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kerie-prince · 3 years

Text

daisy cafe

Harry Potter x Muggle!reader

not a request

warnings: mentions of death, ptsd?? (in the form of nightmares)

summary: Harry starts his healing journey after the Battle, and a rainy night after a counseling session brought him into your café

a/n: hope y'all like this random imagine i wrote <3 i was meant to post it last night but i got into a heated debate about ww84 and i don't queue posts so here's this. no lie, i had a hard time writing this lol it's a whole 4k long imagine (whoops) also, when i say 'football' in this fic, i mean soccer lol

(gif cred)

The Battle of Hogwarts.

There was a lot to say about that day. So many perspectives and interpretations from different people. And today, Harry would talk to his counselor about his. At first, he opposed the idea of having a counselor but Hermione insisted that he talks to a professional. Well, insisted probably isn't the word. If anything, Hermione probably forced him into it and made the appointment herself.

So here he sat in the waiting room, sitting awkwardly in an uncomfortable chair. Even the chairs in the Hogwarts classrooms were more comfortable than these. The room was small and had tacky sunflower wallpaper. Harry sat by himself and internally cursed his best friends for just leaving him there and drove off. ‘Call me when it's over!’ Hermione had yelled out through the window.

“Mr. Harry Potter?” a young man called out for him. Harry followed him into the counselors office, noticing that the room was much nicer than the waiting room and the chairs looked more comfortable. And if he was going to be stuck here for over an hour, he better not walk out with back pain.

Harry sat patiently as he waited for the counselor to come. He noticed the golden name plate on the desk with a name written in black letters. Jon Osborne. Harry’s leg was unconsciously bouncing in rhythm with the ticking of the clock on the wall. He didn't think he'd be nervous about it as he was now. He immediately stood up as he heard Dr. Osborne come in. “Mr. Potter, it’s an honor to meet you,” he stretched his hand out to greet Harry.

“Pleasure’s all mine, sir,” Harry said with a shy smile. Once they sat down, Dr. Osborne went straight into it, “So tell me, Mr. Potter, how have you been?”

“Great. I've been busy planning a wedding,” Harry stated like it was a normal conversation. “Congratulations. Yours, I'm assuming?”

“No, it's for my two best mates,” Harry corrected. “They're getting married pretty soon and I offered to help pay for it. Not really doing much of decoration planning, Hermione thinks Ron and I would pick something stupid,” Harry wasn't looking at Dr. Osborne directly, but he had a faint smile as he explained the details. “And are you with anyone?” Dr. Osborne asked.

It made the young wizard think. Ron and Hermione were getting married, Neville and Luna were having fun on small dates, and Ginny was still going back and forth with Dean. “No, I'm not with anyone at the moment.”

His counselor wrote something down quickly before going forward with the next question. “Do you think about it often?” Harry knew what he was insinuating. His breath hitched a bit. Harry certainly didn’t expect to be asked this question so early on. From Hermione’s explanation, he wasn’t expecting to talk about the Battle for maybe another couple sessions. And that was if Harry even wanted to do other sessions.

“You don’t think you need to be here,” it was like he read Harry’s mind. And it was true. “Well, I do have a pretty solid support group. We all went through it together.” Harry rubbed the palms of his unusually sweaty hands against his pants.

“So because you and your friends went through it together, you're okay? Nothing about it bothers you?” had Dr. Osborne’s tone altered just a bit, he would've sounded condescending. He sounded a bit empathetic. It made Harry actually want to talk. “Do you and your friends actually talk about it?”

The answer was clear to Harry. No. If he was being honest, he didn't think there's even a reason to talk about it. The worst had been over, and now that him and his friends and family – and by family, he meant the Weasleys – were finally in peace, Harry figured that he wouldn't have to think about it again.

But the nightmares were relentless. It wasn't like the ones he had when Voldemort was in his mind and showing him things he wanted to show Harry. These nightmares were worse. They consisted of the worst that could have happened that day. Watching his friends die, his professors, his peers. The worst of the worst. And there's one that he hated the most. Being in Voldemort's point of view and killing Harry successfully and for good this time.

Hermione tried to get Harry to talk, but he's too stubborn. So she figured the only way to get him to talk was to schedule this appointment. He was promised confidentiality and listening ears with no judgement. Harry accepted because he knew that even though Hermione would always be there, she would probably say something like ‘You're not alone in this, we're all here for you and with you.’ Ron would listen to the whole thing and suggest getting a drink and food. Harry loves his friends, but it's hard to talk about such things when they've gone through it too. He wondered if they felt the same.

—

Harry was leaving his fourth session with Dr. Osborne. Unexpectedly, he enjoyed these meetings. It felt good to talk to someone outside of his friends. Hermione noticed how he was returning to his old self, joking around and enjoying playing quidditch at the Burrow.

Harry decided on taking a small walk around the Muggle London street before calling Hermione and Ron to pick him up. After ten minutes, though, sprinkles of rain were falling down. And sprinkles turned into hard falls. Harry covered his head with his hands and looked around for someplace to run in. Next to him was a dental office, but to his luck the door was locked. He kept looking and looking for some place to stay inside until finally, he saw a building across the street with a lit up ‘Open’ sign.

Harry looked both sides of the street before running across. He was getting soaked by the second and when he ran inside, his jacket was dripping onto the mat. The place was warm and smelled lovely. Harry took his glasses off and wiped it with the driest part of his shirt. The cafe looked as warm as it felt. There weren’t any guests inside and he didn't find anyone working there. Harry saw the bell on the bread display and pressed on it a few times. After a couple of minutes, a girl came to the front. “Sorry for taking so long, how can I help– oh are you alright?” You saw the puddles of water that were splattered all around the floor. But your worry was with the stranger that was most likely freezing. “D-do you happen to have a phone around?” Harry asked you. He was shaking where he stood and all he wanted was to go home and get into some warm clothes. You nodded your head and went in the back to get the phone. Harry wanted to sit down, but he didn't want to make more of a mess than he’s already done. You came back quickly with a phone and a few rags so he could dry himself.

Harry dialed Hermione’s number and waited for her to answer. She didn't answer the first or second time which made Harry frustrated. They better not be in the middle of it right now. Finally, she answered on his third call. “Hello?”

“Hermione, what the bloody hell have you been doing?” Harry sassed. When he looked up, he saw how you stood awkwardly to the side, surprised that in contrast to his sweet demeanor, he sounded like the opposite. But that was just your assumption.

“Harry? Is that you? Why are you calling from this number?” In the background, he could hear Teddy joyful coos. “I was just giving Teddy a bath, I couldn't hear the phone.”

“Oh. Well, it’s raining really hard, can you come pick me up?” Harry felt your eyes on him still and he smiled awkwardly.

“Of course, are you still in the office?”

“No, I’m– hold on” he stopped mid-sentence and lowered the phone down, “where am I?” It took you a couple seconds to process that he was talking to you now, “Oh, uh, Daisy Cafe.”

“Daisy Cafe,” Harry repeated back to Hermione. “Alright, I’ll be right there.” And she hung up. Harry handed the phone back to you, “Thanks.”

Your hand was warm against his, a warmth he wished he had instead of the cold that enveloped his body. Harry’s legs were getting tired from standing so long and you noticed the shift in his position. “Please, take a seat,” you had gestured to a table. Harry insisted that he didn't want to ruin the chairs, but you didn't mind.

You checked the time on your wristwatch and ran to the back leaving Harry alone. He wondered what you were doing until he saw you come back slowly dragging a large heating machine. Harry stood from his seat and rushed to help you, “Where did you want this?”

“I was going to put this in front of the table so you can warm up. Don’t want you to get sick,” you spoke softly. You felt yourself warm up on your cheeks, somehow shy in this moment. On a daily basis, you talk to loads of strangers and some of them were quite attractive. But something about this stranger felt different.

