#the blond goody two shoes colleague.......

[microscotch]

crossover episode 🧪

[sparklyaxolotlstudent]

Alternative to Ladybug.

Lila thinks Bustier is too much of a pushover and decides to frame Marinette with Mendeleiev instead. She made a huge mistake. 

(This is sort of a rewrite of my “Lila Gets Exposed” fic)

-

Lila smiled smugly. Everything was going according to her plan. That bitch Marinette would get her just desserts and Gabriel Agreste would give her Adrien in a silver plate.

Her plan was a rather simple, really. She knew Marinette was a goody-two-shoe and would get a good grade on their latest test, so she stole the answer sheet and put it in her backpack. She then placed an anonymous note on Miss Mendeleiev desk about Marinette cheating and Mendeleiev would take care of the rest. Of course her first idea was to use Miss Bustier, but she was such a pushover that Marinette probably would be able to convince her of her innocence, or worse, she wouldn’t and her punishment would be just to apologize. Lila rolled her eyes at the thought. But with Mendeleiev? She was merciless, and once her plan got in motion, she was as good as expelled.

Just to be on the safe side, she had answered all her own answers wrong, so Marinette couldn’t accuse her of being the mastermind. And of course she also had hidden her fake fox tail miraculous necklace on Marinette’s locker, to accuse her of stealing a precious family heirloom.

Lila took a seat smugly as ever in Bustier’s class, as the class had returned to their regular classroom.

It had barely been 10 minutes of the teacher talking about something Lila was not paying attention, when someone knocked at the door. It was that pigtailed blonde girl from the other class… Aura?  

“Miss Bustier? Hello. Miss Mendeleiev asked me to come for Marinette Dupain Cheng. If you gave her your permission”

Aurore gave Miss Bustier an envelope, which Miss Bustier carefully opened and read. “Yes, of course. Marinette?” The blue haired girl stood up. “Miss Mendeleiev wants to talk to you.” Marinette started to get out of her seat. “With your things”

Marinette stopped in her tracks, shrugged and grabbed her backpack. Once she and Aurore were out of the classroom, Bustier continued with her lecture. Lila was speechless, and a bit pissed. She expected that Mendeleiev would expose Marinette as a cheater, Marinette claim for her innocence and accusing her of being a cheater, an epic battle of wits… and she got nothing. The others weren’t even talking about it, or found it odd that Marinette had been called away.

Less than 15 minutes later, another knock on the door. This time it was Miss Mendeleiev, with Marinette in front of her.

“Excuse me for all the interruptions Caline” She greeted her colleague. “But I needed to talk to Marinette about something really important.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, nothing to worry about” Miss Mendeleiev looked uncharacteristically nice. Lila expected her to be furious, and Marinette to be a sobbing mess, but instead they looked rather calm and mellow. “Can you lend me Lila for a moment?”

“Of course! Lila?”

Lila felt as if she had done the ice bucket challenge again… well, she actually hadn’t done it, but she said she did and managed to get thousands of dollars for… whatever the cause was.

“I didn’t cheat!” She said automatically, before she could process what she was saying. She immediately covered her mouth. Everyone looked at her. Miss Mendeleiev raised an eyebrow.

“That was not what I was going to discuss with you, but it is evident you know about that false accusation”

“It was not false! Marinette cheated on your test!” everyone gasped. Finally Lila was going to get the drama she deserved.

Marinette looked at her… with a bored expression. That was not what Lila was expecting.

Miss Mendeleiev crossed her arms in annoyance. She stared at Lila who was getting very nervous of the intensity of the glare.

“Demeter?” said Bustier, calling her colleague’s name in clear confusion. 

“Well, if Lila wants this to be a public matter instead of a private affair… Miss Rossi tried to frame Marinette for cheating on my latest test”

Everyone gasped in surprise, and they started to talk. A look from Miss Mendeleiev made everyone go quiet.

“That’s impossible! Lila wouldn’t do something like that!”

“Marinette got full marks on yesterday’s test, nothing out of the ordinary for her.” They could swear Miss Mendeleiev smiled for a fraction of a second, but it could never be proved. “And today I receive an anonymous note on my desk about Marinette stealing the answer sheet.”

Caline Bustier covered her mouth in a dramatic fashion and looked at Marinette, who wasn’t reacting at all at the news. “Marinette?”

“Relax, she didn’t do anything wrong. I called her because the note also said that she still had the answer sheet. And she had it in her backpack”

“See? She cheated! She’s a cheater and a thief!” yelled Lila. She shut up when Miss Mendeleiev looked at her.

“She did?” asked Caline, still not understanding. Demeter Mendeleiev had to use all her willpower to not roll her eyes.

“The sheet was just shoved in her backpack. It makes no sense for her to have that on top of her things, a day after the test. Clearly, someone just shoved it in her backpack.”

Lila was fuming. This was not supposed to happen! The sheet on Marinette’s backpack should have been enough proof that she was a cheater!

“I wasn’t going to accuse a student for such a flimsy reason, and I had no proof of who could have sent that note, so I was going to forget about the whole thing… but Miss Rossi has incriminated herself, as I hadn’t mentioned the note to anyone until right now”

“Then why you wanted to talk to her?”

“I was feeling generous and was going to give her more time for her essay”

"It couldn’t have been me! I got all the answers wrong!”

The class gasped in surprise again. It was clearly this was the work of someone else. Miss Mendeleiev was even more annoyed now.

“It was a multiple choice test Lila. Even if you answered the test randomly, pure statistics say you should have gotten some answers right. The only way you got all answers wrong is if you knew the right answers and avoided them on purpose. Right Kante?”  Mendeleiev asked Max, which caught him by surprise. The boy looked between Lila and his teacher.

“Yes… the possibilities of getting all the answers wrong in a multiple choice test by choosing randomly is practically 0”

Some of the other students glared at Max, especially Lila and Alya. Kim grabbed his smaller friend and glared back at them.

“Very well, Lila, come with me, I guess we’ll have to talk with the principal and with your mother about your punishment for cheating and trying to frame a fellow student”

“I… Marinette also has been bullying me! She stole my grandma’s necklace!”

Marinette turned around to glare at Lila, but before she could say anything, Miss Mendeleiev spoke for her.

“Really?” was everything she said, clearly not believing Lila. Miss Bustier, on the other hand, was shocked about the revelation.

“Yes. I know where it is. I’ll show you to prove I’m telling the truth”

Miss Mendeleiev pinched the bridge of her nose, more annoyed than ever. “We have already reached the conclusion that you got into her backpack Lila”

“What? No, not her backpack! She has it in her locker!”

Miss Mendeleiev stared at Lila for a few seconds. Everyone remained silent. “That’s it. You’re coming with me with the Principal”

“What? You’re not going to check her locker?”

“The locker that literally anyone can open?” she said, rolling her eyes. “I’m not stupid, Lila. If you got into her backpack, getting into her locker would be even easier. You’ll recover whatever you put in Marinette’s locker later. And unless you’re apologizing to Marinette, I don’t want to hear anything from you until your mom arrives. Grab your things, we’re going. ”

[13uswntimagines]

I Was Never Just a Rebound

Request: Lindsey helps reader get over her breakup with Christen pt.2- Sequal to I don’t want you to be a Rebound

Hey dudes, i hope you enjoy this! I know it’s kinda long, but I though a lot of the fallout stuff was necessary! To the people effected by college and the hurricane, i hope you’re doing well and that this can bring you a little bit of joy in some uncertain times. Hit me up with requests, questions or if you just wanna say Hi! I’m always open to chat. 

You knew that national team camp was going to be a challenge after the breakup, but you hadn’t anticipated the shit show that had awaited you. Vlatko had defended his choice of sticking you in the same room as Tobin as “maintaining team unity” and “fixing team cohesion”, but you were convinced that he just had a sick sense of humor. At least you had Lindsey (and her Roommate Emily by default) to back you up. 

The kiss hadn’t changed the dynamic between you and Lindsey all that much, to be honest. If anything, it made you closer. In the three months after the kiss you had still texted and FaceTimed several times a day, but now there was a different air of ease that surrounded each interaction. As though you were both more comfortable with where you stood with each other. You knew about her feelings for you, and she knew that you were still very not ready for a serious relationship. (Though you did find it slightly odd that all of your Tinder hookups had blond hair instead of brown.) 

 You stood in front of the mirror, placing the finishing touches on your outfit for tonight. Just because it was technically a Tinder one-night stand didn’t mean that the girl didn’t deserve to be wooed. You had been at camp for a total of 4 hours and you already couldn’t stand to be around them. The “happy couple” as they were called had a propensity for making out everywhere, no matter who was present. 

Each touch felt like a knife in your already torn up heart, so you had resorted to the only therapist approved coping mechanisms that you could right now, rebound sex. 

“Where are you getting all dressed up to go?” Tobin's voice broke you out of your thoughts as she wandered into the room that the two of you were supposed to be sharing, her eyebrows furrowing as she took in your button-down shirt, vest and slacks. 

“Out.” You responded shortly, not even sparing her a glance. 

“But we have practice tomorrow,” She continued. You could hear your exasperation. You had never been a goodie two shoes, but you had also never been one to blatantly break rules while at camp. You didn’t take many things seriously, but soccer was one of them. 

“Your point,” You spat. She had lost the right to have an opinion on your behavior the moment she had even entertained the idea of sleeping with Christen. 

“You don’t have to leave if you don’t want to,” She mumbled. 

“I want to” You rolled your eyes, rolling up the sleeves of your shirt. 

“I’m going to stay with Chris to make things less awkward” Tobin murmured, shifting foot to foot. 

“Do whatever you want Tobin,” You said, your voice completely void of emotion, finally turning to face her. 

“Just know that I didn’t ask Vlatko to put us together torture you alright,” She insisted tilting her head to the side and biting her lip. She hated how fucking awkward things had become between the two of you.

“No, you do that just fine all on your own,” You laughed humorlessly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Her eyes snapped up to meet your own, shock evident in her features. Sure she had messed up, but she would never intentionally hurt you. 

“It means that I get it. It means that I should have known that the entire team would be behind you on this one because I’m just the fuck up who was never good enough for her. Trust me, do I get it, and I would appreciate it if you didn’t shove it in my face every three seconds,” You rushed out, the voices of your teammates congratulating the happy couple like freshly squeezed lemon juice to you half-healed heart. It had burned and ached and brought back every insecurity that you had worked your whole career to get over. 

“We weren’t, we were just…” She stumbled over her words and you rolled your eyes. 

“Doing all of the things you couldn’t do for the months you were seeing each other behind my back,” You finished for her, sending her a smile that was too mocking to be friendly. 

“It wasn’t months,” She huffed, settling into the edge of the bed that was meant to be hers. 

“Then how long was it Tobin?” Venom leaked into your question. A dangerous calm taking over your features. You didn’t know the whole story, but you knew enough to know that it hadn’t been the first time. 

“Since the night we won the World Cup,” 

You recoiled from the admission as though you had been slapped. 

“I’m so fucking stupid,” You laughed mirthlessly, closing your eyes in an attempt to control your emotions. 

