#i technically helped make her i picked her name flips hair epically

[ruffledgloves]

tsubaki yugi!!!!!! my friend's hnn daughter oc!!!!!! I heart her!!!!!!!! How do i tag this!!!!!

(tsubaki belongs to @/ursocialreject on twitter :3)

[magnolia-penn]

Aizawa.Exe

Just a drabble that ended up being waaaay too long.

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of sex, Shitty writing

Under the cut cuz it’s long af

Life has never quite gone your way. There would be high moments that came with teaching high schoolers that strove to become heroes but the loneliness was unbearable. Living in Japan away from your family and friends left a hole in your heart that only got deeper after every failed date or hookup.

You had often joked about your high standards with your colleagues at UA, even to the point of openly wishing for a Build Your Own Boyfriend website. Everyone had laughed but continued to reprimand you for having your standards too high.

It was on your walk home that the ad had first caught your attention.

“Are your standards too high?” The smooth female advert cut through your epic jam session. “Well, do we have a solution for you.”

The advertisement had listed off a website that would allow you to custom order an intelligent robot that would learn and grow to your needs.

You blew it off as clickbait and skipped the ad as soon as you could. You finished your walk home and promptly took a shower. A certain ash blond in your heroics class had chased another student into the forest and you had to chase the both of them down.

As you settled into your nightly routine, you found it hard to keep your mind from wandering back to the ad, imagining the sort of man you’d order.

‘He’d have to be at least six feet tall and handsome as the devil. Hmm, punctual and unafraid to sleep until noon with a sense of humor.’

You continued to play with that idea through the evening and into your slumber, dreaming of what he might look like and how he would feel.

The next morning, you were awoken by a very flustered and excited Nemuri, who let herself in again.

“Y/N! Y/N! Y/N! HAVE YOU SEEN THIS!” The R rated hero shoved her phone into your face before you had even opened your eyes to process what was going on.

Her web browser was open to the website you heard about yesterday.

“YOU CAN CUSTOM ORDER A ROBOT BISHIE BOYFRIEND! THEY EVEN HAVE A COLONEL SANDERS!”

“Nem, you’re an absolute horndog and you don’t need a bishie boyfriend Colonel Sanders. What time is it?” You pulled some hair that had stuck you face via drool from your mouth and stretched.

“ITS 5:45 AM!”

“NEMURI WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK!”

You wrestled her into your guest bedroom and pushed an old wardrobe infront of the door to keep her in while you finished getting your beauty sleep.

When 7:00 rolled around, you released your friend and listened to her rant about the website over breakfast.

“Just look at it, Y/N. Please~” You swiped her phone from her hand and scrolles through the other tabs that held customization screens.

“Oh lord.” They had an entire tab for just his manhood.

“Pretty great, huh?”

The idea of customizing a boyfriend almost seemed taboo to you.

“It sounds like it could be clickbait or a way to steal your credit card information.” You returned her phone and turned to the stove to flip the egg you were cooking.

“Uh huh. And what if I told its not?” Nemuri pushes her chest against your back.

“Get off me, and how?” You gently pushed her away from you.

“I ordered one. He came last week.” The smirk she gave proved she was not kidding. “He’s absolutely perfect. After classes today, you can come and see him.”

She really did it? Strangely enough, you’re not surprised she did that.

“Wait, what about Snipe?” You thought everything was going smooth between them.

“Well, our relationship just was kind of a blur between dating and friends with benefits. Our sex was more chill and relaxed then it ever was actually passionate.” Nemuri reached into a cabinet and grabbed a plate.

You nodded in understanding. The majority of your dates ended up in friendships then actual relationships.

“And when I heard the ad for the boyfriend builder, he told me to get one. He said, and I quote, ‘You should get him. He’d make a better relationship. But if y'all ever need a real fuck, you know where to find me,’. AND I DID!”

Nemuri danced around with her egg on a plate before she sat down.

“Have you done anything with it yet?” You sat across from her and tilted your head in curiosity.

“Oh yes. We’ve been on dates and Hizashi is the absolute sweetest. I can’t wait to ravage him.”

“Hizashi?” It had a name?

She nodded. “The website has a name generator that you can use. They base their names off of the set personality. It chose Hizashi Yamada.”

“He sounds sweet.”

“Yep! He’s really loud though. They grow with you, so it’s understandable.”

You almost choked on your egg hearing that. “They’re practically sentient?!”

Nemuri nodded and quickly finished her egg. She washed her plate and announced that she had to go get ready for school. You followed her words and proceeded to get dressed. You lay everything out in the evening, so it didn’t take long to get ready. 

As you ran a comb through your hair, you opened the website on your phone. Deciding that there isn’t much to lose, you began to fill the order form out.

Six feet tall, Long Dark Hair, Just Enough Stubble To Be Sexy. The list went on. You managed to fill it out just in time to leave.

The daily trek to UA was as boring as ever, until you heard an strange noise. An animal in distress. Choosing that you’d rather be late to work then leave an animal hurt in the streets, you followed the noise. It lead to deep in an alley not far off your route.

You sifted through some garbage bags until you found the source of the noise. It was a mother cat with two little kittens. They were sickly thin and clearly struggling to survive. 

Evaluating your options, you came to the conclusion that instead of wasting more time to bring them to the vet all the way across town, you used your quirk to convince the mama cat to let you pick her and her babies up and quickly called up Recovery Girl to cash in a favor she owed you.

She agreed to help the cats and keep them in her office until the end of the day so you could take them home. Rushing to her office and then to your class left you breathless and dead on the floor in front of your students.

“Um, Miss. L/n? Are you alright?” Your problem student, Izuku Midoriya, asked.

“DANDY! JUST DANDY!” You yelled through the muffle of your hair and the floor. “I saved three cats from right outside my house, which is a half an hour walk from here, ran here, ran to Recovery Girl’s office, then up two flights of stairs to get here. I’m pooped.”

You got up and brushed yourself off. After apologizing to your class, you read off the daily announcements. You handed out graded papers and assisted students where they needed it until it was time for their first class of the day.

Using your free time, you stopped in to actually chat with Recovery Girl and check on the cats.

“They were malnourished and most likely wouldn’t of survived another day out there. Both kittens are sick but should recover swiftly, and the mom is already up and walking.” She explained.

“Have you figured out their genders?” You planned on keeping them and wished to find names for them as soon as possible.

“Ones a girl and the other is a boy. Are you going to keep them?”

You shook your head yes and squatted down to pet the mama who came up for some love. “I like the name Kayuma for the mother, but I still need some time for the babies. Maybe I’ll ask my class.”

Recovery Girl agreed and wrote some notes on the cats. You picked Kayuma up and pulled your phone from your pocket. You wanted to get a picture with your new cat, but your attention was pulled to a notification that went unnoticed.

Your order has been shipped! The package should arrive by 4pm!

“It’s already been shipped?” You wondered out loud.

“What’s been shipped?” You jumped at the new voice. Toshinori Yagi.

“Ah, some pet supplies for the cats. I ordered some after reading the announcements.” Technically not a lie because you really did.

“Oh! Already thinking about the newest additions to your family, how lovely.” Toshinori put a hand on your shoulder and gave a reassuring squeeze. “If you ever need any help or a cat-sitter, you can always ask me. My master loved cats so I know a thing or two.”

“Thanks for the offer, Tosh. You’ll be the first I call.”

The bell rung signaling the start of lunch and had the three of you scrambling to prepare for the second half of the day.

A few brief meetings and some class prep later, the day had finally ended. You sent out a quick email to your students asking about names for the cats and packed up your stuff, ready to go home and meet your new boyfriend.

“Hey! Y/n! Wait up!” Nemuri bounced up to you and clung to your arm. “Are you going to come over tonight?”

“Um…. No. I have the cats and I have to get everything ready for them.” You rubbed the back of your neck sheepishly, hoping she wouldn’t catch on.

“Uh huh. How about Hizashi and I come by to meet your new boy?” Nemuri placed her hand on her hip knowing full well that you weren’t paying attention to what she said.

“Oh yes, that would be lovely.” It took a bit before you processed what she said. “NEMURI, WAIT! THE CATS! I THOUGHT YOU MEANT THE CATS!”

“NOPE! WE’RE COMING OVER!” Nemuri skipped away before you could get a word in otherwise, leaving you alone and quite exasperated.

You picked up the cats and trekked home, a feat easier said than done with three now energetic cats in your arms. You pushed the door of your house open with your foot. 

