#but she's happy she gets to stick around with Raf too...and then soon realizes the full implications of what he tells her

[painted-bees]

Thinking a little more on the whole "when did Margie and Raf realize they were In A Relationship?" question, and while they'd both struggle to find a definitive moment, I think there was one particular situation that arose to kinda...lock things in for them.

Sometime prior to autumn 2009, Margie was headhunted by Bioware[Edmonton] thanks to the recommendation of an old Orbital Media colleague who was trying to establish/salvage Bioware's beleaguered handheld dev team. Following a promising phone interview, she was asked to make a 30 second demo track as part of the hiring process, and met expectations well enough that she was offered a job as an in-house musician and sound designer. Which also meant that she'd have to move to Edmonton. She had been keeping Raf up to date with this whole thing, mostly because she was too excited to keep it to herself. Raf was hugely supportive and excited -for- her. 'Cus like...he plays games. He even plays Bioware games, so, yanno...very cool. But he had also assumed this was gonna be more of a freelance contract kind of thing. And so, hearing her mention that the company would cover the costs of relocating her to Edmonton comes as a weird surprise. And suddenly, he's having a real hard time being excited for her. He keeps it to himself, 'cus he'd be an asshole not to. He's been really adamant with himself, and with anyone who asks, that he and Margie are just really good, comfortable friends/roommates. But even by this point, he's kinda known and been unwilling to admit to himself that the only reason he hasn't openly recognized their relationship for what it actually is--is because the non-committal ambiguousness provides him a clean way out if he starts feeling cagey/uncomfy about anything. It was an exit door that he liked keeping open incase he needed it. But Margie had seen it differently. To her, it was a door she figured she was gonna have to leave through eventually. Because Raf would inevitably find a more serious partner to settle down with, or he'd be whisked off by some other important venture that she couldn't be a part of. She figured he was leaving that door open because his current situation was a temporary transitional stage in his life that he simply allowed her to be a part of. And so, she's not really torn-up about the prospect of leaving, especially under the circumstances. It presented an easier, more exciting transition than she might have had to face if Raf had 'outgrown' her first.

So, Margie's excited about the new job offer, and Raf's sitting there feeling like he played himself--while being wholly unable/unwilling to tell her "Hey, uh...this sucks, actually, I really don't want you to go." Because that'd require him to admit that he's been lying to himself--which sucks. But more than that, it'd require him to admit that he's been lying to her--only employing honesty as a tool of convenience to dissuade her from going and getting something really good for herself. He can't, he won't. The sudden off-key in his tone, though, doesn't go unnoticed by her, and Margie is perfectly candid about the whole "we'll visit each other, I'll stay in touch--I'm not gonna disappear on you lmao" Except that's not really...how Raf operates. Distance + time does not make this man's paranoid lil' heart grow fonder. There's never been a relationship-friend, family, or otherwise-with enough staying power for Raf to maintain it once they're no longer within physical proximity. Even if he wants to 'keep in touch', it quickly falls off. He's just known...too many people, and been too many places...his brain doesn't have the bandwidth to maintain close relationships when there's a distance. And, after a long enough pause in communication, his paranoid anxieties lift the barrier of entry higher and higher until it's almost insurmountable. People become strangers again. Always. In the end, Bioware did not get to develop any more handheld titles, and the handheld division in Edmonton is dissolved before Margie was even offered a job start date to plan her big move around. And so the whole thing falls apart before it even had the chance to get started lmao. At which point, Raf finally allows himself to be honest and say "thank god, I was fuckin' dreading an empty apartment again." Treats her to a consolatory dinner, and gets to tell her as much as he is able to figure out for himself--that he doesn't really know what he wants, actually--but that things aren't as casual and clean-cut as he thought it was. He still can't bring himself to be like "yes, romantic committed relationship, that's us, that's what we are" but he does at least take measures to establish that he'd really like to take off his shoes, place them on the rack next to hers, and close the door behind him.

[ellewritesathing]

So Close - S.S. XXXIII

Summary: The universe has a funny way of putting the things you want right in front of you, but just out of reach. Stiles and Y/N have been best friends ever since Scott brought him home, but when Stiles realizes that he might want to be something other than best friends, she leaves to go to some fancy private school up North. Now that she’s back though … maybe he’s got a shot? A Teen Wolf AU in which the reader has always been so close to Stiles and yet so far.

Masterlist    Prev. | Part 33

Word-count: 3.4k+

A/N: i would like to personally thank every person who got bored during quarantine and found my blog. i see you. i love you. thank you for reading and sticking around💕

The McCalls and the Stilinskis had always been such close parallels of one another that you’d gotten used to your families doing things together and making progress at the same time. Scott and Stiles started school at the same time, you never very far behind. Claudia died before Raf left, but it felt the same in the long run. Family dinners every Thursday, Noah teaching each of the kids to drive in the Jeep, and Mel helped you all with your homework. 

Two families, but not really. 

That’s why it was so weird that Noah was going out on a date. His first date in maybe ten years. With Lydia’s mom. 

“Oh, I should’ve gotten a haircut,” Noah mumbled as he checked himself out in the mirror. 

“Well, you know, someone your age should be happy you still have hair to cut,” Stiles said, pushing the mirror down so Noah would pay attention to him. 

“I think you look great,” Scott said. 

You took a step forward and fixed Noah’s tie for him. With a smile, you said, “Yeah, like a silver fox minus the silver.” 

“Well, thank you, children I should have had,” Noah said pointedly. 

Two families, but not really.

Stiles kept trying to pry information out of his dad so you moved out of their way as they bickered. At least that wasn’t changing anytime soon. You and Scott were still making jokes about how long it’d Noah to reach his limit and leave for his date early when you heard some yelling from the bullpen. It was so venomous that you thought your ears would bleed. 

The four of you left the privacy of Noah’s office to find Parrish and Clarke holding back some kid who was trying to make a run for the office. The kid was threatening to kill Noah.

“Donovan, if you think that shocks me, remember that it was well-documented in your Anger Expression Inventory,” Noah said, clearly unfazed by the death threats. “Deputies, escort the prisoner out.” 

“No, I’m not angry like I’m gonna throw a brick through your window,” Donovan said, still trying to break through the deputies’ grip. “I’m angry like I’m going to find you, like I’m going to get a knife, and like I’m going to stab you with it until you’re dead. And when you look at me and you ask why, remember right now. Because this is why.” 

His heart rate didn’t rise or drop as he threatened. It was steady the entire time; like a drum keeping time to a death march. He wasn’t bluffing; Donovan really believed that he was going to kill Noah. 

“Wow, that was awesome,” Stiles said next to you. He had his arms crossed in front of him and was wearing the least interested, most sarcastic expression in his arsenal. But his heartbeat said something else. “That was awesome, really. That was great. Wanna do one more?” 

Donovan’s heartbeat was starting to rise. 

You put a hand out to catch one of Stiles' gesturing hands to get him to stop. It's not that you were afraid of Donovan, but everything about the situation felt wrong. His hand was moving so you settled on the top of his arm. “Stiles-”

“Come on, give us another one,” Stiles went on. “Maybe like Christopher Walken this time, you know?” He finally noticed your hand and folded his hand over his chest again to hold yours. “Okay, you know what? It’s fine. You’ll have plenty of time to work on it when you’re in your tiny, little cell. You know? Just stuck there. Forever.”

Donovan faked turning around for a second before doubling back and lunging for Stiles. You pulled Stiles behind you as Scott and Noah moved in front of him and Parrish and Clark restrained Donovan. He was still yelling about how he was going to kill Noah as he was being dragged out of the station.

You hoped he’d rot. 

The three of you weren’t even five minutes out of the station when Kira called about Lydia finding a body. Stiles made an only-slightly illegal u-turn and drove you guys to the scene - Donovan’s police transport van. Your blood ran cold as the bodies were wheeled past you and you reached for Stiles’ hand. 

Noah waved you guys over to him. “Scott, you saw this kid - Donovan. He … he wasn’t like you, right?” “I don’t think so,” Scott said. 

“Unless he knows how to hide his scent,” Stiles said. 

“Well, human or otherwise, this kid might have just murdered his lawyer and mortally wounded two officers,” Noah said. Deep frown lines were already etched into his forehead, despite only being at the scene for five minutes. “We’ve got an APB out on him, but you think you can find him faster?”

“I can try,” Scott said. 

“I’ll stay in case he doubles back,” you said, with a nod in his direction. 

Something caught your eye in the rafters of the alleyway and you busied yourself trying to focus on it amidst the flashing lights and police chatter. It felt familiar, sinister. But it disappeared before you got the chance to find it. 

Stiles touched your arm lightly, drawing you back to all the noise. “Hey, you okay?” 

“Yeah,” you lied. “Just a bit on edge. It felt like …” 

“Like what?” Stiles asked.

You looked back up to that spot in the rafters. “Like Theo.”

---

“Tracy wasn’t just having trouble sleeping,” Lydia said for the second time. “It was a real disorder. It was night terrors.”

“Right, well, now she’s the night terror,” Stiles said. “Especially since no one can find her.”

“Okay, I know we’re all tired and miserable-” Scott paused to look at Mason, who was completely enthralled by the conversation. “Except for you.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry. This is all just mind-blowing,” Mason said. He looked over at Kira. “You’re a Kitsune. I don’t even know what that is!”

“I’m still learning,” Kira said with a smile.

“Liam, we said you could tell him, not invite him to the inner circle,” Stiles said.

“Uh, I’m in the inner circle?” Mason asked. 

It made you laugh. Mason reminded you of a much sweeter, much more curious version of Scott when he was younger. Also much less annoying.

“No!” 

“Look, guys,” you said, putting your hands on the bus as you thought over how to phrase it. “Tracy is dangerous, no doubt, but she’s a lone wolf. Lone wolves don’t survive. We have to find her.” 

“One lone serial-killing wolf,” Malia said

“Uh, she only killed one person, you know,” Stiles said, tilting his head. “The other two were just mauled.” 

“So what do we do once we find her?” you asked. 

“I say we put her down,” Malia said, almost without hesitation. 

“No way,” you said. “Tracy isn’t in control. You guys didn’t put me down when I wasn’t in control.” 

“Uh, I tried,” Malia said. “Remember?” 

“Vividly,” you said in a low voice.

“Woah.” Mason’s sweet little voice broke through the tension. “Intense.”

Yeah, that was one way to describe it. It was intense as you butted heads with Malia and intense when Liam pulled the fire alarm so you could get Tracy out of the school. Intense when something metallic started pouring out of her mouth. 

“Now, this silvery substance at her lips ...” Deaton said quietly. “It’s not something I’ve seen before. It looks almost like mercury.”

Tracy started moving on the exam table and everyone took a step back except for you. 

“Can’t you just give her a shot of something?” Malia asked.

“She doesn’t look to be in any pain,” Deaton said.

“I meant a shot to kill her,” Malia said.

You turned your back on Tracy so you could get a good look at Malia before you started arguing. “Would you stop talking about killing her? She's not that different from you.”

“Exactly,” Malia said. “She wouldn't hesitate to kill me.”

“Regardless of intent, I generally prescribe to a code of ethics that frowns upon such measures,” Deaton said.

“Yeah, Malia, you know we’re not going to do that,” Scott said. 

“Well, how do you guys know she’s not gonna kill us?” Malia asked. 

“She makes a pretty decent point,” Stiles said hesitantly. He went on, despite your protests, “Either way, eventually I’m going to have to let my dad know she’s here.”