Harry blinked with an indescribable look in his eyes as he stuttered a ‘thank you’. You turned on the large heater after Harry sat back down and slightly shifted his chair so he could be in range of the heaters’ direction.

You grabbed your keys from your back pants pocket to lock the door and turned the ‘Open’ sign off. “Would you like some coffee?” you offered him. Harry nodded and searched his pockets for his wallet before you stopped him, “Don't worry! It's on the house.”

There was a pot of coffee that was still hot on the warmer and you grabbed a tray, filling it with a mug, creamer, sugar, and a small plate of assorted biscuits in case he was hungry as well. You walked to his table and sat them down. He was in awe of all the things you brought out for him and felt grateful that you would do this for a stranger. “Thank you,” he nodded his head at you with a genuine smile.

“It’s no trouble,” you smiled back. You sat across from him with a mug of your own and sipped on the hot beverage you made. Harry took a sip of the coffee he finished preparing and nearly sighed at the feeling of it warming him up inside. Mixed with the heat that was coming from the heater, he felt brilliant as he usually says.

“Do you live around here?” You started small chat to get out of the awkward silence.

“No, I live just outside Ottery St. Catchpole.” Harry stated. He noticed the confused look on your face, you had probably had no idea where that was. “It’s kind of in the middle of nowhere.”

You nodded in response. Harry then asked if you lived around. After a while, you had gotten to know each other pretty well. He learned about your two cats that are always fighting, you learned about his friends always pulling pranks on each other in the house. As Harry waited for Hermione to pick him up, he was enjoying talking and laughing with you. You two were having such a good time getting to know each other in what felt like thirty minutes, but was actually an hour.

Once Hermione was in front of the cafe and beeped the horn of the car, Harry felt a bit disappointed to leave. This was probably the first conversation he had with someone who he didn't already live with or paid to listen. And it was a bonus that he found you quite attractive. “That’s for me. Thank you… for letting me stay.”

“Oh it’s no trouble. Safe travels on your way home! I hope you don’t get sick,” you waved off as you opened the door for him. Harry ran through the hard rain to get into his friend's car, but once he opened the door to the front seat, he turned back to you. “I never got your name!” Harry yelled out.

“Y/N! What’s yours?” You voiced with the same energy.

“Harry!” You smiled and waved one last time before closing the door and got yourself ready to go home. Harry fastened his seatbelt and held a small smile nearly the entire ride home. Hermione cleared her throat to get her friends’ attention. “How was the session today?”

Harry nodded ‘yes’ in an attempt to not have to talk. Not because he was gloomy, but distracted. He then processed what she said and replied back to the bushy haired woman, “Oh, i-it went fine. Good, great.” Harry was stuttering over his words. It was something that Hermione instantly noticed what was going on. The last time he was like this was when he first met Cho in fourth year. It was nice, she thought, that Harry was not only getting back to normal, but was also focused on something - or rather someone - other than his nightmares.

—

Harry goes to your cafe now after every session with Dr. Osborne. He finally went for his drivers license so he didn't have to depend on Hermione anymore. Ron and Hermione apparate to work anyway, so it granted him more access to the car.

Every Monday and Thursday, you would wait for him to walk through your doors. You would set aside a small box of warm biscuits for him that he seemed to enjoy and remembered how he took his coffee. After a couple of weeks, the people you worked with would give you a smirk and tease you with ‘He’s here~’. One of them, Jo, would constantly ask you if Harry has asked you out yet. And every time, you'd say ‘No.’ only for him to reply back ‘Well, why don’t you ask him out?’

You’ve definitely thought about it, but you didn't know how to ask him. There would be times that you thought Harry would do it before he left, but he’d just be a stuttering mess and leave. So, tonight before he leaves, you planned to just be straight with him and ask him to dinner.

Harry came later than usual today. After he stepped out of the counselors’ office, he checked his hair in the mirror he saw in the hallways. Tonight, he was also planning on asking you out. He likes you and he was pretty sure you liked him too. Once he stepped outside, he saw a flower cart in front of a local bank. Harry debated whether or not to buy you some, but opted out. What if she says no? What do I do with them at that point?

After an hour of having a mental pep talk, he entered Daisy Cafe. He didn't see you behind the bread display like he always had. Jo had recognized him immediately and watched as Harry looked around the small cafe for you. “She’s in the back, would you like for me to get her?”

“I-I can wait. She’s probably busy,” Harry stuttered. He didn't know whether it was a good thing or bad thing that your co-worker instantly knew what he was there for. Is it really obvious? Harry thought. He saw as Jo walked to the back anyway, probably announcing his presence to you. As it turned out, you were in the back checking yourself out in the small mirror that was hung on the inside of your locker. You ran out as soon as Jo said "He’s here" and dusted the flour off onto your apron.

“Hi, Harry,” you greeted.

“Hi,” Harry greeted back. “How are you?”

“I’m doing good, just cleaning up. Did you have a good day?” you asked. Harry nodded his head. He was about to order before you stopped him, “Your usual today?” He gave a sheepish smile and scratched the back of his head, “I come in that often, don't I?” You chuckled and began making his coffee. “It’s alright, I enjoy your company.” The both of you blushed, more so you after the sudden confession.

You couldn't see him, but Jo was listening to your conversation and wanted to laugh. You looked at Harry for any signs of possible rejection and just as quickly looked away to finish his order. Jo came out from the back with his bag and keys in his hand, “I’ve counted the safe for you. Have a good night, I’ll head out.” You nodded your head and thanked god for the interruption, “Thanks hun, see you tomorrow.” He winked at Harry once you looked away as to say ‘Good luck’ and walked out.

Harry became nervous and thought about just grabbing his coffee and going home. He hadn't dated anyone in a long time and didn't know where to even start. Merlin, he didn't even know what to do in a relationship. And especially with a muggle. Harry nearly forgot what it was like to be around muggles after the Dursley's left their home on Privet Drive and Harry moved in the Weasley’s in the Burrow. He certainly couldn't bring you there anytime soon. Especially when Arthur would ask you loads of questions. Wait, I’m getting ahead of myself.

Neither of you knew how to get a conversation going. You took your time stirring his coffee and grabbing the small box of biscuits before turning back to him. You made yourself tea instead, having drank too much coffee throughout the day to calm your nerves. He took the styrofoam cup and box from your hands and purposely brushed his fingers against yours but made it seem like an accident. Your neck stiffened at the sudden physical contact and pulled your hands back. He felt electric and if he let you, you'd grab his hands and keep them intertwined with yours.

It’s now or never you thought. “Do you want to go to dinner sometime–”

“Would you like to go out with me–” you and Harry spoke at the same time. You hadn't processed what he said so you questioned, “Huh? What was that?” Harry thought he heard you correctly, but he asked you again, “Would you like to go out with me? For dinner, maybe?”

YES, YES, YES you chanted in your head. Your heart was warm and you felt a butterfly flutter about inside you. On the outside, you were cool and collected. But your smile could have spoken for you. “Yes, I’d love that.”

—

Hermione helped Harry with looking for nice places in muggle London. George offered his best suit to the raven-haired boy, but Harry declined because he was significantly smaller in stature than the tall ginger, and also because he feared that George would have hexed the suit to either squirt out water, or have random objects falling out the sleeves.

George, Ginny and Ron would tease Harry about finally having a girlfriend, only to get scolded by both Hermione and Molly to stop. “Harry is a perfectly handsome young boy, he should be dating as much as he can,” Molly would defend.

“Ah, but mum, Harry isn't a boy anymore,” George joked. Molly hit her sons’ head with a cleaning rag and returned to what she was doing. Harry had picked a small restaurant that Hermione recommended that was inexpensive but not shabby. He never really liked expensive places or things even though he can absolutely afford them. She suggested that she helped him pick out something to wear, but he stopped her right there. “I can dress myself, thanks,” Harry sassed.

