#and I need to go back to the cider mill to watch them press apples

[0m3n-0f-d3ath]

🍃🍁M.J

In some fall outfits 🍁🍃

[expectingtofly]

Dancing in the Square

pure fluff, xmas tree lighting, dean and cas in love, post 15x20

also on ao3

Day 12 of @bend-me-shape-me‘s SPN Advent Calendar 2020 prompts

“Hot apple cider! Two dollars a cup!” rang across the crowded town square as Dean pulled up the zipper of his coat, shoving his hands into his pockets. A large evergreen towered above everyone’s heads in the middle of the square, and Dean smiled seeing Jack stand on his tiptoes to see the tree. 

“Oh, good,” Jack said with a sigh of relief. “The lights haven't been turned on yet.”

“We still have an hour,” Sam said, checking his watch. They had driven to a nearby town for a tree lighting event, and Jack had insisted they leave early to ensure they arrived on time to see the tree being lit.

Castiel hooked an arm in Dean’s, pressing up against his side. “We could fit a tree that size in the bunker.”

Dean snorted. “There’s no way we’d fit it through the door.” 

“Dean, can we get cider?” Dean looked down at Jack tugging on his other arm. “I wanna try it.”

Looking across the street to spot the vendor announcing the sale of cider, Dean shrugged. “Yeah, sure, alright.” Untangling himself from Castiel, he followed Jack across the street, turning back to ask the others, “Any of you want any?”

Castiel nodded. “Yes, please.”

Sam shook his head and Eileen said, “I’m good,” holding up her styrofoam cup of hot chocolate.

Jack waited eagerly at the table where small plastic cups filled with cider were lined up, wisps of steam whisking away in the cold air, and Dean pulled out his wallet, glancing around the square. 

Along the main street stood shops open to the passerby, warm light pouring from the windows. Vendors sold food, warm drinks, and Christmas decorations along the sidewalks. A band played Christmas carols next to the star of the show: a large tree in the middle of the street, ornaments and decorations hanging from its branches, the string lights not yet lit. The whole place could’ve been a Hallmark holiday movie set. The only thing missing to complete the picture was snow, but it was cold enough that Dean didn’t doubt snowflakes would start falling soon.

Paying for two drinks, Dean handed one cup to Jack, who eagerly drank from it. “That’s really good,” he said, nearly draining the cup in one go. Then his eyes widened and he pointed to another table down the sidewalk. “They’re selling gingerbread cookies!”

“You need to get a job,” Dean said. “You’re gonna spend up all our money.”

“I do have a job, Dean, I run the universe.” Jack smiled at him over his cup.

Dean swatted the pom pom on Jack’s beanie. “Don’t get cocky.”

“Cas, Dean wouldn’t buy me a gingerbread cookie,” Jack called, grinning at Dean as they crossed the street back to the group. Castiel raised an eyebrow as Dean handed him the cup of cider.

“Don’t look at me like that,“ Dean said. “If the kid wants one, he can buy his own.”

“It’s Christmas time,” Castiel said. “Don’t be a...” He scrunched up his face as he thought. “Snitch?”  

“Grinch,” Dean said.

“Scrooge would be a better term,” Sam spoke up and Dean gave him a light shove.

“We’ll buy you one later,” Castiel told Jack. “Right, Dean?” He fixed Dean with a look that was incredibly contradictory to his fuzzy blue beanie and mittens wrapped around his cup of cider.

Dean rolled his eyes but wrapped his arms around Castiel’s neck, pulling him back against his chest. “You guys are impossible.” Castiel laughed and Dean kissed his cheek.

The night grew later and colder, the street more crowded. Santa Claus arrived on a firetruck with fanfare. “That’s not very accurate to the lore,” Jack commented, watching Santa Claus wave from his perch on top of the truck. 

“I guess all the reindeer were busy this year,” Dean said and Castiel elbowed him in the side. 

Sam and Eileen went off to look at vendors selling Christmas ornaments. Sitting on the curb, Jack cheerfully ate his gingerbread cookie, and Castiel held onto Dean’s hand, pulling him along the sidewalk to look at the lighted storefronts. “I think we could do this in the bunker’s library,” he said, stopping in front of a window that showcased an elaborate miniature town, complete with a main square, a tiny tree of its own, dancing animatronic elves, and a train that cruised around the ensemble.

Dean stared at the display. “That’s, uh, yeah. Um. We could try.”

“Maybe next year.” They started walking back to where Jack sat, and the band struck up a rendition of “White Christmas,” the carol echoing from speakers set up along the sidewalk. Dean watched Santa Claus make his way down the street, waving to children.

Castiel suddenly halted, pulling Dean to a stop. “Dance with me.”

“What?” Dean looked around at the crowds milling in the square, more people gathering every minute as the time for the lighting drew closer.

“Come on,” Castiel insisted, tugging on Dean’s hand. “No one’s watching.”

“There’s plenty of people watching. And nobody else is dancing.”

Rolling his eyes, Castiel asked, “You defeated God, you’ve fought monsters, and you’re afraid of what other people will think?” 

“I ain’t afraid of what other people think,” Dean protested.

“Then prove it.” Castiel pulled him off the sidewalk onto the open street. 

“I hate you,” Dean said, but he wrapped his arms around Castiel’s waist and let Castiel sway them back and forth. 

It was dark out, he reasoned, glancing at the people around them. They were attracting a few smiles, but no one could really see their faces and no one would remember. He hoped so anyway. He didn’t want to gain a reputation as the weird dancing couple. Maybe Jack could erase everyone’s memories.

“Don’t be so stiff,” Castiel said, pulling Dean’s attention back to him. His nose was red from the cold, his eyes bright in the warm light from the lampposts along the sidewalks. “Get in the holiday spirit, Dean.”

“I am in the holiday spirit!” And, to prove it, he pulled Castiel as close as they could get in their winter coats and kissed him, Castiel's nose cold against his.

Sam and Eileen returned, a grin on Sam’s face, and Dean glared at them over Castiel’s shoulder. “Shut it.”

“You guys are adorable,” Eileen teased, and Sam pulled out his phone to take a photo.

Dean flipped him off behind Castiel’s back. “Eileen,” he said. “How can I sign to Sam, ‘I’ll strangle you with that scarf you’re wearing?’”

Eileen laughed. “We need photo evidence!”

Dean rolled his eyes, but, letting go of Castiel, he spun him around. "If you're gonna get a photo, get a good one," he said. Castiel laughed and pressed up close to him again.

The crowd started counting down from ten, and Dean and Castiel paused in dancing to look at the tree. At one, the tree burst into light, a star at the top twinkling, colored lights flashing around the tree’s branches.

“Wow,” Jack said in awe, craning his neck back to look at the entire tree. Then he glanced at them with a smile on his face and snapped his fingers. Instantly, snow flurries began falling to the ground all around them.

“Did you do that?” Dean asked, as the crowds oohed and aahed.

Jack nodded and put a finger to his lips. “Shh.”

“Thank you, Jack,” Castiel said, wrapping his arms around Dean.

Dean gazed up at the dizzying swirl of snowflakes falling from the sky. “A Holly Jolly Christmas,” echoed around the square. Lowering his gaze back to Castiel, Dean grinned and wiped a snowflake from Castiel’s face with his gloved hand.

“Merry Christmas, he said.

“Merry Christmas, Dean,” Castiel replied with a smile and kissed him in the glow of the Christmas tree.

Tag List

@becky-srs @xojo @marvelnaturalock @aelysianmuse @prayedtoyou @letsjustdieeveryone @good-things-do-happen-dean @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @theninthdutchessofhell @madronasky @famouspsychicpizzabandit @multifandomdisorder @dean-you-assbutt-cas-loves-you @arcticfox007 @gmos-winter-wonderland @celestialcastiel @improvedpeanut @castiel-is-a-cat

Let me know (message, ask, comment) if you’d like to be tagged in my other destiel fics or removed from the list :)

[chowtrolls]

Closure

Length: 1498 Words TW: Gay Brief: Magnus returns to Romune. Think its the end? Think again. There’s one more after this. And then we’ll be back to regularly scheduled Bruposting.  Credits: All belong to me  Here’s the song I listened to while writing this!

Google Docs link for easier Viewing!

Romune told himself he was fine. But was he really? Absolutely not. He ended up telling Visper he needed a few nights off to recover. He blamed the phantom pains. She believed him. The pains had been bad as well, but they didn't hurt as much as his pusher did. Romune found himself growing more distraught by the minute. It was easy to fake pain to get out of work and mope at hive. 

It was a few days later, and he was still feeling a little funky. He had tried his best. Made tea, put on a movie, and had gotten comfortable on his couch. His lusus laid on the floor in front of him. The hive was still and silent. The movie was muted, leaving Romune to mill in his thoughts. 

Romune's lusus perked her head up from where she laid. A low growl rumbled in her throat. That usually meant someone was standing outside, either delivering mail or food. But Romune hadn't ordered food, and the mail had already been delivered! Slowly, the blueblood stood up and made his way to the door. He had to duck slightly in order to look through the peephole.

Did Magnus always look so scared? Wasn’t he a Fleet Troll? Why exactly did the poor man look like he had just seen a ghost while standing outside Romune’s door? Romune glanced over his shoulder at his lusus and shrugged slightly. The old Hyena whined and rested her head back down on her paws, but her tail thumped against the side of the couch. 

That was a good enough answer for Romune. He looked back through the peephole one last time before unlocking the door. If Magnus wanted in, then he could come in. Otherwise, this was Romune giving him another chance to leave without any questions asked. Romune returned to his spot on the couch. He picked up his mug and held it between his hands while he waited. 

It felt like forever before the door finally opened. Romune looked up from his mug to watch Magnus slowly open the door. The purpleblood shut the door behind him. Then he just stood there, eyes resting on Romune. It was borderline uncomfortable. Romune let the man stand there in shock before he inched over, and patted the spot next to him. He set his mug down on the end table as Magnus made his way over. 

“You look like you’ve seen the Messiahs and they told you what you never wanted to hear.” Romune chuckled softly as he spoke. Magnus finally took a seat next to Romune, crossing his arms over his chest awkwardly. 

“I don’t believe in the Messiahs.” Magnus responded after a moment, voice small. He looked down at HyenaMom, who had moved closer to him. He leaned down to scratch the special spot behind her ear and cracked a smile when she tilted her head into his hand. He muttered something about itchy ears. 

“I feel like I knew that.” Romune replied. He tapped on his metal jaw as he thought. The hive was still save for the soft thump of HyenaMom’s tail wagging and the gentle tink tink tink of Romune tapping his jaw. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot. I know more than I did when you first showed up.” 

“Really?” Magnus turned his head to look at Romune while he continued to pet HyenaMom, “And what do you know?” 

"I know you like beasts. But that's a given," Romune paused to gesture at Magnus petting his lusus, "And coffee. I figured that out when I realized the various coffee I had in my hive wasn't for me. I don't always enjoy it- i usually prefer tea. But the coffee was for you." 

"I never realized you didn't like coffee." 

"That's another thing!" Romune clasped his hands together cheerfully, "I remember making myself drink coffee the same way you did. I can't remember if it was to impress you, to make you like me, or because I wanted to get in your thinkpan. Maybe all three!"