“Agreed,” Deaton said. “And while I may argue against euthanasia, I’m not opposed to a little …” he took a bottle off one the counters and unscrewed the lid. “Extra protection.”

You watched Deaton scatter the mountain ash and your breath hitched. This was your first time actually having to worry about the barrier; your first time being trapped by it. You tried to ignore the trapped feeling as Malia moved around to investigate and just focused on Tracy. You wiped some of the mercury off her chin. 

Deaton called you and Scott to hold Tracy down for him so he could try some more tests. He used a scalpel to slice into her arm like you’d seen him do with Derek all those months before, but nothing except Tracy’s breathing changed until the scalpel snapped.

“I think you’re gonna need a bigger blade,” Stiles said, taking a step toward the table.

Scott took a break to check his messages and you helped Deaton flip Tracy over when he found something in her neck. Scott was talking about the condition of the driver from the attack, but you were too focused on Tracy to pay attention to him. Her back seemed fine - until something started moving around her spine. 

“I think I know what she is,” Stiles said. 

“Would you care to enlighten the rest of us?” Deaton asked. “Because this doesn’t look too good.”

The others came closer as Deaton prodded the movement under Tracy’s skin. It was sickening to look at but you couldn’t look away. And then it burst open, spraying blood all over the room. It was electric. Metallic. You were too busy trying to scrub it off your face to notice what everyone was staring at on the table. And then you got sliced across the face by a tail. 

You tried to grab Tracy’s ankle as she landed on her feet, but the paralysis came too quickly. All you could do was watch her break through the mountain ash barrier and run out the door.

“How did she do that?” you asked, panic rising in your voice. Being paralyzed was horrible, too close to not being in control of your body. You hated it.

“I don’t know,” Deaton said. “It’s a barrier no supernatural creature should be able to cross.”

“Scott did it,” Stiles said.

“Once, but it nearly killed me,” Scott said. 

“We should’ve killed her!” Malia growled.

“Meanwhile, she’s probably on her way to killing someone else,” Stiles said.

“Can you guys, please, stop talking about killing people?” you asked. Your breathing was labored. You needed to move. 

The blood on your face didn’t do anything to ease your panic, but at least you weren’t the only one freaking out. Scott and Deaton were both telling Malia to focus on healing, and she was getting just as angry as you were anxious. 

The nerves faded, slightly, as you listened to Deaton explain how to focus your healing. Again, the only thing that put you at complete ease was listening to Stiles’ heartbeat - which was sky-high. It crashed in a few minutes, despite the uncomfortable position he was in, giving you a small sense of comfort. 

When Jackson was still the kanima, Derek had started training the wolves to heal from paralysis. Pain was the key. Using Stiles’ heartbeat to drown out the noise, you focused on shifting your claws, and - if that didn’t hurt enough - sank them into your side. If you remembered right, the fraction of time this shaved off the wait wasn’t even worth all the effort, but you had to do something.

Blood, sweat, and tears aside, you weren’t the first one to start moving. Malia was. First, it was the tips of her fingers and then the rest of her hand, movement slowly snaking through the rest of her body. It made you feel dangerously jealous, but it also made you fiercely protective. You wouldn’t let Malia kill Tracy.

Stiles was yelling at Malia to wait for the rest of you, and Scott was reminding her to save Tracy. You were still trying to move but that didn’t mean you couldn’t let Malia know that there would be hell to pay if she killed Tracy.

Malia ignored you as she dragged herself out of the animal clinic.

The minutes that ticked past until you could move again were dreadful. You’d finally started moving again when Theo showed up. He tried to pull you up and you slapped his hand away, telling him to get Scott so you could get Stiles.

It was still weird having the strength to lift him. Your whole body ached from the paralysis, tingling and full of static, but you could still hold up all of Stiles’ weight in your arms like it was nothing. The tear on his chest looked painful. He was struggling to stand, his face accidentally knocking into the side of yours as the two of you slumped over to the exam table. 

“How did you find us?” Scott asked. 

“‘Cause you work here,” Theo said. “I heard about Tracy. I’ve been looking for you.”

When Stiles could lean against the table on his own, you moved over to help Deaton up. “Why did you look for us?” you asked

“I want to help,” Theo said. No one said anything but you did exchange some looks. “Let me help. It doesn’t have to mean I’m a part of the pack or that you’ve accepted me or anything like that. It just means I can help catch this girl.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes but Stiles didn’t make the same efforts. Scott, on the other hand, was actually thinking it over. 

“Scott,” Theo pushed. “I can help you.” 

“Scott, you can’t seriously be considering this,” Stiles said. 

“Guys, whatever we’re doing, we need to do it now,” you said. “Tracy isn’t in control and Malia is … a wildcard, okay? We need to go.”

“She’s right,” Scott said. It sounded like he was still in pain. “We need to go. Now.”

Stiles got to the station as fast as he could, but you still felt like it wasn’t fast enough. Scott led you guys through the already ajar door to the bullpen. All the blood inside sucker-punched you. The lights were out and deputies were strewn across the office space. Scott rushed to where Clark was checking on Noah and Stiles and Theo rushed to the office where Lydia and Kira were. For a moment there was too much happening for you to think. 

Then something clicked and your legs started moving for you.

When you got to the basement, Malia was standing over Tracy’s body and you had her up against the wall in an instant, one arm digging into her neck and your other hand pinning her down. 

“It wasn’t me!” Malia wasn’t even trying to fight back. “Y/N, I didn’t kill her.” 

You pushed forward reflexively before letting go and letting out a frustrated breath. “Then what the hell happened?” 

You knelt down to check if there was anything you could do for Tracy, if there was any hope that you could save her. She was still warm, but her heart wasn’t beating and she wasn’t breathing. Mercury was on her lips.

“There were these people-” Malia sounded confused, like this was something that happened years ago instead of seconds. The others came rushing in while she was trying to think of the words. “They had masks. Um, there- there were three of them. I think there were three.” 

She thought there were three? Malia seemed too distraught to be lying, but you honestly weren’t sure anymore. 

All you were sure about was Tracy lying dead on the floor, scales on one side of her face and claws on her hands. She should have started changing back like the wolves did.

“She’s not changing back,” Deaton said, coming to the same conclusion you did. “We need to get her out of here.” 

“What- Hey, absolutely not,” Noah said as he came closer. “This is a crime scene. We wait for the coroner.” 

“I think the coroner might be very confused by this girl’s severed reptilian tail,” Deaton said.

“I don’t care.” 

“You should,” Deaton said. “Unless you’re prepared to hold a press conference announcing the presence of supernatural creatures in Beacon Hills.” 

“Dad, he’s right,” Stiles said. 

“Maybe at the clinic we can figure out how to change her back,” Scott said. “Then we call the coroner?” 

“There is a line- There’s a line that we have to draw,” Noah said, shaking his head.

“Dad, you’ve already crossed it,” Stiles said. “More than once.”

Deaton tried again and between him and Stiles, something got through to Noah. He said you could take Tracy. Scott scooped her up in an instant and Stiles took your hand in his as you rushed out behind him.

You didn't want to leave Tracy again, but she was dead and Lydia was dying. Lydia would always come first. The five of you got to the hospital as soon as you could, but Lydia was already in surgery. Kira made sure that your mom knew that Lydia had been cut by Tracy’s tail, but then it was just the waiting. And Malia bringing up the men in masks again. Who may or may not have been made up.

Eventually, any chance of you being able to see Lydia passed and you all went home for the night. 

Stiles wanted to add the day’s event to his conspiracy board the instant you got back home, but you dragged him to the bathroom to clean up that cut on his chest. All you needed was for him to get a chest infection on top of all this. He took off his shirt while you dug around for the first aid kit. 

“Honestly, it’s not that bad,” Stiles said as you turned around. “Your boy Lahey’s done way worse … Hey, what are you- what’s that look for?” 

You knelt down in front of him, hand touching his stomach lightly. There was a scar nestled between two birthmarks, long and thin, only an inch or two long and jagged at the sides. The kind of scar you get when someone stabs you.  

“Oh,” Stiles said softly. “You know that’s not your fault, right?” 

“I never actually said sorry for that.” Your thumb traced the pale line. “I’m really sorry, Stiles. For all of it.” 

He gave you a sad smile and covered your hand with his. He lifted it to his lips and pressed a small kiss to it. “I know.”

“How about we get you cleaned up, huh?” you asked. 

You disinfected the wound and put a bandage over it, to which Stiles told you you were being dramatic and you told him to take it up with management. The two of you fell into your familiar routine of getting ready for bed to get some sleep in before Melissa came to get you on her way home from work. Every night you hoped she’d forget and you could just stay here. 

“Hey, you still awake?” Stiles whispered after half an hour of lying in the dark together. 

You rolled over so you were facing him, almost nose to nose, and searched for his hands under the covers. “I might be.” 

“I can’t stop thinking about what happened today,” Stiles said. He lifted his hand to the side of your face and ran it through your hair. “I don’t know what happened.”

“I know. Tracy and Malia …” You sighed and shifted around where you lay. “It’s crazy. That thing about men in masks? I don’t think she killed her but-” 

“Hey, we had demons in masks trying to kill me like a year ago,” Stiles said. “I guess crazier things have happened.” 

“I guess,” you said softly. “I have a feeling this is only the start of it though.” 

“Yeah, me too.” 

Stiles moved closer and kissed your forehead. He cradled your head and you moved in closer. You fell asleep like that, tangled up and addled with too many thoughts in your head, but at least you felt safe for the first time all day.

Part 34

Tagged: @ietss​

[taliasburns]

POSIE / HIZZIE HIGHSCHOOL AU (NO POWERS)

i promised this like ages ago so pls dont hate me but heres 2k of me writing yet another semi fic that started out as headcanons and ended up with me writing a story. (also you can pry cheer captain! penelope park from my cold dead hands) (a huge thanks to @posh-with-2-fields for helping me write this)

hope: big ass loner in school but last year she punched rafael waithe in the face after he harassed a girl (the girl was lizzie Saltzman, whom she is completely in love with) so everyone admires her (the guys are kinda scared of her)

josie: the quiet saltzman twin, really fucking smart. she’s in the school like orchestra thing (school band??) and she plays piano. she also plays in the  field hockey team with her twin. (she wants to focus on her music but she’s afraid of what lizzie will say)

penelope park: ur perfect hbic, captain of the cheer squad. super smart and openly gay. (she’s a fucking rebel, can tear you down with her words and all the girls wanna get in her pants)

lizzie saltzman: hbic 2.0, captain of the field hockey team. secretly in love with hope ever since the girl punched raf in the face when he was harassing her in the locker room. she just admires hope from afar bc she’s afraid her reputation will fall if she were to ask hope out

then they have to do a group project (with a partner). Lizzie gets paired with hope and josie gets paired with penelope

lizzie and hope work on the project in the twins room. Lizzie told josie to go to penelope’s dorm (“josie don’t you dare fall for her charms”)

(people say penelope is a player and people know her as a player (surprise surprise shes not)

So, lizzie being completely in love with hope (but still denying it) keeps accidentally flirting with hope and hope being the useless gay she is gets completely flustered whenever she does it. (lizzie keeps touching her and she CANT DEAL WITH THE SOFT TOUCHES)

Penelope and josie meet up to work on the project on days penelope doesn’t have cheer practice (josie loves how seriously she takes being captain, on Fridays she has practice early so they can still work on their project and penelope always tells her how proud she is of the girls on her squad)

(josie is slowly finding out penelope is definitely not the heartless bitch lizzie describes her as) (maybe she is slowly falling for the charm that is penelope park) (maybe she’s okay with that)

on the days penelope has cheer practice she has to walk by the music room to get to her dorm. Since two weeks ago there has been a girl in there playing piano and singing. (penelope first heard her two weeks ago, now she sits against the door every Monday and Wednesday listening to this girl play and sing)

she doesn’t know who the girl is. (the girl locks the door behind her (yes penelope tried to open it once) she might be falling in love with her voice (she tries to find that voice every school day (shes afraid she’ll never find the girl).

