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#you don't know what you've got til it's gone
ghostoftonantzin · 8 months
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I want to make a list of all the ways Nandor was pathetic over Guillermo in this most recent episode, from memory and not in order:
telling Guillermo to run when it became clear the Baron wanted Guillermo dead.
following the Baron out of the room to beg for mercy for Guillermo in front of the entire roast. I cannot emphasize enough that he did this to save his familiar in front of a whole room of other vampires and Sean.
clutching Guillermo's sweater like a security blanket
cheerfully handing out glasses of blood and flat pepsi when everyone else in the room is aware that he has been metaphorically cuckolded by his familiar
cradling "Guillermo's" dead body and giving a whole speech about how much he meant to him. After refusing to let Guillermo touch him for four and a half seasons
remembering the exact words written in the card Guillermo gave him over thirteen years ago
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howifeltabouthim · 1 year
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We never know the full value of a thing until we lose it. Health, prosperity, happiness, a peaceful conscience, what think we of these blessings while they are ours? But, when we lose them! why, we look back in surprise at our ungrateful apathy.
Ellen Wood, from East Lynne
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actiongrrl · 12 days
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The Hospital Thread™ @darkstarsrise
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−−−¨༺ Time had gone screwy for her. For 12 straight hours, she was so focused on seeing the light of day. That was her goal throughout the previous night. Save herself, and then once shit hit the proverbial fan, save her friends. But now? She wasn't sure how long she had been here or, really, even what time it was. But for what felt like many long hours, she had been hooked to various IVs and tubes, trying to get her body temperature up as the blonde was hypothermic when she arrived. "A warm IV and blood rewarming," a nurse with a kind smile had explained. The thought skeeved her out, and Sam could see the panic in her eyes. The lot of them had come in and caused a trauma alert. She remembered that much.
−−− Some of the others were taken to other hospitals as not to put a strain on this one, and Sam was insistent she stayed wherever Mike was. She was, frankly, surprised the second that remark left her mouth; Out of everyone, maybe Chris would have made most sense. Luckily, Mike was already slated to stay. And so it was a waiting game of blankets, warm fluids, medicine, tubes, stitches, concussion protocol, and the world's most uncomfortable bed.
−−− She dozed off, finally, but was reawakened for another blanket change and vital check by another nurse. "If you want to, I'll take you to visit your friend," she had said, which perked Sam up, eyes wide and heart pounding. And the next thing she knew she was being covertly wheeled into Mike Munroe's hospital room, a feeling of relief washing over her immediately as she was parked.
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ashtrayfloors · 9 months
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Many years ago, lost in the suburbs of Chicago with a friend of mine, while driving around trying to find the road that would lead us back to Chicago, we started talking about ghosts. Not of the supernatural variety, but rather the kind that are memory-based. The memories of past events and places and people you once knew, which tattoo themselves on the landscapes in which you’ve lived or spent a lot of time. We talked of the places which were the most ghost-full for us. I mentioned the intersection of Clark and Belmont, and the area surrounding it. I told him it surprised me that I could still hang out there, because every corner, every bus stop, every building was haunted by my own personal specters. “But they are friendly ghosts, for the most part, and friendly ghosts are okay.” “Yes,” he said, “unless you’re already depressed.” “Right,” I replied, “because then you get even more depressed, wondering why the friendly things are ghosts now, and no longer real people and places.” That’s the rub. When recalling the bad old days, you can say: “Thank g-d that’s over.” But when it’s a memory of good times, you wonder why that person/place/moment/emotion couldn’t have stuck around just a little bit longer.
—Jessie Lynn McMains, from “One Long Longing” (November 2021)
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wearevillaneve · 2 years
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My opinion: Nobody else could play Villanelle and Eve like Jodie Comer and Sandra Oh but...Jodie is 29 and Sandra is 51. The 21-22 age difference is kinda disgusting. I guess an older actress could've been cast for Villanelle, or a younger actress for Eve, but then again, nobody else could play these characters. What do you think?
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I agree with you that nobody else could have played these characters. Not the other actresses that read or tried out for the part of Villanelle and certainly not Maya Rudolph as Eve. Sometimes the planets and stars align and the coffee is brewed just so and the music hits the perfect note and you just get it right. Sandra Oh IS Eve. Jodie Comer IS Villanelle. I can't conceive of any other actress playing those parts. Accept no substitutes.
The world is full of beautiful and talented and capable actresses who could have been Eve and Villanelle. No question. Maybe Sandra decides she doesn't want to spend months on end flying from L.A. to London. Maybe Jodie decides not to fight the odds to be cast as Villanelle and tells, Phoebe Waller-Bridge, "Thanks, but no thanks." I don't get what's so "disgusting" about the age difference between the two leads. Younger women can't be attracted to older women or something? If it bothers you, then stick to Luke Jennings' books where Eve and Villanelle are closer in age. For the purposes of Waller-Bridge, she chose to go with Oh and Comer based on their chemistry together and not their age gap. There are many reasons why it shouldn't have worked, but none of them matter. What does matter is it did work. PWB, BBC America, and Sid Gentle Productions paired a young White woman from Liverpool with a heavy accent with a mature Korean woman from Canada and living in Los Angeles as an Englishwoman, and said, "Make magic happen." They made the magic. PWB's brilliant writing got the ball rolling, but it was the awesome abilities of Comer and Oh as the thespians who made Killing Eve's heart beat so strongly that carried the show through four years of churning through head writers, directors, actors, scripts, dialogue and plots of wildly varying quality. Sandra wins a Golden Globe. Jodie scores a BAFTA and an Emmy. The show garners near-universal praise and acclaim for a brilliant first season. The momentum slows in the second season but remains high with Comer's Villanelle emerging as the show's breakout sensation while Oh plugs away in a secondary, but still significant role. Along comes Season Three and with it a noticeable and precipitous drop in momentum and quality. Oh is stuck muddling along in a reduced role that only reacts to the actions of others and precipitates nothing, and is so overlooked and ignored by the head writer Eve is completely written out of an entire episode despite being the titular character. Comer sleepwalks through the third season only coming alive briefly in the award-bait solo flex for Villanelle and random moments throughout.
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Season Three is lesser Killer Eve with both actresses left stranded by muddled and unfocused writing as well as the unnecessary introduction of superfluous characters and dead-end plots, but it's brilliant compared to the shitshow that was Season Four, the one season that doesn't require a deep dive because it gives me a fucking headache to say any more about it over than fuck Laura Neal. Yet despite the drop-off of Season Three and the catastrophe that was Season Four, at no point in Killing Eve's brilliant rise and graceless fall can the blame be placed on Oh or Comer going through the motions and phoning it in. They TRIED hard. Even in the moments when Jodie seemed checked out, she was still balling hard and acting her ass off. Both were again nominated in the lackluster two seasons for Best Lead Actress in a Drama only to lose to Zendaya for Euphoria in 2021, an outcome that may play out again in 2022 next month at the Emmys. Who cares? Awards are nice little ego strokes for the winners and help them maximize their earnings potential, but they are lousy measuring sticks for what's really exceptional and what's not. Win or lose, Sandra Oh and Jodie Comer remain the saving grace of Killing Eve. Nobody else could have made the magic in quite the way they did.
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charliemwrites · 3 months
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Part 3 for mean!Simon
CW for consensual dom/sub between Simon and Johnny; dubcon interactions with reader and Johnny. Simon is a dick per usual.
When Johnny comes home, the first thing Simon does is set him back to rights. He's been gone a bit, long enough to need a refresher on how things are done. Just in case he's gotten some silly ideas about who calls the shots.
So once he's through the door, squeezed a little "oof" out of you, and stuck his tongue down your throat, Simon hauls him off for a "reintroduction."
Simon gets him off fully-clothed, whining and panting on his boot, before he's satisfied that Johnny's not forgotten any of his manners. He's rewarded by getting to suck Simon's cock unguided for a little while, drooling and moaning and choking himself to tears. It makes such a pretty sight, Simon is almost tempted to save his discipline for another time.
Almost.
"Up."
Johnny's flushed face twists with dismay, but he drags himself away.
"What have I always told you about your toys, hm?"
Cock-drunk, it takes Johnny a moment to understand the question and develop an answer.
"Tha' I hafta earn 'em," Johnny answers, voice ruined.
Simon hums, carding his fingers through Johnny's sweat-soaked hair.
"And to keep 'em?" Simon prompts.
"Take care of 'em."
Such a smart, well-trained boy... mostly.
He yelps as Simon twists his fingers into his mohawk and wrenches his head back, exposing the vulnerable line of his bobbing throat.
"Then you want to explain what the fuck you've been doing with that pretty pussy I got you?"
Johnny's blinks, sputters. But it's obvious he doesn't understand what Simon means or why he's in trouble. Simon sighs in disappointment, knowing that'll just upset Johnny more.
"'S my fault, I s'pose. Thought you were ready." He shakes his head, eases his grip on Johnny's hair. "Thought you knew how to take care of such a nice toy."
He remembers the unmarked skin of your plush thighs, your round ass. Tsks and shakes his head, watching Johnny paw wordlessly, pleadingly, at his pants.
"M'sorry, sir," Johnny whimpers, puffy bottom lip wobbling. "M'sorry, I'll do better."
"Fuckin' right you will," Simon growls, curling a hand around his vulnerable throat. "Because you're not getting her back 'til I've taught you better. Understand?"
Johnny only just bites back a whine. But he sees the way Simon's eyes narrow and quickly nods, leaning into the hand on his throat, body going lax in submission.
"Yessir," he slurs. "Understood."
Simon strokes his thumb over Johnny's pulse, rumbling with approval. "Atta boy. Your first lesson: if you don't mark something as yours, it's free for the taking."
He hauls Johnny up and throws him face down on the bed.
"Let's begin."
--
By the time he's done with Johnny, the sun has gone down and the house smells like food.
It seems you haven't been idle while they've been preoccupied. Dinner is simmering on the stove and you're just finished turning the dishwasher over.