"That must've sucked. I like coffee black." Magnus finally stopped petting HyenaMom's ear and sat upright. The lusus whined softly, but got comfortable at his feet. “How exactly are you remembering things?” 

“It’s a process.” Romune set his hands in his lap as he spoke, “Sometimes I remember bits and pieces, and then just piece them together like a puzzle.A lot of it is fuzzy. It kind of feels like watching someone else’s life.” Romune didn’t know what prompted him to be so honest with Magnus. He realized admitting this was like admitting the man Magnus knew was officially dead. But it felt wrong to lie to him. 

“Do you ever feel like you’re a different troll now?” Magnus leaned back against the couch, stretching an arm over the back behind Romune. “Who are you, really?” 

The question shook Romune more than he’d care to admit. He had to think for a moment. His gaze settled on his hands in his lap while the thoughts floated in this head. The silence in the air wasn’t awkward, but it was heavy. Magnus expected a specific answer. And Romune wasn’t sure he could give it. His expression went serious before he looked back to Magnus. 

“I’m Romune Iscatu, former lead engineer at the Ma’bina Ship dock for the Fleet, current intern and apprentice under Doctor Milago. I don’t remember everything about who I used to be, no. But I know who I am. I am Romune; and I choose kindness every day of my life. I enjoy going on walks and apple cider. I know that’s not the Romune you used to know. But if you’re looking for the Romune with the hollow eyes and the scruffy face, then you’re too late.” Romune spoke firmly, sitting up straight, “If who I am now bothers you, then you know where the door is.” 

Magnus was silent. 

“Who are you, Magnus? You aren’t the man I used to know- the man I used to love. Do you even know who you are?” Romune’s tone softened as he continued, “What kept you alive all this time? What drove you to keep trying?” 

With the arm not behind Romune, Magnus reached over and patted the other’s thigh gently, “That’s a conversation for another day, my dear Moon.” 

“I haven’t heard that name in some time.” Romune leaned back against the couch. He seemed to be settled now. Magnus hadn’t left. That was a good sign, right? 

“I used to say there were three moons in my life- and only one I adored. You would get so huffy and complain I was being cheesy.” Magnus smiled slightly as he reminisced. 

“I remember that.” Romune didn’t force himself to smile but the delight was present in his eyes. He turned slightly so he could face Magnus and rest his head against the other troll’s arm. 

“Tell me more about what you remember.”

“Bits and pieces. Like I said. I remember...faces but never names…” Romune continued, pausing occasionally as he spoke. He cherished the memories he had. Eventually, the conversation shifted from his memories to the book he was currently reading. It was an old romance novel he had uncovered in one of his mysterious boxes. Romune explained the setting, some of the background, but he was very jumpy in his explanations. It reminded Magnus of the times before they were separated. 

Magnus watched Romune closely while the blueblood rambled on. He sure did talk a lot when he wanted to. After letting Romune go on for some time, he set his hand down on the blueblood's thigh. Romune stopped abruptly to look down at his hand. He turned his gaze back to Magnus with a puzzled expression. 

“Moon, shut up. Please." Magnus smiled slightly, tone light-hearted and playful. 

Romune quirked a brow, "Did you really just tell me to shut up, Magnus? What, were we pitch and you just never felt the need to tell me?" Despite his words, Romune's tone was just as playful. 

"No, but we're about to be if you don't stop talking about books." Magnus retorted as he leaned in a bit closer.

Romune's brows furrowed. A terrible, no good plot had been devised. What ever happened to being over it, Romune? You weren't supposed to care anymore. But the mysterious glint in Magnus' eyes drew him in. He leaned in closer to Magnus, staring him down. Daring him to act. This could go many ways, Romune was very aware of this. 

"Make me." 

Magnus cupped the side of Romune's face and closed the gap between them. His lips pressed into Romune's with a desperate hunger. Romune melted into the kiss. And he kissed Magnus; he kissed the man like he would never see him again. They kissed. And they kissed, and they kissed, and they kissed. 

Romune kissed him back, like they were the last two trolls on Alternia.

[ambssssssssss]

The Swan-Mills Family Discovers Kingdom Hearts

Part 1 of ?

I don't go here but anyway

One day, after the last curse is broken by True Love's Kiss shared between Emma and Regina, the two of them are at the Mills household with a tumbler of apple cider split between them debating on letting Snow plan them a huge extravagant wedding or just sneaking off to the courthouse one day, when Henry comes home. He's absolutely buzzing with excitement as he walks straight into the den and turns on his PS4 (he's probably more than a little spoiled by now, which annoys Regina to no end but he's still her little prince so she actually doesn't mind all that much) without so much as a hello to his mothers.

Emma and Regina follow him and blink curiously as the opening credits for a game they don't recognize begins to play. The style is a little outdated but it looks like the animation had been updated recently based on Emma's very limited video game knowledge. Curious, Regina picks up the case the game came in and turns it over in her hands.

"Kingdom Hearts?" She reads the title aloud, her inflection morphing as the words change into a question. Henry hums.

"I know everyone is pretty tired of the fairytale thing but I couldn't resist getting this. It looked like so much fun."

"I don't really think we can get tired of fairytales considering the fact that we're living one," Emma says, but her curiosity is peaked and she seats herself on the arm of the couch next to Regina. "But this game is about fairytales?"

"Kinda. It's hard to explain Ma," Henry eyes don't leave the screen as he sets the brightness, difficulty level, and controller vibration intensity. "But there's a ton of save slots if you want to play too."

"We'll just watch for now kid," Emma tells him , absently rubbing Regina's back with one hand. Henry nods and presses the button to start the game.

The family of three all find themselves almost immediately engrossed in the story of the game. The beginning is a little slow, though the choices and questions are interesting. Henry had accepted the staff and given up the sword, leaving the shield alone. The Heartless, the enemies Henry had to defeat, were actually pretty cute. At least, they were until an enormous, shadowy figure of the main character, Sora, appeared. Henry made a few comments on how the fighting style would improve as Sora gained more skills but Regina was more interested in the surface the character stood on. Each one depicted a different princess and Regina wondered what they might symbolize.

Another round of questions and Henry was told that his journey began at dawn and then the game finally, truly began. As Henry directs Sora to explore the place called Destiny Islands, Emma repositions herself so she's sitting on the couch cushion instead of on the arm. Regina settles against Emma's side with her legs tucked underneath her and her head against Emma's shoulder as they continue to watch. Henry, seated on the other end of the couch closer to the television, is leaving forward with the controller in his hands. His brow is furrowed in concentration as he races against Riku, for the 7th time, and loses again. Emma has to hold in a chuckle as Henry groans and begins the race again. Regina is relaxed in her arms and if not for the way she had maneuvered their hands together and was absently playing with Emma's fingers, Emma would have thought she had dozed off. Henry let out a little cheer as he finally beat Riku in the race and the family watched the next cutscene with interest. There seemed to be quite the mystery to solve, people in strange robes, and even the makings of a love triangle between Sora, Riku, and Kairi.

By the time Emma remembered that they were supposed to meet up with her parents for dinner like they did every Tuesday, Henry had already beaten the huge shadow figure for a second time, gotten a weapon called the Keyblade, and was wondering around a world called Twilight Town after a long cutscene that revealed more familiar Disney characters in the game. Thankfully, these were characters that Emma was certain were just fictional. She had no idea what she would do if she ever met a real Donald Duck or Goofy.

"Time's up, kid. We've gotta meet you're grandparents for dinner." Emma called when Henry found a save point and he groaned good naturedly but complied. After donning shoes and jackets, the Swan-Mills family made their way to Granny's diner chatting about the game.

"I think we should restrict this to a non-school night game," Regina commented as they stepped through the door to Granny's. Charming and Snow had already claimed a table for the whole family so they made their way over. "Clearly it is easy to lose track of time playing this."

That was an understatement. Regina and Emma hadn't noticed the hours passing, three of them to be exact, and they were only watching Henry play.

"What's this?" Snow asked curiously after pulling each of then into a hug one by one. Charming did the same for Emma and Regina but traded a fist bump with Henry instead as Emma greeted her baby brother.

"A new game Henry is playing," Regina answered as they all took their seats again.

Henry launched into a startlingly in depth run down of how the game came into existence, its reputation of having a hopelessly convoluted storyline, several branch off games that were not necessary to play but would fill in a lot of gaps outside the two main games, and the much anticipated release of the third game in the main franchise, Kingdom Hearts III.

"Sounds interesting," Charming said after Henry finished his long winded explanation and began to devour his food. Regina was glad that the explanation was over if only so Henry could eat his food while it was still somewhat warm. "And it's about fairytale characters?"

"Sort of. The game was developed by Square Enix but they collaborated with Disney for this. Most of the characters are either from Disney or another video game series called Final Fantasy."

Snow asked about the plot of the game but Henry shrugged his shoulders. In it's most basic form, the game was simply about light versus dark, good versus evil. Henry didn't know how much this game would delve into the shades of grey between good and evil but he was eager to find out.

"You'll have to let us know how the game goes," Snow said after they finished their meal and were walking out. Henrt nodded enthusiastically as he gave his grandmother a parting hug.

"I thinks its gonna be awesome," Henry said as he pulled away. Then he looked over his shoulder at his moms and smiled his most charming smile. "Even if nothing can be as great as your story."

Emma chuckled. "Nice try kid, but you're not getting extra game time tonight."

"As soon as we get home its homework, shower, then bed. You have school tomorrow," Regina completed, taking Emma's hand in her own as they walked out.

Charming laughed as Henry shrugged his shoulders, "Worth a shot."

The Swan-Mills family walked back to Mifflin street and Henry, as instructed, grabbed his bookbag and went up to his room to complete his homework for the night as his moms retreated to the study to finish the cider they had started earlier.

"He's right you know," Emma commented sometime later from her spot on the couch in the study. Regina, sitting at her desk and reviewing a few documents she would need for a meeting the next day, looked up curiously.

"What are you talking about darling?"

"Henry," Emma rose from the couch and made her way to Regina's side as she spoke. "He was right about us. No story will ever be better than ours."

"He was sucking up so we would let him play more video games," Regina rolled her eyes but still put the papers she was reviewing down in favor of pushing away from the desk and pulling Emma down into her lap.

"Doesn't mean he was wrong," Emma placed her arms around Regina's shoulders, one hand tangling in long, dark hair as the other caressed Regina's cheek.

"I suppose so," Regina tilted her head back slightly to look Emma in the eyes. "As long as our story has a happy ending, I think it will be the best one ever told."

"Our story has the happiest ending of all because it's not an ending. It's a beginning. The beginning of us."

Emma leaned down and kissed Regina then, slowly and surely and with the confidence that she'd get to do so every day for the rest of her life. As Regina poofed them up to their bedroom in a cloud of light purple magic, videogames could not have been further from Emma's mind.

[hunnywrites]

We Fell In Love In October: Part Two

Summary: Billy and Teddi celebrate Halloween in 1986.

A/N: One chapter left! I’m officially dedicating this series to the guy in front of me in line at Horror Nights the other night that had a mullet, was chewing on a toothpick and telling his girlfriend how weird she was for being so scared to go into the haunted houses. Being stuck behind those two through the Us house was something special. He scared her more than any of the actors. So this is for you, real life Billy Hargrove. Even if you were wearing crocs. 

