#A Few Easy Steps: How to Host Thanksgiving

[firstdegreefangirl]

Gotta Leave Us Where We Left It

Tim drops a jar of pasta sauce – meat and cheese – in the shopping cart and reaches forward to put the garlic and herb variety back on the shelf, having made his decision. He’s looking at the shopping list in the front of the basket, Lucy’s neat handwriting outlining everything they’ll need for the dinner party she’s finally convinced him to host for all of their friends next weekend.

He’s lost to his own thoughts, trying to decide if Lucy will notice that he grabbed fresh thyme instead of the oregano that she asked for, in an effort to avoid stopping at a third grocery store on his way home. She probably will, but it won’t stop him from trying. Maybe he’ll be able to talk her into going with him for the next grocery run; it’s always more fun to do his shopping with a sidekick.

He recoils when his knuckles brush up against someone’s hand, narrowly manages to avoid dropping the jar and splattering pasta sauce all over his feet.

“Sorry, go ahead,” he mutters, at the same time as the other person speaks.

“Oh, my bad, I didn’t mean to – Tim?”

He looks up when she calls him by his name, and his heart skips a beat, then starts pounding in his chest.

“Isabel?”

They blink at each other for a long moment, both seemingly stunned into silence. He hasn’t seen her in close to three years, since the day they finalized the divorce paperwork and parted ways on the steps of the LA County courthouse. So much has changed since then; somedays it feels like he’s an entirely different person than he was when he knew her.

“You look … good,” she hedges, when neither of them say anything else.

“So do you,” Tim echoes automatically, before he actually looks at her. But then he does, looks her up and down, and he realizes that he means it. She’s radiant again, like she used to be before …

Before.

The light is back in her eyes, and her face is filled out again, not sallow and sunken in like it was during the worst days of her addiction. Her hands are steady, and her smile reaches her eyes. Her clothes fit nicely, and she fills them out well.

She looks like the woman he fell in love with, all those years ago.

He can still see her now, almost two decades younger, locking eyes with him for the first time across the classroom in academy. They'd both felt the spark, like the jolt from a Taser, and within the month, she’d created a space for herself in the living room of his tiny apartment. Every day they’d spent together felt like the best of his life, natural and easy and comfortable, with fireworks in all the right places.

And then it had all fallen apart. His wife had stopped coming home, first for a couple nights at a time, then at all, until he hadn’t seen her in close to a year. He’d slept alone, in their bed most nights, save for a few he spent on the couch when the hurt and worry were too much for him to bear.

He tries not to begrudge her those last years, knows that addiction isn’t the addict’s fault, that she was sick, she wasn’t trying to hurt him. Some days, that’s easier to do than others, but at the very least, he doesn’t want the ending of his marriage to spoil the good years they had together.

And there were good years, many more of them than the bad ones. Back then, even when things were hard, they worked through them together. He remembers nights sitting up together on the couch, hashing through which in-laws they were visiting for Thanksgiving, negotiating and bickering and compromising until they’d reached a solution, how even their fights had been almost as much fun as making up after.

He’s thinking about the good times, now, looking at her smile, how it still quirks up further on one side than the other. There’s a stack of albums at home, boxed away in the basement, not meant to be on display, but still welcome in his new life. He thumbs through them every so often, but nothing about their past could have prepared him for this onslaught of memories, bittersweet images of the good years layered with flashes of the insurmountable pain that drove them apart.

He looks at her now, standing across the aisle from him, and a decade and a half melts away.

Read the rest on ao3 here!

[merzelifestyle]

Chinoiserie Blue and White with a Pop of Autumn: A Stunning Tablescape for Fall

Chinoiserie is a timeless style that can be used to decorate any room in your home, but it is especially well-suited for the fall season. The classic blue and white color scheme is elegant and sophisticated, while the intricate patterns add a touch of whimsy.

To create a stunning fall tablescape using chinoiserie, add a pop of autumn color with natural elements such as fall flowers, pumpkins, gourds, and berries.

Here are a few tips for creating a chinoiserie blue and white tablescape with a pop of autumn:

Start with a neutral base. A white tablecloth or runner highlights the blue and white chinoiserie elements. I chose blue and white as base colors, using my chinoiserie vase as my inspiration.

Using this lovely salmon and white fabric, I made a runner to add color to my tablescape. The fabric is not too vibrant and still adds color and visual interest.

Add other autumn colors with natural elements: Place pumpkins, gourds, and berries in bowls and vases along the table’s center. You can also add sprigs of fall foliage to each place setting.

.These are all the lovely colors I wanted for this table. As I design a table, I generally add items and then remove them as I start to get a theme going. This was my work in process.

Use chinoiserie blue and white vases or dishes. This will create a cohesive look for your tablescape.

I chose these beautiful French mini blue tureens as additional blue that I could bring to the place setting. I layered using white and blue. The chocolate was added as a treat for everyone who sat at my table and had additional color.

I have been collecting these Hot Skwash pumpkins for a while now and love to bring them out for Thanksgiving. They add a beautiful velvet texture to the table that I love. I mix them with natural elements like real pumpkins and flowers.

Add touches of gold or silver. Gold and silver will add a touch of luxury to your tablescape. You can use gold or silver chargers, placemats, or flatware. I chose to add my sterling silver flatware.

Centerpiece: Place a blue and white chinoiserie vase in the center of the table. Fill the vase with a mix of autumn foliage, pumpkins, gourds, and berries. These centerpieces were removed before dining since they were a bit large. I place them on my sideboard as a decoration, still keeping all the pumpkins on the table for accents.

A chinoiserie blue and white with a pop of autumn tablescape is a stunning way to celebrate the fall season. The classic blue and white color scheme is elegant and sophisticated, while the intricate patterns add a touch of whimsy. Add a pop of autumn color with natural elements such as pumpkins, gourds, and berries to create this look. You can also add touches of gold or silver to add a touch of luxury. With some planning, you can create a stylish and inviting tablescape.

To learn more about this table and how to host a Thanksgiving dinner, go to my blog, A Few Easy Steps: Hosting Thanksgiving Dinner.

As with everything I post on my blogs, please feel free to comment, or if you have any questions, please either ask on my blog or email me through my contact page. I welcome it anytime!

"May your home be a place where friends meet, family gathers, and love grows. "  -- Anonymous

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Happy Entertaining!

Mary

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[beauvibaby]

Anthony Beauvillier – First Christmas

• living across the hall from Anthony Beauvillier has its perks, and thanksgiving is where it all changes •

word count: 8.6k

warnings: brief mention of death, and like two innuendos of sex (barely)

You returned from the grocery store, having an odd pep in your step despite the chaos you had just endured to get your hands on this turkey for thanksgiving in just a few short days. You looked around your apartment, sure, you had some harvest decor up, but with the way it was already so chilly outside, and the hallmark Christmas movies being a nightly routine of yours. You decided you wanted to decorate, sure, it was a little early, but you wanted the extra cheer, and you knew your family would love it when they came over for thanksgiving, your first year hosting–come to think of it, maybe you were decorating to ignore the stress of that responsibility. So you changed into some comfier clothes, slipping your fuzzy slippers on and hauling your decor out of the closet, only a few bins since it was a relatively small apartment, but your tree was your prized possession. It looked like it came out of a catalog, but still felt homey, and you adored that. You quickly changed out the wreath on the outside of the front door, you heard the elevator open as you slid the fall colored wreath off, and began struggling to get the large Christmas wreath to stay on the hook, you heard a couple of pairs of feet walking down the hall, you stole a glance.

“Hi, Anthony.” You smiled softly, he was a nice enough neighbor, always polite, sometimes he could be a little flirty, but you always brushed it off, knowing his status, you attributed it to him being able to get whatever girl he wants. “Hi, Y/N.” He responded with a small wave, holding in a chuckle as he and his friend, Mat, you think, watched you struggle. “I think that wreath is a little too big, don’t you?” Anthony finally cracked, grabbing the fall one from you, “besides, isn’t it a little early to decorate?” He added, you finally found the tie you’d weaved into the wreath and secured it to the hook. “One, it is not too big, and two, it is never too early to decorate for Christmas.” You gasped, taking the fall wreath back from him, crossing your arms dramatically, with a huff. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a tree to put up.” You smiled dramatically shutting the door, cringing when you heard the wreath fall on to the ground. A soft knock following, you looked out the peephole and saw Anthony holding it with a teasing smile. “Just put it on the hook, Anthony!” You shouted through the door, “for the last time, call me, Tito!” He groaned, putting the wreath on the hook and walking off with his friend.

***

“Mom!” You gasped into the phone the second she answered, “well happy thanksgiving to you too.” She giggled, “my oven won’t turn on!” You groaned, it was time for you to be putting the turkey in the oven, along with the green bean casserole, “is it the cooktop too? Or just the actual oven?” Your mom questioned, you scrambled to turn the burners on, watching as they glowed bright red emitting the heat instantly. “Just the oven.” You sniffled in annoyance, why couldn’t this just go right. “Oh honey, don’t cry, we can just get takeout.” She assured you, “my first time hosting and it was a huge fail.” You groaned, before an idea popped into your head, a crazy idea–but an idea nonetheless. “I’ll call you back, mom, I have an idea!” You rushed to hang up the phone. Quickly, you dabbed the tears from your eyes and smoothed out your shirt before confidently walking across the hall to the door you’d only knocked on once, and that was to ask him to keep it down. You lifted your hand and hesitated, “ok, here goes nothing.” You whispered before giving three soft knocks, you heard movement from inside, followed by the lock turning. “Y/N?” Anthony cocked his head to the side, sweatpants and a t-shirt covering his frame. “Uh, hi.” You spoke nervously, he smiled at your clearly nervous demeanor, “everything ok?” He questioned, “I thought your family was coming over today?” He added, shocking you that he even remembered that you told him that nearly two weeks ago. “Oh-uh-they are, but I have a little problem.” You rocked on your feet, he motioned for you to continue, as he leaned against the door frame. “My oven won’t turn on.” You blurted, he stared blankly at you, not picking up on what you were insinuating. “Can I use your oven? If you don’t have any plans, and you’re more than welcome to join us, it’s the least I could do, really.” You rambled, not daring to meet his eyes, he let out a soft laugh. “I hope you don’t make a dry turkey.” He opened the door, silently inviting you in. “Oh, thank you, thank you!” You cheered, resisting the urge to hug him. “You just saved my thanksgiving.” You sighed in relief, rushing over to your apartment as he laughed boyishly at your excitement. You came back with a turkey, already bagged and ready to cook, easily walking into his kitchen as his apartment mirrored yours.

You quickly set his oven to preheat to the correct temperature, taking the chance to look around, his apartment was a lot cleaner than you figured a bachelor nhl player would keep it. “Did you need any help? I’m no chef, but I think I can be of some use.” He laughed approaching you, “no, I’ve got it, thank you, again, so much.” You sighed, smiling at him. “I don’t want to impose, you know, I don’t have to join you.” He laughed a little nervously. Your eyes shot up at him, “you wouldn’t be imposing! It’s the least I could do, you’re lending me your kitchen for goodness sakes.” You gasped, feeling your phone buzz in your pocket, your mom asking if you figured anything out. You quickly told her you got it under control, and that your neighbor would be joining you, to which she simply sent a thumbs up. “So who am I then? The crazy neighbor next door that let a girl use his kitchen to cook? That’s a long title to introduce.” Anthony quipped, sitting on the edge of his counter, legs dangling in front of the cabinet. “No, you’re Tito, the nice guy across the hall.” You shrugged, missing the way his lips turned up at the use of his nickname. “Wow, you can actually listen.” He joked, you blushed under his gaze, “don’t get used to it, you're doing me a favor, I figured I’d use your nickname for once.” You teased lightly, watching the way he threw his head back in laughter. “Oh my god, you didn’t have any plans did you?” The thought suddenly hit you, he shook his head, “no, I’m off today, figured I’d be lazy, but who am I to turn down good food.” He spoke softly, watching as guilt flashed in your eyes, “don’t worry about it, Y/N. It’ll be fun, I’ve never met a girls parents that I wasn’t dating.” He joked, earning an eye roll from you. “Who’s coming?” He tilted his head to the side again, asking the question with a small hint of concern, for some reason unknown to him, he wanted to leave a good impression, even if he just was ‘Tito the nice guy across the hall’.

You let out a nervous laugh, “my mom, dad, grandma, uncle, my brother, sister in law and two nieces.” With every name you listed off his eyes grew wider, “oh.” He laughed softly, at least I’m good with kids, he thought to himself. Surely that would be an easy way to impress your family. “Oh, and you should know, my grandma doesn’t really speak English.” You added, grimacing when his face fell, “she speaks Italian, but she’ll try to talk in English for you.” You explained, nervously shrugging, the oven finally being warm enough for the turkey, you slid it in, setting a timer on the oven and your phone, “um, so I’ll just come back when it’s time to put the green beans in?” You asked, shifting awkwardly. “I’ll leave the door unlocked for you.” Tito smiled, “thank you, Tito.” You responded, walking past him as you felt his eyes on you, “anytime, Y/N.”

Two hours later and here you were walking into his apartment with a casserole dish full of green beans, you didn’t see him in the living room, so you assumed he was in his room, you simply went to the oven, adding the green beans to the lower rack, smiling at how well the turkey was cooking, your family would be here in about an hour, and you had the mashed potatoes, gravy and anything else ready to be cooked on your stovetop. You were setting a new timer when you heard footsteps, Tito standing frozen in the hallway, a towel wrapped low around his hips. “Oh, I’m sorry!” You gasped looking away when you eyed him for too long. “It’s ok, sorry, I didn’t know you were out here.” He apologized, laughing nervously as he turned, being sure to hold his towel tightly in place, you stole a glance as he rushed back down the hall, you knew he was attractive, but he was even more so than you thought. He came back out a moment later with jeans on as he buttoned up a short sleeve shirt, his chain laying against his chest, you bit your lip at the sight before coming to your senses. “You clean up nice, Beauvillier.” You teased, watching as his eyes snapped up at the use of his last name. He smirked, “so you did look me up.” He pointed out, watching as you blushed bright red under his gaze. “Me? No, I would never.” You joked, “listen, I had to make sure my new neighbor wasn’t a serial killer.” You defended, earning a deep chuckle from him, something that was quickly becoming your new favorite sound. “I thought you weren’t a hockey fan.” He reminded you, this time instead of smirking when you blushed, he smiled, if he had even a part of the reason why you were suddenly watching hockey, it made him happy. “I watch your games, that’s it.” You admitted, “really?” He gasped, walking towards the kitchen, peeking through the window on the oven door, “looks good.” He added, smoothing out his shirt. He looked over your outfit, “is the dress code sweatpants?” He teased, only then did you realize you were still in your house clothes. “No,” you paused to laugh, “I’m going to go get ready now, I’ll be back for those when the timer goes off!” You called already making your way out the door. “Have fun!” Tito called in response as you shut his front door, a smile lingering on his face.

The timer on your phone went off and you silently cursed as you were trying to get the zipper up on the simple burgundy dress you put on, of course, it was just family there was no reason to dress up, but it was a tradition really, all of you always put on something at least a little nicer. You turned the timer off on your phone and rushed across the hall, walking right in, like this was a normal occurrence, Tito was in the kitchen pulling the pans out of the oven for you. “Thank you.” You sighed in relief, afraid the green beans would’ve started to burn by now, he finally looked over at you, his eyes lingering on the dress. “Yeah-“ he cleared his throat, “yeah no problem.” He stood up straight, shutting the oven door. “Uh, do you mind zipping this for me?” You asked sheepishly, sweeping your hair over one shoulder, he nodded and you turned your back to him, feeling goosebumps litter your skin as he pulled the zipper up slowly, his breath fanning over the back of your neck. “There you go.” He whispered, hesitating to step away, but so did you, finally you heard commotion out in the hall and realized your family must be outside your door, “thank you.” You cleared your throat, all but jumping away from him. You each grabbed pot holders and began making your way to the door, somehow you opened it with your elbow, smiling at your family that was huddled around the door. “It’s open, go on in.” You encouraged them, seeing the way they looked at Tito behind you. They pushed open the door to your apartment, your nieces instantly rushing to the couch where they knew you’d have a Christmas movie set up for them to watch, your dad held the door open for everyone as you filed in, “thanks.” You sighed, rushing to the kitchen to set down the green beans, Tito right behind you, desperate to set down the turkey that was growing heavier by the second.

You scrambled around to introduce everyone to Anthony, to which he kept saying, “call me Tito.” And everyone chuckled, your grandma whispered to you, once she heard his name, asking if he was Italian, you giggled and told her no. She grumbled, making her way to her seat but still being kind nonetheless.

Your dad helped you cut the turkey, asking question after question about Tito, “I’m not dating him, stop it. He just let me use his oven.” You snapped lightly, your dad nudged you with his shoulder, “well then don’t get so defensive.” He teased, washing his hands after finally getting the turkey carved.

You looked out into the living room, seeing your brother and Tito talking like they were the best of friends, your nieces occasionally walking up to him and asking something. You smiled at the sight, your mother catching your gaze, “he’s cute.” She commented, you shot her a look, “what? I’m just making a statement.” She put her hands up in defense, laughing when you sighed, knowing she was implying more than that. “Time to eat!” You called, everyone forming a line through the kitchen, you laughed at the site, saving yourself for last. You grabbed a plate and stood behind your grandma, Anthony glanced and saw the two of you, he frowned and moved behind you. “What are you doing? You can go before me.” You whispered, he shook his head, “ladies first.” He mumbled, placing a hand on your back when you went to move around him. “Are you sure?” You questioned, moving forward as your grandma did, “positive.” He whispered, watching as your grandma turned to the two of you. “Y/N, puoi fare il mio piatto, tesoro? Sono stanco.”(can you make my plate, sweetheart? I’m tired.) She asked solemnly, “si, vai a sederti, un po 'di tutto?” (Yes, go sit, a little of everything?) you responded, setting your plate down and taking the one from her, she nodded, hobbling over to the table with her cane. You frowned to yourself, “sorry, let me just make her plate real quick.” You apologized to Tito, he shook his head, “no rush.” He smiled softly, going as far as to take her plate from you and bring it to her when you were done, so you could make your own.

You smiled when he returned, “thank you, you didn’t have to.” You whispered, again, he placed a hand on your back, this time you felt his thumb move back and forth for a moment, “it’s ok, I don’t mind.” He assured you, patiently waiting until you were done to make his plate and join everyone at the table, of course, the only seat being open was next to you. Dinner went on perfectly, everyone having a good time and chatting, you definitely took notice to how much your nieces liked Tito, the sight along warming your heart. By the time the night was over, you’d had a couple glasses of wine, your face shaded pink from the alcohol, and your family was making their way out while Tito lingered behind, “let me help you clean up.” He insisted, “no!” You refused, he’d done to much already. “Y/N.” He deadpanned, “Anthony.” You mimicked, crossing your arms over your chest. “You’ve done too much, I can’t let you do this.” You added, pushing him out of your kitchen, he chuckled, letting you think you were actually moving him, when we all know he was just walking himself. “You’re very stubborn.” He pointed out when you reached your doorway. You rolled your eyes, hesitating for a moment, you pushed up on your toes, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, “thank you, Tito. It was nice having you over.” You whispered, leaning away, but still staying close to his face, god, how he wanted to kiss your wine stained lips, and stay with you even if it meant washing dishes together, he just found you contagious–and he wanted more. But he didn’t kiss your lips, he didn’t want to scare you off, he pressed a quick kiss to your forehead, your eyes fluttered shut at the delicate action, you wanted to melt into his arms and tell him to never stop. “Goodnight, Y/N.” He mumbled, and just like that he was back across the hall in his own apartment, leaving you there to touch your forehead, shocked that he had just done that, little did you know he was doing the same to where your leftover lipstick stained his cheek.

***

It was the weekend after thanksgiving and you were anxiously waiting for it to be time for the islanders game, despite there still being a couple of hours until then, there was a soft knock on your door and you walked over, looking through the peephole but seeing no one, you opened the door, looking to see if you’d gotten a package and you couldn’t help but laugh as you saw an islanders jersey folded on your door mat, a note on top of it, what you didn’t know was Tito was watching you through the peephole of his apartment door. A smile covering his face as you bent down to grab the material, hugging it to your body as you read the note,

“Hopefully this fuels on your new hockey obsession!”

You let out a genuine laugh, glancing over at his door, shaking your head with a laugh, you unfolded the jersey, smile widening when you saw his name sprawled across the back.

You changed into it when you got inside, smiling at how the material was baggy on your frame, you laughed softly, taking a mirror photo, daring maybe, but you had gotten his number after thanksgiving, so you figured, why not use it. You sent the photo,

“It fits like a glove–a very oversized baggy glove”

He read the message nearly instantly, making your heart race,

“I think it looks better on you than it does on me”

“Are you flirting with me, Tito?”

His response was quick,

“So you finally noticed.”

“Good luck tonight! I’ll be rooting for you”

You locked your phone after you sent your response, looking up in your mirror to see your red cheeks looking back at you. A fluttering feeling in your stomach at the thought of him even being remotely interested in you. Making your way into the kitchen, a thought popped into your headed, you had already planned on doing some baking, why not make a few extra for the cute guy across the hall, you laughed to yourself but started your adventure, setting aside a mix of cookies for him, you’d bring them and leave them on his doorstep when the game was over, so they wouldn’t be sitting out there for too long. You changed the TV to the hockey channel, listening to them talk about what was to come while you baked, your ears perking up everytime they mentioned Anthony. The time flew and before you knew it the game was over, the islanders winning by only one point, but it was still a win, you grabbed the container, sticking a post it note to the top,

“I’m free on Friday.”

Daring, most definitely, but you felt bold, a connection between the two of you that you thought only happened in movies. You set the tin on his doormat, knowing he wasn’t home yet, but still you smiled, making your way back home and giving one last glance to the Christmas themed container sitting there.

When you woke up, you were surprised to see two messages from Tito, a smile forcing its way onto your face.

“I’ll pick you up at five on Friday, dress warm”

“Holy shit, Y/N, these cookies are amazing!”

You laughed at his second message,

“See you then!”

A giddy feeling filling your stomach at the thought of what you would be doing Friday.

***

Friday came quicker than you thought it would, which was a win in your book, you were finishing up the laces on your boots when Anthony knocked on your door. You stood up, giving yourself one more look in the mirror, your outfit was nothing special, skinny jeans, a pretty blouse that was currently being covered by your thick coat, a blush scarf around your neck, and the boots with a small heel on them, but you looked good. You opened the door, smiling at Anthony, “hi.” You spoke, watching him give you a once over, “hi.” He repeated, pulling flowers out from behind his back, “oh, they’re so pretty!” You gasped, taking them from his outstretched hand, “thank you.” You added as he followed you inside as you went to put them in a vase before you left. “Of course.” He grinned, “you look beautiful.” He added, you glanced down at your outfit and back at him, seeing nothing but sincerity in his eyes, “you clean up pretty well yourself.” You laughed, looking at his dark jeans and long tan coat, a black scarf around his neck. “I try.” He posed, making you laugh when you glanced over at him. “Where are we going?” You questioned, setting the vase on the counter, flipping the lights off as you made your way towards him. “It’s a surprise.” He retorted, following behind you, “oooh, a surprise.” You smiled at him, “it’s going to be kind of a long car ride though, I hope you don’t mind.” He suddenly looked nervous, “that’s ok, I can make small talk with you, Tito.” You teased softly, not feeling nervous for this date at all, it was easy to be around him.