Sighing, you let the cats roam for a bit as you set up the litter box and feeders from previous pets. It was almost four and the nerves were getting to you. Watching the new kittens romp around the living room while Kayuma lied on a pillow by the heating vent.

‘I hope my bot likes cats. I want so many.’ You didn’t get much time to think about your new boyfriend due to Nemuri and Hizashi bursting in at exactly four.

“WHERE IS HEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!” Nemuri squealed as soon as she entered the living room.

“Hey! He hasn’t arrived yet. Do you see a large crate?” Hizashi placed a hand on her shoulder to keep her from pouncing on you. “I apologize for her, she’s terribly excited.”

“Oh yeah, I know. She’s literally vibrating with excitement. I don’t think she’s calmed down since high school.” You stood from the couch where you had placed yourself in preparation for her outburst. “My name is Y/n Y/L. Nem sings praises of your name.”

“I’m Hizashi Yamada. She speaks about you quite often.” He extended his hand and you took it.

Your eyes widened at the warmth of his hand. You weren’t expecting him to feel so…

“Real? Is that what you were thinking?” Hizashi’s words startled you from your thoughts. “It’s always that look when people know I’m a robot.”

“I hope I didn’t offend you! I just wasn’t expecting it.”

“Nah, it’s fine. Better to get the shock over with me then with him.” Hizashi pointed to the door a second before a knock resonated through off of the front door. 

You walked to the door and opened it up. A beautiful woman was standing next to a six-foot large wooden crate. She resembled Nemuri.

“Hello! My name is Kiara! Thank you for ordering a Boyfriend! May we come in?” You nodded and open the door wider.

She picked up the crate with a trolley and rolled it into the house. She wheeled it into the living room and stopped in surprise when she saw Nemuri and Hizashi.

“Well, hello! How have you two been faring?” She set the crate down and stepped up to Hizashi. “You’re looking good.”

“We’ve been fine. How about you?” Hizashi responded.

“Oh, you know, delivering joy and boyfriends. My life and passion.” Kiara patted his shoulder and turned back to you. “Hizashi is probably one of my best. I’m so proud he got placed with my amazing cousin.”

Nemuri blushed and buried her face in Hizashi’s neck.

“Do you… Do you make them all?” You looked to the crate and to Hizashi.

“Yep! I hand make all of them! My quirk makes it super easy to finish quickly!” She clapped her hands together and her expression turned serious. “But enough about me. It’s now about you and your future!”

She quickly walked over to the crate and pulled the front off, revealing your new bot.

No, Boyfriend.

He was everything you imagined him to be. He was just right. He was perfect. He was…

NAKED

You quickly moved to throw a blanket over him while Nemuri cackled like a witch.

“Hah! You should’ve seen the look on your face! Oh, I should’ve gotten a picture!”

“YOU NEVER METIONED THAT THEY COME NAKED!”

“i DIDN’T FEEL THE NEED TOO!”

With that exchange, the two pro heroes pounced on each other in fight of friendly anger. With the attention on them, no one noticed the man in the crate open his eyes to the harsh light of the world. 

He looked down and noticed the blanket draped haphazardly across his body before readjusting it around his waist and stepping out of his container. 

A brief glance around with apathetic eyes shown that the room he was in was loud and obnoxious. Two people stood idly by as another two women fought on the floor. He padded up to the group undetected and observed the others in the room. With every attempt to tear his attention away from your form, the pull to you was overpowering.

Everything about you was mesmerizing. From your H/c hair to the gentle pull of your clothing around your curves. He was enthralled, absolutely enchanted.

“What the fuck is going on here. You two are squealing like pigs in the slaughter.” His mouth moved on its own, bringing the attention to him.

The look in our eyes is something that he’ll treasure forever. It was sweet and full of excitement and love. How he knew this, the answer never came to him, but he knew it was love and all he wanted was to see that look on your face forever.

“Oh! He’s awake! How are you feeling?” The woman in the business suit asked.

“Tired.” As much as he tried, he could not pry his eyes away from you. “Yet, I feel so full of energy.”

The only other male nodded. “Yep. When I first woke up, I felt like that.”

He cast his gaze to the male for as long as he could before his eyes trailed back to you. He smirked and took a step closer to you.

“Are you like us?”

You shook your head ‘no’, “Sadly, I am not. But I promise to love you like we are the same.”

“What’s his name?” The bluette asked suddenly. “Didja get one picked out from the site or did you have one in mind?”

With their eyes on you, it hit you like a truck when you realized that not only did you not have a name picked out for him, you forgot to click the enabler for the name generator.

“Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit,”  you dragged out. “I was so busy with classes and the cats that I forgot. Ughhhhhhhhhhhhh. I’m a shitty girlfriend.”

“Cats?” He asked.

“Yeah. Three cats. They’re around here somewhere.” You flopped dramatically onto your couch and buried your face in your arms.

“Well, we could help. I made him and I know Hizashi’s creative. Not too sure about Midnight though.” Kiara suggested.

“Thanks Kiara. Nem, don’t take any offense to that. She doesn’t know you the way I do.” You peeked at your friends through your hair and noticed that your boyfriend has disappeared. Probably to find the cats.

“She’s right though.” Hizashi snickered.

Nemuri tackled him to the ground and all you could do was watch while they wrestled on the ground.

Suddenly, a knock at the door made you all jump.

“Shit, who is that?” You cursed before standing to get to the door when you heard it open.

A faint, “Um, hello sir. Is Y/n home?” was heard and then some shuffling. Toshinori.

“You’re fucked.” Nemuri said from the floor.

“Yeah, no shit.”

Not a second later, Toshinori followed him into the room where you all were. Thankfully he had found some clothes.

“Hey, Tosh~” You tried to say as casual as you could. “What brings you to this part of town?”

“Y/n, I live down the street from you and you left your papers back at U.A.” Toshinori held up the stack of paper you were certain you grabbed. “And I think you might have mine.”

“Oh yep! Probably. I was so frazzled and excited about the cats I must’ve grabbed the wrong stack. Here, come with me. They’re still in my bag.” You lead Toshinori into the hall where your bag was.

“The cats or him?” He asked and you choked on air. 

“W-wait. You’ve got the wrong idea.”

“Uh huh. And what of that giant crate in your living room? It looks suspiciously like the one Nemuri threw out when she met her boyfriend.” He cocked an eyebrow at you. 

“Ugh. You’re a dumbass but you’re too smart.” You looked around despite the fact everyone in the house already knew. “He’s a bot I ordered.”

“Do you like him?” He asked.

“Huh? I’m not sure.” You pulled your bag off of the hook and started rifling through it. “I’m definitely attracted to him, but feelings will take time.” 

“Yet I can see the empathy in your eyes. There is some infatuation there.” 

“LEAVE ME ALONE! STOP BEING SMART!” You found the papers and checked to see if they were his. “Here. Do you want to meet him? I was going to have everyone stay for dinner to get to know each other.”

Toshinori nodded and quickly tucked his papers in his bag.

You walked back into the living room and the sight made your heart swell. All three of the cats had curled up on his lap while he sat on the couch between Kiara and Hizashi as Nemuri brushed his hair. They were quietly chatting about the cats that paused when we came in.

“Didja get it all figured out?” Nemuri asked.

“Yep. And you’re all staying for dinner. No questions.” You crossed your arms. “And we have a big problem. His name.”

“Oh. We handled that already.” Hizashi said. “Nem emailed your class asking about real names for the cats and then we gathered the responses and let him choose.”

“And?”

“Shota Aizawa.”

That name sent fuzzy feelings through you. It sounded perfect to you.

“Shota Aizawa.” You repeated. It rolled off the tongue beautifully.

“That’s my name. Don’t wear it out. I just got it.” Shota quipped.

Nemuri coughed to hide a laugh and spit out her two-cents, “She’ll definitely be wearing it out tonight.”

You chucked a decorative pillow at her and went for the tackle.

As the two of you wrestled on the floor and the other three attempted to pry you two apart, Shota couldn’t help but to smile at the new family he was gifted.

[amessywritersmind]

Slip Ups - H.S

Summary: You were a major fan of One Direction before you met your boyfriend of 1 year, Harry Styles, and you've done an amazing job at hiding that fact from him. Sometimes there were slip ups though.

Warnings: Language

When I say I was a big fan of One Direction, I mean BIG. From every inch of my walls covered in posters, to owning anything with their faces on it, I was obsessed. Of course when I turned 18, it became insensible to have all these things, so I packed them in a box and hid it in the back of the family storage shed, gone but never forgotten. Save for their hardcopy albums, movie, and a few other little things, there was little evidence I even knew who they were, Unless you knew me. If you knew me, you'd know there still wasn't a second where there wasn't a lyric running through my head, regardless of the lack of merch.

