#kettle go brr brr

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Just One Reason: A Wonderful Winter Time

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Lloyd Hansen

masterlist - to be added

Summary: A chance encounter at the sandwich shop doesn’t end how you expect.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

'❄️IT'S SNOWING!❄️' 

You hit send and put the phone down. You glance through the window on the other side of your desk and smile. You have it all set up so your heavy laptop doesn't block out the scenery, though it's just the alleyway.

The suite in the building across from yours usually has a rich array of flowers on the summer. And the sun hits nicely at a certain time of day and almost illuminates the brick. 

The whole desk buzzes and you read the response. Lloyd almost makes you laugh with only a '😿'. He used to tease you for all your emojis but now you find yourself trying to decipher his use of them. Sometimes he doesn't make much sense. He is a funny guy. 

You pick up your phone and take a picture out the window of how the powder starts to pile on the railing across from you. You hit send and add a follow-up, 'so prettttty.' 

You smile as you peer out again. Another swell of nostalgia floods through you then rolls over to a sense of longing. Your dad would love it. He'd be trying to goad you into sledding, even though he always lost control of his toboggan.  

Your phone shakes violently in your hand. This time, it doesn't stop. You answer Lloyd's call, "uh, hi?" 

"Whatcha doin'?" 

"Uhhhhh," you lean your elbow on the desk, "just finished some work. Was going to put the kettle on--" 

"Forget the kettle. I'm outside." 

"Outside? Lloyd." 

"I know, tootsie, you're a creature of habit but I'm a man without rules," he snickers. 

"I didn't even know you were back," you say. 

"Wow, some welcome, huh?" He scoffs. "Thought you'd be happy to see me." 

"I am," you argue shrilly. "Alright, let me just get my stuff. It might take me a few." 

"Sure thing, candy girl," he says, "I'll keep the seat warm. Crank this thing up to ten." 

"Right, bye," you hang up and stand with a sigh. 

You're happy to have a friend but Lloyd can be a bit... demanding. He's a bit oblivious too. He doesn't always ask, he just kind of does. You're much the opposite but you suppose it makes it more interesting.  

You grab some socks before you tuck your feet into your boots. You stand and grab your jacket. You lost a button and replaced it with a close dupe. Still, it stands out. 

You shove your phone in your purse and pause. Your forgetting something. You scurry back to grab the bundle on the armrest then pluck up your keys. You hurry out and barrell down the stares. He may have caught you offguard but you always hate to keep anyone waiting. 

You kick up snow as you near his car and the doors unlock loudly. You sit with your feet outside and shake off the snow. You pull your legs in and shut the door with a brr. 

"I thought you liked this sh--stuff," he snorts. 

"I do!" You hold out the bundle, "welcome back, Lolly." 

He smirks and curiously eyes the sewn pouch. He takes it and chuckles at the nickname. One autocorrect mixup and it just sort of stuck. 

"Remember, you can't call me that around others. I got an aura to maintain," he says as he loosens the string and looks inside. He tugs out the wolly mitt with its black and grey ombre. He narrows his eyes and slips the other free. He examines them, feeling the stitching. 

"You don't have mitts so I made some," you say, "just in time too!" 

He looks at you then back at the wool, "you made them?" 

"Yeah, like mine," you bounce excitedly, "you like them. I hope the colour's okay. I didn't have black but I found that on discount." 

"They're... nice," he says. 

"Please, try them. See if they fit. I had to guess and my hands are tiny." 

"Uh, yeah," he flinches and looks down again. He shoves his hand into one and raises it, stretching is fingers inside, "perfect. Warm." 

"Awesome," you smile proudly. "But uh, you know... if you don't like them. I know they're not really your style. Oh, maybe I could sew in a Gucci tag--"  

"Stop," he slips it off and puts them back in the bag, "I love em, okay?" 

He leans over and pulls open the glove box. He puts them inside, his shoulder against you, and snaps it shut. 

