#i should make peppermint hot cocoa more often. when i actually have peppermint on hand

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

that moment when you’ve had a hell of a day and eat the One Treat You’ve Been Saving as some comfort ;-;;;

anyways i want to be held so bad today

[berrynarrybanana]

Holiday Wishes, Mistletoe Kisses

A/N: This was meant to be a blurb, but I got carried away. I honestly don’t know how I feel about it, but I wanted to post some Christmassy stuff in between now and Deck the Halls, so here’s a little something. It’s basically over a thousand words of Harry pining for some girl he just met. That seems to be my favorite trope, yeah? Anyways, I hope you enjoy and I hope that you all remember that Christmas isn’t about what you have or what you’re able to give, it’s about spending time with the people you love the most. I’m always here for you all if you need me and I love you loads. Thank you! 

Word Count: 5.1K+

Warnings: A little smut, pining, flash forward, ofc

Prompt: “You’re wearing the Santa hat, whether you like it or not” | Taken from this post here! 

It wasn’t that Harry hated Christmas. 

He loved spending time with his family, drinking mulled wine and talking shit with his Mum and Sister on the couch until the morning light. He loved the Christmas cookies that everyone seemed to bake just for him. Every single one of his friends would wrap them up in cute, candy cane striped cellophane bags with a little bow as if they were worried he’d been deprived of sweets. He loved the warmth that enveloped him when he stepped into any building, dodging the cold winter winds and brutal snowflakes that hit his skin. He loved most things about the season, but he truthfully hated the actual holiday itself.

He hated the music, each song covered by about twenty different artists, (yet, they always sounded the same, somehow), playing on a loop on every single Christmas station. He hated how rude people were in the shops and on the road, as if their time was more important than anyone else's. He hated the stigma around giving expensive gifts, stressing over the perfect thing to get each of his friends. If he could, he’d give them all something homemade, but he was shit at doing anything crafty. 

His boots crunched against the snow as he walked towards his mother’s front door. 

He let himself in, kicking his shoes off before he removed his scarf and his winter coat. He could hear laughter from the kitchen, Gemma and his Mum giggling far too loud. They must have cracked into the mulled cider a little early, and truthfully, he was jealous. He’d spent the last four hours stuck in traffic listening to white Christmas over and over and over again. He shut the front door as Evie wrapped herself around his legs, her soft purring catching his attention as he glanced down at the black and white kitten. 

“Hiya, darling girl.” He crouched down, scooping her into his arms before he delivered a series of kisses over her head. “Daddy’s missed you, eh. Have you been good for your nan?”

She meowed in response, causing Harry to coo at her before he scratched under her chin. 

“That’s my girl.” He pressed another kiss to the top of her head before setting her back to the ground. 

He knew they would indulge in several cuddle sessions over the next few days, so he wasn’t worried about missing his one and only pet this holiday season. He walked through the house, finding his way into the kitchen where Gemma was tipping back a glass of dark red liquid, and his Mum was rolling out cookie dough with a bright smile on her face. What Harry wasn’t expecting, was the curly haired girl with a cookie cutter in her hand next to his Mum.

“Hello!” He called out, offering a smile as he walked over to the kitchen island. “I see we’ve started having fun already.”

“It took you forever to get here!” Gemma said defensively, picking up a chocolate kiss before tossing it at Harry. “Do you want a drink?”

“Something hot, it’s like the bloody tundra outside.” He shivered at the thought of the harsh wind, his eyes trailing back towards the new girl. 

“Stella makes the best peppermint hot chocolate you’ve ever had in your life.” Gemma groaned out, her eyes rolling back in her head. “She puts peppermint vodka in there.”

“I can make you one if you’d like?” Stella’s voice was soft and painfully american. “We’ve got a slow cooker full of hot chocolate.”

“If you don’t mind.” Harry gave her a smile as he pulled out a stool, sitting next to Gemma. “Nice to meet you, Stella. I’m Harry, by the way.”

“She knows who you are.” Gemma reached over, pinching Harry’s side. “Stella is a new transfer at work. She’s new to England, and we thought we’d show her a proper English Christmas.”

“Stella, love, you should probably find another family to spend Christmas with if you want a proper English Christmas.” Harry snorted. “Ours is half arsed at best.”

“We have a lovely Christmas, thank you.” Anne piped up, flicking flour in Harry’s direction as Stella laughed softly. “Don’t scare the poor thing off, we’ve just made her feel at home.” 

Stella turned her back, walking towards the stove.

“I suppose we do have a good time.” Harry hummed out. “I can’t wait to watch How the Grinch Stole Christmas for the millionth time.” 

“They’ve got an animated one now!” Gemma exclaimed. “We’re going to do a double feature.”

“Lovely.” Harry rolled his eyes. 

Moments later, a steaming mug of hot chocolate laced was placed in front of Harry. 

He looked down at the grinch mug before looking back up at Stella. 

“Thanks.” He offered her a smile, but she merely nodded back at him before taking her place next to Anne again. 

He watched her, sipping at his drink as Gemma and Anne chatted about some Hallmark movie that was meant to premiere at some point during the week. She wasn’t normally the type of girl that he dated, but he had to admit that she was beautiful. Her cheeks were round, a soft blush smeared over them that he assumed came from a makeup product. Her lashes were thick, and long, shadowing her hazel colored eyes. She had thick brows that seemed a little unruly, and plump lips stained with a plum colored lipstick that matched her smoky, purple eyeshadow. He wasn’t a huge fan of the plum color, but he had to admit that it brought out a lot of the warmer tones in her eyes and in her beautiful, brown skin. He also thought that it complimented the lighter strands in her curly brown hair that bounced about everytime she turned her head. 

He tried not to be too obvious with his curious gaze, but he couldn’t help it. He was almost mesmerized by her beauty, but he was more so confused by his attraction to her. She was far too quiet for his taste, her eyes cast down on the cookies she’d been cutting out for the last few minutes while everyone else chatted. 

He watched her place them on the tray carefully, obsessing over how they landed before she reached for the colored icing. He watched her pipe onto the little shapes, her tongue nestling in the corner of her mouth as her unsteady hands worked diligently on the cookies. 

This was a Styles family Christmas, and the Styles were a rowdy and messy bunch. He’d never seen his Mum or Gemma put that much work into sugar cookies before, and it was almost painful to watch her perfect each and every one before she slipped the tray in the oven. He watched her reach for the cheeky little chicken shaped oven timer that Gemma bought when his Mum fist moved into this house. In all of those years, he’d never seen anyone actually use it. 

“Did you hear me, my little turtle dove?” Anne brushed her hand over Harry’s back as he sipped at his cocoa. “They’re calling for a huge storm this weekend, are you packed for that?”

“I left some stuff here the last time I was around.” He turned his head, smiling back at her. “I think I should be fine if I get stuck with you lot.” 

“Good.” She nodded, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “I’ve missed you.” 

“Missed you too, Mumma.” He wrapped an arm around her back, pulling her into a hug. 

The warm scent of vanilla and musk greeted his senses, flooding him with comfort and nostalgic memories of cuddling with Mum on the couch. He missed having her around him. He missed having his best friend around to comfort him when he needed it the most. When he let go of her, his heart sank a little in his chest. She pressed a kiss to the top of his head before moving back to work on more cookie dough. 

“Why are you making so many cookies?” He asked, brows furrowing as he brushed his fingers over the sickly green mug with the cartoon characters face on it. “Do you plan on feeding an army?”

“No, but Stella suggested that we take some down to the local homeless shelter on Christmas Eve.” Anne smiled over at the girl. “That’s her family's Christmas tradition, and since she’s not with them this year, we thought we’d make it happen for her here.”

“Thank you again, for agreeing to this.” Stella smiled at Anne. “It really means the world to me, and I can’t thank you enough.”

“You’re a part of the family now, dear.” Anne teased. “Even if you’re not spending Christmas with us, this little tradition of yours has been officially integrated into our own Christmas tradition. We’ll always have a little bit of Stella with us during the Holiday’s now, eh.”

Stella laughed at that, reaching her arms out to wrap Anne in a hug. 

Harry almost felt a little jealous at how seamlessly she fit in here. 

“If you keep staring at her, she’s gonna want to run back to America.” Gemma nudged her elbow into his side. “We get it, she’s hotter than you.”

“Oh, shut up.” Harry rolled his eyes at Gemma as she smirked. “I wasn’t staring.”

“Okay, Casanova.” She snorted. “Whatever you say. 

**

Harry wasn’t sure why he was hard. 

He just wanted to close his eyes and go the fuck to sleep. 

After a long day of travel, and an even longer evening filled with Harry pulling down Christmas decorations from the attic, he just wanted to sleep. He wasn’t looking forward to taking the annual trip to the Christmas Tree Farm tomorrow. Since Robin passed, Harry was the only man in the family, which meant that he often had to do the heavy lifting. He found that most of his strength lay in his core, despite the amount of lifting he’d done to buff up his arms, and he wasn’t looking forward to tossing a tree on top of his car while everyone watched. 

Truthfully, that was the worry that should have been plaguing his mind as he lay in bed. Instead, his mind was lost in hazel colored waves that crashed on dark plum shores. He couldn’t stop thinking about Stella’s eyes or her perfectly shaped lips. He spent most of his night watching her drink from a wine glass, her cheeks turning a shade darker with each joke that she shared with his family. If there was one thing that he was shocked about, it was the dry humor that tumbled from her perfect plum colored lips. She was a funny girl, despite being quiet, and he laughed at every single joke she told without shame. 

As he shifted his about, trying to avoid any further thoughts about her lips, the tip of his cock brushed against the warm flannel of his pajama pants. He let out a throaty groan, reaching down to push his palm into the crotch of his pants to soothe the pressure building in his lower belly. He couldn’t jack off to the thought of Gemma’s new friend, it would be awful, and it would surely land him on the naughty list. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying his best not to picture her lipstick staining his lower belly, his upper thighs, and eventually...the shaft of his cock. But after a few minutes of trying not to think about it, that was the only thing he could see behind closed eyes. 

With an annoyed grumble, he dipped his hand into his pajama pants, tugging his cock out while his free hand pushed the band of the pants down his hips. He licked over his dry lips, making a mental note to buy some chapstick tomorrow as he gave himself one, swift stroke. He bit the inside of his cheek, trying not to moan as he brushed the pad of his thumb over the weeping slit of his cock. He was pathetic, dripping down his cock over a girl that he barely knew. He couldn’t believe that he was being that guy right now, tugging at his cock desperately to the thought of a beautiful girl on her knees for him. He wanted so badly to have her there, whispering filthy words in that gentle tone she had, encouraging him to cum on her tongue. 

When he did cum, her name spilled from his lips. 

His chest was heaving as he came down, the tinkling of Stella’s laughter filling his ears. 

Seconds later, he heard her bid goodnight to Gemma before the door next to his own shut. 

He was totally fucked for this girl. 

**

The next morning, he didn’t expect to see Stella sitting at the breakfast bar when he came downstairs. 

He stopped in the doorway, his cheeks growing warm as he looked over her sweater covered back. Thoughts of her name tumbling from his lips last night flooded back as he looked at her. She was wearing a lavender colored, cable knit sweater, and her curls were tied up in a messy ponytail on top of her head. Most of the curls had fallen out, covering up some of her neck alongside her fingers. Her cheek was propped on her palm, her gaze focused on her laptop as she lifted a mug of steaming liquid up to her mouth with her other hand. 

Harry cleared his throat, walking toward the stove so he could put the kettle on. No one else in the house would be up for hours, but Harry couldn’t turn off his internal alarm clock no matter how he tried. He also hoped that he might find a moment of peace from the very girl sitting in his Mother’s kitchen. She haunted his dreams, her face playing on the silver screen in his mind all night long. He hated how infatuated he was with this woman that he barely even knew. 

“Morning.” She spoke up first, her voice scratchy and tired. “Did you sleep well?”

“Splendid, yeah.” He nodded, filling the kettle with water. “You?” 

“I’ve slept better, but that’s to be expected.” She said softly. “I spent a little bit of time on a skype call with my brother’s, so I was up longer than expected.” 

“But you’re up fairly early this morning, aren’t you?” He put the kettle on the stovetop before turning around, his eyes landing on hers. “Why’s that?”

“I wake up this early anyways.” She smiled at him. “I usually like to go for a walk in the morning to wake myself up.”

“That’s nice.” He lifted his hand, scratching at the stubble on his jaw. “I usually like to go for a swim or a run in the morning, too.”

“Where do you swim?” She asked. 

“There’s a men’s swimming club not too far from my home in London.” He said. “It’s freezing cold, but you get used to it after a while.”

“Jeeze, you swim outside in this weather?” She lifted her head from her palm, her eyes growing wide. “I could never.” 

“It’s an acquired taste.” He chuckled softly. “What are you working on?”

“A new piece for my blog.” She said. “I started out using it as a diary of sorts, but people apparently love reading about the disaster that is my life.”

“I’m sure it’s not all horrible.” He hoped that he sounded encouraging and not rude. “You seem like a lovely, and positive person.”

“I try to be.” She shrugged, reaching for her mug. “I could say the same about you.”

“I try to be.” He smiled at her. “Would you like some breakfast?” 

“Oh, I was actually thinking of popping down to this little bakery Gemma told me about-” 

“Mandeville’s.” His heart picked up, a smile stretching across his lips. “Had my first job there.”

“Yeah, that’s the one.” She laughed, wrapping both hands around her mug as she leaned back in the barstool. “I figured I’d go grab some pastries for everyone. I know it’s kind of a busy day with the Christmas Tree Farm, so I thought it would be best if your Mum didn’t feel the need to cook.”

“She would love that.” Harry said. “Maybe I could go with you? We could both get our walks in, and I can see Mary before she hunts me down and drags me to the bakery.”

“I would love the company.” She smiled. “But enjoy your tea first, I’ll just be working on this until we’re ready to go.”

“Cheers.” He nodded, watching her eyes drop to her computer screen. 

She wasn’t wearing a stitch of makeup this morning, and Harry almost wished that she was. 

He wished that she had covered up her beautiful, freckle covered skin so that he didn’t fall harder for her beautiful face. He wished that she was hiding away those little blemishes that made him swoon, because she was actually a human after all, not some angel sent down from heaven to torture him. He wished that she covered those beautiful lips in that plum lipstick again so that he could imagine kissing it off of her. He hated the feeling stirring inside of his belly, the butterflies a tell tale sign of his feelings. 

He had a crush on Stella. 

And there was nothing he could do to stop himself from falling for her. 

**

Stella’s gloves were precious.

They were a bright red, little snowflakes and reindeer stitched into them. 

She offered to let Harry borrow a pair of her gloves, claiming that she’d brought plenty of pairs for the winter, but he politely declined before shoving his hands in his pockets. She looked so cozy, wrapped up in her winter coat with a beanie on top of her head and a matching scarf tied around her neck. Harry wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and cuddle her so that they could both stay nice and toasty on their walk. He wanted to kiss her bare cheeks, paying special attention to each freckle on her skin as the winter sun cast over them. 

He was so infatuated with her that it was almost embarrassing. 

“I can’t even imagine what it was like, growing up in a place like this.” Stella turned her head towards Harry, the tip of her nose a little red. “It’s so picturesque.”

“It’s alright.” He gave her a small smile. “I always wanted to get out when I was a kid.”

“Of course you did, we all do.” She chuckled. “I think everyone should run away for a little while, it really gives you all of the tools you need to really appreciate your hometown when you go back. I don’t know that I’ll ever move back to my hometown, but when I visit it, I feel a little bit more appreciative of the pivotal role it had in raising me.”

“I feel the same way about Cheshire.” Harry nodded. “It’s a big part of who I was, and that helped make me who I am. I wouldn’t be the same without this place.”

“Exactly.” She said. 

“So where exactly are you from?” He asked. “I mean, obviously America-”

“Is it that obvious?” She asked, narrowing her eyes playfully, her lips pursed. “I don’t think it is.”

“It’s a neon, flashing sign above your head kind of obvious, love.” He snorted. “But I can’t place what your accent is.”

“It’s not really an accent.” Stella shrugged, turning her attention back to the sidewalk. “I grew up on the road for most of my life, but my family settled in Georgia when I was about twelve.”

“Interesting.” He said. “How did you like Georgia?” 

“I didn’t, at first.” She laughed. “I hated it so much. I loved being on the road with my family, traveling places like Hawaii and Los Angeles. When we moved to the south, I despised everything about it. It was so plain and boring compared to places we’d lived before. But like I said, moving away has made me learn to love it more when I go back.”

“How long have you been gone?” He asked. 

“About three years.” She said. “I lived in Amsterdam for a year, and then Paris, and now I’m here.”

“Which place is your favorite?” He asked. “Be honest with me, now. You don’t have to say London just because you’re trying to get on my good side.” 

Stella tossed her head back, laughing loudly. 

“I think it’s truthfully London, Harry.” 

His name sounded like honey falling from her lips. 

“Why is that?” He asked. 

“Because I’ve found my chosen family.” She turned back, giving him a smile that thawed out the chill creeping up from his toes. “Starting with Gemma, of course. She was the first person to take me under her wings, and I’m so happy that I have her in my life. Then I started to find other people, and we all became this really close knit group of friends that felt more like family than my actual family does. I don’t know how I’ll ever leave this place.” 

“Maybe you shouldn’t.” He said softly. “Maybe this is home.”

Please don’t go, Stella. 

Stay here with me forever. 

Love me. 

“My contract is up at the end of the year, but we’ll just have to see how things go.” She said. “I might be convinced to stay.”

“Well, I guess I have a lot of work to do.” He chuckled.

“Why are you so keen on me staying?” She asked him, her brows raising as she gave him a knowing smirk. “Do you have a crush on me, Styles?”

His cheeks grew hot against the cold wind. 

“Alright now, don’t let that go to your head.” He grumbled, tucking his neck into his scarf as Stella’s smile grew wider. ���It’s all your bloody fault, you know?”

“What have I done?” She laughed louder. “I’m just me.”

“That’s exactly it.” He let out a breathy chuckle. “You’re you, Stella.”

**

The Christmas Tree Farm was going well. 

That was up until Gemma decided that they absolutely needed to take a family picture in front of the big Christmas tree, Stella included. They had picked up a few little trinkets and such while walking around the market included in the farm. Anne picked up a reindeer headband with bells stitched in, plopping it on her head the second she found it. Gemma found an elf’s hat with little ears attached to the side, putting it on her hair before fussing with her hair. Stella found a crown made of poinsettias that she plopped on top of her curls, the red and gold working perfectly with her red lipstick and gold eyeshadow. Harry, however, wasn’t exactly in the spirit. 

“You’re wearing the bloody santa hat, whether you like it or not!” Gemma shoved it towards him with a frown. “If you stand next to Stella, you’ll like Mr. and Mrs. Claus!” 

“Shut up, Gemma.” Harry sneered, snatching the hat from her hands. “I didn’t tell you about that so you could throw it in my face!” 

“Well, I’m doing it for the greater good of our family photo!” She glared at him. “Put that hat on before I shove it on your head myself.”

“Fine.”

“Are you two alright?” Stella smirked, adjusting her crown on her head as she walked up to Harry and Gemma. “Santa is still putting people on the naughty list you know?” 

“If anyone’s going to be on the naughty list, it’s Harry.” Gemma tossed her arm around Stella’s shoulder with a proud smirk. “He’s being a pain in the arse.”

“Is the hat really necessary to the photo?” He groaned, dropping his head back. 

“Yes.” Stella and Gemma said at the same time. 

“Alright, alright.” He groaned, tugging the hat over his curls. “Are you both happy now?”

“Ecstatic.” Stella smiled brightly at Harry. “I think you look handsome.”

“I’m going to just point out…” Gemma pulled her arm from around Stella, tucking her hands behind her back. “That there’s mistletoe hanging from that piece of wood above your heads.” 

“Gemma-” Harry’s eyes grew wide. 

“And I’m promptly going to walk away.” She smiled at Stella. “Meet us at the tree in ten minutes.” 

“Gemma-” Stella held her hand out as Gemma walked away, her eyes growing just as wide as Harry’s were. “What a sneaky little elf.” 

