Catching Teardrops In my Hands {Addison}

[PICKLE ABREY]

Pickle was weird. Pickle was strange. Pickle was different. Pickle was smart. Pickle was sweet. Pickle tried. Pickle didn't try hard enough. Pickle was an idiot. Pickle should listen to Freddie. Pickle shouldn't listen to Freddie. Pickle was a moron. Pickle was a fool.

Freddie was supposed to be her friend, but there were some moments that she didn't completely understand him. It was almost like there was a language barrier between the two of them. He took her for a complete idiot, and she had fallen for a few of his tricks--but she smiled and waved them off, then went and licked her wounds when she was alone. But this time, this time it hurt so much. It wasn't anything new, but maybe Pickle was just getting tired of feeling like an idiot, and then having Freddie announce it at the top of his lungs to anyone who was in the area.

She already knew she wasn't anything special. She wasn't like Addison, or Kenny, or even Willow for that matter. She was an average height, skinny enough to be thin, but not boney. Her face was average, save for two large orbs that sat in her face. Lips that seemed to perpetually pout, and puff out when she was frustrated. Her eyes were startlingly big, always making her look frightend. Normally, it wasn't too bad unless she widened them. But right now, they looked especially round due to the puffyness of her eyes. Her little nose was red, and her face was blotchy. Her hair had been bleached out a while ago by Kenny, but it sememed flat and limp, pushed behind her ears while she angrily kneaded some dough on the kitchen counter.

She used the back of her arm to wipe at her eyes, and frowned into the dough. She had stopped kneading, and ended up bursting into tears again. Why was she even baking right now? Addison was the only one that ever ate the things she made. Actually--that wasn't fair. She didn't know if the others were eating the foods she made, but she never saw it happen. Just because she was a little different, Freddie made her feel like a leper. Hadn't she been nice? Hadn't she been sweet, and polite? Just lika Mama and Papa told her to be? She was here to go to school, find out what she wanted to do with her life, and make friends. But she found herself wishing she just stayed in New Orleans where the streets and people were just as strange as she was. Where her little twang didn't stick out so badly. She missed her father's Cajun accent speaking to her before bed. The soft lull of her mother's voice.

A place where she felt like she belonged.

She really shouldn't have picked up her phone that started ringing. If it was Freddie, he'd only tease her for sounding stuffed up. But it wasn't. It was Addison. Sweet, sweet Addison. Addison who never seemed to make her feel weird. Addison.

Pickle hadn't managed to gurgle out what was upsetting her because she was wracked by another wave of sobs that were trying to wriggle its way out of her throat. Instead, she got word that Addison would be right over. Pickle unlocked her door for Addison to come in when she arrived, and she went back to kneading the dough. She stopped again though, and sniffled loudly, bringing a tray out of the ovean. Homemade chocolate chip cookies cooled in the air, while she grabbed her rollingpin and started to spread the dough on the counter. Stopping again to lift her shirt upwards to wipe her eyes before getting back to work. She pressed her lips in a thin line. Stupid Freddie, making her cry.

[/blockquote]

Tags: Dani / Addison / Olley / Pickle
Notes: I cried a little. Ngl.
Outfit: PJs!
Song: Skyscraper by Demi Lovato

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[ADDISON ROWE]

TAG: pickle/olley NOTES: awww pickle</3 WORDS: 584 OUTFIT: here

If there was one thing Addison didn’t tolerate, it was her friends being picked on.

Admittedly, Pickle hadn’t explained why she was crying. It didn’t matter why, though. What mattered was that she was crying. Addison adored Pickle, simply loved her. The girl was sweet and kind, her cooking was to die for, and the last thing she deserved was to be made fun of. Unfortunately, it seemed that that was all people did. It was mostly behind Pickle’s back and somehow often in Addison’s range of hearing. Those people never got away without a harsh scolding for she always reprimanded them for being rude and childish.

