#he can make a can of spaghetti-os last for days

[rat-hand]

Dean can do wonders with a hot plate and a microwave

[stevesbipanic]

It was supposed to be a one time thing.

Steve had always been in charge of feeding the kids, a self appointed position that didn't do anything to stop the mom jokes but Steve liked making sure his kids were happy and fed. He knew what it was like to come home from school and have to fend for yourself in terms of food, he didn't want that for the kids.

He had taught himself to cook and bake as he grew up, quickly getting tired of heating up spaghetti-os or TV dinners. His parents always left the house well stocked with ingredients even though they weren't there so he had to make do.

Steve liked baking things for the kids, he knew everyone's favourite cookie and cupcake flavour and made sure he made them if he heard one of them had had a bad day.

Max had been the one to ask him originally. The high school was having a bake sale and Max's mum wasn't around enough to give her the flyer and Max had asked him if he'd make those caramel brownies that she loves. He agrees as long as she learns to make them with him which she had happily agreed to.

To Steve's suprise his brownies had been a hit at the bake sale. There were a few stink eyes from some of the moms there but mostly there were big smiles and punched cheeks and "aren't you just the sweetest boy" from everyone there. The kids had nagged him for cash for the sale which they mainly used to get his brownies even though he'd told them he made extra at home.

After that, it just became a thing. Whenever there was a bake sale one or more of the kids came to ask him to make something for them, some half baked (excuse the pun) excuse as to why their own parents couldn't do it.

"Mum always burns her cupcakes."

"Dad says he only knows how to grill."

"I swear she put salt in them last time."

"Do you want to give the school food poisoning?"

"Yours are just better." Steve liked that one.

Soon the kids didn't even have to ask him, he had moms putting the flyer in his mailbox. Once he opened it to ten of the bright pink papers shoved in there. It wasn't even just bake sales. The PTA moms had practically adopted him and wanted him at all the school events, sports carnivals, school musicals, pep rallies. Everyone wanted Steve's baked goods.

"I swear you're at the school more than I was in all my senior years, Stevie."

"You're just jealous that the moms love me."

"I've always thought you're sweet, sweetheart."

Steve had even started experiment with his recipes. Robin and Eddie were more than happy to be his guinea pigs.

"Steve if I liked dudes I would marry you to eat this cupcake everyday."

"Fuck you Buckley I'M marrying him AND I'm getting to eat this brownie til I die!"

"You don't need to marry me for me to bake for you two."

"Yeah but then I'd get to brag to all the PTA moms that I have Stevie Harrington's sweet goods and sweet cheeks."

"EDDIE!"

Steve had been struggling with what he wanted to do with his life, he didn't go to college, he worked minimum wage and his parents had practically cut him off. It was at the last bake sale before spring break that one of the moms Steve had gotten close to approached him.

"Steve, honey?"

"Hey Mary, what can I do for ya?"

"Well, you know I'm in real estate and there's this sweet lil storefront down on Maple that recently flooded but it's got good bones just needs a lil love and I'm rambling but I saw it and I knew it would be perfect for you."

"Perfect for what ma'am?"

"For your bakery, hun!"

"Oh ma'am I'm not opening a bakery."

"Why not honey? Everyone loves your sweet treats and with the flooding the place is basically being given away, I didn't wanna sell it til I talked to you first, so what do you say?"

"Can I give you an answer first thing tomorrow."

"Sure hun, but don't wait too long, things like this don't come around often."

Steve had been pacing the apartment by the time Eddie got home from the shop.

"Stevie, baby what's wrong?"

Steve stopped pacing and turned towards his boyfriend.

"If you were really good at something and every said you were really good at something and someone gave you the opportunity to do that thing every day would you do it?"

"Um probably, do what you love and everything right?"

"Mary stopped me today and says there's this store that needs work but could be worth it and I could open my own bakery there Eds, mine, all me doing something for me, but money would be tight for a little while and I don't want to do anything rash and if you think it's not a good id—"

"STEVIE! Sweetheart breathe. Does baking make you happy?" Eddie had put his hands on Steve's shoulders trying to calm him.

Steve nods.

"Then do it baby. Sure money might be tight for a bit, but we have some savings, and I've got my job pretty stable now, so fuck it if it makes you happy of course I want you to do it."

Steve pulled Eddie into a hug whispering a soft thank you.

The following day Steve signed the deed for the shop on Maple St and Eddie and the party and Hopper and Wayne and the girls and everyone helped him him clean out the debris and put up new walls and paint until two weeks later it was finished.

Steve's Sweets was finally open. Robin had been hired to work the coffee to go with Steve's treats and the kids got part time jobs after school and on weekends working the register. Robin and Eddie still helped try out new recipes and soon the whole town knew about Steve's new store.

Steve still baked things for the school's bake sale but now he got to feed his friends and family and the whole town everyday and he was never happier.

[mercy-burning]

Fake Fiancée - Part 3

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Reader and Spencer write letters back and forth, both of them slowly starting to fall in deeper. Category: Smut (18+) Content Warnings: Strong language, sexual themes, masturbation (male and female), sexting, face sitting Word Count: 6.3k

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4

MASTERLIST

NOTE: Hello!! Sorry this has been so long in the making, but for a while my inspiration for this story absolutely disappeared, and then I tried to think of how to bridge the previous chapters to the final one with absolutely no luck. And then I re-read Part 2 and got stuck on the letter, thus this chapter was born! I didn’t want to drag this miniseries out any longer than 4 parts, and the letter format combined with other inner monologuing and description really allowed me to do that in an interesting way that hopefully doesn’t feel rushed! 

It was so much fun and very refreshing to write. I hope you like how it turned out!

Thank you all for being so patient while I get my shit together 😅 Love you guys! Enjoy 🥰

***

We've been sending letters back and forth for about a month now.

If I'm being honest, it took me about two weeks to decide whether or not I actually wanted to send one back, but could you blame me?

Here was this guy I couldn't stop thinking about after a one-night stand, only for him to catch me—months later at the same exact bar we'd met in—flirting with his friend. And then after our sexual encounter that night, all the things we said, the connection I thought we had, all of it...

He left it all behind the next morning, only to send me a letter in the mail.

I was pissed.

Sure, it was a nice letter, but the fact that he'd reduced what we had down to a piece of paper and scribbled ink had made me angrier than I cared to admit.

In retrospect, I may have overreacted.

Over time I started re-reading his words, and the more I thought about it all, the more I started to regret my anger. And more than anything, I just wanted to see him again. I couldn't stay mad at him, not when all I could picture was his pouty face and nervous hands. His sunbeam of a smile peeked through the clouds of my anger here and there, and the longer it settled, the more it bathed me in a warm light that should have made me happy. But all it did was make me long for him.

Once I'd actually started writing that first letter back, I wondered why I hadn't jumped on the opportunity in the first place. I mean, after all the cliché shit we'd experienced in our short relationship thus far, adding love letters to the mix was just as perfect as you could get, right?

Spencer,

I'm sorry it's taken me this long to finally write you back. Truthfully I wasn't sure I wanted to write you at all, but your letter kept drawing me back in. I couldn't stop re-reading it, imagining you sitting down somewhere and contemplating every word as you wrote them down. I wondered if you'd thrown out hundreds of pieces of paper after messing up when you could have just as well typed out a letter without wasting them.

And then by that point, all I could think about was just you.

I always pictured what your living room looks like, or your kitchen table, or your office, or wherever you sit down to write. I wondered if you looked like one of those hopeless writers in the movies that have a scruffy face, coffee stains on their white tee shirts, and messy hair that hasn't been washed in days due to lack of inspiration.

But in the end, the image that won out over all the others was just you as I remember.

I'm not going to lie, that image most of the time was your body above mine while I held my hand to your throat, but for the sake of romance I guess I should probably tell you what it was every other time— the outfit you were wearing the first time we met.

When I think of you, I think of your hand nervously clutching that beer bottle for dear life and the other one occasionally pushing your glasses up your nose. I think of your eyes every time they'd look away from me, probably to keep yourself from staring too long.

But the thing that always gets me the most is your smile— even when it comes in little flashes, after you've said something you probably thought was lame. You covered it up with that perfect smile.

I've dreamt of that smile nearly every night since I met you, and I wouldn't be opposed to seeing it in person again.

I'd love to meet you for dinner some time.

But since you did manage to "more or less abandon me twice now", I think it's only fair that you make it up to me first.

Make the next letter a good one, and we'll see what happens.

Yours, Y/N

P.S. I hope my handwriting is as pretty as you hoped. I'd hate to disappoint.

***

Y/N,

I'm incredibly grateful that you've given me a chance to redeem myself. Every night since I last saw you has also been spent wondering what your house looks like on the inside... What you looked like reading my letter (perhaps at your kitchen table?)

And this might sound silly, but I've also wondered what your bedroom looks like. You may be laughing at me, because I've been in your bedroom, but in my defense I was a bit preoccupied to really take notice of my surroundings— I was simply surrounded by you.

But since I've been to your home, I figured it was only fair that I invite you to mine, possibly for dinner. I don't know how to cook much— in fact I'm pretty awful at making anything that's not a can of Spaghetti-Os... But one of my co-workers is an excellent chef, and with a recipe from him and some practice under my belt, I'm sure I can pull it off.

But by "some" practice, I mean probably weeks or months of practice. So hopefully that gives you ample time to mull it over.

Perhaps in the meantime we can get to know each other through our letters. And who's to say, it might spare us the awkward "getting to know each other" stage of a first date. Though, pretty much every stage of every date is awkward for me, so it might not help at all.

Regardless, I'm very much looking forward to hearing from you again.

I do get called away for work quite often, however. So I apologize in advance if I can't get back to you as soon as I'd like.

But in any instance, you're still welcome to text message or call me. I know it isn't as romantic or personal as handwritten letters, but it's certainly practical.

Yours, Spencer.

P.S. Your handwriting is just as beautiful as I'd imagined it would be. And you could never disappoint me.

That being said, if you somehow decide that this letter wasn't up to your standards and reject my offer, I may just find myself in the deepest despair imaginable.

***

I was definitely way too in my head about this.

It was just a text. Sure, it was a risky text to send, but I had no doubt in my mind that it would be fine in the end.

So why was my stomach churning just thinking about sending it?

Some might have chalked it up to my fat ol' crush on Spencer, but I knew it ran deeper. It had to do at least a little with my history with Patrick... The man stood me up and sent divorce papers to my place of work rather than to my face... And as much as I liked to think I was completely over it, we'd been together for years, and it really did a number on me.

I didn't want to ruin this new thing with Spencer so badly that I was overthinking everything.

So even though I could see his face opening the text, my heart doing jumps at the mere thought of it, a bigger part of me worried that it would be a step too far in the wrong direction. I didn't want him to think I was only in this for... sexual reasons. Which, don't get me wrong, have been pretty damn great so far, but I really did want to get to know him and see where this went.

In the end I decided to hold off. I settled for something a little lighter.

Spencer,

Don't feel too bad about your cooking skills. I've been through my fair share of burnt frozen pizzas to know how you're feeling. So the fact that you've given yourself the opportunity to practice and learn a recipe just for me is extremely romantic, and I appreciate the thought.

I won't stop you from following through, though I'm telling you now that no amount of slaving away in the kitchen will make me change my mind about you. We could probably eat stale crackers on the floor and I'd still find you utterly fascinating.

Maybe that's a bit too extreme, but I hope you get my point.

Anyway, I'd love to come over for dinner some time. Whenever you think you're ready to show me those improved cooking skills, you just let me know and I'll happily make my way over.

In the meantime, I'm thinking of sending more with my letters. I don't want to give away too much, but I will say that I'm very crafty. And don't feel like you need to send anything in return, though I'll let you know if I ever change my mind.

Yours,

Y/N

***

In the bottom right corner of the letter, right next to her signature, was a red lipstick stain in the shape of... well, her lips. It was common sense to know that they were hers and no one else's, not just a stamp or a drawing, and rather her actual lip stain... But even without it, I would have been able to tell by their shape.

Was that pathetic?

I could hear her, picture her in front of me, hovering above me with red-painted lips in the shape of a smirk, visibly cooing as she called me names... I could feel the ghost of her fingertips trailing up my throat and tilting my chin up to look at her as she rocked her hips teasingly into mine...

The whine I let out truly was pathetic.

You pathetic, needy little thing, I could hear her say...

My hands clutched the paper so tightly I thought I'd tear it, but it didn't matter when all I could see while staring at it was her luscious, red lips... Her voice was right there in my ear, like she was really beside me, watching me...

Oh, God, what would she do if she saw me right now? Staring at her lipstick stained paper and subconsciously grinding down into my chair...

You pathetic, needy little thing...

My hips jolted with a small, broken shout of her name, and in no time the front of my pants were flooded with warmth. I felt her eyes burning into me from the void, sparking to life with amusement as her voice crept into the deep corners of my brain and whispered praises to me.

Ohh, what a good little whore... Getting off to the thought of me... That's it, sweet boy... Come for me...

By now my eyes had squeezed shut and the letter was crumpled in my hand, the other reaching down to add much-appreciated burning friction to my crotch as I rode out my orgasm. My whole body tensed and shuddered at every sensation, from Y/N's image behind my eyes to the sweet warmth that pooled in my underwear and soaked through onto my hand.

Holy mother of—

The next time I saw her, I was screwed. I wouldn't be able to keep a straight face. I'd surely go red the second I laid eyes on her, and she'd know right away what I was thinking and feeling.

Simply put, it scared and excited me at the same time.

She'd utterly and thoroughly wrecked me, and if she didn't already know it, she certainly would soon.

Y/N,

I'm not sure what you intend to send in addition to your letters, but if it's anything near the sentiment of your lip stain, then you might have to refrain in favor of my poor, fragile heart.

See, it aches for you. It's bad enough I think of you always, but the moment I saw the shape of your lips on that letter, my heart almost shot straight out of my chest. Maybe it was the familiar shape of your lips or the implications of its place next to your name, signed after the word 'yours', that sent me into a tailspin, but whatever the case...

I'm pretty sure I've completely fallen under your spell.

I suppose I should also tell you that my heart wasn't the only part of my body that came to life at your added signature. I assure you, it took no time at all for me to come undone at the thought of your lips pressing gently against the paper, imagining that they were instead pressing to my skin... I didn't even have to touch myself, really. It just happened. Because of you and you alone.

I hope that wasn't too forward, but I felt it necessary that you know just how much of an effect you have on me.

If I could see you again in a millisecond, it wouldn't be soon enough.

That being said, I am determined to spend as much time as possible to perfect this dish for our dinner. Because you deserve nothing but the best, even if you insist that you could settle for less.

It's the least I can do.

Yours, Spencer.

And a week and a half later, when I didn't get a letter back on time, I was sure I'd messed up for good.

My mind was racing a mile a minute, yelling at myself for even thinking for a second of being that detailed in a letter without any consent. Sure, she'd taken it a step up by signing off her letter with a kiss, but I'd been absolutely idiotic in telling her that I got off to it.

I was honestly well and truly prepared to show up at her house with a big bouquet of flowers and an apology so wordy and probably too long for anyone's liking, in hopes that she'd forgive me for making this huge mistake.

Thankfully, though, it wasn't needed.

My phone chimed as I was pacing, my lip near bloody with how hard I'd been chewing at it, and I saw an unknown number attached to a text message and photo attachment.

The photo wouldn't load (I would have to plug it into my laptop and transfer the image there to see it— a fact which always irked Penelope to the core), but with the sentences I saw above the file, I almost knew exactly what I'd find when I had the means to see it.

There. Now we're even... Who says text messages can't be romantic and personal? XXX, Y/N

I felt like Bambi as I scrambled to my laptop three rooms over, stumbling over weak legs with my phone clutched tightly in my hand. My heart raced faster than it ever had as I started everything up and retrieved the right cord for my phone. With a few shakes and stumbles here and there, I briefly entertained the idea of upgrading my phone.

I probably would have left the apartment to do it immediately after seeing her photo attachment, but the moment it loaded up on my screen, my brain and body lost all ability to function properly.

A familiar burn coursed through the lower half of my body and tightened my chest at the sight of her, open and exposed and... wet.

My laptop screen was completely taken over by the image of Y/N's pussy, visibly glistening and aroused. A manicured hand—her hand— was in frame as well, middle finger resting snugly between the supple skin of her wet lips.

The fact that I only tasted her once felt downright cruel.

I tried to imagine it again— my face buried between the softness of her thighs. As much as I wanted to lay her down and indulge myself as long as possible, taking all the time in the world to slowly devour her and truly explore her for myself, what ran through my mind then was something more in the vein of our dynamic thus far.

My mind wandered, specifically to a place where I was the one laying down as she sat down directly onto my face and gave me what she thought I deserved. My hands were tied to the bed, maybe handcuffed. All I knew was that I couldn't touch her, and it bothered me. So I whined, and every time the sound left my mouth, she would let up, lifting further out of reach and causing me to instinctively reach my head up to chase her.

You greedy little slut... Take what I give you...

Desperately seeking her approval, I told her I'd be good and rejoiced when she lowered herself down to me again, allowing me to me completely wrapped up in her once more. My tongue lapped and lapped, gathering as much of her as I could before she'd inevitably leave again.

But she never did.

Somehow I kept my quiet, even though it was extremely difficult, and ate her out like my life depended on it. She glided smoothly over my face, coating more than just my lips in her arousal, and it thrilled me to my very core.

Every time I breathed in I could smell her, every time she groaned out my name my stomach fluttered, and it wasn't long before she was clutching my hair, shaking above me while I drank her in and repressed my whines.

My hips were uncontrollable though, bucking up into nothing and begging for any type of stimulation.

But then suddenly it was there— Her hand, firmly wrapping around my dick and gliding over it beautifully with a slickness that she must have transferred from her pussy. I could still taste her as I cried out her name, her movements quickening with every second until—

I didn't even realize I was actually alone until my eyes opened, cum coating my hand, my heartbeat heavy and loud, and the laptop screen in front of me a shade darker signaling a long period of inactivity.

I'd done it again...

And now we most certainly were not even.

I glanced over at my phone—plugged into the laptop—and then down at my lap, and my stomach knotted as my next move rang clear as day.

***

I woke up the next morning to texts from Spencer, and my heart picked up speed, a gentle warmth blooming through my chest at the sight.

I thought maybe he'd thank me for the photo I'd sent. Maybe he'd return it with an influx of messages along the lines of Oh my god, Holy fuck I miss you, and the like.

But what I wasn't expecting was to see a photo in return, of his hand that I'd dreamt of nearly nightly, wrapped firmly around his cock and all of it completely covered in cum.

Below the photo were three messages in a row, and each one gave me more butterflies than the last.

Sorry for low quality. No smartphone.

Also sorry we're not even anymore.

But I'm not sorry I did it- you're too perfect to resist.

***

Dearest Y/N,

I'm sorry you haven't gotten a letter from me in a while. And I know we've kept in touch through texting and calling while I was swamped at work, though now that I have some time off, I'd love to write you again. As much as I enjoy our virtual conversations, I still find sending letters to be my preferred method of communication (only second to speaking with you in person, that is).

