#also swapped out eggnog for. reasons.

[unravelingwires]

Conversing

Jaya looked up. “Laurena.”

“Vijaya.” Laurena sat down and took out two glasses, filling both with posset and sprinkling nutmeg on them. When Jaya didn’t move, her eyebrows raised, Laurena sighed, “It’s Christmas Eve.”

“I’ve always associated you with sentiment.”

“I can take one day off.” From what, Laurena didn’t specify.

“It just seems a little arbitrary to choose today.”

“Just because you have no respect for the holy days—” Laurena cut herself off. “Never mind.”

Before she could leave, Jaya plucked a glass off the table. “Is this alcoholic?”

"Really?"

"I'll take that as a yes." Jaya took a sip. "Is Astra at home?"

“She didn’t want to bother finding transportation tomorrow. I told her we could just fly in with you, but she doesn’t want to get up at 3 am. I’m honestly surprised your mother is letting you stay at Perses this long.”

“Max talked to her for me.” In hindsight, he probably pointed out if Jaya and Laurena were alone together they could bond. Jaya considered her glass for a moment before downing it. 

Laurena looked somewhere between amused and irritated. “He always was persuasive.”

“Please. Did I tell you about the time he tried to override the student government?”

“He tried to what?”

“Alright, so about two years ago—”

[thejesterconcept]

Swap!Sans headcanons!

Possible autistic? I mean, people already headcanon Classic Papyrus as autistic, and Swap is just like him, except Swap has no gloves

He and Error get along somehow? Like, at first, Error was a horrible friend, but grew to liking Swap

Alignment: Chaotic Good

He definitely thinks Fresh is his friend

Doesn’t get why Error hates Fresh, but tries to mediate between the two. He fails

Has just accepted Error’s weird ways of (platonic) affection

Doesn’t understand queerphobia either, he just wants the friends

No labels when it comes to lgbt. He’s just vibing, man

Listen, he can kick butt if he were to put it all in a fight, but he doesn’t fight a lot for the most part, and when he does, it’s not normally a serious one(at least, that he’s aware of), so he comes off as weak, but really isn’t

He can very much be a menace if he decides to be, know you’re at his mercy

A pet peeve of his is called ‘Blueberry’. Blue is kinda alright, but BlueBerry was formerly a nickname his Papyrus gave him, but got turned into a mocking name by others so Swap wouldn’t admit it, but he doesn’t like being called that anymore

He says screw gender norms

Well, not worded like that, but kinda. Has worn a dress exactly once, but will do so again if you test him. He wore it purely for spite

Also, befriended Error out of spite

Swap does a lot of things out of spite

It’s literally half the reasons he wants to be in the Royal Guard, the other half being protecting people and cool, obviously

Likely has tried to befriend Nightmare and his gang, but had to learn the hard way for some of them, that not everyone will be his friend

In the CPAU, he got Error to bring him the stuff for spiking the eggnog

He also invited Error himself, and Reaper

Weirdly strong? He can pick up his brother, Dream, Ink, most people he can pick up, although not multiple at once

He’d like to be able to pick multiple people up at once though. It’d be cool to him

He finds it funny whenever people are shaken and/or amazed at how strong he is. He laughs at it

[sidecarghost]

(x)

Proof Castiel is Sam Winchester’s blurry non-gendered spouse.

Y yo at ti, Cas.

And I, you.

Castiel honoring Dean’s wishes. And watches over Sam for the rest of his life.

Spn 11x23 Alpha and Omega

CAS: I could go with you.

DEAN: No, I got to do this alone. Listen, if—when—when this works, Sam—he's gonna be a mess. So look out for him, okay? Make sure he doesn't do anything stupid.

CAS: Of course.

DEAN: [places his hand on Cas’s shoulder] Thank you for everything.

I think Sastiel would have fun married couple adventures. And they’d both be amazing dads for their son Dean. Cas probably splits his time between cosmic duties with Jack and time with Sam. So his presence is more in the background and out of focus then attention demanding.

Sam and Cas both miss Dean terribly, but they accept Dean just wasn’t ready to flip that hourglass over one more time for a chance at a normal life. And even though they can’t understand it they respect that it was Dean’s choice to make.

Getting married wasn’t planned by Sam and Cas, but they both consoled each other over Dean’s violent passing at a young age. And Sam wanted to hunt but knew better than to hunt on his own so he prayed to Cas, and Cas came to help. When Cas learned Dean Winchester died from getting jabbed by pointy rebar he was devastated. Dean didn’t pray to him, so Cas kept his distance from Heaven. He figured Dean would call when he was ready for him. Or if he was ever ready for him.

Cas knew Dean would want Sam to have a good life, so Cas picked that as his new mission and made sure to carry foam packs to cover pointy metal wherever Sam went. Sam rolled his eyes at Cas’s attempt to baby proof the Earth but he was touched to see the angel pull himself out of his own misery to watch over Sam.

After months of monster hunting Sam told Cas he was quitting. The hunting had been a way to cope with the soul crushing sorrow of losing his brother. But hunting wasn’t who he was anymore. Castiel thought and nodded. He thought the Winchester’s had bled enough for humanity and deserved some peace.

~~ I meant to poke at this idea a little bit, but it got lengthy and remainder is under the cut. And it’s just a happy Sastiel fic pretty much following the finale without much deviation, but is meant to make the whole Sam montage less soulless. I don’t have any resolution for Dean, because Dean’s character is just ruined for me at the moment. His meaningless death in series finale still prevents me from writing anything remotely cheerful for Dean. So I’m just avoiding doing anything more than mentioning him.~~

Sam and Castiel rented a little house, because the bunker was too depressing to live in. Castiel called in a favor with Jack to expunge all the Winchester’s public records. Sam and Dean were now upstanding citizens with a spotless record. Dean’s obituary now stated he died during a construction accident while working on a barn. Castiel had a mausoleum built for the Winchester’s, and even though Dean’s remains had been burned he tracked down every molecule of scattered carbon ash that had been part of Dean and set it in his coffin. He also held a second service for the hunter that was a huge affair exactly as Dean had wished for when he faced off against Amara.

Meanwhile, Sam Winchester had started taking night courses to get his law degree and pass the bar exam. With his spotless record he was able to become a prosecuting attorney and did amazing work bringing criminals to justice within the judicial system.

Castiel ends up being really good at dog training after working with Miracle on obedience and agility training. So he starts a dog training school for pet owners to learn how to train their pets without any harsh methods.

One day around Christmas, Sam and Cas are sitting on the couch watching some lgbt hallmark Christmas movie and drinking eggnog. Cas leans his head on Sam’s chest, and they start kissing and they don’t stop. Maybe they both still missed Dean and were just looking for a distraction or maybe they both had slowly fallen in love with each other over the years. They have a small ceremony and Castiel spends the rest of his immortal life proudly bearing the Winchester last name as his own.

Angel reproduction may grant human vessels hermaphrodite sex organs or maybe Sam finds a spell that lets Cas or himself swap sex. Whatever the case, they decide to have a family and nine months later their son Dean is born. Dean is a nephilim, and he has a good heart and a kind soul just like his dads. And he also has all the selflessness and sensitivity of his deceased uncle enjoying a solitary road trip across Heaven.

Original Charlie was brought back by Jack, (along with everyone else that had sacrificed their lives and wanted to have another chance to live a normal life). Charlie buys baby Dean the most obnoxious toddler overalls ever with the name “Dean” embroidered in bright yellow across the front. Sam takes one look at them and after a fit of laughter gets ready to throw them in the trash, but Castiel starts tearing up over them and traces out the letters. Sam doesn’t have the heart to tell him how ridiculous the pants look, so he just smiles at Cas and places a hand reassuringly on Cas’s waist and hopes Dean isn’t looking down from Heaven and seeing that outfit.

Sam lives a long life, and his death occurs at an old age while in hospice care at their home. Castiel knew Sam’s life was coming to an end, and he had been keeping an eye out for the reaper that would come to collect Sam’s soul. And finally one day he sees a reaper beside the bedside of his beloved. Cas fetched their son Dean to Sam’s bedside. He wants their son to have a chance to say goodbye to Sam while he’s alive, and then Cas will accompany Sam’s soul to Heaven. Castiel watches invisibly next to the quiet reaper standing nearby. He still feels a terrible ache in his heart that Dean had missed out on growing old.

After all this time, Castiel had still never heard a prayer from Dean. Bobby had told Castiel that he mentioned to Dean his rescue by Jack from the Empty. But that Dean had taken off in the Impala after that. It seemed that Bobby couldn’t resist busting Dean’s chops about John Winchester living next door. Maybe that attempt at a joke shook Dean, and he just needed 40 years to collect himself.

Regardless of the reason for Dean’s silence, Castiel thinks about the best way to facilitate the reunion of Sam and Dean without causing Dean any distress. Castiel decides he’ll stay invisible when Sam and Dean get their reunion in Heaven. He’ll let Sam tell Dean when he is ready, or maybe Dean will ask about him and that makes him smile softly to himself.

With that settled Cas lets his attention rest on his son. He is so proud of his and Sam’s son, and he is sure Dean will be proud of his nephew too. Their son will be able to visit freely between Heaven and Earth so this goodbye isn’t the end for them. 

Sam and Cas’s son, Dean, leans over the recumbent body of Sam Winchester and kisses him goodbye and tells him it’s okay to go. Sam’s eyes close for the final time. Then, a moment later, Sam’s soul is standing next to Castiel and the reaper. All the years have vanished from Sam’s appearance, and Cas is looking at the same young man he had fallen in love with watching formulaic romcoms some 40 years ago. Their son, Dean, can still see Sam, because his nephilim abilities let him pierce the Veil. He embraces his dad, and Sam tells his son to come visit him in Heaven whenever he wants, and Sam whispers to his son to promise to take good care of Castiel for him. Their son, Dean, nods with sincerity and whispers back to his dad Sam that he’ll keep that promise for the rest of his life.

Sam turns towards Castiel and the lovers share a passionate kiss. All the chronic pain from Sam’s failing health is gone. And Cas feels a rush of excitement from Sam’s rising libido. Cas kind of wishes the reaper and his son weren’t standing right there at this moment. Sam notices Castiel’s discomfort and laughs. He then offers his husband his hand to hold. Castiel gazes at Sam’s face with eyes full of love and takes hold of Sam’s hand.

Castiel locks on to the location of Dean’s soul in Heaven. He unfurls his majestic rainbow wings and flies Sam to a few feet behind his brother on the bridge. After he sets Sam down he sees Dean smile, and he hears the brothers greet each other. Castiel remains invisible and he sees the reaper responsible for Sam nod and teleport away. Castiel feels tears come to his eyes watching the two brothers have the reunion they have deserved for so long. He watches them embrace and smiles to himself.

A moment later Castiel teleports back to his home with his son Dean. The father and son hug, and Castiel begins making plans for a celebration of the life of Sam Winchester. He wants the funeral of Sam to be the biggest ever seen in their state. Sam and Dean had been true heroes and their memory deserved no less. The mausoleum where Sam and Dean’s remains rest will be guarded for eternity by the angel that loved them beyond all logic and reason.

While Castiel makes himself busy planning, his son Dean helps tidy the house and stumbles over a board game. “Hey dad, how do you play Twister?” Dean asks. Castiel can’t resist smiling and begins to explain the rules of the game to his son. “Can we bring some of these games to Heaven when we visit dad Sam and uncle Dean?” Dean asks. “Yes, I think that’s a great idea,” Cas smiles to his son thinking back to playing “Sorry” with Dean and “Connect 4″ with Jack. He feels like those were memories from yesterday and not decades ago. But decades is barely a moment relative to the immortal life of an angel.

“These games are special, Dean, because they give us the most precious thing in the universe,” Castiel tells his son. “They give us time spent enjoying the company of our loved ones. I haven’t spent very long on Earth in the company of humanity, but in my short time here I learned that time is a gift. It’s the most precious gift we can give the people we love. And spending that time on big gestures is never as fulfilling as just all the little things we can do together. The grand gestures seems to get forgotten rather quickly by those closest to use. Big events are important for posterity and the history books, and they are important for shaping the world we live in. I want Sam and Dean to have a big, beautiful funeral so their memory lives on for the people that didn’t know them well. The big funeral isn’t so much about me honoring them, as me keeping their story alive for posterity. But honoring them is even more important to me, and I honor them with every decision I make, for every moment of the day, for the rest of my existence. I choose the selfless and sensitive choice that Dean would have chosen, and I choose the courageous and loyal choice that Sam would have chosen. Humans were never meant to be grand visions set on a pedestal, they were meant to be appreciated on a much smaller scale along with full attention to their strengths and their quirks. 

“And our life spent together hurtling through space in orbit around a star is oddly enough defined by the mundane. The simple times spent together are the treasures that we seem ideally equipped to hold close and carry on.”

[thiswasinevitableid]

Gift (Indruck)

A second fill for @crepuscularlives

16. we didn’t read the invitation that said this party was formal so we’re in our ugly christmas sweaters. SFW

Duck’s fully prepared for Aubrey, and maybe even Mama, to tease him for his Newton family christmas sweater. When he gets to the Lodge to find everyone dressed swanky, he thinks it’s some sort of elaborate prank. He decides to ask Barclay, since he tends to be less invested in pranks than the others. 

“Uhhh” Barclay points to a stray invite, “it said formal, see? We thought a change of pace would be fun.”

“Fuck. I just came straight from a family thing, didn’t think it’d matter.”

Barclay pats his shoulder with a warm smile, “Don’t worry about it, man, it’s not like anyone’s gonna toss you out for it.”

Duck grumbles something about not wanting to stick out as he turns, and spies an even uglier sweater across the room. It’s bright green and fire-engine red with, covered in old-school colored bulb christmas lights, blinking like fireflies. 

Somehow, it suits Indrid perfectly.

The Sylph waves when we spots Duck, coming over to join him by the drinks table. 

“Hello Duck, I’m glad this is the future where you’re here.” He ladles himself a mug from one of the two crockpots of eggnog. 

“Howdy, ‘Drid. Glad I ain’t the only one who went for the ugly sweater vibe.”

Indrid cocks his head, “This is the nicest thing I own.”

Duck groans, reaches up to hide behind a hat that isn’t there.

Indrids smile widens, “I’m joking. It was a, ah, what do always call it...ah yes, a goof.”

He laughs, relieved, “Jesus, you got me good.”

“It’s payback for the time you convinced me that squirrels were carnivorous.” 

Duck snickers at the memory of Indrid, in his moth form in the woods, eyeing the squirrels warily. 

He joins Aubrey, Thacker, and Dani by the fire, and Indrid wanders over to oin them, taking a seat next to Duck when the human scoots over to offer him it. Thacker talks about the library and the regrowing cities, and Indrid’s face turns wistful. Duck suspects only he can see it, Indrid’s glasses showing enough of his eyes from the side to make emotions clearer. 

(Indrid always sits across from people. The last few times they’ve met up, he sits next to Duck).

In spite of only some gentle ribbing about his clothes, he keeps picking at the sleeve of the sweater. It’s a little itchy, and he could have worn that nice green shirt with the pine tree tie that he likes. And every time he catches a glimpse of himself in a window, he’s back in space, watching an evil hivemind recreate it’s pattern on a mimic of his sister. 

“Is it bothering you a lot?” Indrid murmurs.

“N-no, uh, I, uh, just, fuck, it’s nothin,” He stops talking, flees Indrid’s red stare to refill his cider. He pauses to talk with Kirby and Ned, is looking around the room for a new spot to sit (and for Indrid), only for a tan hand to wave him into a hallway. 

“Here, try this.” Indrid ties a discarded gift ribbon around his wrist, and he’s no longer looking down at the wool sweater and jeans. He’s in a deep gray suit, with a green shirt and a silver tie. 

“Holy shit. Wait, do I look-”

“-different? No, I left your physical form intact. I can make disguises of different magnitudes. A simple clothing swap is easily done. And I, ah, I did not want you to spend a night with friends lost in frightening memories.”

Duck’s about to thank him when the words sink in. 

“There was a future where you told me. I, ah, you’ve mentioned what you saw at Reconciliation before, but not that detail.”

“Wasn’t scared so much as pissed.” Duck glances at his shoes, now well-shined loafers. 

“Understandable. And useful; the odds were not in your favor, believe me. But well-timed anger can change the course of fate. Just as choosing mercy--even when others urge for violence--can. Punching me also reset fate rather dramatically.”

“Yeah, sorry about that.”

Indrid’s smile is small, and stunningly fake, “It was for the best. I’m going to get some more nog. Would you like some?”

“Nah, still gotta finish this. But I do wanna try some of that salmon dip.”

“In true bear fashion.” Indrid’s smile turns genuine when Duck snorts and elbows him. 

They talk and mingle with their friends, Indrid making frequent returns to the nog bowl. Duck steps outside for air, comes back and spends a moment watching Indrid by the fire. Stern notices him, steps away from an animated conversation with a ghostly Boyd about art forgery to join him. 

“Quite the dapper costume change.”

“Thanks. ‘Drid did it for me.”

Stern follows Duck’s gaze, then casually sip his wine, “Have you told him yet?”

“Told, uh, told him what?”

“Duck, you spend more time with him than almost anyone else.”

“Half my friends live on another planet now.”

“And every time you look at him, your smile changes. His does too. According to Barclay, he talks about you like you’re the most fascinating thing on earth. Right, love?” He kisses Barclay’s cheek as the cook joins them.

“Yep.”

There’s a crash as Indrid loses his balance and knocks over a lamp, which Aubrey freezes mid-air.

“Shit, he’s hammered.” Barclay sounds surprised. 

“How much rum did you put in the nog?” Duck doesn’t remember the sip he had from Indrid’s cup tasting that strong. 

“I made two batches, one with booze and one without. Indrid was drinking the non-spiked one earlier. Wonder when he switched.”

“About the time Duck changed clothes.”

“...How did you not catch us durin the Pine Guard days again?”

Stern smiles, “Barclay can be very distracting when he wants to be. And none of you have ever asked exactly how much I worked out.”

He has a point. As does Barclay when he points out that Indrid should have someone take him home after the party.

When Duck offers him a ride, Indrid chirps excitedly, bonks his forehead on the roof of the car, and climbs in. By the time they get back to the ‘Bago, Duck knows he can’t just leave Indrid here.

“You’re staying?” Indrid bounces on the bed as Duck turns on the space heaters. 

“Just ‘til you sober up. I’ll stay out in the main cab so you can sleep.”

Indrid lets out a chirr that intensifies when Duck slips the ribbon from his wrist. It almost sounds perturbed. 

“I mean, uh, I can go if you really need me to.”

Indrid shakes his head, barely managing to get his shoes off before burrowing under to covers, “Please stay as long as you want.” 

Duck nods, excuses himself to use the bathroom, and comes back to Indrid chirp-snoring into the pillows. He’s such a cute, weird man. Duck will just sit down a second to make sure he doesn’t wake up and need something. 

The one small seat is taken up by a binder, which opens when Duck lifts it. Instead of the expected paper avalanche, he finds drawings, each in their own plastic slip. He flips through it as he settles in the chair. Interspersed with the drawings are papers labeled in one or two two words of Sylph, and Duck reverse engineers their likely meanings from the images that follow them. The section with all the plants and animals must be “nature,” the one with parties and state fairs “events.” There’s even a section that’s all elements of winter holidays; the Rockefeller tree with decorations that suggest the 1930s, a menorah in a window, candles on the table of a house that’s seen better days.  Towards the back is a section that has to be “friends.” There are one or two people who appear in images with Indrid. Including the kind that make Duck quickly turn the page. The further he gets in that section, the more familiar faces he sees; Barclay, Aubrey, Jake, Ned. 

He sees himself, returning from saving the world, battered but alive. 

“The odds were not good”

Tucked at the very back of the section, between the final empty pages and the binder, is a folded paper. Curious, Duck opens it. 

It’s him. With Indrid. They’re on Indrid’s tiny bed, kissing.

God that looks nice. 

Startled by his own thoughts, he tucks the picture back into the binder and sets the whole thing on the floor. Decides one of the paperbacks strewn on the floor is a better way to occupy himself then accidentally finding more personal images. 

--------------------------------------------

The world is ending, everything is ripping away into the sky, everything he’s fought for is gone. He failed. He didn’t want a destiny, and he’s failed the fucking thing anyway and it’s all gone and there’s no future for him now but to be torn into ash-

“Duck, Duck wake up” 

He jolts, whams his head into the wall of the very intact Winnebago at the edge of the still standing Monongahela while a very alive, now-sober Indrid leans over him. 

“Owfuck.”

“Oh, oh no, I’m sorry, you were very clearly having a nightmare and I figured you’d like it to stop.”

“Yeah” He rubs his head, “yeah I did. Thanks. Sorry if I woke you up.”

“Given that in many futures our positions were reversed, I don’t have a lot of room to complain about someone shouting in their sleep.” Indrid sits down on the floor next to the chair, stays silent as Duck coaxes his breathing to even out. A hand hesitates in the air, then touches his arm, rubbing it reassuringly. 

No one else saw it. Not even Minerva or Leo, the only people who could understand the horror of seeing a thing unfold with scant chances of stopping it. 

Indrid’s hand brush lightly over his own before returning to his arm. 

No, not the only people. 

“Indrid, can I ask you somethin?”

“Of course.”

“The day we let The Quell through and saved the worlds did you, uh, did you see what woulda happened if Aubrey hadn’t blown the gate apart?”