At the same time penelope starts to fall for josie Saltzman. Her soft smiles, her willingness to help other people, her terrible jokes (she tells josie they’re terrible, she loves them). She asks pedro (the kid she tutors) if it’s possible to fall for 2 people at the same time.

While they’re working on the project hope and lizzie get to know each other and grow closer. Lizzie tells hope how much she hates the fact that her mom and dad are always travelling, that they never have time for her and josie.  Hope shows lizzie the painting she made of her dad (he died 7 years ago, hope still misses him more than anything)

Hope loves how she and lizzie have become friends (it still stings when lizzie treats her as a mere acquaintance when in the presence of her friends, she tells herself that having a friendship behind closed doors is enough (it’s not)

3 days before they have to present the project to their class penelope’s roommate decides to invite her boyfriend over. Josie and penelope cant use the twins dorm either because hope and lizzie are working on their project in there so josie suggests they use the music room. She tells penelope she has a key to that room so she can practice during after school hours. (when josie sits down at the piano and starts playing a quick tune penelope recognizes the song as the same one she heard mystery piano girl play yesterday)

That is the moment penelope park realizes two girls shes falling in love with (the one with the beautiful voice and the one with the soft smiles and terrible jokes) are actually the same girl.

Back at the twins dorm hope and lizzie are sitting on lizzies bed joking around (they finished the project like 3 hours ago)

After a joke hope makes she falls into lizzie and when she looks up lizzie’s face is suddenly very close to hers, she decides to just go for it and kisses lizzie (who is she kidding she has been trying to pick up the courage to kiss lizzie for years (she has been a bit in love with the girl ever since she first saw her at freshman year)

Lizzie kisses back for a few seconds before she suddenly rips herself away and jumps from the bed. And asks hope what the hell shes doing.

Hope is like... i thought you would be okay with this. Lizzie tells her she would never want to date a girl or kiss a girl let alone hope of all people (2 seconds after she says this she hates herself for saying it, it may have something to do with absolute broken look on hopes face)

Hope’s still standing in her room and lizzie doesn’t know what to do (she’s afraid shell break down crying if hope doesn’t leave soon)

Hope is starting to walk towards her so she yells out get the fuck away from me mikaelson (she hasn’t called hope “mikaelson” in weeks, it sounds foreign on her tongue, she hates it)

After hope basically runs out of the door she collapses on her bed silently crying. After a few minutes she hears the telltale sound of josies laugh coming down from the hallway (her heart hurts knowing josie found her person, that she dares to be open about who she loves) she doesn’t want to take her sisters happy moment away so she pretends to be asleep

The following days leading up to the presentation hope somehow manages to avoid every type of interaction with lizzie (one time she literally jumps out of a window to avoid being in the same room as lizzie)

Lizzie tells herself its fine, she tells herself her reputation would have been ruined (she’s not fine, her eyes automatically look for hope in every room and she misses her more than anything)

On the day of the presentation  hope walks into the classroom. Lizzie thinks her heart might have skipped a beat (maybe even 3).

Penelope’s and josies presentation is flawless. (lizzie feels a pang when she sees the absolute adoration in both penelopes and josies eyes, she glances at hope, the girl is pointedly staring at the board)

Lizzies and hopes presentation goes off without a hitch, still lizzie feels like her stomach is filled with lead (this may have something to do with hope avoiding all eye contact and her walking out of the classroom the moment the class is over)

After class penelope walks up to josie, building up the courage to finally ask the girl out (at first josie doesn’t understand, “but pen, the project is over, you don’t have to hang out with me if you don’t want to”)

After that penelope just blurts out she wants to take josie out on a date (josie blushes profusely and stammers out a yes). Penelope secretly does a tiny fist pump (josie totally sees it)

They have their first date in the music room (but josie, babe, for me this is the place where it all started) and penelope kisses josie right after josie finishes the song she played when penelope first heard her (you sat here all these days and i had no idea!!)

Its a week after the presentations and hope is still not talking to lizzie (lizzie is starting to doubt if her reputation is worth all this pain) (people are starting to notice her staring at hope all the time too, shes not even sure if that bothers her anymore)

It all comes to head when penelope asks her about hope. (ever since penelope got paired up with josie their relationship has been less strained, now that pen is dating josie they even consider themselves friends)

Lizzie breaks down (penelope freaks out at first and texts josie to come to the twins dorm a s a p) and eventually lizzie tells josie and penelope everything. About hope, about having fallen for the girl, about them growing closer, about hope kissing her. And about lizzie freaking out, being afraid of her reputation falling, and pushing hope away so far shes afraid shell never get the girl back.

Josie tries to talk to her but eventually it’s penelope’s words that stick with lizzie (honestly liz, reputation isn’t important, in 10 years everyone will forget about who you were in high school, especially all these other “popular bitches”, the people who stay with you are the important ones, hope is one of those people)

After this lizzie starts to actually be herself, not the version she wanted to be to stay popular. She sits with penelope and josie (usually mg, kaleb, jed, and landon join)

When one of the players from the football team asks her out during lunch break she finds herself saying no. When he asks why she tells him shes in love with someone else and that this girl is so much better than him. (lizzie later realizes that she basically came out to the whole school, in the moment itself, all she saw was hope mikaelson staring at her from across the room)

A week later Rafael waithe again manages to corner her in the locker room (taunting her about the fact that a date with him will get her straight again)

He starts walking towards her but before he can set 3 steps someone steps in front of him and punches him in the face (lizzie knows its hope, she’d recognize her anywhere)

After Rafael walks away (once again with a broken nose) hope asks her if shes okay (hope is talking to her and lizzie has never been more okay)

Hope starts to walk away (im glad you’re okay lizzie)

Before she can do that lizzie grabs her hand, spins her around and kisses her. Hope stands still for a full 2 seconds (lizzie starts to back away thinking she made a mistake, that she truly went too far, that hope will never forgive her) before she grabs lizzie and smashes their lips together

When they finally catch their breaths (hope has lizzie pinned against the lockers) hope asks her what changed.

Lizzie just tells her she changed (and that someone made her realize hope is worth so much more than a freaking reputation and girls she doesn’t even want to be friends with) (she also tells her shes so sorry for the way she treated hope, that she wont ever forgive herself for doing that)

Hope just smiles and kisses her again (they stay in the locker room so long the janitor has to pull them out of it)

3 weeks later penelope walks away from her cheer practice with lizzie (who just finished her own practice) when they walk through the school they hear music coming from the music room. When penelope opens the door they find josie and hope sitting by the piano. Josie is trying to learn hope a song (even though hope sucks at playing piano)

They both look up at the same time seeing their girlfriends (softly smiling at them from the door opening, wondering how they got so lucky)

[thenickelportrust]

How would the ROs react to MC accidentally saying "Bye, I love you" before they get together/admit to having feelings for each other

Finley: Finley glances up, their mouth open ever so slightly- whatever it was they were going to say before has suddenly left them. It’s all they can do to stare at the reporter’s back as they left, trying to figure out whether or not they really heard what they thought they did. Only once the door closes do they realize that they’d been sitting there, staring dumbly at the space that was left.

They fold their hands in front of their face, pressing their knuckles to their nose as they take a deep breath- they hadn’t… they hadn’t misheard, had they? No, there was no way they’d misheard but that-

Well, it was said so quickly, so unthinkingly. They probably didn’t even realize they were speaking to Finley. So it… it meant nothing- right? Right. It probably didn’t mean anything. If it did then they’d tell Finley… right? Right.

They try to look back at the papers on their desk, but suddenly all the words feel so much more difficult to focus on.

Raf:

Ex!Raf: “I love you, too,”

It was such a natural response- almost habitual, and he couldn’t have stopped it if he even tried. But he didn’t- why would he? It was true, and he had never even tried to deny it to himself, it was true. It had always been true. But he hadn’t expected to say it so soon again, and from the look on their face, they hadn’t expected to say the same.

Now both of them have stopped, staring at one another, and what was once a simple goodbye has brought the day to grinding halt. They… He could see their mouth open and close, and Raf flickered his eyes away- suddenly it was far too hard to look them in the eyes. His face is burning- and no matter how much he wants to keep the redness away he knows that his face must be a bright, flushed red. “I’m sorry- I shouldn’t have-”

“Do you mean it?”

Raf clenches his teeth, he doesn’t dare to look at their expression because he knows- he just knows that he’d break the moment he does.

But they aren’t having that- and he can see their hand reaching out to his side- he winces away, and slowly they retreat- but that- that hurts so much more than anything else- why did he- fuck- he fucked it up again.

“I’m sorry- I didn’t mean to-” All words seem useless when he catches a glance at their face again, hopeful and sad and- he made them sad again, didn’t he? Damn it. Damn it.

“Didn’t mean to say you loved me?”

“No! No, I-!” Raf swallows heavily, “I never… I never stopped loving you, I still do- I love you. I do. I love you but I… I don’t… After all we’ve been through I can’t possibly expect that you’d really- that you’d want to hear that let alone that you might…” None of this sounds right, does it? He sucks in a deep breath, letting it seep out from between his teeth as he drags a hand through his hair, “I can’t possibly assume or even think to assume what you must feel after everything-”

“Then stop.” This time, he doesn’t flinch away when they slip their fingers over his cheek, “Stop assuming that I don’t love you. Because I do. I love you.”

Non-Ex!Raf: He breathes in so quickly that he nearly chokes on his own air. Staring at the empty space that they leave when they go and wondering if they even really heard themself. Wait- he didn’t say I love you too? He was so caught off guard but should he have said it- are they going to think he doesn’t love them? He does! He’ll have to- to say it as soon as they get home but- what if they don’t know what they said…

Even so… They said they love him. Even if they didn’t realize it they really…

Raf doesn’t even bother to try and stop himself from grinning- the kind of smile that probably won’t be going away until after they come home.

Jacob: “I love y- wait!” Jacob’s head snaps up, and the reporter stops, one hand on the doorway when he calls out. There’s confusion etched across his face- no sign that he has any idea what he just said- or what Jacob almost said in return.

“I really don’t have time to wait, Jacob, I’m in a rush and I’m already late but- what is it?”

Jacob bites the inside of his cheek- he tries to keep from grinning and laughing- half out of nervousness, and half out of a kind of fizzy happiness. If he could say it so casually, just… almost naturally. The thought made him feel almost fuzzy with happiness. “Nothing, nevermind.”

Still, if he wasn’t ready to really say it then Jacob wasn’t going to press the issue. Even as he ducks his head to hide his face, he knows that the reporter caught his grin. Even without his sharp eyes, Jacob has never been someone who can still his smile. “No… Not nothing- there’s definitely something or you wouldn’t be smiling like that.”

“Like what?” He risks a glance up again- but Jacob’s no longer able to look him in the face without feeling that stupid-happy grin stretch even further.

