#fun fact yellow roses stand for friendship so i think that is cool :) but it was kinda a pain to draw so :(

[dawnleaf37]

hello tumblr user evbobev have you by any chance seen obs

[dammit-stark]

Ooo ooo, an au i loooove is flower shop au! Where one character runs a flower shop and flowers with symbolic meanings are used- ugh the fluff/flirting potential 🥰🥰

fun fact: i’ve somehow managed to never write a flower shop au before this??? which is absurd bc it’s a friken classic so this was super fun I really enjoyed this hehe

SEND ME YOUR FAV AU AND ILL WRITE YOU A DRABBLE :)

...

He knows that it’s Pepper’s birthday. He knows because she told him a week ago, pointedly inserted it into all of his various calendars, threatened him with violence and selfish resignation as his assistance. He knows it’s her birthday.

Still, the morning of when JARVIS alerts him that he forgot to get Pepper a present, it catches Tony by surprise.

“Fuck,” He says, rubbing his face as he sits up in bed, “JARVIS, what am I supposed to get her?”

“I’m afraid you did not program me to be able to advise on gift giving, sir,” JARVIS replies, and Tony, his infernal creator, knows it’s said with joyful malice, “But if I may suggest something. Miss Potts has expressed an appreciation for fresh flowers in the past. Sir.”

Tony sighs, pulling on the nearest pair of pants, “You’re a life saver, JARVIS. Send Pep a happy birthday message, will you?”

“Very well, sir.”

“I’m gonna get some flowers. Don’t tell her I forgot.”

“Yes, sir.”

Tony grabs his keys and opens the front door, stopping with one foot over the invisible jamb, “And stop mouthing me, JARVIS. You might sound polite, but I programmed you, I know when you’re sassing me.”

JARVIS is tellingly silent. Tony closes the door behind himself.

So, flowers. Flowers. How hard can flowers be? He passes four flower stands on his way to the burger joint he likes a block from the tower, and he’s positive there’s a quaint little shop the next block over. Surely, he can figure this out.

Except when Tony gets to the shop, a pink and blue awning hanging over him like an insufferably ironic storm cloud, he’s at a complete loss.

Would she like pink or blue? Roses or carnations? Tulips? Lilies? Daisies? Something yellow? Maybe something orange like her hair? Would she be offended by that? Probably. Isn’t there a green thing she likes? Surely, she’s mentioned it before. It’s gotta be somewhere in the recesses of Tony’s unfocused brain, somewhere.

He’s standing at a loss in front of a vibrant display that looks distinctly like the photoshop color picker exploded.

“Excuse me, sir. Can I help you with something, sir?”

“Don’t call me sir.”

“Sorry?”

“I get enough of that from my robots, I don’t need it from- attractive flower salesman. Hi. Tony Stark. Nice to meet you.”

Aforementioned flower salesman blinks, and Tony notes with satisfaction the dee blush high on his cheeks.

“Uh, can I help you find something?”

In a moment, Tony’s moving again, hands fluttering, mind whirring, mouth working without the rest of his body’s knowledge, about as per usual. He picks up a colorful bouquet of various wild flowers, smells it, and puts back with a scrunched nose, “I need a birthday present for my assistant. Something that says ‘Thank you for being in my life. No I didn’t forget your birthday, see. Love you’.”

The salesman looks at his shoes when he talks, nodding, “Well we have a variety of flowers that can express love or lust. A mauve carnation, for example. Or coriander is a lovely way to express the same sentiment. Red roses obviously mean love, and calla lilies symbolize beauty. We can assemble you a beautiful bouquet with these if you would like.”

Tony scrunches his nose like he smelled another disagreeing flower fragrance, “I don’t think you understand. I was thinking of something a little more.. platonic. More gratitude and friendship than sex and love.”

Steve’s head shoots up from the spot on the floor that he had been all but staring a hole through, and his eyes are wide, “Really?”

“Oh, yeah. We don’t really bat for the same teams, if you know what I’m saying.”

The blush returns to Steve’s face, but there’s an excited, hopeful glint in his eyes. And when he speaks, the words come out faster, rushers “Daffodils and peach roses then,” He says with confidence, “Appreciation. Yellow roses, too, maybe. For friendship.

Oh! And we can’t forget about alstroemeria! Better known as Lily of the Incas, they’re beautiful flowers that are most popular in bouquets for platonic love and friendship. What do you think?”

Tony smiles, and Steve’s breath audibly hitches, it’d almost be funny if Tony wasn’t so wooed by all the flower talk, “That sounds great. I’ll take all of it in one big, gorgeous bouquet.”

Steve moves behind the counter, “It’s gonna be pricy.”

Tony’s responding grin is knowing and cool, and his eyes squint minutely at the corners with this joyfulness, “Don’t worry. I can cover it. How fast can you get it done? Can we make this happen today? I know it’s last minute, but this’ll really save my butt.”

Steve reads down the long list of invoice orders ahead of him. He looks up to tell Tony that it’s impossible and- “Give me two hours.”

Apparently his heart (and eyes, and dick) put Tony at the top of the list. Tony has no idea, just smiles cheerfully, and nods, pulling out a shiny black credit card from his back pocket. Steve had always thought the black card thing had been a myth, an urban legend made up by money-grubbing banks and capitalists, but when he slides the card through the machine, it doesn’t bounce.

“Alright,” Steve says as he hands the card back, “I’ll see you in two hours.”

When Tony opens the front door to leave, he wiggles his fingers in a funny goodbye and disappears back into the New York streets. He’s starting to be glad he forgot Pepper’s birthday in the first place, even if she potentially hates him forever for dropping the ball.

Two hours later, Tony returns, and the bell on the green painted door to the quaint shop rings as he enters. Steve is nowhere to be found. A grumpy-looking, long-haired curmudgeon mans the counter instead.

“Hi, I’m here to pick up an order for Stark,” Tony says with a charming smile, one hand coming down to slap the blue painted countertop.

The florist, his name tag reading BUCKY :) in big, ironic letters turns around still frowning, and roots around for Tony’s bouquet. When he turns around, he’s holding two bouquets. He sets them both on the counter. Tony stares at them.

“I’m sorry,” He says, pointing at the redder one of the two, “I only ordered one.”

Bucky points with malice at the unfamiliar bouquet, “Yeah, I know. Apparently this one’s on the house. It’s from Stevie.”

“Stevie, huh?” Tony quips, the corners of his lips turning into a smile.

“Steve, yeah.”

“Tell Steve to call me then. So I can thank him.”

Bucky shakes his head, looking boring and maybe even irritated. He points at the on-the-house arrangement, “His number’s on the card.”

Tony smiles and scoops both bouquets up into his arms.

“You guys really have great service,” Tony jeers, and Bucky continues looking unamused and uninterested, “Thanks, Bucky!”

When Tony gives Pepper her gift, she’s duly impressed by the thoughtful layers to it. Tony proudly tells her what all the flowers mean.

She watches him dubiously from over top the crest of flowers, “So who told you what to get me? Who do I really have to thank?”

Tony shakes his head and refuses to think about JARVIS or Steve (just in case Pepper secretly has mind reading abilities, you can never be too safe), “I did it all by myself, Pep. Come on, give me some credit.”

She still looks suspicious, her nose in a lily, but eventually she nods, “Yeah, sure. You pass. Even if you didn’t think it up yourself, there was obviously some forethought since you can’t just go out and get a custom bouquet the same day. Good job, Tony. You’ve set the bar for next year.”

Tony groans.

It’s quarter to eleven, and Tony’s been staring his own bouquet, carefully placed in a genuine crystal vase on his kitchen counter, for almost an hour now. He finally gets up the nerve to google the symbolism surrounding the flowers and-

They’re all variations on lust or pining. A couple that have alternate meanings of love that Tony tries not to dwell on. He carefully punches the number into his phone and presses dial.

“H-hello?”

“Did I wake you up?”

“Who is this?”

“Tony Stark from the flower shop this morning.”

It sounds like something is dropped, something fumbled, and Steve’s a little breathless when he finally speaks, “Did you, uh, get my flowers?”

Tony’s smiling even though he knows Steve can’t see him, and it’s all kinda ridiculous, but he sees that beautiful bouquet in his kitchen and sees red roses behind his eyes, mauve carnations dancing in his vision, “Yeah,” He says, smiling like an absolute idiot, “I should give you some daffodils in exchange, I appreciated them so much.”

Steve snorts, and Tony imagines him smiling too.

“What? Is that not how it works?”

“I’m glad you appreciated them, Tony Stark. I meant it.”

Tony feels a feeling in his stomach, something like purple lilacs rising through him.

“Wanna go for dinner sometime?”

He imagines Steve’s smile looking like a field of daisies.

“I’d love to.”

[rwby-nwbe]

Just Finished RWBY Volume 2...

...and HOLY HECK IT GOT BETTER.

[Warning: Spoilers for Volume 2 and Long Post.]

New antagonists! More huntsman action! More characters and interactions! And the fights, tho. THE FIGHTS!

*Ahem* Okay, clearly I just need to start from the beginning...

Episode 1

We start the new season by being reintroduced to our new antagonists, Emerald Sustrai and Mercury Black. They may be villains, but they're also obviously teens (Mercury radiates prick energy) and they're dynamic is entertaining. Also, RIP Tukson, he seemed like a nice dude...

We then cut back to Team RWBY and JNPR, who are apparently on break at the moment. It's also nice to see Sun again, and we also get to meet Neptune. Anyways, someone throws a pie in Weiss face, and you know what that means...

FOOD FIGHT!!!

Seriously, THESE KIDS ARE CRAZY. Ruby can apparently surf on lunch trays! Weiss used ketchup and a freakin' swordfish like Myrtenaster! Blake used baguettes and a sausage link like Gambol Shroud! Freakin' YANG was punching things with TURKEY! JAUNE... threw a melon, that was cool; nice to see that he's losing the noodleness of his body. NORA RIPPED OUT A PIPE, STUFFED IT TO A MELON, AND CALLED IT MAGNHILD! Note to self: never challenge Pyrrha to a fight near a vending machine (or anytime, really). Ren can kick WATERMELONS, and fight with LEEKS. HOW CAN THEY EVEN DIGEST ALL THAT FOOD!?

RIP Neptune's hair though, I hear grape is hard to wash out...

Then we cut back to the White Fang and Torchwick, who are then met with Mercury, Emerald, and later the great Cinder Fall herself. I'll admit, Mercury's funny but a jerk, and Emerald... I'm pretty sure I was mentally screaming "YOU'RE BEING MANIPULATED" when I saw her and Cinder. First she doesn't give Emerald a hug, then she tells her to not think and just obey? RED FLAGS. RED FLAGS EVERYWHERE.

Oh, speaking of Cinder, while she does radiate boss energy, I'm glad that I don't personally like her. I don't know what it is, but it might be the fact that she's treating everyone else like her pawns (and considering she used a chess piece later in this volume, I wouldn't be surprised). I mean, good villain, but like any good villain, I want her to get roasted, though that might not work given her Semblance.

Also, Roman Torchwick, you beautiful jerk, never change. I love ya, but I also love seeing you get dragged, which is what Emerald did to you at the end of this. Yep, I'm on board for this season!

Also, the new opening. I thought nothing could top "This Will Be The Day." I was wrong. Haven't listened to all of it yet, but "Time To Say Goodbye" SLAPS.

Episode 2

So, several things. There's board games, insert Yu-Gi-Oh reference here... Yang has too much power. Also, if I remember the lingo right, then this is also the episode where the White Rose shippers got crumbs, the White Knight shippers were once again denied, and where the Iceberg shippers were born (while the rest of us were titling our heads in confusion with Jaune). Jaune continues to be a social dork (what's with the blonde boys blowing Blake's secret? Don't think I've forgotten about Sun...). Blake is being consumed with the burden of RESPONSIBILITY. I feel that Blake. Oh, and the ending...

Why do out villains have to be clever enough to infiltrate the actual school!? And Weiss' "We're doomed." I hope that's not secret foreshadowing...

Episode 3

Jaune fails yet again at wooing Weiss (at least Yang comforts him at the end), and the gang begins their espionage. We meet Penny again, Weiss deals with her past, albeit briefly, and Penny... oh boy. She's hiding something, and the hiccups make it obvious. What could it possibly- oh...

Episode 4

Most of us had our suspicions, what with Penny's awkward demeanor and ludicrous super strength, but yep, she's a robot! Aw, get yourself a real one like Ruby. Oh, and Neptune's useless with Yang around. Speaking of, HEY, good to see you again, Junior! So Blake and Sun intercept the White Fang rally and... oh fudge they got giant robots. BAIL! We also get to see Neptune's weapon and Sun's semblance (before they nope off the road and leave the rest of the fighting to RWBY, while they go off and get ramen, the jerks...). Also, nice to see that they have team attack names (I believe some of them double as ship names), and this is where we get to meet the Ice Cream Queen Neopolitan (not to be confused with the now officially dubbed Ice Queen Weiss Schnee. If even the villains are calling you that, then congrats, you have a new title)! Neo then proceeds to give them the slip, and I personally believe that Yang only disliked Weiss' pun because it highlighted her failure.

C'mon Yang, at least she's TRYING!

Episode 5

Pyrrha is a combat queen. 'Nuff said. Suck it, CRDL.

Oh no. Mercury is both a smart aleck AND smart. This will not end well.

Blake, take a break. No, seriously, working yourself to death just because you think you can doesn't mean you should. You will only feel worse. TAKE A BREAK.

Well Jaune, mission failed. You'll get her next time.

Pyrrha Nikos. Sweetie. We're talking about Jaune Arc here. He's not gonna get the hints you're dropping unless that "hint" is a full blown irrefutable confession so obvious that even he can't screw it up. I know you want to help him because you like him (and yes, even like like him), but it's clear Weiss isn't interested, at least not now. Capitalize on that!

And our villain group continues to be dastardly. *Chuckles* We're in danger.

Episode 6

The dance draws near, and it seems that both Blake AND Jaune could use a pep talk!

Poor Blake. It appears your faunus trait makes you more cat-like than just the ears.

Also, poor Ren. He just wants a nice bath, but alas, the power of bromance.

Oof, tough love from Yang. Pretty good flashback, though. Also, Pyrrha, your selfless nature will be your undoing, listen to Nora.

...oh God, if I'm saying "listen to Nora" when the world isn't ending, we might ACTUALLY be in danger.

Aw, the dance looks fun. Poor Jaune, tho. Don't worry, at least Yang, Blake, and Sun are having a good time (and this is the part where I realize I'm becoming a SunnyBee shipper, crap). Poor Ruby, having to wear heels. Don't worry, Ozpin will keep you company.

Oh crap, the villain kids are here! What are you up to!?

Episode 7

This one gets the runner up for my favorite episode. Alternatively, I give it the title "Team Leaders Know What's Up."

Jaune, you may be a dumbass, but you're the rare "Surprisingly Competent Dumbass With A Heart Of Gold," and you get my respect for that. Being socially awkward with Ruby? Comedy gold. Putting things into perspective for Neptune? Props, my dude. Comforting Pyrrha? Friendship goals (even though it should be more than friendship goals, but hey, you put on the dress, I'll give you that). Nice dance moves, by the way, JNPR.

As for Ruby... drinking Jaune's punch? Iconic. Noticing Cinder sneaking away? Nice. Fighting her in heels of all things? You, my dear red reaper, are on another level. A shame that Ironwood couldn't get there faster and that Cinder had to bail, but oh well.

Also: Penny continues to be heckin' adorable. I will never NOT stan.

Episode 8

HEAR YE, HEAR YE, THE NOBLE DOG ZWEI HAS GRACED US WITH HIS ADORABLE PRESENCE. Tremble before his ability to fit in boxes and melt Weiss' heart. Oh, and RWBY gets exposed to Ozpin, but surprise! Even Ozpin doesn't have to play by the rules! Though that could get him in trouble with Ironwood later...

Why does this show keep showing me characters that I want to get to know better in record time!? Team CFVY looks so interesting, and it's nice to see Velvet again! Ooh, I hope we see them more later...

Also, Professor Oobleck, I know we saw a bit of you in Volume 1, and I wish we got to know you better. You seem delightful.

Episode 9

Okay, my previous statement of DOCTOR Oobleck still stands. I love this chaotic fast man.

He's both funny AND deep! His reaction to Zwei? Comedy gold! Him picking apart RWBY's motives and the Grimm? Disturbingly thought provoking, but enjoyable. Also, Ruby, you're great, but you're not entirely a genius, you're just a little bit lucky.

In conclusion: there are a lot of characters to stan in RWBY. Dr. Oobleck is one of them.

Episode 10

We learn about WBY's motivations, now excuse me while I go crying in the club right now.

OH NO, RUBY GOT KIDNAPPED! AND SHE DOESN'T HAVE HER SCYTHE! FRICK, it's a mindset kind of deal! Without her scythe, she thinks she's useless! Oh, and Roman's there too, that's not good.

...that is REALLY not good, Oobleck! Get down there, all of you! Wait, is your thermos... your WEAPON!? HOW THE FU-

(Sidenote, I looked up the name, since most weapons have them and I'm impatient for them getting name dropped. "Antiquity's Roast," eh? Fitting...)

Episode 11

So... this episode.

Poor Ruby. She failed to fight back, she almost ran away but then it turns out Melodic Cudgel is also a GRAPPLING HOOK. Thank god Yang and company finally busted their way in.

...why are Roman and the White Fang going kamikaze with those train car bombs? Oh right, the Grimm. Crap, that ain't good.

Ah, Oobleck. You may have accidentally repeated Ruby's line, but a swig of your thermos/club/flamethrower and then using it to bat Zwei into a cannonball of death redeemed you!

So Neo's back. She's skilled, sassy, has something going on with her eyes... Oh boy, Yang's getting outclassed by a pipsqueak. That's gotta suck.

Does every faunus (baring Blake, Sun, etc.) hate the SDC? Seriously Weiss, what did your father DO!?

Roman, do not get flirty with Blake. Junior tried something similar with Yang way back in the Yellow Trailer, and he got socked in the face. You deserve that kick in the head.

Oh look, Yang's mom is here! Nice, now Neo can't kill her (don't you dare, you little ice cream, I swear...). Oh. OH. That's a big sword. Yeah, ya better run, Neo. You ain't winnin' this fight. Great, now I want to know what Yang's mom's deal is. Figures she just warped away afterwards...

And now the Grimm are above ground. Yeah, seems like a good time for the season finale.

Episode 12

Now THIS is my favorite episode.

Look at that, Jaune's getting good instincts! And it's nice that Team JNPR was able to help RWBY. Also nice that Jaune can actually kill a Grimm now. Good job, man. You earned Pyrrha's smile of approval.

As much as I'm wary of the antagonist trio, I'll admit, they can fight good. Especially Emerald, her guns are sick. Why am I warming up to her so fast? What is this magic!?

...CFVY. CFVY. WHY ARE Y'ALL SO BADASS? Seriously, Yatsuhashi's carying an entire sword and a half. Fox just pulled a Ren and caused a Grimm to explode. Coco... God, Coco- WHY DOES RUBY HAVE SO MANY QUEENS, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!?

"You just destroyed my favorite clothing store. Prepare to die."

I-FREAKING-CONIC!

And she just murders Grimm with a BRIEFCASE. That turns into a GATTLING GUN. BECAUSE OF COURSE IT'S ALSO A GUN. (BTW, Gianduja is a really cool name for it.)

And now I want to know Velvet's weapon! It doesn't look like much now, but apparently it took a semester to build. And we know that Velvet can fight based on what we saw with her and Fox, so how does she ADD to that!?

THAT TRACK IN THE BACKGROUND, TOO! "CAFFEINE~" HELL YEAH!!!

Ooh, Port and Oobleck teamup! Oh no... THE GLYNDA IS MAD PEOPLE. I REPEAT, THE GLYNDA IS MAD! SHE HAS NO PATIENCE FOR YOUR GRIMM BS!!!

Welp, Roman got handled, though I doubt it's for long... Yay, RWBY finally gets a break! Oh boy, trouble brewing between Ozpin and Ironwood, that ain't good.

...bull man's back. Uh, guys, Adam's back! And he's helping the bad guys! THIS IS REALLY NOT GOOD.

...oh, so your name is Raven? And that's what you look like under the mask. There's the resemblance... Oh boy, where have you been all of Yang's life?

...

So all in all, Volume 2 was even better than Volume 1, in my opinion. It's like they took the first volume and amped it up to 11. Longer runtimes, great comedy, great action sequences, great CHARACTERS. It's just a complete trip! 10/10, would ride again. Welp, it's getting late, so I can't immediately start Volume 3. But what Volume 2 gave us is good enough to tide me over.

...I am so glad I started this series. Well, this is goodbye for now. Cheers, internet!

-Mathewton, the RWBY Newbie (22 March 2020)

[alindakb]

How Love Hurts - Chapter 5.6 - by Alinda

Draco follows Scorpius through the house and watches as his son lets his fingers slide over the bannister when he walks up the stairs.