“You’re not and I’m sorry that…” She started, attempting to fix the obvious pain that she had just inflicted. 

“Don’t. Don’t fucking apologize to me when I know that you’re not sorry. Just.” Your voice was cold, colder than she had ever heard it. “Just-. Just forget it alright.” You finished, shaking your head and returning your attention to finding your shoes so you could get the fuck out of this room. 

“We can’t just pretend like it never happened” she sniffled wetly. 

“We’re not pretending anything. Well, that’s a lie. We” you gestured between the two of you “are going to pretend that we were never friends and you were going to leave me the fuck alone”

“You can’t just erase history Y/n. I know you know that better than anyone” She pleaded. She had been your best friend since you were in diapers. You had been through it all together, things like that couldn’t just disappear, could they?

“Don’t fucking talk to me about my past Tobin” You growled, advancing on the woman.  

“I’m so…” She started, holding her hands up as if to pacify you. 

“I told you to stop apologizing,” You snapped. You knew the apology was out of pity and not because they felt bad about what had happened. they just felt bad that they had been caught. You often wondered how long they would have let you believe that she was still in love with you. How would they have broken the news? 

“I don’t know what you want me to say to you. I’m not going to say I regret it because that would mean that I regret finally getting the love of my life. I know that what we did was wrong but,” she started, frustration leaking into her tone. She didn’t want to hurt you, but she would never say that wished she didn’t have Christen. 

“But what Tobin? You never meant to hurt me? How many times did you watch me kiss her knowing that you were the one that she wanted? How many times did you reassure me that she loved me while you knew that it was you who she was dreaming of? How many times did you look at that ring on her finger and laugh because you knew she was never even entertaining the idea of walking down that aisle to meet me.” your chest was heaving by the end of your rant, your cheeks red with exertion. Tobin’s mouth remained shut, and her eyes stayed trained on the floor. “That’s what I thought. You know my past and you knew exactly what you were going to do to me each time you hooked up with each other. So let’s just drop the fucking pretense that you actually give a fuck about anyone but yourselves.” You said lowly.

“I don’t know what else I’m supposed to say. I don’t know how to fix it,” She exploded, her voice thick with emotion, running her hands ran through her hair, her typically chill demeanor nowhere to be found. You felt guilty at the small shiver of satisfaction that rolled through you, as she experienced a small percentage of the pain you were feeling. But this was her bed to lie in and not yours. At least she would have Christen to keep her warm. 

“That’s the thing. You don’t say anything and you stop trying to fix it. You sack up and accept the guilt and leave me the fuck alone,” Your voice was soft but dangerous. Like the edge of a razor running on skin. Your tone nothing your best friend had ever heard before. 

“You’re my best friend,” She pleaded, the tears rolling down her cheeks, and you resisted the urge to comfort her. 

“No. I’m a fellow forward on the same team as you. That’s it. I’m your colleague who you only talk to on the pitch,” you said, your voice wavering. It was bad enough that you had lost Christen but nearly unbearable that she was the one you had lost her to. 

“Y/n…” She started, only to be cut off by a soft knock at the door, and you thanked your lucky stars. You weren’t sure if you could remain strong through the rest of that. You stumbled over to the door, and flung it open, releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding when you saw the woman on the other side. 

 “Am I interrupting something?” Lindsey asked, taking in Tobin’s red-rimmed eyes and your agitated expression. She kept her face neutral at your outfit, even though you did look incredibly stunning all dressed up, she still preferred you in your old sweats cuddled up ready to watch a movie. 

“No, I was just leaving,” You hummed, your features instantly brightening at her appearance.“I’ll text you later?. I heard Emily say something about a movie night?”You smile, waiting for her to nod before kissing her forehead and heading towards the door.

“For sure babe,” she smiled back, kissing your cheek in return. You send her a wink before exiting the room, completely missing Tobin’s eyebrows shooting up into her hairline. 

 “She hates me,” Tobin sniffed as she watched you go, and Lindsey frowned. More so at the fact that you were clearly going for a tinder hookup instead of hanging out with her than anything else. She got that you were hurt, but watching you rebuild the wall around your heart was scary. 

While the two of you were emotionally more connected than ever before, the likelihood of you stepping into a serious relationship seemed to be oceans away.

“Well, she has a pretty good reason to,” Lindsey rolled her eyes and sat down on the bed next to Tobin’s distraught form, wrapping a comforting arm around her shoulder. 

“We didn’t mean to hurt her,” Tobin whined. Why wouldn’t anyone listen to them when they said it. They loved you and hurting you was the last thing in their mind. They just didn’t know how to be honest with you about the situation. At least you didn’t run away to the UK this time. 

“Yeah, I would start by never ever saying that again,” Lindsey said lowly. She knew how much you hated when they said that. It always felt like they were diminishing the amount of devastation you felt at their betrayal. As though there was no way to avoid their happiness coming at the cost of your own. 

“What else are we supposed to say? We love each other and don’t regret that we finally got together,” Tobin grumbled exasperatedly. She didn’t know how to fix this, and you weren’t giving her any clues. 

“You just regret that you lied and destroyed your best friend in the process?” Lindsey shrugged sarcastically.  

“Exactly! Wait, That came out wrong,”  Tobin blushed at the admission and Lindsey’s raised eyebrows. 

“Just give her some time, and maybe start by keeping the PDA to yourself,” Lindsey said calmly, patting Tobin’s knee. To be honest, the preath kissing was even beginning to wear on her, so she could only imagine how you felt about it. She had asked, but you always clammed up.

“We’re not going to stop being a couple to cushion her feelings,” Tobin huffed crossings her arms like a petulant child. That wasn’t fair to them either. 

“I’m not asking you to, but it might be more courteous for the two of you not have a fucking make out session while she’s sitting at the same table,” Lindsey mumbled gently. She hated how quiet you got, how much you retreated into yourself when the two women were around. She just wished that she could relieve your pain (what she didn’t know was that she already did). 

“I’m going to go talk to Chris, just… let me know that she made it to movie night in one piece alright?” Tobin asked hesitantly, and Lindsey gave her a tiny nod. Protective instincts were hard to break, and Tobin had been your protector for a long time. Hell, you had moved in with her after your parents kicked you out when they caught you making out with your first girlfriend in 9th grade. Her mom was more nurturing to you than your own had ever been, and she was the older sibling that you never had.

Tobin made her way to the door, pausing as she opened it. “Hey Linds, take care of her, ok?” She asked softly, staring at the floor. You were guarded and hard to handle, but maybe Lindsey would be able to break through those walls. 

“I will,” Lindsey nodded solemnly, and she would. 

*****

You’d say that camp was going swimmingly. Vlatko had let you start in the friendly against England, and you scored 3 goals so you were super pumped. It also helped that the English national team was always down for some flirting. So here you were, flirting with Leah Williamson. 

Emily watched you win disdain from the bench, while Lindsey simply wore an amused expression. Leah and Jordan were in a committed relationship, and it was fun to watch you lay on the moves. 

“Are you seriously going to sit here and watch her hit on anything with legs?” Emily asked scrunching up her nose, as you swapped jerseys with Leah. 

“We’re not dating, and it’s her apparently ‘therapist approved coping mechanism’ or whatever,” Lindsey shrugged, a bemused smile on her lips, as Leah and Jordan kissed your cheeks. You had had many conversations with the woman about your ‘coping’, and it seemed that while you didn’t want Lindsey to be your rebound, you had no problems having others fill that role. Somehow you always ended up back in her bed ready to cuddle. 

“Please, you guys have basically been in a relationship since her breakup with Chris, the only difference is that she hooks up with Tinder dates instead of hooking up with you” Emily snorted, remembering the many times she had watched you leave with a tinder date you never returned with. All of the women had a very interesting resemblance to a certain midfielder you both knew rather than a green-eyed forward. 

“We’re not dating,” Lindsey rolled her eyes for the millionth time. Did she like your coping mechanism? No. But she preferred it over the self-deprecating tendencies that have plagued you the first few months after the split. You were a shell of yourself, determined to wear your mental anguish as physical marks on your skin. It had torn her apart to see you like that, and she was proud that you had picked yourself up the way you did. That you allowed her to help you help yourself. 

“No, you guys just call each other nonstop, go on adorable dates and sleep all cuddled up in the same bed,” Emily smirked at the woman. How could two people be so deep in denial? You of your feelings and Lindsey of the status of your relationship. You loved her, anyone with eyes could see that, and Emily often wondered if you were just flaunting your hookup as a bratty way to try and get Lindsey to finally make a claim. 

“She’s not ready for a relationship, and we’re not that close,” Lindsey snapped, tired of this conversation. You weren’t ready to make that commitment and she wasn’t going to force you. You were best friends, and best friends did things like cuddle and call each other and watch movies. 

“You guys have always been emotionally close,” Christen said, staring at the way you were holding Leah’s hand to your chest, smiling what her and Tobin had dubbed the fan smile because it always got people to flock towards you. Her breathing caught when you looked Lindsey’s way, waving at the woman and sending her your real smile. The smile you always saved for Christen. She sat on the bench next to the two women, finally tearing her eyes away from you.“I was always jealous of the way you two clicked from the moment you met,” She murmured, and Lindsey tensed at her presence. 

“Like you clicked with Tobin? Oh, yeah that’s right, we’re not fucking behind everyone’s back,” The blond midfielder scoffed. She had seen the destruction that Christen had left behind. Had seen how much it killed you when the team accepted Preath with open arms. Someone here had to be on your side, and she would back you up all the way. 

“Be nice Linds,” Tobin scolded as she sat on Christen’s other side, sending Lindsey a frown. She didn’t like the rift that had formed between all of you. 

“It’s alright,” Christen murmured, placing a hand on Tobin’s knee. “I know that you’ll never believe me but my greatest regret about this whole thing is that she got hurt in the process,” She finished softly, shaking her head.  She knew that you wouldn’t believe her now, but maybe she could get through to the new women who had stolen your heart. Perhaps one day you would listen to her and give her the forgiveness she was after. 

“She’s right kid. Chris and her were growing apart, and she was growing closer to you,” Tobin added carefully, remembering all of the calls where Christen had called about your distraction. About how you were always talking about team blond. She knew you loved Chris, but there was always some undeniable chemistry between you and Lindsey. 

“I just-, we made a mistake, but I’m glad that she’s got you to help her,” Christen finished softly, a shy smile making its way across her face when you again glanced towards the bench to see if Lindsey was watching you (and when you frowned when she wasn’t). She would always miss how much you craved the attention of the people you loved, almost like a puppy would. 

“We’re not in a relationship because she doesn’t want me to be her rebound from you. I’m like 90% sure she’s not over you.” Lindsey spat. 

“That’s why all her tinder hookups are all blonds and not brunettes right?” Emily smirked. It was a checkmate. The ace in the hole if you will. Lindsey could deny her feelings for you all she wanted and explain away all of the evidence, but she couldn’t explain that. She couldn’t deny that you were attracted to her when all of the girls you picked up looked like her. 