Which brings me to the main point I'm trying to make.

I want to see you again. In person. I'm not completely confident in my cooking ability yet, but if you wouldn't mind the potential of it tasting awful, I'd love to have you over. I promise you nothing but the best, and I know that's a high promise, especially considering I probably haven't sold you on the meal, but it's true.

I'd do anything to please you.

And I really do mean 'anything', I hope you understand that.

Yours, Spencer.

***

The thought of seeing him in person again after so long made my hands way shakier than I would have liked. It made no sense the longer I thought about it, because it was obvious that we liked each other, and seeing each other in person wouldn't be a problem. Because it'd never been a problem before.

It irked me.

Still, I knocked on his door and physically shook out my hands, praying I could keep my cool when he finally opened the door.

But I should have known better.

One second I was staring at a large plank of wood, and the next I was staring into frantic eyes, golden and sparkling just as I remembered, but with an added glimmer of fear that matched the shakiness of my hands.

I don't know how long we stood there, just staring at each other, but the longer we did, the more we relaxed. His fear was gone, and the shaking in my hands turned into a dull hum that longed to reach out for him.

Still, I refrained, settling on a simple, "Hey, pen pal..."

By the way he looked at me, silent as ever, I started to wonder if that was a stupid thing to lead with. So I opened my mouth to apologize, to say anything else, but he beat me to it.

"Y/N... I... H—Hi, you look... incredible."

"O—Oh, thanks... Thank you, yeah, I um... figured I should... dress up a little. I know we're not going out anywhere, but I thought it might be nice."

He doesn't need to know that, Y/N, stop talking!

I gave him a small smile and a nervous laugh in an attempt to stop myself, hating how I was so nervous around him.

Spencer didn't seem to mind, though. He let me in and closed the door behind me as I quickly glanced around his apartment. It was littered with greens and browns, books everywhere, and I'd never felt more at home.

"Is it, uh... What you expected?"

"Hmm?" I turned to meet him, his soft voice pulling me from my wandering eyes.

"My apartment."

"Oh! Yeah, it's very you... I love it."

The compliment had his cheeks turning pink, and there was nothing I wanted to do more than kiss them over and over again.

And just like that, once again we were caught just staring at each other. I didn't know what he was thinking, and honestly, I didn't know what I was thinking either. All I knew in that moment was that Spencer Reid was standing right in front of me, close enough to touch, and I wanted to give in.

I was so wrapped up in the idea of feeling him that I almost didn't hear him speak. I wouldn't have heard him at all had it not been for his lips moving.

"I'm sorry, I haven't started dinner yet..."

"That's okay," I reassured. Or, at least I tried to. Really, though, I think it sounded more like I was uninterested in what he was saying, my voice flat and lifeless as I continued to stare at him.

Suddenly we were closer, and I had to look up higher to see his face, butterflies swarming in my stomach at the way he looked down at me.

"You're sure?"

"Mhm."

"I can start it now if you're getting hungry."

Food isn't what I'm hungry for, is what I thought. I almost said it, too, because he was even closer now, his hands coming out to touch mine. If they were humming before, they were certainly blaring with life now, growing hot under his light touch. And it took everything I had not to look down, because it had been too damn long since I'd seen his hands in person, and I wanted them on me immediately.

He could tell, too. He could sense my urgency, feel the longing radiating off my presence, and I knew this because I could feel his, too. His eyes practically dared me to say what I was thinking, and so I did.

"Don't you dare."

It was hard to tell who moved in first, but it really didn't matter.

I was here, in his apartment, feeling his lips glide over mine with reckless abandon, and that's all that mattered.

His hands gripped my waist so tightly I would have thought he was trying to hold me in place, to make sure I wasn't ever going to leave his sight again. And if that was the case, I would have let him hold me there forever.

My hands, meanwhile, clutched at his hair, forcing myself closer and closer to him with every sharp tug. I reveled in the way he whined into my mouth with every little thing I did, whether it was a tug of the hair or a roll forward of the hips, or even a swipe of my tongue over his.

He was putty in my hands yet again, and just like every time before, it turned me into a fucking goner.

Being with Spencer wasn't like anything I'd ever known. And the only other thing I'd known was Patrick. He didn't want me, not really, and even though he was good to me in the beginning, it was never like this.

I didn't come over to his apartment with shaking hands. I didn't send him fucking love letters almost weekly, and I certainly didn't get kissed like this...

Spencer was drunk on me, and I wasn't any sober myself.

"That picture you sent me..." I mumbled over his lips, still keeping myself as close as I could while I got out what I needed to say. "Where did you take that?"

We kissed for a few more seconds, unable to stay apart, before he answered, his voice just as breathy and brimming with desperation as mine. "My office. Just down the hall."

I kissed him again, hard, and then pulled back to look him in the eyes. They widened when I said, "Show me."

He dragged me through the apartment on rushed legs, and I almost laughed at the urgency, only stopped by the realization that I was just as urgent. It occurred to me that perhaps my laughing at his urgency might just be a slight turn on for him, given our history with my playful degradation, but still I pulled back— Tonight felt... different.

It didn't feel like we were headed in the direction of me calling him my dirty little whore throughout the night, and it was something I was more than okay with. In fact, I welcomed it, excited to see where this new night would take us.

We ended up in his office, which remained more or less the same aesthetic as the rest of his place. In the middle sat a small desk with a laptop and some papers scattered about on it, accompanied by a tall floor lamp and a rolling desk chair.

"Where were you exactly?" I mused, gripping his hand tightly and buzzing at the way his fingers flexed against my own.

"In the chair... I pulled the photo up on my laptop."

"Right. No smartphone."

Spencer hummed in confirmation before dragging me along to the chair, and I fucking giggled as he plopped down and practically pulled me right on top of him, the chair rolling back a foot or two. I went down for a bright, messy kiss that ended with his hands clutching my ass over my skirt and my own cradling his face.

His growing bulge nudged right up into my inner thigh, and I groaned lightly in his mouth, my fingers dragging softly down his jaw and neck until I reached his shoulders.

"What were you thinking about?"

He raised his eyebrow, and I rocked my hips forward with a sly grin, hoping to get my point across. "When you were looking at my picture, in this very chair, what were you thinking about?"

Seeing his eyelids stutter and his tongue dart out at my movements sent a rush through me, and I moved my hips once more to emphasize my urgency.

"I... I thought about you... riding my face. You tied my hands..."

"Oh?" I sighed, rocking forward again and humming into his neck. "Well, that can definitely be arranged if you want it bad enough..."

"Please, Y/N, yes... Please..."

The need dripping from every syllable made it near impossible to breathe, and I was suddenly very inclined to give him everything he wanted. With or without the begging.

So I reluctantly peeled away from him and stood up on weak legs. Staring at Spencer as he sat there, leaning back in the chair with disheveled hair and obvious desire in his eyes, made it all the better when I took my panties off from under my skirt and motioned for him to come forward. "On your knees?"

I would have demanded it in any other situation, but I was feeling a bit more sweet this time around.

And he seemed grateful for it, sliding the chair back further and getting down in front of me. I reached out and played with his hair, trying my hardest to commit his beautiful face to memory. I wanted it burned there for the rest of time.

"Hands?"

Spencer offered his hands to me, and I hummed happily, doing my best to tie his hands together with a makeshift knot from my panties. It wasn't really tight or secure, but it was enough for him to whine as he set them in his lap.

He watched intently as I dropped my skirt—a bit redundant now, but I thought it'd be a nice way to get him more excited. Plus I wanted to see his face (or at lease what I could see of it while it was buried between my legs).

I stepped forward then, looking down at him with a smile while my hands reached out to comb through his hair. "You ready?"

"Uh huh."

The look in his eyes right before I came forward and hovered over his face almost made my come on the spot.

But as fun as that would have been, I was glad for the way my body held off and settled for a beautiful, burning increase of pleasure that dragged out the longer he swiped his tongue through my folds. Actually, I forgot for a moment that I was supposed to be moving, riding his face like he'd thought about.

I willed my eyes open and clutched Spencer's soft locks of hair beneath me, gently rolling my hips and grinding down further on his face.  The groan he let out not only felt good against my skin, but it sounded like pure bliss, eliciting a small whimper of my own as I tightened my grip in his hair and rocked faster.

"God, I missed having your mouth on me, baby... You're... so good..."

The longer I spoke the more breathless I became, not because the words didn't come easily, but because I truly believed them to be true.

Spencer really was so fucking good, his tongue the most delicate, divine object of the universe as it drew out every ounce of delight from my body. I may have been the one above him, calling the shots and directing him where and how to please me, but he was the one who clung to my soul like static and politely guided me towards damnation.

I wasn't even sure of my surroundings to tell you the truth. As my body tensed and took me through one of the most blinding pleasures I'd experienced in weeks, My eyes were squeezed so tightly it's like I saw the universe. All I knew was Spencer's lips sucking my clit and my hands deeply rooted in his hair as I shouted incoherently, stars swirling around behind my eyelids.

Truly, for all I knew, we could have been in space. It wouldn't have made any difference.

But eventually it came to be too much. I was reaching a limit I didn't want to get to so quickly, and so I flashed my eyes open and tried to adjust to this brand new atmosphere, unweaving my fingers through pretty brown waves of hair and stepping back to assess the situation.

What I found was the most beautiful man I'd ever known, panting like he'd just ran a marathon and yet harboring the most intense joy and desire a person could hold. He was on his knees, bound hands writhing in his lap as he awaited further instruction and licked up as much of myself on his face as he could before I stopped him.

Under normal circumstances, I would have wanted to absolutely ruin him. That adoring, desperate look in his eye would have spurred me to more devious endeavors, but all I wanted in this moment was to make sure he was satisfied. I wanted to take care of him, to let him know that I longed to make him feel as worshipped and adored as he'd made me feel.

I got down to Spencer's level, quickly removing the fabric from his wrists and hauling him to his feet, where he now towered over me, still waiting for words to address and instruct him.

Instead, I leaned up with soft hands upon his cheeks and pulled him down to meet my lips in a kiss that changed the tone entirely. It was erotic still, of course, what with my arousal infiltrating my taste buds and eliciting a soft sigh from the both of us, but our urgency manifested in sweeter ways... Softer lips, gentle touches of the face, and an exchanging of breath that was so smooth and seamless it felt like we were floating on air.

I was finding it hard to breathe again, but it wasn't an issue in the slightest. In fact, there was nowhere else I'd rather have been than right there, kissing Spencer Reid like we had all the time in the world.

When the breathlessness was a little too much to bear, we pulled away, though only leaving just enough space to breathe. Our lips stayed briefly connected while we caught up, and his hands found their way to the sides of my face. The way they practically engulfed my whole head brought a brief smile to my lips as I finally gave him the words he was looking for.

"I'm so glad I met you," I whispered.

"Funny, I was just thinking the same thing."

We kissed each other again, naturally and with so much ease that I wondered how I had ever lived without him.

And then, as my hands slid gently down his chest, I felt it.

Something that felt very much like a ring attached to a necklace sat right where his heartbeat resided, and I knew exactly which ring it was.

"W—" I pulled back and circled the shape of it with my finger through the shirt, then looked up at him. "Is that what I think it is?"

Spencer looked briefly panicked, pulling away a little and fishing down the front of his shirt for the chain. "Oh... Um, yeah. I, um... I forgot to take it off, I'm sorry. I..."

"You... kept it?"

I observed the diamond as it laid flat on my palm, still attached to the chain and around his neck. Honestly, after all this time I figured he'd never found it or gotten rid of it, seeing as he never brought it up. And yet there it was, glittering in the palm of my hand as my other one presses firmly against Spencer's rapidly beating heart.

"Y—Yeah... It um... It was really the only physical thing I had to remember you—Well, at least until we started sending letters... And I guess I just... W—Wearing it has become such a habit that I forgot to take it off."

"You never take it off?"

I could tell he was nervous, and rightfully so given I wasn't really letting on how I was feeling about the whole thing.

Still, he answered my short question in such a small whisper I'd have thought he was trying not to get in trouble.

"No."

"Why?"

My words certainly weren't helping ease his anxieties, so I remained close, dropping the ring and focusing rather on his eyes. I softened the look in my own and glided my hands down to hold his. His fingers flexed against mine, squeezing them for dear life as he sighed out in relief and flashed me a soft smile.

"Because... I wanted you close to my heart."

With a smile that mirrored his eyes, full of enchantment and pure adoration for the person in front of me, I didn't use my brain and instead focused on what my heart was telling me, consequences be damned.

"I think I might love you..."

Spencer squeezed my hands tighter, that relief spreading out to all his features and brightening that beautiful smile.

"Funny... I was just thinking the same thing."

Our lips met once more, and I swear it was like nothing bad was ever going to happen for the rest of time.

I'd never felt that way. Not once with Patrick did my heart feel settled into place, even during the great parts of our relationship.

And now here I was, with a man who sent me love letters and kept every physical reminder of my existence, who kissed me like I was the most precious thing in the world and slowly mended my wounded heart.

He held me close the whole way to his bedroom and never let me go until the morning. Though, even then his arms outstretched towards me and his fingers flexed, needing to grab onto any part of me that he could find.

And as I was sure I always would, I welcomed him with open arms.

***

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[foreverslavicwriting]

The City is Different at Night 1/?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: none in this part

Summary; Y/N is a high-end bodyguard who meets Bucky at much deserved night out. They bond over sweet cocktails and deep late night conversations. None of them wants to admit that their casual relationship is not so casual anymore.

Tags: multi-part series, x reader fanfiction

Spicy parts coming soon!🖤

Y/N went to a supermarket today. It was full of back-to-school crap. Y/N envied all those kids who were excited about coming back.

„Spaghetti sauce, toast bread, deodorant, and an eyeliner, okay that should be it, Y/N mumbled to herself while slowly walking to the cash register. She was going out tonight. It was a well-deserved break from all the shit she had to deal with those last few weeks.

Y/N paid for her small purchase and headed home. The sun was just starting to set. The convenience store was just about two streets from her apartment. She looked around herself and assessed the situation. Mundane as you could imagine. But it was a force of habit. A terrible one, worse than smoking. The day people were retreating to their cozy homes meanwhile the night residents were just starting to wake up. She choose to be a girl of the night tonight.

Y/N climbed five sets of stairs to her apartment while cursing the historical committee that ruled against putting an elevator in her building. Her calves hurt like crap and her arms were full of colourful bruises. One would think that they would pay me more for saving the governor, she thought for herself angrily. Her job for the last few days was to make sure this piece of shit statesman won't get hurt, but they were times when she wanted to punch him herself. The month before it was protecting a few crown witnesses from a drug cartel. That wasn't quite so bad. The mother was a great cook. This job wasn't really that bad, Y/N just liked to complain. Mostly to herself or her plants.

She unlocked all three locks to her home and disabled the silent security alarm and put her grocery on the counter. Her plans for tonight were to wear a pretty sparkly dress and drink as many sweet drinks at Inferno as she can. She turned on the electric kettle and threw a bag of green tea into one of her favourite mugs. She took a shower and changed into something more suitable for a dance club. She drank her tea while putting on her makeup. Smokey eye, cat eyeliner, and black lipstick. Y/N felt more like herself again.

She finished drinking her tea, checked her lipstick, and took a moment to admire the glittery sequins on her dress. Y/N might be a high-end bodyguard but she still likes to feel like a star of the show. She was ready for a night out.

_________________________________________________

The club was loud. Little too much for her taste but hey, the cocktails are good. She was sitting at the bar, slowly tapping her fingertips to the beat of the music and looking at the various people on the dancefloor.

„Can I buy you a drink?" she heard a huffy voice behind her. Y/N almost couldn't hear him because of the loud music. She slowly turned around. The voice in question belonged to a tall man with dark eyes, short hair. He is built like a Greek god! she thought to herself. She knows him. From TV, newspaper, social media…everything. One is afraid os opening the fridge at night in fear of an avenger staring back at them.

Y/N raised her hand with an almost empty glass of Mojito. „I am currently having one," Y/N smiled, „are you trying to get me drunk, sir? That doesn't seem very avenger-ly from you."

„You don't look like you came to a bar to drink water," he shrugged, „and it's Bucky."

She shook his hand „I know who you are. And you are right, Bucky, sir, I didn't. The name's Y/N by the way."

He gestured to a bartender and Y/N noticed his mechanical silver arm. I wonder how it would feel on my skin, Y/N thought to herself. Stop it! She immediately corrected herself. It was like a fight between an angel and a devil on her shoulder. Y/N wasn't sure who to cheer for.

She took out the metal straw and quickly finished her drink in one sip. He looked amused. „So another Mojito?" he asked her.

„Not sure. I am in the mood for something more…fun," she said and pondered for a few seconds.

„Don't look at me, the biggest drink adventure for me is flavored beer."

„Really? Well, let's fix it then!" Y/N quickly glanced a the menu and said. „One Cosmopolitan for me and Aperol Spritz for the gentleman here."

„Coming right up!" said the bartender with an accent Y/N didn´t recognize.

„Why do they even call you Bucky? I mean James is such a better-sounding name in my opinion," Y/N asked.

„It's just an old nickname. Not much backstory really. Didn´t you have a nickname as a kid? Mine just stuck," he answered.

„I have been called a „fucking bitch" or „annoying asshole" but I don´t think that's something I would like to keep. Event ho the second one sounds could be a tragicomical hero name."

„And what would your superpower be? You would annoy your enemies to death?" he laughed.

„Hey! I think it would be effective," Y/N defended herself.

„Yeh, I am more of punch in a gut kind of guy."

„At least you're consistent," she nodded.

The bartender set two drinks in front of them. Orange-red Aperol for Bucky and pink Cosmopolitan for Y/N.

„I gotta agree with you, this does look more fun," he analyzed his drink closely.

„Cheers!" exclaimed Y/N.

He took a sip while Y/N studied his face. Yes, that's it, I am cheering for the devil, she thought.

„Little sweet, little bitter, I think I like it," he said.

„See! Told you!" Y/N gestured for the Exit, „wanna take this outside? I need a smoke anyway."

„Sure.

_________________________________________________

The night was a little cold. It was the beginning of Autumn after all. Y/N didn't

mind and Bucky was used to being cold anyway. Y/N chuckled slightly at that thought.

„You know I always preferred the night. The whole town changes, even the people seem…different. It's like a magical filter has been lifted and you suddenly see all the ugly and all the beautiful," she said looking at the neon lights of New York City.

„You sure you are not a poet?" he asked while following her starstruck gaze.

Y/N pulled out an electronic cigarette from her purse and took a deep breath full of smoke smelling like blueberries. „Far from it actually," Y/N she answered. Her mood tends to change quickly. Sometimes too quickly for her taste. The cold fresh seemed to win a battle between her mind and the overpriced cocktails she just had.

„I used to love taking a long walk around midnight. You know a few decades ago," he chuckled.

„Why don't you anymore?" Y/N asked.

