#and we had company for Thanksgiving so my husband was like “let's decorate the tree and have it up!”

[scientistknife]

I hate Christmas so much, but everybody I love is super into it so I'm forced to play along, adding to my intense hatred of the holiday.

[sdottkrames]

Five Little Turkeys

@comfortember prompt 17: Flashbacks

Summary: Five Iron Fam Thanksgivings Past + 1 Present

Notes: Happy Thanksgiving!  Even if you don't live in the US and don't celebrate, I hope you take a little time to think of something you're grateful for and appreciate it. I am so very very thankful to all of you! and a special Thank You goes to @baloobird for always believing in and inspiring my writing, to @an-odd-idea for tagging me in fun things and for beta reading some stuff for me, and to @littlemissagrafina for leaving the absolute best comments and to every other friend I’ve made in this wonderful fandom. I love you all.

Read on AO3: Here

Five little turkeys standing at the door,

One waddled off, and then there were four.

____________________________________

May Parker had never hosted thanksgiving before.

Maybe that was a good thing, because she’d already managed to ruin the mashed potatoes, which resembled concrete more than anything, and burn the green bean casserole past recognition.

At least Ben was having more luck with the turkeys and gravy, and that was the most important part, right?

Right?

Oh goodness, this is going to be a disaster. I never should’ve agreed to host Ben’s family.

At least baby Peter’s gonna be here.

Staving off tears and chanting more positive things to herself in her head, May turned her attention to something she knew she could do: opening a can of cranberry sauce and dumping it in a festive pumpkin shaped bowl. Then she grabbed the homemade rolls Ben had made that morning and put them carefully in a basket with a pretty white towel to cover them.

Ben came up behind her, surprising her as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

“Smells amazing,” he murmured in her ear.

May giggled despite the tears that threatened again. “Well, maybe it’s the ruined potatoes, or the burnt green beans.”

Ben spun her around, tenderly kissing her. “I wasn’t talking about the food, babe.” May blushed. “Besides, I’ve already called my mom, and she’s gonna buy more potatoes on her way to make a fresh batch, and we’ve got plenty more cans of green beans to make the casserole again. We’ll be just fine.”

Goodness, May loved this man. She told him so as she kissed him again, and again, and again.

May opened the door to her husband’s family and inhaled a steadying breath as she took in the five of them standing there. She focused on their genuine smiles and kind eyes.

I can do this.

Once hugs and warm greetings had been exchanged all around and a new batch of potatoes had been made, the others put their offerings on the beautifully laid table. What May Parker lacked in the cooking department, she made up for in the decorating department, and the table was stunning, and the food even tasted better than May had hoped. However, it quickly became apparent that it didn’t really matter what food had been made. Little 14-month-old Peter was the star of the dinner.

It was hard for him not to be with the chubbiest of cheeks and the sweetest of smiles. All eyes were on him as he tried turkey for the first time, then stuffing, and cranberry sauce. He was more interested in mashing the food with his fingers...until pumpkin pie. The little boy’s eyes widened as the sweet dessert hit his taste buds, and he eagerly made grabby hands for more. All the adults giggled along as he shoved another bite into his mouth, clumsily holding his spoon.

Ben was right, May thought. Everything is just fine.

She looked around again, her eyes lingering on her husband, who smiled back at her.

More than fine.

________________________________________

Four little turkeys sitting near a tree,

One waddled off, and then there were three.

_________________________________________

Tony stared at his phone, trying and failing to keep the disappointment off his face. It seemed to fill him, all the way from his toes to the top of his head, accumulating into a grey cloud that dumped great drops of homesickness all over him.

He’d been looking forward to Thanksgiving. He wasn’t all that excited to see his father, of course, but he and his mother did get along, and he missed her. It was his first year at college, and he hadn’t seen his mother in nearly three months. He couldn’t wait to sit and play piano with her, hear her singing, feel her hugs. His mom had also promised him that his Uncle Jarvis and Aunt Anna were going to be there, and he was beyond excited to see them too. All that excitement turned sour in just one text.

I’m sorry it said.

Sorry sorry sorry. Always sorry.

He should’ve known his father would ruin plans. Should’ve never gotten his hopes up. His parents were traveling (again) and taking Jarvis with him. There would be no thanksgiving.

Tony resigned himself to spending the holiday by himself, hoping to see his mom and the Jarvises at Christmas. He started unpacking and putting everything away.

Then his roommate walked in.

“What’re you doing?” James Rhodes- Rhodey, as Tony had dubbed him their first week together- said.

“My parents are traveling. I won’t be able to go home,” Tony answered flatly. “I’ll be staying here for thanksgiving.”

Rhodey didn’t hesitate. “Oh, no, you won’t. Pack your stuff, Stark. You’re coming to the Rhodes house.”

“You don’t have to do that, really. I’m alright staying here. I’m honestly used to it! I prefer to be alone, actually.”

Tony tried to keep his cavalier persona firmly in place, playing the situation off. But he should have known that Rhodey wouldn’t buy it. From day one, his roommate had been able to see right through Tony and his bullcrap and been able to call him out on it.

Rhodey arched an eyebrow, placing a hand on his hip. “Uh huh. That why you’re sitting here moping?”

“I’m not moping!”

“I can practically see the storm cloud above your head!”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Fine. Well, are you sure your mom-”

Rhodey placed a hand on Tony’s shoulder, cutting him off. His dark eyes were serious. “My momma would have my head if she knew I let you stay here by yourself. I’ll let her know to expect you, but trust me when I say that it won’t be a problem.”

Tony took a deep breath and placed the shirts and bag of toiletries he’d unpacked back into in his small duffle while Rhodey called his mom.