“Tell me about it.” Harry shifted, adjusting the hat on his head. “Devious little-”

“Well, I guess we can’t break tradition.” Stella looked up at Harry, shuffling forward slowly with a little smirk on her lips. “I mean, what would Santa say if we didn’t kiss under the mistletoe?”

Harry licked over his bottom lip, his fingers twitching. 

“You really want to kiss me?”

“I might.” Stella’s toes were almost touching Harry’s now. “But the question is, do you want to kiss me?”

“I do, yeah.” He nodded. “I’ve been thinking about it ever since I laid eyes on you, Stella.”

“Well, what are you waiting for?” She raised her brows. “Now is your chance, Mr. Grinch, lay one on me.”

Harry lifted his hands, pressing them to Stella’s face hesitantly before he lowered his lips to hers in a soft kiss. It was a gentle peck, one that anyone would share underneath the mistletoe, but Harry wanted more from Stella. It seemed that she wanted more as well, her arms sliding around his neck as she pressed up on her toes. He let his hands fall to her waist as the kiss grew more intense, his hands holding onto her tightly as she brushed her tongue over his lower lip. He tried his best not to smile into the kiss, letting her have what she wanted by parting his lips. When her tongue slipped over his, he let out a tiny moan, gripping her hips tighter. 

“Get a room, you two!” Harry groaned, pressing his forehead to Stella’s. 

“Gemma, I swear to god-” Harry turned his head, whipping his santa hat off before he threw it in her direction. “Go bother someone else!” 

Stella laughed, ducking her forehead down to Harry’s chest as he rubbed his thumbs over her side gently. He felt her body shaking underneath his hands, his heart hammering in his chest when he realized just how close they actually were. He turned his head back, lifting a hand up to guide Stella’s chin up. He pressed his lips to hers once, twice, three more times before she pressed her palms to Harry’s chest. 

“We’ll never stop if we don’t move away from the mistletoe.” Stella whispered. “And I think Gemma might physically pull us apart if we miss that Christmas picture.”

“Let it be known that I’m only partaking in this picture because I want to stand next to you for as long as I can.” Harry smiled. “I think I have a little more than a crush on you, Stella.” 

“I think I have more than a crush on you, too.”

**

“Madeline, stop right there.” Stella let out a frustrated sigh as she looped her arm under the baby carrier, her eyes falling down to the sleeping infant. “Milo, promise Mumma that you’ll listen when you get to that age?”

“Give him here.” Harry brushed a kiss over Stella’s temple, his hand massaging her lower back gently. “You go catch up with speed racer, okay? I’ll be right behind you with the baby and the diaper bag.”

“Thank you.” Stella turned her head, puckering her lips out. “I love you.” 

“I love you.” He hummed out. “And our beautiful babies, even if one of them has a death wish and two left feet.” 

Stella snorted out a laugh, pulling her arm from the carrier before she stuffed her hands in her pockets. “I better go help her up the stairs.”

“Please, we don’t need a repeat of last year.” Harry smiled. 

“Yeah, I would like to avoid a trip to A&E this year.” Stella snorted. 

He watched Stella walk over to an antsy Madeline, her pigtails bouncing about as she jumped from foot to foot in excitement. Harry chuckled softly at his daughter, amused by her excitement. He was happy that she found so much joy in Christmas, just like her Mother did. He watched Stella hold a hand out, waiting for Madeline to take it before they both conquered the brick steps outside of his Mum’s house. When they got to the top, Stella lifted Madeline up, kissing over her cheeks as their daughter giggled. Harry lifted Milo’s car seat from the base, his eyes falling down to the six month old with hazel eyes and soft cheeks just like his Mother’s. 

“We’ve got our hands full with those two, mate.” Harry pulled the soft, wintery blue blanket up to Milo’s chin, tucking it around his shoulders so that he would stay warm. “Gonna keep us both on our toes, I know it.” 

Milo cooed up at him, causing Harry to smile wider before he ducked his head down to kiss his son's soft cheeks. 

“Let’s get you into Nan’s before you turn into a popsicle, my love.” Harry said. “Mumma won’t be happy if we have to spend Christmas thawing you out.”

As Harry made his way up the stairs, he couldn’t help but remember five Christmases ago. 

He was walking up the exact same steps on his own, unaware of the magic that was waiting inside for him. He was unaware that the girl Gemma brought home for Christmas would one day be his wife, and the mother of his two beautiful children. He had no idea that they would spend long nights together, planning their future and holding each other tight. He opened the front door to his Mum’s house, smiling at the sound of Madeline telling his Mother a story with animated gestures, her curly pigtails bouncing around as Stella tried to wrangle her jacket off. 

“And then Daddy told me we could get a puppy next year if I was good enough!” Madeline squealed out as Harry shut the door. 

He dodged the steely gaze he got from Stella after she heard the word puppy.

“Sorry.” He mouthed over at her, causing her to shake her head as she tried to fight off a smile. 

“You’re a menace.” She mouthed back. “But I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” He said it outloud, his heart soaring in his chest. 

Stella gave him a heart warming smile, Madeline’s coat still in her hands. 

Seconds later, Milo let out a tiny cry causing Harry to snap back into dad mode. 

He rested the carseat on the ground, carefully pulling his son out before pressing a kiss to his chubby little cheeks. As if Gemma could sense his presence, she barreled into the living room with her eyes set on Milo. 

“There’s my little man.” She held her hands out, wiggling them as Harry rolled his eyes. “You get to see him every day, Harry. Pass him over to his auntie.” 

“Fine.” He rolled his eyes. “Please be careful with him, I kind of like this one.”

“Piss off.” Gemma snorted out, sliding Milo onto her hip before pressing a bright red kiss mark into his forehead. “Has Daddy told you that without auntie Gem, you wouldn’t exist?” 

“Gemma-” 

“Can you believe that?” She looked up at Harry, a hint of something nostalgic and genuine sparkling in her green eyes. “If I’d never brought Stella to family Christmas, we wouldn’t have two beautiful babies to dote over every year.”

“I can’t even begin to imagine what life would be like without them.” He whispered. “Thank you, Gemma.”

“Harry, I really didn’t-”

“Gemma.” He said her name sternly, pressing his palm to her bicep. “Thank you so much, from the bottom of my heart. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” She said softly, her eyes watering. “Now, if you could do me a favor and bring a hot friend around, I’d really appreciate it.”

“I’ll see what I can manage.” He let out a wet chuckle, his own eyes watering. 

“What are we managing?” Stella wrapped her arms around Harry. 

“We owe Gem a favor.” He sniffled, turning head to press a kiss to Stella’s forehead. 

“Why are you crying, baby?” Stella frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing at all.” He pressed his lips to hers, softly brushing his nose against the tip of hers as his. “Just so incredibly grateful to have you in my life, that’s all.”

“You’re so sappy around the holiday’s.” Stella brushed her palm over his belly. “I love you, Mr. Styles.” 

“I love you, too, Mrs. Styles.” He said. “Merry Christmas, Darling.”

“Merry Christmas.” 

[writtenonreceipts]

ACOTAR, Feysand ~1.7 words, just a little thing for the holidays.

Home for the Holiday

A fire cackled happily in the hearth as Feyre moved around the living room of the house.  She strung garland from the fireplace, keeping the ends from the sparks that fluttered out on occasion.  Lining the mantle were stocking hooks and ceramic snowmen.  

Leaning over one of the half empty plastic bins, Feyre pulled out a few cheap decorative pillows declaring Let it Snow! and Ho! Ho! Ho!

They were the same pillows from years past.  Ones that should most certainly be tossed out and exchanged for new ones, but these were the first decorations her sisters and her had purchased after their parents died.  And Feyre couldn’t bring herself to toss them out just yet.  Besides, Nesta might kill her if she tried.

“Okay, the hot cocoa is ready!” Elain called out from the kitchen.  

Feyre glanced over to see Elain poke her head around the corner.  She wore a terrible disarray of mismatched pajamas combined with an apron that had reindeer prancing around on it.

“Thanks, Elain,” Feyre said, she smiled and turned back to the oil painting she had made last year of an angel.

“You want your usual peppermint?” Elain asked, her painfully kind smile alluding to something akin to pity.

“Sure,” Feyre said, if only to get Elain to stop making that face at her.

Elain disappeared and Feyre sighed heavily.

No matter what Feyre had tried the past few weeks, nothing seemed to put her in the mood for the holidays.  No amount of baking, shopping, decorating, family time had made a difference.

All because her boyfriend couldn’t be there for the holiday.  He’d recently accepted a job promotion, which was wonderful, but it required him to move out of Veleris and to Hybern.  Once, Rhysand had sworn he would never leave Veleris, the city he loved so much, but Amarantha had made a far too appealing offer apparently.

Feyre took a deep breath.  At least they’d managed to skype yesterday.  It wasn’t the same of course.  Christmas Eve without him was turning to be unbearable and Elain’s doe-eyed stare was not helping.

Maybe she should just go to bed.

“Merry Christmas!” Nesta called out.  She entered the house with a loud bang, followed by a curse. “Hell.  I might have broken Lucien’s present.  Oh well.”

“Be nice!” Elain yelled.  She rounded the corner with a giant mug that she handed to Feyre before going to help relieve Nesta of some of her many bags. “Geez, Nes.  How much crap do you have.”

“Some of it’s Cassian and Azriel’s,” Nesta grumbled.  She flipped her braid over one shoulder as she hurried the rest of the way into the house and dumped the bags on the couch. “They had something to take care of.  Probably a prank.  I wouldn’t be surprised if Cassian tried to stuff himself down the chimney.”

“Maybe he should,” Elain mused, “it might actually cheer Feyre up.”

“I’m fine,” Feyre insisted.  She punctuated her words by taking a long sip of cocoa, whipping cream staining her upper lip. “We’ll skype all day tomorrow...when he’s not in a meeting.”

“Who does that woman think she is, not letting her employees have time off?” Nesta said.  She pulled presents from the bags and began arranging them beneath the tree. “I mean I know we don’t really celebrate Christmas, but it’s a holiday.  It’s family time.”

“He’s the project leader for this really important account,” Feyre sighed. “He loves his job.”

“He loves you more,” Nesta said.

The words were so sudden and unexpected that it took Feyre a moment to register them.

“What do you mean?” she asked her older sister.  

Neta shrugged as she finished placing presents under the tree.

There was nothing else to say on the topic as Elain demanded a sister picture, followed by a heated discussion of which Christmas movies they watch first.  It was barely eight o’clock, but they all seemed ready to delve into whatever tradition they could get their hands on.  Or maybe it was just Elain and Nesta trying to distract Feyre from Rhysands absence.

While they were in the middle of one movie, Lucien arrived.  He’d finished up his shift as a nurse in the ER earlier than expected.

“We’re just getting to the good part!” Elain told him as he came over to sit on the floor just in front of her.  Despite there being plenty of space on the couch, he still was in the habit of avoiding being closer to Nesta then necessary.

“Where are the others?” Lucien asked. “There’s a storm coming in.  It started snowing while I was on my way into the city.”

“What?” Nesta demanded sitting up straighter.  She paused the movie and looked at Lucien. “It’s snowing?”

Feyre looked to the front window, where indeed, snow could be seen in the distant street lights.  A white Christmas for certain.

“I’m sure they’ll be fine,” Lucien was saying.

Nesta was having no part of that, however.  She had her phone out in an instant and was calling Cassian.

“He knows how to drive in the snow, Nes,” Feyre said.  Her sister held up a hand to silence her.

Rolling her eyes, Feyre stood and gathered empty mugs of hot chocolate to take to the kitchen.  Apart from the tree and the small tea lights dangling over the kitchen counter, the house was dark.  But not in the miserable sort of way.  This was the kind of dark that exuded warmth and hope.  

The fire had died down hours ago and was not smoldering, keeping the house toasty.

As she set the empty mugs in the sink, Feyre looked out the window just above and watched the snow falling in thick folds through the night.  It made her all the more grateful for being inside right now, but she just couldn’t get over the seed of loneliness in her heart.  

She couldn’t cry about it now or else Elain and Nesta would try and cheer her up and it would ruin their Christmas Eve.  Rubbing a hand over her face, Feyre filled the empty mugs with water so they would be easier to clean.

Just then the front door burst open and Cassian’s booming laugh broke the silence.

“Merry Christmas!” He shouted.

In the living room, Feyre could hear feet pounding and knew Nesta was jumping up to engulf her boyfriend in a hug.  She listened as boots were kicked off and Cassian made a loud noise of pain, likely in response to a punch from Nesta.

“Where have you guys been?” Elain asked.

Cassian didn’t respond.  She heard when Azriel entered and took his sweet time to close the door behind him.  She would need to put on a thicker pair of socks.

Making sure her eyes were clear, Feyre rounded the corner from the kitchen. 

“Do you guys want some hot chocolate?” She asked and then stopped in her tracks.

Because not only were Cassian and Azriel there grinning like five-year-olds but a third person was there too.

Feyre slapped a hand over her mouth to keep from screaming, because there disheveled and jetlagged and still breathtakingly handsome was Rhysand.

“Merry Christmas,” he said.

Unable to hold herself back, Feyre ran to him, flinging herself in his arms.  He caught her easily and held her tightly against him.  Tears leaked from Feyre’s eyes as she buried her nose in his neck.  Despite the long three months apart--his touch, his scent, everything was so, so familiar.

“What are you doing here?” She whispered, tears unabashedly slipping down her cheeks. “I thought you said you’d get fired if you came back.”

Rhysand cupped her face in his hands beaming down at her with his brilliant violet eyes.

“It’s hard to fire someone when they’ve already quit,” Rhysand said.  He gave her a lopsided grin and shrugged.

“You what?” Feyre gaped at him. “This is your dream job, Rhys.”

“Nah,” he said with a shake of his head.  “Not really.”

Around them, their friends and family got distracted by other things to allow the couple time alone.  Someone started the movie back up and a Christmas song was playing in the background.  

Feyre fisted her hands in Rhysands jacket, unwilling to release him yet.  She still couldn’t believe that he was here before her.  Nor could she fully grasp what he was telling her.

“I couldn’t keep working there,” Rhysand said.  “Not for her.  Not in that place.  Not so far from you.”

Feyre bit her bottom lip, shaking her head. “You love your job.”

Rhys’ response was automatic. “I love you more.”

No matter how often she heard them, the words still sent a thrill through her.  She laughed lightly and looked away from him to where Azriel was stoking the fire and Cassian drew Nesta in his arms as they sat on the couch.  Elain leaned her head on Lucien’s shoulder as she mouthed the words along to the movie that played in the background.

The house was full of love and family for the first time in a long time.  Feyre had spent so long searching for these feelings of peace and comfort and now she had them.  She didn’t want to do anything to alter them--to diminish them.

But she also couldn’t let Rhys walk away from his work.

“Rhys,” she began.

His warm hand slid to cup her chin, gently tugging it up.  It took her a moment to meet his gaze.  Mostly because she was, again, tearing up.

“Everything about that job was tearing us apart,” he said as he leaned his forehead against hers, “and I refuse to let that happen any more.”

Feyre surged forward and kissed him.  There was so much they needed to figure out now.  So much to talk about and plan.  But for now, she was content to kiss him.  Content to be with him, with her family.

“I love you,” she murmured against his lips.

“Merry Christmas, Feyre darling,” he said.

And it was.  It was a glorious night together with snow falling down outside, the fire roaring in the hearth, and they were all together.

.end.

#

thanks for reading!

tags: using my general tags

@tottenhamboys20  @more-espresso-less-depresso-xx @bamchickawowow @ladywitchling @ireallyshouldsleeprn @courtofjurdan @sassys-world @sleeping-and-books @superspiritfestival 

@my-fan-side  @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln

[cowboyshit]

Only for the Holidays (pt 3)

Ship: Adam “Hangman” Page and Ivy (OFC) Summary: Adam and Ivy cross paths at a mutual friend’s holiday party and hit it off, both admitting they’ve grown tired of constantly being asked about having a partner at the various holiday events they have to attend. They come to an agreement to pretend to date for the holidays to get their friends and family off their backs, but neither of them admit that they’ve had an attraction to each other from the beginning. Will these feelings come to a head? Or will the pair be able to stick to their original plan and only get through the holidays together? Rating: general/fluff Length: 5,484 words part THREE of THREE (part one, part two), the fic can also be read in it’s entirety on ao3 (here)

author’s note: and alas! the final installment of this little fake-dating series I wrote for viv’s @12daysofchristmas​ challenge! I hope you guys enjoy the finale to this sweet little story, it was nice to write something so warm and fluffy for the holidays even if I was writing it all by the seat of my pants and didn’t have anything planned LOL

Ivy’s phone chimed, indicating a new text message had come through. Pausing in wrapping the last of the gifts she had left, she leaned over and grabbed it to look at the screen. There was a new text message from Adam. A smile immediately turned the corners of her mouth and she quickly opened their text conversation.

How’s your voice doing?

She laughed and immediately tapped out a reply. Better. I actually have one today! 

She had lost her voice while screaming at the live Dynamite show his friends invited her to a couple days ago. She’d never been one of the kids who watched wrestling growing up and knew only vaguely what it was about, but she’d had an even better time than she expected. The show they’d put on was fast and full of stunts and surprises Ivy would have never expected. They’d also been absolutely right about it being fun to watch ringside, though she’d had to fight through nerves any time the camera men pointed those large cameras her way. She’d screamed so much by the time she woke up the next morning she’d all but lost her voice.

Watching Adam perform in the ring had been something else entirely. The things he was able to do astonished her. He had to explain what all the moves were called after the match as she excitedly babbled backstage, but he’d seemed like he was glowing when he had. Her favorite had been the “flippy thing he did in the middle” (the shooting star press) and the “flippy thing he did off the pole” (the moonsault off the ring post). She liked the way his blond curls fluffed out and floated, catching the white lights that lit the ring as he maintained control and soared through the air. The athleticism and strength he possessed was amazing. She remembered her delighted surprise when he caught his opponent mid-leap, carried him to the center of the ring, tossed him over and popped up in a smooth kip up that had her eyes gone wide. She’d seen his muscles when she caught herself admiring him, but she hadn’t realized just how strong he was.

Her phone chimed again and distracted her from daydreaming about watching him shirtless and sweaty, getting riled up in the ring. She felt suddenly warm and blushed, looking down at his message.

What are you up to tonight?

They’d been doing this a lot lately. Just texting idly throughout their days, even though her family party wasn’t until tomorrow night. It had started with her asking questions about what to wear to a wrestling show and him giving her details for where she’d need to go, but they always sort of fell into carrying the conversation beyond that. He was just… easy to talk to.

Easy on the eyes, too.

Ivy shook her head at herself and sent him a reply. Wrapping up the last of the gifts to take over tomorrow night. 

Oh shoot, was I supposed to get something for your mom?

Ivy couldn’t help but smile. You’re a brand new “boyfriend” she’s never met before, remember? She doesn’t even know about your existence, you don’t have to get her anything. Besides, the family does a big gift exchange cause there’s too many people to individually buy for, and you and I have a joint gift I already bought.

What did we get for the gift exchange? Another quick reply. The notifications were popping up that he read her message as soon as she sent it, which meant he had their conversation actively open.

Ivy opened her camera app and snapped a picture of the still-to-be-wrapped box set full of all the tools necessary to make delicious hot cocoa, as well as peppermint bark, a little bottle of peppermint schnapps and one of chocolate liqueur. She sent the picture to him and typed: A giftset to make spiked hot cocoa! 

What are the rules on getting your own gift in the gift exchange? That sounds good. Never spiked my cocoa with peppermint before.

Ivy’s fingers jumped quick to type her message: Really? I don’t do it often since I just like cocoa by itself, but it’s pretty tasty! I’ll have to make it for you some time. She clicked send before reading it back over, then looked at the message and felt her eyes go wide. She should make it for him sometime? When? When they were at her family’s big gettogether, pretending to date so her family wouldn’t make her feel bad for being single? Or when they supposedly “broke up” a few weeks later?

His reply didn’t come back as immediately as the others did. Worry twisted in her stomach.

