smiles to himself as they throw questions at him
then you wake up and slap San on the boob for waking you up and then flick Wooyoung for being noisy too lmao
Jongho smiles at you and when you get back to the dorms, he gives you a smooch right where everyone can see (because he can do that now)
#ateez#ateez fluff#ateez imagines#ateez fanfic#fanfic#fluff#imagines#ateez reactions#ateez scenarios#ateez hongjoong#ateez seonghwa#ateez yunho#ateez yeosang#ateez san#ateez mingi#ateez wooyoung#ateez jongho#atiny
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Read on AO3 or read the fic under the cut.
Sam’s been spending less time in the bunker since curing Dean of being a demon. After unchaining him, he left the dungeon with a look on his face Dean never wants to see again. Dean’s seen Sam cry, he’s seen Sam completely broken and hurt. But he has never seen this look on Sam’s face before. Complete and total hopelessness, terror, and heartbreak. Not even after Jessica burned up on that ceiling did Sam look like that.
And Dean put that look there.
Dean broke Sam so totally and completely beyond repair.
He remembers the things he said, as a demon, because he remembers meaning them. But he doesn’t mean them now and he doesn’t know how to fix this.
Castiel had brought him food from the local diner after he was cured, said Sam placed the order and picked it up but couldn’t bring it to Dean himself. He’d told Cas he just needed time, and Dean will give him that, as much as it hurts having his little brother hide from him.
Sam ordered him a cheeseburger extra onion and double French fries, just like he likes, with two slices of apple pie for dessert. Even sad and scared, Sam will always think about Dean above himself.
He’d asked Cas if Sam got himself a salad like the health nerd he is. Cas just gave him a pitying smile, which told Dean everything he needed to know.
Now, almost a week since he was cured, Dean knows Sam hasn’t been eating enough, and that Sam spends a lot of time at the local bar outside Lebanon. It’s a couple steps down from a dive, but it has its share of rowdy drunks, a pool table for some good hustlin’, and bartenders that aren’t scared to kick you out on your ass. Dean would know.
And Sam has been there at least four nights this week.
It’s the fifth night that he hears the creak of the door open and slam shut that alerts Dean to Sam leaving again. It’s just after nine. Dean weighs his options and decides to follow Sam there but remain hidden; he’s gotten good at hiding since he got the mark of Cain.
He gives him an hour head start before heading over, driving through the lot to locate the car that Sam seems to take whenever he goes off alone, then parks in the back so Sam can’t find Baby and know that Dean came.
The bartender knows him, lets Dean take up a shadowed corner with a couple’a beers and hunker down to watch the show.
Sam seems to be two or three beers in; he’s swaying on his feet, cheeks flushed and hair a mess like he ran his fingers through it several times in frustration.
And he appears to be hustling, except the little shit is drunk and not just faking it to play the guys he’s hustling. If Sam does this every night without backup, Dean is going to kill him.
“C’mon, sweetheart,” one of the guys slurs, leaning too close to Sam for Dean’s liking. Dean never was fond of anyone touching Sam or calling him pet names. That’s Dean’s baby brother and Dean doesn’t play nice when it comes to Sammy. He watches as Sam visibly tenses – knows what’s making his brother uncomfortable – and steps back. “Oh, don’t be like that, pretty, you know you can’t win this, don’t ya? I’m givin’ you an out. Your arm’s broken, ain’t it?”
“No,” Sam replies, bumping the pool table in his haste to put more distance between them, grunting in pain at the contact. “Already told you… I lose an’ you take me for all the money I got, or you lose, and I take you for all the money you got – no more no less. I can beat you, sprained elbow or not.”
Dean smirks with pride. His brother may be drunk but he’s not stupid. Sam can play pool left handed or right handed. They trained themselves over the years how to use both hands in case their dominant hand becomes incapacitated somehow in the middle of a hunt. Always need a contingency plan when your life’s on the line.
“We’ll see about that,” the man growls, leering at Sam, eyes roaming his body up and down. That kind of scrutiny would have Dean wanting to shower and scrub himself raw; he can’t imagine how Sammy feels. “It’s prudes like you that beg for cock when it’s presented to them.”
That has Dean half standing, anticipating. He’s furious that anyone would say that to Sam. It has Dean’s skin crawling and the mark on his arm burning, begging for bloodshed. Dean wants to slit this man’s throat for even thinking of Sam that way. He wants to torture him and make him beg for Sam’s forgiveness.
He wants to bash his face in.
Sam shoves the guy’s shoulder and says, “Just play pool, man,” and Dean sits back down. The game resumes and Dean keeps a watchful eye as Sam fumbles his way through the game, drunk off his ass. Sam accepts drink after drink and Dean knows his little brother isn’t going to win this game with that much alcohol in his system, but he’s waiting until Sam actually needs help to step in.
“You’ve been alone for awhile, sugar. You waitin’ for someone?” a smooth woman’s voice says from his left. He looks up just as she’s sliding into the seat across from him and blocking his view of Sam and the guys he’s hustling. He needs to get her out of here fast.
“I’m just enjoying some time alone,” he replies, not trying to sound rude but wanting her gone.
Her smile is predatory when she asks, “Would you like some company?”
“I’m sorry, darlin’,” he tries to sound remorseful but misses by a mile as he leans slightly to the right to try to get an eye on Sam.
She must notice he’s distracted because she turns her body slightly to the left and cranes her neck to see what Dean is looking at before turning back to him. “That tall glass of water, huh? It’s always the gorgeous ones,” she says wistfully with a shake of her head and winks at him as she gets up from her chair. “If you strike out, I’ll be at the bar, sugar.”
It had to be less than a minute between the time she looked at Sam and then left the table, but by the time Dean’s view cleared, Sam and the guys at the pool table were gone. Dean almost knocked over his chair in his haste to get up and find Sam. It was barely 11, and the past week Sam hadn’t been coming home until well after midnight. Last call was 1:30 but Sam has always been the type to leave well before last call to avoid being “one of those people,” he’d say. His little brother was such a nerd.
Sam���s a grown man. 32 years old and 6’4”, he shouldn’t need Dean’s protection, but that will never stop the big brother side of Dean from protecting his little brother. And now, with this mark burning into his arm, Dean’s more protective than usual. More agitated, angry. He’s itching to make someone hurt, someone bleed, and if tonight it happens to be some guys Sam beat at pool then so be it.
He bypasses the pool table they were hanging at -- the drink Sam had been drinking rests on the edge of the table, condensation leaving a ring on the lacquered wood finish -- and heads for the hall leading to the bathroom. He stops at the sound of voices in the middle of an argument.
“I told you, nothing more nothing less,” Sam’s voice carries down the hallway and Dean waits, wanting to give Sam the benefit of the doubt. He didn’t see how many of the guys followed but even inebriated he knows Sam can hold his own. It’s just the protective part inside him that wants to beat this guy’s face in for thinking he can get something from Sam.
“I might’a let you go if you didn’t hustle me an’ my boys for all we got,” the man replies huskily. There’s a thud and Sam grunts. It sets Dean’s teeth on edge and makes his hand twitch for a blade. He peers around the corner and sees that Sam’s pressed against the wall by the man he was playing when Dean got to the bar, the other two that had been hanging around the pool table watching them play were flanking the two of them. Dean could only make out Sam’s shaggy head of hair. “Now we’re gonna take it out on your ass for all we lost.”
Sam tries to shove at the guy’s shoulders, says, “Just because I can outplay you in pool with my arm in a sling doesn’t mean I cheated. You just lack skill.”
It’s Sam’s smart mouth that Dean both loves and hates. His baby brother can be a huge pain in the ass with his book intelligence, but sometimes he lacks severe street intelligence. He wonders how often this has happened before; he’s going to have to have a talk with Sammy after he saves his ass, literally.
He has half a mind to let these guys fuck with Sam a little bit to teach him a lesson; give himself a better excuse to beat them half to death for touching his brother.
He wants to be Sam’s savior and then punish him accordingly, both for running away from him and for putting himself in deliberate danger.
He’s going to punish Sam regardless.