“Like that.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He declares plainly, “I’m just… happy.”

“Uh-huh,”

“I am! How can I not be? I’m with you, after all.”

At the very least, the extraordinarily cheesy line got him to forget whatever it was Jacob was smiling about before, simply rolling his eyes as he opened the door once again. “Alright, well, if that’s all then I do gotta go, so goodbye, Jacob.”

“Bye!” He waits until the door closes behind him, then, quietly, adding under his breath, “I love you, too.”

Lucy:

Ex!Lucy: Lucy didn’t say anything until they left, and by the time the door had closed she had snapped back into reality, standing up from her place with a “Wait!” tossed out into the now empty, open air.

Stunned and mentally cursing the fact that this- this is the one time she’s slow to act, Lucy plops back down.

When… when was the last time they said that? Four years, at the very least, it had been four years, and she- she didn’t even say I love you back.

No! She’s waited four years to hear them say that again and she’s damn well not gonna wait a moment longer to say it back. Swinging her legs over the side of her seat, Lucy sprints over to the window, flinging it open and sticking her head out the side- she can see their figure, they haven’t yet made it to their car. Lucy cups her hands around her mouth and yells their name.

She muffles a snicker when they jump, keys clattering onto the street. She grins, waiting until they’ve swiped them back up and turn, searching the street until they see Lucy leaning out the window, they give her a questioning look. Lucy cups her hands over her mouth again,

“I love you, too!”

Non-Ex!Lucy:  She probably doesn’t notice until a while after, it doesn’t stop her from calling back, “I love you, too!” With that same absent, natural inclination… But then later, after she’d said so she realizes exactly what it is both they and she said- and as soon as the MC gets home that day she’s going to wrap them up in the tightest hug they’ve ever felt from her- even if she won’t exactly say why.

Yolanda: Yolanda’s not really sure she heard right at first. Then, when she is sure that she really has heard what she did, she brushes it off. Tells herself that this isn’t the first time that someone’s expressed… more intense feelings for her. This is natural, this is normal, and there’s no need to get all uppity about it when this is something that happens all the time… But something feels… wrong, in that.

And Yolanda doesn’t like it when things feel wrong. But she doesn’t have the time to self-analyze, she tells herself, not now. Not here She has work to do.

And that comes first.

Eileen: Just as unthinkingly, she calls back a bright and cheery, “I love you, too!” She doesn’t realize what she says- not because she’s careless with her affection, but because it’s true. And perhaps she forgets that this is the first time she’s said so, but that’s because she already knows it’s true. She loves them, and saying so just feels… right.

Informant: He hears them, but he doesn’t comment on it. Perhaps, if you were to look back, you’d see a slight smile on his face, a blush spreading on his cheeks that not even the darkened sunglasses could hide. But he doesn’t say anything- now. He fully plans to tell them that he loves them too when they return- see if they notice, too.

He’s absolutely planning to mess with them.

Ricky:  Ricky freezes when he hears them say it. He turns to ask them about what it is they’ve just said, with their voice, and their mouth and their lungs expelling air to make those sounds, but he hesitates too long and by the time he looks back they’re already gone and he’s left churning those three, relatively simple and yet so utterly complex words around in his head.

He’ll need to sit down, all the while wondering- why did they say that? Why did they leave right after? Did they not mean it? They must not have, to say so so casually and then just go away. But if they said it without thinking… does that make it more genuine? Or does it mean that they don’t really care about it?

He won’t come to a conclusion, but he can’t bring himself to ask.

V: V stops the MC on their way out, “Oh, so you love me now, do you?”

They watch the MC’s reaction with a carefully coy grin, listening to them stumble and stutter for an answer before laughing as they drop their arm and let them go.

“That’s it?”

V casts a quirked brow over their shoulder, “What’s it?”

“You just… I just-”

“Well would you like to try again?” V rests their chin on their hand, “I’m not going to say anything back until you say it properly, to my face. And with all the passion those words should be said with.”

V’s grin tugs wider, “Even then, I think I’ll need to put something together first before I respond. I can’t be outdone now, can I?”

Erin: “You-” Erin stutters too long and the MC is gone by the time they’ve gotten half a word out. They.. were not expecting that. And whatever plans they had for the day are suddenly thrown into the street because the MC just told them that they love them and that’s… that’s…

That’s the most wonderful thing in the world.

[thenickelportrust]

OKAY SINCE YOU'RE WILLING TO INDULGE ME: what if the MC and the LI find themselves under the mistletoe and are very much about to uphold the tradition when someone ruins the moment

Indulgence, (ho-ho-)ho! (In other news I was severely tempted to make the person who interrupts each one of these V but then I realized I couldn’t write V’s without assigning a specific V and then having one of their siblings (aka basically another V) barge in. And sadly that would leave one V left out of the fun.)

Anyway, here you go! An extra-long holiday gift ask!

Side note: because these got so gosh darn long I just kinda put the Exes at a point in the relationship where it wouldn’t really matter whether or not they were your Ex.

Side side note: It’s under the cut to keep the post itself from flooding people immediately.

Finley: The office was fairly quiet. Most people had already left- taking an early start to their holiday break, buying last-minute gifts, or meeting family and friends at various parties. You’re just about getting ready to head out yourself, standing with arms crossed in front of the printer that slowly, and loudly, churns out page after page of your most-recent cover-piece draft. A quick little diddy that you whipped up on whatever new pop scandal you had to cover to keep your cover alive and well. You’ve avoided it up until now because someone had the bright idea to put some mistletoe above the printer, which has resulted in a lot of flustered coworkers laughing uncomfortably as they give some chaste, and somewhat unwilling, pecks on each other’s cheeks. Not willing to participate in this office-wide ritual of discomfort, you quietly procrastinated printing until everyone else left. Now that the office was quiet once more, there’s no one to awkwardly kiss- unless you wanted to try your luck with the printer.

But by its hissing and growling, it probably wouldn’t be all that keen on the idea.

Finally, the printer reluctantly spits out the last page. You gather your work up and turn to leave- but stumble back a bit as you nearly crash into someone entering.

“Oh, sorry I didn’t see- ah…” Finley backpedals to the doorway, their surprised expression softening into a smile when they see you. “It’s you, I didn’t think anyone was still around here…”

“Neither did I.” You admit, then with a quick nod up to the mistletoe, “You avoiding it, too?”

Finley nods once, “I swear, whoever had the bright idea to hang that thing up…” They sigh, “Say, I guess we both failed avoiding it. So…” Finley clears their throat, rubbing the back of their neck- are they- are they blushing? “If you want to get it over with then… Well, ah, I guess it’s custom to make it as awkward as possible, yeah? So which would you prefer- the awkward ‘we both try to kiss the cheek and end up head butting’, the ‘avoiding eye-contact as much as possible before a barely-pass-for-a-kiss on the forehead’ or…?”

“Never took you for one to keep custom, Finn.” You find yourself taking a step forward, the papers set aside atop the printer.

“Mmm, I’m surprised, after all I’ve such a reputation for being formal.” They also drift forward, your back and forth banter fading when their hands drift to your hip, and yours to their shoulders. As if in rebellion of the avoidance-based custom your gazes lock. You brush a strand of straw-colored hair away from their bright blue eyes. You can feel your heartbeat against your chest- you wonder if they can feel it too. You lean forward, your eyes close slowly- until the last thing you see is Finley’s bright blue eyes slowly fluttering closed as well and-

“Hey! Boss! I thought you’d left already!”

Both you and Finley jump- and you may or may not let out a somewhat undignified yelp out of shock. But the jury’s still out on that one, of course. You stumble back, grabbing your papers and holding them out in front of you like a shield. Finley doesn’t fare much better, whipping around so quickly that they nearly slip on the slick tiled floor and end up awkwardly balancing their weight on the old printer- hand landing on its top with a loud bang as they attempt to play it off with stiff casualty.

“Ah, you’re here too! The usual nightworkers, eh?” A coworker who you could’ve sworn had already left stands very much not-having-left with arms crossed over her chest as she grins towards the two of you. Your heart is still beating loudly. Can she hear it? Can Finley? No, no, that’s ridiculous. “I’m just ‘bout to head out, thought I heard something in here.” Her eyes flicker up to the mistletoe.

Please don’t- “Ah I see how it is… Got caught under the mistletoe- eh?” She wiggles her eyebrows conspiratorially. “Well, then I won’t interrupt- have fun you two!” She knocks on the side of the wood once, casting another sly smile your way before disappearing around the corner.

Both you and Finley seem to just… watch her leave with astounded expressions. At least you think so, you can’t really see their expression from here. “Finn-”

Finley’s laughing- you can barely hear it, just quiet chuckling that’s really only hinted at by the bouncing of their shoulders, they turn around to you, one hand digging up into their hair, brushing their messy bangs away from their forehead as they glance up at the mistletoe. “I swear, that thing is cursed.”

You can’t help but laugh a tiny bit as well, “Wouldn’t be that surprised, knowing the luck of this place.”

“Yeah, really. If there’s anywhere that ends up with cursed mistletoe…” They shove their hands into their pockets, Finley’s head shakes slowly, “It’s coming down as soon as I’m done here.”

“Just try not to invoke the wrath of some angry dead guy? That’s honestly the last thing we need.” You shuffle around the papers in your arms, “Well I- I guess I should… get going then…?”

“Ah…” Finley looks down, their face kept a careful blank, “Yeah, I suppose you’ve got… everything you need here.”

You make a noise that might stand in for an agreement, a sullen disappointment digging into your steadily slowing-back-down heart. Just as you pass them, however, a hand latches onto your arm. “Yea-” Your voice stutters to a halt when Finley leans over and quickly presses a kiss to your cheek.

“Happy holidays,” They whisper into your ear, “We should… find some time to celebrate it, together, when there’s not some fake plant hanging over us telling us what to do.”

You couldn’t keep the smile from your face if you tried, “I… I think I’d like that.”

Raf: “So what time did you say your sister was coming over for dinner?” Your currently perched atop a ladder- which on your own would most likely not result in any grievous injuries, but that still didn’t stop Raf from stopping his own helping with the decorations to wait carefully beside your, hands always up and hovering by your hip to make sure you don’t fall.

“According to Ash six o’ clock… which means anywhere between five and seven- ah, be careful!” You can’t help but smile when you see him tense at even the slightest wobbling of the ladder. Who would’ve thought hanging a bunch of lights could be so stressful for one person? You pull back your sleeve and check the watch on your wrist- it’s already five-ten, so with any luck she’ll stick to her proposed-time. There’s still a couple of things you want to put up.

“Is that it, then?” Raf asks hopefully, “At least for here?”

“Hmmm…” You lean back- which of course only makes Raf fidget a tiny bit more, “Not yet, there’s one other thing I want to put up here- think you could grab that tiny box over there? There’s something in it I want to put up right over the doorframe here.” You pat the empty space beside you.

Raf turns warily towards the box, he seems conflicted about leaving your side. You can’t help the wistful sigh- though to be entirely fair you’d be worried if Raf wasn’t so paranoid about even something small like this. You fight a smile from your face, “I’m not gonna fall.” And ultimately fail.