„I don't know the world is too noisy, too different. I don't normály like to admit it but it scares the shit out of me sometimes," he looked at the sky and then bac kat Y/N.

„I get that. The world is a weird place these times," she took a long puff and finished her drink in a quick sip. For the second time tonight. Y/N really wasn't able to slowly enjoy her liquor.

He just nodded.

Y/N put an empty glass on the ground and looked into Bucky's blue eyes.

„Wanna get out of here?"

[dippydots]

Woods

(✨Update on the kiddos :)✨)

"Here we go gathering nuts in May, nuts in May, nuts in May! Here we go gathering nuts in May on a frosty morning!" Edmund sang aloud as he pulled the red wagon full of supplies. "It's June," Edith said tiredly. "Oh yeah May's next month." Edith didn't even try to correct him on that. It would just lead to another one and begin an endless loop. It was their first day on this journey, a rather stupid one in Edith's opinion. They got up at around six and then climbed out the window a few minutes later. She assumed that they would be back by the afternoon or evening, Edmund would most likely get tired of walking by then, and Maisie would probably be ready to go home. "Where are we going, again?" Maisie asked, a chipper look on her face. "I think the better question is 'why are we going?'" Edith said, smiling a little bit. Edmund scoffed. "You were there when Uncle Victor swung by, Edith." That was true.

Last week Victor was babysitting the twins, and the conversation eventually came around to Victor's childhood. "I had two brothers and one sister, very interesting bunch, we often got into a lot of trouble every now and then." Edmund had asked, "Where are they now?" Victor's smile faltered. "Well, truthfully I haven't talked to my family in ages. Elizabeth, she's got an art studio somewhere with her partner Justine, and little William, hmm how old would William be now?" He counted on his fingers. A look of shock and a mix of horror appeared on his face. "Oh my God he's 23 now!" Edith furrowed her eyebrows. "I thought you were 23," she said. "Oh, I wish I was 23."

"Wait what about your other brother? Where's he at?" Edmund asked. Victor blinked a few times. "I'm not sure where Ernest is. We never were that close, he was always sick in bed. Elizabeth usually keeps me updated on family events, but she's never mentioned anything about Ernest." After an awkward moment of silence, Victor had changed the subject to making spaghetti-os for the twins. For some reason, Edmund was hooked on what Victor had said. What happened to Ernest? Where was he? Victor hardly smiled, would seeing his brother make him happy? Seeing Edward made Edmund happy, so the same would apply to Victor, right? That's what he thought, at least. Eventually, he made plans, and decided that he was going to find Ernest for Victor. He had invited Edith to come with him to the treehouse to discuss his plans. "You're joking, right?" she had asked. "Nope " he said, "I'm completely serious." He held up an upside-down map. "If we cut through the forest, there's a village on the other side. Then we can start asking if anyone's heard of Ernest Fronkenstein."

"Frankenstein."

"That's what I said. Anyways, we go through the village, and surely we'll find someone who knows. I've already asked May to come with me, so that just leaves you!" Edith raised an eyebrow. "I'm surprised you didn't ask Anaïs to come with you."

"She falls asleep too much, and I don't want to bring too many people, you know?"

"Do Mum and Papa know?" she asked. Surely, he told them. "We'll be back before they even notice! It shouldn't take too long, Cherry!" Edith did agree afterwards. This wouldn't take too long, right? Their parents would be fine, right? Edith didn't really know. But she did hope that they'd go home soon.

[enigma-im]

More Than Just a Line of Code Pt. 2

Rating: Explicit Relationship: Robot X Female!Human Warning: fluff, sexual content, penetration, fingering, handjobs, robot and human relationship, love sonnets

Word Count:3922

Part 1

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

The next couple of days felt nice, domestic even. Though nothing really changed it felt like everything did. I began seeing Daniel as more than a house robot. More than just some machine with an advanced A.I. He was like, dare I say, a boyfriend. We did things like normal, nothing different. It just a lot more touching. Whenever we passed each other he made sure to touch in some way. Either pressing the small of my back or my hips. Daniel also gave 'kisses' whenever he was near for a long while. Pressing his screen on my head or cheek. Each time it made me a gushy mess. I have never been a gushy mess a day in my life.

Today I was working on some freelance work. Daniel was wondering around somewhere. He knows I don’t like being bothered while working, it was my only rule. I'm not sure what he does while I'm working but I doubt it’s any trouble. I could faintly hear the tv, guess that answers it.

A few hours later, long after the sun had fallen, I hear a knock at my door.

"Romeo, oh Romeo. Where art thou Romeo," I shout.

The door opens to reveal Daniel, "I feel that should be my line. Specially with a last name like yours."

"Oh shut up, heard that all through my lit course," I roll my eyes. Daniel walks in holding a bowl, he sets it down on the desk. Stepping around behind me he drops his hands onto my shoulders.

"From this world-wearied flesh. Eyes look your last! Arms take your last embrace! and, lips, O you," He quotes as he leans down," The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss". He pressed his screen to my cheek. I chuckle as I reach up and pet his head. I turn a give him a quick peck.

"You had to pick the death scene, how romantic of you," I laugh.

"I'm not too fond of that play, excuse me for not being well informed on another part," He rest his head on mine.

"I mean I won’t argue to some sonnets," I answer as I type away.

Daniel moves his head to the crook of my neck," Then shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate." I laugh aloud, tilting my head back to his shoulder.

"Shut up you dork," I push his head off me.

"Alright, I'm not here to declare my undying love for you. I'm here to make sure you eat," He steps away from my back. His teasing tone was welcomed after being hunched over a keyboard for hours. Daniel has taken to teasing since we watched a rom com (His request) during movie night. I never take anything he says too seriously.

"I ate five hours ago, I'm fine," I lie. I’m nearly done with my work, perhaps another hour or two.

He, of course, sees right through me," you ate this morning and if I'm correct, which I always am, that was around ten hours ago. So now is a perfect time to eat." He pushes the bowl closer to my hand. I glance down at it and see its spaghetti-os.

"Give me one hour, I'm almost done," I answer lazily.

"Nope, I've heard this one before. I don’t know why it matters; you are going to take five seconds to eat this anyway. Just put my weary heart to rest and eat the food I slaved over the microwave to make," He pouts.

I snort," Slaved away?"

He drops the pout, "Work with me doll, I'm against a mule right now."

"I thought I was a summer's day," I smirk.

"Of course you are, the most beautiful of summers day. The divine intervention in my short life," He leans on the desk. He admires me for a moment as I continue working.

"Divine intervention? Where did you learn that one," I ask. He doesn’t answer so I pass him a glance. He was just staring with those artificial eyes. "What," I ask. He steps away from the desk.

"may I have a kiss," he drops to his knees beside my chair.

"Why do you need a kiss," I lean on the arm of the chair.

"It’s been a while since you have given me a proper kiss," he answers. It was a lie, I kissed him this morning. He is just a greedy bot.

I huff but smile. I grab a hold of his head and tilt it towards me. His eye flicker between my eyes. Despite not having a wide range of emotions, he manages express admiration and care. Looked at peace in my hands. Such a lovable dork. I leaned down and notice briefly that he closed his eyes. I press my lips to where his would be. The whirling starts up in his chest like it does every time. I asked before and he said it was his fans.

I leaned back and Daniel grabs my forearms, his eyes still closed. I lean back down and rest my head against his. His fans get louder.

"you have changed a lot since you been here," I mumble. He just hums to my statement. I press another kiss to his lips, this one lazy but wet. "I guess I have changed too."

Daniel opens his eyes slowly. Looking up at me he gives that pure look again.

"May I touch you," he asks.

I look at him confused," you are touching me.". He shakes his head and one hand grabs the chair. He twists it so he is between my legs. Keeping one arm on my forearm he moves the other to my knee. Staring up at me he slowly slides his hand up my thigh. Where he touches it begins to tingle till, he stops inches from my belt.

"May I touch you," he repeats.

"y-yes," I stutter. Daniel smiles then focuses on my legs. Letting go of my arm he lets both his hands drag up to my hips. Burying his fingers under me he jerks me forward. I spread my legs wider, so I didn’t bunt him. He slides his hands back around till his thumbs are next to my crotch. I stare down at his face, not spoiling the surprise by looking at his hands.

Daniel traces the seam on my PJs. The lose fabric making it easier to feel his finger. I suck in a breath at the initial shock. He looks up for at the sound before looking back down. Pressing a little harder he strokes back and forth over me. He gauges my reactions and when he found the spot that made me gasp, he stops. Easing off for a second then pressing back in. I couldn’t stop from jerking forward.

"you know I researched this," He chuckles. He rubs circles in that special area. I relax into his touch, allowing myself to take the break I need from work. This was nice, especially coming from him.

I almost forgot what he said, "nerd." he shook his head with a smile. He glanced up briefly and his smile grew wider. He stops his prodding and hooks a finger into the waist of my pants. Looking up again he pauses.

"Well it isn't going to come off on their own," I joke.

"Always with the jokes," he smiles. I lift up off the chair and he pulls my clothes down. He slides them down past my knees till they bunch at my ankles. Delicately he removes each foot till its removed. Placing his hands on my knees he pushes them aside and rest between them again. "What a sight," He stares at my fur covered cunt," I'm glad I can save images, going to treasure this one."

"You save images," I squeak. I try to close my legs, but they just pinch his sides. He chuckles as he rubs my thighs, coaxing me to relax again.

"I have a few actually, all subject around you," he glances up. It shocks me that he can make a devious look, and make it look so damn sexy.

"You are a menace," I chide as I drop my head back. I hear him laugh but it ignored when he prods his finger to my folds. My legs jump at the sudden contact, which leads him to chuckle again.

"Relax, I have you," he soothes. I feel his index tease my fur near my seam. I huff but relax. I can relax, sure it’s been a while, but I can relax. He uses his thumb to spread me open. The cold air is a little shock to my cunt, adding a small bit of pleasure. I hear a camera click noise and look down at him. I sigh. How can I relax with a flirty bastard between my legs taking memories into his hard drive.

"Another picture," I ask. I feel the urge to close my legs, to not draw attention to myself. Yet I know he won’t let me.

"so far my most prized one," he smirks. He looks from my crotch to me. His look makes my breath wobble out. He will never stop surprising me with his looks. As we hold contact, he rubs his finger over my clit. I jerk my hips again at the surprise contact.

"Not wet yet," he asks as he looks down. I try to sit up, but he holds my thigh.

"Why would I, you haven't done much," I defend.

"I believe porn has lied to me once again," He laughs.

"You watched porn," I ask surprised.

He cocks his head as he continues petting," I didn’t want to disappoint." His face was less seductive and more insecure. This was a better look for him, if not equally attractive.

"I think that’s impossible to do, I heard you vibrate," I joke. He loses the insecure look and blushes instead. He doesn’t answer me and looks back down. His face becomes concentrated as he flicks the growing nub.

My breath increases and he notices I'm starting to get wet. He loses focus on my now engorged clit to look at the glimmering slick that's sliding out. First, he explores the slick, getting it all over his fingertip. He stretches it between his thumb and forefinger. It stays connected for a short moment before breaking. His fascination grows as he pokes more. He slides just his fingertip inside me for a short moment then drags back out.

"This makes me wish I had a mouth," he mumbles to himself. I huff, deciding not to comment on it as he pressed his whole finger inside. My stomach twitches and tightens at the welcome intrusions. When he removes it, he curls his finger, so it drags across the roof of my tunnel. I suck in a breath but don’t give him a reaction he expected. He glances up at my hooded eyes. He repeats his action but with two fingers. this gets more to a reaction he was looking for. My eyelid flicker and my mouth open with a soft gasp.

With a little exploring he finds the best way to glide his fingers. He curls both, the tips slide down along my nerves. I relax with the touch. Hot licks of pleasure caress my insides. Insertion alone isn't enough to make my toes curl. Well, unless it’s a bigger body part being inserted. As he finds a rhythm I reach down and rub my pearl.

"No," he scolds as he removes my hand. I huff but forget it when he works his thumb around instead. He keeps a firm press as he circles. This pumps up the pleasure. I have a harder time controlling my hips and find my head lolling to the side. My breath increases, my heart thumps against my ribs, and I can’t help but mumble. He listens to my ramblings of praises as he curls and pets.

"You ready," he smirks. I look down at him confused. He chuckles before I feel him stop his curling fingers. Before I could ask his digits began vibrating at a very high speed. My legs curl up to the point that one of them rest on the chair. My held hits heavy against the back of the chair and I grip the arms with pleasured fury. I can barely hear his laughter after the rushing in my ears. I'm close.

"F-fuck, Da-Daniel," I barely get out. The sensation taking away my words.

"Yes, doll," he asks in his all too cocky voice. I grind my hips into his hands, having new leverage with my leg on the chair.

"I-Im, fuck, I’m g-goin," I stutter.

"Come? Please do," he finishes for me. I feel the toe-curling pleasure build to a blinding pulse. I clench my jaw and grip the chair with my toes. I throw my leg over his shoulder and squash him into the seat. I let out a cry or a whimper, I couldn’t tell at this point.

As I come down, I have to kick him away from me. Not being able to speak. The vibrations were too much now, it felt too good. He removes his fingers as well as stopping the buzzing. I relax into the seat with the biggest smile on my face. I look down at Daniel who is watching me with rapt attention. I reach one hand out and coax him forward. He sits up on his knees and pulls me from the chair. He leans back and properly sits on the ground with me in his lap.

He props himself against the desk as he holds me against his chest. Petting his fingers through my hair. He keeps his head resting against mine.

"I'm glad you enjoyed this," he mumbles against my head.

"Who says I enjoyed it," I joke back. He snaps his head down at me, he relaxed when he saw I was kidding.

"Always with the jokes," he laughs. He adjusts himself and I feel something brush against my knee. I glance down and see his cock peaking between my legs. I look up at Daniel and notice his eyes closed. I'm not sure if his eyes being closed means he can’t see but I’ll take the opportunity. I reach down and trace the tip with my index. He gasps and grabs my hand. I jump at the sudden actions, looking up at him.

"Sorry, sorry. You surprised me," he says a little stunned. He lets go of my hand and leans his head back. I watch his face for any signs he wasn’t interested. His face was relaxed if not a little hooded.

I touch the tip again and this time he just sighs.im surprised at the flexibility, which I shouldn’t be. A hard plastic one would be very uncomfortable. I reach further between my legs and grab the base. It’s a limp grasp but he still seethes like it was tight.

"Sensitive," I mumble against his chest. I press a kiss to the smooth plastic near his neck. I graze my palm up against his shaft to the tip. My finger traces the fine black lines under the blue mushroom top. I hear a thump coming from him. Looking up I see his head flush against the desk. Noticing I've stopped he looks down at me.

"Not use to someone else touching me," he explains in a croak.

I pinch his tip," Someone else?". He hisses at the assault and hits his head against the desk again. I reach down and stroke him from base to head. I pick up a rhythm, feeling the textures with my palm and fingers. When he doesn’t answer I nudge him while pulsing my grip.

"Y-yes, someone else," He finally answers.

"So you have experienced another touch, perhaps from yourself," I tease. I shimmy out of his lap and straddle his spread legs. Removing my top I give him a second to come up with what I assume is going to be another teasing remark.

"yea, wouldn't you like to know. interested in what I do in my alone time," he of course teases. He adjusts his hips, so his cock is closer to me. Setting his hands beside his thighs, holding an excited look.

"I'm more curious on what you are getting off too, I heard you watch porn," I bite my tongue. I resume my exploration on his cock, giving less tentative strokes. His head drops to his shoulders as he watches me jerk him off. His fans whirling and out of the corner of my eye I see his foot twitch in odd intervals. I drop my hand onto his thigh and slowly trace wires or seams up his leg then up his stomach till I reach his neck. I cup his jaw then guide him down. Like a dog getting a bone he follows, leading his face to my lips.

Increasing my pace on his cock I gave wet kisses to his screen. Knowing he gets no physical pleasure from it does nothing to deter me. His body still reacts like he could feel everything. I trace my lips down his face, around his jaw, then stop at his neck. I nuzzle my nose up and around his exposed wires.

"Answer me, what do you get off to," I ask. I slow my strokes which makes him buck into my fist. I can’t stop the huff of amusement.

"Take a wild guess," he snits when I stop all together. I of course knew the answer, it wasn’t rocket science.

"Perhaps pornography, getting off to videos," I play coy. I watch my hand lazily track a cylinder on his hip.

"I have never got off to those," He says in a surprisingly collected tone. I lean back and look up at him. His eyes were still hooded but more focused. I stare a bit shocked; I was teasing but I honestly thought at some point he had masturbated to a vid or two. "you are by far the most appealing thing I have ever witnessed," He mumbles as he stares into my eyes. Always real emotions.

I raise my hands to his chest and push away from him. I slide my fingers up to his shoulders. I keep eye contact as I slide my hips up his thighs. Grinding myself on his cock. His fans play in a sigh, his mouth opens slightly. He raises his hands up to my hips, staring between my face and breast. I grab one of his hands and guide it to my chest. He timidly gropes, flicking his thumb over my nipple. I gasp and adjust so his cock slides over my seam.

Now that he had a handful of me, he kept his gaze on my face. Watching as I gasp and mumble praises. He seems in rapture at my looks, not gaining pleasure from just my touch but from my own joy.

"C-can I-," he looks down between us, "I want to b-be inside you." he looks back up at me with those eyes, I know he would take any answer I gave. I reach down and grab him. Lifting up I guide him to my entrance. I hover over him, just the slightest touch from him. We look at each other. I ease him inside, both of us watching each other. Both our breaths hitch, our bodies jerk at the new feelings. I settle against his lap, just embracing the feeling of being stuffed.

"You’re so big," I huff as I drop my head to his shoulder. He hums in acknowledgment, wrapping his arms around me. Resting his head against my shoulder, nestling his face against my neck.

"You are perfect," He groans. I can feel his legs start to shake lightly. His arms tighten and he rubs his face on me.

I pet his head," you ready?" he nods his head. I pull his head back so I can look at him then lift up. We both suck in a breath, our eyes drooping. I drop back down sharply, he hisses. I repeat, lifting then dropping.

I pick up a pace and ride him. Enjoying the new emotions on his screen. He seems to be doing the same, perhaps taking many pictures. I smile at the thought.

I change speed in favor of grinding against him. Feeling every bump and groove rub against my walls. His gasping and jerky motions makes it seem he enjoys it as well. I couldn’t imagine what he was feeling.

"Talk to me," I moan. His head tilts forward but he jerks it back against the desk.

"Wha-, what do yo-ou want me to say," he struggles to speak. I stop bouncing all together and just rotate on him.

"how do I feel," I ask. Stroking his face, watching him enjoy himself.

"amazing," he says with wonder. I squeeze my thighs to get him to continue. "I wonder if you hook me up to your computer if you could see how much my head was lighting up. So many senses, feelings, tingles. You are not just a pleasure to look at but," he bucks his hips," a pleasure to be inside."