You turn as Johnny enters the kitchen, expression carefully neutral when you notice the slight limp in his step and the new, dark marks on his neck. He comes right up to you, slinging his arms around your waist and burrowing into your hair.
"Missed you, bonnie," he sighs. "Didnae say so earlier in all the excitement."
From the doorway, Simon watches you blink and carefully circle your arms around him in return. But your body stays rigid, slanted ever so slightly away. Would maybe even be leaning back if not for the counter against your spine.
"It's alright, I um... I got it from the kiss," you assure, patting his shoulder.
He nuzzles in a bit and you seem curious, confused. "Everything okay, Johnny?"
"Aye, jus'... LT says I cannae play with you for a while."
Your eyes dart to Simon, going big and nervous when you realize he's observing.
"Ah. W-well... uh, we can worry about that later, right?" you soothe, gently pulling away to look him in the eyes. He's bit sniffly still, even though Simon made sure he was good after "lesson." You just seem to comfort him like a favored stuffy. "Let's get a proper meal in you for now."
Johnny nods, clutching onto yours hand as you lead him around the kitchen. Collecting serving bowls, spoons, ladling out stew in generous portions - at least for two of the servings - all with one free hand.
Johnny is quiet, drowsy. You keep glancing at him, but he only sways into you whenever you stop moving, rubbing his cheek against yours.
"Havnae been takin' care of you right," he mumbles as you're reaching for tumblers from the cabinet. "LT is gonnae teach me better, though."
You freeze, blood draining from your pretty face. Your eyes flick fearfully to Simon, right where you last saw him. He doesn't so much as twitch, staring you down until you visibly swallow and turn away. There's a little tremble to your hand now as you finish getting the glasses.
"That should be... interesting," you manage. "Ready to eat?"
"Aye, m'hungry. Missed your cooking."
You muster up a shaky smile and gently hand him a bowl of stew.
"That's good to hear, Johnny. C'mon, before it gets cold."
You send him off to the dining table. In his absence, you draw in a deep breath. Then pour Simon a glass of bourbon, taking both it, and his bowl of stew to his customary spot at the head of the dinner table.
He stalks from his place in the kitchen doorway, purposefully crossing you at the corner so that you're forced to flatten yourself against the wall and sidestep. While he seats himself, he hears you getting yourself a water, collecting your own bowl.
When you return, you try to sit next to Johnny as usual, who's sat at Simon's right. This way, he acts as a buffer between you two. But Simon clicks his tongue and you pause, turning to him with a curious blink.
"Over here." He gestures to his left side, putting you across from Johnny.
"Oh... um, okay."
You shuffle around to the other side, still shaky as you set your bowl down and take a seat. Simon watches you for a long moment as you studiously avoid his gaze, eyes on your water glass.
"This is your spot from now on. Understood?" he asks.
You tilt your head enough to make it obvious you're answering him. "Yes, sir."
"Look at me when you answer," he corrects.
You twitch a bit, shift uncomfortably as you force your eyes to look at his chest.
"Yes, sir," you repeat, soft and conciliatory."
"Atta girl," he gruffs. "Now fuckin' eat, the both of you."
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irisintheafterglow · 6 months
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One-Shots
Gojo Satoru
You Are In Love - "you're my best friend," and you knew what it was
...Ready For It? - knew he was a killer first time that I saw him
Hits Different - it hits different 'cause it's you (or, struggling in a situationship with gojo satoru)
Never Grow Up - meeting megumi for the first time
The Archer - all of my enemies started out friends, can he hold on to you?
invisible string - the first time megumi uses ten shadows
even in my worst times, you see the best in me - being the strongest has its downsides, but at least you're suffering with him
life's no fun without a good scare - you have the brilliant idea of playing hide and seek in a corn maze against the most powerful sorcerer in the world. should be fun, right?
it's all me, just don't go (meet me in the afterglow) - satoru is jealous but refuses to admit it.
every dead end street led you straight to me - former fuckboy gojo has some things to say at the top of a mountain
i hate accidents, except when we went from friends to this! - coworkers to lovers with a healthy amount of teenage eavesdropping
Geto Suguru
The Great War - somewhere in the haze, got a sense I'd been betrayed
Back to December - you gave him all your love and all he gave you was goodbye
say you'll remember me - you were destined to fail from the start, so why does it hurt so badly when he's gone?
dazzling haze, mysterious way about you, dear - need some fluff after reading all the angst above?
tell me that you love me, love me 'til my lips turn blue - being partnered with suguru on a mission takes an unexpected turn
what if all i need is you? - after failed attempts to find a date to a relative's birthday party, your best friend acts as your fake boyfriend.
Blurbs/Drabbles
the stakes are high, the water's rough, but this love is ours - holding satoru and letting him rest, even if it's only for a little bit
it took so long to know someone like you - he doesn't know who he is with you and it scares both of you
bad days and blanket burritos - good ol' satoru bf fluff
Imagines/HCs
And the touch of a hand lit the fuse
how gojo and geto react to their partner being obsessed with them (fluffy !!!)
Gojo Satoru
What, like it's hard? -> law student!gojo
general hcs
when he buys a motorcycle
I'm with the band -> rockstar!gojo
rockstar!gojo meet sexyy
the valentine's day show
quiet moments and teaching you guitar
Falling for you, on and off the ice -> hockey player!gojo
someone steals your usual rink slot
watching a game
living in winter, i am your summer - he's terrible at figure skating
Kachow -> professional racer!gojo
on the radio
smoke his ass! - pro racer!gojo needs some motivation after a newcomer to the track pisses him off
Geto Suguru
oops? - satoru finds out that you've been seeing his best friend
a quiet moment in the aquarium
napping with you :)
scare actor!suguru
Save a horse, ride a cowboy -> gunslinger!suguru
gunslinger!geto au
Theta Phi Fuckhead -> enemy frat!suguru
ancient grudge, new mutiny
move fast, keep quiet
half the things that haven't happened yet
Series Masterlists
End Game (volleyball captain!gojo x you) COMPLETED
Co-Parenting Megumi with Satoru COMPLETED
I Don't Wanna Live Forever (gojo x you during shibuya) COMPLETED
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ohisms · 10 months
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↪     𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄 , 𝑰'𝑴 𝑨 𝑭𝑬𝑾 - ᶰᵒ ᶠᵃᵐᶤˡʸ ˒ ᵗᵒᵒ . 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑎𝑚 𝑖 ?    (  a  series  of  sentence  starters  from  season  1  of  “ orphan black ” .   adjust  phrasing  as  necessary . will be updated !  )
i wanna see [ name ] .
well , that's not fair , is it ?!
oh my god , you look like crap .
i didn't miss your birthday , did i ?
something really weird just happened at the train station .
what the hell is wrong with you ?
listen to me , [ name ] , i'm only gonna ask you this once .
oh , i'm fine by the way , thank you .
get in the car .
when you don't give a damn , i get pissed .
you'd better be ready . are you ready ?
you're sure as hell overdressed . what , were you out all night or something ?
this shit is as hard as it gets . but you've gotta stop making it worse .
i panicked , what do you want me to say ?
i'm kidding . where's your wit gone ?
you don't have to babysit me , dipshit .
i know this thing's got you all twisted up , but try to forgive yourself .
[ name ] , open the goddamn door !
yeah , the last thing i am is special .
[ name ] , where have you been ?
where have i been ? uh .. long story .
oh , jesus , are you alright ?
you have a few words , [ name ] ? anything you want to express ?
plead your mercy & your pity .
love is imperfection itself .
say it . go ahead , say it's my fault .
who the hell are you ?
of course not . you think we'd let that happen ?
i'm at home , you've got it all wrong .
you know what ? don't . i'm going to ignore that .
i'm worried you're losing the plot again .
sorry , i've got ... i've got a lot of work to do .
i mean , what am i supposed to do ?
you don't have to take this on .
i can't keep waking up every night , checking your breathing , worried you're mixing your meds , booze ... god knows what else .
i knew it was too good to be true .
why would you help such a stupid plan ?
i'm not going to play [ name ] in the middle .
i'm not dirty , i just freaked out .
if there is another version of this story ...
walk me through it again . so i know you won't crack under questioning .
you're making me nervous .
finally ! where have you been ?
who am i speaking to ?
how did you find me ?
idiot . do you even know who you're talking to ?
i don't care who you are .
nope , that is not my responsibility .
go , & wait for a call .
what i'm trying to do is move on .
we have known each other for awhile now , [ name ] .
i nailed it , man . every detail .
come on , [ name ] , give me a little love here !
you know , my skin just breaks out every time i leave downtown .
whoa , hey , [ name ] - you always do this to me !
i don't do backup , i don't even know what backup is !
i got stuck , i was running from my own shit .
i'm not giving you shit 'til you give me some answers .
don't ! do not shoot me , please !
seriously , it's life or death .
am i going insane ?
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multifanhoe99 · 6 months
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Kinktober Day 16- Toys
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Pairing: Sunghoon x Fem!Reader
Warnings: mean dom!Sunghoon, daddy kink, nicknames (baby girl, baby, slut, whore, little girl), overstimulation, tying up with rope, unprotected sex, creampie.
=Let me know if I missed any.=
18+ MDNI
PROMPT LIST
MASTERLIST
You have really done it this time. You pushed him over the edge and knew there was no going back. You were going to have to deal with the consequences of your actions. Your boyfriend, Sunghoon, was sweet and kind but, when things got more intimate between you two he was very commanding, and dominant. You were not upset with this, in fact you enjoyed it very much. So much that you often like to tease him to get him in that mood. You enjoyed his funishments but, sometimes you would push too far and instead of a funishment you would get a real punishment. Today, while he was at the studio, you had decided to tease him.
