#please feel free to nicely correct my grammar if it's wrong.

[sparkledfirecracker]

Deeds For The Big Screen

I see writing as a form of creative artwork with everyone having its own liking or preference to it.

Do not interact if you are uncomfortable with any of the given warnings or if you are a minor. 

Your media consumption is your own responsibility, proceed to read with care. Warnings have been up and mentioned, if I missed any please feel free to let me know. 

Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, explicit language, sexwork, porn industry, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, oral receiving (f), swearing

Rating: explicit

Pairing: Ari Levinson x Female Reader

Summary: You’re taking power into your hands when your actors don’t seem to do their job and are wasting expensive production time.

Word count: 3006

 A/N: This might be a little rusty, I haven’t done this in a while, but some creators have inspired me to pick up writing again! Fairly new to Tumblr, despite having an account for years and having done zero with it. Apparently me dreaming about different story ideas has become a thing now. So bear with me here. As said; if I missed any warnings please feel free to let me know.

@punani​ ’s ‘The Fluffer’ was inspiration for the chosen work field. So thank you for writing that magnificent piece.

English is not my native language; my grammar mistakes are purely my own. Constructive criticism is allowed and appreciated, I won’t bite unless you’re being rude.

I do not consent to have my work copied, reposted or translated on any other platform. Reposts on any given platform have been reposted without my permission or consent. By reading this, you agree that you are at least 18 years old!!!

Please do feel free to comment, like or reblog.

ENJOY!!!

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Deeds For The Big Screen

Irritation bubbling underneath your annoyed expression, your lips tightly pressed together. Fingernails tapping aggressively on the armrests of your director’s chair. Your legs crossed, bouncing with frustration at the sight in front of you. It seemed liked the actors onsite were on a mission to make everyone’s life on set hell. Your hands grabbing the armrests your knuckles white from the intense grip of the edges of your chair.

You were a visionaire, adultery was your passion, you had been in the business for year before starting your own company. Focusing on the female friendlier porn demand had paid of well for you, your company was your pride and you thrived on the success. You ran a tight ship, time was money and currently both actors were wasting every second of it. The current creative project was not being envisioned at all. It had been meticulously drawn out on a storyboard, it seemed like everything that had been discussed and rehearsed was thrown out the window.

You let out an annoyed huff, it had been hours on end anything between action and cut. Your million-dollar superstar was propped on his elbows towering over the fragile body underneath him. His hips franticly pumping in and out of the actress underneath him, who was clawing her nails into his skin desperately. Was he really the problem or was it the useless woman caged underneath him. Her super loud moans that probably could be heard at the other side of the world and the quantity of clawing at his skin.

 “CUT!!!” you yelled and everyone in the production stopped, heavy sighs heard across the studio. Your hands rubbed your face slightly not wanting to yell or lose control of the raging thoughts running through your mind.

“What’s wrong this time?” your most prized possession asked, the annoyance clearly dripping of his tone. He stood up facing you, his hands falling to his hips, sticking out his chest while his thick muscle stood proud against his pelvis. You couldn’t help but take in the sight, his cock was red and he was painfully hard. You licked your lips and took in a deep breath, trying to refocus on your thoughts.

“Alright let me make myself very clear here. The crew is TIRED and I am tired of fucking repeating myself” you took another deep breath as you felt anger rising “was I not clear enough when we had a table read yesterday and when we rehearsed this morning?” your eyes switching between the actors. No response “An answer would be nice, because that storyboard on the wall contains every movement of where body parts go during every fucking scene”

“Get the fuck out Y/N, you know storyboards only contains the major outlines of a grand story being told, it is different when you are pumping in and out of a body you know. You don’t always get to choose where a hand, leg or cock lands”

“Ari, we are in the god forsaken porn industry, that thick throbbing dick better end up in the fucking dripping vagina, between her lips or even in that nice and tight puckered hole” you could hear a few supressed snickers from the crew. Ari just kept staring you down “Right now all I see is stiffness, no passion, no fire and absolutely nothing that was on the fucking board or script”

“Whatever Y/N” Ari huffed, you rolled your eyes breaking the tension that was clearly building between you and Ari. You turned your gaze to Edie, who just sat there uncomfortably.

“Edie, can you just tone down on the moans, I know this is your first gig and a step up from the amateur adultery films you have done, but we are not in the cheap kind of porn. This is exclusive, sensual and soft sex. We make porn for the ladies and if it happens that men love it too so be it-” you clapped your hands together trying to get through to the actors in front of you “Also ease up on your facial expressions too they are just too much and stop clawing at Ari, we are not feral wolves in the outskirts of woodsy valley…” you pointed at her, the hostility evident in your voice, she just nodded your way she almost looked too scared to speak. Your attention turned to Ari, just by looking at him you knew he wouldn’t be able to take a lot more of your antics “-And for you mister, I need more open posture. We want to see those muscles work underneath that toned skin of yours. Flex them a little, you want the person watching this to drool from their mouths while their vaginas or arseholes are begging for your majestic cock. Yes, we can do this all rough and tough, but with this project we want fire, passion and mind-blowing sex. Understood?”

Both pornstars nodded your way and you sat back down in your chair. The actors taking their spots again, you raised your hand, cues being called across the room.

“ACTION!” Edie tried her utter best to contain her excessive sounds, but she looked like she was about to take a dump “CUT!”

“Y/N, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Ari yelled, jumping of the small platform, grabbing his robe from the floor, storming your way while putting on his robe, you got off your chair.

“Is it really that hard to do what I am asking? Edie you look like you are about to take a dump right in front of the camera” you lost control of the anger that had been boiling inside of you. Ari bumped into you, almost knocking you down, it must have been on purpose as you could sense his anger “where the fuck do you think you are going?” he spun on his heels

“I have been edged for hours on end, I need some form of release and it looks like our director is not going to let us get any release for a few more hours” Ari spat your way

“GET BACK HERE!!” you definitely lost control, watching Ari on a mission to march out of the studio “ARI I SAID GET BACK HERE”

“I AM NOT YOUR FUCKING A DOG!!!”

“YOU ARE MY FUCKING TOP DOLLAR DOG, SO YOU BETTER GET THE FUCK BACK BEFORE I FIRE YOU MYSELF” it was true, Ari was your million-dollar star, your company couldn’t have grown without him. He had been there from the beginning, you had him to thank for the success of your company and in return he had you to thank for his stardom.

Your words had made Ari stop in his tracks and turn around, the temperature in the room increasing quickly. You had started to doubt if the room had been that hot the entire time or if it was the arousal creeping through your veins caused by Ari’s deep angered gaze.

He charged your way his finger pointing at you and his mouth was moving, but your hearing seemed to have vanished. You contemplated if you should just show them what you meant or just call it a day. Things were getting heated and the crew was already exhausted enough. Your thoughts interrupted as your mouth started to speak.

“Do I really have to do everything around here?” you muttered under your breath “Edie get off the sunbed and put your robe on” she complied to your order, getting of the stage and putting on her silk robe. You took a moment to analyse your thought, to see if the voice inside your head would protest of what you were contemplating. Nothing came to mind, so instead you unbuttoned your sundress quickly before regretting your decision “Last attempt to film this guys, start rolling. Ari off with the robe, we start from the beginning. Edie take notes” you ordered around the room. Your sundress and underwear falling off your frame piling up next to your director’s chair.

“What are you doing baby girl?” Ari whispered in your ear as you walked backwards his hands holding your hips guiding you towards the double sunbed. His anger seemed to have disappeared and replaced with intrigue.

“Showing you what I want, but mostly taking what I need right now” you replied, he quirked an eyebrow, a smirk plastered on his face in approval “Let’s give them the show they want”

“The show you want” Ari chuckled as he corrected you, before narrowing his eyes a little “The big boss in action, I like it…” Ari whispered as he took in your naked body “I like it a lit” His confident spoken words made you a little insecure, but you hid it well trying to hold your nerves together.

You climbed on the sunbed laying back, your eyes wandered over Ari’s toned chest, his cock aching, your pussy throbbing. You licked your lips and the muscles in your core tightened with the exciting thought of him filling you up to the brim in a matter of minutes, you being at his complete mercy.

“ACTION!” you yelled

Ari crawled on top of you, your hands roamed freely over his arms and chest, his lips crashing on yours briefly before moving on to your neck and your upper torso. Your hands finding their way onto his shoulders, caressing the bare skin. You arched your back at the delight feeling when he sucked on your nipples, a low moan left your lips. Ari’s hands cradling your frame as he peppered kisses further south.

Your eyes following him, he looked back at you through his long lashes as two of his fingers tease your entrance, running gently through your folds. One thing was for sure, you were hot and bothered, all because of the eye candy encaging you in his porn play. He dipped two fingers in your aching core and pumped three times before they stilled inside you. His face coming up to meet yours, his eyes darkened and stole another passionate driven kiss.

His fingers starting pumping you faster earning a few unexpected deep moans. Your lips parting, your lust blown eyes were completely taken by the current moment. Your mind completely forgetting everything was being recorded. Ari’s fingers left your soaking cunt as he lowered his head and settled himself between your legs.

His mouth sucked your clit, you took in a sharp breath. His tongue firmly stroked downward on your slit, enough pressure for a controlled yet obscene moan to escape you. His tongue entered your dripping hole before returning his attention back to your clit. Ari’s fingers rejected as your vaginal muscle had tightened from the attention your clit was receiving. His mouth eased off and he pushed his fingers inside you, your cunt accepting, sucking them in.

The pleasure was almost too much, your hands caressing your upper body finding your breasts. With a feathered touch you rubbed your index fingers over your nipples, biting your bottom lip at the pleasure. Your touch made your nipples erect, the sensation spreading like wildfire through your entire body. Ari increased his pace and your moans and whimpers became more frequent, but in a more wanting and loving way.

Your back started to arch up and you were about to cum, when Ari stopped all his actions. Your eyes shot fully open to protest, but he shushed you by placing two of his fingers in your mouth allowing you a moment to taste yourself before retracting them. You watched him pump his hard cock with his hand, before he gripped your hips as his member slowly pushes down in your sopping cunt.

“Big enough for you princess” Ari grunted as he pushed fully into you.

“Y-Yes” the response was short and simple, your brain not functioning anymore when the pleasure had taken over from the thoughts. His tempo made your eyes roll backwards, your hips meeting his rhythm as he held a firm grasp on your hips helping and guiding you up and down on him. Without warning Ari stopped and flipped you over. A fistful of hair grabbed pulling you back, his grasp wasn’t harsh and only intensified your lustful awakening.

His left arm snaking around your waist finding your right boob, giving it a sinful squeeze, pinching your nipple between his fingers. He held your back close to his chest while his lips sucked pleasure marks on your neck and breathing heavily into your ear, whispering nothing but obscenities to you. Your arms lifted up and your hands fisted his hair, your fingernails scraping his scalp a little. He growled in your ear, you repeated your actions and he gave your hip a single firm squeeze.

His cock slowly being dragged in and out of you, your walls coating his thick veined cock. The squelching noises pulled from the juices being pulled from between your legs. Ari’s hands running freely over your skin setting it on fire. You felt fucked out and your orgasm was building rapidly. 

Ari must have felt it as his hips started bucking up into you even faster, making is his mission to finish you. Your moans of sin becoming frequent again, Ari’s wandering hand slid in between your folds, rubbing your clit gently, pushing you even closer to the edge. One of your hands held onto his wrist holding it in the pleasurable place whilst the other placed on the nape of his neck, fingers gripping the hairs at the bottom.

Your orgasm washed over you as Ari let you ride out your high before pulling you off, laying you flat on the double sunbed. As you tried to calm your breathing he straddled you underneath him, pumping his member faster. The white strings of sin faltering out of his cock, you leaned up on your elbows and opened your mouth while he decorated your face and chest. 

Licking your lips with his salty cum, you swallowed and stared back at Ari who seemed to enjoy the fucked out sight in front of him. When he had finished squirting his load on you, he cradled your head in his large hands, his thumbs running over your lips before leaning in to steal one last fiery kiss. You separated from the kiss and kept staring each other in the eyes for what felt like hours.

“Happy boss?” Ari questioned still holding your head gently as you nodded your head

“CUT!” you yelled, Ari climbed off of you and helped you up.

“WOW, that was amazing” Edie clapped being stunned by the scene that just had taken place.

“Thanks, hopefully a great lesson for you on what to do next time” you spoke, she smiled widely back at you when you walked towards your chair, picking up your clothes from the floor “Well done everyone, I think we all need a break and we’ll continue with fresh eyes tomorrow” a relieved cheer was heard “I’m off to have a shower, since I have become a Picasso art piece” you started walking towards the dressing room

“Worth millions” Ari spoke after you, you raised your middle finger at him without looking back at him. His loud laughter filled the room.

 -----------------------------

You walked out of the building, rolling your eyes at Ari as he leaned against your car, one leg propped up on the tire, his arms folded and a cocky grin beaming back at you.

“There she is, my million dollar star” Ari clapped his hands before raising up his arms slightly and bowing down “I bless the ground you walk on peaches”

“Oh shut it Ari” you felt your cheeks burn, embarrassment bubbling underneath your skin. It was ridiculous, but you felt a little insecure “Hopefully good enough for what I want to get done” you continued walking towards the car, halting in front of Ari. 

“Hopefully?” Ari raised an eyebrow “Peaches you were wonderful, you are in my top 3 ‘the best fucking sex I ever had’ so I guess for a retired pornstar you still possess your magic” you shoved him a little and his head fell back letting out a laugh “Don’t be embarrassed, I liked it a lot” his hands found their way on your waist pulling you into a hug, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Thank you Ari, but can you move out of the way, I want to go home, I am little worn out” “Must be because of my majestic cock” he laughed

“Don’t flatter yourself, it doesn’t suit you” you giggled “Why are you still here, I thought you left a while ago”

“Couldn’t stay away from you peaches, since you performed so well today” Ari wiggled his eyebrows

“Had to show you guys somehow, you were costing me a fortune” you pointed out, opening the car door, tossing your bag on the backseat.

“Would it make a difference if it was done on purpose?” Ari questioned, climbing into the driver’s seat. Your mouth had fallen open from the shock and your brain scrambled for words and phrases to throw Ari’s way. You opened the door on the passenger’s side and got into the seat.

“Are you telling me you put on an entire show so you could get your dick wet on the clock?”

“Had to fuck the brat right out of you somehow” his cocky grin beamed back at you. You knew he was taunting you if it wasn’t for his sunglasses shielding his eyes “You have always been such a perfectionist, so I knew you would fall for my well thought out trap”

“Well next time ask me to eat a snickers instead” you rolled your eyes as Ari started the car.

“Might need another round of fucking the brat out of you peaches” Ari grabbed your hand, pulling the intertwined hold to his lips and placing a kiss on top. Your cheeks flushed with heat at the thought of how intense your fuck session had been and what kind of ways you both would fuck one another later.

YIKES, that was a true adventure!!!

[rigelmejo]

Random things.

1. I read an article about a guy who learned 2000 Chinese words from memrise then dove into reading with Pleco to help and it took him not very long like 1-2 years. I pretty much attempted to do what he did (but I read less graded readers, pushed into webnovels faster, read a quick explanation of the radicals and hanzi construction that took a couple hours to digest, and did one Tuttle Learn Chinese Characters 800 hanzi book and read a grammar guide, I did the Ben Whatley memrise decks like him but otherwise did my own study books/websites plan). And the thing was? It worked. He took 30 ish hours and I took Maybe 20 hours to read the Tuttle book slowly, 4 hours to read a grammar guide, and a combined probably 30 hours like him (2 weeks for the first 1000 then over a month period for the 2nd thousand). So maybe 54 hours for me to prepare for reading and recognizing 2000 words and a decent number of hanzi, which was enough to push into webnovel reading with tools like Pleco.

I learned from the experience: learning is easier than people like to make it out to be (people sometimes love to paint chinese and Japanese as Incredibly Difficult and like you won't be reading novels for 4-5 years if even then, unless you study 6 hours a day.... for reference I studied generally 1-2 hours a day on average and only got to around HSK 3-4 when I started reading at 5 months in, and Japanese I am only like N4-N3 level and beginning to read and I only studied 15-30 minutes a day on average so a very doable 1-2 hours a day would make someone reach reading faster than my 5 year point lol). And also if I challenge myself to do what someone else did. Sometimes it works out

2. There's a LOT of free reading app tools for chinese. Don't feel you have to buy a paid one like LingQ or Readibu (though if you like the paid ones and they suit you please enjoy them). Pleco is phenomenal (and added Google translate for sentences so it officially handles both words ans sentences like Readibus paid version, also can read words and text aloud and has a built in srs flashcard and wordlisr system if you want it), Idiom is free (and has youtube videos with click dictionaries too, does read aloud, word translation, webpage reading, but not ideal translations - same quality translation as LingQ), Mandarinspot.com (for computer and phone/tablet web browser, does good translations and pinyin - good for people who would like pinyin), Zhongwen extension (for computer only but quite good, similar to MandarinspReading. Also depending on your phone, if you have Google translate app you can highlight any word/sentence etc when reading and get a definition - its Google translate so not perfect quality but as good as Readibu or LingQ but free. Again, with Google translate on your phone, these click translations should work in reader apps like Moonreader+ too. In addition some reader apps have built in dictionaries (I had Kybook reader for ios before and it was excellent, Kindle app has built in dictionaries which is nice, Moonreader+ can import dictionaries I think). Then paid options like LingQ, Readibu. So you don't have to wait until you're a strong reader to start. Click dictionary tools make it easier to look up words quickly as you read.

3. Not an ideal tip for everyone but. Pleco and Google Translate have hanzi writing recognition for lookup. I find Google translate tends to struggle less to identify hanzi even if you write them in the wrong stroke order (though the closer your stroke order is to correct the easier these apps recognize the hanzi you mean). When watching a show, handwriting lookup in apps is convenient when you don't know the pinyin. Google translate has a camera feature for word lookup for print books, or a paused screen with chinese subs. These are quick options to see if you roughly got the gist. When reading manhua, the handwriting lookup option helps if you don't have a guess of the pinyin. And as your pronunciation gets better, speaking word lookup works great for fast lookups (but beware if a novel writer or show says a really bizarre phrase then Google translate tends to assume you meant something less uncommon, in which case sometimes hanzi by hanzi input either writing, speaking, typing etc is easier).

[tokyoimagines]

✧ I’ll Always Take Care Of You ✧

❀ Summary: Megumi was hurt on his last mission so you took it in your own hands to take care of him!

❀ A/N: If I mix up the names I’m sorry, I watched Jujutsu Kaisen in three different languages and the names get mixed up a lot. I’m not a native English speaker speaker so there will be mistakes (feel free to correct me)

❀ Pairings: Megumi x Reader

❀ Warnings: Grammar Error / Fluff / Blood / Bad Language

❀ Published: 11.02.2021

❀ Words: 1.742

You couldn't believe it.

Megumi just came back from a mission that Gojo gave him a few days ago but he won’t let you allow see him. He came back a few hours ago and went straight to his room, not even looking you in the eyes. You just wanted to know if he was fine but he kept blocking every social interaction.

All you knew was that the mission included a grade 1 curse while Megumi was a grade 2 sorcerer so this shit didn’t even make sense. You were really worried, not knowing what happened.

“Megumi? Can I please come in?” it’s the fifth time now that you are were standing in front of his closed door. Shifting on your feet you waited quietly until you heard his stern voice replying. “No you can’t. Now please leave me alone.” Wow that hurt. A frustrated sigh leaving your mouth. Your best friend could be so stubborn its incredible.

Deciding if you should go to your room or just try again you saw Yuuji approaching you. “Yo!” he waved at you “He won’t let you in either?”

“No, I don’t know whats going on with him. So you also tried to talk too him?” you sigh, putting a strand of hair behind your ear. Looking at Yuuji you noticed that he also seemed kind of worried. You remember how happy he was when you first met him, this boy has definitely changed a lot.

“Well he told me to fuck off.” he said laughing. “HE SAID WHAT?”

Yuuji let out a loud laugh. “I guess he’s just really exhausted, we should give him a break and try again later” Thinking about what he just said you bit your lip. Maybe he was right and Megumi was just really tired. We’re probably just annoying him right now.

“You’re probably right. If he was really hurt he would have went to Shoko. I’ll look after him again in the evening.” you said in a monotone voice.

After the sun began to set you found yourself in the kitchen, brewing some soup. “If he won’t let me in this time I’ll pour this shit over his head!” you mumbled while stirring the soup. Grabbing a bowl of the freshly made soup you made your way to Megumis room again.  Hesitantly you knocked on the door again. “Megumi? I made you some food. I haven’t seen you the whole day, you must be hungry…” You waited nervously, biting your lip.

What if I just woke him up? Oh shit this punk will kill me.

“Leave the food in front of the door, I’ll get it later.”

Wait? Is this idiot serious right now?

You couldn't remember the last time you were this angry at your best friend because this shit just reached a whole different level. “You know what? I give a shit if you don’t want anyone to see you. Get the fuck ready because I’m coming in now”

“Y/N I dare y-” You stepped into his room, making his words die on his lips. He was laying in his bed while holding an ice pack to his lips.

Walking over to his bed and putting the soup on his nightstand you could make out some bloody tissue papers in his trash bin.

Now inspectating his face more closely you were able to see a big cut over his eyebrow and a dark purple eye. Now grabbing his wrist and pulling his hand with the ice pack away from his face, revealing a bruised lips.

“You could have just told me you were hurt.” you pressed out quietly. “You should go to Shoko”

“It’s really not that bad” he mumbled, pressing the ice against his lip again.

“That bloody shit in your trash says otherwise.” you pointed at his trash bin. “I’ll be right back, just don’t run away.”

“Where do you think I would be going looking like th-” again he was cut off by you leaving his room.

A few seconds later you came back bursting into his room again, in your hand a little package.

“Okay I guess I’ve got everything I need. Can you sit up? And put that damn ice to the side.”

Megumi put the ice on his nightstand and sat himself on the edge of his bed looking around his room. He looked everywhere but definitely not at you. After you positioned yourself in front of him you grabbed his chin softly, not wanting to hurt him any further.

“You look like shit” you said while getting out the bandages and the alcohol.

“Yeah Sherlock you don’t say” you chuckled at his stupid remark.

Putting some alcohol on a cotton wrap you padded it on the cut over his eyebrow. This angle gave you a chance to have a better look at his eyes. They were so dark, almost like obsidian. They were so deep, you almost got lost into them but Megumis hissing made you snap back. Ah right, the alcohol.

“I’m sorry, does it hurt that bad?”

“No, its fine. Just hurry please” You nodded, putting the cotton wrap away and grabbing a big band aid to put it over the cut. “This should stop the blending for now.”