The car ride was long, but you quickly figured out you were going into the city, a smile gracing your face when you found out why, “you didn’t.” You gasped as the car pulled to a stop at the side of the road, the Rockefeller tree just to the left of you, “I did.” He smiled happily, following you as you rushed to climb out of the car, “Anthony, this is too much. You didn’t have to bring me all the way out here.” You suddenly felt guilty as he paid for the ride, that couldn’t have been cheap. “Shush, I wanted to, I wanted it to be special.” He mumbled sheepishly, you hugged your coat tighter to yourself, smiling up at him. “I love it.” You assured him, pulling your gloves on your hands, him doing the same before making the move to lace your fingers together, you didn’t hesitate to do it, smiling at the way your hand fit in his. “I figured we could go skating, and maybe grab something to eat if you’re hungry.” He explained, watching the way your eyes lit up as you looked at the giant tree, you nodded wordlessly, “yes, yeah, whatever you want to do.” You breathed out, eyes focused on the tree in front of you, “I haven’t been able to come see this in years.” You added, glancing over at him to find him staring right at you, “it’s beautiful, isn’t it?” You asked, looking back to the tree, and seeing the people down below skating around the rink, “it’s gorgeous.” He answered, barely looking at the tree before stepping closer to you. “I should tell you now, I’m definitely not the best skater.” You laughed nervously, watching as a couple down on the ice struggled to skate together. “That’s ok, I think I can manage.” He joked, laughing when you rolled your eyes, “don’t be a show off, it’s not attractive.” You retorted, smiling when he squeezed your hand a little tighter as a brush of wind came through, your hair flipping in front of your face. He pushed it back, leaving his hand in your cheek for a minute, “what do you say? You gonna show me those skating skills.” He spoke, moving his hand away, you shivered at the loss of contact, “yeah.” You whispered, allowing him to lead the way.

“Anthony!” You shrieked when he dropped your hand as you got on the ice, “I’m right here.” He laughed, skating backwards slowly in front of you, “stop.” You pouted, reaching out for his hands as you struggled to catch your footing, it’s been a long time since you’d done this. “I won’t let you fall.” He assured you, grabbing your hands as you looked panicked. “I got you.” He added, meeting your eyes, the smile on his face being contagious as you looked at him. “Promise?” You teased, slowly pushing off on your skates, he easily met your pace, glancing behind him every once in a while. “Promise.” He spoke sincerely, rubbing his thumbs over the tops of your hands as you slowly became more confident in your abilities. “How embarrassing, I’m on a date with Long Island royalty and I can barely skate.” You joked, he shook his head, releasing one of your hands and moving to be beside you, “I’m not royalty, and you’re doing good babe.” The word fell from his mouth, he looked away in embarrassment. “Thanks.” You giggled, easing his nerves, gripping him harder when you came up to the curve, he laughed, easily guiding you, and he was right, he didn’t let you fall once. On the ice at least.

You were walking down the sidewalk, to a little restaurant on the corner, when your boot hit a patch of icy snow, your foot swinging up and out from under you, Anthony’s hold on your hand not doing much but keeping you from fully smacking your head on the sidewalk. You yelped as your butt landed hard on the cement, your shoulders following but thankfully keeping your head up. “Shit, Y/N, are you ok?” Anthony was kneeling beside you instantly, helping you sit up, “are you ok?” He asked again, brushing your arms off, you nodded stifling back a laugh at his concern, also using it to hide the pain you were feeling on your butt. “Ouch,” you whispered, standing up with his help, brushing off your legs, “yeah, I’m fine.” You spoke, catching his concerned gaze. “I’m sorry, oh my god.” He laughed nervously, you shrugged, “it’s not your fault.” You assured him, walking off the pain, laughing when he walked a lot closer to you this time. “Do you still want to go eat? I can just take you home.” He rushed, seeing the small limp in your walk, “no, no, I want to go eat, don’t worry.” You turned to him, resting a hand on his chest, “I’m ok, promise.” You whispered, the wind coming through again, blowing his scarf up a little, covering his jaw, you pushed it down, letting your hand linger there. You pushed yourself up, his hands going to your waist to steady you as he brushed his lips against yours. “Kiss me.” You breathed out, his lips on yours a second later, he moved one of his hands to your cheek, rubbing it affectionately, sighing into the kiss. You finally pulled away to breathe, a smile on your face, your eyes opening slowly to find him already smiling down at you. “So, food?” He asked, watching as you tipped your head back in laughter, you couldn’t help but steal another quick kiss, “food, but I’m paying.” You demanded, he’d already paid for so much, there was no way you were letting him pay for food too. “What? No!” He gasped, walking beside you, an arm over your shoulders, “no I’m paying.” He deadpanned, “you paid for skating, and the ride up here.” You reminded him, and he looked at you with raised brows, “so?” He quipped, “that’s too much!” You whined, looking up at him with a pout, “no it’s not!” He groaned, “just let me be a gentleman.” He demanded, teasingly rolling his eyes at you.

“Fine, then I’m paying for the next date.” You gave in, and he smiled at you, “so you’re saying there will be another date?” He teased, you nodded, “at least so I can pay for it.” You giggled, blushing at his next response, “oh, I think there will be a lot more than just two dates.”

***

You stepped out of the elevator as it dinged, of course, of course Tito had to be getting ready for a game right now, you wiped at the tears on your face, wishing you could see your boyfriend of only a couple of weeks, the two of you being inseparable whenever you were both not working, thankfully your schedule was pretty set in stone so you always knew when you’d be off. You took a shaky breath as you struggled to unlock your front door, mind racing at what just happened, your grandma going to the hospital for a simple nose bleed, unable to get it to stop, to now, her being moved into a hospice center because her heart was failing. It all happened so quick, you’d spent the whole day by her side, calling out of work the second your mom called and told you what happened. You finally got the key in your door, letting the tears fall freely again, your phone ringing in your pocket, you were afraid to check it. You shakily pulled it out, unsure if you should be relieved or nervous that Tito was calling you. They were about to play the rangers, and you knew it was a big deal, but you couldn’t make it to the game, you had completely forgotten that he was going to call you beforehand.

“Hello?” You tried to speak evenly into the phone, “hi, baby.” Tito breathed out, his nerves melting away as he heard your voice, the pet names came easy for him, the second you two decided that you were really going to do this, he hardly used your name anymore. You were a little slow to use them on him, not used to having a guy that adored you that much. “Are you getting ready for the game?” You asked, thankful that he hadn’t caught on to your slightly rough voice. “Yes, I just wanted to call you first. You’re going to watch right?” He asked jokingly, of course you were going to watch. “Of course I am, I’m going to get my jersey right now.” You laughed softly, enjoying the soothing sound of his voice. “Will you be home tonight?” You asked, thinking maybe you might try and stay up to see him. “Yeah, I shouldn’t be too late, we’ll be coming home right after.” He explained shortly, you heard some people talking in the background. “I’ve gotta go, I’ll talk to you later.” He spoke softly, “good luck, babe.” You mumbled, those words being the best thing he’d heard all day. “Thank you.” And with that, you hung up the phone.

You showered the stress of your day away, slipping into the jersey and a pair of leggings, settling in on your couch, flipping to the channel for the game, indulging in a bowl of ice cream as it started. Your phone lit up, once again, except this time it was your mom, and not Tito, your breathing hitched, you waited until the last second to answer the call. “Hi, mom.” You whispered, her muffled sniffles telling you all you need to know. “I’m sorry.” You sighed, letting your own tears fall silently, “do you want me to come back to the city?” You asked her, having just made the exhausting trip back out here. “No, you need to rest, honey. I’ll call you in the morning with the details.” She sighed, your father talking to her in the background, “I love you.” She added, “I love you too mom.” You mumbled, hanging up the phone, looking up to the TV screen as the second period began, you curled further into the couch, watching the game, but not really watching as your mind wandered.

When the game finished, you were still wide awake, and you knew sleep wouldn’t be coming over you anytime soon. So you did what popped into your mind, you slipped on some fuzzy Christmas socks, and went and sat in front of Tito’s door, resting your head on your arms that held your knees tucked up under your chin. You knew it would still be an hour or so until he was home, but you didn’t care, you wanted–you needed to see him. But what you didn’t expect was that you’d end up getting hit with exhaustion as you sat leaning against the door, you buried your face in your arms, hair falling to the side.

When Tito stepped off the elevator, he had his eyes on his phone, concerned as you hadn’t answered his texts, then he looked over at his door, stopping in his tracks as he saw you asleep, a pout being pushed on your lips from how you were laying against your arms. He could tell you had been crying, he slipped his phone back into his pocket, taking a few large steps over to you, he unlocked his door before waking you up. He kneeled on the ground in front of you, running a hand through your hair. “Y/N?” He spoke softly, not wanting to scare you. “Baby.” He spoke again, gently placing a hand on your shoulder, you stirred, wincing as you lifted your head, a kink in your neck from sleeping like that. “Tito?” You croaked out, a fresh set of tears brimming, “hey, shh, what’s wrong?” He murmured, cupping your cheeks. “My grandma.” You sniffled, looking at him with wide eyes, his face fell. “I’m sorry.” He whispered, knowing now wasn’t the time to ask questions, if you wanted to talk about it, you would. “Can I come inside?” You mumbled, leaning into his hands as he wiped under your eyes, “of course you can.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead before helping you to your feet. He pushed his door open, holding it in place for you to step inside, “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to greet you like this.” You sighed, wiping at your eyes, he shook his head, pulling you in for a hug. “Don’t apologize, it’s alright.” He shushed you, running a hand over your hair, “did you want to stay here tonight?” He offered, “not like that, obviously, unless you want that–if you don’t want to be alone, I don’t know.” He stuttered over his words, you silenced him with a kiss, a hand going into his hair. “Please.” You whimpered, barely pulling away, “please what?” He breathed out, rubbing your back, “please, both.” You pulled him back in, allowing him to guide you to his bedroom.

When you woke up the next morning, you had to take a second to remember what exactly happened, but it all came rushing back when you heard Tito snore softly from behind you. His hand resting on your stomach, arm draped over your side, you didn’t regret what happened at all, but you still felt a little self conscious as you realized you only had on a shirt and underwear. You rolled to face him, smiling at the peaceful look on his face, you reached up to push his hair from his forehead, leaning in closer to him, feeling him squeeze you a little tighter at the action. “Good morning.” He whispered, voice raspy, the tips of his fingers slipping under the shirt to rub circles into your skin. “Good morning.” You repeated, sighing as he pressed a kiss to your temple, “how are you?” He murmured, keeping his eyes on yours, “better.” You answered truthfully, fluttering your eyes shut when nudged your nose with his, kissing you quickly. “I’ve got a question.” He announced, smiling when you hummed, resting your head on his chest as he rolled to his back, “the Islanders have a Christmas event coming up, and I wanted to know if you would go with me?” He sounded nervous, you pressed a chaste kiss to his neck, “of course I’ll go, but isn’t that kind of a big deal to bring me?” You whispered, picking at the sheet hanging over his hips. “I wouldn’t want to bring anyone else.” His words made your heart skip a beat, you sat up, looking at him with a grin. “I’ll need help picking something to wear.” You spoke, making his nerves melt away, “I think I can help with that.” He winked.

***

“Oh–wow, you look, wow.” Tito gasped as you opened your door, the dark emerald dress looking even better than he remembered, “it’s not too much, right?” You questioned, afraid you’d be to over dressed, but that should really be a concern, considering he was in a tuxedo. “No, baby, it’s perfect, you look phenomenal.” He pulled you in for a quick kiss, “thank you, handsome.” You whispered, lacing your hand with his, pulling your coat on, “can you believe Christmas is only a week away!” Tito gasped, watching as your face lit up, “I know, I’m excited!” You cheered, “but I’m nervous to meet your family.” You added, stepping into the elevator, he furrowed his brows, “don’t be nervous, they’ll love you.” He gave you a reassuring squeeze, “don’t add any more pressure, now I’ll be upset if they don’t love me.” You giggled, watching as his skin flushed under your gaze, he just gave you a subtle eye roll and a kiss to your hairline before guiding you to the taxi.

Walking into the event only made you feel further out of place. Tito quickly introduced you to some of the other girls so you at least had someone else to speak with, but you still stayed glued to his side for a while, uneasy about the setting. “Are you alright?” He whispered as you nursed the champagne flute you’d picked up right away, you shot him a smile, “yeah, I’m alright, I’ll go sit with the girls, you go do what you have to do, yeah?” You offered, he hesitated before he nodded, sending you off with a delicate kiss. You took your spot with the other ladies, quickly bonding with Sydney, your personalities meshing instantly. “How long have you known Tito?” She asked, resting her jaw in her hand, “six months?” You answered, doing the math mentally, “yeah, I met him the day I moved in, but we didn’t really start talking until thanksgiving.” You added, watching as she looked at you with wide eyes, “wait, really?” She gaped at you, making you concerned, “is something wrong?” You questioned, glancing behind her as her husband approached. “He’s been talking about you since before thanksgiving, I just assumed you two had been dating this whole time.” She explained, Matt raising his eyebrows from behind her, nodding in agreement. “Oh.” You shifted in your seat, feeling put on the spot, “that’s a good thing, I promise!” Sydney assured you, Matt resting a hand on her shoulder, startling her. “Yeah, he’s totally in love with you.” Matt shrugged, making you choke on your drink, he clearly hadn’t heard the length of your relationship, Sydney elbowed him lightly, whispering in his ear and he went wide eyed. “Oops?” His voice went up an octave, sitting down beside his wife. “I mean it’s fine, right? It’s not like he’s rushing you.” Matt tried to mend the situation but it only made you feel more pressure, like you had to feel the same way right now, and you knew you would in time, the relationship between the two of you building so quickly, it felt like you knew him for years. But knowing he was so seemingly in love with you already, made you nervous, like somehow you’d scare him off. “Excuse me.” You stood up abruptly, needing to get some space, “good going, Matt!” You heard Sydney chastise her husband as you walked off, in search of anywhere that wasn’t crowded with people.

You rounded the corner and spotted a relatively empty hallway, leaning against the wall you let out a deep breath, calming yourself, you stayed like that for a few minutes before deciding to go find Tito before he began to worry. When you walked back towards the table you saw him sitting beside your seat, he didn’t seem nervous at all, so you’re assuming Sydney covered for you. Another deep breath as you approached, putting a smile on your face when you reached them, “hi.” You smiled at your boyfriend, smoothing your dress as you sat down. “Hi, baby.” He rested a hand on your knee under the table, rubbing soothing circles into your skin. Sydney shot you a wink when he wasn’t looking and you let out a breath of relief, the rest of the night going off without a hitch.

***

“It is not funny!” You whined as you were helping Tito decorate his tree last minute, his exact words were “if I don’t have a tree for Christmas my mom just might kill me” you laughed at his dramatics, but you agreed to help, knowing it would be a good time together. “It is funny.” He retorted, helping you pick the garland flakes from your hair, he thought it would be entertaining to pull some off of the extra strands and throw it at you. It’s safe to say you weren’t amused. “I thought you’d like it, Christmas is your favorite holiday after all.” He teased, kissing your pout, laughing when you pulled him back in. “If you keep that up we’ll never finish this tree.” He mumbled against you, his hands sliding down your back. “Ah-ah, no, we have to finish, your parents are coming tomorrow.” You tsked, laughing when he gave you a quick pat anyways, “I didn’t say anything about after.” You reminded him, giving him an incentive to finish decorating. “Oh, it’s on.” He rushed over to what you had deemed his side of the tree, “whoever finishes last has to make dinner.” He smirked, and you just gave him a blank stare, “we both know if you lose you’re just going to order takeout.” You laughed at him, to which he nodded in agreement, pushing his glasses up his nose, smiling at you as you stood on your side of the tree. “Three, two, one!” You counted down, the tree was already lit and you’d already done the garland so now it was only placing ornaments, and you knew you’d beat him at it.

He was sloppily hanging them to fill the gaps in the tree, meanwhile you were taking your time–carefully placing each ornament, the prettiest sides out, and you still finished before him, he looked at you flabbergasted when you stepped back and announced your completion. “How are you? Oh my god.” He looked at your side of the tree, seeing the ornaments perfectly adorning your side of the tree. “How do you do that?” He pouted, pulling you over to his side to help, “I’m gonna go order Chinese.” He mumbled, kissing your cheek, sending you into a fit of giggles as you blended the two sides of the tree together. You heard him talking on the phone, rambling off some numbers from the menu, you giggled to yourself, thinking of how many times he’s called the restaurant. You took a moment, looking at the photo of Anthony and his brother as a child on an ornament, shocked by the amount of sentimental ones he had. You looked around the tree, taking the time now to admire it, your fingers running over the ornaments, you spotted one that was facing the wrong way, you took it off the tree and turned it to face you, gasping softly at the framed ornament of you and Tito from your first date, a picture you’d take in front of the Rockefeller tree before making your way back to your apartment. “That was supposed to be a surprise.” He mumbled, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, “well then you shouldn't have put it on the tree when you know your girlfriend is a perfectionist.” You sighed, leaning into his hold, he hugged you a little tighter, “that’s one of the reasons I-“ his voice dropped off, you glanced back at him, carefully hanging the ornament back on the tree, he stayed frozen in place as you turned to face him.

“Babe, it’s one of the reasons you what?” You whispered, arms wrapping around his neck, playing with the hair on the nape of his neck. “You can say it.” You added after he stayed silent, staring at you intently. “It’s one of the reasons I love you.” He all but breathed out, you tugged him in for a kiss, he sighed in relief, pulling you impossibly closer, “I love you, Anthony.” You mumbled, he rolled his eyes at the use of his name. “I love you, oh god I can finally say it.” He grinned, pulling you along with him to the couch, you laughed as he laid you down on it, “we’ve got food coming, bub.” You laughed, tilting your head to the side as he kissed down your neck. “It’s snowing, they’ll be slow, we’ve got time.” He muttered against you, smiling when you laughed at his words, but you made no effort to stop him.

Christmas Eve was here, and so were Tito’s parents, you could hear them the second you stepped out of your apartment, your stomach twisting into a knot. Your hand lifting to knock on the door, you could hear Tito chuckle from inside, “come in!” He called, exactly what you told him not to do. “Hello!” You spoke loudly into the apartment, pushing the door open, instantly met with Tito’s bright blue eyes looking over from the kitchen, his parents turning from their spot on the stools at the island. You smiled kindly at them, making your way over to them, “hi, I’m Y/N.” You held your hand out for his mother, who scoffed and stood, pulling you into a hug, relief rushing over you at her mind gesture. His dad did the same, “it’s nice to meet you, Y/N. We’ve heard so much about you.” He spoke softly, much like Tito would do sometimes. You walked around to greet your boyfriend quickly, also sticking the wine you brought into the chiller. “All good things, I hope.” You joked, earning a scoff from Tito as he checked on the food he was cooking. “Only good things.” His mom assured, smiling when her son kissed the side of your head in passing. You fell into easy conversation with them, all four of you laughing throughout the day, you were grateful to get this time with them today, considering tomorrow you would be an hour away visiting your own family. Of course, Tito was a little disappointed, but it was all still new to you guys, and you hadn’t had time to plan accordingly, but you swore up and down you’d go straight to his apartment when you got home Christmas night, the two of you saving your gifts for then.

“I’ll be right back!” Tito called to his parents, walking you across the hall, much to your laughter filled dismay. “Wow, look, I made it safely, all thanks to you.” You teased him, he let out a breathy laugh, leaning down to kiss you. “I love you.” He murmured, “Merry Christmas, baby.” He added, not wanting to let go of you. “Merry Christmas, bubs.” You grinned, “I love you too.” You added, giving him a few more short pecks, “I’ll see you tomorrow night.” You assured him, “and then you get to give me my gift.” You teased, finally getting a genuine smile out of him. “Mhm, can’t wait.” He gave you one more peck before forcing himself to go into his apartment, shooting you a wink as he shut the door. This boy would be the death of you.

***

You stepped off the elevator, arms full of the gifts you’d been given by your family earlier today, you were happily surprised to see Tito already standing outside your door. “Want some help?” He teased, taking a couple of items from you, “Merry Christmas.” You giggled, unlocking your door, “Merry Christmas.” He repeated, a grin covering his face as he walked in, your present from him being dragged along as well. You set down the items on your table before turning to your boyfriend, greedily kissing him, “if they asked me where you were one more time I would’ve gone insane.” You groaned, he laughed pulling away from you. “Sorry baby.” He murmured, kissing all over your face, laughing at your protests. “Can I give you your gift first?” You asked giddily, he nodded and set your present down on the coffee table as you told him to sit on the couch. He listened and smiled when you pulled the single box out from under the tree, running over to him like a little kid. You sat beside him, eyeing him as he shook the box, “just open it!” You whined, nudging his shoulder, he pulled your legs across his lap before tearing open the small box. You watched him raise an eyebrow as he popped it open, it was possibly a silly gift, but you figured with the amount of times he had to wear a suit for work, why not give him a little something. He grinned, looking at the cuff links, them being shaped as the number 14, your apartment number, “I love it.” Tito whispered, leaning over to kiss you, “thank you, baby.” He smiled, before handing you yours, it was quite large, but very thin, leaving you confused.

You eyed him, “I saw you looking at them…” he trailed off as you peeled the paper away, your hand shooting to your mouth. A framed poster of the stars, not from the night of thanksgiving, or even your first date, but from the day you moved in. “Tito.” You gasped, tracing over the date with your fingers. “Baby, this is so sweet, thank you so much.” You carefully set it down on the table, moving to straddle him. “I love it, I love you.” You smiled, his arms wrapping around your back, pulling you flush against him.

“I love you, Y/N. The first Christmas of many more to come.”

Taglist: @vinceduhn @vincecdunn @kempe @jackiesquinn @literarycharleton @wtfkie

[yungidreamer]

New Beginnings

Summary: Mingi and Yunho go to her house for New Years to have a little time with her over the holidays. Friendly competition and and affection mark the day with a mix of old and new traditions.

Wordcount: 2.9k

Content warnings: This is basically pure family fluff. There is kissing, board games, and a little bit of good natured competition.

“Welcome, boys,” her mother said, greeting them at the door when they arrived. “I’m so glad to have you here.”

“Thanks for letting us come over,” Mingi smiled at her mother as she pulled him into a hug as he stepped inside. She then did the same to Yunho as he stepped inside behind him.

“You both look wonderful,” Her mother beamed at them. “Have you gotten bigger since Thanksgiving?”

“They probably have,” She replied to her mother from her seat on the couch near the Christmas tree. “They eat enough at home they have to still be growing or else they would be three hundred pounds.”

“That’s how it is with boys,” her mother laughed. “Just make sure they have enough to eat and they will sprout like weeds.”

“Actually, I’m pretty sure I’m getting chubby,” Mingi sighed, poking a finger at his imagined belly.

“Mmm, sure honey,” she gave him a skeptical look from her seat. 

“No, look,” he protested, coming to sit himself down beside her. Taking her hand in his, he put it on his stomach, just below the belly button. “See?” He moved her hand so she could feel the jiggle he was sure he was developing there.

“I feel skin,” she blinked at him. “And muscle.”

“No one believes me,” Mingi sighed and made a pouty face. 

“Well, you look good chubby,” San placated from where he was stretched out in the big armchair across the room.

“Thank you!” Mingi said with a forceful gratitude. “I hate being skinny.”

“Okay, I don’t think you are getting a pooch or something,” she said from beside him, moving her hand from his stomach to cover one of his own. “But you are getting cuter as you get older.”

“Really?” Mingi looked at her hopefully. She nodded at him and gave a chuckle.