“Yes.” The reply is quiet.

“Do you, uh, still see it sometimes?”

“Now and then, but I have far more bad timelines in my mind, and more failures in my past, for my nightmares to draw upon than you do. That is half the reason I drank so much tonight. Around the time of the winter solstice, my nightmares increase in frequency and intensity, Sylvain only knows why. Sometimes substances dull that.”

“Oh, ‘Drid.” Duck turns in the chair. Indrid’s gaze stays straight ahead, but his fingers shred a nearby scrap of paper. 

“The irony is, I love this time of year on Earth, in spite of the chill. I love the winter holidays, the gathering of warmth and light to hold one over until the spring returns. But my enjoyment of it is dampened by the workings of my powers and mind.”

“Fuck, guess I oughta count myself lucky I only got a few bad visions to remember.” The joke falls flat, and Indrid glances at him. 

“That vision is nothing to laugh at. I’m glad you had it all the same, glad you triumphed and survived.”

“Woulda really sucked to accept my destiny only to fail at the last fuckin second.”

He shuts his mouth to stop the next thought from escaping; Indrid doesn’t need to know that he sometimes fears that everything he’s done and wants to do now that fate is no longer hanging a talking sword over his head will somehow be hollow.

“You were so much more than your destiny, Duck Newton. You still are.” 

The sincerity, half-obscured in shadow and red lens, is too much. He doesn’t know what to say, or if he should say anything at all. 

“Guess, uh, guess you likin the holidays explains that section in the binder.”

“Yes. Wait. Did, ah, did you look through the whole thing?” Fear slips into his voice. 

“Uhhuh.”

“Even the, ah, the last page?”

“Yep. Some real beautiful drawin’s in there. Some mighty interestin ones too.”

Indrid nervously taps his fingers together, “Since you are about to ask, that future took place shortly after the cottonwood. You, you came by to apologize for punching me and to tell me you were glad I was alright and, and ask me to stay in Kepler and when I asked why, you did that. Just one little kiss. That’s as far as I got before the timelines changed. It’s, it’s alright, of course, that’s how timelines work, and you did eventually apologize.”

He did, two or three separate times, and each time Indrid brushed it off, insisting it was what needed to be done.

Duck sinks to the floor, turns on his knees to bring them face to face. 

“What are you-” Indrid stiffens as Duck gingerly pushes up his glasses. He’s never seen Indrid’s face like this, uncovered but still human, and it takes all the air from his lungs.

“Which eye did I hit?”

Indrid touches the right side of his face. Duck tips forward, balancing his fingers on Indrids thighs, and kisses the corner of his right eye.

“There. Now it’s a real apology.” He whispers in Indrid’s ear, close enough that faint, hopeful chirps reach him. He moves a few inches down and over, lips the barest strip of air away from Indrid’s own. 

“You, you don’t have to. Just because something appears in a future doesn’t mean it’s fated to happen.”

“What if I want it to happen?”

Indrid surges forward, cupping Duck’s face. His kisses re feather-light and sweeter than nectar, and Duck wants to drink them down, knows that after this taste he’ll never be full. 

“Duck I, h, I want” Indrid clings to him, his words turning to chirps nd clicks, as he’s so overwhelmed by a little kissing.

“Want me to keep, uh, ‘apologizin?”

“So very much.”

“Then take me to bed, darlin.”

The instant they hit the bed Indrid pulls Duck atop him, fingers fawning over his body as he kisses him over and over. When they stop to catch their breath, Duck remembers something,

“‘Drid, what was the other half of the reason you got drunk?”

“A problem of my own making. I did not foresee just how you would look in your suit, and I was trying to avoid an, ah, embarrassing bodily response. Alcohol helps my kind of Sylph in that regard.”

Duck chuckles, nips Indrid’s lower lip, “want me to put it back on?”

“Not just yet.”

“Want me to kiss you ‘til we fall asleep?”

“More than I’ve wanted anything for Christmas in a long time.”

Duck kisses him, keeps teasing their lips together as he murmurs, “then consider me your resent, darlin.”

[popculturebuffet]

Ducktales Reviews: How Santa Stole Christmas! or Scrooge is kind of a dick

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays everybody! Christmas begins on this blog with the last new Ducktales of the season! Time to break out some eggnog, presents and warmth of good family, i’ve got a bushel of Christmas reviews planned for the season, and this one is just the start of htem. As you can probably tell by my enthusasim I love this holiday. Oh sure it has it’s bad sides, paticuarlly several jackasses making huge deals out of the fact some people say happy holidays because “there’s a war on christmas” when really their just petty morons who can’t accept theirs more than one holiday in the month and not everyone likes christmas. I do, but I know not everyone does, and that’s fine. But overall it’s a fine holiday with warmth, cheer, family, generosity and of course, what brings us here today, really damn good episodes and specials of television. It’s just a really warm and cheerful time that , whlie it can bring out the absolute worst in people.. can also bring out the best more often than not. And that’s why I love this holiday. If you don’t that’s just fine, but it’s my blog, I can love what I want. And I love this holiday.. and I loved this episode, a good end to a great run of episodes. So let’s rock around the Christmas tree and find out why Scrooge hates santa, this is How Santa Claus Stole Christmas!

We open with the classic night before Christmas poem.. only naturally since Della is reading it to the boys, it’s Scrooge’s version involving barbed wire and calling the man a traitor because what honestly did you expect. Though I find it ironic a man introduced in a Christmas story has a one-sided blood feud with Santa. The boys are annoyed with this and just want free presents and the presecne of a jolly fat man and don’t get why Scrooge hates him. And yeah.. all of that tracks. They were raised by Donald who, while he clearly spent several years at Scrooges tolerating this feud, likely figured the Feud was just some personal gripe of scrooges and that Santa had done nothing that terrible. Which given Scrooge isn’t personable on the best of days and the episode goes out of it’s way to point out Scrooge has no friends, is entirely accurate and Donald was, as always the sane one in this situation. Plus he was already mad at Scrooge, this was just another way to tell him to go fuck himself. 

The boys hear what they think is Santa on the roof but turns out to be Scrooge, in full Scottish war garb manning traps with webby.. in full chimney camo... putting a knife to Dewey’s throat for siding with santa.. well okay pointing at his throat but still god damn. Every now in then i’m reminded how ready Webby is to murder someone. It never gets easier or less disturbing. The boys.. continue to make a good point: Scrooge says he’s the richest duck in the world and can provide them whatever.. but being Scrooge just gives them itchy hats made of cheap fabric, and bemoans them wanting a trampoline, a new electronic game, and a new phone. And while Scrooge can give them whatever he wants, it’s his money, he also could’ve put some actual thought into it and clearly views the holiday more as a transaction and less for hte acutal sentmient. Instead of giving them personal mementos, or making them personal mementos, or even just simply building them a sled or something, a simpler toy than what they want but still something nice that comes from the heart.. he just gave them the cheapest hat he could find and tries to guilt them for not liking his thoughtless present he probably bought in bulk for everyone in the manor and his employ because he’s kind of a dick sometimes. IT’s good storytelling though as it sets up that Scrooge.. can possibly be int he wrong, so when the main plot comes to his front door, quite literally, there’s some doubt as to wither he or santa is in the wrong. Speaking of which Santa is at the door. So cue the credits and cue the cut for the rest of the plot as is usual. Full spoilers, and full plot under the cut. Ho ho ho. 

First a quick comment on the Holiday version of the theme, the same one from Last Christmas! IT’s really good, a really nice frank sinatra style verison of the theme. Good stuff. My only real complaint is like last time.. there’s nothing unique about it, it’s just the normal season 3 intro but with snowflakes. And that’s.. more on Disney than the creators. If Frank and Matt had the option they would likely do an entirely original intro.. it’s just Disney can be cheap when it comes to intros, see how possesed ludo stayed in the star vs intro long after that plot point was resolved, and only affords one a season. That being said they still have one up on most networks, who, with the exception of Netfix with she ra, never really let intros change more than once, if at all. I mean I get it, budgets are higher here than with anime, they can’t do a new song and intro every half a season.. BUUUT it wouldn’t kill more stuidos to do this more often and do a complete intro overhaul, as it adds freshness, and you can still use the same old theme, just over a new set of pretty images. Most just allow a few swap outs, Disney included, and while I get intros are expensive, this is something you can use for a whole season, or more, why are you like this? 

Anyways one theme song and me complaning about an animation trend I don’t like later, we’re inside the Manor with none of the other adults present because this season hates me. I do actually get it this go round: Besides Della, Donald and Launchpad getting a full subplot in the other holiday episode, they aren’t really needed. In fact most of the episode’s present day is a framing device for the tale of how Scrooge and Santa met and why Scrooge hates him, so for once the minmal use of the supporting cast.. is actually done well. The focus is on Scrooge and Santa, a feud that’s had four years build up in real time, and two years in series and a bunch of months. So yeah, i’m okay with sidelining everyone for once, because this story really needed all of the space and there was no real place for them aside from the climax. This is Scrooge and Santa’s story, with Webby there as an impartial-ish observer. We’ll get to that in a moment.  Also if your curious where in the fuck this episode fits on the series massively warped time scale.. i’m going with this and “The Trickining!” taking place before season 3, since “Astro Boyd” takes place in march, and “Forbidden Fountain” takes place in probably late april, huge thanks to a friend on discord for help with the timeline. Otherwise it just makes no sense whatsover and while it dosen’t TECHINCALLY need to, I prefer the series timeline at least making some rational sense. The world dosen’t have to but time still does. So the boys are at least 12, possibly turning 13. Congrats. Or maybe they just don’t age. I dunno. 

Now time and plot concerns aside, Santa gladly gives the boys their gifts which is.. everything they listed: A mini tramp for Dewey, Legends of Legend-Quest 2 for Huey, and another phone for Louie, which Scrooge dosen’t get. But Louie gets it on 2 levels: One, the one he asked for is probably a nicer model and as someone who just got a very marginally nicer model on insurance, I get it, even if like Scrooge i’m fine as long as mine works, it’s still nice to have more space to do shit. And two, he plans to sell the old one and keep the money. So yeah the boys already loved Santa but now they have every reason to since, you know, Santa actually gave them what they asked for and Scrooge gave them itchy hats because he’s cheap not because he put the slighest thought into it. And no i’m ont letting him get away with that: Again, off list, perfectly fine. Right behind me on my sprawl of book shelves is Weird Al’s biography, a really fun, really intresting book with photos on his career. I did not ask for it, but my mom rightly knew I would love it and got it for me for my birthday, which is very close to christmas, the 16th if you were curious, anyway, and I’ve treasured it since.. and really need to re-read it. My point is you CAN get someone something they didn’t ask for and still have it be something they LIKE. I did that for most of my christmas gifts this year. Scrooge just, as I went on about above, didn’t give a shit and was a bit callous about it so yeah, Santa wins this round.  But Santa naturally needs Scrooge’s help to save Christmas because his ankle’s sprained and he’s out of options. Scrooge.. naturally refuses because, as i’ve made clear this and past episodes, he can be kind of a dick and Santa is one of his worst enemies in his mind. Why help him? So Santa, reluctantly, offers Scrooge the one thing you can get for the man who has everything: An agreement to leave his house alone. The boys aren’t happy about it, but Scrooge reluctantly agrees to the deal. They prepare to mount up though the boys aren’t invited, as Scrooge thinks their too far in the Santa camp and Scrooge does not trust him. Which again is both accurate and fair on their parts as again, he gave them things with well meaning and love, he gave them hats he fished out of the dollar store clearance bin. I mean at least go for the dvd’s and blu rays man. Yeesh. Santa does lightly buy them off by offering them another present if their good boys. Though honestly given Santa in this universe, he probably was going to anyway and this is his nice way of getting them to stay behind to make Scrooge happy. 

So as they take off, while Webby is wary of Santa, she is curious what happened, especially since earlier Scrooge actually did finally voice his gripe, if without any full length explination: Santa took Christmas From him. And Della might know that, Scrooge likely didn’t tell her or Donald the full story and Donald rightly didn’t buy it was that one sided. And it isn’t as we’ll see. Since the episodes divided up into two storylines, i’m once again splitting the difference. This time though I would like to mention the story is beautifully woven in, with both complementing each other: there’s some legit suspense as we wonder if Santa did something really that bad or if he’s lying to webby, or if Scrooge being Scrooge was just exaggerating or holding onto a grudge that was partly his fault. It’s genuinely well done to build up the story and helps really flesh Santa out as a character in both stories. i’m only not doing that because my short term memory, while good enough to hold the story for now can be spotty, and this is a lot less taxing on it. Also parts of this segment happen before the boys leave, but it’s easier this way. Sooooo... 

Times Past: Santa’s Worst Christmas Some time ago... seriously I don’t know. Scrooge was born in the 1800′s and Christmas well existed by then, to the point there’s actually a story starring young scrooge published over seas. Granted the Duck’s are no stranger to christmas, as I already covered Christmas on Bear Mountain for Scrooge’s birthday, and will be covering “A Christmas for Shacktown’ sometime this December. It’s just something worth noting. But given this universe can do whatever it wants, having it invited sometime in the early 1900′s or late 1800s is fine just fine. 

Scrooge is a coal salesman, selling people what they need but getting no shelter as he’s, again, an ass. But in the depths he finds Santa, whose having trouble puling his sleigh, and gets them in the previously closed door with kindess and saying he’s with me. We now get an idea of who Santa truly is: a kind, selfless soul who thinks nothing of himself, and is happy to offer a gift in exchange for something, but does so only in the most well meaning, warmest way possible. In short this Santa really is.. what Santa is at his best in stories; a kind, generous man who just wants to make people happy. He just gave a gift not because he wanted to bribe his way in, but because he was genuinely hoping for some shelter and wanted to be greatful. It also shows that clearly, even if something did happen.. Santa probably isn’t evil. A twist still could’ve come.. but spoilers.. it dosen’t. Santa is genuinely this kind and self sacrificing and noble. He’s just a good person.. and that would ultimately be the problem but we’ve got a lot of subplot to cover.  So Santa parties with what are clearly going to be his elves, and turn out indeed to be elves at the end when the fire goes out and Scrooge is suddenly in buisness.. and he and Santa make a great team, as Santa talks him up and says he can deliver a whole year’s worth of coal all over the world by Christmas Morning, so Christmas DOES exist here, it’s just Santa didn’t which kind of tracks. Well played. I’ll keep my earlier mistake in there though. Keeps me fresh. But Santa offers to help.. after all what are friends for? And Scrooge says their not friends.. their partners. 

And Santa says why not both. And a friendship is forged. And it makes sense.. while i’ts not as tight as it will be, Santa is a warm generous guy who helped Scrooge multiple times just to be kind: He helped him find shelter to repay his kindness helping him.. then helped him sell his coal, when he didn’t have to and while he upsold him on what he could do, did so not out of malice, but so his friend could sell MORE and with eveyr intention of helping. And this friend is someone he just met, is kind of cranky and rude.. but as we all know is a good person underneath and to Santa.. that’s what he sees.. the kind young man who helped him pull his sleigh when he didn’t have to and was already cold and miserable. And that.. that just warms my heart a lot.  But Scrooge being Scrooge has a mystic artifact that could help: The Feliz Navidiamond, a mystic artifact that can seemingly control time he got off a  spanish sailor needing coal. The two head in but encounter it’s guardians. The Magic reindeer! And that’s part of what I love about this episode: besides really getting christmas, we’ll get to that, it has a creative and intresting Santa origin baked into the show’s mythology that also shows off an intresting part of Scrooge’s past. Santa manages to pacify them with jingle bells and our heroes head inside.  In the cavern they find a Giant Snowman.. because this show is fucking awesome and Santa’s attempt to be nice bacfires but Scrooge’s natural paranoia and gumption pull through. It shows off why they make a good team: Santa’s niceties helped them with the reindeer, and netted them future transportation, while Scrooge’s natural grumpus tendencies help when nice just won’t do it. They work well together: one’s a showman and the other hasn’t learned how yet, one is nice the other naughty. It’s easy to see why they worked so well together.. in both senses. They make it past the Snowman and find that the diamond slows down time running on “christmas time!”.. seriously a great pun and one of many this episode. This show had a chance to go all out on holiday puns this go round and they did not blow it. 

But... sadly... and obviously the good times can’t roll forever and when we next return to the story it’s a year later. McDuck and Klaus coal is a MASSIVE concern, and Scrooge is eager to get started... but Santa.. wants to just give gifts instead. To do something Generous. Buisness just isn’t in him and he just wants to do something kind. It’s.. not a bad goal.. i’ts just not Scrooge. To Scrooge it’s a betryal of all he stands for: foreswearing profit to give something for nothing for seemingly no reason and to a younger even meaner scrooge.. it’s an utter betryal.. and a breaking point. Either his daft presents idea.. or Scrooge. And why yes this episode is dripping with ho yay and why yes this does resemble his painful breakups with goldie. And why yes is glorious.. Imean I wasn’t shipping Scrooge with santa before but now? Hot damn. But yeah the two have come to a parting of ways, and Scrooge bitterly leaves, while the elves reveal themselves. And my heart hurts “The Empire Builder from Callisota” bad so thank you and fuck you show.  It also probably shows why Scrooge has exactly one friend, who also works with him so it’s complicated, in present day: He just dosen’t want to let people in... and now we know WHY. The first genuine friend he made, the first person he let into his heart.. betrayed him. It’s no wonder it took decades for Beakly, then the kids to get into his heart again: the guy’s been betrayed by goldie, in his mind betrayed by santa and as we’ve seen his own dad turned against him eventually. He had no one for so long, he built a wall all around him but the wall was too tall and it blocked out all the birds and the son. But this .. is a really damn good story that fleshes Scrooge out and explains his hardness. In the comics it was Glomgold.. here.. it’s much more personal and cuts much deeper. And I absolutely love it. This story could’ve neatly fit into life and times if it made any sense in Rosa’s timeline, and it would be just perfect there. 

PRESENT DAY: Concentrated Awwww

The present day plot is a lot simplier but still fantsatic: Webby slowly warms up to Santa depsite herself.. despite Scrooge clealry seeing she is.. she sees the man is just.. nice. He gives her a new crossbow, a really nice one she probably didn’t even expect to get given you know, everything and knowing scrooge, and appricates the sentiment and slowly sees the man isn’t some monster, but just a jolly old fat man who wants to give presents. Even Scrooge seemingly warms up a little.  We also get tons of cameos during delivery, as they visit tons of supporting cast.. sadly no Darkwing.. but this one was clearly meant to go anywhere and is clealry set before “Let’s Get Dangerous”, but tons of other great bits: We get the Drake recidence with Boyd getting a present.. and somehow also doofus whose filled his stocking full of.. something. I don’t want to know and you can’t make me ask. You can make me ask why the fuck Doofus gets a present, but it could be filled with bees or maybe Santa truly thinks theirs good in him.. which .. yeah tracks. I mean not their being good in him.. I think dr. loomis said it best.. I mean it was about micheal meyers but.. same diffrence minus the patricide?

I mean points for trying though Santa, you mean well you loveable bear in both senses of the word you. But anyways other cameos include Fenton, alsleep with his armor strewn about, aww, with the gizmo armor set to hit people with fruit cake. Thought that was against the geneva convetion but alright. Scrooge’s been hit with worse. We also get them visiting the boat and giving Donald and Della presents, awww. And of course I saved the cameo I put up top for last as Webby visits her closest friend and her gilfriend and gives both an adorable cheek kiss. Though only Lena reacts.. probably because this isn’t the first time Webby’s snuck into their bedroom at night but probably the first time it hasn’t been accidently creepy because she’s still learning boundaries. Also i did not realized they shared a room. Aww. Also it’s the first time we’ve seen their room, which as you’d image from a sorceress and a magical researcher/bookworm, it’s a massive sprawling library from what we see with a skull with a candle in it, a picture of a house, and a calender. IN short it’s perfect and i’m glad we finally saw their room. 

So yeah things are going well and Webby finally realizes “Shit Scrooge is the bad guy in this scenario” at the end of the story, realizing Santa was just as hurt by the split as Scrooge was and that he had to make the harder choihce for the right reasons. Unfortunately, as i’ve said a lot this review, SCrooge is a dick and only coperated, as he wasn’t using the magical present sack, but his own filled with Coal to teach people about responsiblity. Thankfully, Scrooge realizes he’s been a dick to the globe when he happens upon little Jeniffer, a small pig girl who mistakes him from santa and takes his coal, meant to warm her fires.. and makes it into a doll. And resists his attempts to take “Coalette away”... Scrooge then rants and .. we actually get a good reason for why he’s being such a douche... as a kid he had nothing, and a gift of coal for his fires would’ve been welcmoed. He simply just.. dosen’t get the frivolity. He gets the warmth and joy of the season but not the gift part. And it’s only seeing this small, innocent child, play with a doll, he realizes “A warm heart can keep you going through the coldest nights”. And it’s then he finally realizes why his old friend did what he did.. because as i’ve been saying the real gift.. is in the giving.. of giving someone something that makes their memories glow and their heart warm. Even a lump of coal can do that in the right hands... a toy can get someone through the roughest times and it’s the WARMTH of the gift you remember, not the gift itself. I remember that book I mentioned proudly.. as do I remmeber the copy of the art of the venture brothers right next to me, or the copy of the people’s doonesbury my best friend mike bought me, and so on.. not because of the book itself... but because of the thought and warmth of someone getitng something for you because they care, not for their own reward, but just to make you feel nice this holiday season. That’s the true spirit of christmas.  Naturally realizing the errror of his ways in true christmas story fashion, Scrooge is devistated by his own actions. And Santa is PISSED.. but Scrooge is now regretful.. if also pissed because Santa stormed in there and it turns out this was all a ploy to get his friend back... which destroys Scrooge’s anger as he realizes just how much his old friend missed him and how many years he wasted lashing out at him when , in the end, Santa was right. So with only so much Diamond power left, and time running out, what can they do to right this? Simple, Scrooge suggests splitting resources. 