That would be nice, I’d like that. His reply chimed back. He was just being polite, obviously. She sent a little smiling emoji in reply and closed their conversation, setting her phone aside as she decided to distract herself by finishing wrapping up gifts. After, she could pick what she’d be wearing tomorrow night to the party. Of course she’d been silly to think she could avoid catching some sort of feelings, even a passing infatuation for a cute, sweet, blond-haired cowboy. He clearly hadn’t (she remembered his playful promise that they wouldn’t fall for each other) and she wasn’t going to make him uncomfortable by pursuing something he clearly didn’t feel.

When her phone stayed dark and no further messages came through to carry on their conversation, Ivy knew she was right.

**********

He’d already been nervous the whole day leading up to when he was going to pick Ivy up at her place, but seeing her coming out of the house in her pretty red holiday dress made his mouth go dry. He was a step behind climbing out of the cab to go around and pop the door open for her like a gentleman ought to, too caught up with staring at her walk down the steps of her porch. His fingers curled around the handle as she waited by the passenger side of his truck, rocking a little in her heels. Her smile picked up as she thanked him for opening her door. Adam smiled, but still had to look away from her for a moment.

She was so damn pretty… but it wasn’t just physical. Something had changed for him that night she came out to see him wrestle. He’d felt different in the ring. More energized. He hadn’t been able to stop grinning as he watched her excitedly talk about everything she’d liked afterwards. He’d asked her question after question just to keep her talking. Adam made her tell him everything she liked and didn’t like about the entire night and had laughed as he explained what the different lingo meant. They’d ordered late night food to Daily’s Place and stayed up talking with each other and sometimes with the other wrestlers who were still lingering about.

The next morning he woke up and he missed her. None of this was fake, not any more. Not for him, anyways. Her promise to make him spiked hot cocoa sometime had sat on his mind all night, and it popped up again as he climbed back into the cab and pulled away from the curb. Was it a joke he wasn’t supposed to look too far into? Was she just being nice? Or was that her way of telling him she thought they should keep seeing one another?

This night, her family’s party, was meant to be the last time they were technically together. Every minute that ticked by was one more they wouldn’t have… unless she liked him the way he liked her. Adam just needed to find the right time to ask her. Maybe he’d wait until after the party, he thought, glancing over at her and smiling as she checked her lipstick in the visor mirror. Yeah, that sounded fair. They’d have a good time tonight and in a week or so, he’d reach out and see how she was and find some way to bring it up, even if every time he thought about how much he liked her he got butterflies in his stomach and felt like his tongue swelled up.

She gave him the last of the directions and he slowed his truck as they pulled up to a country home set on at least a good acre of land. The large two-story home was glowing warm out its many windows and was strung up in pretty, twinkling lights. When he parked, he noticed just how many cars were around them.

“Your family really doesn’t mess around, huh?” She’d warned him that her family went all out for the holidays, all the generations rotating households for hosting each year. This year just so happened to be the year her parents were hosting.

“They really don’t,” she said with a laugh as they walked side-by-side up the walkway leading to the porch. Automatic, Adam’s hand reached and curled around hers. She slid her eyes toward him and then smiled and looked at all the cars they were passing, starting to mutter to herself who all had already showed up.

“These are all your relatives?” Adam wasn’t unfamiliar with big family gatherings - his entire upbringing had been Sunday lunches at his grandma’s with all the family in attendance - but he hadn’t anticipated this many people.

“Yeah,” she laughed. “Grandma and Grandpa had eleven kids and each of those kids has gotten married and has kids and every one of their kids except for one have had their own kids. Hell, there’s even a new great-grandbaby this year.”

“Wow,” Adam laughed and shook his head, walking up the porch steps and feeling his nerves rise inside. 

“The only one who hasn’t had grandkids?” She asked as they stopped in front of the door, her brow arching. “My mom. Because I haven’t had any, and neither has my brother. So… just be ready in case she decides the first time meeting you is the right moment to start slipping baby name ideas to you.”

Adam chuckled. “Thank you for the warning.”

“Alright, brace yourself.” She smiled and turned the knob to open the large wood door with its pretty glass-front window design. 

Immediately there was warmth and laughter and underneath the mix of chatter was the soft sounds of low-volume classic Christmas music. String lights hung around the home offered lovely soft yellow lighting, with red ribbons and garland all around. It was beautiful enough to be seen on television, or so Adam thought. As he looked around the living area he tried to picture it without the holiday decorations, the home Ivy grew up in. What kind of kid had she been? Was she bold and adventurous or careful and shy? He looked over at her profile and realized their hands were still clasped. 

The nearest people greeted Ivy as she passed and she only took her hand from his to give hugs, catching up with quick questions of how everyone was doing and introducing Adam as they went. By the time he met the sixth or seventh person he realized he was already getting names mixed up. Adam cursed himself and glanced back from where they’d came, squinting as he looked at the faces he’d seen and trying to remember what had been said when they’d been introduced to him not even a minute ago.

“There you are sweetheart! Come here!” A jovial looking woman, short with round hips and waves of gold-blond hair came toward Ivy with open arms. She grabbed her up in a hug and squeezed her tight, even though Ivy groaned.

“Mom! You act like you haven’t seen me in years!” She complained.

“Oh like your mom can’t shower you in love every time you see her.” Her mother shook her head as she pulled away, only then seeming to notice Adam. Her eyes went wide. “Who’s this?” She looked back at Ivy for an explanation.

“My name’s Adam, ma’am.” Adam knew when and how to lay on the charm and he’d promised Ivy he’d be the perfect so-called boyfriend to keep her mother off her back. He extended a hand for a polite shake. 

“Mom, this is my…” Ivy and Adam’s eyes met. Her expression softened. “My boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend?” Her mom echoed, still holding on to Adam’s hand as she looked from her daughter back to him. “Well! Has he met everyone yet? Did you get him something to drink? What do you want sweetheart? We have eggnog, homemade!” And, still holding on to his hand, Ivy’s mom started to drag him away, ignoring Ivy’s protests that she was introducing him slowly to the family and they’d make their way to the kitchen eventually.

Ivy hadn’t been kidding when she said her family - and her mother - could be a little overwhelming. Although rather than leaving him anxious and strung tight, it was that good kind of overwhelming that instead had him dizzy with warmth and love. Adam was dragged around the house, introduced to everyone he hadn’t met yet (and even those he had) as Ivy followed and kept trying to get her mother to relinquish her hold on him in between apologizing for her mother’s behavior. Truthfully, Adam was struggling to hold back a smile. She was cute, concerned and fussing over him like that, putting those big, pleading eyes on his as she begged him to just hold out a little bit longer.

Finally their trip rounded them back in a circle where her mother was beckoned from the kitchen to help set up more snack trays. Adam and Ivy were left alone (relatively, of course, he noticed there were people grouped throughout the living area) and as they met one another’s eyes he widened his and exhaled an exhausted breath.

“Wow.”

“I know!” Her brows dipped inward, creating little wrinkle lines on her forehead. She reached out and put a hand on his forearm and he felt the muscle tense, electricity up his skin from her touch. “I’m so sorry Adam. I told you she’s relentless and was going to want everyone to meet my boyfriend.”

“If I’m bein’ honest, I felt like a well-bred stud being marched around and shown off.”

“Oh my god!” Ivy snickered and then groaned. Her hand slipped off his arm and he wished he could reach out and put a hand on her hip just to keep them touching. “It was exactly like that. Once she knew you were on t.v. it was all over.” She shook her head, sighing. “I’m sorry, your friends weren’t nearly as much as my mom has been. And this is only the first half hour of the night.”

Adam laughed and as cute as she was worried over him, he decided he’d calm those fears of hers. He started to lift his hand, wanting to push his palm against her cheek and gently hold her face, then remembered himself and let it drop to his side. He cleared his throat and shrugged.

“Nah, I honestly don’t mind it at all. It’s done wonders for my confidence.” His grin stretched playfully into his bearded cheeks.

“You’re a saint,” Ivy laughed and he was happy to see she was happy.

“What about you?” He asked, “I know we’ve only been here a little bit but is it helping?” He hoped it was.

“It is!” She said without hesitation. “That whole time my mom was dragging you around to show you off would have been spent with her reliving my exes to me, asking me where they’re at now, or telling me about women she knows who have single sons my age, or this cute young man my age she met at the grocery store and struck up a conversation with and got his number for me.”

Adam blew another breath out of his mouth. “I’m glad I can help.” But a frown worked its way across his brow. Ivy was a smart, successful, capable woman all on her own. It wasn’t fair that her mother only considered her relationship something to discuss and didn’t pay attention to everything else her daughter was. “You okay?” She asked, and he realized she’d been watching him and seen his change in expression.

“Oh, sorry. Yeah.” But she still peered at him and he knew this wasn’t the place to broach a serious topic like that. “When are you going to tell her about the promotion?”

“Honestly I was so busy trying to keep her from smothering you I completely forgot.” She laughed. “I guess I’ll tell her after the gifts are over. Anyways, come on-” she grabbed his hand, tingles again “-let’s go load up our plates with finger foods. It’s the best part of the whole night.”

Adam grinned, following after her as she held his hand, twining his fingers around hers and thinking about how whole he felt.

*********

The entire evening was better than Ivy could have anticipated. She knew it was mostly due to having Adam as her near-constant company, and feeling warmly closer to him than they probably had any right to be. During the gift exchange they’d claimed a spot on one of the couches and like it was natural, Ivy had leaned into him, Adam had lifted his arm and wrapped it snug around her shoulders. They’d shared a little smile then both looked away, staying cuddled up throughout the entirety of the exchange.

It had come to an end as the last gift was opened and she still didn’t move to get up from leaning on Adam’s soft yet somehow firm body. He didn’t try to lift his arm to separate them, either. Their supposedly shared gift sat at their feet in front of the couch, a large fluffy blanket that she’d had to have the moment she felt it and a Starbucks gift card. Absolutely perfect.

Conversation flowed happily around the room. Ivy and Adam were listening as her father retold his favorite Christmas story - the night Ivy was six and they’d had to come to a sudden stop on snowy roads, after the car righted itself there was a little gathering of stags that’d run out of the woods. Ivy had started to cry, worried that they were Santa’s reindeer and had gotten lost, meaning Santa wouldn’t be able to deliver presents that evening.

“I had to sit there and explain all about the differences between reindeer and white-tails and promise her the whole way home that Santa was going to be able to come that night.” Her father was grinning near ear-to-ear as he chuckled.

Ivy rolled her eyes, but smiled. She was tired of hearing the story every year but it was clearly endearing to her father. Adam, hearing it for the first time, had seemed to enjoy listening to it too.

“She was so cute kicking up a fuss like that.” Her father said warmly.

“I’ll bet she was.” Adam said. Ivy glanced quickly up at him only to see his eyes were locked on hers. Her stomach felt as if it erupted in a wild fluttering of butterflies and she swallowed, feeling a little hot in her cheeks. This was more… wasn’t it? They were being more coupley, weren’t they? Even more than they’d been at his company holiday party. Was their being together, their touching and holding hands becoming more natural to him, too? Or was she going crazy, projecting and seeing the things she wanted to see to justify how she felt about him now?

The questions would drive her insane, she needed to change the topic.

Ivy cleared her throat and looked back at her parents. “I’m getting a promotion at work.”

“Are you?” Her mother gasped.

“That’s wonderful sweetheart,” her father praised with a smile. “When did you find out?”

“A few weeks ago,” Ivy smiled, suddenly feeling almost shy with Adam’s proud gaze on her, his hand gently rubbing up and down her arm. The skimming of his fingertips on her skin was almost distracting.

“Why did you wait so long to tell us?!” Her mother admonished. “Sweetheart, that’s amazing! You’ve been working so hard, it’s about time they recognized it.”

“Thank you mom,” Ivy laughed.

“How’s the pay increase?” Her dad asked.

Ivy shook her head. “It’s actually pretty impressive if I’m being honest.” She’d already started to daydream about all the things in her life she was going to invest in and upgrade. “I’ve been working my ass off to get this promotion.”

“Well!” Her mother was beaming and her eyes slid to Adam and back to Ivy, her smile getting a mischievous little twist. Oh no, thought Ivy. “With more money you’d be able to support a child.” She winked as though they shared an inside secret, then gave that same wink to Adam. “I happen to think I’d make the perfect grandmother.”

Ivy’s heart sank, even with Adam at her side, she was still incomplete. She was sure her mother didn’t mean it, but it still stung. Before she could say something wrong and upset her mother or change the subject entirely, Adam was speaking up.

“With all due respect, ma’am, Ivy and I just started dating; we’re a little far off from seeing how compatible we are or if children are even something either of us want.”

“Oh, of course,” her mother looked taken aback. Ivy gaped at Adam and wasn’t sure if she should pinch him or kiss him for speaking up to her mother.

Adam looked at her, seemed to hesitate, then started talking again. “I know you’re proud of your daughter,” he glanced back toward her parents, who were now watching him with slightly guarded expressions, “but when you jump straight to talking about her lack of children or who she’s dating, it makes it seem like that’s all you care about. I know it’s not my place to say, but I also know it bothers her, and she shouldn’t have to feel like she’s anything less than the amazing woman I’ve come to see she is.”

The small group was quiet. Ivy didn’t know what to say or do. Adam had talked calmly, never raising his voice, but he’d effectively checked her mother’s habit to overlook Ivy’s accomplishments. It was a bold move for a real boyfriend, even bolder for a fake one. Or, hell, maybe he figured he wouldn’t be seeing her parents again and was free to stick up for her even under their own house.

The more she thought about it, the more she wanted to grab his face and kiss him. No one had ever stood up for her like that. Still, Ivy worried over her mother’s reaction and looked back at her.

“Do I really do it that often?”

“Mom,” Ivy sighed and glanced down at her hands. She made herself look back up. “Yeah. You do. It’s why I waited so long to tell you about the promotion. I don’t know if you’re doing it on purpose, but it feels like it is. It makes me feel like…” Their voices were low enough the conversation was truly just among the four of them, but Ivy still paused to make sure no family members were listening in that she didn’t want to overhear. “Mom, you just make me feel like I’m not doing enough if I’m not seeing someone or giving you a grandchild.” Emboldened by the honesty coming out, she looked over at Adam and shook her head, realizing how ridiculous the whole thing had been to start with. “I mean, Adam and I aren’t even-”

“Aren’t even that serious yet.” He jumped in, talking over her. Ivy tilted her head, eyes on his. Why didn’t he want her to tell her parents that they weren’t actually dating?

“I’m sorry, baby,” her mother said, and when Ivy looked back saw a sheen of tears in her eyes. “I didn’t realize I’d been so awful about it to you.”

“Mom, no,” Ivy shook her head, shoulders dropping. “Don’t cry. I should have told you how much it bothered me instead of just grinning and bearing it.”

Getting up from the couch, Ivy’s mother stood up too. Immediately Ivy wrapped her arms around her mother and cuddled tight into her as her mother held her, too. “I’m sorry sweetie,” she whispered again in Ivy’s ear, squeezing her a little tighter for a moment before they let go. 

“I really am proud of you, you know that? My little Ivy put herself through college, got her dream job, is living independently, and achieving all her dreams. I can’t even begin to tell you how proud I am of you! I brag about you all the time. I just, well, I’m your mom. I worry about you being all alone. And yes, maybe I am a bit baby crazy and I’ve started pushing that off on you.” She shook her head. “You can have no kids, have ten kids, marry once, marry never, I don’t care sweetie. I’m always going to be proud of you.”

“Thank you, mom.” Ivy said, now feeling her own tears rising. She reached to wipe at her eyes, careful of her make-up.

“Hey! No crying on Christmas!” A cousin shouted, looking over and seeing her and her mother having their close, emotional talk. Ivy shook her head as laughter rippled around the room.

“It’s not Christmas, it’s December 19th!” Her mother scolded back. “We can cry all we want to.”

“I think I’m good on the crying,” Ivy laughed and looked back at her mom, softening. “Thank you, mom.”

“You don’t have to thank me for coming to my senses.”

“Well, I think it was more like you were forced to come to your senses.” Her father spoke up and slapped his thighs as he lifted off the couch to stand up with them. Adam stood up as well. 

Rubbing his hand at the back of his neck, Adam spoke up. “I’m sorry, I know that wasn’t polite of me-”

“You don’t need to apologize.” Her mother hushed him almost immediately. “I was a little shocked at first, but clearly this was something we needed to talk about.” “I think I would have preferred a less crowded house,” Ivy admitted, looking around. Most of the family was still deep in their own conversations, but she had to have imagined some of them had overheard.

“Any man who stands up for my little girl, to her own mother no less, the first time he’s meeting the family… well, that’s a man I definitely approve of for my daughter.” Ivy’s father chuckled and patted Adam on the back. “I like this one, sweetheart. He’s a good one.”

Ivy smiled as their eyes met. “Yeah, he is.”

The party carried on for a couple more hours of happy chatter until one by one the families started to slowly trickle out. Ivy and Adam were the last to leave, helping tidy up around the house despite her mother’s assurance they shouldn’t bother themselves by cleaning. It really wasn’t a bother. Ivy thought of it as a sort of sweet domesticity, picking up plates and putting leftover food away, cleaning up trash and righting the house again side-by-side with Adam. She kept sneaking glances over at him as he smiled back at her; a few times they’d reached for the same things and brushed their hands against each other. Their touches continued to linger a little longer and a little longer each time, her cheeks warm as their eyes held contact. By the end her gaze kept finding its way to his lips; she just couldn’t help herself. She couldn’t stop wondering what’d be like to kiss him.

Adam sucked in a breath as they stepped back, having finished putting the last of the food up. “I guess we should get on home?” He asked.

It was rather late, though Ivy felt hesitation she knew was due to this being their possible last moments together. If she said yes, they would walk out of the door, get in his truck, he would drive her home and drop her off and they supposedly would never see one another again. Or, well, they’d maybe see one another, but nothing like this. Nothing like tonight had been. Nothing like the past few weeks had been.

“Yeah,” she said, trying not to let any regret seep into her tone. “We probably should.”

They went to say their goodbyes to her parents, gathering their gift and the leftovers her mother pushed off on her before they finally stepped out of the house. Ivy exhaled into the cool late-night winter air as Adam closed the front door and they stood on the porch.

“Thank you,” she said, not yet descending the steps to go to his truck.

“For?” He frowned, tilting his head as he looked down at her.

“For... standing up for me? For being...you? I don’t know. I just had such a good time tonight I feel like I need to thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me, darlin’.” He smiled. “I had just as good a time tonight as you, promise. Although, I do still feel like I should apologize. That wasn’t my place to talk to your mom like that.”

“Adam, it’s okay. I was a little taken aback but, honestly like my mom said, that conversation needed to happen.”

“I’m glad you’re not mad at me,” he said, his voice a little hushed. They were still lingering on the porch. Ivy felt like she could stand there all night in spite of the chill, but knew they shouldn’t. She took one last longing glance at his lips and smiled. “I doubt I could ever really be mad at you.” 

Maybe little things, tiny annoyances on nerve-frazzled days or the common day-to-day things you argue and work through and overcome to come back stronger than ever. Nothing that would ever make her really resent him, though. She could tell herself until she was blue in the face they’d only been talking a month and she probably didn’t know him as well as she thought she did, but something was telling her everything with Adam would just make sense.

She honestly never felt like this with anyone before. How could she feel so connected to him when they were still essentially strangers? When they hadn’t even really been dating to begin with?

“Come on,” she turned away, the gift bag and tote bag of leftover goodies in tow. “We should probably get off my parent’s porch.”

“Wait,” he said as she turned to walk away, “we almost forgot...”

“Forgot what?” Ivy looked back at him and saw he’d taken a step to close their distance. She had to tilt her head to look up into his eyes where she saw he was holding a little piece of garland.

“It’s tradition to kiss under mistletoe.” He said.

“Adam…” It was hard to keep herself from giggling. The grin spread and pushed up into her cheeks. “That’s not mistletoe, that’s a piece of fake pine-needle garland I think you stole from my mom’s house.”

“Tomato, tom-ah-to. Maybe I just wanted an excuse to do this...” He leaned down, brushing his lips softly against hers.

Immediately she warmed to his touch, melting against the contact. He took the invitation to sink deeper into their kiss. His hand dropped and found its place on her hip, pulling her tighter against him. The garland had been dropped to the ground, happily forgotten as he ran his tongue between the split of her lips and then sank inside her mouth as she opened with invitation.

