The Mysterious Prom Date (Part 1): Peter Parker Series
Warnings: mention of vomit and allergies but as a joke nothing bad happens, food, embarrassment, adorable little Peter Parker
A/N: This was not a request. I’ve been working on this as a little “I’m Sorry” for not being active. If you like it, and ask, I may make this a series! I have a lot of ideas for it :)
(not my gif)
Blind dates aren’t exactly something you participate in willingly. They were always awkward and if you ended up not liking the guy, you’d end up stuck having dinner with some conceited jerk who only talks about his muscles or how many people he’s dated. Yeah, not fun.
If you thought blind dates were bad, imagine a blind date… to prom.
Character A works at a makeup store, and Character B has just come in to learn how to do makeup. Character B is extremely nervous because they haven’t had any experience with doing makeup before, but Character A is thrilled to help Character B out.
“Listen, I’m not supposed to tell you this, but you can get this product for $20 cheaper in the drugstore section of this makeup store. Let me show you how to look great without breaking the bank.” AU
Character A has an extremely fancy event coming up, and after watching tons of youtube beauty videos, they’ve concluded that doing a gold glitter ombre smokey eye look is way out of their league. Going to a fancy makeup store, Character A asks if Character B (an employee) can do their makeup.
While at work, Character A offers to do a makeup application on their coworker, Character B, because the store is so dead and they’re both bored. When Character A is finished, they’re both surprised with how amazing Character B looks.
“The trick to doing a perfect winged liner is all in the wrist…and in using a lot of makeup remover. Here, come over to the mirror and I’ll demonstrate on you.” AU
Character A is highkey crushing on Character B, an employee at a makeup store. Gathering up their courage, Character A asks if Character B could help them with learning how to do their eye shadow, and then proceeds to try not to faint while Character B hovers really close to Character A’s face. Character B thinks that this is hilarious and definitely takes a lot longer to do Character A’s makeup than necessary.
“Oh! Oh my god! Yes darling, you look so beautiful right now, but please don’t cry! That mascara isn’t waterproof!” AU
- him coming early to your house and ending up pacing the front of your door bc he’s nervous
- giving you flowers with a shy side smile and taking your hand to the car
- staring at you like you’re the only girl in the world throughout the whole date (despite all of the girls on the sidewalks and waitresses that are checking him out)
- nearly throwing a huge fit when a waitress gives him her number and says to hit her up if things don’t work out “jesus fucking Christ” “no, jimin it’s oka–” “no it’s not, we are leaving”
- spending the rest of the night with him tightly holding your hand and staring at the stars at the park in extremely fancy clothes “jimin are you–” “you know I really love you right? and there’s no one else I will love as much” “Jim–” “I’m serious” “yeah, I know.”
- taking you out for ice cream to make up for everything and going home with ice cream covered smiles
The sound of his wet
shoes slapping against the tiled floor reached Dan’s ears long before
the realisation that perhaps this was a bad thing. He turned, vaguely
dismayed at the muddy footprints he’d left on the Lesters’ hallway
floor, but more immediately concerned by the twinges in his ankle.
He’d been secretly ecstatic to have been invited to spend Phil’s
birthday up north with his family, and obviously the weekend had been
amazing, and of course he loved Phil’s family to bits, but after
injuring his ankle, knee and both wrists on two consecutive walks, he
felt he’d sustained enough damage to his body and wanted nothing more
than to return home to their apartment, and kiss Phil without being
laughed at by Martyn. Maybe more than kiss Phil. It had been a while
since they’d had a house to themselves.
greeted him cheerily, clattering down the stairs. “You really
shouldn’t be allowed out, you know. Are any of your limbs
still in commission?”
“No,” Dan replied,
grumpily. “All of me hurts, and I have another headache.”
Phil only laughed at
him. “Do you want to go and lie down for a bit? There won’t be
anyone in my room, so you can have a bit of peace and quiet.”
After a moment’s
consideration, Dan decided that this was the best of his options, all
of which seemed a little undesirable in his discontented state of
mind. “Yes please,” he mumbled, toeing off his shoes and hanging
his bedraggled jacket over the bannister rail. Phil moved aside to
let him past, quietly realising that Dan was in no mood for talking,
and that prolonging the conversation would only serve to provoke him.
Dan’s eyes skittered over Phil’s body as he squeezed past him, red
tingeing his cheeks, wishing wholeheartedly that they were back in
their apartment, so he could press Phil up against that spot on the
“Do you want me to
bring you hot chocolate?” Phil asked, looking a little nervous.
“I-I was going to make for me anyway.”