“And the kitchen is downstairs? In the basement?” Scorpius asks.

“Yes, it is,” Draco answers.

“The study is really cool. Looks cosy. Albus would have loved it.”

Draco doesn’t answer. He doesn’t want to think about the sad look on Harry’s face this morning, or about the fact that three members of their little family are missing. Last summer they had spent so much time with the five of them, visiting museums and parks all over the UK. And now it is just Draco, Scorpius and Harry. Draco has no idea how they are going to survive the constant reminder that their family is incomplete now that Scorpius is here.

Scorpius opens every door on the first-floor landing. He looks into Draco’s and Harry’s room and shakes his head. “Did Harry had any say in the furniture or is this all you?” he asks.

“Mostly me. Harry picked the pictures for on the wall. And I just made sure everything else matched.”

“It’s nice,” Scorpius says while he opens the door to Lily’s room. The walls are painted yellow and match nicely with the dark wooden floor. A big purple rug lays on the floor. The rest of the room is still empty. Scorpius closes the door without saying a word. Draco knows he’s struggling as well. For one short holiday, he had two brothers and a little sister before they got ripped away again.

“I’m not allowed to talk to Albus,” Scorpius says when he looks into the room that was supposed to be his and Albus. “Rose helps, she passes notes back and forth for us.”

“She sounds like a nice girl,” Draco comments. He doesn’t miss how Scorpius’ cheeks redden a little before he turns towards the last door. He looks into James’ empty room and signs.

“I hate not having him around in the Slytherin dorm. He’s my best friend and I’m not allowed to talk to him because his mother thinks I’ll poison him or something. I hate sitting on the other side of the classroom and see how miserable he is. He said James is looking out for him and that he’s okay, but I know he’s not.”

“I’m sorry, Scorp. We never wanted this to affect your friendship. If I had known it would come to this I would have never told him.”

Scorpius turns around to face Draco. “Don’t say that, dad. You and Harry love each other. We both don’t blame you, or Harry. He’s the best thing that ever happened to you. And you know, it’s only a couple of years before we’re seventeen and Al’s mom won’t be able to stop us from hanging out together.”

Draco stares at Scorpius. He’s so much like his mother sometimes. It makes Draco want to smile and cry at the same time. Astoria would be so proud of their boy.

“You’re thinking of mom, aren’t you?’ Scorpius asks.

“Yes, you remind me of her from time to time.”

“I think she would have come to yell at the headmistress for agreeing with Albus’ mom, being all about how unfair and unreasonable it is to use children as ammunition in a divorce.”

Draco laughs when he pictures it. Scorp is right, Tori would have been outraged about it all. And the idea of her screaming at McGonagall until she would see sense. If she only was here now to help them all through this difficult time. Astoria always knew how to turn dire situations into something beautiful and filled with love.

“Albus and I wrote back and forth about what we want furniture wise. Starting with a bunk bed and something cosy to sit on,” Scorpius says. He walks back downstairs and opens his trunk. Draco tries not to look at the mess while Scorpius pulls out a large pile of parchment. “We’ve made some sketches,” he says while he hands the parchment to Draco.

Draco flips through the papers. There are notes and little side remarks. Sketches of furniture and possible layouts of their room. “Albus is fine with you going furniture shopping without him?”

“Yes, he said it was stupid if I had to stay in an empty room all summer. We know what we like and what we don’t like. And as soon as all this mess is sorted out and he doesn’t like it, we can always change it, can’t we?”

“Yes, you can,” Draco answers. He hugs Scorpius and turns them towards the stairs. Together they walk into the kitchen were Harry and Toby are having a cup of tea. Mila is preparing dinner. She looks up and smiles at Scorpius.

“Welcome home, Scorpius,” Mila says. She puts down her knife and walks over to hug him. He bends down and whispers something in her ear. Mila laughs. “Don’t be ridicules, Scorpius,” she says before she turns back to the stove. Draco looks at Harry who stares at Scorpius with teary eyes. Draco steps up to him and places a hand on his shoulder. Harry rests his head against Draco’s arm. Scorpius sits down next to Toby and hugs the elf before he turns to Harry. He places a big pile of parchment on the table. Harry looks at it in disbelieve.

“Letters from Albus, James and Lily for you. They wanted me to tell you that they miss you and that they love you. And I promised them I’ll make sure you’d enjoy your summer and that we would have fun. So I get that you are sad, but I’d like to go back to school in September with the news that I didn’t break my promise.”

Draco smiles at Scorpius who keeps his eyes on Harry. Harry reaches for the letters and picks them up like they are made out of some precious diamond. Draco watches him skim over the words of his children. Watches as the tears come. Draco sits down on the chair next to Harry and pulls him against him. He holds him while Harry cries. Scorpius ignores them and starts to tell Toby about his exams and the grades he got. Toby tells him to study harder, that Scorpius should take his school more serious. That not everyone is as blessed as him to go to a good school.

Harry’s tears have died down a little when Mila serves dinner. They eat while Scorpius tells about his last couple of weeks at school and how he and Albus made sure they could stay in contact. He talks about Rose, how she helps and how he spends a lot of time with her studying in the library. Mila tells about the new cookbooks she ordered that she wants to try out during the summer and Toby talks about the books he’s been reading. Draco tells them all about his latest shoots and his new little studio. And all the while Harry is quiet and withdrawn. He hardly eats any food and he leaves for bed as soon as dinner is over.

“I’m making it worse for him, aren’t I? Scorpius asks.

“He just misses his own children, Scorpius, but I’m sure he’s happy you are here,” Mila says.

“But he didn’t say a word, he hates me for being here.” Tears fall from Scorpius eyes and Draco struggles to hold back his own. It had been a nightmare to see Harry struggle every day with the hole inside his heart, but to see Scorpius break down because of it all is even worse. Draco stretches his arm over the table and Scorpius takes his hand. Teary eyes look at Draco. “I don’t want him to hate me, dad,” he whispers.

“He doesn’t hate you, Scorp. He’s hurt and sad. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you, because he does. He loves you like you’re one of his own. Just give him some time,” Draco tells Scorpius.

Scorpius nods and Draco squeezes his hand.

“You tell him I’m sorry it’s just me here,” Scorpius says.

“I will,” Draco agrees.

“Okay, then now go to him and hold him. He needs you more right now than I do.”

“Scorpius, I,” Draco starts. It’s clear Scorpius is still upset and there is no way Draco is going to leave his son like this, no matter how much Harry needs him right now. Only Scorpius is just as stubborn as his mother and shakes his head.

“Dad, go up there. I know you want to. It’s okay. I think I want to go to bed early anyway. It’s been a long day.”

Draco nods and stands up. “I’m glad you’re home, Scorp.”

“So am I, dad.”

[ragdollrory]

The Jasmine Snapdragon

The sky was still a pastel mix of orange and pink when Azula’s name was called by the barista, and she picked her latte up at the counter. The shuffle in her phone switched to a calm tune, and she walked the two blocks that separated the coffee shop from her uncle’s shop, a hand searching through her bag for the heap of keys the man had given her the previous night.

A couple of minutes and several light switches later, soft music filling the room, she was comfortably sitting behind the counter. Paper cup in a hand, and a book on flowers and their meanings in the other. 

It was only a couple of weeks until Iroh returned from his trip, but Azula figured if she’d been tasked with taking care of the place, then she might as well do her research. Plus, Zuko had assured her time and time again he could do with some weeks of her being absent at the company, and promptly taken her workload from her hands. So it was not like she had a lot more to do, as she waited for clients to show up. Once she tackled this, she’d start a novel, or another econ book, whichever caught her fancy first.

The place was nice enough to be in, once you got past the array of colors and aromas. Neat and varied, with some really exotic numbers as well. Or bright, happy, and completely adorable, in the words of Ty Lee, who often visited to have tea with her uncle. That was a friendship Azula could understand, but would rather stay the hell away from, lest she got her aura read, and cleaned with the weird blends the chubby man and hyperactive friend were so fond of.

Once the coffee was done, nose still in the book, Azula went onto checking the water in the vases, removing the withered flowers, and finally flipping the sign on the door over to Open. It was just a couple of weeks, she could do it, she’d lived through worse after all. The vultures at the company’s legal department, university, the institution, her family… This would be a piece of cake.

And really, as days trickled by, running the shop turned out to be effortless. Between her good memory, and knack for reading people, Azula found bouquet making to be an easy enough activity. She’d spotted several types- or stereotypes even- of customers so far.

First on her list, and last in her esteem, were cheaters. Those she could smell the second they walked through the door. Anxious as they looked through the store's varied options, toying with their wedding band when they were married, and checking the mobile an excessive amount of times while at it. They were easy to spot, and easy to sell to, and since Azula couldn't really skin them, at least she made sure her uncle's shop made a profit out of their disgusting habit.

"You don't really want to pick those." Came her usual opening line, with a discreet roll of her eyes, as they automatically went for the red roses. "Those are nice, sure, but it's a bit obvious, don't you think?”

She made her way around the counter, to point out some other options, not trying too hard to hide the disenchantment in her voice. “I’d say some chrysanthemum could be nice. Red means love, of course. White is for loyalty, and devoted love.” She let a second tick by before continuing. “Then yellow is sorrow, neglected love… perhaps an array of them would be good.

“Unless it’s not for the wife, but the lover. In that case I’d go with the red roses after all.”

It was most amusing how they just itched to buy and get it all done with, no matter what she decided was best to sell them. Always paying in cash, and oftentimes buying for both the spouse and lover. Sometimes Azula wondered if whoever received them understood the message behind the pretty arrangements. If they stayed together afterwards as well. Sometimes the client would return, and she’d known they’d not read between the lines of the flowers. Sad, really.

Probably one of her favourite type of client was the opposite of the first one, the long-run partners. They usually went in with a clearer idea in their mind, having gifted flowers throughout their marriage, or having read certain species was best for the current anniversary they were on. And their smile as they talked about their loved one was contagious.

Those, Azula helped with genuine interest, taking her time to put together a bouquet that would bring out the same joy in the receiving end as it did to the buyer.

“Perhaps it’s not the most common flower to gift, but Honeysuckles carry meanings of devoted love, and lasting bonds.” She explained to a man in his mid-sixties, who was looking for a gift for his wife of over forty years.

They’d gone over several options already, before he asked for the trumpet-shaped flower, and Azula couldn’t help but to monologue a little about the things she’d read on the plant. She even went as far as to mention the properties attributed to it when using it in a tea blend. The whole flower shop vibe was clearly getting to her, although she’d rather believe it was the man’s willingness to listen to her.

“If you plant this,” Making a quick trip to the back, where her uncle had the greenhouse, Azula plucked a little sprout of the plant in vivid coral color, to hand to the man alongside the bouquet, “then hummingbirds and butterflies are bound to come to your garden.”

He’d returned twice since then, once with his wife, who had brought her homemade cookies, and showed her pictures of the little plant in its new pot. It had been a nice day.

Other clients in her list were teenagers, and those were most amusing to tend to. Never sure of what they were looking for, blushing every couple of seconds, or everytime Azula asked them a question about the person receiving the flowers.

They usually came with limited money also, wrinkled in their pockets where they nervously pushed their hands, or in their backpacks under a pile of trash they often had to take out over the counter to be able to find the bills.

“Okay, listen to me, take lilies.” Azula’s patience was running thin with this one, but she’ll try her best not to throttle the girl, because it reminded her a little of Mai. And well, because it would not look good on the store. “They stand for refined beauty, and orange ones are passion. She won’t just like it, she’ll love it.

“Trust me, I know what I’m talking about.” Whatever it was that made the girl believe her, she was thankful for it, and she left with a stuttered thank you, and a nice arrangement of four lilies, while Azula was left methodically straightening the rumpled bills against the counter’s edge.

No, tending to the store was easy, fun even. And somehow- and Azula wasn’t pointing at people, but it had been Ty Lee- her uncle found out just how well she’d been doing her job, and decided to extend his trip a couple more weeks. It wasn’t the most awful thing to happen, but she’d been itching to go back to the company already. Still, Iroh hardly ever left the city, and two more weeks could harm no-one.

Azula had just sold a large basket of pink tulips for a baby welcoming gift, and was at the back fixing the vase, when the door chimes announced a new buyer. She called she’d be there in a minute through the parted door, getting a ‘take your time’ in return.

“Oh, you really don’t want to pick those.” Came her already trademark phrase, as she walked back into the shop, and caught the look of the newest customer.

Tall, big- so freaking big, probably a gym fanatic by the looks of it. He was tanned, with messy waves of ombré hair to his shoulders, and black ink tattoos spiralling down his arms from under his t-shirt sleeves. So, a surfer maybe? He had the aura of it, and Azula was positive the tattoos were Hawaiian.

“I’m sorry?” He turned to her from his inspection of some peonies, curiosity very vivid in his expression, a raised eyebrow towards her. Half his face was hidden by a heavy beard, but Azula had to blink a couple of times under the deep blue of his eyes. A smile tugged at his lips, and she shook her head to clear it.

“Peonies, you probably won’t want to pick those.” She took the tulips back to their fridge, taking a moment too long under the cool air, before turning back to the man. “They are linked to romance, and marriage, often times used to propose.”

“Okay.” He agreed without fuss, and Azula thought she was closer to her goal of guessing correctly. “Should I worry that you’re a mind reader, or-” His smile widened with a breathy chuckle, and she found herself smiling back at him.

“Not at all. I wouldn’t be in a flower shop if I were.” Rolling her eyes playfully, Azula moved onto what she figured were the flowers he was looking for. “So maybe roses, those are always popular, or irises-”

“Where would you be?” He cut through her speech.

“What?” She really wasn’t used to getting questions that were not flower related, not by first time buyers at least.

“I think this is a nice place to be, a happy one. But if you weren't here, where would you be?” The man commented, hands pushed into the back pockets of his worn-out jeans. She tried to ignore how he towered over her, giving a perfect view of the shirt hugging his chest as he did so.

"I, um. I'm a lawyer actually. I work at my family's company." Azula wasn't sure why she was hesitating over that, almost as if she regretted her position there. Or the fact that her name was on the very building she worked at. "I'm just covering for my uncle here. The shop is his."

"Hmm" The man gave her an appraising look, as if he were trying to picture her in a suit, maybe. Or maybe she was thinking too much into it. "Well, you seem to know quite a bit of flowers for being covering for him, then."

"Yes, well- I read a lot." Her answer was probably a bit off, but this whole conversation was. He was here to buy flowers for someone, some Barbie girl he met at the beach probably, and she had a book to go back to. Azula moved back to the flowers. "So, lilacs are good too, a magenta one is passion, so you could combine it with a-"

"Passion? No, no." He interrupted again, and this time she huffed, and turned to him with a hand on her hip. "I think you got the mind reading wrong here, who do you think I'm buying for?"

"I don't know." It was her turn to give him a once over now, and what a mistake it was. His smile was full of mischief, and her stomach had the gall to flip dangerously. "A Tinder date?"

His laugh filled the shop, loud and lively, and his eyes tightened with it, happy lines forming at the sides. Azula frowned, arms crossing at her chest.

“No, God no. Tinder dates, yeah- those aren’t my thing, really.” His voice was breathy when he spoke, shaking his head with a smile. He ran fingers through his hair. When his eyes found hers, there was softness in them. “I need something for my daughter. She has a ballet recital today.”

“Oh.” Oh, indeed. Azula’s arms dropped to her sides, shoulders losing the tension she’d gathered in about ten seconds. A daughter. “Okay, that’s- that’s nice. And easier, I guess.”

She was ashamed to say she was ashamed, and was too proud to apologise for the mistake. And there was also the fact that he seemed completely unfazed by the whole thing, and followed her around the shop in silence for the next couple of minutes as Azula pointed out options for him to pick. She could feel his eyes on her, making warmth climb up her neck, and making her breath catch whenever she turned and caught them on hers.

“I think daisies and sunflowers will do.” He said after some time, and she nodded, picking up one of the vases to take to the counter. He took the other one.

The music around them was the only thing filling the silence as Azula trimmed the stems and prepared the arrangement on a bright colorful paper. Her eyes trailed to the tattoos on his arm every so often, where he leaned on the counter.

“So what about me made you believe I was on a date?” The question definitely made her blush now, and she just focused harder on the flowers, thinking on an appropriate answer. There was none.

“Your looks.” She shrugged, not really wanting to say more, but the rise of his eyebrows encouraged for more. There was a line through his left one, Azula noted, a scar. It made him look better somehow. “I don’t know, okay. I just-”

Her hands motioned over to him, as if that made any sense, as if she made sense anymore.

“You just look like a man who would pick someone up easily, and- have many dates probably. Just, forget about it, okay?” She did not plead, she never pleaded. Azula tied the ribbon on the bouquet, and handed it over. “Here, these are on the house.”

He stood there for a moment, considering her words perhaps, about to laugh at her again maybe. And then his hand brushed over hers as he took the flowers. A shiver ran up her arm. God, please make him go now, before she made more of a fool of herself. 

“I insist.” Her voice was just a tad strained, and he stopped in his pulling out of the wallet.

“Okay, then.” Azula dared to look up, and he was sporting a really soft smile that made her chest ache. Damn it, why wasn’t he going away already? “Tikaani will be very happy with them, thank you.”

A sigh she didn’t know she was holding left her lips as he finally reached the door, but he turned once again, and she had to hurry to school her face to something that didn’t say ‘I was checking you out’.

“I didn’t catch your name, if you don’t mind me asking.” There weren’t many times in her life where she’d felt like this, spellbound by a total stranger, but this right here- as he stood by the door with a corner of his lips pulling up on a charming smile- this was one.

“Azula.” And then it was a full grin, and who had given him the right to just look so happy?

“A beautiful name. I’m Tonraq.” Azula thought she managed a nod before he left, but wasn’t even sure about that, and then she dropped herself very unceremoniously on the chair.

She had only managed to take a couple of steadying breaths, when the door chimed again, and she tried to clear her head to take on this new customer.

“Hi, can I- Oh.” Tonraq was there again, plucking two flowers from the vases, amaryllis, and daffodil. She tried very hard not to bring forward the meanings. It didn’t work; joy, new beginnings, and worth beyond beauty. She didn’t dare breathe.

“So I was wondering, since you wouldn’t let me pay for the arrangement, that I could pay for dinner? Friday night? It’s not Tinder, but I did bring flowers.” He smirked, and she had the sudden urge to push a finger to his chest and tell him a few truths, and- and kiss him as well. How unfair that he could do that.

“You think you’re so funny, don’t you?” Azula couldn’t help the smile from reaching her lips, no matter how hard she tried. She plucked the flowers from his hand. “Fine. Only- because you picked them wisely.”

Grabbing a pen and a store card, she wrote down her number, and handed it over. His fingers lingered on hers a little longer this time, her heart hurried behind her ribs.

“I’ll pick you up at six, Princess.” He winked, and turned on his heels.

“I’m not- don’t-” She tried calling back on him, but it was too late, he was hopping into a Jeep already. And she was smiling at the nickname anyways. Azula smelled the flowers as if she wasn’t surrounded by them, her cheeks burning with the promise of the date. 

If he thought she were a Princess, he should’ve picked a purple iris.