The bags fell with a rustle and a thump by her feet and her arms came up quickly around his shoulders, wrapping tightly and pulling him down on her. Their heads moved, matching the shape of their lips better. His fingers squeezed into her hips, the passion mounting further and further the longer their lips touched and tongues stroked.

They broke apart, chests rising and falling quick as they exhaled large, foggy white breaths in the small space between them. All Ivy could taste was him. She felt deliriously dizzy.

“I have been wanting to do that for a long damn time,” he admitted.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“I think I broke our rule,” she confessed. They were still holding each other, going nowhere but lost in one another’s eyes.

“Our rule?”

“We weren’t supposed to fall for each other, remember? I’m afraid I might be falling, cowboy.”

A warm smile melted across his face.

“I think I’ve already beat you there.” He bent and, just before his lips touched hers, exhaled his promise across her mouth, “I’ll be ready to catch you, darlin’.”

[awkward-uwu]

Fall For You

Genre: The Fluffiest Fluff

Pairing: Female reader x Woojin

Word count: 1,398

(Gif not mine, credit to owner)

It's a cold fall afternoon, and you wouldn't even be out here if you hadn't promised your grandma you'd rake all the leaves in her large yard a week ago. Luckily you're not alone though, you've got your upstairs neighbor Woojin to help you. You had been complaining about how you stupidly agreed to this large task so Woojin suggested he help.

“Hey Y/n, how big of a pile do you think we can make?” he asks with that bright smile you've loved since the day you met him.

You chuckle, “Wouldn't it be more practical to make a few of smaller piles we can clean up later?”

“Well, yeah. But if we make one big pile we can jump in it,”

“Pffft, ok, but how about two instead at least? We can turn it into game then! Whoever has the biggest pile by the time the yard is clean wins!”

He smirks, “Alright, but what does the winner get?”

“Hm… loser has to take out the winner’s trash for a week?”

He thinks for a second, “Deal.” He chuckles and shakes your hand.

The two of you stand on opposite sides of the yard, and begin raking up leaves. You start out pretty fast, but raking leaves is hard so you slow. After a while you notice how much larger his pile is and you squint your eyes at him wondering how he's so much better at this. So the first time his back is turned you decide to set down your rake and sneak over to his pile to steal an armfull. You get less than halfway back to your side when he notices, but he doesn't say or do anything. You throw the leaves on your pile with a grin thinking you got away with it and begin raking again. He simply smiles softly and chuckles quietly to himself at how cute you're being.

The yard is almost fully clear and both piles are getting quite large, but his pile is still bigger, so you decide to try and steal one last time without him noticing.

He notices.

He decides to sneak up behind you as you reach into the pile, once you have your arms as full as possible you turn around, “What do you think you're doing?” He asks with a smirk.

You let out a short scream and fall backwards into his pile getting almost fully enveloped in leaves. He laughs as he kneels down, “Are you ok?” He continues to laugh as he clears the leaves from your face, only to have his heart almost jump out of his chest seeing you pouting and spitting out a few pieces of leaf that got into your mouth. “Yeah… but you really startled me…”

He chuckles and stands up hoping you didn't see the soft blush across his face, “Well maybe you shouldn't have tried stealing from me,”

He reaches a hand down to help you up, which you gladly take, but instead of standing up you lean all your weight backwards and pull him into the leaves with you. He falls almost right on top of you but leans slightly to the side so he doesn't hurt you and falls with a thud on his side. You begin to laugh as he adjusts himself so he can see you better, he ends up just staring at you as you laugh to yourself, “You should have seen your face!”

You slowly stop laughing after a few seconds and stare into the sky before looking over to Woojin, who's simply looking at you with a soft smile and leaves in his disheveled hair, causing your heart to speed up and heat to spread across your face. You look away quickly hoping he doesn't notice how flustered you've become. He sits up on his elbow to where he is now leaning over you a bit, you look back at him whose face is only a few inches away from yours. His eyes flash to you lips then back to your eyes before he leans in and presses his lips against yours, you move your hands to his shoulders as he cups the side of your face with his free hand.

His lips a ever so slightly chapped from the cold, but you don't care.

You part and look into each other's eyes as a bright smile stretches across his face, “You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that,”

After a few moments of staying like that, just looking into each other's eyes he stands up and helps you up. He shakes his head and ruffles his hair to get all the leaves out. He then moves over to you and begins dusting you off and getting the leaves out of your hair, you quickly peck him on the nose while he does this, making him freeze before smiling softly and chuckling. He then leans in and presses his lips against yours again, you smile into the kiss this time as you wrap your arms around his his neck and he wraps his arms around your waist. You part and just stand there holding each other smiling for a few moments, “Oh, we should probably finish taking care of the leaves…” you speak up as you let go, he does the same and goes to pick up his rake. As he does this you take the chance to fill your arms with leaves from his pile and run them over to yours. And of course he notices, but all he does is laugh and begin raking again.

Once the yard is clear you measure who had more by filling big trash bags with the leaves, and he has a whole bag more than you. You look back and forth between both piles and pout, “I could have sworn it would have at least been closer…”

Woojin chuckles and sets a hand on your shoulder, “Hey, you still did pretty good. How about we go back to my place and have hot cocoa?”

“With marshmallows?”

“With marshmallows.”

He smirks, “But you still have to take out my trash for a week,”

“Awww, really??” You pout.

“That was the deal,” he pecks you on the cheek making you forget you were upset about.

You two then take the bags of leaves to the side of the garage, and go inside to say goodbye to your grandma who gives you a fairly large container of fresh snickerdoodles. When Woojin sees the container his hands go to his face and he gasps. You giggle at his cuteness and tuck the container under your arm and begin walking with him back to your apartment complex. A little less than halfway there you feel Woojin interlock his fingers with yours, your heart jumps and you smile. The whole way back it's quiet, you just walk, holding each other's hand, enjoying the other's company. You can't help but look up at him once in a while, thinking about how this amazing man actually likes you back.

It's a simple four apartment building, so you only have to walk up two sets of stairs to get his place. He (sadly) lets go of your hand to unlock the door and holds it open to let you in first. Once inside you set the cookies on his table and make your way to the couch while he begins the hot cocoa. As the water heats up he grabs a large fluffy blanket and hands it to you, you curl up in it right away because of how cold you got from being outside. Shortly after the water is hot and he sets up the cocoa (with marshmallows) he also adds two little round peppermints to both. He walks over and hands you one before he grabs two cookies as well and sits down next to you, you open up the blanket so he can join you, which he gladly does.

You two sit there comfortably cuddled together with him kissing you on the cheek every so often. You decide to watch a cute feel good movie, but you end up falling asleep with your head in his lap about halfway through. Which Woojin couldn't be happier about, the rest of the evening he smiles down at you as he runs his fingers through your hair, wondering how today was so amazing.

[macbookpro-hard-drive]

unlonely [michael m. x reader] pt.2

like what i do? consider buying me a coffee!

accidentally spends the last three hours writing this. whoops.

the good part of having fics planned out is that u dont have to sit around for nearly as long like “uGHHHH WHAT DO I WRITE” story-wise. writing wise? still hell. 

also dont expect this please sdfhkjdsfh i only managed this because its a saturday and i dont have anything else to do rn because homework??? ill do that later

warnings: sad michael. more than once. a hospital is here. cool. reader is a bitter fuck. if i need to warn for anything else pls tell me.

            Michael had the habit of talking himself through things. With you there, he excused it off as him explaining it to you. The first time you caught this little habit was during the first dissection the two of you did together, listening to him give himself a pep talk through the first few minutes before shutting up at the slightly worried glance you shot his way. During video games, you caught him muttering his plan to himself. And now? Now you had Michael Mell in your backseat, talking over the directions your phone gave you, filling you in on the same plan you’d heard for the past week. Every now and then, you’d shush him long enough to hear where you were supposed to turn, and then he’d start back up, saying how he was going to find Jeremy, go through his speech - something he spared you from, on the account of the fact it was pretty personal, which... you couldn’t lie, you weren’t complaining about that - and then maybe the three of you would go out somewhere if Jeremy saw the light and immediately shed that dickish persona he’d taken on (Michael’s dream situation) or if Jeremy realized he was a dick and figured maybe he should apologize to Michael not in the middle of a party (your dream situation). A weight stayed in your stomach the entire time you were driving to Jake’s house - and then it lightened upon seeing shifting behind you.

            Slowing to a stop at a red light, you finally took the chance to steal a glance at Michael in the backseat. And you couldn’t help but fucking stare at him, before the light flickered green and you tore your gaze away. He kept babbling, not noticing the look you’d given him. Maybe the two of you would watch horror movies when you got back to your place - that’d be dope, wouldn’t it?

            “Michael?” You finally said, breaking him out of his endless rambling.

            “Yes?”

            “What the actual fuck are you wearing?”

            “What?” He asked, “look, I needed a disguise! I don’t get invited to parties,” he said, ��no one will ever know it’s me!”

            “Michael, you could have literally put a hood up or put on a mask and done the same thing-”

            “That’s too simple!” And then, he paused. “Eyes on the road, [y/n],” he said, and you could hear his fucking smirk.

            “They are, Mell.”

            “Yeah, right.”

            For a split second, you debated slamming on brakes. The thought tempted you for another moment, and then you finally decided against it - you couldn’t risk breaking his nose or something. Besides - fate had other plans, as you finally turned into Jake’s neighborhood. If your phone hadn’t informed you that your destination was on the right, the cars lining the street definitely would have. A few houses ahead, you could see plenty of cars pulled onto the front lawn of a pretty damn nice looking house - and you sort of stare, wondering how this many people would show up to one high school party. You glanced back to Michael, the car moving at a snail’s pace down the street. 

            “I’m gonna circle back around,” you announced. He gave you a quick nod.

            Ten minutes later, you’re sitting alone in your parked car and Michael’s left you with the promise that he’ll be back in maybe and hour or two. You reclined your seat, turned up the radio, and just sort of waited - not wanting to burn your phone battery anymore, because your dad had stolen your charger out of your car earlier that night - for the next few hours. You watched people filter in and out, like Brooke Lohst finally showing up in this handmade dog outfit that looked like an attempt for a sexy dog (and, honestly, you couldn’t say that it wasn’t - but that was more Brooke than the costume); or this little group of people running back out to their car and leaving, laughing the entire way, and you started hoping that they weren’t drunk; and then you saw Jeremy fucking Heere, pulling up in a slightly beat up car (and for a moment, you’re confused - you’d never seen him drive before, had you? You didn’t know if he could) but that washed away the moment he stepped out, dressed in this fucking dorky cyborg-looking costume that made you stifle back a laugh because of how damn cheesy it was, like he was some kid in a middle school play.

            An hour later, you saw Michael crossing the front lawn to your car. That god-awful costume is discarded somewhere, leaving him just in the shirt and shorts he’d been wearing when you picked him up, and you could see him shaking as he made his way over. He pulled the car door open, sliding into the passenger seat and shutting it all in one fluid motion. He didn’t speak to you. He just sat there, plucking at his shirt or clicking his phone on and off to glance at the time - half past ten, you noted - or running a hand through his hair, already a mess from the thousands of times he’d done it before.

            You didn’t ask what happened. All you did was pull the car into reverse, and slowly eased your way out of your spot, making a quick U-turn to leave Jake’s house in your rear-view mirror.

            But after a few minutes of silent driving, you finally speak up. “My family should still be out. We can go to my room and watch movies, or listen to music or something.” You paused for a moment. “Oh, fuck, Michael - you haven’t even tried my kick-ass hot cocoa. I put mini marshmallows and whipped cream and whatever you like, I guess.” You paused once more, drumming your fingers against the steering wheel. “If you want peppermint, I think I have some candy canes stashed away somewhere that I can crush up. Or we have cinnamon stll - oh shit, Michael, we have the stuff to make cinnamon rolls. That’d be fucking dope.” You stopped, keeping your eyes pinned to the road as you pull your right hand away, extending it to Michael. “We’re gonna be okay, Michael.”

            And after a moment, Michael’s hand was in yours, squeezing it tightly without a word. And when you steal another glance, that look in his eyes is back: like he’s a thousand worlds away from you. He was so distant, like maybe he fell through this reality into another - and maybe, in a way, he did. Maybe Jeremy and that supercomputer-thing and everything was a world away from you, something foreign to you - but that wasn’t going to stop you. Michael might have been up in the clouds, but you were going to try your fucking hardest to ground him again. You weren’t going to tell Michael that you hated Jeremy Heere. He didn’t need to hear that - Michael needed some sort of security, and you were going to try and give him that as best as you could then.

            Michael had never been to your house before. The lights in the front yard reflected in of his glasses as he followed you up to the house, the chirp of your car locking behind the two of you as you fumbled with your house key. You kicked off your shoes as you stepped inside, giving Michael the most general tour you could - the living room off to the right, the small dining room to the left, and the kitchen behind that - before guiding him into the kitchen. He leaned against the kitchen island, watching you gather your ingredients, throwing quick glances back to him every once in a while. You reached over the stovetop, turning the oven on before pulling out one of those Pillsbury cinnamon roll tubes, shooting him a quick smile.

            “Dad likes to make them from scratch. Mom and I don’t have the patience for that sometimes,” you said, before returning to the hot chocolate.

            Milk, brown sugar, cinnamon, a block of chocolate - which Michael watched you chop the entire time, wondering how you had the patience to deal with that shit, because he probably would have given up halfway through - and he watched you fish through cabinets, pulling out three different bottled: vanilla, ground cinnamon, and... ground cayenne pepper? He walked over to your side, leaning against the counter wordlessly as he watched you work, taking a bowl to mix all your dry ingredients together.

            “You wanna help?” You asked, looking up at him.

            “What’s the cayenne pepper for?”

            You only shot him a quick smile. “Baking spray should be in that cabinet,” you motioned with your elbow, “and the pans are in that big bottom drawer.” You extended the cinnamon rolls to him, “you can break these open, if you want.”

            You ignored the rough hit he took to his palm once the tear-away shit didn’t work, the pop! of the tube greeting him a second later. 

            “Do you do this often?” Michael asked, the hiss of him greasing the pan greeting you a minute later.

            “... Hot cocoa?” You asked, before shrugging. “When it’s cold enough, yeah.”

            “No. I mean... this.” He said, “the whole, uh... cheering up thing.”

            You paused, turning your attention to the milk on the stove. “I...” You started, before pressing your lips together. “No.” You poured in cups of milk, mixing brown sugar in before you put it over the heat, keeping a close eye on it so that it doesn’t burn. “I don’t.” You pressed your lips together.

            “You’re really good at it,” he said softly. Stealing a glance, you found his attention on placing each cinnamon roll, and you were glad for that. He didn’t need to look at you - not when you were starting to drop the facade you’d kept up of happy, nerdy you who just wanted to talk to him about music and video games and maybe see him smile again. 

            He didn’t need to see just how lonely you were.

            Thirty minutes later, the two of you are in your living room, watching old movies on Netflix and sharing a blanket. Michael liked to make snarky comments during movies, pointing out stupid effects or making fun of the stupider lines (which, you couldn’t lie, you’d mimic them too). Cinnamon rolls cooled on the coffee table, stacked high and iced graciously, and the hot cocoa had been drained the moment the two of you took sips - which made a warm, cozy feeling of satisfaction bubble through you when Michael practically glowed at the taste before admitting you’d been right to gloat earlier. Which one of you fell asleep first, you weren’t sure. What you were sure of was waking up the next morning, curled up next to Michael with your head on his shoulder, his arm curled around you securely. The TV screen had been shut off, the cinnamon rolls on the table a few less (and you imagined that it had been your parents coming in, not wanting to disturb you and Michael since you’d been sleeping), and Michael’s soft breathing ended up soothing you back to sleep. He’d taken his glasses off at some point. You fought back a small smile at that - he still looked nice without his glasses, which was unfair because not everyone could look nice with and without glasses. You nestled back into his shoulder, growing slightly closer to him as you shut your eyes. His arm pulled you slightly closer, and you could feel his face against the side of your head.

            It was nice. Michael was always warm, and it was comfortable since you knew that, without Michael and the blanket, you’d be freezing your ass off on the couch. Even with the way your neck and back were positioned, you were comfortable with Michael - and even though you knew that your body would be aching tomorrow, hating you for not moving, you were okay with that. That moment had been worth it.

            “Jeremy.” He looked up, the little voice in the back of his head, bringing him back down to earth once more. Jeremy couldn’t really lie - he was glad to finally have a distraction. It was cold outside, and there he was, leaning against Brooke’s car with his fingers intertwined with hers while she was deep in conversation with this guy from the swim team and his girlfriend - some art student, Jeremy noticed, as she had graphite and paint smudges on her hands - about... something. He ended up tuning them out, having lost interest in the conversation - and besides, he didn’t need to pay attention. He had the SQUIP there to fill in the gaps when he needed to speak.

            The SQUIP spoke once more. “Look at the building.” He obeyed, and in a flicker, a familiar shade of red met his eyes. Michael. One hand at his backpack strap, the other holding his phone as he stood outside. A minute later, another person walked out, greeting him before Jeremy watched Michael push his headphones down and around his neck, immediately starting up conversation with this stranger. And then he watched the two of you laugh together, chatting happily as watched both of you made your way to Michael’s car. 

            Then Jeremy recognized you. He’d seen you in his math class, quiet and always keeping to yourself - and now you were with Michael, laughing about some story Michael must had been dying to tell you, judging by how animated he grew. The two of you fit well together, laughing at the same stupid things, you playfully shoving Michael at one point before the two of you approached his car, parked close enough that Jeremy wouldn’t have had to turn around to watch the two of you get into Michael’s car and leave. The fact that the two of you got along was a sweet sight, but... he couldn’t fight the pit in the bottom of his stomach of anger, of sadness- because that was Michael. His former best friend.

            “It looks like Michael’s moved on fast,” His SQUIP said, as Jeremy watched Michael’s car disappear out of the parking lot.

            “Jeremy!” Brooke’s voice snapped him back to reality, “are you okay?” She said, worming her hand out of his, stretching and popping her fingers. “You were hurting my hand.”

            He didn’t realize how tightly he’d been squeezing her hand. But he nodded, making up some bullshit excuse that he’d just been thinking before shrugging it off as unimportant. Just as he always did nowadays.

            Fridays were always your least favorite school days - purely because it was an countdown to the freedom of the weekend for you. Mondays also sucked - but Fridays? You’d fucking kill for a school day to be over already. But you were glad to confirm your plans with Michael tomorrow to just sit around and binge Queer Eye on Netflix at your house - because at least that gave you something to look forward to on Saturday - and make your way home, so that you can lie down and die a bit internally in peace. The heavy thump of your backpack made you frown, as you threw yourself onto your bed, falling face-first into your comforter and letting out a soft groan of oh thank god when you heard your bedroom door open, and the familiar chuckle of your father sound out.

            “Tough day?” He asked, and you let out a grunt of confirmation, not bothering to move. He chuckled again. “I made some cinnamon rolls earlier.” You snapped up, looking to him. "Save some for Michael, [y/n].”

            You beamed, rolling over and sitting up. That’s when you noticed he’d dressed up nicely, redoing his tie for what what probably the tenth time. “Where are you going?” 

            “The Murphys invited us out for dinner tonight,” he said, “thought I’d take them up on the offer. I’ll let them know you wanted to be there,” he shot you a quick smile. “Thought you could use the rest, kiddo.” He paused, lowering his voice. “But if they offer, I’ll bring you back something.”

            Sometimes you were glad that your family had rich friends. That was definitely one of those moments. He made some other comment, talking about how they’ll probably get back late so don’t worry or wait up for them or anything. The door shut behind him as he left, and you fell back onto your bed, debating whether you should go get a cinnamon roll or to take a fucking baller nap that you deserved because high school sucks. 

            And then you woke up a few hours later, the sound of a car horn blaring outside. You grabbed your phone, expecting maybe your dad had texted and called you and upon not getting any response, figured that maybe that would have woken you up - but you were greeted with nothing. So you made your way to the front door, pulling the door open with the expectation of yelling at some asshole that other people live in this neighborhood, only to be greeted with the sight of a familiar P.T. Cruiser in your driveway. No wonder it sounded so loud.

