#and no green turn first UGH S O disappointing

[jrueships]

this is so gay

[holykillercake]

FRIED EGGS

KOBY x Pirate!Reader

word count: 2k

summary: Being infiltrated as a Marine and keeping your feelings under control was easy until you were assigned to work with Marine Captain Koby. How you wished he was a jerk.

highlight: ¨I am kissing you... but I am angry, Y/N-san...¨

warnings: read under the risk of developing diabetes.

notes: Hey, guys! This was a lovely request from @pure-kirarin! <3 I had to stop other projects to make this one because Koby threw me out of my comfort zone hahaha I really hope you like!! ALSO 1) Happy Birthday Sabo-kun! ALSO 2) In order to add more dept to the story, the main character is part of a Yonkos´crew, but I wrote in a way that all fit, so choose your favorite! ALSO 3) ART ALERT!

Leave comments, hearts and love!

¨You have been doing a remarkable job in such little time, Commander L/N. We all have great expectations regarding your transference to our Marine Headquarters.¨ 

The words of the Rear Admiral barely scratched your mind as you discreetly observed the pink-haired boy´s reflection on the crystal clear window. 

He maintained a similar posture to yours: chin up, chest out, shoulders back, and stomach in. However, while your fingers remained paralleled to your trousers, you took a glimpse of his clenched fist, thumb fidgeting the side of his index finger. 

¨Vice Admiral Tsuru was reluctant to sign your transfer. She said you remind her of herself in the past, which is always an excellent compliment to hear.¨ you nodded, acknowledging his words  ¨We´re glad we convinced her.¨

Your heart warmed with his words, and you almost felt bad because you knew the disappointing outcome O-Tsuru-san would have at the end of this. She trained you with the iron face of a merciless soldier, and the elegance that resembled the animal of her name.

It has been three years since you received the green card from your captain to part ways in a long-term solo mission. A journey to excavate the putrid secrets of the so-called defenders of the law. You learned after a short time that justice is not so black and white.

Not that you planned to reveal the dirt, no. That intel your captain could sell to the Revolutionary Army and keep the capital running. You were interested in the arms race, the corrupt diplomacy, and more importantly, the dark pipes where traitors flowed.

Someone from inside the Yonkos was feeding the Marines with crucial information about the Emperors´ activities. And in such a close fight, you could not take those risks.

All other Emperors must have their own undercover agents within the Marines, but even that was a dispute. You could point some names to your boss, who confirmed what was suspected. Those would usually be the best of the best, extravagant and loud.

But not you. You didn't have to make that much noise. You slid between the floors of New Marineford like a snake swimming with the current. Earning the respect of your superiors and being promoted without ringing any bells. You accepted each medal with a firm salutation and relentless performance. 

¨The trip must have been displeasing. Submerging ten thousand meters underwater and rising to these fiendish waters require a good rest. Our Marine Captain Koby will escort you to your quarters, Commander Y/N. The remaining instructions shall be presented tomorrow.¨

You saluted the Rear Admiral in front of you and turned to the exit, passing by Koby, who waited for you to leave first.  When your paths crossed, the pace of your heartbeats quickened, pumping more blood through your body and leaving a burning sensation on your cheeks. 

The involuntary response was instantly interpreted as alertness to danger, which needed to be handled with caution. 

Can´t let my guard down around this one, you thought.

In fact, you planned to keep as much distance as you could from him. An officer let slip that he has been gaining incredible control over his Observation Haki since the Paramount War. 

But the wind seemed to change direction, and you began to swim against the current. When the morning came, you were assigned to be his partner for an undetermined time, and he would act as your superior. The idea of being bossed around by a younger marine got your temper sparked. 

Only he was not like the others, treating you in a patronizing and condescending way. He spoke to you with the same cordiality and politeness he addressed everybody else. 

Slowly, your concrete cold expression began to soothe. You would still remind yourself how annoying his good manners were, though. So annoying, seriously!

¨Good morning, Y/N-san!¨ he greeted as you joined him for breakfast. 

¨Good morning, Koby.¨ 

¨Our Border Force correspondent sent his report early in the morning with information about possible Yonkos´ alliances in the Wano Country. We are arranging a meeting as soon as possible.¨ 

You didn´t like to handle work so early, but this subject, in particular, raised your spirits. ¨Good. It was about time.¨

You noticed that he wore a different headband. ¨What happened?¨ 

¨Hm?¨ he brought the soup bowl close to his mouth. 

¨The bandana. Green, with the fried eggs.¨ he choked on the miso soup, coughing like he had swallowed poison. 

You reached for a paper tissue and handed it to him. ¨K-Koby, are you ok?¨

¨Y-Y/N... Y/N-san...¨ he coughed some more ¨They´re not... fried eggs...¨

¨Oh...¨ your brows raised slightly ¨What are they?¨

A depressive aura grew around him ¨They are flowers, YN-san...¨

The edge of your lips contorted as you tried to hide a smile. You haven´t felt like smiling genuinely for years. Annoying boy!

From that moment on, ignoring him became more difficult. He started to ask you to train with him or invite you to spend some time with him and Helmeppo whenever you had free time. Eventually, he began to ask you how he looked before an important meeting. 

Most of the time, you would reply something like ¨ok¨. But sometimes, the mouth was quicker than the brain, and you would let an ¨impeccable¨ slip out, followed by an awkward throat clearing and blushed cheeks. 

From both sides.

•

¨Oh my-¨ you stopped yourself from finishing the sentence. 

You were chosen to complete this mission due to your excellent skills in hiding emotions and acting calm under stressful situations. No one could break you. 

Within the Marines, no joke could make you crack a smile, and no torture could make you spill secrets. 

Why did you want to ask if he was ok?

Koby had entered his office with bumps and bloody bruises over his face. His always neat uniform was blotchy, and he carried a first aid kit. 

¨Garp-san paid a visit.¨ He sat on the couch and opened the white box, throwing everything on the coffee table. ¨I bet it wasn't like this with Tsuru-san.¨ he chuckled. 

¨No. She would beat me up, wash me and hang me up to dry.¨ 

You shot from the chair, moving towards the clumsy pinkette, who struggled to attend to his injuries. He tried to hold the mirror with one hand and suture his gash with the other. 

¨Thank yo-¨

¨Shh. Don´t move.¨

You leaned closer to have a better look, giving Koby the same chance. Your delicate perfume smelled like it was tailor-made for you. Your breathing was slightly irregular, and your lip twitched with every given stitch. Your fingers felt like feathers on his skin, so much that he didn´t even feel a sting. 

The job was fast and efficient, making Koby wish Garp had put more effort into his Love Fist. Grabbing a piece of wet cotton, you cleaned the dried blood.  

¨Alright...¨ you whispered.

¨Alright...¨ he whispered back.

You were inches apart from his face, your eyes traveling across the scar on his forehead, the pink locks, and kind features. Your mind traced back all the way to the Paramount War. You had very little knowledge about him, but the words he spoke that day have always made your heart pound like cannonballs. 

You will make an excellent Admiral one day, Koby. 

I hope you don´t hate me. 

¨Y-Y/N-san...¨

¨Hm?¨

¨Your smile is beautiful.¨

¨What?¨ The stupid scene of yours was interrupted like a DJ stopping the record player. 

With cheeks getting pinker than his hair, you shot up and marched back to the chair and your newspaper. ¨You clean this up.¨ 

He left a low chuckle out and began gathering the mess. 

Oh, no, Y/N. You have got to be kidding me. 

He is a freaking marine. Breathe. 

There were a vast number of reasons why you couldn´t like him: from him being a Marine Captain and you being a pirate to the fact that your mission was coming to a conclusion.

Meaning that your journey as his partner would be very soon reaching its end. The meeting with this mysterious correspondent regarding the Yonkos´ operations in the New World would be the last move in this chess game. You would be going home. Mission completed. Everything perfect, right? 

Right, perfect. Impeccable! Ugh!

•

¨... confirm secure line.¨

¨This is Border Officer code 404890. Secure line confirmed.¨ you spoke with a low but clear voice through the nail transponder. 

¨What´s the status on our birdie?¨

¨Positive. The birdie is located at 03:24:01.¨ you gave your boss a coordinate to the name of the Marine informant. The answer you took three years to find out remained on file number one, third page, suspect number twenty-four. 

An amused laugh echoed on your end, and you buried the speaker on your jacket to muffled the sound. 

¨At least he is not one of ours.¨ a chuckle ¨Great job, Y/N.¨

¨Thank you, boss.¨

¨I know this mustn't have been easy, but you were impeccable as always.¨

Yeah, impeccable. 

¨You know the protocol now. We´ll see each other in a few days. You´ll have a party waiting for you, kid.¨

¨Aye, aye, boss. But I want the good booze.¨  Both of you laughed. 

You finished the call, and the smile on your lips died as the image of a pink-haired boy invaded your mind. You wished he was a jerk like everybody else. 

It would have been so easy. 

¨Who were you talking to?¨ your chest contracted, pushing the air out of your lungs and sending extra blood supply to your muscles. 

You hid the transponder into your jacket and turned, facing your Marine Captain. 

¨Eavesdropping, Koby?¨

What should I do?

¨Y/N-san, who were you talking to?¨ he repeated himself, offering the benefit of the doubt. You sighed.

¨My captain.¨ 

Why the need to be honest with him?

¨Y/N-san, please don´t tell me-¨

¨I´m sorry, Koby. I wish I didn´t have to do this.¨ you couldn´t bring yourself to face him.

¨A-Are you a pirate? Why?¨

You chuckled ¨Why am I a pirate?¨

¨Why did you do this?¨ his face was pale, making your guts twitch in guilt.

¨I´m on a mission. But I´ll leave soon.¨

¨You are like... Vergo-san.¨ he sounded disappointed.

¨I am nothing like Vergo. You know this.¨ or at least you hoped he did. 

He closed the door slowly, eyes fixed on your figure. The bright light from the window made him look like an ethereal painting.

While you tried to predict his next move, whether he was going to interrogate you or kick your ass, Koby acted calm and collected, not hesitating. He trusted his Observation Haki to guide his next move. Or maybe his heart.

You saw a pink blur closing distance like a missile, and before you could dodge, his hands pulled you by the waist, connecting your bodies and lips. 

He forced your back to meet the thick window with a gasp that was muffled by the kiss. His touch was rough upon the fabric of your uniform, but his mouth felt soft against yours.

Your hands moved to his hair, removing the round pair of glasses and the green bandana so you could get lost in his locks. His grip was harsh under the fabric of your uniform, but his hair felt soft on your fingertips. 

A moan escaped your lips when he parted the kiss with a loud snap and struck the glass with both hands, keeping you trapped in the middle. You let go of his hair and grabbed him by the collar, not letting him go away.

¨I am kissing you... but I am angry, Y/N-san...¨ his breath was heavy and carried with a myriad of emotions. 

¨I know... I am sorry.¨

¨Why?¨

¨Because I like you, Koby. A lot.¨ he paused for a second, fighting the urge to admit the same.

¨What was your mission?¨

This is the last lie, I promise, Koby. ¨The Marines possessed vital information about something my boss wants. I needed to get it.¨

¨Now that I know that you´re a pirate and that you stole Marine´s assets, I´m gonna have to hunt you down.¨

¨I´ll be waiting for you.¨ 

You stared him in the eyes, and he kissed you to stop himself from saying what he really wanted. 

I love you, Y/N-san.

Diary of Koby-Meppo: The Fried Egg Life Crisis.

💕 @vemuabhi

[stargirlwnchstr]

I have a visual to share with y'all. Say welcome to my long ass 'The Foxes + tiktok' headcanon

@ nickythefox_es (part 1???)

Basically Nicky gets tiktok but all of the foxes show up eventually and just use his profile.

• Most of the videos are with nicky and allison, also matt and dan and occasionally neil.

• Allison and nicky learn so many dances.

• Their duet of make his pockets hurt with Mariah and Zane from the vlog squad is the first one to go v i r a l.

• Yeah most of their followers know them but some and a lot of the comments are non exy fans that just watch them because they're cool

• So many of the "what is exy" "stickball game??" "dont even bother explaining to me what is the sport they play I dont care I'm just here for neil." And related comments get a liked from creator (andrew told nicky to like them)

•The "Oh my god she's coming." "I'm so afraid of her." Audio are the twinyards and nicky shows up, he had to bribe them to be a part of that one.

• They post another version but it's Kevin that enters and Allison and Nicky talking

• So many comments thirsting over them and calling matt and dan parents

• "the real bisexual struggle is simping for matt and dan in the same tiktok." -> liked from creator nickythefox_es commented/replied: ASDGFKSSDWADKWB

• Someone makes a 'put a finger down: Neil Josten edition' and nicky drags him to do it. They both smile as they listen to the prompts and Neil obviously puts all his fingers down but they're like "put a finger down if you clapbacked/if you bad mouthed someone (bonus points if it was on national tv)" "put a finger down if you're under 6 feet" "put a finger down if you love exy" and the last one just says "put a finger down if andrew minyard." Neil does and smiles at someone off camera. Needless to say it goes viral as well. A few weeks after nicky gets verified.

• Allison becomes friends with thenavarose and wisdom sorry I dont make the rules (they're fashion tiktokers)

• They make a series of rating each of the foxes throughout the day, including one of Wymack.

• They do receive bad comments, from bitter ravens fans or just recalling their pasts and nicky sits down and makes a video telling everyone about how they do this videos for fun they dont need hate and negative comments on their videos and all that

• Then another one posted minutes after, neil comes in and nicky says "okay neil you have one minute. Rant off." And neil goes on this rant like how they already hit Rock bottom a single comment is not gonna hurt them and "do you get how insignificant and meaningless your lives must be? You took the time to write and post a comment that you thought was gonna cause an impact and failed. Also thanks for the comments though it helps nicky stay on the algorithm." NICKY SCREECHES AND THE VIDEO ENDS WITH THEM SMILING

• Allison vlogs neil and her going shopping or thrifting also cutting Neil's hair

• *neil walks into the room wearing his orange bandana* *camera moves and zooms on Andrew's face* he doesnt lip sync but the song sings "oh noo I think I'm catching feelings" andrew tells him to delete it "but it already has thousands of likes andrew"

• They post some of their work out routines per request

• One of them is the fast and "I'm spinning like a ballerina" chill of neil just running on the treadmill and doing sprints and squats and leg stuff while it cuts to allison doing a bit of everything but looking like a queen on a matching set.

• A fun one that goes viral for "vine energy" is: it's very quiet on the court and Kevin, very in the zone, throws the ball to the goal, which Andre's catches easily and almost without moving. The camera goes back to kevin as he screeches and let's himself fall on the ground. Neil is standing beside him shaking his head and looking at the goal with a smile on his face.

• They try to teach neil the dances but while filming one of them he just leaves. They post it either way.

• They're in the bus, nicky is on selfie mode and says "it is game day my dudes" he turns and shows the whole bus S C R E A M S, in the corner Wymack is covering his face.

• The iconic "they say drunk thoughts are sober words" or something like that and it cuts to a series of videos of the foxes drunk af. Example: Nicky grabbing Allison's face and saying 'Remember. Bread. Head. Leave.' And allison nodding.

• Nicky films kevin standing up and put the "do you ever wonder what is going on inside their head?" And it cuts to pictures of racquets and exy and Jeremy Knox and one that says history stuff.

• Another one that goes viral is kevin very seriously and p e r f o r m i n g, rapping Jefferson's side of the cabinet battle #1 from Hamilton then towards the end andrew stands up in front of him and with his iconic bored expression he starts rapping Hamilton's part. Behind the camera there's a soft "...oh my gOD" and kevin is shocked eyes widen open and then the camera zooms on Neil who's mouth is open in shock but GRINNING and ~impressed~

• Dan and matt do The challenge, you know the one that like has to flip them over and all that and they ace it, nicky points the camera to where andrew and neil are stating and Andrew says no.

• A few minutes later another video of the challenge is posted only this time is matt and neil.

• Nicky and allison are in full gear filming a dance video (maybe savage or captain hook) on the court and someone films them filming that and then Wymack looking at them SO disappointed cut to Wymack with nicky's phone, having confiscated it and nicky besides him "coach, it's cardio!"

• Hours spent trying trick shots

• Foxes: "get back! Move!" Ravens: "Let me in! I be the I g g y!" Trojans: "Oh my God do no let her in" Foxes: "I am trying!"

• Nicky lying down: "okay but someone needs to tell me how old is the shirtless pottery guy. I can't be part of another controversy. It's for science c'mon. *debby Ryan's*"

• Someone comments "he's eighteen. Simp away, nicky." And he makes a video with his feet swinging and smiling. Aaron gets on the frame and says "we are deeply in need of some bowls." The caption: hi @ papapots

• They are verified so obviously he gains a couple of thousands followers and he duets smiling and with a package in his arms. Text: thanks for the support (and hi new followers from sport side of tiktok hope you enjoy my pots) caption: hi @ nickthefox_es I got you aaron.

• After the package comes they duet it with nicky screaming and showing off the goods and then he moves stop show andrew eating ice cream out of one of them. Caption: AJSNEPWLDKSS THANK YOU DAX

• Allison and nicky do the "I love you!" "No you dont topper! You love the idea of me. You love being seen with me but you dont love me." But nicky is Sarah and allison is topper. Next day the obx ig page reposted it "we stan the psu foxes pogues for life." And chase stokes posts it on Twitter saying "yoo the palmetto foxes watch??? my show???" Nicky takes a screenshot and on green screen he says "hi chase!! We do! The whole team binged it. Currently we've been debating who of us is going to dress up as pogues for Halloween." A lot of voices start arguing and as nicky is gonna enter the debate the video cuts.

• Allison does the facetime *deep male voice says hey* prank on them. Neil doesnt react. Nicky doesnt look up from his phone but does the finger thing and says "get that d, allison!" Dan and renee look at each other and then at allison and she bursts out laughing.

• aaron studying to be a doctor: *two plus two is four etc sound* andrew (eating pretzels from the bag while watching a game show lying down in a bean bag) and his eiditic memory [basically not needing to study]: *three is a magic number sound*

• Nicky runs through the court and enters the lounge beside the photo wall there's a poster he shows the camera as the sounds says it "alive ahaha fuck"

• Somehow they convince all of them to show up and do the wipe it down trend that ends up with wymack throwing the towel at the mirror.

• Comment: so how many members of the team listen to girl in red or sweater weather? Nicky stands there with the color filter: 👁👄👁👉👈 caption: yes❤

• He gets neil to duet to the whole "british people be like". "Neil I'm not british." "Part of you is so just read the tweets." He does and the comments are all thirst and simping

• Comment: raise your hand if you've been victimized by neil josten. Where my fellow Simps at? (The comment gets hundreds of thousands of likes) they make a video, everyone on the team except aaron who walks out raises their hand as the sound says "welcome to simp nation" kevin rolls his eyes but raises his, says something that nicky captions "i simp over his exy skills". andrew doesn't at first, but next to him neil whispers something and after andrew says yes, neil grabs Andrew's forearm and raises it. Andrew looks away and neil smiles.

• Nicky lying down: okay but what if Jean moreau traded places with the french guy from here you know who, david.

• Comment "ugh your mind nicky" reply video: right? Big brain, many thoughts, head full all the time. But like actually the idea of david playing exy and Jean hanging out with ducks and making viral tiktoks just-

• Comment "i feel you and @ austincantdrive would make the best chaotic duo" reply: we would be too powerful together. Austin replies too: agree.

• Allison makes a sports jersey/comfy wear but make it fashion and she styles herself. Everyone on the comments d i e s for her.

• Comment "okay but what about the boys. help allison." She makes a video too with matt and nicky and at the end neil wears an orange crop top and the internet b r e a k s

• Comment "allison do you listen to girl in red?" video reply: her winking at the camera and lip syncing as sweater weather plays. The comments a lot of them liked by creator: a win for the girls (and the boys)

• Upperclassmen Back in 2003: okay but hey do we always have to be involved? Can we do normal stuff that normal people do, like, go for brunch? Us (aaron, andrew, kevin and me): what the fuck is brunch?

• Of course they do the mr blue sky trend. Nicky: drunkenly goes to flirt with a guy. Aaron: drunkenly follows to get away from kevin. Kevin: drunk on pure vodka reminds us we have practice in the morning.

• Or another one all of them. Neil: ready to insult a reporter. Dan: tries not to laugh on camera. Matt: gets ready to hug him afterwards Allison and Nicky: Filming everything. Wymack: the only one trying to stop it from happening and failing.

• Dan and matt duet their reactions to every video edit of them, smiling and saying "your parents love you guys!".

• Comment "literally what is wrong with the ravens/ravens fans?The foxes are such a nice group of people and they're doing great in the sport y'all worship just shut up you cult-y athletic hype house." video reply: "ladies and gentlemen. The volume inside of this bus is A S T R O N O M I C A L."

• comment video reply: okay so we're not gonna talk about nicky at the gym?? Bc C A K E. nicky lip syncing "I'm glad you brung it up because I've been dying to talk about this for a fucking hot minute. First of all-"

• Colin uses one of Neil's or Andrew's interviews replies as one of his sounds and nicky fanboys a lot

• Allison and nicky do the Kardashian sound compilation.

• Nicky with a picture of Erik on green screen: "hi I just wanna say if you look anything like this please contact me. Thank you." Caption: miss u baby. And Erik watches his tiktoks and he facetimes him immediately. Nicky takes a screenshot and duets his own video crying with the screenshot caption: SKALSBSKAJSL Erik comments: stop making tiktoks and answer the phone, hemmick. Nicky replies: yessir everyone below comments keyboard smashes and you got a good one. Goals. Lmao kids that's what we call bottom panic. We stan one healthy long distance relationship and after that a bunch of long distance relationship questions that he makes another video on.

• A video of Katelyn and neil chatting and it pans to the twins watching them with the *when worlds collide sound*

• He reposts a snippet of one of his interviews post game where he grabs the mic from the reporter and nicky: can I say something? Reporter: sure, go ahead. Nicky: thank you. *looks straight into the camera* all the birds died in 1986 due to Reagan killing them and replacing them with spies that are now watching us. The birds work for the bourgeoisie. Thank you." And leaves. IT GOES VIRAL INSTANTLY.

• Comment "is everyone else gonna forget that tiktok where he said he was already part of a controversy? We stan a problematic icon?" Video reply: guys I might have been part of a whole Twitter beef thing against my little hoodie and Bruce hallway but c'mon, like, c'mon you can't blame me.

• Comment "for neil: does the carpet match the drapes 👅😍?" Video reply: neil on selfie mode. "Allison gave me her phone, told me to answer this and ran away so umm." He reads the box on the screen and frowns he walks and stands next to the window, where Andrew is sitting down and is barely seen on frame. "uhmm, the internet is confusing. Our carpet is like this" he turns the phone and shows the floor (grayish carpet) and then back at him "but we don't have drapes so, technically they don't match, I dont know." Andrew's head goes up and simply says "Neil." Neil turns "what?" And the video ends.

• of course nicky and allison do the WAP dance, on the court, when they should be running drills.

[katsuflossy]

Yooo I’m already in with your blog! Can I request how Midoriya, Bakugo , and Todoroki would react to an s/o who always carries a blanket or hoodie with them cause they constantly get cold?

S/o with a blankie

Pairing: Bakugo Katsuki x reader, Midoriya Izuku x reader, Todoroki x reader

TW: obscenities

A/n: This took me back to childhood where I travelled everywhere with my blankie 😭😭. But I hope you like it!! 💕

Taglist: @sunset-novice-writer @goatsenpaiultimate

💥 Is mind boggled when he saw you carrying around a yellow blanket with a duck head on top?

💥 Nah fuck Aizawa and his yellow sleeping bag, get into (y/n) and her yellow blankie.

💥 Was in such a state of confusion when he saw you walking around with it slung over your shoulder like you just strolled out of bed.

💥 “Are you fucking five? Your blankie won’t protect from villains, little girl.”

💥 When you actually tell him why you do carry around the fabric, he still chews you out.

💥 “Then wear a fucking sweater like a normal teenager.”

💥 He’s just jealous because during your free time you’re usually snuggled up into the yellow fluff with the ducky’s head perched on top of yours.

💥 You’re unbearably cute, having all the boys and girls cooing at the adorable sight.

💥 That’s why when he became your boyfriend, his intent laid on getting you away from the fluffy fabric.

💥 First, it’s prohibited within his room. You’re cold? Snuggle up on him. Final answer.

💥 Plus it blocks him from actually touching and rubbing the softness of your own body.

💥 He generates a lot of heat, the downside is the sweat.

💥 Nervous as hell to have you cuddle him in public so the sweat amplifies. Still, he has a mission to be your only source of heat.

💥 If the blankie is really sentimental, he’ll take its presence...sometimes.

💥 But for the public...he’s your new blanket now. His whole body encapsulate you in front of whichever guys were fawning over your cuteness from before.

💥 Ain’t nothing wrong with that because your back is glued to his chest as his chin lays on top of your head, glaring at whoever like a hawk. His firm but still soft touch massages your skin as a comfort mechanism, not for you but for him.

💥 “Yeah, that’s right, the fuck you looking at?” When the only person that’s staring at you is the bluejay outside the window.

💥 At least he’s proud of being a substitute blanket, I guess 🤷🏽‍♀️.

🥦 At first, he was completely confused.

🥦 Remember this the same boy that saw his home room teacher rolled up in a sleeping bag and just went with it.

🥦 But he was really confused as to why he would see you in the lunchroom, wrapped up in a big All Might blanket.

🥦 Thought you were a hysterical avid fan like him. He ran up to you excitedly talking about his favourite merch and what edition the blanket you had on was.

🥦 But to find out you were just cold did disappoint him a bit.