“What about me?” Yunho asked, sitting at her feet and putting his open hands under his chin to frame and present his face to her.

“You too,” she agreed. “You both are getting ever cuter and more handsome, right mom?”

“It’s true,” her mother agreed, amused by the strange dynamic her daughter had with the boys in her life. Again she was forced to wonder why she had never picked one as a boyfriend. Now it wasn’t just those two boys, but San as well. She sighed and shook her head. Maybe she just didn’t understand kids these days.

“Okay, who is ready to play a game?” Her father asked as he came into the room. “We have hours and this is the only time of year I have a captive audience.”

“Sure I’m down,” she agreed, taking her hand off of Mingi. Yunho, San, Mingi, and her mother all agreed as well. Her father was well pleased to have a full set of people to play with. They agreed to start with a friendly game of Trivial Pursuit, a favorite game of both father and daughter.

“You all might regret agreeing to this game,” her mother warned the boys as they all picked their empty circular pie game piece.

“Why?” San asked, a smile playing at the corner of his lips.

“Those two get competitive,” her mother answered as she indicated her two family members with some decidedly enthusiastic pointing.

“I’m only like that with him,” she said defensively. “Someone has to stand up to him.”

“Ha, you only beat me last year because I was having an off day,” her father scoffed and sent her a challenging look.

“I guess we’ll have to see, won’t we?” She raised a challenging eyebrow to him. The game started with San rolling the highest and winning the chance to be the first player in the game. He successfully answered one question, but failed the second, neither of which were yet in a space where he could earn a wedge. Her father went next and missed his first question, something that made him grumble quietly as the next few people went.

Finally it was her turn. She rolled and landed on a spot for Sports and leisure, leaving Yunho to ask her the question. He pulled the card out, hiding the back with his large hand as he found the question corresponding to the color and subject.

“What goo—“ was all he got out before she sat up straight and interrupted to answer.

“Silly Putty.” She said eagerly.

Yunho stopped, looked at her, then turned the card in his hand, careful to keep the answer hidden. “That...that is correct. How did...just how?”

“No, no way,” Her dad protested. “You cheated. You must have shown her the answer.”

“How? When?” She pointed out with a confident sass.

“You can’t...HE GOT OUT TWO WORDS!?!” He sputtered.

“And I got the right answer,” she crossed her arms over her chest. “So then I get to roll again.”

“You...you…” her father gestured at the board a couple of times before he wilted and gave up his protests. “Just roll again.”

“Thank you, I will,” she jutted out her chin and picked up the die to throw it again. On her second roll she landed on a spot with the possibility of getting a wedge with a correct answer. She did, much to her father’s grumbling, being the first of the players to get a wedge, at least partially due to luck. With the correct answer she had another roll and lucked into a roll again spot, then to another spot where she could win a wedge. Her father insisted on being the one to ask her the question

“How many states border the Gulf of Mexico?” He asked, being very careful to hide the back of the card from her.

“Well Florida, Georgia, Louisiana, Mississippi, and Texas...so five,” she reasoned out.

“Correct,” Her father pursed his lips. “That was too easy for a wedge.” He grumped even as he pulled a blue one out for her to put in. She rolled again and landed on a square for arts and literature.

“This French artist became known for his lithographic posters.” Her father read out and Yunho felt a surge of pride when he heard the question. He knew she knew the answer to that, heck, he knew the answer to that because of her.

“Seurat,” she answered after a pause and a look that Yunho couldn’t quite read. 

“Ha, no, Toulouse-Lautrec,” Her father gave a satisfied smile and encouraged San to pick up the die and take his turn. Yunho looked down at her, trying to read her expression again.

“Can you help me get a drink?” He asked her, giving her a little elbow and a look. She nodded and stood up, following him the short distance to the kitchen. He let her pull a cup from the cabinet, which put her out of sight of everyone in the living room, before he leaned down and whispered in her ear, “I know you knew the answer to that question.”

“It’s no fun if the game ends too fast,” she shrugged and answered back.

“How long has it been since this game was a challenge for you?” Yunho asked, gently caressing her arm.

“A couple of years,” she admitted, looking up at him with a smile. “But it’s still fun to play.”

“Just...don’t let him win to be nice,” he told her gently. “I think he’ll be proud of you really.”

“I know, but no one will play with you if you win in like two turns,” she pointed out.

“It’s so hot that you’re smart,” he groaned.

“Mmmm, sexy big brain,” she joked back before heading to the fridge to pull out the soda to pour some for him.

“Hell yeah,” he whispered from behind her, sneaking a squeeze of her butt just before they would enter the view of everyone else. They returned to the game as her mother took her turn. Rounds passed and it was, as predicted, mostly a battle between father and daughter, with everyone else doing their best but really thoroughly enjoying the spectacle of the battle between the two of them. It took, or perhaps she let it last, an hour and a half before she landed in the center spot again and answered a final question of her choice to win the game. Her father sighed and extended a hand of congratulations to her. He had managed to gather five of six wedges, leaving him in second place with San and Mingi one behind him. Yunho and her mother had three each and were plenty pleased with the results, having had fun both playing and watching everyone else play the game.

With hours to kill still, her father suggested a game of monopoly which was met with a chorus of groans and flat out no from her mother. He protested, saying it would be fun and they had plenty of time before the New Years Extravaganza show even started. He finally settled for playing a game of backgammon with his daughter, which was really what he wanted most. He would never have asked her to stay at home or to go somewhere closer, but he missed having her around. Playing games with the whole family was great, her friends were wonderful, but he missed spending time with her.

While they played, everyone else hung out, socialized, and showed off the things they had gotten for Christmas. Jacob showed San and Mingi his new games and they played a couple of rounds with him on the little portable player. San and Mingi mostly had fun sabotaging each other as they went around the little race track, primarily focusing on making sure the other person didn’t finish ahead of them.

Dinner was a mix of the last of the leftovers along with a mix of anything quick and easy people wanted to make for themselves. Mingi made himself a bowl of ramen and shared it with her as she played a second game of backgammon with her father. Mingi had to admit, not knowing the rules of the game, it mostly seemed like an incomprehensible jumble of rolling and moving things around in strange ways. Mingi sat and watched, feeding her an occasional slurp of noodles.

By the time the second game ended the New Year’s Extravaganza was beginning on TV and her mother had switched it on in the background. Everyone settled in to relax and watch the series of performers and over excited hosts as they talked with various famous people who came and went on the Times Square stage. They recognized some of the people, but not all. It didn’t really matter though, they were there for the spectacle of the crowds all stuffed in together cheering whenever the camera panned their way. Their collective breaths clung in the still, cold air as they breathed, chatted, and shouted excitedly, waiting for midnight.

At home they watched all the buzz of the excitement in a lazy comfort. Having finished the last game with her father, she was stretched out on the couch, her feet resting on San’s lap with her boys sitting near her on the floor, leaning against the couch. Her brother was still glued to his new game and handheld player, his face a mask of concentration as he played. Her parents were seated together in the armchair watching the program and talking quietly.

When it was quarter to midnight her mother got out a couple of bottles of sparkling juice and champagne flutes for everyone so they could all toast and ring in the New Year. Everyone was given a glass and poured a little of the champagne stand in and the program on the TV was turned up to listen to the last few hyped minutes of the program.

“Oh I almost forgot!” Her mother exclaimed suddenly.

“Mom, you’re not getting the herring,” her daughter cringed.

“It’s good luck,” her mother responded as she passed her on the way into the kitchen.

“Awww mom,” Jacob shook his head and made a face.

“It’s just a bite,” her mother scolded, coming back with the jar of pickled herring and a small fork. “And if it brings you good luck then it’s worth it isn’t it?”

“It’s a superstition, mom,” she pointed out. “There is no evidence for, like, any of that.”

“And it does you no harm to have a bite...just in case,” her mother wagged her finger at her. Her daughter rolled her eyes and huffed, but let it go.

Finally the time came and everyone counted down to midnight. On the TV, the people on the stage shouted the countdown loudly as the numbers flashed on some of the huge screens across Time Square and the large ball flashed brightly in various patterns as it prepared to drop. Midnight hit, the ball fell, and cheers rose both from the crowd in and inside the warm living room. Everyone toasted each other and took a sip as the strains of Auld Lang Syne played on the television. The camera pulled back and eventually faded to a shot of the city  from the water, showing the colorful burst of fireworks happening against the iconic New York City skyline.

Her mother and father gave each other a quick kiss and her brother sipped his drink and made a little oh brother face. Mingi’s eyes flashed to Yunho and then to their girl. Yunho flashed him a small, understanding smile back, communicating I know, me too. He wanted to kiss them, to celebrate that moment with them like any other couple could. But they couldn’t, not here, not with her parents.

Behind them San caught the look they shared, understanding the emotions behind it. An idea struck him, it was weird, it might not go over well, but hell, it was worth a try. San sat up straight, cleared his throat and gave Mingi’s shoulder a tap. Sitting in front of him on the floor, Mingi turned to look at San with a questioning expression on his face. San took his cheeks between his hands and angled his head slightly before pressing a close-lipped kiss to him.

To say that Mingi was surprised was perhaps an understatement. Mingi froze under the kiss, not quite sure how he was supposed to react. San pulled back then scooted closer to her on the couch, pulling her into a close mouthed kiss as well. When he had left her well and truly surprised, he moved on to Yunho. When he pulled back, he paused near Yunho’s ear and whispered. “Now you can kiss them and all they are going to remember is that I started this.”

A surprised expression spread across Yunho’s face as he realized what exactly San had just managed to do. He had given them cover for a New Year’s kiss, even though it was probably at the expense of a good amount of his dignity, but he still did it. Yunho turned where he sat and pulled her into a soft and innocent kiss, his thumb caressing her cheek for a moment as he did. He pulled back before he wanted to, but knowing that he couldn’t take too much license. He leaned over to Mingi and shared a kiss with him as well. Mingi crawled over to get his kiss in with their girl, sneaking in a squeeze to her hand as he brushed his lips over hers.

“You know,” her father observed, clearing his throat as he scratched the back of his neck. “Friendship has really changed since I was a kid.”

“No, they’re all just weird,” Jacob said, blinking at them for a couple more seconds before he went back to his game.

By quarter to one the boys were bid good night and sent home with hugs and warm wishes. She promised to come over in the next couple of days and see Yunho and his mother. It had been too long since she had been able to see her, she admitted. Yunho and Mingi were sad to go and wanted more than anything a moment alone with her, but it was not to be.

In her house everyone shuffled off to bed after brushing their teeth and washing up. Work would start in another day or two for her parents and it was only a week until they all went back to school. She couldn’t wait. She ended up in the bathroom with San, brushing her teeth at the same time as they got ready to bed.

“So, I guess I owe you something,” she said quietly after spitting.

“Nah,” San told her after rinsing his mouth out. “What is a big brother for except helping you outwit the parents for a good cause?”

“You… are a sneaky bastard and I am going to remember this,” she laughed. “I look forward to you using my IOU for a visit.”

“Yeah?” San asked, pulling her into a hug.

“Yeah,” she nodded her head where it rested against his chest. “Best big brother, ever.”

“So you’re gonna keep me?” He teased, leaning his head on top of hers.

“Looks like,” she laughed. “Happy New Year and welcome to the family, like for real.”

“Thank you, Chipmunk,” he nuzzled into her hair, happy to have had such a wonderful place and wonderful people to start fresh with.

Masterlist

[softboywriting]

Christmas Together | Shawn Mendes

Summary: When you and Shawn head home for Christmas, you end up stuck in a snowstorm in a small town in the middle of the united states. With all flights grounded until further notice, the two of you will have to spend Christmas together at a bed and breakfast. This blizzard may just be the push that brings the two of you together with the help of a little Christmas magic. [fluff] [Christmas themed] [personal assistant to lovers au] [non au shawn]

Word Count: 6k

|Masterlist In Bio|

Traveling with Shawn for the holidays is never easy. He is possibly the busiest man you've ever worked for but you don’t mind because being with Shawn is just like being with someone you love, because, well, you do love him. Thanksgiving came and went, yours in the states not his, you don't go home for that holiday anyways. It's not a big deal for your family back home. Christmas is though and traveling three days before Christmas is a nightmare.

Things were going smoothly, you had a plan to get home before christmas. Things were going perfectly until the last minute. You had somehow gotten two tickets on a fully booked flight from Brazil to Canada. The plan is for you to fly straight to the Toronto airport, no layovers and from there you'll catch a cab home to New York. You're about an hour into the flight and you can feel some turbulence coming on. No big deal. Until the pilot announced an emergency landing somewhere in Iowa.

"Oh no...no no shit." You look out the window and see nothing but clouds. No doubt about it, you’ve flown directly into a storm system.

"What? It's fine, we're just going to be a little delayed." Shawn rubs your shoulder. "It's no big deal."

"No, it is." You lean your head back against the headrest. "My sister is having a baby today and I promised I'd be there. My whole family is going to be there for Christmas. She's the first of us to have a kid."

"Oh. You didn't tell me that."

You look over and Shawn looks concerned. He always has such a big heart for everyone, it’s one of the many reasons why you love him so much. "I didn't think you needed to know. It's not work related."

"Well yeah but I still care about you. I know I'm your job but like, I'm still a person who cares about you."

"I know...I know I usually tell you everything it's just been...I've been-"

Shawn lays his hand on yours and you look down at it, heart racing. "I've been difficult lately. I know and I'm sorry. Traveling and shows have been hectic the last few weeks. It's totally my fault you’re overwhelmed."

"No, Shawn it's fine. My job is to take care of all that stuff. I'm not- I shouldn't complain about it."

"So what's stressing you out if it's not me?"

"Everything about the christmas season. My sister having a kid, obviously but...mostly it’s that christmas sucks when you're single okay?"

Shawn's eyebrows shoot up. "Why?"

"Because every year I go home and my siblings all have their girlfriends and boyfriends or fiance's and shit and I'm the odd one out. Every year I become the center of attention at dinner, the butt of the joke during gift opening. It's just a pain in the ass being branded as the forever alone child in the family."

"Why is your family so mean?"

"They aren't. They don't mean their comments venmously, it's just little things that bug me. Little indirect jabs that remind everyone I'm single and I have been for a long time."

"Why are you single?"

You give him a blank stare. He couldn't be serious. He doesn't understand that he's the reason you can't be in a relationship? That your job of tailing him everywhere and managing his schedule and life is just as stressful on a relationship with someone for you as it is for him. "Shawn, I'm constantly traveling. When am I supposed to date? When am I supposed to meet someone?"

"Fuck." He groans and scrubs a hand over his face. "You're in the same boat as me. I didn’t even think of it like that."

"Yeah except I can't fly somewhere every time I have a few days off to see someone and make an attempt at one."

He shakes his head. "I've doomed you to be single. I'm putting you through the same stress I put myself through and it's not fair."

"It's not. But it's my job, and you have yours."

Shawn grabs your arm as the plan drops and shakes. "I'll make it up to you, I swear." His voice falters as the plane jerks violently.

You squeeze your eyes shut and he threads his fingers between yours, palm a little sweaty. "I don't see how but okay."

"If we make it through this I will do everything I can to get you a date."

"You're crazy Mendes."

"Yeah but you already knew that."

_____________________

The plane lands in one piece despite feeling like it was going to tear in half at any moment. As soon as you get to the airline club lounge you find out the flight is not just delayed but all flights are grounded for the next forty eight hours at least. Two days. You are definitely going to miss your sister's baby and you're possibly going to miss Christmas. As much as you don't want to deal with your family for the holiday, you're still going to miss them and you’re upset you might not be there.

"What're we going to do?" You ask as you slump into a chair beside Shawn. He looks over from his phone and you raise your eyebrows. "What are you doing?"

"I got a place to stay until we can get another flight."

"What? How? That's my job."

He chuckles and pockets his phone. "I can book a place. I know how to use the internet."

"Well yeah but- how? There was a hotel with rooms free this close to Christmas and during a storm?"

"Kind of. Every hotel I looked at was full but there is a bed and breakfast about half an hour from the airport that had a room."

You stand up and grab your bag and suitcase. "I'll call a car or taxi or something for us and-"

Shawn lays his hand on your shoulder. "I did that too. I got an Uber."

"Oh."

"You do absolutely everything for me. I figured I could return the favor since right now is really stressful for you."

"But it's my job...it's not a favor."

Shawn shakes his head and grabs his bags. "Come on, you need to relax. I read that this b'nb is super nice and the rooms have huge tubs. I know you like baths."

"What? How do you know that?"

"You travel with mini bath bombs in your shower bag and you always seek out the hot tub when we book a really nice hotel on tour." Shawn looks back and you jog to catch up to him. "I guess I’m a little observant?"

"What else have you observed?" You ask nervously, hoping he hasn’t caught on to the fact you have very real feelings for him. You’ve done your best to hide them for a long time.

Shawn holds open the door to the pick up lanes for you as you step out into the icy wind blowing snow everywhere. "Your favorite color is red."

"Why's that?"

"You rarely wear it but when you do, you are always more confident and you seem more comfortable. You always pick red when given a choice of things and your eyes always light up whenever I wear my red button down, so I know you must like the color at least."

"Maybe that's because it looks so good on you."

He smirks. "Oh yeah?"

"Mmhmm."

"Good to know." Shawn steps out into the snow and approaches a black car. "Come on, this is our ride."

_____________________

The bed and breakfast looks like a winter wonderland. It's decked out in decorated trees, wreaths, lights, the whole nine yards when the Uber driver pulls up. It has a little sign in the front that says Dover Inn. How Shawn found this place you have no idea. A short walk up to the front and you and Shawn are pushing your way through a heavy door into a small foyer that's been converted into a check in area.

"Hello!" An older woman with long dark hair says as she comes out of a back area. Her name tag says Judy. "Do you have reservations?"

"Yes, Mendes. We booked online." Shawn shakes snow off his hat by the door. "The first name is Peter."

"Ah, yes, here you are." Judy says, squinting at her laptop on the old wood countertop. "Let me go see that the room is ready. I'll be right back."

"Peter?" You ask, dusting your coat off. "Why'd you use your middle name?"

"I didn't want to draw attention to myself. You know how fans are, they always somehow find out where I'm staying."

"True. Smart, actually. But we're in the middle of nowhere Iowa in a town of probably a few thousand people during a snowstorm. I'm pretty sure that no fans are going to bum rush you out here."

"I wasn't taking the risk." Shawn pulls his hat back on and you shake your head at him.

"Mr. Mendes?" Judy says from the stairs behind the check in desk.

"Yes?"

"You booked a double room correct?"

"Yes."

The woman walks forward to the desk and types something into her laptop, chewing on her lower lip. "There is an error with room numbers on the site, the room you booked is a single room suite with a queen bed. We can refund you if you like. I'm so sorry."

"No," you lay your hand on Shawn's arm before he can say anything. "It's fine. We will take it."

Shawn gives you a look, silently asking if you're sure.

"You're sure?" The host asks, looking between you and Shawn. "I can at least give you a discount for the mistake."

"That will be fine, thank you." Shawn says softly and the host grabs your room keys.

On the way up the stairs you notice how beautiful this place really is. It's old, a historic building if you were to guess. A large manor like house of sorts at some time, but now converted to a bed and breakfast. Everything is decked out in Christmas, literally everything. Judy leads you to your room at the end of the hall and opens the door.

"We have pillows and blankets in the closet. There are heated blankets available on request. Breakfast is served at eight until nine every morning. If you need anything you can call the front desk by dialing star five five. Feel free to explore the inn, we have a large living room and the kitchen open to guests after ten in the morning. Can I get you anything right now?"

"No, thank you." You smile as you look around the gorgeous room. It's huge and spacious. There is a fireplace in the center of the far wall, lounge chairs flanking it with a small tree decorated in the corner. A large queen-size bed with a huge bed frame and two dark wood dressers sit against the opposite wall. There is a door on the left of the entrance for the bathroom and the right for the closet. It's incredible.

Shawn drops his bag on the floor by the closet and pushes his suitcase and guitar case up against it. "You're fine with sharing a bed?"

"Yeah? Should I not be?"

"Well I mean isn’t it a little...intimate?"

You laugh. "Shawn, I've been your assistant for almost two years now. I'm pretty sure that I can survive sharing a bed for two nights with you. It's just like sharing your bed with your best friend when they sleep over." You drop your own bag by the closet. "Don't worry about it." You say this, but honestly you’re not sure how you’re going to fare. Being close to Shawn is one thing, but sharing a bed is a special kind of intimate, whether sexual or not, you worry about how you’ll be able to keep your cool.

Shawn takes off his coat and flops down on the bed. "I'm sorry you're missing your sister's baby."

You hang your own coat and flop down beside him. "There's nothing that can be done now."

"What if we can't get home for Christmas?"

You look over and he turns his head to look at you. "We have each other?"

"Yeah, we do." Shawn smiles softly. "I'm glad I'm stuck here with you."

"I'm glad it's you too."

____________________

Sleeping with Shawn is better than you expected. To start, you thought he would be a bed hog like he is on the tour bus, sprawled out all over his bed at the back of the bus, but he isn't. The two of you put on pajamas and crawled in on your respective sides. It was a little awkward at first, both of you unsure if it was okay to move or curl up or anything really. You decided to break that barrier though, push the button and make a move because the tension was absolutely eating you alive.

You scoot over from the very edge of the bed where you are laying uncomfortably still. You turn on your side and face Shawn who looks uncomfortable as hell too. "Hey, you look like you're petrified."

"I don't know what to do."

"How do you usually sleep with other people in your bed?"

Shawn rolls onto his side and props his head up on his hand. "Well, usually I spoon them because it's someone I'm very interested in and have usually just been intimate with. Other than that I usually sleep alone."

"Uh huh. So is it the lack of intimacy before hand that's stopping you?"

His cheeks turn dark pink in the soft glow of the white lights on the tree in the corner. "I-I don't know. Maybe?"

"If you need to spoon me so you can sleep, you can. I don't mind." You lay on your back and roll so your back is to him. You pat your side, inviting him to cuddle up. It’s the worst idea you’ve ever had and your heart is threatening to burst out of your chest at the sheer thought of Shawn being pressed against you. But how else will you ever get to experience a Shawn cuddle? You would rather know and live with that knowledge for the rest of your life while you pine in silence until you find someone to settle down with, than never know and always wonder just what you may have missed. "I trust you Shawn."

The bed shifts and you can feel the heat from his body as he scoots closer, but not quite touching. "You don't think it's weird?"

"We've been in much more intimate situations I’m sure. I've seen you naked a few dozen times. This isn't a big deal. I sleep better with someone close and you do too it seems. Just cuddle me and stop being so nervous about it."

Shawn's hand rests tentatively on your hip. "You're sure you don’t mind?"

"Shawn. I swear, it's fine." You chew on your lip, voice surprisingly convincing despite your nerves.

Finally Shawn takes the plunge, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you back against his warm body. Instantly you melt, body completely turning to mush. It’s everything you imagined it would be and more. He’s just right, bigger than you, warmer, soft but not too soft. You let out a sigh and he presses his nose to your hair.

"You smell really good,” Shawn says quietly.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome, and thank you for letting me cuddle you. I hope you don't think I'm weird."

You put your hand over his against your chest. "I always think you're weird, but not because of this."

"I miss it."

"Hmm? Miss what?"

"Being affectionate like this." He adjusts himself so he is fully pressed against the length of your body, feet covering yours between the blankets.. "It's been a long time."

You close your eyes, nervous to say what you really want to. Worried he will know you're falling for him. Well...that you’ve already fallen for him. You did that a long time ago. "I don't mind if you want to do this. I mean...like, again?"