The day I actually met the boys, it was completely by accident. You bet your ass I was a mess of nerves and a billion words I wanted to say to them, but I didn't want to be the fan that ruined their seemingly peaceful day on the town. So I pretended to not know who they were. Now, here I am a year and 3 months later, having been dating Harry for a whole year, and he still has no idea of my love for the band he's apart of. At least so I thought.

The first time he caught me was early on a Saturday morning.

I groaned tossing and turning quietly in bed. The time read 5:30 AM. Though my limbs were heavy with tiredness I knew I wasn't going back to sleep any time soon, so I decided to get up and start making breakfast. After all, it was Harry's first day back from tour, so I figured he'd appreciate a nice breakfast in bed.

I rushed down stairs, contemplating whether or not a speaker would wake Harry up before ultimately deciding to use headphones. I hit shuffle on my music and began gathering the material to make pancakes and waffles.

Just as I was about to flip over the first batch of pancakes, a familiar tune came on. As the opening to No Control played out, I checked around to make sure Harry wasn't anywhere to be seen, before allowing myself to slowly sway to the song. Swaying turned to bouncing, which turned to jumping around the kitchen nearly shouting the lyrics. The song ended too quickly, so I decided to put on Act My Age, pretending to know how to Irish River Dance, when I turned to stir the eggs, coming face to face with an amused Harry. I let out a screech of embarrassment, ripping my headphones out, my cheeks a bright red.

" 'aving fun there love?" he chuckled, mimicking my dance moves and singing the lyrics to No Control, very sexually might I add.

I shook my head, choosing not to answer but rather face back to the pancakes, flipping them so they don't burn.  I heard him shuffle, the song starting over from the beginning before he came and wrapped his arms around me swaying us to the beat of the music, grinding against my bum, kissing up my neck as he lowly sang his part in my ear.

Sweet, where you lay

still a trace of innocence on your pillow case

As the chorus came up, he spun me around, dramatically doing the movements James Corden made up for the song during their episode of car pool karaoke. This continued for the rest of the song, him dancing around like a weirdo and me joining in eventually. As the song came to an end, he spun me around one last time before kissing me sweetly.

" Didn't think yeh were a fan?" he says, questioningly.

I cleared my throat, face completely flushed.

" 'm not really, just remember that song from when you guys performed it" I shrugged as if I hadn't dedicated my entire teenage existence to these boys.

Thankfully breakfast finished just in time and the subject was spoken about no more. 

 The next time he caught me was even more by surprise.

I had had gotten a text from Harry saying that he was gonna be home late tonight, so I decided to just get ready for bed.

Unknown to her of course, Harry really wasn't staying late, but rather picking up her favorite Chinese take out so they can have a nice movie night in.

I had just stripped down and started washing my hair when a tune came to my head. It was my all time favorite song when I was younger.

Oh I would carry you over

fire and water

for your love

I began dancing terribly in the confined space of the shower, getting louder and just letting loose, considering I was home alone. So I thought at least.

I just finished singing Harry's glorious part where he does the little "Oh I would, oh I would" harmonies when a voice joined in, finishing off the rest of the song. I ripped the curtains back to see Harry leaning against the doorway to the bathroom with a smug look on his face.

"Not a fan, eh?" he prodded once more.

"I only know that song because you epically fell during it" I said defensively, crossing my arms. He only shook his head.

"Yeh just HAD to bring that up didn't yeh? " he said with a pout before exiting the bathroom, the sound of my laughter following him.

 The next time he caught me, it was completely my fault, good thing I had the excuse of it being because the new album , Made In The A.M just came out to save my cover once more.

I was cooking dinner one Wednesday night, Harry lounging lazily on the couch watching the telle, when I started humming some random melodies, before my mind subconsciously landed on Walking In The Wind from the new album. I couldn't help myself, I started quietly singing the words.

You will find me

you will find me

in places that we've never been

for reasons we don't understand

walking in the wind

I started to sway gently to lyrics that hit home for some reason.

After awhile of quietly singing the rest of the song, i felt a pair of eyes on me. I looked over to see Harry peering over the edge of the couch, a look of adoration on his face. I couldn't help but smile back at him.

"Can I help you sir?" I said smirking.

"I just love yeh, and your voice. Sounds real nice te hear you singin my song" he said smirking.

I just shook my head going back to cooking.

 The last time he caught me, I couldn't hide my deep, dark, 1D obsessed past from him any longer.

I was getting ready for the day one morning, Harry in the shower, when a song I haven't heard in ages came on, Magic by none other than One Direction. I was going to press next but i couldn't this song was such a bop I couldn't resist it.

Cause you, you got this spell on me

i don't know what to believe

kissed you once now i can't leave

cause everything you do is magic

I sang into my hairbrush into the mirror. Before i knew it the bathroom door was open and Harry stood watching the scene unfold, holding back laughter.

"ok, we never even technically released that song! Got somethin yeh want to tell me love?" he chuckled. I sighed knowing there wasn't any point in hiding it now. i sat him down on the bed, acting as if i was about to tell him i ran over his cat.

"Look, H, my lovely boyfriend, there is no easy way to tell you this" i started off sighing. He tried to hold back his laughter.

"I have been, unknown to you, obsessed with this band called One Direction, for YEARS. Maybe you heard of them? Mhmm, i had every poster, anything with their face on it, you name it, i had it." I said nodding my head, trying to keep a straight face.

"no way?!" he gasped feigning surprise, bursting out into laughter moments later.

"but darling, in all honesty, i already knew. Your sister told me one time about the "unmentionable" box in the shed" he said laughing as my face burned up.

"But i still love you all the same. You are still completely adorable" he whispered  quietly. I love this man even more, if that was even possible.

[exhuastedpigeon]

Like a Bob Ross Painting Dex/Nursey Teen 2,863 words

“I can’t believe you still don’t drive,” Will said, trying and failing to keep the fondness from his voice, slowing as they hit traffic on the Whitestone Bridge, “You’re a 28 year old adult.”

“I’ve lived in New York most of my life, I don’t need to drive,” Derek kicked his feet onto the dashboard. If it had been Will’s actual car he might have been annoyed, but it was a rental and Derek was paying for it, so he didn’t say anything.

“Except for times like these,” Will pointed out, “I won’t always be around to drive your ass to our friends weddings.”

“Yeah you will, you’d never leave me, Poindexter,” Derek bat his eyelashes and blew him a kiss, “You’d be lost without me.”

“And you’d be stranded without me,” Will chirped, a smile tugging at his lips.

“It’s been years and you still chirp me,” Derek grinned, “And they say romance is dead.”

Will turned up the music. It had taken a few years of road trips for them to get on the same page, but they discovered that they were both fond of Vance Joy, Shakey Graves, and Blue October. Derek sang softly under his breath as Will drove them out of the city and to Providence for what felt like the 100th time since they graduated 5 years prior.

Read on ao3

He wasn’t sure why they’d car pooled the first time, he hadn’t owned a car and was planning on taking the train, Derek couldn’t drive and was planning on flying, then someone had asked if they were driving together and next thing Will knew Derek was renting them a car and Will was driving them north.

They hadn’t bothered to change it up since then, and honestly, they didn’t need to, it worked well.

Things had changed a lot since they graduated from Samwell, Dex wasn’t shit broke anymore, Chowder played for the Rangers, Nurse was the top copy editor at a small publishing company, they were all doing well. They all tried to get together a couple times a month, but with his NHL schedule Chris couldn’t make it as often as he liked, but Derek and Will never missed a week, and honestly, they rarely missed a day.

The drive from Derek’s Brooklyn apartment to Providence was just under three and a half hours and with the way Will drove they usually got there in about three hours and fifteen minutes. This drive though, Will took his time.

They didn’t technically need to be at the hotel until dinner with the guys at 6 and the drive through New England was beautiful this time of year, he didn't mind taking a little longer to enjoy the view. Plus, the earlier they got there, the longer they'd have to help with wedding stuff and it wasn't that Dex didn't love Bitty and Jack, but he definitely didn't love arts and crafts.

“Yo Will, can we stop here?” Derek asked suddenly, jolting Will from his thoughts.

“I told you to pee before we left,” Will rolled his eyes, but pulled off at a scenic overlook. They were the only ones at the overlook and Will bit back a smile at the way Derek’s eyes lit up.