“Shut up guys,” Lindsey grumbled, refusing to concede defeat. Refusing to admit the truth. Christen watched her for a moment, running a hand through her hair. You were running, too afraid to be hurt. She knew that. It’s what you did best. 

“Just don’t let her push you away.” She whispered. It was the only piece of advice she could offer. She wanted you to find your happiness again, and fuckgirl Y/n wasn’t it. 

“I won’t.” Lindsey nodded, grabbing Christen’s hand and squeezing it. She wouldn’t let you run forever. 

*****

Little did she know just how stubborn you could be. It had been a year of almost dating. A year of dancing around the subject, only for you to run away again. Your behavior had become less erratic. You transferred from Utah to Portland, deciding that having Sonnett and Lindsey were a fair trade for having to deal with Tobin’s puppy eyes. 

You hadn’t forgiven her, not yet, but you were making your way there. At least you weren’t blatantly ignoring her anymore. 

In Lindsey’s mind, the greatest victory was that you spent less time getting into other people’s pants and more time hanging out with her. When you transferred to Portland, Lindsey had welcomed you with open arms, even allowing you to share an apartment with her (with the excuse of Mark being unable to find you one of your own). So here you were, in a club celebrating another NWSL championship. 

“You do realize that you’re going to have to be the one to make the first move right?” Emily nudged Lindsey’s shoulder as they watched you dance with a group of girls from the bar. They giggled as you casually grabbed a hand that had tried to work its way up your shirt, placed a kiss on the knuckle, and continued dancing with the girl. They couldn’t deny that you were a smooth operator. 

“What if she’s not ready?” Lindsey asked biting her lip, sighing as you grabbed another hand that was trying to get under your shirt. 

“It’s been a year,” Emily rolled her eyes. God, she had never met two more oblivious people in her entire life.

 “Yeah and she hasn’t hooked up with anyone for like 6 months,” Tobin added, taking a sip of her beer. 

“Plus the two of you have practically been living together,” Emily finished, high fiving Tobin. What it would take to get the two of you together, she didn’t know. But pointing out the obvious couldn’t hurt. 

“It’s just cause she got traded to Portland,” Lindsey shrugged off the implication. 

“She turned down Marks offer to set her up in a loft,” Tobin reminded her, distinctly remembering Marks’ complaints that you had refused his offer to get you a loft in the building she was living in. Your eyes met Lindsey’s from across the room, and you sent her a blinding smile that was reserved only for her and a wink. 

“I think it’s safe to say that she’s waiting for you to make the first move,” Emily laughed, patting Lindsey on the back in encouragement. The only thing missing from your relationship with her was the label. And from the way you shied away from labels, it was safe to say that you weren’t going to be the one asking Lindsey out. 

Lindsey let out a growl when the girl that you were dancing with yet again tried to feel your abs. You frowned at the insistent hand. How could the girl not get the hint? She marched in your direction, tapping the girl on the shoulder. 

“Mind if I cut in,” she spat, the girl taking a step back in shock. Lindsey took the opportunity to slip in front of you, pulling your hands to her waist. 

“Linds?” You asked, your eyebrows furrowing, pulling her close to you so you could talk to her over the loud music of the clip. 

“I’m in love with you, but I think you know that, and I think that you’re in love with me too,” She said firmly, her blue eyes staring into your own as she connected your foreheads. 

“I don’t want you to be a rebound,” you whispered, your breath fanning across her lips. Your cheeks flushed at the intimacy of the situation. You loved Lindsey, but another relationship scared you.

“You don’t spend hours on the phone with your rebound. You don’t move to a different city to be closer to them. You don’t share the connection That we do. I’m so much more than a rebound and you know it. You just have to take that leap,”

She finished breathlessly, and just like the night of your breakup you leaned up and placed a gentle kiss in her lips. And just like the first time, your lips fit together like they were made for each other, moving in harmony together. 

Her tongue probed your bottom lip and allowed her to deepen the kiss. Her fingers tangled in the baby hairs at the lack of your neck, and your hands wrapped around her Lower back to pull her closer to you. You reluctantly pulled away when air became an issue, keeping your eyes closed as your rested your foreheads together, bumping her nose with your own. 

“Go on a date with me?” She asked, and your eyes snapped open to meet hers. 

“Mmm, I wouldn’t like anything more,” You smiled, pecking her lips again. You knew Lindsey would be so much more than a rebound. She would be the love of your life.

[writethehousedown]

Things Are Really Cool (In Nazareth) (Ninex)- Ortega

a/n: wow hi, welcome to whatever the hell this is? this is a sort of a kind of a n19f verse/masp verse crossover set some years after the originals take place (but you don’t need to have read either to read this), borne out of the semi-autobiographical experience of my last few weeks at work trying to teach five year olds mid-pandemic. basically Nina’s a stressed primary teacher and Monet is her primary teacher girlfriend. this is fulfilling the prompt “Nice” only ten days late and also probably has one million and one typos in my haste to get it out in time for at least Christmas xo regardless, i hope u all enjoy and in the words of boyband JLS, “mewwy cwistmas”.

disclaimer: there are a couple of lines i’ve yoinked out of tv shows here- “lesbian having a panic attack” is adapted from Kimmy Schmidt and the “what are you, forty?” ones are from Always Sunny. leave me alone i’m too tired to be funny at this time of year xo

fic summary: When Nina’s headteacher asks her to pull a Nativity play out of thin air with only a week to organise it, Nina is simply too nice to say no. As a consequence, she is blindly oblivious to what her girlfriend Monet is planning, with useless lesbian results.

Nina knew she was a people pleaser. Always had been, always would be. She was simply too nice to say no to anyone. She had never been one to say no to anything.

She’d never taken the last remaining teabag for herself way back at uni; she’d always elected to leave it for Brooke or Yvie, knowing that Brooke would be grumpy all day if she didn’t have her morning cup of tea and not wanting to deal with the caffeine crash Yvie would experience if she made coffee as a substitute.

It had even started way further back in her life than her twenties. The most rebellious thing she’d ever done in high school was to pull out one of the cables of her German teacher’s computer at the back so she’d spend the whole lesson fixing it instead of teaching their class. In Primary, she was the stereotypical, insufferable goody-two-shoes: didn’t ever lose a minute of Golden Time, finished both her set tasks and the extension work that accompanied them perfectly, and was the worst kind of tell-tale.

(At the time, she thought her teachers loved that- the fact that she acted as their five-year-old corporate spy, ready to report any wrongdoings to headquarters. Contrarily, now that she was a teacher to five year olds, Nina thought that if she heard one more story about who skipped who in the line she would climb very slowly and very carefully into the staffroom microwave and blow herself into fifty million partially-heated bits.)

So when her headteacher ducked her head into her classroom on a cold, wet, rainy Wednesday after all the kids had been dispatched home, Nina panicked. Her eyes darted up to the displays on her walls. Fuck, there were still Halloween pumpkins blu-tacked up there. There was, so far, nothing on her December learning journey wall. And there were still Very Hungry Caterpillars made from bottle tops pushed into dollops of paint stuck to bright green backing paper which had been there since the kids’ first week at school back in August.

Well. Red and green were Christmassy colours. Right?

But Mrs Del Rio didn’t seem all that interested in the state of her wall displays. She’d come to ask Nina if she could film a Nativity play with her class.

“It’s for the parents really,” Bianca had rolled her eyes, folding her arms in her usual no-nonsense way. “Just something they can watch and share with the families since we can’t do a real Nativity. It doesn’t need to be anything big- just a few songs…one, two…say four. And then just have the kids in their costumes with a couple of lines. With a backdrop, y’know, there doesn’t need to be props. Just the baby Jesus…the gifts for the three Kings….maybe a couple of no vacancy signs for the innkeepers…that sort of thing. Just for before we finish up term. Maybe if it could be done by next Friday. That okay?”

And Nina, because she was a people pleaser, had nodded and said yes! and of course! and Bianca had nodded curtly at her in the frostiest thank-you the world had ever seen before leaving.

It had only taken the time in which Bianca’s heels had slowly disappeared from hearing distance for the reality of the situation to sink in for Nina. She’d just agreed to do a whole Nativity play, with songs, and costumes, and props, in the space of eight days.

She was going to be sick like little Jack had done that day he’d come into class and projectile-vomited halfway onto the carpet and halfway into Nina’s outstretched hands.

Nina was so consumed by the all-encompassing panic that she didn’t even flinch when there was a loud, jaunty knock at her classroom door.

“High Court Enforcement,” came a loud, brash voice, Nina finally turning to see who was there with glazed eyes. Willam leant against the doorframe, her messy blonde waves falling over the shoulders of her dark blue jumper like curly vines. She was the only teacher who could match the sass levels of the Year 6s and was a colleague that Nina both loved and feared. Loved because she was straight-talking and blunt and altogether hilarious, but feared because her girlfriend was the deputy head of the school and anything Nina said to her would definitely be reported back as gossip.

Also because she was, for all intents and purposes, a pint-pot riot.

“Nina. Nina. Nina,” Willam said repeatedly, her voice monotone and her persistence irritating. Nina mumbled something out.

“What?”

Nina raked her hands through her shock of frizzy blonde curls and sighed, her stress levels already rising. “I said I’m a lesbian having a panic attack.”

“Oh, that’s a mood. I was sent round to do the collection for the support staff but I’ve already spent forty minutes chatting to Alyssa instead of doing what I was asked. Got a grand total of a fiver so far,” Willam shrugged blithely, coming into Nina’s classroom and perching on one of the tiny munchkin-sized tables. “What’s up?”

The pressure-cooker that her mind was rapidly becoming told Nina to throw caution to the wind and vent, so she told Willam everything in a series of babbles barely comprehensible in the English language.

“So you’ve just agreed to doing a full Nativity video in the space of a week?” Willam cocked her head, pulling a confused face. “Why didn’t you just tell Bianca to fuck off?”

Nina paused, feeling all her panic momentarily leave her body as she fixed Willam with a glare. “Are you expecting me to answer that?”

“No, no. Shit, wouldn’t it have been amazing if you had, though? What d’you think would’ve happened? Maybe she’d’ve shouted so loud at you her lungs would’ve just exploded.”

Nina couldn’t help but blurt out a small laugh. “That’s way too dramatic. She wouldn’t even fire me on the spot because that would mean management having to go in and cover my class tomorrow while they tried to find my replacement.”

Nina regretted the small barb at their management team as soon as it was out, but Willam seemed nonplussed.

“Yeah. Court’s way too impatient to deal with your lil’ rugrats.”

“I’m too impatient to deal with them. I’m too impatient to deal with them on a day to day basis. How I’m going to teach them four Christmas songs in the space of a week, fuck knows.”

Willam cocked her head again, her smile becoming patient. “Well if anyone can do it, it’s you.”

Willam’s words were a small source of comfort to Nina. Suddenly everything seemed doable. She matched her colleague’s smile, glad she’d arrived in that moment. “Thanks, Willam.”

As soon as her words were out, she saw the small, playful twinkle in Willam’s eye. “Because nobody else would’ve been mad enough to agree to the damn thing.”

