#but I reckon it turned out yummy

[alttheloco]

Fool’s Gold book cover!! :D

Read the fic by @tigers1o1 here! I very much recommend it, super good read.

[crappymixtape]

you gotta help me, baby

even though you could definitely apply for any other job at the mall or stupid family video it still wouldn’t pay as much as babysitting does, but god you’re one more spilled tray of food on the floor from quitting until your boyfriend shows up to save the day | (  2.3k, modern!day au, fluff, established relationship, steve x you, steve x reader ) REQUEST ↪ nonny, i hope your babysitting goes okay and even if it feels like it sucks i know you got this!! ♥️

Y O U G O T T A H E L P M E, B A B Y 🎶 manly man, delacey & emily weisband

You were covered in it. What it was you didn’t know, but between the spilled bottles, thrown food and horribly executed idea of finger painting you reckoned you looked a mess. You would’ve brought the kid to the park just down the street, but it was way too hot. July sun beating down and turning the slide into something that would melt off the backs of your thighs the second you touched it.

And the only thing that made this shit tolerable, the only person that kept you sane these long days, was working overtime and every time you checked your phone it stared up at you blankly.

No notifications. You’d open your messages. No little blinking dots. Nothing. Nada. Why you??

Fingers swiping across your screen you texted Robin, begging her for the fifth time to please let your boyfriend leave early, but you heard it before it happened.

A squeal of delight and then the splat of chocolate pudding all over your phone and hands and bare legs and shirt and–

“Yummy!” the little girl kicked her feet happily in her high chair as you dragged your eyes up from your lap and tried to smile. She was 2. Of course Bea was throwing pudding across the room, but you were at your wit’s end and your chest squeezed with the thought of having to clean up again.

“It’s only pudding,” you muttered under your breath, screwing your eyes shut, trying to count to ten until a knock on the door shook you from your attempt at calming down.

Were they home already? There was no way.

Getting up from the table you swiped an already messy washcloth across Bea’s face, ignoring the abysmal state that you were in, and hurried to the entryway. Pushing yourself up on tip toe you looked through the little peephole in the door and the sight of what was on the other side nearly brought tears to your eyes.

“Oh thank god,” you unlocked and yanked the door open, nearly throwing your arms around Steve’s neck, but stopped short when you remembered the pudding.

You were a sight. Cheeks dotted with red and blue and green paint, white shirt covered in chocolate and cut-off shorts splattered with…was it macaroni? Steve’s first reaction was to laugh, but the look on your face made him soften and he gave you a sympathetic smile.

“Awh, baby. That bad?” he asked, hands reaching out to tug your hips into him by your pockets despite the mess all over you and you melted into his chest. Your mmhm was muffled by the soft fabric of his shirt and he tsked gently. Poor you. Glancing over your shoulder he saw Bea in her highchair, still kicking her feet happily and giving a little squeal at the sight of him.

“Stee!” she shrieked and Steve laughed.

“Hi, Bea,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead and walked you slowly backwards into the house to keep the heat out. “Are you havin’ fun today?” he asked and she giggled.

“Yummy,” she said and put a chocolatey hand to her mouth then stuck it back out to him, offering to share.

“Oh! Wow, that does look good,” pulling his hands from your pockets he tucked away the hair that had fallen into your face. “Why don’t you go take a minute, babe. I got this,” he said softly, pressing another kiss to your cheek before stepping around you to take the washcloth off the table. “Bea, I gotta say, this looks like the best pudding ever made,” he tutted a bit as he wiped more chocolate from her cheeks, her nose, her chubby little hands and suddenly everything felt so much easier.

“Yes, yes!” she squealed and he laughed.

Steve turned to tidy up your chair, muscles in his arm pulling and flexing as he moved, and your cheeks warmed at the sight of him. Hair a bit messy from the open windows on his car, skin golden and warm like it held all of summer under it and dotted with new freckles from sitting out by the pool yesterday.

You could watch him all day, but you needed a second for yourself more and so you hurried down the hallway to the bathroom.

Of course you were good with kids, why else would you have taken the job? But some days were harder than others. Some days the screaming was endless and nothing you did could make the tears stop.

Teething, skipped naps, overtired and hungry or wanting mama and it made you feel like maybe you weren’t good at it. Maybe you should work at the mall. Maybe your dream of kids of your own was too much, maybe you wouldn't be a good mom, but then Steve would show up.

Your second wind. Your cheerleader.

Your lifesaver.

He’d tell you it was okay, everyone gets frustrated. Everyone has a breaking point. Just take a minute for yourself. Take a break from the crying. I got this. I can handle it and when you come back you’ll feel so much better, baby.

I love you, baby.

You’d wiped the paint from your cheeks, cleaned the chocolate from your legs and hands, took a few deep breaths and resigned yourself to the fact that your shirt and shorts were brown and orange now and that was that.

Splashed cold water on your face and redid your ponytail and when you looked back in the mirror you were surprised at how refreshed you looked. You weren’t back to 100%, but it was much better than before and when you opened the bathroom door you could hear Steve talking to Bea.

“So it’s a show about a dog family, huh?”

“Yes! Booey and Bingo! And mum and dad!”

You quietly walked down the hallway and leaned against the opening into the kitchen, watching for a just a minute as Steve sat at the table. Elbow leaning on Bea’s highchair tray and free hand feeding her pudding neatly from a spoon.

“And what’s dad say?”

“Cheeky kids!”

“Cheeky kids, huh?” Steve laughed, “Sounds very British. You’ve got sophisticated tastes, my friend.”

A smile tugged up at the corners of your lips as your chest squeezed again, but this time with something different. Not anxiety or stress or worry, but affection. Care. Love. God you loved this boy. So damn much and when he turned to look over his shoulder at you, you bit your lips between your teeth. Caught, but he didn’t care. He gave you smile, a little smug and a lot fond, and then turned back to Bea.

“Think it’s gonna be time for a nap soon, Bea,” he said, tone firm, but caring and the little girl scrunched her nose up. “I know, seems boring but–” he stood and took her bib off before lifting her gently from her highchair, “–I bet you’ll get to read a book first, hm? That sounds nice.”

“Yeah, we could read Owl Babies, Bea,” you chimed in, finally coming out from your hiding spot and the toddler’s eyes lit up at the sight of you.

“Yes! Yes! Blankie? And snuggles,” she said, squirming in Steve’s hold and making grabby hands at you. He chuckled and passed her off, brushing his thumb soft across your cheek, eyes only for you. Warm amber, burnt caramel, flecks of green and gold and you mouthed a thank you.

“Night, Bea. See you when you wake up,” he said, messing her hair a little as she let loose a big yawn.

“Nigh-nigh, Stee,” her little voice was sleepy now and when you turned to go up the stairs he mouthed an I love you, smile lopsided and just a little smug. Anticipating his favorite time of day. Bea’s nap and getting you all to himself on the couch for a couple of hours and he could hardly wait to get his hands on you, chocolate shorts and all.

crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist

[themuse-if]

Maxine Matthews

The Best Friend!

Maybe my favorite....I know I shouldn't pick favorites but I LOVE her!

Maxine Matthews | 18 yrs old | she/her:

Max is not just a friend; she's your lifelong partner in crime. Destiny brought you together through your parents' friendship, and luckily, you hit it off. Those shared family functions turned out to be a blast, thanks to your genuine connection. Over the years, you and Max have cultivated some cherished traditions, from Friday movie nights with pizza and Ben & Jerry's to midweek gossip... uh, study sessions at the beloved Smelly Cat Cafe.

Max is the hilarious commentator of your shared entertainment world. It's no surprise that her decision to major in dramatic writing aligns perfectly with her witty and insightful commentary on every show and movie you watch together. Some outsiders might raise eyebrows at how close you two are, questioning the nature of your friendship. Yet, you both know that your bond is unbreakable, built on genuine love and mutual understanding.

Named after Maxine Shaw from "Living Single," Max inherits not just the name but also the strong-willed and slightly stubborn spirit of her namesake. Especially when it comes to her opinions on film and TV, Max is unwavering. Her passion for storytelling and her knack for holding firm to her beliefs make her a force to be reckoned with, adding a layer of vibrant personality to your shared adventures.

Navigating university life with your best friend by your side is a dream come true, and you wouldn't want it any other way. After all, who better to share the highs, lows, and laughter of this new chapter than Max?

Scroll all the way down for a Q&A with Max!

Top row left to right: Everyday, formal, activewear, sleepwear

Bottom row left to right: Party, swimwear, hot weather, cold weather

Maxine Q&A

Q: What’s your sign?

A: I'm an Aeries.

Q: How tall are you?

A: I’m 5'5.

Q: Name your top 5 artists your listening to?

A: My top 5 favorite artists include Erykah Badu, yeule, Sunset Rollercoaster, Men I trust, and Puma Blu. At least for right now.

Q: What’s your favorite food?

A: Nothing beats a classic plate of spicy, creamy Cajun chicken pasta. It has to be my mom's recipe or else it just doesn't hit the same.

Q: What’s your ideal date?

A: We would go see whatever movie Rooftop Cinema Club was playing, I just thinks its so fun to go see a movie in a different setting. After the movie we could go out for dinner, anything as fine as long as the menu looks yummy. And then we could top the night off with dessert in a cozy café.

[kellysbookblog]

Title: DAMAGE

Series: O'Sullivan Brothers Book 5

Author: Rie Warren

Genre: Dark Irish Mafia Romance

Release Date: January 15, 2024

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/202129807-damage

Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/books/damage-dark-irish-mafia-romance-o-sullivan-brothers-book-5-by-rie-warren

My Amazon Review: Amazing' (amazon.com)

My GR Review: https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/6084346398?book_show_action=false

Blurb:

The beautiful brutal saga that began with the Krasnov bratva series and continued with the Irish O’Sullivan mafia—a syndicate clash that created a sinfully sexy alliance—comes to a dirty, hot, dangerous end here.

Low blows. Hot sparks. She thinks he’s nothing but an alpha A-hole. He’s beyond sick of dealing with all her bitchy snark. One violent night of reckoning is all it takes for them to ricochet together instead of rip each other to pieces.

DAMAGE

I exist in the shadows so no one will ever really see me. Less chance of feeling, being, belonging. Because I never will.

Then she turned up. She sees me, she sees right through me. Tugs my festering rage right to the surface and makes my black heart bleed. Now there’s no escape from the hate at all, not when I’m forced to be her friggin’ babysitting bodyguard on the daily.

DERRY

I exist in a half-life because my body isn’t fully mine. I’m the paralyzed one. The cripple. I let in small bursts of sunshine just to get through the day, and no one knows my true dark pain.

Then I met him. And he stares straight through me. My very worst impulses come out to play because he taps right into the weakness at my core. I can’t even run from him, I can’t even run at all.

One apocalyptic blizzard during one terrifying night shakes us up with startling gunfire and . . . stolen kisses. We can’t keep hiding our shame, guilt, blame, desire. But none of that really matters when the O’Sullivan mafia staggers from a blow so unexpected, everyone will stumble from the force of it.

The past is only the past until it’s not.

Buy Links: Kindle Unlimited

Universal: https://mybook.to/DAMAGE

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CNB72PH9

Amazon CA: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B0CNB72PH9

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0CNB72PH9

Amazon AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B0CNB72PH9

In The Series:

Lucky

Kelly

Dex

Bronson

→ https://mybook.to/OSullivanBrothers

Excerpt:

When Damage began to prowl closer, I quickly got my chair going in reverse. I took it self-defense lessons were done and he had something way more sexual in mind.

I didn’t get far before he stopped me only to yank me straight up into his arms.

“Put me down! You can’t just manhandle me like that!”

“I fucking can to.” He paid me no never mind, wrapping my legs around his lean hips and quickly striding through to the bedroom in the back.

He tossed me onto the mattress, and I bounced once.

I went to smack him just because, except he caught my wrist in a hard grasp, his grin absolutely sinful. “’Cause I think you like me being rough around the edges. And I get off on it too.”

“I still hate you,” I hissed as he backed off.

He stood at the foot of the bed and simply whipped his tank top up and off.

And, look, it wasn’t my fault I was completely dazed by his diabolical smirk and that muscular sweat-slick torso and the abs-for-days and a rapidly growing erection filling the front of his stupid gray sweats.

“Yeah. But I’m still hot, right?” He actually winked at me!

“You’re obnoxious, is what you are. And arrogant, apparently.” With him stalking around the bed—closer, closer—no one could blame me for the breathy quality of my voice.

No one.

Wasting no time tugging my exercise top up over my breasts before flinging it across the room, he came down on top of me.

The heat between our two bodies fired electrical impulses, but I halfheartedly tried to fend him off, beating at his shoulders and turning my face back and forth.

Chuckling, Damage braced up on one arm, his eyes crinkly and yummy. “What are you doin’?”

“I’m gross! I’m stinky and—”

He planted his face right in my cleavage, the beard rasping. “No. You’re not. You’re fuckin’ sexy.”

I gasped, arching, tingles racing outward from his warm lips caressing between my tits, his large hands cupping both mounds. “Oh my god. Are you just gonna motorboat me right here?”

Glancing up at me with his tongue stud clacking—god—he said slyly, “Maybe.”

My breath all but evaporated as Damage cruised back up, my full breasts and flushed nipples crushed by his unyielding chest. He dipped his head to deliver a smoldering, slow, intoxicating kiss.

One after another, changing the angle of his head, making hungry noises in the back of his throat, pierced tongue exploring and spreading ecstasy all through my body.

My pussy got wet so fast, oh-so greedily pressed up against the thick underbelly of his cock.

These kisses, after we’d made it a point to deny ourselves for days, made me weak. Had me whimpering.

I wanted to fight against it. Him. He’d just shown me how to defend myself. I couldn’t.

I grabbed onto those great big shoulders and held on, pushed up for more.

When he broke away to nuzzle my neck, I arched it for him.

“This is so wrong,” I whispered hoarsely.

“Feels exactly right.”

His words were murmured hotly against my skin where he licked and sucked my flesh.

So quickly, pressure and pleasure built inside me like a ticking timebomb.

I grasped him to me, sliding my hands over sleek skin and flexing muscles up into his hair as moans escaped without my permission.

“Can’t believe how much I want you.” He ran the tongue stud all under my chin from one side to the other, and I couldn’t believe my fucking chin was an erogenous zone.

But alarm bells started ringing.

“Damage wait,” I gasped out.

“What?” he mumbled at my ear as he snicked the soft lobe, destroying tiny bits of my brain function.

Then he slathered a hot sloppy scalding trail to my breast just before engulfing a taut nipple in his sexy wet mouth.

Oh my god.

Abort abort!

“Damage! I’m a virgin!”

His head snapped up, gorgeous irises dark and luminous, and braced himself on his fists. “What?”

More quietly—my cheeks on fire—I said, “I’ve never had sex before.”

All at once, the sexy intensity of his expression cleared, and that bastard started grinning at me!

“Why are you grinning, you asshole! It’s mortifying!”

Author Bio:

Badass, sassafras Rie Warren is an OG Amazon All Star author of Bad Boy books and MC romance. She delivers five star sex, suspense, and the best banter around. Her stories are one hundred percent original, do not contain fluffy plots or virgin brides, and wring every last emotion from readers to leave them with a satisfied smile. Rie’s tough alpha males are never brought to heel, but are instead healed by the feisty femme fatale of their perfect match.

She grew up in Maine, went to college in Iowa (Iowa, what?), lived in Scotland, and married in Englishman. In true roundabout fashion, they came back to the States, settled in South Carolina’s lowcountry, putting down southern roots and pursuing their arty endeavors. Tale spinner and character diviner, Rie is a lover of sleep, wine, and rude memes often involving either Disney characters or Winnie the Pooh. She is raising two teen daughters along with an entire brain full of unruly characters.

Rough-talking alpha men? Rie has that on tap.

Stubborn sassy heroines? You bet.

Smoldering sex scenes that’ll set your Kindle on fire? Check, check, check.

Keep a fan handy, you’ll need it.

Follow the signup link below to her romance newsletter for sneak peeks, new releases, first looks, and her quirky sense of humor.

And, as always, happy sexy reading to you!

Author Social Media Links:

Newsletter: https://www.subscribepage.com/riewarrenromance

Website: https://www.riewarren.com

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Rie-Warren/e/B00BI1IM46

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/Rie_Warren

Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/RieWarrenRomance

Twitter: https://twitter.com/RieWrites

Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/riewarrenwrites

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/riewarrenwrites/

[corruptedcaps]

Masking Emotions

“Hey, look at this mask I found. Isn’t it cool! Well I think it’s beautiful, I can't believe I found it at a thrift store for only five dollars. I'm planning on wearing it to the Christmas costume party next week. I might paint it. What do you think? Do you think it'll be a hit? My costume? I don’t know yet actually. Here let me out this on and maybe it’ll spark some ideas."

“Oh my god, I don’t know how it’s possible but the mask has changed my entire body! Look at my lovely tanned skin, my blonde thick hair and my big round boobs. Isn’t this incredible? I feel so sexy! I can't believe how much it changed my appearance. I feel like a totally different person. It's amazing. I can't wait to show it off at the Christmas party next week. I just know I’m going to be a hit."