Shawn presses his hand against your chest gently, holding you back against him as if giving you a hug. "I just might have to take you up on that offer sometime."

_____________________

Morning finds you warm and cozy. There is a fire in the fireplace when you sit up and look around the otherwise empty room. Shawn isn't there, but the smell of his body wash wafts in from the bathroom that's open but dark. You look to the clock over the fireplace and it's just after eight thirty. You check your phone and you have no signal, of course.  

You stretch as you get up and go to the big windows on the far wall. It's snowing still. You doubt it has ever stopped. You grab the complimentary robe from the dresser on your side of the room and wrap up in it before heading downstairs.

In the dining area that's set up like a small restaurant would be with it's tables and chairs scattered around with families and couples sat in eating, you find Shawn alone by the fireplace sipping coffee and reading something on his phone.

"Morning," you say softly as you take a seat with your back to the fireplace. "How'd you sleep?"

"Like a baby. You?"

"Same."

Shawn puts his phone down and offers you his cup. "Coffee?"

"That's yours though?"

"Yeah but you can have some while we wait for the hostess to come by again." Shawn scoots the mug toward you. "I know you aren't sick or something."

You wrap your hands around the mug and lift it up to take a sip. Straight black coffee with a hint of sweetener. It's strong as hell and you swear you can feel it wake your senses up immediately. "This is horrible. How do you enjoy this?"

He laughs. "It's good?"

"No cream or something? It's like engine oil."

"Nuh uh." Shawn plucks his mug from your hands and takes a drink. "It's great. Oh, here comes the hostess."

You order some eggs, bacon and orange juice. Shawn asks for just some bacon and toast. You look out the window to see the snow reaching the bottom of it, drifted up from the wind no doubt. It has snowed so much you're seriously worried you may not get home for a while.

"What's wrong?"

"The snow. It keeps falling."

"Yep." Shawn turns and looks outside. "I told my parents I would be spending Christmas here. If I'm wrong, it'll be a surprise when I get home. If I'm right, they're not worried about me."

"You have signal?"

"Yeah. You don't?"

"No. Can I call my parents?"

Shawn hands you his phone and you excuse yourself to the living room where it's a little quieter. You dial your dad's cell number and lean against the wall near a tree.

"Dad? Hey it's me."

"Kiddo! Where are you? We thought you were coming home last night?"

"We had to land in Iowa. We're grounded for at least two days, but it might be longer. It's hasn't stopped snowing since last night. Did Penny have her baby?"

"Not yet. They said it could be any day now, I guess she wasn't ready."

"That's great! Well, not for Penny but I didn't miss it. Is she worried about me? Did she think I forgot?"

"No no, we figured you might have been delayed. Whose number are you calling from by the way? I didn't recognize it."

"It's Sh- the hotel's number. I'm using a landline."

"It's an out of country number? I thought you were in Iowa?"

You scrub a hand over your face and mentally kick yourself. You don't want to tell your dad it's Shawn's cell number but your lie doesn't make sense. "It's Shawn's phone. Promise me you won't give this number out."

"Shawn? You're traveling home with him?"

"Yeah, well, no."

"Honey!" You dad calls for your mom and you hear her respond in the background. "Our daughter is bringing home a guest for Christmas!"

"Dad! No! We aren't going to make it!"

"What's that dear? You're breaking up, I can barely make out your voice."

"Dad, we probably aren't going to make it for Christmas and I'm not bringing Shawn home. Dad, can you hear me?"

"You're bringing Shawn? That's okay! We'll see you soon!"

"Dad no! We aren't-" The line goes dead and you pull the phone away from your ear. The signal bars drop from three to none and you groan. Perfect...just perfect.

______________________

After breakfast you find Shawn in the living room with his guitar sitting with a little girl who has a cat piano that meows instead of playing regular piano notes. The girl is maybe five or six and you're pretty sure her grandma is the woman sitting a few feet away on her iPad. You lean against the archway that leads to the dining area and smile as Shawn let's the girl pluck a few strings on the guitar.

"You like music huh? What's your favorite?"

"I like the music from Frozen and Moana." The girl says and presses a key on her piano that makes a deep cat meowing sound. "I like Moana the best."

"Me too." Shawn smiles, playing a few chords. "I know the song How Far I’ll Go pretty well."

You shake your head as he smiles to himself. Of course he knows the song, it's one of Alessia's. Shawn looks up and sees you. He says something to the girl really quick and gets up, leaving his guitar on the floor.

"Hey, did you get to call your parents back after it dropped?"

"No, the signal keeps fading. I sent a few texts, hopefully they'll get them."

"Ah. Well...did you know you're standing under the mistletoe?"

"Huh?" You look up and sure enough there is a little sprig of green with holly berries attached to the archway. "No, I think you're under the mistletoe."

"No, it's definitely you and you know what that means."

"You're gonna kiss me?"

"Yep." Shawn leans in and kisses your cheek gently as you back up. "You're free to go now."

You roll your eyes and giggle as he steps forward and leans against the archway. "Oh no, looks like you're definitely under it now."

"Ah crap."

You stand on your tiptoes and kiss his cheek. "Looks like I was right all along."

Shawn laughs and turns away to go back into the living room. "I'll get you back for that, you lured me in."

"Uh huh. Sure you will." You head upstairs to find a movie on tv to kill time. May as well get used to it. You're going to be here a while longer.

_____________________

A little after noon Shawn finds you in the room curled up on the bed watching TV. You just got a text back from your dad saying that Penny had her baby. A boy named Lucas, eight pounds. You couldn't help but cry, disappointed you weren't there but happy that Penny had her baby okay. It sucks.

"What's wrong?" Shawn asks, sitting beside you on the bed. "Your eyes are red like you were upset."

"Penny had her baby."

"Oh! That's great, is she okay? Is the baby okay?"

You nod. "I'm just sad I couldn't be there for her. She's the first of my siblings and I to have a kid and I guess...I guess I sort of live vicariously through her."

"Oh."

"It's fine." You wipe your eyes. "Everyone is healthy. I'll get to meet the baby a little later. It's alright."

Shawn opens his arms and motions for you to come to him. You do, leaning forward until you're crawling into his arms. He holds you tight, rubbing up and down your back with his big soft hands. "Its okay to be upset. I understand if you're emotional about missing something clearly important to you."

You rub your nose on his shoulder. "Thank you. I'm sorry I'm crying so much."

"No, shh, you don't have to be sorry."

"But-"

Shawn squeezes you. "No buts, let it all out. You're always there for me on my bad days, I'm gonna be here for you."

_____________________

"Can I take you to dinner?"

You look up from your laptop. The inn has WiFi but it's not the best. You've just been updating schedules and trying to get any flight out of Iowa. So far everything is still grounded until the storms blow over. "Dinner?"

"Yeah. I was talking with some people in the living room earlier and they said that there is a place not too far from here that serves dinner through Christmas Eve. I thought maybe it'd get your mind off of everything."

"Sure." You close your laptop and get up to put on your coat. "Are we walking?"

"Yes. Wear your boots."

"Mmm and what are you going to wear?" You glance at his well loved chelsea boots in the corner. They're the only shoes he has with him aside from some tennis shoes made of breathable mesh.

Shawn grabs his boots and looks down at his feet, wiggling his toes in his socks. "I'll wear extra socks?"

"Mmhmm." You sit down and pull on your black leather boots that are possibly the best shoes you own. "Y'know you're a millionaire right? You can afford new boots just like those that aren't worn thin."

"I know. But these are comfortable, they're my boots."

"Right."

He groans as he sinks into the bed beside you to put on an extra pair of socks. "I promise I'll get new boots okay? But I won't get rid of these."

"Shawn, they're old."

"They're my favorite." He zips the side and stomps his foot down to adjust to the extra socks bulk. "Don't judge me."

"Alright, alright," you giggle. "I'll stop bullying you into getting new shoes. If they make you happy, that's what matters."

"They do." Shawn gets up and grabs his coat, tossing you his sweater he wore yesterday. "You might want that."

"I have a sweater?"

"The thin one that you wore yesterday? That's hardly a sweater."

"I didn't plan on being trapped in a snowglobe after leaving Brazil, a very non sweater climate. So sorry I didn't pack for a blizzard."

Shawn narrows his eyes and you narrow yours back. "I'm not going to take a human popsicle to dinner."

"Oh whatever." You snatch his sweater off the bed laughing as you pull it on. It's a little big and it smells like cinnamon and his cologne. So basically, Shawn. You used to wonder why he smelled like cinnamon, then you found out one of his primary vitamin supplements has cinnamon in it. It's supposed to help with metabolism or something. All you know is it makes him smell slightly spicy when he gets warm.

The walk to the restaurant is fairly short. It's just two blocks up from the inn. The snow is a pain to walk through and it's easier to walk in the street than it is to try and use the sidewalk. There are absolutely no cars out and about so you're pretty safe. There are a few other people in the restaurant when you step in, grateful to get out of the cold wind. You're glad you wore Shawn's sweater.

"So, if we are stuck here for Christmas, what do you want to do?" Shawn asks as soon as you're seated by the waitress.

"We're going to find a way home."

"I know you're trying but-"

You shake your head. "No, I'm going to find a way home. I missed Penny's baby. I'm not missing Christmas."

Shawn sighs softly. "Alright. We're going to find a way home. I'll get you home one way or another."

"We'll get us both home."

"Right. Enough about that though, we're supposed to be enjoying dinner and not thinking about all that." Shawn says, lifting his menu. "Look, they have a Christmas dinner option. Ham, potatoes and all the fixings. Sounds good."

You nod and try to focus on the menu. It's hard. You can't help but feel nervous as the day comes to a close. One day until Christmas. At least you're not alone.

_____________________

Just after two in the morning you wake up to a severe weather alert on your phone. The signal must have connected enough for you to get one. Shawn's phone goes off too, loudly buzzing on his dresser.

"What's going on?" Shawn asks sleepily, arm falling to your waist as you sit up.

"It's a severe weather alert." You read the message on your phone. "Blizzard warning. High winds may cause power outages across the state. Below freezing temperatures are in effect, be advised if going outdoors."

"Shit." Shawn mumbles.

"Shit is right. We're not leaving this place."

He pushes you back down and you curl up facing the windows away from him. "We'll be alright."

"This sucks."

"Mmm. I promise I'll make it up to you. It's my fault we're out here because I didn't want to leave Brazil until the last minute. I ruined Christmas." He sighs.

"Shawn, stop. You didn't ruin anything."

He cuddles you against him and presses his nose into your hair. "I'm sorry."

"You didn't do anything."

"I still feel guilty."

You grab his hand and he threads his fingers between yours. "Can I ask you something?"

"Anything, but I'm not very awake."

"Do you think we were meant to be here, together for Christmas?"

"Hmm?"

"Like...never mind."

Shawn yawns and doesn't press the subject. He relaxes into you, his weight comfortable against your back. You close your eyes, really enjoying this moment despite the impending knowledge of being stuck here for the holiday. You and Shawn fit together perfectly, maybe a little too perfectly.

_____________________

Shawn is gone again when you wake up in the morning. It's after eight and you know you should get up and go get breakfast, but you aren't hungry. It's Christmas Eve. You don't want to get up.

The bedroom door opens and Shawn walks in, bundled up and carrying a bag full of wrapped gifts. "Good morning."

"Morning. What's that?" You point to the gifts and Shawn grins sheepishly.

"Presents."

"For?"

"You?"

You raise your eyebrows. "Why do you have presents for me?"

Shawn sets the bag down by the tree and unwraps his scarf from around his face. "Everyone deserves gifts on Christmas day. And since we're going to be stuck here, I figured we should make our own Christmas."

"You're not sad you can't get home?"

"I was, but I talked to my dad this morning. He said that Christmas is what you make it, whether that be with family, friends or your pets. He said that they will miss me, but he doesn't want me to fret over it. We can do Christmas whenever I get home." Shawn hangs his coat and kicks off his boots. "I'm lucky, because I have you and I'm not alone."

"I guess you're right. We are together in the same boat."

"Yep. So let's make the best of it."

"I suppose I should get up and go shop for you now huh?"

"You could. But let's have some breakfast first." Shawn holds his hand out for you. "Come on, there is cinnamon roll pancakes with your name on them."

"There is?"

"Mmm. I talked to the kitchen staff this morning. They said they would make them special since we're some of the few guests left at the inn." Shawn bites his lip. "I know they're your favorite."

"You're sweet." You curl your fingers around his hand and he lifts you up out of bed. "Too sweet."

Shawn hugs you tight. "You deserve it."

_____________________

Breakfast is amazing. The kitchen crew out did themselves with the cinnamon pancakes with sweet icing for you. Shawn ordered just eggs and bacon but they're also super good. Even the coffee is better than before.

Shawn reaches out and swipes some icing off your lip with his thumb. "Do you like me?"

"What? Of course." Your heart sinks, stomach churning. You know he doesn’t mean in a general way. "Why?"

"I mean, as more than your friend or job...whatever. I've just been thinking. The last few days have been some of the best I've had and-" He looks away, flushed. "And you and I have been kind of flirting a lot? Unless I've been reading this completely wrong."

"You like me?"

"Of course I like you." He looks back and fidgets with his fork. "You and I have had a vibe since you joined the team. I think I've been too nervous to admit it before now. I was too scared to shoot my shot."

You grab Shawn's hand and make him stop tapping his fork on the table. "Calm down. I like you a lot. A whole lot."

"Yeah?" He grins, chewing on his lip.

"Yes."

"Good, because I don't want to stop sharing a bed with you any time soon. You’ve spoiled me the last few days. I don't think I've slept this well since before the tour started." He chuckles to himself. "Remember when I promised you on the plane that as soon as we landed I'd find you a date?"

You giggle and he lines his hand up with yours on the table, palms together, his fingers curling over the top of yours slightly. "Yes?"

"Do you want to go out with me tonight?"

"But there is a blizzard warning."

Shawn looks around the dining room. "We can stay here, I can get hot cocoa and cookies from the kitchen. We can watch a movie or something." His fingers slot between yours and you squeeze his hand. "We can stay up until midnight like kids on Christmas."

"Alright." You smile softly and he looks back just as soft. "Let's do it."

_____________________

At midnight you and Shawn exchange gifts, not all of them, just one each. You had gone out and shopped at a small store in town that had all sorts of things for the holidays. You picked out a few things for Shawn, just little memorable trinkets. One is a keychain so you never forget this holiday and it says first Christmas, Iowa. It's cheesy but you don't care. The next gift you grabbed was a paracord bracelet the store had by the registers. It's black with a red stripe down the middle. You couldn't pass it up. Shawn loves his accessories and especially if they mean something or are a gift.

Shawn hands you a small box wrapped in brown paper first. "Merry Christmas."

You turn it over and give him a look. "What is this?"

"Open it and see."

You tear off the brown paper and open up the box. Inside is a little sparkly rose charm on a gold chain. "This is so cute." You lift it out and it is so ornate and delicate. "Where did you get this?"

"It's a secret." He smirks.

"Mmhmm. You did not buy this here.”

“You can’t prove that.”

“Oh yeah? I have access to your bank account remember? I swore I wouldn’t use it for ill intent but...and you told me you’d never lie to me when we first met.”

“Fine, I did promise you that. I got it before we left Brazil. I was going to give it to you at the airport.”

“Thank you.” You curl your hand around it and smile. “Your turn." You hand him a tiny bag with the bracelet in it.

Shawn opens it and slips it on. "I love it."

"I thought you might. I didn’t get you something cool in Brazil....and I know it's not much but-"

Shawn leans forward and kisses you, hand resting against your neck. Your eyes go wide and he pulls back.

"W-what was that about?"

"Look up."

You tilt your head back and see there is mistletoe hanging over the area in front of the fireplace where you're sat with Shawn. It was definitely not there earlier. "When did that happen?"

"I told you I'd get you back." He smirks and it dawns on you. The other day in the living room, the mistletoe.  

"You put that there." You laugh and he cups your cheek. "You...you put that there?"

"I did." He leans in and you take a deep breath. "And I did it because I needed some Christmas magic to give me the courage to do this." He presses his lips to yours once more and you slide your hand into his hair.

"Merry Christmas Shawn."

"Merry Christmas."

End

______________________

Thank you for reading! Please reblog if you enjoyed this and reblog to support and encourage myself and fellow writers. - A

*****Note: none of my works should be posted anywhere outside of my linked accounts. I do not give permission to repost with or without credit to my accounts. Please notify me of any reposted fics.*****

[nerdy-bookworm-1998]

I’ll Be Home For Christmas

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader Words: 1607 Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Drugging, Mentions of assassinations, Implied human trafficking, one swear word A/N: This is part of my 25 Days of Christmas Writing Challenge. For those that are interested, I still have 18 request spots available. Just send me a request for what you would like me to write along with the character. I will write for Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Tony Stark, Peter Parker, Legolas, Thranduil, and Kili. Feedback and reblogs are appreciated. If you want to be tagged in future works, just drop me an ask.

With less than a week left until Christmas Eve, the compound is silent. Steve had been gone on a recon mission in Stuttgart since just after Thanksgiving. The rest of the team were all spending time with their loved ones all over the country. I had just settled in for a Game of Thrones binge-session when Friday announces that my presence is required in the briefing room.

With a long-suffering sigh, I haul myself up from the couch and shuffle over to the elevators that would take me out of the living quarters and to the floor where all the offices, interrogation, and conference rooms are. After a short ride and even shorter stroll, I reach the right door and enter without bothering to knock.

At the front of the room stands Maria Hil, Tony, and Nick Fury. They all look up from where they are bent over a hologram when I enter. "Agent 19, you're right on time. Please, have a seat," Nick says, pointing to the chairs around the table. I take the one closest to the front.

"What is this about?" I enquire.

"What do you know about Kevin Ivanovich?" Maria asks, getting straight to the point.

"He's a former KGB operative working out of Moscow. He's responsible for the assassination of over 30 SHIELD agents, but we've never been able to catch him," I recall from the stories Nat and Clint had told me.

"We've received a tip-off from local intelligence that Mr. Ivanovich will be crawling out of his hiding place for a holiday gala hosted by Borris and Elena Makaveli. It also just so happens to be a cover for a silent auction on everything from advanced weaponry to enhanced individuals. We already have agents in place to take down the auction. But Ivanovich is known for escaping the net, no matter how tight it is. Which is where you come in," Maria explains as she hands me the folder with all relevant information. "We need you to go to Moscow, posing as the daughter and heir of a wealthy American arms-dealer, standing in for her father at the auction. We need you to charm him, get him to trust you by helping him escape the party, let his guard down. Once it is, we need you to drug him and take him to the American embassy, where I will be waiting to transport him to the Raft. Do you have any questions?"

"Yeah, I have a few questions. What is the name of my alias? How am I getting to Russia? How am I getting into the party? And when do I leave?" I ask, crossing my legs.

"The informant sent over an invitation for you. I'm loaning you a private jet with a crew that will take you directly to Moscow Sheremetyevo International Airport, where a car and driver will be waiting for you. You leave in the next two hours. We thought you could pick out your alias yourself," Tony answers with his usual flamboyancy.

Once the meeting is over, I head directly to my room. I pick a large suitcase to store my clothing, toiletries, and accessories for the trip. I choose a smaller, matching case to hold my favorite knives and guns. Finally, I go to the safe in the back of my closet. Inside are several manilla envelopes with the names of my various aliases written on top. After several moments of contemplation, I take out the envelope bearing the name Alexandra Gilbert and toss it onto my bed before going back into my closet to change.

A pair of white-washed skinny jeans, a red cashmere sweater, knee-high black leather boots trimmed with faux fur, and a faux fur coat later, I'm mission ready.

A short car ride, a nine-hour-long flight, and another car ride through peak-hour traffic, I am checked into a luxurious suite at the St. Regis hotel (generously paid for by Stark Industries).

The next evening, after a day of tourist-related activities, I am dressed in a burgundy colored evening gown with golden stilettos and accessories as I ascend the steps of the Bolshoi Theatre. The guards at the entrance take a cursory glance at my invitation before directing me on where to go.

Once inside, it is easy enough to find my mark and strut over to where he is seated at the bar. After ordering a drink and an hour of flirting, one of Ivanovich's men walks over to whisper in his ear. He gives a short nod before turning back to me with a simpering smile. "It would seem the main attraction of the evening is about to start. Would you like me to escort you, gorgeous?" he asks in his thick Russian accent.

"I would be honored, handsome," I answer with a coy smile, hooking my arm through his as he leads me across the room and to a side door, hidden behind a curtain. We walk down a long hallway, my heels clicking on the polished marble floor until we reach a large, dome-shaped room filled with people dressed in their finest suits and dresses milling about the room as they peruse the items up for auction.

We had already circled the room twice when a guard bursts in shouting that SHIELD was on their way just before a flashbang went off and people dressed in black tactical gear flooded into the room.

"Follow me!" I yell at Ivanovich, pulling him behind me to the hidden door along the wall closest to us, then through another series of hallways until we reach outside of the building where a car was waiting for us.

Once in the car, I hand him a glass of vodka, which he downs immediately. Barely five minutes have passed before he is slumped over in his seat, snoring loudly. I direct the driver to turn around and drive to the American Embassy while I put Ivanovich in a pair of vibranium handcuffs, then turn to look out at the snowstorm raging outside the window.

After Maria had taken custody of the Raft's newest guest, I head back to my hotel room to change clothes, pick up my bags, and make for the airport. I had called ahead to tell the captain to get the plane ready for departure. However, when I get to the airport, all flights had been delayed indefinitely due to the storm.

With a disheartened sigh, I find a cafè and buy myself a large hot chocolate and a croissant. Sitting at a small table in the corner, I take out my phone and unlock it, staring at the picture of Steve and I with our arms wrapped around each other at Tony's Halloween party last year. We had gone as Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf. I briefly contemplate calling him to let him know I probably wouldn't be back in time for Christmas before a voice opposite me draws my attention.

"Excuse me, miss, but is this seat taken?" says the one voice I would recognize anywhere. Whipping my head up, I'm face to face with Steve. He looks angelic, bundled up in a blue and white sweater with a white t-shirt and light wash jeans with boots, his cheeks, and nose a rosy red from the cold wind outside.

"Steve!" I squeal as I hop out of my seat to throw myself into his arms.

"Hey, gorgeous," he grins as he wraps his arms around me, burying his face in my hair. "Fuck, I missed you so much," he mumbles.

"Language, cap," I tease while burying my face in his chest, breathing in the smell of home. After several long moments of just quietly standing together, I hesitantly pull back far enough to see his face. "I don't understand what are you doing in Russia of all places? I thought you would be home by now."

"Well, by the time the mission was over, the storm had already closed down the airport where I was supposed to take off. The guy at the office told me I might have better luck getting a flight at a larger airport. I was planning on grabbing a coffee before trying my luck at one of the airline desks when I saw you sitting here. What are you doing here?" he asks, delicately cupping my cheek as if to check that I'm real.

"I had a mission here. I was supposed to be a tourist, so Tony let me borrow one of his private jets. I was about to go home, but the plane was grounded because of the storm," I explain.

Over the next few hours, we sit in the cafè, sipping hot chocolate and just talking while we wait for the storm to pass. It's nearly midnight when I get a call from the pilot that they had been cleared to fly. Grabbing our luggage, Steve and I make a mad dash for the plane. Once we're on board, the stewardess closes the door and helps us get settled before telling the pilot that everything is ready for takeoff.

We reach New York just as the sun is starting to set. Happy is at the airstrip to pick us up and take us back to the compound, where the rest of the team and their loved ones are already gathered, for dinner.