[boratanical]

loona x their relationship with color

a lot of loona theories dealing with color talk about how the colors relate to each other rather than how they represent the member so heres a more in depth look into the color’s psychology ! a lot of times, colors will have different associations based on individual experiences and that plays a big part in loona !

heejin - bright pink 

bright pink is known to be vivacious and stimulating. bright pink is a more rich hue of the usual pink and we can relate that to heejin’s song being vivid - a song about color and standing out. the mv is filled with very vibrant colors 

hyunjin - yellow

yellow has dual associations - positivity and loyalty compared to cowardice and caution. in japan (aka hyunjin’s country), the color yellow stands for courage. in her mv around you, the mv and song talk about how shes trying to find courage to confess to her crush but she constantly cowards away from doing so. even though at the end she doesnt have the courage to approach her crush, she seems hopeful that one day she’ll be able to do so. yellow is a great representation of hyunjin’s duality in which despite her shyness/cowardice, she continues to build confidence and hope  that one day she can do it - her storyline shows the positive and negative meanings of yellow

haseul - green

green is the most common color in nature and is often associated with rebirth . the thing is that despite her color being related to nature, her mv is at iceland aka a place with no nature. in the beginning of let me in, haseul says “Deep in my heart, in that dark place/You suddenly entered / Awakening my world” which can mean that Iceland is what her heart originally was before a person (i guess a lover) enters her life and helps her be born again - so maybe after this lover enters her life her heart becomes green (”is now being colored with you”) aka reborn ? also green is the color of hear chakra and it represents a bridge between the physical and spiritual world so maybe its not even a lover but rather another distant version of herself (which is repetitive in loona) is being discovered and shes becoming one with herself ?

yeojin - orange

orange is known to be energetic and it draws attention, just like our maknae !!!! its also known to be a flashy color and give a childish appeal. in yeojin’s mv later, it is similar to hyunjin in which it shows duality of her color. positive associations include being sociable (her multiple suitors) and negative associations include being self indulgent (scenes where multiple items/gifts are shown). another thing with orange is that it helps lift up personal limits, similar to how at the end of the mv she gives the frog a kiss on the cheek despite saying how they shouldn’t rush . 

vivi - pastel rose

pastel rose / light pinks are mostly associated with love and romance. lighter pinks are known to have a calming effect and be associated with feminine qualities like softness and nurturance. vivi has the most wholesome mv out of all of the girls in which she is softly crushing on a boy. 

loona 1/3 

hyunjin, haseul, and yeojin have citrus colors while heejin and vivi have shades of red. overall the colors complement each other. 

kim lip - red

just like her debut, kim lip and red are often associated to have power, energy, and are known to attract attention. in fact, red is said to be the most attracted color (like how eclipse is considered to be the  most popular solo). red accents on neutral backgrounds are a way to attract attention (which her mv happened to do) and red also symbolizes sophistication which kim lip is often associated with. 

jinsoul - blue

blue is a color favored by many people too (just like how jinsoul and sitr are popular). people who are associated with blue often have a need to feel unique and authentic - like how sitr was unique to all of the other loona solos due to edm elements. blue is also known for its ability to relax and stimulate a person at the same time and is called a calm authority which can be seen regarding to the structure and sound of sitr. sitr mentions how at first things are out of control until “You have spread blue” and then they become “standing on top of this night” so maybe the lover/another version of herself in this instance takes over jinsoul similar to how haseul gets taken over by green - but in jinsoul’s case the blue helps her gain authority 

choerry - purple 

purple is a balance between red and blue - it has the stability of blue (the fun meoldy) and the energy of red (the beat drop after the chorus). the color is known to create a unusual atmosphere and be unique and observant ( like how choerry and mirrors - a weird way of communication and she has to constantly look for/in mirrors). a lot of words that are associated with purple appear in lcm’s lyrics - magic ( Love cherry magic ), imagination (ah ah, Imagine ah ah), special (Our special days start today). also, purple does not appear in nature a lot so anything thats purple is often associated with being rare and delicate - this is the opposite of lcm mv bc at the end everything becomes purple which could represent how shes in paradise because in no other natural way would a purple landscape exist 

oec 

red, blue, and purple will cause irritation and arrogance if too much of the colors are present aka the produce are strong effect - similar to their girl crush image

yves - burgundy 

burgundy is a combination of red (vivi / i know a stretch) and purple (choerry). its a sophisticated color and people who like the color often considered what others think about themselves. they have unconventional thinking and have a desire for being unique. burgundy ppl also are known to be introverted so maybe at the beginning of new yves was alone until she meets a lover/another version of herself that allows her to open up more and gain confidence (The look of you when i open my eyes/ So bright that i couldn’t dare to approach / My heart that wants to be like you / Gets colored, filled with you) . also, burgundy lacks a sense of fun/energy that pink has - so maybe instead of a different version of herself like haseul and jinsoul have, vivi is what brings a new self out of yves. yves later on is seen to have a god figure (with the members and orbits) and burgundy is known to represent high social status !!!

chuu - peach

peach is a charming color (just like chuu). it helps bring courage to yourself (chuu eventually taking a bite out of the apple to be with yves) and help others not to be afraid (helping gowon have a revelation). negative associations include relying to heavily on others and fear of being alone, which we see in heart attack where chuu constantly wants to be with yves. just like how yves has an actual person (vivi) to bring out change, chuu has yves and she ultimately changes her (”Dipped you inside my white heart, and made it red” - burgundy has red in it so yves turns her heart to a lighter shade of red since her heart is originally white which can result in a muted color like peach or even a similar color to yves’ lover which chuu wants to be)

gowon - eden green

in the first part of one and only, gowon is seen to be in the dark/hiding but she eventually becomes one with herself/has love for herself and she becomes overall lighter. similar shades to eden green like aquamarine and turquoise are associated with a release of guilt. in gowon’s case, she feels held back until she eventually comes to turns that only she can make herself better and this can represent her release of guilt (the guilt of  holding herself back?). other meanings of the colors include being able to heal through play, being childlike, and being denied what we want because we dont work hard enough. based on her mv, maybe gowon felt like she wasnt trying hard enough to improve herself which resulted in a guilty feeling and eventually she realizes that only she can cause improvement in her life and she eventually becomes healed and can now enjoy herself. or rather then not working hard enough, shes trying to protect herself from getting hurt (another association to the color) and as a result she shields herself away from everything. once she connects to her spiritual self (turquoise is known as a color that connects to the spiritual world), she can finally enjoy herself. some other fun stuff is that turquoise represents friendship (yves, chuu, and gowon running together at the end of the mv) and that burgundy is considered the opposite color of aqua and that burgundy is used to balance out aqua (yves going to gowon and crowning her).  

olivia hye - gray/silver 

gray is a cool, neutral balance color that represents a lack of emotion. its associated with loss, unsettling feelings, and being timeless (”They say that time heals / Even those words became pain for me”  but if gray is timeless that means olivia hye doesnt have time to heal oooh snap) . gray is also a color that represents conformism - having no personality (which is seen in love4eva). people who like gray often try to protect themselves from the world around them and prefer a safe and balanced existence. silver has a mature sense of justice and often reflects energy back to where it came from  - we can see scenes of the egoist mv being bright pink (known to be a fun color but is reflected back to represent anger for olivia aka the first betrayal) and for some of olivia hye’s scenes in love4eva turn red (olivia hye suffering from the other girls leaving her aka the second betrayal) - this is why an individual’s experiences are significant in the portrayal of color in their life!! 

yyxy

all of the girls’ colors are a combination of colors which could symbolize how 1) they need each other to be who they are or 2) their fates are intertwined 

[frostedpuffs]

A Simple Suggestion - Ch.14

A Simple Suggestion Summary: Chat Noir was no stranger to a difficult home life—Ladybug knew that more than anyone. When he jokingly suggests that life would be easier for the both of them if they were roommates, the two of them freeze like ice in the midnight air, breath caught between them as the notion hits them full force. It drifts through their thoughts in silence until they decide that perhaps, in a world where impossible things are plausible, the idea wouldn't be such a bad one. So, with a skip in their steps and an entirely new kind of excitement brewing in their chests, the two find themselves considering something neither of them had ever before: moving in together. The tricky part is still keeping their identities a secret. When feelings become muddled and embarrassing thoughts cross between two people and one, both Marinette and Adrien have a hard time finding exactly where their affections lie, even as they begin to form a deeper bond with the one person they never expected would find a path into their heart. Rated: T+ Pairing(s): Ladybug/Chat Noir, Adrien/Marinette

Chapter 14 - A Night Out Word count: 9,914 Also read on: ao3 Chapter summary: Alya and Nino drop by for a surprise visit, and Marinette loosens up a little more than she'd planned.

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He woke up at noon.

Sunlight streamed through his open eyelids as he blinked at the harsh yellow rays. Rubbing at his eyes, Adrien sat up with a yawn, his back cracking with the force of his stretch as he rose from his bed. The wooden floor underneath his feet was cool to the touch. With his green pajama pants falling past his ankles, he allowed his body to slump as his bangs fell in front of his gaze.

Ugh. He really needed to stop sleeping so late. But with the freedom of living on his own, it became harder and harder to maintain multiple aspects in his life, including his sleep schedule and the types of foods he ate—among other things.

Adrien placed his palm to his forehead with a grimace. A headache creeped up the back of his neck.

The entire first month living with Ladybug had been a rush. At first things had been awkward—it took them a good week or two to get comfortable with sharing a living space and adjusting to each other's lifestyle—but overall, it had gone by smoothly. Better than that in Adrien's opinion, actually. Living with Ladybug had been so much fun.

He barely remembered this past month other than the fact that he'd been having the time of his life. Despite being unable to control himself at times, living on his own was fantastic! He could do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted to do it, and nobody could stop him. Eat cake for dinner? Sure! Sleep until one? No problem! Wear nothing but boxer shorts around the house? Hell yes.

Ladybug didn't care. Ladybug had her own life to live and let him do whatever he wanted. And he loved having that freedom.

Continue reading on ao3 or under the cut! ↓

When it came down to it, Ladybug didn't mind how he lived.

Except, of course, when the mess in his room left little to no space for anyone to walk through, and when his laundry became a mountain in the corner, and his stomach started curling in on itself from the constant fast food and quick meals since he hadn't exactly perfected his cooking skills quite yet. Or when he realized he hadn't eaten an actual vegetable in two weeks and his sleep schedule was absolutely screwed because he stayed up until four in the morning and slept until nearly one in the afternoon.

It had only taken one comment from Ladybug about how his room looked like a tornado hit it for him to get off his ass and clean it.

He had really taken the cleaners at his childhood home for granted… Who knew that maintaining a pristine living space was hard when he didn't have someone to clean up after himself?

Thankful that he had a partner like Ladybug to help keep him from sitting on his lazy ass, Adrien smiled, glancing around his recently-cleaned bedroom as rays of afternoon sunlight trickled through his curtains and onto the rumbled sheets of his bed. The heat of the sun was comfortable against his back, but Adrien resisted the urge to curl back up on top of his blankets and instead forced himself up to a stand, where he crossed the hall to the bathroom to shower and brush his teeth.

He needed to get ready for a relaxing day off.

After he'd gotten out, he changed into a black T-shirt and jeans, made himself a quick sandwich for lunch and checked his work email, reading through boring message after message about some stupid meeting coming up or a staff dinner night—which sounded boring too, save for the fact that a staff party might mean Marinette and Chloé would be attending—and it was after ten minutes of reading and replying to various emails that he got a text from a number that was all too familiar, sending a smile to his face.

Nino had sent him a picture. Which, by all means was a normal thing this far into their friendship, but this particular photo was different. Special, in a way—a particular type of special that caused Adrien to nearly choke on his own spit, a cough rising from his blocked airway as he hacked and took in a gulp of air to steady his breathing.

It was a selfie of Nino standing in front of the Eiffel Tower, two fingers held up in an innocent peace sign with a smile that practically put a halo above his signature red baseball cap.

"That asshole," Adrien snickered. He slapped a palm to his forehead in disbelief and quickly hit the dial button, not wasting a moment as his best friend picked up the phone. "Dude, what are you doing? Where are you? You jerk, you didn't tell me you were visiting!"

Nino's responding laughter on the other line had Adrien grinning like a fool. "That's called a surprise, Adrien!"

"You're both here?"

"Of course," Nino said. "I'm not leaving my girl all the way across the ocean, are you kidding me? I'd miss her too much."

Ah, well, he could understand that. Now that they were living together, if he had to leave Ladybug behind while he visited a far away place… He'd be sad enough to cry.

(Perhaps he was a little too attached.)

"I had a question," Nino continued. "Do you have plans tonight? The four of us should go out to dinner. Besides, I've been dying to have some of Marinette's pastries again, so tell her to bring some."

Adrien gave a playful roll of his eyes. "Her parents' pastries, you mean."

"Same thing. Anyway," Nino said, the sound of wind in the background distorting his voice a bit. "Do you work today? What time does Marinette get off if she's working too? We wanna know what would be a good time and place to meet up for dinner."

"I've got the day off," Adrien said. "I think Marinette gets off at seven."

He could hear Alya's voice in the background as Nino said, "Alright. I'll see if Alya can let her know we'll be coming—"

"Or you could keep it a surprise," Adrien offered, lying his head back against the armrest of the couch. "You know, have me tell Mari that it's just us two going out, and have her see you guys waiting outside for her. That'd make her day, I'm sure."

Nino's tone brightened. "Good idea."

They'd decided they would go out to a restaurant they'd visited not long before Nino and Alya had left for California. It was a quaint place with good food, a rooftop terrace that held a live band and seats, and cylindrical fish tanks that adorned the interior. It was a little on the pricier side, but Adrien didn't mind. He was happy to take his friends out for a tasty meal and drinks any night.

(Even if Alya couldn't indulge in a night of drinking due to her being pregnant, he supposed.)

He spent the remainder of the day cleaning the apartment. He knew Ladybug would be tired by the time she got home, since his father was pushing deadlines on his employees as the mid-summer months began rolling in, and the last thing he wanted her to have to deal with was coming home to a dirty living space.

The kitchen counters were wiped, the wooden floors swept and vacuumed, the bathroom was organized and living room cleared of clutter. He fluffed the couch cushions and, after hearing Plagg incessantly complain for cheese, even went out to buy some groceries for he and Ladybug to share, as well as other household necessities like toilet paper and soap.

"I should probably call Marinette," Adrien said as he parked back home and began to unload the paper bags from his car. "I need to let her know that we're going out."

Plagg poked his head out from the bag that contained his cheese, voice muffled from the food in his mouth. "Taking your girlfriend on a date?"

Rolling his eyes with a smile, Adrien shook his head. "No, unfortunately. But we are meeting up with Alya and Nino tonight for dinner. If you're good, I might even order a cheese appetizer to go, so don't cause trouble."

He winked at his kwami, whose eyes began to sparkle with delight. The little god licked his lips as he began to salivate. "Trouble? Me? That's unheard of!"

"Yeah, sure." Adrien scratched under Plagg's chin, who responded with a purr. "Let's get these groceries inside."

As soon as he'd gone up to his apartment and set the bags on the counter, Plagg zipped out from the cover of a box of pasta noodles and dove into another bag, tossing things out as he searched for whatever it was he was looking for. "Where are they?" he asked, burrowing a hole into the neatly bagged groceries (that were now in a pile of disarray on the counter.) "Where are Tikki's cookies? You bought her some, right? It better have been chocolate chip. Those are her favorite."

Adrien grabbed the bag of dry goods that sat to the side and pulled out a container of twenty-four chocolate chunk cookies, placing it on the counter in front of his kwami. "These?"

"Perfect." Without waiting for Adrien to put them in the pantry himself, Plagg picked up the plastic container and zipped off to the windowsill next to the couch, where the two kwami had made a makeshift nest of fabrics and cotton for them to rest in. Plagg busied at the nest as he landed in it, paws brushing the soft materials around—as if he was trying to perfect it before his other half came home. He opened the pack of cookies and placed one on the side closest to the window where Tikki usually enjoyed spending her nights.

It was a funny thing to see Plagg so caught up in making their own little spot in the apartment grand enough for Ladybug's kwami. The usual sarcastic, playful nature of Plagg was reserved only for humans it seemed, because when it came to Tikki, well…

He was different. Different in a way Adrien could understand. He was the same with his partner, after all.

After putting away all of the groceries and stocking the bathroom and kitchen with the household items they'd needed, Adrien checked the time displayed on the oven. It was already three-thirty; Marinette was probably on her lunch by now, unless she'd taken it early.

He thought of her leaving her sketchbook at her desk and sitting in the breakroom, relaxing in one of the chairs and listening to the radio, mindlessly playing on her phone as she ate.

Adrien wondered what she was eating. He hoped it was something she liked, like something sweet, or perhaps a favorite meal of hers.

(But to be honest, he hoped she was at least eating at this point, knowing full well that she'd been skipping one too many lunch breaks to meet her ridiculous deadlines…

He'd tried talking to his father about it. He had. But the old grump hadn't wanted to hear it.)

So, because his stomach was starting to feel sick with worry over whether or not she had eaten enough for the day, he wasted no time in picking up his phone and dialing her number.

Marinette had just clocked out for her lunch break when her phone began ringing.

Not bothering to read the caller's name, she picked up, holding her phone in one hand and reaching into the break room fridge with the other. "Hello?" she asked, pulling out her salad and sitting at one of the tables. She opened the plastic container and poured the cup of dressing over the spinach leaves.

Adrien's voice came from the other line. "Hey, Marinette. Have you eaten yet?"

Fork in mouth, Marinette hummed in response. "Uh… Working on it."

"Good," he said. She heard shuffling come from his end. "Anyway, I was wondering if you'd like to go out to dinner tonight. My treat."

She dropped her plastic fork on top of her food in surprise, nearly losing her phone—which Adrien had just paid to get fixed—in the process. Heartbeat quickening, she nodded before realizing that he couldn't see her, and said (a little breathlessly), "Yeah! Yeah. I'd love that. What's, um—what's the occasion?"

Of all the things he could do, Adrien giggled. "Oh, no occasion. I just remembered that I had promised to take you out one night, hadn't I?"

Marinette swallowed a bite of her salad. "You just did last week when we went out for pizza."

"Yeah, but that wasn't fancy," he said. "I want to take you somewhere fancy."

"Why?" she found herself asking, because she was genuinely confused. Unless… He was asking her on a date, then somewhere fancy would be reasonable, but… Was he asking her on a date?

Please say yes. Please say yes. Please say yes.

He had been acting more affectionate towards her lately… And she had caught him staring at her a lot as of late...

She could practically hear the smirk in his voice as he responded, "What, a friend can't take another friend out somewhere fancy and expensive?"

"I- I don't know, probably?"

Adrien laughed. "If you want to, meet me at the corner of Varenne and Vaneau at eight. I have a surprise for you."

"A surprise?" Marinette cocked a brow in question. "For me? What is it?"

More importantly, what did she do to deserve it?

"You'll see," Adrien chuckled. "But I promise you'll like it."

The rest of her work day went by slowly after that. She went through her tasks distracted yet determined to get her work done, scolding herself every time she caught her thoughts wandering and only allowing herself to to focus on what she needed to get done for the day.

By the time seven rolled around she was exhausted—covered in cuts from accidental pricks of her sewing needles and the tips of her fingers smudged black from her pencils. Her hair was a mess and she felt hot, desperately wishing she could take a shower when she arrived home but knowing she didn't have the time.

Marinette arrived home by seven-fifteen and barely remembered to slip her mask back on before she walked through the door. It was quiet inside. With Chat Noir in his bedroom, she called his name to let him know that she was home and, after shutting her bedroom door, changed into an outfit that didn't smell like sweat (and was considerably less wrinkled, as well.)

She donned herself in a wine-red dress that had long sleeves of lace and a ruffled skirt that flowed when she walked. It reached down to mid-thigh, its neckline just below her collarbones, which gave her space to put on one of her favorite necklaces—a golden chain with a spotted ladybug charm.

Running a brush through her hair—which needed to be cut, as it was getting longer than she liked—she pulled her black tresses up into a messy bun, allowing a few strands to frame her face. Her makeup was fine; she didn't need to fix it. With black heels and a final spritz of perfume, she admired herself in her floor-length mirror and grinned, proud of how pretty she looked.

She checked her phone for the time. It was seven-forty. Time to go, Marinette decided.

Her mask stayed on her face as she knocked on Chat Noir's door. "You decent?"

He opened it not a moment later, dressed in nothing but jeans and dress socks as if he had been in the middle of changing as well, a casual grin on his face until he stopped and looked at her. His eyes widened and his jaw dropped as his gaze darted from her face to her feet. He took a moment to admire her outfit before his eyes met her own, face reddening all the way down to his neck. "You- you, ah, uh, you are- my Lady!"

She laughed behind her hand. "What?" Despite how her cheeks burned at his reaction, she didn't mind the way he lost his words at her appearance. It felt nice to be thought as attractive, especially by someone who was equally as attractive as she was.

Chat ran his hands down his masked face. He groaned, "You're killing me, Ladybug. You're really killing me."

Marinette gave a playful roll of her eyes. "Oh, hush. I just wanted to let you know I'm going out for the night and that I might not be back till later tonight, so don't wait up, okay? I think there's a phone number for pizza delivery on the fridge, so—"

"Don't worry about me," Chat Noir said. "You go have fun, okay?"

Giving him a brief hug—unfazed by his shirtless state, as this was normal by now—she turned and left, grabbing her purse off of the counter as she made her way out.

"Enjoy your dinner!" Chat Noir called after her just before she shut the door.

Marinette froze in the hallway.

Dinner…? How had he known she was going out to dinner?

Huh. That was strange. Puzzled, Marinette slipped her mask into her purse and stepped inside the elevator, figuring he just assumed she was going out to eat and guessed correctly. No matter—she had somewhere to be, and a certain boy to look forward to meeting up with. There was no reason to dwell on the one she lived with.

The walk to the restaurant was short. It took her all but fifteen minutes to arrive, and the evening summer air was cool enough to where she hadn't been bothered by any sort of heat. It was a perfect night for a date, she thought.

(Her palms were sweating, and her mind was running a million miles a minute, but she wasn't thinking about it.)

Marinette's pulse quickened as she approached the front doors, but something stopped her. There was a feminine voice she swore she'd heard over her computer just a few days ago; a voice she'd never forget. One that she'd talked to nearly every day ever since the owner had left her on a flight to California less than a year ago. A voice that belonged to—

"Surprise!"

