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seacottons · 4 years ago

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— christmas with ateez

notes: fluff, mildly suggestive dialogue.

— park seonghwa

"But it's not fair! I gave you your present early!"

The male merely spun around, ignoring your whines as he adjusted the flickering lights over the fireplace. The wood crackled merrily in the fire and casted a brilliant orange glow onto the man's chiseled face.

"Yes, and I love it, but I never agreed that I'll give you your present early," he spoke as he jabbed the wood with the poker stick, sending bursts of sparks in the air, "Just be patient, love. Only a few more days."

"Okay, but," you grumbled as you sat crossed leg onto the couch, arms crossed and lukewarm coffee long forgotten on the table, "It still isn't fair."

With a sigh, your lover stands up to walk into the bedroom, before towering over you with a palm sized gift box. Taking the cover off, he dipped his hand inside, "Alright, fine. Since you won't stop acting like a baby, I guess it's only fair if I return the favor. You're going to love this," your eyes grew wide in anticipation as he simpered mostly to himself. He drew out his empty hand, only to shoot you a heart with his index finger and thumb. You guffawed momentarily, jaw dropping and heart sinking. Disappointment washed over you as he nearly doubled over with laughter.

"Park Seonghwa! You're not funny!"

You attempted to push his chest away with your fuzzy sock-clad feet, only for him to settle down in between your legs, hand propping his face up as he gazes at you in amusement. A mischievous glint sparkled in his orbs, one that you matched with a subtle glare.

"I was going to save this for Christmas, but you're so stubborn and insistent," reaching back, he pulled out a tiny, blue velvet box, hands working it open to reveal a ring, its brilliant, prismatic colors beaming against your shocked face as it caught the bright lights overhead, "I take it you know what this is for, right? I've been thinking about this for a while now, really, and I wanted to wait for the perfect opportunity to ask you, will you marry me?" His face fell instantly as tears streamed down your face, his brows knitting in worry as you broke down and wrapped your arms around his throat, nearly cutting off his air supply and circulation as you nodded aggressively against the column of his neck, voice hoarse and weak from the onslaught of overwhelming emotions, "Oh, you're such a big baby. My big baby."

— kim hongjoong

The sound of spools and scissors clattering down onto the floor snapped you out of your train of thought.

"This is too hard," Hongjoong flops down onto the floor of the living room, a whine escaping his throat, "I give up. I can't make an ugly sweater!"

Numerous colors of thread, ribbons, felt, and pom-poms littered the floor. The sound of snipping pierced the silence, and you smiled as you finally cut out the shape of a snowman. "You're just too much of a perfectionist, baby," you smile as you reach down to fluff his hair, "It's not supposed to look good. That's the point."

"But I can't help it," he whined as he rolled over so that his head rests in your lap, "It needs to look good! Even if it is supposed to be ugly. It still should look decent."

Rolling your eyes playfully, you lean down to place a peck against the tip of his scrunched nose, "Relax, Joongie. Just have fun with it."

You munched on gingersnap biscuits as you amusedly watched him as he fringed the edge of a red ribbon for the cuffs of his sweater. His brows furrowed in concentration as he added more stitches and pieces of fabric scraps onto the emerald-green article of clothing. An hour passed and you grew tired, hands trembling while readjusting the thread on the spool. Hongjoong was still going at it, stubborn hands picking and taking away at decorations he had already added onto his sweater.

"Stop, it looks great like that," you nudged him playfully, a yawn escaping your mouth as you leaned your head against his side, "Hurry up and finish, Joong. I'm sleepy."

He contemplates momentarily, hesitant hands outstretched over his sweater on the floor. Dropping his hands in his lap, he glanced at you for a split second, hands reaching to brush the hair out of your face as your head nodded with drowsiness, "Alright. I'll take your word for it, baby. Now let's get you into bed before you sleep on the floor again."

— jeong yunho

"Come on! The last store is closing in thirty minutes!"

The snow crunched beneath your boots as you pulled along your best friend through the numerous window shops. Lilac and blue shadows danced along the snow-covered sidewalk as shoppers briskly walked about in droves to shop for holiday gifts. Twinkling lights hung along eaves of the buildings, lampposts, as well as the bare trees in town. A variety of holiday songs can be heard throughout every turn, each shop displaying sparkling wreaths and flashing lights to beckon customers in.

Giant candy canes flanked the streets, leading to a monstrous sized evergreen tree in the center of town. Yunho's cheeks and nose flushed red from the cold, and despite trembling in his boots from the onslaught of sharp flurries beating against his face, he takes one look at your beaming expression and is instantly filled with a strange warmth that not even a crackling fireplace can provide.

He'll admit, maybe today wasn't the best day to get dragged by his best friend to go window shopping for all your mutual friends, but his soft spot for you prevented him from disagreeing. While you rambled on and on about how it would be cute to buy Jongho a muscly teddy bear and Mingi a sparkly crown, his mind drifted to when you stopped at a particular store and suddenly ceased your talking to gaze open-mouthed at a large snow globe filled with iridescent glitter, sparkling snowmen, and penguins. The afternoon sky was flecked with shining amber and pink clouds that illuminated your sparkly eyes, and the smell of cinnamon tea and roasting chestnuts filled the town's air.

He smiled to himself, already mentally preparing the gift wrap color and ribbon. Hopefully, this year his wrapping skills will improve. Maybe he'll just let Seonghwa help him out.

"Yunho, are you even paying attention to me!?"

— kang yeosang

You woke up to an unusually bright light, brows furrowing and eyes scrunching shut. Peeking your head over your lover's sleeping frame you noted the piles of snow gathering against the window you decorated with silly, little window clings last night. Frost stretched into arabesque patterns on the glass window panes, the crystals glistening gold in the morning sunlight.

The second your foot grazed the icy tiles of your bedroom, you opted to remain in bed and steal some of Yeosang's body heat. Lifting his limp arm, you tucked yourself into his hold, face buried against his chest. The shift in movement stirred him from his slumber, and he sat up bleary-eyed and confused.

Peering down at your frame silently, he settled back against the bed, tugging you closer and placing multiple pecks onto the crown of your head. Mornings like these were your favorite. You loved to cling onto your lover like second skin as the two of you slept soundlessly. He was always so, so warm and soft, and his embrace always felt like home.

The extra hours of sleep felt like mere minutes, and by the time you peeled your eyes open for the second time, Yeosang was no longer in the center of the bed spooning you. Sitting up with a deep inhale, you grimaced at the glistening snow outside, the icy wind howling and sending tuffs of ice scattering about. The sound of padded footsteps caught your attention, and you were suddenly overwhelmed with the scent of cocoa.

Yeosang stood in the doorway with an unamused expression, two steaming mugs of hot chocolate in hand and chocolate stains on his beige, fleece sweater, "Oh good, you're awake. You slept like a rock while I nearly set the kitchen on fire."

"What did you do.." you mumbled, fists reaching up to rub at your eyes, "Should I even ask?"

You're suddenly aware of the faint smell of something burnt in the air and the thin haze of smoke lingering throughout your apartment.

"Don't worry," he mused as he handed you the red mug of hot chocolate, your eyes instantly drawn to the dollop of cream and marshmallows floating on the surface. He settled onto the bed beside you, leaning in to give you a chocolate-stained kiss, "We needed a new microwave anyway."

— choi san

"See, your shower wasn't that bad," you cooed gently as you swaddled your boyfriend's cat, Byeol, in a fluffy blanket, carrying her out to the living room. You bumped into a hard chest, Byeol instantly taking the opportunity to dive out of your arms to scurry away. Snapping your head up, you were met with a smirking, cardigan-clad San who leaned against the doorframe.

You dropped your gaze to the dangling mistletoe in his hands, scoffing playfully at the sight. Throughout your entire apartment, mistletoes hung from every doorframe and corner with San's stubborn insistence. Leaning forward, you cupped his dimpled cheeks bringing him in closer to slot your lips against his own in a chaste kiss.

"I told you, you don't need a mistletoe to ask me for a kiss," you murmured against his mouth as he placed numerous pecks onto your glossed lips. Pulling you taut against his chest, he burrows his head into the crook of your neck, and you feel his lips twitch up into a knowing smile.

"But I've been getting more kisses thanks to all the mistletoes," he laughed against your skin, arms coiling tightly around your frame, his hands fondling your rear, "Even more than Byeol. So, I think I might just keep them hung up even after-"

The sound of glass shattering startled him, his frame jolting up instantly, eyes wide as saucers.

"That better not be my new snow globe."

Peeling himself from your hold, San scrambled to the bedroom, the sounds of his cries reverberating throughout the apartment. Reaching down to pick up the forgotten mistletoe, you laugh as he scolded Byeol, who in return dashed out of the room without a care in the world.

San stood in the doorway with a broken snow globe in hand, a pout eminent on his features, "I'm giving Byeol coal for Christmas," he spat angrily as you walked over to him, eyes rolling and hands working on unbuttoning the cardigan he had on to continue what he had previously started, "I knew she should've been on Santa's naughty list."

He suddenly ceases his rant, peering at you with a questioning gaze.

You raised your arm high in the air, and the mass of green dangled in front of San's curious face. His eyes flickered from the mistletoe to your face repeatedly, before his crestfallen expression morphs into one of mischief, "And you are most definitely on San's naughty list."

— song mingi

Mingi lets out a loud shriek as the roof of his gingerbread house topples over into a mess of frosting and gummy treats. Peeking over from your side of the table, you nearly laugh at the sight of him apologizing to the fallen gummy bears smeared with excess frosting, "Ming-Ming, try adding more frosting! It'll help."

"This is a lot harder than it looks!" he complained as he delicately squeezed a line of vanilla icing onto the edges of the cookie, "I nearly killed the gummy bear family. My hands are just too big and clumsy-"

He squeezed his eyes shut as he once again placed the remaining piece of gingerbread cookie onto the house, one eye peeking open to stare in awe at the stabilized cookie house. His eyes glimmered with joy, mouth stretching wide into a contagious grin as he silently points at his creation in fear that his voice will send it crashing down for a second time that night.

Mingi's gingerbread house was cute, you'll give him that. Smears of frosting stained the sides and the roof, and excess frosting dripped from the seams connecting all the pieces together. His hands scrambled to pick out the first of his decorations.

"Let's see," he hummed in satisfaction, "Baby, help me out. Peppermint candies or gum drops for the wreath on the door?"

"I don't think your gummy bear family will approve of their kind being used as a wreath," you giggled, your sock-clad feet intertwining between his legs underneath the table as you reached into the bowl of treats to plop a few in your mouth, "Pass me the red icing, please."

"You're absolutely right," he says in a matter of factly, eyes wide and curious as he squeezes dollops of icing onto the sides of the gingerbread house, "The gum drops will be the flowers around the house. Y'know, just like Spongebob's house?"

When he wasn't met with a reply, he peers up curiously, mouth dropping instantly with a loud gasp, "No! Stop! Don't eat the gingerbread men! I need those!"

— jung wooyoung

Crouching down, you admired the way the frost glistened in the sunlight, your fingers reaching forward to trace the arabesque patterns on the tree trunks and leaves. A flying mass of white flung over your head and onto the tree bark, another hitting you square on your bum. A high-pitched scream rung out almost immediately from your throat, your frame stumbling onto the snow littered ground.

You whipped your head back at the source of laughter from behind you, and your eyes instantly squint in aggravation at the cackling male behind you. Wisps of ebony locks peek out from his red beanie, framing his amused face and cheeky grin. He trudged towards the snowmen you two built ( the same one with the goofy, crooked smile he insisted looked like you ) and struck a pose on one leg, arms stretched high to form a heart as he winked at you, his long, lilac shadow stretching onto the expanse of soft snow.

"Baby, haven't I taught you to never turn your back on your enem-" He startled as a tiny golf-sized snowball slammed and crumbled onto his nose. Brushing off the snow and clenching his jaw, he then released a huff through his nose and whined, boot-clad feet stomping into the snow, "Ah! I was being cute for you! Don't ruin my moment!"

His nose grew considerably more flushed from the impact of snow, and he drew back, threatened, when you stomped your way towards him, a sheepish smile finding its way onto his features. Attempting to assert dominance, he cleared his throat, eyes smoldering as he leaned in close towards your face with a faint smirk, "It's okay to be a sore loser, you know?" Reaching down, he pats your bum free of the remaining snow, snickering to himself when you slap his hands away, before releasing a loud cry of surprise when you push him back to land on the smaller of the two snowmen.

"No!" he whined instantly, "Baby! You made me crush your twin." He scrambled up to assess the damage as you cackled beside him, his eyes practically slits as he pulled you in by your scarf, "That's what you're going to look like too, after I'm done with you."

— choi jongho

This year, your boyfriend disagreed to all your attempts to buy a faux tree for your living room, and instead flaunted his strength as he single-handedly chopped one down and dragged it to his car. The pungent smell of cedar was overwhelming in your tiny apartment, but you thought it was well worth the trip to see Jongho so proud and satisfied with himself for doing all the hard work with no aid.

He carefully stood on a stool as he wrapped golden tinsel around the tree, his brows furrowed on concentration, "Tell me if it's crooked, baby," he crouched down as he reached the end, hand outstretched in a silent gesture for the scissors. You placed the box of hand painted ornaments and ribbons down, hands reaching in to grab at a few, only to be stopped by Jongho, "No, no. It's okay, I can do it. Don't worry, love."

"But I want to-"

"Ssh," he places a finger to your pouting lips and stops your futile attempt to persuade him, "Let Macho Jongho do all of the work, princess."

Crossing your arms with a roll of your eyes, you watched him tie multiple bows of ribbon along the edges of the tree. Jongho always regarded you like delicate glass, never allowing you to do any tiresome work if he was around. In the beginning, it was quite endearing, but moments like these you wanted to pull on his ear and demand him to accept your help. Besides, decorating the Christmas tree was the highlight of the entire holiday.

A muffled cuss caught your attention, and you perked your head up to gaze at the frustrated male across the room. You watched as he struggled with the fairy lights, the thin metal coiling around his arms and fingers, "Babe," he called out in defeat, "I need help."

"I thought you'd never ask."

#ateez x reader #ateez reactions #ateez headcanons #ateez imagines #ateez fluff #seonghwa x reader #hongjoong x reader #yunho x reader #yeosang x reader #choi san x reader #mingi x reader #wooyoung x reader #jongho x reader

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renova-writes · 4 years ago

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Coney Island Hotdogs

Requested by: @maximeevansblog

Summary: “The reader is the daughter of bucky barnes, and the have a daddy - daugther Day, but the reader wants to sleep but her dad has other plans , and end of the Day the asks what do you wanna eat Mac donalds and the watch a movie, but the reader falls a sleep trough the movie, and he carries her to bed, but she wakes up and her dad she go back to sleep button, i am carring you to bed, and allot of fluff and cuteness and if its ready you tag me right thanks”

Words: 2,004

Warnings: Just basically a bunch of Fluff. Some mentions of bullying and death, but very light and fun

Other Works: masterlist

"Five more minutes," you whined. The clock on your bedstand read 5:39 am.

"Hey, button," you heard a voice whisper. The dark locks dangling over you told you that it was your father. "Get dressed. I have a surprise for you."

"It's too early."

"I know, but I'll make you a (your favorite caffeinated drink)" Your dad obviously wanted you to get up but was not going to force you. That was one of your favorite things about him. He never forced you to do anything you didn't want to.

"Really" Your sleepy eyes lit up at the mention of caffeine.

"Yes button, really. I promise. Just get yourself ready to go, and it will be waiting for you" he smiled and walked out of your room, "Also, bring a jacket. Just in case."

With that, your dad left. As you paused for a moment in your bedsheets, soaking up the last moments of fluffy warmth before you needed to get up, excitement crawled up your spine. It wasn't often that you and your dad did things, just the two of you. He was always busy with the Avengers, or you two were over with Sam and his family. When you did make time for special days, he usually asked you what you wanted to do beforehand.

His walking into your room at five in the morning, asking you to get up so that you two could have a bonding day, was unusual. He must have something special planned.

You forced yourself to get out of bed. That was going to be the hardest part. Half asleep, you dragged yourself over to the bathroom. You did your business and paused after washing your hands to brush your teeth and your hair. A smile crept across your face in the mirror as you tried to guess what you were going to do.

The zoo? The park? Maybe the museums?

You lived in the Avenger's tower in the heart of New York City, so there were many options. You gave up trying to guess and decided to go with whatever. It was going to be fun no matter what.

It was the beginning of spring, so it was warm during the day but cold in the mornings. You picked out a light floral dress, leggings, and a cardigan so that you could have layers. Some essential jewelry and your boots would also be a part of your outfit.

After putting on your clothes and some basic makeup, you made your way to the main room of your apartment. Just like he had promised, your dad had gotten your beverage from the Starbucks next to the lobby. He had probably gotten it before waking you up as it was sitting in the microwave/fridge.

"Hey button. Nice to see that you finally have awoken from your cavern of blankets," he joked, "You ready. I've got an amazing day planned out. Just the two of us."

"Yep. Where are we going."

"Button, that's a surprise!"

"Tell me!!" you giggled.

"Well, it wouldn't be a surprise if I told you," he smiled. A goofy grin was on his face, with admiration pouring out of his eyes.

"Just a hint…" you begged. "I'll probably forget by the time we get there."

"No. I want it to be a complete surprise," your dad insisted, "that's why, after you drink your drink, I want you to put on a blindfold."

Oh dear, he was very insistent about this whole surprise thing.

"But first, BREAKFAST!!!" he exclaimed as he presented you with your favorite breakfast, waffles, and strawberries. The plate seemed to sparkle with deliciousness as your stomach cried out in hunger.

