#My grandma is cooking death day food on Saturday so we are having

[donuts4evry1]

so guess who's in Canada now!! (Me, it's me)

Anyways, there is a whole lot of Asian stores around here so!! We finally found packaged jellyfish and I'm SO EXCITED HHDHSJ!! We are going to try and actual recipe from the European cookbook and my aunt is making Gỏi sứa (jellyfish salad) for Christmas and I'm SO SO SO EXCITED

[angelmavmurdock]

Our Little Secret: Part Six - A.R.

Word count: 5976 Summary: After Lenora’s funeral, Arvin learns some news about her. Y/n and Arvin have sex for the first time and ends up being way past her curfew...

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WARNINGS: SMUT, FINGERING, DIRTY TALK (mild), READER'S FIRST TIME

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I attended Lenora's funeral as her best friend.

No one knew about Arvin and I and we were keeping it for a different reason now. Not in case Lenora found out but to keep everyone else sane in this crazy time.

I had taken a week off school, helping the Russell's around the house with cooking, cleaning and some company. Emma was absolutely distraught, only coming out of bed when she needed the bathroom or needed to eat - even then it wasn't promised.

Ma was so busy with helping Daddy while I was busy helping the Russell's, we hardly got to see each other. But we both knew after the funeral things would calm down.

Arvin was handling his sister's death strangely. He wasn't sad. He didn't cry. He would go out on car rides, asking to be alone a lot of the time. I didn't know what he was doing and to be honest, I didn't want to know.

At night, once Earskell had went to bed and well after Emma had went to bed, we'd stay up, sitting outside on the patio in the old rocking chairs with some tea and listen to the radio quietly humming in the background. We wouldn't really speak much. We'd just be in each other's presence. We'd kiss. Then I'd go home.

But today was her funeral. I had a standard funeral outfit on: a black dress with tights and patent shoes with a black ribbon in my hair. I had been crying all day so my tears stained my cheeks and my eyes were red and puffy.

Emma was much the same as me while Arvin was trying to be strong for us, only a few tears leaving his eyes during the ceremony. He held me close to him, his hand just above the curve of my waist to not draw attention to us. We stood by together as Emma cried over her casket.

"Oh Lord, there's just some things we can't understand..."

She cried, kneeling to the floor and caressing the wood with her soft hands.

"But you take her into your arms..." She had to stop speaking because of her sobs.

I watched, tears falling from my face and I looked up at Arvin, rubbing my hand over his back softly. He stared numbly at the casket, only the ever-so-often squeeze of my waist indicating he was okay.

"Now I ain't somebody for sayin' prayers or..." Earskell talked, coughing and then clenching his jaw.

Arvin looked over to his Uncle and then removed his arm from around me, leaving me feeling cold without him. He slightly bent over and helped Emma to her feet, holding her by her arm and then wrapping his other arm back around me, this time on my waist.

"Let's go home." I said in almost a whisper.

Emma and everyone else nodded. I pulled away from Arvin and when he looked at me I looked back as if to say it was okay. He nodded slightly and helped his Grandma to the truck. I followed loosely behind the three of them, giving them some space to be with each other in the fresh air.

As I walked behind them through the grave yard I thought about everything.

What did she have to tell me? What happened with the preacher? Why was she so ashamed? Why did she want to end her own life?...

There were too many questions and none of them I could answer. I was supposed to be her best friend and I felt like I had let her down. I had let her down.

***

"I think it'll be real good if you went out for a night, Emma." I sighed, sitting next to her on her bed.

It had been a few days since the funeral and she was still lying in bed, only getting up for the bare minimum. Even for food she wasn't getting up for, which I was cooking each night.

"I don't have the energy, y/n." She croaked.

"I think you need a bath. And a nice new dress. And your hair did and your friends around you. There's a church day out at the beach on Saturday. I think you should go." I said with a smile.

She laughed lightly, "Honey, I hardly have five dollars to put together, how am I supposed to buy a new dress and get my hair done?"

A grin grew on my face, "Luckily I am here to help with that."

***

Saturday rolled around and I showed up early morning with two new dresses for Emma. She had gotten her hair done the day before and she was feeling a lot better. She showered and I met her in her room when she came out. I lay the two dresses on the bed and she looked in confusion.

"Pick your favourite and I'll see you in the living room." I smiled simply then left her room, closing the door behind me.

I waited in the living room with Arvin who was reading the newspaper, a cigarette bouncing between his lips and an ash tray.

"Ma asked for me to be home at 9 tonight." I said with a sigh.

Arvin looked up from the paper, "Really? That early?"

"Yeah. She does not like you." I groaned.

"Damn...I'm guessin' there's not much I can do about that, huh?"

"Not really...don't you have work today?" I asked.

"Only a small shift. Just gettin' back into it after the accident and then obviously..." He gulped.

"I know...well that'll be good." I smiled.

"Yeah."

"I'm ready!" Emma called from her bedroom.

"Come on out!" I beamed, getting up from the couch.

She clicked down the hallway in her red kitten heels. I gasped with delight. She chose the poppy patterned dress that flowed lightly below her knees. It fit her perfectly. A silver cross hung over her clavicle and her hair was pinned up nicely.

"Emma Russell, you look absolutely divine!" I grinned.

She blushed, "Really? I do love this dress, I can't thank you enough y/n."

"It's no problem at all. I'm just glad you're feelin' better and havin' fun. You deserve it."

She took a deep breath and smiled, "Thanks, darlin'."

Arvin got up to drive her to the church and he complimented her with an embrace.

"I'll be back around 11pm. It's late but the girls are all hitchin' rides with the men after their poker."

"Well I'll be gone by 9 so I'll see you tomorrow? I hope you have fun, Emma." I hummed, hugging her tightly.

"Thank you so much. Have fun!" She waved as Arvin opened the door for her.

We both watched as she and Earskell talked, going to the truck. Arvin closed the door slightly, leaning forward to me.

I giggled and cupped his face, bringing his lips to mine. It was soft but meaningful. His hands lightly touched my waist before we both pulled away.

"Have a good day at work and drive safe, alright?" I said.

"Thanks, y/n. I'll see you later. Bye." He flashed me a smile before leaving the house.

And I was left for nearly a whole day by myself.

***

Arvin's POV

The working truck pulled up to the car park outside. I jumped off the end along with everyone else and we said our goodbyes. As I headed to the truck I saw an officer standing by, looking at me.

"Need to have a word with you, Arvin." He announced.

"About what?" I asked, standing a few yards from him.

"It's uh...it's about Lenora." He spoke awkwardly.

I took a deep breath and looked away for a second, "What about her?"

"I came by here instead of home so nothin's put on your grandmother-"

"Put on her? What do you mean?" I asked.

The officer removed his uniform hat which is never a good sign. He seemed awkward. He seemed nervous.

"Y'know old Dudley in the coroners? He's a drunk but...he ain't no liar."

I looked at him with a stern look, masking the fact that my stomach was flipping inside.

"Did you know Lenora was carryin' a baby?" He asked.

I tilted my head slightly, my eyes on his. This seemed real. But it couldn't be.

I continued staring at him, hoping he'd crack.

"That's bullshit. That son of a bitch is lyin'." I clenched my jaw.

"Dudley ain't a liar. He came to me privately so as your family knew...I felt he was right." The officer nodded.

I averted eye contact, feeling myself tear up. No, no, no, no, no.

"I might've put my foot in somethin' but that wasn't my intention."

He fiddled with his dark green fedora, uncomfortable with the conversation and uncomfortable with the fact he had to tell me.

"You know that preacher ain't said no words for her? Not for people that kill themselves." I shook my head and clenched my jaw.

That son of a bitch.

***

I drove home in anger and confusion. When I pulled up, I saw y/n outside on one of the rocking chairs, a mug in her hand and a blanket wrapped around her.

My mood lifted almost automatically. She looked gorgeous in the dim sunlight. I remembered the house was empty and I was happy in that y/n and I could spend time together alone but then again, Lenora wasn't there.

I walked tiredly up the steps and she sat her mug down with a pout of her plump lips.

"Hey, you okay?" She asked me, standing up.

I didn't say anything.

"Arvin?" She prompted.

I looked up at her.

"How was work?" She asked, trying to pry something from me.

"It was fine." I shrugged, walking back to lean against the post.

She bit her lip, "Is somethin' botherin' you?"

She knew me too well.

"A uh...a police officer stopped me before goin' home." I said, retrieving a cigarette from my pocket and lighting it.

"What? Why?" She asked, arms folding as she leaned against the opposite post.

I chuckled. It wasn't to be annoying. It was in anger and confusion and disbelief.

"He told me that Lenora - my innocent, God-loving, 17-year-old sister - was pregnant before she died." I stated.

She blinked at me like a deer in headlights. She didn't speak for a few seconds, her brain working to log the information properly.

"She uh...she was p-pregnant? No." She shook her head.

"Well she was." I took a puff.

"What the hell? How did I not know?" She pressed a hand to her chest.

"Don't get mad at me I'm just repeatin' what he said!"

"I'm not mad! I'm just...she was pregnant?"

I licked my lips and nodded.

She chewed her lip in thought, wrinkles forming between her eyebrows.

"I don't believe it. That's bullshit."

"That's what I said. But, apparently some guy down at the coroner's said that she was. And apparently, he don't lie." I said.

She shook her head, "Who...who was the father? Cause he'll be out there right now runnin' free!" She exclaimed.

"I don't know. I have an idea but I don't know." I licked my back teeth.

I couldn't tell her about the preacher. She clearly didn't know and I wasn't about to tell her. Because if I told her I would have to explain how I knew and stalking some guy doesn't seem like the best thing to say.

"Well that is just...wow." She rubbed her face.

"I know."

We both went silent, our heads filled with thought and worry and confusion. How could neither of us had known?

"Are you gonna tell your Grandma?" She asked.

"No. No, I'm not." I dropped the cigarette butt and stood on it.

"I think it would set her back." She agreed.

"Exactly. She don't need that right now, she's at a good place."

y/n nodded, agreeing with me. I sighed and took my hat off, running a hand through my hair. y/n walked towards me with her arms outstretched. I smiled and welcomed her. Her arms wrapped around me tightly, her chest pressed against mine. I leaned my head on top of hers and stroked her back softly.

"We didn't get to tell Lenora." She whispered.

I gulped, "I know..."

"Well if heaven is real then she'll be lookin' down at us thinkin': I told you so."

We both chuckled at the thought. But it was slightly uncomfortable to think of her that way. Dead. In heaven. I didn't like it.

"Hey," She chirped from underneath me.

I moved my head and looked at her. She reached her hands up and wrapped them around my neck.

"You were such a good big brother." She stated.

An immediate lump in my throat formed at her words. Not if you knew the things I had done or what I was planning to do...

"And you're an amazin' person, Arv. You really are." She smiled.

I just smiled weakly at her.

"And I know you feel like you have to be strong all the time but with me...with me you don't have to." She whispered, trailing her hands down then up my chest.

Reader's POV

He stared down at me with a sudden look of lust and hunger. Before I knew it, I was being pushed back against the post, gasping as the wood hit my back. Arvin kissed me ferociously, his tongue pushing into my mouth without missing a beat. I moaned in surprised but sunk into him, getting the fast-paced rhythm he was implementing.

He moved his kisses to my neck and he began to kiss and suck on my sweet spot.

"Arvin," I moaned breathlessly, tugging his hair slightly.

His hands slid down my dress and grabbed my ass through the fabric as his mouth worked on my skin.

"Feels so good." I hummed.

His lips came back up to mine and our tongues worked with each other's, pushing and swirling in some sort of dance. It was passionate and hot and I felt like I needed more of him.

Suddenly his hands roamed further to my thighs and swiftly lifted me up. I gasped as my legs locked around his torso effortlessly. He smirked up at my surprise and kissed me again. He blindly opened the door and it slammed shut behind us. He walked through while kissing me intensely.

And then I knew I was in his room. I had only been in once or twice for laundry but I knew it was his. He pushed me against the door, ultimately closing it. I moaned again and he moved his lips to my neck again.

"Want you, Arvin." I hummed.

He looked up at me with a glint of lust and hope in his eyes.

"You sure?" He asked.

"I need you." I whispered.

That was enough for him.

He brought me off the wall and to his bed, lying me carefully on his sheets, getting on top of me.

He kept kissing me, his hands beginning to lift my dress up. I sat up and allowed him to slide it off my body. Thankfully I was wearing nicer underwear this time. He threw my dress to the side and looked down at my body in awe.

He stood up from the bed, eyes burning through my skin as he started to undo his buttons on his shirt.

I felt a colour rise to my cheeks. He was seeing me in my underwear. No guy had ever seen me in my underwear before.

"You are fuckin' unreal, darlin'." He complimented, his eyes shining with adoration.

I bit my lip, "You're makin' me nervous standin' like that."

He removed his shirt and then pulled off his dirty white t-shirt from underneath. I had seen his chest before but his bruises were nearly healed and he looked even better than before. Probably since he'd been working all day. He undid his belt and then slid down his trousers, stepping out of them.

My jaw dropped. Arvin. In. His. Underwear.

"Whatcha starin' at?" He smirked.

I gulped then looked back up at him, "Nothin' much."

He shook his head and leaped on top of me. I squealed before he kissed me.

"You're a minx, that's what you are." He chuckled against my lips.

"Well then teach me how to be good." I whispered.

He pulled away, looking down at me with his dilated brown eyes, almost completely black with passion.

"Fuck, I want to."

He began to slide his hand down my body, making rest stops at my waist and my hip before teasing the waistband of my pants. I gasped and looked up at him in lust.

"Have you ever been touched before?" He asked lowly.

He slid his hand carefully into my panties. I arched my back and moaned lightly at his touch.

"N-no." I answered honestly.

His eyebrows furrowed for a split-second.

"You've never been touched before? When you look this pretty?" He quirked an eyebrow.

His fingers slowly circled on my clit, warming me up. I grasped his arm and bit my lip at the new feeling.

"Have you ever touched yourself before?"

My throat went dry.

"No." I answered again.

He smiled, "That's okay...but you've gotta tell me if you don't like what I'm doin', alright?" He asked.

I nodded with a hum.

He pulled my panties off and I felt completely exposed. Only my brasserie covered the last part of my modesty. But I felt safe with Arvin. I trusted him.

His hand returned back to my core where he continued rubbing circles on my clit. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the new-found pleasure.

"Already so wet, darlin'."

I whimpered at his filthy words and felt his finger slide down my core. He slowly pushed a finger into my entrance. I gasped and gripped his arm that rested beside my head, propping himself up.

He started moving it in and out, beginning to pick up a pace.

"How does that feel?" He asked.

"So- good." I hummed, eyes closed in pleasure.

He began to speed his finger up, curling it up to find my spot. I moaned, bucking my hips into his palm as if to say more.

He got the message and slipped a second finger in with ease. I moaned loudly as his fingers worked inside of me. His thumb grazed constantly over my clit and whatever he was doing was making my stomach flutter.

I could hear the sounds of my arousal and it added to the pleasure.

"So good for me, y/n. So good." He praised.

"Arvin!" I whined.

"What, angel?" He asked softly.

"I need you. Please." I practically humped his hand in desperation.

He smirked, "You sure you're ready?" He asked cautiously.

I nodded, "Please."

He removed his hand from me, leaving me a whimpering, pathetic mess. He slid his underwear off and my jaw dropped once again. His member was a lot bigger than I had anticipated. But to be honest, I had never seen one so I had nothing to compare it to. But my god.

He pumped himself in his hand as he got back onto the bed, kneeling between my legs. I sat up and removed my bra myself. I then took my hair out of the band and the ribbon, sitting them aside. I lay back down, attempting to make my hair look as nice as it could splayed out on the bedsheet.

"You're so fuckin' gorgeous. Can't wait to feel you." He groaned, getting on top of me.

I bit my lip and held his arm with one hand and gripped his hair with the other.

"You ready?" He asked.

I took a deep breath and nodded. He leaned down and encased my lips in a passionate but loving kiss, our lips moving slowly over each other's and our tongues swirling around perfectly. I got so distracted by the kiss that Arvin could easily slip half-way into me. I gasped at the feeling of him.

"Is that okay?" He checked, brushing some of my hair out of my face.

I nodded and hummed. He gave me a moment to adjust to his size. It was slightly uncomfortable but that soon went away when he pulled back then thrusted slowly into me again.

"Arvin," I moaned.

He lifted my thigh up to his side and pushed further into me. I tugged his hair and bit my lip.

"So fuckin' tight, fuck. Feel so good, darlin'." He panted.

"Please go faster." I whimpered.

He dipped his head into the crook of my neck and held my thigh firmly as he began thrusting into me. His pace sped up quickly and soon enough he was moving effortlessly into me.

"Feels so good!" I moaned, arching my back into his chest.

His lips came to my breasts, taking one nipple into his mouth. I gasped at the new feeling as his tongue lapped over my skin. His thrusts sped up and he completely bottomed me out, his skin slapping against mine with every push.

"Oh god!" I tugged on his hair.

He groaned, "So gorgeous, so hot - fuck."

I rolled my eyes back at his words.

In a Christian based Southern state, having premarital sex was looked down upon. But it didn't feel wrong. It felt so good.

"So tight around me," He commented lowly.

"Can we flip?" I asked breathlessly.

"'Course."

He smoothly flipped us, so he was on his back. I bit my lip and hovered over him, taking his member in my hand.

"Fuck." We both cursed in unison.

I pumped him in my hand a few times to see what it was like and how he reacted. He gripped my thigh tighter and bit his lip. I smirked, feeling a pang of power course through me.

I swiped his member on my folds, surprised at how wet I actually was. I slowly sank down on him and we both let out long groans as I bottomed him out.

"W-woah." I panted.

He sat up, shifting inside of me. I moaned a little at the movement. His arms wrapped around me and I held his shoulders. I kissed him deeply, running my hands up into his hair and his tongue explored my mouth like it never had before.

I started to move on him, up and down was my instinct. Apparently I was right.

"Fuck, darlin'." He cursed against my lips.

"Oh god." I moaned, gripping his broad shoulders for support.

He gathered my cascading hair and put it behind my back as I moved on top of him. For some reason it made emotions flow in my brain.

Love.

They way he cared for me and was gentle with me obviously set off an emotion I had never really felt before. Not romantically, anyway.

I looked into his dark eyes and stopped bouncing on him. He looked into my eyes and held my waist.  He started to move my hips in a grinding motion. My mouth dropped open slightly at the feeling.

His eyes stayed on mine as I rolled my hips on his, his hands guiding me. It was intimate and passionate and I loved him. I held him as close to me as possible, our chests matching and my hands massaging his scalp.

"Arvin," I moaned.

I could feel a build up of tension in my stomach.

One of his hands slowly came down between us and started to rub my clit again. I threw my head back in pleasure, the feeling intensifying.

"Shit!"

"You close, darlin'?" He asked lowly.

"Close? To- to what?" I asked, fastening my movements.

"Fuck- to your high, baby."

His fingers kept working on my clit and his other hand still guided my hip.

"My high? Oh fuck! That feels so good!" I moaned loudly and highly.

His fingers worked faster.

"If you feel like you need to let go...then do it, baby." He groaned.

I didn't really know what he meant but the feeling in my core and stomach tightened.

"Oh god! Yes! Yes!" I moved my hips faster on him.

"God you feel so good, baby. So good around me." He praised.

I dug my nails into his back, my head going to his forehead.

"Arvin, I love you." I admitted breathlessly.

"You-you love me?" He repeated as if he was surprised.

"Yes! Yes, I love you." I bit my lip.

"y/n...pretty girl," He brushed some of my hair behind my ear.

"I love you, too." He grinned.

I stopped my movements for a second to smile and kiss him. I wrapped my arms around his neck, bringing him as close to me as possible.

He started to thrust up into me, the sound of skin slapping and my surprised moans filling the room.

"Oh! Yes! God, yes!" I squealed.

He worked a lot faster than I did. His member brushed a spot inside of me I didn't even know existed. I could feel myself clenching around him and he groaned at the feeling.

"Let go for me, baby. Come on." He grunted.

"I love you! Arvin, I- yes!"

I felt the knot in my stomach snap and the feeling in my core burn. I moaned and cursed and gripped Arvin's hair in ecstasy. He continued thrusting up into me, my wetness dripping down onto him and his thighs.

"Feels so good baby, good job." He praised.

He kept me in my high like I had entered nirvana. My mind went cloudy, my vision hazy, my hearing muffled. All I could sense was Arvin. And that's all I needed.