"Make sure I don't lose them," he sits back and rests his hand on your seat, "so, anyway, you're not gonna make me feel like a chump so easy. You're not the only one with a surprise." 

"Please, I'm not dressed for that bar," you protest.  

"Ha, no, don't worry, you'll be fine," he assures you. 

"Can I have a hint?" You ask as he pulls away from the curb.  

"Nope," he makes the P pop. 

"Hmm, alright. I'll be patient." 

"Just sit pretty, tootsie roll," he steers down the snowy street cautiously. "Wanna turn on some of that girly trash you listen to?" 

You roll your eyes and tap the touchscreen of the stereo. You search for the 00s station and hit play. An Xtina classic comes on and you turn it up. 

"Oh, I love this one," you wiggle in your seat. 

"Really?" He remarks, "wouldn't think..." 

You sit back and tap your foot to the rhythm. You watch the snowflakes drift and peer up into the deepening blue evening. It's so pretty. You're just happy not to be alone. 

You look over as the tires crunch to a stop at the light. At least he has the sense not to drive like a maniac in this weather. As you glance at him, his lips curve around the lyrics of the song silently. You chuckle softly and turn back to the window. You knew he liked your music. 

[palesweetscherryblossom]

How Prince! Hawks reacted to you being taken

Warning: Brief, non graphic mention of non con and sexism on Keigo’s end. Albeit implied. (Dirty ass bird) -Pissed off bird noises go brr -In all seriousness, he wasn’t happy. All of his calmness and chillness evaporated and was replaced with hate and anger -He’s of the humble opinion that all canaries should be in their cages. That includes you -Dabi has been a massive thorn in his side, ranging from casting spells that result in dangerous arson attacks and sending his beasts to terrorize his kingdom. -Hawks didn’t expect for him to go for it really hurt though. -It just pissed him off to no end! Ranging from his soldiers incompetence to the ideas of all the horrendous things Dabi could be doing to you! -Ranging from the worse torture imaginable to Dabi being a perverted freak. (Kettle meet the pot) -Dabi is feeling rather nice today though. So he sends one of his associates to goad Hawks into a game -If Hawks can successfully complete a month’s worth of challenges, then he can have you back and Dabi will back down. -If Hawks cheats or fails then Dabi gets you instead and Hawks has to forsake his royal status and humanity. -Unfortunately, much like men, the magical folk aren’t always fair -Certainly doesn’t help that Dabi’s associates have a bone to pick with the prince too

[themarginalthinker]

(This one doesn't really get a title, it's a near-totally unedited jam between me and @berd-alert for our vampire ocs the Sarahs and the Boys, discussing the topic of Immortal Children, and the vampire baby currently born, which is not the same thing.)

The baby is cradled in her arms, rosy cheeked and with a fuzz of hair already.

The Boys are fascinated with her. She looks like a living doll. Only Paul and Michael are brave enough to accept Sara's offer to hold her.

She takes milk and her mother's blood.

Paul nudges him and snickers "Kind of like you, huh?"

Michael shows teeth, but smiles. "You're only brave enough to say that because I have a literal baby in my arms."

"He is somewhat correct, though." Sara chuckles, slowly taking her daughter back from Michael. "She is much like a fledgling, and she needs the support that a fledgling does. But she doesn't have to kill to come into her own power."

Michael watches as the pair settle back into the large, plush chair, Sara rocking Sera. David was still not back from the run he'd taken with Dwayne. Michael wondered when the weirdness and odd...defensiveness would fade. He hasn't understood the hissed conversation about 'immortal children' David and Elder Sarah'd had, and no one has yet illuminated him.

"So. Is she just going to... Stay a baby?"

Sara looks up at him, expression puzzled. "No, of course not. She will grow up as any child would, and when she chooses to stop aging, she will."

Paul stands, making or the door.

"Still makes my hackles rise. Brr. No offense," he says as he leaves.

