#pepper the one eyed hamster

[the-teeny-bees-hams]

She will commit multiple warcrimes for peanut butter

[ibuki-says]

Stunned Silence

Pairing: Mikan Tsumiki x Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu

Rating: PG-13 - Just cursing 

Word Count: 1,180

Spoilers?: None! Non-despair AU 

Prompt: “I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

A nurse’s job is to help people. That was pretty much all Mikan Tsumiki assumed she was good for. As long as she was there to patch her friends up, there was no way they could hate her! She wore this badge on her apron with pride every time one of her friends ambled into the office while she was working. Of course, there was the official ‘school nurse,’ but Mikan helped just as much, especially when she wasn’t available! Flitting from friend to friend, offering band-aids and kind words of reassurance, Mikan always felt content. Unfortunately, not all of them were so accepting of her assistance. 

“Ibuki, if you are going to unnecessarily drag the Supreme Overlord of Ice out to eat lunch with you mortals, I advise you turn down the amplifier. Lest you want the Four Dark Devas of Destruction to rain hellfire upon you and your instrument!” The lunch table was as lively as ever, a soft smile played on Mikan’s lips as she watched the four hamsters from under Gundham’s scarf. It was always difficult to get everyone together for times like this, but it made her really happy when they were able to. Despite his eccentric ways of speaking, she grew to learn that in the end, he was simply worried for their health. Evidently, not everyone saw it that way as Kazuichi rolled his eyes from across the table. 

“C’mon man! Don’t be such a spoilsport! Let her play her music!” He defended the musician, leaning forward in his seat. Worried about the tensions rising even more, or even worse, things breaking out into a fight, Mikan shyly raised her hand. “U-um, proper care of your ears is important for humans too….not just hamsters.” She quietly spoke up, though feeling tears begin to well in her eyes as everyone stared at her. 

“Oooooo, gotcha Mikan!! Haha, Ibuki forgot this wasn’t a stage...or a concert.” Ibuki chuckled as she lowered the volume of the amp, thus seemingly diffusing the tension at the table as well. However, as lunch progressed, an absence in the group became glaringly obvious. 

“Hey...does anyone know where Fuyuhiko is?” Hajime piped up, finally stating the elephant in the room. In an instant, almost all eyes at the table turned to Peko, who seemed to accompany the short blonde yakuza wherever he went. Seeming uncomfortable with the sudden attention, she flushed in her seat. 

“I apologize. I have about a good of an idea of where he is as you all.” She stated before returning to her food. An uneasy silence fell over the group as they pondered the whereabouts of their missing friend. As the saying goes, speak of the devil and he shall appear-

“Ah, Fuyuhiko! We were all so worried!” Nagito cheerfully exclaimed, causing the rest of the group to turn towards where he was looking. Mikan almost fell out of her chair noticing the state of him. His suit was disheveled and there were numerous cuts and bruises peppering his form. He scowled at them as he shoved his hands in his pockets. 

“What are you all fuckin’ staring at? Didn’t have time to stop home, not that fuckin’ suprising.” He practically snarled, clearing hating the attention that was suddenly thrust on him. Despite her better judgement, Mikan’s nature as a nurse overcame her as she felt herself standing and rushing to Fuyuhiko’s side. 

“Please let me treat your wounds!” She stated, rather than asking, already beginning to look over all of them. Reacting almost as if she was toxic, Fuyuhiko immediately jerked away. 

“I’m fine!” He brushed her off, turning away from the nurse. Not being able to shake her concern, Mikan attempted to move once again in his view. 

“Even the smallest cuts can become infected and cause major problems! I-I still think it’s important!” She pleaded, hoping he would see reason and allow her to help him. 

“I said I’m fucking fine!” He snapped, pulling away from her more aggressively this time. With that, silence fell over the lunch table once more, Mikan especially looked at him with wide-eyed shock. She never would have pushed if he didn’t have a history of relenting and allowing her to treat him. The tension in the air was palpable as not even any of the Devas dared make a squeak. Fuyuhiko’s furious expression seemed to falter for just a moment before scoffing and stalking off. After a beat or two more of stunned silence, the lunchtime conversation gradually began again, whether it be speaking of the incident that just occured or quickly changing the subject. However, Mikan couldn’t bring herself to move. She was barely able to react, even to cry, and simply stared blankly at Fuyuhiko’s retreating form. 

By the end of the day, the incident still weighed heavily on Mikan’s mind. Throughout the day, several of her classmates had dropped in, whether it be needing help or to simply spend some time with the fragile nurse. Even Hiyoko had offered a word or two of...sympathy? Honestly, refraining from calling Mikan a trashy pigshit was practically charity when it came to the foul-mouthed blonde. Mikan kept herself busy even when students weren’t there, a feeble attempt occupy her mind with thoughts other than self deprecating ones associated with her failure to help a classmate earlier. She was putting away some student medical files when she heard the old door creak open once more. She immediately turned with a soft smile on her face, on that immediately dropped when she noticed who had come to visit her. The person letting the door close behind him and was now alone in her office with her was none other than Fuyuhiko. For a moment, no one said anything.

“U-um, Fuyuhiko? Is something wrong?” Mikan asked gently, nervously wringing her hands as she waited for the blonde yakuza to speak. Letting out a sigh, Fuyuhiko made his way to one of the cots and sat, Mikan cautiously following him with her eyes, not allowing herself to move quite yet. 

“I just- I’m- Fuck.” He was clearly struggling with his words, fiddling with his tie in frustration. “I’m...I’m sorry I yelled at you. You were just trying to help, and I took my anger out on you.” After speaking, he turned his attention away from his tie and looked up to her. For a moment, Mikan simply had to process this. An apology was one of the last things she had expected to come out of an heir to a yakuza’s mouth. To her no less. After a beat, she gave him a gentle smile. “I forgive you.” She simply stated as she watched his posture almost instantly become less tense. “Now will you...will you allow me to treat your wounds?” A genuine smile cracked though Fuyuhiko’s tough exterior as he nodded. The tension in the air had completely evaporated by the time Mikan arrived back to the cot with the supplies she needed. “Hold still. I’ll have you all cleaned up in no time.”

[jinkisbelly]

Hearth

Pairing: ot5

Rating: pg, minus a blowjob offer

W/c: 3.7k

Warnings: uh food and wine? Kibum gets a bit tipsy but thats it

Summary:  With their busy lives and schoolwork, it's hard to find time altogether, but a game night is exactly what they all needed.

A/n: This was for prompt 31, for summer of shinee pt 2, which was: shinee but they're playing monopoly instead of working on projectsI hope you enjoy this small thing ^_^

AFF    Ao3

          He grimaced as he stared at his reflection in the newly wiped clean mirror. The steam from the shower was still billowing around him, hair dripping water droplets as he pushed it from his forehead, and a towel resting over his shoulders. Staring back was dark circles from too much stress and too little sleep. With a deep sigh, Jinki tugged open the cabinet and effectively cut off the picture of himself as he reached in for his moisturizer. Kibum would never forgive him if he forgot his skincare. ‘You may look dead on your feet, but at least you won’t have wrinkles.’ . Jinki found himself quietly laughing as he patted in the cool liquid into his cheeks at the memory of Kibum’s long fingers pressing some unknown facial cleanser onto his face, having his bottom lip tugged between in concentration as if it was the hardest thing he had focused on. The other man should be home soon with dinner. Taemin had been in charge of ordering it and Jinki was both excited and hesitant to see what the youngest man had chosen.

          There was a reason more often than not on Taemin’s turn at dinner they always ate out, mainly because it gave him certain parameters to pick from. Given free reign, milk was always found where it shouldn’t, like ramen. Jinki shivered a little at the reminder of THAT incident. Jonghyun reacted so badly to the spice and milk combination that he spent the next day making friends with the bathroom. There was always a limit on the things he’d do for the men he loves. Lying through his teeth about how great Taemin’s cooking was, well that was one of them. The youngest’s history with weird food combinations and risky take out orders was the main reason Kibum always was responsible for the night after his. The chef of their little group always made sure to make it all up to them with something tasty.

          Stepping into the room that he and Jonghyun shared, he was surprised to find Minho spread eagle on the bed. Last he knew the man was still at the university working with his group on the social differences between genders in competitive sports. His phone was held close to his face as he scrolled through something, the light of the screen reflecting off of his glasses. The bathroom door hinge squeaked as it was pushed open and Minho’s head snapped up, a huge smile blooming on his face. He scrambled up from his stomach, sitting back on his knees and accepting the soft kiss Jinki presses to his lips with a sigh. “Not that I’m not glad to see you, Love, but why are you here?”

          “Two of the three people didn’t show up. So the two of us that did show up figured we could do our parts at home.” Minho flopped back onto the bed, spreading his legs out in front of him, “Jonghyun and Kibum left for the food, and Taemin is currently trying to teach his hamster how to jump through a hoop, so I came in here to wait for you .”

          Jinki tugged on his sweatpants, tripping a little on his slippers he forgot were there, and tried to imagine how well that was going. “How is Cheese doing on that?”

          “Oh terribly. When I dropped my bag in the room all Cheese was doing was stealing the snack Taemin was holding and running away.” He could have sworn he had a shirt laid out before he headed into the bathroom, now where was the stupid thing? He looked up when Minho cleared his throat, “Are you looking for this?”

          Sure enough, held out was the shirt he was looking for. It was one of Jonghyun’s from high school, it was softened with time and too many washes, the lettering half faded on the chest.  He grabbed it with a sheepish grin before pulling it over his head. “Thanks, Love.”

          As soon as Jinki was on the bed next to him, Minho had his head against his shoulder, finding his hand to play with his fingers, “How was your day?”

          “I taught undergrads today. It was to be as expected.” With their busy schedules, it wasn’t often than Jinki got to see Minho for more than an hour a day it seemed, and most of that was getting ready to be somewhere else or the younger man making sure he remembered to eat something. He was always horrid at remembering to eat, which is why most of the time either Minho or Kibum made sure he had snacks in the front pocket of his backpack. The distant sound of chaos entering their home caused both men to glance toward the closed door. “I think the food’s here.”

          “From the sound of things, I don’t think Kibum approves of what Taemin ordered.” Minho hummed happily when Jinki pressed a kiss to his hair before both men headed toward the door. The sound of voices increased as the door was pulled open, and Jinki shook his head fondly as he followed Minho toward the rest of their little family.

----

          The dining room table was a second-hand piece of furniture Jinki and Kibum had gotten from a yard sale when they decided to move into a bigger place. It once had been a dark cherry wood, but the color had faded and bits were chipped and scratched from all the mayhem that descended upon it over the last two years. Not that anyone could see the table’s surface with the collection of binders, folders, papers, and calculators spread across the surface from where Jonghyun and Minho always set up shop to do their projects. The last time they had used it to eat off was two months ago when Taemin’s family came to visit and Kibum had made them all dinner. That being said, when Jinki and Minho entered the living room from the hall the food was already being spread out on the coffee table in the living room. From the looks of things, he ordered chicken wings. Which didn’t explain Kibum’s loud reaction to the food at all.

          When he spotted the sauce options chosen, that did, however. Blueberry barbeque sauce and garlic pepper, both mixed in together like some sort of strange concoction. Kibum looked one touch away from losing his chef mind, concern so vivid on his pretty features. Jonghyun looked like he was a mixture of amused, worried, and distraught in his own way. As Jinki slipped past the duo, he squeezed Jonghyun’s hip and kissed Kibum’s cheek. “It can’t be that bad, Bommie.”

          Jonghyun, grim as can be, shook his head, “Oh it can be, Baby, oh it can be.”

          Kibum pressed his lips together before turning completely on his heel, disappearing behind them for a moment. There was clanking, and something popping open. When he emerged again there was a bottle of wine in his hand. By his tongue lapping at his lips, he had already taken a swig. “Really?”

          “Let me forget his sins, Old Man.”

          Jinki eyed the bottle even as Jonghyun and Minho got busy pulling out the food from the bags and Taemin could be heard coming down the hall. Before Kibum could react, he gripped the bottle and pulled it, taking a long swig. Oh, gross, it’s red. He handed the bottle back with a grimace. “My day was bad, but not bad enough to willingly drink red wine.”

          Kibum stepped closer, wrapping his free hand around to rest on Jinki’s hip and kiss his temple. “There’s whiskey in the kitchen if you want a drink, but let’s eat and you can tell us about it.”

------

          The food had been eaten, and while strange, the sauce combination hadn’t been as bad as Kibum and Jonghyun made it out to be. Then again, Jinki loved chicken so much it was very hard to make him upset while consuming it.  Minho had taken their plates into the kitchen to clean because of it being his night for dishes.  Kibum was sprawled out on the couch, sipping the same bottle of wine he had shared with Jonghyun throughout dinner. The younger man had his fingers moving through Jinki’s hair as he leaned back against the front of the couch, legs under the table. Taemin had taken the opportunity to fall against his left side, hugging his arm loosely as they glanced at the drama that happened to be on the television when they turned it on for background noise.

          Jinki laid his head back against the cushion, eyes closing feeling Kibum’s long fingers scratch against his scalp. He was sure there was something important he needed to finish for school, but he couldn’t pinpoint what it was exactly with how good Kibum’s fingers felt. The man’s deep voice was quiet as he spoke, wine and drowsiness making him talk slower. “I’m sorry today was so bad, Baby.”

          “Not your fault undergrads are really stressful.”

          Taemin huffed, his breath fanning out over his shoulder as he shifted his head to look up at him. “Hey!”

          Kibum shifted closer until his head was against the edge of the cushion and the bottle of wine was gently placed on the floor beside Jinki. Before he could be disappointed that the fingers in his hair stopped, Kibum moved them again after adjusting his hand. “You’ll get to rag on undergrads soon, Taemin.”

          “Not soon enough.” The youngest grumbled, grabbing his cup to sip from the straw.

          “I should probably do my paper that’s due.” Kibum deeply sighed, his breath fluttering a bit of Jinki’s fringe hanging over his forehead.

          He turned his head until his right cheek was against the couch, smiling softly when Kibum’s fond grin came into view. “When is it due?”

          “Next Wednesday.”

          The topic of the conversation was momentarily forgotten as he gazed at his lover. While he knew Kibum was always pretty, it was moments like this that reminded Jinki just how beautiful he was. His eyelashes fluttering with his drowsiness, his hair falling in soft dark waves away from his face, and flush in his cheeks from his wine. The black hair was different than the blond Kibum had when they first started dating, but Jinki rather liked how his natural hair looked. Oh right, they were talking about something. “You have time to do it later.”

          Something sparked in Kibum’s dark eyes and his lips quirked up as he spoke, “You just don’t want me to stop playing with your hair.”