Dan nodded, blushing
again, and hurried up the stairs so he could close the door on Phil
and those thoughts. He struggled out of his sodden jeans, shivering
slightly, and tugged on one of Phil’s hoodies. He caught sight of
himself in the mirror and winced, turning away quickly from the wreck
of his hair and general appearance, and crawled beneath the covers,
sighing in contentment as the warm smell of Phil enveloped him and
his bare legs slid smoothly under cool sheets. Exhaustion came upon
him all at once the moment his body relaxed, the settling of his back
and shoulders against the mattress almost painful, his eyelids heavy
as they slipped closed almost without his noticing.
* * *
Dan stirred drowsily,
eyelids fluttering open and muscles stretching in a way he instantly
regretted. The bedroom door eased slowly open, and he sat bolt
upright in a welter of blankets, irrational panic flooding his brain,
but it was only Phil, with an apologetic smile and an enormous mug of
what must be be hot chocolate. “Sorry I took so long, a family
friend stopped by for coffee. It’s probably a good thing you missed
it, they did talk on a bit. Anyway, here’s your drink, if you still
Dan scrubbed his eyes
wearily with the backs of his hands and glanced at the clock,
starting when he realised it had been nearly an hour and a half since
he’d arrived home. “I must have fallen asleep,” he said. “Your
bed is so comfy.”
Phil pushed the door
shut behind him and set the mug down by the bed, before stretching
out beside Dan, who couldn’t help idly noticing the way his shirt
rode up to expose his stomach. “Yes it is! But it’ll be nice to be
back home again.”
Dan said nothing, but
his mind revelled in the knowledge that Phil thought of home being
with him rather than his parents. He felt Phil’s finger tracing
patterns on his forearm, goosebumps rising, Phil’s lips ghosting
against his skin, whispering, “It’s been so long.”
Dan shivered, but this
time not from the cold, and knowing exactly what Phil meant as Phil
climbed carefully up his body. Phil smelled like coffee and his
hoodie still held the fresh chill of their seaside walk, deliciously
cool against Dan’s shaking fingers. Phil’s lips nudged his, and he
gasped, his eyes flying wide open, feeling suddenly entirely unequal
to meeting Phil’s gaze but incapable of avoiding it. And then Phil
was kissing him, but kissing him properly, a wonderful muddly mess of
lips and teeth and skin and roaming hands that made him feel like his
brain was being slowly pulled apart, every thought disintegrating
except for the simplest of all: Phil.
It felt like the most natural thing in the world to pull him closer,
ever closer, fists clenching in fabric as Phil’s mouth wandered to
his neck, and a soft moan dropped unconsciously from his lips, but
then his sharp hiss of pain made the other pull back instantly, all
arched eyebrows and wide eyed concern. Dan stared up at him, shock
and confusion and vulnerability in his eyes. “Sorry,” he gasped,
trying to catch his breath and finding it stuck in his throat. “It’s
just- my wrist-”
shit sorry,” Phil cut in, smacking his forehead in frustration. “I
completely forgot. Does it- does it hurt now?”
wiggled both his wrists and his legs gingerly. “Not badly if I
don’t move it too much.”
Phil replied, his lips dropping to Dan’s neck once again. “Do you
want to stop?”
moaned again, his jaw clenching. “N- no. Ugh, Phil-”
don’t want to hurt you.”
was taking my mind off it hurting!” All of him ached for Phil’s
body, and he was finding it extremely difficult to think beyond that.
seemed to think for a moment, then his lips were on Dan’s again,
although more carefully this time. Dan ground his hips up into
Phil’s, who groaned in response, craving the friction and ignoring
the pain that shot through his ankle so that Phil wouldn’t stop
again. “Dan,” he
murmured, and Dan rolled his hips again, wanting the noises it drew
from the other man’s lips. He was drowning in it again, his mind
losing coherence, and a much louder moan escaped him when he felt a
hand suddenly on his crotch, palming him through his boxers. Phil’s
other hand came up to cover his mouth, and his eyes bugged wide with
amusement at the memories this brought back of being sixteen and
fearful of parents down the hall.
have to be quiet,” Phil whispered, well aware and slightly worried
of the fact that Dan could and would be extremely loud when the fancy
took him. Dan nodded, eyes heavy-lidded and dark as Phil slithered
down his body and settled between his legs, mouthing wetly over his
boxers and then pulling them down. “Fuck, Phil,” he murmured,
concentrating on the feeling of his mouth on his dick. He felt
himself hit the back of Phil’s throat, heat coiling in his stomach,
hips bucking, and then he looked down and saw Phil’s lips, wet and
swollen red, sucking on him, their eyes meeting, and, “Oh fuck,
Phil, I’m gonna-”
words died on his lips, pleasure shooting through all his veins. He
was distantly aware of Phil’s hand clamping over his mouth again, but
he couldn’t focus, wonderful waves crashing over him again and again
until he almost couldn’t bear it, half-formed words falling from
lips, clenching jaw, grasping fists in tangled sheets.
So idk if your comfortable with this because it can be a touchy subject but could you do one where Josh finds out the reader self harms? I'm feeling kinda down and thought it might help to read something like that.
