#otp: frosted cookie

[me-myself-and-my-fos]

Bernard is not very happy with me because the girls were watching Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer after I put it on for them while I bake, and they watched the part with ‘why weren’t you at elf practice?!’ and they’ve just been saying that throughout the house for the last few hours and many times it’s directed at him and he’s two seconds away from pulling his hair out

[cocobnuuy]

karin x frosted sugar cookie my new otp

pic of her nomming the cookie separated from the rest is under the cut

ughhhshhjshfsjhd ._.

Small edit: inspired by this of course

[anonymous-pod1]

H elp i keep shipping them skdjsadj

[dont-call-my-name-alejandro]

Winter Otp Prompts ☃️

A waking up and noticing that B isn’t in bed with them, so they start looking around the house before finally spotting them outside the window, seeing them playing in the fresh snow.

A, the taller one, holding up B so B can add a decoration they wanted to put up higher on the tree.

A and B cuddling under their fluffiest blanket, sipping hot cocoa in a comfortable silence infront of the fireplace.

A and B are having a snowman competition when B “accidentally” decapitates A’s snowman with a kick to the snowface. For some reason, B didn’t expect to be pelted with snowballs by A after the incident.

A and B are decorating their christmas cookies when A’s piping bag bursts open, the frosting ruining the cookie A was decorating.

“This isn’t funny, B. I ruined my cookie.”

[Talking through their laughter] “at least.. you can’t see the ugly face you drew on it earlier-”

A frosting battle suddenly begins.

[the-iceni-bitch]

Baking Cookies

Ninja and Puppy’s First Christmas

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x fem!reader (OTP ninja and puppy)

Words: ~700

Summary: Ransom adds a special ingredient to your Christmas cookies

Warnings: explicit language, mentions of male masturbation, inappropriate additions to established recipes, almost non consensual consumption of ejaculate, 18+ ONLY!!!

A/N: He’s such a little shit, you guys. I love him.

I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on all the latest filth, follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!

“You look awful good bending over that oven, babe.” Ransom bit his lip as he stared at your ass while you pulled the gingerbread cookies out of the oven, shrugging at you when you shot him a mild glare as you set them on the cooling rack. “What? You get all glowy and cute and that little lock of hair falls into your face, makes me want to fuck you right on the counter.”

“Oh my god, you fucking sap.” You shook your head as you walked towards him, bumping his shoulder with yours and setting the oven mitts on the counter as you watched him stir. “How’s the icing coming?”

“Oh, it’s great.” You missed his mischievous grin as you peeked over his shoulder to watch him work. “You wanna taste?”

“Yeah, gimme.” You opened your mouth when he dipped his finger in the icing, humming when he slid it between your lips and the taste covered your tongue. “Mm, that’s good. Did you follow the recipe? It tastes different.”

“Mostly followed it, I did add my own special ingredient though.” He bent to nuzzle at your hair as he wound an arm around your waist while you dipped your finger in the icing again. “Can you guess what it is?”

“I dunno, salt?” You gave him a curious stare as he just shook his head at you and gave you a very pleased grin. “Some sort of dairy? It’s thicker than normal.”

“Well, it is creamy.” He winked at you when your movements froze and your eyes narrowed at him.

“You perv, oh my god.” You slapped his chest as he let out a cackle, grabbing the bowl from him and setting it on the counter while you frowned at him. “I can’t believe you put cum in my frosting!”

“You said it tasted good!” He spluttered when you started beating him with the oven mitts, grabbing you around the waist and picking you up so he could pepper your face with kisses while you cursed at him. “You fucking love my cum.”

“Yeah, I guess, next time ask.” You huffed when he set you on the counter, dipping your finger in the icing and smearing it over his lips before kissing it off. “You only put it in this batch though, right?”

“Nope, it’s in every batch.” His grin froze when you gave him a horrified look. “What?”

“Oh my god, the charity.” You shoved him off you and scrambled to grab your phone. “Tucker picked up the gingerbread house I made for the charity an hour ago. I have to call before someone eats it.”

“Your handsy assistant was here?” Ransom snorted when you scowled at him as you dialed your phone. “Where was I?”

“Probably jerking off into my food, Helen!” You let out a relieved breath when your HR director picked up the phone. “Tell me no one has eaten the gingerbread house I sent over. Fantastic. Um, the boyfriend was helping me bake this year and, just, bless his heart, he didn’t realize the house was for consumption and put glue in the icing. I know! Good thing he’s pretty, huh?”

Ransom frowned as you chatted with your coworker, pouting when you gave him the murder glare and pinching at the hem of your sweater to try to get you to pay attention to him again. You let him curl around your back and nuzzle into your hair as you finished up, doing your best to stay annoyed, but he was kissing your neck and murmuring softly in your ear and that made it a little hard.

“I’m sorry I almost made your coworkers eat my cum.” He nibbled on your ear when you finally hung up, sliding his hands up to cup your breasts as you let out a deep sigh.

“I forgive you. But between this and eating me out in my office without locking the door, you’re going to end up getting me sued for sexual harassment.” You tilted your head to the side so he could lick a stripe up your neck.

“Don’t worry about it, I have a good lawyer.”

[universallywriting]

Excuse ma'am, but your fic are good? If you like writing timebomb, can we have one for them with 28. Sugar and Spice and 19. Stockings? Or maybe 10. 'We need to hurry' idk i just love your writing --

I'm actually nonbinary, so I prefer no gendered terms! But thank you, and yeah, I can do that. Prompts referenced here:

https://lavenderotpprompts.tumblr.com/post/669294515109167104/december-otp-prompts

-----------

Jinx was in a heavy fur coat, stockings, and twirling around Lady Abraham's mansion with a massive bag of frosted gingerbread cookies. Ekko was prepared to discover a lot of things on his mission today, but this still came as a surprise.

"Uh...?" He took off his mask, raising an eyebrow as he looked her up and down. "Am I interrupting something?"

She threw her arms out wide with a manic smile. "Ekko! Welcome. I hope you're enjoying this jolly winter season. Cookie?"

Jinx offered the bag to him, dangling it temptingly in the air, and he ignored it, scanning the room for anything that might have been a bomb. "Are you here for the flux dampener?"

"Please," she scoffed and rolled her eyes. "I've got a dozen better ones at home."

"Then why are you here?"

She jiggled the cookie bag, spinning it around so he could read the front. He didn't know the brand, other than it was something that had been imported from Bilgewater. She offered him one, wordless with a little quirk of her eyebrow.

He didn't really care about the cookies supply of a rich weapons dealer, so he took one and prowled the luxurious bedroom. Spice and sweetness dances across his tongue, and he could see why she'd come all this way for a taste.

"Thanks," he said around a mouthful. He pointed a finger at her, a quick up and down. "What's with the outfit?"

"I wanted to feel pretty." She twirled with a flutter of her eyes.

"Best resale value?"

"A girls' gotta eat, Ekko!"

He didn't really care about her stealing either - not the cookies, or the coat, or the stocking, or whatever else she stashed away. He wouldn't sit idly by when there were bombs around, but Lady Abraham dealt weapons. Jinx could take whatever she wanted from the bitch. He wasn't going to complain.

"You're pretty," he said. Not flirting, just casual. Friendly. He continued, "Prettier if you didn't blow up cops, but..."

She looked at him sideways. "I think I'm prettiest blowing up cops."

Jinx pushed another cookie into his hand, a sweet and spicy heart as she skipped past him. She hopped up onto the balcony railing, looking around to make sure the coast was clear, before telling him, "The flux dampener is in the atrium. Still wrapped up. Happy hunting, Hero."

She wiggled her fingers, absolutely ridiculous with a cookie between her lips and the heavy fur coat and the stockings that would surely rip before she made it home. She rolled backwards, like a diver off a boat, and she was gone.

He ate his cookie and headed to the atrium. Happy hunting.

[charlottecbordeaux]

Recently my grandma died and I was need of something to heal myself with since having two family members gone within a month was too much.

I’m doing fine now but everything is still bitter and I’m not doing well when looking at other ship art than my otp. Not to mention that losing followers on my main twitter has got into me.

But I kinda wanted to post this up somewhere since I thought it looked nice enough to share.

Warning tho. Canon/OC (Almond/Marigold)

(PlzgivemeOTPfluffimdeadinside-(

[First cuddles]

A: -not looking up from his newspaper- Marigold.

M: -Was dusting off the shelves- Y-Yes Mr.Almond Cookie?

A: I was wondering… Ya wanna sleep together tonight?

M: …!?

A: We’ve been officially dating and being together for a few months now. I was wondering if… Ya know. Maybe we could… Um… -blushes and scratches his head- … Cuddle in bed?

M: -starts to blush as red as a tomato- Wha- UM. -fidgets with fingers-

Almond: …

M: B-But when I s-sleep flowers grow and, and, I get get n-nightmares, I might snore, I-I um, Uhhh-

A: You don’t snore Marigold, and if ya did I wouldn’t mind anyway. Same goes with the flowers.

-Almond stands up and walks towards Marigold. He embraces her from behind and wraps his arms around her-

A: As for the nightmares… If ya get any I’ll be right beside you when you wake up from them. -pecks a kiss on Marigold’s cheek- So what’d ya say?

M: -looks down still blushing- O-okay…

[Night]

M: -sits on the bed holding onto her nightgown tightly as her face glows red-

A: -comes in the room- Sorry, Walnut got out for a glass of water- -looks at Marigold- Ya know you don’t need to be that nervous.

M: I-I’m sorry…! I-I-I just, t-this is my first time doing something l-like this.

A: (Actually this is our 2nd time-) Relax. It’s not like I’m going to do an interrogation on you or anything… -slides into bed behind Marigold- I just want to be with you, that’s all.

M: -blushes more red-

A: -beckons Marigold to come in bed next to him-

M: -starts to walk over to the opposite side and slides into bed next to him-

A: -gently pulls Marigold closer to him and hugs her close-

M: -Blushes more red as she finds herself in his chest-

A: Mmm… There we go.

-Almond nuzzles his face to Marigold’s gold frosting hair, taking in the faint sent of marigold flowers in him. Then he looks down to Marigold softy kisses her forehead.-

M: -holds onto Almond as she takes Almond’s affection in-

A: -chuckles at the blushing cookie at his chest- … Cute.

M: !////

A: -laughs out-

M: -hides her face into his chest and hugs him back a bit-

A: I guess it’ll take a bit of more time till you get used to this huh Mari?

M: -nods but freezes- M-Mari…?

A: Ah- Um, I hope ya don’t mind me putting a pet name on you.

M: Pet….??

A: It’s something someone uses on someone they love. Since your Marigold I was thinking if I could call you Mari when it’s only us… To make it special.

M: Ah…

A: If you don’t like it I can stop-

M: No no! I- I’m okay… I, um… -blushes again and hides her face- I never had anyone call me like that before… I think it’s nice Mr. Almond Cookie…

A: -smiles and kisses Mari’s head- Glad you like it love.

M: (L-love…) -blushes more-

A: … Mari.

M: Yes?

A: I want you to call me by my name for now on.

M: But I call you by your name?

A: What I mean is I want you to call me “Almond”. Just “Almond”.

M: -starts to blush more- A-Almond only…?

A: Yeah.

M: ….

-Marigold blushes and looks away for a bit. After taking a deep breath she opened her mouth a bit to say her lovers name-

M: A… Almond… Cookie.

A: -smiles- Can ya say it one more time? Without “Cookie”

M: A-Almond…

A: Again. -starts to slide his hands over her back-

M: Almond

A: -smiles- Yeah, just like that.

M: -smiles back sheepishly-

A: Mari…

-Almond holds Marigold’s face and strokes it with his thumb before leaning into her for a loving kiss to her lips. Marigold kisses him back, as she does some flowers start to sprout from the bed.-

M: S-sorry Mr. Almond-

A: -Ahem-

M: Ah-

A: Mari?