“She said you better come, and expect to bring home at least three Tupperware full of left-overs.”

And so Tony found himself sitting around the table with Roberta Rhodes, Lila Rhodes, and his roommate. He hadn’t expected to be treated like family so quickly, but it was clear that’s exactly how they viewed him as the chatted and passed him turkey and stuffing and cranberry sauce.

Later, the Christmas tree cast a warm, happy glow over the four individuals laying around the living room in various stages of consciousness, their full stomachs lulling them into a contented stupor. Tony was surprised the tree was up so early, but he was glad it was. It’s branches were laden with ornaments that clearly held stories (like the handmade snowflake one that featured a picture of a young James Rhodes wearing the ugliest sweater Tony had ever seen, grinning ear to ear without any front teeth), so different from the sterile red and white decorations that went on the tree at his home every year.

The warm light and company seemed to fill him with happiness and contentment all the way from his toes to his head, accumulating into bright sun rays around him like a halo that warmed every part of his soul.

It was the best thanksgiving he’d ever had.

________________________________________

Three little turkeys with nothing to do,

One waddled off, and then there were two.

_________________________________________

The first year is the hardest Tony had heard it said.

It gets easier people promised.

Well, so far, it had been the hardest year, but Tony didn’t think it was going to get any easier after the one year mark.

His parents were dead. Killed. Gone. Right before Christmas.

At each new “first” without them, Tony found himself turning more and more to the bottle, saw his roommate and best friend become more and more concerned, his grades more and more in danger.

Tony had refused Rhodey’s offer to come be with him for thanksgiving. He loved them, but he couldn’t stomach being around a family.

His family, because the Rhodes’ were almost more family than his own parents had been.

Maybe that’s why it was so hard.

So on yet another first- the first thanksgiving without them- Tony woke to a dull grey sky outside his window. Bare trees, brown leaves, and dead grass further matched his mood. It was another day to be drained from his memory, drowned out by the buzzing in his skull.

He was heading to grab a beer for breakfast (totally healthy, he knows) when a knock on the front door had him changing course from the kitchen to the entranceway of his apartment.

He had to grip the doorframe to keep from falling over when he saw who was on the other side.

“Jarvis?”

“Hello, Sir,” the man said with a kind smile, but he couldn't quite cover up the concern in his eyes.

“What are you doing here?”

“Well, Anna and I thought you might like some company today. Our neighbor gave us a turkey that is much too large for just the two of us, so we thought you might come help us eat it.”

Tony knew Jarvis well enough to know that it wasn’t really a question. Jarvis wasn’t leaving without him. And, really, Tony couldn’t refuse even if he had the energy or desire to.

“Okay.”

Later that night Tony hugged them both goodbye, a stomach full of good food softening the sadness that had gripped him earlier that day. After Jarvis dropped Tony back off at his apartment, Tony paused as he was heading up the stairs, and turned around.

“Jarvis?” The man looked up from putting the car in gear. “Thank you. And Anna, too.”

Jarvis’ face softened. “Anytime, sir.”

And as Tony went to bed, he grabbed a beer out of habit, but thought twice before putting it to his lips.

Maybe it was okay to feel sometimes.

He dumped the beer down the sink and threw away the bottle.

___________________________________________

Two little turkeys in the morning sun,

One waddled off, and then there was one.

___________________________________________

The bright sun woke Peter up. He wandered blearily into the living room, and was surprised to find his aunt already awake, holding a cup of steaming coffee.

“Hey, baby,” she murmured, holding out her arm for Peter to snuggle under.

He didn’t need to ask about the red rim around her eyes, or what she was doing up so early. The space on the side of the couch from her was too conspicuously empty, the two places already set at the table too obviously missing a third, the hole in their heart too Ben-shaped to be ignored.

“I’m sorry,” Peter whispered, again, the guilt eating him as it always had, but especially on holidays.

Once May had found out about Spider-Man, Peter had finally cracked one day and told her the real details of Ben’s death after a particularly bad nightmare about the night featuring rain that was red like blood and gunshots echoing all around him. He’d sobbed and sobbed, begging her to forgive him. She hadn’t even thought about it. She’d wrapped her arms around Peter, hugged him as tight as she could, and whispered over and over again that it wasn’t his fault.

But hearing it and letting himself believe it were two completely different things. Peter didn’t feel like he deserved May’s forgiveness. It was his fault that they were awake at 6 AM, watching the sun rise, and missing part of them.

“No,” May said, her voice firm but her hand very gentle as she pulled back to place it on Peter’s cheek. “No. None of that. Ben would not want us sitting here, moping away on his second favorite holiday.”

Peter chuckled at that, remembering how his uncle would always insist that if he weren't already a religious man, he might start his own church dedicated to food. Thanksgiving was almost as holy to him as Christmas.

“Remember that year he made cupcakes that looked like turkeys? With the little candy corn feathers? You couldn’t eat it cause the turkey was ‘looking at you’?”

They both chuckled, snuggling together again.

“Or that time you tricked us with that stupid microwave turkey thing and he called in a panic, screaming for you not to do it?” May laughed.

“Oh! what about that time he laughed so hard, eggnog came out of his nose?”

They continued to remember and honor the man they were missing. As the sun rose and lit their apartment, the memories of thanksgiving’s they’d shared lit their hearts.

“Everything’s going to be okay,” May whispered, remembering her husband’s words from years earlier and taking solace in them once more.

“Yeah,” Peter murmured. “It will. Thanks, May. I’m so grateful I have you.”

“You, too, kiddo. More than you know.”

__________________________________

One little turkey better run away,

For soon it will be Thanksgiving Day.