“I know I should be saving the mask for the party next week but it just feels so yummy to wear it. I was invited on three dates already! Of course I turned them all done, they were all penniless nobodies. I’m waiting for Callum. We’ve been in university for nearly four years and he’s never even said hi before but that was before the mask. Yeah he’s with our bully Bianca but I’m just looking for him to notice me, that’s all. I’m not some man stealing bitch. Now get out of here, I think I see him coming.”

“What do you think of this for my costume? Yeah it’s a slutty Mrs. Claus costume but so what? If I have the body now why not flaunt it? Oh Callum is going as Santa? Huh isn’t that a coincidence? Regardless, look how hawt I look! What do you mean it’s not really me? Well maybe I’m better this way. I definitely feel better. Don’t be jealous, it’s not a good look on you. Neither is whatever you’re wearing.”

“Look at these flowers Callum got me, isn’t he the sweetest. Callum broke up with Bianca so he was fair game. So what if I fucked him before he did to sweeten the deal, all that matters is he’s all mine now. Oh not this again. This is who I am now. I’m the kind of girl Callum likes. Hot, mean and bitchy. I like who I am now. No strike that, I LOVE who I am now. The old me was such a pushover loser but now I’m a force to be reckoned with. Even Bianca had realized that and maybe you should too!”

“You little bitch! You were trying to trick me into taking off the mask weren’t you? Haha god that’s pathetic! Hate to let you down but I’ve bonded permanently with the mask. It made me into the hottest, meanest slut on campus, how could I resist? Lucky for you there is still a part of my loser self in here that doesn’t want to hurt you so get out of my sight, I don’t ever want to see your ugly face again.”

“Get the hell off me loser, what were you even trying to do? Ugh what are you blabbering about? Only the best friend can destroy the mask? What mask? What friendship? You really have lost it. Even if I entertained whatever nonsense you were spouting, you really think you are my best friend? I don’t even know you. Bianca is my bitchy BFF and always has been, she would do anything for me. Watch I’ll prove it. Bianca be a babe and chuck this stalker out of my party and be as rough as you feel like being.”

[soupandsimple]

This is definitely Sirius and you with your 3 boys 🙃

* rowdy vacation moment with Sirius and your three boys

………..

Sirius has always taken you on extravagant vacations- all the way back to when you started dating to NOW with three boys!

To anyone else, this was a bad idea. Luxurious vacations should be romantic getaways for spouses, but you and Sirius didn’t see it that way (this is not to say you and Sirius never had private vacations with each other…because you did). But traveling without the boys just seemed pointless; in both your eyes, (especially Sirius’s) your kids deserved to see the world too.

The slopes was the location of this current vacation and after a day out on the beautiful mountains, some yummy dinner at a nearby restaurant and nice warm showers, you and your little family decided to just hang out a bit in the cozy living room of the rental before bed.

With it only being the second day here, your boys were still overly excited at the change of scenery-both outdoors and inside the house and boy did it show.

“Mama! Watch this!” your youngest says as he jumps from the heavy set coffee table to the big fluffed up white couch.

Your middle son lets out a wail and whines “I was going to show them that!” then runs over between your sitting legs and hides his face in your stomach, crying with anger.

Completely ignoring his younger brothers, your oldest hops on the table like nothing, growls like the hulk and shows off his strength with a wrestler pose. He then quickly turns to his little brother who had gotten back on the table, grabs him by the underarms and flings him to the couch on his own.

This scene is surely a nightmare to anyone who doesn’t have growing boys, but to you and your husband it’s nothing short of normal.

“Cheers love,” a shirtless Sirius, who is sitting next to you says calmly as he moves his wine glass towards you.

You continue to rub your middle sons back to soothe him, but smile and raise your own wine glass to clink it against his. “Cheers” you say happily.

Sirius smirks and takes a sip, as do you. Carefully setting his glass down on the side table, he then scooches closer to you and eagerly whispers, “I’d love to stay here and cuddle with you but I gotta roughhouse with these boys of ours- y’know tire them out for later.”

You hum in acceptance (knowing exactly what he was implying by for later).

So he gets up, but not without planting a kiss to the side of your head first, and then at normal volume says, “And I reckon it won’t take long. They did quite the skiing today.”

“That they did” you say proudly, thinking back at all of the fun/skills they had learned today as you take another sip of wine from your glass.

“C’mon son, you and me against your brothers” he then orders, pulling off the whiny boy from your lap with a wink to you.

Your son knuckles at his tear stained eyes and grins joyously at his dad’s suggestion.

So sure, Sirius and your vacations looked a lot different now with your three boys but neither of you would change it for the world. <3

[tobesolonely]

kindergarten teachers

summary: teacher!harry and coworker y/n have a hard time coming to terms with their feelings for each other

a/n: ahhh she’s finally done! i’ve been working on this fic for sooo long and i hope u all like it! big thanks to @queencharry​ for helping me when i got stuck and beta reading, and @behindthatbabyface​ for beta reading as well and giving me feedback!! i appreciate u both <3 enjoy ~11.3k words of some mutual pining and teacher!h interacting with lil kindergarteners 🥺also i am sorry if theres any major grammar mistakes (as always) or crazy typos, i always miss some things when i go back and proofread that im sure i’ll catch later! thank u

warnings: smut, mentions of alcohol 

talk to me about harry and y/n! let me know your thoughts!!

my ko-fi! thank you :)

From the time you were very young, you knew you wanted to be a teacher. One of your earliest childhood memories was going to school dressed up as one for career day. Your usually untamed hair was pulled back into a sleek bun (courtesy of your mother), and you donned a funky baby-pink sweater. For bottoms, you wore the closest thing to a pencil skirt you had in your five-year-old wardrobe. When you look back on the photographs your mother took of you that day, you did not resemble a teacher in any way. You were sure if you had not done your Career Day presentation in front of the whole class, no one would have even known who you were dressed up as.

Once you moved onto college and declared Education as a major, that was when people really started to let you hear their opinions on the career path you wanted to pursue. It seemed like whenever you went home for a holiday, relatives were always in your ear saying, “You know teachers don’t make a lot of money, right? Have you ever considered something in the sciences?”. You always responded, “I know, but what would the world do without teachers?”.

Eventually, you finished your undergraduate career, successfully completed student teaching with the highest praise from your superiors and colleagues, obtained your teaching credentials, and even went back to school to get your Master’s degree. So, it was much to everyone’s surprise when you settled on being a Kindergarten teacher. People assumed that because you completed so much schooling, you wanted to be a university professor. However, the thought never even crossed your mind. You always thought Kindergarten teachers were the most impressionable people out there and knew you wanted to be one.

To you, there was no greater responsibility than that of a Kindergarten teacher. It was your responsibility to teach your students reading, writing, art, and music at the most basic level. You showed them how to play with others, how to be kind, and give them the tools necessary to succeed once they leave your classroom. You were the first teacher your students ever had, so you needed to make them fall in love with school instead of hate it, considering they’d have to stick to it until they were at least eighteen. 

You’ve been a credentialed Kindergarten teacher for the last three years, and you’ve loved every moment of it. You were one of the younger teachers at school, but you never felt left out. Your colleagues were amazing people who often shared tips and tricks they wish they knew when they first started teaching.

Now, you were groggily unlocking the door to your classroom, feeling those first-day-of-school jitters you always felt. You knew kindergarteners weren’t there to harshly critique you. Still, you wanted them to go home and tell their parents about how excited they were to have you as a teacher, not run home in tears. That never happened, of course, but you didn’t want to take any chances. You drop your keys and mutter a quiet, “Shit!” setting your travel mug filled with coffee on the ground and readjust the box of donuts you had for your kids on your hip. As you reach for your keys, you hear a deep voice ask if you need help. You quickly turn around, eyes wide from being startled.

“Oh! You scared me,” you place your free hand over your chest. “But yeah, actually, that’d be great. I’m struggling to get my door open.” The man nods, his own keys he wore around his neck jangling as he retrieves first your keys, then your coffee mug.

“I’m Harry– Mr. Styles, if you want,” he holds your keys out for you to take, your coffee mug still in his large hands. “Uh, I’m the new Kindergarten teacher.” You give him a confused look and trade the box of donuts in your arms for your keys, opening the door. “The last one, Mrs. Brown, I think it was, I guess she decided a few weeks back that she wanted to retire.” You get your door open and walk inside your classroom, turning on the lights. It was a little stuffy, considering you hadn’t been there to open any windows in about a month.

“Oh, that’s right! Welcome,” you give him a warm smile. “I’m Y/N– Miss Y/L/N if you want.” A slight blush appears on his cheeks. “We’re gonna be working together then, it seems. Don’t get me wrong, I loved Mrs. Brown, but it’ll be nice to collaborate with someone closer to my age, you know?” Harry nods, and you realize he still had your coffee mug and box of donuts in his hands. “You can just set that on my desk, thanks for helping out. Would you like a donut?”

“Um, I- it’s okay,” he stammers, setting the items down. “Sorry, it’s just that I’ll probably crash if I have a donut first thing in the mornin’.” You smile at him and move to open all your windows and the back door, wanting the stuffy classroom to air out a bit before the children got here. 

“I totally get that,” you giggle, walking back over to your desk. “Are you excited about the first day? I always get a little nervous. I also talk a lot when I’m nervous, I’m sure you caught onto that.” 

For the first time that morning, Harry laughs. “Yeah, I’m nervous, too. ’ve never taught in the States before, so this is a bit new to me.” He’s playing with the keys hanging from his lanyard. 

“I noticed you had an accent, but I didn’t know if it was weird to ask about it. What brings you to California?” You open the box of donuts and take one out, wanting to eat it before it gets cold, and the glaze hardens.

“Uh, I went to University here, but when I graduated, I decided to go back home and teach for a couple of years. I really missed being here though and wanted to come back, so I got my credentials, and uh, here I am,” he tells you with a grin, and you notice he has deep dimples. 

“Well, we’re glad you’re here,” you tell him earnestly. “The kids are just gonna love your accent, too!” you joke and Harry laughs for the second time that day. 

“If all else fails, ’m hopin’ to charm everyone over with my accent,” he stares at you for a moment before speaking again. “Well, I better finish getting situated. It’s fifteen til, and I reckon the children will be arriving soon, yeah?” He asks. You nod. 

“Best to be waiting at parent drop-off too, there are always a few parents that are just as nervous as their babies, if not more, and could use a quick pep talk.”

“Thanks for lettin’ me know. I was thinking about standing out there anyway, just to make a good first impression.” You take another bite of your donut, giving him a thumbs up. 

“You’ve got this, Harry. I know you’re not completely clueless since you’ve taught before, but I know the first day can be a little intimidating. You know where I am if you need anything.” He gives you a grateful smile, quietly thanking you before turning to walk out the door. You’re left thinking about your new coworker, only being pulled from your thoughts of him when the first bell rings.

“Good morning everyone, my name is Miss Y/L/N. Are you all excited to get this school year started?” A chorus of high-pitched yeses fills the room, and you smile warmly at your class. “I’m so excited that you’re all here! I have a little surprise for each of you!” You grab the box of donuts and walk back to the rug in the center of the room that the children usually sat on for storytime. Little gasps fill your ears, and they all say, “Donuts!” and “Yummy!”. You smile at the kids again, already feeling overwhelmed with how adorable they were. 

“We all get a donut?” one little girl asks, her eyes wide. You nod at her.

“Of course! Everyone will get a donut, sweetie.” You move to get the plastic food gloves you kept so you can safely hand out a donut to everyone. “Okay guys, I’m going to pass a stack of napkins around the room. Take one and pass the stack to the person sitting next to you. Does that make sense?” All the students nod their heads in confirmation, so you grab a stack and hand them to the child sitting closest to you. “Once the last person has their napkin, let me know, and then it’ll be donut time!” You say this over-enthusiastically, and the children squirm in their seats in excitement.

As you go around handing out donuts to each of your students, you learn their names and ask them to tell you one fun fact about them. Most children say things like, “I have a brother/sister!” or “I can run really fast!”, and you find it absolutely adorable. One thing you loved the most about teaching five-year-olds was their ability to think everything was cool. It was comforting to know that no matter what you did, they’d find you cool, and your first-day jitters quickly dissipated. As the children eat their donuts, you read them a story, putting on different voices for all the various characters. You show them how to raise their hand when they have something they’d like to share and remind them to use their “listening ears” when you or one of their classmates are speaking.

When it’s time for recess, you show them how to line up quietly at the door, and assign a line leader and a hall monitor. You remind the children that they will all get a turn at these tasks eventually because it’ll switch every week, and not to worry. As you’re walking down the hall backward (one of your teachers walks that you’d finally perfected), you hear Harry’s voice.

“Okay Room Ten, we’re gonna go out to the playground now, where you all will get to play every recess and lunch. That sounds like fun, doesn’t it?” He asks them, and you hear little voices chattering out to him in excitement. You can’t help but peek into his classroom as you walked by, as his door was open. He didn’t see you because he was busy organizing his class into a straight line, so you keep going. Your class, who, much to your surprise, was walking very quietly, got loud once they saw the Kindergarten play area had a slide and monkey bars.

“We get to play on this?” one of your students, Destiny, questions. 

“Yup! This is a pretty cool play area, isn’t it?” They nod and stare at you, waiting for direction. “Oh, you can all go play and run around, get some of that energy out. When the bell rings, though, I want you to listen to the yard teachers because they’re gonna help get you all lined back up so we can go back inside. Deal?” The children give you nods and thumbs up, and you grin at them, telling them to have fun and be nice to one another. As you’re turning to go to the teacher’s lounge to refill your mug of coffee, you see Harry walking down the hallway with his class, and decide to wait for him. He gives his class the same spiel you gave yours and tells them to “Treat each other with kindness” before noticing you waiting for him.

“Hey,” he gives you a grin, looking far more relaxed than he did when you saw him earlier that morning. “How’s it going so far?”

“It’s great,” you reply, leading him in the direction of the teacher’s lounge. “They’re all adorable.”

“Yeah, don’t know what I was so nervous fo’. They’re great. Also, you’re right,” Harry has an amused look on his face. “The first thirty minutes of ’em bein’ there was just them askin’ me to say things because they think I sound funny.” 

“I told you!” you exclaim, laughing at him. “A British accent is definitely not something we hear every day, not here at least.”

“I figured,” he replies, and silence falls between you. “Where are we going, by the way?”

You stop in front of a blue door and sift through the keys on your lanyard, finally finding the one you were looking for. “Teacher’s lounge. Have you had the chance to check it out yet?” He shakes his head, and you pull open the door after having unlocked it. “After you.” He shakes his head and steps back, signaling you go ahead of him. You quirk an eyebrow at him, and he gives you a defensive look.

“What? ‘M a gentleman. Ladies first,” he insists, holding the door open. You walk inside the room, trying to refrain from rolling your eyes. There aren’t many teachers in the lounge. You figure they all must be in their classrooms, trying to do some last-minute organization and lesson planning amidst the first day of school chaos. However, a few colleagues that you’re rather fond of are in the room, so you take it upon yourself to introduce them to Harry.

“Hello everyone, I hope you’re all having a relaxing morning!” They chuckle lightly at your sarcasm. “I’d like you all to meet Mr. Harry Styles. He’s the new Kindergarten teacher that took Mrs. Brown’s place.” A look of realization washes over all three teachers’ faces, and they warmly greet him. Harry goes around, shaking each of their hands, voice dripping with charm.

“Lovely to meet you all. Looking forward to collaborating,” he tells them quietly. They begin engaging in polite conversation, so you leave Harry’s side, walking over to the coffee station to get what you came for before recess was over. He joins you shortly after, grabbing a disposable cup. “They were a nice bunch.” He mutters, pouring the steaming coffee into his cup. You hum in agreement.

“Everyone here is nice. The lounge is usually much more crowded than this. Everyone else must be in their rooms,” you flick your wrist up to check the time. “We got some time to sit down and breathe for a bit if you’d like? Unless you wanted to get back to your room.”

“‘M in no rush, trust me,” he tells you, flashing you a small smile. “Let’s take a seat.” Harry walks over to an unoccupied couch and sits down slowly, taking care not to spill his coffee. 

“You didn’t want a lid?” you question when you see him struggling. He shrugs.

“Not necessary. Jus’ some extra plastic,” you hum and look down at your lap. You were quickly learning that Harry was not a big talker, and he liked to get his point across in as few words as possible. Him being a Kindergarten teacher contradicted heavily with his rather bashful demeanor, but that just made him all the more endearing to you.

“Do you live nearby, or is your commute long?” you ask him after a few moments of silence. As soon as you ask the question, you internally cringe, feeling like it was too invasive. If Harry thought the question was weird, he doesn’t show it.

“I live in town. I actually walked here today, believe it or not,” he tells you with a chuckle. “Was such a beautiful morning that I figured I should.” Every time you think Harry can’t possibly get any more captivating, he does, and you find yourself biting back a smile.

“How long is your walk?” You cross your legs and then uncross them, a nervous habit that you had. Harry takes a sip of coffee, mulling your question over.

“I’d say it took me about twenty minutes. I was walkin’ at a pretty leisurely pace, though,” Harry shrugs. “How about you? Do you live nearby?”