“The one you should be helping is my hopeless brother,” Ginny joked about Ron. He didn't find it all funny as Ron had a sour look on his face and whispered under his breath, “Bloody menace.”

“What did you say?” Ginny stood straight up from the couch and chased Ron throughout the house. She may be the youngest in the house, but it didn't make her any less scary when mad. George laughed at the sight of his siblings fighting while Molly yelled at them to be careful.

Harry finally put everything together – but if he was honest, he was putting together whatever Hermione said – and went to his room. There was still a couple days until the date, but he was nervous. He’s never really gone on a date. There was the night with Patil at the Yule Ball, but that didn't end well. There were a couple hang outs with Cho in the library, but never an actual date. So he hoped that this would turn out well.

—

Harry's breath was taken away when he saw you. You looked absolutely beautiful in the sundress you wore. Looking ethereal, you hadn't noticed Harry across the street parking the car. For a split second, he almost rear ended the car in front of him.

He walked towards slowly after taking a deep breath and held a single daisy in one hand. Hermione said roses were ideal, but he figured he should come up with at least one thing on his own. Your e/c eyes met his green ones and your heart did somersaults in your chest. Once he stood in front of you, you both said ‘Hi’ at the same time. Harry handed you the daisy and you were flattered by the gesture. It was a beautiful flower and you couldn't wait to put it in a small vase and display it at the cafe.

“Shall we go inside?” Harry had one of his hands pointed towards the door of the restaurant. You nodded and walked into the place with Harry holding the door open for you and another elderly couple behind him. He’s so sweet you thought.

The night was perfect; Harry had felt comfortable in your presence. Much like the first night you had met and the times after, you both spent the dinner talking and laughing. This was the most normal, but also best Harry had felt in a long time. He hadn't realized how he never really got to be a young person due to all the insane things he’d gone through his six years at Hogwarts and then before with his aunt and uncle. But here he was with you, doing the most normal thing. Harry’s troubles were lifted off of his shoulders. There was no threat of Death Eaters terrorizing the streets, there was no Dark Lord out to get him; it was just him sitting down and having dinner with a woman that he really liked.

He learned more about you tonight. For one, you were also an only child. Other than your cats, you also liked dogs. And you occasionally played football with some of your cousins. Harry had never played football, but if it was anything like quidditch, he was sure that he'd love it as well.

At the end of the date, he took you to your underground tube station. You walked side by side, hands slightly brushing against another. You walked a bit faster to stop in your tracks right in front of him. “I had a lot of fun,” you confessed.

“Me too,” Harry expressed. You looked down at your fiddling hands while Harry couldn't take his eyes off of you. He was about to say ‘good night’ before you built up the courage and kissed him on the cheek. “Night, Harry,” you beamed at him. Harry was turned into a blubbering, love-struck fool as he saw you walk further and further away. Finally, he yelled out, “I’ll see you on Monday!”

Before turning away into the tube, you waved and repeated his words back at him, “See you Monday!”

—

“Well you're certainly in a bright mood today, Mr. Potter,” Dr. Osborne observed Harry from his seat. Since the date, he’s been talking a bit brighter and his smile is more genuine than when he first came in. “Could it be because you’re seeing someone after you leave?” All Harry could do was smile. “Well I’m very happy that you now have a companion aside from your friends.”

Harry nodded before he replied back, “Thank you, sir.”

“No need to thank me, Mr. Potter. You did this on your own,” Dr. Osborne stated. “Will you bring her to the wedding?”

“No, I don't think we’re ready for that,” Harry informed. This wedding would definitely include magic and you hadn't been close to any exposure of it. “Of course.” Dr, Osborne added. There was a bit of silence after that, which gave the counselor an opportune moment to ask about some of the things that were the reason for his weekly visits. “Do you still have the nightmares?”

Harry’s smile lowered. “Yeah, I do. But not as frequent as I used to have them.” It was true, it went down from him having them about nearly everyday to only get them once every couple weeks. He thanked Merlin you were kept out of his nightmares. He didn't need to see something traumatizing.

Dr. Osborne took notes and set his notepad down. “Well, Mr. Potter. I have seen excellent progress since day one. I think we can move down to just one session per week and work our way down to once every few weeks. I'll see you next Monday.” He opened the door for Harry and shook his hand as Harry left. Harry went to your cafe right after. The daisy he gifted you was on display above the glass bread display in a small, white vase. He hoped that you regularly watered and fed it so you wouldn't notice that Harry actually hexed the flower to never die. You were currently helping someone out when Harry stood in line. Once the customer you were with left, you noticed your boyfriend – at least you assumed he was, now – standing behind a couple of people. He waved at you, and you pointed to the usual table he sat at. It was almost like you reserved the table only for him. He nodded and sat down, patiently waiting for you to finish the line of customers.

Harry was mesmerized watching you work, the beautiful, kind smile you had when talking to customers. Some of them were obviously regulars as you asked one elderly man how his grandchildren were. Once she finished helping everyone, she started working on the usual coffees and tray on biscuits for the two of you.

Harry loved hearing about your day and he wished he could tell you more beyond what happens at home that didn't include magic. He didn't know when he'd tell you about him being a wizard. Ron and Hermione told him that if he were to tell you, you're more than welcome to attend their wedding which was still a few months away now that they have all the time in the world to plan it. He didn't know what to say, but there was one thing he was sure about. He really liked, maybe even loved, how comfortable he felt around you. He liked the way your hands felt in his, your eyes shying away when you looked at him for too long. And he loved the feeling of your warm, soft lips against his at the end of the night when you had just locked the doors and he just went for it. Because in that moment, he wasn't the famous Harry Potter who saved the wizarding world, he wasn't Harry Potter who was recovering from the aftermath of the Battle. He was just Harry, and he really liked being your boyfriend.

At least he assumed he was.

—

requests open!

#harry potter #harry potter imagine #requests open #harry potter fluff #harry potter angst #harry potter x reader #harry potter x y/n #harry potter x you #harry potter x muggle!reader

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imbackmrstark · 3 years

Text

《——————》

• l e m o n b o y •

It was the kid from next door. Brown, curly hair and those sweet, thin lips. His eyes, God, his eyes, Tony could stare into them for hours. He was barely 15 years old, the boy, maybe 16, Tony had never asked and never intended to. Talking, that was the problem. Tony never had a word with the boy, not even at the welcome party; the boy's family, the Parkers – he knew that from the door sign – only moved here a few months ago, Tony had fallen in love immediately. He couldn't take his eyes off the smaller one all day long, staring at him like a hungry lion at its prey, but instead of attacking the teenager, he just smiled insecurely every now and then. He looked like an angry hamster – a sweet, angry hamster. You couldn't take him seriously, he was far too cute. Tony was head over heels in love with the boy next door. And so it began that Anthony E. Stark watched the younger one from his room window every day as he built and hammered on something outside, curious what it would be.

One day – Tony just came out of his bathroom, hair freshly washed and with a towel around his waist – he saw a small booth with a sign on it saying "lemonade $2". A smile played around his lips and he completely forgot to put something on and comb his hair, far too distracted by the sunshine down on the street, which at that moment took some lemons and pressed them into a lemonade. That's when Tony started calling him 'lemon boy', whether in his head or when he talked to his parents about the Parkers boy.

He supported his elbow on the windowsill and leaned his chin on the palm of his hand while watching the neighbor. To live across from such a beauty is a curse and a blessing in equal measure. Tony thought that even a blind man would see how much he was in love and that scared him. He couldn't–.. to be honest, he didn't even try to talk his way out of it, he had no chance, he knew he had lost to this disgusting love. Pah, who needs love! The teenager pulled a face, he needed love. Oh dammit.