“Turn your head a little bit, I need to see how badly your lips look.”

He turned his head to the side. His lips where mostly bruised but you could make out a little cut.

I can’t really patch that up but I can at least disinfect it.

Grabbing your alcohol and cotton again, you began to press it on his lips.

“Sorry this must hurt a lot”

Megumi kept quiet and just looked at you. His stare made you nervous.

Damn this boy and his beautiful eyes.

“I guess that’s all I can do for now. Do you have any more cuts or bruises I should take a look at?”

you immediately regretted your question.

“I actually got some more wounds, but I guess I can take care of them myself, it’s fine.” Oh no. If I do my job I do it correctly.

“Can you at least show them to me so I can see how bad they are. They should not get infected, you know right?”

Megumi let out a loud sight. He grabbed his shirt and pulled it over his head. Damn it, I wasn’t expecting it to be on his rips. I thought they were on his arms or some shit like that. So this was the reason why he had troubles getting up. Makes sense now.

You immediately became flustered by the pure sight of his upper body. Luckily Megumi was busy trying to not look you in the eyes.

I have to touch him. Oh please no.

You quietly did your job of disinfecting and cleaning up his wounds. His skin was pale and cold to your touch. Your eyes staring right at his upper body, not daring to look him in the eyes for just one second. Megumi was just as nervous as you were but after some minutes of acting like all of this didn’t happen, he was able to look at you cleaning his wounds. How careful you were to not hurt him.

“Y/N?” he spoke softly. You instinctively looked up, becoming even more red.

“Thank you for doing this.” he said, still staring into your eyes.

You hectically looked away, fixing your eyes on his almost patched up wounds again.

“You don’t have to thank me for that. I’ll always take care of you. No matter what.”

After you finished patching Megumi up, you packed your things together, strands of hair falling in your face. Megumi pulled his shirt over his head, being fully clothed again. The situation was awkward and even tho you really like Megumi, you wanted to get out of it.

“Guess my job is done here. Text me if you need something and I’ll come over. And eat your soup!” you said smiling at him, pointing at the soup that was still on his nightstand.

You were about to turn around, when Megumi spoke up.

“You know you could just stay here, then I don’t have to text you if I need something” he mumbled while scratching the back of his neck, not even looking you in the eyes.

You heart hammered so loud, you were scarred he would be able to hear it.

Was he serious? He wants me to stay with him over the night. This boy is joking right?

“Are your sure? Like… you want me here to stay?” you mumbled. Not really knowing what to say. You’ve gotten so nervous it’s getting ridiculous.

“Only if you want to, I thought that would be the better option” he shifted around, not knowing if what he said was wrong.

“Yeah, yeah. I guess that would be better.” you agreed by rapidly nodding, almost stumbling over your own words.

This was everything Megumi needed to hear. He lifted his blanked up to signalize you to get your ass into his bed.

Hesitantly you crawled into the bed, now laying next to him.

Megumi was laying on his back. You turned around to face him. “Can I….. you know. Can I maybe lay my hand there?” pointing at his stomach. You felt ashamed for asking to literally cuddle him, but you just couldn't help it.

Everyone can sleep better when they cuddle something, right?

Megumi looked at you, surprised that you even asked him that. “If it helps you sleep, sure.”

You slowly slit your hands up his stomach and rested it right under the wound you just patched up before. Curling into his side you breathed his scent in. He smelled so incredibly good, it gave you butterfly's in your belly.

“Am I not hurting you?” you asked, referring to the position you hand was in.

“You could never. Now go to sleep, you had a troublesome day with me acting like a completely asshole.” he chuckled, patting your head once, letting his hand rest on your back.

“I guess your right.” was all you where able to say, before slowly drifting off into a deep sleep.

Megumi watched you a bit longer, questioning how you both ended up like this. He always had liked you since he first laid his eyes on you. Seeing your sleeping form curled into him, made him realize how much he cared for you.

A/N

I hope you liked this imagine. If you know things I could do better, feel free to DM me. I always want to improve myself and my writing.

Have a nice day! ♡

[mxthtea]

@comet-tails ahs once again, given me more ideas

platonic!eula x gn!reader warnings: grammar + spellings mistakes, lowercase writing, physical contact (dancing), written before eula's release posted whenever, please let me know if i missed any description: eula decides to teach you how to slow dance. buut it seems you got a bit too distracted and had to retry more than a few times. not your fault eula looks so pretty and graceful while dancing. word count: 542 fic is under the cut :)

"would you like to dance with me?"

the question rang out in the open field. your greatest friend, eula, held out her hand to you in an offering to dance with her.

"i can't dance," you said, putting your hands behind your back.

"then, i can teach you of course."

eula stretched her hand out even further for you to grasp.

"alright, i'll bite."

eula gave a soft smile and lead you further into the green field. she moved your hands to the correct places and started leading you, giving you instructions while she lead you around. her voice seemed soft, carefree even, with a sweet smile to bring it out even more.

suddenly, you felt yourself being lifted into the air and swung around.

"ah- eula!"

"is there something wrong?" eula smiled.

"was that even part of the routine we're supposed to do?"

"no, just wanted to lift you. did you not like it?"

you both continued dancing together like before. the wind blowing on the grass quietly as eula lead you around the field.

"i mean- it's fine, just give me a warning next time."

"will do y/n."

that smile will be your downfall, you know it.

you try to keep it a secret from your fellow knights of favonius that you have a crush on eula. of course however, some caught on. by some you mean the librarian and cavalry captain themselves, lisa and kaeya. you expected that they both would find out sooner or later. they both asked you about it and you had to say the truth about it. since then, you hoped no one else had noticed. especially eula herself.

"is there something wrong?"

eula stopped her movements and looked at you.

"you seem a tad distracted, would you like to take a break?"

"no it's not that, just thinking about a few things. it's nothing important though! you don't have to worry about, eula."

"are you sure? we can take a small break if you want, it's not like i have anything else to do."

"a small break is fine i guess."

taking your hand, eula led you over under a tree to sit down together. the shade was nice from it. it wasn't a hot day, not at all, but somehow you felt like you were burning up. despite eula being a cryo user, she made you flustered effortlessly.

"was it fun?" eula turned to you.

"dancing? of course it was fun, it was nice to dance with you."

"good, maybe we could dance more together."

"m-more?"

"of course. did you think i'd only teach you one type of dance? if you're comfortable, i'd love to bring you to dance with me more when we're both free."

"with you being a captain though..."

"i can always get free time. there's no need to worry."

"are you sure i won't be taking up your time though?"

"as if you would, don't you know what to question a noblewoman?"

you gave a halfhearted groan at that response.

"fine.. i'll take you up on your offer."

"good, i'll enjoy dancing more with my.. good friend."

you both continued to sit next to each other in silence. soon, maybe you could even say your feelings on eula.

[feelingisshit]

Don’t Know Me - Stan Uris x Reader

Warnings - swearing, sexual mentions, victor and belch, this is my first time writing for IT

Stan and I had never really got along, it wasn’t like we always hated each other but we really never clicked as I did with the rest of the losers. We just never really had anything in common except our friends which obviously wasn’t enough because those friends started to become what was pushing us even farther apart. A snide remark from Richie here and there and then the rest of the group opting to believe Stan more often than not put more tension on our relationship and soon enough both of us did hate each other. 

“God, why do you have to correct everything I say? You’re such a fucking know-it-all Stanley!” Stan scoffed and rolled his eyes so aggressively that I thought maybe they’d fall out of his damn head. “All you do is try to take control of everything I do or say! And you know what else Stan?” I ask, moving towards him and poking a finger into his chest. “What? What nonsense do you have to say this time (y/n)? Really I’d love to know!” this makes me fume and if we were in a cartoon you’d most likely see smoke shoot out of my ears. “That! That’s what else Stan! You act like I’m so ignorant when really I get the same grades if not better than you do. Just because I don’t like to use my free time to study new things like you and Ben do doesn’t mean I’m an idiot!” I stomp and all the losers shrink back away from us.

I look over at them and my eyes immediately when I see that Eddie and Ben are visibly worried. I turn back to Stan who’s looking down on me with an expression I can’t quite read. I sigh heavily before grabbing my bag off the dirt-covered planks of the clubhouse and heading to the ladder up. “W-Where are you y-y-you go-going (y/n)?” Bill stutters out and I shoot Stan a glare before looking back at Bill. “I need a breather so I’m going back into town, probably home. If you guys want to hang out again later that’s fine by me.” I say before taking the ladder back up to the surface and walking back towards town to get ice cream.

“Why? Why the fuck does he hate me so much?” I cried, leaning over my ice cream. God Stan pisses me off to no end but at least I’m really the only one who he treats this way. At least he’s nice to the rest of the losers. “He’d be so pretty if he wasn’t scowling all the time…” I say to myself before finishing my ice cream. As I finish my cone and start to get up I get pushed back down onto the curb. I look up and see the two remaining boys of Bowers’ gang above me with hesitant smiles and shifting eyes. They look down on me with much more venom than I’ve ever seen in Stan’s eyes when he looks at me. “What are you doing all alone on the pavement? Your group of fuck buddies tired of you already? Ya get too used for their liking?” Victor spat at me and I let out a laugh without thinking. He grabbed me by my top and pulled me closer to him, so close that I could smell the liquor he had been drinking. The scent hit my nose so hard that I didn’t get to hear what he had said before he slapped me, threw me to the pavement, kicked me in the side a few times, then ran for the hills with Belch following closely behind.

“Are you alright (y/n)?” I didn’t get to register who had said that to me before I started crying again. Whoever had come to check on me just sat beside me quietly listening and rubbing a hand over my back to help soothe me. While I cried I let everything go to this stranger, I told them about practically everything that had been bothering me. Like part of the traumatic events of earlier that summer and how much Stan being a major dickhead was affecting me. All they did was rub their hand up and down my back and before I had realized it, the sun was already almost set and I would need to be home soon for dinner.  I quickly got up, wiped my eyes, gathered my belongings, and shouted a quick thanks before running off in the direction of my home without thinking to take a quick look back.

The next few times the losers club hung out Stan was fairly silent, opting to read a book instead of listening to mostly just Eddie and Richie bickering. The fourth hangout all Stan could seem to do was stare at me over the edge of his big book of birds. Yet, every time I locked eyes with him he looked away quickly, acting as if he hadn’t just been peering at me for at least fifteen minutes straight. That was about all I could stand to let him stare me down while I was trying to have a conversation with Ben and Beverly. “Why is he staring at you like that? Did something happen after you went to take a breather?” Bev questioned and Ben shuddered from the memory of how angry I had gotten. “I have no fucking clue to be completely honest with you. I really wish I did know what was going on in that pretty head of his…” I said without really thinking too much and both Ben and Bev did a double-take after I had said it. I regretted my words as soon as they had absentmindedly come out of my mouth and I laid my head in my hands, thankful that Stan was sitting on the other side of the clubhouse from us.  

“(y/n)? What was that? I didn’t quite hear you.” Bev teased and Ben pushed her a bit but all she did was laugh and then lean onto Ben’s shoulder to listen to what I’ll have to say. “Seriously tho, Bev’s teasing aside, I never thought I’d hear you say something like that about one of us and especially not Stan.” I groan and lift my head to look around. Everyone was still caught up in their conversations to pay us any mind. The only person who even thought to give us attention was still just Stan. When I caught his eyes with mine he didn’t look away immediately like he had before, like he somehow knew we were talking about him. I wave my hand awkwardly and he simply nods back at me and then looks back down to keep reading his big bird book.

I leaned forward towards the two so that hopefully only they could hear me. “Yeah…” I sighed and shook my head “I think Stan is cute but that doesn’t change the fact that we still basically hate each other.” Ben nodded thoughtfully with a hand to his chin. Bev butts in, “I don’t know, I think something has changed. He’s never kept his distance like this.” She stated plainly, leaning back against the wooden post with her hands laced behind her head. “He usually just sits with everyone and then argues with you if you bring something up. Are you sure nothing happened between you two after you had left?” She asks closing her eyes to rest them, a soft smile resting on her lips.

“I mean yeah i’m sure, unless you guys sent him after me. Someone, I didn't get to see who, checked up on me after I got pushed around a bit by Victor and Belch outside the ice cream shop.” She coughed and sat straight up looking at me with wide eyes, trying to catch her breath. “Victor and Belch got to you and you didn’t think to mention it to any of us?!” Bev shouted which quickly gained the rest of the boys’ attention. The only eyes that didn't look up at Bev were Stan’s. In fact, he actually shrank even further into his book if that were even possible. I tried to wave everyone’s attention off but none of them even started to look away until I had proved that I was fine other than a few bruises. After they had all finally gone back to their prior conversations I told Ben and Bev what I had ended up saying to whoever was kind enough to comfort one of the loser kids. Ben and Bev exchanged looks but neither of them seemed to want to make an effort to express what they were thinking.

The next time we all got together again was at Bill’s place for a sleepover. And by then whatever remorse Stan had for me had passed because he was back to being obnoxious as usual, correcting my grammar, and whatever else he thought I was wrong about. “Ya know what Stan?” I finally spit out after he had corrected my grammar for maybe the twelfth time already that night. Everyone looked nervously between the two of us, scared that a screaming match would start soon. Stan cocked an eyebrow at me and my eye twitched before I started to answer, “Stan, I have no idea why you had mercy on me for a few days and I have absolutely no clue what crawled up your fucking ass and died that put you in a shit mood but I really don’t want to be in a bad mood tonight. Do you think you could at least be a little nicer to me for your friends so you don’t fuck up their time?” I was exhausted already and we had only been at Bill’s for maybe an hour. “Honestly I might just head to bed now so Stan plays nice since he only ever seems to really be upset with me. Or maybe I’ll just head home even so I’m not even in the same house to be upset with. Oh, and Stan?” He tilted his head questioningly. “Maybe get to know a girl a bit more before you hate her cause honestly you don’t even really know me.” I breathed and gathered my belongings. I tried to leave too but Bill was one step ahead of me.

“P-please do-don’t leave (y/n). You can go l-lay down in-in my room if y-you need a bre-breather.” I nod and smile softly, “Thanks Billy.” I say before setting my bag back down on the floor by the couch and heading up to Bill’s room for a break from the chaos. After a few minutes of getting to lay in silence and stare at the ceiling a knock sounded at Bill’s bedroom door. “Come in,” I say, half expecting Ben, Bev, or Eddie to be the one at the door but when I look over at the door after it had opened I see Stan standing there awkwardly in the frame of the door. “I said you could come in Stan, I don’t know why you’re up here but believe me you’re welcome to come in none the less.” I say looking back up at the ceiling. I hear the floorboards creak and feel the bed dip beside me. I hear Stan mumble something and I sigh and sit up on the bed. “I couldn’t hear what you said, you’re mumbling.” I state, looking straight at Stan whose face is red and his golden brown eyes are shifting quite a lot. “I’m sorry, okay!” he suddenly shouted and it startled me since he doesn’t usually get very loud.

“What?” I say more out of confusion than anything else and Stan stands and starts to head towards the door. I jump up and grab at his wrist to stop him. “I didn’t come in here to fight you, I’m sorry. I’ll try to leave you be from now on. That’s all I came to say.” he rubs the back of his neck with his free hand nervously. “You sure? It sorta seems like there’s more you want to say.” I ask and he sighs, “I was the person who was with you after Victor and Belch got to you  and I didn’t realize how much what i said actually affected you. So, I’m sorry for everything I’ve said to or about you.” He apologizes with a red face and I chuckle lightly. “I’m sorry too Stan, I haven’t been all that honest with you either.” He tilts his head in confusion and I shake my head and continue, “I don’t hate you Stan, I honestly wish I did after everything you’ve done and said to me to piss me off over the years. Really I,” I pause, taking a deep breath before I admit this to him. 

“I  honestly think you’re pretty cute, handsome, pretty, whatever word you’d prefer.” I manage to spit out with a heated face and this time not from anger but from slight embarrassment of admitting something I’ve only told Bev and Ben. He just stands there staring at me in awe or shock, I couldn’t quite tell which. I place a hand on his shoulder and pull him down to my level. I place a soft kiss on his cheek before starting to head back to the group sitting in Bill’s living room. “I guess you do know me huh Stan Uris?” I whisper to myself before walking into the living room and sitting down among the other losers.

[shanghai-lu]

Mine ~ Jung Jaehyun

Please listen to "Met a girl" by Tarune while reading ~  (◍•ᴗ•◍)✧*♡  It really adds to the whole scene and mood~ 

For: Jung Jaehyun - NCT

Type: Drabble / Scenario

Mood: Fluff / Wholesome

Word count: 391

Hope this helps make your day a little better Xx

| Thoughts are in italics |

He sat on the edge of the mattress on the floor, wearing only shorts and a t-shirt, still slightly wet after a shower. You sat at the other side of the room, watching him intently as he scrolled on his phone. The soft orange rays of the setting sun were filtering through the windows, highlighting his back and some of his face.

As you sat taking in the scene before you, you suddenly felt as if you were seeing Jaehyun for the first time again. 

Were his features always so handsome? Have his eyes always been so incredibly chocolatey brown? Were his lips always so soft and pink? His hands... were they always so slender and veiny? And his hair... has it always been so shiny? 

Of course, but those details, that you've gotten used to seeing every day, had caught you off guard suddenly. It felt like you were struck by a stranger's handsomeness and it stole your breath away - that feeling of falling in momentary love with someone on a train, or at a cafe, or the gym, but never to see them again.

He saw you staring. "Something wrong?", he asks, still scrolling.

You murmur a "Hmm-uh" and try to avert your eyes.

"What is it, mhh?", He sighs contently as he leaves his phone and comes to sit in front of you. 

"Nothing", you manage to quietly and quickly breathe out, now looking down and fiddling with your hands.

"Nothing? You can tell me...", he encourages.

"I...I was just.."

How were you supposed to tell him without making it awkward or weird?

"You're really handsome, an-and your dimples are really nice... and you have really pretty eyes..."

Nice dimples? Pretty eyes? Seriously?? I’ve really gone and done it now haven’t I, and why do I feel so shy around him all of a sudd-

He's beaming, and his cheeks and ears have gone all rosy.

"And you know what's the best part?", he smiles as he takes your cheeks in both hands, gently tilting your face up to look at him.

"It's all yours, and only yours".

Your heart does a warm twist. Now you're all rosy and beaming too.

"All mine..." you whisper, filled completely with adoration and love.

He places a soft, warm, slow kiss on the corner of your mouth.

Mine... All mine...

Xx

This was my first time writing something like this, so I hope you liked it and I sincerely thank you for reading (*/ω＼*) ! 

If I made a few errors with grammar or spelling, feel free to correct me~ Also, if you need credit for the photos used please let me know :)

Hope you have a good day! 

- Lu ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ

[thedevilliers]

Hey, I've been reading your story for a while, and I'm enjoying it very much. Following the De Villiers has been so fun, and you've inspired me to create my own royal Simblr!

Can you maybe share some tips about what to do with your royals? I'll be posting my family within the next few weeks, and I have already planned out several engagements + events, including visits to parks/schools/hospitals, parties, and news surrounding a royal pregnancy. I've also planned out the first arc. I don't know what else to do, and I've barely started! If you have any tips related to the beginning of your Simblr that you didn't cover in your other post, I would so appreciate them. I want to get all this nailed down *before* posting, so my blog is the best that it can be.

Also, if you have any advice on how to make things as efficient as possible (especially regarding posing sims, editing/writing posts, etc.), I would love that! I want to cut down on time wasted wherever I can.

Thank you!! :-)

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 me?!!?!?! ME ??????? omg 🧍‍♀️ thank u for reading my story 🥺 and AAAAAAAAAAAA your own royal simblr !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

ill answer everythin under the cut !!!!! spoilers: it got long sorry

first of all, remember we ALL started somewhere. you can look at my first like... fifteen and even MORE posts and they are BAD. oh my gawd idk why i thought they were good, but hey! i learned things from them. you will more than likely change your mind about certain things from the beginning of your blog to who knows, four months from now. don’t focus and worry a lot on ‘perfection’ and setting up ‘high standards’ from the beginning. treat it like a learning curve! this is something we all do for fun, so don’t get stressed a lot on it. you can always change and adapt things and that’s no problem!

i love lists, so im gonna list a few things of advice/tips basing myself on what you said!!!

i personally don't do engagements anymore, so i can't really help you in this regard of even more activities you could do 🧍‍♀️ what i could recommend for people to get to know your characters' personalities and private lives and grow attached to them, add in BTS posts.

continuing on my BTS’ post thing, they are a GREAT way to show more than what the public sees for your royals. because from a press and public point of view, you don't really know 'what goes on behind closed doors'. they could be all happy in public, but in privatE??!??!!?!?

as i said in my starting out guide, i did have around ~15 drafts done before i started posting. just so i could not stress about “oh my god i dont have any posts for tomorrow”. a LOT of ppl do posts and queue them as they go, and they have MANY posts done and usually they start accumulating and they are MONTHS in advance compared to what they’re currently posting. if this method works for you, you can definitely use it!

please, please please read your dialogue OUT loud. is it possible to say a 2093023902 word sentence without a singular use of punctuation? do people in this age and era really talk this way? also please if possible use correct grammar. just a little pet peeve, it can take a reader out of the immersion your story gives them.

we all have our lil dialogue habits. mine is starting sentences with “oh” and the infamous dash “—”. others use ellipses. just make sure you aren’t overdoing it. for example, doing a sentence like “oh— there you are. i was uhm— looking for you. how—how are you? its—i mean where have you uhm— been? yes—ive—ive been fine. you? i mean— your mom” ....just no 😔 it doesnt read well at ALL

you can always do lil filler posts, dont tell anyone tell you otherwise. post a little simstagram post, a little family portrait, updated portraits post, family hanging out, kids hanging out, etc.

for posing sims, i do try and remember where MOST of my poses are in the ingame list. usually creators’ correctly naming the poses helps a lot. for example i need a Mel Bennet pose; hers are usually ALL in the same spot and have the same lil aqua bg so i can easily find them. sometimes, i dl pose packs VERY specifically for a certain scene. am i gonna use them again? no. so i open the .package file in sims4studio and rename them to “00 for emi scene [rest of the og name” so when i open my game, they are around the top of the list! no more scrolling and i easily know what i need it for.

dont be scared to plan things that are happening MONTHS from now or anything in detail. some ppl dont like planning things in detail, or even dont like planning things AT ALL or things that arent happening say, in over 2 weeks because idk, they get bored. i recommend at LEAST having a list of things that HAVE to happen so you have ‘goals’ and you slowly plan out how you’re gonna get there. at LEAST theres some level of planning there. if you’re posting and PLANNING as you go, there’s gonna be holes. and it’s gonna be obvious.

editing wise, i don’t do much. my reshade does most of the work, i just add in my psd, add text and done! this is easily the fastest thing you will ever do.

if you get inspired by someone else doing, idk, a certain layout for the portraits, them adding little things to their captions, a certain edit, etc. if you want to do something similar and you ARE very much aware you were inspired by them, credit them in the caption. i beg. its free, its the nice thing to do, bc if not its rude.

if you get inspired by a certain storyline someone else did and you notice yours is gonna be similar, go ahead and send them a message to let them know and if they have any tips or feel uncomfortable with you doing this. simply put, if you don’t, you’re gonna look bad. we are all bound to do same storylines, such as assassinations, shooty shooty’s, stalkers, first loves, accidental babies, etc. but what changes is how each person approaches it. no ones gonna do it the same way as you and others. if you CONSCIOUSLY start copying else, stop it. and you could even be unconsciously be inspired by someone else too. it happens! just make sure you are able to look at the bigger picture and realize “hey, i’m doing something wrong”

same thing with dialogue. you like a line someone else said in their story? don’t just... steal it and incorporate it into yours word BY WORD

OVERALL: you can be inspired. give credit where it’s due. and don’t copy because someone else is doing ‘something others like’ and you want others to like your story. no no no !

im adding this AFTER i posted it but, be yourself. in the way you interact with others and send questions, etc. don’t try and copy someone else’s personality because they are liked and essentially absorb them. be yourself and i’m sure a lot of ppl will like you the way you are : D

for my writing dialogue etc, this goes back to my point 8. i use milanote, its free and you get 200 free thingies to use, and i plan out how every single one of my posts is gonna go. so i just have to go ingame and i already know what im gonna do. no thoughts, just taking screenshots. for example, this is how a part of my part 2, chapter 3 posts layout looks like. every square is a post that has what is happening, who is in it, what is gonna be said very vaguely, etc:

11. and the most important tip! don’t compare yourself to others. i did it at the beginning. i think we all did at one point. its not good for you at all. please always remember we all are here for share our lil stories with each other and it’s not easy get a following. you’ll get there and its gonna take time. be patient, be nice!!! and i cant wait to see your story!!!!!!!!!!