🥦Sorry pal, you’ll have to search harder for a fan as invested as you.

🥦 Once you two are together, he brings the cuddles at night while the blanket brings you warmth in the day.

🥦 Actually crawls under the blanket with you at night. You’d make funny faces to him while laying on top of his chest. The blanket covered his and yours body until you’d snuggled further into his chest.

🥦 The blanket will sometimes be long forgotten as you and Izuku stirred in your sleep, closing as much distance between your bodies as possible.

🥦 Blanket: 5 Midoriya: ∞

🥦 In the day, he’d feel you inch closer to him unconsciously, trying to feel his comforting warmth.

🥦 Is coy at the thought of PDA, but if you need more warmth and affection, baby boy his right here. He’ll feel the familiar texture of the blanket then the body underneath softly pressing against his own. His green eyes marvel at how adorable you look before turning back to the conversation around him with a soft smile on his face and a blush tinging the tips of his ears and nose.

🥦 He takes it to wash with him whenever he has to do laundry, always separating it from the rest and providing extra care such as a little more softener in the wash and longer drying time in the least harmful setting.

🥦 Very observant so when he sees you curling more into the blanket after he used it, he’ll make sure to leave his scent on it more.

🥦 Ugh, he’s the best boyfriend.

🧊 SUUUUPER confused. He’s wondering why are you wearing your bedsheet to school.

🧊 Now, Shoto did not have the luxury of owning a sentimental blanket when he was younger. Yeah, fuck you Endeavor.

🧊 So when you explain how not only does it keep you warm, it makes you feel happy he’s the gears in his head are working real hard to understand.

🧊 “So that's why I walk with my blankie.”

🧊 “...but...it’s a piece of fabric.” (someone get this reference, please)

🧊 But he does think its absolutely adorable, seeing the mint blue draped over your head and encompassing your body as you rock back and forth makes his eyes go wide trying to take in all the cuteness.

🧊 He finally understands how the blanket bewitched you...because it’s starting to bewitch him.

🧊 He always joins you under the blanket whether in private or public. And everyone got used to the image of seeing both of your faces squished together under the yards of mint blue.

🧊 He still roasts Bakugo under the blanket and looks cute doing it.

🧊 If you feel particularly cold, he lets you cuddle into his right side. If you feel particularly hot but still wants to cuddle into the blanket, he lets you cuddle on his left. Either way, he likes it when you both are cuddling under the blanket.

🧊 Remember when I said he wasn’t given the luxury of being attached to the blanket? Well, he’s taking that opportunity now.

🧊 For an entire day, you couldn’t find the blanket, believing it was within the mess called your room. So you went to Shoto’s dorm, ready to beg for help in searching for the blankie.

🧊 But lo and behold. The blanket was wrapped around your boyfriend sitting cross-legged, drinking apple juice while watching some cartoon Midoriya recommended.

🧊 You didn’t have the heart to take it back from him; he was living his childhood in his teenage years.

🧊 And that’s how blankie got a new owner. In fairness, Shoto always offers you space under the blanket when you’re in his dorm

🧊 He also traded you the blanket for one of his hoodies.

🧊 I’d say it was a good trade.

[domesticmail]

happy new year || vince dunn

AUTHOR’S NOTE: happy new year to everyone!!! i hope you’re all ringing in this year with love & kindness! this is a fic for @hockeynetwork​ ‘s fic exchange, particularly for @pucksnsticksnhockeyboys​ !! 

i think you’re officially the last fic recipient of 2020, so congratulations!! i hope you like the fic <33

lots of thanks to @makarsy​ for beta-ing this for me!! <3

WORD COUNT: 5.7k

WARNINGS: dysfunctional family, divorce, alcohol !

SUMMARY: going back to your hometown to visit your family for the holidays is supposed to be fun. accidentally running into your childhood best friend is supposed to be nostalgic. love is supposed to have a happy ending. nothing disappoints more than high expectations.

She’d hung the mistletoe right under the hallway arch. The gray-green leaves, attached to stems that seemed to sink with the gravity, dangled from the red ribbon holding them together, tied to a hook hanging from the highest point of the arch. Small berries, white in color, caught your eye as you stood, frozen, in the living room. 

The familiar feeling of dread and terror floods your veins. Your chest begins to freeze over as your heart picks up pace. It’s like someone lit a bonfire in the middle of a glacier, and it’s melting you. If you were a little less aware, you’d think you were sinking to your knees, weakness invading and settling deep in the bones of your legs like the mere memory of him saps you of all your willpower.

There’s a strange floating feeling in the gravity you feel. It’s like you’re being pulled up and down simultaneously, and for a moment you feel so confused, and it scares you, this feeling of anxiety and fear.

A familiar hand settles on your shoulder, pulling you out of the spiral. “I thought maybe it’d be a...cute little touch.” From the way the deep voice is straining to hit a higher octave, you’re guessing it’s your brother, mimicking your mom.

You turn, and you’re right. He’s rolling his eyes, saying some smartass comment or another. Something about how she has no regard for anyone but herself. You nod noncommittally as he downs a glass of champagne. You raise an eyebrow. “Don’t you think you should pace yourself? It’s just more fuel for Aunt Cindy.”

“Y/N, I’ve never cared about what she thinks, and I sure as hell am not gonna start now.”

You shrug as he looks you up and down. Your shitty christmas sweater is the only one you own, but it’s the perfect mixture of funny and definitely going to offend Mom. It’s a knitted, ugly green, and the front has Jesus with a party blower in his mouth. He’s wearing a birthday hat, one of the pointy cone ones, and is holding a white, circular balloon that has “HAPPY BIRTHDAY” written on it in red. He’s wearing a shirt that says “BIRTHDAY BOY”.

She nearly had a heart attack when she saw you wearing it last week. The mistletoe, then, is payback, presumably.

“Danny?”

He turns back to you, eyebrows raised.

“Are you getting more champagne?” You ask. He nods. “I want some too,” you sigh, joining him at the kitchen island. He smiles conspiratorially.

While he pours you a glass, you inquire about his life. You don’t see each other often, with you up in New York and him traveling over 300 days out of the year. “It’s a miracle you’re even here,” you joke.

Danny snorts, taking a sip of his own drink. “Couldn’t miss another family event, especially not since last month.”

Last month was his 10-year anniversary of joining the Bureau, a week after he turned 33. Your mother’s pride and joy, she’d gone all out, and had been infuriated when an hour into the party he’d been called to the office. And even while she was annoyed with his duties, she still took the time to go out of her way and inform both you and your sister, Jo, that “at least he has an important job.”

You laugh. “She was pissed.”

“Yeah, she called me later that day.”

“She called you? While you were at work?”

“Do you think she has any respect for my time?”

You raised your eyebrows, eyes wide in shock. “How can she possibly be so….not self-aware?”

“I have no clue.”

As though summoned by the mention of your mother, Jo enters the room, long blonde hair a mess around her face, red and puffy. She takes the spot next to you, grabs your champagne glass, and downs it. 

“Hi, Jo,” you and Danny say in unison, neither of you surprised.

“Mom’s being such a bitch,” she spits, wiping her eyes. On her left hand, you spot something shiny, and it takes a moment for you to register the huge diamond ring on her finger. Like you can read each other’s minds, you and Danny look at each other, back to the ring, and then back to each other. Danny’s mouth is wide open in an ‘O’, and Jo squints at him. “What, Danny?”

She notices you staring at her, too. “Guys. What? Can’t you see I’m obviously in distress?”

“With that ring? You should be the happiest woman on the planet, Jo,” Danny replies.

“Ugh.” Jo sniffles aggressively. “I can’t be happy when Mom is being so...judgemental! I mean, can’t she just be happy for me?”

“Wait, wait,” you interrupt, hands up in a ‘slow down’ motion. “Who gave you that ring?”

Your sister looks at you like that’s the dumbest question you’ve ever heard. Her face in this expression looks almost exactly like your mother’s, and it strikes a nerve deep down. “You don’t remember?”

“No.”

“Peter. From - “

“The guy from the coffee shop?” You’re completely surprised. Jo makes impulsive decisions, yes, but getting engaged to a guy she’s been on four dates with? That’s just plain reckless.

“Yes. He proposed last week.” She sniffles again, this time trying to seem at least a little more dignified. Chin high, she proclaims, “We’re in love.”

Danny sips his champagne, still completely caught off-guard. He has a small smile as he watches you say, “Jo, that’s fucking insane.”

Jo rolls her eyes. “You wouldn’t understand. You’re too young.”

Your brother laughs. “She’s only two years younger than you.”

“That’s two whole years of experience she doesn’t have.”

“You realize I’m not seventeen anymore, right, Jo? I’m an actual adult.”

“An adult with an actual job,” Danny points out.

“I have a job!” Your sister protests.

“What job? Oh, wait, you mean being a sugar baby, right? That’s your job?”

Jo glares at you. “That’s not fair, and you know it.”

You shrug and drink some more champagne. “I’m being honest.”

“You’re being mean.” “Oh my god, Jo. You’re the one getting married to a guy you’ve known for two months.”

“We’re in love!”

“You can’t possibly be in love!”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was talking to the expert of all things romantic! Please, O Great One, give me your opinion!”

You pressed your lips together tightly. “You’re not funny.”

“Oh, wait! I forgot,” Jo continues. “The Master of Love has a boyfriend.”

Your face heats up. You’d only told your mom you had a boyfriend so she would stop badgering you with questions about your love life. You hadn’t been thinking about the consequences, you’d just wanted to stop the questioning, and that had clearly backfired. “Mom told you that?”

Your sister smiles, seemingly satisfied with this secret knowledge. Danny, who’s been listening to the conversation with wide eyes, is grinning like a maniac behind his champagne flute. 

“Yes,” Jo says. “So, where is he?”

Scrambling internally, you frown. “He’s busy.”

“Probably spending Christmas with his family,” Danny cuts in. That is surprising - usually he’ll let Jo beat you down, and then show support later. And anyway, he doesn’t even know you’re lying about the boyfriend. “They’re probably ten times less dysfunctional.”

At the last word, Jo switches gears completely, snapping her head to look at Danny. “We’re not dysfunctional,” she hisses.

Your brother laughs in her face. “Yes, we are.”

As they begin to argue, you take this as your chance to escape. You leave your champagne on the island - alcohol will only make this worse, and you want to be somewhat lucid for dinner. On the bright side, the less you drink now, the more you can drink later. You make your way down the hall, stopping to look at the photos framed on the walls in a remarkably perfect design. Every Christmas card photo meticulously arranged from oldest to newest, below the childhood pictures. There are a few of Jo, with her beautiful curls and pearly-white teeth, playing lacrosse. Everyone’s high school graduation photos. Lots of photos of Danny, the eldest and golden child. His first birthday, his eighteenth birthday, first day in college, first Christmas back home, various pictures of him and your parents. Any picture including your dad is small and inconspicuously placed, so as not to draw attention to it.

Scattered between pictures of your siblings are the ones of you. They’re all smaller; the only large one is your high school cap and gown picture. And the others aren’t of your accomplishments - they’re of you at home, smiling, with a book, or building a snowman with your dad in the backyard. Tucked below a picture of Danny and one of his ex-girlfriends (Sandy, your mother’s favorite) and above Jo’s first varsity photo is your favorite. Your dad took it when you were fourteen, on an old camera, one that used film, and had developed it himself. You had gone to visit him in Oregon, the only one who’d wanted to go, and as a surprise, he’d taken you to the beach. Your hair is wet and sticking to your face, and you’re making a silly face - lips puckered, eyes crossed, hands at either side of your face like fish gills. It’s a decade old, and the memory has faded a bit in your mind, but you can still remember the way he laughed at you when he took the photo. “That’ll be a good one,” he’d proclaimed. “I’ll send it to you.”

That’s how it was every summer since then. You went off to stay with him in Oregon, and Jo stayed at home with your mother. Danny, seven years older than Jo and nine older than you, wasn’t involved, at that point - he was just joining the bureau. Nobody had batted an eye when your dad didn’t show up to the party last month. Him and Danny had never quite gotten along.So you spend June through August with him at Gold Beach. Just the picture brings to mind memories from the cottage; the summer your dad grew a beard; him bringing you to the touristy area, to a struggling record shop to let you pick out your first album. You still had it, tucked away in an old box of vinyls in the back of your closet at home. The Chain, Fleetwood Mac.

There was something surprising about your mom keeping this picture. She hated that you spent your summers with him. It wasn’t uncommon for her to blame your personality as an adult on those vacations with your dad, as though he was the reason you were a journalist, and not that he’d simply loved you for who you were, and given you the love and affection you’d needed. So the picture here, that was confusing. In fact, you’d thought for years she’d thrown it out, because she talked so often about how deeply she wishes she’d fought for full custody in the divorce. Why would she keep the picture?

There’s no way she kept it as a reminder of him. She’d never voluntarily keep something like that around.

So then, why does she have it?

“Do you have to wear that horribly offensive sweater?”

And there she is, the devil herself, shrill as ever. You turn to the end of the hall and find your mother there, in her favorite cream-colored dress. Her hair was in a bun, and you knew without even being close to her that she had wasted an incredible amount of hairspray on keeping it in place. She’s wearing the pearl earrings and necklace set Danny gave her for her birthday last year, and on her wrist was a surprise - the white watch you’d gifted her. 

“Hey to you too, Mom,” you greet, not dignifying the question with an answer. The best way to deal with her was to pretend you didn’t hear her little jabs.

“Honestly, Y/N, how do you expect us to have a peaceful dinner with my family when you’re wearing such blatantly tasteless clothing?” She approaches you and seems to be picking apart your appearance piece by piece. You expected no different. “Our family. And I know Leah and Mark will think it’s funny.” The only two cousins of thirteen that you can stand, Leah is Aunt Cindy’s only daughter, and Mark is her eldest son.

“What?” Genuine confusion etches itself into her features.

You raise an eyebrow. “Our family. I’m related to them, too.”

She snorts. “No, you take too much after Ryan’s family to be a Benson.” The mention of her last name, once her maiden name, presses a button for you. When they got divorced, Danny took your mom’s last name, and when Jo asked, she took her to city hall so she could change it back to Benson.You were the only child who kept your father’s last name.

“Technically, I’m half Benson, half L/N.”

���Mmm,” she hums noncommittally. “Sure. If that’s what you believe.”

You furrow your brows. “You gave birth to me.”

Smiling tightly, she says, “Babies have been switched at hospitals before.”

Completely taken aback, your jaw drops open, and she takes this chance to survey your teeth. “I see you’ve had dental work done since last month.”

You close your mouth tightly and frown. “Just a cleaning.”

She looks you up and down and once again offers nothing but a disingenuous “Sure.”

There’s a moment of awkward silence before your mother inhales sharply and asks, “Has Jo told you yet?”

“About the engagement?”

“Yes.” She is gritting her teeth so hard you’re sure she’s going to crack a molar.

“Yeah.”

“And your opinion?”

You shrug. “I think it’s royally stupid, but it’s her decision.”

This seems to satisfy her, because she nods and, after looking you up and down once more and confirming that you are not going to change your outfit, she heads past you, her heels clicking forcibly against the hardwood.

You exhale audibly when she is gone, the tension in your chest and back releasing slowly. Conversations with her are so tense you can hardly breathe, she takes up so much air.

Raised voices echo down the hall from the kitchen. You look uncomfortably in the direction the chaos is coming from. Forcing yourself to walk towards the room, you find yourself standing quietly in the entryway to the kitchen.

Jo and your mother are going at it again. Your sister’s face is red and puffy, she’s clearly been crying the entire time. Danny is sitting down at the dining room table, pouring himself yet another glass. You sigh, and there’s only one thing that comes to mind as you watch this scene unfold, your mother talking loudly and sternly to Jo, who is yelling and sobbing.

God, you hate it here.

---

You’ve been banished (read: released) to the store, to pick up eggs. And milk. But only almond milk, the soy kind. You’re not sure that exists, but whatever. Any chance to escape your mother’s house is a chance you’ll take.

This grocery store has been standing since before you were born. Your parents went to it, their parents went to it, and even their parents went to it. O’Malley’s General is over five decades old, and even worse -

As you enter through the old wooden door, you peer around at the inside of the store. Fruit and veggies are still on your left, the over-the-counter pharmaceuticals to your right. No different from when you were five.

“Y/N!” The man sitting at one of the two checkout desks to your left offers you a wide grin.

- it’s a family business. When you were younger, it was run by Dennis O’Malley, a charmer in every sense of the word. You, Danny, and Jo used to make fun of your mother every time she blushed at one of Dennis’ not-quite-well-meaning flirts.In the time you’ve been gone, Dennis must’ve died, because his usual spot at the foremost checkout counter, his rickety metal stool, is occupied by his son, Ryan. He’s your age, and it appears he never grew into his big front teeth. You offer him a wave as he sets down his magazine and makes his way over to you.

“Hi, Ryan,” you say, picking up a basket from the stack near the door.

He takes a place next to you as you head for the small refrigerators at the back of the produce section, where you know the milk and eggs are. “How are you? Feels like I haven’t seen you in years!”

You laugh politely, smile stretching thin. “Yeah, it’s been a little bit. I’m good.”

“Oh, that’s good.”

The awkward quiet stretches on. You open the glass door and look for the milk your mom asked for, almond soy milk, you’re sure that isn’t real but nonetheless -

“You look just as pretty as when I last saw you,” Ryan compliments, and you feel your stomach turn at the words. Even in high school he’d been this way, interested in you, watching you from across the cafeteria and sticking notes to your locker in passing periods. He’s a little too close, you realize as you turn to him. You can feel his hot breath on your face, and instantly you smell that he didn’t brush his teeth this morning. Your flesh crawls as you meet his eyes. “Thanks,” you offer slowly. Your eyes dart to find a way around him as you say, “Ryan, you’re a little too close to me.”

He doesn’t make an effort to give you any space - in fact, quite the opposite. He steps his right foot forward, moving at nearly the pace of molasses, and you feel your adrenaline spike when he reaches his hand out to feel the cloth of your ugly sweater, his touch suddenly turning to a death grip on the cotton. “We’ve been this close before,” he murmurs, and you panic.

Your hands come up to his shoulders and shove him away as hard as you possibly can. You succeed in pushing him away, partly, but his right hand is still gripping your sweater, anchoring him to you. His quiet demeanor dissolves into something resembling hurt as he pulls you closer to him, grabbing your other shoulder with his free hand -

The front door squeaks open. Ryan, distracted, turns to look at the door. You take this moment to finally shove him off of you, running around him. There’s another man standing at the front door, eyes flicking back and forth from you and Ryan. When you move to get past him, he appears to regain his senses, following you out of the store. 

“Wait! Are you okay?” He yells, and the sound of his voice stops you in your tracks.

You freeze in the middle of the sidewalk. There’s no way. There’s no way. You’re delusional. “Excuse me?” He asks again.

You turn slowly on your heels. He looks so concerned, his face contorted in the same way he used to frown when you’d fail a turn on the ice while practicing your routine. That worry, reminiscent of how he’d skate over and offer you a hand, pulling you up with a simple “Are you alright?”

You exhale, hard. There’s no sign of recognition on his face, no nostalgia, no recovered memories of an old friend. You’re having a freak coincidence right now, and the only other person who would understand has no idea who you are.

He walks over, his boots crunching rock salt as he surveys your face for wounds. “Can you hear me?”

Snap out of it.

You blink a couple times. Nod. Twice. “Yes, I’m sorry, yes, I’m okay.”

The friend smiles, but it’s confused, worried. “Do you need me to call 911, or…?”

“No,” you laugh. The noise catches both of you by surprise, but you can’t stop, dropping the basket, giggles shaking your body. The situation is a little comical, in all honesty - you’re stuck in your hometown with your dysfunctional family, you were practically just assaulted by someone who’s been in love with you since the eighth grade, and the boy you were once in love with doesn’t remember you. It’s like the plot of a Hallmark movie, if Hallmark movies were written by whoever writes Grey’s Anatomy.

You look up at him, and there’s that little chuckle of his, the one that lights up his whole face. He’s confused, yeah, but he’s got the right spirit. You clear your throat and extend your hand to him. “Thank you, really.”

He takes it gently. “Sure. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, definitely, thank you.” Releasing his hand, you pick up the basket from the ground. “I appreciate your concern, but I’m good.”

“Okay.” He’s still watching your face carefully. “You know what? Why don’t I accompany you home?”

Oh, no. No thank you. Not today. Not in my Hallmark movie.

“No thanks. I’ll be fine.”“Can I at least give you my number?”

You look at him incredulously. “Why?”

He shrugs. “So you can text me to make sure you got home okay.”

Your laugh is cold, abrupt. “Why would you care?”

“Because I just saw you get assaulted! Is it a crime to care about people?”

“No, but it’s weird to give your number to a stranger.”

“People do it all the time.”

“Oh, do they, really? Where?”

“Bars. Clubs. Parties.”

“We’re not in any of those places.”

He rolls his eyes with a smile, already whipping out his phone. “I’m Vince. Dunn.”

You laugh a little self-consciously. “Yeah, I know.”

Vince looks up from tapping his screen to raise his eyebrow at you. “You’re into hockey?”

“No. We went to school together.”

His eyes widen, first with shock. You see the initial confusion pass and become replaced by intense, sudden recognition. “Y/N?”

You grin broadly. “Long time no see.”

---

This absolutely wasn’t your fault.

You hadn’t ever expected him to go along with it, let alone offer himself up to help you. You’d merely been commiserating. Right, sharing your troubles with a friend. 

Vince takes you to brunch the next day, a welcome reprieve from your family. Your mother protests, but you’re only half-listening to her while you watch the read 9:13 am appear below your most recent text to him.

vince

La Fontaine is way overpriced. Let me show you a place

You smile and type back, what? so you can get me alone?

vince

Is it really so bad to want to spend time alone with an old friend?

vince

We haven’t seen each other in years, there’s no way you know any good breakfast places here

you

you remember that i grew up here, right?

vince

Sorry, how long’s it been since you’ve been here?

you

touche

you 

bastard

Vince

It’s within walking distance. I’ll meet you at Bailey’s at 10?

you

sounds like a plan

It’s good, to see him again. Your breath fogs the space in front of you, dissipating when you walk through it, your steps in perfect synchronization with Vince’s. He leads you down a back road that hadn’t existed when you were little and entertains you the whole walk with tales of his hockey shenanigans. You find yourself shocked that the Vince you knew as a child, the goofy kid that never quite fit in, is now a famous professional athlete. Time has changed him, too; he’s so mature now, with his good posture and manners. He holds the door open to a small diner off Quincy and Arlette, and you find yourself wondering if an alien kidnapped your childhood best friend and possessed his body.

When he starts talking is when you feel your heart begin to slip. The way he grins when he’s talking about his friends or his family or something stupid he’s done is breathtaking, his lips reaching his eyes. The way he throws his head back when he laughs, a deep, shaky noise, like if he’s too loud he’s going to break something.

So when he asks about your love life, you can’t help it. You open your mouth and words materialize on your lips without you even consciously forming them. You tell him everything, about your tragic love history and the way you felt when your mother asked snidely if you were going to bring a boy home for Christmas and the panic in your chest when you blurted “yes.”

And when your lip wobbles after you finish, he swears he can see tears beginning to prick at your eyes. Baby, he thinks - no, he feels the word in his heart, looking at you like this.It’s not your fault he offered himself up. He’s a grown man, he makes his own decisions, and he is the one who decided to pretend to be your boyfriend at Christmastime. In front of your family.

You’re just the one who’s going along with it.

---

“We should probably hold hands.”

The skin of his hands is rough, calloused, a sharp contrast to your soft touch. His palm feels so big against yours, the flat surface nearly dwarfing your whole hand, long fingers enclosed around yours. He bites his nails - you know from one glance at the chewed nubs of calcium.

“And hug,” he adds. “Couples hug.”

“Okay, fine, hugging, too.”

When his arms snake their way around your torso from behind, you become acutely aware of just how touch-starved you are. Every nerve ending is on fire, rocketing signals lightning-fast to your brain, adrenaline flooding your system. Your heartbeat quickens, and you know he feels it, the bastard, because your mother asks him what he’s smiling about, and he says “Nothing.”

You turn in his arms when she leaves, taking a step away from him. He looks mildly dismayed at the loss of your warmth but doesn’t comment on it. You lead the topic of conversation away from the hug.

“What about kissing?” Vince points out. “Couples kiss.”

Five.

That line has been ringing through his head all night. Every glimpse he catches of you, every tiny little look, makes the phrase rattle around his skull like a maraca of that one phrase.

When you catch his eye across the kitchen and make a funny face at him, a small gesture of togetherness in an atmosphere so cold and distancing.

“Couples kiss.”

Four.

When he rounds the corner to find the bathroom. You come around the opposite side at the same time and smack your face right against his chest, and when you pull back frantically you look up at Vince with a look of such pure apology he can’t help it.

“Couples kiss.”

Three.

You take his hand under the table at dinner. You don’t even really know why - it’s a strangely intimate gesture - but you see it through, your small hand resting gently on top of his.He flips his hand over so you can lace your fingers through his.

“Couples kiss.”

Two.

You huff, considering him.

“Only if it’s an absolute emergency.”

New Year’s isn’t an emergency, Vince knows. He knows New Year’s is actually the exact opposite of an emergency, nothing important, and if he could, he’d walk away. At least, he pretends he would.

But he can’t, because your siblings are egging him on, face-to-face with you. 

“Couples kiss.”

“Only if it’s an absolute emergency.”

“An absolute emergency.”

“Couples kiss.”

“Emergency.”

“Only if it’s an absolute emergency.”

He knows New Year’s isn’t an emergency and he knows he could just brush Danny and Jo off but the light is framing you so perfectly, and the way you smile at him so earnestly - his brain is shaking like a pinball machine but he doesn’t have time to consider that so he kisses you.