"Fuck, baby-"

He quickly flipped me back onto my back and pulled out of me. I was still somehow in my high but I opened my eyes to see what he was doing. He pumped his member a few times before grunting and finished on my upper thigh and lower stomach.

I watched in awe. His muscles tensed and untensed, his head was thrown back and the sounds leaving his mouth were heaven.

After he calmed down he crashed next to me and we both caught our breaths.

"Sorry about that, I should have asked you." He sighed.

"It's okay. I liked it." I giggled.

He shook his head and looked at me, "You are perfect, y/n."

I shook my head back, brushing my hand over his loose curls, "No, you are."

He smiled at my touch, "How was it?"

I laughed lightly, "Good. I didn't even know it was possible to feel like that."

He smirked, "I'm a master, what can I say?"

I rolled my eyes and smacked his chest. He laughed and then shuffled closer to me, lips decorating my shoulder.

"Did you mean what you said?" He asked quietly.

I nodded, "Every word."

His lips connected to mine in a soft, long kiss.

"I love you." I whispered.

"I love you, too."

-

He dropped the needle onto the record and waited for the music to play.

(Play now)

'Cry To Me' by Solomon Burke began to play through the speaker.

Arvin had poured us a glass of very fancy scotch each. He said it was only for special occasions. I had only put my panties and one of his button down shirts on. The warm, humid weather was enough to keep me warm. Arvin wore a white vest shirt and some long pyjama bottoms.

"I love this song." I hummed, sipping the warm alcohol from the crystal glass.

"Dance with me." Arvin stated rather than questioned.

I smiled and sat my glass down. He gave me his hand and twirled me under his arm before bringing me into his chest.

We held hands on one side while his other hand held my waist and my other held his shoulder. We swayed back and forth to the music, enjoying the post-sex bliss.

"Come on, and cry to me." I sang an octave higher.

Arvin smiled, "I love you."

I giggled, "I love you, too."

We stayed like that, dancing and singing to the parts we knew, hands all over each other, stealing a few kisses whenever we could. He'd spin me out and I'd attempt to spin him but he could never get the hang of it.

We were happy. And we were in love.

"I've never seen you like this before, you know? I like happy on you." I smiled up at him.

A one sided smile curved on his face, "No one's been able to bring it out of me before."

I bit the inside of my lip at his words. Part of me was happy and proud that I could make him feel like that but the other part felt horrible that he's felt that way for so long.

"Well get ready to be happy a whole bunch, 'cause I ain't goin' nowhere."

He laughed, twirling me under his arm and back into his chest.

"That's exactly what I want." He smirked, leaning down to kiss me.

Our lips pressed together.

But only briefly.

A truck pulled up outside. And both of us turned to look out the window.

"Wait WHAT?!" I shouted, noticing that it was Emma and Earskell in the car.

I looked at the clock on the wall.

11:57.

"SHIT!" I exclaimed.

It was nearly midnight. I was supposed to be home at nine.

I scrambled to Arvin's bedroom and hurriedly put on my dress and shoes. Arvin put the shirt I was wearing on and changed into his work trousers again. He grabbed his jacket and his keys, shoving his feet into his shoes as we ran to the front door.

"Oh! You two are still here?" Emma jumped at the sight of us rushing past her outside.

"Back soon!" Arvin shouted.

I jumped into the passenger seat and Arvin got in the drivers. He pulled out frantically and drove off.

"Oh my god. I'm dead. I'm dead." I panicked.

"Just calm down, you'll be fine." Arvin tried to soothe me, speeding through the village.

"You'll be dead, too! Oh god what are they gonna do, Arvin?" I gripped my hair.

"We're nearly there, it'll be fine." He grasped my thigh lightly.

I took deep breaths, looking out at the silent town as we zoomed past everything. The dread in my stomach grew as we drove up the road and then entered the grounds, past the gate.

"Go before they get you, alright?" I ordered, jumping out the car.

"Y/N Y/M/N YL/N! Where the HELL have you been?!" Ma shouted from the door, storming outside.

"Ma, I can explain! Let's just go inside!" I exclaimed.

"Boy, get out that car right now!" She shouted at Arvin.

"Ma! Stop! It's not his fault!" I shouted, beginning to get defensive.

Arvin got out of the car and held his hands in his trouser pockets, walking towards Ma and I. I saw Daddy standing by the door, watching everything and my heart ached.

"You are supposed to be takin' care of her! How dare you keep her away this long with no contact! How dare you!" She shouted at Arvin, pointing a finger at hi accusingly.

"Ma! He didn't do anything!" I shouted.

"I am not STUPID y/n! I know that you two have been gettin' together almost every night. I see the car bein' parked behind the gate, I see the way you two look at each other. And I do not have a problem with that! But if the so called MAN known for his sexual acts keeps my 18 year old daughter out until MIDNIGHT, I am not gonna be happy!"

"We lost track of time, ma'am." Arvin stated calmly.

"Oh did ya' now? Doin' what?"

"Ma!" I shouted.

"No! I wanna know what was so important that stopped you from comin' home on time!"

Arvin and I stuttered, not knowing what or how to say anything.

Ma scoffed and clenched her jaw. We could practically see steam coming from her ears.

"You. Inside. Now." She demanded, pointing at me.

I furrowed my brows, "No! I'm not goin' inside with you!"

"y/n, inside right now!"

"No! I'm not leavin' Arvin!" I held his arm in mine.

Her chest heaved with rage, "Arvin, stay the hell away from my daughter."

Ma went to grab my arm but I dodged it.

"No!" I screamed.

"y/n!"

"No! I wanna be with Arvin!"

"He is no good for you!" She shouted as if he wasn't there.

"You do not get to tell me what I can and can't do! I'm an adult and if I am in love with someone-"

"IN LOVE?" Ma shouted.

"Yes! In love! We love each other and you can't stop that!" I held his arm so tightly I was surprised I hadn't cut his circulation off yet.

"You are not to be with each other anymore. You are a bad influence on my daughter and I never want to see you near her again. Do you understand?" She spoke sternly to Arvin.

I looked up at him. He gulped, his eyes becoming teary, "I understand." He uttered.

"Arvin!" I scoffed.

"I'll leave you alone." He murmured, beginning to walk away.

"Arvin! What the hell are you doing?!" I shouted, my arm still attached to him as he - we - walked away.

He opened the car door and clenched his jaw, not looking at me.

"Go with your parents. I've done enough."

"Arvin, don't say that! You- you just said you loved me!" I felt tears begin to fall from my eyes.

His chin quivered, "Just go, y/n. Please."

"What? No. No! I'm not going!"

He ripped his arm away from me and went to get in the car.

"No!"

I slammed the door so he couldn't get in.

"No! You don't get to do that, Arvin! You don't get to say you love me then fuck off when somethin' comes between us!" I shouted, realising these were more sobs than anything.

"Just go inside, y/n." He said to the ground.

I furrowed my brows and shook my head in disbelief.

"y/n-" I interrupted my mother.

"No! Arvin, please! Why are you doing this?"

"We can't be together." Arvin sniffed.

"Yes we can! We can!" I went to cup his face but he moved away.

I didn't know if it was sadness or utter rage but I broke down in tears.

"You said you loved me!" I screamed, pushing him against the car.

He took it. He didn't look at me, though. But he took my babyish tantrum.

"You said you loved me!" I cried, hitting his chest.

"y/n, go inside. Please." He begged quietly.

I saw tears fall from his face.

I stopped and stood back, watching with blurred eyes as he got into the car and drove off quickly.

I choked on a sob and kneeled to the ground in a cry, letting all the emotions I had pent up go. Absolutely everything.

Ma came up to me to comfort me but I pushed her off and stood back up.

"No! You don't get to comfort me after ruining love for me." I cried, pushing past her and running to the house.

I ran up the steps and I paused briefly when I saw Daddy watching with tired and heartbroken eyes. He silently moved to the side to let me storm away. I sobbed uncontrollable sobs as I ran up the stairs and slammed my door shut, sliding down to the floor.

I thought he loved me.

-

{Tags: @notanordinaryprincess96 @imagine-yourself-happy​ }

[svtskneecaps]

Number 17

Vernon Chwe x (gender netural) reader

Words: 5048

Genre: fluff, some pining (does pining count as angst?)

neighbor! childhood friend! aus

you’re feeling the summer listlessness. vernon helps you find something to do

day 35 of a tct summer collab

(holy shit guys i’ve been excited to post this since like, MAY holy shit i hope y’all enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it)

(my masterlist)

You shot him a text. Very simple.

vernon i’m going crazy

He shot a text back. Very simple.

why

why do you think? you ask. i don’t know what to do

it’s summer, he says, you can do anything. for example, i’m lying in bed enjoying myself

it’s 1 pm

it’s summer

Who are you to argue with that?

i’m still going crazy. you might be able to stay in bed all day but i’m gonna go insane

so find something to do

i can’t, you say, because it’s true.

all year you were listing hundreds of things you would do when you got the time

i know, you say, i know. but it’s like, now i have the time, but i just feel paralyzed. i don’t know what to do

And you wait for a response and none comes for long enough that you worry you said something that was too weird even for him, but then your screen goes dark and your phone buzzes and his contact is on screen. You answer and his messy bedhead fills your screen.

“You want me to decide?” he asks, and his voice is rough like he just woke up.

“Sure,” you say.

“Try baking something,” he says. “Like chocolate chip cookies or a pie or something.”

“You’re just saying that because you want to eat it.”

“Absolutely,” he mumbles, face still half buried in his pillow. “I can grab a quick shower and come over just in time for the taste test.”

You snicker. “No way, you don’t have the palette for a taste test.”

“Alright, then I’ll put them in the oven and we’ll hit up a couple friends and force them to try it.”

And. . . honestly that doesn’t sound half bad. It’s been five days since you saw anyone outside your immediate family--which is suffocating in its loneliness, after the routine closeness of the year--and maybe that’ll make you feel less paralyzed.

“Okay,” you say.

True to his word, Vernon’s over within thirty minutes, leaning his bike up against yours in the garage. He handles the oven for you, although not without teasing you about the time you burned yourself on the top of the oven while taking out your grandma’s angel food cake at Christmas.

“Well at least I helped you remember how coordinates work,” you say, because you both knew that was the reason you two learned whether to move on the x or y axis so much faster than your classmates.

“At least I know how to keep my skin intact,” he shoots back.

While taking the tray out of the oven he very nearly blisters his thumb and drops the tray; after securing the tray’s safety and running cold water over the blister, once your heartbeat returns to something acceptable, you inform him that instead of cookies he’ll be eating his words, to which he responds with, “At least my words taste good,” and you snap him with the towel. He flicks water at you, and only the fear of having even more to clean up keeps you from starting all out war. You tell him to bring his swimsuit over tomorrow, though. There’s mischief in his eyes as he agrees.

You each balance a tupperware of cooled cookies on your handlebars as you coast through the neighborhood, knocking on doors and handing them out to friends and friends’ parents. Minghao takes three. Seungkwan’s mother trades you two bottles of water, fresh from the fridge, for a cookie and first dibs on the next batch. She takes another one and says it’s to give to Seungkwan when he gets home from acting camp, but winks when she says it. You snap Seungkwan the picture of his mom with the cookie, and he snaps back a picture of himself and Jun making dorky faces demanding you save a few for them because make no mistake we will be swinging by your house when we’re done for the day and we expect cookies you two!

Jeonghan and Joshua aren’t home, but you find them all hanging out in Seungcheol’s pool. Jeonghan asks why you aren’t selling your cookies. “Because this is the taste test,” Vernon says. “We’ll be getting you hooked on this batch and then start charging ten bucks on the next round.” Jeonghan praises your business sense and takes a bite out of Seungcheol’s cookie while he isn’t looking. Seungcheol tackles him into the pool and you leave before the ensuing splash fight can get the cookies wet.

True to their word, Jun pulls into the driveway with Seungkwan in the passenger’s seat and Mingyu in the backseat (they must’ve agreed to carpool with Mingyu after his cooking workshop), and you get nervous because Mingyu’s going to college for baking and everyone knows that out of the group Mingyu is the best cook, but Vernon presents him with a cookie no hesitation and Mingyu tells you they’re amazing, and Vernon gives you this smile as if to say, see, nothing to worry about.

Wednesday, Vernon comes over with his swimsuit and you make a pair of rudimentary signs for a car wash out of an old cardboard box. His is very simple, bubble letters with the address and CAR WASH in all caps. You tried to get a little creative with yours.

“I love it,” Vernon says, crouched next to you as you hover over your sign. “You can almost hear the cloud cow saying ‘graphic design is my passion’.”

You push his shoulder hard enough that he topples over, laughing. “It’s supposed to be a soapy car!”

He’s so proud of himself for that joke that he suggests you start a car wash company instead of going to college. “You can call it Clean Mooters,” he says, as you’re filling your buckets.

You blast him with the hose and he laughs so hard he snorts.

You spend the day covered in soap and water, spraying Vernon with the hose if there isn’t a car to wash and shrieking and trying to dance around behind him every time he gets the hose from you. When the cars stop coming you pack up shop, uprooting the signs and taking them inside, tossing them in the recycling bin.

Thursday it’s raining outside. Vernon comes over anyway. You call him an idiot. “Don’t you know the rain’ll rust your bike?”

He shrugs with a half smile, shrugging off a raincoat that now has a strip of mud up the back where his tires kicked up the dirty street water. “There’s only a hundred and four days of summer vacation,” he says. “I didn’t want to miss one.”

You seize his coat and toss it in the sink, bowing your head to scrub off the mud so he doesn’t see how red your cheeks have become.

You play Mario Kart on the Wii for most of the day (Vernon hits you with a red shell right before you cross the finish line; you hip check him off Rainbow Road), and even as out of practice as the both of you have become over the school year, you’re still pretty well matched. By the time you get bored with that, your mom has texted to say she’s going to need to stay at work a little longer and you might be on your own for dinner. That’s fine, you and Vernon try out a recipe for lasagna that you found on a food blog (buried under the woman’s lengthy story of the time her husband nearly got stomped by a cow. “It’s a sign,” Vernon says, “Clean Mooters is your true calling.” You’d hit him if you weren’t very carefully adding a layer of sauce).

It’s still raining when Vernon has to leave. You stand there, just outside the cover of the garage, watching Vernon shrug on his raincoat.

“You’re gonna get soaked,” he says.

“You say that like I care,” you say, rain beginning to drip down your hair.

He steps out of the garage then, too, standing next to you. You turn your face to the sky, closing your eyes against the heavy drops that splatter against your cheeks.

“You’re gonna catch your death.”

“Says the guy who’s wearing a raincoat with the hood down.” You shove his chest without looking. He catches your hands. You look down.

Your eyes meet.

Vernon drops your hands and coughs. You reach up to brush the water from your forehead, gaze on the ground as your face burns, despite the cool rainwater still sliding down your cheeks.

“I, um, I should go,” he says.

“Yeah,” you say. “See you.”

He hops on his bike and rides away. The rain falls so hard you lose sight of him before he rounds the corner.

Saturday the whole team gets together at Jeonghan’s house, because he has a firepit. Seungkwan is standing on the picnic table when you ride up, in the middle of a dramatic retelling of some odd thing that happened at acting camp. He appears to be fencing Vernon with an imaginary sword, and you can only imagine the context of that story. You don’t announce yourself, for fear of making one of them fall off, and help Wonwoo get the food from the kitchen. Mingyu is already getting set up at the grill (despite being one of the youngest, he’s the only one any parent trusts near the grill; previous block barbeques have ended in disaster that no one’s eager to repeat). Minghao is by the firepit, holding the lighter very tightly, either to keep it away from Soonyoung or to ensure he’s the one to start the fire.

Seungkwan jumps down from the table when Jihoon tells him to, although he continues telling his story in an enthusiastic yell. Vernon meets your eyes and grins, flicking his eyes at Seungkwan like you’re sharing an inside joke like normal, and you can almost forget that moment in the rain ever happened.

Nearby, Jeonghan is filling a plastic baby pool with water. You ask him what it’s for but he just grins and tells you it’s a secret. When it comes to Jeonghan that’s usually cause for concern, but also you’re itchy inside your skin and all you did Friday was pick out a couple songs on the old piano your great grandmother left your family and no matter what the adventure you’re down for it, so you leave him to it. It’s the first bonfire of the summer. You can handle anything.

They get the fire started before Mingyu finishes grilling, the smell of the meat wafting over the yard and making your stomach rumble. Unfortunately, they misjudged the wind direction and half of the chairs are directly in the path of the smoke. There’s a lot of complaining as people rush to shift their chairs out of the way. Vernon ends up next to you in the scramble. You aren’t complaining; now you get to tease him about the way he seasons his food and he’ll tease you back about your tendency to drown your burgers in ketchup.

(except you don’t; you eat quietly and neither of you bring up the other’s habits and somewhere deep down that scares you)

When the sun goes down, Jeonghan and Joshua bring out the alcohol, and everyone who’s old enough drinks.

The baby pool, Jeonghan says, is for the losers of the tournament. The tournament, he says, is simple. And for pairs.

The first challenge is a wheelbarrow race down the street. You thought you and Vernon had a pretty good chance of winning, but then, by some divine magic, Jihoon and Mingyu shoot off and cross the finish line miles before everyone else. Half the group calls bologna because come on they’ve got just about the biggest height difference between them, out of everyone, but Joshua was reffing the starting line and didn’t see any false starts; they won fair and square.

The second challenge is hula hooping. You don’t have much hope for your score, not because you’re bad at hula hooping, but because you’re bad at hula hooping when Vernon is right next to you and also hula hooping. You end up laughing so hard that you lose your hoop within three spins, but in the end it doesn’t matter, because Vernon can carry the team score to victory.

“Who needs eight years of gymnastics?” he asks, and you beam.

The third challenge is a ‘who knows their partner the best’ challenge. Jeonghan put together a list of questions, which he and Joshua list off and give time for each partner to write down both their answer and what they think their partner put. You’re a little scared; you’ve known Vernon for as long as you can remember but sometimes you wonder if you really know him like you think you do. The questions aren’t so bad, simply asking what your partner’s favorite clothing brand is, or what time they get up in the morning, or what they think of pineapple on pizza. You breeze through the questions, until the last one. Joshua lists the final question, which member of the group is their favorite?

Your answer is simple enough, but you aren’t sure of his. Sure, you partnered up, but Seungkwan had all but thrown himself directly at Wonwoo when Jeonghan sent you off to partner and you knew Vernon and Seungkwan had known each other long before you had talked to anyone in the neighborhood or gone to a barbeque or slotted yourself into the dynamic of the block, and you knew he and Joshua had a special sort of friendship because of their similar heritage and you just didn’t know for sure what he would put (especially after the strange moment in the rain; you weren’t sure what it meant and you weren’t sure you wanted to know).

Eventually you write Seungkwan’s name on the sheet and hand the paper to Jeonghan when he comes around to collect. You fidget with your fingers as they tally up the scores. Next to you, Seokmin hops up to either get into a passionate debate with Soonyoung over what his true favorite movie is or to maybe just tackle Soonyoung into the grass. Either way, Vernon slides into his empty chair.

“So what’d you put for number seven?” he asks, waggling his eyebrows.

You roll your eyes, knowing exactly what he means. “Clean Mooters,” you say.

He pumps his fist. “I knew you’d see the light eventually!”

“Well I did get the most tips,” you tease.

“Well of course,” he says, “you’re the best looking, it’s only natural.”

Jeonghan calls out that they’ve tallied up the scores before you can process the full implications of that sentence.

You win that round too. Joshua hands the sheets back, and you carefully fold yours and shove it in your pocket.

You play a few more rounds: the chubby bunny challenge (Mingyu crammed an ungodly amount of marshmallows in his mouth, you almost wanted to go to church after seeing that; he kept going even after he won, until he almost choked and Joshua shut him down), the perfect s’more challenge (which you suspect was just an excuse for Jeonghan to get s’mores without having to make them; Mingyu’s first marshmallow slid off his stick, and the second caught fire; Seungcheol and Chan ended up winning and Seokmin called nepotism), the long jump (Soonyoung got overexcited and misjudged his landing; he landed hard on the cement and although he was totally fine, he would ask Jeonghan at random intervals for bonus points because of his injury with a shit eating grin all the while), and finally, a game of hide and seek.

The hide and seek rules are simple; they’ve been the same since you were old enough to be outside after sunset: don’t go off the block, don’t go inside, don’t leave your partner, and don’t use a light. The tournament judges give you thirty seconds head start. You and Vernon take off down the street and the thrill of the game sings through your bloodstream.

“Think they’ll think to look for us up Mrs. Boo’s tree?” Vernon asks as you run.