          “Guilty as charged.”

          A loud growl from their left had all of them looking in that direction. They found Jonghyun standing by the dining room table, leaning heavily on his hands and his hair falling from the tiny ponytail on top of his head into his eyes. Minho popped his head out from the kitchen, brows furrowed, “You alright?”

          “My research assistant forgot to get consent from the last group! I can’t use any of this data.” He lifted his hand, a stack of papers crumped in his harsh grip. “I have to do this all over and I don’t know if I have time and-”

          Minho swooped in close, tugging Jonghyun away from the tabletop and hugged him close. “Put the papers down. Worry about this tomorrow.”

          “But-”

          It was Taemin who chirped from his comfy spot, “We should play a board game instead.”

          Jinki could see Jonghyun was pushing up on his toes to see over Minho’s shoulder, but his voice carried over the distance. “What kind of board game?”

          Taemin sat up fully and grinned, “Monopoly of course.”

-----

          Jonghyun was sitting on Jinki and Minho more than the couch as Taemin came back into the room with the game. Kibum had moved onto the floor, his bottle of wine sitting on the table before him as he leaned his head on his palm and gazed at his three lovers on the couch. Jinki was whispering something against Jonghyun’s hair, causing the man to slowly smile and rouge to paint across his cheeks. Kibum was too tipsy to focus enough to make out what he was saying, but it still made him smile to see Jonghyun begin to giggle because of the oldest man. Minho was gently patting Jonghyun’s shins, leaning heavily on Jinki’s shoulder, but he grinned when Kibum caught his gaze.

          And then Taemin decided to shatter the soft, serene air by dead dropping the monopoly box onto the table. All eyes fell on the youngest, who grinned widely. “I can’t wait to kick y’all’s asses.”

          “Kibum and Jinki are tied with the most number of wins, Bub.” Minho quipped as he lifted Jonghyun’s legs to slip onto the ground, pulling the game box closer to him. Using the top, he pointed at Taemin as he continued. “You’re in last place.”

          “We’ll see.” Taemin’s tongue was poked out of the side of his mouth as he picked up the dark orange 500 dollar bills and began counting out the correct number of bills. All was good until he hit the 20’s, in which his hands lowered into his lap and he stared up at Jinki on the couch. “How many again?”

          “Six, Tae.” Came Jinki’s soft reply. His eyes were closed, a dazed smile on his face as Jonghyun played with his hair. Jonghyun chuckled, knowing that it was always the twenties Taemin forgot the quantity of. “Do I get a night off from being the banker?”

          As Taemin happily called out, yes, the other three men unanimously agreed. “No.”

          “I can do it.” Somehow Taemin always managed to make his voice carry the fact he was pouting deeply.

          “You say that and then after you have to do the math you push it towards Jinki. It’s alright.” Minho hummed, setting out the correct pieces. The Scottish dog for Jonghyun. The thimble for Jinki.The top hat for Kibum. The running shoe for himself, and finally, the car for Taemin. The other three were put back into the top of the box placed on the floor to his right.

          The money stacks were placed around the table and Kibum smacked his mouth after swallowing another sip of wine. “Alright old men, you have to come down now.”

          As soon as Jonghyun had managed to remove himself from the other’s lap, Jinki leaned forward and cracked his knuckles with a sleepy grin. “Who’s ready to lose?”

------

          It was Jinki, Minho and Taemin left. Kibum and Jonghyun had moved back onto the couch, the two men a tangle of limbs as Kibum snoozed with his cheek squished on Jonghyun’s shoulder. As soon as his little snores and nose whistles had been heard Jinki had looked behind him with a smile. Jonghyun looked like he was very close to following their lover’s footsteps, his eyes fluttering as he fought the pull of sleep. After finishing his turn, Minho pushed off the ground to pull the blanket from the recliner and toss it over the two of them.

          Jonghyun mumbled, “Thanks.”

          Taemin was still blowing on the dice, eyeing Jinki’s hotels on park place and boardwalk, when Minho returned to his spot. They all knew if he landed on either of those he was done for. Five or seven would be his doom. He had an 80 percent chance of getting around it safely, but as he finally let go of his dice, one quickly landed on a four while the other kept rolling until it fell off the board onto the table in front of Minho. Face up was a three. “Fuck!”

          “That’ll be two grand, please.”

          “Don’t sound so smug,” Jonghyun rumbled, hand falling from his tummy to pat Jinki in the back of the head.

          Taemin slowly went through flipping over his leftover properties and adding up their worths. Next were his few remaining houses and his one hotel. He had his little bit of cash gripped between both of his hands when he whipped his head up and asked, almost desperately. “If I blow you can I get a ‘get off boardwalk’ free card?”

          Minho choked on the bit of leftover wine in Kibum’s discarded bottle he was attempting to swallow as Jinki snorted. “While I’d love for you to suck my cock, I’m going to have to decline.”

          “Awh! Come on Babe, cut me some slack.”

          “We’ve been playing for two hours, Taemin.” Jinki ran his fingers through his hair to get it from his eyes, tired smile on his face. “I want to end this quickly so we can sleep.”

          Taemin sighed before pushing everything of his over to Jinki with a frown. “I guess I’ll admit defeat for that.”

          Jinki gathered his payment in a neat little pile before gathering the dice and rolling. Minho wasn’t as bad off as Taemin had been, and causing him to go bankrupt would require more than just a single boardwalk landing. Moving three had him visiting in jail. Finishing his turn, he pushed the dice over towards Minho before focusing on organizing his newly acquired items. Out of the corner of his eye, he was aware of the man moving his piece the correct amount of spaces on the dice, managing to bypass Jinki’s dark green properties and landing right before Park Place. Taemin hissed out, “Lucky bastard.”

          “I’m not safe yet, Bub.” Minho handed over the dice into Jinki’s palm with a grimace. “Remind me to never let Jinki get Boardwalk ever again.”

          “You make it seem like you had a choice.” Jinki grinned as he began to shake the dice in his fist. “I’ll make you a bet, Baby.”

          Minho’s eyebrow rose, intrigue shifting on his face. “Oh praytell.”

          “Name a number, any number 2 through 12. If I roll it, you win without exceptions.”

          “Just like that?”

          “Just like that.”

          “And if you don’t roll it?”

          “We keep playing.”

          With narrowed eyes, Minho agreed, holding out his hand to take Jinki’s to shake. “Agreed. The number is 12.”

          After a few more shakes, Jinki let his fist open and the dice clattered across the board before slowly rolling to a stop. Two sixes were clear as day facing up, and Minho whooped startling both men on the couch. Kibum whined, glaring harshly as his nostrils flared with his quick breathing. Jinki sighed with a fond smile as he leaned over to kiss Minho on the cheek after rising to his knees. “Congratulations, Baby.”

-----

          The water could be heard running through the open door of the bathroom. As well as the telltale sounds of Jonghyun brushing his teeth when the door hinge of the bedroom door squeaked. Coming through was Taemin, boxers low on his hips and hair a shaggy mess on his head. Jinki closed his book and pushed it on the bedside table with a smile. “Can I sleep with you two tonight?”

          “Of course. Climb on in, Love.” Taemin beamed and half face planted into the middle of the mattress. Jinki shook his head even as he reached over to fix the younger man’s hair. “That is not what I meant.”

          “It’s so fun to do it now.” He commented as he flopped onto his back and wiggled under the covers. “Thanks for not being in each other’s throats like the other two.”

          With a snort, Jinki asked, “Oh, is that why you graced us with your presence?”

          “Only half.” His cheeks were slightly pink with the admitted answers. “I also missed you two.”

          "Kibum was half asleep when Minho helped him to bed, how'd that turn into sex?"

          "Well they were bickering about Minho startling him awake at the end there and you know..." Taemin trailed off, but Jinki did know very well. Minho and Kibum arguing usually led to them having sex on the nearest surface, even the kitchen more times than Jinki wanted to admit he walked in on.

          In the dim light of the bedside lamp and the open bathroom door, Taemin’s chest scars were visible. They were light pink as he was on the far end of his healing journey, but it still brought a smile to Jinki’s face to see the man so comfortable without his shirt on. Settling down beside him, Jinki rested his fingertips barely on the scars.“They’re healing very nicely.”

          “Oh, yeah.” The warmth of his smile almost knocks the wind out of Jinki’s chest it’s so beautiful and free. It reminds him of just how far Taemin has come since they met almost four years before. Taemin snuggles closer, cheek squished with how close he moved into Jinki and trapping the older man’s hand between them. After removing it, Jinki wraps his arm around Taemin to keep him close. His voice is quiet and fluttery, as he relaxes in Jinki’s embrace. “You smell good.”

          “Thank you.” Taemin’s breathing was slowing and by a quick glance down, it was obvious he was beginning to fall asleep. Jinki kissed his forehead softly, lingering for a few moments before barely moving away to whisper, “Goodnight, Baby.”

          A few minutes later, Jonghyun shuffled out of the bathroom. He hooked up his phone to his charger and carefully sat on his side of the bed. He wiggled closer to Taemin, throwing an arm around his narrow waist and resting his chin on the younger man’s shoulder to gaze at Jinki. Pushing up slightly, he managed to catch Jinki’s lips softly. “Goodnight, Love.”

          “Sweet dreams, beautiful.”

          As they curled up, Jonghyun’s nose in the back of Taemin’s hair, Jinki’s chin resting on the top of Taemin’s head, and their legs a mess of limbs as they tried to find a comfortable spot, Jinki reached above him to turn the bedside lamp off by the switch on the headboard. He fell asleep with his arm over two of his lovers, smiling slightly as Jonghyun’s fingers tried to curl a little against his side. Sure, tomorrow they all had important things to finish, but right then none of that mattered. Jinki felt like he was finally home, wrapped up in the embrace of one of his lovers. A part of him wishes the other two were there too, but he would enjoy what he had, for it was more than enough.

[borkthemork]

Nightly Escapade (A Messy Drive Date Connverse Fic)

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: General

Words: 5,158

Pairings: Steven/Connie (Connverse)

Summary: Movies are perfect. What's not to like about them? They're stories told on the big screen, they could leave you shaking from the flood works or clammy from the explosions and ticking timers, and, most importantly, it's the best plan if two lovers ever wanted to go on a date. For Connie and Steven: planning a movie date was easy, there's nothing better than preparing a good ole' car of refreshments for a long drive, but executing it (without it going wrong) was another thing entirely.

Reblogs are appreciated!

He should've gotten them sooner.

One could retort that he only heard of the movie details today, but he felt guilty regardless when he eyed the lack of vacancy when he tried to apply his—newly gained—credit card to it. It was a one-in-a-million (or was it a billion? He'd have to ask Connie later) experience, and since his jam bud now had access to PG-13 movies just like he did, they thought it would be a great time to start something. An adventure. Or was it a date? A cool date adventure!

…

Dateventure!

Hahaha, he was a genius!

When she arrived at his house—naïve to the idea being dashed to shreds—he told her of the lack of tickets, feeling the crummy jumble of his heart with each shift in expression Connie had. She was looking forward to this film; she would rant and rave about Ghibli films like they were cinematic masterpieces, leaving him confused but intrigued. He never touched a Ghibli film before, so it was a beginning bout of interest that made him ask what was so special about them in the first place.

"You don't understand," she lamented when asking days prior, "Princess Mononoke was way ahead with its themes and dynamics regarding nature and humans. I would trade my own hands—not really since I need them—to see it on the big screen! To see it on any type of high-definition!"

Who knew Delmarva starved for this kind of content? Well, he should've recognized this when Ronaldo brigaded him with film advice but he never really took those consolations in a serious light. Even if he did, he still would've been short of time.

Now they’re here: Connie pacing in his room under the beating weather; fingers on her chin, her shoes clicking on the floorboards with hardened focus. "Well, we could see another movie since it's not that big of a deal."

Steven was fumbling with the wrinkles of his bedsheets, the screen of his laptop closed in a subtle defeat. The guilt fettering his torso. "I'm sorry, Connie. I know that you really wanted to see it."

"Hey, it's all right." She smiled at him. "Even if we can't see the movie, why not just go on the date, anyway?"

She stumbled with the word when it came down to it, shooting him an awkward glance. His stomach was bound in a knot; this was the first time they ever mentioned it out loud.

"Yeah!" He piped up, cheeks flushed in heat. "Nothing can stop us, we're jam buds after all!"

A petal-soft laugh. "Jam buds 'til the very end."

With that, they got started. The problem with planning—and the advantage of their duo—came down to the many ideas flung around the room like paper balls in the occurring scuffle for supplies. Steven would suggest something and then Connie would add to it—flinging it back to Steven and then back to her—until the ideas they've manifested became more like snowballs the size of boulders. So the tiny notion of a movie date transformed into a nightly car date, the dondai befitting blankets, a radio, a grocery bag of snacks, and other accoutrements such as the medkit bunched in the back. When asked about it, Connie remarked with a simple, albeit embarrassed, "better safe than sorry" as they listed off their roster.

"So, let's get this plan straightened out one more time," she announced in the car, Steven saddling up his seatbelt and fiddling with the ignition. "We're only following the routes near the coastline. I have some money we could use if we ever run out of gas cans. If we see an ice cream stand, we're definitely stopping for it. And—"

"We'll drive to Viewover Point so we can watch Unfamiliar Familiar at the drive-in," he concluded, churning out a carnie accent. "Now in 3-D with a limited purchase of Archimicarus and Lisa chibi plushies for only nine ninety-five!"

She laughed. "Correct! And we'll buy ten of them, five for you and five for me."

"What about fifteen?"

"Twenty?"

"Thirty!"

"Fifty!"

Both of them exploded into giggles, Connie playfully smacking with his shoulder. "Just drive!"

The engine growled to life. With the sun still perched in the sky, the two of them drove off with a rumbling trail of radio music and road-crunched gravel, not a single worry in mind; just two best friends against the long-winding asphalt lines.

-----

There’s a thing Steven had to learn the first time he began his traverse into the world of semi-adulthood: that driving had a few loopholes that society was okay with trespassing into. In one particular memory, he attempted and went with the minimum speed range in Ocean Town—following the procedures, being loyal to the rules for the sake of being a good Samaritan—only for a cop car to drive alongside his window to force himself to speed up, whose eyebrow quirked in irritation. Apparently, the road he occupied was one lane, and the townies (ranging from a mile long) behind him weren’t happy about it.

He tried to laugh it off, brush it off like it was sand peppering his shoulders, but Connie was with him when it happened. She never let him down for it. Ever.

And that’s what lead to them bolting past the Beach City safety limits, windows popped open—gushing them with the wind—as the two hollered over the Mike Krol ratatat’ing their space. Overall, he’d like to thank Beach Town for this valuable lesson. He’ll never forget it.