***

Getting her class sorted and organised for the day couldn’t really be likened to herding cats. No, this process was far more chaotic than that. At half past nine each day what could only be described as a minor tsunami of children hit Nina’s classroom: throwing their jackets into the designated tubs with wild abandon and subsequently knocking anything and everything off her adjacent desk, unloading every possible snack in their lunchboxes into their trays and Nina’s pleas for them to only take one snack out falling on deaf ears, spilling their water bottles and getting the zips on their jackets stuck and wanting to tell Nina a billion and one things that seemed to have happened in the 18 hours they had spent outwith her care.

During the month of December this chaos only intensified. Hats, scarves and gloves littered the classroom floor as they fell off the kids like baubles off a dead Christmas tree, shrieks filled the air as they discovered a new chocolate in the advent calendar, and at least half the class surrounded Nina like festive zombies as they all battled to win the competition of “Who can tell Miss West about what their elf on the shelf had got up to overnight the loudest”.  

Nina hammered the little bell she kept on her desk with the palm of her hand, stress levels already rising. “Okay, Reception! Jackets in tubs, snacks in trays and bums on carpet!”

As her class giggled about their teacher’s use of the word “bum”, Nina sat down in her wheely chair and waited for them all to join her on the little strip of carpet in front of her smartboard. It was moments like these where she’d be hit with a sort of out of body experience; she was someone’s teacher, she was this class’ first teacher. She was sitting in front of her class waiting to take the register and start their day. It was slightly overwhelming, even though she’d been doing the job for a number of years now.

Eventually her kids were all organised and she’d taken the register and made sure they all had a lunch to eat that day. Nina made sure to put on her best excited face as she prepared to tell them about the Nativity.

“Right, Reception!” she said, injecting lots of mystery into her voice like a storyteller. “I have got some very exciting news for you all today!”

Their little faces all grew equally excited as they were expectant, and Nina’s heart almost popped. Just then, Harry, a boy with enough gel in his hair to single-handedly keep Brylcreem in business for a year and huge bottle-top glasses’ hand went up.

“Yes, Harry?”

The boy bounced on the carpet, incredibly eager. “Can I tell you what my elf did last night?”

Ten more hands immediately shot up, and Nina’s heart sank. Great.

But she was still teaching four and five year olds and this was truly the most important thing in their little lives, so she fixed a bright smile on her face and tilted her head inquisitively. “What did your elf do?”

Harry was now sitting on his knees, towering over the other children and threatening to knock himself over with every passing second as he swayed in the nonexistent breeze. “He did a poop in my Dad’s shoes!”

The rest of the class shrieked with laughter in response. Internally, Nina was rapidly reaching her wit’s end. Love it. A bit of toilet humour to start off the Nativity rehearsals. Great. Exactly what’s needed. “Oh my goodness! What a cheeky elf!”

“He did three poops! And you know what else? They were cola jellybeans! I ate them!”

Sophie, a girl with long ginger hair in a low ponytail and a gap in her smile where two baby teeth once lived, gasped in horror. “You ate the elf’s poop?!”

The rest of the class fell about laughing. Nina had to get control back of the situation.

“Well thank you very much for sharing, Harry! Okay everyone, let’s pop our hands down.”

There were still ten hands waving proudly in the air like rebellious flags.

“We can do more elf stories at the end of the day if there’s time!” Nina lied. There would not be time. There was never time. But it placated most of her class enough for them to follow the instruction. There was, however, one remaining hand up which belonged to Jason, a boy with hair so platinum blonde it seemed otherworldly.

“It’s not an elf story! I’ve got a question,” he insisted, shouting out despite the fact his hand was already up. Nina relented, just in case he did have something important to ask. Maybe he was about to pee himself. Highly likely with the Reception kids.

Jason, pleased as punch that Nina was allowing him to speak, put his hand down. “Can I tell you a rhyming word I’ve just thought of?”

Nina’s smile grew all the more gritted, and the muscles in her face all the more tense. This was going to be the longest week she had experienced in living memory.

***

Nina would never get tired of living with Monet. The sound of her singing as the shower provided a backing track, the unholy racket she seemed to make when she cooked (a symphony of swearing, the banging of kitchen utensils, and the clattering of saucepans and baking trays). The smell of the Dior Sauvage she used instead of perfume and the Cantu hair custard she combed through her hair after she washed it. The fact that Nina could get a cuddle from her any time she wanted and the soft squash of her arms around her.

But living with Monet was best at Christmastime. The endless arguments they got into about their Christmas decorations and what looked best where, both stemming from a fierce loyalty to their own family traditions. The way they’d write their Christmas cards to their friends with a Christmas film playing in the background, and the way Monet would tease her about having such picture-perfect, font-like, primary-teacher handwriting. The way Monet would get too excited in the supermarket and load party food into Nina’s shopping basket like a child trying to sneak chocolate.

Even though Nina was completely exhausted, she still felt herself smile as she turned her key in the lock and heard her girlfriend loudly singing along with Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree, paired with the blast of the extractor fan.

“Hello?” Nina sing-songed as she closed the door shut, shedding her heavy jacket and her scuffed trainers and her backpack full of jotters that had been haphazardly stuffed in as she left work.

“Hello!” Monet chirped back, in what had become their tradition since moving in together all those years ago. “Your timing’s perfect, I just finished dinner.”

“Ooh. What is for dinner?”

Monet gestured to the pile of grated cheese, pan of bubbling baked beans, and loaf of white bread. “Beans on toast.”

Nina snorted and leaned against the counter. “Wow, don’t I have the most perfect domestic housewife! That must’ve taken, what…two hours?”

Monet reached over and squeezed her side, eliciting a yelp that would probably give their downstairs neighbours the wrong idea. “Shady bitch. It’s this or two rice cakes that’ve been in the cupboard for so long I swear they’re turning fossilised.”

“No, I’m kidding. Of course I’m hungry, thanks hun. I’ll make dinner tomorrow,” Nina promised, sliding into one of their second-hand wooden dining chairs as Monet plated up.

“No you won’t,” Monet frowned. “You look dead. What’re your kids doing to you, beating you with their tiny little chairs?”

“The fucking Nativity,” Nina sighed, pausing to thank Monet as she placed two slices of golden toast covered with beans and flakes of grated cheese down in front of her. Admittedly it did look like absolute heaven.

“Have you told Bianca to piss off yet?” Monet scowled, stabbing her toast so hard she threatened to break the plate in two.

“What kind of fantasy-land school do you work at where you can tell your headteacher to piss off and she actually listens?” Nina cocked an eyebrow at her, and Monet shrugged in agreement as she chewed a mouthful. “No, of course not. I’m going to make it happen, though, even if it kills me. We started learning the songs today, which you would think was a simple enough endeavour. Except my class, who usually can’t shut up if their lives depend on it, have all the singing volume and skill of one of Yvie and Scarlet’s cat’s chew toys. They don’t even sound like cats being strangled, that’d probably be louder. It’s like trying to have a sing-song with a room full of laryngitis patients. Except it’s not a room, because apparently we’re not allowed to sing inside because of covid. But I can teach Phonics and the kids can all make the ‘p’ sound at me until their hearts’ content and shower me with their spit like the world’s shittiest production of Singin’ In The Rain? Anyway, we have to rehearse outside. In December. I think my feet actually fell off.”

As Nina finally finished what had unintentionally become a fully-fledged rant, Monet attempted to compose herself as she wiped away a small tear of laughter from her eye and clutched at her belly. Nina watched as her girlfriend took a few deep breaths, then fixed her with a humoured grin. “But apart from all that, how was your day?”

Nina stuck her tongue out at her in response. “Shut up. How was yours?”

Monet rolled her eyes as she speared a bean. “Awful. Tried to assess time with my class today. God I love them, Neens, but they’re so bad, how can they be that bad?”

“If anyone can help them progress, it’s you,” Nina smiled encouragingly, only getting a shaken head in reply.

“No, I can’t. Nobody can. They’re beyond help. Some of the answers I got today wouldn’t even be believable if they were part of some TV comedy show. What month is Christmas in? ‘Santa’. The kid answered Santa. How many months are there in a year? ‘Sixty six’. How many days are there in a week? ‘Two’. TWO!” Monet cried, outraged. Nina couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled up in her throat, and Monet pointed warningly at her in response. “Don’t you dare laugh. This is my reality.”

“Hey, you laughed at my Nativity nightmare!” Nina giggled, to which Monet chuckled guiltily. Nina paused to swipe a bit of toast around the plate with her fork, mopping up any stray tomato sauce. When she looked up from her plate, she saw Monet tapping at her phone. Nina frowned disapprovingly. “Hey. No phones at the table.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Monet apologised quickly, though didn’t put her phone down yet. “Monique’s just sent me a screenshot of her friend that’s getting engaged. Look at the damn size of this ring.”

Monet turned her phone to show Nina. Pictured was a diamond the size of a small Pacific nation and a band encrusted with tiny gems on the finger of somebody she’d never met. Nina couldn’t help the way she screwed her face up, which made Monet blurt a laugh in response. “Not a fan, then?”

Nina pulled a face in thought. She was sure that kind of ring made some girls happy, but to her it just seemed tacky and over-the-top, not to mention heavy. “I’m sure she likes it, but I wouldn’t want something that huge. Imagine working in a Reception class with that?! Play-dough stuck in all the little crevices. And Jesus, what if you lost it? Nah, it would stress me out owning that. I would just want one simple little gold band and one singular tiny diamond. Much less of a burden.”

Monet snorted a laugh as she finished her last mouthful of dinner. “You are the only girl I’ve ever met that would consider an engagement ring a burden. Christ on a crucifix.”

“Well!” Nina protested, before realising she didn’t really have anything else to defend herself with. Then, she narrowed her eyes at her girlfriend playfully, kicking her under the table. “Why’re you so interested in my engagement ring opinions, anyway? You asking?”

Monet chuckled as she put her phone face-down on the table. “Bold of you to assume I can afford council tax, never mind a diamond.”

Nina smiled, shrugging in agreement. “Yeah, fair. What should we do tonight? I have Maths jotters to mark but then that’s me done.”

Monet tilted her head, her expression thoughtful. “I would say fucking our shit days out but I don’t even have the energy to operate a vibrator.”

Nina almost choked on her food as she laughed. “Christ, that’s a mood. Finish dinner, pyjamas, rewatch The Office for the ninety billionth time then bed at 7pm?”

“Sounds good, babe,” Monet smiled, lifting her glass of water up to cheers with as if it was sparkling wine.

***

“Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way! Oh McFun it is to ride in a waffle sofen sleigh, HEY! Jingle bells, Jin-”

“Woah, woah, woah, woah, woah,” Nina cut in, waving her hands frantically and stopping the twenty-three five and four year olds that had previously been singing their little kidney bean-sized lungs out. “What are the words?”

Her class stared back at her as if she’d just asked her what twenty-eight times thirteen was. Although Jeremiah, who was already working at Year 5 level, could probably have worked that out given enough time.

“Oh what fun it is to ride in a one horse open sleigh,” Nina said, rhythmically and clearly. “You try.”

