#cherry pie would be better because my family has always used canned cherries

[urstruly-ghst]

Could i get headcanons of ace and deuce fighting over their same crush? It can be poly if you want :)

note : its open ended on each hc! so it'll be your interpretation if it's purely separate or poly :>

ace trappola 

Used to getting things he wanted, Ace didn’t like the idea of sharing. Although he can still be a bit kinder to others, specifically you, he still hated sharing. The youngest of his family, Ace, was someone who got a lot of things immediately. 

Likewise, this does extend to other things. Success? He liked the solo success, but you can bask in it. Just have 10% of it. Pie? A crust with little cherry filling, take it or leave it. Cheeky and a bit inconsiderate, Ace always was this pain when it came to sharing, So it shouldn’t surprise anyone he was vehemently possessive over you. 

Back to you, Ace was stubborn to let anyone like you too. While he adores the fact you get the recognition and care you deserve, he hates the fact someone sees you in the same way he, Ace, does. He didn't take it well and probably became more brash and annoying. This applied to everyone, but he was harsher with Deuce, who he could push the right buttons to get on his nerves. 

Chores? All somehow on Deuce’s list. His favorite food? Ace gave it to someone else. His time with you? Uh-oh! The dorm leader or a senior is calling him. However, that charade won’t last as long as he would like. Ace gets roped into trouble too…

Overall, the whole thing for Ace is his sly nature to monopolize you alone. He adores you and wishes his efforts would make you realize he can be loyal to a fault—that and how he can be a tough nut to crack. You would notice it. Eventually, you forced him and Deuce to sit with you. What happens next makes Ace hold his breath…

“I get it, and I was a biiiit rude to Deuce. Okay, I was super rude to him. Yes, I did that. I just wanted your attention, okay?! Ugh, this is why feelings are weird. Also, what’s up with this guy sitting with us?! Don’t tell me I have to apologize! Wait… Is this?”

deuce spade 

Deuce was different from Ace and was more open to sharing with people. He was his opposite yet his mirror at the same time. While he can stand sharing and isn’t a hogger like Ace, he has a possessive streak in his thoughts. Though, it is different from Ace’s possessiveness. 

Like Ace, he would distance others from you, but he deviates from Ace, except he isolates time for a limited slot. He lets you go to do whatever, but he would be selfish to steal some time from you. He shares you openly because he thinks asking for too much of you would be weird.

Though he was this “kinder” version, he was still mean. He’d bully Ace sometimes, like crushing him underneath his cauldron, purposely forgetting to tell him he has last-minute scheduled duties, somehow letting Riddle collar him, and even going as far as making him run around the P.E field. 

It was his own petty fight, and he rarely brought out his fists to fight with Ace. However, he puts his foot down when Ace lets his selfishness be the better of his already lousy image. That means Deuce can see Ace already imagining you two being married. 

In the end, he was swayed by your lovely reasoning: talk it out with his rival. Deuce likes the fair game and would always be willing to make things right. So, when you offered to let him sit down with Ace, you in the middle to mediate, he accepted quickly. And during that event, you said something that made him agape, a breath escaping him without ever returning.

“Shut up, Ace! I am doing this for them, not you. Also, can’t you appreciate their efforts to sit us down?! Ugh. Also, didn’t you– Ah, right, sorry, sorry. I will be civil, Prefect! Sigh, you’re really something to us… Ugh! Ace! Move it. You’re in my space!”

[kellopot]

working on someone,,,

You long for home the same way Ace longs for you.

It’s not a well kept secret— Heartslabyul knows of it, because Ace has tried sneaking out leftovers from parties as discreetly as he can but there’s only so much he can do before someone catches him in the act. He blusters through his excuses uncharacteristically unsmooth and they let him go with a knowing, pity-filled look.

(Because what was an even worse kept secret was the fact you wanted to go home. You didn’t shove it in anyone’s faces but it’s plain to see when you look at something that was similar but not the same as your home and then smile as if you belonged somewhere else.)

The first years know of it too— but they all share the same feeling of dread, in a way. You’re a dear friend, not that Ace would say it outright, because that felt like something he should save for goodbyes and goodbyes made him feel queasy now. Deuce looks as wretched as Ace feels because he can’t keep a poker face on even if his life depended on it. And Jack looks as if he actually means it when he wishes you well but there is no genuineness in his posture. Epel, Sebek, Ortho— he wasn’t there when the news had been broken to them, that a way to get you home had been found. But he sees traces of it in the ways that they don’t show up to any classes at all and you show up, eyes red rimmed, so late that you’d missed almost everything.

So then, Ace starts wondering if you’ll leave immediately. If you’ll look forwards and not backwards and never see the way Ace traces your footsteps, wanting to go back to the times where you still weren’t that homesick and Ace didn’t feel crushing pressure squeezing his throat.

You don’t. You don’t actually leave immediately— thank the sevens for that— because it gives Ace the opportunity to invite you back home for a last minute attempt at convincing you to stay. Thinly veiled, his invite is delivered haltingly, tripping over his words so often that it couldn’t be excused at all.

“-so that’s why I- we want you there. My family. And me,” he finishes uneasily because he sorta doesn’t wanna fuck this up massively. “You’ve never really been anywhere else anyways, maybe you’re feeling so antsy cuz of that. Once you see how beautiful my folks’ place is, you’ll feel better.”

Ace wants to hit himself. Folks? Antsy? “You’ll feel better”? Ace knows exactly why you’re antsy but he can’t help but want to drag this out a little longer, to keep you here, as feeble as his attempts are, so he can finish memorizing the way you look, sound, smell.

“And there’s loads of stuff to do there-”

“Sure.”

“-sure?”, he dithers nervously, blinking at you. The curve of your mouth is the exact same as he remembered when you teased him for getting an upset stomach after eating one too many slices of cherry pie. “Oh. Okay. Cool.”

Ace wants to hit himself again.

“So when are we leaving?”

Soon. Soon is when they’re leaving. Because the way to another world was apparently not very permanent so you and Ace can only travel back to his place for a day before coming back for your farewell party. Farewell party, that felt so strange to Ace because he’s familiar with see you laters but not goodbye forever.

On the way there, you crack so many jokes, and Ace gets swept along so easily that he forgets momentarily, the crushing weight on his throat and the impending parting that looms over his head. On the train ride there— because Crowley had permitted the trip back but not the use of the mirror for transport— you start looking out at the scenery rolling past, stars in your eyes. You ooh-ed and aah-ed and asked Ace questions that he can answer confidently, with a smirk, because tourists always asked the same questions when visiting.

“This train ride is a tourist favorite,” he brags, “Something about prettiest scenery. It’s a lot better if you’re actually there instead of inside this train.”

“You seem to know a lot about what tourists like,” you shift to look at him, leaning your head on the window. Your breath fogs the glass and Ace has to resist flicking your forehead because that was not a comfortable angle to lean at. He should know.

“My town’s the one that gets the most visitors. We’re set in a good place— all surrounded by the nature and stuff but also a bunch of attractions got built around us. It’s easiest to stay there if you wanna visit all of them relatively quickly. Inn’s always full when the holidays arrive. Sometimes I entertain them but I got banned after telling a few half truths.”

You laugh at his last statement. “No wonder you’re so good at making stuff up and keeping people occupied. Always been an entertainer, huh?”

“I’m retired now!”, he winks conspiratorially.

“You won’t lie to me, will you?”

“Never,” he slips out breezily, and finds that he means it, “Can’t lie to you.”

You grin, Ace starts another joke, and it’s all swept under the rug.

He finds it all come unraveling when you actually arrive at his home. And sit there. In the kitchen he grew up in. Wearing your stupid, oversized borrowed sweater from Ace and holding a mug of warm cocoa that his mother made after fussing over the two of you for the longest time. To Ace, you look so much like you belong here that an ache had actually started forming in his chest.

“She’s nice,” you divulge after much fussing, and a teasing wiggle of your eyebrows. “Do you think she’ll show me your childhood photos if I ask?”

Yes. His mother would do that, especially to someone she’d taken a liking to like you.

“Don’t even bother,” he sniffs, hands empty and cocoa-less because his mother had tutted when he showed up unannounced with a guest and was now cleaning out the spare room. You take a long, loud sip in retaliation and Ace pouts until you offer your drink and he takes a gulp.

Fine then, he thinks, watching you roll your eyes as he swallows down chocolate and fondness, I’ll forgive you for looking like you belong here too much.

The next agenda, is to make you actually want to stay here. Which is a lot trickier than actually getting you here. He shows you the forest first, the nature you were ogling at, and tells you that it must have rained because it smells of candied water and there are numerous fallen pine cones around them. At your blank stare, he explains.

“These trees have a sort of candy taste and smell to them, sorta like lollipops. It’s got something to do with the way the leaves secrete water or something but every time it rains around here, you can actually drink the water and it’ll taste sweet.”

Your eyes look like they would bulge out of their head. “Are you serious?!”

“Yep,” he grins, “and the pine cones always fall off when it rains heavily. And it literally smells like a candy shop right now.”

“You have candy rain.”

“Yep,” he says again, popping the p, “but only for a really small patch. These trees are rare so tourists aren’t actually allowed to look at these.”

“You took me here illegally?!”

“I’ve got permission! Sort of. I’m a local,” he flashes a cheeky look at you and now you start hitting him with your fists, delight coating your voice even as you mock-punish him.

He laughs and laughs till his mother calls you both back and Ace has to give her his infamous puppy dog eyes so she won’t scold him for taking you out to see their very important, very sacred trees. She’s still cold hearted enough to send him off to his room to organize all the things she found in the old room she just cleaned out.

“No dinner until then,” she says firmly, foot down, then turns to you with the brightest, sunniest smile. “Can I get anything for you, dearie?”

“Oh, no- well- maybe Ace’s old childhood photos,” you look at him and Ace is mortified to see the mischievous glint in your eyes. No doubt you would tease him for them on the way back.

“Coming right up!”

“I’m your real son!”, he protests huffily, but his mother simply looks at him and he slinks back to his room, your gaze burning him from behind.

And it’s a good thing he does because his room is still as it looks when he left but now there’s a pile of old junk in the middle of it with a photo of Ace in middle school at the very top, freckles dotting his skin and big ears that he hadn’t quite grown into yet. He shoves that photo somewhere deep between his bookcase and desk so it never sees the light of day and picks up the next thing.

It’s a box. An old box. He opens it and is hit with nostalgia as the old key stares back, the string worn but sturdy. He remembers he was only ten- or nine- when he made it with his brother. It was a temporary program where the creation of keys were being taught and whoever signed up had the opportunity to make their own key. Of course, he was too young to do so without a parent or guardian so he’d begged day and night until his brother caved and took him.

“Making a key to your heart?”, the older Trappola teen teasingly remarks as Ace concentrates on drawing straight lines. His brother had to help with drawing it but it was primarily, Ace that had come up with the design. “You’ve gotta find a good person to give this to in the future or all this work will be for nothing.”

“What if I wanna keep it for myself?”, Ace looks at the design and can’t imagine wanting to give away the first thing he’s ever made.

“Trust me,” his brother chuckles as the design gets approved and they’re being guided to the workplace, “You’ll want to give this to someone.”

In the end, even though it was Ace’s design, his brother had to be the one to melt the metal then reshape it with heat. It was complicated enough that he’d struggled but Ace had helped with the final decorations, and chosen the sole gem fixed into the head.

He startles when the door opens, almost dropping the box, but it’s only you, with a more pronounced flush on your cheeks and laughter still winding down, probably from looking at pre-puberty Ace. “Came to see if you passed out. You’re never this quiet when being told what to do.”

“Hey! I can behave when I want to.”

“I highly doubt that,” you gesture to the box, “What’s that?”

For a beat, he freezes, pauses to look at the old key. The color hadn’t faded and it was still in good condition. On impulse, he thrusts it out to you.

“A- A gift,” he searches for the right words, “It’s a key- key to uhm, my heart?”, his voice lilts and he feels like bashing his head in when you simply stare at him blankly, the key still lying in his palm, “No, never mind, forget that. It’s just a key… chain. You can use it as a keychain. Just some ratty old thing I won back when I was a kid. Pretty limited though, only one in the world, and I was just lucky- yeah.”

You take it, finally, you take the key, brushing the lint away and inspecting it, holding it up to the light. A hint of a smirk finally makes its way onto your face. “Alright, alright, I’ll keep it since you’re giving me something so special. Who knew you had it in you, Ace.”

Relief bursts through his lungs, mingled with disappointment that he ignores. “I can be nice when I want to. That thing doesn’t mean anything to me.”

“Sure, sure,” you slip the key over your head, securing it around your neck, “Gotta replace this string though, it might snap.”

“You’re- wearing it,” he’s dumbfounded and confused. You’re wearing his oversized sweater and the key he made and looking at him like he’s slow when you’re the slow one for not realizing Ace wants to scream right there and then.

“I’ll use it as a keychain when I get home,” you decide, “And it’s the key to your heart, isn’t it? I’ve gotta take good care of it,” you lift the key to the light again and there, in so very tiny words imprinted into the metal are “Key to Ace Trappola’s heart”. Ace knew he shouldn’t have trusted his brother to not mess with the key when he was the one who had to do all the work.

“You’re mad,” he finally forces out. “Insane. Crazy.”

“I suppose I’ve gotta be to hang out with you,” you take the insult with grace and start looking at all the other things deposited in his room, Ace only barely able to keep his head straight to entertain you. From how much he keeps glancing at the key nestled between your collarbones, you must know he’s looking. And yet, you don’t say a thing.

Maybe I really can keep them here, Ace thinks, throat tight as you settle into his space so naturally. Maybe I can convince them. Or slip some sleeping pills during dinner and miss the-

“You’re a good friend, Ace,” you tell him, and Ace knows he can’t do anything because you look at him so softly and trusting and Ace is only able to handle so much.

“Yeah,” he swallows, “Yeah, I’m a great friend. You are too but not as good as me.”

You throw a pillow at his head and Ace laughs, as if you weren’t going to take his heart along with you when you left.

You long for home, Ace knows, because you long for home exactly like how Ace longs for you to look at him the same way he looks at you.

[thescarletwitchsapprentice]

Her Sweet Little Gumdrop (Yandere!Platonic!Wanda Maximoff x Autistic!Child!Reader CATCF AU)

*Not my GIF, but OH MY GOD THE ACCENT IS BACK!

Summary: Throughout your whole life, you’ve been the unlucky one; you’re constantly picked on, no friends, low grades, even your family doesn’t seem to understand you too well, all because you’re the autistic kid. But when you win a ticket to tour the factory of your favorite candy company, 

(CW: Ableism, use of the r-slur, bruises/scrapes/cuts, sensory overload, drugging)

Author’s Note: I’m back on my Willy Wonka SI, sorta, due to a fanfic I’m writing, and I thought “damn, wouldn’t it be something if Wanda Maximoff was a candy maker?” I mean, she’d basically be Willy Wonka, let’s be honest. She has that capability.

Anywho...I decided why not? 

Also I’m considering on writing a long-term series. Not based on this, but based on the journalist-turned-superwitch imagine. This one.

You have never considered yourself lucky.

You’re just a poor child constantly picked on in school. No friends. Very little happiness. Low grades because you don’t understand the way the material is being given. So many bruises, scrapes, and cuts from falling and being pushed by your classmates because you’re the odd one out. The autistic kid. Almost every day after school, you go home and weep into your pillow, wishing that someone cared, that someone loved you.

What about your family? Well, it's not that they necessarily don’t care. They give you food, clothes, a roof over your head. They support you, to an extent. But you still don’t feel understood by them, so essentially you’re kind of alone.

The only source of happiness you have are two things; your notebook of ideas and your occasional trips to the candy shop to pick out a candy from your local candy company.

Maximoff Confectionaries, having resurfaced after briefly shutting its doors for the time; the motto? “Tastes Like Magic.” You’d pass by the gates, dreaming of getting to meet the mysterious one behind the magic. Your favorite is their famous Scarlet Sweets; gummy candies colored scarlet, but tasting like a different flavor each time you bite into it. One bite might be cherry jelly, the next might be apple pie, the next might be peppermint chocolate. Despite your autism, you do find this sense of unpredictability exciting, because you know it’s unpredictable, but temporary. You’ve fixated on this company since it reopened. The company inspired you to start writing down your own candy ideas, keeping them safe in a notebook you always have on your person.

Then one day, you hear some big news; the confectioner herself, Wanda Maximoff, has decided to allow five children to visit her factory. Five Scarlet Tickets have been hidden among five of her Maximoff Bars. The five lucky children would get a tour of the factory and a lifetime supply of Maximoff Confectionaries’ candy. 

Of course your eyes light up like the stars, despite your constant misfortune. You save up as much money as you can, but your chance slowly begin to dwindle.

One ticket is found.

Then the second.

The third.

The fourth.

Now you’re down to your last chance. You keep saving and buying....But your heart drops when you hear the news; the fifth ticket’s been found. All of your hope is gone. For the next few days, you’re in the dumps. You can’t bring yourself to get out of bed except to go to the bathroom. After some time, you finally manage to pull yourself out of the bed and go outside, when lo and behold, you find a bill on the ground outside. Looking around to make sure no one sees you, you pick it up and walk off. You decide to go to the local candy shop and purchase a few Maximoff Bars; maybe some chocolate will help you feel better. When you get outside of the candy store, you hear the news; the fifth ticket finding was a fraud!

“That means there’s still one out there somewhere!” someone gasps from the crowd forming by the newspaper stand.

You look down at the bars in your hands.

“Could it be....?” you wonder, your heart rising a bit as you move away from the stand, keeping your back to them.

Picking one at random, you slowly remove the wrapper. Your heart is pounding like mad as you hear the crinkle of the foil while you pull it back. You see the chocolate bar, no sign of scarlet yet. Just a little more.....

You can hardly bring yourself to breathe, your stomach is pinballing all over. You pull it back a little more.....

Wait!

Is that a glint of red?

Is it an illusion? 

Is it false hope?

You pull the foil all the way off.

No!

It’s there!

It’s really there!

The last Scarlet Ticket!

You want to scream in delight, but you realize---

“Hey! They found the last Scarlet Ticket!”

The crowd’s found out. They swarm you and almost immediately sounds, sights, smells, textures. People grabbing at you. Shouting in your ear. You can hardly make out what they’re saying. Your heart is beating a thousand miles a second and you soon make a break from them just before you have a meltdown/shutdown.

You dash back home, losing them some ways away, thankfully.

“Look, everyone! Look! I found it!” you cry out excitedly as you burst inside the house, waving around the key to your joy. “It’s the last Scarlet Ticket! I found it! It’s mine!”

They’re all in absolute disbelief as you read over the ticket. And then you realize that the date of the tour is tomorrow! You’re so excited that you can hardly sleep; however, the next morning, you discover that despite the ticket allowing you to choose a plus one, no one in your family’s able to go; they’re all too busy. And you don’t have any friends, so......

You have to go by yourself.

Clutching your ticket like your life depends upon it, you’re an absolute anxious wreck as you make your way to the factory; you excuse yourself past the others to get to the spot reserved for the other ticket winners and their plus ones, feeling overwhelmed by all of the noise. You put your noise-blocking headphones on, but one of the ticket winners snatches it off of your head. The other four play catch with them as you try to get them back while wondering why their parents aren’t stopping them, but the four drop them when they hear the town clock strike 10 am. 

You just barely hear the shattering of your headphones, but you clearly hear the shattering of your heart.

The door opens and there she is; Wanda Maximoff. She dons a scarlet velvet overcoat, a strange sort-of scarlet tiara in her ginger-auburn-brunette hybrid hair, black boots that go up to her knees, a black dress with a minimalist candy flower pattern, and a silver necklace with a giant scarlet gem in the center.

She approaches the gate with a friendly smile and beckons the five of you forward. The four others shove you to the ground to get to her and you feel more pain sear through body, prompting tears to form in your eyes. You manage to find your headphones. They’re cracked in two. Heart sinking, you pick them up and keep your head down as you slowly make your way to the back of the line, hearing a few snickers and whispers from some of the kids in the crowd.

“How did that retard manage to get that ticket?”

“I bet someone took pity on them and gave it to them.”

“Probably. What a loser.”

The tears begin to fall onto your face as the comments dig into your heart. You begin to wonder if you even deserve to be here.

“Why, it’s little (y/n) (y/l/n).”

Suddenly you hear a welcoming, low, gentle voice with a slight Eastern European accent. You glance up to see Miss Maximoff smiling kindly at you.

“I read all about you in the papers this morning. It’s so lovely to meet you. And where’s your family member?”

You shake your head as you present your ticket to her.

“No one was able to come, ma’am.”

She seems a bit taken aback by your formality as she takes it.

“What about a friend?”

You shake your head again.

“I don’t have any, ma’am.”

There are a few snickers and Wanda shoots a glare and a head tilt at the crowd before turning back to you, her face softening.

“I’m sure you’ll find a friend here,” she assures you, holding a hand out.

You’re hesitant, but you take it and she leads you to the others. You don’t want to let go of it. It feels so soft and welcoming. She leads you all inside to a coat wrack room. You all sign the contract with you trying to read the entire thing carefully, much to the chagrin of the other kids, but Miss Maximoff doesn’t seem to mind.

After that, you go through a strange door leading to a peculiar hallway that seems to be getting smaller. She flips open a piano on the door you’re standing around and plays a little tune.

“Rachmaninoff,” someone mutters.

You know that it’s Mozart.

But your attention is drawn to the chocolate room. So many sights and sounds, you begin to feel anxious. Next thing you know, you’re jostled around as the others rush off to who-knows-where. You grasp onto your broken noise-blocking headphones as you fall to the ground; eventually you split off to a small and less overstimulating area, covering your ears and rocking while the others practically decimate the chocolate room.

Miss Maximoff seems to notice you as the odd one out and goes over to you, sitting close to you, but still allowing you your personal space.

“It’s a lot to take in, I know,” she assures you. 

