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wheresmynaya · 4 years ago

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Cupcake Battles Ch. 1 | Brittana

I was inspired by the Brittana fanart circulating based on the Baking AU and as per usual the Discord had me out here binging Cupcake Wars until this happened! Hope this gives you a little smile.

Also available on ff.net (x) ao3 (x) & below the cut!

The doors of the commercial kitchen are thrown open as the most dramatic action music the Foodies Network Channel has to offer begins to play. A well-dressed, guppy-lipped blonde enters the room in slow motion and gives the camera a confident pose before he’s taking off his sunglasses and tossing them off screen.

“What’s up, America!” The man greets excitedly with a point to the camera. “I’m your host Sam Evans and tonight we’re gearing up for an intense cupcake clash. Overseeing this battle are our esteemed judges: Kurt Hummel, owner of the first ever fashion design-inspired patisserie The House of Hummel.”

As the camera pans to Kurt Hummel, he adjusts the gaudy – and most likely stupidly expensive – hippopotamus brooch pinned to the lapel of his Marc Jacobs blazer and gives the camera a prudish smile.

“Hold up,” The beautiful brunette beside him nudges to ask, “Is that a woman’s blazer?”

Kurt lifts his shoulder in disregard, “Fashion has no gender, Santana.”

“Huh,” Santana looks impressed and points back, “I needz me one of those.”

“I know a guy,” Kurt stage whispers before Sam’s voice fills the kitchen again.

“And he is joined by the ever-witty, ever-beautiful-“

“Why didn’t I get those kind of adjectives for my introduction?” Kurt grumbles.

Santana only smiles proudly without breaking eye contact with the camera, “Get like me, Hummel.”

If he were wearing any – which surprisingly he isn’t – Kurt would’ve clutched his pearls at the statement.

“Santana Lopez, owner and founder of the world-renowned bakery Sweets by Snixxx,” Sam says and the camera soon pans back to the judges’ panel where Santana Lopez gives the viewers her signature smirk accompanied by a sexy wink.

“In just a moment,” Sam continues with the camera back on him as he walks down the aisle which separates the four kitchen stations, “Four bakers will compete in the ultimate show down to see who comes out on top so,” He pauses dramatically as the camera whirls around him then zooms straight in for a close. In typical Sam-fashion, he sings the rest of his line to a familiar rhythm all while he karate chops at the air, “Let’s get down to business and meet the teams!”

The screen soon fills with two bright-eyed, young women sitting in front of a pastel pink backdrop. They’re dressed in electric blue baseball tees with their logo Batter Up Cupcakes scrawled across their chests. Their baseball caps are turned backwards and their hair is braided into pigtails and drape down over their shoulders.

They both wave excitedly at the camera before the shorter of the two blows the audience a two-handed kiss while the blonde pumps her fist in the air before it cuts to their introductions.

“I’m Brittany S. Pierce,” Says the tall blonde before she gestures to her side, “And this is my bestie Sugar Motta and we’re the owners of Batter Up Cupcakes in Lima, Ohio which is one of the only unicorn-friendly bakeries in Lima.”

The camera cuts to a cute montage of the two standing outside of their storefront while they alternate doing different poses that showcase their carefree attitude. Brittany can be heard doing a voiceover as the montage continues, “Sugar and I met when I first transferred to the Culinary Institute of America in New York and we’ve pretty much been inseparable ever since.”

We’re back in the studio with Brittany and Sugar sitting in front of the pastel pink backdrop as Sugar adds, “We just work super well together. We have a similar way of looking at things that is really unique but…there are some people out there that don’t get it.” Sugar then lowers her voice to a whisper and says, “Blaine and Tina.”

Brittany nods, “I think they’re jealous.”

“Because they’re lame?” Sugar asks behind a eye roll.

Brittany points to her friend and gives a single nod, “Yeah, that too.”

The screen then fills with another team sitting in front of the pastel pink backdrop. A man with way too much hair product smiles proudly at the camera while the woman next to him gives a wave. They both wear button-up dress shirts and little bowties with cupcakes on them as they go to introduce themselves.

“Hi, I’m Blaine Anderson,” The gel man says politely before wrapping his arm around the woman next to him. She melts into his side as he says, “And this is my lovely partner Tina Cohen-Chang.”

“Business partner…,” Tina corrects before her voice lowers slightly as she looks disappointedly to the side, “Not like a life partner, I’ve tried.”

“Yes, yes you have,” Blaine continues on before it gets any more awkward, “So together we own Baking Dreams Come True in Lima, Ohio.”

Off-screen a voice asks, “Oh, same as our other competitors: Brittany and Sugar of Batter Up Cupcakes?”

Blaine and Tina visibly grit their teeth before Blaine sucks in a deep breath and plasters on a smile, “Yes, one in the same. It’s such a small world, we actually attended the same culinary school too. They were…quite the eccentric pair.”

“It’s true,” Tina adds, “They’re known for coming up with some pretty quirky combinations. We however take a more traditional approach to things, really focus on technique rather than flare.”

Blaine bobbles along to everything Tina says, “That’s correct. They like to claim that they’re the first LGBTQ-friendly bakery in Lima but I’m pretty sure we filed our paperwork before them.”

“They say they’re unicorn-friendly, which doesn’t make any sense. Unicorns aren’t even real. It gives a mixed message,” Tina explains with an air of annoyance.

“It does, but people go there anyway,” Blaine replies with a shrug and his proud smile falters as he adds, “We’ve kind of been rivals for years now. Always trying to one up the other, it’s…awesome.”

Suddenly we’re back on Team Batter Up Cupcakes where Brittany gives a bored look to the camera and says plainly, “Honestly, with a name like that they’re not a threat to us.”

“Baking dreams come true?” Sugar chuckles, “Not today.”

Brittany giggles along with her and they both high five.

The camera is back on Team Baking Dreams Come True and Blaine’s looking like a puppy ready to wet himself with excitement, “We’re just here for fun.”

“It’s that attitude right there, Blaine,” Tina says tiredly before narrowing her eyes at the camera, “We’re here to settle the score once and for all.”

Blaine smiles hesitantly, “We love a little friendly competition.”

Back to Team Batter Up Cupcakes and Sugar is looking directly at the camera with this determined stare as she punches her small fist into her palm, “We’re going to crush them.”

Brittany nods proudly, “Totally.”

“So here’s how the competition’s going to go down,” Sam announces as he walks back to stand in front of the judges panel, “One by one, teams will be eliminated as they are judged by taste, presentation, and in the final round the last two bakers standing will have to bring it all together into one cheer-worthy cupcake display. The winner gets to have their creation as the centerpiece of the Annual Cheerios Breakfast Benefit and walks away with $10,000.”

The camera pans to Team Batter Up Cupcakes and Team Baking Dreams Come True to catch their reactions before panning to the two remaining teams to be announced.

The camera cuts to the third team that will be competing. Another couple dressed in matching flannel shirts is seated in front of the signature pastel pink wall but the camera dramatically adjusts to fit the insane height difference of the couple before anyone starts speaking. A chipper brunette smiles and waves while her dopey counterpart slowly does the same.

“Hi, I’m Rachel Barbara Berry,” The shorter one says with perfect enunciation before resting her hand on the forearm of the man next to her. She cranes her head back to stare up lovingly, “And this is my husband Finn Hudson. You might be wondering why I’ve kept my last name, well-“

Suddenly someone off-screen cuts her off, “No, no one was wondering. Just continue with your backstory, your baking-related backstory.”

Rachel looks a little peeved but waves it off, “Right. Well, I’ve always loved baking and my husband here loves to eat. Before my Broadway dreams were unfortunately-“

“Rachel, please stay on topic.” The voice says again which makes Rachel grumble.

“Fine! Finn and I started a home business called Gold Star Bakery. It’s taking a little while to get off the ground purely because someone keeps eating our clients’ orders-”

“Babe, you have to label it or else I’m just going to think it’s up for grabs.” Finn responds with a frown then looks back to the camera, “She’s a great baker and we’re just looking for our big break. This money will really help out a lot, maybe we can open our own place?”

“You mean that?” Rachel’s suddenly so overcome with emotion that a tear trickles down her face. Suddenly she’s breaking character and looks to someone off screen, “Did you get that? I can cry on command.”

Finn smiles proudly, “She’s great isn’t she?”

The camera cuts to the last team that will be competing and the man and woman smile brightly for the camera. They’re wearing matching purple t-shirts with their logo across the left pocket in blocky letters before they cut to a montage of the team showing off in their area.

“I’m Mercedes Jones,” The woman says and tilts her head to the man next to her, “And this is Artie Abrams and together we run AJs Bake Shop. We have worked together for years at various restaurants before we decided to team up and do our own thing. We’ve been killin’ it in L.A. ever since. ”

“Mhm, that’s right!” Artie nods with a sense of pride, “We’re top dogs where we come from so we thought we might test our skills and see what we can really do.”

“We’re here to win,” Mercedes says as she gives the camera an intimidating stare, “We’re not leaving without that trophy.”

“Wait, I thought it was money?” Artie asks with his brows furrowed.

Mercedes just shrugs, “We’ll take that too.”

Back in the kitchen, Sam stands by the judge’s panel to reveal another judge sitting with Kurt and Santana. A fierce older woman sits among them, dressed in a red and white track suit, and gives the audience a steely gaze.

“Tonight’s special guest judge is Coach Sue Sylvester,” Sam announces grandly, “She is the founder of the Olympic-winning cheerleading team: the Cheerios! Welcome to the battle zone, Coach!”

“Glad to be here,” Sue says slowly without any emotion whatsoever and continues to stare down the competitors, “I can’t wait to see everyone rip each other to shreds.”