“Yeah, you remember Seungcheol did that once and Jeonghan’s never forgotten it, it’s the first place he’ll look.” You pass Chan and Seungcheol as they try to conceal themselves behind the Christmas decorations that Mr. Wilkinson still hasn’t taken down. “Mrs. Kim’s porch?”

“No, she’s got her light on.”

You skid to a halt at the end of the street, chests heaving, both casting around for a hiding space. Down the street, Joshua is beginning to yell, counting down from 10. Vernon tugs your sleeve, and points.

You grin.

Moments later, you resettle the plastic lid onto the box, burying yourselves carefully under the tarp inside and setting a few bricks on your backs for good measure. Mr. Lee is upgrading his yard this summer, and one addition is planned to be a brick footpath, and thankfully he left the tote of bricks out where you could get to it. Holding the tarp firmly in place, with the bricks above you for insurance, if they open the tote and decide to slap the tarp, you would just feel like a full box of footpath bricks.

Perfect.

Of course, it’s a pretty small space and you and Vernon have to lie pretty close to one another in order to fit, and your foot presses against his shin and his elbow is in your stomach, but if you lay there and don’t breathe, you’ll have the game in the bag.

“So,” Vernon says, voice so soft it’s sometimes hardly more than a breath, “what’d you put for number seventeen?”

You think back. “Vernon there was no number seventeen.”

“No?” he asks, with a tone like he’d always known. “Guess I’ll have to make one up.”

You snort, very softly. In the distance, yelling breaks out; Soonyoung and Seokmin just got found.

“How do you feel about long distance relationships?” he asks, so softly you nearly miss it.

Your heart skips a beat. You’re pretty sure he’s implying something but you aren’t sure if it should scare you or not. “I think they’re hard,” you say carefully. “Not impossible. But it takes work from both sides. So it’s hard.”

You hear him inhale like he’s going to say something, but he doesn’t, and you feel the breeze from his exhale on your face. Neither of you speak, and you aren’t sure if it’s because you’re listening hard for the seekers or because you have nothing left to say.

The lid of the tote scrapes. You stop breathing. Jeonghan says something above you, drowned out by the beating of your heart. He pulls the lid off, and the moonlight filtering through the pinholes in the tarp might as well be a searchlight after the darkness.

Vernon’s face is inches from yours.

You blink, feeling like your eyelashes will brush his face with the motion. They don’t. Jeonghan pokes the tarp, hitting one of the bricks lying on your side. Apparently satisfied, he closes the lid. His footsteps recede.

Vernon’s face is still burned into your eyes like a sunspot.

He was staring at your lips.

You end up losing hide and seek, despite your perfect spot, because Minghao and Jun somehow managed to get onto Jeonghan’s roof (nobody’s managed to guess how and the pair smugly refuse to tell). The tournament ends with only Seungkwan and Wonwoo having not won any challenges. They change into swimsuits and dunk themselves in the baby pool, and then sprint back across the lawn to their towels yelling about the cold (you put a finger in; it wasn’t nearly as bad as when Jeonghan had filled it).

Vernon stops you before you get on your bike to get home.

“I’m. . . gonna be out of town for a couple weeks,” he says, one hand rubbing the back of his neck. “I can still facetime, but probably only in the mornings and evenings.”

“Okay,” you say, even as your heart sinks (he’s never been away this long).

“Yeah,” he says, and you stand there beside your bikes, looking at each other, like you’re both a little lost in what to do. His eyes keep flicking to your lips.

“So what’d you put for number seventeen?” you ask softly.

He doesn’t hesitate. “I think it could work,” he says, voice as soft as it was in the tote, and you find yourself leaning in to listen. “Easily, even, if it was someone as special as--”

He goes quiet. “As?” you prompt.

He shakes his head. “Someone special,” he says.

You haven’t drank at all but something still buzzes in your veins. It’s the first Saturday bonfire of the summer, and moon floats above the horizon like a glowing balloon, and a warm breeze caresses your skin, and you don’t feel afraid of anything.

“I guess it could work easy,” you say, “if it was someone like you.”

He stares at you long enough that you think maybe you overstepped and your cheeks start to heat and you duck your head and step back with something like an apology and--

--his lips crash into yours.

You don’t know if the kiss lasts for three seconds or three hours. All you know is when you break for breath, you find yourself caught in his eyes, the same familiar deep brown as you’ve seen for years growing up through schools and summers and camps and sleepovers, lying on the floor of the living room and whispering about movies and grades like they were the most important thing in the world.

And then you blink and the world unfreezes and he mumbles something about a curfew and you mumble something about your mom and as if pulled by the same strings you mount your bikes and pedal off in opposite directions.

You lie awake for hours, thinking about his eyes.

You facetime at any and all available hours. You find yourself staying up later to be able to catch him on a lunch break. And it’s hard, but you do it. Because, look, everyone on the block has known that his parents want him to go to Korea for college, and that he wants to go to Korea for college. For years you’ve known this moment was coming. And he’s only going to be there a couple weeks for some kind of tour he landed because his grandmother knows a guy who knows a gal who’s related to a guy who used to babysit for the guy on the school board, or something, and then he’ll come back and you can spend the remainder of the summer doing whatever.

Until then, you’re content to wake up earlier just to get an hour chatting with him before he goes to sleep. You show him all the pages you’ve marked in your mom’s old recipe book and tell him when he gets back you’ll make a couple and sell them for profit. You draw an official logo for Clean Mooters, and he suggests you add a restaurant as a side business that you two could run for extra profit. “Clean Mooters and Good Burgers,” he says, and then says, “No that’s terrible. I’ll keep thinking.”

“Are you the whole Clean Mooters marketing team?” you ask.

“Of course,” he says. “We both know all the business sense went to me.” And he smiles and you forget how to breathe.

You don’t talk about the kiss.

One time, he calls you, and your eyes swoop to check the time, because you know it’s crazy late where he is. You answer.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he says before you get a word out, and his voice is hoarse and it twists your stomach. “Can you-- just tell me about your new project?”

And you do; you’ve taken up crochet this week and your grandma gave you a couple pointers and you do your best calming ASMR voice as you repeat her pointers and what you plan to do to build your skill, and then end up going off on a tangent on whether Clean Mooters should have a gift shop selling cow merchandise (“It would make sense, there are a lot of cows around here.”) and when you pause to recollect your thoughts, all you hear is his quiet breathing.

The day Vernon’s set to return is a Thursday, which is perfect, because it gives him time to recollect himself before the Saturday bonfire, which will be the real welcome back party. On Thursday, you and the other kids on the block draw all over the street and then, when his flight is late and the sun goes down before he gets to the street, assemble to hold flashlights over the really good stuff. You only see his smile for a few brief seconds as the car goes past, but it’s enough to make your heart swell.

Friday you wake up to a knock on your bedroom door. “Hey, up and at ‘em, it’s noon!” Vernon calls through the door.

You groan and throw an arm over your face. “Says the guy who was still in bed at one pm that whole first week!”

“Yeah, and it was heaven. Come on, you get up fast enough and I’ll buy you a donut.”

You get dressed and meet him downstairs. “Try that again and I’ll convince my mom to rehide the spare key,” you threaten.

He just grins. “I’d be able to find it.” He picks up your bike helmet. “You want to get out of the neighborhood with me?”

You’d rob a bank if it was with him. “Absolutely.”

It’s a rush to be back on your bike, both of you pedaling faster and faster to try to be in front, weaving around the cars parked on the streetside and hopping the curb just to prove you can. Last week’s project was learning to ride a bike no handed and you show off the new skill as often as you can.

You go everywhere and nowhere. You hit up the mall and he buys you a donut and you wander the halls window shopping, and he buys a whole rainbow set of tinted glasses just because they looked cool; you break open the package the minute you own them and check out your reflection in the store window.

“We look ridiculous,” you say, adjusting the red pair so they sit better on your face.

“Speak for yourself,” Vernon says, turning to see himself from different angles. “I think purple’s exactly my color.”

You shove the blue pair on over the red, even though they barely fit on your nose, and stick your tongue out at him. “There, now we match.”

He puts on another pair of glasses and it turns into a competition of who can wear the most, and then into who can wear the most without getting a headache. That second winner was Vernon, but you won the first half.

You hit up the McDonalds in the food court and get the large cup for a dollar, and then go down the drink machine and hit it with just a quick blast of each, repeated over and over until the cup was full. It tastes like a mess of conflicting sugars and syrups. You drink the whole thing through separate straws. You can’t stop glancing at his lips. Your faces are so close.

You get ice cream and sit under the bridge over the creek to eat it, watching the sun go down somewhere downstream, listening to the cars whizzing past overhead.

“I missed you,” Vernon says.

“I missed you too,” you say, even though that doesn’t convey the half of it.

“During the school year--” He stops, and you glance over to see him staring into the sunset, his ice cream melting toward his fingers.

You take his free hand. “It’ll be hard, not being close for so long,” you say. “But-- we could do it. I’m not just going to stop talking to you because I have classes and-- you know how my sleep schedule gets during the year.”

He laughs, softly, lacing your fingers together. “I’ll be able to call and tell you to go to bed without you turning it on me.”

“Damn.” You scowl at your feet. “Didn’t think about that. You sure you can’t just go to Europe instead?”

“Nope,” he says. “You’re going to have to find a new defense.”

You sigh. “But Vernon that one’s worked since we were fourteen.”

“It never worked!”

“Yes it did because then it got you on the defensive instead!”

“But you still went to sleep when I hung up, didn’t you?”

Double damn. He’s right and you know he knows it, from the raised eyebrow look he’s giving you as he catches the ice cream that’s melting around the edges of his cone.

“. . . That’s entirely beside the point.”

He just grins. You bury your face in your ice cream cone, trying to devour the rest in a single bite to avoid the urge to pout. Of course, all that really does is get ice cream all over your face, but whatever. When you look back at him, he’s still looking at you, his eyes soft and fond and damn but you’re going to miss him like a lung when he’s gone.

“You’ve got a little something there,” he says, and you make a face at him to maybe hide how very obviously whipped you are and do your best to wipe it off with the pile of napkins you snatched.

“Better?”

“No, it’s still--” and he scoots in, and you both go really quiet as he wipes the ice cream from your cheek. His thumb traces your lip.

“You know,” you say, very softly, “if you wanted to kiss me you could’ve just asked.”

His eyes blink up to meet yours, and red tints his cheeks, but he still smiles. “Okay,” he says. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yeah.”

Your ice cream melts. (“It’s okay,” Vernon says, “I’ll buy you another.”)

[supernatural-jackles]

The Man on the Side of the Road - Part 13

Title: The Man on the Side of the Road - Part 13

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 3,834

Warnings: High Stress Levels, Mentions of the readers shitty Mom, FLUFF, All around cuteness! 

Summary: Driving down the road, going well over the speed limit. You come across a man walking in the opposite direction with a bouquet of flowers in his hands. His head cast down as he walked. Your gut instinct is telling you to check on this man, no matter what your parents told you growing up. Little did you know just how much this would change your life.

The Man on the Side of the Road - Masterlist

A/N: Three parts left after this one! I hope y’all enjoy this part! As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Happy Reading!! 

Your head was pounding. Your vision was starting to blur and everything looked the same. You felt like you had been awake for forty eight hours. Your stomach was in knots, your chest was tight. You were beyond exhausted.

 Finals were going to be the absolute death of you.

 You buried your face in your hands, trying your hardest to clear your eyes and make them see one thing instead of eight. You had been at this for hours and nothing was sticking. You needed to pass this final. It was the most important one and you needed a seventy five in order to advance to the class you were taking next semester. You needed to learn the next twenty definitions and the process of seven more things and you literally had no idea how you were going to pull this off.

 “Knock knock,” Dean called out from behind your door. You took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself.

 “Come in,” you called out, trying your hardest to sound okay. Your bedroom door opened and Dean walked in. He was wearing his new pyjama pants that Sam had sent him as an early Christmas present. They had presents scattered all over them, and quite frankly they looked cute on him.

 “Hey you,” he greeted you. “Still studying?”

 “More like dying,” you sighed.

 “Nothing’s sticking huh?” he frowned, taking a seat at the end of your bed, giving you a bit of space.

 “Nope,” you shook your head. “I am not going to pass this final at this rate. I’m stressed out, exhausted and all I want to do is sleep for ten years.”

 “Don’t say that, sweetheart. You just need a break,” he suggested. “Why don’t we go make some dinner and pie. I did the groceries so we’ve got some food in the house. I can make you one of my dad’s recipes and after we can make your grandma’s homemade apple pie recipe.”

 “What are we going to make for dinner?” you smiled. “Mac and cheese? Winchester surprise?”

 “I was thinking I could make your favourite chicken with some mac and cheese,” he said with a smirk.

 “You know I can’t resist that,” you squinted at him.

 “I know. That’s why I’m making it. You gotta come out of this room and you’ve gotta eat something that’s not dried cereal or leftover beef jerky from our road trip nearly two months ago.”

 “You’re making me sound like I have a problem,” you giggled.

  “You do. It’s called being overworked,” he chuckled. “Kitchen. Now. Then I need you to watch a short movie with me. Give yourself a break. After that, we can kiss a little and I will help you study for however long tonight,” he declared proudly, looking at you with a sweet smile

 “Okay. We’ll go with your plan, chief,” you said with a weak smile. “You win this time. You had me at kissing you.”

 “Let’s go.”

 The second you got to the kitchen, you felt guilty for not having your books in front of you. The worry of not passing this final was really starting to get to you. You knew Dean was right; that you needed a study break because nothing was going to stick if you kept trying to cram it in. He offered to help you later, and you prayed to god that it would stick in better.

 Dean had the pasta noodles on, and the chicken already in the oven, like he was planning this all along. All that was left was to grate the cheese, and he was already halfway done. You just got to sit there, and watch him do what he did best.

 “When I was little,” you started, glancing up at Dean, “my mom tried to teach me how to bake. Red velvet cookies were what I wanted to make because I saw a picture in a recipe book one day. So she found one that would work and picked out an afternoon to do so. I thought it was going to be fun. You know, spending time with my mom, just the two of us. But I accidentally dropped an egg on the floor, and of course it broke. My mom was furious with me and sent me to my room for destroying her good kitchen floor. All because the egg slipped out of my hand and fell.”

 “That is terrible,” Dean frowned. “Accidents happen all the time.”

 “It was,” you nodded. “She came into my room hours later with a single cookie for me to eat. It was the first time I looked at something and felt like I didn’t deserve it.”

 “Why are you telling me this?” He asked, turning to face you.

 “Because I feel like I don’t deserve you sometimes. Especially on days like today when I’m cranky as hell, and not so fun to be around. You’re here making sure I eat and don’t overwork myself, and I don’t deserve to have someone as great as you in my life.”

 “Yeah you do,” he argued with a smile playing on his lips. “You deserve to have someone looking out for you, Y/N. You do the same for me.”

 “Well, I’m glad I’ve got you,” you smiled.

 “Likewise,” he smiled softly. “When I was growing up, my dad was the one who taught me how to cook. He told me it was a valuable life skill that I would need one day. I was always taught that it wasn’t just a woman’s job to cook for the family. I don’t remember a whole lot of my parents together. I was four when she died. But what I do remember is that they were happy together, and I wanted to have that one day.”

 “Do you still want that?” you asked him.

 “Yeah,” he nodded. “I’ve got you. I know my parents loved each other. Even if I remember them arguing, and such. I asked my dad about her from time to time, and he always talked about her with that same look on his face that he had when he saw her. Their love was something real. That’s what I want.”

 “The real thing,” you teased. “Growing up, my dad was my best friend. He had this big office in our house that no one was allowed in but me. He had a chair in there for me, and a computer there for me to do work at one end of his desk. It was our space that my mom couldn’t enter. It was a safe place for me. His Sunday’s were spent playing golf, away from my mom. Those were supposed to be the days I spent with her but she never wanted to. She had her girlfriends over for drinks and I’d be shoved into my bedroom, away from everyone and everything. My parents never spent any time together when I was growing up. My dad travelled during the week for work. I spent Saturdays with him. The more I think about it now, I wonder why they waited until I was twelve to get divorced. They were never happy together.”

 “That’s not fair to you,” he commented.

 “No it’s not. It’s like some sort of arrangement for them, I think,” you agreed. “You want what your parents had, and I want anything but what my parents have. How strange is that?”

 “Have you ever gotten along with your mom?” Dean questioned as he poured the cheese into the noodles. “I know Ketch said to you at the diner that night that your mom loved him more than she did you. Is that true?”

 “Unfortunately yes,” you shrugged. “And for the longest time, that was so hard for me. I mean, my mom loved my boyfriend more than she loved me, and I was her daughter. God, my mom was more excited when she found out I was going out with Ketch than I was. Sure, his family is the richest, and their house is a million times bigger than this. Ketch literally doesn’t need a college degree for crying out loud. It’s not like we ever struggled with money. I mean my dad still makes amazing money and he bought this house for me so I wouldn’t have to stay with my mom while I went to school.”

 “He’s got connections to everything and your mom liked that huh?”

 “It made her look good. It was good for the parties and for all the people at the country clubs. It’s like he’s fucking royalty or something,” you scoffed. “My mom didn’t want me to go to college at first, actually. That’s one of the reasons why I’m so late in graduating. I fought hard to go, and she would only let me go as far as here. My dad fought for me. He knew I wanted my own life. My mom was determined. A girl like me shouldn’t have to work hard for one. The job at the hospital was hard enough work. At one point, she even told me I wasn’t smart enough to get in, which was untrue. It’s just not me. I can’t just sit somewhere and have everything done for me. I’ve never been that way, even if my mom tried to raise me that way. It wasn’t right. I think she thought that Ketch was going to turn me into someone that she’d approve of. A housewife. Someone like her.”

 “I could never see you sitting back and doing nothing,” he chuckled. “You work harder than a lot of people.”

 “Thanks, Dean,” you grinned. “I’m at the point where I’m trying not to care about her. I don’t answer my mom’s texts anymore. Her calls are ignored. I’m done dealing with it all. All it ever does is upset me and I’m tired of putting myself in that position. I gotta move past it all.”

 “Good for you, sweetheart,” he nudged your shoulder. “You graduate in June right?”

 “Maybe! If I pass this final and all my classes next semester, then yes,” you let out a dry laugh.

 “You will,” he reassured you. “You’ll get home tomorrow feeling relieved that it’s over with and that you aced it. I’ll pick up some pizza and beer on the way home, and we’ll celebrate.”

 “And I can pick the movie?” you asked with a wide smile.

 “‘Course you can,” he winked.

 You and Dean ate dinner with a constant flow of conversation. For the first time all day, you felt relaxed, and you knew that was going to do your brain some good. When you were to go back to studying, there was a good chance you were going to retain more than you could before.

 Dean was the first one to finish, and he instantly started on the dishes. You couldn’t help but watch him as he worked. His muscles flexed beneath his shirt every so often. It had been a whole two months since you had slept with him that night, and the morning after. Your feelings had only grown stronger for him. You were taking it slow, enjoying the ride as you went on. Since you already lived together, you kept the sleepovers until Friday and Saturday nights. You didn’t want to rush this and ruin things.  You wanted to still have that friendship between you. It was the most important thing to you.

 You were slowly but surely moving past the whole, not good enough for him thing. There were still days when you felt like you weren’t good enough for him, and that was normal. Most of the time, he was the one who made you feel like you were. He was always making sure you knew that you were doing good, especially in the moments when you felt like you weren’t. There wasn’t a single doubt in your mind that you weren’t head over heels for him. This had the potential to become what his parents had. This had the potential to be something amazing.

 You got up from the counter, placing your utensils in the sink and your plate on top of his. You reached for the towel, taking the first mug out of the sink, drying it off. Dean gave you a soft smile before returning back to what he was doing. Your heart began to race in your chest.

 You wondered exactly what was going through his mind. If he was thinking about dinner, or anything else in specific. You wondered if he looked at you and thought the same thing you did when you looked at him. If he thought you were beautiful. If he thought he was lucky to have someone like you in his life. It was the little things.  

 There was a part of you that wanted to tell him that you loved him. You knew it wouldn’t be the worst thing to say, especially with how long he had been in your life. But at the same time, you were always the one who expressed how you felt first and that never worked out for you in the end. It was fear this time around. You didn’t want to push it so far only to have it crash and burn in the end. Dean was all you had at this point. You could wait. You could wait a lifetime for him. He was worth it.

 “Pie time?” he chuckled, pulling the apples out of the fridge. A few weeks ago, you had decided to go apple picking one Sunday. He remembered the day you met him that you mentioned something about your grandma’s recipe needing fresh autumn apples. He thought it would be a good date idea for the two of you and it was. It was one of the memories you think about that makes you smile.