"Yummy!!!"

"See, I remembered your favorite" he seemed very proud of himself. You had mentioned that you liked waffles when Wanda had made them for a birthday breakfast.

"Dig in! I put some strawberry syrup into the waffles themselves so that we would have extra strawberry flavor."

He handed you a fork and a knife, and you cut into them. The heat fell off of the bite on your forked, and you braced yourself in anticipation. Your father could cook; he and Steve used to make dinners for the team. But that was with Steve, now that he was gone, your dad rarely cooked. It had been hard for him. He was slowly getting over it; you definitely helped. Having somebody to take of, his therapist agreed, was very good for him. But his food was very hit or miss. This morning, however, the waffles were amazing.

The strawberries tasted fresh and had the perfect amount of sweetness. The waffles were eggy, precisely the way you liked them.

"Dad! These are delicious!" you exclaimed.

"I know, right, they're so good," he nodded in agreement, "but can I admit something? I stole the recipe off Auntie Wanda."

It didn't matter where he got the recipe from. They were delicious. It took the two of you a total of 10 minutes to eat the entire plateful.

He pulled a blindfold out of his pocket and put it around your eyes. You had faith that he wouldn't let you bump into anything. You weren't going to have to worry about the crowded city streets. When the strangers passing by got a glimpse of his metal arm, they always made a beeline away from him.

You knew it hurt him. You could see it in his eyes. He was your dad, after all. When you were younger, you couldn't understand why they were afraid, but now that you were older, you knew. It never, even for a second, hurt your relationship with your dad. You loved him. You knew that the real James Barnes was a cinnamon roll. This was a man who wouldn't kill spiders when he found them in the kitchen. This was a man who hung out with the Parker boy and played video games.

Even though the blindfold around your eyes took away your sight, you knew that your dad was checking to see if his gun was where he needed it. After all, he was the Winter Soldier. But that was an everyday thing. When he stopped rustling with his pockets, you felt a hand on your shoulder guiding you out of the room.

------

As soon as you heard the crowd's excitement, you knew where you were. The smell of cotton candy and hot dogs confirmed it.

Your dad had taken you to Coney Island.

You hadn't been there since you were a little kid and couldn't control your excitement. The hand that had been guiding you on your shoulder disappeared and removed the blindfold.

After taking a moment to adjust to the light, your eyes took in the flashing lights and kids running around. The roller coasters and carnival games all around you captivated your attention and caused a smile to form on your face.

"How's this for a surprise Button?"

"Dad, this is amazing! Thank you!!!"

"What ride do you want to go on first?"

The morning flew by in a blur. You and your dad had decided to go on every single ride you could. He had enjoyed the bumper cars and had won you a stuffed panda bear on one of the shooting games. You got the famous coney island hot dogs for lunch and ate on a bench on the beach. The entire morning, there was one thing that you really wanted to do… Ride the Cyclone.

"Hey, dad….."

"Yes Button"

"Can we ride the Cyclone"

"Um. of course. We have to. What's the point of coming here if we don't."

You threw away your trash and got in line. A man with purple hair and tattoos strapped the two of you in and took your picture.

"Alrighty ladies and gents," the loudspeaker in the car said. "Are you ready for the Cyclone"

Everyone on the train whooped and hollered in excitement, and the car lurched forward. Slowly you crept up the first hill and felt the adrenaline follow. At the top, you saw the people on the benches below. You couldn't help but compare them to little dolls from your height.

With that, the car reached the top of the hill and falls.

"Whoa, Button, I think I'm going to be sick," Buck said once you were off. He was looking somewhat green and queasy.

It was your turn to guide him... to a trash can. It turned out he wasn't going to throw up, which you were grateful for, but the Cyclone's toll had been taken. He rested his body on a bench and called it quits.

"What time is it," he asked. You checked your watch. It was two in the afternoon. "How about we do something a little, slower."

"Sure," you agreed. You were in Brooklyn, his home borough, and he decided to take you on a tour of where he grew up.

"And this is the alleyway where your Uncle Steve decided to get in all those fights," he said you passed by. "One time, after I saved his tiny ass, he told me that he thought he had pulled a muscle, and I was all like, 'Steve, you can't pull what you don't have."

You giggled at the thought of skinny Steve. Continuing on your tour, you saw his old apartment and walked through the one he shared with Steve. It had been turned into a museum, and you laughed together for an hour as he pointed out every single detail that had been changed.

"There was no way that we could have two beds! There was no heater, so we shared one! Why would they change that! It wasn't like we had anything going on between us!" he argued. You laughed as the tour guide still could not recognize one of the old occupants of the apartment.

Once your dad seemed satisfied with his tour, the two of you walked down to the nearest subway stop. In the underground station, you passed those golden arches.

"Dad, can we get McDonald's," you asked.

"Are you sure, Button, we can get much better food back a the tower"

"Yeah, we haven't had it in forever, and I need to feed my inner Chicken nugget," you joked.

He must have been in an excellent mood because he gave in to the lure of the golden arches. He also seemed like he really wanted a burger because he got his usual order, Two big macs, a large fry, and an M&M McFlurry. The super-soldier serum had granted him the ability and need to eat loads of food. You also figured that he wanted a break from Pepper's food because she had decided that the entire team needed to become more healthy conscience. It wasn't that anyone hated her food; it was just somewhat bland. And besides, who wants couscous when you can have Micky D's.

After Bucky had wolfed down his food, and you had savored each bite of Chicken Nugget, you got on the train back home. You could feel yourself grow tired as your body finally rested from an exciting and full day. Your head drooped down and rested on your father's shoulder.

"Hey, button, let's watch a movie in the tower."

He picked out a classic, The Wizard of Oz, and made popcorn. You barely made it to the tornado before your eyes finally gave up. You were so tired that you didn't feel your dad pick you up and start carrying you to your bed.

Your eyes fluttered open as you heard 'If only I had a heart' playing from the TV.

"Hey, Button," your dad's voice whispered, "You fell asleep. I didn't want you to wake up on the sofa, so I'm taking you to your bed."

He laid you down and pulled up the blankets. With a kiss on your forehead, turned to leave.

"Dad, I love you," you called out.

"I love you too, Button" On that note, he turned out your light and closed your door

#bucky x y/n #bucky x daughter!reader #bucky fluff #domestic bucky #fic request #steve x you #sam x you #marvel #avengers #avengers x young reader

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tlbodine · 4 years ago

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Thanksgiving is Gonna Be Weird: A Survival Guide for 2020

It’s 2020, the pandemic is worse than ever, and the holidays are right around the corner. No matter what, this is going to be a weird Thanksgiving for a lot of people. With travel restrictions in place and most of us having a mighty desire not to murder our friends and family by spreading around a disease, there’s a good chance that you’re going to be celebrating a bit differently this year.

And, hey, maybe you decide not to celebrate at all. Which is perfectly valid!

But maybe you’re staring down the possibility of your first Thanksgiving on your own, or feeding just the small group you live for rather than a big crowd, or some other unusual circumstance. And if that’s the case, I wanted to compile together some resources/ideas to help you out. I know this isn’t my usual horror fare, but...well, I hope it’s helpful, regardless.

“Help, I’ve Never Made Thanksgiving Dinner Before” Starter Kit

Maybe you’ve always gone home for the holidays but are currently stuck in an apartment with a few roommates, and none of you have any intensive cooking skills. Maybe you always take the kids to Grandma’s house and have never had to contribute more than a side dish but now really want to do a proper Thanksgiving feast for your partner(s), kid(s) and whoever else lives in your house.

Never fear! A Thanksgiving feast doesn’t have to be intimidating! In fact, Thanksgiving foods are usually pretty simple; the most challenging part of the whole feast is the project management aspect of working with a lot of different dishes and getting everything ready at once. But the smaller your crowd to feed, the easier that is!

So, the first thing you’ll want to do is come up with a menu. Sit down and write a list of all the foods you normally eat and enjoy on Thanksgiving. If something is served at your family meal that you’ve never cared for, guess what? You can boot that bad boy right off the list!

By and large, the standard Thanksgiving feast consists of:

Roast turkey

Mashed potatoes

Gravy

Some kind of dinner roll

Cranberry sauce

Some number of vegetable side dishes (often a green been casserole and a sweet potato casserole)

Some kind of dessert (often/traditionally a pumpkin pie)

I’ve linked above some easy & favorite techniques/recipes for all of these foods, but of course you can buy time-saving convenience items to get you rolling -- from potato flakes to gravy mix to premade pie. I won’t tell if you don’t.

If there’s something you’re used to eating every year that you don’t know how to make....call whoever usually makes it! If at all possible, obviously, I’m not recommending you do a seance to talk to your dead great-aunt and get her rolls recipe. Just, like...phone up your friend/family member, get the recipe, and use it as an opportunity to connect. Odds are both of you are missing the human interaction.

“Hey, That’s Nice, But I Live in a Dorm Room” Edition

Okay, okay, I get it. You’re away at college and can’t get home to see your family safely and you’re living in some kind of weird socially isolated dorm situation where you have limited access to cooking implements. Or, shit, idk, maybe you’re couch-surfing or living in a motel or otherwise not in possession of a full kitchen.

I got you, fam.

Do you have at your disposal a microwave? Rice cooker? Even an electric kettle will work!

If you have some way to boil water, you can make instant mashed potatoes, gravy, and stove-top stuffing. If you have a microwave, you can steam some vegetables and bake a sweet potato. For dessert, core an apple, stuff the cavity with brown sugar + cinnamon + butter and nuke in the microwave for 4 minutes.

It’s hypothetically possible to microwave a turkey, but I wouldn’t recommend it. Instead, I’d opt to buy a deli roast chicken (about $5 at most grocery stores), or even just some turkey deli meat. Alternatively, ham usually just needs to be warmed rather than cooked, and you can buy a big ol’ ham steak at the store for a couple of bucks.

“I’m Dead Broke Because COVID, Send Help”

You know the great thing about Thanksgiving food? It’s cheap. No, really! It can be, anyway, especially since a lot of foods go on sale.

In my area anyway, the local Wal-Mart and Smith’s Grocery have:

A can of green beans for about 79 cents

A bag of instant mashed potatoes for about $1

A big can of yams for about $1, or fresh yams for 50 cents/lb (usually a couple sweet potatoes = 1lb)

Canned corn or peas + corn for 50 cents, or steam-in-bag veggies of your choice for $1

Stovetop stuffing for $1 or sometimes even 50 cents per box

Margarine for 79 cents to $1

Gravy mix packets for 50 cents each

A can of cranberry sauce for $1 or less

Most of these are also available at Dollar Tree!

A lot of food banks will also be giving out turkeys this time of year, and some grocery stores will give you a free turkey if you spend $50 or $100 on groceries or whatever. Do you have an older relative who needs groceries? Ask if you can go buy their food and deliver it to their door (contactless!) and keep the free turkey.

You can pretty easily feed a group of 4-6 for $20 or so, especially if you’re willing to be flexible on your protein. And what are you doing feeding more than 6 people in the middle of a pandemic, huh?

“I’m Used to Hosting a Big Dinner But There’s Only Like Three Of Us Living In This House WTF How Do I Scale This Shit Down”

Maybe you are a Thanksgiving veteran. Maybe you’re accustomed to hosting for a big crowd and cooking a small meal just seems dumb and pointless. I feel you. This is my life right now! But don’t despair!

The way I see it, you’ve got a couple-three options:

Option One:

Cook your turkey + a different side each day, and eat your Thanksgiving feast spread out over a week or so. It’ll keep your leftovers from dominating your fridge, let you eat something fresh, and allow you to enjoy all your favorite recipes. Downside is you’ll have to cook every day, so you tell me if you’re too busy to do that.

Option Two:

Cook everything that you normally would, but portion off half of it or whatever to stuff into your freezer, or go deliver it to somebody else’s door. The odds are pretty good that you’ve got a friend or family member who is freaking out about the holiday, and if you can’t see them in person, you can at least drop food off on their porch and then honk aggressively/cheerfully from the safety of your car!

Option Three:

Make something different this year. If you’re a foodie, take this as an opportunity to challenge yourself to create something high-maintenance and weird that you wouldn’t normally make. This is a good choice if you’re off work and stuck in your house with nothing else to do. Basically you’re subbing out quantity for quality so the meal still feels special and unique even if it’s, y’know....just you and your cat, or whoever.

PS: Roasting a whole chicken or a cornish game hen is a fun, small-scale way to get your bird-in-the-oven experience. You can also buy a turkey breast and just cook that, which will be a lot faster than the whole bird anyway.

"I’m An Essential Worker And I’m Working Thanksgiving And Have No Time To Do ANYTHING, What Now?”

Dude, I get it. And whether you’re a doctor, nurse, grocery store employee, or whatever other essential service-worker, my heart goes out to you because hoo boy this year has been shit, hasn’t it? I can’t do anything about the hazard pay situation, but I CAN tell you that there are a few places offering delivery-based Thanksgiving meal options!

You might want to search around a bit for your specific area. Cracker Barrel, Marie Callendar’s, Boston Market, and other types of branded “home-cooking” type restaurants tend to have some kind of Thanksgiving thing. Why not call your local restaurant fav to see if they’re doing something similar? Most restaurants are desperate for a way to stay afloat right now, so a ton of places that don’t traditionally deliver are offering curbside service now. It’s worth a try!

So, there you have it.

I hope some of these tips taught you something new, pointed you to a helpful resource, or gave you some ideas. More than anything, I just want everybody to be safe and happy this holiday. So, please -- get creative, wear your mask while you’re shopping, avoid the get-togethers, and be careful. You may save a life!

#holidays #thanksgiving #covid 19 #PSA #cooking #food #tips #I hope this helps someone #please reblog if I missed anything #long post

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splendidlyimperfect · 4 years ago

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When Gray wakes up one night with a voice in his head, the last thing he expects is to suddenly be sharing a body with a demon. Natsu is nothing like Gray expected, though. He's surprisingly charming, and more concerned about getting Gray to eat vegetables than he is with taking over the world. Since Gray can't push him away like he does with everyone else, he begrudgingly accepts Natsu's place in his life - for now. But when Natsu ends up needing Gray's help, what started out as an inconvenience turns into a road trip - and a friendship - that changes Gray's life.

written for @fuckyeahgratsu gratsu weekend 2021 event

day 3 (super late but still!); prompt: consume

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 Fandom: Fairy Tail Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Natsu Dragneel/Gray Fullbuster Characters: Gray Fullbuster, Natsu Dragneel, Lyon Vastia, Mard Geer Tartarus Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Humor, Adventure, Demonic Possession, but the good kind, demon Natsu, References to Depression, Depressed Gray, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Sort Of, Road Trips, Falling In Love, Natsu's not an evil demon, he really just wants to take care of Gray, Gray sucks at feelings

-----

“Let me get this straight.” Lyon stared at Gray from where he stood in the kitchen, wearing nothing but a t-shirt and boxers. “You want me to help you find a demon, then exorcise that demon so that the other demon inside of you – that I apparently summoned while drunk – can get back into his body.”

“He’s not very bright, is he?” Natsu said. “I told you he was a shitty warlock.”

Gray snorted and Lyon raised an eyebrow. “He says you’re a shitty warlock,” Gray explained. “And yes, that’s exactly what I need you to do. Can you help me or not?”

Lyon stared at Gray, then moved closer until they were nearly nose-to-nose and peered into his eyes. “I don’t believe you,” he said eventually.

“Why the hell would I lie about this?”

“’cause you probably just took something you shouldn’t have last night and you’re still hallucinating.”

Continue reading on AO3

Gray groaned in exasperation. “You’re the one who did the goddamn spell!” Then he glared at Lyon, adding, “Why did you do it, anyway?”

“Ex,” Natsu reminded him. Gray’s eyes flicked up to his blurry reflection in the microwave. Natsu’s image was standing directly behind him, so close he almost had his chin on Gray’s shoulder. The look in his eyes was somewhere between disgust and amusement.

“You were pissed at Loke, weren’t you?” Gray asked. Lyon’s scowl gave him the confirmation he was looking for. “You seriously tried to summon a demon to… what, beat up your ex?”

“I wasn’t trying to summon a demon!” Lyon said, holding up his hands in surrender. “It was just some stupid spell from one of those forums online. It didn’t do anything.”

“Except it did.” Gray gestured vaguely to where Natsu’s reflection was behind him. “And now your stupidity is my problem.”

Lyon shook his head. “Demons aren’t even real,” he insisted. “Seriously, did you try the cookies from the top shelf of the pantry? ‘cause I’m pretty sure—”

“I’m not fucking high!” Gray snapped. He rubbed his temples where his headache was still lingering. “I’m not high,” he said again quietly. “I just want to fix this.” He looked back at Natsu’s reflection in the microwave. “Can you show him? Prove that I’m not crazy?”

Natsu hummed uncertainly, not meeting Gray’s gaze. “Yes,” he said. “But you’re not gonna like it.” Gray’s heart sunk. “I’d need to… take over,” Natsu said. “Everything. Just for a second.”

“You want me to let you��” Gray trailed off and pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. All the conflicting emotions running through him – his and Natsu’s – were compounded by the heavy sense of fear that grew in his stomach.

“We can figure out something else,” Natsu said quickly. “Maybe I can—”

“It’s fine.” Gray forced the words out as he opened his eyes and looked back at Lyon’s puzzled face. “Just…” Lyon looked like he might say something, but Gray shook his head, holding up a hand. “Shut up and give me a second.”

He let out the tight breath in his chest, trying to relax the tension in his shoulders.

“I promise it’ll just be for a second,” Natsu said. He sounded regretful. “It’ll feel weird – like when I was petting the cat – but I won’t do anything scary. Well, it’ll be a bit scary for Lyon, but I’m not going to hurt you.”