Kurt and Santana exchange looks of confusion while Sam tries to reel in his worry and get back to his hosting duties, “So anyway, for tonight’s theme we’re thinking breakfast. For Round One, we would like to see our teams whip up something that encompasses the Sweet and Savory side of a classic American breakfast. Remember bakers, this is a timed challenge.”

The camera pans to the teams’ reactions and everyone looks a mix of surprise and anxious. Everyone, expect for Team Batter Up Cupcakes where we find Brittany looking in deep thought with her finger tapping at her chin while Sugar narrows her eyes and purses her lips, almost angrily.

“Looks like Brittany and Sugar weren’t expecting this one,” Kurt comments lowly to Santana and the two look in their direction as the team continues to stare off.

Santana’s eyes settle on the blonde and for a moment, she forgets she’s on camera as they start to roam. Santana has met many contestants during her time on the show, but none have been as attractive as the blonde baker before her. She’s not sure what it is about the woman, maybe it’s the backwards baseball cap that is alerting her inner lesbian or maybe it’s the baseball tee that’s doing it, but Santana really can’t stop staring.

Brittany is stunning, she thinks, and she begins to tune out the sound of Sam’s horrible impressions as she watches.

“Santana,” Kurt snaps and nudges Santana out of her daydreaming in time to hear Sam announce the start of the first challenge.

“Man your stations, bakers, and let the battle begin!” He says with the wave of his hands as if he were one of those flag girls at race.

Santana rolls her eyes at his antics and looks back to find Kurt staring at her. She scrunches her nose, “What are you looking at?”

“You know,” Kurt says with an all-knowing look and begins to smirk, “I saw you.”

“Please. You saw nothing,” Santana brushes off and tries to keep her eyes roaming the room to watch as the bakers – all the bakers – set off. She tries her hardest to give everyone equal attention, but she can’t help the pull that has her glancing over to Team Batter Up Cupcakes more so than any other team.

“You look nervous,” Sugar notices just after Sam had announced the start of the challenge, “Why do you look nervous? We don’t do nervous.”

“I’m not nervous!” Brittany says defensively before relenting with a sigh, “You know how I feel about breakfast, Sug. It’s impossible to understand.”

“I know, remember that one time you got into that argument with the waiter about eggs benedict?” Sugar frowns and Brittany lets out another defeated sigh.

“He was wrong then and he’s still wrong now,” Brittany huffs.

“Obviously,” Sugar agrees then perks up, “But the challenge is sweet and savory so there’s no way we can mix this up again. We can do this.”

Brittany’s worry is replaced with a determined smile, “You’re right and I think I’ve got the perfect mashup idea.”

Sugar claps her hands excitedly as they began to brainstorm.

Unbeknownst to Team Batter Up Cupcakes, every other team has decided to make two different cupcakes which will showcase a sweet and savory aspect individually.

The judges have taken notice of that which makes it even harder for Santana to keep her eyes off of Team Batter Up Cupcakes. They speak amongst themselves about the team’s decision and wonder if they just haven’t started on a second cupcake yet or if they’re really going with just one offering.

“Dear God, what is going on at Team Gold Star Bakery’s station?” Sue frowns when a bellow of black smoke emits from the oven.

Kurt looks in horror as Finn pulls out the crisp cupcakes.

Santana smirks at the sight, “Yeah, those are gonna be dry as hell.”

“Why is the oven set to 500 degrees?” Rachel practically yells while Finn throws away the ruined cupcakes.

“Don’t look at me, I didn’t even know oven temperatures when up that high!” Finn argues but Rachel just shakes her head.

“Trouble in paradise?” Mercedes calls over with a chuckle. She and Artie are quietly working away in their own station but tune into the sound of some juicy gossip.

“No!” Rachel frowns at her and looks to Finn, “We need to start over or else we’re not going to have anything for the judges. Time is running out!”

“Okay okay, we’re fine. We just need to get our heads in the game!” Finn looks more determined than ever but then his face falls when he sees the judges stand. He spins around so fast that he nearly knocks Rachel over, “Crap, they’re getting up to make their rounds.”

“Already?! They’re going to think we aren’t prepared!”

“Well…I mean we aren’t,” Finn says plainly.

“Finn!” Rachel chastises and begins rushing through another batter.

“Alright judges, here’s our first team: Blaine and Tina of Baking Dreams Come True!” Sam introduces as the three judges approach their station. Blaine and Tina smile politely and greet them all as they continue to move around each other.

“Wow, what an…interesting name,” Santana comments, losing the battle of hiding her judgement. Not that she ever actually tries to, that’s kind of what makes her a fan favorite.

“So take us through what you are working on,” Kurt says after shooting Santana a glare.

Blaine goes on to explain the complex flavor pairings they will be using which Santana points out isn’t actually all that complex. Tina’s working on some intricate detailing while Blaine pipes frosting, but they both stop to stare at each other with dropped jaws.

“I’m just not seeing any wow factor,” Santana shrugs.

“Well, don’t count us out just yet,” Blaine counters which causes Santana to raise a brow. It’s rare that any contestant ever talks back to her. “Tina’s fondant work is really out of this world.”

“Sugar’s better!” Brittany calls out from across the aisle where she’s busy hand-whipping something. She sends a smirk their way – which of course Santana doesn’t miss – and adds, “She has beaten you in every competition ever.”

“You suck so much, Tina!” Sugar chimes in as well from behind Brittany.

Sue cracks a hint of a devilish smile, “Love a bit of trash talk.”

Santana would have to agree, “It’s something we don’t see here too often. I think we’re in for an interesting battle.” Then she looks to the team again, “Good luck.”

Blaine and Tina just stew in their annoyance as the rest of the judges bid them good luck and travel across the way to Team Batter Up Cupcakes.

“The second team competing today is Brittany and Sugar of Batter Up Cupcakes,” Sam announces for the judges. Sugar gives a wave of her fingers and flashes a bright smile, while Brittany literally does a double-take when she finds Santana smiling at her.

She has seen the show on tv before and she of course is aware of Santana’s prestigious backstory – and sure she might have a tiny crush on the star too – but she wasn’t quite prepared for the unabashed beauty she was going to be smacked with upon seeing Santana in person.

Miraculously, Brittany manages to give her a confident smile despite the flips happening in her belly. She says without a trace of nervousness, “Hey, I’m Brittany. That’s Sugar.”

“So I’ve heard,” Santana replies coolly through a smirk with her deep brown eyes twinkling.

“What’s the tea between you and the other team?” Kurt asks, giving Santana a slight nudge back into professionalism.

“We’ve always been rivals; grew up in the same small town, attended the same culinary school, even started bakeries in our local area. We’re just better than them and they can’t come to admit that yet,” Brittany says it like it is, “Hopefully they’ll finally take the hint when we win.”

Santana laughs at that, “I like your confidence, Brittany.”

“Of course you do,” Brittany says without thinking and it surprises both Kurt and Santana but she rolls with it anyway, “Going back to Bland and Tacky over there, isn’t their lame bakery name a mouthful?”

“Wanky,” Santana smirks and Kurt swats at her arm. If he had a spray bottle on him, that comment would’ve earned her a spritz.

Brittany – on the other hand – just smiled back before continuing with her work, her tone arms flexing as she whisked vigorously.

Santana licks her lips at the sight, her eyes dipping down to the bowl in Brittany’s hands then back up, “Tell us what you’re working on.”

Brittany wonders if she’s imagining things or if she really just saw Santana Lopez eye her up and down like she was a fresh glazed donut hot out off the belt. No matter, she takes a breath and goes to explain, “So we’re doing something with maple bacon for that sweet and salty factor and it’ll add a little crunch. Sugar’s working on a white truffle frosting and this is the start of a jalapeno-infused pancake cupcake for a bit of spice.”

“You’re putting all of that in one cupcake?” Kurt asks, wide-eyed. He looks a little nervous and it makes Santana snort while Sue is equally intrigued.

Brittany and Sugar shrug nonchalantly, “Totally.”

Kurt looks to Santana somewhat worried but Santana’s looking at the team with interest. It’s an odd combination, but she can see what they’re aiming for and it’s pretty out of the box. With competitions like this, contestants usually stick to the basics so she has a little soft spot for those who like to take risks.

She also has a soft spot for smokin’ hot blondes.

“I think it sounds interesting,” Santana says with a smile, “I can’t wait to taste.”

Blue eyes darken with the way the last word rolls off of Santana’s tongue. It gives Brittany this boost of confidence because Santana is known for being a pretty hard judge to please yet here she is handing out compliments.

“You won’t be disappointed,” Brittany tells her earnestly.

Santana chuckles and it comes off as the best combination of sexy and cute, “We’ll see. Good luck.”

As the judges move on to the next station, Brittany’s eyes linger on the sway of Santana’s hips as she goes. That dress she’s in does amazing things for the woman’s slim figure. It’s hypnotic and she probably would’ve overwhipped if Sugar didn’t break the staring contest she had going on.

“Britt!” Sugar gasps and swats at Brittany’s arm, “She was so flirting with you. Santana Lopez, flirting with you!”

“Why did you say it like that? Like you couldn’t believe it?” Brittany pouts playfully then laughs Sugar off, “She wasn’t flirting with me. It’s just her character, it’s all for show. I’m sure she’s like that with everyone.”

“Yeah bullshit,” Sugar scoffs and goes back to frosting, “She didn’t even acknowledge me and I was standing right next to you!”

“Well maybe you should step your game up then,” Brittany quips as she knocks her shoulder teasingly into Sugar’s before she heads over to pull out the cupcakes to cool.

“I don’t think it’s my game she’s interested in,” Sugar counters.

“Alright bakers-“ Suddenly Sam is slipping on his shades again and doing a terrible Justin Timberlake impression, “You’ve only got 4 minutes, 4 minutes!”

“He should be fired,” Santana scrunches her nose.

Kurt shrugs, “The viewers like him.”

“Shh, Madonna is iconic,” Sue hushes them both as she watches Sam continue to sing and dance.