He let his gaze wander back to the street and only noticed too late that Little Parker had looked up at him. A sweet smile adorned his face and he raised his hand briefly to wave sweetly. Tony's eyes widened in shock before he threw back a quick smile and jumped away from the window, getting tangled up in the blanket and falling to the floor. A soft laugh was heard from the street and the older one puffed offended.

Tony wondered why the boy had just opened his shop at the beginning of his school days. Every day from 8am to 3pm at school and then up to two hours of homework and studying. How is he supposed to find time for his lemonade? Talking about school: The teenager was sitting right now in the school bus on his way to personal hell, while Parker was once again being brought fine by Auntie. Aunt... Tony had heard that the boy's parents had died and that he was now living with his aunt and uncle. Even though he loved them, he felt bad for him. The brown-haired teen got up and grabbed his bag when the bus came to a halt, then left it to find his friends with a quick glance. That was the less difficult task, but getting there first... almost impossible.

"Tonyy!" A girl with brown hair waved at him before she ran to him with her bouncing boobs to give him a cheerful hug. "How was the holiday, big boy? You're fine?"

"Sorry, but who were you again?" Faces and names, not Tony's domain at all, especially when he sees so many of them a day. Most popular boy in school problem.

The girl made an offended expression on her face and was about to start complaining when she was harshly interrupted.

"Stark. Why don't you stop flirting and join us? We've been waiting here forever." That voice... That fucking voice. It could only come from one lady, and you better not fuck with her. A request was a request and she never took no for an answer, never ever.

"Natasha, darling... Of course, I'm on my way," he replied instantly, looking forward to having his peace and quiet from all the annoying students, because one thing was made clear on the first day of school: James Barnes hates people and will beat up anyone who didn't get official permission to stay near him. Even Steve, an old best friend, now just a friend, to get him into the group took days and now... now the two of them can't be separated anymore. They are one of the favorite couples at this school.

"Hey man," Steve grinned at him slightly, his typical greeting after the holidays, just to get warm again. They parted quarrelling back then - Tony had caught him sleeping with his girlfriend, now ex-girlfriend, Pepper, and instead of an apology he only got to hear that she was a slut and he just wanted to show him that she was wrong. It took years to stand so close to him again without Tony wanting to punch him in the face.

"What's up?" He wasn't a real speaker, he hated this job most in everyday life anyway. He listened to his friends most of the time and answered everyone only the most necessary questions. Only with some of them he could come out a bit more. For example his best friend Rhodey and maybe even a little bit with Natasha.

The happy expression on his face when the bell rang couldn't go unnoticed by his friends, which is why a little grin crept across Rhodey's face before he put his hand on Tony's shoulder and went to class with him. The hours stretched like chewing gum and the teenager became so bored that he voluntarily started talking to the people around him. Sometimes a little word with the girl next to him and sometimes a few sentences with a buddy of his named Thor. They got along well, even if Thor wasn't the brightest candle on the chandelier. It was always funny to listen to the boy, how he put up crazy theories. Weirdo. After the English lesson they walked together through the corridors to their lockers, which happened to be close together. On the way there, the paths of Tony and the Lemon Boy crossed, who smiled softly, then immediately looked down at the floor again. At school Tony wore the pants, here he was braver and here he could stand his looks and smiles. At home then rather less, the boy made him weak.

"Earth to Stark," Thor curiously waved his hand in front of his face to regain the attention he was currently giving the sugar sweet boy. And by "giving" he meant staring at the boy like a stalker, so that even he noticed it and speeded up his walking with red cheeks. Maybe Tony was creepy, yes, maybe, but it was all due to stupid love. If it didn't exist, none of this would've happened. He puffed, glanced back up at Thor, who raised an eyebrow questioningly. "Why don't you ask him out?"

"Just shut up, you have no idea." He grumbled discontentedly and turned back around to see Bucky leaning against Tony's locker, smiling knowingly. Of course he knew what was going on in Tony's head. He'd been through the whole thing himself. With Steve, in fact. He shook his head, his hair falling unintentionally into his face, so Steve's hand slid towards him instantly and brushed a strand of hair out of his face. Of course the blond guy was not far away from his lover, always at his side, that asshole. Tony rolled his eyes, stood right in front of them and showed with a quick movement of his head that he wanted to get to his locker.

"What do you want, idiot? Ohh, your locker. Ah sorry, but I am standing here right now, find yourself another place, will you?" Bucky replied with wagging eyebrows and a smirk on his lips.

"Fuck off or I'll punch you in the face, idiot." Tony's nerves were shot to shit. First the beautiful boy who gave him a smile and now a fucking bastard who interrupted his daydreams. "Come on, just say what you're getting at. Come on, one word and I'll show you some respect, you little pain in the ass."

"I haven't heard so many words from you in a long time, you little bitch." He laughed happily, like this was all some sort of game to him. Being a bit annoying to his friends, his favorite hobby, it seems. Not to Steve, apparently, because his body showed something quite different. He was tense and his hands were clenched in fists as if he was about to intervene any second to protect his lover, even if he could do it well himself.

"Okay big boys, that's enough." The redhead who almost always got Tony out of difficult situations, intervened again. "There's a real tense atmosphere here, don't you think?"

"Completely agree with you," confirmed Thor, who was a little tense himself. It wouldn't be the first time that Bucky and Tony would fight, it happened almost every month, but it hasn't been as bad as today for a long time.

"The motherfucker's in love, totally, and he knows that I know and he knows that I know who it is and that... that scares him." That grin on his face and those eyes that radiated such joy, like he thought he'd won. Tony couldn't help himself. He swung and punched the asshole right in the face.

"Tony!!!"

"Gee, I've already apologized. He's just a little drama queen, we all know that." Tony paced the hallway outside the hospital room trying desperately to talk his way out. Meanwhile, Thor sat in the far too small chair and watched him pacing as if it was even remotely exciting.

"Holy shit, you broke his fucking nose!" Clint, another friend of Tony's, or rather Natasha's, interfered and threw the facts back on the table. Tony shrugged his shoulders.

"He provoked me. He always provokes me. I hope this has taught him a lesson."

"Absolutely, motherfucker," Bucky muttered sarcastically as he came out of the hospital room with Steve holding his hand and his face in pain. He had a white bandage on his nose and some blood on his upper lip. Tony leaned against the opposite wall and crossed his arms in front of his chest, raised one eyebrow while trying not to look as if he was actually worried. "Don't pretend, you son of a bitch, I know you love me and you're really, really sorry. And you know what? I forgive you, okay? Because I love you too, pal."

"Dude, what? I don't love you, man. That's totally gay, stop fucking around. Damn, now I've wasted my time with all this shit too. I'll see you guys tomorrow, you little pesky kids." He shook his head with a sigh before he pushed himself off the wall and walked down the corridor to the exit. It was already 4pm, he had wasted a whole hour.

When he opened the glass door and went outside, he saw an all-too-familiar brunette sitting there on a small wall with his arms wrapped around his backpack and fear in his eyes. Tony curled his eyebrows. What was Parker still doing here? He didn't want to, but he had to. He gathered up all his courage and walked towards the boy, who noticed his neighbour much too late and quickly looked up with big eyes.

"Hey, lemon boy," murmured Tony softly, avoiding eye contact most of the time, but when the boy didn't answer, he raised his head. "What are you still doing here?"

"You're Tony S-Stark, right? The boy next door.. right?" The smaller one wiggled his legs unsteadily around and bit his lower lip.

"Yes, I am, but that wasn't my question." He shifted his weight to one leg, tried to look a little cooler and also tried not to stare at the kid the whole time.

"Oh, yeah, right, sorry. I... um... Ben, my uncle... he was gonna pick me up, but he doesn't answer, and, yeah, so..-"

Tony took a deep breath before he just let his question shoot out of him. "Will you walk home with me? Then we won't be alone and I don't have to feel bad about leaving you here. I'll have to walk anyway."