Michael can't help but scowl a little at that, and at the growing confusion.

"What the hell is all that about?" Michael asks.

Sara sighs. "An unfortunate side effect of cultural differences. Your kind cannot have children, You must make more via the embrace. My kind still have the ability to bear young. They do not need to be embraced, the gift of the blood is one they're born with. Unfortunately, your brothers see my child, and assume that I have embraced a baby. And, as you know, those who are embraced never grow past the day they were turned."

David had explained it...sort of. As much as he'd known.

There were different sorts of vampires, but the way he'd phrased it made it sound like something some chose to do, rather than something physical.

Michael lets the pieces slip together in his head - embrace a literal baby...immortal child...the pack's reluctance to come so near, the near-fight at the gate when David and Dwayne had seen the kid- Michael's eyes widened.

"Is that - I mean. Has something like that...happened before?"

"Unfortunately, yes. It was a horrid incident. A young woman who wanted a baby. It didn't end well, both the woman and the child were killed"

Well. Didn't that just turn his stomach rather unpleasantly.

"Why would someone do something like that? Like. Knowing it can't possibly work the way they want?"

Sara shrugs, holding the baby closer. "Desperate people. Sick people. They see no other option in the world, and stake their entire existence on one thing - which, even when they get it, brings them no joy in the end because they only really want what's in their head."

"I'm starting to think maybe it's a good thing to not know what else is out there," Michael mumbles.

Sara laughs. "You're just young. And if old Sarah has anything to say about it, you'll learn it whether you like it or not."

"I rightly would."

The older woman emerges from the back room of the little cottage.

She looks Michael up and down, then glances over at Marko, who's been sitting on the kitchen counter. "You boys should leave Sara here to her nursin'. Y'all take coffee? Just put the kettle on out back."

Marko glances up from fiddling around with the well-chewed strip of leather in his hands, exchanging looks with Michael, who nods.

"Sure," Marko says. "I'll take any excuse in why I'm jumping off the walls."

"You don't use excuses anyway," Michael says, following him out.

[ammyamarant]

So once, in the office, I was getting hot water for tea or coffee, I don't remember which. As you do with an office without a kettle or a dedicated hot water spout, I would fill the mug I would make my beverage in with lukewarm water and nuke it in the microwave for about two minutes.

This time, I put the mug in, pushed the buttons, and waited sleepily for the machine to go brr. But it didn't happen. Confused, I opened the door only for it to start working. I closed the door again, thinking I was just impatient today, put in the time and hit start. Nothing. So I opened the door and it started. Curious, I closed the door, and without starting it, opened the door.

Wouldn't you know it, it only worked when the door was open.

Yeah I reported that fast because all of us in that corner needed our coffee, now.

[illyaana]

Hot Chocolate - B. Katsuki

Tags: Fluff, Sweet, Husband!au, No Specific Gender for Reader

You moved around your satin sheets and turned yourself to look at the bedside table. '1 a.m., huh...' you thought to yourself as you stared at the neon green clock your husband bought. Your eyes moved to the window as you saw the pitch-black sky. Each star twinkled as it danced around the moon, basking in its endless dance floor.

Soon, you felt the comforter shuffle and an arm slung around your waist, roughly pulling you towards the middle of the bed. Your back soon met Katsuki's front. His other hand soon began to ruffle your hair, making it even messier than it was before.

"Why the fuck are you awake?" Katsuki gruffed out. "It's fucking 1 a.m."

You turned to face Bakugo. His piercing scarlet eyes hidden under his partially opened eyelids. His mouth, however, was already in a scowl, ready to snap at you.

"I don't really know why, to be honest. I can't sleep, for some absurd reason," you state.

You didn't lie. For the past few days, you've not been able to sleep one bit. It wasn't because you weren't tired. Heck, you're too tired from the work your newly-founded hero agency was giving you. The paperwork, the new staff members, the press - it seriously drained all the energy you have from the few moments you have to yourself or with Katsuki.