Addison had called Pickle to invite her out. She had a craving for Chinese and thought it would be nice to go somewhere. She even would’ve been fine with ordering in and watching a movie. Addison just wanted to spend time with Pickle; it felt like they hadn’t in awhile. That was probably due to Addison’s amount of studying lately. She hated when big tests rolled around. It meant less time for friends and sleep, more time for studying and hand cramps. Now that it was over, she wanted to do as many fun things as she could before another test stole her time away.

However, all thoughts of Chinese were gone the moment Pickle picked up. It was clear that she was crying, had been crying, and there was no way Addison was leaving the girl to deal on her own. Sometimes, a good cry was all one needed and being alone during those was crucial. Other times, the crying came from being hurt and being with somebody during those was vital. Addison was happy to be the shoulder to cry on especially because Pickle was her friend. Simple as that. Others may have found her weird but Addison found her to be absolutely darling.

She’d changed out of her going out clothes into something more comfortable. Too busy worrying about Pickle, Addison hardly realized she barely matched. It would’ve been embarrassing to cross campus like this but they lived in the same building. All it would take was a few minutes and she didn’t care if any other girls saw her; they understood dressing for comfort in the sake of one’s home. Addison wasted no time getting to Pickle’s dorm, walking first at a brisk pace before practically running there.

Addison knocked once despite the urge to just burst in. Once she’d made it clear she was there, Addison entered quickly and looked around for her friend. The first thing she noticed was that it smelled like cookies. Fresh out of the oven cookies. Addison, unable to help herself, inhaled deeply. If there was one good thing that came from being sad, it was baking sprees. That meant Pickle had to be in the kitchen... It only took a few steps to get there and what she saw almost broke her heart.

Pickle was wiping her eyes with her shirt and Addison could tell (just as she could over the phone) that Pickle had been crying awhile. Approaching the girl with determination Addison stopped beside her, turned Pickle to face her, and wrapped her arms tight around her. Hugs helped in any and all situations, she knew that much. Addison didn’t let go until Pickle had pulled away and once that happened, she took a small step back. Her expression was a strange half-smile, half-frown, and her eyebrows together, worried creases in her forehead. “What happened?”

[/blockquote]

LYRICS: Never Grow Up, Taylor Swift
CREDIT: Erika, yo. Don’t steal or I’ll sick demonic panda bears after you. :3

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[PICKLE ABREY]

Pickle jumped when she felt the arms around her. But only three people really hugged her. Mama, Papa, and Addison. Pickle, without needing to look up hugged Addison back, being sure not to touch her with her flour covered hands, and careful to not wipe her face on her shoulder. Pretty Addison shouldn't get messy like weird Pickle. She sniffled loudly, and finally pulled back and when back to rolling the dough.

"T-thank you for coming over..help yourself." Pickle nodded her head towards the tray of warm gooey cookies and fresh biscuits in a small basket that were cooling beneath a hot towel. "You can pretend you made them, if you want left overs. They won't eat them if I give it to them." Once the dough was rolled out, she started to carefully cut off pieces, and began molding it like it was a piece of clay.

She wouldn't cry. She wouldn't cry. She wouldn't cry. After a few moments of squinting at the dough, her fingers quickly working it before it dried; she felt another wave of tears come bubbling up. "Freddie!" She cried out in exasperation, turning to look at Addison again. Her brows furrowed at the ends, slanting downwards. Stressed. "I'm sick of Freddie making me feel like a complete idiot. I haven't done anything to him, and he's just...he's jsut mean!" The words came out passionate, rushed; Pickle's throat convulsed as she swallowed hard her shoulders slumped in defeat while the skewer she was using to mold the bread remained in her hand.