Marinette screamed. Sounds of pure joy burst from her lips as her eyes set sight on her best friend, who had apparently travelled all the way from California and was somehow standing in front of her outside the restaurant she had planned to meet Adrien at. Her heart was pounding. She couldn't contain her excitement as she propelled herself into Alya, her muddled feelings of glee and anger for not being told that she was visiting overflowing her tiny body and sending her eyes to water with a bucket of tears.

Oh, great. There came the waterworks.

Alya smelled of lavender and honey. Her rounded stomach pressed into Marinette's own as they held each other for the first time in what felt like eons, Alya's lips connecting to her cheek in a friendly greeting that made Marinette's throat tighten with the threat of a sob.

It felt so nice to be able to see her best friend again. To be able to hold her, feel her and look at her, as if they hadn't properly spoken to each other in years; as if this was a dream she never wanted to wake from. Alya was back. Alya was home. And, as her friend's hands rubbed up and down her arms, Marinette felt as if this night couldn't possibly get any better.

That is, until she glanced over Alya's shoulder and saw Nino smiling at her tear-streaked face, his hand outstretched in a wave.

"Oh my god," she cried, squeezing Alya in a tight hold. A thought flashed in her mind that caused her to pull back, however, and she hastily apologized as she remembered that she was currently carrying a tiny human inside of her. "I'm sorry! Did I hug you too tight? Are you okay? Is the baby okay?"

Alya laughed, giving her a pat on the shoulder. "I'm fine, 'Nette. I'm only pregnant, not dying."

Marinette sighed in relief.

Wow… Alya was positively glowing. She looked stunning; her red hair was pulled up into a high ponytail, thick locks draping over her bare shoulders and falling nearly down to her chest. Her hair was getting long—it looked like she hadn't cut it in months. Marinette found she liked that, though. It really worked for her.

Her dress was knee length, black with off-the-shoulder long sleeves. Around her neck was a silver necklace, a matching pair of earrings dangling from her ears. She wasn't wearing heels, Marinette noticed—probably due to the fact that her feet were swollen from pregnancy.

Her baby-bump was just noticeable. Marinette had to repress the urge to cry uncontrollably for how happy she was for her best friend. Her hands reached forward momentarily but she hesitated and pulled back, terribly wanting to feel for any sort of life that might be stirring within her friend, but also respecting her personal boundaries. Although there had never really been any between the two of them in the first place.

Still, it didn't hurt to ask. "C-can I—?"

"Of course," Alya chuckled.

It was weird to feel her friend's swollen belly, knowing full well that there was a growing child inside. Though there were no kicks or any movement to be felt, Marinette smiled still, finding the whole situation overwhelming. Sure, it was a little surreal to know that her best friend since college was going to have a baby when she herself hadn't had much luck in the romance department, but it was nice, too. Nice to know that soon she'd have a little niece or nephew to look after—because while she and Alya weren't related, there was no way in hell she would let her friend's kid go without calling her "Aunt Marinette."

"You're so mean," she said, a smirk gracing her lips as she teased Alya, removing her hands from her stomach and meeting her eyes. "You flew all the way here without even telling me, you ass! I would have gotten you guys gifts and baby stuff if I had known!"

Nino stuffed his hands in the pockets of his dress pants as he let out a laugh. "Be mad at Adrien," he said. "He's the one who wanted to make this a surprise."

Jaw dropping, Marinette leaned forward, eyes bulging. "Adrien knew!?"

"Knew what?"

Turning around so fast she swore she'd given herself whiplash, Marinette's face reddened at the simple sight of Adrien. Though "simple" wasn't the best choice of words, because he looked anything but simple—with his lean frame dressed in a white button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his just above his elbows, black jeans and a leather belt to match, he looked good. No, better than that—he looked hot!

She swallowed. Her throat felt dry.

(Could they go inside so she could order a glass of water?)

"A-Adrien," she breathed. Standing up straight, she gave an awkward wave.

It was amazing how one cute guy could make her entire brain malfunction.

Adrien stood next to her, the thin fabric of his shirt brushing against her bare arm. His expression was soft as he gazed at her outfit, his head cokcing to the side in a way that was endearing. His eyes glowed with affection as he said, "I like that dress. You look pretty, Marinette."

"Oh, thanks," she said, a hint of laughter in her voice. "You look pretty too."

Adrien's responding smile was one that could light up the sky. "Thank you!"

"Marinette didn't like the surprise," Nino joked, throwing his arms around his best friend and wrapping him in a tight bear-hug. "She's mad that you wanted to keep our visit a secret."

Squeezing Nino in his hold, Adrien laughed. "But I only found out today when you were already in the city!"

"Because we were trying to surprise both of you! But Nino had to send a picture." Alya stepped over to the two tallest of the group and shoved herself between her fiancé and his best friend for a well-deserved group hug. "Marinette, get on in here. We're having a bonding moment."

Unwilling to be left out, Marinette's cheeks hurt from how wide her smile spread as her friends opened their arms to her, squeezing herself into their hold. It was warm; full of love and laughter and joy; a feeling that made her heart beat with the unmistakable memory of home. This was her happy place—here with her friends—and it had been too long since she'd last felt the comforting embrace of their arms and the heat that radiated off of their entwined bodies.

"I love you guys," Marinette said. Her eyes began to water a second time. "I've missed you so much."

"I missed you both, too," Adrien added. Marinette felt the arm he held around her tighten. "How long are you staying for?"

Pulling away from the hug, Alya and Nino shared a glance before Alya gestured with her hand towards the glass restaurant doors. "Let's get our table, and then we'll talk."

Marinette couldn't ignore the way Adrien kept his hand against the small of her back as they walked inside the dimly-lit restaurant. Her pulse raced, fingers clenching on the strap her her purse and eyes trained on the floor.

Could he just keep his hand there? Forever?

They were seated in the back at a booth in front of one of the restaurant's many fish tanks that dotted the interior. The light from the water illuminated the surface of the table, its wooden finish glowing a faint blue. While Alya and Nino sat on one side, Adrien joined Marinette on the other, and the four of them glanced over their menus as they chatted.

His hand momentarily brushed her own as he lifted his menu. The cool metal of his ring grazed her fingers. "So, how long are you guys here for?" he asked, directing his attention to their visitors. "And where are you staying?"

Hands intertwining, Alya and Nino smiled in unison.

"Just two weeks, for now," Alya said. Her hazel eyes sparkled in excitement. "We're actually looking for houses—"

"—so we can move back not long after the baby's born," Nino finished, shooting an apologetic look to his fiancée for interrupting her. Alya gave a playful roll of her eyes and patted his hand.

"We would have liked to find a place before she arrived," she said. Her thumb moved in circles over her partner's skin, caressing his hand like it was her favorite thing to hold. "But time isn't exactly on our side, and while we're not short on money, we—"

"Wait, wait," Marinette said. She lifted up a hand to stop her friend in her tracks. "'She?' You're having a girl?!"

Adrien chimed in. "How far along are you, now?" he asked, placing his reading glasses on the collar of his shirt, as it seemed he had already decided what he was ordering as his entree.

What a shame. She'd always loved how he looked when he wore those things…

(Funny. Those glasses looked almost identical to Chat Noir's, now that she thought about it…)

"Eighteen weeks," Alya replied. A hand went to her stomach. "So… A little over four months."

"Wow," Marinette breathed. "It's still hard to believe, to be honest."

"For us, too," Nino said. "But we're excited."

The waiter came to take their orders, politely interrupting their conversation. He held a bottle of wine in his hands with an offer to fill their glasses, and immediately all eyes went to Alya.

She laughed. "Hey, don't worry about me. You guys have your fun. I'm only here for the food."

The wine was a familiar bitterness on her tongue as Marinette placed her lips to the rim of her glass.

"So, where were you guys thinking of moving?" Adrien asked as he sipped his wine. "Somewhere close or more towards the suburbs?"

Nino shot a text before pocketing his phone, eyes bright as he replied, "Well, we were hoping for a house with a yard, but anything that's available is either just outside city limits or too far away from where we grew up. So we're actually scouting for some larger apartments with two or three floors. Kind of like the home you grew up in, Marinette."

Smiling at that, she swirled her wine around in her glass. It was a red—one of her favorites—and she had tomorrow off, so there was no harm in doing a little drinking.

"I hope you guys find some place nice," she said. "Hopefully somewhere close to us. I'm always up for babysitting, you know."

Alya snickered. "Baby's not even born yet and my girl is already trying to steal her away."

"I'm just saying," Marinette laughed, finishing her glass, "that if you need baby help, don't be afraid to ask."

"Oh, I won't. Trust me." Alya smirked. "If this kid starts driving me insane you bet you're watching her for a week while I take a vacation in the Bahamas."

Nino placed his hands on his fiancée's stomach, grinning. "Don't listen to your mom, kid. We love you!"

The waiter returned shortly after to bring them their food, and they took a moment's silence to begin eating. It wasn't long before they were talking again, and after Nino had told the group a story about a surprise streaker at one of his recent shows, Marinette had found herself laughing, immensely enjoying her time out with her best friends for the first time in what felt like ages.

She was glad to see that Adrien was having a good time, too. He'd been working almost as much as she had as of late, and all she'd wanted for him these past few weeks was for him to find an opportunity to wind down and be his goofy self rather than stiffly posing for the camera for hours on end.

Adrien's eyes met hers. Caught staring, she sipped at her second (third?) glass of wine and looked away.

"Hey," Adrien said, turning his attention back to his other friends, "I bet I can guess what you guys missed most about Paris while you were gone."

Nino poured himself another glass of wine. "Besides the food and decent gun laws?"

With a laugh, Adrien said, "The akuma attacks."

Alya tapped him on the arm. "Oh, fuck you. I'm so glad that we don't have to deal with those anymore. But I'll be honest, I miss seeing Ladybug and Chat Noir in person. They're still so cool, and watching online footage isn't enough, you know? I have to be there for the real deal. I have to be the one to film it."

Though she'd given up the Ladyblog long ago to pursue her career in journalism, Alya had never lost her passion for capturing photos of the elusive superheroes. Marinette made a mental note to say hi to her in costume the next time Alya was taking a stroll through the city. Maybe she could coerce Chat into dropping in as well...

Her mouth tasted like alcohol as the night carried on. Licking her lips, Marinette poured herself another glass of wine, her eyes captivated by the way the red liquid spilled from the bottle. It swirled and splashed into the bowl of her glass until it was filled just a little over halfway, and her hands felt as if they were moving in slow motion as she set the bottle down with a soft clink against the table.

Was this her fourth glass? Fifth? She didn't know.

Adrien was talking. She wasn't sure what he was saying, but all she knew was that she loved the sound of his voice. If he could just keep talking… That would be nice. Shifting her gaze towards him, her lips curled into a wide smile, cheeks hurting from the force of her grin. He was making conversation with Nino, who—judging by the look on his face—had drank a little more than he had expected to. But it was the same in her case, anyway.

Adrien looked so… So good, so- so nice. He looked so nice sitting there with his hair brushed and his bangs combed to the side, green eyes radiating warmth like a summer's afternoon when the sun had reached its peak in the sky. He looked so nice with the top two buttons of his shirt undone, white sleeves rolled up to above his elbows and lips moving as he spoke, that soft, gorgeous voice resonating deep within her very soul…

Oh, wow.

She felt good. Adrien looked good. Tonight was good.

Everything was really bubbly and happy and Marinette just loved the way his mouth parted when he talked, how his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed his drink—yes, the same one he'd been nursing since the waiter had first offered them a glass—and she adored how his face lit up as he laughed, his dimples prominent with every smile. She wanted to kiss them, those cute little things—she wanted to kiss them and his lips and just him in general. She wanted to kiss him so bad.

...Was she drunk?

Oh, god, she lamented internally. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as Adrien caught her staring for the thousandth time that night. She quickly averted her eyes. I'm drunk and he knows I'm drunk.

Time to crawl in a hole and die!

"Marinette?" Adrien asked, his voice like honeyed silk. "Hey, Mari, you okay?"

"I have to pee," she said, intelligently allowing that statement to pass her lips against her better judgement, which had flown out the window ever since she'd first popped open the wine bottle.

Adrien's lips twitched into a slight grin, clearly amused. "Oh, sorry. Let me let you out." He slid from the booth, standing out of her path as she scooched down the seat, legs wobbly as her feet touched the floor.

Ugh. Did she really have to wear heels tonight? Did she really? Wasn't she fine just being short? Shortness was fine. Shortness was cute. She was cute as hell, short legs and all.

Oh, fuck. She had to pee.

"I'll be right back," she murmured, brushing past Adrien as she made her way to the restrooms. Adrien grabbed hold of her hand, however, steadying her feet as she stumbled.

He squeezed her knuckles. His eyes were velvet as he gazed down at her. "Hey, woah, slow down. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she insisted. She wasn't. But she was, damn it. "Just… Really gotta pee."

"Let me walk you."

Well. Alright. No way in hell she'd refuse a walk with him.

Adrien led her down the hallway, the pad of his thumb rubbing slow, gentle circles into her skin. The world felt dizzy as she followed his lead down a fuzzy sort of path that was the hallway to the restroom, and she felt a wave of embarrassment wash over her as Adrien told her he'd wait outside for her, the concern in his gaze oddly familiar yet not unwelcome.

Marinette wasn't sure how long she was in there. All she knew was that she was tired and that she felt a little sick, and her face burned with the heat of her blush as she realized that the last time Adrien had seen her drunk was Christmas—which, albeit many months ago, was worse than the state she was in currently—and it was just so embarrassing, because oh, she was such an emotional drunk, and now that she was alone in the bathroom thinking about how sweet and kind of a person he was, and how selfless he was to get up from his friends he hadn't seen in months to look after her of all people had her eyes welling up with tears.

She could feel Tikki's comforting touch against her arm as the little god emerged from her purse. "Are you okay?" she asked, tone delicate. "What happened, Marinette?"

"I'm okay, Tikki," she said. "I'm… I'm alright."

Was she?

Ugh. She hated feelings. She hated that she was so in love with Adrien's dumb face (it wasn't dumb, no, no) and she hated that she was staring at herself in the bathroom mirror with reddened eyes and a headache, wishing she could go home with him and curl up into his bed and kiss him all over, his roommate be damned.

Marinette wanted to kiss him so much.

"'Nette? You in here?"

Alya's voice broke her out of her stupor. Tikki zipped back into her purse in a blur of red.

Turning her head, Marinette sighed as her friend entered the bathroom, making quick work to wipe at the budding tears that threatened to spill from the corners of her eyes. Her mind felt thick with mist. "I'm h-here," she murmured, voice cracked and slurred. "I'm… fine." She had to place a hand on the counter to steady herself.

The look Alya shot her was one of disbelief. "No you're not," she said, approaching her with an arm draping around her waist, "you're crying. Why?"

Marinette shook her head. "I… I don't know."

"Are you sure?" Producing a tissue from her purse, Alya stood in front of her best friend and began to dab at her damp cheeks, brushing a strand of hair that hung loosely from her bun behind her ear. "You know you can talk to me, Marinette. Just because this is my first full day back in Paris doesn't mean that I'm not going to be here for you. You're my bestie, remember?"

Another sigh shuddered from Marinette's body. She placed her head on Alya's shoulder, her forehead pressed into the warmth of her neck. The scent of her perfume was strong and inviting. "I'm drunk."

"Well, that part was obvious," Alya laughed. She wrapped her arms around her. "Nino is, too. I'm surprised Adrien is still sober, but he did drive here, so…"

A whine rose from Marinette's lips. "Ugh, Adrien… Why's he gotta be so cute, Alya? Why do I have to like him so much… I thought for the longest time I was—I was done with that boy. But now, I…" Her thoughts were a muddled mess of emotions. "I don't know. I don't know! I'm so mad at him."

Why was she crying?

Why am I crying!?

Alya's voice was gentle. "Why are you mad? You guys are living together still, right? Did he do something?"

"No," Marinette said. "No, he'd never. He'd never be bad to me…"

"Then what's going on?"

Truth be told, Marinette was a little envious. Here Alya was, twenty-two and four months pregnant with a gorgeous ring on her finger, happily in love in a successful, long-term relationship. Alya was lucky. Alya had everything Marinette could have ever wanted in a relationship. Of course she was elated that her best friend was so happy, and she couldn't have been prouder that Alya was going to get married and be a mom, but…

At the same time, Marinette wanted that, too. Not kids—no, not yet—but she was lonely… Really lonely.

Oh, if only she'd had the courage to confess to Adrien when they were younger… Maybe they would be at the same point Alya and Nino were at, now…

(Or perhaps, if Adrien hadn't felt the same way, things would have grown increasingly awkward, and their friendship might have suffered… So maybe it was best this way.)

"I'm mad that he's so cute, and so great, and I can't have him," she bemoaned. Alya was practically holding her up at this point. "And I'm- I'm mad that he's got this crush on someone else but he acts like he's crushing on me, too, and all this past week at work he's been looking at me as if I'm someone else, like he- he recognizes another person... in me. And I'm dying inside because every time he says hi to me in the halls I just want to pull him into a closet and take off his shirt and—"

"Woah!" Alya laughed, pushing Marinette back a bit to gaze into her eyes with amusement. "Down, girl. You know, if you're so desperate to climb up that tree, why don't you just tell him how you feel? I'm sure Adrien would—"

Marinette whined. She leaned against the counter, staring down into the drain of the sink as if the answer to all of her life's problems would magically pop out of the pipes. She felt nauseous. Frustrated, she resisted the urge to bang her head against the mirror. "Can't," she mumbled. "I can't, Alya. I'm no- no good with relationships… I've never even been with anyone before in that way, I wouldn't know what to—"

"So what?" Alya asked. She stood behind her, letting Marinette's hair loose and brushing it out before fixing her bun. "There's no shame in being a virgin. You'll get there when you get there, and that's nobody's business but your own. Don't feel embarrassed about it. Some people have those experiences at younger ages and some don't. It's fine."

Still, Marinette's cheeks burned as the world floated around her.

"C'mon," encouraged Alya, giving her a pat on the back, "let's fix your makeup and go back out to our boys. They're probably wondering where we are."

When Marinette came back out of the bathroom, Adrien noticed the edges of her eyes were stained a light red. His heart dropped a few inches in his chest when she refused to meet his gaze, walking past him with Alya at her side.

"Hey," he said, speaking as softly as he could as he approached her from behind. Instinctively his hand brushed her own—it felt like a breath of fresh air as she welcomed his touch, allowing their fingers to thread together as if that's how they were made to be. "Hey, Mari… What's going on?"

"She's fine," Alya said. She gave him a reassuring look. "She's just tired and very, very drunk."

Well, he knew that. But it didn't stop him from feeling concerned for her well being. What if she was feeling sick, or- or she needed to lie down somewhere? What if her feet hurt from those heels?

He should take her home. He wanted to take her home and let her rest and tell her that things were going to be okay in the morning. He wanted to let her sleep in for once, and when she rose out of her bed he wanted to present her with a plate of her favorite breakfast foods (though he wasn't that great of a cook) like he'd often found her making on the mornings he woke up early enough to steal a taste.

"I'm f-fine…" Marinette told him. She swayed as she walked, her balance inhibited from the alcohol. "Hey, Adrien?"

His heart skipped a beat at the sound of his name. "Yeah?"

"I want cake really bad. Do they have cake here?"

"They do," Adrien said, cocking a brow in amusement. "Do you want some?"

Alya laughed. "We can order dessert."

With a slice of chocolate cake in front of her, Marinette's mood had considerably brightened. In fact, she was feeling so up in spirits that every time he looked at her she smiled so big, and every time he spoke to her he could see light sparkle in her eyes, the way her cheeks dusted pink with a blush, and how happy she became just from a simple sentence being directed at her. It was adorable, to be honest, and Adrien knew that for a fact. Her smile was too blinding for him to not find it endearing.

Alya and Nino left to the bathroom after a while, so for a few minutes it was just Marinette and himself. She was out of it, yes, but her laughter was enough to keep him entertained. Sure, her speech was a little slurred and she was acting much like she had on Christmas when he'd last seen her drunk, but it was a refreshing sight to see her out and having fun instead of being stuck at a desk all day, working herself to death at a job that didn't pay her enough for the amount of passion she carried.

(He seriously needed to have his dad give her a promotion or a raise or something.)

"You're beautiful," Marinette said suddenly, causing Adrien to give a flattered blink of surprise.

"Oh. Thank you," he said, rubbing at the back of his neck. His voice wavered as he replied, "S-so are you, Mari."

She scooted closer to him, fingers running down the skin of his arm as she placed her cheek on his bicep. "Adrien," she breathed, voice quiet, face nuzzling against his arm. He could smell the wine on her breath. "If I asked you a question, would you answer?"

"Of course," he said.

"Would... It be a good answer?"

Those big blue eyes met his own, and Adrien swore he was going to melt. "It depends on the question, I guess," he said.

There was a pause. Then, with her gaze trained on her empty plate, she whispered, "If I told you that… That I wanted to kiss you, would you? Kiss me?"