 “Pie time,” you nodded.

 You opened up the cupboard, grabbing your book of recipes. Dean was already pulling out everything you needed from the fridge. You stifled your laugh, knowing just how excited he was for this. Quite frankly you were too. He was like a kid when he was excited and you loved that about him.

 He peeled and cut the apples while you made the pie crust. You worked side by side, bumping into one another a few times while you worked. You tried your hardest to focus on the pie in front of you, but when he stood so close, you couldn’t help but look over.

 “You’re cute,” he muttered, taking a slice of apple, bringing it up to his lips.

 “You’re cute,” you smiled, taking a bit of flour before flicking him. The white dust covering part of his shirt and his cheeks.

 “You’re going to pay for that,” he threatened with a laugh, placing his hand in the flour before rubbing your face. “Much better.”

 “Dean!” you shrieked, letting out a laugh. You smirked, inching closer to him, wiping your cheek on his shirt. He gasped, laughing in the process. “Okay, I actually have to finish this if you want to eat this tonight.”

 “Fine,” he grumbled, flicking you once more before getting back to work.

 You managed to get everything ready within half an hour. Dean added a lot of apples into the pie, and extra cinnamon. You smiled when he helped you with the top of the pie, patting it down with you. Your hands brushing against one anothers every so often. He took it when it was done, and put it in the oven for you. You were really looking forward to tasting it after this.

 His hands made their way to your hips, backing you up to the opposite counter until you hit it. He lifted you up quickly, his body settling between your legs before his lips were on yours. His kisses started off slow and soft; chaste. Moving in a perfect sync with yours as his large hands travelled over the length of your back. You melted against him, allowing yourself to enjoy being with him like this. It was really nice to have a boyfriend that wanted to kiss you the way he did on a constant basis.

 “You want to watch a movie, or a few episodes of Dr Sexy? You’re nearly caught up,” he pointed out as he placed a slice of pie on your plate. “Fuck, this pie is amazing.”

 “Dr Sexy!” you stated. “Gotta see if Dr Sexy and Dr Tara get together. I’m glad you like the pie.”

 “I love how into this show you are,” he let out a laugh.

 “This is your fault,” you side eyed him. “I wouldn’t be in this mess if it weren’t for you.”

 “Hey, this is on you too. I had no idea you had a medical kink,” he winked.

 “So do you, Winchester,” you teased. “You and I both know if I dressed as a nurse, you’d have a field day.”

 “There is no denying that,” he shrugged. “You’d make such a hot nurse.”

 Dean pulled it up on the tv as you sat down in your designated spot. Right next to Dean. It was one of your favourite parts of movie nights. He’d always end up playing with your hair while the movie ended, and you soaked up every second of the attention he was giving you.

 “Can I ask you something?” Dean asked about halfway through the episode.

 “You just did,” you turned to face him with a wide smile. “What’s up?”

 “What’s the plan after you graduate?”

 “Honestly, I’m not entirely sure yet,” you answered. “I have lots of options, and I think that’s what matters the most.”

 “Which one sounds the best?” he questioned.

 “Teacher’s college,” you breathed out. “The one my mom would hate the most.”

 “For that reason?”

 “That’s a bonus,” you chuckled. “But I think I could make a good career as a teacher.”

 “My mom was a kindergarten teacher,” he revealed, giving you a soft smile. “I think that would be an amazing career path for you. You know I’ll support you in anything you want to do.”

 “Thank you,” you smiled. “I have to apply at the end of January, so I still have time. But it’s definitely something I’ve thought about for a little while now.”

 “You’re good at helping people. I’ve learned so many things from you,” he added. “You’d make an amazing teacher.”

 The episode finished, and you needed to get back to studying. You couldn’t relax any longer. You needed to get these last few things down before you could go to bed. You flopped down on your bed, opening up your notebook. Dean was in not long after you with two mugs of peppermint tea. You knew that there was nowhere he’d rather be than here with you, making sure you got this material down.

 It was around midnight when you packed it all up and crawled into bed. Your eyes were drooping, and words started to blend together. You studied the best you could and you felt a million times better than you did earlier. Dean helped you get down the last eighteen definitions and you had memorized the processes you needed to. You have this final in the bag.

 Dean left your room to go lock up the house, something he did nightly for you. You flicked your side light off before curling into your pillow. A few moments later, you felt your bed shift, the comforter moving just a little, before the bed dipped next to you. Dean was sleeping next to you tonight.

 “Gonna sleep with you tonight,” he whispered, linking his pinky with yours.

 “Good,” you muttered. “Night handsome.”

 “Night sweetheart,” he mumbled, reaching over to place a kiss to your forehead.

                                  ------------------------------------

 You walked through the front door with a smile playing on your lips. Friday were the best days. The start of the weekend. The best damn part of the week. You kicked your shoes off, heading straight for the kitchen with your bag in hand. You couldn’t wait to start the weekend off right with the man you loved. 

 “I’m home!” you called out.

 “Hey beautiful,” a familiar voice filled your ears. Your smile only grew wider. Your eyes glanced over to the counter where he stood. The sleeves of his flannel shirt rolled up to his elbows, revealing his strong, toned forearms that drove you crazy.

 “Hey sexy,” you winked at him. “How was your day?”

 “Great. Bobby gave me a raise today,” he revealed. “He said I had been working really hard the last few months and it’s paying off.”

 “Dean! That’s amazing,” you grinned widely, dropping your bag to the ground. You circled the counter quickly, reaching Dean in an instant. You stood on your tiptoes, your lips crashing to his, kissing him hard as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. “I’m so proud of you!”

 “Couldn’t have done it without you,” he smiled, licking his bottom lip. “You’re my rock.”

 “And you’re mine,” you whispered, reaching up to kiss him once more.

 “How was your day, sweetheart?” he asked, tugging you in close to him.

 “Good. No tears today. No parents to call. And it’s Friday,” you chuckled. “Today’s a good day.”

 “How’s our baby girl?” he questioned. His right hand slipped from the small of your back to your growing bump.

 “Why don’t you ask her?”

 Dean kneeled down to your stomach, pressing his lips to the bump. His hand held either side of your stomach. It had to be the best thing you had seen and he did it over and over again. She already had her daddy wrapped around her tiny little finger. She was going to be a daddy’s girl for sure. This was exactly what you wanted.

 “Hey baby girl,” he said softly. “You being good for your mom in there? Not kicking her insides too much?”

 “Not today,” you whispered.

 “I love you, peanut,” he muttered, pressing another kiss to your stomach. “And I love you, sweetheart.”

 “Not as much as we love you,” you smiled.

---------------

 You shot right up, your eyes opening widely. Your heart was pounding in your chest. You swallowed hard, realizing that it was just a dream and it was the middle of the night. Dean was still fast asleep, facing your direction.

 For a moment, it actually felt real. It actually felt like you and Dean were going to end up together, and you were having a baby together. It actually looked like life was looking good for the two of you. God, the way he kissed your stomach. Ugh, and the way he kissed you. It was everything you wanted and more. It was everything you wanted with the person you loved.

 “You okay?” Dean breathed out, shifting a little. He never even opened his eyes.

 “Yeah,” you whispered.

 “Bad dream?” He asked you, popping one eye open.

 “No. Good dream. Best dream I’ve had in awhile. I’m just sad it came to an end,” you admitted.

 “Dr Sexy?”

 “Something better,” you rolled your eyes. “I’ll tell you some other time.”

 “What if you forget?” He cocked his eyebrow with his one eye still open.

 “Trust me. I will never forget this dream.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Did you like it? What was your favourite part? Share your thoughts with me via reblog, reply or send me an ask! Your response is what keeps me sharing stories like this! 

[episodes-ff]

2. Young Metro Man

Malik

“Yea, girl. Ride that dick, just like that.” I groaned as she dug her nails into my chest. Smacking her ass roughly, she whimpered tossing her hair to the side as I bit my lip and drove deeper. “Ahh shit! You like how deep Daddy feel inside you?” “Yessss, baby! Oh fuck!” Feeling myself tensing up as my nut rounded closer, I was interrupted by the sound of keys jingling. “Fuck! Hold up real quick.” Pulling out, I grabbed a towel and headed out to the living room to see my niece, Airi, kicked up on the couch watching Cheaters.

“You don’t ever think to knock once in a while?” “Oh, hey, Uncle Malik! You remember you said you were gonna help me with my homework this school year? I hope you and your lady friend don’t mind that I came early.” She smiled flashing her unquestionable dimpled smile as I sighed. “Nah, I don’t mind. Wait right here while I, uh, clean my room.”

I love my niece to death, but damn! Can a nigga get some pussy?! Giving home girl her cue to leave, she copped an attitude as she threw on her clothes and stormed out of the apartment. Coming back out, Airi was setting her books neatly across the dining room table before smiling up at me.

Kolita

Finishing my makeup, I was flicking up in the mirror when I got interrupted Kaiden being annoying. “Man what you got going on in here?” “Ugh can you go somewhere? Always barging in!” “Shut up! This is my bathroom. And take that dumb shit off, you look crazy.” “Oh I look crazy? That’s not what your boys was saying the other day when they were tryna holla at me.” “Of course, they’re dogs. They love barking at meat.” Going to slap him, my hand was grabbed and we looked over to see my mom and dad heated. “Family meeting, NOW!”

“Now what the hell is the problem between you two?” Speaking at the same time, mom rolled her eyes before clapping her hands. “Heyyy! One at a damn time! Kolita, you first. What happened?” “Well, I was minding my own business and he barged in talking crazy about my appearance and then he called me a piece of meat!” “Is that true, Kaiden?” “Yea, I called her that cause that’s how she acts. She’s already parading around my friends all scandalous and she only does it to get a rise out of me, so I called her out on it. She just mad that she a thot.” “Aye! Watch your damn mouth. That is your sister at the end of the day! You are her older brother, my first born, meaning you need to step up and be a guide for your siblings if shit is getting outta pocket. And Kolita, you my first born daughter. You need to be mature enough to handle a situation without resulting in violence cause this ain’t the first time you’ve gotten crazy with your hands and not your words. I’m disappointed in both of y’all.” Dad lectured as Aja whined for mom to pick her up.

“Now since you two can’t learn to get along or agree, you will be going with me to grandma and grandpa Wills’ house to help clean up.” “But, Da-“ “No buts. I don’t want to hear anything about it. You’re both going this Saturday and that’s final.” “I got a date for Saturday, pops.” “Cancel. You going with me.” “Man, this is some-“ “Some what, Kolita? I’d love to hear it.” “Nothing.” “Mhm. Gone upstairs and pack some clothes for this weekend.” “Yes ma’am.”

Kyla

Carrying the bags of groceries, I strutted down the hallway and got to the door before using my key to get into the apartment. Walking in, I smiled as I saw Airi packing up her school supplies. “Hey, beautiful!” “Kyla! Oh my god, I missed you!!!” She grinned hugging me close as I giggled. “How have you been? How’s school?” “It’s going ok. There is this girl that’s trying to intimidate me, but I can handle her.” “What girl?” Malik said shooting out of his seat. “Airi, don’t worry about your uncle. He’s just loco.” Giggling, she helped me put up groceries while Lik watched lazily from the couch.

“So how is it traveling the world? Ugh, I’m so jealous.” “It’s amazing. New places, new people! All around good vibes, you know?” “What was your favorite place to travel to?” “By far? Los Angeles was so invigorating.” “But you always go back and forth between Cali and Atlanta, what changed?” “A lot has definitely changed.” “Ooooh, what’s his name?” “Well, I’m not one for much of the gossiping, but I will say this. The title ‘Mr. Steal Yo Girl’ is definitely befitting.” “Ohhh my god!” She gushed before being interrupted by her phone as I noticed Malik sulking. “Hey, I’m sorry to cut this short, but I gotta get home.” “I totally understand. See you around, love.” “You too.” She smiled leaving with just me and him in the apartment.

“You hungry?” I asked pulling out the skillet and other items. “I could eat.” Feeling him eyeing me as I turned on the stove, I washed my hands and started cooking. “So what have you been up to Malik?” “Same old regular nigga shit.” “Here we go...” “So you really talking to that clown?” “He’s not a clown, Malik, and he makes me happy.” Towering over me, we stared intensely as he cornered me into the countertop. Leaning down until our lips almost touched, he gently tugged at my dress and stared into my eyes. “So I can’t make you happy again?” He husked against my neck as my breathing picked up. “Malik.” “Yes, baby?” He breathed sitting me on the counter. “Your food’s ready.” I said before sliding away from him and hopping down to turn the stove off. Plating his food for him, I sat it on the counter in front of him before gently kissing his cheek. “I gotta go. See you around, Lik.”

[jadewing-realms]

“You should have seen it.”

Fictober 2018 - Day 18

Yeah you could be Someone special You've got bright in your brains and Lightning in your veins You'll go higher then they've ever gone In you I see Someone special You've got fire in your eyes and When you realize You'll go further then we've ever gone (look) Just turn it on

~ Miracles (Coldplay)

Sasuke has been in Izuku’s room a hundred times at this point. They’re thirteen now, they’ve been friends since second grade, and they basically live in each others’ houses by now. Everything in his house is familiar to Izuku, and everything in Izuku’s is familiar to him. Sasuke can always notice if something new appears, always asks about it or admires it out loud. That said, the Midoriya household is generally very constant—steadfast, predictable. Bargain interior decorations, as Mrs. Midoriya has scruples, and more practical items than anything else. With… the exception of Izuku’s room. Every long now and again, like today, Sasuke feels the need to stop in the doorway and let his gaze drift over the overwhelming amount of red, white, blue and yellow plastered in every available bit of wall or shelf space.

The sheer volume of All Might memorabilia sometimes hits him square between the eyes and makes him feel like he needs to blink, rapidly, for a minute or two. Or several.

Sasuke shakes the compulsion away and sets his backpack down next to Izuku’s yellow one. More yellow… I forget he uses the color so much. Izuku’s already on his way back out into the main living space, squeezing past Sasuke when both of them occupy the space in the doorframe for a brief second.

“We were almost late,” Izuku huffs with obvious relief. “We made it back just in time!” He scampers off down the hallway and calls, louder here than he ever is at school. “Ready, Mom!”

With a smirk that holds more fondness than Sasuke intends, he follows after his friend.

Whenever he comes over after a long school day, it’s become a tradition of sorts to help Mrs. Midoriya make dinner. Sasuke’s never minded; not when he’s adding to her work with his presence. It’s always seemed fair that he contribute for himself. Mrs. Midoriya turns on some music—usually oldies; her music tastes are charmingly outdated, and growing up with this musical influence made it rub off on Izuku—and then she’ll assign each of the boys a portion of the cooking. Usually something simple and straightforward, like chopping vegetables, or cooking the rice, boiling noodles. She always handles the more difficult tasks, and still finds time to give them guidance with their tasks.

Then, when they’re all finished and the food is steaming and ready to serve, they all sit around the table and Mrs. Midoriya asks them how their day was. About their classes, their favorite part of the day, anything special that happened. They fill her in, give her details, leave some out—mostly Izuku refrains from any mention of whatever torment he had to endure that day at the hands of the sheep-headed masses who follow the example set by the likes of Bakugou Katsuki. Yes, today goes by much the same way every other day does.

When they finish eating, as usual, they load up the dishwasher together and, once it’s running, the boys are free to retreat to Izuku’s room. Today’s a Friday; tomorrow is Saturday and Sasuke’s gotten permission to stay the night for the first time in a while, so long as they finish their homework. They had spent the whole of the walk home from school coming up with things they could do this time.

Usually, they study, they talk Heroes, they watch YouTube videos, they talk more Heroes. Izuku brainstorms his Hero costume, Sasuke brainstorms his tech.

Again, though, Sasuke finds himself pausing a minute to look over the posters on Izuku’s walls… the figurines on his shelf… the notebooks stacked on his desk. Then he looks to his friend, who’s nose is still buried in his textbook as he does what their mothers requested, and can’t help but think…

He doesn’t need a Quirk.

Nobody else seems willing to tell him that though. Izuku’s told him (and only him) of what his mother said to him the day they found out about his lack of powers. And Sasuke’s witnessed first hand the way he’s treated in class… sometimes by the teachers themselves.

It’s true, despite his somewhat mediocre existence here at home, Izuku’s not ‘normal,’ not by a long shot. He is... unique. Fun. Outstanding, even. So he doesn’t have this One Thing that eighty percent of the population does. Sasuke understands that, understands it’s uncommon. What he doesn’t understand is why, exactly, that’s looked at as a negative thing.

Izuku has plenty of other amazing things he can do, even things he’s better at than most people.

Like homework. Izuku tears through it like a starving man inhales a loaf of bread. Every time, too. He’s as fast as Sasuke, and his grades are just as good. Midoriya Izuku is smarter than the average person.

Once they finish their studies up like good students aiming for futures in Hero work, they dive to the computer. As per tradition, the first thing they watch is Izuku’s old favorite. The classic throwback, of one of All Might’s debut rescues.

After that, they get lost in suggested views, allowing themselves to spiral deep down the YouTube rabbit hole… for science. Izuku takes notes, as usual.

Except… it’s really not normal in a general sense, is it? Sasuke’s never met anyone as dedicated to Heroism as Izuku.

Even if the likes of Bakugou Katsuki would try to insist otherwise.

Nah, Bakugou Katsuki is basic. Average. The usual. Boring. Not to mention annoying as h***, and a narcissist to boot. Why does someone outstanding like Izuku waste his efforts on somebody like that? Sasuke just shakes his head.

“Hm?” Uh oh, Izuku notices. Wait, Sasuke actually shook his head? Whoops… “What’s wrong?”

Sasuke blinks against the glare of light from the screen. He… well, now he needs to think of something to actually say. Something useful, thought-provoking, since they only do this to better their instincts and understanding of their chosen craft…

“I feel like we’ve seen all these already,” he points out. And it’s true. Everything they’ve been watching, he’s almost positive they’ve watched at least once before, if not more often. He knows what’s going to happen before it does, and as much as he does like these Heroes and their escapades captured for all to see via some idiotic bystander’s camera phone, he can’t say he’s feeling ‘the usual’ so much tonight.

Not when he’s being hounded by constructs of society like some middle-aged philosopher during a full moon.

“Hmmm…” Izuku scrolls away from the video right when Death Arms is mid-uppercut, searching for… something. Anything, Sasuke supposes. Something they haven’t seen before. Then suddenly, he sits straight, face lighting up as a thought occurs. “Oh! Did you see what happened just the other day?”

Sasuke raises an eyebrow. “What other day?”

“Oh, I dunno… it was, like, last weekend? Over in Minato, All Might took down a crazy villain. I got to watch from the street corner!”

“I heard something about that from the gossips in class, but no, I haven’t seen anything.” Sasuke shifts in his seat, tucking one foot underneath him. “We were visiting my grandma. She doesn’t have internet.”

Izuku’s eyebrows jump. “No inter—gosh, how can you even function without—”

“Nobody knows.”

With a quick headshake, Izuku hunches over the keyboard and lets his fingers fly. “Lemme see if I can find some footage; there’s gotta be something up by now.”

Indeed, when he searches ‘all might minato fight’ a great selection of results come up. Several have high view counts but are from months past, but the top result is from just a few days ago. It’s title reads ‘CRAZY All Might battle vs ROCK MONSTER (actuall footage).’

“Ah, a grammarian,” Sasuke murmurs with a fair dose of sarcasm.

Izuku giggles, but abruptly silences himself as the video begins to play. A click and it fills the screen, expanding the blurry view of a city street, from the perspective of a phone that appears to be bouncing. From the wind and puffing sounds, not to mention the violent jerking of the footage, the person holding it is running, down the sidewalk, and comes upon a crowd of people at the corner. Several others have their phones out and over their heads.

Halfway down the block, visible once the camera’s jittering stills somewhat, a massive villain made of stone looms, swinging its arm like a giant mace at the spangley hero that’s currently launching himself through said villain’s personal space. The bystanders are all murmuring, some shouting, cheering, the guy behind the camera is uttering expletives of pure awe and wonder, and above it all, All Might’s raucous laughter booms over the rumble of heavy rock.

“IS THAT ALL YOU’VE GOT, BIG GUY!?” the hero trumpets just before he delivers a Washington Smash to the underside of the rock monster’s jaw. The crowd goes wild. Sasuke leans forward in his seat, trying to see through the camera blurs despite knowing there’s no way he’ll be able to get a better look at the action.

Then the moron drops his phone, there’s a harried curse and the crunch of plastic on concrete, the hushed fumble of fingers, and the video ends.