"I, um... Sure, why not. I'm Peter, by the way, I'm not sure if you knew that yet. So, um, yeah..." He bounced off the wall and shouldered his bag before he walked down the street beside Tony. He was glad he was asked, he would never have dared to walk alone along the main road and then across country roads while it was already getting dark.

"To be honest, I didn't know, sorry." The older one gripped the straps of his backpack tighter so his ankles turned white. He looked down, barely daring to look at the smaller one, but he was so incredibly beautiful, how could he not?

Tony had to admit that his idea to ask Peter to come along was really good, considering the long way in darkness. Living in a village two hours away from the nearest school and then having to walk across country isn't the yellow of the egg, but Tony was used to it. He grew up in this house and even his parents always had to go this way back then, so he couldn't complain. As long as you caught the bus that ran twice before and after school, everything was fine. If you got detention or missed it, you were just unlucky and had to walk or to ask someone to pick you up. When Tony looked at the boy, he shivered under the cold of the night and he couldn't help but take off his jacket and put it over his shoulder, even if he was freezing to death himself. Peter looked up in surprise, then smiled thankfully and squeezed himself a little more by Tony's side.

"Are you afraid? I mean, in the dark?", asked the taller one quietly after a short time, while he was about to protect the boy with his arm.

"When I'm alone, sometimes." muttered Peter uncertainly, then looked up with his round eyes. Tony just wanted to bend down and kiss him, but he didn't. He'd talked to the boy for the first time today, so he couldn't ambush him with a kiss.

"And now? Are you afraid?", the older one asked after a long time of silence, just looking straight and avoiding trembling. This cold was killing him and the sweet boy with the far too big jacket next to him as well. Tony's jacket was like a blanket for Peter, his fingertips could barely be seen and then there was this magical smile on his lips.

The next moment the little one shook his head to answer the question that was asked a few minutes ago. "Somehow, no. This jacket makes me feel safe, I don't know... Thanks again.", mumbled Peter and crawled a little more into the fabric.

"Just the jacket?" He squinted his eyes over to Peter, suppressed his grin when he noticed the red cheeks.

"No, because of you too, my hero." Peter raised his arm and pointed to the first houses they saw after two hours walking. "Almost there!"

"Finally. My feet are killing me and I'm hungry, too. It's all Bucky's fault."

"Who's Bucky? Ah, wait, is that the boy with the long hair? The one you punched in the face?" They turned into a street and walked a few more blocks until they were in front of their homes and they were still standing outside to continued their talk. "Why did you hit him, anyway?"

"Not so important. He was an asshole again, and he was begging for it." Tony shrugged and walked towards Peter's house like it was normal, leaving him stunned. "You coming? I'll take you home like a gentleman."

"Oh, yeah, yeah... thanks, um, sorry, I'm coming." Peter hurried to get to Tony and smiled thankfully at him, while he was already knocking at the door. It was opened by a young woman with long brown hair who looked surprised and then tore Peter into her arms with relief.

"Oh God Peter! I was so worried! Ben feels so bad, he had to work late and his phone... and... and..."

"May, breathe! It's all fine, Tony brought me home, nothing happened." Peter slowly separated from his aunt and looked over his shoulder, smiling, at Tony, who only raised his hand briefly.

"Thank you, Tony... How can we ever repay you? You know what... You come over for dinner tomorrow and Ben takes you back after school, no buts."

A smile was on Tony's face and he quickly thanked her. "See you tomorrow, lemon boy."

It was until late in the evening - Tony was sitting up in his room, on his bed, thinking about what happened today - when he noticed that Peter still had his jacket. He sighed and looked over his shoulder out of the window to look into the boy's room. Apparently he was already asleep; the light was off and the curtains drawn. He just hoped that the younger one would give him his jacket back tomorrow.

Being back at school the next day and standing next to Bucky was more than uncomfortable for him. The teachers had all put a few more eyes on him and he felt like he was being watched almost the whole time. While he listened to the others talking, he kept an eye out for the boy he saw after a few minutes with another boy and a girl. And what took his breath away was that Peter was wearing his much too big jacket and looked outrageously cute. Without thinking about it, Tony walked up to the boy, ignoring that his friends were silent and watched him. After a short time Peter looked up and smiled softly, raised his hand and waved briefly before Tony stood right in front of him.

First he just stared at the little one, then opened his mouth and closed it again until he remembered why he came here. "My jacket."

"O-oh, yeah, right, sorry about that." Peter was about to take them off when Tony took the hem of the jacket in his hands and tightened it more.

"No, don't. It looks really good on you, makes you even sweeter," murmured Tony softly, just looking at his chest.

"Um... Thanks? I can give them back to you after dinner tonight, though. I mean-" When Tony looked up, he saw Peter biting his lower lip uncomfortably.

"You can keep them." The teenager smiled slightly, then nodded again, let his hands slide off the jacket, turned around and went back to his idiot friends, who all grinned at him knowingly. "One word and the next nose's broken."

"Since when?" Steve asked quietly, nodding towards Peter, who was giggling around with his friends.

"Since when what? Since when am I in love? Since when do I want to turn my whole life upside down for this one person? Since when would I do anything for that one person? Holy shit!" Tony angrily ran his fingers into his hair and ripped it. "I've been so fucking in love and I have been ever since I first saw him..." Unintentionally a tear of desperation rolled down his cheek as he squeezed his eyes to avoid the glances of his friends.

"Actually, I was going to ask you, since when are you into guys too, but it's probably not important. Come here." Steve then opened his arms and pulled his old friend into them, then held him tight. Tony put his head on Steve's shoulder and sighed deeply.

"It's okay, Stark," mumbled Bucky after a short while, before carefully putting his hand on Tony's back.

Tony then tore himself away from them, straightened his clothes, wiped away his tears and put on a smile. "Whatever, boys. Class is about to start, we should go inside, don't you think?" He didn't even wait for an answer, he immediately went into the school and to his locker to get his new books. As he turned around and walked on, a small figure suddenly stood in front of him, looking worried.

"Are you okay, Tony? I just.. saw you.. with the blond guy. You looked sad. Is it because of the jacket? Does it mean anything to you? Do you want it back?" Peter's eyes radiated such warmth and such concern for nothing. Tony felt bad that Peter thought it was his fault. Even if it was, but he didn't want him to think it was. He shook his head.

"No. It makes me happy that you're wearing mine. It's just... nothing." The taller one leaned his side against the lockers, looking down with a would-be cool look at the boy, who pressed his lips together, shook his head and flinched slightly when the bell rang. "Don't you want to go to class?"

"I'd rather talk to you. You're not well, something makes you sad...", Peter said, crossing his arms in front of his chest and panting discontentedly.

In the corner of his eye, Tony noticed Bucky and Steve walking past him, smiling softly and winking at him. They really could never stop. Deep inside, Tony wanted to prove something to them, just kiss the boy, but when he looked into the dark brown round eyes, he couldn't bring himself to do it.

"Shall we go to the library? Talk?", asked the younger one quietly, pulled gently on his sleeve and then went with his neighbour into the room of books. Once there, Peter sat down with Tony at a table that was a bit more private and then looked at him gently. "I haven't known you long. In fact, yesterday was the first time we spoke. But... I feel like I've known you for years, it's weird. And I just want you to be happy... that you know that you can talk to me when something's wrong.. And you can even come over to me anytime.. We could sit in my room and do something. Play games or talk or just lie on my bed and... It sounds crazy, sorry."

"It doesn't sound crazy at all, it's rather nice. I'd love to come to your house sometimes and do stuff like that. Or invite you over to my place. You know, Peter, I like you. I really like you a lot and that scares me a bit," confessed Tony with an insecure smile on his lips. Peter struggled with himself for a few seconds, but then smiled and nodded in agreement at him.