Brittany’s somewhat nervous as she and Sugar approach the panel with their finished cupcake.

They’ve been watching the two other teams before them – Team Baking Dreams Come True and Team AJs Bakeshop – get judged when they realized they might have a bit of competition here. As per usual, Santana has found flaws in each other their cupcakes though and it doesn’t seem like anyone’s pleased her yet but Brittany has faith that she might be able to change that.

In more ways than one as Sugar not so discreetly put it.

“Did you forget one?” Sue asks as a single cupcake is presented.

“No. We decided to do something a little different, it’s something we’re kind of known for,” Brittany explains as the final plate is given to Santana who sits the furthest away from her. “Instead of creating two separate cupcakes, we thought we could combine those flavors into the ultimate sweet and savory breakfast-inspired mashup. This is our take on a classic – although, I’m not exactly sure what counts as a classic since America is a melting pot of cultures and breakfast looks different for everyone – “ Brittany pauses to wonder while Kurt and Sue stare back in confusion.

Santana is the only one that seems to understand her point of view.

Sugar interrupts Brittany’s wondering to and finishes her previous train of thought, “We hope you enjoy!”

Then Sugar goes to explain their thought process and the flavors used while the judges dig in.

Brittany has shifted to being too preoccupied with the way Santana licks frosting off of her fork to offer Sugar any assistance. It’s quiet and they wait anxiously for someone to speak. They took a huge risk by only presenting one cupcake, but their flavors are there and they’re really the only ones that tried something different so that should count for something.

“I’m actually really enjoying this,” Kurt says, “I had my doubts, but you’ve perfected the balance between sweet and savory. My only complaint is the cake itself might’ve been a little too spicy for me.”

“Really?” Santana looks surprised, borderline offended.

“What? I’m not use to having jalapenos for breakfast, Santana.”

“Yeah and it shows,” Santana says with a roll of her eyes before looking directly at Brittany. Her annoyance is suddenly replaced with delight, “Color me, impressed. Aside from Kurt’s ridiculous compliant about spice, I agree with everything he said. You’ve knocked the ball out of the park for me. I really admire the risk you took by focusing on combining the sweet and savory aspect into one cupcake instead of keeping them separate. Sheer genius.”

“Wow,” Sam says and suddenly the camera is on him again, “Such high praise on the first round, the other teams need to watch out for Team Batter Up Cupcakes.”

Sue goes on to say her comments too, but Brittany doesn’t hear them. She’s too captivated by the fact that she was able to impress the Santana Lopez, the Queen of High Expectations. She feels really, really good now.

“Thank you ladies,” Sam then waves his hand to their station, “Please return to your station. Team Gold Star Bakery, you’re up!”

While the last team goes up for judgement, Sugar and Brittany try to contain their excitement after getting such great feedback on their cupcake.

“We rocked it, Britt!” Sugar cheeses then waggles her brows, “And did you see how Santana was eyeing you up there? She was practically undressing you with her eyes.”

“She was not,” Brittany laugh dismissively.

“She totally was, I’m telling you! She’s into you,” Sugar assures her, “Look, she’s staring at you right now!”

Brittany spins to look and sure enough she finds Santana smiling at her with that same cocky grin from before.

Brittany rolls with it and gives Santana a wink before turning to Sugar, “That’s nothing. She’s just being nice.”

“If being nice means she wants a piece of you then, yeah! She’s being really nice.”

Brittany can only laugh at her friend’s comments, she’s been known to try and set her up with randoms. She wouldn’t actually be too upset though if Sugar ended up being right about Santana though, but she’s not giving into that just yet. Once Sugar is on a roll, she’s a little hard to reel back in.

“She’s super hot and successful which is the perfect combination for my dream girl,” Brittany starts, “But I don’t think anything will happen. We’re too different.”

“Seriously? You guys would be the perfect mashup!” Sugar lets out a heavy sigh but decides to drop it for now and focuses back on the excellent praise they received. “Knocked the ball out of the park,” Sugar mimics Santana’s earlier words, “That’s amazing.”

Brittany’s back to smiling proudly, “We didn’t even have to get to any of the bases first,” Then she starts to pout, “I was kind of looking forward to that..”

“Okay, you can’t get on me for thinking that you guys would be cute together then say something like that,” Sugar groans, “Let me be your wing-woman!”

Brittany shakes her head and smirks, “We crushed the first round, huh?”

“Yeah, we did!” Sugar beams and while the cameras were busy on the judges’ panel, she sticks up her middle fingers and flips off Blaine and Tina, “Suck it, losers!”

“Oh my God,” Tina frowns as Brittany joined in on it too. She’s looking completely offended as she pulls Blaine from watching Finn and Rachel. He’s confused but looks to wherever she is pointing.

“Awh, come on guys!” Blaine sighs upon seeing them, “Don’t be like that. We’re just here to have fun.”

“Spoken like a true loser,” Brittany calls over and sticks her tongue out at them while Sugar forms an L with her fingers and lifts it to her forehead.

Blaine just shakes his head at them and forces Tina to look elsewhere, “Don’t mind them, T. They’re just trying to get into our heads like always. We’ll get them in Round 2.”

“Okay. So after some deliberation the judges have come to a decision,” Sam starts and the music suddenly turns ominous as he deeps his voice, “The winner…of Round 1…goes to…”

Brittany and Sugar are hanging on to each other’s hands, their knuckles going white with how tightly they’re holding on. Brittany’s stomach is full of cartwheels and fluttery butterflies as Sam takes an excessive amount of dramatic pauses.

“Brittany and Sugar of Team Batter Up Cupcakes!”

Brittany’s jaw drops at the sound of their names being called before they’re bouncing up and down excitedly in each other’s arms while Sam continues to speak.

“Although you are the only team who presented a single cupcake for this challenge, you were able to balance the flavors of sweet and savory so well that the decision was unanimous.”

Santana watches on with a proud smile as she and the rest of the judges clap for them.

“Congratulations ladies,” Sam says then the ominous music is back, “There is one team that won’t be so lucky and that team…will be…Rachel and Finn of Team Gold Star Bakery. Your fight is over at Cupcake Battles.”

“No!” Rachel cries out dramatically and falls to her knees like she’s been shot.

Unfortunately that means she’s out of the camera’s view, but she must realize that as she squirms out from behind the station, sliding along the floor like a worm until she’s back in view and continues to cry out right on the floor.

Finn looks like he doesn’t know what to do with himself but he gives the camera this gassy-baby impression before he’s trying to pick Rachel up off the floor, “Come on Rach, we’re better than this.”

“I can’t go on! The failure is too great,” Rachel says dramatically, “Just leave me here…”

Santana watches the scene with her jaw dropped slightly. Never in the history of the show has anyone reacted like that after being kicked off.

“I-I just want to know why…” Rachel asks through her tears as Finn finally brings her to her feet.

“Yeah, we were trying to get to that before the – uh – theatrics started,” Santana quips.

Santana’s words spur another outburst of cries from Rachel.

Kurt tries a more sensitive approach and looks to Rachel and Finn apologetically, “You both are so passionate and we…really appreciate that but execution is really important when you’re up against such talented bakers and you…just fell short.”

“That’s short person discrimination!” Rachel says suddenly and this time Santana can’t help but laugh out.

“What in the hell?” Santana whispers to Kurt, “Where did they find her?”

Kurt just shrugs as Rachel continues to rant. Santana’s had enough though and swiftly cuts them off.

“Alright, listen…Rachel, Finn, your cupcakes sucked,” Santana now had her infamous glare zoned in on them as she spoke, “They were overcooked, the frosting was way too sweet, the cake itself lacked depth, not to mention the fact that they didn’t rise at all yet you still put it on the plate and tried to pass it off as pancakes like we wouldn’t notice…would you like me to continue?”

Rachel stammered while Finn just looked down in embarrassment.

“Ah-ah, that was a rhetorical question. I don’t actually want to hear anything else you have to say, you’ve wasted enough time as it is,” Santana says and crossed her arms across her chest.

“Now get the hell out of my kitchen!” Sue chimes in.

Kurt and Santana exchange a look before Santana is speaking up again.

“Uhh, your kitchen?” Santana challenges. Thankfully, Kurt is sitting between them and is already trying to get her to sit back in her seat. “You’re here for like what? Five seconds? And you think this is your kitchen? Please, you’re just a guest here. This is our house, we invited you.”

“Okay!” Kurt claps overly-excitedly, trying to break the tension, “Sam? Back to you.”

Sue just rolls her eyes as Sam dismisses the Rachel and Finn.

Brittany was oddly turned on as she watched that whole thing unfold. Seeing Santana give it to someone straight like that was glorious in person and she looked so hot doing it, but it also assured her that she never wanted Santana to have that kind of reaction to anything they put up.

Now, that would be a disaster. But they were off to a good start and the just needed to keep that momentum going for the next round.

“With our first challenge done and dusted and our first round of winners and eliminations out of the way, we’re on to the next challenge!” Sam announces he looks to each team and asks, “You ready, bakers?”

Everyone yells out an enthusiastic yes!

“Awesome!” Sam cheers then turns back to the camera, “Stay tuned for more Cupcake Battles, Round 2 is sure to leave you in high spirits.”