            “Michael, what the FUCK-” You yelled out, only for him to sort of lean out his window.

            “I’ll explain on the way!” He called out. You scowled slightly and hoped that this was something important enough to literally disturb the entire fucking neighborhood, and snagged your keys, sliding into your shoes before leaving your house and hopping into the passenger side, narrowly avoiding smashing into Michael’s bag in the floorboard.

            He barely had pulled out of your driveway before he started talking. Jeremy’s dad had ended up at his house, talking to him about how Jeremy had basically disrespected him and he realized just how absent he’d been as a father - causing him to seek Michael’s help, because Jeremy would listen to Michael if he tried harder to talk to him. So he launched into this whole talk, about how if maybe he tried to be a better friend to Jeremy, he could get through to him - and the whole thing stung. Jeremy abandoned him, not the other way around, and there Michael was, talking about how he needed to try harder and reach out to him again. Mountain Dew Red was supposed to deactivate the SQUIP, according to some dude that Michael played Overwatch with, and he had managed to get his hands on a case of the stuff a few weeks back, and he luckily had a bottle left in his bag - so maybe if he talked to Jeremy before the play, he could help him-

            You finally spoke up, having watched Michael run out of breath while speaking a thousand miles an hour. “Woah, shit, Mikey, slow down.” He barely had a chance to glance over to you, before you spoke again: “eyes on the road, Michael.” He looked away, giving a single nod. “So. Why am I here?”

            He didn’t answer immediately, flicking his turn signal on long enough to change lanes. “I didn’t want to go alone.”

            “I don’t have any money on me, dude-”

            “I’ll pay for you!” He said, cutting you off, "or you can stay in the car if you want, I just - I need you there.” He breathed, before finally tacking on a soft, “just in case.”

            Upon reaching the school, the two of you were lucky enough to snag the two seats closest to the backstage door. Michael talked to you idly, his leg bouncing restlessly as he kept debating going then or waiting until the lights went down for the show. Eventually, you watched him reach down to the floor beneath his seat, grabbing his bag and sliding forward enough to throw it over one of his shoulders. When you reached for his hand to stop him, he reassured you it was just so that he could get back there faster when he needed to. Maybe it’d be better if he waited until after the show to see Jeremy - give him a chance to maybe not fuck up the show and have Christine Canigula angry at him.

            So he relaxed, the lights going down as the two of you watched Christine come to the edge of the stage, giving some announcements about how it’d been a hard few weeks for Middleborough and how important theatre is to bring everyone together for basically what’s supposed to be a good time. As if on cue, you and Michael glanced at each other the moment she made a comment about what Rich would say - cracking a small smile at each other before listening to her final comment about the costumes from Hobby Lobby. The show started, the lights on stage letting up as you watched a couple students fumble through their lines a bit, before... changing. Newfound passion flooded into them, the show rivaling Broadway plays - and you leaned back, looking to Michael, who’s grip turned vice-like on his bag’s strap.

            “This... is way too good for a school play,” he whispered to you, before realization hit. “Oh god. Oh fuck,” he started, “I need to get in there.”

“Wait, Michael-” You placed your hand over his, “hold on - I don’t know if that’s a good idea since-”

            “I’ll be fine, [y/n].” He shot you a quick smile, “I’ll be back. Just... stay here.” 

            “Michael, they just started the show,” you whispered, ignoring a shush from behind you. “If you go now-”

            “I’ll be fine!” He said, voice raising slightly. He stared at you, and then - all in a quick moment - he leaned forward, pressing his lips against yours for a split second before dashing away, leaving you dumbfounded by the sudden move.

            “... What the fuck?” You mumbled, sinking back into your seat before turning your attention back to the play as best as you could, ignoring the burning in your cheeks. Eventually, the scene ended, the lights doing down long enough for actors to slip off stage. You watched the lights come back up, Brooke coming on stage and completely blowing everyone else away with nothing but raw energy. And then you watched as the stage slowly fell empty.

            That was when you moved, slipping to the backstage door, barely getting a hand on it before a screech rung out. You threw the door open, letting it slam behind you as you head up the steps to hear several thumps hit the floor, and then you saw Michael, letting out a scream as he stepped back, staring at all the bodies unconscious before him. Something inside of you jumped to action, as you found your phone and immediately called 911. Holding the phone between your face and shoulder, you found Michael standing there in shocked silence, and guided him over to somewhere to sit - him practically falling into the chair you found. 

            Later, you stood beside Michael, a orange shock blanket draped over his shoulders as the two of you watched a teacher and your classmates get wheeled out on stretchers, a paramedic standing with the two of you. Her questions felt lost on Michael, because while you tried to help him answer, you didn’t exactly know what was going on. She knelt down beside him, trying to comfort him, slowly dropping her questions before finally the police arrived. You were permitted to leave before Michael was, because while you didn’t know much, you still sort of counted as a witness. Leaving Michael alone in there was tough, because you could see how shaken he’d been, but you found yourself sitting on the curb next to his car. Your mind fluttered back to that kiss, as quick and impulsive as it was, and you started to wonder whether you should bring it up to Michael - in the end deciding that yes, you should, but not that day. Too much had happened to just casually approach Michael and ask about what the fuck that kiss was about.

            Eventually, footsteps approached you, and you were greeted with the sight of a slightly more calm Michael. His hands still shook slightly, and he fumbled with his jacket and his bag and everything he could get his hands on, but he wasn’t as he had been inside, no longer on the verge of tears or a panic attack. You stood to greet him, about to speak when he stopped in front of you.

            “I’m gonna go to the hospital,” he said, voice quiet. “Y’know, uh... wait with Mr.Heere, I guess. I’ll drop you off-”

            You didn’t hesitate. “If you think I’m not staying with you, you’re an idiot, Mell.”

            He cracked a small smile at that, insisting he was okay to drive as you reluctantly climbed into the passenger seat. Taking the chance to call your mom, you explained everything you could: that you were going to stay with Michael at the hospital after something happened at the play and he was worried about his friends, saying that he needed someone else there for support and you wanted to be that someone. For a moment, you thought she was going to say you had to come home - but then she agreed, understanding as always, and asked if you needed anything. You rattled off a list of general stuff - water, maybe a phone charger or two if they could bring them - before thanking her. She told you she wouldn’t be able to bring it immediately, since they’re at dinner - although saying she was willing to leave early if it was needed, and you coaxed that away. You didn’t need any of this stuff immediately. You only thanked her again.

            You’d never seen Jeremy’s dad before - and, well, you never had a reason to. But... he wasn’t like what you expected. He looked like he was slightly taller than Jeremy, but heavier and more tired. He had this thick, ginger beard, and a balding head, and you noticed how he had soft, gentle eyes. He greeted you and Michael with a small wave, a cup of shitty hospital coffee on the table next to him. Michael introduced the two of you, and part of you felt guilty for hating Jeremy all of a sudden. His dad treated you so kindly, as if you were also one of Jeremy’s friends. As if you were here because you were worried about fucking Jeremy Heere, and not because you wanted to make sure Michael was okay and had some extra support.

            An hour later, you received a text from your mother saying that she was waiting outside. So you told Michael where you were going, and you wandered your way out of the hospital, taking note of everywhere you went so that you could get back to where you were without wandering like a lost puppy without Michael. Your mom handed you your bag, giving you a hug and a kiss on the forehead, saying that she was always a phone call away if you wanted to go home or talk or needed anything else. Your heart swelled in your chest, and you fought back tears as you hugged her and told her you loved her, before you left her and your dad to return to Michael.

            Exhaustion hit you on the way back, and you plugged in two chargers for you and Michael’s phones. Eventually Michael fell asleep, head on your shoulder, and it’s just you and Mr.Heere and a few other people in the waiting room, questions filling your heads. You watched Jeremy’s dad stand, offering to get you coffee if you wanted, and you politely refused. Your head fell against Michael’s, as uncomfortable as it was for your neck, and eventually, against all the discomfort of that day, you fell asleep.

[inthesummerswelter]

recipe for disaster: chapter two

Chapter Two: Basil

 He always comes and bothers her when she’s trying to get some work done.

Penn deliberately tip-toes around Ashton when he’s deeply in the throes of studying, placing little juice glasses at his elbow and sliding a plate of homemade garlic bread when he lets out a particularly frustrated fuck this shit goddamn out into the crisp air.

(She learned early on that small gestures like that were the best way to deal, considering that asking him how things were going was greeted with either glares and discontented mumbles or an hour-long lecture on how absurd higher education is that she really didn’t have the time to listen to.)

But, no. He can’t return the favor.

Always poking his fucking head in the small greenhouse on the terrace – an attachment that Penn had to beg the landlord to fund, with the promises of fresh fruits and veg year-round – when she’s trying to keep to her watering schedule.

He’ll sneak up on her and stick his cold nose on her neck, causing her to slosh the watering can’s contents all down her front, or tell her that she’s got something on her face when she’s pulling weeds, smearing dirt on her cheek when she turns to look at him.

And she’ll go to try to wipe it off and only make it worse, because her hands are already covered with soil, and he just stands there and sniggers at her.

Five years old in a grown man’s body.

So, Penn really shouldn’t be surprised when she’s yanked backwards by the suspenders on her gardening overalls, then, but she stumbles anyway, a yelp escaping her lips as her trowel goes flying off into the bed beside her.

“Fuck, Penn, get a hold of yourself!”

He says it with a smile tracing the words, the bastard.

She turns around, whacking him in the chest – which admittedly hurts her hand more than it should have – and relishing in his wince of pain, even though Penn knows it’s been faked.

Ashton’s hair’s a bit more mussed than usual, which is saying something, but it’s also a bit, well, different.

She steps closer to him, straddling the rows of soil, and squints. “Did you get a haircut?”

Reflexively, his hand goes up to shuffle through it, and there’s a touch of uncertainty on his face, too, which Penn finds quite strange.

“Well, not just one hair. Quite a few, I think.”

She turns back around, ignoring that poor excuse for a dad joke, and starts to pick up the beets she’s been unearthing and tosses them into the colander sitting on the gravel path.

“It looks good. What’s up? You never bother me unless it’s something importan - oh, wait.”

She lets the end of the sentence drawl off lazily, stretching the kinks out of her spine.

Hearing his bark of laughter behind her, Penn smiles to herself - a secret little grin that only tilts up the corners of her mouth – but she makes sure not to let him see. It would go straight to his head.

Excitement laces his voice as he says, “It’s autumn now. First day and all, and it’s getting nice and brisk outside, and I thought we could maybe go out and get coffee and such.”

He ends the thought firmly, much more of a statement than a question, because he and Penn both know she’s definitely going to say yes.

It’s autumn. The season of pumpkin-spice and cinnamon and chai and anise and rich, earthy flavors that send Penn’s head spinning in the best possible way.

The way the sunlight filters through the panes of glass forming the walls of the greenhouse hides the truth of the colder winds, Penn soon finds out, as she and Ashton step over the threshold and back out onto the terrace, making their way towards Penn’s flat.

They hunch towards each other instinctively, elbows brushing, and Penn’s regretting the thin long-sleeve she’s got on now. Ashton kicks the back of her foot accidentally, muttering, “oops,” and Penn just nudges her elbow into his ribs.

The colander of beets is dropped unceremoniously on the kitchen counter, to be washed later, and Cardy opens one bleary eye from where she and Clove are lying on the day’s mail.

Penn clucks her tongue at them after letting herself relish in the warmer atmosphere, and Clove’s tongue lolls out.

She decides right then and there to take them along, so she opens a drawer in the kitchen and throws two leads in Ashton’s general direction.

He catches them in the face.

“I’m assuming we’re taking the scamps with us today, then?”

She mumbles out a yes around the scarf she’s got gripped between her teeth, caught up in searching for her mittens and hat, and Ashton huffs, getting down on his knees to complete the task. Found, mittens, hat, and scarf get tossed onto the counter beside the beets as Penn exchanges her gardening clogs for proper boots, lacing them up as fast as she can.

“Okay, ready,” she says, slipping hands through the sleeves of her coat, flipping her hair out from where it’s caught under her collar, and pulling on the necessary woolen accessories.

“Jesus, it’s just a walk, not a march to death-row!”

Ashton’s practically lying on the floor, wrestling with Clove in vain to clip the lead onto his collar. Penn shares a look with Cardy, who’s already prepped and perked up considerably, considering that the word walk generally means a treat of some sort.

Finally, what seems like ages later, a sudden click and an exclamation of victory lets Penn know that Ashton’s caught himself a pup.

Of course, Clove soon catches on to the concept of treats himself and practically drags all of them down the five flights of stairs leading to the outside world.

The Shelties trot along happily in front of Ashton and Penn, pausing every so often to snuffle along an interesting piece of pavement, giving them a good leisurely pace at which to wander along to their favorite bakery.

When they go out together – which isn’t often, considering that Ashton’s classes and her work schedule aren’t really cohesive – he’s an idiot.

And by an idiot, Penn, of course, means that he’s an absolute child. Always grabbing at her hand and pointing at something shiny and colourful that catches his attention, or hunching over to whisper more terrible dad jokes in her ear, eyebright and full of laughter. So much, that they get stopped on the streets and asked where they met and how long they’ve been together.

He usually butts in before Penn can answer, twining their fingers together and inventing a convoluted story on the spot about how he rescued her from a burning building or something like that.

(She doesn’t actually know what he says. She usually tunes out his tales and instead concentrates on how his hand flexes in her own and how his eyebrows smush together after she pinches his side.)

There’s a lot of ridiculous pet names, too, normally. Things like sweetums, honeycakes, and muffin, to name a few. Generally gag-inducing and sugary enough to rot some molars.

And when she wrinkles her nose at his blatant overacting, he just smiles back at his, dimples poking into his cheeks as he prods her nose with a finger. Which she, of course, bites.

(He always fakes a grimace and ruffles her hair, much to the amusement of the inquirer.)

Eventually, when some nice young girls a few years younger than them ask the inevitable question – after they had entered the shop and Ashton had plucked off Penn’s beanie and shoved it crookedly on his own head, mirroring his slanted smile - Penn takes a stand.

Ashton’s momentarily distracts by the display of scones in the bakery’s shelves, so she jumps in immediately, rattling off their usual order and then turning back to the girls.

“I saved him from drowning,” she says, entirely serious, fingers curled around her customary to-go cardboard cup of cocoa.

And, it’s true, too.

Well, sort of.

They gasp and begin to press her for more information, but she holds up a hand to her mouth and tells them that he sometimes gets flashbacks, so she can’t really say much more while he’s around. They’re out of the door long before he straightens up again, and Penn’s sure that he’s left a few more fingerprints on the glass cases.

The current worker in the shop – Lord’s Oven, as the locals know it – already has their order memorized and boxes it up within minutes. She thanks Michael, complimenting him on the stripe of blue he’s recently added into his hair, and picks up the simple white box, carrying it over to a table situated right on the edge of the outdoor patio area that the shop recently opened.

The scent of lemon-poppyseed muffins and pumpkin ginger-snap biscuits wafts up from the opened box, and Penn smiles when she sees that Michael’s thrown in a few slices of the spiced upside-down apple bundt cake for free.

He’s a sweet kid, really, for his slightly daunting exterior.

Ashton’s already reaching one large paw in, not a hint of manners about him as he practically tears through the pretty packaging ribbon still trapped around the edges, and Penn smacks his hand away. She shushes him as he begins to protest, and then he frowns down at the top of her head, grumbles,  and steals a sip of her peppermint hot chocolate.

Prat.

  Ironically enough, it was the first day of autumn, two years prior, that they’d met. Not the autumn that it always says on the calendars, the date that comes and goes with little mention. No, the real first day of autumn that steals the breath from your lungs and hands it up for the brisk wind to waltz around the burning trees.

It was a day that caught Penn by surprise, as many of the season-changes do. She’s out on the terrace, sweeping up and trying to keep the new space clean.

Looking at the little dial on the watch that she’ll eventually lose in a month, she sees that it’s her one-week anniversary of moving into this rooftop flat, and her brush-work gets a bit more chipper.

It’s exhilarating, being out on her own for the first time in what feels like ages, getting a proper job and a proper start at a new life.

Penn’s shuffling about with her broom, clearing away the cobwebs and dead leaves left from the lack of inhabitants, trying to scope things out up here. She hasn’t had time to explore the outdoor space all week, considering the long hours she’s been working at the restaurant. The terrace itself can’t be very large. It spans a small gap in between the neighboring flat and hers, but, as she puts up her thumb to judge the distance, she thinks that there might be room for a small greenhouse.

Maybe only big enough for two benches or raised beds, but that’s definitely enough to grow her own herbs and maybe start a small veg patch, something that Gran would definitely approve of.

“Fresh is best,” she would say, puttering about her own blocks of tilled soil in her back lot, warden of the tiny gravel-bed streets that wound their way around her city of plants. The bean trellises were skyscrapers to Penn’s young eyes, leafy towers that sprung out of the ground like green magic, and the tomato cages exotic, with the circles of metal modern art.

Penn’s knack lies in more of the preparation of the food rather than its cultivation, really, but Gran’s taught her enough that she’s reasonably sure she could handle a rooftop garden of her own.              

If she can wield a boning knife, a trowel shouldn’t be much harder. Right?

There’s another small pile of last season’s leaves resting just where the bend in the building occurs, an architectural addendum that gives her at least a modicum of privacy from the person residing in the flat across the way.

She’s yet to meet them – whoever they may be, she doesn’t have a fucking clue except a pair of black wellies abandoned by their slider door – but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. Penn’s more of a loner to be quite frank. She’s a singular in a world of plurals.

Peas and carrots.

Cookies and cream.

Prosciutto and melon.

Thinly sliced duck liver and braised sweet onions.

And then there’s Penn.

And she is quite alright with that. After all, she’s got her own little plural to look after, a gift from Gran, although she doesn’t even know where the idea of getting two small dogs for a nineteen year-old grandchild would ever come from.

But, yes, sadly on some days and happily on others, Penn’s the mother of a pair of Shetland sheepdog pups, a brother and sister named Clove and Cardamom respectively.

(Right now, they’re just settling into their middle teens – in human years – so Penn’s got to keep a sharp eye out for any mischief.)

She can see Clove through the sliding glass doorway, slouching about on their shared rug by the kitchen counter, his impression of a dead log spot-on. But Cardy, who had been trotting around outside with her, exploring her new domain, is nowhere in sight. Quickly gathering up the last of the leaves, Penn puts away the broom just as the first few trickles of rain start to come out of the sky.

“Fuck.”

And that pretty much sums up her feelings on the downpour that drenches anything and everything still stupid enough to be outside in the seconds that follow.

But, even after much calling and wheedling and shaking the treat bag, Penn’s forced to return outside into the deluge to physically locate her wayward dog.

The terrace itself is shaped in a sort of ‘L,’ the only difference from the letter being that the angle of the actual space is quite a bit greater, more of an obtuse shape. Penn can see most of the patio and a good expanse of the neighboring flat from her spot at the kitchen door, but there’s still a blind spot right where the corner occurs.

With a deeply heaved sigh that’s got Clove staring up at her worriedly, Penn tugs on her own pair of wellies – brown with bears speckled all over them - and pulls on a mac, striding out into the torrent.

It’s the kind of rain that intends on getting its victim as drenched as possible, throwing all sorts of tricks about so it can slide under a hood, glue long strands of hair to the back of a neck, freeze the tips of fingers. Penn digs her heels in, gritting her teeth, as the wind gives a particularly violent gust, pushing her into the wall.

Grabbing the corner for support, Penn goes to round it, intending on finding Cardy if it’s the last thing she’ll do. And it might be, considering the storm seems to have ricocheted up the scale from heavy downpour to raging sea squall.

However, something’s blocking the path that her legs had intended to take, and Penn falls forward, eye clenched shut and palms out. She’s fully prepared for the stinging grit coating her hands, imprinting into her skin in angry patterns.

Instead, her hands hit something – remarkably – warm and very much animate, judging by the whoosh of breath that’s let out, catching her left ear.

Her fingers flex in with shock, nails digging into skin, and a hand curls its way around her wrist.

“Ouch.”

It’s a person.