Gray hesitated. Natsu had only been in his mind for less than a day, but something in Gray’s gut said that he could trust him, even if he was a demon.

“Okay, just make it quick.”

“What are you—”

Lyon’s words faded away as Gray exhaled, closing his eyes, and letting Natsu’s presence overwhelm his mind. It felt warm, like he was sitting next to a campfire and watching sparks flicker up into the sky. The tingling sensation that had filled him earlier came back in full force, leaving him feeling like his hands and feet had both fallen asleep.

When he opened his eyes again, everything looked red.

“Esaeun xnae ya qnuy.” The voice was his, but not his, rough and layered with words that felt too big and wrong for his mouth. They were unfamiliar, but somehow Gray could understand them – he’s telling the truth.

Lyon stared at Gray, eyes wide with terror. “Your eyes are glowing,” he managed.

“Yes. I’m a demon. They do that.” Natsu spoke in the same infernal language, but he sounded more irritated than angry. “I also have sharp claws and could rip your heart out if I felt like it, but I just ate a cinnamon bun and I’m in a forgiving mood. Now do the damn locator spell.”

As quickly as it had taken him over, the warmth and tingling in Gray’s body disappeared, and his vision quickly returned to normal. Lyon was still standing in front of him, but the expression of disbelief was gone, and now he just looked stunned.

“You okay?” Natsu asked in his own voice in the back of Gray’s mind.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Gray reassured him. “Are you convinced now?” he asked Lyon, who nodded slowly. “Good. Now get your shit together and help me figure this out.”

Natsu’s body was in the middle of nowhere.

“Well then,” Lyon said. He and Gray sat cross-legged on the floor of his bedroom and stared at the map where the black mark had settled – a little ways away from a tiny town called Belle Creek in the middle of the Rocky Mountains.

“It says only 26 people live there,” Gray said, looking at the information on his phone. “What the hell is a demon doing out in the mountains?”

“I thought he’d be somewhere big,” Natsu said. “A city, or something. Y’know, causing destruction and mayhem. Killing people. Demon stuff.”

“Maybe he’s retired,” Lyon said. Gray rolled his eyes.

“I don’t think demons retire.”

“Well, what else would he be doing in the middle of the mountains?”

“Hiding bodies?” Natsu suggested.

Gray sighed and rubbed his temples before looking back down at his phone. He flipped over to the maps and typed in ‘Belle Creek.’

“It’s ‘close,’ huh?” he said to Natsu, raising his eyebrow at the distance – nearly 45o0 kilometers. “That’s at least a three-day drive.”

“At least I got the right country!” Natsu insisted. “Three days isn’t a long time. Not when you’ve been around for almost two hundred years.”

“Well, I’ve only been around for twenty-six years,” Gray said. He looked up at Lyon, who was still staring at him with a baffled expression. “I need to borrow your car.”

“You… what?”

“Your car.” Gray shoved his phone back in his pocket and tapped the map. “I’m not taking the bus to the middle of fucking nowhere. And this is your fault, so I’m taking your car.”

“You can’t just…” Lyon looked down at the map, then back up at Gray. “What’s your plan? You’re just gonna drive out to this place and, what? Ask if anyone’s seen a demon in human skin? You don’t even know what he looks like.”

“Yes, I do.” Gray pointed to his reflection in the bedroom mirror where he could see Natsu, sitting next to him on the floor. Natsu stuck his tongue out at Gray, who rolled his eyes. “I can see him. He’ll be easy to find. Now, show me how to do an… exorcism, or whatever.”

“Or whatever?” Lyon made a sound of exasperation. “You can’t just—you have no idea what you’re doing. You don’t even have any magic! How are you gonna…”

“I’ll help,” Natsu said as Lyon continued to rant. He picked at his nails. “With the magic, I mean. I’d have to take over again, just for a little, but I could help, if you wanted. Unless you wanna bring him with you—” he gestured at Lyon “—but I doubt he’d be much help.”

Gray snorted. “I’m not spending six days in a car with this asshole,” he said, gesturing at Lyon, who stopped mid-rant and glared at him. “Just show me the spells,” Gray said. “Natsu can help me figure out the rest.”

An hour and a half later they were both back in the kitchen and Gray was shoving a handful of books and old parchments into his bag. Lyon leaned on the counter and gave Gray a serious look.

“Are you sure about this?” He hesitated, then added, “I know you haven’t been… great, not since she—”

“Shut up,” Gray said quickly, gritting his teeth. “I’ve told you a hundred times that I’m fine.” He could feel Natsu’s uncertainty as he turned away from Lyon and snatched his car keys from the hook on the wall, then grabbed the front door handle and swung it open with more force than necessary.

“Gray, I—”

“I can handle this.” Gray interrupted Lyon’s concerned words. He turned around in the doorway, doing his best to give Lyon a reassuring look. “I’ll be back in a week.”

Gray stood in the doorway to his bedroom, feeling the familiar sense of frustration and defeat as he stared at the piles of dirty clothes and dresser covered in empty coffee cups. He sighed, making his way to the closet, and searching for his duffle bag.

“What’s wrong?” Natsu asked. He’d been quiet the whole drive home, leaving Gray alone with his thoughts.

Gray shook his head. “Nothing. I just have to pack.” He gestured vaguely to the clothes.

“You’re sad again.”

“I’m not sad,” Gray snapped. “I’m…” He rubbed a hand over his face. “I’m just tired.”

“But it feels like sad,” Natsu said, sounding genuinely puzzled. Before Gray could get mad at him, he quickly added, “I’m not spying! I promise, you’re just – when your feelings are really strong, it’s hard for me to not feel them too. And I feel sad, not tired. It’s weird.”

Gray groaned, tossing the duffle bag on the bed, and rummaging through one of the piles until he found a few mostly clean shirts. As he started to pack up his toothbrush and razor, he gave in.

“My life has kinda sucked lately,” he said. He looked up into the mirror, where Natsu was meeting his gaze and listening intently. “A lot of shitty stuff happened where I used to live, and sometimes it makes me… tired. Of everything.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” Gray shoved the toiletries bag into his duffle, then looked around the messy room. “It’s over and I live here now. I’m just trying to figure shit out and I don’t wanna think about any of that stuff. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Natsu was quiet as Gray headed to the front door and started to put on his shoes. Happy, who had been sleeping on the couch, stretched out and meandered over to them.

“Lyon’s gonna take care of you for a bit,” Gray said to Happy as he meowed and rubbed himself against Gray’s leg. “Feel free to bite him.”

Natsu laughed. “Can we pet him again?” he asked. “If not, that’s okay, I just—”

“Sure.” Gray ran his fingers over Happy’s head and scratched behind his ears. He registered Natsu’s surprise, then excitement, and then his arm started to tingle again. Now that he was expecting it, it wasn’t as strange. A warm sensation spread through him as he stroked Happy’s fur.

“You’re happy,” he murmured as he watched his hand with a strange detachment. Apparently feeling emotions went both ways. It was strange – the sensation of contentedness was familiar but alien at the same time.

“I love cats,” Natsu said, scratching Happy under the chin before dissolving his control over Gray’s arm. Gray stood up, looking over at Natsu’s excited expression in the mirror before shrugging on his coat.

“You ready?” he said as he shouldered the duffel bag. He spun Lyon’s keys around his fingers and let some of Natsu’s excitement take over as they headed out the door. “Let’s go get your body back.”

#fairy tail #gratsu #gratsuweekend2021 #gray fullbuster #natsu dragneel #fairy tail fanfiction #ft fanfic #update #new chapter #my fic #highway to hell

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creepy-bi-day · 4 years ago

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Rainy Days

My first ever commission!!

@poweranon here’s your Cody fluff!

Warnings: thunderstorms, cursing, mind rotting fluff

The sound of rain is what woke you up first.

Heavy, rhythmic beating on the window beside your bed made your eyes flutter open. You felt the familiar weight of Cody’s arm around your waist, and the steady breathing against your neck. A smile worked its way onto your face as you gently traced along the inked designs on his arm.

Shifting back into his embrace, you couldn’t help the jolt of surprise at the loud crack of thunder that echoed through the room, causing Cody to suck in a breath before jolting awake.

“Shit, what I miss,” he muttered groggily, moving to slide an arm under your head, tightening the other arm around your waist. “You look fucking cute as shit in my clothes, alma.”

Your face heated before another crash of the clouds made a startled cry tear its way from your throat. Rolling over, you pressed yourself into the warm torso of your beloved, hearing him grunt in surprise before tightening his arms around you. One hand tangled into your hair and the other secured around your middle.

“Hey, hey,” he cooed, voice still thick with sleep. “Calm down, mami. I’m here, okay? Won’t let the big bad thunder hurt’cha.”

You snorted out a laugh, nuzzling closer into his warmth. The feeling of his arms sent a sense of comfort and warmth into your chest, making your heart flutter with adoration. Despite being afraid of the storm outside, you couldn’t help but feel safe laying in his arms.

A sharp pang of hunger ran through your stomach as you felt your face heat once again, clearing your throat and looking up at Cody’s amused face.

“Want me to cook for you, amor?” He cooed, standing as he stretched his arms above his head, caramel skin pulled taught against the toned muscle. “Cause I can-“

“You burnt chicken nuggets in the microwave last week, Cody,” you deadpanned. “The microwave. I’ll cook.”

You stood up, the black band shirt you wore hanging to midthigh. Stretching your arms high, you let out a soft groan at the popping feeling that made its way down your spine.

“Now you’re just trying to get fucked,” Cody said lowly, moving behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. “Pretty face, pretty noises, hmm?”

A soft laugh escaped your lips, cut off by a jolt when a flash lit the room. You pressed back against his warmth again, feeling dread ebb through your being.

“Mierda,” he hissed, tightening his grip around you and burying his face in your neck. “Forgot this shit scared you.”

You placed your hand over his forearm, closing your eyes as you leaned closer to him. His warmth was a comfort thing at this point. Something to keep you grounded when you needed it most.

“Let’s go get you distracted, yeah?” He muttered, glancing up at you through his raven locks, small smile tugging his lips. “I’ll get the blankets and we can make a fort,” he paused, pursing his lips. “I’ll make the fort, since apparently I’m not allowed to cook.”

A giggle left your lips as you pried his arms off your body, walking toward the door to make your way to the kitchen.

Bare feet padding along the floor, you made your way to the kitchen of the small apartment, peeking out the almost miniature window above the sink. It was pouring at this point, causing a soft hum to escape your lips.

“Does this mean the drought is over?” Cody’s voice echoed out from the doorway. You spun to face him, rolling your eyes at his attire; or rather, lack thereof.

He was still only dressed in his dinosaur boxers, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed.

“No, dumbass,” you responded, opening the fridge and grabbing a carton of eggs. “This is just a storm.”

You jolted at another flash of light that blinded you from your place by the window. Almost dropping the eggs, you couldn’t help but yelp when Cody reached around you to take the carton from your shaking hands.

“Why don’t we just order some food instead, mami,” he cooed, placing the blue container on the counter. He tugged you close and leaned his head against yours. “I’ll call up some pizza.”

“Pizza for breakfast?” You mused, closing your eyes and leaning into his embrace. “That’s not very traditional, now, is it?”

An amused snort left his throat as secured his arms around your waist, pulling you up close to him as he lifted you into his arms. A soft grunt escaped him as you wrapped your legs around his narrow waist, shooting you a playful glare.

“Keep that up and we may not even wait for the pizza,” he muttered as he walked the two of you to the couch. Setting you down gently, he looked over you as he chewed his lip. “Stay here, alright? I’m gonna go run and grab the phone.”

With that, he disappeared into the hallway. In his absence, you decided to turn the TV on to try and distract yourself from the raging storm outside. The ads on screen barely did their job of keeping your mind off the storm until the sound of footsteps padded up behind you. You jumped slightly as a black hoodie was dropped on your form.

You glanced up, seeing that your favorite person had decided to put a shirt on as he held a small black phone to his ear. You slipped the jacket on as he ordered your food, reveling in the warmth and cinnamon and apple scent that reminded you of your boyfriend.

Placing a hand on the back of the couch, he leapt onto the seat, grinning as you both bounced at the sudden movement. He tossed his cell on the floor to tug you close and wrap your now bundled form into his arms.

“Whatcha watchin’ there, cutie?” He asked, leaning against the arm of the couch as he tugged you closer. His legs were spread around your form, and you laid up against his back from between his legs. You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips as he held you close to him. You became increasingly aware of the cheesy movie that had been playing on screen.

“Not sure, but it looks like a romcom,” you said sheepishly, causing him to chuckle. Cody leaned his head on your shoulder, humming softly as he watched the screen.

You didn’t even realize you dozed off until the sound of the doorbell jolted you awake.

Gently pushing you off him, Cody stood, cracking his neck and walking towards the door.

You noticed the grin he flashed the delivery boy before walking back toward you with the familiar white box in hand. He set it on the table and took his place back at your side.

“Just one?” You mused, flipping the box open. “You can eat this by yourself.”

“Yeah, right,” he snorted, grabbing a slice and taking a bite. “You calling me fat, Chiquita?”

“Only if you deny it, cabrón,” you said cockily, using one of the phrases you had heard more often. Cody couldn’t help the burst of laughter at that, choking on his slice as he pounded a fist against his chest.

“Jesus Christ, (y/n),” he said, catching his breath. “Warn me next time before you try to cuss me out.”

You snickered, taking a slice yourself.

Even with the slightly terrifying thunderstorm raging outside, you wouldn’t change this day for anything.

Moments like this were what you lived for.

#cody rogers #cody cult #commission #cute cute #fluff #sfw

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blissfulparker · 5 years ago

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12 days of Christmas Day.1

Parings→ tom holland x reader

Summary→ tom plans on proposing to you on Christmas, although when toms been gone for months and left you with Harrison who started to let his feelings for you come back, 12 days of Christmas quickly becomes 12 days of tension

Warnings→ jealousy, fluff, Christmas fluff.

A/n→ this is my holiday au that I was talking about! I hope you guys enjoy and my plan so far is to post everyday of the 12 days December. There is no read more sign because I’m on Mobil and don’t know how to add it but next time I will have one for sure!💕

Warm cinnamon rolls pulled out of the oven as fire wood burned in the fireplace for the first time this season.

You were snowed in, officially snowed in. Most people would complain about the event of it snowing so bad that they can’t go to work or leave the house but you loved it. It was a perfect excuse to not leave the house and made for a day of baking and christmas movies. Harrison was laying on the couch, Tom was supposed to be home soon, everything was perfect for this season. The tree was lit up and each boy had a stocking, even Tessa had her own. You went all out this holiday season and couldn’t wait for the day that made it all worth it.

“Harrison!” You call out and he looks up from the living room couch. “I need your help with the frosting.” Your apron is messy with the flour from the homemade rolls, it was now time to put on the frosting you had chilling in the fridge.

Tom being gone for filming meant that Harrison was here with you. The whole month was Harrison and you bonding and getting closer. At first tom really didn’t care, Harrison had a girl in mind and he knew it wasn’t you. Then Harrison lost that opportunity with the girl and then it was just you. You and him. You and him staying up late doing dishes together, watching movies, taking care of one another when sick, rides to work, everything and anything you needed, you two had given to each other. It was only natural for Harrison to develop feelings, you were gorgeous, beautiful personality, cared about him, and so it was no surprise when he started to feel a little more special.

“Can you do the tray on the right, add as much as you want. These ones are mostly for Tom and he doesn’t like that much frosting.” You smiled and Harrison nodded.

Harrison watched how excited you were, how happy you were about this season and how in 11 days from now you’d be mrs. Holland. If you said yes of course, why would you not? It broke Harrison’s heart a little when Tom told him he’d be proposing to you, that it was officially set in stone that he’d get the ring and pop the question on christmas morning over by the tree you spent a day picking and hours decorating.

“So I was thinking something simple but breathtaking you know? Maybe like a ruby because they’re red and we met around christmas time?” Tom talked to his best friend and brothers in the beginning of November about this act.

“That sounds perfect!” Harry patted Tom's shoulder. Tom couldn’t wipe the smile off his face as he thought about it.

“And then I’d propose on Christmas because it’s her favorite holiday and of course our anniversary is two days before Christmas. But like I’d do it on Christmas because that’s normally when we celebrate our anniversary.” He takes a swig of his beer and can’t help the excitement and nerves running through his body.

“She’ll love it mate, I mean she loves you so much and she has so much holiday spirit I mean I know she’ll love it.” Sam encourages and Harrison stays somewhat quiet. He’s happy for his best friend, he’s extremely happy. But the two of you having a wedding would confirm your relationship and love.

“Yeah that’s great mate. I know she’ll love it.” He smiles and pats toms chest.

“You wanna watch Rudolph the rednosed reindeer? I think it’s on.” He offers and you nod with a smile.

“Yeah of course.” You give a soft smile and hit his shoulder playfully because why wouldn’t you want to watch it.

“I don’t know why I even asked, it’s one of your favorites.” He laughs before grabbing the remote.

“You know, I never understood why Tom doesn’t like frosty the snowman. I mean it’s one of the classics and I just love it. I mean he’ll watch it but like...I don’t know.” You shrug and Harrison comes back into the kitchen to frost his side of the cinnamon rolls. You made 36 in total, 12 for you guys and 24 for the Christmas dinner party you were having when Tom got home.

“I love frosty the snowman.” He states with a sleepy smile.

“Maybe that will be our movie.” You tease nudging his shoulder. He looks down at you and how cute you were. He wanted to kiss you, feel just how soft your lips were. but you were Toms, his best friend since primary schools girlfriend.