__________________________________

Peeling potatoes was a mindless task, and Tony found that to be a very not good thing.

It meant his mind had time to wander and think about...things. Like Peter, and May, and the thousand others who weren’t celebrating Thanksgiving for yet another year. Though it had been four years since Thanos, Tony still found his mind wandering every holiday, thinking about and dwelling on the people who were unable to celebrate.

Especially one very specific person. The most important one, really, at least to Tony. And Tony hadn’t even been able to tell him.

To make up for lack of words shared in life, Tony found time every holiday to talk to Peter. Found a little private space that was quiet and secluded and talked to his kid. His kid. It had taken that kid’s death for him to finally admit it, but that’s what Peter had been to Tony. Pepper knew what he did even though he hadn’t told her, and he had a feeling she purposely kept Morgan busy to give him that quiet time.

Tony placed the last peeled potato in the bowl and turned to his wife. Her face softened at the look on his face, and she nodded, gesturing to the back door.

Tony squeezed her hand before walking out the door and to the group of small birches by the lake that he’d chosen for this purpose. He called it Peter’s Place. He was working on a sign for it.

“Hey, Pete,” he whispered, sitting on the ground and leaning up against his favorite tree. “Happy thanksgiving, bud. Another one without you, and I gotta say, it doesn’t get easier. But it gets...different. I hope you know I’m thankful for you. Thankful that you opened my heart to having kids, that you let me get my fumbling attempts at parenting so when Morgan came I had a better grasp on how it worked. I’m thankful for you teaching me about memes, for the movie and lab nights, for your smile and hugs.” He paused to wipe his eyes. “Geez, you made me soft. Anyway, I just wanted to come out and say my piece as usual. I love you, kid. I hope you know that.”

He took a minute to compose himself before heading back to the house. He didn’t make it all the way in before the door opened and a little body was running towards him.

“Oh no! A monster,” he cried, running the other way, smiling as Morgan’s laughter peeled behind him. He ran slowly, letting his 3-year-old daughter catch up to him on her tiny legs. She grabbed his leg, and he theatrically fell to the ground, rolling and taking her with him.

She giggled, and he placed a kiss on her cheek, then another, then another, keeping her happy laughter ringing out.

Morgan was a bright spot in his life, the light that, along with Pepper, chased the darkness of his failures away and reminded him that despite all he’d lost, there was still so much to be thankful for.

And Peter would want him to be happy, to live, to be grateful and positive. That’s how he’d lived, after all.

So Tony kissed his daughter twice more, one for her, and one for his other kid.

“I love you,” he whispered to them both.

______________________________________

Soon it will be Thanksgiving day

______________________________________

Peter could hardly contain his excitement.

May laughed at him as she put the mashed potatoes (that Peter had made, with May “helpfully” giving tips and pointers...mostly to make him laugh) in a tin to bring with them to the Starks.

“Peter, calm down or I will intentionally make this take so much longer,” she threatened.

“But Maaaaay, I’m HUNGRY.”

“Yes, and I told you to eat something for breakfast. And did you?”

Peter mumbled something unintelligible.

“What was that?”

“No. I wanted to be hungry for turkey! And potatoes! And pie!”

“Peter, please,” she groaned, good naturedly. “Go get one of the super bars from the cabinet so your stomach doesn’t start digesting itself and so I don’t have to deal with you complaining the entire way to the lake house!”

“Fine,” Peter sighed, and dramatically went to grab a granola bar as requested.

“Grab two!”

Peter did, and waved them pointedly in front of her face. May laughed. “Okay, okay. Eat them, and let’s get out of here!”

They passed the time by belting Christmas carols on the ride down, laughing and dancing, and soon they were there. Peter carried the potatoes in and put them down on the counter so he could accept a hug from Morgan, who ran and jumped as high as she could, wrapping her arms around his waist.

“Petey!!! Happy Thanksgiving!” She shouted, placing a kiss on his cheek.

“Hey, Mo,” he said, smiling. “Happy thanksgiving.”

The little girl placed both her hands on either side of his face, very seriously looking into his eyes. “Peter, I am thankful for you.”

Peter couldn’t help but chuckle a little at her dramatics, even though his heart was swelling from her words. “Well, thank you. I’m grateful for you too!”

Her mission completed, Morgan squirmed to go give May a hug, so Peter turned to Pepper. She was wearing an apron with little turkeys all of it, and was rolling dough for rolls into balls to be placed in the oven once the turkey was done.

He placed a kiss to her cheek. “Happy Thanksgiving, Pepper!”

“Happy thanksgiving, sweetie!”

“Where’s Tony?”

Pepper’s face . “He’s out back. Why don’t you go find him. I’m sure he’ll be happy to know you’re here.”

Peter found Tony by the lake in a little grove of trees.

“Tony?”

“Hey kid,” Tony said, and something about his voice made Peter pause. He glanced around and saw a little sign that said Peter’s place. He looked quizzically at Tony. “I came here every holiday to talk to you while you were...gone. I guess old habits die hard. I couldn’t not come here today.”

Peter blinked back tears. “Wow,” he said, unable to find more eloquent words.

“Pete, you know I love you, right? And that I’m grateful for you?”

Peter’s voice wouldn’t form the words, couldn’t make sound come out through the lump of emotion in his voice. He settled for hugging Tony instead.

“Yeah,” he said finally. “You know I feel the same, right?”

Tony hugged Peter tighter. “Yeah, kiddo, I do.”

They stayed there for a little while, just holding one another, basking in each other’s love and the intense gratitude of being able to be together again that seemed to overwhelm them.