It was late when Billy and Teddi left the movies the next night. They’d had a bit of a lazy day so far. They woke up around noon and made pancakes for breakfast (technically Billy did. He actually knew how to cook while Teddi was still learning not to burn everything). Teddi talked him into driving back into town for more hot apple cider and getting some candy for trick or treaters from Melvald’s before the movie It was still a weird feeling to step into the little convenience store and not see Joyce Byers. Teddi tried not to think about it. 

It had been an entire year now since the Byers’ and El had moved out of Hawkins. While most things had gone back to normal (or as normal as things could be in Hawkins), thinking about all of the people who weren’t around anymore made Teddi’s heart ache. She missed El, Will and Joyce. Even Johnathan. 

Now Billy had his arm thrown around Teddi’s shoulders as they made their way through the main lobby. The teens working there were closing the snack bar down for the night. “I think that’s probably the worst movie you’ve ever made me watch, Larsson. And you’ve shown me some shit storms.” Billy tossed his now empty bucket of popcorn away before opening the door for Teddi. 

It had been a really bad movie. So bad Teddi was a little surprised it had even made it to theaters and not gone straight to video. “...At least you got to see the girls topless a few times.” she offered with a small, sheepish smile as the pair made their way to the Camaro. Teddi pulled Billy’s denim jacket tighter around herself to try and keep warm. 

Billy shot her a look. “Those definitely didn’t look like any sorority chicks I’ve ever seen.” he muttered, sliding into the driver’s seat. 

Teddi rolled her eyes and smiled at him. Leave it to Billy to complain about seeing naked chicks. “The sorority chicks you’ve seen are porn stars playing dress up in Hustler.” she argued. He didn’t say anything. 

“...Whatever. I’m picking the movie next time.” he muttered. That meant they’d be seeing some mindless action movies with lots of explosions. Teddi held in a groan at the idea. The last one hadn’t been so bad, but that was only because Kurt Russell had been in it. 

TeddI threw her legs over Billy’s lap and let out a loud sigh. “If you insist...wait a second, where are we going?” she asked. Billy was driving in the opposite direction of their little house. Everything in town was closed for the night. And Billy hadn’t mentioned anything about having any other plans after the movies. 

Billy’s hand was resting on Teddi’s leg, his thumb absently rubbing at her ankle. “I just wanted to check something out.” he said cooly. There was a mischievous smirk twitching at his lips that made Teddi’s stomach do a flip. Nothing good ever happened when he got that look. But Teddi would play along for now. At least until she saw how stupid whatever he had planned was. 

Eventually Teddi started to realize that they were headed back to their old neighborhood. Billy turned onto Cherry Road, and Teddi’s face screwed up into a confused frown. She pulled her legs from Billy’s lap, leaning forward as if somehow that would help her figure out what he had planned. He drove past the house he’d lived in with Neil and Susan. Neil’s car was in the driveway and the lights inside were off. Teddi couldn’t stop squirming in her seat. Billy didn’t even glance in the house’s direction as he passed. 

Teddi let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding in when the house was no longer in sight. “What’s wrong?” Billy asked. Teddi could hear hear teasing grin. “Don’t wanna visit the in laws?” 

She let out a laugh. “Oh fuck off. That’s not funny,” she playfully shoved him. Billy laughed. “And they’re not my in laws.” she said, holding up her hand and moving her bare ring finger. At some point they’d jokingly started referring to Neil and Susan as Teddi’s in laws. Mostly because Neil hated Teddi and Billy seemed to find it funny. 

Billy reached over and took her hand in his. He playfully bit the knuckle of her ring finger before pressing a kiss to it. They didn’t ever talk about getting married. It was too soon for either of them. While they didn’t see themselves ending up with anyone else, Billy would only be twenty next month and Teddi was still a teenager. They had all the time in the world for things like that. 

“Will you please tell me where we’re going?” Teddi asked, beginning to get restless. 

“Will you please be patient?” he teased. Teddi let out a loud huff and crossed her arms, sinking down in her seat. There was no breaking Billy when he had a surprise planned. In all reality she hadn’t had to wait that long. Another ten minutes and Billy pulled up into the driveway of a house that looked like it hadn’t been touched in decades. He didn’t give any clue as to why they were there. He only looked over at Teddi, that mischievous smirk back, and shut the Camaro off.  

“Uh...you do know we have our own house to fool around in, right?” she asked, attempting to joke to cover up how confused she was. 

Billy rolled his eyes. “That’s not what this is. Although if you wanna I’m not gonna complain,” he smirked. “I heard about this place from the guys at work. They said this family lived here, back in the 50’s. All of this weird shit started happening after they moved in, I guess. But one night, the oldest brother wakes up, picks up a gun and takes his whole family out. He says the devil made him do it. It’s supposed to be haunted now.” he explained, his voice low. 

Teddi looked at Billy and the up to the large, two story house before them. “Wow...that’s scary,” she said blankly. Billy frowned. “That’s also totally just the Amityville Horror.” 

“Wait, what? The hell is that?” he asked with an annoyed expression.

“It’s a total classic! Have you never seen it?” she didn’t know why she asked. Of course he hadn’t. “It’s based off a true story. The house was like two towns over from where I grew up, but I was always too scared to go see it.” she said with a small laugh.

“...Shit,” Billy muttered. “I was kinda hoping it was true,” Teddi raised an eyebrow. Billy rolled his eyes. “Not that they died, but that it was haunted.”

“Are you forgetting what happened the last time you went into an abandoned building?” another question she didn’t need to ask. Neither of them would ever forget what happened to Billy in that steel mill.

Billy gripped the steering wheel and let out an annoyed scoff. “C’mon, Ted. I’ve done all of your Halloween shit. Let’s just check it out. What’s the worst thing that can happen?” Teddi could think of an endless list of horrible things that might happen. But he was right. He’d been a good sport. And it wasn’t like the place was actually haunted. She could give it a go. 

“Fine, let’s go ghost hunting, Venkman.” she teased as she slid out of the Camaro.

“Who the hell is Venkman?”

“It’s from Ghostbusters, you nerd.”

“Oh I’m the nerd?” Billy asked with a laugh. The pair walked cautiously through the overgrown front lawn and up to the front door. The red paint was cracked and peeling. The tiny windows were so grimy they couldn’t peek through them to see inside. Billy was a little reluctant to touch the rusted over knob. He turned it slowly. It was locked. “Shit. Looks like we’re finding another way in then.” he took a step back from the porch and surveyed the outside of the house for a moment.

Teddi shifted uncomfortably on the porch. The wood was starting to rot. Each plank of wood creaked loudly with every step to the point where Teddi was a little worried she might fall through. “You mean breaking and entering?” she asked. 

“It’s abandoned. Me and my friends used to hang out in abandoned spots all the time back in California.” Billy waved her worries away and headed around to the side of the house. Teddi followed behind him. 

“...Didn’t you guys get arrested like four times for trespassing?” 

Billy ignored the question. He shoved one of the windows open, turning back to Teddi with a proud look as he wiped his hands on the back of his pants. “See? It’s unlocked. So technically we’re just entering.” he offered.

“I don’t know why I keep letting you talk me into this kinda shit. It’s probably not even haunted.” Teddi muttered. Billy leaned down, linking his fingers together to give her a boost inside. They’d done this so many times over the years it was almost like a muscle memory. 

Billy smirked. “Come on, Weird Girl. I’ve talked you into stuff that’s way more fun than this.” Teddi let out a squeak as his hand met her ass harshly as she crawled through the window. She could feel her cheeks burning. 

“You could have killed me,” she said dramatically after she landed inside with a thud. “I could’ve broken my neck or something.” the rest of her teasing lecture was cut off as she turned to take the house in. She regretted coming in. It was still fully furnished. Everything was covered in dust and cobwebs, so much to the point where Teddi had a hard time imagining what anything had looked like when the house had people living in it. It was like whoever had lived there had just run off. Bolted in the middle of the night and never returned. She felt a little chill up her spine. 

She jumped a little when Billy pulled himself inside, his boots landing loudly on the wooden floors. “What’s the matter, Ted?” he asked with a smile. “Scared?” he reached around her, fingers tickling her side.

Teddi slapped his hand away. “No. You just startled me is all…” it wasn’t really much of a shock to Billy that Teddi believed in ghosts or that she was easily spooked by them. 

Billy grinned over at his girlfriend, his arms snaking around her waist and pulling him to her. “Come on, Ted. You said it yourself that it’s probably not haunted.” he buried his face in her neck, his breath tickling Teddi’s neck. 

“That was before I got the total Neibolt street vibes from this place. I can’t believe we haven’t gotten eaten by a killer clown yet,” she muttered. Billy let out a chuckle, pulling away from her and linking their fingers together as he pulled her towards the stairs. “Did someone actually die here?” she asked, unable to keep herself from constantly looking over both shoulders. 

He only shrugged. “How should I know? I bought that Amityville shit. Kinda creepy that everything’s still here though, huh?” that was an understatement. Teddi was scared that they’d stumble across some gruesome, decades old crime scene that hadn’t been cleaned up. Her other hand reached up to grab Billy’s arm as they ascended the stairs. 

There were some framed family photos on the walls upstairs. There were a few knick knacks, photos and a vase that was full of decaying flowers that filled Teddi’s nose with a sweet but sort of musty smell as they passed by. There were cigarette butts and beer cans littering the hallway. They looked relatively new, she realized with a wave of dread. Was someone inside with them right now? Watching them walk the halls? 

“If someone ends up murdering us I’m going to fucking kill you.” Teddi muttered. Billy only laughed. She wasn’t kidding. 

He pulled away from her and headed into one of the rooms. “Look, babe. It’s not that bad. No blood splatters, no headless bodies, just...a lot of fucking dust.” Teddi hated how amusing he found all of this. She felt like she was in a crypt. But Teddi followed after him anyways. It was better to be with Billy and his fucked up sense of humor than out in the hall alone.

“If I say I have asthma, can we go home?” she asked, wriggling her nose at all of the dust and god only knew what else was floating around. 

“Oh, you have asthma now?” he asked with a grin. 

“..Ye- did you hear that?” there was definitely something downstairs. There was a loud thump, like something had fallen over. And Billy had heard it too. His head snapped back towards the doorway and his expression had gone all serious. It did absolutely nothing to calm her nerves. 

Billy stepped out in front of Teddi, holding his arm out to shield as if he was expecting something to charge at the both of them. “...I’m gonna go check it out. You stay here.” it wasn’t a suggestion. And Teddi didn’t really want to argue, but she also didn’t want to let him go downstairs where some headless ghost was going to kill him.

So she counted to sixty in her head before she followed after him. The house had gone completely silent. She couldn’t hear the heavy footsteps of Billy’s boots on the rotting floorboards. Only her own. Teddi swallowed thickly as she slowly moved through the house looking for her boyfriend. “...Billy?” she called cautiously before stepping into the kitchen. No answer.

The window above the sink was broken. Maybe that had been the noise she had heard? Maybe some kids were breaking in, hoping to see ghosts like Billy? But she was alone. No sign of Billy or any teens. She immediately started to fear for the worst. “Billy this isn’t funny, okay? If you’re hiding can you just come out? Take me home? ..I’ll do one of your gross sex things!” still no answer. Teddi let out a huff. 