M: Almond… -blushes-

A: -smiles and gives her another kiss- There we go…

-The two smile and hug each other close-

(If your wondering when was the first time they slept together it was the time Marigold attempted suicide. Almond managed to stop her from crumbling herself up in the sea while also confessing his feelings to her. After a while they went back to his house by car. Marigold fell asleep in the car so Almond carried her up her room. When he set her down on the bed and started to leave he noticed that Marigold was holding onto him so he decided to sleep next to her.)

[j0ur3nys-3nd]

The character thing.

Thoughts on cotton cookie?

Favorite thing about her: She is a SHEPARD!!! SHEEP!!!

Least favorite thing about her: She forgets about Sherbert (I think)

Favorite line: "I'll protect you! See this staff? I will stop anyone!" (WORDS BEFORE DISATER)

BROTP: Snow sugar and Cotton (Them!!)

OTP: None (I would say Shebert x Cotton, but yeah)

NOTP: Frost queen x Cotton (NO)

Random headcanon: Her, Snow sugar, Kumiho and Frost queen are a family

Unpopular opinion: She has sepreation anixtey

Song I associate her with: "Breezeblocks" - alt-J

Favorite picture of them:

Cry

[hihimissamericanbi]

The Watcher and the Dancer

Rating: T

Pairing: F/F

Relationship: James/Sirius

Wordcount: 9,857k

Summary: Walburga was still talking too loudly, unaware her eldest daughter had paused her Fall Out Boy playlist minutes ago, but Siri did nothing to disabuse her. She wanted to exist in a few more moments of precious liminality, fraught with fragile expectation: the “before” of a summer vacation, dreaming of memories caressed like worn sea glass before having to go and actually break the bottles that make them.

AKA: Dreamy sapphic summer crush fic set in New England in the aughts with a side of sister feels

Notes: Hi! Hello! I am old and don't know how to use Tumblr at all but decided to try to post this here while I wait to join AO3? For context: Wolfstar is OTP but I wrote this with OCs originally (like not as a marauders fic), then decided it could work as Prongsfoot so I made some tweaks and here we are. Fem Siri and Jamie because it's my fic and I said so. Based on my experiences so please be nice? Also kind of my love letter to Maine. Promise to write Wolfstar and Jegulus in the future, as it should be (actually, very big believer in Jegulily, might do that first...)

--

So wear me like a locket around your throat, I’ll weigh you down, I’ll watch you choke, you look so good in bl—

Siri paused her pink iPod mini as she felt the rental car slowly swing off the paved road and decelerate onto a bumpy dirt path, dusty granite crunching beneath tires while low-hanging birch boughs screeched against the windows.

“Alright everyone, electronics away, we are almost there!” Walburga yelled unnaturally loud from the front. Siri winced but didn’t say anything. Leaning against a pillow on the window opposite her, Regina blinked her eyes open and frowned. Red patches flushed high on her pale, nap-creased cheeks as she wiped a bit of dried drool from her chin with the heel of her palm. Siri snorted. Regina flicked her off, holding her hand down low so their mom couldn’t see in the rearview.

Siri rolled her eyes and returned her gaze to the window, where the trees were thinning to make way for one of the strangest views she had ever seen.

Life-sized gingerbread cottages, painted pale gumdrop colors and trimmed with lacey eves reminiscent of piped frosting, lined the street one after the other like tin soldiers in an old-fashioned Christmas movie. They stood sentry to welcome the Black family forward, Range Rover groaning as it crested the pebbled hill, Dorothy stepping from her black-and-white world into a sugar-bright alternate universe. Just beyond the houses, the Penobscot Bay shimmered blue and magical; it winked at Siri between each latticed cornice and Victorian spire as the car trundled bravely onward, following the gray-gravel road deeper and deeper into the Azure City.

“Welcome to Bayville, girls. Your father and I trust you both will be on your best behavior, and that you will remember you are young ladies. We are taking you on this very nice, very expensive vacation; we expect you to act accordingly.”

Walburga was still talking too loudly, unaware her eldest daughter had paused her Fall Out Boy playlist minutes ago, but Siri did nothing to disabuse her. She wanted to exist in a few more moments of precious liminality, fraught with fragile expectation: the “before” of a summer vacation, dreaming of memories caressed like worn sea glass before having to go and actually break the bottles that make them.

“Do I hear a ‘Yes, ma’am?’”

Siri physically startled at the warning tone in her mother’s voice. She and her sister chorused the required reply automatically.

The car squelched to a halt alongside one of the cookie-cutter dollhouses, patchy green grass muffling under tire treads. Siri took her headphones off and reached for her seatbelt; chipped silver nail polish flashed in the afternoon sun as she unclipped the buckle, and she made a mental note to redo her nails tonight before her mother saw.

She took a deep breath and opened the car door.

And oh, the smell; it wasn’t like anything she had ever experienced. It wasn’t just briny ocean and wet grass and fallen pine. It wasn’t just heady florals and baked limestone and fecund soil. This scent was far greater than the sum of its parts: stirred up in a summer-sun cauldron and poured out across the coast, it smelled like familiar laughter and promises to be kept.

It filled Siri’s nose and lungs only after it filled her heart.

It would be remembered for the rest of her life.

--

After claiming the upstairs room to the front of the little house, with a window box full of geraniums peeking from behind billowing white curtains, Siri found herself wandering down the main road, away from her father’s loud complaints about a lack of cell service for his Blackberry and her mother’s backhanded comments regarding the cleanliness of the cottage. She wanted to be long gone by the time either of them decided to turn their attention to her.

Regina tagged along. Siri ignored her.

Less than a quarter of a mile later, the knot of strange little cottages leftover from a different century opened into a semicircle, proudly overlooking a sailboat polka-dotted bay where sapphire waters faithfully reflected the cloud-clear sky.

The Black sisters stood on Bayville Beach, such as it was, only about 30 yards wide and covered in rocky pebbles turning to treacherous boulders. Primary-colored canoes and kayaks were tied up along the mouth like obedient Labradors, waiting for their masters to take them for a swim. A dock rose to the right and jutted out into the water; a cerulean-painted covering sat square in the middle of the old wooden planks. To the right of that, a tiny yacht club perched on the cusp of the ocean, triangular emblem flown modestly above the slated roof. Behind the sisters, a sloping center lawn with a few ancient oak trees and wrought-iron park benches guided vacationers down towards the water, verdant arms swept wide, beckoning, those cotton candy cottages lining the edges like flagstones.

With a toss of her dark wavy hair, frizzing fast in the ocean breeze despite the John Frieda serums and mousses with which she had diligently coated the strands, Siri hopped up onto one of the bigger rocks along the beach and picked her way across the shore. She held her arms aloft for balance, paying special care not to slip. Tiny crabs skuttled within sunken tidepools; salted kelp rocked back and forth with the waves. The fabled Maine sun caught on the edges of everything, lighting up the cove like a glittery disco. She could hear Regina whining warnings from the safety of dry land. Siri ignored her.

When Siri got as far as she could before the shoreline sheared off into untamed wilderness, she turned carefully, Rainbow flip flops catching on the occasional barnacle, and made her way back to her little sister. She was almost to the beach before she looked up.

On the path behind Regina, appearing from behind the blue structure in the middle of the dock, were a group of teenagers making their way up the grassy hill. They were in various states of swimwear; boys with baggy trunks and loose tee shirts, dampened in places by saltwater clinging to not-fully-dried skin, girls largely in cutoff jean shorts and bikini tops. All had beach towels around their necks and were laughing loudly.

Regina whipped her head around at the commotion and stared. Siri felt her cheeks flush; she was perched precariously on a boulder several feet from land, suddenly faced with a bunch of unknown peers. From behind Regina’s mop of raven curls, longer and fluffier than her own, Siri locked eyes with the tallest of the pack, a pretty girl who looked about Siri’s age, black hair piled high in a messy bun.

The girl flashed a criminally blinding grin and waved. Siri startled and snapped her eyes away.

The sudden movement caused Siri to lose her footing. She scraped her ankle on the rough granite as she stumbled ungracefully off the rock into the shallow water.

Regina laughed. Siri ignored her.

--

Two days later, and Siri was bored. The rain arrived in Bayville almost as soon as her family had, crowding out the finnicky northern sun with dull clouds and a frustratingly steady drizzle. There was only so much War and Go Fish a rising junior could play with her eighth grade sister before one became a sore loser (eighth grader) and the other got hangry (take a wild guess). So now, Siri was sitting on the front porch, stomach growling, watching the rain muddy up the gravel while pretending to do her summer reading. Huckleberry Finn. It was brutal.

Siri perked up at the tell-tale crunch of a car about to pass slowly in front of their rented cottage; honestly, she was like a dog left home alone, staring out at the street, desperate for any stimulation. The car in question pulled into view from the left, heading in the direction of town. It was a beat-up black SUV, rap music thumping over the drone of the rain. As Siri watched, a pretty face with a mess of black hair and oversized glasses appeared in the front passenger window. The face saw Siri and did a double take, craning her neck to keep Siri in her vision as the car went by.

“Young lady, what do you think you are you doing?” Walburga stuck her immaculately coiffed head out of the screen door. Her pink lipstick shone lurid in the overcast light. “Come inside before your hair is ruined.”

Siri blinked, closed her mouth. “Yes, momma.”

For the next three days, the pretty girl with the wild hair could be seen passing the cottage on a morning run. For the next three days, Siri sat on the porch to eat her breakfast, Huckleberry Finn laying uselessly on the side table.

--

Jamie Potter, Siri would soon learn, was the owner of the pretty face and the blinding smile and the morning runs that happened to take her past the Blacks’ cottage.

Almost a week into their stay, Siri was once again sitting on the front porch, sipping her coffee and pretending to read. The sun had mercifully returned; she and Regina had spent some time exploring, wearing swimsuits underneath shorts and tee shirts, venturing to the beach or the dock or the little corner store out by Route 1, faded sign reading “Cote’s Old-Fashioned Ice Cream and Burgers” hung reverently against Nantucket red siding. They had seen the group of teenagers here and there, sunbathing on the dock and flirting shamelessly with the college-aged lifeguard, or gearing up outside the yacht club for a sail, or playing basketball on the courts near the central lawn after dinner. The tall, pretty girl seemed to always be in the very middle, laughing the loudest, touching the most. Like she was the sun their little social circle revolved around. Siri had watched the group hungrily, desperate to be included but far too terrified to make any moves. Regina, meanwhile, was too caught up in having her big sister all to herself to much care about hanging around even more moony high schoolers.

Siri took another gulp of coffee and watched the morning sun catch on the graveled hill, flecks of mica sparkling beneath lingering dew. She imagined a dark ponytail swinging into view from over the crest, followed by long, powerful legs, propelling their body impressively up the incline. Then, she wasn’t imagining it; she was watching it.

Only this time, the powerful legs slowed and the girl trotted to a walk, breathing hard. A hand reached up under the hem of her tee shirt, stopping at the waistband of rolled Soffe shorts to pause the iPod Shuffle clipped there, flashing a sliver of tan skin in the process; her other hand tugged out her headphones.

Siri immediately looked down and picked up her book, not wanting to embarrass herself by inviting any sort of acknowledgement of her existence. She could feel her face turning red and her pulse picking up.

“Hey!”

Siri continued to pretend to read. There was no way this girl was actually calling to Siri.

“Hey!!”

Siri looked up with a start. Fuck. The girl was leaning over the railing of the porch, grinning right at her. It wasn’t entirely innocent, somehow.

“Hey,” Siri choked out. How were this girl’s teeth so white?

“You’re new this year, right?”

Siri’s vision was tunnelling; she was having a hard time processing the girl’s words. She wished she would stop blushing.

“Sorry?”

The girl seemed to smile even more at Siri’s confusion. It made her deep rosy flush from exercise pop beneath her complexion.