One.

He kisses you.

Your lips are sweet against his. You taste like sugar, he notices.

And then you pull away and make an excuse to use the restroom again and while Jo and Danny screech congratulations and celebrations at him. The champagne glass in his hand feels empty, and the hand he had tangled in your hair only seconds ago feels like it’s burning.

Couples kiss.

---

When you press the hastily-wrapped present into his hands, you won’t meet his eyes. It’s days after that kiss, that goddamned mistake, and you’re so shaky you can barely keep it together. The sight of you in such an uncomfortable state in Vince’s presence hits him in the heart and causes a deep knot to settle in his stomach. 

Idiot.

“I know we said no presents,”

“We’re not a couple,” you said. “You don’t have to get me anything.”

“But I think you deserve at least one. For putting up with my family.”

“What if I want to get you something? As friends?”

He offers his best normal smile. “You didn’t have to,” he says. A car horn blasts from somewhere near.

You scowled at him, but he just continued. “I can get presents for my friends.”

It’s ironic that he’s the one who asked to give presents but here you are, with a present, and here he is, empty-handed.

The silence is awkward.“Well,” you say. “Have a good trip.”

You’re turning to leave when his hand grips your upper arm, holding you in place. You move your gaze to meet his, and before you can say anything, he says,

“Hey.” His eyes are boring holes into yours. You feel goosebumps litter your skin when he says, “Happy New Year.”

“Thank you,” you murmur, and he lets you go.

He lets you go.

---

The box weighs heavy in his lap. The car moves with every bump in the road, and with each jolt he feels the cardboard corners, wrapped in patterns of reindeer faces and Santa’s smile, pressing into his legs. The sharp, quick pain is a constant reminder, and it makes him think of you. Even the wrapping paper is so stereotypically you, obviously something you grabbed from the back of your closet or (more likely) borrowed from a neighbor or classmate. He could see it now, the way you asked with a smile if they had any ugly wrapping paper, the confusion on their face as you lit up when they said, yeah, why? You delighted in the stupid pattern, so busy that he could barely focus on just one aspect. And you’d certainly picked a black Sharpie to write his name, knowing full well it’d easily be lost in the mottled colors and insane patterns. The way you wrote Vince, in that unique combination of print and cursive, like you couldn’t decide - again, so predictably you. He traces the big V with his index finger, picturing you in your apartment, on the floor, taking special care to write his name this way, on the top where he would at least have a chance of seeing it. Your hair falling into your face, hand gripping the pen and being oh-so-meticulous about the way you wrote it, his name, not wanting it to be too big, but not too small either. Just the right size to grab his attention.

Of course you would.

And you’d have known that he would hate to tear open the paper, to rip something with so much significance to him. He flips the box over and finds the taped-over seam. There has to be a way to undo this without ruining the wrapping, he knows, so he picks at the tape gently, taking care not to destroy the delicate paper. The taping is perfect, because you, obviously, couldn’t handle anything else. It spans the exact length of the box, no more, no less; you’ve always been a perfectionist.

He manages to unwrap the box with only one or two tiny tears and feels a tiny moment of pride immediately eclipsed by the desire to know what, exactly, you’ve given him for Christmas. He flips it over to find the top once more and does so successfully. The top flaps of cardboard are folded over each other without any tape, and he remembers begging you to teach him how to do this when you were kids, making presents for the teachers at your school. You never did.

He pulls one of the tabs and, like magic, the whole top undoes itself. Inside, there’s another small box with what he assumes are polaroids, two tiny boxes next to each other, a wrapped present in the shape of a book, all placed meticulously on shredded filler paper. Delicately taped on top of the book-shaped item is an envelope.

On the front, Vince, in your script. Of course.

Something about the box smells familiar, so he brings the envelope to his nose, closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath. The scent of your favorite perfume, the one you wear constantly, your lucky charm (as you’ve informed him several times), floods his senses, and he nearly cries at the nostalgia that fills his heart. His whole body aches with pain, begging him, make the Uber driver turn the car around, run back.

He doesn’t.

Instead, he opens the envelope carefully. Inside is a stack of papers folded together several times, small enough to fit the package. He can’t help but smile at the long, flowing script you use when you write on loose-leaf, when you’re feeling emotional. Again the way you write has his heartstrings tugging. He isn’t a crier, usually, but for you he makes an exception. For you tears gather in his eyes, threatening to break and bury him. For you he feels, feels so deeply and painfully he doesn’t know if he can manage to read more than Dear Vince because it might kill him, the aching in his heart and the begging in his hands. The memory of you is poised for destruction in his mind and he can’t help but wonder if you’d known this is what you could do to him, this was the power you held over his life.

Dear Vince, that fatal first line reads.

Dear Vince.

[vanchlo]

Gatsby (Green Eyes / 3)

Read the first part, here, and the second part, here! :-)

Blurb Synopsis: With a few months of teaching under your belt, at times you find yourself struggling. Luckily, your boyfriend and teaching colleague, Harry, is there to help you by offering advice or a comforting kiss. Although you’ve only been dating for a few months, you find that there's something special about this man.

Genre: Teacher Harry, fluff, and romance.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 10.4k words, whoops 

Pairing: Harry x Reader

Music Inspo: Happy Together by The Turtles (click to listen) 

Your mind is muddled with thoughts. Remember to send this email today. Make sure to put this in so-and-so’s mailbox. Don’t forget to send that birthday card in the mail. Can’t misplace that sheet you have to make copies of tomorrow for an assignment. Enter those grades. Grade those tests, and those papers. They weren’t wrong, you think, when they said the work of a teacher never ends. As you sit at your desk, the world war two novel you’ve been trying to read lately stares back at you from the sidelines, adding another stick to your pile. A rather massive pile, at that. You knead your temple as the blinking cursor awaits your words on the lit screen. Words that you don’t have yet, and aren’t sure when you will. You’ve found it more and more difficult to send the hard emails home to parents, and even after three and a half months under your belt of teaching, it hasn’t gotten any easier. 

“What’d I say ‘bout bitin’ yer nails?” 

Breaking your stare off with your computer, your eyes jump to your door where you find Harry standing there. 

Placing your chin in your propped hand, you sigh, “I’m sorry.”

“Here, ya look like ya need sumthin’ else t’ chew on,” he murmurs, taking a step into your classroom. Something leaves his hand to fly into the air, skidding to a stop in front of you on your desk. At the sight of the shiny gold wrapper marked by the words, Twix, you return to his eyes with a smile. “Now, wha’s got ya so nervous, bird?”

“I’m trying to write an email home, and not a happy one.”

“Ah, I hate havin’ t’ write t’ose meself, they’re neva easy. Can I help?” he inquires, taking slow steps into your classroom. When your laptop sounds with a chime!, the alert for a new email, your eyes leave his tall figure. 

His question goes unanswered on accident with the appearance of the email loading before your eyes. The words start to trickle into your mind, and with their absorption, the heaviness felt in your heart grows. 

“Hullo? Anybody home in there?” Harry laughs, his feet stopping in front of your desk. You don’t answer, and you barely see him lean to the side to look at you. “Hey, wha’s tha matta?” he questions, his tone suddenly changing. Gulping, no words come to you as the ones on your screen shoot icy fear into your veins. Your name falls from his mouth as he walks over to you, stopping behind you. 

“I have to be observed,” you groan, your face falling into your hands. “Later this week,” you finish with a whimper, your shoulders sagging. 

“Oh it’ll be okay, love. We all have it done once a year, ‘s only t’ benefit ya. ‘s fer feedback. Ya don’t gotta worry. Principal’s observation ‘s at tha end o’ tha year,” he tells you, his soothing voice turning irritating at the last part. You respond with a whine, but you find that you can’t remain upset with him when his arms come around you. “Ya’ll do great, bird. Don’t fret. I know things have been stressful lately fer ya, so try not t’ let it botha you.”

“But it does. I already feel like I’m not doing a good enough job, and then somebody has to observe me, ugh. I’m going to be so nervous that I’ll probably screw up even more,” you exhale, hiding away from your fears, but soon you feel your chair spin around. Tearing your hands away from your face, you open them to find Harry squatting in front of you. 

The mere sight of the dimples in his cheeks and the glint in his eye eases the tension felt throughout your body. A second later, you’re unsure of that when your sight graces the ebony dress shirt rolled up his taut arms, and the mustard slacks hugging his thighs. Yeah, there are a whole lot of reasons to make you feel tense around this man, and on the other hand he makes you feel at ease. Talk about confusing, when one thing has both effects on you. Ugh. 

“Yer too hard on yerself, birdy. Ya gotta stop it, I don’t like seein’ me girl feel so down,” he hums, his thumb painted in cracking hot pink nail polish tapping your nose. Even just the thought of how he’ll let you paint his nails the next time he comes over to your house makes you feel better. By now, he doesn’t even bat an eye when you ask him, and by the look of his battered nails, anticipation grows inside of you at the thought. “Now, why don’t ya try t’ forget ‘bout tha observation, and lemme help ya write tha email t’ tha parent? Then we can leave and ya can come ova t’ mine, and I can cook ya a nice dinna.” 

His lips split into a smile in front of you, sparking one on your own. “Has anybody ever told you that you’re the best boyfriend in the world?”

“Hmmm, I dunno, maybe. I can’t recall, but I wouldn’t complain t’ hear dat a few more times,” Harry smiles, leaning forward to surround your lips with his. Yours curl into a smile as his fingers dance across your cheek and into your hair. 

“Harry, the email,” you begin after breaking the kiss. 

“Shh, lemme have a kiss first. ‘s been too long,” he almost laughs, pressing his lips back to yours.

“I saw you in sixth hour in the copier room and you got one then,” you interrupt, knowing that you’re getting on his nerves. 

“Too long,” is all he says impatiently, replacing his lips on top of yours. 

Relaxing, you move yours together with his and soon find your hands running along his cheeks prickly with facial hair. They run down the expanse of his warm neck, his tamed beard soon fading away. Pads of your fingers collide with the chain of his necklace hidden under his shirt, signaling you’re almost there. You let a grin slip, impeding the kiss, when you can feel his taut chest under his button up. Finally.

“Like what yer findin’?” he asks, laughing against your mouth. 

“Mmmhmm,” you answer slyly, peeking open your eyes to find his on yours, mere inches away. “Maybe we should write dat email now. Don’t wantcha gettin’ too carried away now,” Harry hums pulling away, much to your disappointment. “No, yer not gonna get me with tha pout again, so dontcha try it now.” He wags a finger at you as his words play on his face. Feeling risky, you reach forward and bite at the tip of it, smelling the cinnamon lotion he has a bottle of on his desk. 

“Ya betta watch it, bird!” Harry chuckles, the smile taking grasp of him now, as well as the laugh that sings to your ears. 

“Or else what?” you reply, wiggling your eyebrows at him. 

“Open yer email befo’ ya convince me with that adorable face o’ yers.”

You ignore him and continue to stare at him, happiness and longing showing in your eyes. You’re certain that he sees it too, you’re just not sure what he’s going to decide to do with it. His bottom lip comes between his teeth as his green eyes stare into yours, him standing only a step away from you. Although it’s the slightest movement, his hands starts to trail from the back of your chair. 

“Birdy,” he begins with a warning, shaking his head at you, that song leaving his strawberry lips again. Suddenly, you wish he was wearing a tie today so you could grab a hold of it and pull him in by it, but alas he’s without one today. “Don’ test me.”

His words are hypocritical, meaning one thing as his face tells you another story entirely. Somehow, they have the opposite effect on you, egging you to go further with the teasing. You enjoy pushing his buttons, another thing that he knows far too well by now. Your fingers sitting limp on your legs itch to touch him, and roam his body. Those curls, his bearded cheeks, that muscular chest, or those thick arms. Maybe even all of him. 

“We can have a good snog at me house tha sooner we get dis done,” Harry cautions, only worsening the pout forming on your lips. He reacts to it promptly, with that lip-biting returning, and his fist coming to his mouth. As if he has to refrain from saying, or doing, something. 

“Why can’t I just have one more now? It won’t hurt,” you plead, letting your chin fall a tad, allowing you to look up at him through your lashes. 

“‘m in real trouble with ya, aren’t I, birdy? Go’mme wrapped ‘round yer li’l finga like there’s no t’morrow, dontcha?” Harry teases, slowly leaning in, his arms bending at his wrists where they lay planted to your chair’s armrests. 

“Yeah, just the way you like it,” you note aloud, the anticipation buzzing in your gut as he draws near. 

“Yer right ‘bout dat, darlin’. Couldn’t say no t’ ya if I tried, thinkin’ that might ge’mme in trouble one o’ these days,” Harry finishes with a snicker before the taste of oranges meets your lips, and his beard is tickling your skin. Just the way you like it. 

* 

“Ravioli or pasta?” you hear float from the kitchen. 

It’s a wonder you hear him as your thoughts are consumed by his bookshelves. Although you’ve been to his place several times now, you’re still enamored by trying to familiarize yourself with the items he chose to live with him. 

The acoustic Taylor sitting in the corner on a stand. The Monet prints dotting his walls, along with those of The Stones, The Beatles, Fleetwood Mac, and Pink Floyd. The pink ukulele hung on his wall that he made you laugh with while playing a rendition of Somewhere Over The Rainbow the first time you came over. You swear that his blankets are the coziest and warmest. He also makes the best fires in the fireplace, even making s’mores for dessert the first time you came over, making quite the impression. The last time, you had devoured his record collection, flipping through it and playing the few that interested you at the time. You even like the silly napkins with sayings on them that he has in the kitchen. Now, you’ve returned to his book collection that seems to grow by a few each time you’re here. 

“Why do you have Shel Silverstein here, but not at school?” you call out to him, feeling the change in texture of the book spines, the tip of your finger ghosting over them. 

“‘Coz tha’s a copy from when I was li’l. Now, ya didn’t answer me question. Which d’ya want me t’ make, bird?” he replies gently, his deep voice carrying down the hall from the kitchen. 

Once again, his words drift by unnoticed as you carefully remove a copy of a novel that catches your eye, The House on Mango Street. You’ve found it before on his shelves at school, and the cover has always enraptured you, but you’ve never found the time to pick it up. Turning it over, your eyes flit over the description on the back of the thin book. 

“Hey, ‘m talkin’ t’ ya, birdy,” a voice murmurs, their words dancing across your neck with a tickle. “Tryin’ t’ figure out what t’ make us fer dinna.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry. I was just looking at this book. I’ve always meant to see what it’s about,” you comment, turning your head back ever so slightly, but you don’t need to do that to know he’s there. His arms have surrounded your waist and his beard tickles against your temple, lips soon dotting kisses along that space. 

“‘s okay. Ah, so this ‘s where yer always runnin’ off t’ when ya come ova. Got meself a book worm fer a girlfriend, I like it. Findin’ anythin’ good? Ya know ya can borrow whateva ya want, love. I know ya’ll take good care o’ it,” Harry coos in between feathery pecks he plants down the side of your face. “‘s a good one too, bird. I teach it every year. Tha students enjoy it too. Ya might come t’ teach it too, I think, since we’re both teachin’ American Lit. this semester,” Harry comments, soon his nose making an appearance tickling your cheek. The words on the back of the book were beginning to blur before your eyes, but they’re forgotten altogether when his fingers brush against your belly, clasping together there. 

“Thank you. I suppose I should read it already then.”

“Yeah, ‘m surprised ya haven’t already. Borrow it and take yer time with it, ya’ll enjoy it. ‘s a bit sad tho’ from what I rememba. Now, ravioli or pasta? Was thinkin’ a salad on tha side, marinated chicken, and sum berries,” he finishes, the safety his arms provide you with soon fleeting. Looking over your shoulder, he walks away and back to the kitchen, noting that he needs to get the pasta water boiling. 

As your eyes trail to his bum round in his gray jogging shorts, a cheeky answer begs at your lips instead. He pipes up again with an inquisitive ‘well’ and your response falls from your lips, “Ravioli, please.”

He hums a confirmation from his new perch down the hall, the sounds of cupboards opening and things being jostled around soon following. The rest of the book’s summary passes your eyes before you set it down on the arm of the brown sofa, forgotten as soon as he had walked in. Passing Harry’s favorite reading chair in the corner accompanied by a tall lamp, you tiptoe through the narrow hallway marked by framed pictures on the walls. You hear his soft singing as you round the corner, happening upon his towering figure to your left, standing at the stove. Taking a page from his book, you slide across the wooden floor in your socks, quickly capturing him with your arms. 

“Boo!” you whisper into his ear, feeling him jump in your arms. 

“Don’t scare me like that, coulda burned me hand,” he warns, but when you chance a look at the pot of water below him, you find him to be a fibber. 

“You don’t even have the gas on yet, silly,” you murmur in argument, dragging your nose along his freckled neck, paler from the winter months. 

“So? ‘m tryin’ t’ cook here,” he argues, although terribly, because a giggle escapes his candy-like lips. Ones you very much would like to kiss right now, and perhaps taste, and nibble. Nodding into his shoulder, your hands unravel to explore the toned expanse of his stomach under his shirt. “Bird,” he says firmly, the cracking sound of the salt grinder following his words. 

“I’m just helping you cook,” you explain feebly, brushing the pad of your thumb against his wispy happy trail. If you focus hard enough, you think you can remember from the times at the beach where his tattoos are, because they don’t feel any different to the rest of his skin. The fern leaves, the butterfly, and then the swallows below his collarbone. 

“Yer pushin’ me buttons again. Ya know I don’ like it,” Harry grumbles, trapped within your grasp when he turns to grab the package of refrigerated ravioli from the counter. 

“I’m sorry, can’t I just hug my boyfriend?” you whine, feeling your voice catch at that last word, even after two months. 

“Don’t play that game with me, go read yer book or sumthin’. Catch up on sum gradin’, you’ll thank yerself later fer doin’ so, and me.”

“You’re no fun,” you whimper, hands stilling amongst his toned abdomen and soon returning to your body. Cheekily, you give in to your temptations and pinch his bum hastily, running off with a giggle. 

“Birdy!” Harry calls after you, trying to hide the laugh in his voice, but you’re doing enough laughing for the both of you. You don’t hear the sound of his booming footsteps following you, and so you plop onto his sofa with a relieving sigh. “Remind me not t’ give ya more than two glasses o’ wine, ya get all weird afta two.” 

“I do not!” you exclaim, pressing the power button on the remote for his tv. 

“Ya do too! Grabbin’ me bum and gettin’ all handsy unda me shirt,” he contends with a scoff that dissolves into a titter. You respond with a ‘hmmph’ loud enough for him to hear as your head hits the velvet pillow at one end of the sofa, body splaying out to cover the rest. 

“I’ll say it again, you’re no fun!”

“Oh, give it a rest!” is all Harry says disbelievingly, meanwhile you pout as you try to immerse yourself in an episode of The Simpsons. 

It’s one of those Halloween specials, you’re not sure which one as there were several, even though Halloween was very nearly two months ago. Turning up the volume, you try to drown out the sound of pots banging together, and packages crinkling. You even attempt to mask the sound of his voice, the wine buzz securing you in your own little bubble, and a lonely one at that. 

“Babeeee,” you finally hear, along with the soft padding of his slippers nearing you. “Don’ be a crab, y’know I don’ like bein’ botha’d when ‘m cookin’ sumthin’ hot. Don’ want t’ get eitha o’ us burnt. I’d do tha same if I had kids and they were ‘round,” he mumbles, his footsteps coming to a pause, and so does your heart at the sound of his words. 

“Me li’l birdy,” Harry coos in a sing-song voice, the whine of the ancient wood floors marking his arrival. His calloused fingertips along your forehead and through your hair are difficult to ignore, as are his sweet lips smelling of Roscato against your skin. “Don’ be upset with me please, ya know I can’t handle it. Ya wanna come help me cook? You can chop up tha salad if ya’d like, well as long as yer hands are okay afta those glasses o’ wine.”

“Nah-ah,” you deny, rubbing your face with your hand, growing sleepy from the alcohol. “You don’t want my help, and I’m all dizzy.”

“I do want yer help, that’s why I asked. Hmm, dizzy, are you?” he queries, drawing your attention upwards to where he kneels beside the sofa, head hanging over yours. “Does this make ya dizzy too?” he grins upside down for you, pressing a quick kiss to your mouth. A smile hints at yours after the kiss ends, him raising an eyebrow. 

You shake your head ‘no’ and he clucks his tongue, dipping in for another kiss, this one longer than the last. You’d choose to grow dizzy from his intoxicating lips over anything else, again and again. The bite of the alcohol follows the sweetness of the white wine he had poured you both glasses of, his still being nursed in the kitchen. The chill to his pillowy lips is shocking against your warm lips, but it’s forgotten when your fingers drift to his hair. You’ve only gotten a taste of his scrumptious top lip before he pulls away, having kissed you in an odd way, upside down. 

“Ya still upset with me?” he breathes against your lips, rubbing his nose against yours ever so slightly, a smirk edging at his lips. 

“I won’t be after one more kiss, and a cuddle,” you insist, testing your limits, but by now you’re fairly certain what you can get away with. Sometimes it surprises you how much, from stealing his favorite pen from his desk, grabbing his butt in the breakroom, knicking a sweater from his closet the last time you were over, or spamming him with texts of songs he wouldn’t ever listen to but he still does, for you. 

  “Alrighty then, c’mere, birdy,” he smiles before he melts against you in a kiss, once again. 

Soon, he’s scooping his arms under your legs and settling you on his lap, sinking into the sofa. Your head finds a home below his collarbone, legs draped across his lap and your bum hanging off the side of it. 

“I forgot ya get all tired on me afta alcohol. I gotta rememba t’ only dole it out when tha sun ‘s still up,” he giggles, the sound reverberating around in his broad chest under his Paul McCartney & Wings shirt. His fingers surround one of your hands, holding it to his chest as his other cups your waist where he holds you against him. 

“Yeah,” you mumble softly, trying to focus on the tv show, but it’s a lost cause. 

With his refreshing citrus smell enveloping you, the notes of the tangy orange he eats by sections every day clings to his skin somehow. Dreamily, you admire his neat beard for the hundredth time, smiling adoringly at the little patches he hates that don’t grow in all of the way. For some reason, you love them even more, wondering what his cheeks look like underneath all of the dark brunette hair. 

The show is forgotten at the recesses of your mind, and instead, your attention revolves around Harry, much to your surprise. The rhythmic rising and falling of his chest. The scattering of ink covering both arms, top to bottom. The dark curly hair donning his chest if you nudge the collar of his shirt down far enough. Even the steady beating of his heart grabs your focus, leading you to the slight pause and wake of it at the corner of his neck. Perhaps your most favorite of all is a hard tie between watching the execution of his facial features, or playing with his hands. One he minds quite more than the other, but you think he’s starting to get used to it. 

Your fingers that look puny in contrast to his run over the minuscule hairs peppered across his knuckles, yet another trait of his you adore. It’s rare there’s one you’ve found of his that you don’t enjoy immensely. They fall against his, feeling the lukewarm metal decorating his fingers, and he doesn’t even pause. Scooting your eyes away from his hands quickly, you try to forget the inviting veins bulging from his skin you so often like to get lost tracing. They flit now to the almost indiscernible dimples caving into his hairy cheeks, eyes gleaming as he titters at something on the tv. It all ends much too soon and you’re caught in the act, his gaze falling to yours. 

“Whatcha lookin’ at me fer?” he wonders aloud, the space between his brow creasing. You resist rubbing it free, finding you don’t have the time to when his lips press a kiss to your nose. “Water’s boilin’, I should go start tha chicken. Ya can help if ya want, but ya don’t hafta, love. Don’ want ya cuttin’ those pretty li’l fingas o’ yers.”

A nod suffices for your imaginary words, and so does the curling of your lips that part, “I like you,” you mumble, eyes glued to him, much like a puppy dog. 

“I like ya too, birdy. Quite arguably tha best thing that’s happened t’ me in a while, you are,” he rasps, voice dripping of honey at the arrival of his words. The look painting his face tells you that he knows it too, and you can taste the honey when he pecks you. “Like ya so much I can’t believe it sumtimes.” 

*

You both knew within the first week of school that having your prep hour during the same time in fifth hour, although coincidental, was perhaps not a good idea. It was uncertain whether the demons of the world or the angels of it had arranged this, seeing as you soon distracted each other from getting much prep done for that day’s lessons, grading, what have it. The both of you got on each other’s nerves regarding it at times, him more so than you, but you’re rest assured you both were grateful for it. 

Like today, you can’t stop jiggling your knee as you listen to Chopin while grading papers on the interpretable meanings of the scarlet A from The Scarlet Letter. Harry had gotten quickly upset with you yesterday when you had hogged too much of his prep hour with kissing and talking, noting that he had already been interrupted by another colleague. Today, you’re trying to give him his space to get his work done, but you find it exhausting staying away from him, much like you always do, and have to already. The temptation is even worse when he’s less than fifty steps away, and with those lips that should be downright illegal. His snap at you still stung, if only a little, and you can’t find your focus seeing that you’ve hardly seen him around today. 

Sometimes you feel pathetic and he’ll joke that you are too, melting into a puddle like The Wicked Witch of the West from not having seen him enough. You know that you are, but the realization doesn’t make you feel any better. Neither do you when a second later, speak of the devil, you hear his voice outside your ajar door. It mingles with another, and this one mentions your name, you’re rather sure. Harry shushes the other person with a laugh, and when the voices have paused, you return your gaze to the marked-up paper you’re grading. Turning up the music on your desktop, you sigh as you start reading the sentence over again, for the third time. 