“Get off’a me!” Sam shouts, trying to shove harder, but he’s outnumbered and while Sam is tall and strong, these guys have more muscle mass on him and they just laugh as Sam struggles against them, his arm in the sling cradled against his chest. He can’t use all his strength because of the damn sling and his hurt elbow.
Being bitten by a vampire while Sam watches crosses his mind and he feels less inclined to jump in just yet, wanting to see how this plays out. Sam had no soul, he reminds himself, but at the same time… Dean feels like he doesn’t have a soul right now, too. Just dark thoughts swirling around in his head about his little brother and pain.
“Aw, come on, pretty boy,” another one of the men taunts, gripping Sam’s chin and turning him to face him. “Don’t be a prude. You look like you’re desperate to get fucked. Just turn around and we’ll make you feel good, baby.”
“No!”
Hearing this sleazeball call Sammy “baby” is enough for Dean. He steps away from hiding just as they’re turning Sam to face the wall, fiddling with Sam’s belt buckle as his little brother squirms in their grip.
“Let him go,” Dean growls.
“Mind ya own business, pal.”
“I said,” Dean speaks slow, as if talking to a child who broke the rules, “Let,” he steps closer, “Him go.”
“Dean,” Sam says, voice quivering both in fear of the men trying to have their way with him and possibly at Dean himself. Sam hasn’t looked Dean in the eye since Dean was cured; he’s been ducking out of the bunker before Dean can emerge from his bedroom, or the bathroom. Dean had been longing to catch Sam in the library again, reading a book, happy and comfortable like he used to be. But as far as he knows, Sam stays in his room, or leaves the bunker altogether to run away from Dean.
That stops now.
“It’s okay, Sammy,” Dean says, “I’m here.”
“Listen, buddy,” the man that Sam beat speaks up again, “Find your own bitch, this one’s ours.”
Despite the burning of the mark, begging for Dean to slit the throats of these men, Dean actually laughs out loud. “You’re right,” he shrugs, a smirk growing on his face as he steps closer. “He is a bitch, but he’s my bitch, and I’m not going to let scumbags like you taint him.” He grabs the hair of the one who had grabbed Sam’s chin and yanks him away roughly. “If you don’t want to die today, let him go.”
“Alright, asshole--” The first guy releases Sam and lunges at Dean, who slams the guy he has by the hair face first into the wooden wall of the hallway next to the bathroom. He whirls around before the guy reaches him to throw a right hook into his chin, sending him flying back. The third guy releases Sam completely with a shout and lunges, too, but Sam sticks a foot back and trips him so he falls face first.
“Like I said,” Dean says with finality.
“Dean,” Sam repeats his name, looking at him fully. He still has fear showing in his face but Dean is just glad to hear his voice. “You--”
“Sammy,” he says softly, stepping over the man he knocked out with a right hook and pressing Sam back against the wall. He almost backs away when Sam’s beautiful hazel eyes flash with fear -- the last time he had Sam against a wall, he had a hammer and was going to kill Sam and Sam had a knife to his throat that Dean knew he wouldn’t use on him -- but he doesn’t. He holds his ground. “Sammy,” he repeats, raising a hand to caress his little brother’s alcohol flushed cheek. “I don’t want you doing this anymore.”
“Dean, I- I just needed time and--”
He doesn’t know why he does it -- actually, that’s a lie because he knows why he does it, he’s always wanted to do it -- but he leans in and kisses Sam, effectively quieting him. Sam gasps against his lips and accidentally grants access to Dean’s tongue. Dean holds Sam’s chin with one hand while the other trails downward and grips Sam’s hip to press it tightly to the wall, keeping him still. His hips follow soon after and press against Sam’s. He’s careful where they press together so he doesn’t put pressure on Sam’s hurt arm as he deepens the kiss.
Sam doesn’t fight. His free arm lifts up and he wraps his thin fingers into the collar of Dean’s shirt and pulls him closer. Dean smiles into the kiss before pulling away, says softly, “Come back home, Sammy,” and gives him another chaste kiss.
Sam goes home with him, riding shotgun in the Impala as he should. They’ll get the car Sam drove tomorrow. Tonight he’s going to punish Sam for running away, and then claim him like he should have done all those years ago.
#wincest#mark of cain dean#post soul survivor#possessive dean#protective dean#violence#hustling pool#drunk sam#kissing#attempted rape/noncon#not between sam and dean#it's between omc/sam#kind of wanna write a sequel kind of don't#i just love writing about sam being scared and avoiding dean after soul survival#dean deserves the pain of sammy avoiding him <3#hey this is terrible i've just been thinking about it for weeks :)#posting now then i guess i'll reblog it tomorrow or something idk
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The Matchmaker: Three
Bucky rang the bell at the address you had given him and was greeted at the door by a very large man dressed in pants that made him look like a fawn and grease paint on his face to further the illusion. “You must be Bucky,” he said holding out a hand, “Y/N told us you were coming... I’m Nathaniel. A roommate.”
Bucky took the hand he proffered and nodded, “Nice to meet you,” he said. Nathaniel smiled and welcomed him inside, “Pardon the mess. And don’t mind the costume. I’ve got a photoshoot later.” Bucky wanted to ask what for but on the other hand, he thought it was probably best if he didn’t know. Some things about this century confused the shit out of him still.
Nathaniel introduced him to the others. Rocco, Paris, and Rowan, all of them seemed to be very gay. Very gay and sometimes into each other. Bucky shrugged mentally. Good for them. The offered him a beer while he waited and he took it with a smile of thanks. They interacted with him cheerfully but seemed guarded. Like they were assessing him. Not that he minded. It was good to know that there were people who were going to know where you were and what you were doing. He knew he wasn’t going to hurt you but. Bucky only planned on this being a one-time thing. Humoring his sister so she’d let you do your job.
He felt a little awkward as he sipped his beer and listened to their plans for the evening. Something about going clubbing. A weird sort of underground club. It sounded interesting. Interesting and decidedly inappropriate for a first date. He doesn’t register you at first. Too engrossed in listening to one of your roommates explain the intricacy of his last encounter with another man. It was a fascinating comedy of errors. Having culminated in a broken penis and a sobbing high school sweetheart who hadn’t yet noticed the insane amount of gay porn on the communal computer. Long story short, he had a brunch date with the sweetheart and he was going to help her find some totally hot shoes. You pause in the kitchen door and Paris whistles softly, “Yas, Queen,” he says, “That’ll look lovely crumpled on the floor later.” You blush and shake your head, “It isn’t that sort of date,” you tell him, “We talked about it remember?”
Bucky finished his beer to keep from saying “But I wouldn’t mind the change.” He turns and for just a second, he can’t breathe. Your dress is soft grey velvet the color of the sky before a storm. Your lips are burgundy. Your shoes are delicate heels. It’s obvious you enjoy looking pretty. And Bucky doesn’t mind. He’d like to see that dress on the floor. Your lipstick smeared on his chest as you pin him to the bed. His mouth is suddenly dry and he wishes he hadn’t just finished his beer. He wants to take you upstairs and beg you to have your way with him. “Oh you talked,” Paris said, “And talked. And talked. We just don’t believe you.” Your roommates all wear smirks and grins and knowing smiles as you flip them off and slip your fingers into Bucky’s hand. “C’mon,” you tell him. “We’ll go do this and humor Miss Becca. I’ll take a cute picture you can show her.”
“What do we tell Mama Penny when she calls?” Rocco shouts. You half-turn, “Just tell her I’ve gone out. I’ll call her back when I get home.” Bucky follows after you, mentally berating himself. This wasn’t that kind of date. You were doing this to make HIS sister happy. He didn’t have a right to be picturing you straddling his hips and having your way with him.
He didn’t have a right to be planning the next date.
Still, as your bandaged hand rested in his, he was happy. He had a pretty girl on his arm and it just felt normal. “So,” you ask him, “What instructions were you given?” You’re smiling and it makes his heart feel warm. You know Rebecca well. “I’m to show you a nice time, be a gentleman, and make sure I don’t let you get away.”
You laugh softly, “That’s assuming you’re interested in me to start with.” Bucky felt a pang. Did you not konw how beautiful you were? How sweet and soft you looked? How could he not be interested? He wanted to kiss you stupid. Forget dinner and a walk through a book store. He wanted you to know that Rebecca was right. You were his type. Sweet and funny. A big heart and a hard head. “Or you being interested in me,” he counters. You smile a little instead of answering and Bucky doesn’t miss the soft pink blush on your cheeks.
