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ukiyo-jaem · 4 years

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NCT Dream Reaction to You Wearing a Short Skirt

Renjun

he was helping you clean out your old closet at your parent's house. both of you had just bought an apartment together so your parents left you the house keys, expecting all the moving hassle to be done when they come back next monday; a road trip being paid by their jobs.

jun spent his time sitting in your old bean bag occupying himself with your old journals and photo albums. "you went to a school with a uniform?" he asked and you looked to see him looking at your old school's photo album.

"wha- oh yeah." you breathed out a slight laugh and dug a little deeper into your closet. "speaking of uniforms." you chuckled and held up the plaid skirt to your body, looking into your mirror.

"i wonder if it still fits." your head leaned to the side. "im gonna try it on." you finally decided and walked to the bathroom and wasting no time. it fit perfectly...just...shorter than you remembered.

you were gonna take it off yet remembering your boyfriend that was sitting in your bedroom.

you tucked your graphic tee into the skirt and went back to your room, his gaze still stuck to your old photos. "so what do you think?" you saw him do a double-take, his eyes landing on your ass that was practically hanging out the bottom.

"it...it fits nice." he nodded, his hands setting the book down beside him on the floor.

"i remember i would get in trouble everyday because the teachers didnt know how to mind their stares." his answer was delayed as he swallowed hard. "i mean..." you noticed a more fidgety renjun as he thought for a moment. "i can't blame them." he whispered but it was enough for you to hear.

you smiled, walking closer to him and lowering yourself onto him so your legs were straddling his thighs; the fabric of the old skirt becoming bunched up at the top of your thighs.

your hands rested on his shoulders, his frame relaxing at your touch as his hands rested on your exposed thighs.

"you're so cute and blushy." you pinched his cheek and his smile fell. a more unsettling tone took place as his eyes seemed to get darker. he took your wrist and gripped your hand roughly, forcing your hand down to his now apparent bulge.

"and you're such a brat. you know what you were doing, baby." an airy laugh escaped his chest as your hand could feel him getting harder by the second.

"so...are we going to do something about this or are you going to keep grinding on my lap acting like i don't notice?"

Jeno

he was finally off and agreed to go on a small date to relax and unwind. "im going to go get ready." you said getting up and kissing his cheek. "alright. ill just wait for you here." he smiled and watch you walk off.

you wanted to do a coupley outfit today. you grabbed a tighter white t-shirt and a shorter pink plaid skirt with one of his oversized flannels. you walked down and he immediately almost started choking on the water he was drinking.

"isnt it so cute?" you asked as you did a little spin infront of him. yet, his response was just picking you up and holding you tightly as he walked back to the bedroom.

you didn't know he was going to react the way he did. jeno saw you in the short and flowy skirt and thought he saw red.

the coffee date seemed so distant as you were both in bed now, entangled in eachother. his hands would grip your thighs with such force it felt like he could break you in half if he really wanted to.

"you just look so good." his lips attacked your neck and painting it with dark hues. "i just can't control myself." your hands gripped and pulled at his hair; messiness setting in and making him look absolutely euphoric.

his hands got lost up your shirt and was just grabbing and pulling roughly. he couldn't take it anymore and just ripped your shirt down the middle, your chest now exposed, rising and falling quickly.

"you look so nice, babydoll." he fawned at you, his hand coming to brush your hair back out of your face.

"you should wear this kind of stuff more often." he winked, laying a more softer kiss against your lonely lips.

[you're mark]

Hyuck

all day...games...after breakfast...games...after lunch...games...after you fell asleep in his arms for nap, you woke up to the constant keyboard clicking...after dinner he was right back in his chair with the rest of the boys on a conference call on his phone; shouting following you down the hall and into the living room.

you were done though. you wanted to have your time with hyuck. it was your turn. you went to your dance bag, grabbing your old costume skirt from a previous dance competition. you went to the bathroom and changed quickly. you added the finishing touch which was one of his shirts; his weakness for seeing you in his clothes running through your revengeful mind.

no time was wasted as you went to the shared bedroom. "no go to the left, jae!" "the other left." your boyfriend yelled at his computer screen.

your soft steps went unnoticed until you were right next to him. you set your hand softly on his shoulder. he only looked at you for a second though. "hey, babe." he spaced back out, not even noticing your attire options.

"jaemin if i have to tell you one more time on where to go i am goi-" your fingertips grazed up the side of his neck, slowly tugging on his hair at the back of his head.

his eyes closed as he leaned his head back and let out a deep sigh. his hands became limp at the keyboard and his friends began calling out for him. you had gotten him exactly where you wanted him.

his gaze became more glazed over as both of you became caught up in each other. "im so lonely, hyuckie." you whined and his hand began trailing up the back of your thigh.

"you just had to ask." he smiled a little and his eyes finally caught his t-shirt hanging from your body.

he turned his chair and leaned forward to grab your body and put you on top of him. "LEE DONGHYUCK WHERE ARE YO-" "im busy. bye." and he hung up quickly as they tried to make him stop.

"now where were we?" he asked as his hand came to both sides of your face, guiding you to kiss him softly, hands then coming down to just go back up his shirt.

yet when he took his shirt off your body, he was met with a pleasant surprise. a white skirt laid bunched up at your hips. his hands came to your exposed ass and began forcibly grind you on his lap.

your soft touches drove him absolutely wild as he wanted to make you more vulnerable as the minutes ticked by.

yall shoulda known where I was bout to go with this...

Jaemin

you went and grabbed one of your skirts you had bought awhile ago and slipped it on with some thigh high socks. you went out and started to clean up a little bit. you began to tidy the living room where jae sat on the couch watching a random show he found.

you bent over and began to clean off the coffee table. "oh sorry, am i in the way?" "a little." he said, craning his neck around you to continue watching the show.

you wanted to face palm and walk off. yet, you were going to push on. you grabbed your phone, checking random emails as you sat in the seat next to him. "hey, jae?" you asked and he only tilted his head toward you, his pinkish hair being contained by a black baseball cap.

"im gonna go out with jeno for a little bit. i'll be back in a couple hours." you said and grabbed your keys from infront of him and trying to walk over his legs.

his arm flew forward and wrapped around your body, pulling you down towards him quickly.

"you're not going anywhere dressed like that, princess." he said, gaze looking down at you in his lap.

"well i want to do something then." you sat up in his lap and crossed your arms over your chest. "then do something. but you're not going to go do something with my friend dressed like this." his touch slowly going up under your skirt.

"well come on, princess. do something." his hands then went behind his head. a smirk sat on his lips and he felt as if he won. he really did and at this point you were desperate.

"please, jaemin. just touch me." you pouted and he wanted to coo at your cute ways but he bit his lip and waited. "i don't think you need me ye-" you grabbed his hand and put it on your clothed heat.

you grinded on his hand desperate for some friction. you were ready for him but he didn't want to give you that satisfaction yet.

he wanted to keep you in this skirt forever and you be his little princess that only he could do this to.

he froze in his position, his eyes locked onto his hand that disappeared under your tiny skirt.

his other hand grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you down towards his lips where he was ready to give you what you were wanting and waiting for.

Chenle

this baby wouldn't know what to do when he saw you in your tiny skirt.

he would feel turned on definitely but didn't want to act out of line and touch you if this wasn't your clear and true intention.

you would have to guide him a little bit on what to do but once he started going, he found it hard to stop. you were a new drug-like anomaly he was completely addicted to.

this was still new to him so you doing this for the soul purpose of getting this kind of reaction...well...he didn't mind it all too much.

he asked you for permission to touch you even when you guided his hands onto you.

"can...can i-" "you don't have to ask lele. just do what feels right." you smiled a little, beginning to kiss up his neck softly. "even if you know it's completely wrong."

boyfriend lele vibes are strong in this one uwu i just had to put it in

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ais-for-alex · 3 years

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The Scars of Our Past: Chapter 23

Hope y’all enjoy the chapter 🥰

“Why is it every time I see you, you look even more exhausted than when you left?” Fabian said only half joking while looking him up and down critically. Leo huffed a sigh as he dropped his bag and plopped down next to his friend to start lacing up his skates.

Leo chuckled in response, “I don’t know man, it’s just been… an emotionally charged week.”

“Yeah? Didn’t you just move in with that guy, I thought you would be happy? Is it already not working out?”

“No,” Leo answered quickly, making Fabian glance over at him in surprise, “no, it’s been great, Finn is great. There’s just…” Leo let his voice trail off, not entirely sure what it was he wanted to say. His mind flicked back to the night before, falling asleep in Finn's bed, the man himself wrapped up tight in his arms, the warm velvety timer of his voice lulling him into unconsciousness as he painted pictures with his words. Then this morning when he woke up alone, the warm sheets his only companion.

When the early morning sunrays began streaming through Finns open blinds Leo had slowly blinked his eyes open a bit nervously. He couldn’t help the butterflies fluttering inside him, he was scared to see where he would stand with Finn now that the cover of night had been stripped away by the golden light of morning. However, it seemed his fear was unwarranted as the redhead was nowhere to be found once Leo had finally opened his eyes. Glancing down at the empty space Finn’s body had once occupied, Leo found a slip of paper; one edge was ragged like it had been torn from a notebook and in neat angular handwriting was a message.

Good morning Nutter Butter. I went out for a run to clear my head this morning so I probably won’t see you until later. Have a good day at practice, I’ll see you tonight.

At the bottom he had signed his name and added a little doodle of a fish. Leo smiled softly reading the words over again, he trailed a fingertip over the paper feeling the little indents from where Finn's pen had pressed into the paper. And when he wandered back over to his own room to get ready to head to practice Leo took that paper with him, he so very carefully tucked it into his nightstand wanting to keep it safe.

“There’s just a lot,” he finally finished.

Fabian nodded, seeming to catch some of the meaning behind those words, “Hey, you know what? How about after practice we head to the coffee shop and you can tell me about that lot that you have going on. Maybe an outside opinion can make it easier, or even just talking about it might help.”

Leo felt a little jolt of affection for his friend, after all Fabian had been the first one to welcome him to Gryffindor with open arms and had since remained as a constant support.

“That actually sounds really great.”

“Alright, well it’s a plan,” he said with a crooked grin, “but now we need to get out on the ice before Madam Maxine comes searching for us, cause believe me it would not be fun.”

“I’ll take your word for that,” Leo said with a laugh following Fabian out of the locker room and towards the ice. The two of them parted and began working through their warm ups, Leo melted into the motions stretching and loosening his shoulders, his hips, making sure his muscles were warm and ready to let him fly.

Once he had finished his warm ups Leo set to work on the second of the new jumps Madam Maxine had added to his program. The quads were challenging, that’s an understatement, Leo thought to himself as he pulled his body off the ice for the umpteenth time rubbing at the sore bruise forming on his ass cheek.

“Leo, come.”

Leo glanced up to see that Madame Maxine had glided elegantly onto the ice herself and was beckoning him over to her. Skating closer Leo blinked a bit in shock, he was always thrown when he came across someone taller than himself and his coach positively towered over him on her skates.

“You’re making progress,” she said, accent thick around the words.

“Thank you Madam,” he nodded.

“You still need to work on your expressions though, your face is completely blank when you skate. I can see the gears turning in your mind as you perform.”

“Uh… yeah, I’m still working on that,” Leo said, feeling a self-conscious flush rise in his cheeks. He still had no idea how to make his feelings come across in his performance, after all he had begun figure skating as a way of running and hiding from the feelings inside him, how was he supposed to simply just let them out for everyone to see?

“Have you settled on a composition? You should really be working with your music at this stage.”

“No, um not quite,” he said, brushing a bit of hair out of his face nervously. Leo knew that he should have picked his music a long time ago but for some reason anything that he listened to just didn’t feel right, it didn’t fit.

“Hmm, you have one more week to choose,” she said sternly, “if you have not selected a piece by then, you will not be ready to compete.”