You sent him pictures of yourself in the lingerie set you knew was his favorite. Each picture had a text after it that said something along the lines of I'm so lonely Daddy and I don't know if I can wait til you get home. You kept sending him these pictures and even a couple videos until he responded. Oh, baby girl, you've been so bad today. I am at the studio and it is very difficult to hide my phone from the others. I think Jay saw it. You better be a good little slut for Daddy when I get home after your punishment that is. Be ready and wait for me on the bed when I get home. Oh yeah, you had definitely gone too far this time. You did as he asked stripping yourself of the lingerie and sitting on the bed. Luckily, you knew that meant he'd be home soon if he told you to wait for him without saying when he'd be home.
Not too long after, you heard the front door open and close. Then, there was the sound of him walking down the hall to your shared room. You were shivering with the anticipation of what he had planned for you. When Sunghoon finally reached the room, he stopped in the doorway to stare at you. Then, he spoke, "Awe, look at you trying to be a good little girl now. Thank you for obeying me, baby but, that doesn't mean you aren't going to be punished for being a bad girl."
His voice was low and sexy. It was much different than anything you have heard before and you loved it. He made his way towards the closet where you kept your toys hidden. He pulled out the rope and your magic wand vibrator. You knew what he had in mind now and it was your least favorite punishment. This means he meant to overstimulate you. He walked over to you grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him before whispering in your ear, "Do you like being a bad girl? You like what I do to you huh? You're such a little whore for Daddy's cock aren't you kitten?"
"Ye-yes," you replied.
His eyes darkened even more, "Yes, what?"
"Y-y-yes Daddy," you stuttered. With a smirk, he let go of your face.
"Good girl," he said, "Now, lay down for me." You did as you were told and laid down on the bed. He got to work tying you so you weren't able to move your arms or legs much. When he was sure you were nice and secure Sunghoon grabbed the magic wand and turned it on.
"You were so horny for me today that you had to tease me and Jay saw you being a little slut for me," he said, "I want you to count how many times you cum baby and if you do good maybe I will give you my cock like you wanted." He moved the toy so that it was perfectly on your clit. He had it on the lowest setting but it still felt good. It was just not enough you wanted more. You unfortunately were not in a position to ask for more though. The vibrations felt amazing as it buzzed dully against your clit. Eventually, you were finally able to cum from the minimal pressure.
"One," you said slightly out of breath. He kept the toy on your clit but, turned up the setting by two notches. It was buzzing faster now and felt incredible. Even more so because you had already cum once.
Soon, you came again shouting out a loud, "Two!" You were only two orgasms in but, it was starting to get hard to think and breathe. He kept going and turned it up two more settings. This kept going until it was on the highest setting it could go. You were basically screaming at this point. You had tears and drool running down your face and you barely remembered what number you were on.
You came again with a scream, "Sssssss-six!"
He turned off the vibrator and threw it to the side. Then, he said, "You think you can do one more for me, baby?" You nod in response.
He lined himself up with your soaked entrance and began fucking into you at a rapid pace. You didn't even notice in your haze exactly when he removed his clothes. Everything felt so good and in no time you were cumming again.
"That's it, baby. Cum all over Daddy's cock like a good little slut. Do you want me to fill up this pretty little pussy with my cum," he said. You could tell he was also very close. You spouted incoherent nonsense hoping he'd understand what you meant. He did because the next thing you knew he was cumming deep inside of you. He then spent a long time removing your restraints, cleaning you up, and giving you any aftercare you needed. After all that was done, Sunghoon pulled you under the covers to cuddle with him.
Then, he asked softly, "I wasn't too rough was I?"
You replied, "No, not at all. I think I will have to tease you like that more often now."
He laughs while shaking his head, "I love you (Y/N)."
"I love you too," was the last thing you said before falling asleep in his arms.
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A/N: A long time ago I used to be an admin for another K-pop fanfic blog. This story is a re-write of a story I had written for that blog so if it seems familiar or if you ever come across the original story (it was about Jungkook) just know that I am not stealing any work. That writer and myself are indeed the same person.
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writerscall · 6 months
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bruises.
spiderwoman!hazel au. she's known about hazel's little secret for a while now and she's done giving her excuses a free pass.
author's note/s: 1.2k words. trigger warning for talk of injuries, switched to the use of 'you' here for reader cause third person wasn't working for me
It's routine for you to replenish the contents of the first-aid kit in your bedside table's drawer now. You even keep one in your locker and have had many silent debates with yourself on keeping a small one in your bag, just in case. For the past four months, Hazel Callahan has been climbing up to your window to ask for your help with treating a bruise or two. Because of that new women's self-defense club - the "fight club" that started up at school, she said.
Which was incidentally formed about a week after the first news headline came out about some masked vigilante swinging around the city. Fighting crime and saving civilians and beating up bad guys and all that.
Now coincidental rather than incidental for you though, since the day you saw Hazel rushing into her house then saw the infamous Spiderwoman spring out of her bedroom window mere seconds later. You were stunned, but it wasn't hard for you to connect the dots. Your already had your suspicions about some of the bruises Hazel supposedly got from her club; you doubt any of the girls there could actually land a hit that could damage her that badly.
But it's not an easy thing to bring up or just ask about, so you've kept quiet about it. Until that night, however.
You're half-asleep when you hears the incessant knocking at her window. You try not to groan as you throw back the covers and get up, knowing exactly who it is, but whatever irritation you have is gone once you see Hazel's face in the moonlight.
"Jesus Christ," you mutter as you pull her inside, hurriedly moving across the room to switch the light on. "Are you okay?"
"Pretty sure I've been better." Hazel smiles, actually smiles with that joke. But you can only sigh at her in response. Hazel literally looked like she got her face smashed into a wall or to the ground repeatedly - considering the people and things you've seen her fight against, that might've been what happened. There was a bruise along her jawline that you were sure you wouldn't be able to help cover up with make-up the next day and a cut on her forehead where a previous one just healed.
"Let me guess. It's from fight club again?" You manage not to make air quotations at 'fight club' but can't help the disbelieving tone when you say it. There's no way she expects you to believe that.
But as usual, she does. "I was just caught off guard cause we were practicing 'til late at night today and... and I was tired, cause you know, we had a whole day of school earlier and," Hazel stumbles out. The tone you used clearly got to her. "And when I fell it was to the ground and not the mat cause Sylvie got in a really, really good punch. You should've seen it actually."
You say nothing as you let her sit on the side of your bed and take the first-aid kit out, still quiet as you start wiping her face gently. She watches you intently, mouth opening and closing a few times before finally saying, "Don't be so worried. It's not the first time you've seen me like this and I'm always fine after."
"Yeah, sure." Until it happens again, you want to add. You get up to throw the wipes and tissues away and you can feel her eyes on you with every step. Hazel's never been good at dealing with friends being angry with her; you knew how sensitive she could be, which was why you were always quick to reassure her whenever it seemed like she was taking something to heart. It's why you've been patient for so long with her keeping the whole Spiderwoman thing a secret, but you didn't know how much longer you could take seeing her all beaten up and hear one lie after the other on how she supposedly got them.
"Please don't be mad—"
"When are you going to stop lying to me?"
Something shifts in the air at your question. You don't have to look at her to know how her eyes have widened and how her mouth was probably hanging open in shock, or how her mind was definitely racing at what you could possibly be talking about. Even though deep down, she knew.
You turn back around, sighing. "I know, Hazel. About your secret web-slinging life."
Hazel sits up straighter at your admission then stands up abruptly to pace the room, a panicked look on her face. "When did you— how did you even—"
"Does it matter? Why didn't you tell me?" You walk towards her and grab her by the arms, forcing her to stop. "You know you can trust me. I would never, ever tell anyone."
"That's not the point!" She shakes out of your grasp. "That's not the point," she repeats in a softer voice, continuing with, "You can't know. Nobody can because anybody who knows gets put in danger, and they'll come after you eventually to get to me, and I can't let that happen. Not to you, not to my mom, not to any of the girls in fight club. Especially not to you."
Your chest tightens at that. Quietly, you ask, "Why?"
There's a resigned, expectant look on her face when she says, "You know why."
And you do. The two of you have always been great friends but there's always been something else there, something a little more that neither of you were brave enough to acknowledge in fear of ruining what you had. You'd be lying if you said you never noticed the drop in her energy and expression every time you so much as made a passing comment that one of your classmates was cute, and you'd also be lying if you said you never thought anything about the weird feeling you got in your stomach when you saw how much closer she and Stella-Rebecca have gotten since joining the fight club together.
"I need you safe," Hazel says after a moment.
"You'll keep me safe. You'll protect me." You walk towards her again, reaching out to hold her roughed-up face in your hands. Almost instinctively, Hazel leans her cheek into your left palm. "I know you will because you would've done it whether I knew your secret or not. Because you're a good person and a fantastic superhero, Hazel."
Hazel just looks at you for a moment, clearly having some internal argument with herself, before she surges forward to kiss you. You press your lips firmly against hers, kissing her back soundly in case she'd panic and pull away too soon. But Hazel only pulls you in closer, a relieved sigh escaping her as she tilts her head to the side for a different angle.
If a kiss between the two of you was ever going to happen, then it was bound to be in some big reveal moment like this.
Reluctantly, you push her away after a moment because you couldn't let her or yourself get carried away; that first-aid couldn't be put away just yet, plus, your parents might've been dead asleep but they were still home. Both of you would have to put a raincheck on... whatever could've come next.
"Can I stay over tonight?" Hazel asks breathlessly, still eyeing your lips. You smile at her fondly and let out a chuckle, pushing her bangs away from her face.
"Yeah. I still need to fix up that cute face of yours, you know."