“What if I told you that the world was gonna end!” Connie held an unopened granola bar, singing into it as Steven did a clean turn, the tail of their car following the drift in consecutive ease; the windows displayed to the right reflecting sheens of the calm ocean, skies bearing unrestrained galaxies from light-years away.

She directed the granola towards him, who yelled out in glee, “and you had fifteen minutes to spend with me or your friends!?”

“I guess we don’t even need to use the phone!”

“I don’t need your answer, I’ll be spending it alone!”

Cue the dance break. Connie did a little jig in her seat as he rocked his head to the remainder of the rhythm, heart battling in his chest, hoping that his attentiveness could keep them alive at the presence of the cliff that loomed to the right of them. Their laughter was of pure delight, wild and untamed, the childlike initiative riling them like cinders.

At the introduction of the woods behind an impending crossroads, he made a left turn, cutting into the Delmarva wood.

“Wait, that’s the wrong way!” Connie said.

“What!” He tried to turn it around but it was too late. The car clipped from the road, leading them scrambling in a quaking mess, the vehicle gatling its way into the unknown, into the webs of branches and darkness.

Ears pounding with the tremors.

The violent shudders.

Dissonant heaves.

And groans.

It then stopped. A warmth enveloped them in a luster of pink, the car remaining still as the creaks of its metal came to a halt. He looked over to Connie, easing his heart when he saw that she looked fine. Disoriented, confused, but fine. The windows were crowded by brambles, of hardwood needles, trickles of murk peaking in between.

He groaned, rubbing his head. The dizziness settled down. "Strawberry, you okay?"

"Roger that, biscuit." She unclipped her belt, heaving out breaths as the two of them calmed their frazzled senses, inspecting the enclosed space around them with unease. They were settled in the belly of a mechanical beast, brittle with cracked glass and wretched frame, the outside covered in dimly lit brush. "That was a close call though. The air bags didn't even work."

"Either that or my bubble’s forcing it down." He considered the sturdy barrier. It wasn't a bubble, looked more of a compartment that twitched and receded when they moved too much in the limited spacing, glowing its familiar hues and glint. He needed to meddle with this later. "We should get out though."

A brief nod. "Agreed."

He didn't know how long it took. All he could focus on was the buzz in his ears and the careful work he did to keep the bubble (morphing and melding to his command) under control as they crept out by the backseats; courtesy of Connie, who didn’t hesitate to pierce one of his windows with the medkit when the doors didn’t budge.

In the final shimmy, the two of them plopped onto an unsteady incline of dirt—the bubble dissipating—keeping hold of one another until the pathway below them cleared to unrooted ground. Glancing through the canopy overhead, Steven thought of it as a giant colander; how the moon pouring into his sights a few moments ago was now trying its best to sneak past the floral arms, to catch him even while shrouded in cold.

"Okay," Steven felt Connie's hand wrap around his, easing up as she started to move, his eyes trying his best to follow her outlines. She pointed to a mess of lights opposite the car, meshed with the silhouettes of broken-limbed shrubbery. "We came from there. Let's try to get some cell service, that way we can get a tow truck to our location and the dondai."

"Oh, man." Steven looked back at his car, a wheeze in his throat. "Yeah, we definitely need a truck because the car's donedai!"

Nothing but an awkward chuckle. "Stay focused, Steven. Let's go."

The woods were thick with underbrush. Portions coddled them in aggravating clumps, having them push and shove their way through. A good thing about Steven, however, was that they ignored this with a snap of his bubble, hamster rolling their way out through the elongated tunnel they burrowed through the brier. He would minimize it when the arching leaves and branches were too stubborn to part, and sometimes the spikes protruded from them like machetes, ready to press and nip them into splinters.

"How far did we drive in?" Connie mumbled after a few minutes passed. Leaves nested themselves in her hair, the scuffs on her arms still muddied from their vehicular escape. In all honesty, it reminded him of earlier days, where they wandered the Delmarva wood with nothing big to solve, their imagination pulling their way to the next great exploit. "It looks like we’ve gotten way off the mark."

He winced. “Don’t worry, we’ll be okay.”

“Steven, are you sure?”

“I’m positive.” He told her. “I’m just pining for a way out, you know? We’ll be fine in no time.”

“Steven, we've been at it for five minutes.”

"If that’s the case we're in a sticky situation then," Steven said, letting out a high-strung chuckle. "If I just took the right turn, we woodn't be here."

She halted in her tracks—the boy tripping from the stop, saving himself before he slammed into the bubble. "Steven, tell me."

"Hm?" He looked over, scrambling straight. "Why d'you stop?"

"Something's on your mind," she said. "And we'll not take another step until you spill the beans."

"Well, the beans are back in the trunk."

"Steven!"

He jumped. "Okay, okay! Sorry, I won't joke about beans anymore."

"That's not what I'm talking about here." She rubbed the bridge of her nose, fatigue on her lips. "Something's bugging you; I don't want to make any assumptions so you need to be honest with me." Her countenance softened, Steven bristling at the slight squeeze of his hand. "Please."

He wasn't the kind to turn the other way, especially with the plaguing memory of separation that tailed him ever since he lied to her two years ago. A promise was a promise, a solid bond of trust he’d never wanted to break, and even if the anxiety toiled and fought against him, he couldn't help but be reassured that Connie would still be there regardless. She was his jam bud. His confidant when the times oozed by. One of the few people he could open up to in a clear fashion. What was he afraid of? Nothing, hopefully.

He released a sigh—ladened, heavy-like. "I don't know, I just feel like such a dunce sometimes."

She knitted her eyebrows. With a swift beckon of her hand they sat down, still enraptured in rose pink; words soft, gesturing him forward. "And?"

"We were having such an amazing time," he crossed his legs, not helping the lean for warmth as she pulled him towards her, the thump of her pulse meeting with his own, "and we had these plans, these amazing plans, but I was able to ruin it in a single minute because I didn't follow the route." A scoff. "A new world record. It makes me wonder why I deserve you sometimes if I could mess up something simple like a dateventure."

"Hey, now!" They held contact, her voice stern. A shudder overcame him, feeling the slivers of grit in the way she spoke. "That's not true. Trust me when I say this: you're the best thing that has ever happened to me and I'll not let your self-doubt believe anything else. You messed nothing up, I’m serious about that."

"But the tickets."

"They were out before we even checked on them."

"The dondai."

"We'll find a shop that'll fix it up."

"But what about Viewover Point?"

"From what I've heard the reviews weren't that good." She shrugged, fingers weaving through his chocolate curls, careful and diligent, each press to his scalp making his lids heavy. "And I wasn't gonna enjoy the movie anyway if you weren't there to have fun with me."

“So, you’re not mad.”

“I could get mad,” Connie murmured, “but what’s there to be mad about? We’ve been through worse stuff than this, way worse, nothing will make me full-on angry with you, period. You’re important to me, and I’d rather fix our messes than leave someone else to fix it for us.”

The dance of her fingertips made him hum, clouded, lifted elsewhere to a softer portion of his mind; he wondered if Connie always had this effect on people, to calm them with the rationality and pin-point affection that they needed? Or maybe it was just him who felt that way? Maybe he cared too much? Perhaps...it was enough.

He allowed himself to breathe—in and out—until the tension in his shoulders melted to nothing; heaviness still resided, but everything appeared more comprehensible now, less complicated than what he described in his brain. With it came an idea. A goal. Something to accomplish. He affixed her a look. "When we find some wifi, would you like to stargaze with me?"

She chuckled. "Why wouldn't I, you dork?"

"I just wanted to ask." He stood up from his place, inviting her with an outstretched hand. She reciprocated, comfort collecting in his palms. "Because if we’re going to make the most of it, we might as well enjoy each other’s company."

Her hand tightened on his, thumb brushing down on his knuckles. “An adventure then.”

Steven nodded, beaming of joy—heart rattling in his chest. “A dateventure.”

“Fine.” She snorted, motioning them forward, the light at the end growing to the size of a faint firefly. “A dateventure.”

Their trek was masked in the brilliance of pink, holding on to the other as the illumination in front of them grew to the size of golf balls—relieved that the bubble saved them from bumbling ceaselessly in the dark. With their advancement, they went faster. Each spike pierced the natural fetters, leaving Steven in a fit of elation when they pushed through, their barrier popping at the final trudge.

The floor was a mess of tickling thicket. He giggled at the brambles, dirt crawled up into the niches of his jacket. Connie was beside him, stretching her legs as she stood up, noticeable in the newly acquired light.

The environment returned to quiet solitude. Steven gave it a mindful gaze: in front of him were the dug-in trenches left from the remainders of the dondai's wheel tracks, each recess printed with its cross-cross and trailing-black smears; the moon brought itself past the covering of shaded evergreen like an angel, leaving them doused in glare; the road was discernible against the earth, cracked and marked with fading yellow lines, making him wonder how deep the direction would've gone if he kept course.

Connie ushered them to walk.

The trek emulated his reveries. Calls of the night sang to them in a cacophony of rustles, hoots, and night creature scuttles; Connie, in her rousing, stopped at certain points to name plants and animals that festered around them, easy to find when she raced off to examine a retreating mammal or lizard.

"That is an owl, of course." She noted the furry-cocoon from a faraway tree, who, if one faltered their blinking, shot them split-second glances with worn yellow specs. "Probably a great-horned owl; look at the tufts on its head!"

Steven squinted. Above the brow, the bird adorned furry wisps, reminiscent of a character from Connie's favorite series. "Wow! How did you know?"

"I had a book about Delmarva geography before. I sold it since I didn’t have much use for it when I finished, but I'm surprised it came in handy now."

He pointed over to the trees. "Then what are those?"

She rubbed her chin. "If I could recall, they’re sweet gum trees...or maybe black gum. I don't remember the difference between them," she admitted.

"That's cool, though." He told her, surveying the wildlife, a wonder pooling on his own. "How come we never do nature walks? It's so peaceful here." Even if the shadows lingered, he emitted of pleasure, the crave of curiosity like a boy first exposed to something new. This was one of the few times where he didn't feel like he was about to perish under some forsaken weight; the concept of having himself run around in terror or disgruntlement long over.

“We just never had the time to. With the two years you’ve been busy and my space camp involvement, the prospect of it never hit me,” she nudged him, a zephyr trailing past them. “But it wouldn’t be too late to start now.”

He grinned. “You see any hills, captain?”

A tilt of her head. Then a pointed finger to a far off ascent. “There!”

“Race you there!” Without hesitation, Steven broke off into a sprint.

Connie, in a fit of snickers, darted after him with an undignified yell.

Fast-smeared colors. Blur of the tenebrous. The rush of one’s ears, laughing in bounding race, lighting the sky with ardor. Fireworks—music—bursting with each spring and skip, Steven crying out in gaiety. Pain and guilt weren’t his master, for he took the reins of the woodlands and made them his own; satisfaction kindling his heart to the size of a bonfire.

When he stopped he took his time gulping down air, throat blazing with invisible fire. He couldn't stop his giggles, the feeling of euphoria that rushed over him like a hyper song; Connie enduring the same, their giddiness flowing to the remains of the land—down below, sprinkling the billowing leaves of their victory.

The ground became their beds, lounging them in verdant cushion as the sky opened up to glowing display. Stars. A cascade of twinkling fires that Steven tried to frame in his hands. Bringing them to his eyes, he examined each one with starry wonderment, Connie whispering to him now and then when he asked a question.

"What about that one?" He directed a finger to the corner of the night sky.

"That’s the Big Dipper."

"And that one?"

"Mmm," she fumbled, clicking her tongue. "Aquarius? It's hard to pinpoint from all the stars—they're so bright you'd think I'm mistaking Orion for something else."

"I don't think that's a problem." He commented, fingers lifting towards the speckles, connecting each one with imaginary twine. "It just means we'll have to work harder to solve the puzzle, and as long as we got each other it shouldn't be that hard."

She released a cool wisp of air from her lips. "You're so sappy, but the sap was definitely needed."

A frown. "What's wrong about being sappy?"

"There's nothing wrong with it," she told him, sincerity leaking through. "You're the sappiest guy I've ever met and...I can't help but adore how loving you are, it just fits you so well.”

"Who, me? I'm just being my wittle self," he cooed, her laugh accompanying it.

"See?" Her hand returned to his, brushed by the moonlit turf. He felt light, the world appearing to slow down with each breath he took, heart bumping like a wave-carried boat. "Who wouldn't love to have someone like you? If I never arrived at Beach City on the day we met, then we wouldn’t even be here. Just enjoying the view."

Joy rose from his chest. "Enjoying you."

"What was that?"

"That, that was a—!" He sputtered.

She burst into laughter, cheeks dark under the light. "Oh my lord!"

"I'm sorry! It just slipped!"

"Steven!"

"I meant that I enjoy your company," his voice was desperate, cracking like a misaligned symphony. He sat up in a panic. "Not like in a weird way, I'm sorry!"

"Steven, Steven!" He went taut; she didn't look mad or grossed out or judgemental. Instead, she was hugging him, keeping him still with each moment that passed—arms returning the gesture in a tight embrace. "It's okay. It's really sweet of you!"

Steven groaned. "But it sounded so weird, I didn't mean to gross you out."

"You didn't." Connie kept him close—fondness pulling on her lips, chuckle carried off into the cool Delmarva breeze. "You're just being yourself."

Steven considered it. Even through his panic he never restrained his smile and the rush of closeness that came with it, he kept put, taking in her proximity. "Did we call a tow truck yet?"

"Oh." They pulled away. Connie rummaged for her phone. "Nope, we still have to do that."

Steven placed himself back onto the ground as she started a conversation on the phone—shadows painting her in a soothing color, moon cradling her figure. Slow and winding, gifting them of a connection that pushed him down to rest. The natural, the dark and hushed, all of his surroundings gestured to a lullaby, massaging him of burdened weight. His eyes drew closed. Exhales lingering, languid in the crisp weather.

A click of the phone resounded. Then a rustle, settling down close to him with a small grunt. Crickets chirped their song, hoots traveling overhead. "I gave them our location. We'll just have to stay put."

"That should be no problem." He stretched out. "We're the masters of it, after all."

A snort. "You’re right."

Listening to the shuffle of grass, Steven added on. "We should plan another one after this."

"Another call?"

"No, I meant the thing we're doing right now."

“The dateventure?” She asked.

“Mhm.”

Hesitancy. "Uhm, I guess."

"Well," Steven flinched at the noticeable lilt in his voice. "If you don't want to do another one, then that's okay."

"No, no," she blurted. "I want to. I'm just thinking about something."

"What are you thinking about?" His gaze still prepped up at the sky, coursing by them in a crawl.