#Cupcake Battles #Brittana #Brittana fanfiction #fanfics #Baking AU

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zonewaves · 6 years ago

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May Death Never Stop You

B̸͙̰̽a̴̝̠̍̀ḏ̵̳̓͝ ̴͔̇̌n̴͇̉ẽ̵̱̮w̶̧̭̽͝ś̶͖̜̾ ̵̧̱̉f̵͍̋r̷̟̍͌ò̸̡ḿ̴͈ ̷̤̺̋̎t̷̺̚h̴̰̎͛e̷̲̓ ̵̤̿z̴̗͌o̵͎͚̾ň̶̤͚ę̶̼̔̓s̷̨̖̐,̸̡͇̈͂ ̸̰̆t̵̳͔͌ȗ̶̱̙͝m̴̧̹̓ḅ̷͗l̶̦̳̾e̴̡̓ẇ̷̮e̴͚͖͌͑e̶̙̼̐̚d̷͕͙̚s̷̨̛̟ ̷I̴t̶ ̴l̵o̴o̴k̵s̵ ̸l̴i̷k̴e̸ ̸J̵e̴t̵-̷S̵t̸a̸r̴ ̴a̵n̵d̴ ̷t̸t̶̲͛h̶͜͝è̵̳͠ ̸̜͖͋K̶̫͒o̴͔̿̕ḇ̶̘͂ř̴͍͝a̵̱͌͗ ̶̭̀̚K̶͔̀͆i̸͈̥̕d̸̩͒̄ H̸a̶d̵ ̶a̵ ̷c̷l̸a̸p̸ ̷w̷i̸t̸h̵ ̶a̵n̶ ̵e̴x̶t̸e̷r̵m̵i̴n̵a̷t̵o̶r̶ ̷t̵h̶a̴t̴ ̷w̷e̵n̷t̶ à̵̧̚l̴̨̪̓l̷̏̿͜ ̸̲̭̇̎C̸̟̪͂͘o̶̱͉̓͂s̷͎͝t̷͙̮̀̇ã̶̗̑ ̴̫̀R̴͓̪̈̓i̴͉̋͆c̷̤͙̔͝a̵̝͑͂ ̴A̴n̴d̵ ̷u̶h̴,̶ ̴g̶o̸t̵ ̴t̸̷̸̟͔͒̽̈́h̸̶̶̬͍̓̓̆̔ȩ̵̶̶̩̙͐̇m̷̵̷̨͔̌̍͐ş̷̴̵͕̐̑e̶̷̵̟̲͎̿̆̽̽l̶̸̴̪͔̍̈́̐͊v̸̷̴̨̻̊̈́͠e̷̷̶͍̣̩̳̿͋s̵̵̸̘͉̈́͊̊ ̸g̵h̸o̷s̶t̷e̵d̷,̵ ̴d̵u̶s̷t̶e̸d̶ ̵o̵u̵t̸ ̴o̵n̷ ̴R̶̟̫̽͒o̷u̶t̵e̶ ̵G̶u̸a̸n̴o̸ ̶S̴o̵ ̵i̶t̴'̷s̴ ̶t̶i̷m̷e̸ ̶t̶o̷ ̵h̵i̴t̶ ̶t̶h̷e̸ ̴r̷e̶d̵-̴l̶i̷n̸e̷ ̴a̶n̴d̵ ̸u̷p̴t̶h̶r̶u̷s̵t̸ ̴t̴h̴e̸ ̶v̵o̷l̵u̵m̷e̴ ̸o̴u̶t̷ ̸t̸h̷e̷r̷e̷ Ḳ̶̨̡̺͍̮̘͔̪̰͗̈̀̈́͛́͗́̀̎͊̔e̶̛̗̿̌́͊͌͌̈͘̕ễ̴̛̙̪̩͍̄͑̆̀́̋͘͝p̷̡̘̗̳͍̯͎̤͖̣͕̈́̅ ̶y̷o̵u̸r̶ ̴b̵o̷o̶t̶s̶ ̴t̴i̶g̷h̸t̷,̴ķ̵̧̡̛̛̻̠̥̪͙̦̠̭̆̋́͒e̴̺̣͙͖̳̥̲͓̓̆̀͊̂̓̓̎̚͝ͅe̴̗̙̫͎̗͓͂̈́̉̌̀͘͘p̶͇̫̣̗̺͎̹͎̯̲̉́̈́̎̿̎̑͆͑̉͑͜ ̸̩̠͓͎̦͉͎̖̍̚͝͝ͅÿ̴̪̹͓̝̻̜̏̉̈̀̃̊́͒͝͝ó̵̱̯͕̙̫ų̸͙̯͚̘͎̙̭̮̫̥̮̍̀̎̂̒̓̓̓͛̕͝͝ŗ̴͔̣̯̺͈̺͈͖̲̒̏̈́͛͠͝ ̴̮̬̹̼͛̏͊̅̏̄g̸͉̤̬̬̑́̇͛̓ͅu̶͇̺̗̱̣͔͖̦̭̬̤͗̆n̷̡̘͇̘̬͕̿̈̍̽̅̈́̒͆͌s̷̲̏̈͆̾͌̆ ̴̨̗͈̼̰̣̦͖̯̗̹̠͐̄͗ç̴̢̛̩̼̤̤̍̀̂̊̂́͗͝͝l̷͔̳̍̐̈́́́̚͜͝͝͝ŏ̷̦͛͝š̵̡̙̰̆͋̅̊̅̄́̈́̊͝ẻ̸̬̪̺̑̉ ̵A̶n̴d̵ ̷d̷i̵e̵ ̶w̵i̷t̵h̵ ̷y̸o̴u̴r̶ ̷m̷a̵s̶k̵ ̸o̷n̴ ̸i̸f̵ ̶y̸o̵u̵'̸v̸e̵ ̵g̵o̶t̷ ̷t̸o̸ ̵H̶e̴r̶e̷ ̵i̴s̶ ̶t̷h̶e̶ ̴t̵̢̨͎̻͖̖̦̻̞̹̫͂̅ͅȑ̵̢̨̻̋́̉a̶̢̭̱̖̹̠̩̟̣̐̈́̇̕f̴̘̯̻͕͆̈́͛̏f̴̧̡̤̦̯̜̼͕̟̣̐̽̓̇̐̈́̈́̎̚̕͝ͅͅī̵̞̃͊̐̀́͝c̴̖͙̀̀̆̑̓͑̾ ̶

Kobra Kid smirked, looking at his weary companion who had the opposite expression. Goosebumps were shooting up and down Jet Star's body, night cold and clammy. Hearing the deaths of his friend and his scare the highlights out of him.

"D'you really think they'd think that?" Kobra mischievously questioned as if wanting it to be as true as desert swirlies. Jet took off his glasses and pulled a bandana from his pocket, wiping grimy sweat off his face.

He started to think.

Dr. Death Defying was a close friend of his—nay, Kobra's. He wouldn't seem to be the type to be that cool delivering that kinda hot stuff. Even so, the Four agreed that if one of them dies, they be keepin' it a secret to continue propaganda against BLi. The Four (or two of the Four) wouldn't allow this odd obituary to hit the airs. Right, he nodded to himself in reassurance and put on his glasses.

He must be right, he thought.

"It's to keep the 'Crows and Dracs from searchin' for a while," he finally replied. "Our own deaths are our life-savers now, Kid."

Still with a shit-gobbling, pie-eating, sly-high smile on his face, Kobra chuckled, "Oh yeah? Wonder what Pony heard and make of it."

Show Pony, the filthy unicorn with a tail of dust clouds as they rolled and rocked everyone's socks off. The love child of Mother Mayhem and Father Fabulous no one questions why or how. Well, whatever their reaction is, Jet's sure it's bizarre as heck. Maybe they was with Dr. D's broadcasting, laughing as much as a manic pixie just like their two-of-a-kind bestie.

Why was he always stuck with the loony?

"What matters now is we stay low," he grumbled, tying the bandana he was holding around the singed flesh by his calf. Kobra watched him then sat by his side, slipping his lipstick red jacket off to reveal a patchwork of bruised and burnt skin. It made Jet wince more than what his wounds meant to him. "You were carrying all that when we went gone?" he asked.

Kobra shrugged, "I'm a close ranger. Yeah, I can shoot an eye for an eye but fists are my kicks, you know?"

He didn't want to know. He didn't want to remember how brutal the kid is in firefights. It was both scary and reassuring to have him there by his side but alas, Lady Luck spat at their faces today and threw them in a sticky, sticky situation. They were out in a scavenger hunt at the rundown gasoline station, looking for mostly scraps of metal they can trade for food. Nothing was really salvageable as killjoys used to frequent the old pumps and bit by bit, like worker ants without a queen, they took all the goods they can find. All's left there now was mostly the big metal frames of the station that no one can yell timber at.

It was locally known to be killjoy territory so the Four thought it was a nice day and all for a field trip kinda shit whilst you know, getting stuff done at the same time. They hitched a ride from the sand sledders, planning to walk it all out when the moon rose.

All's good and all. They found bits of metal, like the bigger screws and bent nails they can trade for a few coins. Fun Ghoul even found a toy drum which was quickly snatched the brothers who started singing out tunes from the old times. It was nice until the Scarecrow party patrolling nearby heard it and thought to check it out. And that's when the circles of hell bubbled up and bursted at their midst.

One minute they was trying to remember the lyrics to a song about a boy who left home, and the other, they was regretting why they left their so-called home. Jet even started to wonder if he was the boy the song they were singing about referred to as a ray of light zoomed towards him and bit his leg.

Adrenaline makes you feel things—or not feel things.

Jet remembered stumbling at Kobra who had just electrocuted some Drac with his hand-thing. He grabbed him and he was almost fried—he swore he was when he saw the light in the kid's eyes dulled out to a muted hue rather than the usual piercing glare. He remembered Party Poison shouting for his brother as their legs, now completely drunk from adrenaline, move on their own accord. Both of them ran and ran and ran until Kobra got a hold of the hem of his clothes and tugged him inside an abandoned shack, half-filled with sand.

And here they were now, just having listed to the announcements of their deaths giving them no further ideas on what to do next. Kobra was wiping and trying to wipe himself. All they've got was Jet's pack: a battery operated radio, some strips of jerky, and a worn out map.

He handed a strip of dried rabbit meat to Kobra. "Quit fiddling with your wounds, would ya?" he said as the other took the offered jerky.