“So,” he says, clearing his throat and redirecting the conversation to keep from confessing that he loved you right there. “Who’s Mama Penny?” he asked. You smile, “That’s my mom. She adopts every stray child she meets,” you explain. He smiles a little, “I see. Your roommates included?” You nod, “Especially those chucklefucks,” you say fondly, “They straight bought her a shirt that says “Proud mom of a bunch of dumbass kids” she wears it like once a week. She loves it.” Bucky smiles, “She sounds fun.” You nod, “I adore her... The only problem currently is that she wants to be a grandma about as much as Rebecca wants to be an auntie.” He snorted, “So did you tell her what you were doing tonight.” You laugh and shake your head, “Absolutely not. She’d be sending me baby names by midnight.” Bucky felt his cheeks color and opened the door of the cafe, “And that’d be awkward.” You smile, “Very. Very awkward.”
You pause off to the side and get Bucky posed to take a cute picture. One to show Rebecca and prove they’d actually gone out. Bucky holds you close to him to steady you but keeps his hands at your waist. He smiles and lets you take a couple. He shakes his head, “Silly Millenials with your cellphones,” he grouses. You shrug, “At least we have proof.” He pulls out your chair for you and takes his own seat before taking his own picture of you, smiling slightly. “Just in case,” he says quickly. “Right,” you say blushing as you order a bubble tea and a Salad. Bucky orders himself a coffee and a burger. He realizes that you feel awkward. That you feel like he has no reason to be here aside from wanting to appease Rebecca’s mother hen instinct. He stood slowly, “I’ll be right back,” he said, “Restroom.” You nod and take a sip of your bubble tea, “Alright. Make new friends.” Bucky can’t help it. He snorts and he enjoys the little smile you give him as you pull out your phone to wait.
In the restroom he pulled out his phone. Bouncing nervously from foot to foot. “Sam,” he said when the other man grunted a hello, “Help me I’m drowning. Like this isn’t a real date but like. If I don’t come up with some shit to talk about this is gonna get really awkward... More awkward than it already is.” Sam whistled softly, “You got it bad huh?” Bucky groaned, “She’s... Rebecca knows me. Really well.... I’m fucked.” Sam chucked and shouted over his shoulder “Rogers, Romanoff, Pay up! The first panic call came in before 9pm” Behind him, Bucky can hear a chorus of groans and Steve yelling, “I’m telling Becky!” Bucky made a soft distressed sound and he felt like he couldn’t breathe. You were so sweet and warm. So soft. He was afraid he’d hurt you but he couldn’t just leave. Sam made a soft sympathetic sound, “Look man,” he said, “Ask her about school. Tell her a cute Story about Rebecca. Just relax.” Bucky took a deep breath. “Okay. Okay. School I can ask about school. That’s good. That doesn’t have awkward things attached to it. She studies linguistics.” Bucky nodded to himself. “Okay. Thanks, Sam.” Sam sighed, “Sure. Any time. Got get her, tiger.”
Bucky hangs up the phone and nods to himself before going to splash water on his face. Normal. A normal date with a pretty girl. No stress. No pressure.
He’s not going to think about Rebecca or his arm. He’s not going to think about the technical age gap. He’s not going to think about what he’d name your kids. That’s it. A fun night out. Just one. No more. You deserve better than him. He takes a deep breath and steadies himself. “I can do this,” he said softly.
As he walks back to the table, you’re texting idly. Waiting for him. You look a little distracted and dreamy. It’s cute. You’re cute. Really cute. He sits back into his chair and smiles, “Sorry about that.” You smile, putting your phone away, “No worries. It’s all good.” Bucky takes a sip of his coffee and sighs, “So, how’s school been going?” You smile, “It’s school. Relentless research. Trying to get some moving pieces and parts together.” Bucky winces sympathetically, “How goes the quest for funding?” You shrug, “It goes. Honestly, if I’d spend less time writing and more time writing grants I’d get done quicker but... it’s just so tedious. I mean. Sometimes I want to give up and be a trophy wife but like... You have to be pretty for that so. That’s out of the question.” The Assassin snorts, “Darlin’ you can do better than being a trophy wife, you’re too smart to be doing that.”
You smile a little, “I mean. I know. But sometimes. Sometimes. When I’m tired of typing and making ends meet, I just really wish that was an option.” Bucky snorts. “Well. I mean. We could probably work something out... How good are you at making Apple Pie?”
You arch an eyebrow, “I knew you were too good to be true,” you sigh, “Anyone Miss Rebecca fixes me up with just HAS to have a weird kink.” Your date can’t help it. He laughs. A big full belly laugh that makes him through his head back and makes several servers turn to stare.
Tags: @lancsnerd @stevieang @golddaggers @blameitonthecauseway @qxeen-of-hearts @process-pending @xmarveled @beautybyfire, @etherealwaifgoddess, @mschellehitt, @mistressoftorture @thorfanficwriter, @ctinadiva, @innerpaperexpertcloud @amalthea9
#Bucky Barnes#bucky barnesxreader#soft bucky#sam wilson#Steve Rogers#Rebecca Barnes#fluff#smut#smutty thoughts#angst if you squint
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Queen of Hearts (Branjie)- athena2
A/N: So this is based off a writing prompt that @writworm42 shared on tumblr: After coming home from a failed date, you find a stranger drinking and sitting on your sofa. With an annoyed expression, the stranger explains that he’s cupid and he’s about to get fired because of your inability to get a second date.
So here it is! Thank you writ for sharing this and beta-ing! Hope you enjoy!
Any feedback would be amazing!
It’s almost midnight when Brooke’s ballet-toned legs get her up seven flights of stairs and through her apartment door. She heaves a deep sigh, wanting nothing more than a shower to wash that disaster of a date–the ninth this month, and by far the biggest failure–right off her body.
She can still feel the woman’s wine-chilled hand on hers, a hand Brooke had shrugged off immediately after the woman said something mean about her friend Nina, Brooke escaping to the bathroom and calling a Lyft a minute later.
Her bag thuds on the floor, her heels quickly following, and she throws her black jacket on the kitchen table, the tension in her shoulders going with it. She’ll get these clothes off and then maybe have some ice cream–
Brooke stares hard into her living room, blinking once, twice, three times, to make sure this is real.
There’s a woman on her couch.
—
She was seven and unwilling for her first kiss. One of the boys in her class ran up to her and shoved his lips against hers during recess, and Brooke didn’t like it. She didn’t like it at all. Her skin was itchy, like bugs were crawling over her, for the whole day.
That was the first time she thought something was wrong with her.
—
“Who are–what–who the fuck are you?” Brooke demands.
The woman has her thigh-high black boots propped up on the coffee table like she owns the place. She’s sprawled out among the pillows, her red silk dress popping against Brooke’s tan couch and with just enough of a deep-V to let Brooke’s imagination run wild. Nestled on either side of her are two balls of fur–Brooke’s cats. She took her cats? The thought vanishes as she notices the woman’s wide, red lips that, Brooke admits, look very kissable. The woman pulls something from a bag on her lap and crunches loudly, chasing it with a gulp of wine right from the half-empty bottle.
“That’s my good wine,” Brooke moans, distracted. “And those are my chocolate-covered pretzels! And my cats!”
“Sorry about the wine, but you kinda owe me. I’mma lose my job ‘cause of you. And the cats jumped right on me, I couldn’t get ‘em off.”
What the actual fuck is going on? Did she hit her head or something? Brooke frantically probes her skull, hoping to find a bump that can explain this all away. “How could I-I don’t even know who you are!”
The woman stands up, setting the bottle on the coffee table with no consideration of a coaster. “Right. I’m Cupid.”
—
Her second kiss was wrapped in the unholy awkwardness of a middle-school dance, when another boy pulled her into the corner and stared at her like she was under a microscope. There was a lot of fumbled groping and foot-shuffling, and then his lips covered hers and she was choking on a cloud of cologne before she could even think if she wanted it. And she still didn’t like it, but she told her friends she did because she didn’t want them to think there was something wrong with her.