"Just a few questions...about us." The sigh from her left him restless. What about them? "We've always been close, really close. You've noticed it, right?"

A few moments came to mind: movie nights on the weekends, blanket nests sheltering them in watchful rest; boardwalk strides with cotton candy and snow cone mouths, carrying a blue-striped bear won over from a ring toss stand; close talks at sleepovers, imagining the hereafter, breathing in the possibilities they have—which was what they're doing right now as they speak.

"I've noticed."

"It always made me wonder." She started fumbling with her fingers. "Why haven't we started dating sooner?"

"I," a quick exhale, "didn't think it would be such a big deal."

Quiet. The question raised high above their heads, Steven squirming in his place. That was a good question, why didn't he ask her earlier? He never gave it much thought, for the idea seemed unnecessary—they were good enough as is. Nothing stopped their cuddling, nothing stopped their intimate affection when consequences encumbered them above, nothing stopped them when they had their first kiss. The only thing they’re presumably missing was a label. They didn’t need it. They would still be close even without the titles of 'boyfriend' and 'girlfriend'. Or 'lovers'. Or even 'jam buds'. The question left was:

"Does it matter?"

"It does to me," she spoke under her breath. "We've always been close; I'm just curious about why it took so long on my end. Was I antsy? Afraid?"

"For me, I guess I was just waiting for you." The words stunned him. It was the only answer he had, the rest of him trying to pinpoint a more exact reason. "I felt comfortable with what I had, just being there by your side, so the only change between us is if you made it official...if you get what I mean."

"I get it." The flight in her reflection—pulling out from the dip in tone prior—brought him to relief. "Then I'm glad I asked." An idyllic hum. "Clarifications are everything, well, communication in general; I didn't want to worry about going on an assumption, or just toeing around it like last time."

"You're right," he said, pulling overgrown bits of grass under him. "I should've told you when you first kissed me."

The noise she made piqued of chagrin. "Oh man, you still remember that?"

Steven smiled overhead, hoping the stars humored them. Out of all the personal disasters they’ve done together, he didn’t mind that their affection lead to their foreheads banging together—it was his favorite memory. "In clear detail."

Connie groaned, hands wringing through her hair. "That was so embarrassing."

"I don't see it that way. I'm thankful for it." He snickered.

"Steven, noooo."

"It made me realize you were flirting with me before that!" Her hand pressed against his mouth, leaving him to struggle and teeter under her in muffled hysterics.

"Steven Quartz Universe, you need to stop talking right now!" She was in hysterics too, Steven trying his best to wrestle his way out. "Cease your lies!"

"Never!" He wheezed, face red as an apple. "You can't deny the fact that you were!"

"Shut your mouth!"

The struggle continued. He didn't know how long it went—seconds, minutes—but the next thing he could perceive was the taste of mint. Bubblegum. Pine needle. Face cradled in her hands. He couldn't conjure a word when she parted from him, mouths agape, keeping them bathed in lunar splendor on their glorious hillock.

A moment of breath. Then another. Each one keeping their eyes on the other, lips turned in candy-sweet beams.

"You didn't use Wikihow this time?"

She smirked down at him; a pepper-light kiss pressed to his forehead. "Steven, I'm already beginning to regret this."

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” He reassured her, happiness emanating from his smile.

Contentment. A solid form of trust he wanted to cherish for hours and hours on end. If all he could do was just ask for the day to become never-ending, tend to a cycle of rendezvous and silver lining with her by his side, then things would’ve been perfect, but he knew the future waited for them—to grow up, to adore each other without the pressure of failure, to seek comfort in times of rock bottom.

There was no going back, huh? The label was there, they just had to use it. Nothing would change even if he uttered it. "I love you, Connie."

But there was satisfaction in hearing it. "I love you too, Steven."

Then came the rotund buzz—vibrating between them with a shocking velocity—both of them clambering back to their regular positions as Connie, who dug her fingers into her pockets, conjured her phone to the edge of her ear. "Hello, who's this?"

Pinpricks of noise sputtered from the receiving end. She bit her lower lip, nodding sparingly throughout. "Okay, okay. Pearl, we're fine, but please bring the emergency medkit just in case."

"Wait, Pearl is on the other end?"

Connie nodded before returning to the call. "Garnet's right. We went through an accident but we have our location if you want to come pick us up."

“Can I say hi to them, Connie?” He tried to look over her shoulder.

"Yeah, sure!" She then rebounded back to the caller. "Steven wants to talk to you guys; yeah, we’re on a hill, and I have a moderate battery life so you could call us when you get here." She handed him the phone.

“Steven, are you there?” The high-strung inquiry left him sweating.

“Yes, it’s me, I’m fine!”

“Oh thank goodness, Garnet told us you two were in trouble a few minutes ago and we were worried sick.” Something gushed against the speaker, clipping of the audio for a second. “Amethyst is bringing us there as we speak so it won’t take long!”

"That’s great." He peered over to Connie. "We got out of the car with no bruises, and we're just on a hill waiting for help."

Pearl’s tone sharpened. “I know you two will keep together but stay where you are, make a smoke signal if you have to.” Staying put was enough as is. “We’re on our way!”

“All right, I love you guys!”

"I love you too, Steven, keep in touch. Use your powers if you find a scratch, we don't want an infection."

"Will do."

With that, the cell went dark. Steven placed it back to Connie’s palms as they reclined, allowing themselves to wade in the sea of green; the wind picking up now, billowing through their locks, as they busied themselves with the heavenly sights. Pondering on the situation at hand.

“Hey, Connie.”

“Yeah?”

“Why didn’t we just ask the gems to lift the car out instead of calling a towing service?”

“Oh.” Silence. “Oh my God, you’re right.”

He shot her a sheepish look. “Well, at least I got to spend time with you, I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”

Even with his limited view, he knew that she was flushed, Steven grunting at the half-hearted punch to his shoulder. “You’re showing your sap again, dork.”

"At a time like this, sap ain't that bad, especially if it means I get to do a sneak attack!"

Falling on her like a tilted stone, she shrieked as they resumed back into a fit of wrestling, hearts strung to the sound of their mirth. There’s nothing wrong with a little sap, he thought, for the night was still young. And the future was theirs.

[peterparkrr]

The Santa Clauses

AO3 Link! Happy Holidays :)

Tony can glean a lot of information from the way Pepper walks into a room. Actually, he can tell a lot about anyone from the way they enter a room, he’s perceptive like that. But, he has years of studying Pepper under his belt, so she’s definitely his area of expertise.

The way that the door to the garage swings open—fast, yet controlled, she doesn’t let it slam into the wall, but it’s a near thing—means that Tony did something Not Good. Not 'slowly dying of palladium poisoning without telling anyone' bad and definitely not 'wielding all six infinity stones in a field full of super-humans' bad, but still, Not Good. Or it could be that someone close to Tony did something Not Good. Either way, it means that he has a mistake to fix.

“Tony,” she starts.

“Pepper,” he replies. “I want you to remember that the holidays are right around the corner, so in the spirit of forgiveness—”

“Oh, hush. You don’t even know what happened.”

That’s good. That means that it wasn’t Tony who made the fatal error.

Pepper leans against one of the tables, arms crossed. “You know I love Nebula and she is welcome here anytime.”

Tony feels his eyebrows raise automatically. Nebula is the offender. That’s a new one. She and Pepper get along just as well as he had speculated that they would. They have a shared love for the practical that Tony’s not sure that he will ever understand.

“What did Ms. Smurfette do?”

Pepper sighs. “She didn’t do anything on purpose.”

Tony peeks out the window of the garage. From what he can see, the house still seems to be intact.

“She was playing outside with Morgan.”

Tony swivels to look out the window on the other side of the garage. Morgan’s toys are scattered about the yard as usual, no sign of extra destruction. Also, no sign of Morgan. Tony’s heart races for a moment, but Pepper wouldn’t be this calm if something like that had happened.

“Morgan insisted on wearing one of her Christmas sweaters today—the one with the sleigh and the reindeer.”

Tony remembers. He’d thought it was a little early for that sort of thing. It’s only the sixth after all. But, they’re trying to foster Morgan’s self-expression.

“Nebula asked her about it. So she gave her an overview on Christmas.”

“Wasn’t Nebula here a few years ago at Christmas?”

“Yes, when Morgan was still a baby,” Pepper says. “Which is why Nebula knows that Santa and his reindeer are just characters.”

Tony’s starting to understand the problem. “And she told Morgan as much.”

“Yes, she did.”

It’s sad. Tony thought Morgan would have at least a few more magical Christmases, but she was always going to figure it out—sooner rather than later. She’s too smart.

“Well, this was bound to happen at some point.”

“Tony, she’s six.”

“My old man told me to quit believing when—I must have been four! Maybe younger.”

“Because that’s the example we’re trying to follow as parents,” Pepper mutters.

Tony laughs, but quickly sobers when he remembers the aftermath of that particular conversation with his dad. He’d been crushed. Even Jarvis couldn’t coax him out of his room the next day.

“Is she upset?”

“It didn’t seem like it. She just went back to playing.”

Tony breathes out a sigh of relief. “We’re in the clear then. No waterworks. That’s impressive.”

Pepper’s head snaps up. “We are not in the clear! Our daughter doesn’t believe in Santa! Christmas is in less than a month!”

“Honey, we can still have a wonderful Christ—”

“This is how it all starts.” Pepper’s head falls into her hands. “First, we lose Santa. Then, there will be no more family dinners because she’s out with friends. Then she’ll graduate and move out. It’s the beginning of the end.”

It seems that they’re spiraling on this previously calm December afternoon. Tony wants Morgan to stay as she is, all wide-eyed wonder for the world, just as much as Pepper does. He’s just not sure if the Santa-thing means the end of all of that. “Don’t you think—”

Pepper points a finger at him. “Fix this, Tony.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you!”

She’s gone before he can say anything else. It’s Tony’s turn to rest his head in his hands.

Tony raps his knuckles on Morgan’s door. “Maguna, anybody home?”

There’s a quick succession of footsteps from inside, then the rustling of sheets.

“No,” she calls, followed by barely stifled laughter.

“Oh, I see.” Tony pushes the door open and steps inside, surveying the child-shaped lump under the comforter. “Then I guess it’s the perfect time to finally take all of her toys to sell. I’ve been trying for years. Look at me now, FRI, it’s finally happening.”

“Stealing from a six-year-old, boss, very impressive.”

“FRIDAY, stop him,” Morgan whispers. “Override code alpha-romeo--”

It’s only the first two letters of one of his override codes, but it's enough to convince him that Morgan has the whole thing. It’s not the first time she’s gotten one, and it won’t be the last either. She’s going to be a nightmare to keep up with as a teenager, Tony can feel it.

“Woah, there.” Tony places two hands on the comforter and yanks it back with a bit of flourish. “When did you discover that one, little miss?”

She covers her face with her hands and shakes her head.

Tony decides to let it go. He’s here for a more urgent reason—a ‘Pepper will never forgive me if I don’t fix this’ reason.

He sits at the foot of the bed. Morgan clambers the rest of the way out from under the covers to sit next to him.

“Mom said that Nebula played with you today. That was nice of her.”

Morgan nods. “She let me take off part of her hand.”

“She—“ Tony trails off, shaking his head. He’s learned not to question what Morgan and earth’s mightiest heroes get up to. Morgan has all of them wrapped around her tiny finger.

“I put it back just right,” she adds.

“Good job.” Tony brushes her hair back so that it’s not flopping over her right eye. “Just be nice, okay? Nebula might not want to be treated like a project all the time.”

“Okay.”

“Did you and her do anything else today? Or—talk about anything else?”

Morgan’s face scrunches up in thought, before smoothing out again. “I told her about Christmas. She said Santa isn’t real.”

Tony knew that, but it still feels like a punch in the gut to hear the words out of Morgan’s mouth. He steels himself for the rest of the conversation.

“Do you believe that?” He keeps his tone as neutral as possible.

“Why would Nebbie lie?”

He hadn’t been prepared for that one. All he can do is hum in response.

“Did she lie?”

Tony purses his lips and looks to the side. He can’t outright lie to Morgan’s face. It’s too much of a betrayal. He should create some sort of telepathic link so he can tell FRIDAY to sound an alarm just from his thoughts. It would help him get out of so many sticky situations.

“It’s a little complicated, Mo.” Tony cringes even as he says it. It’s not his finest save.

She seems to accept it though, nodding sagely. “I’ll figure it out.”

Tony calls Peter.

“Is this a trick question, Mr. Stark? Because when May asks me that, I’m supposed to say yes, because otherwise she gets all sad and then I get sad, too, because—”

Sometimes talking to Peter is like listening to a hamster run around and around on its squeaky wheel. Then the hamster gets off, does a lap around the cage, and hops back on to run in the other direction. It’s exhausting, and grates on his nerves at times, but somehow it’s mostly just endearing.

“I just want your answer, the truth, please.”

There’s a long silence.

“No. I do not believe in Santa.” He whispers it, like it’s some shameful secret. “Unfortunately.”

“Perfect, I need your help.”

Peter doesn’t cry when Tony explains the situation, but it’s a near thing.

“I’m sorry,” he says, as he tries to collect himself. “I thought that we had some Christmas-themed villain to take down. Not this. She’s so young. How did this happen?”

Tony waves his hand in the air. “Long story, Nebula’s fault.”

“This is a disaster,” Peter mumbles. He seems almost as distraught as the time they thought Morgan had been kidnapped. Tony should lock him and Pepper in a room and let them commiserate until all the fretting is out of their systems. “What’s our plan?”

Peter is the plan. “I thought maybe you could talk about Santa like he’s, you know, real. She worships the ground you walk on.”

“Oh man.” Peter grimaces. “I don’t know. That’s a lot of pressure.”

Tony stares at him in disbelief. “Kid, you fought a titan—on an alien planet.”

“There’s so much more at stake here!”

Tony rolls his eyes and then places his hands on Peter’s shoulders. “You’ve got this. I trust you.”

Something in Peter’s face shifts and hardens. He nods once, sharp and final, before spinning toward the door and walking out of the room.

“Oh, you’re going for it, now, right now?”

Peter doesn’t stop, so Tony follows him into the family room where Morgan is criss-cross on the floor surrounded by magnets. She’s moving one around above them so that they spin to align with the poles.

“Hey, Morgan,” Peter says.

She drops the the magnet in her hand and leaps to her feet, sending a bunch of others scattering around the room. Tony tries to catalogue where they go so he can find them later. At least three slide under the couch. One is between the chair and the end table.

Morgan runs at Peter and he lifts her into the air with an ease that Tony can’t help but envy. He tosses her once, and ducks a little so that she falls longer than she thought she would. She squeals as he catches her again.