Eventually, Tony let out a watery chuckle. “Geez, today’s supposed to be a happy day. I blame you for making me all emotional!”

Peter nudged Tony with his elbow. “Rude, old man!”

And the two, still linked together by arms thrown over shoulders and around waists, headed back to the house.

As Peter looked around the table as they all sat down, the Starks, May, even Happy and Rhodey, he allowed himself to be a little bit sappy. This was what Thanksgiving was truly about, anyway: family. And he really couldn’t express how grateful he was for each and every one of them, including the ones he’d lost. He closed his eyes and mentally committed the moment to memory.

“Happy thanksgiving, everyone!” He said, raising his glass.

“Happy thanksgiving!” They called back.

And it was. It really was.

[lovingalexlots]

Throw Back Thursday v.5

Surprise! Wait, what!? is the throwback this week. It’s one of the longer installments of the D.A.F. series and I liked how it turned out, so it’s saddening to see that it hasn’t been that popular :(

_____________

Ao3 Link

Posting date: 7-17-19

Rating: Teen and Up

Word Count: 2,215

Relationships: Merthur

Other Tags: Established Relationship, Married Life, Anniversary, Nothing goes right, EVERYTHING GOES WRONG, Fluff and Humor, Romance, Awkward Dates, Poor Merlin (Merlin), Arthur is a sweetheart

PART OF MY DOMESTIC A.F. SERIES

Summary:

Merlin is determined to blow Arthur away for their anniversary, but everything that could go wrong, made it their personal goal to do just that.This is just not his night...

(Fic below cut)

It’s almost been a year since Arthur finally made up for his sad excuse of a proposal that hectic Thanksgiving day. Arthur may have beat him to the punch for the proposal, but Merlin is dead set in knocking him out of the park for their anniversary.

He has it all planned out.

They’ll go on their usual walk through the park, but with an added romantic flare, compliment of Merlin’s free time and determination. Then he has reservations at the fancy new restaurant in town that they’ve been wanting to go to. After that, knowing how much Arthur likes sweets but refuses to say, they’ll go to the sweets factory to make handmade sweets together. Bonus: they can make some gifts to give for the holidays that are right around the corner.

Once they’re done there, they’ll go home and Merlin will surprise Arthur with tickets to their favorite band’s concert that’s happening the next town over. A two-parter date will definitely knock Arthur’s proposals on their asses.

The night was gonna be great.

However... Merlin’s luck had other ideas...

xXxXx

The first part of their walk is normal, no decorations no nothing. Around the next bend in the trail is where Merlin began setting them up. He keeps glancing over at Arthur in anticipation. He wants to see Arthur’s reaction as soon as it happens. He’s dying to know how the man will react.

They round the bend and Arthur’s steps slow. The trees along the straight part of the path are lightly sprinkled with fairy lights. It starts with just a few here and there at the beginning, then the trees gradually grow more full of lights the farther down the path they go.

Merlin’s eyes are glued to the blond. The lights twinkle in the man’s eyes, leaving Merlin to gawk at the picturesque sight. Arthur turns to Merlin with a soft look.

“When did they put these here? It’s not Christmas yet,” he says innocently. The little prat knows exactly why the decorations are there.

“Oh I don’t know, maybe they wanted to do it ahead of time this year,” Merlin huffs and turns to walk ahead. Fine, if he wants to play it that way, Merlin will just ignore the lights. Never gets any thanks for things. Why would he expect it now?

Arthur chuckles as he hurries up to walk next to Merlin again. “C’mon sour puss, I was just teasing,” he laughs, grabbing ahold of Merlin’s hand and interlocking their fingers. “How’d you manage all this?”

“I used this thing called a ladder, it helps people reach tall places.” he snarks. Instead of dignifying that comment with a reply, Arthur leans in and kisses his husband. As they kiss, something drips onto Merlin’s cheek. Confused, he pulls away. He swipes at it and it’s only water?

For a split second, he thinks maybe Arthur is crying, but has no idea why. Another drop hits his head, then one dinks the end of Arthur’s nose. Yep, definitely not crying.

That’s their only warning before a sheet of rain starts pouring down on them. The two are caught off guard and run for the gazebo that glows farther down the path. Merlin had also decorated it well, along with the second half of the trail after it. The way he set it up made it seem like the gazebo was in the middle with lights spreading out from there.

“Where’d that come from! There wasn’t a cloud all day!” Merlin whines. His plans for a romantic walk under the stars was ruined! Not only that, but now they were all wet! Should they go change before going to dinner? No, they’ll have to wait until the rain dies down. By then they could be late if they go all the way back home and then backtrack to the restaurant. Merlin’s brain goes in a million directions trying to figure out how to deal with this sudden downpour.

Too distracted to see the slap to the back of the head coming.

“Ow! What was that for!”

“I said your name like five times, Mer lin,” Arthur chastises. “We can just wait here until it dies down.”

“But I got more plans! If we wait for it to lessen up, go home and get dry clothes, and then go, we won’t make it!”

“Then we’ll go drenched.”

“ What !?”

“You heard me, nitwit.”

“But… are you sure? It’ll be uncomfortable to continue all wet like this…” Merlin raises his arms in a gesture showing how his sleeves drip, making him look like a drenched scarecrow.

“You had plans. You went out of your way to get this all set up and we’re going to go through with it. I don’t care if a little rain got in the way.”

Merlin sighs, dropping his arms and letting his head fall onto Arthur’s shoulder. A breeze blew past and it sends a shiver up his back. Arthur wraps his arms around him and they stand there holding each other. The only sound is of the falling rain

xXxXx

After a while, the rain dies down and they’re able to rush back to their car. Good thing it has leather seats, at least Merlin won’t have to hear about Arthur bitching about the material getting wet. Arthur wasn’t even that car savvy, he just liked keeping them in pristine condition like the rest of his things.