Though Brooke was almost certain there was at that point.
—
Okay, she definitely hit her head somewhere. Or maybe she’s high. Did she eat anything weird today? She managed an apple for breakfast and half a salad for lunch before worry over the date devoured the remains of her appetite. Could you get high without knowing?
“I’m sorry, what?” Brooke bites out. “Cupid?”
“Well, Cupid’s just a title, my name’s really Vanessa-”
“I don’t care what your name is! Why the hell are you in my apartment?”
Cupid–Vanessa–whatever her name is–holds up her hands. “Look, I can explain this. Please sit down. Please.”
Brooke finds herself listening, armchair sinking under her weight as Vanessa reclaims her couch position. If Vanessa truly is–and Brooke can’t even believe she’s going along with this–Cupid, maybe she has some sort of power. Some sort of power that’s making Brooke want to listen to every word formed by those lips. Some sort of power that’s making it hard to take her eyes off Vanessa, making her stomach do backflips as Vanessa fixes her wavy hair.
“I could call the police, you know,” Brooke says.
“You could,” Vanessa agrees cheerfully. “But I don’t think you’re going to.”
Brooke is silent. “You better talk,” she warns finally.
—
Brooke was 16 when she realized that she did want to be kissed–she just didn’t want those lips attached to a boy. Not that it made things any easier in the kissing department. She would stare at the lips of the girls in her class, covered with a rainbow of lipsticks and sparkly, sticky, glosses, wondering how they would feel against hers.
But wonder was all she ever did.
—
Vanessa finishes the bottle and starts talking. “Right. So, I’m a Cupid. There’s a whole group of us, love messengers, try to find a match for people, you know the drill.”
“And what does that have to do with me?”
Vanessa shoots her a fiery glance as if to say, this has everything to do with you, bitch.
“You have no idea, girl. None. We’ve been trying to get you a match for years, Mary. People that are harder to match are worth higher points, so us Cupids been fighting to be the one that matches you for a long time.”
Brooke crosses her arms. “So, you’re telling me I’m so unmatchable the love messengers of the universe are fighting over me to get a fucking promotion?”
This isn’t real. There is no way this is real. Any second now she’s going to wake up in bed. But it somehow makes sense. All the bars Nina had dragged her to, all the girls Brooke had noticed that somehow, as if by magic, came up to her and asked her out. All the instant yeses she’d given. But obviously it wasn’t working, given the creeping out of various beds each morning after, not even taking their numbers, because she just didn’t like any of them enough for a relationship.
“Well, not totally like that, but yeah.” Vanessa’s face softens. “Look, I’m desperate here. I don’t normally make house visits, but my ass is on the line, bitch. My numbers this quarter are lower than ever and you were my last chance. We dropped getting you a match and just went to getting you a second date. My friends Silky and A’Keria gave up already. Even the top dog Yvie gave up after that date last week with the boring-ass insurance lady. I’m the only one still fighting for you. I had until tomorrow to get you a second date and now I’m gonna get canned.”
“They were all you,” Brooke breathes. “All those dates…”
“Yeah, I sent you 8–no 9, that was tonight, I can tell from your face it was a shitshow–9 damn women this month and you wouldn’t go on a second date with a single one of them! I mean, that lady with the ear fetish was kinda creepy, but they weren’t all that bad!”
Vanessa shoves a handful of pretzels in her mouth and keeps up a scowl while she chews.
“So none of those people actually liked me?” Maybe she really is unmatchable. Maybe she’s just plain unlovable, even though Nina’s told her several times that’s not true. But how can it not be true when Cupid can’t even find her someone she wants to hold at night and kiss in the morning and laugh with?
Vanessa bolts up. “No, no, they did! I didn’t explain that, shit, I’m sorry. I don’t want you to have any self-steam issues. We don’t force you to love the first person you see and we don’t make people love each other. That’s messed-up. No, we help people that like each other say it. They wanted to ask you out, believe me. I just gave the push to make it happen.”
Thoughts are moving so fast she thinks her head might catch on fire. “Can you, um, give me a minute?”
“Yeah, of course.”
Brooke runs to the bathroom, hoping cold water can stop the furious heat in her cheeks every time she looks at Vanessa.
—
She was 21 when she kissed a girl for the first time, buried in homework and fueled by coffee, as 2 am came and went. And for the first time, she liked it. She knew that this was how a kiss was supposed to feel, and she went back for several more, finally knowing what it was like to kiss someone you wanted to kiss. But something was still missing.
It made her warm inside, made her face flush, made her happy, but it didn’t have that spark like kisses always did in the movies.
She’s yet to have a kiss that did.
—
She pats her face with a towel and lets her deep breaths fill the bathroom.
So Vanessa has been helping women that liked Brooke ask her out, hoping to get her a second date. But something–it was probably Brooke’s fault, these things always were–wasn’t letting it happen.
Brooke thinks of all her dates this month–dinners, mostly, a couple bar trips, all except tonight ending with an inevitable finale in the bedroom. She sweated and fidgeted through small talk, trying to make herself more interesting than the Brooke whose idea of a good night was pizza and a season of Schitt’s Creek with her cats. She enjoyed herself in the bedroom, always did, but she knew, as her date slept and she lay awake, Brooke never able to sleep with someone next to her, that it wasn’t enough for her to do this with them again.
Brooke needed her personal space and solitude and was all but sure before each date started that she would still have it the next day. She knew it would have to be a very special woman for her to allow inside her safe little world, and she had all but given up on finding her, one-night stands her way to fill the void and give her some company for a while. But now, Vanessa was going to be fired if Brooke couldn’t get herself a second date by tomorrow, and she didn’t know why, but she really didn’t want Vanessa to get fired. Vanessa’s been fighting for her all this time. It’s not fair that she should be punished for Brooke’s issues, and she should apologize at least.
“You fall in the toilet or somethin’? I’m already getting fired, I don’t need people thinking I murdered you too!” Vanessa yells and Brooke actually laughs out loud, her snort a sound she hasn’t heard much lately.
She heads back to the living room with a smile on her face.
“You’re dedicated, huh?” Brooke asks, sitting back down. “I mean, you’ve been working on me a while.”
Vanessa shrugs. She’d opened another bottle of wine while Brooke was gone and sips slowly. “Yeah, I guess. Silky gave up a while ago. A’Keria gave up after your 3rd date this month. They told me I was an idiot. They’ve been roasting both our asses since the summer. Calling us “Cupid and the Unmatchable” like we a damn rom-com. They even started the office bet on whether I was gonna get you a second date or not. But everyone deserves love. You too, Brooke.” Her name tumbles from Vanessa’s lips for the first time and Brooke’s heart skips a beat and she doesn’t even care how Vanessa learned it.
“Just makes me happy to see people happy, you know?” Vanessa continues. “Helping people love each other? It’s nice.”
Brooke nods. “Do you, um, love anyone?”
Vanessa takes a deep gulp of wine. “Nah. I’ve been trying. Can’t seem to make anything last past the night.”
“Seems like we have the same problem.”
Vanessa grins and passes the bottle to Brooke wordlessly. Their fingers brush and Brooke’s whole arm jolts like she’s been electrocuted, bottle almost tumbling to the floor.
“Whoa,” Vanessa gasps, jumping back. “You felt that too?”
Brooke can only nod. She takes a long sip. “I’m sorry about your job. I didn’t mean to make you waste your time on me. I wish I could’ve done better or something. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. I’ve been watching you a while. You’re smart, and funny, and real beautiful. Don’t you be feeling bad, there’s nothing you could’ve done. The love you’re meant to be with just wasn’t in any of those bars. Maybe you need a bigger circle for the magic.”
“What do you mean, a bigger circle?”
“That’s another thing. We don’t make people run across the country and get hurt going after the one. Sometimes people died chasing after their match back in the day. We don’t have that kind of power anymore. We do a circle around people in one area, like a bar, to focus the magic and see if people match in it. Cases like yours, where you need a bigger area, that’ll go to the Fates at some point. They’re higher up than we are. They’re the ones that bring matches in different countries together and all that.”
Brooke turns the information over in her mind. She can’t believe how easily she’s believed all this, but she knows Vanessa’s telling the truth.