Pickle looked down at the thin stick, that looked like a stretched out toothpick. She twirled it delicately in her hands, and sighed, sniffling again. She gave her head a little shake, "Sometimes...sometimes I think they don't actually like me." Again, Pickle's eyes started to fill with tears. But unlike the fake tears that she pushed out every now and then, these ones were real and hot. Scalding and stinging her eyes as they fell. "I'm different, I'm not...pretty like them. Or popular, or graceful. But I haven't done anything to deserve this. And Freddie..." She gripped the skewer a little tighter, feeling the wood beneath her fingers start to splinter, so she quickly set it on the counter before she could completely break it. "Freddie only laughs at me when I tell him to stop." She kept her head down, staring at Addisons feet while her own arms wrapped around herself. She gripped her own upperarms, almost hugging herself while she sniffled.

She relied on Addison to tell her the truth. She always had. At least, that's what Pickle believed. She could put Addison with the others in her category of friends. But Addison and Nina...they didn't feel like ones who would be two-faced to her. There was something very genuine about the both of them. Those giant blue eyes looked up at Addison, looking almost like one of those droopey-eyed Littlest Petshop toys. "Why? Why does he pick on he so much?" She asked in a quiet whisper, "Why do any of them tease me?" She looked at Addison as though she were waiting on the meaning of life. That Addison would reveal all, and light would shed on Pickle's life.[/blockquote]

Tags: Dani / Addison / Olley / Pickle
Notes: I cried a little. Ngl.
Outfit: PJs!
Song: Skyscraper by Demi Lovato

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[ADDISON ROWE]

TAG: pickle/olley NOTES: i'm assuming addie hasn't seen pickle since her hair was dyed blonde. i can change this if you want! WORDS: 541 OUTFIT: here

Addison wouldn’t have minded flour on her clothes because these were her messy clothes. It didn’t matter what happened to these because they were made for messy activities – baking, painting, cleaning. Addison fully intended to give Pickle another hug afterwards, one where she didn’t have to be careful about flour on her hands or tears on her shoulder. “Of course,

[/color]” Addison said, almost sounding surprised. “What are friends for?[/color]” Addison would’ve gone against the world to get here tonight; taking care of her friends came before anything else.

Addison picked up a cookie and took a bite. She let out a delighted noise and sighed. “So good, Pickle. Truly. You are a phenomenal baker.[/color]” She frowned a bit, always disappointed that others wouldn’t try the food Pickle made. They really didn’t know what they were missing out on. “You’ll be famous one day. Then, they’ll all be kicking themselves for not eating your food sooner.[/color]” Addison was sure of it. She’d make it happen if she had to. (In fact, a tiny idea planted itself in her mind just then and given enough time, it’d be a perfect plan). Addison watched as Pickle shaped the dough, almost mesmerized. Watching somebody do something they were very good at was so fascinating to her.

Almost startled by Pickle’s outburst, Addison looked at her, surprised. Freddie. Of course. Oh, that boy was just asking for it. Her eyes narrowed, anger bubbling up her throat, threatening to spill out into insults and ways to exact revenge. Mean didn’t even begin to describe what he was. “I’m just about done with the way he treats you,[/color]” Addison managed, taking the high road and avoiding saying anything vulgar. She wrapped her arm around Pickle’s shoulders, pulling her close and kissing the top of her head (she had to stand on her tip toes a bit as they were nearly the same height).

Addison stepped off to the side, finishing her cookie. She chewed thoughtfully, wondering what she could do to cheer Pickle up. To make this all better. She hated – absolutely hated – seeing Pickle cry. Somebody as sweet as Pickle should be smiling and laughing. “Not pretty?[/color]” Addison repeated, surprised. “Pickle, you’re gorgeous! You’ve got these big pretty eyes and your—[/color]” How had she not noticed before?

Addison stepped closer, squinting her eyes and taking a strand of Pickle’s hair between her fingers. “When did this happen?[/color]” It wasn’t that Pickle looked terrible as a blonde (in fact, with the blue eyes, she looked lovely), it was just… strange. Realizing she’d gotten off track, Addison let the locks go and smiled a bit sheepishly. “You make a lovely blonde.[/color]” Still, going from brunette to blonde could be hard to handle and Addison almost would’ve preferred if Pickle went back to her natural color.