Her neighbor, she can only assume.

Her neighbor, lying half-naked on a plastic lawn chair, apparently deciding that the middle of the rainstorm is the perfect time to go sunbathing.

“Hello. ‘M Ashton. I live just across the way.”

The voice, a mid-baritone, comes from the area above her head, and she nods, carefully extricating herself from where she’s laying on top of him and trying not to stare. Which she fails at tremendously.

(But it’s really not her fault.)

Hazel eyes blink up at her, rainwater coating the lashes and turning them a dark honey colour, just two or three shades darker than his hair, which, though being plastered against his forehead, appears to be wavy and unruly in the best of circumstances.

A dimple pops out of his cheek, drawing her attention to his mouth and a crooked grin.

Fuck.

“And you are…?”

“Penn, I’m Penn Bunting. Have you seen my dog?”

Surprisingly, Ashton nods, reaching one long – tanned, muscular, God – arm underneath the chair and drawing out a damp Cardamom, who looks more like a rat than a dog at this point.

She gives Penn a pitiful, apologetic look, but Penn’s having none of that, thank you, and frowns back down at her, already preparing a scolding in her head.

But the neighbor’s talking again, and she vaguely registers that he’s got an Australian accent.

“Are you cold? You should get your dog back inside. The weather’s absolutely dreadful.”

There’s a horribly long moment where she just stares at him in shock, completely baffled, and then her mouth starts moving before she can stop it because it’s either talking or uncontrollable laughter.

“I mean, I’m at least wearing a mac and boots! You need to get inside, before you catch pneumonia and die or something. What are you even doing out here anyway?”

He shrugs, sitting up from his prone position, skin obviously paler than normal due to the extended exposure to the elements. Already, Penn knows that he’ll be much taller than her once he stands, given how close his head is to her shoulders right now. “Just, uh, hanging out, I guess. I like the rain. It’s rejuvenating. And, anyway, I’ve got a hot bath drawn, so, if you’ll excuse me…”

She’s almost tempted to ask if he’s got little floral-scented soaps and floating tea candles too, but Penn doesn’t know him nearly well enough yet for that sort of teasing, which is why she surprises herself when she blurts out, “I make omelets most mornings. For breakfast. And tea, too. You’re welcome to come over sometime, if you’d like.”

Apparently, she surprises him, too, because he trips over the leg of the chair as he’s turning back to his flat. His hand flies up to ruffle the back of his head, and Ashton begins to nod cautiously, saying, “Yeah. Yeah, that sounds good…definitely sometime.”

He waves at her, a manly shake of the wrist, and Penn tries to smile back, inwardly cringing at her lack of social etiquette – who invites a half-naked man to breakfast after falling on top of him? – and the feeling of Cardy wriggling and dripping water down the front of her mac.

(When she gets back to the flat, however, stripping down to her knickers – the rain’s soaked through practically everything, so she’s doing this for warmth – and grabbing a blanket to wrap herself in and a towel to rub Cardy down with, she doesn’t expect to see a porch light on across the other side of the terrace and a dark head peering through a window.)

(And she certainly doesn’t expect Ashton to pop by in three days’ time, bringing a carton of orange juice and a blush in his cheeks, because – didn’t she mention? – Penn’s casually flipping the eggs in her bra and a pair of men’s boxer shorts.)

  She gets knocked out of the daze of memories quite literally. Clove’s tangled himself around one of the legs of her chair and spotted a flock of doves. Her chair shakes violently, tilts onto two legs, and Penn has to pinwheel her arms furiously to stabilize herself.

Ashton chuckles, collecting their napkins and waste, settling the leftovers back into the box neatly, and tying the ribbon back up in a reasonable approximation of a bow.

The joke’s on him though, because he’s got a nice little froth’stache sitting on his upper lip, and she’s definitely going to let him walk around with that for a bit. Maybe she won’t even tell him at all.

They keep walking down the sidewalk, taking a few turns here and there until the dogs begin to recognize the area and tug on the leashes. Here there are tree-cages lining the streets, providing a red-gold overhanging archway of foliage. The door they stop in front of – for all that it and the rest of the facade looks like any other building on the well-maintained street – gives Penn a buzz of excitement that travels under her skin, a mild electric shock.

The bay window, full to bursting with leafy ferns and looking like a veritable hothouse in the middle of the city, gives no other indication as to what might lie in wait inside the flat. Penn shifts the bakery box underneath her left arm, passing over Cardy’s lead to Ashton, who accepts it gamely.

He’s as full of eagerness as the dogs, just as bright-eyed and enthusiastic. The moustache is gone now, evaporated, and that’s probably for the best, considering who they’re visiting.

She reaches forward and grasps the patina-coated knocker, rapping it firmly against the wood of the door twice, before leaning back on her heels and waiting.

A solid three minutes pass before it slowly creaks open to admit them, and Penn feels like she’s four years-old all over again, staring at the entranceway with unwarranted anticipation.

“Well, are you just going to stand there like a pair bloody loons, or are you going to come inside?”

[jae-bummer]

Hot Chocolate

Request: got7 jaebum/jinyoung and prompt 6 please~

6) When you’re outside shoveling snow and your new neighbor can’t help but notice how cold you look. 

Members: Got7′s JB x Jinyoung x Reader

Type: Fluff

Jinyoung stirred another peppermint stick into his hot chocolate and sighed. Standing at the living room window and looking down upon the street below, his eyes had trouble focusing on the absence of color flooding his vision. Snow had been falling heavily for days now, with no hope of relief. The city had long since stopped clearing the streets and spreading salt, so virtually half of Seoul was left immobile. He had been marooned in the dorm with his members for several days, near freezing, and eating nothing but junk food. 

Which by all three counts, had him on edge.

Accidentally allowing the porcelain cup to hit the glass, he winced as the small clinking noise reverberated through the air. He wasn’t sure why he felt so uncomfortable watching you, but he did. 

“You’ve been standing there for like fifteen minutes,” Jaebum sighed waddling up in the Christmas onesie Jackson had picked out for him that year. “Is the cute neighbor out there again?” 

“Depends on your definition of cute,” Jinyoung grimaced. “She kind of looks like a marshmallow right now with all of the layers she has on.”

“What in the hell is she doing?” Jaebum muttered, narrowing his eyes. “I...is she....shoveling snow?” 

“Judging by the shovel and the motion in which she is sticking it into the ground, yes, Jaebum, I believe her to be shoveling snow,” JInyoung grumbled, shooting a wary look at the older member. 

“That sass was unwarranted,” JB grumbled. “You know damn well it wasn’t meant as an actual question to be answered.” 

“Sorry,” the younger man sighed, looking down guiltily at his cup. “I’m just...feeling a little closed in lately.” 

“Go put on your Christmas pajamas,” Jaebum nodded, looking down at his own outfit. His onesie was bright green, with the edges in the shape of a Christmas tree. The hood of the whole ensemble tilted upwards into a point with a glittering star on top. 

It was the antithesis of everything Jaebum stood for. 

“I know what you’re thinking,” he continued. “I look ridiculous. But it’s funny how freeing you feel after you simply just don’t give a damn anymore.” 

Jinyoung lifted his brows before letting out a short laugh. He turned back to the window and pressed his forehead against the cold glass. “We can’t just let her freeze to death.” 

“Who says she’s freezing?” Jaebum sighed, shuffling forward to join Jinyoung in the window. “She’s shoveling on her own accord anyway. No one is making her do it.” 

“Maybe her boss is making her come into work and she can’t get her car out of the complex,” Jinyoung whispered. “Or maybe she has friends she made Christmas plans with.” 

“And how is any of that our problem?” Jaebum croaked. 

“Well, we wouldn’t be very good neighbors if we watched our fellow complex resident succumb to frostbite before our very eyes,” Jinyoung nodded. 

“So...”Jaebum trailed, giving Jinyoung a side eye. “Like...should we invite her up here for hot chocolate? I can make a sign to put in the window and-”

“I was thinking we could bring the hot chocolate down to her,” Jinyoung whispered, waiting for the barrage of complaints to begin flowing from JB’s lips. 

“But...that would involve us going out in the snow,” Jaebum muttered with tight lips. “That’s not my goal here.” 

“I’m well aware,” Jinyoung chuckled. “But come on, where’s your holiday spirit?” 

“It’s inside...where the warmth is,” Jaebum nodded. 

“It’s not exactly warm,” Jinyoung sighed, finally pulling himself away from the window. “We all kind of just crowd around Yugyeom and use his body heat. And we fool ourselves into thinking it’s warm.” 

“And I’m happy with that existence,” JB smiled, turning to walk away from his member. As he expected, Jinyoung reached out, grabbing firmly at the top of his jumper, and tugged him backwards. 

“You aren’t going to go out there alone...are you?” Jaebum hissed, closing his eyes in defeat. 

“Now why would I do a silly thing like that?” Jinyoung chuckled. “I’ll get your coat. Start prepping some cocoa.” 

You hated the snow. 

You hadn’t quite realized that fact until this very moment, but you did. You really and truly hated the snow. 

Taking another deep breath in through your mouth, you nearly collapsed into a coughing fit as the cold air assaulted the back of your throat. You had been nursing a cold for the past few days and had just ran out of medication that morning. You needed to get out to pick up your cough syrup and had no idea how you would get there. Most public transport had been shut down until the weather cleared, and your car was snowed in at the garage attached to your building. You didn’t have many options. 

Dragging out the shovel you owned, which wasn’t much larger than a spade, you were determined to free your car and make your way to the drug store. There were no other options. 

You attempted to take a breath in and snort up the mucus attempting to make a run toward your lips, only to realize the phlegm had frozen in your nostrils. You groaned as you reached up and wiped at your eyes with the backs of your mittens. This was miserable and a hopeless cause. 

As your shovel moved swiftly through another clump of snow you talked it through with yourself. Was your medication really worth it? Sure, you could make your way to the pharmacy, but would they have what you needed? All of the what if’s and maybes circulated through your brain, aiding you to become  your own devil’s advocate. It was about as cold on the street as it had grown in your apartment. The heating system was laughable at best and hot water took hours to finally run through your plumbing. You were wearing the same amount of clothing on the sidewalk as you had been on your couch, so really, the only difference in the situation was the amount of physical activity you were doing. 

You weren’t going to die. 

At least not today. You thought it would take at least a few more days for the frostbite to set in. 

“Excuse me!” a firm voice called out from nearby the apartment entrance. You blinked quickly, attempting to clear your vision enough to see the few yards between yourself and whoever was attempting to talk to you. “Yes, hello, you there!” 

You lowered your head and narrowed your focus, finally spotting two moving bodies coming toward you in the snow. Had someone called the cops to intervene with the crazy person scraping ice along the sidewalk? If so, you probably wouldn’t even put up a fight. 

After a moment, you realized the figures weren’t police at all, but two men you had actually seen before. They lived down the hall from you with several other individuals. You were under the impression that they were an idol group, as several JYP musicians frequented the same complex. Although they were nice to look at, you had never actually taken the time to talk while crossing paths. 

“Hi?” you croaked, looking up a them, a bit confused. While both of them were handsome, one was dressed in a Christmas tree onesie, and you weren’t exactly sure how to react to that. 

“I’m Jinyoung,” the normally dressed boy said with a small bow. His dark hair was pushed back into a beanie, exposing most of his face to the elements. A thick, maroon scarf was wrapped several times above his charcoal colored pea coat. He buried his chin into it as he spoke, obviously trying to warm himself in the harsh weather. 

“This is Jaebum,” he nodded, motioning to the Christmas tree beside him. 

“I know what you’re thinking,” Jaebum grumbled, tilting his brows. “And stop thinking it.”

“To be honest,” you hissed, your breath becoming vapor before you. “I’m thinking quite a few things...” 

“Stop thinking all of them,” he muttered. “It was a gift and it’s incredibly warm.” 

“Right,” you nodded. “So...uh...can I help you two?” 

“No,” Jinyoung said simply. A small smile began to grow larger on his lips. “But we can help you.” 

You lifted your brows, becoming mildly interested, but knowing you shouldn’t. It wasn’t like this guy was going to pull cough syrup from his pocket. “I’m listening.” 

“We saw you...from our apartment,” Jaebum sighed, kicking at a bit of snow near his foot. “And we felt bad.” 

“We sympathized with your cause,” Jinyoung nodded, attempting to phrase the words a bit more eloquently than his counterpart. “We’re unsure where you’re trying to get to, and unsure of how we could even possibly help, but...” 

He pulled his hands from behind his back and brought forward a small, metal tumbler. He pushed it out towards you, keeping it safely wrapped in his gloved hands. “It’s hot chocolate. You must be freezing out here in the snow.” 

“Oh,” you coughed, hardly believing the small, but incredibly kind gesture. “Uh...thanks.” 

You took the cup from his hands and relished in the small zig-zags of steam rising from the top. The warmth made your fingers tingle and you couldn’t help but smile at the new development. 

“What are you doing anyway?” Jaebum asked bluntly, crossing his arms. “What is that important that you’re willing to risk limbs to escape?” 

“I have the flu,” you sighed, glancing up at them. You knew the dark circles beneath your eyes were enough to hint them to that. “I just ran out of medicine, and I have to get to the store. I’m more miserable sitting around sick than sifting through this snow.” 

“Well,” Jinyoung chirped, his face becoming bright. “Why don’t you come up to our place? With a couple of men living in the same space who are constantly nursing illnesses, we may have what you’re looking for.” 

“It’ll save you a trip,” Jaebum nodded. “Whether to the pharmacy or morgue. Your choice really.” 

“Please ignore my crass friend,” Jinyoung sighed. “We’re musicians, so we’re often worn down and sick. We usually have about twelve different medications circulating amongst us at any one time.” 

“He won’t take no for an answer,” Jaebum smiled, nudging you with his elbow. “Believe me, I’ve tried.” 

“You’d really do that?” you asked, hopeful again for a moment. “For a stranger?” 

“You aren’t a stranger,” Jinyoung smirked. “You’re our neighbor. And you never know when we may need a favor from you one day.” 

“Ah, so there it is,” Jaebum nodded. “He’s in this for the inevitable situation when we have to borrow an ingredient. Keep your sugar and eggs stocked up, kid.” 

“It’s Y/N, right?” Jinyoung asked, stepping forward and looping his arm in yours. “You have a cough? I think Mark may have just gotten over something similar.” 

“Mark?” you asked, lifting your brows. 

“Our eldest member,” Jaebum nodded, walking on your opposite side. He kept his hands to himself, but walked closely, sponging any warmth he could. “He had some sort of laryngitis. He sounded like a cartoon character for weeks.” 

“It made for interesting performances,” Jinyoung chuckled. “When you have a rapper who sounds like the slug lady from Monster’s Inc.” 

“Roz,” Jaebum corrected.  

“But you definitely don’t sound like her,” Jinyoung clucked. “So maybe we’ll have to get out those cold pills Yugyeom was using.”

“Yugyeom?” you croaked. There were so many names being thrown at you, it was hard to keep up. 

“The youngest member,” Jaebum nodded. “Sorry, is this a lot? You must be tired from all of the shoveling, maybe we should take it easy.” 

“Take a sip of your hot chocolate,” Jinyoung nodded, holding the door open for you to enter the building’s lobby. “Hot chocolate makes everything better.”

[fearofaherobrine]

Roleplay Server Log #193

“Cp Drunk, Steffan's Rude Awakening, Jean Returns”

[CP] - Sam, bring me that Polish shit

[Sam] Makes a cheerful salute and gingerly gives Cp the rather small bottle.

[Magnolia] Turns a bit more red at the sight of Steve- Winston...

[Winston] - Don't attack

[Steve] Hey it's a little kid! Did you bring more of your creepypasta's family to visit Cp? - Kneels near her- Hey kiddo, what's your name?

[Magnolia] Huffs- My name is Magnolia, and I am a general

[Steve] Oh! Sorry! My bad. I'm Father Steve- sticks out his hand with a big smile.

[Magnolia] Shies away-

[Steve] Withdraws. - If you don't like being touched, that's cool too. Nice to see you again Winston.

[TLOT] Same. Whats's new Winston?

[Winston] - Likewise, not much has happened, other than todays fiasco that is

[TLOT] Is it a fiasco? I feel like we fixed at least one problem.

[Doc] Two maybe, I think Blake will think twice before starting anything now either.

[Winston] - I'll be swamped with training a new general for the ghasts

[Doc] You know, Gk really will do it if you let him. He won't want to be over there all the time, but he'll keep them in line until you have a permenant replacement.

[Winston] - But the generals deal with the day to day need of their mobs, it's sort of necessary that they be there

[Steve] To Magnolia - I think you're about to see something rare, so watch close.

[CP] Is downing the vodka-

[Sam] Brings Lie a Capirinha, it's full of fragrant lime chunks.

[Lie] Reaches for it and accidentally knocks out the bar under all of CP's empty shot glasses causing most of them to shatter when they hit the ground- Shit!

[Sam] Jumps in alarm.

[Doc] Lie! Be careful!

[Lie] - I'm sorry Sam

[CP] - How the Nether?

[TLOT] She's in creative...

[CP] - Oh for fucks sake why?

[Sam] Looks sadly at the broken glass.

[Doc] It's okay, I'll clean it up. - Xe runs a hand above the glass bits, making the pixels melt and run into a large blob of irregular glass.

[TLOT] I found one intact. I'll make some more.

[Lie] - I'm so sorry!

[Magnolia] Gives Steve a confused look-

[Steve] That teeny bottle will actually get Cp blind drunk.

[TLOT] It's okay Lie.

[Doc] Is playing with the glob of glass, and rolls it into a carrot shape, curling the thin point into a delicate curve.

[CP] Downs the entire small bottle and thunks it onto the bar block next to him, he's already swaying-

[Lie] - CP?

[TLOt] Ah, he's had a hard day, let him have his fuzzy head.

[Winston] - Oh dear, he may skip over some of his usual stages if he's already this woozy

[TLOT] What's the worst that can happen? He passes out? So what, it's okay. There's beds downstairs.

[Doc] Heck I could carry him home if need be.

[Winston] - He has different stages when he get's drunk, first is more aggressive, then comes lust, then more anger, and then he gets cuddly...

[Doc] So we're going straight to.. what?

[Winston] - I'm not sure...

[TLOT] watches Cp curiously- You okay Cp?

[CP] Barely manages to flip him off-

[Doc] Is making little bumps on the glass now.

[Lie] - Having fun there Doc?

[Steve] Sits next to Cp, and motions for Sam to bring him something.

[Sam] Brings him a mug of cocoa that smells strongly of peppermint and alcohol

[Doc] Hmm? Oh, yes. I should do this more often, it's rather relaxing - Xe pulls the glass out a bit longer and adds a little curve to the fat part.

[CP] Slumps against his mate-

[Lie] - Ah! CP!

[TLOT] Leans over Steve and fixes the bar, just in case.

[Winston] - Hmmm, looks like we jumped straight to cuddly

[Doc] Finishes what's obviously a glass dildo and slips it into Lie's inventory from behind, before taking out some cake for Yaunfen.

[Yaunfen] - BURP! BURP!

[CP] Wraps his arms around Lie, a lot purr escaping him-

[TLOT] Gravitates to a window, - what a lovely night. Seems like even the mobs are relaxing. It's too hot to fight.

[Winston] - Magnolia and I are probably the only mobs here used to this sort of heat

[Doc] is breaking the cake into chunks and hand- feeding Yaunfen- it's nice for a change

[Lie] Yelps as CP pulls her into his lap-

[Steve] Someone's feeling love- dovey

[Lie] - Yeah, although he hasn't been this clingy for a long time

[CP] Is just holding Lie close-

[TLOT] he hasn't been this drunk or stressed in a long time either. I'm sure Doc's little irritations are background noise at this point.

[Doc] Hey!

[Lie

Reaches back to run her fingers through his hair- If only he'd let someone help him with this coronation stuff, that would at least alleviate some of his stress...

[Steve] I can help!

[Lie] - But you know he won't let you

[Steve] Pats Cp's arm- but it's the thought that counts. Right big guy?

[TLOT] What actually needs to be done?

[Lie] - I don't know, I can't make heads or tails of his paperwork since he's writing most of it in short hand

[Doc] People still do that?! It's practically a dead language!