One second she’s thinking about how long Vanessa’s eyelashes are and the next the idea pops into her head, taking shape on its own. It’s possible the Fates are working right now, giving it to her.
Maybe she doesn’t need a bigger circle. Maybe she just needs the person making it to step inside.
“Use your magic on me now. I want to see something,” Brooke says firmly.
“You’re sure? It’s just me and you here.”
“Do it. Please.”
Vanessa shrugs. “If you’re asking.” But her voice turns up with hope at the end.
Vanessa stands up. Brooke follows after her, hands fidgeting with the hem of her white button-down. Seconds tick by as Brooke bends forward and peers into Vanessa’s brown eyes. Just like in high school, she drifts down to Vanessa’s lips, the deep red blaring like a siren, not a smudge anywhere…she forces herself to focus.
“So you’re gonna…shoot me with an arrow?” Brooke asks, noting the way Vanessa shakes her head back in forth like she’s trying to clear water out of her ears. She hopes the arrow won’t hurt too much, but she thinks she can take the pain it if this goes the way she’s praying it will.
“Well, it’s not a real arrow, it’s a metro–meta–it’s one of those things you say about something that isn’t really true,” she huffs.
“A metaphor,” Brooke interjects.
“Yeah! They stopped the arrows back in the 70’s, I think. Too many deaths. Besides, we can’t be walking around with a giant-ass bow and arrows. This ain’t the south.”
“Right. So, here I am,” Brooke gestures to herself, feet digging into the carpet.
“Here you are,” Vanessa muses with a smile. “Just try to stay still, okay?”
Brooke nods. Vanessa twirls her fingers around and a tiny red spark of light speeds across the living room and settles into Brooke’s chest, warming her from her head to her toes. All the blood in her body rushes upward and she thinks it might lift her off the floor. She looks at Vanessa but there’s two of her, one hazy around the edges. Brooke squeezes her eyes shut as her legs stop working–
A warm hand on her arm stops her from hitting the floor and guides her to the couch.
“Shit, sorry! It makes people dizzy sometimes. You okay? Want some water?”
Brooke forces her eyes open. Only one Vanessa is in front of her, eyes wide with concern. “I-I’m okay,” Brooke says. She looks at Vanessa and everything falls into place, a blurry picture coming into full focus. “I think it worked.”
Vanessa’s eyes light up. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Brooke pulls Vanessa closer, finally pressing those lips to hers, and she understands now that her kisses haven’t been missing something. They’ve been missing someone.
This is what a kiss is supposed to feel like: her entire body coming alive, heat pulsing through her veins, the rumble of cars outside silenced, her work stresses melted away, time itself ceasing to exist.
Vanessa pulls away suddenly and stares at Brooke with a wide-open mouth. “Maybe I shoulda put myself in the circle a long time ago.”
“Mmm,” Brooke mumbles, hands gripping at Vanessa’s sides.
“Bed?” Vanessa asks.
Brooke lifts her right off the couch and runs to the bedroom with Vanessa giggling in her arms.
Vanessa tears her boots away and pulls off her red silk dress, exposing smooth tan skin. Brooke sheds her shirt and throws it beside the dress.
“Hey, aren’t you supposed to wear a diaper?”
“They got rid of those in the 40’s. Get with the times, Mary.” Vanessa grins as Brooke scoops her up and tosses her on the bed.
—
“So I’m thinking dinner tomorrow,” Vanessa says, cuddling closer to Brooke. “For our second date. I don’t care where we go, but they better have mozzarella sticks.”
“Of course,” Brooke agrees.
Vanessa sighs in content and falls asleep against Brooke’s chest in less than a minute.
Brooke places a hand on Vanessa’s back, her finger tracing patterns on the soft skin, the motion soothing.
For the first time ever with someone next to her, Brooke is carried away by a peaceful sleep.
#rpdr fanfiction#brooke lynn hytes#vanessa vanjie mateo#branjie#fluff#mild implied smut#lesbian au#cupid au#athena2#concrit welcome#submission
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※ SHIT I HEARD AT COLLEGE ※
a thrilling saga of shit i’ve heard at college; these are all from my first semester of sophomore year. feel free to change names/pronouns/etc.! more ‘shit i heard/said’ starters!
“The porn industry is moving swimmingly.”
“We all need men. Go find them.”
“It’s not an opera, bitches, it’s a flight.”
“Don’t look! It makes their dick bigger!”
“I have my own place and I can light as many candles as I want.”
“I’m not a librarian, sir.”
“How’s your sack lunch, bitch?”
“Stab me in the ass and turn me into Kim Kardashian.”
“I stayed up another hour just to cry.”
“I just got a nude and I don’t know how to feel about it.”
“I’m gonna go stab my eyes out now.”
“We get it. You have a big truck and a small penis.”
“It’s an epidemic, Karter!”
“There’s no cups, so I’m using a bowl. To drink apple juice.”
“Fuck y’all, I’m eating Fruit Loops!”
“I don’t know my superhero name, but here I am with my can of Lysol and my plastic fork.”
“Your list of things to do includes making the best 2000s playlist of all time and fighting me at Cheesecake Factory.”
“This is borderline human abuse.”
“How do you feel about fluorescent lighting?”
“I’m sorry, I’m on a college budget, I’ll give you two nickels and a paper clip.”
“We couldn’t say hell, because… Catholic school problems.”
“I don’t want them to call me and be like, ‘we’re about to drill into your face!’”
“Ugh, yes, the hot TA, what club are you in?”
“My rat bastard dad? What about him?”
“I have an idea that I’m positive no other human has ever had: butter flavored ice cream.”
“I hate myself, but I’m funny, so…”
“This man loves puppies and he is not afraid to say it.”
“There’s just something about stale food that I really like.”
“I like how we’re watching our upcoming death on TV.”
“When I get wasted, I want to fight. It’s a problem.”
“My boyfriend got really drunk and started drinking nectar out of the hummingbird feeder.”
“He currently has a child.”
“That’s a good way of getting rid of a baby.”
“He can’t look at his dead parents or his alive children.”
“I can’t focus on reading, ‘cause I just wanna watch Drake and Josh.”
“My roommate loves manifestos. Especially the Communist Manifesto.”
“Have you studied his naked body or something?”
“Okay, we got our Greek tragic playwrights: there’s Sophocles… there’s Euripides… uh… Isosceles?”
“We’re so stupid we click things that say ‘click here for here’.”
“So there were just 95 loose pigs.”
“This is called shaming.”
“I can’t be the only person who says ‘meatballs and spaghetti’.”
“What could go wrong? …oh, shit, I’m on fire.”
“Don’t call Kourtney unless you wanna suck dick tonight.”
“There’s no one around. He’s talking to his dick.”
“Just ‘cause it’s Greek doesn’t mean it’s sophisticated.”
“I hate myself, but I hate her more.”
“I don’t know anything about it, but it has bread in the name, so I want to try it.”
“Just… don’t breathe this class.”
“Megan: secret crop top wearer.”
“I’m embracing my aesthetic while you’re embracing… Jon Hamm’s face.”
“What are we doing tonight besides homework? …and bread?”
“I’m witnessing a breakup right here in the Starbucks line.”
“I nominate Gushers as a snack suggestion, but, like, a lot of them. All of them.”
“I have a strong immune system.”
“I was so worked up about the bolo ties.”
“Also, I was wine drunk, so…”
“Does she hit him? I hope she hits him.”
“Only Matthew McConaughey drives Lincolns.”
“Oh, yeah, I’m totally a Republican… Pence is daddy…”
“After that… is the exact same thing… from a different angle.”
“All my life, I’ve been striving to be better than Kidz Bop.”
“Is ‘slaveitude’ a word?”
“Ted Bundy was attractive. People knew him.”
“I feel like whoever’s in charge of the Reese’s company is really high right now. Like, putting Reese’s inside of Reese’s.”
“One beer bottle on campus might be a problem, but if there’s 8, they’re props.”
“With elevators, it’s not claustrophobia. It’s that I don’t trust the government.”
“Headphones: in. World: out. Notes font: ugly.”
“You know that’s a felony, right?”
“That’s a… fourth or fifth impression kind of story.”