Teddi walked out of the kitchen and into what she assumed must have been a sitting room. There was a fireplace big enough for her to stand in, and an old, dusty piano sitting in front of it. Teddi nervously fiddled with two of the piano’s keys, the sharp, out of tune notes sending a chill up her spine. 

There was another thud. And a sound like something was being dragged. Teddi gulped. She shifted from foot to foot. This was definitely a predicament. If she went looking for whatever was making the sound she’d be killed like all of those idiot girls in horror movies. You never went after strange noises and you never asked who was there. But that dragging sound...what if something had gotten Billy? 

Teddi’s hands clenched into fists at her sides, her shoulders straight and her head held high. Fuck horror movie rules, she decided. She headed back to the living room where she and Billy had broken in earlier. She was sure that’s where she’d heard the thud coming from. Out of the corner of her eye she saw movement behind the couch. Something else moved quickly past the doorway. Already she was outnumbered. 

“Bil-” whatever was behind the couch had sprung up, yelling loudly at Teddi. She screamed, instinctively throwing a punch out in front of her. 

“Christ, Teddi!” it was Steve Harrington. He was wearing some stupid skeleton mask. Steve groaned loudly, slowly peeling the mask off and grabbing his nose. It was bleeding.

“Steve? What the hell are you doing here?” she spat. Suddenly there was laughter behind her. Teddi whipped around, glaring at Billy and Robin who were both laughing so hard it looked like they could barely keep themselves upright. 

Steve plopped down onto the couch and tilted his head back to try and stop the bleeding. “You said we were gonna scare her,” he whined. “You didn’t say anything about my nose being broken!”

Robin rolled her eyes, making her way over to her best friend and slapping his hands away from his face. She looked at him for a moment before shaking her head. “It’s not broken, drama queen. She just got you good. Nice shot, Teddi. I’m glad I didn’t lose rock, paper, scissors.” she clapped Teddi on the shoulder before sitting next to Steve.

“Is someone gonna tell me what the fuck is going on?” Teddi asked, glaring over at Billy. He was still laughing a little bit. 

“Don’t look at me,” Steve said, his voice thick as he pinched his nose shut. “This was all his idea.” he jabbed his thumb in Billy’s direction. She didn’t really need Steve to tell her that. Of course it had been Billy’s idea. 

Billy wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Come on, Ted. It’s just a little Halloween fun.” he said with a smirk. If looks could kill, Billy would have been dead. 

“I think you’re sleeping on the couch tonight, Goldielocks.” Robin said with a snort. 

Teddi shrugged Billy’s arm off. “Was any of this true? The whole house being haunted thing? Grisly murders? Ghost hunting?”

Steve had finally managed to get his nose to stop bleeding. “What? No. The family that lived here stopped paying their taxes and ditched the place. Kids come here to smoke weed and hook up. I’ve been coming here for like...ever and I’ve never seen a ghost.” 

“If he had he was probably too stoned to realize.” Robin said as the two broke out into quiet giggles. 

Teddi turned to look at Billy and crossed her arms tightly over her chest. “So you lied, drove me all the way out here, and had Steve scare me? For a joke?”

Billy shifted uncomfortably. “...I mean, when you put it like that I sound like a dick.”

“You are.” Steve and Robin both said. 

“Oh, you have no idea what’s coming for you, Hargrove,” Teddi said, jabbing him in the chest. “I’m gonna get you back. And you’re not gonna know when. It can be tomorrow or five years from now-”

“Come on, Teddi, it was a joke.” Billy urged. 

Robin groaned. “Let it go already. You totally deserve whatever’s coming. Can we go now?” 

“Yeah. Billy promised us beer and horror movies, remember? You were all come on, dude, it’ll be fun! We’ll scare her and then we can hang out!” Steve said, mocking Billy’s voice. 

Billy held up his hands. “Yeah, yeah. I remember. Just get outta here, alright? We’ll meet you there,” the message was heard loud and clear. Robin and Steve shared a look, pushing themselves up off of the couch and passing by Teddi and Billy. Robin patted Teddi on the shoulder as she went. “Teddi…” Billy started once they were alone. 

Teddi fixed a stern look his way. “I was worried. I was down here thinking of all of the horrible things that might have happened to you. I thought something had like eaten you or something!” 

Billy approached her slowly, gently taking her wrists into his hands and pulling her to him. She didn’t fight it, but she didn’t lean into him like he had been hoping. “It was a joke,” he repeated. “C’mon Doll, don’t be pissed at me.” Billy only broke out Doll when he was really in trouble (which Teddi had to admit really wasn’t very often).

Teddi wrapped her arms around his neck, smiling up at him. “It’s fine. I was just pulling your leg.” 

Billy let out a sigh of relief. “So are we even?”

“Are you kidding? Fuck no,” Billy groaned. “You know, I don’t know what I’m more offended by. You planning all of this, or the fact that you didn’t ask me to scare Steve instead.” 

Billy scratched the back of his neck. “...I guess I thought you’d think it was funny.” he admitted. 

“I mean...it was, I guess. But if you do it again I’m dumping your ass.” 

He let out a small chuckle and nodded. “Deal...and we can still scare the shit out of Harrington tonight if you want. He’s on our turf.”

Teddi let out a snort. “I’ll think about it. Let’s go, West Side Story. I wanna get out of this dump.” she took Billy by the hand and pulled him towards the front door. 

“Hey, wait. Were you serious about the sex stuff earlier?”

“In your dreams, Hargrove.”  

[pizzahorse]

Days Grow Colder, We Grow Warmer

Title: Days Grow Colder, We Grow Warmer

Description: Webby and Lena go to a local cider mill, and examine both pumpkins and feelings.

[Read on AO3]

Weblena Week Prompt  Day 6: Spooky

@weblenaweek

Spooky with bonus Date because I didn’t manage anything for that day! Also turned out not so spooky.

Thanks to @soup-du-silence for its the most wonderful time of the year, which inspired this, although moreso with the they went to the cider mill version from Twitter. That wasn’t an excuse to link both in order to make the RB/RT ability easier. You’re welcome.

It was… weird, coming into life fully formed, knowing things she wasn't sure how she knew, like how to walk and talk and that food was necessary for survival and a host of other things. But there was so much she didn't know, like holiday traditions and the dynamics of a real family. She just sort of woke up one day, without any memories of her own, imbued with the image of someone she'd never met (Scrooge McDuck) but for some reason wanted to destroy.

All of that was gone, and Lena de Spell was left with new and fresh memories. Magica, defeated. Her body, returned. Webby, in good health and high spirits. Everything was right in the world, for the first time in her life. Not just pretend right, but right right. No more watching what she said or where she went or who she formed relationships with. No more hiding. No more running.

It was fitting that the first real holiday Lena would have chance to celebrate was Halloween.

She even got into the autumn mood with a slight appearance change, swapping out her faded pink tips for orange, to match the season. The change had been a surprise, biggest of all to Webby, who had gotten used to the familiarity of Lena always being the same. But maybe, they were changing, and growing, like the current season brought change and growth to the world.

The change had resulted in a conversation about holiday customs, wherein Webby had detailed at length several common traditions, like trick or treating, pumpkin carving, pranking, and lots of seasonal baked goods from Mrs. Beakley. The last two were, unsurprisingly, Lena's favorites. Or what she suspected would be her favorites, since she had never participated in any holiday customs.

When Webby learned of this fact, she decided to rectify it immediately, which meant a trip to the local cider mill was in order. She offered to let the boys come along, but they mentioned something about not wanting to spoil her date. This wasn't a date, because a date would mean just her and Lena going somewhere, alone, and if the boys weren't going then… Oh.

But that was silly, neither of them had said this was a date, and she and Lena had done plenty of date-like activities before, which were totally and definitely not dates, because that would imply that they were something more than friends. Lena had previously kept Webby at arm's length, for fear that Magica might harm her, but now that threat was completely null and was there really anything stopping this from being a date, other than the fact that it had not been deemed as such?

Maybe Lena wasn't the dating type, maybe she didn't have feelings for Webby in that way. Maybe those were just irrational fears that held Webby back from even asking, "Is this a date?" as they rode along in the back of the limo, an unusual air of quiet surrounding them.

Lena, normally someone who could not get enough quiet, but simultaneously could not get enough of Webby's voice, noticed the penetrating silence. She would have expected the space between them to be full of visions of whatever awaited them at this "cider mill." Descriptions of activities, plans for the day, that sort of thing, but there was nothing.

Several times Lena almost asked what was wrong, then shut her beak again. She wanted to ask, to know what was bothering her friend, and do what she could to make things better. At the same time, if something bad had happened that Webby was trying to forget, Lena didn't want to dredge it up again.

So she stared out the window, while Webby grasped fistfuls of her skirt in her palms and stole glances at her best friend. Both oblivious to the feelings of the other, which could have easily been resolved by just one of them speaking up. Easier said than done when one was too shy and one was too nervous, or perhaps they both shared a bit of each emotion. It made for great lack of conversation.

However, Webby's mood seemed to improve as their destination came into view. "We're here!" She almost tuck-and-rolled out of the car before it had even stopped, but she knew such an impulsive move would undoubtedly alarm Launchpad. And Lena, temporarily, although very few of Webby's antics surprised her anymore.

So she waited patiently, face pressed to the window, as a familiar barn-looking structure came into view. All worry about date or not date forgotten for the moment, as a flood of happy memories of visiting this same farm with granny rushed into her mind. Now, she could share those same happy memories with Lena.

Webby practically jumped out once the vehicle had stopped moving, and ran off, up the dirt road towards the cider mill. Lena thanked Launchpad for the ride and mentioned they'd call him when they were finished, because technically he was still on-call for Uncle Scrooge.

"Come on!" Webby called over her shoulder, to which Lena hurried up the path after her.

"I'm getting this one!" Webby exclaimed, after they'd both spent several minutes in the pumpkin patch. Mostly Lena just followed Webby as she scurried about, examining gourds, tapping on them to see which were the correct ripeness, making sure there weren't too many blemishes. Although a few odd markings were good for personality, she'd said.

"Can you even carry that?" Lena crossed her arms over her chest amusedly.

"Yes!" Webby hefted the squash above her head. "Which one are you going to get?"

"That whole carving thing sounds really messy and definitely not up my alley."

"You have to get one!" Webby's puppy-dog eyes were almost enough to convince Lena to grab the nearest one. Almost.

"Do I have to carve it?"

"No."

"Do I have to get a big one?"

"No."

"I'll think about it."

Webby looked Lena up and down skeptically. She had hoped that her friend would be as excited as she was about all this. She thought that Lena's first experience with holiday traditions would somehow be magical and wonderful, just as Webby's earliest memories of visiting the cider mill were some of her happiest. Maybe Lena just needed time to get into the spirit of everything.

They tried the corn maze, but even though it changed every year, it was no match for Webby's smarts and they'd made it through in no time. Then they tried a hay ride, which Lena seemed very underwhelmed by. The last activity available was watching some fresh cider be pressed. That seemed to intrigue Lena, a little, probably because it involved a form of destruction. Maybe it was because the result was fresh, hot cider, which Lena had somehow procured two cups of while Webby was full engaged in the pressing process.