“What?” You look up and catch him staring. You notice the small amount of flour in his eyebrow and push it out for him. He closes his crystal blue eyes before and takes in the feeling of your hand. “There was flour in your eyebrow, somehow. You didn’t even help.” You chuckle a little and he wraps his arm around your waist.

He doesn’t say anything, his left arm around your waist and his right was holding the stupid spoon used for frosting so tight that his knuckles were white.

“Harrison?” You look at him up and down. His breath was caught in his throat and his heart was pounding.

“Tom wouldn’t have to know.” Was all he said as his grip got somewhat looser.

“Harrison—“ you start again and he feels his body heating up.

“(Y/n), we’ve been in this house together for the whole month of November and half of December. You can’t deny that there’s some sort of tension and feeling between us. We cuddle and watch Christmas movies. Take care of each other. Y-You can’t lie to me and tell me you don’t feel anything.” He looks down at your lips and you shake your head.

“H-Harrison, I love Tom. I-I always have.” You step back and he knows, he knows he’s a dickhead for doing this and he knows this makes him the worst friend in the world but he needed to tell you. It would be worse if he told you before your wedding or before anything big.

“(Y/n), I’m sorry I know I shouldn’t do this and I know I should just push aside my feelings and get over it but I-I can’t.” He says and you drop your spoon and wipe your dirty hand on your apron.

“I can’t kiss you haz. I can’t. I can’t have feelings for you. I don’t have feelings for you. It was fun being here with you because you’re like a best friend. You are one of my best friends and I’m lucky to have you but Harrison, I’m in love with tom, I always have been. You’re my best friend and he’s something else I can’t explain. He’s my boyfriend and I love him. We’ve been together for three years and I’ve loved all of those three years. And you, you’re an amazing best friend I can always rely on.” You sniffle and he nods setting down his spoon not even caring about stupid cinnamon rolls anymore.

“I know, I’m sorry. I respect tom and I respect you. It’s just theses months got a little out of hand. I’m sorry.” He wipes his fingers on the kitchen towel.

“I know, I know. I understand that maybe you saw this as a chance but I just—I can’t do that to tom.” You say and he nods. You look over at the half frosted cinnamon rolls for Tom. You smile at them softly because too much frosting is too sweet, but extra cinnamon is the best.

“Wow, would you look at that?” You look over at the microwave time and Harrison does too. “Tom should be off work by now. I’m gonna call him and say goodnight before he falls asleep. He should be up packing anyways.” You wipe your nose before leaving the kitchen.

“I’ll clean up.” Harrison said as he grabbed the bowls and started placing them into the sink. He tried to distract himself with the warm water that hit his skin.

You flopped onto your bed and let out a sigh. Harrison wanted to kiss you. Harrison thought about you this way for months. He had feelings for you and no one knew. You’d been here with Haz without Tom and he fell for you yet you still somewhat feel guilty for the way you acted. It was somewhat a flirty personality, you’d cuddle sometimes and he’d massage your back some days just like you did his but never did you think it was him falling in love with you.

Your phone rang loudly Abrupting your thoughts and worries. A picture of tom appears on your phone and his name with two hearts.

You don’t hesitate to answer, you slide the FaceTime answer button and see his beautiful face.

“Hey princess!” He’s bundled up in a beanie and snow coat. His lips are slightly chapped and his eyes beg for sleep.

“Hi bubs!” You know harrison can hear and you hate that.

“How’s my girl doing?” He asks and props his phone up on a mug he’s found and starts to take off his coat.

“She’s doing good. I just got done making cinnamon rolls. It was a snowy day in London and so we didn’t go out.” You smile and he comes and sits down at the chair.

“Oh, Haz is still Home? Let me say hi.” He sits back and you look over at your door. It’s best he doesn’t see him right now, not after that state.

“He’s sick, terrible fever. He’s taking a nap right now so he probably won’t be up any time soon.” You smile and he pouts.

“Awe, tell him I hope he gets better. Anyways, you made your famous cinnamon rolls?” He asks quirks an eye brow.

“Every year, you know that.” You smile softly and he moans at the thought of your cooking.

“I can’t wait to be home, your cinnamon rolls sound so good. I can’t wait to be in your arms.” He smiles and folds his arms pretty much flexing his muscles.

“Neither can I.” You blow him a kiss and he blushes.

“Mmh, it’s late isn’t it sweets?” He sees your yawns and you nod looking over at your alarm clock seeing the time. It is late, you’d be surprised if Harrison was still awake cleaning up.

“It’s only 10:30.” You shrug and he sees the sleep in your face.

“Take a shower, or bath, and then go to bed. I’ll be home before you even know it.” He smiles and you blow him one last kiss.

“Love you, have fun for your last day of filming. Not too much fun.” You wink and he lets out a soft chuckle.

“You know I won’t go crazy.” He says before clearing his throat. Harry walks in without even knocking and tom turns back. Harry says something, most likely that they’re going to a pub. “Alright, love you baby. I’ll see you soon!” He smiles and you do too.

“Love you too lovebug.” You kiss one more time.

“Alright bye bye.” The phone goes back to your home screen.

You stare at the picture of you and tom at the airport before he left. The picture was Tom hugging you tight and giving you a kiss on the cheek. He told you that picture was just to remind you that he’d be home before you knew it. The second picture of your lock screen was of everyone and your vacation from Hawaii over the summer, you, Tom, Harry, Sam, Haz, and even paddy was there. All in wetsuits ready for the waves. Your heart pounds as both Tom and Harrison’s arms are around you. You feel your heart beating and you quickly go to settings and change the lock screen to a picture of you and tom again, this time it was a picture of last Christmas where you caught tom playing tug of war with Tessa near the tree. That was the perfect memory. One that made that Christmas perfect.

You thought about calling back tom and telling him about today, you thought about checking Harry’s Instagram story or one of the set mates snapchats to see what they were doing. But you didn’t, you needed to sleep. The day was fine, your Christmas was going to be fine. Everything was going to be fine. Tom came home tomorrow, you two will have a party that same day, and then there will be ten days til Christmas after that.

Everyone and everything was going to be fine, this was your holiday season, this was toms holiday season, hell, this was everyone’s holiday season. No one should be upset this time of year and you were gonna keep it this way.

Please leave feedback it helps me out and let’s me know if you want another part!

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deafeningnightcollection-things · 3 years ago

Text

Hidden Lives ~ Winn Schott

Chapter 2 - Unusual Meetings

Lily was awake before Alex. Stretching, she hopped off the couch and folded the extra blanket she'd been using. She moved into the kitchen to get coffee. Alex kept a large jar of it in the fridge for sake of their impromptu sleepovers. It wasn't as good as a fresh brew, but her coffee addiction didn't care about flavor this early in the morning. As Lily was putting a mug in the microwave, Alex wandered in.

"Morning, Doc." Lily had called her that once and no matter how many times Alex grumbled about it making her sound old. The name just stuck, and it wasn't uncommon to hear it thrown around by other agents as well. Though Alex got much snippier with them than with Lily.

Alex nodded as she passed. Most people wouldn't talk before their morning caffeine, but Alex refused to speak to anyone until after her morning cinnamon roll. If coffee was Lily's addiction than sugar was probably Alex's.

Ten minutes later they sat at the small breakfast table. Alex enjoying her cinnamon roll alongside a rather disgusting looking vitamin drink, and Lily washing down her steaming coffee with a stolen piece of Alex's cinnamon roll. They just sat there, munching and drinking, enjoying a quiet few minutes before they had to get ready for work.

"You really shouldn't drink that much coffee when we have training." Alex's teasing tone broke the quiet spell.

"That's today?"

Alex nodded. Lily groaned dropping her head onto the coffee table.

"We already have to train every day, why do they make us do weekly sparring too?" She indicated her recently dislodged shoulder, "I've got enough bruises to chart the Milky Way."

"Sucks for you."

At Lily's questioning gaze, Alex elaborated. "I've got a doctor's note."

"Not fair. You used to bang him, he's biased."

Alex's cheeks turned pink. "That is not...he owes me a favor," Alex spluttered trying to regain her composure.

Lily raised an eyebrow, "oh, is that what the kids are calling it these days?"

"Shut up," Alex shoved her playfully. "Besides I'm going to use the free time to try to get through to Kara."

That soured the mood immediately. The gnawing guilt that has been forgotten for the nice breakfast was coming back in full force.

"I hope it works. Though if she really is as stubborn as you, you've got a real fight ahead of you." Lily tried to insert levity into her words to lighten the mood once more, but it came out a little hollow. Alex looked at her oddly, clearly taken aback by the unusual tone in her voice.

She quickly changed the subject, glancing at her watch, "I've got to run an errand for Hank. And you know he won't even take that as an excuse for tardiness." They laughed.

"Oh, that reminds me," Alex called as Lily moved into the kitchen, washing out her thermos and putting the new day's coffee in it. "What did Hank want the other day? I didn't see you for the rest of the day and then it completely slipped my mind."

She searched around for a reasonable excuse before the lie just fell out. "He was just annoyed that I wasn't at my desk. You know how he gets sometimes."

Hank's fits of strictness were not lost on his employees. Most of the time he was a reasonably tempered man, but occasionally he would just get ticked off by the smallest thing.

"I hope I didn't get you into too much trouble," Alex said worriedly, ready to rise to her friend's defense.

Lily waved her off, worried by how easy it was to lie to Alex. She didn't want to do it, it reminded her too much of Lex. He'd lied to everyone about everything just to get what he wanted. She shook the thought away, she had to get ready.

She slipped into one of Alex's smarter outfits, promising to return it, washed, the next day, and plopped her thermos into her purse.

"Good luck with Kara." She called as she slipped out the door.

———

The walk to the hacker's address wasn't too long. Nothing was very far away, especially in downtown National City. All the apartment buildings were clustered into a ten-block square. She ducked into an alley near the apartment, doing a quick recon of exit points. She patted the concealed holster that all agents were required to wear. Calmed by the security of being armed. Odds were Kara's ally would not be violent, but it didn't hurt to come prepared.

She fished one of her many badges out of her bag. It was standard protocol to have badges for other government organizations, as the DEO technically did not exist. Feeling comfortable in her cover, she tucked an NCPD badge into the breast pocket of the jacket she wore.

The apartment complex was nice, but not overly expensive. The kind of place that generally held nice law-abiding citizens. She checked her notes once more, confirming the apartment number before taking the stairs two at a time. On the third floor, she finally stopped near apartment 316.

She knocked without hesitation, mentally going over her cover story. There was a disturbance in the area—

The door opened.

He's cute.

The man who stood before her had short brown hair and a kind smile. He wore an unbuttoned cardigan over a button-up colored shirt.

"Hi, I'm Officer Clementine and we've had reports of a disturbance in the area. Can I ask you a few questions?" She pulled the badge out of her pocket and held it up for a moment.

"Of course, Officer." He opened the door wider, allowing her into the small neat apartment.

She stepped inside gratefully. "Uh, first things first. Name? For the record."

"Winn. Winn Schott." The name rang a faint bell in her head and she made a mental note to research it later. She shook his proferred hand.

"Were you here around 5 last night?" That was the most recent time she'd registered the hack in the NCPD database.

"Yes, I was catching up on some stuff for work. My boss just loves to give me more than I can handle."

Lily nodded, jotting that down on the notepad. "And do you remember anything unusual around that time?" Like a blonde cheerleader in a red cape flying around the city.

"No, Officer. It was pretty boring. Just finished work, watched Return of the Jedi, didn't hear anything weird."

"Ah, that's a good one," Lily nodded absently as she spoke taking more notes on her surroundings. Nothing in the apartment screamed 'evil serial killer' but you could never be too careful.

Winn made his voice old and raspy, "do or do not, there is no try." Chuckled awkwardly as silence stretched following his words.

Lily joined in on a whim, unsure if he was coming onto her, "use the force, young Skywalker." It seemed to be the right call and they both laughed.

The mood lightened and something warm seemed to form between them.

Lily asked a few more routine questions to disguise the real purpose of her visit.

He worked at Catco. He'd lived in the city for the last few years, etc...

Lily stood up, "well, thank you for your time, Mr. Schott."

"Winn! Please..." He trailed away clearly hoping for her name in response.

She smiled, "Lily."

The handshake was warmer this time. Their gaze met and she looked away, a pink tint to her cheeks. Be professional, she chided herself, you'll probably never see him again.

"Oh, uh." Winn called as she reached the door, "how do I get ahold of you if I think of anything?" The words again hung awkwardly in the air as though he was unsure how to do this, or even what he was doing.

"Are you hiding something from a city official?" Her face was stern, but her voice revealed the teasing tone of her words. The flirty mood from early quickly returning now that her goal had been accomplished.

"Not all, Offic—Lily." He smiled awkwardly tucking his hands into his pockets. "But...I—uh—I might have a crime to report." The words came out a little strangled. This was clearly not his forte and somehow that made it much cuter.

"Oh, what is that?" He was so easy to flirt with, she would've smacked herself for being so forward but he seemed to be feeling something similar.

"A stolen heart." His face was fully red now and his left kept rubbing the back of his neck uncertainly.

Lily almost laughed, unsure if that was the best response to his pick upline.

"Well, I might consider giving it back if you join me for coffee." She openly flirted, refusing to listen to the voice in her head calling this a very bad idea.

Winn's eyes widened. He clearly hadn't expected that, but he nodded enthusiastically with a goofy grin. The red still hadn't left his cheeks, if anything it was worsening. Lily scribbled her number on a sheet of paper in her notebook. She ripped it out carefully and handed it to Winn.

"Call me." She winked and headed out the door. She needed to get to work or she'd be seriously late.

———

The walk to the DEO was short. Winn's apartment was only a few minutes away from it. Ugh Winn. She chastised herself, what are you doing? You can't go on a date with him. You lied three times in your first conversation.

Resisting the urge to bang her forehead against the wall, she changed quickly and headed to her office. Along the way, she bumped into Alex.

"Hey."

Lily made a face.

"Oh, I recognize that look." Alex slid an arm around her and continued conspiratorially, "boy trouble."

Lily dropped her head on Alex's shoulder with a huff. "You're one to talk, Ms. I'll-do-anything-for-a-doctor's-note."

Alex shoved Lily's head off her shoulder.

"Is he cute at least?" Alex fished for information casually.

"Come on, would I settle for anything less?" Lily said haughtily with an exaggerated flip of her long brown curls.

"Of course, your highness. How could I forget your impeccable standards?" Alex tossed in an eye roll at the end, but her huge grin made it rather hard to feign annoyance.

"I ran into him on my errand," that sounded better than, he was the errand. "And we totally geeked out about Star Wars. He used the absolute cheesiest pick-up line." Lily used her hands for emphasis as she gestured wildly, her cheeks slightly pink. "So I gave him my number, and we'll see what happens."

Alex pretended to gag, "if you buy Han and Leia towels I'm out."

Lily bumped Alex, "you're just jealous that you don't have a Han of your own."

"Oh, so he's Han now. That's a step up." Alex waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

"Shut up, we talked for five minutes. It's not like we're soulmates." Lily glanced at the notebook in her hands. "Now, I'm going to finish my report before you start planning the wedding."

"I had better be the maid of honor," Alex called as Lily walked away.

Lily flipped her off without turning around.

The rest of the day passed quickly.

Writing the report wasn't too difficult, but she did feel rather guilty about writing a threat assessment of the cute guy she hoped to go on a date with. She ran a background search to make certain she had all the relevant information. Most of it came as no surprise, a degree in computer science, the IT department at Catco. She paused, her mouse hovering over a name on the birth certificate.

Father: Winslow Schott Sr.

The bells that had gone off in the apartment were ringing again, and a quick search told her why.

"Winslow Schott Sr. AKA "Toyman" was convicted of the murder of six people and sentenced to life in prison without the possibility of parole. He sent a teddy bear bomb to Chester Dunholtz, the package was instead opened by his assistant. It exploded, killing her and five other people."

Lily closed the article, her stomach churning. A wave of understanding shot through her at the subtle way Winn had changed his name to distance himself from his father. She could understand that, after all, she'd changed her last name to avoid the stigma of her family. And went only by a nickname, because her actual first name was too close to her mother's.

She debated for a while on whether to include this information in the file. On the one hand, she needed to do a comprehensive report, but she also knew that you couldn't judge someone by the maniacs in their family. Eventually, she decided against it. Not wanting to bias Hank against Winn, and the information was easy to find if he looked for it.

All in all, she concluded, going back to her report. Winslow Schott Jr.'s background in computer science makes him a capable hacker. But, he appears to be a negligible threat.

Lily leaned back in her chair and stretched. She glanced at the clock, it was early enough in the day that Hank could still bring in Kara. Knowing there was no point in prolonging the innevitable, she decided to just rip the bandaid off and give Hank the file. She walked to his office slowly and knocked on the door cautiously, not wanting to disturb him.

"Come in." His voice was gruff and left no room for disobediance.

Lily pushed open the door, entered the room, and closed the door before she started talking.

"Sir, I finished the report." She handed him the file, "I found an accomplice of Kara Danvers. His name is Winn Schott Jr., an IT tech at Catco. He's been hacking the NCPD dispatch. I conducted a threat level assessment this morning and found his threat level to be negligable."

Hank nodded appreciatively, "good work, Agent. I'll look over the file, we're picking up Miss Danvers tonight."

Lily tried not to blanch at the callousness in his tone, emotional distance was just part of the job.

"Sir, if I might request? Could I be the one to tell Alex about tonight's assignment?"

Hank sized her up for a moment before nodding. "Tell her we leave at 1800, we're going to the mountain facility."

Lily nodded, "sir," and left.