“That means she definitely fucked a member of Kiss.”
“I feel free, but also ugly.”
“This is my unassigned assigned seat, and if any of you take it, I will fight you.”
“I went to the Home Depot, bought a bunch of lights, put them up in the air, and said ‘this is art’.”
“Because I was a full New Yorker, I just kept walking.”
“We almost died, but our last meal would’ve been free, so…”
“What’s a funeral like in 2017? GIFs and memes.”
“I would like to thank not only God but also Tinder.”
“I sat through a 40 minute argument about how Justin Bieber started the Cold War.”
“I’m just walking down the hallway, thinking about ways to throw myself down the stairs and make it look like an accident.”
“Now, if it was Kidz Bop, I’d go see it.”
“Don’t name your kid Ethelwold.”
“Shoulders, chest, pants, shoes: a vision for America.”
“My dad’s not getting dick from anyone.”
“I’m a shady beach and y’all are my shady beaches.”
“Oh, no, don’t write that down…”
“At Chipotle, God himself picked those avocados and put them in the guacamole.”
“It should be a holiday: Ohio awareness day.”
“We should go to a nice place. A formal place. California Pizza Kitchen.”
“What do you do in geology lab? Dissect rocks?”
“What great weather for a mental breakdown.”
“He’s not computer generated; he’s actually that large.”
“I’ve done some soul searching and I think that ranch dressing is my favorite food.”
“I almost said his birthday was in 1926. It’s like, we got a little bit of an age gap.”
“Are you physically running away from the situation?”
“I will personally call Papa John to tell him that he’s the reason my life isn’t going right.”
“I can’t wait for middle-aged sex now.”
“I should’ve known, there aren’t two eclipses in a year!”
“I walked around with a bear taser for a year and a half.”
“I found out that the guy I have a restraining order against has been peeing on my car for two years.”
“He fought the devil in jeans and no shirt.”
“She threw my fucking pillow off of the balcony!”
“Tickets are for something fun. Paying the check is not fun.”
“It’s Halloween, calories don’t count on holidays.”
“Well, you know how I said we met in philosophy class? Well… Elise doesn’t take philosophy class.”
“You got it wrong. You said 56 point 2. The answer was 56 point 2.”
“Do I want that horrible sock tan line that I had for five years back? Yeah, I do.”
“I got drunk, threw up, got high, and came here.”
“It’s Titanic blue. I’m the Heart of the Ocean, bitch.”
“The only rat bastard in our lives is Russ.”
“The beats are so good, but the words are such trash.”
“I had to fight someone in the elevator yesterday.
“…I’ve awakened the Demigorgon.”
“We solved the great hiccup epidemic of 2017.”
“Watch out, Kansas, I’m coming for you.”
“Do not associate my birthday with math terms.”
“That’s some Hunger Games type shit.”
“Fuck y’all, I hope you trip and die.”
“I’m very confused and also cold: an American tale. A five part miniseries, this fall on HBO.”
“I am Mrs. Grey! Bring me the kink!”
“I really wanna make a shirt that’s all Comic Sans.”
“I was thinking about Panera’s mac and cheese in a bread bowl, and I started crying.”
“We’re gonna steal your WiFi, but it’s okay, because Panhellenic love.”
“I have confidence that you’re not gonna get pregnant within those two hours.”
“See if this card works. I mean, it should work, but, like…”
“I think my favorite part was slowly dying.”
“All they serve is chicken salad, so you really have to like chicken salad.”
“I have three papers and a test this week, I don’t have time for feelings to resurface.”
“I’m living a life. Not my best one.”
“When you write a report on a book you’ve never read.”
“Don’t tell me what to wear when you wear Crocs to the bar.”
“I have listened to literally nothing but Hallelujah and My Heart Will Go On all day today.”
“Oh my god, Elise, you fucking bitch, get your shit together, and write your paper.”
You know what I’m really devastated about? I’m all out of Fruit Roll-ups.”
“We’re gonna be teachers. We have school forever.”
“I don’t want your sympathy, I want your anger.”
“Clowns… doorknobs… the color yellow… ducks… I’m quoting Victorious…”
“Did you just say ‘hey Sophie’ to not include me? ‘Cause, guess what, bitch, I’m still here.”
“I live here, I know when we have salad!”
“I think Satan’s middle name is cumulative.”
“I will put up with my moose husband for however long I need.”
“I’ve literally been down here for an hour and a half waiting for these nonexistent cookies.”
“I’m keeping a detailed list of Elise’s hickeys.”
“I’m an adult, I say as I eat my Fruit Roll-up.”
“Oh, my practicum grade is in! Let’s see… 36.”
“SOS, I’m in bed and it’s so comfy, but I need to get up to study, what do I do?”
“Get up. Only a few more days until we can sleep all we want.”
“So you’re admitting you live in the woods.”
“I don’t know if it’s finals stress or if this is actually the cutest thing I’ve ever seen, but I’m crying.”
“It was optional, don’t make me feel bad for skipping class.”
“I’ve heard that, if enough people fail, they’ll have to curve it.”
“How do you even study for this?”
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We Went on a Field Trip at Work Today!!
[Uh, lots of photos I guess, just a heads up]
So around 9:30 this morning we mostly ran out of things to do in the bakery - which is kind of rare. Usually we do a lot of catch up on Saturday because we're closed for lunch, so we can spread out and do more than we could usually get done before the lunch time set up. We're changing one of our desserts this coming week from a Moroccan Spiced Apple Tart to a Roasted Spiced Peach Tart. We've also been making a lot of peach sorbet for our other restaurant. And we’re going to do a peach+ginger sauce - so.
We definitely didn't have enough peaches in house, PLUS we didn't call ahead to order from the Peach Truck for a delivery.
Also, we were waiting for this to happen:
[spoilers, it was gonna be a while before the bread got this big]
So my boss turned to me and said we needed to do something fun, and so we packed into her car and drove off to the Nashville Farmer’s Market (which isn't far, just about six minutes away from the restaurant).
We absolutely stopped and bought strawberries today to take home.
Smiley’s brought about 95ish bushels of squash and zucchini!!!
There was a stand letting people cut their own salad blends today too.
There's a crepe stand open at the market now too, next to the ice cream place.
So we admired the market for about an hour and then finally picked up some cases of peaches and took those back...
And then walked them back about a block and a half from the car to the restaurant. At which point I'd JUST slipped in the door to unload and turn off the alarm when my boss got stopped by random people on the street, so she had to stand there next to the door for five minutes while the CMA goers kept listing off nearby restaurants trying to find out what was open for lunch, but then not liking any of the choices...
All told, we had a really fun time, and I totally went back after work to get more stuff. ALSO I stopped at the fancy hot dog and beer stand when I went back [Jackalope Brewery Lovebirds is a raspberry beer, and also a hotdog with a pickle spear, coleslaw, and pimento cheese which was A+].
Best of all?
The beer came in half pints!!! So I had a nice and quick mellow out of the 90F heat without being tipsy.
I went back for sugar plums, which I almost never find anywhere, some zucchini for a casserole tonight and about 3lb of green beans I'm going to pickle.
A pretty gosh-darn good day.