He looked at her lips.

His heart felt like it had just jumped into his throat. He wanted to say, "yes." He wanted to tell her that he'd been in love with her for years—ever since she'd first introduced herself by trapping them suspended in the air and calling herself clumsy—and that he'd do anything just to know she felt the same way. He wanted to scoop her up and kiss her cheeks and lips and face and tell her that he'd never say no to that question, ever, not once in his life.

But she was drunk. And she wasn't herself.

Instead, he smiled. Placing one of his hands over her own and giving it a gentle squeeze, he said, "Ask me that question again when you're sober, and then we'll see."

She seemed content with that response.

The night went on, the four of them sharing laughs and stories of how their lives had been while living across the ocean from each other, and at one point Nino had spilled his glass of wine on the table, which Marinette had found hilarious. The two of them both had consumed a little too much wine, but so long as they got home safety, Adrien didn't mind. It was actually pretty entertaining to see Marinette and Nino laughing over every little thing someone said or did, and if he hadn't needed to drive home, he might've joined them in their drinking.

Adrien began to feel the beginnings of sleep clutch at the back of his mind. He remained at the table, though, watching Marinette's eyes droop as she swayed. His shoulder had become her pillow at this point—that is, until he had made a quick trip to the bathroom and came back to find Alya combing her fingers through the hair of her best friend, who had fallen asleep with her head propped up on her arms.

It was then Adrien knew that it was time to go home.

With the bill paid and an apology to the restaurant staff for staying so long, Adrien watched as Alya attempted to wake their sleeping friend. Maris only groaned and grumbled in resistance as she urged her to get up. With a roll of her eyes, Alya asked, "Adrien, you're sober, right?"

Adrien nodded. He'd only had one glass. "I'm fine. I'll take her home with me."

"Alright," Alya said. She flashed him a kind smile. "Hopefully she won't kick you for waking her up. Marinette's so mean when she gets woken up sometimes, it's funny."

"Oh, I'm aware," Adrien laughed. "I live with her, remember?"

Lifting her from the booth with a hand supporting her head, Adrien relished in the warmth of her body heat, his heart picking up its pace she pressed her face against his chest. The roll of thunder greeted the group as they walked outside, and as delicate droplets of water began to careen from the sky, Adrien made haste to get Marinette to his car as quickly as possible.

Her hair was soft against the tips of his knuckles as he supported her head, thin wisps of black tresses that carded through his fingers like silk. The road was dark—the yellow street lamps casting a faint golden glow across Marinette's face as a breeze kissed his back, paired with the chill of pale moonlight—and the fabric of her dress brushed against his hands once he set her down in the back of his car.

Marinette was beautiful. That was no mystery. Adrien had known that since he was fourteen and stumbled into their collège homeroom for the first time, seven years ago and counting. She was breathtaking, really, even when she was angry or upset, or on the rare circumstance, completely wasted in the backseat of his borrowed Maserati.

He shook his head with a smile gracing his lips. She was funny like that, laughing and flirting and throwing her social filter completely in the trash, and he couldn't help but cover a hand over his mouth as he stifled a laugh. He glanced to the backseat to make sure that he hadn't stirred her rest.

Alya approached him from behind and he welcomed the hug she pulled him into, giving her a light squeeze and a promise to see them both again soon. Nino did his best to stand upright as Adrien wrapped his arms around him and bid the pair goodnight.

With his friends gone and Marinette resting in his car, Adrien sat down in the driver's seat and buckled up, glancing toward the rear-view mirror to check on her. She was sitting there with a content expression on her face, which eased his nerves about whether or not she was feeling sick.

He was relieved to see her so deep asleep. She needed her rest; he'd let her sleep the whole way home. He'd hate to be the one to wake her after a grueling last few weeks as one of his father's junior designers. Marinette had been stressed to the point of tears as of late, but he didn't blame her—the summer line was something his father took seriously, and his employees tended to suffer from his "all-work, no-break" attitude.

It made Adrien happy to see her sitting so peacefully in the backseat, red-flushed cheek pressed against the window, which was foggy and cool from the beginning showers of rain outside. Her hair was messy, cascading from the bun it had been so perfectly pulled into just a few hours before, and her eyelashes twitched against her freckles as she dozed, oblivious to the world outside her dreams. It was cute—she was cute.

He hoped she was feeling okay. He hadn't seen her like—like that since last Christmas, when she'd attempted to steal an entire ham. But he hadn't been much better then, either.

At least he was sober now. Unlike his friends, he'd gone light on the drinking tonight. Save for Alya, of course, who was four months pregnant and couldn't swallow a drop of alcohol. But they had fun regardless.

Dinner had tasted great, they'd told jokes and laughed until they couldn't breathe, and Adrien had been able to spend time with his best friend again. He hadn't really realized how much he'd missed Nino until he enveloped him in the tightest bear-hug he could manage, since the last time they'd touched each other was when Nino had left him at the airport before he boarded his flight to California.

It felt so good to have everyone together again. And the fact that Alya and Nino were scouting places to live in the area was even better. Especially since they'd be moving back to Paris just a little while after their daughter was born. Daughter, he had to keep reminding himself, because it was still so surreal that Nino was going to have a baby.

Marinette shifted slightly in the backseat. Glancing back at her, Adrien started up the car, thankful that the engine was quiet. The rain poured on outside as he drove. Gutters were flowing with water, the asphalt slick from the storm that raged above them. Neon lights of shops and restaurants passed by like blurred dots in the night, reflecting in the various puddles that scattered the sidewalks and streets. Most people were inside in this kind of weather—it was past midnight, as well—so the city was calm save for the one or two civilians that hurried by in their umbrellas and rain boots, splashing in the pools as they went.

The drive home was quiet.

As he pulled into their complex, Adrien unbuckled, his bangs blowing from his forehead as he let out a sigh. He'd wait until the rain stopped before he brought Marinette home, he decided. He really didn't care for the idea of waking his friend with a splash of rainwater in the face. She might get sick!

His arms, cold from the air conditioning blasting against his damp skin, wrapped themselves around his body while he sat. The clock on his dash read twelve-forty-five A.M. Sleepiness had long since trickled its way into his eyelids, but Adrien fought it off with a yawn, resting his head against the headrest after a stolen glance at his friend in the backseat. She was still asleep, thankfully—but she did look uncomfortable with her neck turned like that, shoulder against the locked door and lips parted just slightly.

Adrien's face hurt from how wide he smiled.

The rain stopped after about fifteen minutes. Switching off the engine and stuffing his car keys into his pocket, he stood from the vehicle, his foot making contact with a poorly-placed puddle that sent a chill up his spine.

Oh, nice. Now he'd have to dry his shoes outside on the balcony for the night.

He opened the door Marinette was leaning on and caught her before she slipped out of the car. It was surprising, seeing her still deep asleep after she'd nearly fallen into a puddle, but Adrien guessed it shouldn't have been. She'd drank enough to last her all the way until tomorrow—and he knew for a fact Marinette normally didn't drink much. Not around him, at least.

She was light in his arms, the fabric of her dress damp from the trickling raindrops that fell from the overhang of the complex roof as he carried her. A strap began to slide down her shoulder. He fixed it before it could travel too far.

Thankfully there was nobody in the lobby as he carried her through it—he really hadn't been in the mood to explain to wandering eyes why he was carrying an unconscious girl up to his apartment, even if his intentions were purely to put her to bed with some aspirin and a glass of water on the nightstand by her side.

The elevator ride was agonizingly slow. He was so tired. All he wanted to do was tuck Marinette in and crash hard into his own bed, pajamas be damned. It was late and he was a little cranky, and he really wanted to take his shoes off, but—

But as Marinette nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck, and the tip of her nose grazed the surface of his heated skin with the slightest accidental brush of her lips to his collarbone, he felt over the moon. The night couldn't possibly get any better now, not when she was here with him. Nothing could compare to the giddiness he felt inside.

Her breath was hot against him, warming him with every gentle exhale. It was a welcome change from the rainwater that chilled him to the bone.

The elevator dinged as it hit their floor.

She was so soft, he thought, carrying her effortlessly down the hall. So soft and warm and she smelled so sweet, even as the scent of alcohol tainted her breath. She was soft and she was home here in his arms—at least, she was to him—and nothing had ever felt more right than it did in this moment.

Adrien was happy. Happy to be awake and here with Marinette and happy that he was able to bring her home safely to the warmth of their place, where a clean, cozy bed was awaiting her, beckoning him to place her down in its embrace.

He nearly tripped over the welcome mat as he entered the apartment. He used his shoulder to turn on the living room light so he wasn't fumbling around in the dark with his sleeping friend in his arms, careful to step around the couch instead of slamming his body into it like he'd done one too many times late after work when the lights were off and he didn't want to disturb his Lady.

The trek to her bedroom was a short one. With his foot he opened the door, eyes squinting in the black of the night. His feet navigated blindly around the floor as nothing but the pale moonlight permeated through the curtains that hung in front of the window, white and shining from the glimmer of the moon. With a wince he stepped on something hard and had to force his teeth down on his bottom lip to suppress the curse he so badly wanted to emit.

Damn it, Ladybug, you're always on my ass about cleaning up my shit, he thought, smiling despite himself. There was no way Adrien could stay mad at her.

His fingers combed through Marinette's hair as he leaned over the bed. Palm connected to the back of her head, he lowered her until her shoulders connected with the cushioning of her pillows, allowing her to relax atop the bedsheets. Her hands—so delicate and warm to his touch—were curled into loose fists, and as he trailed his fingers down her bare arm, his cheeks blossomed with color, heart swelling with affection. He sat next to her in the darkness, no light nor sound rising in the air save for the gentle rise and fall of her chest.

It was strange, how perfectly their hands interlocked—almost as if his large, calloused fingers were meant to fold between her own thin ones. Her knuckles were smooth as he ran his thumb over them, taking in every inch, every detail of the way it felt so simply hold her in his grasp. He moved her bangs away from her eyes, the movement causing his ring to clink against the metal of her earrings—and he smiled, because he knew those earrings. He'd known them for a little while, now. And though the information was still overwhelming, Adrien knew he couldn't be more excited with what he'd learned.

His heart was erratic in his chest. Breathing in, he gave her hand a squeeze before he stood from her bed and began to exit her room, but he paused in her doorway to glance back at her one last time.

"Night, Ladybug," he said to her. "Sleep well."

Then he shut her door, switched out the hall light, and went to bed.

A/N: I’m adding my note here from ao3 because I know I’m bound to get questions. So, here: If you have any questions about how he realized it, don't worry! those will all be answered in the next update as we go over adrien's thought process and what exactly had been going through his mind throughout the past few weeks. so... don't yell at me if it doesn't all make sense yet, it will eventually lmao

[parttimestorier]

Interview with d Marie Licea

Recently, I had a chance to talk with d Marie Licea, developer of Us Lovely Corpses, about the creative process behind this fascinating “surreal-horror-romance” visual novel. Us Lovely Corpses is a VN I considered reviewing for this blog when I read it, but I struggled to write a review that would be interesting and accessible—explaining the parts that most impressed and resonated with me would mean spoiling it completely. But I encourage anyone who can handle some disturbing content in service of a great story and heartfelt message to try it out. This interview will start with some more general questions, and it includes a warning farther down before any spoilers for Us Lovely Corpses appear.

Question: Did you always plan for the story of Us Lovely Corpses to be a visual novel, or did you consider other mediums as well?

Answer: In its earliest stages, Us Lovely Corpses was actually planned as a comic! I came up with the original idea somewhere around 2014-2015—it was going to be about 10 pages, and would just cover the scene that ended up being the game's finale. Alex and Marisol (who weren't named yet) were very different—they were much younger, Alex wasn't really "a witch," and Marisol was originally a boy!

I sat on the idea a while, and the longer I did so the more I wanted to explore the history of these characters, which made for a longer and more unwieldy comic. Then in 2015, when I started learning about visual novels, it hit me that the concept could work really well in that format, especially when the "exploration" element came in.

Q: Were there any particular visual novels that influenced you?

A: Yes! The reason why I started getting into visual novels specifically in 2015 was that because that was the year We Know The Devil came out!

We Know The Devil totally shifted my viewpoint as to what a visual novel could be—no diss to dating sims, but before WKTD, I, like most people, just saw VNs as dating sims and occasionally something like the When They Cry series.

WKTD totally changed that for me—a short, incredibly contained story that also managed to be about so, so much, in a surreal, horror-inspired atmosphere . . . it really blew me away! Not only was it the game that got me into visual novels, but you can definitely see a lot of its influence on Us Lovely Corpses.

Besides WKTD, there was also Her Tears Were My Light, a fairly minimalist love story that used the "rewind" function in Ren’Py as part of the story. Utilizing mechanics as part of the narrative was a really cool idea to me that also ended up in ULC. (side note: I met and hired Alex Huang to do the music for Us Lovely Corpses because I loved the soundtrack for HTWML so much!)

Finally, I was really into the original Gyakuten Saiban (Ace Attorney) trilogy when I was younger, and the evidence gathering segments were a big part of those games. I originally envisioned the "rose clipping" segments of ULC like those parts, where you'd have to select each rose before cutting it, but sadly that was a little too complex for me at the time, and I eventually decided to go for something more simple in order to complete the game. But that initial idea was a big part of what made me try Us Lovely Corpses as a game, so it ended up still being a big influence in the end!

Q: Besides technical things like those mechanics and the exploration element, do you find that you have a different style of writing in visual novels as opposed to the stories you've done in other formats, like twine and comics?

A: I'm not sure if this is always the case for visual novels, but I find I have to format my writing differently when writing for VNs—specifically, in length of sentences and paragraphs. I've found my writing worked a lot better in Us Lovely Corpses the more I broke everything up into smaller fragments—larger ones or paragraphs didn't work as well, which can be a problem for me because my writing can tend to get a bit wordy!

This has to do a lot with the pacing of visual novels and how the player/reader is a big part of that. Control over pacing is a big part of why visual novels appeal to me, but you also have to think differently to get the best result.

Technical stuff aside, I found that, at least for ULC, my actual writing style remained pretty much the same. I think this has the benefit of making the writing in Us Lovely Corpses seem unique, but has the disadvantage of posing a problem for a certain something I didn't see coming at all: Let’s Players!

A few people have made videos of their playthroughs of Us Lovely Corpses, which is incredibly exciting, but when I watch them, I can't help but feel bad for them because they always read everything out loud . . . which means, with my somewhat wordy style, they have to do a LOT of talking!

I haven't actually gotten complaints about this or anything, but I still hope people who make videos of their playthroughs of ULC keep some water nearby!

Note: the next part of the interview contains spoilers for Us Lovely Corpses, as well as discussion of mental illness.

Q: As the story progresses, it becomes explicitly clear that the “monster” is Marisol’s bipolar disorder. Did you ever think about leaving the metaphor more ambiguous, and if so, what made you decide to be so direct instead?

A: I'd say if the "monster" was one specific thing, it would her Ocular Rosaceae, as it's the one specific thing that gives a physical form to Marisol's thoughts and unhealthy behaviors. But even that, in a way, is not taking into account her bipolar disorder and depression, her jealousy towards Alex, her self-loathing and introversion . . . "the monster" is all of those things, because at its core, the monster is mental illness. And mental illness is never just one thing, but many things and factors interacting at once to create something much bigger than a single diagnosis.

All that said, it's not incorrect to say that Marisol's bipolar disorder is the monster; it's just more accurate to say it’s part of Marisol's monster. Back when ULC was still a comic, I wasn't going to talk about specific diagnoses, but as the story grew I realized I wanted to talk more explicitly about mental illness. I don't exactly remember where the idea came about, but early on in the writing process I got that idea in my head of Alex finding that fake corpse and finding that doctor's diagnosis. In retrospect, it was a really, really weird scene, especially as it comes right off the heels of realizing what you thought was a dead body was just a weird joke, but I do like what it represents—in the middle of this surreal trip into a house filled with talking flowers, the story suddenly halts as you soak in this very blunt reminder that, magic aside, this is a world that is representative of the real world. Marisol may have a magical disease and be best friends with a witch, but she's a very real girl, so to speak.

So that harsh reminder is part of why I wanted to be so direct. I guess the other part would be that I just wanted to make no bones about it. Some things you want to leave up to interpretation, and some things you don't. From the very, very beginning the story was always about mental illness, so it just felt right to me to be upfront about it.

Q: One thing I noticed that I thought showed a lot of attention to detail in ULC was that in one of the rooms you explore there are two famous paintings that both have connections to suicide (Millais’s Ophelia and van Gogh’s Wheatfield with Crows). Are there any other little symbolic details like that you added to the story that some readers might have missed?

A: Ah, I'm glad you caught that! If I had stuck with the more Ace Attorney style of gameplay I would have liked to put more small details like that in. As it stands, the big example is probably pretty obvious—Alex's notes about each rose are fairly close to the standard "flower language" of different rose colors in real life. The fact that yellow roses can mean "jealousy" or "friendship" depending on what source you use actually ended up working very well with the story.

The last names of Alex and Marisol are probably pretty obvious: de Rosa ("of the Rose") and Flores ("Flowers"). Something that's probably less apparent is Marisol, a name that originally comes from a contraction of "Maria de La Soledad" ("Our Lady Of Solitude"), one of the titles given to the Virgin Mary.

Q: Was the flower language the reason you used roses rather than any other flower, or were there other inspirations for that as well?

A: There were a number of reasons! One being that Revolutionary Girl Utena was a big influence on my style and particularly on several parts of the game. There's also the whole dichotomy with roses/thorns. And there's also the simple fact that I have fun drawing roses!

Q: For my last question, are you working on any other visual novels right now?

A: I am as a matter of fact! I'm working on a visual novel set in Japan about some high school kids who explore a strange house. It's still in fairly early stages, but I think if I give it my all I will actually have a demo ready in time for Halloween, which would be great!

I’m definitely looking forward to seeing that demo—even more so after learning about all of the serious thought d Marie Licea puts into the details and themes of her work. If you’re as excited as I am about updates on her upcoming projects, you can follow her on itch.io or twitter, and considering supporting her patreon. Thanks for reading!

[unconventional-hero]

Chapter 8-- Under False Colors.

Written by “The Countess”

(In which our Jacks are invited to dinner.)

* * * * *

He found his way back to the hotel. How, he could never tell, but he had never been lost in all his life.

After a sleepless night he came down to breakfast looking pale and haggard. He wondered how he could enjoy fried eggs, fresh fish and muffins when his heart was so heavy, but a man’s appetite is a wonderful and fearful thing, stronger than sorrow or love and rarely absent from its owner.

Certain it was that after the daintily served meal he felt much better and, upon regaining his room and lighting a cigar, he argued the matter, which so disturbed him, pro and con with his conscience.

“Henry Ashton!” he said, watching the smoke form a shadowy likeness of Clyde. “He called me ‘Henry’ when he saw me first. He couldn’t be confused! Blast the man! He’s more than half devil now!”

He kicks an unoffending ottoman viciously.

“He has the clearest brain in all the world and the blackest heart. I hate him!” The ottoman receives a kick this time which sends it flying across the floor. Then comes a pause. A mist suffuses his eyes and is hastily brushed away.

“He was my best friend,” he murmurs under his breath. “And to show him up in his true light would ruin him and do me no good. No, Clyde is too young to marry,-- her folks won’t let her fall in love till she been off to school and then-- ten to one she won’t care for either of us! But any way she’s a little lady and my raising a fuss would only maker her sorry and angry and she would never want to see me again. Yes, Jim’s head is clearest. I’ll forgive and--” with a great gulp-- “forget. And now--” rising and gazing into the depths of the pier-glass opposite-- “take a look at yourself, Henry Ashton!”

He smiles, sarcastically. “And Jim is me! Pshaw, I’ll be sure to call him Jim!”

A knock at the door. A porter with a letter-- no, a card elegantly engraved, “Mr. Jack Morningstar.”

“Somebody making me a present of a set?” he asks genially. “Awfully clever of him! Here’s a quarter.”

The surprised porter eagerly catches the “tip” thrown to him and so misses the dark look of remembrance that comes to Jack’s face. On the reverse side of the card he reads:

“You’re invited, as my friend from Montana to dine at McClure’s to-night with me. Remember, Henry, that Western men are all the go here and don’t polish up. Will call for you at 5:30. --Jack.”

He closes the door after very politely asking the now almost hysterical porter if he won’t “come in and set awhile,” and having the invitation promptly rejected.

“Dinner at McClures’!” he repeats, dazed. “That’s New York for stay to dinner. But ‘at 5:30!’ There must be some mistake! S’pose Jim meant ‘sup.’ Well, well! It’s all one! But at McClure’s! With my little Clyde! And Jim talking of saving her life out West and acting like me! Oh, I can’t do it!”