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colins-bridgerton · 2 months
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penelope & colin playlist
a year ago by james arthur
i wish it was a year ago i wish that i could hold you close now i'm driving past your house, i know the lights are on, you're not alone i wonder if you're making eyes i wonder if he loves you like the way you said that only i could do i wish that i could tell you that I miss you
ghost of you by seconds of summer
too young, too dumb to know things like love too young, too dumb to I drown it out like I always do dancing through our house with the ghost of you and i chase it down with a shot of truth that my feet don't dance like they did with you
far away by nickleback
i wanted you to stay 'cause i needed i need to hear you say that i love you i loved you all along and I forgive you for being away for far too long so keep breathing 'cause i'm not leaving you anymore believe it hold on to me, and never let me go
oceans by seafret
it feels like there's oceans between you and me once again we hide our emotions Under the surface and try to pretend but it feels like there's oceans between you and me i want you i want you and i always will it feels like there's oceans between you and me
give me a minute by the coronas
and i can't remember how we got so wrapped up in it hold on i'm not finished just give me a minute i'm not finished and if you don't mind i can live with it just a minute i'm not finished would you be so kind just to forgive it
can i be him by james arthur
i heard there was someone but i know he don't deserve you if you were mine i'd never let anyone hurt you no no I wanna dry those tears, kiss those lips It's all that I've been thinking about 'cause a light came on when i heard that song and i want you to sing it again i swear that every word you sing you wrote them for me like it was a private show
before by ulrik munther
before we burn each other up before we lose our minds before i'm not enough for you baby I need some time before you break my heart oh before we need to talk before it even starts i mean i'm sorry i didn't call
you're loosing me by taylor swift
how long could we be a sad song 'til we were too far gone to bring back to life? i gave you all my best me's, my endless empathy and all i did was bleed as i tried to be the bravest soldier fighting in only your army, frontlines, don't you ignore me i'm the best thing at this party (you're losin' me) andi wouldn't marry me either a pathological people pleaser who only wanted you to see her and i'm fadin', thinkin' "do something, babe, say something" (say something) "lose something, babe, risk something" (you're losin' me) "choose something, babe, i got nothing" (i got nothing) "to believe, unless you're choosin' me"
deep end by birdy
i don't know if you mean everything to me and I wonder, can i give you what you need? don't want to find i've lost it all too scared to have no one to call so can we just pretend that we're not falling into the deep end?
love me or leave me by little mix
and love me baby please cause i could still be the only one you need the only one close enough to feel you breathe yeah I could still be that place where you run Instead of the one that you're running from, ooh you, can take this heart heal it or break it all apart no, this isn't fair love me or leave me here
cross your mind by calum scott
tell me, do i ever cross your mind? do i ever keep you up at night? thinking 'bout what coulda been if we did it all again i've been trying to keep an open door even though you've got the locks on yours tell me even after all of this time do i ever cross your mind like you cross mine? do i?
wrong direction by hailee steinfeld
loved me with your worst intentions didn't even stop to question every time you burned me down don't know how; for a moment it felt like heaven loved me with your worst intentions painted us a happy ending every time you burned me down don't know how; for a moment it felt like heaven and it's so gut-wrenchin' fallin' in the wrong direction
loves you like i coudn't do by dunacan laurence
i hope you find that someone who'll love you and it feels like all that you wanted thought it would last if we just kept running we played our hand, now we're left with nothing hope you find that someone who'll hold you In a way that i always wanted to a hundred shots, but we kept on missing there's no regrets, 'cause we tried, my love I hope you find that someone who loves you like i couldn't do
a little bit yours by jp saxe
you found someone new, before me and you didn't try nearly as hard and maybe that's the problem i don't know how to take it away from you without giving someone else my heart all I do Is get over you and i'm still so bad at it i let myself want you i let myself try i let myself fall back into your eyes i let myself want you i let myself hope i let myself feel things i know that you don't you're not mine anymore but I'm still a little bit yours
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howifeltabouthim · 1 year
Quote
I knew not how passionately I loved you, until you became the wife of another . . . I love you passionately still.
Ellen Wood, from East Lynne
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mcflymemes · 1 year
Text
MISCELLANEOUS SENTENCE PROMPTS *  collection #4
we'll be fine.
anything interesting?
so what's the plan?
people who stay put don't have interesting stories to tell.
are there any places you'd like to visit?
i'll make us both a cup.
i think you've been reading too many comic books.
i can only tolerate so much time spent with you.
you handle my bad jokes better than anyone.
i stick out like a sore thumb.
you've got a whole band of idiots downstairs just waiting to catch you.
i've heard a lot about you.
well, this is awkward.
i don't fucking care.
you startled me.
at least this means we can help each other out.
if they catch us here, we're in trouble.
the coast is clear.
are you feeling ill? this isn't like you.
you know it's only getting worse, right?
have you heard of them?
this complicates things.
maybe something good can come of this.
can we try?
you can find a better place than that.
what's the coffee like here?
i suppose i should take it as a compliment.
are you safe? you look tired.
i don't have time to be shy about this.
i just need to get out.
i'm not mad!
you have to know someone. anyone. i need help here.
that's a lovely way to meet someone.
not to sound cheesy or anything, but that's the truth.
life is just better with them in it.
i'm here to keep you company.
i don't mind walking.
i can assure you there's nothing to be concerned about.
what have you been up to since i saw you last?
i assume someone died.
don't even think about it.
why didn't i think of that?
they're gone. you should go.
you order first. i'll pay.
i deal with this shit all the time. i'm used to it.
it's all going to be okay.
how's the head?
if you're not interested... you're not interested.
are you sure you have the right name?
i don't mean to be nosy, i'm just concerned.
i just want you to be happy.
we could do dinner.
drinks are on me after this.
you have every right to be concerned.
i'm in love with you.
we're in this 'til the end.
don't let your comfort zone restrict you from pursuing something special.
you have my word.
what do you say? truce?
i didn't know you were here.
can't say i'm aware of them.
i could try and do a bit of digging myself.
i know you'll leave soon.
i've missed you.
whatever happens, i'm in your corner.
who gave you this job?
you gave me quite a shock.
if you need backup, i make great backup.
i was born with these powers.
what the hell was all of that, anyway?
i can leave, if you want me to.
please say something.
why would i ever ask you to leave?
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bleach-your-panties · 3 months
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babe! H, J, & K for Kuroo and Bokuto please!!! I have a need and I am dying 🫣
This is so fun, thank you in advance!
You fed me with this, because I missed my man Bokuto!🤍🖤💛
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❥⋱Koutarou Bokuto:
❥⋱H - Hickey: Nibble nibble nibble… how big or little, the redness, where it is, etc
Bokuto loves giving you hickeys and he highly encourages you to give him hickeys as well! He wants everyone to know that he’s a happily taken man with a very healthy sex life 🤭
He loves to leave hickeys on your neck- trailing from your neck down your collarbone and down your shoulder. They vary in shape/size because he's constantly changing the tempo of his kisses, bites, and sucks. They will all be a bright to deep red, though, because he suckles on your skin like he's trying to eat it.
When he returns to his team after a heated night with you, he’ll intentionally walk around in just gym shorts and a wife beater so they all can see all the marks, hickeys, and nail indents that you've left on him!
❥⋱J - Jamz: Slow Jamz to be exact. What song does he like to get it on to?
Sweet Love - Chris Brown
“Oh, baby, let’s get naked, just so we can make sweet love
All these sensations got me goin' crazy for ya
Inside on top of you, grindin' inside and out of you
Baby, I know what to do, baby, I know what to do
So come on, baby girl, let's just take our clothes off
Just so we can make sweet love
----
----
G-Girl, you shy you wanna slow it down? (Down)
And you start screamin' when I go downtown (Ow!)
Just as long as you get crazy
And baby, don't get it confused
I'll do everythin' you want me to
And just as soon as you get naked, makin' love
Planez - Jeremih ft. J Cole
“I can put you in the mile-high club, what’s up? Let's take a trip,
Have you ever read “the world is yours”, on a blimp?”
----
“I got you in the air, your body in the air - how it feel up here?
You can scream as loud as you want, loud as you can, ain't nobody gone hear”
----
“Oh you nasty, oh oh, you nasty
Both graduated, so fuck keeping it classy”
❥⋱K - Kiss: Get those lips ready! Smooches 💋
He is an overzealous kisser sometimes, and he gets messy with a lot of spit - so much that it’ll be dribbling down the sides of your connected mouths. It’s only because he’s away often traveling for games and he misses you so much! Not being able to kiss and taste you for so many months at a time makes him sad.
Once he’s home, though, he’ll calm down and kiss you softly - all over your body. Like I said, he misses you. 
His lips suckle on your skin very gently. A stark contrast to his hornier, more urgent actions. He also likes to lick and flick his tongue over your skin while kissing it.
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❥⋱Tetsurou Kuroo
❥⋱H - Hickey: Nibble nibble nibble… how big or little, the redness, where it is, etc
Now, you would think that he would be more open about giving hickies, but it actually makes him kind of shy.
Don’t get me wrong, he’s still a little shit, but even he makes himself blush when he sees how overexcited he got in the bedroom last night once you’re getting ready for work in the morning and trying to cover up the marks on your neck with makeup.
The size of his hickies will vary depending on what type of mood he’s in. Pent-up? Large, bruise-like marks with uneven edges and a deep mauve color in the center. He’s feeling good that day? Medium to large, with less suction behind them but they might have teeth marks around the edges.
He’ll suck hickies into your titties as well, and lick over the nipples before raising his head to give you a mischievous grin.
❥⋱J - Jamz: Slow Jamz to be exact. What song does he like to get it on to?
Grind On Me - Pretty Ricky
“Baby, grind on me; relax your mind, take your time on me,
Let me get deeper, shawty ride on me.
Now come and sex me til your body gets so weak, with slow grindin’ baby”
—-
“I make em’ laugh and giggle, cuddle a little, suck on the nipple, lick the whipped cream from the middle,
Girlfriend I never go (raw), I rip off panties and I pop off (bras)
—-
“Pretty boy doin’ pretty good thangs, makin’ pretty good change
Gettin’ pretty good brain, from the pretty pretty chicks, gettin’ pretty damn rich
—-
“If loving you is wrong, then I don't wanna be right, so let's take our time and do it right, cause we got all night”
Meeting In My Bedroom - Silk
“There’s a meeting in my bedroom, so girl please don’t be late
There’s a meeting in my bedroom, so please don’t make me wait
----
Looking at my Rollie, girl, I see it's almost time
I hope you're getting ready girl and don't forget the wine
How long 'til Monday, girl?