———

Lily found Alex in her lab, pouring over her latest experiment. A beaker bubbled over a small flame, it contents glowing ominously. Again she knocked before entering, remembering her close encounter with the laser.

"Hey, Doc. Trying to find a new stage in human evolution?"

Alex laughed at Lily's tendency to overplay the importance of her experiments.

"Just studying that skin sample I told you about last time. It did something really weird when I tried to clean. So now I'm testing its response to different chemicals in the cleaner."

"Cool." It really did sound interesting, but Lily was on a mission. "Hey, what do you say we go spar, like old times? I bet I can still kick your ass."

"Oh please. You could never kick my ass."

"Is that a yes?" Lily poked her friend, earning a laugh before her hand was swatted away.

"Sure." Alex pulled off the lab coat, "it would be good to get out of the lab for a bit."

Lily tugged her hand impatiently, "come on."

"I'm coming, I'm coming." Alex turned the dial on the small burner, extinguishing the flame. She made sure everything else was off before she joined Lily in the doorway.

They headed down the stairs and took a right to the small gym that agents used for onsight training. The room was sparsely furnished, various exercise machines were lined up against a far wall, a large fan overhead kept the room cool, and in the center of the room was the large mat that agents used for sparring sessions. Alex stretched against one wall, and Lily put her hair in a tight bun before doing the same.

"So what's on your mind?"

"Hmm," Lily looked up at Alex's question.

"You normally want to spar because there's something on your mind. So spill."

Lily shifted from foot to foot. "I'll tell you once we get started. I need to move, I've been stuck at that desk all day."

Alex nodded and they both moved toward the mat.

"Standard rules?" Alex asked.

Lily nodded. "Uncle means forfeit. No cheap shots."

They danced around the mat for a minute, loosening their muscles as they assumed a fighting stance.

Lily swung first, a sharp jab that Alex blocked. Alex retaliated with a fast cross that caught Lily's unbruised shoulder, instead of the jaw she'd been aiming for.

"So." Lily began, swinging again. "Hank gave me an assignment I didn't tell you about."

Alex said nothing, waiting for her to elaborate. She tried a roundhouse kick with her leg, that Lily caught. Intending to flip her by the leg, Lily was caught off guard when Alex pulled her leg back forcefully throwing Lily off balance.

As Lily caught herself, she continued. "He wanted me to do a threat assessment so we could bring Kara in."

Alex's cross didn't miss this time and Lily could feel her jaw bruising.

Lily held a hand to her cheek gingerly and looked up at Alex. Her face was stony.

"Hank wants us to be ready for transport to the mountain at 1800."

Alex walked off the mat, toward the door.

"Alex, wait," Lily called pleadingly. "Say something, please."

"Uncle," Alex didn't turn around, her voice as stony as her face.

———

It was a tense two hours until the 1800 transport. Lily had retreated to her office, not wanting to face the prospect of running into Alex. She had no doubt that she deserved her black and blue cheek, but it still stung.

The time seemed to drag by, and Lily tried to distract herself with minor IT jobs she'd been putting off. The image of Alex's stony face kept popping into her mind, but she knew it was too early to apologize. Alex had a fiery temper and it was no use talking to her while she was all riled up. With forty-five minutes to go, Lily was starting to get antsy. She wasn't sure if she could handle the thirty-minute ride to the mountains.

Her phone chimed momentarily distracting her from her internal tirade.

Unknown number: Is it too late to take you up on coffee? —Winn

In spite of the bruise on her cheek, she smiled. She could almost hear the awkward note in his voice as she text. Alex was momentarily pushed from her mind.

Sure. Have you ever been to Mocha Owl?

The small coffee shop was close to the DEO, only a five-minute walk. Plenty of time to get there and back before the transport left.

Winn: See you in ten?

Lily agreed and grabbed her bag, it was no use wallowing here another minute. She clocked out without talking to anyone. She took a large breath of cool city air as she exited the building, there was something about cold air that just a person feel so alive.

As she'd expected, she arrived with a few minutes to spare. She took a seat on a comfy couch in the back, and sipped from her coffee thermos. Winn arrived a few minutes later, looking just as cute as he had this morning, his considerably more windswept though.

"I see you came prepared," he motioned to the thermos in her hands.

She shrugged, "what can I say? I'm a pro when it comes to coffee." She glanced out the window enjoying the view for a moment, but the moment brought Winn's focus to her cheek.

"You look like you lost a fight with the world's tallest doorknob."

Lily laughed, "just a mistake on the job. They can't all be an interview with a cute nerd."

Winn laughed and his cheeks turned pink, clearly not used to being so openly complimented.

"So how did your day go? Did you ever catch the guy that caused the disturbance?"

Lily nodded, remembering her cover. Now with a twinge of regret, why did I have to lie to the cute guy?

"Yeah, one of your neighbors saw something. It wasn't hard to go from there."

"What about you? Did your boss pile on you again?"

Winn shook his head, "thankfully it wasn't too much. I think I had a bit of good luck today."

His eyes met hers and he turned pink. Lily's own cheeks heated up at the implication.

From a conversation about work, it was easy enough to slide into an animated discussion about the Star Wars franchise.

"I'm just saying," Lily attempted to counter Winn's point. "The prequel trilogy really didn't do the series any favors. I mean we all knew where Anikan's story was going to end, so what's the point?"

Winn held a hand to his heart, clearly wounded. "The point? The point is that any good prequel expands on a story. Sure, we knew Anikan was going to be evil, but we got to learn how he turned evil. Isn't it so much more interesting when you know the villain's tragic backstory?" Lily enjoyed the way his awkwardness completely evaporated into passion as he talked about the movie. The words 'villain's tragic backstory' struck a cord in her heart, but she pushed the pain away. She really did not want to think of Lex right now.

Her eyes wandered over Winn's face, looking more through him than at him. She wondered if those words made him think of his father. Of all the terrible things he'd done or like she did with Lex, of the kind soul he used to be.

Winn waved a hand in front of her cautiously, "am I boring you? Because there are a million other things I could talk about. I mean it's not every day I get to have coffee with a pretty girl so..." His voice trailed away clearly embarrassed at the accidental compliment.

"No, no. I love Star Wars. You just reminded me of someone."

Winn clearly caught the tone in her voice and didn't ask her to elaborate. That flash of camaraderie she'd had when reading about his father was back. His hand brushed hers on the table and she smiled at the sweet gesture. Both of them two awkward to fully hold hands on the first date. Was this a date?

That thought went out the window as she glanced at her watch. She jerked her hand back quickly, shoving her thermos into her purse. She only had ten minutes before the transport left. Hank would kill her if she was late.

"Do you have somewhere else to be? Because I'm beginning to feel like your mistress."

"Oh, no." Lily waved off the comment, "I just have to meet my partner for a stakeout soon and he's a real stickler about being on time." She stood up collecting her purse. She paused, unsure what the proper goodbye gesture was. Should she hug him? A handshake maybe?

She realized she'd paused too long and waved awkwardly. "We should do this again." She beamed at him, ignoring the pain in her cheek.

Winn nodded, his eyes shining, "definitely."

———

Lily sipped her thermos as she walked back to the DEO. She was running low on coffee, but she figured soon enough she'd be running on adrenaline just fine. She clocked back in quickly and changed into her work clothes in record time, meeting Alex and Hank in the large command hub. The latter nodded at her while the former didn't say a word.

"Good of you to join us, Agent. Your file was very informative." Alex stiffened slightly at Hank's words and the knot in her stomach that had unclenched at the coffee shop came back twice as painfully.

"Vasquez, you're in charge." Hank barked as they headed towards the garage.

"Sir," came the response.

They piled into the transport silently. No one daring to break the awkward spell until finally Alex got fed up.

"Sir, why was I not informed of this operation before?"

"Personal involvement. You're too close to the target, Danvers."

Alex bit back what was probably a scathing reply and didn't say another word until they arrived at the mountain. They threaded their way through the labyrinth-like building to the room where Alex's sister lay sedated.

Alex blatantly flinched at the kryptonite dart still stuck in her chest, Lily knew this was her biggest fear.

Hank noticed. "Take a minute, Danvers. She'll be out at least a half-hour."

Alex nodded and left the room silently.

"Sir," Lily started, motioning after Alex. "Can I?"

Hank nodded.

Lily ran after her best friend. "Alex," she called, walking up hesitantly. Not sure if Alex would want her company. When Alex yell Lily took that as an ok to sit down. "I know this scares you. I know if it were Kiera in there, I'd be terrified." She slid a little closer to Alex. "Your sister is different and that makes her special, and yes, it means that people will be scared of her and they may try to do bad things to her. But Alex,"—Lily held her cheek gently, looking her in the eyes— "Hank Henshaw is not one of those people." Lily slid an arm around Alex, and Alex lay her head on Lily's shoulder. "We have known Hank for a long time, and he may be a hardass,"—Alex laughed lightly—"but, he is not a bad person."

Alex nodded her head against Lily's shoulder. They stayed like that for a few more minutes before Alex sat up. She wiped the tears from her eyes, and smoothed her shirt. As she stood up she didn't meet Lily's gaze, and Lily knew there were still some bridges to be mended. But their friendship was not broken forever.

Lily and Alex leaned against the wall waiting for Kara to wake. Alex had insisted on unbuckling the Kryptonite cuffs on her sister's wrist and Hank clearly hadn't agreed, but he'd allowed it.

A while later the room was filled with a groan as Kara finally woke. She immediately tried to get up, clearly unsettled by her new surroundings. However, there was enough of the Kryptonite still in her system that she was weak. She fell back to the table with a quiet thud. Lily glanced at Alex to see how she was handling this, only to find her face just as stony as it had been when she punched Lily.

"What is this place? Who are you?" Kara was very clearly panicking

Hank stepped into her field of vision. "My name is Hank Henshaw. This is Agent Larken." He pointed to Lily. "And I believe you already know Agent Danvers." Alex moved to her sister's side, trying to hold her hand comfortingly, but Kara jerked away.

"Alex?" Betrayal was etched into her voice, and Lily could see that it was almost enough to make Alex's careful mask crumble.

#winn schott x oc #winn schott #supergirl #CW Supergirl #kara danvers #alex danvers #hank henshaw #lena luthor #cwtv #J'onn J'onzz #dc #dc comics #drama #romance #comedy #cat grant

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hackink · 4 years ago

Text

Step Dad

A short story

I hear thrashing and screaming, I yearned for it to end, never did. That quite sucks not gonna lie.

I'm the big one, it's like I'm the chosen one in my family, could be both good or bad. I've got to take care of my siblings, like all the time. The big responsibilities always point in my direction. It's not all bad, I do have my fair share of fun. But for that same reason, I must set a good example. I can't really act the way I wanna most of the time, usually I've make-up on my face, covering the skin before it. It's kinda complicated.

This one time, my parents came into my room, they introduced me to someone, he was a tall white man, and was fairly well clothed. He was wearing these really nice shoes, and had a suit on that looked like it cost buck. I shook his big hand, it felt soft, and a bit warming. We talked for about 30 minutes, he was a fairly nice person, and my parents seemed to like him as well.

After that time was over, my dad went to the room, and grabbed some suitcases out from the closet, as he rolled them by, I felt my heart drop. They explained everything.

Quickly, I put my make-up on, before it was too late, it was. Once I saw my little brother and sister hugging the leg of my dad, begging him to stay, I washed it off naturally. 'Who is he to take the place of my dad?' This thought lingered in my head that night, I took some sleeping pills.

I avoided the man, I didn't want to talk to him, if I saw my mother close to him, I'd turn my head, cause I know how violent I can get. There was this one time, where I walked into the kitchen to get a snack, was playing Minecraft with my siblings, and there I saw the two, hugging and kissing. I, at that moment, remembered how my dad taught me to drive, how he taught me to build a nice dog house for our pet dog, which had died upon my dad's exit. I remembered every single second I spent with my father, the amazing role model he was, and snapped.

Back in the 8th grade, one of my good friends was playing bloody knuckles with someone. He totaled him. He then turned to me, and held his fist up, I didn't last two punches. He told me to start punching the walls at home, bit by bit, so that it wouldn't hurt and my fists would become stronger. In two months' time, my knuckles along with my punches, had become stronger than most boys in my school. I beat my friend, the only time I did too, cause he trained after that as well, and became much better than me. Though, I did beat just about anyone in school at bloody knuckles.

I clenched my fist, and I dropped my phone. This man was innocent, I just hated the fact that he wanted to replace the man who could never be replaced, ever. I felt like letting him know. I had never punched anything as hard as I could, since it'd probably be the end of my fist, but boy do I gotta say his cheek was soft. He fell to the ground and hit the stove with his head, my mom started to scream and push me back, each little shove she gave me, let me know how much she liked this man. They all hurt. I hadn't seen her do that with my dad in the past year, and he gets to do it in the first week? I couldn't settle with that, I ran out the house, and went to my grandma's house, where I began punching the tree in order to not break down in tears.

She gave me some hot cocoa, and let me spend the night there. She felt like she always had, like my grandma, so I felt comfortable, silently I sobbed. The next morning I got up and took a shower, my hands had a bunch of wounds in them from punching the tree bare fisted, and they really hurt to clean. They were also shaking, 'maybe I cracked a bone or something?' I didn't really care, my adrenaline wasn't going down anytime soon.

I was taking a jog outside around the house to clear my mind, when I see a tall man, with some really nice shoes, and a bruise on his cheek come by. 'Your mother sent me to get you.' I ignored him, for his sake. He sat down in a chair, and patted next to him, signaling for me to take a seat. I was thinking it was a bad pun, was he here to mock me? His face was so infuriating, the fact that it wasn't six feet under was pissing me off. On my next lap around the house, I kicked his chair over, his suit looked expensive. He smiled and chuckled, 'kids these days are quite funny.' Why? He must be a psycho, my reaction would be to get mad, or confused at least!

He began to jog alongside me, this man was starting to tick me off big time. I stopped running, grabbed his tie, and said 'Get out, and I mean out, you lay another finger on my mom and I'll kill you!' I tripped him, and continued my jog. I'd feel guilty, but I can't for someone who got my father kicked out of the house, nobody deserves to live after screwing with my family.

I returned home later that day, still a tad hesitant because of the incidents the day prior. My mom asked me to help her cook, she was making shrimp. She gave me the basic rundown of what she had going, and started cutting vegetables off to the side, we started talking about the usual, how much I annoyed her, and how my siblings were idiots. I hear the door open, and I get ready for disappointment, 'Hello everybody!!' it's a... playful voice?

'Where's my food you peasants?' My eyes lighten up, followed by tears. I rush over to hug my dad, started to sob in his arms. He had a black bag, that had chips in it, he always brought chips back home from time to time. He lied it down on the table, and not long after, my siblings came running and crying. 'Dad why did you leave!?' My little brother cried as he hugged him, my sister on the other side. I felt a sense of family, something I haven't felt in a long time. Through the open door walked a other entity, the tall man. I then snapped back into life, and became a bit sad that I wasn't seeing my dad every day, or that he wasn't showing me something. I didn't feed him, I let him eat a microwaved frozen food, I could not give a damn about his existence. Well, that's a lie, I'd prefer if he was gone.

A couple weeks went by, I was kinda getting used to ignoring the tall man in my house. One good thing is that I never saw him getting intimate with my mom. Could've been good or bad, cause I couldn't punch him, bummer. He was always at work, your typical nine to five corporate slave. So when he was gone, I'd spend time normally with my family. I video chatted my dad every day or two, and just talked about life, sometimes he'd show me how to wood work via video chat. I could live with this.

One day, he came back with a few boxes in his hands, and a letter, or at least that's what it looked like. He opened the boxes in front of my sister and brother, as well as my mom and I. Inside the link box, there was a super high quality drawling tablet, the exact one that my sister always wanted, and cracked jokes about. She took it and ran to her room to use it. In the blue box, there was this laptop, one that my little brother was talking about gettjng for ages, and wouldn't shut up about how good it was. He said thank you and ran to his room to use it. I was pissed, he was trying to buy us into liking him, and it was seeming to be quite effective. He opened a my box, it was keys to a car, specifically the car I always told my dad I was going to get when I got money, and got us out of this house, into a nice house. He always said he was gonna buy it for me, I felt conflicted.

'I know we've had our ups and downs, but I really do want to get along with you as my child, or maybe even just a friend.' I saw my mom out of the corner of my eye, she was tearing up, of happiness. I came back to my senses, and went back to my room, slammed the door shut. I knew I had let my mother down, there were like twenty different emotions circulating through me, they were wreaking havoc. I began to punch the walls, I started screaming, it was probably audible from miles away. I felt weird, something I had never felt before. It didn't seem healthy, but I didn't care. This feeling was new to me, I felt like dying over and over, but even then, that might've not been enough to suppress the pain. I remember thinking to myself, 'I'm gonna kill him, he will die!'

That night, I asked him to come talk to me outside. He looked excited. We went outside, and I took him to the back of the house. I had an itch on my lower back. 'So, what's up?' I didn't reply. 'You're uh, quite the mysterious one aren't you?' He chuckled a bit to himself, I didn't move a muscle. He began to talk about what he had for the future, how he was gonna move us out in like a month, and buy us everything we wanted. 'That's what my dad's gonna do.' I mumbled quietly. 'I beg your pardon?' He replied. I couldn't take it anymore. 'My dad's gonna buy us a house, he's gonna move us out!' I pulled out the pocket knife from the back of my pants and stabbed him in the chest.