[causeimhappinesss]

Fading innocence - Thomas Shelby

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x reader

Warnings: age gap, smut, loss of virginty

Request : Hiii i'm the one that requested the tommy x christian reader, i was thinking if maybe you could write the moment where he takes her virginity, what does the family think about her, her telling him (before they start to date) that she wants to create a family with her future husband and have at least 2 kids or more because she wants them to have eachother's back always, and his reaction to it too♡♡♡♡ thank you so much♡♡♡♡

Disclaimer: I’m french and even if I’m learning English for a long time, it’s not perfect and I’m sorry if there are spelling or grammar mistakes. I haven’t written in English for almost a year. If English is your native language (or if you’re bilingual), I would really appreciate it if you could help me by correcting my errors. Just don’t be too harsh, please. :)

***

Living in a wealthy family had advantages and disadvantages, it was undeniable. First, you couldn't date someone who didn't belong to your rank. Second, you were brought up in a very Catholic family and therefore, no sex before marriage. Oh God, no! Your father would have wanted your head on a stake, that's for sure! Third, your education made you very polite.

This is surely what had pleased Thomas Shelby the day you met him. As a politician, he was often called upon to meet so-called "high society people", other politicians and their families. So he had been invited for a weekend to a deputy's house. Drinking good French wine, playing golf, riding horses on your father's huge property, talking business and politics; it was the schedule. He planned to stick to it without causing any problems. To tell the truth, he appreciated your father, he was a very nice man who shared his vision of things in the political world, although he thought he too... Catholic, for his taste.

You stood in front of him, magnificent, breathtaking in this white dress that highlighted your purity and your curves, without ever falling into vulgarity. Beautiful women, he had seen them. He had even slept with a large number of them. Yet none, except Grace, had done this to him. You took his breath away.

He spied on you, in your every move. Your long doe eyelashes adorned your eyes with a color he judged sumptuous by its nuances. That doe look, what made him weak every time you spoke to him. "Mr. Shelby, what do you prefer in politics? "," Thomas, what are your next projects for the most disadvantaged populations? "," Tommy, could you teach me how to ride a horse, correctly? " 72 hours of pure delight where he became close to you. People had to be blind not to see this alchemy.

It was also long conversations between the two of you, he discovered that you liked to read, sometimes you wrote, you liked arts in general, and that you dreamed of starting your own family with several children. A dream of a little girl your never abandoned. Tommy could only find it respectable, even if part of him thought it was too… Classic? He had known women wilder than that, more free-spirited and yet your love of family and innocent side attracted him.

"I want my children to always have each other's back, it's so important in a family," it didn't surprise Tommy. The latter could only smile.

"A closely-knit family ? It's not easy, it's very rare, you know. I love my family, but sometimes, protecting each other is not as easy as you think. There's always a vicious guy to screw everything up. The perfect family doesn’t exist."

And after that, you tried to argue again and despite your youth, your lack of experience in life, you were doing pretty well.

The tall, violent and enigmatic Thomas Shelby couldn't take his eyes off you. You were so beautiful that it became painful. His heart was racing. His hands were shaking at times. In the evening, in his bed, he imagined your sweet face as he stroked his cock. You became his obsession. You were almost perfect. Almost. Why "almost"? You were so young, so... Devoted to God. Quite his opposite. Tommy was already 40 years old, and you just celebrated your 21st birthday. You liked to pray before each meal, especially in the evening, and you went to church each Sunday.

He thought he had no chance with you. And yet that didn't stop him from organizing weekends like this more and more often. Sometimes, your family was staying with him and sometimes, you family was telling him to stay. Of course, your father noticed something, even if he said nothing. In reality, he was waiting for Tommy to behave like a man and confess things to him. Your father hoped Tommy would ask you to marry him. This alliance would be a nice thing in terms of politics and it made him feel good about not having to force his daughter to marry a man she absolutely wouldn't love.

On your side, you often thought about this man. You thought he was attractive, enigmatic and you liked this harsh, icy side that he displayed with the others, while he was soft with you. You did everything to be in the same room as him, to find a topic for discussion and you loved when he taught you concrete things of real life. Your mother didn’t always see this as a good thing, she wanted to preserve you, a little Catholic from a good family, who had to be protected from obscenity. You were so innocent that you had no idea what happened when two adults kissed in a bed… You knew that they ended up naked, that there was a link between the female sex and the male sex, but it ended there. Likewise, the conception of a child was still unclear to you. For good reason, you didn’t went to school where children and adolescents share their new knowledges. And you only befriended with girls from wealthy and Catholic families, your mother watched your companies, so you couldn't know.

One evening, when you were at home and Tommy was sleeping in your parents' manor, you were dying of heat. Despite the window open in your room, the chest exposed with just your little nightie and a leg over your blanket, you turned in all directions. The moonlight allowed you to see everything in your room and your own body. You kept thinking of "Mr. Shelby" ... You were constantly looking for contact with him, so when he was nearby, you deliberately let your clothes rub against his when you walked near him, or you would slide your knee against his, if he sat next to you. You missed his touch. Imagining him putting his hands on your waist, your heartbeat increased and a sigh crossed the barrier of your lips. You stir in your bed again, until you felt your nipples rub against the blanket. With your nipples erected, your back shaken by pleasant chills, you sighed again. It was so nice. By mechanism, you did it again. It was so nice. Why did this friction do you so much good? Why did you want to start over? You felt a heat spread in your lower-abdomen. Without realizing it, your pelvis began to wave against the covers, which you pulled up between your thighs. Soon, the fabric rubbed obscenely against your intimacy despite your panties. It was so good that many sighs of desire and pleasure crossed the barrier of your lips. Soon, you repeated the name "Tommy" like a mantra.

In the middle of the night, Tommy felt the need to drink a glass of water. That’s why he got out of bed, put on a pant he buttoned up, and an undershirt. However, to go down to the kitchen, he had to walk near your room. Your sighs, which became weak moans, attracted his attention. He stopped, frowning, he was surprised. He thought he was dreaming. How did such an innocent little thing produce these sinful sounds? He pressed his ear to the door and he felt the excitement build up inside of him. He was used to this kind of noise, but what excited him was the fact it came out of your mouth. He felt his erection grow when she distinguished said his name. He slid his hand over his stretched cock, unable to resist the urge to join you in your bed, regardless of what it might cause. After all, Thomas Shelby does what he wants.

He discreetly opened the door of your room and closed it in silence, so you wouldn’t panic. Thanks to the moonlight, he saw you, the blanket between your thighs, your white nightie pulled up to the top of your thighs, your nipples up and you, rubbing against your blanket. Eyes closed, focused on your pleasure, a pout on your face because you tried to better, you couldn't see him. Discreetly, he came closer, then just as he let his hands go on your thighs, he murmured: "I'm here, love".

You jumped slightly and then your cheeks flushed with shame, embarrassment. You pushed his hands so warm, callused, so pleasant on your silky skin.

"I-I ... Tommy, you’re n-not allowed to be here ... Oh ... Oh my God! " You felt so ashamed that you felt tears coming to your eyes. What have you done? You realized you had just done something wrong, you had sinned. And the fact that Shelby was there, the man you were in love with, made it worse.

Seeming to perceive distress in your body language, Tommy grabbed your face between his hands and kissed every part of your face, whispering "It doesn't matter, it's human." He refused to let you regret, to let you feel dirty for the most human thing. In his eyes, sex should not be seen as something degrading, shameful. But it wasn’t easy to make you understand this, a little Catholic virgin. Meanwhile, as he continued to have a hard-on, he felt the need to act and to cum inside of you. How hard it was not to jump on you!

"Look at me." He ordered.

One simple sentence, and you executed. He looked deep into yours eyes as he stroked your cheeks.

"You’ve done nothing wrong.", he tried to reassure you. How you loved him so much! You drank his words, you believed him on words and your eyes stopped getting wet, the shame dissipated. And yet, you felt your intimacy so wet that it became embarrassing, the fabric of your white panties perfectly matched the shapes of your labia, as it became transparent. Without doing anything, it was impossible not to smell that odor... The smell of desire, of sex. The cheeks still peonies, you gestured in the hope that the fabric would let your sex breathe better ; it was effectless. You don't take your nightie down. Your nipples remained erect and, when he squinted his eyes, he wondered if you were as wise as you let him pretend, because he saw your pink nipples show through the fabric. An almost transparent white nightie. Without realizing it, one of his hands slid over his crotch. He holds back a sigh of distress. Never had he been so excited and even less, unable to do anything.

His gaze fell on your swollen mouth, then he pressed his lips against yours. Against all expectations, you responded to his kiss. You lacked of experience, but you learned very quickly. Tommy was leading the dance between your tongues and soon his body covered yours. He slipped between your thighs where his cock was trying somehow to free itself from his clothes, while his pants rubbed against your wet intimacy. His hands slipped under your nightie and caressed your breasts. Tenderly. With passion. With desire. He took off your nightie and then covered your chest with wet kisses, until he let his tongue do the rest of the work. He went down to your panties, which he removed with his teeth. He had a perfect view of your intimacy, almost devoid of hair, to his amazement. He got a perfect view of the object of his desires.

"Tommy... We can't... It's wrong... Religion forbids me to do this kind of thing before marriage..." you meowed when you were as desperate as he was, even if you didn't know exactly what your body was asking for.

"I will marry you, Y/N."  Your eyes widened at the revelation as your heartbeat quickened again.

Tommy was sincere. He was a man of words. You would become his wife soon and he knew your father wouldn’t say no if he asked for your hand. That was all it took for you to be transported to the gates of the pleasures of the flesh. The man released his penis from his pants and then from his briefs, which restrained him. The sight of his sex, long, thick, hard, provoked in you an immense wave of heat. Without knowing why, you felt the urge to lick his reddened glans with an intense excitement. So you listened to you body and leaned over his sex to place many kisses there and then lick the wet tip, covered with pre-cum. Tommy had never been so hard, actually it was even painful. Soon, he needed to slip his cock into your pussy! But he was patient, he wanted to be gentle for your first time. You would be the angel who would heal him from his wounds, for sure.

He let you experiment on your own, then he made you fall on your back, slid your legs over his shoulders, to start devouring your labia. Just your sweet smell made him salivate. He kissed, licked as much as he could. Never had he lingered so much on a woman's intimacy. He knew at this time, no one would hear you, because your parents' room was too far away to hear such sinful noises and everyone was sleeping.

When he was finished, he straightened up and rubbed his cock against your clitoris, your labia and then the vagina entrance. The fact that he would be the first (and probably the last) excited him even more. Finally, he penetrated you with a groan as you moaned. You were so excited that you didn't feel any pain. He waited a few moments for you to adapt to his presence, then he began the first back and forth movements, under your innocent moans. It was so good that you didn’t know where to turn, the moans gushed out of your mouth without you being able to contain them and you grabbed Tommy's arms so he wouldn’t stop. You never wanted it to stop. The more it continued, faster, stronger, with certain angles, the better it was. You could no longer think for yourself. Your animal instinct controlled your body. You just knew it was what you wanted: Tommy, deep inside you. For his part, Tommy couldn't help but growl, it was so... Delicious. Ecstasy without having reached orgasm yet. He didn't think of anything either. The bed creaked and pounded on the wall with his movements, but he didn't care. God knows he was refraining from fucking you with more savagery! He preferred to stay on basics for the moment, in the missionary position. Sometimes, he watched his cock come out of your vagina and pussy lips engorged with blood, reddened by the act. He saw Evil dirtying Purity; this vision gave him more pleasure.

The pleasure increased more and more. Orgasm was approaching. When the supreme pleasure swept over you, you no longer saw anything, you couldn’t hear yourself screaming in pleasure, to the point where Tommy had no choice but to put his hand over your mouth. His increasingly irregular movements as he moaned testified to one thing: he was also reaching the seventh heaven. His hands were encrusted on your hips, you would have marks. He emptied his seed inside of you, while your pussy contracted around him. A few seconds later, he pulled out and watched his sperm leak out of your vagina to stain your sheets. The sight made him smile, you were full of his cum and with all that amount, he suspected that you could get pregnant. Usually, he didn't cum inside, but with you .. The question hadn't arisen.

You could throw your panties in a trash can, the maid who would do the laundry would have no doubts about what you had done and warn your mother. Anyway, if you were going to keep it a secret, it was fucked up. Your sheets were filled with his seed and with that, your parents will know pretty soon that Tommy Shelby will have taken your virginity.

Tommy slept with you that night. The next morning, he engaged in a serious discussion with your father to ask him for your hand, something he accepted. So much the better because a few minutes later, your mother's screams rang out throughout the manor... She had just discovered that her daughter was no longer innocent.

Three months after losing your virginity, you became a Shelby. You had a sumptuous marriage, perhaps even more incredible than Grace, because this time, the two families got along pretty well. Mistrust was on the side of the Shelby family, they thought this story waq rather strange, it was going quite quicky… Linda complained to you, she didn't know how you could have fallen into Tommy's arms , “the poison of this family ", according to her, since she left Arthur. Ada was adorable. The rest of the family wasn't a problem, frankly, they liked to make fun of you but always kindly because they knew they would be dealing with Tommy. As for Polly, she did everything in her power to guess your intentions until she finally liked you. She liked your innocent side, you wouldn’t create problems and you were Catholic, so you were "perfect", according to her. She was the one who told you that you were going to have a baby boy.

Nine months after losing your virginity, you gave birth to a wonderful baby boy, as Polly predicted.

Subsequently, you had two more children, another boy and a girl. And in view of your young age, but also of your sexual activity with Thomas, the latter had no doubt about the possibility of the arrival of several other children… This didn’t change his love for his two eldest children, Ruby and Charles.

***

I hope you like your imagine, little anon ♡ (you asked me a lot of things, so I focused on the virginity and I hope it’s okay. Don’t hesitate to give me your feedback)

[aer-in-wanderland]

hello! i see you're often dissatisfied with the official translations for tale of the nine tailed. i also always want to know exactly what the characters are saying and it saddens me to see changes in the translations. are there any translations of lee yeon/nam ji ah dialogue that you thought were particularly inaccurate? how would you render them?

Hello! I’m afraid you may have opened Pandora’s box with this one haha

First off, most (if not all) of the subs you’re seeing going around aren’t official translations but rather fansubs. Because fansubs go up as fast as possible there’s no time for review or editing, and this often means they leave a lot to be desired. As someone who has done a good amount of professional translation, I tend to put a lot of thought into ensuring that not only the content, but also the context and tone of my translations are accurate. It’s an art, not a science. 

To answer your question, though, there are a few Yeon/Ji Ah interactions I can think of where the subs particularly bugged me.

The first is from EP05, when Ji Ah presses Yeon to tell her how Ah Eum died. 

Yeon tells her, ‘It has nothing to do with you’ (or even more neutrally, ‘it’s unrelated to you’ but that’s an uncommon phrasing in English). The sub here was, ‘It’s none of your business,’ which is another way you could translate that, but it’s both less literal and also more callous than I felt Yeon was being here. 

In response, Ji Ah insists she knows it does (have something to do with her). Yeon’s response was subbed, ‘At times, it’s better to be in the dark. So live your life as the clueless person you have been.’ This is taking a lot of license and not in a good way. I would have translated Yeon’s response as follows:

Yeon: At times...there are times when knowing something becomes poison. Please just keep living as you are now, not knowing.  

First off, to my thinking there’s a big difference between ‘being in the dark’ and ‘knowledge can be poison,’ which is actually what he says. Second, he says absolutely nothing to the effect of ‘clueless person.’ He does literally say ‘not knowing anything,’ but I would have left out the ‘anything’ because it changes the tone of the sentence. It’s technically correct from a one-to-one translation standpoint, but ultimately wrong in terms of communicating what he means and how he means it. Finally, while he doesn’t literally say ‘please,’ what he does say (‘살아주라’) is the imperative form of the verb (to live) + ‘ju-da’ grammar pattern, which holds the implication that she is doing it for his sake. 

The sub here really bugged me because it made it sound like Yeon was condescending to Ji Ah, saying that she should just keep on being ignorant, when in fact he was asking her very plaintively to trust him and accept not knowing. Overall, I thought it misrepresented his character in an unflattering light so it stuck with me. 

Another example of a sub that bothered me is from EP12, when Ji Ah’s parents ask Yeon what he likes about Ji Ah and Yeon tells them being with her comforts him (paraphrasing). The translation of Ji Ah’s line that followed that was a bit problematic for me. The sub here read, ‘But Yeon made me realize...that we’re supposed to live in the shadows...of the people we rely on. I wanted to be that kind of person too.’ I would have translated this as:

Ji Ah: But I met Lee Yeon and came to understand: people live their lives in the shadow of someone they can depend upon. I have to become that type of person too.

You can see there’s not too much difference (other than the ‘supposed to’ and the ‘wanted to’ - not sure where they got that) and that’s because the main issue here is actually cultural. In English, if we say you’re living in someone’s shadow it’s a negative thing, but Ji Ah is actually making a reference to traditional Korean wedding vows, in which the groom pledged to become a tree and the bride his shadow. That’s obviously a carry-over from a more antiquated time in gender relations, but the image of the tree remains that of something that provides shelter from the elements. So, to live in someone’s shadow in this case actually means to live being protected and cared for by them. This is in direct contrast to her telling Yeon in EP06 not to be too good to her for fear that she’d come to depend on him. It shows character growth. And Ji Ah is saying that she also wants to be that someone for Yeon. 

Since there’s no way to explain that context in the subs, though, I might have taken some creative license and changed ‘shadow’ to ‘shelter’ or something to that effect. It would be more of a departure from the literal, but somewhat closer to the intended meaning. 

Another exchange that I felt could have been translated better was from the night scene on the beach in EP13 when Ji Ah asks Yeon if he remembers the first time he met her. 

Yeon: Of course I remember. I spent my life working to catch others, but you were the first person who chased after me so ferociously saying they were going to catch me. 

Ji Ah: At that time I should have just confessed ferociously. If I had, the time we could have spent being happy not knowing anything would've been just a little bit longer. 

I don’t remember exactly what the sub said, only that it left out the word ‘ferocious,’ which they both used. I thought it was a very Ji Ah thing to say - that she should have confessed ferociously instead of chasing him ferociously, and you can see Yeon look at her when she says it.  

Another thing that dropped out at times was the humour. One recurring joke they use plays off the word for ‘bastard,’ which translates literally as ‘baby dog’ or ‘child of a dog’ (kae-saekki). Putting ‘kae’ (dog) in front of anything turns it into a curse word actually. [Edit: It’s also used as an intensifier in modern slang similar to how the f-word is used in English]. As you might imagine, this gets a lot of mileage in relation to Rang, our resident 600-year old baby fox. So in EP03 when Yeon and Rang fight on the island, Yeon makes this joke:

Yeon: They say you’re supposed to raise wild children* with a firm hand (literally: hit them as you raise them), but I couldn’t do that, so I ended up raising a baby fox into a bastard (baby dog), didn’t I?

Rang: And who was the jerk who kicked that baby (saekki) to the curb? You treat me like a stray dog any chance you get. 

Yeon: My little brother, I’ll have to gift you a muzzle this Christmas. 

Because the dog jokes dropped out ‘muzzle’ became ‘mouthguard,’ which is less funny and also makes no sense out of context. [*Edit: Also, thinking about it again, I still would have used ‘muzzle’ since that implies that Yeon means to protect the world from Rang whereas ‘mouthguard’ is more about protecting Rang.]

[*Edit: the word used here is 호로자식, which many Koreans understand to mean something like a barbarian child, but the true origin, as it turns out, is a parentless child. It’s also used predominantly by grandpas/old men hehe]

Another funny moment came when Ji Ah asks Yeon for his phone number in EP04:

Yeon: Nice. Your character is very consistent. 

Ji Ah: I get that a lot.

There’s no good way to translate Ji Ah’s line, but she literally says ‘I hear that curse (yok) a lot,’ implying that people say this to her and mean it as an insult/in a ‘goddamn you’ sort of way...to which Yeon nods as if to say, ‘makes perfect sense.’ haha

Finally, there were times when the subs were just straight-up wrong. When Yeon is telling Ji Ah about how he met Ah Eum in EP05, he says she was so cute he hit her once and then sent her on her way. Ji Ah prompts him saying, ‘And then?’ To which Yeon responds that she went down the mountain in tears but then returned to chase after him with her bow in tow. The subtitle said something like ‘she left and returned within the day,’ and I honestly can only assume whoever was translating it wasn’t sure what was said and just wrote something likely based on context because it’s such a loose estimation.