Tonight is just for you and I
And it's gonna be so fly (so fly, so fly, what what, what)
I like having you around so I gotta put you down
So be there or be square
----
Step into mi casa, lay it down, down, down, down
(Come on yeah baby, yeah yeah yeah)
Got a little sumthing sumthing for my sexy mama, mama
Been checking for ya since day one
You're my moon and you're my sun
(You're my star, you shine, yeah)
----
❥⋱K - Kiss: Get those lips ready! Smooches 💋
He is a very, very, very good kisser. Playful. Just like a cat.
He’ll suck your bottom lip into his mouth and hold it before pulling back to stare at you, trying to make those golden brown eyes look as innocent as possible.
Loves to suck on your tongue and the sides of your mouth. His kisses will make you wet and leave you breathless.
When you fall asleep after a night full of passionate love-making with him, he’ll caress and kiss your back and shoulders.
----
valentine a-z © bleach-your-panties 2024. do not steal, repost, or upload my shit to tiktok! comments appreciated. reblogs always welcome.
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lastparty · 10 months
Text
i miss when songs were regularly longer than 3 minutes and 30 seconds... you really don't know what you've got 'til it's gone...
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wheels-of-despair · 5 months
Text
The First Lazy Thanksgiving Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: Eddie comes to stay with Evil Woman during Thanksgiving Break '85 for a lazy and turkey-filled few days... but do holiday plans ever actually turn out the way they're supposed to? Contains: Lazy plans gone awry, unscheduled visits from unwanted family, food prep, stolen moments, fast-forwarding through stressful things because it's my story and I can, cunty relatives, smokin' the reefer, a proposal, leftovers, lots of time spent with Team Evil Woman. (If you're not into the family fics, I won't hold it against you.) Words: 7.8k
Note: This one goes out to everyone who'd rather be spending today with Eddie.
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"What's your favorite Thanksgiving food?"
Eddie looks over at you without missing a note in the song he's practicing in his chair. You're lying on your side on his bed, one hand propping up your head and the other still on the book you've abandoned in favor of watching him play Other Sweetheart.
He shrugs and looks back down at his flying fingers. "All tastes the same to me."
"What." It doesn't come out as a question, because it is an outrage. You know that Wayne works so much overtime during the holidays, he doesn't even bother coming home, and that the Munsons aren't big on family meals… but has no one ever invited him over for Thanksgiving dinner? Even for a round of leftovers? Or sent him a plate?!
"We usually grab a few Thanksgiving-y TV dinners for when he gets off work." Eddie holds his guitar upright and plays a more complicated tune to downplay his explanation.
You feel guilty for leaving him alone last year. You'd only been with him for a few months, but you'd gone back to the place you'd just escaped from to spend another stuffy Thanksgiving with your family. That's what he did while you were away? Ate a tasteless TV dinner?
"No, wait," he says quickly, "Jeff's mom made him bring me a plate last year. Stuffing was the best."
You try to mask the pity on your face, but he notices. His eyes turn to steel.
"I'm not a charity case. The Munsons don't need to celebrate meaningless shit whenever The Man tells them to." This sounds a little rehearsed. He holds your gaze, but his face soon softens. "Don't go gettin' all mushy on me, woman."
"How dare you. This cold black heart does not get mushy," you insist. He raises an eyebrow. He knows better. "Unless there are pictures of really cute baby animals," you continue. "But you tell anybody that, and this'll be your last Thanksgiving, Munson." You point a finger at him in warning.
He snorts and looks back to his guitar, starting a new song.
"I was merely doing as my mother instructed," you explain, rolling onto your back and looking up at his ceiling. "Because you're coming to Lazy Thanksgiving, and she wanted to make sure we had plenty of your favorite." You pause, waiting for his curiosity to get the better of him. He stops playing. You've got him.
"…what's Lazy Thanksgiving?"
You smirk. "It's is our first Thanksgiving without all of my annoying-ass relatives, so we're doing it OUR way, all week long. Which means food we actually like, people we actually like, and pajamas all damn day. Just like we've always dreamed of. So pack your best sweats, Munson, 'cause you're staying with us 'til Wayne's off doubles."
You glance over to check for a response.
"Is that an invitation or an order?" He's fighting a smile. He's coming.
"That's up to you, babe." You bat your eyelashes at him.
He rolls his eyes, sets his guitar aside, and crosses the room to crawl on top of you. His chin rests in the valley between your breasts, and you reach up to brush his hair out of his face.
"You really want me?"
"Like right now, or over Thanksgiving break?" you tease. Before his lips can even form a pout, you continue, "'Cause the answer to both is a definite yes."
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There was only half a day of school on Tuesday, but it felt like longer than usual. You wanted to be OUT of there.
The groceries were bought, the turkey was thawing, your family was hours away, and Eddie was coming to stay for several days. It really was the Thanksgiving you'd always dreamed of. There would be no awkward catch-ups, no uncomfortable clothes, no arguments or hostility, and no weird dishes with undesirable or un-pronounceable ingredients. You couldn't wait.
You and Eddie were out of your seats and on the way to your shared locker before the final bell of the day finished ringing. You shoved all the crap you wouldn't need into the metal prison - rescuing Eddie's discarded history notebook with the intention of making him study, which earned you a whine - and slammed the door shut.
He hooked his arm around your neck and marched you through the hall and out the doors, where you took your first breath of free air.
No school for a week. Just what the doctor ordered.
You climbed into the van's passenger seat and waited for the rest of the boys to show up. On today's menu was band practice - in lieu of their usual Hideout gig, which had been called on account of the owner not wanting to scare off the home-for-the-holidays crowd with teenage metal - then breaking for family stuff 'til a special Hellfire session on Saturday. Other than that, everybody was on their own.
The boys chattered about their plans for the week until the van jerked to a stop in your driveway, and everyone piled out and headed into the garage. You went into the kitchen, to see what kind of snacks you could dig out. Nevermind that they'd just eaten lunch half an hour ago; you cannot practice metal without fuel. It's against the law. (According to Gareth, anyway, who would make a terrible lawyer.)
The look on your mother's face stopped you in your tracks.
She was holding the phone in a white-knuckle grip. Eyes narrowed. You could practically see the steam coming out of her ears.
What have you done? You quickly scan a week's worth of Hawkins High shenanigans, but can't think of any mischief that would warrant a call home for you. Your brother, either. What the fuck?
She gestures for you to close the door, and you do… definitely not thinking about stepping on the other side of it before you do so.
"Alright. See you soon," she says through gritted teeth. She stands to hang up the phone on the kitchen wall, then knocks her head against it. You're still frozen to the spot.
Finally, she removes her head from the wall and turns to you. "Get your brother in here."
You reach for the door handle, point to Gareth, and crook your finger in a 'come here' motion. He comes in, stands next to you, and waits.
"Your grandparents have decided to grace us with their presence."
You both groan.
"They'll be here by dinnertime."
"Tonight?!" you both shriek.
"It's only for a day. They want to be back home in time for the real family Thanksgiving."
"So we're upending everything we've planned to accommodate them?" You can feel the rage swirling inside you.
She closes her eyes and pinches the bridge of her nose. "I've gotta make a new grocery list, if there's even anything left at the store, find the recipe for that stupid pie, make something for dinner tonight, get that turkey thawed a day early, clean, drive my car into the quarry…"
"We can handle dinner and cleaning," you say at the same time Gareth asks, "Why do you need a new grocery list?"
"Can you imagine your grandmother's face if she found out I served her a dinner roll I didn't make from scratch?"
"She'll live." You roll your eyes.
"And she doesn't, that's one less thing we have to wor…" Gareth clears his throat, and you try not to smirk.
"Go practice, it's the last fun you'll have 'til they're gone."
He turns on his heel at her suggestion and disappears into the garage.
"Where do you want me, Coach?"
"Help me with this damn grocery list."
You made a list of all the foods you thought you were leaving behind, flipped through recipe cards until you found the things your grandparents expected, and checked the cabinets to see what you already had. So long, Lazy Thanksgiving. You were a nice thought.
When the page-long list was complete, your mother set off to the grocery store. Again.
You hid all the food your grandparents would disapprove of, then dug through the freezer and found pizza rolls for the boys and a forgotten lasagna for dinner. You popped the pizza rolls in the oven and tidied the kitchen to the sounds of Corroded Coffin. Possibly the last decent music you'd hear for the next 24 hours. Your grandparents would probably call for an exorcist if they saw your tape collection.
Your head was buried in a bottom cabinet when the oven timer dinged, catching you by surprise and making you bump your head. You back out on your hands and knees and grumble, rubbing your sore spot, when you feel a burst of hot air.
"Watch it, hot stuff." Eddie grins, pulling the pan of pizza rolls from the oven with a potholder shaped like a turkey.
You stand and lean against the counter, exhausted already.
"Told the jackals they couldn't eat 'til they cleaned the garage," he grins proudly.
"Thank you." You hadn't even thought about having to clean the garage.
"You want me to stick around, or just get lost 'til the coast is clear?"
"What?" You look up in confusion.
"I mean…" he gestures to his clothes and flips the end of his hair. He's a little sweaty and his hair's a little tangled, but you don't know what he's getting at… oh.
"You think we're uninviting you?"
"I'm not exactly grandparent material." He forces out an awkward chuckle that makes your heart sink. You step forward and wrap your arms around his middle, pulling him close.
"You're not going anywhere unless you take me with you." You nuzzle your face into his chest, and he gives you a squeeze. "And I'm pretty sure I'm not allowed to go anywhere unless I take Mom with me. Wait." You pull back, wide-eyed, and ask, "Can we all just hide out at your place until the old people give up and go away?"
"I wish," your mother grumbles, back from her grocery run. She drops a load of bags on the table, and the boys follow with more.
"Okay," she says, scanning the room. "Kitchen looks good. Garage looks good. Did you find something for dinner?"
"A frozen lasagna from your meal prep era."