So we get a glorious shot of the three boys, and the twins riding  the reindeer. Also we get Launchpad! 

Who naturally wonders if he can crash a reindeer while Beakly thankfully stops him from murdering Dasher. So Christmas is saved and Scrooge and Santa exchange gifts: For Scrooge, a set of bells with their old company name.. and for Santa? a garage door opener. While Santa’s confused turns out.. it’s to turn off the traps. He’s welcome any time.. just use the front door. Cue a big hug, and Webby narrating us out as Scrooge wishes everyone a merry christmas once again letting people into his heart.  I have.. the approirate response to that. 

Final Thoughts: Excellent, easily one of the best of the season, the series and possibly of chirstmas show episodes all together, we shall see when I put together my list. And given how utterly excellent Last Christmas already is, it was hard to top.. but they did it. This was a warm, wonderful special that gets to the heart of christmas.. and really why I LIKE santa so much. For all the comercailsim around him.. he’ s a kind generous man who gets kids to belivie in magic for a while, wants nothing in return , with the offering of cookies just there to be nice and thank him for being a good person, and just wants best for people. He’s what’s best about christmas rolled into a person. And the series gets that and makes him the kindest guy around. It ends up being a story abotu Scrooge learning the meaning of christmas, an irony that’s not lost on me, but in a way that’s diffrent and unique from last time and works just as well. It’s just a warm wonderful epsiode with plenty of great gags and adventure and a beautiful, unique story at it’s core that could only be told here with tihs cast and this version of scrooge and that’s what makes it so damn magical. Easily a fantastic note to go out on.  Next time on Ducktales: I don’t know! Next time this blog covers ducktales: We’re going back a few seasons to the only episode i’ve never seen, not even a little bit. It’s the treacherous summit of mt neverest!  Until then, if you liked this review, reblog and all that good stuff, follow for more ducks, and if there’s an episode of any show you want me to cover, my cyber monday sale is still going till midnight central, and even past that if you get in a liittle past it, so you can comission a review of any episode for just 3 bucks right now, 5 if you get to this review after monday. So spend if you have it.. and if you don’t.. happy holidays to you anyway. Have a wonderful season. 

[missmouse43]

Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas

Pairing: Castiel/Dean Winchester

Words: 3.2k

Read on AO3

AN: Here’s my contribution to the holiday cheer ^_^ Lots of love, friends.

The party was in full swing. Hunters and close friends alike from all over had gathered inside the bunker war room to celebrate the holiday season with the Winchesters. Sam had been a little reluctant to throw a party on Christmas Eve because, “They probably already have plans, Dean. No one will show up.” But Dean was adamant that this year they celebrate Christmas properly instead of ignoring its existence like the previous years, and Eileen actually backed Dean on this one, which was a large part of (if not all) the reason Sam conceded to his demands in the first place.

Turns out not a lot of people were out and about the night before Christmas and almost everyone on their list had shown up with warm smiles and arms full of presents for the organized gift swap later on. Dean had gone all out on the decorations. Red and green garland wrapped around the staircase banister, twinkly lights strung up around the room, holly shaped confetti sprinkled on the table along with a variety of baked goods and a punch bowl filled with eggnog that Dean definitely did not spike with a couple shots of whiskey.

There were little Christmas trinkets placed particularly on every available surface, including a miniature North Pole set with Santa’s workshop that Sam had been hilariously strict about getting it juuuust right. When Cas unknowingly put the miniature reindeer with the funny red nose at the very back of Santa’s sleigh team Sam nearly bit the poor guy’s head off. Dean made a note right after to go out and buy a copy of Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer on DVD the next day.

Cas liked it. So did Jack.

And finally—the grand show stopper—a beautiful pine tree, closer to 9ft in height that Dean hand picked and sawed down in the woods out back. Dragging this sucker inside had been a bitch, and Sam chewed him out for leaving a trail of pine needles all the way down the stairs but the end result had been worth it.

Bright, twinkling lights of all different colours created a steady florescent glow, bringing the tree to life and casting colourful shadows on the twisting rows of garland twirled upwards around the tree; they were silver this time. They had to go out and buy all of the bulbs currently adorning each branch, some big, some small, some with glitter, some shaped like reindeer, elves, and Santa’s sleigh. 

While on their shopping spree Dean came across an all-year-round Christmas store that offered customizable ornaments, and Dean bought one for each of them with all their names carefully painted on.

Sam’s was the face of a cartoon moose wearing a goofy Santa hat, because duh. Dean found a Coke bottle ornament that he had the shop keeper paint over to look like a beer bottle instead for himself. Eileen’s insistent input landed her with an apple red bulb with an intricately painted snowflake on the front. Jack took a little longer to pin down but Dean eventually settled on a golden retriever puppy popping its head out of a stocking.

And Cas, well—how could Dean not get him the baby angel painted on a dark blue bulb, stereotype complete with a halo and fluffy white wings. 

Dean thought it might be a little on the nose to place a suspiciously similar looking angel figure of Castiel on top of the tree, and after Cas had given him that look after Dean had been staring up at the top of the tree for several seconds with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes during the pre-decorating stages, as if Cas could sense what he was thinking, Dean thought better of it and stowed the idea away for another year when Cas developed a sense of humour. The bulb was a compromise, really. 

The truth was Dean had ulterior motives for throwing this party. Sure, it was a Christmas party, but it was also a different kind of celebration. This was the first time Sam and Dean had made a public appearance to the hunter circuit since they retired from the life. No more big bads to worry about? No more impending apocalypses? That was something to celebrate alright.

The world was in perfect balance for maybe the first time ever and it had been a unanimous decision for the brothers to quit while they were ahead before they inevitably screwed it up again. Of course Dean wanted to see everyone and catch up, but Dean was on a mission tonight, a different kind of mission than making sure everyone was having a good time. 

This was Castiel’s first time celebrating Christmas since he made the decision to give up his grace and retire with them—or ever, Dean thinks. It was wishful thinking to hope his best friend was ever offered the luxury of participating in one of humanity’s most sacred holidays. The ex-angel had caught even less breaks over the decades than both Sam and Dean combined. It was a welcomed surprise to learn that Cas was up for just about anything life as a human had to offer him, didn’t bulk at Dean’s borderline cheeriness at going all out during this holiday season, handled everything that was thrown at him in stride.

Even if Cas was flexible, Dean still didn’t know how Jack convinced a former warrior of God to wear a truly ugly Christmas sweater all day; this certainly isn’t what Dean had in mind when he said Cas needed to update his human wardrobe. And yet, somehow, Cas still managed to look good in it. In a sort of adorable/dorky kind of way.

And that was totally unfair if you asked Dean, because Dean could hardly take his eyes off him, was so obvious about it earlier this afternoon in the kitchen when Cas invited himself to be a backseat baker, practically perching himself on Dean’s shoulder, that Dean almost left the pumpkin pie in the oven for too long, resulting in a crispier crust than he would have liked.

But then Cas leaned in all soft and comfortable in his stupid knitted sweater and took a whiff, telling Dean how incredible it smelled, and Dean suddenly didn’t care so much about the slightly bitter taste of the crust, cared more about turning his face to hide the heat rising in his cheeks as he muttered a bashful “thank you” to the floor.

Cas seemed pleased to go along with whatever Dean had in mind and Dean really wanted to make it special for him, memorable; he was going to tell Cas how he felt. 

For the first time in a very long time Dean felt he was ready to do that, comfortable with his resolve in a way he never expected to be, never thought he deserved. It took months of internal struggles and the opportunity of having the time for that kind of major reflection for Dean to finally begin chipping away at the walls guarding his surprisingly fragile heart, figuring out what his not so tiny crush on his best friend meant for Dean as a person, mulling over all possible outcomes. 

An unspeakably mortifying—yet in the same hair’s breadth deeply cathartic—conversation with Sam almost two months ago was the catalyst Dean needed to accept that this was just the way things were, had been for a long time; his sexuality was just one part of him. It didn’t change who he was fundamentally as a person.

Dean wasn’t ashamed of who he was. How could he be when Sam was so open and accepting, waited for Dean to come to him, loved him fiercely and unconditionally? Dean saw what Sam had with Eileen—wanted that for himself. So maybe it took Dean a little longer than he would have liked to build up the courage to take the next step, but he was there now, reeling to get it all out in the open.

Dean’s so-called “plan” was actually more about the ending result than the choices he made leading up to it; he was just going to wing that part. Sure, maybe the thought of hanging mistletoe around the bunker had crossed Dean’s mind once or twice (six times) throughout the day, but in the end he decided against it, didn’t want their first kiss to feel like an obligation just in case Dean had read this wrong...

Although he was pretty sure he hadn’t with the way Sam and Claire kept giving him encouraging glances all night from across the room. Apparently they were reading something on Dean’s face that wasn’t at all subtle about what he was hoping for tonight. Dean tried not to feel self-conscious about that.

For the first hour of the party Dean kept a watchful eye on Cas, feeling something embarrassingly fond settle in his chest watching the ex-angel catch up with Claire, giving her a hug and whispering something in her ear that made Claire blush and look away, stealing a glance at Kaia talking quietly with Alex and Patience near the food table.

Somewhere between making his rounds catching up with Garth and his family, joking with Jody and Donnie, and meeting Charlie’s new girlfriend, Dean lost sight of him. Sam was busy introducing Eileen to another family of hunters so there was no help there in finding the missing party-goer.

Dean weaved his way through the crowd of animatedly talking and laughing guests to find Claire and Kaia huddled up close together, looking up and admiring the tree. Dean plastered on an easy grin, greeting them with a cheerful, “Hello ladies. Having a good time?” Claire seemed startled as she turned around to face him, too wrapped up in whatever conversation the two were quietly whispering about to notice his approach.

Kaia, seemingly unfazed, grinned right back at him. “Even better when I get another glass of that eggnog into me.” She tipped the now empty cup in her hand back and forth suggestively, bringing an automatic smirk to Dean’s lips. He would totally feel smug about that if, you know, he actually had anything to do with it. Which he didn’t, obviously. That was his story and he was sticking to it.

“You seen Cas?” It wasn’t Dean’s most graceful pivot in conversation but hey, at least he managed to keep the eagerness in his voice down to a minimum.

Claire answered him, her face giving nothing away. “I think I saw him step outside a few minutes ago.”

Dean nodded, glanced up at the door, shuffled his feet and said, “Thanks,” before turning towards the staircase. It was time. This was really about to happen. Were his palms sweating?

“Hey, Dean?”

The ex-hunter stopped short, turned back halfway to meet Claire‘s eyes. “You have my blessing,” she said. Her lips twitched in a teasing manner, but there was also an element of sincerity to her words, like she was telling Dean she trusted him not to screw this up, trusted him to treat Cas right. Dean still rolled his eyes, reactionary and lighthearted, and Kaia giggled, throwing him a thumbs up as Dean cut back through the room and climbed the stairs, trying to make as stealthy as an exit as possible. He had the last minute good sense to grab his coat off the rack and tug it on before heading outside.

As soon as he was above ground the icy sting of December air nipped at his nose and cheeks. It wasn’t snowing now but there was a couple of inches still on the ground, most of which had been shovelled away for Baby’s sake. It was a quiet night; not even the music and rowdy conversations from the party could be heard outside.

It was easy enough for Dean to spot Cas leaning on the railing on his arms near the bunker entrance, gazing out at the peaceful winter’s night, a look of contentment clear in the profile of his face. Dean brings his hands up to his mouth and blows on them a couple of times to warm them up—not to, like, stall or anything—and slowly walks over, makes his way to Cas’s left side, nudges him with his elbow as Dean mirrors his lean.

“Hey,” Dean says.

Cas turns his head, earnest in his delight at Dean’s presence, evident from the crinkles around his eyes as he smiles at him. “Hello, Dean.”

Dean softly clears his throat, aims for casual. “Hell of a party going on in there. What are you doing out here?”

Cas’s lips twisted into a conspiratorial little smirk as he jutted his chin out in front of him, gave a small nod towards the city, told Dean to, “Look,” and Dean did just that.

Lights. It was all lights. No, not the lights you would expect to see coming from a city at night, these were brighter, more festive; reds and greens and whites and blues and purples and yellows all melted together in a brilliant outpouring of colours blanketing the city. Even from a distance Dean could make out the rows of houses and buildings proudly displaying their Christmas lights for all to see. It wasn’t like Dean hadn’t seen anything like this before, but there was something innately beautiful about the picture it painted. Dean suspected the current company might have a hand in that as well.

Dean lets out a low whistle, says, “Okay. One point you,” hearing Cas hum softly in agreement next to him.

The conversation trickles out for a moment giving them time to take it all in, then, Cas speaks up again, sounding louder than he actually was in contrast to the stillness surrounding them. “It’s nice isn’t it? Having everyone together like this.”

Dean sighs, the sound coming out somewhat relieved. “Yeah. Feels kinda normal. Like all the shit we went through was worth it in the end.”

“To have this? Absolutely.”

Dean doesn’t let himself ponder too long on what all ‘this’ could entail. That sort of wishful thinking might just do him in before the night was even through. “What about you?” Dean tries shifting the attention back onto something a little less stupefying, but just as significant in importance to Dean. “Does celebrating your first Christmas live up to all the hype?”

Cas looks at him then, cheeks pink from the cold, eyes bluer than the rare privileges Dean has had from seeing them up this close in the past. “I’m very happy,” Cas tells him quietly, the volume in his voice in no way undermining the headiness of his confession.

Dean melts a little where he stands, lets their arms press into each other, shoulder to shoulder. “I’m glad,” Dean admits just as quietly, swallows past the lump in his throat and gains a bit more confidence as he adds, “Happiness—it’s a good look on you.”

“Thank you.”

A faint laugh falls from Dean’s lips. Of course Cas would be the kind of guy to thank Dean for his thinly veiled attempt at flirting. “No problem.”

“Not for that,” Cas corrects him, and Dean’s suddenly puzzled. There’s something akin to amusement in those blue eyes for a fleeting moment at Dean’s reaction before something more serious takes over. Dean is hopelessly mesmerized by his next worlds. “For letting me stay here with you in the bunker. I want you to know... there’s nowhere I’d rather be.”

And that was the moment, maybe stupidly, Dean realized that Cas had been waiting for him to catch up, waiting this whole damn time—would probably wait for Dean forever. And that was… yeah. That was something else. He didn’t have to, though, and that was kind of the whole point. Licking his bottom lip out of nervous habit, Dean finally manages to say out loud what he should have said months ago—years ago.

“Want you here. Wanted that for a long time.”

Cas stares at him, eyes widening ever so slightly, clearly touched by Dean’s admission, but he recovers quickly, mirth shining in his expression as he says, “That would have been nice to know.”

And Dean wants to kiss him then—holy crap does he ever—but Cas beats him to it, which makes sense, Dean thinks. Since the moment they met in that barn all those years ago Cas has been surprising him, challenging him. That’s one thing (among an endless list of others where Cas is concerned) Dean hopes he never loses. It was just a light graze of lips; there was almost no pressure behind it at all—tentative, imploring—barely considered a kiss, and yet so achingly sweet Dean felt his head go fuzzy for a few seconds afterwards, impulsively chases Castiel’s lips for another quick peck when Cas starts to pull away.

The two are grinning at each other now and Dean feels so light on his feet a giddy little laugh bubbles up from his chest and spills out of him. “What’s so funny?” Cas asked around a chuckle of his own, Dean’s display of elation clearly infectious.

Dean dipped his head with a smirk, bumped his forehead against Cas’s, teased, “I guess I didn’t need the mistletoe after all.”

Castiel hummed thoughtfully, happy to play along. “I think that’s a tradition I would still like to participate in. It does, however, require a partner. If you’re interested?”

Oh, Dean was interested. He was very interested.

“Well, we better get to practicing, then. You know, just so we get it right the first time with the real deal.”

Cas’s voice dropped an octave, words whispered just a breath away from Dean’s mouth. “I like your thinking.”

Maybe it was the high of the party, the sentimental gooeyness of holidays, or maybe it was just because Dean was so goddamn happy to have him here—was feeling sappy, murmured, “I like you,” against Cas’s lips.

“About time,” Cas breathes, then fully seals their lips together, silencing Dean’s punched out huff of laughter. As appealing as standing here and making up on lost time making out with Cas was, Dean had a tactfully better idea that didn’t involve either one of them freezing their asses off. When Dean was the one to pull back this time there was a brief look of irritation on Castiel’s face, impatience bleeding through, greedy for more.

Yeah. That was a look Dean could get used to.

Dean reached over and linked his fingers together with Cas’s, felt the chill of the other man’s skin against his palm, brought his hand up to his lips so he could kiss the back of Cas’s hand just because he could, let Cas’s adoring smile warm him up from the inside out. Dean leaned back from the railing, gave Cas’s hand a light tug. “Come on,” he urged. 

Dean’s request was met with a look of bemusement. “Where are we going?” Cas asked, not an outright refusal, just seeking further information. Dean’s heart did a pathetic little jump in his chest. Dean guessed that was another thing he was going to have to get used to, didn’t see that feeling leaving him anytime soon now that they were—this.

“Let’s take a drive. Get a look at those lights of yours up close.”

Castiel went willingly as Dean guided him away, party all but forgotten. Dean felt a firm squeeze to his hand, looked back at his new beginning, heart swelling, felt a snowflake land on his eyelash as Cas told him, “That sounds wonderful.”

[sero-sphere]

L.O.V Christmas Party

Warnings: Alcohol comsumption, swearing and dildos?

Word Count: 1,900

Really just wanted to write a soft shiggy, but here we are with this crack fic. ( League of Villians x f reader)

( ＾◡＾)っ✂( ＾◡＾)っ✂( ＾◡＾)っ✂( ＾◡＾)っ✂( ＾◡＾)っ✂( ＾◡＾)っ✂

A Christmas party? For villains? It was a bad idea, but yet here you were wearing an ugly Christmas sweater and Santa hat. Toga was in charge of decorating and you had to admit she did a good job, but there was fucking glitter everywhere. You peered down into your drink and held it up to the light, only to see it glisten as you swished it around.

“Ah tis’ the season I guess” You said to Spinner who was looking at you like you were crazy for even drinking that.

“You act like that’s the worst thing you’ve ever seen me do…. We were literally just out on a mission together.”

“Yeah I guess you’re right” and with that Spinner took off to the bar. Your eyes followed him as he passed the pile of shittly wrapped gifts in the center of the room,that were for a game of yankee swap later. You could only imagine the gifts that everyone had picked out. You then glanced over to the bar where you noticed a bunch of food set up. “I really hope there’s pie” you mumbled to yourself as you made your way over.

"Hey where did we get all this, it looks fucking amazing!" "I compressed a catering truck, sweetie...." Compress looked over to you, admiring your outfit. He himself was wearing a Christmas sweater, along with his usual mask and hat. "Nice dude! Those poor people!" Twice interjected before you had a chance to reply. He was in a Santa suit, minus the beard and hat. Instead of a Santa hat, he was wearing an elf’s hat in its place.You figured it was probably just his way of expressing himself. You pretty much pushed him out of the way when you saw what was directly behind him on the table.

“Oh, this pie is delicious!!” Your voice was barely understandable as you shoved a whole piece of the pecan pie into your mouth, filling up your cheeks like a chipmunk. Compress and Twice were staring at this point.

“Would you guys stop, I just really like pie ok?” You said while you were still chewing, making yourself look like an even bigger dumbass by talking with all that food in your mouth.

“So conceited, like I would be looking at you. You look so cute let me pinch em’!” Twice smirked as he made a pinching motion at your cheeks with his left hand, and pointed directly behind you with his right.

“No, we’re really not looking at you, don’t worry.” Mr. Compress nodded and suggested for you look over your shoulder. You turned around and came face to face with Tomura. You nearly choked when you noticed what he was wearing.

“Oh hi!!” You managed to whisper to the boy who was standing no less than half a foot away from your face. A Santa hat with thick white fur sat on the top of his head. You followed the tip down to where it hung over his shoulders. His hands were in his pockets instead of scratching at his neck for once. In place of his usual black shirt, he was wearing a thick, red knit, turtle neck sweater. It bunched up perfectly around his face.

“Hey, we match…I guess” His hand left his pocket and gestured to the hat you forgot you were even wearing at this point.

“That’s cute, I’m going to be sick.”  Twice scoffed.

“I’m going to go get a drink, you guys want one? Just kidding, I know you all do, I’ll be right back.” You left the three of them together as you made your way across the party to get some more drinks. You had to get away before you embarrassed yourself. Shigaraki was looking just too nice in his Christmas attire and you knew your drunk self couldn’t behave.

Kurogiri was tending the bar per usual.

“Gimme something that just screams ‘holiday season’ please sir.” You grabbed a candy cane from the table and started to unwind it from the plastic as he handed you some nasty eggnog drink. “Ugh really. Maybe something else?” You could have sworn you saw what you thought was an eye roll but you weren’t sure, could he even do that?

