#like maybe it was a lucky guess and she also has a weird awkward french name but i doubt it somehow

[fingertipsmp3]

Maybe it’s the delusions again but maybe… just maybe….. everyone is out to get me

[kazoo5480]

Summary: Emma Nolan and Killian Jones had been best friends since they were kids. What happens when they begin to grow up, their friendship falling apart, but Killian is still in love with Emma?

“Fucking idiot, ” he said internally and stalked off toward his homeroom. He seriously had to try harder, because a girl that looked like Emma, was going to be shark bait. Upperclassmen would already be circling her, at least Liam would offer her some form of protection he thought as he walked.

He walked in and grabbed a seat next to Ariel and Mulan. Mulan smirked at him, her eyes seeming like she knew something, he would guess Ruby told her something.

Mr. Leroy came in and began writing on the blackboard. The wide portly man waddled around his desk and sat down, his chair squeaking. Killian bit back a grin at the noise it made.

“Alright Sophomores, I am not your den mother, I don’t coddle, if you have women troubles I don’t care, If ladies have female issues, go see the nurse and say nothing to me, I won’t ask, I don’t want to know. This is your home base, you need homework help, ask me. Otherwise, use this hour to finish homework, study, and if you have to talk keep it to a reasonable noise level. If you need the bathroom, the key is by the door, just go and come back. That is all, as you were” he said and swiveled in his chair, it creaking like it was going to snap as he opened a book.

Mulan laughed at Eric and Killian had to laugh. The man literally wouldn’t care what they did as long as it wasn’t unreasonable, and Killian had to appreciate that for the first time a teacher treated them like adults, expecting them to act like adults.

He pulled out his schedule again and made notes next to the classes with their room numbers. He also wrote down his locker combination.

“So I think Ariel’s parents are going out of town in two weeks. She thought it might be fun to have a few people over, just our friends though, not like a party. Should still be warm enough to swim, but the pool is heated anyways” Eric said, and Mulan nodded.

“She does have a pool, we could get some pizzas, might be fun,” she said and Eric nodded.

“How about you Jones, you in?” he asked, and Killian thought it over, but Emma would be there. He couldn't fix this unless he got her to spend actual time with him, so this was a perfect opportunity.

"Sure,” he said and tried desperately not to picture Emma Nolan in a bathing suit. “Can I ask Will?” he asked, and Eric nodded.

“Just Will though, and Belle is welcome if she wants, but Ari said to not let it get around,” he said and Killian nodded.

The next two classes were fine, and he had gym class at the same time as Emma too, Ruby didn’t tell him that.

She came out of the girl’s locker room with Anna and they began stretching on the floor, and he walked over sitting by them. Emma looked at him curiously but didn't say anything acknowledging him yet, or inviting him into their conversation.

He was going to really have to try hard here.  “Hey,” he said. “How’s your first day so far?” he asked them both.

Anna launched into a very detailed description, and Emma bit her lip as she stretched, and he knew what he was thinking. Thanks for opening that can of worms, we won’t ever get her to shut up now, he said internally in Emma’s voice.

To their surprise Anna’s boyfriend Kris came up, and also had gym so she turned her attention to him, leaving Emma and him on their own.

“You could try to make this less awkward Jones,” she said sarcastically.

Killian’s breath caught, “I didn’t realize that I was,” he shot back, but she was talking to him. That was good, he would take what he could get.

“Whatever. Just, I don’t care why you did it, let’s move past it, and try to be normal. You’re jumpy and it’s giving me anxiety” she said, bending forward, pulling her hair up into a ponytail, not looking at him, or realizing she had given him a straight view down her tank top.  

Killian felt his dick harden at the sight, and tried shaking the thought off. “I’m sorry. Ok? I am. I will try to be a better friend to you, I know” he said.

Emma fixed him with a curious look and nodded after a moment. “We aren't friends anymore. You made sure of that, but maybe there is hope for you yet” she said and took off running down the track.

There it was. She said it. He knew when Emma was giving him an opening, he knew her well enough to know that's exactly what it was. She was not going to make it easy, but lucky for her, he was prepared to fight for her.

“So, tell me how your day is going,” he asked as he caught up to her. Emma seemed surprised at his sudden reappearance, so she slowed, and they began to walk the track.

She shrugged, “I knew I was going to get targeted but two Juniors already cornered me by my locker before I even got to homeroom. Liam put his arm around me leading me away and dropped me safely at the door, I think they got the point. But wait, will they think Liam is my boyfriend? Shit, I didn’t think about that” she said in a jumble and Killian just listened, silently fuming.

“Jones, you’re doing that thing with your mouth. Stop” she said, and he stopped clenching his teeth.

“You don’t always have to point it out,” he retorted, trying to relax his jaw.

“Sorry. I am feeling kind of weird here, watching you get jealous isn’t something I am used to anymore, so I will work on that” and his jaw parted slightly. She just called him out plain as day, fucking hell, he thought.

His eyes went wide, “Jealous? I am not. I just think that upperclassmen creeps shouldn’t be hitting on you like it’s a meat market,” he said.

“Oh, okay” she sing-songed and huffed out a laugh.  

Mr. French, the PE teacher blew the whistle and they all began to run, and he knew Emma was fast, but the way her boobs bounced up and down while he ran next to her, he had the urge to give her his tee-shirt.

He tore his eyes away and looked forward, while Emma pretended not to notice his staring, not caring one bit.

They made it two laps before the teacher called them back in, and they headed to the locker rooms, heading their separate ways, and Emma wasn't sure what to make of the last hour. She could see he was trying, actively trying, but she didn't know how to feel about that yet.  

She quickly rinsed off, keeping her hair out of the spray, and dressed. She came out, shooting Ruby a text that she was on her way, and was surprised to see Killian waiting for her when she looked up.

“Lunch right?” He asked and she nodded silently.

“Jones!” Will called out, and Will smiled at Emma.

“Lunch?” Emma asked, and hoped it would be a yes, but he shook his head.

“No I have first, but here,” he said, handing Killian his notebook. I grabbed yours” he said, and Killian snatched it and tucked it in his bag, nodding in thanks. She could tell that something in that notebook irked Killian; he shoved it away too quickly for it not to be important. She decided if he could try, so could she.

“Shall we?” Emma said, and Killian walked beside her towards the cafeteria. Emma spotted Ruby who already had a table for them.

They got in line, and she grabbed her lunch, waiting for Killian to grab his, and they walked to Ruby, sitting side by side.

“How’s your day so far? Emma asked Ruby.

Ruby shrugged, "got a few catcalls, and one seriously dirty look from a girl when I kissed Mulan, but hey, if that’s the worst of it, I can handle it. It’s not like being a lesbian is a new thing, they’ll get over it eventually, I don’t care that I am gay so you can’t really tease me about it!” she said laughing and Emma and Killian laughed too.

“How was PE?” Ruby asked, chewing her pizza.

“Fine, track. Nothing big, Mr. French is nice, so he probably won’t hassle girls too much once it is indoor swimming and we don’t want to get in the pool because of Belle. Thank god he has a teenage daughter, it means he won't ask questions” Emma said, shrugging.

“Swimming? Why are we swimming?” Killian asked as he dissected his pizza, dabbing at the grease pooling on the top of it with a napkin. Emma and Ruby rolled their eyes at him.  

“What? I was in the weight room for football instead of PE last year,” he said.

“In the winter, they usually do indoor swimming and lifeguarding. I think you can opt-out for something, but it’s like a CPR course or something,” Emma said breezily.

“I see,” he said and suddenly realized he would be spending a whole semester watching Emma in a bathing suit with no way to hide. Fuck his life, he had to get this under control.

“You know how to swim Jones, it’s not like you can't do it. If you’re worried about body issues, you’re fine there” Ruby said with a smirk, and Emma coughed.  Ruby eyed her, “What? I see Jones run, without his shirt on. You aren’t my flavor, but you have nothing to be ashamed of Killy” Ruby said, and his ears flamed red, Emma shaking in laughter next to him.

He didn’t even know what to say, “Thanks Red for that vote of confidence,” he said chewing his pizza.

“Close your mouth when you chew,” Emma said, elbowing him. He cocked an eyebrow at her, and she rolled her eyes.

“Aw, you two made up,” Ruby said sweetly.

“Nothing to make up Ruby, just leave it alone,” Emma said sharply and Ruby's eyes widened.

“Swan, come on. I apologized” Killian said, practically pleading.

“Don’t call me that, we aren’t there yet. I accept your apology, and I am an adult and I am leaving the subject alone. I suggest you do too” Emma said, and got up tossing her tray, and stalked out of the lunchroom.

Ruby eyed Killian and he looked confused. “Care to shed any light?" Ruby asked.

Killian groaned, "We were doing perfectly fine before you meddled with it, Ruby,” he said, peeling at the label on his water bottle.

Ruby shrugged, “it is not my place to tell you. Ask her, or better yet, go after her before an upperclassman corners her alone,” she said.

Killian left his tray and grabbed his bag running out after her. He saw a flash of blonde hair heading into the library and he followed her in. He looked around and spotted her as she sat at a table in the back.

“Em?” He said quietly, and Emma rolled her eyes.

“I am fine Killian seriously. I don’t need you to say anything ok? I get it, I am trying to be an adult, and try to be normal with someone I am not exactly comfortable around. I am trying, I have been trying all day. So please, just let it go” she said looking back down to her book.

“Can I walk you home after school?” he asked quietly, and Emma looked up at him curiously.

“Why?” she asked.

“Because I want to say something, and here is not the place for me to say it. So can I walk you home?” he asked again. She waited a moment and nodded.  “I will be out front at 3:15, see you in English,” he said, walking out and leaving her alone. He rubbed his hand over his face, what the fuck was he going to tell her. Everything, some of it? He needed Liam.

To his luck, his brother and Graham were walking in from outside when he waved at them. Graham put him in a headlock and ruffled his hair. Killian shoved him off.

“You got a minute?” he asked his brother and Liam nodded leading him away from the incoming Seniors.

“How do I apologize for something to a girl, when I don’t want to explain the whole truth but I don’t want to lie?” He said.

Liam sized him up. “Finally going to tell Emma why you dropped her?” he said harshly. “You know if you weren’t an idiot, I wouldn’t have had to protect her from slimeballs, your arm would already be around her,” he said, poking Killian in the chest.

“I get it alright. I just don't know what to say, I can't say the truth, the entire truth. So what do I say?” he said.

“I find when I am in hot water, a little sucking up helps. Say that you are very sorry, that it is entirely on you, and you need some time to talk about it entirely. But that you are sorry you hurt her feelings and treated her like crap when she was and still is your best friend. That should soften her up a little, and then you will have to work like hell to get into her good graces. I heard Neil Gold mention her outside, and he is going to make a beeline for her. I suggest you or Ruby stick close to her, keep that asshole away from her” Liam said.

“Thanks, Liam,” he said, and his brother nodded.

He put his hands on his shoulders, looking him over. “No one is going to touch you, you’re my brother,” he said, and Killian nodded. “Now go put your head in a book, or do your homework, chase after Emma, whatever it is that you do,” he said and walked toward the locker room peeling off his shirt.

Killian thought about what Liam said, and waited until it was almost time for English, and leaned against the wall outside of their class to catch her. She looked surprised to see him there, but said nothing and walked alongside him into their class. He chose the seat behind her, and she opened her notebook and paid attention.

He had Science with her next, so he chose the same table as her, sitting in his stool a foot away from her, and was thrilled when their teacher announced their tablemate would be their partner for the duration of the semester.

Emma groaned internally. It seemed like the universe was putting him in her path deliberately, she could make it through this. She had made it through losing her best friend, she could certainly try to let him in a little since that seemed to be what every sign the world was telling her, couldn't she?

The bell rang, and they split off for electives, he had opted for Tech which didn't surprise her at all.  He asked her about her elective as they walked toward the science room and she surprised him, “Ceramics” she said.

“When did you start liking art?” He asked genuinely curious, he wasn't truly surprised, she could make something out of anything, one of the more resourceful people he had ever met, even as kids.

“When my mom took me to New York for my birthday last year, I thought this would be a good way to dip my feet in,” she said.

“I didn’t know you went to New York,” he said quietly.

“You don’t know a lot of things, Jones,” she replied softly, entering her classroom.

Man, Liam was right, he was going to need to fucking grovel to get things back on track with her. He spent most of the hour paying attention to Mr. Locksley and picking apart his brain to try and figure out how to make things right. Some truth, just not all of it.

Tech club flew by, Emma’s uncle Robin was their teacher, so it wasn’t totally terrible. His stomach churned the closer it got to Three O’Clock, and when the bell rang, he stopped by his locker and dropped his books off, and headed out front. He sat down and waited, and Emma came out a few minutes later.

“Ready?” He asked her and she nodded and extended her hand helping him stand. Two years ago he wouldn’t have let go of her hand, but now he had to.

They made their way past the houses and neared Main Street when she finally broke the silence that was smothering them.

“You wanted to talk, so talk,” she said, her hands tugging on her backpack straps nervously, her face tilted toward the ground.

“Still as blunt as ever. I wanted to say I am sorry. I know I hurt you, I know I did, and I am so sorry Em. I didn’t mean to, I can’t explain all of it, but I just had other interests, and I know if I had asked you to come to watch me play baseball, or football, or even watch me build robots you would have. I know if I had just asked, you would have been at every game," he said, swallowing.

"I don’t know why I pushed you away, or let the space get so big between us, but I am sorry. I care about you, a lot. I am trying to make up for that now. Honestly, I am. I want you to be my best friend, you have always been, despite space, you still are. I am just really sorry” he said.

Emma stopped walking. “You’re an idiot. You dropped our friendship, 13 years of it to play sports, and have guy friends. I'm not stupid, we hit high school and suddenly I wasn’t cool enough to be a part of your group. You didn’t think I could be a part of that, or support you playing sports? You could have told me, talked to me, instead you cut me off and just stopped being my friend. It was fucked up, and I am mad at you, yes, and I am still mad, but regardless of what you just said, it still fucking hurts Jones. I am trying to let you apologize, and move on, but I want to know why I should even try” she said angrily.

Killian pushed the brim of his baseball cap up, and stopped, turning to look at her. “Because I am still your best friend, even if I am an idiot. I care about you Swan, I want to be your best friend, I want to be let back into your life. I don't want to be on the outside of it anymore, not knowing the inside joke, or knowing how you feel. I know it's different, we are older, you've changed, I've changed, but I am still me, and you are still you” he said searching her face.

Emma stared at him, her heart pounding in her chest, blood roaring in her ears. His eyes looked so sad, he was really just as messed up as she was.

“God, you're dumb. So dumb. I can't just let you back into my life Killian, you left it, you just dropped me. It made me feel like you were ashamed of me somehow. Your mom tried reassuring me that you were being a typical boy and would grow out of it, so is that what this is? You have grown out of being an asshole? Because I am not willing to budge further than being polite if you haven't grown up at all” she said.

Killian grabbed her hand, not letting her pull it away. “Em, I am, I have. I am sorry. Let me in, let me be your friend at least” he said searching her face, and he could see her green eyes glisten but knew she was too proud to let them fall. He tugged her to him and wrapped his arms around her waist as best as he could, his nose smelling her hair, and she sniffled.

“You're an idiot,” she said. He pushed her backpack off of her, throwing his on the sidewalk next to it in a heap. He pulled her against him tightly, not wanting to let her go.

“I know, I know. I am sorry. I shouldn't have shut you out, I am sorry. I will figure out a way to explain it all, but I don't have it all figured out today. I will try and I will tell you, just don't keep me on the outside, please Em. I care about you so much” he whispered.

“I missed you,” she murmured, her arms going around his neck and she crushed herself to him as tightly as he was holding her.

“I missed you too Swan,” he said back.

She stepped back, and swiped at her cheeks, and started walking. “I came, you know, for a while. To watch your games, with Ruby. I came to some football games, I know you saw me.  I saw you win the championship pitching too” she offered up, and he looked at her surprised.

“Really? Why?” he asked.

“Hope. Hoping you wouldn't always be an asshole, and here we are” she said, bending to pick up her bag, and kept walking.

“I am sorry,” he said one last time as they approached the walkway to her front door.

“Good,” she said and turned to walk up to her front door.

“Wait! You have a cell phone don’t you?” he asked and she nodded.

“Can I have the number?” and she shook her head.

“Baby steps Jones” and shut the door. She leaned against it as soon as she was inside, taking a deep breath, and completely freaked out that she was agreeing to let him back in.

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[etoileholland]

Last First Kiss

Pairing: Tom x female reader

Warnings: a hint of body insecurity, primarily fluff

Word count: 2.2k

“Have you ever kissed anyone before?” Tom asked in a hushed tone, trying to do his best to not have anyone overhear your conversation.

You were at his house while the boys were having a summer party in the backyard with all of Tom’s family. It was a monthly summer tradition at the household, and since you were his neighbour turned friend, you were often invited. You and Tom were sitting at the kitchen island, drinking and watching everyone from the French doors that went out onto the backyard patio.

You think back to when you had moved to London a year ago, and Tom and the boys helped you move in to your house. They quickly became your friends; and loved the fact that you were from America.

Breaking yourself away from your thoughts, you looked back at Tom, hesitant to answer his question.

You just nodded your head no, not meeting Tom’s gaze as he looked over at you.

“Have you ever had a relationship before or anything?” He asked, while you nodded your head no again.

“I’ve never been in a relationship at all. I’ve never had my hand held, have never been kissed, or anything like that.” you stated, embarrassed by how ridiculous it was that you were twenty two and have never done anything with a guy. You started to get up from your seat, but Tom reached out for the hem of your shirt and pulled on it, prompting you to sit back down.

“Hey don’t be embarrassed by that at all. Honestly, it’s sweet that you haven’t had any of that. You haven’t had your heart broken yet by some jerk, and you don’t have a regrettable first kiss story. There’s no right age as to when any of that should happen to you, so you shouldn’t be shameful of it.” he said as he looked at you with a sympathetic look, before continuing.

“Maybe the right person hasn’t come around yet, or maybe there’s an underlying reason as to why you didn’t want those things to happen.”

You look up at him, pausing before saying “I think I’m afraid of physical intimacy, you know? People used to make fun of my body and because of that I don’t really like people touching me. They made fun of my weight, and of how awkward I looked when I was young, so now I guess it’s just me being self conscious. And besides, it seems slightly gross to kiss someone, well at least the thought of it does. What if the guy hardly brushes his teeth or just ate something really gross, or worse, uses too much tongue too early-” you gagged, causing Tom and you to break out into a fit of laughter. “But also, I guess I haven’t had the opportunity yet either. No guy has ever looked at me and went ‘wow, I want to be with her’. I guess I’m not that noticeable or anything, and it hurts. All of my friends have been in relationships, and some of my friends are even married by now, Tom. Married! And I haven’t even had my first kiss.” by now you were just rambling, but Tom was still paying attention to every word you’ve said.

“Sorry if that was a lot to unpack, I shouldn’t have unloaded that onto you.” you said, but Tom only nodded.

“Trust me, it’s okay. I promise you. It’s good that you’re getting it all out and acknowledging it. And trust me, the right guy will not care about that at all. It’s actually cute that you’re so...pure.” He smirked and then winced when you gently slapped him on the arm.

“I mean it though. But I’m don’t believe you when you say no one is interested in you at all. You’re stunning, but you’re also extremely clueless. That I do know for sure. I’ve been places with you and the amount of guys who hit on you is ridiculous, but you just think they’re being nice.” He wanted to say more, but he refrained from doing so, not wanting to make it awkward.

“I think you may have cracked the DaVinci code, congratulations.” you say as you take a long sip from your cup. You didn’t even notice how close Tom was to you, but you realised in that moment that you weren’t physically uncomfortable around him. In fact, you would often scoot closer to him when watching a movie, with you often leaning your head on his shoulder. You liked to play with his hair and massage his shoulders when he was stressed. You liked to be in his space, maybe because he didn’t push you to do anything you didn’t want to. He knew you weren’t physically affectionate, so he would never hug you or anything if you didn’t want it first. But he was also just your friend, so of course you weren’t scared to be around him physically. You trusted him one hundred percent, and knew that he trusted you just as much.

You did like him more than a friend, but you were also happy with him just being your friend. You just liked knowing that Tom was in your life.

Tom, however, was madly in love with you. The moment he saw your car pull up in your driveway for the first time, he was mesmerized by how beautiful and graceful you were. That was why he recruited him and the boys to help you move into your house, because he was dying for an excuse to talk to you. He was happy to know that you had a great personality as well, on top of your beautiful looks, and he’s been in awe ever since.

He was so much in love with you that he respected your boundaries, and because of this, he never pushed anything. It actually was nice for him to know that you cared so much about how your “firsts” would go, that you didn’t rush into anything. If this was any other girl, he would have already pulled her into his lap and began to make out with her. But because he cared so much about you, and because he knew that you trusted him enough with this information, he had to resist the temptation to lean in to kiss you. So instead he didn’t say anything at all, but just let out a little “hm” under his breath as he also took a long drink of his beer.

You two sat in silence for a bit, and you noticed that the room has more tension in it than it did before.

“So um, how did your first kiss go?” You asked him, and he nearly choked on his drink.

“Well I was young and like 12, and I was dared to kiss this girl in my class because I liked her. So I ran up to her and asked if I could kiss her and she said yes, and that was it. It wasn’t that great at all, come to think of it. It was right after lunch and we all had hamburgers...” you gagged as he laughed, remembering just how awkward it really was.

“See you’re lucky, you don’t have an awkward first kiss story like I did...” now he trailed off, not enjoying the awkwardness and the tension between you two.

“So now when you have your first kiss, you’ll probably be more ready and wanting it to happen, and you’ll cherish it instead of cringe at it.” He let out an awkward laugh, and downed the rest of his drink. You sat in silence for a little while longer, until you decided to get up to join everyone else outside.

“Well thank you again for letting me talk to you, Tom. I really appreciate it.” You said as you put your hand on his knee and gently squeezed it before getting up.

Instinctively, he reached for your hand and held it as it was still on his knee, giving it a gentle squeeze. You two were sitting very close to each other now, and you could hear that his breathing was getting a bit faster.

Realizing what he had done, he let go of your hand and wrapped it around the beer bottle, letting out a small “sorry”. He was beating himself up inside, knowing that he may have just blown it by reaching out for your hand. Here you just stated that you were physically uncomfortable around guys, and he had just grabbed for your hand without asking if it was okay.

You, however thought it was cute that he did that, and without realizing you said “You’re the first guy who’s ever held my hand, and it felt nice.” You were blushing and he did too, and shortly after that he said “Can I hold your hand again?” To which you nodded and allowed him to hold it. He stroked the back of your hand with his thumb, and you put your head on his shoulder. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head as you sat there for a few minutes, basking in the comfortable silence.

“Hey, um, I don’t want to be weird, but um, I really do appreciate you. You’ve always been so kind and caring, even from the beginning, and I’ll never forget it.” you said, hoping that you didn’t make it uncomfortable between you two.

“You’re welcome, you deserve someone really good for you. You’re the sweetest, funniest and most caring person I know...and I would hate to see you with someone who doesn’t appreciate you, because you deserve the world.” Now he hoped he didn’t make it awkward.

“Back at you, Tommy” you said as you scooted even closer to him so that your thigh was touching his.

What you two didn’t realize was that everyone outside could see you two sitting together. The boys, and even Tom’s parents had wished that you two would get together, because you two brought out the best in each other. He taught you to be a bit more adventurous and spontaneous, and in turn you taught him to be more patient and emphatic. You two were a good fit, and you both knew that, but you both were afraid of ruining the great friendship you had.

“Tom?” You asked, just barely above a whisper.

“Mmhmm darling, what is it?” He asked, leaning into you a bit more.

“Never mind” you said, not wanting to ask him what you’ve been dying to ask him for a while now. You wanted him to be yours, and right now there was nothing more you wanted than for him to kiss you. Sure, you may not be physically affectionate around others, but right now you just wanted him. You wanted him to kiss you and never let go. You wanted him to hug you from behind and have him constantly hold your hand. You may have been uncomfortable around other guys, but you weren’t around Tom.

However, you didn’t really know how Tom felt about you. You weren’t really sure if he liked you more than a friend. He’s known to be a pretty affectionate person, so it never seemed weird when he would put his head on your shoulder or anything, but you weren’t sure if he liked you the same way you liked him. You just figured you had no chance with him, so you never really pushed it.

Tom felt as though he was extremely obvious with his crush on you, but he didn’t think you liked him that way. His brothers were always teasing him for the way he stared at you like Gatsby stared and longed for Daisy, and for the way that he would drop everything he was doing if you needed help. He wanted nothing more than to be with you, for you made him feel normal, despite his hectic life.

“No love, what is it?” He pressed, dying and hoping that you felt the way that he does.

“I, um, well, oh god. Can I kiss you?” You asked, and Tom just let out a small laugh.

“Oh god I can’t believe I really said that out loud. I didn’t mean to ask and I-” you were cut off by Tom leaning in to kiss you, a gentle kiss that only lasted a few seconds. His lips tasted like beer, but you didn’t mind at all. You both pulled away slightly, while you two gently pressed your foreheads together. You giggled as you realised what had happened, while Tom smiled and began to blush.

“Wow, that was really nice.” was all you could say, amazed at what had just happened.

“Well, was it a good first kiss?” He asked you, as you nodded and let out a little “yeah”.

Tom laughed again as he leaned in once more, this time you two locking lips and deepening the kiss.

All of a sudden, you heard whooping and applause from outside as you two broke away to see the boys pressed up against the glass doors, cheering that you two had finally kissed.

Embarrassed, you pulled away while Tom ran up to the glass and banged on it, letting out an “oi!” before running back over to you and grabbing your waist, and kissing you once more.

----

A/N: I hope you enjoyed! If you have any requests or want to be added to the tag list, please let me know!

Mes petits anges: @starkissedholland​ @scarletxwidow​ @fangirlwithasweettooth​

[artificialqueens]

What's Her Name? (Gigi x Nicky) - Mina

A/N: I’m working really hard on a fairy au right now (go to @goodemornting for updates on that lmao) but in the meantime I wanted to do something different! I hope you all enjoy it :)

Your soulmates name shows up on your arm when you turn 15. Gigi’s only problem is that her’s is in French, and she doesn’t speak a word of it.

Soulmates are a pretty common thing. Realistically they shouldn’t be; even with someone’s name written on your arm, what are the odds you’re going to find them in a sea of seven and a half billion people? Not only is it unlikely, it’s improbable. What if you have a name on your arm like John Smith? How many John Smiths do you have to go through before you can find the “one and only”? Soulmates were romanticized, and frankly unnecessary in Gigi’s humble opinion. She wouldn’t have had the slightest interest in finally finding her own but it’s hard to find someone who doesn’t at least have some idea of who their soulmate is. There are a lot of tells, like what language the name is written in, what gender the name is usually assigned to, stuff like that. Probably the biggest reason why so many people in the world have managed to find their soulmates is because they care so much about it. Apparently there’s also like, a gut feeling you get, when you meet them. Like you know for a fact that they’re the one and only. She’d never experienced it herself, but according to the people in her life who had met their soulmates before, there’s just some kind of pull, like on an instinctual level. This subconscious feeling you have that they’re the right person for you. And when the names match up - well, there’s really no way to deny it, at that point.