“It’s just, we’ve been seeing you around, but no one knows who you are—”

No no no no no people have been noticing her?!

“—and you haven’t come said hi.”

Siri was going to die, simply pass away from embarrassment. “Um, no, yeah, I mean, we haven’t been here before…um, so…” Siri barely remembered to smile. It probably looked more like a grimace.

“Exactly!” The girl’s eyes narrowed playfully. They were dark brown and incredibly expressive. “I would definitely remember if I had seen you before.”

Siri wasn’t sure what that meant, but the girl didn’t pause long enough for her to work it out.

“Don’t you want to hang out with us?” The girl craned her neck and leaned farther over the railing, peering into Siri’s lap where her book split open, still on page 10. Siri could pick up the fruity scent of her deodorant. The girl’s eyes flicked back up to Siri’s. “Or do you want to sit and read…"

“…Huckleberry Finn.”

“Yikes.” The girl’s teasing smile was replaced with a look of horror.

“I know.” Siri felt her mouth relax a little, a small quirk of her lips.

The girl shook her head, like a buck huffing in annoyance, bordering aggression. She cracked her knuckles, continued. “…Or do you want to sit and read books by dead white guys on your porch all summer.” It wasn’t said like a question.

“Um. Okay?”

“Okay what?” She was bouncing up and down on her toes, hunched over the porch railing. Sunkissed shoulders poking up from rolled tee shirt sleeves. Deep-sea dark eyes boring into dawning-sky gray.

“I—” This girl was very disorienting. “Sure. Let’s hang out.”

The girl’s face split back into a grin, like that was its natural state. Though her cheeks were made round and even more rosy by the smile, her eyes didn’t crinkle with it the way most people’s do, Siri thought.

“I’m Jamie.”

They stayed sharp and honed.

--

Siri’s summer looked very different after that. Following her introduction, Jamie Potter had promptly asked for Siri’s cell phone number (written on Jamie’s inner forearm with a sharpie Siri found in the little kitchen) and told her “they were having a dock day, after sailing,” whatever that meant. But Siri had agreed to meet outside the yacht club at 1pm that afternoon, promising to bring snacks and a moderately-behaved thirteen-year-old.

“Dock days,” as it turned out, consisted of spreading towels on the far side of the dock, behind the little blue gazebo (every square inch of which, upon closer inspection, was covered in scrawled names, dates, hearts and the like: a living history of summer lovin’), and eating chips and salsa while soaking up temporal sunbeams and wearing as little clothing as possible. Flirting was a prerequisite, Siri had gathered from her week-long observations from afar, but there wasn’t much of anyone she felt the need to devote such attention to. She was thrilled just being included, happy to sit quietly on her hibiscus-printed towel and follow Jamie’s cues, laughing at the right places and inserting a quick one-liner here and there where she felt confident enough to deliver.

The group ranged in age, which gave Regina a few peers to talk to while Siri fell into Jamie’s orbit. Jamie was a year older than Siri and had her childhood best friends Remus and Peter staying with her (“Their families ship them off to Maine with us every summer. They are a pain in my ass—ow! hey—but I love them.”). Then there were the twins, Gillian and Fabian, also a year older than Siri, then Tuney and her little cousin Lucy, who were a couple years younger. Tuney’s older sister, Lily, was away at some competitive chemistry program for the summer, and apparently things were much more subdued this year without her around to get everyone into trouble.

“The definition of chaotic evil,” Jamie had explained with a twinkle in her eye and a faraway grin tugging her lips. Siri was glad Lily wasn’t here this season, but she wasn’t sure why. Probably just because she didn’t like getting into trouble—at least anywhere her mother might find out.

Siri soon learned the ins and outs of the little group that pulsed the beating heart of the magical seaside village. Most had been coming here every summer since they were little, growing up on bowline knots and July sparklers and Gifford’s blueberry ice cream. They had a hearty skepticism for “renters,” as they called them: part-time vacationers who came and went without getting much involved in the community. When Siri had asked why they had befriended her, since she was a “renter,” the boys had looked away sheepishly and Jamie had scoffed. “Please,” she had said, bumping her bare shoulder into Siri’s, “Like my idiot brothers-from-another-mother would ever forgive me if I didn’t introduce you.” Remus and Peter had turned bright red and then shoved a cackling Jamie, whereas Fabian had met Siri’s gaze, unashamed, and smirked. Siri hadn’t known how to react, besides blush furiously. Were they making fun of her? She felt rather exposed. Regina had squeezed her hand protectively. Siri had squeezed it back.

By this point, Siri had already analyzed everyone’s physical shapes and quirks in comparison to her own, a foible of adolescence she couldn’t wait to grow out of. She tanned easily and had a flat stomach, badges of pride for any teenager under the tyranny of Laguna Beach and Abercrombie, but she was self-conscious about her small chest, wide hips and unshapely legs. Jamie was a star athlete back home in Massachusetts, championing in soccer and tennis, and was lean and strong, everywhere. Siri envied the way she filled out her bikini top during the day and her low-rise jeans at night.

Siri’s hair was rather untamable (“Mia Thermopolis hair”, the other cheerleaders called it), especially in the humid sea air, and never dried soft and silky like the most popular girls’ seemed to. Jamie’s hair was a paragon of that effortlessly messy look: never frizzy, but piece-y and wavy, jet-black with shots of caramel laced through from days in the sun, it reached passed her shoulder blades even when pulled into a high ponytail. Siri would discover she loved playing with it, braiding its dampened ends while Jamie lay on her stomach on the dock, water droplets sliding down the soft skin of her back, or gently brushing it out after a day of sailing, working through the knots with careful fingers.

Then there was Siri’s face. People commented on Siri’s face a lot. She generally refused to leave the house without makeup on, and had even packed waterproof formulas for this vacation. None of the other girls in Bayville seemed to wear makeup.

Siri wondered how they still looked so pretty.

She wondered why Fabian was looking at her like that.

--

Dock days turned into movie nights and lunches at Cote’s, which turned into card games on front porches and excursions to the Coffee Pot in town for “Potts” sandwiches, a play on Jamie’s last name that seemed to have existed longer than some of their younger siblings had been alive. Siri couldn’t believe that not only had she been included in this tight-knit group who were so wary of outsiders, but that their central star paid so much attention to her. Jamie, as the leader, was the one who texted Siri when plans for an adventure were being made to ensure sure she didn’t get left out. She always spread her towel next to Siri’s, yellow stripes beside pink and orange flowers, and was the first to whisper jokes and confidences into her ear. She made sure to get an extra side of ketchup in addition to her mayonnaise—“Mayonnaise is white people’s greatest invention, I’m telling you,” she would say, while mixing in pinches of extremely hot spices she kept tucked away in her bag for such occasions—when she ordered fries, in case Siri wanted some, and punched the boys wordlessly when they inevitably crossed the line (which was about seven times a day).

They took Fabian’s battered SUV inland to go blueberry picking, blasting Panic! At the Disco and Kelly Clarkson and singing along with the windows down. Despite their parents’ explicit instructions to collect more than they ate, they spent most of their time horsing around in that green-and-gold field, sated with fruit, laughing freely and dreaming loudly beneath a buttercup sun and bluebird sky.

Predictably, Fabian got bored and started throwing blueberries at Siri. Jamie got irrationally irate every time he did so, eventually turning it into a competition to pelt him with as many blueberries as possible in return. Somehow that turned into an argument over who was taller; Fabian was also athletic and played lacrosse, but was on the shorter side for a guy. Jamie insisted they go back-to-back and demanded Siri be the judge. Siri felt uncomfortable for some reason, but acquiesced. Jamie’s sparked eyes stayed trained on Siri the entire time, something plaintive behind them. When Siri objectively announced Fabian was taller, the plaintive glint hardened sharp and heavy. Neither girl smiled when Fabian whooped with victory.

Siri sat next to Gillian on the ride home.

--

Evenings in Bayville took on a completely different tone, exchanging sun-soaked shimmer and the smell of No-Ad sunscreen for the heliotrope haze of dusk, citronella wafting heavy on the night air. Those summer nights weren’t just dark and twinkling, they were laden with potential energy, the silver ball perched at the top of a physics experiment, a penalty shot lined up against a tied score and less than a minute left.

One navy night, Jamie had taken Siri by the hand, identical sailor knot bracelets scratching against each other’s wrists, and dragged her to her mom’s porch. This was an important ritual in Bayville: hopping from porch to porch after the sun sets to receive parental praise and affection and, if you were lucky, leftover lobster meat or a fresh-baked whoopie pie. This was the first time Siri had been included.

Mrs. Potter was sitting in a rocking chair, reading glasses perched on her nose and a cup of chai on the little table beside her, paperback novel splayed open in her hands. A generous lilac bush off the corner of the cottage steadily pulsed out its sweet perfume, writing itself into Siri’s memory like a madeleine on the tongue.

“Hi Mommy!” Jamie rushed up the steps and then swooped down to give her mother a sloppy kiss on the cheek. Mrs. Potter didn’t even have time to respond before Jamie gestured proudly to Siri.

“Mommy, this is Siri!” Jamie stepped back with that Cheshire grin, the one where her eyes stayed sharp, vibrating with excitement as she directed her mother’s gaze.

“My goodness, she is beautiful, isn’t she,” Mrs. Potter commented, surveying calmly. She was smaller than her daughter, with a weather-worn face typical of New England parents, dark hair shot with gray. Siri could tell, however, where Jamie got her eyes: Mrs. Potter’s were piercing and narrowed in an eerily familiar fashion. The breeze picked up; lingering sea-salted air blended dizzyingly with the evening florals and spiced tea.

Siri stammered through her blush. “Oh! Um, thank you… it’s nice to meet you.” She really wasn’t sure what she did to deserve getting double-teamed by the Potter Stare.

“Ugh, Mom, I told the boys to stop being gross about her!” Jamie whined.

“I didn’t hear it from the boys,” Mrs. Potter replied, still calm, still piercing. “There are whoopie pies inside on the counter. Help yourselves, girls.”

For some reason, Jamie flushed almost as deeply as Siri.

--

One rainy afternoon, Jamie and Siri perched across from each other on Siri’s bed, beat-up Vera Bradley toiletries bag sitting between them on top of the multi-colored patchwork quilt. Tuney and Lucy were in town at the movies with their families; Gillian was back home at a women’s lacrosse camp for the week. Regina had whined to be included, but Siri had kicked her out unceremoniously.

The two friends were meticulously stroking colored paint onto their toes: crimson red for Siri and metallic gold for Jamie. Siri’s mother would kill them if she saw they were using nail polish on the bed without a towel, but hey, Siri’s a rebel.

“Can I ask you something?” Jamie ventured without removing her focus from the task at hand—er—foot.

Siri’s breath caught a little at the change in tone. Just moments ago, they had been talking about their respective AP Lit reading lists and decrying the lack of women authors. “Sure,” she replied, keeping her voice light.

Jamie eyed the concealers and eyeliners spilling from Siri’s bag. “Why do you always wear makeup? I mean, it’s Bayville.”

Siri bristled automatically. She got teased a lot back home, either for wearing too much makeup or not enough. Always, it came back to her face, and the expectation Siri accepted unquestioningly that she owed the world perfection, and she better not dare present their judgement-day eyes with anything less than that.

She continued applying the blood-red paint to her toes, not looking up. “I mean, everyone wears makeup in Georgia,” she began defensively. “And I cheer, and I’ve done pageants—"

“Shut up!” Jamie interrupted, jaw dropped, pedicure abandoned, gold bottle of polish eagerly twisted shut and tossed carelessly onto the bed. “You’re a beauty queen?!”

Siri chanced a glance upwards. Jamie looked like Christmas had come early. It was not the reaction Siri usually got from other girls when that bit of information got pried from her.