OK FIRST OFF IF ANYONE IS EVER SAD PLS MESSAGE ME (on my other blog omg i never check this one) AND WE’LL TALK, I LOVE YOU ALL.
trigger warning (self harm etc.)
JOSH DUN IMAGINE- HE FINDS OUT YOU SELF HARM
In a world full of so much pain and suffering, it was always the little things that set you off. Tonight, it was a candle.
You were at a party, one you never wanted to attend in the first place. But Josh had begged, and you were never very good at saying no. He was mingling, the outgoing one of the two of you, constantly smiling and interacting with anyone and everyone.
It was one of those parties with music so loud you had to scream to hear anyone. You watched a tall man with a sharp, gray suit on lean down so that his mouth was ear-level to another man. He cupped his hand around the man’s ear, like he was about to tell a secret, but instead bellowed out directions to the nearest bathroom. You shook your head, wondering why on earth anyone would want to listen to Kayne this loud ever.
There was probably enough booze to intoxicate the entire city, but then again, LA parties were the real deal. These were Josh’s new people. His new life. You knew you should try to be a part of it, but looking around at the company, you couldn’t help but feel extremely out of place. Fancy dresses and glamorous hair seemed to be a consistent trend for the night.
You sat on the edge of the staircase, tapping your foot anxiously and waiting for Josh to come find you again. You hoped he wouldn’t be too long. While you waited, you allowed yourself to take in the full extent of people Josh was spending the majority of his time with now.
Beauty. Elegance. Celebrities. The closest thing Earth had to Gods. You suddenly feel so, so small. Acknowledging everyone around you was a bad idea. So you choose to focus on something a little less personified.
There is a burning candle across the room. You find it odd that there’s an open flame around so much liquor. But you quickly become entranced with the fire. Watching as it whips and flickers with small gusts of wind you pretend to also feel.
You suddenly imagine what it would feel like to run your skin across the flame. You imagine the sharp burning feeling and your stomach settles slightly. You imagine watching your skin go from pink to blistered, the transition always so captivating. You imagine all the tension and anxiety boiling under your skin flooding to the area of injury instead, away from your mind. You knew you had to let it out.
The idea had been planted, and well, there was no going back now.
You didn’t realize how clammy your hands had gotten until you were patting them down on your jeans, standing up from the stairs and looking around for Josh.
He wasn’t in eye sight.
You pushed your way through crowds of people, not really bothering to apologize for stepped on toes.
“Y/N!” someone calls out. You cringe, wanting nothing more than to disappear amongst the people and easily slip outside. But you turn around.
Tyler was making his way towards you.
“Hey, Ty,” you murmur, rubbing the back of your neck. “Listen, I gotta go-“ your mind was too focused on thoughts of razor blades and lighters. You were unable to really focus on speaking. “If you see Josh just tell him I left for me?”
Tyler gives you a puzzled look. But you don’t stick around for an explanation. You turn around and break through the clogged area of people.
You thought you’d breathe easier once you were outside. You were wrong.
Your chest still felt heavy. Heavy with thoughts of being you. You thought about the people back there. The girls in fancy dresses and boys in brand new suits. You cringed at the thought of Josh being exposed to that kind of allure on a daily basis, and then having to come home to you.
You wished you could disappear. Fade into the nothingness that you represented.
Normally you would practice all those coping mechanisms your therapist told you about. Deep breathing. Challenging the negative thoughts. Telling someone. Something like that. Yeah right. There wasn’t a single part of you that wanted to talk yourself out of this. Because what your therapist didn’t know was that this was your coping mechanisms. Your demons ran a lot deeper than cuts.
You carefully unlocked the front door to your apartment. You threw your purse on the counter, stripping off your sweatshirt and leaving it in a heap on the floor. You made your way to the bathroom, immediately flicking on both the fan and the light. The humming noise soothed you.
You’d be smart about it, you thought as you removed the razor blade from your eyeliner sharpener. None of that horizontal lines up the arm shit. That was too obvious. Josh would see. You’d space them out. One or two on the arm. A few on the thighs. The rest on your hips or sides. Areas Josh wouldn’t notice.
You fell to the floor, cradling the piece of metal between your fingertips. You let the thoughts consume you. If you were gonna do this, you might as well go all out.
Worthless. Never going to be good enough. A nobody. You didn’t belong in that world. You didn’t belong in the same room as those people. Josh had become those people. It took you this long to realize. Josh wasn’t the same, Columbus born and raised, kid he used to be. He had fancy suits and knew the names of producers.
You thought of the flame. Flickering and doing all it could. It burned and shined and still went completely unnoticed in a room full of those people.
You brought the metal to your upper arm, pressing and dragging the blade across. You thought you could hear a crack, then you felt the slight tug of your skin tearing. You watched, entranced as blood appeared, small droplets forming in places you might have pressed a little harder. It took a moment for your body to react to the trauma, but eventually your blood started to collect, dripping down your arm. It was so bright, so beautifully contrasting against your pale skin.