It’s kind of a sweet notion, in a way. To know someone all your life by a set of letters and then when you finally get to meet them, that they’re the right person, and they’ve been thinking of you too. Gigi was independent sure, career driven and logical, but she would’ve been lying if she wasn’t the slightest bit interested in what her soulmate might look like, what perfume they might use, what their favorite band might be. It was drilled into her since she was younger, in her defense, but that yearning feeling that encased every bone in her body whenever she accidentally glanced down at the cursive words delicately engraved on her arm made her wish that she could just find them already, so she could focus on more important things than the love of her life.

The only problem was, that the name imprinted neatly on her arm just happened to not be written in English, but some terrible variation of French.

Truth be told, she’d started studying French ever since google translate had helpfully informed her that’s what language the name was written in. She knows it starts with N, probably ends in L or Y, but her soulmates parents must’ve decided to give their child the most unique spelt name on the planet because the letters every French person had told her that the name possessed didn’t form anything that has much of a ring to it. She really hoped it was a girl’s name, because, well, it would be pretty inconvenient for her if her soulmate was a guy (Considering that she’s, like, a lesbian, and all). But other than that there were absolutely no indicators as to what it could say.

It used to bother her a lot more when she was younger. Being seventeen and knowing absolutely no characteristics of your soulmate is both pretty rare and pretty sad, but it’d never been her primary concern. She had other things to fill her life with, like good friends and family, school, art, overpriced coffee. It was frustrating that she couldn’t read it, but also extremely easy to distract herself from. Besides, having no way of knowing what the her soulmates name was gave her plenty of time and energy to spend helping her friends with their soulmate problems, and there’s plenty of those to go around.

Gigi stirred her tea, poking her tongue out slightly from between her lips. She hated that all the tapioca pearls end up sinking to the bottom, she didn’t want to put the straw in only halfway and get a mouthful of tea, but at the same time she didn’t want to drink all the boba all at once because it’s all pooled at the bottom. There were probably more important things that she could be focusing on right now, but this was a major pet peeve of hers. She cares a whole lot about how her bubble tea is consumed! The tapioca should be dispersed evenly throughout the drink, anything else is a disgrace.

Jan looked between her own two multicolored drinks, narrowing her eyes in contemplation. She was probably trying to decide which one to drink first, but it’s still pretty funny to watch. After Gigi had given up on fiddling around with the tapioca pearls, she sipped her tea and laced her fingers together, leaning forward to look at the blonde closer.

“You could try drinking the one they gave you for free.” She remarked, Jan’s golden brown eyes sliding up to meet hers with a sheepish smile. They’d been best friends since grade school but she still got way too easily embarrassed when Gigi gave her advice, it was pretty stupid. “Since you like the other one more, right?”

“I mean,” Jan pouted again, cocking her head like an upset puppy. “I like taro and lychee evenly, I just wanted lychee this time.”

“Hmm.” Gigi hummed, chewing her lip. “I’m trying to decide if you’re an immediate satisfaction kinda girl or the kind to bide your time. Or you could alternate between the two. Get a good mix of the one you’re in the mood for and the one you’re not in the mood for to keep you going.”

“That’s pretty gross, Gigi.” The older pointed out, wearing a wry smile. “It’s weird that I even have two to begin with.”

“Business as usual for you,” she chided, taking another sip of her single strawberry flavoured tea. Jan was lucky, generally. Gigi didn’t mean that in a jealous way, it was just true, and a little unnerving, at times. The fact that whoever ordered the taro bubble tea had completely took off, prompting the worker to offer it to the blonde, wasn’t even surprising to her at this point. Jan was even lucky in the soulmate department, kinda. The name on her arm was Jacquline Cox, pretty basic, and apparently they’d already met - though Jan hadn’t given her a lot of information about the mystery woman other than something about long dark hair and Persian food.

“It makes me feel awkward,” Jan complained with a sigh. “Who comes to a cafe and orders two boba teas?

“People who are really thirsty, probably.”

“I guess you’re right,” She conceded, but she still looked apprehensive, so Gigi reached across the table and grabbed the taro drink to take a long sip of it. She wasn’t the biggest fan of taro (It’s hard to describe, it’s too earthy for her taste?) but the eyebrow raise from the older woman was funny, so it was worth the slightly unpleasant flavour. “Gigi?”

The brunette glanced up from the tea, watching as Jan’s lip curled up harshly, thinking about her next choice of words. “You said wanted to catch up today?” She asked after a moment, and Gigi buffered briefly before nodding.

“Yeah. It’s so weird not going to the same school.” Gigi smiled sadly, drawing a smiley face in the condensation of her cup, “I’m not used to not seeing you every day, but you said the new school is better, right?”

“It’s not much different than the one we went to last year,” Jan shrugged, “But it’s a good school. It’s nice going somewhere where people don’t all remember me from primary.” She chuckled, rubbing the back of her neck. “It’s how I met Jackie, so I can’t be too mad about it.”

Gigi can’t help being a little bit more attentive after she hears the name, but she’s not very expressive at the best of times, so there probably wasn’t much more than a slight shift in her expression. The shorter woman was pretty good at picking up on that stuff, though, so she wasn’t surprised at the knowing smirk smiling back it her. “You know, you could just ask if you want me to tell you about her.”

Gigi winked, leaning forward on the table and resting her head against her hands. “Tell me then, what’s Miss Jacqueline like?”

“She’s from Iran, transfer student, stupidly funny, super smart, tall,” Jan sounded wistful, smiling serenely. The expression was generally deceiving, but thankfully Gigi had a pretty good idea of how to read her, too. It comes with being best friends for so long. She chewed her boba, waving a hand to encourage the blonde to continue. “I’ve been so happy lately, she really completes me. I don’t think she likes me much yet though.”

Gigi swallowed, narrowing her eyes. “Hmmm, maybe she’s just nervous. Does she have eyes? You’re pretty attractive.” She hesitated, “Probably.”

“Thank you,” Jan giggled, “But that’s not really what I meant.” She sighed, swirling her tea with her straw. “It’s complicated.”

“I’ve got time.” She hinted, rather than say that she’d been waiting on this tea since Jan had first mentioned meeting her soulmate, and that she’d been starved of this kind of thing in her own life so she was more than happy to be hearing about it in her friends.

Gigi had never been good at any of that… romantic stuff, which people often found surprising given how confident she was normally. She didn’t read often, but on the rare occasion that she did, and she got to the romantic part of a book, she felt terribly flustered the whole time through. She had no composure. She’d just have no idea what to say, or what might be tactful to do in any situation. Sure, holding hands and cuddling sounded nice, but beyond that- things like communication, and physical gestures of affection, were intimidating. Not scary, necessarily, or unappealing (because wow Gigi loved to be kissed by g… girls…) but definitely intimidating. A large part of her was worried that when she eventually met her soulmate, she’d embarrass herself with a total lack of expertise in that area. Then again, the whole point of a soulmate is that they’re your one and only, so maybe they’d both be completely unequipped to handle what being a soulmate might entail. In general Gigi was most worried about identifying them, though. Who’s to say that they’d know English? Maybe they don’t know what the name - which was hopefully written nicely since her handwriting could be terrible at times - on their arm says either.

Jan groaned. “She’s so nice to me but she’ll never initiate it? Like if I compliment her she goes along with it otherwise it feels forced?”

Gigi scoffs, picking at her nails, the answer is fairly obvious. “It sounds like she’s doing that thing that people do in the movies.” She dipped her thumb in the puddle of water that’d formed on the table from the drips of condensation dripping off her drink. “What’s it called, playing hard to get?”

“Y’know, that does sound kinda accurate,” Jan smiled, which told Gigi that shes completely right. She’s glad for that, too, because she really just repeated platitudes. “Why don’t we talk about something else? You haven’t told me how you’ve been, recently.”

By the time they’d both finished their bubble teas (as well as the taro one in the middle of the table), they figured it’d be a good time to head home. Gigi begged the shorter woman to keep her posted on the Jackie situation, and Jan swore that she would with a roll of her eyes.

The brunette’s text came in while she was at the mall. When her phone vibrated, she stopped for a second to check the notification. It was Jan, of course, the paragraph of emojis next to her name lighting up Gigi’s lock screen.

The blonde has texted her a picture; she doesn’t recognize the subject of the photo, but she can only assume that it’s the Jackie Cox soulmate woman, or else there’d be no reason for the candid shot. She’s facing away from the camera, looking off into a cityscape, but her head is turned very slightly, and there’s a fond smile practically glowing off of her face. From what Gigi can see, her eyes are a deep wood brown, she’s freakishly tall and probably towers over Jan, and her hair is dark and curled slightly at the tips. She nods sagely, this woman and Jan would look like a cliche Pinterest board aesthetic together. The Persian woman is beaming, which probably means that the two getting along just fine- which is contrary to what Jan had told her so mayb-

Someone (or something? But she’s pretty sure it’s a someone because whatever it is is warm) collides into Gigi’s shoulder, and knocks not only her phone out of her hands, but also her feet out from under her. With an undignified sound, she watches the ground get closer to her, and then blinks in confusion when it suddenly stops roughly a foot away from her face.

“Oh my gosh, I’m sorry!” it’s a woman’s voice, Gigi thinks, and vaguely accented, but her English sounds pretty okay. When she turns her head she is accutly aware of of pale blonde hair brushing against the woman’s shoulders, the sweet scent of honeysuckle perfume, a Lana Del Rey shirt tightly hugging her chest. “I wasn’t looking where I was going, are you alright? Mon dieu, your phone..”

Huh? Gigi followed her line of sight and noticed that her phone was on the floor some ways away. As soon as her eyes landed on it, the blonde woman kneels and lifts it up delicately, wiping it off with the silky red scarf she’s wearing. It’s at that moment that it occurs to her that she’s still being held up by the other girl, and when she’s pulled to her feet, she takes a step back and chews her thumbnail, blinking at the vision before her.

This girl is fairly tall, definitely has an inch or two on Gigi. Her hair is shiny, concealed by a stylish black beret, and her eyes are sharp and seemingly all knowing. She’s remarkably pretty, Gigi’s heart beginning to get that fluttery feeling she gets whenever she makes eye contact with an unfortunately attractive girl her age. She tries to calm it down, though, because she can’t imagine that going all ditzy-highschooler on this girl will help the interaction any. It’s awkward enough as it is.

“I’m fine,” She says quietly, before the blonde girl can begin to fret about her phone. “I shouldn’t have been standing in the middle of the walkway on my phone, so it’s my fault, probably.” Gigi wipes down the wrinkles in her shirt, watching relief cross over the girl’s features. She’s looks French, the brunette concedes. Like she stylishly sell you a baguette on the side of the street, and her accent further hints at it. She’s probably around Gigi’s age as well.

“I’m happy that you aren’t mad.” The girl smiles. “But it’s still my fault.” She clears her throat, rubbing the back of her neck. “Could I make it up to you?” The way she asks it is curious, like she has some sort of other reason for asking, but Gigi holds her tongue. “I was going to this restaurant- pardon me, my name is Nicolette — are you free right now? – Not that you have to be, we could do it later – they make a really good stir-fry.”

For a pretty girl, Nicky stutters more than Gigi would’ve expected. It’s cute, charming almost, and the offer sounds great right about now. “That sounds fine.” She smiles, suddenly forgetting whatever she had come to the mall for because stir fry and French woman definitely sounded like her cup of tea.

“Perfect! I didn’t catch your name, by the way,” Nicolette - that’s a long name, maybe she could shorten it to Nicky - remarks thoughtfully, and Gigi realises that she’s a fool.

“Gigi.” She replies, and then adds, “Goode. My name is Gigi Goode.” Inwardly she scolds herself, that introduction could’ve been much smoother. For a minute she thinks she was so weird about it that Nicky has been thoroughly unsettled, but it crosses her mind after a bit of thought that the French woman’s comically widening eyes probably isn’t on account of her stuttering.

“Gigi Goode?” Echoes the girl. “Wait, uhm,” she shakes her head quickly, eyes frantically flicking between her arm and Gigi’s own, which is concealed by her coat sleeve. “Do you-” Nicky fumbled with her shirt, yanking it up with one hand. When Gigi looks down at the girl’s arm, she sees some incredibly familiar letters written, tiny hearts dotting every i. “Do you spell your name with-”

“Yeah. Yeah - yeah I do.“ The brunette interrupts, vision suddenly becoming blurry. She pulls up her own sleeve, feeling like she’s in some kind of a stupor, and holds out her forearm shakily to the taller woman. “Is this your name? I’ve never been able to read it.”

There’s a moment of silence.

“That is certainly my name,” Nicky replies, voice high pitched and frantic. “It’s spelt weird, you know, with the q and u and stuff but - merde that’s my name.”

Honestly, Gigi isn’t really capable of thinking clearly right now, but by the sounds of it she might’ve just found her soulma-

She gets knocked off her feet for second time within five minutes. This time, though, Nicky isn’t able to catch her, because though Nicky is again the reason she goes down, the blonde’s arms are occupied by being thrown tightly around Gigi’s shoulders.

“I’m so glad to meet you!” The woman bursts out, and the brunette’s face warms at the close proximity. “I came to America to look for you, did you know that? I suppose you wouldn’t, as we’ve never met before, but I- well- I’ve been searching for so long and some days I felt like I would never find you- that is a bit too much information for a first meeting, sorry, - and I’ve knocked you over again too, oh-”

“It’s okay,” Gigi dismisses quickly. “I don’t mind.” She doesn’t, though her face is definitely like a thousand degrees right now. Nicky beams at her, strands of angel blonde hair falling in front of her eyes, and Gigi swallows down a bit of flustered anxiety. Her heart is beating hard, she can hardly hear anything through it’s ringing in her ears, and Nicky can definitely feel it, but it’s not so embarrassing when she realises that the other girl’s heart is beating just as fast. At the same tempo, even, though it might be a bit presumptuous to say as much. She clears her throat a few times, trying to figure out something cool to say. “Uhm, well, how about that stir-fry then?”

Not quite, but close enough, because Nicky’s responding smile feels like a billion dollars.

[let-me-write-shit]

Somebody To You: 17

Friendly reminder to please Like and/or Reblog. It helps more than you think! :)

A/N: A MASSIVE shoutout and credit to this dream of a person, @nnevrmind​, who not only gave me ALL of the information on Rome and the historical significance of the places mentioned (and also made me want to visit Rome even MORE now), but also inspired a large chunk of this chapter and upcoming chapters. You’re an actual angel and I’m SOOO appreciative of you reaching out and helping me with this! Thank you thank you thank you!! :) <3 

Word Count: 3,861

Click Here For Previous Chapter & Other Completed Stories

PLEASE let me know what you think

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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN:

Sleep had never been so comfortable before, which was unheard of for Zoey when she was in a bed that was not her own. She almost thought the whole trip to Italy was a dream. But as she stretched and fluttered her eyes open, a smile spread across her face, looking passed the white canopy that surrounded her bed through the window that overlooked the beautiful acreage of property that the sun shone down on. She wished that she could blink and have this image ingrained in her mind forever. 

Zoey’s phone had automatically adjusted to Rome time, seeing that it was only 7 AM. Her hair had dried after last night’s shower, so she put it in a simple low messy bun, pulling strands of hair out to frame her face and heading downstairs to see if anyone else had woken up yet, deciding not to change or put makeup on as she didn’t know the plans for today. 

The first person she ran into was Nancy who’s voluminous curly dark hair was messy and diffused on her head. She sat cross-legged on a barstool at the kitchen island, still in her pajamas, eating a bowl of fruits.

“It’s early,” was all she managed, the sleep in her voice still evident.

Zoey snorted out a “morning,” when she heard smacking of feet against the tile behind her.

Harry came into view, grinning. His puffy eyes and cheeks made him look five years younger as his deep, raspy voice greeted them, followed by, “I thought I heard someone leave their room. I didn’t want to be the only one up. Coffee?” he offered.

“Please,” she nodded, allowing him to pass.

Zoey decided to step out onto the back terrace and take a seat at the couches by the firepit that was now laden with ash from last night’s fire. The view was incredible. It’s no wonder Italy is considered one of the most beautiful countries in the world. She couldn’t imagine ever getting bored with this. Harry had disrupted her thoughts, stepping out of the french doors that lead onto the stone slab and carefully making his way over with two mugs in hand. 

“Thank you,” she grinned, taking hers and wrapping her hands around it while he sat beside her. 

Harry nodded, placing his arm on the armrest and looking out at the garden, “Incredible, right?”

“I can’t believe people get to live here.”

He nodded, “That’s why it’s one of my favorite places to visit. Never gets old.”

It’s like he could read her mind. Why did he have to do that? Why did he have to make it so hard not to like him? Couldn’t he just be a creepy weirdo like most of the guys she knew? She turned to him, trying to force the thoughts away, and smiled, “You picked an amazing place to stay at. Thank you. It really is beautiful here. All the artwork and old detailing in the house. It makes you wonder how old it is and who all lived here.”

“Well, I had to make sure I picked a place with character,” Harry smirked, “Couldn’t have you come out here and stay at a place like my house in LA.”

She chuckled, only lightly checking his shoulder so as not to make him spill his coffee, “Well, at least I know you’ve got good taste.”

“In some things, I guess,” he turned to her, “I’m alright in vacations and music. Not so great in the girl department, am I?”

Zoey shrugged, “I don’t know. I think you’re pretty good at picking them. You’re just not good at the follow-through.”

“How has she been?”

Zoey knew he meant Aurora. And her heart panged a little thinking he might still have feelings for her. She had noticed the occasional glances between each other last night, and although she wasn’t worried that Rory might make a move, Zoey couldn’t help but wonder if there was still a spark between them or if they regret ending things. Still, he didn’t know about Aurora and Brett, and she’d rather he found out by her than in passing in case he did still care for Aurora and was hurt by being caught off guard.

“She seems alright. Brett asked her to be his girlfriend.”

“Oh. So they’re dating?” Harry asked, earning a nod from Zoey. 

Her eyes lingered on him, unblinking, waiting for a reaction. And hearing those words hurt, but not because Rory was taken now. He was happy for her, genuinely. But it hurt because it was so easy for someone else to do what he couldn’t seem to do. It took no time at all for Brett to figure out that he liked Aurora enough to make it official. This wasn’t the first time this has happened to Harry. In fact, there were several instances where Harry was too afraid to commit that he got beat out by someone else. When would he learn?

Harry nodded, “Good for them. He seems alright.”

Zoey snorted, rolling her eyes, “Just last week you were calling him a...what was it? Little bitch?”

Harry smirked, taking a sip of his still-hot coffee, “I was in a bad mood.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Besides,” Harry shrugged, looking out at the view again, “Maybe the guys are right. Maybe I need to branch out more. I always go after the same type of girls. Maybe I should see what else is out there. Try something new.”

“Uh...hello? I’ve been saying that, too! I mean, there’s no shame in going after the same kind of girls. You like what you like. But it doesn’t hurt to venture. I’ve found it to be fun.”

“Yeah, I know all the fun you’ve had! Mama’s boys, virgins, and guys that are stuck on their exes. Tell me again how venturing has been doing for you?” Harry teased.

“Not fair. Just because I haven’t had any luck doesn’t mean I haven’t had fun doing it. Plus, I’ve gotten free food out of it, so it’s not all a loss.”

Harry laughed before turning to look at her, a smile hidden behind her coffee mug as she took a gentle sip, looking back out at the fields. The sun made her navy eyes look brighter and gave her a skin a soft glow. She brushed the strands of hair that framed her face out of the way and turned to look at him with a hesitant grin when she noticed he was already looking at her. 

“What?” she asked, self consciously.

Harry shook his head, trying his best to sound flippant, “Nothing. Just thinking about how my friends keep joking around saying I should date you.”

He noticed Zoey’s cheeks began to blush as she forced a laugh, sarcastically saying, “Could you imagine? Talk about not your type.”

Harry let out a chuckle, a little staggered by how put-off she sounded, “Isn’t that the point? To date someone who’s not my type?”

Zoey paused, staring at him, her eyebrows starting to furrow as she stuttered, “Wait, I’m confused. Are you asking me to go on a date with you?”

His heart started pounding nervously and a hole formed in the pit of his stomach when he thought he noticed a hint of discomfort in her face. Quickly he stammered, “No! No that’d be weird. I was just saying...nevermind.”

“Well, damn, you didn’t have to sound so disgusted,” she chuntered.

“No, I’m not disgusted. It’s just-” he rambled before noticing the amused smile on her face and realized she was joking. They both let out a laugh and Harry relaxed saying, “We should wake everyone up. We need to get going soon.”

The two recruited Nancy to help, and as they attempted to wake Andy, Aurora, and Katie, Harry couldn’t help but replay their conversation over and over in his head. Was she weirded out at the idea of them dating? Was that really an expression of discomfort on her face or was it something else? He couldn’t recall hearing a tone of annoyance. Maybe she wasn’t completely uninterested. 

What if they did go on a date and it turned out to be awkward or bad? Would it ruin their friendship? He didn’t think he could handle losing her. But what if it went well? What if it was the best date he’s ever been on? What if they actually started dating? He’d always wanted to bring her back home to England one day to meet his friends and family. What if he introduced her as his girlfriend? Surely he wouldn’t hear the end of it from his friends. He could hear the endless amounts of ‘I told you so’ now. 

No, he couldn’t. That’s too weird. They’re best friends. Besides, he practically dated her roommate who is here with them now. Even if Aurora is dating Brett now, how weird would it be to hook up with Zoey on this trip with his ex-fling only feet away? Pretty fucked up.

Over a quick breakfast, Harry explained the plans. He had hired a guide to take them on a tour around Rome for the day. It would be as private as they could manage, as the company was made aware that Harry would be there and they did their best to arrange accommodations so that he could be in attendance without worrying about being hounded, though there was only so much they could do with high-tourist attractions, especially outdoors. He had explained to them to make sure they wore clothes that covered their shoulders and knees in case they visited any holy places to show respect and to make sure they wore comfortable shoes. 

As soon as everyone had finished getting dressed, they all piled into the SUV and headed towards the colosseum where they were lucky enough to find a car park nearby. The group walked the rest of the way, Harry walking in the lead with Nancy while Aurora talked to Katie, and Andy and Zoey linked arms together in the back. They circled the Colosseum until Harry saw a tall, tanned, long, dark-haired man wearing a red lanyard, his muscles popping through his tight, light blue button-up. 

“Please tell me that’s our tour guide,” Andy muttered, looking him up and down, causing the girls to laugh.

“Buongiorno!” the man called out, shaking hands with Harry first, before greeting everyone else. “Ciao. It’s so nice to meet you all. My name is Marco,” he introduced himself before getting everyone else’s name, “I hear you’ve come to Italy to celebrate someone’s birthday?” Everyone turned to Zoey, pulling her forward and she blushed at the attention. Marco smiled and she got a good look at his perfect teeth and beautiful brown eyes as he said, “Ah, Zoey, right? When is your birthday?”

“Tomorrow,” she said, holding his gaze. 

He lowered his voice, a slight smirk appearing on his face, “Well, happy almost birthday to you, then. You stay by me while I show you around. Front row seat to the show,” he winked, earning a smile and a nod from Zoey. If Jess were here to see this she’d shit her pants.

As Marco explained the process of the tour to the group, Zoey caught Andy’s eyes who mouthed, “OH MY GOD!” to which Zoey mouthed back, “I KNOW!” making her little sister giggle.

Eventually they followed Marco, with Zoey by his side, past a long line of waiting people and into the colosseum where he told them all about its history as an amphitheater that not only held gladiator and wild animal fights but also could be filled with water to hold mock naval battles.

Marco talked with such passion and enthusiasm that it was hard not to be interested. Harry snuck a peek at Zoey as they roamed and smiled as she scanned all around with such wonder. He could tell she was really taking in the scene and the information, completely invested in learning more about the history. 

It wasn’t until they were finishing up at the colosseum when someone had recognized Harry. He gave a quick grin and waved at the passing girl, ducking his head a little more as they made their way on over to the Forum, which was just next door. Marco did his best to inform them of the old marketplace, but the group became increasingly more interested in the Italian tour guide, interrupting frequently to ask more about himself, which he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he seemed to get enjoyment out of it. 

“Please tell us you’re single, Marco,” Andy boldly said, looking him up and down behind his glasses that sat perched on the tip of his nose.

Marco laughed and nodded, “Yes, I am single. What about you all? Has anyone here found their soulmate?”

Harry felt a nervous pit in his stomach when Zoey snapped her attention to him with a playful wink and he jokingly rolled his eyes at her before Nancy spoke, “Oh, honey. We can all be single if you want us to be.”

To which Rory coughed, “Except me. I’m the only one taken.”

“You have your pick,” Andy flirted.

“We don’t pick women here in Italy,” Marco laughed again and side-eyed Zoey before turning to her and saying, “but maybe the birthday girl was brought here for a reason.”

Harry watched as Zoey’s eyes widened, blushing, and trying to hide a smile while her friends all whistled at them. Annoyance began to sink in. Why was it that Zoey was always getting hit on? Zoey hardly said a word outside of asking more information on the history of the ancient architecture they visited, why the interest in her? Nancy was practically a model in her own right and Marco clearly got a kick out of her considering the number of times she made him laugh throughout the tour so far. Couldn’t he have gone for her?

“What’s next on our stop?” Harry interrupted, changing the subject.

As they made their ten-minute walk to the Trevi Fountain, their last stop before lunch, Katie and Zoey held hands, talking inaudibly with Marco while Andy and Nancy were behind them confessing their attraction towards their tour guide. Harry and Rory dragged in the back, trying their best to avoid eye contact with passerby’s in case anyone noticed them.

“Think she’ll get his number before we leave?” Rory whispered to him, nodding towards Zoey.

Harry shrugged, “Doubt it. We’re only here for the week.”

“I don’t know. You know her, wanting to be more adventurous and all that. What’s more adventurous than a fling with a hot Italian guy?”

“Skydiving,” Harry said simply.

Aurora laughed, looking over at Harry. But when she noticed he wasn’t joking, her smile faltered, eyeing him a little longer than usual before shaking her head, “Well, we’ll see. Maybe she won’t. Either way, she’s having a great time. I’ve never seen her smile so much. She’s like a little kid in a candy shop. It’s so cute.”

“Yeah,” he nodded, finally grinning, “She’ll definitely remember this birthday.”

The Trevi Fountain was packed with people so they couldn’t stay long in fear of it getting too crazy around Harry, so Marco quickly went over facts and the legend.

“Turn your back to the fountain and with your right hand, throw a coin over your left shoulder. One coin means you’ll return to Rome. Two means you’ll return and fall in love. And three means you’ll return, fall in love, and marry. I’ve got a few coins here for you all,” he passed them each one coin and they all squealed, squeezing their way through the crowd to the very edge of the fountain. 

Harry’s been here several times before, and for some reason, this was the part that always seemed to get to him. Out of the hundreds of beautiful buildings and ruins, the Trevi Fountain was always the spot that jerked at his heart. He was the first to throw the coin over his shoulder and stood back to watch the rest of his friends experience this moment. He laughed as Nancy and Zoey screamed at Andy, “Wrong shoulder, you idiot!” after he threw the coin over his right shoulder.