“Better?” Kurogiri passed you a red, but somehow still glittery drink. You took the candy cane out from your mouth and tasted it.

“Yes, thank you! Two more please.” Once the drinks were made you plopped the candy cane back in your mouth and carefully grabbed all 4 glasses at once and started off towards everyone else.

“Hey Shiggy, you want this eggnog? It’s gross so you'd probably like it.” You handed him the drink as you put the others down on the table for everyone else to grab.

“It’s probably not bad, Eggnog is pretty good. Especially if its’ got whiskey or bourbon in it…” a voice behind you spoke up.

“Dabi!!”  You trapped him in a hug immediately.

“Calm down doll, I’m not that special” Dabi leaned over and wrapped an arm around your waist, dragging you closer to him. He, like the party pooper he was, wore his regular clothes, nothing Christmas about him. It wasn’t new for him to be handsy either, he was touchy feely with pretty much everyone.

Shigaraki took a sip and nodded in agreement with Dabi.

“He really likes that?”  You thought to yourself. “Whatever tickles his pickle….oh god what have I done. Now I can’t stop thinking about his…”

“Y/n? You alright? Your face is bright red, it looks like you’re about to…” Dabi teased. You spoke up before he got to finish.

“I’ll be fine, I’m going to find Toga! I wanna tell her what an awesome job she did giving everyone craft store herpes!” You heard a few laughs as you took off in search of her. She was sitting on a love seat by the fire place chatting with Spinner. You went over to join her. She was wearing an oversized Christmas sweater and reindeer ears. She looked like a little kid.

After a few minutes of chatting she got up leaving the reindeer ears she was wearing behind. Dabi swiftly replaced her spot beside you.

“What’cha got there doll?”

“Hmmm, let me show you!” You reached over as he leaned closer to you, allowing you to put the ears on him.

“Ohh, he is just soo cute!!” Toga exclaimed. She was skipping back over towards the two of you, with a plate of goodies in her hand.

“That pie is to die for, ugghhhhhmmm” You moaned as you thought about having another slice….this would be your… what, third piece? You couldn’t remember, wait why couldn’t you remember? Oh right, the alcohol. How many drinks have you had at this point? Why couldn’t you remember that either? Oh right, because you were thinking about Shigarakis pickle and needed something to distract you.

Now,here you were, thinking about Shigarakis dick for the 2nd time tonight. Not that you hadn’t thought about it before, but now that you were this drunk it was dangerous.  Between all the drinks, and your thoughts, you were hot. Very hot. Dabi sitting so close didn’t help either, with his quirk and all. Your cheeks felt like they were on fire, so you decided to take off your Christmas sweater, leaving you in nothing but the skimpy red tank top you had on underneath.

Shigaraki, who was sitting by the bar watched your every move. He even watched as you skipped along to kiss Toga under the mistletoe. His stares were interrupted when Dabi, who had also moved from his seated position, crept to the bar where Shiggy was, for another drink.

"You know you can do more than just stare at her, right? Like maybe you could even go and give her a gift...."

“I mean, I could…but why? Christmas is stupid.” He tried to play it off like it wasn’t a great idea.

“Yeah it is.” Dabi groaned in agreement.  “but she's drunk as fuck, and probably hasn't gotten a Christmas gift...like ever. I don’t even know why I'm giving you advice… but man you look like a creep just staring at her all night.”

Dabi handed him another drink for encouragement and sent him on his ‘merry’ way.  As Tomura walked over towards you, he took a pit stop to swipe the first gift he saw from the huge pile of gifts in the center of the room. “eh, this will be fine I guess”......

“Hey, I caught someone trying to steal your sweater before so I gave it to Kurogiri to hold on for you.” He said grabbing your attention.

“Oh thanks, I kinda forgot about it…what’s that?” You pointed excitedly to the gift he had in his hand. There was no way it was for you, was it?  You watched as he handed it to you without even saying a word.

“It’s for me? Aw, thanks Shiggy, you shouldn’t have. I can’t even remember the last time I got a gift on Christmas….can I open it?” You said all too eagerly. Normally you would have been more humble about him giving you a gift, but you had drank too much to feel even the slightest bit of embarrassment tonight.

“Uhm, now? Are you sure?” Tomura admittedly didn’t even know what it was. What if it was something dumb and you hated it? He would have to come up with some reasoning for why he’d picked it out. He’d rather you wait, but he heard himself speak up.

“Yeah of course.”  What the fuck, he thought for sure he was going to tell you to wait, but he just said yes? He silently cursed himself as he watched you tear apart the gift, which he just now realized was wrapped with a little too much tape. Little bits were getting stuck all over you, so you jumped around a bit to try and shake them off. He couldn’t help himself as his gaze drifted down to your chest, almost zoning out. Watching as they jiggled slightly with every wave of motion. He didn’t even notice that you had successfully unwrapped the present, and were now staring up at him giggling.

“How’d you know! That’s just what I wanted!!! I mean like, I have been thinking about it all night.”

He glanced down at the gift in your hands, thankful that you actually liked it, and his stupid associates hadn’t picked out anything awful. Then he saw just what it was. Leave it to them to fucking pick this out. It was a big, pale blue, dildo. Almost exactly the same color of his hair. He was eternally screaming at this point. Since when did they make dildos in this shade? Why would someone buy that? He didn’t know what to do until he thought back to what you just said.

“Wait you said you were thinking about this all night?”

………………………………………………………………

“Yeah, were going to be one gift short, Shigaraki already swiped one, per my advice” Dabi stated as he was sitting down to start the game with everyone.

“Where is he anyway?” Toga chimed in. “And Y/N, haven’t seen them in a while”

“Who cares? I’m worried!” Twice roared from his seat beside Toga.

It wasn’t until they got the last of the gifts open that Spinner spoke up.

“Wait, I brought something hilarious, why haven’t any of you spoken up yet?”

“Dabi, said Tomura already took a gift for Y/N-chan remember…” Toga teased on.

Spinner put two and two together, and decided to let everyone else in on his gag gift. They all found it hilarious. Twice was rolling around on the floor almost in tears.

Yourself and Tomura decided to sneak back into the party at this point. Everyone was still laughing when you guys made your way in.

“What’s so fucking funny?” Tomura grumbled, startling everyone and making them jump.

[hermannsthumb]

number 17 from those winter prompts!!

17. i get your name during secret santa at work and use the same wrapping paper for my gift to my friend, so…sorry about all the sex toys

from winter writing prompts here

this one is so fucking good but i will admit i am having so much trouble deciding what friends newt has besides hermann LMAO. references to like, not sfw stuff (expected given subj matter) but nothing actually explicit. also yes im filling this a literal year later

-----------------------------

Contrary to what literally everyone in the Shatterdome might assume, Newt actually really likes picking out presents for Hermann. He might even say it’s easy. Why shouldn’t it be? He and Hermann spend all of their waking hours together. They know every last sordid detail about each other. They can predict the course of arguments and form rebuttals before the other’s even paused to take a breath. Shit--they even finish each other’s sentences at this point.

It’s one of the reasons he’s goddamn thrilled when he picks Hermann’s name for the base gift exchange, the other reason being that now he has one fewer gift to buy, because he was already planning on giving Hermann something in the first place. He’s already bought it, even. It’s two birds with one gift-wrapped stone. 

In August, Hermann ruined his favorite nice wool sweater when--turning in a bit of a hurry, in order to properly call Newt an idiot for some stupid question he asked--he caught a single loose thread of yarn on the metal ledge of his chalkboard and ripped a somewhat gaping hole in it. Newt knew he was especially upset about it from his reaction. Instead of shouting, or cursing, or somehow blaming Newt like he’d usually do, he just looked at the hole very sadly and said (just as sadly) “Oh.” In September, after a month of Hermann wearing the badly-patched and ever-fraying thing around anyway (and then finally chucking it), Newt finally managed to track down the same one online. Albeit it with a hefty overseas shipping fee. In November, the new finally arrived.

In December, Newt wraps it up in glittery tissue paper and sticks it in a small snowflake-studded gift bag, along with a few packages of Hermann’s favorite weird English digestives (also shipped overseas), a tin of his favorite shitty instant coffee, and a box of rainbow chalk tossed in for good measure. Hermann’s fun to shop for, so sue him. His tastes are simple and he’s grateful for anything. Newt bought him a heated blanket last year, and when he opened it, he looked like he was about to cry.

He places two tissue-wrapped dildos (one a large tentacle, the other bumpy and neon pink) and a high-quality vibrator in a second glittery snowflake gift bag and pushes that one far away from the other. That one is decidedly not for Hermann.

Hermann’s tastes are simple, but he far prefers practical gifts over personal ones, to the extent that Newt’s tiny splurge with the cookies is pushing it a little. If he ever tried to give Hermann something like a vibrator (though the guy could fucking use it, he’s tenser than a piano wire), Hermann would probably either malfunction or murder Newt on the spot. Tendo, on the other hand (the only other person Newt does holiday shopping for, barring the cards he sends his dad and old bandmates), prefers neither practical nor personal gifts, but instead the weirdest, most useless things that anyone can think of. He and Newt have been swapping accordingly (ugly Hawaiian shirts, weird booze, antique shop finds, etc.) at the past three Shatterdome holiday parties. This year Newt’s going with sex toys. Naturally. If he’s lucky, Tendo will just give them right back, and then Newt’s three sex toys richer.

Newt’s not very lucky.

He’s several spiked eggnogs into the party when he decides it’s a great idea to hand off his gifts. Tendo’s is first, though Newt doesn’t stick around for him to open it, and instead staggers off to find Hermann lurking in the corner wearing a tasteful Hanukkah sweater. He frowns when he sees Newt. At least Newt presumes he frowns because he sees Newt; he could’ve just already been frowning, which seems like a very Hermann thing to do at a party where no less than three different versions of Jingle Bell Rock have come on the overhead speakers. “Oh,” he says. “I was wondering where you were, Newton.”

“Don’t sound too excited to see me,” Newt says. He thrusts the snowflake bag out at Hermann. “Happy Hanukkah, dude! And New Year’s too, I guess. I picked your name.”

Hermann breathes a sigh of relief. “Oh, good,” he says. “Last year was a nightmare--they bought me a bloody necktie. When have I ever worn a necktie? Hold this, will you?”

He swaps his plastic cup out for the bag, balances it with one hand on the head of his cane, and rips out the tissue paper.

Then he pauses.

“I know,” Newt says, grinning and taking Hermann’s silence for the sheer overwhelming joy he’s no doubt feeling. Another successful year. Ten points to Newt. “Hey, try it on now, I wanna make sure it fits okay--I wasn’t really sure what size to get.”

“Size?” Hermann echoes in a small voice. His glasses are slipping down his nose. Then, in almost a squeak-- “You want me to try it now?”

“I mean, only if you want,” Newt says. He reaches out and pokes Hermann’s chest. Hermann sways on his feet, like he’s suddenly forgotten how to stand. “You’re a fucking twig, man, but you get everything so big.” He’s swimming in the sweater he’s wearing now, even. “Anyway, I know you ruined the other one—”

“You do?” Hermann says.

“Uh, yeah?” Newt says, because he was literally there. Hermann is giving him the weirdest fucking look of all time. Newt loses the grin. “It’s just a sweater, man, what are you…?”

Newt looks down into the bag. He doesn’t see a sweater: he sees an assortment of sex toys.

He must’ve switched the gift tags. 

“Oh, fuck,” he says. “Hermann, that’s--those--”

But Hermann cuts him off with a small cough. His cheeks are bright pink. “I know what they are, thank you, Newton,” he says. He coughs again. “I suppose I did...need another. Not the--I mean--” He flicks the spot of the bag the vibe is in. It’s Newt’s turn to let out a small squeak. “Only I didn’t realize I’d apparently been acting quite so--in need of one.”

Okay. Unexpected turn. Hermann likes getting giant bags of sex toys. Hermann...needed new ones? Hermann uses them in the first place? Newt doesn’t spend long periods of time daydreaming about what Hermann does in his alone time or anything like that, of course, but he always struck Newt as a very...old-fashioned type. “Oh,” Newt says. He shakes himself. He can play this off--keep it cool. “I mean, yeah. Ha! What are lab partners for? Gotta keep you, uh, relaxed, so you can focus.”

“Yes,” Hermann says slowly.  His blush spreads to his ears, so bright that it’s obvious even in the poor lighting. “Newton--when you asked if I wanted to try it--was that an, ah, an invitation, or…?”

“Oh,” Newt says again.

Hermann reaches out, very carefully, and touches Newt’s arm.

“You know what?” Newt says, suddenly feeling very warm under his collar. “Yep, it totally was. Let’s do that now.”

They pass by Tendo on their (very quick) way out, who is holding up the sweater meant for Hermann and looking extremely bewildered. Newton purposely avoids catching his eye. “Oh,” Hermann says, “I used to have one just like that.”

“Yeah, I think you did,” Newt agrees.

[trentteti]

Holiday Logic Games!

There are so many ways to get into the holiday spirit. Decorations, advent calendars, classic Christmas movies, gingerbread cookies, eggnog, submitting yourself to the unceasing churn of the late capitalist machine by doing an excess of holiday shopping.

If you ask us, though, the best way to up your holiday cheer is with a little bit of analytical reasoning. So today, we’re offering a special set of holiday-themed Logic Games. Complete these games, and you’ll be given the greatest gift of all … deductive acuity.

The LSAT-obsessed elves at the Blueprint HQ made these games, using real LSAT logic games as an inspiration. If you’re truly stumped, we’ve provided some quick tips below to help you find deductions, but you should attempt the games on your own before checking out those hints.

Reindeer Games

You know there’s Dasher and Dancer, Prancer and Vixen, Comet and Cupid, Donner and Blitzen. But do you recall … the most famous reindeer of all? Wait a minute. I just listed the eight less famous reindeer, and conceded that you knew of them. Of course you recall *the most famous* reindeer. I don’t know what I was thinking. But when Santa holds a track meet for his less notable reindeer, can you figure out the results?

Santa Clause is holding a track meet for his eight less famous reindeer — Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donner, and Blitzen — which Santa dubs “The Reindeer Games.” As part of the Reindeer Games — from which Rudolph was rudely excluded — the eight reindeer compete in a 100-yard dash. Each reindeer finishes will finish the race, and there are no ties. The order in which the reindeer finish the race is subject to the following conditions:           Comet finishes before Prancer.           Prancer finishes before Vixen, Donner, and Blitzen.           Blitzen finishes before Dasher (ironically).           Cupid finishes before Dasher and Dancer.

1. Which one of the following reindeer CANNOT be one of first four reindeer to finish to dash?           a. Dasher           b. Dancer           c. Vixen           d. Donner           e. Blitzen

2. If Cupid finishes sixth, which of the following must be true?           a. Prancer finishes second.           b. Blitzen finishes third.           c. Vixen finishes fourth.           d. Donner finishes fifth.           e. Dancer finishes seventh.

3. If Prancer finishes fourth, then any of the following could be true EXECPT?           a. Cupid finishes second.           b. Comet finishes third.           c. Dasher finishes fifth.           d. Donner finishes sixth.           e. Blitzen finishes seventh.

4. How many of the eight reindeer could be the one to finish second?           a. three           b. four           c. five           d. six           e. seven

5. If Blitzen finishes seventh, which one of the following must be false?           a. Dancer finishes second.           b. Comet finishes third.           c. Donner finishes fourth.           d. Vixen finishes fifth.           e. Cupid finishes sixth.

6. if Blitzen finishes third, how many of the eight reindeer could be the one to finish fourth?           a. two           b. three           c. four           d. five           e. six

Tips: In all basic, one-to-one ordering games, you should look out for ways to combine the rules. Look for players mentioned in more than one rule. In this particular game, you can combine all the rules into a large ordering chain that includes all eight reindeer. And pay special attention to the most restricted reindeer, on both sides of the ordering chain. Comet, unsurprisingly, is super fast — he has to finish before five other reindeer. Dasher, shockingly, is not that good at dashing, and has to finish after four other reindeer.

Christmas Movies

We’re not going to bore you with another discussion about whether Die Hard is a Christmas movie — obviously it’s a romantic comedy set during Christmas. But choosing which Christmas movies to view, and scheduling when to view each, can be a laborious task.

A movie theater will choose four of six possible Christmas movies — Die Hard, Elf, Frosty the Snowman, Gremlins, Home Alone, and It’s a Wonderful Live — to show over a week during the holiday season, from Wednesday through Saturday. On each day, exactly one movie is shown, and each movie that is selected will be shown only once. The schedule of the movie showings is subject to the following constraints:           Die Hard and It’s a Wonderful Life must be shown, but they cannot be shown           consecutively.           If Gremlins is shown, Home Alone cannot be.           If Elf is shown, it must be shown on Friday           If both Elf and Frosty the Snowman are shown, they must be shown on           consecutive days.

1. Which one of the following could be schedule of the moving showings, with the four movies listed in the order in which they are shown?           a. Elf, It’s a Wonderful Life, Home Alone, Die Hard           b. Frosty the Snowman, It’s a Wonderful Life, Elf, Die Hard           c. Gremlins, Die Hard, Home Alone, It’s a Wonderful Life           d. Home Alone, It’s a Wonderful Life, Frosty the Snowman, Die Hard           e. It’s a Wonderful Life, Frosty the Snowman, Elf, Home Alone

2. If Home Alone is shown on Saturday, which one of the following must be true?           a. Die Hard is shown on Wednesday.           b. Elf is shown on Friday.           c. Frosty the Snowman is shown on Thursday.           d. Gremlins is shown on Thursday.           e. It’s a Wonderful Life is shown on Wednesday.

3. Any of the following could be true EXCEPT:           a. Elf is shown immediately after Die Hard.           b. Frosty the Snowman is shown some time after Elf is shown.           c. Gremlins is shown, but not on Friday.           d. Frosty the Snowman is the only movie shown between Die Hard and It’s a           Wonderful Life.           e. More than one movie is shown between Die Hard and It’s a Wonderful Life.

4. If Frosty the Snowman is not shown, which one of the following must be true?           a. Die Hard is shown on Wednesday.           b. Elf is shown on Friday.           c. Gremlins is shown on Thursday.           d. Home Alone is shown on Friday.           e. It’s a Wonderful Life is shown on Saturday.

5. If Gremlins is shown on Thursday, how many of the six movies could be the one shown on Saturday?           a. one           b. two           c. three           d. four           e. five

Tips: Much like how Die Hard combines action with holiday cheer, or how Gremlins combines comedy with horror, or how Home Alone combines a family-friendly fun with disturbing sadism, this game combines grouping with ordering. We have to “select” four of six movies to be shown, but once we make our selection, we have to order the films from Wednesday through Saturday. Pay special attention to your most restricted film: Elf. If it’s shown, it has to be shown on Friday. You can construct two quick scenarios — one with Elf in and on Friday, and one with Elf out — to quickly advance through the questions. Also, of note: if Gremlins and Home Alone can’t both be selected, at least one of the two must be out at all times.

Made-up Holidays

There are so many great fictional holidays, from Whacking Day, to Leap Day, to Freedom Day, to Treat Yo Self Day. But none are more amazing than two Yuletide alternatives — Chrismukkah and Festivus. So put on your Yamaclaus and gather round an unadorned pole, to play a challenging game about these two Christmas competitors.

Six people — Elaine, George, Jerry, Kirsten, Ryan, and Seth — will celebrate either one or both of two made-up holidays — Chrismukkah (a Christmas/Hanukkah hybrid in which eight days of presents are followed by one day of many presents) or Festivus (an anti-commerical alternative to Christmas, which features both an “Airing of Grievances” and “Feats of Strength”). Exactly four people will celebrate Chrismukkah, and exactly four people will celebrate Festivus. Two people will celebrate both. The celebrations are subject to the following conditions:           George will not celebrate the same holiday as Jerry.           If Seth celebrates Chrismukkah, then Ryan must celebrate both Chrismukkah           and Festivus.           If Jerry celebrates Festivus, then Kirsten must also celebrate Festivus.

1. Which one of the following could be an accurate matching of the holiday to the person celebrating that holiday?           a. Chrismukkah: Elaine, George, Kirsten, Ryan                Festivus: Elaine, Jerry, Ryan, Seth           b. Chrismukkah: Elaine, George, Ryan, Seth                Festivus: Elaine, Ryan, Seth           c. Chrismukkah: Elaine, Jerry, Kirsten, Ryan                Festivus: George, Jerry, Ryan, Seth           d. Chrismukkah: Elaine, Jerry, Kirsten, Ryan                Festivus: Elaine, George, Ryan, Seth           e. Chrismukkah: Elaine, Jerry, Kirsten, Seth                Festivus: Elaine, George, Kirsten, Ryan

2. If neither Jerry nor Seth celebrate Chrismukkah, then which one of the following must be true?           a. Elaine celebrates both holidays.           b. Kirsten celebrates both holidays.           c. Ryan celebrates both holidays.           d. Elaine does not celebrate Festivus.           e. Kirsten does not celebrate Festivus.