Sorry this is so long. It’s nowhere near an exhaustive list, but hopefully it gives you an idea of some of the things that catch my attention when I watch the subbed version. If there are specific scenes you’d like to see me translate, feel free to send me another ask. =)

[ipuckwithhockey]

Always In Your Corner- Part 4

a/n: Originally this chapter was going to be a little longer, but I’m not satisfied with the second half so I decided to go ahead and post. Sorry about the long wait! Please ignore my grammar mistakes. I hope y’all enjoy! Let me know what you think!

Summary: You were happily engaged to your perfect boyfriend when everything came tumbling down on you. The person you turned to just so happened to be your long time friend, Boone Jenner. The ever loyal Boone is there to help you get back on your feet. Little did you know, Boone had been pining after you for all these years, he’s just not sure if you’ll ever feel the same way about him.

Warnings: mentions of cheating, swearing, drinking

-------

Almost a year later…

The season wasn’t quite under way yet, but everyone was back in Columbus for camp and preseason. The summer without Boone was a long one, but it was good for you to be independent after relying on him for so long. You still talked everyday and he came back to Ohio a couple of times to visit. Since he got back you’ve been spending more and more time together. Boone would be lying if he said that one of his trips back to Columbus was just for a voluntary charity event. He would have used any excuse to be back in the city with you.

You had grown a lot since you walked out on Craig. Living on your own was a hard transition but you got the hang of it. You were starting to find the head strong and excited girl you used to know. You also felt like you had finally started becoming your own person, independent from a man. For the first time you did what you wanted, when you wanted, and you loved that part. There were always days that were harder than others, but you had come along way, and you were proud of yourself.

The first time you ran into Craig was definitely one of the hard days.

It was nearly six months after you had walked out, and shortly after Columbus had been knocked out of the playoffs. You were walking out of a coffee shop one morning when you saw Craig, hand in hand with Chelsea. They looked happy and if you hadn’t known them you would have thought they made a cute couple, but you did know them. You knew that she was the girl who your fiancé had slept with. You also knew, that the blame couldn’t just be put on her. Craig made the choice just as consciously as she had.

You thought that if you looked down and didn’t say anything they may not even notice you, but just as you passed them you heard Craig’s voice, “Y/N? Is that you?”

“Oh hey! I didn’t even see you guys!” You probably seemed too eager, but they were both being overtly nice too.

“Wow, I didn’t even recognize you at first.” Craig was probably referencing the hard work you had been putting in at the gym over the last few months, in an attempt to help yourself get back on track.

“Your hair is a lot longer, I don’t think I’ve ever seen it styled like that.” Chelsea was now referencing your grown out hair that you recently added some highlights to. You knew she was trying hard to make polite conversation. You hadn’t been dying to do go full on break up bangs, but you figured some fresh color couldn’t hurt.

“It looks really good,” Craig was looking at you, and you knew he was looking at you in a way a taken man shouldn’t be looking at a single girl. You knew that look, proving that you still knew parts of him like the back of your hand. But the thing was, he was never a huge fan of your hair when it was long. Once he even said that he thought you should keep you hair short like some celebrity he had seen on tv. You always thought it was kind of sweet that he cared about little things like how your hair was, but now you saw how controlling he was.

You wanted to be the bigger person, you wanted to just let it go, but you couldn’t, “That’s funny, you never liked my hair when it was long,” You let out a laugh as a weak attempt at keeping it light. You could tell Chelsea was uncomfortable and Craig was searching for the right thing to say. “Well, it was good seeing you guys, but I’ve really got to run!” You gave a fake smile and made your way back down the street to where you had parked your car.  

Finally, you got to the car and you slammed your door shut behind you. In the silence of your car, your strong facade was stripped away, and you felt tears pierce the corners of your eyes. Feelings of sadness, embarrassment, and anger filled you to the brim. For months you had been working on recovering from your downfall, and in this moment you couldn’t help but feel like it was all for nothing.

It’s like Boone knows when you need him, and you felt your phone vibrate in the pocket of your jacket. When you looked down and saw that it was him you automatically answered it, “Hey B, what’s up? Miss me already?” You tried to hide your uneven breathing caused by your sobs from a few seconds ago, but it did little to deter from the fact that you had been crying.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen? I’ll get on the next flight to Columb-“

“Boone, I’m fine. Really. I just ran into Craig and Chelsea, and I know it’s stupid, but it just sucked seeing them together and now I’m just crying in my car, and I’m pretty sure I freaked out some little kid when he walked by because I look scary when I ugly cry.” You stumbled your way through the rest of the story and Boone did his best to understand you through your crying and hiccups. When you first went to stay with Boone, you had been reluctant to share things with him, not wanting to overshare or burden him with too much. Now, you were more comfortable talking with him, even if he did have to pry a little at first. 

“I’m not sure if I got all of that, but fuck him. He’s a loser and so is that Chelsea bitch. I wouldn’t care what you did with your hair. Your hair is great, don’t get me wrong, but it isn’t the only reason you’re beautiful. You’re a good person, and you’re probably the smartest person I know. You’re funny, even though I hate to admit it.n Plus, you’ve got killer friends, like me. I meant it when I said I would come back. If you need me, I’m there. You know that.”

You of course hadn’t asked him to come back, but take note that his protective manner towards you has definitely grown over the last few months. After reassuring him that you were going to be fine, you decided that you weren’t going to wallow in this. It was in the past, and you knew then more than ever, that you had made the correct decision in leaving Craig.  

Tonight, Alexander’s girlfriend Felicia, was throwing a party for his birthday. As always you were invited, and Janelle had insisted that you come. This was their last big hurrah before the season started, and most the mom’s in the group had made sure to get babysitters for the special occasion.

The “small party” you were invited to didn’t seem that small when you arrived. The house party was full of people you didn’t recognize and it wasn’t until you made it to the kitchen that you found some familiar faces.

“HEYY! Y/N! YOU CAME!!” Pierre and some of the other guys cheered and pulled you into hugs as you entered the kitchen.

“I don’t think Janelle really gave me a choice.” You’re laughing but everyone standing around knows that it’s true. She can be very persuasive.

Pierre starts making you a drink when you feel an arm come around your side. You don’t even have to look beside you to know that it’s Boone. You take in his scent and the safety of his arms settle you in this crazy party setting.

“Hey, there you are.” He greets you.

“Hey,” The way Boone looks down at you makes your heart rate rise. Lately, you’ve been feeling differently around Boone, and it’s taking everything in you to suppress those feelings, especially with Boone’s arm hanging around your body. You wonder if he’s noticed that your hugs have been a little longer and that you keep to his side more often.  You try to tell yourself that it’s because you have become closer friends, and not because you might have feelings for him. 

“So, who’s going to claim me for their beer pong team?” You ask the room, and all the guys jump at the offer. You were known as a pretty big competitor on the Jacket’s beer pong circuit. Usually Josh would rope you into being his partner, but tonight Boone seemed eager to draft you for his team.

An hour later, you and Boone have basically defeated all of your worthy opponents, and you part ways to get a new drink. Josh and Seth wave down Boone to come join their conversation.

“So what’s going on man?” Seth asks.

“What do you mean? I just kicked your ass in beer pong!” Boone chirps back at Seth knowing that’s not what he’s talking about. The guys, and even some of the girls have asked him about the status of your relationship. The thing is, nothing has actually changed.

When Boone got back to Columbus a couple weeks ago you started to hang out almost everyday. Whenever either of you had time free, you were together. The ‘hello’ and ‘goodbye’ hugs seemed to linger longer, as did the accidental touches, and cuddling on the couch.

“Dude, what’s going on with you and Y/N? You guys both look at each other with heart eyes. It’s disgusting, but it would be better if you just made a fucking move. At least just fuck already! I think everybody in here can feel the awkward sexual tension!” Josh is chiming in now, and the alcohol he has consumed is making him a little more liberal with his words.

“Fuck off man. We’ve barely even seen each other in the past four months. I’m not sure if she’s ready to date at all, let alone wants to date me.” Boone chooses to ignore the “fucking” suggestion.

“Booner, I say this with the utmost respect, but you’re a fucking idiot.” Seth just pats him on the back and leaves the two other guys to talk.

While Boone goes to hang with the boys, some of the WAGs pull you into their conversations. Eventually Felicia pops the same question, “So, what’s going on with you and Boone?” Everyone is quick to turn to you with big eyes, waiting for a big reveal that isn’t going to come. “Nothing, we’re just friends.” You shrug and hope that they will leave it alone. You had been feeling differently about Boone lately, but you couldn’t let yourself think about it that way. He was your friend, and he helped you get back on your feet when the world’s biggest asshole cheated on you. You probably just thought you liked him because he was so nice to you. He would do anything for you because he’s your friend, not because he has feelings for you.

“Ok, you can keep living in denial, but all of us will be over here waiting for you guys to get your shit together and just confess your love to one another!” Janelle has been on you about this since they got back to Columbus, saying that you needed to get back out there, and that Boone was perfect for you. She insisted that he had feelings for you too, but you knew she was just determined to get you back into the dating scene.

Boone watches you from across the party and wonders what you are talking about. He thinks about how well you fit into his life here in Columbus. Natalie Atkinson must have said something funny, causing you to laugh. He loved watching you throw your head back when you laughed. For a long time after Craig he wasn’t sure when the next time he would see that would be.

He didn’t want to seem too clingy, especially with the guys already on his back about the two of you, so he tried to keep a safe distance for most of the night. He made sure to keep an eye on you for two reasons: one being he wanted to make sure you were safe and the second being the fact that he quite literally couldn’t help himself from watching you.

Throughout most of the night you talk with the other girls, but somehow Pierre and Tex pulled you into doing shots. It was nice to let your hair down a bit, but your alcohol tolerance wasn’t anywhere close to that of the hockey players you were trying to keep up with. It’s not until almost 2am that Boone finds his way back to your side. Somehow Boone had been pulled into a deep debate over whether or not a hotdog was a sandwich, and had missed you getting pulled into doing shots. When he glanced around the room to find you he didn’t see you, so he went to see if you were in the kitchen. That’s where he found you, multiple shots in, with Pierre and Tex.

“Hey, where have you been?” Your words are definitely slurring, and you can’t stop yourself from wrapping your arms around his neck. He looks so good tonight and your inhibitions have been clouded with alcohol.

“I’ve been here the whole time, but it looks like these guys have gotten you into some trouble.” Pierre and Tex are trying to play coy and leave the two of you in the kitchen before they get scolded anymore. You’re just trying to focus on Boone and not on the fact that his hands are balancing you on your hips.

“Well I missed you,” not able to control your tongue, some honest thoughts escape your mouth. 

“I missed you too, but we should probably get you home.” He laughs. 

Boone, ever the responsible adult, stopped drinking a while ago and was planning on driving home. The two of you say your goodbyes as you continue to hang onto his sturdy arm.

“Do you need help getting in the car?”

“No. I can do it!” The false sense of confidence that was induced from alcohol gave way when you tried to lift your leg to the car step. You about fell on your ass. Boone was of course there to catch you, and help you into the car. He makes sure you’re all buckled in before he hops in the driver’s seat, and pulls out of the drive.

“Hey Boone?” You move your head to face him and you admire the way his beard is perfectly trimmed to emphasize the outline of his strong jaw.  He’s just so goddamn handsome under the lights that line the streets of downtown Columbus.

“Yes?”

“Can we go back to your place? Cus, it’s just that, your bed is so much comfier than mine, like it’s just so warm and cozy. And it smells so good.”

He can’t help but laugh at how cute and small you sound, “Sure, but you know you have the same mattress at your house, right?” He glances over to see you staring up at him.

“Yeah, I know. But it’s not the same….”

“…Hey B, you’re pretty handsome, you know that? Like you’re kind of a total man rocket.” He can’t help but laugh, but your confession lingers in his mind. Maybe you did feel something for him… 

You can’t really stop yourself now, words are falling out of your mouth without warning. “You’re like way hotter than Craig ever was. AAND you’re so nice. Like what’s with guys being selfish assholes all the time? But you’re not like that. You’re one of the good ones. Some girl is gonna be really really lucky one day.”

Once your rant is over neither of you say much else until you pull into Boone’s apartment. You’ve dozed off, and Boone is careful not to wake you as he picks you up out of the passenger seat. When he makes it into the apartment he brings you to his room and sets you gently on the bed. He works to take your shoes off and moves around quietly, getting ready for bed.

“Hey B?”

Your whisper startles Boone at first, but he moves over to check on you, sitting on the edge of the bed, “Yeah? What’s up?”

“You’re not gonna leave are you?” The look in your glazed over eyes could have broken his heart. He wasn’t ever going to leave you.

“Not if you don’t want me too.” You give him a soft smile back as he moves to turn the light off. When he gets into bed, you roll over to snuggle into his side, and his natural reaction is to wrap his arms around you. The way your bodies fold into each other feels so right, and even though you’re halfway passed out, you can’t help but feel a sense of serenity wash over you.  

Just as you’re about to fall back to sleep you ask again, “Hey B?”

“mhmm?”

“I love you.”

[kanene-yaaay]

Could and Should

Kanene’s note: *Looking at this monster*

LOOK-

LOOK-

I DUNNO. I DON’T HAVE ANY IDEA OF HOW OR WHY THIS IS LIKE IT IS.

I just- dfghjkkjhgfdfghiopoiuytr xDDDD. Oh gosh. This is for an experiment. I’m dfgyhjukikjhgffv xDD. Someone save my soul.

Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:

* Lee!Roman and Ler!Logan/Ler!Janus (Kind of. Because there is no tickles here, just teasing) Romantic Pairing. Human AU.

* Mentions of intense tickling 

* Hmmm… This is a Tickle-Fanfic! If you don’t like this kind of stuff, please look for another blog, there are plenty of amazing art in this site!! ‘u’).

* This have 4.200 of Roman just being A BRAT.  ‘w’)b.

* Also, if you’re not comfortable reading about Janus, he only shows himself (but being mentioned before) after the “(...)”, so feel free to stop reading there if you wanna! <3

* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! I didn’t proofread that one very well, so I will probably be correcting a few things later. Any advice is always very, very welcome!

* They’re very gay and this fanfic is inspired in this post. (I’m trying to find it. It’s a post about brat lees and shy lers, give me a sec-).

* A versão em português brasileiro irá ser escrita, ainda. Eu espero! Thankys for reading, my lollipops! Do something crazy today, take a good rest, talk with the one that you love and drink water! Byeioo!~

                               [~*~]

He wore his favorite boots. Hamilton’s playlist blasting in his room and giving him a more than good reason to sporadically throw the outfit he choose for that specific day together with his makeup onto the bed and swirl across the place singing and performing ‘My shot’ with all his being, increasing even further his excitement and adrenaline which were already running, probably breaking all the speed limits in his veins and soul.

 Especially when he thought about what he was about to do.

There were many differences in the world: right and wrong, day and night, divergent opinions, divergent ways to see the world and even differences in the meanings of words depending on where exactly you are localized in the planet. Roman grew attentive to this after he started to be Logan and Janus’ boyfriend, both of them always using every and any opportunity to begin a whole discussion about moral, philosophers, really weird humans habits - Particularly slangs. These two nerds seemed to simply don’t understand an infinitesimal piece of their existence. It was precious admire their confused and frustrated faces every time he and Virgil decided to shout or recreate vines together. -  Or animals habits (Roman isn’t able to even look at a dolphins after that one) more often than the one with dyed hair was willing to try to count.

 “Oh, yeah.” He spun before his body mirror, doing some poses as an extremely confident and shiny smile took over his features. This was one of those days when he felt just like a perfect dose of absolutely amazing. “I’m digging my own grave, aren’t I?”

 Yes. Roman didn’t doubt a fraction of second about this. However, he thought in the same moment a smirk bloomed itself in his face, leading his expression to gather a particularly malefic look, he couldn’t stop imagining how much he would love every second of all of this.

 Roman adjusted his clothes, his fingers tracing the golden words in it.

 Every. Second.

 So… Of course. Perhaps Roman wasn’t a nerd about concepts or meaning or even differences as his two incredibly smart boyfriends, but he knew very well that there was a clear distinction between what he “could do” and he what “should do”. He understood that not everything that is possible to be done had to be done and not everything that should be done in every single occasion was something possible to be done. This was only normal and simple common sense, right?

 Roman finally arrived The Place, the wooden door shutting with a soft ‘click’ behind him, which was immediately muffled by his steps, those almost as echoing as the dangerous gleam in his eyes when they focused on (poor) Logan, who had just closed the cash register and now adjusted his glasses in order to be presentable to attend the new client. When the latter fixed his glare on him, the welcome sentence he should say died in his tongue in the exact moment he acknowledged who just arrived. 

 Then it was a good thing that Roman didn’t had a single drop of common sense, right? The one with dyed hair decided proudly amused as he observed the blush consuming entirely his boyfriend’s face.

 In the last week Logan and Janus ganged up on him with ruthless teases before, during and after their tickle fight - ‘tickle fight’ obviously being an euphemism for the way they both suddenly squished the smaller between them and started to tickle him with those stupid, beautiful smirks and teases whispered on his ears that happen or not to be extremely sensitive, which should be UTTERLY,  DEFINITELY AND ABSURDLY illegal. - And the aforementioned knew, deep inside he really recognized that - technically - he didn’t had any obligation to get revenge on them.

 But he wanted.

 Also, he could, therefore he should.

 And that was exactly what he was doing in this very same heartbeat.

 “Logaan!” He opened his arms, aware of how this showed even more his skin, while got confidently closer in his red, adorned with some special golden details, crop top.

 Logan couldn’t deviated his glare, no matter how conscious he was that his whole face betrayed his neutral expression as it painted itself in dark and darker shades of red. His eyes running nonstop in the words on the other’s vestments, as if they mocked of him and his necessity of keeping a professional and serious facade during his work.

 Tickle me, Elmo~

 Logan’s gaze inevitably went to the - immensely ticklish, his mind unhelpfully remembered him - totally unprotected belly from the other’s. His fingers twitched, clawing the air for a moment before he realized what he was doing, deciding to deviate his gaze to the cash register before him, the adjustment of his tie taking more time than it would usually do. 

 “Ouch.” He could almost hear the pout in his dramatic boyfriend’s voice – if he really stopped to consider, which he already did previously, Roman and Janus were almost tied when the subject was about their dramas. - as he positioned himself right in front of him, almost laying his torso entirely in the balcony in order to find his glare again and, as always, Logan couldn't help but let himself be captured for his beautiful eyes. “I came here in a good, impressive, romantic act to accompany my dear beloved during his break and that is how you pay me, not even looking me in my fabulous face? I feel wounded.”

 Logan scoffed, already signaling for one of his coworkers to take his place as he removed his hat, folding it carefully and putting in his pocket while he moved to the small space between the employee’s place and the costumer’s room, Roman cleverly taking some quick steps to put a bigger distance between both. 

 “I highly doubt that this is the reason of why you’re here today.” His gaze got back to the words printed on his crop top, a malefic gloom getting stronger in his eyes, his feet leading him closer, and closer and closer. “Actually, I’m certain of the real meaning behind this ‘visit’ as you say.” And closer and closer and-

 “Nah ah ah!” Roman shook his index finger almost in his face, taking the opportunity to move some meters away. “Now, now, Logan, I would expect better of you! No love business during the shift, remember?” Teasing smile. “Keep these silly hands to yourself, would ya?”

 Logan.exe had clearly stopped working. It was easy to say for the way his furrowed brow and very confused look stared at him with such honestly that Roman couldn’t help but let a laugh out, quickly holding Logan’s hand and dragging him to the farther table on the establishment.

 “I wasn’t thinking on this and you know it very well, Roman.” The one called only smiled, letting go of his hand in order to taking a seat.

 “Is that so?” He purred, his chin resting on his hand as Logan tried to sit next to him. “It’s not what it looks to me.”

 Logan deadpanned at him rolling his eyes and internally considering his words – because the poor guy couldn’t bear the thought of breaking a rule. - before going, instead, to the chair in front of his boyfriend with a quick  “Very well, then.”

 “So, how is your day doing?” Roman dropped his teasing for a bit. “Is that okay?” He whispered, the honest questions making a soft expression took over the features of the one who wears glasses. He signed, his lips going slightly up as he gave an almost unnoticeable nod. 

 “My professor is crazy and absurdly unaware of how much time a normal day possess, I’m certain. Our final presentation was quite… adequate, but-” The listener let himself be carried into his venting, having no idea of what he was talking about, however trusting him to elucidate his mind in maybe some minutes. It didn’t lasted long before Logan started to divagate about the last subject learned and Roman felt in a secure ground to begin tapping in the suffice of the table.

 Persistently. Rhythmically.

 “And saying this means that, when compared to every other person on humanity-” Roman tapped a bit louder and Logan’s left eyebrow trembled for some seconds. Nice. He was getting his attention. “-We have only, genetically saying, 0,02% of difference- Could you stop this?”

 Roman blinked innocently, almost seeing the gears of one in front of him moving at full speed in his mind as he repeat the sentence, the tip of his finger colliding in the wooden surface purposely.  A dash, two dots, dash dot dash dot, dash dot dash, dot dash two dots and one dot, a quick space, two dashes and a final dot.

 Logan’s eyes concentrated in his fingers, he repeated the pattern, his smile increasing.

 Tickle me. Tickle me. Tickle me. Tickle me. Tickle me. Tickle me. 

 He could see the exact moment when Logan understood it. It was in the same heartbeat that light blush found room on his cheeks and he deviated his gaze, cracking his fingers.

 “Stop what? I’m doing nothing.” Roman wriggled his fingers of his free hand, the sentence still echoing between them.

 Tickle me. Tickle me. Tickle me. Tickle me. Tickle me. Tickle me. 

 “You are literally asking for it.” The one who wears tie, and now a quite determined look, supported the weight of his body on his elbows as these rested on the table, leading to his whispers being audible only for them. “Be careful to don’t do something you will regret later, my very sensitive subject.”

 Tickle me. Tickle me. Tickle me. Tickle me. Tickle me. Tickle me. 

 “I’m not afraid of your ticklish” Roman absorbed the challenging tune as well, letting it slip slowly together with the words through his tongue. He refused to move or squirm under the other’s sparkling promises, his chin lifting some inches in the air. “Tickly” He knew how this word managed to fluster Logan and was quite of pleased for the way his boyfriend’s tip of ears gained a soft shade of red, refusing to acknowledge how hot his own face felt and was. “Tickles, mister.”

 “Oh, aren’t you?” Roman felt a wobbly, more uncontrollable, smile grow in his features despise his efforts as Logan backed again, his gaze resolute and analytical, his fingers crossing themselves in front of him, a parody of Sherlock Holmes that made tingles spread on each his tickle spots. “Well, that is a pleasing information that I will sure keep and use in another moment, be sure. We can’t touch, you said? Very well. In that case we will have so much fun for the next hours when I will explain to you, slowly and thoroughly all details of course, how I will tickle and destroy you and each and every one of your immensely ticklish, vulnerable and many, many spots which you so kindly choose to remind me.”