She spies your broken noiseblockers.

“What are these?” Though tone’s not your specialty, she makes it clear that the question is out of genuine curiosity and kindness. You explain to her what you know about being autistic and how those help block out sound and even mention how they’ve been one of the things that’s gotten you picked on.

“How did they end up like this?”

You glance away, reluctant to snitch on the other ticket winners. She seems to understand, and takes the noiseblockers. With her magic, she fixes them up. and gives them back to you.

“There. Good as new.”

You gasp in shock, your eyes sparkling with surprise. You tear up and squeal quietly while thanking her with a hug.

At that moment, something in Wanda clicks as she gently hugs you back; a maternal instinct to the highest degree and beyond. It’s been nagging at her since she first saw you, but now this has sent it over the edge. Such a poor, sweet, innocent, adorable child being beaten down by the world, seemingly left to fend for yourself. Not any longer, she’s decided. You’re gonna be her child.

Of course since this is following CATCF, one of the kids decides to take a taste of the room’s chocolate river and goes splash. You get scared, but Miss Maximoff reassures you that it’ll be okay, they’ll be fine. (She doesn’t know if they will, but she sends one of her workers to try to get them out of the boiler anyway.)

While the others go through the psychedelic tunnel with a few of her workers, she takes you through somewhere much more pleasant; a candy meadow with sheep and unicorns, letting you stop and taste whatever you wish. She can’t help but giggle at how taken in and excited you are by all of this. Finally you get to the Inventing Room and---oh! one of the kids has turned into a blueberry. You’re both terrified and intrigued, but that person gets rolled out quickly to the Juicing Room. Miss Maximoff assures you that they will be fine. (Even though she’s not sure herself as she sends some workers to dejuice the kid; it breaks her heart to see you upset and scared, but it also reminds her of just how helpless and lonely you are.)

The person who broke your noise-blockers is offed next when you go see the squirrels (or geese if you wanna go for the 1971 movie) and the one who took them to begin with is offed in the TV room. Then you’re the only one left. There was one moment that you’d snuck off and taken something you weren’t supposed to have, but that’d been eating you up and you give it back to her with tears in your eyes. (Because I’m not gonna recreate the half-office scene where Wonka yells at Charlie, you’ve suffered enough) She knows you’re the right child to help her run the factory.

“I’d love to stay, but I need to get back home, ma’am,” you tell her sadly. 

“But you haven’t gotten your prize yet,” she tells you.

You shrug.

“Today was a prize enough, ma’am.”

Her heart breaks and melts upon hearing this, and she begins to panic, desperate to keep you, but suddenly she comes up with an idea. She uses her magic to conjure up a Scarlet Sweet.

“Please, at least have some candy before you go.”

You know your parents told you never to accept candy from strangers, but technically you already did when you came to the factory because that was part of the prize. One more can’t hurt, right? You shrug and hold out your hand, sweet little you not suspecting any ulterior motives as she gives it to you; you pop it in your mouth and swallow it.

Suddenly you begin to feel sleepy and give a cute little yawn. Your eyelids flutter and you stumble a bit. You reach towards her for support and she gently takes ahold of you, conjuring up a sensory-friendly blanket for you and wrapping you in it.

“It’s okay, little (y/n),” she whispers softly to you as she picks you up. “I’ll take care of you from now on....."

As you drift into dreamland, Wanda’s mind is planning up a storm. Lifting you up, she takes you deeper into the factory, where she plans to make a sort-of safe room/bedroom for you. She goes through your mind to discover just what’s sensory-friendly to you and what isn’t. She wants to make sure you’re not uncomfortable. Your family will likely come looking for you eventually, but she’s a very powerful witch; she can make sure they believe it’s okay. Besides they don’t deserve you anyways; none of them could be bothered to come with you today, to take a few hours out of their day to enjoy this tour with you. It’s only fair that you be taken care of by someone who would make time for you.

Yes. You.

Her sweet little gumdrop....

“.....You’ll never feel unloved ever again....”

[spencessmile]

Mi Amour

Pairing - Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader 

Summary - Spencer finds out what Valentine's day actually means to you. 

Warnings - Slight mentions of death, but mostly fluff. 

Word Count - 1,791

And all imagines/fanfics/blurbs are written solely by me so please don't steal my work and/or post it without my consent. Feedback and Comments are welcome. Happy reading! 

A/N - HAPPY VALENTINES DAY!! I LOVE YOU GUYS!! 

Requests are CLOSED!

** 

“Spencer!” You kicked the door with your foot, “Come on, I can’t feel my damn arms,” You were juggling 4 bags of food on one arm as the other held enough alcohol to serve 100 people. “Spen-” The door flew open, revealing Spencer as he fixed his hair. “Help me!” You shoved past him, handing him the alcohol. You set down the food on the table, pulling out the chair and having a seat. 

“We could have just ordered this stuff, you know?” 

“We could have but I haven’t left my apartment in four days and I needed some fresh air.” 

“How much food did you buy?” 

“Oh, you’ll probably have loads of leftovers. Like Papa Rossi always says more food is better than less food.” 

“Did you happen to go to the grocery store and buy -” 

“Double stuffed Oreos and whipped cream? Yeah, the first thing I crossed off my list.” 

“You’re the best,” He beamed, skimming through the bags. 

“Oh,” You chuckle. “I know.” 

“How were the grocery stores?” He asked.

You shake your head as Spencer looks at you in amusement “Everyone is so giddy and full of fluff.” 

“Fluff?” Spencer laughed at your choice of word. 

“Yeah, holding hands, kissing in public, smiling with their teeth, being extra freaking nice, buying all the damn chocolate and different colored flowers in the world. Don’t even get me started on the damn stuffed teddy bears.” 

“Who did you buy these for?” He pulls a nice yellow bouquet out of the bag alongside a vase. 

“For you.” 

“Why?” 

“Because you need some colour in your life besides this were half off and I felt so ridiculous standing in that damn aisle. So, make sure they live longer than a week.” 

“On it,” You watched Spencer fill the case with water, adding the flower food, mixing it up, cutting off the ends of the stems, adding the flowers in the vase as he placed it in the middle of his small dining table. 

“Mmm,” Spencer stood behind your chair. “They do look nice.” 

“Yeah, they do.” You nod. 

“Did you bring the movies?” 

“Oh yes!” You reach for the bag on the far end. “It’s Disney night.” 

“101 Dalmatians, Aladdin, Alice in Wonderland, Bambi and Bambi II, Beauty and the Beast, Cinderella, Dumbo, Finding Dory, Finding Nemo, Lion King, and Coco,” Spencer reads out all the movies. 

“Just some of my favorites.” 

“These are just some?” Spencer raises his eyebrow at you.

“Disney and Disney Pixar have the best movies. Hands down. Don’t even argue with me on this.” Spencer nods, “Listen, I could have rented out the whole shelf at the shop but I controlled myself.” 

“I bet.” He nods. “Alright, which one should we watch first?” 

“I picked last time so your turn,” You watched Spencer flip through the movies until he landed on Coco. 

“I’ve never watched this one,” You looked at him shocked. “What?” 

“Oh my god, where do you keep your tissues?” 

“What why?” 

“Trust me, you're going to need them. You're going to need lots of them.” 

** 

Spencer and you sat on the couch, after watching the movie, boxes of sushi in both of your laps, eating in comfortable silence. You could feel Spencer’s eyes on every once in a while. 

“What is it, Spencer?” You asked. 

Spencer set down his drink and rubbing his neck. “Can I ask you a question?” 

“Shoot,” You replied. 

“Why don't you like Valentine’s day?” 

You had a feeling that Spencer would ask this question but you weren’t quite sure how you were going to answer it without breaking down, you didn't expect yourself to. 

“You don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to but I just always wondered. I’ve known you for 6 years and every year we do the same thing. You come over to my house with way too much food and alcohol. We sit here together and watch movies.”

“Are you saying that you don’t like my company?” You pretended to play hurt, just to pull Spencer’s leg. He immediately set down his sushi box and faced you. 

“N-No. That n-not what I meant. I didn-t mean to hu-hurt your feelin-” You laughed at how quick he panicked at your words. “Why are you laughing?” 

“No reason,” You set aside your box, grabbing your wine glass and settling down on the sofa again. "When I was younger my mom would love celebrating Valentine's day and she would celebrate it with everyone, not just my dad. I would wake up to the smell of bacon, pancakes, her famous buttery and cheese eggs, and cherry pie. My siblings and I would help her set up the table. Once everything used to be set, we'd make our way to their room and wake up my dad. We'd have a tickle war and jus-" You feel the tears pressing as you take a deep breath before continuing. "I remember laying there for several minutes, taking in the comfortable and peaceful silence of our little family. We'd have breakfast, play games, and simply spent the day with one another. We did the tradition every year growing up. When I was young, I asked my mom why she always celebrated Valentine's with us and never just our dad and she said 'Valentine's day isn't meant to be spent with just one person you love, it's meant to be shared with everyone you love. That there is always enough love within you to want to share it with others.' I mean, they could have dropped my siblings and me off at my grandma's and left to celebrate the day on their own, but she never did. She always chose to include us." 

Spencer was intently listening as you continued. "Every year I used to look forward to this stupid day, but one morning I woke up and my life changed forever." Spencer grabbed onto your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I was at my grandmother's the night before Valentine's, my parents and siblings were coming to pick me up but when I woke up in the morning I remember my grandma looking at me and without her saying anything, I just knew. It has never been the same since then." 

"Y/n," Spencer moved closer. "First off, I'm sorry about your family," You nod, you never once mentioned them to anyone on the team, it was far too painful for you. "Secondly, even though you're not going to believe me, what happened to your family isn't your fault." 

"Isn't it?" 

"No," Spencer shakes his head as the tears come streaming down your face. 

"They still would have been alive Spencer! If it weren't for me, they'd still be here. They'd be here with me, today. I would have been at home but now I don-" Spencer wraps his arms around you, rubbing your back. You stay like for a minute before pulling back. "Sorry, I did-" 

"You don't have to apologize." 

"The following year on this day I remember being so upset because I woke up to nothing. It was just quiet. I felt so empty and it just hurt so much. I just hated the fact that the one day that bought us together as a family was the same day that ripped them away from my hands. Ever since then, I've had this love-hate relationship with this day." 

Even after all these years of you convincing yourself that what happened to your family wasn't your fault, you couldn't help but think it was your fault. If they weren't on the road that morning, then you'd still have them. 

"I sulked around every year on Valentine's day until one day, I realized that my mom would have been so upset to see me doing that. She always celebrated that day with music, food, movies, and love. So, I decided to celebrate it just like she would have. Before I joined the team, I used to go out buy loads of takeout, grab a couple of my parent's favorite red wine bottles," You raise your glass. "I'd play our favorite music, watch the same movies we'd watch together, and stuff my face with food. It sort of became my tradition, my thing." 

Spencer's inside exploded as he noticed your smile getting bigger as you talked about your family. "I like that." 

"What?" 

"That you kept the tradition alive." 

"Me too." You beamed. 

"But why did you decided to share your sole tradition with me?" 

"I know that you and your mom probably spent loads of holidays and special days together up until you had to make the tough decision to put her in a care home. After that you probably didn't spend many special days with her," Spencer remains silent at your words. "So I took it upon myself to share the love with you because if my parents knew you, they'd love you. Even though it was rarely said I knew that my parents and sibling loved me a lot, so I decided to share some of that love with you because god Spencer, you deserve it." 

Spencer's heart was bursting at your words, he never heard anyone say anything sweeter. "Thank you." 

"For what?" 

"For sharing your love with me," You smiled.

"They're proud of you, you know that?" 

"I hope," You chuckle. 

"They should be because they raised one hell of a human being. Going through what you did and still having love to share, that's a difficult thing to do." 

"Yeah, I guess." 

"Let's toast," Spencer raised his glass. 

"To what?" 

"You shared your love with me so now I'm going to share my love with you," You looked at Spencer confused, he put down both glasses and leaned forward, your faces inches away from one another. He rubbed the tip of his nose with yours, giving you enough time to pull away, but you don't, instead, you wrap your hands around his neck. Soon after, his lips clash with yours as he pulls you closer. You wrap your legs around his waist. Pulling back you rest your forehead against his, "What was that?" Your heart was racing, eyes a little blurry as your mind was a little fuzzy from the wine. 

"Just sharing the love, mi amour." 

** 

All you have to do now, is listen to your soul - Seeker

[dizzydancingdreamer]

The Servant and The Prince | One

I did it-- I wrote something. Was it what everyone wanted? Gods no. But it is something. So do enjoy my lovelies-- a break from my not so regularly scheduled content.

Description: This is very much a Cinderella trope because I cannot help myself and I am in love with Loki 

Pairing: Loki x Female!Reader, third person as I may adapt eventually with an OC 

Warnings: violence but very minor, emotional abuse, some strong-ish language

Tags: Angst but you can imply fluff 

Word count: 3.8k

Next

Master List

“Did you pack my dress!” A shrill voice assaults her eardrums as she scurries towards the door.

It comes from a tall, thin, young woman. Her face and fingers are boney, her blonde hair falling in perfect waves down her back. The faintest aroma of honeysuckles and violets wafts off her creamy skin. She is beautiful, her step sister Anna. At least in theory. The sneer on her cherry lips and the hatred in her cerulean eyes, unclouded and accusatory, can’t be hidden by any length of silky dress or ruby lipstick, though. She is ugly, even if just on the inside.  

Y/n almost drops the bags in her hands- almost. She only flinches inwardly. She is used to the constant demands. Clean the house, cook the meal, wash my clothes. This and that and more. So much more. She’ll never flinch though. No matter what. That is a promise she made to herself too long ago.

“Yes milady. It is already in the carriage alongside the rest of your requested belongings. Is there anything else I can do for you before we leave?” Her own voice is gentle in comparison; a breeze trying to hold its own against a tornado.

Anna’s sneer deepens and she huffs, spinning on her heel, her dress spiraling around her in a show of pink tulle. She does not say anything as she storms away, most likely on her way to her mother’s ornate carriage. That’s another thing that is more beautiful on the inside than out. If only everyone else knew that Y/n’s step family is poorer than dirt. Estrid, Anna’s mother, hides it well under the last remains of her father’s hard earned money. Gold encrusted carriages and a large home and clothing dripping in jewels. He is gone though, Y/n’s father, and the money will soon be completely gone as well. If only people glanced a little further and saw her dress- not terribly tattered but hand sewn out of the plainest fabric- and the overwhelming lack of staff in the big home. The signs are all there, sitting in plain sight. 

That is exactly the reason Y/n is loading the carriage- a last ditch attempt for her step mother and step sister to rise back to the wealth they once enjoyed. There is to be a ball. A royal ball. Apparently it is supposed to be much grander than the solstice festivals her small village holds. She always thought those were magnificent; the dancing and the feasts. She loved attending them before her father had died. He would take her and her mother every year and they would find their seats under the stars, eating and dancing to their heart’s desire. Her chest squeezes painfully; she misses them both dearly. Now that they are gone those few days of the year are her only escape- the nights where she can pretend she is anything but a lowly servant. 

She blanches wondering how much grander the ball will be. Surely it will be more than turkey under the stars and the ribbon dances of her youth. It will be in the castle- in a ballroom bigger than her house and the neighbours combined. Bigger even. She has never been in a ballroom. Sometimes the village hall holds weddings but they are small and serve vegetable stew and play music composed of fiddles and flutes. All the things she is most familiar with. The castle will have things she does not understand. Clothes worth more than her life and the richest foods and music that is so intricate that she wonders if her ears will be able to withstand it. She has heard stories of how wonderful it is- and how magnificently out of her element she will be.

Y/n sighs, pulling her shoulders straight and hiking the bags further up her body. This is no time for dawdling- there is no time that can be wasted now. She drags herself and the bags out the door, sparing a quick glance over her shoulder at her family home. It used to be filled with warmth. The kind that comes with baking bread and knitting beside an open fire and laughter. Now the halls are bare. Almost all traces of her mother and father are gone. She wears them across her chest in her mothers old leather satchel. Along the side of the bag, little green Dahlias are sewn into the worn material. She brushes her finger over the side, taking a deep breath. Maybe the ball will be a new adventure- even if she is not to attend. She will still be visiting the capitol. 

“By Odin, what are you doing? We have to go now or we will miss the opening festivities! Move you little wench!” 

Estrid’s nasally voice sounds from behind Y/n seconds before a hand connects with her back, shoving her forward. The bags on her shoulders and arms add to the momentum from the push, the uneven weight more than enough to have her stumbling over her feet. She tries to catch her balance, rushing down the steps as though being led by the bags themselves, but it is useless. Her heel catches on the last step and she falls backwards, her back connecting with the cobblestones, her elbow piling into the stone step. White hot pain blossoms through her body, pooling like fire in her injuries. She swallows the scream in her throat. It tastes like iron on her tongue- like eating the burnt chips left in the pot after the meals are finished being served. It tastes familiar. 

A red heel stomps next to her, crunching on the cobble stone the same way her spine had. It lands inches away from her hand, narrowly missing her pinky. Y/n looks up, her features as schooled as possible, greeting Estrid with a bow of her head. Even that small action causes pain to spike through her lower back and she has to hold her breath to keep from crying out. She does not look at her step mother for more than a few seconds- she knows better than to do any such thing- but it is enough time to catch the familiar sneer. It is the same one she has passed on to Anna but more hateful. Honed. Estrid has had years to perfect her evilness, even if she does not look a day over thirty. She too is beautiful in her own dark way.

“You should be ashamed of yourself,” Elstrid spits down at Y/n, already on her way to the carriage as she passes by the crumpled girl. “It is as though you are trying to ruin your sister’s chance for happiness. You can never just be grateful, can you? It must always be about you. How pathetic.”

Y/n could laugh. She can almost feel it there in the base of her throat, bubbling with the scream and cries which are also locked away. Neither are forgotten yet- they never are. They just build and build and build like the wind that blows through her village in the spring, gaining enough speed to wipe out entire fields of crop. Now there is laughter on top as well. The cruel kind that makes her insides twist and burn. 

What a perfect way to describe how she feels; pathetic. She forces herself to her knees, followed quickly by her feet as she gathers the bags, mulling over the word. Pathetic. She hauls them onto her shoulders once again, trying her hardest to ignore the way her back and arm aches and the flood of fresh tears that rush to her eyes. She loads the bags into the back of the carriage, nodding at the driver. He looks at her with pity but remains silent as Estrid climbs into her plush seat. The word rings again, louder. Pathetic. 

Y/n tugs the satchel across her body as she climbs onto the back of the carriage, folding her cloak over her lap. Yes, indeed she feels pathetic, cast to ride to the capitol backwards with her skin exposed to the elements and her hair doomed to be a windblown mess. Pathetic does not even begin to cover everything she feels in this moment. If her step family is poorer than dirt than she must be something even worse than dirt as well. She feels so at least. 

Somehow, though, beneath it all, she also feels a touch hopeful. She is going to the capitol, after all. Her fingers scratch over the green Dahlias, thinking back to the night her mother had sewn them. 

“Little dove did you know that you are like a Dahlia?” Her mother’s voice was sweet and soft- the kind of voice that made Y/n want to lean in until she could feel the words in her soul.

“What do you mean, mama?” She was not really asking to hear the answer, rather speaking in order to hear her mother keep speaking. 

The glow from the fireplace warmed Y/n’s cheek as she leaned further. Her mother smelled of yeast and berries. She could still taste the jam on her lips, warm and sweet from desert. Strawberry pie was her mother’s specialty. The warmth combined with her full belly made her eyes close slightly, her body sagging against her mother’s legs.

“You are so strong my little dove. You are so soft and so elegant,” her mother’s hand smoothed over her cheek, her fingers as soft as silk. “But you are so powerful too, I can sense it. You are overflowing with it and kindness. So much kindness. How did I create such a magnificent little girl, hmm?”

Y/n giggles when her mother tickles under her chin lightly, pulling her hand away to continue on the pattern. Her stitches are meticulous and perfect- just like her mother. She watches as the vibrant green thread weaves below the fabric before reappearing. It happens over and over again, disappearing and reappearing like a little trick. She always loved tricks.

“Why are the flowers green, mama? I have never seen any green flowers in the meadow.”

It was true. There were pinks and blues and the most wonderful oranges. Never greens though. Only the stems were green.

“Oh my darling, you will one day. They do not grow here. They grow in the capitol by the hundreds, though. They surround the streets, growing high into the sky. They are beautiful, my little dove. Just like you are. You will see them one day, I promise you.” 

Y/n blinks away the image of her mother, letting a few of the tears drop as she does so. Nobody can see her here so it is okay now. It is times like these, in the midst of the worst and best moments of her life, when she misses her mother the most. She would do anything for one more gentle hug. One more whiff of berries and rising bread. She shifts on the stiff seat, her spine jostling against the metal frame of the cart and flaring in pain. She lets out a tiny cry, hoping it is masked by the sound of the wheels bumping over the stoney pathway. Her throat aches, squeezing at the stream of tears threatening her system. It is in this moment that she feels something foreign- something that will inevitably and unknowingly change her life as she knows it. Something that she is sure is not her own.

She feels angry.

*      *      *      *      *      *      *      *      *      *

Loki strolls over the castle grounds, his hands clasped behind his back and his shoulders straight. The sun is shining on his face, warm and soft. The air, like always, smells like pine trees and fragrant flowers. That is partly the cause of the woman next to him. She is beautiful, there is no doubt about it. From her golden hair, knotted in bands across the crown of her head, to her gown, a soft blue silk. It flows behind her as she walks, like a river carving from each step she takes. One of her dainty hands is curled around his arm. Usually he would mind the touching- contact with other people is not his thing. More so Thor’s, his untamed brother. With her, though, he swallows his pride every time. He would do most anything to keep his mother happy. 