“Fuck! I panicked!” he shouted back.

He watched Zoey take a deep breath, close her eyes, and gently toss her shining coin over her left shoulder, turning just in time to see it ‘PLOP’ right in the water. He saw Marco step up closer to her brandishing another coin and heard him through the busy sounds of the plaza say, “One more. For the birthday girl. Maybe you’ll find love in Rome.”

He felt the heat rise in him, annoyed that Zoey was eating this up. And she wonders why she had such bad luck with guys. These are the type of men that she’s falling for. These typical sleazeballs.

“She better work,” Andy snapped, quietly cheering as she stood beside Harry, following everyone back through the crowd and towards the river to grab some lunch. 

Harry had made a connection with the chef of a wonderful restaurant last time he was in town and was invited to bring his friends for a free lunch, to which he refused to not pay, but did kindly ask if it were possible to have private seating towards the back. The chef graciously agreed, sectioning off a spot for them in anticipation of their arrival. 

Seeing the relationships Harry had made and the interaction between him and the wait staff made Zoey feel proud to know him. Every time she got to see him talk with a fan or someone that held him on any kind of pedestal always put into perspective for her how famous and admired he was. And to see him always be kind was no matter the circumstance was something that made her want to be a better person. She smiled, watching him converse, shake hands, and take pictures and videos with each worker that came up. He caught her looking and shot her a silly face, which only made her smile more. She was sure that this crush phase would be over at some point, but for now, she just loved the fact that this man was in her life.

Besides, at least there was Marco here to distract her for the day. A tall, smart, handsome Italian? Yes, please!  He was very forward, which startled her at first, but once she got used to him she was able to have very nice conversations about interests and even family. He seemed to like how close she and Katie were, expressing that he had a younger brother around the same age whom he was close to. 

“How about any older brothers?” Nancy joked, making them all laugh.

The lunch was incredible. She knew authentic pizza would be good, but she was guaranteed to dream about it for years to come. They all sang their praise and thanks to the chef before heading out. Zoey walked beside Marco, teaching them all about the Vatican, and made their way towards the museum. She took this time to look back at the group, seeing Harry and Aurora laughing with each other in the back. He looked happy. She couldn’t help but feel slightly jealous that it wasn’t her back there with him. It was silly to think he’d be over Rory just like that.

As soon as they got into the museum, her worries of Harry and Aurora seemed to float away as she became completely enthralled by the artwork that was displayed on the walls, the mosaics on the floor, and the sculptures that lined the perimeter. The Sistine Chapel was truly magnificent. Lined with Michaelangelo’s frescoes, you couldn’t help but get a little choked up. Nothing could even come close to describing the pure cultivated beauty. 

But St. Peter's Basilica was even more wondrous, captivated by the enormity and grandeur of the church and its architecture. The way the light shone through the dome of the church, hitting the beautiful artwork surrounding. Zoey was speechless.

Marco explained, “According to an agreement between the Italian state and the Vatican, Rome cannot build a taller building than the chapel. It guarantees the chapel the most amazing view of all of Rome. But, to get to the top you must walk five hundred and fifty-one steps. There’s an elevator that takes you up almost halfway up to the first terrace, but you’ll have to climb the rest of the way. It’s worth it for the view. Would any of you be up for it?”

“I would,” Zoey immediately agreed, eager to see the view.

“I’ll go,” agreed Harry.

“Nah, my ass is not climbing five hundred steps,” Andy shook his head.

Nancy pouted, “I didn’t wear the right shoes. My feet are killing me.”

“I can take them wandering around and meet you back here in thirty minutes to an hour?” Rory suggested, earning nods from Marco, Harry, and Zoey where they broke off and began their climb.

Admittedly, it was tiring. The steps got tighter as they neared the end and they began to feel slightly claustrophobic from the walls seeming like they were leaning in on them. But by the time they reached the top and stepped out to take in the view they were sold. Marco was right, the climb was worth it. They gripped onto the railing, overlooking the city amongst the other visitors that were too distracted to notice them. Marco had run into a friend of his at the top and excused himself briefly to talk to him, but they were too enthralled to care. 

“I cannot believe I’m here and get to see this,” Zoey breathed.

Harry turned to look at his friend who stared out at the view, captivated, with strands of hair flowing in the breeze. He grinned, “I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”

“You don’t understand,” she turned to look at him, almost teary-eyed, “People like me and my sister? We don’t get to go to Italy. We would have never been able to come here if it weren’t for you.”

She was always so genuine and grateful for everything she was given. Even if it was as simple as someone grabbing her a spoon. She must have thanked him over a dozen times for this trip already and it hasn’t even been twenty-four hours. Zoey stared at him and he was at a loss for words, unable to break his attention from her navy blue eyes. 

Finally, he managed to build the strength to tease, mocking her, “...are we about to kiss right now?”

She laughed, looking back over the city, “I could kiss you right now.”

He swallowed, frozen, staring at the shape of her plump lips, forced to imagine how soft they might be or what kind of kisser she was. Was it sloppy? Stiff? Calculated? How did she taste? Surely she still had a hint of sauce and cheese in her breath after the pizza they just ate. He wouldn’t mind. 

Shit. Maybe his friends were right.

KEEP READING

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Taglist for Somebody To You:

@thurhomish , @stilljosiegrossie , @odetostep , @apples2019 , @stylesmioamore

[blackfemmecharacterdependency]

5. A Public Place

Even if 8 years on the streets hadn’t made Grace suspicious, the couple of minutes that Simon spent opening up about his habit of watching someone did. Not so much that she discarded him as a potential friendly, but enough to request that when they hung out, it had to be in a public place. It was just her luck! Simon told her he knew the PERFECT place. “There’s tea and coffee, food and a cozy little atmosphere. Everything is very nice and I know the owner,” he told her. 

“Oooh, sounds sweet. Tell me where it is…”

“Le Bistro Parfait,” he said. 

She repeated it, with an even better pronunciation than he had into her maps and told him, “See you in… 45 minutes.” (He knew that it was only 30 minutes away from her, but maybe she had something to do and maybe she was trying not to let on her distance from the place. Regardless, he would see her soon, face to face… and it would be PERFECT, no matter what happened, because he’d be able to finally spend time with her socially, and because that was absolutely his mom’s place of business.

Grace felt a little bit caught off guard to learn that. “I’m not really a Mom person… I wish that you would have warned me that a mother might be involved…” 

“No, no… She’s not. She’ll leave us our privacy and just… make sure everything’s perfect.”

“I’m not mentally prepared for a mother on a first date, Simon.”

“THIS IS A DATE??” He asked, too loudly and too excitedly. “Sorry. I just… I thought that we were simply… hanging out. I’m sorry if this seems like too much. We can go somewhere else, if you want?”

“No, we’re here already. Besides, it smells really good,” she said, grabbing a menu and going to a booth, positioned with her back to the wall. Simon followed and sat across from her. He knew what he was going to order. “And what does your dad do?” Grace asked, not looking up from the menu. She supposed that he might work or be involved here, but Simon kept saying “My mom,” so that made it sound like it was just her thing alone.

“Live his life, getting my birthday mixed up with all of his other abandoned kids,” Simon said, looking out of the window.

“Oh. Sorry I didn't mean to stir up anything,” she looked up at him to say that.

“It's fine I don't talk about it enough for it to be… known information…”

“Apple falls far from the Laurent tree, I'm guessing?” Hoping. Because one thing she wasn’t going to do was get attached to somebody who was a rolling stone..

“No no no no no… that's not his name.. that's mom's name.” Grace felt like that was the wrong takeaway from her question, but. “The only thing I've taken from that man is the penchant for being terrible at making connections with normal people.”

“I think we're connecting just fine.” There was no emotion in her statement, and she shut the menu right when she said it. He couldn’t tell if she was offended? Joking? Just being honest and didn’t have emotional responses? He simply decided to take it at face value.

“Do… you also think that you count as normal?”

She smirked. Of course she didn’t, but what did HE know? “I think that you should think I count as normal.”

“Eh. If you were, I don't think you'd like me.”

“And what makes you think that I like you? How do you know I wasn't just bored or lonely?”

A blond, short woman with pale blue eyes and a familiar smile approached the table with coffees and Grace froze. She didn’t want to be introduced or anything weird or even just uncomfortable. But, the woman asked, “Do you know what you’ll want this afternoon? I already know this stickler’s order.” 

Grace ordered, in her finest French and bowed her head, cordially. The woman looked impressed and also confused, but simply strummed Simon’s cheek and said, “Right away.” 

Simon pulled from her hand and turned bright red. Grace giggled at this and he turned redder. “You’re doing just what she wants by being entertained,” he said.

“Then everybody’s happy! Now… what makes you think I like you?” She blew on her coffee, somewhat flirtatiously… Simon didn’t know that coffee blowing could look so alluring. He almost stumbled over his words.

“Well… you don't use your customer service voice and smile with me. There's a different smile and voice you have when we're together, unlike what you use at work.” 

“What if I have another voice and smile that I use outside of my customer service and they have nothing to do with liking people?”

“Then… that still sounds abnormal to me… but, that's one of the things I like about you. And so we're clear… I like you.” He turned the reddest shade she had ever seen for a person when he admitted that. She admired the gumption.

“Ha! Just you wait… you think you know it all.”

“Not it all… just… enough to consider myself knowledgeable.”

“Not on me, though,” she told him.

“Lucky for me, I’m willing to learn.”

.

Grace made a deal with herself. For every Date Night that she scheduled with 747 and the old gang, she would go on a nice date with Simon. They were in that awkward "getting to know you" phase and she was definitely in the realm of "getting to like you, getting to hope you like me."

One night, she and Xander were waterboarding somebody who practically drowned 298. The next, she was having a waterside picnic where Simon wrote and she read (something else), just… for the sake of being around each other. Talking could make both a little anxious at times and they both liked this. It was nice to be in somebody's presence and not have to perform, for Grace. Simon was just grateful that she wanted him around… and the waterfront was serene. Being with somebody and at peace wasn't something neither did with ease. The water brought that ease upon them. 

Another night, she and Xan might be breaking the limbs of a former enforcer who broke an arm or a leg to keep someone "in their place," and the next, she'd break the set of balls while trying to learn how to play pool. Simon is surprisingly good at this game! She's very impressed… he's not as great at teaching her, even though she's a quick learner, but she vows that eventually, she'll be better than he is and show him up. 

Grace spent a lot of time exacting sworn vengeance on really bad people, then turning around and trying to feel better about that by doing something really nice with a good person… because Simon was a good person, right? 

He was sweet, smart, and somewhat attractive. That counted as a catch, she figured. 

Grace never had a type before. Sure, she had thought about getting into the dating world sooner, but she hardly knew what she would be searching for. "Not a monster" was the height of her requirements, and as far as sexuality was concerned… she wasn't sure. 

All that she knew was that the thought of someone touching her in that way made her squeamish and nervous… but that was likely due to the fact that she had very bad muscle memory attached to the wrong type of touch and it unfortunately dated back to before she even realized what sexuality was. She even felt triggered at times when Simon casually came a little too close. That stunned look he would have as he rushed away, apologetically always snapped her back to reality… "Not a monster" also meant someone who feels bad when you mistake them for one… and that made HER feel bad. 

She would take her rage out on Date Night. Be it brass knuckles or nail bats, someone was going to suffer for the walls she didn't know how to lower for Simon. Someone who deserved it.

Then, Simon could at least reap the benefits of her blowing off that steam. Speaking of steam… she definitely splashed the dude that took Lucy's eye with scalding water, and immediately asked, while he was screaming in agony… "Is inviting somebody over for tea a good date?"

"What? At your home?" Lucy asked, toying with the butterfly knife that she had stabbed him in the eye with, flipping it open and shut.

"Yeah. I can order something from a bakery, set up some flowers from the shop.. and it might give us a chance to talk about stuff."

"Does he like tea?" Lucy wondered. 

Grace made an 'I don't know' sound and shrugged her shoulders.

"There's a tea house near the flower shop. Just invite him there. Why would you want a strange dude in your home?" 152 wondered. 

"We've been dating for over a month now. When do normal people invite people they're dating over for tea?" Grace wondered.

"That's not a thing!" All 3 of tonight's comrades informed her.

Simon never saw when they took the bodies away in the van. But, he had witnessed Grace jump on someone's back and make them inhale something, hit someone in the head to knock them out, cover someone's mouth and inject them with something… there seemed to be varying ways to collect their targets. (Yes, he was still following her a lot when they weren’t together, perhaps even more than he did before). 

He had begun to follow the news about the people that they took, too. Common threads seemed to be that they were all either suspected of something terrible or guilty of something terrible that they either got away with, or it was uncovered when they vanished. Every one of the crimes was related to children.

"That makes so much sense. Grace has a kind heart and a beautiful spirit. She loves children. She's doing the world a favor, honestly…" Simon said to Samantha while looking over his research. 

One thing that he hadn't successfully learned about was that "A" that they tagged the doors with. It reminded him of the Scarlet Letter, so he thought that perhaps it meant something about the predator that they had targeted. But after thesaurus diving into the A's, he hadn't found any words that could tie them all into the same package. Abusers? Aggressors? Atrocious? 

Of those that he had witnessed being taken and those that he found searching for similar cases, there had been people suspected of (or found evidence of) child prostitution, abuse, molestation, endangerment, and even murder! The way that the evidence would come about after their abduction led Simon to believe that Grace and her cohorts were responsible for getting it out there. Goddamn, he loved that woman. 

It was too soon to tell her that, but she was amazing. The fact that she could handle trash like that? And ALSO beat his ass in pool after he only taught her how to play a few weeks ago… "A woman who can do it all." PLUS… her photos of whenever she went to charity events. She always looked exactly like she belonged there. A high society picture of perfection. She was beautiful and brave. He wished that she would trust him. 

Bold of him to think that in the moment where he was technically violating her space… but that was because he loved her and wanted to understand her more… so… that was okay. Besides… she knew he did this - perhaps not to her, but she at least had enough knowledge to presume that he might or might have. She hardly blinked, thank goodness. He didn't know how he might feel being judged by someone who disappeared people regularly. Even if they were bad people. 

He heard his phone make the signature sound that she was sending him something. 

Wondrous Grace (Was how she was saved in his phone. He must NEVER let her see that, but like… he enjoyed it): I heard that normal people don't do this, but since we're not normal, I think we've reached the point in our relationship where I invite you over for tea.

Simon: Normal people don't do it? Or Americans don't?

Grace: Idk. Do you want tea or not, Dude? Because I harvested this stuff myself! 

Simon: I would love to have tea with you Grace.

Grace: Cool. Six pm tomorrow. I'm going to trust you with my address, okay? 213 Granderson Lane #4H.

Simon: Got it. See you then… I miss you.

Grace: Lol. Shut up, Simon.

But, she was smiling that smile that he always made her smile. The one that she felt in the depths of her loins, with tingles and leaps. "I think you love him," Xander teased.

"You can shut up too."

Simon was at home, with a very similar smile. About two weeks shy of two months, and he already had an invite to her home. He wished that she knew that he realized that was huge for her. Oh well… what on Earth does a person wear to tea? 

06. Passion Project

[imaginesforyourfandom]

Steal My Heart - Alex Morgan Imagine

(Y/N) POV:

You know you would think a party celebrating world champions would be more fun, but all I feel is bored. I’ve been in France the last month cheering on the US Women’s Soccer Team which has been a ton of fun, but I’m about ready to go home. There is only so much French culture I can take…like the lack of AC isn’t doing it for me.

The only saving grace throughout this trip has been my flirtmance with Alex Morgan. I know what you’re thinking that this is a curveball…where did that even come from? Here’s what happened…I met her at the beginning of the tournament, and she thought I was a fan who happened to be staying in the same hotel. So, I’m not going to tell her otherwise because then she might not be interested if she knew the truth. Besides, it’s not like we are being serious or that it’s actually going to go anywhere. Even if I might want it to…I get the vibes from her. You know those vibes like she’s probably going to sleep with me and then not call the next day…you know what I’m talking about.

Anyway, we’ve been flirting a lot and she seems to think every game I go to is for her…what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. So, I’ve continued the flirting whenever we see each other. I haven’t given her my number or any of my social media and she doesn’t seem to mind which only furthers my point about those vibes. She does want my number though…something I have not given her.

“I knew you couldn’t stay away from me…” I turned to see the forward in question lean against the bar next to me. I could tell immediately that she was hammered.

“Oh, you wish you were that lucky…” I said taking a sip of my water as she grinned at me. See, this was the hard part because she is so damn adorable.

“I just won my second world cup…I think luck is on my side.”

“Arrogance isn’t a good look on you.” I said as her smile widened.

“You’re a good look on me…” I rolled my eyes but failed to hide the smile that overtook my face. I’ll give her that…it was a good line. “What do I have to do to get your number?”

“Don’t get knocked out of the Olympics in the quarterfinals.” She pouted at me as I laughed.

“I don’t want to wait that long…”  I shrugged my shoulders at the forward.

“Guess you don’t want it that bad…”

“I do…I like talking to you…you’re different.”

“I bet you say that to all the girls”

“And some guys…” she joked as I glared at her. She shook her head when I moved to turn away from her. “I’m just kidding. It’s a joke.”

“I didn’t find it funny.”

“I didn’t find your Olympics joke funny” she countered as I narrowed my eyes slightly. She offered her hand to me. “Truce?”

“Truce.” I said shaking her hand. I went to pull my hand away, but she pulled me towards the dance floor. Before I knew it, she had her hands on my waist as I rested mine on her shoulders. She gave me a cheeky smile as we swayed to the music.

“Smooth”

“I’d like to think so.” She said as she pulled me a little closer. “I really like you.”

“You’re really drunk.” I countered earning a slight laugh and head nod from her.

“I am, but that doesn’t change how I feel. I want your number. I want to get to know you more.”

“I don’t want to give it to you.” I admitted earning a confused expression from her.

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want you to steal my heart.” She frowned as I continued. “I know this game…we continue this dance and then it ends with my heartbroken. I just can’t let that happen.”

“You assume I am going to break your heart?” she stopped dancing as I nodded my head at her question.

“You’re very sweet, but I see all the signs. The flirting and the way you interact with me…I would be dumb to think that I am the first person you’ve done this too.” She opened and closed her mouth a couple times which only confirmed to me that she didn’t disagree.

“You feel different…I can’t explain it. This is a horrible setting to have this conversation…but you make me feel different than anyone I have ever met.”

“I want to believe you, but I can’t. I’m sorry.” I said as I turned to walk back over to the bar. Once I was seated, I glanced back in her direction, but couldn’t find her. I sat there for a few moments before someone took the seat next to me.

“You look like you’re having a blast” my mom chuckled as I shrugged my shoulders.

“I’ve been to better parties.” She laughed as I smiled at her. “Congrats by the way. First coach to win back to back. It’s impressive.”

“Yeah? I am happy to have impressed you. Also pleased that you got to see this one” I nodded my head at her.

“I was happy to get to see it too. It’s an impressive group of women.” I admitted as we looked at the various players around the party.

“They are remarkable.”

“Are you going to miss it?” I asked knowing that she was set to step down.

“I am. I know I am not the most well liked, but I wouldn’t trade the last few years of coaching this team for anything.”

“I respect that.” I said as I looked around for Alex but couldn’t find her.

“Looking for someone?”

“Nope.” I said probably too quickly as my mother gave me a suspicious look.

“Are you hiding something?” I stared at her for a moment and before I could respond I was turned around and immediately felt lips attach themselves to me.

I felt hands grip my waist softly as my hands went to grip the other person to stop myself from falling. The other person pulled away as I was met with a smile from Alex. I stared at her in shock and started blushing really hard. Not just because she had just kissed me, but because she had done it in front of my mother. Her coach. This was about to be very awkward.

“That’s how you make me feel.” She said after a moment as I pulled away slightly. I turned to face my mom who looked incredibly surprised. Alex looked at her and then back to me. “Hey coach, have you met (Y/N)? She’s the future love of my life.”

“Alex shut up.” I mumbled as I rubbed my hand down my face as my mom looked at me with a look I couldn’t quite read. Alex looked at me in confusion as I looked at my mom. “I can explain.”

“I can’t wait to hear it.” She said with an amused smile.

“This isn’t what you think. It’s not like that.” I defended as her smile widened and Alex’s frown deepened.

“Wait…what’s happening here?” Alex asked looking between us with confusion. My mom let out a chuckle as she stood up putting her arm around me.

“Alex…I see you have gotten quite acquainted with my daughter.” She said as Alex’s entire facial expression changed as her jaw dropped, and she frantically looked back and forth between me and my mom.

“Your what now?”

“My daughter.” She answered with a laugh. “I think you need to talk. We are talking about this later.”

I nodded my head as she walked off. I sat down and immediately asked the bartender for a stronger drink than the water I had been drinking. Alex sat down as she opened and closed her mouth before staring at me for a moment.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked with wide eyes.

“You never asked.” I shrugged my shoulders taking a sip from the drink the bartender gave me. “You just assumed I was some excited fan.”

“Because you were at all the games!!…and at the same hotel…okay that makes a little more sense then you just being a stalker.”

“You thought I was a stalker…and you still flirted with me? Don’t you care about your safety?” I asked glaring at her.

“I do. No offense you don’t look that strong…I was fairly confident I could take you.”

“Asshole.” I mumbled rolling my eyes at her.

“Okay this is really weird for me…I need a moment.” I stared at her as she seemed to process everything. “Okay yeah no this doesn’t change anything for me…I still like you.”

“Oh, I’m so relieved.” I said sarcastically as she frowned.

“I’m serious. Is it a little weird cause your Jill’s daughter? Yes. I like you though and I want to take you on a date.” I stared at her with a small frown as I thought about it.

“No.”

“Why not?” she whined as I raised my eyebrows at her causing her to quiet down.

“You’re not used to being shot down, are you?” she didn’t say anything as I nodded my head taking her silence as a yes. I sighed as I reached for a napkin writing down my number. “You can call me and maybe we can talk about it…”

She grinned at me as I laughed. I leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. I stood up and walked away to find my mother to talk to her. I took a second to turn and look at her. She was grinning down at the napkin doing a little dance to herself. I smiled feeling a little hope rise in my chest. Dating her was definitely going to be a huge risk, but one that I hope pays off.

The End.

[junionigiri]

and you say, stay Chapter 6 - What You’re Missing

Chapter summary: Secretary Uraraka goes out on a date.

Rating: T

Thanks to the Director, she sleeps a grand total of 4 hours that night. Seems that no matter what that guy does, she ends up sleep-deprived. If it’s not deadlines, it’s unwarranted marriage proposals, and if it’s neither of those it’s his weird words and his clueless stare and his warm jacket and his infinite mochis and the silly boop at her nose and the best first date she’s ever had.

Granted she doesn’t have another first date to compare this to, except for that one guy in high school who gave her the french fries that came with his burger. Maybe it’s too presumptuous for her to say that it’s the best date ever. But, Director Todoroki closed down MightyLand for a date! And let her ride Space World seven times!!! If another guy existed in the world who could bring her to a private date in an amusement park and then feed her five-star food under the stars please stand up.

Actually, it didn’t have to be as stellar as this one. Anybody else who isn’t her Demon Boss is welcome to make her feel as giddy as she does now. Ochako still hasn’t accepted that she can allow herself to feel this way for her demon-of-a-boss. It doesn’t stop her stupid mouth from smiling the entire night, though.

“Your owner is too much. He totally ruined all the other first dates for me,” she tells Her Very Own Victoria (Victoria II for short) sourly. “And you smell like him so it’s also your fault I couldn’t sleep!”

The doll smiles innocently.

“Humph! You’re lucky that you’re really cute and really soft,” she mutters, burying her face into the cat doll’s plush head for the umpteenth time. She’s so frickin’ fluffy and just the exact size for hugging. Ochako can forgive that she looks like the first cat she’s ever met who has managed to become the bane of her existence.

Mid-hug, she feels something within the doll. Something hollow with edges, hidden within Victoria II’s little jumper. Warily, she inspects the pocket and fishes out a pretty box tied with a ribbon.

A teardrop-shaped moonstone hanging from a delicate silver chain shimmers prettily when she opens the box. It’s nothing like the big or flashy white gold/diamond encrusted pieces the Director gave his previous girlfriends, but Ochako instantly likes it without question. It’s dainty and so, so pretty, glowing a shade of blue that’s just like moonlight.

But she keeps herself from becoming too excited. There’s no note, no labels, nothing. Director Todoroki didn’t mention that he had two gifts for her and there’s no reason why he’d buy her anything like this. Maybe he left it here by accident?

She could have waited to ask him when she visits his penthouse in an hour, but she’s impatient and it might be awkward to tell him he gave her the wrong gift in person. She takes a chance and sends him a casual SMS:

Uraraka Ochako (0455 AM) [image attached]

Uraraka Ochako (0456 AM): this was in Victoria II’s pocket (*✧×✧*)

Director Todoroki (0456 AM): Of course it is. I put it there.

Director Todoroki (0456 AM): Do you like it?

Ochako is surprised for a couple of reasons--one is that he’s up super early, and another is that what, it wasn’t a mistake! Why would the Director give her something like this after treating her to so many other things last night?

Well… it isn’t always easy to see the Director’s intentions, but Ochako has had a nine-year master’s class on that. The most obvious answer is what he said last night--that is, it is simply something to say goodbye, to show his appreciation. Some bosses are just that generous. She’ll happily ignore all the other weird, confusing, (heartracing) things he said and did in favor of that very reasonable explanation.

Uraraka Ochako (0457 AM): Of course, Director!

Uraraka Ochako (0457 AM): I mean, sure do! (=✪ᆽ✪=) Thank you, I really like it!

Uraraka Ochako (0458 AM): Oh, I’m also leaving for the penthouse in a while. Please wait for me.

Director Todoroki (0458 AM): I’ll be fine. You can come to work at seven.

Uraraka Ochako (0459 AM): Are you sure? I’m awake now, it’ll be easy for me to come to you to assist you.

Director Todoroki (0501 AM): I’m sure. Just be ready with our agenda when I get to work.

Director Todoroki (0501 AM): [image attached]

Director Todoroki (0502 AM): By the way, this Victoria is requiring you to wear that necklace today.

The image he sends her shows the living British Shorthair in all her irate glory. She’s loafed up over a futon and frowning enthusiastically at the camera as if she’s aware that the photo is meant for Ochako. She’d chortle at the ridiculousness of it, but then she sees the Director’s long pajama-clad legs and a portion of his bare torso in the background and suddenly her face feels ridiculously hot.

Stupid Director. Despite that she sends him another thank you message and takes another moment staring at the necklace. It’s so pretty over her fingers, is it really okay to just wear it?

She clasps the delicate chain around her neck and stares at the moonstone hanging near her collarbone. Oh no , it looks nice on her. She can wear this to work everyday, and judging by the angry cat’s grimace she really has to.

Well, orders are orders, she thinks coolly as she tries her darndest not to explode in a giddy mess while getting ready for work.

*

“Ochako-chan?” Mina asks with narrowed eyes as soon as she steps in the office at six thirty in the morning. “You’re late?”

Office hours begin at eight, but the staff of the Office of the Executive Director usually starts their day at six. For Ochako to appear thirty minutes late without the Director is terribly unusual, and immediately everyone’s glaring at her suspiciously.