He throws away his cigar and looks from his window into the street below. What he is thinking of we can but guess. After a while he says it would be rude to refuse, even if he must take a heart of lead with him, and begins to lay out his best attire, polishing his boots until they rival patent leathers, and wondering if “the dudes here put bear-grease on their hair when they go out to dine!”

* * * * *

At 5:30, Jim arrives, picturesque, debonair and handsome. He knocks at Jack’s door, then enters without waiting for an invitation.

“Seems like the West, Jackie, old boy!” he cries gayly. “There, don’t start. Honestly, I’m horribly sorry for what I’ve done. But I’ll make it all right yet. See if I don’t! And I haven’t won the heart of the fair McClure either. The way is open to you. Come, shall we bury the hatchet?”

Jack makes no answer,-- only looks keenly at his companion’s face.

“Hurry, old fellow!” Jim says. “Dine at six, you know. Shall we be friends again?”

Jack starts forward impulsively.

“God knows you’ve hurt me, Jim! I’ve suffered-- there, your paw! Blast me! I love you better than life!”

“And to partly atone for my unaccountable treachery, old boy, I’ll talk to old Miss Dorothy all evening while you’re doing the agreeable to the pretty heiress. Could human friendship further go?”

Jack thinks not. He is as happy as a boy again. At peace with all the world and going to call on Clyde!

They descend the stairs and find a hansom cab waiting for them.

“It is handsome!” Jack says, after Jim has told him what the vehicle is called.

And then they are whirled away to the McClure mansion.

“You’re Henry Ashton, recollect,” Jim whispers eagerly, as they alight. “And I’m Jack Morningstar. Don’t give the game away!”

* * * * *

Miss Jennings greets them most politely and presents Clyde, radiant in rose-colored faille, to “Jack’s” friend, Henry Ashton.

“Really,” she says, calmly surveying them through her single eye-glass, “you are remarkably alike! Are you cousins?”

“Only friends,” responds the pretended Jack, glibly, with an anxious glance toward the real Jack, who is still standing feasting his eyes on the budding beauty of Clyde. “Here, Harry, my boy, take a seat!”

This is a breezy dash of Westernism on “Jack’s” part which is overlooked, though with a short pang, by Miss Dorothy.

She, however, seconds the invitation.

“Mr. Ashton, be seated, pray!” she says in her most genteel tones.

“I forgot where I was!” Mr. Ashton apologizes. “Thanks, I will.”

He takes a stiff, medieval chair at the other end of the room. Clyde’s pretty eyes dance with merriment.

Miss Jennings resolves to treat this new Western acquaintance with great coolness. She makes no effort to have him come into the circle and, turning to the elegant man near her says something about the weather and asks if he is still pleased with New York.

He replies gracefully, exulting secretly over his friend’s solecism and hoping that to the ladies he may appear doubly refined when compared to this “raw specimen,” as he mentally styles him.

After a while Mr. McClure, cordial and breezy as usual, arrives and dinner is announced.

“Dinner?” Mr. Ashton ejaculates, as he rises to his feet and walks rapidly across the room. I do hope that you haven’t kept the victuals waiting six hours for us, Miss McClure!”

Which he considers a graceful stroke, worthy of Jim, but which is greeted with a surprised but merry look from Clyde and utter silence from Miss Jennings.

They are ushered into a long and handsome dining room finished with oak. The table is covered with damask and buttercup satin and an enormous silver epergne, filled with fruits and flowers, graced the center. A dainty, antique water-carafe and the napkins and individual silver complete its furnishings.

Miss Dorothy asks quietly if Mr. Morningstar will ask a blessing.

Honest Jack, quite forgetting the part he is playing, begins, “For what we are about to receive--” when he hears Jim’s voice joining in. In a moment he has remembered all and stops. Jim has honored him, he thinks, by assuming his name. He cannot imagine himself as repeating such choice clauses and pious phrases as he now wonderingly listens to. He is scarcely conscious that he, to all outward appearances at least, has committed another blunder for beginning the grace and save for Miss Jennings’ haughty glance in his direction at the close, no attention is paid to it.

A well-trained butler brings in a bowl of bouillon and a thin square of bread for each of the diners.

“Mr. Ashton, what is the matter?” coos Clyde at his right. “Don’t you like bouillon?”

“Oh, yes, yes!” he answers, his heart leaping into his mouth at the sound of her voice. “I was only looking for the butter for my bread!”

Clyde hides a dimpling smile in her handkerchief. “They never use butter for the bread served with bouillon,” she explains, secretly glad that “Aunt Dorothy” is congratulating “Mr. Morningstar” on his early religious training at the time of this last ridiculous remark.

“Is that so? Funny now, isn’t it?” and Mr. Ashton cooly changes the subject to his great admiration for flowers such as those in the epergne. “And the vase is so odd,” he adds.

Clyde finds him to be great fun and allows him, through successive courses, to monopolize the conversation. Miss Dorothy almost ignores him.

When the lobster salad, fresh from the skillful hands of a chef, is brought in, “Mr. Ashton” sotto voce, tells Clyde that he believes “salading the fish is better than biling them,” only he is afraid the olive oil used in its manufacture may prove “too rich for his blood.”

“And tell me,” he says, at the end of the fourth course. “Did you actually cook all these things yourself? Why! you’d take the premium at the Gallatin county fair for those hot rolls! But maybe you keep a hired girl!”

Clyde laughs aloud, so merrily that “Mr. Ashton” congratulates himself on his fascinating powers, and so unrestrainedly that she meets a look of reproof from each end of the table and a quizzical glance from “Mr. Morningstar” opposite.

Covered with blushes, her face rivals her gown in color. She is sure of a lecture at the close of the dinner.

“Mr. Ashton,” elated by her laugh, says he knows some good conundrums and asks the time-honored “chestnut,” “Why was Eve sent into the garden of Eden?” which is more than Clyde can endure and she laughs again and shakes silently for several moments afterward.

After dessert coffee is served in tiny after-dinner coffee-cups without cream. Jack, the real Jack, does not comment on this fact however, secretly feeling worried at Miss Jennings’ hauteur.

Then come the finger-bowls, a yellow bit of lemon gleaming in each.

“Mr. Ashton” takes his eagerly.

“If there is one thing I’m fond of, it’s lemonade!” he says, and swallows a liberal mouthful of the water, while the dignified butler loses all dignity and rushes to the kitchen.

[clary-jace]

the willow tree.

fandom: girl meets world ship: riley matthews x lucas friar  word count: 4,000  series: harry potter au  year: six  summary: riley and lucas have been dancing around each other for almost six whole years and it’s getting a bit ridiculous, but maybe the magical willow tree will be able to lend a hand. 

Riley fiddled with the yellow and black striped tie that was hanging around her neck, nervously running her fingers through her hair. There was a knot settling in her stomach and she really had no idea the reason for it. Today was just like any other day, but for some reason Riley could feel a shift in the air, and she wasn’t able to put her finger on it. Looking around the great hall she made eye contact with Charlie Gardener a table over, his identical Hufflepuff tie hanging loose around his neck, he gave her a small grin and she lifted her hand to wave before turning her attention back to her breakfast companions.

Her best friend, Maya was sitting across from her, blond hair tied back into a loose braid, laughing at the imitation their other friend, Zay was doing of the peculiar way that Professor Flitwick used his wand, a bright smile on his face. Both of them wear proudly wearing their Gryffindor ties, a sight that still slightly panged at Riley’s heart, even after six years. She had missed the begin of the imitation, and could only look at two of her best friends, a faint grin on her face.

“You okay?” The sound of his voice sent a shiver down her spine and she turned her face slightly, her brown eyes meeting his bright green ones, which were etched with concern.

“Oh yeah, Lucas, I’m fine.” She said, her heart beating erratically in her chest. He gave her a small grin, before nodding and turning his attention back to Zay. She, however, continued to look at him, studying the side of his face, thoughtfully spinning her fork in her hand.

His sandy blonde hair was laying flat for the most part, his green eyes sparkling with delight as he laughed at his best friend. The sight made Riley weak in the knees, this was a recent development, sure, she had always known Lucas was cute, but only recently had she started to feel nervous and jittery around him when he was near.

Which seemed to be all the time these days, sure they had always been close, but now it just seemed like they were always around each other. That was probably one of the reasons that so many of their classmates seemed to think that the two of them were together, that and the fact that their friendship had taken on a new affection level lately always put Riley’s heart in a tizzy.

“Did you hear me, Riles?” Lucas’ voice shook her out of her daze and she realized that she had been staring at him, so he no doubt assumed that he had been listening to her.

“Huh, uh yeah, of course I was Lucas.” She gave him a smile, quickly looking at Maya who had a small smirk on her lips. Zay as also sporting a similar expression and Riley wanted to send them both swift kicks under the table.

“Oh cool, so you’re all set to study this afternoon, outside in our spot?” Her heart was racing again, being alone with Lucas was something that Riley used to crave and cherish, but recently she had been avoiding it, due to the weird way her heart would speed up and her palms would sweat when they were sitting six inches apart at the breakfast table.

“Yeah, that sounds like fun.” She said with a grin, as nervous as she was, it had been far too long since her and Lucas had been to their spot, a willow tree just beyond the eye scan of the castle, and she missed spending time with him. Not to mention that Lucas’ smile was very very hard to say no to.

“Awesome, I gotta go help Hagrid with something, but I’ll see you guys later.” Lucas rose from his seat and Riley followed him with her eyes, he gave Zay and Maya a small wave, before squeezing her shoulder lightly. They all mutter out goodbyes, and she watches him greet a couple of Ravenclaws entering the hall, smiling to herself, it truly amazed her how nice he really was.

…

year one

“I can’t believe it’s my first week of classes and I’m already late, hopefully dad won’t be too mad at me, it’s not my fault that the staircase moved when I was on it.” Riley was fast walking down the long corridor of the east third floor section of the castle, desperately hoping that the History of Magic classroom would be around the next corner. On the first day of class she had walked with a bunch of other Hufflepuff students and hadn’t payed too much attention to where she was going, now she was definitely regretting that decision.

Luckily the class she was late to was taught by her father and despite his sometimes harsh teaching methods, she was a daddy’s girl, so he wouldn’t be too hard on her. She hoped. Her pace was increasing with every step and she was almost out of breath as she rounded the last corner, immediately slamming into someone and falling back onto the floor.

“Oh! I am so sorry, are you okay.” Riley felt tears prickling in the corner of her eyes, more out of embarrassment than anything else and she nodded, grabbing some of her things that had scattered around the hallway. “Here, let me help you with that.” Riley looked out of the corner of her eye at the figure she had run into and saw that it was a boy, probably around the same year as her.

“It’s totally fine, I fall all the time, probably would have fallen anyway, so don’t worry about it.” She said with a smile, getting to her feet, the boy smiled at her handing her the things he had picked up, licking his lips. “Thank you for helping, most people probably would have just kept walking.” She said, clearing her throat.

“Luke man, we gotta go, we’re gonna get killed if we’re any later, come on.” Riley then noticed that this boy, Luke, was not alone and his friend was tugging his arm trying to move them along faster. The boy smiled at her again and gave her a little wave before being yanked down the hallway. A flash of red was visible on his chest and Riley vaguely wondered if he knew Maya.

Later that night Maya pulls her away from a conversation with her roommate Darby, to introduce her to some of her Gryffindor friends. Riley gets up, kind of reluctantly, she was still a little hurt that her and Maya had been placed in different house and would have to spend the next seven years completely separated. Sure, she felt completely at home with her fellow Hufflepuffs, but she wished that her and Maya could be together.

The closer the two get to the Gryffindor table, the easier it is for Riley to make out figures amongst the crowd of uniforms and Riley’s breath hitches when she catches sight of the boy from earlier. And they seem to be moving right towards him.

“Lucas, Zay, this is my best friend Riley. Riles, this is Lucas and Zay.” Maya introduces and Zay merely waves at her, too busy shoveling mashed potatoes into his mouth to speak, which Maya rolls her eyes at and she slaps him on the shoulder. It takes Lucas a moment longer to pull his attention away from his food before he spins around in his seat, a look of recognition flashing across his face as he gets a good look at her.

“Hi Riley, nice to meet you.” He grins and holds his hand out which she takes and a similar smile spreads across her own face. “I’m Lucas.”

“I love it.” She blushes, shaking her head lightly. “Nice to meet you too, Lucas.” She stands there and chats with Lucas and Zay, mostly Lucas, for a few more minutes before she has to make her way back over to the Hufflepuff table, but not before she’s made plans to sit with them tomorrow at breakfast.

Her heart beats rapidly the entire way back across the great hall.

…

“Riles what on earth are you so nervous about?” Maya asked as they made their way across the green, slowly ambling towards the library. Riley was in desperate need of a book for her Charms essay and Maya was trying to pass time before her afternoon Quidditch practice. “You and Lucas hang out all the time, unless…” Maya trailed off and Riley let out a forced laugh.

“I’m not nervous, Maya, you’re being ridiculous.” Riley said with a light eye roll as they entered the library, Maya grimacing as she saw Farkle and Isadora studying in the corner, occasionally making eye contact with each other and smiling. Riley grinned, shooting Maya a look as they made their way through the stacks.

“Yeah, so you’re not totally in love with Lucas and have been avoiding spending alone time with him because of said love and now you’re hanging out with him in your special spot and are nervous of what might happen.” Maya said, rather loudly, earning her both a shush from Riley and the librarian who was floating books among the stacks.

“Ok, so maybe I have feelings for Lucas, but it’s not like anything is going to happen. I’m not nervous. I just, am afraid I’m not going to do well on my exams.” Riley said, finding the book she needed and folding it into her arms, turning to give Maya a look, Maya merely snorted.

“You’ve never done poorly on an exam ever, Riles. I doubt you’re nervous about those.” Riley tucked her hair nervously behind her ear, obviously Maya was completely right, but Riley hadn’t been lying when she has said that nothing was going to happen between them.

“Alright, so I’m nervous about being alone with Lucas, but I wasn’t lying when I said that nothing was going to happen between us.” She said, checking her book out with the librarian. Maya didn’t say anything at first, still looking disgusted about being in the library to begin with.

The two of them exited the library, making their way to the Gryffindor common room so Maya could get ready for practice.

“Look, I don’t know why you’re so nervous. You like him, he likes you, it’s been exhausting watching you two dance around each other for years now.” Riley shook her head as soon as the words left Maya’s mouth.

“He doesn’t like me, Maya. I’m pretty sure he likes Missy Bradford and while I am not her biggest fan, I want him to be happy.” Riley’s heart ached in her chest a little bit at those words. She wasn’t totally sure what Lucas and Missy’s relationship was, but she had seen them talking more than once in the hallways and Riley wouldn’t blame Lucas if he liked Missy. They had reached the Gryffindor common room by now and Riley really wanted this conversation to be over.

“Lucas does not like Missy Bradford trust me.” Maya rolled her eyes again and Riley merely shrugged, holding her book to her chest and biting her lip. She wanted to believe that and believe that Lucas liked her, but it was just hard for her to believe it. “I have to get to practice, but don’t stress yourself out too much, Riles.” Maya tapped Riley’s shoulder and disappeared into the common room, leaving Riley alone in the hallway.

…

year four

Riley had been sitting in the hospital wing for almost two whole days now, her legs were tired, desperate to be used, but Riley couldn’t bring herself to go anywhere besides the great hall, her dorm and her classes. It had been two days since Lucas had taken the fall off his broom and he had yet to wake up and she fully planned on being here when he did. Things had been off between them lately, and Riley was unsure what exactly had gotten them there, but the minute he had slipped from his broom, she had thrown all that out the window.

She reflected back to when it seemed like things had shifted, and it seemed like it was right around the time of the Yule Ball. She originally had thought maybe she would go with Lucas, but when Charlie had asked her, she had a hard time turning him down. Following the dance, her and Charlie started spending more time together and while she would hardly say he’s her boyfriend by any means, he’s a nice boy and she enjoys spending time with him.

But, Lucas was also a nice boy and she liked spending time with him too.

Taking a shaky breath, she looked at Lucas, his eyes closed and his skin still looking a little pale and clammy. She knew it wouldn’t be long before they woke up him and she was anxious to see him for real again, and be able to talk to him. It had been too long since they had had a real conversation with each other. Sitting forward in her chair, she grabbed his hand and gave it a light squeeze, not wanting to let go.

She had been so scared seeing him get hit, she had been watching him the entire game, immediately taking notice of his lack of goggles, a bad idea with the amount of rain. She knew that she had promised Charlie to watch him and cheer him on in his quest for the snitch, but her heart was too dead set on making sure that Lucas made it through the game alright. So when she saw the bludger come out nowhere and knock him right off his broom, she was on her feet in an instant.

The minute that they had allowed her to see him, she vowed that she wasn’t going to leave his side until he was alright again. They had been acting weird around each other for too long for no good reason, he was one of her best friends and she was not going to let things be weird between them anymore. Other people had flowed in and out of the hospital wing, Maya and Zay were almost as frequent as she was, but Riley was a constant.

She used her other hand to stroke back his hair, smiling sadly to herself. Her heart had been beating erratically ever since Lucas had fallen, but when she touched his forehead, her heart was practically soaring. Something she was definitely not used to. Leaning forward she pressed a soft kiss to the top of his head, blushing when she looked around to see if anyone saw her.

Leaning back in her chair, she playing with his fingers, waiting patiently for him to awaken once more.

…

“Thanks again for studying with me, Riles. I always do so much better when we study together.” Lucas said once they were situated at the willow tree, their books scattered around them. She gave him a soft smile, leaning back against the tree.

“I knew you were only using me for my notes.” She teased, bumping him with her shoulder. He laughed and the sound vibrated through her body and she smirked slightly to herself. “So, how are things going with Missy?”

She saw him straighten slightly at her question and as soon as she noticed his discomfort, she suddenly felt a little guilty about asking. While she didn’t necessarily think Maya was lying earlier, she wanted to hear from Lucas himself about what was happening with Missy.

“There’s not really anything happening between me and Missy.” Riley nodded, thinking back to a couple of weeks ago on the monthly trip to Hogsmeade.

…

year six

“Maya, I don’t know what to do!” Riley exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air as her and her best friend walked side by side down the crowded streets of Hogsmeade. Maya eyed her slightly and Riley merely scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “Are you trying to imply that I’m being overdramatic?”

“You’re always being overdramatic.” Maya said with a affectionate laugh, putting her arm around Riley’s shoulder and leading her towards the Three Broomsticks. “Now, let’s talk about this Lucas problem over a couple of butterbeers alright.”

“Alright, fine.” Riley remarking, allowing Maya to lead her in the direction of the pub. Riley hardly ever went in here when she was in Hogsmeade, preferring the shops and scenery to the atmosphere of the Three Broomsticks, but she did have a soft spot for butterbeer. As soon as she swung open the door however, her stomach dropped.

There, in the corner of the pub, in a dark booth, was Lucas.

Now, this alone would be a problem, as he was currently the subject of Riley’s dilemma. She had been feeling weird butterflies around him and her heart had been beating faster and she needed Maya to help her through it. But, he wasn’t alone. Missy Bradford was next to him, a smile on her face, and a matching one on his.

“Riles.” Maya squeezed her arm, obviously seeing what Riley had noticed right away. “You okay?” Riley willed herself not to cry, not here, not now.

“I’m fine Maya, but I’m suddenly not thirsty, can we go.” Maya simply nodded, taking Riley’s hand and together they walked hand and hand out of the pub and back onto the crowded streets. Luckily, Maya dropped the subject and didn’t ask about it and Riley spent the rest of the afternoon, trying to think of anything but the sight of the two of them together.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want Lucas to be happy, because she did. It was just, why did it have to be her? Missy who had teased Riley since the day they met, of course Riley had refrained from ever telling any of her friends that, so Lucas had no idea. All she knew is that the sight of them together made her heart sink and created a hole in her stomach that she didn’t know how to get rid of.

She saw Missy and Lucas together a couple more times over the course of the next few weeks, most times they were talking in the great hall or standing together in the hallway. They were never doing anything that hinted they were together, but the sight of them alone was always enough to turn her in the opposite direction.

…

“Oh, I just, noticed you guys were spending a lot of time together, that’s all.” Riley said with a shrug, embarrassed now that she had even asked. A silence fell over them then, they both picked through their notes, exchanging books wordlessly as they did so. This was routine for them by now, they were each other’s favorite study partner, and they did this every single time exams rolled around.

“There’s a reason there’s nothing happening between me and Missy.” Lucas said about fifteen minutes later, looking up from his potions notes. Riley’s eyes widened in surprised, the pages of her transfiguration book rustling in the wind as she closed it to look at him. He shrugged once they made eye contact, suddenly looking like he didn’t want to talk about it anymore.

“Why?” She asked softly, moving closer to him, their shoulders were practically touching now and she could hear his breath. He smiled sadly at her, biting his lip and looking almost contemplative as she said his next words.

“You.” There was a moment where Riley considered pinching herself, because this almost felt like it wasn’t happening. It almost seemed like the entire area had gone silent around them, the wind still and the birds quiet, the only noise she could hear was her heartbeat echoing in her ear.