He peers down at Frigga, his face stoic in comparison to the bright smile she wears. She still looks as young as she had when he and Thor were mere boys. Her cheeks and nose are slender, her skin unblemished by age. The only difference is that now he stands taller than her, looking down at her blonde hair instead of up at it from under her arms. He has no doubt that his mother will remain beautiful for a long time- even when her age finally catches up with her.

“You are staring, dear.” Frigga’s voice teases and his neck snaps straight, his eyes flicking back to the gardens of green around him. “You only stare when you have something on your mind. I presume I do not have to inquire to know what it is. I will anyway, though, if that is what you would like?” 

Her voice drips into a worried tone that only she can muster. It is sincere. It makes it harder for him to be angry at the small, beautiful woman. 

“You will anyway and we both know it.” He muses, reaching a hand out to brush one of the green flowers. 

The petals are impossibly soft. Dahlias. He remembers when his mother had them planted all those years ago. It was a week’s affair- the castle had smelt of earth and new flowers for days afterwards. He remembers playing in the mud with his brother. The laughter. It seems like a lifetime ago. That was when everything was simple; when he was not about to get married to a princess he would meet at a ball that he does not even wish to attend. 

Frigga sighs, pulling her son to a gentle stop. He obliges with a sigh that matches her own. “It must be done. By decree your brother and you should have been married a year ago. The royal ball is the way it has been done for many millennia. I have tried to slow tradition- to give you two as much time as possible- but there are some who watch us closely. They wait-”

He turns away from her, a scowl on his lips. “I know mother. They want us to show weakness. I understand the premise, I promise you I am not an idiot. I suppose I just do not see how a wife would make me seem less weak.”

He is a god- a powerful one at that. It is hard to believe there are many people out there able who are able to strip him of that power. It makes no sense to get married because of an outdated tradition- especially not for some sort of ruse. He is strong enough on his own; he always has been. Quiet and capable and strong. Independently so. He has never been much for teams. Besides, he doubts there will be many women attending with the hopes of meeting him. Not when his brother will be standing right by his side. The god of thunder. There are many things Loki can do- most of which are quite impressive. Tricks of the mind and the ability to create fire at will and so on. One thing he cannot do, however, is spout lightning from his fingers. He cannot compete with that level of visible godliness and thus there is no reason to attend. He is not second best and will not treat himself as such.

Frigga catches his chin, pulling him to look at her crystal eyes- the same crystal eyes which she rolls at him. “She will balance you, dear. The point is not to make you appear less weak. You are not weak. It is to make you appear happy. A happy prince means a happy king. Happy means powerful, Loki. it is power.” 

He tenses and her eyes soften. “I am happy, mother. I am happy on my own.”

She lets her hand fall to his arm, shaking her head. Her knotted hair bounces slightly. She is giggling again in the way that only mothers can- the kind of giggle that is all knowing. It makes his skin itch, his hands secured behind his back again. How is it that she always makes him feel seen even when he does not wish to be?

“Is there something you wish to say?” He grumbles to the woman, wishing he could hate the way she grins up at him with a twinkle in her eye. He cannot though, even if he tried. 

“My dear,” she hums gently, squeezing his arm, “I think perhaps you will come to revoke your words. That is all.”

Oh she is truly infuriating. There she goes again, so freely sharing her mind even when he has made it clear time and time again that he has no wish for a wife. Not only because he does not want to marry a woman he has never met but for other reasons too. The tips of his fingers turn to ice against his palms at the thought. He does not have to look down to know they are the brilliant blue that he so loathes. There is much he wishes to remain a secret beyond the confines of his household. He would rather not be married to a woman who thinks him a monster for the rest of his life. He will pass. 

He opens his mouth, ready to fire back at her annoying laughter, when suddenly he cannot speak. Not just that, though. He cannot breath, either, or stand for that matter. Soon the trickster god is on his knees, his hands digging painfully against the cobblestone path. His nails bite against the stones, his icy fingers now burning. It is nothing near the pain in his back though which flares as though he had just been kicked. Moments later his elbow erupts into pain as well, searing down the entire length of his arm. He grinds his teeth through the pain, his eyes screwed shut. 

“Loki?” Frigga’s voice holds none of the teasing it had only moments ago, only pure worry as she kneels next to her son. “Dear what happened? What is wrong? Shall I call for someone?”

His eyes snap open at that, his head shaking frantically. “No, no. I am fine. Do not call anyone.”

Even as he says it he knows that it is not true. His whole body aches as he rolls onto his feet, rising shakily. His mother’s eyes watch him closely, the blue clouded with something he does not recognize. He straightens after a moment, forcing the pain out of his mind. 

“Did you trip, dear?” Her voice this time is guarded, concealed with a falsely loose tone. 

Loki narrows his eyes. “No, I do not think so. It felt like someone pushed me. Do you know something about that mother?”

The scowl on her face is genuine this time, her golden brows creasing. “I sure hope you are not insinuating that I pushed my own son, Loki.”

He sighs again, guilt flooding his aching body. “No, mother. I am sorry-”

The end of his sentence drops into the space between them, cut off by an overwhelming feeling of agony. Not the physical kind, though. Yes, his back is screaming in pain as he stands on those dreadful cobblestones but that is not why he stops speaking. It is the wave of self loathing that hits him out of nowhere. It is hot and angry and cold and desperate all at once. 

It feels like when he was little and his brother had thrown him into the sea to teach him to swim. He had not been ready and he swallowed a mouthful of the salty water. It had been like cold lead in his lungs, weighing him to the bottom of the surf. He had been so scared, clawing towards the faint light of the surface with no luck. Everytime he got close the light seemed to shrink further back. Soon the icy lead had turned molten when he could no longer breathe, his chest constricting under the weight of the water. The fear had turned him into some sort of crazed animal until finally he had kicked his legs hard enough to break the surface and suck in a breath of air. 

It is the exact same way he feels now; panicked- like he has no clue how to get to the air again. He claws at his chest, his eyes blown wide. The world around him begins to spin. He is breathing- he knows he is, he can feel his chest heaving up and down- but he cannot taste the pine on the air anymore. He can only taste iron and salt and hatred, brash against his lips. It turns his vision red, his muscles tensing as though preparing for a fight in which he cannot identify the threat. Like the waves that pushed him under, the enemy is everywhere and nowhere. The only thing that makes it subside is his mothers hand on his cheek, warm and soft through the panic eating away at his chest.

He meets her eyes, squeezing his hands into fists at his sides. He grinds his words through his clenched teeth. “I have no idea what is happening to me.”

The small blonde swallows, her throat bobbing slightly. Her face is not the picture of shock like Loki’s is. Of course she is slightly panicked, he can see it in the way her fingers tremble as she brushes them down his shoulder. Somehow he knows that it is not the same kind of panic he feels. His all-knowing mother is stalling. It only serves to heighten the drowning feeling.

“I think I know what it is, dear.” She tests, her hands folding against her chest, clasping to hide the tremors.

Frigga’s response does little to ease the panic- if anything it makes it worse. Usually his mother is the only thing that can calm him. If he had to close his eyes and picture the person in which he feels most comfortable around- it would be her. Today though, that is to change. She seems scared. He pushes himself through the pain, biting through the iron and salt on his tongue. 

“What do you know, mother.” It is not a question- it is a demand.

She straightens as well, sucking in the air that he cannot seem to find for the life of him. It makes him jealous- angry.

“Well,” she flicks her eyes up to the sky, avoiding the next words out of her mouth. “I think you might have a soulmate, my dear.” 

[the-tiger-with-a-computer]

Twisted Wonderland NoSleep Au

Heartslabyul Part 3

Recap: After getting the chestnuts needed to make the apology tart the group now meets up with Trey in the kitchen.

Grim: We got the chestnuts. Now we can make a delicious tart.

Trey: We still have to peel them you know. It will be a challenge, but I know we can do it.

After peeling all the chestnuts Trey tricked basically everyone but Yuu and Cater into thinking that oyster sauce was needed for the tart. Then Trey released that he made to much marrow paste. So it was up to Yuu, Grim, and Deuce to go to the school store to buy the ingredients to make more whipped cream. The following happens:

Deuce: Wow, this place is amazing. Do you think this place actually sells the items we need?

Yuu: I believe so. I mean, back home it was pretty common for all types of stores to carry items like protection charms, bleach, scrubbers, and especially religious items.

Deuce: I can kinda understand the charms and religious items part. But why carry bleach and scrubbers?

Yuu: In case someone gets killed.

Deuce was about to ask Yuu to elaborate when Sam, the owner of the school store, came in to welcome Deuce and Yuu.

Sam: Hey, my lost little demons, how goes it? Welcome to Mr.S ‘s Mystery Shop. What can I do for you today? A charm for uncharted lands? Mummy of an ancient king? Or how about some cursed tarot cards?

Deuce: We’d like the things written here.

Grim: And some cans of tuna.

Yuu: We have enough tuna back at the dorm, we don’t need anymore anytime soon. Anyway, got any protection charms?

Deuce: No. No tuna or protection charms. Let’s just get the things we came here to get.

Sam: What what? Whipped cream, eggs… Oh! A nice sweet line-up. Ok! Coming right up.

Deuce: Wow, he really does have them.

Yuu: Well, the school store does need to have everything a student would need. And then some.

Sam: Sorry ‘bout the wait. It’s a bit heavy, you got it? If you order now you can get a 1/100 size floating platter to carry your purchases for 30% off.

Grim: What’s that? Sounds cool!

Deuce: We’re good. Thank you. It’s time to go.

Grim: But I wanna hang around more.

Yuu: If we hurry, Trey might let us eat something sweet.

Grim: Then what are we waiting for! Let’s get a move on!

Sam: Make sure to come by again!

*However as Yuu left with Deuce and Grim Sam couldn’t help but wonder about the new student. After what he has heard about their homeworld from Crowley sparked curiosity in both him and his friends. If what he thinks is true. Then Yuu might have come from a much darker world then his friends.*

On the way back to the kitchen Deuce offered to carry Yuu’s bag for them. When Yuu said that it was all right Deuce insisted saying that he was used to carrying heavy things as he would help his mom carry groceries. And since he was the only boy, he would be stuck doing anything requiring strength.

Deuce: Ah, I’ve just been talking about myself.

Yuu: Well I think that helping your family is a wonderful thing. Where I’m from, family is very important and to betray their trust would be to go against everything that both monsters and humans believe in. Helping your family, and anyone you see as family, is considered a very honorable thing to do. To do them harm is considered one of the worst things a human can do.

Deuce: Wow. You must miss them very much then. But, the thing is…. I always made my mom…

Before Deuce could finish his sentence he bumped into someone, breaking some eggs in the process.

Grim: Ahh! The eggs!

Deuce: $h*t, half of the eggs are destroyed! There’s egg all over the bag!

Delinquent A: Hey you! Watch where you’re… wait… You’re the fools who wreaked the egg in my carbonara earlier.

Delinquent B: It’s you guys again. You can’t catch a break!

Deuce: You were the ones who jumped out from behind the corner. At lunch, it wasn’t like you couldn’t eat the egg anymore but you still came to pick a fight… Just now, you destroyed half our eggs.

Grim: Yeah, that’s right.

Delinquent A: And? You sayin’ it’s our fault?

*Yuu, knowing that this will not end well, and with no way to defuse the situation stepped away from them. But at the same time they were ready to step in and help Deuce if it came to that.*

Deuce: Yes. Please pay for the eggs. And please apologize to the chickens too.

Delinquent B: Hmmm? You’re getting all worked up over eggs.

Delinquent A: They didn’t hit the ground right? Don’t sweat the small stuff.

Delinquent B: We saved you the trouble of breaking them.

Yuu could stand by no longer and decided to step in. After all, they had enough of these two boys nonsense.

Yuu: Well, you did damage what we payed for. I expect to at least be paid back in the amount the broken eggs cost. Think you can do that?

Delinquent A: Don’t think you can boss us around, just because we broke a few eggs!

Yuu: This is more than just about a few eggs. As I recall you two have been causing quite a bit of trouble as of late. Would be a shame if the principal knew of your antics.

*This was very much true as Yuu had used the ghost camera to take pictures of both the good and the bad. Let’s just say that Yuu had quite a bit of dirt on these two in particular*

Delinquent B: Is that a threat I hear?

Yuu: A warning actually.

Delinquent A: Looks like we need to teach these two a lesson.

Deuce: HEY! You don’t get to make decisions for us! These eggs… instead of becoming a chick they were gonna make us a delicious tart!! And you sure as he!! wouldn’t EVER hurt my friends! You get it! Huh!?

Delinquent B: What’s this guy’s problem all the sudden!?

Deuce: If you don’t wanna pay for the six eggs you broke… I’ll just punch you six times instead.

Delinquent A: Whaaaaa!?

Yuu: Time to fight!

Deuce: Grit your teeth a$$ho!e$!!

Let’s just say that the two never stood a chance. With Deuce’s experience in fights and Yuu’s self-defense training, they wiped the floor with the two delinquents.

Delinquent A: T-these two are straight-up mad! That wasn’t just six hits! Lair!

Yuu: OH! So you want some more huh!?

Delinquent B: Let’s get the he!! out of here! I’m sorry to all chickens!

Deuce: Apologize 100 times next you eat eggs! Dumb@$$e$!!

Grim: Wow!

Deuce: Huff, huff… Ugh!!

Grim: What just happened?

Deuce: …I screwed up… I vowed that I would definitely be a honor student this time…! In middle school, all I ever did was screw around… I constantly skipped school and spent my day getting into fights. I disrespected my teachers, hung around sketchy upperclassman, and bleached my hair to death. Even ran around all over the place riding a magical wheel. I was a terrible person that went as far as to use magic to lord over those that couldn’t.

Grim: Just now you went full on bad boy on those guys!

Deuce: Then one night... I saw my mom hiding away in tears as she called my grandma. "Was the I raised him wrong? Would it have been better if he had both parents?" She was wrong. Mom never did anything wrong. It was all me! So when the carriage from Night Raven College came to get me... My mom was so happy and I don't want to make her cry again. This time. I'm going to be an honor student my mom can be proud of. Then I do this... $hit!

Grim: But, y'know... Does being an honor student mean you have to grin and bare everything?

Deuce: Huh?

Grim: Those delinquents deserved another 10 punches if you ask me! You and Yuu fought them off before I could, though.

Yuu: I think that your mom would be proud that you are trying to be a better student. In my eyes, you are doing a lot better than back then.

Deuce: You guys...

Yuu: Even honor students get mad too.

Deuce: Really? ...Heh heh. May those baby chicks rest in peace.

Yuu: There is something that I need to tell you.

Deuce: What do you mean?

Yuu: The eggs that we bought will never turn into chicks as they were never fertilized.

Deuce: WHAT?!? You've gotta be kidding!?

Back at the kitchen, they gave the ingredients to Trey who then proceeded to finish making the tart. Which turned out to be amazing and looked really good.

Ace: Did something happen while you were out shopping?

Yuu: Chick shock...

Deuce: For 16 years... I believed that...

Ace: Making sweets takes so much time. I'm exhausted...

Cater: Good work! Is the tart finished? The decorations look super cute! It's totally magicam-gramble! Let me take a pic.

Ace: Ah! What'd you come here for?

Cater: I came by to check on my cute underclassmen, working so hard. Ahaha, you look beat!

Trey: Things you aren't used to tire you out quick. So when you're tired you need to eat something sweet. Go ahead and try the mont blanc we made.

Everyone: Yay!

Yuu: Are you sure?

Trey: It's fine.

Ace: Cater, you did come here just in time to eat the tart!

Yuu: Almost like you planned it.

Cater: Just a coincidence I promise.

Grim: Waaahaaa... It smells so deliciously sweet. The chestnuts on top are glossy while the cream underneath is so fluffy! Let's eat!

Yuu: Please don't eat it all. We still need a tart for the Unbirthday Party.

Grim: I know

Ace: Ah! Holy crap!

Cater: So good!

Deuce: Amazing... It's like what you get in stores.

Grim: It's not overly sweet but still has a richness to it! It's like a garden of chestnuts in my mouth!

Yuu: It's amazing! I definitely think that Riddle will love this.

Trey: Thank you.

Cater: Oh yeah. Hey Trey, do the thing.

Trey: The thing? ...Oh, that. So what are your favorite foods?

Ace: Mine's cherry pie and hamburgers.

Grim: My number one is canned tuna. And cheese omurice, and grilled meat, and pudding!

Deuce: If I have to pick, omurice, I guess.

Yuu: Mine would have to be breaded shrimp.

Cater: And mine is grilled lamb with diablo sauce.

Trey: Alright here we go, ... Doodle Suit!

There was a sound, a flash, and then nothing.

Deuce: ...? This is?

Trey: Now take another bite of the mont blanc.

Ace: Hm? Hmmmmm? This is... mont blanc but it tastes like cherry pie!

Grim: It tastes like canned tuna! *Chomp chomp* Ohh, now it's cheese omurice! And grilled chicken, *munch munch*, and pudding!

Yuu: Wow! It really does taste like breaded shrimp!

Cater: Isn't it fun? If you did this while having tea with a girl, they'd be super impressed!

Deuce: It's amazing. Is changing the flavor of food your unique magic, Trey?

Trey: Actually, it's magic that "overwrites a component". So not just taste, but I can also overwrite the color or scent or really anything. The overwrite only lasts a short time so that's why it's like a doodle or scribble. That's why I've named this magic "doodle" since it's not permanent.

Grim: With your "Doodle Suit" my dream of all you can eat canned tuna isn't just a dream. It's so much better than the magic Riddle uses to bully people.

Trey: No... My magic is nothing more than child's play when compared to Riddle's He's on a different level. ...It's getting late. Let's go home and give Riddle the tart tomorrow. Tomorrow is the Unbirthday Party. Don't be late.

Yuu: Hang on. Do you have a book of the rules?

Trey: Yeah, why?

Yuu: I want to make sure that there is nothing against a mont blanc at an Unbirthday Party.

Cater: Good thinking Yuu.

Ace: So, did you find anything Yuu?

Yuu: Here we are. Rule Number 562: Refrain from bringing marron tarts for the Unbirthday Party."

Trey: Wow, I almost missed that one. Good thing Yuu double-checked the rules.

Yuu: It's kinda a talent of mine. Knowing the rules and when a rule applies to a situation or not. It's weird, I know.

Cater: Far from it. If you hadn't checked then Riddle would have most likely been furious.

Ace: Yuu, I owe you one.

Yuu: Then I think that we should keep the tart in the kitchen, explain ourselves to Riddle and hope that he takes the collar off of Ace.

Ace: One more thing. Yuu, can you let me sleep over again? My cruel upperclassmen aren't going to let me in the dorm!

Cater: Wow. So prickly!

Deuce: Ace, don't force Yuu to spoil you too much.

Grim: Yeah! You gotta pay to stay! 10 cans of tuna!

Ace: What! Are you telling me to sleep outside?

Yuu: No, no. Ace, you can stay but now you owe me two favors.

Ace: Fine by me! Thank Yuu!

Trey: Deuce, why don't you stay in their dorm to keep an eye on Ace? As the vice dorm leader, I give you permission.

Cater: Trey, aren't you spoiling the newbies. I'm jelly. Yuu, can I go too?

Yuu: I don't think so. The dorm needs some intense TLC and I'm pretty sure that you're needed in the dorm.

Cater: Tch. Bringin' me down.

Trey: Yuu, I'm sorry about forcing those two on you. We're counting on you tomorrow.

Yuu: It's fine and I will be sure that they are on their best behavior tomorrow.

Ace: Tomorrow is the Unbirthday Party. This damn collar is definitely coming off! Just you watch, Riddle.

As Yuu, Ace, Grim, and Deuce made their way to the dorm Yuu coudn't help but feel as if something was very wrong in the dorm. And that Riddle was in great danger, but from what?

That is where I will end this chapter and the next will continue to the morning of the Unbirthday Party. Until then, hope everyone is doing ok.

[seasonsofeverlark]

Pumpkin Pie and Cheese Buns

Author: @evestedic​

Prompt: Hard working coming home for thanksgiving. Stops at the store on the way to pick up the dessert she didn’t bother to make no one will notice anyway and runs into their ex lover. Tries to leave fast but has to take the walk of shame back to grab the cranberries too. Arrives home not just with the cranberries and pie…  [submitted by anonymous]

Rating: T

____________

“God damn it!” Katniss was not happy. 

It was Thanksgiving, which meant she was being forced to spend time with people she didn’t even know.

Why?

Because they’re family, Katniss.

She could hear her Aunt Martha’s voice. 

Why should she care that her cousin was getting married?

Or that her nephew had gotten into college? 

Or that her godfather was slipping her a 20 buck bill while winking an eye at her? 

She wasn’t a total bitch, so she bore with it, but this was people she saw one fucking time per year! 

If it wasn’t for Thanksgiving, she was sure she wouldn’t see them again as they never even called. Nor did she.

But, be that as it may, Prim loved big gatherings and the attention; she was, after all, quite cheerful. Her father also bore with it, although better than her. 

However, who knew? This year her mother was coming with her new boyfriend. 

Ugh, puke… 

And that was why she was there, November the 26th, coming back from work and on her way to Aunt’s Martha’s house. 

Katniss was not happy. 

She had already left the store not five minutes ago, but something kept nagging at the back of her head while she accommodated the bags in the back of her car. 

Of course, being who she was, she had forgotten dessert. The pumpkin pie with maple whipped cream. Sighing and fuming, she went back to the absolute chaos of the aisles. If she arrived at her aunt’s without dessert…well, she would rather face a biblical plague. 

After perusing the dessert stand and seeing everything was completely wiped out‒not even crumbs were left‒she gave up and thought about getting some canned peaches and cherries.  That’s when she heard it…   

“Is that you, Katniss?” 

That voice. 

She had loved it at one point. Now, it was just nails on a chalkboard. 

Turning around, she set her eyes on a huge blonde guy; he had a perfect gym advertisement body, a smirk on his face, and his arm around a blonde girl with the same perfect gym advertisement body. 

“Cato.” 

“Buying for Thanksgiving?”