“I didn’t know you were coming over!” She beams at Peter. Her grin has gained a few gaps in the last month. Pepper has a point about time flying.

“Well, here I am!” Peter tosses Morgan onto the couch and plops down next to her. Tony wanders into the kitchen so that he can still hear without obviously spying.

“Are you excited for Christmas? Have you written your letter to Santa?”

Tony winces. Peter’s going straight in. Subtlety has never been one of his finer skills.

Morgan doesn’t answer right away and Tony has to resist the strong urge to go back and see what’s happening.

“Yeah,” she says slowly. “Have you?”

“Of course! I’m so excited to see what he’s going to bring me.”

“Oh.” Morgan sounds confused.

“I always hear reindeer’s footsteps on my roof on Christmas Eve! Have you ever heard them?”

“Um, I don’t know, maybe?"

It goes on like that for a while, Peter finding more and more creative ways to keep the conversation centered around Santa. Tony puts a stop to it when Peter claims that he saw Father Christmas himself at a beach one summer.

He makes some excuse about May calling and practically drags Peter out of the room.

“I think I really sold it,” Peter says. “Did you hear me?”

“Oh yeah, aces,” Tony deadpans. “Stick with the superhero gig, alright kid?”

After Peter leaves, Morgan follows Tony into the garage. His plan was to work on some of her presents, but he can’t do that with her watching, so he ends up opening old suit plans instead. He spins them around idly, hoping Morgan will get bored and leave.

“Peter believes in Santa, like a lot,” she finally says.

Tony stops and turns to her. Maybe the plan had worked after all.

“You should tell Nebbie not to tell him. I think it would make him really sad.”

Tony nearly smacks his head into the concrete wall. Pepper’s going to kill him.

Tony takes Morgan to lunch—a nice little diner where they won’t be bothered by any reporters.

They get almost matching cheeseburgers, Morgan’s sans pickles. Tony waits until she’s finished about half of hers before launching into his prepared speech.

“Remember when I told you that Santa was complicated?”

Morgan’s nose wrinkles and she places her burger down. “I’ve been trying to figure it out. It should just be a yes or no answer.”

“A lot of things that seem straight-forward aren’t,” Tony replies. “You’ll learn that as you grow up.”

She sits up straighter. “I’m almost seven.”

“That you are, which is why I’m going to explain it a little bit, sound good?”

She nods. Tony takes a deep breath. Belatedly, he realizes that he should have discussed the route he had decided to take with Pepper beforehand. There’s no going back now, with her eyes fixed on him, watching expectantly.

“I like to think of Santa as a metaphor.”

“Those are the ones without ‘like’ or ‘as’.”

Tony smiles. “Exactly. Santa represents being kind and giving.”

Morgan tears her napkin in half. Tony feels like he can see her thinking, trying to predict exactly where he’s going with this.

“We all get a chance to be a Santa, when we’re ready.”

Morgan abandons the strips of paper and meets Tony’s eyes. “How do you know when you’re ready?”

“Well,” Tony says. “As an experienced Santa, I can make that decision.”

Her chin juts out, a little. It’s the same face Pepper makes when she’s preparing to lay out her best argument. Tony feels his lips tug upward.

“You’re a little young, kiddo, but I think you might be ready.”

She wiggles a little in her chair, excitement radiating out of her. “What does a Santa have to do?”

“Well, there are a few rules.” Morgan leans forward. “The first is that you can’t talk to anyone who isn’t a Santa about it.”

“Is mom a Santa?”

“Of course she is.”

Morgan looks relieved. “Good, I can’t keep secrets from mom. She always knows.”

Pepper will love to hear that one. Tony can’t wait to tell her.

“As a first-year Santa, your job is to choose one person to give a gift to. You have to find out what they want without asking them and the most important part is that you can’t tell them it was you.”

“Easy,” Morgan says.

“Do you know who you’re going to pick?”

Morgan nods around a mouthful of burger.

Morgan chooses Peter, of course. She’s an overachiever, so her gift is two-part.

The first part, Tony helps her with. They code a slew of upgrades into a new holiday suit, from the more practical things — the heater needs to be warmer on his hands, sometimes they feel like ice after he patrols, dad — to the festive — would jingle bells give him away to the bad guys? When it’s finished, it’s green where the original was blue, and the spider symbol has a Santa hat. There are also some Christmas fairy lights sewn in for if he’s in a particularly jolly mood.

The second part, Morgan does all by herself. She types up a note, to Peter, from Santa. She doesn’t let Tony read it.

She delivers the suit before Christmas so that Peter can wear it during the holiday season. Tony drops her off at May’s apartment building and waits in the car so she can have a quick escape. She sprints out of the building, gesturing wildly for him to start the car.

When footage of Spidey in Rockefeller Center, with the Christmas lights shining bright, appears on the news, Morgan jumps up and down and plays it on loop.

“I think Peter likes it, mom, dad, look he’s wearing it by the big Christmas tree!”

She pumps a fist in the air as Peter swings in front of the camera once again. He throws up a peace sign and Morgan mirrors it, bouncing on her toes.

Pepper squeezes Tony’s arm. “You did good. Thank you.”

“I don’t know why you’re surprised.”

“Two words,” she says. “Giant bunny.”

“Oh, come on!”

On Christmas morning, Morgan tears through her presents with the same vigor that she brings to most things. The pattern she takes to go through them is systematic, yet the action of opening each is reckless, crumpled up balls of paper flying in all directions.

There are toys and books and gadgets. Most notable is the present that Pepper and Tony poured most of their time into — a robot that Pepper had sketched out and Tony had built. The pieces are disassembled, in a box. There’s a tool kit so that Morgan can put it together herself, and a paint set so that she can decorate it.

She runs over after she opens that one, wrapping her arms around both of them, as far as they will reach.

“You guys are the best Santas,” she whispers. She squeezes one final time and bounds back to the box, prying it open and dumping its contents on the floor.

Pepper leans her head on Tony’s shoulder and sniffles. Tony’s definitely not crying.

May and Peter are supposed to get to the cabin at 3:00. Tony knows that this means to expect them around 3:30. Morgan starts standing by the window at 2:45.

Tony, Pepper, and even FRIDAY try to coax her back to her toys, but she refuses to move.

“Peter will love the letter,” Tony tells her.

“You haven’t read it!”

“You wouldn’t let me, Mo.”

She sighs. “I should throw it away.”

“No, you worked hard on it. He’ll love it.”

The telltale crunch of tire on gravel nears the house. Morgan gasps and presses her face against the window. Then she runs around Tony to open the front door.

“Santa left a present under our tree for you, Peter,” Morgan blurts as soon as he steps inside.

“Really? Should I get it now?”

Morgan pales. “Um, if you want to.”

Peter heads for the tree and Morgan darts to Pepper’s side, latching onto her arm.

The letter is in a holiday-themed envelope, red with a snowflake border. Morgan had asked Pepper to write Peter’s name in cursive on the front. He picks it up and tears the adhesive, careful not to rip the envelope or the contents.

It takes him a few seconds to read it and then he blinks a couple of times and clears his throat. His eyes dart over to Morgan, then Tony, then finally up to the ceiling.

“Thanks Santa,” he says. “That means a lot.”

Morgan grins. She buries her face into Pepper’s side to hide it.

She goes back to working on her robot on the floor after that. May and Pepper sit on the couch by her, half-watching, half-chatting. Tony and Peter drift into the kitchen.

“What did it say?”

Peter clears his throat again and then passes the letter into Tony’s hands. “You can read it.”

Tony hesitates, but curiosity wins over and he opens the folded paper.

Dear Peter,

Congratulations on being on the nice list. It’s great to finally write to you. You’re one of my favorite children, and that’s saying a lot because I know all the children in the whole world. I heard that you’re a big fan of Santa. I’m honored that Spider-Man thinks so highly of me. Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me!

This year, I wanted to write you a letter because you’re one of the most deserving people in the world to hear from Santa Claus. A lot of people were sad when you were gone. People told stories about Spider-Man, but Morgan’s dad told stories about Peter Parker. He missed Peter a lot. He’s a little old to write letters to me, but I’m sure if he did, he would have asked for you back. Morgan thought the same thing, so she added you to her Christmas lists for her dad. That wish finally came true last year.

Morgan originally wanted you back just to make her dad happy, but she got the best big brother out of it too! Keep up the good work! Santa is very proud of you!

Merry Christmas,

Santa

P.S. I hope to see you again at the beach this summer.

Tony folds the paper back in half and slides it across the counter to Peter. He picks it up and places it back in the envelope.

“She did,” Tony says. “She always put 'Peter' on her lists — once she was old enough to write them. Cried like a baby the first time I saw it.

Peter’s finger is running over the outside of the envelope, tracing the lines where the paper meets. Tony feels like he should say more, but he doesn’t know what. Even if he did, anything longer than a few words would probably come out choked and end in tears. This Christmas isn’t for crying. All of the darkest days are over.

“Merry Christmas, Tony,” Peter says.

Tony leans a little to the side to bump Peter’s shoulder. “Merry Christmas, kid.”

[purrincess-chat]

The Girl Under the Mask CH10 (Final)

It is finished! The final chapter of my Ladrien Summer story that I started over a year ago. I hope you all have enjoyed this fluffy ride. Now that this is complete, what would you all like to see me work on next? Let me know if there is a WIP of mine that you’ve been dying to see updated, and I’ll try to work on it!

Read on AO3

Chapter 10

“Close your eyes.”

Ladybug eyed Adrien skeptically for a moment, observing his giddy smile and purposeful hands hidden behind his back. A small grin formed on her own lips, and she bit it back before doing as he’d asked. She felt him fasten something around her neck, heart skipping a beat as she felt a weight against her chest.

“Okay, open.” She blinked, finding herself looking into his affectionate eyes before she flicked her gaze down to the sparkling diamond necklace he’d placed around her neck.

“Adrien!” She gasped, eyes widening in shock. “I can’t accept this.”

“Why not?” His eyebrows furrowed.

“It’s too much. We only just started dating,” She said, closing her fist around it and glancing up into his eyes.

“But I want you to have it. I’m your boyfriend, and I can’t proclaim my love for you out in the open because we have to stay secret, so I want to do something for you.” He pouted, and Ladybug felt some of her nerves ebb.

“It’s beautiful, Adrien, and I love it. I’m just not used to receiving nice things like this,” She said, tracing her thumb over it. “Thank you, but don’t feel like you have to buy me such lavish gifts. I’m happy just spending time with you.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing a soft his to his jaw and leaning her head on his shoulder.

“Well, if I can’t buy you gifts then I will just have to tell you how much I love you a million times a day,” He said, pulling her in close. “Starting now. I love you, Ladybug.”

She giggled as he peppered her skin with soft kisses, murmuring tender expressions of affection with each one. He held her close, pressing his forehead to hers with a smile, green eyes locked on her with such unspoken adoration that she felt her cheeks warm.

“Tell me more about you,” He requested pleadingly. “I don’t care what it is; I just want to know everything.”

“My favorite color is pink,” She said, and he leaned his head back a little in thought.

“Pink, huh?” He remarked with a nod.

“Yep. I also like polka dots,” She added as they approached the couch, and Adrien pulled her down into his arms.

“A true Ladybug then.” He smirked, and she chuckled at the coincidence.

“I also love Jagged Stone,” She listed, resting her head on his shoulder.

“And Laura Nightingale apparently,” He added, pinching her side.

“Mmhm.” She nodded, biting her lip. “My favorite flavor of ice cream is strawberry.”

“Because it’s pink?”

“And delicious.” He laughed at that.

“I’m gonna buy you a big pink house one day, lovebug. We can live there together, you and me,” He said, lacing his fingers through hers.

“That sounds nice,” She sighed contently. “We can get a dog or a cat or maybe a hamster.”

“I do like hamsters.” He nodded, shifting to see her face, and she beamed up at him.

“A hamster then,” She said against his lips, eyelids drooping, but Adrien didn’t close the gap this time.

“Will you tell me who you are one day?” He asked, and her eyes fluttered open once more and found his gaze.

She considered it a moment with pursed lips. “Someday. After Hawkmoth is defeated, and it’s safe.”

“I hope you and Chat Noir beat him soon.”

“Yeah,” She whispered, averting her gaze. “Me too.”

***

Marinette leaned against her fist the following morning adorned with a dreamy smile as she swirled a spoon in her yogurt. She toyed with the necklace, turning the gem over in her fingers with a giggle. Her first gift from her boyfriend Adrien. She could get used to that. Adrien, her boyfriend, well, Ladybug’s boyfriend. In secret. But Marinette was Ladybug, so by default he was her boyfriend.

If only Hawkmoth weren’t around, she could tell him who she really was, but until they fixed Paris’s pest problem, they would have to keep meeting in secret. It was kind of exciting in a way, but it was going to be hard to keep her cool around Adrien at school. Not that she’d ever been good at it before, so he likely wouldn’t notice the difference now that she thought about it. She would just have to keep her necklace hidden. If Adrien saw it, it would be a dead giveaway, and if anyone else saw it, well, she didn’t exactly have an explanation of where she got it.

“Adrien sure knows how to pick jewelry. The diamond is so shiny,” Tikki remarked while Marinette brushed her hair.

“I know. I’m never gonna take it off,” Marinette sighed, touching it tenderly. “Can you believe he’s really in love with me?”

“All of that time together finally paid off, but how do you intend to approach him now as Marinette? All of your friends work so hard to help you get closer to him, but you can’t flirt with him as Marinette when he’s dating Ladybug,” Tikki pointed out, and Marinette smirked.

“Not gonna be a problem. Marinette always fails when it comes to Adrien, so they’ll never know the difference if I flub on purpose,” She said confidently, setting her brush down and tucking the necklace into her shirt. “Now let’s go. We’re gonna be late.”

More so than usual, Marinette couldn’t help but steal glances at Adrien throughout the day. He seemed to be in high spirits, and she felt a giddy satisfaction knowing it was because of her. She found herself touching the necklace through her shirt frequently throughout the day, and she could only imagine what things would be like when he learned the truth about her. When he began directing those adoring eyes and soft smiles at Marinette, whispering delicate expressions of love in her ears while they snuggled close together. Then in a few short years they’d be married. She wondered how Adrien would like to decorate their house.

Lost in her daydream, she didn’t notice the cart filled with basketballs until her foot caught it, and she fell forward, launching her school bag across the locker room. She sat up with a wince, rubbing her knee and hissing as pain spread under her touch. That was going to be an ugly bruise. Pink flashed in the corner of her eye, and she jumped a little, glancing up to see Adrien standing over her with her school bag.

“You okay?” He asked worriedly, offering a hand to help her up.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just wasn’t paying attention, that’s all,” She said, allowing him to pull her to her feet.