“Sorry. Traffic. It happens,” Ochako answers, fighting not to avoid everyone’s eyes. “But it’s okay, the Director knows. You guys shouldn’t worry about him being in a bad mood or anything.”

“This is most alarming,” Iida murmurs with a concerned flash of his glasses. “This has only ever happened once in your nine year history with the company! And that was during the big earthquake 5 years ago!”

Kirishima shakes his head. “Nah, she was in the director’s mansion during that one so it doesn’t count. But there was that time when the trains shut down so you had to parkour your way across town to get to work! The Director went Demon-King Mode over that one.”

“Yeah, and then he bought you a car. And then you gave it to Shoji,” Monoma deadpans in sheer, palpable jealousy. “So what, the Director’s gonna buy you another car today? Can you at least drive it once before you give it away?”

Honestly, why does everyone remember every single thing about her work history? “He isn’t going to buy me another car, Monoma.”

“If he does, you lose and I get the car.”

Whatever. “Deal.”

Satisfied, Monoma twirls back to his work and the others follow. All except for Camie, who’s waiting for her at their reception desk outside of the Director’s room. The taller secretary greets her with a coy smile. “Ocha-babes, those stories were cray. Did he really buy you a car?”

Ochako laughs nervously. “Yeah… he didn’t want me to be late ever again, but I can’t just take a car , y’know?”

“Ya. I gotcha,” Camie says with a wink. “That fab necklace tho? Wouldn’t guess that was Directoroki’s style but it’s cute on you so I say, keep that one.”

“Wh-what? No, this isn’t from--”

Maybe the wide-eyed sputtering is more incriminating than anything because Camie’s smile is bordering on shit-eating. So much for her elaborate lie of ordering it online. In any case, it’s too late to defend herself when Director Todoroki himself arrives without warning.

They stand up and bow. “Good morning, Director Todoroki.”

Even though it’s another rare morning where Todoroki had to do all his morning rituals by himself and his tie is a little crooked, Ochako is surprised at just how dapper he looks in a suit and how his hair looks different when it’s styled for work. She wonders why she’s taken aback by him now when Director Todoroki being handsome isn’t really anything new--in fact, it’s a requirement, the product of her hard work on most days. Is it because she didn’t see him at the penthouse today?

There’s an extra split-second his eyes spend searching for the stone over her collarbone, and another for his mouth to quirk upwards in approval. And then she knows exactly why she feels so weird.

“Secretary Utsushimi, confirm our next meeting with Takami-san from the Chairman’s Office. We need to see them before noon today. Don’t take no for an answer.”

“Gotcha, Director.” Camie is on it in a flash, that knowing, dangerous smile never leaving her lips as she dials the number. Ochako tries her best not to shudder.

“Secretary Uraraka.”

“Yes, Director.” After years and years of serving him, that’s all she needs to know what she has to do next. Gathering the day’s schedule, priority documents, and urgent letters, she follows him into the office.

*

Three days pass by them in the usual whirlwind of meetings and gruelling office work. Thankfully Director Todoroki has stopped acting as strange as he did during their private goodbye party, and Ochako has been able to focus on her work as she usually does. With the art center opening looming closer and closer and the day of work they’ll lose tomorrow for the annual mandatory Company Day, lord knows they need it.

There’s lots to be done, but on that particular day, Ochako is working double-time. She even skips lunch in favor of munching on just a couple of strawberry chocolates while she drafted letters at the speed of light. By 5 PM she is 95% done, so it’s worth it.

She lets herself drink her second cup of coffee in the office pantry next to Camie when Mina wobbles in, tired as hell herself. “Move over, ladies. I need coffee and I need it now,” she slurs hoarsely.

“Gurl, here you go. Rest. Relax. Lubricate.” Camie pushes a freshly made cappuccino over to her, which the pink-haired girl takes gratefully.

“Thanks gurl! You the best! Endeavor Secretaries are like, a different breed of human, ” Mina says with a sigh. “I haven’t seen the two of you get up from your desks the entire day, how are you guys still alive? ”

“Nah, I was just trynna keep up with Ocha-babes. She’s like, in beast mode today.”

Ochako laughs awkwardly. “Sorry, Camie-chan! I told you you could take a break anytime. It’s just that I have to leave early today, so…”

Mina makes a blubbering noise over her coffee. “Oh gurl wait. Is that today!?”

Ochako beams. “Yep!”

Camie looks at them one after the other. “Uh. What’s today, fam? Are you winning the lottery or something?”

“No, ~duh~. Well, maybe that’s one way to put it? The Lottery of Love. ” Mina snorts. “Our dear angel secretary here is finally going on a date!”

“Oh. Worm.” Camie’s smile is both coy and intrigued. Ochako can almost hear her thoughts ( I thought you and Directoroki was bonin’, but okay ) but all she says is, “That’s lit, fam~get it, gurl, I’m rootin’ for ya~”

Ochako shakes her head. “Nah, it’s just a blind date. I don’t even know if we’re gonna get along, so...”

Suddenly more energized than the half-dead state she was in when she walked in, Mina vibrates in excitement. “Oh my god, Ochako--I know the guy, okay, and like, I won’t spoil anything but I’m super sure that the next time we talk about it is the two of you inviting us to your wedding. So you better not be late, because--”

A shattering noise interrupts them from behind.

“--Bakugou’s as impatient as the Demon-- aaaaah, Director, you’re bleeding, what happened?!?! ”

“Ah.” Director Todoroki was, for one reason or another, looming behind them and holding a designer cup from Hermes. Was. Now it’s just shards of 100,000 yen ceramic along with blood and steaming green tea, which he regards with cold nonchalance.

“I broke my cup,” he replies blankly.

Ochako is the first to jump to his aid. She zooms past the other girls so she can take all the broken pieces off his hand and examine all the cuts up close. “I can see that! Director, what were you thinking?! Be careful! Oh my gosh you’re really bleeding!”

There are exactly four cuts, the longest of which is less than 1 cm, nothing deep, nothing that can leave a scar. Good, good. The tea hasn’t burned his right hand, which is a miracle. “Director, you’ll be fine. We just need to disinfect this quickly. I’ll bring you to the infirmary right now.”

Out of nowhere, her hands feel warm. Not from the tea or anything, but from something intense starts to make her skin tingle. When she looks up, Director Todoroki is staring at the point of contact of their hands, his gaze unreadable.

“... sweet,” Camie mumbles behind them.

The moment breaks. Ochako (and judging from the chill behind her, Director Todoroki as well) glare at her, while Mina gives her a sharp, meaningful nudge to the ribs.

“The cappuccino, I mean. It’s super sweet. The power of stevia, amirite,” the other secretary explains, smiling away the pain at her side. “Ocha-babes, the infirmary’s too far away. You can take care of Directoroki in the office, right? We gots a first-aid kit there.”

Ochako doesn’t appreciate the way her eyebrows raise, but Director Todoroki does not seem opposed to the idea. She leads the way back into the office, pulls out the first-aid kit, and treats his wounds over his plush office sofa. “Director, I know you’re clumsy sometimes but how did this even happen?! Should we return this set of tea cups? They might be defective...”

“No, this was an accident. There’s absolutely. No. Problem,” the Director grits out. He seems annoyed for an entirely different unspoken reason, but if he isn’t going to say anything, Ochako isn’t going to pry.

A few gentle dabs of disinfectant and a few bandaids later, the Director’s hand is looking better. If he needs to be in a photoshoot within the next 24 hours she’ll just have to tell the photographer to hide his right hand somehow. “There. Good as new. Well… almost.”

Todoroki flexes his hand experimentally. “It is. You can get back to work now.”

“Oh, about that…” Ochako straightens up and tries to keep her face from being too excited. “I’m almost done for the day, Director. All I need is your signature for this letter here…”

She shows him the English-language letter she drafted for him earlier. He looks through it with a scowl, taking longer than usual to search for any errors. She’s confident that there are none, though, and it is almost begrudging how he picks up his fountain pen to scrawl the characters of his name at the bottom.

“Thank you, Director,” she says with a bow. “Now… since all my work is done, I wanted to ask if I can leave early.”

Todoroki regards her with another fresh, cold scowl. “All of it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I don’t think I’ve seen that report from General Affairs yet.”

“You gave that assignment to Secretary Utsushimi. But, Shinsou from General Affairs submitted it this morning. You already replied to them.”

Todoroki hums. “How about that meeting with the Belgium group?”

“Monoma-kun and I have sent you and all the other division heads the agenda,” she answers confidently. “You also replied to us already.”

“And the marketing report for--”

“--there are corrections to be done over at Chief Midoriya’s office. Asui-san is taking care of it.”

“... Victoria.”

She blinks. “She’s admitted overnight at Dr. Koda’s clinic for an executive check-up, isn’t she?”

Todoroki huffs. “... well. It seems that you’re truly done for the day.”

Ochako raises her eyebrows expectantly. “... so…”

He stares at her for a few, strange moments. She feels his eyes scan hers, and then the necklace around her neck. He obviously isn’t happy for some reason, but his mood shifts a little seeing the stone over her collarbone.

“All right,” he says. Ochako wonders if she imagined him mumbling, you win. “You are dismissed.”

Ochako smiles and bows as she leaves the office. “Thank you, Director. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

Oh my god. I pulled it off. Feeling adequately victorious, she takes her phone out and sends someone a message. I’m on my way. See you in twenty minutes!

*

She makes it to the Dagobah Seaside Park in eighteen minutes. Normally she’d be wary to appear so eager, but Kirishima-kun and Mina-chan were pretty pushy about her not being late, so she rushed there as quickly as she could. She only had time to fix her hair a little as she stood near the bench where she’s supposed to meet her date. She fishes out her phone just to make sure that she hasn’t missed this guy, but then an abrasive voice calls out to her from behind.

“Oi.”

Turning swiftly, she looks to the source of the rasp. “Oh… Bakugou Katsuki-san?” she asks cautiously.

“Yeah. Who else?”

He’s got the most intense pair of red eyes she’s ever seen on a person, and the fluffiest blonde hair. The scowl on his face looks as angry as it does in all the photos that Kirishima has shown her. Even the rasp of his voice is exactly the same as it sounds in all his Youtube videos. It’s impossible for her to mistake the guy for anyone else, and he knows it.

“Yeah, who else?” she agrees with a laugh that she hopes doesn’t sound too uncomfortable. “Nice to meet you! I’m Uraraka Ochako.”

“I figured. You’re the only roundface in this shithole,” he says with a shrug.

“ Roundface?! ” she repeats, after an affronted pause.

“Yeah.” Bakugou has no reservations at all to peer in closer to her face, as if examining an alien life form. “Shit. I thought Shitty-Hair was shittin’ me when he showed me that picture of you stuffing your face with beef ribs. I didn’t think anyone’s face would be this round. What the fuck. You’re like a fuckin’ hamster.”

“Hahaha, oookay.” Ochako steps back away from his fingers which definitely has ill intentions against her cheeks. “Well, I dunno what to tell you, I was born with ‘em. How about you, were you born with Pomeranian fur on your head?”

She definitely doesn’t want to be rude, but he’s managed to say so many curse words and vague insults within the first five seconds of meeting her, and it’s weird.

Bakugou scowls at first, which she expected, but then he laughs--a rough, barking sound. “Damn, talking shit off the bat? To me?! I underestimated you, cheeks, you’re tougher than you look.”

Ochako scrunches up her face. “Not used to it?”

“Nah.” Bakugou smirks. “That means you can keep up with me. Let’s go. Wasting fuckin’ daylight here.”

Ochako follows him along the boardwalk and into a small, hip restaurant at the beachfront. Kirishima must have told him about her fear of fire, because he tells her that he would have brought her to this grill he liked that served ‘good spicy shit on skewers.’ He assures her however that ‘this dump isn’t that bad and there’s no fire.’

“Oi, Soysauce-Face! Get us a table,” Bakugou barks as soon as they step in the establishment.

A tall, plain guy whom he addressed as ‘Soysauce-Face’ turns to him with an exasperated look that turns into a smile when he sees Ochako cowering behind her handbag. “Oi, Bakugou! Date night, huh? I didn’t think you had the balls to go through with it.”

”Go die,” Bakugou grumbles. He doesn’t even wait for the guy to take them to their seats and just picks the nicest booth with a view of the ocean, tossing out the little reserved signage on it without remorse. Meanwhile the guy, whose name is Sero according to his nameplate, follows her with a menu.

“So… Uraraka, huh?” Sero grins after she introduces herself. “You’re Kirishima’s friend from the office. Well, it’s been ten minutes and you haven’t run away screaming from Bakugou yet, so I guess it means the date’s going well.”

“Shut up, Soy Boy,” Bakugou grumbles. “Get us some fuckin’ ramen already. Roundface is starving.”

So, from the first few moments of the date, Ochako can already pick out things about Bakugou that definitely leave much to be desired. The most obvious of them is his potty mouth and his staunch refusal to call anyone by their actual names. Even though ‘Roundface’ and ‘Angelface’ are better than the names he called his friends (apart from the rude names he called Kirishima and Sero, he called Mina ‘Raccoon-Eyes,’ and there were two others in the group called ‘Pikashit’ and ‘Ears’), it’s definitely putting a damper on the entire dating experience.

Okay, so that’s the biggest problem with Bakugou. The other things, she admits, might just be her being picky. Like Bakugou ordering for them without asking her what she liked. Bakugou scowling at everything. Bakugou’s tendency to scream when he’s calling for Sero’s attention. Bakugou picking a place that’s super crowded and not at all private and intimate. Bakugou only being kinda tall but not really that tall, unlike Director Todoroki--

--He drapes his coat around her easily. He’s much taller than her and has wider shoulders, so naturally she’s--

Wait, Ochako thinks in alarm, Where did that come from?

“Oi. What’s eatin’ you, Cheeks?” he grumbles as she literally shakes her head free of any invasive thoughts about the Director.

“Nothing,” she laughs awkwardly. “Just that, um, this ramen’s really spicy, huh?”

“Hah? That shit is not spicy.” To demonstrate his point, he dumps another handful of ghost peppers in his. “Mine’s better. Try it.”

Ochako rolls her eyes. “Thanks, but I’m not interested in getting hemorrhoids.”

“Roundface, what the fuck. Don’t talk about that kinda shit in front of food.”

Okay, so maybe she’s just picky. If she ignores all those things, this date is actually pretty fun. Despite all the profanities, Bakugou is an interesting person to talk to. He has a lot of stories as extreme investigative journalists tend to have, but to her surprise he asks her things about herself and almost seems (begrudgingly) interested. Ochako can’t imagine why--she’s just an average secretary of some hotshot executive downtown--but somehow she’s telling him about her interest in astrophysics and judo classes at the Gunhead Dojo, and suddenly she seems pretty interesting herself.

“Huh. And here I thought you were some fragile chick,” he says with a smirk. “You know you gotta prove it now, right? On our second date, we should try to beat each other’s asses or something.”

“You got weird kinks, mister,” she says with a playful look of disgust.

“What, you gonna say no?”

“Well… you look like you could use a good ass-kicking. Let me think about it.”

He laughs gruffly again, and is it weird how comfortable she feels? He doesn’t seem to mind when she acts like herself.

And he really is handsome, the way bad boys are handsome--rough, headstrong, the exact polar opposite of the quiet, refined grace that Director Todo--

“Seriously cheeks, if you got hemorrhoids I’ll take your ass to a CVS or something.”

Ochako puffs her cheeks. Dammit, she’s finally spending time with a guy who isn’t the Director, she has to be better than this! “Let’s stop talking about hemorrhoids. Don’t talk about that kinda shit in front of food.”

Bakugou grins. “Weirdo. What kinda office lady talks like that?”

… It’ll take a lot of getting used to, but she guesses that the two of them can get along, after all.

Oh, although there is another thing to be concerned about--all the looks they’re getting in the restaurant. She should have expected this since she is with Bakugou Katsuki, the infamous independent journalist who’s known for exposing corruption and organized crime and living to scream about it. She’s still surprised when the first set of fans come up to their table asking for an autograph, though.

“B-Bakugou Katsuki-san?” a timid college kid asks, shaking in his boots. “I don’t mean to bother you, but I’m a big fan of Ground Zero , and that expose you did on Detnerat Corp was--”

He clicks his tongue. “Piss off, nerd. Go die.”

“Bakugou-kun!”

“What?”

Ochako is about to defend the poor fan, who is shaking even more in his boots. But then the kid bows, looking happier than a lark. “Th… thank you for the words, Bakushinchi! Oh my god, dude, did you see that? Bakugou-fuckin’-Katsuki cussed me out like I’m trash!!! Did you get it on video?!”

Dumbfounded, Ochako watches as the fan gushes about the experience to his other friends. She looks at Bakugou oddly. “Okay, that was weird.”

“Tch. Yeah. All fuckin’ nerds is the same.” He dumps his chopsticks on the table, followed by a few crisp bills from his wallet. “Let’s get the fuck outta here.”

Ochako doesn’t argue. It’s about time they left anyway--has it really been three hours since they started talking? Sero waves at them with a smile that’s all too exasperated as they leave his restaurant.

They move on to a cafe that’s definitely quieter and less crowded than Sero’s. There are very few people giving them interested looks, but no-one looks like they’re going to bother them. Ochako gets a giant strawberry parfait while Bakugou frowns at her over his espresso.

“Tch. You’re gonna get diabetes,” the irate blonde grumbles.

“I’ll live,” she says with a happy sigh. “Gosh, strawberries are the best. And look how pretty it is! You don’t know…”

With the taste of strawberries lingering in her mouth, she follows him... Flowers of all colors surround their feet, glowing ethereally under the moonlight. The city below, the stars above. It’s a beautiful night.

“... what you’re missing,” she finishes lamely. Suddenly, the parfait doesn’t taste that good anymore, and she only has Director Todoroki in her mind. As she has intermittently, for most of the night.

She sucks at dates, doesn't she.

“I’ll live,” he says with a scowl. “Anyways, you told me that you had something to ask me.”

Oh, right. Her lackluster dating history aside, there’s another important reason why she agreed to this blind date at all--the fact that Bakugou Katsuki is a brilliant investigator.

Suddenly pensive, Ochako puts her dessert spoon down and takes a deep breath for courage. “Right. Um, so I know that we just met and I shouldn’t ask any big favors, but--”

Bakugou clicks his tongue so sharply he could have cut her bangs. “Just spit it out, Pink-Cheeks!”

“Okay, geez.” Again, Ochako takes a deep breath. It isn’t easy telling anybody this, because the hazy memories have an alarming tendency to make her hands shake. “There’s an incident that I’ve been trying to get information on, but over the years I’ve come up empty. Since you’re good at this stuff, I wonder if you can help me find it. Oh, but it might be impossible--”

“Unless you’re makin’ shit up, I’ll get that, no problem. What, you think I can’t? ” With an insulted grunt, he says, “What incident are you talkin’ about?”

“I’m not making it up,” she says, although there’s a tiny sliver of doubt at the center of her heart. Who knows how much of that did or didn’t happen when her memories are so bad? “There used to be a neighborhood near MightyLand in the nineties that’s demolished now. Back in 1995, a fire broke out from one of the houses there.”

“... a fire, huh.”

Ochako nods. “A big one, too. I… don’t remember why, but I was sure it was... arson. I’ve looked for articles about arson or accidental fires or anything at all in that year, but apart from records of Endeavor buying out that land years later, there’s nothing that comes out.”

She had considered that no-one would care about fires in a neighborhood filled with poor people, but it’s frustrating that there’s absolutely zero evidence of it happening.

Bakugou, unexpectedly, has her rapt attention. “Endeavor bought out that land, huh.”

“Yes,” she answers carefully. “But years after that incident. From what I know, they eventually gave that land to the Might Group, which they used to expand the amusement park. It’s all legitimate.”

He rubs his stubbled chin thoughtfully. “Ya got a clue about the people in that fire?”

Ochako is hesitant to say anything about that. But she relents, “I’m sure there was… a woman there. And a boy. Probably five years old at the time. Um, I’m not sure about the others.”

“Huh.” The interested glint in the blonde’s eyes intensifies like ember. “Were they mother and son?”

“Um.” Come to think of it, even if her instincts told her they were mother and son, suddenly she’s not so sure. She can’t even remember what they looked like anymore. “I… don’t remember--I mean, I don’t know who they are, so it’s hard to tell.”

“So I take it you didn’t check for records on kidnapping or anything like that.”

“... no.”

She can hear his thoughts racing a mile a minute. “Yeah, sure. I’ll get you that story, Roundface. Fuckin’ easy.”

She exhales in relief. “Thanks so much! It’s been on my mind for so long, it’s driving me crazy.”

It’s also a relief for her that Bakugou doesn’t ask her any questions as to why she’s interested in the incident, although that’s a little strange in itself. Either he’s figured out things on his own, or he expects to know as the investigation goes on. But if he asked, she’s going to give him an honest answer. Anything, as long as she gets some clarity after twenty-four years of wondering.

“... oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t even offer you any compensation or anything.”

Bakugou shrugs. “Ain’t interested in your dirty corporation money. But there is somethin’ you can do for me.”

She should have known. The mischievous smile on his face and the menacing twitch of his hand going for her face is all bad news. “You are not pinching my cheeks on the first date, Bakugou Katsuki.”

“No?” he snickers. “Newsflash, Angelface. I do whatever the fuck I want.”

*

Outside that particular cafe, Hagakure Tooru, the overworked secretary of Marketing Division Chief Midoriya Izuku, is grumbling all the way home. “Tsuyu-chan, I’m so tired! How have we lasted in Marketing for this long?!”

Tsuyu makes a sound that sounds exactly like a frog’s croak. It’s a weird mannerism that gets her a lot of weird looks, but Tooru reckons that all brilliant people had weird mannerisms and that’s probably the price to pay. Anyways, Tsuyu-chan is cute when she does it. “It’s super tough, Tooru-chan, but we get by. Besides, Midoriya-chan is a good boss who always knows what to do, so that makes it a lot easier.”

“Oof… he’s good all right. Too good,” Tooru huffs in exasperation. “I mess up at least once a day! And he’s always so nice about it. Sometimes I wish he’d just tell me off, y’know? I’m starting to get embarrassed!”

Tsuyu chuckles. “Just keep doing your best, Tooru-chan.”

“I aaam! But I know he’d like a secretary like Ochako-chan. Too bad that she’s the demon Director’s--”

Oh, speak of the devil?? Or, the angel, in this case. “Isn’t that Ochako-chan in that cafe over there?!”

On a table near the glass windows of a trendy cafe, Uraraka Ochako sits across a blonde guy with nice arm muscles. She seems to be smiling at him. “Oh. You’re right, ribbit. ”

“And on a date?!”

Tsuyu nods. “It’s nice that she finally has some free time since she’s resigning. Anyways, we should…”

Click.

Tsuyu looks at her with wide, unbelieving eyes. “Did you just take a picture of her and her date?”

“Uh, yeah?? I mean, look at how sweet they are! That guy’s touching her face so tenderly~”

“I wouldn’t call that touching,” the green-haired girl comments, pointing to the picture. The blonde guy’s obviously pinching her cheeks like dough. “And I think you should delete that photo. We should respect their privacy.”

She chuckles as she presses send. “Too late~! I’ve sent it to our group chat with Ochako-chan! Aw, Tsuyu-chan, don’t look so worried, I promise that this is just for the three of us!”

Tsuyu croaks. “That would be okay… except you sent it to Midoriya-chan, ribbit .”

Tooru does a double take on her phone screen. Oh, shit! “Wait, I can delete this--” she cries, just as a little checkmark at the bottom of the photo appears with the word read. “Oh noooooo! Not again!”

“Ribbit,” Tsuyu sighs in exasperation.

*

At around the same time, Shouto is drinking with Midoriya at his penthouse. They have their usual glasses of whisky between them. Sato comes by with a plate of zarusoba for him and katsudon for his green-haired friend. Shoji comes back from Dr. Koda’s to tell him that Victoria is doing splendidly. It’s a pleasant, stress free night and there’s absolutely nothing in Shouto’s mind that’s bothering him.

“You’re awfully relaxed,” Midoriya observes with a curious smile.

He sips his whiskey with sheer ease. “I am. All our projects are going along well, and Victoria’s healthy. Why wouldn’t I be relaxed?”

He laughs. “Uraraka-san’s blind date’s going on right now, isn’t it? I’d have thought you’d be, um, curious about it by now.”

“Why would you assume that?”

A muscle visibly twitches under Midoriya’s eye. “Well, you know, ‘cause you’ve been so dead set on wooing her so she’d marry you? And you made me do all those crazy things to help you? Not that I’m complaining about how crazy stressful it was or anything, but…”

Shouto cuts him off with a look of nonchalance. “Even so, I’m not worried about Secretary Uraraka going out on a single date with an unremarkable person. Objectively speaking, there’s no way that an ordinary person will interest her after our date.”

“Well, you may be right. But she wants ordinary, so I mean, I’d be a little worried.”

Midoriya is always expecting the worst. Shouto, however, is completely confident in this one. No ordinary man can do all the ordinary things she wants the way Shouto did them for her. “This date will end earlier than either of them planned. I’m sure of it.”

“Well, okay.” Midoriya’s phone vibrates on the table at that exact moment. He makes a surprised sound as he sees the screen. “Oh. Secretary Hagakure sent me a picture… huh, hottie alert, three bomb emojis…?”

“... you allow your secretary to speak to you that way?” Shouto asks, genuinely curious.

Midoriya laughs awkwardly. “N… no, she must have sent this by accident again. I mean, it’s fine, one time she sent me a video of Kirishima-kun doing push-ups at the helipad at Endeavor Tower… oh wait, I shouldn’t have told you that--”

Shouto shows him a face that just does not care, and Midoriya’s relieved for that. “Anyway, just gimme a sec to delete this… wait. This is Uraraka-san and--”

Shouto watches all the blood drain from Midoriya’s face, which happens in an impressive span of 0.75 milliseconds. “Is this… Kacchan?! ”

Shouto takes the phone from Midoriya’s grasp before either of them realize it. On the screen, Secretary Uraraka sits at a nondescript cafe. She’s wearing the same outfit she wore in his office hours ago, with the moonstone gleaming blue over her pale collarbone.

Across from her, an ordinary blonde man--no, an ordinary blonde punk --is reaching over and pinching her cheeks. The guy is smiling. Uraraka’s got an uncomfortable grimace that can easily be mistaken as a smile.

What the hell is this.

“T… Todoroki-kun, my phone, you’re destroying my phone--” Midoriya pleads from somewhere next to him.

How dare this… whatever the hell this guy is. Pinching his secretary’s cheeks familiarly and making her uncomfortable. Unforgivable. “What the hell is a Kacchan?”

Midoriya yelps as the world rumbles around him. “Th-that’s a guy I knew from childhood! Kacchan--I mean, Bakugou-kun… he’s that reporter who does those exposes! Remember, he did that one about Detnerat a couple years back?”

Ah, that one. He and his team exposed that the company used their technology to spy on their consumers for all sorts of delicate data. They were involved in a lot of unsavory things--organized crime, graft, bribery, cults. It was big news that led to their downfall and indirectly helped Endeavor Inc. prosper. Shouto thought it was impressive before, but now...

