A/N: (long note, feel free to skip) About a month or so ago, I was doing practice drabbles with this lovely woman sometimes called Mental or Betsy or Trevvy. I don't even remember how I came about one I did in response to her prompt, I just remember doing it. Well, she kinda loved it or something, and kinda made a sorta-flippant remark that she wanted the backstory on it. I made an equally flippant one that I'd make it her Christmas present.

Turns out, that was the best thing I could have ever done. It's been completely unreal writing this story. Probably the best writing experience of my life so far. Never before had I met characters so vibrant and demanding and bossy and vital and pushy and sure of themselves and unwilling to hear me out, let alone do a single thing I asked or suggested. They didn't just take over and run away from me like some others have before, they took complete control. And made it perfectly clear that I was only the pen to tell their story, because their story would be told. Their way or their way. No my way.

For this, I can't thank you enough, my dearest Trevvy. The rest of your gift-meaning a gooey love note cause I couldn't resist-I'mma email to you.

I could not have done this without hyacinthgirl18. She's been my cheerleader and rock and encourager. She knows I love her.

Disclaimer: SMeyer owns the names and appearances. I own all the rest. Or, excuse me, the two stars of this own the rest. *eyeroll*

Original prompt that inspired this following drabble, and then story - http:/bit[.]ly/g44iCl

Was it wrong to be in love with an article of clothing?

Because, really, I was fairly certain (or as certain as fairly was) that I wasn't in love with him.

He was rude, disgusting—in the manner of hocking loogies wherever and whenever fancy struck him—and stared at my rack too often.

And yet, when he wore that damn hat, I swooned like housewives over George Clooney.

Alright, fine. I did more than just swoon. I fucked him senseless.

BUT IT WAS THE HAT'S FAULT.

If he didn't wear that hat, I wouldn't fuck him.

I suspected he knew this.

A/N: This'll be posted in chapters. Probably every-other-day, cause I'm fail like that.