3. Which one of the following two people could be the two who celebrate both holidays?           a. Elaine and George           b. Elaine and Seth           c. Jerry and Kirsten           d. Kirsten and Seth           e. Ryan and Seth

4. If Ryan and Seth celebrate different holidays, then which one of the following could be a pair of two people who only celebrate Festivus?           a. Jerry and Seth           b. Jerry and Kirsten           c. George and Kirsten           d. Elaine and Jerry           e. Elaine and George

5. Which one of the following two people could be the two who only celebrate Chrismukkah?           a. Elaine and George           b. Elaine and Seth           c. George and Jerry           d. George and Kirsten           e. Ryan and Seth

6. If Elaine only celebrates one holiday and George only celebrates the other holiday, then which of the following must be true?           a. Elaine celebrates Festivus.           b. Kirsten celebrates Chrismukkah.           c. Kirsten celebrates Festivus.           d. Seth celebrates Chrismukkah.           e. Seth celebrates Festivus

Tips: It doesn’t seem like it’s going to do much, but make two scenarios in this game — one with Jerry celebrating Chrismukkah and George celebrating Festivus, and one with George celebrating Chrismukkah and Jerry celebrating Festivus. It doesn’t lead to a ton of deductions, but it does give you a head start on some of the questions. Additionally, remember: when you’re forming a group of four from six potential players, as soon as you realize that two players can’t join a given group, that means the other four players must join that group.

Yankee Swap

Yankee swap — AKA white elephant, AKA dirty Santa — is coldest and most unforgiving of all Holiday ceremonies. You may think you’ve selected an amazing gift, until that gift is being pried from your unsuspecting hands by a supposed loved one. And, befitting this extremely ruthless holiday tradition, we have an extremely ruthless game about an office party Yankee swap. On the bright side, this game doesn’t quite follow the rules of a real Yankee swap … that would be very complicated.

Four officemates — Jim, Michael, Pam, and Ryan — will play a game of Yankee swap at the company Christmas party. During the first round of the Yankee swap, each officemate will select one of four gifts — a foot bath, an iPod, an old shirt, and a teapot — from a pile. The order in which they select, from first to fourth, is to be decided by a random drawing. Each officemate has ranked the presents from first (highest) to fourth (lowest), as follows:

          Jim: old shirt, iPod, teapot, foot bath           Michael: iPod, teapot, foot bath, old shirt           Pam: old shirt, teapot, iPod, foot bath           Ryan: iPod, old shirt, teapot, foot bath

The following restrictions must apply:

          Each officemate selects a gift that has not been selected previously.           Each officemate selects only one gift.           Each officemate selects the gift that he or she has ranked highest among the           unselected gifts.

1. Which one of the following is a possible matching of officemates with the gifts they select?           a. Jim: foot bath; Michael: old shirt; Pam: iPod; Ryan: teapot           b. Jim: teapot; Michael: iPod; Pam: foot bath; Ryan: old shirt           c. Jim: iPod; Michael: foot bath; Pam: teapot; Ryan: old shirt           d. Jim: old shirt; Michael: foot bath; Pam: iPod; Ryan: teapot           e. Jim: old shirt; Michael: teapot; Pam: iPod; Ryan: foot bath

2. Which one of the following must be true?           a. At most one of the officemates selects the gift he or she ranks first.           b. At most one of the officemates selects the gift he or she ranks second.           c. At least one of the officemates selects the gift he or she ranks first.           d. At least one of the officemates selects the gift he or she ranks second.           e. At least one of the officemates selects the gift he or she ranks third.

3. Which one of the following could be true?           a. Exactly two of the officemates each select the gift he or she ranks third.           b. Exactly two of the officemates each select the gift he or she ranks fourth.           c. Exactly three of the officemates each select the gift he or she ranks second.           d. Exactly three of the officemates each select the gift he or she ranks third.           e. Exactly three of the officemates each select the gift he or she ranks fourth.

4. If Pam selects the foot bath, then which of the following could be true?           a. Exactly two of the employees each select the office he or she ranks second.           b. Exactly two of the employees each select the office he or she ranks third.           c. Exactly three of the employees each select the office he or she ranks first.           d. Jim selects the iPod           e. Michael selects the teapot

5. Which one of the following must be true?           a. Jim does not select the iPod.           b. Michael does not select the foot bath.           c. Michael does not select the teapot.           d. Ryan does not select the iPod.           e. Pam does not select the iPod.

Tips: Yikes, it’s kind of tough to figure out anything in this game … unless you make scenarios. Try making four scenarios based around each of the four officemates getting the first pick. How does Jim getting the first pick (and selecting the old shirt … what a chump) affect the other officemates’ preferences? How does Michael getting the first pick (and shamelessly selecting the iPod) affect the other offciemates’ preferences? And so on and cetera. There are some important deductions to be made there. Additionally, if any officemate has a gift ranked lower than the other officemates, that officemate cannot select that gift. For instance, Michael can’t select the old shirt. Everyone has the old shirt ranked first or second, but Michael has it ranked fourth. If Michael picks early, he’ll pick something else. If Michael picks late, the old shirt will already be selected by someone else. There’s another officemate who cannot select a certain gift … try to figure who that is, and which gift he or she cannot select.

Answer Key:

Reindeer Games 1. a 2. a 3. c 4. b 5. e 6. b

Christmas Movies 1. d 2. c 3. b 4. b 5. c

Made-up Holidays 1. d 2. b 3. e 4. a 5. a 6. c

Yankee Swap 1. c 2. c 3. a 4. e 5. e

Holiday Logic Games! was originally published on LSAT Blog

[whelvenwings]

Under the Mistletoe

read it here on AO3 if you prefer!! Merry happy to all, I hope you enjoy my Christmas fic for this year <3

Summary: Dean and Castiel are locked in deadly combat, a battle that has raged for three years - a prank war that's been their Christmas tradition since their romance catastrophically failed to launch. Since they both work at the same huge grocery store, it's easy for things to get a little out of hand. This Christmas, however, things might not be as simple as covering up a fire they started in the dairy aisle; this year, Castiel is trying to deal with the fact that Christmas doesn't quite feel like Christmas anymore.

Also, Dean decided to wear mistletoe to work.

*********

The phone rang and Castiel, half into and half out of his horrible synthetic work sweater, groaned loudly.

He tried to fight off the blue acrylic nightmare as he searched half-blind for his mobile, knocking over a teetering pile of books and putting his foot through the wrapping on a large, beribboned gift as he stumbled across his room. Shedding the sweater at last, he threw it hard at the wall and located his phone by the light of it coming from under his bed. Of course.

With a huff, he dropped to his knees, grabbed for the phone, and read the name on the screen. Bestest Biggest Bro, it read; behind the letters was a close-up picture of a bent elbow, a contact picture that Castiel certainly hadn’t chosen.

“Gabriel,” he said, injecting his voice with as much happiness as he could as soon as he picked up. It wasn’t a lot. “Everything OK?”

He sat down on the floor, his back up against the side of his bed, phone pressed to his ear - and prepared to be irritated.

“Does something need to be wrong for me to want to call my little brother on Christmas?” Gabriel’s voice sounded tinny and distant on the line, and Castiel squinted as he struggled to understand.

“No,” Castiel said. But you mostly only call me when you need something, these days, he didn’t say.

“Did you like what I set my contact pic as? It’s my -”

“Elbow, Gabriel. I know it’s your elbow.”

Gabriel sighed deeply. “Come on, Cassie. It could have been my butt.”

“I saw you taking the -”

“Cassie. Come on. It’s Christmas. ”

Castiel sighed, heavily.

“It could have been your butt,” he conceded in a flat, weary voice. Gabriel snorted, and Castiel rolled his eyes. “Happy?”

“Sure, I’m happy. I’m sipping a margarita in Malibu. Like, this is the dream.”

“Same dream you’ve been having since you were sixteen, then,” Castiel said dryly, toying with a loose thread on the pair of jeans discarded on his floor nearby. “Don’t you ever want to spend Christmas anywhere else?”

“What, like whatever hellhole it is you’re in?” Gabriel chuckled. “No, thank you so much. I will take two large orders of nuh-uh and a supersize side of nope.”

“Massachusetts isn’t a hellhole,” Castiel pointed out. “It’s beautiful. And -”

“Aaaaand you have the unparalleled opportunity to take instruction from the finest minds in the anglophonic world,” Gabriel reeled off, quickly, bored. “Yeah, yeah, I listen. Occasionally. Don’t get used to it.”

“I won’t,” Castiel said, a little warmth creeping into his voice. Gabriel was an asshole, but he was Castiel’s asshole brother, and he wasn’t that bad. “So, why’d you call?”

“Mostly to make you look at the butt pic.”

Scratch that, Castiel thought, he really is that bad. He pulled the phone away from his ear to quickly check the time on it - late, of course. He rolled to his feet and headed towards the bathroom.

“No, I’m just…” On the phone, Gabriel trailed off, sounding diffident for once.

“Just?”

“Just checking in. Christmas was always your thing. Like, you would actually pull your head out of your books for two seconds and open presents and eat candy canes and, like, actually smile. ”

“I’m still smiling,” Castiel said. He pushed open the door to the bathroom and gave the mirror a wan half-grimace, so that it was true.

“You still love Christmas?”

“I still…” Castiel closed his eyes, and sighed, and poured his best attempt at sincerity into his voice. “Of course I still love Christmas.”

“You sure? Because, you know, if they aren’t treating you right at big-boy school, bigger boy Gabriel can come and get you. This makes three Christmases without you, I’d go the whole works to get you here if you wanted, no expenses spared.” Gabriel put on a dreadful French accent for the last few words, for a reason that Castiel couldn’t fathom. “It’s not too late to send the jet down to you and -”

“No!” Castiel burst out, and then pressed his index finger to his lips for a second, regathering himself. “No, really. It’s fine. I’m fine. I already have lots of - uh - festive things to do. Of course, I’ve planned very hard for this, since it’s my favourite time of year.”

He closed his eyes, crossed his fingers, and hoped.

“... OK,” Gabriel said, sounding convinced, and Castiel breathed out a sigh of relief. “Well, I guess I’ll let you go attend to your Christmas festivities, feasting and gifting et cetera, et cetera, eggnog. Take care of yourself. Oh, you got enough cash to treat yourself to something nice, right?”

“Oh, yes,” Castiel said, trying as hard as he could to sound completely at ease.

“Why do you always talk like a candy cane got lodged somewhere unsavoury? I can send -”

“No, Gabe, I don’t need anything.” Castiel could hear the slight edge to his tone, the potential for it to drift into petulance. He cleared his throat, and tried again, his voice deeper. “I don’t need anything.”

“You sure?”

“I got this,” Castiel confirmed, and rang off.

He looked at himself in the bathroom mirror - half into his work uniform, his hair a mess, bags under his eyes, and an hours-long shift ahead of him. Christmas festivities? Sure.

“I don’t got this,” he confided to himself, and shook his head, and went to look for his sweater.

***

Half an hour’s drive across town, Dean Winchester was humming to himself as he combed his hair.

“... mmmmhmm mmhmmmmmm, singin’ a song, walkin’ in a winter - dammit.” He shook his head as if to dislodge something, and determinedly set his lips closed as he kept combing.

Ten seconds later, he was humming the same song again.

“... mmmmhmm valley we can build a snowman… mmmmhmmm hmm that he is mmmmmhm Brown…”

“HE’LL SAY ARE YOU MARRIED, WE’LL SAY NO, MAN,” burst in a second voice, at the same time as Dean’s bedroom door crashed open. Dean gave a little yelp of fear and thrust out his hand, comb-first, at his carolling assailant - who was tall, and lanky, and grinning all over his face.

“Sam -”

“Oh, God, no,” Sam said, eyeing the comb with mock-fear. “Please, sir, it’s Christmas. I’m too young to get… combed to death.”

“Sam,” Dean said, still aiming the comb right at him, “you got that dumb song in my head, and you just scared the crap out of me. I’m sorry, kid, your days on this Earth are over.” He shook his head sadly, levelled the comb - and then pulled it back sharply as though recoiling from a shot. “PEW.”

“Oh, GOD, NO,” Sam said, clutching his chest. “RIGHT THROUGH THE HEART. OH, THE PAIN. AND ON CHRISTMAS. IS THAT MY LIFE FLASHING BEFORE MY EYES, OR IS IT THE FAIRY LIGHTS REFLECTING OFF THE COLD STEEL OF YOUR BETRAYAL. Oh, Dean… Dean, my favourite brother…” He staggered forwards, and grabbed the hem of Dean’s work shirt. “Dean… you must… make this right…”

“I swear, I won’t rest until the comb that did this is snapped in two,” Dean swore, grasping for his brother’s hand, and shaking it. “I swear.”

“You… asshole…” Sam whispered dramatically, and then collapsed to the floor.

“And… scene, ” Dean said, turning back to his mirror and pushing his comb through his hair one last time. “Beautiful work, really. You made me really believe I’d actually finally got rid of you.”

“As if I’d let it be that easy,” Sam snorted, propping his head on his hand and grinning up at Dean from the floor. “I’m practically indestructible.”

Dean spritzed himself under each arm with his deodorant, and chucked the can at his brother’s head. Sam caught it, inches from his face.

“What was that?” he demanded. “Slowest throw ever. ”

“Worth a try,” Dean countered, tucking his shirt in.

“Do, or do not. There is no try,” Sam said, attempting a creaky Yoda-like voice. Dean couldn’t help a laugh escaping as he checked his hair for roughly the hundredth time that morning.

“Mmmhm lane, snow is glistening… a beautiful sight, we’re - oh, come on. You owe me brain bleach for playing that to me last night.” Sam grinned - but his smile faded as Dean checked his watch and blinked at it.

“So… what time do you think you’ll be back?” Sam said, false-bright.

“Oh, you know, never maybe,” Dean said casually. “Like, I might just leave you to the wolves.”

“Ha, ha,” Sam said. “And actually?”

“Actually… as soon as I can. Should be at ten. Sooner, if I can persuade my favourite coworker to cover for me.”

“Your favourite… oh, ” Sam said, a whole new kind of smirk appearing on his face. “Is Castiel working today?”

“He sure is. As if my Christmas wasn’t already going to be joyful enough,” Dean rolled his eyes.

“I was wondering why you were doing your hair. Oh, is this why you stole some of next door’s mistletoe off their porch last night?”

“I - what?!” Dean demanded, deciding to go with affronted and offended as his best defence. “That’s… that’s ridiculous , Sam. And I am not doing my hair for him . I hate him, you know that. The guy’s an asshole.”

“Uh huh. Sure. Oh, look, there! Out the window!”

“What?” Dean spun around on instinct, peering out past the glass. “What?!”

“It’s flying pigs! I guess Santa must have swapped them for the reindeer this year.” Sam grinned, and Dean reached for his comb.

“Don’t make me shoot you twice in one morning,” he said threateningly.

“I’m already dead, what are you gonna do?”

“Shoot you in the head, zombie boy.” He leaned down and ruffled Sam’s hair as he passed on the way out the door, and Sam fought him off half-heartedly. “Don’t open the door to strangers.”

“Does that include you?”

“Sammy, you should know by now,” Dean called, as he jogged down the stairs, “I’m not stranger. I’m the strangest.”

“Have fun with Castiel!” Sam yelled back. Dean rolled his eyes, hard, and didn’t deign to reply.

***

Castiel walked through the doors of the biggest grocery store in his town, and breathed in the scent of recycled air and plastic. Here he was: home sweet home for the next eleven hours, just as it had been for the last two Christmases in a row.

He headed towards the staff break room, tugging off his scarf as he headed past the customer service desk and the checkouts. He nodded hello’s to Charlie, Jo, and Claire, who waved, grinned, and scowled at him in respective order. They were all standing idle, customers thin on the ground on Christmas Day. And at the end of the line, hands clasped behind his back, stood the figure that Castiel was least keen to see; tall, well-built, irritatingly good-looking and unfathomably annoying, Dean Winchester bounced on his heels and offered Castiel a smug smile in greeting.

“Welcome, Mr Novak,” he said, and nodded his head. Castiel noticed the headgear he had on: a pair of ridiculous antlers, and between them was strung a large amount of -

“Mistletoe?” Castiel said, frowning and coming to a halt near Dean to stare.

“He’s been waiting here for you, wearing it,” Claire said flatly, chewing on some gum and inspecting her nails as she spoke. At the next checkout, Jo sniggered.

“You have?” Castiel said - and the colour rose in his cheeks, and he couldn’t help the way his stomach flipped.

“Sure,” Dean said smoothly. “And may I just say, Mr Novak…” He stepped closer, and put his hand on Castiel’s shoulder; his eyes flicked down to Castiel’s lips and back up. He leaned in slightly, the mistletoe on his antlers dangling between the two of them. Castiel blinked, his heart racing, but didn’t move away; his eyes were tracing over Dean’s face, trying to understand - “May I just say… that this year’s prank war has officially begun.”

Castiel groaned, and shoved Dean away.

Dean fell back a pace, laughing. He shook his antlers, so that the mistletoe danced crazily. “Pranked! See?” he said to Claire, who was watching him stoically and chewing her gum. “See, I told you it was for a prank. And it was a good one.”

Castiel swallowed hard and set his jaw, determined not to show that the prank had thoroughly landed. For a split second there, he’d really thought that Dean had worn the mistletoe to work just so that he could come up to Castiel and have an excuse to - to -

Of course not, though. Castiel chastised himself for being taken in so easily. Meanwhile, Claire was rolling her eyes, and pulling out her phone.

“Come on, it was a good one.” Dean insisted.

“Whatever, old man.”

“She’s too young to understand. She’s just a child,” Dean explained to Castiel, who had been watching him in glowering silence, hoping that he wasn’t blushing and that the pounding of his heart wasn’t somehow perceptible. “But you get it, right, Cas?”

Castiel felt all eyes on him, and opened his mouth. This would have to be good.

“It’s Castiel,” he whipped back. “And no, I don’t ‘get it’. Because for the prank to be a good one, I would have had to actually want you to kiss me. And we all know I’d rather kiss Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer’s rear than you.”

Jo snorted; over at the customer service desk, Charlie sucked in an audible breath; Claire looked up from her phone, and gestured towards Castiel with it while looking at Dean.

“See,” she said, “ that was a pretty good one.”

“Phone away while you’re at work,” Castiel said to her, and then turned to go and put his stuff in the break room.

“He’s so much cooler than you,” he heard Claire say to Dean, and smiled to himself. Imagining the look on Dean’s face hearing that was more than Christmas gift enough.

***

“So, now that my first prank has been successfully completed…” Dean said, leaning one elbow on the top of Charlie’s counter at the customer service desk and wiggling his eyebrows at her.

“First prank?” Charlie asked absently, wiping at the monitor of the computer on her desk with a soft cloth to remove the dust.

“The mistletoe, Charlie, the mistletoe. Keep up with me here,” Dean said impatiently. He shook his head so that the antlers, complete with their garnish of mistletoe, wobbled in Charlie’s direction. Without looking over at him, she reached over and whipped them off.

“The mistletoe?” she said.

“Yeah, you know… I just pranked Cas with it.”

“Oh, right, that was a prank. ” Charlie gave him an exaggerated wink - very exaggerated, her whole face getting in on it.

“What?” Dean demanded, flinching internally at his tone - definitely a little too quick and much too defensive. Come on, he begged himself. Be cool.

“Yeah, it was totally a prank,” Charlie said airily. She began to polish her computer monitor again, flapping the cloth casually. “Totally. And you totally weren’t hoping he’d actually kiss you, and you totally haven’t been mooning over him since forever…”

“Jesus, Charlie. Are we actually having this conversation? Seriously?” Dean tried to interrupt, but Charlie was apparently warming to her theme.

“And when we went out for work drinks two Christmases you two totally didn’t spend the whole time flirting with each other only to be too awkward to ever address it again -”

“Hey, I tried to address it!” Dean cut in, stung - and then realised what he’d admitted, and winced.

“Dean…” Charlie leaned over the counter, too busy looking sorry for him to even celebrate her victory. “I’ve seen you play it so smooth with so many people. Dude, you could charm the hind legs off a donkey.”

“Isn’t it - talk the hind legs off a donkey?”

Charlie shrugged, and grinned. “Either way, there’s ass involved, if you know what I mean. But then Castiel comes along, and suddenly you’re, like… how do I put this nicely… a total idiot?”

“Super nice, Charlie, good job.” Dean gave her a sarcastic smile, which slid off her like water down the back of the proverbial duck - she was eyeing him more solemnly than he’d ever seen her do before, the twinkle in her eye almost completely gone.

“How about this. I know the prank war is part of your little tradition, like, it’s awesome. But what if we cut out the part of the tradition where you never get around to actually telling him how you feel? ‘Cause, like, I don’t run your life, but literally, dude… it’s been three years. I’m dying here. Empires are rising and falling. Apple products are being made and breaking, and being repaired and breaking, and being repaired again and breaking again. I’m getting wrinkles. Like, seriously, I have crows’ feet coming in and I call the crows ‘Dean’ and ‘Castiel’. Just. Tell. Him.”

“I just - I don’t want - it’s not -” Dean attempted to start a few different sentences in quick succession, none of them heading anywhere he wanted to go. He swallowed, and avoided Charlie’s eyes. “I can’t.”

Charlie scoffed. “Yeah, sure, you can’t . Did you forget about the donkey?”

“This isn’t just about…” Dean slashed a hand up through the air, cutting his sentence dead. He didn’t need to talk about how he felt. He just needed to ignore it as hard as he possibly could. That way, he might never get to be with Cas, sure - but he would also never lose all hope of being with Cas. And after three years of angrily and reluctantly falling in love, he wasn’t sure he could handle being that hopeless.

“Dean, you need to talk to him,” Charlie said. “And this is coming from me. I’m, like, the queen of finger guns and not saying things.” She pew pew pew ’d a volley of shots at him, to prove her point. Dean smacked his hand on the counter, and began to back away.