"If you're coming for dinner tonight, we can go to my room afterwards.. if you want?"

Tony nodded quickly, maybe even a bit too quickly.

Tony smiled slightly at the unfamiliar man as he took off his backpack and put it on his lap as he sat in the Parkers' car. His friends, who were waiting for the bus as usual, looked at him in confusion and then grinned a little. He couldn't even remember when the last time was when he was picked up from school in a car and apparently you could see it in his face because Peter, who was sitting next to him, was smiling happily at him and if Tony was honest, it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

"So, Tony, I heard you're coming over for dinner later?", asked Mr. Parker him after a short time in which Tony and the boy were just looking at each other smiling.

The teenager looked up quickly and nodded at the man. "Yes sir, that's right. Um... thanks again for picking me up and, of course, for the dinner later."

"Wow, easy, boy. No problem. I'd really do anything to thank you for bringing my boy home. I still can't forgive myself." With clenched lips, the man kept driving, only looking back through the rearview mirror once in a while.

"Ben it wasn't your fault, okay? Your boss was giving you trouble again, you couldn't help it. I was safe with Tony, he even gave me his jacket." Peter talked about Tony as if he was head over heels in love with him, as if he wasn't even there right now and Tony only noticed much too late that he was grinning up to his ears.

"You're welcome, little lemon," muttered he with a smile, placing his hand delicately on Peter's knee, who widened his eyes a little, but then wrapped both his hands around Tony's wrist and smiled sweetly at him.

"'Little lemon,' sweet... Look, Pete, he even has a nickname for you already. I think you're gonna be great friends," said Ben as he rounded the last corner and pulled into the Parkers' parking lot. "All right, guys, get out and get in. May should have dinner ready by now."

"Oh eat already? I was counting on tonight... um, yeah, okay, well, then now." Tony scratched the back of his head slightly, then got out of the car with Peter and Ben and went into the house behind them, where it already smelled wonderfully of food.

"We're more like those people who eat lunch instead of dinner, so don't be surprised. I hope you don't mind," Peter asked the taller one quietly, looked up at him and seemed a bit anxious. He was apparently panicking that Tony maybe leave because he might not be hungry.

"And we talk about dinner all the time." Tony laughed briefly, then put his arm around Peter's shoulder and walked into the dining room with him. "No, that's okay, I'm hungry anyway."

The room wasn't really large, but therefore totally cosy and the brown, long table that was standing there seemed to have already gone through some moves. The chairs seemed to be comfortable, Peter also immediately dropped on one and knocked on the chair next to him, indicating to Tony to sit down as well, which he did directly. After a short time the woman from last night entered the room with a pot in her hands, which she placed on the table in front of Peter and Tony. May smiled happily at Tony, greeted him very briefly and then sat down on the chairs opposite of them with Ben.

"So Tony, how you doing, my boy? Why don't you get something to eat, come on. Have as much as you want." May took the big spoon and filled Tony's plate so that he thanked her overburdened and looked at Peter, who also put something on his own and started eating.

"I'm fine, thanks for asking." Tony smiled broadly, kept peeking over at Peter, eating carefully and full of manners.

Suddenly it became quiet in the room and the two boys looked up in wonder. May had a satisfied smile on her lips, exchanged a few glances with her husband, who nodded knowingly and shoved another spoonful of food into his mouth.

"Peter, my boy... Tony look at you like you're his entire world..", recognized she warmly, as warmly as Tony's cheeks after he had noticed how he had been staring at the boy the whole time.

"T-That's not true at all!" Tony tried to talk his way out, his cheeks should be as red as strawberries.

Peter's eyes fell on Tony's plate and he hesitated briefly before opening his mouth and quietly asked if he was finished and if they wanted to go to his room. He nodded quickly, apologized to the adults and then went upstairs behind Peter.

Tony tensed as he sat unsteadily on the edge of Peter's bed. The boy himself, meanwhile, grabbed all his dirty laundry off the floor and tossed it into some corner before scratching the back of his head in shame.

"I'm sorry.. about.. you know. I forgot to clean up..." Peter shyly clasped his hands in front of him and rocked back and forth unsteadily while he smiled slightly.

"That's okay. At least your room can still be considered as a room." A soft laugh escaped his throat and a moment later two brown eyes looked at him, squinted a bit because he had to grin too.

"Yours that bad?" The boy asked, tilting his head and grinning broadly.

"Oh darling, you have no idea. My room resembles a jungle and to be honest, I don't really feel like changing anything about it." Tony shrugged his shoulders indifferently, before he slid a little to the side to make room for the other, who now wanted to sit down on the bed as well. Unlike Tony, however, he crawled back to the wall, against he leaned with a smile.

"You don't have to sit there like that... Come here." Peter lightly tapped the mattress beside him with the flat of his hand, and after a moment's hesitation, the older one took a seat beside him.

He made himself a little more comfortable before looking down at the boy with a smile. Just a little, they were almost at eye level as they sat there like that. Peter bit his lower lip briefly and batted his eyelashes quickly as he tried to tear his gaze away from the other. Silence fell between them and when Tony realized that Peter would not be looking at him anytime soon, he gently took his chin with two fingers and delicately turned his head in his direction. His smile fell easily, so captivated was he by the eyes in front of him.

"So.. You gonna kiss me.. or?" Peter murmured softly as he got closer and closer to the teenager. Along the way, he tried to read the other's body language so as not to have misinterpreted anything.

"So you want me to kiss you?" Tony asked in a somber voice before carefully sliding his hand up Peter's leg to his hip to pull him even closer. "I mean.. we're both boys and..–"

"I don't care. Doesn't matter. I want it, kiss me." He took it in his own hands now and pulled Tony close so he could feel the other's breath on his lip. "Kiss me..."

Tony opened his mouth in surprise, clawing deeper with his fingers into flesh beneath him before making a tortured sound and placing his lips on Peter's. He wasn't sure if that had been the boy's first kiss, but instead of asking, he just pressed his lips to the ones in front of him again. Peter ran his delicate fingers into Tony's hair and tugged lightly on them, so he was separated from the younger one with parted lips.

"Wow..."

"Wow....."

"Um. Can we just... lie here a bit now? And do nothing? While Holding hands?"

"Yes.. Yes we can."

• T H E E N D •

Thank u for reading c:

#starker #peter parker #tony stark #peter parker x tony stark #implied stucky #implied ex-pepperony

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whimsically-ominously-auspice · 4 years

Text

If i had to pick an American Cookie that can be bought in the store today, hands down it would be this one.

Living in New Mexico for 20 years, i rarely see a black person. I can go 785 days without seeing an African American. Because i have.

So, it's shocking to go to Arkansas or even Oklahoma and see large groups of Black People and i stare. I don't forget they exist due to the internet.. But I never see them so it's like visiting Mount Rushmore or the Grand Canyon. Its this natural amazing marvel. And I just stare usually with my jaw dropped like some social retard. Which I'm not typically. And Hey -- I'm not the only New Mexican that does that shit. We simply have a serious minority of African Americans here. I understand places like Mississippi don't think they're a minority. But if i can leave my house every day and not see a African American, then you're a minority. Just as in higher areas of African American Domination, i like to call it, there isn't many Latina or Hispanic or Mexicans as there are here. In Mississippi, they're a minority and here they're all "bitch we rule this shit! We own New Mexico!"

So due to actual minority being true of African Americans (in the 90s i picked it because it was always claimed officially so I just accepted as NYC is a huge vast mix of all kinds of culture. I figured they actually went out and counted them. But i wanted to explain to those whom don't travel and don't experience life in other places in the United States.

So in the 90s the Harringtons and I and as he preferred to be called, Captain Negro, his super hero name. Captain Negro del ela Ponte if you wanted to get legal about it. Decided to pick an "American Cookie" we could easily purchase for Sunday nights. And of course it had to be absolutely perfect.