“S-sorry, I know I’m…” Raf backs away, smiling bashfully as he scratches the back of his head- though he still eyes the ladder warily, “I’ll go and get the- uh, the box.” Raf quickly scurries over to where you’ve piled the majority of the decorations in one big culmination of holiday enthusiasm. You sit back on the top rung of the ladder, hands folded underneath your chin as you watch him dig around. The dim, warm light falling around the house from the candles and few lights you’ve left on, the soft music drifting over the air from the speaker that for some unknown reason was so complicated it took the both of you puzzling over it for a solid half hour, and the smell- Raf must have made enough for six people set out on the kitchen and it all smells amazing. Everything is so… quiet. It’s nice. You so rarely get to use those words together nowadays. ‘Quiet’ and ‘nice’.

“This one?” Raf holds up the tiny red box containing something you bought on a silly little whim.

“Yep! That one!” You’re not even really sure what made you buy it.

“Here you go.” Well, no, that’s a lie. You know exactly why you bought it. Raf places one hand against the ladder, glancing up at the red-wrapped box curiously, “What is it, anyway?”

“Oh, just something small.” You pop the top off, you hold it up and let the tiny waxy leaves and little white berries glint with the soft orange glow of the room lights.

“That’s…” Raf trails off, watching you carefully as you stretch over above the doorframe, tying the red ribbon into the string you used to hand the rest of the decorations on. Leaning back, you pause for a moment to admire your handiwork.

“Happy holidays, Raf.” You scoot down a few steps on the ladder and turn towards him- and he’s wearing a grin as big as your own.

“You are… unbelievable.” Raf lowers his head as he laughs, “In all the best ways.”

“And…?”

“And?” You nod to the mistletoe now hanging almost directly above his head. Raf’s eyes crinkle in another smile, “And, apparently, impatient.”

“Hey, now!”

Raf just reaches up, his hands cupping your face, you lean in towards him- arms looping around his neck-

“Happy goddamn holidays, everyone!” The door slams open- a foot kicking its way through- the door hits the side of the wall with ferocity. Apparently more ferocity than it’s assailant intended, as a quick, “Oops!” follows up the loud slamming noise.

And then you, shocked by the sudden noise and in a desperate attempt to scramble back all the while forgetting that you, still, on the ladder, end up kicking the ladder aside and crashing to the ground. Raf, who was no longer expecting you to fall, yelps as well, trying half to catch your fall and half to break it- which all only ends up with the two of you slamming against the floor with the ladder crashing along beside you.

Another, albeit much more quiet, much more apologetic “Oops…?” floats up from the front doorway.

“Are you… alright…?” Raf groans from beneath you, one of his hands presses against his eye.

Your head aches, your knee hurts, and you think you landed at least partially on your funny bone, “I’m great. How about you?”

“I’m good if you’re good.” He smiles- and immediately winces once more.

“No- you’re not.” You gingerly press against his hand, “Let me see- what happened?”

“It’s fine.”

“Raf.”

“You, uh, might’ve landed on my eye, though.” You finally get him to move his hand away- the beginnings of a purple bruise painting the skin around the closed eyelid. “Nothing too bad, though.”

“Raf!”

“I’ll go get some ice!” You see a blur of black hair dart to the kitchen. You quickly pick yourself up off of the ground, helping Raf up as well. Almost as soon as your up, a bag of ice is shoved towards the two of you- Ayesha smiling sheepishly.

“Uh, sorry, this is my fault, isn’t it? You left your front door open so I thought I’d surprise the two of you but, uh- that didn’t work very well, did it?” She laughs uncomfortably.

“It’s not your fault, Ash, you’re fine.” Raf reassures her, gratefully taking the bag of ice and pressing it to his eye, “We… probably should’ve put the ladder away first.”

“Right… well, happy holidays! I, um, I have more gifts than just a black eye, by the way.” Ayesha gestures to the door, backpedaling quickly, “I was gonna wait till I left to give them to you guys but, uh, maybe I should do that… now…” And with that, she rushes out the door in a hurry once more.

“The mistletoe was a bad idea.” You mumble quietly.

“The mistletoe was sweet- is sweet.” Raf corrects, somehow still smiling, “It was the kiss from a ladder that was the bad idea.”

“Seemed romantic at the time.”

“So does a kiss from a sinking boat, or in front of an active volcano,” Raf points out, “Doesn’t mean they’re good ideas.”

“Hmmm… good ideas there…”

“… I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“I’m just playing with you.” You nudge his side, “Besides, we don’t need any of that to make it romantic.”

“You’re right. As long as you’re here, it’s always romantic.”

You can’t help but laugh a little bit as he gives you that sappy-sweet smile all the while pressing the ice to his injured eye, “Even when I’m unceremoniously injuring you while trying to give you a kiss?”

Raf only grins wider, “Well, less so then than other times but… yes, even then.”

Jacob: It’s not a very comforting thought when you remember that the man walking through the cold winter snow coming home late from work on the holidays usually ends up being the unlikeable main character for the first half of any holiday special. But here you are, the busy businessman who didn’t mean to but somehow ended up missing holiday dinner with your loved one now trudging home through the ice and snow entirely miserable- and not just because the car finally gave up and died somewhere on the road back, not just because your pants are soaked through and your legs are chilled to the bone, but because you know from how excited Jacob had sounded before that he’d been planning something special for tonight and you had to cancel. It wasn’t even a life-or-death, hero-crashing-into-the-side-of-your-office exciting cancel either. But that the printer called and there was a mishap and you were required to spend an extra two hours tucked away in a space two sizes too small for even the shortest of your emergency-maintenance group that smelled of burning ink, paper, and rubber.

Some start to the holidays.

No doubt Jacob was already asleep. You didn’t even get a chance to call and explain, just send off a quick text saying you might not make it- and what kind of good boyfriend sends ‘might’ in that kind of context anyway?

With some slight resentment making you even cold enough to compete with the wintry chill, you throw open the doors to the apartment building, trudging up the steps as pinpricks tickle the edges of your fingers while they slowly regain feeling in the artificially-heated building. They don’t regain full mobility, however, by the time you reach the front door, which leaves you fumbling awkwardly with the keys trying to get the apartment door to open without making a complete fool of yourself.

Luckily, the door spares you the chance, instead it whips open before you even manage to put the key in the lock. Jacob stands on the other side, his eyes wide- hair wild and messy like he’d been asleep, which he probably was.

“Jacob I-” You think up a million and one ways to phrase your sudden absence on your planned day together that might deflect his anger. But you get to say exactly none of them as Jacob’s face splits into a grin, and he wraps you up in a large, warm embrace- practically tugging you into the apartment.

“You’re back! You didn’t come back and I was starting to get worried! I stayed up- er, I tried to stay up, I ended up passing out on the couch but I wanted to stay up! What happened? I got your text but it seemed so rushed I thought something had gone wrong but then you didn’t send anything else and you weren’t there so I got worried that maybe it was something serious that happened and- you smell bad you know that? You smell like… rubber- was there a fire? Are you alright? You didn’t get burned did you-”

“Woah- woah! Slow down.” Jacob backs away- just enough to look at you, his hands still gripping the sides of your snow-soaked clothes. Clothes… He’s still wearing his day-clothes. He didn’t even change, just… waited for you? “There wasn’t any fire- but the printing machine almost exploded.”

“Exploded…?”

“It’s been a ticking time bomb for years.” You shrug, “I’m… I’m sorry. That’s no excuse, I should’ve- I should’ve called or something or… I just thought you’d be asleep but I guess…”

“Oh- oh, no! It’s fine! You’re fine!” Jacob is quick to reassure you, shaking his head rapidly, “I mean- I was worried, of course, but you’re back! And… you’re really cold.”

“Uh, yeah, my car kinda… died.” You don’t really know why you laugh, to dispel the lingering feeling of guilt? To break the silence? Either way it ends in an awkward clearing of the throat. “I think I should probably get changed.”

“Ah- right!” Jacob releases you from his embrace- and part of you regrets saying that. The warmth and familiar comfort of his arms around you was… nice. Perhaps the first nice thing you’ve really had today. “You go get changed. I can- uh…” He looks down, eyebrows furrowing in thought, “Ah!” He claps his hands together, “There���s some extra blankets Iaying around here somewhere! I’ll grab them!”

“You don’t have t-” But he’s off, already tearing one from the couch and scouring around the apartment.

With the bedroom door half-closed behind you to give some semblance of privacy as you switch into a much drier, much less rubber-smelling, and much more warm pair of pajamas, you can still hear Jacob dancing around the livingroom looking for blankets. Even if you didn’t want to laugh to yourself you don’t really think you could hold it back. Old clothes discarded for now, you can see Jacob through the slim crack of the door that leaks light through- piles of cloth spilling over his arms. You’re about to go over and call out to him that he can stop when you spot something dangling over the door, nearly imperceptible in the low light. Is that…

Is that mistletoe?

You swing open the door to get a better look at it- yes, there’s no doubt about it- that’s mistletoe. Jacob put some mistletoe over the door.

“Ah, good! You changed!” Jacob skids to a halt in front of you, “I don’t think there’s any more than this- and some might not be very warm but I got all the ones I could so I think these might help some…? Uh,” He tilts his head, brows furrowing when you don’t respond. He follows your gaze, “Oh! Oh that,” Jacob laughs, he shuffles around the blankets in his arms, turning his reddening face away. “Uh, I saw it earlier today. I dunno, I just- uh- well, it’s a holiday thing, yeah? And I mean, it’s supposed to be romantic, and I’m not really the best at being romantic- or decorating- and especially not romantic decorating- but I guess I thought it might be nice? Somewhat. Is it too cheesy? It’s probably too cheesy. I can take it down. In fact, let me just put these down and I’ll take it down right now.” He marches past you.

“Jacob.”

“Hm?” Jacob turns to you, dumping the blankets on the bed.

“You didn’t kiss me.”

“I- uh- I’m sorry?”

You stifle a snicker, and point up to the mistletoe. “Aren’t you supposed to kiss me?”

He brightens visibly, “I mean, I guess so.” You can see him trying to play it off with a shrug, but his eyes spark with a kind of jovial energy. “If you want.”

You welcome the return of his warm embrace, already feeling the warmth of him chase away the chill that lingers on your skin. Jacob falls silent, he reaches towards your face, hands cradling your chin, brushing along the line of your jaw- brushing off the outside cold, “I’m… glad you’re home.”

“Me too.” The tension that had been propping up your shoulders clattering away with one long sigh. You close your eyes, pull him a little closer and-

And then the phone starts ringing.

And instead of a sweet, romantic holiday kiss you’re left breathing out an irritated, sighing-hiss of “Oh for the love of-,” You peak around Jacob’s shoulder- and it’s work. Of course the number is work.

“Do you, um, do you want to get that?” Jacob shuffles his feet, hands already slipping off of your face.

“You know what? No.” You reach up and grab his hands. “Ignore it. It’s not important.”

“Are you sure…? I don’t want you to get in trouble because-”

“I’m sure.” You shake your hand, grip loosening enough just to shift your fingers through his, “I don’t care how important it might be. It’s not as as important as this. As you.”

“Oh.” Jacob clears his throat, “Oh, well, uh… Ditto…?” Jacob laughs, and buries his head in your chest, “Oh god. I’m not good at coming up with romantic lines.”

“Mm, guess I just need to pick up the pace for both of us, then.” You nudge his head away, “And Jacob? You still haven’t kissed me yet.”

At least those angry businessmen in holiday movies always end happy. Perhaps… it’s not so bad to be one of those, after all, then.

Lucy: There are many things to expect when you come home for the holidays. Lights, sure, maybe even some candles or a tree or candycane-themed decorations or perhaps anything that glows brightly and has some sort of festive spirit about you. Normally, though, these decorations are set up on the walls or inside the house.