Suddenly, Bakugo got off the bed and headed straight to the kitchen. You could hear him boiling water thanks to that screaming kettle Aunty Inko gave you both as a housewarming gift. He soon came back in the bed with two mugs.

The smell of hot chocolate wafted throughout the whole room. The tantalizing smell allowed a small trail of drool slowly falling from the barrier that was your lips.

You got up and leaned against the bedframe, smiling widely at your husband who immediately scoffed.

"Here, dumbass," Bakugo shoved the hot mug into your hand.

“Thank you, Katsuki,” you reply as he slides back into the bed and sat beside you. 

“You remember when you did this for me? I had just started as a hero and I couldn’t even sleep,” Bakugo started. 

You were shocked that he even remembered. You were in the third year in UA when he just entered the hero scene. Under Best Jeanist’s agency and the whole fiasco at the sports festival, he was shoved into the spotlight and he really didn’t like it. 

With your parent’s approval, you managed to leave the school compound during Christmas and spend a day out with your “friends” a.k.a. spend a day at Katsuki’s apartment. You whipped up instant hot chocolate at night for him when he was going through all the documents scattered around his dining table and gave him a small massage. 

“Ever since that day, I used to always make hot chocolate when I had to pull all-nighters,” he finished. 

You moved closer to him and rested your head against his shoulder. The sweet smell of the chocolate-flavoured drink with him slowly nuzzling his head against yours was basically heaven on Earth. The comforters covering the lower half of you both as he kissed the top of your head was all you needed right now. 

“You know, you really are such an amazing person, Katsuki,” you said softly, feeling sleep slowly overtaking you. 

“I’d only do this for you, so don’t go tell everyone, okay?” he whispered in your ear. 

“Sure, I won’t,” you said, lying. 

I’m definitely telling Mina. 

Author’s note: Welp sorry for posting late but Happy Birthday, Katsuki Bakugo!

[107thbarnes]

3:15 | bucky barnes

requested: bucky x reader with glasses

summary: basically in a lookout with bucky who loves to poke fun with glasses jokes/antics

a/n: got carried away but its okay cause it’s cute,,, enjoy fellas & feedbacks are so greatly appreciated! (i wear glasses too so shoutout to everybody who needs glasses, we’re in this togetha)

—————

“You brought a book to lookout?” 

Bucky incredulously looked at you, throwing his jacket on the bed. He shrugged his shoes, still eyeing you through the book, as he shook his head in disbelief. He has just gotten back from his evening run— spying, as he surveyed the surroundings where the two of you will be stuck in for two weeks. It’s been the eighth day and you’re already bored as it is. 

Putting down the book on your stomach, as you leaned against the headboard, you tilted your head at Bucky who’s currently taking off of his shirt. Ridiculous.  The most hated habit of his from the Tower yet he brings it here. 

“I’ve got nothing else to do,” you said, crossing your legs as you chucked your book at Bucky. It hit him on his metal arm as he coincidentally turned. “Can you not also take off of your clothes when I am here?” 

“I thought you like the view?” 

“You’re lucky I don’t have another book to throw at you.” 

Bucky threw the book right at you, making you move in the bed. The action made your glasses slid down your nose partially, and you irritably pushed it back. He disappeared into the bathroom with a towel slung on his shoulder as he chuckled softly as he watched you settling against the headboard again. Sighing, you try to find where you left off before Bucky has disturbed your reading. You badly wanted to read on one side but the situation with your glasses is annoying. You know how it is when you lean on one side, your glasses move against your nose and suddenly they’re misappropriated on your face. 

Moments later, Bucky emerged from the bathroom and the steam went right through your glasses because of the small confinement. He knew how much you hated it, and that bastard walked out of the bathroom with a damn smile on his face. His hair was sticking to his face, and he bent down right across form you, making the water splash on your glasses with tiny droplets. 