When we stroll into the dining room hand in hand, Tony cheers, "The lovebirds are back! Now Capsicle can carve the turkey so we can eat," he grins while the rest laugh, and we take our seats at the table filled with our family.

Tags:

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[heli0s-writes]

winter dreams

Summary: Six months after a perfect summertime kiss, you see him again in time for the new year. Music: Death Cab for Cutie - I Dreamt We Spoke Again

Pairing: Reader/Bucky

A/N: 2.1k words. Pining & Soft Bucky. Holiday fluff.  TW: references to cancer

A follow up to summer skin but it’s not necessary to read it first. This was written for @sourpatchkidsandacokecan​​‘s Merry Kismet Writing Challenge. Thank you so much for hosting! The prompt is “You owe me a kiss.”

It’s cold.

December reaches your childhood home in disappointing periods of drizzling rain hitting windowpanes, fogging the insides gray with the house’s heat. Brief winter winds ice the city, never quite enough to flurry like how it did in New York.

Yet somehow, it feels colder here.

You bundle up all over when it sinks into your bones. Blankets and two pairs of wool socks, knitted hats and gloves indoors, still rattling, falling lovesick and not participating in festivities.

Your sisters chide the melancholy, ask you to cheer up, tell you it’s the most wonderful time of the year incoming. Tinsel and allspice, brown sugar candles and the crisp snap of pine. A real tree propped up by the fireplace, topped by a burning red star.

You miss him.

The ornament glows his sigil and, you miss him.

Miss his eyes. His hands. Miss his damn shadow.

Thanksgiving had tasted like wet sand. The turkey and cranberries a mush of pulp. Basting and seasoning, rosemary and garlic, rubbing all manners of things down with butter… and in the end, no matter how you tried, the last six months crumbled like ash in your mouth.

Your father’s illness and subsequent recovery bloomed relief but it was still too soon. There was one more round of radiation and then, it would be over. The cloak of death could finally be ripped down, hung up elsewhere to shrivel and flee; he’d finally be free of cancer.

Six months after sweltering summer kisses on a dock and you were still sick with longing for Bucky. He calls rarely because your civilian life can’t bleed into your hero life; you��re the only one with family—the only one with a possible hostage situation.

Two conversations, maybe. With his low timbre saying hello. Don’t know when I’ll see you, but I’ll dream of you until I do. And the sadness in your gut volleys into hope—careens itself into balmy spring and the taste of his tongue on yours. The only reprieve you receive is in darkness, when you might be lucky enough to find him under a clear June sky, the two of you meeting in the middle of a midnight yearning.

The days between Christmas and New Years smear together. A foggy mess of unknown hours and habits, waking and sleeping all blurring into some kind of purgatory overcrowded with glazed ham leftovers and candles with names like Twisted Peppermint and Merry Berry.

A steaming mug is slid over the frosted windowsill on the 30th. Your youngest sister plops down on the sofa seat with a hum, pulling striped red and green sock encased knees up to her chest. Mind-reading. That connection between siblings.

“You go.” She states casually, and it takes you by surprise. “Dad’s doing well. You go. World needs you and all.”

Under a heavy quilt, you’re already quivering with preemptive heartbreak. A sip of your drink and the beginning of a protest before she puts up her hand, “We’ll be fine.” Then, a smirk and a roll of her eyes, “Figures. You finally fall for a guy and he’s probably Captain America.”

You bite your smile down and stay silent.

-

Voicemail. Even the automated tone repeating his phone number before the shrill beep gives you butterflies. War drums echoing from your chest. The practiced message you ran through your head sounds stupid no matter how many times you rehearse it. No matter how many times you’ve dreamt of him and this moment.

“H-hey... I, uh, I’m heading to the compound. Uh. Well, I think I’ll be there in time for tomorrow night’s party. Can’t wait to see you, Buck.”

A string of the dumbest syllables ever known to man.

-

The commons room is aglow when you arrive. Soft and brilliant in orange and yellow, warming up the darkness of dimmed lights. There are at least three trees on your way in, lit up with gold, then blue, then silver for the third, overflowing with ribbon and sparkling garland. Hand-blown glass ornaments refract a rainbow array of hues. There is fake snow in a trail flanking the velvet red carpet running inside, shaped meticulously so that it imitates a snowbank to perfection. Soft music hums from deeper in, harps and violins, and the smell of the fireplace crackling spiced woody notes soothes your bones.

Pepper’s outdone herself heralding in the New Year. You’ll have to apologize for dripping water all the way in, pelted by snow and shuddering head to toe.

It’s flurrying in New York, alright. Your chattering teeth are a testament to the temperature.

Natasha’s the first to see you by the entrance. A raise of her champagne class and you grin shyly, stepping in, wet boots tracking to the bar. Steve beams and rushes across the room, nicking off his conversation with a fan in the middle, throwing his arms around you for a hug.

“He’s in D.C.—does he know you’re— Christ, where’s your coat?"

You shake your head and quiet your trembling as you take in Steve’s pressed denim shirt and his slacks and hair neatly combed to one side. Clean shaven and handsome, twinkling eyes as he holds tight. Your shoes are dripping onto his and you chuckle, “I forgot it—too eager, I suppose.”

The gown you pulled on at the airport is an old one—silvery lavender with thin trails of sparkling tinsel. Worn once during an undercover mission near New Mexico and then hung up to sway limply in your sister’s closet because it was too beautiful to discard even though it smelled like gunpowder. The excitement of your arrival was too pressing that you’d forgotten the right shoes. Boots it is—black and clunky, the kind you’d prefer to have on in a fight.

“He’ll be mad you’re not dressed for the weather.” A silly grin as if Steve’s hiding a secret. Then, a single raise of his sandy brow as he looks down. The gossamer hem a darker purple as it sways over your shoes. “But maybe you can go barefoot for tonight.”

-

Sam is elated when he arrives, pulling you into a spin before his hand clasps onto yours and he sways all the way to the middle of the dance floor. It’s like you never left as he chatters on, making you laugh and cry, his steps goading the band to play faster accompaniments.

Three songs in and you’re reminded of how tired you are from the trip. Your feet are freezing on the tile and so you lead Sam to the couches, accepting a drink from Natasha’s hand before leaning into her, tingling toes tucked beneath your thighs. She plays with your hair, rubs your shoulder, and whispers that it hasn’t been the same without you.

“I remember this dress. We got into some trouble that mission.” And you know that look even without seeing it. Half-smirk, eyebrow up, the Natasha trademark.

You laugh at the memory. Gunpowder from her Beretta and the skirt hiked up to reveal your own pistol strapped tightly to your thigh. Beneath it had been a knife. Overkill, you’d thought, but it came in handy anyway.

“James will appreciate your sentimentality.”

The two of you had played lovers, and it was easy slipping into the role. Your heart flutters at the memory and how nervous you had been when his hand caressed yours at the auditorium entrance. He had bent over and whispered that you looked beautiful, and you snorted in return—a broken noise of disbelief.

“We missed you.” Natasha blows into your ear playfully, “You won’t believe how annoyingly long he sulked. If he’s not here at midnight, you’re getting a kiss from me.”

“Woah. I’m gonna kiss her.” Sam protests, leaning forward dramatically.

You turn to Steve with a grin, waiting for his bid but he only puts his hands up, palms faced outward. “Not me. I’m not trying to get into any fights with Buck. Had enough of that for a while, if none of you remember.”

A few more minutes of chatting and you dismiss your friends, shooing them back to their company and unwilling to take up any more of their time.

New Year’s Eve and you certainly can’t be the most interesting person here, you say. Check out the band, gosh, there’s a celebrity—and Tony, sweeping in with gusto to shoot a comment about how he didn’t even notice you were back but that your room is still in pristine condition, if you were wondering.

And you weren’t, but you thank him anyway with a wink.

11:50 and the back wall is glaring a projected image of the NYC ball drop. You stifle a yawn behind your hand, leaning over the couch lazily. Guests come and go, welcome you back, and you’re always a little startled when another stranger flits by to say hello and thank you. Everyone blurs together in a rush of sparkling cream gowns and silk suits.

11:55 and your eyes are shuttering close, cheekbone resting upon your palm.

11:58 and a hand is skimming up your arm, softly prodding, but you’re too tired to move.

Cheers and whoops. It’s so loud. Music crescendoes, Natasha placing a peck on your cheek along with a blanket over your shoulders and you reply with a wilted little smile. Then, you return to a familiar sweetened coffee black dream of someone tall and soft-spoken.

-

You jolt from the stupor with a gasp. The room has emptied and darkened, only lit by the soft glow of the projector spinning starry images. The blanket from your shoulders has slipped off some time ago, gathering to pool at your feet. Blinking sluggishly, you realize you’re no longer leaned against your palm on the edge of the couch.

Dusky pine and leather. Faint cool aftershave and the vital heartbeat of warm boy. Something heavy and buttery soft draped over your previously cold shoulders.

Another dream.

Yet, it feels more corporeal than ever before and the drumming in your chest strikes a thrilled beat. Your hands wildly pat him up and down, drawing forth his sweet laugh at your antics. You don’t stop, though, running up the neoprene vest, the straps buckled over his torso, his strong jaw and chin. Then hair, those long chestnut strands lightly curled at the edges, grown a little longer and tucked loosely behind his ears.

“Bucky?”

“Yeah, honey.”

You bristle in disbelief, distracted by the realization with some embarrassment that you’ve been sleeping on top of him for who knows how long.  Stupid syllables stuck like caramel chews in your mouth, welding your teeth together in a solid disappointment. After spending six months dreaming about seeing him again, now you’re finally here and you’ve got nothing to say. Bucky lifts his chin to place atop your head, pressing kisses down and chills race to your fingertips and toes.

“Nat said she kissed you at midnight,” Bucky muses, and you can just hear him smiling how he does when he thinks he’s done something clever. “And what about me? You owe me a kiss, unless you’re all done with kissin’ for the night?” His gloved finger traces your chin, thumb pad rubbing over your nose, lifting your gaze until you’re staring up into his eyes.

Blue, blue, blue, like milky ways dipped in a cerulean sea. Behind his head the cosmos continue to spiral, outlining him in silver and starlight. He is beautiful in the night, brighter than suns. You want to sob and say Bucky, Bucky, if I’m sleeping don’t wake me.

Cheekiness snuffs itself out as he tilts his head with a smile, eyes roaming over your expression curiously. A statement begins in the silence of his thumb caressing your cheek, then brow, then making a path down to your bottom lip, skimming over the edge.

He punctuates it with a press of his mouth to yours. Hand moving to latch onto your jaw, then neck, then cradling your head between two and your heart hurdles all the way to the finish line.

“Missed you.” He murmurs, “Missed you a lot.” Licks to your lips and you vaguely wonder when he learned how to sweep you completely off your feet. Bucky tugs on the lapels of his jacket around your shoulder, crushing your torso to his. After six months of longing and anguish, you could float away if he wasn’t holding on so tightly.

“You look beautiful. Always thought so.” Fingers rub the lavender tulle and he smiles. You didn’t believe him then, the night Bucky complimented you and yanked the knife from its strap. “Like a dream.”

Now, you know he means it.

“Happy New Year, honey.”

Bucky pulls you fully into his lap, solid beneath your hands and flush against your torso. Real. Real. Real.

Winter rages on outside. Wrapped up in him, here, now, finally, you’ve never felt warmer.

“Happy New Year, Bucky.”

-

perm tags:  @whothehellisbucky​​​ @serpentbaby​​​ @badassbaker​​​ @alagalaska​​​ @cake-writes​​​ @crist1216​​​ @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan​​​ @infinity-saga​​​ @jamesbarnesthighs​​​ @pinknerdpanda​​​ @xoxabs88xox​​​ @imsoft-barnes​​​ @momc95​​​ @typicalangel​​​ @wretchedgoddess​​​ @readeity​​​ @iwannasail​​​ @ya-lyublu-tebya​​​ @geeksareunique​​​ @wildefire​​​ @satanxklaus​​​ @jhangelface0523​​  @wkemeup​

[writingwhywhywhy]

Everybody Lives

A/N: It’s for my fix-it square on my Bingo Card. Main two ships are Hope x Landon and Josie x Rafael. I mean everybody lives. Also too many ships to list them all. It is a literal everybody lives! Like everybody, everybody. So many living characters. BTW Happy Thanksgiving!

Hope was a bit nervous introducing Landon to her family. He would have to face her very overprotective father Niklaus, which is more than most people could ever hope to survive. Which would be fine if that would have been the end of the line, but that was the start. Her stepmother Cami, her uncle Elijah, and aunt Rebecca were also fiercely protective of her. Her mom and stepfather Jackson would make that group seem extremely laid back. Unfortunately for Landon, they weren't going to be laid back.

It's not that her aunt Gia, aunt Davina, aunt Freya, aunt Keelin, uncle Marcel, or uncle Kol hated her. They just knew how to be real people. Her little cousin Nik loved everyone, but that was generally the game with 2 year olds. Now Grandma Mary would be the wild card. She made up her mind about everyone she met two seconds after meeting them. That's why Mary loved Hope, but hated every other Mikealson. It would be a steep uphill climb if Landon fell on her bad side.

The person she felt the worst for was Rafael. First he had to show and deal with Lizzie, who he had turned down to date Josie. Then he had to deal with Stefan Salvatore, step dad to both of the twins and already not his biggest fan. That would be bad enough, but some magic brought back Josette Laughlin fully in the flesh. Josette almost made Niklaus seem under protective of Hope compared to how overprotective she was of her two girls. The only thing he had going for him was the fact he got into Salvatore School for the Young and Gifted, which was not much. Caroline and Alaric might take up for him because of that.

She wished her and Josie had at least talked about when they would force their boyfriends through these ordeals. If they had planned it out, maybe their boyfriends could've had their brothers with them during their trials. A cornered werewolf and a cornered phoenix couldn't cause too much trouble right? Before Hope could truly ponder this, she got a call. "We messed up." A frantic Josie said.

"We could try and cancel." Hope said without belief.

"We would have a better chance of throwing both of our families together." Josie joked.

"At least Rafael has a manageable amount of people to meet." Hope countered.

"Well Elena and Damon decided to join in the family fun." Josie announced.

"You know what, let's just make these disasters one big one." Hope decided.

"Hope I was joking." Josie panicked.

"Look, it's not like everyone is easy to kill." Hope tried to sway her.

"But…" With that stumble Hope knew that Josie had no defense.

"It's a great idea. We change places instead of canceling. We have what a day?"

"I have 18 hours and 39 minutes." Josie corrected

"Look, that gives us plenty of time to pick a place halfway between Mystic Falls and New Orleans! Landon and Rafael can have each other's backs. Our families might just be too busy trying to kill each other to notice those two." Hope tried to convince both of them.

"Fine." She was successful.

They found a nice enough place that could host that many people. They explained to both of their families they were changing venues to make their boyfriends a bit more comfortable. They did not give either family a warning that the other family would be there. They explained their crazy plan to both of their boyfriends, and both were relieved, worried, and terrified in equal measure. The four of them arrived early.

Like they had been in sync with each other, both families arrived at the same time. You could almost see the tension. Mary ignored it, and walked in. She went straight to Landon and Rafael. "I approve."  

Niklaus locked eyes with Hope and knew who did this. "So this is what all family gathers are going to be from now on." Alaric said.

"I am afraid so." Niklaus said, almost proud of what his daughter had done.

"We should definitely embarrass both of the girls as a bit of payback." Damon suggested.

After a quick exchange, there was a silent agreement between everyone. Both families entered and did their best to make the girls turn bright red, which they successfully did several times. They still managed to grill Rafael and Landon often. Looking in, they looked like  one big family. That day it would have been a mistake to call them a giant happy family, but a few years later it would be a very accurate description.

Tagging: @xxwritemeastoryxx​ and @akshi8278​

[kariachi]

So on Sunday my brain decided to throw Gwen/Mike/Kevin/Argit at me for some reason and today decided to continue with it, so.... Have a couple thousand word double feature.

~~

The house was smaller than the one Mike had been living in when they met, but just as if not more grand. Enough so that even Gwendolyn, nonetheless Kevin and Argit, had to stop as soon as they were out of the car to stare at its white stone walls, intricately paned windows, and the sheer amount of well-tended greenery and flowers. For all they had been told this wasn’t the normal place for family get-togethers due to being ‘not fit for hosting’, they simply couldn’t see it. It was still huge and gorgeous. No wonder Mike had been rolling his eyes when he said it. They couldn’t have been stood there gawking long before the front door opened to reveal a small woman dressed to impress.

“Mikey!”

“Monie!” And immediately Michael Morningstar- who in the three years since he’d gotten clean and the two he’d been a part of their little quartet had not engaged in displays of affection more grand than jewelry- bolted across the lawn, scooped the similarly excited woman up into a spin, and hugged her fiercely as soon as her feet had touched the ground.

“Remind me to get him to spin me at least once during this relationship,” Kevin grumbled as he and Gwendolyn rounded the car. “I don’t care if it happened right before he drops me into a volcano, as long as it happens.”

“Jealous, much?”

“Don’t be a hypocrite, Red. And stop scowling, she’s his cousin for fuck’s sake.” Something that was easier to tell as they came closer. There were plenty of differences- golden toned versus pink, tall versus short, blond versus grey, blue eyed versus green- but a few key features stood out. Their eyes were the same shape, they were of similar narrow build, and they carried themselves with the same proud bearing. The woman- Monie- stepped back as they approached, flashing them a toothy grin as Mike turned to present them.

“And these are my…” He goes quiet, mouth twisting and hand curling shut. They’ve never really worked out terms. Kevin and Gwendolyn were boyfriend and girlfriend, Kevin and Argit were partners, but Gwendolyn and Argit? Any of them and Mike?

“Yours?” his cousin offered in fond amusement. Mike nodded.

“Mine. Kevin Levin, Argit Levin, and Gwendolyn Tennyson.”

“Monette Morningstar,” she introduced herself, stepping around Mike and towards them. Gwendolyn stepped forward to offer a hand to shake, only to be wrapped in the same fierce hug Mike had gotten, and for Monette to quickly do the same to Kevin and Argit. “It’s a pleasure and an honor to have you here.”

“It’s a pleasure to be here,” Gwendolyn answered, still reeling a bit from getting a warmer welcome than she got from a fair chunk of her own family.

“We were beginning to think Sparkles was lying about having relatives,” Argit continued, “to make himself look better.” Kevin and Argit only had family in the Amalgam Kids and Cooper, who were always around, and they all were practically tripping over Tennysons, but Mike was the only member of his family he interacted with in their area, and the three times he’d gone to family events since they’d gotten together he’d insisted on going alone.

“Not surprised,” Monette said with a nod, “most of the others already hate you.” Gwendolyn snorted derisively while Kevin groaned beside her. They’d been warned the entire drive up, but still. “He doesn’t shut up about you, you know. Well, he hasn’t shut up about you since he was twelve-”

“Monie!” The woman kept her same easy, welcoming smile as he and Gwendolyn both went red around the edges.

“-but he’s even worse now. Shame, it would’ve been so fun to see him just drop you all on the family at once.” Stepping forward, Mike scowled at her.

“I am not putting them through that,” he said with finality as Argit snickered.

“Of course not,” she replied, waving off the very idea. “It’ll still be the funnest holiday since you ran off.” With another flash of perfect teeth she gestured them towards the house, falling in behind the little group with light steps. “Now come on, lunch is all ready and you kids must be starving-”

~~~~~

~~~~~

They had claim over the master bedroom whether they wanted it or not, their hostess more willing to eat her own legs than to risk them being crowded in one of the smaller beds. Not that it was much of a concern. Kevin had always been a tactile man, Argit had been born for piles of people, and between them it wasn’t at all difficult to cram the four of them into a space smaller than they had available.

It just meant they got to stretch out a bit, was all.

Gwendolyn was taking up as much space as possible, her legs hanging off the side of the bed and her head on Kevin’s chest. Meanwhile Mike had pressed the whole of himself against Kevin’s other side, stretched over him just enough so he could hold a tablet in place for he and Gwendolyn to read the book on it together. Argit didn’t even bother with distractions, content to doze splayed out across the boys’ legs, tail wrapped around Gwendolyn’s wrist. This was the norm for them, and Kevin had long accepted his destiny to be a mattress, generally working on a project or a book over the others’ heads until one of them groggily forced him to set it aside and go to sleep.

He’d already set it aside himself tonight.

“So,” he said into the quiet, fighting back a smile, “are we just not going to mention the whole ‘mine’ thing?”

“Yes.” Ears twitching, Argit snickered.

“Good. I’d much rather hear about how you talk about us all the time.” Mike groaned, shifting forward to bury his face in long red hair.

“Gwendolyn, lovely, perfect Gwendolyn-”

“Sorry, it’d work with Kevin but you know I can’t shut Argit up.” She shuffled away, just enough that she could turn her head and crane up to plant a kiss on his cheek. “It was nice to hear though. You’re harder to get an ‘I love you’ out of than Argit.”

“Because I don’t love you, Red,” Argit cut in cheekily, as Mike heaved something between a huff and a groan, “I tolerate you for the men’s sakes.”

“Uh-huh,” she replied, fidgeting with his tail, “you keep saying that.” Beneath them, Kevin chuckled as he reached out to tug gently at a lock of blond hair.

“We love you too, Sparkles.” In response Mike just pulled away with roll of his eyes and a huff, as if he wasn’t going red for probably the fourth time just since they’d pulled into the drive.

“I hate you all,” he answered with far less bite than he likely intended, “and one day I’m going to eat you out of pure spite.”

~~~~~

~~~~~

The first day of their holiday was definitely the best one. A nice, if simpler than expected, lunch with Monette. Meeting Mike’s Uncle Hector (Zombozo. Mike’s uncle was Zombozo. Zombozo, who wanted to start over fresh because apparently his line in the sand was risking making things harder on his nephew.) They’d had fresh pasta and baked apples at dinner, spent the evening exchanging stories, watching movies, and looking at pictures of Mike from birth to his teen years. Pictures Mike assured them, with a pained expression, had not been gathered for this event. His cousin and uncle were just exactly the types to have them on hand.

Monette’s parents had shown up on the second day and things had started getting tense. They loved their daughter, that was evident from the first moment they’d arrived, but otherwise… Nobody could really blame them for being openly unimpressed by Hector- excepting the younger Morningstars, apparently- but they treated Mike the same way some of Gwendolyn’s relatives treated her. Loving, but with the sharp edge of impossible expectations. The rest received polite distance, like they were some fling Mike’d drug along rather than people he’d been with several years. Still, they managed a nice, if awkward, dinner, and sat up late listening to embarrassing stories of Monette and Hector’s childhoods. It wasn’t fun, but there were fresh desserts and the evening wasn’t any more painful than larger Tennyson gatherings.

The third day though, that was Thanksgiving proper, and it brought the rest of the family. The middle cousin, Teddy, and his fiancé. His parents. Great-aunt Winnie. And suddenly, like a curtain was flung open, you could see how Darkstar happened. You could even see how Zombozo started.

These people did not like mutants.

They did not like aliens.

They did not like bastard children.

It hurt to know that the two had been outnumbered for so long.

Dinner was beyond awkward. Passive-aggressive comments flew to a degree even Argit hadn’t seen before, and he made it his job to antagonize Gwendolyn’s mother’s family whenever they met. Both sides threw jabs back and forth- about people’s jobs, people’s diets (never before had Kevin been seen passive-aggressively giving someone food but the moment Winnie had said something about Mike’s appetite it had been war), people’s lifestyles, people’s taste in clothing. Nothing, it appeared, was off limits, with the exception of a single “while you’re around” comment batted at Gwendolyn that’d had Mike tensing on the other side of the table and Monette putting her foot down as hostess. What sort’ve jab it had been was unknown to the non-Morningstars in the room, but it took a good forty seconds for people to begin talking again after the snapped reprimand.