"Okay. We have three hours to clean. Then I need you in a dress."
You groan, and Gareth snickers.
"And YOU," she turns to him, "in khakis." That wipes the grin off his face.
"Eddie?"
"Yes, ma'am?"
"You are absolutely still invited. But if you want to run and hide, we will not think less of you." He smiles. "Do you own a pair of pants without holes in them?" He nods. "Okay." And then she starts putting groceries away, and that was that.
You catch Eddie's eye, then nod to the pan of now-edible pizza rolls. He picks it up and leads the boys back outside, where they descend on it like locusts, while you tackle the mountain of groceries.
When Eddie returns with the empty pan, he addresses your mother.
"I'm gonna go drop Jeff and Grant off. Are you sure you…" he trails off nervously, hovering near the door.
"Honey." Your mom places her hands on the table, leans forward, and stares into his soul. "I want you here more than I want them here."
He chuckles. " I'll go home and grab some clothes. Do you need me to pick up anything else?"
"Nope, I think we've got everything," she answers. "But I appreciate the offer."
He nods, gives you wink, and leaves to take the nerds home.
Your family whirls through the house like cyclones, dusting and scrubbing and straightening everything in view. Eddie joins in when he returns, which makes things move even faster.
The house is deemed acceptable with an hour to spare. You pop the lasagna into the oven, take rushed showers, and change into clothing acceptable to grandparents.
"Woah," Eddie says when he steps back into your room with dripping hair and a towel around his waist, seeing you in your modest (hideous) dress.
"Shut up."
"You never wear pretty things like that for me," he teases.
"Keep it up, Munson, and you're gonna be feasting on one of these stupid fucking shoulder pads."
He cackles and throws his towel at you. You catch it, and get a delightful idea when he turns around to get dressed.
You wind up the damp towel, and when he bends over to pull his boxers on… SNAP.
He yelps, jumps a foot in the air, and grabs his ass with both hands.
"YOU'RE THE DEVIL!"
You howl with laughter. Was it mean? Yes. Was it funny? Yes. Did he deserve it? Also yes.
"Look what you did to me!" he shrieks, rubbing at a red welt rising on his pale ass.
Your jaw drops.
"Oh fuck, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get you THAT bad." All traces of amusement are gone as you go to him and trace the mark.
"Guess you could always kiss it and make it better," he pouts, sticking his lip out and activating the dreaded Puppy Eyes.
You fall to your knees and plant a trail of light kisses around the raised mark on Eddie Munson's ass. When you look up, he's staring at you with wide eyes, like he hadn't really expected you to do it.
"What? Never had a girl kiss your ass before?"
You both dissolve into a fit of giggles until a knock interrupts.
"Are you decent?"
"Never," you answer together, grinning at each other.
You can hear your mother sigh through the door. You stand, and Eddie hastily continues getting dressed.
"Eddie, I need you to sleep in Gareth's room tonight. He's setting up his sleeping bag for you."
"Okay," he agrees.
"Best behavior."
"Yes, ma'am," Eddie says.
"I wasn't talking to you."
Eddie snorts.
"Yes, Mother," you call, giving him a shove. He loses his balance and falls onto your bed with a grin.
"Alright." She raps her knuckles against the door once more and walks away.
Eddie's lying back on your bed, feet on the floor and hands laced behind his head. He's in a plain white t-shirt and dark, unbuttoned jeans that reveal his plaid boxers… and just a liiittle bit of his happy trail. He smirks when he sees you looking.
"Quit dripping on my bed." You pick up his discarded towel and throw it at him, letting it hit him in the face. He sits up, unbothered, to rub his wet hair with it. At least he didn't shake it out like a dog. (Although you have seen him do that before.)
You give your room a once-over, straightening a few books and smoothing out the blankets on your bed. Eddie stuffs his things into a duffel bag and drops it on the floor of your brother's room, where he'll be sleeping tonight.
The plan had actually been for the three of you to camp out in the living room and watch movies all night, but that would have to wait. Your grandmother would probably pitch a fit about Eddie being allowed to sleep under the same roof as you. You'd love to see her face if she found out you'd slept in the same bed before.
You hear the oven timer ding again; dinner is ready. They'll be here soon. You get up to go set the table, but decide you want just one more minute alone with Eddie before the invasion. You go in for a hug and stand still in the middle of your bedroom, just enjoying the quiet.
"Should I button this?" he mumbles when you pull away, looking down at his flannel shirt and then back at you.
"Up to you. You'll look nice either way."
He bites his lip and pulls his shirt together, fingers fumbling. He gets three buttons done before realizing it's crooked. His face starts to turn red from frustration.
You put your hands on his, then move them to his sides. You calmly unbutton, and then re-button his shirt, straightening out his collar when you finish for good measure.
"Should I tuck it in?"
"Edward." You take his face in your hands. "You look perfect. Stop worrying. It's gonna be fine." You kiss the tip of his nose.
"What if they hate me?" he asks, his big brown eyes boring into your soul.
"Babe…" you begin gently, brushing his hair out of his face. "They will. But that's okay. Because I think they kinda hate me too. Smile, nod, don't mention anything fun or cool, and you'll survive. And next time I get you to myself, I will make this worth your while."
"Really?" he grins.
"Really." You lean in for a kiss… which is interrupted by the sound of a car horn honking twice. You groan. Gareth walks by your door, in his khakis and button-down, and announces: "They're heeere."
You peel yourselves apart. You straighten your stupid dress in the mirror, and Eddie rakes his fingers through his hair.
"Promise you won't stop loving me after you endure this torture?" you ask, reaching for his hand.
"Could it be any worse than the time you made me watch Grease?"
"Are you still pretending you didn't love that movie?"
"I absolutely did not," he lies.
"C'mon, stud, let's get this over with."
The reunion with your grandparents went about as expected. Thankfully, your mother took the brunt of their displeasure.
"Is this a store-bought lasagna?" "No, Mother, I made it from scratch."
"Are you seeing anyone?" "No, Dad." "That's the price of being a working girl, I suppose. Women these days think they can have it all!"
"When's the last time you had this carpet professionally cleaned?" "Last month, Mother."
And then, when your mom was properly worn down, they turned their focus to you.
"What grade are you in now, dear?" "12th." "Oh, you'll graduate this year! Where are you going to college?" "I don't know." "You really should be focusing on that. Can't have any… distractions."
And Gareth.
"I heard you're playing the drums now!" "…yeah." "Are you in a band?" "…yeah." "Well, what kind? Jazz? Symphony?" "…marching?" "That's exciting! And good exercise!"
And Eddie.
"What do your parents do, Edward?" "They're… gone." "What do you mean gone?" "Eddie lives with his uncle," your mother supplied. "He works at the power plant. He's the reason we're not eating in the dark." Your grandmother pursed her lips, but your grandfather nodded his head in approval.
Finally, after the longest dinner in the history of the world, your grandparents decided to turn in.
They retreated to the basement, where the pull-out couch had been made for them - and was probably re-made before they got into it - and you had the upstairs to yourselves again.
Which is when the real work began for everyone else.
Leftovers were put away, dishes were washed, potatoes and carrots were peeled, ingredients were measured, and everything that could be prepped for Wednesday's pre-Thanksgiving meal was prepped. You finished around midnight. Your mother would get up in a few hours to put the turkey in the oven, but the rest of you were off the hook until breakfast.
You kissed Eddie goodnight and went to bed alone.
At nearly five in the morning, the door creaked open and someone entered your bedroom. You cracked an eye open, hoping it was Eddie coming to crawl under the covers with you and steal a snuggle before everyone else woke up. But it was your grandmother, checking to make sure you were alone in your bed. Bitch.
She crept back out, and you glared at the door for half an hour before finally going back to sleep.
The next time you woke, it was because two bodies dropped on either side of you. You kept your eyes closed.
"Wake up, Sleeping Beauty." That one's Eddie.
"Please. Have you ever tried waking her up? She's more like the dragon." Shut up, Gareth.
"Right. Good thing we've got pinned under the covers. She'd probably claw us to shreds."
"Dragon breath is probably the bigger concern right now." You can hear the smirk in Gareth's voice.
"Fuck you both," you grumble. They laugh. "What time is it?"
Eddie looks at his watch. "Almost eight."
"How long you think we can stall before they come get us and drag us into the kitchen for another thrilling conversation over breakfast?"
The three of you sigh, just before your mother peeks her head in.
"Why are you in here? Whatever, I don't care. Get dressed and come eat before she starts in on the 'young people sleeping all day' crap again." She closes the door without waiting for a response.
"Alright, you heard the lady, be gone." You try to stretch, but you don't have much room to move, being pinned beneath your own blankets and all. You lay there, defenseless, until Eddie kisses your cheek and rolls off the bed. Gareth follows.
You grumble your way into another dress you hate, fix your face, and wait in the hallway for them. No way you're going in there alone.
The three of you appear in the kitchen doorway together.
"There they are! I thought they were going to sleep all day!" It's 7:58 on a day when there's no school, you old bat.
"When I was your age, I was awake at 4:30 every morning!" Good for you, gramps.
"Why don't you grab plates and eat in the living room?" Finally, someone speaking sense. Thanks, Mom.
The three of you grab plates and start filling them with sausage, eggs, and silver dollar pancakes.
You look down at the silverware drawer while you retrieve a trio of forks, and when you look up again, your grandmother is staring at you. And then at your plate.
"Remember, dearie: A moment on the lips, forever on the hips!"
Your face flushes. Your blood boils.
"Perhaps you'd like a piece of fruit instead?"
As soon as you're able to move again, you're going to stab her.
"Mother, does this say teaspoon or tablespoon?" your mom asks, holding out a hand-written recipe on an index card. "Go," she mouths when your grandmother turns her attention to the card.
You hurry into the living room and sit on the couch with the boys, staring down at the plate in front of you, still shaking with rage.
Eddie takes the forks and rests his chin on your shoulder. Did he hear it? Oh god, you're going to burst into flames right here.