“No, just came because I was craving some peaches.” 

“Oh.”

Seriously? It was the most direct sarcastic answer ever, and he had actually believed her? 

Katniss rolled her eyes and was about to turn around when the Barbie clone spoke. 

“Is this the one, babe?”

“Yes, baby, that’s her.”

“Oh, I thought she’d be…I don’t know, prettier?”

“She never wanted to put in the effort, baby.”

“She is standing right here. And if working out turns you dumb, I’m glad I didn’t do it.” 

Katniss had gone out with Cato for two years when they were nineteen. Back then, he had been a kind guy, funny and perhaps a bit silly, but very nice, normal. He had asked her out after a college party, and she accepted; the rest was history. 

However, after one year of being together, he began frequenting the campus gym and suddenly started to change. All he could talk about were diets, exercise, and protein. Katniss was all in for a healthier life; hell, she knew if she kept on eating Greasy Sae’s food every other night, she was going to clog her arteries by the time she was 35, but Cato was relentless. He got rid of all of her comfort food and she had been forbidden to eat chicken and meat ever again. Only turkey and fish were allowed, vegetables, no dairy or eggs, no sugar! She was going crazy; Katniss had reached the obscene point of hiding in the bathroom to eat a Snickers bar, only to quickly brush her teeth and rinse with Listerine at least thrice so that her boyfriend wouldn’t taste any trace of chocolate when he kissed her. It was that night when she knew she couldn’t do it anymore. She no longer recognized the guy she had agreed to date or herself, for that matter. So, Katniss decided to end it right then and there. She skipped her next class and went to their dorm only to find him banging the very same Barbie girl who was in front of her in the canned aisle right now. 

Quickest breakup ever. 

He had said it was her fault for not ‘putting in the effort,’ and she hated him for it. 

“Jealousy doesn’t fit you, Katniss. Well,” Cato gave her a once-over, “I doubt anything does. Have you gained weight?” 

“If I have, that wouldn’t be any of your fucking business. What are you doing here? Came to buy something for dinner? I think there’s a celery and mineral water pack on sale.” 

“Still salty because I chose someone better?” Cato shamelessly licked the girl’s ear, making her giggle in an obnoxious way that made Katniss want to gag. 

She didn’t have to stand here and watch this; she-

Was that a hand on her waist?

“Hey, sorry I took so long. I literally had to wrestle this from an old lady.” 

That voice. 

Peeta Mellark was holding onto her waist and smiling that charming smile that could probably tame a wild animal, while proudly presenting a ham to her.

“Um…” Eloquent as always. 

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t know you were with friends.” 

“Yeah, no…Not my friends.” 

“Aren’t you the baker guy? You’re slumming it with the bakery employee?” Cato laughed while Barbie‒Katniss really couldn’t care less about her actual name‒looked at Peeta appreciatively. 

“I haven’t introduced myself,” Peeta said, extending his right hand but not letting Katniss’ waist go. Cato immediately took it, flexing his bicep as he did so, but his expression faltered when he shook Peeta’s hand. “Peeta Mellark, owner of ‘The Cake Lair’. Have you guys ever been?” 

Katniss was confused. 

It wasn’t as if she and Peeta were actually friends. They had talked, yes. She simply loved the pastries he sold, and because of how she had raved about his cheese buns, well…the double entendre put her in an uncomfortable position, but he had only laughed and thanked her for the compliment, as he had, in fact, baked those himself. 

Peeta always made sure to set aside at least two cheese buns for her prior to the end of the day. 

And okay, yeah, they had exchanged numbers and texted from time to time, but nothing deep. It was always things about the weather, the cheese buns, or how Prim was. Did that qualify as being friends? 

Katniss was awful at being a good friend, hence why she only had two: Gale and Madge. Her sister and father didn’t count; they were family. 

Shaking her head, she returned to the present to find that arm still around her and Cato’s face getting red. 

“Just let go, dude.  You’re about to pop a vein.” Peeta chuckled. 

Katniss directed her gaze at their hands; she could see they were both squeezing the hell out of each other. Cato probably thought he could scare Peeta off with his muscles, but he clearly hadn’t seen Peeta shirtless on a hot day, hauling 100-pound flour sacks onto his back as if they were light cargo. Peeta was strong, like ‘I could iron clothes on your stomach’ fit; he just didn’t flaunt it, and Katniss appreciated that.

Cato huffed and let go, and Peeta smiled once more and winked at Barbie, who was giggling like an idiot. 

“So, we should be going soon if we want to make it, Katniss. You know how Aunt Martha gets if we don’t get the groceries in time for her.” 

So yeah, she had told him about her hellish weekend to come last week, but Katniss didn’t think he would remember. 

With his hand still on her waist and her still not shrugging it off, they made to pass Cato and his doll, but, of course, the bodybuilder felt the need to use the sole neuron in his brain. 

“You know you’re just a replacement, right? I mean, she went and looked for the next guy that kinda looked like me because she clearly can’t forget me.” 

Tuck your thumb over your middle finger to make a proper fist. If you wrap your fingers around your thumb, you’re likely going to break it. 

Her father’s words and the boxing lessons came back in a flash, and before Peeta could hold her back, Katniss pivoted on her left foot, momentum aiding her, and connected her first with Cato’s jaw. She wasn’t an expert boxer or anything of the sort; she just liked the exercise, and she was strong. But Katniss must have been lucky enough to hit the sweet spot because Cato dropped to the aisle floor, unconscious. 

“Babe!” Barbie girl screeched, and suddenly, two more gorilla-looking guys were coming to her aid. 

Friends of his, no doubt. 

“Tell your boy toy, next time he wants to bully me to think twice, lest he finds himself beaten up again by a woman,” Katniss spat at the blonde girl. 

“You did this?” A broad and tall black guy asked. He was actually pretty scary, but Katniss held her ground and managed to nod. To her surprise, he chuckled and sort of bowed to her. “He’s an ass. I bet he had it coming. We’ll take care of him.” 

“Thresh! He’s your friend…” Barbie girl actually had tears in her eyes. 

“He’s not. We’re just in the same weightlifting class. And don’t cry; he’ll come to soon. Finnick, help me bring this idiot back.” 

“You must have a mean right hook, hon,” the guy with reddish hair and perfect teeth told Katniss. 

“I do.” She jutted out her chin proudly; her dad had taught her well. 

“Nice to know you have it all sorted out. Katniss, should we go?” Peeta was pulling her a bit, and she let him, both soon finding themselves out in the parking lot, having decided to leave behind the cans and the ham. 

Once they were in front of her car, Katniss did something she rarely did. 

“I’m sorry I cost you your ham.” 

Peeta seemed surprised, but he simply smiled. “That’s okay. There are a lot of hams left, actually; I just needed an excuse to walk up to you.” 

“Why did you do that?” 

“That guy was an ass, and I know you could’ve handled it on your own, but…,” he leaned in a bit and whispered, “doesn’t it feel good to let him know you’re with someone much better now?” 

Katniss couldn’t help it, she laughed. “You’re full of yourself, Mellark!” 

“Hey! I’m a catch, I tell you. Owner of his own bakery, hard-working; I know how to cook and bake, and I’m easy on the eyes, too.” 

“Not to mention, tons and tons of humility.” 

“That, too.” He smiled, and Katniss rolled her eyes, but she really didn’t feel angry with him. She hadn’t needed his help, but he had offered it freely without expecting anything in return. “So, I guess this is where we part ways.” 

“What are your plans for tonight, Peeta?” Katniss suddenly asked, and he was surprised as well. 

“Uhhhh, not much. Bake something? Eat it while watching TV, nothing exciting.” 

“You can come to my Aunt Martha’s, if you want. Prim would love to see you, and this way I can repay your ‘act of kindness’.” 

“Really? You sure it wouldn’t bother you?” 

“If it did, I wouldn’t have asked.” 

“Sure, I’d love to.” 

“Okay, but before that, there’s something I need you to do for me.” 

“What is it?” 

“Can you drive? My right hand is killing me.” 

                                                °•. ✿ .•°

“Why couldn’t you just buy it?” Katniss whined.

“Because I actually enjoy baking. You should know this already.” Peeta chuckled as he handled the mixer. After a few more turns, it seemed everything was ready. “I just need to flour the containers now.” Peeta patted his hands on his apron and went back to the pantry. 

Katniss took her chance. 

She slowly inched her hand forward, her eyes not leaving Peeta’s back, just in case. 

Two more inches and-

“I swear, Katniss, if you’re reaching for that dough I won’t make any cheese buns for a week.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” she exclaimed, shocked. That wasn’t fair! Peeta hadn’t even turned around, but he knew what she had been about to do. 

“Try me, love.” He then approached the table again, watching a grumbling Katniss cross her arms. “You know you can’t have raw dough while pregnant.”

“That’s a stupid rule. I bet it’s invented. How did women manage centuries ago, then?” 

“Oh, I don’t know. They sometimes died intoxicated, so no biggie.” Peeta was serious now. 

“I wouldn’t die over a bit of dough…” She said it under her breath, but he heard.

Peeta sighed, and Katniss felt a pang of regret. Damn him. “Katniss, do we really have to discuss this again? It’s Thanksgiving, and I’d bet my bank account Aunt Martha would come down here and force you to go to the party if you weren’t so-” 

“Go on, finish what you were going to say.” Katniss knew she was so big she might be in need of her own postal code. 

“-tired. You’re carrying twins, and that’s not an easy feat. The only thing she asked for was the pumpkin pie with maple whipped cream.”

“Every fucking year.” 

“She indulges during the holiday.”

“Why not just get one from the bakery?”

“She wants it fresh.” 

“Why doesn’t she come down here and get it herself?”

“You really want your Aunt Martha here? Right now? Today?”

“…No.” Why did Peeta have to be so logical? 

“I know you’re crabby and your feet are probably swelling. Let me put this in the oven, and then I’ll massage them with some of that lavender cream your mother gave you.” 

“And a bath.”

“A massage and a bath, you got it.” 

Peeta, of course, fulfilled his promise and left Katniss so relaxed she fell asleep and didn’t even notice her husband had gone and come back from the Everdeen’s annual Thanksgiving gathering. 

By the time she opened her eyes, he was sitting next to her, reading a book. 

“Hey…did you all get a proper rest?” Peeta put a hand on her belly, smiling. 

“I think so, yeah; they just started moving.” 

“I can feel. Here, let me help you up.” Peeta’s strength was no joke. He could single-handedly lift her up, yes, even when she felt like a whale, and prop her on the bed so she could sit comfortably. “That okay?” 

“Yes, perfect.” 

“Happy anniversary, love.” He presented her with a huge cheese bun, making her laugh.

“Peeta, just because we fucked for the first time four years ago today, doesn’t mean it’s an anniversary.”

“For me it is! Come on, I bet you didn’t think we’d end up doing it in the bathroom that night.” 

“I seriously didn’t.”

“But here we are, and that’s all that matters.” 

Her husband really was the cheesiest person alive, but she secretly adored that part of him. 

“Shut up and let me enjoy my cheese bun.”

“Your wish is my command.” 

[what-is-your-plan-today]

What The Stark Spangled F**k?

Drabble- Fuck Off, Clown

Summary: It’s Halloween, and Jamie’s outfit isn’t quite to Steve’s liking. Warnings: Non- some bad language...some almost smut, but nothing major...and a Super Soldier with coulrophobia... A/N: So if you all remember in Phobias, Steve admits to Katie he has a fear of clowns. I do as well, so this came out of a little fun chat with my Evangers (you know who you are girls) as a further expansion on the incident referred to in The Devil Wears Nada. Takes place during the 5 years post Snap. Hope you enjoy!

October 2022

“All set?” Katie asked as she reached the bottom of the stairs as Steve walked back into the hall having loaded their bags into the car. They were heading off to Tony’s lake-house for a few days where he was throwing a bit of a Halloween party, nothing major but it was a chance for the kids to get dressed up in costumes and eat a load of candy whilst the adults could kick back and drink. Katie was looking forward to it for two reasons. Firstly, it was always nice to gather together with friends and family, well those of them that were left post snap-it made her feel normal, and she could push that persistent feeling of sadness that seemed to manifest on a daily basis, back down into the depth of her mind. And secondly, she was a little excited because she had no idea what Emmy or Jamie’s outfits were going to be. Emmy had asked a month or so ago if she could be in charge of getting the pair of them costumes and Katie had agreed, simply handing over her card when she wanted to order whatever it was off the internet. She’d even resisted the urge to check her statement to see what it was as Emmy had demanded she didn’t try and find out. Katie had a sneaking suspicion that Tony had also been involved in these costume choices, as the last time her brother had been over a few weeks ago, the pair of them had been huddled on the large arm chair, sniggering as they looked at something on Tony’s phone. With that in mind she was expecting Jamie to come down in some form of Iron Man or Captain America costume and she had every intention of filming Steve’s response.

“Yup. Locked and loaded.” Steve nodded, dropping a kiss to her cheek. As soon as the kids are ready we can go.”

“No rush.” Katie shrugged, looking at her watch as they walked into the kitchen. “We don’t need to be there for a few hours.” She wrinkled her nose and slapped at Steve’s hand as he went to peek under the foil wrapped plate on the side. He sharply withdrew it and grinned at her.

“Tell me that’s a pie.”

“Apple and pumpkin, but it’s for the party.”

Steve pouted and she laughed and jerked her head behind her “There’s another there as I knew you wouldn’t be able to wait.”

“You-” Steve pecked her lips “-are” another peck “-the best.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere Captain.” She smirked as his lips hovered over hers, before he deepened the kiss slightly, both his hands sliding down to give her ass a playful squeeze before he stepped back and walked over to his coveted prize. Steve peeled back the little cloth that was over the top and gave a little groan that was positively sinful as he inhaled the smell.

“Don’t eat that straight out of the pie dish.” Katie warned him as he made his way to the freezer for the ice cream, “I was gonna cut a few slices for the kids to munch on the way.”

“Then they can get their own.” Steve grumbled a little, but he grabbed a plate none the less.

“Oh yeah, where from?” Katie asked, her hands on her hips.

“Don’t know, don’t care…” Steve muttered as he cut himself a huge slice of the coveted pie. He ladled a generous amount of vanilla ice cream on top then carried it over to the breakfast bar, sitting down as Katie gathered the rest of the food items she had said she would bring which included a huge dish of Mac and Cheese that she’d coloured green with food colouring, spaghetti and meatballs that were supposed to be worms,  cinnamon and apple cookies in the shape of pumpkins and a batch of home-made raspberry and cherry gin which had been done using the raspberries and cherries from the brambles and trees in their small orchard at the bottom of the garden. She began packing it all into a hamper as Steve took the first bit of his pie and gave another groan.

“You know…” he swallowed, waving his fork at her as he gave her a playful grin “I think this pie is actually better than sex.”

Katie looked at him, arching her eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“It’s a very close call.” He nodded.

“Well maybe I should make you a pie once a week instead of letting you get me on my back.” Katie looked at him, closing the lid on the basket and pushing it to one side, leaning over the breakfast bar.

“Ok, first off we have sex way more than once a week.” Steve pointed his fork at her “and second-“ his eyes glinted cheekily “-you’re not always on your back.”

“True.” Katie pursed her lips and reached for his fork, snatching it from his hand “But if you think I’m baking a pie more than once a week you’ve got another thing coming.” She used the fork to take a piece of the sweet treat along with a large blog of ice cream and shoved it in her mouth, closing her eyes. She moaned a little, ensuring that the noise that left her throat was as sinful as she could make it, before she opened her eyes and used her thumb to wipe at a little trickle of ice cream in the corner of her mouth. With her eyes locked on Steve she sucked her thumb clean and smirked a little at the familiar glint of dark in his eyes that he always got when he was turned on.

“You’re lucky you’re the other side of the breakfast bar.” He leaned forward a little, elbows resting on the marble surface, his voice a low timbre that sent those familiar sparks up Katie’s spine.

“Yeah? Why’s that?” Katie asked innocently, ignoring the sudden flutter she’d felt between her legs at his tone.

“Because if you weren’t you be in my lap right now testing my theory.”

“Shame…” she nodded, looking around. “I mean it’s not like you could reach and drag me over it or anything.”

“Well I could…” Steve agreed “But there’s a piece of pie in the way. And it’s too good to waste.”

“You’re a jerk!” Katie shook her head as Steve laughed, before he leaned back in the stool and patted his right thigh

“C’mere pretty girl.”

Katie grinned, the sound of him calling her pretty girl always did things to her, as did the soft instruction to ‘come here’ in his Brooklyn accent. She rounded the bar and he reached out, easily pulling her onto his lap so she was perched sideways, legs hanging over the side of his right thigh as he curled his left arm around her waist, right gently resting on her thigh. Katie’s right arm slid round his neck and he titled his face to look at her.

“Just for the record you taste far better than any pie you make.” He grinned and Katie’s mouth fell open at his dirty comment.

“Steven Grant Rogers!” she snorted, slapping his shoulder slightly and he laughed, his hand on her thigh tightening its grip slightly, fingers curling round the toned muscles which were evident once again due to Katie having started training again. Steve actually kind of missed the softness that she’d had since having Jamie but he was damned if he was going to tell her that. As long as she was comfortable in her body that was fine by him. He leaned towards her slightly, his nose bumping hers a little as she gently trailed her hand over the nape of his neck, nails scratching just below his hair line above the collar of his black sweater.

“Love you.” He said gently, his lips brushing hers and she smiled, her fingers tanging in the hair at the back of his head.

“More than apple pie?” she teased and he chuckled.

“Infinitely Mrs Rogers.”

“More than Mac and Cheese?” Steve hesitated and Katie scoffed “Rude.” Before he laughed again and pressed his lips to hers.

“For the record I love you more than anything.” He smiled “Well, apart from the kids.”

“I’ll accept that exception.” Katie chuckled, he mouth finding his again. The kiss deepened, Katie letting out a soft sigh as his tongue brushed against hers, tasting the apple pie and Ice Cream he had been eating before. Steve’s hand skated up the outside of her thigh coming to rest on her hip, finger tips brushing the strip of skin where her top had ridden up slightly as her own hand fisted slightly in his hair. Completely lost in one another they almost missed the little footsteps coming down the stairs and the giggles in the hallway. Almost, that is. Steve’s tuned hearing heard it first and he pulled back, looking at Katie who grinned.

“Play your cards right we can finish this later.”

“At Tony’s?”

“Yeah.” She shrugged “Won’t be the first time we fucked in his spare room.”

Steve snorted at her and patted her ass as she hopped off his lap.

“Mom, Dad!” Emmy called “We’re ready for you to see us!”

“We heard!” Katie called back as Steve stood up, grabbing his plate of pie. He took another bite before he wandered into the hallway where he collided with Katie who had stopped dead just outside the door. Frowning he looked up and stopped dead.

A clown.

His 2 year old son was dressed as a fucking clown. And not just any clown, which would have been bad enough, but that bastard clown from IT. The film he refused time and time again to watch because of said bastard clown…which was now stood on the bottom step of the stairs holding a red balloon.

And suddenly, all he could see was that damned clown at Coney Island chasing him through the stalls, Bucky’s laughter echoing in his ears…and then that fucking mirror maze where he’d had the panic attack as he was surrounded by them.

The plate holding his precious pie slipped from his hand and dropped to the tiled floor, where it broke into 3 pieces, its contents splattering all over the grey slate.

“Woah, Dad…didn’t think it would be that scary!” Emmy grinned from behind Jamie as she stood in her outfit, which was a superb replica of the Wicked Witch of the West complete with full green face-paint and a broomstick.

Katie looked over her shoulder at Steve and she could see from his face that he was really struggling to keep it together. Trying not to laugh at the expression of sheer horror on his handsome features, she clamped her lips together and turned to Emmy.

“Your dad’s…” she took a deep breath, trying not to laugh “He’s scared of clowns.”

“Oh…” Emmy frowned “Uncle Tony said he would love it.”

“I bet he did.” Steve bit out a little harshly and Emmy looked at him.

“Are you mad?” she asked and seeing the look on her face Steve inwardly cursed his phobia and his damned brother in law.

“No, honey…” he shook his head “Not at all…you both look…” he trailed off.

“Daddy, look!” Jamie grinned, and he jumped off the bottom step “Balloon!”

He toddled over towards Steve who automatically took a few steps back and Jamie stopped in front of him, right by Katie’s side, a confused expression crossing his painted face. “Daddy?”

“Yeah, pal…I gotta…” Steve exhaled “I gotta put some stuff in the car so we can to go to Uncle Nee’s ok?”

“Kay…” Jamie said a little quietly.

Katie watched, her shoulders shaking in silent laughter as Steve went to move round Jamie, turning sideways so he could keep his eyes on him, before he pushed past Emmy and bolted up the stairs taking them 3 at a time.

The hallway was silent bar the sounds Lucky was making as he cleaned up the remnants of the pie on the floor, not wanting to miss a single crumb of his human food treasure.

“Em, why don’t you two take Lucky and go get in the car, we’ll be out in a little moment.”

“Ok. Come on Jay!” Em said. She grabbed his hand but Jamie, clearly now finding the reaction his dad had as amusing, turned to his mom and made a little growling noise at her. Katie gave a fake scream and jolted back, causing Jamie to cackle a little, tilting his head back in mirth before he toddled after his sister.

As soon as they were out of sight and earshot Katie started to laugh. She laughed so hard that she had to retreat to the kitchen to sit at a chair. She doubled over, clutching at her stomach, trying to gather her breath as the tears poured down her face. Try as she might, she couldn’t get the image of Steve fighting the urge to punt his own son into another room out of her head.

Eventually she managed to sort herself out enough to grab her phone and swiped over to the number she wanted.

“Hey Kiddo.” Tony greeted

“Tony, you…” she started to laugh again “You better be able to run fast because Steve…he’s…”

Tony chuckled “he liked the costume then…”

“Tony he freaked.” She laughed “Like, seriously…poor Steve. I expected like a full Captain America outfit, not that!”