“Alright, I’ll have something by then,” Leo replied, Madam Maxine simply nodded and gestured for him to continue his work before she skated away to speak to Gilderoy. With a little sigh Leo got back to it.

***

Leo groaned at the ache in his bones when he finally left the ice, making his way into the locker room on his blade guards. Sitting down on the bench to unlace his skates Leo snagged a water bottle and his phone from his skate bag only to realiz there were several new notifications waiting for him. He huffed a laugh at the name that popped up when he clicked on the message.

(Mighty Mouse): Video attached

Leo clicked on the video and suddenly Logan’s face was filling up his screen as he held the camera in front of himself.

“So, when I got to the rink for practice today, guess what I found waiting for me?” Logan’s voice fell from the phone's speaker filled with exasperation. He shifted the camera to what looked like his stall in the team’s locker room, pushed to the side was a pile of what looked like children’s hockey equipment in the Lions colors.

“This,” he said, turning the camera back to himself dramatically, “is the aftermath of what one James Potter considers a prank.” Logan reached down and grabbed something out of the pile and held up a ridiculously small jersey that had read Tremblay 10. “He came in here and replaced every single piece of gear in my stall with equipment meant for six year olds,” there was a pained look on Logan’s face as he said that but Leo couldn’t help the cackle that ripped through him at the thought of Logan walking into the locker room to find everything in his spot miniaturized.

“And then!” Logan continued on the video, “when I being a little confused as to where all my crap went, asked what was going on, this bastard had the audacity to look me dead in the eye and say ‘Oh, I thought these would fit you better, with how small you are and everything.’”

Leo completely lost it at that coupled with the crazed look on Logan’s face, he could barely breathe through his howling laughter.

“I swear, if he didn’t need them to play I would have taken his knee caps right then and there,” Logan zoomed the camera a little closer to his face and let his voice fall a bit to a whisper, “but I’ll get him back, believe me I’ll get him back.” Logan’s eyes glowed with mischief, “I’ll keep you posted,” he said with a wink just as the video ended.

Leo was still chuckling as he clicked the next attached video clip which looked like it was sent a little later than the first. Logan was now in what looked like a weight room, he had changed into a Lions logo muscle shirt, a pair of basketball shorts, and he had his curls tucked up under a snapback. Leo struggled to pull his focus onto the words coming from Logan’s mouth as his strong arms and shoulders were now in full view.

“So,” Logan started glancing over at the door to make sure no one was coming, “I’ve devised the perfect payback.” Logan grinned deviously at the camera and held up a little container that made Leo gasp when he recognized it, “well, if you don’t know, this here is citric acid and even just a tiny bit will turn something into a tart little surprise.” Logan chuckled and grabbed a bottle of blue Gatorade, “this is James’s, he’s pretty much the only one that drinks the blue. Honestly, he’s a little obsessive about it. Well, let’s see how much he likes it with… let’s say a hefty amount of citric acid in there.”

“Oh no,” Leo couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out as he watched Logan unscrew the cap and dump more citric acid than should ever be consumed into the Gatorade. He gave the bottle a shake and placed it over by someone’s gym bag.

“And now we wait,” he grinned and wagged his eyebrows at the camera suggestively as the clip cut out.

Leo didn’t hesitate for a second before clicking on the last video Logan had sent, from the timestamp only a few minutes ago. This clip was a little different, Logan was no longer holding the camera; he must have propped his phone up against an unused weight plate as Leo could now see the rest of the weight room. There were now several more people there using various machines, Leo’s eyes instantly snapped to where Logan was off to the side doing deadlifts, he had to stop himself from gasping aloud at the sight. Tearing his eyes away from Logan to glance at the others, he spotted none other than Sirius Black standing and chatting with a slightly shorter man with a mop of curly brown hair and thin wire framed glasses. The two were near where Logan had placed the contaminated Gatorade bottle. As they talked the man with glasses, who Leo assumed must be James, reached down and snagged the bottle. Leo cringed in anticipation as he watched James laugh carelessly at something Sirius said then finally bring the bottle up to his lips.

James had taken the biggest gulp imaginable of the sour liquid and Leo watched the exact moment his very soul left his body as it hit tongue. What happened next must have only been milliseconds but Leo still could see as James face first went green, then ghostly pale, his eyes wide and panicked before he sprayed the drink directly into Sirius’s face.

Leo was laughing so hard he wasn’t even making noise anymore just clutching his stomach and shaking from it as he watched James drop to his knees and spit trying to get the sour taste out of his mouth while Sirius was spluttering in disgust. In the background Leo could hear the rest of the guys in the weight room laughing just as hysterically. Suddenly, Logan's face came into frame just as the video ended.

“What was that about?”

Leo glanced up at Fabian who had settled next to him to unlace his own skates. Still trying to suppress his laughter, Leo just shook his head, “nothing, just a friend doing something stupid.”

“Yeah? You know, I think that was the first time I’ve seen you actually laugh like that.”

“That’s not true,” Leo immediately shot back, “I laugh all the time, it’s not my fault you aren’t as funny as you think you are.”

Fabian made a scandalized face and put a hand over his heart, “Ouch, that hurt. I am mildly offended. I am a hoot.”

Leo scoffed at that.

“And besides I’m talking like actually laughing, not that polite little chuckle you do.”

Just then Leo felt his phone buzz in his hand, when he glanced down he nearly choked at the image waiting for him. Logan had taken off his shirt, revealing his entire chest and torso glistening in a sheen of sweat leftover from his workout, his curls were fluffing out from under the edges of his snapback and he had his face scrunched up like he was laughing super hard. The caption ‘I Won’ was written across the image, in the background Leo could just see both James and Sirius glaring daggers at him.

“Is that this ‘friend’ that seems able to make you laugh uncontrollably?” Fabian asked leaning over to sneak a peek at the picture.

“Hmm, yeah,” Leo answered, his eyes still roving over the image of Logan on his screen, a soft smile pulled at his lips, “this is Logan,” he turned the screen a bit showing Fabian.

“Wait, Logan? As in Logan Tremblay? From the Lions?”

Leo simply nodded.

“From that look on your face I take it he has something to do with everything you’ve had going on lately?”

He nodded again.

Fabian chuckled and leaned down to pull off his skates, “Well, hurry up and get changed then you can tell me all about him, and Finn.”

Leo rolled his eyes fondly but slipped his phone back into his bag and began pulling off his own skates. It wasn’t long before the two of them, now clad in their street clothes, had made their way to Polaris Coffee claiming a cozy booth in the corner to chat.

Leo wrapped his hands around his drink, the heat bleeding through the ceramic into his palms. He couldn’t help but think back to the last time he had sat in this coffee shop, a different redhead smiling at him across the table. Fabian was almost uncharacteristically quiet, evidently waiting for Leo to feel comfortable enough to share the things that have been on his mind over the past weeks.

“So…” Leo began not entirely sure where to start.

“So…” Fabian mimicked raising his eyebrows teasingly, making Leo laugh. A bit of tension bled out of him as he took a sip of his coffee, he let the warm rich flavor wash over his tongue and calm his nerves.

“I think I’m falling in love with my roommate… and his best friend,” Leo said, jumping straight into the heart of the matter. And just like that it was like a dam breaking, words tumbled out of Leo’s mouth as he told Fabian about his time with Finn and Logan. He glossed over the parts about his past, but he told him about every subtle look, every gentle brush of fingertips, and sweet embrace. By the time he had run out of words Leo’s heart ached with the knowledge that he was utterly fucked by the intensity of his feelings for these two.

“You know,” Fabian started setting his mug down with a soft clunk on the table, “to me it sounds these people mean a lot to you, I’m honestly not seeing a problem here.”

Leo sighed and flopped back against the booth, his head knocking against the wooden part, “They really do, and well, I guess it’s not so much of a problem as just a bit complicated. I mean I like them, both of them. But Finn and Logan have this… thing between them. Like I get the vibe that they like each other, but then there’s moments with each of them that makes me think just maybe they like me. I just… I don’t know Fab.”

“Have you tried talking to them?” Fabian asked, “Like I know that sounds like the cliché answer but honestly, I think that’s really the only way you’ll be able to know how either of them are actually feeling. About you, and about each other.”

Leo snagged his mug off the table and took a sip before replying, “I know,” he sighed. “I know I need to talk to them. I don’t think it’ll be bad with Finn, from what I’ve seen so far he’s pretty open with his thoughts but Logan, Logan will be a challenge.”

Fabian shot him a sympathetic look at that, “Well, I’m always here for moral support,” he raised his mug in a little salute.

Leo chuckled and rolled his eyes but clinked his own mug against it before taking another sip of his drink.

Read on ao3

Chapter 22 Chapter 24

#sweater weather #coast to coast #leo knut #logan tremblay #lumosinlove #o'knutzy #finn o'hara #writing #figure skating #hockey #the scars of our past

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becca-petersen · 4 years

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A Better Friend (fanfic)

So... I finally finished chapter one of my Gretchen/Janis fanfiction. I’m going to post it on fanfiction and possibly ao3 (which I’ve never used before so we’ll see how that works out), but I thought I’d post it here first! It’s not my best work and it’s a multi-chapter fic so it’s not completed, but at least it’s a start! I’m going to put it under the cut because it’s long. I hope you read and enjoy!

A Better Friend

A Mean Girls the musical fanfic

Gretchen was eager for the final bell to ring. In fact, she’d given up on even pretending to listen to Ms. Norbury’s lecture. Gretchen always struggled to pay attention during math class, and today was no exception. Gretchen had something far more important than trigonometry on the brain. She gripped her hot pink, jewel encrusted pen, tapping it against her desk anxiously. Usually, Gretchen would discreetly pull her phone out of her bag and scroll through Instagram or text Regina under her desk where Ms. Norbury couldn’t see. But today, she wasn’t just afraid of Ms. Norbury catching her in the act.

Gretchen brought her pen to her mouth and chewed on the button, pushing it down and pulling it back up with her teeth. She could feel her heart fluttering in her chest, and butterflies tickling her stomach. The end of the school day had quickly grown to have new meaning to Gretchen. It meant she could go home and talk to the only person that truly understood and accepted her.

When the ball rang, a sharp scream against the monotonous drone of Ms. Norbury’s lecture, Gretchen was relieved. She stood up instantly, gathering her books and her bag before she hurried out of the classroom and toward the senior parking lot. Usually Gretchen carpooled with Regina and Karen, but she hadn’t been ready by the time Regina pulled into her driveway. The older girl honked three times, and when Gretchen didn’t appear on the third shriek of the horn, Regina pulled out of the driveway without her. That was okay. Gretchen didn’t blame her for not waiting. She’d been so late that morning, she missed first period. Luckily, Gretchen was impressively gifted at forging notes from her parents.

The thing that had kept her up so late was the same thing that caused her to half-run towards her Barbie-pink Mercedes-Benz as soon as school let out. She hardly even paid attention to her rearview mirror as she backed out of her parking spot. Her hands gripped the wheel tightly as she turned onto the busy street. Gretchen groaned each time she had to press her stilettoed foot down on the brake to wait for one of her classmates to cross the street on foot in front of her. Each stop light Gretchen hit felt like a personal attack against her. She jerked the wheel abruptly to the right and raced down the last street before she got home.

She turned her car off and pulled the key out of the ignition, sticking her middle finger through the key chain and hitting the button to lock her vehicle as she opened the front door and walked inside. She didn’t bother checking for her parents, she knew they weren’t home. They always worked late, and Gretchen had learned not to waste time waiting up for them. She slipped her shoes off and left them beside the door, a family rule - no shoes in the house. Frankly, Gretchen’s feet needed the break from her too-high stilettos. She gripped her phone in her hand, leaving her backpack and homework to be neglected until late Sunday night, and raced up the stairs, padding her bare feet against the wool carpet. When Gretchen reached her bedroom, she carefully closed and locked the door behind her, just to be safe.