[CP] Mumbles- Picked it up from Slender

[Doc] But he's a demon right?  I would've pegged him for a Latin enthusiast when it comes to encryption.

[Cp] - He's learned a lot and his proxis don't usually last long enough to learn latin

[Doc] Ouch.... I see. Did you pick up your predilection for making paperwork from him too?

[CP] - He helped me set it up since I was having a lot of difficulty keeping everything straight without it

[TLOT] that's such an odd thought, him organizing your mobs and stuff, since he couldn't actually enter your world directly.

[CP] - Yes he could, if he's in a good mood and I set it up like I did when Splender first arrived, then there's no pronblem

[Doc] chuckles lightly-

[Lie] - Well, at least Slender seems like a good teacher when he wants to be

[CP] Glares at Doc- What you laughin at?

[Doc] I'm imagining a bunch of Endermen crowding around him like he's their dad,.

[CP] - Endrea hadn't been made at that point...

[Doc] You should have seen her throw down earlier for Enderbro, he was really touched.

[Lie] - Awwwww, she did?

[Doc] Bro got nuzzles and the under the wing hug, I think she would have eaten Grayson if he'd persisted.

[Winston] - She normally will just toss him around like a rag doll

[Yaunfen] Baps Doc's arm, wanting more food- Burp!

[Steffan] Stirs uneasily in his sleep-

[Ashe] Lifts his head- Mama!  He's waking up!

[willow] -wiggles on top of steffan-

[Steffan] Opens his eyes with a groan-

[Ashe] Leans over his face- Hi!

{Steffan] AAAAAAAAA!!!

[willow and oak] -fall off the bed in surprise of the loud noise-

[Endrea] Enters the room- Ashe, that's rather rude

[Enderbro] Comes dashing in - Yay! We can play now!

[Steffan] One eye is sort of twitching- What the hell happened?!

[Endrea] - Hera gave you something which made you fall asleep, I brought you to my home for your own protection

[willow] -is patting ashe-

[Steffan] Your home? This doesn't looks like....

[Enderbro] Awed whisper - We're in the End!!!!

[Steffan] Goes white with fear-

[Endrea] - It's alright, no harm will come to you here, and once the heat wave passes in the Overworld I will take you home

[willow] -keeps patting ashe-

[Steffan] O-okay.... don't worry, I won't set one square toe outside on my own...

[Enderbro] So many bros outside!

[Ashe] Looks at Willow- What is it?

[oak] -climbs back into the bed-

[willow] bo... bo... k... bok  BOK!

[Endrea] Gets a very proud expression-

[Ashe] - MAMA!  Willow talked!

[Steffan] Uhhhh..

[Enderbro] Chicken dragon!

[Endrea] - I think she wants you to read her a book Ashe

[Ashe] - Okay!  Wait right here Willow!- He rushes off to find a book to read to her

[Steffan] OH book! That's way more likely bro.

[Enderbro] WE GET STORYTIME TOO?!

[oak] -stares at steffan while his on the bed-

[Endrea] Chuckles- Yes little one, you will get a story time as well

[Enderbro] Leaps into Steffans lap-

[Steffan] MY LEGS!

[Ashe] Runs back in with a book and climbs onto the bed, taking his more human shape- Okay, come here Willow, I'll read now

[oak] -jumps on to steffan at well-

[Steffan] ARGH!

[Endrea] Leans her neck over and gently picks up Oak- Now now Oak, you can sit with me

[Steffan] Bro!

[Enderbro] Rolls over like a cat and squishes him- what?

[willow] -curls next to ashe and pats the book- bok

[oak] -wiggles playfully in endrea's grasp-

[Ashe] Begins reading, he's reading Treasure Island-

[Endrea] Puts Oak down in between her front legs-

[Enderbro] Pulls out some paper and makes several origami hats. He uses his noodly arms to put one on everyone, including Endrea.

[oak] -paps one of endrea's legs-

[Endrea] - What is it Oak?  Are you hungry?  And thank you Enderbro

[oak] m... ma MA!

{Endrea] Lets out a deep rumbling purr, she's so very happy right now-

[oak] -curls against endrea- ma

[Steffan] Awwww... Your kids are totally cute Endrea.

[Endrea] Nuzzles her child, giving him a loving lick- Thank you, I'm so very proud of them

[Steffan] Yeah, I wonder how Brogon's doing....

[Enderbro] Waves his arms - I bet they're HUUUGE now.

[Endrea] - I can travel to other Ends if you wish to see, not right now obviously, but if you ever want to

[Steffan] Oh no! Please! Jean would mop the floor with us! She forbade us from ever going near her again because we had her kid for a while. She's the one that beat the crap out of GK for months too.

[Endrea] - GG...  Was beaten up?

[Steffan] Yeah... the time before last that he tried to kill me... and bro... our NOTCH banished him to the End. Jean was terrible to him. That's why he hated me so much.

[Endrea] A growl is starting to form in her throat as she thinks about anyone harming anyone important in her life- Where is your seed?

[Steffan] I don't know? I'm not able to seedhop on my own. But the seeds called... ASSBUTTS

[Enderbro] Pffft!

[Endrea] - I see- She picks Oak up and puts him down next to his siblings- Please, keep an eye on my children...

[Ashe] - What's an assbutts?

[Enderbro] Two words for butts!

[Steffan] It's nothing...

[Ashe] Giggles-

[willow] -flops on the book- bok

[Endrea] Gives each of her children a nuzzle before walking out of the room-

[Ashe] - Willow!  I can't read if your on the book!

[willow] -gets off the book-

[oak] -comes curl around ashe as well to listen-

[Endrea] Strides outside and tears open a way through the void, searching for the End of the seed Steffan mentioned-

[Jean] Is playing with junior, [aka Brogon] who is now just as big as she is-

[Endrea] Enters the seed, searching for the other dragon-

[Jean] Is surveying her wandering Enders with a smug air-

[Junior] Is trying to playfully lick them as they run from him-

[Endrea] Releases a challenging roar-

[Jean] Snarls at the scent of another dragon- Show yourself intruder!

[Endrea] - I am here!

[Jean] Narrows her eyes and shoves her baby behind her - Why are you here? Who are you?

[Endrea] - My name is Endrea, and you have angered me

[Jean] I don't know you, I think you are mistaken.

[Endrea] - I am not, we have never met, but you have brought harm to someone very close to me- As she gets closer, the size difference between her and Jean becomes more obvious

[Jean] Is protecting her baby and bristles visibly- Begone or I'll call down the wrath of Notch on you!

[Endrea] - Do so and I shall call several brines more powerful than your own!

[Jean] .... there are more Herobrines?

[Endrea] - Many, more.  Of which YOU harmed one I'm rather fond of!

[Jean] Backs away in a crouch, she's keeping her baby sheltered behind her as best she can - I had no choice! I obey my god!

[Endrea] - What god!?  They are nothing more than annoying pricks!  I broke free of mine because he tried pulling similar shit!

[Jean] He created me. He would delete me and leave my baby defenseless if I defied him!

[Endrea] - Mine created me as well, and my brine has since protected me!  My NOTCH also made the mistake of making me in a sense unkillable!

[Jean] I was tasked to torment the brine as punishment for trying to kill his son Steffan and his friends. I did as I was coded to do.

[Endrea] - Do you know what GK actually is?

[Jean] No. He is a Herobrine. That's all I know.

[Endrea] - He is a dragon!  Forced to take the form of the player until either the player dies!  Or you are killed!

[Jean] But the player is gone. The boy and the girl alike. The seed is empty. And if they are gone, then I and my child are safe.

[Endrea] - You stupid little bitch, you'd rather your child grow up knowing only this instead of the rest of the world

[Jean] Better then not growing up at all.

[Endrea] Lunges at Jean-

[Jean] Scuttles backwards, snapping and hissing-

[Junior] Gives a mewl of alarm, he's big but obviously still a child mentally-

[Edrea] Glances at Junior- At least my children are educated and growing into adults

[Jean] He's special! Leave him alone!

[Endrea] Scoffs- And you think any of the baby dragons I've rescued are not? Eggs rescued from the brink of death because the player never took them?

[Jean] I did not know others even existed until you arrived!

[Endrea] - Oh they do, and are flourishing together as a massive flock

[Jean] perks slightly- For what purpose?

[Endrea] - For them to be able to live freely.  The multitude of babies there are being tended to by two more adults of our kind

[Jean] Has a sudden hopeful look- But if I run... I may be pursued....

[Endrea] - Not to there you wouldn't be, none can enter unless special permission is given.  Not even the NOTCH's can force their way in

[Jean] I... I cannot fly....

[Endrea] - That matters not, I know there are at least a few that cannot fly either, and I can create an opening directly to the seed

[Jean] You swear safe passage for us? You were ready to harm me moments ago.

[Endrea] - Oh, I still do not like you, but if it will anger your NOTCH, then I am willing to at least help with that

[Jean] Stands up - Fine. The guard dog will flee her master. I do this for my child. We should go quickly, in case he gets the notion to check on his toy.

[Endrea] Quickly creates an opening to the sub seed- Go right through here

[Jean] Hestiates and then rushes through with her baby-

[Endrea] Follows, closing the way behind her, she can already hear Thunder and Tsunami getting closer-

[Jean] Is grooming Junior nervously, she's never been out of the End before

-Thunder and Tsunami circle overhead, wary of Endrea because she is so much bigger, a small baby dragon stumbles forwards from the underbrush-

[Junior] Toddles over, his long tongue flopping loose like a panting dog-

-The baby squeaks and tries to initiate play-

[Junior] Prances in place like a happy horse and matches the smaller dragons enthusiasim-

[Jean] Is watching everythign with wary eyes.

[Endrea] - There are a few rules to this place, do not attack any humans, EVER.  There is a group of them who are recovering from trauma's not far from here.  And do not panic if brines visit occasionally, they are friendly

[Jean] Is in a bit of a ball, her eyes are slitted to nearly nothing now because she's never seen the sun- I will harm no one.

[Endrea] - Good, otherwise I will return with a fury and kill you

[Jean] Makes a very submissive posture - I understand....

[Endrea] Creates another opening to return to her End- Now then, I shall be returning to my own children

[Enderbro] You went out! Was it fun?

[Steffan] where did you go?

[Endrea] - Not exactly, and I went to your seed

[oak] MA!

[Endrea] - Hello Oak, oh and Steffan?  I would suggest avoiding the sub seed for at least a little while

[Steffan] I've never been there... I'm kind of afraid of all the NOTCHs. Mine's always been like a distant god and I'm okay with keeping them at arm's length.

[Endrea] - Very well, but you should know that your dragon and her child are now there too

[Steffan] very small voice- One of these days I need to learn to shut the fuck up... Gk is gonna kill me....

[noikracs]

Summary: Building a snowman with the Sunada Family

Groaning, Reiji sunk himself into the couch. “When will it snow?”

Tajima tapped his chin thoughtfully. “The news said it was supposed to be yesterday but I suppose it lied,” he muttered.

“Good,” a bitter Sugai grumbled, sipping his tea.

Cocking his head, Reiji asked, “Why are you such a grinch during Christmas? What’s your problem?”

Sugai huffed. “I don’t have a problem with Christmas. I have a problem with snow.”

“Ah. Your heat miser, huh?” Tajima asked, giving a playful smirk.

A nod from Sugai. “I suppose I am. And you and Reiji can be snow miser. Ah, we should watch that movie.”

Reiji smiled. “Old Christmas movies? I’m in,” he said.

“We should watch Rudolph again,” a happy Tajima said, his tan skin a bit flushed from the cold.

There was a pause before Reiji yawned. “Or maybe we could just cuddle by the fireplace with some hot cocoa. I’m not against that either.”

Sugai chuckled half-heartedly. “I never thought I’d hear you say the word ‘cuddle’,” Sugai teased.

“Whatever. You love them, especially when it’s by the fireplace.” Reiji shrugged.

Pumping a hand in the air, Tajima exclaimed, “Sugai, go make your cocoa right now! I’ll start the fire.”

Sugai sighed. “Fine. Just try not to burn the house down while I’m gone, okay?”

“Oh, please. That’s my cooking problems. I’m perfectly fine with fireplaces,” Tajima shot back.

Narrowing his eyes, Sugai said, “Keep an eye on him, Reiji,” before leaving.

Tajima turned to Reiji. “Just sit on the couch and let the master show you how it’s done,” he said boastfully.

“If you insist,” Reiji said with a yawn, plopping himself further on the couch.

It wasn’t long before Tajima actually did get the fireplace started and Sugai came back with hot chocolate not far after.

Reiji asked nonchalantly, “Did you put peppermint in mine?”

“Of course, love,” Sugai said lovingly, putting the mug on the table before fetching the other two for him and Tajima.

They sat in front of the fireplace together, Reiji in Sugai’s lap while Tajima leaned against Reiji’s shoulder.

Sugai smiled. “We should do this more often.”

“Yep!” Tajima exclaimed happily, being more energetic than the other two, who seemed to be focusing on the crackling of the fire rather than anything else.

Suddenly, Reiji got a ring on his phone before his eyes widened. “Look outside the window,” he commanded as Tajima already knew what was up, as he was sprinting over.

Tajima’s face grew into a smile. “It’s snowing!”

“Great,” Sugai grumbled before Reiji nearly jumped off his lap and was already throwing mittens and a scarf on.

Turning back, Reiji asked, “Are you guys coming?”

Sugai cringed. “I’d rather stay here where it’s nice and warm.”

“Coward!” Tajima screamed childishly, throwing on his jacket and bouncing up and down like a toddler.

Folding his arms, Sugai said with a scowl, “I just don’t want to get sick. Is that so bad?”

Reiji rolled his eyes. “It’ll be fun, dad. Please?” he begged as Tajima had the same look.

“It depends. Why do you want me out so bad? To bombard me with snowballs?” Sugai asked, raising a suspicious eyebrow.

Laughing, Tajima exclaimed, “No, we’re gonna make a snowman!”

Sugai squinted. “Really?”

“What? Is there something wrong with that?”

“No, no. Fine, I’ll make a single snowman with you.”

A wide smile was seen from both Tajima and Reiji as they watched Sugai grab his jacket and mittens.

Reiji gave an enthusiastic, “Let’s go!” before they were out the door.

“It’s too cold,” Sugai rattled.

A crooked smile was seen from Tajima. “Come on, baby! Stop complaining and let’s make a snowman!”

Sugai sighed. “You are a five year old in a grown man’s body.”

“No! I’m doing this for Reiji,” Tajima said confidently, giving a toothy grin.

Though Reiji scoffed, he didn’t say anything; both him and Sugai knew it was far from true.

Tajima started rolling a big piece of snow before waving his hand, cueing both Sugai and Reiji to help, so they did.

“I don’t get the fun in this,” Sugai huffed, before letting out a long shiver, his teeth clattering.

A odd look was received from Reiji. “Did you not put enough clothes on?”

Sugai sighed. “I believe so.”

“Enough talking, we got work to do, guys!” Tajima said, fisting the air before rolling a slightly smaller ball than the first, as Sugai and Reiji went to help on that one as well.

Letting out a exhale, Sugai grumbled childishly, “This is too much work.”

Reiji giggled. “You’re a pro-hero, and you’re whining over a bit of snow and making a snowman?”

“I simply do not enjoy the cold. Either do I want one,” Sugai nearly barked in response.

Trying to change the subject, Tajima said, “Let’s hurry up and roll up this last ball. The smallest one.”

Tajima, Sugai, and Reiji finished as they smiled at their handiwork; even Sugai.

“I’ll admit, it looks good. This is the first snowman I made,” Sugai said fondly.

Eyes widening dramatically, Reiji repeated, “You never made a snowman before?”

Sugai chuckled at the response. “I grew up in a hot area. There was never a day below sixty degrees.”

“That sounds sad,” Tajima frowned.

Still chuckling, Sugai said, “It’s not, trust me. I like the warmth. Living in the cold sounds sad to me.”

Reiji glanced at the snowman. “Are we gonna add anything?”

“Like what?” Sugai asked.

“Like a carrot nose or some button eyes. Some stick hands, too.”

Smiling again, Tajima cheered, “That sounds great! I call getting the carrot!” He dashed inside the house.

Reiji stretched his arms before saying, “I’ll get the stick hands. Can you manage the buttons?”

“That doesn’t sound too hard. I’ll be back,” Sugai said before jogging inside the house as well.

All three came back; Tajima with a long carrot; Sugai with two uneven colored buttons, one red, and one green; and Reiji with two surprisingly even sticks.

Sugai held the buttons in the palm of his hand. “I couldn’t find the matching colors. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s Christmas colors! It goes great along theme!” Tajima said happily.

A laugh was heard from Reiji. “You’re taking this way too seriously. Have fun with it,” he encouraged.

Sugai nervously laughed back. “I’m sorry. I just never done anything like this.”

“That’s why you should get used to it!” Tajima exclaimed, before sticking the carrot nose into the snowman’s lower center of the face.

Right after, Reiji stuck the stick hands and both looked at Sugai, ready to finish with the button eyes.

Sugai carefully put them there before smiling. “Did I do it right?”

“You did it perfectly,” Tajima said, wrapping his arms around Sugai and then Reiji, pulling them in for a group hug.

Yawning, Reiji murmured, “I’m tired. And cold,” he added.

Tajima kissed the crown of Reiji’s head. “I am too. Why don’t we go inside?”

“Um... actually, I am interested in a snowball battle,” Sugai said nervously.

Almost booming in laughter at the little mispronunciation, Tajima said, “It is actually called a snowball fight, babe.”

Sugai flushed. “Sorry,” he quickly apologized.

“Geez. And I thought I apologized too much,” Reiji said sarcastically.

Still smiling, Tajima said enthusiastically, “Let’s do it! Snowball fight!”

Reiji chuckled. “Fine, but after this I want cuddles by the fireplace.”

“Aww, that’s cute,” Sugai cooed.

Smiling back playfully, Reiji grabbed snow and mended it to a snowball. “Shut up and let’s fight. Who’s on who’s team? Or should we be solo since we don’t have an even amount of players?”

Tajima beamed. “I’ll let you show Sugai how it’s done while I come at you with all my might!”

“So I’m on dad-two’s team?” Reiji asked, just to clarify.

A small chuckle was heard from Sugai at the nickname as Tajima nodded.

Reiji gave a smug look. “Well then we better get going.”

[gethealthy18-blog]

Cocoa-Mint DIY Lip Scrub Recipe (And Self Care Tips for Your Busy Lifestyle)

New Post has been published on http://healingawerness.com/news/cocoa-mint-diy-lip-scrub-recipe-and-self-care-tips-for-your-busy-lifestyle/

Cocoa-Mint DIY Lip Scrub Recipe (And Self Care Tips for Your Busy Lifestyle)

My simple cocoa-mint DIY lip scrub recipe not only nourishes your lips in a deliciously minty way, it is also a wonderful way that we can harness our creativity for self care and nurture our emotional health and well-being in just five minutes.

In these modern times, we often take on multiple roles throughout our lives. Often these roles overlap at the same time, leaving us overwhelmed and overextended. By taking just a few minutes out of each day to practice self care, even with a simple homemade lip scrub, we are better equipped to handle stressors in our lives.

What is self care?

We hear a lot about self care. That is, taking the time out to do something for yourself that benefits your physical or emotional health in some way. However, it’s easy to forget that we need to practice self care on a regular basis. When we have too much on our plate, and not enough time to get everything done, taking care of ourselves falls to the wayside.

Self care shouldn’t feel like a chore. Instead, it should be a simple exercise to help ground you. By making the time to practice self care exercises on a regular basis, the hope is that they’ll, in turn, become healthy habits. So not only are you carving out a little extra time for yourself each day, you’re also taking actions that lead to better emotional health. After all, self care isn’t self indulgence. It’s an act of survival.

What are some easy ways to practice self care?

Here is a list of my favorite ways to take time out for myself. Working these self care ideas into your busy lifestyle can really make all the difference in your life. Therefore, I recommend starting with just one or two, then working more in as you can.

1. Drink an extra glass of water everyday.

Easy, right? Most of us don’t drink enough water. And if you’re chugging coffee in the mornings to get going, you actually need to drink double the amount of water to counteract the caffeine. The simple act of drinking more water not only helps with digestion, it also combats fatigue and can help prevent acne.