“Well, on this occasion the Spangles just weren’t enough”

“You’re a little shit, you know that?”

“It’s been said.” He conceded “Did you get it on video?”

“No.” Katie sighed “I was going to but when I saw Pennywise on my damned stairs I knew what was gonna happen so…”

“Shame.” Tony sighed, “We could have played that back later. For science.”

At that point Katie looked up as Steve walked into the kitchen, glancing round.

“He’s not in here…” She chuckled and Steve glared at her, before he gestured to the phone.

“That Tony?”

She nodded.

He reached out and snatched the phone off her, “You’re a dead man.” He growled down the handset, and Katie could hear her brother’s roar of laughter before Steve hung up and tossed the phone down onto the table.

“Calm down!” Katie laughed, standing up “Steve, it’s just a costume.” “Katie, they freak me the hell out!” he shook his head “You don’t…” his hands dropped to his hips and his head dropped “Did you see his face when I backed away?”

“Oh, he’s fine!” Katie said, rubbing Steve’s arms “He couldn’t care less.” Steve took a deep breath and she looked at him “Do you want me to get him to change?”

Steve shook his head “No, he was so pleased with himself…plus, I don’t fancy that particular tantrum now do you?”

“Not really no.”

Steve shrugged “Then I guess I’m stuck with it. Come on, let’s get gone. Sooner we get there the sooner I can carry out my threat to kill your asshole brother.”

Steve grabbed the food hamper and headed out to the car with it, settling it onto the trunk of the car as Katie got into the passenger side. Once Steve finished his usual checks to ensure the door was locked, he climbed into the driver’s seat ant they set off.

“Daddy?”

“Yeah buddy?” Steve asked, glancing in the mirror automatically and once more was confronted by that fucking clown. He swallowed and turned his eyes to the front.

“No scared, daddy. I not real clown.”

Katie chuckled as Steve pulled out of the drive onto the road. “I know pal, but it’s Halloween. Everyone gets scared at some point.”

Jamie nodded, accepting his answer and turned to look out of the window. As they approached a junction, Steve checked the mirror again and then sighed, shaking his head.

“You’re gonna hafta drive.” He looked at Katie.

“What?”

“I can’t do it.” He shrugged “Every time I check the mirror, all I can see is…” “Are you being serious?” Katie looked at him.

“Absolutely.” Steve unclipped the seatbelt and climbed out of the car.

And right then Katie vowed that if Steve didn’t kill Tony, she was gonna.

[poisonepel]

School Uniform Story Notes ✨ (1/2)

this is for the people like me who can never remember which story a certain scene you’re trying to find came from 💢 and for anyone else who just wants to know what happened 😭😭

Part 1: Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Octavinelle, Scarabia Part 2: Pomefiore, Ignihyde, Diasomnia (coming soon!)

Riddle 🌹 There’s No Drawback to Not Knowing

Ace and Cater discuss which phone cases are in style right now; Riddle doesn’t know anything about the latest trends but he’s fine with that because it makes no difference to him. When Ace tries to explain them, Riddle repeats that it’s not important and snaps at them to go somewhere else. Once they leave, he mutters to himself that he’ll look into them later.

They mention that a paper talking about new discoveries in the history of the Land of Hot Sands was published (which affected everyone’s history tests) 👀 I wonder if that involved Jafar at all

Riddle doesn’t check the results of his exams because he knows he always gets 100%

Cater’s phone case is considered trendy right now lmaoo

Ace mentions wanting a phone case design featuring creatures with “fuzzy heads and legs growing out of their eyes” (the momeraths??)

Ace ♥ Such an Honest Freshman

Ace helps Trey carry back groceries from the store, under the guise of wanting a piece of pie with lots of cherries on it in return. Trey suspects that he wants more than just some cherry pie—Ace ends up spilling that he wanted Trey to tell him which topics would be covered on their history tests.

Ace’s brother is 7 years older than him, and used to take him lots of places together 🥺

Trey usually reads or does homework to pass time at the dorm; he didn’t slack off even as a freshman because he knew Riddle would be coming the year after and he didn’t want Riddle to be angry with his grades 😂

Trey used to make sweets for his little siblings when they pestered him for them!! And he’s been helping around his family’s bakery since he was little

Deuce ♠ One With the Wind

Ace can’t decide which club he wants to join since they all sound tempting. Deuce mentions he joined track and field because there was no Magical Wheel club, which gets him started on a tangent about how much he loves those motorcycles and how he can’t believe Ace has never even touched one.

Deuce tried to open a Magical Wheel Lovers Club but Crowley rejected it

When he was little, Deuce used to get Magical Wheel magazines and admire all the models 😂😂

Magical Wheels are fueled by the drivers’ magic power 👀

Deuce loves the high-speed feeling of “becoming one with the wind” (ie. going really fast on a motorcycle, also sprinting and things for track and field)

Cater ♦ The Portrait of Rosalia

Cater tries to get Kalim and Leona to join a party to keep the lonely portrait Rosalia company. The truth is, he just wanted to put Rosalia in a good mood so she’d share what would be on the next history test with him.

Rosalia hangs in the west school building (the rose in the west wing??), near the staff room and has been there for years; she knows stories about magift tournaments from the past.

Cater implies he knows some secrets about Kalim 🤔

Mentions that Leona comes from a ‘ladies first’ culture

Trey ♣ Open Your Mouth

The Queen has a rule saying that if you eat turkey for dinner, you must brush your teeth two times that night. Ace tries to get away with only brushing once, but Trey catches him and asks both him and Deuce to let him smell their breath to make sure they both brushed at least once already; then he apologizes because he used to do that with his little siblings and it became a habit. He proceeds to give them detailed advice about brushing their teeth.

I didn’t like this one lmao it felt kind of pointless

But anyway Trey knows weirdly thorough tooth-brushing techniques, a lot about teeth in general, and has multiple brushes for focusing on different parts of his mouth 🦷

Leona 🦁 I Grew Up Spoiled

Vil needs Leona to take some pictures with him for the school newspaper. Although reluctant at first, he eventually agrees because Vil won’t stop annoying him about it. Before they go to the shoot, Vil notices one of the buttons on Leona’s vest is coming off and offers him his sewing supplies to fix it. But Leona says if he wants it fixed he should just do it himself (also Leona grew up spoiled and doesn’t know how to sew). Vil gets really salty with his attitude and says he’ll only do it because he needs “his props” to look pristine.

They’re both super catty with each other 😂

At one point Vil said the button wasn’t the right one and asked for a different one; Leona handed him a new one and said “Oh btw this is a magic button, it always comes back even if it comes off.” Vil was like “????” and Leona explained sometimes he’ll leave his clothes that lost a button in his room, and he’ll find it later with this button sewed back on again

Vil said it’s probably Ruggie who quietly sews them back on for him 😭😭 but smh Leona just replied “Oh well same deal, it always comes back”

Jack 🐺 I’ll Expose Your Crimes!

Jack smells something weird in the cafeteria and decides to go investigate. The smell first leads him to the Leech twins; he wrestles Floyd for this suspicious briefcase that they have (turns out there was just a beauty serum inside that they were bringing to a customer). Then Jack realizes the smell was actually coming from Epel; he forcibly pulls a container out from Epel’s jacket pocket and finds... several types of onion product in there (Jack hates onions). Epel reveals he’s been hiding the onions because Vil is forcing him to eat really bland food and the onions help give them flavor.

Jack suspected the smell was a chemical leak in the school and his first thought was “I won’t be able to get in today’s workout!!” sir,,,,,

His sense of smell gets immensely better in his wolf form

After they sorted everything out, Epel invited Jack to sit with him for lunch 🥺

Ruggie 🐆 In Grandma’s Hands

Ruggie comes down to the cafeteria in the middle of the night because Leona wanted a midnight snack. He finds a bunch of vegetables in the kitchen and decides to make some soup with them. Jade appears and informs him that those actually belong to him; to avoid having to owe him any debts, Ruggie offers to teach Jade some ways to cook them, since the reason Jade had left them there in the first place was so that he could ask the ghost chefs for recipe suggestions in the morning.

The awkward laugh they shared when Ruggie realized the vegetables were Jade’s tho 😂😂 I wish the side stories were voiced omg

The one who taught Ruggie all of those recipes was his grandma

Also Ruggie sings while he cooks 👁👁💖

Azul 🐙 Just One Die

Idia brings a game called The Magical Game of Life to one of the board game club meetings; Azul gets very passionate about it despite at first turning his nose up at games that only rely on luck. Eventually he starts practicing how to perfectly throw a die to land on the number he wants so he can cheat the luck factor.

Azul.... honest to god he never slacks off 😭

Jade 🐬 A Mindset I Can’t Understand

Jade is making teas in the middle of the courtyard when Kalim stops by to see what’s going on. Kalim ends up talking about teas from his home, and Jade asks if he could show him how to brew the special tea they have for guests. It’s supposed to be super sweet so Kalim insists on dumping as much sugar as possible into the cup, but Jade really hates sugar.

Kalim got so disgusted when Jade was talking about his raw meat diet in the sea 😂😂

But also Kalim 🙏 He tries so hard to help everyone but he always happens to miss the mark

Floyd 🦈 Talk with Me About Something Fun

Floyd gets bored working on a report so he decides to go bug Riddle, insisting that they do their homework together. He helps Riddle find a book he needs but won’t quit playing around with him over it. In his anger, Riddle brings up how differently Jade is compared to him, and Floyd immediately gets bored and leaves.

The book Riddle needed was called “The History of Magic Carpet Weaving”

Kalim 🦂 Let’s Get Along!

Kalim is shopping at Mr. S’s Mystery Shop for the Scarabia 1st years welcome party. Riddle asks him why he’s the one running errands and not Jamil (the reason was that Jamil was stressed with how Kalim was handling the decorations for the party so sent him away basically 😂). Kalim ends up inviting Riddle to the party; he only agrees after he hears there will be a magic carpet there.

Kalim is so rich it hurts 💀 Riddle called him out for yawning during dorm leader meetings and he said “If I yawned at Scarabia, Jamil would just get my bed ready for me!”

When he was talking about the magic carpet Kalim said “Let’s go to the end of the world together” (Was that the name of the wintry tundra in Aladdin??)

This is the one where Kalim talks about how he only eats Jamil’s food because he used to get poisoned as a child; his dad & Jamil had told him “This is the fate of the oldest son of the Asim family”

Jamil 🐍 I Mean It

At lunch, Kalim and Ruggie go get food for themselves plus Jamil and Leona; while they’re waiting, Leona implies that Jamil might try to hurt Kalim someday, much to Jamil’s offense. Later Ruggie and Jamil mull over having to work with their respective ‘masters.’

Leona’s intelligence is often downplayed bc of how lazy he is but he really is good at figuring things out 👁 This was shown in Cater’s story too.

Ruggie and Jamil having that little squabble about how they think each other’s masters (for lack of a better word) would be more difficult to deal with was kind of cute 😂

[twistedtranslations]

Trey Clover - If you started to enjoy it

You can unlock this story by getting Trey’s SSR Dorm Uniform

Translation under the cut

Heartslabyul Dorm - Rose Maze

Ace: Isn't it unproductive to take care of the lawn? Those weeds’ll grow back in no time even if you properly pull ‘em out.

Deuce: Sometimes I really resonate with you, Ace. I feel like we’re stuck doing this forever with no end in sight.

Trey: Come on guys, don't slack and keep at it. A perfect lawn is essential for the "Unbirthday party".

Cater: If the garden looks unseemly, I can't take a pretty picture. After the weeding, the pruning awaits you! Fight on!

Ace: Huh, why do only the first years have to…

Trey: The only thing the first years are in charge of is the rare croquet game. The second and third years have other serious jobs to do. Everyone helps to prepare the party. That is what the law of the Queen of Hearts states. By doing our best to cooperate for the preparation, we can develop a better sense of unity… Don't you think that's surprisingly suitable for us?

Ace: ... I feel like everyone’s only cooperating because they fear the dorm leader will have their heads.

Deuce: Then what are you guys in charge of?

Cater: I'm preparing the venue~ Please look forward to an exciting arrangement!

Trey: I'm making the cake. An "Unbirthday party" is not complete without a cake after all.

Ace: Yay! We're getting your super delicious cakes! What kind of cake are you baking this time?

Trey: What kind of cake?… Hm, it's something I can't explain so easily. The definition of an "Unbirthday party" is a party with no birthday. There's no cake really fitting for that.

Ace: I think that depends on the sense and ideas of the creator… Ah. Doesn't that mean that the cake itself can be any kind? But melon tarts are a no go.

Trey: Huh? Ah, I understand. According to the laws of the Queen of Hearts… "The cake should have a candle" and "Melon tarts are prohibited" are the only rules…

Ace: Okay, then why don't we go for a cherry pie base instead of the usual cake! The sweet sourness is great and the crunchy pie dough makes for a perfect texture! … I like it better than anything else.

Deuce: Ace, don't trouble Clover by saying shoving your requests in. Furthermore… A chiffon cake made with lots of eggs is better than a cherry pie. The humble sweetness makes it digestible for everyone.

Ace: Now you're just making requests for the thing you want to eat!

Deuce: I-I'm not. I'm thinking about the entire dorm…

Heartslabyul Student A: What, are we requesting cakes? I want a chocolate cake!

Heartslabyul Student B: I'd like a cheese cake!

Heartslabyul Student C: A cake doesn't have to be limited to sweetness. Trey, why don't you try something like quiche?

*muttering*

Trey: There, there, guys. I never said I was taking requests from anyone! And in the first place, I'd have to prepare the ingredients. Immediate changes are hard, you know.

Ace: With your skills you'd be able to manage it~

Cater: I understand why you guys are pleading with our genius patissier~ But don’t you think you’re putting him on the spot by pestering him?

Heartslabyul Student A: But no matter how delicious a cake is, eating the same thing repeatedly will make you tired of it.

Ace: Ah, right? Fresh flavors are also important… I’m fed up with it, I want to eat something different every time.

Trey:… I see. Then why don't you guys try making the cakes yourselves? That way, you can eat your favorite cake. Our college endorses the study of cooking with the elective subject "MasterChef".

Deuce: Now that you say it, "MasterChef" is a practical class, right?

Trey: Yes. It's a traditional program from the past to teach students how to cook for themselves after graduation. It's not a mandatory subject, so few students take it, but it's very informative if you want to learn the basics.

Heartslabyul Student A: Hm… then we should try it. You can make it look so easy.

Heartslabyul Student C: It seems much more fun and easy than maintaining this plain law!

Trey: There's always a shortage of helping hands for making sweets, so if you started enjoying cooking because of that, you'd really help me out. Then I shall hand my kitchen utensils over and you guys can be in charge of the cakes.

Deuce:… Ace, you should apologize for that just now. For the whole being tired of his cakes and there not being new flavors…

Ace: You should too. Trey was simply too kind and didn’t get angry.

Deuce: Yeah… Even so? It's true that Trey is an adult, after all. It's rare for there to be helpful and nice people amongst the student body of this college… If I was being told that the job I had to do was "Easy, ", I would get pissed off.

Ace: If you got pissed that easily, you wouldn't be able to take care of our impatient dorm leader.

Cater: You're right. I haven't seen Trey get angry much~… Well, if you do make him angry, he drags it on for a fairly long time.

Chapter 2

Heartslabyul Dorm

Riddle: Unbelievable. Who was slacking for things to end up like this? No one has pruned the lawn, the colors of the roses are inconsistent and the tableware has not been polished! We won't be able to make it for tomorrow's "Unbirthday party"!

Trey: Calm down Riddle. Why don't we try to finish the party with no beheadings?

Riddle: Urgh…

Trey: There's no one who can do everything perfectly from the start. As for the first years, how about I teach them some magic that can help them prune the lawn more efficiently? If we finish everything carefully, one by one, we might make it in time for the party?

Riddle:… You are right. I understand. Thank you Trey.

Trey: Okay. I shall check the roses that still have to be painted… but before that, I'll check up on the kids in the kitchen, just in case.

Heartslabyul Dorm - Kitchen

Heartslabyul Student A: I'm making a chocolate cake but the chocolate won't melt. I'm putting all the chocolate bars in the oven!

Heartslabyul Student B: Weren't we making a cheesecake? I'm pretty fussy about cheese. Let's try making some with magic from milk.

Heartslabyul Student C: Didn't I say it was going to be quiche? By the way, does anyone know how to handle this fish…?

Trey: How lively. I see, do your best.

Cater: Ah, Trey. Dif you feel like watching over the first years who are encouraging each other to make cakes?

Trey: Kind of. Is the construction of the venue you're in charge of finished?

Cater: *sigh*… I'm really doing my best… I've been getting more nervous the more the "Unbirthday party" nears and lately Riddle has been in a super foul mood~ If we make one more mistake he might explode.

Trey: He hasn't exploded yet, so you can just proceed, right? That guy is also doing his best.

Cater: And there you go. You're coddling him! You guys have that kind of relationship because you've been together since childhood, right? I don't have childhood friends so I don't really understand, but don't you tire of it?

Trey: Actually, back in the days, he really didn't carry that angry image with him. He might feel responsible now because he is the dorm leader.

Cater: Huh, really? But the rumors say that he inherited it from his tiger mom?

Trey: Hehehe. They say that, but Riddle's mother wasn't really like that. When it was revealed that Riddle came over to play, she marched into my home, looking ten times more threatening than Riddle, and lectured our family for five hours.

Cater: Scary… you really shouldn't laugh that much, Trey!

Trey: Thinking about it now, I can make fun of it. That someone can get so angry about a child playing. But now that you say it, it was really scary at that time. I totally didn't understand why she was angry…

Trey: I was really worried whether or not I was guilty of doing something terrible. When I asked Che'nya, he merely said "I don't know nya~", so I had no one to talk it over with. And I think she got way more angry at Riddle than I, so I felt really guilty.

Cater: Heh. You were pretty serious since you were small huh… Are you the anxious type?

Trey: I think anyone who met that mother would be. In any case, once you made her angry, she was untouchable. If you think about that, I'm just grateful that sweets seem to cheer Riddle up.

Cater: About that! I totally understand why your tarts cheered Riddle up earlier. Honestly, your cakes deserve the graces of god. How many times have they saved me in this year…

Trey: Flattery doesn't work on me. Besides, this time, it seems I wasn't up to the task and had to relinquish my position.

Cater: Hahaha… Yeah. At least I didn't imagine he was angry.

Trey: Did you say anything?

Cater: Nothing~

Heartslabyul Dorm - Tea Garden

The day of the unbirthday party

Ace: S-Somehow… I captured all the hedgehogs that ran away in time for the party…

Deuce: The flamingos are perfectly on stand by. With this, the perfect party can start.

Trey: Thank you, you two. It seems you had a lot of trouble preparing.

Riddle: At one point I even thought about what would happen to this party… but it seems that despite all the "Unbirthday party" can start.

Cater: Riddle seems satisfied. It seems like no one will get beheaded today~

Riddle: Oho? I do not see the cake anywhere. Where is it?

Heartslabyul Student A: Uhm… It's…

Riddle: The "Unbirthday party" cannot start unless there's cake. Hurry and fetch it!

Heartslabyul Student B: U-Understood.

Ace: Hm? Don't you think those guys who made the cake look a bit pale?

Trey: …

Chapter 3

Riddle: The "Unbirthday party" cannot start unless there's cake. Hurry and fetch it!

Heartslabyul Student B: W-We brought it.

Heartslabyul Student A: We made this with our utmost effort… A special cake made by the first years.

Everyone: ?!

Deuce: Cough, cough, what's that stench! It smells sugary and smoky and of meat and fish… The acid and spice are hurting my eyes!

Cater: The green syrup, the blue cream and the shocking pink decorations… It's more art than a cake. I could upload it to Magicam with the tag #DestructionandCreation.

Ace: Hey, didn't it move? That cake definitely moved just now? Are you sure it's edible?!

Trey: You really did it. You guys made another intense cake. Just how did you make it like this?

Heartslabyul Student A: Ah, it's not my fault. It's his!

Heartslabyul Student B: Y-You're wrong! It's you who… No, wait? Isn't it Ace who said from the start that he wanted to eat something different? Didn’t he start it?

Ace: Maybe I said that, but you guys made it? I have no hands in this!

Heartslabyul Student C: Then it's Deuce's fault who said that chiffon cake would be nice and started a quarrel.

Deuce: D-Don't involve me! You made your own mess and you can clean it up yourselves!

*fussing*

Riddle: …

Cater: Uhm, Riddle? Let's stay amiable, 'kay?

Riddle: You guys!

Everyone: Argh!

Cater: S-Shit. We did our best, but Riddle is going to explode…!

Riddle: To think you dared to make such a messy cake for the dignified "Unbirthday party"… I hope you are all prepared?!

Ace: Aah! Why us as well!?

Deuce: Dorm leader Rosehearts, please calm down! If we apologize, will you accept…!

Riddle: Do not bother with excuses!!! Off with…!

???: Stop!

Deuce: Huh, that voice is…

Trey: Calm down Riddle.

Ace: T-Trey!

Riddle: What's this Trey, release my arms. I cannot chastise the first years who made a mess of the "Unbirthday party" like this!

Trey: … It is true that this cake does not seem edible by its appearance. It's not appetizing, and the smell is awful. It's laughable.… But wouldn’t you say that a cake made by the combined ideas of the first years is very Heartslabyul-like? With that said, isn’t it quite wonderful?

Riddle: I do not think so in the least!

Cater: Right~

Riddle: Furthermore, there is no candle on this cake. They did not obey the laws of the Queen of Hearts! Why did you not make the cake as you usually do? If you did it normally, something like this would not have…

Trey: I understand, I understand. You don't have to be that upset. Isn't this your long awaited "Unbirthday party". It's fine. I put some cakes aside that I make every time for the "Unbirthday party".

Everyone: Huh?!

Trey: The "Unbirthday party" is Heartslabyul's most important day. It's not like I had any intention to slack?