Gretchen’s room was understated compared only to Regina’s. She had to beg her parents to let her paint the walls pink, which she only decided to do after Regina said she should. They used to be blue and yellow, but Gretchen really did like the pink better. Even if it didn’t really match the yellow carpet or her blue comforter.

Gretchen sat down at her desk, which used to be her grandmother’s. Regina said it was hideous the first time she saw it, but Gretchen’s mother wouldn’t let her move it downstairs to the den. Gretchen had liked the desk before Regina said it wasn’t cool. Now she grimaced every time she sat down at it.

Gretchen grabbed her bright pink laptop and flipped it open, typing in her password, F3tchGr3tch01, to unlock the screen. She already had the website open because she fell asleep without turning her computer off. She clicked the refresh button in the top corner and waited impatiently as the screen went blank, then returned to the display of her inbox.

‘You have (2) new messages!’ the pop-up said. Gretchen clicked it, and she was redirected to the message screen.

ipaintdeadflowers - believe me, it’s good. i don’t know why you’re always doubting yourself.

ipaintdeadflowers - it looks like you fell asleep. i guess i better go to bed, too. sweet dreams. i’m going to paint something for you in art class tomorrow.

Gretchen smiled. Nobody had ever painted something for her before. She had only ever dated Jason Weems, who didn’t even like to be seen in public with her. Not that she was dating this online… person. Gretchen didn’t even know what ipaintdeadflowers looked like. In fact, Gretchen didn’t even know her name. She began to type.

you - That’s adorable. Sorry I fell asleep. I wanted to stay up talking to you, but I couldn’t keep my eyes open. I can’t wait to see what you painted for me.

Gretchen hesitated a second on the enter button. Then she pushed it, her computer making a little ping noise. Almost immediately, three dots came up below her message, appearing and disappearing as her companion typed. Another ping sounded as she received a new message.

ipaintdeadflowers - it’s fine. i get it. how was your day? here’s the painting, by the way. i didn’t get it completely done because i ran out of time, but i’ll finish it tomorrow. paintingforg.jpg

Gretchen clicked on the file. She smiled. Her friend was so talented. The painting was colorful, like all J’s paintings were. The colors faded together so seamlessly, too. J was fearless. She flicked her brush like she didn’t care if what she made turned out ugly - which it never did. This painting was of the night sky, the stars and moon practically shining on the page. In the corner, she could see J’s thumb, holding the painting down for the picture. Her fingernail was painted black.

you - It looks done to me. It looks great. I love it.

ipaintdeadflowers - i just need to do some shading. then it’ll be tits. that dress you sent me last night really inspired me.

you - I can see that. Your painting is so much better than my drawing, though.

ipaintdeadflowers - don’t say that. you are so talented. one day you’ll be headlining fashion shows all over the world. i hope you don’t forget me when that happens.

you - I would never forget you. You’re one of the only people I can talk to. Like, about real stuff.

ipaintdeadflowers - i still think you should stop hanging out with that girl you always tell me about. you deserve to have friends who are nice to you. she sounds like a friend i used to have… and if she really is like that, things will end badly. trust me.

you - It’s more complicated than that. We’ve been best friends for years. Besides, who would be my friend if I ditched them? Who would I sit with at lunch?

ipaintdeadflowers - i would be your friend. i would sit with you at lunch.

Gretchen bit her lip. It was only a fantasy. She wouldn’t really stand up to Regina or go sit with J at lunch. It was too crazy. Gretchen liked having structure in her life. She hated the unknown, and the real J, the one who wasn’t sitting behind a screen typing, she was completely foreign to Gretchen. Gretchen started to type.

you - You won’t even show me what you look like.

ipaintdeadflowers - neither will you

Gretchen didn’t know why she was so desperate to see J’s face. She spent a lot of time imagining her. Her nose, her eyes, her lips… Her neck, her jaw, the curve of her shoulder… No. Gretchen couldn’t go there. She saw how Regina chewed up and spit out her old friend from middle school. She had to force herself to fake laugh every time Regina opened up to that page in the Burn Book. Gretchen had closed that part of herself off. She couldn’t… But she wanted to. Maybe it would be okay, if she told this friend. J didn’t even know her real name. It’s not like J could spread it around school.

you - have you ever kissed anybody?

There was a long pause as those three little dots began rotating again below her message. Gretchen twirled a piece of hair around her finger as she waited.

ipaintdeadflowers - what does that have to do with anything?

you - I just wondered.

ipaintdeadflowers - have you?

Gretchen tied the chunk of hair she was fiddling with into a knot, then let it go. It immediately unraveled, spilling back down onto her shoulder. She lifted a tube of chapstick beside her keyboard, uncapping it before she brought it to her lips. One, two, three swipes across her mouth, then she rubbed her lips together. She took her time capping the tube and setting it back where she’d found it. Gretchen breathed out slowly, silently counting to three.

She brought her fingers back to the keyboard and began to type. She looked at what she’d written, then groaned and tapped the backspace key repeatedly until her message had disappeared. She tried again to type something, but her words fell short once more. Gretchen had attempted to deny the feelings she was developing for the other girl for far too long. But as hard as she tried, she couldn’t lie to herself. It went beyond friendship and Gretchen knew it. But J had never expressed that kind of interest in Gretchen. And Gretchen hated the idea of putting herself out there only to get rejected. And besides, she hadn’t wanted anything to ruin the special bond the two girls shared.

ipaintdeadflowers - g? you still there?

you - Yeah, I am. I’m sorry. I’m just trying to think of the right thing to say.

ipaintdeadflowers - you don’t always have to say the right thing. especially not with me. you know that, right?

you - Yeah… I do.

Gretchen’s heart was pounding a little faster in her chest. She could see that J was typing, but she knew if she didn’t send her message right now, she would lose the nerve forever.

you - I like you.

ipaintdeadflowers - yeah, i like you too

you - I mean, I like-like you.

ipaintdeadflowers - oh.

Gretchen’s heart sank in her chest. That was the sort of response she’d been expecting, but that didn’t make it any less disappointing. She was hurt and embarrassed. She started to type another message.

you - forget I said anything. Never mind. I was only kidding.

ipaintdeadflowers - no. don’t take it back. i’m sorry. i was just surprised. the thing is, i like you too. i don’t usually like anyone, but i like you.

you - You do?!?

ipaintdeadflowers - yeah. i mean… it’s not easy for me to talk about this stuff. i’m not great with feelings. i just… i like you a lot. i wasn’t sure if you were even…

ipaintdeadflowers - i just didn’t know how you would feel if i said anything. i didn’t want to make things weird between us.

The disappointment Gretchen felt only moments ago completely melted away. She only felt joy, pure and unadulterated joy. She stood up from her chair and did a little dance around her room, squealing to herself as butterflies fluttered in her chest. Giddy couldn’t even begin to describe how happy she felt as she slid back into her chair and began to type again.

you - So… Have you ever kissed anyone?

ipaintdeadflowers - why do you care so much about that?

you - Because I really want to kiss you.

ipaintdeadflowers - g. you don’t even know what i look like.

you - I don’t care what you look like. I would want to kiss you even if you were ugly. That’s how much I like you.

ipaintdeadflowers - you are absolutely ridiculous and i like you so fucking much.

you - Do you think we could meet in person sometime?

ipaintdeadflowers - hey, i know this is a bad time but i really have to go. i’ll talk to you tonight? bye, g

Then the message “ipaintdeadflowers has left the chat room” popped up below her message. Gretchen sighed, typing a goodbye back to J even though she wouldn’t read it until she returned. Every time Gretchen tried to arrange a meeting with the other girl, she got distant or defensive, then told Gretchen she had to go, but would be back later. Whenever J came back, she always changed the subject, and Gretchen never felt like pushing the issue too far.

Of course Gretchen had considered that she was being catfished. But for that to make any sense, she figured J would need to be pretending to be someone she wasn’t. And that didn’t seem to be the case. J never sent any pictures of her face and never told Gretchen her real name, first or last. If J was a catfish, she was a pretty bad one.

Gretchen was disappointed that her friend left so abruptly, but her heart still fluttered when she remembered the content of their conversation. J liked her, too. Gretchen couldn’t help but smile. She scrolled back up and reread those words over and over again. It felt like a dream. She didn’t want to wake up.

Gretchen met J on a forum for young artists. Ever since she was a little girl, Gretchen wanted to design clothes. She spent most of her free time creating renderings of her designs, and since she knew her parents wouldn’t support her passion, and her friends would likely think it was stupid, she looked for a different outlet to share her talents. She found the website by chance. There was an advertisement for it on the website she bought her art supplies from. She created her account and within a few minutes she’d read through every recent thread, and she kept noticing ipaintdeadflowers’s username. Out of curiosity, she clicked on the name, which brought her to J’s profile page, where Gretchen found all the artwork J had posted to the website throughout the last few years. Gretchen liked her paintings so much that she decided to reach out to the other girl, though it took her a few minutes of agonizing before she clicked send on her message. She could still remember it.

you - Hi. I don’t mean to bother you, but I just wanted to let you know that you’re really talented. I’m glad you share all your art on here. If I sent you my drawings, would you tell me how to make them better? I’m just starting out and I could use some advice. Thank you so much for your time. Again, I’m sorry if this message is annoying. I totally get it if you aren’t interested.

It took Gretchen a week to actually send that message. She typed it out, then copied and pasted it into a Google Docs file and made little edits every day to phrasing, swapped sentences around, and rewrote it entirely until finally, one night, she pasted it into the message box and pressed send. Then she shut her laptop and didn’t open it back up for days. Gretchen hated rejection. She was sure ipaintdeadflowers would just ignore her message. Or even worse, she thought maybe she would tell Gretchen she was being entitled and that ipaintdeadflowers owed her nothing. Gretchen often found herself thinking of the worst possible outcomes and then mulling over the gruesome possibilities for days on end.

But J had messaged back almost immediately. And she was nothing but kind.

ipaintdeadflowers - hey. it’s actually no problem at all. i would be happy to look at your stuff.

From then on, Gretchen and J talked every single day. They sent each other pictures of their artwork and offered each other gentle, thoughtful critiques as well as genuine and joyful praise. J taught Gretchen different techniques and told her all about the best materials. Gretchen spent her allowance on a Sennelier French Artist’s Watercolor Set, on Kolinsky Sable watercolor brushes, on Strathmore sketch paper, and on every color of Prismacolor markers and colored pencils she could find.

J didn’t just help Gretchen improve artistically. Their late night talks about Yayoi Kusama and Anna Wintour soon turned into conversations about schoolwork, friends, and dreams of moving to New York City to pursue art after graduation. J became Gretchen’s closest friend so quickly that Gretchen didn’t even realize it was happening until she started checking her messages as soon as she woke up every morning and falling asleep at her desk as she waited impatiently for J to reply. J was the only person who got to see Gretchen for who she really was. J was the only person Gretchen even trusted to know her, the real her, and not walk away or ask her to change.

Gretchen hadn’t told J her real name. She didn’t want her parents or anyone at school to find out she’d been messaging a stranger online. And she didn’t want J to figure out who she really was, either. Instead, she’d taken a page out of J’s book and simply gone by ‘G.’ It wasn’t like she ever messaged anyone else on the website, or even publicly posted her art or commented on anyone else’s, but to J, she was G.

Gretchen awoke the next morning to a message from J.After their mutual confessions, she’d avoided her inbox for the rest of the night, just in case J took back her admission in the night. J hadn’t messaged her again the previous night, either, so at least Gretchen hadn’t missed anything. It was the ping of the message arriving in her inbox that woke Gretchen up. She opened her eyes and groaned. It was only 6:00 AM. She’d been planning on sleeping another half hour.