“I’ve been a bit distracted today myself,” He admitted, returning her bag, though his eyes fixated on her chest, and she glanced down to see her necklace sparkling out in the open. With a gasp, she quickly tucked it back into her shirt, daring to glance up at him. She shrank under his suspicious gaze, eyes narrowing as he pursed his lips, and she stepped to the side, attempting to pass him to get to her locker around the corner.

“Thanks for helping me up. I guess I’ll see you later,” She said stiffly, shoulders tense, and his eyes followed her every move.

“Nice necklace,” He said, stopping her in her tracks, and she turned over her shoulder to see a thinly veiled smirk on his face.

Oh no.

“Oh, uh, thanks! I got it from-” She fished for a believable excuse, but Adrien simply cocked a brow.

“From?”

“-my da-grandmo-father.” She winced, clearing her throat. “Yep. My grandpa sent it to me. It was my grandmother’s, and he found it while he was going through some stuff.”

“Your grandfather must have loved her a lot. That’s a high-quality cut, looks like a custom job. One-of-a-kind almost,” He remarked, stepping toward her, and she shrank a little.

“Uh, yeah. It was a wedding present, I think he said,” She fibbed, and he crossed his arms over his chest and nodded, pursing his lips.

“You should show it off more. I’m sure that’s what your da-grandmo-father would want,” He said, that playful glint she’d come to know all too well in his eye. “After all, he probably gave it to you because he loves you a lot.”

“Well, I don’t want it to get messed up or broken,” She said, placing her hand over it, and Adrien eyed her for a moment.

“Or seen?” He leaned down into her face, and she opened her mouth to make a retort, but his smirk made her stop short.

“I-” He cut her off with a kiss, cupping her cheek in his hand and kissing her dizzy. He’d never kissed Ladybug like that, and when he pulled away, she was breathless and flushed.

“Found you, lovebug,” He said with a breathy laugh. “You were right under my nose this whole time, and I found you.”

“Adrien-” He kissed her again, softer this time, tracing her jaw with his thumb tenderly.

“It’s you,” He said, pressing his forehead to hers. “It’s you.”

“Yes, okay, but you can’t tell anyone who I really am!” She shushed, pressing a hand over his lips. “I’m serious, Adrien. No one must know who I am.”

“I’d never do anything to betray you, Bugaboo,” He said with a wink, and she instinctively rolled her eyes.

“Don’t call me that,” She said with a groan. “And I’m not kidding. Even you knowing is dangerous. No one else can find out.”

“I won’t tell a soul, m’lady.” He vowed, pressing a hand over his heart and holding up three fingers. “Cat’s honor.”

She eyed him for a long moment, eyes narrowing, her jaw opening and closing as it sank in.

“No.” She shook her head.

“Yep.” He nodded, placing his hands on his hips proudly.

“No.” She turned abruptly and paced to her locker. “Don’t tell me that.”

“It’s only fair,” He said, shrugging his shoulders. “What am I just not gonna tell you that I’m Chat Noi-”

She clamped a hand over his mouth again, face screwed into a conflicted scowl.

“If I’m dreaming, now would be a great time to wake up.” She said, glancing up at the ceiling, but no matter how much she willed it, she couldn’t fly away, so she determined that she must be awake. “So you’ve been…him this whole time?”

“Mmhmm.” He nodded against her hand, and she threw her head back with a groan. “Are you disappointed?”

She snapped her gaze back on him, his face falling slightly, so she stepped forward and cupped his face in her hands.

“No, I’m just worried about everything now. This is dangerous, and if we aren’t careful then it’s possible that we won’t be the ones that win the battle with Hawkmoth,” She said, curling her shoulders, and Adrien placed his hand over hers, leaning into her touch.

“If there’s anyone who can pull this off, it’s us. I mean, look at everything we’ve done together. We’re an unstoppable team. Hawkmoth isn’t gonna know what hit him,” He said, lifting her chin. “We’re the cat and bug team, remember?”

A small smile curled on her lips. “You mean the bug and cat team?”

“Either way, I believe in us.” He gave her one of those adoring looks, and she felt her nerves melting.

“Okay,” She said finally. “I trust you.”

“Still love me?” He cocked a brow and kissed her hand.

“I suppose.” She rolled her eyes, flashing him one of her playful grins. “But only if you stop calling me Bugaboo.”

“I can’t help it! You’re so cute,” He defended, scooping her up and spinning her around. “Can I at least call you lovebug?”

“I guess that’s acceptable, but try to keep the bug nicknames to a minimal. You may as well tattoo ‘I’m Ladybug’ on my forehead,” She laughed, as he set her down and touched his nose to hers.

“So I take it ‘my radiant bug queen’ is out of the question?”

“Definitely.” She nodded.

“Can I call you princess? Purrincess?”

“No.”

“My angel sent from heaven?” He waggled his eyebrows, and she let out a breathy laugh.

“You’re such a dork. Why was I ever scared to talk to you?” She giggled, squishing his lips between her fingers before stretching up to kiss them. “All these months spent crushing on you from afar, but you’ve been right next to me all along. Bad puns in all.”

“Hey, first of all, my puns are purrfect. Second of all, you had a crush on me?” He asked, cooing playfully, until she pushed his nose away.

“Don’t even get me started, ‘m’lady,’” She shot back, striking her best Chat pose.

“I am ashamed of nothing,” He bowed theatrically. “I’m only ashamed that I didn’t figure out it was you sooner. I mean, it makes a lot of sense.”

“You think?” She asked, tugging on a pigtail.

“Well, yeah. I mean you’re resourceful, smart, always helping people, you’re a good leader…If I had to pick a Ladybug, I would have picked you,” He said, and she felt her cheeks flush. “That’s why when I figured it out I had no issue falling for you in an instant. You really are Ladybug with or without the mask.”

“I suppose given all I’ve seen of you in our time together that you being Chat Noir makes a lot more sense than I thought it would,” She said, shifting her weight a little. “You’re my best friend, both as Adrien and Chat Noir, and I’m really glad that you’re the same person.”

Adrien stepped closer, pulling her back into his arms and kissing her hair. They remained that way for several minutes, breathing each other in, and processing everything that had happened. That the person in their arms was a partner, a friend, and a lover. Somehow Marinette wasn’t as shocked as she should have been, but Adrien and Chat were two people she had cared about deeply prior to this, so maybe it wasn’t all that strange for her to just accept it.

“You know what this means, right?” He said after a few minutes, pulling back with one of his cheeky grins. “We can finally tell people we’re dating!”

“Yeah, I suppose we can,” She chuckled as he took her hands.

“I can kiss you in public and hold your hands. Put my arm around you and give you my jacket when you’re cold.” He bounced a little with excitement.

“You can hold me in your arms and take me out on real dates,” She said, resting her head on his chest.

“I’m really glad that it’s you,” He murmured in her ear. “I’m glad that the girl I love turned out to be someone so amazing under the mask.”

“And I’m glad that the boy I love turned out to be my best friend,” She said, stretching up to kiss him. They remained like that for several moments, wrapped in each other’s arms and lost in their own private paradise until a throat cleared at the end of the row, and they jumped apart to see their best friends standing with equally bewildered expressions.

“Are we interrupting something?” Alya asked, pressing her lips together to hide her ‘You go girl’ smirk.

“Oh, uh, sorry, we were just…” Adrien fumbled, cheeks glowing red.

“I finally told Adrien how I feel, and he feels the same way, so we’re together now,” Marinette said, taking his hand as Alya perked up.

“No way! Scoop!” Her friend cheered, clapping her hands together excitedly.

“I didn’t know you were into Marinette,” Nino said in surprise. “I mean, I’m happy for you, but you never told me.”

“Well, I didn’t think that she’d ever look at me. She’s way out of my league,” Adrien said, rubbing the back of his neck and flashing her a grin.

“Oh sure, Mr. Front-of-the-cover model.” Nino rolled his eyes.

“This is awesome! We can totally double date now!” Alya beamed. “In fact, we were just about to go get some coffee, wanna come?”

“Yeah, we’ll be right there,” Marinette said, waving as their friends headed for the door, and Adrien turned back to her and offered a hand.

“Shall we, m’lady?” He winked, and she took his hand with a smile.

“Let’s go, kitty.”

[oxnardsreblogs]

The Banana Hammock, Part 3

Haha oh! I finally read through this third story submission! owo It’s much naughtier and takes a turn, you did a good job! More Fox in and out of undies is always nice~

Oxnard took a deep breath and said, “This hero Fox defended Lylat countless times against enemies near and far! And for that we must thank him. And we must show our *support*…” Pepper and Peppy pulled Fox’s legs a bit apart and then pushed his hip forward. After a moment, the two turned Fox around. Before Fox could ask why this was done, Oxnard continued, “… and that we are all *behind* him…” the two made Fox squat and show his bottom to the audience. “…and that is why, ladies and gentlemen…” Fox’s head was now bent downwards, so it was between his legs, while his bottom was up high. “…you should be taking more photos!” Fox was turned back around. Oxnard continued, “I think we can do a trivia contest. It’s just Mr. McCloud, and it’ll be nice and easy…” “You can’t have that stage by yourself, Star Fox!” cried a loud, bellowing voice. Wolf O'Donnell, wearing only his trademark eyepatch and black boxer briefs, jumped onto the stage, arms crossed, scowling. The hamster noticed that the wolf was a bit bigger down there than Fox, and perhaps a bit more gifted in his shorts than Peppy. “I-I didn’t invite you!” said the general. “And aren’t you a wanted criminal?” “I invited myself, thank you very much,” Wolf said. “And the cops got too much to do!” Pepper looked at his phone and realized that the statute of limitations on Star Wolf just ran out! “Wolf, can you please don’t drag our rivalry into this?” Fox asked. “I’m trying to have fun tonight.” “Request denied, pup!” Fox sighed and said, “Okay. Well, we’re gonna have to do things the hard way! I suppose it’s going to be a contest.” “I can answer trivia questions better than you, pup! Just you wait!” Leon Powalski, perched at another table, eyed the confrontation, eyes darting back and forth. He was in a lacey black thong leaving little to the imagination. Sounding a bit excited, he said, “You see that, Panther? He’ll outmauever the competition and tear it into pieces with his super, duper sharp claws!” Panther Caruso, who had been busy hickeying some bunny rabbit lady in a thong but with no bra, sighed and said, “I’ve told you already you seem to be torn over this shredder and shreddee stuff. It’s getting old…” Panther’s pink bikini showed that he was about as gifted as Peppy, and this, along with his suave Latin aura, was why the bunny lady was all over him. “I-I sure am torn about it! Eehehehehe!” “Okay. Let me be direct here. I know you’re gay for Wolf, so you might as well come out to him after this is over.” “Why wait?” said the chameleon, now clearly slobbering. Oxnard said, “Okay! Uhm, a change of plans, I see! Well, then.” After a deep breath, he said, “The challenge is: You outlast your opponent in a trivia contest! There are three rounds! The first person to get the question wins the round! Two out of three means you win! If you do that, you get… ten thousand dollars!” The dollar signs appeared in Fox’s eyes. “You lose, and you have to lose the undies for the rest of the night! Now… challenge accepted?” Fox and Wolf looked at each other. The lupine suddenly shook wolf’s hands, and the lupine in turn slapped his back. Their eyes matched one another’s. “Okay, then! Let’s go!” cried the hamster. Oxnard cried, “Round One!"  He got out of a slip of paper: "Okay then! What was Super Mario Bros. 2 renamed to?” “Super Mario Bros. 2? What’s that?” cried Fox. A few bursts of laughter came from the audience. “Uhm… Super Mario Brothers?” Now the laughter was even stronger. Fox’s friends in the back all looked disappointed, and Falco slapped his face. Slippy was all panicking, and Krystal clasped her hands. Oxnard said, “You lost the question, Mr. McCloud! And you… what’s your name?” “Wolf O'Donnell.” “What’s your answer?” “Super Mario Bros. USA!” he cried. “I know about those old human video games from Earth!” “One round for Wolf O'Donnell!” cried Oxnard. Leon was rah-rahing while Panther sighed and continued to ogle the girl he met. “Now the loser of each round has to make themselves look like a fool!” The hamster got out a banana and peeled it for Fox. The vulpine was about to bite it when the hamster said, “No, Mr. McCloud! You lick and suck the banana first!” The catcalls and jeers made Fox grimace. How dare they make him look like a fool! “Name the video game that was the biggest symbol of the crash of 1983, and one only on an Atari console? Mr. O'Donnell first!” “Atari Pacman!” he blurted. “Hic!” Seems like he jumped the gun. “Wrong,” said the hamster. “Pacman’s on many consoles!” “What!?” “You lose, Mr. O'Donnell! Now, Mr. McCloud…” Fox stammered a bit: But there was some magazine he read once that there was some economic disaster on Earth (in fact it was minor, but…), and the Cornerian magazine noted that the game had a certain space theme, based on a movie… which Fox had happened to watch. “E. T.!” he cried. Oxnard’s mouth formed an “O-shape”. “Well, would you look at that! Mr. McCloud wins!” cried Oxnard. Fox’s friends cheered, while Leon was silent. Wolf this time had to suck on the banana. He grimaced and his eyes were red with fury. Oxnard cried, “Round Three! What was the name of the game that inspired Resident Evil! For this round, if you get the question wrong, you lose, period! If both of you lose, you get no money and both of you have to lose the undies! Whoever answers first goes first!” Wolf blurted, “Resident Evil Zero?” Oxnard frowned and looked at Wolf. “Not a good guess at all!” the hamster cried. Wolf growled and stomped on the floor. Then the hamster turned to Fox. “Mr. McCloud…” He didn’t know. The vulpine was frozen still, afraid of making a mistake. Oxxy held out his hand. Three, two, one, and he would lose. Three… “I believe in you, Fox!” cried Slippy, now unafraid to show his true body, warts and all. Two… “You can do it!” cried Falco, holding out a jug of beer. Katt got hers out too and cried, “Do it! Do it!” One… “Go get ‘em!” cried Krystal as she took her bra and panties off. The aphrodisiac jolted some energy into Fox. Something came to mind… something he really wanted. “A Sweet Home!” Fox cried. Oxnard blinked, and his jaw went open, like a cat enthralled with catnip. “Oh my! It’s indeed Sweet Home. I guess you win!” cried Oxnard. “I don’t know how you knew that!” “Face it tiger, you’ve won the jackpot!” cried a brown wolf, clearly intoxicated from beer, in black panties but no bra. She was well-endowed. There were plenty of empty bottles at her table, and she drank them all. “Fuxie, please don’t be so loud!” cried an orange yoshi, seated next to her, who was wearing green briefs. His bulge was a bit on the small side, like Fox’s. She laughed heartily before saying, “Nishi, he’d been jerking off with his honey in public. I saw every fiery moment of it and he’s all fine with what’s happening! I ain’t lowerin’ my volume.” “It’s rude to talk about him like that!” said the agitated dinosaur. “Don’t be coy. I saw you were watchin’ 'em too, and you were all touchin’ yourself as well, Buster Brown.” Nishi lowered his eyes and blushed, before withdrawing and sipping his wine. Wolf grimaced as the hamster had his hands out. After giving away his boxer-briefs, he stormed off in a huff, only to find a slender, eager chameleon embracing him. Leon planted a kiss… and Wolf kissed back with force. The two made out, as the crowd cheered, for a minute. The chameleon then withdrew and got out his long lizard tongue. Wolf gasped as he saw where the tongue was going. The space pirate groaned and panted as he was being pleasured, and the crescendo of cheers from the audience grew and grew. Before he knew it, the pleasure stopped, and he had a bottle of jelly placed in his palm. Leon, who had given him the bottle, was on his fours, his lace off, his butt out prominently. The cheers grew louder and louder. First Wolf, sensing something in his teammmate, smacked Leon’s behind with his hand, once, then twice, causing a welt, and Leon moaned in joy, getting his heartfelt desire. Then Wolf got the jelly and… “Oh god, Krys!” cried Fox. There she was, her ample breasts presented, her hair radiant and beautiful, her lips full and wide, her teeth bright, her eyes lusting after him. First she planted a kiss and began ogling him. The hurried breathing intensified as he began to caress her breasts. The bold Fox then got out his tongue and began to lick them. She shoved his face into her chest as he kept licking. It was like a lollipop for a crazy straight guy, and the moaning and panting egged him on. After a moment she shoved him off, and he landed on his butt. She quickly tore off his briefs and saw that he was quite excited. The swelling and the redness invited her tongue, and she licked and sucked. Fox gasped and groaned for a brief moment, but it ended before he could burst. She then went on her fours, and her eyes told him: Come on in! And so both Wolf and Fox were having at it with their sweethearts, in front of a crowd, and they all were cool with it! “This is too much even for me!” cried the hamster, who was covering his eyes! “Oh, my virgin eyes!” cried General Pepper. “This has got to be rated XXX!” cried the hamster. “Or R-18!” cried the general. “Well he’s doin’ a barrel roll on her at least!” said Peppy. “That’s not funny,” said Pepper. And when it ended, each couple was panting and moaning. Krystal gave a smooch to her honey, and for a moment it was just the two of them, nobody else. The crowd was just irrelevant background noise. “Did we-” Fox asked. “Hmm?” Krystal said. “Conceive?” “Oh,” she said. She looked down and her face looked a bit weathered for a moment. “Maybe we did this time?” “Let’s hope!” The two did a pinky swear, not caring that they were nude and covered in their own fluids. “Buddy, I think it’s time to go home,” Falco said. Now Peppy, Slippy, Falco, and Katt were standing around the two. Fox looked down and saw that Krystal had snapped his underwear in half. —- Fuxie cried, “Take three!” Fox had gotten the money, of course, which helped pay off some debts, but didn’t make him especially wealthy. However he also found a job offer. In between missions, he agreed to be an underwear model for Fuxie’s company, which just happened to be the brand he wore that night. Without the benefit of alcohol, Fox was a lot less courageous, and it was common for him to blush and grimace. But since he already had sex in front of other people in Oxnard’s club, he wasn’t really in a position to reject any of Fuxie’s wild proposals. To be fair, she just had him be in standard-issue white briefs, rather than thongs or anything crazy, but his face was in all the advertising and it was a little hard to get used to people recognizing him on the subway or getting unsolicited phone numbers from random strangers, even though he made it clear he had a girlfriend already. All the poses he did and all the fruit he had to show himself with were so embarrassing! “You gotta spread the legs a little! Show your butt! There you go!” she cried. Behind her was Oxnard, big smile, buck teeth out, all happy that he’s getting to see all the good stuff. Gaydar was there too, slobbering, but Nishi was holding him back, preventing him from ruining the take. Having said that, Fox was clearly uninterested in all of the attention from strangers. He had a lady to tend to. When Fox came home (wearing clothes, of course!), he saw the opened packet of a pregnancy kit. He read the instructions carefully and realized that Krystal was in the bathroom in her bra and panties, reading a kit she had just used. She handed it to him, and he saw the symbols unmistakeably. “Fox, I’m-I’m!” - The two embraced, and they were eager to move forward into the future. They were to have a son. –END–