Addison rested her hands on Pickle’s arms, wanting nothing more than to help right now. For one, Freddie would not get away with this. “Because they are children.[/color]” Addison answered simply, wishing she had a better answer. Usually, there was nothing wrong with children. “They are mean and have nothing better to do than hurt others.[/color]” She shook her head. “But I’m not letting him get away with it this time. I promise.[/color]”
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LYRICS: Never Grow Up, Taylor Swift
CREDIT: Erika, yo. Don’t steal or I’ll sick demonic panda bears after you. :3

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[PICKLE ABREY]

Pickle's expression had softened when Addison picked up a cookie. She wasn't entirely sure what she wanted to do when she got to college, where she wanted to take her life. Pinching a piece of dough in her fingers, she twisted it idly. She had never thought of maybe doing this for a profession. Addison's mention of fame made her wonder if it was a possibility that she could open a bakery somewhere. If things continued to go like this, there were a few places back home she could always go to.

Her attention was caught again when when Addison's voice spoke up, and she went back to twisting the skewer in her hand. She sniffed again, and relaxed into Addison's arms. Pickle never had any older siblings, and there had been times when Mama Pickle had hugged and kissed her daughter when she was stressed. But there was something much muchier about the way Addison did it. If Pickle had a baby sister, she would do the same that Addison just did when her baby sister would get upset. The awkward girl seemed to look a little less defeated, but she was still staring at the skewer.

"Big eyes, exactly. They're huge. Huuuuuggeee." It wasn't entirely hard to notice. There were a difference between doe eyes, and what Pickle had. Sometimes Pickle could manage the doe-eyed look, but more often than not--she was caught by surprise. Which didn't help those eyes of hers.

Those eyes that glanced down to look at the strands Addison held in her hand. "Um...Kenny. A few days ago. She said that I would look better as a blonde. She kept bugging me about it, so I just said yes." She murmured, her lips pushing to the side when the blonde strands fell back down to her shoulders. She was still trying to adjust to it; and she had managed to frighten herself a few times when she caught herself in the mirror. She hadn't quite gotten use to it, but Kenny and Addison seemed to like it. Maybe it wasn't so bad.

Pickle once again got brought back to attention with the warm hands on her arms, her lips turning down. Children, they were children. That was why. Pickle took in a sigh, and let it out in one big huff. Well, that explained it. Only not really. But Pickle remembered how the little kids at the park had been kind of mean. Did people not grow out of that as they got older. "What are you going to do?" She asked, before turning to wrap the dough in a seran wrap. She couldn't focus on molding the bread just yet. However, she could start from scratch and teach Addison something too!

"Oh, why don't you tell me while we make something together. Is there anything that you would like to make or to learn?"

Curious Pickle was a curious pickle.[/blockquote]

Tags: Dani / Addison / Olley / Pickle
Notes: I think I have a new Pickle trend i'm starting.
Outfit: PJs!
Song: Skyscraper by Demi Lovato

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[ADDISON ROWE]

TAG: pickle/olley NOTES: WORDS: 575 OUTFIT: here

Addison hoped it was alright that she was trying each baked good. It was just that she hadn’t had much of a lunch and she was very hungry. She nibbled on a biscuit and wondered if Pickle had any jam. Apple Cinnamon was her favorite but she’d settle for Strawberry. Looking around the kitchen, Addison imagined how it would be if Pickle was working in a famous one. Well, could kitchens be famous? A restaurant could be famous for its food. Alright, so Addison would imagine Pickle running her own restaurant. It really was a lovely sight. All thriving and busy. “I’d love to see you the owner of a famous restaurant. Maybe a nice little café where people came in every day for some pastries.