“I mean… I never won or anything,” Siri shrugged, looking away, out the rain-splattered window. The nail polish brush in her hand hovered precariously over her left foot, threatening to drip red all over her careful paint job. “But yeah, I’ve done some of that, and like, modeling, for like department stores and stuff…” The geraniums bedded in their little window boxes outside were getting absolutely pummeled by the downpour.

“Do you like wearing makeup every day?”

When Siri returned her gaze to the room it caught on Jamie’s fish-hook stare, already angling to snag her. Siri didn’t look away.

“I like feeling pretty.”

Jamie held her gaze. “That’s not the same thing.”

Siri searched Jamie’s face for the inevitable cruelty that always slipped in front of jealousy like a vicious guard dog, brutally defending young girls against the pain of insecurity, the fear of rejection, of abandonment. Siri had wielded it thoughtlessly as much as she had been hurt by it, time and again.

But in Jamie’s brown eyes there was no trace of green, only curiosity, and maybe something a little softer? A little… safer? Jamie blinked, tilted her head and let a tiny smile crease the corner of her marble-carved mouth, encouraging Siri.

Siri sighed and dropped her eyes back down, finally closing the bottle of nail polish. She wouldn’t be able to say this next part if she was looking directly into the face of the prettiest girl she had ever seen. “I don’t like how I look without make-up. Sometimes, it’s… it’s all I can think about. How I look.” Siri had never confessed this to anyone before, this shameful, vain secret. “I wish I could be like you… you don’t need make up.”

The next thing Siri knew, warm, soft hands were gently but firmly holding the sides of her face, tilting her jaw up, making her breath catch with the sudden contact. She kept her gaze downcast until the last second, and when it finally did rise it was swallowed immediately by entire galaxies.

Jamie and her swirling orb eyes were maybe a few inches away from Siri’s, staring intently. She spoke with conviction.

“You don’t owe the world shit.”

--

Siri couldn’t rollerblade. Normally, that wasn’t much of an issue for her. It only became one when Jamie, accomplished athlete with a doe-like grace and the stubbornness of a young buck to match, found out.

So, on a Friday evening around the summer solstice, Siri agreed to let Jamie teach her. In exchange, she had bargained for minimum one hour with Jamie’s stunning face all to herself and her Vera Bradley makeup bag. Siri was chief makeup artist on the cheerleading bus for a reason; it was a creative outlet, painting on shadows and colors and creases to create a work of art you can smile and blink and laugh through. Putting makeup on others allowed Siri to embrace the artistry of it, rather than fight against the compulsivity that overshadowed her own complicated experience.

Jamie had arrived at the Blacks’ cottage around 6pm, just after an early dinner, and followed Siri up to her room where she could work her magic. Siri had been glad her parents were out for the night—she had heard enough off-color comments from her mother about “that Potter family” over the last few weeks and didn’t want to put Jamie at risk of hearing any of it. Regina, the better hairstylist of the two sisters, had been permitted to give Jamie two long French braids that showed off the subtle variations in her thick dark hair, shiny onyx strands rippled with chocolate and auburn.

Now, Siri was starting to regret her actions; the dramatic smokey eye she had indulged in creating electrified Jamie’s laser-beam gaze to the point of distraction.

It made it all the more difficult to stay upright on two thin rows of wheels.

“Jamie!” Siri squealed with a jolt of adrenaline, windmilling her arms out as she lurched forward, gaze ripped from Jamie’s face to the fast-approaching ground. The taller girl cackled but caught her with one hand all the same. Siri clutched at it like a lifeline, heart still pounding.

Their hands stayed clasped. Siri’s heartbeat stayed elevated.

They had found a bit of paved road, out closer to Route 1, and slowly made their way along the empty stretch before them, rolling farther from the safety of the familiar cottages with their slamming screen doors and sneaky garden gates, venturing onwards as the sun sank fast into an approaching dusk.

Both girls were clad in denim miniskirts; Siri’s was dark wash and kept riding up her hips as she maneuvered along the asphalt in a pair of old skates borrowed from Jamie. She had to keep tugging at it from underneath an oversized gray college-branded hoodie, so large it threatened to swallow her petite frame all together. Jamie’s mini was a light wash and fitted tightly to show off her strong thighs and butt. Paired with white and yellow layered tank tops that she filled out so enviously well, Jamie Potter looked like nothing less than Roller Derby Barbie. When Siri had told her so, Jamie had almost skated into a tree.

“We’re close to Cote’s,” Jamie commented after a stretch of not-quite-comfortable silence. Siri was grateful for the interruption; she got along better with Jamie than anyone else in Bayville, but one-on-one hang outs with her were becoming threaded with something unsettling, an uncomfortable crack of buzzed-out current that kept Siri’s body tipped on the edge of fight-or-flight. “Want to get an ice cream?”

There was something in the way she said it that made Siri look over at her friend in the fading twilight. Jamie’s eyes were practically glowing, the whites phosphorescent against her dark irises and the looming forest shadows, but there was still enough light to see her cheeks were darkened. Siri didn’t think she had put that much blush on her; she hadn’t wanted to pull focus from her eye makeup. Furthermore, in a way that didn’t usually accompany casual suggestions of ice cream, Jamie’s eyebrows were oddly drawn together. Siri wanted to reach out and smooth them, trail her fingers down her cheek, maybe hold her jaw tenderly and—

Oh.

Shit.

Siri gulped.

--

When they rolled up to Cote’s, however, the two girls were not alone. Fabian, Remus, Peter, and a couple more boys Siri didn’t recognize were sitting at one of the picnic tables out front, eating burgers and fries and making a general ruckus. It was late enough that a street lamp had flickered on, bathing the scene in artificial light. It made the faces of the boys glow eerily, joker grins and flinted eyes.

Every pair landed on Siri and Jamie and stayed there. Grins growing wider.

“Oh shit, look who it is!” Fabian was the first to crow. Remus groaned, no doubt annoyed by the unwelcomed intrusion of the two girls.

The two new boys made no pretense about continuing to stare openly.

Jamie’s grip on Siri’s hand tightened briefly before dropping.

“I was just teaching Siri how to skate. She’s never tried.” Jamie sounded uncharacteristically defensive. Territorial, even.

“What happened to your face?” Remus deadpanned. Fabian snickered.

Jamie drew herself to her full height, even taller than usual with the roller skates, and looked down her nose at the entire table. “She did my makeup. I love it.”

“It looks like you got punched,” Peter offered.

Fabian chimed in, “Why do you even wear that stuff? Girls look better without makeup, anyway.”

Siri and Jamie let that comment hang in the air for a beat or two. Watched Fabian squirm a bit.

“Gross,” Siri pronounced, once she had determined their point had been made. Jamie cracked her knuckles.

“Anyway, we were just here to get some ice cream. Come on, Siri.” Jamie made to grab her hand again and stomp them both into the tiny store, skates and all, when Fabian grabbed Siri’s other hand.

“No, Siri, stay with us. Potts’ll get your ice cream, right Potts?” He grinned up at Jamie, laying on the charm. A strange, fiery look passed between them before they turned to the girl in question.

Siri, not wanting to draw out—whatever that was—quickly agreed, pulling herself free of their grips. “Yeah, you go, I’ll wait out here.”

But at Siri’s response, Jamie’s face immediately clouded over into something downright murderous. Her eyes flashed as she turned and clomped into the store. A beat passed before Remus hopped up and announced he wanted some ice cream, too, and dragged Peter along with him. Fabian called to get him a cookie dough. Remus flipped him off without turning around or loosening his grip on Peter.

Siri carefully lowered herself to perch on the spot vacated by Remus, next to Fabian. She had her back facing away from the table along with the two random boys and was angled towards the door of the shop. She picked at a hangnail. Fiddled with a coil of long hair, dried curly after a day of dock jumping. Hoped her stupid fucking red cheeks could pass as exertion from roller skating.

She felt Fabian scooch closer. He muscled a tricep into her shoulder blade to get her attention. When she turned to look, he was leaning in, face close.

“Uh, these are my buddies from home, Benji and Caradoc.” Drew gestured to each boy across the table. “Guys, this is Siri.” He was hunched over and not quite making eye contact. He fidgeted with a few cold fries.

The weird energy pushing uncomfortably around them had Siri too agitated to remember to smile, but she did at least adjust her body to face the boys. They were built similarly to Fabian and both sported flowing locks peeking out beneath baseball hats.

Siri was outnumbered three to one by lax bros. She looked around for Satan, wondering why he wasn’t present to welcome her to what was clearly hell itself.

The boys still hadn’t stopped looking at her.

“Shit, dude, you weren’t kidding about this place,” one of the boys—Caradoc, maybe?—smirked cryptically. The other boy snorted, nudged the first.

Fabian’s eyes widened and he threw a soggy fry across the table. “Shut the fuck up,” he mumbled.

They were all saved by the tinkling of the shop door as Jamie, Remus and Peter returned, ice creams dripping from their hands. Siri scrutinized Jamie for a sign of what might be going on, but the taller girl kept her eyes averted and mouth set in a determined, hard line. Remus appeared frustrated, Peter nervous.

“Thanks, Jamie.” Siri spoke sincerely, trying to catch her friend’s eye, as a cone piled high with fruit-flecked ice cream was deposited emotionlessly into her hand.

“Welcome.” Jamie replied. She grabbed a stool from the outdoor counter, carried it over, placed it across from Siri and Fabian so the three of them formed a triangle of sorts, and threw herself onto it with her legs splayed despite her skirt. Somehow, she held onto her strawberry ice cream effortlessly throughout the process—rollerblades be dammed.

Remus, meanwhile, leaned on the end of the picnic table next to Fabian and handed off the requested cookie dough cone. He began eating his own chocolate ice cream quietly. Peter skulked behind him and slurped a milkshake.

“What flavor did you get?” Fabian asked Siri, low like he was only talking to her.

“Black cherry.” Siri spoke loudly as if it were a group conversation. “Jamie knows it’s my favorite.” She punctuated the statement with a smile in her friend’s direction, rolling over, a submissive flash of soft white tummy.

Siri’s tail went between her legs when it wasn’t returned; Jamie’s stare was trained on Fabian.

“Wanna try mine?” Fabian proffered his cone to Siri. She could hear more snickering from Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum behind her.

Siri whipped her head around. “Oh! Uh—”

“Come on, it’s good.” Fabian cracked a shit-eating grin. “My cone needs to be tasted.” All four boys, minus Remus, were snorting heartily.

But before Siri could vocalize the acerbic reply forming in the back of her throat, Jamie suddenly leaned forward off her stool and licked Fabian’s cone herself, tongue wide and pink against the creamy vanilla. Her eyes met Siri’s as she flicked the tip of her tongue up at the crest of the cone, cream dripping down into her mouth, before pulling the clever appendage back behind her teeth, swallowing, and finishing off with a final swipe of her full lips.

Oh.

Shit.

“There.” Jamie concluded, sitting back. Siri’s mind was blank. “Your cone has been tasted. No one else needs to be subjected to it. Besides,” —a cocky wink to Siri, a shrug to the boys— “it could have been bigger.”

Everyone, even Remus, howled with laughter; it was peak “that’s what she said” era.

Everyone except Siri.

--

“Truth.”

Siri and Jamie were laying on a blanket in the grass, flat on their backs, looking up at the stars. After they had finished their ice cream, Fabian had given the girls a lift back to Bayville. He had offered Siri shotgun but Jamie had complained her long legs meant she needed the front seat more. Eager to please and wanting to get back into Jamie’s good graces, unsure why she had even fallen out of them in the first place—must be an only child thing—Siri had acquiesced and sat in the back with the rest of the boys. To her relief, it seemed to have worked. Jamie was back to her usual loud, joking self as soon as Fabian had dropped them off.

They had stopped at the Blacks’ cottage to change out of their skates and grab a blanket—hot-blooded Jamie refusing to borrow a sweatshirt—before wandering down to the central lawn ostensibly to stargaze but really to giggle and gossip. It hadn’t taken long to strike up a round of Truth or Dare; Siri had just selected truth.