[droidalerts]

What is the best way to handle scam phone calls?

Me: Hello?

Scammer: Hello, is this the residence of Mr. Jones? This is Agent Smith with the IRS and we have an outstanding tax warrant for $1,250 payable immediately.

Me: One moment please while I see if he’s available...

(At this point I set the phone down and continue with my Sudoku puzzle for 10 minutes)

Scammer: ...hello?...

Me: (from a distance) One sec please...

Scammer: Ok.

(another 10 minutes of Sudoku)

Me (speaking with an old, raspy voice): Hello, is this Ronald about the eBay ad? Are you still interested in my old colostomy bags? They leak sometimes but it’ll still do the job.

Scammer: No, this is Mr. Smith from the IRS. We have an outstanding tax warrant on you for $1,250.

Me: Really? WOW! That's great! Where can I collect it?

Scammer: No sir, you owe..

Me: (Screaming in the phone) HEY MILDRED! WE'RE GETTING $125,000 FROM THE EPA!

Scammer: No sir, you owe the IRS $1,250. Now, we can arrange payment through a credit card or Pay Pal...

Me: How can we owe you $1.25? I retired 75 years ago.

Scammer: Our records show that you have an outstanding...

Me: (Screaming in the phone) HEY MILDRED! DID YOU SELL $125,000 WORTH OF YOUR GHOST PEPPER CHUTNEY AT THE FLEAMARKET?

Scammer: You don't understand Mr. Jones, YOU owe $1,250 to the IRS.

Me: What was your name again?

Scammer: It's Mr. Smith from the IRS.

Me: I thought those who work at the IRS are supposed to be addressed as Agents and not Mister?

Scammer: Ah, we are agents. But only the FBI and the CIA are addressed as agents.

Me: What about the EPA?

Scammer: They're not agents. Now getting back to this outstanding tax warrant for $1,250...

Me: If I prepay $10,000 to the IRS, will the ASPCA stop sending me ads in the mail? I get too much mail now.

Scammer: YES! ...I mean yes of course! Just give me your credit card informat...

Me: Well, I suppose you can give 10% to the puppies and little kitties.

Scammer: If I could just get...

Me: But not hamsters! I draw the line at hamsters. They look too much like my great-aunt Zelda. Have you met her?

Scammer: No, I haven’t. Now getting back to your credit card number.

Me: Oh, yeah. Sorry for taking so much of your time. Let me get my card out of my wallet from upstairs.

Scammer: That's great.

(I set the phone down and make a cup of coffee and cut an extra big slice of Death by Chocolate/chocolate cake.)

Me: (speaking with a mouthful of cake.) O-tay now. My Vissa card nub-bur iss Twon won box abe forr fivb fivb knin forr bive bive boo

Scammer: I’m sorry, we seem to have a bad connection. What were those numbers again?

Me: Damn cheap-ass phones. We never had this much trouble back when we had land-lines. I miss those so much, I get teary-eyed just thinking about the good old days. Do you remember the old rotary phones? My sister had her own Princess phone. In PINK even. Mom and Dad always loved her more than me. But I got even with them with the 20-pounds of pickled herring. That’ll show-’em not to mess with the 5th child. You know what I mean, don’t you? We 5th children have to keep together.

Scammer: *Click*

EDIT: A lot of people are saying why we don’t just block the scammers' number and be done with it. The problem with that is the phone numbers are “Spoofed”. That means the number that appears on my telephone readout isn’t the real number that called me. I see local numbers to me (area codes and prefixes), but the real number could just as easily originate from overseas for all I know. So if I were to block the number that called me, I’m merely blocking the number of some poor guy through no fault of his doing.

EDIT part 2: The point in doing this is to waste as much of the scammer's time as possible. The more I tag him along on the phone, means less time he has to scam someone else who might fall for it. I feel like I’m performing a public service for my fellow man/woman/puppies/kitties and all the great-aunt Zeldas out there.

Your welcome!

Donations for your thanks and eternal love for little old me can be sent to your local ASPCA.

And yes, you can include the hamsters.

How To Block Scam Numbers? Read Here

[the-teeny-bees-hams]

Happy New Year from everyone's favourite one-eyed rodent!! May 2024 be good to us all

[dandelion-san]

Love Story

@kyogre-blue​ I tried man, I really did

 --

“Marry me.”

Tsuna blinked blearily at Mukuro before chancing a glance at the bright numbers on the electronic clock by his bed. He squinted, but he squinted so hard that he ended up just closing his eyes and was just about to drift off to sleep again when his bed jostled.

Mukuro’s face was terrifyingly close to his, his expression manic and smile too wide.

“Well?” he said impatiently. “Will you join me in holy matrimony? Sawada Tsunayoshi?”

“…It’s three in the morning,” Tsuna weakly said. He thought longingly of his interrupted sleep, precious time already whittled away by the amount of paperwork and meetings that filled his days (and nights). His sleep-addled brain was flashing ‘ERROR’ behind his eyelids.

What was Mukuro up to this time? Why was he in his room? Where had Mukuro disappeared to the past week? …Ah, who was he kidding, Mukuro does what Mukuro wants. As… long as nobody died, right.

Oh, whatever. Tsuna’s eyes slipped shut again. “You haven’t even taken me on a date yet,” he mumbled, a light snore escaping from him.

“Hm,” he heard Mukuro say thoughtfully, but Tsuna had already decided to forget about this entire encounter, and fell back into peaceful oblivion.

 --

This later proved to be a mistake.

 --

 SCENARIO 1

The force of Mukuro kabedon’ing him against the wall was enough to break the plaster. Tsuna gulped, discreetly looking for an exit.

“I-is there something you need?” he asked, shuddering at the creepy gleam in Mukuro’s one eye. (Damnit, where was Gokudera when he needed him the most?!)

Mukuro leaned in close, lips brushing against his ear. “Tell me, Sawada,” he breathed. “Did I seduce you?”

“Um,” Tsuna said. “Is that a rhetorical question? Are you practicing for something?” He laughed nervously.

Mukuro pulled away, frowning. “Hm,” he said in a tone that sounded awfully familiar for some reason. Tsuna gulped again, trying his best not to look at the large dent next to his head.

“Are you…” Tsuna’s voice broke and he coughed. “Are you trying to seduce me? I mean, should I be seduced?” His right hand slipped into his pocket where he kept his pepper spray.

(Flames or no flames, pepper spray was incredibly handy for weirdos like Mukuro.)

Tsuna was not moved by Mukuro’s petulant expression no matter how cute it was and sprayed him, before darting down the hall and into his office. The echoes of Mukuro’s pained howls dogged his steps.

 SCENARIO 2

This time, Mukuro had several roses clenched between his teeth, but whatever strange Romeo-esque thing he was going for was ruined by his swollen red eyes and in how the roses were unnaturally black.

Both of Mukuro’s arms were caging him against the wall and so Tsuna eyed the ceiling and sighed miserably.

The victorious expression on Mukuro didn’t hold up when he tried to say something and realized he couldn’t speak because of the flowers occupying his mouth. He stood there frozen, indecisive on what to do next and Tsuna took pity.

“Mukuro,” he said slowly. “Is someone bullying you? Did you get roped into a bet with Hibari again?”

“Mmphaekkk,” Mukuro replied, offended. “Fihaaa? Mearrrrph!”

“Uh-huh,” Tsuna said, not understanding a single word. “Okay.”

He paused to make sure Mukuro didn’t choke on the flowers when he kicked him in the balls. Then he ran to his office and put up every possible barrier he could think of. It failed when Mukuro walked in three hours later with a box of chocolates.

Tsuna grudgingly took the bribe before letting Yamamoto cheerfully defenestrate the guy.

“Are you sure it’s not a bet?” he asked him as the maids swept up the broken shards of glass.

Yamamoto shook his head. “Nah, something like that would definitely have been in the grapevine.”

Maybe this was revenge for something. Had he done anything to make Mukuro mad recently? He frowned to himself, recalling anything from the past few days and drawing a blank.

Hm.

 SCENARIO 10

Mukuro was sitting in his chair. There was a gift box in his hand, decent-sized and with a bright red ribbon ominously wrapped around it. (Seriously, how did he keep getting past his security?)

Tsuna took a deep breath as he walked into his office. Reborn told him he couldn’t run away from his problems anymore, right? Time to stop running. He eyed the box warily before trailing his gaze up to the lazy smirk on Mukuro’s face.

“What is that?” he finally asked.

“A present for you, my love,” Mukuro said with a disturbingly bright tone. Tsuna blinked. On second thought, the box seemed to be dripping red. It was staining Mukuro’s trousers. And the carpet. The maids were going to kill him.

“I see,” he said faintly. “And it wouldn’t be the heart of Don Rossi, would it?” He laughed then, trying to play it off as a joke, because wow how evilly cliché would that be, but it choked when Mukuro’s smirk turned fond.

“He won’t be causing anymore troubles for you, my dear.”

Hiieeeee, Tsuna’s mind screeched.

(“It was a joke!” Mukuro insisted in vain. “A metaphor!”)

 SCENARIO 45

“The moon is beautiful tonight, isn’t it?” Mukuro gaze was soulful, face inching closer and closer - 

“No it isn’t!” Tsuna shouted, backing away. “It’s a new moon tonight!”

Too bad, Mukuro had set up such a nice dinner and everything.

SCENARIO ???

There was a lion on his bed.

Wait – no, there was a lion HERD in his BED.

“Mukuro, why?!” Tsuna scrabbled into his delighted Guardian’s arms and possessive arms wrapped around him, lifting him up high into the air.

“Are you happy?” he said. “Does this make your heart pound? I got your favorite animal just for you!”

Tsuna whimpered, covering his face. His favorite animal was a hamster, gentle and unassuming. His favorite in general was Natsu who was not a real lion, seriously what the hell Mukuro.

Fortunately, Mukuro seemed to sense that something was wrong, and he sighed, walking back out of the room with Tsuna in his arms. “I don’t get it,” he complained. “Shouldn’t you be wooed by now?”

Tsuna uncovered his face and stared at him in dawning horror.

“Wooed...?” he echoed, turning white and then red with rage. “Mukuro… did you do something.” It wasn’t even really a question but a statement.  