“What I need,” he said, “is for you to do that announcement like you said you would. Come on, didn’t I already pay up?”

Charlie pulled a thoughtful face. “I was expecting something fancier. Like, I’ve seen LARPers with genuine swords, and you gave me…”

“Hey, come on, a miniature catapult is better than nothing! It’s got reinforced elastic and a frame made of mahogany, and the -”

“God. You’re such a nerd. Fine, fine , I’m doing the announcement. Go on.” She grinned at him; Dean smiled back winningly and gave her a return pair of finger guns.

“No violence in the workplace,” said the dry voice of Castiel behind him. Spinning around, Dean repressed his immediate urge to stick out his tongue, and tried to come to a stop in a cool way so that he could put his hand on his hip and have a cool conversation with Castiel where he would provide witticisms and sarcasm and irony, and generally be very aloof and desirable.

He wobbled, half-fell, and - somehow, cruelly, from the pit of his brain - there arose the phrase, “Oopsie-doodle!”

Castiel blinked at him, apparently caught between amusement and confusion, and seemed to decide not to engage. He carried along on his way, arms full of boxes.

Behind him, Charlie said, “How’s that donkey, Dean?”

“Super,” Dean growled, and walked off.

***

Castiel dropped the stack of cardboard boxes in the trash, and dusted off his hands. He made a mental note to send another email to management asking about implementing a recycling policy, and headed back inside.

Oopsie-doodle? his brain said softly to itself, and Castiel did his best to ignore it. Every now and then, Dean stopped being an asshole just long enough to be flustered and sweet, and Castiel hated how much he liked that.

Back on the shop floor, he dodged around a couple of customers as unobtrusively as he could and headed back to aisle seven, where he was planning to stack up the dairy shelves.

“Hey, where’s the sugar?” demanded a big guy in an oversized leather jacket walking down aisle six. Castiel repressed his instinctive response - oh, aren’t you sweet enough? - and calmly gave the man directions. He wasn’t thanked.

“Happy holidays,” Castiel said half-heartedly to the man’s back, and returned his thoughts to the dairy shelves.

“This is a staff announcement,” said Charlie’s voice over the tannoy, crackly and emotionless. “Urgent cleanup on aisle nine, please.”

Castiel stopped, and sighed, and allowed himself a brief moment of internal exasperation before stepping out smartly in the direction of aisle nine. He was sure to be the closest worker, and Charlie would see it on her monitor if he didn’t go sort it out; and he’d made a point, ever since his promotion, to be a store manager who wasn’t too good to do any job.

Unfortunately, that occasionally meant that he had to slop a watery old mop over copious amounts of spilled mayonnaise.

“Study at Harvard!” Castiel muttered under his breath as he rounded the corner to aisle nine. “It’s nothing but glamour, sophistication, and -”

He came to a dead halt.

On the floor, in a pool of red that was slowly seeping larger and larger, was a person.

Castiel heard himself make a noise, deep and wordless and full of horror; he ran the last few steps over to the body, and dropped to his knees in the spreading slick of scarlet liquid, and reached out a hand to place it on the chest of a man -

Seeing the face for the first time, Castiel felt his whole world shudder.

Dean.

“Oh, God, no -” he managed to get out, wretchedly -

And then Dean’s face moved; those green eyes cracked open, and his body convulsed. For a second, Castiel thought that he was having some kind of fit - and then he heard the noise Dean was making.

Laughter. Dean was laughing.

“You - you -” Castiel scuffled away from Dean’s body, grabbing onto the nearest shelf and using it to pull himself upright. His knees felt weak; his world was still churning. He watched Dean, who looked insufferably smug and full of jollity as he pulled himself to his feet.

“Pranked! I can’t believe that worked,” Dean said, through his laughter. “Jesus, Cas, you should’ve seen your face.”

“You - you absolute -” Castiel couldn’t seem to get a grip on himself long enough to find a word bad enough. All he could see in his mind’s eye was the moment he’d seen Dean’s face, completely still and calm and void, pale against the red of the blood.

“Hope you like ketchup,” Dean said, jerking his head towards Castiel’s knees, his laughter finally subsiding.

Castiel looked down, and saw that the ketchup had completely soaked the material; he’d be needing a change of clothes.

I honestly didn’t think anything could make me hate Christmas more than I did this morning, Castiel thought. And I was very, very wrong.

Out loud, he said, “I’m sending you my dry-cleaning bill.”

Dean shrugged. “Sure, man,” he said. “If you want it to never get paid.”

Castiel was about to retort, but he was cut off by a baleful voice coming from further down the aisle. Claire, striding down the shiny floor and chewing her gum, met Castiel’s eyes as she held out a mop.

“Charlie says you’ll be needing this,” she said. “And Dean, she said yours is in the break room. You don’t deserve to have it brought to you.”

“I don’t deserve to clean this up at all!” Castiel protested, finding his voice at last. “This was all him. ”

“ Him has to go and change,” Dean said easily. “I got a little something on my back.” He turned, and Castiel saw that he was dripping with ketchup from head to toe.

“Hurry,” he growled, and Dean grinned at him - damn that smile - before walking away.

Castiel began to mop the floor with a vengeance. Dean Winchester, and his ridiculous Christmas prank war and his stupid plans and his stupid face. Lying dead on the floor. Laughing. Lying dead on the floor. Laughing. Castiel wasn’t even sure why it bothered him so much, the sight of Dean like that, bloody and still. There was a twist in his chest that felt like an echo of someone else’s feeling - as though he’d seen that blood and stillness before, somewhere else. Maybe in another life.

The thought was too grand for the sauces and condiments aisle. He tried to return his focus to the wet slap of the mop onto the floor, desultory and ordinary.

It was only then that he realised Claire was still standing nearby, fiddling with some bottles of ranch whilst keeping half an eye on him.

“What?” Castiel asked, frowning. His shoulders sagged. “Do I have some ketchup on my face?”

“You like him, right?” Claire said baldly, watching the ranch bottles. Castiel went still.

“Who?” he asked, already knowing the answer. Claire flicked her gaze over to him, big blue eyes taking no prisoners.

“So, tell him?” she said, like it was that easy. “What’s the big deal? He’s just, like… a guy.”

Castiel began mopping again, to give his hands something to do. Claire took advantage of the fact that he wasn’t looking at her to turn towards him more fully.

“I can’t like him,” Castiel ground out. “When he’s not being unnecessarily mean, he’s either being stupid or he’s being rude. He’s not - he’s just not -”

“Didn’t he once come into work literally half an hour after clocking off, just because you asked him to cover for you?” Claire said.

Castiel mopped.

“Isn’t this the same guy who puts little old ladies on his arm and walks them personally to the right aisle when they’re lost? The same guy who kept a packet of your favourite cookies out back for you last Christmas so that you still had some even though we sold out?”

Castiel mopped harder.

“He’s not a jerk. He’s just a guy doing a bad impression of one. Trust me,” Claire said, “I know the difference.”

Castiel stood up straight, and met her eyes.

“Why do you care?” he said - but gently. She was only a kid, after all.

“I don’t,” Claire said at once, rattlesnake-fast. “Just… whatever.” She walked away; at the end of the aisle, she turned back. “You know, I make that two pranks to none,” she said. “You’re losing.”

Castiel gripped the handle of his mop, and the smallest of smiles flickered over his features.

“Not for long,” he said quietly.

***

Dean finished changing, and headed back out onto the shop floor. He helped a few customers, restocked a few shelves, attempted and failed to get his mistletoe antlers back from Charlie - she had them hidden behind her desk.

He waited. He knew that there had to be some kind of mischief headed his way. Castiel wouldn’t let a pair of pranks like that go unavenged. Half-nervous, half-eager, Dean kept his eye out for anything unusual. Maybe Castiel would sneak up behind him and blast Africa by Toto, like he’d done two years ago. Or maybe he’d make another box of cupcakes spiked with chili. Or maybe he’d plant another fire alarm in Dean’s pocket, and then deliberately set it off with another fire in aisle thirteen -

That had been pretty wild. The cover-up for that one had been intense; it was amazing what the pair of them could get done when they worked together and didn’t want to lose their jobs.

The point was, whatever was coming Dean’s way - he knew it was going to be good.

But nothing seemed to happen. For a whole hour, he was left alone to work. He stocked shelves, wary of any hidden surprises waiting in the store room or among the produce - but it was all perfectly normal. He moved from the food aisles to the cosmetics aisle to the entertainment section, and gave up checking over his shoulder every few minutes.

Another uninterrupted fifteen minutes passed. This was boring. Dean put down the stack of DVDs he’d been restocking and wended his way up and down a few aisles, trying to walk as aimlessly as he could.

“Castiel is in aisle eighteen,” said Jo, as she passed him.

“I wasn’t -”

“Yeah, yeah, sure.” She kept walking, ignoring his protests. Dean swung his arms out to the sides exasperatedly, and shook his head - and then shrugged, and made his way to aisle eighteen.

After all, if everyone expected him to go and find Castiel, to the point where they weren’t even interested in hearing that he wasn’t trying to find Castiel  - well, in that case, going and finding him would barely be giving them satisfaction. It’d just be doing what they thought he should be doing.

It was a tenuous logic, but Dean didn’t scrutinise it too hard. It was a logic that would win him some more time with Castiel, in which he could possibly make back some cool points after the Oopsie-Doodle Incident.

When Dean rounded the corner to aisle eighteen, however, he found Castiel standing with a huge pile of festive things in his arms, groaning under the weight and obviously trying to figure out how to put the whole lot down. The pile towered above Castiel’s head, glittering and sparkling under the fluorescent strip lighting overhead.

“Cas?!” Dean said, moving forward instinctively with his own arms out, ready to help. Castiel turned, and almost lost his grip on the whole lot. “Hey - no, wait - come here, let me -”

“Take, uh - take this,” Castiel grunted, half-dropping a big, bright red coat into Dean’s arms. “And - and this -” He tipped a big, beribboned box after the coat. “And this -”

“Wait, wait...” Dean looked around for somewhere to drop the coat and the box, but they were standing in one of the furniture aisles and every surface he could see had Christmas decorations or sale signs scattered all over. “Uh…” In a flurry, he swung the big red coat over his shoulders and gripped the box more firmly; Castiel let another one fall, and Dean caught it. The pair of parcels were so big that he couldn’t even fit his arms around them, and they were incredibly heavy; the second box had blue wrapping and a big gold bow.

“What - is - in these?” Dean panted, and only then noticed that Castiel had dropped everything else he’d been holding, letting it fall to the floor like it didn’t even matter. “Wha-”

Slowly, Castiel smiled - and Dean drew in a breath as he realised too late that he’d made a big, big mistake.

Castiel pushed him. Dean lost his balance; the giant parcels he was holding didn’t help - and next thing he knew, his feet were out from under him and he was falling backwards. He braced himself, clenched his eyes shut, gripped the boxes more firmly purely by instinct to keep them safe; and when he landed, safe in the gentle hammock of a deck chair on sale, it took him a moment to crack one eye open and verify that he hadn’t, in fact, actually and ironically met his death a mere hour after faking it.

He seemed to be alive - and he also seemed to be having something forced over the top of his head, and dragged down over his face. He frowned, and tried to struggle against the weight of the huge boxes on his lap.

Snap.

Dean looked up, disoriented, to see Castiel taking a picture with his phone and smiling down at it smugly.

“Uhhhhhh,” he managed. “No - what? Is this…?”

“Pranked,” said Castiel smoothly, airily. He turned his phone around for Dean to see. “It’s a good look on you.”

Dean glared up at the phone screen, peering through the - the thing, whatever it was, on his face - and seeing an image of himself in a big fluffy red coat, holding a couple of presents, wearing a large fake white beard and Santa hat combo along with an expression that was somewhere between dazed and horrified. His mouth was indignantly half-open, his eyebrows were pulled down, and one of his eyes was half-squinting, the other wide open and wild.

Dean only realised that Castiel’s shoulders were shaking with silent laughter because the phone was moving up and down. He leaned out and kicked at Castiel’s shin half-heartedly, trying to look appropriately angry. He refused to see the funny side, here.

“You asshole,” he griped. “Get this - get all this crap off me, you jerk. Come on, help me!”

“You look... “ Castiel managed, and turned the phone around to look at it again himself - and then his little snorts of laughter resumed. Dean had never seen Castiel so at the mercy of his own sense of humour; normally, the guy would barely crack a smile, even at the best of his pranks.

Just the sight of it was enough to make Dean want to laugh, too, but he forced back the urge. Instead, he tried to reach up an arm from behind the overlarge gift boxes and tug off his beard and hat. He managed to succeed in getting it caught over both eyes.

“You look -” Castiel tried again, and then he must have looked up and seen what Dean had done to himself, because he completely lost it; Dean could hear him huffing with laughter, occasionally letting out a snort. It was the quietest, strangest, least dignified laugh that Dean had ever heard, and it was completely infectious. He couldn’t help it; he broke, and let his own laughter escape.

“Let me - let me -” Castiel got out, and Dean felt hands tugging at the beard. “It’s - you’ve got it stuck -”

Their laughter got louder. Dean bent over, and rested his bearded face on one of the presents. “You got me stuck in a Santa beard,” he said, his voice a little higher pitched than usual through the laughter. “You’ve ruined my Christmas!”

“You are Christmas!” Castiel said, pulling behind Dean’s ears.

“No, no, you’re bending my ear, you’re bending my - ow, no, let me do it, take one of these stupid presents -”

“It’s almost -”

“I’m gonna drop it on your foot, you asshole, what did you put in these? How long have you been planning this?”

“Since last Christmas,” Castiel said, “obviously. I smuggled them in through the back. There were supposed to be three, but I accidentally put my foot through one of them this morning. I blame my brother.”

“I blame you. For everything.”

“All’s fair in…” Castiel said, and his voice dropped for a second, and then quickly picked back up. “... war. Prank wars, especially.”

“Am I nearly out?” Dean said, still completely unable to see.

“Just - looped it - yes!” Castiel said triumphantly, freeing Dean from his fluffy white prison and throwing the thing away. It fell to the floor a few yards away, looking like a sad yet festive furry animal.

Dean dropped the heavy parcels to the ground, and they made a noise like falling rubble as they landed. Ignoring this for the moment, Dean held out his hand for Castiel’s phone to see the picture again. Castiel, his eyes bright, showed him the snap - but kept the phone just out of Dean’s reach. He’d learned since last year, then, Dean thought ruefully, remembering how easy it had been to delete a picture of himself doing something that had looked a lot like drinking from a bottle of rum in front of a horrified-looking middle-aged woman with a let-me-speak-to-your-manager haircut.

This picture was almost worse than it had seemed at first glance. Dean didn’t think he’d ever seen himself look so utterly absurd. Castiel was laughing again, nearly-silently, shaking his head.

“Rocks, by the way,” Castiel said. He put his phone away, and offered Dean a hand to help him get up. “There are just rocks in the boxes.”

Dean considered spitting on Castiel’s hand - but instead, he allowed himself to take it.

It was warm, and strong, and Dean’s stomach swooped.

“You asshole,” he managed to say out loud - except the tone was all wrong. He said it like it was a good thing, like he was being affectionate and not irritated. He swallowed and quickly added, “You better delete it. Like, now.” Short, blunt, annoyed. Much better.

“No,” Castiel said frankly. “I’m going to go and show it to everyone.” He smiled - a good Castiel smile, eyes sharp and full of fun, lips pulled into a little smirk. Damn that smile.

“Please?” Dean tried, as Castiel began to walk away.

It didn’t work.

***

“This is a staff announcement,” said a crackly voice over Castiel’s head. “Could Castiel please bring five of our beautiful Golden ‘O’ For Her rings to the customer service desk.”

Castiel sighed, and put his phone away. He’d been looking at the photo again - he couldn’t stop enjoying that ridiculous look on Dean’s face, the way he looked so completely thrown. Cracks in Dean’s cool asshole facade always warmed Castiel’s heart, and this one was a giant fault line of a crack; it was absurd to feel it, and Castiel knew it, but he found it almost painfully endearing that in the photo Dean was so utterly unguarded. He didn’t look especially handsome or charming. He looked natural and silly and full of - full of feelings, full all the way to the top.

Castiel had never felt more in love with him. It was so frustrating.

His mind fell back to those work drinks, two years ago, when they’d spent the whole evening - as Castiel had thought - flirting with each other. They’d swapped numbers; Castiel had hoped that Dean would text first - but he didn’t. He’d eventually sent Dean a text late the next day that said, Hello, Dean. This is Castiel. I listened to some music by the band you recommended and I especially liked ‘Kashmir’.

He’d received, in reply, haha nice.

He hadn’t texted again. That was such a blatant shut-down that even Castiel, famed for missing social cues, couldn’t miss it. The next time they’d had a shift together, Dean had come straight up to him - Castiel’s heart had thudded painfully in his chest with sudden hope - but all Dean had said was, you know, my mom liked my dad because of his appreciation of Led Zep.

Castiel, of course, had said oh, that’s nice. And they’d stared at each other for a few seconds, and then he’d walked away. What was he supposed to say, after his text being thoroughly rejected and then Dean’s opener being all hey, have this fun fact about my family! Tune back in next time for information about my mother and father’s music taste.

And they hadn’t got along, at all, ever since. The best way that Castiel knew how to cover his feelings was to be overly dry and caustic, and Dean seemed to thoroughly enjoy being a total jerk in return. Mostly it worked; it was just at times like these, when Castiel was forcibly reminded that Dean was still very much the sweet, kind, nerdy guy he’d flirted with at work drinks, that it felt thin.

“This is a staff announcement,” said the voice on the tannoy, for a second time. “I repeat: could Castiel please bring five Golden ‘O’ For Her rings to the customer service desk, urgently.”

Castiel snapped back to reality, realising that he’d been standing and staring, spaced out, at the festive candle selection. He headed towards the jewellery section, half-dragging his feet, only bothering to walk smartly when a customer came into view.

The rings were easy to find; Castiel took them up to the service desk. Charlie smiled at him as he dropped them on the counter.

“Thanks!” she said brightly. “Five gold rings, nice.”

Castiel walked away, feeling vaguely suspicious for a reason that he couldn’t put his finger on.

He carried on working for the next fifteen minutes, his eyes peeled for any sign of unusual activity. He’d almost forgotten this, from last year: how it felt to be on high-alert, just waiting for the next prank to fall.

The score so far was one all; he wasn’t counting Dean’s mistletoe antlers as a prank, because it was low investment and low result. If it wasn’t practically a heist, it didn’t get the kudos of a prank during the prank war, and that was final. Also, as Castiel had said before and still agreed with, it would only have been a good prank if Castiel had wanted Dean to kiss him, had raised his hopes and then subverted his expectations. And that, of course, hadn’t happened.

Well, it had, but Dean had no way of knowing that, so…

Castiel sighed.

It was two-one. The mistletoe thing definitely counted.

“This is a staff announcement,” interrupted Charlie’s voice overhead, again. “Could Castiel please bring twelve Kids Do Love ‘Em number 56 dolls to the customer service desk, please.”

Castiel narrowed his eyes.

Charlie was well-known at this point to be an ally of Dean’s in the prank war - she frequently helped him pull off his more intricate capers. However, it was also fairly common, at Christmas, for someone to call ahead and ask for a certain toy or book or DVD set to be kept in reserve until they arrived to pick it up, just to make sure they got it.

Twelve of the same doll, though?

Castiel couldn’t risk not doing his job - he was fairly sure higher management were just waiting for a complaint from a customer or two to come in this Christmas. They had to suspect that some strange things occurred between the aisles on Christmas Day. The fire incident couldn’t have gone completely unnoticed, as invested as Dean and Castiel himself had been in the cover-up.

And so Castiel made his way to the toy section, and picked up twelve of the dolls. He eyed them carefully before picking them up; they seemed completely normal, no trip wires or alarms rigged to go off as soon as he touched them. Number 56 in the range proved to be one of the boyband dolls, who came with his own drum kit and bandana. Castiel picked up twelve of them, stacked them into his arms, and walked them all the way to the front of the store.

“Strange request,” he remarked, as he set them down carefully on the counter in front of Charlie. Her eyes were too carefully solemn as she replied,

“Yeah, man, weird. Who need twelve drummers drumming for their kid? Do they have twelve kids?”

“Wasn’t there a movie about that?” Castiel said. Again, something about the words she’d just said stuck in his mind, but her tone and inflection had been so casual that he was second-guessing himself. Maybe it really was just one of those odd Christmas requests.

“Oh, yeah. The one with Steve… uh… what’s his name.”

Castiel hated himself for answering, “Martin.”

“Wasn’t it Carell?”

“No, he was the one in Evan Almighty.”

“Oh, right. Man, you really have the whole actors in subpar comedy movies thing down pat.” Charlie sounded impressed, in a surprised and vaguely confused kind of way.

“I haven’t seen either of the movies,” Castiel confessed. “I just had to restock shelves with them once too many times.”

Charlie nodded slowly. “Makes a lot more sense,” she said. “Yeah. Anyway, thanks for these.” She patted the dozen doll boxes beside her, and Castiel smiled wryly as he walked away.

It took an embarrassingly long time for him to figure out what was happening.

Charlie managed to ask him for two ornamental china doves, eight cans of Milkmaid, eleven children’s panpipe sets, and nine copies of Women’s Jazzercise (Three New Routines!) without him figuring out what was going on. The penny only dropped when, finally, Charlie asked him to bring a fake stuffed partridge dog toy and a large amount of pears to her customer service desk. He even collected them up without realising; it was only as he dropped them on her desk, a partridge and enough pears to almost be a tree, that he groaned and dropped his head onto his hand.