“What’s your number?” Jamie asked in the direction of the North Star.

Siri turned her head, traced her eyes over Jamie’s profile outlined in the moonlight. Her nose was elegant, fit perfectly to her face, her top lip pouting prettily just beneath it.

“Zero,” Siri answered after a beat. Unashamed, but also unsure.

Jamie turned her head as well, brow furrowed almost in offense, eyes deep and searching of Siri’s face.

“You can tell me.”

Siri smiled with only half her mouth, derisive. “Trust me, I would.”

Jamie’s gaze refused to let up. Siri could feel heat prickling along her hips, under her arms. “I…yeah, there hasn’t been anyone worth it, I guess.” Her pulse was throbbing harder the longer Jamie looked at her like that.

“What about you?” Siri asked, looking for relief: Jamie’s stare was like an exacting silver needle, threading the two of them together without mercy, sewing them closer and closer.

Jamie made a strange face; a little sad, a little hopeful. “Just one. My ex-boyfriend. Sophomore year.”

Siri took a breath, to work out how she felt about that. “Did you love him?” Siri decided she hoped she loved him. Hoped he loved her, more like. Jamie deserved love, all of it.

That needle-eye stare punctured the night with quiet catching sounds as it stitch, stitch, stitched away, pricking spindled fingers with gift and curse alike as Jamie Potter thought hard before answering.

“In a way, yeah, I think so.” She turned back to the stars, pulling but not snapping the immortal threads. “I definitely thought I did.”

Siri didn’t respond, but redirected her gaze skyward as well. The two girls simply breathed together, laying side by side, woven and watching as the earth turned. Nature was serenading them ardently, crickets and frogs awake and amorous, calling for mates. The gentle lapping of the bay against well-worn rocks and weathered boats and steadfast pilings and rooted banks beat in time to steady stolen hearts; the rustle of oak leaves in the trees above, caught dizzy in a midnight breeze, blew secrets in and out of seashelled ears.

Siri felt like Ariel, floating in a blue lagoon. Just missing a crooning crab.

Then, to the moon: “Was it good?”

“It hurt,” Jamie replied, also to the moon. “But I wanted to do it. I just, haven’t really wanted to… since then.”

The wind picked up and Siri looked over in time to watch Jamie shiver. Goosebumps erupted all down her toned arms and chest, across the gleaming tops of her breasts gently swollen against the moonlight. Siri allowed her eyes to continue trailing downwards, clock the evidence of Jamie’s chill even through her bra and layered tops.

Siri turned and sat up, pulled off her own sweatshirt with crossed arms, pink Abercrombie polo getting caught up a bit in her effort. When her vision reappeared from the tangle of cloth and curls, Jamie was staring at her.

“Here.” Siri tossed the sweatshirt, still warm with her body heat, into Jamie’s lap. Jamie didn’t move. Siri raised her eyebrows. “I know you’re cold, Potts, I just watched you shiver.”

Jamie didn’t smile, but sat up slack-jawed and put on the sweatshirt without protesting. That’s a first, Siri thought.

“Your turn.” Siri said once Jamie was bundled up. She missed the sight of her smooth shoulders, her sculpted clavicle, and okay, yes, her tits in those tank tops, but there was something pleasant about seeing Jamie in Siri’s clothes that made it worth it. Plus, in their new semi-seated positions Jamie had her long legs stretched unendingly in front of her, ankles crossed, as she leaned back on her hands. The top of her shin bone seemed to fucking glow, radioactive in the mirror-blue night. Siri’s legs were curved under her as she sat slightly hunched toward Jamie, close to the bend of her waist. “Truth or dare.”

Jamie surprised Siri by picking truth.

“Ok…” Siri’s eyes flicked to Jamie’s perfect mouth. She took a risk. “What’s the deal between you and Fabian?”

Siri was braced to get told off, or for Jamie to dissolve in girlish denial. Instead, she was serious, considering carefully before replying. “He used to have a crush on me.” She twisted her neck, popping the joints. Looked out towards the water. “Followed me around all last summer, like a lost puppy.”

Siri snorted at the image. “Did you like him back?”

Jamie pulled her mouth to the side, lifted a shoulder. “Not really.”

Siri thought of the boys back home, a few in particular… always lurking around hall corners and by lockers and on sidelines. She could relate.

“So what’s different this year?” Siri pressed, slightly afraid of the answer.

Jamie leveled Siri with a look, ancient amber sparked with starlight. “Well, you’re here.”

Ah, fuck.

Siri sighed, looked away. Forced herself to ask, “Are you jealous?”

“Maybe a little,” Jamie whispered.

Siri’s heart sank like the Heart of the fucking Ocean. She turned her head fully away from Jamie, looking over her shoulder at the dark trees and shadowed cottages in the distance. Most of their lights were out.

“Well I don’t really like him, like that, so,” Siri mumbled into the darkness, giving Jamie the green light. At least now it was out in the open. Maybe now they could go back to being normal friends.

Well, normal-ish, for Siri.

Jamie, however, perked up, excited. “Yeah? You don’t?” She shuffled forward, angling her face to try and catch Siri’s avoidant eye.

To Siri’s horror, she felt heat press into her sinuses, her throat, her eyes shimmering and shaking, threatening to spill at any moment. She really didn’t like Drew, so why did she care so much if Jamie did?

You know why, Inner Siri whispered.

Go to hell, Denial Siri muttered back.

She took a shaky breath in, forced her emotions back down—stomped on them with gusto, really. “It’s your turn to ask. Go.”

“Truth or dare.” The pleased smile in Jamie’s voice carried, although Siri still hadn’t turned back around to face her. Hearing it in this context felt like falling from a stunt; a deeply unpleasant drop in your stomach followed by getting the wind brutally knocked out of you.

Siri sighed again. “Truth.” She had learned long ago never to pick dare. At any rate, she found people fascinating, their secrets, their fears, their dreams: learning those intimacies and sharing them back helped her love deeper, love specific, when she chose to. Like right now, Inner Siri noted, smug. Shut the fuck up, Denial Siri replied, pissed.

“What about just kissing? How many guys have you kissed?”

Siri should have known Jamie wasn’t going to let the general topic go. She groaned and rolled her head back, exasperated, before finally lolling it around to glare at Jamie, whose braids were still holding her thick hair tight away from her face, fine baby hairs whisping in front of her ears and over her brow. Dark eyes rimmed in charcoal smoke glinted with intent: mischief, and something else Siri couldn’t quite put her finger on.

Siri inhaled, nostrils flaring. This one was less fun to talk about.

“None.”

Jamie’s jaw dropped. But her eyes. They positively lit up, bright and keen.

“None?!”

Siri shook her head. Thought, again, of the simpering boys back home, of Fabian and his friends from earlier. Sure, those guys were hot, but the thought of trusting them enough to hold her, touch her. It just didn’t make sense.

“I’ve only kissed two guys,” Jamie quickly offered. There was something unspoken behind her teeth. “My ex, and a random boy at the 8th grade dance.”

That seemed odd to Siri. Jamie was friendly, popular. Confident. Girls like that had no trouble kissing for fun.

“Okay then.” Jamie sounded like she had decided something, God help us all. She angled her body, taking Siri’s silence as some sort of invitation, and gave her an uncommonly brilliant demonstration of the Potter Stare paired with her signature smile.

“I dare you to kiss me.”

Siri gaped; blood coursed through her ears. No, no, no this wasn’t what she wanted. It wasn’t like that—a pity kiss, or, or an experiment or something silly to giggle about—

“It’s not your turn!” Siri sputtered. “And… I didn’t pick dare! I never pick dare.”

Jamie was leaning towards Siri, head tilted down so she could quite literally bat her thick, darkened eyelashes up at her. “Don’t you want to kiss me?” she pouted, smiling. Cheeky. Siri felt a shiver ignite down her helpless spine.

The problem was, Jamie had no idea how badly she did.

Siri was powerfully reminded of the first time they met. “Don’t you want to hang out with us?” She was so sure, so confident. Easy. Everything Siri was not.

Now, Jamie’s face had turned on a dime from flirty to focused. It was a little terrifying.

Because behind that carefree ease and sunlight smile, Siri knew, there was a deep and raw hunger. An ache to be needed. To be seen, and delighted in, just as she tries so hard to see and delight in everyone else around her.

Siri saw Jamie.

“I… I don’t.” Siri swallowed, tore her eyes away. “I don’t want it to be a dare.” She was grateful for the darkness, knowing that for once her berry-red face was getting some camouflage.

Jamie, meanwhile, changed tack. Siri could still feel the intensity of her gaze, but she also felt her sit up a little, square herself, blend her characteristic curiosity into that swirling stare.

“What about not guys?” Jamie asked evenly.

Siri frowned, mirrored Jamie’s body language, met her eyes once again. “What?”

She repeated, patient. Dead serious. “How many not-guys have you kissed?”

Was Jamie asking what Siri thought she was asking? Siri was silent, could only stare, searching her face for clues.

It had gotten closer to her own, somehow.

Stitch, stitch, stitch.

Jamie took a deep breath, eyes locked on Siri. “I’ve kissed… a few not-boys,” she confessed.

Did Siri imagine it, or did Jamie’s eyes flit down to Siri’s mouth when she said it?

Then, slowly, unbelievably, Jamie reached out a warm hand. Siri’s breath hitched and something flipped pleasantly low behind her tailbone as with the backs of her knuckles, Jamie tenderly brushed a lock of hair from Siri’s forehead, fingers turning and tracing down her cheek, so impossibly soft and delicate. Ice and fire whooshed simultaneously along Siri’s face where the tips of Jamie’s nails caressed her skin; Siri’s eyes fluttered shut. She leaned into the touch.

“I don’t want it to be a dare, either,” Jamie whispered, honey-glazed, low. Assured.

Siri’s heart stopped. She opened her eyes.

And Jamie’s were dancing, burning waves of desire, a whirlpool and Siri was drowning. Jamie’s fingers slid from Siri’s cheek to grip deep within her hair, hold her firmly around her jaw and neck.

She was so close now there was hardly any space left between them. Siri’s lips parted with soft pants. She could feel Jamie’s breath on her tongue, creamy and sweet.

“Siri, I—” Jamie murmured against Siri’s open mouth, nosing into her. “I want to.” She gripped the other side of Siri’s face, fierce, desperate. “I want you.”

Siri closed the distance.

And it was… Fireworks? A revelation? Angels singing Handel’s chorus in four-part harmony?

It was so easy. So easy to revel in the feel of Jamie’s lips on her own, to slowly open her mouth for her, willingly, taste her, gently. So fucking soft and warm and wet and sweet, a delightful echo of the ice cream she had so lustfully watched Jamie lick away at earlier, sugared vanilla and tangy fruit, filling up her mouth and tongue.

Jamie expertly maneuvered Siri’s face sideways with knowing hands still holding her neck, sending Siri’s stomach swooping down to her toes (though it felt more like a well-executed tumbling pass than a dropped stunt), and deepened the kiss.

It was incredibly sexy.

Jamie’s tongue was down her throat and butterflies were rioting through her body and congregating between her legs and in her pelvis and Siri pushed in, gripped the front of that damn sweatshirt, wanting more. She felt their teeth bump and their movements fall out of sync, but then Jamie merely giggled into her, the corners of her mouth pulling with her smile and pushing that fucking tongue out of her mouth just that little bit to meet her own outside their lips.

So they did that for a minute. Just took turns carefully, slowly pushing each other’s tongues back and forth, fingers dancing over smooth cheeks and warm necks and warmer waists, peppering in soft licks and nips to bottom lips, growing plumper and redder by the minute. Siri was pretty sure she was remembering to swallow, because nothing felt too sloppy, just really fucking hot.