 Roman considered himself a really lucky person, but when - in that very glory moment - Logan’s phone rang, his alarm going off and breaking the concentration of the duo, he literally giggled in relief, knowing his personality well enough to be completely sure that Logan wouldn’t need much more than another two or three phrases like that to transforms him in a blushed, high-pinched giggly mess and he still had Janus to go, tease and try get some revenge and hopefully not die during the process.

 “It seems that you’ve been ‘saved by the bell’ as said.” Roman was sure he never heard this slang in his whole life, albeit he didn’t want to press further his luck, instead choosing to press his back on the wall in the seek to put the most inches of physically distance between him and Logan’s elaborated teases. “I shall go back to my work now. You’re so creative and imaginative, right? Try to not think in the thousands ways, figuratively talking or not, I will wreck you when I get home.”

 He then turned away.

 And Roman knew, believe me, he really, really, really knew very well he shouldn’t press his luck any further.

 But he was always up to a challenge, anyway.

 Before he could even debate with his own conscience and common sense about how this was an absolutely horrible idea, Roman got up in a blink of eye and squeezed that exact point where Logan’s side connected with his hips, making the most serious one jump a few centimeters in the air, an almost yelp running from his lips. Logan stopped right on his tracks, not bothering himself to turn in the other's direction to stare with the corner of his eyes right in Roman's lee soul.

 “Te arrepentirás de hacer esto.” (You’re going to regret doing this.)

Roman felt his eyes widening as cold, panicked shivers ran across his spine, opening again that traitor wobbly smile on his face. Logan very rarely used Spanish, Roman’s first language, holding it for the special cases when he was on a full Ler mood, since it spiked the smaller sensitiveness to the atmosphere.

However, the latter couldn't help the answer which already escaped from his mouth and flied in the room.

 "Oh, will I?"

 "Sí." (Yes.) Logan smirked. Logan. Smirked. "Y yo voy me assegurar de esto." (And I will make sure of this.)

 ‘Oh. Mierda.' (Shit)

(...)

‘Well, he was already dead, wasn’t he?’ Roman thought as he at arrived Janus’ work ‘What more he had to lose?’

(He didn’t know who would be proudest for this optimism, Patton or Virgil.)

 The one with dyed hair forced himself to concentrate, cleaning his head of the previous teases just as using all his will power to ignore the uncountable butterflies profusely flying in his stomach. Janus was a very serious person in his work as well, but he wasn’t nearly fond to rules as the other and definitely more tricky and less going right on the spot than Logan.

 He was mostly like drag an only one finger around your worst spot, encircling it and watching  as you dissolve in desperate giggles while asked ‘What is the matter, dear, something is bothering you?’ and stay there, sometimes lightly attacking another spots so you can’t get used to the feeling but never staying for too long, until he is absolutely sure your sentiviness is at one hundred percent and so he can finally attack that helpless spot without a single drop of mercy. 

 Which was a technique very divergent of Logan’s, who would prefer to take, as everything in life, the moment as an experiment. First documenting out loud and on a specific archive in his cell phone all the things he would do with you, starting with spots he would “study”, techniques that should be “experimented” and sometimes tools which would “help him to get more accurate data”. He would document every single result, not bothering if Roman’s laughter got in the middle of it.

 “Ok. Ok. Okokokokokok!!” Roman almost squealed when a cold wind softly hit his skin, quickly rubbing his belly to get the ghost feeling of tickles away. Maybe, just MAYBE, enter into that rain of memories wasn’t a very good and clever way to calm and prepare himself for the danger he was about to face. He looked at the time on his phone, noticing Janus was already on his break and he would need to be quick if he wanted to do that.

 “Okay, Roman.” He murmured to himself, cleaning his crop top from any dust and walking confidently to the door. “You can do this. You are strong, you are brave, you know what you want and therefore you will get what you want! You will get into there, be amazing and get back your mean sneak boyfriend for every little single tease he dared to give to you! Because you are royalty and no one can win royalty!”

 ‘French Revolution.’ Some un-welcomed part of his brain remembered.

 ‘Shut up.’

 ‘Actually, is there any Royal Family in the power nowdays?’ It continued.

 ‘England.’

 ‘You are not in England.’ Shut!! up!!!

 Roman got inside and he managed to win the game, taking all the blows, walking proudly and - most important - not giggling when Janus fixed his hawk eyes on him and simply smiled back, gladly following him to the table they always went on the breaks without any attempt to get close or tickle him.

 As any other usual day, they sat there in silence, appreciating each other’s company and making small, quick talks between the sandwiches Roman bought them (He would do the same to Logan if he didn’t get dizzy eating during his work), and as any other day with no revenge planned, Roman finished his snack first and just stared at his beloved one.

 “This will not work with me. You know that I’m not Logan.” Janus didn’t even looked up his food, pointing in a casual voice. “But enough of me. Did you went to his work like this?”

 “Yes.” Roman couldn’t help the smirk opening in his face. Janus didn’t had an slightly idea of what was about to come. “Poor nerd. You should had seen how much red his face was! I thought for a moment I broke him.”

 “And you didn’t took a picture for me? Shame to you and your family.”

 “And your cow.” Janus scoffed for the reference he totally didn’t intend to make. “Also don’t try to play innocent, I know he probably already gave you an entire report of what happened and what you both will plan to do. I know you, you know?”

 If Janus was surprised, he only demonstrated this by a toothless smile painting itself on the corner of his mouth, his eyes still focused in his plate, the comfortable silence again falling against them.

 Roman started to humming. He wasn’t lying, he knew very well the same teasing wouldn’t work for both of them. Words were far better with Logan than Janus. But that didn’t mean that he haven’t planned what he would need to do.

 He was in the middle of “Itsy Bitsy Spider” when Janus started to grew slightly restless, his fingertips tapping on the table (not in a pattern, just annoyed) and his gaze running time from time to Roman and the words in his vestments. An evil idea crossed Roman’s mind and he started to humming the “Round, Round The Garden” patiently waiting for the moment Janus’ eyes finally dislodged themselves from his phone, turning his attention back to the first in the exact part of  ‘And tickle over here!’ the heartbeat chosen by Roman to poke his own belly button, letting out a soft ‘Boop’ noise fly from his lips.

 It was as if he was pressed an actual button instead of the one in his belly, because suddenly Janus’ whole face was dyed with a bright shade of red, quickly deviating his face to his device one more time, the resolute look in his expression only increasing more and more as Roman decided to repeat the movement a few more times.

 “Anyway.” Roman just smiled bright, blinking naively in Janus’ direction when the latter got up. “I’m done, wanna go to the parking lot?”

 That sounded like a trap, or probably was just the sound of his own phone buzzing in his pocket. He nodded and followed his boyfriend’s lead, the talking and sound of plates and cups clinking gradually fading behind them as they arrived to their destination, the one with dyed hair watching Janus’ acts carefully, but noticing no indications that he was about to do something.

 “Oh, I almost forgot. Is that okay?”

 Janus stopped for a little, fondly sighing and finally allowing himself to lock Roman’s eyes.

 “Yes. Just not around so many people next time, okay?”

 “Oh, gosh. Right, right! I, er… I apologize, dear. We can stop immediately! I can go to our home and get another shirt-” The rest of his sentence was interrupted as Janus captured his lips in a quick kiss, a smirk founding way to his fond expression.

 “I wouldn’t take you here if I wanted that to stop, don’t you think, my ticklish prince?”

 A blush spreaded across Roman’s cheeks, who was totally unprepared for the unexpected display of affection and specially the use of this specific nickname, a squeal escaping as some scribbles were left behind his ear, making him immediately jump and walk some centimeters away, a hand in front of his mouth in order to let any other sound escape. 

 “Hey, snake! Don’t you know that masterpieces are better left untouched?”

 Janus snorted and rolled his eyes, resting his back in the wall and looking back at his phone, which remembered Roman he had some messages as well.

 Janus sent 40 pictures

 ‘Pictures’ was a euphemism. Janus sent a fucking evil mix of images of brushes, feathers, electric toothbrushes buzzing and dragging across his skin, tingling and tickling and leading to snorts and giggles to come out from his lips, feeling that only increased as he went down the conversation, finding the tickle gifs of fingers scratching at his neck, scribbling in his unfairly ticklish armpits, poking his ribs, prodding his wiggly sides, kneading his thighs and spidering behind his knees. They flowed nonstop and felt almost real.

 “Oh my my, you always were weak for the teases, but you looove them, don’t you?” And it was true. Roman was already squirming and even starting to giggle uncontrollaby just for seeing Janus’ messages, his mind running and involving him in a sea of memories and shivers that ran across at every single centimeter of him, making his nerves to buzz and tingle and leading him to almost feel the ghost tickles again.

 However, when Roman found Janus’s glare, noticing that shine he knew so well and the smirk that made a smile split his face in half, he obligated himself to not deviate his glare or hide his giggles, to look him dead in his eyes and let the words fly freely from his mouth.

 “Yehehes. I do.”

 Janus face lighted up, not expecting such an honest answer. “So you admit it? Awww. You’re so adorable and precious.”

 “Yehes, I lohohove every single onhehe of them and how happyhi and excited they ahahall make me feel, juhuhus as I lohove when you and Logahan’s tickle mehe sohoho much. My heart melt wihihit how you are all so evil and yet so caring, mindful and cute. Ihihi swear I can almohohost explode of excitement when you chase me and yohohou hold me and tickle me more for running ahaway from the tickles. I love when you sing those horrible, atrocious, mean rhymes and when you ahahand Logan pretend to have a normal discussion as if you both weren’t wrehecking me. I love how silly and yet malefic, amazing tickle monsters you both can be and how vuhulnerable, happy, special and loved you make me feel. I lohove your whispered teases and your not-so-subtle ones. I love with all my sohoul all of this, but-” Roman took some steps in his direction, leaning closer to Janus’ ear.

 “I love even more that you are so baffled with me saying all these truths out loud that you didn’t even remembered to record it.”

 He tweaked Janus’ hips, watching he jump a few inches while he took the opportunity to move away, bright smile.

 “And I’m never saying this again.”

 Janus stepped closer, his eyes in a mix of pure adoration and danger that flamed and quickly consumed them. Roman lifted his finger, shaking it just as he made with Logan.

 “Nah ah ha. No touching, remember?”

 “Oh, really?” Janus moved to his direction. “I don’t think so. Not when such masterpiece so willing decided to come in here with so teasy, sweet words and cocky attitude. Give me a good reason to not pin you down right here and use all those good information you so cutely shared with me, my wiggle giggle lee.”

 “I will run.” Roman blurted out, his mind running, seeking for any excuse to keep his game going on.

 “I will catch you. I always do.”

 “If you attack me now you will not gang up with Logan later.”

 This made Janus stop, looking at his with a raise of eyebrow.

 Silence. Roman couldn’t even lessen the excited smile that took over his features, his muscles tensed and prepared to run for his life.

 “Very well.” And just like that Janus made his attention come back to the device in his hands leaving an atonished Roman to himself. He couldn’t believe his bluff had actually worked!

 Well, maybe he made it worse to himself? M a y b e. He didn’t know, he was just happy with himself at this point.

 “Well.” Janus looked at his clock. “My break was over, anyway. I see you later, lee.”

 Janus kissed Roman’s cheek and got into the store, rolling his eyes, exasperated when he looked behind him just to see his boyfriend no so subtly stretching all he could as he waved him a goodbye, blowing him a kiss.

 “He is so screwed when we get home.”

[rpbetter]

Traditional Writing Advice & RP

I see a lot of people reblogging writing advice posts, and while it pleases me to see people trying to appreciate RP as writing, those pieces of advice don’t always translate from traditional writing to RP writing.

Following the advice for writing a traditional book manuscript you want to have published, you are going to run into some issues if you follow every point of it faithfully in an RP setting.

For one thing, this isn’t just your story, you’re telling it with another writer. In RP, our reading audience and our writing partners are the same. We have to create well-written, engaging stories that are also meant to be picked up by someone else and furthered. For another, even among the most writing proficient RPers, this is a more relaxed style of writing for a reason; we’re writing neither a paper to be graded nor a work to be published, we’re expressing creativity with other people. It can fall flat quickly, to your writing partners and to yourself, if you are writing in an extremely formal manner in RP.

Writing is one of the creative pursuits that has lent itself heavily to what I’m going to politely call snobbery, and that is part of the problem here. The RPC is rather filled with muns who are self-concious, devalue themselves and their work, and can be desperate for the approval of being A Real Writer. If you love writing and you do write, you’re a writer. No, that definitely doesn’t make you a good writer, but following rules not meant for you isn’t going to make you one either.

There is a wrong way to write, actually, there are hundreds of wrong ways to write that make me want to rip my own face off on the regular. The thing is, there is no one-size-fits-all correct way to write any more than there is such a standard in visual art. There are principles that one should know and follow, but your style might be neoclassical or modern or impressionist. Saying that, in my personal opinion, things falling under the heading of modern-style art is horrid, thus inherently wrong and not art, I’d be imposing my personal aesthetics instead of encouraging people to follow appropriate principles, run with their passion and skill, and make art that moves people who are not me. That’s important, in general, but it’s even more important when we’re talking about creative art as a hobby-as a legitimate passion project one isn’t obliged to devote themselves to.

That’s the way we need to be looking at writing as well. Not as an academic and absolute Right Way, but as an art form that has principles, and indeed, literal form. By insisting otherwise, we’ve damaged writing as a hobby and a profession, and it really shows in the RPC where you have a rather stark division of muns who, on the one side, are so ate up with bizarre concepts their professor threw out about never using “said,” forcing the ideology of their personal academic experience on others, and using traditional writing advice as Word of God to shame others and elevate themselves. On the other side, you have a ton of muns who just won’t even bother anymore, and why should they? They’re genuinely not up to par, but working on it means both a process of shaming and killing their own creative experience.

In saying all this, I want to be really clear here: I am in no way saying that shitty writing, an inability to follow basic grammatical principles, being unwilling to use the damn spellcheck that is standard everywhere, and having no concept of things like storytelling, characterization, and word flow is excusable or ideal. 

It isn’t. It’s a terribly destructive force in the RPC, and I’m not in the camp of excusing disinterest in learning, improving, and perfecting one’s hobby because it is an unpaid hobby. In my opinion, it’s part of the blight of the current RPC. However, the snobbery and inability to recognize that there is nuance to learning and writing situations has done nothing but worsen this issue.

So, that being said, some items that are 100% good to use traditionally and in RP include:

Grammar, spelling, and punctuation.

We’re not all native English speakers, and grammar is difficult anyway. It can also turn a story bland with expedience when too properly adhered to. Know the basic principles, but also, be asking yourself about both popular works of fiction and your own favorite works. Chances are, they do not strictly adhere to the rules. Experienced, naturally gifted, and learned writers all manipulate those rules to work for their stories, characters, world-building, and so on. It becomes a personalized writing style, and it’s alright if it takes you some practice to find yours.

Just remember, grammar exists for a reason. Removing or mutating too much will leave you with a difficult to read and understand mess that isn’t a style, just a fucking mess.

If you struggle with grammar, the best way to help yourself is to practice. Additionally, seeing what errors you are making can be quite helpful; Grammarly offers a free add on for both Google Chrome and FireFox that will show you spelling and grammar mistakes. It also explains the mistake, while offering you a suggested fix. This way, you can see the mistakes you’re making in action. {Presumably, there are other such resources, but since I have no experience with them, I’m not the one to recommend them.}

As I said above, spellcheckers are standard now, in fucking 2021. This has been standard on devices and browsers for so long that I highly doubt most people on tumblr even remember a time when you had to use additional software to have them.

You make a mistake or misspell, and if it isn’t corrected for you, it’s underlined very obviously for you to tap/click/float over to correct. If the word is so terribly misspelled that no suggestion comes up {not all spellcheckers are created equality; some do not recognize slang or relaxed spellings, archaic word use, myriad, particularly specialized jargon-legal, medical, technical-and so on}, we also live in a time period where we can highlight the word, right-click that bitch, and select from the menu the option to search for the word. If the word was so weirdly misspelled that your checker couldn’t figure it out, it is incredibly rare that Google doesn’t throw out the correct spelling when you search it. If the spelling was correct, but the word-use is slang, jargon, or archaic, Google is also going to tell you that-you’ve confirmed it is correct, and can now decide if you want to use it or pick a possible synonym for it instead.

There is no fucking excuse for egregiously misspelled words anymore. None. I mean...listen, I spell quite terribly myself, but no one reading my RP replies is ever going to know that fact. Having difficulty with spelling is not, and has not been for a very long time now, an impediment to writing.

Furthermore, we all miss a typo here and there, especially if we write lengthy novella. Those aren’t always going to be caught by spellcheck, and we might edit the reply five times without seeing it. That happens, it’s alright when it’s minimal! Anything other than that, though, it’s just a combination of rushing and laziness. You really couldn’t be assed to take your time with that reply, read it over at least once before posting, and/or to click the underlined word.

There. Is. No. Excuse.

Again, not all spellcheckers are the same. If you feel like yours is lacking, try an extension for your browser. Since I said it above, I obviously have Grammarly on my mine. My replies effectively go through three different checkers, actually. I write all drafts outside of my browser where it is initially checked by Pages, then, when I paste it into tumblr, it’s being checked natively and by Grammarly. It wasn’t my intention, I just wanted to be positive I was never losing a draft or cooking my ancient laptop with Google Docs. However, it’s been nice as hell to get the perspective of multiple checkers, and as such, I definitely recommend it. It isn’t like I’m putting any extra effort into this, and I’m not paying for Grammarly, either.

When you refuse to behoove yourselves of the spellchecker natively available to you, at least, you’re seriously telling your writing partners that they were not important enough for you to click a fucking word. It’s inexcusable.

Punctuation being nonexistent isn’t a writing style or aesthetic, neither is a refusal to capitalize anything. If never using a comma is part of your Aesthetic™, please, rethink your fucking life and the hobby you’ve chosen.

Punctuation is a part of grammar, and I understand that there can be complexities present that might be confusing. That is one of the reasons why you should bother to know the basics as regards when and how to use punctuation. It’s also another way in which telling people that they should adhere to advice meant for traditional and academic writing can be a shit idea. Especially in an RPC known to misunderstand shit and go overboard.

When you tell the RPC that writers use too many commas, the RPC stops using them all around. Especially, when you also attach this to the idea of evil “wordiness.” That’s something that the RPC is desperate to avoid anyway, as the majority of people here are allergic to reading and writing; anything you advise that lessens the word count for them is going to be grabbed and erroneously applied. Someone implies that wordiness and commas equals run-on sentences, and the RPC gets not only believes it, it gets this message, “if I take out the commas, it isn’t a run-on sentence.”

You have all fundamentally misunderstood what a god damned run-on sentence is. It’s not a long sentence, it isn’t a proliferation of commas. A run-on sentence is when two, or more, sentences that should be individual are conjoined without proper punctuation {a fucking comma, for example} or a coordinating conjunction.

Run-ons can be surprisingly short, in fact. As in the example I lifted from here, “I love to write papers I would write one every day if I had the time.“

That should be written with a comma, separated into two sentences, or broken with a comma and the conjunction “and.” It’s also what I see incessantly on my dash from this bizarre idea that we shouldn’t be using commas. That a run-on sentence is a very long one separated only by commas. That is literally not what a run-on sentence is.

You absolutely can use too many commas {if you want to read some examples of how to use commas, go here}, but I rarely see anyone doing so to such an extreme. The extreme being that a sentence becomes a nonsensical string of conjoined thoughts, ideas, and descriptions that could have been written better broken up into fully formed sentences. I sometimes see muns who go a little nuts with commas by putting them in wildly incorrect places in this way.

What I see constantly is either muns berating themselves for perfectly normal, readable sentence structure or muns reactively using no punctuation at all.

It is all legitimate run-on sentences or those made so short and blunt that they become nonsensical, change the tone of the writing, or have no flow together.

Which brings me to...

Sentence flow is a thing, and you should be doing it.

Unfortunately, this good writing advice tends to throw people. We’re not talking about the flow that needs to be present in academic sentence structure, or exactly the flow that is present in poetry. Though it may require practice to understand and apply well, it’s an incredibly simple concept.

You want to balance out shorter, blunter sentences with those that are longer and more flowing. It gives the text a pleasant, natural rhythm. However, it isn’t just about length, a thing that the RPC is weirdly fixated on. Rather, it’s about word use within those sentences as well.

It’s always important to write with a tone that works with your scene and, overall, with your muse. For example, in a tense, aggressive scene, or with a muse who is generally this way, it gets the message across to use short sentences and clipped words. We can feel the tension, annoyance, and threat.

Furthermore, the way your muse thinks about and uses words is relevant. A well-educated muse from the 1800′s isn’t going to have the same approach to words that a modern-day high school student does. You should be making that clear in the way they speak, but also, in the way you express their thoughts and actions. If you are only writing your muse’s personality and emotional tone when your muse is speaking, you’re not giving me the tone all the way through. It can feel like a marked delineation in flow.

However, you should be considering the overall flow of your writing as well. Did you just lay down back-to-back eloquently verbose sentences? If so, you may want to either follow them up or space them with a shorter sentence comprised of simpler words.

This is legitimately good writing advice for any manner of writing.

So is...

Show, don’t tell.

Which is another piece of advice that throws people when they try to make it more complex than necessary. That, and it grates up against the RPC’s need for short, quick writing. The idea that anything a mun gives you that your muse cannot react to verbally or with action is filler to be avoided. That idea comes from some principle advice that translates badly to RP; essentially, don’t wax poetic for three pages when it has nothing to do with the plot, characters, scene-setting elements, action, and so on. Don’t be Tolkien describing every tree and rock in excruciating detail on the way to destroy the One Ring, basically.

That isn’t fully appropriate advice in RP, where we’re having to write tiny chapters to each other to add onto. While it still has some merit, the RPC definitely has taken it to mean that you shouldn’t show anything. My muse’s private thoughts, emotions expressed and unexpressed, stirred-up memories, things they planned to say/do, but that were naturally interrupted by the flow of the thread all become Unnecessary. With...no mind to what they are showing and creating.

This particularly erodes writing muses as legitimate feeling people. As in the last example of what my muse intended to say or do that was interrupted. That’s a normal, human experience. It would be difficult and not enjoyable to read every instance of a muse’s broken thoughts and impulses or intentions, but giving one every so many replies in a natural feeling way keeps my muse presenting as a real person having a real person’s experience. Simple things like this go a long way toward your muse being “believable,” and by ignoring them or refusing to do them, you’re not making your muse very realistic. So much of the human experience is private, unknowable to outside parties.