“That is not an ordinary man. Why would Uraraka be with him?”

Now, he feels threatened. Another person is out to get someone that belongs to him . And for once, he isn’t sure about the outcome.

“I… I don’t know,” Midoriya yelps. “Wh… where are you going, Todoroki-kun?”

Before he realizes it, the quiet Shouji and the alarmed Midoriya are chasing him as he’s on the way out of the door. He clicks his tongue and rushes out of the penthouse in irritated silence.

*

Ochako massages her cheeks in irritation. “You really went overboard there, Bakugou-kun,” she grumbles.

He sneers at her. “Your fuckin’ fault for having marshmallow cheeks.”

Bakugou doesn’t have a car, just a motorbike. He offered to take Ochako home on it, but it’s too scary. If she got in an accident, she wouldn’t be able to participate in Company Day, and Director Todoroki wouldn’t be happy about his office starting the games with a big disadvantage.

They’re waiting for the Uber to come pick her up. Bakugou clicks his tongue in distaste. “Tch. That icyhot bastard. Shitty Hair and Raccoon Eyes told me all about how he got you dangling on a string.”

She laughs lightly. “No, he’s not as bad as it sounds.”

He scowls. “Yeah he is. I get it if you’re just a chickenshit who’s scared to die on a motorbike, but you don’t wanna ride with me ‘cause you’re afraid of disappointing that half-and-half for fuckin’ Company Day. Your shitty boss has got you fuckin’ whipped .”

That almost sounds like a valid point. Puffing her cheeks in annoyance, she mumbles, “I’m also scared that you’ll kill us both. Don’t get me wrong.”

“Whatever.” Bakugou mindlessly fishes out a cigarette from his pocket. “That Uber’s taking his time. I’m gonna give that bastard a piece of--”

When the lighter comes out of his pocket, Ochako’s heart stops. She watches, frozen, as his thumb grazes the wheel of the lighter, threatening to form sparks. The fire’s already starting in her head even before it does in reality. She wants to stop him, but all she can manage is a squeak.

He hears her frightened noise and looks at her with alarmed red eyes. “Shit, I forgot.” He raises both his hands in the air. “I’m not lighting anything up, okay, calm your--”

It happens very fast: one moment Bakugou is talking, the next a hand decorated with bandaids appears out of nowhere and shoves him right in the face. He manages a swear word in before he attacks the person by pulling on his tie and swinging a fist.

The fist misses--barely. The other person steps backward, fist drawn back and mismatched eyes absolutely livid. Ochako finally processes what’s going on.

“Director Todoroki?!”

True enough, Todoroki Shouto is there on the sidewalk, eyes glowing and aura so threatening she swears she sees a mountain of ice looming behind him. He’s got a hand on Bakugou’s collar, while Bakugou has one hand on his. They both burn with obvious murderous intent.

“Half-and-half bastard!” Bakugou grits out, struggling against his grasp. “The fuck was that for?! You wanna die?!”

With a cold, cold voice, Todoroki answers, “You were about to send my secretary into a panic attack. I merely did what I had to do.”

She knew about the Director’s temper intimately. He’s calm like a bomb hiding in the lull of the ocean--cold, controlled, and terrifying in that way. But this… this is different. It only lasted for a few seconds when his hand landed over Bakugou, but Ochako saw it: unfiltered, uncontrollable rage.

For a moment, Ochako thought she was looking at Todoroki Enji.

Her instincts scream at her to stop him before it’s too late. “Director, I’m fine! Please don’t hurt him!”

“Tch, who’s hurting who? I’ll kick his ass!”

Thankfully, despite Bakugou’s rant, the Director listens to her and lets Bakugou go. The frightening chill in his eyes gradually ebbs, slowly, slowly. It takes a few moments before it’s completely gone, leaving a mildly confused look in his eyes that tells her he isn’t sure how he got there either.

“Secretary Uraraka--”

“--Kacchan! Todoroki-kun! Stop!!!”

Chief Midoriya comes running out from a car somewhere, followed by an alarmed Shouji. Ochako is left wondering what a Kacchan is, until she sees how the blonde’s face sours instantly.

“Shit, here we go,” Bakugou mutters, rubbing his face violently with one hand.

“Ohmygod I was so worried that both of you were hurt I didn’t know what was going on Kacchan I swear but we found out you were with Uraraka-san by accident and Todoroki-kun got worried and I swear I tried to stop him but--”

Ochako can hardly process a single word Chief Midoriya is saying. The other men are also starting to appear pretty overwhelmed about the word vomit accompanied by an onslaught of tears. Bakugou, in particular, is beginning to tick like a dynamite about to blow.

“--and if you were going to fight in the street Shouji-kun and I were ready to punch you guys just so you calm down but I’m glad you didn’t and--”

“Shut the fuck up, shitty Deku!”

This time, Bakugou launches himself toward the murmuring Chief, who gasps and flinches away. Luckily, the stoic Shouji successfully separates the two of them. Amidst the curses of the angry blonde, he turns questioningly to Director Todoroki. “Sir.”

The Director merely shakes his head. “We’re done. Secretary Uraraka, you’re coming with me.”

Before she can stop him, the Director’s grip is already on her wrist and she’s being dragged to his car. “Wait, Director--”

“Oi, asshole.” Bakugou’s stare is dark and unforgiving when he regards Todoroki again. “You think you can just walk away from me after trying to beat the shit outta me? I can charge you for assault, y’know.”

Director Todoroki gives him a look that’s just as dark. “Are you threatening me? Is this the part where you’re going to blackmail me for money?”

“Don’t insult me,” he growls. “Fuckin’ rich boy, you think throwing your dirty money around makes your problems go away? You think people can be bought and treated like property?”

He’s staring at the point where Todoroki’s got a hold on Ochako’s wrist. The Director notices and pulls Ochako even closer to him, far from Bakugou’s reach.

Midoriya turns to Bakugou. “Kacchan… please. Director Todoroki isn’t going to do it again,” he whispers fearfully.

Bakugou rubs his face with his hand. “Shut up, Deku. I’m not gonna ruin your shitty boss. But remember that I can if I want to.” He doesn’t hide the look of disgust in his eyes seeing Ochako behind the Director, but he still calls out to her as if he wasn’t there: “Uraraka, I’ll call you. I’m outta here.”

“A… all right, Bakugou-kun. Thank you,” she manages to say as he leaves, even when her wrist starts to feel like it’s freezing.

There’s a look in Bakugou’s eyes that tells her that he plans to come back for her soon. For her not to worry, he’ll get her out of there too, because suddenly he needs to do it for her. It doesn’t last long, though, as he shoves his helmet on and rides off on his motorcycle, not looking back once.

Todoroki Shouto’s grip on her suddenly feels like a ball and chain. As they walk to his car, he doesn’t let her go.

[kariachi]

”So, we’re gonna start today’s Martin Mystery rewatches with The Vampire Returns. Should I have listened to more of the Young Frankenstein soundtrack during lunch in preparation? Probably. But here we are instead.

I love how this show always specifies the exact time shit starts going down. For instance, in this episode, 10:32 pm CEST

~~

Good on Lady Soulsucker’s date for paying enough attention to notice when the girl he’s out with grows fangs and her eyes start glowing. You don’t see that often enough.

Aw and then she takes the daintiest bite of apple with teeth bigger than Date-Dude’s face.

I wonder how they got out without being noticed... can’t remember if the vampires in this episode can do the ‘turn to fog’ thing. Sure I’ll find out later.

~~

Diana sitting there with a book and a crowd of impressed young ladies. What are you showing them, Diana? Did you make this book yourself? Did you mother write it? I can’t think of a reason for the ooo-ing and ahh-ing going on otherwise. Either that or you managed to attract a pack of lesbians and they are trying to get in your pants.

...ya know I’m kinda all for the idea that Diana has unwittingly attracted a chunk of Torrington’s lesbian population and they are all trying to smooze in the awkward way that only a young gay can manage.

Also hello Tonio, it’s nice to see you. I’m going to have to include you in this in some way, I believe, given the location and also that this is a fic for nix.

Martin, Martin, sweetie, no. You are not getting that girl. There were actual sparkles coming off her, you don’t deserve that sort’ve quality. Plus, ya know, she sounds like your brand of nerd isn’t her style. I know the saying is “aim for the moon, if you fail you’ll land among the stars” but let’s be realistic for five seconds

Tonio can see this disaster coming from a mile away.

Amber is not having it, solidly unimpressed. I’m shocked.

You think the girls at this school ever rate the boys and just, give Martin a solid 6/10 for effort and moxie alone? “We wouldn’t date him, but at least he’s entertainingly stupid.”

Amber’s look of shock and concern at the idea of Martin enjoying studying. Like she’s about to call in the Psi Psi Psi girls and Diana, clearly their moron has fallen ill. Diana, meanwhile, is just pissed and I can’t decide whether the idea that this is because Martin is lying to get a date or because ‘has he been lying for the past our entire lives’ is funnier.

Though, given we’ll be working with witch!Martin for this it’s not like he’s lying. He just doesn’t like studying, well, anything they teach at Torrington. (Although I am still a big fan of the idea that he’s perfectly bright and just doesn’t apply himself like, at all.)

Martin don’t growl at your sister, you’ll get enough chances to in season 3.

And Amber trying to let him down easy.

~~

“Very rare, and totally irreplaceable” and you, all the way into season 2, are going to work with them, in your office, immediately after calling in Martin- known disaster and Destroyer of Projects? I swear you’d think MOM wanted her crap ruined. After a point you have no one to blame but yourself.

Martin no.

I repeat, MOM, no one to blame but yourself. Most people with an ounce of sense would stow away the shit they didn’t want destroyed when the guy who keeps destroying shit was called in.

Diana no. You’re being sent on a mission not a fucking river cruise.

~~

Introducing, the world’s scariest tunnel of love. First condoms in the water, now people going missing, this dude is just done.

Well Lady Soulsucker just fucking demolished that place didn’t she. Godsdamn, forget shutting it down because people disappeared, shut it down because it’s officially a safety hazard.

Okay, access hatch in the ceiling, that explains that.

...Okay but Martin isn’t entirely wrong with his assessment here? Something strong and nocturnal is right on the nose, and while the werewolf and half-beast-half-humanoid (and I love he uses that word specifically) hybrid guesses aren’t quite right, they aren’t far off the mark. He brought his A game today.

Diana, darling, kids playing practical jokes generally don’t leave fair rides completely demolished in their wake. That is not a normal occurrence.

Java about to eat half-consumed food off the floor like child did Diana not teach you better than that? I wouldn’t be surprised Martin didn’t but Diana?

500 year old saliva. This is the sort’ve ridiculousness I expect from this show. What, did Lady Soulsucker not swallow, spit, or brush her teeth since she escaped her coffin? Was she going around with 500 years of no brushing on her breath? Of course she’s got vampire hypnosis it’s the only way she could get a date.

Vampire goes rwar at children, flees into the sun to escape capture. Also he may need some heavier clothes, those don’t seem to be keeping the sunlight out.

~~

Martin no.

Billy making himself useful. Helping them follow the massive flashing clue that is the vampire’s clothing.

Martin slow your jock-ass down

Martin no, purple isn’t your color.

Okay, can I just say here that Lady Soulsucker looks fucking weird? She looks like a haunted porcelain doll. Or a shitty oc. Here, a theme song to go with her.

Question, why is there a surf shop in the middle of Paris? Is Paris big for surfing? A true French sport?

Oh, yeah, Simone, I forgot her name. It’s very French. Also dude chill.

Diana will not be stopped by some weird hyper-jealous dude.

She also, ya know, looks like a fucking corpse. But yeah, the reflection thing is your first clue something’s up.

He doesn’t see her, he doesn’t hear her, he doesn’t smell the 500-yo morning breath. I claiming him as an anosmiac by the way, the flag is in.

Welp. I can’t decide whether this feeding was more or less extreme than the last one. I mean, this time was pretty fucking hardcore, but last time she demolished an entire fair ride.

Simone, sweetie, have you considered that if you are looking for a specific guy maybe, just maybe, the way to go about it isn’t to just eat whatever random dude happens to be within hypnotizing range? Just a thought?

“He needs help, I’m going in” Martin says right after watching a guy get eaten by a vampire, proving that while he may not be the moron we deserve, he’s the moron we need. Diana, on the other hand, is a voice of reason and doesn’t deserve this shit.

Lucky those clothes were there to break your fall, Martin.

Martin, after dropping from the ceiling into a vampire’s feeding ground, alone: Don’t make me fuck your shit up! Simone, seeing this: Oh yay it’s my moron! Speak of the devil!

Am I saying Gerard was probably just as much an impulsive dumbshit as his great-x-grandson? Yes. Yes I am.

“Clever, and brave.” And a complete moron of a dork. “Just like my Gerard.”

“And just as handsome” it’s nice to see the looks keep in that family? I don’t believe Gerard got the floaty hair though, but his hair looked stupid so really Martin has the advantage there.

Vampire minions are strong, holding back Java with one hand.

Vampire true love is apparently very sparky.

Well Diana, at least you saved the watch.

~~

Martin gets abducted by vampires, Billy immediately must run to the scene.

I’d be impressed with your strength, Java, if those doors hadn’t looked 70% fallen in before you got to them. You could’ve probably gotten the same result from a hearty cough on them.

Gerard=Martin w/o floaty hair or modern fashion. Don’t know why the portrait is in black in white.

You’d think Billy could’ve taken the thirty seconds to read a brief overview about the woman while he waited for Diana and Java, but no.

No wonder Gerard looks weird, there’s not even a splash of warm color in that outfit. And warm tones don’t do Simone any favors. Coordinate your fashion better, people, you’re vampires for fuck’s sake! What would Mike say!

How do we know about genes from a 15th century vampire? Also I note she says ‘relative’ and not ‘descendant’, but I’m not in the mood to dig into that.

Billy you are literally a galactic conqueror, but your big boy underwear on and get in the basement.

Let’s be real, Diana, that’s just a sibling thing. You go into horrible places to save them so you can give them hell about making you go to a horrible place to save them.

How many minions has Simone gotten together? Like, the clan hasn’t been renewed yet, so... When did she get the time? It’s been like 24 hours

Okay, that explains new guy A, what about B and C over there, who look like they stepped out of Robin Hood? where they sealed in with you? Is this the old crew?

Simone, queen of the night and motivational speeches.

Martin you can’t just call on a specific guy, poor thing probably had a heart attack. “Fuck, my Lady’s new consort has beef, fuckfuckfuck” but no, you just want some fucking fries. And Simone is fucking loving it.

~~

Okay, so we know some of them sleep upside down.

It’s nice to see vampires can still be active sleepers.

Hissy vampires on all fours

Vampire!Martin is perfectly fine with being an evil trophy husband

Vampire!Martin standing there like “yeah, you rule the underworld, babe, rocking it!”

~~

“Do you know how much grief I’ll get at Torrington if my stepbrother comes back a vampire?” Would it really be that much more than you get just for having him as a stepbrother in the first place?

A vampire lord consort and yet still, at heart, an annoying brother

Simone: Get me back my fucking moron and we’re all screwed!

Tell me that’s like, Diana or Java’s dirty sock because I’m fairly certain even Martin doesn’t deserve to have his own stuffed in his mouth

And Simone becomes a massive fucking bat beast. Fur, muzzle, little winglet-dealies, big ears, big teeth, no tail...

Okay, yeah, Java’s sock, cool

Those are some seriously dirty windows. Or, well, were.

Sunlight burns everybody but also burns Simone to fucking ash right quick. Which then removes the curse on her victims.

Also I wanna know more about this apparent vampire gene. It is of much interest, especially given next episode will be dealing with werewolves and in some folklore werewolves when killed become vampires, so...

~~

Martin. No.

Amber really. Either you were setting him up or you yourself are dense as teak.

Oh Martin... stick with spies and monsters, honey

[kilesplaysthings]

IkeSen Custom MC/OC Meme

(just so you know, i’m pulling this straight outta thin air lol it’s late and i’m brainstorming as i fill this out XD)

Hello there, time-traveler / feudal heroine / warlord! What’s your name?

Oh hey there! My name is Ana Hill (I’ve been told I need to work on my Japanese letters - and I probably should be writing this in Japanese too - but hey, what Ieyasu doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right?!)

Age? Height?

21! Uh, I guess about 5′3 or so?

What’s your fashion like? [Time travelers – pre & post-wormhole!]

Well, before I pulled a Marty McFly back into the Sengoku, my style was..um..nothing? I dunno, a simple t-shirt and jeans did the job for me. And Converse. Man..I miss my Converse.. Well, at my job I had to wear a nice pantsuit as well. Not too big on skirts, but I liked wearing dresses now and then. Heels were ok, but only for formal occasions. Now that I’m here in the good ol’ 1500s, I like to rock the kimono, if you know what I mean. Though I’ve been seriously considering swiping one of Mitsunari’s..or Ieyasu’s Hakama sometimes (they seem closer to my size, I think). Those look very comfortable!

Where are you from?

Glouchester, Massachusetts (USA) 

Feudal era – pros and/ or cons?

Ooh boy, here we go. Pros: It’s quieter here, plus the scenery is beautiful, like the different castles and shrines I’ve seen, not to mention all the nature!! Oh, and no pollution, either!! I get to be up close and personal with a lot of wildlife too, like horses! I’ve learned how to ride one too! Which is something I’ve always wanted to learn! Since I’ve been set up as a Princess I’ve been treated pretty well and everyone is very kind and helpful. And there’s a lot of lovely kimono I’ve been allowed to try on. Cons: Language barrier is worse in this time period. I could get by with speaking Japanese back in the modern day, but here, it’s different.. and I’m completely lost when it comes to reading their alphabet! I had no idea the letters changed over time! Also, they don’t call it the Sengoku era for nothing! It’s one thing to see it in the movies, it’s another thing to hear about and see the real thing. There are some things I don’t think I’ll ever un-see.. As for more lighthearted matters, I do miss wifi, not gonna lie.. and air conditioning... what I wouldn’t give for air conditioning again.....(and tampons but ANYWAYS)

If you’re not in your homeland/time, do you want to go home?

I do miss my grandparents, but also my time was also the time where I had to watch my mom die... so... a little bit of yes and a little bit of no...

What’s your home life like?

I lived with my grandparents, whose parents actually immigrated from Portugal. My dad was of some other nationality, like German or Dutch, I think. He skipped out on us when I was a kid. My mom died in my teens. You know, being able to actually speak a little Portuguese helps with the warlords? At least, with Nobunaga and Hideyoshi. Didn’t realize there were Portuguese merchants that visited Japan back then. The more you know, I guess!

You just got your dream job! What is it? / Or, what’s your line of work?

My line of work WAS being an English teacher in Kyoto. There was a cool exchange program in school that allowed us to go to Japan and I loved it. After that I learned that you could get a job that allowed you to teach English over there. I loved Japan, and I wanted to be a teacher. The rest is history. heh...

Any other hobbies or skills? Do you use them / how do you use them in the Sengoku period?

I’m a big movie buff. American film, French film, Japanese film, Korean film.. name it, I’ll watch it. It’s just a hobby of mine. Nothing very useful for the Sengoku period, though. Watching Kurosawa films does NOT make one a Sengoku scholar, I found. Though it is fun seeing all those warlords baffled at my lame 80s references.

Where is your base of operations? Azuchi Castle? Kasugayama Castle? A pirate ship? Running all over the woods or in a secret monastery? Some other cool place?

Azuchi. Nobunaga and Masamune were names I recognized. And Nobunaga can speak some Portuguese, so I went along with him. Good choice? Bad choice? We’ll see...

How do you feel about killing and violence?

It’s the Sengoku period. It’s just what goes on here. That doesn’t mean I like it, and that it doesn’t scare me half to death, but I just kinda...live with it? I couldn’t kill a person myself, though. Unless maybe in self-defense.

Have you learned to fight? If so, what’s your weapon and/or fighting style of choice?

Fighting kind of scares me. I did agree to learn how to shoot a bow. And Masamune gave me a dagger to protect myself.

What are you fighting for?

To survive? Being a Princess of Azuchi isn’t always safe, I’ve found. Especially when its Lord decides to drag me into battle even though he knows I don’t know a thing about fighting??!!

What are your feelings about authority?

Hey man, I don’t like dictators, but I come from a different time period. I can’t just assume that people are gonna understand or agree with the morals that I’m used to. If someone is pointing a sword or a pistol in my face, I’m not gonna act stupid and be disrespectful, you know? There’s a time and a place for things.

How do you handle someone invading your personal space?

If it’s someone I know and am close with, I don’t mind it at all! But if they’re a stranger, I get uncomfortable.

…do you invade people’s personal space?

I wouldn’t say so, unless, again, if you’re someone I am close with. 

Are you more open, or more reserved? Are you secretive?

I tend to be more on the open side. I can keep a secret, though, if need be (though it depends on if I think its something that should be kept secret).

Is this the first time you’ve been truly in love?

With a real person that I actually know? Yes...

What’s your style as a lover? (interpret this as innocently or not-innocently as you please ;) )

I can be a bit of a cuddler. Again, if I know you, I like to be close. Kissing is..yes. I like it.. I also like to play with hair and have mine played with. Honestly, just snuggling close to someone and talking about anything and everything is a perfect way to spend an afternoon for me. I’m not too complicated. I grew up in a small house where we shared everything. I’m used to simple things and am easy to please.

What are your favorite ways for someone to show you love?

Simple, everyday things please me. A nice comment, a random hug or kiss, a sweet gesture; just something that shows they were thinking of me... I grew up being taught that family is very important, so knowing that I am wanted and that I can be a part of someone else’s family would be a wonderful thing.

Do you use a petname or endearments for your lover(s)?

Hmmmm...maybe? When I was little, my grandfather once said my grandmother was fofo, which means cute or soft. Maybe I’d call him that...

How do you feel about…

Nobunaga? Weird. A mix of scary, funny, childish, and admirable all rolled up into that...admittedly attractive...mountain of a man. Good conversationalist too. It’s extremely entertaining telling him all of the stories from movies and books back at home.

Hideyoshi?  Scary at first, but super sweet once he got used to me. Very helpful and considerate. I’m slowly but surely winding him down and helping him chill out about Nobunaga sneaking out to get candy (because I want some of my own, darn it!!!)

Masamune? Also Scary. But man can he cook! Also he has a PET TIGER. One of these days, im stealing Shogetsu and keeping him for myself!

Ieyasu? Porcupine. Also a good teacher, but super strict! Gave me a real appreciation for herbal medicines.

Mitsunari? He’s SO CUTE? Literally, the cutest person I’ve ever seen?? Good study buddy, too. He’s helping me learn the language better and I’m teaching him English!

Mitsuhide? Scary. But cool. But scary. But funny. I can’t tell you how many times he’s made fun of the way I’ve stared at him since we’ve met.

Shingen? Hot. Too hot. Dangerous. gotta keep your eye on that one. May or may not have imagined him in a suit.

Kenshin? He’s got..two different colored eyes? Like a cat? Intimidating as all get-out. All he thinks about is war. Needs a hobby like stamp collecting. I want to touch his fluffy haori.

Yukimura? Reminds me of a guy I knew in school. Kind of a jock, but not the kind that has a way with the ladies. Lovable but awkward. That kind of guy. He’s funny when he’s with Sasuke though. Hilarious to tease too. He called me an enchantress one time and I tried to sing that one song from Hocus Pocus to him. Didn’t go well.

Sasuke?  Bestest pal ever. Would 100% time travel with him again. We have so many inside jokes we could write a book. (omg we should do that.. gotta remind myself to tell him that next time I see him!!) It’s a shame he lives so far away.

Kennyo? A warrior monk who wants to kill but also loves animals? Doesn’t compute. If only I could get him to a therapist...

Motonari?  I’m gonna teach him the “Pirates Life for Me” song one of these days...that is, if he doesn’t try to kill me or kidnap me or something first...

Any other friends/notables?

I did have some friends when I was teaching English, yes. I also got along with my students pretty well too. Mostly, it’s my grandparents I worry about while I’m stuck here...

Freestyle! Tell us anything else you’d like to share!

I have a massive sweet tooth like big man Nobunaga here. Hideyoshi has accused me of encouraging his addiction.. it’s true, sadly. Portuguese merchants are my best friends and I’ve haggled them enough that I get some of their delicacies for lower prices. I’m becoming Nobunaga’s best friend because of this, I think. My name might as well be Lucky Charm. Shingen may or may not have recruited me to his sweet dumpling team though. Those are super good...

*goes to think about all the sweets she misses*

Thanks for introducing yourself! ♡

(you rock, @nyktoon-ikemenlove !)

[lobsters-on-their-heads]

OB Rewatch: Let the Children and the Childbearers Toil

Birds of a feather...

I loved

I love Charlotte exploring the woods with her friend. She's grown so much now that she's out of weird homeschooling situations. And considering that this healthy new environment is Revival, that is saying something.

The Siobhan / Sarah dynamic in this episode. The transition from actual conversation about actual issues into Sarah guiding Siobhan to Elizabeth Perkins and taking the lead in stealing her wallet was seamless.

“Your daughter is struggling on the threshold of what it means to become you.” So true, however contrived and unintentional. 

Sarah’s affectionate “Oi, meathead.”

That Helena, the most damaged of our sestras, is the one to suggest helping Kira by sharing “our horrors” with her. 

Siobhan’s Dr. Perkins impression. Ho-ly Shit! “Major... major depressive disorder.”

I liked

In today's installment of Cosima has a great bedside manner, Charlotte gets a breath test.

Felix confirms that Kira’s taking French, with a Madame LaRue. 

Kira sitting for a Felix portrait, and posing so dramatically. And, not coincidentally, the sitting quietly with no pressure is what gets Kira to open up and talk. 

Sarah’s role playing “Dr. Perkins’s” assistant is a fun call back to her impersonation of Beth in Season 1.

I didn’t like

Oh great, Susan and Coady are both back. Why? Who the hell knows. Maybe the writers or show-runners decided they were more interesting than Alison or MK, so as they removed those characters, they brought in Susan and Coady, two of my least favorites. Or maybe Tatiana wanted less time on screen, so they needed to fill space with someone else. 

Once Kira does start talking, Felix shuts her down pretty quickly, instead of just asking questions or getting her to talk more.

The whole Mud / genetically damaged guy in the woods story line. It was built up and the pay off just fell flat. The guy is a violent, more “normal looking” version of Sloth from Goonies. Plus, the acting or directing of the “local guys confronting Mud” was limp as old lettuce.

Other notes

At least Susan’s still delusional. “You turned my daughter against me.”

I hope the Revivalists get religious dietary exemptions as much as possible. I hope Aisha and her mother aren’t stuck eating pork or nothing. Also, I hope they actually had pigs on set. Speaking of, the names of those pigs – Chomper and Crazy Legs. 

Interestingly, when the girls didn't see Daisy, they did not immediately think, “I guess she's someone's dinner tonight.” I mean, Charlotte eventually saw the unlatched door, but not right away. Lucky the other two pigs aren't as curious as poor Daisy.

Susan calls PT “Percival” in her hospital bed, presumably while she’s on pain meds, but she calls him PT at the end. Maybe the writers hadn’t decided what to do with his naming situation yet. 