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last night I dreamed that I was an archeologist tortoise and I was looking at dozens of “human” skeletons in Buckingham palace that was also my backyard. the skeletons all looked like combo human and turtle because the whole torso looked basically like the first google image result for sea turtle skeleton. then my sister woke me up, giving me a comforter and telling me my mom need help with some things. cleaned up around the living room and did some laundry and boiled some eggs and made meatloaf and swept the floor. the meatloaf turned out surprisingly good, idk what I did differently. I evemtually went back to my room and tried to remember what I wanted to do today. last night as I was falling asleep I told myself that I was gonna clear off my desk so I could finally use it, so I moved some stuff around and set up my laptop. I havent been able to sit at a real actual desk in SO LONG and its SO NICE to have just like a space where I can sit down and work and have a chair that will support my back instead of sitting cross legged on my bed or laying down while doing stuff on my laptop. it almost makes me feel productive even I'm just playing the sims. I feel especially cool when im just typing out whatever bullshit because it makes me feel like im at an office job typing up ~important documents~ :) idk man I think quarantine has changed me lmao. if im getting this many emotions from just being able to sit down at a desk and do ANYTHING idk how im gonna handle collage. I keep calling whetever im doing (playing the sims, scrolling through Tumblr, typing up this summary of the day) work because it just. feels nice sitting at a desk and typing. even if it’s dumb bullshit!! idk how to describe it I just feel amazing. it makes me feel like im writing a paper with all the horrible parts like research and thinking. the sound of typing on my MacBook makes me feel like im in school again, but without the horrible stressful parts. idk mn I know I've been going on about this desk and stuff for too long and im gonna hate it if I eventually read back through these daily logs but I just feel so nice. ill change topics anyway. I hung up my calendar again! I literally didn't have any open wall space aside from maybe the wall behind my bed but why the hell would I put a calendar where I can't see it. instead its kind of hanging above my closet. I pinned it to the wooden board in the “doorway” (idk what other word to use) where there would normally be sliding doors that open and shut if they hadn't been taken off YEARS ago. I also played a lot of the sims 4, juggling aspirations for 5 sims. I quit because I got frustrated that all my sims are dumb and the ai Is buggy and doesn't let me do what I want them to do. I also plopped in a house on my family’s old lot and spent some time adjusting the colors and the trees and adding those paper craft cieling things that can either have stars or leaves or snowflakes that came in the free winter holiday stuff pack and holy shit as soon as I found those I think they became my new favorite decoration item. I threw them everywhere but eventually took down most of them, leaving some leaf ones in the bedroom. I was gonna move in a family of a bunch of young adults and children to help with the first kid’s serial romantic aspiration and one of the twin’s social butterfly aspiration, but I ended up not doing that in favor of just decorating more and playing with the family some more. one thing I realized while playing is that there are fucking MICE in my CIELING. well not really in the cieling, in the attic, but I can hear them chewing on shit and its sucks. I would turn on a fan to drown out the noise but my room is fucking FREEZING. I threw the blanket back over my window hoping that it would keep heat from escaping but I don't think that really did anything. so after freezing my ass off I got fed up and put on fluffy socks under normal socks, wore my owl onesie as pants over my shorts, put on my comfy (oversized hoodie), and threw a fluffy blanket over my shoulders. thankfully I was pretty cozy after that, but as I type this after taking off the cosy and blanket, I can feel my toes getting cold again. damnit. ANYWAY after quitting the sims for the night I ate some salad and got a heart shaped crouton :) and I scrolled through Tumblr for a bit. then I decided to finally work on the paws my friend wanted. but I couldn't find the pattern so I instead worked on the brown paws instead. I could only work on them so much, since I still have to finish the lining before I can do much else. I attached the backs of the fingers to the back of the hand. I didnt get much down but what matters is that I did SOMETHING. I'm gonna keep an eye out for that pattern that I need, and if I cant find it, I'll just make a new pattern. tbh I think thad’s be the better way to go anyway since I wouldn't have to figure out how the fuck the old one goes together and I can also have a pattern that perfectly fits the foam underneath. also tbh i have mixed feeling about the white paws my friend wants. I like how dextrous they are and how easily you can emote and move your fingers, but I dont like how ovular I made the paw pads and the hints of black thread peaking out where I sewed the pads from the back. I WOULD just remake them with the free curl works pattern im using for the brown paws but I figure I might as well finish this pair since there’s already one done and the foam interior is already made. whatever. I dont wanna think about it too much. I also dont like the head that goes with the paws, it was a fish job in comparison to my first head and I kinda hate it. but I think I'll eventually get some longer fur for the neck and a hair poof and cheeks (maybe) and do a little refurbishing and give it to my friend if she ever wants it, since it matches the paws and all. I have lots of plans for my 2 WIP heads but not all the materials/motivation. plus I just need to let the ideas stir before I do unything, making sure they’re goof before I act on them. I'm exited that I can shave down fur relativey easily and evenly without an electric dog shaver, which opens up a lot of opportunities. anyway as I was working on the brown paws I had TAZ on in the background and it still baffles me a little bit how different griffin and Matt mercer operate as dms like holy shit. its really funny. and it got me thinking about how I wouldn't mind dming for my friend group if he chance ever arose. I DO have the forgotten realms campaign setting book. I haven't actually looked at it but I assume it has a few pre-built quests and plot lines n stuff in it. I'll probably take a better look at in the morning when it’s not 1:40 am. dang now I'm thinking about my Minecraft dnd idea again. I think the real problem keeping me from being a dm is that I CANNOT keep a straight face when doing improv/roleplaying, so I dont know how well I could hold together a world for them to play in. I would love to give it a try tho. not with the Minecraft idea at the same time, fuck no. I would need to do like. a classic vanilla dnd experience the first time, maybe even using our tiefling family characters since I'm at least a little familiar with them. can you dm and also play your own character? is that fair? is that a think you can do? I think that could be fun but also hard to juggle and also maybe kinda suck because you’d already know all the answers to all the puzzles. meh. actually now I kind of really want to look through thet book tonight instead of in the morning. also I mentioned overnight oats a few days ago I think, and the first morning it was kinda gross, the second time I ate it was still a little gross texture wise, but I finished it off tonight and it was pretty good. maybe next time I'll try it without the banana and a little less milk and maybe slice up an apple into little cubes for texture. hell yeah peanut butter apple cinnamon brown sugar overnight oats. that sound pretty dang good actually. I'll try that some time, but I dont think I can right now because I dont think we have any apples in the house. phooey. I should also probably put this oatmeal cp in the sink before it becomes impossible to clean. holy shit how long have I been writing? SEE THE DESK MAKES ME JUST WANNA KEEP WRITING AND WRITING FOREVER I FEEL SO PRODUCTIVE EVEN IF IM NOT DOING ANYTHING PRODUCTIVE!! I love just typing and typing forever its so soothing just hearing the tapping of the keyboard and getting my thought out without actually having to think that hard about it. goddamn im never gonna read back through this this is a nightmare lmao. no paragraph breaks no capitalization no nothin. I dont even wanna stop typing even though my arm is starting to hurt a little but from leaning the edge of the desk. now im thinking about the movie soul again and the cat as it rides on the escalator to the great beyond and how that dude in the band was the main characters student and how that scene with the girl trying to quit music and then immediately changed her mind didnt make any sense. like what the hell I dont understand that scene at all. also thinking about the transition where he’s like “ok repeat after me” as he’s in the cat and the camera goes over the mom’s shoulder and it’s just him talking, I like how they did that instead of doing dialouge between him and the cat. idk man. I think maybe I should stop typing now since my body is starting to hurt. sorry for putting this H U G E wall of text on your dash but I just like typing out my thoughts :) goodnight!
edit: OH I forgot to talk about something else!! last night I was thinking about valentines day and how cute it would be to have a little overall dress in the pattern on one of my childhood blankets, its like a light pink with white hearts on it so I looked up some fabrics and none of them were the right pattern. I also looked up a sewing pattern that I think would look nice and its on sale right now! I totally want to try and make it, but fabric is expensive so I think I might look at dollar tree for fleece baby blankets because I know they have them there, I bought a few a while ago for some plush sewing projects. they’re decently sized so I think I could do it.idk how many I would need to buy tho. or I might go to goodwill and look for a pink sheet? I have a thin pink blanket that could theoretically work but I want to use a planet im not attached to. or even just find a few big shirts in the same shade of pink? then I could maybe line it with something. I have red purple and white satin but that’s literally the worst fuckin fabric in the world to work with. my first experience with sewing was trying to make plushies out of satin and holy hell idk how I did it. anyway even though I literally never wear dresses I think it would be a fun project to try and make myself a cute little valentines dress. :) I could even give myself POCKETS >:)))
#thanks for coming to my ted talk#long post#I think maybe I should tag my daily shit with something like 2021 journal? idk im lazy so we'll see#January 2021 daily#2021 daily
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Thanksgiving, part 2
-I’m going to be with Iubar, will you be alright?
I’ll be with Reg and her family, gotta help with dinner. Are you two going to have an entire dinner yourselves?-
-If by dinner you mean a shit ton of chicken wings and beer, then yes.
D: that’s not a dinner. Give me his address, I’ll send shaymin with some things.-
-Babe it’s fine. We don’t need that much food anyway.