The two found some hay bales outside that they could settle onto. Webby set her pumpkin next to herself, then blew on her drink as she stared down into the liquid. Lena mirrored the action, using the paper cup to warm her hands, which always seemed to be cold no matter the weather.

"Are you having fun?" Webby finally prompted, when the cider didn't cool fast enough to occupy her mouth.

Lena glanced over. "You're having fun, right?"

"Yes, but, this was for you."

"Look, I know, Webs, but this isn't quite my style. I like watching you have fun, though. I really do. I may not show it well, but I'm having fun because you're having fun. It's just kind of hard for me to figure out how to show the right emotions. I had to hold back any semblance of feeling for so long, sometimes it still scares me," she tried to take a sip of her cider while she thought of what else to say, which resulted in her burning her beak. "Oh, hey, I got something!" she brightened, remembering her other purchase along with the ciders.

From her sweater pocket she produced something small, white, and roundish. It was a pumpkin, comically small when compared to Webby's, but the shape fit and it was by all accounts, still a pumpkin. "I picked it out. There was a whole basket by the counter. This one seemed the most unique."

So maybe Lena was here mostly because of Webby, but she had still taken the time to pick out her own pumpkin, even if it wasn't large or grand or carvable. And she was smiling as Webby held out her hand to take it, so she could place it atop her own, and Webby noted that it had been Lena's decision to get them the cider. Maybe the activities that she enjoyed weren't the same ones that piqued Lena's interest. They were two very different individuals, after all, and maybe Webby needed to be more considerate about the things Lena would appreciate.

"Is there anything you'd like to do before we head home?"

"Hmm, you know, those cider donuts looked really tasty."

"Yeah, let's get some!" Webby had to admit that Lena was right. She'd also spied the tantalizing offerings as the pair made their way outside, and considered stopping by before they made their departure. It seemed Lena's mind was on the same track.

"You watch the pumpkins and I'll go get us something to eat," Lena offered.

Webby glanced down at her barely touched cider, then down at her pumpkin. She couldn't possibly carry both, and certainly couldn't waste good cider, so much as she wanted to accompany Lena, she had to relent. "Okay. See you soon."

Maybe she should have just asked what Lena liked in the first place. Or maybe it took Lena time to discover what she might like doing or partaking in. Apple cider and small pumpkins and donuts were all such simple parts of the cider mill experience, in Webby's opinion. But perhaps simple suited Lena. She wasn't exactly the grand adventuring type, if Webby really thought about it. More of the inner city party crashing type. So perhaps their styles were different, and they got enjoyment out of different things. They'd still had a fun day together, right?

Her thoughts were interrupted by the return of her friend, with a bag of what appeared to be half a dozen donuts, plus a couple of caramel apples.

"Looks like we can wash these down with that cider," she indicated the apples protruding from the bag with a nod. She promptly sat down next to Webby, passing one to her and beginning to work at her own. Caramel apples always looked delicious, and were delicious, but the actual eating of them was a challenge all its own.

The snacks occupied the two of them for some time, leaving them more or less alone with their thoughts about the cider mill, and each other. Webby finally sipped the last of her cider and suggested they call Launchpad for a pick up, since they'd done everything and it was getting late. Lena idly munched on donuts as they headed for the exit.

They stood at the edge of the dirt road, a fence behind them and a ditch beside them, waiting for Launchpad. Webby set their pumpkins down, because her arms were tired, and because this place was a fair bit outside of Duckburg, so he might be awhile. That gave the two of them time to talk, and for Lena to ask a question that had been in the back of her mind all afternoon.

"You were quiet on the way here. Everything okay, Webs?"

Webby had sort of hoped that Lena hadn't noticed, even though the silence had been, ironically, blaringly obvious. But now came the moment of truth when she could divulge what had really been on her mind, or come up with a clever lie that Lena would inevitably see through anyway.

"Is this a date?"

The initial answer was the crisp crunch of a cider donut as Lena took a bite right at the same moment, then what seemed like a thoughtful pause, followed by a shrug and another bite.

"Do you want it to be a date?"

Gods, she was so calm and casual, still unbothered by anything in the world. But this shouldn't have been casual, this should have been serious. Webby was seriously asking, and here all Lena could offer in return was some sort of an "I don't care either way" attitude. And maybe she didn't care, maybe she didn't feel the need for their relationship to be serious. But it stung Webby, just a little, that Lena didn't care one way or another, because she cared a whole awful lot, not just about the labeling of the thing, but about Lena in general.

But it did pose an interesting question. Did she want this to be a date? Or did the concept exist mostly because she thought it ought to, because the boys had put it into her head, or because she'd known Lena long enough that maybe it's what she thought they should be doing? Had she explored her feelings enough to know, without any doubt, that she wanted this to be a date?

The answer was that yes, she had. She'd thought up so many date possibilities she'd lost count. Considered so many times spouting, "I love you", because the phrase so often popped into her head any time she so much as looked at Lena. Countless nights she'd laid awake and wished that she could forever wake up near her best friend, even when they got older. Yes, she did want this, she'd wanted it so long she couldn't remember a time when she didn't, and now that she had the opportunity, she hesitated. Of all the possible reactions, hesitation. An emphatic "YES!" caught in her throat, maybe because Lena didn't seem all too keen on the prospect.

"Donut for your thoughts?" Lena waved one of the fried rings in front of Webby's face. She'd spaced out.

"I-" I want this to be a date. I wanted to ask you earlier but I chickened out. Have we been on dates before? I remember you holding my hand during the fireworks when we went to the fair last summer, was that a date? Do you want to date me? Would you ever date me? Have you ever dated anyone before? Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods...

"I like girls!" was all Webby managed to spout.

Her face flushed a deep crimson, and she sat down right there on the edge of the road, pulling her legs up to her chest and scooping her arms around them, burying her face in her knees.

Lena placed a half eaten donut back in the bag, and settled down next to Webby, though not close enough to touch. She wasn't great at this whole sympathy thing, after spending so long being hard and cold and defensive, but she was learning to open up and become something akin to warmer towards others.

"That's okay, isn't it? There's nothing wrong with that, Webby. Fuddy duddy tea time better not be teaching you there is. Because if so, she and I are going to have a problem because I like girls too-"

"I like you," Webby lifted her head and placed her chin between her knees.

"I know."

"It's not a problem with granny or Uncle Scrooge or anyone else. It's-"

"-me."

"It's fine if you don't-" Webby swallowed, pushing down the lump in her throat that threatened to swell up and overcome her with emotion, "-feel the same way. I just, need to know what this is. What we are. If there's hope for us. If I should even keep trying at all. Not knowing is torture."

"Aw, geez, Webs," Lena rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly, "I guess I've just been scared about taking the next step. Everything is still so new and fresh for me. I know Magica's gone, but a part of me is still holding on to the fears I held for years. I don't want to put you through the emotional roller coaster that's dominating my life right now. I just want to be a better person when I date you, and I'm not there yet. You're so good and I'm still working on not being so bad. I'm not good enough for you yet."

Webby stared at her friend, long and hard, like she was thinking about something. Then, "Have I ever told you you're not good enough?"

"No, but-"

"Maybe Magica did. Maybe that's why you feel that way. But I don't care about the weight of your bad deeds compared to your good. I don't care what anyone says about you, or about us. I like you just how you are. And I know that things haven't been easy for you, and they're still not perfect. But if you let me, I want to help you work through all the bad things. I don't want to stand by and watch you go it alone. I'm here for you. I always have been. That's true, whether or not we date or become girlfriends or any of that. I'm still your friend. Please let me in."

Lena took a deep breath of the crisp autumn air, breathing in the scents of the farm as dusk fell. She took one hand and wriggled it under one of Webby's, which was still tightly clasped around her knee. But she took the offering, intertwining her fingers with Lena's, their hands held aloft in the space between them.

"I want this to be a date," Lena started. "There were a lot of other times I wanted to be dates, too. I'm just so new at this, not just the dating or relationships thing, but freedom. It's weird not being told what to do all the time. Not having to watch my back. Having someone to watch my back, on the occasion I do need it. Everything's happening so fast. My life used to consist of waiting for one precise moment in time, and now that moment is past and I don't exactly know where to go from here."

"Let the lady lead," Webby gave her hand a light squeeze.

"What?"

"Launchpad is here!"

The ride back was quiet, but happily so, both girls absorbed in their thoughts about the future ahead. They held hands all the way home, until Launchpad dropped them off at the front door while he went to park the limo. Webby carried their pumpkins to the porch and set them down, but refrained from opening the door, instead staring down at her feet while she shuffled them awkwardly.

"You know, sometimes two lovers are supposed to share a kiss on the porch, just out of sight of their parents, before one of them rushes off into the night."

"Are they?" Lena cocked a playful eyebrow, like she'd never heard of such a thing, even though Webby had subjected her to dozens of sappy movies and she knew full well what she was talking about.

"Yes," Webby whispered, and gulped, waiting with bated breath. For once in her life she wanted to be the damsel, to be swept off her feet by a dark and mysterious stranger, but only because she knew who that dark and mysterious stranger was. And she was far from actually being a stranger.

So Lena made a move, because Webby seemed to want her to, and for the first time it actually felt good to make a decision and go through with it, instead of being a follower. She leaned down and pressed their beaks together, light and gentle at first, testing the waters, until Webby grabbed her by the collar and pulled her in even closer, like she couldn't get enough. Clumsy hands grasped at the back of Webby's shirt, because Lena wasn't sure where else they should go, and also, she felt that if something didn't tether her to the earth, she might float away and never come back down.

It ended, too soon for both of them, but this was new and they were young and knew better than to rush this. It was evident that this moment, or something similar to it, had been on their minds for awhile, but the wait had been worth it. Now, they had every day for the rest of their lives to make up for lost time.

"Well, see you around," Lena stepped down off the porch and threw a wink over her shoulder.

"Lena, wait!"

"Yeah?"

"You live here!"

"Right, I was just going to go around back so we could preserve the moment."

Webby giggled at the notion, but appreciated the sentiment. "Come inside, silly."

"Wow, only our first date and I'm already being invited into the lady's home," Lena pretended to be bashful as she put on a faux accent, befitting someone far more prim and proper than she would ever be. "My goodness, what would her grandmother think? Sneaking in a rebellious ruffian after dark. She's liable to get corrupted if she keeps this up!"

"Stop it, get over here!" Webby continued to laugh. It was nice to see Lena being playful, and more relaxed. She seemed to let her guard down more frequently, now that she wasn't under Magica's control, but it was still a rare and welcome sight.

Lena smiled, and even laughed at herself a little, as she joined her friend and entered the house. Although, maybe they weren't just friends anymore, she realized. Maybe they were more. Her chest clenched, old fears rising up, until she realized that maybe she didn't have to be afraid of being more. There was no more Magica. No more shadowy sorceress looming over her. No more being controlled. She had control now, and freedom, the freedom to make her own decisions. She'd been free to kiss Webby just now, and she was free to do it again, and again, and again, as long as Webby was okay with it.

A chill in the air ruffled her feathers just before she stepped inside. Lena might not have been a fortune-teller, but she could predict a lot of evenings that involved her and Webby, huddled close together by the fire, sharing a blanket. Cups of hot cocoa that were supposed to keep them warm, even though their own company did enough of that. Stealing kisses by firelight after everyone had gone to bed. Falling asleep in each other's arms, and dreaming of what their future might be like together.