By the end of dinner nobody was in a good mood. There was a steak knife lodged to the handle in the far wall of the dining room, from where Kevin had lost his temper and flung it at Teddy’s head (in his defense, he had warned the table about making any more comments about his partners, and Monette treated it no differently than if he’d had the misfortune to drop it on the floor), Argit was muttering about “no wonder you didn’t bring out the good cutlery for these people”, Mike, Gwendolyn, and Hector evacuated the room as soon as it was polite to do so for their own mental health, and Monette had a smile on her face that was sharp enough to cut glass. It was amazing nobody (namely Winnie) had been thrown out a window and most likely that was only because they were really nice, presumably expensive, windows.

The rest of the evening didn’t even have the decency to be entertaining. Just a slog they got through with tight-lipped politeness and a healthy dose of passive-aggression before heading to bed- ignoring the pointed comments about ‘making’ Monette give up her room as they went. Mental and emotional exhaustion had them sleeping soundly, waking at first light. They stayed long enough for coffee, breakfast, and Mike to hug his proper family members goodbye before heading out before anyone could wake up enough to start in again.

They were an hour down the highway when Kevin pulled over.

“Okay, I’m saying it now,” he announced in a tone that brooked no argument, “Monie can visit anytime, your uncle is a maybe, but I am never sitting at a table with the rest of those fuckers again in my life.” The others nodded at Mike in agreement, though Gwendolyn at least had the decency to try to look sorry.

“You know,” he replied, honestly looking like a weight had been taken off his shoulders- and with how Gwendolyn could be about her own family it probably had been- “I think I can live with that.”

[bat-famzine]

Happy Thanksgiving to our followers in the US! We hope you can enjoy some hearty food and fun time with friends and family. 

How does the Batfam celebrate Thanksgiving? What are their favorite foods? Check out the incredible @preciousthingsareprecious‘s take on a Batfam Thanksgiving celebration below the cut! Don’t forget to preorder a copy of the  zine here to read more of her work, as well as amazing art and writing from our other contributors!

Jason’s attention was split. A small speaker rested on the counter behind him, the rising and falling voice of a narrator flowing from it as they read The Andromeda Evolution to the room. Below him on the counter he worked dough, kneading it with growing confidence. His apron, the counter, and the floor were all dusted with flour, spread in a mess he was not looking forward to cleaning up. 

As the narrator moved into a long technical explanation Jason’s mind wandered back to the dough under his palms. It had been a long time since he’d made rolls from scratch, or any bread beyond quick easy ones-- like those that were just a batter thrown in a loaf pan and baked-- so he’d been nervous when he’d decided that if he was going to do this, he’d do it right. Still, his hands and arms remembered the repetitive push and pull of working the dough, even if the last time he’d done it was when he’d been a kid. 

When he’d lived at the manor, it had become somewhat of a tradition for Jason to help with the rolls. He figured Alfred set him to them because kneading took such energy, but he’d loved it all the same. He loved cooking in general. More than that, he’d loved that it seemed to bring everyone together. He and Alfred, and then on holidays where there was much to be done, Bruce would join them for the easier tasks and chatting. 

He smiled at those memories, holidays had been much quieter when he was Robin than what he was expecting today. The family had grown so much since then. 

His smile turned down and he rolled his eyes, they were all still idiots though, nothing would change that. If not, he’d be in the kitchen at the manor helping Alfred cook and not settled into his own apartment with far too little counter space for all his needs. 

The narrator moved from their technical description back to the team in the jungle and Jason let thoughts of family past and present fall away as he listened. He rolled the dough into a loose ball and moved to get his greased bowl, depositing the dough into it, and covering the whole thing with a towel before setting it aside to rise. 

As Jason set it down, the doorbell rang. He tapped pause on the app playing the book and wiped his hands on his apron before moving to the door. When he opened it a burst of chilly air washed over him. 

“Heya, Squirt.” Jason said to a somewhat anxious looking Damian standing at his doorway. 

He scowled at the nickname, anxiety falling away as his obligation to be irritated with any name beyond his given taking precedence over worries. His arms were crossed across his chest against the cold, making him look small and alone in the doorway. 

Jason stepped back, smiling at the kid, “Come on in.” 

Damian hurried inside, and stopped short, looking around the apartment utterly bedecked in pumpkins, leaves, and crackling candles. Jason let his grin grow at Damian’s surprise. 

“What, did you think I’d invite you over for Thanksgiving and not roll out the red carpet?” 

Damian turned on him, “I was under the impression that most people do not decorate for Thanksgiving.” 

Jason shrugged, closing the door, “I’m not most people. Besides, it’s not every day I’m the one having family over for a holiday.” 

“Then you did not only invite me?” It was a question, sharp enough to say he knew the answer. 

He wagged a finger at Damian, and moved back towards the kitchen, calling over his shoulder, “Come on, I didn’t have you come early so you could loiter at the door.” 

“Todd.” Damian demanded, stomping after him, “What kind of plan have you cooked up this time?” 

Jason was already busy, pulling an assortment of fruit out of the fridge to set on one of the counters, “I’m going to need to you slice all of this into bite size bits for the fruit salad.” 

“Jason.” 

It was the use of his name, and the worry in Damian’s voice that made Jason turn his full attention onto his youngest brother. The anxious look Damian had on his face when he’d been at the door was back, more obvious this time than last. 

“If you have invited everyone then I will not be able to--” 

“Stop that.” Jason said, interrupting him, “This is why it’s me hosting this year, because you lot all got it in your heads that it would be better if everyone celebrated without you.”

“You lot?” Damian asked, brows knit, “Do you mean to say that I was not the only one to have claimed alternate plans to Father?”

Jason nodded. He’d called Alfred a week ago to confirm Thanksgiving plans and see when he was expected to arrive and learned that everyone had mysterious ‘other engagements’. A few calls later and Jason had learned that each and every one of his siblings had opted out of the holiday festivities in an attempt to make the day better for someone else, leaving Bruce and Alfred alone. The lot of them were self sacrificing to a fault. On Thanksgiving of all days. The idiots. 

“Thanksgiving is about family.” Jason said, tossing an apple at Damian, “Peel those before you slice them,” he added three more to the growing stack of fruit on the counter, “Family and time spent being thankful you’ve got them in your life, and I’m not letting any of you skip out because we’ve all got the conversation skills of rocks.” 

Damian still hadn’t moved, apple cradled in his hands, “If I had known...I did not wish Father and Pennyworth to be alone.” his voice was tight, slightly strained like he was fighting with emotions. 

Jason moved over to him and put a hand on his shoulder, “It’s alright. It’s sorted and everyone’s coming over.” he grinned at Damian, “Alfred and I will make sure of that. I’ve got the adults bringing stuff, so pull your weight and help me out.” 

They worked in tandem, Damian following Jason’s instructions as he gave them, and showing a lot of promise in the kitchen. Jason made a mental note to have the kid help him more often when the opportunity presented itself. To avoid too much silence Jason switched the book on his speaker to something he knew Damian was interested in. They listened and worked together as a new voice filled the room, spinning tales of fantastic events. 

When another knock at the door resounded above the narrator’s voice, Jason paused it. 

“That’ll be Dick. Get the door for me?” he said, checking on now risen dough. 

He smiled to himself as he heard Dick’s surprised exclamation and rolled his eyes at Damian’s playful complaints of being “worked to the bone”. The two chatted with animated voices while Jason finished rolling individual rolls and setting them aside for their second rise. He turned just in time for Damian to lead Dick into the kitchen, the man carrying a large bowl of mashed potatoes. 

“Now I see why you told me to bring enough for ten.” he said, grinning, “What’d you do, team up with Alfred to plot all this?” 

Jason grinned at him and winked, making Dick choke on a laugh, “I should have known. Careful or you’ll be hosting every year.” 

It was a warning Jason wasn’t sure he’d heed. Even with the few of them there, the feeling of the day was warm and comforting. He found himself looking forward to the chaos sure to fill his little apartment in a way he hadn’t looked forward to anything in a long time. 

Everyone else filtered in slowly after that. Tim, Cass, and Steph came together having bumped into one another on the way bringing drinks and stuffing. Then Duke with a casserole looking much like something Alfred had made. 

People milled around, Tim hijacked Jason’s speaker and started playing music, and Damian (now protective of the kitchen and his place helping) shooed out anyone trying to sneak an early bite of dinner. It was a tight fit in Jason’s apartment, but comfortable. And everyone was smiling, despite all the worries of “If I’m here I’ll fight with them” and “It would be more peaceful if I did not come”. Jason fully expected some kind of spat to happen at some point, but what was a family gathering without a little bit of mess?

Jason left his youngest brother stirring the gravy to greet Bruce and Alfred when they arrived. Each carried one of Alfred’s famous pies. Alfred had a delighted twinkle in his eye and Bruce looked startled but happy. 

“I never doubted you for a moment.” Alfred said, patting Jason on the shoulder before taking Bruce’s pie from him and moving to the kitchen to leave them together. 

When they were alone Bruce cast his eyes around the group, “You got everyone together?” 

“Alfred helped.” Jason said. 

“But you spearheaded it.” 

Jason shrugged, at a loss for words. Which was silly, it wasn’t like he’d done anything huge or dug them out single handedly from rubble or something. He’d just tricked everyone into coming over for Thanksgiving dinner. 

“Thanks.” Bruce said, and tugged him into a hug, “It’s good to have everyone together.” 

“Don’t get me wrong, Old Man.” Jason said clearing his throat of the sudden tightness there, “Alfred threatened not to bake at all if the whole family didn’t come.”

This made his dad laugh, “Nothing motivates like Alfred’s pies.” 

“We should try bribing criminals with them.” Jason said. 

“Todd!” Damian’s head poked from the kitchen, his nose was smeared with what could be either mashed potatoes or whipped cream, “Your assistance is required in the kitchen.” his eyes caught onto Bruce, “Oh, hello, Father.”  

“Damian.” Bruce nodded, “You’ve got a bit of uh.” he motioned to his nose. 

Damian’s eyes just about crossed to look at his nose before he wiped a hand across it, “It is Drake’s fault. Both of you come, or the whole meal will be ruined.” 

Jason waved him back in, and turned back to Bruce, “That’s our cue, ready to go save the day?” 

Bruce nodded, “Lead the way.” 

[stop-talkingg]

Our favorite uses for pot butter

What is pot butter?

Cannabutter or weed butter is the item that is made by blending cannabis and butter. The cannabis/marijuana plant is widely understood for its many medical advantages and its psychoactive effects.

 How to make cannabutter…..The lingering concern must be, how do I make Cannabutter?

 There are two types of infusions, specifically;

 Full-spectrum infusion

The process involves mixing the entire marijuana plant with all its cannabinoids (THC, CBD, CBC, CBG, CBN), terpenes, and flavonoids with the butter.

 Extract or isolate infusion

It involves utilizing isolated CBD or THC or both in a recipe.

 What can I make with the Cannabutter once it is made? What are its usages?

Once you make your Cannabutter, you can integrate it into your meals throughout the day. A few of the food/ snacks you can make with Cannabutter consist of;

  Popcorn

Planning to have a relaxing and fun movie night? Why not try some popcorn laced with weed? To make this snack, include Cannabutter after the popcorn is ready and hot. Mix well and serve

 Nachos cheese

Nachos is one of the most common snacks in America. Take the delicacy a notch greater by making cannabutter cheese dip sauce.

Take the Cannabutter and mix with flour and stir under low heat, add milk, and lastly cheese. The thick mix made is best to couple with nachos.

 Ice cream

How about Some cold treats with a 'high' twist throughout hot summers? Making highly powerful ice cream is possible with just a couple of steps. Mix the Cannabutter with the sweetened condensed milk and include your favorite taste. Freeze for about 6 hours. Enjoy!

 Tea

Start your day with some cannabutter- instilled tea. Boil a cup of water, include some cannabutter, and finally put your teabag of choice. You can likewise spice the tea with some cinnamon, tea, or honey.

 Pasta

Promote your taste with some pasta cannabutter. It is easy to prepare. Take your Cannabutter and melt it, add all your spices ingredients, and put the mix aside.

Boil your pasta, and as soon as it's all set, drain all the water. Mix the pasta and the cannabutter-seasoning blend.

 Weed-infused turkey

Go big throughout the Thanksgiving season and treat your family and friends to this traditional delicacy. It is made by making the stuffing with Cannabutter and continuously rubbing it inside the turkey's skin.

 There are numerous ways in which you can incorporate the Cannabutter in your cooking. In fact, why not end up being a pioneer and make your recipes? Take the bold action, make your Cannabutter today, and enjoy the endless possibilities.

 How to determine the potency of your Cannabutter

Take a half or quarter teaspoon of the Cannabutter and taste. Evaluate the effects to know the amount that is enough to attain your preferred outcomes.

 Benefits of Cannabutter

The low heating approach of making Cannabutter permits the conservation of full-spectrum substances like cannabinoids, terpenes, and flavonoids. Cannabinoid like THC, CBC, CBN, and CBG have been associated with a myriad of health advantages like;

 Much better sleep-- THC has, for a very long time, been related to improved sleep for clients suffering from general or pain-associated lack of sleep. A combination of CBD and THC works better in dealing with sleeping disorders.

 Combating queasiness-- battling nausea was among the first advantages discovered about marijuana. Cannabinoids THC and CBD discovered in the plant are related to this benefit since they communicate with the human cannabinoid system responsible for a host of bodily functions.

 Managing and treating cancer - not only do cannabinoids help relieve cancer signs, however they likewise battle cancer by hindering cancer cells' growth.

 Discomfort relief-- patients that experience moderate or chronic pain experience relief that lasts much longer due to the long-lasting results of taking in edibles made from Cannabutter.

 It offers a much safer and healthier alternative for consuming cannabis. Smoking and vaping marijuana has its reasonable share of unfavorable results. Ingesting weed in the form of edible makes it much more secure for our lungs and basic body health.

 Edible customers get to experience an unmatched cannabis experience with results that last for much longer than other ways of consuming marijuana like vaping or smoking cigarettes. Before the Cannabutter enters into the system, it needs to be digested and taken in into the blood stream through the intestinal walls, which may take about 1-2 hours to take effect.

 However, depending on age, metabolic rate, and quantity of weed consumed, the effects might last in between 4-12 hours. The butter binds the particles of THC to develop a higher strength level of the Cannabutter.

 It is straightforward to make and provides a specific with a more delicious option that can be used in countless recipes.

 Conclusion

 Tumblr blog names.... allcannabis relaSo now that you know what it is, how it is utilized, and the many advantages it provides, what is stopping you from making your Cannabutter? You are one step far from enjoying your weed in a tastier and much healthier type. Remember to constantly save the cannabutter in a safe place away from children's reach.

[nicolewoo]

All Along

Pairing: Joe Anoa’i X Reader, Roman Reigns X Reader

Warning: Talk of sex and an erection. Lots of cussing

I had been moved up to Smackdown a couple months ago. Becky was super excited to see me. We'd wrestled in Canada together years ago and had become great friends. Becky made it so easy to get to know everyone. She spent most of her time with Seth (I still wasn't used to calling him Colby), which meant that Joe (Roman) and I spent a lot of time together. We bonded almost immediately and were practically inseparable. When we weren't busy, you could always find us together. We were becoming the best of friends. We ate together, we hung out together, we were always hugging, touching and tickling each other. Most of the talent at WWE was physically affectionate, especially Joe who flirted with everyone, so I never thought anything of it.

When Smackdown ended up in Tampa for the Thanksgiving break, the four of us decided to host Thanksgiving at Joe's house for anyone who wasn't going home. That was about 25 people. Joe invited Colby, Becky and I to stay at his house. I offered to cook the meal, but since I was the only one who knew how to make Thanksgiving dinner, I was going to end up doing all the work. Joe decided that I deserve to relax and ordered dinner from a restaurant.

Everyone had a great time, laughing and joking. It warmed my heart to be able to host people who had nowhere to go for the holiday. Joe commented on it too. “We did good.” He said as he wrapped an arm around my waist and I nodded in agreement. Even though we ate at 4, guests stayed long into the night. Once the guests left, we began cleaning up the kitchen. I was putting the last of the dishes in the dishwasher, while the four of us talked.

Joe was on other side of kitchen, leaning over an butcher-block island nursing a scotch he'd poured a while ago. Colby and Becky sat on kitchen stools picking at he turkey leftovers before we put them away. Joe was telling the most embarrassing Colby stories he could think of, so Becky and I could hear.

“So we're sneaking into the arena late, because this dingbat had to order his double fluffy chai, soy, whatever coffee. We were trying not to get caught. All of a sudden, we turn the corner and Colby sees Vince. He freaks out and spills his fancy coffee drink all down my back.”

“Wait Wait Wait!” Colby stopped him. You can't blame that on me.” He turned to Becky and said, “There was a cat that darted out in front of me.”

“Yeah right! Nobody else saw a cat.” Roman said as he sipped his drink. “You were just scared of Vince.”

Colby protested, “I was not!”

“Either way,” Joe continued, “So now, I'm supposed to go in the ring to do this promo, but it flat out looks like I shit myself.”

At that, Becky broke into laughter and backhanded Colby in the stomach. “No!”

Colby joined in, “Dean just about fell over laughing. He's pointing at Joe's pants and saying it 'looks like you pooped yourself' over and over again.”

Joe chuckled, “Hey, that ended up working out in our favor. Vince got so concerned about finding me clean clothes, he never realized we were late.”

“You're kidding.” I chimed in.

“Nope.” Said Colby. “We got off lucky.” He emptied his glass of wine. “I'm going to go get another glass. Does anyone want anything?”

“I'll go with you,” Becky said.

That left just Joe and I in the kitchen. He looked at me for a minute still smiling from the story he'd just told. Then there was a dead moment in the conversation.

“I don't know how to start this dishwasher.” I said.

“I'll get it.” He came over and hit a few buttons and the woosh of the machine began. Joe turned around and leaned against the counter next to me. He put his arm around my waist and I leaned my head onto his shoulder.

“This was a fantastic idea. I think everyone had a great time.” He said softly to me.

“Yeah,” I agreed.

“Thanks for helping me host it. I couldn't have done it without you.” As a thank you, he pressed a kiss onto the top of my head.

I picked my head back up and looked at him. “Oh, you could have done it yourself.” I assured him.

He smiled big, turned to me and placed his hand on my cheek. “It wouldn't have been the same without you.” He paused for a second and his voice quieted down to almost a whisper. “I'm really happy you came to Smackdown. I appreciate your friendship so much.” His smile faded, and was replaced with an expression I'd never seen from him. Tentatively, he grazed his thumb over my cheek and brushed my lips with it, his eyes watching it trail over my lip.

In that instance, I panicked. Was this what I thought it was? Dare I hope? Joe's friendship meant so much to me, but I couldn't deny the ever growing attraction I had for him. I was trying desperately to figure out what to do when his thumb stopped on my bottom lip and pressed downward so my lips parted. He ran his thumb over my lip again the pad of it now covering the whole lip and leaving a trail of heat behind it.

“Joe,” I started to say, but before I could talk, he leaned in and pressed the most gentle, loving kiss on my lips. It took my breath away. He pulled back and looked at me. When he took a deep breath, I knew the kiss had affected him as much as it did me. I leaned in and kissed him, longer this time. His arms circled around my waist as I ran my hands over his back.

We both pulled away for a second, searching each other's eyes, trying to gauge how the other felt. When Joe leaned in again, it wasn't a soft gentle kiss. It was hot, passionate and full of need. My body blazed at the feel of him against me. I parted my mouth, and he slid his tongue in. He tasted so good.  He moaned as he deepened the kiss more, his right hand going into my hair, his body began pressing me up against the counter. I was overcome by desire, and I pressed harder against him trying to get closer.

We heard Becky's laugh and pulled apart from each other. Joe had a second to look into my eyes before Colby and Becky came in. When they did, he was beside me against the counter as if nothing had happened.

Everything in me was on fire, and I was sure they would notice the tension between Joe and me, but Becks was in the middle of a story when they came in. I looked over at Joe who was still a little breathless. I noticed his hand gently brush his pants to adjust to his semi-hard penis. I smirked at him and he smiled back.

“Guys, I'm beat.” Becky began. “Do you need any more help?” she asked.

Both of us tried to answer at the same time. “No.” he said at the same time I said “We've got this.”

“You two are hanging out together too much. You're starting to think alike,” Colby joked.

“I'm tired too.” Joe added. “I think I'll be right behind you.” He said as they bid us goodnight.

We listened as they walked away. I waited until I was sure they couldn't hear us. “Joe. What....” I started, but he turned to me and held me pressing his forehead to mine. His jaw tensed as he tried to fight his desire.

“I'm sorry. I....” He trailed off.

I placed my hand to his cheek as I pulled back a tiny bit to look into his eyes. I smiled at him warmly. “It's ok.”

“I can't hide my feelings any longer.” He kissed me again. “I'm crazy about you. I have been since the minute I saw you.” He whispered, his lips still on mine.

"Why didn't you tell me?”

“I didn't want to ruin our friendship.” He said lovingly. “What if you hadn't felt the same way?”

“But I do,” I looked up at him. “I have all along.”

That brought the biggest smile to his face, and that made me smile big too. He kissed me again, then wrapped me in a giant bear hug. Joe's hugs always made me feel so safe and so warm. “I'm so happy, baby girl.”

The pet name made me smile bigger. “Sooooooo what now?” I asked.

He was grinning ear to ear. “I don't know, but I really am tired. Maybe we should sleep on it.”

“I'm tired too.” I answered.

“Then why don't we go to bed.... separately, and figure out what the next step is tomorrow after Colby and Becky leave?” He smoothed a hand over my back.

I nodded. “That sounds great.”

Joe kissed me one more time as we paused in front of my bedroom door. “Night baby girl.”

“Goodnight.”

I went to bed with the hugest smile on my face. I couldn't believe all this time Joe liked me. I mean yeah, he flirted with me, but he flirted with everyone. My mind thought back to every hug, every time he held my hand, every time we'd snuggled together watching a movie...... all of the time we'd spent together trying not to let the other know how we felt. Wasted time. And now... now that I know... now that he knows.... He's just a few feet away from me. If I go to his room now, what would happen? What did I want to happen? What would he want to happen?  My brain wouldn't stop churning, no matter how tired my body was.

I slipped out of bed and paced my room for a minute; considering my options. If I did sneak into his room, I'd probably find him asleep. I could just curl up into his arms. Colby and Becky wouldn't have to know I was in there. I could slip back into my room before they saw me.

My body yearned for him, and my heart yearned too. I wanted to feel him beside me. Would I be able to just snuggle with him now that I know how he feels? What would he think if he woke up? Question after question rolled through my head, and I didn't have answers. I knew only one thing. I wanted to be close to him. I needed to be close to him. I slipped out of my bedroom and went to his. I expected to find him sound asleep snoring, but instead, the second I opened the door, he shot up in bed. He'd been awake too.

“Come here.” He said and pulled the covers back. I snuggled into his arms.

“I couldn't sleep. I wanted to be near you so bad.”

He smoothed his hand down my back. “Me too. I wasn't sure if I should go to you or not. I'm glad you came here.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Let's go to sleep.” I could feel his body relax in a matter of seconds and soon after, I heard a slight snore. I snuggled closer and fell asleep on his shoulder.