"Taste Great but Look the Part as Touched by a negros heart and soul" said Captain Negroponte as I called him or Captain Negro Party or Captain Negro Parte especially when i didn't know how to explain something.

I tell you. I've always been smart. Miss Leena always hides and plays dumb and just tells history. But to compare and contrast and make analogies i truly learned from this man whom was my English Compilation Teacher, a True Super Hero.

For the cookie experiment. I talked to Miss Leena but she wouldn't explain. She just gave me the type of cookie and told me I would know what to do.

William Harrington said, "I dont know to me a cookie is just a cookie and my wife makes them great!"

And Willingima. we called her, Harrington, at the (jokingly) threat of our own lives said she did not know either she just had to bake she had said as when quietly embroidered under the table a gift for the Captain Hero's family.

So he came over and we told him and his eyes lit up and he was bouncing around with excitement at the table. "So the cookies are.... But I sure don't know how to explain anything but the chocolate"

"Okay explain me"

I did

"And these are just regular old fashioned chocolate chip, not chocolate on chocolate dough or white chocolate chip?"

"I could ask miss leena but im sure it's the old fashioned."

"Lets call her"

She said that the Chocolate dough (black/dark brown dough) with white chocolate chips would be An African cookie -- for their culture here in America and in actually Africa.

So we were all at the phone all listening in, the phone turned all the way up. Now this is the 90s wall phone no speaker phone ability.

So Captain Negroponte told me back at the table, "so you know the old fashioned. Idk why she wouldn't explain the chocolate on chocolate because of the two different browns. But you know I'll stay out of it. I think i do know the sugar but let me just check. What did she say on the phone to you when she called?"

"Well she called just out of the blue. Asked for Sabrina and i thought she was asleep and so i said she was as she hadn't came down (stairs -- our bedrooms were up and i was just living there For the summer or however long until i had to go back to work into the city i moved out October 9, 1991 due to riots in Brooklyn because i had to go help as i spoke about this last week. Officially moved in July 4th of the same year) and she said and i quote "well just tell sabrina this, that i called and she needs to do a cookie experiment. A white old fashioned cookie of chocolate chip flavor and a sugar cookie. She should know what to do with all of your help" she sounded old and she said her husband wasn't home and she was just resting. So i said "well ill let you go" and she said no and wanted to know all about our enterprise feeding the Street neighborhood kids and asked about money and she said "well Sabrina can help" do you -- do you have money? I sure am tired of eating hot dogs myself. This is getting expensive! I mean for us"

I replied "i do have some... Ill talk to Steve to see what we should do and how much and the best way to go about this"

"No now you seem nervous and she said you have a lot"

"Billions" she said the same time I said "millions"

"And you said some.. You said what? What you got now hon?"

"You said I'm a billionaire and i wouldn't ever lie to anyone but Steve explained to me, hes my lawyer, he said that i needed not to explain how rich i am but if someone needed money I'm to say i only have one million dollars and that is it. And i said "but that is a lie!" And he said "but no it is not not when I'm not allowing you to give out more than thousands without my approval" and i was mad!!! But in the end i saw what Steve said i should see. Its dangerous to advertise how rich i am"

"Bull shit! We probably have the richest girl in the world here sitting at our table and im telling her to penny pinch! Babe! We're having steaks next week! Put that on the list!"

"I'll pay you guys all back!"

"No!" "No!" "No!"

"No. Yes i mean i know you all did it from the goodness of your hearts but you shouldn't suffer. And i didn't realize that you were. I mean i thought you just wanted to eat hot dogs. I didn't know there was any difference"

"Blah!"

"So what I'll do. Because Steve said I'm allowed up to thousands and you're still in hundreds last i checked. $991 for the last three weeks for the entire house budget. So I'll at least double that and give Captain Nero the same. For the time y'all have spent working and then what i meant i would have to talk to Steve is that I would have to design a plan for the future. What he's talked about is supplying a credit card with a limit capable of exceeding the design purchases. So like if you need $900,000 a month then the credit card would allow $1 million. That's what hes explained to me. Then he would supply 12 blank checks for the year then all you would do is call the number on the back of the card once monthly to find out the balance and get the address, write the check and then mail it to the credit card company. Easy as that. He would get the bills to look over to see you're not scamming me. Then he can stop payment on the rest of the checks if you are and cancel the card. That goes for everyone. So for this i think that is what he would pick. It sounds simple. Of course, I don't pay bills or anything like that. Steve always handles it for me. But I'll still have to talk to Steve to get that program under way. And I'll make sure he pays you and you and of course you for past supplies and your time"

So they agreed to the extra payment but wanted to do work free. Mrs Harrington got $15 per day for taking care of me. And still does although she doesn't take care of me anymore, her influence still lives within me and is what made me who I truly am today.

If it wasn't for her, I wouldn't ever asked criminals how they wanted their ending to be. I would have ripped them off the streets and tortured them one by one ripping off pieces of their body while injected with a chemical that made them highly alert and aware of what was happening. For 6 years and 600 days. Them never knowing when it would be the day to lose something they deemed important.

Instead of dungeons and torture chambers, they have a chance at luxury and happiness.

Those asking for death instead have a right to live in peace and make their amends and do as they need. The miserable are killed first to stop their pain and suffering. 72 wanted vacation before. They got that.

If it wasn't for the Harringtons and Captain Negro, never would that occurred.

They saved a wretch like me and in turn, I saved those worst than me. As Jesus would. She taught me all about the belief of Jesus and who they believed he was

Over Captain Harrington's right shoulder was a cross with me looking down or asleep. They eyes were closed. I felt it was the most accurate representation of me. It even had lumps on it's chest. And I always felt so much responsibility. She believed the Unorthodox Jewish ways with a Catholic overcoat. She was non-religious before marriage so she had a mix of views and dabble in all spirits of religion. Also, the occult.

So when her cheeks were pink and her bright blue eyes lit up, and she told me about Jesus. I always prayed to the Lord in Hevaen that I would live up to her expectations.

And often I would look at that cross and feel the thorns cutting into my forehead. "I hope we can do it. Change the world as expected" I would say.

There were times i would take it off the wall "i feel Jesus should watch some T.V., too" i didn't want to say who i was. Mrs Harrington thought i felt that crown of thorns because Jesus was telling me that i knew things and i should act. Of course I didn't really know who I was, either, at first. Mommy thought it was too much but Daddy told me and said I should keep it secret. But I could tell who or what I want. So I decided to honor mommy and not say. But incorporate Jesus since he was such a big part of Catholicism and decor in the house, daddy said that would make Jesus alive in the house and keep my secret. But allow my full powers to bloom.

And it worked.

So Captain Negroponte said that day that he kept getting questions from one particular kid as tall as me about White Supremacy and how his family taught him that all white people were bad and "only play with nigger kids" so he was certain he knew how to explain the white sugar cookie as long as i could do "the chocolate chip without fail then it would all be good and life would be perfect for this particular child"

"I can. I know just what to do. It will be perfect"

"Okay don't tell me. I dont want to hear until that day"

So he left with a bounce and his eyes glittery. His soul full of tears for this young man, looking back where he left all his hope and faith, walked down the short dark hall and into the sunlight of a cool brisk Saturday afternoon.

"Hey now i might need some help. I know i need to show the white dough and then how it tans when baked. I got that talking to her on the phone"

"Well she didn't say --"

"She said Bake. And i was transformed back into her kitchen and had a white plastic bowl which i put into the oven -- it was empty and out it came a clay not crystal like ours but ceramic Brown bowl with the white inside. So i know what to say about White people tanning to make 2 races so we all have to support the black"

"You you get!! So not all white people are the same!!! Good good!!"