It wasn’t enough.
You placed the blade on the same spot and dug in deeper, this time going back and forth once each. More blood flowed, leaving traces on your skin. It reminded you of being little and riding in the backseat of the car while it rained. You remember being so entranced with the raindrops flowing across the glass, leaving streaks in their wake, racing to a place you only wish you knew about.
Your blood was like rain.
You found a new spot and cut again.
It wasn’t enough.
You stuck your tongue out in concentration, your mind had gone a little foggy, but you needed to focus. Your first cut was still bleeding steadily, but it fascinated you, so you tried lining up the razor blade for one more swipe.
You pushed a little harder than intended.
You probably should be worried about the amount of blood rushing from your skin.
But it was too beautiful to be scared.
You finally felt lighter as you watched your pain stream down your arm.
The rest of your senses had dulled. You didn’t hear the front door slam shut. You didn’t hear Josh calling your name, or him knocking.
Your first thought when Josh pushes open the door is that you probably should have thought to lock it. Your second instinct is to cover the blood.
You collect the towel on the floor beside you in a hurry, curling up and trying to make yourself look as small and discrete as possible. You cover the cuts, desperate and ashamed.
You’ll probably never forget the look on Josh’s face.
His eyes are wide, his mouth slightly open. He freezes, taking in the horror flick in front of him before he responds.
He quickly rushes to the closet, pulling out as many towels as he can. He rushes to the sink, wetting a washcloth before kneeling down beside you.
You hear his knees clank as they collide with the tiled floor.
You look up at him, feeling slightly dazed and very confused.
His mouth is moving. But you can’t really understand what he’s saying. The cool water on the washcloth feels nice, until he’s putting pressure on it with his fingers, making it sting.
You blink sharply, sitting up and trying to break away from his grasp.
“Shh,” he’s saying, his voice suddenly coming into focus.
“It’s okay,” Josh is saying. His arm wrapping around your front, pulling you back and he holds you in place.
That’s when the crying starts.
Completely out of nowhere, a sob originating from the darkest, deepest part inside of you erupts. The cry cuts through the air, and suddenly everything hurts. Your stupid cuts, your stomach, your chest. You want to go to that place the raindrops did. You want to go.
“Josh-“ you’re pleading, unsure of what you’re really asking for. You want it to stop.
“Shh, baby, it’s okay,” Josh is crying too. He’s got you cradled in his lap now, like a small child. A small, bloody child. “I’m here,” he’s whispering, rocking with you back and forth.
You’re grabbing at the arm he has barred against your chest, your fingers digging into his skin. His face is next to yours, his chin resting on your shoulder, his cheek pressed against your own. You wished you could feel it, but the pain inside you was all you could focus on.
“I’m here, I’m here, baby,” he’s saying, over and over. The sound of his voice is making you ache more. “I’m right here.”
It takes you a while before you can breathe again. Even then, it’s not proper. It’s all choking sounds and gasping. But you’re not sobbing anymore, so Josh takes that as a sign to help get you to your feet.
You feel dead inside. The pain is replaced with numbness, and honestly, you’re not sure which was worse.
He gently is stepping over bloody towels and leading you to the sink. He unwraps the bloody washcloth from your wrist gently, peeling back parts that had dried on.
You stare at the remnants of your self hatred. Three, deep cuts. Ugly and horrifying. Matching the rest of the decor.
Josh helps you sit on the toilet lid. You look blankly ahead, only vaguely aware of him getting another washcloth from the cabinet.
He kneels in front of you, getting in the way of your vacant stare. Your eyes latch on to him instead, following his movements as he gently starts dabbing at the bits of blood left on your skin. He’s so articulate and gentle, concentrating so hard at the task.
You’re suddenly overcome with an immense amount of guilt.
How could you do this to Josh? How could you put him through all this?
Here he was, again, cleaning up your chaos and destruction.
“I’m sorry,” you croak out. Your voice is a mess of raspy breathes. But it’s comprehendible.
Josh closes his eyes, the washcloth freezing in place.
He’s shaking his head.
You look down, the embarrassment and shame of what you’d done starting to sink in. You wished you could tell what Josh was thinking. But he’s not saying anything. The silence makes you want to disappear.
Finally, “Let’s just get this all cleaned up, yeah?”
His voice is soft. You wish you could decipher it.
Once Josh is done cleaning and bandaging you up, he discards the washcloth in the trash. There was no going back from all those stains. He leads you to the bedroom, gently helping you out of your clothes. He leaves you briefly to get a sweatshirt from his closet.
The moment you slip it on, you feel safe. Maybe you’ll add Josh’s clothes to your list of coping mechanisms for next time.
Josh is peeling back the sheets on your side of the bed. You walk over and he holds the blankets up for you to climb under.