Lena probably didn't know it, because she wasn't a mind reader, either, but Webby was thinking about the exact same thing, and smiling at such nice thoughts. Maybe it had all been fate, some kind of destiny, that lead to Webby sitting alone on the beach one day not so long ago. Maybe her sense of adventure, her thirst for the unknown, had led her to Lena that same day. Whatever the reason, it didn't matter now. They were together, and safe, and didn't really need anymore than that.

It may not have been a match anyone could have predicted, but they were happy. They made each other happy. Happy in ways neither of them could describe, happy in the simple things and happy in the complex things. They were a complex thing, weren't they? An eccentric, well-off, basically adopted member of the McDuck family, combined with the product of a decades old feud and probably a curse or two. Their meeting, and their relationship, was completely unpredictable. It suited them, and how they preferred life to be. Unpredictable.

[lordberenger]

state of mind

Or: the modern, ex-boyfriends AU no one asked for, ever

read on ao3

Laurent shouldn’t have come.

He knew this the moment he stepped through the door. He took a second to be bitter about it, then he corrected himself: he had known he would spend a horrible night the moment he chose to put on a tux and climb into his car. Denial was not going to get him through the evening.

The Marlas Hall was an impressive building, allying the golden varnish of the expensive and well-conserved with the bluntness of the old. The gardens were particularly noteworthy, full of wide trees and cleverly half-hidden ruins. People raved about finding millennium-old stones in the middle of their evening strolls, but failed to realize the trees were often even older.

The gardens were tempting, yes. Laurent could smell the perfume of early-summer flowers and feel the breeze on his face through the open french doors leading out, but he refrained himself. This was a charity event thrown by his own brother: he had to socialize and charm the room into parting with a few of the superfluous zeros in their bank account.

Still, he couldn’t banish the feeling of dread pooling low in his stomach as he stepped through the room, darting furtive looks right and left. But what was the point? Was he trying to locate or avoid?

Auguste snagged him by the arm before he could finish that thought.

“Laurent,” he said with forced cheer. “I’m so glad to see you. Thank you for coming.” He squeezed Laurent’s biceps a little tighter. Laurent didn’t know who he was trying to convince. “Um, Vannes is here.”

“I hope you’re more eloquent in your speech,” Laurent said, shaking off Auguste’s almost painful grip.

“What?”

“Tell me what you have to tell me and go. You have a party to host.”

Auguste’s eyebrows drew together. “I have the right to be concerned for my little brother’s—”

“Oh, so we’re concerned, now?”

A pause. Auguste looked at him with his clear blue eyes and sighed.

“You know, don’t you?”

“The name’s hard to miss.”

It was right there at the top of the invitation list. No one would see it other than Auguste, Laurent, and the affected staff, but that was enough.

Damianos Akielos.

The name didn’t haunt Laurent. He felt unease and excessive annoyance, but he knew he could get through the evening. He didn’t have a choice. Or maybe he did: maybe Auguste would give him one, out of brotherly affection and concern, and ask him later for a favor that Laurent would be too happy to fulfill. But Laurent hadn’t made it this far in life without an iron spine and a stronger discipline: he would see the night through.

Ex or no ex present.

Who had dumped him. Or would have, had tried to, before Laurent did it first, out of pride and self-respect.

“Laurent,” Auguste started.

“I’m fine.” He was a little surprised to find it true. “I won’t talk to him, though.”

“He might want to talk to you.”

This was probably a plea to be civil. It missed its mark by a hundred feet.

“I doubt it,” Laurent said, and turned away to greet the newest arrival of guests.

He did. In securing his pride, Laurent might not have stopped to preserve Damianos’s. That was what the “I’ll never see him again” part of the plan was for.

Damianos didn’t enter until the gala had started in full. Laurent noticed the kind of commotion near the door that announced a new arrival: the steward drawing people forward, the customary stop on the threshold to gauge the room and let people gawk, should they need to—and it was almost always assumed that they did.

Laurent slipped behind a large group of people dressed as severe as he was and tried to will the light off his pale hair. He thought he was making a decent job at pretending to consider the paté hors d’oeuvre when Jord’s voice grunted from behind him.

“I’ll punch him back to Ios.”

Jord was much less conspicuous in his staring than Laurent, although he was wearing a simple black suit that marked him without subtlety as a bodyguard and was thus invisible to most of the people milling around.

“Please don’t,” Laurent said.

Jord grunted again. It could have meant anything from a disregard of Laurent’s words to reluctant agreement: knowing Jord, it was most likely a mix of everything in between.

Laurent took a flute from a nearby tray. “Is that apple cider or champagne?”

Jord shrugged. “Drink and find out.”

That was the method Laurent usually preferred to avoid. He took a careful sip, though, and almost recoiled when the tart taste of alcohol hit his tongue. Laurent didn’t drink: he liked neither the taste nor the effects. Tonight, though, in the shadow of Damianos's large back, the idea was more tempting than it had ever been.

“That’s not apple cider,” Jord warned next to him, as though Laurent had missed it after his first taste.

“I know.”

Jord eyed him for a moment with the easiness of a man who had seen Laurent grow up and suffered through his teenage moods. He shrugged then: Laurent was not the person he was paid to protect and he would not dare baby him, for the same reasons.

“Don’t mess up,” he called as Laurent departed, done with the insidious interrogation.

“I never do.”

Laurent chose not to hear the ugly snort behind him. He waved through the crowd, stopping to chat with couples on the look-out for recognition from the hosts and larger groups who would unanimously revel on his witty conversation once he departed.

He saw Torveld and the blonde doe-faced youth he had taken as unofficial sugar baby, and the looks exchanged with the closest server, barely older. Vannes smiled her shark grin at him from across the room. Laurent met her stare and raised his glass in salutation. He almost bumped into Ancel a minute later, and spent a longer time than he intended talking horses with Berenger.

Laurent had to give it to Ancel: though he was clearly bored and out of his depth, he found a way of holding Laurent’s gaze dead on. It would have been uncomfortable, had Laurent not spent his formative years developing and honing the same tactics.

It was almost enough. The clock was indicating well past eleven when Laurent’s eyes passed over Damianos for the first time.

It was a quick glance, accidental turned informative: Laurent noted the width of his shoulders, possibly greater than two years ago. The shine of his hair, combed and slicked back in a way that somehow tamed the curls. The dark color of his suit; almost a perfect match to Laurent’s. The thought bothered him for a moment, so he traded it for a third glass of champagne.

It was almost certainly a mistake. He found he did not care much.

Drinking meant relative immobility. He had raised the glass to his lips when Damianos turned from his conversation—who was it with him? Did it matter?—and saw him.

The look on his face was too earnest to stomach this late in the night with alcohol in his blood. Laurent held his gaze for two seconds, which were two seconds too long but did not appear that way at the time, and turned away.

The party was winding down: the charity part had been done, and now there was music from a half-hidden orchestra and some dancing. Laurent cut through the small of gatherings of people he did not have the obligation nor the will to entertain anymore and stepped outside.  

The balcony was wide, closed off by a wide stone bannister with intricate carvings, and led off to the sprawling grass. Laurent took a moment to inhale deeply. The cool air was a blessing on his overheated skin; he put down the glass and folded his arms on the bannister, pressing his forehead into the stone. He didn’t know what kind of stone it even was: sandstone? Granite? Were the two even alike? He knew it wasn’t marble: he could still feel its smooth expanse under his hand and the blinding vision of it under the sun.

There he went again.

Laurent stayed close to the bannister when he took down the stairs, unsure of his own legs. He had no experience on which to base his current state on. He didn’t think he was very drunk, but the filter in his mind seemed to have a life of his own. He felt as though he would explode in words if anyone talked to him. Maybe he would keep on talking until there were no words inside his head anymore, let them pouring out until he was dry as a desert.

Maybe he was a desert: dry and cold at night, uninhabitable and hostile.

Damianos found him leaning against the remains of an old column, watching the stars unblinkingly until his head spinned and he had to close his eyes against dizziness.

“Laurent,” Damianos said after a while, after moment spent aware of the other and their shared history. It weighted between them, like a bag full of water that kept splashing them frozen.

“Ah,” Laurent said. He opened his eyes. “Hello, Damianos.”

Something passed in Damianos’s gaze. He was probably thinking about the last time Laurent had called him his full name, before they had dated. He liked easy camaraderie and friendliness, but Laurent was not here to reassure his need to be well-liked.

“Did you know I’d come and find you?” he asked. “I didn’t know myself until I did it.”

“You’re a really bad liar.”

“You’re drunk.”

Laurent let out a silent laugh. “Does it bother you?”

“I hope it’s not because of me.”

Of course it was. Laurent turned fully toward him and crossed his arms on his chest. Damianos’s eyes were wide open and dark in the moonlight, like his clothing and his hair. He looked like a sketch on canvas, his lines suggested rather than fully drawn.

He looked like the man Laurent had left a year ago alone in his apartment, angry and crushed because he had not gotten to do the crushing himself.

“What are you going to do about it?” Laurent asked, meaning the long conversation everyone had wanted to have with him afterwards.

Oh, Laurent, why did you break up with him?

I thought you guys were moving in together!

Laurent, he was perfect. What have you done?

Love is a scam. Drink?

Damianos didn’t seem to understand him. “You’re drunk,” he repeated.

Laurent waved his hand. “Astute observation. Are you trying to make it disappear by repeating it? If you say ‘Laurent is drunk’ three times, you’ll invoke—”

He was rambling. Damianos strode forward once, breaking his pace immediately. He gained and lost his assured expression in the same breath.

“This is the first time I see you in a year,” he started, running a hand in his hair, messing it up, “and you’re drunk.”

Why did he keep saying it? Laurent had seen him with a glass in hand: he could not pretend at perfection. Laurent pushed back from the column.

“Right,” he said, not entirely sure of the next words pushing out of his mouth. “This is as predictably boring as I thought it would be. If you’ll excuse me—”

“Wait.” Damianos’s arm shot up to block Laurent before he could step around him. It was for show and they both knew it: Laurent would be able to sidestep before Damianos could make up his mind to reach for him. “Were you avoiding me?”

“No.” Laurent made a dismissive gesture. “You don’t avoid a fly.”

“Is that what I am to you? Something to swat away?”

Laurent wanted to say yes, you are. Get out of my way. He wanted to say, no, because I’ve never felt this lost than this past year. His mouth felt full of cardboard.

“Damianos,” he started, focusing on the lapel of his jacket, rather than the strong chest under it or the face above his own, earnest and true when it was not bearable to be. “Damen.”

The look on Damen’s face changed with that word: in a flash, he was still the slightly arrogant young man who had swept Laurent off his feet even though he had felt nailed to the ground.

“I—” Laurent said, and then his phone rang.

They looked down at the same time. Laurent let out a little disbelieving laugh. Damen said “Your phone” like it was an incantation.

It was Auguste. It stopped ringing right when Laurent tapped to accept the call, then started again almost immediately.

Auguste wasn’t an anxious caller. There had to be a problem.

“Then you should go,” Damen said, and Laurent realized he’d said it out loud.

“Yes,” he said and picked up.