“Bucky! What the fu—.”

“Language, please.” 

“I am right here!”

“Oops, didn’t see you there.”

“Oh, please!”

Bucky spent another minute drying his hair with his towel, and you’re back with the book. This is so much better than using the sniper’s lenses by the window as you tried to look for any incoming men who will do some batshit crazy things and it makes you yawn, taking out the bad guys so many times. 

“It started snowing outside, did you see?” Bucky called out as he headed towards the small kitchen to try to make some breakfast for the two of you. 

“Brr,” you shivered, following him as you sat on the table, still carrying your book. “Was it cold outside?” 

“Yes.”

He placed down two mugs on the table, and cracked some hot cocoa packets over them. While he waits for the kettle to boil, he made some sunnyside ups as he toasted slices of bread as well, because eggs and bread are the only thing left in the fridge to cook. But you’re not complaining since Bucky can cook wonderfully. Breakfast food has been his specialty for the time being. You stuck to your book, your eyes following sentence after sentence as you’re stuck in your imagining world. Bucky whistled softly as he placed down the eggs on the table, still waiting for the toast and kettle. He used this time to let you read more as he exited the kitchen to walk to the window to check some unusual activity. 

Of course, there won’t be any, I was just outside, he thought.

Bucky walked back, and once hearing his footsteps on the hardwood, you place down the book as he took the kettle off of the stove and sat across from you. He poured some hot water on yours first, then his. You twirled the cocoa around your mug, waiting for the hot steam to lessen but it was too hot and Bucky has already starting to sip some from his. 

Screw it, you thought.

You brought the mug right to your mouth, already seeing the hot steam cover your glasses and you’re annoyed, and impatient that you do not care at all. Placing down the mug, Bucky chuckled across from you as you took your glasses off and wiped them clean with your shirt. 

Classic hot steam and mug situation with glasses. Wonderful.

“Hey.” 

“What, Bucky?” 

You were too busy slicing your toast to look up from your plate but Bucky didn’t say another word, and you ignored him. 

“Hey.” 

“What.” 

“Look up.” 

“Why?” 

Silence.

“Look up.”

Putting down the knife on the plate, you rested your elbows on the table, habitually adjusting your glasses. Bucky grinned now that he has your attention, and he suddenly and stupidly lifted his arm away from his seated body and raised two fingers up. You groaned at the notion, going back to eating. 

“Look up.” 

“Fine. I’m looking up.” 

Bucky grinned. “How many fingers am I holding up?” 

You looked at his fingers, and he wiggled it. Bucky tucked in his hair that flew behind his shoulders then raised three fingers as if to fool you. He’s making a fool of himself, and you groaned playfully— equally annoyed with the person you’re stuck with. 

He used to be quiet with you, timid, now he does stuff like this. 

“None,” you deadpanned. “If you keep doing that.” 

“I still have my metal arm.” 

“Even your metal fingers.”

“But then you have to take my metal arm off to take my fingers off.” 

“What?”

“I said, you have to take my metal arm off,” he prolonged saying the off, “to take my fingers off.”

Timid. He used to timid in the beginning of this mission, and even before you were recruited in the Tower. Timid. Quiet, whenever you would pop out to get something, he would quiet down whenever he and Sam would talk. Now he’s always talking, and you want to chuck another book at him, but you like the sound of voice, the drawl of it— enough that you listen and lean back on your chair as he rolled his sleeve to show you where his metal arm is connected. 

“Uh huh,” you said, drinking your steaming cocoa. It left the steam on your glasses and you didn’t even bother removing them. 

“You have to wipe your glasses so you could see.” 

“I’m good, so I don’t have to look at you anymore.” 

“Jackass.” 

“Language!”

When the steam disappeared on its own, you blinked rapidly with a smile on your face as you were met with Bucky’s self. He was wolfing down on his plate, leaving you almost no sunnyside up and you grabbed it away from him before he could even finish it.