Gretchen sat up, pushing her electric blue comforter off of her legs as she stood up and walked over to her computer, which she hadn’t shut before she’d gone to bed. She ran her finger along the touchpad until she reached the refresh button, which she clicked instantly.

ipaintdeadflowers - okay g. i came to school early and finished your painting. i’ve got something else for you, too. i’m going to leave it at the school for you. i have this secret hiding place. there’s a locker at the end of the hall by the art studio. it’s a tall yellow one, and it’s the only one there. i found out it was empty last year, i’ve been keeping stuff in there ever since. i put a combination lock on it. the code is 7274.

you - Okay, I’ll stop by after school. You won’t be there, right?

ipaintdeadflowers - nope. my best friend wrote this ridiculous one-man play that he’s starring in and it’s playing its one and only performance tonight… so i’m going to go help him set it up as soon as the final bell rings. i’ll message you as soon as it’s over, though.

you - Okay. Well… Can I call you right now?

Gretchen’s parents had undoubtedly already left for work, so she had no problem talking to J. No one would hear them. Regina wouldn’t be by to pick her up for another hour and a half.

ipaintdeadflowers - okay, but it has to be quick. my parents are still sleeping.

you - I just want to hear your voice.

Before Gretchen could even pick up her phone to dial J’s number, it started ringing. Her name in Gretchen’s contacts was the letter J, followed by a wilted flower emoji. It was inconspicuous enough that if J ever texted her, which she hardly ever did, Regina wouldn’t see it and ask questions, but specific enough that Gretchen would always smile when she saw the name pop up on her phone.

She cleared her throat and smoothed over her hair, as if J could see her through the phone, before answering with an overly-cheerful “Hello!”

“Sounds like you slept well last night,” J said through the phone. Her voice was lower than Gretchen’s, but had a nice melodic tone to it. She and J hardly ever spoke on the phone, yet Gretchen could never forget the sound of J’s voice. That voice had talked her down from several panic attacks, and lulled her to sleep on her most restless nights.

“I guess I did. Maybe because I didn’t stay up all night talking to you,” Gretchen said, standing up to go to her closet. She’d already picked today’s outfit the night before, so it was hanging in the front of her closet. She pulled it out, pressing the button to put J on speaker phone, then threw the phone onto the end of her bed as she began to undress, then re-dress. “I did have to sit on a three way call with… Sharon and Georgina for a few hours, though.” Those were the fake names she’d given Karen and Regina. They were two of the most popular girls in school, so she hadn’t dared give their real names, but she admittedly could have been more thoughtful when creating their aliases.

“Well, it’s good to know I make you as sleep-deprived as you make me,” J paused. Gretchen imagined her twirling the telephone cord around her finger. J usually called Gretchen from her landline, which Gretchen didn’t even realize anyone still used. “Do you want to watch a movie tonight?”

“What about your friend’s play?” Gretchen asked. She was now fully dressed, examining her appearance in the mirror for a moment before she pulled her curling iron out of the drawer and plugged it into the outlet to heat up.

“Yeah, I meant after. It’s Friday, right? We could stay up late.” J hesitated again. “We could watch something… romantic. You like that stuff, right?”

“Yeah! I mean, yeah. We’ll have to see what’s on Netflix.” Of course Gretchen and J wouldn’t actually watch the movie together. They would just stream the movie at the same time and message each other any interesting thoughts or reactions. “Maybe tomorrow we could actually meet though, in person. We could go to the mall or the park or… or actually see a movie together instead of just watching it at the same time.”

“I… want to, I just… I have to go, okay? Can we talk about it tonight? I promise we’ll talk. Bye, G.” J immediately hung up the phone, before Gretchen even had the chance to say goodbye in response.

Gretchen sighed, then threw her phone onto her bed in frustration. She wanted to believe that J really liked her back, but it was hard when J continually avoided any opportunity to actually meet Gretchen in person. All Gretchen wanted was to hold J’s hand, cuddle into the crook of her neck, kiss her jaw, her chin, her lips… But maybe she’d never even meet the other girl.

Gretchen lifted a clip and began to section her hair so she could curl it. Because of the length and thickness, it usually took Gretchen an hour or more to style it, and she couldn’t keep Regina waiting for two days in a row. Even though all she really wanted to do was sit down at her computer and read those words over and over again. “You are absolutely ridiculous and I like you so fucking much.” She grinned to herself as she lifted her curling iron in one hand and a chunk of hair in the other, twisting it around the barrel carefully. I like you, I like you, I like you.

Gretchen couldn’t wait for the school day to end.

“Earth to Gretchen,” Regina said, snapping at her friend’s face for the third time in the past minute. “Hello? Are you still in there?”

“What?” Gretchen asked, blinking hard as Regina severed her from her daydream. “Sorry, I spaced out. I have a history test today. I totally think I’m going to fail.” Gretchen began to twirl a piece of hair around her finger, glancing around the cafeteria in search of her mystery chatroom girlfriend.

“Gretchen, we’re in the same history class. We don’t have a test today,” Regina said, looking at Gretchen with eyes so sharp they could kill.

“Right, I meant math. Sorry. See? I’m definitely going to fail.” It was hard for Gretchen to lie to Regina. One lip quiver or too many blinks and Regina would back Gretchen into a corner and hound her until she confessed the real truth. So Gretchen tried her best to remain nonchalant.

“We have a math test today?” Karen asked, wide-eyed. She looked from Gretchen to Regina and back again, then fake coughed into her elbow a few times. “I think I’m coming down with something… I’m going to go to the nurse.” She stood, lifting her red lunch tray, and quickly walked over to discard her uneaten food in a large gray garbage can before placing her tray on top of the pile of dirty ones on top of it. Then without missing a beat, Karen turned and ran out of the cafeteria, shouting for the nurse as she went.

With Karen out of the way, Regina slid over on the pale blue bench to be seated closer to Gretchen, lifting her hand to move her hair off her shoulder. Gretchen ignored her. She was looking at the large Homecoming banner that hung above the exit. It was handmade, with neat gold lettering on stark black paper. HOCO DANCE NEXT FRIDAY - $10 PER TICKET! Gretchen would have loved to take J to the dance. She knew J probably didn’t even like to dance, and Gretchen didn’t like to be gawked at, but going to a homecoming dance was something a normal high school couple would do. And Gretchen so badly wished their relationship could be normal.

“Gretchen!” Regina nearly shouted, and Gretchen immediately turned to look at her. “What’s going on? You keep ignoring me.”

“I’m sorry, Regina,” she said, licking her lips. “I didn’t sleep well last night, that’s all.”

“Okay… I was just saying, Karen and I wanted to go to the movies tonight. You’re coming, right?” she asked.

Before Gretchen could answer, there was a loud eruption of laughter from the art table. That kid Damian was standing on top of it, attempting to do the floss dance while his friends chanted something Gretchen thought she recognized as “Laura Dern.” Regina widened her eyes, then rolled them. She stood, lifting her bag and slinging it over her shoulder.

“I literally cannot be in this vicinity for another second or all their loser is gonna rub off on me.” She kissed her middle and pointer fingers, then waved them at Gretchen. She picked up her tray before she walked away, calling over her shoulder: “See you tonight, biatch. I’ll pick you up at six.”

“Okay,” Gretchen said absentmindedly as Regina walked away. She hadn’t been listening. Instead, she was studying the faces of all the girls seated at the art table, wondering if one of them could be J.

Although it felt like several years had passed within the span of Gretchen’s eight hour day, the final bell finally rang not a second too soon, and Gretchen darted out of her math class without a word to anyone. Her chartreuse Louboutin pumps clicked against the tile floor as she hurried down the hall and around the corner. She’d never been inside the art room before. Regina thought anyone who did art was a freak, so Gretchen would never be caught dead taking any classes. She knew how to get there, though, because she passed it every day on her way to lunch in hopes of somehow bumping into J. Walking by the art room added at least three minutes onto her commute to lunch, but Gretchen didn’t care.

She’d never noticed the locker before. It was nicely hidden. At the end of the long hallway, there was a T. Going left took you to the cafeteria, but going right took you to a dead end, and the yellow locker was nestled into the corner. Gretchen looked around for a second, then kneeled down and twisted the combination to the correct numbers. 7274. She pulled the lock and it clicked open. Gretchen swung the door open and looked inside, smiling. There was a flower inside, a yellow rose, with a small note tied to it. Gretchen opened it. Turns out the florist doesn’t sell these in black. Love, J. Gretchen grinned, feeling her heart flutter as she carefully re-folded the note. Gretchen opened her backpack and slipped the flower and note into it. She would be cautious not to smush the flower, but she couldn’t just walk out of school with it without people asking who it was from.

Gretchen lifted one of the papers that had been underneath the rose. It was a sketch of a girl done all in pencil. Her face wasn’t entirely visible, only a side profile, but she had long brown hair and full lips twisted into a smile. At the bottom, J had written “G - I wanted to draw a picture of you, but I don’t know what you look like. So I drew this instead. Hope you like it. - J.” Gretchen carefully rolled to drawing up and stuffed it into her bag, too. Then, she lifted the final present, the painting J had previewed for her the night before. J must have come into school early to finish it. It was breathtakingly beautiful, with blue-blacks and violets and silvers, all intricately melted together to make a night sky Gretchen only wished she could look up to every night. The painting came without a note, but it didn’t need one.

Gretchen felt her eyes watering slightly. She reached up to wipe them before her mascara could run. Then, she tore a piece of loose-leaf paper out of her binder and began to scribble a silly love note back to J. Once it was finished, she signed her name and set it on the shelf inside the locker. Then she closed it and bent down to spin the lock to random numbers so nobody else could get in and find it but J.

Gretchen rolled to painting up and stuffed it into her bag as well. She hated to risk ruining J’s hard work, but the last thing she needed was for Regina to spot her with it and start asking too many questions. She zipped her backpack up and slid it over her shoulders, walking away with a bigger smile than the one she’d arrived with. She lifted her phone, about to text J a thank you, but thought better of it and returned the device to her pocket. She would wait until she got home and message J instead. For some reason, that just felt right. Gretchen pulled her keys from her pocket and made her way to the exit, smiling and humming to herself all the way to her car. She couldn’t wait to hear from J again later that night. Plus, Gretchen had some planning to do. She wanted to give J an equally heartwarming surprise in return.

Janis wasn’t one for romance. She could count the girls she’d liked in her whole lifetime on one hand. She didn’t like to be vulnerable or feel too close to anyone. So, maybe everything that happened with designingdreams was fate. Janis had spent years on youngartforyoungartists, or yaya, and only received a handful of messages. And she hadn’t replied to a single one. But something about G’s message, about how hopeful and harmless and endearing it was… made Janis want to reply. And more than that, it made Janis want to know G, to really see her in a way she hadn’t cared to see anyone else.

Janis had never been in love before… but she knew what it was supposed to feel like. It was a tingling in your chest, and your fingers, and your toes. It was the good kind of butterflies and sweaty palms, it was staying up all night talking and waking up early to talk some more. Love was so many things, and Janis felt all of them for G, for a girl she’d never even really met.

There were a million reasons why Janis didn’t want to meet G in person, at least not yet. The biggest one was fear. Janis was scared that if G saw her, she wouldn’t like her anymore. Janis was an art freak and a recluse. She didn’t see herself as the kind of girlfriend G would be proud to have. Since she saw no other possible future other than separation, Janis decided to prolong the inevitable. Whenever G suggested they meet, Janis always came up with some excuse, or, in what weren’t exactly her proudest moments, she abruptly left the conversation.

Janis was dying to see G, though. She wanted to know what she looked like, to hear her laugh in person, to see how their hands fit together. But she didn’t want to ruin anything. She didn’t want to lose G. Not when she was quickly becoming the best thing in Janis’s life. Maybe one day the truth would come out. Janis knew that. But it didn’t have to be today.