But it’s TRADITION >:0 -
At least let me send some pies. I make the best pies.-
What kind does Iubar like?-
-Oh my god babe
-Let me ask
-He says sweet potato and apple
Okay I’ll have them ready by tonight.-
-Don’t you want to know my favorite?
It’s lemon. And you don’t get a pie because you’re not here.-
Ivory let out a sigh. He probably deserved that.
“I knew he was mad at me.” he mumbled, petulant. Iubar gave him a sideways glance from his spot on the couch, flipping channels.
“Are you whining because your boyfriend won’t send you a pie?”
“No!”
“Yes you are. You know he’s teasing right?” he stopped on a movie long enough to give the explosions a polite consideration before moving on. He’d seen it already. “I’ll bet you $50 that a lemon pie shows up with the rest.”
They stared silently at some cartoon they landed on, hypnotised by its colorful stupidity. Before long Ivory held out his hand. “I’ll take that bet.” Iubar shook it.
“You’re an idiot.”
They settled on the cartoon, with houndoom stretched out between them, taking turns to beg each of them for ear scratches with sloppy licks to the face. He always sent Ivory sputtering. He noted with slight embarrassment how accustomed he’d gotten to tiny Bean and her neat little habits. She was a needy thing but also the size of a potato so you could just plop her on your shoulder or in the hood of your jacket to keep her happy.
Before long the dog’s big head settled into his lap, and he could feel the post-job crash creeping in. His limbs turned leaden and his eyes drooped. Then… nothing.
Iubar shook his head at the first few quiet snores. He’d be out for hours, that much he knew. Welp, he decided as he rose from the sofa. This is as good a time as any to go shopping. And maybe clear out the guest room.
Houndoom’s head perked up when he saw his master don his coat. His tail thumped against the couch cushion. Walk? Was there gonna be a walk??
But his master only held out a steadying hand, low to the ground. The command for stay. Oh very well then. He settled back into Ivory’s lap with a groan.
-
When Ivory awoke, it was dark outside and he had a throw blanket on him. The was a faint sizzling sound coming from the kitchen and the unmistakable scent of bacon that sent him leaping to his feet. Fuuuuuuck yes.
“Ivory, back from the dead.” Iubar waved a pair of tongs at him. Houndoom sat at a special chair set up just for him by the island, whimpering. He usually had something to do when Iubar cooked, but it didn’t seem like today he was needed.
“Hey man,” he sank into a barstool beside the table, stifling a yawn. ‘Sorry for passing out on you like that.”
“No worries, I’m used to it. Wandering the countryside babysitting takes a lot out of you. Oh fine you big baby here,” he turned to the whining dog behind him, grabbing some yellow and orange bell peppers and impaling them on a spiked contraption set on the counter. “Roast these.”
Ivory perked up as he watched Houndoom work. It was an incredible thing to witness, this creature that his friend had raised from birth square his paws and release a steady and deliberate stream of flame upon the delicate peppers, roasting them to perfection. Rhys would love to see this.
Iubar snapped his fingers in his face, grabbing his attention.
“You home?”
Ivory yawned again. “Yeah, totally.”
Iubar shook his head and returned to his bacon, a half fond half amused smile on his face. One thing that had never changed in the ten plus years they’d known each other was just how useless Ivory was just after waking.
“Go get a shower, you smell rank. I’ll make you some coffee.”
“Yeah. Yeah I’ll do that.” He shuffled off to the bathroom. The was a half second pause before Lubar called back: “And go ahead and drop your dirty clothes in the washer!”
-
Iubar was smearing homemade aioli on toasted bread when Ivory returned, a towel draped over his head and wearing one of his shirts that was - and let’s be reasonable here- way too small for him.
“Dude… you’re going to stretch it out…” He let out weakly, knowing it was already too late. Ivory shrugged, saying how it was this or he walk around naked before he was waved off and a sandwich was pressed into his face as well a a small bowl of chopped vegetables.
“Keep it you mooch. Will you take this to the legendary sleeping in my guest room please?”
Ivory blinked in surprise.
“Wha-?”
“Thanks for telling me your boyfriend had a shaymin Showed up while you were in the shower, nearly gave me a heart attack and houndoom almost ate him. You didn’t hear the shouting?”
“Uh… no.” His friend simply shook his head and assembled his own sandwich.
-
Shaymin was grooming himself on the bed when Ivory walked in. His actions ceased the moment he noticed the man, and he gathered himself up primly.
“It’s about time!” He complained, cheeks puffed out. “That beast almost ate me!”
“Well in his defense, “ he set the bowl before him, smiling when the little thing immediately plucked a cherry tomato out and nibbled on it. “You are the perfect sized mouthful for a houndoom, and you were carrying delicious treats on top of that.”
That earned him the teeniest growl he had ever heard. So damn cute.
“I should take back the lemon pies and tell him you’re being mean.”
Wait.
“He made me a pie??” He brightened, face lighting up. Shaymin just ‘hmmph’ed grumpily into his salad.
‘Of course he did idiot! Why wouldn’t he? Not that you deserve it…”
Ivory picked up the little creature, ignoring his frantic protests and kissed the top of his head. Shaymin deflated, accepting his fate.
“You’re the best, don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise.” He pressed more kisses on Shaymin’s head, who renewed his struggles.
‘Of course I’m the best! Who would ever say otherwise??”
“I dunno, people?”
“Stupid people,” Shaymin pouted, munching a carrot slice. “Your friend has good vegetables. Not like at home, but they’re still good.”
Ivory swelled in pride.
“Yeah, Iubar is awesome. Come on, I’ll introduce you properly.” he held out his hand, letting the pokemon crawl up his arm while he held the veggie bowl in the other hand.
“That beast won’t eat me?”
“I promise.”
-
After introductions were made, the four of them settled into their meals quietly. Shaymin seemed distracted however, his gaze shifting from Ivory to Iubar, then back again.
“Are you two mating?”
Both men choked on their sandwiches.
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Word to the wise, eat some mothereffing carbs before you go on a long run, for the love of god.
Today was my long run of the week, 5 miles, and the longest I’ve run straight in this whole training plan. I was nervous. Especially since I woke up with my back and butt sore af from yesterday’s workout. I forgot how much ellipticals make you work. Anyway, I was busy pinning recipes and doing work, and I barely ate those nasty burnt sweet potato fries from last night, so my lunch was extremely small. I already had a small breakfast too, so this was not a good sign. I figured I was fine, so I grabbed my stuff and set out for the trail.
It was so beautiful out, literally like the perfect running weather. My first two miles were really rough, with sore ankles especially on the left after yesterday’s cardio. It started to wane a little when I went further. I ran surprisingly slow for me, but I could barely push a lot harder knowing I’d have to keep my stamina. The second half of the run was much better once I turned back towards the start. Finishing felt really good, with negative splits from the middle mile on. Yay.
HOWEVER, I felt like total shit starting 15 minutes later, and my stomach was killing me. I felt like throwing up for at least an hour. I was dying. I was hungry but couldn’t seem to find a good thing to eat. I settled on the apple I had with me but I still felt awful for a while. Woof. Eat your carbs so you don’t feel like this, kiddos. I felt weak all evening until I started cooking, like even by the time I went to Target on a small grocery run. I actually had to lean against a few walls at some points bc I thought I was gonna pass out. Truly terrible.
I prepared two types of chicken tonight, a baked chili olive oil rub breast for later in the week, and panko parm crusted chicken for tonight. I made enough for a kindergarten class, but it’s ok bc I’ll def eat all of it eventually, seeing as chicken is my main source of protein. I was planning on making kale chips and / or crack broccoli in addition for my side, but I was just too exhausted so I opted for a salad with goat cheese and watermelon. I don’t do feta. But the goat cheese was a good combo anyway 😛
Blech. Maybe I’ll take a day off tomorrow to let my body reset. Ugh. You gotta have some bad days to remind you why diet AND exercise are both crucial, I guess.
5.00 mi 10'10" min / mi
#nike running#nike run club#running#runblr#half marathon training#workout#weight loss#meal prep#fitness journey#fitblr#fitspo#fitness#motivation#marchrunclub#athleisure aesthetic
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