It feels strange having Josh tuck you in. You feel like a child again.
Your eyes are heavy. The events of the evening have completely wiped you out. But you doubt you’ll be sleeping anytime soon.
You lay on your side, the blankets grasped in your fist, tucked so tightly underneath your chin. You’re surprised when the bed dips beside you. You’re even more surprised when Josh scoots over, slinging his arm around your middle and cuddling behind you.
You immediately exhale when he comes in contact with you. You feel so safe wrapped up in his arms.
You hold his arm tightly, part of you wanting to make sure he stays put throughout the night.
Josh must sense your uneasiness because he leans over and presses his soft lips to your cheek. “I’m not going anywhere,” he whispers before fitting his head comfortably behind yours.
You fall into a deep, settled sleep like that. Your breathing finally back to normal.
When you wake the next morning, Josh is no longer fit around you.
You rub your tired eyes, sitting up and giving the room a quick glance.
The happenings of the previous night haunt your mind. The full impact of what you had done hits you and you can’t help it when the tears start to fall again. This time from embarrassment and shame. You had finally let Josh see what a freak you were.
You couldn’t get a handle on it for one second. Couldn’t overcome your corrupt mind. And now Josh knew. You couldn’t think of anything worse.
You curled yourself into a ball, wrapping your arms around your own middle and crying into the pillow. Josh knew.
You felt pathetic. Useless. And stupid, stupid, stupid.
“Hey, hey, hey-“ you hear.
You crack open an eye to see Josh, fully dressed, rushing towards you. He must’ve heard you crying again. You shake your head, burying it in the pillow. You couldn’t look at him. Not after last night.
He climbs in bed next to you, leaning against the headboard and pulling you into his lap again. You were getting tired of this whole, ‘helpless child’ act.
“I thought sleeping would make things better,” he said softly.
You let your head rest back into Josh’s chest, the familiar rise and fall was soothing.
“I’m so sorry, Josh,” was all you could think to say.
“Please,” he said, his voice desperate, “please don’t apologize.”
You shake your head, “I am though,” you sigh, “I’m so sorry, I’m so embarrassed and-“
“Stop,” he cuts you off. “I love you so much. I wish I’d seen- wish I knew how much you were hurting. I didn’t- I didn’t even see it. I wish I could’ve done something, been there-“ he takes a deep breath, “I’m here now, I’m right here. Not going anywhere.”
Josh was blaming himself. Josh thought he could’ve done something. You ache inside. More guilt.
“No Josh, please, you were there. I’m just- I’m- I’m fucked up.”
“Don’t say that,” he murmurs.
“It’s not true, you’re not.”
“I was at that stupid party last night,” you whisper, “so many people, so much to do, and all I could think about was how every single person in that room was better than me in a million different ways. It just-“ you exhale sharply, “I just want to be good enough for you.”
You feel Josh stiffen behind you, clutching you tighter than ever.
“Baby,” he whispers softly, “please- Why would you ever think that?”
“Josh, I’ve never been good enough for anyone in my entire life. Not you. Not my parents. Not my friends. I’m tired. I’m tired of it all. I’m not LA. I don’t fit into that world- I don’t fit into your world.”
“You,” Josh says, pulling back and looking you straight in the eyes. His coffee eyes bore a hole in you. “You’re my world. Not LA, not those fancy parties. It’s you. It’s the Skype dates and the butterflies before my flights about to land. It’s staying in bed all day and getting to hold you while you fall asleep. The rest is just background. It’s just there. But you, you’re my world.”
You let out a desperate sob, burying your face in Josh’s t-shirt.
You’d have to apologize later for the tear streaks.
“I love you, so much,” Josh breathes. “I’m never going to let you forget it again. We’re gonna get through this. I’ll stay home. We’ll get help. It’ll all be okay. I’ll be here. You won’t have to be alone.”
Josh’s words sink in and you slowly nod.
You don’t really believe it all. But you desperately want to. And that, along with Josh holding you so close, was enough for now.
First off, I absolutely adore the simplistic tune. It’s simple bars, nothing fancy, nothing extreme. That really adds to the emotion of it; the more stripped down, the more emotional. You really get to hear Leslie’s gorgeous voice clearly which I love.
The whole song feels like a lullaby, something Hamilton and Burr would sing to their children as they’re falling asleep. The song feels very different from the rest on the album; it’s a reprieve from the turmoil of the war and their internal feuds.
This song feels like the great equaliser between Hamilton and Burr. For the first time, we see them singing peacefully alongside each other and both being incredibly human and vulnerable. They may not agree on much but there is one thing they have in common; their children.
Also can we talk about how softly and gently Lin sings? He’s definitely underrated in this song. I absolutely love the amount of tenderness in which he sings in this song. He sounds amazing with Leslie. Especially their last lines together.