So, Janis came up with a plan. She wasn’t exactly proud of it. She didn’t like deceiving G. She just wanted to see her, just once. She needed to know what she looked like, who she was. Janis had a fantasy that she would see G, and wouldn’t be able to resist running to pull her into a tight embrace. Once Janis was sure she could trust G; once she was sure G wouldn’t be put off by the way she looked and who she was, she would have no problem meeting her face to face. In fact, Janis couldn’t wait for that moment. She thought about it all the time.

There was a very small, forgotten janitor’s closet kitty-corner from the lone yellow locker where Janis liked to hide some of her most valued possessions at school. Hardly anyone knew it was there, and no one knew the combination to the lock she’d placed on the door - no one but G.

Janis skipped her last period to make sure she was in the closet when G arrived. She hid inside of it with the door cracked only slightly so she could if anyone passed. She didn’t want G to notice her and retreat. Janis quickly grew impatient waiting for her. She kept checking the time on her phone, picking at her nails, messing with old cleaning supplies left behind on the shelves. She heard the final bell ring, but still didn’t move from her hiding spot. Instead, she took a rubber glove from the box and tried and failed to blow it up like a balloon. The opening was too big for her mouth and so Janis couldn’t get it to inflate.

Then, she pulled a marker from her bag, one of the cheap crayola markers she’d used to make campaign posters for Damian when he’d run for junior co-chair of the student activities committee, and began to write on the wall. She drew an alien emoji, then a wilted rose, then she wrote “I WAS HERE AND IT SUCKED!!!!” in all caps. Just when she was about to give up and go home, she heard heels clicking against the floor. Janis’s heart stopped.

She straightened up and slowed her breathing the best she could, cracking the door open just a little more. First, she saw G’s feet, which were small and perfect. Then her legs, which, same. G was wearing a blue skirt and a green shirt with half-sleeves and a boat neckline. Finally, Janis’s eyes made their way up to her head. G had a large mess of warm brown hair, with the sheer height and volume Janis knew could only belong to one girl in school. She felt her heart in her throat now, thudding so loud she didn’t know how Gretchen couldn’t hear it.

No, no, no, thought Janis. It can’t be her. Maybe Gretchen was just lost. There was no way she was G. Until she actually opened the locker, there was no proof she was actually - Janis nearly gasped. Gretchen bent down and began to turn the lock. Within seconds, she had it open, and she was digging through the things Janis had left for G.

Was this some sort of prank? Had Regina used Gretchen to catfish her? Janis felt sick thinking of Regina reading all the messages she’d sent to G and laughing about them. She looked at Gretchen. The other girl wasn’t laughing. She was stuffing everything into her backpack, sure, but not without reading each note thoughtfully; not without regarding each gift with care and grinning to herself as she examined the items left for her. Janis even thought she saw Gretchen wipe a tear. Then, the girl took some paper from her bag and started to write, leaving the note on the shelf and locking the door before she left.

Janis’s breath hitched in her throat as she saw Gretchen lift her phone. If she decided to text Janis, the notification bell would give her away instantly. She fumbled inside her pocket, quickly flipping the switch to silent, but luckily Gretchen seemed to have decided against texting anyone. As soon as Gretchen’s humming died away, Janis peeked out the door to make sure she was out of sight. Once she was sure it was all clear, she hurried over to the locker and opened the lock. She lifted the note, closing the door as soon as she got a hold of it, and her eyes scanned it so fast her brain nearly had a hard time catching up.

I wish I could write poems. If I could write poems, I would write you a really nice one. It would be about roses, and night skies, and dreams so sweet you sleep just to return to them. I would tell you that your smile is the most beautiful thing I’ve never seen, and that your voice is my favorite song. But since I can’t write poetry, I’ll just say this: you are absolutely ridiculous, in the best way. And I like you so fucking much.

Love, love, love,

Janis sucked in a breath, reading the note again and again. It wasn’t a note from someone playing an awful trick on her. It couldn’t be. Gretchen actually cared. Janis folded the note up until it was only an inch long. She stuffed it into her pocket and ran her fingers through her overgrown blonde hair, tugging at it as she reached the ends. Janis thought seeing G - Gretchen - would change everything… and she was right. But where Janis thought it would make their relationship easier, it had only gotten a thousand times more complicated.

Janis pulled the note back out of her pocket, unfolding it so she could reach it one more time. She hadn’t noticed how weak in the knees she felt as her eyes scanned each and every letter. Butterflies fluttered in her chest, and her cheeks burned bright red. Janis clutched the note to her chest and began walking in the direction of the parking lot where she was supposed to meet Damian. Love, love, love. That’s what Gretchen had written. But could she really still love Janis when she realized who she really was? Janis couldn’t meet Gretchen, not now. She would need to think of another excuse tonight, when she talked to Gretchen again. She’d promised the other girl they could finally discuss meeting, and she knew Gretchen wouldn’t be satisfied with Janis brushing it off again this time. All she wanted was to hold onto G for a little bit longer. Janis would do anything if it meant not losing the person she loved.

#mean girls #mean girls the musical #mean girls musical #janis sarkisian #gretchen wieners #there are definitely typos because i hate reading my own writing so i suck at proofreading #and idk if anyone else ships this #i will post the links later once i actually publish this on some fanfiction sites!!!

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omgelliemblog · 5 years

Text

Saturday Nights

A Mileven One-shot

The night was dark, the road before him lit dimly by lamp posts lined across the sidewalks and by the few cars passing by the nearly abandoned road.

Micheal Wheeler sat in the driver's seat, lightly tapping the steering wheel to the softly playing music.

He glanced occasionally at his cell phone which rested in the cup holder by his right arm; no new texts from her yet. The last response he received was about ten minutes ago when he had messaged her about coming to pick her up. Mike felt silly for missing her, it had been ten minutes and before those ten minutes, they were face timing until El practically forced him to stop the conversation because she had to get ready.

Saturday night hang out was a grand tradition for the two long-time friends. Every Saturday at eight-thirty, Mike would drive to El’s house and they’d go out to do whatever it is they wanted. The next day they would have countless stories to tell their friends about the events of the night before; the laughter the two close friends shared. Today they would embark on a new adventure. Mike sped through the lonely road, eager to see his best friend once again.

Minutes later, he arrived at her house. Parking his sleek wine-colored jeep smoothly in El’s driveway. The house was a small one-story home, painted a shade of forest green. Lights shown in every window and lights showered the wooden front porch where El sat waiting. Her legs dangled off the side of the porch as she sat, her hands cupping her face. She smiled brightly when the familiar Jeep pulled into her driveway; That Jeep held so many fond memories, the leather seats imprinted by their familiar bodies and the walls of the car filled with the ghost of their laughter. El stood up from where she sat, pulling her bag over her shoulder as she made her way to the passenger side of Mike’s car.

“Hey,” El smiled, taking a seat and buckling in her seatbelt. It was the simplest, most innocent smile, causing Mike’s heart to flutter within his chest.

“Hey,” Mike returned, “Ready to go?” he asked, waving at her dad, Hopper who stood at the window watching them through the blinds. He’s always been the overly protective kind.

“Yup, where to this time?” El questioned, her bright curious eyes peering over at Mike.

“Not sure, but I was thinking for now at least, we can just drive, listen to loud music and just enjoy each other’s company?” Mike suggested.

“Sounds perfect,” El smiled gently, fully aware that no matter what they’d do, she’d always have the best time because he was by her side. Mike nodded, pulling out of the driveway and making his way to one of the main roads. He signaled that El could have full control over the music this time and El pulled out her phone, finger flicking at the screen as she pondered what song to play first. Mike rolled down the windows to allow fresh air to engulf the enclosed space. The warm mid-summer air blew through El’s short brown hair, caressing her curls; she pushed the hair that covered her face behind her ear as she chose her first song. Saturday Nights by Khalid. El smiled, pleased by her decision as she laid back on her leather seat, facing the window to allow the air to tickle her skin. Mike kept stealing glances at her, always entranced by her natural beauty. He knew that his eyes should have been glued to the road ahead but he couldn’t help himself. Passing lights lit her dewy skin, the wind causing her hair to blow behind her.

“El?” Mike asked and she turned to look at him. He was surprised she even heard him over the loud music playing throughout the car.

“Yeah?” She asked.

“I’m just…. Really happy that you are here with me tonight,” Mike responded and her eyes seemingly flickered with a certain emotion the teenage boy couldn’t quite pinpoint. The girl sighed, her eyes dropping to the center console where Mike’s right hand laid at rest.

“There’s no place I’d rather be,” El responded truthfully.

“You really mean that?” He asked, causing her to meet his gaze.

“Of course I mean that you’re like my favorite person in the entire world,” She answered matter of factly; Grabbing the boy’s hand and squeezing gently. Her hand left his just as quickly as they had made contact and Mike couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed that the moment didn’t last very long.

“Well that’s good to know since you know, you’re my favorite person in the world too,” he smiled, turning the dial to lower the music.

“I better be, or else I’d have to be on the lookout for a new best friend,” she teased.

“Ouch,” Mike feigned hurt and disbelief, holding a hand against his heart.

“I deserve nothing less than pure adoration and attention,” El added.

“Can’t exactly argue with that,” Mike smiled.

Making a left turn, Mike noticed a small restaurant, the neon sign shining brightly in the darkness. “Want a milkshake?” he asked.

“Sure,” El responded and Mike turned into the parking lot.

“Should we go inside or go through the drive-through?” Mike asked, always attentive and wanting to know what it is El wanted.

“Hmmm, drive through?” she responded, questioningly. Mike quickly made his way to the drive-through line, waiting for his turn to order and when his time was up, Mike craned his neck out the window, taking a second look at the menu.

“Can I please get, two strawberry milkshakes and an order of large fries?” he ordered.

“Of course, would that be all for you tonight?” A female voice asked.

“Yup,” Mike responded before he was told the price and he began to pull up.

“You know, a true gentleman would have asked me what I wanted,” El added in a teasing tone.

“Why would I ask when I already knew what you would want?”

“What if I wanted something new?” El asked and Mike scoffed.

“Suuurrree, I know you, and my El is one of the pickiest human beings on this planet who orders the same thing every single time at every single place because you know what you like,” Mike announced.

“My El?” She repeated with a raised eyebrow. Mike looked over at her with his lips slightly parted, panicked eyes and quickly pinkening cheeks.

“I.. uhhh, Ummm, I,” A flustered Mike stuttered but was quickly saved by the person in front of him driving off, meaning it was his turn at the last window. Mike paid and handed El her milkshake, placing the fries in the middle for them to share.

“Let’s park somewhere?” He asked and El nodded. Mike found his way to a nice reserved area nearby where there weren't many cars and not many sounds to be heard. They sipped on their milkshakes, picking at the fries in the center console as they chatted amongst themselves.

“Okay… If you could choose one color to wear for the rest of your life what would it be?” Mike asked El.

“Like every single article of clothing I wear has to be that color or I just have to wear at least one article of clothing with that color for the rest of my life?” She questioned.

“At least one article,” Mike told her, dipping a fry in his milkshake.

“Probably yellow then,”

“Yellow?” Mike asked.

“Yeah,” El said simply.

“Any particular reason why the color yellow?” he probed. It’s not at all because that was the color Mike was wearing when they first met. That’s absolutely not the reason, El thought. She shrugged, dismissing the question with the wave of her hand before taking off the cap of the milkshake to lick the whipped cream off the top. She turned to look at Mike with whipped cream now on the top of her lips. He laughed at her.

“What?” El asked, popping the Cherry she was now eating out of her mouth. His eyes lingered there for longer than they should have before he shook it off.

“You have whipped cream on top of your umm lips,” he smiled, already pulling out some napkins.

“Oh,” El said and she didn’t really have time to react before Mike gently pressed the napkin to her skin, wiping the cream away. Their gaze lingered on each other for a while.

“There,” Mike told her, his gaze unwavering.

“You rubbed off all my lipstick but thanks,” El responded with a gulp.