“I also live in town, but I’m way too lazy to walk, so props to you,” you smile. “The best thing about living around here is seeing your kids out in public. It’s the cutest thing.” Harry smiles, not saying anything else. A silence falls over the two of you again but instead of feeling the need to fill it, you just sit beside him, drinking your coffee. Your mind wanders off to what you were going to do for the rest of the school day, if you had enough groceries in your apartment for dinner or if you should go grocery shopping after work, and if you remembered to pay your bills on time. The bell rings to signify the end of recess, and you jump slightly.

“Ready to go back?” Harry asks, standing up and walking back over to the coffee station. “Think’m gonna get a bit more.” You go to stand by the door, waiting for him to pour another cup of coffee. He quickly rejoins you, and the coffee sloshes a bit, some getting on his hand, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “Hope those lil’ buggers got some of their energy out.”

“Right! Mine was even more hyper than they probably would’ve been ’cause I gave them those donuts this morning,” you laugh. “So, for my sake, I hope so too.” When you and Harry arrive back at the Kindergarten play area, your classes are already lined up quietly awaiting instruction, thanks to the yard teachers. You and Harry both thank them and move to stand in front of your kids. 

“Miss Y/L/N,” one of your children calls out from the back of the line. “Can we get more donuts when we go back inside?” You see Harry smile out of the corner of your eye as he’s giving instruction to his class.

“There are no more donuts, you guys ate them all! I have something even cooler than donuts planned for us, though, okay? Now, remember what I told you all about walking quietly, right? Mr. Line Leader, how does your line look? Do you think we’re all set to go back inside?” The child you appointed line leader turns around to look at everyone, occasionally shushing some people. After a few moments, he turns back to you, giving you a thumbs up. 

Harry moves to stand beside you, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “Wanna eat lunch together and do some planning? I feel like it would be a good idea for us to be teachin’ the same things, more or less.” Your body feels warm all over, and you just look at him and nod, not trusting yourself to speak. Harry smiles and places a hand on your shoulder. At a normal volume, he says, “See you then, Miss Y/L/N.” 

Upon entering Harry’s room, you’re immediately met with the scent of vanilla and the loud hum of the air conditioning. It was bright, adorably decorated, and surprisingly decluttered. It was the polar opposite of your room, and you found it very welcoming and comforting. “Nice set-up you’ve got going on in here,” you tell him. He jumps in his seat at his desk, not having heard you come in.

“Fucks sake,” he mumbles, face going red. “You scared me. Thanks, though. My sister helped me decorate, I don’t really have an eye for this type of stuff.” He rubs the back of his neck, sheepishly. 

“Well, if you ever need any help decorating for back to school and your sister isn’t around, I’d be more than happy to help.” Harry smiles and suddenly gets up from his chair, offering it to you.

“Please, take my seat. I’ll just sit in one of the kids’ chairs,” he rolls it towards you, and you shake your head, about to object, but he interrupts you. “It’s okay, Y/N. Their chairs aren’t that bad.” You take the seat Harry was just in, mumbling a quiet thank you. He hums and pulls a tiny chair up beside you, legs scraping loudly across the floor. When he sits down in it, you can’t but burst out laughing.

“Harry, that chair is so tiny! Are you sure you don’t want me to sit there instead? You look so uncomfortable,” you tell him in between laughs. “This is your classroom, after all, I’m just a guest.” Harry shakes his head, cheeks flushed.

“It’s okay, Y/N, really. ‘M perfectly comfortable in this lil’ miniature chair,” he looks at the lunch bag you sat on his desk. “What’s for lunch?” You reach for your sack and unzip it, pulling out a pre-packaged salad from Trader Joe’s.

“I’m very lazy when it comes to packing my lunches,” you admit sheepishly, pulling out a fork. “How about you? Did you eat already?”

“Oh yeah, I had a green smoothie. Not a big lunch guy,” he replies calmly. “Wanna get started with planning? I think we only have about thirty minutes left.” He looks down at his watch to confirm the time. Harry opens his planner, and you see pages filled with his neat, blocky scrawl. He jumps right into talking about the ideas he had in mind, excitement filling his voice that you haven’t yet heard. 

The passion and enthusiasm he has for teaching are evident through the way he tells you about the activities he has planned, new materials and teaching methods he wants to try implementing, and things he’s tried before that didn’t work out the way he wanted them to. He asks you for your advice and listens intently when you speak, jotting down notes.

You find yourself having to mentally remind yourself not to stare at him. He was a handsome man– there was no denying that. He had curly brown hair, soft and wild-looking, the most beautiful green eyes you’d ever seen, and arms covered in tattoos. You also noticed he had the tiniest cross on his left hand. You wanted to ask him about it, but you figured that was a conversation for another time. 

“Y/N? Did you hear what I just said,” Harry asks, giving you a concerned look. “Are you alright? I think you just zoned out for a couple minutes or somethin’.” You nod quickly, feeling your palms growing sweaty.

“Oh yeah, sorry, I was just thinking about something I have to do later. What did you just say?” You play off how you were just wholly drooling over your new coworker, feeling scrutinized under his piercing gaze.

“Jus’ got an email from the principal. Said we have a faculty meetin’ after school at three. Wanna go together?” He asks. You know Harry’s asking you to accompany him primarily because you’re the only person he really knows so far. However, it still makes you feel warm and special. “He said we’re gonna go over some planning for the Fall Festival. What’s that?”

“Oh, it’s just the back-to-school festival. It’s adorable,” you explain. “It’s like a mini carnival that we have right here on the playground. Every year they have teachers host booths. It’s a great way to get to meet your kids’ parents and bond with the other faculty.” Harry nods, standing up from the tiny chair right as the bell signifying the end of lunch rings.

“That sounds lovely,” he chirps, smiling down at you. “We’re gonna have the best booth out of everyone Y/N, trust me.” He jokes, the corner of his eyes crinkling. This was the most Harry had talked since you met him that morning and you were enjoying witnessing him open up to you more and more with each conversation shared.

“It is,” you stand up as well, gathering your trash and empty lunch pail. “Thanks for having me, Harry. Next time we can meet in my room. I wouldn’t mind making this a daily thing.” As soon as the words came out of your mouth, you physically wince, figuring Harry had to think you were obsessed with him at this point. He looks down, the corners of his mouth upturned when he makes eye contact with you again.

“I’d like that, Y/N. I’ll actually start bringin’ a proper lunch, so you’re not the only one eating,” you smile. “I’ll meet you in your room after school?” You nod in confirmation, walking out the door in front of him. 

“See ya later.”

“Did everyone have a good day today?” You ask your class, walking backward to the dismissal gate. You’re met with a chorus of cheerful sounding ‘yeses,’ and you place your hand over your heart in a dramatic fashion. “That makes me so happy, everyone! You’re all incredible little people, and I think we’re gonna have a fantastic year. What do you guys think?” The children chatter excitedly, glad to have made it through their first day of school and see their parents on the other side of the gate eagerly awaiting them, cell phones snapping pictures. 

Harry’s already at the gate, waiting for the bell to ring so he can dismiss his class. He’s walking down the line asking each of the children if they see who they’re supposed to go home with, crouching down to their height so they can point them out to him. Some children in his class look a little upset because they don’t see their parents yet. Harry quickly consoles them, telling them they can all play a fun game together while they wait for their ‘Mummies and Daddies.’

You do the same with your kids, and by the time the bell rings and you finish dismissing the ones who saw someone there to pick them up, there was one child from your class who was still waiting and two from Harry’s. He walks over to you, one of their tiny hands in each of his. The boy looks unbothered, but the girl was beginning to cry.

“Hey, Ava, should we ask Miss Y/L/N and her friend if they want to play iSpy with us? The more, the merrier, isn’t that right?” He looks down at her, and she nods, looking down. You figure she’s one of his more shy students he was telling you about earlier.

“Hi, sweetie! I’m Miss Y/L/N, are you waiting for your mom or dad?” She nods, biting her lip. You turn and gesture to your one student who was waiting as well. “Well, so is she! Don’t worry, they’ll be here.”

“I’m Matthew,” the little boy holding Harry’s other hand informs you, shifting from foot to foot. You give him a big smile.

“Hello, Matthew! I love your Spiderman shirt; he’s just the coolest. Jade, do you want to introduce yourself to Mr. Styles, Ava, and Matthew? Remember when we learned about introductions today in class? When you got to introduce yourself to all your classmates?”

Jade nods, a big, toothy grin on her face. “Hi! My name is Jade, and I am five-years-old but my birthday is September 19th, so I’m actually almost six-years-old,” she tells them matter-of-factly. “It’s very nice to meet you!” She adds, remembering the script you gave them earlier. Harry looks down at her, an impressed look on his face.

“Well, it is very lovely to meet you too, Jade! Do we all know how to play iSpy?” Jade and Matthew shout in excitement, but Ava just grips tighter onto Harry’s hand. He looks down at her again. “Do y’ want Miss Y/L/N and I to show you how to play, Ava?” His voice is very quiet, slow, and soothing. She nods, letting go of his hand.

“Well Ava,” you say, looking around for something to start the game out with. “I would say, “I spy with my little eye something green. Then you, Mr. Styles, Matthew, and Jade, would have to look around and name out everything that’s green. If you name something and it’s not it, then I will tell you nope, and you can try again, but if you figure it out, then you’re the winner! Does that make sense?”

She nods, and you see a gleam of excitement in her eyes. “Can I go first?” She asks quietly. You tell her, yes, and she looks around quickly, trying to find something to say. “I spy with my little eye something blue!” She has a triumphant smile on her face, and even though you immediately know she’s talking about the sky and you’re sure Harry does too, you both decide to take a step back and let the children take the game into their own hands.

“Y’know, that lil’ introduction Jade gave was really somethin’. I didn’t even think about teachin’ my kids that. Think I’ll try that out tomorrow,” Harry whispers, craning his neck slightly to be at your ear. You shiver at the feeling of his warm breath against your skin. 

“Yeah, I feel like that’s always a good first day of school activity for them to do. A lot of them have never really been exposed to people outside of their immediate family, so they’re not too sure how to talk to others.” Harry hums, standing back up straight.

“Mr. Styles,” Matthew calls, running over to Harry. “My mommy is here. Can I go now?” Harry nods, telling Matthew to wait for him so he can say hi to his mother. You watch as he walks away, overhearing as he tells the boy’s mother what a great job he did today and how he’s so excited to go through this school year with him in his class. Ten minutes later, Jade and Ava are gone as well, and Harry locks the dismissal gate. 

“I forgot how exhausting the first day could be,” he tells you, letting out a quiet sigh. “Ready to go to that meeting, though? It’s just about three.” You check your watch and see the time read at 2:57 PM.

“Yeah, just let me grab my bag, and we can head over there. I’m really hoping this won’t take too long; I was planning on going grocery shopping after this,” you walk down the hall towards your classroom and feel Harry’s gaze on you.

“Where do you like to go grocery shopping?” he asks after a few moments of silence. “I need to pick up some groceries this week, too. ’ve been eatin’ takeout for the past week, and I’m starting to feel like shit.” You laugh, unlocking your door. Harry stands outside, holding it open while you grab your purse and lunch bag.

“Honestly, I don’t have a preference. I switch it up a lot,” you shrug, making sure all the windows are closed before walking out. “Was there something, in particular, you were looking for?”

“Uh,” Harry scratches the back of his head. “No? Maybe you could text me a list of all your favorite stores, though. Jus’ so I won’t forget.”

You quirk an eyebrow at him, ignoring how fast your heart was beating. “Are you asking for my number, Mr. Styles?”

“I guess I am,” he replies nonchalantly. “We’re gonna be workin’ together a lot. Might as well have your number– if that’s okay, I mean.” He looks down at you.

“Yeah, remind me after the meeting,” you tell him, trying your hardest to play it cool. “Don’t let me forget.”

“Trust me, I won’t.”

“So Y/N and Harry, you two will be in charge of the pumpkin decorating booth? Is that right?” The principal looks down at his notes and then shifts his gaze between the both of you. You both nod.

“Yeah, I’m excited! I think it’ll be a lot of fun,” you reply excitedly. “We can go to the craft store and get a bunch of paints, but where do you think the best place to get the pumpkins would be?” You pull out your planner, ready to jot down any suggestions.

“You two could try going to a pumpkin patch? They’re starting to pop-up around town,” one teacher suggests. “I’m sure if you purchased a bunch and told them it was for a school event, we could get some kind of deal.” The rest of the faculty buzzes in agreement.

“Y/N and Harry, could you get to a pumpkin patch sometimes this week and see if they can give us an estimate of how much it would cost? Then I could let the PTA know.” You and Harry confirm that it will be possible to do sometime this week, and the meeting continues on.

By the time you’re finally free to leave the meeting, it’s already growing dark outside. Harry’s hands are shoved in his pockets, and he’s looking down at his feet. “So–”

“Do you want–”

You both stop, laughing awkwardly. “You go first.” you tighten the grip on your purse.

“Uh, I was jus’ gonna ask if I could get your number now. Yanno, so we can plan when we’re gonna go get all the stuff for our booth? And you still gotta tell me what your favorite grocery stores are,” he has a playful look in his eyes. For the thousandth time that day, your hands become clammy. There was just something about every interaction you had with him that made you so nervous. 

“Oh yeah,” you answer coolly, digging in your purse for your phone. “Just text your number, so I have it.” You hand him his phone, and he stops dead in his tracks, a look of concentration on his face. 

“I can’t walk and be on the phone at the same time,” he mutters when he looks back up and realizes you were watching him the whole time. “I don’t know how people do it.” He hands you back your phone. “What were y’ gonna ask me?”

“I was just um, I was gonna ask if you wanted me to give you a ride home? I mean, since you walked to work today and it’ll be dark soon,” talking to Harry made you feel like a nervous school girl interacting with her first crush, and you hated that feeling.

“I couldn’t ask you to do that–”

“It’s no bother, really,” you cut him off, and you realize you sound a little eager, but at that point, you didn’t even care. “I’m sure we don’t live too far from each other.” Harry looks slightly unsure but nods, and you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding.

“If you’re sure, Y/N. I appreciate it, I owe you one,” he’s following behind you to the teacher parking lot. You silently pray your car isn’t messy inside like it usually is as you approach it. You decide to pick up your pace and walk ahead of him, telling yourself if the passenger side was messy, you’d just quickly throw everything in the back. “Heyyyy, why’re you walkin’ so fast? Are you sure you’ve got the time to take me home?” He takes a few big strides and quickly catches up with your hurried, tiny ones.

“Yeah, of course, I have time,” you respond, unlocking your car as you approach it. “If it’s messy, then just ignore it.” you preface, honestly not remembering the state in which you left your car this morning when you walked into work.

“Don’t worry about it. You should see mine,” Harry jokes, and it immediately puts you at ease. As you’re about to open your door, Harry quickly rushes to your side, opening it himself. “Let me.” 

His hand rests over yours, and you quickly pull it away, your body heating up. “Harry, I’m already right here. I can open my own car door.” 

“I know you can. But I’m a gentle—“ 

“You’re a gentleman, I know,” you playfully roll your eyes and take a step back, allowing Harry to open your car door all the way. You couldn’t lie and say you weren’t flattered and honestly a little bit turned on. He flashes you a smile as you situate yourself behind the wheel of the car and makes sure you’re all the way in before slamming it shut. You see him lightly jog around to the passenger side, and soon enough, he’s beside you, your car immediately starting to smell like his cologne. 

“What music do you like to listen to?” Harry asks, pulling his phone out of his pocket. 

“You ask me a lot of random questions, Harry,” you reply, looking behind you as you slowly back out. 

“Is it a crime to wanna get to know my new coworker?” you can hear a smile in his voice. “C’mon. What’s your favorite music to listen to?” 

You shrug, looking both ways before exiting the parking lot. “Where do you live?” 

“I don’t know my address yet. Just take a left at this light coming up. Favorite music?” Out of the corner of his eye, you see him scrolling through his music library. 

“You don’t know your address yet?” 

“No. I’ll play something random,” he says, tapping his hand on his knee. “You can take a right at that stop sign up there.” You put on your blinker and glance over your shoulder before switching lanes. Harry quickly pairs his phone with your Bluetooth, and a song you’re unfamiliar with blares through your speakers. Neither one of you says anything else, only speaking to each other when he’s giving you directions to his house, and you’re confirming what he said.

After two more songs, Harry says, “S’right up here.” He’s led you to a beautiful apartment complex— one you were looking at when you were moving out of your parent’s home but just couldn’t afford as a new graduate. You expertly parallel park and then turn the car off, a silence falling between the two of you.

“This is a nice complex,” you tell him after a moment. “Really close to school. I see why you opted to walk to work today.” 

“Mhm,” he hums. His seatbelt is still fastened. “I understand if you’re busy, but did you wanna come in?” You raise an eyebrow at him, and he quickly backtracks. “I mean— it’s just— remember the activity you taught your kids today? About introductions? Jus’ wanted to know if you could walk me through it, that’s all.” 

“Oh. Well yeah, I can hang out for a bit.” You unbuckle your seatbelt and reach in the backseat for your purse that you threw haphazardly over your shoulder earlier. 

“Will your boyfriend be okay with you coming in, though?” He’s chewing on the inside of his cheek.

“What makes you think I have a boyfriend?” You’re slightly taken aback and oddly flattered that he thought you were in a relationship.