*

Relief buds at the tips of your limbs as you gather your things from your desk around quarter to four, positive Harry’s after-school Poetry Club should be over by now. It’s stolen away as your fingers dangle on the handle of the door, his door closed with his nifty store-like sign turned to CLOSED. Sighing, your face creases into a messy line at the sight of it, your fingers soon composing a text to him that goes unanswered. 

Looking both ways down the hall, when the coast is clear, your heels click across the hall to place you at his door. Again, it’s unlocked to allow the custodial staff to come and clean soon. Bingo! Blanketed in darkness, few streams of light make their way in past the new snow blanketing the campus grounds. You don’t need much light anyways, and after setting your things down on a desk, you settle in his chair. The squeaks are almost all the way out of it, you notice, as you pull on the chain to the vintage green lamp at the corner of his desk. A new addition. Albeit a few scattered pens and lists, it looks much the same since the last time you were in his classroom. You quickly find a pad of Post-Its, green this time, and a pen that’s a fun color. Licking your lips with an excited smile, the sadness of missing Harry is abated by getting the chance to sneak a note onto his desk, which you’ve found is far harder to do these days. You leave with a smirk donning your lips, and a few Bit-O-Honeys to tide you over until the next time.

Harry,

Do you have any plans this Saturday? I might know a certain girl who is planning on making homemade pizza, and who thought you might enjoy it. If you’d like to, I can let her know and pass your name along. I’ve heard she’s a rather good chef, just don’t get too many glasses of wine into her, or else she turns into a real fruit loop. 

P.S. I wish there were words for how I feel about you, but being the English nerds we are, I think that gives you a little advantage to understand once I find those words. Have a great day, my love.

Your Birdy 

xoxoxo

*

Huffing, you stab at the button again, but you still receive the same error message from the copying machine. Forgetting it, you log out before turning around, which wasn’t a great idea either, you find. A quiet squeal leaves your lips when you find Harry standing in front of you, grinning at his success from scaring you. 

“A li’l jumpy this mornin’, are we?” he smirks, sliding his covered arms into the pockets of his gray slacks. 

“Yeah, you could say that, and the copier hates me this week,” you return, walking past him and over to the shelf of supplies in containers. 

“Oh, ya can use me code if that helps. Maybe it senses ya hate it,” he giggles, now behind you. Your nod suffices for a response as you drag your fingers through the sea of pens, searching for one color. 

“Thanks, I appreciate it. Ugh, there’s never any red pens when I need one,” you sigh, annoyed. 

“Ya know ya can take one from me stash anytime ya need,” he insists, humming a tune as he taps his foot. You mumble another small ‘thanks’ before moving onto another container. 

“Hey, why ya bein’ all shy?” he inquires, his gentle fingers soon encircling your wrist, turning you to face him. Again, you wonder how he can look more handsome every day, even in a dorky gray pull over vest with a cream button up underneath. 

“You said we can’t do PDA in school.”

“‘s tha copier room and nobody else ‘s here, bird. ‘s fine, y’know that by now,” he argues, pulling you into his arms easily, manipulating you like soft clay. Trying and failing to hide a frown, his brow knits together in confusion. “Why ya bein’ all weird, hmm? Gonna tell me?”

“You don’t let me come and bother you during our preps anymore. You got all mad at me,” you confess blearily, letting your head come to rest on his shoulder. Hastily, you remove it and leave his arms, sure somebody will walk in the door at the least convenient second. 

A laugh sings from his lips as he follows you, winding an arm around your waist. His lips are soft against your cheek, the stubble framing it becoming normal to you by now, although a scratchy nuisance. Now, he’s made his way to stand in front of you, blocking you from the packs of Crayola markers you were eyeing up for a project. 

“‘m sorry I got mad, okay? Jus’ had loads o’ stuff t’ get done, knew I shouldn’t have snapped at ya, tho.’ I regret it now . . . . Will ya forgive me?” he begs, sticking out his bottom lip, making him even more irresistible and delectable. Shiny curls fall over his forehead from his mousy hair that’s shorter on the sides after his recent cut. 

After checking the door, you surprise his lips with an all-forgiving smooch, welcomed by the bitter taste of black coffee on his lips. Like always, it draws to an end far too soon, and this time by the tinny ringing of the first bell. 

“Betta get goin’, bird. Don’ wanna be late,” he teases, brushing his nose against yours. A short yelp escapes your lips when his hand squeezes your ass before he saunters off after another kiss. 

“Harry,” you mutter, shaking your head, squeezing his hand briefly before you enter the halls together. 

Although you’ve become accustomed to it, it still feels strange to slide on another mask once you step into the halls. Sometimes even the school. You feel them and you know they’re there, the stares from the students. The rumors buzzed around the beginning of the year about you and Harry, but with his help, they never got to you. Neither of you have ever confirmed anything to anybody, and luckily you haven’t had to so far, even amidst the continuing rumors. 

Nonetheless, you still share with the other the stories of your students teasing the both of you about dating the other. You only fed the fire when you dressed up together for Halloween, or when your classes often combined together in the computer lab or library, or on the rare occasions, they have a large Jeopardy game or group project together. More often than you like to admit, you get carried away and entertain the freedom that would come with being able to say ‘yes’ to your students when they ask if you’re together. That would only call for one occasion, though. One that is quite far down the future road. As your eyes wander along Harry, a couple months in and you can’t deny that this isn’t just another boyfriend. No siree. 

“What d’ya got on tha agenda t’day, love? Ya startin’ anythin’ befo’ break?” he asks you, pulling you from your reverie, probably for the best. 

“No, we’re wrapping up the unit this week before testing next Monday on the last day. The Scarlet Letter, Frankenstein, Grammar Do’s and Don’ts, and the Transcendentalist Writers,” you explain, folding your hands together and letting them fall to the waist of your long wine-colored dress. Dark tights hug your legs, but the spotty heating inside of the school makes you miss the black cardigan sitting at your desk. 

“Mmm, same here. ‘s a good day t’ do it, can’t really introduce anythin’ befo’ Christmas Break. They’ll all forget it by tha time they return in two weeks. We jus’ have a chapta left in most classes: Hemingway, To Kill A Mockingbird, Huck. Finn, and Robert Frost,” he comments, hands hidden away in his slacks. Often you’re grateful for it, the removal of the temptation for you. Then again, it tempts your eyes that like to dance across the tightness of his slacks, but you quickly avert them.

“That’s good, only three more school days counting today, and one more until my observation,” you huff, finding it arduous to keep the nerves surrounding the event at bay. 

“You’ll do fine, love, I keep tellin’ ya that. Ya gotta believe me one o’ these times,” Harry coos, coming to a stop when you round the corner, your classrooms only a few steps away. To your surprise, his long fingers spread warmth across your skin with a pat to your arm, a rare one at that. “Have a good day, don’ let tha kids get t’ ya yet. Only a few days left. ‘ll talk t’ ya later.”

“Thanks, I hope you have a good day too,” you echo, containing the smile you send him halfheartedly, always careful about how you act towards each other around students. He winks at you quickly before turning away with that delightful smile playing around his lips, making you wonder how long again until you can kiss them. 

*

His luscious curls make your fingers itch to touch them, but as you linger in your doorway watching him, you know that you’ll have to wait. After biding your time for a few seconds for the students to leave him after receiving help, with a mental shrug you decide you’ll wait. Soon, you find yourself in the office. Colleagues meander around the room, the secretary speaks on the phone, and a parent or two or waits for them. After a few smiles and greetings, you arrive at your mailbox. First, you pluck the bag of Bit-O-Honeys from your pocket, sticking them in his box with a note already taped to them. After fishing out the few papers sitting in there, your hand brushes against something on the bottom, but you don’t see anything when you look again. With a quirked brow, you stand on your tippy toes, spotting a lime green Post-It note stuck to the bottom piece of wood. A smile quickly consumes your face as you pluck it from there, sticking it to the first paper on top of your pile, not wanting to raise any kind of suspicion. You and Harry do your best to be extra careful, not wanting to give anybody a reason to pry, and by now you’re both positive nobody has any true reason to doubt your story. 

Your heels dig into the sides of your feet after your long day, making you quicken your pace back to your classroom. The frown creasing your features is soon replaced with that grin from before when you turn into your classroom, finally taking a peek at the note. 

Birdy- 

You’re not very good at this whole Christmas list thing, are you? I’m still wondering what you’d like. Mind helping a silly old man out before the holiday rolls around? I hope your day is going swell. Don’t hesitate to come and say hi during prep, you know you’re always welcome. You’re the best kind of distraction, you’re just a little too good at it sometimes ;) You’re looking too gorgeous in that dress today, and so I’ll need you to stop by so I can give you a proper snog in private, pronto. 

Harry xxxx

P.S. - Homemade pizza sounds lovely, I can’t wait. You spoil me (: 

P.P.S - You have no idea how much you mean to me, bird xo

“Verdict on tha possibility o’ that snog?” somebody murmurs, their voice followed by the soft whoosh of your door closing. To no surprise, Harry leans against the door unable to hold back the happiness showing on his face. 

“I think it’s a yes,” you answer slowly, placing the stack of things on your desk, but not moving an inch. You want to toy with him and make him work for it, but as always, you can’t resist him. 

“How was yer day?” he mumbles once your arms come around his middle, brushing against the knit sweater vest. Sometimes he dresses like older colleagues and other days like his young age, but nonetheless you can’t help but think he’s the best dressed of any male teachers here at the school. He’s just too goddamn handsome that he can pull off anything.

“Good, we finished all of our readings in my classes. I get to be observed doing review tomorrow, so I hope the observer likes my Jeopardy games,” you comment, slipping your hands under the fabric, feeling the warmth projected from his body. 

“‘m sure they will, love, ‘s a good idea ya came up with. I know it took loads o’ work doin’ four o’ ‘em fer tha four different classes ya have throughout tha day. What time ‘s yer observation, ya neva said?”

“It’s during my fourth hour, before lunch,” you answer, him humming a short reply. “You really think I look that nice in this dress? I thought I looked frumpy and too tall,” you question, pursing your lips as you take a look at your long plain dress. 

“Yes, think ya look amazin’, bird. Couldn’t keep my eyes off o’ ya all day wheneva I saw ya. Yer gonna make me slip up one o’ these times, and make me blow our cover,” Harry snickers, stepping forward to sink his fingers into your hair, a thumb falling to address your cheek. A knowing smirk tempts your lips, and it only worsens when his tongue comes out to run over his. “Think ya know that already, tho’ - y’know what ya do t’ me, dontcha?” 

You silently shake your head, but the smile makes an appearance, and your lie is free to the air. His breathy laugh mingles with it before he takes them away, scooping your top lip between his. His kisses fill you with a warm giddiness, one that leads your hands to leave his strong back, and wander down him. Juice from the orange he must have just eaten trickles onto your lips, meanwhile your fingers dip into his pants, just brushing the top of his clothed bum. 

Harry breaks the kiss suddenly, but you’re already giggling. So far, all you receive is an eyebrow raise from him, but his toasty hands don’t leave your cheeks. His gleaming rose lips part, “What’d I say ‘bout those hands o’ yers? Lookie here, they’re gettin’ you in trouble ‘gain,” he tuts, your left cheek soon cold as he wags a finger at you. 

“You never said I couldn’t, and your bum just looks so nice today- well, every day,” you counter, feeling cheeky. His eyes dart from yours as blush rises to his cheeks, pulling up the corners of his mouth along with it. 

“Bird,” he giggles, eyes soon returning to yours. “I dunno what ‘m gonna do with you,” he coos gently, cupping your cheek once more with his long fingers, returning his lips to yours for a kiss. His smile is felt upon yours and you find out why when his tongue prods at your lips, begging for entrance. As your hand slides down to caress his bum, your lips part to let him in. 

Day after day, you wonder just when it was that you let him into your heart, seeing how he’s made a home in there. You just hope he’ll never want to leave. More and more often lately, you keep thinking that you’d like him to stay there, perhaps for forever. 

* 

With chattering teeth and a frozen nose, you only start to warm up once you unlock the door to your room, grateful to get to spend the upcoming weekend inside your cozy home. Thoughts of the cute knit hats Harry wears and how he finds you adorable with your rosy cheeks and button nose pull your eyes to his door. Sighing, you unwrap your scarf, discovering he hasn’t came in yet this morning. Yet another thing to add to his list of acting odd lately at times. Even though you spoke to him through a few texts this morning, you long to hear his voice comfort you about your dreaded observation later today. Unbeknownst to you, he has this magical quality to him that never fails to calm you down, or to make things better. Yet another thing you love about him, you think with a smile, unloading your messenger bag of the materials you bring back and forth from school. 

Once that’s all unpacked and you remember to turn on the lights, as well as the blinking Christmas lights strewn around your room, you get an idea. Pushing his door open, you pull on the gold metal chain of his lamp, your hands drifting to the green Post-Its. The pen slides from your fingers when somebody surprises you with a loud ‘boo!’

“Harry, stop,” you giggle, briefly glancing to the doorway to find him in his puffy black coat. 

“Would ya look at that, I caught ya in tha act. It won’t be much o’ a surprise now,” he titters, softly closing the door behind himself, the hallways beginning to abate their previous silence. 

Shrugging, you pick the pen back up and start to scribble down a note while you still have a few precious seconds left. Smirking, you release your lip you bite on to speak, “I got here before you today, that’s a point for me. I think we’re three-two now for this week,” you tease him, listening to the slushy scuffle of his leather boots along the floor. 

“Ya, I hadda busy mornin’, had sumthin’ important t’ do. Can ya guess what it was?” he murmurs, appearing behind you suddenly, his cheek rubbing against yours softly. A long ‘sure’ falls from your lips, but it comes up short when you think about the sensation of his cheek against your face. It’s smooth and warm, and not hairy. 

“Wait a minute,” you announce, pulling away from him and turning around in his chair to look at him. Seconds after your jaw dropped to your chest, your hand flies to your mouth at the sight of him freshly shaven. “Harry, your face!” For the first time, you finally get to see his dimples on full display, collapsing into his round smiling cheeks. A long giggle escapes them as he runs a hand over them. 

“What d’ya think o’ me all clean shaven? Haven’t seen me without a beard, have ya, bird?” he inquires, raising an eyebrow as a cocky smirk creases his pink cheeks. Within seconds, you’re on your feet and feeling his satiny cheeks under your palms. 

“They’re so smooth, I like them. You look so nice, well I liked you before with a beard too. You’re so handsome either way,” you croon, leaning in to kiss him, tasting the spearmint toothpaste he uses. Your lips wander to his cupid’s bow, the slope below his bottom lip, and across the expanses of his grinning cheeks. 

“Stop,” he giggles, his hands finding a home on your waist, but he’s hard to believe as he leans into your lips. “Don’t think I look weird or less handsome without a beard, d’ya now?”

“No, you never could. Mmmm, I like kissing all over your cheeks,” you hum in between kisses, the musky smell of his shaving cream tickling at your nose. 

“Thanks, bird, ‘m glad t’ hear that. Now, lemme read dis note ya left, ‘m curious now.”

Much to your disappointment, his face soon leaves the clutches of your kisses, him trailing to his desk. Although whining at his absence, you let him, and instead you admire his adorable cheeks. It takes everything inside of you to hold yourself back from pinching them and kissing them. Hints of denial and shock come over you again, unsure of what you’re seeing at times. Never in the last seven-ish months since you truly met Harry, have you seen him without his beard. It’s kind of startling, but you know that he has you wrapped around his finger as well, because it unmistakingly makes you love him even more. Sometimes you wonder how that’s possible, even if you’ve only been official for a few months. 

“Why the change?” you wonder aloud, eyes glued to him as his scan over the note you didn’t get to finish. Lifting his glowing eyes to you, those greens stare back at you, and again you’re knocked off your feet by him. 

“Why not,” he answers with a shrug of his shoulders, holding up the note. “Ya didn’t finish, y’know. Ya started t’ declare yer love fer me and all that jazz, and it ended in tha middle o’ a sentence. Not very proper fer an English teacher, y’know,” he pouts, dragging his feet over to you after his sarcastic words. 

“Well, you didn’t let me finish,” you reply, surrounding his middle once he’s in reach. 

“D’ya care t’?” he whispers against your mouth, his lips ghosting over yours. This man really does know what he’s doing. 

“No thanks, I’m not a ‘put me on the spot’ type of gal.”

“Ah, you aren’t, are ya? Tha’s a new one,” he grins, laying kisses to your cold cheeks, spreading warmth in his trail. 

“Maybe you could tell me something, though.”

“Hmm?” he hums, the feeling of his smooth skin rubbing against yours entirely new to you, but you think you could get used to it. 

“Could you tell me that I’m worrying about my observation for nothing?”

His kisses come to an unnecessary end, but in the end you’re grateful to see his green eyes again, and all of the love they hold. 

“Ya are worryin’ ‘bout it fer nuthin’, bird. Promise ya yer gonna do great, ‘m so proud o’ you and tha great teacher ya’ve become,” he coos above you, tapping his finger to your nose. The words settle inside of you and begin to sink in. “And ‘m not jus’ sayin’ that, hope ya know how much I mean it.” 

*

You tried, and failed, to keep Harry’s words at the front of your mind throughout your day. When the worries would bubble up, you’d try to make them go away with his reassuring voice saying them. At times, it was strenuous, and quickly the idea of eating lunch after your observation seemed ridiculous. That word seemed to align with your day soon, seeing as the powerpoint for Jeopardy wouldn’t work at first, but you blamed the projector. Then as the minutes ticked by and brought you closer and closer to eleven o’clock, shakes started to radiate throughout your body. Your hands grew clammy and you wish it was over with before it even started. 

Your students for British Literature soon shuffled in, dropping backpacks on the floor with groans, itching for Christmas Break to come as well. You can’t help but agree with them, reminding them of this once they’re all seated and the last bell has rung. Inside your chest, your heart feels like it’s trying to break free from its cage as you anticipate a random colleague walking through your door. 

“Hello, everybody. We finished reading Frankenstein yesterday, and to prepare for our test on Monday, we’re going to do some review. I know you all have come to enjoy my Jeopardy games, so I made one for Frank and-,” your introduction to your class is cut off by a knock on your classroom door, making your heart jump inside your chest. “Excuse me, let me just get that first.” With a deep breath, you hurry to get the door, and that breath goes flying out the window when you see who’s on the other side. His name falls from your lips at the sight of him, a clipboard hugged to his chest. 

“Hi, ‘m here t’ observe you fer tha duration o’ yer lesson,” Harry announces, a professionalism coming over his voice, yet a cheekiness is heard at the edge of it. 

“You’re observing me?” you ask breathlessly, earning a proud nod from him. “O-okay.”

“Yer gonna do great, don’ worry ‘bout me. Jus’ ignore me sittin’ in tha back,” he whispers, his warm smile holding more words than the both of you know he can say right now. After a squeeze to your arm, he slips past you into the classroom, flared maroon pants billowing behind him. “Hullo, e’rybody. ‘m Mr. Styles from across tha hall, I also teach English here. Don’ mind me, ‘m jus’ observin’ yer lovely teacher fer a colleague review t’day. Carry on,” Harry says, addressing your class. Swallowing, the butterflies take a peek from their safety inside your chest, soon taking flight to rid you of your worries. 

“As I was saying, I made a Jeopardy game for Frank that we’ll play to review for the test on Monday,” you continue, folding your hands together to sit below your waist. You smile when the class erupts in applause, and even more so when your eyes flit to Harry whose found an empty desk at the back of the room. His head of curls lifts from being bent over the clipboard he writes on, sending you an encouraging wink. “So let’s take attendance to see how many there are of all of you, and I’ll split you up into teams. Then we can get started,” you finish, feeling his eyes on you. Although the pressure is still there, you feel at home in his presence and you don’t even mess up once during your lesson. 

Even if you had, you’re sure he could’ve fixed it with the winks, thumbs ups, and heart wrenching smiles he sends you from across the room.  

*

“So how did you manage observing me when you had a class during fourth, too? And how’d I do by the way?” you begin, wandering into Harry’s open classroom, the hallways almost empty after the end of the school day. Stopping in your tracks, confusion washes over you when the seat at his desk is empty. It would seem likely he had only stepped out, but it only gets weirder when his long coat isn’t found draped over his chair. “Okay then,” you mumble, returning to your classroom with questions blooming inside of you.

Thoughts are recalled in your mind about how odd Harry’s acted on a few occasions lately, namely his unusual disappearances after school. It’s hard to ignore as you work on the last few questions for the test for sophomore American Lit. You’re trying to think of questions from Walt Whitman’s Song of Myself, switching tracks after just focusing on Ralph Waldo Emerson’s Self-Reliance. Although not news to you, you steal a glance across the hall at his classroom that still lays undisturbed, longing for his help with a good Whitman question. Soon, you find your phone in your hands, typing up a text to him asking him where he is, because you need his help. Before exiting your messages, the gray thought bubble appears with an ellipsis, indicating his typing. You wait for a response, but after close to a minute, you forget your phone on your desk nearby.

Giving up, your attention wanders to your staff email. You occupy your time answering a few parent emails, then some staff emails, and reading the important ones from the principal regarding Christmas Break. Your eyes grow far more tired at the sight of one from him about upcoming final exams in January, a time that seems far off from now. As a teacher now, you know that’s not true, and you always have to be ahead of the game. It’s yet another thing you want to rack Harry’s brain about, unsure of how to even create a final, and what to include on it. All you can think of is how much you despised final exams in high school and university, finding little worth in them. You know that you don’t want to be hard on your students, because a cumulative exam is difficult, and a regular exam already is as well. While your desktop plays Disney and Pixar piano instrumentals, your thoughts drift to the few teachers you had who made their final exam less intimidating. Whether it was a test on just the most recent unit you learned, the last book you read as a class, or something silly like throwing wadded up paper balls into the recycling from ten feet away. 

Quickly, they’re disturbed by the twinkling of your cell phone, buzzing along your desk. A budding warmth trickles into your limbs when you see on it the goofy picture of Harry from a day at the beach last summer. New freckles covering his tanned skin, and all pink sunglasses donning his eyes. 

“Hey, where’d you escape to?” you answer casually, dragging your mouse over to pause your music, coming across a song from the movie Up. 

“Oh erm, had t’ run a quick errand. ‘m on me way back tho’, so what’re ya doin’?” Harry replies, clearing his throat which he never does, only when he’s nervous. You try to listen into his voice closer, but you don’t hear anything else besides that, so you try to push it away. 

“Finishing up my Transcidentalism Writers test. I was wondering what would be a good question, in your opinion, from Whitman’s Song of Myself?” you pose to him, your other hand falling from your computer mouse to prop your chin up. 

“Hmmm, tha’s a good question,” he titters, another sound echoing his words, but you can’t make out what it is in the background. “Ya could do a question ‘bout tha theme o’ tha poem, examples o’ figurative language, or ya could have a short response question where they summarize tha poem in their own thoughts, I s’pose. Ya could even- Shhh,” he finishes. He only makes you grow more and more curious as to what’s going on, and why you hear a whine in response. 

“Who are you talking to?” you laugh, narrowing your eyes at the wall you stare at lazily while talking to him. 

“Oh nobody, nobody. Do those erm questions help? Ya like ‘em, bird?” he responds hastily, brushing the strange occurrence away. 

“Okay, whatever you say, and yeah they help. Thank you.”

“Welcome. ‘m almost t’ me classroom, so ‘ll see ya soon, kay?”

“Okay,” you tell him before he hangs up. 

Yawning, you turn back to your computer and quickly write down those ideas in a Notepad document before you forget them. You’re in the middle of typing up the idea for a short response question when there’s a knock at your classroom door. Turning your head, you don’t see anybody at first, so you revert your attention back to your typing. 

“Yeah, who’s there? Harry, is that you?” you reply, your fingers dancing along the keyboard swiftly. 

“No, ‘s me,” Harry’s voice replies, but it’s distorted to sound different from his. It’s more high-pitched, very near to that of a child. Giggling, you look back over to your doorway to find a surprise. “Hi, ‘m a puppy. ‘m a Golden Retriever mix. I jus’ got adopted by me new daddy, Harry.”

“Oh my goodness!” you exclaim, hands flying to your mouth at the most adorable sight indeed. Held in Harry’s two hands, a tan Golden puppy is suspended in the air in your doorway. His tiny furry body squirms in your boyfriend’s hands, a short yip leaving his little mouth. “Harry!” you cry, rooted to your spot. Another exclamation leaves your lips when a yawn leaves the little puppy’s mouth, and then again when his long wagging tail enters your view. 

“‘m only eight weeks and daddy jus’ go’mme, so I don’ have a name yet, but ‘s nice t’ meet you. Me daddy ‘s thinkin’ o’ namin’ me Gatsby afta his favourite book. Whoops, I wasn’t s’posed t’ tell ya that, daddy says ya were s’posed t’ guess that on yer own. Anyways, my daddy and I wanted t’ ask you if ya’ll be my new mummy? He was also wonderin’ if ya wanted t’ come an’ live with us, since daddy told me yer lease ‘s up soon. I dunno what dat ‘s, but what d’ya say? I know we’d have loads o’ fun togetha, and ‘m jus’ so darn cute!” Harry continues in his child-like voice, speaking for the new puppy. Tears soon blur your eyes, but you blink them away quickly so as to not lose sight of the irresistible puppy. 

“Harry!” you cry, getting to your feet and dashing in your heels to the doorway, finding him bringing the puppy to his chest. 

“Hi, birdy. I see ya’ve met me new puppy, or . . our new puppy,” he smirks before you, hitting you with another wave of emotions at his darling words. “Sorry, I didn’t tell ya ‘bout him sooner. This ‘s what’s been takin’ up all me time dis week, and it all happened so fast. Wanted t’ surprise ya, and I think ‘s safe t’ say I have,” he chuckles, removing a hand from around the puppy’s pink belly to wipe the tears from under your eyes. 