Just as Merlin thought, they didn’t have enough time to go back home to change and then go back out to the restaurant. Arthur must’ve read his mind, cause he headed there without a word.

When they get there, the place is bustling with activity. No wonder it’s a good two week wait for reservations. It was quite popular due to it having just opened and Merlin was thanking his lucky stars for being able to squeeze in a reservation.

The hostess flips through the reservations, her lips tightening into a line as she hums.

“I’m sorry, but it seems that your reservation doesn’t exist. Or it may have been written over.”

This just in: Merlin’s stars aren’t the lucky kind.

He should’ve saw this coming. With how the night has been going, he really should’ve saw this coming.

Arthur tries to haggle with the hostess, then moves onto the manager. Merlin can only stand to the side as Arthur bites the employees' heads off. He was looking forward to trying some of their dishes. Glancing over at some of the tables near them sure didn’t help his empty stomach. Was that clam chowder? It looks delicious. Or that steak. Oh, and that baked sweet potato. His stomach protests the teasing.

Sadly, they still couldn’t have dinner there that night, but Arthur did get them a rock solid reservation for a free dinner next week. He even made it a point to watch the manager put it in the logs in big inked letters and underlines just to make double sure. Even took a picture with his phone for evidence.

Sometimes Merlin forgets that Arthur is the son of a big company owner and good at getting his way. Even convincing others that it was their choice from the beginning in most instances.

Once everything is done, they leave to head over to the next thing Merlin had planned. They were a little early, but it shouldn’t change anything.

….Well…

The earliness didn’t change anything, but the candy factory being closed sure did.

Merlin had thought that it’d be less crowded due to the rain. That maybe they’d get to be a little more alone than they would have if it was a busy day. They could even snack on candy while they do it since they missed dinner.

Fate was too busy being a bitch to listen to any of his hopes.

When they pull into the parking lot, it’s completely empty. Merlin’s stomach, his just as empty stomach, drops. The emptiness is replaced by a heavy stone and a knot.

Arthur stops in front of the veranda that shields the wide walkway and entrance. Merlin gets out and goes to the door to see what’s going on.

There’s a paper taped to the inside of the door. It apologizes for the inconvenience and explains that there were complications with the machines, so they’d be closed for the next few days.

Closed.

For the next few days.

The website didn’t mention this at all. Damn thing must be outdated.

Merlin hangs his head. He’s been looking forward to everything planned for today. Yet here he is, standing in front of a closed factory, soaked, hungry, and upset. The only thing keeping him going at this point is the fact that he has one last surprise waiting at home.

At least there’s no way the last one can be ruined. There’s no reservations to be lost, no weather to affect it, and no damn malfunctioning machines to keep them away from it.

He’ll give Arthur the tickets when they get home and Arthur’s smile will make up for the rest of their misgivings throughout the day. It’ll be great. Merlin is putting his foot down, this is going to work. Fuck the weatherman’s forecast, fuck the people who lost his reservation, and fuck the damn machinists for not keeping the factory in shape. He will make this day great if it’s the last thing he does!

xXxXx

When the two arrive home, Merlin rushes into their bedroom before Arthur can even take the keys out of the lock. He blinks after the man in confusion, not knowing what Merlin’s deal was.

Arthur is setting his shoes aside when Merlin comes back.

“I know today kinda went to shit --well, it did go to complete and utter donkey doo-- but I have one more thing for you,” he says before handing the blond a small rectangular box. Arthur snorts at Merlin’s weird phrasing, observing the box that was thrust into his hands.

It looks like it was used to hold a bracelet or something in the past, but it’s way too light to be holding jewelry at the moment.

He opens the box and in side lies two slips of laminated cardstock advertising their favorite band. Two tickets to go see them live in concert. The address says it’s going to be held in the next town over after the holidays.

A moment passes. Arthur just stares at the tickets with an unreadable expression. Merlin is growing more and more anxious about his husband’s reaction. He keeps himself from biting his cuticles as he waits.

Out of nowhere, Arthur bursts into a laughing fit. The anxiety subsides a little. He’s laughing cause he’s happy about the tickets, right?

The blond reaches deeply into his jacket and pulls out a white envelope, then takes two, identical tickets out of it. They’re slightly damp, but undamaged. In fact, they’re even in the same row as the ones Merlin got.

Arthur hands them over for Merlin to see them better. All the while, the man continues to laugh. Laugh like-like Merlin just told the funniest joke ever!

His hands start shaking and the words on the tickets blur. Every plan for the day has failed. The work he put into setting up their walk, the hoops he had to jump through to get the reservations, the thoughtfulness he put into each activity was thrown in the gutter. The garbage-ridden, muddy, flooding gutter. The tickets were his last hope of preserving the day and they failed .

And now…. Now Arthur was laughing at him.

The tear that falls down Merlin’s cheek stops Arthur in his tracks.

“Merlin?” he asks cautiously.

“Every--Everything went to shit, and now you’re laughing at me… I tried so hard to make today fun and great, but I failed and now you’re laughing in my face…” his voice is a little shaky as he speaks, fighting to keep more tears from falling. Add that to the list of things Merlin has failed at doing that night.

Arthur wipes some of Merlin’s tears away with his thumb. “I wasn’t laughing at you . I was laughing because look,” He holds the four tickets next to each other for Merlin to see, “We know each other so well that not only did we get the same gifts, but out of the whole concert hall, we chose the same row. They’re practically right next to each other.”

Merlin sniffles. “Yeah, that is kinda crazy,” he admits.