"Whad'ya think?"

"Infection if you ain't quitting on touching your skin."

"Not that, ya goose. I meant the traffic report."

Jet paused, "Hell of a heart stopper."

"Yeah?" Kobra snickered. "Always thought it'd be more... I dunno, theatrical?"

"You want it to be like some Romeo and Juliet type of shit?"

"Who now?"

"Ro—nevermind," Jet said, remembering the brothers were desert born and all their city knowledge were through cds and cassette tapes smuggled from decades before—heirlooms of their family, they would always say. Kobra nudged at him, "So? Wouldn't you think it's a bit bland?"

"For what's happened to us, Kobra. This is all the grandeur life has to offer."

Kobra smirked, "Shit, man. Loosen up. I know they was just trying to send a message."

"Maybe you ought to—" Jet cut himself short when a distant rumble steadily became nearer and nearer to them. He raised his finger against his lips and crawled towards the only opening of the shack, taking a peek at one of the rotted holes.

It was a car dragging a blue trailer behind it. Jet crawled back to Kobra's side and relayed the information to him. At best, it was a band of friendly killjoys, with the worse being not-so-neutral neutrals. If it were killjoys, they would be asking for their hideout and that's not safe at all. Neutrals tend to be too passive or aggressive. It was risky business to get out there and be known, especially after the traffic report.

"Gimme your jacket," Kobra suddenly insisted.

"What?"

"Just shut up and trust me."

Jet sighed and shrugged off his jacket which the other took and folded, slipping it in the pack Jet had. He then took his own and turned it inside out, making it an off-orange one with tattered bits hanging out. He put it on and with handfuls of sand, dusted himself with dirt. He instructed Jet to take off his sunglasses which he reluctantly did and showered him with sand as well.

Before Jet could even ask, Kobra was making his way out of the shack and started waving at the vehicle. Jet immediately tackled his friend and they wrestled on the ground like worms drying out from the sun. "What are you up to, ya punk?" he angrily asked him.

"Right now Kobra Kid and Jet Star are ghosted. People ain't have a picture of us in they brains. They don't know us. Trust me. I need to get cleaned, you need to get tended. We out here for fuck knows when and what assurance we got? Just the Phoenix Witch, Jet. I can hear her cart wheels squealing and wheeling and coming our way. I don't want to be collected. The news can say I'm dead but I ain't dying weak-willed. Death ain't stopping me. Get up your ass and start calling that car!"

Jet froze like rock formations against sandy winds. All he felt was the sand around him as he absorbed what the other said. Kobra scoffed and pushed him away, continuing on trying to call the attention of the car.

He's right, he thought.

He slowly rose to his feet. The other spared a glance at him and smirked then went back on waving his arms wildly. He lifted his hands and opened his mouth, "Hey!"

Then, a car honk.

"Heeey!"

Honk.

He figured he will never ask for help. This was just his battle cry. He was still fighting for his life. He grinned, the same goblin, winning, all-fears-are-gone smirk like his friend's. To stay alive or not doesn't matter. But how you put up a hell of a fight. And he was red, red, ready.

The car honked again as it further approached them. Both men lowered their flailing arms, panting heavily and smiling wickedly. Kobra patted him and snaked his arm around his shoulder, pulling him close to him.

"Fake your death good."

#danger days #the true lives of the fabulous killjoys #zone waves #killjoys #transmission #jet star #kobra kid

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whispersandwhiskerburn · 7 years ago

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Live to Fight Another Day

Summary: Part 1 of a 2 part suspense/angst fic: a hunt goes terribly wrong for the reader and the Winchesters while Dean battles with his guilt. Canon style. Pairing: Dean x Reader Word Count: 2,430 Warnings: This is going to be an angsty one, folks. SFW. Also, cliffhanger. Author’s Note: This was a combination fic: the title came from Rebekah (@impala-dreamer)’s “Titles are Hard”Challenge, but the gif below and the bolded line came from Jess (@wi-deangirl77)’s “Fave SPN Episode Challenge” where she gave me a gif and a line from my favorite episode “Lazarus Rising”. When my bestie @waywardjoy picked the same episode for this challenge, we decided to combine our efforts and write a two part fic set in season 3 right after the “Jus in Bello” episode. When the Queen of Angst posts the second part, I will link it HERE as well as at the end of the fic. FEEDBACK IS LIFE, PEOPLE. Without further ado, the Queen of Canon presents part one of this fic:

Dean woke up from a new nightmare, the sheet sticking to the sweat on his chest as tried not to wake Y/N in the bed next to him.

He could still hear the voices of Henriksen, the cop he’d gotten killed, and Nancy, the virgin from the police station. Also dead because of him.

New ghosts to haunt him. Just what Dean needed.

“Babe, you okay?” Y/N mumbled, barely awake and reaching for him to comfort.

Dean didn’t know what he’d done to deserve her, but he pulled her close anyway and let her warmth and nearness chase away the ghosts.

“I’m fine, sweetheart. Just a nightmare. Go back to sleep.”

She snuggled into him, and Dean spooned around her, steadying his breath and heartbeat to match hers as she drifted back off to sleep. He shot a glance over at Sam and found his brother passed out, then tried to copy the two of them.

He’d learn to close his eyes again without seeing the faces of those people. It might take some violence, some alcohol, and some time, but he’d find a way. He always did.

When Dean finished his shower the next morning, he walked out into a tense room.

“Just because she’s a--”

“Demon, Sam. She’s a demon. And I don’t trust her. Knife, no knife; advice, no advice. She’s working an angle, and I’m not going to let you fall into her trap.”

Sam threw up his hands, apparently recognizing the tone in Y/N’s voice. Dean knew that when she was that adamant about something, there was no way either Winchester would be getting his way, despite their legendary stubbornness.

Dean raised an eyebrow at his girlfriend, but didn’t ask anything when she shook her head no. He could stay out of it. For now.

“So, what’s the plan? We got a case?”

Sam shot a glance at Y/N, then turned to pour himself a coffee in the crappy kitchenette of the cheap hotel.

Y/N spoke up, “maybe. I picked up a police report on the scanner of some missing backpackers in the national forest about 50 miles from here. I talked to Bobby, and he said there’s some demon signs in the area, so it might be our kind of thing.”

Dean made a face which Y/N interpreted correctly. “I know, I know, a devil’s gate was opened recently and there’s demon signs everywhere these days. It’s a thin lead, but....”

Sam muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, “which is exactly what I said,” which Y/N pointedly ignored.

The two of them looked to Dean, evidently waiting for him to make the call.

He thought about his nightmares, how all he wanted to do was take a damn break and be happy to have his brother alive, and his girlfriend in his arms. He wanted to get the Colt back, and he wanted to find a way out of this deal that had his soul bound for Hell. He wanted to forget about ghosts and guilt and the blood on his hands and just be a normal man, for once in his life.

But people don’t always get what they want. So Dean did what he always did: forced a smile and a quip, put on a brave face, and got on with the job.

“Hey, I just got outta jail. Bring it.”

Y/N’s look to Sam screamed I told you so! As she grabbed her bag and started repacking it for the road.

“I’ll see you two male models in the car in five then, ‘kay?”

The Winchesters both grunted their agreement and moved to get ready themselves as she headed to the motel office to check out.

Even with his life on a timer, the job never ended.

Before they rolled out of Nowheresville, or whatever this tiny town was, Dean pulled into a gas station to fill up Baby’s tank, and sending Sam inside to get some road-food before they started hunting.

Dean was surprised when Y/N got out of the car too, and even more so when she didn’t follow Sam in to visit the bathroom. Instead, she leaned against Baby’s door next to him with her arms crossed over her chest, her tee-shirt already sticking to her skin in the mid-morning heat.

“Okay, Dean. Spill.”

He raised his eyebrows at her in what he hoped was an innocent expression. He hadn’t done anything wrong. Recently.

“What?”

“Whatever it is that’s crawled inside that thick skull of yours and is making you so grim.”

Dean went to protest, but she held a hand up, cutting him off. “Yeah, yeah, you’ve kept a smile on. You know I can see through that shit. So can Sam, but he’s less willing to call you on it, especially now.” Dean’s face tightened.

“Is that what’s bothering you? Your deal?”

He looked at the pump, hoping it was almost done so he could get back in the car and avoid this conversation. The numbers seemed to be dragging.

“If it’s your deal, you shouldn’t let it bother you that much. We all know why you did it--and we’re not going to stop until we find a way to get you out of it. No matter what you say.”

Dean had made his thoughts clear on that subject in the past. Bobby, Sam, Y/N, Jo, and Ellen continued to ignore his warnings and there wasn’t much he could do about it.

But Y/N was staring at him, expectant. Dean sighed, knowing she wouldn’t let it go till he said something.

“It’s not my deal, or the fact that all of you have signed up for a lost cause trying to save me. Well, maybe that’s part of it. But mostly it’s the lost cause that seems to be my entire life--trying to save people and losing them anyway. Over and over and over again. Mom. Dad. I couldn’t save Jess for Sam. Everywhere I go, bodies drop, and there’s nothing I can do about it. Not really.”

Y/N’s eyes had become soft and understanding. He didn’t know why he’d said all that. He always said to much when he talked to her.

Her voice was gentle, and a teasing smile was on her face when Y/N spoke again, “so, you’re not worried about yourself, like a sane person would be. Your time’s ticking down, your life and soul on the line, and you’re sunk in survivor’s guilt, of all things.

“Dean Winchester, I want you to hear me. This job we do--it’s dark and depressing as hell 99% of the time. For every monster we face, there will always be another one, no one ever thanks us, and we all know we’ll probably die bloody somewhere along the way. We do what we can, but we can never save everyone. That’s just not how the world works.”

“Gee, thanks. I feel loads better now.” Dean finally heard the clunk as the old gas pump finished filling up the tank and busied his hands with the gas cap and the nozzle while Y/N waited for him to look at her again.