“The trees match your hair.”

“Oh fuck you,” Will snorted, “The leaves don’t match my hair.”

“They do,” Derek picked up a leaf off the ground and held it up to Will’s hair, “I’m in a forest of beautiful Poindexter hair.”

“You paint such a vivid picture,” Will leaned against the little wooden fence, “Such a wordsmith. Are you, by chance, a poet?”

“Oh fuck you Poindexter, I could write sonnets about your hair,” Derek jumped onto the picnic table, “Odes to your eyes, an epic about my love.”

Will laughed, fighting the flush the threatened to spread across his cheeks, “You, have absolutely no chill.”

“For some reason I lose all my chill around you, William Poindexter,” Derek laughed, “There once was a man named Dex, who dreamed of lot’s of -”

“We’re going to stop there, you’ve rhymed my name with sex enough times to know how that one ends,” Will pushed off the fence and walked back toward the car, “Come one, let’s go. I bet if we get there early Bitty will feed us. You know he’s stress baking as we speak.”

“Think Chow will propose to Cait now that the wedding is almost over,” Derek asked a little while later when they crossed into Rhode Island.

“I’ll be surprised if he makes it back to New York before asking,” Will snorted, “He’s got no chill .”

Derek grinned at him and Will’s stomach swooped, “ You’ve got no chill Poindexter.”

“I never said I did,” Will turned up the music. He was going to spend the entire weekend with Derek at his very best, surrounded by their friends who knew him better than anyone in New York and who brought out Derek's charm, he needed a little time to prepare himself. Every time Derek opened his mouth Will wanted to either kiss him or fight him. Or both. That was something that would probably never change.

It was just that most of their former teammates had settled down or were well on their way to settling down. It was weird seeing Shitty and Lardo with a baby, Ransom married, Holster engaged, hell, even the tadpoles were mostly in serious relationships these days. Everyone but himself and Nursey.

Will dated occasionally, mostly when his coworkers set him up, and it never lasted longer than a few months. He was busy with working at a small but profitable startup, and he’d never say it out loud, but there was also Nursey. He’d probably always harbor a little something for Derek Nurse.

And Nurse would joke that he didn’t need a partner because he already had Dex. So, yeah, they were both single.

“Over/under on Bitty and mama Bittle getting into the Great Jam Fight of 2016 all over again,” Nurse asked as they pulled into Eric and Jack’s driveway.

“She wouldn’t right before the wedding, would she?”

“Only one way to find out,” Derek opened the trunk and grabbed the boxes that they’d brought from New York at Bitty’s request.

The door opened before Will could knock and Jack stood in the doorway, “Oh thank god.”

“Everything okay?” Will asked, not sure if he wanted to hear the answer. The last time he talked to Bitty on the phone had been three days ago and he’d seemed okay then, but a lot can change in three days.

“Bits was convinced you two would forget to bring the champagne. I told him even if you did, we could buy it here,” Jack waved his hand as if to say, ‘you know Bitty’.

Will and Derek nodded, they did know Bitty.

------

Will took a sip of his beer, smiling at the busser who took his plate away. Bitty had managed to transform the barn where the reception was so that it was barely recognizable. To his right Derek was talking loudly about the rec league hockey team that he and Will played on, to his left Ransom was talking to Holster, loud enough that the table could hear.

“We’re thinking about adoption,” Rans’ smile was soft, the kind of soft that made Will’s heart clench.

“By thinking, Justin means we already have baby coming,” Tater’s smile was so bright Will had to look away. The rest of the table was grinning at Ransom and Tater, “Little Sam get here next week! We even have room done already”

“Bro!” Holster hugged Ransom so hard that Will was sure his head might pop off, “You’re having a baby!”

Before anyone else could jump in, the first dance was announced and they all turned to face the dance floor. Derek leaned his head against Will’s shoulder, “Do you ever feel like everyone else is growing up and starting their lives and we’re just here, two bros who haven’t done any of that yet.”

Will looked at Chowder and Cait, an engagement ring now on her finger, at Ransom and Tater who were adopting a freaking kid, at Holster and Halle, at Shitty and Lardo, little Ella on Shitty lap, “At least we’ve got each other.”

Derek huffed out a laugh, “Sap.”

“Shut up and watch the dancing, asshole,” Dex flicked his arm and Derek grabbed his hand, squeezing it and not letting go. Will felt his heartbeat in his throat, but he didn’t let go of Derek’s hand, he never wanted to.

Bitty and Jack looked so happy, completely wrapped up in each other as they danced to Drunk in Love . It was actually pretty well choreographed, not that anyone was surprised.

The two days that lead up to the wedding had been surprisingly calm on the wedding front. There had, of course, been the usual whirlwind that came with the former Samwell men’s hockey players, but that was familiar, even comfortable.

There hadn’t been any disasters with the centerpieces, with the venue, or with Bitty’s family. Will was pretty sure that had a lot to do with Bob and Alicia Zimmermann keeping things under control, for which he was grateful. It had meant that the team and their respective partners had a chance to just hang out. It felt like the old days between Rans and Holster completing each other’s sentences and Shitty ditching his pants.

Once the dance ended the DJ invited everyone onto the dance floor. Dex allowed himself to be pulled up from his chair by Derek, willing his stomach to stop flipping. He and Nursey were in such a good place now, really good friends, probably best friends if Dex was honest with himself, he didn’t want to ruin that with his unrequited feelings.

“Put a smile on Poindexter,” Derek spun Will around with a laugh, “This is a wedding, it’s a celebration,  of love .”

“I’m celebrating plenty,” Will rolled his eyes, but spun Derek around, his heart feeling light.

“Well, now you are,” Nurse grabbed Will’s hand and they danced. Will let himself enjoy it, let himself think that maybe this could be real, that one day maybe this could be them.

Three songs later Dex managed to duck off the dance floor when Derek got pulled into a dance off with Holster and Shitty. He tucked himself against a wall with a drink, watching everyone dancing and laughing.

He was happy being with all his friends, seeing everyone so happy, but he was also a little sad. Well, maybe sad was the wrong word. He was a little melancholy and he didn’t know why. Well, that was wrong too; he knew why. He was glad that everyone else was so happy, he was happy, but he wanted something more. He was tired of pining.

“You’re looking awfully lonely over here Poindexter,” Derek leaned against the wall next to Will, gently bumping their shoulders together.  Will barely managed not to jump out of his skin.

“They really managed to capture ‘autumn’ as the theme,” Will looked around the barn, it looked like something off of Pinterest, “Bitty outdid himself.”

“Of course he did,” Nurse leaned against the wall, watching as everyone danced and mingled. Will watched him instead of the other people, “Fall is the most beautiful season after all.”

“You just love it because you love leaves,” Will grinned, bumping his shoulder against Derek’s, feeling a little warm under the collar at the way Derek looked at him, “Fall was always destined to be your favorite.”

“It must be the autumn in your hair, the sunshine that’s somehow been trapped in your eyes, the way you’ve managed to become the embodiment of my favorite season,” Derek’s voice was quiet, his eyes steady as he looked at Will, “Maybe it’s that you’re both the chill in the air and the fire that warms me up, maybe you were always destined to be my favorite.”

There wasn’t anything that Will could say to top that or at all really, but he tried, “So you’re a poet after all.”

“I told you, I could write odes about you,” Derek gave a helpless shrug, like he was starting to regret saying anything at all.

“Well, I’m no poet,” Will stepped a little closer to him, wishing he wasn’t holding a drink, “My feelings tend to manifest in more physical ways.”

“That so?” Derek offered him a smile, but he still looked a little helpless.

“Yeah, like this one time,” Will took a breath to steady himself, “I was so into a guy that I built him an entire bedroom set.”

The smile that spread across Derek’s face lit Will’s heart on fire, “Oh yeah?”

“And this other time, I made him weekly dinners for three years because he’d eat takeout every night if I didn’t,” Will put a hand on Derek’s hip, “But see, he does stuff for me too.”

“Does he now?” Derek put his hand on Will’s shoulder, stepping a little closer to him, invading Will’s space, like he had been for years.

Will squeezed Derek’s hip, “Sure, he drags me out of my comfort, he tells me stories, he makes me smile.”

“You make him smile too,” Derek’s lips quirked up, “So, I’m gonna kiss you now, if that’s chill.”

Will rolled his eyes on instinct, but he was smiling, “Yeah Derek, that’s chill .”