His blood came rushing out shortly, I began to scream and cry, 'You will never be my dad!' I stabbed him time and time again, he didn't move after a while. My dad walked up behind me and patted me on the back, along with my mother, sister, and little brother. We spit on him together, and we started to chant, it was a happy chant. We danced around his corpse. I started to sweat intensely, my family began to fade away, still chanting, it turned louder and louder. They began to float away, I dropped to my knees, and the tall man was laughing at me, he pointed and laughed. I started to laugh, with tears running down my face, I took the knife and pointed it at me, that's when I heard the voice. 'Wake up! Jesus Christ you've been sleeping all morning!'

My mom woke me up, I got up and went to the table. I got a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch, and began to eat. My mom walked outside and began to talk to my aunt, 'So, I was able to get this puppy sold for about $150!' I overheard some of their conversation, I wanted a puppy. My dad walked in with a bag, 'Hello my dear children! I am awesome for I have brought the goodies!' I look inside the bag, and tell him that he forgot my hot chips. He quickly runs outside. I take the bag over to my sister and brother, where they get their bag of chips, and start munching away. Once I finish my cereal, I get ready for school. I brush my teeth, and put on a sweater. My mom passes by me on the phone with her sister, talking about something, I couldn't quite catch it. As I open the door, I see my dad chasing after my baby sister, who's face is covered in mud, and laughing away. 'I'm gonna brush your hair so hard!' He yells at her, I giggle to myself. My aunt is outside my house, playing jump rope with my cousin. I wonder who's winning. My sister walks past me, and looks at me. 'Another bad dream?' she asks. 'Yea, this one was hectic.'

#my words #my writing #short story #step dad

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vanchlo · 5 years ago

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The Assistant / Chapter Twenty Nine, “Strength In Weakness”

Warning! This story contains mentions of: death, cancer, heart attacks, hospitals, funerals, and brief mentions of end of life care.

Find all chapters by clicking here :-)

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Sneakyyyyyy Peeeeeeeeek

Our tears hold silent words of understanding. Understanding that the other is in pain. Pain perhaps we can’t name, but that of which we share. And they hold the comfort found in that understanding. The pain of watching a sick loved one, because why else would he also be here at 9 pm on a Wednesday night? His sniffles fill my ears, with the movie a hum in the background. I feel everything pour into those tears as I clutch the back of his jumper.

The missing him. The regret. The hundreds of emotions because of that stupid ring. The longing for him. The whirlwind of emotions from when he spoke to my class. The sad happiness at seeing him behind me at the vending machine. The relief. The worry about my dad. The fear from the surgeon’s words. All of the stress. The pain I’ve bottled up from being away from him.

“Harry,” I say aloud, almost on accident. My head would’ve said it, anyways.

“Becks,” he whispers, sounding disbelieving with a shake of his head.

“Do you h-have any recommendations then?” I stutter, blinking hard with a mental curse for not even being able to say three words to him before screwing up.

“Uh, tha giant cinnamon roll isn’t too bad, ‘specially when ya microwave it. ‘s very filling, tho. I doubt ya'll be able t’ finish it all,” he answers with a soft shrug.

I pull my battered purple wallet from my brown purse. Finding my card, I swipe it and press the code for the cinnamon roll. The curly wire holding it in place unravels. It falls with a satisfying thud.

“Maybe I’ll have to find somebody to share it with then,” I quip, turning to face him with the cinnamon roll now clutched in my hand. He wasn’t kidding, this thing is big.

“Well, I might just know where a microwave ‘s,” he replies with a smirk. I nod and follow his long legs clad in fitted joggers.

The silence is unsettling and awkward as I follow him down the length of the hallway. I wonder at first if he knows where he’s going, but after about twenty seconds, we arrive in the family room on this floor. Hmm, perhaps he’s been in this hospital longer than he can remember, too. Sofas and chairs surround a tv. Familiar puzzles, magazines, and books occupy the nearby table. The fridge hums and clunks nearby.

“Think there’s anything good on the telly at this time?” I ask nervously, finding a seat on the comfiest sofa around. Fiddling with my hands, I watch him open the bag and place it inside the microwave.

“Prolly not. ‘s prolly a buncha adverts an’ tha like. Maybe a good movie on somewhere,” Harry answers.

I blink hard, and yet the same unbelievable image still surrounds me.

Harry standing with his back to me.

Black joggers hugging his lean legs.

Black trainers.

A gray hoodie donning his upper half.

His curls are short, but maybe a little longer since the last time I saw him in that lecture hall.

He plays with them, but stops when the microwave announces its ends with annoying beeping. It’s hard, but I rip my eyes away from his body and reach to pick up the remote. I see him out of the corner of my eye grabbing plates and utensils. The television screen comes to life in front of me, and sure enough an advert for a special type of pillow fills the screen.

“Christ, not one o’ those my pillow adverts again,” Harry remarks disdainfully as he sits down on the other side of the sofa with a sigh. I toe off my shoes and let them fall to the floor.

Crossing my legs criss-cross applesauce, I giggle and change the channel. “You say that like you know what he’s talking about.”

“Yeah ‘cause I do, tha bloke’s bloody annoying. I can’t sleep some nights an’ ‘ll accidentally leave tha telly on an’ wake up t’ his bleedin’ voice at 3 in tha morning,” he huffs, pulling a laugh from my lips. “Here ya go, but be careful cuz ‘s hot.”

“Thanks.”

“No, thank you. ‘ve been cravin’ one o’ these, but ‘ve been tryna stay away from those bloody vendin’ machines,” he mumbles, tsking his lips as he cuts a piece of the cinnamon roll.

I prop my plate on my lap and surf through the channels before finding the movie, The Shining, on an odd channel. “Oooooo, this is a good one,” I comment before picking up my plastic knife and fork.

“Yeahhhhhhh. Hey, I wouldn’t ‘ave pegged ya fer a King fan,” Harry comments and I shrug before laughing at him. I watch him blow on the huge steaming bite of cinnamon roll. “What, ‘m hungry an’ tha cafe closed hours ago? Plus, dis floor has tha best vendin’ machines.”

“Nothing, I . . . just can’t remember you ever being patient enough to not burn your mouth,” I laugh, and watch one trickle from his lips. “You were always burning your tongue and mouth on those tacos, and gnocchi soups we had. It looks like nothing’s changed.”

“Oh, but tha churros an’ chocolate sauce were even worse. They were always pipin’ hot,” he adds with his mouth full of ooey gooey cinnamon roll. An uncalled for dirty thought pops into my head, making me clench my fist.

I laugh in agreement, making it hard to blow on my bite of cinnamon roll I hold before my lips. After recovering, the chunk of warm pastry melts in my mouth. “Wow, you weren’t kidding, this is good. How is it always that the trashy vending food tastes the best?”

“I dunno, I reckon they put somethin’ innit t’ make it so addictin’. Tha’s how they make so much bloomin’ money,” Harry comments, cutting another bite as he speaks. My eyes are drawn to his hands. Long fingers, speckled with dark brown hairs. And covered with a couple of rings. When my eyes flit to his ring finger, nothing’s there. My heart does a weird somersault in my chest. At the same time, it pushes away the questions forming in my head.

Surprisingly, a comfortable silence surrounds us as we eat. And our eyes are glued to the screen playing the end of the movie. Harry finishes his plate first, surely burning his mouth at some point. I finish soon after and we just sit there, lost in the movie. I can’t help peeking at him a few times, and that naked finger. Thick stubble lines his cheeks. It suits him. And I like it.

I see tiredness pulling at the corners of his eyes when they look back at me. “What?” he says, eyebrows furrowed. I shake my head with blushing embarrassment as the thought still sits there. His lips curl into a smile that grows teasing.

“N-nothing.”

“I don’ believe you,” Harry continues, refusing to let it go. “Ya’ve neva been a good liar, Becks. C’mon, tell me.”

“Fine,” I relent, watching his face brighten at my words. “It’s just odd. I uh, noticed you were wearing a ring on your ring finger when you spoke to my class back in October. But, now you’re not.” the observation tumbles from my mouth, glad to greet the air. Finally, yet awkwardly.

My heart sprints in my chest, afraid to hear what he has to say. Apprehensive to hear the answer that I’ve been searching for. I try to prepare myself for it, but at the same time, something inside of me tries to keep me rational.

“Oh, ya noticed that?” he smiles, earning a nod from me. “Good, that was tha point. Well, not you, jus’ anybody. Tha bloody uni girls always flirt with me when I do those talks. So I wear dis random ring on that finga, hopin’ they’ll back off. It helps, but doesn’t solve tha problem,” Harry explains. His words wash over me like cold shower on a hot day.

I silently release a breath I wasn’t aware I was holding. Then I hear that familiar chuckle of his.

“What, did ya really think I was married, Becks?”

I finally look over at him. His eyes crinkle with a knowing grin. I shove his arm and he only giggles harder. “I don’t know,” I confess quietly, looking away with embarrassment.

I don’t know how I’m going to live this one down.

But soon a laugh is coaxed from my lips to join his. It’s filled with nothing but relief, and happiness. That though had balled up into a knot in the back of my head. Always bothering me at the worst moments. It worried me, even though I knew I didn’t have that privilege anymore.

Any more thoughts that were coursing through my skull about it, are finished by his words. “No, ‘m not bloody married, or engaged. Although I thought I’d be at 28, ‘m not even close,” Harry divulges, a sad laugh framing his words.

My laugh quiets along with his as we enter uncharted waters. I look at him and give him a sympathetic smile. My eyes leave him, but I feel his on me. I wait, wondering if he’s going to say something. After several seconds, I decide to speak.

“Yeah, well-,” I begin, but I stop when his words tread over mine.

“How ‘bout you-,” Harry tries to say, but stops when we both start talking at the same time. Another laugh floats between us, and ends in an uncertain silence.

“Looks like yer better off than me, an’ met a nice bloke at tha uni.” Twirling a silver ring around my pointer finger, his words root me from my spot. My eyes widen at them and then I squint. I try to think of what he means, but it’s hard.

Unexpectedly, I realize what he’s talking about. And I smile because of the alarm shouting in my head.

Wait, what does this mean?!

You know what this means, Becky! Maybe he has fe-

“You mean Simon?” I ask, cutting them off before I go too far.

I really don’t want to go to that place again. We ran into each other at the hospital during a shit day. That’s all.

“Oh ‘s that his name? I dunno, jus’ looked like ya were with someone. Had his arm ‘round ya,” Harry says in a drawl. Now, his eyes are back on the telly. On Jack Nicholson.

And there, the thoughts come again. They click together like puzzle pieces. But I don’t let them lead me away from this moment. From reality.

But, Becky, he lik-!

“No no, Simon . . Simon’s just my friend. We kind of knew each other in high school back in Madley. We were both surprised to see each other in Crim. and we picked up where we left off,” I tell him, peeking a look over at him. But I have a good feeling he’s pulling a Becky and avoiding eye contact. “Plus, Simon has a boyfriend named Dylan.”

“Ohhhhh, my bad,” Harry replies, glancing over at me. When we meet eyes, his crimson face dissolves into giggles.

They’re contagious and bring one forth from my lips. All of a sudden, I can’t stop laughing. And neither can he, it seems. It feels so nice. The laughs keep coming, rolling over each other. Smoothing over the fissure that ring had eroded inside of me. They make me feel less stupid about the whole thing. Instead, they help me to acknowledge the fact that it was just a misunderstanding. And that evidently, they happen to all of us. I try not to read into it any more than that as our laughs die down. I won’t let myself. A comfortable silence fills the space our laughs previously did.

A scene from the movie catches our attention, and the misunderstandings are seemingly forgotten. I really get into the movie for the next 10 minutes, and I think so does he. I can barely tear my eyes away. But they leave the telly when he pulls his phone from his pocket. I watch his face turn from calm to upset when he reads something. On the other side of the couch, he types something back quickly. But I see the tears soon pricking at the corners of his eyes as he holds his forehead.

I don’t know what to say as I look away, trying to give him privacy. But then I hear him sniffle and try to clear his throat. I know how that goes, and that it doesn’t work. It doesn’t make the lump in your throat go away. He sighs and when I chance another look, he’s looking away from me. But I hear the crying. Suddenly, I feel my heart break, even more than it already has today.

Before I know what I’m doing, I’m scooching over to sit next to him. Seeing his left hand sitting on his knee, I pick it up and lace my fingers with his. I give it a squeeze and return my eyes to the telly. And wait. A familiar scene unfolds in front of me on the screen. I don’t even grimace at the blood like I did when I was a child. I take comfort in the nostalgia tied to this movie for me. But it doesn’t drown out the sounds of Harry crying. And the pain I feel at not being able to help him.

After a few more minutes of watching the movie, no words pass between us. But then I think to check on him again. As I do, he looks over at me with red eyes. Wet from spent tears that keep coming. A shy smile inches up his lips, but it’s an embarrassed one. And so it doesn’t last long.

“You’re gonna make me cry,” is all I say, because the tears are already bleeding into my words. We pull the other into our arms where we go to cry on their shoulder.

The missing him.

The regret.

The hundreds of emotions because of that stupid ring.

The longing for him.

The whirlwind of emotions from when he spoke to my class.

The sad happiness at seeing him behind me at the vending machine.

The relief.

The worry about my dad.

The fear from the surgeon’s words.

All of the stress.

The pain I’ve bottled up from being away from him.

Fistfuls of my hoodie are balled up in his hands. His prickly face is hidden in my neck where he spends his tears. I long to lose my fingers in his familiar hair to comfort him. But I know that I’m already doing that as we share each other’s pain. His clean scent fills my nose as I breathe shakily against his shoulder.

“‘s my granddad, Becks,” he chokes out, coughing. “H-he hadda heart attack this afternoon. Dunno if he’ll make it. He’s onna ventilator with machines keeping him alive. I neva wanted t’ see him like that. An’ tha thing ‘s, he has in his last wishes t’ not live like that . . . A-and now my family’s askin’ me if I wanna be there when he passes,” his words stop, making my heart grow heavy with each one.

“I’m so sorry, Harry. That should never be a decision you have to make,” I tell him in raggedy breaths. “It’s so awful watching somebody die. Not even just in the moment, but after. When my granddad passed, right when I started working for you, I was there when it happened. And it still haunts me to this day. My mum forced me to be there, and I think I wished I hadn’t. It was terrible watching him gasp for air, and not knowing when would be his last breath. But at the same time, I’m glad he wasn’t alone. I don’t know, it’s a hard decision to make. But you need to make that decision for you and what you want, Harry. Not what your family wants.”

He nods into my neck, humming an ‘mmmmhmm.’ “Do you need to decide now?” I ask, words still coated in tears.

“No, I don’ think so. But he had surgery a few hours ago an’ tha doctors are sayin’ it doesn’ look like he’ll wake up,” Harry confesses, words dissolving into more tears.

I hold him tighter against me and cry with him. My tears come from the fear of losing my dad. Remembering being in the same seat as Harry when my granddad passed. And I cry for Harry and the nightmare he’s going through.

“I’m so sorry, Harry,” is all I can say.

I listen to his heavy sobs that make his body shake. Pressing my lips together hard, I shed tears into his hoodie. I feel like I can hardly catch my breath. It only becomes worse when I hear the next words that leave his lips.

“Is yer dad okay, Becks?” he asks, trying to breathe in. But I can tell it’s hard by the shakiness of his words.

“I don’t know,” I sob, my words almost incoherent. He nods into my neck, rubbing a hand up and down my back. “He had surgery to remove the tumor. B-But it took longer than they said it would. And then the surgeon said they don’t know if they got it all. Which means he for sure has to have more chemo. And I’m just so scared. I don’t want my dad to have cancer anymore.”

“‘m really sorry, Becks,” Harry coughs in between tears, his hand rubbing in circles. Uneven breaths leave his lips as choked sobs leave mine. The tears follow one after the other. Ugly sounds follow.

I can’t find the strength to speak again, and so I nod. My arms shake clutching at his sweatshirt. My white-knuckled hands relax and I fall into him. All of my inhibitions and self-made promises are out the window. I told myself I wouldn’t let him in again, and here I am. And I’m glad I broke that promise. Long, broken sobs are muffled into his shoulder. His hands move in circles on my back as my mind finally entertains all of the possibilities.

My dad’s cancer not being cured.

My dad needing even more chemotherapy.

Maybe even radiation.

None of that working.

Everything being the same between Harry and I after this.

And how much that hurts me. All of it.

Talking to my dad about his last wishes.

Watching him take his last breath.

I let Harry hold me as I let myself feel every single raw feeling. Sobs rack my body and make it shake as a steady stream of tears paints my cheeks. I hear his too, and they only make me cry harder.

Wiping my nose with a kleenex, I watch him surf through the channels. Finally, he settles on an old episode of Scooby Doo, Where Are You? The daunting figure of the Wax Phantom materializes in the museum. I lift my head and readjust where it rests on Harry’s shoulder. Before my eyes, the monster trudges around the wax museum. My eyelids grow heavy, but I blink hard trying to wake up. This happens again and again, with my eyelids slowly growing heavier.

But it’s no use. After too many times, I can’t resist succumbing to sleep with my head on Harry’s shoulder and his arm rubbing mine.

I wake up on the surface of the scratchy sofa. The telly is playing an advert softly in the background. Rubbing my eyes crusted with sleep, I groan. With a tired sigh, I try to fall back asleep. I almost begin to, but a thought steals the sleep away. Pulling myself up to sit, I look around with fuzzy eyes.

I’m all alone.

Two blue hospital blankets have fallen to lay at my feet.

And two white pillows sit ignored in front of me.

Checking my phone, I see the time is 3:24 am. And that I have missed calls and texts from several people.

Robbie.

My aunt.

My grandma.

My mother.

And 2 texts from Harry.