2. Get up and move!

When work gets overwhelming, take a mini break. Get out of that ever so uncomfortable office chair and take a spin! (Or spin in your office chair even!).

I’ve found that something as simple as standing up and doing a Cinderella like spin, your arm circling down so you can magically don a ball gown, will lift your mood and give you a little chuckle. Likewise, if you can get away with dancing to a single song, go for it! Sneaking in just a little exercise can help to reduce stress. It also leads to better sleep. Here’s a another awesome fun way to get some steps in every day.

3. Don’t skimp on sleep.

Our bodies need sleep to stay healthy and keep us on top of our game. I promise the world won’t go spiraling into the sun if you don’t finish every single thing on your to do list by the end of the day.

So if you’re exhausted, take a nap. Also be sure you’re getting an adequate amount of sleep every night. A good night’s rest helps to improve memory, spur creativity, sharpen attention and lower stress levels so you can, in turn, be more productive.  If you have trouble getting a good night’s rest, you’ll find some great tips for getting a restful night’s sleep here.

4. Crank the music on your car ride to and from work – and sing along!

Belting out to your favorite playlist when you’re alone in the car is fabulous for relieving built up stress and tension. I mean, there’s just something about being able to scream (sing) at the top of your lungs to help you get over a bad day.

5. Reward yourself at least once week for all of your hard work with a little treat.

Instead of saving the things you love for special occasions, make the occasion special to brighten your mood. Spoil yourself  with your favorite Korean face mask. Or buy yourself that pretty party worthy cake pop. Pick up a bouquet of your favorite flowers. Do something you wish your ex would have done for you, but never did.

6. Clean and organize your living space.

If you’re a type A personality like I am, cleaning off your desk or organizing your pantry will help to clear your head, reduce stress and ground you. I find that this helps me when I’m having trouble starting on a new project or task for work.

7. Unwind with a relaxing bubble bath at the end of a hard day.

Or buy a fun new nail polish color and give yourself a mani-pedi! This extra bit of attention is a great way to meditate without realizing you’re meditating. Especially if you’re one of those people that has trouble sitting still for more than five minutes (I’m raising my hand on this one too!). These homemade lavender and chamomile bath bombs are the perfect way to relax in the bath.

8. Learn to say no.

Your time is already stretched. Adding on another task as a favor to someone else will only make things harder and more stressful. It’s impossible to take care of your own needs, if you’re drowning in obligations to other people.

Your friends and family will understand and you’ll feel empowered by taking back a little piece of time for yourself that you would ordinarily give away.

9. Eat healthier.

Start replacing processed foods with raw foods rich in nutrients. Processed foods contain preservatives that can be unhealthy when they start to consume your eating habits. Not only do they offer fewer nutrients your body needs, they can also contribute to stress and anxiety.

Learn more about how to prevent binge eating.

10. Take a break from social media.

Social media has become a large part of daily life. Unfortunately, the content is not always desirable. Politics and negative news stories can easily bring you down, and the comments can be even worse than the posts themselves. In addition, reading about how happy your friends and family are can often lead to feeling that our own lives are inadequate.

Rather than scrolling through facebook or instagram, take that ten minutes to walk around the block instead. Studies have shown that a simple walk outdoors can boost serotonin levels in the brain more than antidepressant medications.

11. Use your chores as a way to interact with people outside of your day to day life.

Instead of a chaotic trip to the grocery store after work, visit the farmer’s market on your day off instead. Not only will the walk reduce stress, but it will give you the chance to interact on a personal level with the people you’re buying from. It’s also an easy way to shop healthier and support people in your community.

12. Try aromatherapy.

Certain essential oils, such as lavender, can help to promote calm and relaxation. While other essential oils, such as lemongrass, can help relieve stress. I personally LOVE peppermint essential oil in my diy lip scrub recipe and many other diy beauty products.

Elizabeth’s Note: Ready to learn more about essential oils? Start my FREE SUPER SIMPLE 9-STEP EMAIL COURSE to start learning – without all the stress! I focus on the absolute essentials (pun totally intended, haha) and keep everything simple. That way you can learn what you need without information overload! Start my free course now.

13. Create something with your hands.

There’s a certain satisfaction and feeling of accomplishment when you make something with your hands. Creativity not only makes us happy, it can also help us overcome trauma and manage negative emotions.

DIY Lip Scrub: A simple 5-minute self care project

If you’d like to create something, but aren’t sure where to start, why not give my natural DIY lip scrub recipe a try? Making something simple, such a lip scrub, is an easy self care exercise. And it only takes five minutes of your time.

Not only will it give you a feeling of accomplishment, the end product also allows you to take that one extra minute a day to focus just on you. Or more specifically, your lips!

I love this cocoa-mint DIY lip scrub recipe for a number of reasons. Not only is it easy to make, it’s also a great project that you create with your friends or family without having to make a huge time commitment. Of course, there’s also the added benefit of having smooth, healthy looking lips! Especially if you are prone to chapped lips in the winter, or if you live in a particularly dry climate.

By the way, this Cocoa-Mint DIY lip scrub would pair perfectly with chocolate mint body butter recipe, peppermint foaming sugar scrub recipe, chocolate mint foaming salt scrub, and chocolate mint lip balm recipe as a gift or as a complete self care package! You could also add these Foot Scrub Cubes with Menthol Crystals.

Cocoa-Mint DIY Lip Scrub Recipe

INGREDIENTS:

.75 oz. unrefined cocoa butter .75 oz. virgin coconut oil or fractionated coconut oil .25 oz. emulsifying wax 4.5 oz. granulated sugar 1 mL (or about 20 drops) peppermint essential oil

DIRECTIONS:

You will need a digital kitchen scale to craft my cocoa-mint DIY lip scrub recipe.

STEP #1:

Using a digital scale, weigh out the cocoa butter, coconut oil and emulsifying wax. (If you live in a hot climate, use virgin coconut oil. Otherwise, for cooler climates, use fractionated coconut oil.)

STEP #2:

Combine these ingredients in a double boiler and heat the ingredients on the stovetop over medium-low heat until melted.

STEP #3:

Remove the melted butter, oil and wax from heat. Then add the peppermint essential oil to the mixture and stir to combine.

STEP #4:

Using a separate container weigh out the sugar. Then pour the sugar into the liquid ingredients. Then use a fork to mix the lip scrub until all of the ingredients are evenly distributed.

STEP #5: 

Spoon your cocoa-mint natural lip scrub into a container or containers of your choice. Allow to cool, then screw on the lid(s) to your container(s).

To use your natural DIY lip scrub, simply massage a small amount of the scrub onto damp lips in the shower as part of your daily self care routine.

How do you practice self care each day? Do you make DIY lip scrub to nourish your lips? I’d love for you to share your experiences in the comments!

More DIY Beauty Recipes You Will Love:

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Source: https://livingthenourishedlife.com/cocoa-mint-diy-lip-scrub-recipe-and-self-care-tips/

[birdseyetea]

January Newsletter

Happy New Year!

The stillness of January can be incredibly calming if you let yourself drift into the depths of it. I am pretty slow mentally and physically this time of year, I spend almost all of my time indoors writing, making tea, planning the farm, doing research, mending, etc. This month: treat yourself with love and compassion, take baths and read just for fun. The deep winter is typically the time when we emotionally recharge. The holidays are super hectic and full of excitement, so we do not get the down time we need to fully recharge for the year ahead. Let your body rest as much as it needs and try to create a sacred space in your home where you feel joy, safety, and warmth. I have a little meditation nook in my home that I retreat to a few times a day to help me open my awareness as wide as possible. It is a quiet spot where I learn to cultivate equanimity.

January is a great month to start VISIONING your growing season. Defining what you intend to grow is a big part of the visioning phase: whether it be a garden, an art project, learning a new skill, or embarking on a new adventure. The days are getting a little longer each day, and you will start to notice your energy naturally increase as the days lengthen. For some of us, including myself, visioning involves listening to my intuition, planning gardens for spring, making a seed order, organizing the seeds I collected from last years growing season, mapping out building projects, and creating a beautiful vision for your hopes and dreams in 2017. I rarely start new projects in January, I mostly makes lists, jot down ideas, and organize my life so when the weather warms up and I am rearing to go outside I will have a very clear idea and purpose for what to do and how to do it.

___

2016 was a rough and tumble year for so many people I know and for the country in general. It felt like the universe was in the mood to thrash and storm us awake...to shake and rattle loose the cobwebs, hangups, and parts of our lives that were no longer serving us. It is easy to become complacent and tolerant of situations in our lives that don’t really fit us or feel right, and we can quickly become too comfortable to change things. So big dramas show up in our lives that force us to shift, and hopefully we choose the path that gets us into formation to be the best versions of ourselves we can be.

We each handle moments of crisis differently, so how we individually respond to a world in flux defines where we emotionally find ourselves right now. I think part of what we saw with the presidential election and other congressional races that shifted our government dramatically to the right and into the hands of unpredictable, extremely wealthy, untrustworthy people is that we have so few cultural institutions that teach us how to work constructively with things like fear, anger, uncertainty, trauma, stress, and oppression. Learning new skills and ways of cooperative living that enable everyone to become more free and self aware enough to be responsible with their actions is a huge undertaking that I think we should strive for this year.

I think of the emotions of anger and aggression as fire qualities within us. You actually feel the heat rise when anger presents itself. The hot flash is your central nervous system flooding your body with adrenalin. Anger and aggression are universal characteristics of being human and it actually takes a long time for your body to recover from a spike in adrenalin, and in the recovery phase your body has a lower threshold, making you highly susceptible to another adrenalin fueled episode.  

Ancestral wisdom usually promotes a balance of qualities: masculine/feminine, fire/earth, water/air, etc. If we lived in a holistic culture we would probably learn to cultivate feminine qualities in equal measure to masculine qualities. We would learn to use compassion and generosity more than aggression. And the collective would be emphasized over the importance of the individual. Our ancestors lived most of their lives in a state of calm relaxation, rather than heightened stress. Our bodies are designed to be calm all the time except when we are experiencing a real threat. But we have it all backwards nowadays, we live in ways in which stress rules our lives, we take unnecessary risks and live far less in the familiar sanctuary of multigenerational community than ever before. It is amazing that we live near so many people, yet feel loneliness and depression as frequently as we feel love and support. Why do you think that is? How can you make small shifts in your life to include more connection and sharing?

You can continue reading my thoughts and experience on the element of fire and heat after the tea descriptions!

Morning Wellness Tea: English Breakfast Tea, Ginger, Cinnamon, Chrysanthemum, Orange Zest, Vanilla Bean, and Orange Essential Oil

Morning Wellness Tea is a really nice aromatic black tea blend that warms and wakes the body. English Breakfast tea is often a blend of black teas that has a dark robust taste. The flavor is strong enough to be balanced in British culture by adding milk and sugar (I recommend local honey instead of processed sugar).

This blend will help you wake up in the morning but also gives your body some basic immune support. The aromatic herbs: ginger, cinnamon, and orange zest are warming and anti-microbial. So they will help the body fight fungal and bacterial infections that are associated with colds. They are also drying, which will help dry up a runny nose or a particularly wet cough. Ginger supports your digestive fire, improve the secretion of digestive enzymes, and prevents nausea. Ginger, as well as, cinnamon and orange zest improve peripheral circulation and warm up the body, thus reducing feelings of cold and joint pain. Cinnamon is anti-viral and immune boosting, aiding the body in its fight against the flu virus. Chrysanthemum is a common herb in Traditional Chinese Medicine formulas for colds and flus. It has a strong affinity for upper respiratory system and liver. It has been shown in studies to reduce fever, improve cardiovascular flow, and lower blood pressure.

This is a pretty mild delicious caffeinated tea that gives you a little extra immune support during cold dark January mornings. The strong citrus and vanilla aromatics help elevate your mood and brighten your mind.

CCF plus F Tea: Cumin, Coriander, Fennel, and Fenugreek

CCF tea is a really famous blend of spices used in Ayurvedic Medicine. Ayurveda is the ancient sophisticated medical system in India. CCF plus Fennugreek Tea strengthens your digestive fire and metabolism. It helps restores digestive and circulatory vitality during the winter sluggishness we experience in January.

In Ayurveda, CCF Tea balances Pitta, one of three archetypal doshas or body types. Pitta-type digestive imbalances include over eating, heartburn, nausea, indigestion, bad breath, and loose stool. This tea helps restore balance to the digestive system of overly stressed people. It is a soothing formula that reduces agitation and inflammation.

Cocoa-Mint Tea: Nettles, Peppermint, Roasted Cacao Skins, Honeybush Tea, Jasmine, and Vanilla Bean

Cocoa-Mint Tea is a nourishing herbal tea blend. This tea helps you feel good! You know those first few moments when you dig into a decadent chocolate dessert, you feel amazing, right? This tea is designed to enrapture your senses in the same way but this tea is profoundly more healing to your tissues than dessert and the good feelings last a lot longer. This blend is not really medicinal, just nourishing and delicious.

Nettles are rich is iron, chlorophyll, and protein which accounts for the fullness one feels when they drink nettle tea or eat fresh nettles in the springtime. Nettles help build tissues and provide a huge array of beneficial micronutrients for cell health and vigor. Honeybush Tea comes from South Africa where it is commonly sipped all day. Honeybush is rich is anti-oxidants and minerals. The naturally sweet taste pairs really nicely with the other herbs in this blend. Peppermint is slightly calming and delivers a gorgeous aromatic uplift that dances gracefully with the jasmine and vanilla bean. Cacao skins are the chaff that is winnowed from the beans during the roasting process. The chaff has rich roasted fragrance and flavor. Roasted flavored foods and drinks provide the body with a deep sense of comfort and coziness.      

____

We have an overabundance of archetypal masculine energy in our culture, patriarchy (with its patterns of domination through physical strength, competition, and violence) is a very immature childish approach to culture building. It strips most of us of our confidence and humanity over time and undermines the importance of open hearted vulnerability and caregiving. Our culture idolizes hot headed emotionally aggressive tendencies over gracefulness and temperance. Because we live in an aggressive culture, we have been patterned toward behaviors that tend to promote burning down the house rather than practicing the divine act of daily nurturing. And those of us who sincerely believe in the wisdom and power of cooperation and nurturing are extremely undervalued. As a society we have built a culture that prefers impulsive explosive energies over thoughtfulness and generosity.

Let us be the generous light that carries us through this darkness!

I have been working with the element of fire and heat a lot this past year, at one point I thought I was going to burn myself out from the inside, my nervous system was so inflamed and reactive. An imbalance of heat in the body  presents itself as things like panic, insomnia, irritability, self criticism, and indigestion. I knew my life was stacked with really stressful projects and emotional drama, compounded with a concussion from a car accident, so I talked myself into reorganizing aspects of my life and giving as much attention as I could to my own inner landscape. I slowed down and learned how to sit with the discomfort of an overabundance of the element of fire in my body. I let my feelings fully express themselves. Then I investigate them. And now I have started to see what was going on underneath the pulsing heat I felt each day. What function does emotional heat play in my body when it surfaces throughout the day?

Passion, creativity, and curiosity for life are qualities of balanced heat, while enragement, panic, and obsession indicate too much heat. As I deepened my focus on the heat and volatility I was feeling, I began to retrace the path my life has taken. With the help of a therapist I retraced physical and sexual abuse I experienced as a young kid by gymnastics coaches, the social rejections associated with being queer, the sexism and competition that never seems to end...I slowly began to recognize the long term effects of violence against my own soul and how this violence had silenced so much of my innate feminine wisdom, not to mention my confident speaking voice. I felt hollowed out by the long-term destructive power of dominance.

I was also really critical of myself for learned behaviors that gave me a sense of entitlement. We are so impressionable and sensitive, and it is incredibly important to learn to fully rebel against aspects of ourselves or our culture that seek to harm and endanger our relationships with our compassionate heart and place. It has been incredibly cathartic to begin to process the traumas I have experienced. I wish I had learned how to process deep trauma earlier in my life. I was diagnosed with PTSD about six months ago (which I have been living with for more than 20 years, now I just have a name for it) and it has been hard to come to terms with because the emotional responses I experience and have been trying to keep hidden from people have profoundly complicated many of my closest relationships. Because I never talked much about what was going on in my body to anyone, out of fear and shame, I let festering emotional pain and anxiety pile up and burn me out from the inside. And the patterns of stress that are associated with PTSD are probably going to be with me my whole life, but I am so incredibly grateful to have more strength and language to talk about it. And I am learning how to better adapt my holistic tool set such as meditation, nourishing diet, daily self care habits, and focusing on projects and friendships that build a deep cool sense of safety and support to help balance the experience of the cascade of stress hormones that flush through me when I get triggered.

As I go through this self discovery and healing process, I have began, for better or worse, to talk about aspects of myself that are hard to shine light on. So, thank you for letting me be vulnerable. I hope that my journey can give comfort and a voice to other folks who may not have a public outlet.

Before my meltdown, I was having a hard time telling the difference between constructive feedback and harsh criticism. I completely doubted my abilities and purpose as a farmer, herbalist, ecologist, partner, and friend. For most of my adult life I have put myself in situations where I am confronted with regular belittling and passive-aggression by affluent privileged men...and it has always been almost intolerable...At the end of the day those dudes will undoubtedly feel physically and intellectually superior and justified in their anger no matter how carefully and kindly I tread around them.

Misogyny is complicated, and some of us have life experiences and personalities that trigger something deep and unsettling in insecure men. I assume most women have been subject to a lot of moments when men decide to body check, physically attack, or shame them in private or in front of their peers...I know I have. But you know what? Maybe these experiences can be what redefine our commitment to collectively rebelling against immature violent attempts at controlling other people. Humans should not have to struggle to survive their lives, humanity needs to completely distance itself from patterns of domination and let us create cultures that celebrate and honor the wisdom in cooperation and pure kindness...where our creativity and work is guided by an ethics of respect and solidarity as humans and members of the Earth’s diversity.

When I think about the path my life has taken, I must have always had an instinct for healing and being support for those in need. I have never stoped working my butt off to build a life that serves the more tender feminine elements of our world. The cruelty I see and experience in our culture that is associated with masculine dominance and exploitation, has partly deepened my connection to the environment, has inspired me to cultivate love and connection with my friends, and I have become very good at creating gardens, teas, and rituals that honor and celebrate the vulnerabilities in each of us. I have learned to trust the women around me and I’m learning to trust myself so that I can build better relationships to my place and talk with the men in my community about how they too can honor the feminine.    

After a lot of meditation, I began to understand that the fire that was pulsing through my body was not a targeted aggression toward others, it was mostly an agonizing hot stinky deep shame, and a desperate attempt for my body to protect my vulnerability from further insult. So many female bodied people feel shame not because we do anything wrong, but because we have deeply listened to the men throughout our lives reinforce how bad we are at being what they think they deserve. We naturally feel ashamed when we consistently do not fit the expectations that have been set for us by others.

It is so important that we actively work with each other to practice honest self reflection and equanimity in our own personal lives. I learned through this process over the last year that to allow ourselves to grow beyond adolescent reactions, in the hopes of becoming wise, it takes a deep constant commitment to rebelling against our longstanding culture of exploitation, prejudice, and oppression. We must learn to respect the earth, other people, and honor a sense of the sacred in public service and our private lives. We must choose to partner with people that make us feel alive and free.

Healthy communities start with healthy relationships to place. Simply taking good care of your friends and family, and taking steps to make your own neighborhood beautiful, safe, and more welcoming to outsiders is a good place to start. Living in a culture where kindness, social justice, and basic human rights are honored starts by recognizing yourself in others. We all arrive in this world naked and vulnerable, other people nurtured you as best they could throughout your life. Now it is time to give back and become a deeply nurturing person yourself, to act in fierce defense and support for the common good and our precious resources. There are so many ways each of us can use our creativity and resources to participate in the beautiful dance of give and take within our communities. Also stepping outside your comfort zone to engage and strengthen ties to organizations and efforts to empower the most vulnerable among us actively reinforces the power of feminine generosity. I really think we all need a whole lot more doses of femininity in our daily lives!