Derek closed the gap between them, his lips soft against Will’s. It was gentle, but it only took Will slipping his hand under Derek’s button down to deepen it. He pinned Derek against the wall, grateful that they were the same height, it made kissing easy.

“Will, fuck Will,” Derek said into the kiss, “God, I’ve wanted to do this forever.”

“Me too,” Will grinned into Derek’s neck, “Only took three weddings for us to get here.”

“Yoooo,” Holster’s voice was too close for comfort, Will looked behind him to see Holster and Random high fiving, “Foiiine.”

“Fines ended when we left the Haus,” Derek laughed, “Go back to your partners, I want to spend some time with mine.”

“Partner huh?” Will’s heart flipped.

“Figure we did it on the ice for four years at Samwell,” Derek shrugged, “It’s a good title.”

“Yeah, yeah it is,” Will wanted to take Derek back to the hotel and solidify the next step of their partnership right now, but Chowder grabbed both of them in a tight hug before he could suggest it quietly to Derek.

“Guys!! You’re together!! Guys!!” Chowder’s smile was as bright as the fucking sun, “I can’t believe you’re finally together!”

“Yeah, who had Jack and Bitty’s wedding in the pool?” Lardo asked with a smirk.

Shitty pulled out a little notebook, “That would be, Jack.”

“Jack?” Ransom and Holster said at the same time. Some things never change.

“Wait, you guys bet on if we’d get together?” Will asked, feeling Derek’s hand in his and squeezing it.

No one looked ashamed of themselves, which wasn’t surprising at all if he was honest with himself. Bitty and Jack walked over to their little corner of the barn, “Actually, we bet on when y’alled get together, not if.”

“When, not if,” Derek smiled, “Like fate.”

“Well, Dex does make you dinner twice a week, and you play hockey together one night a week, and you go out together at least once a week,” Chowder said like he was explaining something to a kindergartener, “It just seemed kind of inevitable.”

“Yeah, that seems fair,” Derek nodded and they all laughed. Will felt like that last piece of himself was finally clicking into place.

------

“It feels like we’re driving through a Bob Ross painting,” Derek grinned lacing his fingers through Will’s as they drove back to New York the afternoon after the wedding. They’d gotten a bit of a late start, it had been hard to pull themselves out of the hotel room.

“It’s really beautiful,” Dex kissed Nurse’s knuckles, pulling into the next rest stop. He’d been planning on stopping soon anyway, he wanted to see Nurse’s smile at the leaves again, it lit up his entire face.

“You beautiful fucker,” Nurse got out of the car and took a deep breath. There was the smile that Will had been hoping for, it made him feel lighter just looking at it.

“You sound like Shitty,” Will laughed, “Don’t make me feel like stopping was a mistake.”

“There are no mistakes, Poindexter, just happy accidents,” Derek grabbed a handful of leaves and threw them in the air with a grin.

“Are you a happy tree?” Dex asked, not even trying to hide his smile.

“Of course I am, I’m with you,” Nurse picked up more leaves and dropped them on Dex’s head before running away yelling, “They matched your hair, I couldn’t resist.”

“I’m not a fucking Bob Ross painting Nursey,” Dex ran after him with a laugh, tackling him into a pile of leaves with a dull thud.

“Coulda fooled me,” Nurse leaned up and kissed him, “Meeting you was the happiest accident of my life.”

Dex smiled into the kiss. Yeah, it was a pretty happy accident.

[ethanalter]

‘GLOW’ Postmortem: Kimmy Gatewood and Rebekka Johnson Break Down Their Big Match

Rebekka Johnson and Kimmy Gatewood in ‘Glow’ (Photo: Netfli

Warning: This post contains spoilers for the “Live Studio Audience” episode of GLOW.

As rowdy hairdressers-turned-wrestlers Stacey and Dawn, Kimmy Gatewood and Rebekka Johnson are the self-described “rodeo clowns” of Netflix’s new series, GLOW. As the duo tells Yahoo TV, they’re also living out their childhood dreams of joining the Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling. Growing up, they were each hooked on the exploits of the original real-world GLOW wrestlers. “We understood the theatrics of it,” Gatewood says. “They did sketch comedy, they did physical humor, they beat each other up and they wore hilarious outfits. There was nothing unappealing about it!”

From those formative GLOW viewing sessions, both Gatewood and Johnson grew up to do sketch comedy and physical humor for a living… albeit without the body slams. The duo has appeared both together and separately in a variety of viral web series and improv groups, and are also two-thirds of the performing and podcasting trio, The Apple Sisters. When the opportunity to be part of a fictionalized GLOW series came along, they leapt at it. “The show sort of culminates everything that Kimmy and I have been working towards in our professional lives,” says Johnson. “Outside of wrestling, which we didn’t know how to do before we started the show!”

Fortunately, the actresses mastered the art of wrestling courtesy of a pre-production boot camp. That helped transform Gatewood and Johnson from the Apple Sisters to the Battling Biddies, the name that Stacey and Dawn picked for their tag team. And the duo got a chance to show off their moves in GLOW‘s seventh episode, “Live Studio Audience,” for a match that pits the Biddies against Cherry Bang, aka Junkchain (Sydelle Noel), and Tammé Dawson, aka the Welfare Queen (real-life wrestler Kia Stevens). And in a last-minute twist, Stacey and Dawn enter the ring… in Ku Klux Klan robes? Gatewood and Johnson tell us their initial reaction to learning about the Biddies’ new costumes, and what it was like to do a somersault with hoods on their heads.

Johnson, Gatewood, Alison Brie, and Sunita Mani in ‘GLOW’ (Photo: Netflix)

I understand that you auditioned as a duo for GLOW. What was that process like? Gatewood: We’ve been working together for ten years as the Apple Sisters, where we do a lot of physical comedy — singing and dancing kind of stuff. So we’re very familiar with falling over each other and doing silly dances in the name of comedy. We were asked to audition by the show’s casting director, Jennifer Euston; she asked us to go in together. The script they gave us said that we were going in for two ’80s stand-up comedians. Now, we’re actually hairstylists on the show. We auditioned, and then they said, “Just do whatever you want.” So Rebekka did a jump flip and I threw myself into the wall! [Laughs.]

Johnson: Then, in our callback, they asked us to come up with a tag team duo. We came in with five different duos, and said, “You tell us when to stop.” But they didn’t want us to stop — they wanted us to keep going! And we made sure to show that we could play all sorts of different characters, from New York-style characters to Southern pig farmers and old ladies to young kids. We noticed that a lot of the other girls auditioning were wearing workout clothes, and Kimmy and I put on the most unflattering ’80s jeans, and did our hair in the ugliest ’80s way. I would say our gorgeousness shone through in our performance, but our outward appearance looked absolutely ridiculous!

You mentioned that the characters started off as stand-up comics. How did they end up becoming hairdressers? Gatewood: We didn’t get to have like a long conversation with the writers about it, but I think the idea was that these women are all misfits, and it would be too obvious, maybe, if they were stand-ups that became silly performers as opposed to hairdressers who have to kind of find themselves, you know? They have to have more of a transformation into becoming the Beatdown Biddies.

Johnson: I think what we say in the pilot is that our characters are the funny ones in the salon. Our clients tell us we’re hilarious and should be on TV. I think it actually makes it more interesting that we’re hairstylists. We also got to do the girls’ hair for some episodes; it’s part of the idea that, in addition to being wrestlers, everybody pools their skills to make GLOW work. We actually learned some techniques from the show’s hair and make-up people, to make sure we didn’t look like idiots when we were doing it.

Gatewood: Yeah, the fact that we serve a larger function helps that “let’s put on a show” kind of feeling. You know, people who find their hidden talents to really pull together and put the show together. We had such an amazing time shooting it, and we bonded so much. The energy of our group was so fun and shines through in the ensemble scenes. We really cared about each other while we were wrestling, and also while we were acting and just hanging out backstage.

(Credit: Netflix)

So let’s jump ahead to the seventh episode, “Live Studio Audience,” and the epic match between the Beatdown Biddies and Cherry and Tammé. When did they first tell you that you’d be wearing KKK robes for that scene? Gatewood: Oh my gosh… [Laughs.]

Johnson: OK, so what would happen is that the people in charge of the wrestling scenes would get the script first. So in this case, the stunt coordinator [Shauna Duggins] and our wrestling coach, Chavo Guerrero Jr., got the script and were like, “This is who is fighting who.”

Gatewood: They told us, “You have a match,” and then gave us a bunch of side-eye. We were like, “What is going on?”