————————————————————————

A knock on the door woke us. I opened my eyes adjusting to being in Joe's bed. He smiled at me. “Lay flat.” He whispered with a giggle on his lips. He threw the covers over me and bunched them up a bit to hide me. Then he stuck a pillow over my head, causing us both to giggle more.

“Yeah,” Joe called out to the person at the door.

“Hey,” It was Colby. “Have you see Y/N? She's not in her room.” he asked peaking his head in the door. “Becks and I wanted to let her use the bathroom before we showered.”

“Nah, man. Maybe she went for a walk or something.” Joe said smoothing his hand over his face. I did my best to lay perfectly still.

Colby obviously didn't think there was any chance I was with Joe, and he didn't look for me me in the darkened room, so he didn't notice the lump in Joe's bed.

“She can use my bathroom if she needs it.” Joe replied. “Go ahead and shower.”

“Thanks man.” Colby quickly exited.

Once he was gone, I flung the pillow off my face and into Joe's. “What do you think you're doing, baby girl?” He quirked an eyebrow as he laid next to me. We both broke out in laughter; trying to stay quiet. He leaned in for a sweet kiss, a chuckle still on his mouth. “Good morning. How did you sleep?”

I stretched my legs out, “Once I came in here, I slept well. How about you?”

“Exactly the same here.” He smiled and kissed me again. “We should try to sneak you back to your room before Colby and Becks get done with their showers.”

I snuggled closer to Joe's chest. “I don't want to leave this bed. EVER.”

I expected another chuckle, but instead he hooked a finger under my chin and raised my face to look at him. “I don't either. Trust me! but we should.” He kissed the tip of my nose.

He was right. I knew that, but I wasn't going to leave his bed without one last kiss. I looked into his big brown eyes and ran my fingers through his hair as I moved toward him for a kiss. He leaned in and placed a sweet, tender kiss on my lips that quickly turned into something much deeper, much warmer, much more passionate. I ignored the feeling of his growing appendage as it brushed my thigh.

“I gotta stop.” He pulled away breathing heavily. He paused to catch his breath. “Can we have lunch here today? Take some time to talk?” He asked. I agreed, and he got up. Throwing a shirt on, he asked, “What are you going to tell them?” He nodded toward Colby and Becky's room.

I had already thought it out. “If I can get back to my room, I'll get dressed quickly and say I just got back from running errands.”

“So we're going to start lying to our friends?” He quirked an eyebrow and I felt a pang of guilt. My friends knew I hated lying. I detested it.

“Joe,” I got up and wrapped my arms around him. “Just for a few hours until we can talk. After we talk, I've got no trouble telling Colby and Becks about this.”

“Good point.” He placed his forehead to mine. “Meet you here at noon?” I agreed.

He brushed some hair behind my shoulder. “Go get ready, baby girl, before they are out of the shower.” He peeked out the door and confirmed the hallway was empty. I quickly slipped out of his room into mine.

———————————————————————

After working out, coming back to his house and showering, Joe and I finally settled down to eat and talk. There were a few awkward moments as we tried to figure out what to say.

“I... uh... like I said last night, I'm crazy about you. I want to be together with you.” He looked unsure of how to continue.

“What do you mean “together with” me?” It was a fair question. “Are we talking about sex, a relationship or what?”

“No. Not sex.. well, yeah, I want to have sex with you....” He looked down at the floor but peeked up at me. “I mean in time...uh....” He rubbed his hand over the back of his neck “when we're ready, but I want to date you.” He finally said.

That brought a smile to my lips and he perked up a bit, looking less scared. “I want that too.” I agreed.

He reached his hand across the table and held mine. “Do..... do we tell other people?” he asked.

I thought for a second before deciding, “We don't lie.” He smiled again. “Let's just go on like we are, and if someone asks, we tell the truth.”

“Baby, I get asked if we're dating ALLLLL the time.” He smirked at me. “It doesn’t help that I can’t keep my hands off you.”

I thought I saw a hint of a blush cross his face. “Do you want to handle this another way?”

“No. I'm just sayin'. If we do it your way, the whole roster will know by the second match.” He chuckled. “I seriously get asked all the time.”

“Babe, would you say we're best friends?” I asked.

“You know it, sweetheart.” He looked questioningly at me. “Why?”

“Well, if someone asks, and you don't want to talk about our relationship, you can truthfully tell them that we are best friends.” I smiled warmly at him as I ran my thumb over his knuckles.

“Good idea.” He said smiling warmly at me. “We're going to have to tell Colby and Becks though. You know that? After the show tonight?” He asked and I agreed. He got up from his seat and came to my side. “Are you done eating?” He reached for my mostly empty plate.

“Yeah. I'm full.” I answered.

He took both of our plates to the kitchen counter and came back to grab my hand. “Feel like watching a movie?”

“That sounds great.” I answered, standing up and letting him lead me to the couch. We snuggled close as we always did, but this time it felt so much more meaningful. It wasn't unusual for us to kiss each other's hands, cheeks, temples, but this time, I got to kiss his lips... the lips I'd thought of kissing so many times before. Each kiss though started a fire in me that was hard to suppress. In time... when we're ready he'd said earlier, and he was right. We had to wait until we were both ready.... no matter how much my body ached for him.

—————————————————————————

Becky stood with her arms crossed in front of her. She had a puzzled look on her face as she stared first at Joe and then at me. “What happened after we went to bed last night?”

“Nothing.” I answered with a straight face. “Why?”

“Well, for starters, you weren't in your room this morning. Now you told me you were running errands,” she began pacing a bit, tapping her finger on her bottom lip like she was a detective at Scotland Yard about to reveal the murderer in an old movie. “but I know that you would rather have a tooth pulled than to go shopping on Black Friday. Then we get here and you two are acting all weird.” She looked to Colby who shook his head in agreement.

“Weird? How are we acting weird?” Joe asked trying to hide a smirk.

“Normally you two can't keep your hands off each other. You're always hugging or snuggling....”

Colby chimed in. “But today... I don't think I've seen you two touch at all.” He looked back at Becky prodding her to agree.

She confirmed that we hadn’t touched. “Did you two have a fight or something?” Becky asked.

“No. We're good.” I couldn't hold my smile back as much as I wanted.

“OH HOHOHOHO!” Becky proclaimed when she saw my smile. She turned to Colby. “I know what's going on here. They finally fucked.”

Colby's eyes got wide in realization as mine got wide in embarrassment. “FINALLY!” He said.

“No!” Roman nearly yelled. “It's not like that.” He said standing to come to me. He wrapped his arms around me and kissed me sweetly. “No. I just couldn't hide my feelings for her any longer.” He looked deep in my eyes. After a second, Colby's proclamation registered in his head, and he turned to his friend. “What do you mean by 'Finally'?”

“The whole company's been waiting for you two to get your heads out of your asses and admit you like each other.” Colby said nonchalantly as he started digging through his bag for something. “Wait!” He turned his gaze to me. “Were you in Ro's room this morning?” I didn't have to answer, because of the shit eating grin on both Joe and my faces. “Where were you?” He asked me.

“Next to me in bed. I covered her up with pillows.” Joe admitted.

“So, you lied to us?” Colby looked upset and Becky looked flat out mad.

“We weren't ready to tell you guys, because we hadn't had time to talk about it.” Roman tried to calm them.

“You didn't have time?” Becks asked. “How about the hours you guys spent in bed together?”

“Becks... listen... nothing happened. We both fell asleep about 5 minutes after I climbed into his bed. We decided at lunch today that we wanted to be together and that we weren't going to hide anything.”

“And we decided to tell you guys tonight after the show.” Joe added. I nodded in agreement.

“Ok. Ok. Let's back this story up. What exactly happened last night?” Colby said, and Joe told him the story.

“Man, when you went to get more wine at the end of the night, I was thanking Y/N for her help, and telling her how much I appreciate her friendship.” He ran his hand over the back of his neck. “And I just couldn't stop myself. I kissed her.” 

“Then you guys came back and said you were going to bed.” I continued the story. “We decided to go back to our own beds, but I couldn't sleep knowing Joe was so close, so I threw caution to the wind and went to snuggle with him, and we fell asleep.”

“So this morning when I came knocking?” Colby asked.

“Dude, we didn't even know what we were doing. We had kissed a few times and snuggled. That's it.”

Becky's stern face stared at me for a minute before she walked up to me. I half wondered if she was going to hit me, but instead, she wrapped her arm around my neck and pulled me into a giant hug. “I'm so happy for you.” She reached her hand out to grab Joe's hand. Colby came over to congratulate Joe, and we all ended up hugging.

Check out part 2 here!

[easyfoodnetwork]

Eater Staffers Pick Their Favorite Ina Garten Recipes

Skillet-roasted lemon chicken | The Barefoot Contessa

Our editors know that if you can’t figure out what to cook or how, you can always turn to Ina

These days, Eater editors are eating out less and less, due to widespread restrictions on dining in and mandates nationwide to stay at home. That means we’re cooking a whole lot more, in addition to ordering delivery and takeout from places we love — and we’re also talking about cooking more than ever before.

Last week, we revealed the favorite recipes we all have from Deb Perelman from Smitten Kitchen, whose website and cookbooks have inspired devotion from all of us for years. This week, we turn towards another true source of inspiration, one we’re no less loyal to: Ina Garten. The Barefoot Contessa is not only a source for stunningly reliable, expertly-tested recipes; she’s also a beloved cult figure in her own right. She’s been a particular source of calm and humor over the past few weeks, such as when her charming video demonstrating how to make gargantuan cosmos during a crisis went viral. We love Ina for her catchphrases, her devotion to Jeffery, her disarming nature, her nonchalance as she casually asks us to shell out for three pounds of prepared lobster meat. But most of all, we love her for her (to use one of her own favorite adjectives) foolproof recipes. Read on to learn which ones have captured Eater’s attention over the years.

Skillet roasted lemon chicken: The oil-spattered pages in my copy of Cooking For Jeffrey tell how much I love this recipe better than words can. The chicken is always juicy and the tart pan sauce requires no extra effort beyond arranging your aromatics and pouring in some wine halfway through the roasting process. Ina’s headnote on the recipe begins “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve made this!” and honestly, same. — Adam Moussa, senior social media manager

Panzanella: I love to entertain and have my fabulous guests over with my effortless panzanella with tomatoes that are picked by my friends who own a giant acre of fresh tomatoes during summer. Crispy croutons, made with good bread, are tossed with juicy tomatoes with a generous drizzle of good olive oil. How easy is that? — James Park, social media manager

Tomato feta salad: I’m not a seasoned (sorry!) home cook. In fact, in the three years that I’ve lived with my boyfriend, he’s done all the cooking. I just pick up a pie and say I “made” dessert. That said, I’ve been getting into the habit of preparing better lunches — now more than ever. Ina’s tomato feta salad is great because it combines a lot of my favorite things, it’s easy to make, and it yields enough for breakfast the next morning. It also adds a pop of color to my plate, and that simple pleasure helps me through the day. — Esra Erol, senior social media manager

Roasted butternut squash salad with warm cider vinaigrette: Mostly on account of its sweetness, butternut squash has never been one of those ingredients that I get all that excited about, but as someone who has flirted with CSAs and vegetable delivery services over the years, I always end up finding myself in possession of one. This Ina recipe is the one that helped me find a way for squash to shine. The combination of flavors like maple, apple cider, and walnuts make it particularly appropriate for fall weather and the accompanying coziness; sometimes I go Extra Ina and pair it with her Indonesian swordfish (this marinade also works on chicken and kebabs). It’s also not a bad choice for a pretty Thanksgiving side — save yourself the labor and get pre-cut squash if you go this route. — Missy Frederick, Cities Director

The Barefoot Contessa [official site]

Ina’s roasted squash salad

Lemon capellini: This recipe is a great gateway into doing other things with pasta besides dumping jars of marinara onto it. It’s both satisfying and incredibly easy. Once you feel comfortable with building your own basic lemon-butter sauce, you can use the recipe as a base for any lemony pasta creation. For your first twist, I strongly recommend starting the pan with garlic and crushed red pepper for some heat. — Hillary Dixler Canavan, restaurant editor

Rack of lamb: Ina doesn’t have a blindspot, but in my opinion her true brilliance is in her weeknight meat recipes. She’s the master of simple roasts and stovetop braises that take the guesswork out of everything. I used to look at those Costco racks of lamb with fear, but Ina’s tight four-step recipe — from the “ don’t need to plan that far ahead” marinade to the somehow foolproof temperature guide — makes fancy rack of lamb easy enough to pull off any old Tuesday. — Lesley Suter, travel editor

Mulled wine: At some point over the holiday season, I have a big open-house style gathering — and Ina’s mulled wine is always the centerpiece. I make a big batch of it in the morning, which serves the dual purpose of setting up the booze situation and making my house smell amazing (as opposed to like unshowered writer and dog). Then I toss the wine in a crock pot and serve it all day, dumping in more Cab when it gets low. After 5 p.m. we usually toss a couple shots of brandy into the pot, too, which I guess kind of makes it into hot sangria? But then, no one’s quibbling about details like that. — Eve Batey, Eater SF senior editor

Raspberry baked french toast: Hosting large brunches — or breakfasts for dinner — is my favorite way to get people together. It’s fun and low-key, and I especially love that there are plenty of dishes that can be prepped in advance instead of needing fussy last-minute touches or more time in the kitchen instead of with guests. Baked French toast is an incredibly easy and always delicious staple, whether its on the table as an entree (with syrup) or as dessert (with syrup and ice cream). I love Ina’s raspberry baked version, which calls for fresh berries and diced day-old bread, and her French toast bread pudding, which needs slices of challah. These dishes are infinitely riffable, and both of these Ina recipes are great on their own or as a jumping off point. — Sonia Chopra, director of editorial strategy

Flag cake: I love to make Gartner’s flag cake from Barefoot Contessa Family Style, which could be especially fun if you have kids at home right now to help place blueberries on the stars background and raspberries on the stripes. Seriously, decorating this cake can take up an entire afternoon and should count as a credit for the long lost school subject of home economics. — Susan Stapleton, Eater Vegas editor

Ina Garten [Photo: Facebook]

Ina Garten’s flag cake

Perfect pie crust: Ina’s Perfect Pie Crust is my absolute go-to, holy grail pie crust. I’ve experimented with different crusts but this one takes the — ahem — pie. Five staple ingredients come together quickly in the food processor and can be used for any pie that requires a buttery, flaky blanket of perfection. Which is all the pies, duh. — Stefania Orrù, coordinating producer for Eater Video

Outrageous brownies: There could not be a better descriptor than outrageous for this brownie recipe — after all, it has a pound of butter and nearly two pounds of chocolate! But it’s all for good measure because you’ll be enjoying this massive portion of brownies for days to come. They keep really well, and Ina’s right when she says the instant coffee in here makes all the difference — it’s a tiny amount that gives a zippy balance to the decadent chocolate. — Tanay Warerkar, Eater NY reporter

Mocha Chocolate Icebox Cake: As someone who is not remotely talented at baking, this recipe is so easy to follow and the end result is a showstopper. I’ve made this recipe for multiple parties and everyone raves about it. It is boozy, full of chocolate and semi-homemade so it’s a win/win in my book. Added bonus: layers of Tate’s Chocolate Chip cookies! — Stephen Pelletteri, executive producer

Honorable mentions:

Herb-marinated pork tenderloin

Crispy mustard-roasted chicken

Buttermilk cheddar biscuits

Warm French lentils

Frozen key lime pie

Chipotle and rosemary roasted nuts

Palmiers

Rugelach

Scallops provencal

Roasted shrimp cocktail

Italian wedding soup

from Eater - All https://ift.tt/2JSWSDq https://ift.tt/2Xil0HE

Skillet-roasted lemon chicken | The Barefoot Contessa

Our editors know that if you can’t figure out what to cook or how, you can always turn to Ina

These days, Eater editors are eating out less and less, due to widespread restrictions on dining in and mandates nationwide to stay at home. That means we’re cooking a whole lot more, in addition to ordering delivery and takeout from places we love — and we’re also talking about cooking more than ever before.

Last week, we revealed the favorite recipes we all have from Deb Perelman from Smitten Kitchen, whose website and cookbooks have inspired devotion from all of us for years. This week, we turn towards another true source of inspiration, one we’re no less loyal to: Ina Garten. The Barefoot Contessa is not only a source for stunningly reliable, expertly-tested recipes; she’s also a beloved cult figure in her own right. She’s been a particular source of calm and humor over the past few weeks, such as when her charming video demonstrating how to make gargantuan cosmos during a crisis went viral. We love Ina for her catchphrases, her devotion to Jeffery, her disarming nature, her nonchalance as she casually asks us to shell out for three pounds of prepared lobster meat. But most of all, we love her for her (to use one of her own favorite adjectives) foolproof recipes. Read on to learn which ones have captured Eater’s attention over the years.

Skillet roasted lemon chicken: The oil-spattered pages in my copy of Cooking For Jeffrey tell how much I love this recipe better than words can. The chicken is always juicy and the tart pan sauce requires no extra effort beyond arranging your aromatics and pouring in some wine halfway through the roasting process. Ina’s headnote on the recipe begins “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve made this!” and honestly, same. — Adam Moussa, senior social media manager

Panzanella: I love to entertain and have my fabulous guests over with my effortless panzanella with tomatoes that are picked by my friends who own a giant acre of fresh tomatoes during summer. Crispy croutons, made with good bread, are tossed with juicy tomatoes with a generous drizzle of good olive oil. How easy is that? — James Park, social media manager

Tomato feta salad: I’m not a seasoned (sorry!) home cook. In fact, in the three years that I’ve lived with my boyfriend, he’s done all the cooking. I just pick up a pie and say I “made” dessert. That said, I’ve been getting into the habit of preparing better lunches — now more than ever. Ina’s tomato feta salad is great because it combines a lot of my favorite things, it’s easy to make, and it yields enough for breakfast the next morning. It also adds a pop of color to my plate, and that simple pleasure helps me through the day. — Esra Erol, senior social media manager

Roasted butternut squash salad with warm cider vinaigrette: Mostly on account of its sweetness, butternut squash has never been one of those ingredients that I get all that excited about, but as someone who has flirted with CSAs and vegetable delivery services over the years, I always end up finding myself in possession of one. This Ina recipe is the one that helped me find a way for squash to shine. The combination of flavors like maple, apple cider, and walnuts make it particularly appropriate for fall weather and the accompanying coziness; sometimes I go Extra Ina and pair it with her Indonesian swordfish (this marinade also works on chicken and kebabs). It’s also not a bad choice for a pretty Thanksgiving side — save yourself the labor and get pre-cut squash if you go this route. — Missy Frederick, Cities Director

The Barefoot Contessa [official site]

Ina’s roasted squash salad

Lemon capellini: This recipe is a great gateway into doing other things with pasta besides dumping jars of marinara onto it. It’s both satisfying and incredibly easy. Once you feel comfortable with building your own basic lemon-butter sauce, you can use the recipe as a base for any lemony pasta creation. For your first twist, I strongly recommend starting the pan with garlic and crushed red pepper for some heat. — Hillary Dixler Canavan, restaurant editor

Rack of lamb: Ina doesn’t have a blindspot, but in my opinion her true brilliance is in her weeknight meat recipes. She’s the master of simple roasts and stovetop braises that take the guesswork out of everything. I used to look at those Costco racks of lamb with fear, but Ina’s tight four-step recipe — from the “ don’t need to plan that far ahead” marinade to the somehow foolproof temperature guide — makes fancy rack of lamb easy enough to pull off any old Tuesday. — Lesley Suter, travel editor

Mulled wine: At some point over the holiday season, I have a big open-house style gathering — and Ina’s mulled wine is always the centerpiece. I make a big batch of it in the morning, which serves the dual purpose of setting up the booze situation and making my house smell amazing (as opposed to like unshowered writer and dog). Then I toss the wine in a crock pot and serve it all day, dumping in more Cab when it gets low. After 5 p.m. we usually toss a couple shots of brandy into the pot, too, which I guess kind of makes it into hot sangria? But then, no one’s quibbling about details like that. — Eve Batey, Eater SF senior editor

Raspberry baked french toast: Hosting large brunches — or breakfasts for dinner — is my favorite way to get people together. It’s fun and low-key, and I especially love that there are plenty of dishes that can be prepped in advance instead of needing fussy last-minute touches or more time in the kitchen instead of with guests. Baked French toast is an incredibly easy and always delicious staple, whether its on the table as an entree (with syrup) or as dessert (with syrup and ice cream). I love Ina’s raspberry baked version, which calls for fresh berries and diced day-old bread, and her French toast bread pudding, which needs slices of challah. These dishes are infinitely riffable, and both of these Ina recipes are great on their own or as a jumping off point. — Sonia Chopra, director of editorial strategy

Flag cake: I love to make Gartner’s flag cake from Barefoot Contessa Family Style, which could be especially fun if you have kids at home right now to help place blueberries on the stars background and raspberries on the stripes. Seriously, decorating this cake can take up an entire afternoon and should count as a credit for the long lost school subject of home economics. — Susan Stapleton, Eater Vegas editor

Ina Garten [Photo: Facebook]

Ina Garten’s flag cake

Perfect pie crust: Ina’s Perfect Pie Crust is my absolute go-to, holy grail pie crust. I’ve experimented with different crusts but this one takes the — ahem — pie. Five staple ingredients come together quickly in the food processor and can be used for any pie that requires a buttery, flaky blanket of perfection. Which is all the pies, duh. — Stefania Orrù, coordinating producer for Eater Video

Outrageous brownies: There could not be a better descriptor than outrageous for this brownie recipe — after all, it has a pound of butter and nearly two pounds of chocolate! But it’s all for good measure because you’ll be enjoying this massive portion of brownies for days to come. They keep really well, and Ina’s right when she says the instant coffee in here makes all the difference — it’s a tiny amount that gives a zippy balance to the decadent chocolate. — Tanay Warerkar, Eater NY reporter

Mocha Chocolate Icebox Cake: As someone who is not remotely talented at baking, this recipe is so easy to follow and the end result is a showstopper. I’ve made this recipe for multiple parties and everyone raves about it. It is boozy, full of chocolate and semi-homemade so it’s a win/win in my book. Added bonus: layers of Tate’s Chocolate Chip cookies! — Stephen Pelletteri, executive producer

Honorable mentions:

Herb-marinated pork tenderloin

Crispy mustard-roasted chicken

Buttermilk cheddar biscuits

Warm French lentils

Frozen key lime pie

Chipotle and rosemary roasted nuts

Palmiers

Rugelach

Scallops provencal

Roasted shrimp cocktail

Italian wedding soup

from Eater - All https://ift.tt/2JSWSDq via Blogger https://ift.tt/2yNxrky

[kariachi]

@mellenabrave More from that same au I’ve been writing. Wanted to write some Mike. Wanted to write my Monette. Have written them as relatives before. So fuck it.

Was supposed to be fun, ended up emotional.

~~

It hadn’t been hard for Mike to come up with an excuse to head out to Cadell- there was a fairy-type gym, he was a magic-user with multiple fairy-type pokemon, it was an obvious thing to eventually go and do. Aggregor had only lightly judged his luggage-packing choices and all Mik wanted was a solemn vow that he would behave himself so they didn’t have to come bail him out of trouble. Cody hadn’t given two shits. There’s been a moment where he thought Yuki might cry if he didn’t bring her along, but promises of a present when he returned (given well out of the others’ hearing) had calmed her enough to get out the door without any waterworks.