Damen turned away first, stepping aside to let Laurent go back toward the building.

Laurent went without turning back, trying not to hear the singular sound of his steps on gravel. He didn’t want to think about Damen’s solitary figure next to the white stone, half cast in the shadows like an echo of the past.

He did anyway.

[theblessed-unrest]

Vegetarian Recipes I 💖

I’m starting a new thread for #Gabcooks because during my 6-month exchange in Vancouver, I’ve developed a passion for food and appreciation beyond simply the end product on my plate. There’s just something about being in the fields, plucking out fruit from the land, food compost being a common sight and feeling the vulnerability and fragility of fresh produce that makes you want to whip up the best meals you can with what you have and to demand the same from places you dine at. It makes me think, perhaps this is why there is a dearth of excellent, world-class food places in Singapore, apart from hawker food - where then again, the best places are usually run by older folks (who I hypothesise had more interaction with their food before they were turned into food?) Millennials these days keep opening cafes with eye-roll inducing, run-off-the-mill menus. (Did someone say avocado toast with eggs benedict? I swear, if someone says describes a cafe as “insta-worthy” again I will wring them dry...)

Food security is something many developed countries have began to take for granted and you can see this from the amount of food wasted in these countries. Research by the Food and Agriculture Organisation of the United Nations (FAO) has shown that food waste by consumers is more common in high-income countries (FAO, 2019). Especially in urbanised settings like Singapore (which generated 763,100 tonnes of food waste in 2018), where many have not even stepped into a farm their entire lives, Wendell Berry’s word never rang truer. He writes that “cultural amnesia” regarding the origins of our food is rampant. Not only does food waste have negative environmental impacts (GHGs, carbon/land/water footprints), but it just seems like a really dumb problem to have by virtue of how easy the solution is: basically to estimate rightly and buy the right amount of food you need. Everyone benefits because you save money while not having to go out of your way to save the environment.

Regarding this point, I found the figures interesting for the main food groups and their associated contribution to carbon/land/water footprints. In this regard, all food groups (not just meat and animal products!) can equally contribute to food waste, so this applies to even vegans/vegetarians. The bottomline is, no matter what you eat, don’t waste it.

(Source: FAO, 2019)

But cutting out food waste is just one part of the equation. We need to do more.

I can’t commit to veganism just yet, but here’s my hot take: I think the world will benefit with majority of people incorporating more eco-friendly and zero waste lifestyle habits (imperfectly) rather than a few people practicing through and through veganism. So I guess I am a “Reducetarian” in a sense. Multiple resources have pointed to reduction of meat intake as the essential to avoiding a climate crisis, with a recent study by Oxford showing that just going vegan for two-thirds of your meals can cut down food-related GHG emissions by 60%! And of course, eating less red meat is good for your health.

As for me, apart from when I’m out with my friends or eating what my mum/helper cooks at home, I will try to get vegetarian food for myself (usually at a mixed rice store). Quoting Wendell Berry again, I too believe that “eating is an agricultural act” and a critical way we can take action to fight climate change (since eating is something we inevitably do every few hours each day).

Many of my friends didn’t believe I could survive on a vegetarian diet on the weekdays when I was in Vancouver, and ask me what I eat then: beans??? (Short answer: no, I believe only 10% of my diet were beans as seen below) So here are some recipes to start with that can help you transition into a plant-based diet while proving that you don’t necessarily sacrifice taste! (Another hot take: thinking that steak belongs in “fancy meal” category and a proof of culinary prowess is the lack of one’s imagination. Any fool, including this writer, can cook a good steak at home after a few tries.)

Recipes

(Source: Bon Appetit)

1. Parmesan-Roasted Cauliflower

I let my family and some friends try this for the first time when I came back and everyone had second/third/fourth helpings... I don’t know how to describe roasted cauliflowers apart from “life-changing”. You’ll never stir fry your cauliflowers again.

(Source: Bon Appetit)

2. Spaghetti Aglio e Olio with Lots of Kale

Super easy weeknight meal to make. Just remember not to hold back on the salt.

(Source: Bon Appetit)

3. Zucchini-Herb Fritters with Garlic Yoghurt

“It tastes like meat!” I rest my case. I had them with cold soba, sautéed swiss chard, julienned cucumber and occasionally, a poached egg. (Also, the garlic yoghurt dip is SO GOOD. I introduced my family to it recently and we’ve been making a new batch every week since.) 

4. Wholesome Burrito Bowl

Inspired by a time where my roommate and I paid close to $10 for a burrito bowl in school. Never again. Also if you’re not sold yet, it has guac (!!)

(Source: My Gluten Free Guide)

5. Cheesy Potato Rosti 

For 2 servings

Prep time: 10 mins

Cook time: 20 mins

Ingredients:

2 peeled potatoes (I used russets because they were on sale when I made this)

1 tbs olive oil

Salt and pepper

Lemon wedges (squeezed for serving)

Optional: garlic yoghurt (refer to BA’s Zucchini Fritters recipe)

Method:

1) Grate potatoes.

2) Take handfuls of your grated potato and squeeze it out over the sink to remove as much liquid as possible. (Life hack: put it in the fridge while you go and busy yourself with other things for half an hour or so to get it real dehydrated)

3) Heat oil in large frying pan over high heat. Season potato with salt and pepper and place half in pan, distributing it evenly to form a large circle. Press t down with the back of a spatula. Cook for 2 minutes, then turn down the heat to medium and cook for a further 3 minutes.

4) Place a plate upside down on top of the potato and carefully flip the frying pan so that the fried side of the rosti is facing upwards on the plate. Gently slide back into the pan and continue cooking for another 4-5 minutes, turning up the heat for the last minute or so to crisp up the base. Remove from pan. Repeat with remaining potato.

*Notes: You can add on whatever other ingredients you want! I recommend onions and mushrooms. They probably go well with poached eggs and other sautéed vegetables as well.

6. Baked Patatas Bravas with Egg

Inspired after having it at Como Taperia :’-) Make sure to watch the eggs!

7. Chana Masala

Seriously, the secret to good vegetarian food is the spices!! Great with naan.

8. Zucchini Loaf

Zucchini again?? Yes, I somehow managed to procure a hugeass zucchini. Story for another day. Basically kind of like a carrot cake situation but moister because zucchinis have higher water content.

(Source: Epicurious)

9. Burst Cherry Tomato Pasta

Super easy, tasty and fast dinner to whip up (without even having to crack open a jar of pasta sauce!)

10. Crispy Black Bean Tacos with Avocado and Feta

Another really fast, easy and satisfying meal to make. Especially if you have a masher. I use a fork :’’-) 

11. Grilled Cheese Sourdough with Caramelised Onions and Scrambled Eggs

I had a phase (during finals) where I was basically exhausting all the possible permutations and combinations of meals you could make from sourdough, cheese and eggs. It was kind of a eureka moment when I thought of adding caramelised onions into your classic grilled cheese sandwich.

For 1 serving

Prep time: 10 mins

Cook time: 35 mins

Ingredients:

1 small onion, or half if large (chopped)

1 tablespoon unsalted butter (softened)

1/2 teaspoon sugar

1 teaspoon sherry vinegar (I used apple cider vinegar)

2 slices of sourdough (or any other bread of choice)

2 slices of cheddar (I mixed in some shredded parmesan as well)

1 large egg

Salt and pepper

Method:

1) Heat half tablespoon of unsalted butter in a large pan over medium heat. When butter is melted, add onions in and cook, stirring occasionally, until dark brown and caramelized, about 15 minutes. Add the vinegar, sugar and 2 tablespoons water, scrapping up any dark bits that have accumulated on the bottom of the pan. Continue to cook until all the liquid has evaporated. Transfer the onions to a bowl.

2) Butter 1 side of each bread slice. Lay 1 slice butter-side down onto pan on medium heat. Top with 1 slices of cheddar, parmesan, a dollop of the onions and 1 more slice of cheddar. Top with another slice of bread, butter-side up.

3) Cook until the cheese begins to melt and the bread is golden brown, 2 to 4 minutes. Flip and continue to cook until golden brown and the cheese is melted through, 2 to 4 minutes. Cut in half.

4) Crack egg into a medium bowl. Add salt and pepper. Whip eggs until completely homogenous and pale yellow in colour, about 30 seconds. Heat butter on pan over medium-low heat. (Can skip this step if your pan is non-stick) Add eggs and cook, undisturbed, until a thin layer of cooked egg appears around the edge of the skillet. Using a spatula and broad sweeping motions, push eggs all the way around the circumference of the skillet, then across the bottom. Continue to push eggs around and across skillet until fluffy and barely set, about 2 minutes; they should still look runny on top. Sprinkle with more pepper if desired. Serve immediately with grilled cheese sandwich.

(Source: Bon Appetit)

12. Spicy Kimchi Tofu Stew

A winter essential. Really comforting to have with rice. 

13. Crispy Maple-Soy Glazed Tofu with Soba & Kimchi

A product of making do with whatever I had in the kitchen. Followed this recipe for the crispy maple-soy glazed tofu. Served it with chilled soba and kimchi straight from the fridge, topped with chopped green onions. Flavours actually went really well together. 

14. Pumpkin Soup with Cheesy Garlic Bread

A fall essential. Made the cheesy garlic bread from scratch with sourdough, olive oil, minced garlic, green onions and shredded parmesan cheese.

15. Cream of Mushroom Soup with Cheesy Garlic Bread

It was a phase of soup + cheesy garlic bread. I can’t find the recipe I used though... But here’s Bon Appetit’s recipe.

16. Barlett Pear and Goat Cheese Toast

With some chopped roasted almonds and a drizzle of maple syrup, it’s a taste bomb.

17. Cheese-Stuffed Bell Peppers

Great finger food for a party!

18. Baked Eggs with Mushrooms, Cherry tomatoes and Spinach + Toast

Zero cooking needed. Just chop up the ingredients and stick them in the oven (together with some slices of bread for maximum efficiency). Great for lazy dinners or a late night snack.

(Source: Bon Appetit)

19. Pumpkin Loaf with Salted Maple Butter

Loaves are my favourite thing to bake now. I love the flavours in this one - it has fresh ginger!! There’s also very little effort required for maximal output. I can have them for breakfast, snacks and dessert. And they freeze well so future you will thank you too.

[helveticabrown]

Hair of the Chernabog - Swan Queen fic

Title: Hair of the Chernabog

Pairing: Emma Swan/Regina Mills

Rating: T

Words: 2,523

Summary:  After a big night of fun, Emma's left with two mysteries. One: why is Regina so pissed at her? And two: how does Regina not have the hangover to end all hangovers?

Emma was awoken by the sound of Henry’s elephantine feet clomping around somewhere above her. In the last few months, he’d seriously shot up, and the shrimpy little kid she’d met a few years ago had been replaced by an awkward, gangly teenager who wasn’t quite at home with how he and his body fit into the world. The result had been a transformation from quiet and stealthy to loud, graceless and occasionally obtrusive. Like right now. He was still the best kid in the world, even if she did kind of want to strangle him so she could keep sleeping.

She cracked an eyelid and winced as the light hit her eyes, quickly closing them and burying her head in the crook of her elbow. Her head was throbbing, and her tongue felt like she’d been licking carpet, and not in a good way. She dimly registered that she was not in her own bed; instead, she was curled up on the sofa in Regina’s living room.