Izuku whimpers a little. “Dang it, that was so short…”

“You could probably describe what happened to me better than any video.” Easing out of his investment, Sasuke leans back in his chair and levels his friend with a steady, expectant stare.

Come on. Do your thing.

Izuku laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. “I dunno, probably not, but… I can try!”

With a sudden vigor belying his previous hesitation, he then launches into a detailed eye-witness account of a rock monster that tried to attack the Number One Hero’s agency building like a total idiot and of how that Number One Hero launched right out of said building to engage with the monster himself. He lays the scene out play by play, describing each of All Might’s moves and counter moves with a level of specificity that’s more than enough to convince Sasuke that it happened exactly as Izuku tells it.

“He had the thing ambling around in circles!” he says, hands splaying animatedly in his retelling. “He was so fast! The rock villain brought his arm down like a pile-driver and All Might just swung off his arm—not an ounce of fear! For every time the villain missed, All Might would land a hit like it was nothing. And he was laughing the whole time! The rock villain got so frustrated, he didn’t even know which way to look. Then All Might finished him off with a Texas Smash that threw him a whole block down the street! You should have seen it!”

Sasuke doubts Izuku notices that whenever he talks about All Might, he looks just as fearless. Whether that makes All Might a crutch… or just means Izuku’s that passionate and dedicated to this dream, Sasuke’s not sure but he’d like to believe it’s the latter. He’s used to being surrounded by… well, depression. Grim reality. That’ll happen when the brother you looked up to and idolized (much like how Izuku looks up to All Might, actually…) turns out to be a psycho killer and takes your Heroic father away from you and widows your mother.

But Izuku… it’s like, no matter what he’s been through, he can still smile and fanboy like this—without fear. Sure, he hasn’t been through quite what Sasuke has… but that’s good, he supposes. Better to be average in that area.

Izuku meets his gaze and stills his laughter, looking a bit confused at the fact that Sasuke, as he now realizes, is staring.

“What?” Izuku blinks. “What’s that look for?”

Sasuke snorts, and his answer comes a bit more easily this time. “You really like All Might, don’t you?”

“I… I mean…” Izuku glances around his room, at the computer screen, and finally at his lap, and a small smile creeps across his lips, milder and more hesitant than the grin that had beamed from his face just seconds before. “Well, yeah. He’s… he’s the reason I want to become a Hero in the first place. He’s why I keep… trying. Hoping. I just… I can only dream that maybe, some day… I can be even a fraction of the Hero he is. He’s… he’s extraordinary.”

“Hm…” Sasuke follows the path of Izuku’s previous glance. All Might’s smiling face surrounds them, to an almost unnerving degree, his presence radiating from the walls. And he thinks… that if Izuku has these in here not only as a shrine to his ultimate inspiration, but also as a ward to keep the poisonous barbs from the outside World of Mediocrity from sticking to him once he crosses the threshold of this space… that makes All Might cooler than any villain fight.

And it makes Izuku pretty d*** cool too.

“Yeah, I guess he is.” Sasuke returns his attention back to his friend, who’s staring now at the notebook he has on the desk top between them. He’s opened it to his sketch page, where his concept drawings for his Hero costume are. Sasuke taps the page. “He’d be cooler without the rabbit ears, though.”

Izuku gasps like Sasuke just uttered the bitterest of heresies and he needs a cross to shove in his face or something. “No, the ears are iconic!!”

“Izuku, the guy’s the definition of an icon, and I doubt he’d be any less of one if he nixxed the weird haircut.”

“Noooo, he needs the haircut. It makes him approachable.”

“Uh-huh. Well, in that case, don’t you think you’re bordering on plagiarism with your bunny hood, there?”

“What!? D-Do you really think—”

As Izuku launches to his own defense, Sasuke just smiles to himself. Partly in amusement, and with just a hint of fondness.

No, Izuku, I don’t really think that. I just think you’ll be fine being Just You.

[unworthy-stars]

Embracing Greece Week 9

Hello everybody and happy Easter! Today is a special season for the Greek nation as well as the Orthodox Christian community since it was Easter Sunday and we celebrated the resurrection of Jesus Christ! Thus no one could miss posting about the local traditions and speaking about general customs.

This week we are talking about Greek Easter

As I mentioned before, the other day was the Orthodox Easter (8th April 2018). It is a movable date, just like the Catholic/Protestant Easter and it is always at the end of the Holy Week.

To begin with, traditionally in the Orthodox Church and the Greek community, the Easter is a much more meaningful date than Christmas. In result, it is celebrated more intensively and friskily than 25th December. The reason behind this change isn't just because of the different churches but also because of the meaning of Easter. In Greece, the resurrection of Christ has a meaning of hope and victory since Jesus won over Death and Devil and could go through all tortures to finally take it all. What an allegory.

Of course and it needs a great psychological preparation. So since Clean Monday (an also movable date) until Easter Sunday (48 days) all devoted Christians fast, do not eat any meat, just to be emotionally connected to Jesus. Of course and dates vary between churches and it includes dates such as the Lazarus Saturday.

But all Greek traditions exist in the last week of fasting, the Holy Week (Palm Sunday until Holy Saturday). To summarise everything, I have decided to list everything~

Palm Sunday (Κυριακή των ΒαΪων): Decoration of Churches with Palm Leaves. Local traditions in several areas occur (further use of the leaves) Holy Monday (Μεγάλη Δευτέρα): Dedicated to Joseph, son of Jacob. The Christians go to church to listen to hymns. Holy Tuesday (Μεγάλη Τρίτη): Dedicated to the Troparion of Kassiani (Τροπάριο της Κασσιανής) Spy Wednesday (Μεγάλη Τετάρτη): Dedicated to sinful women that followed Jesus. The day Judas agreed to betray Jesus Maundy Thursday (Μεγάλη Πέμπτη): The Last Supper takes place. Christians paint eggs red and bake biscuits. Girls decorate the epitaph (Επιτάφιος)  Good Friday (Μεγάλη Παρασκευή): Jesus is crucified. Strict fasting (drinking is prohibited). Deposition of the Cross and the representation of Christ’s tomb is carried. Important local churches might gather to a central point. Holy Saturday (Μεγάλο Σάββατο): Jesus’ journey in the afterlife. Last day of fasting. Easter Sunday (Κυριακή του Πάσχα): Jesus is resurrected, Big feast.

All you need to know is the fun details below! Do not worry about any Christianity-related points which require Bible extracts. The fun has just begun!

~Everyone knows it is Easter time on Palm Sunday. Greeks don’t do much themselves, but it is the only date they are allowed to start fasting (in case they didn’t the previous 40 days due to health/age reasons).

~Only a few really care about Holy Monday- Holy Wednesday. They are working dates for everyone so the holidays haven’t even started.

~On Maundy Tuesday we have the painting eggs tradition! We paint eggs red to symbolize a myriad of things that no one really knows! The truth is red is an important colour for Christianity as it symbolises the blood of Jesus and His Royalty. It could be connected to other Biblical events including Virgin Mary and Maria Magdalena. 

(Here is the process of painting eggs. Photos taken by me, process done by my mother)

~Traditionally girls would decorate the Epitaph (Επιτάφιος) but now it is done by professional florists just so it looks presentable.

~There is a special tradition concerning godparents and their godchild. Every Easter, they have to present the child with a λαμπάδα (lampada- candle) and a gift, as well as a big chocolate egg. This special decorated candle will be lit on Holy Saturday night.

(Here is mine this year. Photo taken by me~)

These candles come in all shapes and colours with every imaginable motifs, patterns and decorative pieces.

(Here are a few handmade chocolate eggs taken from this site)

~During the Holy Saturday night everyone gathers up at the church with their λαμπάδα and wait for it to be precisely midnight and be given the Holy Light, by the priests. As soon as the light is given to everyone, inside and outside the church, the priests and all Christians sing the same song said in the scripts:

Χριστὸς ἀνέστη ἐκ νεκρῶν   Christ is risen from the dead θανάτῳ θάνατον πατήσας    having beaten Death by death καὶ τοῖς ἐν τοῖς μνήμασι        and to those in the graves ζωὴν χαρισάμενος               having given the gift of life.

I took a video of the church I went to, but unfortunately due to the bells ringing the quality wasn’t good enough to be posted! Here you can have a better sample of how the night looks like and how the song is pronounced! I repeat that the video isn’t mine.

(Triggers: Christianity, loud noises?)

~ After the ritual mentioned above families gather up at home and usually burn a bit the entrance of their house, always entering by their right food for luck! Do not worry, no accidents are made and no one burns their door! Since everyone values their properties this tradition has started to fade away but a whole bunch of people still keep up with it!

What matters most about what happens after though...Did you forget already? It is past midnight! It is Sunday! Fasting has ended!

As soon as the Christians return home, they eat a traditional dish called μαγειρίτσα (mageiritsa) which mostly consists of different internals of lamb (συκωταριά), onions, wine, olive oil and lettuce in a soup form!

(Here is the μαγειρίτσα we ate~)

Of course and people don’t enjoy such tastes at the moment so we have a normal feast along with the traditional dish! This is the time we crack the eggs we had painted on Holy Thursday!

How to crack the Eggs: Top 10 Anime Battles

Step 1. Choose your Egg

Step 2. Find an opponent. You track them down by seeing them holding an untouched red egg.

Step 3. Give them the death glare.

Step 4. Hold your egg with the pointy edge facing to the ceiling. Your opponent is about to attack, you have to be patient.

Step 5. They attacked. Has your fighter cracked? Or did your opponent’s hit return back? Either way, you both have a second chance.

Step 6. It is your time to respond. Hold your egg so its butt (round part) is faced to the floor. Hit, gently, your opponent’s butt.

Step 7. The battle is over. Who won? You decide!

(Here is a slow motion video of the process! It doesn’t belong to me)

~ But the fun doesn’t end here! We are Greeks and the fun never ends!

Later in the day, friends and family gather at houses and start an even bigger feast. In this feast, it is tradition that we roast lamb and yet two other traditional dishes, κοκορέτσι (kokoretsi) and κοντοσούβλι (kontosouvli). Both of them are cooked all over the Balkan peninsula and sometimes Turkey. The first one is made by several internals of the lamb while the second is made by pork.

The feast always includes drinking, dancing and a lot of gossiping.

(This is κοκορέτσι & some sausages made by Grandma Eleftheria)

That was my endless post about Greek Easter! ANY Questions you have, please ask (My Inbox is empty 24/7). ANYTHING you want to learn about Greek culture, please ask. ANYTIME you want, please ask. Please ask!

~Sia

[severingt]

Mary, my paternal grandmother

My paternal grandmother wasnever as popular as my maternal one, presumably for that reason? However, where do my thoughts begin? My dad’s parents lived in a rented terraced house in Milton which she kept spotlessly clean. It was a turn of the century house, small wall and front garden, the front door was to the right of the building. As you go through the door the stairs were almost directly in front of you and to the right. Behind the door was a lucky horseshoe. At the end of the hall was a half table with a lamp on it; to the right was under the stairs. Directly to the left of the halftable and straight ahead was the door into the parlour / living room. To the left of this door was the dining room door and to the left of that was the door into the front room.

As you enter the parlour, directly ahead was a dinner table and then the television in front of a window looking out onto the sideway to the garden. Beside the window, to the right was the door into the kitchen. Then on the right hand wall were two built in units either side of the fireplace; which had been blocked up and an electric fire of the period, with plastic imitation coals now sat. On the right hand unit was always a plant in a glass vessel where the bulb sat in the cupped top and the roots spread down into the bottom part which was filled with water. In the cupboard to the left of the chimney breast was where the biscuits were kept. The parlour led on to the kitchen which seemed to be a bit of a haphazard affair painted in blue gloss. As you step down into it there was the fridge onthe right followed by a table under which was the twin tub washing machine.Then there was the cooker, then a work surface, I think which crossed the room. Coming back was the sink and a door into the garden then you’re back in the parlour again. There was an outside toilet tagged onto the end of this building. She had some really nice furniture, big polished tables, sideboards and an upright piano in pride of place in the front room. No one ever played it, or could play it for that matter; but there it stood, magnificent and gleaming…just waiting. My best memory of the dining room was one Sunday when my uncle and his family had come over for the weekend – they lived in a little village outside of East Grinstead, called Ashurst Wood. My uncle had spent an age cooking Sunday lunch and had served it up, it did look the business. So, after everyone had been served he sat down to eat and asked for the salt and pepper cellars, which were those little yellow and blue Tupperware ones that everyone had at the time. Picking up the pepper first, he flicked the lid off and inverted it ready to shake over his food. It was then that the top fell off and into his food, closely followed by the contents of the, till then, full pepper cellar. I laughed, it was funny. He seethed, fired off a scathing complaint to his mother and attempted to scoop the excess pepper from his rapidly cooling roast dinner. We used to go to her house on a Wednesday after school. She used to buy a fresh cream filled sponge cake, usually. I think we had sandwiches and also Maryland cookies. Fruit was something I don’t remember having at home, but my grandma had some. That’s where my lifelong love of oranges, and specifically blood oranges, came from. She was a portly woman with a big double chin, very wispy hair, big round belly and bony legs. My brother and I never liked her kissing us as it always stung our faces; much later I found out that she shaved her top lip hair [badly] and it was this stubble that punctured our young skin. She enjoyed a drink, I can remember her with a glass of beer. She was a great cook, her fruit pies, specifically her rhubarb ones were nothing short of magnificent. They had a grumpy old terrier bitch called Gora, apparently named after their hometown of Gorey, County Wexford which they fed on the cheapest dog food available, Chappie. It was years later that my childhood asthma would be attributed to this bitch, when I bought a collie bitch and the asthma returned. Years before, with her sister Sara, she had been in service in Ireland. At a guess, I would say that’s where she learned her cooking skills. The back garden was like a small market garden, well, it was ‘The Good Life’years before the TV show. Onions, potatoes, carrots, runner beans, Brussels sprouts, apples, raspberries, rhubarb, blackberries were just some ofthe fruit and vegetables I can think of. However,I do have a lasting memory of one Pancake Day when she decided to make pancakes but lost enthusiasm and decided to make one big one. To this end, she poured all the liquid into the frying pan and made this big thick, well,Yorkshire pudding really. It wasn’t very nice. I think she did a bit of fostering as I clearly remember two young girls staying with her. They wanted to kiss me all the time, who knows what their backgroundwas. She certainly took in lodgers as I clearly remember random men being there and her cooking for them. This reads less well than it should do, my grandfather was present all the time. I used to go round there on a Saturday and we used to go to Milton market where she did her shopping and at the post office I used to get a little plastic cowboy or Indian. They were only cheap but they were a treat. She was certainly more fun than my maternal grandmother, in an Irish tradition I suppose. That side of the family always seemed like more of a family than the other side. Aftermy granddad had passed, she used to come over for Sunday lunch. So we had both widowed grandmothers there every Sunday. She had this annoying habit of waiting for lunch to be served then talking at the dinner table of who has what illness / had died. I think that’s an Irish thing? At some stage she made the decision to relocate to Ireland. I don’t know what the thinking behind it was but that freed up her house for my uncle and his family to move in. He had been unlucky in business and had returned to Portsmouth as a case of necessity. Her move didn’t last long and she was back living with us, much to the annoyance of my mother. They weren’t each other’s biggest fans, although I believe my grandmother tried to get along with her but my mother could be difficult at the best of times and impossible when she wanted to be. My mother took it upon herself to find her a place to live and so it was that soon enough, for everyone except my mother, she moved into a flat in Campbell Road, Southsea. It was an okay little place, big enough for her to manage and company in the other residents.

After a while, it became increasingly obvious that she wasn’t managing and a decision on her future had to be made. How this came about remains to this day a mystery to me, but she moved in with my uncle’s family, who had by now relocated to Cornwall.

I never saw her after that.

One day I came home fromwork and my then wife, Lesley, was fuming. She said some woman had called and that she wouldn’t leave a message but would call back to speak to me later that evening. When I answered the ringing phone, I discovered that ‘the woman’ was my aunt, ringing to inform me that my grandmother was very ill and to expect the worst within a few days. My aunt rang to tell me because when she asked my mother to do it she was told ‘oh, we don’t talk to them’. Believing that I had a right to know about my grandmother’s condition, she took it upon herself to ring me. In the interests of fairness, it is true to say that we had a falling out with my parents, which lasted many [for me] happy years and we only reconciled when I needed some information for a passport. Even then, the wounds were still so deep that Lesley had to phone and ask her as I would rather have not gone on the holiday, 7 weeks in the USA, than talk to her. I think that shocked me more, that my mother wouldn’t let me know about my grandmothers impending death. Why I would be surprised is strange as she had already spent years systematically destroying my reputation within the family. ‘You can’t always trust your mother’, Lou Reed.

[yuniesan]

Girl Meets Season 5 - Episode 18 - Girl Meets A Friend in Need

Synopsis: What can you expect when you’re finishing high school? For Riley her entire world will turn upside down and picking up the pieces will bring her and her friends closer together.

[Previous Episodes]

A/N: I apologize in advance

Episode 18 - Girl Meets A Friend in Need

Riley noticed that something was wrong the moment that Zay didn’t show up at their baking class, cookie day was coming up and he had told her that he wanted to send something to his grandmother. Cassie had started joining them when she had heard about the whole cookie thing, especially since Zay loved to taste everything she made. The two girls looked around wondering why their partner wasn’t there for class.

“Have you talked to him?” Riley asked as she turned to her friend.

“We talked last night, he said he would be here, and he’s never late because he always wants to pick the recipe,” Cassie said as she nervously watched the door.

After a minute Cassie pulled out her phone and checked the messages for what felt like the millionth time. Riley pulled out hers and sent a message to Lucas asking where Zay was. The class started at 9am, and Riley knew that on Saturday’s after a game Lucas slept in. She would have too but the baking class was priority, especially since they had to pay to be there, it was also the only activity that Riley and Zay had together without the rest of their friends.

Her phone beeped and Riley looked down to see the message, Grandma Gandy passed away.

“Oh no,” she said out loud before she pulled Cassie out the door. “We need to go to his house now.”

“What’s wrong?” Cassie said her face full of worry.

“His grandmother died, he’s told you about her right?”

“Yes, she always sent him a cookie, actually he was so excited because she was talking about coming to New York for his graduation,” Cassie said with a smile on her face and Riley’s heart broke just listening to her friend.

“She passed away,” Riley said trying not to cry.

Cassie pulled Riley the moment the words had left her mouth, they ran to the subway as the rain started to fall on them, and took the uptown train to their neighborhood. By the time they reached Zay’s house both of them were soaked, neither had cared to use their umbrellas opting to run in the rain. Riley was glad that her leg had healed because she wasn’t sure that she could have survived that run with the boot on her leg.

Lucas was the one who opened the door to the two rain soaked girls, he quickly pulled them in giving Riley a hug. Grandma Gandy had been as much a part of Lucas’s life as she had been a part of Zay’s. So she knew he was sad as much as Zay was, but she also knew that Zay was going to be broken up about it.

Cassie let go of Riley’s hand and stood in the living room, when Lucas had let Riley go she saw Zay sitting on the couch no crying, not moving, as if he were frozen there in that spot. Cassie launched herself towards her boyfriend while Riley just watched not knowing what to do. She hadn’t felt a loss like since Mrs. Svorski, and she feared losing anyone in her family just as much. It wasn’t until Cassie’s arms were around Zay that he made a noise, as he whimpered in his girlfriend’s arms. Lucas pulled Riley away leaving the two of them alone. Lucas made some food for them, while Riley just stood there silently holding herself together.

“What can we do for him?” she asked Lucas as he made sandwiches.

“We can be there for him, that’s all we can really do,” he said to her with a gentle squeeze on her shoulder.

Zay had sat there in the living room all night, his parents had broken the news to him just after he had gotten back from the game. They had cried, but Zay felt frozen in place, he didn’t know what to do especially so close to cookie day. He had felt numb the whole time, he couldn’t sleep, all he could do was stare out into the space in front of him and wonder why it had to happen. He didn’t cry, he didn’t know if he could. He could only hear his parents saying something in the background, but they sounded like the teacher and the adults in those Charlie Brown cartoons. Nothing registered in his mind.

The night gave way to the day, and Lucas showed up at seven in the morning after his mother had found him in the same place he had been since the night before. She said something to him but he couldn’t hear her, and that’s when she had called Lucas. His best friend came over, and sat with him without saying a word. Zay still couldn’t move, he didn’t know what to do with himself and so they sat there. It wasn’t until Cassie came over soaking wet and threw her arms around him that it had finally all come out.