"Hate to tell you this, but uh…" his voice drops to a whisper. "Your grandma's a real bitch."
You snort. He kisses your cheek and straightens.
"I'll drink to that," Gareth raises his orange juice and takes a swig. He puts his glass down and digs into his breakfast, but you hesitate.
"Stop."
You glance at Eddie. He stabs a piece of his scrambled egg and lifts his fork to your mouth. "You're fucking perfect. And you need fuel to survive today. C'mon. Eat up. Can't have you snapping any little old ladies in half 'cause you're hungry."
You laugh and lean forward to take his offering, then dig into your own plate. Just a few more hours. You can do this.
You let your empty plates sit on the coffee table as you stall, not wanting to go back into the kitchen and remind your grandparents that you're here. You rest your head on Eddie's shoulder, wishing your Lazy Thanksgiving hadn't been derailed.
"What are you just sitting around for when there's work to be done?" Your head snaps up off of Eddie's shoulder when your grandfather enters the room. Busted. The three of you begrudgingly pick up your plates while he settles into an armchair.
"Boys! Tell me about the local team!" he booms.
Oh. Cool. It's just you who needs to be working. You collect the plates without a word and leave the room with mouthed "I'm sorry" to Eddie. He and Gareth look at each other in panic; like they know anything about ANY local team.
"There you are! Did you think this cranberry sauce was going to make itself?"
You think the only person invited to this dinner who actually likes cranberry sauce bought a can of it that's been pushed to the back of the cabinet, but you don't say a word as you drop your breakfast dishes in the sink and fetch the bag of cranberries.
"How long have you been seeing that boy?"
The way she says "that boy" makes you bristle.
"It was a year in September."
"Oh, he didn't waste any time, did he?" You rip open the bag with a little more force than necessary, sending a few berries flying. She tuts from her place at the table, mixing something you wouldn't be eating, as you pick them up.
You take the bag of cranberries to the sink and dump them into a bowl.
"You should be using a strainer for that," she says, after you've already stuck the bowl beneath the faucet. You clench your jaw and start digging for the fucking strainer.
"Do you really think he's the kind of boy you want to be spending so much time with? I'd be ashamed to be seen with him in public. You know, dear," she turns her attention to your mother. "Gareth's getting a little shaggy too. Aren't there any barbers in town?"
This is it. Your last Thanksgiving. You're going to spend the next one in jail. You turn slowly, but before you can face her…
"Don't you have to be at church soon?" You whip your head toward your mother in confusion. Church? You? Has her own mother officially driven her insane?
Her eyes widen and say "get with the program, dummy."
"Oh! Right!" You say cluelessly.
"The kids volunteered to help with the church's Thanksgiving dinner for the homeless," your mother explains to both your grandmother and you. "The youth group is supposed to be at church in a little bit to start cleaning and setting up tables for tomorrow."
"I can't believe I almost forgot," you say, putting the cranberries aside and drying your hands on a towel. "I better go get the boys."
"Yes, you better," your mother nods knowingly. Whatever you were planning to get her for Christmas is no longer enough.
You dart past your grandmother's narrowed eyes and enter the living room. Your grandfather is droning on about defense, and the boys' eyes have glazed over.
"Uh, sorry to interrupt," no you're not, "but we better get going soon, if we're going to get to church on time."
Both boys raise an eyebrow, and you mimic your mother's "get with the program" look.
"Church? Today? While your grandparents are in town?"
He doesn't bother to turn, so you're able to smirk at the back of his head as you remind him, "Well, Grandpa, we didn't know you were coming until the last minute, or else we would've made time for you."
He grunts, not daring to argue further about commitments to a church, and you all disappear to "get ready." AKA reconvene in your bedroom to explain how your heroic mother is allowing you to escape, grab your jackets, and flee.
Two minutes later, Eddie's van leaves your driveway, and you all heave a sigh of relief.
"Where to?" Eddie asks.
"Literally anywhere but here," you answer.
"Think anything's open?"
You run through a list of options in your head before your brother chimes in, "I'm not going out in public dressed like this."
Right. Grandparent Clothes.
"My place?"
Eddie's place.
It's chilly when you walk in. "Sorry," Eddie mumbles, turning the heat on. "Set the heat back before I left."
"It's fine," you smile, pulling him close. "Body heat is better anyway."
"Why's it so cold if I'm in Hell?" Gareth grumbles.
"Would you like to go back home and talk sports with gramps?" Silence. "That's what I thought."
Eddie grabs a stack of blankets, and you all pile onto the couch and cover up. The next several hours are spent watching re-runs of game shows and shouting at contestants on the tiny TV.
This is the kind of Thanksgiving break you'd planned on.
When it begins to approach the two o'clock dinner-time your mom had shouted at your backs as you fled, you turn off the TV and fold the blankets and Eddie turns the heat back down.
Your spirits begin to dampen again as you pull back into your driveway.
"Two hours, tops," you remind them. "They'll be outta here before we know it. Then we can get back to Lazy Thanksgiving."
"Just like the pilgrims intended," Eddie jokes. You grin.
You drag yourselves back into the house. Your grandfather looks like he's spent most of the morning napping, your grandmother looks smug, and your mother looks like she's about to snap.
Your very early Thanksgiving dinner went by without major incident. Forced conversation, food you didn't really like, and your grandma complaining that she could've made it better. Things to be expected.
The food was the same kind of food you'd always had on Thanksgiving, and exactly what you were hoping to avoid this year. The dressing with mysterious chunks in it. Greasy gravy. The controversial casserole that once caused a screaming match between your parents. The pie that two competing aunts once brought on the same year, which made them stop speaking to each other until Easter. The made-from-scratch rolls that your cousins used to mash into little balls and throw at you when the grown-ups weren't looking. The fancy dishes that only came out on special occasions; God help the fool who scraped a metal utensil across it. Police interrogations were less brutal than the year your aunt noticed a crack in her best gravy boat.
And then, the happiest part of the day: their departure. You gave them awkward hugs, wished them a safe trip, and watched them pull out of the driveway. All four people standing in the garage held their breaths until the car was out of sight, and let out a collective sigh of relief.
"Thank GOD!" your mother exclaims. You and Gareth scrub the greasy lipstick marks off your cheeks. Eddie reaches into his pocket and pulls out his pack of cigarettes.
"Gimme one," your mom insists. You haven't seen her smoke since the divorce. But seconds later, she's blowing a puff of smoke and looking more relaxed than she has in the last 24 hours.
You stand in the garage in silence, enjoying being back to a foursome, and thinking about all the leftovers you didn't want.
"Eddie?" your mother asks, slowly blowing out her smoke and gazing into the distance.
"Yeah?" he answers, stubbing out the cigarette he'd burned through at twice her speed.
"If I were to leave a crisp $20 bill on the kitchen table and go take a nap, is there any chance it could turn into something greener by the time I wake up?"
He looks at you. You look at him. All of your eyes eventually land on her.
She glances toward you and scoffs. "Children, please. I went to college in the '60s. Can you make it happen or not?"
"Uh…" he chuckles awkwardly, "Yeah?"
"Good."
"You uh… you want anything specific?"
"I would like to be calm and happy for the rest of the week."
"Okay."
Your eyes dart between them during the strangest conversation you've ever witnessed.
"Okay," she repeats, flicking her cigarette like an expert and walking into the house.
After a moment of silence, you have to ask: "What the fuck just happened?"
"Our mother just bought weed from your boyfriend."
The three of you laugh in disbelief. This is officially the weirdest Thanksgiving ever.
"I gotta cruise by Rick's real quick, wanna ride?"
"Sure… you think he'd want a plate?"
Eddie gives you a strange look.
"We've got plenty of leftovers. And we're making the good shit tomorrow, so there'll be even more. Wayne's getting a heap too."
"Kay."
You're piling food onto a styrofoam plate - well, two, for reinforcement - when the phone rings. Gareth answers, rolls his eyes, and mouths "Dad."
You cover Rick's plate with aluminum foil and hand it to Eddie. "Go on, tell Rick I said hi and Happy Thanksgiving. When you get back, all of the annoying relative shit should be over."
You send him away with a peck and pick up the phone in the hallway to join the conversation with yet another relative you didn't want to talk to. How thoughtful of him, to call the day before Thanksgiving so he could spend the real holiday with his new family.
You were sitting at the kitchen table, looking through Black Friday ads from the newspaper when Eddie returned. He quietly closes the door and plops into the seat across from you.
"Rick's in love with you now."
"Oh yeah?" you grin.
In a pretty decent imitation of his reefer-loving friend, Eddie drawls, "Thanksgiving food on a Wednesday? It's like Christmas came early, man… except it's Thanksgiving. Are those real mashed potatoes? And pie too?! You tell your girl and her mama that I really appreciate this."
You try to muffle your laughter as he plops the requested bag of green on the table, exactly where the $20 had been an hour before.
"Think I should roll those for her?"
You shrug. "I just found out she smokes like an hour ago, don't ask me about her drug preferences."
He contemplates for a second, then pulls the bag toward him and reaches into his pocket for rolling papers.
"You wanna hit the mall Friday morning?" you ask, flipping the brightly colored pages. "Ought to be some decent sales."
"Mhm," he hums, tongue poking out of his mouth, trying not to break his concentration.
"Are you trying to impress my mother with your joint-rolling abilities?"
"Maybe," he grins, finishing another.
Gareth wanders in the kitchen and sits at the table hesitantly, watching Eddie work. He's smoked with you a few times - better to keep an eye on him that let him go off with people you don't trust, you figure - but he's never rolled on his own before.
"You wanna try one?" Eddie asks. Gareth looks to you nervously. He's still not entirely convinced the DEA isn't going to bust down the door every time he touches the stuff. You crook half a smile, and he gets up to sit next to Eddie.
He's more patient here than he is at school. No jocks to unsettle. No reputation to maintain. No need to rule with an iron fist. He wasn't Eddie the Freak or Eddie the DM or Eddie the third-time senior here. His guard was down, and he was just Eddie. You love all the Eddies, but this one's your favorite.