Look...if you only knew me based upon a sterilized version of what I was saying to you or doing purely within the context of single interaction at a time, you wouldn’t know me at all. You’d have no idea what sort of nuance there is in my words, how I am expressing or withholding an opinion or emotion. I may not have any opinions, emotions, or other experiences that you are not contributing to. That’s very unrealistic, I’m not actually a person anymore. I haven’t any personality, I didn’t exist before you interacted with me.

That is the way it is with muses too. By stripping them of their internal experiences, we’re stripping them of more realistic feeling characterization. {It becomes, or adds to, a disastrous domino-effect of projected, cardboard stand-in style muses that are in no way a joy to interact with.} This is bad writing, makes for bad reading and interacting.

No one seems to understand show, don’t tell. Let me put it in a simple example: don’t tell me your muse is a good person, show me. Don’t tell me your muse is upset right now, show me.

Your muse has character traits you feel makes them A Good Person. They are compassionate, selfless, and genuinely interested in others. Don’t just leave that in the muse’s bio, or relegate it to statement-style lines like, “she cared deeply about others.” Show me these traits in action and thought. You don’t require anything dramatic to it, either. A muse like this should be a good listener, proceed with their love language in a way reflects personal involvement and a desire to comfort, be willing to sacrifice time and personal interests {don’t keep it to dramatic and literal self-sacrifice to show “selfless”}, legitimately doesn’t think of themselves first and foremost and may need reminding to care for themselves, and will be troubled by unfairness and cruelty in the world.

Your muse has been in a disagreement with a loved one, they’re not just “upset,” they are sad, angry, disappointed, and maybe even confused or surprised. While those are more descriptive and defining of the type of complex “upset” going on here, don’t leave it at these words. Don’t tell me that she said, angrily. Show me that she is having thoughts based on these emotions, actual emotional turmoil at her expectations of a loved one being devastated. Paint me a picture of the sadness in her features, the anger in her walk, how her words come out unpolished and jumbled in her surprise and turmoil.

This is what it means to show me, not tell me.

It also extends to scenes and recollections.

If your muse is happy sitting in her garden, don’t just tell me this. Show me why she is happy there, and define the sort of happiness in her thoughts, body language, voice, and expressions. Describe the aspects of the garden in tones of the happiness they bring, draw comparisons between this and her outward expression of joy with similar word use. It ties together both seamlessly in a way that we can relate to and feel, even if we hate the outdoors.

If this muse had a traumatic incident in her past, this is going to inconveniently come up, even if only in her mind. Don’t play coy about it and drop shit on your partners like, “she was thinking of things and stuff that was bad again.” No. Even if you are alluding or otherwise keeping the actual event secretive, you need to be describing how the muse is feeling, how she is experiencing the world around her through an overlay of upsetting reminders. Show me how she is having a visceral reaction to triggering stimuli while having to keep working or talking.

Additionally, even when your muse isn’t experiencing the scene you have set directly, you should show me instead of telling me about it.

Since my actual least favorite PSA on how it’s better to just tell people because no one wants to read “all that” deals with rain, we’re going to as well. Because it doesn’t have to be excessively descriptive to fucking show me it’s raining or has rained instead of just stating the fact.

Not, “it was raining.” Not, “it was wet outside.”

“In between her words, the distant, wall-dampened splash of cars driving through puddles.”

“He passed by windows beaded with moisture on his way to the kitchen.”

Wow, that was so complex, really a lot to read to get the idea that it is, or has been, raining outside without me directly telling you this!

There isn’t anything wrong with being more descriptive than this {nor is there anything wrong with using the word “rain,” so long as you’re backing it up with a description}, some of us do like to read and write about things like oil-slicked puddles in the street if our muse is seeing them or it is otherwise relevant. It’s just that you don’t have to do this, or have to do it at all times, to show instead of tell. This is yet another serious misunderstanding.

It isn’t that the description is often really that excessive, it’s more often that it is irrelevant to the extreme of sticking out weirdly. In the puddle thing, if my muse isn’t seeing it and/or I am not using that description to further experience, their mindset, personality, or tying it to an analogy later in the reply, it feels weird.

Some superfluous shit isn’t bad either, and superfluous can be purely subjective. It is, again, when it is to such an extreme as to leave your writing partner feeling oddly about a point in the text that seemed to ring with importance, but then held none. That isn’t an act of showing or telling, and neither is it your partner trying to show off as a gifted writer. For whatever reason, they just saw or felt that moment with such passionate clarity they had to include it immediately instead of waiting until a better moment for it. That’s literally it, there’s no need to project your insecurity in weird ass ways.

There are definitely other pieces of traditional-based writing advice that are great and either do transfer to RP perfectly or can with small amendments, but these are the most basic, commonly seen, and important combinations. They are also easy to better understand and apply!

When reading writing advice posts, please, ask yourself how they fit into RP. If they do at all. Many times, when it comes to the absolute basics of writing coherently and enjoyably, or developing characters, they’re great. It’s when they get into topics of some nuance that they don’t cross over so well and are outright damaging.

These pieces of advice are often being misunderstood or misapplied already, then are being passed around to a community notorious for its lacking application of critical thinking. Severe misunderstanding will happen, and terrible writing “rules” within the RPC develop from them.

Do be interested in writing, don’t separate traditional writing and RP writing into categories like “real writing and RP,” be invested in learning and improving. Just ask yourself how it applies to cooperative storytelling that is often thematic in nature, and proceed with caution and the mindset that writing is an art.

If you have the principles down and both yourself and others are enjoying your writing, you’re not doing it in an inherently wrong way because it wouldn’t be published. You’re not writing RP to have it published, and that’s not a bad thing. It’s just a difference to keep in mind when reading PSA’s about the Rules of Writing Whatever. 

[jj-lynn21]

How A Girl Must Live Ch 1

Ch1: A place for singles

Ch 2: Popular, Ch 3 Opening Up  ch 4: Dating Ch 5:Family

 Ch 6 Violence begets Violence Ch 7 Love Birds Ch 8 The Big Fight

ch 9: The Flash back

  Notes: AU Willard Russel. In this story he still went off to the war. Instead of going home, one of the other soldiers offered him a job at a resort in the Catskills Mountains in New York. He has been there five years when the story starts. So, it makes him about twenty-five. The ages of those that come into the resort are 18-21 for females, 18-25 for males. The only warning I could put on this chapter is that it is 1950s so there were some rules for women that most of us would think of as ridiculous now. Our main female character sure thinks they are, but she was raised to go along with society, for the most part. No smut until the last few chapters.

taging: @super-pink-a-palouza @luciferreads @glasglowgrin @loomiz @princessloveme123 @hornyhetero @taintedglass @bohemian-brian​ @maryan028 @optimisticwagoneagleparty @scxrsgxrd ,@waywardtigersandwich @theskarsgardcult @babyboy-cody @bskarsgardlove92​ @bill-skarsgard-owns-my-ass @shenevertricks1831

  Thank you so much for the moodboard to start this off @flowers-in-your-hayr​

It was spring break 1950 when Samantha Davenport’s father insisted, she needed to find a man. There had already been talk about her amongst his friends that something might not be right about his daughter since she was about to turn 19 and had no male companion. No suiters at the door vying for her attention. So, he sent her to a resort that was known for putting people together. Some even ended up married at the resort surrounded by friends and family.  

“Mother, why is Father sending me away like I did something wrong?” Samantha pouted with her arm flung over her chaise lounge dramatically. “I am perfectly happy being single. My friend Tami has a dotting husband and three kids. She ain’t no happier than me.”

“Is not happier.” Her Mother corrected. “I do hope they encourage proper grammar at this resort for young people.”

Samantha rolled her eyes while her Mother’s back was turned. “Won’t I learn that at that God-awful finishing school that starts in the Fall?”

“Do not take the lords name in vain like that young lady,” She slammed the pink suitcase closed. “Your Father knows what is best for this family. Until you are blessed with a husband to help you make correct decisions, you will listen to your Father. Let us get you to the car. Your Father is waiting.”

Samantha huffed and stomped to the car. Her Father was waiting with his legs crossed at the ankles. He tipped his hat to his Ladies. Then he moved around the car to open the front door. “Mother.”

“Thank you, Father,” his wife smiled politely as she got in the car.

He opened the back door. “My beautiful free-spirited little girl.”

“Thank you, Father.” She felt deflated as she got in the car.

The car was quiet, other than the radio playing Elvis, The Platters, Pat Boone, Dean Martin, and other popular crooners of the time. It was a six-hour drive from Summerland, Ohio to the Mountain Lake Resort in Catskills, New York. As she listened to the music she glanced through the brochure for the place.  

The rooms looked nice enough. Four girls would room together. Friendships were expected. The boys were roomed in a different part of the building. An elegant dining area was found between the girls' and boys' areas. There was a lake and pool where daily activity would be held. Hiking, crafts, and board games were also organized to have something to interest all guests. The young people had to get involved with a minimum of three events per day. No smoking or drinking by any of the young ladies. The young men would have dedicated times when they would learn to drink and smoke casually.  

It seemed unfair having to take part in dumb activities. And the rules were worse than home. Her Father let her go shopping with her girlfriends and drive her own car without a man beside her. At the resort there always had to be a man to escort the ladies on the premises. They were to wait in the morning for a knock on the door at 6am. An escort would be there to bring them to breakfast. They could only speak when spoken to.  

A girl would not deny a gentleman's advances. Dating was strongly encouraged. Samantha thought it was absurd to have to entertain morons just so they did not feel bad about themselves. She would not be forced into a relationship to appease her parents. The idea of the man of her dreams being at some camp to get young people married off was ridiculous.  

When they pull up to the main building young gentlemen line the walkway. They are all dressed in impressive suits of grey, navy or black with ties. One of them rushes to open the back door. “Welcome to the resort Miss.” He tilted his hat with a smile.

“Sam.” She said with a smirk.

Her Father got out of the car to get her suitcase out of the trunk. “Have an enjoyable time Samantha.”  

“I’ll take her suitcase, Sir.” The young man stuck out his hand.  

Her Father handed the suitcase over happily. Her Mother waved to her from the car. She had a huge proud smile on her face as if dropping her daughter off at such a place as this was a huge accomplishment.  

“Follow me Miss Samantha.” The young man started walking and she followed as instructed. He took her into a communal area. Boys at the tables on the right. Girls at the tables on the left. There were some windows at the far end where she could see tables for two and four set up. “Have a seat, Miss Samantha. This is Miss Pamala, Miss Missy and Miss Flora. They will be your roommates. I will take your suitcase to your room.”

“Thank you,” She croaked softly as she sat down.  

The girls in unison giggled as they greeted her with a, “Hello, Samantha.” They all seemed just giddy to be there.

“I can hardly wait to be paired with my future Husband.” Missy squealed.

Pamala chided her. “Now Missy you should date many boys here to find the right one. You date some even more than once to make sure you are compatible.” She giggled.

“What is your strategy for finding a perfect husband, Samantha?”  Flora asked. “I am going to play hard to get with all the boys until I choose who I want. Of course, I will make him think he chose me.” She laughs with the rest of them.

“I have no plan.” Samantha’s voice was dull compared to the manic girls around her. “My parents think I can find my heart's desire here. I very much doubt that. But good luck to you three.”

“Just look at all of them over there.” Missy giggled. “The odds are in our favor.”

Samantha rolled her eyes. A couple in their late forties stepped out between the young men and young girls. The man tipped his fedora to the crowd before taking it off to hold to his chest with one hand. His other hand held his wife’s hand. He kissed it politely before letting it go. She curtsied to the room.  

“Good evening young people,” The man looked around the room making eye contact with some. “We are the Jones. You may call my wife Mrs. Sally. Please refer to me as Mr. Jones. Ladies are always to be called by their first names with Mrs. In front of it if they are married and Miss before that. All gentlemen here will be referred to as Mr. with their last name after. We do this so our ladies soon to be Wives and Mother’s we hope, will know the name they are to take. And the gentlemen should always know the first name of his possible wife when he is introduced to her.”

His wife kept a smile on her face. She looked at him in adoration as he spoke. She said nothing. She waited for him to allow her to speak.  

“We have a few rules.” The room groaned. “There are not many. They are not difficult to follow. You will all be dress in your finest daily. That is suit and tie for the boys. And dresses for the girls. Petticoats are optional but highly recommended. No slang words or curses here. You will always talk properly. Ladies will always be accompanied by a gentleman. My lovely wife will now talk to you about meals.”

“Good evening everyone.” His wife curtsied to everyone again. “Tonight, I helped Chef Joseph cook a chopped steak with baked potatoes for the boys and garden salads for our girls. Well, Mr. Joseph grilled the steaks and potatoes. I just threw together a salad he told me how to make. After tonight's dinner, I know you will all need some rest.

The boys room numbers coincide with the number on their table. Our young ladies will be escorted to their room by one of our male staff members. In the morning at six, girls you will start hearing a knock at the door. You will be ready to come down to breakfast prompting with the young man we send for you. Maybe he will be the one.” She was as giddy as some of the young girls about that comment.  

Samantha was already annoyed. It increased when Tab soft drinks were set on her table. She had no problem with her shape and the other girls at the table were varied sizes but that did not mean they all did not deserve a hamburger, fries, and a Milkshake like she would normal have when hanging out with friends. She never drank diet soda like Tab. Her Mother ate salads often. She did sometimes. But usually they all had meat, potatoes, and vegetables.  

“I’m sorry, I was babbling on so.” Mrs. Sally apologized looking at her husband. “Is there anything else you need to address, Sir?”

“You did as good as I expected Mrs. Sally.” He gave her shoulder a little squeeze that elated her. “All young girls are not to smoke or drink. It is not lady like. If your husband chooses to let you that is between you and him. Here you will not partake in such things. After the girls are in their rooms to get their beauty sleep any boys who want to partake in an after-dinner smoke and drink may do so under our supervision. That is the only time you will be allowed to do such things. Does everyone understand?”

“Yes Mr. Jones.” The room howled.  

“Good, now let’s enjoy our dinner.” He clapped. Women brought out the food on large platters for the young men and bowls for the girls. Samantha was starving. When she took large bites of her salad, the other girls just looked at her like she was insane. They all took small bites. Missy even used a knife to cute hers up. The others followed her lead.  

“Do you want your future husband to see you eating like such, such a heathen.” Miss Missy whispered.

Samantha’s mouth hung open for a second. “I down cheeseburgers in front of boys all the time. This is just salad and I am starving. “

“Well, maybe that is the reason you are not happily married by now.” Miss Pamala guessed with a snideness to the remark.

“If the men here only care about how I eat instead of who I am, then I guess I won’t meet anyone this way.” Samantha laughed before taking another huge bite just to annoy the other girls.

When a man was sent to the table to escort Samantha to her room, she went willingly just to get away from the girls she was sitting with for a few minutes. The young man who escorted her walked with his chin up looking ahead without conversing with her at all. She was fine with that. It took her roommates another half hour to finish eating before joining her. She pretended to be asleep in the twin bed on the right of the room closest to the window.

Samantha was restless laying in the bed. Her stomach was growling also. The other girls were sleeping dreaming of their wedding days. She decided to tiptoe to the kitchen to see what she could find. She did not know where the kitchen was, but it had to be somewhere behind the double doors the food was brought from at the dinner.  

She walked slow and steady down to the stairwell. She thought the elevator bell would alert someone to her late-night snack walk. She glanced both ways when she opened the stairway door to the main floor. No one was insight. She headed to the dining area thinking she would be free and clear but there were voices from the room.

“One more hand, boys.” A deep voice echoed. “No wilds. Treat your cards like a Lady. Respect them. Gaze at them lovingly. And make sure no one else thinks theirs are better than yours.”

Samantha snuck around them in the shadows as the boys laughed. The voices get muted as she slides into the double doors catching them, so they do not shut loud in the darkness. The kitchen was a sterile silver with a ceiling light in the center. She reached up to pull the string to turn it on. The area only illuminated slightly. There was a window at the fair end so she could she how the lighting would be fine once the sun shone in on the room.  

On her toes she reached to open a cupboard to find a snack, a glass or both. She found juice glasses. Then she opened the refrigerator to find more vegetables for salads which she had enough of already. But there was also freshly squeezed orange juice ready for the morning. She poured herself a glass. When she walked out after putting away the juice and shutting the light off, she stopped to hear the guys chatting, smoking cigars, and playing poker.  

“I will marry a beautiful girl to make my parents happy,” The one boy was saying. “Then it is off to the army for me to defend this great country.”

“I don’t suggest that young man,” The deeper voiced guy suggested. “You don’t want to see the things I saw. You do not want to be part of that messed up world unless you have to, you dig? I saw a man skinned alive. You do not want to see that kid. I don’t want you to see that.” His voice sounded haunted by the memory.

“Well, I’m going to keep my girl in line just like my Dad does.” Another younger voice chimed in. “Just smack her right in the chops if she sasses, disobeys or...”

Samantha heard a bang on the table that made her gasp audibly and drop her glass shattering it on the floor.

“You should never treat a woman like that,” The deeper voice seethed. “If I see or hear of you laying one hand on these ladies you will be out of here. And If I ever see you or your Father lay a hand on a Lady in my presence that moment will come back to haunt you three-fold.” He gets up. Straightens his tie and turns towards toward the noise. He softens his face smiling. “I’m sorry Miss. I did not mean to startle you. I was just teaching these fellas a few things. Hopefully, they listened.”

She nodded slowly scared she was in much more trouble than the boy he threatened since she broke a rule. “I’m, I just needed a drink. I’ll be going back to my room after cleaning up the glass.”

“The boys will clean up the glass.” He rose out of the chair towering over her.  

“Yes, Sir.” She glanced up his entire frame noticing his broad shoulders to his large bright green eyes that caught hers. Then she quickly looked down.  

“Isn’t that women’s work.” One of the men complained  

The tall slender man glared at the boys, “If a woman is frightened, we help her even if it means cleaning up a mess once in a while.” He looked to Samantha holding out his hand. “I will escort you back to your room Miss.”  

“I’m Sam, well Samantha.” She took his hand nervously.  

Samantha and the tall guy started walking away as the boys found a broom to sweep up the mess. It took them a few minutes. They also cleaned up the card game and empty beer bottles and the ashtray.

“I’m Mr. Russel.” the tall guy said as he pushed the elevator button. “Willard Russel. Do not worry, I will not say anything about you being out without an escort. You seem like a perfectly capable young lady to get a drink on her own. But please forgive my behavior with Mr. Goodland. I despise those that do not treat women with respect. What floor?”

“Seven.” She murmured. “I’m glad there are more men than my Father that believe that hitting women are wrong, Mr. Russel.”

“You just come to me if any of our boys get out of hand.” He put his arm out for her to get off the elevator first and walked her to her door. “I hope you find an absolutely true love here.” His face lit up when he really smiled.  

“Thank you, kindly Mr. Russel,” She smiled back barely realizing she was doing it.  

He opened the door she stopped at. She went inside and he closed it quietly behind her.

[ohemgeeitscoley]

Rey doesn't think when she calls Ben to go into her emails to send off her draft email with her final to her professor. 

It isn't until she's off the phone that she remembers all the other draft emails are to him and vary from confessing her love to him and describing in detail what exactly she wants to do to his body. 

No, Rey didn't think this through at all.

These letters to you (1/1)

Fandom: Star Wars

Pairing: Rey/Ben Solo (Reylo)

Note: This came from this prompt from the ReylosPrompt Twitter account.

Curious Cat Prompt: "Ben finds a draft on Rey’s email addressed to him confessing her love and lust for him."

@andyouweremine​ and @storiesofimagination​ are some of the best betas a girl could ever ask for. They make sure that my tenses stay correct and reassure me the entire time that I’m writing. They are the best cheerleaders and I wouldn’t know what to do without them. <3 

Read below or on AO3.

Please pick up. Please pick up. If there is any sort of fairness in the galaxy, please pick up your fucking phone--

"Hello?" Ben's voice is low, deeper than usual. It's his mostly asleep voice. Rey hates that she has thought enough about the variances of Ben's voice to know the different tones almost as much as she hates the fact that a sleepy Ben Solo is almost always her favorite version of Ben.

Ben had been one of the first people Rey had met when she transferred in as a sophomore. He had been in his first year at the law school. They both fought for the right to study under a specific tree toward the edge of the campus. It was quiet, far enough away from the hot spots to really attract much attention or noise. The leaves were big and provided plenty of shade from the sun. The ground was soft and mostly free of any large rocks or bouts of even landscaping. 

It was Rey's favorite spot. 

They fought over the tree for two months, both of them refusing to leave and each attempting to annoy the other into giving the spot up. It didn't take long for them to realize that when they were just sitting under the tree, quietly, together studying, it wasn't so bad.

It was actually nice, not being alone. 

Rey moved into Ben's apartment the following fall and they'd been best friends ever since. 

Rey's fairly certain she's been in love with him for roughly the same amount of time. 

Not that she has the time to be getting lost down that particular rabbit hole.

"Thank God, you answered," Rey responds, twisting the cord of the phone around one of her fingers. Everything about the diner she works at is a little bit kitschy and old, but having to make a call on a phone actually attached to a wall with cords is a whole different experience. "I'm so sorry I woke you up. I know you were up late studying."

"Rey?" Ben asks while yawning. Rey can hear him shuffle around in his bed. "It's not even 6 AM, is everything okay?"

"You answered," Rey smiles, hoping Ben knows that she is practically beaming at him through the phone. "Everything is going to be fine. My final paper is due at 6. On the dot. I was too nervous to send it last night when I finished it. I was going to send it in this morning, after I had a chance to at least look over it for grammar and spelling, but I'm me and I--"

"Slept through your first four alarms and barely made it out the door for work?" Ben interrupts.

"Yes." Rey sighs, rolling her eyes. "Anyways. You know I can't use my cell at work, I'm probably going to get shit for this call, and you're the only number I have memorized. So I really, really need you to get on my computer, go to my email and send in my paper. I have a draft saved and everything. All you have to do is get in my drafts folder and hit send."

"Sure," Ben agrees. "Password for your laptop?"

"Capital d-y-at sign-d-hashtag-number 3-exclamation point."

"I'm on it." Rey can hear Ben's door open, the same squeak sounding over the phone that she complains about every night when he's anxious from studying and walks back and forth from his room to the kitchen every twenty minutes. "Consider it done."

"You're the best roommate, slash friend, slash just all around hero of my life," Rey blushes, stopping just short of adding 'probably the love of my life' at the end of her sentence. Thinking about her feelings for Ben is definitely a rabbit hole she is better off to avoid. "I don't know what I would do without you."