Ignoring all of the others, I quickly open Harry’s from 16 minutes ago.

i’m sorry. had 2 go. didn’t wanna wake u. thank u for being there 2night, so much

And there’s another one that came a few minutes later.

im so proud of u becks. u know why

My heart skips when I read his words, and the heart emoji that finishes them like a period. I’m guessing he means the stuff going on with my dad, but more so for going back to law school. It makes my heart swell with happiness. But it beats fast at the sight of them as well, suddenly worrying what happened that he had to leave. And in that same moment, I feel heavy with worry about him. My thumbs dart across the screen, composing a hurried and sleepy reply.

It’s okay I understand. I hope everything is okay. Remember to do what’s best for you. Please let me know if I can help. You’re so welcome Harry and I can’t thank you enough too. And thank you so much. I really want to make you proud. Thinking of you

I don’t bother to read over my words finished with a heart emoji tool. I send the text, and try to go back to sleep. Because I can’t think about everything that happened tonight.

My dad.

Seeing Harry, and sharing what we did.

And him . . leaving.

The sickening worry it fills me to wonder the reason why.

Because now it’s like it never happened.

Luckily, the second my head hits the pillow, I’m asleep again.

I can’t stop looking. I hardly believe what I see, but I know I have to. A stranger stares back at me. Sullen eyes. Shaven cheeks for the first time in weeks. Styled hair. Dry eyes that stare back at me blankly. And a mouth that feels like it hasn’t smiled in months. But I know it hasn’t been that long. But this nightmare feels like it.

“Shit,” I mutter, bending down to pick up the violet tie that fell to the floor. Black wildflowers scatter the fabric. It seemed perfect for the occasion when I picked it out yesterday. But now I’m not sure anymore.

I wrap it around my neck again, for the second or third time. Going through the motions to tie it, I get a little farther than last time. Then my fingers stop, like they keep doing. Huffing, I step back and lean against the wall. I feel the chapped surface of my bottom lip come between my teeth. Oh yeah, I gotta remember to bring chapstick too, I add to my seemingly never ending list.

My thoughts are interrupted by the clanging sound of my postbox outside. Within a few seconds, I’ve opened my door and see my postman walking onto the next house. A stack of letters is what I find waiting for me.

“Great, mo’ sympathy cards an’ bills,” I groan, dropping the mail on the table beside the door. With plans to finally get this damn tie tied, I look back to the mirror above the table. But something catches my eye.

The letters have splayed themselves out sloppily on the brown table. Most of them are white, but one of them isn’t. One is a soft blue. Once again, the words inside of my head are stolen away by a sound. Fishing out my phone from the pocket of my slacks, I answer it.

“Ya, I know. ‘m gonna leave soon, ‘s not like ‘m late or anythin’,” I respond, sifting through the letters. Bill after bill meets my eyes. “I was there all bloody night last night fer tha wake, so why do I need t’ be early t’day?” Tossing the bills to the side, I keep sifting through them.

“I know, alright? But I . . I jus’ can’t alright? I can’t do all tha huggin’ e’rybody right now, ‘m sick of it. There’s plenty mo’ family ‘round who can do it,” I tell them through gritted teeth. The powder blue card is next in my hands. My voice catches when my brain conjures the owner of that bubbly handwriting. “I’ll be there at 2:30 an’ no earlier,” I rush, hanging up on them. Stuffing my phone away again, I instead pick up the envelope.

Within seconds, I pull the card out from the sea of blue. Wildflowers decorate the front along with words card companies think are comforting. All of the other ones have hardly been that, but these ones are closer than before. Just seeing her handwriting peeking at me from the inside is more comforting than all of the others combined. I feel the tears pressing at the back of my eyes, ready to fall at command.

With a deep breath, I’m greeted by her bubbly letters in purple ink. I can’t say I’m surprised, it’s her favorite color.

Harry, It took me twenty minutes to pick out a card, because none of them seemed good enough. None of them said the right words that I wanted to say, so I finally just picked this one. Even if I looked for 3 hours, I don’t know if I would’ve found the “right” one... I hope it’s okay. I saw your granddad’s obituary in the paper today. I don’t even think the words ‘I’m sorry’ are close to what I feel for you and want to say, Harry. They weren’t the right words when my granddad passed. They were what everybody said, and after a while, I hated hearing them. They became redundant and meaningless. But I am sorry, Harry. I’m sorry that you lost your grandfather, and the unimaginable pain you’re going through missing him and trying to live a life that he’s no longer a part of. I’m so sorry that you’re hurting. Some days it seems it gets easier. But other days are hard, I’ve learned. They’re the anniversaries, birthdays, days they enjoyed, family get togethers, or really any day that ugly grief decides to return. We all handle grief differently and so it’s hard to give advice. But take care of yourself. Please, Harry. If that means staying at home watching Netflix, or distracting yourself with work, that’s okay. It’s your pain, it belongs to you. It’s okay to handle the pain however you decide to, but please take care. You don’t have to visit his grave. You don’t have to talk about him again if you don’t want to. You don’t even have to cry if that’s not you. Or you can cry all of the time, or you can talk about him all of the time, too. But you do have to feel the pain, as terrible as it is. I never really found anything that helped, but I like to remember my granddad sometimes by doing things he loved. I go fishing on opening day with Robbie, I stuck one of those suctioned bird feeder on one of our windows, I make or buy a vanilla cupcake on his birthday and sing happy birthday to him, sometimes I visit his grave and bring things he likes but I know I don’t have to go there to talk to him. I know that I don’t have to do those things to make it feel like he’s with me, because he always is. I’m sorry that this card is all about me, but I hope that my words help. Even just a little bit. Please know that I’m thinking of you, and your family. I know what you’re going through, and how hard it is. I’m not going to say ‘things will be okay,’ because I know that’s the opposite of how things feel right now and for the near future. I know how much it hurts. I know that by the time you get this card, the funeral is any day now. That was one of the hardest parts for me, and it made it all the more surreal. I’m sending you so much strength and love, Harry. If there's anything I can do to help, please know I’m here for you. Love, Becks xoxoxo

The first laugh I’ve spent in days greets the air. But it’s ironic and surprising, I’m not sure. Only a few seconds later, tears accompany it. Soon, my phone is back in my hand where I banished it from minutes ago. And my ass is sitting on the bottom of my staircase. And I’m dialing the number I’ve been itching to for the last week.

They answer on the third thing.

My aching heart is soothed with the sound of their voice. Like the drought welcoming the rain.

“Hi,” I say slowly, my words sodden with tears.

“Hi, Harry,” she replies, sounding surprised. But her voice brings me comfort, the most I’ve felt in the last 8 days. It’s loud where she is, but in a couple of seconds, it isn’t anymore.

“I got yer card, I uh jus’ read it. It was so sweet, Becks. I don’ think ‘thank you’ could begin t’ cover it,” I tell her slowly, uncertain what to say. I watch my feet grow blurry in front of me, and then refocus when another warm tear hits my cheek.

“I’m glad you got it. You don’t have to thank me. W-what are you doing?” she asks, taking time with her words.

“Tryin’ t’ get meself t’ put onna bloody tie. Ya know, me granddad tried t’ teach me once. But he gave up an’ admitted me gran’ always did it fer him,” I confess, the words falling out fast.

An amused hum comes from her. “That’s funny. My granddad always bragged about being able to tie ties blindfolded, or something. He tried to teach Robbie, but it never stuck. It just ended in tears and yelling,” she comments.

A smile warms on my lips, and I nod. To who, I don’t know, since she certainly can’t see me doing it. Regrettably.

“It’s today, isn’t it?” she guesses softly, earning a confirming ‘mmmhm’ from me.

“I’m wearin’ all black. Seems like too much of tha color, but I couldn’ bear t’ look at anythin’ else in me wardrobe.”

“As long as you’re comfortable, Harry, and black isn’t such a bad color. It fits the emotion, I guess you could say,” Becky says. I sniffle and wish her voice didn’t stop playing in my ear.

“Yer right . . . ,” I agree aloud, not knowing what to say next. I hate this part. “I didn’ stay that night I saw you. I . . . thought I could do it, but I couldn’. I drove ‘round an’ cried, feelin’ all sorts o’ terrible. Terrible fer not bein’ there with him. Terrible as I waited fer tha text that he was gone. Even more so when I got tha text . . . An’ terrible ‘cause it didn’ really feel much different aftawards.”

“That’s okay. Grief doesn’t really follow any rules, Harry. And it certainly doesn’t make any sense. It never feels right. I’m so sory,” Becky tells me, somehow making sense of something I can’t even begin to make sense of.

“Ya ‘ave all tha right words t’ say,” I smile with a laugh that’s out of place, yet sad. My lips quiver as the tears run over them.

“I doubt it, but I hope that means they’re helping in some capacity.”

“Ya always help, Becks,” I divulge quietly, unsure if she heard me or not.

“Can you tell me what he was like?” Becky inquires.

“Ya. He was um, wicked tall. Told tha best stories, but like ya neva knew how much truth there was t’ ‘em. He made tha best grilled cheese, an’ somehow always with bread he made himself. He had this laugh that I loved. It surrounded a room when ya heard it. He always smelled o’ peppermint gum. He was always whistlin’, or singin’ Sinatra songs t’ himself. He made tha best popcorn on tha stovetop, an’ e’ry time I was ova. He taught me so much an’ turned me onto so many things that I love. He’s so much of who I am, an’ I dunno how t’ let him go now.” The memories turn into words, coming easier the further I go. A warmth accompanies them as they pass through. But they’re hard to get out, as the bittersweetness drowns them in my mouth.

“You don’t have to let him go, Harry,” she disagrees.

“B-but he’s dead,” I cry, feeling my body relinquish control to the sobs.

“But that doesn’t mean that you have to forget him like that. He’s still your granddad. You can still enjoy those memories of him. You can be happy he’s not in pain anymore without feeling guilty. You can still hold him in your heart. You can be mad at the world. You can be broken. There’s no right or wrong answer, Harry. It doesn’t feel that way, I know, but however you feel in the moment is okay. It’s okay to feel that way.” her words feel like a warm blanket coming over me after a bad day. They wrap me up in their syllables and hold me together, while I can’t.

I can hardly get out the words ‘thank you’ without my intermittent sobs covering them up.

“Of course,” is all she says. In her voice sweet as clover honey.

Radio silence follows her requital with my occasional whimpers punctuating my tears. This continues for a few minutes, but it’s not awkward. I feel comfort just from knowing that she’s there. But a thought edges its way in, ruining that contentment.

The ticking of the clock peaks my interest suddenly. More time has passed than I thought it had. “I uh should prolly get goin’ soon if I wanna make it on time, so me family doesn’t have a row,” I suddenly say.

“Yeah yeah, of course. Um, drive safe and, I hope everything goes well. You can text me if you want. I’m just, at work,” Becky replies fast, her words stalling at parts. I hear the nerves wired in her buttery voice.

“Thanks, love. I’ll rememba. But uh get back t’ work, kay?” I quip, feeling memories between us seep into my words.

“Yes, sir,” she replies, following along. I welcome it with the smallest of laughs.

“Good,” I exhale, unsure of how to end the call. And unsure if I even want to. Because this was nice, albeit the circumstances marked by hundreds of tears. It was nice to hear her voice, although I know I’ll miss it in a minute. That thought begins a new ache inside of my chest. “I’ll let ya go then. Have a good weekend, an’ take care, Becks.”

“You too, Harry. Thanks for calling,” she says, and I hear it in her voice. The shared uncertainty and nervousness. The awkwardness often there at the end of a phone call.

“And thanks fer pickin’ up, Becks.”

“Bye, Harry,” she almost whispers.

It takes every ounce of strength I have residing in me to echo her words, “G’bye, Becks.”

With every second that passes absent of her voice, the thought grows louder. It’s no longer ignorable. But I don’t let it take hold of me as I’m watching myself in the mirror. Wrapping the tie around my neck, and going through the motions. Tightening it around my neck as the tears begin to dry on my face. Then as I compose a text with forgotten words.

i hope ur dad is doing better. thx for being there becks xxx

The timer on my phone begins to buzz as I shut off the entryway light. Sitting on the steps once more with my shoes in hand, I acknowledge it. The thought that’s been tinkering away in my brain. Gaining speed.

It wasn’t enough talking to her on the phone. I wanted her here with me, again. I wanted to hide in her arms. Her scent of oranges and cloves blanketing me. Her words falling over me like snow, but without a phone separating us. I want her here with me.

I feel my heart lurch deep down as I grab hold of the door handle. The unspoken words settle with me as I attempt to find the strength to leave. Somewhere I find it, buried in the words she spoke into me mere moments ago.

Because that’s all I have, even if I don’t really have her.

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abitscripturient · 4 years ago

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Hunger At Breakfast

Bacon. That’s what my mind is registering right now and wait…cinnamon? These aromas slowly rouse me from my pleasure induced sleep coma and I open my eyes. Moving a bit of hair out of my face, I turn my head and find the source of the delicious smells.

Cowen is at my stove frying up bacon with his back to me. I shamelessly take my time admiring the way the muscles there curve and dip as he keeps cooking and this cooking of his goes on for about another ten minutes before he puts the fried pieces of meat on a paper towel covered plate and turns to face my direction. There is a pause between us and his eyes gleam as he scans over my sheet-covered body.

“Good morning, Mr. Firefighter.” I say while slowly turning around and sitting my body up then I watch Cowen put the plate of bacon on my bar. My loft didn’t come with a dining room so I usually ate my food there on one of my two barstools. I’m glad Cowen had good intuition on where to put the food instead of lumbering around clueless.

“Good morning, Dollbaby.” Cowen greets back while gesturing to the food. “Why don’t you get that sexy body of yours out of the bed and join me here for breakfast? I’m sure you’re pretty hungry.”

Honestly…I only half hear what he said to me because my attention was on the hills and valleys of his chest and abdomen. Cowen was clad in blue jeans. Blue jeans that were slightly unzipped and revealing to me a patch of his dusty blond pubic hair and the top of his cock.

My clit aches as I start remembering last night and I answer while biting my lip. “I was hungry then and I’m hungry now, Cowen.”

Cowen doesn’t say anything at first, but I can see in his darkening blue eyes that he knows exactly what I’m talking about. He turns to the plates he made saying in a now gravel like voice. “Then I suppose we should take care of both your types of hunger, darlin’ shouldn’t we?” All I can do is nod and while Cowen goes back into the kitchen to get the rest of the food, I stand up and stretch my limbs before putting on a nearby black silk robe over my nude body.

My fingers tie the straps to my waist as I walk up to the bar saying, “Dollbaby, huh?”

“Yeah. You gave me a nickname. Only fair that I give you one too. You like it?”

I move some of my hair behind my ear, looking down at the plates full of eggs, bacon, cinnamon rolls, and fruit. “It’s something I can get used to. Wow, this food looks great!” I think about Cowen’s line of work and frown dubiously. “How do you know how to cook, Cowen?”

"Well, it's just us firefighters. Not a single woman in sight so we have to feed ourselves however we can. I just prefer to do it in a tasty way." Cowen motioned to me, holding the spatula. “What about you? Can you cook?"

I scoff, shaking my head. "Not if my life depended on it!" Cowen and I share a laugh and I hear him ask, "Really? Not at all? What do you know how to cook?"

"Burnt meat, burnt vegetables, burnt bread...even burnt drinks."

"Honorée...now I know you're pulling my leg." Cowen shakes his head as he puts bacon strips on each of our plates. I watch, my stomach grumbling a bit deep inside. My smile is from ear to ear. "No, It's the truth! I promise you and I'm warning you now: I fuck up a majority of foods I make." I shrug. "That's why I only go to places like restaurants, fast food joints or I eat at friends' houses."

"Then how did Heaven and Savannah eat?"

My heart warms hearing Cowen remembering the names of my daughters and smile graciously when he sets a plate down in front of me. The first bite I take is of my bacon and I moan so very happy when I taste the salty savory goodness nearly melting in my mouth. Cowen eats while standing, leaning over his plate on the counter, waiting for me to answer.

" How else? They ate the same things I did! Or Andre's wife Lea would cook for us. When we lived in the house, I would make really simple things or microwavable things from the grocery store. I know, it's not a very motherly image, but we made do and we survived so there." I stare at Cowen, who doesn't take his eyes off of me as he consumes a forkful of his sunny side up eggs.

"You guys ate. That's all that matters in the end."

I point at him with the fork in my hand. "Now you're getting it."

Cowen chuckles, moving his food around before taking another mouthful. My eyes once again take in his huge frame crouched over my counter. His Fabio like hair trails down his back and his shoulders, making shiver as I remember how I loosened it from his ponytail last night while screaming out with ecstasy.

Glancing back up at me, Cowen freezes mid-bite as he realizes that I'm staring at him. I don't move my gaze from his, challenging him to do the same to me as he did on my bed. He stands up and clears his throat, using a paper towel to wipe his mouth. The paper towel goes on his plate and his hands go in his pockets. "Darlin'...If you're thinking what I think you're thinking then I suggest you remove that robe of yours so I can make up for lost time. If not, then let's get back to eating.”

Ignition Tag List: @kainablue @ladywithalamp @daftydrafty @catharticallysarcastic @rhine-cane

(please let me know if you’d like to added or removed)

#am writing #smut writers of tumblr #writing #writeblr community #bitzsoi #series: ignition #ignition: aflame #otp 2 #bits lemons

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wydobrien · 5 years ago

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𝐚 𝐭𝐲𝐩��𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐝𝐚𝐲.

THIS FLUFFY FIC WAS SAVED BY @writingsbychlo. i cried and yelled when i saw that i had accidentally deleted the whole thing and saved. go love on her. send her the most love. other than that! fucking! blessing! this is a calmer, genial and probable fluff fic i had written with my cat in my lap. take a temporary ease from the day, like the massive relief i got, and enjoy. pleasepleaseplease send lots of love to chloe. she made my literal day.