“Dean, guilt is as much a part of this life as booze and bullets. But letting it eat at you because you survived when someone else didn’t? That’s stupid. Saving people is part of the job description--and you’re a person. Sometimes, saving yourself is the win, especially when it’s all you can do. At least then you live to fight another day, to save someone else and yourself again another time. That’s important too.”

Her voice was serious, and Dean could tell this was something she had put a lot of thought into. Y/N had been raised a hunter like Sam and him. He knew she’d probably gone through this before, and he wanted to listen to her.

But he couldn’t. Not right now. Not with the faces of Nancy and Henriksen and the other people they were probably going to get killed because of that damn demon gate.

So he smiled and nodded, and she frowned, clearly seeing through him. He could tell she wanted to keep talking, but thankfully, when she saw Sam coming out of the gas station, she held her tongue and moved to get back into the car. Dean knew he hadn’t heard the last of this, but he was glad for the reprieve.

Sam reached the car and opened the passenger door, tossing in two bags of snacks before leaning on top of the cab. “I called the local cops while I was shopping, got directions to the campsite where the hikers went missing. We should be able to get there in about an hour, hour and a half.”

“Sounds good.” Dean ducked into the Impala and started her engine, pausing long enough for Sam to get settled and to pull out a bag of potato chips before pulling out onto the highway and on to their next hunt.

“It looks like we have to hike the rest of the way from here.” Sam was looking at a walking trail map that he’d picked up at the entrance to the state park, his fingers tracing the route to where the report said the missing hikers had been camping at.

“Awesome.” Dean smiled at Y/N’s sarcasm and the three of you piled out of the Impala, grabbing the necessary gear and following Sam’s lead into the woods.

The day was heating up, the temperature already in the mid 80s and Dean was sweating after just a few minutes of hiking. He stripped off his outer layer, tying it around his waist as he navigated the trail. To make the climb a little more enjoyable, he focused on watching Y/N’s ass instead of dwelling on the heat as he followed her into the woods, the last in their small line of three.

The plan was to find the campsite and look for sulfur or EMF readings. If they didn’t see either, it probably wasn’t their kind of case, and they’d leave it to the regular cops to find these people. Dean felt a little more guilt piled on at the thought of abandoning lost people, but there were just too many supernatural threats out in the world that they could be protecting people from. The natural ones had to be left to those out of the hunting life to take care of.

His thoughts and hike were interrupted as he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.

“Hang on a second, guys,” Dean pulled his cell out and saw one of Bobby’s numbers before accepting the call. “Yeah, Bobby, what’s up?”

“Dean? I need--there’s--you and--” There was static and Bobby’s voice was hard to understand.

“Bobby? Can you hear me?”

More static. When Dean glanced at the phone, he saw that the call had been disconnected.

He glanced at Y/N and Sam, “I must be out of range. I’m going to cut through to the maintenance road on the map,” he pointed off in the woods to the west, “ and walk back towards the entrance until I can get a signal again, see what Bobby wants, then I’ll catch up with you two, okay?”

Sam nodded and Y/N finished taking a drink of water before speaking, “sounds good. Watch your back and we’ll see you in a few.”

Dean handed off his bag so he could move faster and struck off into the woods. The trees weren’t so close together, and after barely a minute of walking he could see the maintenance road. Walking on it was a lot quicker and easier than the rough hiking trail, and he kept a good pace, checking his phone signal every 30 yards or so.

Finally, he got enough bars to place the call.

“Bobby? Can you hear me?”

“Dean! You three need to be careful. I did some digging on the area that Y/N told me about. There’s demon signs in the region, but the disappearances date back way before the demon’s gate. Every ten to twenty years, people go missing. I know you’re in Colorado, not Michigan, but it looks to me like--”

Dean had already done the math. “Wendigo. It’s a damn wendigo.”

“Probably. You’re packing flares, right?” Bobby sounded concerned, and the connection was faulty, but Dean could still tell what he said.

“Yeah, I think there’s some in my bag or Y/N’s, probably Sam’s too. I’ve got to go, Bobby, I split off to get you back on the phone.”

“Be careful.”

Dean had already hung up and was jogging back towards where he had got on the service road when he heard the scream.

Y/N.

“Y/N! Sam!” He picked up the pace, sprinting now.

Part of his mind was telling him to be careful, that that a wendigo could mimic voices, that it might be a trap. But when he heard another scream from Y/N, his body responded without his mind, and he took off through the woods toward the sound, calling out her name, and Sam’s, desperate to find them.

He had to save them. Dean couldn’t stand to lose either of them.

He found the trail and raced down it, tripping once on a root and falling, skinning his hands and landing hard on a knee. Dean pushed himself up again, cursing under his breath, his heart pounding as he raced through the woods.

Everything was quiet now, which scared him almost as much as the screams.

He almost tripped over his bag when he rounded a curve in the trail, but he caught himself this time. Sam was laid out under a tree a yard away and Dean rushed over to his brother. There was no blood, no wounds, but Sam wasn’t moving.

He felt for a pulse and let out a shaky sigh of relief when he found it strong in Sam’s neck. He looked around, but other than some claw marks on the tree above Sam and in the dirt a few feet away, there was no sign of the monster.

Y/N wasn’t there either.

It was late afternoon now, the sun was already starting to set, and Y/N had been taken by a wendigo. Dean felt like his stomach was sinking in his abdomen as he shook his unresponsive brother, and tried to think of a way to save her.

He would save her. Dean would not have Y/N haunt him too.

Part 2 HERE by @waywardjoy!

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jayankles · 7 years ago

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Fallen Loves Part 2

Pairing: Castiel x Reader, Jack x Adoptive Mother!Reader

Part 2: The Foundling

Word Count: 4060

Summary: Kelly’s pregnancy is coming to an end, she leaves you and Castiel a dying wish. After she dies, she give you and Castiel the responsibility to take care of her son like your own but things will prove to be difficult when you’re left to protect Jack with a broken heart and broken Winchesters.

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of Character Death, Season 13 spoilers in this part and the upcoming ones.

A/N – Overall title was thankfully given by @misticty – my bestie; I love you and thank you! - ‘To play on the fallen angel thing but also shows why jack is alone in most of the images’ and this weeks title was given by @feelmyroarrrr

You felt empty but knew that you had to do everything in your power to protect Kelly’s baby boy. Cas was no longer in the picture and although it tore you apart to the point where you thought you couldn’t function. You couldn’t just leave Jack to fend for himself. A baby, even though he the spawn of Lucifer, couldn’t fend for himself. You just had to pray that you could suck it up and take on these newly found responsibilities to care for a Nephilim.

With Dean still kneeling by Cas, you left him to grieve. You had passed the shock and denial stage and all you felt was complete nothingness. Like there was a hole left in your chest or your heart had been ripped from your ribcage and been squeezed until you were left with a sense of longing for Castiel and a sense of maternal instinct to protect Jack materialising within you.

You left without a word. A fire building in the pit of your stomach, like a power was transferring from another into you. It pushed you toward the cabin in search for Jack, unbeknownst to you Dean had briefly recovered to put on a facade of a tough guy, who hadn’t just lost a friend that meant the world to him, and followed you inside.

Creeping up the stairs and peeking around the frame in the nursery door, you saw a grown naked man sitting on the floor next to Jack’s crib, his eyes glowing yellow. The said baby not in his crib, the one Kelly had demanded and cried for during the hormones of the pregnancy.

You heard another unfamiliar voice, ‘father?’

Sam repetitively whispered no. It didn’t sound right; it sounded as if he was scared. ‘I-I-I’m not your father, Jack.’ Sam stumbled over his words, shuffling on his feet, undecided on whether he should stay put or run as fast as he could. ‘It is Jack, right?’

Jack?

How could that have been possible. Jack should have been a baby, you were supposed to take care of a baby!

‘Father.’ Jack repeated.

With your heart racing and your mind and legs having an argument, your legs won, lifting them and drawing you into the room slowly. As not to startle either Sam or the Nephilim, you cleared your throat, making your presence known to each of them.

‘Jack?’ You raised your hands, showing him that you were of no threat and not there to cause any harm. ‘It’s okay. You’re safe, we’re not here to hurt you, okay? Your mom...’

‘My mother, you know her?’ Jack’s eye still glowed an illuminous yellow. It scared the hell out of you but you had to stand your ground, you knew how much power a Nephilim held. And if he couldn’t control it, there would be serious consequences – for everyone around you.

Before you could answer, you heard the door of the cabin being swung open, footstep following closely behind, thudding with every step he took.

‘Sam? Sammy. Y/N?’ Dean’s voice boomed through from the bottom floor to the top.

‘We’re in here.’ Sam had answered for the both of you, never once removing your eyes from the child with the powerfully amber lit ones.

Dean walked in behind you, catching one glimpse of the Nephilim and immediately raising his gun and shooting at him.

‘No.’ Sam’s voice raised.

Flinching, Jack closed his eyes but quickly recovered, his eyes trained on the three of you. His mouth opened wide and the wave lengths running through the air shattered the windows, slowing down yours and the Winchesters’ movements and pushing you away so you were far away from the scared child.

What had felt like hours to you, a mere five seconds in real time, had passed before you all had been shoved against the wall away from Jack, all hitting your heads roughly against the wall, effectively being knocked out

You woke up with a gasp of Castiel’s name running passed your lips, your head pounding as if your brain was having a battling with your temple. At the time, Dean was holding his head, seemingly having the same effect of a headache that you were having and Sam had jolted awake, slapping away the remnants of his dream or nightmare, everyone’s reaction implied the latter.

Sam and Dean jumped from their spots on the floor, having a quicker reaction time than you, obviously, it took you a little longer to shake your head and get up off the floor, your thoughts jumbled as you saw the spawn of Lucifer in action. You were screwed if anything else was going to happen to the three of you.