Riddle:… Then you should have told us earlier. I would have reflexively beheaded the dorm students. The "Unbirthday party" can continue without problems. You guys, thank Trey for that.

Heartslabyul Student B: W-We're saved!

Cater: As expected of you, Trey! Okay, everything is ready. Let's start the "Unbirthday party"!

Trey: Indeed, let's start.… Congratulations on the "Unbirthday party"!

Everyone: Congratulations!

Ace: T-Trey… No, Master Trey! You saved us!

Deuce: I really thought I was going to be beheaded. Thank you for persuading our dorm leader!

Cater: As expected of you, Trey! Just when did you make the other cake?

Trey: Yesterday evening, secretly, when everyone was asleep. I had a bad feeling, so I made it just in case.

Ace: Your cakes always look so delicious~ Just by looking I can feel my belly growl.

Deuce: Aah, I really want to eat it as soon as possible.

Trey: But weren't you two tired of these kinds of cakes?

Deuce/Ace: Huh?

Trey: It seems you guys were tired of eating the same thing every time and wanted some new flavors, so don't worry, me and Riddle will eat this one.

Cater: The first years telling you they were fed up with it really pissed you off, didn’t they?

Ace: T-Trey, please don't be so mean. That was just a slip of the tongue…

Deuce: Indeed! We think your cakes are the best. Right, everyone?

Heartslabyul Students: Yes! We want to eat your cakes!

Trey: … Then you guys understand, right? That making sweets isn't something you can do haphazardly. You have to consider all the risks, make plans beforehand and adapt yourself to the situation at hand… If you can do all that, it can become a routine. You don't have the comfort to make these things at peace.

Ace: Uhm… just to verify, but we're still talking about making sweets, right? Because it sounds an awful lot like you're talking about the dorm leader…

Trey: In any case. Do you now understand my hardships?

Deuce/Ace: Yeah…

Trey: Okay, I'm glad you're honest.

Deuce: We learned a lot.… Thank you for existing, Trey's cakes.

Heartslabyul Students: Bon appétit~…

Trey: Wait.

Deuce/Ace: Huh?

Trey: What do you guys intend to do with the cake you made? You shouldn't waste food. If you're not going to eat it, I won't let you eat the cake I made especially for the "Unbirthday party".

Deuce: W-We have to eat this shitty cake?! We already repented, but it seems just words aren't enough…

Ace: Where has our mature and kind Trey gone…

Cater: The gentler a person usually is, the scarier they'll be when they're angry! Treat this as an opportunity to learn.

[likeshipsonthesea]

I dare you to post their get together from chowder's perspective because you're an amazing and magical writer and I'd love to read it at any level of editing

well u did dare me :P inspired heavily by this post

the thing is, chowder really, really loves his new friends.

nursey is so cool and funny and nice and he knows all this poetry that sounds so cool and he always saves chowder a piece of pie when he isn’t there and bitty’s on a baking binge, and he helps chowder write Important Emails and doesn’t even complain when chowder asks him about the exclamation point in the third paragraph for the fourth time

and dex is really smart and has a dry sense of humor and he cares so much about people even when he pretends he doesn’t, he does his laundry when chowder does and lets chowder match all the socks while he folds both of their clothes with like retail level precision and he’s great to sit and work on coding with and never gets upset when chowder interrupts him to ask him why a certain part isn’t working right and he helps bitty make him soup and pastries when he gets sick right before finals week their frog fall semester

and they’re both swawesome at hockey, they do their very best to keep the dirty puck away from his net, and they are such swawesome people and literally the only thing he doesn’t like about his new friends is how adamant they are about not liking each other

he tries, at first, to correct their complaining when they come to him. “the guy refuses to listen to anyone who isn’t himself,” nursey groans, muffled, because his face is pressed against chowder’s pillow, and chowder very kindly explains that dex is a bit stubborn sometimes but he always listens to chowder, even when he has a differing opinion, and when dex wraps himself in chowder’s duvet like a burrito and grumbles out, “he acts like he’s chill all the fucking time just to fuck with me,” chowder says that nursey acts like he’s chill even when dex isn’t there and also, why do you think he’s acting?? i think he’s just that chill

but as time goes on he realizes that neither of them believe him because they haven’t seen it for themselves and, look, he could try and orchestrate some plot where they secretly see one another being good people and miraculously change their opinion about each other and they all become a happy trio of friendos with no animosity at all, but chowder is also an ncaa athlete, a stem major, and someone who likes to party a fair amount. he’s got no time for that kind of bullshit.

and so they go through spring term and things aren’t greeattt all the time and sometimes nursey and dex get into screaming matches on the quad and chowder just has to pretend like he doesn’t know them, but most of the time it’s good, it’s fine, and he really does love his friends.

then they lose the frozen four, something happens that neither of them will tell him about, and the fuckers go and gang up on him

it seems, after all the times chowder told them about how they’re both funny and good at hockey and passionate about school and all the other things they have in common, they decide instead to bond over their mutual love of chirping their very best friend in the whole wide world.

to be honest, he’s just glad they’re getting along.

and they still show up at his room all hours of the night and day to burrow into his bed and complain about each other, but at least now chowder lives in the haus and he can eat pie as he pretends to listen to them.

and maybe he starts noticing how some of the complaints aren’t necessarily the kind of thing you’d expect, like “how are his eyes so fucking green, it’s impossible to win an argument when he’s staring at you” or “have you seen how many freckles he has after summer break?? he’s like one giant freckle, it’s unfairly distracting” and despite not really paying attention, he starts to notice when the tone of complaining changes from i hate this guy to i hate how pretty this guy is

he never brings it up. once again, he does not have time to try and get his two best friends together on top of all his other responsibilities, but he notes it down anyway. for being-a-good-friend-purposes. like when ransom sets nursey up with a girl on the volleyball team, chowder spends the whole night watching monty python movies with dex on the couch, and kindly ignores the relief in dex’s shoulders when nursey shows up to breakfast the next day and relays that the date was a bust. and when they’re doing workouts at the gym, chowder very deftly navigates nursey away from the weights when dex is using them to spare him from turning into a mumbling mess at the sight of dex’s arms

and maybe he notices when they start becoming more self aware and the complaining-about-appearance becomes complaining-about-good-things, like nursey saying, in the middle of a rant, “you know he’s fixed betsy like fifteen times in the past two weeks? how the fuck can you fix an oven fifteen different ways? that’s insane” or when dex pauses his recount of nursey’s ridiculous chill behavior to mention, “he’s been editing ransom’s thesis because he knows how much ransom stresses over grammar and he’s like, really good at it”

and it’s probably at this point that chowder breaks the bro code and tells farmer all about his dumb friends and their dumb mutual infatuation, because lbr here the boy cannot handle all this pining on his own. “they’re in love with each other but they think it’s hate”

“i know, i know” farmer soothes, running her fingers through his hair

“why are boys so dumb” chowder laments

farmer, who is currently wearing her best bra and pantie set under her clothes, sighs deeply. “i don’t know,” she says, equally forlorn.

then, well, then the dib flip happens and nursey and dex are literally shoved together and either one or both of them -- chowder has an inkling that it’s dex, but he’s not sure -- seems to freak out and neither of them comes to his room to complain for the rest of the term.

and then chowder has the greatest summer of his life, his former captain wins the stanley cup, and bitty and jack get to kiss on center ice, and chowder gets to attend a training camp with the falcs and jack and he’s on the ice with twenty stanley cup champions and chowder doesn’t come down from this high until he shows up at the haus and finds out that something has gone horribly wrong.

despite the frequent texts, calls, and facetimes, dex and nursey didn’t seem to have as great summers as they’d made it appear. they don’t really tell him directly -- that’s another thing they have in common, never talking about their emotions plainly -- but from what chowder can glean from what they do tell him, is that dex’s family seemed to take jack and bitty’s coming out as evidence towards dex’s queerness and they were dealing with it... less than great, and nursey’s parents had a fight and had since been jettisoning around the world for “work” in an attempt to avoid one another and, as a result, nursey

the living together thing goes.. not swawesome. chowder is obviously disappointed that he no longer has his two best friends just a bathroom away, but after dex moves into the basement, both nursey and dex start coming back to his room for complain sessions again and it’s -- chowder wants to say it’s a good sign.

it starts out mostly complaint complaining, the familiar stuff from their frog year, but slowly but surely as the year goes on the old “his fucking hair” and “he literally helped a little old lady carry her groceries to her car” come back into play and chowder lets go of some stress he hadn’t realized he’d been holding

“they’re going to make me go gray before i’ve even hit 25,” chowder says, another night when he’s complaining to farmer, and farmer says, “you’d look sexy as a silver fox,” and, well. the rest of the night is spent very much not complaining

senior year, they’ve got an ncaa championship under their belt and dex is the captain. he stops coming to chowder’s dorm, probably out of some sense of loyalty to his team that chowder finds both ridiculous and sweet. nursey seems to have no qualms complaining about his captain, on the other hand, but soon even the thin veneer of complaining he’d covered all his pining with has washed away.

“he’s so good with the baby frogs,” and “never tell this to another living soul, but his cherry pie is even better than bitty’s,” and, one memorable night, “do you think i’m in love with dex?”

it’s after sunset, the world dark outside chowder’s window but he’s not exactly sure of the time, and nursey’s lying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling and he looks -- chill. he doesn’t always look chill anymore -- looking back, chowder can admit that maybe the ever-present chill from their frog year had been more a show than anything else -- so this chill means something important, chowder thinks.

chowder thinks, smiling a little, that nursey is finally ready.

“of fucking course i think you’re in love with dex,” chowder bursts out with the frustration that’s a by-product of having patience for three and a half fucking years. “you’ve come into my room at all hours of the day since we were freshmen to complain about how pretty his freckles are, you’ve been in love with the dude for years, and i’ve had to sit here and deal with all of it.”

nursey’s staring at him with a slightly open mouthed, wide-eyed expression.

chowder gathers his poise and then says, very calmly, “yes.”

nursey nods, once or twice slowly and then picking up speed. “wow. okay.”

“i’ve been holding that in for a while.”

“i could tell.”

“hmm.”

a stupid, hopeful, optimistic part of chowder thought that would be the end of it. nursey realized he’s in love with dex, he’d tell dex, and they’d be all stupid and gross and finally chowder would get them back for years of fines.

but nothing seems to change. nursey still comes in and ostensibly complains while pining and dex still doesn’t, instead apparently baking away his frustration (and it’s not like chowder’s going to complain about that) and really, chowder should’ve known these two idiots would need more than a few sentences to get over their combined stupidity

it comes to a head a week before graduation. never let it be said that chowder’s friends are anything less than Dramatic Fuckers

he’s helping dex pack away everything he won’t need in the next few days so when he and nursey leave for new york after graduation there won’t be much to do. he finds a random green beanie in a drawer with dex’s workout clothes and says, “hey, where should i put this?” and dex gets the most ridiculous sappy look on his face.

he hasn’t technically been chowder’s captain since the season ended with a back to back ncaa championship a month ago, and it’s not like dex has any authority over him after how many times he bugged chowder about nursey’s nose, so it’s without hesitation and with purely dex’s best interests at heart that chowder says, “you know you’re in love with him, right?”

dex surprises him then by saying, “yeah.”

a vein in chowder’s neck nearly pops. “then why the fuck have i been listening to nursey pine about your eyelashes for months.”

dex’s eyes widen and, when he gets over the surprise elation whatever, he stumbles over some stupid explanation that captains shouldn’t date their players and it wasn’t the right time and all this other absolute crap, and so chowder does the most meddling he’s ever allowed himself to do and tells dex that he will finish the packing as long as he goes and finds nursey right this fucking second

when nursey and dex tell the story to him and farmer later -- dex blushing and nursey embellishing with his arm curled around dex’s shoulders, pulling him close -- chowder will laugh and tease them and play his part as their very best friend in the whole wide world.

but that night, when he’s gross and sweaty from packing up dex’s entire fucking room and he can’t even sleep in his own goddamned bed because his friends are being exceptionally loud just one bathroom away, he shows up on farmer’s doorstep and says, with all the sincerity in the world, “i hate my friends”

[erule]

Summary: it’s the reader’s birthday and Dean, her boyfriend, has a surprise for her. There are also Sam, Cas and Jack in this story.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Word Count: 1710

A/N: tomorrow’s my birthday, so I thought to write something cute and extremely fluffy to celebrate it! The sentence down here is from the song called Fine Line by Harry Styles, that inspired me to write this.

Story under the cut!

“𝑷𝒖𝒕 𝒂 𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒆 𝒐𝒏 𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏, 𝑰'𝒎 𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒖𝒚”.

The bunker was quiet that morning.

She got up with a sense of fear, because usually she could hear Sam and Dean discussing about some case, with the noise of something burned getting inside her nose. She went to the kitchen, they weren’t there. Yeah, that was strange, because the always told her if they went out, even with a text, but this time, nothing. So, she tried to pray Castiel, wondering if Jack was with him on a case of if they were with the Winchesters, but he didn’t answer either. Very strange. Castiel always answered. He even appeared to her while she was fighting with Dean about something once.

Anyway, after the fact that no one had answered her calls and having searched for them likeanywhere in the bunker, she went out. The weather was cold and she only wore Dean’s usual t-shirt, therefore she was freezing to death. But well, here we were.

«Took you long enough, uh?» Dean said with a smile, arms crossed and back leaning against Baby.

«Are you crazy? I was worried about you!» she yelled.

«I am worried about you, since you’re half naked and not in our bed!» he replied, taking off his jacket to cover her shoulders. «Could you please get dressed?»

«Could you please explain to me what you have in mind? And were are the others? Did you kill them?»

Dean chuckled.

«Not yet. Look, I just have a surprise for you. Don’t ask and put something nice on.»

«Like a smile?»

«Like a dress» Dean said.

«Fine. Only for you.»

«Thank you very much.»

Here’s what she did: she took off Dean’s clothes, let her nose get drunk on his perfume for a moment and then got dressed. She wore a cute, simple red dress and a pair of sneakers. She wasn’t used to wearing elegant clothes as she went hunting every day, but she wasn’t the type who liked them either. Besides, Dean didn’t say they were going to the opera! By the way, who knows what he had invented… all that mystery was putting a great curiosity on her.

What she knew about Dean was this: he was a caring boyfriend. Sure, in his own way, but he was. He wasn’t someone who liked to talk about their feelings or put a label on their relationship, but she knew he cared and that was enough. She could see it when he glanced at her during a fight with a monster to see if she needed help; she could see it from small gestures, like when he brushed her thigh under the table just to understand if she was okay or uncomfortable; she could see it from his smile when she kissed him in the morning before going to get breakfast for everyone while he remained happy in bed. He appreciated her. Most people don’t do that, but he did. He always cared, even they fought, because she knew that his way to treat her bad after an argument was his way to say that he was hurt because he cared about her. Dean was a man of acts, not words.

«Y/N, are you ready?»

«Yes, babe!»

She got in the car and looked in front of her, thinking about what he could have thought: a pic-nic? A trip to nowhere? A trip to somewhere? The beach? No, it was Autumn, that ws not possibile.

«You’re wondering where we’re going, aren’t you?» he asked with a grin on his face. Stupid adorable Dean’s face.

«You know me.»

«Sweetheart, I promise you’ll love it.»

«I have no doubt about that, I’m just curious» she replied, but the curiosity was killing her from the inside.

Dean smiled.

«You’ll see.»

At first, Y/N didn’t get what he was doing. She looked at him extremely suspicious, while he was telling her about the resolution of a some old case with Sam. She nodded, still thinking, but well, it didn’t take Dean too long to make her laugh and distract her from her plan. She immediately responded, reminding him of that time in which she had to save him from a witch who was very much intrigued by him, but she was jealous she just knew something was off. That was the time before the case in which she almost got killed and Dean declared his eternal love for her.

«I remember very well I just said: I feel something for you, Y/N» Dean replied.

«No, you didn’t.»

And then, he kissed her and she, three years later, didn’t recall a better memory than that.

And so they arrived. Y/N got out of the car and when she stepped on the ground, she couldn’t believe her eyes.

«Dean, are you serious?»

«What ever made you believe otherwise?»

Y/N bit the inside of her cheek, trying in vain to hold back her tears. Here’s what Dean had done: he had asked everyone to go out and not answer her because he wanted her to join him outside the bunker, then they had traveled by the car for a couple of hours, eating something for breakfast, laughing and talking about everything. All of that just to take her there, on that hill where he had told her he loved her for the first time, to watch the sunset together. He had confused her ideas because they had walked streets after streets, without her realizing that they were not really going anywhere, because they had to go back in the end, since that place was not very far from the bunker. And so, in the end, his gift to her was his time.

«You’re such a romantic man, Dean Winchester» she said, putting her arms around his neck with sweetness.

«Sometimes» he replied, smiling while looking away.

«You know, I remember when you admitted you were head over heels for me, here.»

Dean open his mouth in disbelief.

«Me? You were so desperate for a kiss from me!» he said and Y/N laughed.

«Not true at all!»

It ended up with Dean tickling her until she declared she couldn’t take it anymore, so they sat and watched the sun die behind the skyline of the city in the distance.

She rested her head on Dean’s arm, who wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gave her a kiss on the temple. He’d given her the one thing no one could buy: his time, the same time they hadn’t had for weeks because they’d been busy with cases. She could never be grateful enough for that.

«The others are waiting for us at home. Tell me when you want us to go back.»

Y/N closed her eyes.

«Never.»

Dean laughed.

«You can always bribe me with a slice of cake or a kiss, you know. I would prefer cake just because I’m hungry.»

She laughed.

«I bribe you with both, my love» she replied, giving him immediately a kiss.

She took his face in her hands as they fell with their backs against the grass, letting her legs intertwine with Dean’s, slipping into a whirlwind of warmth, sweetness and passion at the same time.

They didn’t notice the time that passed. They only realized they were late when Castiel called them worried about where they were, because he, Sam and Jack were waiting for them at the bunker. At that point, they had to get up and go back, but not before they had bought something for dinner.

Once home, Y/N started to enter, but Dean stopped her at the door.

«Hey, I wasn’t completely honest with you before» Dean said, taking her hand. She looked at him, confused. «You know I don’t like chick flick moments, but today is your day, so I’ll make an effort. I just want to tell you that I need you in my life and I think this pretty much sums up how I feel about you.»

Her bottom lip trembled. She felt her eyes burning, but she didn’t cry. She just breathed out and then hugged him so tight her chuckles became white.

«Thank you.»

Dean caressed her hair.

«Yeah. Now we have to go, cherry pie.»

Y/N composed herself and then they entered in the bunker. The lights were off, but they were turned on when Sam, Cas and Jack screamed Happy birthday! Y/N was astonished.

«Oh guys, you didn’t have to bother!»

«You’re joking, right?» Sam asked, while running to her in order to hug her. «Happy birthday, Y/N.»

«Thanks, Sam» she replied. «And there was the pie!» she said, looking at Dean, that was caught while he was looking at it so greedily. «You don’t even look at me like that!»

Sam laughed.

Then, they finally had the chance to chat and celebrate her birthday properly. For once, there was no day that was bleeding or someone who got hurt. It was just the five of them, a family, enjoying a special moment. She looked at Dean, across the table, who was laughing out loud at Sam’s jokes and thought she was grateful for all she had.

Before going to sleep, Y/N sat down on the bed he shared with Dean, his shirt back on and her arms wrapped around her knees. She watched him enter the room and look at her in confusion.

«What’s wrong? Do I still have some cake on my face?»

«No, you just look happy. I had missed it.»

Dean took a seat next to her on the bed.

«Do you know what I like about you? That after five years of being together you always look at me as if I were the most beautiful miracle that has ever happened to you. I wish you could see it» he said, with so much light in his eyes.

«And I would like you to know how much I appreciated the gift you gave me today. I can never repay you enough for this» she replied, putting her arms around his neck and caressing his hair.

«Are you sure? Because there is a very interesting way to do that…»

Y/N chuckled.

«I thought that it was my birthday, not yours.»

«Well, technically, midnight is long past now, sweetheart» Dean replied.

Y/N gave him a kiss on his lips.

«Let the party begin, then.»

[spnfanficpond]

Pond Diving - Katelynw93

Welcome to today’s Pond Diving Spotlight! We hope that you enjoy this little insight to our members and perhaps even find some useful tips for your own writing. Happy reading!

Want to volunteer, send us an ask! We’re looking forward to learning more about all of you! Not sure what PD is, you can learn more here.

“Don’t Be Koi About It” - All About You

Name: Katelyn, but most people call me Kate, Katie or sometimes even Kat.

Age: 27

Location: Originally from Kansas, but have been located in Upstate NY for the last six years.

URL: @katelynw93​

Why did you choose your URL: It’s usually the username that I use for everything and if I’m being honest, I’m not very creative when it comes to titles or names. Lol. I’ve been meaning to change it; I just need to decide on what.  

What inspired you to become a writer: Well, when I was in middle school (maybe seventh or eighth grade), my best friend and I decided to write a story together and post it on a fanfiction site (Can’t remember the site name, though.) And I just loved it. We never did finish that story. Lol. But eventually I started branching out and found some roleplay writing sites.  

How long have you been writing: Started writing in middle school (2006/2007), but really got into it in 2009 with RP. However, September of this year (2020) was the first year I started really writing fics by myself and opening posting them. 

What do you do when you are not writing i.e. Job/Hobbies etc? I work a lot, usually an average of 40+ hours a week; I am a manager at a popular food chain restaurant and on the weekends, a cashier at a gas station to provide a little extra cash for my family. When I’m not working, my time is spent with my two kids; Alekzander (Zander) who just turned five this past November and Lincoln (Link) who will be two in February. Outside of work and my family, I’m usually writing. Sometimes if I’m feeling extra creative or inspired, I’ll create a few crackships for couples I really enjoy. Lol. 