“Hey! Leave some for me.” 

“Then cook some more.”

You soften as Bucky grabbed the plate from you, splitting the remaining food into halves. “I like it when you cook it,” you whispered, ever so softly as you put the egg on top of your toast. 

Bucky stopped chewing, his bread halfway through to meet his mouth. Slowly, he put down his toast, looking at the egg on top of his, and he cleared his throat. He removed it and slid it on your plate, and you grinned. 

“Gotcha,” you smiled, chewing on your food as Bucky leaned on his chair with his arms crossed. He watched you eat as he finished his own and wiped his mouth. He tilted his head, watching you wolf down— you didn’t realise you were that hungry. 

“Jackass.” 

After dinner, Bucky took the chair by the window joining you, as you peep through the dark. Steve called in earlier for updates but there wasn’t so now you’re back to surveying the night through the glass. Bucky reached for the book on your lap, his metal hand touching your thigh and you shivered instantly on his touch. It was extra cold tonight, it was snowing, the winds outside were no match for the thin walls, and the heater is semi-broken with all the loud creaking. When he saw you shivered, Bucky tensed up.

“Are you cold?” 

From his touch. 

Your thoughts went down to where it doesn’t and shouldn’t go— thoughts of how it feels underneath that metal hand of his, how it feels, the sensation of cold, and you shivered some more— “No,” you said, peeping again on the sniper. 

“You can use my jacket by the bed if you need more heat,” he offered, skimming past pages of your book. He reached the back of the book, and he skimmed over the summary. When he was finished, he placed down the book on your lap— and it happened again, that you just fake yawned to get away from this situation. “Seriously, use my jacket if you’re too cold.”

You knew he would persistent on things like this, so instead of refusing, you just stood up and reached the jacket from the bed. It still smelled like him, musky— and you breathed it in. For the past eight days when he would join you in the joint bed in the lookout apartment, it has been your favorite scent. It smells comforting. 

Eight days in— maybe even longer, back in the tower and it has got you reeling in for some of his smell. 

And touches.

You groaned, zipping up his jacket. He turned his head towards you, and looked concerned. “You okay?” 

“Yeah,” you lied, rolling up the longer sleeves over your wrist. What were you supposed to say? Hey, I was thinking of your smell— I love it, you thought. “Just a little headache.” 

“Go to bed then,” he offered again, switching from his chair to the one you just moved from, “I’ll be the lookout tonight.” 

“But you were the lookout last night,” you rambled on, sitting down on his chair. “I can do this.” 

“No good if you can’t concentrate with that headache,” Bucky persisted, looking at you. He leaned on the chair, tucking his hair behind his ear— and his metal arm glinted, God. “Go to bed.” 

No use in arguing with this man. 

“Let me read some more then,” you whispered as you padded towards the bed. You were thankful that it wasn’t as small as you thought it was. 

Although some mornings you would feel half of his body on yours and blankets would be tangled between the arms and legs, and you had to shove him off of you to breathe but he would still continue to doze off. 

“Don’t hog my blanket.” 

“I don’t hog the blanket.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Uh huh— whatever.”

Bucky watched you settle on your side of the bed as you opened your book. He found it cute whenever you would push up your glasses every now and then— but of course he wouldn’t want to admit it because Sam would ask always how and why he would’ve known. It would just end with Sam running around the tower, screaming at the top of his lungs, that Bucky— he has got some feelings, basically got his eyes on you. 

He also didn’t want to admit how his jacket looks good on you. 

Shaking his head, he realized how this mission is actually going to kill his heart if he has to spend anymore days with you. He cannot handle how much he has changed when talking to you— it makes him even nervous. 

To get his mind clean off of you, he attempted to clean his combat knives with the soft turning of pages in the background. Nothing was happening outside yet he still needed to be on the lookout just to be sure. Some time he would find himself glancing at you while you read with a sigh of contentment on your lips as you would turn another page. He went back to cleaning, listening to the turning of pages. 