“It’s okay. Oh my goodness, look at him,” you almost whine in that voice you use around babies, bringing your hands to his fluffy fur. He turns his head towards you and his tiny black nose wiggles as he sniffs at the air around you. “Hi, little guy. Can I be your new mummy, is that okay with you?”

“‘Course it ‘s, was kinda bettin’ on it. Knew ya’d be a good mummy . . . Wish I could bring him t’ school on Monday, but my sista said she’d take him fer tha day,” Harry coos, lifting your head with his voice. One of those big crinkly-eye smiles claims his face, disappearing from view when he presses a kiss to your lips. Your lips move with his, fingers getting lost in his hair, but it’s over quickly when you start to hear barking below you. “Heeeeey, ‘s okay, li’l guy. I can kiss mummy, if I want t’. What d’ya think, Gatbsy, hmmm? Mummy said she’d make us pizzas t’morrow. Already turnin’ out t’ be a good mummy, isn’t she now?” 

Laughs coat the both of your lips as he lifts the puppy into the air for the both of you to look at. They echo throughout the room when Gatsby wiggles in his arms, moving his gangly legs wildly as if trying to swim through the air. 

“Oh, Harry,” you sigh, encircling his middle with your arms. The puppy returns to his side, and his left arm wanders to around your shoulders. His lips are cold against your forehead when they press a smooch there. You can’t help but to laugh again when the puppy inches over to you, sniffing all over you, long arms dangling over Harry’s. He reaches your face and begins to lick kisses along your cheeks, soon crawling into your arms with Harry’s help. 

“I think he likes his new mummy, I can’t blame him.”

“Oh I love him already,” you confess, losing your fingers in his long fur around his face, ears flopping all over the place. “And his daddy,” you blurt out, widening your wet eyes once the words escape your lips. Glancing over to Harry, somehow that smile has grown even larger, adorned by a fresh wash of pink along his cheeks. 

“You love me?” he murmurs slowly, hand soft against your shoulder, pressing you to his chest. You pause, unsure of how to read his reaction, but the sudden doubt falls away. You’re nodding before the words come, and you already see the effect they have on him. 

“Yeah, I know it’s only been a few months, but I do . . I love you, Harry,” you divulge, clutching the puppy to your chest who still spills kisses along your face and neck, licking up the tears that run down your cheeks. 

“I think he’s gonna hafta contain himself and gimme a turn kissing his mum . . ‘coz I love ya too, birdy, so much,” Harry hums, the smile leaking into his voice. You can even taste it on your lips when his touch yours, massaging yours gently, the smooth feeling of his skin still a surprise to you. 

“And, Harry?” you whisper, his eyes falling to yours, mumbling a question in response. “I’d love to move in with the two of you . . my boys,” you finally answer, watching the smile hike further up his cheeks. His delightful giggle surrounds you and soon a sweet yipping followed by puppy kisses to the both of your happy faces. 

Yeah, you could get used to this, all of it. 

[milkypompon]

𝕊𝕦𝕓𝕥𝕝𝕖 𝔽𝕚𝕣𝕖 | Sokka x Azula

𝕀𝕞𝕒𝕘𝕚𝕟𝕖 | Azula is slowly healed from the past thanks to therapy and the Gaang, well a special Water Tribe warrior from the team, Sokka.

𝔸𝕦𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕣'𝕤 ℕ𝕠𝕥𝕖 | I wanted to create a little back story first, just so you can feel the connection with these two!

𝔼ℕ𝕁𝕆𝕐

【𝕊𝕝𝕠𝕨 ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕖】

The newly crowned Fire Lord knocked at a door he recognized all too well. If this situation were on different circumstances, Zuko would be shivering down to his feet, but times have changed and people did as well.

“Azula?” Zuko whispered into the door, “It’s me, Zuzu… Can I come in?”

“Can you?” He could imagine his sister smiling teasingly.

Zuko rolled his eyes and twisted the door handle, “Yes, I may.”

He was met with Azula’s back. Her face was contorted in disgust, as she failed at another attempt of styling her hair into a bun. 

Zuko walked up to her, careful not to disrupt her, but after hearing many of her disappointed grunts, he reassured, “You don’t have to look your best for them, just feel your best.”

Azula finally turned to him and she nodded. She set down the ribbon and comb in hand. “Well then, is it time?” Her voice was low and unsteady, already overflowing with anxiety. 

He simply nodded. Zuko offered her his arm and Azula looped hers in. She sighed into his shoulder.

Together the siblings walked down the hallway.

“Brother, where are we going?” Azula tried to catch his eye.

Zuko just smiled, quietly relaying a message of, “Just trust me.” 

Azula stopped in her tracks, unintentionally gripping onto Zuko’s arms tight. The siblings arrived at the courtyard. There were sudden memories of Azula’s childhood that plagued her. 

There was too much. 

Too much that was said and done.

Her brother noticed the tears there were threatening to slip down her face, “We can turn around now if you want, Azula…”

She shook her head, deep down she knew this was the only way to release her from her past.

The siblings slowly approached a group who had relaxed features, unbeknownst of the two approaching. Aang and Katara’s backs were stretched out on the green grass. They pointed at the clouds, occasionally whispering what the fluff of white resembled. Ty Lee taught Sokka and a frustrated Mai how to weave a flower crown out of dandelions. While Toph and Suki quietly sat near a pond and fed the turtle ducks crumbs of bread.

Sokka was the first one who heard the approaching footsteps, he craned his neck up. A sudden wave of heat washed over him. “Oh, no…”

【𝕀𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤】

The Gaang welcomed Azula with open arms, with many tears that spilled from each person, of course

Every weekend they’d visit different Nations to help villages and towns to recover from the war, just simple civil duties! 

One weekend, the Gaang flew to Ba Sing Se and they decided to form into groups of two to quickly finish their tasks, so they could check out the zoo Aang created by accident afterwards. They promised that they’d meet at the palace at sunset.

Of course, Azula and Sokka were stuck together

𝔸𝕕𝕧𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕖𝕤 𝕚𝕟 𝔹𝕒 𝕊𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕊𝕖

It was quiet at first, bluntly said, just AwKWArd

Sokka decided to TRY and break the ice, “So, uh… what is it like being in the palace?”

Azula smirked and rolled their eyes, “You’ve been in the palace, dummy.”

He thought, “This is gonna be a long day.”

Their task was to find Bosco who seemed to leave the palace

“HOW DOES A BEAR LEAVE UNNOTICED??” Sokka smacked his forehead as the pair traversed the streets of the market.

Azula giggled, much to Sokka’s surprise.

【𝕀𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤】

Azula liked to be around Sokka, she felt normal, like she missed out on all of this during her years of being an enraged Princess.

Sokka liked to make Azula laugh.

That’s how simple it was.

They have such differing personalities and upbringings that it kept their blooming friendship interesting

“So you’re telling me that you’ve NEVER dipped fried potato sticks into a cacao shake???” Sokka’s eyes widened in utter surprise.

“uhM… That sounds kinda gross, Sokka.” Azula remarked.

“Can’t be an hater unless you’ve tried it, babe,”

Azula was caught off guard by the nickname and Sokka was too. They just stared at each other for a bit.

Sokka blurted, “S-Sorry! That just came out-”

She looked to the side and said under her breath, “I- uh, don’t mind.” Her cheeks flushed just enough for Sokka to take notice.

TRAINING SESSIONS ARE INTENSE

Sokka teaches Azula how to fight without firebending.

“Ugh,” Sokka groaned as he felt the stone pavement hit his back. 

Azula rested her knees on either side of his thighs and leaned in. “Y’know I've been kicking ass since I was a child,” she breathed on Sokka’s lips. 

Sokka leaned in and cradled her jaw, pulling her in until their noses touched, “Can I-”

“AZULA! IT’S DINNERTIME-” Zuko calls and was taken aback from the sight (although not surprised). He smirked, “Looks like you’re already eating good,” Zuko smirked and simply walked away. 

𝔸𝕕𝕧𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕖𝕤 𝕚𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕊𝕠𝕦𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕟 𝕎𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕋𝕣𝕚𝕓𝕖

Sokka is coronated as the Chief of the Southern Water Tribe

Azula is sure as hell there ! 

And they accidentally revealed their relationship when Chief Sokka bounced up to Princess Azula like a little dog and gave her a massive hug. They both froze when they realized that the whole Gaang was watching.

Katara looked at them confused, but soon smiled supportively, “Can Princess Katara get a hug too, Chief Sokka?”

(Azula gets so damn cold easily somehow in the Southern Water Tribe?? So there's a lot of warm hugs and tea pouring from Iroh!)

【𝔾𝕒𝕒𝕟𝕘'𝕤 ℙ𝕆𝕍】

EVERYONE is surprisingly supportive

Bets between the Gaang 

Aang begrudgingly hands over some gold coins to Toph when she won the bet of who kissed who first, it was Azula that initiated.

Zuko looks at Aang and Toph, “Did you too really have a bet about those two?”

They nodded.

“I want in on the next one.”

(Eventually, Katara joins.

Thing is, she’s best friends with Mai and Ty Lee, so she’s filled in with all the deets 

She’s won big bucks, but she’s too nice so Katara treats the Gaang for some food.)

【𝕊𝕠𝕜𝕜𝕒 & 𝔸𝕫𝕦𝕝𝕒'𝕤 ℙ𝕆𝕍】

Honestly, the whole relationship is just like between a cat (aka Azula) being teased and loved by a hyper pup (aka Sokka)

Sokka and Azula’s relationship is usually a relaxed one, not as easy going as with Suki, but they still poke fun!

Their’s is filled with much more deeper and emotional feelings. With what they’ve both been through, it’s given

They’re there for each other when someone needs to be comforted during nightmare filled nights 

It ranged from what the Nations would look like if Ozai became the Phoenix King to Ursa returning to Azula, then her mother neglecting her. While Sokka was solely based on one of his friends or family suffering due to him

They’re understanding of each other

Sometimes, Azula still has her outbursts, but Sokka is very understanding and allows to give her time until she wants to talk it out 

Sokka seems to always carry the weight of others and his own, so Azula teaches him from personal experience that it’s okay to rely on friends and family for help + love 

【ℝ𝔼ℚ𝕌𝔼𝕊𝕋𝕊 𝔽𝕆ℝ 𝔸𝕋𝕃𝔸 𝔸ℝ𝔼 𝕆ℙ𝔼ℕ】

𝔼𝕟𝕕𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕖 | I’m so thankful for this request! I had a difficult time connecting these two characters, but as I wrote more, I learned more about the characters true intentions as to why they'd choose that S/O. I was able to allow these characters to grow from off screen!

(a lil annoyed bc I double tabbed for some parts of the bullet points, but for some reason Tumblr is all screwy and didn't capture it.)

Let me know what you think about these two love birds !!

[luxexhomines]

Hi! Can I have images for maki, shuichi, and rantaro who are dating an S/O who is struggling with their weight due to medical/allergy reasons (for reference, it's called exercise induced anaphylaxis) and is feeling self concious? If you dont want to write an overweight S/O then you can just do the self concious bit

Hi, anon! Thanks for the request. Sorry that it took me forever to fulfill (I thought I wasn’t going to ever get to the requests at the bottom of my inbox, but I looked back and thought I’d like to do some). Icon credit to mckindonalds!

It wasn’t an easy request for me to fulfill since I wasn’t sure what was appropriate for the reader to say or exactly how they felt about it, but this is kind of just a piece of comfort in each one. I hope you find something that you like in these imagines, although I’m unsure if this is what you were hoping for exactly. Hopefully, Maki isn’t too OOC because I didn’t make her very tsundere at all. Under the cut, since altogether it makes the post rather long.

Maki, Shuichi, & Rantaro x S/O with Exercise-Induced Anaphylaxis

Maki Harukawa

Maki rapped on the door politely. She had manners, unlike a certain someone she might name. After a short while, you came to the door. 

“Sorry,” you apologized. “I didn’t-”

“You didn’t want to move too fast in case you got sick,” she finishes for you. “I understand,” she says. Contrary to her cold demeanor, her dark red eyes softened around the edges as she looked at you, her beloved, and she came inside the house with the slightest of smiles playing at her lips. 

You lead her to your room, and the two of you sit on the floor and chat. At first, it was only idle chatter: what each of you’d been up to recently, and how the summer weather was treating you. But somehow, you end up saying the words, the feelings you had never wanted to reveal to her. 

“I hate this. I wish I could be normal,” you say spitefully before gasping and covering your mouth. You desperately tried to bite back the tears and stared at the floor heatedly. All the tears you’d been swallowing day after day, night after night, year after year. You could do it again. 

You felt a hand grab yours, and you looked to see Maki’s small but strong grasp on yours. You felt weaker than ever. 

“Hey. Look at me,” she says, and you do. Her eyes are filled with concern and a tinge of sadness. You chew on your lip softly. 

“Maki?” 

She grabs your other hand in hers, too, and somehow it only triggered more feelings you thought you’d left behind long ago. Feelings you buried never really went away; they marinated in the new feelings and warped, but they were still here. Feelings of shame, rage, and self-hatred. 

“Is it so bad to show your weakness to me?” Maki says quietly. “You know I was an assassin, and I’ve talked to you about all the ugly, terrible things I’ve done and seen. They’re not the same at all, but that’s my weakness, and I’ve shared it with you.” 

You tighten your hold on Maki’s hand slightly. Somehow, your hands fit together so perfectly. 

“I thought my weakness was obvious,” you said self-deprecatingly, throwing a wayside glance at yourself. Your body. 

She shakes her head firmly. Without letting go of your hands, she gets on her knees and shifts over closer to you, so that your bodies are almost touching. 

“I know you struggle with losing weight because of your condition,” she says. “But I hadn’t realized that you’d been suffering so much.” 

Maki sounded sorrowful. It was maybe the most emotion you’d ever felt from her, aside from when she had been talking about her time as an assassin or was pissed off by certain people. 

“...Are you disappointed?” you say. You didn’t want to hear the answer if it was yes, but you still asked anyway. 

“No. Never,” she replies, and she looks you right in the eye. “You’re just as strong as you’ve always been. But there’s no harm in sharing your worries and pains with me. I’m your partner. I’m supposed to be here for you, and I want to be here for you.” 

You attempt a weak smile. 

“Is it a part of the contract?” 

She sighs. 

“I’m serious, s/o.” 

“So am I,” you joke, and you feel the heaviness in your heart slowly dissolving. 

Maki presses her forehead to yours. 

The funny thing about being in a relationship with Maki was that she was so much more daring and affectionate than she would’ve been once her feelings were returned. She wasn’t as cold, per se, as she was before you two were together. 

“I love you, s/o.”

Your breath was whisked away by those words, and you froze. 

Maki squeezed your hands gently. “...s/o? Hey, are you not breathing or something?” 

Right. She was close enough to tell. 

You breathed in slowly. 

“Are you sure?” you say. But you know the answer. She wouldn’t say what she doesn’t mean. 

“I’m sure,” she laughs, and she kisses you sweetly. “You’re beautiful.” 

More words that would take away your breath. But you breathe normally this time. She was sweeter than any air you could ever take in, though. 

“I love you too, Maki. And for the record, I’m the ugly one in this relationship.” 

She pouts and draws away slightly, releasing your hands and putting her hands on your shoulders instead so she can look you in the face from the right distance. 

“That would be me,” she says. “You’re always smiling, and you have the most beautiful smile ever. Tell me if anyone says anything to oppose that, and I’ll punch them for you.” 

You chuckle. 

“Your services are always appreciated, but that’s alright. I can punch them myself,” you respond. “But fine. Neither of us is the ugly one. We can both be beautiful.” 

Maki nods in satisfaction. 

“We are both beautiful.” 

You can’t help giggling at her statement. It would sound so funny out of context. She leans in and tweaks your nose slightly. “And what are you laughing at, huh?” 

You bat at her hand. 

“Hey!” 

You fall into a fit of laughter with her, and the two of you lie on the ground, cheeks hurting from smiles and joy. Somehow, it was so easy to feel at ease around her. Even your most heavily guarded worries and pains seemed to sprout wings and fly away in her presence. 

“Thanks, Maki.” 

“What for?” she says and turns to look at you. Her serious expression makes your heart skip a beat, and you wet your lips nervously. Sometimes you still felt like you just had a crush on her instead of being in a real relationship with her. 

“Never mind that,” you reply, and you roll over and press a kiss to her lips. “I need to recharge.” 

She arches an eyebrow. 

“Oh? Well, now that you mention it, so do I.” 

You find yourself in her warm embrace and rather preoccupied for the rest of the day. 

Shuichi

“Shuichi?” 

The two of you were sitting on the couch and, up until that time, had been reading quietly in companionship with each other. He set his book down, probably sensing something in your tone. 

“Yes?” 

You weren’t looking at him, although he had now turned to look at you. Instead, you were poking at your round tummy. 

“Why am I like this?” 

He reached out and grabbed your hand, stopping you from poking yourself. You glanced at him, and his dirty gold eyes were serious. 

“Like what?” 

You sighed. 

“You know.” 

He shook his head stubbornly, looking irritated for once. 

“No, I don’t.” 

You struggled to take back your hand, but instead, he somehow made it so the two of you were holding hands snugly. 

“Ugh. Why do I look like this?” you complained and avoided eye contact with him. He was surprisingly persistent when it came to you saying things like this. 

He pulled you closer to him so that you were leaning on him, and let go of your hand only to wrap his arm around you. 

“You look like you. You look lovely.” 

You groaned. 

“But I don’t want to look like this. It’s because I can’t exercise that I’m like this.” 

“Do you think your true self lies elsewhere?” he asks. “Do you think this body isn’t you?” 

You pondered. 

“I don’t really know because I’ve pretty much always been like this. Of course, my body has changed since childhood, but...I’ve never lived without this.” 

There was contemplative silence for a while. Shuichi seemed to always compel you to think more about everything in his presence. 

“...I still love you either way. I know it’s hard, but I’m here for you,” he says solemnly. “I won’t let you just agonize over this alone. You’re my s/o, after all.” 

You turn your head to look at him, and you’re suddenly aware of how close in proximity the two of you are. 

“Is that a promise?” you say, one side of your lips quirking upwards. 

He leans in and boops your nose with his own.

“Always.” 

Rantaro

You were lying on the bed side-by-side with Rantaro, cuddling. He was gently petting your head, as he sometimes did, and you leaned into his touch. It was comfortable and soothing. It would be easy to fall asleep under these circumstances. You sighed. 

“Is something wrong?” he said, sounding slightly concerned. “I think that’s the fifth time you’ve sighed today.” 

“I...no, it’s nothing. I was just thinking.” 

He peered into your eyes curiously. 

“About what?” 

You sighed again. 

“About my condition. And how I wouldn’t look like this if I didn’t have it.” 

He didn’t say much for a moment, just continued to pet your head. Then, he responded. 

“Do you not like your appearance?” 

You bit your lip softly. 

“I wish I was thinner.” 

“And why is that?” 

You reached out and played with a lock of his wavy green hair. 

“Because...I would be more good-looking.” 

Rantaro was quiet for another few seconds, looking contemplative.

“Do you honestly think you would be more good-looking if you were thinner, or is that what society’s conditioned you into thinking? That thinner is more beautiful or handsome?” 

You were frustrated and looked away from those probing eyes. 

“Well, it’s not like it’s just that I wish I was thinner because I think I’m ugly. My condition isn’t exactly healthy.”

He stopped moving for a moment and then continued to pet your head. 

“You’re right, I’m sorry. Since we’d just been talking about your appearance at first… Well, it’s not an excuse. Aside from your condition causing health issues, I still think you’re as good-looking as good-looking gets, though.” He smiles in that casual, carefree way of his, and you can’t help but forgive him. 

“Alright, alright. Your opinion is the only one that matters, huh?” You arch an eyebrow and smirk at him. “Pretty boy.” 

He raised his hands in defense. 

“Hey, I was born this way.” 

You rolled your eyes and lightly punched him on the shoulder. 

“You were born this way, but you dress this way on purpose.” 

“Ouch,” he grins. “But true. And yes, for the record, my opinion is the only one that matters. At least, when it comes to you. ‘Cause I love you, and I’m blessed to have you in my life.” 

You freeze for a moment and then grinned back at him. 

“I love you too, Rantaro. And I’m lucky to be loved by you.” 

He pulls you into his embrace and affectionately smooches you on your forehead. 

“Ditto.”

[mrs-berry]

Puns

Part 10 of Avril Amour (Adrinette April 2019)

By mrs_berry

@adrinetteapril

Click here to read on AO3!

"W-what? Why me?" Marinette asked, dumbfounded by Adrien's out-of-the-blue request.

"I asked Nino if he knew anyone who seemed to dislike puns," Adrien began to explain. Shyly, he rubbed the back of his neck and continued, "And, without any hesitation, his immediate answer was your name."

"I-I see," Marinette blinked, still utterly confused about the whole situation. "But why exactly do you want to get me to, um, laugh at a pun of yours?" She tilted her head, as if the answer would come to her if she looked at him from a slightly different angle.

"I have a... friend who doesn't appreciate my puns," he replied with a wry grin, remembering all the eye rolls and groans Ladybug had given him. He had gotten a smirk out of her on the rare occasion, but never a genuine laugh. But he was determined to do so. Even if it meant embarrassing himself in front of his classmate and friend, Marinette.

"Oh. Well, they sound a bit like me," Marinette gave a small giggle. Tikki laughed in despair internally, thinking she is you. Plagg was having similar thoughts.

"So... would you be up for it?" Adrien asked with a hopeful puppy-eyed expression on his face.

Was it even possible to say no to that face? It definitely wasn't for Marinette.

"Sure," Marinette agreed with a soft smile. She was almost positive she would regret it as she already dealt with Chat's puns on a regular basis, but at the same time, she was excited to spend any extra time with Adrien if it meant she could become closer to him.

Even if it was just as friends.

He was just so pleasant to be around. Of course she wanted more, but she had to remind herself that any time spent with him was better than none at all.

Adrien did a cute little fist pump in the air at her acceptance. "Thanks, Marinette! I'll be starting tomorrow, if that's okay with you?"

"Sounds good, A-Adrien," Marinette murmured with hearts in her eyes.

They said their goodbyes and Marinette prepared herself mentally that night for the onslaught of painful puns that were sure to be thrown at her the next day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hey, Marinette," Adrien greeted. Marinette smiled and awkwardly waved in reply, words of greeting failing to fall from her lips so early in the morning.

Then, she looked around and noticed Alya and Nino were not anywhere in the classroom, despite class starting in about a minute.

As if sensing her thoughts, Adrien spoke up, "Nino is sick today and apparently he got Alya sick, too. So it'll be just you and me today," he explained, giving Marinette a friendly smile.

"Oh. Okay," Marinette replied, turning slightly red from the thought of her (somewhat) alone time with her crush.

Then, Adrien randomly chuckled, which shook Marinette from her thoughts and captured her full attention.

"The past, the present, and the future walked into a bar."

Marinette quirked an eyebrow in confusion.

"It was tense," he concluded with a proud smile.

Oh. Right. That.

Marinette let out a polite—but forced—giggle, not really finding the joke funny.

"Hmm, I guess it wasn't that great," Adrien pouted.

"It was g-good," Marinette tried to reassure him. "But, I've heard that one before so it's, um, nothing really special. I don't think your friend will be impressed. S-sorry!"

"Don't apologize, I need your honesty," he replied, his pout morphing into a toothy grin. "Thanks, Marinette. I'll keep 'em coming."

"Great!" Marinette squeaked, happy to be receiving her crush's attention. Even if the subject was not exactly her favourite.

Class began and Adrien returned his focus to the teacher.

After the lesson, when the students were given time to practice what they had just learned, Adrien took the opportunity to turn around and try out his next pun.

"How did the picture end up in jail?" He paused for dramatic effect. "It was framed!"

Marinette laughed robotically, sounding less authentic than the first time. "That's not t-terrible." She grimaced when she realized that wasn't exactly a compliment. "I mean, err, it was somewhat okay. Pretty okay. Good, even."

Adrien chuckled at her attempt to be polite, but it wasn't what he wanted. "Thanks, Marinette. I know you're trying to be nice. But, can I ask you a favour?"

"O-of course! Anything for you!" she blurted, then corrected herself to avoid sounding like she liked him a lot more than a friend (which she did, but didn't want him to know), "I-I mean, anything for a friend..."

"Thanks!" He beamed, then turned more serious, but still friendly. "Can you please react with how you really feel? And don't hold back, please."

Marinette hesitated. "A-are you sure? I-I might end up being a bit, uh, savage..." she shyly admitted with a blush.

"That's perfect. Do you worst," Adrien shot back with a wink.

Marinette gave a sheepish smile and nod. She would probably still hold back. She couldn't bear the thought of hurting the feelings of such a pure and kind boy.

She tried to return her thoughts to the work in front of her, with little success.

Adrien cleared his throat and piped up, "Coffee has a rough time at our house. It gets mugged every morning."

Marinette gave a tight smile and made no comment.

Adrien pursed his lips, giving up on that one as well.

"My parents said they won't let me drink coffee anymore... or else they'll ground me." Adrien tried again.

Marinette paused and looked up at him with no trace of amusement on her face, just a questioning look. "Do you even drink coffee?"

"... No?" he admitted, but it also sounded more like a question.

"That makes that joke even less effective... n-no offense," Marinette muttered, but gave him a small smile to show she meant no harm.

"Good to know," he noted, looking up at the ceiling in thought.

He turned to her again, "Why didn't the cat go to the vet?" Adrien was excited by this one, trying his best to suppress his own laughter. "Because he was feline fine!"

Marinette groaned, being directly reminded of her partner, Chat.