We get more or less confirmation that PT fucked Susan. “My beautiful, filthy mind” indeed. He probably isn't even that creative in the sack, either.

I hope Siobhan's little therapy session with Dr. Perkins was actually helpful somehow.

As far as I’m concerned, Coady should have stayed in that hospital forever. Maybe they could have removed the top of her skull and tied her down, too.

I was going to say that once all this blows over Mud could have a job as an infusion nurse, but it’d be kinda awkward explaining where she got the experience.

I have questions

What did happen to Daisy after the girls found her in the woods, anyway? I mean, I know where she ended up eventually... 

How did that tooth land just so, just like that? They don’t normally just fall out of people’s mouths fully intact.

WHY oh why oh WHY did anyone think Felix should be tracking global profit flows in Switzerland? Why did they have to BE in Switzerland for that? Isn’t the point that they are global, meaning even if they’re registered there, they might not actually BE there? It seriously just reeks of needing some excuse to get Jordan Gavaris off screen for several more episodes, immediately after they took two other beloved characters off screen, and Delphine’s presence is spotty at best. Again, there are reasons the fifth season is my least favorite.

Is PT’s infusion room the same room as next episode’s dinner scene? The little cabinet in the hallway looks the same.

Why were the pictures of the gaping wounds and stitching just left on that flickering light board in PT’s basement? Like, I know they’re studying healing, but why leave them on?

I would’ve liked to have seen

How Crazy Legs the pig got its name.

Much more of Charlotte and Aisha hanging out. I hope they tell each other silly jokes and play with the animals.

Kira speaking French with Delphine.

[savvylark]

Not Your Mama’s Hallmark Christmas Part 3

You can find Part 1 here and Part 2 here or read it all on Ao3 here

Katniss tends to be cynical about materialism, love, and marriage. Her friends have replaced the family she lost. So when Peeta needs help, her friends don’t need more than a strong arm to convince her. Katniss finds herself having a very different  Christmas this year with the Mellark family, posing as Peeta’s girlfriend. What will change when this starts to look like a strange Hallmark movie?

Thank you to the amazing @javistg being my beta and encouraging. Thank you @peetabreadgirl for giving me some of the ideas for these cute scenes that bring K & P closer. @everlarkingjoshifer made this banner for me. Isn’t it lovely?

Madge is unbelievable. The girl has connections and she knows how to get things done. Almost everyday after my work at the lab, I’m busy with something to prepare for the trip.

Madge and I are getting our nails done at a salon she frequents. I never do this kind of thing. I kept my nails shorter, square, and a dark red color, seasonal, but edgy enough to be myself. I’m pretending to be a wealthier version on myself I reason.

Madge is getting her baby pink French Tip frost with iridescence and sparkles. She couldn’t be happier that I begrudgingly accompanied her. I try to enjoy her company while she continues with her mission to prepare me. 

“I peppered in compliments about you while I was on the phone with Aunt Loretta, but you know how she is,” Madge admits with a grimace.

I roll my eyes. I do know how she is.

Mrs. Mellark was full of backhanded compliments and condescension when she met Gale. My best friend is a tall, dark, and handsome engineer with intense gray eyes, that could win over any woman.

Madge’s Aunt being the exception.

“When I mentioned that I met Gale through you, it all went downhill.” She rolls her eyes. I’m not surprised.

“Maybe I should have started with how much you make in the lab working for pharmaceutical companies.” Madge winks.

I huff.

I don’t how to handle someone so superficial.

Money was hard to come by growing up. The only reason I had the opportunity to attend college was the archery scholarship I received.

It was extremely lucky that my favorite professor, Dr. Beetee. Took an interest in me and explained that with my major, Biochemistry in Pharmaceutical Sciences, I was eligible for the program that enables undergraduate students to begin taking graduate courses in their senior year.

I received a Master of Science degree within a year of finishing my undergraduate degree.

Dr. Beetee helped me find a job with his connections, I was hired right out of college. With his encouragement, I’ve been taking a few night classes in pursuit of my doctorate.

My paygrade allows me to afford a good chunk of my sister’s college bills as she studies to become a pediatrician, while I continue to live with a roommate and a tight budget.

I guess Mrs. Mellark would like to know what I make and not where it goes.

Madge wrote out an itinerary based on what she knows after talking to her aunt, with what outfit to wear, the right shoes, makeup for each outfit, diagrams, and tips for what might happen.

The shopping she’s done for me is a welcome relief. She knows me so well. What I like, what I look good in, what fits, and most importantly, how much I hate shopping.

Peeta and I are heading out of town in his black SUV –I always refer to it as his secret service vehicle. Snow is lightly dusting our scenery on the open road.

It’s a 3 hour drive to Merchant, Peeta’s ritzy gated community hometown. Politicians, socialites, anyone with money, even a famous eccentric musician are all known to live in that area.

A 30 minute drive from there is the suburban town Madge, Gale, and I grew up in. Gale and I grew up on the poorer side of town. Madge growing up as the mayor’s daughter (and now senator elect) obviously being the nicest part of our area.

The first hour of our drive is filled with our usual banter and laughter. I’m genuinely relieved that this weird week will be with Peeta, he’s a blast.

We take turns playing new music we’ve found, and fall into our usual discussions, sharing thoughts on certain lyrics or a particular soul-stirring melody.

Peeta gets a thoughtful look on his face before he speaks. “Okay, this may seem weird to discuss, but I’m going to surprise you in the moment, when no one is looking. I don’t think our first kiss should be in front of everyone. It’s going to look forced and awkward.”

I quirk an eyebrow at him. “OUR. First. Kiss?” I lock eyes with him, but keep a teasing look on my face.

He raises his eyebrows realizing what he just said, remembering, his cheeks turn rosy.

“You were my first kiss,” I whisper, just barely loud enough for him to hear. Cherishing the memory.

I bite my lip in thought. Quick dart my eyes to Peeta as I catch him licking his lips, then snap my gaze back on the road.

“Really?” He seems surprised, but I can hear a smile and, is that pride, in his tone?

“Mhmm.” I feel 16 again and I’m floating, my skin tingles. I know I’m blushing so I just stare down at my boots.

After a few moments of thoughtful silence, I blurt out. “Our kisses couldn’t ever be forced or awkward, Peeta.” I leave that for him to chew in as I crank up some “Hipster Holidays Radio” on Pandora.

After all the stories Madge and Peeta have told me of the infamous Mrs. Loretta Mellark, I wasn’t expecting someone so beautiful, and well, perfect. Everything about her was “just so,” which, maybe I should have guessed, knowing how “just so” Madge is.

She’s dressed in classically styled name brand clothes, makeup that complements her icy blue eyes and lighter skin tone, elegantly styled updo, highlighted blond hair, nothing is out of place or inexpensive.

Loretta is the most beautiful middle aged woman I’ve ever seen. Her pores seep elegance.

An air of pretension and anxiety follows her everywhere.

Honestly, this explains some things.

“Mom, this is my girlfriend, Katniss. I told you she was coming. She grew up with Madge, remember?” Peeta introduces me, rushed and nervous.

With a weak smile, I offer my hand in greeting. Trying to relax my own nerves.

“It’s very nice to meet you, thank you for having me,” I tell Peeta’s mother.

Loretta purses her lips and looks me over, eyes narrow, ignoring my extended hand.

I stuff my hands into the pockets of my worn jeans, which I realize she’s judging right now.

“What an interesting name. Very Haight-Ashbury.”

I look at Peeta and we’re both trying to hide our amusement.

“Thanks?” I reply trying to keep a neutral expression.

“If my dear niece is fond of you, I’m sure you’ll find your place here. Peeta, can you show her to one of the upper guest rooms? We won’t have any cohabitation in my house, especially among so many family members, you understand?”

Peeta nods.

I try to hide my sigh of relief.

That is until I find that I’m being put in a room so far from the rest of the family.

Message received. My place here is not with the rest of the family. I can tell by Peeta’s grimace he’s also caught onto his mother’s condescending implication.  

“It’s okay, Peeta, I do like having a place to escape, so I don’t know if I really mind at all.”

“Yeah, but it’s just rude. You’re my girlfriend.” He clears his throat. “I mean, she shouldn’t treat you that way, and it’s disrespectful to both of us,” he says with frustration.

I put my hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay, Peeta, let’s just get through this as smoothly as possible. We don’t play her games. We have our own antics,” I say with a smile and a wink.

He rolls his eyes and I know he’s thinking of the reference “antics.”

One year, Peeta stress baked enough Christmas cookies to open his own bakery. When I came over to his apartment to set up for movie night, we came up with the idea of having a cookie eating contest.

We got right to frosting in preparation for our Christmas party.

Later on, Jo and Finnick walked in to find 12 dozen frosted cookies and Peeta chasing me with a spatula, laughing with frosting all over his face, mine being equally frosted.

Johanna and Finnick went into a long list of our games we come up with, the chasing and teasing, referencing them as “antics.” It became a recurring joke Jo and Finnick go back to in reference to the competitions we come up with, or playful things we do together.

“Always with the antics” became a recurring joke.

“Ugh, now I really want some cookies!” I groan.

Peeta lights up at the reference, and chuckles to himself. “I know where to find some!” He takes my hand and leads me out of the secluded guest room.

I don’t really know what kind of awkwardness would have come from sharing a room with Peeta, so I put it out of my mind.

“Did your mom call my parents hippies?” I remind him.

Our eyes meet and we laugh.

“Pretty much.”

Peeta leads me to the kitchen. “You are kind of a flower child, yourself.” He pokes at my side.

I squirm and scowl at him.

As we eat frosted Christmas sugar cookies from Mellark’s bakery, Peeta brings up ways we should look and act like a couple. “We have to believable, right?”

“Yeah?” I roll my eyes.

“Let’s go over ‘couply things’ we should do,” Peeta suggests, always the project manager.

“Like hand-holding?” I deadpan, because this seems kind of silly. We’re adults. We’ve been in plenty of relationships. I do see his point, it is hard to think of Peeta as more than a friend.

Well, was, until Joanna opened that can of worms.

He reaches for my hand and nods.

I slowly grasp his large palm and interlace our fingers, ignoring the tingle that spreads with our touch.

“Or I’ll put my arm around you.” Peeta demonstrates and I try to relax in his embrace. My nerves are a little on edge.

“Loving gestures.” His arm travels down and he rubs my back affectionately.

Then he pulls on the end of my braid to turn me toward him.

Peeta stares into my eyes and smooths a strand of my hair behind my ear carefully.

I crinkle my nose.

He laughs.

Peeta kisses my nose.

I gasp, startled.

Then we both laugh.

He pulls me into a hug as we laugh, for no reason in particular. His face snuggles down in the crook of my neck.

I feel so…

We hear footsteps behind us and in walks William Mellark, beaming at the couple he’s found in the kitchen.

I push away with one hand on Peeta’s chest and look up at him for what to do.

His arms remains wrapped around me.

I’m momentarily distracted by the feel of his muscular solid chest under my fingertips.

Peeta’s attention is on the family patriarch. “Hey Dad! This is Katniss, my girlfriend,” he introduces me.

I try not to notice the huskiness Peeta’s voice took on when the said girlfriend, or the proud smile he gave.

It almost hurts to have to lie to his dad like that. I swallow my feelings.

As Peeta releases me from his embrace, I step forward.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Mellark!” I say, hoping to school my nerves.

With familiar Mellark deep blue eyes, I’m greeted with a smile. Peeta’s dad has prominent laugh lines and the wrinkles around his eyes seem to be from happiness. His blonde hair is cut short with gray sprinkled around his temples, but I’m sure it was exactly like Peeta’s in his youth.

He’s very handsome.

I know where Peeta gets his looks.

“It’s Will to you, please? Make yourself at home here, Katniss!”

I greet him with a handshake. “Thank you, Will!”

The first night, the Mellarks have planned a couples’ ice skating event in town. We meet up with Peeta’s brothers and their wives.

Dane Mellark is a lawyer and it shows with the way he carries himself, seems cold and serious.

His wife, Clara, is also blond; beautiful, perfectly manicured, and dressed like Princess Kate. I’m sure she’s everything his mother wanted in a daughter-in-law.

We make polite conversation, what I do, how we met, how Dane and Clara met. Clara’s favorite topic being their children.

I can’t shake the feeling that I don’t really belong.

Rye Mellark and his wife arrive a little later. The Middle Mellark son greets me with a warm hug and whispers, “try not to melt the ice there” with a wink.

Is he flirting with me?

Then, he pulls Peeta in a headlock and, mutters something that makes Peeta blush.

I don’t have time to wonder what kind of woman married him when a dark red haired bombshell smacks Rye’s arm. “Knock it off Ryen!”

Rye releases Peeta with a huff.

“I’m Lila, it’s nice to meet you, Katniss.” Lila pulls me into a side hug, she smells like an expensive perfume.

She’s clearly used to this kind of lifestyle, but from talking to her she’s approachable, and genuine.

The first time I make Rye and Lila laugh Peeta and I lock eyes. The look of pride and something else I’m not familiar with flashes in his eyes. I’m much more comfortable around them after that.

It’s a relief.

Rye makes a big show of his backwards skating abilities. He’s dressed in a black Red Wings starter jacket and hockey skates.

Lila makes a few jokes at her husband’s expense.

“Why the Red Wings didn’t want him…”

And something about How he dressed in,costume. She’s funny, and clearly Rye thinks so too.

He laughs along and his eyes twinkle with love for his wife.

There’s that feeling again.

What is it with me lately? I’m noticing that ‘love’ look everywhere.

I blame Gale.

The outdoor rink is beautiful, with lights, greenery and holly. It even smells of evergreen.

In the center, is a decorated 30 foot tree looking magical, the music playing makes my ears buzz with nostalgia.

I tighten my hand in Peeta’s unconsciously and feel the buzz travel from my ears to my whole body as I listen.

Taking in the scene as we make our first loop around on the glassy ice rink, I can’t help but sigh in contentment.

“I feel like a kid again!” I smile up at Peeta.

He squeezes my hand and smiles back in reply.

I briefly think of Madge saying “you have a calming effect on Peeta.” I wonder if he has the same effect on me, and if this feeling, similar to holiday cheer, has something to do with the man next to me.

As if he’s reading my thoughts, Peeta draws me into his arms. I’m met with his deep blue eyes and the reflection of lights dancing around us before Peeta plants a chaste kiss on my lips.

My heart is beating faster, and I can’t keep the stupid grin off my face.

The tingling sensation on my lips lingers.

I force myself to focus on one thought,

“This is fun. We’re having fun. Don’t over think.”

I glance behind Peeta and realize his brothers and parents were watching us.

Smiles and whispers are shared among them.

Oh right, this is for appearances.

I grin back at Peeta, as if to say “It’s working.”

A confusing tightness lingers in my gut.

I refuse to let my thoughts wander and analyze. Or think about my body’s reaction to the kiss.

The first thing Peeta says to me once we arrive back at his parents’ house is “Hey, you know what we need? Hot Cocoa!”

We walk with his arms wrapped around me, as if we are really a couple.

It really felt like a first date and it was, well, wonderful.

Peeta hands me a fresh cup of cocoa and I take my seat at the breakfast nook while he prepares his own cup.

On the wall are cute pictures of the Mellark  boys in various stages of life.

It’s funny to see Peeta as a chubby little grade-schooler, same friendly smirk, same bright blue eyes.

I try to think if I remember him like that at Madge’s birthday parties. I just wasn’t paying enough attention then. Maybe I do remember that sweet face, playing tag in Madge’s back yard.

I turn and collide with Peeta’s very full cup of steaming Hot Cocoa. It pours all down his shirt.

Peeta hisses. He sets his cup down, and whips his shirt off to rid himself of the scalding liquid.

I quickly reach for a napkin and attempt to dry his lap.

He has light red marks from the cocoa, but I can’t ignore his chiseled and muscular chest.

Wow. Just. Wow.

My movements still as we make eye contact.

My chest feels heavy, the air feels thick.

My whole body is very aware of this growing attraction.

Or recurring attraction?

This is HOT.

“What?” Peeta says, amusement on his face.

I must have said that out loud.

I try to shake away the magnetism he has.

Then I realize my hand is still in his lap, lingering precariously. Was I just rubbing his… lap?

I pull back, taking a sip of my cocoa to hide my reaction. “The cocoa is hot,” I blurt out in an attempt to recover. Looking anywhere but at Peeta.

We quietly finish our hot chocolate.

“Well, I think I’m ready to head to my room. I had a lot fun, Peeta, thank you,” I say.

Peeta catches my hand and pulls me in a warm hug.

My hands go around his back.

His bare muscular back.

He’s still shirtless.

I resist the urge to moan.

My whole body heats up again.

“Thank you for doing this, Katniss,” Peeta whispers.

I feel his warm breath and the brush of his lips on my neck.

I pull away and nod, mumbling some sort of affirmation.

I head up to my room before I do something stupid like shove him into the wall and kiss him senseless without the pretense of appearances.

That night, I dream of a shirtless Peeta, moaning and grunting as I stroke…

[winterinpanem]

Not Your Mama's Hallmark Christmas part 2/3

A big Thank YOU to my friend and beta @javistg 

Madge is unbelievable. The girl has connections and she knows how to get things done. Almost everyday after my work at the lab, I'm busy with something to prepare for the trip.

  Madge and I are getting our nails done at a salon she frequents. I never do this kind of thing. I kept my nails shorter, square, and a dark red color, seasonal, but edgy enough to be myself. I’m pretending to be a wealthier version on myself I reason with myself.

Madge is getting her baby pink French Tip frost with iridescence and sparkles. She couldn’t be happier that I begrudgingly accompanied her. I try to enjoy her company while she continues on her mission to prepare me.

“I peppered in compliments about you when I was on the phone with Aunt Loretta, but you know how she is,” Madge admits with a grimace.

  I roll my eyes. I do know how she is.

  Mrs. Mellark was full of backhanded compliments and condescension when she met Gale. My best friend is a tall, dark, and handsome engineer with intense gray eyes, that could win over any woman.

  Madge's Aunt being the exception.

  “When I mentioned that I met Gale through you, it all went downhill.” She rolls her eyes. I'm not surprised.

  “Maybe I should have started with how much you make in the lab working for pharmaceutical companies.” Madge winks.

  I huff.

  I don't how to handle someone so superficial.

  Money was hard to come by growing up. The only reason I had the opportunity to attend college was the archery scholarship I received.

  It was extremely lucky that my favorite professor, Dr. Beetee. Took an interest in me and explained that with my major, Biochemistry in Pharmaceutical Sciences, I was eligible for the program that enables undergraduate students to begin taking graduate courses in their senior year.

  I received a Master of Science degree within a year of finishing my undergraduate degree.

  Dr. Beetee helped me find a job with his connections, I was hired right out of college. With his encouragement, I've been taking a few night classes in pursuit of my doctorate.

  My paygrade allows me to afford a good chunk of my sister's college bills as she studies to become a pediatrician, while I continue to live with a roommate and a tight budget.

  I guess Mrs. Mellark would like to know what I make and not where it goes.

  Madge wrote out an itinerary based on what she knows after talking to her aunt, with what outfit to wear, the right shoes, makeup for each outfit, diagrams, and tips for what might happen.

  The shopping she's done for me is a welcome relief. She knows me so well. What I like, what I look good in, what fits, and most importantly, how much I hate shopping.

  Peeta and I are heading out of town in his black SUV --I always refer to it as his secret service vehicle. Snow is lightly dusting our scenery on the open road.

  It's a 3 hour drive to Merchant, Peeta’s ritzy gated community hometown. Politicians, socialites, anyone with money, even a famous eccentric musician are all known to live in that area.

  A 30 minute drive from there is the suburban town Madge, Gale, and I grew up in. Gale and I grew up on the poorer side of town. Madge growing up as the mayor's daughter (and now senator elect) obviously being the nicest part of our area.

  The first hour of our drive is filled with our usual banter and laughter. I'm genuinely relieved that this weird week will be with Peeta, he's a blast.

  We take turns playing new music we've found, and fall into our usual discussions, sharing thoughts on certain lyrics or a particular soul-stirring melody.

  Peeta gets a thoughtful look on his face before he speaks. “Okay, this may seem weird to discuss, but I’m going to surprise you in the moment, when no one is looking. I don’t think our first kiss should be in front of everyone. It's going to look forced and awkward.”

  I quirk an eyebrow at him. “OUR. First. Kiss?” I lock eyes with him, but keep a teasing look on my face.

  He raises his eyebrows realizing what he just said, remembering, his cheeks turn rosy.

  “You were my first kiss,” I whisper, just barely loud enough for him to hear. Cherishing the memory.

  I bite my lip in thought. Quick dart my eyes to Peeta as I catch him licking his lips, then snap my gaze back on the road.

  “Really?” He seems surprised, but I can hear a smile and, is that pride, in his tone?

  “Mhmm.” I feel 16 again and I'm floating, my skin tingles. I know I'm blushing so I just stare down at my boots.

  After a few moments of thoughtful silence, I blurt out. “Our kisses couldn't ever be forced or awkward, Peeta.” I leave that for him to chew in as I crank up some “Hipster Holidays Radio” on Pandora.

  After all the stories Madge and Peeta have told me of the infamous Mrs. Loretta Mellark, I wasn’t expecting someone so beautiful, and well, perfect. Everything about her was “just so,” which, maybe I should have guessed, knowing how “just so” Madge is.

  She's dressed in classically styled name brand clothes, makeup that complements her icy blue eyes and lighter skin tone, elegantly styled updo, highlighted blond hair, nothing is out of place or inexpensive.

  Loretta is the most beautiful middle aged woman I've ever seen. Her pores seep elegance.

An air of pretension and anxiety follows her everywhere.

  Honestly, this explains some things.

  “Mom, this is my girlfriend, Katniss. I told you she was coming. She grew up with Madge, remember?” Peeta introduces me, rushed and nervous.

  With a weak smile, I offer my hand in greeting. Trying to relax my own nerves.

  “It’s very nice to meet you, thank you for having me,” I tell Peeta's mother.

  Loretta purses her lips and looks me over, eyes narrow, ignoring my extended hand.

  I stuff my hands into the pockets of my worn jeans, which I realize she's judging right now.

  “What an interesting name. Very Haight-Ashbury.”

  I look at Peeta and we're both trying to hide our amusement.

  “Thanks?” I reply trying to keep a neutral expression.

  “If my dear niece is fond of you, I’m sure you’ll find your place here. Peeta, can you show her to one of the upper guest rooms? We won’t have any cohabitation in my house, especially among so many family members, you understand?”

  Peeta nods.

  I try to hide my sigh of relief.

  That is until I find that I’m being put in a room so far from the rest of the family.

  Message received. My place here is not with the rest of the family. I can tell by Peeta's grimace he's also caught onto his mother's condescending implication.  

  “It's okay, Peeta, I do like having a place to escape, so I don't know if I really mind at all.”

  “Yeah, but it's just rude. You're my girlfriend.” He clears his throat. “I mean, she shouldn't treat you that way, and it's disrespectful to both of us,” he says with frustration.

  I put my hand on his shoulder. “It's okay, Peeta, let's just get through this as smoothly as possible. We don't play her games. We have our own antics,” I say with a smile and a wink.

  He rolls his eyes and I know he's thinking of the reference “antics.”

  One year, Peeta stress baked enough Christmas cookies to open his own bakery. When I came over to his apartment to set up for movie night, we came up with the idea of having a cookie eating contest.

  We got right to frosting in preparation for our Christmas party.

  Later on, Jo and Finnick walked in to find 12 dozen frosted cookies and Peeta chasing me with a spatula, laughing with frosting all over his face, mine being equally frosted.

  Johanna and Finnick went into a long list of our games we come up with, the chasing and teasing, referencing them as “antics.” It became a recurring joke Jo and Finnick go back to in reference to the competitions we come up with, or playful things we do together.

  “Always with the antics” became a recurring joke.

  “Ugh, now I really want some cookies!” I groan.

  Peeta lights up at the reference, and chuckles to himself. “I know where to find some!” He takes my hand and leads me out of the secluded guest room.

  I don’t really know what kind of awkwardness would have come from sharing a room with Peeta, so I put it out of my mind.

  “Did your mom call my parents hippies?” I remind him.

  Our eyes meet and we laugh.

  “Pretty much.”

  Peeta leads me to the kitchen. “You are kind of a flower child, yourself.” He pokes at my side.

  I squirm and scowl at him.

  As we eat frosted Christmas sugar cookies from Mellark’s bakery, Peeta brings up ways we should look and act like a couple. “We have to believable, right?”

  “Yeah?” I roll my eyes.

  “Let's go over ‘couply things’ we should do,” Peeta suggests, always the project manager.

  “Like hand-holding?” I deadpan, because this seems kind of silly. We're adults. We've been in plenty of relationships. I do see his point, it is hard to think of Peeta as more than a friend.

  Well, was, until Joanna opened that can of worms.

  He reaches for my hand and nods.

  I slowly grasp his large palm and interlace our fingers, ignoring the tingle that spreads with our touch.

  “Or I'll put my arm around you.” Peeta demonstrates and I try to relax in his embrace. My nerves are a little on edge.

  “Loving gestures.” His arm travels down and he rubs my back affectionately.

  Then he pulls on the end of my braid to turn me toward him.

  Peeta stares into my eyes and smooths a strand of my hair behind my ear carefully.

  I crinkle my nose.

  He laughs.

  Peeta kisses my nose.

  I gasp, startled.

  Then we both laugh.

  He pulls me into a hug as we laugh, for no reason in particular. His face snuggles down in the crook of my neck.

  I feel so...

  We hear footsteps behind us and in walks William Mellark, beaming at the couple he’s found in the kitchen.

  I push away with one hand on Peeta's chest and look up at him for what to do.

His arms remains wrapped around me.

  I'm momentarily distracted by the feel of his muscular solid chest under my fingertips.

  Peeta's attention is on the family patriarch. “Hey Dad! This is Katniss, my girlfriend,” he introduces me.

  I try not to notice the huskiness Peeta's voice took on when the said girlfriend, or the proud smile he gave.

  It almost hurts to have to lie to his dad like that. I swallow my feelings.

  As Peeta releases me from his embrace, I step forward.

  “Nice to meet you, Mr. Mellark!” I say, hoping to school my nerves.

  With familiar Mellark deep blue eyes, I'm greeted with a smile. Peeta’s dad has prominent laugh lines and the wrinkles around his eyes seem to be from happiness. His blonde hair is cut short with gray sprinkled around his temples, but I'm sure it was exactly like Peeta's in his youth.

  He's very handsome.

  I know where Peeta gets his looks.

  “It's Will to you, please? Make yourself at home here, Katniss!”

  I greet him with a handshake. “Thank you, Will!”

  The first night, the Mellarks have planned a couples’ ice skating event in town. We meet up with Peeta's brothers and their wives.

  Dane Mellark is a lawyer and it shows with the way he carries himself, seems cold and serious.

  His wife, Clara, is also blond; beautiful, perfectly manicured, and dressed like Princess Kate. I'm sure she's everything his mother wanted in a daughter-in-law.

  We make polite conversation, what I do, how we met, how Dane and Clara met. Clara’s favorite topic being their children.

  I can't shake the feeling that I don't really belong.