‘Can he teleport?’ Dean demanded an answer.

‘Dean, he’s a kid. He won’t be able to control his powers after just hours of being born.’

‘He nearly killed us, Y/N, and you’re defending him!’ He roared.

‘I’m defending him because you scared him, you waltzed in there, guns blazing. You shot first, you didn’t even attempt to talk to him. He was fine just talking to Sam and I, and you shot at the damn kid, one of the most powerful kids, might I add, like a freaking psycho.

‘Didn’t you say that it isn’t just black and white with monsters. This kid could have been good and you took a shot at him. You took a shot at my kid, he’s my responsibility and now he gone. Alone in this world, naked, why can’t you just think for one goddamn second?’

Dean fumbled with the keys to his beloved car until he found the right key. ‘One, don’t quote me to me and B, he’s Lucifer’s son, what more do you need to prove he’s a bad kid?’

‘Oh I don’t know, the fact that he’s half human!’ You all but shouted at him, pulling open the back door to the impala and getting in with a huff of annoyance.

Sam had got the information of Jack’s whereabouts from a restaurant called Pirate Pete's Jolly Treats. He led you and his brother to the North Cove precinct in Washington where the Sheriff had told Sam that she had kept Jack at the station, gave him some clothes for the lost and found, and taken his fingerprint; find something peculiar – although not to the three of you – in the scanning database.

When you got there, you hopped out of the impala and sprinted toward the flickering lights within the precinct. Jack was screaming, clutching at his head, a sheer sign of the Angel radio blasting and thrumming through his eardrums. Lights exploding above him as he tried to stop the pain or tried to figure out what the source was.

He laid eyes upon Dean, you noticed, and his irises shone brighter, before he could do any harm, though, Sam had shot him with a taser gun, rendering him unconscious.

‘Nice shot.’ Dean had said, you only rolled your eyes at him, weighing up whether it was a good or a bad thing to have electrocuted the Nephilim.

The bad being you had scolded Dean for shooting at him but the good being it had knocked Jack out so that he could feel pain nor could he hurt anyone else.

Sam tentatively ambled towards Jack’s crumpled body, checking him but the cock of a gun had caught your attention. The Sheriff.

‘Don’t-’ Sheriff Christine Barker surveyed the area, clearly walking in and getting the wrong idea of what was happening. ‘What the hell is going on here?’

Breathing out a sigh, the three of you raised your hands at the view of the gun pointed and ready to shoot.

Christine had thrown you, the younger Winchester and the Nephilim into the cell and locked you inside, cuffing Dean to question him on the situation she had walked in on. As she sat him down, Christine had spread out his arsenal on her desk.

‘I’m sorry, say that again.’ Her expression no doubt incredulous as he told her about himself, his brother and you, about what you did – what you really did.

You sat with your knees drawn up to your chest, your chin resting atop of them. The picture of inside the cell became blurry and you found that it was because of your tears, Cas’ death replaying over and over and over again inside your mind, you hadn’t realised your body wracking with sobs until Sam had placed a hand on your shoulder to calm and bring you comfort.

Your sobs had awoken Jack but he had spun around so quickly it made your head spin, he retreated away from you his eyes glowing once more and trained on you and Sam.

‘Woah, woah, woah. Easy, easy, easy, easy. It’s okay. You’re okay. We’re not gonna hurt you.’

‘You already hurt me.’ Jack spat out at Sam, he apologised to him, trying to explain that he wanted to slow Jack down before he hurt his brother and himself.

‘Jack?’ Your voice coming out steady and soft, as not to rattle and provoke him further. ‘Are you okay?’

‘I don’t- I- I was scared.’ The Nephilim revealed, his glowing eyes reverting back to their original blue. ‘When I get scared, things… happen. I can’t stop them.’

He shook his head, not understand the power he held within himself.

‘Why were you scared?’ Sam asked, still leaning his weight away from the powerful child.

‘Because of the voices. They were so loud… so angry.’ His voice lowered.

Wiping away the stray tears, you slowly let your legs fall to the floor, leaning toward him. You were still skeptical that this was Jack Kline, the fully grown kid that was supposed to be a baby. ‘Do you- do you hear them now?’

From the crouching position Jack was in, he truly thought about the answer, listening carefully to what was inside his own head. ‘No.’

You and Sam let out a breath that neither of you thought that you were holding, thankful that the Angels had been silenced.

To your surprise, Jack had carefully sat down on one of the benches in the cell, crossing his legs as if he was in elementary school. He was so pure and he held all this power that had been passed down from his archangel father. How they were related you had no idea.

‘I’m sorry… would you tell them that I’m sorry?’

‘Oh, Jack, honey, of course. We know you didn’t meant too okay. We’ll protect you. I’ll protect you.’

Jack nodded his thanks and smiled honestly, not that he would know the difference but it was nice to see someone so… so innocent considering the way that he had been brought into the world.

‘How are you- um- how are we talking right now? You’re supposed to be a day old and you speak English?’

You were just as confused as Sam was but was thankful that he had asked the question that had been playing on your mind.

‘My mother, birth mother, taught me.’ A proud grin on his face as he spoke fondly of Kelly. Jack explained that he had become Kelly but didn’t learn his powers from her. He stood from his place in the cell and walked over to the window. ‘I don’t know why these things happen. It’s like I’m me but not… me.’

‘Jack, before you were born you opened up a door to another door. Do you remember that?’ Sam kept him talking and Jack traced his fingers against the cement walls before clenching his fists. He spoke his affirmation, Sam following up with the question of whether he could do it again.

The boy hesitated, he shook his head and changed the subject. ‘I have to find my father. He’ll protect me.’

Your eyes shot to Jack, already arguing that it was a bad idea. Sam on the exact same page as you but when he mentioned Lucifer, the boy said that Lucifer wasn’t his father’s name.

‘My father is Castiel.’ You gasped as the Nephilim said your dead Angel’s name, he took a seat again. ‘And my mother said that Castiel, he would protect me. She said that she would no longer be my mother after she goes, that Y/N would protect me too. She said that the world is a dangerous place. I couldn’t be a baby or a child so I had to grow up fast. That’s why I chose him to be my father and her my mother. Where are they?’

Sam swallowed and bluntly said that Castiel was dead, Jack’s hopeful face dropped, he was upset too. He hadn’t already met Castiel yet he loved him. To recover Jack’s fallen mood, Sam pointed to your frozen frame, ‘but this- this is Y/N.’

‘Mother!?’ The word finally brought you out of your stupor and you shook your head.

‘Hey Jack,’ you replied with a small curl of your lips, ‘but you don’t have to call me mother. It makes me feel old.’ You let out a watery chuckle. ‘Castiel’s gone but I’m still here and I’ll protect you the best I can. I promise.’

Dean strolled in, ‘we’re good to go.’

‘Really?’ ‘Are you sure?’ You and Sam answered at the same time.

The older Winchester nodded, telling you both that he gave the Sheriff the talk and that she would need to process the information.

With you sitting next to him and offering him comfort, Jack remained still as Dean talked about getting out and going back home, commenting on getting rid of the Nephilim.

Sam and you had jumped from your seats, telling Dean that Jack was a good kid and nothing like Lucifer.

A commotion had arisen from the front of the precinct and Dean rushed out to see what it was leaving you, Sam and Jack still in the cell.

Creaking and cracking came from another exit, Sam had walked along the length of the cell gate. The door window cracked before it was ripped off of its hinges, that being the fault of a celestial being, of two of them. The taller darker skinned Angel’s eyes glowing blue; Jack’s ears ringing out as the Angel radio blasted his ear drums.

Meanwhile the woman had torn off the cell door, attempting to take Jack but you wouldn’t let her, neither would Sam. He punched her while you threw yourself in front of Jack, ready to take on the Angels after him.

Sam dealt with the female Angel, until she overpowered him and slammed him into the wall. The male had taken over kicking Sam in the head and in the ribs, whilst the woman made a move to attack you.

Her fists swung back and forth, the skin on your cheeks breaking and bleeding as her knuckles collided with your face. She wasn’t getting Jack if you had something to do with it. You would do everything in your power to protect him, even if it meant getting a few licks off of an angry Angel.

Their torture continued until you had – unintentionally – left your post in front of Jack. The Angels had got a hold of Jack and only got to the jail cell door before Sam had blasted them away with a sigil; Jack, as well as an Angel blade, dropping to the floor.

‘Jack,’ you whispered in a hoarse voice, ‘are you okay, honey?’

Another Angel, the chick you saw earlier at the restaurant, strutted in without a care in the world – like most Angels.

The taller Winchester warned her not to touch him, to stay away from him as she looked into the cell at Jack. She nodded and held her blade out so that Sam could take it, but the hesitation he had caused her to snarl shouting that if the Angels couldn’t have him, nobody could. Right then, she flipped her hand and stabbed the Nephilim in the chest.

‘Jack! No!’ You cried out, unbelieving that you could lose Castiel and Jack in such a short time frame. Jack fell to his knees before Sam had stabbed her stomach, obliterating her from her chosen vessel. She fell to the floor with a thud but when you reached Jack, he wasn’t affected at all. You stood there stunned as he pulled the blade out of his chest, blood covering the blade but none dripping from the wound that should have been there.

‘How? How are yo-? What?’

‘I’m fine.’ He simply said.

You sat with Jack on the bench outside the precinct, the Sheriff’s son being wheeled away on a gurney into the ambulance.

Jack’s hands resting on his thighs, you took one of his in yours, covering the back of his hand was the only comfort you could provide.

Leading Jack to the impala, you sat in the back with him, sitting in silence as Sam and Dean threw open the doors and shuffled in the front, heading back to the cabin.

‘Can I tell you something, Y/N?’ Jack whispered in a low voice. Your head rested against the back bench of the impala and you rolled it to the side so that you could face him, one of your eyes opening a slither so that you could just see him.