The loud footsteps receded for a moment and she tried to pretend that she wasn’t awake for a little bit longer, in the hopes that her hangover would get bored and move on. That plan was ruined by the resident teenage elephant loudly walking into the room. Emma felt the vibration of each footfall as an ice-pick driving into her skull.

“Mom thought you might need some aspirin.”

Emma groaned. “What I need is to be allowed to die in peace.”

“What you need is to stop lying on my sofa like a decaying corpse.”

Read more below or on AO3 

She hadn’t noticed Regina coming into the room and for a moment she thought about ignoring her. Eventually, though, she succumbed to the temptation to open an eye, only to find Regina standing, hands on hips, glaring at her.

“Not my fault your cider is deadly,” Emma mumbled. She would have liked to have thought up a slightly more assured comeback, but considering she probably still had more alcohol than blood in her veins at this point, that would have to do.

Regina wrinkled her nose. “You smell like a sack of apples left in the sun too long. Go home and have a shower.”

Emma squinted at Regina uncomprehendingly. Her memories of the previous evening were, admittedly, rather fuzzy at this point. However, from what little she could put together, she was almost certain that Regina had drunk at least as much as she had. And yet, Regina looked far too put together for someone who probably would have drunk the entire crew of the Jolly Roger under the table last night.

“How are you even alive right now?” It seemed particularly unfair that Regina did not seem to be suffering even just a little bit.

“Perhaps, unlike certain people, I actually know my limits,” Regina said, her tone harsh in a way Emma couldn’t remember hearing directed towards her in a long time.

Emma looked beseechingly at Henry in the hopes that she might find at least a little sympathy from someone. He shrugged, as if to say she was on her own, but handed her the aspirin anyway.

She sighed and dragged herself off the sofa, grumbling the whole way.

Emma slid into a booth at Granny’s, one as far away from the windows and any form of light, natural or otherwise, as she could find.

“I’ll have a bacon sandwich with extra bacon and no bread.”

The waitress – Joan according to her name tag – gave her a vapid, slightly puzzled smile. “But that’s not on the menu?”

Emma sighed. She missed Ruby; she would never have questioned the order of a hung-over sheriff. Granny’s had seriously gone downhill since Ruby had left Storybrooke to follow her passion for hydroponics.

Emma peered balefully at Joan over the top of her sunglasses. “Listen. I don’t normally believe in abusing my position, but today…” Emma flashed her badge. “Today I will make an exception. I need bacon and I don’t care if you have to kill one of the three little pigs to get it.”

Joan was still standing beside her table with a vacant look on her face. “But it’s not on the…”

Emma snatched the notepad and pencil from Joan’s hands before she could finish. She didn’t have the patience for this today. She scribbled down her order and thrust the notepad back into Joan’s hands.

“Just give this to Granny. She’ll understand.”

Her order came out quickly; Granny obviously recognised the risk a hungover Sheriff posed to her customers and wait-staff. Stomach safely lined with bacon, Emma decided to get on with the very important job of puzzling out why Regina suddenly seemed angry at her.

It made no sense. As far as she could tell, she and Regina had been getting on like a house on fire last night. She’d even managed to convince Regina to sing karaoke at The Rabbit Hole. That much she definitely knew; Mulan – the traitor – had uploaded the footage on YouTube and shared it on Facebook.

Maybe that was it. Maybe Regina was angry about Emma’s involvement in her public embarrassment. Not that it had been particularly embarrassing; Regina’s singing voice, even after the better part of a bottle of wine was exactly as good as Emma had expected it to be.

Emma shook her head and instantly regretted it. No, the timeline didn’t fit. Mulan’s post had only gone up half an hour ago and Regina had been shirty with her the moment she’d woken up. Emma had long ago learned to rely on gut instinct and in that moment her gut was telling her two things. One, perhaps that much bacon had, in fact, been a bad idea and two, there was a mystery here, a mystery far deeper and more profound than the karaoke machine at The Rabbit Hole only having Kylie Minogue songs.

The day was full of mysteries and there were at least two she was determined to get to the bottom of: why Regina was angry and how she’d managed to beat a hangover that Emma was sadly very much still in the throes of. 

She decided that it was time to put her detective skills to full use. She’d start by canvassing the witnesses to the previous evening, then interviewing friends and family. Finally, she’d turn her attention to the lady in question; she’d learned from bitter experience that Regina was an incredibly slippery customer and that it was best not to confront her until she had a little more evidence in hand.

It was three o’clock and she was still feeling beyond awful. All of her investigations had come to nothing. Even Mulan hadn’t been able to offer anything more, beyond teasing her about hangover and then how desperately smitten she’d seemed with Regina all night. That certainly wasn’t news to Emma; her feelings for Regina had long since overshot friendly and were well on their way to being hopelessly in love. But maybe that was it. Maybe that was what Regina had picked up on.

There was a time when she would have just headed home and gone to sleep rather than facing things and right now, every inch of her aching, hungover body was screaming at her to do just that. But she and Regina had let too many misunderstandings, too many resentments, simmer and burn between them over the years and now, when it had finally felt like they were in a good place, Emma couldn’t stand to leave this one to reduce them to ruins.

“What do you want, Emma?” The faint hope that she’d been imagining Regina’s anger evaporated when Regina answered the door. She stood there, arms folded, and eyes hard in a way Emma couldn’t remember seeing in a long time.  

“I was kind of hoping you could teach me whatever spell you used to get rid of your hangover.” Emma trailed after Regina into the house, wincing as a spear of pain lanced its way through her eye. “I mean, I’m up for just about anything at this point. I’d even consider selling my soul to Rumplestiltskin if that was what it took.”

Regina didn’t say anything, just continued to regard her unsympathetically.

“Also, I was kind of wondering why you seem so pissed at me.”

Regina’s eyebrows shot up at that. “You don’t remember?”

She shook her head.

“Fine.”

Regina waved her hand, shoving a vial of something murky and unappealing at her a moment later. “Drink it,” she said. She pressed her lips together, a picture of irritation, and then added, “And you can keep your soul.”

Emma eyed it suspiciously. “What is it?”

“Hair of the Chernabog. Best hangover cure in all of the Enchanted Forest,” Regina said, her voice still brisk.

Emma hoped that the name was some kind of play on words, although judging by the look of it, the ingredients were probably at least as awful as she imagined. “I guess I did say I’d try anything.”

She pulled a face as the potion hit her tongue. It was oily and faintly rancid-tasting and she was beginning to believe that the cure was far, far worse than the disease. But Regina, standing in front of her looking impeccable, albeit impeccably irritated, was the proof that this vile liquid was actually as miraculous as it was promised to be. She swallowed, trying not to gag, difficult though it was with her already roiling stomach.

She managed to hold it down and within moments she felt clarity return, the insistent pounding of her head fading into a dull ache and then nothing at all. And with that clarity came memories of the previous evening, flooding back in vivid colour.

She replayed the events of the previous evening in her mind, searching for a clue, for anything that might help her understand why Regina was suddenly so cold and distant.

Regina stood watching her, arms folded. “Do you remember?”

She wracked her brains, desperate for an answer, but she kept coming up blank. “Whatever it is, I’m sorry.”

“You can’t apologise for something you don’t even remember,” Regina said, her voice flat.

“What did I do?”

Regina stared at her for long moments, leaving her stewing, before relenting. “It’s not what you did, it’s what you said.”

Emma frowned, still unable to remember. But Regina hadn’t finished. “I told you how grateful I was for your friendship. And you said–”

“–I don’t want to be your friend.” She closed her eyes. And there it was, a fragment of memory, foggy and indistinct, dangling above the precipice of drunken slumber.

She opened her eyes again and Regina’s lips were a hard, angry line, stark and resolute. But her eyes were telling a different story, wounded and uncertain, the muscles at the corners of them twitching, a tiny clue to the turmoil within.

She understood, and now that she did she was unable to stop the laugh that bubbled up.

“I don’t see what’s funny,” Regina snapped. “Never, even when we were enemies, did I think you could be this cruel. I guess I was wrong.”

The raw hurt in Regina’s voice was sobering enough to help her get her laughter under control. There hadn’t been any genuine humour in it; instead, it had been born of a kind of horrified disbelief that a misunderstanding that small could snowball into something so devastating.

“What I said was true, but not quite in the way you understood it to mean.”

Regina stared at her uncomprehendingly and Emma realised that even stone-cold sober she was kind of lousy at this. “What I’m trying to say is that was only half the story. There was more I wanted to say, but apparently I can’t hold my liquor quite as well as I thought I could.”

“That point is hardly in dispute,” Regina said. “Though I still don’t see where the rest of this clumsy excuse for an explanation is going.”

Emma sighed. It seemed like she was making a huge mess of this and she was reminded of the reason she usually didn’t attempt serious confessions without the aid of enough alcohol to sink a battleship. “I’m trying.”

“You are. Very trying indeed.”

Emma snorted. “You can do better than that.”

“I know,” Regina said, her voice soft, and the thought of Regina without a razor-sharp comeback primed on her lips was, to Emma, the saddest thing of all, because that had always been the one comforting constant in their relationship.

She took a deep breath, determined to get everything out this time. She wished she’d rehearsed what she wanted to say, but she’d never been good at making speeches or even writing them.

“There are things you make me feel. Not friendly feelings, more like soft, gooey, ice-cream left in the sun kind of feelings. And there are things I want with you, things that…”

As comprehension began to dawn on Regina’s face, Emma faltered. She hadn’t really thought through what might happen if Regina didn’t have a place in her life for a messy, melty ice-cream puddle like herself. Even still, she steeled herself to continue.

“…there are things that I’ve always hoped, but never really believed were possible. And maybe they’re not. But I guess what I’m saying is I like you.” And then, in a whisper, “Maybe more than like you.”

As Emma finally ran out of steam, there was an ‘oh’ from Regina, barely more than a startled exhalation.

There was a moment when all of Emma’s worst fears were realised, a moment when Regina stood, unspeaking, almost expressionless, as if frozen in time. Emma smiled tightly, and unable to look at Regina any longer, she said, “I’m sorry, Regina. I won’t bother you anymore,” and turned to leave.

“Wait.” Regina’s command rang out clear as a bell and then there was a hand at her shoulder, compelling her to turn around.

She opened her mouth, about to ask what Regina wanted, only to find herself silenced by the press of Regina’s fingers against her lips.

She stood, her heart beating like a dubstep track, as Regina watched her with wide, hopeful eyes.

“No more words,” Regina whispered–a little unnecessarily Emma thought given she was almost certainly incapable of speech at this point–before trailing her fingers down to cup Emma’s jaw. And then there was the press of Regina’s lips, gentle and expressive, against her own and the closest approximation to speech Emma could manage was to moan into Regina’s mouth. And really, Emma thought, words were definitely over-rated when there was this, when there was the sweetness of Regina’s lips and the silk of her hair and the softness of her body pressed against her own.

She lost herself in a place where words, thoughts even, held no power until finally, they both came up for air. Her heart still pounding and her breath coming quick, she felt herself melt at the sight of Regina, eyes sparkling and cheeks flushed.

“You were saying?” Regina breathed. And Emma shook her head, leaned in and kissed her again.