[/color]”

Addison shook her head. No, that wasn’t what she had meant. There were definitely models with eyes like Pickle’s and they looked scary. It might have been the intense make up… Whatever it was, Pickle worked the big eyes. “I think they are wonderful.[/color]” In fact, Addison would bet they were quite good for guilt-tripping and getting what she wanted. “I bet you could go places with those eyes.[/color]” Who could say no to her? Addison certainly couldn’t. Pickle was just too precious to turn down in any way. Oh, she could model eye makeup. Was that a sort of thing girls could do? Or did you have to be available to model in everything? She was letting her mind wander. Focus!

Huh… Kennedy. Addison would have to have a talk with her. “You look fine either way.[/color]” Addison wasn’t sure how she felt about the whole ‘looking better with said color.’ If given enough time and effort, anybody could pull off whatever color they wanted. That didn’t mean she’d go dying her hair red to prove herself right, though. Not a chance. “Did you want it dyed, though? You could have said no…[/color]” If Pickle had trouble saying no to people… that needed to be touched on. Addison knew a girl who said yes to every request and it hurt far more than it helped. She shrugged, “really, though, it looks nice.[/color]”

Finishing the biscuit, Addison clasped her hands behind her back to resist snacking on anything else. She wasn’t sure yet if she’d be staying the night. If she wasn’t, then she needed to save room for a proper dinner once she got back to her dorm. If she was, then perhaps she and Pickle could make something to eat. Addison pursed her lips, thinking. What was she going to do? Well, she probably had all night to think. It wasn’t like they could do anything about it until tomorrow, anyway. “I don’t know. We’ll figure it out, though.[/color]” She certainly intended on having Pickle be a part of the plan (once it was all figured out).

Addison’s brows rose. Was there something she wanted to learn? Addison enjoyed cooking but it wasn’t something she really got into. It wouldn’t hurt, though, right? Addison smiled and nodded. “That sounds great![/color]” She pulled her hair back, twisting it over her shoulder. She had no hair tie but then again, this wasn't a culinary class. “I’ve always wanted to try making pie…[/color]” Addison didn’t mind really want kind; she liked all sorts of pie. How could you be picky about pie? “Maybe apple? Is that simple… for, you know… uhm, first time pie makers?[/color]” Oh, what was she even saying?


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LYRICS: Never Grow Up, Taylor Swift
CREDIT: Erika, yo. Don’t steal or I’ll sick demonic panda bears after you. :3

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[PICKLE ABREY]

Owning a restaurant could be lovely, actually. Pickle could cook up a mean gumbo. Just the thought of the cajun specialties of home made her mouth tingle, able to taste the delightful sizzle of the spice. The way that cooking always brought in the neighborhood and made the home house smell warm. It would stew for hours to acheive the perfect flavor. Maybe if she owned a restaurant, she could bring that touch of Louisiana to New York. Jazz music, people laughing and talking, the clanking of dishes filling the air. Beignets with every meal. Her homesickness had prevented her from making any of the traditional Louisiana dishes...maybe she'd have to share those with Addison sometime.

"I...I wasn't entirely against it. I mean...she was so sure." She murmured, looking down as she shrugged her shoulders. Her natural color was a plain, boring mousey brown that had almost no life to it. At home, it was always flattened back in a tight nest at the back of her head, or organized into ringlets, or whatever Mama decided to do with her hair that day. It relaxed the woman, and Pickle enjoyed the new designs that her mother came up with. The elongated blonde hair should have been played with, but it left Pickle feeling unsure and not very much like herself. Maybe she just needed to get used to it.

Apple pie! That was easy as...well, pie. "Yes! I have aprons in the pantry if you want, and hairties are in that drawer." Pickle wandered to the drawer, and pulled out one of the black bands, tossing one to Addison before sweeping her own long hair back. "I already have some dough ready, so while I line the pan, I'll need you to cut up the apples." Almost like a completely new Pickle, she eased around Addison and tugged the fridge open and grabbed the small back of cold apples, setting them on the counter before retreiving the cutting board from the side of the counter. "They don't have to be perfect, but you want them kinda small and piecey." She instructed, before pulling out a pot from the cabinet as well, along with honey, cinnamon, and a measuring cup. "Three aples outta do it. When you're done chopping them, put them in the pot. Then measure out two cups of water, one cup of honey and two tablespoons of cinnamon. Then boil. You want the liquid to be kinda thick and caramelized." Pickle explained, before she grabbed an abandonded pie tray next to her dough and began to line the pan.