But then she remembered that she was listening to Adrien, not Chat, and she was quick to apologize.

Adrien had to reassure her, again, that he wanted her to react with how she really felt and not to feel bad about it. She reluctantly agreed once again.

A few moments of silence passed.

"How do you make a good egg-roll?" Marinette shrugged in response to his question. "You push it down a hill!"

Marinette rolled her eyes. "The only thing rolling here is my eyes..." she quipped, then widened her eyes at her own pun.

"Good one, Marinette!" Adrien exclaimed in delight, chuckling in pure amusement.

She blushed again. She had not intended to say that out loud. Oops.

Feeling a rush from her engagement, Adrien continued, "Do you know why I started sleeping in a fireplace?" To humour him, Marinette shook her head. "It allows me to sleep like a log."

She hesitated for a second, then decided to go for it. "Maybe you should start a log of bad puns." Marinette didn't entirely want to admit it, but she was really starting to enjoy their pun battle.

Adrien laughed again, clearly enjoying himself as well.

"I have a few jokes about unemployed people," he paused and sighed in mock-disappointment. "But none of them work."

Marinette snorted. "Neither do your jokes."

Adrien burst into laughter. He had no idea Marinette was so good with wordplay! He loved it.

After his laughter subsided, he kept going, "Did you hear about the kidnapping at school? It's okay, the kid woke up."

"Please... wake me up from this nightmare," Marinette said, shaking her head in mock-disgust.

"Okay, okay. But did you hear about the guy who got hit in the head with a can of pop? He was lucky it was a soft drink!"

"Just... no." Marinette didn't even bother giving a clever response for that one. She didn't want to be too savage.

"Whenever I undress in the bathroom, my shower gets turned on," Adrien said with a rather flirty smirk.

Which sent Marinette's thoughts to very inappropriate places, causing her heartbeat to accelerate and sending blood rushing to her head.

When Adrien noticed her reaction was not what he had expected, he realized he may have crossed a line. "Sorry," he mumbled, suddenly embarrassed as well.

They awkwardly sat in silence, before Marinette cleared her throat. "Adrien. If you want to make your friend laugh, maybe think up one that will be meaningful to them and that they probably haven't heard before. Like, what is their favourite book or movie?"

Adrien frowned, "I'm not sure... but that's a good idea."

"Can you think of a topic or something that is unique about them?"

Adrien closed his eyes in thought for a moment.

When he opened his eyes, he hesitantly stated, "She likes bugs. Her favourite type is a ladybug."

Marinette raised her brows in shock. So, he was coming up with a joke for a girl? Marinette couldn't quite quell the jealousy that bloomed in her chest.

"I-I see," she said then fell silent. She scolded herself for being distracted by the green bug of envy.

Ugh, she was mad at herself for even thinking of that pun.

Shaking her head and trying to clear her mind, she searched the corners of her minds for bug puns.

"Okay. I've got one that I think is pretty funny. As funny as a pun can get, that is. Ready?"

Adrien nodded and looked at her as though he was hanging onto her every word for dear life.

"What kind of bug can't go into the men's washroom?" She paused, giving him a pretty little smirk. "A ladybug."

Adrien blinked, then found himself crying with laughter. It was so perfect, he adored it. He adored Marinette; she was simply amazing.

"T-thanks, Marinette," he said between chuckles. "I think I'll go with that one."

And that brought the painfully punny morning class to a close.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That night on patrol, Chat was waiting for his partner.

He couldn't wipe the giant smile off his face. He was simply too excited to share his latest joke with his best friend.

A moment later, Ladybug arrived.

"Hey, Chaton. Ready for another night of patrol?" Ladybug greeted.

"You know it, LB!" he winked, then quickly added, "But I have a question for you before we go."

"Okay. What is it?" she asked patiently.

"What type of bug can't go into the men's washroom?"

Ladybug's jaw dropped at the question and the huge, dorky, excited grin on Chat's face. No...

Chat continued, assuming she was just confused. He couldn't wait for her inevitable laughter. Doing his best to hold in his laughter, he said, "A ladybug."

Silence. Not even a groan of disgust.

Ladybug turned ghostly pale and promptly passed out.

[verdantdesert]

TAGGED BY: stolen from @hammurabicomplex

TAGGING: anyone who wants!

LAYER ONE : THE OUTSIDE

NAME -  Selena Begaye Ruiz (”Laney”)

EYE COLOUR -  Dark brown

HAIR STYLE / COLOUR -  Black, long and straight. She usually wears it down, but sometimes braided, in a ponytail, etc. When she’s dressing up for a special occasion, she’ll put her hair in a tsiiyéeł, a traditional Navajo bun hairstyle.

HEIGHT -  4′11″, aka smol af

CLOTHING STYLE -  Varies greatly from day to day, from trendy blouses and tunics to drug rugs (a lot of drug rugs), but generally prefers comfortable and relatively practical clothing. She favors a traditional skirt, blouse, concho belt, and set of turquoise jewelry for formal events.

BEST PHYSICAL FEATURE -  Her entire face when she smiles, she’s just adorable tbh.

LAYER TWO : THE INSIDE

FEARS -  Losing her loved ones, either to death or to turning out to be monsters (looking @ you, Gus). She also has a deep fear of failure and disappointing others (gifted child burnout syndrome, can i get an amen), which she copes with by just not trying. Finally, she swears up and down that she saw (and heard, and smelled) the Mogollon Monster once while visiting friends in Arizona and smoking in the desert and that it Totally Wasn’t Just A Bad Trip, Guys- she’s scared shitless to this day. 

GUILTY PLEASURE -  Weed, Los Pollos Hermanos fried chicken, and attention.

BIGGEST PET PEEVE -  People shit-talking those she cares for, regardless of whether or not such comments are true.

AMBITIONS FOR THE FUTURE -  Laney is not particularly ambitious, but is a fairly relaxed, go-with-the-flow type of person who could find happiness in any number of careers, although she has been advised by many people to pursue stand-up comedy. In terms of immediate goals, however, she wants to find her missing cousin.

LAYER THREE : THOUGHTS

FIRST THOUGHTS UPON WAKING UP : “ugh, I don’t wanna get uppppppp”

WHAT YOU THINK ABOUT MOST :  Honestly, probably memes, along with her loved ones, food, and dogs.

WHAT YOU THINK ABOUT BEFORE BED :  The homework and lifestyle changes she’s put off doing out of stress and executive dysfunction, the fact that people she cares about seem to be dropping like flies, the catastrophic plane crash, the sense that something horrible is happening that she can’t figure out... (hence why she smokes before bed)

WHAT YOUR BEST QUALITY IS :  Her wit, charm, and easy-going lightheartedness. Sometimes when you’re surrounded by trauma and tragedy, a good laugh can make a world of difference.

LAYER FOUR : WHAT’S BETTER ?

SINGLE OR GROUP DATES -  Group, one-on-one is too intimate and vulnerable.

TO BE LOVED OR RESPECTED -  Loved. Laney brands herself as a clown, and she’s perfectly content with that. There’s power, and more importantly security, in being the “funny one” who is always underestimated and overlooked.

BEAUTY OR BRAINS -  Brains, actually; she has both, but as a young teenager and habitual jokester, intelligence is much more useful to her.

DOGS OR CATS -  D O G S. She refers to Rico, her Chorgi, as her son.

LAYER FIVE : DO YOU…

LIE -  What teenaged stoner doesn’t?

BELIEVE IN YOURSELF -  Too much, at times.

BELIEVE IN LOVE -  Definitely.

WANT SOMEONE -  Not intensely, but somewhat. She’s got more important concerns at the moment.

LAYER SIX : EVER BEEN …

BEEN ON STAGE :  For her school’s improv club, and for her middle school graduation.

DONE DRUGS :  Done, does, and will continue to do.

CHANGED WHO YOU WERE TO FIT IN :  Yeah :(

LAYER SEVEN : FAVORITES

FAVOURITE COLOR -  Green

FAVOURITE ANIMAL -  Coyotes, wolves, and dogs.

FAVOURITE MOVIE -  Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure  

FAVOURITE GAME -  EarthBound

LAYER EIGHT : AGE

DAY YOUR NEXT BIRTHDAY WILL BE -  in-universe, July 29th 2009 or 2010.

HOW OLD WILL YOU BE -  Fifteen or sixteen, respectively.

AGE YOU LOST YOUR VIRGINITY -  Not answering this one since she’s a kid.

DOES AGE MATTER -  Absolutely; Laney is a teenager who has age-appropriate dumb moments, but she’s self-aware enough to recognize that and that she still has a lot of growing up to do.

LAYER NINE : IN A PERSON

BEST PERSONALITY -  Chill/laid-back, not clingy, willing to let her keep her emotional distance, and funny.

BEST EYE COLOUR -  Brown

BEST HAIR COLOUR -  Any, although she particularly admires boldly dyed hair.

BEST THING TO DO WITH A PARTNER -  Smoke a bowl, eat junk food, pet Rico, and watch a movie.

LAYER TEN : FINISH THE SENTENCE

I LOVE -  “Rico. And my friends, and my old coworkers and boss, and my family- wait, Rico already is my family-”

I FEEL -  “...I don’t know, hungry I guess?”

I HIDE -  “anything deep or serious, so like, basically everything that actually matters to me nowadays, LMAO. And, you know, my bong.”

I MISS -  “Gus, Victor, and my mom. My childhood innocence, really.”

I WISH -  “I could’ve said goodbye.”

[bakugous-abs]

hello! may i request a scenario of izuku’s fem!s/o who doesn’t like seeing izuku hurts so she constantly takes hits for him? maybe she took a particularly bad one and izuku finally confronts her or something? thank you :)

Yo! Admin Hana tuning in to bring you my first request! Hope you enjoy reading it because I surely did writing it! 

Midoriya Izuku 

It happened again. It happened again and he couldn’t do anything but watch. Why? He was sure he had told you to stay back. To lay low and not push yourself too much, even if this mission was supposed to be easy. Supposed to, because he hadn’t considered the fact that you seemed less and less focused and on top of your game lately. He should have seen it sooner.

 Izuku and you had started to work as a duo a couple of months ago. It was his idea at first, because you two had that amazing chemistry that was a great advantage in battle, and because your quirks could mix up well… You had tried to convince yourself that you were only following along, but deep down you knew that you couldn’t bear even the mere thought of him getting hurt. The need to protect your dearest was too strong.

 But you were being reckless, way too reckless. Because you didn’t want your sweetheart to get hurt, you chose to be hurt in his place, almost messing up some missions because you just wouldn’t let him do his job. And that was hurting him. He loved you so, so much. You couldn’t see him get hurt? Well, he couldn’t see you get hurt either.

 Every time he tried to stop you. From getting out of his sights, from pushing yourself in the line of fire every time he found himself in a sticky situation. He couldn’t do this anymore! Why couldn’t you listen to him when he said to stand back ?!

 But that was the last straw. Seeing this… bullet? eyeball?… fly right through your shoulder was what sent him loose. The last thing you saw before everything went black was your sweet Deku - no, this wasn’t your sweet sweet boyfriend anymore. You saw the Hero Deku dash past you, only catching a glimpse of green hair before diving into the unknown.

•~•~•~•~• 

Beep.

 You flinched. 

Beep. Beep. 

Ugh. You knew that sound. You had been waking up a lot to it lately. You didn’t want to open your eyes, already knowing what you would see. Blinding light. White walls. Perfusion. Izuku’s frowning but somewhat untouched face.

 "F/N.“

 He sounded exhausted. He probably had spent whatever time you had spent here with you, watching over you like the dedicated boyfriend he was. 

“Come on, F/N. Please… open your eyes…" 

Oh, now that he was asking suddenly your eyelids wouldn’t budge. The weight of your body started to come back and you felt something warm in your hand. Probably his. Some cold droplets fell on your knuckles. Tears. 

He was crying.

 Come on, F/N, pull yourself together ! 

Digging in your last resources, you slowly turned your head towards the voice, blinking a few times to let your eyes adjust to the brightness. You were right. Blinding light. White walls. Perfusion. Izuku’s frowning face. But he wasn’t untouched. Oh no, he was beaten up. And angry.

Izuku stood up, letting go of your hand. Head hanging low, jaw clenched, eyes squeezed shut, fists balled, he looked torn between bursting into tears and screaming his lungs out. He was beyond angry. But he was also terrified and so, so disappointed in himself. He had let this happen to you. What would have he done if you hadn’t opened your eyes, ever ? He was angry at himself, because you almost died on his watch, and the thought was unbearable. But he was also angry at you. You were always so reckless !

 "I can’t do this anymore.“ 

He watched as your eyes widened slowly. You opened your mouth, but before you could say anything, he raised his head, making you gasp. His eyes were wide open, small tears forming in the corners. His brows were furrowed, his lips quivering. The hand you could move travelled upwards, covering your mouth, while his reached forward, grabbing your neck with his thumbs brushing your cheeks, bringing your face close to his.

 "F/N… Why won’t you understand? You’re always, always so reckless! Like you don’t care about your own life ! That’s-that’s enough… you don’t… you just…! You almost died because you tried to save me !" 

His eyes pierced into your own, green meeting E/C, and you realized how selfish you had been. Too focused on protecting him because you couldn’t lose him, you didn’t even consider the fact that he couldn’t lose you. 

He hugged you softly, careful not to touch your shoulder too much. His fluffy hair tickled your cheek. You smiled, hugging him back with your good arm. 

"Promise me you won’t scare me like that… ever." 

"I promise.”

[pinesconessecrets]

Secret Santa 2018- Christmas Eve

((Secret Santa to lazyunproductiveme.tumblr.com Who asked for either Librarian au, confessing under the Mistletoe, or dorks sleeping together. I decided to do a combination of the two. Was going to do all three, but I like what I have so far. I hope you like your secret Santa gift. If not, just tell me how I can make it better.))

((Enjoy! And Happy Yuletide!!!))

—

The bells above the door jingled, and a blast of cold air came rushing in from the outside. A young man slipped inside, quickly shutting the door behind him. In the sudden warmth of the library, the man unwrapped his scarf and pulled off his tan bomber cap, freeing his messy brown curls. Stuffing the hat and scarf in his backpack, he unzipped his puffy vest and took another step inside. Towers and towers of books surrounded him on all sides; Dipper took a deep inhale, taking in the scent of old leaflets and even a slight cinnamon undertone.

Even since he’d moved here, Dipper found himself drawn to this homey library, tucked away in town. They had all kinds of books he could want. A section just for science fiction; favorites like Ender’s Game, A Wrinkle in Time, 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, and of course, Star Wars. Large, dusty tomes far in the back, recollecting all of ancient history. Classic literature, Gothic horror, whimsical fantasy. And most importantly, It’s own mystery section, ranging from murder mystery, to cryptic legends and findings. It was Dipper’s favorite place in the whole library.

Well, almost favorite.

The only place better than the mystery section, was the front desk, where a certain handsome Librarian worked.

A man in his late 20’s, the man wore a simple white button up, brown slacks, and (currently) dark green suspenders over his button up. Dipper upon entering, saw the man sitting at his front desk, flicking through a well loved copy of The Great Gatsby. Of course, when the little bell rung, he momentarily stopped and looked up, meeting eyes with the young adventurer. He gave Dipper a nervous smile, and mumbled a very timid, “Good tidings, Mr. Pines. Book hunting again, are we?”

Dipper felt his own face flush several shades of vermilion. He reached back into his backpack and pulled out three books, all finished and ready to be returned. He stepped up towards the counter and passed the handsome man his books, trying not to shiver when the man’s elegant fingers briefly brushed against his in the trade off. Glancing down at the laminated nameplate on the desk, the name read Wirt Fischer. Even his name was debonair. “I just finished another great set, and I couldn’t wait to come back for more.”

Couldn’t wait to come back and see your face!

“I’m surprised someone is as passionate about reading as I am. I thought I was the only crazy one, keeping a bookstore open on Christmas Eve. I didn’t expect someone equally crazy would want to check out books on Christmas Eve.” Wirt put his head in his hand, smirking.

Dipper shrugged, wondering if the librarian could hear his heart jackhammering in his chest. “What can I say, there’s thousand of books to read, and I only have a limited time on this earth. I gotta retain as much knowledge as I possibly can.” He shuffled towards the mystery section, as expected.

Wirt watched him, clearly amused, “Typical. Off to the mystery section, I see. I’d figure you’d at least check out a book tied with the holidays. You know, a little festive reading?”

Dipper snapped his fingers at the other, internally regretting such a cheesy action seconds after it was too late. Attempting to salvage some dignity, he quickly turned on his heel and disappeared into the aisles of literature. He did not catch, nor hear, Wirt’s breathy chuckle. And he completely missed the look of endearment in the librarian’s eyes.

Wirt returned to his copy of The Great Gatsby. He knew it took Dipper a while to decide what to check out, even if they were books checked out thousands of times before by said adventurer. Wirt knew not to bother him on his hunt, though he hoped the young man would make a reappearance soon, as he quite enjoyed Dipper’s eccentric company.

Not to mention a rugged build that Wirt also didn’t mind admiring.

He waited and waited, forcing himself not to glance at his wrist watch. That would only make time move slower. No, no, he kept his eyes on the page, though after what felt like hours, he came to the realization that he had reread the same paragraph more than once. With a sigh, he closed his book, thoughts preoccupied.

Blissfully, Dipper returned, a new stack of books under his arm. He marched up to the counter, looking more confident than when he left and dropped the books in front of Wirt.

Curious, because he was always a bit snobby about what his patrons checked out, he subtly glanced at the titles of each book. “Yetis: The Arctic cousins of Bigfoot? The Christmas Heist of 1943? Table for one: True story of the Donner Party? And…Krampus, the Anti Claus.” Wirt glanced back at Dipper, one eyebrow raised skeptically.

Dipper grinned cheekily back at him, “You said check out something festive!”

Wirt rolled his eyes, but grinned affectionately, “Not exactly what I had in mind. Was thinking more along the lines of Charles Dickens, Chris Van Allsburg, O. Henry–heck, even Dr. Seuss would have worked.”

“What can I say, I live to exceed your expectations.”

Wirt’s cheeks turned a soft rosy hue, and Dipper realizing how that sounded, felt his own face heat up in embarrassment. “So, um, these books should be fine,” he mumbled.

Wirt nodded, swallowing the nervous lump quickly forming in his throat. Taking the books, he scanned each of them, signed them off, and then passed them back to Dipper.

As Dipper was putting them away, he kept going back and forth on whether or not he should continue talking. In fact, there was something on his mind, something he’d been meaning to say since he first entered. The trouble was actually gathering the confidence to ask the handsome man in front of him.

Fighting monsters, solving mysteries, and vanquishing demonic forces was nothing.

Talking to cute people was the real nightmare.

“Anything else I can help you with today, Mr. Pines.”

“You can just call me Dipper. I think I’ve been around enough times that we’re on a first name basis…I mean, of course, unless you don’t want to–”

“No, no! That’s…that’s perfectly fine, Mr. Pin–Um, Dipper. I think that’s a reasonable assessment.” Wirt nervously fiddled with the cover of his book, trying not to seem overly eager at being on first name basis with the adventurer.

“Great!–I mean, that’s good! Wonderful! Um, anyway, I um…there’s actually something I’ve been meaning to ask you, if that’s okay?” Oh dear god, he was flubbing, and badly.

“Of course, what can I do for you today?” Ugh, that sounded so robotic and work professional! Wirt tried not to openly cringe, his fingers nervously drumming on the cover of his book. When Dipper looked down, distracted by his drumming, he slammed his palm flat on his book to stop himself.

“Well, I was just wondering…do you have any plans for Christmas Eve?”

Wirt shook his head, “Not really. I’ll be working till five tonight–don’t want to be open too late– then I’ll close up, and head for home. Maybe pick up some take out for me and my brother on the way home? But other than that, nothing big planned. May I inquire why?”

He inquired, not asked. Dipper liked someone with a large vocabulary…oh god, he’d been single for too long, moving on. Fighting the hot blush off his face, Dipper continued, albeit with less enthusiasm, “Well, I was wondering. My family is having a little Christmas Eve get together, and it’s nothing big, but there will be food and good company, and I just, if you don’t have anything, maybe you’d like–if you’re interested–if it’s not too forward–” Dipper’s words stuttered off.

Wirt, thankfully, put him out of his misery, “Are you asking me to come? Is this the new way of asking people out? Are you asking me out?”

Dipper wanted to spontaneously combust on the spot, “M-maybe. It doesn’t have to be a date, just a simple hang out. It’s the holidays, holidays are nice to share with people.”

Wirt nodded in agreement, but he also seemed conflicted, “I wholeheartedly agree. Which is why I must politely decline.”

Dipper tried not to appear too disappointed, “Oh yes, alright. I’m sorry for bothering you about this–”

But Wirt was not finished, and quickly retreaded, “Oh please don’t think it’s anything against you. I would be more than happy to tag along. But like I said earlier, I’m spending Eve with my younger brother, and if I went with you, then he’d be all alone.”

The puzzle pieces were finally starting to fall into place. “OH! OHHH! Well of course he’s invited too.”

Wirt looked surprised, “Really? You’d let him come as well? You don’t even know him?”

Dipper nodded, relief washing over him now that he’d figured out the real reason for Wirt’s refusal. “Oh absolutely! The more the merrier. My wacky twin is hosting the party, and she loves meeting new faces, and making new friends. If you’re worried about your brother being alone, then there’s no need to fret, because of course he’s invited by extension. Both of your can come and enjoy yourself!”

Wirt pondered it for a moment. On one hand, it was a huge risk going to someone’s party, especially one you barely knew. Dipper, while being extremely cute to look at, was by all intents and purposes, a complete stranger. Who knew if he was actually who he said he was. Dipper could be an insane sociopath, and this party was just a guise to kidnap Wirt to do awful things to him! …Okay, maybe that was a stretch, he had to lay off the murder mystery section.

On the other hand, Wirt wasn’t getting many handsome suitors chatting him up or inviting him on outings. He didn’t meet many people who came into the library close to his age, and even if so, showing any desire towards him. Or have that desire be mutual. And he was definitely mutually attracted to this strange guy. Had been since he first saw him in his plaid button up, mud caked jeans, and bomber hat. Had been since Dipper had first awkwardly smiled back at him, then turned cherry red and disappeared into one of the aisles, muttering to himself. He was a nervous ball of energy: Exactly Wirt’s type.

Melting under Dipper’s charm–and to be perfectly candid, he wanted to come more than anything–he relented, “Then I’d be honored if you had us. Just send us the address and we’ll arrive around seven.”

Then in a stroke of confidence, he grabbed Dipper’s wrist, tender but firm, picked up his sharpie, uncapped it with his teeth, and neatly scrawled his number across Dipper’s skin. Satisfied, he released Dipper and recapped his marker. “I’ll see you tonight, then.”

Dipper stared wide eyed at the number on his wrist, desperately trying to remain calm, when inside every nerve was humming vibrantly. “Yes, s-see you tonight!”

And with that, Dipper bolted for the door, waving back behind him. Once outside, and down the large cement steps, Dipper let out a loud whoop and holler, his spirits soaring. He almost skipped for home. He didn’t of course, but the sentiment was there. Tis the season.

Back inside, Wirt let out a hearty giggle, and danced awkwardly in his seat. Until he realized what he was doing, to which he calmed himself once more. Still, the one thing he could not tame, was the large, childlike grin on his face.

—

Dipper walked back and forth, stopped to stare at the front door, then resumed his circle trailing.

“Dipper you’ve been at the door for almost 40 minutes. What are you waiting for?” Mabel walked by, stopping to stare at her brother, incredulously.

Dipper stopped and turned to her, “Sorry. I just, I’m wondering if Wirt will actually show up.” Dipper looked down at his feet, shuffling nervously from foot to foot. He once more glanced at the door.

“That cute librarian you’ve been talking nonstop about?” Mabel placed her hand on her hips, smirking.

Dipper nodded, keeping his head down so Mabel wouldn’t tease him about the red flush on his cheeks, “Yeah, I invited him, and he said he was coming. Ugh, but what if he was just humoring me? What if he was never planning to come at all? Oh god, he probably thinks I’m a creep! I can’t even come back to that library again; he’ll probably call the cops on me as soon as he–”

“Dipper!” Mabel rushed forward, slapping her hands on his shoulders. Dipper’s rambling came to a halt. Mabel continued, “You’re freaking out. Calm down bro bro! He’s probably just running late. Or he had to do something first. There’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for why he’s not here yet. And hey, if he did decide to leave you high and dry, well he was an asshole to begin with and not worth your time!”

Despite her best efforts, Dipper groaned at the prospect that he had been stood up.

Mabel rolled her eyes, “Listen bro bro, you’ve seen me go through all my awful boy crushes, and now I’m here to help you through all your awful boy crushes!” She patted him none too lightly on the shoulder.

“Ouch!…but thanks, Mabel. I can always count on you.” He reached over to give his sister an appreciative hug.

Ding Dong!

The moment the buzzer sounded, Dipper pushed past Mabel at a lightning speed, nearly sending her toppling.

“UGH! THANKS A LOT!” She yelled at him as he rushed for the door.

He mouthed an apology, took a second to collect himself, and then opened the door to the mist of two men in the middle of a heated discussion.

“Now be on your best behavior, because we’re guest and I–”

“–I know! I know! I’m not a baby anymore Wirt–”

“–Well you’re certainly acting like on–”

“Ugh, you’re so high strung, it’s annoying! Is it because of your dat–”

“–GREG, Shuuuuu–”

“—No, you shuuuuuush–”

The two came to a dead halt upon noticing the twins staring at them in the doorway.

Wirt straightened up, while the teen slumped a little lower, both of them clearly embarrassed. “Um, good to see you again Mr. Pine–Um, errr, Dipper, I mean. Good to see you again, Dipper.”