“You don’t need it,” Mike said simply, his hand instinctively brushing back the hair from her face. Is that eluding to something or am I just overthinking things? El thought to herself. El’s heart was starting to race, leading to her removing her gaze from his to keep herself from going into cardiac arrest.

“I could have licked it off myself you know, plus, I bet I looked super cute with that whipped cream mustache,” El continued playfully, pulling out her lipstick and mirror from her purse and reapplying it. She pressed her lips together and they parted with a loud pop sound. Mike felt like such a creep because of how intently he watched her but it was as if he had no control over himself.

“Maybe I need a cold-ass cup of water,” Mike mumbled to no one in particular as he rubbed at his eyes.

“Huh?” El asked.

“Nothing, it’s just getting kind of hot in here,” Mike said, turning on the car, closing all the windows and turning on the cool airconditioning. Suddenly Mike felt like he didn’t even want to be in the front seat anymore, so like a frog, he leaped to the back seat.

“What are you doing?” El asked.

“Getting comfortable, there’s more room back here,” Mike told her. “You can join me if you want,” Mike told her, sitting up on the back seat.

“Fine, since you ditched me up here,” she told him, making her way to the back. Once settled in, she laid back on the seat portion of it and propped her feet up on Mike’s lap; Scooting a bit to drape her legs a bit more over his. She gazed up at his amused face as he still sat upright.

“What? Am I your footstool now?” Mike asked.

“You should feel honored, I wouldn’t prop my feet up on just anyone’s lap,” She told him.

“Is that so?”

“Of course, you’re special Mikey, the most royal of footstools,” El teased with a playful grin. “This simply means I’m comfortable with you,” she continued.

“Uh Huh… So I’m like those royal puppies that lay by royalties feet all the time?”

“Of course not, puppies are too precious to be associated with you” she teased. “If anything you’re a freshly bathed Chihuahua, moody and running around like a psychopath,” El continued, barely able to finish her sentence without laughing.

“Oh, you’re gonna regret that,” Mike said squinting at her.

“Am I?”

“I know everything about you, El Hopper, and that also means I know all your weaknesses,” Mike told her matter of factly before diving in without warning, his hands tickling at her waist vigorously. She wore a cropped yellow top made of thin knitted fabric and low rise jeans so he immediately made contact with her skin. She laughed loudly and uncontrollably, her hands trying to smack his off.

“MIKE, STOP,” El yelled, still laughing.

“STOP!” She squealed sitting up. With El now sitting up, they both became increasingly aware of how close they were to each other; Her legs were still draped across Mike’s lap, so now upright, it was as if she was sitting on his lap. El wrapped her arms around his neck, the brightest of smiles still gracing her lips.

“I meant that as a compliment,” El whispered once she got ahold of her laughter.

“Yeah?” Mike asked, breathing heavily. She was so close to him that he felt he couldn’t breathe.

“Chihuahua's are cute, dorky but cute,” El continued, her hands playing with his black curls at the nape of his neck.

“So… You’re saying I’m cute?” He asked.

“More like the dorkiest of dorks,” she giggled. “But the cutest of all the dorks, I guess,” she smiled, her fingers still running through his hair.

“God, you’re beautiful,” Mike whispered in the softest of voices. He never meant to say it out loud but it came out of his mouth like a rushing wave and he couldn’t keep up with the current. Mike reached out his hand, caressing her cheek and twirling a strand of her hair with his finger. El just looked at him, as if captivated by everything he was and is. They didn’t even notice that they had been inching closer together like magnets. That was until their lips met, he kissed her with everything he had, moving his lips sensually against hers. El whimpered as if this was something she had waited for ages for. She dug her fingers in his hair and kissed him with every ounce of passion she had within her petite frame. They had been yearning for each other for months now and their moment had finally come. Their hearts beat quickly but as one, chests pressed against each other as they kissed passionately. It was a while before they parted, gazing into each other's eyes with such intensity.

“Hi,” Mike squeaked awkwardly. El laughed a breathy laugh.

“Hi,” she responded.

“So that happened..” Mike continued.

“That it did.” El nodded.

“I liked it like really liked it,” Mike ranted on.

“So did I,” She giggled.

“Can I do that again? Or was that like a one-time thing? If it was that’s okay, not like I have been in love with you for the longest time, pppssshh, no. You’re like really cute though and I love the way you laugh…,” Mike ranted, El just placed her finger on his lips to keep him from talking.

“Mike… Breathe,” El told him and Mike took a deep breath.

“Good, feel better now?” She asked and he simply nodded.

“Now to answer your questions, yes you can do that again, no this isn’t a one-time thing, and….Mike, I love you, too,” El told the bewildered boy.

“Really?” He asked.

“Yeah,” El said softly.

“I’m going to do that again,” Mike announced and she laughed.

“Go ahead,” El told him and they kissed once again.

#stranger things #mileven #oneshot #fanfic #au

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winchester-reload · 7 years

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Pairing: Dean/Cas Length: 2.5k Tags: Fluff, Mild Angst, Pining, First Kiss, Canon Divergent Read on AO3

A special thank you to @braezenkitty for being my awesome beta <3

“You just gotta get laid,” Dean said, reseating the burger beside the pile of fries on his plate, this time with a big bite missing. “Or a decent kiss, at least.”

He crumbled a napkin between greasy fingers, tossed it to the middle of the table. Shoved his shirtsleeves up one more time as he tucked his black fed tie under the table ledge and away from the plate. “It’d loosen you up, buddy. And maybe you’d quit tryna live vicariously through horny eighteen-year-olds.”

This was because of the door-to-door canvas. The couple at the park who’d been all over each other, that Castiel hadn’t been able to stop looking at—even after the old, blue-haired lady at 512 Bakersfield Court had made a comment. “Your partner likes to stare…” like she’d never in her seventy-five years of life seen someone curious about such a thing.

“If only that was the first time I heard it, too,” Dean’d smiled back from her stoop, the sharp sun cooking them both in the stuffy Tennessee heat. A marked jab to Cas’ ribs, and a walk to the nearest pub later, and Dean was bringing it up again, because, of course he was. Why talk about the case?

“I only glanced at the couple in the park,” Cas sighed. “It’s not a recurring issue. It doesn’t mean anything.”

Dean laughed, lipped his beer bottle, and took a stout drink. “Sure,” he said. “Glanced at them. Glanced at those girls holding hands last week—though, I’ll give ya that one. I gave ‘em a couple once-overs too.”

“Dean—”

“Point is, it ain’t the first time, and you’re a damn liar.”

Cas rolled his eyes. “My being, or not being with people has nothing to do with anything—”

“Has everything to do with everything when you’re touch-starved.”

“I’m not starved. I’ve been… touched.”

Dean scoffed, swirled his beer bottle. “Sure, if you wanna count Reaper-Fools-Day.”

“I’ve kissed more people than April,” Cas bristled back. “How about we talk about what you know of touch starved instead?”

Dean snapped shut, cocked his head as a follow-up comment seemed to slip from his mouth quick. He replaced the words with a couple fries and averted eyes. “Fine,” he relented around the bite. “And?”

“And… What?”

He looked back up, eyebrows jumping. “Were they any good?”

“Who? The people?”

“The kissing, idiot. Was the kissing any good?”

Cas’ heart flopped. He slipped a hand down his beer bottle, and then back up again nervously. The motion pulled Dean’s attention in a glance, so Cas tucked the rogue thing back onto his lap instead. Fingers lacing together under the shelter of the slick waxed top where no one could see. “I don’t know. Yes?” he offered carefully.

“Are you tellin’ me, or askin’ me right now?”

“No—I mean… ” Cas cleared his throat, shifted in his chair, and listened to the wood slats groan. “They were fine. They were… wet.”

“Wet?” Dean repeated. “Cas, wet is how you describe a swimming pool… Oregon in the winter, maybe… Not a kiss. Never a good kiss.”

“Then how should I describe it?”

“No, I mean… if they were wet, then they were wet—”

“No, please. You tell me.”

Dean’s face suddenly fell wide in mock innocence. “What? You want me to describe a good kiss to you right now? In the middle of a restaurant.”

“If wet is insufficient—”

“Oh, yeah. It’s like, miles of not-sufficient-ness, dude.”

Cas chewed a smile down and gestured Dean’s way. Crossed his arms, and sat back. He watched Dean waffle before finally sliding back in his chair to think. He splayed wide, elbows up on the armrests and knees hugging the corners. His face caught the dim overhead lights, and the sun-kissed healthy pink of his skin shone back like warm earth.

He had white in the creases beside his eyes where his smile lines had shaded him from the harsh afternoon sun. A little cut of tan at the bridge of his nose where his sunglasses sat after he’d gotten sick of squinting through the reflections of every bright midday door.

“Okay, it’s like this,” he said finally, tapping an erratic finger on the neck of his bottle, and pausing to worry his lip. “A kiss is a kiss is a kiss, til it ain’t. If you’re with the right person, then the tension between you’s gonna be thick enough to cut. It’s gonna feel like you’ve got a firecracker in your gut, and that other person’s just flicking the Bic. The minute the two of you kiss, the fuse lights. That bastard explosive rips up through your chest, and pops behind your eyes, and I’m talking—screw seeing colors at that point—you’ll be so wrecked, you’ll know what they sound like.”

Castiel smiled as Dean came back in with a languid look, and a tongue tip between his teeth. He peeled forward, hovering over the table, so much closer than before, that there was only the dragging smell of his burger all tangled up in his woody cologne for Cas to breathe.

“That’s a good kiss,” he said slowly, and maybe it was Castiel’s imagination, but the sun kiss on Dean’s cheeks had spread to his ears now. “Sounds good, don’t it?”

“It sounds very good,” Castiel agreed. “Very surreal.”

Dean let a long, animated sigh into the room and it mixed happy with the gentle murmur of the busy forks and glasses around them. “Oh, it’s very real,” he said. “Just not very common.”

He poked absently at the pile of cooling fries, and sucked the salt from the end of his finger. The gorgeous smacking sound it made curled red ribbons in Cas’ stomach. “Still, you find someone who’ll give you that, and it’s the kinda thing that’ll right some wrongs. Know what I mean?”

Cas took a long drink, smile falling as the carbonation from his beer prickled reality back into his tongue. “Sure,” he said quietly. “I’ll have to take your word for it.”

Dean’s mouth thinned, and his eyes ping-ponged away uneasy. He tailed and tacked down the waitress, kept locked on her as she floated behind the counter poking something into the mounted LED screen beside the register. “Doesn’t that rub you, though?” he asked, “not knowing for yourself. Don’t you… want that with somebody?”

Cas puffed surprised, and his mouth went dry. Try as he might, the beer wouldn’t wet it. “I mean, yes…” he said earnestly, and the admission ate holes in his stomach.

“Then… how come you ignore all the waitresses I send your way? You’re never gonna get it if you don’t even try.”

Cas was suddenly, and shamefully aware of his attention at Dean’s lips, and when Dean snagged a glance at him, Cas tore his eyes away, shoved them onto the table instead. Focused everything he had on the bleed of condensation below the cool, brown bottle to his left.

“Those people wouldn’t change anything,” he said to the ring. “Colors were never meant to make sounds for some.”

Dean fidgeted the fries again, finally pushed them aside, and brushed the salt off his hand this time instead of eating it. “I guess we better head out,” he said, flagging the waitress. “Sam’s waiting.”

They paid, and headed back out into the melty summer heat. It was sunset, but the air was still laying in the city thick as a wool blanket. Shadows stretched through the streets like plastic-capped Halloween fingers, crowding up in the alleyways and turns, painting the dingy brick walls black.

Cas flared his coat to check his back pocket for his wallet as they passed a couple people with hungry eyes, but just as quickly remembered that he’d dropped his last twenty for the meal, and let the impulse to feed them drift out. Still, he welcomed the brief breeze it gave him, and he wondered if maybe it was getting time to rethink the coat. Grace or not, he seemed to be touchier to the temperatures these days, and it was starting to seem like wardrobe was becoming more important—practically speaking.