Another thing in the song that’s interesting is the foreshadowing. Their in unison vows to make the world a safe place, to bleed and fight for them, to lay a foundation of the nation…it takes the big themes of the musical and shows how they domestically effected the two separate families.
During the musical, those issues of the government can seem huge and backed by men who just want power. These lyrics show that for some, they simply wanted to build a country for their children and create a future. This song shows Burr’s and Hamilton’s anxieties of their children being the next generation of the still volatile nation, so they wanted to build a strong nation for them.
Alsoooooooo I find this shift in lyrics to be so interesting:
You’ll blow us all away…someday, someday…
I don’t know if this was intentional but I love to think things like that are xD And lastly, this lyric:
You knock me out, I fall apart.}
Which happens to be sung by Hamilton later in the musical. Oh the feels………..
So those are my thoughts on Dear Theodosia! Satisfied is next for me to ramble about. Are there any songs you all want me to do? Feel free to ask!
Prompt:itstotallygayblog Hey ^^ I really love your works. I don’t know, if you did this before, but if not, would you mind to write oneshot ‘bout DeanxReader, when they are working and reader for some reason has to pretend to be a strip dancer for the case, and bros need to search for the monster in club, but Dean can’t keep his eyes off of her, 'cause she’s really hot while dancing and he want her so much, as he never wanted before and it’s really hard to fight this feelings anymore. Thank you :3
A/N: Sorry this took so long to come out. This has a little Dean POV, cause you know, why not? Let me know what you think
It was Sunday, your typical average Sunday at the bunker. These days, the cases we got were clean enough to do in a day or two, nothing other than your usual salt and burn. You’d been working with the Winchester’s for almost five years now, and did the time ever fly by. You met them on a wendigo hunt down in Sioux Falls. The hunt had gone wrong on your part and the boys ended up saving you, and bringing you back with them to patch you up. They asked you the normal questions, and handed you a beer. All said and done, they asked you to join them on hunts instead of being on your own.
On Sundays, you did the boys laundry and cleaned up around the bunker. You would prepare a home cooked breakfast for them and you all sat down at the table and ate together as a family, that’s what they were to you. Sam was one of your closest friends. You both shared the same interest in books, and you both went to Stanford. Though you dropped out after first year, you still wanted to go there to study law, the same as he did. Dean on the other hand was different, you had fallen head over heals for him the instant he picked you up after you were injured on the wendigo hunt. His green eyes and those freckles made your heart melt every time. He was your best friend. You told him everything, and you trusted him with your most personal thoughts. Of course that is all you would ever be to him. He didn’t do the whole relationship thing because he loses everyone. You would never tell him that you loved him, you couldn’t risk ruining your friendship over something you considered to be so stupid.
Hey! Are you just graduating high school or in college and kinda terrified to email your administration? Don’t know HOW to write these emails? Keep Reading! Trust me, we’ve all asked our friends to look over our emails before sending them to our professors.
I no longer work as a server (hallelujah) but I spent 7 soul-sucking years in various restaurants before finding my dream job. This story takes place about a year before I finally quit, and to be honest, this day is when I lost the remaining shred of faith I had in humanity (so now I work with dogs).
So, I’m working in a high end restaurant located inside of an extremely fancy hotel. Our clientele was a 50/50 mix of hotel guests and VERY wealthy locals. On this particular day I got stuck with the hated afternoon shift. None of the servers wanted this shift because you were either totally dead for 3 hours and made zero money, or you were so slammed that guests had to wait 20 minutes for a drink and you still made zero money. However, this day looked promising for me. I had several 2 tops and about an hour and a half before my shift ended a family of 6 walks in. Perfect!
Everything starts pretty normal, I introduce myself and take drink orders. When I return with said drinks, the father starts asking me questions about the local geography which is not out of the ordniary because out of towners always wants to know what the giant letters on the mountains mean (it’s always the first letter of the town name).
After chatting about it for some time (I am incredibly passionate about my home state and love to talk to people about how wonderful it is) I start taking food orders. This family of 6 orders 3 appetizers a starting course of soup or salad each and entrees for all. This is on top of the alcohol they have already consumed. Every time I check back everything is wooooooonderful. Awesome! At this point I’m thrilled because they have about a 300$ tab and seem to be genuinely enjoying their meal.
Before I get to the shit show, I feel it prudent to point out: 1. This is a VERY high end restaurant and 2. All of the prices are clearly listed on the menus.
I drop the check and head into the kitchen to grab another tables food. Before I can make it back into the dining room, the bartender (and my bestfriend to this day) comes hauling ass into the kitchen. He says dad from my 6 top is standing at the bar, beet red and shaking with anger. Rest of the group has already left. I am genuinely confused. I double check on the computer that I hadn’t over rung anything on their check. Nope everything looks good there. So I head out to speak with him. He immediately starts screaming at me. It’s unintelligible blather but I do catch that he’s refusing to pay for his check. I calmly (well mostly, I’ve been told I have an attitude problem) asked him what was wrong. He refuses to answer me and demands to see me manager. Okay fine. My manager and I were also good friends and he always had his servers backs.