Normally you do not walk into your home to find Lucy struggling against a string of fake holly leaves, half pulled up along the walls and the other half somehow wrapped around the majority of her arms, neck, and torso.

“What the-?”

“Oh- you’re back!” Her head pops up towards you, only to be jerked back once more from where her long hair has gotten wrapped up in the fake leaves. “Would you, uh, mind helpin’ me out? I was trying to get these untangled but I was ‘fraid I would break them if I just tugged so I was trying to be gentle but…”

“Didn’t work according to plan?”

“You could say that.” She shrugs, then swings her arms out to the side- or about as much as she can, what with them currently occupied by the vine. “But, hey! Least I’m getting into the holiday spirit, y’know?”

You stifle a laugh as you walk over to her, examining the twisted tangles of the string, “Yeah, and from the looks of it the hard part is going to be getting you out of it… How did you even manage this?”

“Determination and perseverance, mostly.” Lucy waits patiently… Or at least what her version of patiently is, with a constantly tapping forth, occasional shifting of the feet, and overall shuffling around making it considerably more difficult for your to find the key to freeing your girlfriend from this predicament she’s gotten herself into.

It’s insane. The loops and twists and tangles remind you of the kind of rollercoaster torture device a B-movie horror film’s villain would use to try and kill off the protagonists. There’s just no way to get it undone. “I think we have to break it.”

Lucy’s expression shatters. “You sure?”

“I mean, unless you want to spend the rest of your life as a holiday lamppost… then, yeah, I think we have to cut this off of you… got any scissors?”

“In the box.” She nudges her head- perhaps the most mobile thing about her- towards a pile of holiday ornaments and decorations- most of which are covered with several layers of dust and you think that snowman is missing one of his button eyes. There’s so much here- handmade decorations, store-bought, some of them even still have the price tags attached. Somewhere in the jungle of festivities you find the scissors and return to Lucy.

You set to work freeing her from the twist of the light-vines. “What’s all this for, anyway?”

“Ah, y’know…” Lucy shrugs, “I though it’d be fun.”

“Cutting you out of fake leaves is supposed to be fun?”

She rolls her eyes, “Not this part. But… Well…” You snip the last cord, and the leaves fall away- or those that don’t are quickly tossed aside by Lucy as she steps away from the offending vine, giving it one last dirty look. “I mean, I just thought that it’d be fun to have a… normal-ish holiday. With everything else that’s constantly going on and how we’re both always bouncing from thing to thing I thought it might be… nice to take it slow?”

You can barely believe what you’re hearing. “Wait- you’re telling me that Lucille Pinchette wants to take something slow?”

Lucy laughs and runs a hand through her hair, “I mean- Maybe? I dunno, not really slow-slow in all that weird… gather round the tree and sing cult-songs kinda slow, but just…” She sighs, then Lucy steps forward and wraps her arms around your waist, pulling you closer to her. “I wanted to spend some time, just the two of us, and the holidays seemed like a good excuse. So I guess I had to commit to the excuse.”

“You don’t need an excuse just to spend time together, Lucy.”

“I know,” She grins, “But I thought- ‘hey? Why not make it special? That’d be neat!’“

“It’s always spec-”

“Oh!” And then you’re perfectly romantic, beautiful, planned declaration was unceremoniously interrupted as Lucy releases you, sprinting towards the haphazard pile and digging through the holiday decorations with the kind of intense fervor only Lucy can manage to pull off, “Hold that thought!”

Lucy digs through the box, “Uh, Lucy?” she seems wholly intent on unearthing whatever it is she’s set out for- “Lucy…?” entirely having forgotten you in the process. Luckily, her distraction doesn’t last for two long, and soon Lucy shoots to her feet, presenting something proudly between her fingers with a loud,

“Aha!”

She marches up to you, hands folded carefully behind her back. “You know, the decorations might not have worked so well, but I think I have a good way to make this special either way…”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” You cross your arms Lucy’s confident grin growing as she strides towards you, her hands detangle, and she holds up something right above your head. You glance upwards- and between Lucy’s pinched fingertips is a small branch of fake mistletoe. “You bought… mistletoe?”

“Yeah! Make it special, right?” Lucy grins coyly, “‘Sides, now you gotta kiss me. No backing out of it.”

“Who ever said I was gonna back out of it?” You loops your arms around the back of her neck.

“Mmm, call it… insurance?” Lucy’s free arm settles back into place against the small of your back, the mistletoe slowly drifting downwards as she seems to forget that she’s holding it, leaning in towards you. You can feel her breath against your face- she smells like peppermint and other holiday store smells.

And of course to complete the moment Lucy’s phone starts ringing in her pocket. The bright and cheery tune shattering whatever romance had built up somewhere between de-tangling her and retrieving the mistletoe. Lucy groans, her eyes dancing up as she clutches the mistletoe with a closed fist. “Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me…” Your left with a sudden chill where her hand once was, eyeing it almost longingly as she fishes the phone from her pocket and checks the name of the rude interruptor.

“Who is it?” You don’t yet release her neck from the loop of your arms, reluctant to let ago once more.

“It’s… my boss.” Lucy sighs, “Probably a battle just ended and they need more people ASAP.”

“Oh…” Your fingers start to untangle, “Then I guess… you should go…?” Sliding off of her neck to her shoulders.

Lucy’s eyes flicker from the phone to you and back to the phone- that merry jingle playing once more on repeat, her lips pursed and her eyebrows scrunched together. She tosses the phone onto the couch, reaching up and grabbing your hands in her own, “You know what? Nah. Today’s the start of the holidays and I might not be able to make that very special but…” She smiles at you, “I guess everyday is special when it’s with you, eh?” Lucy blinks once, twice, then sighs defeatedly, “Wow, shit, that was… bad. Even for me that was really, really bad.”

“Yeah, it was.” You speak through a series of laughs, “But you know what? Had you not gone to get the mistletoe, I would’ve said the exact same thing.”

Lucy barks out one bright laugh as well, “Ha! You’re as bad as I am.”

“We make a good team for bad pickup lines.” Her phone finally stops ringing, her boss apparently giving up, “And failed attempts at romantic moments, apparently.”

“Now that,” Lucy’s grin is wide and lopsided, one eyebrow raised with it making her entire face look a little crooked, “We do.” She leans forward, pressing her cheek to yours, “And it’s absolutely perfect.”

Yolanda: You never really thought you’d start to get used to things like champagne, diamonds, and the kind of extravagant ball gowns a princess would consider a pipe-dream. But then again you never really thought you’d start dating Yolanda Waltz of all people.

Life is full of surprises.

You stand, shuffled off to the corner like with most events, with the only people who really ever approach you being those who either know why it is you’re here, at Chat Blanc’s exclusive holiday party, and think that they can somehow weasel some of Yolanda’s dirty little secrets out of her girlfriend… Or those who think you’re probably a part of the staff and want to be directed to where the bar is. Or ask you for a plate of some kind of food whose name you couldn’t even dream of pronouncing.

You had hoped to spend more time with Yolanda during the holiday but… Well, duty calls. “Oh, darling,” She’d said in that melancholic, sweet voice of hers one hand trailing down your cheek, “What I’d give to spend a quiet holiday with you… I promise- once this dreary routine is done we’ll have the rest of the weekend all to ourselves. Just you and me- no parties, no press, just us.”

‘Just us’…

Well, you hope so, at least. Because right now this is about as far from ‘Just us’ as the Earth is from the other side of the galaxy. Speaking of which, is just about how far away Yolanda seems to be from you right now.

You can still see her, it’s always hard to miss Yolanda in the crowd with the way her mere presence seems to dwarf them- and her height helps too, of course- but she’s on the other side of the room. A room filled to the brim, as per usual, with people in a myriad of expensively tailored suits and gowns. Granted, there’s less here today than normal- and you’d heard that the holiday party was even more exclusive than usual…

Can something get more exclusive than Chat Blanc to begin with? Apparently. But Nickelport’s vast and star-studded population more than makes up for the lack of invitations. Filling and perhaps even overfilling the room even with a third of the usual cat-cards sent around.

Which of course means that there’s about a hundred or two people between you and Yolanda. And the promise of ‘just us’ has taken to the sidelines along with you.

At the food is good and the alcohol is free. You turn the drink around in your hand- brightly colored as per usual, only now it’s a swirling mixture of green and red. All of the drinks around you have different holiday colors- blue and silver, red and green, black, red, and green, and many others. You hold it up to the light, peering at the small bubbles that drift between the drink-

“Enjoying the refreshments, darling?” And jump, nearly spilling the decorative liquid all over yourself. The corner of Yolanda’s lips twitch upward. But she still manages to keep that calm, serene face she wears during all of her parties. “Though I can confidently assure you that they taste much better than they look.”

“You’re here.”

Somehow, though, you’re rather blatant exclamation almost makes her break face. “Indeed I am.”

You can feel the heat rising to your face, “Right, yes, what I mean is- uh, why are you here?”

“Well, if you are referring to the party, I am the hostess. It would rather… improper for me not to show.” Her hand rises to your cheek, brushing a strand of hair away from your face, “However, if you’re asking why I’m here speaking to you, well… I’m surprised you have to ask. I would think it obvious that there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

You almost allow yourself to melt into her gentle touch- and boy do you wish you could. But the piercing glares of Yolanda’s scorned guests keep your nerves buzzing too much for that to happen. “Yeah, sure, but that doesn’t mean it’s where you should be.” You jerk your head away from her hand, nodding towards the whispering mass. Yolanda doesn’t bat an eye.

“I beg to differ.” Her fingers fall to your wrist, slipping her hand into yours she leans forward until her breath brushes against your ear- and in a low whisper, “Come with me.”

“But the-”

“They can wait.” You feel her smile stretch against your cheek, “I’d rather spend my time with someone more important.”

“Don’t tell them that,” You laugh, “I mean, geez, say that anyone is more important than them and half the egos here will probably implode.”

“If that what it takes to steal a moment with you then I would gladly announce it to the world.” Yolanda tugs on your wrist, already guiding you towards the door, “Now, come with me.”

The crowd parts as she walks. Yolanda doesn’t even have to extend an arm or speak up- it’s as if they sense some aura radiating off of her, pushing them carefully aside and leaving a wave of eyes trailing against your back. Some curious, some envious, and a few with almost angry stares. But none dare to step into her path as she guides you towards the door and into a dark hall.

You hear the door close behind you and then he world is shrouded in dark, “Yolanda?”

You’re answered by the flick of a switch, and suddenly the room is alight with starlight. No- not starlight, just a series of tiny light bulbs imbedded into the ceiling, the walls, there are even a few lighting up the floor beneath you- surrounding you in a pale, romantic glow that makes it feel as if you’re standing in the center of a wintry night sky, surrounded by a pearl necklace of stars. And there she is. Next to you, her hand resting on your hip, enthralled not by the glittering galaxy around you but by the surprise and delight on your face.

“How did- Why did- What-” Your mouth fails to make proper sentences… Granted, your brain is struggling with making them up right now as well.

“I promised you that you’d have me all to yourself after all is said and done,” Yolanda takes your hands, stepping in front you with concern warping her expression, “I must ask you to wait a little bit longer for me to truly keep up that promise but…” She steeles herself, chin raised defiantly, “I am still a woman of my word, and so I suppose I had… Well, I wanted to do something to show you that I had not forgotten our promise.”