“I dunno,” his face grows red. “You got all weird when I opened doors for ya. Figured you had a boyfriend.”

“I don’t.”

“Cool.” More silence falls, this time an awkward one.

“Should we go inside now?” you unlock the doors, quickly getting out of the car. Harry follows behind you and waits for you to walk onto the sidewalk before going up the walkway.

“How close do you live to me?” Harry asks, punching in his gate code. He pulls the gate open and gestures for you to go ahead of him. You decide not to comment on it this time.

“A couple blocks away. I could probably walk over here if I was in the mood to,” Harry shuts the gate behind you and walks over to the first set of stairs, taking them two at a time. “I was interested in this complex when I was moving out of my parents’ but I settled on something else.” He hums, stopping in front of the first door at the top of the stairs. There’s a brown ‘Welcome!’ mat outside his door, along with a few potted plants.

“Here we are,” he looks over his shoulder as if he’s checking if you’re still there. “Excuse the boxes. ‘M not done unpacking yet.” He pushes open the door and steps in, quickly turning on the light. You’re met with the same sweet scent of vanilla that’s in his classroom. Considering he was in the process of unpacking, his apartment was reasonably tidy.

“It looks good in here,” your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest. You were in your coworker’s house that you just met that day, and you could already feel yourself developing a crush on him. There was obviously no way you’d let this relationship progress past anything strictly professional, but that didn’t mean you weren’t allowed to admire his beauty.

“Thanks,” he gives you a smile, relief washing over his face. “You can set your bag down if you want. Take a seat, make yourself at home.” He leaves the room, and you hear him rattling around in the kitchen. “Can I get you anything to drink? Wine? Coffee? Tea?”

“Coffee sounds great,” you reply. You set your purse down on his coffee table and sit on the edge of his couch, inspecting his living room closer. There were two books on the table, both flipped upside down as a way to mark his page. There were a few more plants inside, similar to the ones in front of his door. There was a framed picture of him with two beautiful women you assumed to be his mother and sister. Harry comes back into the room a few minutes later, two steaming cups of black coffee in hand.

“Here you are, Miss Y/L/N,” he puts on an exaggerated posh accent, and you giggle.

“Why thank you, Mr. Styles,” you respond in the same voice. “Do you have cream and sugar?”

He wrinkles his nose. “I think I might have sugar. Is oat milk, okay? I don’t have cream.” He goes back to his kitchen to retrieve the items before you can tell him it’s okay, and you’ll just drink it black. You thank him, pouring the tiniest splash of oat milk into your coffee. You can feel his eyes on you as you add a bit of sugar, stir, taste, and then add some more.

“So,” you begin after your coffee is made to your liking. “What did you think about your first day? You can be honest since we’re not on campus anymore.” Harry laughs, looking down at his fingernails.

“Uh,” he starts. You notice he says, ‘uh’ a lot. “It was terrific. Not so sure I would’ve felt the same way if I didn’t have you to help me through it.” 

“We’re partners in crime now, Harry. We’re the two Kindergarten teachers, and you’re the only other person there my age? We’ve definitely gotta stick together,” you give him a big smile. He doesn’t smile back but looks a bit troubled instead. You wait for him to speak, coming to accept that long pauses were just a thing when having a conversation with Harry.

“Y’know how I assumed you had a boyfriend earlier? I thought after I’d said that–– rather I hoped after I said that you’d be like,” he clears his throat. “‘Why, no! I don’t have a boyfriend. Do you have a girlfriend?’” He put on the worst American accent you’d ever heard to imitate your voice, causing you to laugh. “To which I would’ve replied with a simple ‘no.’” 

Now it’s your turn to leave Harry wondering what you’re thinking for the first time all day. You can feel his eyes on you as you look at his couch cushions, noticing a bit of crumbs that you hadn’t seen before. “Are you flirting with me?”

“I think you’re beautiful.”

“You don’t even know me. We just met today.”

“Does that mean I can’t think you’re beautiful?”

You bite your lip, feeling yourself starting to grow a bit turned on by his forwardness. There was a part of you that would risk it all for just one night in bed with Harry because you just found him that attractive. The rational, adult side of you was screaming, ‘Don’t mix business with pleasure!’. By now, you had both moved closer on the couch to one another, knees nearly touching. “I think you’re beautiful, too.” He grins, setting his coffee cup down. You do the same.

“Would it be crazy of me to tell you that I really wanna kiss you right now?” His face is mere inches from yours, so close that you could smell the coffee on his breath. You shake your head.

“No. I really wanna kiss you too.”

“C’ mere, then.” 

Harry leans forward a bit more until his lips are ghosting over yours. You pull at the collar of his shirt, bringing his already close body even closer to yours. His lips are softer than they look, and he’s a better kisser than you thought he’d be, too. He brings his hands up to tangle them in your hair, and that’s when you abruptly pull away, not wanting things to go too far. “We shouldn’t…” He looks at you with sad eyes, but he nods, understanding what you mean.

“Probably not the best idea?” his response comes out as more of a question than a statement, but you nod in agreement anyway.

“Definitely not. I’m um–– I’m actually gonna go,” you stand up, slinging your purse over your shoulder. “Thanks for the coffee, Harry. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, see––”

You’re out the door, rushing down the stairs before he can even finish his sentence.

The rest of the school week goes on without either one of you mentioning it. It’s a little awkward for a couple of days, but by the time Friday rolls around, both of you decide the best course of action to take regarding the kiss would be to act like it never happened. 

You’re in your room at lunch hanging up your kids’ artwork they made during their ‘Free Time’ this morning, having declined Harry’s lunch invitation for the fourth time that week. You decided to pretend to be busy with work so you wouldn’t be too tempted to go into his room. To most people, you’re sure it looked like you were avoiding him–– and maybe you were. However, you were trying to get over this crush on him in the best way that you knew how.

“Need some help?”

You jump, nearly falling backward off the stepstool you were on. “Holy shit, Harry! You scared the hell out of me!” You feel your body getting warm, and you quickly look away, not wanting him to see how flustered you were.

“Sorry, you weren’t answering my texts, so I decided to come see what you were up to,” he walks over to where you were standing and hands you a piece of art, smiling at it before handing it to you. “You’ve got some artists in your class.”

“Mhm,” you hum, not looking him in the eyes. You hear him let out a quiet sigh.

“Still able to go see about getting those pumpkins ordered after work?”

You had completely forgotten that you and Harry decided today would be the day you’d go get the pumpkin situated figured out for your booth. For a second, you consider making an excuse to get out of it, but you decide against it. This was something that both of you were asked to do, not just him, and you didn’t want the fact that you let your attraction to him cloud your judgment getting in the way of your professional responsibilities.

“Yeah, that works.”

He doesn’t say anything, and even though you’re not looking at him, you can see the gears in his head turning. “Should we talk––” 

You’re quite literally saved by the bell, the end of lunch interrupting where you knew he was about to lead the conversation. “I’ll see you after school? Did you walk here again? I can drive.” Harry nods slowly.

“Uh, yeah. he replies. “I walked. Uh, ’m gonna go get my kids. See you after school then?”

“Yup!” you respond, fake enthusiasm in your voice. Harry gives you one more look before walking out of your room. You wait until he’s all the way down the hall before following behind him to bring your class back inside. You knew you were the one making things awkward between you and Harry. However, the realistic part of you knew getting involved with your coworker was one of the worst ideas you’d ever had in your life. For now, you’d just tell yourself that you were probably more into Harry than he was into you and pray that would be enough to make you get over your crush.

“I haven’t been to a pumpkin patch since I was a kid.” Harry stuffs his hands farther into his pockets while yours are tightly hugging your chest. You hum, not saying anything. The car ride there was a little awkward, and you were glad it was so short. You could tell there was a lot Harry wanted to say, but you were glad he wasn’t saying it. You keep seeing him glance at you, but you pretend not to notice.

“What size pumpkins should we ask for? Small ones, huh?” Harry nods, looking around in childlike awe. There was a small petting zoo, booths selling warm drinks and kettle corn, and an obscene amount of children.

You walk around together for a moment before encountering a friendly-looking employee who looked like he could help you out. Harry takes over, explaining the situation, and why you need to order one hundred tiny pumpkins. While you’re waiting for the employee to ask the owner if that would even be possible, Harry turns to face you.

“Y/N? Can we talk about what happened on Monday?” you’re about to tell him that you’d rather not, but he continues. “I felt something during that kiss, Y/N. I’m not sure if you felt it too, but I don’t want things to be awkward between us. We have to get through an entire school year working side-by-side, and if you’re not interested, then I respect that one hundred percent, but I just want––”

“So the owner said that is possible!” The employee that was helping you out comes back with a form and clipboard in their hand. “Can you just fill out some information and let us know what time you need it tomorrow? The owner said he could get it delivered and give you guys a discount since you’re ordering so much.”

“That’s great!” you exclaim, taking the form from him. You were glad to have been saved from your conversation with Harry. You quickly go through and fill out everything you can, telling them they can bill your school’s PTA. 

The walk back to your car is silent. You’re replaying what Harry was saying to you over in your head, thinking about what he was going to say before he was interrupted. He opens your car door like he’s been doing, but he doesn’t make eye contact with you or say a word as he slides into the passenger seat.

“Y’can just drop me off,” Harry says quietly. He leans your seat back and closes his eyes. You wait to see if he’ll connect his phone, but he doesn’t, so you turn on the radio at a volume so low it almost can’t be heard. It takes everything in you not to speed back to his place. You just wanted him out of your car. You had such strong feelings for him that it physically hurt, and restraining yourself from telling him how you really felt was growing harder and harder.

“We’re here.” your voice is a little hoarse from not saying anything. Harry slowly opens his eyes and unbuckles his seatbelt, opening the door.

“Right. Thanks for the ride. What time do we need to be at school to set up our booth by?”

“Four. I can pick you up if you want?”

“Yeah. See you tomorrow, Y/N.” He closes the door and walks up to his gate without looking back at you once.

“Hi Miss Y/L/N! Hi Mr. Styles!”

Groups of your students had been coming up to you excitedly all evening. It made you happy to see that the Kindergarten classes were no longer divided. They were starting to hang out with one another. Their parents tell you how their children thought it was just the coolest thing to be on school grounds on a Saturday, and how even though it was only a week into the school year, they were having the best time. It was comments like this that made you fall in love with your job all over again.

Things between you and Harry were going well. It wasn’t awkward, but you think it was because you were both too busy helping children paint their pumpkins. You were glad that Harry didn’t take the bit of downtime the two of you had when no one was at your booth trying to talk about the kiss and instead talked about other random things instead. You find out he loves baking (specifically, bread), he has an obsession with old music, and has about fifty tattoos. He talks to his mom on the phone every day, and he is extremely close to his sister. You tell him about your parents’, your undergraduate experience, your hobbies, and you finally tell him what music you like to listen to.

The festival quickly comes to an end, and you find yourself sad once you and Harry are done cleaning up your booth, knowing that you were just going to drop him off at his apartment and go back to yours to spend another Saturday night alone. You get to his complex almost too quickly, and you almost want to keep going and pretend you accidentally missed it just to be with him a bit longer. Instead, you park.

“D’ya wanna come inside?” He blurts out. Even in the darkness of your car, you can tell his face is flushed. “I mean if you haven’t got plans. I know it’s a Saturday night, so I understand if––”

“Nope, I don’t have plans. I’d love to.” Your hands are shaky as you unbuckle your seatbelt. He quickly gets out of your car and runs around to your side, opening the door for you before you can do it yourself. You almost don’t even notice since it was becoming such a habit.

“I picked up this new bottle of wine a couple days ago that’ve been wanting to pop open. Think we deserve a glass or two after such a long week, hmm?” You wordlessly nod, wholly mesmerized with just how good Harry looked after such a long day of work. His curls fell perfectly across his forehead, his eyes were sparkling and full of excitement. 

“A glass of wine sounds great,” you reply with a chuckle. “I’m ready to drink a whole bottle by the end of the week if I’m being honest.” Harry laughs, quickly punching in his gate code. You could see his hands shaking a little bit, but you decide not to comment on it. He takes the stairs up to his apartment two at a time like he did last time you were there, but this time there’s an urgency and clumsiness to his actions that you haven’t seen before. He jams the key in his lock, quickly shoving the door open.

His apartment is a little messier than it was when you were in it at the beginning of the week, but it’s nothing disgusting. He runs his fingers through his curls, moving aside papers that were scattered along the length of the couch. “Sorry, I was doin’ some planning. Make yourself comfortable.” He disappears to the kitchen, and moments later, you hear the pop of a wine cork and the smooth sound of him pouring the alcohol into glasses.

He emerges from his kitchen, handing you a generously poured glass of wine. “Thanks, Harry,” you tell him before taking a big sip. It was sweet, and while you usually preferred a more dry wine, it was still delicious. 

“Cheers to the end of a successful first week,” he holds up his glass, and you smile, clinking yours with his. “Thanks for helpin’ me get through it, Y/N. Couldn’t have done it without you.” You give him a timid smile.

“Stop, Harry. You’re a great teacher. I can see your kids love you already,” you take another sip of wine. “I kinda do too. I mean–– that came out wrong. I don’t love you, but I do think I like you.” You didn’t know what came over you at that moment, but something told you now was the time to lay it all out on the table with Harry. He sets his glass of wine down, the biggest smile on his face.

“Really? I thought you weren’t interested. Was kinda startin’ to feel like you hate me,” he sounds a little sad. You shake your head.

“Quite the opposite, actually. I’m really into you,” you didn’t even realize how you’d inched your way towards Harry. “I’ve been trying not to think about how we kissed because we shouldn’t, you know? We’re coworkers. I’ve been trying not to think about it all week, though, and I just can’t get you out of my mind.” He stares intensely into your eyes, chewing on the inside of his cheek like he usually does when he’s thinking.

“Can I kiss you, Y/N?” he finally asks. You’re in the same position as you were last time, being mere inches away from the other’s lips. Only this time, you smell the wine on his breath, not coffee. You nod quickly, and Harry cups your face in his hands, hungrily pressing his lips against yours.

“You can do more than kiss me, actually,” you tell him breathlessly. “You can do whatever you want with me.”

Harry raises an eyebrow, a shocked look on his face. “When you say anything…” he trails off.

“I want you to fuck me, Harry,” you tell him bluntly. “Please. Been wanting that all week.” He licks his lips, looking at you in a way he hasn’t yet before. 

“I can definitely do that,” he replies, resting his hand on your thigh. His large hand is dangerously close to your pussy, and you can already feel yourself growing wet. “Let’s get all these clothes off you then, huh?” 

You stand up and quickly start removing your clothes. First, your blouse comes off, and that’s quickly followed by your bra. Harry’s leaning back on the couch, arms resting behind his head. “Enjoying the show?” you ask, quickly pulling down your jeans and underwear. You’re completely naked in front of him in thirty seconds flat, and you reckon that’s the fastest you’ve ever undressed for anything. 

“Very much so,” he mumbles, palming himself over his khakis. “C’ mere, Y/N.” he pats his lap, and you move to sit in it, now straddling him. He softly presses his lips against yours, the hunger that was there just a moment ago completely dissipated. This was a much more hesitant kiss, more gentle and tender. “You’re really beautiful, Y/N.”

You giggle. “I know. You’ve told me that before.”

“I want you to know how much I mean it.”

“I know you do.”

Harry nods. “Can I have a taste of ya now?” you notice that his accent sounds a bit thicker than usual, voice a tad gruffer. You nod, swallowing thickly. Climbing off Harry, you lay back on the couch, situating yourself, so it’s a little more comfortable. He looks into your eyes, placing his hands on your knees. “Is this okay, Y/N?” You nod again, and he removes his hands.

“What’s wrong?” your voice has a hint of desperation in it, but after a week of extreme sexual tension, you wanted nothing more than to cum by the hands of this man.

“Wanna hear you tell me it’s okay. I don’t wanna do anything you don’t want,” he’s looking down at his hands.

“Harry, I wouldn’t have given you a striptease and laid back on this couch for you if I didn’t want it. I wholeheartedly give you permission to do whatever you want with me––”

That’s enough for him. He roughly pries your legs open, immediately licking a long stripe up your heat. You cry out, not expecting him to get right into it. You look down at him and groan when you see he’s making eye contact with you, a smug look on his face. “How’s tha’, love?” You nod, tangling your hands in his curls.

“Yeah Harry, please,” you moan. Harry sucks harshly at your clit, pulling off loudly, the sound echoing throughout his minimally furnished apartment.

“Please what, pet?” He’s looking you dead in the eyes, a devilish grin on his face while his index finger rubs small circles on your clit. Your chest is heaving up and down quickly as you try to calm your breathing down.

“Please make me cum on your tongue, Harry,” you try pushing his head back down to your cunt, but he doesn’t budge.

“Think I rather like hearin’ you beg like this fo’ me. Enjoyin’ watching you squirm like tha’, love.” Just as your about to beg for him some more to feed his inflated ego, he attaches his lips to your clit once more, this time adding his ring finger into your tight pussy. “You’re tight. Sure you’ll be able to take my cock?” His voice is muffled, and you just barely make out what he says.

You clench around his finger, and he laughs, the vibrations sending a new sensation across your clit. “Y’like thinkin’ about my cock, hmm?”