The children all parroted it back to her in their little voices, word-perfect. Thank God, thought Nina. Jingle Bells seemed to be the only song they recognised, so if they turned out to not know it after all then Nina would very probably need an inhaler despite the fact she wasn’t at all asthmatic.

“Let’s try it with the music!” Nina said cheerfully, making sure the bluetooth speaker she’d brought outside was still on.

“Miss West,” a small voice piped up belonging to Amber, the human embodiment of a whine. “I’m cold!”

“We’ll get inside soon!” Nina replied patiently. “Just let’s practise it one more time!”

“I’m cold too,” piped up Joshua, Amber’s male counterpart.

“I’m freezing,” Amber offered again.

“I know, it’s very cold outside!” Nina smiled sympathetically, even though her teeth were gritted. “But we can’t do our singing inside because of the virus!”

“Why not?” Amber pouted.

Nina didn’t really know. The answer was because of the care inspectorate guidelines, but that was incredibly far beyond the realms of a five-year-old’s comprehension. Just then, an idea struck her.

“Well we need to sing our songs outside so that Santa can hear them when he’s taking his sleigh out for a test drive!” she said animatedly. The wide eyes and ohhhh-s she received in reply made her feel like a genius. Move over, Steven Hawking. “Okay, one more time with Jingle Bells. Nice and loud for Santa!”

“Miss West?”

Nina blinked slowly and heavily, taking a small breath before answering the newest child that demanded her attention. “Yes, Sophie?”

“I’m cold.”

“I’m cold!! We’re all cold!!” Nina replied quickly, just that shade away from snapping so that her class knew she meant business. “We’re doing the song one more time and then we’re going inside! So nice big smiles, nice loud voices, and here…we…go!”

Nina pressed play on the song before any more children could regale her with tales of how their body temperatures had dropped to that of a snowman’s.

“Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way!” they all enthusiastically sang. “Oh McFun it is to ride in a waffle sofen sleigh!”

Nina rubbed so hard at her tired eyes that she thought they might disappear into her skull. She was momentarily glad of the fact that she didn’t have a teaching assistant to help her, as to have any other adult witness this would be embarrassing in the extreme.

Just then she noticed around five parents queued up at the nursery adjacent to the playground, watching with wry smiles on their faces as they waited for their children.

“One more time!” Nina cried, as she stopped the music with freezing cold hands.

***

“So Nina, when you gonna wife your girlfriend?”

Nina very nearly spat out her tea, a horrifying milky brown hurricane only just avoided. She hadn’t been expecting to answer deep, meaningful life questions in the staffroom during a lunch hour, but Willam was the human incarnation of petrol on a campfire and with her around things were always in danger of going from zero to a hundred very quickly. To Nina’s relief Courtney was also in the staffroom, and she whipped around from the countertop and gave her girlfriend daggers.

“Willam!” Courtney chastised her in a hiss that Nina wasn’t quite sure was meant to be audible. Willam only gave her an incredulous glare, affronted that she seemed to be the voice of reason in the conversational chaos.

“What?! Just askin’. I mean you’re what…twenty-nine? Twenty eight?”

“Twenty-six,” Nina replied. She was now at the age where being assumed she was older than she was was a curse, not a blessing. (If she’d told seventeen-year-old Nina that one day she would be disappointed at no longer being ID’d for wine at Sainsburys she’d have laughed in her face.)

“Exactly. That’s wifeing age. Mid to late twenties.”

“Hey, I passed that stage long ago, where the hell’s my ring?“ Courtney asked Willam, stirring the coffee she’d poured into one of the many, many “World’s Best Teacher!” mugs that littered the staffroom cupboards. Willam responded by turning around in her chair and positioning her pencil skirt-clad ass in the air.

“Right here, bitch!”

“Christ Almighty,” Courtney turned away from her, rolling her eyes so hard they looked like little spheric dice. As Willam gave her best impression of a seal on laughing gas, Nina cast her eyes over to Sasha who was sitting at the other end of the staffroom. As they caught each others’ eyes they shared a long-suffering smile that mourned the death of peace and quiet.

Nina was glad the conversation had been diverted from the subject of her perceived lack of marriage plans. Until Sasha opened her mouth, that is.

“I wouldn’t worry, Nina. Me and Shea haven’t had that conversation either. I mean we’d both love to, but there’s more important stuff for us right now, you know? We’re saving for a house and I think we’d rather live in a place we’ve chosen for the foreseeable future than just having one singular big lavish day.”

“It’s all about what you want to do with the person you love the most, isn’t it? Not just doing what society wants you to do,” Courtney chipped in, her voice warm and kind. “Like me and Willam used to be total party girls before we got our shit together. And now, like…there’s nothing I’d rather do of a weekend than curl up with her on the sofa and get all cosy with a film and a blanket and a cup of tea.”

Willam scoffed affectionately. “That’s your ideal weekend plan? What are you, forty?”

“Yes? As are you?” Courtney replied incredulously. Nina heard Sasha snort in her chair. As she turned her gaze back to the other two girls she realised that Willam was still looking at her expectantly. Nina sank back into her seat, a little reserved.

“It���s not really something we’ve spoken about? Well…no, we have spoken about it, obviously,” she babbled, watching as Willam took on the look of someone witnessing a victim of cardiac arrest. “Like we both want to get married. To each other, of course. But teaching is just such a busy job all the time and…you know, we only bought our flat last Summer and…I don’t know, it’s nice not to have everything happen all at once, right?”

Courtney nodded emphatically in agreement. “Of course! And I mean, if she asked, you’d say yes, right?”

Nina had to stop herself from pulling a face. How am I having this conversation with my boss? “Well, yeah. God, I couldn’t imagine life without her at all.”

Willam pretended to gag, which Nina thought was pretty rich from the woman who had begun the entire conversation. Courtney seemed to pick up on her girlfriend’s distaste.

“I don’t think Willam has ever said anything that cute about me!”

Willam turned around to look at her girlfriend, disbelief on her face. “Yeah, I only left my damn husband for you. Fuck me, right?”

Nina’s eyes widened as Sasha gave a yelp from across the staffroom. That was a small piece of workplace gossip she hadn’t expected to learn today. As Courtney’s face turned red and she shot Willam a warning glare, she turned to Nina once more.

“Nina, how’s the Nativity going?” Courtney beamed artificially at her, moving the conversation along with all the grace and decorum of a one-wheeled snow plow.

Considering the question, Nina thought that she’d rather be discussing marriage plans with her boss and colleagues again. “It’s going.”

“That’s a ringing endorsement. I’m sure that was on the poster of Titanic too,” Willam chipped in.

“It wouldn’t be any less disastrous than the actual fate of the Titanic, at least the passengers could’ve probably remembered the words to fucking Jingle Bells,” Nina deadpanned, causing Willam to break into fits of clubbed seal laughter.

Sasha pouted sympathetically from the other side of the room. “It’s those cute bits that the parents love, though, isn’t it? They won’t mind if they get the words wrong.”

“I’m sure there needs to be a foundation of at least an audible tune though, Sash,” Nina smiled resignedly back at her.

“If Bianca wants a Nativity so bad, just tell her to come teach your class,” Willam half-suggested, half-yelled. “Or get Court to teach them! They prolly don’t need to be in tune anyway!”

Courtney’s expression appeared to be the same as Nina’s after her morning’s rehearsal. “Do you ever stop talking shit?”

“You think I’m bad? That bell is going to go for the Comp’s lunch break in five minutes, Bob is gonna arrive, an’ then it’s RIP our eardrums,” Willam said, pointing to the staffroom door for dramatic effect.

“At least Bob has never presented his clothed arsehole to his partner in front of his colleagues,” Courtney cut in at once, her tone deadpan and making Nina splutter a laugh.

“Aw, c’mon Court! That’s just banter. These girls don’t mind.”

“It’s unprofessional!” Courtney clutched her chest. Willam only snorted in response.

“Unprofessional? What are you, forty?”

“We’re the same age!!” Courtney cried in response, her incredulous tone only setting Nina off in a further fit of laughter.

It was only later on that night once she had driven back home, parked, and approached her and Monet’s flat that Nina remembered the staffroom conversation. She cast her gaze up to their first-floor window in their red brick building, almost being able to feel the way her heart gave a swell at the sight of their Christmas tree framed proudly within the glass. And as she got in through the front door, Monet greeted her with a hug and a takeaway leaflet.

“We’ve got nothing in the fridge, so I thought we could get noodles? This came through the door today and I think-” Monet raises her eyebrows, slapped the leaflet into the palm of her hand decisively. “- it’s a sign from God.”

“Well, when you put it like that,” Nina laughed, shrugging off her coat and feeling grateful for not having to cook.

It was only when they were both curled up on the couch, empty pad thai containers in front of them, that Nina turned to Monet and saw the lights on the tree reflected in her eyes. She turned to her girlfriend, threw an arm round her and snuggled in to her side.

“What’s up?” Monet asked, her voice soft and sleepy and a little concerned.

“Nothing,” Nina sighed. It was true. There wasn’t really anything up, and she was the happiest she’d ever been. But she still turned to Monet, tilting her head up inquisitively. “You don’t feel under any pressure at all, do you?”

Monet snorted. “I feel under pressure to get fifteen children who can’t write the word cat on their own to magically be able to write a sentence by the end of the year, yeah.”

Nina rolled her eyes. “No! I mean, like…in life. You didn’t just…buy this flat with me because you felt you had to, right? You wouldn’t do anything because you felt obliged to?”

Monet raised a single eyebrow back at her. “Yeah, I decided to piss my life savings away on a deposit for a flat because I felt I had to. Jesus Christ, Neens.”

“No, no, I know,” Nina chuckled, realising how silly the whole thing now sounded. “But I just mean…in life, like milestones and stuff. You’d never do stuff because you felt you had to keep up, in some way? Reach some goal by a certain age?”

Monet brought an arm around Nina and cuddled her closer, kissing her hair and resting her chin on top of her head. “Everything I do in life, I do because I want to. Especially when it comes to you. Promise.”

Nina gave her girlfriend a squeeze, happy. She took a deep breath, smelt the fabric softener on Monet’s jumper that they both used but just seemed to smell better and feel softer on everything Monet wore.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

***

Nina sat in a child-sized chair with her knees practically up to her chest, a crumpled, printed-out script on her lap that she’d hastily typed up on her work iPad’s notes app the following evening. Her class sat behind her in costumes pulled on over their school uniforms, with books and pens and pieces of paper with botched photocopying on the back under strict instructions not to talk until the whole thing was filmed.

“Okay, Amber!” she smiled breezily at the small girl whose school blouse was sticking out under her angel costume. “You’re kicking off the video. So your line is two thousand years ago, an angel came to a woman called Mary. Practise it for me?”

Amber gripped the hem of her taffeta skirt in two tiny white-knucked fists. “I don’t want to.”

Nina bit her lip. Great start. Fantastic. “We can give it a try together?”

Reluctantly, Amber parroted the words in tandem with her. So far so good.

“Okay. Now do you want to go up against the backdrop and I can film you doing it?”

Amber’s ponytail full of flyaways swung wildly as she shook her head. Nina thought for a moment. Then her eyes came to rest on Hazel- the class’ Mary and, coincidentally, Amber’s best friend.