"Well said Casanova," I joke. I take up bouncing again. He seems to react more in control this time. Dropping his hands to my hips and guiding my falls. He drops a smirk, laughing a bit as well. "W-what," I groan.

"You ready," he smiles. Before I could ask, he reminds me why battery powered boyfriends are better.

"A-Ah, fuck," I shouts as I arch my back. I lose focus and stop moving, getting lost in the vibrations immediately. Daniel laughs then uses his hands to help me ride him. I can’t stop the whimpers or the praises that pour from my mouth. Even he has issues keeping a pattern, dropping me a few times.

"I-I need to feel you cum," He clenches out. Not being able to answer I grab his hand and drop it between us. He slides his finger over my clit. I'm glad he gets the idea because I can’t bother to keep a single thought beside 'oh god'. The added touch is enough to send me over the edge. A shock goes up my spine and buzz around in my stomach. Every part of me clenches tight. My jaw, hands, cunt are contracting.

"D-Danie-l," I cry. Once the initial combust I drop my head to his chest, riding out the pleasure. Grinding against him as he stops bouncing me. I whimper against him, kissing his chest between shudders. Daniel gives short thrusts upward as I grip his cock. He rides my orgasm till he reaches his own. His fingers grab at my ass, his head bangs against the desk again.

"Tracey, thi-," he tries to speak. I just kiss his chest as he rides his high. His body lays slack after a few more seconds. I feel his grip lessen then he pets down my back.

We sit in comfortable quiet, enjoying the intimacy.

"Tracey," He breaks the silence. I hum against him." I think I love you," he says surprised. I lean back and look at him.

"Is that right," I try to fight back a smile, "I think I love you too." he sits up with a smile.

"Yea?"

"Yea," I chuckle. He hugs me tight. I hug him back, kissing the side of his head.

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

The end of Daniel and Tracey. this came out hella fluffy, never knew i was such a softy. Feel free to check out my archive for more content! 

Surprise chapter:Archive special

[mldrgrl]

It’s Who She Is

by: mldrgrl Rating: PG-13 Summary: That depressing story that took hold of me and wouldn’t let go?  This is it.  Set during present day and requires a little bit of knowledge of Certain Expectations

He knows that she’s leaving even if she hasn’t told him.  He senses it in the way animals can feel an earthquake before it happens.  He can feel it in the desperate, frantic roll of her hips as she moves above him, eyes closed and brows pinched.  He can feel it in the half-moon marks of her nails as she presses her fingers into his chest, just above his heart.  She’s only been like this twice before; once after her mother’s funeral and once when they were still considered outlaws and for him, the days had bled together into one long day, but he’d happened to glance at a calendar in a gas station one night and realized it was his son’s first birthday.

When she collapses onto his chest, he wraps his arms around her and waits for her breathing to even out and her heartrate to slow.  He brushes her hair away from her neck and rubs a circle between her slick shoulder blades with the heel of his hand.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, expecting an ‘I’m fine,’ or a ‘nothing.’  What he gets is silence.  “Scully?”

“It isn’t right,” she finally says.

“What isn’t?”

“Sitting idle.”

He sighs.

“Mulder, I’m a doctor and a scientist.”

“And a mother.”

It’s Scully’s turn to sigh.  She pushes up off Mulder’s chest and rolls off of him, turning to sit at the side of the bed.  He rolls onto his side behind her, snakes an arm around her waist, kisses the back of her hip.

“We’re not FBI anymore,” he says.

“Why should that matter?”

“Because we’re safe here.  You, me, Molly.  That’s all we need to worry about now.”

“Do you honestly believe that?”

He can’t lie to her or tell her that he’s been feeling useless and unprepared for weeks.  He rolls onto his back and covers his face with his arm.  She slips from bed, pulls her robe on and ties it closed.  When he hears the water running in the sink in the bathroom he gets out of bed and stands in the doorway.

“What do you want to do?” he asks.

She shakes water off her hands and grabs a towel to pat her face dry.  When she’s done, she looks at him in the mirror and then lowers her eyes.

“Dana?”

“I’ve been in contact with the CDC.  With my experience and expertise, I could be of use.”

“I don’t doubt that.  But, how?  And...in what way?”

“In a lab.”

“Not in a hospital?”

“No.”

“You would be safe?”

“Mulder.”

“Look, I’m not trying to be selfish here or...Scully, we have a child to think about.  That’s all I’m saying.”

“That’s exactly why I need to do this.  She deserves a better future than this and I don’t want her to grow up in fear or in isolation.  Mulder, I can’t just sit by and watch while this unfolds.  Not if I can do something about it.”

He nods his head a little and turns to walk away.

“Mulder.”

“I know you feel you need to do this, Scully, but I’m not going to pretend I feel good about it.”

“If the tables were turned?”  She crosses her arms and leans against the sink.  “If the threat were alien or the design of a conspiracy of men, Mulder, if this was an X-File, don’t tell me you wouldn’t do everything you could possibly do.”

Frustrated, he rubs the back of his head and shuffles his feet, trying to pace the small space in front of the door.  “I don’t know how much more I’m willing to sacrifice.”  

She drops her head and nods into her chest.  “Then I suppose that settles it.”

They stand silent and tense.  Mulder knows what she needs to do and he knows he needs to let her go and support her, but he can’t help but feel they’ve both paid their dues to the world.  He’s waited for the mudacity of a normal life for a long time, the one they’ve lived for the past two years, but of course something would come along to disrupt it.  Not aliens, not supersoldiers, not government conspiracies, but a simple, stupid, widespread virus.

“Go save the world, Scully.”

She opens her mouth a little.  Her lips move, but she doesn’t say anything.  He comes forward towards her and puts his arms around her.  She rests her forehead against his chest and then unfolds her arms to place her hands on his hips.

“I’ll hold down the fort here,” he tells her.  “Me and The Stinkbug will be just fine.”

“I’m afraid, Mulder.”

“I know.  I am too.”

*****

She’s been gone for three weeks and four days.  She left on a Thursday and today is a Monday.  Mulder has collected each page of his Word-of-the-Day calendar to share with her when she gets back.  He can’t wait to challenge her to use the likes of piffle or anoesis or jejune in a sentence.

Some days are better than others.  Molly is old enough to miss her mother and too young to explain to her why she isn’t home.  They’ve FaceTimed a few times so The Stinkbug could say hi to Mama, but Mulder can see that it’s hard on Scully for a variety of reasons.  She’s tired and overwhelmed and it’s hard to be away, even if she knows it’s for a good reason.  When he asks about their progress she doesn’t sugarcoat and she doesn’t try to put up an optimistic front.  It’s bad and it’s bleak and as the numbers rise, she looks more and more defeated each time he calls.  It takes superhuman effort not to beg her to come home.

He’s cleaning up the remnants of a Spaghetti-Os lunch from Molly’s high chair when he hears the car coming down the drive.  He throws the sponge in the sink and doesn’t bother to dry his hands before he looks out the window.  His chest swells with relief and elation when he sees it’s her car.  The cellphone in his back pocket rings before he’s out the door and he answers it just as he steps onto the porch.

“Don’t come down,” she says.

“What?”  He can see her waving at him through the windshield.

“Stay on the porch.”

“Why?”

“I probably shouldn’t be here.”

He cocks his head, realizing that she hasn’t shut off the engine.  She’s just idling.  Not home to stay.

“Where’s Molly?” she asks.

“Stinkbug’s taking a nap.”

“Could you get her?”

“Wake her?”

“Not if you don’t have to.”

“Okay.”  He puts the phone down on the porch railing and goes back inside.  Something’s wrong and he’s not quite sure what it is.  His heart is pounding and not because he’s just bounded up the stairs to Molly’s room.  He picks her up gently and cradles her against his shoulder.  She stirs a little, but he rubs her back and shushes her quietly and she stays asleep.

He has to move cautiously down the stairs and avoid the creak in the second riser.  He cringes a little and makes a mental note to oil the hinges on the screen door as he eases it open.  Molly twitches and rubs her face into her father’s neck as he adjusts his hold on her to grab his phone.

“Alright,” he says, quietly.  “Now what?”

“I just wanted to see her.  And you.”

“Why, Scully?”

She doesn’t answer immediately.  He raises his brows at her, watching her watch him.  “I’ve had a cough the last few days,” she finally says.

“A cough?”

“Shortness of breath.”

“Scully…”

“I was sent home, but…”

“What’re you saying?”

“I know I can’t be here.”

“Scully...”

“I need to isolate myself right now.”

“Where?  How?”

“There’s a quarantine center I’ll go to.”

“No.”

“No?”

“Scully, you’re not leaving.  I’ll...I’m not going to let you go through this alone.”

“You need to stay healthy, Mulder.  You need to stay here, stay healthy, and take care of Molly.”

“We’ll...we’ll seal off the downstairs room.  I won’t let her near it.”

“It doesn’t work that way, Mulder.  I’m sorry.  I’m so sorry.”

“Scully…”

“I have to go.”

“No.”

“I love you, Fox.  I love you very much.  Kiss The Stinkbug for me.”

“Scully!”

Molly jerks in Mulder’s arms and wakes with a cry.  It takes him a few moments to realize, from the momentary distraction, that Scully had hung up the call and was already backing down the driveway.  He tries to go after her, tries to comfort his child and run down the porch to stop her, but he can’t do both and his daughter takes priority.

“It’s okay,” he croons in Molly’s ear.  “It’s okay.”

It’s not okay.

The End

[uglypastels]

4-73

Here it goes 

4. What do you think about most?

You ;) lmao, no uhhhhh... food? 

5: What does your latest text message from someone else say?

from my bf: Hi bb 

6: Do you sleep with or without clothes on?

with 

7: What’s your strangest talent?

that I have none 

8: Girls… (finish the sentence); Boys… (finish the sentence)

Girls like spaghetti, Boys like spaghetti-os (WHY WAS THIS THE FIRST THING THAT CAME UP IN MY HEAD)

9: Ever had a poem or song written about you?

i have unfortunately, it’s like a tradition here that for secret Santa, you write a matching poem for the person you picked, so i’ve had a few poems written for me... all horrible. 

10: When is the last time you played the air guitar?

I prefer drums lol, today (In the Air Tonight by Phil Collins) 

11. Do you have any strange phobias? 

Needles for sure, but if we really are talking strange, than it’s not of heights, but dropping something from high up. Or falling. actually, not even from high up, even like a bridge, or a manhole. i’m so fucking scared of dropping anything anywhere and not being able to get it back. 

12: Ever stuck a foreign object up your nose?

lmao i had this barbie bracelet that looked like a septum ring and i loved to pretend i had one. so technically up my nose, but almost.

13: What’s your religion?

Atheist <3 

14. If you are outside, what are you most likely doing? 

walking back home 

15: Do you prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it?

BEHIND

16: Simple but extremely complex. Favorite band?

5SOS???

17. What’s the most recent lie you told? 

that i liked the result of my group project

18: Do you believe in karma?

yeah

19: What does your URL mean?

pastels that are ugly

20: What is your greatest weakness; your greatest strength?

weakness: anxiety, strength: creativity

21: Who is your celebrity crush?

Tom Holland

22: Have you ever gone skinny dipping?

yup, it was kinda boring alone lol

23: How do you vent your anger?

unhealthily (is that even a word?) 

24: Do you have a collection of anything?

books, pins/badges, and i used to collect angel (figurines) when i was younger)

25: Do you prefer talking on the phone or video chatting online?

on the phone

26: Are you happy with the person you’ve become?

No

27: What’s a sound you hate; sound you love?

hate: i answered this before and said children crying, but they don’t even have to be crying.  love: rain <3 

28: What’s your biggest “what if”?

What if I didn’t fail my classes two years ago (cause that's when my life went to complete shit) 

29: Do you believe in ghosts? How about aliens?

Yes. Yes. (or at least, I’d like them to be real) 

30: Stick your right arm out; what do you touch first? Do the same with your left arm.

right: tablet, left: pack of Arizona ice tea 

31: Smell the air. What do you smell?

nothing??? 

32: What’s the worst place you have ever been to?

uhhh... i can’t remember

33: Choose: East Coast or West Coast?

neither

34: Most attractive singer of your opposite gender?

Harry Styles 

35: To you, what is the meaning of life?

42

36: Define Art.

something that should have been fun in the process of making, but eventually just makes you want to gauge out your eyeballs and then cry :) 

37: Do you believe in luck?

sure?? 

38: What’s the weather like right now?

windy and it just stopped raining <3 

39: What time is it?

11:16pm

40: Do you drive? If so, have you ever crashed?

Nope, and because of the idea of crashing, i probably never will

41: What was the last book you read?

The Executioner, by Chris Carter

42: Do you like the smell of gasoline?

Absolutely not, trauma triggers <3

43: Do you have any nicknames?

Zuzia is already a nickname (well, diminutive, same thing) 

44: What was the last film you saw?

I watched a part of Dolittle???

45: What’s the worst injury you’ve ever had?

I broke my wrist

46: Have you ever caught a butterfly?

no, never even tried

47: Do you have any obsessions right now?

yeah

48: What’s your sexual orientation?

don’t know, don’t really care

49: Ever had a rumour spread about you?

during a student exchange with a polish school, everyone thought i was dating of the dudes from that school (ngl i did have a crush on him and we did hold hands on a trip to Amsterdam AND he let me borrow his raincoat when we arrived back at school and i still had to cycle home while he was going back with car but FAKE NEWS) 

50: Do you believe in magic?

same with ghosts and aliens, i hope it’s real

51: Do you tend to hold grudges against people who have done you wrong?

nah

52: What is your astrological sign?

Sagittarius

53: Do you save money or spend it?

save

54: What’s the last thing you purchased?

a few bday presents for my mom :) 

55: Love or lust?

love

56: In a relationship?

YUP <3 

57: how many relationships have you had? 

2 (and that half one with a polish guy since it was rumoured but still cute lol)

58: Can you touch your nose with your tongue?

nope

59: Where were you yesterday?

in bed

60: Is there anything pink within 10 feet of you?

yes. boxes

61: Are you wearing socks right now?

sure am

62: What’s your favourite animal?

zebra??

63: What is your secret weapon to get someone to like you?

humor?? idk people dont like me 

64: Where is your best friend?

at home

65: Give me your top 5 favourite blogs on Tumblr.

@spiderrrling @captainpeggy40 @duskholland @justasmisunderstoodasloki @appreci 

66: What is your heritage?

Polish (and Dutch?? eh kinda?) 

67: What were you doing last night at 12AM?

texting my boyfriend uwu

68: What do you think is Satan’s last name?

Johnson

69: Be honest. Ever gotten yourself off?

yeah

70: Are you the kind of friend you would want to have as a friend?

sure

71: You are walking down the street on your way to work. There is a dog drowning in the canal on the side of the street. Your boss has told you if you are late one more time you get fired. What do you do?

cry and try to get him out of the canal, fall in myself by doing so probably

72: You are at the doctor’s office and she has just informed you that you have approximately one month to live. a) Do you tell anyone/everyone you are going to die? b) What do you do with your remaining days? c) Would you be afraid?

a) i would tell my family and closest friends b&c) no idea 

73: You can only have one of these things; trust or love.

trust

happy now? 

[fangirlxwritesx67]

Paper Rings

au college Sam Winchester x OFC Dani  Word Count: 1300 Tags: none, literally, this is a fluff bomb of cute fluffy love and soft baby Sammy feels, stationery shopping, kisses. *** This one is for the best fanfic reviewer in the whole world, @dawnie1988​. Her request: Fluff. All the fluff. I want to be smothered in it. I’m thinking Sam this time, either canon or canon adjacent Sam or something a little more in the stratosphere of your au ‘Show Me How’ type Sam, dealer’s choice on that one Song Inspiration: Paper Rings by: Taylor Swift *** "There's nothing like a brand new notebook to make you feel like anything is possible, right?" Sam started. Was she talking to him? He turned his head to see a dark haired girl smiling eagerly at him. "It's the best part of a new school year. The new notebooks, the new pens. Even though we're in college now, I still love it." She was looking at him, her dark eyes sparkling, clearly expecting him to say something. "Uh, no." He stammered out. "Oh, yeah, I guess maybe dudes aren't as into that?" Before he could answer, she continued. "Anyway, hi, I'm Dani. I'm so excited to be in this class. Aren't you?"

“No, I mean, yes.” Sam wasn’t usually this flustered. “No, it’s just, my parents weren’t really the ‘back to school’ shopping type. But yes, I’m looking forward to Educational Psychology.” Apparently that answer was enough to encourage Dani.

“Are you going to be a teacher? I am. I’ve always wanted to be a teacher. It runs in my family. My grandpa taught high school, and my dad is a professor. Even my mom teaches music. I want to teach Middle School. I feel like those kids just have so much potential, you know? Like, if you catch them there, you can change the course of their lives.”

“Uh, I’m Pre-Law.” Sam was trying to keep up and formulate some kind of response. “I’m Sam.” 

“Nice to meet you, Sam.” Dani flashed him a bright smile and then turned to the front of the room as the professor walked in and called Educational Psychology to order. Sam was relieved to settle into the familiar territory of lecture, reading and taking notes. It was much easier than keeping up with Dani’s endless stream of chatter. 

At the end of the class, he had to hurry to his next one, which he had unwisely scheduled across campus. But the next time he walked into the classroom, there was Dani. She seemed to have been waiting for him, hardly letting him sit down before she launched into a discussion that covered the last class as well as the homework for this class. 

Sam was surprised to discover, in the flow of her words, that she had an astute grasp of the topic. He found himself agreeing with what she had to say, mostly in his head, of course, because she didn’t give him much chance to answer. When the class started, she responded to the professor’s questions with the same kind of enthusiasm - verbose, but knowledgeable. 

From that day, Sam and Dani seemed to fall into easy companionship. They sat side by side in class, they studied together for tests, and they managed to team up for group projects. 

They were friends, nothing more, but Sam treasured it. Dani was everything he was not: confident, chatty, secure in herself. He could tell that she was grounded by the support of her parents, who were present and caring, affirming her and encouraging her interests. It was a sharp contrast to his lost mother and distant father. 

Sam and Dani studied for finals together like they had for everything else. For Educational Psychology, of course, but also for their other classes, sharing study tips and quizzing one another. The library was closing for the night when Sam stretched and looked at her. They had been lost in their books for hours.

“I don’t know about you, but I can only learn so much on an empty stomach. Wanna hit the diner?” Sam stood up and stretched. Dani agreed eagerly. 

Once they were seated at a booth, Sam declared a study-free zone. He was launching into one of his favorite topics, about how brains need time to process, when Dani interrupted.  

“I agree, Sam. No more school work.” She reached out and took his hand. He startled into silence. “Let’s just talk about us.”

As usual, Dani talked the most, saying ten words for every one of his. But the words he did say were honest, heartfelt. She made him feel comfortable enough to tell a little bit of the truth about his life. Dani listened intently, her expressive face displaying every emotion: sadness, confusion, and ultimately, concern. 

“So the day we met, when you said your parents were not really the back to school shopping type, this is what you were talking about?”