“Why would I be a reason that nothing could happen between you and Missy?” Her voice was soft and she refused to make eye contact, instead focusing on a loose string on her robes. She heard him sigh, becoming nervous once more.

“Because, I really like you Riley.” Immediately her eyes snapped up to meet his, she had never seen him look at her like this before and a warmth pooling in her stomach as she smiled softly.

“I really like you too, Lucas.” She said, and he smiled and gosh, the sight melted her heart more than any other smile she had ever seen in her life. “It took me a really long time to realize it, but I think the first moment I really knew that my feelings for you were deeper than I originally thought was when you were in the hospital wing, 4th year, after the quidditch incident.” Lucas winced at the mention of the event that ended his quidditch career, but then he smiled, taking her hand in his and squeezed it slightly.

“I’ve liked you since the minute we met, I think.” She grins, her heart doing flips in her chest. “I didn’t really realize it until we were third years, and I saw you laughing about something over at the Hufflepuff table and it just hit me, that I guess I wanted to be the person that always made you laugh.” The way he speaks is so earnest that she can’t help but let out a little giggle, which only makes his smile grow wider.

“I had no idea.” She says, blushing, looking down at her robes again. She feels bad now, he had liked her for that long, no wonder he had acted so weird about Charlie taking her to the Yule Ball.

“It’s okay.” He squeezes her hand and she grins. “I thought that I had lost you to Charlie though, and then I spent all of fifth year being down on myself, and you were there for me, through all of that. But nothing ever seemed like it was going to happen.” He shrugs again, beginning to play with her fingers, which sends her stomach into butterflies. “I guess, by the time Missy started flirting with me, I had kinda given up on us ever happening, so I figured I would give it a shot. I just never felt anything for her.”

Riley doesn’t even know how to process some of what he just said, but she doesn’t care, because this is the happiest she’s felt in weeks and all she wants to do now is kiss him and never let go of his hand as long as she lives.

“When I started realizing I liked you, I thought you didn’t like me back. I was just so insecure about myself, and then when everything happened with Missy, I just saw myself as not as good as her. I didn’t think I could compete with someone like her.” Riley has never been so open about her insecurities before, but Lucas has always made her feel safe.

“You never have to compete with anyone like her, Riley. Or anyone in general. You’re amazing.” This time, she can’t help it, she leans over and presses her lips against his, catching him slightly off guard, but he responds, kissing her back, and she can feel his lips forming a smile against hers.

“You’re pretty amazing too Lucas, and honestly, most of the reason that things ended with Charlie was because as great of a guy as he is, I didn’t feel nearly as much for him as I do you.” She smiles and settles back down next to him, her hand staying firm in his. He leans over and kisses her cheek, which makes her blush and they smile at each other before falling back into their comfortable silence.

“Hey Riles.” She looks at him, and he’s got a fond smile on his face that she definitely could get used to seeing. “I’m really glad I ran into you in the hallway.”

She smiles, “So am I.”

[freefallersunite]

Lavender & Violence

By Chanelle Coates

  Violet felt things very deeply. On the one hand, she oculd not envision a life free from strong emotions, on the other, it was often difficult to fall asleep at night or function soundly during the day. She wondered what it would be like to fall in love. It was already a descent that made normal people less acquainted with their sanity. What would it possibly do to her?

She wondered this in the mornings when she swished spearmint mouthwash and spat into the sink. She wondered on the city bus as she rode down to campus. Sometimes her heart felt like it would burst from happiness when she listened to a new song. What on Earth would happen if a boy’s lips brushed near her ear and whispered her name and what would her heart do if they travelled to her mouth and made contact there? She pondered this foreign subject often but she never did so more than when she was in her Novelist’s of Canada class.

Logan sat in the seat next to hers, and by default they would often pair up when they had to do in class assignments. The cleverly crafted questions posed on the sheets by their teacher were either absurd or absurdly difficult. They would be stuck on number one for a year and then make a team decision to skip it. Then they would laugh together because the next question was structured exactly the same way. Laughing was a curious bridge; it connected two people together and contracted, pulling the riverbanks closer together. Each time Logan laughed, she was surprised she didn’t fall to the floor and die a most blissful death. But she managed to remain on upright on her chair and watched the irises of his eyes spin around fast like vinyl records, lit up with a hazel light. But they always laughed about the class material; it was never a personal joke. She craved something that went below this surface camaraderie.

Each night she wished on eleven eleven that they would go on a tangent. She begged the flat red numbers of her alarm clock to teleport into his heart and inspire him to get to know her. Then she would take the miniature glass bottle on her dresser and sprinkle her pillowcase with lavender drops. She climbed into bed and took deep inhalations. On the exhale small fractions of her stress would escape through the crack under her door and it would wait for her in the hallway until the next morning. One night, after performing this ritual, she slipped into the alternate consciousness of sleep and was standing in a field of lavender. The moon shone and when she looked up all the stars began falling out the sky. Suddenly, she was standing on a lake of light. Then she dove in and the rest of her night was dreamless.

The next morning, Violet drank from the water bottle by her bed and got dressed in an outfit she has never worn in public. She decided that if she didn’t step outside her comfort zone a little more, she wouldn’t age well. She would be sporting flat gray hair and a miserable scowl soon enough. She was young but she wasn’t stupid. A year would pass, and then five, then that five would turn into thirty. She grabbed a mason jar that had been sitting on her desk for a few days and unscrewed the lid. It was a spontaneous moment of inspiration but she figured it was worth a shot. She opened her bedroom door and at once the mist of stress and fear rose up from the floor and flew at her with the intention of entering through her pores. But she was agile and held the jar in front of her like a weapon, scooping the enemy and imprisoning it with the cap. She made sure it was tightly sealed and shoved it into her underwear drawer. With that out of the way and some newfound force in her muscles, she went to do her makeup.

She looked at the final product: her eyebrows were soft brown perfection and something about the red leggings and cropped hoodie made her waste look like a beacon and her teeth look like new porcelain. Violet ate her cereal and then took the city bus to school, floating on her chair the whole way down. She couldn’t wait to see Logan. It was near the end of the semester and if she was going to make a connection, today would have to be the day.

But the class came around at 11:30 and although she had had the best intentions, she couldn’t bring herself to ask those dumb questions she had prepared all morning. “How was your weekend?” “Whoa, I really like your sweater, where’d you get it from? Oh sweet, yea handmade things are always the best!” When he walked in and sat next to her, she tried to speak but the hesitation delayed her and then the teacher started talking. As seconds and minutes trickled by, each occasion felt less like an opportunity. She thought she would sound stupid or fake. Why would she ask him things like this on the very last day when she hadn’t done so all semester? It’s as if the purple mist could teleport. A glass jar was perhaps insufficient when it was so used to being in her head and chest. It found it’s way back to her so fast she hadn’t noticed until it was heavy and there.

 “I’m hoping to have the grades posted in two weeks time. No promises though! Now get outta here.” The professor dismissed them and that was it. No relationship with Logan. Barely even a friendship. This is what all her daydreams had amounted to: absolutely nothing.

But then something happened. He opened the door for her. This was the first ttime it was obvious. No holding the door while walking out and not really looking back. No question of whether it was for her or someone else. He opened it, smiled and let her walk through. She was so happy that a gust of wind unhooked fifteen maple leaves from their branches. They fell down like confetti.

“Thanks. By the way I really like your sweater.” She knew it sounded little rushed but she made herself do it quickly before she could back down.

“Thanks! My grandmother knit it for me actually.”

“Cool! Handmade is always the best.”

They had a small conversation and even though they didn’t discuss much, she couldn’t believe it was happening. It was a little nerve-racking but all in all it went well. Why had she fallen in love with this guy the second she met him and paint him out to be some kind of god? She had glorified his looks and convinced herself that he was unattainable to the point where she could hardly speak. A person wasn’t supposed to be attained. But this was not impossible, this was-

“Hey do you want to exchange numbers?”

“Oh! Ya, sure.”

A day later he texted her “Hey, how’s it going?”. A week later they wee on their first date. Logan knocked on her apartment door at 7 o’clock and she could hear it from the bathroom. The mirror was so shiny in this moment that she wondered if it was made of crystal. She could see every one of her flaws but she could also see her sheer red lip and the little curls near the nape of her neck. She took everything in and then a deep breath. She laced up her shoes, completely aware that he could see her through the window pane. And then she made her hand open the door, a door to a world full of color and violence. It threatened her constant practice of taking deep inhalations and smelling lavender. It was a world full of anxiety but also of greater possibilities and that’s what made it worth it. From behind his back, Logan handed her a blue cup with a straw instead of a bouquet.

“What’s that?” she asked.

“Liquid luck.”

“So alcohol then?”

“Vodka to be precise.”

“And you just want me to drink that and trust that you haven’t done anything to it?”

“Violet you can do whatever you want.”

For better or worse, she thought “fuck it”. She sipped once and then took his outstretched hand. Things were happening so fast but they were good and she didn’t want them to stop. He led her across the road to the bus stop, letting go of her hand to fish change out of the back pocket of his jeans.

“Are we taking the bus anywhere?”

“Kind of.” he answered, grinning.

“What do you mean kind of?” But he only answered with another smile.

“Ah. There it is.” he said, indicating the bus with a glance up the hill. Her handed her $3, 25 and when the massive prism came rolling to a halt he let her get on first. Then he put his hand on her back and guided her to the end of the bus.

“So…” Logan took a sip from the cup then gave it to her and she did the same. “I was thinking you could tell me all your favorite things because one I’m curious and two so that I can be better equipped. For example, knowing your favorite flower would help with that. How’s that sound?” He raised his eyebrows and Violet could hardly understand how attractive he was.

“That sounds good but on one condition.”

“What’s that?” he asked, amused.

“You’ve got to tell me all your favorite things too.” She was glad that this playfulness was coming easily to her. These quick sentences were popping into her head like gifts and she genuinely wanted to know more about him, so that helped.

“Okay deal. Tulips.”

“Your favorite flower?” she laughed.

“Hey! They remind me of when I went to Europe. Yours?”

“Yellow roses. They remind me of my grandmother’s garden in the summertime.”

“Lovely. Okay, what’s your favorite season?”

“Spring.” She looked at him expectantly.

“Summer, for sure.”

They continued like this for some time and Violet forgot to look out the windows to figure out where they were headed. In fact, she was having so much fun she didn’t even care if they got off the bus. After about fifty minutes, Logan stood and so she did too. They got off and when it grew apparent that they were waiting for another bus, she asked him “Logan, is your idea of a first date Smirnoff and 2 hours of public transport?”

“You forgot the favorite game and the getting to know each other! And I prefer to think of it as riding city buses at night with a very beautiful girl. It sounds nicer. Is this a subpar first date?”

“No. No actually it’s the best date I’ve ever been on. Granted, the only date. But the best by far!” At this they laughed and looked at one another for a long moment which faded out their laughter and everything else. Violet looked at his face and took everything in, her gaze resting on his lips last. In due time, his mouth was pressed against hers. She felt like this was the singular best place in the world. Forget Paris or the Grand Canyon or Rome. This place with him was all three of those and more. There were stars in her head and oceans in her stomach, prairie fields in her chest. She had never felt like this before; the was no slight desire to be anywhere else but there.

Another bus rolled up beside them and its noise made them pull away. His smile confirmed that he enjoyed this place as much as she did.

One morning, about a month later, Violet woke up without her alarm clock. Instead she had given herself the gentle liberty of sleeping in and letting the sunlight wake her up. The purple entity had been acting weird lately. She knew it was always there, ready to pounce but… it simply hadn’t. After getting over the initial fear of talking to Logan, their interactions were simply fun and meaningful and there was little time to worry.

She got out of bed and warmed up with a shower. As she lathered yellow shampoo gel into her scalp, YouTube sung songs to her. The melodies were conducive to particular imagery in her head. His eyes and his face close to hers. His hands and the sound of his breath catching. They were supposed to go to the Christmas-themed fireworks in the park that night and it would be a long day waiting for him to pick her up.

Violet told herself she would do some reading until then but her mind was untamable. Instead she chose outfits and did laundry. She tried on clothes and blasted music from her color-changing i-Home in order to make the purple mist cower under her bed. She felt like her Logan were getting closer and closer and she found herself wanting him more and more. She didn’t know how far things would go later.

At the fireworks, Logan stood behind her and both his and her hands were in Violet’s mittens because he had forgotten his own. Everyone’s breath rose up in the air like they were all collaborating to create a fog machine. Then the first crack sounded and colors began bursting. For minutes, green, red, silver, gold and blue were jumping, twisting and raining in the sky. Both children and adults gasped and after about seven minutes, Violet realized something: it was like she had jumped off a cliff in a cartoon. She was suspended in the air for some moments, but as soon as she realized she was going to fall, she plummeted. She was falling in love fast and hard with this boy an she couldn’t do anything to stop it or lessen the impact. A massive purple firework exploded in the sky but she closed her eyes. She turned around and kissed him deeply and then said “Race you to the car!” Without questioning her he began sprinting and they flew under trees and around part of the lake, up the hill to the parking lot.

Logan reached the car first and announced his victory. “I beat you!” he exclaimed, panting.

“That’s cause I gave you a head start!”

“Are you kidding? You started running before me!”

Violet ran to him and jumped into his arms, kissing him.

 “Let’s go to my apartment Logan.” It was the most agonizing five minute car ride of her life.

They ran up to her room, shedding their outerwear here and there on the stairs. A winter boot went flying into the wall and bounced onto the landing. Everything outside the room simply ceased to exist. She hardly knew where to put her hands because she wanted to put them everywhere. And she did.

The next morning, they didn’t have the chance to lay in bed and absorb the fact that they had sex. All Violet wanted to do was rest in his arms and breathe slowly. Instead, Logan’s phone rang and she could hear the person on the other end crying, his mother likely. He jumped up and dressed within seconds.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“I gotta go. Sorry but I gotta go.”

She darted to the front window and watched his red car pull out of the driveway and speed down the road. It was like watching fire travel down a line of gasoline. She knew something was wrong with his family and she felt paralyzed that he hadn’t taken three seconds to tell her what it was. She flicked on her bedroom light and to her shock the whole room was bathed in purple. The bulb had been changed in the night.

All day she agonized over what to do. Be a supportive girlfriend and drive over to his house? What if he just wanted to be with his family? What if he didn’t want to be held? She would probably embarrass herself in the process of trying to comfort him. She wouldn’t know what to say. What if someone he loved died? How could she be thinking of herself right now? But no matter how much she tried to force herself to be a supportive girlfriend, to be a decent human, she could not escape this paralysis. The purple mist was coiling around her throat and solidifying all week. Violet did not text him, call him, or see him. She did not reach out and help the person she loved because she felt like anything she did would fall short. And so she shut herself into her room and breathed purple air, suffocating from her own inadequacy.

It took a whole year before she stopped feeling ashamed and lovesick. All four seasons had to pass before she could accept that she had failed someone on such a level and that that needn’t define her forever. She had regretted ever opening up to another person, ever thinking she could outsmart the purple for one second. She scolded herself for being so foolish.

But then after another year, she went to the swimming pool and couldn’t help but notice the lifeguard. She realized she was going to try again, despite past pain and regardless of how many times she swore she would never be fooled twice. She smiled at the lifeguard while walking by him and dove into the purple pool.

[hairstyle1453-blog]

50 Ridiculous Haircuts

New Post has been published on http://girlsbesthairstyle.com/50-ridiculous-haircuts/

50 Ridiculous Haircuts

ADVERTISEMENT

Hairstyle trends come and go. Some are more sophisticated than others. While some of these ridiculous haircuts are absurd, others might work in the right setting. Don’t let us tell you how you should wear your hair. The world will notice your self-confidence if you’re not afraid to flaunt a crazy style.

Bright Sideburns

Got sideburns? You can dye them with bright colors. Show off the dye job by slicking your hair back with gel. The wet look will turn heads, and you can always wear your hair down to hide the color.

Rolled Long Beehive

If you want an ornate hairdo without the updo, loop 1-inch sections of hair individually. Secure them underneath with hairpins, tucking the ends under as you move down the length. It’s like a French braid on crack.

Mermaid For Men

We’re not quite sure what to call this. Maybe the fish-scale look is popular on some remote island. When you see this from farther away, it probably looks much better. It’s like an impressionist painting. However, this is an example of how texture might work for you in the right setting.

Bumblebee Stripes

You can probably reproduce this style yourself. There is nothing blended about this highlighted look. Solid chunks of light color are perfectly spaced for a bold and buzzworthy head of hair. This is a strong look that might be ideal for your sense of style.

The Hair Bow

Can’t find an accessory? Use your hair to create a bow shape. You’ll look like a gift that’s ready to be unwrapped.

Braid Undecided

Can’t decide what type of braid to create? Make them all. Just place a rubber band between each section. This is a fun and interesting look, and it gives you a chance to practice your braiding technique. A uniform braid might look a little sleeker, though.

Shaved Braids

This style just looks painful. Shave one side and braid the rest. You’ll probably have to shave your whole head to get them out anyway.

Put A Ring On It

Accessorizing your hair isn’t anything new. Still, these Mickey-mouse space buns dotted with rings look a little silly.

Blown-Out Bouffant

What’s worse than one ridiculous haircut? Two of them. This one is a little too tall to realistically last all day. It’s a little like the popular pompadour, but we’re hearing a lot of ‘80s music in the background.

Side Bang Mohawk

Maybe if this Mohawk was a little more faded, it would just be cool. The transition looks a little too much like fringe for our liking. The blunt edge along the side would look amazing if it were more tapered.

Truffula Tree

Thing one and thing two called. They want their hairstyles back. The man bun is popular these days. Some people love it, and some people hate it. This version is a little too splashy for our liking.

Extensions Gone Bad

When you can’t afford to pay for extensions at the salon, just tie a ring into the back of your head. You can hang the rest of your hair off of the ring and remove it when you want to return to your shorter cut. This look kind of freaks us out. It looks like something important is missing.

Fuzzy Wuzzy Was A Bear

This mullet forgot the part about business in front. This might compete with Trump’s hairstyle as one of the most ridiculous haircuts ever.

Triple-Layer Trifle

When you can’t decide how to color your hair, just divide it up. Layer it like a sundae. Make sure to heavily spray those enormous curls. Don’t forget the cherry on top, though.

Bedhead Gone Bad

Even celebrities have bad hair days. This is a dramatic take on the messy bun. Rihanna normally has beautifully styled tresses, but she must have just rolled out of bed.

Helmet Hair

This haircut certainly has smooth and sleek going for it. It looks like you’d have to make friends with your round brush and hair dryer to pull this off.

Mohawk Extreme

You’d need to be in a place with no wind and no humidity to have success with this style. Maybe it would work in outer space. It’s incredibly impressive. You can put up your own Mohawk or Liberty spikes if you have the time and the skill.

Lady Mullet

We are fans of short, choppy hair. We want to love the edginess of this style. We just can’t get over the contrast from the front to the back. Maybe if the fringe in the front was just a tad softer or the layers in the back were straighter, this haircut would work better.

Colorful Mouse Ears

Earth to whoever is listening. This one has great color, but the style is tough to pull off. The space ears look like antennae, especially with the crazy hue. If you have the right attitude, you can probably wear this style, however.

Black-And-White Braid

One side of the hair is jet black. The other side is pure white. There’s definitely a Cruella De Vil vibe going on here. It’s bold, and the braid emphasizes the contrast. However, this has to be a tough color scheme to keep up with. Once the roots grow in, you have yet another color to deal with.

Viking Chic

Do you get some kind of prize if you can recreate this style? The hair itself looks like some kind of trophy.

Circle Of Fun

This style will have your mind going in circles. It transforms your head into a giant pacifier. You’d have fun at a picnic, though. You could use the hoop to toss beanbags through or to make a target for Frisbee golf.

Woolly Beehive

Can’t get your beehive to stay up? Tie your hair around a ball of stuffing. You can make friends with the sheep.

Swirled 

A rose by any other name isn’t always a rose. Although this one is rich with beauty, it’s a little over the top. This looks pristine now, but imagine what it might look like at the end of the night. This hairstyle probably doesn’t lend itself well to a night of dancing. With a few hairs out of place, it probably just looks like a giant knot on top of the head.

Fierce Braids

You’d probably have this look in this face too if your hair was pulled this tightly. The combination of braids and softness is like an art form. However, it doesn’t look very comfortable.

Under The Sea

The scalloped edges of this design belong somewhere on the sand. It’s so stylized that it no longer looks like hair.

Cone Head

How long would your hair have to be to build it up this high? Don’t even get us started on those shoulder pads.

Horse Hair

This is certainly a horse of a different color. The artistry is quite skillful. We’re just not sure we’d want this on our heads.

Most Complicated

It must take more than ten fingers to weave these complicated braids. There’s something soothing about the repetitive pattern, though.