Dean shed his own suit coat as if he’d just read Castiel’s mind, and slung it over his shoulder with a hooked finger. His shirtsleeves were still shoved up to his elbows under the blazer, as if he’d put it on after dinner, distracted. “Nothing fancy,” he murmured to his feet.

“Pardon?”

“Hmm—?” He looked over quick, eyes wide, before blinking them back down. “What?”

“I just didn’t catch what you said.”

Dean shook his head. “I didn’t—” But when Cas frowned, opened his mouth to contest, Dean relented. “Oh, you mean the, uh, thing I said out loud…” He cleared his throat, added “apparently” under his breath, and slowed down for some oncoming foot traffic.

“I was just thinking about the, uh, Nichols’ story,” he said, temporarily falling in line behind Cas as a group of people passed. He touched the small of Cas’ back out of nowhere, and kept his hand there. Cas’ chest snagged. “The alibi Brent was peddling didn’t feel right.” His voice was soft in Cas’ ear, almost breathy—but brief, and when he pulled up beside Cas again, sidewalk clear, Cas grabbed a shaky glance, but Dean wasn’t watching.

“You, uh, think they have something to do with the black magic we’re seeing?” Cas asked, and his voice managed to pour out level, despite his stomach coming off that quick rollercoaster dip.

“I mean, the house was a little much for a twenty-hour a week gas-slinging gig at the local area Gas n’ Sip, don’t you think?”

It was the most they’d talked about the case all day.

“Fancy,” Cas reiterated, then, “I certainly never would’ve been able to afford that place when I worked there.” For some reason, the comment pulled Dean tight at the joints. “But I couldn’t even afford hourly motels.”

“Well… the hourlies charge more.”

Cas frowned again, started to ask why when Dean squirmed past it. “But, you’re right,” he said. “Doesn’t add up no matter how you flip the numbers.”

“So, do you suspect they’re the source of the black magic, or victims of it?”

They hopped down the curb, checking the way for traffic, and ended up on the grassy side of Spring Street, just down from their motel. Dean popped a piece of gum in his mouth, balled the wrapper, and stuck it back in his pocket instead of tossing it away.

“I suspect there’s something screwy going on,” he said, “and that’s as far as I’ve got.”

He plucked the gum from his mouth a moment later, and flicked it to the bushes, ran a hand down his face. “Sam’s doing backgrounds as we speak. Here’s hoping there’s a smoking gun in there somewhere. But, ‘til we get that, we’re pulling straws.”

The streetlamps kicked on, buzzing like fireflies in the thick night, the light falling on the street in goldweave strings as they hustled past a defunct sporting goods store—hollow bones brick and mortar now. No one missing what used to be inside.

Dean scanned the streets, watched another few strings of dusk foot traffic pass on the left while he chewed his cheeks.

“Did Sam find anything at the morgue?” Cas pressed, because the silence seemed oddly unnerving.

“No—I mean, uh, I don’t know. Haven’t talked to him.”

“I thought we were meeting him.”

Dean’s attention caught up in a little alcove at the end of the street and he gripped his jacket tighter, tucked his chin and let a heavy breath out. “We are,” he said quietly.

“Not at the morgue?”

“Um, no, he’s at the motel,” Dean said, and he sounded nervous. “Waiting to take us.”

“Maybe we’ll get lucky and we’ll find a hex bag, or—”

Dean suddenly shoved Cas’ sideways, off the street and into the alcove, shadows tangling up in the corners of it, all those long witch fingers bleeding to flat black. Castiel grunted, surprised. “What’re you—” and his throat went dry as Dean pushed him into the stuccoed brick backside of a closed Chinese restaurant, hands curling up on both sides of Cas’ jaw, but fingers combing a soft arc “—doing?”

“Nothin’, if you don’t want me to,” Dean whispered, conviction skippy at best. His body was hot against Cas. Heavy and hard. Nothing like April’s… Meg’s… Hannah’s…

The question—and it was a question—coiled in Cas’ belly like a fever dream, but an answer never had a chance of bubbling back out. Because a response would’ve been moot before it ever left his lips. Castiel’s pause was too long to be a no, and his fingers had already found their way to Dean’s waist. They were making note of the way his blue button down clung to his sides, like the tee underneath had been soaking in all that sudden, nervous heat since before they’d ever even left the bar.

And so, Dean brushed their lips together, not a hesitation so much as dipping a toe, and a rush of butterflies went right to Cas’ head without mercy. Cas whimpered without meaning to, and Dean landed the meat of the kiss, hands falling down Cas’ neck and dragging that unruly sensation through. His lips were soft and his cheeks, five o’clock gritty. He worked Cas’ mouth open with a roll of his jaw, and a flirty burst of mint graced Cas with the pass of Dean’s tongue.

Castiel melted into it, fingers curling around the back of Dean’s head as he tried desperately to get a handhold on something. Their hips rolled together. Cas stole himself a handful of Dean’s ass. Felt Dean hard against him as he moved against Cas’ thigh.

Dean’s breath went rocky, like he was fighting some kind of tightrope walk of heavy and thin, and the sound he made was dirty enough to sin. Castiel nosed him, combed fingers through his hair as Dean pulled back. His eyes fell hot on Cas’ mouth. The shadows ate the flush from his face, but not the burning heat of it.

“Now tell me again,” he whispered, voice licking at Cas ear and coming out like gravy. “Tell me again what a kiss feels like.”

Castiel huffed, tried to catch his running brain. He couldn’t help himself, hands still at Dean’s waist, he held him there. The both of them were hard, and neither of them were in a hurry to do anything about it. “I would say… green makes a helluva sound,” he whispered back.

He watched a wicked smile crawl through Dean’s face. “There it is,” Dean hummed, dragging a chill with his thumb from the skin he’d bared at Cas’ side, and chasing it to Cas’ neck with a soft breath, a kiss. “An’ I’m just getting started too.”

Then, he pulled away, the absence of his sticky heat leaving Cas bare. The gravel chewed under Dean’s heels as he headed for the street, pausing only to stoop for the jacket he’d shed at some point on the way. He shook it off, straightened his tie. “Let’s go! We’re late!”

Castiel swallowed, hand to his stomach, and peeled himself from the brick.

#destiel #destiel art #destiel fanfic #destiel fanart #my fic #my art #canon divergent #season 12 #first kiss #flirting #pining #mild angst #kinda like me when i was drawing this: mild angst #please bear with me while I totally eff around in photoshop experimenting #sketchy sketchy

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ethreesixty · 4 years

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How to engage your kids with activities in lockdown?

We are into a period of forced social distancing with a temporary suspension of school and working from home to fight the spread of Covidn19. One of the main challenges now is finding enriching activities for our kids. That doesn't involve a travel or physical interaction with other kids. Keeping them entertained can be a challenge. I'm going to share with you some meaningful ways to engage your child at home. For that will go over some broad categories that should be included in your child's schedule every single day. Here are some kids activities suggestions.

Number 1 Physical Activity: I would say that this is one of the most important things to include. Active playtime is essential for a number of reasons. It's important for physical development it helps regulate sleep patterns and also helps with maintaining attention and focus. A few ideas are dance parties or pillow fights with the family. Making obstacle courses from furniture and household objects. Hide and seek planning a scavenger hunt around the house animal yoga and animal walks. Building a fort or a tent, skipping rope and playing hopscotch and twister. Number 2 Screen Time:

I am sure it's very difficult to limit screen time especially since children see us adults constantly typing on our laptops. Watching Netflix or whatsapping away on our phones. So rather than banning screens, try and make screen time productive. I like to think that there are two different types of screen time. There is passive screen time which involves watching TV or videos mindlessly. For example, this is when your child is glued to the screen and they don't blink and their eyes almost look glazed over. However, on the other hand, there is active screen time this is when the child is engaged and participating. Active screen time can be a great tool and should be allowed with supervision and in limited doses. Some examples of activities that you can incorporate into your child's routine are using the web to research and look up something that they are curious about. Finding them fun dance and exercise videos that they can copy playing interactive thinking games that promote learning and problem-solving. Or stay in touch with friends and family over video calls.

Number 3 Learning time: For children that do not have an online school, it is important to spend some part of the day doing what we would call academic activities. Depending on your child's age this could be completing worksheets, practicing reading, writing math or playing games related to words and numbers. These help your child stay on track and provide a continued education regardless of formal schooling or not. Number 4 Free play: This is an unstructured place where your child is free to choose any game toy or activity that they wish. This allows them to explore unwind and learn to be by themselves. Some examples of activities could be blocks buzzers, reading, coloring drawing or pretend play. This is generally unsupervised time so make sure that the options that are available to them are safe. Number 5 Arts and Crafts:

This is my favorite category these are activities that work on a great number of skills. They work on fine motor skills which is basically using the small muscles in your fingers to complete activities. They work on hand and eye coordination and organization and planning. There are lots of easy activities you can do with things. You already have at home such as painting with brushes cotton balls earbuds and even your fingers cutting activities to create different shapes. Like snowflakes and origami molding or clay. Making collages from all newspapers and magazines and scrapbooking about themselves and the family. Number 6 Family time:

Since we're all in the house together why not use this opportunity to spend quality time with the family. Some activities include playing board games or playing card games together. Cooking or baking activities interviewing different members of the family to learn more about them. Or journaling together to talk about your child's thoughts and feelings during this difficult time. Number 7 E-learning platforms: Digital learning platforms ensure that learning never stops. All we need is an internet connection and a laptop or a tablet. Several educational technology providers like Byju’s learning app, LMS. Digiskills and little learning are at present providing all their online courses free of cost. Most of these platforms have a tracker system to monitor the progress of tips and children can read and immerse themselves in a variety of subjects. From science mathematics.

Number 8 Books and magazines: If the present digital era it is important to ensure children unplug their technology and spend time with books. It helps to develop learning capabilities and also speech development and social interaction. As a parent, you can spend some time together reading poetry, etc. with your kids whenever you take a break from your work. To help children maintain social distancing many other sites like Amazon and some other sites are offering free eBooks. Number 8 Fun and Games: Schools placing lots of emphasis and curriculum and academics creativity and logical thinking are often pushed down. Bored and puzzle-based games like which we were used to play during our childhoods carom board, snake and ladder, luddo can keep their brain cells active. There are new games that can engage children, for example, connect the dots which makes it imperative for children to put on their thinking caps. Other such games include memory games jigsaw puzzles etc. Number 10 Do more with YouTube:

Earlier the only source of screen time for children was a television but now the internet brings them numerous YouTube channels with interactive visuals and content. Their many channels which focuses on museum adventures and history takes the children through science and art events. National Geographic kids upload wonderful videos on animal interactions. Fun, science experiments and kid-friendly travel locations. A crash course, on the other hand, is another channel that covers general introductions and explains the concepts in history science and ethics. Gardening and house cleaning projects:

Encourage kids to water the plants look after the kitchen garden and plants. This will enable them to get some sunshine and fresh air and they'll be able to play outside. Let them play for a short period of time outside of their own. And don't forget to ask them to indulge in the joy of bird-watching. Ask them to keep their play area clean arrange their own books to make their bed and all. Which will make them more responsible during with holidays. Conclusion: This is the parent’s responsibility to make them engage and they should feel that they are not missing anything. Doing all these kids activities things you can keep them happy and engaged. Don't lose your heart that you are stuck at home there is so much you can do and even your kids can do. Read the full article

#Busy #Dance #Engage #FamilyTime #Fun #Games #Kids #KidsActivities #Learning

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weracetogether · 7 years

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Frogman 2017- An Advernture of a Different Kind http://ift.tt/2m0onRo Coming into my second year having the opportunity to participate in the Tampa Bay Frogman Swim my excitement level was off the chart, flowed by my nerves in a close second. I guess that's why it took me these past 42 days to write this blog report.