“I… guess.” Sam wasn’t used to talking this much about himself. He felt himself get quiet, retreat back inward. He felt like maybe he had shared too much. 

“That’s too bad. You really deserve better, you know?” 

Sam was unsure how to react to such honest caring, so he shrugged. “It is what it is.” He answered dismissively.  He paid for dinner and drove Dani back to her dorm. Like a gentleman, he got out of the car to open her door. 

He was caught off guard when she threw her arms around his neck. Standing on tiptoes, she kissed him. 

Kissing Dani was the easiest thing in the world. Sam already knew her, trusted her. Kissing her felt right. And at the same time-

“Dani, you don’t have to-”

She pulled back, her hands still locked around his neck, to look him full in the face. “Sam Winchester, I don’t do anything because someone thinks I have to. I want to, I want this, I want you.” 

Sam wasn’t used to anyone knowing him, seeing him, much less wanting him. For a long moment he was silent, leaning his forehead against hers without speaking, their lips barely brushing.

“Kiss me once,” she whispered,  “Kiss me twice, I’ve been waiting for this.”

He knew Dani, trusted her, so he let himself get lost in the moment. When she finally pulled away, reluctantly, the only thing he could find to say was, “Thank you.” 

***

Sam and Dani finished at the top of their class in Educational Psychology. That class was the rule rather than the exception. Sam ended the semester with grades that would get him on the Dean’s List and guarantee two more years of scholarships. That was what he needed, to prove himself, to make this work. 

Dani went home to her family, to enjoy the break and celebrate the holidays together. Sam took an overnight bus to the last town Dean had mentioned, and when his brother wasn’t there, he hitch hiked until he found him. 

Dean greeted him with a giant hug. 

“College boy, huh? Hope you’re not too fancy for spaghetti-os and some bad TV reruns with your big brother, huh?” 

“Never.” Sam answered quickly.

*** Sam moved back to college for the spring semester at his earliest chance. He had kept in touch with Dani by text over the break, so he was not surprised when she returned to campus. What did surprise him was her insistence that they go to Target. 

“I need things for my dorm,” she said. But when they got there, she skipped the housewares section entirely and headed straight to the office supplies. 

Sam stood in the aisle between the sharpies and the binders, taking in the color coordinated staplers and stationery. 

“It’s not back to school season, really.” Dani said. “But pick your notebooks.”

Sam shook his head, baffled. “No, I can get what I need at the dollar store.” 

Dani almost stomped her foot. “C’mon Sam. This is my favorite thing, and I want to share it with you.” She took in his expression. “You can have nice things. You deserve this.”

At her urging, he picked up a few notebooks, a folder or two, and then a set of pens. 

She held his hand as they left the store. “See, now that you have new school supplies, don’t you feel like anything is possible? ” 

Sam took her face in both hands and kissed her, right there outside of Target. 

“Wrap your arms around me, baby boy,” she murmured as she sank into his embrace. 

“With you, Dani,” he murmured finally, “You’re the one I want. Yeah, anything is possible.”  *** This one’s unbeta’d so all the mistakes are on me. *** SPN First Last and Always: @boondoctorwho @dawnie1988 @deanwanddamons @defenderrosetyler @divadinag @emoryhemsworth @fookinghelljensensthighs @idreamofplaid @kalesrebellion @kickingitwithkirk @maddiepants @magssteenkamp @onethirstyunicorn   @there-must-be-a-lock @tloveswriting Sam Girl For Life: @awesomesusiebstuff @lilsylvia @winchesterxfamilybusiness​ Gay Screaming: @boondoctorwho​, @cracksinthewalls​, @fookinghelljensensthighs​ @itmighthavebeenintentional​, @justcallmeasmodeus​, @lastactiontricia​ @mskathywriteswords​, @rockhoochie​, @there-must-be-a-lock​, @thoughtslikeaminefield​

[metalchickaf19]

The Bowers Gang: How the Guys Would Celebrate Valentine’s Day with Their S/Os (Anonymous Request)

* Any and all credit for this idea goes to the requestor.

Belch

Literally lives for this day

Lives for it

In general, loves pampering his s/o, and sees Valentine’s Day as an excuse to go completely over the top

Seriously. Dude clears “the top” like it’s a 3-foot hurdle

Makes Valentine’s day an all-day event 

Gives his partner a private ride to school (no rabble of juvenile delinquents for once)

Showers them with flowers, chocolates, and (of course) a giant teddy bear the second they get in the car...

... but no, he did not think about the fact that they’d have to carry that stuff around with them all day

Hey - his s/o has an entire 6-minute car ride to figure it out. Leave Huggins’ romanticism alone.

Cuts his own classes so he can walk his s/o from class to class (aka: so he can hold his s/o’s hand as much as possible and gaze at their adorable tiny face)

Takes them out to a drive-in movie later on in the night

Cleaned out his entire car for it (which, believe me, is a huge profession of love on Huggins’ part), and made a legit love-nest in the backseat for prime movie-watching pleasure 

We’re talkin’ pillows, candles (which aren’t a good idea), a fluffy blanket for snuggling - Huggins went all out

Spends the entire night sharing a large soda with his s/o and chowing down on some cheap drive-in burgers to boot

... Which somehow leads to passionate sex in the backseat

 You thought Huggins’ was completely innocent?

Not on V-Day, girl; not on freakin’ V-Day

Henry

Didn’t know it was Valentine’s Day until Victor mentioned it to him in first period (cue the biggest “oh shit” face you’ve ever seen in your life)

Probably wouldn’t acknowledge the holiday at all if it were left up to him, but knows, since his partner is probably planning on giving him something, that he’s expected to reciprocate

Makes a really shitty Valentine on the fly (literally within the last 20 minutes of first period), then gives it to his s/o later on in the halls 

... It’s obviously supposed to be a heart, but it looks more like a boat for some reason

... And his handwriting is way too messy to be able to read what he wrote

But, hey, Valentine from Henry Bowers - that shit doesn’t happen every day

After school, just spends the afternoon walking around town with his s/o - but actually lets them hold his hand for once (though just for a little while)

Yes. In public.

Is this better than a planned Valentine’s date?

No. But Henry didn’t have time to think of a planned Valentine’s date, so we’ll act like it is for now.

Takes his partner to an impromptu house party later that night to celebrate

Ends up getting sloppy drunk (as usual), and 1.) keeps invading his partner’s personal space (i.e. hangs all over them all night), 2.) keeps going on and on about how adorable they are, and how much he loves them (which shows you just how wasted he is)  and 3.) eventually tries to score his partner’s number, which he definitely already has

... Honestly not a bad day, all things considered 

Henry’s s/o will be disappointed if they wanted a V-Day lay, though 

Bowers might start giving some oral or something, but I guarantee you he passes out in their vagina 

Patrick

Let’s get this straight: Hockstetter sees Valentine’s Day as nothing more than a certified opportunity to get laid 

He may go the extra mile (by, like, a solitary step), but dude will definitely expect payment for services rendered - know this going in 

Brings his partner a single rose before first period (obviously torn from somebody’s flower bed)

Also passes them constant sexually explicit notes in all the classes they share together, regardless of how far apart he sits from them

Like... extremely sexually explicit notes - even for Patrick

All I can say is, he included 3 pictures and 1 shockingly thorough anatomical diagram 

Hockstetter is a freak, folks - tis’ established in this fandom 

Invites his s/o over to his place later on in the night so he can cook them a “romantic Valentine’s dinner”...

... which just turns out to be canned spaghetti warmed up in the microwave

Yes, Hockstetter just wanted his s/o trapped in his empty house, and had no intention of cooking them a romantic Valentine’s dinner - we’re all floored by this news 

Also makes them dessert (a semi-raw brownie with ice cream)...

... but it’s possible the brownie was laced with marijuana, and Patrick failed to mention that detail until after his s/o ate it

In its entirety.

So, moral of the story: As a general rule, don’t consume anything that has passed through Hockstetter’s hands (even water is questionable)

...Think you guys know where the rest of his partner’s night is headed 

We all wish them good luck, and godspeed

Victor 

Skips school with his s/o so they can spend the entire day together 

Takes them to the Derry roller rink (the only true 80′s experience)

Eye-gazing? Check. Hand-holding? Hella’ check.

... But the hand-holding is kind of necessary, because it becomes apparent pretty quickly that Criss’s partner has no balance

It’s fine, though - dude is literally enamored by girls that lack every single form of grace (aka: awkwardness = let me kiss you right now)

Buys he and his partner a gargantuan amount of pizza at the confections counter (complete with all the toppings they want, arranged into a heart)

Takes them home for a little rest before picking them up later on in the night for a “special surprise”

... Which actually is a special surprise, unlike the Hockstetter situation mentioned above

Takes his s/o to the bluffs above Derry, where he’s set up a roaring bonfire and two comfy folding chairs 

Are they going to watch the sunset together?

You bet your romantic ass, they are

Presents his s/o with their Valentine’s gift just as the sky hits peak beauty-level (i.e. when it’s all orangey, purpley, and pink)

... And guess what?

It’s a necklace/bracelet with he and his partner’s initials engraved on either side, and I’m crying because it’s made of real silver and he did extra chores for months to save up for it

So yeah, he and his s/o are definitely going to have sex in the woods

... What?

Fuck off, dude, don’t judge - I would do it too if given the opportunity 

[mariposalass]

A Moment into Forever

Summary: A friend and an adopted brother join hands in marriage in early July, and Mari couldn’t be any prouder of the two.

Notes: It’s the Love Beyond Magic wedding, and you’re invited to read this story along. Here’s a quick reference masterlist related to the wedding event: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9. Also, huge shout outs to @husband-of-lucoa, @moonkiss-kid, @jenny-snoopers-world, @jaklovemail, @self-shipping-angel, and theselfshippingwitch (I can’t seem to tag you properly for some time) and their f/os for the guest cameos in this story.

Setting: Zellerbach Garden of Perennials at the San Francisco Botanical Gardens in San Francisco, California and Mari and co.’s house in Daly City, California; July 7, 2019

Tags: crossovers, Love Beyond Magic, self shipping, fluff, wedding, guest cameos, few mentions of character death

Morning arrives at the Tan residence one July Sunday, there is so much activity to get the last minute things done: from setting up the backyard for the reception to getting some of the food cooked to the bridal party needing to get ready for the big day. The ladies (Issa the bride and bridesmaids Mari, Kairi, Hermione, and Issa’s old friend Mona Roque) had their makeup and hair done by some friends led by Michiru Kaio in the master bedroom on the ground floor while the guys (Harry the groom and the groomsmen Ahkmenrah, Kirby, Ron, and Issa’s old friend Samuel Hidalgo) got ready inside in what will be Harry’s former room with Kirby on the second floor (the couple would move into the master bedroom after their brief mini-honeymoon out of town). There are exchanges of encouragement and stories and a bit of shenanigans here & there, but it went all smoothly.

After everyone got ready and got dressed, Mari and Kairi escorted Issa out to the porch at the now mostly decorated backyard of the house for the first look and bridal party photo shoot. The girls, the bride wearing an ivory spaghetti strap blouse, a long blush tulle skirt, and black chunky heels, whereas the two bridesmaids (along with Mona and Hermione) are dressed in embroidered blush dresses, chatted for a bit about what is going to happen. Her hands are tightening their grip onto her pink and white floral bouquet out of nervousness, although her face didn’t show that much at all with her trying to remain calm before the first look and bridal party shoots.

“So, today is finally here,” Mari spoke up first, “The day you two are getting married.”

“Absolutely, sis,” Kairi smiled before turning her attention to Issa, “Harry is so going to be floored once he gets down here to see you. I mean, we managed to hide your outfit for a couple of weeks without him catching onto it yet. He’s usually the one who couldn’t his nose away from any secretive stuff.”

“Gee, thanks guys, we all need it,” the slightly nervous bride thanked her soon-to-be sisters in law, “Come to think of it though: I’m just as surprised as you two that we hid it so well, he didn’t even bother to ask us.”

“Not a problem,” Mari noted, “I guess we did it so well indeed.”

“I can’t wait to see his reactions to you in a top and skirt rather than a dress,” Kairi giggled at the thought of her older adopted brother having dropped jaws upon seeing his future wife in a different outfit than he had imagined from the white lies they have given onto him for the last couple of weeks.

“Well, dream harder, Kairi,” Issa rolled her eyes a bit with a shrug, “I’m placing bets that he’s going to wear his eyeglasses all day long and forgetting to fix his hair for today.”

“Quick, everyone, the groom’s coming!!!” Mona’s panicky voice soon alerted everyone that Harry’s about to go to the backyard porch, sending everyone to hide from his line of sight.

“We need to go before he catches us,” Mari told Issa as she and Kairi went back inside to the master bedroom.

“Or else,” Kairi chimed in.

“Okay, girls, just don’t heckle at him on your way out,” she reminded them in advance.

Both girls nodded as they went back inside, leaving Issa alone to have some peace and quiet before he shows up. Good Lord, it’s been nearly a decade when they first met? Nearly a decade of dating has come by and it was so surreal to think that it would lead to this moment.

The memories were coming back to her in flashbacks in a film: the first awkward meeting, Harry’s major heartbreak from breaking up with Ginny and disowning his canon realm, the first awkward date, bonding over their hatred for tight enclosed spaces, the upset that she has to go college and get a job at the newspaper company they work for ahead of him, countless times of flirting with each other, a couple of times they would argue and yet make it up afterwards, the multiple dates and trips together, the many sleepless nights working on articles and races against the deadlines, that little engagement surprise at Ron and Hermione’s wedding a few months back. It must have taken a few minutes to go over them, but it felt like an eternity for her.

Just as memory lane keeps running in her mind, a familiar English male voice soon woke her up from its trance, “Hey, I thought about of dropping by before the whole thing starts. Just to, you know, not to get so tense about the day ahead of time.” Issa turned around and she was quite happy to see that he was there: the man she’s going to tie the knot with, the brother of two of her dearest friends. Harry James Potter looks absolutely dashing on today: his bangs have slicked back with gel, he managed to sneak in contact lenses (again, but he’s getting better at wearing them in a near daily basis nowadays), the scar has been partially concealed with a little bit of concealer, and this is so un-Harry-like as if the guy was trying too hard to look good for her. But still handsome nonetheless.

And like the rest of the guys who’s not Kirby, he’s wearing an ivory white dress shirt, gray dress pants, and brown shoes, finished with a layered owl feather and gold-tone wiring buttonhole. Unlike the rest of guys though, he does have a suit jacket on that matches the pants in color & fabric where the buttonhole is attached onto and a blush tie that compliments her skirt.

She was totally floored by the whole look he has pulled off, and she couldn’t help but to blush hard behind her hand. Harry, on the other hand, was stunned by how lovely Issa is as well: to be honest, he was expecting her to wear something more white and in a form of a dress if you asked him beforehand, but the top and skirt combo is quite a welcoming refresher from the amount of white dresses he has seen on brides in many of the weddings he, Issa, Mari, Kairi, and, yes, even Kirby have went to in recent years.

Her hair has been styled into a messy bun with braids, the makeup was done well for even amateur standards (thanks in part of Michiru’s clever skilled hand), he could even sworn that he could sniff some of the perfume she usually has on, but beyond that, it probably has to do with the sweet elegant aura and grace she always gives off that makes her unorthodox bridal outfit more stunning in his eyes in a good way.

“I see that you decided not to give up on the old locket for the big day as well,” he admitted to her when he noticed that the silver heart locket necklace she usually wears being a stand out from the other pieces of jewelry that are in gold before solemnly pondering on the significance, “Perhaps your cousin would’ve love to be here to see this day happening if she was still here on Earth.”

“Yeah, I wish Serena was here to see us getting married,” she smiled back while holding back the tears with the mention of her late beloved cousin bringing back old memories before bringing up another thing near and dear to his heart, “She was unfortunately ill for most of her life, I afraid. I guess the same can be said for Uncle Sirius and your parents if they weren’t, you know, killed off too soon, right?”

“Same, same,” he agreed as he too tried not to shed so much tears before the ceremony could even begin.

As the two were finishing up on the remembering the dead, they soon got distracted when they overheard giggling and cheering from their friends and family: including the bride’s parents and relatives coming in from the Philippines and the entire fam bunch & circle of friends with a co-worker of theirs taking the pictures as discreetly as possible. Issa’s dear old best friend Jenny and her feline detective husband Snooper are also present along with their respective families and with some new family members, including a pair of genius tech prodigy brothers and a friendly bear & his bird lady friend.

What surprised the groom the most was that some of the people he knew did actually travel from the UK to Daly City via San Francisco. He was surely expecting that many from his neck of the woods not to come besides Ron & Hermione who arrived a few weeks ago to help out in the last stages of planning and Sayeko, Levi, Erwin, Mike, Zoe, and Levi’s father Roland who had agreed to come to the event, even especially with Ginny understandably choosing not to go not as to rub things between them on the wrong way, but seeing Remus, Tonks, and Teddy being at the house before heading for the ceremony is more than welcome. The last living Marauder gave Harry a warm hug, Tonks kindly gave him a few words, and Teddy happily proclaimed to everyone present that Issa will become his godmother upon marrying his godfather, which actually everyone giggling and laughing at the coincidence.

And the most surprising of them all was that his biological cousin Dudley Dursley of all people arrived from his current place at Manchester, England to California out from Mari’s invitation and Luna was there as well. He’s well aware that he and Dudley have made amends and still sending correspondence over mail and calls & that these two are dating each other for some time, but the fact that both of them are here in one sitting has flooded him with gratitude that he hugged Mari tightly out of happiness Dudley even admitted he was worried about coming to the wedding in the first place out of fear, but Harry does appreciate the effort he and Luna made to come over nevertheless.

After the bridal party and family pictures have been taken at the backyard, everyone headed out to the San Francisco Botanical Gardens and into its Zellerbach Garden of Perennials for the ceremony. The garden within a city park is already filled with a diversity array of plants and flowers from around the world that wasn’t necessary to decorate the whole place like crazy (and also to comply with state & city forests and parks rules), but there’s a small ceremony table under the gazebo shade and a God’s Knot set with three differently colored ropes hanging onto a small ring which in turn is hanging onto a wooden peg. There’s also a park ranger on hand as accordance to the rules. Because both fathers on both sides have leg injuries, both sets of parents choose to sit down before the ceremony begins.

After some moments of quiet talk and waiting, the ceremony begins: the first one to walk down to the gazebo was the Doctor, dressed in black & white and carrying what appears to be a rolled up scroll of psychic paper, then next came Harry trying to not worry so much as he headed for the gazebo on his own, the first 3 sets of groomsmen and bridesmaids went down in pairs (Ron & Hermione, Mona & Sam, and Kairi & Ahk) went next with the ladies carrying black lanterns in lieu of flowers, and Mari soon arrived, a black lantern on one hand and a wagon carrying Kirby on the other, walking down towards the gazebo while Kirby waves and squeaks out ‘Hi!’ at people as he guards the wedding bands inside a small box.