The last conversation he had with his grandmother was about them going to Texas during spring break, and him introducing Cassie to her. His grandmother always asked about Cassie, and he would tell her about what they did during the day. It was normal and special, because Cassie was his first real serious relationship. He liked Vanessa and had gone out with her, but it wasn’t the same as it was with Cassie. She was his sunshine, she was everything he could ever want in someone. He loved how she smelled like vanilla after she baked a cake, or how she would talk about owning her own business, especially after the talk about their future careers. He liked the way she encouraged him to be a better person, but also came over to have dinner with his parents.

Tears streamed down his face so he buried himself in her shoulder and let the tears fall, because he would never be able to introduce her to his grandmother. His mother came into the room and hugged them both, holding them as she watched her son fall apart for the first time since she had given him the news. His mother rubbed circles around his back before kissing him on the head and walking away only to come back with some dry clothes for the both of them and a plate of food.

“Lucas took Riley home,” she said smiling at him. He could see the sadness in her eyes, but he couldn’t say anything without falling apart so he nodded. “Riley said she’ll bring over some food once she’s changed, but Lucas made these sandwiches for you two.”

“Thank you Mrs. Babineaux,” Cassie said before she walked away to change into Zay’s sweats and a shirt from his mother’s closet. Zay changed in his room, looking at the last photo he had taken with his grandmother. His heart felt raw in his chest.

“She loved you very much baby boy,” his mother said as she walked into the room. “She lived a long life, and she’s very proud of you.”

“I know,” he said his voice felt all wrong, but he didn’t know if he could say anything else.

“Isaiah, my beautiful child,” his mother pulled him close. “Death isn’t the end, she still lives in your heart, and with all of her children. You’re allowed to be sad but is it what she would have wanted?”

“No,” he said feeling lighter for a moment. “She would have kicked all of our asses and say that we should celebrate her life because that’s what she would have wanted.”

“So let’s celebrate, let’s talk about our happiest moments with her, and when we meet again we can tell her the stories of our lives.”

He nodded and let himself be pulled into his mother’s arms, “Your dad is already on his way to Texas, I dropped him off at the airport. We’ll join him tomorrow afternoon.”

“Okay,” he said as she let go of him.

“Pack a couple of things,” she said as she walked towards the door. “And Zay, be happy for having known your grandmother, because not a lot of people would have gotten the chance to know theirs. She was a strong woman, and she would have wanted you to be at your best.”

Once she had left, Cassie walked in and sat there with him, he was tired, and he could feel it dragging him down.

“Do you want me to leave?” Cassie asked as he started to use her as a pillow.

“No, can you stay for a while even if I’m asleep?”

“Sure,” she said giving him a quick kiss before she pulled him towards his pillow. She read to him, nothing in particular just what she could pull up on her phone, she let him sleep without waking him.

Lucas and Riley had come back but left once they had heard that he had fallen asleep, Riley left a batch of chocolate chip cookies with a note saying Happy Cookie Day, because your grandmother would have wanted you to keep celebrating. And he knew she was right, so he shared them with Cassie and told her stories about his grandmother.

The next day him and his mother were on a plane to Texas, eating another batch of cookies as well as a cake from both Cassie and Riley. He laughed because it was both comfort food for him but also their way of cheering him up. Zay had spoken at his grandmother’s funeral, but only about the happy times, and mostly about the cookies they shared. He had also inherited his grandmother’s cook books which made him smile, there was a note inside of the book, where the cookie recipe was,

My little Zay,

I hope you remember how special these cookies are, but how special you are to me. I love you Zay and I hope you do great things.

-love Grandma Gandy

 His mother smiled next to him, “She was going to give it to you for graduation.”

He smiled at his mother and looked at the cookbook, under the letter was a picture of him and his grandmother baking cookies when he was five. This was the image he was going to remember, the smell of cookies baking, and his grandmother helping him mix all of the ingredients with a smile on their face. He hoped that when he had kids this would be the same picture he had on his wall.

[justsomebucky]

The Friendly Wager (Part 7)

Summary: AU. Reader and Bucky Barnes are neighbors and best friends. After yet another bad date, reader comes home to find Bucky with his typical weekend target. They decide to make a wager about dating, but is there more on the line than reader cares to admit?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 3,855

Warnings: language, fluff, angst, confrontation, drinking, cheesy romance, kissing, implied sexytimes, somewhat nsfw but not really, a potentially wasted beautiful meal

A/N: This is my last submission for the lovely Kait’s ( @bionic-buckyb) 5k AU Challenge. I did it! My prompt was “Can you please come over so I don’t feel so alone?”

This was the sixth rewrite! LOL….The End! :)

Part 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7

“Something smells amazing in here!”

Bucky gave you a small smile, nodding at the kitchen. “I was making dinner. I figured since you haven’t eaten either, and I made more than enough, we could have dinner together.”

This wasn’t exactly an uncommon occurrence.

There were loads of times when Bucky would ask you to come over and help him choose a new menu item to propose at the restaurant.

Sometimes he’d just hold a spoon up to your lips and casually ask if the food was to your taste or not. Other times, he’d sit you down for a three-course meal and ask you how you felt about both the food and its presentation.

Normally, you’d be so freaking excited to see something like this at Bucky’s place.

It obviously meant free food for you this time, too, but you just couldn’t feel good about it.

This time, he was probably creating a menu for when he finally cooks for the mystery woman Nat told you about, the one he’d spent the whole night texting, or whatever.

Whatever.

“Have a seat,” he instructed, quietly shutting the door behind him and making his way to the kitchen. “I hope you’re hungry.”

Hungry? Not really.

“Sure,” you fibbed, sitting down at the candlelit table. Everything looked so nice, you almost didn’t want to use any of it. There was even a big fresh salad and some garlic bread. “So, why’d you have a rough day?”

Bucky walked over with a pan of the most delicious-looking lasagna you’d ever laid eyes on in your life. There was way more than one kind of cheese in it, and it was nearly bubbling over the pan.

Your traitorous stomach growled.

“I just…it was just a shitty day.” He pulled the oven mitts off his hands and pointed at the lasagna, pride apparent on his face. “This is one of my grandma’s best recipes, so I hope you like it.”

You now faced an ultimate internal struggle: eat the pity food and have a happy belly, or leave now with some self-respect and starve to death (you were pretty sure you didn’t have any food in your fridge).

Bucky really meant business with his mystery woman if he was digging out recipes like this.

You stared at him blankly as he sat down across from you, unfolding his fancy napkin to place on his lap.

Was he already making plans for a future with her?

He’d probably move out of Brooklyn, and get a house with her in the suburbs. Maybe you’d be able to visit him. You’d probably not be welcomed to the house, but maybe you could meet someplace for coffee. Definitely not around the holidays, though, because Bucky would probably have a family with her, and want to spend time with them instead.

No more gift exchanges on birthdays, either, even though the two of you had a long-standing tradition of going to a new show on Broadway to celebrate.

No more Saturday mornings watching ‘I Love Lucy,’ and no more late night couch cuddles under oversized blankets when it was cold outside.

No more impromptu trips to museums and playing hooky in the park.

No more Bucky.  

Oh well.

Your friendship had a good run. Nothing that great could ever be meant to last. Had you been paying attention, you would have seen the writing on the wall months ago.

He eyed you carefully from across the table. “Everything okay with you?”

You blinked a few times, forcing a smile to your face even though he’d just caught you staring. “Yep. Do you want to talk about your shitty day?”

Bucky appeared to mull it over. “Not yet.”

“All right.”

An ever-so-slightly awkward silence settled in the room, and you watched with mild interest as he opted to fill his salad bowl first.

Normally, the two of you didn’t need to fill the silence with any chatter. It was always comfortable, and conversations were never forced.

There was a first time for everything, you figured.

Besides, he didn’t need to hear what your brain wanted you to say. You weren’t gonna bring them up…not Natasha, not Rosie, not even the mystery girl.

You weren’t.

You weren’t, you weren’t, you weren’t.

…You so were.

Step one: ask about the perfect match.

“Hey, guess who I saw right before I got home?”

Shit. Well, now it was out there in the universe.

Bucky looked intrigued. “Who?”

“Natasha, can you believe it?” You reached for the glass of water in front of you and took a big gulp. “I sure couldn’t!”

As soon as her name came out of your mouth, Bucky shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He focused on getting his own piece of lasagna from the tray.

“Oh?”

“Yep. It was so early, and I got really confused, like maybe I had the day wrong or something, because your dates never end that early.”

“Yeah, what can I say? It happens.” He shrugged a shoulder then stood to put a piece of lasagna on your plate, too. “There’s some garlic bread if you want any.”

“Got it. So anyways, Natasha told me that your date only lasted thirty minutes?”

“Yep.” Bucky set the spatula down and moved quickly back in the kitchen, reaching for the fridge door. “Want a beer?”

“Beer? With lasagna? That’s not like you.” You quirked an eyebrow at him. “No thanks.”

“Well I’m having one,” he muttered, opening a bottle and chugging it on his way back to the table. He flopped back in his seat, setting the bottle on the table.

The way Bucky was still shifting in his seat told you there was more to the story, so you decided to dig a little deeper.

“You’ve had headaches last longer than that date, Buck. What happened?”

“This is really good,” he said, gesturing to the food with his fork. “You should try it.”

Ah, the classic avoidance method.

“I promise I won’t make fun of you if you just tell me.”

You jumped a little as his fork hit his plate with a loud clatter and his eyes flickered up to yours. He was irritated now, and while you couldn’t blame him, you needed answers.

Maybe you were a masochist or something, but you wanted to hear everything right from the source.

He gave you a questioning look. “Why does what happened matter? It’s over and done.”

Really?

“For months and months, you basically harassed me for her number, Bucky, you can’t act like you didn’t! She was your dream girl, the one you’d been lusting over, and suddenly you blow off your date like she’s nobody?” You leaned back in your seat, shaking your head a little. “I don’t get it.”

Bucky shrugged again, looking back down at his plate. “She just wasn’t who I thought she was. We didn’t click.”

Step two: ask about his wager date.

You told Wanda that your feelings for him wouldn’t change if he really did sleep with Rosie, and you definitely meant it, but you still wanted to know.

“What about Rosie?”

“Can we please just eat?” He picked his fork up again, digging into the lasagna and avoiding eye contact.

“Fine.” You picked up your fork, too, and grabbed a big bite of lasagna. The second you tasted the food, you wanted to keel over and die, that’s how amazing it was, and you knew it showed on your face.

You didn’t even care, and decided then and there that lasagna was better than friendship.

Italian food would never hurt you the way people could.

Bucky couldn’t resist looking back up at you for your reaction, so you stared right back at him.

“Well?”

You sighed, setting your fork down again. “It’s amazing as always, Bucky.”

“And you aren’t just saying that?”

“I would never lie about food,” you promised. “Especially Grandma’s recipe.”

“Good.” He gave a satisfied nod.

The peace and quiet of enjoying your dinner together lasted for an entire minute. It wasn’t as awkward this time, but you still felt some discomfort. In the end, your sheer nosiness won out.

“Who were you texting the whole time? Who’s the mystery girl? It’s not like you to keep things like that from me.” You feigned hurt feelings, making a face at him. “Was it Rosie?”

Bucky scoffed, his eyes focusing on the flickering candle to his right. “No.”

“Someone new? Maybe from work?”

“No.”

You sighed loudly. “Fine. I’ll find out eventually, you know. Steve and Sam can barely keep their mouths shut, and they both absolutely adore me. It wouldn’t be that difficult to-“

“I wasn’t texting anyone,” he said quickly, cutting off your thinly-veiled threat. “Well, not really. I never found the courage to press send on anything I typed. I was checking to see if I’d gotten any texts, too. Natasha didn’t like that very much, and she had every right to be pissed. I was rude.”

So there was someone after all.

Your stomach did that familiar knotting thing it does when you get upset, the thing that wasn’t helpful at all when eating delicious food.

“Did you tell Rosie about your mystery woman? Does she know about Rosie?”

“Rosie and I didn’t even make it through salads and breadsticks, Y/N,” he admitted, his blue eyes locking on yours.

Confusion filled your brain.

Did he really just say that?

He needed to repeat it, just so you know you weren’t hallucinating. 

“But, y-you mean…what? But, you said I won, you said…I thought you said…you didn’t sleep with her?”

“I didn’t sleep with her,” he confirmed. “I hailed a cab and paid for her to get home safely, and that was the end of it. That’s why I said you won so early…I forfeited.”

You couldn’t help but feel a little relieved that he didn’t take either one of your coworkers to bed, but that meant…it meant that there was someone he actually cared about. To you, that would be a thousand times worse.

That meant his heart already belonged to someone.

Step three: uncover the identity of the mystery woman who was stealing your best friend.

“Who is she, then?”

Bucky ran a hand over his face, his eyes showing the weariness from the rough day he’d mentioned. “Honestly, Y/N, I would have thought it was obvious by now. I guess I’m not as good at this as I thought.”

You stared at him, waiting for a better explanation than that.

“I really, really don’t want to fuck this up,” he continued, his voice softer. “I’m afraid I’m reading into things too much, and I’m about to ruin everything.”

“You, afraid?” You scoffed at the idea. “I’ve never witnessed it.”

“I’m completely terrified.”

You started chewing your lip nervously, feeling even more uncomfortable than before. “She must be special.”

“She is,” he agreed, a small smile forming on his mouth. “This person…she lights up every room she’s in, putting sunlight to shame. She’s beautiful and kind, with a big brain and an even bigger heart. And I think she loves me too, based on recent events and conversation, though I think she’s just as afraid as I am.”

His actual perfect match loved him back? No wonder he turned Natasha down.

Something along the lines of mild panic filled your entire body, and you felt like the walls were closing in on you.

You had to get out of there.

“Well thanks, Bucky, but I have to go, I’m so sorry. Thank you for the lovely meal, and –” You stood, pushing your chair back to move as quickly as possible to the front door.

“Y/N, wait!”

The sound of another chair scraping against the hardwood floor told you Bucky was following you. You grasped at the door knob, and even managed to get the door open a few inches before it shut in your face.

Bucky stood directly behind you, one arm over your head while he rested his hand on the door. “Why are you trying to escape?”

“I have to go, Bucky, let me out!” You pulled on the door again, but he maintained his weight against it.

By now, you knew your struggle was in vain. Your body deflated against the door as you gave up.

You had to tell him before this broke your heart any further.

Bucky gently spun you around toward him, and you watched his face fall when he realized there were tears pooling in your eyes. “Talk to me,” he pleaded.

Oh, he was about to get an earful.

“I can’t…I can’t listen to you drone on and on about your new woman over dinner. It’s totally my fault, I know I asked, but I take it back. I can’t watch your eyes light up over the thought of someone else, I just…I can’t freaking do it.”

The smell of his cologne wafted to your nose as he leaned over you, his lips near your ear. “Ask me who she is again, Y/N.”

Bucky pulled back, but the damage was done. Your heart was racing so fast, its energy could probably power Stark Tower for a week.

“No,” you refused, eyes wide. “I don’t wanna hear her name.”

“Just ask.”

“No!” This time, your temper flared. He should respect your change of mind if he really cared about you, and let you leave with what little dignity you had left.

Bucky planted both feet firmly in front of him, crossing his arms. “Fine. Let me do the talking, then. Let’s talk about how I don’t want to hear you go on about how perfect Natasha and I are for each other, ever again.”

“Fine!”

“Fine. Not done yet! I don’t want to hear Rosie’s name ever again. I don’t want to hear any more about your singles apps, or your bad dates with the Alex McDouchenozzles of the world, and I definitely never want to hear the name Peter Quill from your mouth ever again!”

This conversation wasn’t quite taking the turn you were expecting. The sudden shift of attention to you and your suitors raised a bunch of new warning flags in your brain.

You knew Bucky better than anyone, and everything about him right now was screaming something you had previously thought to be impossible.

Anything you said now could either make or break your changing relationship.

Before you could open your mouth to ask again, he motioned for you to go back to the table. “Dinner now, talk later.”

What?

WHAT!?

“No,” you said, straightening to your full height, your hands on your hips. “Talk now, dinner later! You have to explain yourself!”

He stood there, silently waiting for you to go on, the slightest hint of amusement in his eyes. Anyone who didn’t know Bucky as well as you would never have caught that gleam.

Time to test your new theory, for your sanity and for his.

Start with a joke.

“What about Starlord? Do you wanna hear about him?” You couldn’t stop the small smile from appearing on your face.

Bucky lifted his chin indignantly, and you were pretty sure he flexed his arms a little. “Especially not Starlord.”

Get him to talk.

“What do you want to hear about then?” you breathed out, eyes searching his. You knew what you wanted him to say, but would he go for it? Or were you completely misreading him right now in a bout of wishful thinking?

You did love to daydream, after all.

Oh, and that pain in your stomach? That stupid, sharp ‘am I gonna die soon’ feeling that had been churning all night?

Yeah, it shifted to more of a ‘this moment is potentially filled with everything you hoped for and you still might die soon’ chest pain. The anticipation was killing you, and you watched him carefully, trying to gauge whether you were right or not.

The weariness that had been in his eyes moments ago was completely gone, replaced by a new look: pure, unmistakable adoration.

“I want to hear about your day,” Bucky answered, his arms dropping to his sides. “I want to hear about your lab sessions, and what you had for lunch. I want to hear about your favorite things that happened to you this week. I want to hear you laugh when Lucy does something crazy, and groan when Ricky catches her in the act. I want to hear your scratchy voice in the morning, and your loud yawns at night.”

He was so utterly charming.

Reciprocate.

After all, two could play at this game.

“I want to hear about your promotion,” you told him, your smile widening.

The look in his eyes gave you the courage to keep talking.

“I want to hear the pride in your voice when you talk about your creations. I want to hear about how much you hate the laundry machines downstairs, and how much you love those blueberry scones from the bakery two blocks over. I want to hear the laughter in your voice when you’re agitating me on purpose.”

You stepped right up in front of him, your eyes never leaving his. “I want to be the last person you talk to before you go to sleep.”

“I want that, too,” Bucky murmured, reaching out for your hands and holding onto them gently. “It took me having this stupid wager to realize it, but…”  

His forehead rested on yours, and you felt like your breathing might never return to normal.

“The second I saw you in your dress, getting ready for a date with that douchebag…” Bucky leaned away to look at you, shaking his head. “I couldn’t stand it.”

“He was…different.”

“He wasn’t right for you.”

“You’re probably right.”

“I’m always right,” he agreed, dropping your hands unceremoniously. “Anyways, glad we settled that. Let’s finish eating, shall we?”

You blinked incredulously. “That’s…settled? We have settled nothing, sir.”

He laughed, his bright smile a welcome sight. “No, I guess you’re right this time.”

“Of course I’m right! I’ve been so stressed about ever-“

Bucky cut you off by cupping your chin and gently pressing his lips to yours for the first time.

You immediately took action, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your body even closer. There was no way you were going to let him get away with a chaste little kiss like that.

You lips parted slightly, and he took advantage, his tongue finding yours as he deepened the kiss. The feeling shot all the way down to your toes, curling them instantly. You were vaguely aware of his other hand moving down your figure, his fingers pressing into your hip almost possessively.

It was almost too much, but you felt like if you pulled away now, he’d disappear and this would all be a really fucking awesome dream or something.

It was better than a dream.

Bucky ended up breaking the kiss after a moment, resting his forehead on yours again. “We could have been kissing like that this whole time,” he pointed out, a small smile playing on his lips.

You pulled back to give him a look. “Please. With your line of trampezoids here all hours of the night, every week night and weekend? I don’t think so.”

“I wouldn’t have been seeing them if we would have just realized the obvious.”

“Hindsight,” you said, clucking your tongue at him. “It’s a bitch, isn’t it?”

“We can always make up for lost time,” Bucky suggested, his eyes gleaming wickedly.

“What about the lasagna? You went through all this trouble, and neither of us really ate that much…”

“It’ll still be there when we’re done.” He shrugged, glancing between his bedroom door and you. “I’ve got a microwave.”

“Oh no, no no no. No way, Bucky. I don’t know the last time you changed your sheets,” you protested, making a face at him.

“What? I clean my sheets!” he retorted, making a face at you.

The mere thought completely disgusted you. “I remember bombshell Becky, and all the others before her. We go to my apartment if this is happening.”

“Well, it’s not not happening, so, let’s get a move on.” Bucky grabbed your shoulders and tried to shove you out the door.

“This also means you have to buy a new bed,” you added jokingly, hauling ass across the hall and into your own apartment with Bucky in tow.  

It was uncanny, how quick the two of you ended up in your room, with him crawling over you as you landed on your mattress.