⠀⠀⠀ A routinal, inconsistent phone ringer awakes you, but not from your alarm. Groggily half-opening your eyes, you discover that, oh-so expected thirty minutes from your morning alarm, it is simply Stiles. You would’ve been thrown off if he hadn’t, seeing as no matter what time you set your morning alarm he found a way to be the sound you woke up to. They read as distracted as the equally spastic sender, nonetheless doing its job of bringing a soft smile to your face to peak through the exhaustion.

(y/n) wake your cute ass up.

I’ll be over in 10 minutes. I’m lonely.

Scratch that, babe, make it 5. Stilinskis don’t get speeding tickets. I miss you. It’s been 7 hours since I last saw you. That is a ridiculous amount of time.

I got pulled over hold up shit fuck

I’m going to die it’s Parrish

⠀⠀⠀ Grabbing your phone from its charger, your feet padded downstairs, the cool wood feeling nice against your toes. You turned on the kitchen lights, not worried for your work-absent parents, and dug into the fridge freezer for some waffles. You poured some sugar-free syrup into a measuring cup, just to be able to microwave it without burning your fingertips, and popped some creaks from your back. The silence became broken when an abrupt sound came from the living room, and a smile grew on your lips the moment your brain translated who was here.

⠀⠀⠀“What the fu-. . . I am removing this thing as soon as I get through. This is a ghastly, evil contraption meant to keep us apart. I hate it.” The sight of the chainlink lock keeping Stiles from bursting into your house made you laugh. “Yeah, very funny locking Stiles out. You’re so funny this morning.” You smirked, slowly shutting the door, ignoring the glare you received. Just for the pure hilarity to intensify his annoyance, you took your time unhooking the chain, holding in laughter from him banging on the window next to your door.

⠀⠀⠀ Once unhooked, Stiles dashed to the door, turning the knob and taking only two steps inside before taking your cheeks in his hands and bringing your lips to his. The kiss was long and sweet, a typical good-morning kiss from him, ending the kiss with a short peck. “Morning, Stiles.” He rolled his eyes and kissed you again, spinning you two a 180 before moving backwards until his lips snapped from yours, then shuffling into the kitchen to see what you were making. You crinkled your nose once the smell settled in afterwards. “Jesus, you smell like a crackhead.”

⠀⠀⠀ Unfazed, he plopped four waffles into the toaster, placing the cup of syrup into the microwave. “And your morning breath is a crackhead’s armpit, but you don’t see me complaining. I helped you shower last night, remember? I was too lazy to take a second one.” You blushed slightly and walked into the kitchen to join Stiles, hugging into his back as he poured hot syrup over his four, always four, waffles. One of his hands cuffed over your hold on him, and you kissed atop his back. You ignored the smell this time. “I can use another one, after I eat, though.” he mumbled, and you smiled against him.

⠀⠀⠀ “By yourself, though. I have to get ready.”

⠀⠀⠀ “After showering with me again, though. I think I’m worth another tardy.” His words were muffled with waffle, but the excitement remained evident in his tone. You slid a hand from under his and squeezed over it, before disconnecting from him. “Am I not worth a tardy? Am I just a quick fuck to you? Am I just your whore now? Where do we stand anymore?” Eyes rolling back, you shook your head and ruffled his hair, heading to your room.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

⠀⠀⠀ A loud sigh exasperated to vibrate off of all four walls in the classroom. “For the final Goddamn time, Stilinski, you are not a seat. Please remove Miss (l/n) from your lap.” With much hesitance, you were lifted back into your seat, the warmth from Stiles disappearing into the cold metal and plastic. “Back to textbook notes, class, please. . . for the love of God.” Chuckles scattered across the classroom, Stiles squishing his cheeks together in boredom.

⠀⠀⠀ Seeing as you shared half your classes with Stiles, a calculative move he bribed the front office to accomplish without alerting administration, this involuntary lap-sitting continued from class period to class period. Two teachers didn’t call him out for it, both being coaches either being out of the classroom for more than half the time or on their phones making plans for their teams, and the rest either snapped at the two of you or gave up after Stiles kept finding ways to ‘inappropriately’ touch you while class ran. You grew with the habit, a day-to-day thing that came with the perks of being Stiles’s girlfriend, so much in fact that it actually felt weird when you sat in your actual seat.

⠀⠀⠀ Lunch was a relief, Stiles plopping you down on his lap while you two shared a lunch. Scott and the rest of the pack rolled their eyes, while Stiles happily munched on gross school fries. “The fact that you inhale that mystery food is astonishing.” Lydia commented, munching on cinnamon dusted apple slices. Stiles continued to stuff his face, tossing a fry at the strawberry blonde. She passed the fry onto Liam’s plate with a scoff, the beta eating it without much thought, before, as normally most students did, spitting it out into a napkin and setting the nasty, spit-up fry pouch aside.

⠀⠀⠀ “I just don’t get it.” Scott chimed in in agreement, leaving Stiles to huff and wipe his fry-crust hand on the arm of Theo’s shirt.

⠀⠀⠀ With one hand on your thigh, he squeezed it and rested his chin on your shoulder. “Oh, wow, can you guys look at Liam?” Stiles chirped, softly rubbing your thigh and watching everyone eye the beta. “Shit, wow. Would you look at that. Look at him minding his own business. Isn’t that cool?” The pack groaned at the quip, Stiles grinning in satisfaction and pecking your neck. You smiled, patting his cheek gently, and ate a fruit cup. Liam didn’t seem to notice the attention was even on him, munching away at a cold ham sandwich from the salad bar.

⠀⠀⠀ “I love you, mouthy spaz.” You whispered, and Stiles smiled toothily against your skin, hugging you into him with a low sigh of content.

⠀⠀⠀ “I know.” he responded breathily, and you felt him flutter his eyes shut. “You have to, or else I’d die.” You rolled your eyes and fought your own smile when you felt his grow a little.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

⠀⠀⠀ Rubbing your temples in a mix of exhaustion and relief of being freed from education for the rest of the day, you opened your legs and slid down the passenger seat. Stiles had given you a ‘secret, never to be shown to the public eye’ second key to Roscoe, just so you didn’t have to wait in the heat or cold of the day for him to get to the jeep. He hopped into the car, tossing his backpack to the backseat like it had insulted him, and drummed his hands against his steering wheel. “What’re you feeling?”

⠀⠀⠀ You sighed, arching your back into his hand sliding across your shoulder blades to massage into the stiff muscles. “A two-cent hooker after a long night from the curb.” Stiles blew an airy laugh from his nose, digging his thumb and palm into the small of your back till you bent over the seat even more. “Or, maybe you after taking the Pacer Test.” A gentle smack to your arm made you laugh, Stiles ceasing the massaging and clicking your seatbelt for you, all the while forgetting his own blissfully. You leant against the door, having learnt to sleep against the unruly bumps and dips from the potholes Stiles sped through by now, skull pressed against the warm glass with the sun’s rays aiding your comfort.

⠀⠀⠀ Stiles kept the radio off, even the police scanner, occasionally peeking over to watch you nap. Eventually, his hand crept back to your back, rubbing it rhythmically. The amount of love the boy had for you was inexplicable.

⠀⠀⠀ An abrupt, sharp braking from Stiles woke you up peacefully, unclicking your seatbelt and about to exit the car, only to be stopped by a locked door. His eyes pleaded with you when you turned to give him a look, finally nodding and shaking your head at his gleeful smile. He swiftly exited Roscoe and went to your now unlocked passenger side, opening his arms and scooping you up to them. He nestled his cheek onto the top of your head, his heart thumping against your arm, particularly skipping a beat when you curled up against him. Forgetting about your backpacks, he kicked your door shut and dug into his pockets for your house key.

⠀⠀⠀ He greeted your parents quietly, sitting down on the couch with you still remaining within his arms. Your mother shut the door with a grin of most expectedness. “You two have a good day?” Stiles nodded, you doing so as well slowly. He cinched his eyebrows together, rubbing his hands across your shoulders and thighs, hoping to get you back to sleep.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

⠀⠀⠀ You awoke to a deeply asleep Stiles above you, his mouth agape and double-chin ever so preciously present. Reaching into your pocket, you pulled out your phone and decided not to move. The two of you probably napped till six, confirming the guess as you heard noises from the kitchen of your dad making dinner, and the quiet clicking of your mom finishing work on her laptop in the armchair beside you two. He snapped awake, jolting against you, from just your slight wiggling, smacking his cotton-mouth open and closed. “I haven’t slept this good since that night when we-” You smacked his chest, hard, and your mom suspiciously looked at the two of you. “watched that Star Wars marathon till 3.” Your heart rested when your mom bought the lie, tucking away the images of Stiles getting literally thrown out by your dad and your mom making you take a pregnancy test.

⠀⠀⠀ “What’s for dinner, dad?” you called out, Stiles stretching his arms out to the sides.

⠀⠀⠀ “Food.” he answered promptly, and you groaned, Stiles ruffling your hair and kissing your forehead. “Easy, Stilinski.” He paused mid-kiss, eyes widened, and you laughed.

⠀⠀⠀ The four of you ate dinner while watching a random movie, and as your parents, your mom before your dad, left, Stiles shifted you to sit in his lap properly, facing you to him. He leaned in, slowly, and the two of you kissed the day away for a while. He rolled circles in your sides. “Shower, now? At mine.” he requested, and you nodded your head in defeat.

⠀⠀⠀ He whooped, and he threw you off his lap before running upstairs to come up with a clever excuse to your parents of why you were staying the night at his. Stiles cheerfully came down the stairs with a bag already packed with your stuff, and you stood. “Let’s go before I change my mind.”

⠀⠀⠀ “You wouldn’t dare. Now, get your cute ass up. Pronto. Right this instant.” You rolled your eyes, hopping up and following him out the door.

⠀⠀⠀ A typical day with Stiles Stilinski, really.

#stiles stilinski #dylan o'brien #teen wolf #fanfiction #fluff

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alittleyellowdinosaur · 5 years ago

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Homemade Cinnamon Rolls Recipe

So i made this here post about how satisfying making my own bread is, and, by my 300 followers, 6 notes on a good day, 0 on personal post standards, it went viral. So i thought I’d give you guys the recipe. It’s a mashup of this recipe, my own shit, and an idea from another recipe that i can’t find again to give them credit. Since i only took proportions from the first one i’m calling this my own recipe. I’m also going to go a bit into bread baking tips and tricks just in case this is your first time making bread and you want to get started on that cottagecore life. Now go bake some fine ass cinnamon rolls folks! ( @good-vibes-by-noel this here’s for you!)

Photo sucks but i couldnt get a better one because they didn’t last the night. Whoops! This is what they’ll look like though!

Time: like 2 hours, give or take, but you can do other shit during most of that.

Makes: 12, frankly giant, cinnamon rolls. good luck eating more than 2 at a time, seriously.

Ingredients:

The Rolls:

1 cup warm milk (microwave in a mug for a minute and you are good. Any milk is fine, but i used fat free)

1 tablespoon dry instant yeast (about one and a quarter packets, but one should be fine, you just might need to extend rising times if it’s not working well)

2 tablespoons granulated sugar

1 teaspoon salt

1/2 cup (1 stick) and 3 tablespoons of melted butter (*** VERY IMPORTANT - melt the 3tbs and the 1/2 cup SEPARATELY or you’ll throw everything off.)

1 large egg

3 cups all-purpose flour (bread flour works too

1 cup brown sugar

2 tablespoons cinnamon (yes the big ones)

The Icing:

1 cup of icing (powdered) sugar (Starting point - I’ll explain later))

1 Tablespoon of milk (Starting point)

1 teaspoon of vanilla

Directions:

I added lots of bread fun facts to help you guys with other bread making endeavors, so it got long and is now under the cut!

Activate the yeast. Warm the milk up for a minute in the microwave, and mix that, the white sugar, and the yeast together. leave to rest for 5-10 minutes. you want it to look like the photo on the bottom, but if it isn’t as good, don’t freak out because you’ll be fine. Mine never look that good tbh, there’s a reason i was so proud. Bread Fun Fact: Less of a fun fact then just some advice, but buy the bulk jars of instant yeast. They keep forever in the fridge (always store yeast in the fridge btw) and are so much cheaper than buying packets. if you intend to make bread a lot, it’s the best way to save money. Plus, most recipes give tablespoon/teaspoon amounts, not packet amounts.

Once it looks all nice and foamy, add in the flour. On top of the flour, add the salt, egg, and 3 tablespoons of butter. You need to keep these as separate from the yeast as you can until you begin mixing - especially the salt, which will outright kill it. Always keep the salt and yeast separate guys!! Bread Fun Fact: Because you are adding eggs, butter, and milk instead of water, this type of bread is called an enriched bread. These breads are softer, fluffier, usually sweeter, and more complicated as they can take longer to rise. Yay! Doughs without these things are called Lean breads and include ciabatta, focaccia, and baguettes i think.

Mix and knead the dough. If you have a stand mixer, use the dough hook (the one that looks like Captain Hook got robbed), and mix it together until the dough forms on medium, then crank it for like 5 minutes on medium-high. If you are making this at 7 in the morning like i was and can’t wake people up, mix it by hand until combined, then knead for 10 ish minutes to build up the gluten strands on a clean table dusted with a bit of flour. The best method I’ve found is to stretch it out with the heel of your hand, roll it up, then rotate and repeat. Over and over and over.... Bread Fun Fact: You can tell you’ve done enough kneading by using the Window Pane Test. If you can stretch the dough far enough that you can see light through it without it breaking, then you’ve got enough gluten. That or go until it doesn’t look like it’s got cellulite anymore and is nice and smooth. The other test is if it bounces back when you poke it a bit. Also, when helping with kneading, for enriched breads use flour, for lean breads use oil!

Now comes the waiting. Grease the bowl you mixed in with some butter, and plop the ball of dough in. Cover with tight plastic to prevent air getting in (and creating a crusty skin that will inhibit rising), and a clean towel, and leave in a patch of sun or a warm place for 1 hour to rise.

Before you go play video games/do work/fuck around, mix together the brown sugar and cinnamon and melt the 1/2 cup of butter. Now go have fun.

When you get back, you should have a big bowl of risen dough. Now punch the sucker. Yes, you heard me, punch it. It’s called knocking it back and is absolutely essential in dough making. Now, pat the dough out into a 12 inch by 18 inch rectangle, approximately. Don’t use a rolling pin because it’ll mess the air up. Put about a quarter of the melted butter over the top, and then however much of the brown sugar - cinnamon mix you feel like (i put enough so that, when patted down a bit, it covered the whole thing evenly.)

Roll the rectangle up along the longer edge. It helps to tack down one side by smearing it a bit onto the table. it just makes it easier to get a tight roll and helps the seam idk. Cut off the edges to get a clean roll, then cut 12 rolls, about an inch each or so. Bread Fun Fact: If you use a sharp knife, you are going to smush your rolls. The better way is to get tooth floss, though i highly advise not a mint one. Push it under the roll where you want the cut, cross over the two ends in your hands, and pull until you’ve sliced off the roll. makes it much neater and not smushy.

Pour the rest of the cinnamon sugar mixture and butter into the bottom of a 13in by 9in pan, be it glass, metal, whatever you have is fine. Mix it together and make sure the sludge of deliciousness covers the whole bottom. Plop each off the rolls in there, in a 3 by 4 set up, cover with plastic and the towel, leave in sun, and go fuck off for a half hour or so. Honestly i never leave it that long because mine always get massive, so for me it’s always more like 15-20 minutes. Really just wait till they balloon up and fill the pan a bunch, but don’t worry if it’s not perfect because they’ll grow again in the oven.

At some point while they are rising, preheat the oven to 350 degrees (Fahrenheit). When you deem them risen enough and the oven is fully heated (YOU REALLY DO WANT TO PREHEAT IT THIS TIME GUYS TRUST ME ON THIS. if you dont you’ll probably burn your bread before it’s cooked), and bake for about 20-30 minutes. i know that’s a big iffy point, but pretty much just keep checking after around 20 minutes until they are colored brown on top and smell like heaven. (i’m going to be really honest with you, I’ve never baked them at 350 degrees, only at 325 like the recipe for the dough said, but that recipe is a liar because it took me a solid 30 minutes or more when it said that it should take 14. The op was eating undercooked bread guys. So do 350, but i can’t honestly tell you the right timing because i’ve only turned it up halfway through before) Bread Fun Fact: Because enriched breads, like this recipe, have more sugar than lean breads do, they can sometimes catch in the oven - or color too quickly and burn, when the inside still needs to cook. if this happens, you can always give them a little tin foil hat wherever it’s catching to prevent more coloring while not hindering cooking!

While it’s baking, mix together the icing. The amounts i gave are a starting point, because the icing is something you feel with your heart. add more sugar or more milk until you think you have enough for all 12 rolls and its the consistency you want. I made mine fairly thick so it wouldnt sink in and make the dough soggy, but i also made a shit ton because my family loves the icing. So go with the flow.

When the cinnamon rolls are done, put the icing on and serve warm! Congrats, you’ve made cinnamon rolls entirely homemade, and you’ve now learned some basic bread making facts!! yay!!!

#baking #bread #cinnamon rolls #cottagecore #i need everyone to know my only qualifications in baking is my hyperfocus being baking shows #and trying a shit ton of recipes out because of it #im not an expert but paul hollywood is and i just gave you what he's told me okay paul wouldnt steer me wrong #and it always turns out good so fuck it #recipes #my recipes

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