“Yeah, want you in me,” you beg, lifting your hips up. He grips onto your hips tightly, keeping you in place.

“Can feel yeh gettin’ ready for me, darlin’. Think you can take another one?” You nod, and Harry gently places kitten licks on your swollen clit while he slowly pushes his middle finger into you. You feel full in a way you haven’t felt in such a long time, and he only had two fingers in you. Once he pumps his fingers in and out of you a few times, he goes back to harshly sucking on his clit, moaning every so often so you can feel the vibrations against your cunt.

“Fuck,” you’re moaning loudly, and you pray Harry’s neighbors don’t hear you, knowing how thin apartment walls were.

“So fuckin’ wet for me, doll,” he mutters, adding another finger inside you. The burn feels amazing, and you place your hand on his wrist, urging him to go faster. “Gonna cum in my mouth, hmm? Gonna let me feel ya around m’ fingers?”

“Yes, please, Harry,” you feel yourself nearly there, your orgasm threatening to overtake you at any moment. 

“Give it to me then, Y/N. Cum for me,” he demands. As soon as he says those three words, you’re done for, your body going tense as waves of pleasure roll throughout your body. He doesn’t remove his digits from the your cunt until you’re coming down from your high, placing a kiss to your clit. He laughs as you shudder at the overstimulation. Harry places his three fingers that were just inside of you and his mouth and sucks on them, not once breaking eye contact with you. 

“That was really good,” you tell him, crawling on your knees towards him to place a kiss on the underside of his jaw—Harry’s beaming, a triumphant look on his face.

“Not yet. Gotta make y’ cum one more time. I’m a gentleman, after all.” You know he’s messing with you but also serious, so you lean back on the couch, opening your legs once again.

“Are you gonna take off your clothes too? Why am I the only one that’s naked?” Harry laughs, and you hear the clanking of his belt as he undoes it. 

“You’re impatient, aren’t ya?” you nod, and he pulls down his tenting khakis and tight boxers. His cock springs up, slightly touching his stomach, and he hisses at the feeling. “Hold on a sec.” He gets up quickly, and you hear him hurry to what you assume in the bathroom, rummaging around. He comes back a minute later with a box of condoms, making you laugh.

“Is that a new box of condoms? Have you been holding onto those all week, Mr. Styles?” Harry rolls his eyes and opens the box, ripping open a condom expertly with his teeth.

“Weren’t you just the one beggin’ for me, pet? I’d watch it if I were you,” he jokes, rolling the condom onto his hard length. He leans down to place wet, opened mouth kisses to your breasts. “So beautiful.”

“Are you gonna take off your shirt?” you ask quietly. “I kinda wanna see all your tattoos.” Harry raises an eyebrow at you but unbuttons his shirt nevertheless, throwing it into the mess of clothes scattered around the living room. You reach your hand up, shakily tracing the swallows on his chest, moving down to the butterfly across his stomach and finally to the ferns on his abdomen. Harry’s staring down at you, watching as you delicately touch his skin. “You have so many.” you finally say. He nods.

“Yeah. Some of them I just got for the hell of it. Felt like after I got that first tattoo, it was hard to stop.” He caresses the skin on your thighs, and you shudder again. “Gonna let me get inside that pretty lil’ cunt now?”

“Please.”

Harry aligns himself with your entrance and slowly pushes into you, sharply inhaling as you clench around his length. “Relax, Y/N.’ve got ya,” he tells you reassuringly. “Can’t get inside ya if you’re all tense like tha’.” You can tell Harry’s trying his hardest not to absolutely wreck you, the vein in his forehead very prominent from clenching his jaw so tightly. You grip tightly onto his bicep, biting your lip as you adjust to his size. You were so wet and indescribably turned on that you felt every vein his thick cock had to offer, and you knew you wouldn’t last long once he started moving. By the looks of it, Harry wouldn’t either.

“You can move,” you tell him, squeezing your eyes shut. Harry slowly pulls out of you and then ever so gently sinks back inside you, bottoming out. He lets out a breathy moan, moving one of his hands up to tweak your nipples. “Harder, Harry, fuck.” 

He immediately pulls out of you and slams back inside, the sounds of his balls slapping against your ass echoing in the room. You scream in pleasure, no longer caring if his neighbors hear what you two were doing. 

“Like tha’?” He asks cheekily, working up a steady rhythm. You nod, gripping your boobs to keep them from bouncing. Harry shakes his head, forcefully removing your hands. “Nope, none of that. Wanna see ’em.” He takes both of your hands in one of his, pinning them up over your head. His other hand reaches in between your bodies to rub at your clit, and before you have time to warn him, you’re cumming again, squirting all over his cock. 

Harry throws his head back in pleasure, his thrusts getting sloppy and frantic, and you know he’s seconds away from his own orgasm. You spur him on, telling him how badly you wanted him to come inside of you (even though he was wearing a condom). He stills moments later, shaking above you as he holds himself up with an arm, not wanting to collapse on top of you.

“Fuckin’ hell, Y/N. Why did we wait a whole week to do this again?”

[wheatley-imagine-scenarios]

A and A

Okay I'm just gonna give context first because this is gonna end up getting posted and maybe two people will know what's going on. It's a Q and A where one person know the question and answers it (in this case being GLaDOS), while the other two (Wheatley and Rick) don't know the question and have to answer for themselves based off of the first person's answer. Get it? No? Well too bad, here's a script:

'Out of the three of you, who is the least vanilla?'

GLaDOS: It wouldn't surprise me if it was Rick, but I'm going to assume me.

Wheatley: Uh, I don't think I'm gonna stand a chance-

GLaDOS: *nods towards camera*

Wheatley: So I reckon it would be a toss up between you two.

Rick: I think it would be me cause I've got really strong legs.

GLaDOS: Please extrapolate as to what your legs are doing in these situations.

Rick: Kicking.

GLaDOS: Oh. My god.

Wheatley: *laughing even though he doesn't know what's funny yet*

GLaDOS: So the question was out of us three, who is the least vanilla. So, who has the most exotic sex.

Wheatley: Ohh.

GLaDOS, to Rick: And apparently you would be kicking.

Wheatley: I was right, it definitely wasn't me.

GLaDOS: I mean, you had such vanilla sex that you procreated.

Wheatley: Yeah,,

GLaDOS: You basic bitch.

Wheatley: I did sex for what it was made for and nothing else.

GLaDOS: God, you fucking catholic-

Rick: How 'bout you catho-lick my balls.

'How do you feel about frogs?'

GLaDOS: I like them, but I don't know what to do with them.

Rick: I mean, I've considered just, just cutting them right off, honestly.

GLaDOS: Wow. Harsh.

Wheatley: I wanna see how far I can stretch them.

GLaDOS: Oh no, they'll die.

Wheatley: 30 centimeters.

GLaDOS: Holy shit. That's a wide frog.

Wheatley: Thank you.

GLaDOS: The question was 'how do you feel about frogs?'.

Wheatley: Very stretchy!

GLaDOS: Apparently so.

'On average, how many times do you get recognized in public?'

GLaDOS: Honestly, almost every time I go outside.

Wheatley: Specifically only when I get my hand stuck in a pringles can.

Rick: *laughing already*

GLaDOS: That's very embarrassing for you.

Wheatley: I know,,

Rick: It only happens to me

GLaDOS: Mhm

Rick: On a wednesday

GLaDOS: Oh?

Rick: At 12 pm exactly. It happens for about an hour, but it's very intense.

Wheatley: Every wednesday?

Rick: Wednesday. Intense.

GLaDOS: I don't want to-

Wheatley: IN A TENT?!

Rick: What was the question??

GLaDOS: Oh, it was 'when do you get recognized in public?' And I guess it's just that every time you get your hand stuck in a pringles can, someone's like "there he is."

Wheatley: E v e r y t i m e. "Oh not again- Aw fuck they're watching me"

'How long is your big toe?'

GLaDOS: I think it's quite average.

Rick: Sounds kinda like a willy.

Wheatley: It does-

GLaDOS: Oh, I wouldn't choose something as silly as that.

Rick: It's fucking massive.

GLaDOS: I have noticed that.

Rick: Yeah. Painful.

GLaDOS: *turns to Wheatley* How about you?

Wheatley: I don't believe in it.

GLaDOS: It's a quantifiable fact.

Wheatley: Nope. Don't believe in it. Don't trust people who believe in it. Until I see it with my very own eyes.

GLaDOS: You have.

Wheatley: Well, it could be an illusion, could be mirrors.

GLaDOS: They just wanted to know how big your toe was.

Wheatley: I,, don't have any. It's just a slab of meat down there. So it's just like- *slaps table with hands to simulate feet slabs* Plat plat, like a duck.

GLaDOS: So, you just have hooves?

'What are your thought on this image? *shows barney meme that maybe I'll add later*

GLaDOS: It fills my body with an indescribable amount of dread.

Rick: Where as for me, I see it as more of a responsibility. A duty.

Wheatley: I think it tastes like yummy ice cream.

GLaDOS: You can taste it?

Wheatley: Mhm!

GLaDOS: What kind of ice cream does it taste like?

Wheatley: Purple.

GLaDOS: That is,, good. The question asked your thoughts on this image *shows the image*

Wheatley: Ohhhh,, Purple!

GLaDOS: Where as you find it to be a responsibility.

Rick: I do.

'Has a girlfriend ever pegged you?'

GLaDOS: Not yet, but you know, if the situation arises.

Rick: I've done it hundreds of times.

GLaDOS: Holy shit.

Rick: Hundreds.

GLaDOS: Jesus Christ.

Rick: I have a problem, and I need- I need help. You know what, once we're done with this, I'm gonna do it again.

GLaDOS: Can you at least wait until you get home?

Rick: No, No! I'm gonna do it in your garden.

GLaDOS: Not again.

Rick: Yes!

Wheatley: I don't believe in it.

GLaDOS: Is it like a masculinity thing?

Wheatley: No, I'm a coward?

GLaDOS: *struggles to keep composure* This was the question *shows them*

Rick: *starts wheezing and dying of laughter*

Wheatley: *nods* Yeah-

GLaDOS: You don't believe in it, but mostly it's because you're a coward.

Wheatley: Yeah, I choose not to believe in it cause I'm scared.

'Favorite food and least favorite food'

GLaDOS: I'll go with zucchini and pizza

Rick: For me it's a lot of milk.

GLaDOS: And?

Rick: Just milk.

GLaDOS: Both?

Rick: Just milk-

Wheatley: Milk and milk.

GLaDOS: That's a fucked up relationship, then.

Rick: Just milk me up.

Wheatley: Fish and chips, and a really long hot dog.

*both start wheezing*

Wheatley: Like, too long.

GLaDOS: Why one and not the other?

Wheatley: Well one's very intimidating and then the other's a really long hot dog.

*both laugh again*

Wheatley, nervously: What was the question, GLaDOS?

GLaDOS: The question was 'what is your least favorite food and most favorite food?'

Rick: I do hate milk, I don't drink milk.

GLaDOS: But apparently you love it as well.

Rick: But I also love it, it's just a terrible love-hate relationship.

'How does one get a boyfriend?'

GLaDOS: Just give them a little lick *shakes head slightly towards camera*

Wheatley: Just one little lick?

GLaDOS: That'll do it *mouths 'it wont't' to the camera*

Rick: I like to get one of those sticker machines where you click the thing and it spells out names and stuff, so I just spell out, you know, 'Property of me', 'my shit, hands off' and then I just stick it on, on most things.

GLaDOS: Wow. Genius, that is legally binding.

Rick: Yeah.

GLaDOS: Incredible.

Wheatley: I stuff my mouth with it like a little chipmunk.

GLaDOS: You stuff your mouth with w h a t? What do you stuff your mouth with?

Wheatley: And I save it for winter.

GLaDOS: So to be clear, you are voring potential boyfriends.

Rick: *laughing*

Wheatley: ,, y e p.

GLaDOS: And storing them for the winter.

Wheatley: I- I don't want them to leave.

GLaDOS: That'll do it- But- They survive?

Wheatley: Yeah, I feed them.

GLaDOS: Ohh.

Wheatley: I put a little,, Chex Mix in there.

'You ever want to have kids?'

GLaDOS: Probably not my own.

Rick: I see them all the time and it drives me nuts. I wish I could just chuck it outside and leave it out there.

GLaDOS: Thank you, finally someone said it. What do you think?

Wheatley: I only play with my wife's, I just play with hers.

GLaDOS: True, and good-

Wheatley: Yeah, I don't have one of my own, so I just play with hers instead.

GLaDOS: *processes and takes a deep breath* CUCK

Wheatley: *WHEEZES*

Rick: :O h u h

GLaDOS: I almost passed out just then, I got such a head rush, that just threw me so much.

Rick: She hasn't said 'cuck' in 10 years.

GLaDOS: The question was 'do you want to have kids?' You play with your wife's, but you don't have your own.

Wheatley: I-

GLaDOS: That's not your kid??

Wheatley: Oh, and you said 'cuck', I thought you said 'cock'.

'What's your count?'

GLaDOS: Uh, six?

Wheatley: I've had just the one, but it's a really good one.

GLaDOS: Woah. Congrats.

Wheatley: Thank you :)

GLaDOS: If it ain't broke.

Rick: Six entire ducks

GLaDOS: OH MY GOD- That's six entire crimes.

Rick: At least.

'Do you stand up to wipe your ass after you poop?'

GLaDOS: No, because I'm not a freak.

Rick: Well, I'm a nasty freak-

GLaDOS: I know.

Rick: I will just go wild.

GLaDOS: I am aware.

Wheatley: Where as I happen to know that GLaDOS is lying. I saw her do it.

GLaDOS: That's illegal.

Wheatley: I filmed it.

GLaDOS: That's illegal.

Wheatley: And, I've already published it online.

GLaDOS: Oh my god.

Wheatley: With subtitles.

Rick: Oh, nice, that's very inclusive of you.

Wheatley: Yeah, all very descriptive as well.

Rick: I appreciate that.

GLaDOS: You know what? Now that I know it's inclusive, I'm okay with it. The question was 'do you stand up to wipe?'

[hyenahunt]

Secret Service: GLOBALISM - 2

Writer: Akira

Season: Winter

Characters: Kohaku, Niki

Proofreading: bakemonoremy (JP) & Skyress (ENG)

Translation: haranami

Niki: I’ll pay as much as you want — from Rinne-kun’s wallet, of course!

Location: Osaka

[A few hours later, in Osaka.]

Kohaku: ……

Niki: Huh~? No fair, Kohaku-chan! That looks so yummy!

Thanks to that “Order” or whatever, I can’t even eat the things I want to! I’m on the brink of death here!

Kohaku: ……

…Oh, yeah. Ya came all the way to Osaka, Niki-han, but you’re not allowed to eat anythin’ with flour in it, right? [1]

Niki: Yeah, exactly! I’m low on flour! Somebody, anybody! Gimme some of that sweet white powder! I’ll pay as much as you want — from Rinne-kun’s wallet, of course!

Kohaku: Hey, quit yellin’ things that people are gonna misinterpret... But food made outta flour, huh? The first things that come t’mind are takoyaki an’ okonomiyaki.

Niki: Aghhh, don’t say their names! My tummy’s getting even grumblier now~!

At this rate, I’m gonna lose myself to hunger and rob a kitchen or something! Please, you’ve gotta stop me before I turn into a criminal!

Kohaku: It’s your stomach. You’ve gotta at least be able t’control it on your own… but I can’t say that t’you of all people, Niki-han. It’s basically like a sickness in your case.

You can eat things that don’t have flour in ‘em, right? I’ll buy ya an onigiri from that convenience store over there t’tide you over fer now.

An’ then, the moment the SS preliminaries end, ya can eat takoyaki an’ the like till you’re sick of it.

Niki: But I wanna eat some now! Ugh, at least let me breathe in the scent wafting over from your plate…!

Kohaku: Quit clingin’ t'me, you’re gettin’ in the way.

Rinne-han an' HiMERU-han always act like they’ve got a screw or two loose, but you definitely need supervision too when you’re hungry.

I’ve got a lot on m’plate. That's why I don’t wanna leave Osaka unless I absolutely have to.

Niki: Ahaha! Now that you mention it, HiMERU-kun actually does weird stuff pretty often, huh?

He’s gotten even worse ever since we came to Osaka. Is it ‘cause of his Order? Or is that just how he is?

Kohaku: I reckon that ain’t his true self. HiMERU-han’s actually a pretty jolly fellow.

Niki: Yup. I’m happy that HiMERU-kun doesn’t really put up a front anymore, especially not around us.

Crazy: B’s slowly but steadily moving forward in a good direction.

Kohaku: Yeah, I sure hope so… Though our fans might think that we’re bein’ too obedient an’ not very Crazy:B-like at all.

Niki: Nah, peace is the best! War leads to hungry stomachs…!

Kohaku: That’s true. Back when we were kids, I’m sure we all learnt that fightin’ an’ squabblin’ amongst ourselves ain’t worth it, so I wonder why it’s so hard for us t’let go of the weapons in our hands?

Can’t say I mind too much, though. If everybody stays this way, we’re never gonna be out of a job.

(...Havin’ convinced myself of that, I gave up. I was sure that, at least durin’ my lifetime, nothin’ would end up changin’.)