“What about if Hazel stands with you?”

That seemed to change things and, only slightly hesitantly, both girls got up in front of the hastily staple-gunned silver tinsel.

“Okay Amber. Two thousand years ago, an angel came to a woman called Mary. Ready?”

A nod in reply.

“Go!”

Amber took a deep, shaky breath in. “Two thousand years ago….a woman called Mary.”

Nina stopped filming, fixed the girl with a kind smile. “An angel came to a woman called Mary. Try again?”

The iPad was back in filming mode, and Amber went again. “Two thousand years ago, a…a…a little cute angel came to Mary.”

Nina stopped filming, fixed Amber with two thumbs up. That’ll do.

Things seemed to be going well as Hazel and Oliver (or, Mary and Angel Gabriel) got through their lines without too many bumps in the road. Then, it was time for Amber to take to the stage (or blue curtain with a tinsel border) once more.

“Okay Amber, so your line this time is…Mary told her husband Joseph. Want to practise?”

“Mary told her husband Joseph,” Amber repeated, with all the enthusiasm of a patient about to undergo a colonoscopy. With two days til the deadline, this would have to suffice.

“Perfect! Ready? Three…two…one…go!” Nina smiled encouragingly, as she hit record.

Amber stood beside Mary and Joseph, a little grin on her own face. “Mary told her husband Joyce.”

“…Joseph,” Nina reminded her. Where the fuck had Joyce come from? She hit record again.

“Three…two…one…go!”

“Mary told her husband Joyce.”

Nina couldn’t stop herself from bursting out laughing. “Joseph, Amber!”

The little girl nodded earnestly. “Joseph Amber.”

Nina spluttered. “No…Amber is your name. Joseph is Mary’s husband.”

“Ohhhhhh.”

Nina shook her head, amused. This was what she loved about teaching. None of the other girls working from home could say that they got to spend their day feeling like they were stuck in an episode of You’ve Been Framed.

“Go again. Mary told her husband Joseph. Three…two…one…”

“Mary told…em…um…I can’t remember,” Amber giggled. Nina could feel her own giggles bubbling up inside herself, but she had to stop otherwise it would set her whole class off.

“Mary told her husband Joseph,” Nina repeated, both Amber and Hazel now giggling to each other. “Shh shh! Okay…three…two…one…”

Amber composed herself, took a deep breath. “Mary told her husband Joyce.”

Christ Alive. Nina gasped incredulously, unable to help herself from laughing now. The whole class, Amber herself, and Nina was pretty sure God, were all doing the same. She put her head in her hands, her whole body now shaking with laughter. “Joseph!!”

She already couldn’t wait to tell everybody she knew this story. Not least so she could cement in her mind that it was something that actually happened to her, and not just simply the script of a comedy show she’d dreamed up. Miraculously, mercifully, she managed to get the rest of her class settled down and for Amber to say the correct line on film, even if Nina could be faintly heard frantically mouthing “Joseph!” in the background.

Eventually they reached the innkeepers. Easy enough, in theory.

“Okay, Carter,” Nina smiled encouragingly at the first innkeeper. “When Mary and Joseph ask for a room, you say ‘no, sorry!’. Okay?”

Carter nodded, half a finger stuck up his nose. Nina gestured to him to put his hands down, then began filming. As directed, Mary and Joseph asked if there was any room at the inn.

“YES,” the little boy shouted. The whole class burst out laughing. Nina did not.

Just then, Willam walked past the open door with her class. She gave her a look of inquisition, shooting her a tentative, questioning thumbs up.

Nina put her head in her hands in reply.

***

By some miracle of nature (although it could also have been Nina giving up on work that afternoon) Nina had made it back to the flat before five o’clock. This never happened- five pm was usually the time she left work, but a day full of recording Nativity clips and then putting them together on iMovie while her class played (read; caused havoc) had been tiring and she needed Monet, chocolate, and Merlot.

Only the first thing she heard when she opened the door to her flat wasn’t Monet singing, or the hum of the extractor fan. It was the grainy crackle of a Zoom call and an incredibly distinctive voice.

“So when you doin’ it? Do it tonight. Do it when she gets home from work.”

Monet’s voice- humoured, long-suffering. “I’m not doing it then, Vanj, she’ll be exhausted.”

“That was honestly your best suggestion? When she gets home from work?” Brooke’s voice. “Aren’t you the pinnacle of romance!”

Nina had realised that Monet was on a Zoom call with all the girls, from the way Vanessa had obviously kissed Brooke on camera was being met with half a dozen cries in protest from the others. She excitedly shrugged off her coat and unwrapped herself from her scarf, eager to see her friends again. Part of her was intrigued, though. Why were they all calling each other without her?

“My question is how you’re going to do it,” Akeria’s voice came, as questioning as always. “It needs to be good but it better not be too damn cheesy.”

“An’ you better make sure she got her nails done, she might say no if she ain’t got her nails done!” Silky came shouting through Monet’s Macbook speakers.

“Yeah, you better make it as romantic as you can, Mo,” Scarlet added, making Nina wonder what the hell it was they were all talking about. Before she could wonder any further, she heard Yvie’s distinctive snort of a laugh.

“You are in no position to speak about romance, I mean, need I remind you how you asked me?”

“Shut up,” Scarlet replied, her tone a little bashful as the other girls laughed.

“Monet I could hire you a plane if you really wanted,” Plastique offered, making Nina snort despite the fact she had no idea what the conversation was about.

“Shut up, bitch,” Nina could practically hear the roll of Akeria’s eyes.

Nina toed her shoes off and finally padded through to the kitchen, where Monet’s eyes grew wide when she saw her, her body visibly flinching.

“Hey, babe!” she smiled, looking a little startled. “You’re home earlier than usual!”

“Oh sorry, am I interrupting your Zoom call with all your side chicks?” Nina deadpanned, forcing her way onto Monet’s lap to see her friends on the screen.

“Ninaaa!!!” Vanessa’s face popped up first, her friend waving excitedly as she sat on her sofa in Brooke’s arms. “How are you, girl?”

“Shattered,” Nina sighed, rubbing her eyes harshly. “Just filmed the whole Nativity with the rugrats today. Think it took ten years off my lifespan. How’re you?”

“Good,” Brooke smiled back through the screen. “We ordered our Christmas food today. Trying to convince this one that we don’t need twelve pigs in blankets between two people.”

Vanessa scowled back at her from their position on the sofa. “Uh, yes the hell we do!”

“Twelve pigs in blankets as well as the turkey, stuffing, and all the veg? Y’all are gonna explode,” Akeria said disapprovingly.

“Kiki! How are you?” Nina cried with delight, seeing her friend’s tired but smiling face appear on screen.

“Good. Don’t stop work for a while yet, but it’s fine. Still flat hunting.”

“How’s Pri?” Nina asked, heartened by the way Akeria looked down, trying and failing to suppress a smile.

“Yeah, she’s good. Still batshit crazy. Horny all the time.”

“The ideal girlfriend, really,” Yvie said, a wry smile on her face.

“Nina!” Silky suddenly cut in, yelling. “Did you hear any of what we were talkin’ about before?”

Nina frowned, shook her head. “Something about planes and nails. And cheese. I’m too exhausted to have paid enough attention. Why, were you having a mad bitchfest about me?”

“Trying to ask the girls how best to dump you,” Monet deadpanned. Nina shot Monet a look and squeezed her leg, resulting in her girlfriend yelping and cracking her knee off the table.

Whatever the previous conversation was was soon forgotten about as excited catchups took over. Silky was excited as she was interviewing some singer that Nina had never heard of and wanted the girls to help her work out what questions she was going to ask her. Yvie and Scarlet were lamenting the fact they had to host both of their families for Christmas and had bought a turkey so big Scarlet wasn’t sure it would fit in their oven, and Plastique was telling them the weirdest things she’d been gifted by companies desperate for her to endorse them on Instagram.

“I got a box of sex toys from LoveHoney. That was probably the most random. Me and Naomi had a wild fucking night that night.”

“STOP BEIN’ GROSS,” Silky had yelled down the line, causing Nina to hammer Monet’s volume down button.

Eventually the call came to an end, but not before lots of promises to catch up soon once the situation across the world was better than the shitshow it was currently. As Monet closed her laptop, Nina threw her arms around her neck and nuzzled into her side.

“I miss them,” she sighed, and Monet patter her back comfortingly.

“I know, babe. I miss them too.”

There was a moment of pensive silence, and then Nina spoke again, the Nativity never too far away from her mind.

“I can’t export this video.”

“What?”

“The Nativity video. I can’t export it,” Nina muttered pitifully against her girlfriend’s shoulder.

Monet kissed her hair, making to stand up. “You get a cup of tea. I’ll fix your video.”

“You’re the best,” Nina sighed gratefully, walking over to the kettle.

It was only after she’d sat down with a cup of tea and Monet had promised she’d sorted her video that Nina thought about the conversation she’d walked in on earlier.

She had a strange feeling that it had something to do with her.

***

When Nina arrived at work that morning, she could tell something was…a little different. She couldn’t really tell what it was. It started with the slightly knowing smile Tatianna shot her from across the corridor.

“Congrats, Nina!” she shouted down to her before she ducked into her own classroom.  

“Uh…thanks,” she replied a little too late. Okay, the Nativity process had been stressful, but did she really need congratulated?

She supposed she appreciated it. It had been a whirlwind of a process, after all.

Only the odd thing was, it continued. The congratulations came pouring in; Alaska, Ivy from the Nursery school, Alyssa had cooed and gushed for ages about how exciting it was and how happy she was for her.

Nina had only blinked in reply, a little bewildered. “Thanks, Alyssa. It was a stress, but they managed to pull it off in the end.”

Alyssa gave her a funny look, then realisation seemed to dawn on her. “Oh…they’re non-binary! You know I never knew that, sorry sugar. Well congratulations to you both.”

With that, Alyssa hurried away only leaving Nina more confused than ever.

What in the fuck?

When the bell rang and Nina went to collect her class from the line, things only got weirder. Before she could hurry her class inside, Harry’s Mum waved at her from behind the school gate, beckoning her over. Nina’s heart began to sink- she was going to ask her why Harry was only a shepherd, wasn’t she, or why he didn’t get a solo during Little Donkey, or some-other-bullshit-like-that.

To Nina’s surprise, she held up a sparkly gift bag.

“Hi, sorry for bothering you!” she beamed at her. This was already unheard of- a parent apologising for taking up her time? Nina was beginning to question if she had slipped through a crack in the fabric of reality while she’d been sleeping when Harry’s Mum spoke again. “Me and the other parents had a quick whipround and got you a couple of things and a little card to say congratulations! We thought it was the least we could do given your lovely news.”

It was only after Nina had thanked her profusely, taken the bag and led her children into class that her words sank in. What lovely news was she on about?