“Wow,” Dean said, rising up from behind the counter like a genie appearing from a lamp, summoned by Castiel’s exasperation and understanding. “I honestly thought the twelve drummers drumming was going to be too much. This wasn’t even supposed to be one of the big pranks. Dude, you strung it out for…” Dean checked his watch, “... an hour and ten minutes. We actually had to do the partridge in the pear tree.”

“I thought…” Castiel started, and then shook his head. He had no excuse.

“Just… I don’t even think this feels like a victory any more. It feels like taking candy from a baby, pretty much.” Dean picked up one of the pears, tested its firmness, and then bit into it and grinned.

Castiel pulled his phone out, and unlocked it, and silently presented Dean with the picture of himself as a very confused Santa once again. Dean choked on his bite of pear, and Castiel smiled in victory.

“It’s not a prank if we have to go to the hospital,” Dean said, thumping his chest and coughing, a little red in the face. “We made that rule last year. So no trying to choke me out just to win, alright?”

“I just thought you might want to see it again,” Castiel said smoothly. “It had been a while.”

Charlie, who had been sorting papers on her desk and half-watching her monitor, turned to them with an almost-amused little smile - an expression that Castiel caught often on her face when she was looking at him and Dean together. He could never figure out what she was thinking; probably, she was figuring him out as easily as Claire had, seeing how he felt about Dean and pitying him soundly.

“Hey,” she said aloud. “I’m just going to go on my break. Can you guys watch the desk for me? I don’t wanna have to go find someone else. Last time I got Claire to do it, and she somehow screwed up my filing system.”

“She’s just a kid,” Dean said, at the same time as Castiel offered,

“Well, she is very young.”

They met each other’s eyes. Castiel tried to keep his expression all irritated and not at all warm.

“It’ll be for ten minutes, max,” Charlie interjected, when the stare drew out a second too long. Castiel cleared his throat, and Dean nodded.

“Yeah, uh, yeah,” he said gruffly.

“Of course we’ll watch the desk,” Castiel added.

“We’ve got it covered.”

“Covered in papers, from your filing system, left just the way you ordered them,” Castiel said.

“No worries.”

“Not a problem.”

Charlie eyed them both, hard, and leaned down towards the microphone on the far side of her desk. Pressing the button, she spoke into it clearly.

“This is a staff announcement. Would Jo please go to aisle eleven and continue restocking.” Her voice echoed throughout the store. On the monitor, Jo could be seen tidying away her mop and heading for aisle eleven. Castiel, who had been trying to shelve stock there between his strolls up and down the store looking for items from a Christmas carol, gave Charlie a little nod of thanks as she walked out from behind the desk and headed for the break room.

Dean and Castiel took their places behind the desk.

Silence fell.

Dean started doing a little dance, shuffling his weight from one foot to the other, but quickly stopped.

Castiel cleared his throat.

Twice.

Dean let out a long sigh.

Well , thought Castiel dryly, at least this isn’t awkward .

***

Jesus, thought Dean, this is so awkward.

He swung his arms a bit, and then stopped. Castiel didn’t need any more reasons to think he was a total weirdo, after that ridiculous photo from earlier.

“So,” he said, when the silence was too oppressive and he couldn’t take it anymore. “Got any plans for when you get out of here?”

“Just… going back to my dorm,” Castiel said, and to Dean he sounded dissatisfied. “I have an essay due in the new year that I could start on.”

“You’re going to work, on Christmas?” Dean asked incredulously - and then realised what he’d said, and snorted. “I mean… even more?”

Castiel lifted a shoulder. “I enjoy my studies,” he said flatly.

Dean couldn’t believe it. The guy was getting out of work, just to go home and work? Suddenly, it didn’t seem like such a bad thing that whatever was happening between the two of them had never worked out. If Castiel was this much of a workaholic, they wouldn’t exactly be compatible.

“Yeah, but… come on, man,” Dean said aloud. “Christmas is for, like, trees and stuff.”

Raising an eyebrow, Castiel shot Dean a glance.

“Maybe, in that case, I’ll go walk around in a forest.”

Dean huffed. “ Christmas trees. You know what I mean. Like, you’re not supposed to work on Christmas by choice, you know? You’re supposed to celebrate and whatever.��

Castiel shrugged. “Maybe it’s my way of celebrating.”

“Don’t you have family you can go see?”

“My brother is in Malibu. My parents also live in California. I came here to study, even though they didn’t want me to, so they wouldn’t be thrilled to see me even if I could make it back in time.” He offered Dean an askance smile. “Do you think I’d take so many shifts here if I had parents who supported my life and my choices enough to want to see me at Christmas?”

Dean frowned, looking confused. “I thought… don’t you go to Harvard?”

“I do.”

“And your parents… didn’t want you to come?”

“They’re very traditional. They wanted me to take over the family business. An arts degree from Harvard isn’t what they pictured.” The facts came out hard and short, rapid-fired like bullets.

Dean laughed again, a little bitterly.

“Family business… yeah, I know how that goes.”

“And you?” said Castiel, his tone inviting the conversation to continue. “Do you have plans after work?”

“Oh, yeah. My brother’s waiting up for me. We’re probably just gonna play games and eat crappy food and watch some TV specials or something, but it’s something.” Dean smiled to himself, inside, just thinking about it. For him, Christmas had never really been so awesome - just one day much like any other, albeit with a few more lights and sparkly things everywhere - but for Sam, it was important, and that made it important for Dean in its own way. Even the crappy, sugary TV specials didn’t feel so terrible when his brother was beside him.

Castiel nodded. “It’s something,” he agreed, after too long a pause.

“So… you just never been big into the holidays, or… ?” Dean said.

With yet another shrug, Castiel sighed.

“Actually,” he said, “Christmas is my favourite.”

“It is?” Dean asked, surprised. He watched Castiel’s face; watched the movement across it, the flickers of feeling.

“I…” Castiel started, and then looked at Dean. His expression made his next sentence into a confidence, a secret. “Actually, I… hate it.”

Dean blinked.

“You can’t tell anyone!” Castiel added hurriedly. “I - Christmas has always been my favourite time of the year, and it’s - I just - I don’t want that to go away.”

“You stopped liking it?” Dean asked, a little bemused by Castiel’s urgent need to have this be kept on lockdown. What did it matter?

Castiel, however, was quiet. Very obviously, it did matter.

“I’ve always loved Christmas,” he said. “I don’t want that to not be me.”

“Okay,” Dean said, patiently, trying to understand. “So…?”

Castiel shook his head. He seemed to be gathering words together; for a second, he caught Dean’s eyes. He must have seen something in them that was worth talking to, because he started to talk.

“Look at this,” he said, waving his hand up and around at the store. “Look at where we are. This isn’t Christmas. I loved Christmas because everyone was all gathered in the same room, and it was warm, and safe. And we gave each other presents and ate food, and it was so good and so noisy and so messy. And everything just seemed to glow, and this…” Castiel shook his head. “This isn’t Christmas. Not the Christmas I loved. It’s not just that I have to work. I wouldn’t mind, it’s just... even if I went home, it still wouldn’t be Christmas. It’d just be me sitting in a room with people I only know well enough to be sure that they’d judge me if they really knew me.” Castiel raised his hands helplessly. “Maybe part of growing up is losing Christmas. But I don’t want to. I just miss…”

He sighed, and broke off. The words had obviously been pent up for so long that it had almost hurt to let go, like gripping onto a rope for too long and having to uncurl cramping hands with skin too tight. Dean swallowed hard, and said,

“You miss feeling safe with your family.”

Castiel gave him a look that said yes, and hurt.

Dean wasn’t sure what his look was saying back, but his heart was saying I’m sorry, and stop hurting, please, I like you too much for that shit to fly.

For a few moments, they just stood together in silence. Dean, for one, enjoyed the simplicity of the quiet. Eventually, he said,

“You know… I don’t know a whole lot about families that work good. Mine’s - well, let’s just say, we don’t get most of it right. I don’t think I’ve ever had a Christmas like the ones you miss. But I always thought that one day…” he swallowed. “One day, I’d get to have my own family. Start my own traditions, make my own food, do it all just perfect. So… maybe you’ll do that too, one day. You know?” Dean paused, and bit his lip for a second before adding, “Like, maybe it’s not growing up that makes you lose Christmas. Maybe it’s just that Christmas is kind of… hard to catch hold of.”

“It’s like trying to catch smoke,” Castiel said.

“Like trying to catch smoke with your bare hands,” they said together, and then groaned and smiled.

“Remember when that clip was on repeat on every single TV in the entire electric department for six weeks?” Dean said, his tone saturated with fake nostalgia.

“It was the best time of my life,” Castiel said solemnly. “I miss it so much.”

“I haven’t even read Harry Potter.”

They both fell silent again; they’d managed, somehow, though, to bring themselves back to the shallows, and the silence was easier. Castiel turned around and perched himself on Charlie’s desk; Dean tried to watch him without watching, and ended up just staring at him for far too long. Luckily, Castiel was too busy trying not to dislodge Charlie’s filing system to notice.

“ In the valley we can build a - oh, no, come on,” Dean said, half-humming and half-singing the words and then cutting himself off angrily. “Not that song again. Come on. ”

Castiel looked up at him, amused. “I take it you’re not a fan of Christmas songs.”

“Nah, man. I’m into Led Zep and that’s about it.”

And suddenly all the tension was back - because neither of them had mentioned the band since the work drinks, the texts, the silent and confusing crumbling of the momentum they’d slowly been gathering way back then. Dean could see Castiel’s eyes slide away, his cheeks colour a little; for himself, he felt his heart leap and then sink, somehow both at the same time.

Damn that text that he’d sent. “ haha nice ”? It had seemed like a cool, inviting response at the time; looking back, it had been a catastrophe. And Dean had looked back at it, so many times - had wanted to send a follow-up text, or an explanatory text, or just a joke about butts or something, whatever. But whenever he was on the verge of doing it, he remembered saying to Castiel, you know, my mom liked my dad because of his appreciation of Led Zep. And he remembered Castiel brushing him off, utterly and performatively disinterested. Dean had understood: Castiel wasn’t interested in Dean in the way that Dean’s mom had been interested in Dean’s dad. It just wasn’t gonna happen. And that was the end of that.

Or at least, it should have been. Except that Dean’s heart wouldn’t just let it be.

“Hey,” Castiel said, reaching back behind himself on the desk. “Look what I found.” He pulled out Dean’s pair of antlers, still festooned with mistletoe, and waved them wryly in Dean’s direction. “Prank number one.”

Dean snorted. “Right,” he said. And then, because his guard was down, and the mood between them was softer than usual, he said, “I shouldn’t have put the mistletoe on them.”

And - damn it, damn everything - it came out sounding like a secret. Because it was a secret.

Castiel could have said no, you shouldn’t or probably not or hmmm, you’re right , but instead he said, “Why not?”

Dean could hear it in his voice - Castiel knew that Dean was regretting saying those words. He had sensed the heavy weight behind them.

“Uh,” he said intelligently. “Uh - no, just - nothing. I just -” He couldn’t decide whether to brush it off or answer properly, and he was trying to do both at once, and he was making a fool of himself. Again . It had to be moments like this, when he looked like a complete idiot, where any warmer feeling Castiel had for him had to be at its lowest point. If that warm feeling even existed at all.

He looked up, and caught Castiel looking at him with eyes that were soft and kind and fond. His stomach swooped.

“Because,” he said. “It was a bad prank.”

“We’ve definitely done better…” Castiel said, allowing it to pass for truth. “But -”

“It was as much a prank on me as it was on you,” Dean said. He was sailing dangerously close to the wind, here; he could feel the temptation, the sudden intense rush he felt along with fear - the urge to just do the thing that scared him most, get it out the way, get it over with. He wanted to just say even one of the thousand things that had been on his mind for three years. He wanted to say, I shouldn’t have worn the mistletoe to work because of your smile. He wanted to say, I shouldn’t have worn the mistletoe to work because of your eyes. He wanted to say, I shouldn’t have worn the mistletoe to work because of you, your whole you, everything about who you are, you complete ass -

“Dean?” Castiel said. “What does that mean?”

Dean gulped. Three years of saying nothing. Three years of being too scared of pain and hopelessness to allow himself to hope.

If there was a time to hope, Dean thought, wasn’t it supposed to be now? Wasn’t that the whole point of Christmas? Even here, in this big ugly stupid grocery store with its garish lights and its greed and its horrifying banality, even in here, couldn’t it be worth something that it was Christmas?

“I shouldn’t have worn the mistletoe,” Dean said, “because I wanted to - you know - yeah. I kind of hoped we’d somehow just end up doing the - the thing. I’ve wanted to… I - yeah, I pretty much pranked myself.” It was awkward, and too short, and lame, and flustered.

“Dean…” said Castiel; he sounded numb, confused, shocked.

“I - Cas, I’m -”

And Castiel’s hands were suddenly in Dean’s hair, pushing something onto his head.

At the top of Dean’s vision, green leaves and white berries danced. His mouth fell slightly open.

“Mistletoe?” he said, and then looked at Castiel.

“You... didn’t just prank yourself,” Castiel said. He still looked shocked, disbelieving - but as Dean watched his lips lifted into a smile - gentle, understanding, warm, thoughtful, hopeful - damn that smile -

“I didn’t?” Dean said, his voice rough. Castiel was close; he hadn’t moved away.

“You got me, too,” Castiel said. He reached up his hand, and softly, tentatively, cupped Dean’s cheek. It was such a simple touch, so easy. Three years’ wait, and it left Dean’s knees weak. “I wanted to kiss you too.”

They stared at each other. Slowly, Dean felt a smile creep onto his face.

“So… does that mean… you… ?”

“I - like you, yes.” Castiel’s cheeks were pink again. Dean’s heart squeezed.

“I like you, too,” he confided. No flustered half-sentences or syllables. Just a fact.

“Like… ?”

“Like.”

“ Like like?”

“Like, like like like.”

They both snorted a little laugh. Dean couldn’t feel his legs; he was floating, floating in pure happiness.

“We’re so dumb,” he said. “So freaking dumb.”

“We are,” Castiel agreed, matter-of-factly.

“We wasted so much time.”

“I know .”

“Like, what were we thinking?” Dean asked; every word he spoke was giddy and happy and beautiful. He reached out and put his hand just above Castiel’s hip, because Castiel was near and because he could. And Castiel leaned into the touch, swaying even further into Dean’s space. His hand was still warm and steadying on Dean’s cheek. His thumb gently stroked, and the movement was sending sparks down Dean’s back.

“You know,” he said quietly, dryly. “The mistletoe might still be good for another go.”

“You reckon?” Dean said, his grin so wide he thought his face might crack. “It’s got the juice?”

“It’s worth a try, at least, don’t you think?” Castiel said, his eyes flicking down to Dean’s lips and back.

“OK. I’m gonna - I’m gonna try it.” Dean squared his shoulders. “You ready?”

“Hmm. Maybe it hasn’t quite been long enough -”

“I’m gonna do it.”

“OK,” Castiel said. “Do it.”

“I’m gonna - just - do it.”

“I’m ready,” Castiel said.

“I’m just gonna -”

"Yes."

"I'll just..."

"Mmhmm."

"I'm going to -"

"Go on."

"I will, I will."

"Right."

"OK."

"Good."

"Excellent."

“ Dean. ”

And Dean leaned in, close enough for their lips to almost brush.

“May I just say, Mr Novak,” he said, and then said nothing else at all - only pressed forwards, and kissed Castiel, who kissed him soundly back.

[jamesfuckybuckybarnes]

“Who spiked the eggnog?”

Paring - Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count - 1,800 +

Warnings - Awkwardness, terrible flirting, fluff (?), bad writing, mentions of alcohol, mentions of sex, drunk reader, implied smut

Prompt - “Who spiked the eggnog?”

Summary - When Tony is having one of his famous parties, what happens Nat gives the reader some of Thors’ special Asgardian alcohol which leads the reader to confront Bucky about her secret crush.

A/N - This is my submission for @lovelynemesis ‘s ‘Sam’s Rockin’ Around The Christmas Tree Writing Challenge’. This is my first fanfic so I apologize if its choppy or isn’t very coherent, but hopefully, it isn’t too bad. I’m open to any suggestions on how to improve my writing just message me, alternatively, if you have any positive things to say feel free to message me as well! Also if anyone wants a part two I’m down for writing that lmao.

You looked stupid.

Scratch that.

You felt stupid. You actually looked amazing.

“You look fantastic Y/N!” Wanda exclaimed. You looked at yourself in the mirror and couldn’t deny the fact that she was right you, looked absolutely gorgeous, thanks to Nat and Wanda, but it was the absolute opposite attire of what you were used too. They had swapped out the comfortable leggings and sweatshirts you were used to wearing on a daily bases for training, for a tight-fitting, gold, sequined dress, paired with opaque black tights, and black, platform, chunky heels. The whole outfit was something that Nat had pulled out of her closet and forced you to wear, so you felt stupid.

One of the only reasons that you had even allowed them to play dress up with you was because Stark was having his annual Christmas party, which he swears is gonna be a small event this year, but what you’ve learned from the past is that you and Stark have very different ideas of small. This year he said it’s just gonna be the whole team plus a few people who work at the tower, which is code for anyone and every who works at the tower. The main reason you were even attending this party was because there is a chance that you would see Bucky, which is, again, the main reason why you let Nat and Wanda give you a makeover in the first place.

“Guys, I don’t know about this.” You stated hesitantly, “I feel like I’m a bit out of place, what if he thinks I look stupid?” You ask.

“Y/N don’t worry Bucky will love it!” Nat said, “and if he doesn’t, then it's his loss because you look out of this world.”

You look back at yourself in the mirror one last time and can’t help but to agree. If Bucky can’t see that you look absolutely gorgeous, then he doesn’t know what he’s missing. You look at the time on your phone and notice that the party had started about twenty minutes ago.

“I guess its now or never.” You state, as you get up to leave and you grab your bag Nat and Wanda stop you before you can pass through the door.

“What is it?” Natasha gives Wanda a look before reaching into her bag and pulling out a small flask, which she then hand over to you. You take it hesitantly and give her a questioning look.

“It from Thor’s secret stash. I’m getting the feeling that you might need some liquid courage tonight and I know whatever Stark already has down at the party isn’t going to affect you much, so we thought that you would want this instead.” She explained.

You looked at the flask in your hand and contemplated on giving it back to her but then you thought, why the hell not, it’s not every day that you get to enjoy yourself this way.

“Thank you, I will defiantly put this to good use.” You say and tuck the flask safely into your purse.

“Just make sure no one sees you using it and don’t drink too much. You know how strong that stuff is and we don’t need you getting into any trouble tonight.” You nod your head in agreement and with that you all head down to the party.

As soon as the three of you walked in your eyes immediately found Bucky and your breath got caught in your throat. Bucky looked positively exquisite, he was dressed in a pair of black slacks and a white button-down with a dark red velvet jacket, his hair was pulled back into a low bun, as you brought your eyes back up to his you noticed he had his eyes on you as well. You held eye contact for about three seconds before your nerves got the best of you and you looked away.

“With the way, he looks tonight, you’ve got to make your move Y/N before someone else does,” Wanda says before going off to find Vision.

“She’s got a point.” Nat agrees and pats your shoulder, she takes a breath before she continues, “I think you have a really good shot though, he’s practically undressing you with his eyes at the moment.” She says as she walks away, you look back at Bucky and realize that she’s right, but you can talk to him later, right now you needed a drink.

You walked over too the bar and asked the bartender for some eggnog, this had been your favorite holiday drink since you were little, it reminded you of when you would sit around the fireplace on Christmas Eve with your mom and dad and they would allow you too open one of your gifts before the rest from Santa came while you would watch a few classic Christmas movies.

When you got your drink you took a few sips and thought about how you should approach Bucky, because you didn’t want to come off too clingy or needy but you also didn’t want to seem closed off or uninterested, because you were definitely interested. You thought about the flask of Asgardian alcohol, that Nat gave you, that you have in your bag right now, and decided that's probably the best place to start. Keeping in mind what Nat said about not letting anyone seeing you use it, you look around and realized there were too many people for you to discreetly mix into your eggnog so you decided to do it in the bathroom was your safest bet.

Bucky had been staring at you all night, from the moment you walked in you had caught his attention, like you always do when you enter the same room as him, and his eyes had barely left you. You looked like a goddess to him in that dress, not that you didn’t in your regular attire, but something about the way you looked tonight and the way that you held yourself had him head over heels for you, so he had been watching your every move that night, up until you got up and walked into the bathroom.

“Buck, you can’t just keep staring at her. It’s getting a little creepy.” Steve chuckles at his friend. Bucky takes one last look at the door you had disappeared behind for the second time in the last ten minutes before he looks over at Steve.

“I know, I know, but I can’t help it, Steve,, I just see her and I can’t concentrate on anything else” he sighed, he paused for a moment before he continued, “When it comes to Y/N, I never notice anything but her, and she’s all I can think about.” He confesses.

“Dude, you gotta tell her.” Steve says sincerely, “you need to do it before its too late and you regret never telling her when you had the chance.” Bucky hesitated a moment and looked back towards the bathroom door where you were just exiting from noticing that you were heading for the bar again before he answered Steve.