“You know what, let’s get out of these ridiculous clothes. How’s a hot shower sound? I’m freezing, I know you probably are.” WIth that, he sets the tickets down on the hall table and ushers Merlin up to their ensuite bathroom.

One of the perks and deciding factors when they bought the house was the large bathroom connected to the master bedroom. The tub was equipped with jacuzzi add ons, the sink had plenty of counter space, and the shower fit both of them .

All factors they used to their advantage quite frequently and in many ways. That night being one of the instances where they used them all…

The day might have been shot, but at least it ended with a good bang. Quite several, actually.

[trashboatprince]

Here is the second part of the little Christmas drabble thing I’m doing for the dad!Henry Beast son!Bendy au.

Time to include two of my favorite characters in this!

On with the fic!

--

Bendy happily looked out the window, waiting impatiently for the guests to arrive.

Earlier in the week, Henry had informed Bendy that they would be having some people visit and stay for Christmas. The giant demon was curious about who it could be, was it Henry and Linda’s kids? They had come up during Thanksgiving and had finally gotten the chance to meet Bendy, even if they had reacted, well, like most people did.

Screams, fear, and demands to know who he was.

At this point, it was becoming more of an annoyance than a problem for him.

Henry had told him that his kids couldn’t visit, they were busy with their families for the holidays, but instead, it would be Thomas and Allison Conner.

Bendy knew who they were, of course, they were friends of Henry’s from his time in the studio! And they had escaped with him and his creator when they finally broke the time loops Joey had set up for them. He knew Henry was still in contact with them, calling them up to chat and check up on how they were doing, sometimes sending letters.

Last month, they had sent a photo of themselves back at their barn, it was a nice little bonus to the letter Allison had sent.

The demon had been excited to hear that they were coming and was waiting at the window to see them pull up. He occupied himself with looking at the yard, seeing all the snow that covered it, and where Henry was shoveling the sidewalk. There was a snowman out on the yard, something he and his father-figure had made yesterday, looked a lot like the one Bendy had made in his cartoons.

He made a happy trill when he saw an old, green truck pull up alongside the sidewalk and spotted the two figures inside. He couldn’t hear Henry, but he knew he was greeting the couple as they stepped out.

Tom and Allison looked just as they had in their photo and from when they returned to being human. It was still strange to him, since he was so use to seeing them as toons, and looking much younger as humans, but it was still them.

He watched as the small group came to the door and he ran towards it in just a few strides, stopping right in sight of them as they stepped in. “Heh, he’s been waiting all morning for you guys.” Henry chuckled as he stepped aside, working to remove his coat.

“Oh, has he now?” Allison asked, looking just as amused as she sounded. She removed her boots and approached Bendy, holding out a hand, which he happily bumped his head against. “Hi there, Henry’s told us you’ve been doing well in the outside world, is that true?”

Bendy nodded, making a happy gurgle in his throat as Thomas snorted, rolling his eyes. It was clear that the man was still weary of Bendy, and the beast didn’t blame him, he had been a threat to the once-wolf for a long time, three years, just like Henry.

“Ah, our guests are here.” Linda spoke up, catching the group’s attention. Bendy watched as Henry introduced his wife to the other couple and the four just started to talk up a storm to one another. Well, Allison, Henry, and Linda talked, Tom just grunted or mumbled out a reply. He wasn’t much of a talker from what Bendy knew of him, even back in the days when he had been a real, living toon and not a demonic being. The man spoke when he felt the need to, he didn’t have to contribute to the conversation if he didn’t want to. Made Bendy wonder if he was a silent Boris by his own choice and not because of the machine.

He followed them as the Steins gave the Conners a tour of their home, smiling brightly when Linda told them that Bendy had helped her decorate the house for Christmas. He was very proud of his work, especially what he did for the tree. Henry even let him put the star on top!

After all of that, he left the couples to chat and catch up more while he sat in the living room. Christmas was in three days and he was excited, he wondered what was going to happen, what he was going to get, and if this ‘Santa’ character was really going to break into the house and leave gifts.

--

Christmas Eve had finally arrived and the giant demon was over the moon about it. He had seen his family and their guests moving about the house, getting dinner ready for that night, and getting things prepared for the meal the next day. He had seen Linda and Allison wrapping some last-minute gifts for their husbands, even letting him attempt to wrap his own present for Henry that Linda had gotten for him.

He had went out into the snow, playing with his friend Mary for a bit, before she had to leave to go to her grandparents for Christmas.

Now he was putting away the last of the dishes from dinner, hearing Henry quietly talking to Allison out in the other room, something about going to church. Ah, that’s right, Henry had told him about a Christmas Eve mass at their local church they attended every year. They would have taken Bendy with them, but... well... he is a rather tall, massive demon that intimidated even the toughest men in town with just a simple baring of his teeth.

He could hear them talk about what to do with him, just leave him at home? Attempt to take him? Would he be okay just sitting in the truck? “No, it’s gonna be cold and snowy tonight.” Henry mumbled.

“You don’t want to leave him here alone?”

“I’d rather not, it’s his first Christmas Eve with us, and I’d like for him to have company.”

“Then let me stay with him.” Thomas spoke up, catching the attention of not only Henry and Allison, but Bendy as well.

“You want to stay with Bendy, Tom?” Allison asked. “I know you’re still... you know, about him.”

Tom huffed, crossing his arms, standing his ground on this. Allison looked at him before sighing loudly, laughing lightly. “It’s so hard to change your mind, Tom. Alright, I’ll go with Henry and Linda, but you behave yourself! No picking fights, got it?”