  Rye Mellark and his wife arrive a little later. The Middle Mellark son greets me with a warm hug and whispers, “try not to melt the ice there” with a wink.

  Is he flirting with me?

  Then, he pulls Peeta in a headlock and, mutters something that makes Peeta blush.

  I don't have time to wonder what kind of woman married him when a dark red haired bombshell smacks Rye’s arm. “Knock it off Ryen!”

  Rye releases Peeta with a huff.

  “I'm Lila, it's nice to meet you, Katniss.” Lila pulls me into a side hug, she smells like an expensive perfume.

She's clearly used to this kind of lifestyle, but from talking to her she's approachable, and genuine.

  The first time I make Rye and Lila laugh Peeta and I lock eyes. The look of pride and something else I'm not familiar with flashes in his eyes. I'm much more comfortable around them after that.

  It's a relief.

  Rye makes a big show of his backwards skating abilities. He's dressed in a black Red Wings starter jacket and hockey skates.

  Lila makes a few jokes at her husband's expense.

“Why the Red Wings didn't want him…”

  And something about How he dressed in,costume. She's funny, and clearly Rye thinks so too.

He laughs along and his eyes twinkle with love for his wife.

  There's that feeling again.

  What is it with me lately? I'm noticing that ‘love' look everywhere.

  I blame Gale.

  The outdoor rink is beautiful, with lights, greenery and holly. It even smells of evergreen.

In the center, is a decorated 30 foot tree looking magical, the music playing makes my ears buzz with nostalgia.

  I tighten my hand in Peeta's unconsciously and feel the buzz travel from my ears to my whole body as I listen.

  Taking in the scene as we make our first loop around on the glassy ice rink, I can't help but sigh in contentment.

  “I feel like a kid again!” I smile up at Peeta.

  He squeezes my hand and smiles back in reply.

  I briefly think of Madge saying “you have a calming effect on Peeta.” I wonder if he has the same effect on me, and if this feeling, similar to holiday cheer, has something to do with the man next to me.

  As if he's reading my thoughts, Peeta draws me into his arms. I'm met with his deep blue eyes and the reflection of lights dancing around us before Peeta plants a chaste kiss on my lips.

  My heart is beating faster, and I can't keep the stupid grin off my face.

The tingling sensation on my lips lingers.

  I force myself to focus on one thought,

“This is fun. We're having fun. Don't over think.”

I glance behind Peeta and realize his brothers and parents were watching us.

Smiles and whispers are shared among them.

  Oh right, this is for appearances.

  I grin back at Peeta, as if to say “It's working.”

  A confusing tightness lingers in my gut.

  I refuse to let my thoughts wander and analyze. Or think about my body’s reaction to the kiss.

  The first thing Peeta says to me once we arrive back at his parents’ house is “Hey, you know what we need? Hot Cocoa!”

  We walk with his arms wrapped around me, as if we are really a couple.

  It really felt like a first date and it was, well, wonderful.

  Peeta hands me a fresh cup of cocoa and I take my seat at the breakfast nook while he prepares his own cup.

  On the wall are cute pictures of the Mellark  boys in various stages of life.

  It's funny to see Peeta as a chubby little grade-schooler, same friendly smirk, same bright blue eyes.

  I try to think if I remember him like that at Madge's birthday parties. I just wasn't paying enough attention then. Maybe I do remember that sweet face, playing tag in Madge's back yard.

  I turn and collide with Peeta’s very full cup of steaming Hot Cocoa. It pours all down his shirt.

  Peeta hisses. He sets his cup down, and whips his shirt off to rid himself of the scalding liquid.

  I quickly reach for a napkin and attempt to dry his lap.

  He has light red marks from the cocoa, but I can't ignore his chiseled and muscular chest.

  Wow. Just. Wow.

  My movements still as we make eye contact.

  My chest feels heavy, the air feels thick.

  My whole body is very aware of this growing attraction.

  Or recurring attraction?

  This is HOT.

  “What?” Peeta says, amusement on his face.

  I must have said that out loud.

  I try to shake away the magnetism he has.

Then I realize my hand is still in his lap, lingering precariously. Was I just rubbing his... lap?

  I pull back, taking a sip of my cocoa to hide my reaction. “The cocoa is hot,” I blurt out in an attempt to recover. Looking anywhere but at Peeta.

  We quietly finish our hot chocolate.

  “Well, I think I’m ready to head to my room. I had a lot fun, Peeta, thank you,” I say.

  Peeta catches my hand and pulls me in a warm hug.

  My hands go around his back.

  His bare muscular back.

  He’s still shirtless.

  I resist the urge to moan.

  My whole body heats up again.

  “Thank you for doing this, Katniss,” Peeta whispers.

  I feel his warm breath and the brush of his lips on my neck.

  I pull away and nod, mumbling some sort of affirmation.

  I head up to my room before I do something stupid like shove him into the wall and kiss him senseless without the pretence of appearances.

  That night, I dream of a shirtless Peeta, moaning and grunting as I stroke…

  At breakfast, I’m sitting next to Peeta, sipping my coffee while he holds my hand.

  Peeta makes a joke about buttering my pancake.

  I spit a little bit of my coffee out.

  Peeta bursts into laughter.

  “The last time that happened Madge convinced us to swap shirts!” Peeta explains his laughter.

  I laugh with him as we reminisce about our humorous first encounter at Panem State in Gale’s apartment my freshman year.

  Thresh and I became fast friends with a similar family background and interest in mischief, we pranked our entire dorm hall with an airhorn, and shaving cream balloons that popped above everyone’s doors as they opened them.

  Peeta actually started joining our pizza nights at Gale’s apartment through his friendship with Thresh.

  My phone buzzes after class Friday, as I head out of my Freshman Biology class. I check my messages. It's our usual group message from Gale and Thresh conferring our weekend plans.

  Gale: Let’s make ‘Pizza Night’ a party this week?

  Me: Okay. I’ll tell Madge and Johanna. I'm sure they'll get the word out too.

  Thresh: If Kat’s ready to party I'm so in. I’ll invite some of the wrestling team. C-ya.

  Later that night, I’m shoving Pizza in my mouth while Johanna goes on about how to turn a one night stand into a weekend fling.

  Thresh takes advantage of my distraction, picks me up, and sets me in his lap.

  I laugh and elbow him in the chest while he laughs at me trying to break away.

  I swallow down my pizza, take a gulp of my beer and turn, only to be met with a pair of familiar looking blue eyes.

  Instead of saying hi to Peeta Mellark like a normal person, I spew the entire beer all over myself and start choking on what was remaining in my mouth.

  My gasping and coughing gets the attention of the entire room. Madge helps me up and whisks me away to the bathroom only to realize I was wearing a soaked white t-shirt.

Madge reads me like a book.

  “I have an idea, trust me,” she says with her mad-scientist look, taking my t-shirt with her.

  Madge somehow comes back with 2 men’s t-shirts, one smelling like Gale and another smelling delicious, like cologne and something else masculine.

  We quickly put on the larger shirts and make our way out of the bathroom.

  Madge taps a shirtless Gale and he puts on Madge’s discarded shirt without breaking his conversation with a fellow engineering student.

  I look around and realize Madge convinced everyone to switch shirts with the opposite gender.

  Johanna winks at me, then pulls a tall, handsome redhead wearing her shirt into the kitchen, revealing Peeta behind her; smiling and  wearing my wet, white t-shirt, tight across his chest like a tight crop top.

  “I think I owe you this,” he says, handing me a new beer.

  “Madge was a genius! It really livened up that party!”

  Peeta and I laugh about seeing all the guys at that party struggling to keep wearing the girls’ tight-fitting shirts on. It became a “thing” at college parties.

  “People were talking about it for weeks!”

  “I think some embarrassing pictures taken after a few rounds of shots are still floating around FB somewhere,” I snicker, then stop. My eyes widen when I think of a particular picture of Peeta and I that made me blush when it surfaced on Facebook days after that party. I don't remember anything about it, but it's been documented. Handsy when drunk. Among other...things.

  We grin at each other. Then continue eating breakfast.

  Leading up to party time, the day is nearly unbearable with tension.

  Caterers are setting up. I look over the main level and realize that it's best for me to stay out of the way while Loretta barks out orders to the decorators and her sons, putting everything in its final place.

I can tell the moment it’s all too much for Peeta. All the pressure for perfection from his mother is going to make him snap soon. He needs a moment of peace. Some time that’s is real and not for show. “Do you wanna build a snowman?” I ask. He looks at me confused, then remembers those were my code words for ‘let’s get outta here.’ He laughs. “Let’s go for a walk, Peeta? I need some fresh air,” I ask, he nods and follows me to the door. He starts heading for the sidewalk, but I pull him around toward the back through the woods. The snow is especially beautiful here in the woods, the quiet of the snowflakes falling is so soothing. “Katniss I–,” He wants to talk, but I don’t want to. I launch a snowball at his back to shut him up. He turns with a mischievous look on his face, but before he can reach for his own ammunition I pelt him twice. Snowballs fly back and forth as we laugh and dodge, weaving between trees.

  I duck behind a tree. It’s quiet, usually I can hear his heavy tread anyway, so this my chance to take him by surprise. I can’t see him anywhere. It’s silent. As I’m walking, I think I hear something, so I stop. A yank on my ankle and I’m propelled backwards landing in a soft pile of snow. Peeta’s arms wrap around me as he emerges from the snow. Before I can protest, I’m equally covered in icy cold powder. We’re rolling and laughing. Peeta pins me down in an impressive wrestling move.

  I struggle. Peeta smiles down at me. “Okay, you win this round Mellark!” I admit defeat with a huff. My mitten covered hands raised up in surrender. Peeta kisses my nose and grabs both my hands to pull me out of the snow flashing a perfect triumphant smile. I shiver, maybe from the cold, maybe from his blindingly bright blue eyes, I can’t be too sure. He must have noticed the shiver because he wraps his arms around me and pulls me into his arms whispering into my ear, “I have some wood, let’s warm you up and light that fire.“ Was that an innuendo? I raise my eyebrows. He leans in and then smirks as we make our way back to the Mellarks’ house. I sigh. I thought he was going to kiss me for “real” when no one was looking and we didn’t have to be pretending in front of his family. The snow continues to fall around us and snowflakes get tangled in his impossibly long eyelashes. I turn away before he notices me staring.

  The whole family is spending the next few days here at the house, which I learned is “an annually required family bonding time.”

  They're all set up in various guest rooms for the next few days.

  The sister in laws are doing what they can to keep the children out of anyone's way.

  A sitter was hired for the party, but isn't due to arrive yet. I offer to help Clara and Lila while they get themselves ready. Also to get my mind off a certain blue-eyed tall blonde gorgeous someone who refuses to leave my thoughts. I'm 16 again and this is all confusing.

  6 busy grand-kids 8 and under is a lot to try to keep out of mischief. We color and play games.

  “Kat-iss.”

  “No! It's Kat-miss!”

  “Kat-iss!”

  “You can call me Kat, it's okay!”

  “Can we call you Aunt Kat? Daddy says you could be someday.”

  “Well, if some day does happen, then you can call me Aunt. Until then it's just Kat to you, got it?” I give a wink to Dane’s more pragmatic children, predictably the oldest.  

  I try to keep the wildness to a minimum, but there's only so much I can do. I have to admit, the Mellarks make adorable children!

  Lila comes back as I'm tickling two of her blonde giggling sons. She gives me a look.

  “You're a natural, Katniss!” She's beaming now at the thought of more nieces or nephews.

  “Uh, thanks. I'm going to go get ready now.” I don’t want to think about any hypothetical babies with Peeta.

  I give myself a pep talk as I adjust the push up bra I'm wearing under the emerald green dress Madge picked for me. “Try to be friendly, be a calming effect on Peeta.” I sigh as I pull out the detailed instructions and diagrams on how to do my make-up.

  “Thanks Madge.” I text her, with a picture of the finished, party-ready self.

  Mrs. Mellark did a double take when she saw me. Then raised her eyebrows in surprise, “You look lovely, Katniss,” she said, followed by a slow, but sincere smile.

  I smiled back and thanked her. Wow, a smile of approval from Mrs. Mellark, I never thought I would see the day.

  All I've gathered from this party is that loads of money was spent and it's all for show. It's boring and stiff. The entire first hour was introduction and light shallow conversation. The best part of this party is the food spread and the alcohol.

  I thought we would have been able to make out way over to Annie and Finnick by now, but we are being paraded around so Mrs. Mellark can brag about her handsome successful youngest.

  Apparently, being a Biochemist is impressive enough for her, because she's bragging about what I do. I didn't even realize she was paying any attention to my career explanation and clearly she googled some of her fast facts, because she didn’t ask me a thing.

  Peeta holds my hand tightly, as if he's worried I will bolt at the first chance. Which I would be lying if I said it hasn't crossed my mind.

  Maybe Peeta is playing it up for the cameras, but it seems like he’s very eager to kiss me with every opportunity. Maybe it helps with his nerves, but the chaste kiss count is racking up today.

  When Madge’s parents find me, they pull me in a tight hug.

  “Thank you so much for your help with our fundraiser last month, Katniss! We raised so much for aid the childhood hunger that our state is facing.” Madeline Undersee, always a champion for the underdog.

  Before I can say much, Senator and Mrs. Undersee gush about me to Loretta as if I am family. This is all quite the exaggeration. I'm a surly girl who was forced to grow up too fast, I do what anyone else would in my situation. I really do enjoy helping Madge with the causes that improve things for children who grew up with the struggles I had. Why wouldn't I help?

  I can't keep but feel a little surprised by the kind words said about me.

  “I can't imagine a better addition to your family, Loretta.” The senator motions to Peeta and I.

  As the 5 of us pose for a picture, a lump forms in my throat. I never meant to deceive Madge's parents.

  With that, Peeta's mom releases her hovering over us. We've appeased her. We're free to go.

  We spot Annie and Finnick, a welcome relief. Finnick has an audience of middle aged women hanging on his every word. He holds Annie at his side, almost protectively.

  As his audience erupts in laughter, Finnick takes the opportunity to head towards us. Pulling his best friend in a hug while Annie and I catch up.

  “You two look amazing together. A very cute couple,” Annie whispers in my ear.

  I just smile and shrug.

  After only a few minutes, the four of us are laughing and reminiscing. It feels like we're finally enjoying the party, with Finnick and Annie.

  Peeta looks over at his mom, then meets my eyes and steals another kiss. A thank you.

I pretend my heart didn't just flutter.

  Finnick raises his eyebrows then looks to Annie communicating wordlessly. It creeps me out when they do that, so I mumble something about more wine.

  Peeta keeps his hand in mine and follows.

  As we walk by the grand piano, I admire its beauty.

  Peeta gives me a look I can't read and then at the piano, like he's remembering something. He squeezes my hand and leans into my ear. His hot breath brushes my bare neck. I bite my lip, trying not moan or think any dirty thoughts.

  “You should play. Sing something, like you did at my cousin's party when we were kids,” he whispers.

  I try to ignore the husky, sexy sound of his whisper. Or imagine it being something dirty he's saying.

  Peeta misreads my quietness because he tries to convince me. “I think you were 11 and you had a red dress, your hair was in 2 braids. You were so excited to show Madge that you could play the piano like she could. It was a Christmas song, wasn't it?” Peeta asks.

  I lift my head and look into his eyes, his smiling face. “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas. I can't believe you remember that.” I try to hide my surprise.

  Peeta smiles as I find my seat on the bench.

  I haven't sang in so long but, for some reason, the look Peeta gave me all the confidence I need. I'm almost excited to sing for him.

  I play the intro on the piano and I notice the chatter in the room die down.

  “Have yourself a merry little Christmas Let your heart be light From now on your troubles will be out of sight Have yourself a merry little Christmas Make the Yuletide gay From now on your troubles will be miles away Here we are as in olden days Happy golden days of yore Faithful friends who are dear to us Gather near to us once more Through the years we all will be together If the fates allow Hang a shining star upon the highest bough So have yourself a merry little Christmas Have yourself a merry little Christmas So have yourself a merry little Christmas

Nooooooow.”

  My fingers dance over the keys as I close out the song. The dancing in my heart continues and I can't keep the joy inside from spilling out onto my face.

  Music has a way of making right something inside us. It felt like my dad was with me. Smiling.

  “Hey are you okay?” Peeta looks concerned. He starts wiping away tears I didn’t know I shed.

  I take a deep breath. “Yeah, I-I just miss them. I miss my dad,” I attempt to explain.

  Peeta pulls me into an empty room and just holds me close. Exactly what I needed.

[fabermemorialrink]

some mistake, part 7

Last part of chapter two! Chowder’s back, and we meet some new friends!

Also, a quick PSA: if I ever screw up with regards to race/gender/sexuality (or anything else), please don’t hesitate to let me know so I can do better! I want everyone to have a positive reading experience. Thanks!!

Chowder’s reaction to Dex bleeding on his shoes was a complex cocktail of fascination and disturbed worry: the cherry on top of a very informative face journey that Derek studied like visual poetry as Dex caught him up to speed. Like Derek, Chowder emphatically refused to stop visiting, which they proved so often that Dex had to kick them out after they skipped a team game night.

More often than not, Derek and Chowder head over to see Dex together, though there are times when one of them is too busy with work to go. Derek loves being part of a trio, but he also appreciates the time he gets to spend with each of his friends individually. Chowder’s roomie is often out and about socializing, so Derek takes to setting up a base camp on C’s floor, where they study and philosophize together. Most questions are open-ended and profound (who would win in a fight, Mr. Rogers or Elmo? would you rather sleep on legos or have a splinter in your tongue?), but the most important question of all cycles back into rotation every few days:

What’s up with Dex and the forest?

Chowder thinks it’s better not to prod, but Derek can’t leave it alone. It’s a secret, but the kind that Dex is willing to entertain guesses about. He archly shoots down Derek’s suggestions that he might be a woodland nymph like the girls, and repeatedly insists that if he had any kind of therianthropy, he would have already shifted and eaten one of Derek’s limbs in annoyance.

It comes up again in conversation when Derek’s helping Dex cut up invasive vines again. Knowing that the forest is alive puts this activity in a new light; Dex tells him that he knows which plants belong to the woods, and which ones the forest considers a threat, so Derek just follows suit and rips out the roots he’s instructed to. There was a lingering uneasiness at the thought of touching the plants again at first, but they’re in the outer ring, where the light filters in, and Dex promises that if anything tries to grab Derek again, he’ll hatchet it right off. Maybe he should be more freaked out, but he can almost feel the truce between himself and the forest now. At the very least, Dex’s presence always makes him feel at ease.

“How’s it going? Not too tough for your delicate poet’s hands, is it?” Dex calls over across the grove. The sleeves of his plaid shirt have been rolled up, and his hatchet and lantern have been put aside next to Derek’s calc homework that Dex was looking over - dangling from the lantern’s wire handle are his crab keychain and a small bottle filled with a rainbow of miniscule origami lucky stars that Chowder gifted him. There’s dirt all over Dex’s knees and hands, but his posture is loose and he seems content. It's a good look for him.

Derek makes an obscene gesture in his direction. Dex wholeheartedly refuses to believe that Derek would ever drop his gloves during a game, citing Derek’s chill masquerade and elegant piano student fingers which would surely shatter on some goon’s cheekbones. Derek’s not big on fighting either, but he resents the implication that he couldn’t at least hold his own to defend his teammates.

“What, you wanna have a go at me?” Dex says with a grin, straightening up to his full height, which is still obnoxiously taller than Derek.

Derek snorts, kicking a clump of roots and dirt toward him. “Don’t go crying to Chowder when I whoop your ass, you skinny bastard.”

“Right, like you wouldn’t trip over your own head while trying to throw a punch. I’m not going to fight you, pretty boy.”

The way he says those words isn’t much different from the Wicked Witch of the West calling Dorothy ‘my pretty,’ but it causes a curl of embarrassment in Derek’s stomach anyway. Dex does this sometimes - calls Derek pretty in that wry tone of his. But it’s not pointedly sarcastic, like the way he gets when he’s intentionally needling Derek about rich people stuff, so Derek is left wondering what it’s supposed to mean. He knows he has nice eyes, and that he’ll hopefully grow into the good facial features he inherited from his parents, but currently, he’s just kind of plain, and full of teenage awkward. Nothing close to pretty.

Still, when Dex says it with a hint of smile Derek’s dumb guts do a strange twisting thing where he thinks they might turn inside out, accompanied by a tightness in his chest from being put on the spot. Not chill. But it's probably good for him to get it out of his system now, in preparation for the far future when someone really does compliment him so he doesn't look like a total loser.

Still, it always gives him a second of pause, throwing a hiccup into his thought process and leaving him scrambling for words, like now. “Are you a witch?” he winds up asking, apropos of nothing, still stuck on the thought of Dex zooming around on a broomstick and cursing young girls from Kansas.

“Am I a witch,” Dex repeats, raising an eyebrow. Derek almost goes to change the subject, then thinks on it a moment, and decides he actually does want to hear the answer to this.

“Yeah, or a wizard? Or whatever the preferred terminology is.”

Dex’s brow wrinkles, and he shakes his head like Derek is a particularly foolish child. “I’m not a witch, Nursey. Where’d you get that idea from?”

“Never mind. Are you a cryptid?”

“What-”

“Animals or creatures known only through anecdotal evidence, like the sasquatch, or-”

“I know what a fuckin’ cryptid is, you dope, but I’m not some kind of goat man-”

Derek chuckles at the expression Dex is sporting. He looks utterly offended. “I was thinking more like the Dover Demon? Glowing orange eyes, weird-ass hands…”

“You’re dead to me,” Dex laughs. And he pointedly ignores Derek for the next ten minutes until Derek literally jumps on him. He successfully catches him, arms wrapped tight around Derek’s middle, but keels over when his knees give out.

So, no progress on that end, but Derek isn’t going to forget about it anytime soon.

Winter is wild and blustery this year, and Dex decides they can’t meet his friends until after all the snow has passed. Derek tries asking a few times, but Dex always buries his face in Derek’s latest history essay and starts commenting loudly in order to ignore him. There finally comes a day in February where Derek and Chowder show up on Dex’s figurative doorstep bundled to the nines and freshly brewed bribery hot chocolate. The snow isn’t anything more than a crisp flatbread layer under their boots (which Dex has also bled all over) but he still glares crossly at them nonetheless, trying to shoo them back to the dorms until they force feed him some hot chocolate.

“Dex. Bro. French Vanilla Truffle. Extra marshmallows.”

“Alright, fine, fine, get in here.” Dex finally concedes after he swallows three boiling marshmallows whole.

They stop by a spring that begins in the inner ring, though the other end of the water seems to disappear into a haze of shade and foliage. The water is frosted over in shattered panes of ice; Dex crouches down at the embankment and cards his fingers through the weeds as he peers under the surface, but stands shortly after and waves them along.

“She’s not in right now. We’ll have to catch her another day,” he says, and switches on his lantern.

Derek and Chowder link arms when they enter the heart, taking care to follow Dex carefully. Today, the heart is less terrifying, giving off just an aura of general unwelcomeness, but Dex’s steps are sure as ever, like he’s walked this unmarked non-path over the roots and through the maze of trunks a thousand times. They have to readjust to the wildlife noises again, but what’s even weirder is the sound that Derek finally notices coming out of Dex.

It starts off as a kind of uneven hum, but builds up to faint words he can hear when he concentrates.

“Interplanet Janet, she's a galaxy girl…”

“Are you singing Schoolhouse Rock?” Derek asks, trying not to sound as horribly giddy as he feels. He can get Dex to sing with him sometimes: mostly classic rock and Beyonce and pop hits from the mid-aughts. But Dex rarely begins on his own, no matter how much Derek waxes lyrical about his nice voice, which aggrieves Derek to no end.

Dex freezes for a split second, then keeps walking like it never happened. “Uh. It’s been stuck in my head for a while.” Probably since Chowder first started complaining about his independent science paper about new planets, Derek guesses.

“Oh, the grammar ones are the best! I like the adverb song,” Chowder says, starting to hum the starting notes.

Derek can practically see the shock of discomfort running through Dex’s spine, like electricity through a live wire. “It’s catchy, but a little too barbershop for me…”

“Oh my god, they’re not even a quartet,” Derek says in exasperation.

“Still…”

“What about Conjunction Junction?” C suggests next, which Dex agrees easily too, and then they’re off, Dex in a pitchy falsetto and Chowder’s tenor lowered to a raspy growl. Derek holds his breath, not trusting himself not to say something dumb and provoke them into stopping. Chowder has a way of getting Dex to do things that Derek never could in a hundred lifetimes, probably because C has secret mutant powers of persuasiveness and friendship and undetectable bullshittery.

Their duet continues into “Do the Circulation,” complete with Chowder spinning Dex around on his arm in a sloppy swing-dance, and Derek curses the forest gods and anyone else listening for not letting his fucking phone work out here, because when else will he ever get the chance to record this masterpiece? They both just look so charmingly happy, and Derek’s heart swells with it.

He almost forgets where they are until the darkness lightens slightly and the smog of flora opens up into a tiny clearing with a cottage nestled right in the center. It’s the very picture of a stereotypical fairy-tale cottage, covered in climbing ivy and magenta blossoms, built of gray stonework and wooden accents, complete with curved roof tiles and wall mounted lanterns that light the area with a homey glow.

“Uh,” Chowder says, mouth falling open. “So how many houses are hidden in this pocket dimension forest?”

“Not as many as you think,” Dex says, releasing Chowder’s arm, and turning to make sure he doesn’t lose Derek before they enter the house. “Bits? You home? I brought my friends,” he calls, rapping his knuckles against the heavy wood door.

“Come on in!” comes the response, with a slight southern lilt.

Dex pushes the door open and lets the other two in first. The inside is just as adorably quaint as expected from the outside, with a fireplace in the den, cacti on the windowsills and bundles of dried herbs hanging from the ceiling, and an enormous kitchen where a very busy blond is hustling back and forth, his arms cradling a glass bowl. The scent of peaches and sugar fills the brightly lit room, and Dex directs Derek and C to sit on a plump gingham couch in front of the fire. Right after they sit, Derek catches sight of three strange objects bobbing their way through the air toward them.

“Um,” Derek says. “I’m not imagining that, right?” He elbows Chowder, who turns to gape at what is apparently a few glasses of iced tea floating their way.

“Y’all like tea, don’t you? And I don’t mean that gritty, bitter nonsense you serve up here-”

“Sweet tea sounds great,” Derek says automatically as a glass settles into his confused hands. Dex catches his own, and guides the last glass into Chowder’s grasp, the other boy being too dazed still to do anything but stare in the direction of the kitchen, where whisks and butter and sugar are spinning in a waltz around Bitty. On the counter, peaches fall neatly into segments, pits falling to the side. Flour begins threading through the air like a curtain of snowfall, obscuring their sight for a moment before it settles down into his bowl, the whisk still dancing.

“Thanks, Bitty,” Dex says, jolting Chowder back to reality. He calls out a thanks as well, before chugging half his glass in one go, and sinking deeper into the couch.

Derek sips slowly at the tea in silence as he starts to piece together the scene before them. Flying objects usually means magic. And magic means...

“Wait a second- Bitty’s a witch? Didn’t you say witches didn’t exist?” he asks, whirling on Dex, who’s leaning casually against the wall.

