#im really happy with how the glazes on the pie came out

[acornminiatureslog]

Spent today baking for a get together. Apple pie, blueberry pie, a batch of oatmeal chocolate chip cookies, and a banana bread! Need to remember to bake my banana bread in the smaller loaf pan, this one came out way too short, lol.

[creepling]

hi! happy 1k <3 may i request a piece with johnny x single mom reader + the prompt “will you stay?” “of course, i’m not planning on leaving anytime soon.”? i thought it’d be interesting if reader was formerly captured by the sawyer family, while she was on vacation with friends, but johnny relented and decided to let her go because of how badly she begged for her life & at the time her baby was only 2 months old, which she told him. so johnny being johnny as well, he was able to track her down a month later — at first just to check up on her, but he decided he wanted to help her raise her kid & kind of switch up his life since the baby’s father is (willingly) out of the picture. also reader is a young mom (early 20s), around the same age that johnny is, he’s just a lil older. they’re still warming up to each other/developing their relationship but to the reader’s surprise, johnny’s really good with kids & has done a lot to help reader out to give her a break? AAAA THIS IS A LOT OF INFO IM SORRY but i hope it makes sense & that you have fun with making something out of this <333

AAAA ok no but i love this, idk it makes sense for the sawyers to spare a victim if they have a kid?? the whole "family" motto would get to them lol. i love all your info but i apologise if i've missed out on anything. i've made this drabble more like a time passing sort of thing so i could include everything.

tags: angst. single-mum!reader. reformed!johnny. kid is gn (use of they/it). descriptions of trauma. johnny feels a lot of guilt. mild blood ment.

“Drop the god-damn knife, Johnny. She’s got a kid for crying out loud!” Drayton barked.

Johnny’s adrenaline shot through his body, tensing his muscles and trembling his hands. “Is that true?” He growled, eyes shot out at your petrified stare.

You pulled a Polaroid picture out of your pocket, your bloody hands staining the corners. You beheld it to Johnny, trying to steady your shakes. Johnny gazed at the picture, the newborn clouded in white, its eyes closed in a peaceful sleep.

“My baby . . . My baby. I need to go home to my baby,” You sob, begging on your knees, hysterics maddening all parts of your manner.

Johnny’s knife dropped to the floor, and he thought about every bad thing he had done. There was no coming back from this.

It had been a month of silence. A month of sleepless nights and looking over your shoulder. Breastfeeding became agonising. Your baby’s cries sent you into uncontrollable alertness. Your hair was brittle and your skin shallow, the stress shivering through your body like a ghost entering your soul.

The letters came around that time. Off-white envelopes with a few dollars in cash. All that was left was a note,

For the Baby, I’m sorry.

Meeting him again after the kidnapping was an anxiety-driven step, bouncing your baby on your lap as you waited in the diner booth. You convinced yourself you lost your mind, wanting to rekindle with your kidnapper. But you hadn’t heard from anyone since the birth; the baby daddy became non-existent. Your family refuse to return your calls. The only person willing to help you was Johnny.

He was silent across from you for a while. The only words he uttered were to order from the menu. He shovelled down an apple pie while you bottle-fed your child, lulling them to their afternoon nap.

“Why are you helping me?” You remember asking. Visioning Johnny’s deep gaze, his subtle glances at your first-born, a tinge of sadness glazing his eyes.

He said he owed you too much. Your baby deserved to grow up with a male figure in its life, and you deserved someone to protect you. The sight of your youthful features withering away from stress, the permanent damage he inflicted on you, ached your eyes and down-turned your smile. It kept him up at night thinking about you, struggling with the fussing cries and flashes of his brute force. He wanted to step up. He was ready for redemption.

He drove you back home, watching over his new companions with careful eyes. His arm outstretched as he turned the wheel, hoping not to disturb the baby’s slumber. The rascal woke up eventually, full of energy the minute you invited him inside. “Would you like to hold them?” You asked, unable to ignore his loving stares.

He felt like crying, holding something so precious. Knowing he nearly orphaned this child, ridding it of a beautiful mother. He swore to protect the kid, holding its gentle head and leaning it into his chest. His gentleness surprised you, the warmth filling your smile for the first time in months.

Johnny never left the house. He hadn’t seen his family in months and had no plans on returning. Your little one was proliferating, and Johnny got used to using his strength to pry the ankle biter from dangerous objects. He ditched the knives and retired into swinging the kid until they were out of breath from laughter. He stepped up, got a job, and brought money in to keep you secure.