It was a long train ride up the coast, long enough for Mike to get through every movie and book he’d planned to consume during the entire trip- damnit, he’d always been bad at judging these things- and he was half-starved by the time he and his pokemon stepped out into the chill northern air. A single lungful was all it took for the majority of his nerves to melt away. Nearly ten years and it still smelled like home in a way the apartment back in Bellwood didn’t, couldn’t. Amy peeped excitedly at his side, even Elissa breaking out in a purr at the familiar street as he looked around for their host.

The local gym leader was no more difficult to find than she’d ever been, and it took practically no time at all for Mike to find familiar braids in among a small crowd at the end of the block. As he approached, it was like time hadn’t passed at all. Though there was much more grey to her hair than he remembered, the Cadell Town gym leader wore the same clothes, the same hairstyle,had the same boundless energy that had her bouncing on her heels as she spoke with some of the residents of the town, and, as Amy called out to get the attention of her Klefki, turned to him with the same big green eyes you’d find on ninety percent of the Morningstar family.

“I’m sorry, darlings, but I’m here for family matters first,” she said to the crowd, “but a promise, the Sewaddle problem will be dealt with by the end of the week.” Mike couldn’t have kept himself from chuckling if he’d wanted to, as she gave them hardly time to nod their understanding before curtseying and spinning on her heel to throw herself at him. “Mikey, sweetpea!”

“Hey Monie.” He didn’t expect to be hit with surprise when he scooped her up, letting her momentum throw them into a quick spin, something in his brain failing to compute her. She was so small, nearly Mik’s size, and he could remember back when she used to carry him around the gym over her shoulder. As if reading his mind, she pulled out of their embrace and looked him over.

“You’ve gotten so big, puberty hit you like a brickwall.”

“Oh no, I’ve seen people puberty hit like a brick. I’m fairly standard.” She snorted, a grin as dazzling as any of his best on her face as their fairies danced around each other with peeps and jingles of affection.

“You’ve never.”

~~

The two were second cousins, with a six-year age gap. They’d never had much in common, really. He was a bookworm with a passion for the arts, who had been more than happy to get into acting when the chance came up. She was an energetic athlete who took to battles so well that by the time Mike had been born she’d already been next in line to take over the family gym. They’d never even gotten to spend much time together, only a few weeks a year over the summer and during Thanksgiving weekend. Still, this had never stopped tiny toddler Michael from following elementary-aged Monette around like a little lost Ducklett, nor her from taking her baby cousin under her wing. She’d taught him how to charm people, to puppy-eye the adults, how to swim, how to apply makeup, and how to throw a punch. They’d been as close as two relatives who saw each other maybe twenty days out of the year could be.

Then his father had died, and Monette had become gymleader, and he’d spiraled, and been shunted to another house, and stopped answering her messages, and and

And now he was sat in the same gym where he’d spent his summers, at the same table where their grandfathers had taught their generation to play Crazy Eights. His team were scattered about the property- from Felix huddling under the wing of Monette’s Togekiss (he could remember his first Big Boy Job like it was yesterday, being five and getting to babysit his egg while she went with her grandfather to help with some trouble in the town) to Amy flitting around the garden just out the window with her Florges. Monette had waved off the gym trainers as soon as they’d arrived and was laying out a seemingly endless supply of pastries herself.

“Tea, coffee, or cocoa?”

“A beer would be nice.”

“But awful for your seizure rate.” Fuck, she’d done her research. Her dare she, she was the dumb one. At his feet, Elissa let out a sound that was suspiciously like laughter, earning herself a glare.

“Traitor.” Setting a cup of tea beside him whether he wanted it or not, Monette settled into the seat across from him with all the grace of a proper lady, Klefki hovering around like her shadow. Not surprising, given he’d belonged to the gym leaders in the family for as long as there’d been gym leaders in the family.

“I’ve missed you, you know,” she said. “Worried about you too. I was beginning to think I’d never get to see you again.” The tone was teasing, but it still cut. There’d been plenty of times he could’ve come by. Could’ve used his allowance to take the train up. Could’ve flown under his own power. Nobody would’ve missed him, nobody would’ve cared. But hadn’t. First because he was angry at the world, then because he was too far in himself to care, and then because he’d been afraid she’d drop him like everyone else seemed to have. Then Yuki had come back in his life, with drama in her wake. Mik had had their own family drama and ongoing recovery. Same with Aggy. His uncle had come back, the whole mess with his mother had started up, and he just-

He missed the rest of his family. He missed when family was easy.

Monette had always been easy.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” she said, handing him a lobster tail. Filled with strawberry cream, because of course they shared the same favorite flavor. “We can just chill if you want.” He did want, but, it there was going to be more drama… Better to get it out of the way.

“I was eating people for a while there,” he said, figuring that was as good abombshell as any. She sipped her own tea.

“Are you still?”

“No.”

“Good. It can’t have been good for your health.” That, was not the response he’d expected. Though he wasn’t quite sure what response he’d expected. Probably something more like horror at the fact he’d sunk to cannibalism.

“I’m still committing crime for a living,” he continued, and she stayed the image of calm.

“Any rape?”

“No!”

“Then we’re good, just call if you need somebody to dispose of a body.”

…okay, maybe his cousin was scarier than him.

Still, it was a relief to see her rolling with the news as easily as she had anything before. Part of him had been worried she’d be horrified, images of the hurt and betrayal on Yuki’s face when she’d found out playing over and over in his head. That part melted at her calm acceptance, turning into a flood kept locked tight behind his teeth. Suddenly he found himself wanting to bare it all- the things he’d done, the fights he’d been in, his times in prison, his fights with the Tennyson team, teaming up with Aggy and Mik, the shit with Charmcaster-

Okay, maybe not the shit with Charmcaster. He could only imagine how Monette would react to that, and he didn’t want to have to explain the resulting bloodbath to Gwendolyn.

“Mom wasn’t my actual mom,” he said instead, leading with the easy stuff. She’d probably already known, she was old enough, but the way she hummed and tilted her head said that if she’d remembered the two were different women it hadn’t been for a good while. “She remarried a week after you guys left.” Monette’s smile twitched, for just a moment, into something nasty.

“Couldn’t have been anything decent, with that sortve timetable,” she said haughtily, as if a crap wedding ceremony would be the least she deserved but the most politeness allowed her to wish.

“Oh, it was shit,” Mike lied and took a deep breath before he continued, clamping down on his emotions. “Developed some, issues, after that. With addiction and shit. Got thrown into a side house for being ‘a danger to others’.” Elissa pressed her head under his fingers with a concerned meow.

“I knew about that last bit,” she replied, smile shrinking (he was hit by the knowledge that he’d never seen her stop smiling outside of funerals, even when she’d made that one boy eat dirt for calling him a  freak she’d been all softness and silk and a smile sharp enough to halve the sun). “You’d vanished into the aether by the time I got there though.” A pang of guilt went through him at the image of her showing up to find an empty house, doubly so when Klefki settled soothingly at her shoulder. She’d found out he was alone and abandoned the gym to see him.

“Yeah, well,” the words didn’t come as easily now, emotion building up behind them, just waiting for an opening, “things got, rough. Very rough.” Another deep breath. “Prison-time rough.”

At no point in this whole conversation had Monette moved, aside from sipping her tea and moving pastries onto Mike’s plate, but there she rose to her feet, circling the table in quick strides and throwing her arms around his shoulders.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured into his hair, holding on like only Yuki had before, like he might turn to dust if they use every ounce of strength they had, “I should’ve been there.” Thrown off, Mike held her back. Fuck, and she didn’t even know the half of it.

“It’s fine-” She shook her head.

“I knew she was a bitch. I should’ve brought you back to the gym.” Oh Xerneas, that was quite the image. And one much too familiar. She’d been younger then than he was now, only eighteen, and he’d been Yuki’s age-

Had she even met Yuki yet?

With one last, careful squeeze, he pried her off him, flashing a smile.

“I’m okay.” It was a lie. “I’m doing better.” That wasn’t. “I’m doing better, and I’ve got more friends, and a boyfriend, and a little sister, and-” and there was still so much going on. With a wet little laugh she pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at the wetness on his cheek.

“I expect to meet these people you know. A new cousin and you wait this long to tell me.” She shook her head exaggeratedly, smiling at him as she stepped away. “And I’m going to have to give this man the shovel talk.” Barking a laugh, Mike smiled back.

“Monie!”

“Is he even worth your time?” She planted her hands on her hips. “You’re quite the catch, you know.” Still laughing, he shook his head.

“Why did I bother coming back?” Her smile widened to a grin and she turned away with a dramatic flourish of her skirts, smirking at him over her shoulder.

“Because you missed me,” she said, as if it was the plainest thing in the world.

And damnit if she wasn’t right.

[nothingeverlost]

Fic: The Evolution of Thanksgiving (Penny For your Thoughts)

Thanksgiving prompt #1

@halfwayinlight asked for pennyverse, perhaps the greatest dividing line every thanksgiving: can Christmas trees and decor go out before thanksgiving is over?  timeline: whenever it fits. but if belle’s not there, I might need a consolation belle thanksgiving with granny looking out for her _____________________________________ 2009

II

“Mary Margaret wants to know if you have plans for dinner on Thursday.”  David caught up with her before she made it to the elevator.  

“Thursday is Thanksgiving.”  She’d been invited over for dinner twice since she’d joined the team, but not for a holiday.

“Yeah, I know it’s not a thing in Australia but you’ve been here for quite a while.  Emma always comes over with Henry.  Graham’s coming.  And Gabe, of course.  What do you say?”

“How can I say no to my first Thanksgiving meal?”  She had her dad had never bothered with the American holiday but it was a good chance to be with her coworkers outside of work.  And a chance to spend time with Gabe and see him somewhere less formal.  “What can I bring?”

II

“So where do you stand, Belle?  Decorations before Thanksgiving are wrong, or can the tree go up before the turkey is carved.”  The way Emma shook her head made it clear which side she stood on.

“I love Christmas decorations.  I have to confess mine are up already.”  Belle took a sip of the very excellent wine she was drinking.  Gabe had a whole cellar, apparently, and had bought three bottles for the six of them.

“I feel the same, Belle.  But David likes to wait until December.  We compromise and wait until tomorrow.”  Mary Margaret folded her napkin neatly on the table.  “Now who’s ready for pie?”

“Ice cream,” Henry demanded from his booster seat before breaking out into ‘Frosty the snowman,’ and making it clear where he stood in the debate.

“Let me help,” Gabe offered.  Belle wondered where he stood on the decoration debate, or if he put up a tree at all.  

II

2010

II

“Happy Thanksgiving.”  Belle pulled up in front of the house the same time as Archie, and hugged him briefly before picking up her basket of rolls and bag of presents.  

“Presents!”  David opened the door but Henry was the one to run out and greet them.  There wasn’t anything quite like a five-year-old throwing himself at you at high speed.  Thankfully she was braced for him, and a moment later David was there to offer to carry things so she could pick up the boy.

“Are they giving presents or do we have to wait for Christmas because that’s a really long time?”  Henry sighed just like his mother.

“They’re Christmas present that we open today.”  The declaration earned her a second hug before he wiggled to be let down.  

“Uncle Gabe we get presents,” he shouted excitedly before running into the house to spread the word.

“Isn’t it a little early for presents?” Gabe asked, waiting for them on the porch.   

“You’re sounding a little Scrooge-like, Gabe.  It’s the most wonderful time of the year.”  She hugged him, because she could.  He would allow that, but not the more intimate touches she craved.  He stubbornly insisted that dating him would be a terrible idea.  

“If anyone tries to haunt me I’ll take an Ambien and sleep through it.”  Archie slipped into the house first.  Belle followed, and almost thought she felt Gabe’s hand at the small of her back for a moment.

II

“It’s just something small.”  Henry had pleaded his case and Emma had reluctantly allowed him to open his gift before dinner, which meant that Belle passed them all out.  None of the boxes were bigger than a few inches except Henry’s, which was really two packages.

“Minions!”  Henry figured out how to shed the wrapping paper quickly and held a minion ornament in one hand and a book in the other.  Belle hadn’t known how interested he’d be in an ornament.

“What do you say, Henry?” Emma prompted.

“Thank you Miss Belle.”  A moment later Henry was on the floor, reading his Despicable Me book to his new friend.

“There’s a theme.”  She’d found ornaments for everyone.  For Emma a mug of hot cocoa (laced with cinnamon whiskey, of course.)  For Archie a tiny computer displaying a Christmas tree and wrapped up in lights.  For Mary Margaret a little house; when you turned it around you could see a table set for dinner. She was proud that she’d found a little fencer for David.  For Graham a tiny snowglobe with a wolf and a couple of trees inside.  And for Gabe a stack of books.  She’d used a gold pen to write ‘Feed the Madness’ on one of the books; it was the title of the book he’d published last year.  She’d gone to one of his book signings and had waited until the end to bring her book up, teasing him into signing it for her, and then teasing him into dinner after.

“I hope you have a place to hang it, Gabe.”  She stopped short of offering him a spot on her own tree.

“It will do nicely on the mantle.”  

“What time does Marley show up?” she teased.  

II

2011

II

“You look sleepy, love.  Too much decorating last night?”  Gabe pulled onto the street where David lived.

“It wasn’t the decorating that kept me up late, Gabriel.”  She felt a little warm just thinking about it.

“Was it my fault you looked so irresistible wearing nothing but a Santa hat?”  He sighed when she used his full name, which always abused her.  When she really wanted to tease she called him an angel.

“I was wearing a lot more before you started unwrapping me.”  They’d spent the whole day decorating not only a tree but the whole house.  She suspected it was the most decorating his house had seen.

“My favorite present to unwrap.”  There was still a space directly in front of the house.  Belle grabbed the cranberry sauce and left the rolls for Gabe.

“Play your cards right and you might get to unwrap your gift again tonight,” she promised.

II

After dinner Belle found Mary Margaret in the kitchen and picked up a towel to help with the drying.  Henry was sleeping on the couch between David and Emma, the only ones that cared about the football game.  Gabe and Graham were cleaning up the backyard.  Apparently it was the first and only time they were going to have a roasting pit outdoors for their dinner.  The neighbors had been far less impressed by Graham’s skills than his coworkers were.

“I don’t think I’ve had a chance to say how happy I am for you and Gabe.”  Mary Margaret passed her a plate.  “I’ve never heard him laugh as much as he did today.  There’s always been something so lonely about him and that’s gone now.”

“He makes me happy too.  I’ve never loved anyone like this.”  She wondered if this was what it would be like to have a big sister.  Mary Margaret didn’t bother drying her hands before giving her a tight hug.

II

2012

II

“Gabe…”

“No.”  The rest of the team was gone already but Gabe had enough files on his desk that he could push the workday a few more hours.  If he was tired enough he might sleep through the next day.

“Tomorrow…”

“The only turkey I’m interested in tomorrow is 101 proof.”  He turned back to his files, blocking any argument David might make.

II

2013

II

“You’re coming for dinner on Thursday. Granny says that the only excuse she’ll accept is if you’re going home to see your dad.”  Ruby showed up at the bar in the late afternoon, three days before Thanksgiving.  “Are you going home?”

“No, but I’m Australian, we don’t celebrate Thanksgiving.”  She hadn’t the year before.  She’d actually taken a two week trip up to Canada to avoid the day’s meaning completely, and had tried all day not to think of her friends gathered together.  She’d failed miserably, and called Archie that evening.  He’d let it slip that Gabe hadn’t shown up at the Nolan’s but that everyone else was there.

“So it’s just a huge meal with awesome food and a couple of good friends.”  Ruby touched one of the walls of the room; they’d painted them together not long ago.  Ruby had voted red but she’d gone with blue.  

“It’s sweet of you both but…”

“It’s just the three of us, after the diner is shut down.  There won’t be huge crowds or strangers.”  For the first six months she’d moved to town Belle and Ruby had been neighbors at the B&B.  It was harder to hide things from her.  “We’d really like you there.”

“Okay.”  Maybe it was time to start some new traditions.

II

2014

II

He stood on the front porch, a bag of store-bought rolls in his hand, for at least five minutes.  He was the last to arrive and could hear all the sounds from inside the house, the chaos that followed a three and nine year old and handful of adults.  Last year he’d scheduled a book tour that not-so-accidentally had him out of town on Thanksgiving.  This would be his first Thanksgiving in three years.

He wasn’t sure he could do it.

“They’ll be glad you’re here.”  Graham, as he did so often, seemed to materialize from out of nowhere.  He leaned against the porch railing.  

“I’m afraid I’m not very good at being thankful.”  Work he could manage.  He was getting better about not spending all of his time there, but a great deal of the time not spent at work was spent writing.  He managed the occasional dinner at David’s, the occasional drinks with the team, but the most social he got were nights when they were in another city with only the team for company.

“Henry asked if you’d be here.  He and Emma have a bet, and if nothing else you’ll make sure he gets an ice cream sundae if you go in.”  Graham hoisted himself up over the porch rail rather than walking over to the steps.  “She’s safe.  She’s alive.  That’s something, right?”

“Yeah.”  When Graham went inside he followed.

II

2015

II

“Turkey lasagna is my favorite Thanksgiving tradition.”  Belle opened the door to Ruby and Granny, inviting them in.  She’d insisted that after two years it was her turn to host.  Will had shown up an hour ago and was diligently tearing up the lettuce for their salad.  The table was set for four.

“There’s enough for the freezer.  It’s easy to microwave.  You’re still missing too many meals.”  Granny set the lasagna down so she had a free finger to wave in Belle’s direction.  “Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

“Thank you for caring.”  She kissed Ruby’s granny on the cheek, knowing she only fussed over the people she loved, which meant she fussed about Ruby and Belle often.  

“How come no one worries about me missing meals?”  Will asked, half a roll in one hand and voice muffled by the bite he was currently chewing.  Belle rolled her eyes and reached for a bottle of wine.  

She paused to look at the picture hanging near her dining room table of her team; Gabe’s arm around her, Emma’s feet not on the floor as she balanced herself between Graham and David.  “Happy Thanksgiving.”

II

2017

II

“Are you sure about this?  If you’re uncomfortable at any point we can leave.”  He’d already reminded Bay a couple of times but he wanted to make sure the lad wasn’t overwhelmed.  The boy had been with him half a year and this was the first holiday.

“Graham said he’d be here.”  Other than himself Graham was the one that Bay had bonded with the most, thanks to the camping trips they took.

“He usually is, and if he said it to you he’ll be here.”  He’d missed last year, and hadn’t said anything about why but Gabe had his suspicions.  “And Henry as well.”

“I want to go.”  Bay was dressed in jeans and a button-down shirt that was starting to get short at the wrists.  It please Gabe to see that already in six months there were signs of him growing.  He was smaller than Henry despite being a year or so older, but good food and a safe place were doing their part to help him catch up.

“Okay.  Grab the rolls on the counter and let’s go.”  Belle had baked rolls every year.  Somehow the tradition had remained that he was in charge of them, though they were baked at a bakery now.

II

“Do you think they’re plotting something?”  Emma joined him at the kitchen window.  Graham was in the backyard with Henry and Bay, all three of them looking up to the sky.

“I believe I’ve heard the term ‘snow camping’ bandied about.”  Graham was so patient with the boys.

“Better them than me.  That sounds horrible.”  Emma shook her head.  “I’m thankful that I’m off that invite list.”

“I agree.”  He would need to get Bay a warmer jacket and some new boots.  He was also going to have to figure out how to make his foster situation something more permanent.

II

2018

II

“You didn’t have to come down here, it’s just a cold,” her father protested from his bed.

“Pneumonia is not the same as a cold.”  She’d spent a few hours in his shop, getting the last minute arrangements ready.  They closed the doors at noon, giving Belle enough time to stop by a deli to pick up a quart of chicken noodle soup and a turkey sandwich.

“That doctor was thirteen years old and probably still in school.”  Moe French’s argument was not made any stronger by the racking coughs that shook his whole bed.  “It’s nothing to worry about.”

“You’re my dad, I’m allowed to worry.”  She’d brought one of the folding tv trays into his room so she had someplace for her plate and drink.  “The shop’s looking good.”

“There’s always a place here for you, you know that right.”  Moe held the warm mug of soup to his chest.  “Maine’s too far away for my liking.”

“I have my bar and my friends.”  Will was watching the bar while she was gone.  He was probably better at it than she was; at least he wasn’t tempted to profile the customers.

“So you’re not planning to return to the Bureau?”  She was spared from answering when her dad started coughing again.  Returning to the FBI or to DC weren’t questions she’d answered for herself yet.

II

2019

II

“Can I get you a glass of wine?”  Mary Margaret greeted her at the front door before she even had a chance to knock.  “I just so happened to be looking out the window when you drove up.”

“Thanks, I’d love a glass.”  She had a basket of rolls with her and a tray of deviled eggs, and was glad to trade both for a wineglass.  It was only the third time she’d been in the Nolan’s house since she’d returned and the first holiday.  It felt strange and yet almost too familiar.  “Where is everyone?”

“Emma and Ariel are in the living room.  The kids are upstairs.”  She gestured towards the ceiling above their head, where a sudden shouting could be heard.

“David and Graham?”  They were usually trying to sneak something out of the kitchen.

“Like I said, the kids are upstairs.  We broke down and got Neal an XBox this year and now they’re all up there.”  Mary Margaret sighed.  “Books were so much quieter.”

“Gabe?”  She’d roll over in shock if she heard that he was playing or even watching video games.  Black and white movies were more his speed.

“Someone who shall remain nameless but whose name rhymes with avid forgot to pick up potatoes.  Gabe volunteered to run to the store.”

“You could say that, or you could say he dropped off a teenage boy and ran.”  Emma came into the kitchen with two empty wine glasses.  “Belle, thank god.  I was going to have to go get you if you didn’t come and Gold’s vintage crap seems more potent than normal wine.”

“I wouldn’t have missed this.”  She’d missed too many Thanksgivings. She’d decided to stay, and that didn’t mean just the job.  “Looks like I have some catching up to do.”

She had to agree with Emma that there seemed to be something in the wine.  Two glasses in and she was feeling pretty damn good.  The nerves that had plagued her before showing up were gone.  Three glasses in and she felt the need for fresh air.  She was sitting on the porch when Gabe returned with the potatoes.

“Mary Margaret’s knight in shining armor.”  She grinned up at him.  She missed looking at him.  Missed touching him too.  She reached up a hand to him and let him help her up.  It was a good thing for her questionable balance that she’d already abandoned her shoes inside, but it meant she had to stand on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek.  “Happy Thanksgiving Gabe.”

II

2020

II

“It’s not my fault Neal really loves Christmas.”  The tree was already up when they arrived for Thanksgiving.  The moment they were in the door Bay raced up the stairs, seeking out Henry.  It probably wouldn’t be long before Neal followed, but for now he was sitting at the base of the tree, looking at the ornaments.  Belle smiled to see the little fencer and the house she’d gifted so many years ago.

“Our tree is up as well.”  Gabe tried to sound like he was grumbling but Belle could tell that he was really just reveling in saying ‘our.’  She’d given up her apartment at the end of the summer and moved in with him and Bay.

“Can I get anyone a glass of wine?” David offered.  When Gabe nodded Belle shook her head.

“My stomach is a little upset, I think I’ll make some tea.”

Later she found herself at the tree, looking at the ornaments collected over years of married life.  She felt Gabe behind her, and leaned back to rest against him.

“Feeling better, love?” he whispered in her ear.

“Feeling perfect.”  There was one more thing they had to be thankful for this year, but she planned on telling Gabe in private.  For now she rested her hand on her stomach and looked at the ‘baby’s first Christmas’ ornament hanging on the tree.  “Happy Thanksgiving sweetheart.”