He nodded, giving her an ‘okay’ gesture with his hand. And within twenty minutes, Bendy found himself in the living room with Tom, the man quietly sitting on the couch. He was looking at the television, a Christmas movie was playing on it and Bendy tried to pay attention to that. He suddenly feel so nervous and uncomfortable, this reminded him too much of the times he was locked in Thomas’ office because of Joey.

Thomas wasn’t a threat, but he was very quiet and gave off this air of ‘buzz off’ constantly. Except when he was focused on Allison, that was a different story.

“So.” The sudden voice made Bendy visibly jump, and he heard what could have been a laugh from the mechanic. “Do you like being outside of the studio?”

Bendy nodded quietly.

“Same here, I hated it there. Even when I was working for Drew.” Tom replied as he sipped from the coffee cup he had. “There were a few things I liked about it though. Allison, that’s the best, I didn’t mind Franks too much. Sometimes trying out the games in Bendyland was interesting. And then there was you.”

This confused Bendy as he turned to look at the man. “You were this weird thing that we couldn’t explain that lived in the studio. You were quiet until you started to learn to speak, and all you did was your typical toon stuff. I don’t know, I didn’t watch much of the show, but I was well aware that you were a prankster.”

Bendy snickered at this and Thomas continued. “You weren’t as bad as Joey made you out to be, both during the studio’s run and during the loops. Oh, I hated you when I was a wolf, you tried to kill my wife and I, you killed Henry. You were a monster, and even after we escaped that hellhole, even after we saw you with Henry, I still saw you that way.”

He took a long drink, setting the cup aside to fully look at Bendy. “But just these past few days, seeing how you are all day, and hearing stories from Linda and Henry, it got me thinking that maybe it was just how Joey wrote you that made me see you as a monster.”

Carefully, Bendy leaned in closer, looking at the man who had once been a Boris. Was Tom admitting that he didn’t find Bendy to be all that bad?

“You’re like some weird kid, Bendy.” Thomas mumbled in that gruff voice of his. “Even looking like this, you’re still that little cartoon demon that ran around and lived in my office. Keep it up.” With that, he gave Bendy a pat on the head and returned to watching the Christmas movie that was playing.

Bendy sat there, completely stunned, but a big grin came to his face as he bumped his massive head against the startled man, nuzzling him, ignoring the complaints from the mechanic.

--

“We’re back.” Henry called out as he stepped into his house. He heard music playing, possibly from the radio, before he looking into the room. He almost laughed at the sight, but decided not to. He gestured for Allison and Linda to come over to see what he was looking at.

He found that the radio was on, playing Christmas music, while on the couch was a sleeping Thomas, with Bendy’s head on his lap. The demon was out like a light as well, he was even drooling a little on the other’s lap. Seems like they had fallen asleep while playing cards, from what he could tell by the playing cards that were on the floor.

“Aw, that’s so cute.” Allison whispered. “Looks like an old man and his dog, anyone got a camera? I want to frame this at home.”

“Hold on, I’ll get it.” Linda giggled, leaving to find the camera.

“I wonder what we missed tonight, looks like it was important.” Henry spoke as he looked at Bendy, seeing him shift, making a gurgling-purring noise in his throat.

“Bet they had a nice talk, Tom likes private conversations.” Allison whispered back. “Looks like he gave Bendy his Christmas gift early.”

“Looks like it, too bad we’re gonna have to embarrass him about it when he wakes up.”

“Oh yes, that’s a must.”

--

Happy holidays, readers! :D

[the-record-newspaper]

The Life of Lucy Combs: Part XIV

By LARRY J. GRIFFIN

Special Reporter for The Record

Always Winter and never Christmas; think of that.  “How awful!” said Lucy.

—C.S. Lewis; from The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.

Of course Christmas Day was special to the Combs family.  When her husband, Jerry Sr., was alive, Lucy looked forward to the day—it was the only time of the year that he did not drink and the family could actually sit down at the ‘eating table’ together and feel safe. No physical abuse; no flying bullets. Predictably, it was the one day of the year that Jerry Jr.’s [George] “sober dad”—whom he referenced in a letter to The Record—emerged.  Neither Lucy nor her sons were privy to the reason for this Yuletide reprieve—it just was.  

Lucy strove to make the holiday season as festive as she could for her boys when they were young enough to embrace the magic.  “There was always a tree—a real tree,” Lucy recalled.  “One year, I bought an artificial one; the boys didn’t like it.  So, they went out into the woods, found a tree, cut it down, and brought it back home. They liked to do that.  Sometimes, it didn’t look like much; but, we’d decorate it anyway.”

“Stockings were hung by the chimney with care”…at the Combs house as well. “I told the boys to go get a sock that they could hang up.  Well, Jeff brought back an old baby’s sock.  I told him, ‘that’s not much of a sock.  Go back a find a bigger one.’  So he and George found a pair of my pantyhose and brought them to me.  I hung them up and began filling up one of the legs.  I didn’t have enough stuff to fill up both legs; so, I pulled the empty one behind the other and fastened it there. When the boys got up the next morning, they noticed that only one leg was filled while the other appeared to be missing.  They said to me, ‘Santa Claus took the other leg!’”    

One Christmas, when Jeff and George were about 12-years and 14-years-old respectively, Lucy remembered their coming to her inquiring as to what they would be getting for Christmas.  “I told them that I didn’t know if they would be getting anything that year.  Well, I went to Cooks and paid for two go-carts, wrapped them, and stood them up on their ends—they kinda looked like refrigerator boxes.”