He was a different man, and he changed you as a mother. He repented for his sins. He begged for forgiveness with every stare your way, with every gentle touch. You finally forgave him, praying that his presence is destined to be everlasting.

“Will you stay?” He held you in his arms as you choked up, clinging to his body. 

“I’m not plannin’ on leavin’ anytime soon.” Johnny kissed the top of your head, his arms around you. Your loving touch soothing the aching heart he’s adorned for decades.

[patromlogil]

Selfishness vs Selflessness: Analysis - Roman....

I know, I know, it’s been so long. This is part of the Deceit and Roman analysis (hence the tag list) though it contains mostly Roman with only a mention to Deceit towards the end. The next part will build on and expand on Deceit and Roman’s interactions and my theories as to what’s going on so please bare with while I sort that out. 

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Analysis tag list:

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I was going through Why Do We Get Out of Bed in the Morning last night for screenshots and uh well let’s just say it’s a revelation. I’d only really watched it when it first came out because I was having a lot of problems and I felt like I was being called out, so I also skipped it when rewatching a little while back. Watching it last night though, I realised, Logan really tears into Roman.

At one point Roman slips up and calls Logan ‘Patt’, and the way it’s set up, it looks like a genuine mix up, a slip of the tongue, and Logan just slams down on him.

I refuse to believe that Roman meant to say Patt deliberately, especially when he’s actually agreeing with Logan. Being mean in this moment would be counterproductive. Then there’s the fact that he looks so hurt when Logan doesn’t believe him, and calls him a jerk. Also I kind of headcanon that Roman has processing issues so sometimes his mouth runs a little faster than his head and he calls someone the wrong name, not maliciously but just as a momentary mistake.

Ultimately Thomas decides to walk the middle road between Logan and Roman’s extremes, but the ‘discussion’ is undeniably dominated by Logan. While Roman concedes that looking after yourself is important (just not as important as dreams), Logan completely removes hopes and dreams from the conversation. He demeans and belittles Roman’s perspective and by extension the Side’s contribution to Thomas as a whole.

And then there’s the worst part. The pie chart

Logan breaks down the day into various parts and okay he includes pursuing dreams but only at the very end as an afterthought, assigning it 0.5% of the day. And how much is that? Well I did the math.

Logan concedes 500 seconds of Thomas’s day for the pursuit of Thomas’s dreams. 500 seconds! That’s 8 minutes and 20 seconds! That’s 1/3 of the length of this particular video! Just over 1/5 of Selfishness vs Selflessness! I won’t lie, when I figured this out, it infuriated me! Pursuing dreams is Roman’s thing, it’s his purpose, it’s a good portion of why he exists! He’s the dreamy fantasy guy, and Logan places Roman’s value at equivalent to approximately two commercial breaks a day!

While this video is the best (and fiercest example) of another Side putting down and minimising his contributions, it’s far from an isolated occurrence.

In the Christmas video, though Virgil’s line in the song Roman wrote was flawed, both Patton and Logan constantly kept swapping lines and changing the lyrics, completely undermining his attempt to do something nice for them all with little to no regard for his efforts.

In Moving On, Roman had very little chill, clearly getting worked up, but while the whole video was about Patton and letting go, none of them seemed to think that maybe Roman’s clinging to the past was just as big an indicator that not all is right with him (something we’ve definitely seen more evidence for in SvS – ‘one and lonely’).

In Crofters the Musical, Logan, the guy who is always giving Roman grief for being excitable, emotional, and over-the-top, is just as bad, if not worse, when given a jam flavour of his own. Roman watches Logan gets a dream come true for both of them and become just like him but not being told to ease up or calm down, while also coming to a self-realisation that maybe he’s not as cool/popular as he always tells himself he is. Roman literally sings about how he’s lost his pride and doesn’t ‘have the vigor to bear’ it.

In Learning New Things About Ourselves, Virgil calls out Roman’s insecurity, and moments later, desperate to be the Side who comes up with a solution and prove that he soooooo isn’t insecure blurts out the first idea that comes into his head – getting naked since he does  his best thinking in the shower. Then, when he suggests that Logan’s overclarifications are stupid (something Logan has said before about Roman’s contributions), Logan reacts violently throwing a wadded up ball of paper at Roman. The others may call him out lightly with it, but they all just move on from it. Throughout the entire video, Logan refuses to accept that he is in anyway responsible until Roman has gotten to the point of apologising first (a common occurance with Roman and the others) and then concedes that maybe he is possibly in the wrong.