"It's the least I can do if I'm really the only phone number you have memorized."

"It's 2020, Ben," Rey teases. "The fact that I have your number memorized is really impressive."

"Why mine?"

Rey can hear water running in the background, a cabinet opening and a drawer shutting. Rey hates that she can clearly see Ben in their kitchen, making coffee, probably with a slightly grumpy look on his face because Rey knows that she put the grinder and the filters back in the wrong spot. She hates it the same way she hates knowing that Ben won't say anything about the misplaced items to her, and that if she were home he would make her cup of coffee first. 

The way Ben always takes care of her first drives Rey crazy most days. 

"I figure the only time I'm ever going to need to call someone without having access to my phone would be in a real emergency. And you're the person I would want to call." Rey bites her lip, shaking her head as if she could shake away how vulnerable she sounds to her own ears. "Or, if I've been arrested. And if that's the case, you're the only lawyer I know."

Ben snorts. "I have to actually finish next semester and pass the bar to be a real lawyer."

"You're going to pass," Rey gently reminds him. It's the same conversation they've been having since the beginning of the year. "And then you're going to kick legal ass all over New York."

Ben's laugh is warm. "You should go back to work, don't worry about your paper. I won't let you down."

"I know you won't. Text me what you want for dinner. I'll pick it up on my way home from my last final." 

Rey hangs the phone back up on the wall and walks back out into the diner. She smiles, grabbing a rag to wipe down the front counter. Her nerves finally calm knowing that Ben wouldn't let her down and she no longer had to worry about failing one of her last classes. 

Ben would just go into her draft emails and send the email on to her professor.

Into her draft emails.

Her draft emails.

Fuck. 

***

Ben is not surprised when he opens Rey's email and sees that she has 37 draft emails. It's honestly exactly what he expects. 

He blows across the top of his mug, watching as the steam from the cup scatters. The coffee's still too hot to drink, but it's 5:57 in the morning and Ben's only had 2 hours of sleep. 

If he survives law school and passes the bar, Ben is going to need a three week long nap.  

Taking a drink from the mug, Ben grimaces as the too hot liquid burns his tongue and throat, and yet at the same time warms his soul. Ben opens the draft emails, seeing the one at the top to Rey's professor. It's easy enough to look at, make sure that there's an attachment attached and that Rey's message isn't full of 2 AM Rey snark. 

It's sent by 5:59.

Ben's glad that he woke up to his phone going off and that he answered. Usually, answering unknown numbers isn't something Ben does, but he's always a little more cautious when Rey is gone and it's a local number. Just in case. 

Answering a spam call and wasting 5 seconds but knowing Rey is fine is worth it. 

Everything about the call fell into the 'reasons to tell Rey about his feelings' column in the pro/con list he kept in his mind. Rey had his number memorized in case of emergencies. 

Somehow Rey Johnson had decided that he was worthy and could be trusted to be someone she could rely on.  

And for Rey, with all of the abandonment issues Ben knows about, to trust him to be there for her… it means more than Ben can say. 

Falling completely in love with his best friend was not on his list of things to complete before finishing law school. 

Though he thinks it might be the most worthwhile thing he's done in the three years. If he wasn't absolutely terrified of Rey not feeling the same way and ruining their friendship, Ben knows that loving her, being loved by her… that would be the honor of a lifetime. 

Tilting his head back, Ben reaches for his mug and takes another drink. These are the kinds of thoughts that Ben knows he cannot dwell on so early and on such little sleep. He's going to fuck up one day and send her a text message confessing that he does actually reorganize their kitchen cabinets sometimes just because he thinks that the way she scrunches her nose when she's confused and angry is the cutest thing in the world.  

Maybe he'll just text her that he loves her and not in a friend way. But in a ‘very real, very romantic, wants to take her on dates, and make her toes curl in pleasure’ kind of way.

Which is why Ben needs to go back to bed and try to sleep before studying again. His last final is tomorrow and if he isn't smart enough to list ten reasons why texting Rey about how pretty he thinks her freckles are in the sunlight, well, he has no idea how he's going to pass his trademarks and false advertising final. 

Ben is just starting to close the laptop when he sees his email on one of the draft emails. He knows that he shouldn't snoop in Rey's draft emails, but it's addressed to him and it's probably just a dumb meme that she forgot to hit send on. 

Because Rey sends Ben a lot of dumb memes. It's one of the things he loves about her. 

Ben pushes the screen up and is stunned to find that there are a bunch of emails to him.

Before he can think his way out of doing it, Ben opens the first email.

Dear Ben:

I came home early from work and you were shirtless and exercising in the living room

First: rude.

Second: I've decided it's unfair for you to ever wear shirts and you should be shirtless all the time

Third: actually, no one else needs to know about this gross injustice and you should only not wear shirts around me

Fourth: have you always been so... big?

Fifth: I need to go to bed and think more about this.

Yours,

Rey

Ben takes a deep breath. That was not a dumb meme.

That was the furthest thing from a dumb meme.

Ben slowly releases his breath, closing out of the draft email. He should stop. He knows he should shut down Rey’s computer and that he absolutely should not open another draft email to him. 

But he needs to know what else they say. For the first time in three years, there's a spark of hope inside Ben that maybe Rey feels something for him. So he looks down the list of drafts and opens one from 6 months ago on his birthday.

Ben,

It's your birthday. I know you aren't comfortable with attention being solely focused on you, but I'm so glad that you seemed to be enjoying yourself tonight. 

You deserve it. You're always so hard on yourself. I wish you could see you the way I see you. How kind and caring and thoughtful you can be. It never fails to amaze me, just how wonderful you really are.

You looked gorgeous. I had to stop myself from telling you just what seeing you in that suit did to me. I almost told you how badly I want you. 

I drank too much. I hate that you thought you had to leave the club to make sure that I made it back home okay, but I also… God Ben, you are always taking care of me.

No one else has done that for me.

You got me in bed, made sure I could change out of my outfit (which did you like my outfit? I thought you looked like you appreciated it when I walked out of my room, but you didn't say anything. I mean of course you didn't say anything. But I hope you did. I wore it for you.) you even brought water and aspirin for me to take tomorrow morning when I wake up. 

You kissed my forehead when you tucked me in.

I just want to kiss you. 

Well, I want to do more than just kiss you. But kissing seems like a good place to start. 

Which is how I ended up here. Reading all of these unsent emails to you. I almost hit send on the first one I wrote. My feelings for you haven't changed. 

But I'm so so scared.

I am terrified Ben.

I can't lose you. You've become the one constant in my life and I don't know what I would do without you in it. 

What if you don't feel the same way? What if I ruin everything?

I should go to bed. I just wish that I were in your arms instead of alone.

I'm so tired of being alone.

Anyways.

Happy birthday, Ben.

Yours,

Rey 

Ben reads the email four times before it really clicks in his brain that Rey likes him. Rey has apparently liked him for at least six months, but maybe even longer since she referred to sending her first draft email and that her feelings hadn't changed.

Her feelings. For him.  

His birthday had been the best birthday he could remember. Rey had planned the entire event. She had been so excited to celebrate him that it was hard not to embrace it. 

Ben's birthdays usually consisted of a phone call from his parents, maybe lunch or dinner if they were in the same city, and a few text messages from others. 

Rey woke him up with pancakes and waffles, because no one should have to choose between the two best breakfast foods on their birthday, and a detailed itinerary of all her ideas for the rest of the day. 

She spent the entire day with him doing whatever he wanted to do. Watching his favorite movies, ordering lunch from his favorite restaurant, confirming with everyone the dinner plans and post-dinner drink plans she had made. 

Ben had almost told Rey about his feelings for her that night. After reading her email, he wishes that he had.

How much time had they missed out on being together because they were both scared?

Ben shakes his head, he still isn't sure that this all is real. Maybe Rey hadn't really called and he is still asleep. Maybe this is all a dream. 

He downs the last of the coffee in his mug, running a finger across the chip on the side. 

Rey had tried throwing the mug out after she moved in, saying something about how they could just use his mugs. Ben had ignored her, placing the pastel colored mugs, chips and all, next to his glossy black ones in the cabinet. He told her the blue one was his favorite and it wasn't going anywhere. 

The smile she had given him lit up the entire room. 

He sets the mug back down on the table, scrolling down until he finds the first draft to him. I almost hit send on the first one I wrote. The email is dated the day before she moved in. 

He opens it.

Ben,

I will probably never send this email, but I also don't know that I won't. I know that I want to send it. I want to be brave and to know the truth.

The thought of doing it is just scary though. 

You know that you're my best friend right? It's hard for me to imagine a world without you in it, which for me is a lot. You haven't even been in my life for a year and you've already managed to make it so that I don't know what I'll do when you decide to leave.

That's what people do, Ben, they leave me. 

It's just a fact in my life and knowing that, honestly, has kept me safe. I keep people at a distance, which wasn't hard growing up because I just bounced around from foster home to foster home and school to school. But now I'm here and I'm not going anywhere new anytime soon.  

And then there's you. 

For some reason, I believe you're not going anywhere either. 

Which is scarier to me. I've never had anyone stay before. I don't know what to do with that. 

A part of me needs to believe that you're going to leave. So when you do eventually move on and leave me behind it'll at least be something I knew was going to eventually happen.

Anyways. I've gotten really sidetracked here. 

I've been going to therapy. Which you already know, since you're the one who kept telling me that it was something I should look into. Thanks for that by the way. You were right. 

She suggested that I write letters to the people who have left or hurt me. Not to send, but to just, get my thoughts and feelings out of my head. 

It helped. 

Which is why I'm writing this email to you, even though I'll never be brave enough to send it. I have a lot of thoughts and feelings about you, Ben. I need them out of my head.  

I love you. 

I am in love with you. 

Not in a platonic way. In a very romantic way.

Almost everything you do drives me crazy and makes my heart warm and my face glow. 

I want to kiss you and hold your hand. I want to find out if my head will fit in the crook of your neck when you hold me the way I think that it will. I want to commit the taste of your skin to my memory. I want to know the marks on your body better than I know my own. I want to know what you look like when you lose control and give into pleasure. 

It's really apparent, I think, the way I feel about you.  

Only you don't seem to notice. And I need to admit to myself that it's because you don't think of me that way. 

Which is fine. I get it. 

You're you… and I'm just, well, I'm just me. 

But I'm moving in tomorrow and I just needed to get these thoughts out. Otherwise I'm a little worried I might just blurt it out when you help me wash the dishes or eat dinner with me. Which I'm sure sounds a little strange, but after a lifetime without these moments… 

I imagine living with you is only going to make me fall more in love with you. 

Maybe I'll just have to write you more. 

Yours,

Rey

Ben doesn't bother to count how many times he rereads the email. He just keeps going back to the top as soon as he reads her name and starts again. He doesn't stop until he is sure he could repeat every word without looking at the screen. 

And then he continues to read the email again, just to make sure.

Rey loves him.

Even with the words clearly on the screen for Ben to see, it's hard for him to believe. He's been in love with Rey since before she moved in. The idea that Rey has felt the same way the entire time doesn't make sense. 

Ben is objectively smart. He isn't even shy about his intelligence. In fact any given classmate of his would likely describe him as an insufferable know it all. Rey loving him without Ben catching on for over two years is inconceivable. He would have noticed. He would have seen the signs.  Certainly he would--

He reads the email again. And again. And again. 

Every time he tries to find a way to read anything into it beyond 'Rey has admitted in three different emails, to various degrees, that she is physically attracted to you and that she is in love with you' he rereads the emails. 

He doesn't read any more beyond the three. There are plenty of drafts to him that are unread, but he grasps the threads between them to form the overall picture without needing to read the individual emails. 

He feels guilty if he thinks for too long about reading the ones he did. He has information now that he didn't have before. He reasons that it is information that he should have though. Because now that he knows and he thinks to any given memory of Rey, with just a tiny bit of certainty that Rey loves him…

Well it's the easiest thing in the world to see. 

When he really thinks about it, Rey doesn't hide the way she loves him, she shines with it. He can see it in the way she smiles at him when he pulls the blanket from the back of the couch and tucks it around her during a movie. Her face soft and warm as she instinctively burrows into the heat. 

He can see it in the way she keeps finding reasons to touch his arm when they are walking. Her hand guiding his elbow when she's giving directions. A finger tapping on his wrist when she wants him to follow her gaze. Her arm interlocked with his when she's had just a little too much to drink to still be steady in her heels. 

It's certainly the way she trusts that he won't let her fall. 

Ben closes the laptop, stretching as he stands. He places the empty coffee mug in the sink, rinsing out the small drops of coffee lingering in the bottom of the glass. The time on the stove clock mocks him. 

7:34.

Rey isn't going to be home for hours. She'll go straight from the diner to her final. And he doesn't want to worry her by texting her. Especially when he knows she won't have a lot of time, if any, to text him back.

He isn't even sure what he would say to her. 

He could study. He should study. He tries to study, but it's pointless. He can't really focus when at least half of his brain is still focused on Rey's emails. 

Ben waits. Impatiently watching the clock and attempting to will time to pass faster. He reads his note cards in between planning the possible ways his conversation with Rey may go when she finally, finally gets home. 

It's a long day.

***

Rey glances down at her phone for approximately the millionth time on her walk from the diner to campus. She's almost run into ten different people while walking because she's too focused on her phone and not where she is going. 

There are no messages from Ben. No missed calls either. 

Maybe Ben didn't see the emails. There's no way Ben would see the draft emails to him and not read them. And if he read them he absolutely would have texted her about them by now. 

Right? Right.  

Unless he thought that letting her down over a text message or a phone call is too impersonal. Maybe he is just waiting for her to get home to break her heart. 

She should have just turned in the paper late. So what if she failed and had to retake the class over the summer and figure out a way to pay for it out of pocket? At least she would still have her best friend.

A drop of water hits Rey's face, Rey looks up from her phone and glares at the darkened sky. She doesn't remember rain being mentioned in the weather forecast, but that hardly matters as it starts raining harder.  

Rey checks one more time for any messages before sliding her phone into her bag and running the rest of the way to class. She makes it inside of the building just before a large round of thunder and the rain starts to pour.  

She sits at her desk, waiting for the rest of her classmates to show up. She pulls out her phone, debating if she should send Ben a message. 

Hey! By now you probably read the emails. This is really embarrassing and obviously I should have deleted them instead of saving them. I'm an idiot. Please let me know when you need me to move out by. Sorry for making this so awkward.

Or

You find two years worth of love letters and you have NOTHING to say to me??????

Or

I assume that if you felt anything similar toward me you would have said something by now. Can we just pretend that you never saw them? I don't want this to change everything. 

The professor walks in, handing off the test packets to another student to begin passing around. 

There's not enough time for Rey to address any of this with Ben in a message. But she can't stomach the idea of not hearing from him at all before going home. 

Rey: Hey! Getting ready to start my final, you never said what you want me to grab for dinner on my way home?

***

Rey hands in her test to her professor with a tight smile and a small wave. She's pretty sure she passed, which at this point, is all she can hope for. 

She spent half of the time thinking of different scenarios that could be a possibility when she went back to the apartment. Anything near passing would be fine. 

She walks out of the classroom and pulls out her phone. She has two messages from Ben.

Ben: Actually, I was thinking I would make dinner. Something to celebrate your last final. 

Ben: Maybe something to distract me from studying. 

Rey sighs as she walks toward the exit of the building. Maybe Ben didn't read the draft emails after all. Even if he didn't have feelings for her, surely they'd be enough to at least distract him. 

Rey had poured her heart out in some of those emails. She knows there are at least a few where she went on and on about what she thought about Ben's body and the way his hair looked with him growing it out. A few where she made it clear about her thoughts about how kissable his lips looked, how she wondered what his fingers would feel like tracing her curves. 

Even if he didn't have feelings for her,  certainly he would be distracted by some of those emails.

Maybe she won't go home. Maybe she can avoid Ben long enough that she won't have to find out if he read the emails or not. She won't have to find out if she's ruined one of the best things in her life.

The sun is bright when Rey steps outside. The sidewalks are a darker grey, small puddles pooled around the cracks and uneven slabs. 

Rey zips her jacket up, shivering slightly as the wind picks up speed. 

She spends most of the walk home trying to fight against her disappointment at the thought that Ben hadn't gone through the emails to him. She had spent so much of her energy imagining Ben breaking it to her that he didn't feel the same way, but a part of her had been hoping that maybe, maybe he felt the same. 

The idea that Ben just didn't read the emails was worse.

Maybe Rey should just tell him. Get her feelings out in the open and see what comes from it. There was a chance, a small chance, but still a chance that he felt the same way. Or that he could be open to the idea. 

Rey: Sounds good! Need me to stop for anything? Dessert? Wine? Hard alcohol to help with the studying?

Ben doesn't respond until she's almost home. 

Ben: No. The only thing missing is you.

***

Ben fidgets with the pen in his hand, twirling it in between his fingers. The pasta is done, the french bread is in the oven.

The only thing that is missing is Rey.

He glances down at his phone to check and see if Rey had responded, but there's no notification. She should be home soon and Ben still doesn't know what he's going to do when he sees her. 

He knows what he wants to do. He doesn't want to waste anymore time. He wants to tell her that she's beautiful, because she is, even if she'll fight it because she always complains about how gross she feels after a shift at the diner when she has to head straight to class. She’s always beautiful though, and now he just wants to tell her that. He wants to be able to tell her that when she wakes up in the morning and she’s scrunching her face up against the harshness of the sun sneaking in, or when she is passionate about something and it lights up her entire face.

He wants to tell her that he loves her. That he has been in love with her the entire time too. He’s just not sure how. 

It doesn't seem like enough to just say that he loves her. She wrote him fucking love letters. And even though Ben only read three, he knows that there are more and that they are just as lovely and somehow all about her feelings for him. She deserves more than just him saying that he feels the same way.

She deserves to know about the day he realized he was in love with her. She deserves to know about the way the slope of her neck into her shoulder drives him crazy. She deserves to know that he pretends to fall asleep during their movie nights because then she'll fall asleep and curl herself around him on the couch. 

The oven beeps and Ben stands from the table, he closes his book, grabbing his note cards and pens and highlighters. He dumps the items into his bedroom, before walking back into the kitchen to pull the french bread out from the oven. 

Ben's sliding the bread onto a cutting board, knife in his hand, when the door opens and Rey walks in.

Ben struggles to remember how to breathe as he stares at her. She looks beautiful. But she's nervous, her fingers are playing with the sleeve of her jacket, pulling and twisting at the loose fabric. She shuts the door, taking a step into the kitchen. 

She's staring at Ben and he can see it now. She loves him and he can see it. How had he never noticed it before?

Maybe he really was an idiot.

He had spent all day fighting his own nerves, trying to come up with the perfect plan on how to tell Rey that he never thought about what she must have spent the entire day doing.

Obviously, she knew that she sent him into her draft emails and that there was a chance that he would see the emails.

Did she know that he read them? Is that why she is looking at him with wide eyes, her mouth slightly open, as if she is almost about to say something, but she doesn't. 

Of course she's worried that he doesn't feel the same way. Why else would she keep writing him draft emails while not saying anything or giving him any real signs about her feelings?

He sets the knife down next to the bread and takes a step toward her.

"Dinner smells good," she says, a little breathless. 

Ben doesn't say anything in response, he just takes another step, closing the distance between him. Rey glances up at him, her body tense as she takes a small step back. 

Ben reaches out for her, his hand settling against her lower back, gently urging her to come closer to him. 

"Ben," she breathes, stepping forward, her hand hovering over his bicep for a second before she commits and rests her hand against the sleeve of his shirt. 

"It was the first night you stayed over," Ben says, brushing a stray piece of Rey's hair behind her ear. "It was… two, maybe three months before you moved in. You came over to study. We had dinner first and then you demanded that we watch a movie before we started studying. Something about how our brains needed a break and we'd be better off waiting for a few hours to get started on our all nighter."

Ben smiles, mostly for himself, remembering how cute she had been arguing with him. 

"We didn't study," Ben continues, running a finger down her cheek. "You fell asleep twenty minutes into the movie. You looked so peaceful and beautiful and I just… all I could think was about how all I wanted in life was to share it with you. Because I was in love with you."

Rey's expression is soft and a little bewildered as he continues. She turns her head slightly, her lips quickly pressing against his thumb.

"I've been in love with you this entire time. I'm sorry I was too scared to tell you. I was nervous… I am nervous that I'm going to ruin this. I love you and I know, Rey, I know that nothing is ever going to change that. I'm going to love you forever. I can feel it in my bones. Be with me? I know it's scary--"

Rey pulls at Ben's shirt until he bends down and she cuts off his sentence by kissing him. Ben sighs against her lips, his eyes closing as he places her free hand on her hips. She deepens the kiss, her tongue running across his, her fingers burying themselves in his hair.

The way Rey feels pressed against him, the pressure of her mouth on his, it's better than he could have imagined. 

It's over too soon, Rey breaks the kiss, a large smile spreading across her face. Ben's grin is just as large and toothy. He stares at her for a second, trying to memorize the way she looks in that moment to his brain. Then he pulls her into his chest and kisses her hair.

"I love you too," Rey says after a moment. "And I agree that it is scary. But I want to be with you. It's worth it."

***

Ben's kisses are something Rey could get addicted to. He kisses with his whole body, the way he angles in his legs to brush against hers, the pressure of his thumb pressing into her hip, his fingernails lightly scratching down her spine. And his lips.

God his lips.

She had been right about his lips. They were absolutely made for kissing.

He left kisses all over her face, her cheek, her jaw, just above her eyebrow. Rey tugged at the bottom of his shirt with one hand, the other quickly moving to run along the exposed skin of his stomach. 

He is so warm and solid underneath her hand. 

Ben pulls away just long enough to pull his shirt off. Rey spends a few seconds taking in the sight of him shirtless, his eyes darker than she has ever seen them as he watches her watch him. 

"You're so gorgeous," she says because she can. Then she moves to pull her own shirt off.

The black bra, which was mostly see through mesh, that she had picked out that morning appears to have been a good choice, judging by the way Ben swallows at the sight, his eyes slowly moving down her body. 

He places one hand over her right breast, gently squeezing before taking her nipple and rolling it in between his fingers. 

Rey moans, pushing herself forward into his hand, desperate for more friction. he repeats the actions on her left breast and Rey can't control the needy sounds falling from her lips. 

Ben pulls away then, dropping his hands to her waist as he takes a step back to put distance between them. 

Rey whines, instinctively following after him.

"The food is going to be cold if we don't stop," he explains, nodding at the pasta that's on the counter. 

Rey shakes her head, lifting up on her toes to kiss him again.

"Ben," she says, her fingers digging into his shoulder as she tries to find her balance. "I don't give a fuck about the food."