Her fingers went to work, carefully dusting it with flour, before placing the dough inside. "I wish I could trick him into eating something. And he'd be like, 'Ohhh, these are so awesome!' and then his face when he realized that I'd made them. HAH!" Pickle's lips scrunched up, and her brows furrowed as she made sure the entire pan was lined, before shoving it into the already heated oven to pre-bake. "Sometimes I could just....I could just....ooohhh," The sound that escaped her mouth was laced with frustration and accompanied by scrunching her face up. "I could just bite him sometimes." Instead, she settled for angrily sweeping up one of her cookies, and biting fiercely into it before sighing and slumping. "I wonder if he'll ever grow up. If he'll ever change and not be such a nincompoop."

[/blockquote]

Tags: Dani / Addison / Olley / Pickle
Notes: I think I have a new Pickle trend i'm starting.
Outfit: PJs!
Song: Skyscraper by Demi Lovato

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[ADDISON ROWE]

TAG: pickle/olley NOTES: WORDS: 523 OUTFIT: here

Addison wondered shortly if Pickle was considering the idea of running her own restaurant. If not that, she was sure her friend could be successful in most anything else. It was just that she really excelled in the Culinary Arts. It certainly wasn’t anything she wanted to press the matter on, though. Tonight was to be a night of simple, easy things! Thinking of the future wasn’t any fun, and Addison could certainly attest to that, as she thought of the future more than most people did. And she could promise anybody that it wasn’t fun.

Addison nodded. “Isn’t she always?

[/color]” She stifled a laugh, thinking about how Kennedy did always seem so sure of herself. That girl was full of confidence. Still, so long as Pickle wasn’t completely against the new hair color, then Addison was happy. When Pickle was in a good mood, Addison was in a good mood. Which helped to explain why she felt so tense now, so angry at Freddie. She was doing a well enough job, at least, of setting that aside for later. Whatever she came up with was going to be the best revenge (and probably the only) plan she’d ever think of.

Almost immediately after Addison had suggested that they bake apple pie, Pickle was hurrying around the kitchen. When Addison smiled, it was with ease, and her heart swelled with pride. Yes, Pickle would make a perfect head chef. She caught the hair tie that Pickle tossed to her and she pulled her hair back into a high ponytail. Listening as Pickle gave her directions, Addison picked an apron out from the pantry, tying it securely around her. (She highly doubt it would matter how messy she got, given that this outfit was a disaster in and of itself). “Yes, ma’am![/color]”

Giggling a little to herself, Addison took her place at the counter where Pickle had set up the cutting board. She slowly but sure got into a rhythm of cutting the apples into small pieces, keeping her area as organized as she could. Addison didn’t realize it right away, but as she listened to Pickle, it became clear to her that that was the perfect plan. People were always so rude about not wanting to eat whatever it was Pickle had made because Pickle had made it.

“That… Pickle, that’s actually…[/color]” Addison paused and scooped up a handful of apple pieces and dropped them into the pot. She worked next on the mixture of water, honey, and cinnamon. “That is a really good idea.[/color]” As she stirred the apple pieces together with the mix, making sure they were all coated nicely, Addison found the plan coming together in her mind.

“We could say I made it, you know? And then after he’s already—[/color]” She couldn’t help but to laugh at the very image of Pickle biting Freddie and she shook her head, waiting for the snickers to stop. “Freddie Foster? Grow up? Highly unlikely.[/color]” Pigs would fly before that happened. “You’ve got so many leftovers here, though, Pickle! We could trick him into eating some. Really, I think this could work…[/color]”
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