LOGAN MAKING AN EFFORT TO LEARN HOW TO CALL ROMAN STUPID IN AS MANY LANGUAGES AS POSSIBLE.

All these moments are small when considered separately but when you bring them all together, it paints a depressing picture of the other Sides, intentionally or otherwise, coming down on Roman and holding him to a higher standard with one hand, while undercutting his input and ideas with the other.

When you look at all this, and how it’s been slowly building, it really changes how it looks when Deceit speaks to Roman.…

[caiotlyn]

Home for the Holidays

Title: Home for the Holidays

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Words: 1462

Warnings: mentions of parental death, slight angst

A/N: Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, my lovely readers! Here’s a fluffy little Christmas fic for y’all. Hope you’re all having a wonderful holiday, and if not, feel free to message me or send me an ask and we can hang out! :D

This fic takes place pre-season one, so Sam‘s just left for college, and Dean’s on his own.

Also, this is my first time using a tag list, so I’m sorry if I tagged you on something you didn’t want to read or if you just didn’t want to be tagged in general. Just send a me a message and let me know you want off!

Feel free to check out the rest of my masterlist!!

~~~

The dingy bar smelled strongly of smoke and alcohol, but Dean needed a drink, and that was all he could focus on.

He huffed as he sat on the barstool and gruffly asked for a beer. The bartender  gave Dean his drink and hurried off to help the next customer. Dean took a swig from the bottle, not really caring that the drink tasted funny.

He had been somewhat emotionless these past few days; for once he’d be spending Christmas alone. Sure, he never celebrated much when Sam and their dad were around, but at least he wasn’t holed up in some random flyover state getting drunk off bottom shelf liquor.

“Is that Dean Winchester I see sitting alone on Christmas Eve?”

Dean spun quickly, recognizing the person’s voice almost immediately.

“Y/N?” The girl jokingly curtsied, and the two laughed. “You’ve gotta be kidding me!” Dean hopped off the barstool to pick the girl up and spin her around. “How long has it been? Three years?”

“I think we’re coming up on four now, but who’s counting?” Goodness, that smile on her still seemed to melt Dean’s heart, even after all these years. “What’ve you been up to? Where’s your old man?”

“He’s, ah, occupied at the moment. I actually don’t know where he is right now. I split off from ‘im a while ago.”

“Oh… well that’s too bad. Last time I saw John he got so drunk that he started telling me stories about your toddler days,” Y/N said with a chuckle.

Dean jabbed a finger at her chest playfully. “I’ll have you know that I was an adorable child.”

“You keep sayin’ it, and I just might believe it.”

“So,” Y/N started as she took a seat at the bar, Dean joining her. “What’re you doing in a crappy bar on Christmas Eve, anyway?

"Sam’s in California, Dad’s who knows where, and I’m here–not much to it.”

"Well, if you’re up for it, I’m getting some friends together, and we’re gonna be celebrating the holidays up at our cabin. Why don’t you join us?” Y/N smiled warmly. “It’d be a great time to catch up. From what I’ve heard, you and your dad have been all over the place.”

Dean didn’t have to think twice about his answer. “I’d love to.”

~~~

Y/N’s cabin wasn’t anything special. It was a typical log cabin in the woods. Snow covered the entire property, and white string lights trimmed the roof. Frost covered the windows, but Dean could see the warm glow of light and the numerous silhouettes of the people inside.

Immediately entering the cabin, the smell of apple pie and honey-glazed ham hit Dean’s nose. His eyes drifted to the living room where a group of people were talking over beer, and a fireplace crackled in the corner.

Dean felt a bit out of place–like he was intruding on an exclusive family event.

Y/N seemed to notice Dean’s uneasiness and took his elbow and led him to the kitchen.

There, a woman with long, braided hair and a puffer vest was taking a pie out of the oven while a bald man with a lumberjack-esque beard was chopping carrots.

“Rebecca, Quentin!” Y/N called, holding her arms out for a hug.

“Oh, it’s so good to see you, doll,” Rebecca said as she returned Y/N’s embrace.