“Well, this is one hell of a something.” You couldn’t stop yourself from grinning if you tried, “Yolanda this is- I don’t- I don’t even know how to say how amazing this is! I could kiss you for this.”

“I’d be honored… However there is one missing piece before you do that.” Yolanda gives your hands a squeeze, and then slips away quietly. She steps towards the door, producing something hidden by her hands that she hangs above the door frame. You trail after her quietly, trying to peak past Yolanda’s shoulders to see what it is she’s doing. But a coy smile and quiet ‘Not yet’ brush you back until she’s finished with… whatever it is she’s doing. Yolanda steps away moments later and there, dangling among these faux-stars is…

“Mistletoe?” The waxy green leaves catch and reflect the glittering light, and the tiny white berries almost blend in among its dazzling brethren.

“As grand as all this is I figured some… festive spirit might also be appreciated.” She takes your hands once more, “And as you know, I’m quite the stickler for tradition.”

“Hey, if this is tradition then I’m not about to complain.” Yolanda pulls you forward, her face comes closer to yours, your eyes flutter close until even the stars fade and you’re just left with-

The sound of a door slamming open and a surprised, meek squeak of, “Miss Wa-ah, oh, uh, um….”

You hear Yolanda sigh- her breath brushing against your cheek, the sweet smell of apple and lime drifting around you- so close, but so far. “Yes? What is it?” Yolanda leans back as your eyes reluctantly open. A shy and nervous waiter in the Chat Blanc uniform shuffles around in the doorway- the bright orange light of the ballroom washing away a few of the stars.

“Oh, well, I-I um,” They swallow nervously, “People were, uh, asking for you, s-so I came to see if if- uh… You were available, but…” Their eyes flicker over to you. “I can, uh, tell others that you’re otherwise… oc-occupied.”

“No, no. I shouldn’t be gone for too long.” Yolanda’s fingers slip away, she brushes out her dress and squares her shoulders, “Tell them I’ll be right there.”

“Yes ma’am!” The waiter seems all too eager to scurry away.

Yolanda turns to you once more, her calm façade breaking momentarily into a conflicted mix of regret and disappointment. “Soon, it will be just us, my darling.”

“Just us.”You repeat.

“Just us.” She presses a hand to your cheek, “Wait for me, and I will see you soon.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” You smile. “Just don’t be too long.”

“I couldn’t even if I wanted to.” She presses a kiss to your cheek, and then Yolanda slips away- casting you one last longing glance before the door closes and you’re left among the stars.

Eileen: You woke up to the smell of countless sweet goods floating through the room. Apples and chocolate danced around the ceiling while raspberry smells and cinnamon scents quietly wandered below. Delicately dancing among all these was a blueberry perfume and all were, of course, warm and inviting. So warm and inviting, in fact, that you could already feel your eyelids closing, those sweet odors lulling you back into a dream filled of cream puffs and pies. But the sunlight was already poking its thin yellow tendrils through the gap in the curtains, filling the room with a pale winter light. More than that you know that if the house smells like this then it must mean that Eileen’s been up for quite a while.

So you drag your feet from the bed and onto the soft carpet that squishes down beneath you. Slipping on a jacket but forgoing the clothes that would mean you’d really have to wake up you follow the trail of delicious smells down out the room, down the hall, and to the kitchen.

Eileen buzzes about, fluttering from stove-top to oven to counter with her hands shoved into mitts two sizes too big. She places one still-steaming pie next to another, which lies next to a tray of brownies, which is next to a platter of cookies which is… How much did she make? And how long has she been up?

“You know, I don’t think the apocalypse is starting anytime soon- isn’t it a little early to start stockpiling food?” You jest but you’re met with no reaction. In fact, Eileen seems not to hear you at all. Already going at a chocolate-chip laced batter with a whisk and the kind of ferocity that you can normally only find in the destructive aftermath of hero-villain battles on the street. “Eileen?”

You walk around to her side, but she still doesn’t see you- her green eyes zeroed in intently on the batter in her hands. In fact, there’s a bit of a purple bruise from lack-of-sleep underneath them, her red hair seems frayed and messy, with fly-away strands floating about her face- she looks paler than usual, too, the few freckles on her cheeks seem more pronounced now then before. “Eileen, are you alright?” You reach out- but when your fingers brush her arm she screams in surprise, jumping back and letting bowl and batter clatter to the floor, chocolate-chip dough scattering over the tile.

“It’s you!” She squeaks out, then grows red with embarrassment and clears her throat, “Sorry- I-I mean, it’s you. You… you scared me.” One hand presses to the space above her heart to emphasize this.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… but I called out.”

“You-you did?”

“Several times.”

“Oh… dear…” Eileen sighs, and looks forlornly at the batter on the floor. Her lower lip quivers as gloved hands squeeze together, the fabric warping and stretching over her knuckles. “I’m sorry- I guess I got so lost that I… I’m sorry.”

You step around the mess, gingerly resting your hand on her shoulder- Eileen’s head snaps up to you, but she doesn’t jump away this time. “Eileen, are you okay? What’s wrong?”

“Ah… It’s nothing, really.” She carefully, slowly, removes the gloves from her hands, smoothing down her shirt and fidgeting with her hair, tucking it behind her ear and then twisting it undone between her fingers. “I just- Well- I got to thinking about how this is our first holiday together- really together, I mean. And I- well, I was trying to think of some way to celebrate it and I couldn’t really think of anything so then I thought I’d bake you something special but then it wasn’t special enough so I had to try again, and again, and again, and…” She waves a hand towards the sweet-feast slowly piling up on the counter, “You can see how well that worked out.”

“You made all this… for me?”

She laughs, a nervous, tittering laugh, “I suppose it sounds rather silly when said aloud, doesn’t it?”

“Oh, Eileen.” You cup her face in your hands, and even with just that much she already seems so much more relaxed- leaning into your touch, a soft smile gracing her bright face. “You really didn’t have to do all of this- any of it really.”

“I know, I know… but… I wanted to.” She sets the gloves aside, gently removing your hands from her face, “You are… dearly important to me- and indescribably special. I just wanted to show you how much… but I guess I got a bit nervous that it couldn’t quite come up to my expectations.” She squeezes your hands, shrugging to herself, “But I should have expected that, really. Nothing I could make would ever really show just how much you mean to me- not really.”

“And nothing could ever be as sweet as you are.”

“You… You were waiting to use that line, weren’t you?”

You shrug with a grin, “Eh, maybe. Maybe not. We’ll never know.” Your eyes trail down the line of pies and cakes and cookies. Breathing in the mix of warm, familiar sugary scents. Your eyes inadvertently flutter closed, and when they open you glance at the ceiling- “Huh? When did that get there?”

“What is- oh.” Eileen laughs once more, “I got tired from baking, once, and ended up doing a little decorating, just some small things, like lights and wreaths and candles and-”

“Eileen, do you know what that is?” She follows your gaze upwards, eyebrows crinkling in confusion as her lower lip juts out in a pout.

“Hmm… no?”

“It’s mistletoe.”

Eileen’s head tilts to the side, mouth curving over the word slowly, “Mistle…toe…” Then a bright red flush takes over her cheeks as she tears her hands from yours, covering her mouth with a tiny, “Oh!”

“Hm? So you didn’t plan to get me under the mistletoe today?” You feign a wounded look, one hand over your chest as you sniff dramatically, “And here I thought you wanted to kiss me.”

“Shush, you.” Eileen lightly taps you on the arm. “So dramatic. I must have put that up there while decorating and not noticed but… I suppose now that it’s there we should kiss.”

“There’s simply no escaping it.” You agree, already moving your hands back to the sides of her face, pulling Eileen closer as her eyes close and you bend towards her. Surrounded by the sweet smells of the pies and the burning smell coming from the oven-

Both you and Eileen seem to realize that burning smell at the same time, she gasps and quickly tugs herself away, already slipping the gloves back on and whipping open the oven- which pours out black smoke. You back away, one hand to your nose, coughing, as Eileen pulls out a smoldering corpse of a cake, dropping it into the sink with a plunk and turning on the water faucet. You hurry to a window, throwing it open and watching the smoke trail out and dance up into the sky. You stick your head out of the window, taking a big gulp of air not-tainted by the smell of failed cake, and when you turn back around Eileen’s turned off the water, and the cake has become little more than a soggy, blackened mess.

“Well, now, that didn’t really work as planned.” You loop an arm around her shoulders, which bounce lightly as she laughs.

“Oh, it’s no matter.” Eileen grins up at you, “I think we’ve got enough cakes for now, anyway.”

Informant: Sometimes it’s nice to have a quiet holiday. The day passes by lazily- but not in ‘dragging its feet’ kind of slow, instead, it’s much of a sunny-day lethargy, like lounging on the beach with the sun’s slow slither across the sky as your only telltale sign of time. Granted, it was neither sunny nor were you at the beach. The snow had piled up outside trapping you within the house, and the warmth came not from the hot sand and sky but instead from a warm fire’s glow tickling your feet, the cup of hot chocolate clutched between your fingers, and the slow and steady rise of the Informant’s chest as you cuddle up against him in front of the fireplace.

You’d had plans to go out today, do something nice and holiday-themed… but the snow put a quick and sure stop to that. It wasn’t safe to drive and there was no way in hell either of you were about to go trudging through hip-deep snow drifts with flurries attacking your face when you had a perfectly serviceable cocoa and fire here. It also gave you the excuse to snuggle up with the Informant, his arm draped around your side and a blanket covering the both of you as you marathon holiday movies, occasionally breaking up the ‘joy and peace to all’ with your own odd observations about how surreal some of those movies can get. Or creepy. Some are very, very creepy. You’re not sure they meant to be but they are.

The Informant’s hand runs idle circles over your shoulder, tracing unseen lines. You feel your eyes growing heavy, your yawn brings tears to your eyes and blurs the movie in front of you into a mess of green, white, and blue colors.

“Hey,” The Informant’s fingers stop running lines around your shoulder, squeezing it lightly instead, “How about we turn this off and turn in early? Sound good?”

“Mm, but it’s not late enough for sleep yet.” You shake your head, “I guess the chocolate’s just getting to me, I’ll be fine.”

“Oh yeah?” The Informant’s lips quirk upwards in a crooked smile, “Then how come you’re about to spill it all over yourself and the couch?”

“What?” You look down, and sure enough your hands hand been drifting to the side, with the hot chocolate dangerously lapping the edge of the cup. You right it quickly, leaning forward and placing it on the much safer coffee table instead of in your apparently unstable hands. “Okay… point. But it’s still too nice here to leave.” You flop back against the Informant.

“You just don’t wanna move.”

“Maybe,” Drawing out the letters in one long drawl, you pull the blanket around the two of you tighter.

“Are you gonna make me carry you back there?”

“Maybe.” You drawl once more, grinning up at him, “I mean, I wouldn’t complain if you did.”

“True, that’d be far too easy.” The Informant mulls, “Ah, I’ve got a better idea.”

“Now I’m scared.” And apparently rightly so, as the Informant wiggles his fingers threateningly, and dangerously close to your neck, you gasp. “You wouldn’t dare!”

“Hey, last time you were the who tried to get me in a tickle fight… And we all know how that ended up, don’t we?” Your face goes red, and part of you berates yourself for it, but the memory flares up in the back of your mind.

“Yes, well, still.” Nice rebuttal, there.