So hot that she somehow ended up straddled on top of Jamie, skirt hiked up by those confident hands dangerously high on her thighs, rolling her hips hungrily, even aggressively, against Jamie’s body and feeling her so fucking soft underneath her.

She wasn’t sure who came up for air first. It might have been Siri, but only because Jamie tugged deliciously at the roots of Siri’s curls, forcing her head back and making her moan out to the stars and the moon above while Jamie collapsed against her throat.

“Holy fucking shit, Siri.” Jamie panted after a beat, looking up into her face, wild-eyed. Shocked.

“Sorry! Jamie, sorry, I—too much?” Siri struggled to catch her breath. She wasn’t sure how, in the span of twenty minutes, she had gone from never having a first kiss to rutting into the hottest girl alive in a semi-public area. Her underwear felt uncomfortably wet.

She didn’t hate it.

“Jesus Christ, no,” Jamie breathed through a maniacal grin. And Siri saw then that the shock was really pride.

Smug, cocky, balls-a-swinging pride.

And under that, a deep and radiant and joy-filled relief.

Siri figured it was probably reflected incandescently on her own face.

Inner Siri agreed.

--

She was sprawled on her tummy in bed, heart still pleasantly in her throat and head very much still on the lawn under the stars, when the unmistakable feeling of being watched prickled across Siri’s already-sensitive skin. Sure enough, she rolled over to find a familiarly slender shadow quietly darkening the small crack in her bedroom doorway, belied only by the faintest creak of old floorboards beneath socked feet.

“You’re back,” the shadow said.

Shortly after midnight, Jamie had walked Siri home, hand protectively around her shoulders and Siri nuzzled happily into Jamie’s chest, arms encircling her waist like a needy koala, enveloping each other in the smell of hair and skin and laundry soap as they had stumbled up the hill. Siri had taken care not to wake her family when she crept back inside the cottage, parting kisses stolen behind blind-eye hedges after giggled insistences to keep it, I like seeing it on you.

“Obviously,” Siri whispered, waiting.

Wordlessly, Regina pushed Siri’s bedroom door open enough for her to slip inside and pad over to the bed. The wrought iron frame groaned, unnaturally loud in the still of the night, as she wiggled beneath the covers next to her sister.

Regina’s copious curls spilled across the pillow, taking up half the bed with untamable tendrils and tickling Siri’s nose and neck. Siri pushed them away, pressed her icy toes under Regina’s calves.

Their breathing evened as they settled next to each other, Siri on her back, looking up at the moonlight cast in scattered shapes across the ceiling, Regina on her side with her head tucked in like a burrowed kitten.

“How was it?” Regina whispered into the covers.

“Good.” Siri replied, guarded. The butterflies she had been enjoying were flying right up her throat and out her mouth with each exhale, leaving just plain nerves in their wake. She wasn’t sure what Regina would say about, well, everything.

“I talked to Remus, after y’all came back from Cote’s.”

Siri glanced down at her sister. “Oh?” Remus wasn’t particularly intimidating, but he was a boy several years older than Regina, and Siri didn’t think they had had any direct conversations before.

“He said it got a little… awkward,” Regina tried delicately.

Siri sighed. “Yeah, that’s one way to put it.”

Regina’s eyes opened and batted up to look at Siri, eyebrows and lashes dark on her pale face. She looked impossibly young, tender, like a fawn waiting patiently for its mother in the wooded thicket. “And that someone likes you.”

Siri thought of Fabian, and Remus, seated next to each other on the picnic bench, their reactions when she had rolled up. Fabian’s immature behavior. She groaned.

“Yeah… I figured.” Honestly why did it always come back to a freaking guy? Was this really what it was always going to be like?

“So… did something happen?” Regina pressed.

Siri never lied to her sister, so she didn’t say anything.

Regina could read her like a book anyway.

“Did you guys kiss?”

Siri breathed out, barely a whisper. “Yes.” Her lips quivered. “But it’s not with… it wasn’t who you think.”

And all the emotions and the overwhelming bigness of just, everything, came crashing back, and the tears Siri had stomped down earlier finally spilled hot down her cheeks.

Regina was calm, steady. Blinked her fawn eyes gently.

“Was it Jamie?” She had always possessed a wisdom beyond her young years.

Siri turned a tear-streaked face to her sister. Cried a little harder. Nodded.

Regina shrugged. “Remus said he and Peter were pretty fed up with how she was acting. Wanted her to just go for it already. He asked me if I thought you liked her back.”

“Really?” Siri smiled, watery, hopeful. “What did you say?”

Despite her sensitivity, Regina was still a sassy little shit. She rolled her eyes. “Duh.”

And there, in the soft quiet night with silver moonbeams carrying dreams and desire back and forth across a star-strewn bay, Regina hugged her.

Siri hugged her back.

--

On the easternmost tip of the country, dashing up 95 or lazing along Route 1, over tiny suspension bridges and past sleepy lobstering towns and through fields alive with black-eyed susans and purple clover and Miss Rumphius’s famous lupine,

down dusty country roads that crunch under car tires and kick dust behind sneakers,

between paper-white birch trees and evergreen pine lined with split-rail fences and wild rose bushes hiding monarchs and honeybees,

tucked among rocky, cragged coastline where red quartz cliffs break squally sprays over pebbled stones warmed gray by the sun,

following the call of seagulls and dinghy bells and misplaced rhotic consonants within winter-gruff voices (ayuh),

where the smells of white bar soap and mineral-crusted pipes and salt, salt, salt mingle with those of lilac and bug spray and ozone,

there lies a fairytale village on a wishful blue bay.

And if you make pilgrimage to its venerable wooden dock, last stop before plunging into ocean deep,

and perhaps rest on its cerulean-bright benches, look out in wonder at how blues so blue can exist, and whites so white, and greens so green, and breathe what feels like nothing, the air so crystal clean,

and sigh and turn your head, look north, you might see

written in black sharpie, bubble letters marking permanently chip-worn paint,

the initials JFP + SOB.

And somewhere to the left of that, your curious eyes tracing, find that same sharpie and youthful handwriting among the various inking and carving,

SOB + RAB

[fatefulfaerie]

December OTP Prompts

(and what I’m doing with them)

Thank you to @lavenderotpprompts for the original prompt list!

Prompts 25-31 delayed

Ice Skating - Rosegarden (RWBY)

“You Shouldn’t Have” - Mario x Peach (they are from like every Mario game I’m not listing all that. Odyssey. Sure. Super Mario Odyssey)

Peppermint - Chidi x Eleanor (The Good Place)

Kissing Cold Noses - Hiccstrid (How To Train Your Dragon, How To Train Your Dragon 2, How To Train Your Dragon: The Hidden World)

Traditions - Peter Parker x MJ (MCU)

Family Gathering - Wanda x Vision (MCU)

Hot Chocolate With Marshmallows - Ghira x Kali (RWBY)

Fireplace - Arkos (RWBY)

Silver And Gold - White Knight (RWBY)

“We Have To Hurry” - Ed x Winry (Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood)

Day Spent Baking Cookies - Zelink (The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword)

Wrapping Paper - Renora (RWBY)

Evergreen Tree - Zelink (The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild)

Naughty - Linebeck x Jolene (The Legend of Zelda: Phantom Hourglass)

Nice - Jason x Janet (The Good Place)

Snowed In - Rosegarden (RWBY)

Decorations - Zelink (The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild/The Sequel to the Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild)

Mistletoe - Renora (RWBY)

Stockings - Kristanna (Frozen, Frozen 2)

Frosted Windows - Zelink (The Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker/The Legend of Zelda: Phantom Hourglass)

The Best Present - B’elanna x Tom (Star Trek: Voyager)

“Here, Take My Scarf” - Zelink (The Legend of Zelda: Spirit Tracks)

Twinkling Lights - Han x Leia (Star Wars Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back, Star Wars Episode VI: Return of the Jedi)

The Night Before - White Knight (RWBY)

Holiday Music - Steve x Peggy (MCU)

Sweet Kisses - Ozma x Salem (RWBY)

Masquerade - Zelink (Breath of the Wild)

Sugar And Spice - Lizzie and Darcy (Pride and Prejudice the book but also the 1995 version, 2005 doesn’t exist)

Moonlight - Bruce Wayne x Selina Kyle (Batman Returns)

Late Mornings - Peeta x Katniss (The Hunger Games, Catching Fire, Mockingjay)

“May I Have This Dance?” Gelato (RWBY)

[jay4firefic]

Otp Question game- Buck & Kelly- 6. Who'd take the gingerbread house decorating contest just a little too seriously?

Hard decision but I've landed on Kelly. Buck keeps getting distracted, half of his gingerbread house is beautiful and the other half has crooked cookie shingles and is missing decorations that he decided to snack on instead. There's frosting in his hair.

Meanwhile Kelly, who had to be coerced into participating, quietly busted out measuring tape and box cutters and has built a house with doors and windows measured to code, gum drop smoke alarms and a chocolate sprinkle sprinkler system. The roof tiles and siding are perfect. He figured out how to make candy glass window panes with a torch and some stale hard candy when he got bored.

Casey displays it at the fire house for a week and never lets him live it down.

[me-myself-and-my-fos]

After about 20 years together, Bernard revealed that he can tell when I’m super tired as I try to sleep because I’ll make little whines and sighs as I lay in bed…

[creamecream]

*Bloops in I did a meme.*

I don’t have any specific warnings for this one, besides I don’t particularly care for some rather popular ships, and I believe Pumpkin Pie Cookie and Squid Ink Cookie to be 1000+ year old eldritch demons, not children, but that doesn’t factor much.

I didn’t touch family or friends (tho I accidentally left a line between Carrot and Clover, sorry!) because that would just so confuse things, I tried it for some and in the end said nah. and I took “meh” as an “not for me, but whatever” option, and “support” as an “is cute, but not my first choice” option.

I’m well aware I forgot some fc ships! I didn’t remember some of whom my friends’ characters went with!

With Cookie fan characters

Latte Cookie x Reindeer Cookie (belongs to me)

Almond Cookie x Reindeer Cookie (belongs to me)

Werewolf Cookie x Foxglove Cookie (belongs to @shinynymphia)

Espresso Cookie x Mixed Berry Cookie (belongs to @berrisweet-panda)

Pure Vanilla Cookie x Strawberry Jam Cookie (belongs to @berrisweet-panda)

White Lily Cookie x Strawberry Jam Cookie (belongs to @berrisweet-panda)

No

Red Velvet Cookie x Pastry Cookie

Meh

Knight Cookie x Princess Cookie

Devil Cookie x Angel Cookie

Adventurer Cookie x Blackberry Cookie

Milk Cookie x Purple Yam Cookie/Dark Choco Cookie (I forgot which one was the popular one, I just put MilkYam but I meant both/the usual one you see)

Mala Sauce Cookie x Chili Pepper Cookie

Madeliene Cookie x Espresso Cookie

Espresso Cookie x Latte Cookie

Latte Cookie x Almond Cookie

Rye Cookie x Chili Pepper Cookie

Herb Cookie x Sparkling Cookie

Sparkling Cookie x Mint Choco Cookie

Pure Vanilla Cookie x Dark Cacao Cookie

Support

Clover Cookie x Fig Cookie

Pure Vanilla Cookie x Black Raisin Cookie

Sea Fairy Cookie x Frost Queen Cookie

Pastry Cookie x Pomegranate Cookie

Love

Strawberry Cookie x Wizard Cookie

Knight Cookie x Fig Cookie

Princess Cookie x Raspberry Cookie

Alchemist Cookie x Herb Cookie

Clover Cookie x Lilac Cookie

Werewolf Cookie x Kumiho Cookie x Red Velvet Cookie

Dark Choco Cookie x Madeleine Cookie

Parfait Cookie x Licorice Cookie

Cocoa Cookie x Mint Choco Cookie

Pure Vanilla Cookie x White Lily Cookie

Otps

Pumpkin Pie Cookie x Squid Ink Cookie

Sparkling Cookie x Vampire Cookie

Made by YoshiAnimates on DeviantArt

Blank: https://www.deviantart.com/yoshianimates/art/Cookie-Run-Shipping-Chart-Updated-903390932

[oikirstein]

1-50

i—

idk if this serious or not but i’m going to do it anyways 😁

1. do you have a crush on anyone?

on oikawa 😏

2. what’s your favorite candy?

my favorite candy are those rainbow sour belts and also that tamarind candy that you push up in the green container with a red cap

3. favorite love song?

i have such a hard time picking my favorite songs because it always changes but right now, it’s probably white ferrari by frank ocean which probably is more of a falling out of love song than a love song but oh well

4. what was your first kiss like?

lmaooooo hahaha n e wayz

5. what was your last kiss like?

the last person i kissed was my oikawa plushie

6. sexual/romantic orientation?

heteroromantic (i think) & bisexual

7. do you prefer poems or love letters?

what about a poem in a love letter 😉

8. favorite fanfic trope?