Johnson: Yeah, they were not telling us what it was! The Beatdown Biddies are normally the good guys, so they were like, “You’re actually playing the heels.” We said, “That’s weird. Why are we playing the heels? Are we not the Beatdown Biddies?” And they said, “No, you’re not.”

Gatewood: We were like, “What is happening?!” [Laughs.]

Johnson: They said, “We can’t tell you.” So we were full of anticipation and nerves while working on the match.

Gatewood: And then I sneakily peeked over at the script while they had it open, and my face turned white! I looked at Rebekka and she was like, “What?” I said, “I’ll tell you in a minute.” I have to be honest — I was so scared. We were both so scared!

(Gif: Netflix)

Johnson: We didn’t know what it was gonna be like. We had no idea about anything except that, all of a sudden, we’re now playing KKK members. Obviously, we trusted the creators [Liz Flahive and Carly Mensch] implicitly, but it’s still so nerve-racking. This was just after Donald Trump won, too, so the tension in this country was so palpable. Everything felt very heightened, so it was definitely a shock that we were gonna do this.

Gatewood: We read the script and had a conversation with Liz and Carly, and the first thing they did was reassure us that we did not have to play KKK members for the rest of the run.

Johnson: They also told us that this was based on a real thing in wrestling. In the ’90s, there was an NCW wrestling match where an African-American wrestler, Virgil, wrestled a man in KKK robes. It was very brutal and horrifying.

Gatewood: It ends very bleakly with Virgil basically getting lynched. This is something we learned about wrestling, in terms of the theatrics of it. Chavo and Kia talked us off the ledge a little bit. They said that, in wrestling, the best matches are between the angel and the devil. And it’s fun to play the devil sometimes because then you get to make the good guys look even better. So that was the way Rebekka and I could kind of reconcile this. We were making fun of the people we were playing, and we would also be able to make our opponents look better the worse that we were.

Johnson: Yeah, because they KKK are already buffoons. They wear robes and hoods and say the dumbest sh*t. We got to be the most ridiculous, cartoonish version of them and get our asses kicked. It’s serving the plot for Cherry and Tammé to win because they don’t normally get to win. So it ended up being that we were able to have fun making fun of those people instead of having to portray them in a real way.

Gatewood: I will say that on a technical level, it was heard to wrestle with something covering your face! [Laughs.]

(Credit: Netflix)

That was going to be my next question! Johnson: It was not easy. We had to practice and figure out how to do it so that the hoods would stay on us when we were wrestling, and not move so that we could still see through the eye holes. At one point, when Sydelle and I were practicing our moves, she tripped, got caught up in my robe and fell right on my chest! It knocked the wind out of me, but it only hurt for two seconds and then I was like, “I’m OK.” It made me feel really powerful.

Gatewood: We were the wrestlers underneath those hoods! It was such an intense match, so we hope that everyone knows that it’s us.

Johnson: Yeah, we did the whole thing, and I’m like, “It looks really good! We look like we’re wrestling really well.” And people will probably think it wasn’t us! [Laughs.]

(Credit: Netflix)

Which one of you did the somersault in the robes? That seemed like a tough move considering you couldn’t see very well. Gatewood: That was me; Rebecca started off fighting Cherry and then I fought Tammé. So I did the somersault, and then she does the helicopter and throws me down to the ground. It was a little scary, but a somersault is a pretty easy thing to do. Of course, the element of the hood does make you wonder, “Where am I gonna end up and will the holes be on my eyes! I would say the hardest move is what Rebekka did with Sydelle, which was just the regular headlock. That was probably so hard because there was so much fabric around her neck.

Johnson: Yeah, I couldn’t see where she was and had to slide in front of her and trip her to knock her down. A couple times when we did it I would accidentally kick her leg. But then we figured it out!

Gatewood: It’s interesting; that fight is very much a ’80s match in terms of its moves. With wrestling today, you’ll see a lot more flips and very impressive acrobatic moves. These kinds of simpler moves were definitely a throwback. It left me feeling a little nostalgic.

(Credit: Netflix)

How did you work with the writers to make Stacy and Dawn individuals in addition to a duo? Johnson: We didn’t discuss it with them necessarily, but it started to take shape that Stacey is slightly more wild than Dawn. I’m just one step behind, [providing] the slight voice of reality.

Gatewood: I think that they probably were writing towards us a little bit because we’ve been friends for so long. In the beginning, we were making choices to differentiate ourselves, and then they really started to lean into the differences between our characters. I would imagine that when you first meet Dawn and Stacey, you’re like, “They’re bosom buddies,” but then you realize that they each have their own kind of personality and journey. Also, my hair goes to the right and Rebekka’s goes to the left! [Laughs.]

Johnson: I’m a brunette, and she’s not. So there you go, that’s another character different. And I have a big butt.

Gatewood: Stop it! [Laughs.] We really are very similar to our characters, in a way, because we were really game for anything. We’re stoked to be a part of this.

(Credit: Netflix)

Should GLOW get a second season, is there something you want the Beatdown Biddies to do? Gatewood: I would love Dawn and Stacey to play multiple characters, kind of like Chainsaw and Spike [the Heavy Metal Sisters from the real-life GLOW], or if we do something crazy with fire or chainsaws. It would be really fun to see us behind the scenes trying to figure out how to operate a chainsaw.

Johnson: And I think it would be fun for Dawn and Stacey to get some romantic action going behind the scenes.

Gatewood: Yes! We love heavy metal bands and are like groupies essentially, so it would be fun to see us on the Sunset Strip with our newfound fame [getting with] the drummer or the drummer’s brother.

Johnson: Or the bouncer!

Gatewood: Anybody, really. The band would never let us sleep with them. [Laughs.]

GLOW is currently streaming on Netflix.

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Review: The Final Season of ‘Broadchurch’ Is Sensitive Yet Strong

[irish-nlessing]

Making the Grade - Ch. 1

The only sound Poppy Miller could hear was the pounding of her heart in her ears.  The words were swimming in front of her eyes.  “Clerical error...unable to complete graduation application...missing credits.”  Reaching up with a trembling hand, she pulled her laptop closed with a quiet click.  “No no no no no.  This is not how this is supposed to go.  This is not how this is supposed to happen.”   Her voice was thick, the words tinged with panic.  She rolled away from the small desk in her cramped office and dropped her head between her knees and started counting.  “100...99...98...97…”  The numbers had always soothed Poppy, even when she was a small girl.  They never changed, there was always order, and they never faltered.  Saying them out loud made her feel like she was in control and centered, even when things in her world were spinning into chaos.

“25...24...23...22...21...20.”  Poppy took a deep breath, feeling her heart rate slowly return to normal.  Her ears were no longer ringing and making her feel as though she was listening to the sounds of the bustling newspaper office from under water.  Sitting up, she smoothed her hair and opened her laptop back up with a purposeful flick of her wrist.  She grabbed the phone from it’s cradle on her desk and punched in the direct extension to her academic advisor’s office.  For the past three years Poppy had spent countless hours in Professor Williams’ office, pouring over class schedules and timelines.  He’d always been supportive, if not a little bemused, by Poppy’s fervent need to graduate early.  Early on he’d tried to figure out why she was so focused on it, but he’d given up quickly after realizing that once Poppy had made a decision, it was done - never to be altered.  Her drive and stubbornness had helped propel her to the top of the Dean’s List and had made her the youngest Editor in Chief of The Monitor, the weekly newspaper of her small liberal arts college.  On the third ring, Professor Williams finally picked up.  “Ms. Miller.  To what do I owe the pleasure?”  Poppy scowled - she forgot about the caller ID function.  She hated not getting to lead conversations.  “Professor Williams.  I’m currently looking at very disturbing email which seems to indicate that my application for graduation confirmation has been denied due to an unfulfilled credit requirement.”  She heard a sigh through the receiver and then Professor Williams’ deep timbred voice speak soothingly into the phone.  “Poppy, this is not a crisis.  I promise.  There is time to fix it.”  

“This semester?”  Poppy demanded.  She could hear her advisor carefully mulling over his words.  Her belly filled with dread as she waited for him to respond.

“Poppy, I’m so sorry.  But, barring some extraordinary solution, I just don’t see how we can fix it this semester.”

“No.”  Poppy said, simply.

“Poppy, I’m not sur-” Professor Williams was mid sentence before he was cut off, unceremoniously.