“How’s it going, Y/N/N?” Quentin asked.

“I mean, you haven’t managed to burn down the cabin yet, so I’d say pretty good.”

Quentin threw a piece of carrot in her direction and mumbled a “shut up.”

“Guys, this is my friend, Dean.”

Rebecca and Quentin both said a cheery “hi,” and Dean was put a bit at ease. Y/N excused herself and Dean from the kitchen, eager to show him around.

“Come with me for a second,” Y/N said.

She led Dean down the hall past the living room and into a bedroom, closing the door softly behind them. Dean looked around the room, taking in all of the details with interest. He assumed this was Y/N’s room based on the photo garland above the bed. One specific photo caught Dean’s eye. It was a polaroid photo that Y/N had taken of the two of them the last Christmas they saw each other.

Dean gifted Y/N an instant camera that Christmas, and she couldn’t stop taking photos all day; Dean had to stop her so she wouldn’t run out of film too quickly.

This photo in particular was taken by Sam. It was the Christmas before he left for college. Y/N and Dean were both sat on the floor in front of their puny little tree. They were wearing matching Christmas sweaters that Sam had gotten them and had their arms around each other, laughing with wide grins and rosy cheeks.

Dean remembered loathing the holidays, but as soon as Y/N showed up, everything was instantly better.

Dean’s mind then drifted to the years when Y/N first came into his life. They were both tweens who were cooped up at Bobby’s at the same, and they’d been almost inseparable. John finally picked Dean and Sam up after a few months on his own, but by then Y/N was already long gone, out on the road with her own father.

They ran into each other a few years later, both seventeen and getting ready to start their adult lives. They were both at Bobby’s again, this time for completely different reasons. Y/N’s father had died while hunting a djinn, and Dean was just stopping by for supplies. He saw her huddled in the corner of one of the guest bedrooms, and his heart nearly broke. She wasn’t crying or anything–her face wasn’t even red.

She just looked numb. Empty. Broken.

Dean knew because she looked the exact same way he did when Mary died.

He slowly entered the room, and as soon as he sat on the bed, Y/N wrapped her arms around him and sobbed into his chest. They spent the night in each other’s arms, and Bobby didn’t seem to mind one bit.

After that night, Dean promised himself that he would never see Y/N like that ever again.

The Christmas that was captured in the photo was the first one where Y/N was actually herself.

Now here they were: celebrating the holidays together in a cozy cabin and finally catching up after so many years.

Y/N laid down on one side of the bed and patted the spot next to her. “Don’t be shy, Winchester. We’ve done this before.”

Dean slowly climbed in next to her, and she snuggled into his side. They laid there for a few minutes without talking, simply enjoying the other’s closeness.

“Uh, not that I really mind, but why’d you bring me in here?” Dean asked, breaking the silence.

Y/N sighed and shrugged her shoulders. “Just wanted to be near you is all.”

“You’ve still got feelings for me, don’t ya, Y/N/N,” Dean teased.

“Shut up,” Y/N replied, shoving his shoulder.

“So what if I did,” Y/N said after a few minutes.

Dean leaned his head back to look at her face and found that she was completely serious. His heart did a flip, and a wide smile broke out of his face. “Well I’d say that I still have feelings for you, too.”

Y/N peered up at him and smiled. Without thinking, Dean leaned in and kissed her, cupping her face with one hand. For a moment she didn’t respond, and Dean was getting ready to pull away when she winded her fingers in his hair. The beer on his tongue mingled with her peppermint chapstick. A feeling of warmth bubbled up in Dean’s chest, his sense of longing now fulfilled. He and Y/N fit together seamlessly, like the kiss was meant to be.

A soft knock at the door abruptly ended the moment.

“Food’s ready!” the voice on the other side called.

“Be there in a second!” Y/N replied.

She turned back to Dean and groaned into his chest, and he chuckled at her annoyance.

“C'mon,” he said. “Let’s go get some of that delicious pie.”

“You and your freaking pie.”

The atmosphere in the main part of the cabin was one of comfort and happiness. The food was great, and the people were more than eager to welcome Dean into their little family.

Although he barely knew anyone, he had Y/N by his side, and that was good enough.

Dean might not be seeing his family for quite some time, but with Y/N, it was like he was already home.

~~~

Mrs. Whozeewhatsis Tags (+ a few others that I think might enjoy this):

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