The Informant chuckles, “Alright, Alright. No tickle fight… for now. Well, I guess that leaves me with just one option, then.” And suddenly his hands scoot underneath you and you’re hoisted high into the air. Instinctively you wrap your arms around his neck, yelping with surprise, but the Informant cradles you carefully- never letting you fall. He laughs despite your frown at him.

“At least warn me next time.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” The Informant carries you towards the bedroom, with your head pressed into the crook of his neck- he still smells like hot cocoa.

“Oh, wait.” You press a hand to his chest as the two of you pass under the doorframe.

“Hm?”

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” You point above his head, the Informant looks up and smiles.

“Right… the mistletoe.” He shakes his head, “I’d ask why you put that right there… but knowing you, I’d say that you planned for this exact situation.”

“Well I didn’t account for the snowstorm in my master plan,” You tap your chin thoughtfully, “But I’ve learned to accommodate sudden changes, and of course not much could stop my grand scheme.”

“Your grand scheme to get me to kiss you under the mistletoe?”

“It’s truly a very nefarious plan.” You twist your hands through the Informant’s hair.

“You’re practically a supervillain.” He holds you up a little closer.

“Do you really think so?” Your voice drops into a whisper.

“Absolutely dastardly.” He leans in closer.

A knock on the door resounds through the quiet of the apartment, rising over even the din of the TV’s quiet prattling. The Informant sighs, and you can’t help but feel that string of disappointment in your heart as well. Still, he takes it in good humor, smiling as he presses his forehead to yours, gently setting your feet back down on the ground, “Well, it looks like your plan’s been foiled either way.”

“Oh, no,” You shrug with a smile, “This is just a minor setback. I’m sure that my plan will come to fruition eventually.”

“Is that so?” Another knock at the door, The Informant squeezes your hand, already slipping away, “Then I look forward to seeing when that day comes.”

Ricky:  You would’ve thought that, somehow, the holidays might make Ricky a little less… Well, a little less Ricky. Maybe he’d even smile at the happy-looking decor or the warm feeling of companionship that always comes with the holiday spirit or… or… or something. But no. No Ricky is still there, frowning over his papers from work, even though he technically has the day off, still a grouch as always.

Now that won’t do at all.

It’s the holidays! He doesn’t want to spend it doing something big and extravagant? Fine. But there’s no way in hell you’re going to let him just sit there and work through the holidays with that sour look on his face. You need to do something, anything to remedy this disastrous situation.

So you went out shopping. You may have shopped a bit too much. Because now you’re trying to stealthily maneuver around Ricky’s home-office by dragging too-heavy boxes around and stringing up holiday lights and decorations- you’ve dropped more than one thing, and you can tell by the curious, cautious glances that break up Ricky’s workaholic trance that he’s growing suspicious of everything you’re doing around the flat.

Still, somehow you manage to place the snowglobe on the table without shattering it and plug in the lights without the power going out, and Ricky is none the wiser. Still, the last touch is going to be the trickiest, it involves hanging something just above his door without Ricky catching wind of the surprise. You’ve left the space just outside carefully devoid of any holiday spirit to keep him in the dark up until now, and if you’re caught here then the entire surprise will be ruined. So you grab a step-stool, place it carefully outside the door, setting it down so very gently so that it doesn’t make a peep. You’re practically holding your breath as you step up on it, the last touch clenched in one hand as you lean over to-

“What are you doing?”

“Ricky!” You gasp, and in your shock the decoration slips from your hand, falling to the floor. You stumble off of the stool, arms waving out beside you until you catch yourself awkwardly on the wall, hands pressed against it with feet skewed unnaturally to prevent yourself from falling. “You, uh… Hi.”

Ricky’s eyebrows rise upward, but he doesn’t look all that surprised at your sudden display of a lack of coordination, just confused… Well, confused, that is, until he glances around the room, taking in the newly decorated walls adorned with multicolored lights, the tiny snow globes and candles and nutcrackers lining every flat surface you could find and the little paper snowflakes and stars strung up around the ceiling.

“Su-… Surprise?” You recover from your half-fall, smiling hopefully, “Uh… Too much?”

“Just a bit.” Ricky admits, “What did you do- buy out the whole department store?”

“They had some great sales.” You give a strained laugh, Ricky still says nothing. Your shoulders slump- there’s still no holiday joy or even a mere spark of happiness on his face, “Okay, yeah, it’s too much. I just-… You didn’t seem happy!”

“You did all this because I didn’t… seem happy?”

“Yes!” The disappointment begins to bubble up and boil into frustration, “I mean, come on, Ricky! It’s the holidays! And all you’ve done is sit in that office and work! And I get it, you’re a grouch who can’t find any joy in any of this stupid, silly stuff, but really? You won’t even come out of there and spend the holiday- I dunno, not working? This is supposed to be a time that you spend with the people you love and care about and I had hoped that maybe, just maybe we could spend a little time together but no- you’ve been locked up all day and I guess I just… I dunno, I thought maybe if a quiet holiday wasn’t going to work I had to be loud enough to actually get your attention.”

Ricky falls silent, he bends down and picks up the fallen decoration you failed to get up- “Is this…?”

“Mistletoe.” You sigh, “It was a stupid idea but I thought- I dunno, I thought that if I could get you outside I’d have this whole ‘Ta-dah! Look at everything here. Isn’t this great?’ and that the best way to start off the holidays would be with a kiss or something- Look, it’s cheesy. And it was a bad idea, obviously.”

Ricky presses his lips together in contemplation. Then, wordlessly, he steps over to the stepstool- “Ricky?”- righting it as he stands up and hangs the mistletoe above the door. “What are you-?” Ricky steps back down and places his finger to your lips.

“I’m sorry.” He starts, “You said you wanted this to be a grand surprise, right? I’m not the best actor, but…” Ricky steps back into his office, he leans back against the desk, and gestures outward with his hands, “Go ahead.”

“Oh.” You feel a grin spreading over your face, you clear your throat and knock on the side of the door, “Hey, Ricky?”

“Hm?” You can already see him fighting off a smirk- he really is a terrible actor when it comes to this.

“Come outside, I have something to show you.”

“Well, I suppose I could spare a moment.” Ricky pushes himself off of the desk. He feigns a look of surprise at the door- perhaps a bit too much surprise if you’re being critical. So you match it, and show a bit too much enthusiasm as you eagerly throw your arms out towards the gaudy decorations.

“What do you think?”

“I think it’s… absolutely garrish,” Ricky smirks at you, “But you put them up, and I suppose that makes them amazing, too.”

“Well, now, you could’ve been a bit nicer…” You shrug, “But I’ll take it.”

“You’re forgetting something.” Ricky nods to the mistletoe.

“And who’s to say I wasn’t just waiting for you?” You wind your arms around his neck.

“Happy holidays,” Ricky mumbles, pulling you close. He leans towards you then…

Then his office phone begins to ring. And you can feel Ricky grip the back of your shirt as an irritable sigh makes it way out from his lips. “I step away for one minute and-”

You laugh to hide the disappointment. “It’s fine. I get it. You’re ‘off work’ but you’re never really off work, right?”

Ricky shakes his head, he doesn’t even glance towards the phone, just cups your face in his hands. “No. It doesn’t matter. Not today.”

“But-”

“But nothing.” Ricky smirks, “You said it yourself, didn’t you? It’s the holidays. No work- not for today. Today is about you- today is for us.”

V: You would say that V really went all out for the holidays but that would imply that they don’t normally go all out for… Everything. V’s making scrambled eggs? V’s going all out. V’s throwing a party? V’s going all out. V’s celebrating the holidays? V’s going all out. And by all out you mean that you woke up nearly suffocating under a pile of presents wrapped in thousands of different brightly colored patterns each of which hurt your eyes in a new and interesting way. Once you manage to stumble out of the swamp of wrapping paper and bows you find yourself lost in a jungle of holiday decorations- a candy-cane forest maze with the way you think you’re supposed to take lighted by a series of dimly glowing candles.

“V?” You call out but to no response. Shrugging away any sane wonderings of how they could have set this all up without you having heard or just how long this took you follow the path of candles towards the living room.

And there’s the culprit themself, “Ah! Hello, love!” V stands surrounded by even more candles, a burning match in their hand as they light another- all of them are scented, you realize, as the almost overpowering stench of everything holiday- from pine to mint- overwhelms your senses. “So glad you’re awake- what do you think?”

“I think I’m going to throw up.”

“Now, now, that’s no way to get into the holiday mood.” V saunters over to you, laying a hand against your back, “You’ll go numb to the feeling soon, darling, and then you’ll simply be left with that pleasant holiday smell.”

“V… why did you raid a candle store, again?”

“Can I not simply wish to wash you with the greatest holiday experience ever known to humankind?” V gasps innocently, “Oh, darling, I simply wished for you to have the grandest holiday season possible, so of course I couldn’t decide which was more fitting- dawn pine or candy-cane lane? Of course both have their own pros and cons but it was simply too difficult a decision so, of course, I remembered that the most integral part of any relationship is compromise- and therefore I bought both.”

“This is a fire hazard.” You glance around the room, “This is… absolutely a fire hazard.”

“Ah but that just makes it all the better!” V wraps you up in their arms, “Oh, did you open your gifts? I was so hoping you’d enjoy them. Of course if you don’t then I’ll gladly return what you don’t wish to have- that way I can simply find you something even better!”

You flash back to your previous struggling to emerge from that sea of presents, “I- uh- yeah, they’re great. Hey, V? You really… didn’t have to do all this. I would’ve been fine with a small holiday.”

“A small holiday?”

You push yourself away from them, “Yes. I was kind of hoping for it, actually, just you and me together. Doing something… not quite so crazy?”

“Ah…” V’s face drops in disappointment, but they recover quickly, “Well, then, no matter! I’m sure there’s some lovely restaurants we could peruse if you’d so wish, and besides- the greatest gift I could possibly bestow upon you is my own company so I suppose that will have to do for now.”

You snicker, and plant a kiss on their cheek, “I’d like that.”

“Well, then we simply must find the best possible restaurant- ah! But before we go, there’s one last surprise I have for you, dear.” V leans in close to your ear, and with a quiet, happy hum, tells you, “Look up.”

Cautiously, with the usual amount of dread that comes when V tells you they have a surprise, you glance upwards- “That’s… a lot of mistletoe.” The entire ceiling is covered with a layer of mistletoe- it almost looks like the plant is growing out of the ceiling itself. “This is even more of a fire hazard than I thought.”

“Well, now, I wanted to be sure that no matter where you went you’d be bound to kiss me.” V places a hand to their chest, that sly smile creeping across their face, “I suppose as it is now you’ll just have to keep kissing me for the time being. Not that that’s an unpleasant situation, I’m sure.”

“I know I’ve said it before but you really are insane, you know that, V?”

“I’ve something of a reputation to keep up at this point now, don’t I?” V pulls you close, their hand pressing against the small of your back, keeping you to them, “Now then, my love, would you perchance bestow upon me the honor of your kiss?”

“Well when you put it like that…” You lean forward- even V themself smells like the candles- peppermint and pine.

The doorbell rings, and sufficiently shatters the atmosphere. Both you and V pull back with a sour look at this interruption… but… Who is it? “Were we… expecting anyone?”

V frowns in thought, then they grin widely, “No but… ah! I think I’ve a keen idea of who it is.” They grab your shoulders, the bitterness washed from their face with a new grin of excitement, “Tell me, love, have you ever met my siblings?”