“Nice to see you again, Wirt.” He hoped he wasn’t swooning. Judging by Mabel’s not so subtle eyebrow wiggle, he figured he was definitely swooning.

Wirt turned to Mabel next, offering her his hand, “And I assume you must be Dipper’s twin sister, the host of this celebration. I would like to thank you for offering your home to us and Greg during the holidays. I hope we’re not interrupting anything important!”

Greg added, “Home? More like a mansion, you must be loaded!” He gazed up at the manor with eyes the size of dinner plates. Wirt smacked him on the head. “Ow! Hey!”

Mabel chuckled at the brother’s antics; reminded of her own sibling quarreling. She waved Wirt’s earlier comment away, “I’m glad to have you two. And no trouble at all. It’s family and friends, so don’t think you’ve intruded on anything. Me and Pacifica love having guests. Well, I do, but Paz is coming around quickly.  Also, pleasure to meet you, my name is Mabel Pines, the more beautiful and majestic of the twins!”

Dipper glared, but she pointedly ignored him.

Stepping back inside, she waved them in. Greg quickly ran inside, wanting to get a full glimpse of the place. Wirt once more apologized for their intrusion before stepping inside as well. Mabel glanced once more at Dipper, took the hint, and turned to Greg, “First of all, love your sweater. It’s cute–could use a little more pizazz, but I approve. Secondly, let me give you a tour of the place, you seem like you’d be very interested in touching all the silverware.”

Greg laughed, “I would like to see how a rich bitch lives,”

“Greg! Language!” Wirt snapped.

Greg replied by sticking his tongue out. Turning back to Mabel, who had looped her arm through his, replied, “Please show me the way, Miss Majestic Mabel. I’m Greg Campbell, Wirt’s ‘moody’ little brother!”

As they were leaving towards the dining room, the two young men heard Mabel reply, “Who wasn’t moody when they were your age?”

Now left to their own devices, Dipper and Wirt stood in the foyer, awkwardly avoiding eye contact. Sometimes Dipper would look at Wirt when he thought the other wasn’t look, and sometimes Wirt looked at Dipper when he thought the other wasn’t looking. This usually ended with them both looking at each other, and becoming more flustered.

“I’m…I’m glad you could make it,” Dipper coughed into his fist. God could he be anymore pathetically inept?

Wirt nodded, “Glad you invited us. Greg might not seem like it, but he was excited to come. He’s a sweet kid, and while he’s driving me nuts with his teenage rebellion, I can’t be too mad at him. I was a moody little shit–even worse, at his age.”

Dipper chuckled; he could listen to this librarian talk for hours. “No, no worries. I get it, we all were like that at one point. I’m just glad he has a cool older brother like you to help him through that awkward time.” Suddenly, a new thought entered his head, one that made his mood dampen. “I noticed that you didn’t mention your parents, are they not around or…” Dipper asked, treading lightly.

Wirt didn’t seem fazed by this questioning, “Oh no. My parents are just a two hour drive from here. Greg lives with me because there’s a liberal arts school nearby that Greg got into for his photography work. We’re actually going early tomorrow to visit them to celebrate Christmas, so don’t worry, they’re still very much alive. And as for that cool brother comment, I sadly have to refute such claims.”

Dipper internally sighed, glad to know he hadn’t brought up anything depressing. Changing tactics to something lighter, Dipper winked, “I don’t know, I think there’s merit. You look very cool to me.”

Wirt went as bright red as the stuffed Rudolph’s nose that was chilling in the foyer. “Well, thank you. It’s nice of you to think that. How are those books coming? I doubt you’ve started any, but I’d still thought I asked.”

“To be honest, I actually half way through one of the books,” Dipper said, a little too smuggly.

Wirt was, at least, impressed, “Really?”

“Yeah, probably would have finished it all if Mabel didn’t drag me into the kitchen to help her with the cooking.”

Wirt seemed even more impressed by this, “You cook?”

Dipper laughed, “Hardly. I can grill things up on the stove, but my sister is the amazing chef around here. Well, of course she’s the chef, this is her house. Well her’s and Paz’s, mostly Paz’s. Pacifica was born with a silver spoon in her mouth. She’s cool though, like her a lot better now than when she was a spoiled rich kid. –I’m getting off topic, what were we talking about?”

“Cooking?”

“Yes cooking! But yeah. Most of the food in the kitchen was made by Mabel and Paz. I did help with the ham though, so not completely useless. What about you, do you cook?”

“I do. I make dinner for my brother all the time. I’m not five star, but I feed us every day, and he doesn’t complain, so that should say something.”

“I’d love to try it sometime.” Oh that was a little too forward!

Wirt smirked, “Sure, I’d love to have you over sometime. Consider it a second date, if this first one goes well.”

DATE! HE SAID DATE! DIPPER HAD A SHOT!

Dipper tried not to squeak when he spoke again, “Um, how bout I show you around, we can meet some of my friends and family.” He put his hand against Wirt’s back, gently guiding him into the living room. He tried not to think about it too much. He was just, being a helpful tour guide, that was all. Nothing weird about it. Wirt’s movements also seemed a little stiff after he did that, but Dipper pretended it was just because he was in an unfamiliar area. Yep, sounds good enough.

When he chanced a glance at Wirt’s face, Wirt didn’t seem displeased by Dipper’s touch, just uncertain. Dipper hoped that was a good sign, and not a bad one.

Upon entering, Two old men where lounging on the couch, fighting over the remote. A woman with fall red hair sat on the couch opposite them, face in her phone. Occasionally she looked at the two men and rolled her eyes, back to her phone. Next to her was a Latino man and woman in their late 30s chatting with each other. The man stopped and looked at the two young men as they entered. “Oh hey there dude! And um…other dude!” Soos tipped his hat to them.

“Hey Soos. Melody, Wendy, Grunkle Stan, and Great Uncle Ford. This is Wirt, I invited him to join us for the evening, hope that’s okay.”

Grunkle Stan glanced behind him, “That your boyfriend you keep blabbering about.”

Dipper sputtered. Wendy looked up and failed to mask her snicker. Great Uncle Ford smacked his twin upside the head, chiding him, “Stanley, what did we talk about!”

“Oh hush up, poindexter! It’s my job as his dilapidating uncle to shamelessly embarrass him in front of his crush.”

Dipper wondered if he could get away with senicide. Was that not festive enough? What if he strangled him with tinsel? That be holly jolly enough.

Dipper side eyed Wirt, wondering if his family had scared the librarian off yet. While Wirt did look flustered at their teasing, he had a fond smile on his face, like this was all familiar to him. God he was a trooper. And Dipper might have fallen even harder for him in that moment.

While Ford and Stan argued back and forth, Soos, Melody and Wendy got up out of their seats to introduce themselves.

“Hey dude, name’s Wendy. Nice to meet you!” Wendy pounded her fist against Wirt’s, even though he seemed reluctant.

“Sup dude, the names Soos. I’ve known Dipper since he was just a little dude, so like, be cool to him and you’ll be cool to me…dude.” Soos took Wirt’s hand and shook vigorously, shaking all of him.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Melody, Soos’s wife. It’s really nice to have you. And just ignore the two arguing on the couch, they always do this.” Melody patted his shoulder, giving him a ‘you’ll get used to it all’ look.

Wirt was polite in his introduction back.

As Wirt was chatting with Soos and Melody, Wendy whispered in Dipper’s ear when she was sure only he could hear, “You really like them older, don’t you?”

Dipper thought he would die, “H-he’s not that much older. I don’t think. I’m pretty sure we’re closer in age than you and I are!”

Wendy chuckled, “Okay, true. He looks maybe a year or two older. Could just be his height, too. You’ve always liked them freakishly tall.” She shot Dipper another knowing smirk. He whimpered, trying not to cover his face with his hands and draw Wirt’s attention to them.

Having successfully embarrassed him, she eased up, “I think you have a good shot with this one. He’s dorky like you. You guys will look cute together, and I mean that.”

Dipper still wanted to die. But a part of him was relieved to have Wendy’s blessing. She was always cool like that.

From the kitchen they heard, “Wirt! Holy shit! Come look at all this food!”

Wirt sighed. He shot Dipper an apologetic look, and called back, trying not to shout even though they were rooms apart, “Greg, language!”

Dipper was at least thankfully to know he wasn’t the only one a little embarrassed by their family. He wouldn’t change them for the world, but it felt nice not too be the only one suffering. This might not be such a bad night after all, and if it was, being mortified by your family was a bonding moment, wasn’t it?

At the mention of food, everyone started crowding towards the kitchen, ready for dinner.

It was going to be lively, to say the least.

—

“Tonight was good. I know I’ve said it enough, and you’re probably sick of it, but thank you for inviting us.” Wirt said, bending down to tie his shoes.

Dipper rocked back and forth, smiling, “Glad you had fun. Hopefully my family wasn’t too crazy.”

Wirt glanced up, smirking, “I’m used to odd families. It was fun, nostalgic even.” He stood, dusting off his pants of any dirt he had collected. He looked back, and for a moment, just watched his brother giving Mabel’s potbelly pig tummy rubs. There was a large grin on his brother’s face. “It’s really nice to see Greg smiling more. Don’t tell him, but I’ve missed it.”

Dipper put a finger to his lips, “Your secrets safe with me.”

In the afterglow of good food, light conversation, and plenty of awkward merriment, the two just stood, looking at each other, not sure what to do next, but not feeling like anything else needed to happen. The silence was warm, and strangely, comfortable.

“I should probably get going.” Wirt rubbed the back of his neck. He made no effort to move.

Dipper nodded, “Yeah, it’s getting late, and the road’s will get icy. It be safe to head off now.” He also made no attempt to move away from the moment they had created.

A lone, loud whistle drew them attention upwards. Leaning over the stairs, smirking wickedly at the two was Pacifica. Holding a mistletoe suspended over their heads.

Dipper wanted to die. “Pacifica! What the fuck! How could you betray me like this? I thought we were friends.”

Pacifica shrugged, “Mabel promised me she’d stop singing Christmas carols for the rest of the holidays if I did this. And girlfriends outweigh best friends. Sorry, Dipstick!” She was clearly not sorry.

Seconds later Mabel was down the steps, squeezing next to Pacifica, camera in hand, “I didn’t miss it, did I?” She looked between the two, eagerly.

Wirt smirked, unusually cool. Perhaps it was that single cup of eggnog that had loosened him up. “We were just heading out, so no, you haven’t missed saying goodbye to us.”

Mabel frowned, “Not exactly what I was talking about. You do know what’s hanging over you, right?”

“Mabel~” Dipper growled in warning.

Wirt nodded, “It’s Mistletoe. It’s a Christmas tradition that if you stand under a mistletoe with someone, you have to kiss them. Am I correct?”

Mabel smirked, “Then you know you have to kiss him.”

Wirt shook his head, “It’s a Christmas tradition. Sad to say, I celebrate Yule, which is the old pagan tradition. While very similar to Christmas, there are a few things that differ from the Christian holiday. Such as that little plant you’re holding over us now. Mistletoe back then was used as a way to honor the Winter Celestes, as Paganism is all about appreciating nature. Mistletoe was a way to let the sun know that we appreciated and valued all it had done for us, and even in these harsher environments, it’s love still made life bloom, even under all that freezing snow. So to me, mistletoe has no meaning other than a way to honor the nature of the old pagan holiday, and give thanks to the season of winter.”

Mabel’s mouth fell open in shock. Dipper stared at him with wide eyes. Greg was snickering behind his hands. And Pacifica looked unperturbed by the whole thing. She shrugged once more, then rested a hand on Mabel’s slumped shoulders.

“It’s okay darling, we can enjoy mistletoe the Christmas way,” she coaxed, lifting the mistletoe over their heads and planting a loving kiss on the top of her girlfriend’s bushy head. Mabel smiled, a little more heartened.

Wirt once more thanked the trio, then headed for the door, Greg a few steps ahead. Dipper followed him to the door, closing the door behind him so not to be interrupted.

“I can’t believe you intellectually sassed my sister into silence,” Dipper chuckled at the memory.

Wirt seemed a little guilty, even as he smiled alongside Dipper, “Perhaps that was a bit harsh, but I didn’t like the idea of being filmed on camera. No matter how sweet she seems, I’m not very fond of having my privacy invaded.”

Dipper agreed, “Trust me, I know more than anything. Mabel can be kind intrusive and a little nosy. She means well, always has, but even I get more than a little frustrated with her match making skills.”

“Sad, I don’t think she needs to play matchmaker. I think you’re doing just fine on your own.”

Dipper felt his heart skip a beat. “Yeah?”

A small part of him, really wished Wirt had kissed him. Humiliating as it would be to have his sister and her girlfriend watching, and photographed evidence, the reward of getting to feel Wirt’s lips against his would have been worth it.

Greg, who had been silently watching the two for awhile, had finally had enough. He rolled his eyes and snatched the keys out of Wirt’s hands, “Gross! I’ll meet you at the car. Don’t take too long flirting!” He took two steps and paused. He looked at Dipper, his expression softening, “This was really fun. I hope I’ll see you around more.” And with that, he took off, leaving the two alone.

Dipper could see that Greg meant well; he was even reminded of Mabel in some ways. “Your brother’s sweet.”

Wirt chuckled, “I know. Under his bratty phase, he’s got a real heart of gold. I know he really enjoyed your sister and her house. I hope he made a good impression with her–”

Dipper already knew he had. “Don’t worry, my sister loved him. I’m sure you guys will be invited back.” He made sure to emphasize the both of them; he wanted Wirt to know he was welcomed. Dipper really wanted to welcome him back to his house, but that was for another time.

“I shouldn’t keep Greg waiting,” Wirt replied, clearly reluctant to go.

Dipper tried not to keep him. “Yeah. I wish you could stay longer, but I know I’ll see you again soon. I got library books to return, after all.”

Wirt perked up, “That you do.”

Then, because he was a bit curious, Dipper asked one last thing that had been on his mind since Wirt had mentioned it, “What you said about the mistletoe. Is that really what it means for Yule?”

Wirt smirked, “No.”

Then he leaned over and pressed a chaste kiss to Dipper’s cheek. When he pulled back, he was blushing hotly, but there was a spark of mischief in his eyes, “Mistletoe was always about friendship and love. That old tradition hasn’t changed.”

Dipper felt like his heart was going to jump right out of his throat. “Oh…”

“Goodnight Dipper. Have a happy holidays!”

As he turned, Dipper leaned over and pressed his lips against Wirt’s cheek. Wirt looked back, stunned, “Have a happy holidays, Wirt.” He repeated, mischief dancing in his eyes, the same way Wirt’s had.

Wirt felt like he might float off on happiness alone.

The two boys parted, spirits high after their farewell. Hearts filled with hope that their relationship would only grow stronger from here. The holidays certainly were a magical time.

Have yourself a Merry little Christmas,

Make the Yuletide Gay!

[kpopchangedme]

I was tagged by @not-all-that-chic & @def-initely-soul <3 <3

☆ Rules ☆

-   Answer these questions about yourself and tag people!

☆ About You ☆

Hair Color? Dark Bown.

Is your hair long or short? Boyish short. As in nonexistent As in I’m still freaking out over my last haircut

Eye Color? Dark Green.

Blood Type? O+. (are you coming for my organs? Jokes on you, I already sold a kidney to afford the Eyes on You Tour)

Nickname(s)? Lyly, Lys, that Jaebum thirsty b*tch

Relationship Status? Single.

Pronouns? She/Her.

Tattoos? Two. A Fleur de Lys to represent my French heritage, behind my right ear. A Harry Potter one on my right foot, just above my toes.

Piercings? 5. Three on my left lobe. One on my right lobe. And my belly button, cuz it’s Britney B*tch. 

Do you want (more) piercings or tattoos? Probably. lol.

Right or Left handed? Right.

Zodiac? LEO..

☆ RIGHT NOW, WHAT ARE YOU… ☆

Eating? Tom Yum chicken soup.

Drinking? Red Bull. (it’s on the side, waiting for after I finish my meal. I’m not that much of a weirdo.)

Listening to? Candy Cane - Taeyeon. (My K-Christmas Spotify playlist)

About to watch? Listen to a Reply All podcast. (does it count?)

Waiting for? Trivia night at our usual pub, the theme is Disney this week.

☆ THE LAST… ☆

Phone Call? My brother. He was picking me up to go eat dumplings.

Text Message? A guy name Erik. I texted him: “I’m looking for more. I’m not only a hook up.” (I promised there was a context lol). He replied 24 HOURS LATER: “Alright, that’s understandable.”

Song you listened to? Confession Song - GOT7 

Last time you cried? I listened to a Reply All (I’m obsessed) investigation about racist bullying in private college and cried. Racism. Bullying. what a horrible and sad world we live in where people of colour can’t feel safe and accepted. ever. 😞

☆ HAVE YOU EVER… ☆

Dated someone twice? No. I barely dated once lol.

Kissed someone and regretted it? Oh yeah.

Kissed a stranger? Yep. Plz refer to the previous question 🤣

Been cheated on? No.

Had sex on a first date? Yeah... 

Lost someone special? Not really. (apart from death, idk if that counts)

Been depressed? First year of Uni.

Drank hard liquor? Oh yeah. I tried Absinthe yesterday actually. Regretted my life decisions in under 5 minutes.

Gotten drunk and thrown up? Yes. Tequila

Talked to a person named Tom? ... sure...

Had surgery? Yes, a plastic one at that. Ask away. 

Lost your glasses? Like... at least once a month? lol

Turned someone down? Yes. I’m getting real good at it.

Broken someone’s heart? Yes. Unfortunately.

Had your heart broken? No. I’m a freaking stone wall that never lets anyone in. lol.

Been arrested? Not yet. 😇 The cops still haven’t found the bodies.

Cried when someone died? Yes. 

Fallen for a friend? No. Never been in love.

☆ IN THE LAST YEAR, HAVE YOU… ☆

Made new friends? Yes. Mostly online.

Fallen out of love? No.

Laughed until you cried? Everytime I hang out with my besties, so at least twice a week lol.

Found out someone was talking about you? No.

Met someone who changed you? No.

Found out who your friends are? No... I already know them by heart after all those years. They never disappoint 😍

Kissed someone on your Facebook friends list? That Erik is my fb friend, so yeah.

☆ FAVOURITE… ☆

Drink? Red Bull.

Color(s)? Green, Red, AHGASE GREEN.

TV Show(s)? Friends.

Sport(s)? Hockey. Karaté.

Movie(s)? The Exorcist (1973) or Rosemary’s Baby (1968)

Actor(s)? Michael B. Jordan. Lee Jehoon.

☆ DO YOU BELIEVE IN… ☆

Miracles? Nope.

Love at first sight? Ugh... not really. But my parents got infatuated at first sight and still are together after waya over 30 years.

Santa Claus? No. Am I 8?

Kissing on a first date? Depends on the person, you know when the mood is right.

Angels? No.

Yourself? YEAH

☆ WHICH IS BETTER? ☆

Hugs or Kisses? Kisses.

Lips or Eyes? Eyes smile

Shorter or Taller? Taller...

Older or Younger? similar age (or younger? Chan... and Jaebum. oh my goodness, I’m in trouble!)

Nice arms or nice stomach? Arms. BACK. SHOULDERS

Hookup or relationship? Relationship. LOL, reffer to previous question definitely relationship.

Troublemaker or hesitant? Hesitant. (for him? Hesitant. I cause enough trouble for two. you’re welcome.)

☆ RANDOM ☆

What’s your best friend’s name? my squad is pretty tight from high school. But Sab (@hobi-my-hubby), Reb, Étienne & Flo (@florenceisnottrash), our newest addition. 

What is something you can’t wait for? rn Christmas.

What time did you wake up today? 8:00am.

Do you want to change your name? No. I like Lysandre a lot.

What did you do for your last birthday? 25 is a big number. So a big family party with around 40 people in a outfitter near Montreal. We drank from dusk to dusk lol and enjoyed a lot of nautical sports.

What were you doing at midnight last night? not gonna lie. reading fics.

What is something that gets on your nerves? RUDENESS.

Do you have a crush on someone? No.

What’s your most visited website? Tumblr.

Where do you want to go on vacation? Asia in general. New York, Boston, since those a road trip achievable.

What kind of trainers do you like/wear? Champion. Reebok.

How many Facebook friends do you know IRL? about 96%

Do you have pets? GLAD YOU ASK. At the flat, a kiity named Xena the Warrior Princess. At my parents, two Cornish Rex cats: Kaly & Monroe.

Do you want to get married? I’d like it, mostly for the lovely party and occasion to all celebrate love with my friends and fam, but it’s really not important for me.

What career do you want to have? I mean... I’m adulting rn

What is something you want? Win the trivia tonight (free beer), quality time with my friends & for my family to be healthy.

What do you like about yourself? I like myself a lot tbh, haha. I have flaws, but I work on them. I’m etremely loyal and resilient, two qualities that are really important to me, so there’s that.

Tagging: @1lovemarklee, @yehet-me-up, @hobi-my-hubby & @jeonocho

[finding-jericho-blog]

Tag Game!

I was tagged by @deviantramblings what a nerd am i r i g h t ??? <3

Last

Drink: Starbucks mocha frappe, the bottled kind!

Phone Call: It was my mother, a couple of days ago when I was on vacation! I don’t talk on the phone often at all xD

Text: Toooo my mother, “Thank you >:D” (she brought me that coffee!)

Song: SIAMÉS - "The Wolf"

Time You Cried: Uuuhhhh a couple of days ago, while I was on vacation (IT WAS DEFINITELY A RELAXING VACATION, ABSOLUTELY!!)

Ever

Dated someone twice: Noooo, I don’t make the same mistake twice. X’DD

Kissed someone and regretted it: Nah!

Been cheated on: Nope!

Lost someone special: I grandfather when I was very young, my great grandmother fairly recently.

Been depressed: Yes, of course.

Gotten drunk and thrown up: Nope! I drink very little, and when I do, I don’t drink a lot at a time.

Favorite colors: Orange, aqua blue, yellow, green!!! <3

In the last year you have

Made new friends: OH YES!!! <3 

Fallen out of love: I don’t.... think so?

Laughed until you cried: A lot!

Found out someone was talking about: ... Found out someone was talking about what???? This question is the confusion.

Met someone who changed you: Definitely, my friends that I’ve made definitely have!

Found out who your friends are: I guess so?? I don’t know, it’s not been quite nearly that dramatic. XD

Kissed someone on your Facebook friends list: On the cheek?? Yes, my mother and my father! XD

General

How many of your Facebook friends do you know irl: Pretty much all of them, I do have lots of internet friends on there, a couple of whom I’ve met in real life!

Do you have any pets: I have three cats! Milo, Miwa, and Mischa! 

Do you want to change your name: Nah, I’m chill with my name. 

What did you do for your last birthday: It was my 22nd birthday, I think I had a lunch at Chile’s and then had cake at my house, then had dinner later at my grandmother’s house with my father! And theeeen.... visited my other grandparents for a sec and relaxed the rest of the night. c:

What were you doing at midnight last night: I was watching youtube and working on my reply for @deviantramblings and I’s rp, and looking at our discord longingly. X’DDD

What is something you can’t wait for: Um.... Well my birthday is the 20th and I’ve asked for DBH (because I’m a pleb who only watched people play it) and I’m also gonna get some posters... And cake will be tasty.. And I look forward to my next roleplay reply... I’m looking forward to sleeping tonight. I’m tired. XD

What are you listening to right now: One of ChilledChaos’ videos, it’s on in the background as I type this~

Have you ever talked to a person named Tom: I had a great uncle named Tom but I only talked to him once.

Something that gets on your nerves: Mmmmm pretty normal stuff, people who chew with their mouths open, people who are J E R K S, people who are constantly throwing themselves a pity party and always have to one up you when you have something wrong with you..

Most visited website: MMMM.... I visit a lot of sites about the same amount, but I’d say... YouTube probably. X’D

Hair color: Auburn

Long or short hair: LOOONG, it’s past my booty! 

Do you have a crush on someone: Well, I think so?? XD

What do you like about yourself: Ugh... hmm.. I can draw sometimes, I’m alright at writing, my hair is pretty neat, I like my hazel eyes (did you know hazel eyes are called central-hetrochromia???) I can get a long with most anyone as long as they aren’t total assholes, I’m easy to please... IDK??? 

Want any piercings: Nah I don’t wanna willingly impale myself. xD

Blood type: My mother says I’m AB+ but I don’t know if she even remembers, so.. I don’t know?? MAYBE AB+? XD

Nicknames: HMMM... Leesi, Lee, Smiley, Sissy, Feather, Chicka-Dee (my grandma)... That’s about it really!

Relationship status: Taken

Zodiac: Virgo!

Pronouns: She/her!

Favorite tv shows: Stranger Things, Doctor Who, The Originals, Game of Thrones, ... um... shoot I haven’t watched too many tv shows lately.. hmm..

Tattoos: Two

right or left handed: Right!

Ever had surgery: Nope! Piercings or ear piercings: None!

Sport: You mean like... going outside... and doing t h i n g s ? No thanks~

Vacation: L O T S, my family and I went to Florida a LOT, but I’ve been all over the US!

More general

Eating: Ramen right now!

Drinking: Coffffeeee... because I’m going to go to sleep soon and I like to torture myself.

About to watch: Still watching ChilledChaos on Youtube!

Waiting for: Everything XD

Want: Mmm... I could go for these hazelnut wafer wrap things I get sometimes, they’re so tasty but they’re always out of stock! D:

Get Married: Well, yeah, hopefully--- maybe?

Career: Artist??? I guess?