George and Jeff noticed those sizable wrapped boxes and asked Lucy who they belonged to.  “I told them that I didn’t know; maybe their dad had bought me a refrigerator and a freezer. On Christmas morning when they came into the living room, they were disappointed when they didn’t see anything from Santa Claus.  After they complained, they asked about the two boxes that were wrapped and what was in them.  ‘I don’t know; I didn’t unwrapped them,’ I said to them.  ‘Open them up and see,’ they told me.  ‘Why don’t you open them up for me?’  You should have seen their faces and heard their shouts when they saw the go-carts.  Of course, we had to take them outside right then, put gasoline in them, and let them ride. They loved those things and drove them till they fell apart.”

But the “colors dulled and candles dimmed” from Christmases past—now it was Christmas present, 2008—less than two-months after her younger son disappeared with but few traces.  It was to be his first Christmas at home with his Mother in almost nine years.  For Lucy, that holiday season, there would be no trees, no presents, no decorations, no large family dinners—the single socks hung for her puppies, Scooter and Taco, served as the sole seasonal adornment.  She was left alone to her thoughts, assiduously retracing her steps from previous weeks and pondering over the initial ineffectual searches to locate Jeff.

Likely, her mind wandered back to that Saturday—October 25th—when she came home from work at 11:15 AM, found pork chops simmering and Jeff’s note. “…If I’m not home by dark, you come looking for me….”  (The underscore of the word ‘you’ was Jeff’s emphasis.)  But Lucy didn’t wait until dark.

“I went to town [North Wilkesboro] to look for Jeff…to see if I could find him until it was time to go back to work at Tyson’s second shift at 4:45 PM….I saw a North Wilkesboro police [officer] at Lowe’s Plaza; I asked if he had seen Jeff.” He had not.  She also stopped one of her son’s homeless friends and inquired of him; he told her that had not seen Jeff for “three or four days.”

Undeterred, Lucy returned home, grabbed a crowbar and hiked through the woods behind her house on trails her sons had made years before—all leading to Suncrest-Orchard  Road.  She left no stone unturned.  “I opened five manholes, two sewer lines… [and] looked in every hump, ditch, and the creek until it was time for me to go to work.” Nothing.

The next day—Sunday October 26th—Lucy made her way to Reddies River after she left worked.  Once there, she recognized familial faces—some of her Combs relatives were already there.  When she pulled off the road to park her car, Lucy was confronted by an angry man who commenced swearing at her—a man whom she identified as James Sheets (deceased.)

“I told him that he had better not done anything to Jeff.  He came at me and my nephew and brother-in-law grabbed him….I took a picture of him; he had five fingernail scratches down the right side of his face.  We searched for three or four hours.”  Nothing.

On Wednesday, October 29th, Lucy and Bill Pennington went back to Reddies River and found the tent tenement erected there by the couple whom she encountered six-days earlier sleeping in Jeff’s house. “I called out ‘Hello’ lots of times till that same woman came out of the tent that I made leave Jeff’s house.  I asked her, ‘Where’s Jeff?’  She said she ‘ain’t seen him.  ‘He left in car…with two women.’  When I asked the make and model of the car, she couldn’t tell me. I told her if anything has happened to Jeff, her a** is mine.  She just went back in the tent, and we left.  She knew where he was.”  

Two-days later—on Halloween—law enforcement officers came to Tyson’s looking for Lucy.  They had recovered some of Jeff’s stolen property and needed her to confirm their find. “They brought Jeff’s scooter and the [detached] hood, one helmet, one black coat, [and] one camouflage jacket.”

Curiously, the hood of the scooter was located in the river just behind the tent of the couple that she visited two-days earlier—later identified as belonging to Jamie and Tonya Clonch.  According to Lucy, neighbors along the river observed the couple riding Jeff’s scooter for approximately a week before they wrecked and parked it back on the trail where law enforcement found it.  They rode it to the Spears house wearing one of Jeff’s helmets and brandishing a .38 handgun around the grandchildren there.  The owners forced them to leave the property.  

“I don’t know how the law knew to go to the river on Halloween night and brought the scooter to Tyson’s for me to identify,” Lucy wrote in her diary.  “I asked; but, they never answered.”  To this day, the mystery remains.  

Curiously, during the Thanksgiving season, 2008, a detective knocked on Lucy’s door to retrieve the rent clothing that Jeff had left in the floor of his bedroom, wet and disheveled, on October 24th—over a month after Lucy had discovered and laundered them.  To date, the clothing is still in the possession of law enforcement.

And so it was Christmas, 2008; and, Lucy found herself alone, wrapped within her disconcerting thoughts; the puppies her only company.  Her younger son was missing; the elder was in prison. However, she did receive a handcrafted Christmas card from George—an inked Santa Claus standing atop a chimney holding a sign in his left mittened hand adorned the front of it.  The placard read:  “It won’t be Xmas without you, BRO….”  The inside faces read:

“May 20th, 1967 to October 24th, 2008

In Memory of Jeffery Lynn Combs

“Brother…May you rest in peace and God bless you!

Love, Mother and George

12-22-2008

 As one of her Christmas rituals, Lucy Combs would also hang stockings for her puppies alongside those of her sons.  Within the pages of her diary, she reflects upon this seasonal custom after her dog, Scooter, ran away from home.  “I hung Scooter’s Christmas sock up; and today, I took it down.  I cried and cried.  I’ve always hung a sock for him for 10-years.  I hung Taco [her second puppy] one ever since I’ve had him.  He misses Scooter too.  I’m still looking for him every time I get on the road. Hope to find him.”  

Then she lapses into a contemplative lamentation, “Everything I get and love so much always ends up missing—Scooter and poor little Jeff.”

The Solstice had passed; it was indeed Winter; but, for this Lucy there would be no Christmas.