I send manager out and proceed to hide around the corner to listen to the conversation. To this day I have trouble wrapping my head around the conversation that unfolded.
Manager: Hello sir, my name is ____, I’m the manager. My employee said that you have a complaint?
Customer: I HAVE A MILLION COMPLAINTS!!! THIS WAS THE WORST MEAL I HAVE EVER EATEN!!!! AND DON’T GET ME STARTED ON THE SERVICE!!!!
(mind you, manager and I quickly went over their entire experience before he headed out to talk to customer)
M: Well could you specifically tell me what was wrong so that we can fix the problem?
C: Well I ordered a French onion soup to come out before my entree.
M: Okay, did you not receive this soup before your entree came out?
C: Well yea I did….
M: So your telling me you ordered soup and then received it in a timely manner?
C: THERE WAS A FUCKING CHEESE ROPE IN MY SOUP!!!!!
There was a long, long pause from my manager. I assume he was composing himself because wtf. In the best customer service voice I have ever heard he calmly asks:
M: Sir, could you please explain to me what a cheese rope is?
C: FUCKING CHEESE ROPE!!!!!!! CHEEEEEESEEEEEEE ROOOPPEEEE!!!!!! YOU’RE GODDAMN COOKS PUT IT IN THERE PURPOSEFULLY!!!!! THEY WERE TRING TO KILL ME!!!!
M: Sir, you do realize that French onion soup is customarily topped with melted cheese right?
C: FUCK YOU! FUCK THE COOKS! FUCK THE SERVER!! I HATE YOU ALL AND I’M CALLING THE HEALTH DEPARTMENT!!!
Guys, I wish I was exaggerating. Seeing a grown ass man throw this kind of tantrum was offputting at best. But it didn’t end here. Manager is not having it anymore and he tells the guy he’ll comp the soup but he needs to pay the rest of the tab and leave. Customer doesn’t take very kindly to this. He (and I shit you not) hocks a loogie onto the check book (you know the black plastic ones used in every restaurant ever) and CHUCKS it in managers face. Dude then turns on his heel and books it out of the restaurant, through the hotel lobby and out into the parking lot never to be seen again.
There was utter silence for a few moments while everyone, guests and employees alike, soaked in what they had just witnessed. My favorite regular tipped 50% that day.
Manager left the restaurant months after this incident and I was right behind him. To this day anytime we get together for drinks we bring up cheese rope guy. I had bad experiences with customers before and after this man, but I’ll be damned if this wasn’t the strangest.
She loves dirty talk but has never told Harry. One day Harry asks about one of her kinks and she mentions dirty talk, so Harry dirty talks her and she orgasms so hard.
Welp, here it is! And it’s exactly what was asked for. You’re welcome/I’m sorry!
If there was one thing that you appreciated about Harry it
was the fact that he was open to trying new things. An adventurous sort, he
often would suggest off-the-wall activities for date night that had you staring
at him for a few moments to make sure that he was serious. A zip line or rock
climbing or swimming with dolphins somewhere. Harry didn’t want your
relationship to become stale in terms of activities; he wasn’t against a
typical dinner and a movie night but he wanted you to be able to experience
some cool things that maybe you wouldn’t have, normally. Harry wasn’t one to
typically flaunt his wealth but he had come to the conclusion that you were
worth spending a little extra on every now and again.
Another place that you knew Harry was adventurous was in
bed. When you first started sleeping together he kept it pretty vanilla,
wanting to make sure you were enjoying yourself and trying to figure out what
you liked so he could remember for later dates. But, after a few months, he
started asking you if you could experiment a bit more. Nothing too crazy, but
certain positions that you may not have thought of before, a toy here or there,
maybe tying you up from time to time.
You were perfectly content with your sex life. Harry kept
things interesting and he never disappointed; he certainly kept you satisfied
and you had no complaints. Plus, he would constantly praise your efforts and
tell you how good you felt or how talented you were with your mouth or your
hands, so you knew you were successfully satisfying him as well.
You didn’t even really think about telling him of your own
little fantasies because it didn’t seem necessary. Plus, any time you really
sat down to think about them, you always felt a bit silly. You trusted Harry
with any and all information – even something as personal and private as sexual
fantasies – but the idea of sitting down and actually saying them all to him
made your heart pound.
One night, about six months into your relationship, you and
Harry were lying in bed with your body snuggled in closely against his. His
fingers were running lazy circles over your arms and his lips were continuously
pressed to the top of your head. You were both currently basking in the
afterglow of making love. It hadn’t been anything too fancy or extreme tonight;
both of you had been a bit sleepy and a bit lazy, so Harry had simply rolled on
top of you and slowly thrust while his head was buried in your neck.