Nina taught that morning in a daze. Well, ‘taught’ was pushing it; the last few days of term were always movie days or games days, and today was the former. Nina had decided to inject a bit of an educational element to it by showing her class Nativity and then asking them if they thought the film’s play was better than the one they’d put on. Despite it being one of her favourite Christmas films, though, she still wondered why everyone had been congratulating her today. Maybe her Nativity video had really been so amazingly good that people just had to comment on it. Nina decided that this was the only plausible explanation, and so was feeling particularly spirited as it reached breaktime and she sent the kids out to play.

She was sitting in her classroom reading all the messages she’d missed on her group chat when Willam practically crashed through her door.

“Oh my God!” she yelled, practically vibrating with excitement. “Congratulations, you lucky fucker! That’s gotta be the cutest damn thing I’ve ever seen. I mean Bianca probably wants your head on a plate for keeping it in, but still! How’re you celebrating? Should we go to the shop at lunchtime and get prosecco? I mean it’s the last few days of term, I’m sure drinking on the job’s allowed. Court wouldn’t tell anyone.”

Willam was talking with such speed that it took a few seconds for Nina to register everything she’d said. “Why…would Bianca want my head on a plate?”

Willam snorted. “I mean it’s kinda obvious. You don’t think she’s gonna be pissed about it? Then again, maybe she won’t. I don’t know, I can’t get inside her head. I’m not on that Honey I Shrunk The Kids kinda bullshit.”

Nina felt her head was so clouded that even if she possessed the brightest fog lights in the world she still couldn’t see what Willam was trying to say.

“Willam,” she asked, slowly and carefully as she rested her head in her hands. “What the hell are you talking about?”

There was a pause as Willam froze, then as her eyes became huge and wide as she slowly raised a finger to point at Nina. “Jesus Harvey Christ. You…you don’t know, do you?”

Nina frowned, bewildered. “Know what?”

“Oh my God. You don’t know. This is the best thing ever. You don’t even know!” Willam howled with laughter, then, before Nina could ask what she was meant to not know, Willam had dashed out of her classroom and had begun yelling into the hall. “Courtney! Court! She doesn’t know!”

Nina began to feel her heart beat in heavy thuds as the bell went to signal the end of playtime. What didn’t she know?

Eventually Nina managed to reach the end of the day. How, she didn’t know. She was so confused by all the different odd events of the day that she felt she didn’t properly make sense at any point to her class, but that probably didn’t matter as they were all so wrapped up in Christmas nonsense that Nina could’ve left the classroom and they wouldn’t have given a shit.

She was just getting ready to leave work for the weekend when Bianca stuck her head into her classroom and made her almost jump fifty feet in the air.

“Nina,” she began, in her own blunt, abrasive way. She didn’t wait for Nina to greet her as she continued. “I know you must be wandering around with your head in the clouds at the moment, but next time do you think you could maybe just run the video by me first? I mean you’re very lucky that the parents took that well. I mean it’s really about the kids, y’know?”

Nina could only blink at her wide-eyed like a deer in the headlights, getting into trouble but not entirely sure what for. Loath to say anything in response, she simply nodded.

“I mean you should’ve really kept it out,” Bianca frowned. She let the awkward, tense silence hang in the air for a few moments before a humoured smile appeared on her face. “But congratulations. I’m very happy for you.”

Without stopping for Nina to reply, Bianca had turned on her heel and left her classroom. Nina could only look at the space she’d previously been standing in. Maybe all of this was a dream. A fever dream. She’d probably contracted some sort of illness and was experiencing some hallucinogenic vision.

She didn’t know how she made it home without causing a crash, but she managed, and as soon as she was through the door she began to vent to the person she loved most.  

“Monet!” she called through to the kitchen, hanging her belongings up. “I’ve had the weirdest fucking day in living memory. So first all the teachers were congratulating me…then I got a present from the parents…then Willam was screaming about me not knowing something…and then Bianca gave me a row at the end of the day…but I still don’t know exactly why…but then she said congratulations to me too?”

It was only when Nina stopped and walked through to the kitchen that she saw the kitchen table all done up with candles and laid beautifully, Nina’s favourite meal (slow cooker beef and buttery mash) on two plates, and Monet sitting at the table with her makeup done, dressed in a backless blue bodycon that Nina had once very nearly broke the zip of trying to rip it off her one weekend away.

“Uh…” Nina frowned, more confused than ever. Slowly, as a smile spread across Monet’s face, she began to connect all the dots of weird and the picture it presented illustrated that somehow her girlfriend had to be behind it all. “Okay, what’s going on?”

Monet got up and leant against the kitchen counter. She very gently took both of Nina’s hands in hers. “You didn’t watch the whole video once I exported it, did you?”

Something like dread crossed with excitement began to pool in Nina’s gut. She narrowed her eyes. “Monet…what did you do?”

Wordlessly, Monet reached back across to the table where she picked up her phone and loaded up the Nativity video. Skipping to the end, she got past the end of Jingle Bells and showed the video to Nina. The screen faded to black, and then, Nina watched as another little title card faded into view.

To the teacher that always gives so much of herself to others, I now want to give all of myself to you.

Miss West, will you marry me?

Love, Monet x

And suddenly everything in Nina felt as if it was made of fire, adrenaline and jet fuel. Her eyes flew open, her hand smacked against her shocked, gaping mouth. Her pulse raced and her heart hammered and all of her limbs turned to jelly to the extent she wasn’t sure she was able to stand any more. When she took her eyes off her phone screen and looked at Monet, her girlfriend was down on their kitchen floor, down on one knee like in every princess movie Nina had ever seen, her hair soft and curled and loose on her shoulders and a bright smile on her painted taupe lips. Gemstone tears brimmed in her dark eyes and hung from her lashes like icicles, and there, in her outstretched hands, was an open navy box.

Inside was a ring - gold band, one small diamond - and it was when Nina saw it that she gave a sob, her own tears springing from her eyes like a broken fountain, uncontrollable and erratic.

“Oh, baby, c’mere,” Monet gave a small laugh, shaking her head and immediately rising from the floor to wrap her arms around her in a hug. Nina took a few shaky, shallow breaths, pawing at Monet’s chest to release herself from her grip and look her in the eyes.

“You! You knew…all this time, and you…you put it in the video, oh my GOD, Monet, I could’ve got in so much trouble…I did get in so much trouble, oh my God…and you didn’t even tell me-”

“I thought you’d at least watch the damn thing through before you uploaded it!” Monet burst out laughing through her tears, and Nina joined in in a lightheaded, giddy way.

“I can’t believe this is real. Fuck. My whole body feels like that time we did poppers in Crete. Oh my God. Is this happening? You want to marry me?”

“Well, I would love to marry you, but I’m waiting on an answer,” Monet smiled bashfully, bringing her arm out from around Nina’s waist and holding the ring up so Nina could see it.

The diamond only seemed to glisten more when she saw it through the tears in her own eyes, and the gold shone warm like the brightest star. It was an engagement ring- her engagement ring- and it was real, and it was surreal, but Monet was in front of her waiting for an answer with tears in her eyes and hope in her heart that matched her own.

And Nina had never been one to say no to anything.

[sabineelectricheart]

Teetering on the Edge

Summary: Sylvain and Byleth’s relationship is on the rocks. He is committed to make it work, though.

Rating: K+ - Suitable for more mature childen, 9 years and older, with minor action violence without serious injury. May contain mild coarse language. Should not contain any adult themes.

Words: 1600

Notes: It’s an AU. It’s not as good as this brilliance, but I hope you like it all the same.

Sylvain woke up at an ungodly early hour and rolled over to see Byleth’s sleeping face being highlighted by the dawning sun. He could not sleep anymore, and so decided to open his eyes and get it over with before he feels sick to his stomach in anxiety.

The placid sleeping figure next to him did help to diminish his unease, and he felt fortunate that it did not so happen that she packed a bag overnight and fled back to her parents’ house down the street. By the grace of the Goddess, in a few minutes they woke up next to one another, even if after a heated night.

They fought the previous night, rather heatedly. Of course, they made up very quickly, and he even manage to persuade some sex out of her, but they fought nonetheless. The arguing they had partaken in the night prior was initiated by Sylvain, but she instantly bit back. She was feisty. He loved that about her.

What he did not love, however, was that they had been fighting much too often lately. They were both under a lot of stress in their last year of college, and it was really taking a heavy toll on them, both emotionally and physically. Not to mention all the circumstances that plagued them.

Byleth’s entire family worked at the university, where they observe very critically her successes and failures. It was stressing for anyone, but more so to the very stoic girl, who had trouble venting her feelings appropriately sometimes. As for Sylvain, he came to Garreg Mach to flee from his overbearing family, but this temporary refuge would soon fade away, as graduation veered ever closer. His current situation was unsustainable, but returning in the Summer to Gautier, for what will be the first time in almost a decade, is absolutely unthinkable.

For many years, ever since Dimitri introduced his new colleague Byleth to their usual drinking group, they had leaned into one another to silence the voices and pressures from the outside. They were each other’s best friend, their own living and breathing, and sometimes tough-loving, diary, if you will.

Yet, at the end of the day, they could only fill the pages up so much before they run out. There was only so much bullshit one can handle before snapping, after all, and the redhead knows he is teetering much too close to that limit, and the root of the problem might just be what throws him over the edge.

Sylvain remembered when him and Byleth started their escapades. They were always tight, ever since that fateful night at the Wilted Rose Inn, the absolute worst bar in the Upper City of Garreg Mach. Sylvain thought she was hot and a great addition to his roster of conquests, she thought he was ridiculous.

Over the course of that night, they talked and discovered more about each other that they liked, and a friendship was born. At the beginning, they were inseparable, attached at the hip, but soon they began to be close in other meanings of the word. They were always making out in closets, sharing sweet kisses in his bedroom, sharing rough kisses in his bedroom.

He remembers twirling her as they drunkenly danced on the deck by the fishing pond on more than one occasion. Getting tipsy and going out on the town was the norm for Sylvain and Byleth those years. It was how they would relax after a long day of classes, whenever their timetables matched.

Oh, how he missed those times. They did not really do that stuff anymore, and it was kind of Sylvain’s fault.

Byleth was adored by everyone, boys and girls alike. Even Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, their sullen Boar Prince himself, was so whipped for her one would think that she hung the stars and the moon for him. Sylvain had always felt this uncontrollable twinge of jealousy whenever she would be around the blond, which, considering they were classmates as International Relations bachelors, was quite often.

Besides, his parents taught him at a young age, Dimitri’s needs and wants are to be privileged over anyone else’s. The Gautier boy fears the day when these prerogatives will finally be enforced and the boar takes away his girlfriend, willingly or not.

In truth, Sylvain honestly thought that his girlfriend could do much better, but he knows perfectly well that the Boar Prince was not that guy, either. Byleth was intelligent, put together, focused and so, so beautiful. She knew what she was doing. She was too good for him.

A few Moons into the relationship, as was to be expected, the redhead began to doubt himself. Doubt his charm, his wit, his confidence. His charm made him too flirtatious with others, his wit and confidence slowly became arrogance. He grew more insecure.

Simply put, Sylvain was struggling. He was still dealing with his family problems, which he did not talk to Byleth about. He knew he should, but all that the Gautiers ever gave him was shame, embarrassment and a legion of leeches ready to pounce. He was not about to let them taint the one good thing he managed to wriggle out of life, regardless of whatever Ingrid had to say on the subject.