How long have you been in the SPN Fandom? I actually found Supernatural around the same time I started writing, so back in ninth grade, so 2008/2009. It was honestly an accident too, because I was searching for Smallville episodes (I have an unhealthy addiction to Superman and DC/Marvel.) and stumbled upon an ad for Supernatural. Was instantly intrigued and fell in love. Seasons 1 - 5 (the Kripke era) are my favorite. 

Are you in any other fandoms and do you write for them? Oh yea, I love TV shows and movies, and as I’ve already stated above, I love DC and Marvel. I’ve also written for Grey’s Anatomy and am willing to write for more, but SPN, DC and Grey’s are currently the only ones I’ve written for. I love The Vampire Diaries, One Tree Hill, Private Practice, Station 19, 9-1-1, Game of Thrones, The Witcher, Merlin, Dexter, Psych, and so, so many more. There are too many to list. Lol.  

Do you do any writing outside of fanfiction? If so, tell us about it? Other than RPing, not really. I mean, I did try to do an original story with my friend when I was younger, but it never went anywhere. But I am willing to try someday. 

Favorite published author: Other than the really big authors like; J.K. Rowling, George R.R. Martin, Jim Butcher, Nicholas Sparks, Suszanne Collins, I really like (and maybe it’s cliche) Stephenie Meyer. The Twilight Saga made me fall in love with reading and eventually, that love led me to writing. Those books hold a special place in my heart.  

Have you ever read a book that made an impact on your life? Which one and why?: Well, I guess I sort of answered that one already. But there truly are so many amazing books out there and still so many more to discover. 

Favorite genre of fanfic (smut, angst, fluff, crack, rpf, etc): Oh man, I’m not gonna lie, a majority of what I read is probably smut. But I am particularly fond of angst. I want you to make me cry. Really dig and stab into my emotions. Lol. And then come back in with some fluff. Haha. 

Favorite piece of your own writing: Well, that would have to be Sweet Cherry Pie because it was really the first piece I’ve ever finished and published online. It was inspired by an RP that I am currently involved in and they are my favorite couple in said RP. It got so much positive feedback after I shared it that it inspired me to keep writing. I was so nervous about posting it, but I am glad I did. 

Most underrated fic you have written: Oh I’m not sure. Maybe Love Bites. I am a sucker for Supernatural and The Vampire Diaries crossovers. I really loved writing this fic and am eager to write more. 

Story of yours that you’d most like to see turned into a movie/tv show: Oh damn, um, it’d be cool to see any of them like that. But maybe Sweet Cherry Pie or Out of the Fire (my firefighter!Dean series).  

Favorite Tumblr Writer(s): There are so many, but I usually find myself reading work from; @impala-dreamer​, @katehuntington​  @deanwanddamons​, @muchamusedaboutnothing​.  

Favorite Fic from another writer: This one is tough because there are so many amazing fics out there, especially ones that I adddddore; but if forced to choose, one story that will always stick with me would have to be Treacherous by @idkhaylijah​ OR The Sullivan Series by Kate Huntington 

Favorite character to write: Dean Winchester. I adore Dean and he’s probably the easiest for me to write. I have written the most fics with him and I portray him often in the RPs that I do. 

Favorite Pairing to write: Dean with anyone, but my favorite would be Dean x Caroline. 

Least favorite character to write (and why): That’s a tough one, cause there’s not really any that I’m uncomfortable with or dislike writing. Maybe characters with accents, because I don’t really know how to capture that in writing yet? I’m pretty open with my writing and am willing to try mostly anything. 

Do you have anyone you consider a mentor? Oh definitely. When I first started RPing, there was another girl (Jocelyn) that I used to write with and she influenced a lot of my writing. She was older than me and had more experience and gave me a lot of tips on how to get better. She is an amazing writer and had the potential of going far with it, but life happens and unfortunately, she doesn’t write anymore. But she is booming on Youtube, so that’s pretty impressive. It’s pretty cool to see how far she’s come. 

Do you have any aspirations involving your writing? I used to want to be a journalist when I was younger, but other than that, not really. I just want to have fun with it and write something meaningful for someone, and always improve and get better.  

How many work-in-progress stories do you have: I have a few ideas jotted down, maybe ten, but I haven’t actually started any of them. I have so many bingo cards I need to finish, but with my work schedule, it’s been pretty crazy. 

What are you currently working on? My main project is Out of the Fire.

“Pond Diving” - All About The Writing

What/who has had the biggest influence on your writing? Definitely the RPing that I’ve done and am currently doing. My friend Alesha has been the longest RP partner that I’ve had and her writing is phenomenal - and it helps a lot too when your mind's work in similar ways; her and I always seem to be on the same wavelength when it comes to writing. I love it. But like me, she has a very busy schedule and writing is limited. 

Best writing advice you've been given: Have fun with it, write what you want to write and always be open to helpful criticism. And don’t stress about it, either. Write in your own time. It’s meant to be fun, not stressful. 

Biggest obstacle you’ve faced in your writing: Just finding the time to write and getting over being so self conscious about my writing. I don’t let anyone in my real life read what I write.  

What aspects of writing do you find difficult when you write fanfiction? Just capturing the personalities of the canon characters sometimes; if it’s a character I’m not used to writing, I worry about portraying them the right way. And I have trouble individualizing the characters (separating them from myself/my own personality), like when I create an OC for an RP, sometimes when I have too many, their personalities all become the same in ways (if that makes sense?). And accents. I have trouble with accents. Oh, and fight/action scenes. They take me a bit.  

Is there anything you want to write but are afraid to (and why): I am always going to be afraid, no matter what it is that I’m writing, because I worry about it succeeding. I want to write for other fandoms though, I guess, but like I said, I worry about capturing the characters right and having a decent storyline that is unique. 

What inspires/motivates you to write: Honestly, positive feedback. I love hearing what people think about my writing and it motivates me to continue. 

How do you deal with self-doubt: That’s a tough one. I guess I just look towards my writing friends or beta’s for reassurance or I go back and read the positive comments and likes on the fics I’ve already shared. It encourages me to continue. 

How do you deal with writer's block: I usually listen to music and I’ll look up gifs of my favorite characters, create stories in my head with those gifs or I’ll create gif sets of specific scenes. If that doesn’t work, I’ll take a break and watch one of my favorite TV shows for inspiration. 

Do you plan/outline your story before you start: For my RPs, I have a group chat with those I’m writing with and we usually shoot ideas back and forth, but mostly we wing it. For my fics, I normally just wing it, but with Out of the Fire, I have a rough idea of what I want from each part. With that said, my ideas or plans often change as I’m writing. These characters have a mind of their own sometimes. Lol.  

Do you have any weird writing habits: I don’t know about any weird habits, but I always have music on and I guess I have to do it in spurts. I’ll write a few paragraphs or sentences, pause and scroll tumblr or facebook or gifs, and then go back, reread what I wrote and then write a few more. Rise and repeat. 

Have you ever received hateful comments on your fic and how do you deal with it? So far, no I haven’t, and I hope I don’t ever have to deal with that. But I know it’s bound to happen. I guess if I were to ever encounter that, I’d like to say that I’ll take it as a learning experience but I honestly don’t know I’d feel about that.  

Conversely: what’s been some of your favorite feedback on your fanfic? Oh man, I guess my favorite would have to be ellewritesfix05 reaction to the secret santa fic I wrote for her; Dean Fucking Winchester. And all the positive feedback I’ve gotten for Out of the Fire.

If you could give one piece of advice to a new and/or struggling writer, what would it be? Have fun with it. Write what you want and what you’re comfortable with. Don’t be afraid of constructive criticism and most importantly, don’t stress. Writing is fun.

[whereflowersbloom]

Pumpkin Disaster

Richard could almost smell the cinnamon spice, vanilla scent and cinnamon sugar in the air. The colors of the leaves changed from green to a dazzling display of red, orange and yellow. The air became crisper and temperatures dropped a bit as a chill came into the air.

Richard Grayson absolutely loved Halloween. As expected of the eldest Wayne sibling, he was the kind of person who enjoyed decorating and preparing the manor for Halloween because of his everlasting enthusiasm for holidays. He loved the cheesy and horror movies, the excuse to stuff his face with candy, the seasonal special editions of cereal, the elaborate and extravagant costumes, the creative decorations. It was his second favorite holiday. And he definitely considered it a holiday.

Halloween wasn’t just a day to him. Oh no. The whole month of October was Halloween. But with his vigilante duties, intermittent Titans training and constant Gotham crises cropping up, he had made it through two weeks of the month without an ounce of Halloween festivity. But that was about to change.

“You never carved pumpkins for Halloween?” Dick Grayson asked incredulously, pressing a hand to his chest in a move overly dramatic.

Damian exclaimed a familiar ‘TT’ in response. For him seeing people playing pretend, wearing flashy and ridiculous costumes was not particularly interesting. Thought they weren’t much different from the impractical clothing Todd and Richard insisted on wearing. It was just a recurrent reminder that he was not a normal child.

“Which part of I was raised in the inhospitable and desolate mountains you didn’t comprehend, Grayson?” Damian brusquely returned with furrowed eyebrows.

“But we cannot celebrate it without carving your first pumpkin...” Grayson sounded so downhearted it stung Damian with shadowy guilt. Out of all his adoptive siblings Grayson was the pleasant and tolerable one. Damian swallowed hard.

“I want all of us to carve a pumpkin!” Dick declared holding up his index finger in contempt. Damian raised a dark eyebrow as a go on communicating silently. “We are all doing this together as a family.”

“It’s not necessary. I’m not a small child anymore.” Damian scoffed, rolling his eyes before refocusing on his Robert Frost book, flipping another page. No. He would not acquiesce easily into this. He was self-sufficient, mature preteen. Not a child.

“Demon spawn, you are only eleven.” Jason commented before putting out a finished cigarette. Fortunately Alfred wasn’t lurking around to give him disapproving eyes for smoking inside the manor.

“Is this your way of asking for a new scar, Todd?” Damian threatened through gritted teeth and clenched fists, mind quickly calculating the damage of throwing an explosive batarang.

“You’re getting less insufferable to be around.” Jason scoffed and met Damian with a sly smirk. “Dickie, pouting is not an acceptable reaction for a full-grown adult.” Jason sing-songed as he grabbed his motorbike keys.

“This includes you Jaybird. I plan on getting you into the Halloween spirit.” Dick announced with his authoritative leader tone, letting Jason know he would be part of this wether he liked it or not.

Jason groaned dreadfully, cursing under his breath. Great. Now he was part of the Halloween circus. At least he didn’t have to take the annoying gremlin pumpkin picking. God knows what would happened if they fed him candy. The thought gave Jason chilling goosebumps.

Damian folded his arms over his chest in a sign of disagreement. “I don’t do pumpkins. It’s a waste of food. It amounts to about 18,000 tons of pumpkin, including flesh and seeds. Have you read the recent studies on how it’s destroying the environment?”

“Come on, D. You will have fun. You can carve your own Robin lantern” Dick encouraged, practically vibrating with excitement. Damian wondered what on earth he did to deserve such blinding sunshine as his adoptive sibling. “...and I’m sure Alfred will find a convenient way to make use of the pumpkins.”the last words seemed to have done the trick to convince the younger boy.

Damian considered the options carefully for a solid minute. He knew better than ignoring Richard wouldn’t get him anywhere. He wouldn’t leave it alone. Sigh. If it meant he could help Pennyworth baking a pumpkin spice pie with ginger-snag crust...

“Lead the way, Grayson.” Damian sighed resignedly.

Dick squealed in joy, bouncing to his feet and wrapping his arms around Damian’s neck.

It was just pumpkin carving what exactly could go wrong. Right?

~~~

Less than two hours later Jason Todd walked into the kitchen of the Wayne manor, initially looking for a cup of peppermint tea as the Gotham chilly autumn winds were making him crave a hot beverage.

“Would anyone care to explain why is there a whole fucking pumpkin patch on the kitchen table?” Jason muttered audibly, mouth opened in stupefaction. What in the name of Halloweentown....Where did all these pumpkins come from?

“Language, Jay.” Dick scolded him glancing up at him over a pile of massive mutant pumpkins with a provoking grin.

“I grew up in the Narrows. I’m allowed to swear.” Jason rolled his eyes in reply as he tried to avoid stepping on the pumpkins, accidentally squashing them, they were scattered on the floor, table, those fucking things were everywhere. “Dickie, are you going to explain?”

“These are from Roy.” Richard gestured the numerous orange bulbs with his right hand. “I think he got these from some illegal smuggling bust. I didn’t really ask a lot of questions. I just accepted them because I thought it’d be fun to try carving Batman lanterns with little D.”

It took Jason less than two minutes to process the information. Why was the golden boy not bothered by this?

“You mean these are contraband pumpkins.” He remarked skeptically, green-blue eyes widening still rather incredulous.

Dick simply shrugged. “I didn’t think you’d have a problem.”

Right. Only if Bruce found out about the origin of the contraband pumpkins. Then he’d be blamed for being the bad influence and his merry band of disreputable friends. He groaned as he rubbed the nape of his neck.

“And where is the demon spawn. I don’t seem him anywhere.” He questioned narrowing his eyes and tilting his head to the side the slightest. He had to be close to Dick, but the kitchen was alarmingly too quiet. Too quiet for his liking. This meant trouble.

Tim didn’t try too hard not to flinch as a knife flashed dangerously close to his face and flied past Jason. “This is the third time in the last hour. I’m starting to think it’s personal.” Tim spoke calmly with a sarcastic tone as he continued sipping his black coffee expressionless as usual. Getting knifed by the little demon spawn before Halloween would hav been the cherry on top of the misfortune cake.

Jason was genuinely concerned and wondered how many cups of coffee Tim has had today. Hopefully not over five.

“If he wanted you dead, you’d be already in a casket.” Jason pointed out. It was no secret Damian’s strong aversion towards replacement, but he didn’t wish the shortstack dead.

Tim just shrugged his shoulders casually. “Well, I suppose we always could use your old one.” Fuck that. He took it back.

“Low blow, replacement.” Jason feigned hurt putting a hand to his chest right above his heart in a offended manner.

“It’s juts not cooperating.” The young kid voiced his frustration and discontentment . Leaving the kitchen knife he used on the table. Tt. He was trained and raised for excellence and he couldn’t carve flawlessly a stupid pumpkin. Mother would be entirely displeased.

“Requires time and practice, Dami.” Dick whispered softly with a warm smile, running his hand up and down the preteen’s back.

“I don’t know D, to me it looks like you’re slaughtering it mercilessly.” Jason joked with a wolflike smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. Head moving in different angles trying to find a figure or face in the pumpkin Damian had been carving. “Unless you were thinking of the Joker, If so then you have my seal of approval.” The little demon spawn was never the most pleasant person to be around but deep,very deep down maybe Jason had a soft spot for him. Not that he would ever admit it out loud. Never.

“Do us a favor and keep your mouth shut, Todd.” Damian barked, glaring daggers at him.

“I never did Halloween with my parents.” The words escaped Tim’s mouth before his brilliant brain registered the order. The pain wasn’t there anymore. No. There were charity Galas, social events for wealthy socialites, last minute journeys for significant discoveries. Because people often assumed there will be plenty of time later. Tim didn’t want Damian to live for the later.

“I remember trading a cheap wristwatch for expired candy once. Not a great deal.” Jason muttered nonchalantly, giving it unimportance. Tone flat and factual. His memories from the narrows weren’t memorable for being happy or enjoyable but he had what he managed to obtain and he did what was necessary in order to survive. Nothing to be ashamed of.

“There’s always a first, Timbo.” Dick placed sympathetically a hand on Tim’s shoulder in a comforting way. Tim smiled softly back. Well, perhaps this pumpkin carving experience could be fun.

~~~

“This is the grossest thing I’ve ever done.” Tim announced, scooping a handful of pumpkin guts out of his pumpkin and examining them distastefully. “Seriously. I’ve done some pretty gross things, but this takes the cake.”

Jason flicked playfully a few pumpkin seeds at him and Tim moved fast enough to evade almost all of them. “Don’t be such a crybaby, replacement.” He has been playing with the large pumpkin, stabbing it numerous times picturing the joker’s fAce.

“Look at the gremlin, he’s been doing it for like two hours. What if he’s developed an addiction?” Jason mumbled slightly concerned and half-joking to Tim.

Damian pulled the pumpkin impossibly closer to him, practically cradling the thing in his lap. His mind completely absorbed in the task of carving the perfect pumpkin. His back was pressed to the cupboards behind him, a series of knives and napkins scattered at his sides. He looked focused, impossibly focused, like there could never be a more important thing for him to pour his energy into. Because Damian Wayne even if he didn’t admit it was obsessed with maintaining perfection. Failure was not a word he accepted.

Damian rolled his eyes. “I’m fairly sure no one has ever got addicted to pumpkin carving and I can hear you, mindless fools.”

"Any behavior can become compulsive.” Tim supplied absently, eyes fixed on the small pumpkin in front of him.

Dick paused briefly from working on his Nightwing lantern to just observe Damian, not even trying to hide the smile on his lips.

Dick and Jason quietly exchange discreet glances. Quickly they picked a few pumpkin seeds out of the bowl that resided in the scented of the kitchen table, flicking them over towards Damian who squawked and tried unsuccessfully, to duck. Due to being too focused on the task assigned. “Will you stop distracting me? I have a masterpiece to finish!”

“A masterpiece?” Jason asked teasingly, glancing pointedly at his Batman lantern.

“Yes. A masterpiece, Todd.” Damian exhaled exasperated. What did anyone have to do to carve a mere pumpkin in peace?

“Come on, little D. It’s time to have some fun!” Jason threw a handful of pulpy flesh at his face. Oh. This would be seen as a declaration of war. Quickly, Damian grabbed a portion of pumpkin and aimed for Jason’s leather jacket. ‘NOT MY JACKET’ several minutes later, Drake was covered in the orange flesh from head to toes. He was in urgent need of a bath. Grayson was smart enough to grasp a breakfast tray and use it as a shield, however it didn’t work for long. Damian and Tim teamed up to caught him on the top with a surprise attack, Drake sneaking behind his back. Needless to say the kitchen was in shambles at this point. Good thing Pennyworth has been busy the whole day reorganizing the library.

“What’s all this mess in my kitchen?! Master Richard I demand a proper explanation!” A very agitated British voice came from the doorframe. Alfred very upset, furrowing his grey brows appeared looking utterly baffled by the chaos.

Oops.

“Fuck me” Jason and Richard grumbled in unison from the floor covered in pumpkin pulp. Soon they broke out in bowls of laughter all four of them. Damian genuinely laughed at his heart’s content with the innocence of a normal child. His family may have been unstable and insane, but canned if they weren’t entertaining and the best part of his new life.

Some mandatory batbros bonding October prompt 🎃 🙈🙈🙈❤️💜💜

Also I’m celebrating 1.8K followers. Thank you so much for your support and reading my stories. I appreciate it 🥺🥺

Edited here:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26891536

@sofiii @chromium7sky @deep-in-mind67

[atomicdetectivehideout]

This is for @lilliankayl​ as part of @destielsecretsanta2020​. I hope you like it!

Their wishlist: Fluffy Retired AU Domestic Fluff with their dog Miracle.

Christmas Surprises

On Ao3 

Words: 1777

Summary: Dean's going to be making Christmas dinner for the whole family this year and Cas wants to sneak a gift into the oven before Dean has it claimed for the rest of the day. Too bad Miracle has woken him up before Cas is ready.

When Dean wakes up he’s alone. He stretches his arms and legs and back, getting as many cricks and cracks out as he can before flipping to face the other side of the bed. It’s cold. He’s tempted to burrow back into his blankets but he can hear the clanging in the kitchen so he knows he’s the last one awake.

He sits up rubbing his eyes and is steeling himself to leave his cozy bed (there’s no real getting used to how cold the bunker is first thing in the morning in winter) when his door is nudged open and a cream colored blur launches itself into the bed.

(source)

“Hey, buddy! Good morning,” he said wrapping his arms around Miracle and rocking the two of them back and forth in a deep embrace while he steals her warmth.

(source)

It's only when Miracle starts licking at his ears (and he does not giggle) that he decides to get up. He flings the blankets off himself, covering Miracle in the process. She burrows her way out and gives a shake before huffing almost exasperatedly at him.

Dean pulls on his robe. "Don't give me that look," he tells her. "That's for slobbering in my ears." He turns to the door and catches a whiff of something delicious so he follows his nose to the kitchen, Miracle by his side.

***

The toast pops and Sam looks over his shoulder away from the stove for a moment and warns, “It’s hot,” before turning his attention back to scrambling the eggs.

(source)

Castiel pauses what he's doing to carefully grab the toast and butter the slices. Sam is on breakfast duty this morning since Dean decided to do a full Christmas dinner for them, Eileen, Jack, Jody and Donna, and their girls. Cas, newly human since his rescue from the Empty, still doesn't know much about cooking but he's proving to be a quick learner and he's always ready for the next lesson. This morning, in addition to helping with breakfast, he's working on his Christmas surprise for Dean.

Last week while out for their usual grocery shop, he'd brought the subject up to Sam. Always ready to help a friend, Sam agreed and immediately pulled up a few possible recipes to choose from on his phone. On their trip home, Cas insisted on holding his bag of ingredients on his lap so he could read all the labels to try to understand why each ingredient was important.

It's when Dean walks into the kitchen saying, "All that bacon better be for me!" that he realizes that his Christmas surprise might not be much of a surprise if Dean is already here. He thought for sure Dean would still be asleep after their late night together the night before.

Like Dean can hear his thoughts, his eyes snap from the stovetop searching for bacon to Castiel and the bowl he's holding.

"What's in the bowl?" Dean asks, eyebrow raised.

"It's… uhh…" Cas tries.

"It's none of your business," Sam swoops in with the save. Dean scoffs, a reminder that Dean considers the kitchen to be his territory, and Cas releases the breath he didn't realize he was holding when Sam adds absentmindedly while plating everyone's breakfast, "Besides, he needs to do this now."