Under the cut, there are 234 positive character traits, 292 neutral character traits and 292 negative character traits. I noticed a few that weren’t categorized where I would have placed them, but I didn’t make the list originally, so please don’t send me asks about that. It’d be super if you’d like/reblog if you found this helpful!
Can you please make Rakuzan headcanons about: (1)their wedding,(2)dealing with their s/o's pregancy? Thank you very much!!
RAKUZAN HEADCANONS // WEDDING [There will be another post on s/o pregnancy since this one got very long.]
The wedding venue is extremely fancy and luxurious. The ceremony is placed within a traditional setting (because the Akashi family, I would imagine, is very traditional). The reception, however, is in an enclosed area in one of the mountains.
Lots of string lights and velvet! It’ll be a fall wedding, so it’s not too hot or cold.
Akashi enjoys the maroon color scheme, so he wears a burgundy suit and his groomsmen wear gray.
Akashi lets you plan the wedding because he’s a gentleman who LOVES to please you even if he can easily afford a wedding planner.
ACTUALLY, every little thing goes through you, and then through Akashi because he enjoys making everything perfect.
Akashi lowkey cried inside his mind when he saw you on your wedding day because he thought you were SO beautiful in your traditional garb.
“I’m so lucky,” he whispered to himself, and Kuroko overheard and sniggered. Then, Akashi turned beet red af.
Wedding would be in a nice hotel banquet room, and everything is SILVER decorated because Mibuchi is all about aesthetics.
He wears a brilliant white suit, with purple accents, and is just overjoyed with happiness that he is getting married.
He goes around to the guests, saying things like “I’m getting married today!” and basically jumping around and twirling.
Mibuchi and you planned the wedding a year in advance and you both were REALLY into the color scheme, but let the wedding planner take care of the little details.
You both picked out a simple white cake with purple roses (because y’all super fancy) and Mibuchi makes the photographer take a TON of pictures of you both in front of it before it gets eaten.
Mibuchi teared up hardcore during the vows, but he calmed himself down during the reception and even did some jokes!!!
This cutie planned a wedding surprise with some bridesmaids and groomsmen and surprised you with a mini-flash mob.
Hayama was super psyched about the honeymoon, rather than the wedding ceremony because he is an impatient child and only wants to have fun, and weddings are always a drag.
You made your ceremony very short and extended the reception (which took place outside in a secluded flower field)
All the signs and name placards were wooden with beautiful calligraphy. When you both were going through wedding magazines, Hayama LOVED the wooden sign aesthetics and that was his ONLY request for the wedding.
Hayama doesn’t really care what he wears and took the wedding not very seriously, until his speech at the reception, in which he got SUPER cheesy and his heartfelt words made you shed a couple tears.
The dancing is the BEST part because Hayama is super hyperactive, but he hired an amazing DJ so everyone had such a fun time dancing.
There were multiple dancing circles, in which Hayama was the center of attention.
Of course, at the end of the night, the music began to slow down and he took you in his arms and just swayed you to the music and everyone was like “Awwwww.”
Nebuya’s family is surprisingly very traditional, so you wore the traditional garb during the ceremony and shed it all off for some eating fun during the reception.
He took care of the menu, while you took care of the aesthetics.
Literally, there are appetizers for EVERYTHING and that’s a good thing because Nebuya’s family has as big of an appetite as he does.
He even bakes his own cookies with you (yes, you guys did this two nights before the wedding because you couldn’t sleep)
You and Nebuya actually have a lot of time on your hands, since you hired a wedding planner to take care of literally everything, so one night you both created cute chalkboard signs for everything.
Nebuya wore a gray suit and he looked SO good in it since he always dresses in athletic wear. BUT when he saw you, he literally fan-boyed so hard and was like “OMG I’m getting married…to that gorgeous person!” and couldn’t get his eyes off you.
Mayuzumi didn’t have a large family and neither did you, so your wedding was in a very secluded art studio, courtesy of your art friends.
Mayuzumi and you hung around a very “hipster” crowd, and they helped you plan your wedding out from A to Z. To compliment Mayuzumi’s silver hair, the aesthetics were mainly white, with floral and nature elements.
Mayuzumi wrote out your vows, since you both were not religious in any way. He made it extremely poetic and portrayed his dedication to you.
He lowkey choked up while writing them, but it took him like TWENTY tries with his best groomsman to practice so he didn’t end up sobbing during the ceremony.
The banquet reception was more a social mingling, with a lot of close family and friends delivering speeches and basically recapping great memories of you both as a couple.
MAYUZUMI DID A POETRY READING. LIKE. HE WROTE A POEM ABOUT YOU AND READ IT AS DEDICATION.
And afterwards, everyone toasted with champagne and you had your traditional first dance as a married couple and your friends gave everyone flower petals and they threw it on you both ;_; /cries in cuteness/