50k words slowburn enemies to lovers with eventual mutal pining but they’re both too prideful and blinded by their “hate” that the tension keeps building and building until one of them goes “you wanna kiss me so bad you look stupid” and then they makeout until they pull apart so the other can say “what now?” 

9. have you ever been in love?

no </3

10. favorite milkshake flavor?

oreo/cookies and cream/chocolate and vanilla swirl

11. dinner dates or brunch dates?

answered

12. favorite flowers?

probably hibiscuses, roses, purple hydrangeas and irises, baby’s breath, and cherry blossoms (or is that classified as a tree)

13. favorite perfume/cologne?

i don’t really wear expensive perfume or anything but my favorite scents one of my favorite scents is rose from bath and body. some of my other favorite scents are winter candy apple, black cherry merlot, japanese cherry blossom, and cucumber melon

14. favorite candle scent?

i like candles that smell refreshing. candles that smell like food or something too sweet (like snickerdoodles or caramel) give me headaches.

15. what’s your ideal first date?

my ideal first date would be making each other short little playlists on spotify and driving around late at night heading towards the sunset while we play each other the songs and rate them.

16. favorite love story?

me and oikawa 🥰

17. what’s the most attractive thing a person could wear?

one of those nice silky button ups with the sleeve rolled up to their elbows and a few of the top buttons popped open + nice black slacks 

18. chocolate, vanilla, or red velvet?

red velvet is just chocolate with red food coloring and cream cheese frosting so do i really need to pick between the two?

19. snow, rain, or sun?

as someone from the west, i would like to say snow but i know i love the sunny days

20. sweetest romantic memory?

when i got my oikawa plush in the mail

21. favorite dating sim (and favorite character)?

i must be dumb because when i read this i thought of the sims—like the game with bob pancakes. i haven't played that many dating simulator games but for now i’d say mystic messenger because talking to 707 gives me serotonin 

22. fictional crushes?

*harshly exhales through nose*

my current brainrots go as following in no particular order:

toru oikawa 

jean kirsten

rintaro suna

levi ackerman

ryota kise

mikasa ackerman

annie leonhart

armin arlert

koshi sugawara

kyoko kirigiri

sayaka maizono

byakuya togami

nozomu nanashima

LANGA HASEGAWA

shoto todoroki

dabi

hawks

shouta aizawa

denki kaminari

should i go on 🤔

23. what’s your dream wedding like?

answered

24. what makes you blush?

physical contact and witty remarks 

25. do you believe in love at first sight?

no because i think to be in love there needs to be an established form of trust

26. do you believe in soulmates?

answered

27. denim jackets, leather jackets, or bomber jackets?

denim jackets for sure

28. what’s your sign?

leo sun, libra moon, capricorn rising

29. are you single?

yeah 🙂 but that can change 😏

30. do you prefer to charm, or be charmed?

be charmed 

31. guitar or piano?

i really want to buy an electric so im saving my money, but i have an acoustic and a keyboard. i’m pretty basic on the acoustic i can’t do barre chords to save my life but i’m trying to get better at piano haha. if i had to pick, then i wish i could master piano.

30. favorite romcom?

i like to watch the notebook :)

33. do you fall in love easily?

please i almost applied for a job at pet smart because a cute guy worked there

34. valentine’s decorations: yay or nay?

i want to say no because they’re tacky but some of them are cute

35. would you prefer to propose or be proposed to? what’s your dream proposal?

i would prefer to be proposed to. my dream proposal would be quaint and intimate, maybe going to a little place that holds a significant memory for the both of us or maybe it would be in aisle 3 of 7/11 🤷🏽‍♀️ i think the only thing that matters is that we’re both sure of our feelings for each other and are ready to commit to a life of love

36. cloud gazing or star gazing?

star gazing thru the sunroof of their car in the woods or smth 🥺

37. do you like to dance?

i’m not good at dancing, but i’ll dice roll into every room

38. what’s your OTP?

dramione aka the blueprint for my love of enemies to lovers + tsunderes

and also kagehina because they just have so much chemistry and also because they’re my comfort ship

like before i even really got into the fandom, i was sitting there on netflix like “they would be cute together”

39. kittens or puppies?

puppies!

40. coffee, hot chocolate, or tea?

i really only drink hot chocolate in winter or around the holidays so i think i’d say tea. my favorite to drink is black tea with 3 teaspoons of sugar and a splash of milk

41. favorite soda?

diet coke or royal (filipino brand orange soda)

42. do you prefer gazing wistfully out the window or lying dramatically over the sofa?

lying dramatically on the sofa and pretending i’m dead to practice how my body is going to look when i finally kick the bucket 

43. favorite ABBA song?

gimmie! gimme! gimme! (a man after midnight), waterloo, dancing queen, mamma mia, andante andante, one of us, thank you for the music, and lay all your love on me 

sorry lol i can't pick a favorite

44. fuck/marry/kill? (anons name 3 people of your choice)

sorry i can’t answer this one without the people 😣

45. favorite pajamas?

they’re red fleece plaid pajama pants and a black tank top or just a really baggy shirt

46. favorite liquor?

this feels illegal to answer

47. do you think about love a lot?

yeah *sighs* i might try shifting to haiykuu or something

48. a walk in the park or a walk on the beach?

a walk on the beach 🤩

49. hand kisses or nose kisses?

wait those are both so cute. nose kisses and inner wrist kisses 

50. what’s your dreamhouse?

my dream house would probably be something like a colonial modern house with a porch that wraps all the way around, blue shutters, and a painting room, with a big kitchen, maybe 2 stories, 3-4 bedrooms with 4-5 bathrooms (yes i want every room to have an ensuite bathroom), central vacuum system, dishwasher, etc.

i just want a semi-large house with all the things i wasn’t able to have growing up

[fillogree]

This was supposed to be posted on the 13th, but time got away from me. Just a tiny ficlet celebrating platonic love with one of my otps.

"Happy Modomnoc's Day, Virgil!"

Patton cried excitedly as his roommate shuffled through the front door.

"Modomnoc's Day?" Virgil questioned, dropping the hood of his sweatshirt & pulling one of the earbuds from his ear.

"Mhm! It's one of my favorite holidays!" Patton proclaimed presenting a plate full of frosted cookies in the shapes of flowers & bees. Virgil plucked one of the bee shaped cookies from the assortment & bit down on one of the wings, humming around the pastry in his mouth.

"These are amazing as always, but explain." He said between bites.

"Modomnoc's day is a day for QPPs & Aces to celebrate. It's a feast day celebrating platonic love!"

"Huh. Well happy holidays to us." Virgil grinned, hanging up his messenger bag before settling into his favorite corner on the couch. "But what's with the spring time cookies? A little off season, don't you think?"

Patton joined his partner in the living room, nibbling on a tulip shaped cookie. "Instead of hearts & cherubs like valentine's day, Modomnoc's day has bees & flowers."

Virgil moved on to biting off the bee cookie's little stinger as he nodded. "Well, I'm a little biased, but this sounds like a much better holiday. So how do we celebrate?"

Patton's face lit up as he smiled widely, & Virgil couldn't help but grin in return. Patton's joy was always infectious, & celebrating with his closest friend was much better than ruminating on a lousy day at work.

"Well!" Patton began, hopping from foot to foot before he headed down the hallway returning with a large plastic tub filled with craft supplies. "I saw a list of fun fun things to do like visit an apiary, or plant flowers, but it's still snowing outside. So maybe we can make paper flowers & watch bees on discovery channel?"

Virgil's eyes widened a little as the smile across his face continued to grow. Watching nature shows was one of the ways he liked to settle his anxiety, & here Patton was offering to make an evening of it.

"That sounds like a perfect night in, Pat." He slid off the couch onto the floor in front of the tub of supplies & popped opened the lid. Construction paper, glue sticks, paint & scissors greeted the pair of brunettes & Patton bounced on his heels excitedly before settling on the ground beside his partner.

"So what kind of flowers do you want to make?" Patton asked, turning on the TV & setting up the DVD player.

"Sunflowers." Virgil smiled softly.

"Then I'll make an orchid!" Patton beamed, reaching for the purple paper.

Virgil glanced at his hands sheepishly before picking up a pair of scissors. Despite the two years they had been living together it still surprised him when Patton remembered something he liked.

"It's not an apiary or anything, but maybe after dinner we could head to that sweets shop that you like & get a couple honey sticks?"

Patton beamed & nodded enthusiastic, rocking a bit on his heels as the DVD started.

"That sounds perfect. Happy Modomnoc's Day, Virgil"

"Happy Modomnoc's Day, Pat."

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Christmas / Winter Writing Promts

A/n: FOR THE ANON WHO ASKED FOR PROMPTS FOR THE ANIME!!

Note: can totally be used for other things.

A/n 2:So just like my last list this is the same thing.

Also most of these are from my old shitty list that I made years ago with some other ones added.

getting out/putting up decorations.

making christmas cards.

sitting/snuggling in front of the fireplace with hot cocoa/tea.

shopping for and/or wrapping gifts.

buying the christmas tre.e

decorating the christmas tree.

mistletoe.

making snowmen.

wearing ugly christmas sweaters

baking holiday treats.

Kissing in front of the fireplace.)

watching a classic holiday film

listening to/playing festive music or caroling.

ice skating.

snowball fight!

catching cold from being outside so much.

spending time with friends/family.

one lending the other their coat/scarf/hat to keep them warm.

throwing/attending a holiday party.

one surprising the other with an early gift.

spending the evening in a cafe.

making s’mores.

having drinks together on christmas eve.

sneaking around after the other has fallen asleep to put up their gift.

spending christmas morning together.

Santa Claus is Comin’ to Town: Santa’s at the mall and our muses have gotten in line to visit. Who said this was only a holiday for the little kids?!

The Christmas Song (Chestnuts Roasting): Our muses have snuggled for some fireside Christmas dreaming.

You’re a Mean One, Mr. Grinch!: My muse (or your muse) is about to ruin Christmas! Horror! One of the other muse watches on. Can they make the grinchy heart grow from being two sizes too small? (Specify in your request who is who or leave it up to me!)

Frosty the Snowman: Our muses are off to build a snowman!

Silver Bells: It’s holiday shopping time and our muses are off buying presents for everyone on their lists.

White Christmas: It’s started to snow for what feels like the first time in forever! But one of our muses has never seen snow before, so the other will just have to do something about that, won’t they? (Specify who is who or leave it up to me!)

Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas: Our muses attempt to put together what is the perfect Christmas for themselves.

Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer: Santa’s in trouble and only our muses can save Christmas! Can we do it and deliver toys to all of the good girls and boys?

The Christmas Shoes: Our muses do something very selfless for someone in need on Christmas Eve.

Santa Baby: One of our muses has decided to dress as Mr./Mrs. Claus for a little more “adult” Christmas fun. Oh boy! (Specify who or leave it to me!)