Dex and Bitty share a look, then a short laugh at Derek’s expense. “I just said I wasn’t a witch. You made your own inferences from that. Wrong ones.”

Bitty shakes his head, sending his bowl to settle gently on the counter with a wave of his hand. “Oh, Dex, you didn’t tell them? Wait just a second, I’ll be right over,” he says while hurrying to wash his hands at the sink.

“Nah, Bits, I thought maybe you’d wanna show ‘em yourself. Though, I think you kinda already have.”

Dex smiles briefly as Bitty dashes around his kitchen in a flurry, before turning back to Derek, who makes meaningful Eye Contact with him, but all he does is scrunch his mouth and shrug.

“What?” he mouths silently back, and Derek throws his hands in the air. Chowder continues to be slowly absorbed by the couch.

Bitty finally arrives, holding three pies in his arms. “Now, Dex never did tell me what your favorite pies are, so we’ll have to make do with these for today, but I promise I'll have something special for you boys next time you come around.” He places the pies - French silk, lemon meringue, and apple - on the table, then waves his hand absently toward the kitchen, summoning plates and silverware.

“I didn't want you flipping out and making a thousand pies. You know you always over-bake when you know guests are coming. Anyway, it's rhubarb for Nursey and honey walnut for Chowder.”

In short order, Derek and Chowder learn that Bitty is much, much older than looks, definitely a witch, and quite possibly the greatest piemaker in all of New England. Bitty preens under their compliments, and has no trouble answering the barrage of questions they pelt him with, or dodging them with practiced southern flair, but he’s much more interested in learning about “Dex’s darling little friends.”

Dex has to finally excuse them so they can leave the forest before it gets dark, but they don’t escape without each of them taking a pie for the road and the promise to return again soon. Bitty starts rattling off all the sweaters and birthday mini pies they’re going to get, and Dex has to physically drag Chowder out the door, since he’s too amiable and polite to know how to leave Bitty’s orbit.

Derek is stopped on his way out by a strong hand to his elbow, and he’s afraid (slash hopeful) that Bitty is going to try and unload another pie on him, but he only gives Derek a smile.

“I just wanted to thank you two for being such good friends to our Dex. I know he can be a bit cantankerous, but I think you’ve really brought him out of his shell, Nursey. All of us in here have noticed just how much he talks about the two of you. I’m glad we could finally meet.”

His approval feels significant, like Derek’s passed some sort of test. Derek swallows, and offers his sincerest smile back. “Thanks, Bitty. He’s- he’s one of us. He’s my best friend.” There’s more he wants to say, but from the way Bitty nods, it seems like he understands even without words.

Dex introduces them to The Falconer and her boys a few days later. She lives in a house on a small outcropping at the edge of the heart, her flock scattered in trees and small satellite houses nearby, except J, who resides with Bitty when he isn’t transformed.

She shakes Derek’s hand with a firm grip, and he trusts her instinctively. Something about her brown eyes and messy bun give her an aura of put-together trustworthiness, and from the way she handles Tater when he swoops down to land on her shoulder, it’s for good reason.

“Only J is actually a falcon,” Dex explains as they sit on her porch watching J and Tater circle each other in the air in the more open space of the inner ring. “Tater’s a white-tailed eagle. Snowy’s a snowy owl.”

“Wow, wonder where he got the nickname,” Chowder snorts, and Dex grins.

“Yeah. There used to be a few others - Thirdy, Marty -  but their curses ended, so they left. Marty, at least, was also a falcon, so that’s where she gets the title, I guess.”

“So they’re just cursed? For thirteen years? Because of some old family bullshit from like a zillion years ago?” Chowder tries to clarify, and Dex nods.

“Something like that. I never really got the specifics, but yeah, it’s like some primogeniture fairy curse thing. The Falconer’s been watching over them in here for decades now, so they always send the next in line back here to roost when he transforms for the first time.”

“And no one’s ever looked into breaking this curse?” Derek asks, raising an eyebrow when Dex just draws his knees up to his chest and makes a non-committal noise.

“Some curses can't be broken.”

“No way, dude. Every clause has a loophole. Every bad deal has a way out. And every curse should be breakable. Otherwise, how could we ever hold onto hope?”

“How could we,” Dex echoes, staring up at the loose feathers that flutter down like errant flakes of snow.

They meet the flock over the course of several days, since their human hours don’t always align with daylight. J, as a human, is reserved and broadly Canadian, but there’s a quiet warmth in his eyes that really comes out when he’s with Bitty. Tater is gregarious and friendly, Snowy more calm and settled, but none of them hesitate to gently chirp Dex when he makes introductions, spouting off things like “finally, we are meeting Dex’s frogs!” and “so this is who you’ve been skipping flight practice to hang out with, eh?”.

“I can’t even fly!” Dex exclaims, and J laughs, leaving the room to help Bits in the kitchen.

“That’s why you shouldn’t skip practice,” Snowy says through a bite of honey walnut pie, and Dex flings a fork at him. It stops in mid-air, accompanied by a “what did I tell you about throwing my good silverware?” from Bitty.

Dex mumbles an apology and sinks back into the couch between Derek and C.

“Hey, why are we your frogs?” Chowder asks, and Dex coughs awkwardly and takes a sip of his tea before explaining.

“Uh, there was a year I rescued some frog eggs and watched over them that spring.”

“Dex watches tadpoles like mother hen, every day sitting at Lardo’s pond,” Tater says, crouching on the rug to imitate Dex staring into the water.

Dex ignores Chowder’s “d’awwww” and mutters out, “Yeah, so now they call any of my rescues ‘frogs’. And you guys are, like, the frogs, I guess. The rest are just people I helped back out.”

“That’s mad adorable. Frogs, C, how about that?”

“It is adorable,” C agrees. Dex buries his face in his hands and they slide in toward him to sandwich him on the couch more securely.

“This was a terrible idea,” he mutters as Chowder rests his head on his shoulder and Derek steals the rest of his coconut cream pie.

Terrible idea or not, Dex does reluctantly bring them to meet the nymphs when winter starts to fade into spring. Camilla, an athletic blonde dryad with a wry sense of humor, shows them her tree: a towering, conical red spruce. Dex points out the nearby tree that J accidentally damaged that time he changed back to a human while perched on a thin branch.

April’s grove of yellow birches is located in the far end of Lardo’s spring, the bare grass underfoot dotted with translucent violet flowers. She regards them sternly as Dex introduces her as a nymph of groves, “not a dryad,” as she emphatically insists.

“Oh, like an alseid?” Derek asks.

“Yeah, actually,” April says, looking almost impressed, her pretty mouth curving with a hint of a smile.

“Of course you would know that,” Dex says.

And Lardo, she whose bro-itude holds no parallel, they finally meet on a slow afternoon after midterms. She emerges halfway from the water to meet them, resting her arms on the bank.

“Your old frogs were cuter,” she says brightly, leaning her cheek against one hand.

“They're plenty cute,” Dex tells her automatically, then pauses, squints, and changes his mind. “No, sorry, you were right. These two are...eh.” He makes an ambivalent motion with his hand, and Lardo nods sagely.

“Disrespectful to say that,” Chowder scoffs, “when you have two of Andover’s most eligible bachelors gracing you with their presence all the time.”

“He’s been over-exposed,” Derek says. “Kinda hurts my feelings, honestly.”

“Well, when you two dreamboats are done complaining, Lardo can give us a tour.” Dex rolls his eyes when Derek tries his best smolder on him and gives him a gentle shove.

Lardo is sweet and sharply funny, and much more knowledgeable about art and literature than Derek would’ve expected from a naiad. Dex explains after another visit that almost all of the forest’s denizens can leave, though whether they want to varies from person to person. The flock tends to travel together, just in case one of them transforms out of cycle. None of the nymphs can travel more than a few miles from their true bodies, but it’s enough to be able to go to the library or the movie theater. They never do meet Jenny or Mandy; all Dex will tell Derek is “they’re around somewhere” whenever he asks.

Over the remainder of sophomore year, they hang out with Dex’s friends several more times. Derek doesn’t know when he starts noticing it, but it feels like he understands Dex better now, after seeing who he is when he’s with the others. It’s not that Dex is a different person, but some of that always present distance that even Derek can’t close disappears when they’re in the heart with his friends.

It’s to be expected, he supposes. They’ve known him longer than Derek has, but still, he wonders when they’ll reach the day when Dex will feel as free around him. Not as long he feels he has secrets he needs to keep, but Derek won’t press it. As it is, he appreciates how much more open Dex already is, now that he and Chowder know about the woods. It feels like they've grown closer.

“What is it? My hair weird or something?” Dex asks when he catches Derek looking one day. He'd just been laughing about something April muttered under her breath as J walked by. Derek had been transfixed for a moment, watching the soft lamplight of Bitty’s porch lanterns casting bronze over Dex’s face while a wheezing cackle escaped his mouth. It's an extremely stupid noise, but it's endearingly free, and Derek feels for a moment like there are no more walls standing between them. Here he is, light-hearted and golden in the darkest part of the woods, and Derek can almost see all of him.

“Nah, just thought I saw a bug,” Derek lies, and Dex frowns.

“Ugh, mosquitoes,” he says, annoyed. “You might want to start wearing bug spray; they're relentless out here, and you have a scratching problem. Better to prepare now, or we’ll have to spend all summer slathering calamine lotion on you.”

Derek agrees absently, thinking about how odd it is that a flower can bloom in the darkness.

When the year ends, Derek returns to the city with a promise to come back with cotton candy, since Dex hasn't had any for well over a decade.

Over the summer, Derek finds himself missing them more than usual. He's overseas with mama for a good chunk of vacation, and doesn't have the chance this year to visit Chowder. August feels like it drags on, and though he loves hanging out with his New York friends, he can't help but wonder what Dex is up to for the summer. At least he can call and skype C, though their time zone difference and Chowder’s bizarre summer sleep schedule make it difficult sometimes.

But Dex could be doing anything. On the nights when no one else is in the apartment but himself, Derek wishes more than ever he could convince Dex to come see him. Maybe he could help cure that guilty brand of loneliness that afflicts Derek even when he's surrounded by people.

Maybe Dex will finally feel like he can be all of himself around Derek.

[thedegenerateasexual]

another big old fuckin rape warning jfc

incest warning too i guess? lmao this book

AN ENTIRE FLASHBACK CHAPTER im not ready

four days after the first encounter and kate hasn't made another move - "But she hadn't moved from the lifeguard perch all week, hadn't even spoken to him. She'd just watched him like a hawk, gaze trained on him, as he'd stroked through the water. One by one the other swimmers had left, and he'd remained behind, torn between disappointment that she hadn't done it again, and complete and utter relief that she was staying away from him."

and then she does: "He swam lap after lap beneath her scrutiny. Then, just as he did one last flip-kick and headed for the stairs in the shallow end, he felt the vibration of her approach in the water. And then she was swimming alongside him. He couldn't believe it. He didn't know what else to do except to keep swimming. What was he supposed to do? ... He thought about all those human, adult things that he hadn't done, that she obviously had—get a job, have a car..."

so then they stop swimming, and she takes his hand:

She smiled at him, much more shyly than he would have expected. She looked down, then peered up at him through her lashes.

"What you must think of me," she murmured.

His heart was pounding so hard he was sure that she could hear it. He had no idea what to say to her, and he also had no idea how to get out of the pool without embarrassing himself.

Except . . . he didn't want to get out of the pool. He wanted to kiss her.

"There's something about you," she whispered. "I've been thinking about you all week. I tried to stay away. I mean, you're a student and I'm . . . well, I'm not a teacher. But I'm close. To being a teacher."

She swirled her fingers through the water. "And this really isn't my style, you know? I don't come on to men like this."

Men. She thought of him as a man. He licked his lips, completely tongue-tied.

what kills me about this is that this is what he does in the show when confronted with kate, or other things that make him uncomfortable (jennifer) - when derek can't think of the right thing to say he goes dead fucking silent. he just plain stops talking. & i'm like devasated at the idea that it's a lifelong habit 

and then, this is the most manipulative part:

"I wish you'd say something," she murmured. "I'm kind of dying right about now. I'm sorry if I misread your intentions. I won't bother you again."

His intentions? Misread them? He was baffled. But then he thought about all the looks he had thrown her way. How he'd glanced up at the lifeguard tower every time he'd made a turn to head down the lane. Maybe he had been sending out signals.

THAT'S TEXTBOOK GASLIGHTING JESUS CHRIST HE'S SIXTEEN

it gets worse! she "assumes" he has a girlfriend and pretends to be all shocked when he says he doesn't because he's "so handsome and all" and then says "look this is happening in such an awkward way i dont mean to crowd you im just drawn to you i cant rly explain it" exCUSE me oh my god and then adds "but i don't want you to think i'm just after, well, YOU KNOW" THAT'S WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE but he's sixteen and never had a girlfriend so he doesn't know any better!!!!

so she asks if he wants to go for coffee and show her around and then adds "we'd have to be careful bc outsiders wouldn't understand" i'm pretty sure they'd understand just fine :///

like i knew it was like this but im still so outraged on his behalf jesus

and he's thinking about how he doesn't know any coffee places in beacon hills bc he spends most of his time out of the community but SHE says:

"I think we're both having the same thought," she murmured. "Privacy."

Privacy, as in being careful not to be seen together while they were hanging out? Or privacy as in . . . oh, God, was she serious?

"So we can get to know each other." She pondered a moment. "Would you think I was too forward if I invited you to my apartment? Just for coffee?"

and he's like panicking running through his options bc he wants to go but he's supposed to meet laura and there's only one car - she offers to drive him home, and oh, wouldn't she just love to know where the hale house is - but eventually he just says he needs to check in with his sister first - and she's like, "laura hale? oh dont be startled i made some discreet inquiries about you" and it doesn't trip his creep radar bc he doesn't have any life experiences but holy fuck that's like right next door to stalking

as an aside i don't like how they use wolf as a verb in this book it's weird - he began to wolf, his eyesight wolfed - like nah. no thanks

uhhhhh so derek asks laura to pick him up in 3 hours and she's like "whats in it for me" and he's like "i wont tell dad i saw you frenching josh" JOSH THEIR COUSIN??

the exact words were josh was peter's sister-in-law's kid

that's, uh

i mean that means peter's brother's kid, then, right? which means laura and derek's blood cousin???? alright then

oh god kate came in the locker room in JUST A TOWEL while he was talking he can't get a minute away from her

laura's like "ur gonna go do something slutty with a human aren't you" THIS IS CONTRADICTING SEASON 1 CANON LOL derek never told anybody about kate! laura is super weird in this book if my 16yo little brother was about to go sleep with a teacher i would never be so chill about it

Oh, sweetie, getting your attention is like shooting fish in a barrel, Kate thought as she drove Derek in her car to her apartment. It was across the street from a bar, which, from her point of view, was convenient for when she wanted to hang out with the grown-ups. She was wearing a pair of jeans, heeled boots, and a black low-cut cashmere sweater. I can practically hear you slobbering. It's like you're a big puppy dog and I am a juicy steak.

this dialogue.......

i wasn't like, having the worst time reading this book, it wasn't actually that bad, but jesus

oh my god

"The thrill of this new hunt raced through her. The euphoria of the chase. She never, ever got tired of dangling herself in front of males of all kinds. It was no accident that in ancient Greece, the deity in charge of the hunt was a goddess—Artemis. Beside her, Derek "Aquaman" Hale had his head resting on the back of the seat and his eyes closed. He was really good-looking. This was not going to be the most difficult thing she'd ever done in her life."

good GOD 

so she offers him a drink, and starts with coffee, but quickly escalates to wine: "I like to have a little something to unwind after I'm at the pool, you know? Lucky thing I live across the street from a bar." She said that to goose him a little, remind him she was a woman, with a woman's needs.

and that he's sixteen.

now she's talking about how she doesn't even know if derek and the hales are the wolf pack she's looking for: She had her orders, but she had to be sure. Kill werewolves, and you were a hero. Kill people, and you were a mass murderer. The group she was involved with had detected werewolf activity in Beacon Hills, and she just had a feeling about the Hales. Of course, there were several other large families in the area that might make up the pack she was seeking. Derek's furtiveness and hesitation might have nothing to do with her assignment. There were reasons other than being a werewolf for not wanting to bring home someone who was way too old for you. It hadn't dawned on him to question the motives of a pretty woman who was coming on to him. He believed what he chose to believe.

apparently she has some tragic backstory w/ this? "Menwerewolves and humanswere so simple. They always assumed you wanted them. Some fat man on a couch burping and watching cage matches? Oh, yeah, you wanted him. A guy who threw you around the room and accused you of cheating on him? Oh, yeah, you wanted him. Like a hole through your heart. But the good one? The one that you really did want? A flash of rage roared through Kate, but she kept it at bay. She could feel it trying to take over, like a wolf scratching at her door. Rage was not her enemy. Rage got the job done. In ancient Greece—land of Lycoan, said to be the first werewolf—men who pissed off the goddess Artemis were ripped to shreds by her hunting dogs. Several times a day, Kate dreamed about ripping various people to shreds. Of course, she never acted on it. She left that for others much less able to control their savagery." see, like, if derek wasn't 16, i could buy bad men in her life leading her to want to use men like this, but derek is a boy and she talks continuously about how innocent he is, so like...no slide

i know i'm just doing a lot of copypasta rn but it speaks for itself: "She watched as Sweetie Derek politely moved a packing carton off her sofa and sat down. What a body. Still boyish, but with the sweet promise of a truly splendid man. If she was right about the Hales, Derek would never become a man. Just as he wasn't really a boy. He was a monster hidden inside a human disguise." that aligns pretty well with the "they're all just a bunch of dumb animals to me" shit she talks in 1.11, also, "Sweetie Derek," this is so horrible

she finally pours them wine and leans against the counter to "give him a view" - "She waited for his response. He was staring at her body. Wanting her. Intimidated by her. She loved it." like this is SO BAD AND EXPLICIT she really does just love that he's young and unsure it's FUCKED

so then we switch to derek pov, and they eat like a light lunch of sandwiches with a long awkward silence, and he does a lot of internal monologuing about how cool it would be if she could come home and meet his family and be her mate

which like...i know how teenagers are but he met her five days ago. tbh real grooming, which is definitely what she's doing, takes longer than that, but i guess we were going for brevity here lol

(in this book derek's dad is the alpha? but in season 3 talia is, so i guess they changed werewolves then to be matriarchial like hunters)

like, she's asking him questions about himself - lucky number, favorite color - she asks him if he believes in fate. he keeps clamming up and she keeps trying to get him to talk so she finally asks about his swimming and he blurts out that there's just so much pressure, even though he can't really tell people about his "double life" and she like IMMEDIATELY responds with "yeah ofc there is hs is so rough like the ppl you have to hang out with some are still like babies and some are all rown up and ready for the real world like you" like...this is classic grooming techniques

and he's like flattered and think she's mega hot but he's also really nervous, and when she leans into his space and asks if he's ready: "He set down his sandwich. His heart was about to burst out of his chest. His body was quivering and trembling. He felt as if he were burning up." and he does say yes so i assume they banged but THANK god the chapter cut to black

[eldri-sv]

29 - Shinsou

Kaori Shinsou has always been fascinated by people’s minds. She is one of the best students in her Criminal Psychology course at U.A. and - being the lucky girl she is - her professor is not only one handsome dude, but is also working on the case of the serial killer Stain - a case that has been going on for years. As she is about to become Professor Aizawa’s TA during the next term, a lot of other interesting cases start popping up all over the country…

Oh, are we really born free?

(Nerina Pallot - Rousseau)

Kaori Shinsou wasn't sure what she was supposed to take away from this day. A whole lot had happened. It had started with her spilling coffee all over herself. She almost had fallen asleep in Ishiyama's course again, but thankfully he didn't notice this time (even though he made a remark about her coffee-stained blouse). Then, during lunch, Nishiyama had been making snarky comments at her constantly.

Kaori was trying to look for Hitoshi, but he was nowhere to be seen. She wondered if he had even gone to school. It was also during lunch that she had gotten that weirdass email from Aizawa. It really bugged her that he just wouldn't talk to her anymore. The only communication they had was via email. And even that was minimal. He only ever sent an email when there was something important now.

And now he wanted her to meet with Tsukauchi during office hours? What did Tsukauchi want from her? Kaori had hoped that she might hear something about it either before or after the Criminal Psychology class, but nothing. Everything was as usual, except for Aizawa completely ignoring her. It was starting to really piss her off how he was ignoring her all the time.

The rest of the day went by and Kaori figured it would be a good idea to see if she could borrow a blouse or a shirt from someone else. The thing was that only Takami was still on campus. Through some miracle of fate today was the single day in his whole life he was actually wearing a dress shirt. So they had met in the library and changed shirts. The good thing about Takami was that he just didn't give a shit.

So it didn't bother him walking around in Kaori's coffee stained blouse (which honestly looked ridiculous on him, because it was a woman's blouse and it was way too small for him). Kaori was pretty happy with this exchange. Takami's shirt was far from spotless, but there were barely any visible stains on it. At least she wouldn't look like an idiot in front of Tsukauchi.

After the exchange had happened, Kaori had decided to take a bit of a nap in the library, before continuing to study. She had a good bit of time until she had to go to her little chat with Tsukauchi.

She hadn't realised, however, how tired she was and was thankfully woken up by the librarian who shushed her out of the library, because they were closing. Which was just in time, because she really should have been at that meeting already. On the way to the classroom, she was quickly checking her texts and apparently Takami had ended up in detention. Whether that was for walking around campus shirtless or in her blouse was a little unclear and she had no time to ask.

And then Tsukauchi had asked her - the walking, talking mess that she was - whether she wanted to join the National Police Department for her work studies. What a question was that even. Anyone who'd say no to that opportunity was basically committing professional suicide.

And the whole interaction with Aizawa after that - it had been kind of awkward, but... she was glad that they were talking again and that she knew what had happened. She was still pissed about those rumours (which clearly came from Nishiyama, let's be honest here). But at least she was going to the summer camp with her hot professor and Nishiyama was... well, not.

Kaori opened the door to her home. Thankfully, it had been later in the evening when she was on her way home, so the sun wasn't beating down as mercilessly anymore. Today had been an insanely hot day. Maybe she should take the time and head to the U.A. pool one of these days. If the weather stayed as good as this, then maybe a nice refreshing swim would be worth enduring the crowded pool.

"Toshi, are you home?" Kaori shouted, as she dropped her bag on the kitchen chair. First of all, she needed coffee. She got the kettle and filled it up with water, before starting to clean out the french press.

"Where the hell have you been?" Hitoshi asked, sticking his head out of his door. He looked like he was up to something.

"Where have you been all day? I didn't see you during lunch." Kaori countered his question. He shrugged.

"I might or might not have gotten lunch somewhere else. How long do you think the shops will still be open?" he wanted to know. Kaori raised an eyebrow at him as she started putting the coffee grounds in the french press.

"What do you need?" she replied.

"Nothing, just wanted to have a look."

"Oh my God, Hitoshi, you're the worst liar in the entire world." Kaori said and poured the boiling water over the coffee grounds. She turned back to Hitoshi who was rubbing the back of his neck.

"You heard about this black tie party that the Psychology department is organizing in Shibuya?" he asked. Kaori huffed. Hitoshi probably thought that this was inconspicuous, but it wasn't. At all.

"Who asked you to go?" she wanted to know with a smile. Of course she had heard of that party. It was organized every year and a lot of people got really, really blackout drunk every year.

"No one, I... I was wondering if you'd maybe wanna go with me?" he said. Kaori raised an eyebrow.

"Me? Why do you wanna go in the first place?"

"I thought it might be fun."

"Bullshit."

"I overheard Kaminari and his friends talking about going. So I figured, if I go we might get talking or something. Plus, it would make sense for me to go, since I'm in the Psychology department." Hitoshi explained, looking a little embarrassed. Kaori smiled and slowly pushed down the plunger in the coffee press.

"Why aren't you going on your own then?" she asked.

"Going alone would suck." Hitoshi replied

"Okay, that's fair I guess. Want a cup?" Kaori said. Hitoshi nodded.

"Is that why you asked about the shops?" she wanted to know. Hitoshi nodded again and grabbed one of the cookies out of the tin that was left on the kitchen counter. Kaori got two cups out of the cupboard and was about to start pouring the coffee into them when Hitoshi stopped her.

"Please don't." he said and took the french press out of her hand. Kaori watched impatiently, as he poured the coffee slowly. It was like torture. She needed a quick fix and Hitoshi was making a ritual out of it.

"For fucks' sake, Toshi. It's getting cold, before we can drink it." she muttered, tapping her fingers on the countertop passive-aggressively. Hitoshi just laughed and shook his head calmly.

"It won't get cold. Patience, Kao-chan." he replied and finished pouring the coffee. Kaori grabbed her cup energetically and of course spilled some drops of it on Takami's shirt. Didn't matter, she'd have to wash it anyway, before giving it back.

"So. Why are you back so late?" Hitoshi asked again, slowly sipping from his coffee. Kaori hopped onto the kitchen counter and leaned her head against the cupboards. For some reason she had always preferred sitting on top of the counter to sitting on a chair, like a normal person.

"I had a meeting with someone and they made a proposition. I accepted." she answered. Hitoshi raised an eyebrow, clearly not happy with that answer. Kaori felt lazy, however. If he wanted to know more he'd have to ask.

"What kind of proposition? Sounds kinda weird if you put it like that. And whose shirt is that? I know you don't own a shirt like this." Hitoshi replied.

"That's Takami's shirt. Had to borrow it, because I spilled coffee all over my blouse." Kaori said with a sigh.

"Ah, that's why he was running around campus shirtless. So what the hell was that meeting about?"

"Detective Tsukauchi asked me if I wanted to continue my work studies under him in the National Police Department." Kaori answered, as if it was completely unimportant. She just had no energy left at this moment. Hitoshi looked at her, his eyes full of disbelief. He shook his head.

"No fucking way."

"Yup. Gonna work with Aizawa. First thing I'm gonna do is help with the Stain interrogation. Kind of Hannibal style I'd imagine." Kaori replied with a shrug. Hitoshi's eyes looked like they might fall out of their sockets. Which was a disturbing thing to imagine, really, if Kaori hadn't seen worse.

"You're fucking with me." he finally said. Kaori laughed.

"No, Toshi, I'm not fucking with you."

"You and Aizawa working together is gonna get awkward, isn't it? Like, with the two of you not talking anymore and all?" he asked.

"I think it'll be fine actually. Aizawa and I talked after I accepted Tsukauchi's offer and we're all good now. He asked me to come to the summer camp with him, as his TA." Kaori explained.

"But you're not his TA."

"Not yet."

Hitoshi raised his eyebrows and Kaori could absolutely tell what he was thinking. She sighed and shook her head, taking a big gulp of coffee, before she even thought of replying to that face he was making.

"No. Don't say it. I'm not sleeping with my professor, okay? That's why he was weird to me, because he heard the rumours. But it's bullshit and we're all good again. Besties and what not."

"Well, if you say so. You wanna check for some clothes to wear to the party? We can see what we have and what we still need." Hitoshi suggested. Kaori nodded. She should be studying, but she knew Hitoshi wouldn't let her.

"Sure. The night is young."