The pressure made him spiral into depression. Those tipsy nights dancing on the university grounds turned into Sylvain doing shot after shot of expensive whiskey as he moped around watching the Food Network at his too-large of a TV, while Byleth pursed her lips and tried to shake him off his foul mood.

It did not work, of course, and it often led to fights like the one yesternight, but she did not have any other ideas. She did not know what she could do to bring the old Sylvain back, but Goddess, she wanted so much to be there for him.

Sylvain did not know what to do with himself. He was losing himself under an ocean of anger and hard spirits. Sylvain was not a crier, but man did he cry after a few shots of whiskey. Byleth would embrace him so tightly and kiss his temple as he sobbed on her shoulder. His tears would soak into her shirt.

He knew that she cared so much, she was such a bright force in his life, she was golden, the very sun over their small piece of the world, and Sylvain? He was the moon. He would take over and make the brightness disappear. He hated that her brightness was dimming, and that it was because of him.

Sylvain could tell that Byleth was worried about their relationship. Neither of them was stupid or blind. The writing was on the wall, but despite the pressure it put on both of them, he still could not manage to just come out and say what has been plaguing him for so long, and she does not have the strength to wrestle it out of him any longer. She was scared about if their relationship would be able to pull through this, and he was scared, too. He did not want to lose her. If it so happened that he did, he knew he would have deserved it, but man, did he want to preserve it.

So, since it was so stressing to even be together, they began to avoid each other. His girlfriend spent most of her free time with Mercedes and Annette these days. She seemed so happy whenever she would be with them, and she just did not seem that way around Sylvain anymore. Soon, she would meet another man, some annoying goody-two-shoes from the Botanics Department, with whom she would fall in love and leave him for.

He knew he needed to do something. He could not let himself just lose the only person he ever felt love towards, the only person he ever felt that actually loved him. He does not have much time to salvage whatever was left from the love they shared just a few Moons ago.

It was pretty obvious at this point that he needed to go to a psychologist. He needed to be able to talk out his problems. He needed to be able to release what was bothering him, what was holding him back. He wanted to clear his head, and he wanted to be able to tell Byleth the truth of what lies beneath the surface. He had to tell her about his family, not telling her was physically and psychologically paining him. He did not want to keep secrets from her, but he did not want her to be scared off, either.

Yet, he could rest easy on the knowledge that she was the sun. She would not shy away from him. She would embrace him. She would embrace him for all that he was. Sylvain was not where he came from, he is not his horrid family or stupid last name. What happened with them made him who he is, but in the best possible way. When he finally comes clean to his girlfriend, he is certain that a weight will be lifted off of his shoulders, as well as hers.

It would take some time for the two of them to get back to normal, however, but they will heal together. Byleth loved Sylvain. She wanted to be there for him, be there through whatever he was struggling with. Sylvain loved Byleth. He knew that he was screwing things up, and he wanted to fix whatever he could.

They were not perfect, but nobody really is.

*_*_*_*_*

Fire Emblem Masterlist

Three Houses Masterlist

[graciieuse]

😘

Send 😘 for my muse’s honest opinion about your muse

Them as a person: blonde. 

Level of attractiveness: the years have been kind to you. 

What annoys them most: your affiliation with ov.erw.atch, your goody two-shoes schtick. weren’t you colleagues with moira? oh, that’s enough for me to hate you. 

What they like the most:  hair. 

What they’d do if they were locked in a closet together for 4 hours: probably get my ear talked off. 

Overall opinion: not the most-offending person on my hit list. 

Rating: 4/10 

[askfrankpritchard]

Happy Late New Years

She sat in her cockpit waiting for the person on the other end of the infolink to pick up. It rings four times before it stops. “Hey Malik! Ready to get the show on the road?” “I'll be down there in five David, see you then.” The infolink clicked off and Malik adjusted into her seat as she readied the VTOL for flight. She quickly glanced at three small photos on her control board. The first was a young woman in her 20’s with a blond bob and a warm smile. Malik smiled back as she remembered her days with Evelyn Carmichael. The next one beside it was a picture of a well groomed Adam Jensen about to go make a speech. He tried his best not to fumble while speaking. The last one was a blurry photo of Frank that she managed to sneak while Adam distracted him. They were so close to a perfect photo. “We’re coming for ya lazy boy,” she booped it and adjusted her headset. She landed her VTOL and opened the side door so David could climb in. He hopped on with two Vintage Champagnes under his arm wrapped in a light cloth. “I brought some spirits for when the occasion arises,” David paused to sneeze, ”I hope they're to your tastes.” “Gesundheit and you better not drink those in the VTOL, you know how I like to keep it clean.” Malik warned him. “So where is this place he’s staying in? All you’ve told me is that it's abandoned and rundown.” David inquired. “It's an old decrepit school that was torn down not too long ago. And from the looks of it the roof will cave in. I'll have to land nearby…” Malik lands in some nearby open space right next to the rotting building. She walks around until she finds tons of wires  and the soft glow of light coming from what was supposedly the band room. She walks in to see Pritchard snoozing on his old leather couch in need of a shave and a week's worth of sleep just by looking at the bags under his eyes. Malik creeps up and gently shoves him just enough to make him freak out and sit up spastically. “Malik, what the hell are you doing here? How did you even find me?” “With magic Frank, now hurry up and get up! Let's get you out of this dump, it's New Year!” “I wasn't planning on going anywhere today if you hadn't noticed,” Malik offers her hands to help Frank stand up as he popped his back and accepted the gesture. “And that's why we’re here, now come on!” She started to drag him away and he stumbled a few times trying to get his shoes adjusted. “Wait, we’re? Who else?” Malik gave no answer and just dragged him on. On their way out, Frank swatted at the light panel to turn off everything and lock the door. “Don't you think the lasers are a bit too much?” Malik questioned glancing back briefly at the mentioned lasers then at the scruffy man. “Well that depends, would you like it if a bunch of looters with shotguns waltzed in and demanded everything you own? I think not. Where are you taking me Malik?” He asked quite rudely. “You always ask so many questions Mr. Paranoid, but to answer your question, I'm taking you to my VTOL.” “Oh how specific.” Emphasizing on the last word. “Just shut up and trust me.” Malik hadn't meant it to sound mean, but he can be a bit stubborn sometimes. “Your chariot awaits,” joked Faridah as she gestured toward her VTOL. The side door of the B-EE slid opened to reveal a dashing CEO crossing his legs and waving at Frank. “Happy New Years, son!” David cheerfully said as he patted the cushioned seat beside him. “Well doesn't this feel familiar. Coming out of a dingy hell hole to be seated next to a CEO who's crazy enough to offer me a job.” He ducked inside and plopped down wincing a bit from the lack of cushion. Cheap seats. “What do you want me to do today?” Frank said in an almost practiced tone. “I'm hurt Frank, but that's not why I'm here.” “Oh goodie, so what was the reason?” “To get you out of that dump and celebrate New Year's with us!” He handed Frank a wine glass he had hidden then reached under the seat for the Champagne de Prestige and right as he was about to open it Malik came on the coms. “You better not be opening that sticky liquor inside of a moving  aircraft and especially not inside of my VTOL.” She signed off with an angry click, but not before another announcement, “ETA is five minutes. I'm sure you can wait that long.” “Well you heard her Frank. We’re just going to have to wait to celebrate.” David huffed as he put the bottle back. The VTOL landed on a helipad with a bump. The heavy doors sliding open as a gust freezing wind came gliding by. “Let's hurry inside. An old man like me shouldn't be out in the cold like this.” David chuckled. Frank hugged his jacket closer scrunching up as he followed David to a door that led inside to an apartment complex. Malik followed just behind as they descended two flights of stairs arriving at a dark wood door. David mumbled under his breath while typing in the code, “Oh,...4...5..1.” Beep beep beep. He pushed the door open and guided his guests inside. “Welcome Frank to your new home! Sally, play some music for us.” An A.I. voice came on softly, “Certainly.” A calm and slow jazz played quietly as David pulled out the twin vintage wines and scrounged around for glasses. “My /what/?” Frank stood there dumbfounded as David handed a glass to him and Malik. “A real place to live in, son.” He struggled to open the bottle. “Because,” Malik butted in, “ living in an old torn apart school with the roof nearly falling on your head is not good for our favourite handsome hacker.” She changed her tone at the end as if speaking to a cute baby. Malik quickly pinched his cheek and Frank just as quickly moved his head away. Trouble is brewing as David is still trying to open the bottle. “Frank, don't play this game with me. Just let me pinch your cheek!” Moving even quicker than before, she managed to graze him as he took a few steps back. “Malik please, you should know that's never going to w-” There was a loud pop and a shout of approval that came from David. “I got the slick thing to open! Now we can toast.” He poured each of them a fizzling glass as they clanked together. “To the New Years!” “To- how am I going to pay rent?” The question Frank meant to ask earlier but got distracted by Malik. “The first three months have been cleared for you, so you either have to find better freelance jobs or you could work for TF-29 that is deployed here in Detroit.” David suggested as he handed Frank some official looking papers. “These should help with nailing you that job.” Frank set them under a brighter light in the living room to get a better look at them. “I... don't know what to say…,” He spoke quietly, “Tch, how cliché” Malik noticed that Frank was choking up and on the verge of tears. “Welcome home you nerd,” she slugged an arm around Pritchard, “And to a new beginning!” Malik cheered as they all raised their glasses and drank. “David, this is sparkling grape juice.” Malik teased. “I forgot my glasses when I went to the store! All of the labels were blurry.” Suddenly Frank started bawling and sat himself on the bare couch. “Aw Frank! You spilt some of your sparkling grape juice!” Malik ushered over to him and gave him a huge bear hug and wiped some of his tears away. He rubbed his face with his off-white sweater and in between sobs he whispered, “Thank you guys... so much.” “Anything to help an old colleague and friend, Frank. Now let's finish off this kid's liquor before it goes all flat.” “I'm going out to get some real New Year's drinks guys. I'll be back in a few and Frank,” he briefly looks up at Malik, “don't get your sweater soaked.” She winked goodbye as she set off to the nearest store that sold wine. “Now here's some real spirits! Thank you Malik!” David said as he walked out to the patio where Frank sat looking at the fireworks that have gone off early. When the digital clock twitched to twelve they all cheered and filled their wine glasses as an army of fireworks went off. "Happy New Year's," Frank paused to hiccup, "I love you both so much." "I'm cutting you off. We don't need a sobbing AND drunk Pritchard." Malik takes his glass away and sets it far, far, away. "Aww." He hangs his head and fakes some sniffles, "I drank the last of the wine anyways." He turns his head to the noise across the street of some other people cheering and lighting off whizzers and poppers. Malik moves her arms over Frank and David's shoulders and hugs them close. David is half asleep and Frank is genuinely smiling. "You definitely need smile more often. Such a cutie" Frank ends up falling asleep in his new real bed with real matresses and pillows and for once gets a good night rest of sleep. Malik drops David off back at his flat and heads home herself to celebrate in her own time.