 As Mari walked, she could see a couple of guests smiling back at her: Dylan, Palutena, and Lucoa are there with their ever-growing clan of children (the threesome waved at her when they caught her attention), Oaklyn is also present alongside Jade (who’s trying not to visibly tear up too soon) on the right side next to the grass ‘aisle’, Sayeko and Levi are not too far behind along with Erwin, Mike, & Hanji and Roland is also present, not wanting missing his late friends’ child’s big day, Jords is also present with Tess, giving her two thumbs up, Snooper and Jenny, together with their respective families, are on the left side of aisle, giving her a friendly wave, then there’s Violet and her fiance Jonah Heston, both of them gave her a warm encouraging smile.

Once the bridal party settled down on their seats and people’s talks began to quiet down for a few minutes, Issa comes out of the entrance of the garden, bouquet in her hands and wide grin on her face. Everyone watched on as she went down the aisle on her own and approached the gazebo where the ceremony is about to start. When she got near to it, Harry decided to go down the steps to meet up with her; both of them then got the other’s hand and went up the gazebo before facing the Doctor who is already prepared for this very day.

The whole ceremony begins as the Doctor unfurls the scroll of psychic paper (but it was actual written words on it unlike its predecessors, he must have modified it for this day) and begins to talk to the crowd present, “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today in the garden heart of the City by the Bay to witness the marriage between these two young persons...” He then turned to speak to the couple and spoke, “Harry, Issa. The fact that we’re all here with you today as you make a commitment and start a new chapter in your ever-growing love story and it has formed an intersection in all our lives and it wouldn’t been made possible if your souls haven’t met nearly a decade ago.”

The Doctor continued on his talk for a bit, asking for remembering the loved ones no longer present, daring people if they don’t want the marriage to happen (no one actually did), and then he asked Mari to do a reading of a poem they had picked before he picked up where he last left off, “A marriage is a voluntary and full commitment, made from the deepest sense to the exclusion of others and entered into the hope and desire to last for a lifetime and beyond that. Before you can declare your vows to each other, I would ask you two that you confirm that you’re intending to marry each other today. Now face each other and join hands?”

Both man and woman turn to face each other and join their hands as the Doctor began to ask Issa first some important questions, “Issa, do you come here freely and with no reservations to give yourself to Harry in marriage? Do you promise to love, honour, cherish, and protect him, forsaking all others and holding only onto him forevermore?” She bravely and calmly answered back, “I do, Doctor.” He then turned to Harry asking the same thing, “Harry, do you come here freely and with no reservations to give yourself to Issa in marriage? Do you promise to love, honour, cherish, and protect her, forsaking all others and holding only onto her forevermore?” He also reply the same way she did earlier, “I do, Doctor.”

The Time Lord asked for Kirby to bring up the wedding rings and the little puffball dashed in, holding a small wooden box towards the Doctor and offering it to him. Kirby squeaked ‘Poyo, poyo,’ as the Doctor gives him a cheeky little smile and picks up the box from his stubby little arms. Opening up the box reveals two gold rings: one was a thin ring with a curvy v-shape central arc studded with diamonds, the other was a sleek number with an elevated satin brush finish and polished bevel edges. The rings were then blessed by family, friends, & guests present before the Doctor picked them up & gave a ring each to Harry & Issa and the rings are exchanged among the couple themselves.

The Doctor then starts the next part of the ceremony: The God’s Knot unity ceremony. Harry takes the ring of rope strands from the peg on the wood board and holds onto it as Issa braids the three strands together while the Doctor goes on explaining their significance & symbolism. Once the bride was done braiding the strands with a knot, they went to sign off the all paperwork and the Doctor proceeded into making a quick charge to the couple before finally concluding the event by saying, “Alright then, by the powers vested onto me by the powers that be and the cities of San Francisco & Daly, I can finally declare you two as husband and wife. Harry, you can now...”

He wasn’t even done finishing his sentence when he saw the two finally kissing as a married couple, this quick smack of lips from the now married couple actually gave him a good chuckle, the three of them knew that people are getting impatient to get to the reception by this time. Finally, the ceremony was done and everyone present cheered on as the newly wedded Mr. and Mrs. Potter get out of the garden to have some alone time and soak in the moment.

The backyard has decked out for the dinner reception: not too fancy, but still sincere and sweet as the couple didn’t want all the silly trappings of a normal wedding in their own. Tables were spread out with the dance floor right on the middle and a lounge area besides it, a makeshift photo booth made by Kairi and Karina is also in place with a ton of props and accessories to choose from, the dinner buffet table and drinks station were stationed on the porch for easier access, and some games are available for guests to play with. Dylan’s butler Edgar and Belle’s neighbor Mrs. Potts oversee the catering service with the food and drinks made by a couple of the guests and wedding party members who offered to help in.

As everyone settles in for the party, lights began to light up as the sky enters into the dark night and, since all tables are positioned for everyone to get a good view of the dance floor, guests couldn’t help but to gush and admire the newly wedded couple dancing to Ne-Yo’s Miss Independence. After the first dance, those wanting to dance the night away are more than welcomed to the dance floor and many surely did like the soon-to-be-wedded Hestons, Oak & Jade, Jords & Tess, and Dylan & his goddess wives. Some of the guests who weren’t into dancing still have a fun time playing games, chatting to other guests, have a great dinner, and taking a ton of photos at the photo booth. Some of the bridal party also chatted with some of the guests. Even Kirby enjoyed himself doing his famous Kirby dance in one segment with two other copies of himself as backup dancers, which got everyone going aww and admiring the adorable puffballs’ dancing.

Now by this point, people were expecting a bouquet toss from the bride anytime soon, but for many single Filipinas, this was a major nightmare: being asked to catch a bouquet is like the kiss of death and they won’t have any of this bouquet toss nonsense, not even Issa’s remaining female cousin Nicola was looking forward to it. But unexpectedly, the bride already made her decision: instead of making all the single ladies to catch her bouquet, she called in Mari to the dance floor and gave her bouquet to her instead. This random act of kindness did flustered Mari by a ton, and it touched her so much, considering she WAS the one who got her best friend and her adopted big brother together in the first place.

After a long flustered speech and being socially awkward to a fault, the assistant librarian went back to her seat and was greeted by Philip who was sitting next to her even before the bouquet honor. He looks rather impressed by her talk despite being understandably nervous in front of the public.

“You did well over there,” he kindly praised her speech conviction as she settled down back to her seat.

“Gee, thanks,… Pip,” she blushed in between words.

“Don’t feel too flustered, my dear: everyone here thought it was really good,” Philip replied back before he soon realized that she was able to say his usual nickname, “By Jove, Mari. You managed to muster the courage to use my nickname without fear.”

“Uh… I actually did?” Mari’s eyes widened up in shock.

“Oh yes absolutely. But I’m not mad at you for saying it, I’m actually quite flattered,” he smiled back before he continued a little bit, “Oh, I think I might have something for you ahead of your birthday as well.”

“Yeah, what is it?” she was getting a little confused of his last sentence before her lips were greeted by his in contact; the reaction was of shock, joy, and feeling rather amused.

“Whoa, what was that for?” Mari gasped with her right hand cupping her mouth in surprise, her face turning red in disbelief.

“Now that, Mari, happens to be a kiss,” he cheekily winked back at her.

Unbelievable, her first kiss in Harry and Issa’s wedding. The feeling didn’t sink in her mind yet and she has not that many words to describe this beyond she found it quite estatic. She couldn’t keep her eyes off of Philip, or Pip, or whatever you want to call him as, until Uncle Gru informs everyone that it’s time for the bubble send off and everyone grabs their bubble tubes and circles the couple around as they head off to their mini-honeymoon (the big one will have to wait for later) out of town. After a quick countdown, all the guests start blowing bubbles at Harry and Issa while they walked out of the house and into the car for the trip.

With that one chapter finally recorded in her mind, Mari couldn’t help but to feel happy for both of them so much, knowing that they will have many great years ahead of them and their future no matter what the past and fate told them otherwise. And there is another thing that is also crystal clear: her future with Philip is also looking rather just as bright as the backyard string lights and lanterns that lit up the sky that night…

The End

[teacherimagines]

Apocalypse Series Part 14

You were breathing heavily. You leaned your forehead on his. You ended the kiss where it was because you weren’t ready to take it further. You also couldn’t breathe.

“That was-damn.” You said.

“Yeah.” He said in between breaths.

The you got back into bed, T/C/N returned after a little while. You didn’t want to be overconfident, but you had a feeling that you gave him a boner. The concept of that was on your mind until he came back in the room.

“Miss me?” He asks and plops down next to you. He had a pep in his step and a smile on his face.

“Yes.” You look over to him and smile. He gives you a look that makes your stomach twirl. The two of you decide to read your books, but that doesn’t last long because T/C/N found a way to get his lips back on yours. You had dropped your book in your lap and kissed him back. He pulled away.

“I’m sorry, I just couldn’t stop thinking about your lips since we last kissed.” He traces his thumb over your lips.

“Same here.” You say as his thumb was still in place. He kissed you again, this time much more slowly, and pulled away. He looked at you with a certain glow in his eyes that you haven’t seen before. You put your hand on his cheek and he leaned into your touch. He started kissing you again, and each kiss built upon the next. Each kiss growing with intensity, fire, and passion. Your hand moved to his chest, and he moved his to your thigh.

“Is this okay?” He asked, making sure you were okay with where his hand was.

“Yeah.” You pulled him back into the kiss. He then slipped his tongue along your lips. It made your heart race. You didn’t know if you were ready for this, but you let him in anyway, to try it out.

You couldn’t use words to describe how using tongue felt like. He would explore your mouth, and press up against your tongue. He earned many moans from you. He let you try tongue, but you seemed to be less skilled with it. But once you got more comfortable you became better. You thought wow he keeps making you moan like crazy, but why can’t you make him moan?

Your kisses slowed down, and the two of you pulled away slowly. You realized you couldn’t go too far, since you were worried T/C/N would go light headed and pass out. And your stomach is still too badly bruised.

The two of you stared into each other’s eyes. He rubbed his thumb over your cheek and you fiddled with his shirt.

“Do you want me to take it off?” He asks and you giggle.

“I mean, if you want to. If it’s not weird.” He sat up and pulled off his shirt. You watched in amazement, as this wasn’t the first time you had seen him without a shirt, but this time was different. He looked confident, he had all the right to be. He has a perfect body. You traced your cold fingers over his warm skin. He shivered at your touch. His skin was so soft, and his chest hair was in perfect little curls. You look up to him, and he smiles down at you.

“I would ask you if you wanted to take your shirt off too, but I don’t want to hurt your bruise.” You both laugh.

“Maybe another day.” You say and look back down to his chest.

The two of you fell asleep, wrapped in each other’s arms. You woke up at one point in the night, it must’ve been around ten o’clock. You had cooked a can of spaghetti-os. You made a bowl for T/C/N, but he was still sleeping. You debated on waking him up or not. You decided not to, and left a bowl at his bedside. The next morning, you woke up and T/C/N wasn’t in bed. The sheets were cold and his bowl of spaghetti-os was gone. However, his shirt was still on the floor from when he took it off last night. You sat up, and your stomach bruise was aching.

You pushed past the uncomfortable pain and hopped out of bed, and found T/C/N in the kitchen. You saw his toned bare back. You walked up behind him and wrapped your arms around him.

“Good morning Y/N.” He twisted around so you were now hugging his front.

“Morning.” You gave him a cheery smile.

“I made you breakfast.”

“Mmm, that sounds great.” You let go of him and he handed you a plate. You sat down at the table and ate.

“How long have you been up?”

“Probably about an hour.”

“What have you been doing?”

“Just, uh-cleaning up.” You couldn’t tell if he was telling the truth or not.

“Really?” You gave him an untrusting look.

“Yes, really, all right.” Geez. You hit the wrong nerve. He stormed out of the room and you followed him. You felt a stomach pain when you got up. He closed the bedroom door and locked it behind him. You pounded on the door.

“T/F/N. Open up. You’re acting like a teenager.” Lol, the irony. You kept knocking and calling his name. You gave up and sat outside the door. Your back was pressed up against it, so when he suddenly unlocked and opened the door you stumbled.

You got up and brushed yourself off.

“What was that all about?” You look at him curiously but he avoided eye contact.

“Whatever it is, you can tell me.” You said softly. He looked up at you. He gave you one of those looks that made your stomach twirl. You swallowed thickly.

“I’m sorry, no.” He shut the door in your face. Okay. Rude.

“Okay you are just being ridiculous.” You walked away from the door and went back to eating your breakfast. When he finally came out of the room, you were washing the dishes. He walked up to you and stood closely by your side.

“Are you ready to talk?” He quietly said no.

“Did I do something? Say something?” He didn’t answer.

“I can’t help if you don’t talk.” You now gave him the cold shoulder. You put the last dish on the rack and dried your hands with a towel. You walked passed him and sat down in the living room. You read your book while you waited for him to join you. You knew he would come sit down at some point. It took some time, but he eventually joined you on the couch.

“Y/N, I’m sorry. I’m making a big deal out of this.” You close your book. He gives you a blank stare.

“Well, what is it?” You ask impatiently. He fiddled with his fingers he swallowed before speaking.

“You know how I think you are gorgeous...” he started. He looked up to you, but when he saw your pissed off face he looked back down at his hands.

“I um-yesterday. When we were uh-kissing.” You had a feeling you knew where this was going.

“You uh-gave me a boner?” He stated like a question. Your face turned red, and you waited for his head to lift up again.

“And this morning too. I don’t know how you didn’t wake up, but I was moaning in my sleep.” He paused for a second.

“And I want to take things slow with you, I do, but-“

“We have this sexual tension.” You finish his sentence and he looks up at you.

“You feel it too?” You blush and giggle.

“Yeah.” He smiled.

“I’m sorry for acting like that. I was kind of frustrated and freaking out.”

“It’s okay. I understand now.” You couldn’t get it out of your head that you gave him a boner. Twice.

T/C/N unexpectedly pulled you into a hug. You hugged him back. Your stomach was being squeezed, and it hurt really badly.

“You’re a good hugger, Y/N.” You chuckled and forgot about the pain.

“You are too.” You said a little weakly. Most hugs are just limp, and you don’t want to be the first to let go, and it makes you an awkward mess. But this hug, was better than any you’ve ever had. T/C/N started pulling away and you followed.

“I’m sorry I forgot. How is your stomach?”

“It hurts a little, but it’s healing.”

“Let me take a look.” You held the bottom of your shirt down.

“Y/N-“

“I don’t want to look at it.”

“You don’t have to. You can close your eyes.” He gently lifted your hands off of your shirt. You closed your eyes and turned your head away. He carefully peeled the fabric away from your belly. He doesn’t say anything.

“What is it?” You ask.

“Um. Well it looks like your bruise is getting worse.”

“What? I thought it was healing.”

“It was. But now it’s purple and swollen.” He very lightly poked your stomach and you winced.

“You need more medication. That’s the only thing I can think of what to do.” He got up from the couch and left the room. You opened your eyes and folded your shirt back over. T/C/N came back with a few bottles of pills.

“Okay. So which ones did you use last time?” He sorted the bottles on the couch. You picked up the bottle you used.

“Okay. So that one didn’t help.” He looks at the labels on each of the bottles.

“You should try this one.” He hands you the bottle. You read the dosage and unscrew the cap. T/C/N gets you some water and you take the pills.

“Does it not hurt?” He asks.

“It’s sore, but I didn’t think much of it.”

“Well, you just relax. I will make myself useful somehow.” He gets up from the couch, but you grab his hand.

“Will you make yourself useful by sitting with me?” He looks down at you and smiles. You give him the puppy dog eyes and he gives in. He sits back down and you lean your head up against his shoulder. The two of you sat in this position, and read all day. Sometimes you’d move your head a little, and you’d feel T/C/N’s whole body tense up, but after a while he’d relax again.

You stopped reading when you got hungry. You helped T/C/N make dinner, and he did the same damn thing where he helped guide your hands when you were cutting. This time more than any you felt electricity shock through his touch. His breathing on your neck left more goosebumps and tingles. Also, this time he kissed your cheek, and you blushed as red as a tomato. You liked these feelings, and you hope they never go away.

The two of you ate, you took some more medicine, and then went back to reading. This time you curled up in his lap and your head rested on his chest. His arm was wrapped around your legs and extended outwards to hold his book. Your eyes got droopy, and you put up a hard fight, but eventually sleep took you over. T/C/N realized this and carried you to bed. You stirred as he was carrying you, and he shushed you and told you to go back to sleep.

T/C/N held you close that night. He felt so bad for acting so stupid earlier. He also felt awkward talking to you, his former student, about a boner you gave him. The whole topic made him feel uncomfortable. The notion of a teacher dating a student is so taboo, and he has these incredible, uncontrollable feelings for you. He wouldn’t ever want to lose you. Even if he got to choose between the world going back to normal, and you, nothing would be the same again. You are his world.

———————

I realized that not everyone likes reading, BUT try to imagine a book that is closely related to your favorite genre (even if it’s fanfiction lol).

Part 1

Part 15

[alphas-girl]

Trainer by Day, Scrapbooker by Night

Based on Anonymous Prompt: Prompt for reader and Owen to be best friends and he makes a scrapbook of all their memories on the island together and the last page is reader's favorite picture of them with the question will you be my girlfriend under it (super fluffy please)

A/N: Sorrrryyy haven’t written for a while.  It’s been a little crazy.  Here’s some fluff.

-

“So what is it that you’re so excited to show me?” you chuckle.  “Because I know that the island doesn't have speed limits, but if it did, you would have broken all of them on the way over here.”

“Not true,” Owen snorts as he climbs the stairs of the bungalow, fiddling with the key to unlock the door.  “I’m an excellent driver.”

“Uh-huh,” you smile, hands on your hips.  “Well, hurry it up, Grady.  I’ve got a date with my couch and Netflix.”

“No you don't,” Owen smiles, swinging the door open.  

“Oh really?” you reply, cocking an eyebrow.  “And why is that, pray tell?”

“Because I’m not as shitty a friend as you clearly thought I was,” Owen says, ushering you through the door.  “Happy Birthday, asshole.”

You start to think of a witty retort, but then you step into the bungalow and it’s like the air has been stolen right out of your lungs.

There’s streamers hanging from the rafters, balloons tied to every piece of furniture, and a giant banner, clearly hand-painted, wishing you a happy birthday.  You turn to Owen, trying not to let him see just how big of grin you have on your lips.

“Owen,” you smile.  “This almost cancels out the fact that you just called me an asshole.  Almost.”

“I can’t win, can I?” Owen says, but you can hear the joking tone in his voice.  “I can’t believe you thought I forgot.”

“I didn’t think you forgot,” you reply.  “I just didn’t tell you, and so I assumed, like any normal person, that you didn’t know.”

“And I have to say, I’m a little insulted that you never told me,” Owen says, shaking his head.  “I’m like, your best friend.  Supposedly.”

“You are, without a doubt,” you grin.  “I just...I’ve never made a big thing out of my birthday.  But either way, there’s no way I thought you knew.”