"Why does he need to do this now?" Dean asks, confused.

Sam realizes what he's revealed by accident, alarm in his eyes as he looks at Castiel for his reaction. Castiel's eyes are just as wide in surprise.

And while this wasn't how he'd planned on this going, it seemed like this was how events wanted to play out and he wasn't ready to be upset on Christmas Day.

So instead, he smiles at Sam before turning to Dean and taking his hand. Miracle nudges at his ankles looking for attention and he'll be sure to give her plenty soon.

Sam sees his chance, and fills a plate with food and exits the kitchen at high speed.

"Well, you're about to be cooking all day so I wanted to get your gift in the oven before you need it," he tells Dean.

"My gift?" Dean asks, still confused. "I thought we all agreed no gifts."

"We did, but this is a bit of a gift for everyone, if you choose to share," Cas tells him with a grin. "Do you want to know what it is now?"

"Do you want to tell me now?" Dean counters instead.

Castiel frowns at him and crosses his arms. "I asked you first."

Dean just rolls his eyes. "Yes, please tell me."

Cas looks to Miracle for good luck before looking to Dean. "I'm baking you a pie. A pecan pie."

Dean's mouth immediately starts to water. Pecan might not be his first favourite flavour, but it's easily second or third (depending on how good the slice of cherry pie in front of him is) and he knows why Cas has chosen pecan: at the end of his Christmas feast are four apple pies he had finished baking the day before.

"Awesome," Dean tells him. "Pecan is a great choice and perfect for the holidays." He puts his hand on Cas's shoulder and sighs dramatically. "I can't believe you want to encroach on my dinner plans though," he teases.

Cas gasps, not picking up on the joke. He raises both hands and takes Dean's hand from his shoulder to hold it. "Dean, I would never want to infringe on that. This is merely to supplement what you have planned. If you even want to share at all," he explains in complete earnestness.

And Dean just laughs, "I know!" he reassures Cas. "I'm just kidding with you." He clasps his other hand on top of Cas's. "Do you want help?"

"No, Dean," Cas says in horror. "This is your gift. You can't help to make it," he pauses with a head tilt. "That's a rule, isn't it?"

"We make our own rules," Dean tells him with a kiss to his cheek. "And we can definitely make our own Christmas traditions too. If you want my help, I'm all in but if you don't that's okay too." He lowers their hands still holding on though and looks around the kitchen. "Now how about we eat?"

***

Dean couldn't wait a moment longer for his plate of bacon (with his spinach omelette, god, okay he'll eat it) and they're back in the kitchen right after.

Sam finished up the breakfast dishes quickly and got out of Dodge right after. He's been around enough to know that Dean treats a full meal preparation like a battle plan and it's best not to be around if you're not needed. 

Cas is nervous now that Sam is out of the room and Dean turns to him expectantly. "So what's the verdict, sweetheart? Do you want my help or should I hit the road?"

He takes a moment to consider it before answering. "Yes, please stay," he says simply. Dean's grin lights up the kitchen and Cas knows he could never send Dean away. Cas returns the wide smile and pulls on his apron. It's a white apron with pastel flowers embroidered along the bottom that Dean had bought him as a gift when his eyes lingered on the flowers. He picks up the bowl and spoon he had earlier and gets ready to start. Dean can't help himself.

"Hang on a sec," he tells Cas. He pulls his phone from his robe pocket and opens the camera. "Give me a smile." So Cas does as he's asked and Dean snaps a photo (or several). "Perfect," Dean tells Cas, showing him the photo.

Dean quickly sends the image to Claire captioned Hard at work for dinner. See u tonite. She replies moments later saying stop burning my dinner and pay attention! Dean scoffs and puts the phone down.

“Let’s see this recipe,” he says to Cas. He takes the piece of paper he is offered and reviews it. “This doesn’t look too hard. Where are you?”

Cas leans over his shoulder and points. “Number three. I performed the blind bake before you got up. I was hoping to get the pie in the oven before you woke up."

Laughing, Dean says, "You should have pulled our bedroom door shut. Miracle nosed her way in." Miracle had settled beside the table to be near to her humans while they were busy and perked up at her name. She huffs in disappointment when she realizes they have nothing for her and flops back to the floor with a thump.

"I will do that the next time I intend to bake you a surprise," Cas deadpans. 

"You know I'll never say no to something baked,” Dean tells him matter of factly. "I'll be sure to keep that in mind."

They get to work pulling out all the ingredients for the filling. Castiel carefully fills the measuring cups and spoons with precision and Dean supervises, answering any questions Cas has. When Cas is done whisking the mixture, he removes his apron revealing his current favourite sweater with a majestic grey wolf on the front and hangs it up. He reaches for the cellophane package of pecan pieces and returns to the counter. Resting his foot on the stool in front of him, his pants pulling tightly against his thigh and he lifts the bag to his mouth and opens the package with his teeth. 

Dean swallows, eyes drawn to Cas’s thick thighs automatically. Cas might hear him because he makes eye contact with Dean, pecans still at his mouth and he raises an eyebrow in question. Dean shakes himself back to attention. “Don’t forget you’re human now,” he pulls open a drawer of utensils, “and the dentist is expensive. Use scissors instead of your teeth.” He’s gruff, but not unkind and Castiel gives him an affectionate smile before pouring the pecans into the pie shell. They get the pie in the oven and set a timer and Dean turns to the recipes he’d printed out for today. He’s got a lot planned and that means a lot to do, but he’s wanted to do this for a long time now and this seemed like the perfect time. 

The holidays are the time for family, good food, sweets, and surprises after all. And tonight Dean and Cas have a surprise for all their friends and family: they’re officially retiring from hunting. 

***

As the smell of the baking pecan pie fill the kitchen, it is no surprise to anyone that Dean decides that he will not be sharing his gift from Cas with anyone else. 

***

Merry Christmas to those of you that celebrate and Happy Holidays! 

Love, Atomicdetectivehideout

[flyingstar360]

Bittersweet Memories

So, Happy Thanksgiving and I’m really sorry for Alex angst/ooc. There’s a little bit more adult-ish content in it,  and by that, I mean we have boys kissing, mentions of teenage drinking, a few colorful words I may have forgotten to edit out, and mentions of some pretty serious homophobia topics. Also, I’m straight, so I’ve never had to come out or anything, and this is my first time writing openly gay characters. Hopefully, I did okay, and I don’t offend anyone! Any way, it’s a long one, so sorry!

Bittersweet Memories

              Alex twisted his drumsticks between his fingers. Julie and her family weren’t home. She told the boys she was going to go volunteer with her dad and brother, but honestly? Alex’s anxiety post Orpheum had been at an all time high. Between secret meetings with Willie, trying to avoid Caleb and save Willie’s soul, band practice and their growing fan base, and the fact that the holidays were coming up? Alex felt like one of the strings of Luke’s guitar, right before it snapped.

              He knew Thanksgiving had always been Reggie’s favorite holiday. It was the one day his parents didn’t scream all day, because there was just enough distraction and alcohol to keep them from going after each other. He and his brother would play flag football and watch the parade with their cousins.  The delight was practically oozing off him as he and Luke were curled in front of Julie’s laptop, rambling on about the musical acts performing. Ironically, it was a show about hell, or something?

“Dude if musicals had been like this? Yo, I would never have given you a hard time about them.” Luke said to Alex, looking up from his spot on the ground.

              Luke’s relationship with Thanksgiving was a little more complicated than Reggie’s. It wasn’t his favorite, but he didn’t hate it. Plus, now that they were dead, Luke had never been closer to his family. Even though they had no idea Julie was actually helping him leave little clues around for them to know he was there with them.

              “Are you gonna go see your parents today?” He asked Luke.

              “Already done. Julie helped me leave a little message for my mom.” Luke grinned.

               Alex rolled his eyes. “Please tell me it has nothing to do with cranberry jelly.”

              Emily Patterson made the best homemade cranberry sauce Alex had ever eaten. The Thanksgiving he’d spent at the Patterson’s was one of the best meals Alex had ever eaten. But Luke, for some reason, didn’t like the cranberry sauce his mom made. It was one of those fancy ones, with real cranberries and orange in it. To Alex, it smelled and tasted exactly like he always dreamed the holidays would. Sweet, with a hint of spices. But no.Luke wanted processed cranberry jelly. Alex remembered seeing the two of them arguing about it the last Thanksgiving they’d been alive. Luke had run away a few weeks later, and they’d died in July.

              “Julie got me a can of cranberry jelly to leave on the counter. Mom’ll know.”

              Alex hated canned cranberry jelly. All he could think about was the way it had clung to his button down shirt the last Thanksgiving he spent with his parents. He remembered the sounds of the plates crashing, the way the glass pie plate had shattered as it hit the wall and smashed next to his face, and the way his father’s voice spit out the words as he- No, Alex didn’t want to think about it.

              Alex hated Thanksgiving, actually.

              It was two Thanksgivings ago- or two Thanksgivings before he died, instead. His dad’s coworker had come over with his family. Alex didn’t mind. Mr. Marsters’s son was a little older than him. And he was cool. Seth Marsters was a baseball player at the fancy private school in town. He was class president. He was handsome. He liked good music. And he was honestly really nice. Alex never minded spending time with him, and their parents were good enough friends that it happened pretty frequently. The two had ended up in Alex’s room while their dads talked work and their moms finished the dinner and drank wine. Sometimes they’d play Super Mario Kart on Alex’s Nintendo and the TV he had in his room. Other times, the boys just sat around and talked and listened to music.

              “Okay.” Seth had said as he opened the tape deck Alex had in his room. “Don’t laugh, but I made you mix tape with some of the other songs I thought you’d like. I would have burnt you a CD, but Dad wouldn’t let me use the computer, because he was too busy with work.”

              Alex grinned and flopped himself across his blue bedspread as he watched Seth fiddle with the tape deck. Alex didn’t have a lot of friends. His anxiety made it hard to make friends at school. So, the guys in band were his best friends- and so far, the only people who knew he was gay. Luke had actually been the first guy Alex ever kissed- after they’d snuck a bottle of something that had made Alex’s eyes water and throat burn out of Mr. Patterson’s liquor cabinet. Reggie would turn up at the backdoor in the middle of the night sometimes, with cuts or bruises Alex never questioned but would clean up nonetheless. And Bobby would show up at lunch with extra food packed for the guys, and his mom always made sure Alex had something without nuts in it. It was that kind of stuff that made Alex feel normal. And not like a freak. Even though he knew he was different from everyone else.  But besides the guys, he didn’t feel comfortable with almost anyone else. Except Seth.

              “Okay, but I can’t promise not to laugh until I hear what songs you picked.”

Seth grinned back and hit play as he plopped himself next to Alex, resting on his elbows, face to face with Alex. It took everything Alex had not to blush as Seth went on and on about why Nirvana was a better band than Poison. Nodding dumbly, he didn’t even register what was playing- until he heard a familiar voice whose CD was hidden behind his copy of The Hobbit on his bookshelf.

              “I’m sorry, is this Whitney Houston?” Alex sat straight up. Seth was the one blushing now, as he fumbled to skip the song.

              “Yeah, it’s dumb, I just-“

              Alex reached out to stop him. “Dude, I love Whitney Houston. She’s got a killer voice.”

              Seth turned a shade redder than before. Alex had never seen him flustered at all before. Seth was normally the one all put together, and Alex was the anxious mess. It was honestly pretty endearing, and Alex felt the butterflies in his stomach.  “I heard this on the radio and I kind of thought of you instantly.” Seth said quietly. “It just.. well. It makes me think of you every time I hear it, I guess.”

              Alex just kind of blinked for a moment, processing what that could mean, as Seth watched him carefully. But Before Alex could really say anything, Seth leaned in and pressed his lips against Alex’s.

Oh.

OH.

Alex closed his eyes as Seth wrapped his hand around the back of Alex’s head and pulled him in closer. His lips were soft and Alex thought he could taste a hint of Chapstick, and root beer. It was a million times better than the clunky teeth and lips kiss he and Luke had shared. This was like a movie kiss, in Alex’s opinion. The butterflies in his stomach, the way his heart was pounding- suddenly he felt like he really got why the guys in the band were so obsessed with girls  Being able to have moments like this, feel like this, without anyone judging you? Without anyone thinking you’re spreading a deadly disease? It felt almost as good as playing music.

              “And I will always love you-“ Whitney’s long hold of the note drowned out the sound of Alex’s mother’s heels clicking down the hall, but not the screech she let out after pushing his door open and seeing the two boys’ moment.

Alex wouldn’t forget that sound. Or the sound of the front door slamming as his Dad sent Seth and his parents away without even eating.

              “Dad, it’s not his fault.” Alex said as his father stormed back into the dining room where Alex stood next to his mother. As his dad started to yell again, Alex cut him off.  “Dad! It’s not his fault. I-I kissed him back.”

His father froze, eyes wide, face purple. Veins were bulging on his neck. Alex hadn’t meant to say that.

              “I’m gay, Dad.”

He sure as hell hadn’t planned on saying that. He took a deep breath and continued. “Look, I know it’s upsetting, but I’ve known for a while and I didn’t know how to tell you guys. I didn’t want to disappoint you, and-“

              That was when the glass pie plate with his mom’s famous cherry pie hit the wall next to his face. Alex ducked to avoid the plate of cranberry jelly that followed it. His father only stopped hurtling dishes at Alex because his mom stepped in between them and told him to leave the house. He ran out, shirt covered in cranberry goop splatter and cherry pie filling. He must have looked like he’d murdered someone when he’d shown up at Bobby’s house. Bobby’s mom brought him clean clothes and let him spend the night. After that Thanksgiving, Alex noticed Luke’s parents looking at him strangely after church. Reggie’s parents didn’t let him come over anymore, not that he did much anyway. And Seth got accepted to a “boarding school” that Alex had heard whispers about. He never saw him again.

~

             “Alex?” Julie stopped just inside her bedroom, by the door. Alex jumped up from where he was sitting by the window. Somehow, during his trip down memory lane, he’d wandered into her room, absent mindedly tapping on the bongo she had by her window.

              “Ah- Sorry. Boundaries. I know.” He mumbled, putting the bongo back on her windowsill.

Julie shook her head and sat on the edge of her bed, opposite the chair Alex had found himself in.

              “It’s okay. Carlos told me he heard drumming coming from in here and went to distract dad. When I didn’t see you in the studio, I just figured you went to spend Thanksgiving with Willie or checking in on your family or something.”  She looked at him intensely and he shifted uncomfortably. “Are you okay?” She asked quietly and reached her hand out to rest on top of his. It slipped right through him, and he pulled away, embarrassed. Here she was, trying to be a good friend, and he was lying to her and being an anxious wreck again. He started to protest, tell her he was fine, when someone knocked on her door. Ray stuck his head in.

              “Hey, niña.” He smiled at Julie. “Pizza should be ready in about ten minutes.” Julie nodded. “You did some good work today. Thanks for coming to help out.” She smiled back at her dad.

              “You know it’s always been my favorite part of Thanksgiving.” She told him. Alex noticed Reggie and Luke peeking out from behind Ray. “I’ll be down in a minute.” The guys slipped through the door as Ray closed it, both standing awkwardly.

              “We’re sorry, dude.” Luke started. “We kinda both forgot that Thanksgiving isn’t a great day for you.”

              “I got really excited because it’s always been a good day for me. I didn’t mean to brush off your feelings.” Reggie shifted his weight from side to side. “I just really love the parade and I heard there were puppies after it now and puppies are way better than football and-“

              Julie cut Reggie off. “You don’t like Thanksgiving?”

              “You work on Thanksgiving?” Alex countered. He knew he was being a little short, but there was no way he could handle Julie looking at him the way other people did when they found out he was gay.

              “We volunteer at Marsters House every year. We serve dinner and hang out.” She said. “And you’re avoiding the question.” Alex stiffened in his seat when Julie mentioned the word “Marsters”. Luke and Reggie went pale. Julie noticed all of it. “Please don’t tell me the Marsters’s stole music or something from you guys too.” She groaned. “It’s bad enough knowing Carrie’s dad isn’t who I thought he was, if Seth and Cory are liars too, I couldn’t handle it.”

              Alex was pretty sure he was going to throw up. Could ghosts even throw up? He tried to take a few deep breaths. “Julie.” He whispered. “I need you to tell me where this place is.”

              She jumped up. “No. No way. Last time you guys were upset and I told you where something was, you got sucked in by Caleb and I almost lost you to those stamps. No way!”

              “We’re going and you can’t stop us!” Alex raised his voice at Julie. “Wait, what are you doing?”

              Julie was grabbing her sweater. “I’m not letting you go alone. I’ll take you there. But you guys aren’t going alone!” Alex looked over at his bandmates.

              “Okay.” He said.

              “Dad?! I just realized I left my phone at Marsters’ House, I’m gonna go grab it!”

~

              It sounded like the aftermath of Thanksgiving dinner from just outside the building. There was yelling at football games and possibly video games. There were lots of people inside- most of them around his age. But the man who opened the door was decidedly not his age. But it was absolutely Seth.

              “I’m so sorry to bother you, but I think I may have left my phone in the kitchen?” Julie lied without a blip in her demeanor. Alex was both impressed and terrified. Looking over at Luke, Alex would be willing to guess Luke felt the same way. As they went inside, Alex knew he wouldn’t be going to the kitchen. Instead, he turned down the hall, and followed adult Seth into an office. On Seth’s desk was a photo of him with another handsome man- blond. Seth had a type.

              “Alexa?” Seth said, as he settled himself down at his desk. “Play Alex’s Mixtape.” Suddenly, Whitney Houston came from the speakers. Alex couldn’t breathe. Someone grabbed his hand. Julie. She squeezed it tight.

              “Thanks Seth! Happy Thanksgiving!” She yelled over her shoulder as she pulled Alex away. Reggie and Luke were waiting outside. He brushed past them for a few yards, pulling his hand free of Julie’s grasp, before having to stop. He crouched on the ground, arms wrapped around his knees, rocking back and forth as sobs ripped from his throat. He felt the rest of the band catch up, wrap their arms around him. He turned his head and sobbed into Luke’s flannel. Reggie rubbed circles on his back. After a few moments, as the sobs subsided, he realized Julie was murmuring something to him.

              “Alex, it’s okay. You’re okay. We love you, and you’re okay.”

He inhaled and wiped his face and looked right at Julie.

              “I’m gay.” She blinked a few times. Gave her head a little shake Looked at Reggie and Luke, who were holding their breath next to him.

              “I- Was-was I not supposed to know that?” She asked.

All three boy’s jaws dropped.

              “You knew?” Alex asked. “How long have you known?”

              Julie shrugged. “Since like, day one? Anyway, you talk so much about Willie too, so I just assumed that-” She stopped suddenly. “Seth. You’re Seth’s Alex. Oh my god.” She stood up and took a few steps back, then started pacing. “There’s no way. None. I don’t understand.” She looked at the guys. “Seth has seen the video my dad made for Edge of Great. How did he just not notice?”

              “I noticed.” A voice came from behind her. Julie whipped around. “Your dad called. Wanted to make sure we found your phone. I told him you had left already, but I figured I’d check to see how far you’d gotten. Didn’t expect you to have company.” Seth stuffed his hands into the pockets of his trousers.

              “Can you see them?” Julie asked.

              Seth shook his head. “No. But I mean, you’re talking to air. And it sure sounds like you’re trying to talk Alex out of an anxiety attack. Lord knows I’d done that a few times.” He got quiet for a minute. Alex stood, and walked slowly until he was face to face with Seth. He had more wrinkles around his eyes than Alex remembered, but of course. He was twenty-five years older. “Is he here?”

              “Tell him I tried to take the blame.” Alex turned towards to Julie. “Please.”

              She nodded. “He says he tried to take the blame. He didn’t want his parents to blame it on you.”

              “I mean, I did kiss him first. Anyway, they were going to send me for conversion therapy no matter what.” Julie winced. Alex looked back and forth between Julie and Seth.

               “What’s that? They sent him to a school. That’s what they told me”

              “No, Alex.” Julie said quietly. “It wasn’t a school.”

              Seth sighed. “Of course, that’s what they told him.” He looked at Julie and the empty space around her. “Um, where…”

              “Oh! Um, A little towards your left, just kind half turn, and he’s right in front of you.”

              Seth shifted and looked at Alex. “It wasn’t a school. It was a group of people who thought that, through a bunch of therapy and medical procedures, they could make me not gay anymore. Clearly, it was not successful, as I am still a flaming homosexual.” Julie giggled at that, and Alex couldn’t help but smile as he saw Seth’s face break into the familiar grin he once knew. His heart ached a little as it faded away. “I was worried they’d sent you to one too. And when I heard you had passed away from a bad hot dog, I worried- well, I was scared that it was a cover-up. That you’d… Anyway.” He trailed off. “I have no idea how you’re here. Or why. But I’m happy. I love Colby. He reminds me of you sometimes. You’d have been great friends. We met at a Whitney Houston Concert in DC when I was in college. He spilled his beer on me during I’ll Always Love You. I said you were sending me a sign.”

              Alex blinked back tears. “It was the best kiss of my life.”

              Julie smiled. “He said it was the best kiss of his life.” Luke pouted and crossed his arms as Julie’s eyes got wide.

              “It is a long story.” Alex laughed, as he wiped away some tears.

              “Want a ride home?�� Seth asked Julie. “Something tells me you’ve got a lot going on.” Julie nodded.

~

Later that night, there was a knock at the studio door. Alex did not expect to see Julie, in her pajamas and with a blanket and pillow outside the studio.

              “Hey! Are you okay?”

              Julie nodded. “We’re watching a movie.” She held up a copy of The Bodyguard on DVD. “I knew my mom had a copy somewhere.”

              As they snuggled on the couch, Julie’s back against Luke’s chest, her legs draped over Alex’s lap, Reggie sitting on the ground in front of them, holding Julie’s hand and leaning against Alex’s legs, he realized something.

              Maybe Thanksgiving wasn’t so bad after all.