(But, even though I jus’ donned this title of “idol” on a whim, as a way to protect an’ watch over Bou…)

(I realized that it gives ya a tremendous amount of power — more than I could’ve imagined.)

(If ya make an ally out of an establishment as huge an’ influential as ES, there’s nothin’ ya won’t be able to do. At least within this country, that is.)

(SS is proof of that.)

(They do have the support of the Gatekeeper, who’s got tons of funds overseas, but it’s been one miracle after another ever since SS started.)

(ES has been actin’ like a god would, toyin’ around with this whole country however they’d like — they showed us all how they’ve got enough power t’do so.)

(The average person wouldn’t even notice, though. They’d jus’ keep cheerin’ us idols on without a care in the world.)

(I’m sure the people with sharp instincts have an idea of what’s goin’ on, an’ they’re probably tryin’ to take action. But, if ya wanna overpower ES, you’d have t’be as powerful as a god, too.)

(An’ the fastest way to do that is t’win SS.)

(The premise of the competition has always been that the champion would get the support of the entire idol industry.)

(But the situation’s changed, an’ not in a good way. Getting full backing from ES means being able t’use that godlike authority however ya choose.)

(I’m sure there are people out there who’d use that tremendous power t’fulfill their personal desires, like our Vice Prez-han or Rinne-han...)

(An’ there are also people like the members of Trickstar or Rabu-han who jus’ consider the title of SS champion t’be nothin’ more than a fancy gold medal.)

(But a portion of people have started t’notice that this country is facin’ a real abnormality; these are unprecedented times. Winnin’ SS means that you’ll be able t’make the next era yours.)

(You’ll basically be able t’grant any wish you could dream of. SS is the holy grail that everyone’s been searchin’ an’ longin’ for.)

(I wonder how many people would be able t’hold themselves back if they saw that danglin’ right before their eyes? Right now, we’re gettin’ along, havin’ fun as we do our idol work, just like always.)

(But how long is that gonna last?)

(Desire drives people mad. Hope an’ dreams lead ‘em astray. Love an’ justice tempt ‘em into error.)

(But the gamblin’ den opened its doors long ago. No one can leave anymore… not this late in the game.)

✦✦✦✦✦

Translation Note: 

1. Unfortunately for Niki, most of Osaka's specialties use flour in some way.

✦✦✦✦✦

← prev ✦ all ✦ next →

[njeancastro316]

Captive

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

This is what happens when one of your tumblr sisters @moon-ascendant teases you with a picture of Daniel Gillies as Wing commander Hayes from Occupation Rainfall just to show you his hands and active the heck of the hand kink 🤤🥵 while chatting. Love ya! I have not watch the movie. I’m just going from the synopsis of the story.

English is not my first language.🤷🏻‍♀️

Bolds thoughts: sorry that’s my style of writing

Warnings SMUT like real SMUT complete SMUT be freaking gentle this was torturous to write. Lord knows I love to read them but writing them is a completely different thing entirely. So if you’re younger that 18 please look away my darlings.

Kudos to the gif creator , that giff was used for the facial expressions and the yummy eye FUCK Vibes Hayes gives the female reader.

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

Y/N couldn’t think of a worse situation . At the moment she was held captive in an Australian military facility, underground in a secret lab where gruesome experiments were done to the alien invaders. She led a mission to free the captives and ended up being one. She was stripped and left in nothing but her underwear her hands were tied and her arms were up placed on some sort of a butchers hook , behind her a concrete wall. Tired and beaten up she waited for the commander of the facility . Since she didn’t talk to the officers they summoned the man himself to whom they referred as the beast. She was anxious but not scared . Her arms hurt from the uncomfortable position they were placed in .

Then footsteps could be heard from the corridor. The comander was close , coming to interrogate her and possible torture her. She would not give the wanker the satisfaction of making her talk , she’d rather die. Beeping sounds were heard and her breath hitched on her throat as the door whooshed open. In came the one person she never in a million years expected to see. So this was their leader Special Wing Comander Hayes .They had history. ‘Bugger’ she thought . Hayes brown eyes locked on hers and spoke to the rest of the men in the room. “Leave us”.

“But sir she’s dangerous” the soldier interrupted . Big mistake Hayes gun was out in a flash hitting the man with it on his face blood splattering everywhere from the soldiers nose.

“If I can’t control this little sheila then perhaps I do deserve to die. Now fuck off”. He went to the control console shutting the monitors down. Once the soldiers were gone he turned to Y/N and by god he had never look more handsome . This man made the uniform look like a sin she desperately wanted to commit. “My Ohhh my Y/N” he started. “Fancy that ... what are the odds of me finding you here of all places”.

“Fuck off Hayes”.

“Tchhh tchhh tchh”he reprimanded with his tongue. “Language mate , I see something’s never changed” he smirked. “Now listen very carefully baby . This could go either fairly easy where you tell me who’s leading the resistance and what is their location? Or things could get ugly up to where I have to get it out of you by any means necessary and we both know that I don’t want to do that, not to you luv. So what do ya reckon eh? , come on talk to me”. He stood in front of her as her chest heaved frustrated.

“I’m not talking Hayes. Do what you have to I’m not a traitor and a coward like you”! She shouted.

His hand found her neck swiftly and gave her a hard squeeze “You wound me mate” . “Look whose talking about traitors THEY invaded US , THEY are killing US why do you help THEM ? he asked upset squeezing a little making her harder for her to breathe then releasing his hold a bit enough for Y/N to catch her breath.

“Not all of them are bad , what you are doing here is wrong , there has to be another way to defeat them . Not like this Hayes please listen to me I” she spoke while taking gulps of much needed oxygen.

“You can what ? Help me? My duty is to my country and if I have to torture and kill the lot of them bastards he paused I will”. “I’ll ask one last time luv tell me who’s your leader? Don’t make me hurt you”. He ran his gun over from her cheek to her breasts . She recoiled.

“Fuck you”! Spitting to the ground disrespecting him.

“Fuck me ? ... Fuck me?!” Hayes snapped he pressed her to the wall with his body . The hand on her neck moved to her dark locks, his long fingers tangling on her tresses pulling her head back hard while his gun pressed to the underside of her left breast. “You want to try that again luv? , I’m going to give you one last chance”. He snarled. Y/N remembered what those big calloused hands could do as he jabbed his gun to her side again and pulled her hair simultaneously earning him a moan not from pain or discomfort but from lust.

“Is this ... he paused “is this turning you on mate?” He smirked

“Hayes let me go ... I don’t have the information you seek Please .. please I” she gasped her panties were gone. His gun disappeared and soon his fingers were at her core .

“God”! She moaned “Hayes please”.

‘Fuck this interrogation’ he thought he’d missed her and she was here vulnerable and ready for him to take her to heaven. There was something about having her like this arms up hands tied that he could not resist. He sped the movement of his fingers making Y/Ns eyes rolled back into her head. ‘Fuck the mission he’s mine’ she was close. Suddenly her vision blurred and white appeared before her eyes as she came on his fingers her body shaking violently. He brought his fingers to his mouth and licked them clean ‘Fucking delicious baby’ he ran his tongue through his lips before taking her mouth with his own. His slippery tongue fought with her for dominance eventually winning. Y/N threw her head back hissing as his lips found her breasts . His beard scratched her light sensitive skin as he took a nipple in his mouth and suckled.

“Untie me” she begged .

“No”

“Please let me touch you”

He almost gave in ... almost “No” making her growl and curse pulling at her bindings.

Y/N heard his zipper come undone making her look down to his trousers . She had never been so glad to hear that sound. She looked up at him and the look on his face made her cum right then and there. He was so intense.

With little effort he grabbed her by the back of her thighs and hoisted her up against his waist . His length was warm and hard ready to take her. Y/N wrapped her legs around him and leaned forward to kiss him. He sighed into the kiss. He could feel her trembling with need as his fingers greazed her lower back , his tongue intertwining with hers, relishing in her sweet taste. He couldn’t wait any longer and with a hard thrust he swallowed her moan. He was finally in and it was blissful. Hayes set a fast and brutal pace hammering her against the wall and Y/N enjoyed every single second of it. He pulled her hands from the hook and place them behind his neck . She met his thrusts pressing her forehead against his as they panted into each other’s mouths. “Hayes”... Y/N whimpered he knew she was close so he lowered his hand to her core again and started to rub her clit. She moaned into his ear as her thrusts became desperate trying to keep up with him but failing .With a few more movements of his hips she screamed his name for the whole facility to hear . Feeling her walls convulsing around him sent the wing comander over the edge whispering her name fervently over and over again. Coming down from his high he pulled out slowly hissing in the process. “Sensitive comander”? Y/N whispered making him chuckle. “Something like that mate” he took her arms off from around his neck and looking into one of his pockets he produced a knife. “What are you doing”?! She got anxious. “Hush now lass” he cut off her bindings he steadied her .“Get dressed and go I’ll cover ya”. Y/N’s eyes widened “Come with me Hayes”. “No luv I’m into this way to deep , I’ve made my bed no way I’ll back out now” .He grabbed her face and brought his lips to hers one last time. Once dressed she turned to leave when he held her hand .

“What?”

“Take my gun” he put the firearm on her hands.

“You cannot give me this , I can’t” her eyes full of tears.

“You have to and make it believable” he nodded.

“You can’t be serious Hayes ...no” she looked at him refusing to do what he commanded .

“Now my luv you’ll have a window of 60 seconds before I tripped the alarm. Do you understand?”

“Y/N”! he shouted .

“Bugger” she said angry.

“For what is worth... I love you” he gave her a small smile.

“See ya comander” she said before hitting him with his gun on the face cutting his right eyebrow open and aiming at his arm shooting on the forearm.

“You bitch!! ... Fuck”!

“I love you too”she ran from the room hoping she could find the exit before he tripped the alarm.

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

There you go a little fluffy towards the end. 😁 Please my smut writing needs some serious refinement but hell I did it weeee!!🎉🎉. I don’t know what happens or have seen Occupation Rainfall , I just couldn’t resist Daniel in a uniform 🤤🥵. I tried to keep the Australian in it lol, I dont know anyone from there so I apologize in advance 🤦🏻‍♀️. I hope you enjoy. Like , reblog , leave coments. I adore them. Toodles until next time my darlings.

@hellotvshowtrash @moon-ascendant @moon-child-writer @multifandom-girlie @eternityunicorn @elejahfanfic @mikaelson-emma @dumble-daddy @nikmikaelsonswife @lady-salvatore @soul-revoir @maldita-world @satedbond @xxwritemeastoryxx @elijahs-wife @lokis-favorite-follower @petrova-banz @umaficwriter @raemikaelson @ronniemikaelson

[pipedreil]

Which of the foxes do you reckon can cook/bake from like Could Work In A Restaurant to like Cannot Even Get Anything Hot Enough To Burn It?

this took me a hot second to answer im sorry but here are my thoughts on foxes in the kitchen !!

i 100% believe that andrew is a good cook but he pretends he isnt bc he knows it gets on kevin’s nerves 

like he could easily cook himself a healthy but yummy meal but instead he will sit in front of kevin and see how fast he can devour this container of ice cream

i also believe that the last time aaron tried to cook a meal in the dorms, the fire alarms went off and the entire building had to evacuate all bc he wanted hot pockets at 3am

dan and matt are pretty good cooks thanks to lessons they’ve been getting from abby every time they visit her 

allison can make basic things as long as she has a recipe in front of her and someone (renee) there to make sure she’s using the right stuff 

renee is more into baking than she is cooking

sometimes after their sparring sessions, her and andrew will go back to his dorm and bake something together

nicky is also a really good cook, especially since he took care of the twins and had to keep them fed and such

he’s roped the monsters into attending a weekly “family dinner” where he’ll cook everyone a nice big meal 

it’s also turned into “let’s find out what kind of foods neil enjoys bc he never had the liberty of trying a variety of food while on the run”

neil has been banned from every single kitchen ever

that boy is not allowed within fifty feet of any kitchen appliance bc it will end it hell

(this rule was created by kevin after neil broke the window in their dorm while trying to use an electric mixer)

due to his time in the nest, kevin is really strict with his diet, so he taught himself how to cook once he got to palmetto 

he finds staying healthy a lot easier when he makes the food himself bc he knows exactly what goes into it

however, after spending so much time with the foxes, he’s slowly branching out and trying other things that before would have made him cringe

[fantasmalforces]

The captain found it hard to sneak around given the bulkiness of their armor, yet on the Unreliable it had been rare to see Artemis outside of their pressed, green uniform.

Stalking along the stairwell, strong arms wrapped around Holly and the captain's chest pressed into her back. A low and familiar voice rang out as tinted lips kissed at the mechanic's jaw, a smile breaking out.

"Guess who found some White Chocolate Yummies laying around the shops in Byzantium?"

- @hcwthorne

Six bottles of semi-emulsified artificially-flavored lactose-infused dairy product. Three bottles of purpleberry wine. Two sacks of mock-apples. Four cases of engine parts. Taking inventory was a boring job but Holly did her best to remember that it was necessary. Hopefully, putting these labels down would mean CASINO would be able to handle incoming and outgoing stock going forward. She just had to set things up first and program him to do it.

The feeling of Artemis gently grabbing her from behind and pulling her close provided a break she hadn’t realized she needed. She leaned her head back against their shoulder, minding the new little nobs growing from her temples and letting out a soft, airy laugh when their lips trailed along her jaw. She reached back, caressing their cheek softly and offering a tender kiss along with her greeting. “Hey there, purrdy baby~ What’s the news?” They were so warm, and they smelled good. When she inhaled her ears flickered a bit in delight at the familiar comforting scent her partner brought her

“No kiddin’! Well, I do still have another sixteen crates to sort through ‘ere in cargo, but I reckon this is a special occasion. One that deserves a break, yeh?” She turned in their hold, rubbing her nose against their’s and giggling softly. “Those choccies aren’t gonna eat themselves y’know. And you lookin’ as fine as you do right now, they might not be the only thing gettin’ eatin’ all up either.~”

[alaenawrites]

Falling For You (part 5!)

Part 5 of Falling For You!

Read part 1 here, part 2 here, part 3 here, and part 4 here :)

Ooooh small cliffhanger whomst?! ;) 