The First Noel: Our muses are involved in a nativity scene at the church.

Silent Night: Not a creature was stirring… It’s Christmas Eve and everyone is in bed, except for our muses.

Oh Christmas Tree: Our muses go tree shopping! This one looks juuuust right!

Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer: One of our muses has had a little accident and will be spending Christmas in the hospital. (Specify who or leave it to me!)

Who Spiked the Eggnog: One of our muses is a little drunk from too much ‘nog and has become a little too jolly. (Specify who or leave it to me!)

Hark! The Herald Angels Sing: Our muses have joined a group of carolers for some holiday cheer!

Believe: One of our muses has gotten down about the holidays and needs some of that holiday magic restored in their life to bring them back- and to restore their faith in humanity. (Specify who or leave it up to me.)

Grown-Up Christmas List: My muse finds your muse’s Christmas list and just has to find that perfect gift.

Jingle Bells: Our muses take a sleigh ride!

Blue Christmas: How do our muses cope with being apart for Christmas?

Silver and Gold: Our muses are rummaging through ornaments for the Christmas tree and admiring some of the pieces that have been collected over the years.

I’ll Be Home for Christmas: One of our muses is home for the holidays, just in time! (Specify who or leave it up to me.)

Winter expectations vs. winter reality.

We need to buy you winter clothing.

Treatment for the flu/ a cold

Getting the person who doesn’t like Christmas into the right festive mood

Snowball fight

Hot tea and cozy sweaters

Giving subtle hints of what one would like to get for Christmas

Decoration wars (must include glitter)

Sleigh rides

Reading someone Christmas stories

Baking Christmas cookies

An unusual snowman

Finding a present for that person that is impossible to find a present for

The smell of Christmas

Holding out in a snowstorm together/Getting snowed in together

A Christmas letter.

Falling asleep by the fireplace

Dancing in the snow

The last day of work/class before the holidays

An odd Christmas tradition.

Picking out the right Christmas tree.

Obnoxious singing of Christmas songs.

The Traditional Christmas dinner.

Watching the snow alone and watching the snow together.

25 DAYS OF CHRISTMAS

December 1: Star

December 2: Hot Chocolate

December 3: Snow

December 4: Candy Canes

December 5: Christmas Tree

December 6: Angel

December 7: Pyjamas

December 8: Tinsel

December 9: Ice Skating

December 10: Frost

December 11: Eggnog

December 12: Cider

December 13: Peppermint

December 14: Gingerbread

December 15: Presents

December 16: Fireplace

December 17: Stocking

December 18: Cookies

December 19: Santa

December 20: Sled

December 21: Snow Man

December 22: Jingle Bells

December 23: Carols

December 24: Icicle

December 25: Christmas Movies

Handing their S/O a positive pregnancy test with a sprig of holly and a note reading ‘Merry Christmas’.

Getting trapped in a shopping mall together during after-hours in which they were christmas shopping too hard.

SWEATER PAWS AND CUDDLES.

Losing S/O at a christmas market and having to make an announcement over an intercom as to reunite them again (I’m thinking early 80’s era with fluorescent jackets and big old scarfs and brick phones that they left at home).

Fluffy, pretty, ‘princess’ character meets emo, grunge, moody character at a trashy christmas party and accidentally (drunkenly) makes them fall for them.

A competition for cringiestchristmas sweater at an office party, in which your otp comes wearing the same sweater.

Christmas Eve has your otp trapped in an elevator until late, both hungry and cold and now asleep together on the floor with bags of shopping discarded across from them.

Being hit in the face by an angry customer swinging their arms about and their S/O beating them up in the parking lot.

Christmas shenanigans under the tree, if you know what I mean.

Otp acting domestic whilst cooking their families christmas dinner and worrying about whether their parents are getting on with each other.

Planning a beautiful engagement for christmas day, only to lose the ring.

Mothering their S/O’s younger siblings and making sure they’re getting enough to eat.

Falling asleep in front of the fire whilst their S/O is playing them ‘dance of the sugar plum fairy’ on piano. They pull a blanket over them and curl up beside them.

Spilling hot chocolate/coffee/a hot-fucking-beverage on the other and insisting on paying for a new drink and new clothes for them, unaware that they’re rich and very capable of buying themselves another coffee. Besides, they don’t know that this jacket is Louis Vuitton and cost more than the knock-off Gucci belt that had caught their eye in the first place (probably looking a little lower than the belt, but we digress).

First christmas with their S/O and panicking to their best friend/sibling about what to get them. Somehow, a plushie didn’t seem exactly suitable when they knew the other had bought them an engagement ring.

Flying overseas for christmas, but having their baggage lost/delayed, meant they had to walk around their hotel room naked for a few days. That was their excuse anyway.

Burning christmas dinner and trying to order take-out (congratulations, you plebs).

Being gifted tickets to see a family member overseas, but having to leave their S/O at home for christmas, not expecting them to turn up on their doorstep on christmas morning with a bouquet of roses.

Finding their S/O drinking eggnog from the carton and crying at ‘Love Actually’ on their return from working all day. Pulling the other into their lap and kissing their forehead until they stop crying and fall asleep.

SLIPPING ON ICE, SPENDING CHRISTMAS IN HOSPITAL AND GUESS WHO THEIR DOCTOR IS??? *cue us pterodactyl screeching and them ensuing sexy shenanigans***

Decorating the christmas tree together and blowing the fuse for the electrics. Waiting in candle-light for the electricians to arrive and- let me just say- nothing stays fluffy in candle-light.

Bringing each others home country traditions to the dinner table and experiencing a weird mix of food.

Secretly learning their S/O’s mother-tongue to surprise them and be able to talk to their family at christmas.

Buying animal-proof fairy lights, confusing their S/O, but it all makes sense when there’s an ENTIRE puppy in their living room on christmas day.

Falling asleep in the passenger seat whilst their S/O drives them to a family members house for christmas, but not wanting to wake them for further directions because they look so p e a c e f u l.

Cuddling in the bathtub because it’s so cold outside and their S/O got caught in the snow on the way home from work.

Kissing under the mistletoe is underrated, go big or go home.

Sleeping in until midday because they just want to be in each other’s arms and it is so warm with them right here beside them.

Making out under the christmas tree because the lights reflecting in their S/O’s eyes just looked too ethereal for them not to kiss them until they lost their breath.

Eating dinner together and sharing kisses over the dining table. This isn’t always fun when their S/O has a hate for brussel sprouts.

Falling asleep on their significant other’s chest whilst they’re wrapping christmas presents, meaning that some aren’t wrapped the next morning because the sellotape had RUN OUT.

Failing to get the right meat and their S/O sending them back multiple times until they end up going together and realising that they weren’t even going to the right store.

Slow kisses.

Text messages asking for their S/O to put the kettle on for them as they were almost home.

Sitting on the doorstep in the cold, waiting for their S/O to come home from working on christmas day (emergency services?) and hugging them for so long whilst whispering ‘merry christmas’ into their neck and kissing any inch of skin they can reach.

Slow dancing to Frank Sinatra’s christmas songs in the kitchen and forgetting to check the potatoes in the oven.

Ice skating and them BOTH BEING REALLY GOOD ACTUALLY.

ACCIDENTALLY WEARING MATCHING NAUGHTY/NICE JUMPERS IN PUBLIC AND THEN BUMPING INTO EACH OTHER.

Avoiding the mistletoe at all costs, however, everyone is trying their best to get the otp there.

Neighbour au in which one gets drunk on mulled wine and ends up knocking at the other’s door, drunkenly trying to seduce the other and- instead- passing out in their living room.

MAKING OUT IN THE CLOAKROOM OF SOME POSH CHRISTMAS PARTY.

Just lots of making out in general. Jesus wanted us to repopulate which means fuc-

Crawling into their roommate’s (S/O’s) bed because it is too cold in their own and they want cuddles.

For goodness gracious IT’S 3 AM PLEASE STOP CAROLING au

-You threw a snowball and it hit me/my window and I was going to be mad but you’re really cute. Do you want to come in for hot chocolate? au

-This is the fourth time you’ve come to ask for sugar this week. How many cookies are you making? au

-we’re at an ugly Christmas sweater party and that thing is horrendous where did you even find that au

-You don’t realize I can see over the fence to watch you make snow angels like you’re five years old au

-you would literally make the best neighborhood Santa au

-are you the one putting mistletoe absolutely everywhere in this apartment building, or do you just happen to be in the right place at the right time every single time I walk under it au

-I just heard a ten pound turkey hit the ground and also very strong words. Do you need help? au

-I work at the Christmas tree lot and you just had to pick the heaviest tree there didn’t you au

-You were putting up Christmas lights and you just fell off the roof omg do you need me to drive you to the hospital au

-I invited you to Christmas dinner as my boyfriend/girlfriend so that my family would stop pestering me about being single, but we can keep this up until New Year’s, right? au

I’m going to eat this whole pie by myself and you’re not going to say anything about it au.

1. Mistletoe kiss

2. Pretend boyfriend/girlfriend for family Christmas party

3. You made me a Christmas playlist but it’s just Mariah Carey’s “All I want for Christmas is you”. I can’t tell if you’re hitting on me or if it’s a joke

4. My car got stuck in snow you saved me

5. Last Christmas I gave you my heart and you asked me to marry you

6. I got you for Secret Santa, but I thought it was suppose to be a gag gift, and now I wont fess up because I’m embarrassed

7. We’re both stuck at the airport for Christmas eve

8. Snowman competition, the judges are a bunch of five year old kids

9. I work at a toy store and you keep coming in but never buy anything

10. Your dad is Santa, he’s missing, and I’m helping you save Christmas

11. I’m a barista and you keep making weird faces when you drink the “Christmas cheer in a cup” coffee I make, why do you keep ordering it?

12. We’re neighbors and I just got locked out of my apartment, I was baking cookies that will burn if I don’t get in there quick

13. You made me an ugly Christmas sweater

14. I met you on Christmas but haven’t seen you since, until today on Christmas day, are you an angel? Wait, you actually are?

15. We’re stuck in different cities, so we wont be together for Christmas. We end up talking on the phone for hours, to the annoyance of our families.

16. I was dressed up as an elf, because of my job. You’re drunk and think I actually know Santa

17. You hate Christmas because you’ve never had a good one. So I go all out to make this the best Christmas for you

18. I was cold, so you gave me your jacket but now you’re cold too. So I suggest we hug instead

19. I’ve never seen snow in person before, until now, what is this white stuff falling from the sky? Why are you laughing at me?

20. We got into an argument because of something stupid, but I slipped on ice on the stairs. I called you to help me, and our fight was forgotten when you got all worried

21. I was putting up Christmas lights, and I literally fell into your arms

22. There’s one Christmas cookie left, so I challenge you, winner takes the cookie

23. You keep playing Christmas music, and it’s driving me nuts, please play something else.

1. “You’re freezing. Come here.”

2. “That’s the eggnog talking. I’m cutting you off.”

3. “I didn’t wrap it, so you have to close your eyes.”

4. “Don’t be such a Scrooge.”

5. “That’s mistletoe we’re standing under.”

6. “It’s snowing.”

7. “Open it.”

8. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

9. “I’m just happy you’re here.”

10. “Tis the season for sharing feelings, I guess.”

11. “Will it be too cliche to say I love you?”

12. “Nice sweater.”

13. “I didn’t know what to get you.”

14. “My fingers are numb.”

15. “Look at that. It’s beautiful.”

16. “How many candy canes have you eaten?”

17. “Careful. Santa’s watching.”

18. “What would you like for Christmas?”

19. “I don’t want to just see you once a year.”

20. “That’s my scarf.”

21. “I won’t let you fall.”

22. “How much sugar have you had?”

23. “Chocolate chip is the only cookie that matters.”

24. “Is this the part where we kiss?”

25. “If there’s magic, it’s only because of you.”