“Natasha insinuated that it’s wrong to put out on the first date,” you informed him cheekily.

“This doesn’t feel like our first date, though,” he reasoned, pulling your arms over your head and holding them in place with a predatory look in his eyes. “It feels like we’ve been seeing each other for a while now.”

The feel of his weight on you, the smell of him, even the touch of his calloused fingers was driving you insane. You couldn’t believe how many nights you’d spent next to him without experiencing this.

And god, that look in his eyes gave you shivers.

You stared up at him, eyes tracing his face so that you’d never forget this moment. “Yeah, I would agree with that.”

“Let’s make another wager,” he suggested, nuzzling your neck before planting hot, open-mouth kisses there.

“What kind?” you breathed out, trying to resist the urge to order him to take off his pants and get to it already. You knew this wasn’t something you wanted to rush.

No, you were going to savor every second of his hands, his hard muscles, and that extraordinary mouth of his having their way with you.

“I wager that I can make you forget all about that lasagna next door.”

You pretended to think about it. “I don’t know, that lasagna was really good. I didn’t even get to try the garlic bread, I bet it’s delicious.”

Bucky lifted his head to grin wickedly at you. “I was just about to say the same thing about you.”

You made a face. “So you’re saying I’m on the menu, too? That’s such a corny chef joke!”

“I think you mean corny head chef joke. I’m allowed to make those now. You’re tonight’s special,” he quipped. “And tomorrow, and the next day, and…”

“I love you,” you told him, just because you could. You freed one arm from his grasp to reach a hand out and stroke his stubble-covered jawline. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.” He grinned at you. “Say it again.”

You rolled your eyes and laughed. “I love you.”

Bucky’s blue eyes sparkled. “I could never get tired of hearing you say that.”

“Good, because I probably won’t ever get tired of saying it.”

He cleared his throat. “So, um, now that we’ve established an ‘us’, you’re gonna delete your dating apps, right?”

Well, duh.

Who the hell needed dating apps when Bucky Barnes was in love with you?

“Stop talking,” you muttered, leaning up to kiss him again. “Dinner’s getting cold.”

---

The end :)

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[maddielivesinbooks]

Well folks I’m back, and I have something to say: I am a flop, and this reading blog is proof of that. For Spring Break, I challenged myself to read six books in week. It did not go well. So, without any further ado, here is my Week In Reading #2.

Monday, April 1

Happy April Fool’s! Today I read a whole book! Just kidding! April Fool’s. I forgot to take note of anything I read today. Mainly because I barely read anything. Let’s recap the day.

11:00 AM: I sleep in because I have no plans for the day. When I get out of bed, I begin to look for food and decided that for breakfast I need to make cheesy pasta dish. Maybe I’ll turn on the audiobook I have, Bowlaway by Elizabeth McCracken. Ha! Why would I do that? It’s not like it’s one of my most anticipated books of the year! I listen to podcasts, despite the fact that this book is due in four days and there are nine people waiting for it.

12:00 PM: My food wasn’t that good and I kind of feel sick. Naturally, I nap and sort of listen to Bowlaway. What’s it about, you ask? To that I say, um I don’t know, bowling? I like it, and the writing is super nice and pretty but the plot is kind of lost on me.

3:00 PM: After hours of doing nothing, I finally pick up a book, The Dream Thieves by Maggie Stiefvater. You know one, the book I have been working on for two weeks, even though I’ve already read it twice. That good news is, it’s very good and I think I’ll finish it. The bad news is, I don’t think that’ll happen now because my cat has appeared on my lap and is munching on the pages and getting hair all over it.

5:00 PM: I did it! I finished the book. I loved it. Just like I did when I read it April of 2017, and February of 2018. Now I should probably read something new, like one of the seven library books I brought home with me for spring break.

6:00 PM: I listen to Bowlaway while on the treadmill. I still don’t get what’s happening.

Bedtime PM: What the heck did I do all night? I don’t know. Eat, probably. Listen to podcasts, probably.  Bother my cat, probably. Not listen to Bowlaway, probably.

  Tuesday April 2

10:AM: Good morning fans and haters! Today I am going to be productive. I am going to read, I am going to exercise, I am going to cook, I am going read. I start the day scrambling eggs, and you guessed it, listening to podcasts. Bowlaway? I don’t know her.

I also go to my grandma’s to do some cleaning. While there, I listen to my audiobook for about five minutes, before deciding it would be better to listen to a podcast. Whose surprised? Not me.

1:00 PM: Once home, I start another book, We Set The Dark On Fire by. I’ve been anticipating this book for a while, so I’m actually excited to read it. I’m hooked immediately. The story is action packed, and the world is compelling. I pretty much figure out who the love interest is right when they first appear, and I’m super into this f/f romance.

2:00 PM: I turn on Bowlaway and fall asleep.

4:00 PM: I read more of We Set the Dark, and actually get through a big chunk of it. It’s not my favorite thing, but it’s quick and easy.

5:00 PM: Its dinner time, and I volunteer to cook. My family is big into healthy eating, so I make a Shepherd’s Pie with ground turkey and mashed cauliflower. I don’t know why I’m including this, maybe just to brag, because I can assure you that all I did while cooking was listen to podcasts.

Bedtime PM: Once again, I do not know what I did all night. I read a lot of my book, and listened to Bowlaway. I really need to hurry up with this audiobook because its due on Friday and I am only four hours in. Despite not knowing what’s happening, I actually dig it. I mean, there’s a character named Louetta Mood! Incredible.

Wednesday April 3

8:AM-9:PM: I wake up, feeling like death warmed over. Apparently, my body is weak and lets in whatever germs it wants. Unfortunately, I have dedicated myself to spending the day with my grandmother. We shop and get lunch, and after I almost lay down and take nap on the floor of Kohl’s, we go to the walk-in.

We head home late in the afternoon, and I’m armed with tissues, nasal spray and a venti green tea. Even though I just want to sleep, I try to read my book, and listen to Bowlaway. Only *spoiler alert* when you are feeling feverish, a book about bowling and the Great Molasses Flood isn’t actually ideal. I watch Bob’s Burgers instead.

Thursday April 4

10:00 AM: After a good night’s sleep, several doses of nasal spray and enough Dayquil to make me forget what happened on last night’s Survivor, I am feeling a little better. In fact, I finish We Set The Dark On Fire in the morning. And I’m super conflicted. It follows our main character, Dani, after she graduates a school that trains women to be wives and marries a power-hungry military man. She becomes a spy for a resistance group, and the story continues from there. I liked a lot of it, mainly the fast pace, the parallels to our modern border crisis, and especially the incredible hate-to-love lesbian romance. That being said, I didn’t find this super memorable, and thought the characters were one dimensional. Its a solid three star read.

1:00 PM: I am now confronted with the fact that Bowlaway is due tomorrow and I am just over halfway through it. I try to buckle down. I turn it on 2x speed and listen to it while I do chores, eat lunch and hang out with my cat. The thing is, it’s not keeping my interest. The two characters I like best, Louetta Mood and Joe Ware are being featured less and less. I’m having trouble following the plot lines and family connections. Still, I like it enough, and I’ve gotten this far.

3:00 PM: I give up on the audiobook. I know, I’m a loser, but I vow to get back to it, and all of my two fans must hold me accountable. I reach for Summer of Salt by Katrina Leno instead, and though I am only one chapter in, I adore it. It follows twins Georgina and Mary, who come from a line of magical women. They’re family runs an inn on the island of By-the-Sea, also home to Annabel, a rare bird.

6:00 PM: Summer of Salt might be my favorite read of the year.

7:00 PM: Summer of Salt has a cute lesbian romance and an adorable, socially awkward boy who loves birds.

9:00 PM: Summer of Salt discusses rape culture in a smart and beautiful way. Please read Summer of Salt, even though I am not even finished with it yet.

Friday April 5

10:00 AM-3:00 PM: Here’s the thing: I don’t really know what I do all morning and afternoon. I read, but I don’t keep track. I mourn the loss of Bowlaway, which has been returned. My Brother, My Brother, and Me plays all day long.

3:00 PM: My evening plans are thrilling. My cousins and I are ordering Cracker Barrel take-out (we can’t go in because one of us has beef with our local old country store). We’re going to eat and play games. I am genuinely excited.

We get the largest take-out bag I have ever seen, and feast on biscuits and hashbrown casserole and Coca-Cola cake. I don’t read, so this is all irrelevant. Just wanted to remind everyone that Cracker Barrel really hits the spot sometimes (sponsor me).

10:00 PM: This is around the time I get home, and I don’t read before bed. Just sleep. Bye.

Saturday April 6

9:00 AM: Today, I have a lot of plans that don’t include reading. I have to get some groceries to take back to school with me, meet up with some friends to get our nails done, and then we’re getting lunch. So, no reading.

4:00 PM: It’s almost time to read! First I decided to take some pictures for Instagram and for this blog. I get out my whole Raven Boys collection and my current read and throw them on the nice, fluffy rug in my parents house. The pictures are looking okay, but they’re nothing special. Guess who shows up to save the photoshoot? That’s right, its Tickles the cat!

She loves to read! These pictures are proof that my cat read more than me this week. Also, her favorite Raven Cycle character is Ronan. She wishes she was as tough as him.

5:30 PM: I’m reading now! Y’all, Summer of Salt is wonderful. I’m putting off finishing it because I am not ready to leave these characters and their island and their bird. Also, I am in love with Harrison. Deeply.

6:30 PM: Okay I stopped reading but for good reason. This book inspired to just pick up my laptop and start a play about a boy whose baked goods are magical. Yay!

7:30 PM: My laptop freezes. I’m not sure my work is saved. Its annoying, but I still have my ideas saved away in my head. Also, I need to pack to go back to school tomorrow.

9:00 PM: Packing is quicker than expected, but the bad news is, I am a trash person who decided to turn on American freakin Idol instead of reading. Sorry, I have a weakness for cute, singing boys (looking at you, Walker. Vote for him and Jeremiah!).

10:30 PM: Its bedtime. My book is not finished, but I sure am. Boy is it draining to get your nails done and eat enchiladas and cry at boys on American Idol.

Sunday April 7

I don’t read a single thing today because I was too busy at church. I love the Lord. Christ has died. Christ has risen. Christ will come again, and so will my interest in reading.

I also head back to school and do not read because it makes me carsick. Tragic.

The end

I am a flop. Sure, I finished two books, but I was already like ¾ of the way through one of them. Also, I let Bowlaway go without even putting up a fight. But let’s focus on the positives.

I recovered from my 55th cold of 2019

I ate enchiladas

I ate everything from Cracker Barrel

My cat is cute

Thanks for reading! Add me on Goodreads, follow me on Instagram and Twitter!

P.S I finished Summer of Salt on Monday and loved it. Also this is incredibly late because COLLEGE GETS BUSY SOMETIMES.

Breaking: Local Idiot Fails Her Own Challenge|Reading Blog #2 Well folks I’m back, and I have something to say: I am a flop, and this reading blog is proof of that.

[greeneyesandsunshine28]

200 things about me cuz why not

200: My crush’s name is: kyle
199: I was born in: 1998
198: I am really: scared about my future
197: My cellphone company is: verizon
196: My eye color is: blue
195: My shoe size is: 7
194: My ring size is: i have no idea
193: My height is: 5'4 ½"
192: I am allergic to: nothing
191: My 1st car was: ford edge
190: My 1st job was: marketing assistant
189: Last book you read: Showdown-Thurgood Marshall
188: My bed is: extremely comfortable 
187: My pet: none
186: My best friend: is not really my best friend anymore 
185: My favorite shampoo is: argan oil
184: Xbox or ps3: xbox
183: Piggy banks are: cute for kids
182: In my pockets: nothing
181: On my calendar: upcoming dance events, grad parties and school events
180: Marriage is: Beaudoin 
179: Spongebob can: be annoying sometimes
178: My mom: is amazing
177: The last three songs I bought were? Rather be, come away with me, whiskey and you
176: Last YouTube video watched: peyton and lucas OTH scene s5ep6
175: How many cousins do you have? 18
174: Do you have any siblings? Yes one brother
173: Are your parents divorced? No but my dad died 3 years ago
172: Are you taller than your mom? No
171: Do you play an instrument? No
170: What did you do yesterday? Stretched for dance, read a book, talked with my grandma [ I Believe In ]
169: Love at first sight: no
168: Luck: yes
167: Fate: no
166: Yourself: sometimes
165: Aliens: no
164: Heaven: yes
163: Hell: yes
162: God: sometimes
161: Horoscopes: no
160: Soul mates: yes
159: Ghosts: no
158: Gay Marriage: yes
157: War: yes
156: Orbs: no
155: Magic: no [ This or That ]
154: Hugs or Kisses: hugs
153: Drunk or High: drunk
152: Phone or Online: phone
151: Red heads or Black haired: red heads
150: Blondes or Brunettes: blondes
149: Hot or cold: hot
148: Summer or winter: summer
147: Autumn or Spring: spring
146: Chocolate or vanilla: vanilla
145: Night or Day: day
144: Oranges or Apples: apples
143: Curly or Straight hair: curly
142: McDonalds or Burger King: neither
141: White Chocolate or Milk Chocolate: white chocolate
140: Mac or PC: Mac
139: Flip flops or high heals: flip flops
138: Ugly and rich OR sweet and poor: sweet and poor
137: Coke or Pepsi: neither
136: Hillary or Obama: Obama
135: Burried or cremated: buried
134: Singing or Dancing: DANCE FOREVER❤️
133: Coach or Chanel: don’t care
132: Kat McPhee or Taylor Hicks: Taylor Hicks
131: Small town or Big city: small town
130: Wal-Mart or Target: Target
129: Ben Stiller or Adam Sandler: Ben Stiller
128: Manicure or Pedicure: pedicure
127: East Coast or West Coast: east coast
126: Your Birthday or Christmas: Christmas
125: Chocolate or Flowers: flowers
124: Disney or Six Flags: Disney
123: Yankees or Red Sox: don’t care [ Here’s What I Think About ]
122: War: it’s a terrible thing, but it’s real and it’s happening. The only thing we can do is love one another. 
121: George Bush: neutral
120: Gay Marriage: I accept it completely. Why should we stop people from loving who they love?
119: The presidential election: bullshit
118: Abortion: no comment
117: MySpace: I remember it being a big thing when I was in grade school
116: Reality TV: most of it is fake, but I can’t deny that I don’t watch some shows. 
115: Parents: mine at least, are caring and have done everything for me
114: Back stabbers: need to reevaluate themselves
113: Ebay: good way to make money
112: Facebook: I actually like, even tho teens nowadays say it’s “only for adults"
111: Work: dumb
110: My Neighbors: extremely kind and giving
109: Gas Prices: too high
108: Designer Clothes: too expensive
107: College: too expensive
106: Sports: don’t care for them
105: My family: love them
104: The future: scary [ Last time I ]
103: Hugged someone: yesterday 
102: Last time you ate: 3 hours ago
101: Saw someone I haven’t seen in awhile: 2 days ago
100: Cried in front of someone: 2 months ago
99: Went to a movie theater: a month ago
98: Took a vacation: last weekend
97: Swam in a pool: 2 days ago
96: Changed a diaper: 8 years ago
95: Got my nails done: 2 years ago
94: Went to a wedding: 4 months ago
93: Broke a bone: never
92: Got a peircing: 5 years ago
91: Broke the law: 2 months ago
90: Texted: half an hour ago [ MISC ]
89: Who makes you laugh the most: my friends
88: Something I will really miss when I leave home is: my bedroom and my dance studio
87: The last movie I saw: The Great Gatsby
86: The thing that I’m looking forward to the most: loving someone and starting a family
85: The thing im not looking forward to: paying taxes, bills, etc.
84: People call me: nicole
83: The most difficult thing to do is: grow up and realize you’re an adult
82: I have gotten a speeding ticket: never
81: My zodiac sign is: leo
80: The first person i talked to today was: my grandma
79: First time you had a crush: 3rd grade
78: The one person who i can’t hide things from: my mom
77: Last time someone said something you were thinking: I don’t recall anything
76: Right now I am talking to: no one
75: What are you going to do when you grow up: hopefully be a successful dancer
74: I have/will get a job: in dance or writing 
73: Tomorrow: I have a dance intensive
72: Today: I worked, shopped, went out to lunch and now I’m watching One Tree Hill
71: Next Summer: I will most likely go to Ocean City, NJ again
70: Next Weekend: I will go to graduation parties and a dance intensive
69: I have these pets: none
68: The worst sound in the world: people crying in pain
67: The person that makes me cry the most is: …
66: People that make you happy: my mom, my brother, my friend anna
65: Last time I cried: last week
64: My friends are: awesome people
63: My computer is: very nice
62: My School: ehh
61: My Car: has a few dents but still runs well
60: I lose all respect for people who: are rude or don’t make up for their actions
59: The movie I cried at was: The Last Song
58: Your hair color is: dark blonde
57: TV shows you watch: One Tree Hill, Big Brother, World of Dance, AGT, SYTYCD, Dance Moms, Andi Mack, Riverdale, Dance Moms, the list goes on…
56: Favorite web site: facebook
55: Your dream vacation: Aruba or Hawaii
54: The worst pain I was ever in was: the aftermath of my dad’s death
53: How do you like your steak cooked: I’m a vegetarian 
52: My room is: turquoise filled with pictures of my friends and celebrities 
51: My favorite celebrity is: Sophia Bush or Dianna Agron
50: Where would you like to be: in Hawaii
49: Do you want children: yes
48: Ever been in love: no
47: Who’s your best friend: emily
46: More guy friends or girl friends: girl
45: One thing that makes you feel great is: feeling stress-free
44: One person that you wish you could see right now: my dad
43: Do you have a 5 year plan: no
42: Have you made a list of things to do before you die: no
41: Have you pre-named your children: yes
40: Last person I got mad at: my brother
39: I would like to move to: Vermont
38: I wish I was a professional: dancer [ My Favorites ]
37: Candy: Necco's
36: Vehicle: Lexus
35: President: Lincoln
34: State visited: Florida
33: Cellphone provider: Verizon
32: Athlete: Simone Biles
31: Actor: Chris Colfer
30: Actress: Jennette McCurdy
29: Singer: Ariana Grande
28: Band: don’t have one
27: Clothing store: Gina’s Boutique 
26: Grocery store: Kroger 
25: TV show: One Tree Hill
24: Movie: The Blind Side
23: Website: imdb …before they got rid of the message boards. So now YouTube
22: Animal: don’t have one
21: Theme park: don’t have one
20: Holiday: Christmas
19: Sport to watch: I don’t care for sports
18: Sport to play: volleyball 
17: Magazine: Elle
16: Book: The Help
15: Day of the week: Saturday 
14: Beach: Sarasota, FL
13: Concert attended: Hannah Montana/Miley Cyrus
12: Thing to cook: pasta with marinara
11: Food: pasta with marinara
10: Restaurant: Karl’s Cabin
9: Radio station: 105.1 the Bounce
8: Yankee candle scent: Kitchen Spice
7: Perfume: Bath & Body Works Brown Sugar and Spice (autumn collection)
6: Flower: rose
5: Color: blue
4: Talk show host: Jimmy Fallon
3: Comedian: Will Ferrell
2: Dog breed: shitzu
1: Did you answer all these truthfully? Mostly…

[maychorian]

Alphabet Game

tagged by @butteredonions and @rangergirl3 so I guess I should do it, haha.