“You’re right,” Bucky sighed, “I might as well do it now too.” He downed the rest of his drink before he went to go join you.

You had defiantly had more of the alcohol than you had intended, which you would regret in the morning, but at this point, you didn’t care because you felt good and you never really let yourself let loose like this. As you exited the bathroom, with your newly mixed drink in hand, you set off to go back and sit at the bar. You had been there less than a minute when you felt someone sit down next to you, and when you looked over you were immediately met with the same beautiful blue eyes you had been in love with since you had met him. You were so shocked and too drunk to realize, that he was there that it took you a moment to notice that he had said something to you.

“Sorry, can you repeat that?” You asked.

“I asked you what you were drinking.” Bucky chuckled, and you swear that was the sweetest sound you had ever heard.

“Oh, it's just eggnog. I drink it a lot around this time of year, it reminds me of when I was a kid.” You

“Can I try it? For as long as I have been alive I had never had the chance or want to actually try it.” He shyly asked.

“Yeah, sure, go ahead.” You said, and without thinking, you handed him the drink. Bucky happily accepted and looked back at you before he took a big gulp and immediately started to cough on the unexpected alcohol in the drink.

“Oh my god, who spiked the eggnog?” He joked as he started to calm down.

“I did.” You admitted, “Nat gave me some of Thors’ special alcohol.” She whispered.

“What? Why would she do that?” He asked, concern laced in his voice.

“She knew I was nervous, so she thought it would help take the edge off.” You said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “It has definitely helped too.” You giggled.

“What was making you nervous? You are one of the most confident women I have ever met.” Bucky admitted.

“You were.” You shyly admitted, you looked down at your drink before you took a deep breath and continued, “I guess it’s not you per say but every time I’m around you I can’t think straight, my knees go weak and my mouth goes dry, and it just makes me nervous that I’m gonna say something that will make me come across as stupid.” You confessed.

“There’s no need to be nervous, doll, it’s just me, and trust me doll you would never look stupid to me,” He said, and you noticed his eyes look down towards your lips before coming back up to look you in the eye, “And if its any consolation I feel the exact same way, it’s actually the reason I came over here, too tell you that I love you, because I do Y/N, I love you,” Bucky confessed, while he was speaking though he was slowly leaning closer to you and before you knew it Bucky’s lips collided with yours, you didn’t even have time to process what he had just confessed to you, and it was everything you could have possibly imagined, his slightly chapped lips moving against your soft ones. You moaned softly at the feeling of his lips on yours, and Bucky quickly realized that he loved the noise and was eager to hear more. After a few more seconds you both pulled away to catch your breath.

“You wanna go finish this upstairs doll?” Bucky breathed out.

“Yes, god yes,” You say a little too eagerly. Bucky takes your hand as you both stand and as he leads you towards the elevator you can’t help but get excited about what’s to come.

[anachef]

What’s New in Hollywood Studios: New Menus, New Merchandise and MORE Construction Updates

It’s been a busy week over in Hollywood Studios! We’ve rounded up all the updates for you — new eats, new merchandise and LOTS of construction.

Hello from Hollywood Studios!

We don’t expect to see these Christmas decorations up much longer! They have been busy in the last few days in the park with lots of new updates, starting with the Skyliner station!

Skyliner Construction Updates

Disney’s Skyliner Gondola System is really making progress and we can’t wait to see this new mode of transportation open in the fall of this year. Noticeable updates this week include some more red elements along the top of the station.

Skyliner Construction

What’s New on Hollywood Studios Sunset Boulevard

Sunshine Day Bar, the seasonal counter service location that replaced Toluca Turkey Legs, Co. and subsequently Sunshine Day Cafe, re-opened this Holiday season with a new name and a festive menu.

Sunshine Day Bar

With the holidays now over, we went to check out the menu updates.

Sunshine Day Bar Menu

Christmas drinks have been swapped out in favor of lighter, fruitier beverages like the Cherry Blossom, with Bacardi Superior Rum and Luxardo Cherry Liqueur with pineapple juice and grenadine.

Cherry Blossom Cocktail

The Southside Fizz is made with Hendrick’s Gin and pure cane sugar.

Southside Fizz Cocktails

The Blackberry Moonshine Lemonade features Old Smoky Blackberry Moonshine.

Blackberry Moonshine Lemonade

Verrines, light parfait style desserts, are officially taking over! Over at Catalina Eddie’s, the Seasonal Eggnog Panna Cotta and Chocolate Mousse have been removed and you’ll now find a new Lemon Cheesecake Verrine.

Catalina Eddie’s Menu

Since Santa’s Meet and Greet is now over, Once Upon a Time has reverted back to a merchandise shop featuring mostly kids’ items with a small emphasis on Beauty and the Beast items.

Once Upon a Time

Once Upon a Time Merchandise

What’s New in Hollywood Studios Echo Lake

Minnie’s Silver Screen Dine is back again at Hollywood and Vine! We first told you about this dinner party when it debuted back in 2016.At this movie-themed character buffet you can meet Mickey, Minnie, Donald, Daisy and Goofy wearing their award season best.

Minnie’s Silver Screen Dine at Hollywood and Vine

Star Wars themed eats are gone from Backlot Express!

Backlot Express Restaurant

We LOVED this fun Star Wars themed menu before. Luckily, the new menu is just as good — and you can still grab a few of your old favorites, just with new names.

Backlot Express Menu

Debuting on the menu is the Chicken and Biscuits — biscuits and chicken tenders topped with country gravy, a spicy strawberry glaze, and bacon crumbles. Read our review to see what we thought of this!

Chicken and Biscuits

The Cuban Sandwich features roasted pulled pork, sliced ham, Swiss cheese, and pickles and mustard. Read our review to see what we thought of this addition!

Cuban Sandwich

The HUGE Peanut Butter Brownie is pretty much everything we would want in a brownie — chocolate, peanut butter, frosting, peanut butter candy — Read our review to see if it lived up to our expectations!

Peanut Butter Brownie

The Key Lime Verrine is made up of layers of light and airy key lime custard and graham crumbs topped off with a dollop of whipped cream and a white chocolate ring  — Read our review to see if we’ll add this Verrine to our must-try list!

Key Lime Verrine

One thing to note, kiddos can still have that BB-8 Souvenir Sipper with their soda!

Backlot Express Menu

While we’ll miss the Star Wars theme, we are looking forward to drinking Blue Milk soon once Star Wars – Galaxy’s Edge opens this fall!

What’s New on Hollywood Studios Hollywood Boulevard

Cupcakes are noticeably missing over at the Trolley Car Cafe.

Trolley Car Cafe Bakery Case

Currently the only cupcake available is the Peanut Butter Crunch Cupcake — but, hey, we’re not complaining; there’s a reason we’ve loved this one for years and featured it in last year’s cupcake challenge!

Chocolate Peanut Butter Crunch Cupcake

What’s New in Hollywood Studios Toy Story Land

Last week, we noticed the Buzz Meet and Greet had changed locations. His Meet and Greet was moved closer to the entrance into Toy Story Land, but this was to avoid the Slinky Dog Dash line during peak crowd days in the parks. Buzz has moved back to his original spot past the entrance sign.

Toy Story Land Buzz Meet and Greet

We also took a peek over the fence in Toy Story Land to see how Star Wars – Galaxy’s Edge is coming along. There’s still plenty of scaffolding up, but things are really starting to come together over there on Batuu.

Galaxy’s Edge Construction

What’s New on Hollywood Studios Grand Avenue

We also got a much better view of this building that’s being constructed adjacent to Tatooine Traders.

Grand Avenue Structure

We had scoped this spot out just last week, but it seems progress steady progress has been made the scrims are down, revealing a green tile roof and a rather simple design.

Grand Avenue Structure

We’re still not sure what this building will be, but we’ll be sure to keep you updated on it’s progress!

What’s New in Hollywood Studios Shops and Stores — New Merchandise

We found the CUTEST new bags in Hollywood Studios this week!

Loungefly Disney Snacks Backpack

The new Loungefly bags and wallets are covered with all of our favorite Disney snacks, including Mickey Pretzels, Mickey Shaped Cookies, the Mickey Ice Cream Bar (coming soon to grocery stores!), and more!

Loungefly Disney Snacks Wallet/Clutch

We’ve also spotted Buzz Lightyear Ears at several merchandise locations around Hollywood Studios. This tribute to everyone’s favorite space ranger features his famous catch phrase emblazoned on the headband —  “To Infinity and beyond!”

Buzz Lightyear Ears

Polka dot prints are in with the new merchandise line — Rock the Dots — celebrating Minnie’s classic dots!

Rock the Dots Merchandise

We spotted ears, spirit jerseys, new loungefly bags and even sparkly sneakers with a big poof on them in this adorable merchandise line.

Rock the Dots Minnie Mouse Ears

Rock the Dots Spirit Jersey

Check these out!!! We need somewhere awesome to wear these!

Rock the Dots Shoes

We found some more Mickey Through the Years items on Sunset Boulevard.

Mickey Through the Years Shirt

We’re loving the items in this line — perfectly retro and vintage-y!

Mickey Through the Years Merch

This bag matches the mug we found last week!

Mickey Through the Years Tote

Mickey Through the Years Tote

Speaking of mugs, how about this tumbler? Its got the same collage art on it as some of the clothes introduced in this line last week.

Mickey Through the Years Tumbler

This t-shirt is really adorable with all of the different Mickeys on it, take a look and see how many you can find!

Mickey Through the Years Shirt

Mickey Through the Years Shirt

And a few more Celebrate Mickey items as well — all to celebrate Mickey’s 90th Birthday!!

Celebrate Mickey Hat

We also spotted a cool new Edna Mode Mug, featuring all of our favorite “Edna-isms“.

Edna Mode Mug

Edna Mode Mug

NO CAPES! Which is your favorite Edna quote?

Edna Mode Mug

Check out these awesome Chewbacca Ears that we can’t wait to wear!

Chewbacca Ears

And be sure to use the Play Disney Park app so you can grab this limited edition Midway Mania Pin after you complete the “Midway Maniac” Challenge in the app.

Limited Edition Midway Maniac Pin

Limited Edition Midway Maniac Pin

We also took a peek at Disney’s new Valentine’s Day Merchandise!

Mickey and Minnie Valentine’s Plush

This line includes adorable Mickey and Minnie plushes and a limited edition Magic Band featuring characters and artwork from the Pixar Short, Lava.

I Lava You MagicBand

  That’s it for our Hollywood Studios news and updates this week! Be sure to follow us so you stay up-to-date on the changes and additions to the parks every week!

What Hollywood Studios news do you find most exciting? Let us know with a comment!

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from the disney food blog http://bit.ly/2Fj4BdL via http://bit.ly/LNvO3e

[dinakaplan]

10 Plant-Powered Recipes for a Festive and Healthy Holiday Season

Keep your festivities light and bright without adding a spare tire around the middle. No matter what you celebrate, these plant-based holiday recipes are not only healthy — they’re also wonderfully delicious!

‘Tis the season of candy canes and cookies. But what if you’re dreaming of holidays that are healthy?

With these recipes, you can spread joy in the form of delicious, health-boosting food.

10 Plant-Based Holiday Recipes That Will Leave You Feeling Merry From the Inside Out

These plant-based holiday recipes won’t make your belly feel like a bowl full of jelly. But they will make you (and your guests) feel jolly.

Hot Cocoa

Oh, the weather outside is frightful! But the fire would be even more delightful with a mug full of Kale Me Kristie’s 3-ingredient hot chocolate.

Latkes

Also known as potato pancakes, latkes are traditionally made with eggs and fried in oil. These oil-free, plant-based latkes from Plants-Rule guarantee you’ll have a healthy and happy Hanukkah.

Eggless Nog

Eggnog without the egg? Call it nog that’s good for your noggin! Emily of Nourishing Matters proves you can still enjoy the classic holiday beverage without the namesake ingredient. So grab your moose mug and treat yourself (and Cousin Eddie) to a glass — or two — of plant-based nog.

“Cheese” Ball

A holiday party isn’t complete without a cheeseball. But dairy isn’t the best choice for your health. Impress your guests with this plant-based Bruschetta “Cheese” Ball from Veggies Don’t Bite.

Gingerbread Cookies

Run, run, run as fast as you can — to make these Gingerbread Cookies from Kristina DeMuth. Not only does this recipe use whole food ingredients, but it’s also naturally sweetened with dates. And you can enjoy knowing the ginger has some stunning health benefits.

Gingerbread Nice Cream

If gingerbread cookies aren’t your thing, check out Feasting on Fruit’s Gingerbread Nice Cream. As the name implies, the ingredients are anything but naughty.

Macaroni and “Cheese”

If mac and cheese is a must-have dish at your holiday gathering, ditch the dairy for this highly nutritious Butternut Squash Mac & “Cheese” from Veggie Inspired.

African Peanut Stew

Looking for the perfect Kwanzaa dish? This One-Pot African Peanut Stew from Making Thyme for Health is sure to be a crowd pleaser. Even if you don’t celebrate the holiday, you’ll love this soul-warming stew!

Fruit & Spice Cookies

Ah, fruitcake! The most feared gift of the holiday season — and for good reasons: It weighs as much as a brick, it can chip your teeth, and no one even knows what the heck is in it. Luckily, these Fruit & Spice Cookies from Katie Mae will restore your faith in fruit-packed holiday treats.

Hoppin’ John

Start the New Year off right with a bowl of Hoppin’ John. This traditional New Year’s Day recipe features black-eyed peas and collard greens. It will bring you good luck and good health!

Tell us in the comments below:

What plant-based holiday recipes do you love?

Read Next:

5 easy food swaps for healthier holiday eating

[Read More ...] https://foodrevolution.org/blog/plant-based-holiday-recipes/

[fashiontrendin-blog]

We Tried the Reverse Holiday Diet

http://fashion-trendin.com/we-tried-the-reverse-holiday-diet/

We Tried the Reverse Holiday Diet

This piece was originally published in December 2015. Can you even freaking believe it? An oldie but a goodie, we wanted to share our joint holiday extravaganza. Honestly, it’s all for you, Seth Cohen.

Amelia is Jewish only when it is convenient. That is, if you call her on Yom Kippur, you can rest assured she is eating a sandwich and reminding you about her baptism. When Purim rolls around, though? She’s the queen of costumes and alcoholic beverage consumption. Eating at a restaurant and the special is tender pork belly? She’s on it! And then as though it never happened, there she is, smearing white fish over her bagel, gossiping about the girls from Bridge club.

But I’ve had it, you know? She’s never even attempted atonement. So this year, at the intersection of our faiths: she put on her Hanukkah hat, I test drove (without a license!) right down St. Nick’s lane. There was only rule, which was that Amelia would write a diet for me and I would write one for her.

Here is what she put together, annotated with my reactions.

1) You’re going to need some sort of tree, or a wreath, or at the very least something to decorate.

I cannot commit to bringing Christ into my home, but I will happily pose with a tree on 1st Street, which is close enough.

Leandra: 1, Christmas: 1, Amelia: dead.

2) You will exclusively play Christmas music, and it has to be playing non-stop.

This was absolutely no problem whatsoever — I listen to the Frank Sinatra and Ella Fitzgerald holiday stations on Pandora almost exclusively, which I mentioned in a post that went live on December 11th. Two for me, Glen Coco. But I hate peppermint.

3) Throw/Attend at least one ugly sweater themed party.

Does claiming ownership over a photo of Beyoncé in the ugliest sweater party sweater count as having completed this task?

4) Drink eggnog

No.

5) Watch: Love Actually, It’s a Wonderful Life, Elf, Home Alone (or please refer to this list)

I watched Home Alone at least six times. Catherine O’Hara has one of the craziest faces I have ever seen on television. It is so underrated that she asks a flight attendant at the airport in Paris if they could help her charter a private plane home to Kevin for Christmas. Also, here’s a fun fact: John Candy improvised that entire scene where he talks about leaving his kid at a funeral home in the polka polka van when they’re getting O’Hara home to Kev. As you can see, I murdered this movie dance floor.

6) Send at least a few Christmas cards.

I did you one better and sent Christmas gifts. Each came with a card, and every single one said the same thing:

Dear Recipient,

Merry Christmas!

Your Jewish friend with a soul made of gelt,

Leandra

And then I attached a phone number for the orthodox Jewish conversion hotline!

7) Bake festive cookies and bring to office

I defer to you, Amelia, to tell the community about the vegan, gluten free cookies that I made for the office. Leave all tales of chipped teeth out — thx.

8) Order/drink a holiday special at Starbucks. Here’s the 2015 lineup:

Caramel Brulée Latte. Chestnut Praline Latte. Christmas Cookie Latte. Eggnog Latte. Gingerbread Latte. Honey And Almond Hot Chocolate. Peppermint Mocha. Toffee Nut Latte.

Leandra and Christmas: 2, Leandra’s waist line: 4777387219.

9) COUNT DOWN THE DAYS UNTIL CHRISTMAS.

No. Why would I count down the days until the end of my favorite Pandora stations? You are a masochist and I won’t engage with your antics.

10) Dress festive (red/green/sparkly).

I defer to this.

And this.

And this!

And here’s an outfit I wore last Sunday night.

Johanna Ortiz polka dot top and pants

And now, for Amelia’s diet.

So I grew up half-Jewish.

The entire world seemed to buy this or at least let me live until I met Leandra Medine about six years ago and she told me this made no sense. Technically, I understood her reasoning. Theoretically, however, I understood mine more. Dad: Jewish. Mom: Catholic. Me: Guilty.

But whatever, it meant I did a little bit of it all: a first communion here, a cousin’s bar mitzvah there, Easter, Passover, Christmas and Hanukkah. I’ve got about 10% of the prayers on both sides memorized and mumble along with the rest, just like how I sing along to the 2nd verse of Brandy and Monica’s “The Boy is Mine.”

When this holiday season rolled around and Leandra and I decided to swap customs, I secretly assumed I’d win. Channukah was only 8 days long — Christmas starts the second Thanksgiving ends so technically, she was already behind.

But that right there was first mistake. Not assuming I’d win, of course, but in spelling Hanukkah. Chanukah. Ḥanukah. חנוכה. I mean how the fuck do you spell this word if Google gives you 8234567 versions?! Watch me explore the variety in my diet below.

Next came Leandra’s insane assignment list that was designed to raise my cholesterol, get me arrested for cocaine consumption and make me broke.

Behold — her instructions, copied & pasted verbatim, in bold, followed by my results and notes:

1) You must consume at least one powdered jelly donut every single day. You must also make sure that powdered residue remains above your top lip for at least 20 minutes post consumption.

Finding traditional powdered “sufganiyah” with strong-enough Yelp reviews in New York City proved more difficult than one might imagine, especially considering that I am lazy and hate walking into stores.

I ended up spending 20 excruciating minutes on the phone with Doughnut Plant to confirm that their Hanukah doughnuts were legit and another 20 excruciating dollars to have them delivered.

They sent me the wrong ones (these were covered in peanuts as opposed to powder) so unfortunately, no Pablo Escobar ‘stache. They were, however, filled with blackberry jelly. I ate both of course and consider this a win.

Also of note: Leandra baked cookies, and they were actually good. Since she’s Jewish, I now consider these Jewish cookies and give myself an extra credit point.

2) Light the Menorah every night starting tonight and recite the prayers. 

Arguably the most important part of this holiday, I only lit the candle once.

And on the 2nd day. However, my excuse is that upon calling my (Jewish) grandmother to wish her a Happy Hanukah, she told me that lighting candles was very dangerous and not to do it ever again.

2a) You should also tell everyone Kendallabra is trying to steal Hannukah’s thunder.

No, Leandra.

3) Give up meditation for a week and instead play dreidl (basically the same thing)

I don’t meditate (can you tell?!?!?!?!? EIieoSIHG OSHOUh!! ! ! ! !) so this was easy to give up. Meanwhile, dreidel — the 10th word in this “diet” with 100 different variations on its spelling — became my new favorite way to make noise in the office.

4) Eat potato pancakes for breakfast, tell people they’re latkes and that eating them sure beats doing homework.

Another culinary fail. The restaurant “ran out.” I was mad but I’m also half-Irish so I know the struggle of a potato famine well.

5) Buy me a gift every night for all eight nights

It’s the thought that counts?

6) Whenever asked how you’re doing this week, you must answer, “Wonderful! I am celebrating the miracle of light!” — and then go into the extensive Biblical narrative wherein the Maccabees light a menorah in the holy temple and the light lasts for eight days. Then interrupt yourself and say that this is just one of the stories we tell ourselves in order to live.

I opted out and wore a menorah hat instead.

6a) Remind people that though Joan Didion is not Jewish, her birthday does overlap with Hanukah this year.

Mostly I just reminded people how Thanksgiving coincided with Hanukah last year and repeatedly brought up Seth Cohen’s creation of Chrismukkah.

7) Learn to say “suvganiyot,” which means jelly donuts in hebrew.

Easy like the Internet.

8) Memorize the lyrics to this song, become a pubescent boy with the vocal talent of an angel on acid.

I remain a post-pubescent woman. However, I also much prefer the Maccabeats:

9) Stop spending US dollars, force vendors to take “gelt” (it’s gold coin chocolate)

Uber loved this!!!

10) Commit an orthodox conversion

Awkward…Christmas is coming soon, so no can do.

But you didn’t think I’d let myself lose, right?

Just like the Maccabees said — it’s a miracle.

Feature illustration by via The Miami Herald/MCT via Getty Images; collages by Krista Anna Lewis and Emily Zirimis.