Hours later, he heard nothing as it quieted down in the lookout apartment, except from the bustle from upstairs and down the road. It is past three in the morning. He glanced at the bed, and at your figure as you laid sideways. He found himself abandoning the chair, and padded towards you. He made sure his steps were silent aside from the creaking of it, as he turned to the side of your bed. He noticed you snoring softly, with hands on the book, and a crooked glasses on top of your nose. 

He chuckled, it was cute.

He started to reach out to wake you up but he fought against.

“Hey,” 

“Hey,” 

“Hey,” he said softly, as you twitched in your sleep. 

Silence. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” he whispered as he bent down. 

He watched your hair fall over your face as you nuzzled deeper into your pillow, and he stopped in his tracks. Suddenly, he doesn’t want to wake you up. 

So he did his best not to. His fingers slid through your face as he gingerly reaches out for your glasses, so you wouldn’t sleep on it. The last thing he wants for you is to have a broken pair of glasses. Then he tucked your hair behind your ear and reached for the book. He’s got to lift your fingers off of the hardbound book— and your fingers were soft, smaller than his, and he smiled softly at that thought, the thought of you. His heart is doing a marathon beating with nervousness and of you. When he succeeded in taking off of your book, he watched you bundle your hands up with the blankets. 

“You hog the blankets, sweetheart.”

[rwby-banter]

Velvet: Brr, it's so cold today! *hugs herself and shivers*

Yatsuhashi: I know- I'm going to make some tea to help me warm up. Would you like a cup?

Velvet: Actually, I could really use some hot cocoa, if we have some.

Coco: *bursts into the room and slides in front of Velvet, lowering her sunglasses while she cocks an eyebrow* Did someone call me?

Velvet: *laughs* I meant the drink, Coco- it's freezing in here.

Coco: Oh, don't worry, Vel- I could heat things right up. *winks at Velvet* If you know what I'm talking about.

Velvet: *turns bright red and hides her face in the blanket she has draped over herself* ... Put the kettle on, Yatsu.

Yatsuhashi: *shakes his head and chuckles as Coco makes obscene hand/mouth gestures* Sure thing.

[czarsstar]

Velvet: Brr, it's so cold today! *hugs herself and shivers*

Yatsuhashi: I know- I'm going to make some tea to help me warm up. Would you like a cup?

Velvet: Actually, I could really use some hot cocoa, if we have some.

Coco: *bursts into the room and slides in front of Velvet, lowering her sunglasses while she cocks an eyebrow* Did someone call me?

Velvet: *laughs* I meant the drink, Coco- it's freezing in here.

Coco: Oh, don't worry, Vel- I could heat things right up. *winks at Velvet* If you know what I'm talking about.

Velvet: *turns bright red and hides her face in the blanket she has draped over herself* ... Put the kettle on, Yatsu.

Yatsuhashi: *shakes his head and chuckles as Coco makes obscene hand/mouth gestures* Sure thing.

[mitchascottcranier]

Velvet: Brr, it's so cold today! *hugs herself and shivers*

Yatsuhashi: I know- I'm going to make some tea to help me warm up. Would you like a cup?

Velvet: Actually, I could really use some hot cocoa, if we have some.

Coco: *bursts into the room and slides in front of Velvet, lowering her sunglasses while she cocks an eyebrow* Did someone call me?

Velvet: *laughs* I meant the drink, Coco- it's freezing in here.

Coco: Oh, don't worry, Vel- I could heat things right up. *winks at Velvet* If you know what I'm talking about.

Velvet: *turns bright red and hides her face in the blanket she has draped over herself* ... Put the kettle on, Yatsu.

Yatsuhashi: *shakes his head and chuckles as Coco makes obscene hand/mouth gestures* Sure thing.