Reverse Buzz Cut

Haven’t you always wanted eyes in the back of your head? This gives a whole new meaning to the term two-faced. We wouldn’t want to be standing behind this guy; we would have the strange feeling that we were being watched.

Helicopter Head

Take off on a hairstyle journey by adding propellers. Just don’t spin them if you don’t want your hair to end up in a knot.

Creep Factor

We’re ok with spiders. We just don’t like thinking that they might be stuck in our hair. At least you wouldn’t see the spider on your head unless you looked in a mirror.

You Say Tomato 

I say tomahto. However, it’s also possible that this is a strawberry. What do you think?

The Lizard

“I would like a rainbow-colored chameleon on my head,” said no one ever, except maybe this guy.

Hat Head

If your hat is always leaving an indentation on your hairstyle, flaunt it. Just cut outside of the boundaries of the hat and voila. You never have to worry about it ruining your hair again.

The Violin

Forget boho style. This is the perfect updo for a music festival. Make sweet music with your hairstyle.

Woven

Weave yourself a basket. Just do it on your head. This hairstyle has a beautiful sculptural quality. It doesn’t look very convenient, though. It doesn’t even seem like this basket would be useful for holding anything.

Poofy Mullet

If all you see in the mirror is the front, why bother styling the back? Spend all of your time getting the front as meticulous as it is in this hairstyle.

Ride The Wave

The style and the color have inherent allure. It’s just not a very practical look. In fact, it doesn’t look like it uses any hair pins to stay in place.

Rollers In Your Hair

It looks like this woman forgot to remove the tools that she used to create this style. It also looks like she used quite a lot of different tools. Some of them might have been power tools, actually.

Whale Spout

This crimped yellow monstrosity is exploding off the top of this guy’s head. Do you think he notices?

Beard On Top

Too bad you didn’t have this haircut in grade school so that you could fool all the teachers into thinking you were doing work while you were napping. Why isn’t this considered one of the top short men’s hairstyles?

Pineapple Style

This cut is enough to make you want a piña colada. If you want a more permanent solution, you can just bleach your buzz cut.

Vampire Pixie

The short bob gets edgy with a gelled widow’s peak. Don’t let the wind get to this haircut, or it will completely lose its edge.

Hair Tapestries

These hair tapestries are actually a really cool alternative to those hair wraps that look like friendship bracelets. They’re really colorful, and they don’t look that hard to apply if you have help. We’re just not sure how you’d get them out without chopping off your hair.

The Perfect Pouf 

Get your hair to stand on end with the perfect amount of teasing and a few bottles of hairspray. We can’t believe this was a style worn by school-age girls. Who has that much time to do their hair before the bus comes?

Heavy Metal

Ouch. There’s not much more to say. Imagine how heavy this would feel on your head. We don’t want to know what would happen if you spent too much time in the sun.

The Literal Rat Tail

As if a regular rat tail wasn’t bad enough, this one is enough to make you scream.

‘90s Grunge

Remember when it was cool to look like you never showered? Even the hottest celebrities were doing it.

Back Fringe

Excuse me, sir. You missed a spot. This cut would be great if you tend to forget to put sunscreen on the back of your neck.

The Bottom Line

A new haircut might take some getting used to. However, if your stylist gives you one of these ridiculous haircuts, you might be allowed to ask for a free shave.

50 Ridiculous Haircuts

[hairstyle1453-blog]

50 Ridiculous Haircuts

New Post has been published on http://girlsbesthairstyle.com/50-ridiculous-haircuts/

50 Ridiculous Haircuts

ADVERTISEMENT

Hairstyle trends come and go. Some are more sophisticated than others. While some of these ridiculous haircuts are absurd, others might work in the right setting. Don’t let us tell you how you should wear your hair. The world will notice your self-confidence if you’re not afraid to flaunt a crazy style.

Bright Sideburns

Got sideburns? You can dye them with bright colors. Show off the dye job by slicking your hair back with gel. The wet look will turn heads, and you can always wear your hair down to hide the color.

Rolled Long Beehive

If you want an ornate hairdo without the updo, loop 1-inch sections of hair individually. Secure them underneath with hairpins, tucking the ends under as you move down the length. It’s like a French braid on crack.

Mermaid For Men

We’re not quite sure what to call this. Maybe the fish-scale look is popular on some remote island. When you see this from farther away, it probably looks much better. It’s like an impressionist painting. However, this is an example of how texture might work for you in the right setting.

Bumblebee Stripes

You can probably reproduce this style yourself. There is nothing blended about this highlighted look. Solid chunks of light color are perfectly spaced for a bold and buzzworthy head of hair. This is a strong look that might be ideal for your sense of style.

The Hair Bow

Can’t find an accessory? Use your hair to create a bow shape. You’ll look like a gift that’s ready to be unwrapped.

Braid Undecided

Can’t decide what type of braid to create? Make them all. Just place a rubber band between each section. This is a fun and interesting look, and it gives you a chance to practice your braiding technique. A uniform braid might look a little sleeker, though.

Shaved Braids

This style just looks painful. Shave one side and braid the rest. You’ll probably have to shave your whole head to get them out anyway.

Put A Ring On It

Accessorizing your hair isn’t anything new. Still, these Mickey-mouse space buns dotted with rings look a little silly.

Blown-Out Bouffant

What’s worse than one ridiculous haircut? Two of them. This one is a little too tall to realistically last all day. It’s a little like the popular pompadour, but we’re hearing a lot of ‘80s music in the background.

Side Bang Mohawk

Maybe if this Mohawk was a little more faded, it would just be cool. The transition looks a little too much like fringe for our liking. The blunt edge along the side would look amazing if it were more tapered.

Truffula Tree

Thing one and thing two called. They want their hairstyles back. The man bun is popular these days. Some people love it, and some people hate it. This version is a little too splashy for our liking.

Extensions Gone Bad

When you can’t afford to pay for extensions at the salon, just tie a ring into the back of your head. You can hang the rest of your hair off of the ring and remove it when you want to return to your shorter cut. This look kind of freaks us out. It looks like something important is missing.

Fuzzy Wuzzy Was A Bear

This mullet forgot the part about business in front. This might compete with Trump’s hairstyle as one of the most ridiculous haircuts ever.

Triple-Layer Trifle

When you can’t decide how to color your hair, just divide it up. Layer it like a sundae. Make sure to heavily spray those enormous curls. Don’t forget the cherry on top, though.

Bedhead Gone Bad

Even celebrities have bad hair days. This is a dramatic take on the messy bun. Rihanna normally has beautifully styled tresses, but she must have just rolled out of bed.

Helmet Hair

This haircut certainly has smooth and sleek going for it. It looks like you’d have to make friends with your round brush and hair dryer to pull this off.

Mohawk Extreme

You’d need to be in a place with no wind and no humidity to have success with this style. Maybe it would work in outer space. It’s incredibly impressive. You can put up your own Mohawk or Liberty spikes if you have the time and the skill.

Lady Mullet

We are fans of short, choppy hair. We want to love the edginess of this style. We just can’t get over the contrast from the front to the back. Maybe if the fringe in the front was just a tad softer or the layers in the back were straighter, this haircut would work better.

Colorful Mouse Ears

Earth to whoever is listening. This one has great color, but the style is tough to pull off. The space ears look like antennae, especially with the crazy hue. If you have the right attitude, you can probably wear this style, however.

Black-And-White Braid

One side of the hair is jet black. The other side is pure white. There’s definitely a Cruella De Vil vibe going on here. It’s bold, and the braid emphasizes the contrast. However, this has to be a tough color scheme to keep up with. Once the roots grow in, you have yet another color to deal with.

Viking Chic

Do you get some kind of prize if you can recreate this style? The hair itself looks like some kind of trophy.

Circle Of Fun

This style will have your mind going in circles. It transforms your head into a giant pacifier. You’d have fun at a picnic, though. You could use the hoop to toss beanbags through or to make a target for Frisbee golf.

Woolly Beehive

Can’t get your beehive to stay up? Tie your hair around a ball of stuffing. You can make friends with the sheep.

Swirled 

A rose by any other name isn’t always a rose. Although this one is rich with beauty, it’s a little over the top. This looks pristine now, but imagine what it might look like at the end of the night. This hairstyle probably doesn’t lend itself well to a night of dancing. With a few hairs out of place, it probably just looks like a giant knot on top of the head.

Fierce Braids

You’d probably have this look in this face too if your hair was pulled this tightly. The combination of braids and softness is like an art form. However, it doesn’t look very comfortable.

Under The Sea

The scalloped edges of this design belong somewhere on the sand. It’s so stylized that it no longer looks like hair.

Cone Head

How long would your hair have to be to build it up this high? Don’t even get us started on those shoulder pads.

Horse Hair

This is certainly a horse of a different color. The artistry is quite skillful. We’re just not sure we’d want this on our heads.

Most Complicated

It must take more than ten fingers to weave these complicated braids. There’s something soothing about the repetitive pattern, though.

Reverse Buzz Cut

Haven’t you always wanted eyes in the back of your head? This gives a whole new meaning to the term two-faced. We wouldn’t want to be standing behind this guy; we would have the strange feeling that we were being watched.

Helicopter Head

Take off on a hairstyle journey by adding propellers. Just don’t spin them if you don’t want your hair to end up in a knot.

Creep Factor

We’re ok with spiders. We just don’t like thinking that they might be stuck in our hair. At least you wouldn’t see the spider on your head unless you looked in a mirror.

You Say Tomato 

I say tomahto. However, it’s also possible that this is a strawberry. What do you think?

The Lizard

“I would like a rainbow-colored chameleon on my head,” said no one ever, except maybe this guy.

Hat Head

If your hat is always leaving an indentation on your hairstyle, flaunt it. Just cut outside of the boundaries of the hat and voila. You never have to worry about it ruining your hair again.

The Violin

Forget boho style. This is the perfect updo for a music festival. Make sweet music with your hairstyle.

Woven

Weave yourself a basket. Just do it on your head. This hairstyle has a beautiful sculptural quality. It doesn’t look very convenient, though. It doesn���t even seem like this basket would be useful for holding anything.

Poofy Mullet

If all you see in the mirror is the front, why bother styling the back? Spend all of your time getting the front as meticulous as it is in this hairstyle.

Ride The Wave

The style and the color have inherent allure. It’s just not a very practical look. In fact, it doesn’t look like it uses any hair pins to stay in place.

Rollers In Your Hair

It looks like this woman forgot to remove the tools that she used to create this style. It also looks like she used quite a lot of different tools. Some of them might have been power tools, actually.

Whale Spout

This crimped yellow monstrosity is exploding off the top of this guy’s head. Do you think he notices?

Beard On Top

Too bad you didn’t have this haircut in grade school so that you could fool all the teachers into thinking you were doing work while you were napping. Why isn’t this considered one of the top short men’s hairstyles?

Pineapple Style

This cut is enough to make you want a piña colada. If you want a more permanent solution, you can just bleach your buzz cut.

Vampire Pixie

The short bob gets edgy with a gelled widow’s peak. Don’t let the wind get to this haircut, or it will completely lose its edge.

Hair Tapestries

These hair tapestries are actually a really cool alternative to those hair wraps that look like friendship bracelets. They’re really colorful, and they don’t look that hard to apply if you have help. We’re just not sure how you’d get them out without chopping off your hair.

The Perfect Pouf 

Get your hair to stand on end with the perfect amount of teasing and a few bottles of hairspray. We can’t believe this was a style worn by school-age girls. Who has that much time to do their hair before the bus comes?

Heavy Metal

Ouch. There’s not much more to say. Imagine how heavy this would feel on your head. We don’t want to know what would happen if you spent too much time in the sun.

The Literal Rat Tail

As if a regular rat tail wasn’t bad enough, this one is enough to make you scream.

‘90s Grunge

Remember when it was cool to look like you never showered? Even the hottest celebrities were doing it.

Back Fringe

Excuse me, sir. You missed a spot. This cut would be great if you tend to forget to put sunscreen on the back of your neck.

The Bottom Line

A new haircut might take some getting used to. However, if your stylist gives you one of these ridiculous haircuts, you might be allowed to ask for a free shave.

50 Ridiculous Haircuts

[hairstyle1453-blog]

50 Ridiculous Haircuts

New Post has been published on http://girlsbesthairstyle.com/50-ridiculous-haircuts/

50 Ridiculous Haircuts

ADVERTISEMENT

Hairstyle trends come and go. Some are more sophisticated than others. While some of these ridiculous haircuts are absurd, others might work in the right setting. Don’t let us tell you how you should wear your hair. The world will notice your self-confidence if you’re not afraid to flaunt a crazy style.

Bright Sideburns

Got sideburns? You can dye them with bright colors. Show off the dye job by slicking your hair back with gel. The wet look will turn heads, and you can always wear your hair down to hide the color.

Rolled Long Beehive

If you want an ornate hairdo without the updo, loop 1-inch sections of hair individually. Secure them underneath with hairpins, tucking the ends under as you move down the length. It’s like a French braid on crack.

Mermaid For Men

We’re not quite sure what to call this. Maybe the fish-scale look is popular on some remote island. When you see this from farther away, it probably looks much better. It’s like an impressionist painting. However, this is an example of how texture might work for you in the right setting.

Bumblebee Stripes

You can probably reproduce this style yourself. There is nothing blended about this highlighted look. Solid chunks of light color are perfectly spaced for a bold and buzzworthy head of hair. This is a strong look that might be ideal for your sense of style.

The Hair Bow

Can’t find an accessory? Use your hair to create a bow shape. You’ll look like a gift that’s ready to be unwrapped.

Braid Undecided

Can’t decide what type of braid to create? Make them all. Just place a rubber band between each section. This is a fun and interesting look, and it gives you a chance to practice your braiding technique. A uniform braid might look a little sleeker, though.

Shaved Braids

This style just looks painful. Shave one side and braid the rest. You’ll probably have to shave your whole head to get them out anyway.

Put A Ring On It

Accessorizing your hair isn’t anything new. Still, these Mickey-mouse space buns dotted with rings look a little silly.

Blown-Out Bouffant

What’s worse than one ridiculous haircut? Two of them. This one is a little too tall to realistically last all day. It’s a little like the popular pompadour, but we’re hearing a lot of ‘80s music in the background.

Side Bang Mohawk

Maybe if this Mohawk was a little more faded, it would just be cool. The transition looks a little too much like fringe for our liking. The blunt edge along the side would look amazing if it were more tapered.

Truffula Tree

Thing one and thing two called. They want their hairstyles back. The man bun is popular these days. Some people love it, and some people hate it. This version is a little too splashy for our liking.

Extensions Gone Bad

When you can’t afford to pay for extensions at the salon, just tie a ring into the back of your head. You can hang the rest of your hair off of the ring and remove it when you want to return to your shorter cut. This look kind of freaks us out. It looks like something important is missing.

Fuzzy Wuzzy Was A Bear

This mullet forgot the part about business in front. This might compete with Trump’s hairstyle as one of the most ridiculous haircuts ever.

Triple-Layer Trifle

When you can’t decide how to color your hair, just divide it up. Layer it like a sundae. Make sure to heavily spray those enormous curls. Don’t forget the cherry on top, though.

Bedhead Gone Bad

Even celebrities have bad hair days. This is a dramatic take on the messy bun. Rihanna normally has beautifully styled tresses, but she must have just rolled out of bed.

Helmet Hair

This haircut certainly has smooth and sleek going for it. It looks like you’d have to make friends with your round brush and hair dryer to pull this off.

Mohawk Extreme

You’d need to be in a place with no wind and no humidity to have success with this style. Maybe it would work in outer space. It’s incredibly impressive. You can put up your own Mohawk or Liberty spikes if you have the time and the skill.

Lady Mullet

We are fans of short, choppy hair. We want to love the edginess of this style. We just can’t get over the contrast from the front to the back. Maybe if the fringe in the front was just a tad softer or the layers in the back were straighter, this haircut would work better.

Colorful Mouse Ears

Earth to whoever is listening. This one has great color, but the style is tough to pull off. The space ears look like antennae, especially with the crazy hue. If you have the right attitude, you can probably wear this style, however.

Black-And-White Braid

One side of the hair is jet black. The other side is pure white. There’s definitely a Cruella De Vil vibe going on here. It’s bold, and the braid emphasizes the contrast. However, this has to be a tough color scheme to keep up with. Once the roots grow in, you have yet another color to deal with.

Viking Chic

Do you get some kind of prize if you can recreate this style? The hair itself looks like some kind of trophy.

Circle Of Fun

This style will have your mind going in circles. It transforms your head into a giant pacifier. You’d have fun at a picnic, though. You could use the hoop to toss beanbags through or to make a target for Frisbee golf.

Woolly Beehive

Can’t get your beehive to stay up? Tie your hair around a ball of stuffing. You can make friends with the sheep.

Swirled 

A rose by any other name isn’t always a rose. Although this one is rich with beauty, it’s a little over the top. This looks pristine now, but imagine what it might look like at the end of the night. This hairstyle probably doesn’t lend itself well to a night of dancing. With a few hairs out of place, it probably just looks like a giant knot on top of the head.

Fierce Braids

You’d probably have this look in this face too if your hair was pulled this tightly. The combination of braids and softness is like an art form. However, it doesn’t look very comfortable.

Under The Sea

The scalloped edges of this design belong somewhere on the sand. It’s so stylized that it no longer looks like hair.

Cone Head

How long would your hair have to be to build it up this high? Don’t even get us started on those shoulder pads.

Horse Hair

This is certainly a horse of a different color. The artistry is quite skillful. We’re just not sure we’d want this on our heads.

Most Complicated

It must take more than ten fingers to weave these complicated braids. There’s something soothing about the repetitive pattern, though.

Reverse Buzz Cut

Haven’t you always wanted eyes in the back of your head? This gives a whole new meaning to the term two-faced. We wouldn’t want to be standing behind this guy; we would have the strange feeling that we were being watched.

Helicopter Head

Take off on a hairstyle journey by adding propellers. Just don’t spin them if you don’t want your hair to end up in a knot.

Creep Factor

We’re ok with spiders. We just don’t like thinking that they might be stuck in our hair. At least you wouldn’t see the spider on your head unless you looked in a mirror.

You Say Tomato 

I say tomahto. However, it’s also possible that this is a strawberry. What do you think?

The Lizard

“I would like a rainbow-colored chameleon on my head,” said no one ever, except maybe this guy.

Hat Head

If your hat is always leaving an indentation on your hairstyle, flaunt it. Just cut outside of the boundaries of the hat and voila. You never have to worry about it ruining your hair again.

The Violin

Forget boho style. This is the perfect updo for a music festival. Make sweet music with your hairstyle.

Woven

Weave yourself a basket. Just do it on your head. This hairstyle has a beautiful sculptural quality. It doesn’t look very convenient, though. It doesn’t even seem like this basket would be useful for holding anything.

Poofy Mullet

If all you see in the mirror is the front, why bother styling the back? Spend all of your time getting the front as meticulous as it is in this hairstyle.

Ride The Wave

The style and the color have inherent allure. It’s just not a very practical look. In fact, it doesn’t look like it uses any hair pins to stay in place.

Rollers In Your Hair

It looks like this woman forgot to remove the tools that she used to create this style. It also looks like she used quite a lot of different tools. Some of them might have been power tools, actually.

Whale Spout

This crimped yellow monstrosity is exploding off the top of this guy’s head. Do you think he notices?

Beard On Top

Too bad you didn’t have this haircut in grade school so that you could fool all the teachers into thinking you were doing work while you were napping. Why isn’t this considered one of the top short men’s hairstyles?

Pineapple Style

This cut is enough to make you want a piña colada. If you want a more permanent solution, you can just bleach your buzz cut.

Vampire Pixie

The short bob gets edgy with a gelled widow’s peak. Don’t let the wind get to this haircut, or it will completely lose its edge.

Hair Tapestries

These hair tapestries are actually a really cool alternative to those hair wraps that look like friendship bracelets. They’re really colorful, and they don’t look that hard to apply if you have help. We’re just not sure how you’d get them out without chopping off your hair.

The Perfect Pouf 

Get your hair to stand on end with the perfect amount of teasing and a few bottles of hairspray. We can’t believe this was a style worn by school-age girls. Who has that much time to do their hair before the bus comes?

Heavy Metal

Ouch. There’s not much more to say. Imagine how heavy this would feel on your head. We don’t want to know what would happen if you spent too much time in the sun.

The Literal Rat Tail

As if a regular rat tail wasn’t bad enough, this one is enough to make you scream.

‘90s Grunge

Remember when it was cool to look like you never showered? Even the hottest celebrities were doing it.

Back Fringe

Excuse me, sir. You missed a spot. This cut would be great if you tend to forget to put sunscreen on the back of your neck.

The Bottom Line

A new haircut might take some getting used to. However, if your stylist gives you one of these ridiculous haircuts, you might be allowed to ask for a free shave.

50 Ridiculous Haircuts