A - age: 33. The age both Jesus and Alexander the Great died. But I’m doing fine!

b - either centipedes or failure: I’m okay with centipedes. I’m the girl who can kill spiders with a flip-flop while all the other girls are yelling and running. One time a spider fell on the open Bible in my lap in church (from the high, high ceiling above, no idea how it got there), and I just brushed off on the floor. If it had landed on one of the girls on either side of me there would have been screaming in the middle of the sermon.

c - current time: 8:13 pm.

d - drink I last had: Orange Zevia

e - every day starts with: Open my eyes, check my email for comments on AO3. Yes, I am pathetic.

f - favorite song: uhhhhh. It changes often. Don’t really have one right now. Most recent favorite song that I listened to over and over and over was Glitter and Gold by Barns Courtney.

g - ghosts. Are they real?: I believe in the spirit and the soul. Don’t necessarily believe that they hang around on Earth.

h - hometown: Small town in Amish country.

i - in love with: Lance “Sharpshooter” Blue Lion. Yes, that’s his full name.

j - jealous of: Nothing, really. My life is good. Maybe lottery winners. I would just stay home and write all day.

k - killed someone: Do spiders count? Not a person, but I’ve definitely caused death in the animal kingdom.

l - last time I cried: From something that wasn’t a TV show, movie, or fic? Someone sent me a very sincere, heartfelt message about how the Boom Crash series encouraged them to fight their depression and get the therapy they needed. That is just...beyond amazing. I’m so blessed to be able to have that effect on people.

m - middle name: Beth. Same middle name as my mom and maternal grandma. Right now it doesn’t look like kids are in the cards for me, though, so the tradition is probably gonna stop here.

n - number of siblings: Seven, all younger! I love ‘em to death.

o - one wish: For people to listen to each other and escape the daily propaganda.

p - person you last called/texted: My younger brother, asking him to pick up sugar-free chocolate bars for me at Trader Joe’s. There’s no Trader Joe’s in my city, but there is one where he lives, so I asked him to stop for me next time he came home to visit. He’s home now. :)

q - questions you’re always asked: It’s surprising how often people ask me how much weight I’ve lost.

r - reasons to smile: NEW VOLTRON CONTENT COMING SOON. NEW SEASON IN SEPTEMBER. BURGER KING IS GONNA HAVE A CROSS-PROMOTION SO I’LL PROBABLY BE ABLE TO GET SOME TOYS.

s - song last sang: I usually come in the door singing whatever was on the radio on my drive home. I forget what it was this time.

t - time I woke up: It’s Saturday, so nine-ish.

u - underwear color: Gray today.

v - vacation destination: Can’t think of one. I like to stay at home and play around. I want to go back to Washington DC though and visit all the Smithsonians, since the one time I went I only time for the Air and Space Musuem. (Which was amazing, btw, highly recommend. I spent a lot of time thinking about Shiro though.)

w - worst habit: I’m thirty-three and I still bite my fingernails.

x - x-rays you’ve had: When I was a teenager I started having a sharp pain in my ribcage that we thought might be a gallbladder problem, since several relatives had theirs out. I did the thing where I drank a solution to let them trace things in my body and they took an x-ray. It was a bruised rib from my brother throwing an apple at me.

y - your favorite food: I love love LOVE stuffing jalapenos with cream cheese, cheddar and a little hot sauce, then putting a par-cooked piece of bacon on top and baking them in the oven. Low carb jalapeno poppers without breading or deep frying. I have some jalapenos in the fridge right now. I make it at least once a week.

z - zodiac sign: Cancer.

Not tagging anyone, but feel free if you want to!

[fluffle-workshop]

Venting Ahead, Read if You Want. Just Venting Out Some Frustrations.

Alright so basically I have my hands- well, arms full this week. I decided to take on commissions trying to start earning some money so my parents don’t have to buy my everything, because right now they have to pay a lot towards my new bedroom items already and my Dad wants to cosplay, as well we are going to some expensive conventions (because my dad wanted too) and other expenses. Thing is I have to juggle creating new designs for welovefine, creating my own designs, and trying to make my comic as well as commissions.

 Yes, I am making some profit from WeLoveFine, but due to not being as well known I don’t really get all that much, I have to wait every /month/ to get paid and I only get part of the money (fair enough). Which is why I want to sell my own original designs, only it’s taking much too long to around to that. Maybe I’m, being impatient, but then again my Dad wants the business to start this year, my Dad wants me to have a booth at a con this year, my Dad wants me to have a comic ready by summer this year, and a lot of other things.

Let’s just say, high expectations from my Dad while I’m STILL trying to figure everything out. I dropped out so I can start my business and not have to waste my time with the bull shit they teach that I’ll never use anyway, but it’s not helping that my parents aren’t really being aware of how long it takes to actually do good art and the time everything it takes to reach different goals.

As we as wanting to start my career, I want to become healthy and fit, for myself and for cosplay, which takes an hour or more out of my day already with my workouts. Plus I’m trying to eat better foods for myself, but having to cook takes time away from what I need to do- I sometimes DON’T EAT (Which I don’t recommend doing) because I need to keep working.

Already this week I have to prepare my room for the new furniture coming in, I have to sort through everything I have for garage sale, I have finish commissions I have, I need to research the best and cheapest products for my own store, I need to look into legal things like copyright, I need to make more designs, I need to finish designs, I need to work out at least five days a week, I need to re-organize my office space because it’s bugging me, I need to start working on the drafts for my comic, I need to learn how to do better landscaping, I need to update the website, I need to make a commission chat- and a hell of a lot more. Which my mom and my dad finally decided to just hand me random shit to take care of- Call my doctor to make an appointment, ask the pharmacy about my medicine (which it takes fucking forever for them to pick up), and now I need to do my paper work for my dental work tomorrow. (Which you know what my dad is doing? PLAYING GAMES) As well he makes me look up conventions and cosplay. 

I don’t want to work on the weekends... I want to make me time and time with my friends and time with my boyfriend, but at this rate I might have to work Sunday or Saturday as well. At least my boyfriend also works Sunday so it’s not a big deal. It’s just I didn’t want to over work myself, that’s what my Grandpa did, he worked himself literally to death. I watch him die and my Dad and grandma can tell you that he died from never resting enough. I don’t want to work every damn day and waste my life away working!! I also want to have fun and do hobbies, it’s bad enough school took up most of my time and then I didn’t have enough friends to hang out with during summer vacations... but I might be more busy then I need to be right now.

Honestly I might keep commissions closed, I always wanted to take commissions, but I have no time for it. I’m stressed right now like when I was in school.

Couldn’t my parents wait until I was 20 to dump this shit on me? I’m trying to figure out how to short all of this shit and what angle I want to do my business. Hell I’m trying to start the damn thing!!

I think I’m done... I’m sorry for the cursing, but I start doing that when I’m pissed or stressed. If you made it this far then you know what’s going on with me. *Shrugs*

I’m done venting. I hope y’all have a good day. <3

[enigmaticpathetic-blog]

Opah Chor.

So here’s me talking about something that I usually don’t want to talk about. Mainly because it sucked. Emphasis on the -ed. But the thing is it still does. It still sucks. This is something that I would probably never get over in my whole life. It’s about my grandma. Or more precisely it’s about cancer happening to my grandma. Seeing as it is part of my being to act like everything is fine despite it usually not, I don’t really tell people about this. First, it’s because it usually ends up with me choking up, wanting to bawl cause the memories still feels like it was yesterday. Well here goes. My grandma was diagnosed with lymphoma in 2012. She died at the end of that same year. You see, lymphoma acts fast. It’s a type of cancer which spreads in the lymph nodes. I don’t know much and I don’t really wanna google it so why dont you do that for yourself. At first I didn’t really think that she was gonna die. You see, my grandma was a very cheerful, loud, funny,full of energy kind of woman. She was still driving me around with shades on before she got admitted. It started with some pain somewhere in her stomach. She got it checked, they said it was just some growth. I think it was around 3 cm at the time. I remember taking a ruler just to see how long it was. But then she wasn’t getting any better. And when the doctors checked again, turns out it was cancer. And I remember hearing that it had grown, from 3 cm to 10 cm. In just a few weeks. And then as I recall, it started getting worse. Family issues arise. Mainly in the form of ungrateful children. Uncles, aunts hurting my grandma. She was a sick woman, she was already hurting as it is. I remember feeling like punching their faces in when I meet them during hospital visits. Guess the itch in my fiststill hasnt subsided throughout the years. They're still jerks. My grandma started getting depressed, she didn’t wanted to eat, to move. She just stayed in bed, looked at the ceiling or the plain walls when one of us were cleaning her. After a while in hospital, we had to take her home. So we took her home. As in our home. I had already finished my PMR, so I could help around, be useful and stuff. It was good that I didn't had to go to school anymore. Less telling, less pretending. I remember not telling my friends. Maybe I did tell them, but I omitted the details. Nobody really knew just how sick was the grandma that Assilla took care of during the holidays. There was no use telling at the time. I had a lot on my mind those days. I watched movies of people going through cancer. But strangely enough, I didn’t remember much of it. Now, when I watch it, it ends up being a memoir of my grandma. Every cancer movie reminded me of her. Every cancer movie, after the death of my grandma, made me cry. I hate it. But yet am writing this after watching yet another cancer movie and now I can’t stop thinking of my grandma again. Those days were hard. I didn't mind the whole cleaning her, changing her diapers, counting the medicines. What hurt was forcing hero eat, which would end up with me leaving her with her food still untouched, to go to the next room and cry as quietly as I can. Slowly, during those days of repeating the same things, waking up, checking on her, bathing her, feeding her, arguing over food. I start to realise something. That my grandma was indeed dying. I remember coming into the room, seeing her sit on the edge of the bed, ready for me to help her get on my study chair which had wheels on, so I could wheel her in the bathroom for her daily baths. She would always just stare into the distance, the life in her eyes dissipating. She had already lost a lot weight, her hair falling all over the place, all over her pillows. She didn’t look like my grandma anymore, the one who would wake me up in the morning, just so we could get a cup of Teh Tarik at the nearest mama stall on a Saturday morning.  I knew that she had given up. And I remember crying in the other room, with my forehead on the floor, praying to God so He'd just take her away. It was no use looking at the dying body of my already dead grandma. Her eyes had no life anymore. I was taking care of a stranger. But I remember that one time, after chemo, my mom pick us up and on the way home, she talked with my mom. And it felt like everything was fine. I could hear her again. The rise and fall of her voice. I pretended to sleep, closing my eyes, tricking myself that she was fine, healthy as ever in front of me in the passenger's seat. I don’t know whether she saw me crying from the side mirror. I knew that mom didn’t know until I told her a few weeks ago. But that was the last glimpses of her. The rest were days spent with a stranger inhabiting my grandma's dying body. The night before she left for more treatment, she called me into the room and gave me some money. She said thank you for taking care of her. I stared at the money, unwilling to take it. But she made me take it. And I did. I cried so much afterwards. I can’t remember what I did with it. I didn’t wanted to remember. Out of all the strangers that inhabited my grandma's body, the strangest was the one on the last few hours of her life. I remember walking into the ice alone. Looking around at all the other patients. My grandma was placed in a room of her own. I sat down beside her, took her hands in mine. This stranger didn't even know who I was. She cried and mumbled things. Her eyes were vacant. The nurse told me she had been this way for a few hours. I started crying, whispering God’s sweet gracious names into her ear and she calmed down a bit. The nurse left us. I can’t remember how long I was in there, but it wasn’t long. Then I left. I think I didn't even look back. I went home with my dad and sister after that. The next day, the rest of the family went to visit her again, they asked me if I would come, but I told them no. my sister didn’t want to either. So we stayed home, just the two of us. Watching cooking shows with hot guys on them (I think the title was Hot Guys Who Cook). That evening, we got a call. I could hear my mom sniffing, but her voice was steady and calm. I could hear relatives crying in the background. She told me that my grandma had passed away. And it was one of the strangest moments in my life. If this was a movie, I’d be bawling, inconsolable. But what I did was nodded, said ocean put down the phone. My sister was looking at me, I told her the news as bluntly as I could. I guess the both of us were going through the same thing. All we felt was this numbness washing over us. We had mourned for our grandma months ago. I have never seen her cry and neither had she seen me cry in the duration of those months. It was strange, coming home after I saw her body wrapped up in white. The house felt so empty. I felt so empty. Unable to feel anything anymore. I kept forgetting that she isn’t there anymore. The next few months were hazy. Surreal. It felt weird, lying on the bed she used to lie on.no more medicines for me to check. I don’t know how I got through it. The death of a beloved family member. The truth is, for me, the hardest moments was when she refused to eat and the years that came after her death. I’ve been going through new life experiences. I graduated high school, got my driver's licence, and got myself into unit the hardest thing is when I realise that these are the moments that she will never see. She would always joke about whether she’ll meet my first boyfriend, or watch me get married, see me earn my own money. And me, foolish me, had always thought that she'd make it. In my mind, even when I was old, she would still be there, looking as she is, just older. It’s been hard without her. I thought it would get easier. But in a sense it just doesn't. I go through days, going through new experiences, unable to tell her how it was. And I’d keep it to myself, letting it go when everyone is asleep. It sucks. It just does. And I don’t know what to do about it.

[thegreenhorseman]

So much has happened since December that I haven’t had a chance to properly recap 2019 and lay out the plans for 2020.

At the beginning of January 2019 I was taking a hiatus from riding.  I had Blade, Zeno Bay, and Vai Via. I was in a great routine of spin class with my mom.

I also did a week of farm sitting for a new friend who became a weekly trail riding buddy this summer.

I brought my grandma to see the retired thoroughbreds of Old Friends at Cabin Creek

More about our trip: Taking Grandma to See the Horses

I rode along with one of my best friends and saw what a day in the life of a farrier was like.

Read the interview here: Interview With a Farrier

Read about our day here: A Farrier’s Assistant

By February Zeno Bay was looking and feeling like a totally new horse.  This is a 21-year-old thoroughbred gelding.  I began to foster him with the rescue group in September.  Being on a grain-free diet and outdoors 24/7 we successfully got him to gain a fantastic amount of weight in only 3.5 months.

All about Zeno Bay: Happy Birthday To…

A wonderful group of friends invited me out for cow sorting.

A couple girlfriends and I took a trip to Pennsylvania for the Horse Expo in March!

Adventure Time here: The Blade Chronicles: Mom’s Ignoring Me

We became chicken farmers in March as well!  In two months we raised them on our porch until we finished building the coop.  We designed and built the coop ourselves.

Article when the chicks arrived: New Additions to The Green Horseman’s Clan

Article when the chickens moved outside: The Blade Chronicles: What are Those?

When the weather got better we enclosed the carport to protect the hay better.

I also moved tack out into the tack room of the barn.

More on our projects here: Projects

VaiVia began to show how playful and special he was.  We always knew this but he started to relax and come out of his shell in the springtime.

More about VaiVia: Celebrations This Week and V’s Big Story

I had the honor of interviewing a fabulous young trainer who has been making waves in training wild mustangs.

Read the interview here: From Cheering to Training, An Interview with Samantha VanFleet

Through the spring and summer, I worked on projects and developed a new love for carpentry.

Some of my projects: The Busy Life of the Green Horseman

And Some More: Vacation Means Getting Stuff Done

We did end up hiring someone to help create a fantastic sacrifice area around the barn.  No more flooded stall and hoof-deep clay mud!

I managed to severely sprain my ankle.  I don’t believe it was broken but considering it still bothers me 6 months later I’d wager that something tore.  Despite this I managed to hobble myself all around to hang out with friends.

More on that here: When the World Gets You Down

and here: The Blade Chronicles: Someone Tell Mom She’s Broken

I had the chance to try out cross country for the first time on my trainer’s amazing palomino, Cassian.  I still call him my palomino unicorn.

Cross Country Clinic: An Adventure With My Unicorn

Zac and I had a date at the county fair.  I enjoyed seeing a bunch of horses performing and doing something different than the average horse.

Something special about a county fair: Horses With Different Vocations

Bt the end of summer tensions had risen to a boiling point with the rescue and I began to make plans to find a second permanent horse before sending Zeno Bay and Vai Via back.  I hated to see them go but it was a bad situation only getting worse with the rescue itself.  As difficult as it was for me it was also exciting because I was able to begin looking for a new horse to become our permanent family member.  I saw a lot of really great horses.

All about the search: The Green Horseman’s Latest Quest

COCO

In the middle of my horse shopping, a very special pair rode into town.  Meredith and Apollo from The Centaurride stayed with a friend not far from my home.  Though her path didn’t lead her to stay at our home I had the honor of treating her to a nice warm meal.

About the Centaurride: Centauride.org

Link to the article:

Photo courtesy of Stacia S

Tiger, or R Tom Cat, galloped into our hearts in September.  For a brief period of time, I was the proud home of four bay thoroughbred geldings.

Sunday Special: Announcing My New Horse!

The Blade Chronicles: My New Brother

Tiger’s First Weeks

Fall hunter pace season was underway.  I planned to begin by attending LKTA.  Tiger had thrown a shoe and gotten a hoof bruise.  Instead, we discovered how amazing Blade was!

Read it here: We Hunter Paced; But It Was Not What I Expected

Photos courtesy of Brian Wilcox at www.connecticutphoto.com

In the weeks to follow Tiger participated in two hunter paces.  We had a lot of fun together despite not knowing each other incredibly well.

Read all about it at: Tiger’s Hunter Pace(s)

  Photos courtesy of Brian Wilcox at www.connecticutphoto.com

December had to have been, without exaggeration, the worst month of my entire life.  I didn’t write about it all but in a brief summary:

The worst pain:

Maybe TMI for some of you but I had an IUD (intra-uterine device) inserted.  I’ve never had children.  The process had to have been one of the most intense pains I’ve had to experience.  I have been bitten, kicked, trampled, broken bones.  It didn’t compare.  I was in shock; shaking, sweating, and nauseous for hours.  It took days for the pain to fully subside.  Bardi and Kain both comforted me while I recouped.

Broken EVERYTHING:

Our ATV wouldn’t start.  We bought it new and we simply couldn’t get it to turn over.

The dump cart I used for mucking the paddock and hauling out bales of hay or water bit the dust.  The welds wore out and the sliding door was bent out of shape.

Our ShelterLogic collapsed, taking with it a corral panel….both were completely bent in half.

Lucky To Be Alive:

One weekend Zac and I ventured to the store…roughly eight minutes away from our home.  We wanted to beat the incoming storm.  We were on our way home and the snow had begun but was a light dusting.  We played it safe and drove slow.  Approaching an intersection slowly (yet downhill) we failed to stop….we slid through, across the street and into a ditch.  We came within 2 feet of a telephone pole and miraculously no cars were approaching the intersection at the time.  Somehow we managed to pull forward and into a person’s driveway to get out.  At the next intersection, about 500 feet later, we learned that in our road departure the brake lines were severed.  Zac had to use the emergency brake to stop the car from rolling into a much busier road.  We made it home safely and had the car towed but we are very lucky.

Food poisoning:

We have been enjoying HelloFresh and I had been planning to write all about the amazing meals we’ve been cooking together as a couple.  Unfortunately one of the meals we made was no good.  We suspect the chicken was bad.  We had a very rough couple of days…BOTH of us were sick to our stomachs!  Thank goodness for two bathrooms.

This is food from Hello Fresh but NOT the meal that made us sick.

Heartbreak

Blade broke his leg catastrophically while playing in the upper field. What was a joyful afternoon full of love and happiness ended with an indescribable loss.  Friends, family, and neighbors all cried.  Tiger mourned.

The Blue Horseman

Tiger’s Tale

I lost my best friend in December, but not before enjoying him charge through the fresh knee-deep snow.   Blade and Tiger played joyfully together often before his death.

The Friends’ Final Frolics

Tiger has been healing well with the arrival of his new friend, Nahe.

And I am beginning the year with some amazing new swag thanks to Cheshire Horse and my loved ones!

The Silver Lining

NOW IT IS 2020

What’s next?

Most of what I accomplished last year came on a whim.  I didn’t have plans for it all and I can’t really say what exactly is to come for the year.

I plan to continue building jumps.

Continue hunter pacing.

I am hoping to ride at Equine Affaire and/or in a clinic.

Really focus on my weight because I deserve it and so does Tiger

Decide on what’s next for the family; Tiger will need a permanent sibling.

  WHAT TO EXPECT ON THE GREEN HORSEMAN

Since I’m getting to this recap and forecast a couple weeks late you may have already noticed something new on the site.

Introducing The Sunday Review.

EVERY OTHER SUNDAY I will be publishing a new review of a product I have purchased and used.  The review will populate in your regular feed but you can reach it through the menu up ^^top^^.

The first review of the year began with The Sunday Review – CAVALI CLUB SPECIAL.  The second review is scheduled for THIS COMING SUNDAY 01/19/2020.

So to look again at The Green Horseman’s weekly schedule!

SUNDAY

The Sunday Review

Every other Sunday

MONDAY

Fun Videos

Catch it on The GH Facebook page

You can also find the FB page to the right——>

TUESDAY

Take The Reins Tuesday

Also found only on The GH Facebook page

Features good reads from other blogs and websites

WEDNESDAY

Wordless Wednesday

A photo I have taken.  Sometimes the photo has a quote but otherwise, there are no words.

FRIDAY

Farm Friends Friday

Also found only on the GH Facebook page

Features a slideshow, a video, or some photos taken from the Green Horseman’s farm (or life in general).

SATURDAY

Nothing scheduled for Saturdays at this time

So stay tuned and buckle in.  Visit often and drop some comments.

  As always…THANK YOU SO MUCH for visiting, commenting, sharing, and your overall love and support.

  Past, Present, and Future So much has happened since December that I haven't had a chance to properly recap 2019 and lay out the plans for 2020.