***

Ben groans at Rey's words, helpless to pull away when she's saying things like that and smiling against his lips. 

He kisses her, while moving them until her back is pressed against the wall. His fingers making quick work of the button on her jeans.  

This is going too fast. He knows that he should stop, that they should eat and he should ask her to go on an actual date, or to be his girlfriend, or fuck, his wife,  whatever she wants. 

But he can't stop kissing her. And judging by the way she's trying to undo his belt, she doesn't want to stop either. It's hard to argue against the side of his brain begging him to give into the pleasure and to take her into his room when she's pushing his pants and boxers down just enough to run her fingers down his cock.

"Rey, look at me," he begs, his hand grips the corner of the wall as he fails to stop his hips from pushing forward. The way Rey's hands feel wrapped around him, moving at a slow and steady pace as she raises her eyes to his face. Her hand picks up speed, and her eyes slightly narrow in concentration, like she's trying to decipher every twitch of his face so she can make him do it again is too much. 

"Yeah, Ben?" Rey says as an answer, her eyes not leaving his. She looks like the picture of innocence as she holds his gaze, her eyes full of love, her cheeks slightly pink, and her lips turned up in a smile.

It's difficult to believe that she can keep that expression on her face while giving him the best hand job of his life. 

"We should, uh, we should talk," he manages to get out, his grip on the wall tightening. "About all of this and what it means. I don't want… we don't have to rush into anything. We have time."

Rey's hand stops moving and if Ben was capable of holding on to more than a few of his brain cells he would have been embarrassed at the way he kept moving his hips long after she stopped. 

She holds his chin in her other hand, tilting his head down so she can look directly into his eyes before she leans up. The kiss is chaste and short, it leaves Ben wanting more.

"I don't want to talk," she says, moving her hand down his length again. "I don't want to wait either Ben," he shudders at the combination of her words and the way she twists her hand around the head of his penis. "I just want you."

***

Ben doesn't say anything, he tilts his head and looks at Rey like he's trying to decide what he did to deserve her and what he wants to do next. He's all action once he's made up his mind. 

He places his hand on top of Rey's, and Rey pumps him faster, feeling emboldened by the feel of Ben's hands on hers. He moves her hand away off of him, pinning it above her head and against the wall. 

"Ben," Rey sighs, half heartedly fighting against his hold, "I wasn't done--"

Rey stops talking while she watches Ben push down his pants to the floor. He picks her up and Rey wraps her arms around his neck, and her legs around his waist. 

Heat pools in her stomach when he starts to walk them towards his room. His mouth is on her again. Ben's room is only about 30 steps away from the kitchen, but it seems to take forever before Ben finally makes it to his door. 

Ben holds her against the door, carefully shifting her in his arms so that he can move one hand from her to open the door. Rey uses that as an opportunity to suck at the skin just below his jaw. The arm wrapped around her tightens and Rey can hear Ben's sharp intake of breath once she's moved her lips away. 

So she does it again to the skin below his ear, just to see if she gets the same reaction from him. 

Ben carefully sets her down on his bed. He settles his knees on either side of her and bends down to kiss her. His mouth is hot and desperate against hers as he unclasps her bra. Rey leans back on the bed and helps him slide the straps down her arms. 

Rey lifts her hips up so Ben can remove her underwear and jeans. She runs her fingers along the edge of his hip bone.

"You're beautiful," Ben says, his voice lower than Rey has heard it before. He drags his thumb along the curve of her breast and across her nipple.  "You're so beautiful Rey--" his fingers trail down along her waist and stomach until he barely grazes her clit with the pad of his finger. 

But it's enough to send small tendrils of pleasure throughout her body. He moves lower, running a finger through the wetness at her opening. She nods at the questioning look he gives her. 

He pushes a finger inside of her, curling it up as he sets a slow, leisurely pace with his movements. Rey moans, trying to urge him on to go faster.

"Ben, please," Rey begs, though she isn't quite sure what she's asking him to do. "I need more."

Ben drops to his knees, hooking Rey's legs over his shoulder. He adds another finger, picking up speed while he places wet kisses on her thighs and hip bone. His nose brushes against her clit when he moves his head to pay attention to the other side of her body. 

Rey whines, lifting her hips to try to find something to give her friction where she needs it most. Ben grins into her thigh. 

"You're a tease," Rey huffs. "An absolute damn tease and I need--"

"I know what you need," Ben whispers, his breath hot on her center and then he finally, finally lowers his mouth to her clit. 

Rey's brain ceases to function when he sucks and pleasure washes over her body.  She lifts her hips up and she's only slightly annoyed when Ben's hand pushes her back down to the bed. 

Ben works her up easily. He isn't shy about trying different things, and the way he manages to work his tongue with his fingers and his mouth is magic. 

Rey threads her fingers in his hair, she tugs on the strands as he brings her closer and closer to the edge. 

"Ben," Rey whimpers, her back arching. She's fairly confident the grip she has on his hair is actually painful, but she can't bring herself to let go and Ben doesn't seem to mind. At least, it isn't stopping him from devouring her. 

She doesn't want to come yet. She wants to stay in this moment forever. She needs it to last longer so she can commit the way her nerves are buzzing with pleasure and her heart is swelling with love and comfort to her memory. 

Ben sucks harder. The hand on her stomach moves up and he is pinching her nipple and she comes. 

He works her through her orgasm. His mouth and tongue slowing their movements against her clit until she swats at his head. 

"Too sensitive," she mutters, her eyes still closed. He laughs against her skin, resting his chin just above her pubic bone. 

Rey leans up, pressing her elbows into the mattress. "Hi," she says, grinning down at him.

"Hi." Ben sounds a little breathless, but he matches her smile and presses a kiss against her skin. 

His hair is a mess and Rey's stomach swoops with the knowledge that she did that. She's the reason this gorgeous man was out of breath and his usually perfectly tousled hair was all out of place. 

He moves up her body, running his tongue along her exposed skin until his head is hovering just over her own. 

"I love you," he says. And if it were possible Rey knows that he would be able to see her heart beat out of her chest. 

His face is so open and honest it surprises Rey. Because she knows that he said he loved her earlier, but there's still a part of her that isn't sure that he can mean it.

But then he looks at her with such adoration in his eyes and she's not sure how she could doubt him.

"I love you too," she says, beaming up at him as he closes the distance between them.

She can taste herself on his lips, but she isn't complaining as he opens his mouth to deepen the kiss.

"Condom?" she asks, breaking the kiss before placing smaller kisses along his jaw.

He nods, moving off of her and moving to the other edge of the bed. He opens the top drawer of his nightstand and pulls out a condom. Rey just watches as he tears open the wrapper, pinches the tip of the condom and rolls it down his length. 

"Come here," he says and Rey rolls over and makes her way to Ben. She settles herself over him, resting her hands on his shoulders and sinks down on him.

Ben let's her set the pace, but he meets her thrust for thrust and it makes Rey clench against him. He feels so good inside of her, and then he uses his hands, dragging them down on her spine, across her chest, down her stomach until he reaches her clit and he presses down and Rey starts to see stars. Her movements above him stutter and she knows she isn't going to last long if he keeps that up.

"That's it," he says, "Are you going to come for me?" He puts more pressure on his finger, drawing small circles on her clit. 

Rey sighs his name, squeezing her nails into his shoulder. He's taken over, controlling the speed of her thrusts as she just let's him, too lost in the pleasure pulsing through her veins.

"Ben," she groans when his mouth wraps around her nipple, his teeth sharp against her skin.

She comes when he bites down, her vision blurring. He keeps fucking into her chasing his own orgasm.

He comes silently, his breath hot on her neck. Rey catches her breath, enjoying the way Ben can't keep his hands still. He runs his hands over her collarbone, a finger trailing across her jawline, another down her spine.

She rolls off of him once she feels like she can take a full breath without immediately trying to suck in another. He moves around, removing the condom and tossing it into a trash can near his bed.

Rey is glad to discover that her head does fit into the crook of his neck just like she imagined. She tastes the salt on his skin when she leaves an opened mouth kiss to his shoulder. She wraps her arm around his chest and curls herself around him.

"So, you read the emails then?" Rey asks with a small laugh.

Ben kisses her head. "I read three of them, yeah."

"Just three?"

Ben sighs, his fingers continuing to run across her body as if he can't get enough of her skin. "I felt bad. Reading through emails you didn't send me, it felt like I was invading your privacy."

"I'm glad you did," Rey admits, pulling him closer to her. "Otherwise we might not be here."

Ben hums, his chest vibrating underneath her hand. "You have a point."

"Which ones did you read?"

"Um," Ben hesitates. Rey can feel his heartbeat pick up pace. "A recent one about me working out? And then the one on my birthday and the first one."

"Those were good ones," Rey laughs. "You could have read the other ones."

"You could send them to me." Ben drags his fingers through her hair. "I don't want you to hide from me anymore."

"Maybe I will," Rey teases. "Now that I know you might feel the same way about me."

"I do feel the same way," Ben amends her words. "I'm crazy about you. I've been crazy about you."

"But will you be tomorrow?" Rey asks, hating how needy her voice sounds to her own ears. "And the next day?"

"Always," Ben answers. There's no hesitancy to his answer. 

"Always is a long time," Reys says, kissing his neck. "Don't make promises you can't keep."

"I never do," Ben promises. "I'm always going to love you."

"Me too," Rey says, her voice heavy with sleep. "I'm always going to love you."

"Maybe tomorrow we can read the rest of them together?" Ben asks.  

"Yeah," Rey smiles. "We can do that."

[hagefree]

Obviously Oblivious // Sungjin

Apologize in advance for any typos and grammar mistakes. Feel free to correct me on message box!

"You can borrow my notes if you missed a thing or two from Mr. Lee," I said as Sungjin was still catching up with his notes although the class had been dismissed.

He looked up at me, then taking my notebook. His calloused fingers grazed mine. I swear at that moment I wanted to pause everything.

"Thanks a lot! Will give it back to you soon," he held my notebook as if holding it for dear life.

I beamed my best smile, "just take your time, Sungjin."

It took a lot of encouragement to talk to him at the first place. This afternoon I just pushed my luck and thank God, it worked. Sungjin and I had an interaction! I wasn't brave enough to have a chit chat with him despite his warmth towards everyone in our class.

After all this time I just watch him from afar, with me sitting at the back of class and him on the second or third row.

Yes, I've had feelings for Sungjin since...the 2nd year, I think. We took cultural studies class back then. He couldn't be more perfect with his intelligence and pretty eyes. FYI, this semester we take creative writing class.

Sungjin was gathering up his belongings and I watched him as if it was the most appealing art in this world. But yeah, what could I do when the best guy on my version standing gloriously in front of me???

He caught me staring at him and chuckling. Damn, even his chuckle is attractive.

"Why are you still here?" Sungjin asked as getting up from his seat.

Dumb me, I just stood few meters away from him and said nothing.

"Hello?? Anybody here?" I jolted back from my reverie when Sungjin waved his hand right on my face. Good, way to go to make myself looking like a fool.

Then I heard him chuckling again. Please, do more. I'd like to hear it everyday.

"I think you need coffee. You seem lost," he blurted.

Don't you know that I'm completely lost in your eyes, Sungjin?

Having a crush on someone surely makes me corny.

Honestly I'm more tea person than coffee. But hell, as long as it involves Sungjin, I'll definitely go.

We both headed to a cafe just across the campus.

"It's my treat. You can order whatever you fancy," I was kinda surprised with what Sungjin uttered.

Today I was sitting in a cafe with Sungjin and he even treated me. Guess the universe was being nice to me.

Sungjin had iced americano and I picked hazelnut latte.

We sat there face to face silently with some lo-fi tune playing in the background.

"Thanks anyway, for the drink," I broke the silence between us.

He nodded and sipped his drink, "so, tell me about yourself..."

Did I hear it wrong? Sungjin wanted to know me? My forehead puckered.

He cleared his throat, "you know...you tell things...anything make you intrigued these days??"

He seemed flustered with his own words. I've never seen this side of Sungjin. Him dressed up with confidence was gone.

Now it's my turn to chuckle.

"Out of the blue, you want to know me? Why?"

"Because, I see you frequently yet we barely talk." Sungjin fidgeted on his seat. He didn't even look at me when talking.

"Well, we just meet once in a week for....only two months in this class plus we're not doing any project together and you expect us to have a conversation?"

As I looked up, I met his sparkling eyes. I can say that beautiful is an understatement for his eyes.

"Actually—" he ate one of ice cubes in his americano, "—I saw you often at the library, alone. Or with your mate. Way long ago before this semester began," he stated

I was startled with his confession. The fact that Sungjin seeing me often in the library was overwhelming.

Sungjin cackled, "you're oblivious."

I furrowed my brows, "what?!"

As if this day couldn't get any more overwhelming, he added, "I have an eyes for you since freshman year."

And those words left me puzzled.

a/n: I may or may not write this story from Sungjin's POV. As you can read, this chapter is sort of cliffhanger and I do hate the cliffhanger lol

[baconcheeseburger]

A slice of apple pie

Summary:  Your best friend Olivia is in need of a babysitter and you and Dean agree to help her out.

Pairing: Dean x Reader; Olivia (ofc), Marc (omc)

Warnings: fluff

Word count: 2222

A/N: This was inspired by a similar situation I had a few weeks ago, where a friend and I were babysitting for an hour or so. Please bear with me for any mistakes in grammar and spelling, english isn’t my native language. Feel free to correct me though, I’m eager to improve my english skills!

You heard Dean huff on the other side of the table for like the hundredth time. You could see how much he was holding back to say something. By the look on his face you could tell he was slightly annoyed. His jaw clenched when you made your move. It was his turn next.

Before he could move a muscle, his action was cut short by the little individual beside you. “Ha, Unos! I win again! See?” he yelled triumphantly, throwing his tiny arms over his head to show you his empty hands, a big smile on his lips. You chuckled with him.

Dean clenched his jaw again, took a deep breath and was about to say something, but you cut in before he could say a word: “Hey, wow. You're really good at this game! You won almost every round.” Smiling, you took the playing cards from the table and started to shuffle them.

You lightly tapped your foot against Dean's, successfully getting his attention. He raised an eyebrow and looked up with a big question mark in his eyes, laced with annoyance. Still smiling, you slightly shook your head and tried to wordlessly tell him to relax. Dean just rolled his eyes dramatically and breathed out heavily through his nose. You winked and blew him a kiss.

When you were done shuffling for the new round, you handed the cards out.

Olivia, your best friend since high school, had called you around lunch time and had asked you if you could watch her four year old son Marc for a while because her boss made her work longer unexpectedly. Of course you said yes. So you and Dean were on babysitting duty right now. Olivia didn't know what you did for a living, all she knew was that you were traveling across the country a lot because of your job. She had seen you covered in cuts and bruises a few times and was concerned your boyfriend would beat you, but after you reassured her that there was nothing to worry about, that it had been “the bad guys”, she relaxed. To ease her mind you had told her that Sam, Dean and you were helping the police with complicated cases, like some sort of profiler, but with more action. Well, it was kind of the truth, wasn't it? You did indeed help the police. They just didn't know anything about it.

Dean and you had picked up Marc from kindergarten. He was totally over the moon when he saw the Impala. He was so excited, he couldn't stop smiling for the whole ride. You went to get ice cream and then went to the park, where he had been playing and running around for some time until he got bored. You had brought a set of UNO cards with you, because Olivia had mentioned that he liked to play UNO.

As soon as you had mentioned the game, Marc's face lit up and he squealed, quickly crawling onto the bench next to you. He told you, that UNO was his favorite game – he often played it in kindergarten and at home with his mommy and daddy – and that he was very good at it. He always wins, that's how good he was.

You had shuffled the cards and gave everyone five cards. Marc had lost the first round because Dean mercilessly played two +4 cards on him. The next round Marc had begun to cheat. It was so adorable, you just let him, but it kind of annoyed Dean. Marc skipped your or Dean's moves a few times and sometimes he played two cards. He was so happy when he won a round, it was too cute. And his little giggles... Your heart melted at the sound. A few times you partnered up with the little man, so Dean had to draw all the cards. Dean had played himself once by adding a +2 card to the growing pile, he was sure you would have to take all these cards to your hand, but you and Marc both had one on your hands yourselves. In the end Dean had to draw ten cards. Needless to say he wasn't exactly happy about it.

You revealed the card on the top. “Okay, a blue five. Who should start this time?”, you asked Marc.

“Me!” Marc squealed and threw a blue three on the table. Dean was next and added another blue card. You looked at your cards. Four green cards and a red one and none of the numbers matched. Oh well. You pulled a card from the pile, but it was another red card with the wrong number. The round went on like that and Marc won again.

“Unos!” He giggled, happy as a clam. There it was again. Unos. Ah, he was such a cutie-pie.

“We don't stand a chance against you, buddy”, Dean chuckled. He had relaxed by now, he was even smiling when Marc wiggled his small body in a little victory dance. It seemed like the boy had grown on him.

You grabbed the cards and shuffled them again. This time when you revealed the card on the top, it was a red three. Dean took his cards and rearranged them, then he looked up and waited for either one of you to begin. While you rearranged your cards as well and sorted them by color and number, you looked over to Marc. He held his cards in both of his little hands. “Shall I start this time?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “Uncle Dean starts and then it's me and then you, Auntie Y/N”, he ordered and pointed at Dean.

Dean chuckled. “Alright. Hm... Which one should I take?” He pursed his lips and tapped his index finger against his bottom lip while he furrowed his brows and pretended to think about it really hard. “Ah, I know. This one.” He took a card and put it down. Red zero.

Marc put his card on Dean's and revealed a bright red four.

“Oh no, I have no matching cards”, you mumbled and drew a card. It wasn't like you had to, but you were giving Marc a head start. The way he happily celebrated his victories was just... pure sugar.

He giggled and smashed another card on the table, skipping Dean's move. Dean lay his card down after and you had to skip for the round. Marc followed with a +2 card and Dean added one himself. He looked at you, raising his eyebrows.

“Oh well, seems like I have to pull some cards”, you laughed and reached for the pile. Dean turned grinning to Marc and held out his fist. The boy giggled and reached out, bumping his small fist against Deans huge one and they chuckled in union.

You looked at the two of them and smiled. There was a warmth that spread in your chest while looking at them. For a short time you got lost in the moment. You wouldn't mind if Olivia was late to pick him up, you could spent the rest of the day like this. This was definitely a sight you could get used to. Dean was really good with kids, he would be great father. Your heart fluttered and beat faster at the thought alone.

A loud squeal from beside you ripped you out of your thoughts. “Mommy!” Marc jumped off the bench and ran to Olivia who was approaching the table. The impact with her legs was the only thing stopping him and he tightly wrapped his arms around them. Olivia stumbled and laughed. “Hey muffin. Missed me, huh? Did you have fun with Auntie Y/N and Uncle Dean?”

“Yess! We ate ice cream and played Unos, and I won! All the time!” He giggled. You couldn't help but smile.

“Wow, that's great!” She smiled at him and reached for his hand to walk over to Dean and you. She sat down next to you and lifted Marc into her lap.

“Hey you two. Thank you so much for watching him. I'm sorry it was on such short notice, my boss is an a... He can be really mean, let's phrase it that way.” She laughed and glanced at her son who had curled up against her.

“Nah, don't mention it, Livi”, you said and smiled at her. “No biggie at all. We had fun, right?” You turned to face Dean.

He grinned. “Yeah, we had. If you need a babysitter again, just give us a call, Olivia. We'll take him if we're free that day.”

That statement surprised you a bit. You blinked and shot him a questioning look. Not that you minded his offer, not at all and you could tell he meant it sincerely, but somehow you hadn't thought Dean would say it. He just smiled and shrugged.

“That- that's really nice, Dean. Thank you”, she beamed.

“Yaaa!” Marc called out happily and threw is arms in the air. You were glad that he had enjoyed the afternoon with you and was so excited to do it again.

Olivia laughed and looked at him. “Alright, what ya sayin' we head home, get you cleaned up and start cooking? Daddy will be home soon.” Marc nodded his head enthusiastically and jumped from his mothers lap, already running off to the car she had parked near by.

She leaned to you and embraced you in a quick but firm hug before she got up. “Thank you again, Y/N. Dean. See ya!” She waved, then turned around and walked back to her car where Marc was standing by the door, bouncing on his heels. They got into the car and when Olivia turned the car, you raised your hand and waved her goodbye.

Dean stood up, made his way around the table and sat down next to you. He reached an arm around you to pull you into his side. His hand rested on your hip and yours found it's way to his thigh just above his knee, where you started to draw circles with your thumb. You smiled and leaned your head against his shoulder. Dean pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, letting his lips linger for a second before he chuckled lightly. “Little cheating shit.”  

“I thought it was damn cute. And he's only four, Dean”, you reminded him laughing.

“Yeah, I know. Still. There are rules. A four year old is old enough to know that and follow them. Especially when he plays as often as he said.” He underlined his words by bringing the side of his free hand down to the edge of the table again and again.

You giggled. “You are such a sore loser, baby.”

“Already noticed, huh?” Dean smirked and pulled you even closer before he pressed his lips to your temple.

For a while you just sat there in comfortable silence, enjoying the moment. The sun was slowly going down. It was a beautiful sight with the sun vanishing behind the trees, the sky liting up in the prettiest colors and the sun rays shining through the trees. This was one of those rare quiet moments you had, where you could just sit and enjoy the company of each other. You cherished every second of it.

You turned your head, planted a kiss to the sensitive spot under his ear and brushed the tip pf you nose against the soft skin. “I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetheart”, he said lovingly and leaned his cheek against your head.

You took a deep breath, inhaling his calming, intoxicating smell and let you mind wander. The afternoon with Marc got you thinking about having kids on your own. You had always wanted to start a family, having a kid or maybe two. But a hunter was not the safest job one could have, right. So you had pushed the dream of the white picket fence, apple pie life deep down for years and kept it stored there as what it was and always would be: a dream. A hidden wish in the deepest corners of your mind. But after today it had crawled its way back to the surface and you caught yourself daydreaming about an easier, safer, life. You could hear and see it clear as day – a small house with a garden, two little children playing tag in the backyard, laughter filled the air. Dean by your side.

You looked up at Dean and wondered how he thought about this. You had never talked about kids, your life just wasn't the life for raising children. Family meant weak spot; let alone the case one parent – or god forbid, both! – didn't make it on a hunt... Your heart hurt, just thinking about all the deadly scenarios that could occur. No. It was too risky. Too dangerous. Pain and death were predetermined.

But still. You couldn't stop the little warm spark that started to burn in your heart when you imagined starting a family with Dean. And a small part of you hoped, that maybe, one day, your dream would come true.

What you didn't know: Dean was thinking the exact same things.