"Shew! Thank you! So I was at the kitchen in the sink.. I mean -- i said that backwards -- so anyway I'm in the kitchen and i see the silver sink and the bowl appears before my eyes and suddenly im holding it in my hands and i went to hand the phone to you as i tried to hand the bowl to her in my standing hands and she didn't sound old like she did in the phone, she sounded very young and sing song. And she said "no the children" so what we have to do is give the bowl to each of the children and let them mix it themselves. That will help white supremacy in however that means. So then the black kids all add the chocolate chips. And then when we bake. That will represent the Muslims that i used to help when in was younger and who framed me to be as i am today. But the kids don't all know that so it will represent all the darker but lighter skin than black you know like Puerto Riccans and Vietnamese and Chinese and all those sorts of people and how the African Americans have inserted their "language" into us to make the world such an amazing place. Without them we wouldn't be the cookie we are today here in 1991. Isn't that right, Jesus?"

"Oh don't look at him so harsh. What do you need me to do?"

"Bake the cookies. At the start we will mix then he will tell a story then we will do the baking. We can do two days in a row or we can help you here in the kitchen. Megan and i can take turns like we always do and so if we wanted to spread the word for two weeks since its getting so cold, we can start in the afternoon instead of dusk. And do the two different cookies the same time -- No i mean in the ssme day"

"Okay that could work. We will just let Captain Nero know and I'm sure he could come up with two great stories to pass the time. And you will pay?"

"Oh yes. Yes of course. And when I talk to Steve I'll ensure Miss Harriet Tubman is getting her cut although she always paid on her own and said she was on solid woman and could make it doing all she pleased, her husband is still working. But he's a police sergeant so I know its not for money. But she could buy her something nice with his pension."

"Pension?"

"Oh he has two. He works a lot. One thinks she's like 80 and the other 102 or 103 i think it is. So one will be cut surely i assume. She said she doesn't think she can make it to 120 without them getting onto her"

"And his paycheck?"

"Oh he donates it to science. They own their own trailer and car and BBQ"

"BBQ?"

"BBQ Grill. Of course though if i gave her money she would probably just clothes the whole entire neighborhood. I'll ask Steve if thats what she wants or that i could do. She said that was the only thing she had left in life to apply for. I guess she always knew i had money thats why she gave me the evil eye. She always provides them gloves in the winter -- except she buys them in the summer when they're cheaper and puts them in a box to save them till it gets cold again. I tell you. She is smart. So about these sugar cookies. I sure hope it works. It seems the opposite of what we set out to do. All white with beautiful crystals on top. She said to make them look so worthwhile and be as perfect as possible..."

So while the White Supremacist cookie is after all just a cookie that we used to explain to a child that was deeply courageous to learn more and actually educated his parents and they hugged me with forgiveness, myself being white.

I have explained the example. And to further educate, the Sugar Cookie in all other reality when not used for a demonstrations, is just a cookie we bake when we have no other additives.

But as Captain Negro (you may call him Captain Nero as Mrs Harrington would as she refused to "see" any color other than the colors of the rainbow") explained we should always try to find something good to add to something that is empty of extras. Be it fruit from like the Garden of Eden or be it nuts or seeds like Big Bird from Sesame Street, prefers, we should always fill our life and our cookies with as much goodness as possible. But some days, he said, some days its okay to have just a plain ole bit of sugar. As long as it's full of love and not hate.

So please do enjoy your plain white sugar cookies that are made with love. Black Panthers nor "all" white people do not encourage prejudice -- even if it's just against a cookie.

God bless us.

So we picked for our "American Cookie" the cookie below: because of the way it looks and the way it tastes. I encourage you to buy some today. As you can see the chocolate chips are hidden just as African American Heritage is hidden. And when we take a bite a beautiful explosion of chocolate erupts and elivenes our spirits.

And to top the cookie off, all of this occurs inside. Hidden away. Just like our souls are.

Thank you for listening. If these people could touch you just one percent how much they changed my life and gave me love and education and pride and so much faith in other people. Then you will be so better off

I hope you allow them to touch your souls.

Now here is the cookie you all have been waiting for:

We would laugh. And call it the "Soft Bitch" we may be going hard and fighting loud but we always have time for a tear, a hand to hold, a face to hug.

Because this is The United States of America. And she ain't all that bad. Not her citizens. Her government. Yes. But her citizens are blessed by her rich history of which she had no control over.

The American Cookie. A brown cookie, like a white person tans with perfect pieces of Black African American heart and soul baked in. Cookies of the United States of America. I always called them "American Cookies" We even had kids sit and mix up chocolate chip dough from scratch, each child getting to mix and have an ingredient added while they mixed. They all got to see the raw dough was White. Then They were baked with love by Momma Harrington and they came out tan. Like white people do in the sun. So they could see for certain how the African American were and are in the souls and minds of white people. And how without the African American pieces of love they were not complete. To prove this we made cookies without the chips and they were bland. "But What about White Supremacy? Because that was just America without us. But What about how they think?" I was asked. "I guess we could try Sugar Cookies then and see what happens. So we made beautiful sugar cookies with sugar crystals on top. Thank God our Black Panther Leader knew the words because i was at a loss.

"We all mixed and made those cookies. We saw what was in them! Sugar! We made them appeasing to the eye and different looking and more special looking than an old Chocolate Chip with those crystals. But those crystals?!? They ain't nothing. We got them in chocolate chip and that is all they put in the White Mass cookies. Then we sprinkled a little on top to make them look clean and beautiful like a real treasure. But the Treasure is Truth!!! They're missing the real thing! Sure they look beautiful especially in the sun, the crystals reflecting the lights all over but those crystals are Blinding us to the Truth!!! They are all a fraud!! But go ahead, eat them. I would too. White supremacist and all. Now let's growl!!"

Reminder Established in 1991:

Miss Leena has a different fund called ""Harriet Tubman's Self Worth Working Still Today" and she has 778 users of my funds whom also feed the people of their neighborhood and streets. They do collard greens, steak and potatoes soup daily. Saturday and Sunday add hot dogs and Sunday Morning they do their African American Heritage Stories. Of course 68% are certified Black Panthers as well but no one has to pledge to an organization to feed children with love m they just follow their hearts.

The account labeled "Black Panther Food Allocation - For the Street Kids" 962 people across the globe do this on their personal streets nightly. Feed kids collard greens, hot dogs and/or hamburgers (with cheese and iceberg lettuce, tomato, onions, relish and so on). And on Sundays tell the stories of Black American Leaders that intended to destroy prejudice and mistreatment and succeeded and the listeners all get cookies.

Of course I bought the secret Cookie to represent our Nation. The United States of America.

The United States was founded officially on July 4, 1776.

Due to this i requested our policy be to employ no more than 77% of African American and no less than 76% the remaining percent be of at least 4 different shades of white.

We start at $18 per hour as that is the adult age in the USA to represent freedom. We employ 2020 in each factory setting arena.

Then we changed the recipe, to take out the lumps. To promise a better and smoother future for all.

The Original cookie to represent the past is gone is pictured on the box as well as an elf. It is not misrepresentation of what is inside, unless you expected to find an elf as well. In no way is there any identifying words that says that is the what the cookie looks like inside. But it is the Original cookie artwork packaging as i bought it in 1991.

We have been sued over the artwork not representing the contents. Once i sued myself and won. I got good game. Y'all. Persuaded everyone to see it my way! It was a mock trial. And so it was to prepare for a real trial which did occur and we did win. We simply told the truth of our packaging and said we were not ready to reveal it. It was 2007 and we hadn't done a full reveal since 1991 and so why not leave us alone as we couldn't promise the change?!?!

We did word of mouth and some soft T.V. programming to indicate it. But never The full storey as I have today in pulic.

So again here is the Original cookie it did actually look like but did crumble more -- we kept that chocolate chip explosion. But bake them twice to have an outer coating of smoothness.

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