P.S. I’ll be away this week with no wifi... do scheduled posts work offline? Please lmk! Enjoy :))

~~~

Remus had taken to sitting with some other Ravenclaws in his year to distract himself from the growing gap in his heart, stealing the air from his lungs and replacing it with empty wishes. It had been four days since he had last seen Sirius, five if you count the morning he had left Remus alone and cold in his bed, and Remus felt as though he was hanging off a cliff, only the rocks under his fingers turned to ash and crumbled every hour.

That morning had been very eventful at the Ravenclaw table. Theo kept sneaking salt into Luca’s drink, and Grace and Sophie were trying to convince Theo that his shoelaces had tied themselves together all on their own (Remus had watched them jinx Theo right after he had sat down, but he wasn’t going to say anything). Elise was busy trying to catch Luca’s eye, but he seemed distracted. 

“Toast?” Ezra held up the plate towards Remus, who shook his head and kept moving around the scrambled eggs on his plate. “Come on, mate, you have to eat. Take some toast.” Without waiting for a second response, Ezra put two pieces of toast on Remus’s plate and began buttering them.

“Ezra, I don’t-”

“Eat up! Yummy yummy,” Ezra said cheerfully. He pushed the plate towards Remus, who resignedly began picking at the toast.

All of a sudden, Luca stood up from the table so quickly that he hit his knee on the table. Not even stopping for an ouch, he quickly walked around the other end of the table and exited the Great Hall with a napkin still tucked into his shirt. 

Ezra raised an eyebrow. “Did he look a little…”

“Red?”

“Yeah.”

Remus nodded. “Do you know-”

“Not a clue.”

Marcus arrived at the table and plopped his bag on the ground, sitting with a confused look on his face. As he reached for the sausages, he looked around the table, confusion growing. “Where’s Luca?”

Remus and Ezra exchanged glances.

“You mean you didn’t see him just bang his knee and leave the table?”

Marcus’s eyes widened, mouth full of food. He shook his head.

“Huh,” Remus took a reluctant bite of toast with a joking glare at Ezra. “Mabme oo hood ack do im.”

Marcus looked at Ezra, who translated, “Maybe you should talk to him.” Marcus nodded slowly, eyes flicking between Remus and Ezra.

“Yeah,” Marcus swallowed, nodding almost to himself, “Yeah, maybe I should. Thanks guys.” He got up from the table, seemingly in a daze, and started towards the doors.

Remus looked at Ezra, tight lips barely containing a smile. “D’you reckon we should go bring him his bag?”

Ezra looked down, eyebrows raised in surprise. When he saw that Marcus had, in fact, left his bag on the ground, he laughed loudly and shook his head. “Nah, we’ll just give it to him in Charms.” He gestured towards Remus’s still mostly-full plate. “Eat, mate. Starving yourself won’t bring him back.”

~

After classes were over that day, Remus headed back to the Ravenclaw common room, passing Ezra, Theo, Sophie, and a couple other Ravenclaws he recognized from class.

“Hey, Re!”

“Ez.” Remus smiled, “Having a parade?”

“Without you? Never,” Theo teased.

Ezra laughed. “Nah. We’re going to the kitchens, fancy anything?”

Remus shook his head. It had been a long day and all he wanted was to curl up in bed with a book, and maybe to fall asleep thinking about Sirius’s arms around his waist and his lips on his forehead. 

“No, I’m alright.” 

“Right, well, try not to get too sad, yeah? Night, Re.”

“Night guys.” Remus grinned at his friends, calling over his shoulder as he walked away, “Don’t bother the house elves too much!”

When Remus got into his dorm, he found James already standing next to his bed, holding a piece of parchment. Walking over to James, Remus dropped his bag on the foot of his bed and leaned against the post.

“What’s up?” Remus tucked his hands into his robe pockets. James hardly came to visit in his dorm, so it must be something important, or private. Or both.

“Sirius wanted me to give you this, mate,” James said.

“Thanks.” Remus smiled weakly, watching James walk out of the dorm room, only looking back once with a worried look. He disappeared through the door. Remus just took the letter, assuming it was because Sirius was one of James’s dormmates and he knew they were friends. Remus was starting to wonder what was going on, though. He had seen James talking to Sirius in the hallways between classes, hushed voices preventing Remus from overhearing, before Sirius inevitably shrugged him off and continued to class.

Sirius looked miserable. For some reason, that made Remus feel even worse; Theo and Ezra had said it was good, because it meant he missed Remus, but he couldn’t find it in him to be happy knowing that this boy who he cared so much for wasn’t. 

Remus looked down at his hands, holding the neatly folded note. He wanted to rip it in half, but curiosity got the better of him. He ran a finger over the familiar slanted letters, not sure if the corkscrew in his chest was tightening or slowly unscrewing. Either way, it hurt like hell.

I can’t do this to you. Please understand. This has to be over. I’m sorry. It’s better this way. Sirius

Remus could still see where Sirius had scratched out the I miss you in the letter, and he wasn’t sure what was worse: the pain of knowing that Sirius still cared but wasn’t here, or believing that he didn’t. 

He put his head in his hands and felt the hot tears escape down his cheeks as his brain fogged over and sleep took control.

~

There was a soft knock at Remus’s door. He looked up from the sentence he was staring at, closed his book, and stood to open it. Before he was even fully out of bed, it was thrown open, a hand catching the knob just before it hit the wall. James. Remus sighed in relief, collapsing back onto his bed. James’s hair was messier than usual and the smudges under his eyes were a darker shade of purple. Remus suspected he looked the same, if not worse.

“Have you talked to him?” James sounded worried. Remus shook his head and buried his hands in his hair. Why would Sirius be talking to James and not him? 

“Have you?” 

James nodded, looking down at the floor, “Can I…” he trailed off, gesturing at Remus’s bed.

“Wh- Oh. Yeah, sit.” Remus moved over on the edge of his bed and turned to face James, tucking his legs up to his chest and folding his arms over his knees. 

James traced the eagles on Remus’s bedspread in silence, eyes red.

“So… you talked to Sirius?” Remus prompted. He ducked his head to look into James’s eyes. They were red, as if he’d been crying. What in the world is going on? James nodded again, not quite meeting Remus’s gaze.

“Yeah.” He stopped tracing the eagles and started twisting the sleeve of his robes between his hands. Remus was starting to get worried.

“Hey, hey, is everything okay?” James nodded again. “You can trust me, you know that right?”

James looked up. “Sirius and I… We’re…” Oh no. James took a deep breath. “Sirius Black is my brother.”

[veilbetweendreamsandreality]

Tangled Fairy Lights

A/N: This is my contribution to Day 23 of the @holidayblindspot Winter 2020 challenge. Jeller and Bethany find themselves snowed in and attempting to return to (a new) normal after the events in Iceland. Post series 4, AU. I haven't written fan fiction for a while, so apologies if this seems rusty. Please enjoy my last Blindspot fan fiction of 2019.

***

'We are putting a crown on springbok plushie. He can be one of the three wise men.' Bethany stated as she helped Jane pull out some little decorations from the overflowing cardboard box. The stuffed animal in question had been one of the little girl's belated birthday presents after Jane had resolved her conflict with Remi.

Jane pulled out a tangled ball of fairy lights. Lips pressed together. Damn it Kurt, you had one job. 'Does he have a crown?'

'Oh, not yet.' Bethany looked down at the plushie and set it down on the couch. Pine needles scattered across the floor as she dug around the box for her favourite set of snowman decorations dressed in different winter attire. One in a bobble hat and mittens, another wore a ski mask with skis on the bottom; the third was in "classic" snowman attire with a top hat and scarf. 'Yay, they're here.'

The three snowmen sat on the coffee table as Jane and Bethany worked to find the end of the fairy lights. Inside Jane chuckled. Bethany's little tomgue poked out in concentration, like father like daughter. With both ends located, the pair turned their attention to the mess in the middle.

Snow battered the door to terrace and blanketed the outside in a fresh layer. A white Christmas in both New York and Colorado was the perfect weather for the pair get into the holiday spirit.

'Did you send your letter to Santa sweetheart?'

Bethany nodded. 'Mommy helped me post it the day after Thanksgiving, so it reaches the North Pole in time.' She beamed, tugging at a knot. Eyebrows knitted in frustration.

'Have you made the Nice list?' Jane teased as her stepdaughter huffed and yanked at knot, only tightening it. Another yank, another tightened knot. 'Here, let me help. Try and push it, as though you are undoing laces from the middle of the shoe. Gentle.' Bethany scooted into Jane's lap as they worked on easing a knot together, 'See?'

'Now, this should be your daddy's job, so we are going to leave the lights and go through the box of decorations and decide what we want on the tree this year.'

Bethany shuffled off Jane and looked into the box.

'Is Mister Weitz still being a meanie?'

'He's taken a step back for now, but will always be a Scrooge.' Jane replied, lifting out paper angels Bethany had made the year prior back in their apartment, as Allie watched over. 'These angels are going up.' She carefully placed them on the coffee table.

'What's a Scrooge?'

'Ebenezer Scrooge is a character in A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens. He's a bitter man with a cold heart. Hey I tell you what. There is a Muppets from Sesame Street version. We can watch that later if you want?' Jane helped her pull a bauble off the tangle of fairy lights.

Bethany grinned and nodded. 'Kermy! Froggy.'

The pair giggled as Jane scrunched up her face in an attempt to mimic the famous frog's "anger" face. The girl collapsed on the carpet in a fit of giggles.

Laughter rang out as the latch of the front door, opened with a soft click. 'Daddy!' Bethany rushed headlong into her dad's legs; Kurt chuckled. 'Hey Bee.' He held his arms out as he juggled with the bags of groceries. Arms stuck out, as his fingers attempted to navigate inside the thick red and blue snowflake pattern mittens Jane had bought him as a stocking filler the previous year.

Kurt set the shopping down on the kitchen counter. 'Did you girls start without me?' Scooped up in his arms, 'Yep. We did. Should my springbok be a wise man?' Bethany put a thumb in her mouth in thought. 'If you want Bethany, he can be a wise man.'

She paused, 'You look like a melting snowman Daddy.' Kurt looked down at his winter jacket, the melting snow dripping off the sleeves and fluffy scarf. He pushed his hood back to remove the woolly hat, a matching set to go with the mittens. 'Huh, I guess I do.' He grinned, his nose numb from being outside for a lengthy period of time.

Weller looked at the floor from the dropping pine needles to the tangle of fairy lights. 'Was I supposed to-?' 'Yes you were,' Jane cut her husband off; hands on her hips. Accompanied by a smirk. 'I'll sort out the shopping.' His expression sheepish, careful to reposition Bethany in his arms.

'Then myself and Bethany are going to making cookies, and watching the Muppet version of Scrooge.' She stole a quick peck on the cheek, before pulling out a handful of carrots of the bags - into the bottom draw of the fridge.

'Are you don't to help me with the lights sweetie?'

The girl shook her head. 'No. I help Mamma Jane with food.' She folded her arms.

Jane chuckled, reaching for the dairy free butter from the hessian bag. 'You can grab the rolling pin before untangling the lights.'

Kurt scowled and grabbed the rolling pin from a high cupboard. He sat his daughter on the counter and strained as it rolled to the back of the cupboard. Only Rich would put it up here. Perhaps I stood consider changing the locks; again. With a grunt Weller grabbed the pin and handed it to Jane.

'Thank you dear.' Jane replied, placing it next to the bag of flour. Bethany watched from the counter as her stepmother put the groceries away, passing items from the bags.

The warmth of the heating hit him as he untucked his scarf and shrugged off his white - now grey from the damp - coat. The scent of cinnamon tickled at his nose as Jane buisied herself in the kitchen. Cosy, warmth, home.

Kurt knelt on the floor and pulled at the fairy lights. The knot tightened. He picked up another section and poked at it, his picky looped through and wiggled it until the tangle loosened. One down, numerous more to go. Tongue poked out, he threaded through the knots and teased a handful more out.

Jane placed two mixing bowls on the counter, and turned to the counter's occupant. 'Ready to make cookies sweetheart?' She settled Bethany onto a chair. She nodded and pushed the ingredients to make aquafaba towards her stepmother.

In the middle of mixing Jane and Bethany looked up to watch Kurt wrestle with the fairy lights, muttering under his breath as he ended up with an ankle caught in a loop. The man grumbled as wriggling his foot only made the situation worse. The pair suppressed laughter as Weller toppled over onto the rest of the lights.

'Thanks for the support girls.' Kurt stated, sarcastic in his tone; and held up a thumb. He groaned and gingerly sat up.

'You can diffuse a bomb, but you can't untangle fairy lights?' Jane asked rhetorically.

Bethany leant over to grab the dough. 'Now we roll it out.' Jane nodded, 'Do you want to choose the cutter you want?'

'Snowman!' The little girl pulled it towards her, beaming.

'Very apt.' Jane placed flour onto a board and dropped the dough, pin in hand. She started to roll it flat, Bethany's hands on top of hers. Once the dough was flat enough the pair pressed the cutters into the dough.

Once the cookies were cut and prepared, Jane placed them into the oven. Bethany hopped off the chair and sat next to Kurt. 'Are you okay Daddy?' She played with a handful of pine needles and watched the white outside.

'I think I'm almost there. I just hope the electric doesn't go out. Did you send your list in time?'

Bethany nodded. 'Did you send yours in time Daddy?' Kurt nodded, as he continued with undoing the knots.

The pair looked up as the front door rattled. Rich poked his head around the door, a familiar voice followed the hacker. 'Knocking is the polite thing to do Rich.'

'PATTERSON!' Bethany squealed running towards the door. Rich opened the door fully as the child collided with the blonde.

'Hello Bee.' Patterson crouched down and let her squeeze.

Rich entered the apartment and watched as Jane placed the rack onto the counter. 'Oh yummy.' He reached out to grab one.

'No!' Bethany squeaked. 'They need to cool and decoration before eating.' Rich stopped mid-air and blinked. He looked at the hot cookies at Bethany and back to the cookies. Dotcom lowered his arm.

Jane laughed as Rich let his arms hang loose. 'You can decorate a cookie if you like. But Bethany is right. Let them cool first.'

'Would you two like coffee?'

Patterson sat on the couch and picked up the springbok. 'Thank you Jane. Tasha texted, her and Edgar are on their way - the snow storm is turning into a blizzard. Reade is finally on crutches and out of the wheelchair, however the doctors reckon he will never be able to walk properly again. They are keeping tabs on his spine, but we're hoping it's his legs themselves that are affected. Field work won't be an option until at least the summer.' She sighed, 'It's the holidays and yet I cannot turn off from work.'

Rich looked Weller up and down. 'At least I'm getting some entertainment since being in that blacksite.' Kurt had managed to get a wrist, and the other ankle tied up in the fairy lights.

'Seriously?' Kurt groaned. 'Help me, or leave me alone Rich.' He twisted the wrist.

'Now now munchkin, no need to be a bah humbug at Christmas.' He grinned and undid the knots with a simple tug.

Weller shuffled away from the lights and sat on the couch, feigned exhaustion.

'Lights are supposed to be on the tree, not the floor.' Rich cooed, nudging Weller so he could sit on the couch.

Kurt grunted as Bethany climbed onto him. 'Hey sweetheart.' The girl poked her dad. 'Do you want to decorate a cookie?'

'Sure. Why not.' Weller grinned and stood up, Bethany in his arms.

Jane placed the cookies on a tray and put the icing next to the tray.

'I call dibs on the Santa.' Rich piped up. Bethany sat on a seat, grabbing the white icing for the snowman. 'Which one do you want Patterson?'

Patterson looked over the shapes. 'I'll take the reindeer. Which leaves the holly, star, angel and elf.'

'It's only fair we let Tasha and Reade choose when they arrive.' Jane stated, and turned the oven down. The coffee pot had almost finished when a bang on the door, coaxed the room into hushed tones.

Jane glanced through the peephole, Reade smiled. 'Morning Jane,' the Assistant Director put his crutch down.

The door opened and the snow covered pair hobbled in. 'Hey Reade, Tasha.'

'We come bearing gifts.' Tasha looped an arm around Reade as she placed the presents on the coffee table.

Jane poured out the coffees. 'Tea, Reade?'

'Please. You've been baking. They smell delicious.' Edgar grinned, hobbling towards the counter.

'Whoa!' Tasha exclaimed, the outside world was now opaque white. 'Looks like we'll be here for a while.'

Bethany craned her neck. 'Decorate a cookie?' Edgar nodded, 'Can I decorate the elf?' The little girl smiled and nudged the elf cookie towards him. He grabbed the green icing and traced the shoulders.

Tasha joined in and decorated the angel in blue.

Kurt laughed, 'Look at us. Family together, home and safe. Finally.' He hummed as the others decorated around him. Careful he added icing to the cookie Star of Bethlehem. 'Merry Christmas everyone.'

[alwaysspeakshermind]

A-Z of Favorite Fictional Ladies B is for: Buffy Summers

As a rule, I endure rather than enjoy nine out of ten fictional female protagonists, and it’s incredibly frustrating. But it’s also something I’ve kind of come to accept.With all the different types of women out there in the world, nine out of ten fictional female protagonists will still wind up being one of the same two types of characters: the oft-overlooked Good Girl™ who’s sweet/accommodating/a little shy-but-also-feisty, or the Rebel/Intellectual/Tomboy who is Not Like Other Girls and scorns pink but turns out to be movie-star gorgeous when a friend who knows all things girly forces her to dress up and turn heads. (Basically, Mary Sue or Scary Sue.) By the time I was eight, I had sort of figured out that my favorite female characters, the ones I actually related to and who inspired me, were not liked/admired by 90% of the other girls around me, because basically none of them had problems learning when to speak up—they all had problems learning when to shut up.

When I first began watching Buffy, I figured it would be the same old story: I’d sigh at the protagonist, love one of the secondary characters best, and at most, get a few laughs out of the whole thing. At that point, I was already in college and frankly, I was pretty sure any show as hyped as this one would have a protagonist I would hate.

But! 

Then I met Buffy.

And Buffy is just…Buffy.

Why she’s my girl:

She spends her evenings roaming graveyards and fighting vampires, but fashionably. She quips non-stop and has a tight-knit group of friends, but is a lonely little soul. She saves the world (a lot) but mostly just wants to be left alone to live her life in peace, and to quote someone formerly dangerous and currently annoying, she has bleedin’ tragic taste in men (Je stink).

From the beginning of the series to its end, the Buffster is a protagonist who flirts with the thin line of likeability. While she is a protagonist who is easy to root for, she is also one who makes many, many mistakes that frequently come back to bite her (pun only semi-intended). I personally don’t 100% relate to her until about S5 and then it starts getting uncomfortable how much I relate to her, but her actions in response to dicey situations command my respect at all times.