“What, you think I don’t know how to check your Facebook profile?”

“My birthday isn’t on Facebook.”

“I know.  But you’ve got your mom listed on there, and she was more than happy to provide me with the date of your birth.”

“Tell me you didn’t talk to my mom.”

“I did.  She wanted to know why you don’t call more often.”

“Because she gives my birthday out to random strangers on the Internet, that’s why.”

“I mean, she didn’t just give it away.  I had to send her several photos of us to prove that I knew you.”

“Several?”

“She wanted to make sure they weren’t Photoshopped.”

“That makes me feel a little better.”

“So, anyways.  Why don’t you sit down on the couch and call your mom, and I’ll go start dinner?”

“You’re making me dinner?  What are you cooking, Top Ramen?”

“I’m a little hurt by that,” Owen says, fake-sniffling.  “And I’d like you to repeat that again, to my face, after you finish the amazing dinner I’m cooking up.”

“I’m sorry,” you toss back as you pull up your mom’s contact info.  “I didn’t mean to insult your Spaghetti-Os.”

Owen shakes his head at you and retreats back to the kitchen, leaving you to talk to your mother, who after a very hurried birthday greeting, proceeds to grill you on “that handsome young man who you should be dating.”

Within a half hour, you start to smell dinner.  Instantly recognizing the smell, you wrap up the call with your mom and head to the kitchen to confirm your suspicions.

“What is my mother’s lasagna doing in your oven?” you ask and Owen grins.  It’s then that you notice that he’s even got a little apron on and you can’t help the way your heart flip flops at the sight of Owen Grady, going domestic on you.

“Well, I asked her what I should cook for you,” Owen said.  “She was under the impression that this would be a hit.”

“She was correct,” you reply.  “That is, if it tastes anything like hers.”

“One can only hope,” Owen says.  “Otherwise, I wore this apron for nothing.”

-

An hour and four slices of lasagna later, you’re sitting at Owen’s dinner table, warm and full and trying not to fall even deeper in love with your best friend when he produces your mother’s pineapple upside-down cake, accompanied by a sexier-than-you’d-care-to-admit rendition of the Birthday Song.

“Ugh, you should have told me that you made that too,” you say, taking another slice in spite of yourself.  “Then I wouldn’t have eaten so much lasagna.  And of course, this is freaking perfect too.  You’re going to be the death of me, Owen Grady.”

Owen just sits there, smiling his perfect smile and you realize that for the first time in a while, you are both completely, genuinely happy.  Which only makes the smile on your face bigger.

“Thank you, Owen,” you say, grappling for the words to fully convey your emotion.  “I...this is the best birthday I’ve had in...a while.”

“Anything for you, sweetheart,” he says and you have to tear your eyes away from his before you do something stupid.

“Well, I’m just going to curl up on your couch now,” you say, dragging yourself to said couch and pulling the blankets over you.  “I don’t know if I can make it all the way back to my place.  This has been lovely, but it’s time for a food coma.”

“You haven’t even opened your presents,” Owen protests and you sit up quickly.

“You got me a present too?” you ask indignantly.  “Why would you do that?  You already cooked me food!  You have already surpassed the standard of birthday that I am used to.”

At that, Owen just grins again and grabs a bag from the floor.  He hands it to you, sliding onto the couch next to you.  You reach in and pull out three individually wrapped presents.  

“I don’t know what I’ve done in my life to deserve you,” you say.  “Order?”

“I numbered them,” Owen says.

“Organization,” you smile.  “You certainly know the way to my heart.” 

You open the first package and find a pair of dinosaur knee socks.  You squeal, pulling them onto your feet before proceeding.  The second package contains a small charm necklace with tiny raptor charms on it.  You can’t contain your smile as Owen helps you hook the necklace around your neck as you reach for the last package.

“So I’m sensing a general theme here,” you grin.  “Should I expect a dinosaur book?  Or maybe a wooden dinosaur puzzle?  I had one of those when I was a kid and I loved it so much.”

“Not quite,” Owen grins and as you tear the paper off, you realize that you couldn’t be more wrong.

“Is this...”  Owen nods and you gently push the paper off of the beautiful scrapbook.  On the cover is a photo of you and Owen, one of your favorites.  the two of you are standing on the catwalk above the paddock, you laughing at a joke Owen had just told you.  You grin at the memory as you flip open the book.

“You made this?” you gasp, as you run your fingers over the pictures and stickers and paper embellishments.  “You, Owen Grady, made this scrapbook?”

“There’s no need to be so amazed,” Owen says and you can’t help but look up at him in wonder.  

“Is there anything you can’t do?” you tease, thumbing through the pages.  “Because Owen, this is gorgeous.”

“Just like me,” he jokes weakly, as you continue to pore over the pages, a complete photographic record of your friendship.

Or maybe not.

As you turn to the last page, you hear a slight intake of breath from Owen.  With all the self-control in your body, you keep your eyes glued to the page, trying to keep a smirk from creeping onto your face.

The last page has your absolute favorite picture of the two of you, one of you two standing under the Jurassic Park sign, doing your best dinosaur impressions.  But it’s what’s just below the picture that gets your attention.

WILL YOU BE MY GIRLFRIEND? CHECK YES OR NO

“Do you have a pen, Owen?” you ask, still not making eye contact with him.

“Huh?” he asks.

“A pen?” you repeat.  “Never mind, I’ve got one.” “You can just-”

You pull the scrapbook into your lap, tilting it away from Owen as you carefully fill in one of the boxes.

“It’s really meant to be more of a checkmark.”  You roll your eyes and gently close the book, setting it on the table.

“Well?” Owen asks.  “Can I open it?”  You raise an eyebrow at Owen.

“If you know me at all, you won’t need to,” you smile and you see Owen’s face relax.  He reaches for you, his hands coming up to rest gently on your cheeks.

“Happy birthday,” he says, his lips hovering just inches from yours.

“Best one yet,” you smile, quickly closing the gap between the two of you.

[douchebagbrainwaves]

EVERY FOUNDER SHOULD KNOW ABOUT AGE

This plan collapsed under its own weight. To answer that we have to go back n paragraphs and start over in another direction. It seemed curious that the same task could be painful to one person and pleasant to another, but I resent being told what to do in an essay about color or baseball. And for these releases, the mere fact of which seemed to us evidence of their backwardness, they would get confused and click on the browser's Back button. And the things I had to choose between two theories, prefer the one that doesn't center on you. Actually it isn't. Ditto for the idea of reusability got attached to object-oriented programming offers a sustainable way to write spaghetti code. -10x more succinct than C, and this is one reason intranet software will continue to thrive, even though it wasn't an online store builder, with about 14,000 users. No one actually proposed implementing numbers as lists in practice. You can block off several hours for a single task if you need to use them?

Be nice. Arbitrarily declaring such a border would have constrained our design choices. If software moves off the desktop and onto servers, what I'm describing here is the future of web startups will if anything increase the importance of startup hubs. It will be argued that it is designed by product managers, they'll never be able to have your application bundled with the OS. I had to do the same for every language, so they don't affect comparisons much. Are there zero users who really love you, or is close enough that you're better off aiming for the solid target of brevity than the fuzzy, nearby one of least work. What does it feel like to program in now.

So are hackers, I think it is. Then you've sunk to a whole bunch simultaneously. It's still a very weak form of disagreement is that it has made it easier to learn to program by looking at them. So you'd only want to talk to other people doesn't seem like work to you, the more time they'll spend in meetings negotiating how their software will work together, and the macro is itself ten lines of code. The way people act is just as misleading. Mark Zuckerberg, the kind of essay I thought I was going to take two weeks to write few projects took longer, I knew I could see the effect in the software as soon as it does now. So you can just turn off the service. There are two problems with this, though.

So you can just confess that you're inexperienced at fundraising—which is always a safe card to play—and you feel you have to pay for might as well stop there. They wanted yellow. Gone were the mumbling recitations of lists of features. Unfortunately the distinction between acceptable and forbidden topics is usually based on how the case looks. The weekend before the demo day for potential investors ten weeks in, and go home. It was written by two guys working in an attic, and yet needs to meet multiple times before making up his mind, has very low expected value. When friends came back from faraway places, it wasn't just out of politeness that I asked them about their trip. The 2005 summer founders ranged in age from 18 to 28 average 23, and there was a type of programmer who would only put five or ten lines of code every time you use it, and they're thus able to excuse themselves by saying that they haven't had time to make a platform that startups will build on, they have to behave well. There is a kind of a deadline. I've found that the best ones.

But most young hackers have neither. All we ask from those on the manager's schedule you can do about this conundrum, so the best plan is to go for the smaller customers first. When technology makes something dramatically cheaper, standardization always follows. A, that will make most of them are bad: Object-oriented abstractions. The result is to damp extremes. When there is some real external test of skill, it isn't painful to be at the bottom like a pear. If you have an idea for a new feature in the morning, you can watch them learn by doing.

There's obviously the direct cost in time, there's the cost in fragmentation—breaking people's day up into bits too small to be useful. When they sign a termsheet, they want to be popular, certainly, but as a predictor of success it's rounding error compared to what they pick up on their own projects. As I was waiting to hear back, I found that what the teacher wanted us to do was grow that core incrementally. That's where you can read the beginning of a trend: desktop computers won because startups wrote software for them. Viaweb, as at many software companies, especially at the beginning of a trend: desktop computers won because startups wrote software for them. People have been talking about parallel computation as something imminent for at least 20 years, and it seems like no one cares, look more closely. It was the usual story: he'd drop out if it looked like the startup was taking off.

Viaweb, software included fairly big applications that users talked to directly, programs that tried to restart things if they broke, programs that ran occasionally to compile statistics or build indexes for searches, programs we ran explicitly to garbage-collect resources or to move or restore data, programs that those programs used, programs that those programs used, programs that those programs used, programs that tried to restart things if they broke, programs that ran occasionally to compile statistics or build indexes for searches, programs we ran explicitly to garbage-collect resources or to move or restore data, programs that ran constantly in the background looking for problems, programs that tried to restart things if they broke, programs that ran constantly in the background looking for problems, programs that those programs used, programs that pretended to be users to measure performance or expose bugs, programs for diagnosing network troubles, programs for doing backups, interfaces to outside services, software that drove an impressive collection of dials displaying real-time server statistics a hit with visitors, but indispensable for us too, modifications including bug fixes to open-source movement is that it will make conversations better, but that there be few of them. They ask whatever it is they're asking in such a cavalier fashion. Phrased that way, it doesn't sound good at all. So it may not even be meaningful to say that you never have to release software immediately is a big motivator. Most of these changes will be for bad guys too. Sometimes I even make a conscious effort to insulate the other founder s from the details of the process. It's to see whether you'd be a suitable recipient for the size of users' data well, nothing easy, we knew we might as well spend it working on something like the natural history of computers—studying the behavior of algorithms for routing data through networks, for example, seems to be how startups work. Ironically, though open source and blogging suggests, you'll enjoy it more, even if you do it. In another conversation he told me that what he liked about my essays was that they weren't written the way we'd been taught to write essays in school.

There was some initial resistance, but it didn't last long. If someone had told me that, as with the apparent laziness of people this age. After all, a Web 2. But in fact there will be zero. When a piece of cake in the fridge, and you learn things you'd never say face to face meetings. In the summer of 1995, my friend Rich and I made a point of exerting less. As one of the best things about working for a big company, and it could require interpretation in the case of prosecutors, it probably isn't, it tended to pervade the atmosphere of early universities. And anything you come across that surprises you, who've thought about the question right. But I think this principle would also apply to sites with different origins. And so all over the country, students are writing not about how a baseball team with a small budget might compete with the Yankees, or the productivity of programmers gets measured in lines of code, then you only have a small number of winners early and then supporting them for years to a strategy of spraying money at early stage startups and then ruthlessly culling them at the same rate. We encourage every startup to measure their progress by weekly growth rate. If our competitor had done that, the last time a new way of delivering software appeared.

[tenseoyong]

NCT as Horror Movie character stereotypes

Taeil: the weird little nerd guy you expect to just accidentally fall off a cliff but somehow manages to turn some sticks and a string in his pocket into a trap for the thing chasing them. saves the day. gets the hot barbie girl in the end

Hansol: that one guy that gets revealed to be the killer and you’re like ‘tf he was there the entire time! how!?’ and you rewatch the movie and realized he disappeared after the first 3 minutes

Johnny: the big tough guy that logically would be the one that would survive but is really slow and gets fucked up by a zombie but doesn’t tell the group he’s been bit until his skins falling off 

Taeyong: the attractive nerd that is immediately put in charge when shit got real. makes sure everyone eats. doesn’t know how to stab someone tho. nearly gets killed every time something happens but gets saved by his buddy.

Yuta: the buddy. the dickhead everyone kinda wants to trip and get jumped by Jason but he just keeps on goin and survives the whole film unscratched. massive douche but is redeemed by saving everyone in the end miraculously 

Doyoung: the complainer. whines about the shitty food and places they have to stay in when its literally an apocalypse outside rn. dies half way through the movie trying to grab a can of spaghetti-os while zombies are breaking down the door

Ten: weird, nature dude. lives in the city but somehow knows exactly what berries will kill you in 2 minutes and how to track and hunt. no one questions how city boy knows it but yeah. really good hunter. basically Daryll. 

Jaehyun: the second buddy. comedian dude. cant shut up to save his life. keeps attracting zombies with his loud ass mouth, but hes the one making sure yall dont have a mental break down over the end of the world. dies last minute of the movie after the final comedic break. rip.

WinWin: basically the baby. little brother of one of the group. got dragged along and now hes trapped with yall while the world falls apart. doesnt really talk. doesnt really do much. kinda just a lap dog that you cant really get rid of. 

Mark: Little nerd boy no one knows how he got in the group. he’s not a friend or a family member. he was just there one day. no one questioned it. just accepts it. the groups secret weapon, uses his cute lil face to persuade people to give him supplies. really good fisher. on fishing duty 99% of the time.

Haechan: tiny buddy. mark n him go hand in hand. practically brothers. mark brought him back to the group one day. no one questions it. nearly gets killed on the daily but mark always got his back. only job is putting worms on mark’s hook. basically a puppy.

[astoldbyacertifiedunicorn]

Try by Colbie Callait

SONG 5 

I know I haven’t written for some time, I’m sorry I got sick and I want to also thank the lovely anons who said nice things bout the last OS. Tumblr is fixing my ask box, so I’m sorry I haven’t thanked you personally yet. Slight warning, that this fic deal with insecurities as an issue and I just want to recognize two things, (1) April as a character has grown and her insecurities aren’t the same anymore - so this is AU, based around s8/9, and she doesn’t fail her boards nor have active battle with her religion. (2) Everyone’s journey with nsecurities are dfferent. This is based on my understanding how insecurities work, I’m sorry if anything is offensive. 

Put your make up on, get your nails done

Curl your hair 

Run the extra mile, keep it slim

So they like you.

Do they like you?

April's not really sure how exactly she convinced herself to work up the nerve to do what she was about to do, but somehow here she was. She nervously fidgets around, pulls on her clothes, tidies up her sweater, and picks invisible linen from her pants. She straightens out her hair and places the curls gently on the shoulders. He'll be here in the attending' lounge soon. She'd made a quick check with him this morning in the on call room, to check what time he was off.

She wasn't really sure when this whole sleeping together thing became their thing, but here they were, holed up in the on call rooms of the hospital, everyday, sometimes twice a day. She wasn't complaining. Of course not, that wasn't what this was about. Never in her most optimistic dreams did April ever expect someone like Jackson to want a.... whatever it is they were, with someone like her.

As the years went by, and having only had one boy in high school who'd taken her to the carnival and dumped her the next day because she was too 'enthusiastic' and 'didn't know how to chill' and a college boyfriend who'd called her a 'prude' because she'd made it clear to him she was waiting until marriage, expectations of any kind of love dwindled down. She guesses she's lucky she even has the kind of relationship she has with Jackson. She shouldn't, couldn't, expect more.

Some little girls, herself included, dream of white weddings, and sweet boys who'd love them and babies and white picket fence houses. The sad reality, April came to know as an adult is society will rise to the occasion to make sure that some of these little girls know, as they grow up, that there are a few shortcomings with them, that might make this dream impossible.

She was scrawny, had fizzy hair, braces, acne and pigeon toes. Apparently, boys liked only a particular image she'd never be capable of looking like. So, when she was old enough, she promised herself she'd try her hardest to look like that. Maybe then, someone would love her. So she runs every morning, goes to yoga on the weekends and swims every other day. She dyes her hair red, and uses a tirade of products, so that she always had long locks of shiny, bouncy hair. She fixes her teeth, and gets her braces off, and spends a fortune to get rid of the acne and torturously wears a leg brace for a year to and goes to ballet to get rid of the pigeon toes. She looks a lot different now than what she did. She's still not perfect, she still refuses to look in the mirror and call herself beautiful nor does she expect anyone else to call her beautiful. She'd settle for 'not bad looking' any day.

It doesn't work. Turns out, they tell her, it's not just the way she looks, it's her personality as well. She's annoying, neurotic, crazy, difficult to like. Her colleagues take the time out of their day to remind her that she doesn't measure up. There's something different about her they find hard to relate to. They let her know her voice is grating and her presence is unwelcome. She misses Reed in those moments, the only person to ever fully accept her, but she's happy she at least has Jackson, that is until he tells her she be ashamed that she's still a virgin. She never thought he'd feel that way, out of everyone else. She wasn't sure how to go about explaining to them that she didn't  want to lose her virginity in a one night stand, that even if it wasn't after marriage, at the very least to would be to a man who loved her. She wasn't sure how to let them know that it doesn't come easy for some people. They're beautiful, and smart, and interesting. They're not her. They don't understand what it's like to love without being loved back, to lust endlessly, to convince yourself you're happier alone, to convince yourself to let go of any dreams  because you need to start being realistic. So she calls them out, and feels a rush when Meredith tells her she's starting like her more and more.

"Hey, I thought you were off an hour ago?"

Her thoughts get interrupted by the very person she'd been waiting for. She turns around to see Jackson walking towards her, and leaning down to kiss her. She kisses him back, and holds him there for a second, because sometimes she still can't believe this is real. She's still waiting for him to tell her this was an elaborate prank, that it was all a joke.

"Um, I was waiting for you." She says, as he pulls back, and starts to change.

"Yeah?"

"I... um, wanted to ask you something?"

He nods, pulling on his shirt.

She's not sure how to go about it now that she's here. She practiced it in front of the mirror a million times, and she's been imagining doing this for a good week now. She just needed to find the surge of unusual confidence she had yesterday and blurt it out.

"Will, uh, w-okay, so.... I was wondering if, you-I.... was thinking, well-" She's stuttering and it's not attractive. She can already tell that she's making a fool out of herself, and that this was a terrible idea. She just couldn't appreciate what she had couldn't she? She just couldn't be satisfied with only sleeping with him, could she?

"April?" He asks her, seemingly slightly amused at her reluctance.