To me Frogman is bigger than those of us who venture into the water. It is bigger than those who kayak beside us. It is bigger than the event. Frogman is about a community supporting a cause greater than us as individuals. It is a moment in time to say thank you for a sacrifice which is greater than many of us will ever know.

It year was unlike last year, starting with training. I spent a lot of time this year swimming open water in not so great conditions- cold, waves, wind, and currents. I was thankful for "warm" pool swims during the week. During my morning commutes, which took me over the bridges the waters were flat, but come the weekend training days the waters would get angry and thrash about. I could have been mad but I just crossed my fingers and hoped that rough days training would equal a smooth event day. This year in training Patrick swam with me often. He braved the cold and being slammed in the face by waves to be there next to me. When the day came when the water dropped below 60 degrees, hovering around 57 degrees, Patrick began to be my swim safety and support form the shore. He would walk back a forth, pacing the beach at my swim stroke, chatting with tourist who would ask why anyone was swimming, and warning kite surfers to not run me over. With the summer and fall focus on swimming due to the Alligator Lighthouse swim, I was feeling strong in my swimming abilities. I knew this distance would not kill me and I figured it could not be much worse than being sick for seven miles of swimming.

Christmas Day Swim

As the days got closer the weather predictions came into view and they painted a different story than the year before. This year we were looking at clear skies, warmer waters, slight winds. Could this be true? After the 2016 Year of the Twister, I was skeptical of any weather report. I think the event safety manager as as well, since the weather reports emails started earlier, each one reading like it should have ended with multiple smiling faces.

Matthew Kantor

A week out from the race brought the swimmers closer to their purpose for going in the water, we received the names of those we were swimming for on that day. I would be swimming for Matthew Kantor. Petty Officer 2nd Class SEAL, Matthew Kantor was killed during a gun fight in Zabul Province in November 2012. Petty Officer Kantor moved without hesitation to protect his teammates and mission, this action saved the lives of his team members. This deployment was Petty Officer Kantor's first as a SEAL. All reports noted "without hesitation". Petty Officer Kantor's actions effectively saved the lives of those he was serving along side and he did so without question or hesitation. Like I said earlier this is bigger than we are as individuals. Race weekend came quickly after the holiday season. A few days before the swim we took the day to go biking, it was sunny, a light breeze, and warm- perfect. The day before was spent checking on the kayak rental and meeting up for a practice swim. This year's practice swim had more people out than we had seen the prior year. We listened to the safety and swim briefings. Then we headed to the water, wetsuits on (well, not Patrick- he is tough). My dad would have his first experience kayaking with swimmers. During the practice he learned what I could see and hear. He learned to yell louder. I learned to spot my stroke. And he learned to avoid the other swimmers. We swam around for a bit, just having fun. After loading up we headed for Korean food, best preevent meal!

On Frogman morning, it was beautiful. In the dark, spotlights lit our way. On the big screen images of SEALs in combat, children giving the pledge of allegiance, SEALs coming home, and the message of why we were all there in the sand watching the sun rise. In front of the big screen sat the photos and stories of SEALs who we represented with bibs and lanyards and heart. Each person you past said good morning and smiled. The volunteers checked in swimmers and kayakers, they lined us up, they helped haul equipment, and then they raised the flags at the shoreline. This moment took my breath away, to see the American and service flags there in the breeze at the shoreline. This moment would be the first of many on this morning when my heart would stand still.

Brian Bill

Patrick aligned his kayak in the Honor Wave. This wave was filled with service men and women and family members of the fallen. Patrick was assigned to Molly. Molly and other of her family members were swimming in memory of Molly's cousin, Brian Bill. Master Chief Petty Officer Bill was killed in August 2011, along with 37 other service members, when the helicopter he was in was shot down in Afghanistan. This event would become the largest loss of life in the military campaign in Afghanistan. As the morning continued on the sun broke above the water, lighting the sky. The swimmers and kayakers made final preparations. Then they gathered together for one last message. Here we listened to the final swim report, telling us of water temperatures (mid 60's), winds, and the crossing we are about to make. We lined up along the shoreline for one final group photo. There amongst the other swimmers, we smiled, laughed, and patted each other on the back as a statement confirming we would see each other on the other side. I walked back to where Patrick was standing, seeing my parents gathered near my dad's kayak. In that moment again my heart leaped with love. They were here to support not only me but these men whose names we heard, whose faces we saw in photos around us. Then the day really began. The reading of the fallen SEALs began. Each name, each ranking. Families around us hugged or laid a hand on a shoulder as the heard the name of a loved one. In silence we listened, the winds brushing past us and the sun light breaking through the clouds.

After the names were read the colors were marched out to the start line. Some buzzing and delay occurred, including a false release of the colors, before an announcement was made that there was going to be a change to the process for the National Anthem. Instead of one voice singing there was a request for every voice to sing. The colors again were presenting, then low the words began to take to the air, louder and louder then grew. Not all in key, not all in tempo, not all on the same word- but in that moment we were all together. Hearing the National Anthem sung this way, as a group, is one of my favorite things to hear at race start, I often prefer it to a single singer. Upon the end the Anthem, clapping and hoots broke out. Then the sounds of zipping wetsuits and the snapping of swim caps. The waves started out one after the next. I kissed Patrick goodbye, as he took out after his swimmer. I stood there with my parents, hugging them both for a minute, before heading the start line (the kayaks would start behind us). As I lined up to start out I spotted my dad among the kayakers gave him a wave to note where I was and to motion that I was changing our plan, I would now be to the inside not the outside of my grouping. I waved to my mom on shore, gave a thumbs up to my dad, pulled down my goggles, and high fived a guy standing next me. We waited for the horn to go off- then boom, into the cold water we dove. Yes 66 degrees is cold even if you have been swimming in mid-50 degree water. The first stretch was a little bit of chaos (as expected). I had a kayaker come up to my side who I knew was not my dad. This "wrong" kayaker stayed at my side for a few minutes, until realizing I was not the swimmer he was looking for, he broke from me and quickly seemed on the heels of another swimmer. I flipped to a single back stroke to spot my dad. I again threw a thumbs up as my hand floated through the air. My dad had already spotted me (as he would tell me later) but it was good to have confirmation. From there he stayed by my side as we passed, were passed, and found our place in the line of swimmers taking on the bay that day. The year before we had not touched the water, now the water surrounded us. There was not a stroke that I didn't think about why I was there and who I represented, SO2 SEAL Matthew Kantor. Also with me, I could feel under my wetsuit taped to me the coins I had received from Petty Officer 2nd Class Danny Dietz's mother the year before. I had worn them when I swam my makeshift Frogman upon returning home after the year's swim was canceled due to weather but it only felt right that morning to have them with me, to carry his memory, as well, across the bay that day. The water was not flat but it was flatters than the waters back home had been. It would the current which would challenge us the most. Even the kayakers were being pushed south. After heading Northeast for just over a half mile, we turned to go Southeast. You might think- if the current is going south and we needed to go south then this would be perfect. You are sort of incorrect. The problem is the swimmer has to go southward but while staying north and in the buoy line, otherwise you will be way south of the exit at the time of needing to exit. For me the benefit was I had swam similar crossing issues during Escape from Alcatraz years before. Just after mile one I hit the sand bar, with shallow areas where my finger grazed the grasses. At this time my hands and arms were going numb. The numbness was only on the outside of my arms and my hips were not hurting, which was a good sign. The only sea life I saw during this time was a ray who skated by on the bar, probably trying to figure out what these weird migrating animals were floating over his sandbar. At mile two the sandbar began to drop off, then at about two and half it was gone; we were in the channel, in the darkness. Here the water pulled us, leaving my dad to yell "LEFT" louder and louder, in order to keep me on track. In this segment we passed a group of five swimming together, a band of brothers. It was an amazing sight, each time I turned my head they were there swimming stroke for stroke surrounded by a half a dozen kayaks with the American and SEAL flags attached and waving strongly. After we passed them, there was silence. It wasn't real silence, it was just that in that moment I knew we were getting close. My dad yelled left, pushing me up toward an even buoy, but all I saw was a channel marker so that's where I headed. Again, there with my body starting to feel the full effects of the cold was my dad. He was guiding me, knowing what was behind and how much further I had to go. It was a role he had played several times in my life, he again was there to push my limits, to offer support, and to ensure if I needed a life line I had one.

All of a sudden my dad's word changed, RIGHT. I looked right and there was the turn buoy. Not only was I nearing the sounds of the finish line, I was making the final turn to land. Now headed true south with the current fully in my favor, my strokes picked up. I was pushing all I had left. My arms tingled each time they hit the water, my kick deepened. I glanced up at my dad once more and I saw him look at the distance ahead and then look at me beside him, he knew the final push was kicking in and that now I knew my path. Pushing to the finish my dad pushed out form me slightly, knowing I was coming up along side other swimmers. I could spot ahead the final turn buoy. The sand below got closer and closer. I made the final turn. I spotted forward to the beach, that's where I wanted to be. My dad peeled off to the "kayak area". As I was nearing shore other swimmers started to pop up, I continued my swim stroke. I swam till even my short stroke stirred up the sand. I stood with the water mid-shin. The volunteers cheered and high fived as the swimmers crossed the finish line, there names being called in victory along with the nae of those they swam for that day. Now Patrick will joke at my elbows out finish,a s this is my "norm", but for me in that moment it was so much more it was pushing till the end, pushing till the task was over. I ran past a few other swimmers and across the finish line after 1:45:12 in the water, putting in the middle of the ladies pack. At the finish were families of the fallen, handing out finisher coins to the swimmers. These family members did not care that we were soaking wet, they didn't mind that when they hugged us or we hugged them that we leaned on them maybe a little more than normal, instead their faces were filled with light and hope and grace. Also at the finish was my family, Patrick, my mom, and my dad. Patrick hugged me and laughed with me. My dad patted me on the back. My mom went in to full mother mode trying to make sure I had a warm towel or drink or anything I needed- I am pretty sure I could have asked for a cheeseburger right then and she would have found one in her bag! All I wanted was to stand there in that moment surround by those I love most for a cause I deeply believe in- and that's what I got! As my body warmed we walked to the car loaded the kayak, changed clothes, and headed off to a great party!! During the after party I had to the opportunity to speak with Danny Dietz's mother once again. I introduced myself as a swimmer but more so as a swimmer who was assigned to swim in her son's memory the year before. I told her of my swim upon coming back home the previous year and of wearing her son's mission and memory coins as I traveled across the bay on this day. She smiled as we talked, said thank you, and then hugged me. My heart again stood still. Once again I was in awe of what her and her family and those alike, must go through each day, and I only hope that with each day and each effort by all of us these families are lifted and healed just a bit more. While I am sure there are tears, this event is also about the smiles we shared together because of the sacrifice of others and those smiles we cherish. The Frogman is a dear event to me. This year with the help of MANY friends and local support I raised $1400 for the Navy SEAL Foundation. I am thankful to all those who helped, from working water stops, to eating out for a cause, to making custom bracelets, to donating, and supporting me each time I went in the water. A special thank you to my mother who will always be waiting patiently with a cow bell to bring me home safely; to my father who offers guidance to my path, even into the blinding sun; and to my love (Patrick) who stands by me, kayaks by me, swims by me, bikes by me, runs by me, and loves me each day more than I could have even imagined a person could love. Here's to making plans to get in to the event for 2018!!

#IMCHOO #IMTraining #Triathlete #Triathlon

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weracetogether · 7 years

Text

Frogman 2017- An Advernture of a Different Kind

Coming into my second year having the opportunity to participate in the Tampa Bay Frogman Swim my excitement level was off the chart, flowed by my nerves in a close second. I guess that's why it took me these past 42 days to write this blog report.

Christmas Day Swim

Matthew Kantor

Brian Bill

#IFTTT #Blogger #Triathlete #Triathlon #WeRaceTogether

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