Which is better

Hugs or kisses

Lips or eyes

Shorter or taller (I’m 5`0 everyone is taller than me)

Older or younger

Nice arms or stomach (?? I don’t care about this so idk)

Hookup or relationship

Troublemaker or hesitant

Have you ever

Kiss a stranger: No!

Drunk hard liquor: Nope!

Lost glasses: I’m pretty sure I did nothing but lose my glasses when I wore them XD

Turned someone down: Yes

Sex on first date: No!

Broken someone’s heart: I hope not! D:

Had your heart broken: Mmmm... nah, I wouldn’t say that. felt disappointed, yes, but not had a broken heart.

Been arrested: No XD Cried when someone died: Well yes, of course.

Fallen for a friend: Yeeaaaah. It worked out tho!

Do you believe in

Yourself: Sometimes.

Miracles: Eh..

Love at first sight: Mmm, nah I don’t think so? Love takes time. 

Santa Clause: When I was younger of course!

Kiss on the first date: Maybe!! 

Angels: Mmmm... naaaah.

Others

Best friend’s name: Maite, Lauren ( @deviantramblings ) Nikki, Michelle

Eye color: Hazel!

Favorite movie: S O MANY UMM.. Lord of the Rings/Hobbit, Home, Inside Out, TMNT: Out of the Shadows... sooo many more..

Favorite actors: Bryan Dechart, Jesse Williams, Valorie Curry (I L O V E THEM ALL), Chris Pratt, Emilia Clarke, Sophie Turner, I really enjoy Johnny Depp (even if he’s an asshole), Orlando Bloom... basically anyone from my fandoms really they’re all my favs <3

Tagging: Uhhh.... uh.... I don’t... have many people to tag... This is awkward. Listen just.. Do this if you want to and tag me like I tagged you, deal???

[stan-and-the-newbie]

A kpop newbie’s reaction to LOONA

you know i had to do it to ‘em

Alexa: bold

Alex: italic

okay so today you're reacting to Loona!

o, noice

they just debuted like two days ago and everyone is crying

damn. ok but do any of them speak english <<

y es

n  u  t

i believe i already told you, they built this Loonaverse, and released a girl each month

yeh, you told me a few things

right. all of them have an animal and a color. the first five girls have an additional location, then the next three girls have a superpower, and the last four girls have a fruit

...alexa. t-twelve

yeah

<-<

>->

alright fam hit me up

okay, the first girl that was released, back in 2016, is heejin

damn she looks like a disney princess

she does;;

this is aN INSULT

isnT IT

someone arrest her, she's not allowed to be so cute. it is illegal.

how old is she and what does she do

uhh she's 21and she's a singer

she iS BORN IN 2000

... ALEXA WE'RE MOVING TO KOREA PACK YOUR SHIT

ill give you her music video now

alright

the location is hard to guess, so just try to guess her color and animal

hmm

*ViViD*

i'm not watching this u freak, you know about my arachnophobia

y tho. there are no spiders

THERE IS ONE IN THE THUMBNAIL, BIG AND RED

there are no spiders, so play the song, its good. no girl has the spider as her animal u coward

the song's aight. i'd listen to it in a cafe. her animal is obviously a bunny and her color is either red or white. asian girls with thick thighs are too powerful alexa. someone needs to do something about them. it's a health hazard.

omf. her color is actually hot pink;; but u got her animal right lol

o damn. well pink is the mix between red and white isn't it >>

ooOOO

pFFF

she's part of the first subunit, 1/3

ah, so she's a colonel

omG. i mean, y'know, subunits are some of the members that form like a band of their own and put out music

with 12 bloody members, i can imagine

loona has three. anyway, a few things about heejin

hit me

she’s a whole cutie

o gee i couldn't notice

sdfdsdf she likes dad jokes and randomly breaks into silly and awkward dances but she doesn't care. she's also afraid of pigeons 

the guards would have to restrain me from pinching her cheeks if i was ever in the same room with her. and to be fair those things are chaotic evil. one literally flew into my face once.

omf

they also carry diseases similarly to rats. except they fly. so yeah, i can see why one would be afraid.

she also named a rabbit from the set "heekki". hee from her name, and kki from the korean word for rabbit, tokki. and proceeded to ask if she could adopt it.

that's adorable go away i am stone cold

is there anything else u want to know about her. her location is paris, and the first ever video of her beside her mv was her repeating random french phrases she knew in the airport

pfffF.

the next member is hyunjin

they’re all so pretty i cry

they are :(

they are like porcelain dolls, but without the creepiness of a doll, just the beauty and cuteness

i KNOW. so, how old is she

hmm 20 and she's a rapper

she is ALSO born in 2000 ;D and she's a singer

i-

here's her music video

after mark's video on that cat game, the thumbnail horrifies me

o-oh

alight so her animal is a kitteh. so she's the neko of the group, noice... is this a thriller film, geez.

ghjkjhghjk its just a kitten smh

an e v i l kitten

cats cant be evil. her song is very kdrama-ish

her color is... i honestly have no idea

her color appears in the first third of the video

green? blue?

she wears it

lemon

yeh, yellow. and yes her animal is cat lol. what about the song? it’s a drastic change from the last one

ok that last part horrified me. idk it's a weird mix between depression and a drug trip

so, about this baby. her location is tokyo, and she is the savage one

o-oh

shes the one that kept a blank face on a rollercoaster while the others were screaming. also, she really likes bread and croissants

and she's not a rapper smh. well, she does have a pretty voice.

she does~ and shes really sporty, practiced a lot of sports before becoming an idol

alright, off to my wife. this is haseul.

and no photo makes her justice

i-

UGH queen

that jawline fam

i’m sorry i just. literally have never seen such a beautiful woman

alright by now i'm about 70% convinced that these people are created in underground governmental labs

m e. aight, how old is she

fucc it, she's uhh 18

she's actually born in 1997 dfgfdsdfgh

OF COURSE. sigh. that's just my luck

but i understand u

they all look between 15 and 20 anyway does it really matter- i- she's more pretty than she is cute. respecc.

this is her music video

her color is bleagh. i mean bleuugh. blue

omf

she's a parappa the rapper. but she's also a singer. idk her voice sounds like she can rap. was that plane just there and they used it or did they buy a gigantic plane prop for the video

(i really hoped alex would say this because this video exists)

i-

she’S TRYING. her color is green but her location is iceland so liek,,, i guess the writers clashed ideas

blasphemy. they should have went for turquoise

her animal is a dove. she’s also the leader of the group, and the mom friend #1. she can speak english but she has a cute accent which i Love

awh

aaaand she’s a seal enthusiast

o. that's something

they went to iceland so she was like "omg a seal!!! hi !! that was a seal!!"

pffa whole cutie

she is :( she’s also really funny

anyway, the next one makes me feel worthless. this is yeojin

another flawless creation of the secret korean labs

her age?

that tissue-printing chamber in that korean lab from avengers 2? not fiction - they use it to create idols. uhh 19

:D she is 15!!!1

...

and turns 16 in november !!

Goodbye. Tty later, i gotta pack my stuff

dfgfdGHJH here is her song. its very cute because, well, shes a child

L O L I C O N    A L E R T. those three dudes are terrifying. is that the joker wearing a frog head

mmmmaybeh

this is weird lmfao. aaand there's the foot fetish

you’RE HORRIBLE

why is the frog dude going all roaring reeo on her only to give her a fucking present

well, its a song about how she doesn’t want the relationship to move too fast, so she doesn’t want to kiss the dude just yet

that ending was just... idk man. this one broke me. her color is red, and her animal is a frog because that's the only animal in the foreground here idfk

her color is orange, close enough. the other members call her "bean" because shes the youngest and rlly smol and chubby.

awh ;;

and everyone treats her like a baby lmao

well, what did u expect. hmm i think i like the first one the best so far

o, alright

so, these past four girls and the fifth one form the subunit 1/3. the fifth one was introduced through the subunit's first song, but i'll give u their second song cuz its Better

*check out “Sonatine it’s superior*

basically, these girls have a very dreamy concept with a lot of piano and strings. the fifth girl is the pink haired one, and baby yeojin isn’t here cuz her grades were dropping lmao

i-

shhhh just listen to the song

this song gives me the sad

u gotta appreciate the animu songs

i do, i was literally gonna say that this one somewhat reminds me of miia's second song

same !!

her color is W H I T E like my teeth. p u r e  w h i t e

she haS HER OWN mv

o

the fifth member is vivi

shes chinese and the oldest

from communism to idolization. noice

i-

so she's wot, 21? 22?

yeh, shes turning 22 this year

noice

here’s her song

a break from the animu songs. ps: they dont come back

sad. kinda stalkerish fam

ikr. shes a hooman here. but in the subunit mvs she’s an android

what

idk fam they go all out and no one knows whats happening

i am gonna get bashed for this but when she smiles her cheeks look kinda weird she kinda looks like a chipmunk? but not in a bad way

ghjkHJ she does;; shes cute though

yeah

her color is her haircolor lawl. pastel rose

o, nice

and her animal is deer

so she's basically bambi gotcha

she speaks english, and shes the reaction memes queen. and shes also very smol

awh ;;

alright, we're done with 1/3. is heejin still your favourite?

yepp

cuz we're entering girl crush land

o h

the sixth member is kim lip

LISTEN YOU'RE NOT ALLOWED TO DO THIS

she’s cute tho

of course she is. they're all cute perfect goddesses. i'm noticing a pATTERN HERE

hey, shes mostly a tsundere

well, ngl, she looks like one

sdfgfds

she chose charmander tho 10/10

here’s her amazing mv. her animal appears for 1 second here so lmao good luck. her color is very obvious

white, at long last

the other one

FUCK

SDFGFDSD

red?

yes

that building is aesthetic would hang out there with my weird friends 10/10. the song is odd, but it's nice

i think the song really suits her voice

it does! that's why it works

her animal is an owl

n o i c e

also in one of her vlogs all she does is talk about food. she also keeps the members company while theyre shooting their mvs!! and shes also a reaction meme queen. she sings, but her main strength is dancing

yeah, i can tell

oh right !! she is in the odd eye circle subunit, and these girls have super powers. imma tell you now, the odd eye circle members are in different planes. like, theyre in different dimensions, not the flying planes lol

umm alright..?

anyway, her super power is speed. aaaand i think thats it with kim lip

the next one is a fan favourite. jinsoul

oof. idk man the blond is weird

oh, is it. i dunno, i feel like it suits her.

hammers in that "created in an underground lab to be flawless" vibe. idk, maybe a darker shade? like a golden blonde?

most people choose her song as their favourite

singing in the rain? is tom holland gonna come in and dance to "umbrella"?

oh my god

if not i'll be disappointed. the song reminds me of minecraft intros lmao. especially that synth part

geT OUT LMAO

the dancing is lewd af tho. so 8/10

well, so was eclipse. girl crush land

is she a necromancer? because those hips kill me and bring me back to life

i knOW. she can sing, rap and dance. triple threat. okay you cant possibly be wrong about her color and animal

uhh blue and fish. idk wot fish but a fish

y e s. its a blue betta fish. she said, and i quote "the blue betta fish is one that needs to be kept alone, because it eats the other fish in her tank. so i'm going to take over the group like that"

i- IS THE ENTIRE SECOND SUBUNIT SASSY

SDFGHGFDSSDFGH shes very oblivious and confused also idk if i should show you this but its hella funny and falls into the dumb blonde stereotype. she acts cute in a live stream and then she just

*that beautiful face plant video*

and at the enD KIM LIP IS LIKE "yes. whats next?" and looks through the comments

i-is she ok

yeah, she just stays there like ten seconds and then lifts her head while laughing. her superpower is teleportation btw. anyway, shes just very oblivious and awkward

nice man

the next member is choerry

oof, she qt. her color is purple.

yes. she doesnt like cherries btw

of course. why doesn't she like them? they're gud ;; maybe they remind her of all the bad puns she must have had to endure

i- most likely tbh. she prefers her actual name too sdfgfdsasdf. but choerry is a play on her name. cho yerim.

ah, i see

here's her song that takes a very weird turn and supports further the girl crush concept lawl

i expect lewd dancing. wot’s her animal?

a bat

e d g y. they made her eat a cherry. the monsters

i know, the madmen

o, here comes the lewd dancing. oof, that was short, but it was cool. back to... this??

it happens more than once. hmm, its a really nice song tbh

yeah, it was pretty nice

shes the bright, positive one

and managed to feed a squirrel out of her hand, so shes a princess confirmed

o damn how tall is she. she looks pretty tall in this pic

oh my god all of them are so small i literally cannot cope

;-; pure babies

hmm i think this is old information but the tallest is 165 sdfsGHJKJHJ

o damn

it says here shes 160. p u r e. her super power is plane travelling, like, shes the only one who can meet both kim lip and jinsoul. thats why i told you about the dimension thing

..alright..? this seems pretty redundant, idk. the whole superpower thing and the different planes thing is just odd. what purpose do they serve

well, its basically a whole universe, i guess it ties to the whole story

there's a story? uhh

yeah, but we won't get into that too much. here's odd eye circle's debut song

oh, this song is... something. i could live without the weird distorted voice. fucc yes more lewd dancing. well, that was trippy.

anyway, the third subunit is called yyxy, and it has "fall from eden" as their concept

o

the first member from this subunit is yves, pronounced as eve but it gotta be fancy y'know

oo, noice. please for the love of god tell me her color is white

no one's color is white

well, it’s not a color ;D

ug h. anyway, here’s her song.

hecc yes more lewd dancing

omf

the song is.. odd. GET OUTTA HERE HER COLOR IS TOTALLY WHITE. EVERYTHING HERE I WHITE. SHE WEARS ALL WHITE.

:( her apple is burgundy

what. is that- is that her color

yeah

...i quit.

fgfdghjkghjGHJ

well, that was something

her name is eve, so people speculate the song and mv are about her living a normal life after falling from eden y'know. anyway, shes the mom friend #2

o, interesting pFF

she was very awkward at the beginning, when she first was introduced

awh ;;

and her animal is a swan

AND HER COLOR ISN'T WHITE GET OUTTA HERE

fgfdsdfg shes also pretty savage now that she isnt as shy, but she takes care of the members, since shes one of the older membersGHJKJHGHJK

wholesome

shes very cute i like her uwu

the next one is an actual animu waifu. her name is chuu

i-

and she is the full of cuteness member

yeah i can teLL. the second image scraped my stone heart

yes, she softens everyone. here’s her mv, and the other girl is yves. and chuu is more or less in love with her. lesbian icon

alexa ur doing the thing, but reverse

SHES LITERALLY STALKING YVES AND GIVING HER AN APPLE AND THE SONG IS ABOUT ROMANTIC LOVE get outta here

ALL OF THESE BANDS ARE BASICALLY FAMILIES YALL SHIPPING THEM IS INCEST

ASDFGFDSDFGHJ but yves just shot a heart at her

it's a music video smh

hey, im not saying shes gay for yves in real life, just in, like, the universe theyre building

ah, i see. the choreography is gud. and the whole music video is nice. and the song is nice too. alright, what's her color

peach

do these people only know red and blue variations. THERE ARE OTHER COLORS OUT THERE

her animal is penguin, hence her posing with a penguin plushie in that photo

awh ;;

and her fruit is strawberry. she also sang a kids show ost before she became an idol :( and the other members make her act cute sometimes in front of the camera because everyone loves her. take dis

:'c

when she does the winking thing she stops and asks "why am i doing this..." and the others are just "because its cutE"

s-STONE COLD I AM S T O N E C O L D

anyway, yes, we all love chuu

we have two members left, keep your head in the game

i'm in it to win it

the second to last member is go won

speaking of winning, apparently she already did

she is a real life doll- oh my god alex

yet another qt what is new. cute dolls. cute talented dolls e v e r y w h e r e

i remember her song just because of the way she sings "baby" there

o

*check out “One&Only” yall*

ah, i see. some nice cinematography here. she has an interesting voice

shes mostly a rapper

yeah, i can picture that. that was a pretty nice song

her color is eden green :3

n o i c e

her animal is butterfly and her fruit is pineapple

but does she like it on pizza tho >> that is the question

she's kinda cold, but shes pretty oblivious, the staff messed with her saying that "adam" is her stage name (adam translates to "small" in korean) and she actually believed them and she didnt get the joke either affdsdfg

;-; god bless

shes pretty savage tho, we have three so far

oof

she is olivia hye

and she does not appreciate olive jokes

she's pretty 0^0

she is~

wot's her personality

shes very blunt and she seems like someone that might succeed at being a famous blogger

o damn

she always speaks her mind. i haven’t really seen her play around, but that doesn’t mean i don’t find her funny sdfgfsdfg

pff the mom friend

hmm, she doesnt really take care of the others, shes the second youngest

o rlly

but she does boast about how shes the only one without a fear of heights jasdfjks

pfff alright, hmu with her song

her song is my favourite

*”Egoist” ftw*

s m o o t h. yeah, this is a nice song

ikr !!

aaand more lewd dancing the world is kind to me today

they never give it up

wot's her color and animal

her color is gray, her animal is wolf and her fruit is plum

o damn

here’s their song~

this is hype af. this song is nice too but it has odd parts

i feel like the quality of their music increased with time. the first songs are also nice but you can tell these ones are better put together

well, it makes sense

it has been two years yes asdfdsdfg

o o f

here's a predebut song. the first ever with all of them, but not their debut the intro and the chorus are the best parts ngl

that's a lot of idols fam

eh, 12 isnt that rare. BRRRRRRRRRAH

where the esketit at. that was a pretty good predebut song, all things considered. they fit a bit of everything in there

yep, here’s their debut song

this one's trippy. ah, that's why it's called "hi high" they're saying hi to me, and i'm high after watching it. UOUOUOUAAAHH

I ONLY LISTEN TO MUSIC WITH MEANINGFUL LYRICS

HLBJLNKBJLNKBKLN

do you remember any of them as your favourite or did everything already vanish

i like chuu and the last one but i think the first is still my fave

oo alright, i see. any last thoughts?

well-managed for a 12 idol group, nice choreographies (& lots of lewd dancing >>), plenty of good songs, gud stuff overall, 10/10. 11/10 for the UOUOUOUOOAAAHHH

noicE

alexa here!! oof, this took so long to put together;; also if haseul sees this please marry me goddess ily

i hope you enjoy this post, even though its a little messy!! pop a little message in our ask box too, it’ll make our day~ i hope everyone has a nice day or evening!!

[victorluvsalice]

Happy Birthday, Squid!

@gaydragonwizards -- Hey, we’ve known each other for a while now, it’s about time I did one of these for you. :) And, since you’re one of the biggest fans of the Lovecraft Jazz AU, here’s a snippet from it! Specifically, the part where everybody ends up at the local hotel at the same time. We come in just as the Van Dorts and the Everglots walk in and spot each other. . .

There was about five solid seconds of stunned silence. Then, in almost perfect chorus: "What are you doing here?!"

Lady Everglot scowled, drawing herself up to her full, impressive height (made even more so by her massive tower of hair -- Victor would never understand what magic she used to keep both it and herself upright). "We asked first," she snapped, as her husband glowered at all and sundry. "And we are the highest-ranking people present."

"Well, we're here on business," Father said, tapping his cane against the floor. "Hoping to expand the cannery, don'tcha know!"

"Yes," Mother simpered, a nasty gleam in her eyes. "My brilliant businessman of a husband is looking to make us even richer." She snapped open her fan. "So what brings you to the shores of America, ladyship? Visiting one of your many estates?"

"If you do have a house over here, maybe we could use it for the wedding!" Father added brightly. "I mean, we're all here, we know it's going to happen -- what's the point in delaying?"

"We're not here because of our -- possible matrimonial situation," Lady Everglot said, her lip curling. "We've come to visit family in Innsmouth. A cousin of Finis's."

"To discuss financial matters," Lord Everglot added, glaring sharply at Father.

"Oh? Has your cousin fallen on hard times as well?" Father said innocently. "If he's in the fish business too, I'd be happy to lend a hand." He grinned. "After all, there's no denying this place could use the work! Have you seen the rest of the town? Looks about ready to fall down around our ears!"

Yes, Father, that's going to endear you to the locals, Victor thought, glancing apologetically at the innkeeper frowning at them from behind his desk. Why does he never think before he speaks? Well, at least now I have one friendly face around. He gave Victoria a little wave from behind Mother -- she returned it. I wonder if we'll be allowed to actually say more than two words to each other if Mother arranges another "date." I like her well enough already, but it would be nice to have a proper conversation without being interrupted. Particularly if we're still supposed to get married. He sighed softly. Only in Burtonsville would the arranged marriage not gone the way of the dodo. I know they can't actually force us, but -- ugh, the scandal that would result if she or I refused! The door creaked open again -- he glanced over idly. We'd end up pariahs on par with poor -- "Emily?!"

Emily Cartwell started backward, nearly stumbling right into her companion. "Victor?"

"What? Emily?" Mother turned toward the door, then gasped, snapping her fan shut dramatically. "Miss Cartwell! You're here too?"

"Ah -- yes," Emily said, glancing back at the man behind her. Victor recognized him as Sam Thatcher -- that's right, they had gone off together in the wake of the Barkis Incident. "We're -- we're on tour. What are you--"

"On tour?" Lady Everglot huffed. She exchanged a dark look with her husband. "So it's true -- you ran off with this man not even to marry him, but to make a spectacle of yourself in the theater?"

"Well, running off to marry someone didn't go so well, milady," Emily retorted, folding her arms. "And I'm not an actress -- I'm a dancer."

Lady Everglot put her nose in the air. "Yes, that makes such a difference. Young people these days, Finis. . ."

"So glad we didn't end up trying her family," Mother stage-whispered to Father behind her fan. "Girl has no sense of propriety. Do you see her dress? Her knees are just -- out there! For everyone to stare at!"

Victor winced, and saw Victoria do the same. What was with their parents and their lack of shame? "I'm glad to see you're all right, Miss Cartwell," he said, getting a smile in return. He straightened and offered a salute to her companion. "And you as well, Mr. Thatcher."

Mr. Thatcher blinked, then grinned lopsidedly. "Aw, don't bother with all that. I did my duty -- haven't put the old uniform on in ages."

"Still, we do appreciate your service," Victoria said, ignoring the frown she got from her mother for daring to speak.

"Yeah, one of our old boys back from the trenches should have a proper job," Father agreed brightly. "Are you going to be here for a while? Once I talk to the dockmen and get my latest venture open, I can get you a position easily!"

"Uh -- thanks but no thanks," Mr. Thatcher replied, holding up a hand. "Music's been in my blood -- even back in the trenches me and some friends were plannin' on starting up our own band." For a moment, his eyes grew haunted as he rubbed his leg -- then he managed to shake it off. "I'm happy with what me and Ems are doing, honest."

Father seemed rather confused by this confession. Fortunately, though, before he could open his mouth and dig himself an even deeper hole, the door creaked open again. Victor's head swiveled toward it, as did everyone else's, to see --

Two complete strangers. They stared back at the sea of faces curiously. "Hmm -- seems we're expected, Lizzie," the young lady in front said, glancing up at what could only be her sister. She looked at each of them in turn. "Are you the Innsmouth welcoming committee, then?"

"Ah -- n-no," Victor got out. Goodness, he'd never seen eyes like hers before. Such a bright, sharp green -- they seemed to reach straight into his very soul, holding him fascinated. The rest of her was pretty too -- long dark hair worn loose around her shoulders, a strong pink mouth, a slim figure clad in blue. More than that, though, was the power she seemed to radiate. One got the feeling this was not someone you wanted to upset.

"We were just sort of expecting someone else from our hometown to show up," Emily explained, shaking her head. "We're all from the same village back in England, you see, and we all arrived here in the past five minutes, it looks like."

"Ah. Well, I am from England, but I haven't the slightest where your village is. Sorry to disappoint." The woman noticed Victor staring and hit him with a frown. "Are you that shocked to see a stranger in a strange land?"

"You've got beautiful eyes."

Victor's brain only caught up with the words once they'd already left his lips. He started at his own boldness, grabbing his tie for support. "I-I mean -- I-I'm not used to -- not that you d-don't have lovely eyes too, M-Miss Everglot, or you either, Miss C-Cartwell -- just that yours, miss, are so g-green and I -- ah--" He slapped a hand over his mouth before he could further embarrass himself. "Sorry."

Mother sighed heavily, leaning on Father with a mutter of "Utterly hopeless, isn't he?" while Lady Everglot tched and murmured to her husband, "Typical of the middle class." The sister -- Lizzie -- also seemed unimpressed, glaring at him as if he'd blurted out something intensely crude. Victoria, by contrast, shook her head fondly, while Emily hid a giggle and Mr. Thatcher grinned. And the young lady -- well, said beautiful eyes widened in surprise for a moment. Then she smirked. "You must not be used to green eyes if that's how you react to them," she said. "But I suppose I should thank you for the compliment." She curtsied. "Alice Liddell, sir. You are?"

"Victor," Victor said, lowering his hand. Well, at least he hadn't made a total fool of himself. "Victor Van Dort."

"Wait -- Liddell?" Mr. Thatcher said, tipping his head to one side. "The girls from that fire? In Oxford?"

"That's the one," Lizzie replied shortly. "And given that I have it on good authority that the man who set said fire might be here in town, could you all give us leave to check in first so we can get down to the police station?"

"Oh -- yeah, go right ahead," Mr. Thatcher said, waving them onward.

"We can wait," Father agreed, stepping back.

Lord Everglot merely grunted, which the Liddell sisters took as assent. Victor watched as they approached the front desk. Oh my. . .so -- my parents, my forced fiancee, her parents, the woman at the heart of Burtonsville's greatest scandal in ages, her rescuer and one of Burtonsville's lesser-known soldiers, and the two sisters in the middle of the most shocking case of arson in all of England. One of whom now knows I think she has beautiful eyes.

This is going to be an interesting trip.