She takes a deep breath, reminds herself the pep talk she gave herself. She deserved more, she deserved more, she deserved more. And if he said no, well, she'd settle for what they have, and love him until he left her for someone better. Then she'd try not to let it kill her.

"Will you go on a date with me?"

Get your sexy on, don't be shy, girl

Take it off

This is what you want, to belong

So they like you.

Do you like you?

Her eyes widen the moment it's out there, her pulse beats faster and she's feels a steady fluttering in her stomach. She waits for him to recognize what she's saying, register it and...

Laugh. He was laughing. A lot. She felt tears prick the back of her eyes. Stupid, stupid, stupid. In what mental state did she let herself believe she had any chance being in an actual relationship with him. Someone so perfect in so many ways. God, she'd never felt this stupid in her whole life. Jackson dated women like Lexie. Gorgeous, intelligent, interesting, likable. Not.... her. In what universe would he have to settle for someone like.... her. She quickly chokes back a sob that threatens at her throat, her face contorting painfully to a forced smiled.

"You don't- you don't have to... I mean, I was just asking. It's so dumb, I know." She forces herself to laugh with him, hoping he can't hear the devastation in her voice.

"What? No. No, April," Jackson says, his laughter dying down, and a smile settling on his face, "Its not that I don't want to, it's just.... it's not that."

"Oh." She blinks. Was he....

"I'd really like for you to take me out, yes." He winks, and chuckles once more.

Her heart soars and for a second she's dumbstruck. She was prepared for a rejection, gone through the thousand of ways he would say no, but she wasn't prepared for him to agree to this. Maybe, he was entertaining her, finding this whole thing amusing, but it was a chance. She could recognize an opportunity to impress when she saw one. She could convince him, that she was worth giving a shot. Maybe she wasn't a lot of things, but she could make up for all her shortcomings. She just wanted a chance to prove that to him.

"Okay! Um, great! That's great!" She squeals, and realsies that she should probably tone it down a little bit. He'll probably get scared off by her enthusiasm.

"I'll pick you up at 8... or are you going to be the one doing that?" He grins.

"I.... I'll do it," She's the one who needs to impress him, not the other way around.

He laughs again, and picks up his bag, "Okay."

She nods, and he squeezes her hand and walks away.

She's on cloud 9, and she can't screw this up.

Get your shopping on, at the mall,

Max your credit cards

You don't have to choose, buy it all

So they like you.

Do they like you?

She's happy their date falls on a Sunday when she has a half day at work. It gives her time to rush to the mall and try to put herself together. She doesn't really have any girlfriends. She's not close to Meredith all that much and Cristina isn't the type to hand out advice. She wants a different look, she decides. Her sweater, jeans and flats combo isn't cute, and definitely nothing like what the girls he dates dresses.

She decides on a tight, short red dress with spaghetti straps that hugs her body. She looks awkward, since she doesn't carry it well, and it makes her cry in the changing room for a second, because she's ridiculous for thinking she could pull off looking sexy, until the sales assistance asks if she needs help. She buys a pair of heels that makes her toes ache, but she's not going to wear flats with this dress.

She gets ready, gets herself prepared. Runs the mascara wand through her lashes, applies the red lipstick. She pulls on a curl, so it falls from the neat bun on her head, and now she hopes it looks more effortless. She doesn't think she looks too bad. Yet, the more she appraises herself the more she realizes that's not true. She stares at herself long enough for her to give in and realize this is the best she got.

She picks up the keys and decides to head out, when she hears the doorbell ring. She looks slightly confused and goes to open, a little shocked when she sees Jackson on the other side.

"Jackson?" She asks, eyebrow raised, wondering what he was doing here, since she was supposed to be picking him up.

"Hey, Ap-" He begins, but his eyes rove over her, and she takes a second before blushing furiously. Maybe her efforts paid off.

"Oh."

She blinks, and looks at him, and his face looks.... disappointed? She wasn't sure, but it had to be. Nobody had a positive "oh" reaction. Her face falls, and there's a heaviness in her chest that she pushes down. It's fine, she thinks, beauty isn't one of her strengths. She didn't know what she was expecting. For him to say she was beautiful? Maybe. He's never said it before. Sure, she knew that for whatever reason it was, he was turned on by her, but he'd never really called her beautiful. She didn't think it was the same thing.

"That bad, huh?" She jokes.

"Wha- oh no, April, sorry I'm just... its very different from.... Never mind, you look-"

"I'm just kidding, Jackson." She forces a laugh, because she's even sadder he feels the need to explain himself to her, when really, she gets it. She just thought she'd give it a shot.

"You look really handsome." She tells him, and bites her lip. He looked gorgeous as he always does. She suddenly felt herself shrinking. She was way out of her depth here. This man was so far out of her league, she couldn't even comprehend how she thought he'd want something other than a physical relationship with her.

"Thank you," He smiles, and holds his hand out, a massive bouquet of flowers, "This is for you."

It's all her favorites, and she feels so happy that he remembers. Very few people do.

"Thank you, they're so pretty." She takes them from him, a little surprised that he'd bought them in the first place.

"Ready?" He asks her, and she nods, "So, where to?"

She gulps, and recoups, decides that she's going to give it her all, and to do that, she needed to start believing in herself.

"That's a surprise," She teases him, her eyes twinkling, and he smirks.

"Oh yeah? Is it that way?" He nods towards the bedroom, and she stills for a second.

"Um, su-sure. We could- we could stay and.... of course. Here let me just-" She starts to turn around and go back to the room, her heart clenching knowing it was stupid to assume otherwise. She was sex, that was all.

"April, no, no, I'm kidding. It's a joke. Look, are you okay? You're acting a little..." He says, but stops himself, shaking his head, "Let's go, come on."

He smiles, and holds his arm out to her, and she tentatively places it against his, "Okay."

Wait a second,

Why should you care, what they think of you

When you're all alone, by yourself

Do you like you?

Do you like you?

They sit in a restaurant, and she feels a little unfamiliar with the setting. Sure, they've dined out together before, as friends, but the awareness that they were on a date made it difficult to relax. She saw people's gaze fall on them, and she can almost feel the judgement seeping through. What's he doing with her? What could possibly be wrong with him that he'd have to settle for her?

"April? You hate Thai food." Jackson says, once they're seated and their menus handed out to them.

"I don't think hate is the word I'd use," She says, although her eyes scan the menu with caution.

"It's too spicy for you, you'll get sick." He comments.

"No I won't," Although it happened once, and she knows that's why he's bringing it up, "Plus, you said you were craving it."

He grins, "You have a great memory bank, you know that. You remember everything!"

"I do!" She grins, "I perfected it back in the farm so I always remembered how many eggs each hen had."  

He laughs, and she relaxes, slightly. They were best friends. Conversation was something she could do.  

It goes smoothly, until she hears two girls snickering in the background, and she turns her head and meets their gaze. They quickly look away, but it doesn't take a genius to figure out what they're saying.

She gazes back at him, and he's unaffected, telling her a some story about him and Alex, and brushing his leg up hers. She smiles, tries to be in the moment.

They laugh again, and she wants them to stop. To leave her alone. She also feels bad. For Jackson. She wants to turn around and apologize to him, that being with her in public is a nightmare for him. I'm sorry, she thinks, you shouldn't have to be seen with me.

After dinner, she asks for the bill, but gets told it's already taken care of.

"I'm not letting you pay." He tells her, rolling his eyes.

"But it's my date."

He ignores her question, and turns to her, "Where to next?"

"Miniature golf!" She exclaims, and pulls his hand and he follows her out, "It's the number 1 most recommended date activity."

"Did you google this?" He teases her, and slings an arm around her waist.

"Yes, I did, actually." She admits, and shrugs her shoulders. She didn't know what a good date was on instinct.

You don't have to try so hard

You don't have to bend until you break

You just have to get up, get up, get up, get up

You don't have to change a single thing

You don’t have try, try , try 

"Did you have a good time?"

He walked her up to her apartment, and followed her inside out of habit, closing the door behind him.

"Hm, oh yeah. It was great." He smiles, his hands in his jeans.

What now? April wonders. Does she ask him if he'd like to do it again sometime? Is she expected to say something? Is he going to say it?

"Um, April, listen, about tonight...." He begins, scratching his neck, walking towards her.

She sighs, knowing rejection when she hears it. She really did give it her all, tonight, tried to be the best version of herself. She spoke less, was a lot more nonchalant when it came to things and managed to keep her voice at a lower octave. This was the best version of herself, but it wasn't enough, it seemed. She tried so hard, she tried her best, and she stepped far out of every comfort zone she knew, to do it.

"I know," She smiles, hoping her voice doesn't break, "It's fine, really, you don't have to. I... we can still," she gestures to the bedroom, "if you want."

"Oh, I do... it's just, what exactly do you know?"

"You don't want to date me," She shrugs, biting her lip hard, not not cry. It was embarrassing enough she thought she could pull it off, she didn't need to cry about it, "I get it, really I do. I just, I don't know, wanted to convince you I wasn't just good for sex."

"April, what the hell makes you think I think you're just good for sex? I'm your best friend. Do you think I'd ever stoop low enough to see you as just this sex object that I can sleep with whenever I want to. Is that what you think?"

He sounds angry, and she's a little taken aback. She wasn't insulting him, of course not, she was just pointing out the obvious. She wasn't sure why he couldn't understand that.

"No, no. I don't. You're wonderful. You wouldn't... that's not what I meant. I meant-"

He doesn't let her finish because he's slightly fuming, and she's a little worried now.

"And what makes you think I don't want to date you? I-" He stops pacing, and looks up at her, "You asked me out because you thought all I wanted from you was sex?"

He looks so hurt, it breaks her heart.

She nods, "I didn't think you would want to... date me."

"April, why-why the hell would you think that?" He asks her, eyes wide.

"Um, I... I'm not like the other girls."

"Other girls?"

"The ones boys like."

"April....." He whispers, and she feels him walking towards her. He sits down on the couch and takes her hand, pulling him to the seat next to her, "I was confused abouttonight, because, I don't know, you were acting so unlike yourself. You were quiet, and strangely calm, I was just confused. It was like this different person."

"I wanted to be less...." Her voice trails off, as she drops her gaze to her lap.

"Less what?"

"Less me."

He sighs, and puts her stray curl behind her ear, "April, I really like you. You! Not whoever this person is. These clothes, the way you've been acting, it's not you. I just wanted to go to on a date with my smart, kinda, funny, gorgeous best friend."

She darts her head towards him, eyes wide, "G-gorgeous?"

"Ofcourse you are, why would you- I've never said that before have I?" He waits for her to nod, and groans deeply, running a hand over his face, "I'm an idiot."

"What? No you're not, Jackson. You-"

"No, don't defend me, please. I'm an idiot. I'm the asshole who was to afraid to ask you out so I made you feel like complete crap instead. I'm the guy who sleeps with his best friend and never told her how devastatingly beautiful she was, and acted like all she was good for was sex. Don't defend that guy, April." He looks away from her, but she can see how guilty he is.

She never meant for him to beat himself down, that had never been her intention. But something he'd said had struck a chord with April, and it made her perk up.

"Did you just say... you were too afraid to ask me out?" She wanted to laugh. What did he have anything to be insecure about?

"That's why I laughed in the morning. God, you probably thought- Nevermind. I just found it funny because, I didn't think you'd want to date me." He shrugs, and she can't help but laugh loudly, throwing her head back against the couch.

"Why the heck wouldn't I date you?" She was really starting to think he was pranking her.

"You're too good for me," Jackson tells her, "God, I mean April, you're perfect. You're this beautiful, intelligent, incredible person. You're so well adjusted, and normal. You don't have abandonment issues or a family that think all you're good at is being pretty. You don't have walls to intentionally keep people out, and you don't have a problem putting your heart out there, because your strong enough to deal with rejection. You're.... amazing, and you can do- you deserve so much more than I can ever give you."

She doesn't say anything for a while, because she's not sure how to respond to all this. Never, in all the time they spent together, has she ever considered the possibility of Jackson having insecurities. He's perfect in her eyes, and she's not merely speaking of his looks. Sure, he was stubborn, and had a mean streak, but he was still perfect to her. She couldn't believe he'd think so.... low of himself. The hypocrisy didn't go unnoticed by her.

"No, Jackson. No, my god, how could you even think that," She kneels before him, and takes his face into her hands, turning his gaze away from the floor to focus on hers, "I... I'm the one who doesn't deserve you, that's why I did all this."

"You were always perfect to me, April. Way before all this. When you were just my best friend, and I didn't even consider anything more, you were still perfect. You were this slightly annoying, neurotic, but crazy smart, and beautiful mess," He takes her in for a slight second, "Perfect."

She blushes, and it takes her a time to grasp all the things he's saying. He likes the things she hates so much about herself. He doesn't like her despite it, but also because of it.

"I don't care about all the stupid things you think I care about," April replies, hoisting herself up on to his lap. She places her hands on his shoulders, and his hands curls themselves perfectly around her waist, "A parent did something terrible to you, and that's not something you just get over, I don't expect you to. I like you just fine, all stubborn and grumpy."

He cracks a smile at that, "I'm damaged goods, April. You deserve shiny and new."

"Do not ever say you're damaged. You just have a lot of hurt in your heart, and I don't want you to ever feel guilty for that. It does not make you damaged, or broken or whatever slew of adjectives I know is running through your head right now. Okay?"

He nods, although she can tell he's not utterly convinced, "Okay."

She sighs, knowing that all the issues Jackson had weren't going to solved suddenly just became she says so. Some of it he has to deal with himself.

"Come on." He tells her, standing up, and in the process carrying her in his arms, bridal style.

Take your make up off

Let your hair down

Take a breath

Look into the mirror, at yourself

Don't you like you?

She squeals a bit when he gently deposits her onto the bed of her room, and wanders off to her bathroom without a word. He's been to her place before, they were...are best friends, and if she was paying enough attention, possibly more than that. He comes out, carrying a container and she squints her eyes to see what it is.

"Are those makeup wipes?" She questions, raising a brow. What was he doing?

"Yep." He says, "You look gorgeous, with or without makeup, although I personally prefer you without it, it doesn't really matter what I prefer. If you like wearing makeup because it's fun, and artsy and you just like spending $35 on an eyeliner, be my guest. But if you're wearing it because you think I mind seeing your freckles, and dark under eyes, and acne scars, then you really have no reason to wear it."

He takes out a wipe, slowly running it across her face. She's a little dumbfounded, because this is really the last thing she'd thought he was ever going to do. He takes his time, and soon, it's all off and he runs a wet towel across her face.

"There.... just as perfect." He smiles, kissing the tip of her nose.

She giggles, and is honestly unsure what to do about this turn of events.

"Okay, next comes the dress. Hands up," He instructs her, and she does as he says, and he pulls it off of her, "This is gorgeous, you look amazing in it, that's what I was going to say earlier before you cut me off. But it's also not you. I have a feeling you wore it to impress me, and it's sweet, really, but you don't have to. I like you in a potato sack."

She laughs, and shakes her head at him, "I'd look horrible in a potato sack, it's totally not my colour."

He chuckles at her horrible attempt at a joke, "What? Muddy brown would look great on you!"

They laugh together while Jackson manages to take off the shoes that had been giving her an insane amount of pain all night. He takes a foot in his hand, and it's red and slightly swollen and she sees him wince.

"Okay, never, wear these again," He throws the pair across the room, almost as if it's their fault she's hurt,"I love your cat ear flats."

"You think they're ridiculous." She points out.

"Ridiculously cute." He retorts.

She makes a promise to go back and get her money, she's more than happy to trade those in for some nice, low heels.

"I mean, I'm not complaining about these," He winks, running a finger on top of the red lace lingerie she bought just for tonight.

She blushes furiously, and feels a highly self conscious when she realizes that he's never seen her under this harsh light. She brings her hands up to her body, folds into herself.

He notices, "Oh no you don't, come on," he pushes her arms out of the way and smiles to himself, "You are incredibly sexy, you know that. It's kinda why I haven't been able to get my thoughts straight for one second."

"Jackson, what are you doing?" She asks him, now slightly exasperated with his behavios. She didn't need him feeling guilty about not having said these things before. Or worse, saying them out of pity.

"Right now? Choosing between your bunny PJs and the unicorn ones," He's holding up two different pairs, glancing between them, "Bunny! It's better than the rainbow vomit explosion you've got going here."

He tosses her unicorn pajamas on the bed, and walks up to her. She holds her arms out, and he begins to dress her, concentrating on his task.

"Jackson? You didn't answer my question." She points out, as he pulls the pants over her hips.

"Adorable. Now you're just missing bunny ears." He grins.

"Jackson!" She huffs frustratedly, crossing her arms in front of her.

"I'm trying to show you that this is the girl I slept with in San Francisco, and wanted to continue sleeping with after that. Not whoever it is you feel you have to be to impress me or some shit," He pulls her on her feet, and takes her hair out of her bun, running his hands through the freed curls, "I think you're gorgeous at 10 in the night, after a long shift, in bunny pajamas and no makeup. Do you know why?"

She shakes her head.

"It's because this is you, April. I like you. This you. The real you. You don't have to try so damn hard to make me like you, because I like you just fine in your most natural habitat. You're my best friend. I've always liked you, just like this. You don't have to try. Not for me, not for anyone. You just have to be."

She feels tears threaten to fall, but she holds them back up, because she doesn't want him to misinterpret it. Out of all the things he'd told her tonight, that had been the most special. No one has ever in her life told her that she didn't have to try her hardest, bend over backwards, to be liked. That it was enough that she just was herself. He wasn't excusing her, he wasn't denying that she was crazy sometimes and a little neurotic, he was saying it didn't matter because it made her... her, and there was nothing wrong with that. She beamed.

"You're the best best friend anyone could ask for." She tells him, and he laughs.

"We sound like we're 13. I feel like I should go and make you a friendship bracelet." He jokes.

"Well, I actually do have beads and yarn." She tells him, her eyes gleaming.

"Uh, why not?" He shrugs and sits down on the bed, after taking his tie off, and pulling down a couple of buttons.

She brings everything and sets it up on her bed. They begin their tasks, Jackson surprising her with his excellent technique. She figures it has something to do with being a plastic surgeon.

"Hey, Jackson?" She says, and he looks up  at her, "This is the best date I've ever had."

He smiles, and leans forward, "Me too. Wanna do it again sometime?"

Her breath falls short, and it takes her a moment to realize that everything she worried about was for nothing. She needed to work on her insecurities. She knew that. But he gave her a reason to. She didn't suddenly feel perfect, just because he said she was. But, she wanted to. One day. She wanted to because she didn't want to feel like she had to be anything but herself anymore to impress someone. She wanted to because she didn't want to feel like she had to impress someone in the first place.

"I'd love that." She says, and kisses him softly on the lips.

"Now quit distracting me," He waved her off, and falls back down on the bed, "My one is going to be way prettier."

She chuckles, and grins to herself. She needed to be kind to herself, and love herself more. For her, and for him.

Cause I like you

Thank you for reading!

Side Note:I hope none of you wonderful human beings ever have to feel like this. <3