“No.  There has to be a way.  The email said I was short four credit hours in a political science elective.  There has to be a class you can get me into.”  Her voice had lost some of it’s authoritative edge.  Fear and desperation were starting to creep in, softening her plea into a whimper.

After an agonizing silence, Professor Williams finally spoke.  “We’re two weeks into the semester.  But, let me see what I can come up with.  I’ll call you as soon as I have some answers.  Ok?”

Poppy let out the breath she’d been holding.  Her lungs burned with relief as she blew the air out across her lips.  “Thank you.  I’ll speak with you soon.”

Across campus, Niall Horan sat in the tiny graduate student office he shared with two other graduate student assistants.  It was little more than a glorified closet with harsh overhead lighting, a tiny desk and two old tattered chairs.  The walls were littered with schedules, post it notes, and memos from the university.  Niall knew each crack in the wall, every pin hole and knick in the heavy wooden door.  This tiny place had become his home, almost more familiar than the narrow streets that wound through the tiny hamlet in Ireland where he grew up.

Niall sighed and slumped back in his desk chair, rubbing his huge hands across the two day stubble on his jaw.   The past two years of his Ph.D. program had been a whirlwind and he had jumped in head first to his studies, almost to the complete detriment of his personal life.  Only his flatmate, Harry, had managed to pull him from the brink of complete social suicide by insisting Niall join him once a week for pints at the dodgy bar just off campus. But even Harry, with all his charm and joie de vivre, couldn’t help Niall land a date.  In fact, in the two years Niall had been working on his Ph.D. he'd been on exactly one date.  It was such an epic disaster that it had almost become Niall’s claim to fame among the other doctoral candidates, who had gone so far as to affectionately refer to it as “the negative date”.  Every time Niall brought it up, Harry couldn't stop himself from cringing at the secondhand embarrassment.  Looking back, Niall realized that maybe taking a girl he met in a bar to a student documentary screening wasn’t the best idea.  It also may have been a bad move since the documentary was an expose about the recent plight of a newly-discovered South American tribe and their disastrous exposure to twentieth century technology.  Turns out, watching a native healer try to treat a snake bite with a makeshift surgical kit wasn't really a turn on for most people.  The girl had fled ten minutes in, muttering “you’re hot, but you’re not that hot”, leaving Niall perplexed.  All in all, it wasn’t a total loss.  Niall thought the film was a fascinating anthropological look at indigenous politics.

Niall shook his head at the memory and pushed back the fringe of his bleached blond hair.  It was starting to grow out a bit and he'd been toying with the idea of just letting it go.  His older brother, Greg, had insisted it would help him with girls back home.  It didn’t work when he was fifteen and it was not helping now almost a decade later.  Now it’s mostly out of habit.  He tugged on the ends and wondered if anyone would notice if he showed up to class one day a brunette.  He was startled out of his day dreaming by a sharp rap on the door.  “Oi! Professor Horan, hard at work I see!”  Niall snorted and rolled his chair back further into the office so Harry could come in and sit.  Harry always seemed to take up as much available space as possible - and not because he was a few inches taller than Niall.  Niall envied the way he seems to effortlessly occupy any space he’s in, spreading his calming aura to everyone around him.  Niall had never been able to command space like that, always preferring to stay at the peripheral and ease his way into situations.  Niall motioned for Harry to sit and leaned back with his long fingers laced behind his head.  “Mr. Styles, slummin’ it in the political science wing today?”

Harry picked up a stack of papers and plopped them on his lap as he made himself comfortable.  “Well, there’s only so many freshman papers on Phoenician pottery I can read before my eyes start bleeding.  Thought I’d pop over and see what you’re up to.”  Niall shrugged and sucked a breath in over his teeth.  “Not much, I’m afraid.  I’ve only got the two sections of senior political theory and my dissertation meetings.  M’actually not sure what I’m gonna do with all the spare time.”  Harry was only half listening, he was flipping through the stack of papers on his lap.  They were quizzes from Niall’s classes and he was perplexed at what he saw.

“Niall?”

Niall hummed in response, but didn't look up from where he was absentmindedly scrolling through emails on his laptop.

“Why are there phone numbers on these quizzes?”  Harry’s shuffled through most of the pages to make sure he was seeing correctly.  Sure enough, on more than a handful of pages there were phone numbers inked neatly underneath names.  Some had a smiley face doodled next to them, some had tiny hearts.  “Looks like they’re all next to girls...wait, nope here’s a couple guys too.”

Niall spun in his chair and glanced at what Harry had in his hands.  “What d’ya mean?  I always get phone numbers on papers.  Have since I started teachin’.  Do ya not get those as well?”

Harry huffed out a laugh and raised his eyebrows.  “Only from the students I end up shagging.”

Niall missed the last part of Harry’s response when his office phone rang.   “Niall Horan here.  Professor Williams, how are ya sir?” He tucked the receiver into the crook of his shoulder and motioned to Harry that he needed to take the call.  Harry nodded and dropped the stack of quizzes back on the seat.  Before turning to leave he tapped at his watch and stage whispered, “Eight o’clock, Griffin’s Lair, don’t forget!”  Niall nodded and shooed him off, a silent promise to meet up at their usual spot.

Poppy’s phone blared from her desk, drowning out the chatter in the small office.  She and her assistant editor, Sabrina were in the middle of a layout meeting for next week’s issue.  There were mock ups and articles strewn everywhere, with clippings and glue sticks littering every surface.  Poppy groaned and shuffled papers around finally grabbing it panting out a greeting.  “Poppy.  Glad I caught you!  I have good news.”  Professor Williams filled her in on how he’d been able to pull some strings for her.  He’d managed to get her into a senior seminar political theory class.  Poppy collapsed into her desk chair with relief as he told her.  But before she could launch into thanking him a hundred times, he gently stopped her. “Poppy, listen.  This isn’t going to be a walk in the park.  This is a senior seminar.  Technically it’s for political theory majors only, but I happen to know one of the graduate assistants that’s teaching it this semester.  He’s agreed to override your enrollment status and let you in.  It’s the only way you can earn the credits you need this semester.  It’s going to be tough.  I’m just warning you.”  Poppy waved off his cautious tone and tried to reassure him.  “I’m sure I’m up to the challenge.  I’ll just have to put in some extra work at first to get caught up.  I’m just so relieved, honestly.  Thank you so much!”  Poppy scribbled down the class information on a scrap of paper, silently cursing that she was going to have to cut the layout meeting short if she was going to make it to this new class on time.  Sabrina stood and peeked over her shoulder, plucking the paper off the desk to read it.  Poppy dropped the phone back in its cradle and spun to face Sabrina.  “It’s a goddamn miracle!  I’m going to graduate this semester if it kills me Sabrina.”  Poppy started shoving notebooks, pencils, and her laptop in her messenger bag, while Sabrina’s eyes darted back and forth from the scrap of paper to her phone.  “What?  Why’re you staring at your phone?  Did you hear me?  Williams got me into another class - I’m going to get my credits!”

A smirk spread across Sabrina’s face and she turned the phone to face Poppy.  “Poppy Miller, you lucky son of a bitch.”  Poppy was wrestling with her jacket and threw a glance at Sabrina’s phone.  “What am I looking at?”  She was struggling to get the zipper to catch and was only halfway listening.  

Sabrina groaned and pushed the phone closer to Poppy’s face.  “How dense are you?  Niall Horan.  You ended up in Niall Horan’s class, Poppy!  Look at him!  Every undergrad who’s even thought of taking a poli sci class has tried to get him as their teacher.  He’s fucking gorgeous, and he has an accent.  AN IRISH ACCENT!”  Poppy was staring at her friend in sheer bewilderment.  Sabrina’s face was flushed and her chest is heaving with each breath she took.

Poppy took the scrap of paper out of Sabrina’s clutches and squinted at her carefully.  “Are you gonna be ok?”  Sabrina growled and threw her hands up.  “You’re hopeless, Miller!  You’re graduating this semester, you need to live a little!  And here’s the perfect chance!  Dazzle him with your wit and intellect!”  Poppy laughed and shook her head at her friend’s desperate pleas.  “He’s hot, I’ll give you that. But I hate to break it to you, I’m not using this class as some sort of twisted speed date.  I just need the A.”  Sabrina dropped back down to the floor to finish the layout, waving Poppy off without another glance.  Before the door clicked shut, Poppy heard her friend sigh heavily and mutter, “She’s a lost cause.”