For all her cute blondeness and ever-present wisecracking, Buffy’s tough. Diamond-tough, really, and unapologetic; she’s simultaneously an unabashed girly-girl and a kickass bitchy-bitch, and she will do whatever it takes to get the job done. Responsibility isn’t a thing she seeks yet somehow, it always seems to find her, and even when she wants to run away and let someone else deal with it for a change, she ends up staying and battling. She’s a peppy cheerleader turned college dropout turned person who would rather work construction over retail (but winds up in fast-food) turned high-school guidance counselor, and she’s forever wistfully eyeing the normal lives of those she protects. But ultimately, her calling is Slayer, and the “dumb” blonde Valley girl who resents messing up her manicure punching vampires and paying too much for cream rinses that are neither creamy nor rinse-y is a powerful force to be reckoned with.

She is, sadly, still only one of a small number of female characters who highlight that liking pink and caring about clothes and wanting a date do not equal weakness, and I will always love her for that—as someone who loves boxing/self-defense/general punching things but also shopping and cute outfits, Buffy makes me feel very seen. She doesn’t apologize for liking miniskirts and heels, but she doesn’t exclusively wear miniskirts and heels…she’s practical enough to wear clothes that can survive slaying (halter tops, for instance). She’s funny, bright, impatient, and stubborn, and she’s loyal to a fault. She talks a lot but isn’t great with words. She puns obsessively, often at inappropriate times. She holds grudges and isn’t the greatest student, but she continually fights to protect those who can’t protect themselves, and when she’s quite literally dragged from her rest, she still tries to pick up the shambles of her life and keep going—without telling any of the responsible parties how it’s affected her. I mean, the part where she has to ahem, claw her way out of something her own self-sacrifice put her in in the first place? THE STRENGTH THAT REQUIRES IS NOT JUST PHYSICAL, and I still get a little angry at the Scoobies for that one.

She’s considered kind of dumb even by those closest to her, yet they constantly look to her for leadership when things go south. She deals with (don’t even get me started because I could happily smack all of them) the Potentials, and does what she can to prepare and comfort the younger girls for the death and destruction most likely coming their way. She defies senseless, heavy-handed authority that attempts to impose rules and traditions on her and those she cares about, and when she loves, she loves deeply.

She is, in essence, powerful but enormously flawed—and anyone who considers that a negative thing in feministic representation is egregiously myth-taken.

Favorite Quotes:

WAY-hay-hay too many to count, but some especially meaningful faves off the top of my head are:

“I may be dead...but I’m still pretty.”

“Hi, honey. I’m home.”

“The whole earth may be sucked into Hell, and you want my help ‘cause your girlfriend’s a big ho? Well, let me take this opportunity to not care.”

[“No weapons. No friends. No hope. Take all that away, and what’s left?”] “Me.”

[“You’re really campaigning for Bitch of the Year, aren’t you?”] “As defending champion, you nervous?”

“Bite me.”

“She irons her jeans. She’s evil. She has to be destroyed!”

“So you haven’t murdered anybody lately? Let’s be best pals!”

“That probably would have sounded more commanding if I wasn’t wearing my Yummy Sushi pajamas.”

“Conversation’s over, hell-bitch.”

“The hardest thing to do in this world is live in it.”

“I think I know why Joan’s the boss—I’m like a superhero or something!” 

“Goodnight, bitch.”

“No guy is worth your life. Not ever.”

[spongeguyandlelouchvibridankia]

Amphibia Christmas Gift

@kaminos-hangout-corner

Snow.

 It had been 1 whole year (sort of, she was still trying to understand just how much time had passed) since she had gone to Amphibia .

 Since she had made her first real friend.

 Since she found a family.

 And…

 Anne Boonchuy, decked out in a frog themed Christmas sweater, tapping her foot nervously, was unsure if the first person she should come out to was her beloved and endearingly over protective Hop Poppy.

 But considering her… Let’s say it nicely, shit parents, it seemed like he was really the only choice.

 Sighing, she glanced out the window again.

 Snow had once been a danger, due to its once a year appearance in Amphibia. Snow forced the frogs into hibernation and near death (thank GOODNESS for interior heating!).

 Anne had protected them from it once. And while it was touch and go (the small business of Polly nearly dying), she had succeeded!

 In fact, Anne Boonchuy was very different from the girl she was when she first stumbled onto the magical other dimension.

 What once was selfish was now thoughtful.

 What once was subservient was now independent.

 What once was impulsive was… Well, actually, that sort of stayed.

 And what was once straight as a rail in her mind was so gay it made Elsa look straight!

 So why was it so hard to tell him about this?

 “…Anne, you’ve been sitting there for about 5 minutes narrating. Just tell me the problem so I can return to making angsty AMV’s of “Suspicion Island”!”

 Anne couldn’t help but chuckle at that statement, and at the frog who sat before her.

 His thin grey tufts of hair were now covered with a Santa hat (whom he was still wary of. “Breaking and entering is nothing to be proud of, unless of course you’re doing it to Monroe”), his cane was colored like a candy cane (Anne could have sworn she heard a drum snare from Marcy’s room) and his sweater was appropriately ugly, asking people to “honk if you’ve adopted a bby recently”.

 For a once so rigid and traditional frog, Hop Pop Plantar had truly given his best efforts to the transition to the human world.

 In fact, as Anne shuffled her feet and sighed, he had done more than anyone would have expected.

 After a disastrous dinner revealed that Anne’s parents were… Shit, Hop Pop had gone on a 8 hour long rant, dissing them so inappropriately that Polly hadn’t needed Anne to learn all the swear words in existence.

 If it wasn’t for Sprig ripping the chained pen off because it looked “Yummy”, Anne would have been adopted way faster.

 It was flashbacks like these that made Anne wonder how could she possibly think he wouldn’t accept her.

 After all they’ve been through, Hop Pop truly loved her.

 Which meant…

 Anne took a deep breath and stood up, deciding to face it head on.

 “I’ve got a bit of a… Hard confession to make.”

 Anne then smiled softly as Hop Pop seemed to take on a knowing look.

 “But I know that you’ll accept me for who I am, and I shouldn’t be afraid.”

 “Oh, you should! Grime has been walking around the house decking anyone who plays “Frosty The Snowman”. Says that little bastard “should have melted the moment he knew about thermomaters, even though he really shouldn’t know”.”

 Anne giggled and Hop Pop smiled warmly. “But seriously, Anne… You can tell me anything.”

 Anne beamed at this and Hop Pop remembered why he was still alive as she began to explain.

 “Well… You see, Hop Pop, ol’ buddy ol’ pal… Have you ever felt like you want to kiss someone, but society thinks it’s wrong?”

 “Why, all the time! I keep telling them that Cacti are softer than they seem but no one listens!”, Hop Pop said, removing a cactus and kissing it.

 “Oh wait, never mind. My tongue wants to die now.”

 Anne shook her head, laughing. “No, dummy! I mean… Say there’s 2 someone’s you like…”

 Anne’s mouth suddenly got very dry. She wasn’t sure she could do this.

 Even if Hop Pop was open… Who was to say that Sasha “GOD THAT SCAR MAKES HER HOTTER” Prince and Marcy “HOW CAN SOMEONE SO SARCASTIC BE SO MOE” Drosselmeyer would be interested in something so… Bizarre?

 Anne was starting to panic again. She wasn’t some badass warrior or hilarious kawaii girl (well, she was, but she doesn’t listen to me).

 She was just Anne “I can make  a decent omlette” Boonchouy.

 Sure, she helped destroy an ancient monster and she helped make peace between frogs and toads, but anyone could have done that!

 Why would Sasha and Marcy want… Her?

 Nerves at their limits, Anne decided to go for a distraction.

 “HEY HOP POP!”, she suddenly called out, mad look in her eyes. “WANNA FIND OUT HOW MANY JELLYFISH I CAN JUGGLE?”

 As she began to juggle and yelp from the pain, Hop Pop tried to stop her with logic. “ANNE! Only Polly can do that!”

 Meanwhile…

 “I don’t understand this stupid human holiday! First we watch some ridiculous children’s cartoons, then we take a tree and force it to get dressed, and now you’re telling me that you need to make some sort of “like, earth shattering” confession? I thought this “Christmas” was fun!”

 Formerly Captain now Dad Grime was very confused by the day he had been through. He’d had to endure many odd customs, and outside of drinking dangerous amounts of Egg Nog (what was IN that stuff?!), he had not seen any reason to be jolly or merry.

 Why, he hadn’t had a chance to be senselessly violent in hours!

 And now his beloved daughter Sasha had some sort of confession to make.

 “Great. Now I get to know where all my strawberry lip gloss has been going.”, he grumbled as Sasha stood next to a screen.

 Clearing her throat, the former soldier seemed less confident than usual.

 Giant anime sweat bead, feet shuffling cards, shaking more than the jell-o he DEFINITELY didn’t steal for himself…

 She was hiding something.

 He could feel it.

 That, and she had said “I’ve been hiding something” just 38 seconds ago, so…

 SCORE!

 “Get on with it, Sasha!”, Grime ordered, impatient. “I’ve got other things to do, like go back and complain about having to do all these things!”

 Sasha laughed nervously and picked up a remote. “Well, Grimesy, in order to properly explain my confession, I have arranged a powerpoint presentation…”

 Even on Amphibia, people knew that powerpoint was sad.

 Grime moaned and leaned into his hand, depressed. This was going to be worse than the time he almost died.

 “Just finish with it, before the alcohol receads and I get enough sense to leave the room.”

 Sasha gulped again, very nervous of her frog father’s reaction. While he too adopted her from terrible parents, he was less affectionate, more of a fun dad who took you to bear baiting matches and taught you how to survive torture.

 You know, fun things all children should know!

 The emotional stuff? He was less qualified.

 Why, once she told him she was feeling sad and he said to just beat it senseless until it stopped working.

 And when she had homework she couldn’t figure out, he actually spared with the words.

 And when she was having a period…

 Well, the less said about the “boxing match with god” the better.

 So, this was going to be a piece of fucking cake, right?

 Sasha continued to hyperventilate as Grime read the title, which was accompanied with an audio book version read by Samuel L. Jackson.

 “Shit, I CAN Haz Girlfriends?: The Day I Never Stopped Worrying And Learned That Women Are Hotter Than Men!”

 Sasha face palmed. “I REALLY need to get a better editor.”

 “Come on, Darling! That title is marvelous and so much better than “AAAAAAAAAAAAA HOW DO I EXPLAIN THAT ME AM GAY?!”, Sprig, with spectacles, turned around and commented.

 Meanwhile…

 “So I’m gay for Sasha and Anne and I want to date both of them. Is that weird?”, Marcy asked, while playing a snare drum for Anne’s unintentional candy cane pun.

 “Oh, it’s totally normal! Give them a whirl, girl!”, Valerina said, not phased for a moment.

 “Great! Can we T-Pose now and headbang to “Megalovania”?”, Marcy asked, setting up her boom box.

 “That’s why I adopted you!”

 Marcy and Valerina then started to aggressively T-Pose and headbang.

 “I hope this conversation is easy for Anne and Sasha, who clearly have the hots for me!”, Marcy said as she danced.

    “Anne, I can’t believe that of all things, you were hurt by tripping on a box of wiener dogs!”

 Hop Pop was applying another Hello Kitty band aid as Anne sighed morosely.

 “I’m sorry, Hop Pop! I just… I… I’m very nervous!”

 Hop Pop sighed affectionately and patted his girl’s back. “Anne, my darling… I’d NEVER judge you. And even if I did, I would be in the wrong for that.”

 Hop Pop smiled as he made a promise with his eyes. “Whatever you have to say is who you are. If your friends or your family can’t accept that, then, well, they’re pretty darn lousy at their jobs, I reckon!”

 Anne shed a tear while smiling, her real father as ever making her feel valid. Real.

 Once she was so afraid of expressing her true self.

 Now, she felt like she could sing it out loud.

 Not that she would; Musical theatre was a pale imitation of vaudeville, according to Hop Pop.

 Taking a deep breath, Anne confessed her secret.

 “Hop Pop… I tried to understand this for a while, and for a while I wasn’t sure if it was true, but…”

 “I know that you have the crushy crush on Sasha at least, that’s for sure.”, Hop Pop commented, scratching his chin.

 Anne’s eyes were now very buggy. “HOW IN TARNATION DO YOU KNOW THAT?”

 Hop Pop was too busy thinking something else. “I’ve never said tarnation, where’d you pick that up?”

 “Doesn’t matter! How do you know that I like Sasha?”, Anne asked in disbelief. What had given her away?

 “Anne, you’d need to be blind not to know! Also, you once forced me to marry you and your Sasha cardboard cutout in a lavish ceremony.”

 Anne blushed wildly. “I do crazy things when I drink too much cocoa…”

 Hop Pop chuckled warmly and observed Anne with sparkling eyes. “Well? I assume there’s a part 2…”

 Anne laughed as well and admitted that “Marcy’s pretty fine too!”

 Anne then got shy again. “I know that it’s customary to only like one person, but I really li…Lo…”

 Anne swallowed her spit and resolved herself.

 “I REALLY love both of them.”

 Anne sighed again. “I know it’s weird, but it’s who I am.”

 She looked up, scared again. “Do you… Do you see me any different?”

 There are moments in life where one has to prove to one’s kids just how much he/she loves them.

 In that moment, Hop Pop aced so hard no one would ever get close.

 “Do you know what I see, Anne?”, he asked, and as she shook her head, he sat next to her.

 “What I see is a beautiful, smart, strong, brave, independent young woman with a kind heart and a lovely soul.”

 He continued. “I see an amazing friend and an incredible daughter.”

 He nearly choked up for a moment. “I see someone who has grown so much, but hasn’t lost that innate goodness that was there from day 1.”

 He then embraced her. “You know what I see?”

 He whispered. “I see someone I am PROUD to call my daughter.”

 He retracted from the hug to wipe away her tears. “And if these two girls make you happy, then, well, I see no problem in you getting together with them.”

 Anne, who was feeling all the feels, gripped her Hop Poppy and said “Oh THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!”

 “Of course, Anne. Of course.”

 Anne hiccupped for a moment and softly smiled. “I… I… Thank you for letting me be me.”

 She kissed his forehead and as she ran off, she called out “Love you, Dad!”

 Hop Pop shook his head softly as she left. “Kids…”

     Meanwhile meanwhile (revenge of the meanwhile)…

 “And that’s is why I want to kiss two girls under the mistletoe today, so you better understand, motherfucker, before I stick my hand up your ass and make it talk like a puppet to give me validity!”

 As the powerpoint finally skidded to a halt, Sasha wished that she could erase all the bar graphs and pie charts on how “lit” lesbian OT3’s were.

 In fact, Sasha had cringed really hard for the entire presentation, and as she finally opened her eyes and laid them on a very quiet Grime, who had uncharacteristically said nothing the entire time.

 Sasha was getting REALLY nervous now. What was going to happen?

 Would Grime get angry? Would he fire her from being his daughter?

 Would…

 Would he hate her?

 Sasha already knew that Grime wasn’t exactly the softest and most understanding person in the world.

 So what would he be like with this?

 Tentatively, her fingers shaking, Sasha asked a cautious question.

 “Well… What do you think, Grimesy?”

 Grime scratched his chin in thought, before turning to Sasha with an odd expression.

 “Let me see if I understand: You love that Anne girl, and that Marcy girl?”

 Sasha nodded, depressed.

 Grime chose his words carefully. “All right… If I may ask…”

 He tilted his head. “Why are you asking me if it’s ok?”

 Sasha blinked, surprised. “I… Uh… Huh?”

 Grime cleared his throat, hoping to make himself clear to Sasha. “I may not understand human customs, but I don’t think that loving someone is wrong, at least, under certain conditions.”

 He attempted a soft smile as he grabbed hold of her hand. “The way I see it, if it’s not illegal, it’s ok. And, well… I may seem like a real grouch, but when it comes to you, all I need is a smile, soldier, and I’m in approval.”

 Sasha never liked showing such strong emotions, least of all next to Grime, but she couldn’t help but squeeze him once he finished.

 “Ok, ok…”, he said, but his enjoyment of the hug was obvious.

 Patting her back, he saluted her. “Report me of your success once the conquest is over!”

 She saluted back, grinning. “Aye-Aye, Dad!”

 None noticed that that was the first time Sasha had called him dad, but Grime would later feel his heart grow 3 sizes once he realized what she had said.

        Later that evening, Anne, Sasha and Marcy found themselves underneath the mistletoe, all a little confused and VERY flustered.

 “So… We all had the same idea and crushes?”, Sasha asked, very embarrassed. Pink was not a color frequently seen on her cheeks, but today it was dominant.

 “I guess so.”, Anne said, feeling very shy. Was all her worrying really for nothing?

 “Cool cool cool cool. When do I get to be gay?”, Marcy asked, wearing a rainbow hoodie over a shirt that said “Go to the YMCA? I AM THE YMCA!” and shoes that played “Girls Like Girls” by Hayley Kiyoko.

 Anne, Sasha and Marcy all looked at each other, and realized that sometimes, all the worrying really IS for nothing.

 Here they all were, very much in love with each other and willing to take the next step.

 So…

 Why not just do it?

 For Anne Boonchuy, Christmas had once been most magical when she opened her presents under the tree.

 But this year, it was when she kissed her two girlfriends at the same time.

     Finishing the story, SpongeGuy looked at his words and hoped they were enough.

 As ever, the lesson he tried to impart had a harder time reaching him.

 The words stood on the screen, daunting.

 Teasing.

 Were they enough for such an angel?

 Were they enough for such a blessing?

 Stepping into the room, SpongeGuy could see his sister/brother/BroSis Kamino sleep peacefully in a bed. An adorable beanie sat on the cute short hair cut and her eyes, despite being closed, sparkled with wonder, that made him want to be so excited.

 Hands shook as he clutched the manuscript and wondered again: Was it good enough?

 She had given him so much in so little time.

 Had he deserved any of it?

 Could he ever justify his existence?

 Floating in from another room was a frequent visitor.

 Cold hands sent a shiver down SpongeGuy’s spine and he didn’t need to turn to know it was the reaper.

 “You seem awfully ready to go. I haven’t sensed such resignation in a while from you.”

 SpongeGuy tried to say something but the words stuck in his throat.

 “…You haven’t even come close to succeeding in your mission. Are you ready to call it quits? It’s not like you ever deserved to succeed.”

 But SpongeGuy shakes his head. “Maybe I don’t deserve it…”

 He put down the manuscript next to Kamino’s head.

 “But they do. Every single one of them needs a hero.”

 SpongeGuy turns defiantly. “If it means fighting for years without a smile, then I will do so.”

 “…What makes you so sure that you’ll ever be happy?”

 SpongeGuy turns and sees a miracle in front of him.

 “…Just a hunch.”