“Kufufu,” said his Guardian, arms tense around him. “Well that’s kind of a funny story, and I’m sure you’ll appreciate it once you marry me.”

 --

The amount of debt Mukuro had managed to accumulate within a single week was staggering and sent Tsuna straight to his hidden liquor cabinet.

Mid-life crises for the mafia were no joke, especially if one spent most of their teenage life locked up in a watery prison.

“For the love of god,” Tsuna sobbed into Mukuro’s lap, letting callused fingers run soothingly through his hair. “You’re not even twenty-five yet. Is this why you didn’t contact us for the entire week? What were you thinking?! Just because you’re family doesn’t mean you get to hoist your debt off on us, you bastard!”

“They were quite insistent about it,” Mukuro said flippantly above him. At Tsuna’s hysterical rise in tone, he assured, “I didn’t kill any of them, honestly. I stuck a few in my hell illusions, but nothing some years in therapy can’t fix.”

Predictably, this did not assure Tsuna a single bit.

 --

The next morning, every employee and the rest of Tsuna’s Guardians received the shock of their lives when Mukuro went down on one knee during breakfast and presented a hung-over Tsuna with a gorgeous golden diamond ring.

“It’s completely conflict-free,” Mukuro said in the silence of the room. “Also, I did all your paperwork last night.”

“You motherfUCK-“ Gokudera started.

“Yeah sure, why not,” Tsuna interrupted.

“-Tenth?!”

“Really!” Mukuro lit up, a genuine smile tugging at his lips.

“Uh-huh.” Tsuna took a long gulp of his coffee. “Yes, I’ll marry you.” He surveyed the rest of the room as Mukuro put the ring on his finger and inwardly snorted. Hibari’s tea was dripping onto his suit.

(He was not so amused later when he discovered Mukuro had put himself further into debt by buying the engagement ring.)

 --

(EPILOGUE (aka Bridezilla!Mukuro)

Mukuro let Nana help pick the dress, because why not. Best not to make the mother-in-law angry right? It didn’t stop him from arguing with her on the merits of mermaid versus A-line versus trumpet styles though. And the kinds of cuts to go with it too!  

Chrome is his best woman of course, but drama ensued the monthweekday before the actual date when Mukuro threw a fit over her buying the wrong kind of card stock and in an off-set blue that clashed with his hair, or her choosing an outfit that outshone his. “It has to be perfect!” he howled. “It’s my big day! All of these mafia scum are going to be there and the Vindice!” 

It took both Ken and Chikusa to hold her down before she could eviscerate him, but then Hibari tried to take over the job for her. 

The wedding itself went smoothly to Tsuna’s great relief. At least Mukuro had fun with it.)

The end.

[jae-bummer]

Could Be Fun

Request: 16 and S.Coups!!

16) A party with your bias group ends with a game of seven minutes in heaven

Member: Seventeen’s S.Coups x Y/N

Type: Fluff

You clutched to the red solo cup Hoshi had pressed into your palm nearly two hours ago. You stirred the clear liquid within by flicking your wrist, watching the bubbles swirl with your every movement. You hated the way it smelled, but you sipped on it nonchalantly, trying to keep your mouth busy so you wouldn’t have to speak. 

Or do anything else with it. 

You heard a collective cheer sound from the living area as two more names were drawn from the jar Mingyu was holding. He and Jun had spent the better part of the evening scrawling guests’ names onto tiny slips of paper and depositing them into the jar, prepping for what they described to be “the most epic” game of seven minutes in heaven anyone had ever seen. 

You tilted your head, leaning up on your tiptoes to see Jeonghan being shoved toward the small closet where the boys’ kept their coats. A gaggle of girls floated behind him dragging a girl with a mint green pixie cut. Both were pushed into the closet where the door was promptly closed. Hoshi, the master of ceremonies, leaned against the door and signaled the time beginning for this round. 

You turned back around and leaned against the kitchen counter, taking a deep breath before you drank another swig from your cup. You looked up to the ceiling and closed your eyes, trying to remember exactly why you had agreed to show up to this party. Mingyu had blown up your phone, occasionally peppered in with a passive aggressive text from Wonwoo every now and again, but it was the call from Seventeen’s leader that really sold you.

You had known Seungcheol almost as soon as you had moved to Korea. You had attended some of the same classes in university and grew close as you had similar senses of humor and interests. It was only natural that you would become close with his members as well since they were constant pillars in his life. He was a devoted and busy leader to his group so you had grown apart at various points of your friendship, but you were always close with one member or another during the time in between. You were the group’s unofficial noona (as the spot of eomma was already taken.) 

When Seungcheol’s name had appeared on your phone’s lock screen, he had insisted that the party wouldn’t be a true party unless you had plans to attend. Somehow with his simple request, he had struck a chord within you that you weren’t even aware was there. 

And here you were.

You opened your eyes again just as you felt a small nudge against your arm. You looked down to see Dino breezing past you, a bag of chips in hand. 

“Sorry,” he hummed, his eyes wide. “Vernon and I needed snacks.” 

“Where have you guys been?” you questioned, taking another sip from your cup. “I’ve been here all day and haven’t noticed you at all.” 

“Playing monopoly,” Dino sighed, chewing on his lip. “With Joshua hyung...”

“He doesn’t approve of this, does he?” you chuckled, waving around at the party pulsing around you. 

“It’s not the party that bothers him,” he continued. “It’s the closet kissing game.”

You tried to stifle your laughter at Dino’s name for Seven Minutes in Heaven. “Ah, I see.”

“He wanted Seungkwan to play with us,” he hummed. “But you know how he is when the members pull out the karaoke machine.”

You looked over to the dining room where Jun had set up the karaoke station. Come to think of it, every time you had glanced in that direction, Seungkwan had been holding the mic and singing his heart out. Various party goers had come and gone, but one thing remained the same. Diva Boo was not giving up his spotlight. 

You turned back around as Dino gave a small wave and tiptoed back down the hallway, disappearing into one of the bedrooms where you heard a distinct click of a lock. You shook your head and laughed, pulling yourself up to slide onto the counter top. Maybe if you knocked, the boys could leave you a spot for the next round of Monopoly. 

You kicked your feet as you looked around the kitchen, eying up the snack selection. If it’s one thing the Seventeen boys knew how to do, it was to provide an impressive snack display. 

“Want a carrot?” Jihoon muttered as he stepped in front of you, picking at a vegetable plate. He chewed idly on a piece of broccoli before spinning around. “Maybe some celery?”

“You know me, I go to parties for the vegetable selection,” you grinned. “Having fun, Woozi?”

“Hardly,” he grumbled. “If you didn’t hear, I was the first one to get shoved in that closet. Ignoring the fact that it smells like a hamster’s cage, the girl I was paired with wouldn’t detach from my neck.”

He adjusted his turtleneck to show a large, dark, purple hickey glowing on his fairly pale skin. “My manager is going to kill me. And it’s not like it even felt good. I know she was nervous, but I would have been content with playing rock, paper, scissors for seven minutes to be honest. No one asked her to morph into an octopus and attack me.”

“Who was it?” you asked, wide eyed. 

“She didn’t even tell me her name,” Woozi sighed. “And she disappeared quickly thereafter. Probably to avoid assault charges.”

You laughed and leaned forward, reaching around Woozi to grab a carrot. “The night could always become more exciting.”

“Seven minutes is up!” Hoshi shouted, pounding on the door. He tugged it open to reveal a smirking Jeonghan and a blushing female. “How’d it go?”

“I don’t kiss and tell,” Jeonghan said smoothly as he sauntered out of the closet. The girl with the mint hair groaned as she shuffled off into the opposite direction, her hands covering her face. 

“Yah, what a showoff,” Woozi clucked from beside you, shaking his head. He scrambled to sit on the countertop as well and began gnawing on a piece of celery. “Have you been chosen yet?”

“I didn’t let Mingyu put my name in,” you nodded. “He knows I would kill him.”

“Really? I could have sworn I saw-” Woozi began as Mingyu began to shout for everyone to quiet down. 

“Alright people,” MIngyu called out. “Let’s get one last couple in before we call it a night....we have...oh! Another Seventeen member! Please step up...our fearless leader, Choi Seungcheol!” 

A deep groan erupted from the corner of the room as Seungcheol was pulled to his feet and thrust in the direction of the closet Jeonghan had just emerged from. 

“And...Y/N!” 

You gasped as your head snapped around. Your pupils shook as you attempted to focus on Mingyu and give him the best death glare you could manage. 

“I thought you said you weren’t going to put my name in that stupid jar!” you argued just as Jun turned the corner and grasped your arm. 

“Mingyu may have said that, but I did not,” Jun chuckled. “Next time, get it on paper.”

“Yeah, and then you’d argue that I didn’t get it notarized,” you grumbled. You looked over to Coups, his cheeks bright as cherries. You didn’t want to make it seem as if you were displeased at the idea of being locked into the closet with him because that wasn’t the case. You were displeased by the idea of being locked in a closet in general, especially as a form of entertainment for the partygoers around you. Seungcheol’s comfort shouldn’t have to be compromised to make the party atmosphere more interesting. 

But you couldn’t get that argument out as Jun tugged you along and shoved you into the dark and damp closet. 

Coups was thrown in after you, the wood door slamming with a fair amount of strength. He stumbled forward, knocking you into the thick coats behind you. You were both breathing heavily, a mix of nerves and adrenaline, as you stood chest to chest. You were very aware of his body heat and heart pounding just a few inches from yours. 

“Am I standing on top of shoes?” you whispered. 

“Hold on,” Coups sighed. You could hear shuffling noises as he fumbled around in the darkness. Finally you heard the click of him tugging on the pull string to the lamp. “Yes, those are shoes.”

“You had to confirm?” you chuckled. “Don’t you live here?”

“Not in the closet,” he muttered, looking around with a wince. 

Your eyes traced across Seungcheol’s jaw slowly, across his cheekbones and down his nose. Your breathing grew more shallow as you continued to look at him. He really was handsome. It was amazing how when forced into situations like these, you started subconsciously seeing people differently. 

You chewed on your lip as you continued to look at him, curious if he saw you as a sister or as a friend...or if there was anything more. He kept his eyes averted, busy counting the coats behind you. 

“Are you having fun?” you asked after a few moments of silence.

“Right now or in general?” he chuckled, a warm smile on his face. His eyes finally lowered, meeting yours for the first time. 

“We hear an awful lot of talking in there!” Mingyu shouted, pounding his fist on the opposite side of the door. 

“Aigoo, won’t you be quiet,” Coups shouted back, giving a half hearted knock on your side. He turned back to you and shook his head. “I’m sorry about them. I knew you wanted to keep your name out of this.”

“And you did too,” you whispered. “I heard you pull Jun aside.”

“Mingyu told me I should’ve gotten the agreement in writing,” Coups clucked. “I can’t wait to get that beanstalk in the practice room tomorrow. He’s going to dance until his knee caps fall off.”

“That’s an interesting body part to fall off,” you giggled. “I surely thought his feet would go first.” 

“He’s got weak knees,” Seungcheol muttered. “You should try getting a piggyback ride from him sometime. Falls right over.” 

You chuckled, leaning back into the coats. Your foot slipped as you moved, your ankle bending around one of the boots you were precariously teetering on. Bouncing from the coats behind you and attempting to regain your footing, you fell forward, placing your hands on Seungcheol’s chest to steady yourself. 

“Are you alright?” he whispered, patting down a stray hair now at his eye level. You nodded as you pushed from him, but he kept you held close. “We only have a few more minutes in here...um...we should probably you know...at least mess up our hair or something? Make it look like something happened?” 

“Why play into it?” you hummed, your face only inches from his. “You’ve never been one to give into pressure.”

“Well...it’s kind of fun,” he nodded. “Throw away your inhibitions and kiss someone because the universe happened to match up your names randomly.”

“I’d hardly call Mingyu the universe,” you chuckled with a wink. 

Aigoo,” he groaned, rolling his eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“So what you’re saying is...it would be fun if we kissed...because you believe fate made MIngyu pick our names out?” you asked, lifting your brows. 

“When you say it like that...” Coups grumbled, looking down to his feet. You instinctively placed your fingers on his jaw, lifting up his face to force him to look at you again. 

“It could be fun,” you whispered carefully with a small nod. Seungcheol’s eyes snapped forward to stare into yours, a slow smile pulling at the corner of his lips. 

“You think?” he hummed, his voice barely louder than a breath. 

“I think,” you nodded. Seungcheol’s lips hovered before yours for a moment before he placed them cautiously on yours. His movements were tender and sweet, filled with a rawness you weren’t prepared for. He reached up slowly, cupping your face in his long fingers, keeping you still. You felt your cheeks growing hot as he held you, letting his lips tell you more than he ever really had. 

“Times up!” Hoshi shouted, yanking the door open. Coups quickly dropped his hands from your face and sprung backward. 

“You two...you two were kissing...?” Mingyu trailed off, his eyes wide as he looked back and forth between you and Coups. 

“Well, seeing as how you couldn’t see through this door,” Coups whispered, looking over to you with a wink. “Sounds like gossip to me.”

You closed your eyes, trying to hide the chuckle desperately trying to escape your mouth. You opened them again to focus on Seungcheol’s lips.

“My previous ability to see aside,” MIngyu continued, furrowing his brows. “I can see perfectly fine now and I’m pretty sure Y/N’s lipstick isn’t your shade...so why is it on your lips?” 

Seungcheol’s eyes grew wide as he looked to you and touched his lips gingerly. Mingyu grinned and leaned forward, patting Coups on the shoulder. “Nice try though.”

[wherzlaura]

“Catalyst” - 22 November 2019; Charlotte

I was helping a friend move yesterday and a man in a black truck came up to the complex and started talking to one of the neighbors for a half hour or so. My hair was pulled back into a ponytail and I was walking up and down the stairs with boxes, saying, “Excuse me,” as I rounded the corner where they were standing.

His eyes were kind. Mine were tired, but not so much from the move as from being on the same hamster wheel of life where the daily grind of lather, rinse, repeat demands the thankless routine continue for however long it does.

I’m too young to feel so taken for granted, too old to be lamenting my loneliness in writing anywhere. I’m blessed and thankful, but I feel like I’m in a black hole and wonder how it feels to have fun and feel wanted anymore.

To the light eyed man with salt and pepper hair yesterday- thank you for allowing me to close my eyes and imagine how it might feel to be kissed passionately. The story that played out in my mind gave me some reprieve from the blinding boredom that’s overtaken my current situation. Maybe our paths will cross again someday.

[the-teeny-bees-hams]

[the-teeny-bees-hams]

Please ignore our commentary haha

[the-teeny-bees-hams]

Littol munchies

[the-teeny-bees-hams]

Permanent ;3 face