Sweat prickled the back of Poppy’s neck as she trudged across campus.  It was only the second week of the term and the weather hadn’t yet cooled down from the summer doldrums.  Despite Poppy’s tendency to be pulled together and in control with almost every aspect of her life, her appearance was usually the first thing to go to pot.  It wasn’t as if she was slovenly by any means, and she cleaned up when the occasion called for it.  She actually had a whole closet filled with beautiful suits, flowing summer dresses, and piles of expensive shoes her mother insisted she needed, and refused to stop sending to her.  But for days filled with classes, and nights filled with her duties at the paper and studying, Poppy was most often found in flip flops, old chuck taylors, running shorts and whatever college t-shirt or hoodie that happened to be clean.  She kept her long, wavy hair meticulously washed, deep conditioned, and trimmed, but you’d never know it since she almost always had it thrown up into a messy knot on her head.  Sabrina often referred to Poppy’s outfits as “athletic hobo chic”, which Poppy insisted was a compliment since it contained the word “chic”.  

Weaving through the late afternoon throngs of students, Poppy passed through the center of campus.  There were groups of students huddled on the steps of the library, talking and sipping on coffee.  A few guys that looked a little younger were tossing a frisbee back and forth across a grassy lawn while a few girls sprawled out on a blanket to watch.  Dodging a couple walking hand in hand, Poppy stopped to hoist her bag back onto her shoulder.  She tucked a few loose pieces of hair back into her hair tie and sighed.  For all of her success, Poppy had never quite mastered the art of “college life”.  She’d gone to one or two parties freshman year (waste of time really), had a few sour dates and hookups (not all it’s cracked up to be, if she’s honest), and a few close friends (better than a lot of fair weather acquaintances, she’d told herself).  It wasn’t exactly that she harbored any regrets really, but on sunny afternoons surrounded by carefree laughter and people actually living in the moment, she couldn’t help but feel like she’d missed out.  She shook her head and glanced at her watch, silently cursing herself for getting distracted.  “Nice, now you’re gonna be late because of a stupid frisbee.  Way to go, Poppy.”  She muttered to herself tersely while she jogged down the path to the small brick building tucked behind the graduate library wing.  Taking the stairs two at a time, she slid into the classroom with the last few stragglers.  Since this was technically a senior seminar, there were only about twenty students milling about.  Poppy spied an empty desk in the front row, but off to the side of the room.  She hoped it would give her a good view of the board, without drawing too much attention to herself.  

Busying herself with pulling out her laptop and getting ready to take notes, Poppy noticed about four or five girls huddled around a desk at the front of the room.  Each girl had a reverent sort of look on their faces, and Poppy snorted and rolled her eyes.  Looking more closely, Poppy could just make out a pair of long, lanky legs poking out from the desk clad in skinny jeans and trendy hipster chukka boots.  One of the girls turned to head back to her her desk and Poppy was suddenly staring into the clearest blue eyes she’d ever seen.  Poppy felt the air sucked from her lungs and every cell of her body burned as if they were on fire.  His bleached blonde fringe fell flat against his brow, with his thin pink lips parted just enough for Poppy to get a peek at a row of perfectly straight, immaculately white teeth.  The moment was shattered seconds late when another student cleared her throat loudly, finally prompting Niall to look away.  “Sorry, wha?” Poppy could hear the timbre of his accent carry over the chatter of the the other students.  He pulled the pair of round framed glasses from the collar of his shirt and slid them on, trying to see what the other student was showing him in her textbook.  Poppy let out the breath she’d been holding and tried to get a hold of herself.  She wasn’t here to ogle at the TA, she was here to pass this class and graduate early.  Silently chastising herself for letting her hormones get the best of her, she refocused and pulled up a fresh word doc to start taking notes.  

Niall cleared his throat and shuffled some papers around on his desk.  His throat felt dry and constricted, like he was starving for a full breath of oxygen.  He tried swilling water from his green Nalgene bottle and focused on the peeling sticker of the Irish flag plastered to the side.  This girl had completely captivated him and he had absolutely no idea why.  He assumed she was the last minute addition Professor Williams had phoned him about, but she hadn’t said a word to him yet.  For all he knew, she could just be in the wrong room.  He became conscious of the room falling silent, signaling the actual start of class.  Running his long fingers through his hair he passed out the sign in sheet and went up to the board to start his lesson.  “Ok, so last week we talked a bit about how politics interacts with economics.  Today we’re going to start our discussion on how that interaction affects relations between industrialized nations in the West.”  Niall continued through his bullet points, citing examples from the assigned readings and asking for the students to contribute their own thoughts.  For the first time since he started teaching, he found himself drawn to one student.  And, as luck would have it, he was drawn to the one student who hadn’t said a word the entire hour.  He desperately wanted to hear her voice, but she could hardly be expected to contribute on her first day after the rest of the students had over a week’s worth of lectures.  Every few minutes he would allow himself a quick glance to her desk, watching her delicate hands fly across the keyboard of her laptop.  She seemed completely focused on the task at hand, looking back and forth from the board to her screen.  Niall realized that she seemed hell bent on not making eye contact with him.

With ten minutes left in the class, Niall announced a pop quiz.  He was met with a few scattered groans, which made him laugh.  He saw the girl’s head pop up over her screen at the sound of his throaty chuckle flowing into the room.  She looked a little dazed, like she couldn’t reconcile the sound he was making with his physical appearance.  Harry had once told him something similar, that his laugh “sounds like a bunch of angels havin’ a group orgy”.  Niall had curled his lip at his friend’s crass description, hoping the mental image it gave him would fade quickly after a few more pints.  Niall passed out the quizzes, going over last minute instructions.  “Ya got ten minutes to finish this up, you’re free to head out when you’re done.”  As he passed Poppy’s desk he placed the paper in front of her carefully, holding his breath so he could hear her whisper a tiny “thank you”.  He sat back down and chewed on his nail thoughtfully, watching the her hem and haw over the questions.  He silently cursed at himself for giving it to her, it covered material they had discussed last week and he should’ve made an exception for her.  “Stupid Niall.” His eyes widened as he looked over and saw her tip her head to the side at him.  He thought he’d muttered that under his breath, but apparently he was a little louder than he wanted.  He felt his cheeks go hot in embarrassment and stared back down at his hands.

Students started filing out of the class, dropping their quiz on Niall’s desk.  Poppy was feeling hot and her palms were damp.  She knew exactly three of the questions on this quiz.  For the first time she was unprepared for something and she hated the feeling.  She closed her eyes and quietly started to count.  “10...9...8...7…”  When she got down to “1” she took a breath and filled in the rest of her answers.  She stood up and gathered her things, suddenly noticing she was the only student left in the room.  “Oh.  Oh, um, sorry….I’m probably over the time, but I um, didn’t know some of the - well anyway.  Here.”  She slung her bag over her shoulder and thrust the paper towards Niall.  His mouth was open, and he was searching her face, seemingly struck speechless.  She tipped the paper a little closer to him and that seemed to shake him out of his silence.  

“Oh, right, sorry.  Yeah, don’t worry about this one, I’ll give you the points for it.  Shoulda told ya that earlier ‘cause ya know, you’re new and I’m sure ya haven’t gotten the text yet.”  He swallowed heavily, his eyes never leaving hers.  Poppy picked at her cuticle, not sure what to do.  The silence was awkward but she didn’t want to look away.  He seemed genuinely kind and sweet and a little naïve.  He smiled at her and nodded, and she ducked her head and turned to walk out.

“Oh! Poppy, wait!”  Poppy spun and walked the few steps back over to Niall.  He pushed her quiz back towards her and handed her a pen.  “You forgot to leave your phone number at the top.”  Poppy’s smile faded and her stomach suddenly turned sour.  Of course.  He’s trying to hit on her.  She glared at him, her eyes trailing from his clear blue eyes down to his thick fingers gingerly offering her the pen.  She leaned back and jutted out her hip, crossing her arms in defiance.  The placid expression on Niall’s face started to falter and he limply dropped his hand away from her.  Confusion was written across his features, and his brows began to pull in slightly.  “What’s the mat-.”

“You know, everyone said you were hot.  But nobody said you’d be sleazy.  If you wanted to ask me out, you could’ve been a gentleman about it.”  Without another word, she spun on her heel and stalked out of the room, leaving Niall a little red in the face and a lot confused.

He slunk down into his seat and stared after her.  Running his hand through his hair he breathed out, “What the fuck just happened?”

A/N: This would not be possible without the help, support, and encouragement of my dear friends and betas, @dibsonthat1d / @lucyvanpelt78 / @squirrely83. Massive thanks to you!