You watch him teach proper rolling techniques out of the corner of your eye while you pretend to browse ads. They'd finished almost half the bag when you hear your mother coming. Eddie slides the rolled joints into the bag and puts it back where he was supposed to.
Gareth grabs the ad on top of the stack of papers and opens it to a random page, blushing crimson when he's greeted by Sears lingerie models. Flip, flip, flip. He becomes very interested in power tools, and you and Eddie try not to make eye contact, because you know you'll laugh.
Your mother enters the kitchen with a yawn and a stretch and spots her loot.
"Well, what do you know, looks like the Cannabis Fairy paid me a visit."
You snort. Eddie tries to hide a smile.
She looks down at the bag, and then at him.
"What, you think an old lady can't roll her own joints?"
"Just trying to save you some time." He smiles and bats his eyelashes. Moron.
"Riiiight," she says, pulling on her coat and picking up the bag. She steps into the garage… and leaves the door open. You look from it to Eddie, until she pokes her head back in. "Are you coming, or are you still pretending to be good kids?"
The three of you exchange glances, rooted in place until finally you shrug and get up. The boys follow. You grab jackets and step down into the garage.
She's sitting in a lawn chair, arms crossed like she's waiting to bust you for breaking curfew… with a lit joint in her hand.
"Et tu, Gareth?" she sighs when he steps down and closes the door.
"Uh… peer pressure?"
Everyone laughs.
You and Eddie drag the battered loveseat that the previous owners abandoned closer, and drop into it. Gareth unfolds another lawn chair and sits uneasily.
And that was how you found yourself passing around illegal substances in your garage, on the eve of Thanksgiving, with your boyfriend, little brother… and your mother.
You melt into Eddie once you begin to feel the effects. You lean your head on his shoulder and wish you'd thought to bring blankets out. His hand rests on your leg, radiating warmth into your skin, and you wish you were small enough so that you could fit your whole body in his hand. He could just carry you around and keep you in his pocket and let you attack people who irritated him. They'd never know what bit them. (You. You'd be what bit them.)
"Alright, what'd we miss?" Gareth asks.
"Let's see…" your mother ponders. "I'm a terrible mother who's raising disrespectful delinquents. My marriage failed because I emasculated my perfect bread-winning husband by insisting on working outside the home. He is blameless. The new church I selected must not be much of a church, to let in such shaggy youths. My son will become a devil-worshipping drug addict. My daughter will become impregnated before she graduates because I let that boy sleep in my house. Good news though: If you get knocked up, they probably won't come down for graduation, because they'll die of shame. Oh, and my turkey was dry."
You take a moment to process all this. Where do you even start?
"Dude…" Gareth begins. "Grandma's a cunt."
After a moment of stunned silence, your mother starts to laugh. And then you all join in. Minutes later, tears are streaming down your face, and you still can't stop laughing. You're clinging to Eddie, shaking together, finally feeling warm and happy and comfortable after a day of hell.
"Oh, man," your mom finally gets out, wiping the tears from her eyes. "What do you say we go finish up their leftovers so we can start over tomorrow?"
"That is the best idea in the history of Earth," Gareth says with genuine awe. Which sets you and Eddie off again. Your mom and Gareth go inside, and you and Eddie eventually pull yourselves together and off the loveseat.
Your mom has decided not to bother with individual plates; she's thrown all the grandparent-specific leftovers onto a glass pan and stuck it in the oven to reheat. You gather around the table and wait. When it comes out, you each grab a fork and go to town.
That's one way to get rid of leftovers you don't want.
"I'm going to bed," your mother finally says, getting up with a stretch. "I cooked all day today. Tomorrow's your problem. Wake me up when dinner's ready."
"Kay," you mumble through the last mouthful of the casserole you weren't generally fond of, but tonight found pretty good.
You left the dish in the sink and retreated to the living room to finish off the night with a movie.
"Ugh," Eddie groans, leaning back into the couch and sticking out his belly. "Why did you make me eat so much?"
"Yeah, that was definitely my doing," you laugh, pulling a blanket across your lap. Gareth puts in a tape and settles into his favorite spot on the floor, wrapped up in a blanket cocoon.
"I can't even breathe," Eddie whines.
You roll your eyes, reach over, and pop the button on his jeans. He falls silent as the previews begin, but you can feel him staring at you.
"What?" you finally ask, turning your head when you can't stand it anymore.
"Will you marry me?"
"What?"
"That was like the hottest thing anyone's ever done to me."
A laugh escapes you. "You are such a dweeb."
"But you love me," he grins.
"…yeah, I guess," you sigh, pretending to be defeated.
His jaw drops in mock offense.
"You two are gonna make me puke up all that old person food if you keep on," Gareth chimes in from across the room.
You laugh and snuggle into Eddie's side, pulling the blanket over both of you.
"Love you," you whisper.
"Lots?"
"Lots and lots," you confirm, nuzzling your cheek into his shoulder.
You woke when the screen turned to static, shook the boys awake, and dragged your corpses to bed.
"Best Thanksgiving ever," Eddie mumbled when you crawled under the covers beside him.
"Babe?"
"Hm?"
"That was Grandparent Thanksgiving. Tomorrow is Lazy Thanksgiving. It ain't over 'til the last piece of turkey's gone."
He chuckles. "So what exactly are we doing tomorrow?"
"We'll make the food, since Mom did everything yesterday. Turkey's done, so we just need sides. It'll be easy, pretty much everything has instructions on the box. There's rolls and a pie hiding in a cooler in the garage. So we'll make food, eat food, lay in front of the TV and watch old Thanksgiving specials I recorded and whine about how much food we ate… until it's time to eat more food."
"I think Thanksgiving might be my favorite holiday."
"Mine too, now." You smile a sleepy smile, not wanting to say goodnight and go to sleep just yet. "Still wanna hit Starcourt Friday morning? Lots of stuff on sale. If we strike out, we can always go back to your place… if you don't mind being alone with me for a little while… I'm sure we could find something to do…"
"You know, Black Friday's sounding pretty good too."
You chuckle and lean in for a kiss.
"I'm so happy you're here with me," you breathe.
"I'm happy you wanted me here," he says, giving you another kiss.
"Sorry about the grandparents," you wince.
"It's alright… we'll have it at our place next year." Your heart soars at the thought of getting to be like this with him every night. "And we won't tell them where we live."
You laugh and snuggle closer. "Sounds good to me, Eds."
He sighs happily and kisses your forehead, and you both drift to sleep in a comfortable silence.
You woke up so warm and comfortable, you almost didn't want to get out of bed, even though it's nearly eleven.
But today is Lazy Thanksgiving. The Thanksgiving you've always dreamed of. No unwanted guests. No hard labor. No stuffy clothes. You turn over to look at the clock, and Eddie pounces.
"Where you think you're goin'?" he mumbles into the back of your neck, holding you in place with an arm around your waist.
"Food," you yawn.
"This is all I wanna eat." He nibbles at the back of your neck, and you shrink away from him with a laugh.
"Not on the menu today, I'm afraid."
"Hmph." He lets you go and flops onto his back. You turn to look at him. Arms crossed. Pouty. Hair a mess. Perfect.
You slide closer and sling a leg over his. You put your arm across his middle and rest your head in the crook of his neck. He doesn't budge.
"Tomorrow, however…" you whisper with a soft kiss to his neck. He finally uncrosses his arms to run a hand up your thigh.
"Tell me more."
"Hmmm…" you hum, nuzzling into him. You can feel him melt. "Nope." You nip at his neck and haul yourself out of bed. He growls, but you're already out of the room before he makes a move.
Your mom is drinking coffee and watching the parade in the living room. "You sure you've got this?" she asks.
"We got this," you confirm. "We'll wake you up when it's ready."
"Like anyone could sleep through this thrilling display!" she says with mock-offense, gesturing to a high school marching band. You smile and return to the kitchen, hoping she enjoys her first uninterrupted parade in years.
Both boys wander into the kitchen a few minutes later, while you're pulling things from the cabinets and moving them to the table.
"Eddie, you're on stuffing. Gareth, you've got mashed potatoes."
"And what about you, Your Highness?" Gareth grumbles.
"Everything else, Prince Ass."
Eddie snorts and picks up one of the four boxes of Stove Top to read the instructions. He looks at you apprehensively.
"I have faith in you." He smirks and reads the box again.
"How many potatoes?" Gareth asks, skimming the instructions. Potato flakes from a flimsy cardboard box. If that didn't finish your grandmother off, the packets of gravy mix would.
"A buttload."
"That's not on the box."
"Then whatever the biggest batch is."
"Kay," he shrugs, reaching for the measuring cup you've left in the middle of the table.
The three of you work together in a shockingly harmonious manner. Pots on the stove, dishes in the oven, bowls in and out of the microwave, and nearly an hour later, the table is as set as it's gonna be. No serving dishes saved for special occasions; everything remains on the stove and counter, in whatever vessel it was cooked in. You were all fully capable of getting up and fixing your own plates.
And that's exactly what you did.
"Are we gonna hold hands and say what we're thankful for?" your mom teases.
"I'm thankful that Grandma and Grandpa are gone," Gareth says quickly, causing a laugh to spread around the table.
Screw it. "I'm thankful that all my favorite people are here."
"Awww," Gareth mocks, causing you and Eddie to both kick him under the table. You smirk at each other when he hisses.
"I'm thankful for the invite," Eddie smiles, making your heart soften.
"And I'm thankful for brown-and-serve rolls," your mom says, ripping hers open and slathering it with butter. "Okay, you little dorks, raise a roll."
You each pick up your roll and raise it, as instructed.
"To Lazy Thanksgiving!"
"To Lazy Thanksgiving!" you all echo, then take a bite out of your perfectly adequate rolls that took 8 minutes to prepare. (A great improvement from the traditional 4-hour ordeal.)
Lazy Thanksgiving really was the holiday you'd always dreamed of.
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