‘Of course, Jack.’

‘I like nougat. I tried some today, and I liked it.’

You snorted at him, ‘good for you Jack. If you want, when we get to a gas station, I’ll buy you a whole back full of nougat bars. Just make it last and don’t eat them…’ you paused to yawn, ‘don’t eat them all at once because I don’t know what your digestive system or metabolism is like yet.’

‘Thank you, Y/N. You’re the best.’

When you arrived, you shoved the door open and overheard the Winchesters talk about burning Castiel’s body. You couldn’t listen to another word; you still refused to believe that he was really, truly, gone. You led Jack inside of the cabin, apologising with every chance you got that you hadn’t protected him like you had promised.

‘It’s okay, Y/N. You tried – to the best of your ability, you protected me like you promised. I am alive,’ he paused, ‘because of you and Sam and Dean. I am safe. It it more than I could say if I was in the custody of Lucifer. I’m glad I chose you as my mother.’

Licking your lips, you looked down at your feet, hopping from one foot to the other. You cleared your throat and wiped away the tears that threatened to fall. Jack had chosen you and Castiel to be his parents but you were the only one left.

‘Sorry, I- um, I’m thankful you gave me a chance to protect you. But if you do something stupid, I will not hesitate to turn on my mom mode and kick your ass into shape. If something goes bad then- then we’ll figure it out.’ You told him with all seriousness, pointing a finger at him.

Jack looked behind him, trying to angle his head correctly, ‘my- my ass is out of shape? I don’t-’

You lightly chuckled, ‘no Jack. It’s just an expression. It means that there will be repercussions if you intentionally do something bad, if it’s an accident we work out what caused it and try to fix it. We do everything we can to help you, to steer away from the bad if it comes to that, but we’ll look after you, we’ll take care of you, I’ll take care of you because it’s my job, because you’re my responsibility, because you’re my son now.’

Sweeping away his unkempt hair, you pecked a kiss on his forehead and lead him inside the house to say goodbye to his birth mom.

Sam followed the two of you in. You bit your lip at the sight of Kelly, her still warm corpse on the bed, under the thin sheet. Standing aside, you gave Jack’s arm a squeeze of reassurance before you let him walk closer to his mother.

He was hesitant in his movements, as he should be, his mother had died giving birth to him, even though he didn’t know a lot of emotions but he experienced grief, sorrow, he even felt the guilt creeping up inside of him.

Slowly reaching out, Jack opened up his hand, his fingers twitching before closing around her clothed feet. He was close to breaking, his eyes swelling, almost puffy and reddening in colour.

The blaring sun had sunk and dawn had now made its appearance, the Winchesters deeming it the right time to burn Castiel’s body, Dean had already prepared his body using the tatty curtains that were there when you, Cas and Kelly had first arrived – trying to protect both Kelly and Jack.

Castiel was on the pyre, your arm around Jack, the tears had already fallen, streaking down your cheeks. Dean was pouring the liquid gas over the pile of wood and the covered and tied body

‘Do you wanna say anything?’ Sam said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his orange jacket.

You shook your head. ‘Can’t, not yet.’ Your throat was sore as it felt like sandpaper working against your windpipe, restricting any further noise coming from you. Resting your head on Jack’s shoulder, you tilted your head upwards, glancing at Jack to see if he had any words for his father figure.

‘What do you say?’

‘Right.’ he paused, remembering that Jack was only but born a day ago. ‘Thank you. You say thank you and you say you’re sorry. You hope that they’re somewhere – uh – without sadness, pain. You hope they are somewhere better.’ He nodded, trying to convince himself. ‘You say goodbye.’

Sam had finished his explanation, you held on tighter to Jack at the thought of saying goodbye to your Angel, to the love of your life, your reason for living. It was harder than you thought, when you didn’t want to let go.

Dean joined the group, standing in between you and Sam, ready but reluctant to ignite the pyre. ‘Well goodbye, Cas.’ Dean fiddled with the lighter in his hand waiting for you to say your final goodbyes.

‘Goodbye, my love.’ It felt like your whole self had collapsed inside of you, your feet feeling heavy and your heart feeling empty.

Surprisingly, Dean continued, albeit with an understandably hoarse voice, ‘goodbye Kelly, goodbye Crowley, goodbye mom.’

‘We don’t even know-’

‘Yeah we do. We do, Sam. Lucifer killed her the moment he realised we trapped his ass, he killed her, you know he did.’ He stared down at his feet to compose himself, already facing the fact that he lost his mom and everyone else that he had grown fond of dead. ‘She’s gone, they’re all gone.’

No more words were spoken between you, the Winchesters and the Nephilim. Dean flipped the lid of the lighter then flicked it so the flame sparked.

He couldn’t even look as he tossed the lighter into the pyre.

The flames whooshed and grew, the oranges and yellow licked and kissed the air on the cold night in Washington. The ring of wood ignited and you were blinded by the light and stepped back from the heat. Jack arm hesitantly came to wrap around your shoulder, offering you the small comfort that he had slowly learned.

Tears gathered in Dean’s eyes, you noticed when you looked over at him, you were sure that they matched your own.

Licking your lips and biting the bottom one, you put an end to your quivering lip and grabbed hold of Dean’s hand, interlinking your fingers together, silently consoling him, needing his to know that you were there too to offer the reassurance that you both needed.

Your life was gone and the foundling was yours to protect and you were going to stick to your promise and oblige Kelly’s wishes and look after her son and to raise him as your own, you just didn’t know whether Dean could keep his opinions about Jack being the spawn of Lucifer to himself. The question was: would nature or nurture with the foundling growing up? Would you be enough to steer him away from the darkness? Could you do this alone? Without Cas?

Lemme know what you think…

Cas tags: @thorne93 @becaamm @you-know-whodoesthat-crazypeople @jotink78 @love-kittykat21 @hymnofthevalkyrie @kurosaki224-new-blog @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @iwantthedean @mrswhozeewhatsis @feelmyroarrrr @mizzezm @jesspfly @skybinx-blog @casbabes @plaidstiel-wormstache @lilasiannerd @ladydork @purplediamon @graceforme86 @nervousmemzie @percussiongirl2017 @oneshoeshort @whit85-blog @moonlover19 @emoryhemsworth @reallyverynodansi @captainemwinchester @ilsawasanacrobat @cojootromuelle @essie1876 @dancingalone21 @dslocum89 @atc74 @superwhomerlockinuum @spnbaby-67 @anitalasirenita @queencflair @weasleywinchester-blog @ria132love @nightlyinsomnious @easelweasel @grace-for-sale @roxyspearing

Fallen Loves tags: @princess-of-erebor1992 @d34n-l0v3s-c4s @kasia-fields @kudosia @jessilliam-caronday @supernaturallymarvellous @spn-smut-destiel @erin654 @unleashthemidnight @worried-and-horny @goldenolaf25 @melonberri @kenmen02 @sorenmarie87 @sophiebobzz @ericaprice2008 @sinners-winchester @cxemilyxlopezxc @briannaaae3 @growningupgeek @scionofthestars @gone-to-fight-the-fairies @samwinchestergal @demonlover87 @lupine-princess @katrodriguez1234 @misha-hoechlin @thepallaspalace @maryartposts @everythingpumpkinspiced @lonelyfandoms @angelblazon @firefly124 @thatshellfiredean @plaidstiel-wormstache @poukothenerd @dancing-the-hellfire-rumba @kamaroon @madeinthenh @superseejay721517 @robecca-le-blog-des-citations @hillywooddestiel @walkerchick007 @angie-tomlinson @deanandsamsbitch @luthien-princessofdoriath @yeppudaasims @smileydolphinsml @sir-helen-keller @trashforwinchesters @wotinspntarnation @megiestuff @daring-to-screw-up @sillesworldofwriting

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callmemana · 1 year ago

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@crazyk-imagine oh so you brought out the big guns huh? You think that will outshine my love for you? Just you wait bestie, I’ll be in your inbox soon 💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛

Howdy K!!

*boops your nose* send this to ten blogs you think are lovely and deserve a boop on the nose 🥰💛

Ugh, stop. You're too sweet, girly. I love getting these from you 🧡

#crazyk-imagine #tags #callmemana #birdie chirps #love war #which I plan to win 💛#ready up your battle station bestie!!!!#uno reverse card on loving you #so many memes will happen #yall aren’t ready #sweet victory will be MINE

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freedom-shamrock · 7 years ago

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A Little Secret - Chapter 2

Also on AO3

Chp 1 Chp 2 Chp 3 Chp 4 Chp 5 Chp 6 Chp 7 Chp 8 Chp 9 Chp 10 Chp 11

Amazing art created by @soundofez pg 1 pg 2 pg 3

Giving Your Tongue to the Chat

By the time Marinette reached the library, Adrien and Alya had already laid claim to one end of a table, but they hadn't started work on the project. She slipped her things into the place next to Adrien. "Hey guys, sorry I'm late."

"Where have you been all morning?" Alya asked. "Do you have any idea how hard it is being on a project with you and Adrien? Between model shoots and extracurriculars, his schedule's insane, and you're the amazing vanishing bestie."

"Oh, you know me," Marinette said, smiling weakly. "I overslept." It was a lie, of course. She'd spent most of her morning combatting an akuma on the other side of town.

"You know you're gonna need to fix that habit of yours before you pick up an internship, right?" Alya asked. "Most designers aren't going to be as forgiving as us." She planted her hands on her hips to deliver a stern look.

"Yes maman," Marinette promised. She sure hoped she and Chat could find and neutralize Hawkmoth before Final Bac. She suspected Master Fu had chosen teenagers for the ladybug and black cat simply because their absences would be difficult but not career shattering. She couldn't imagine either of her parents fitting this into their schedules.

"She's just cross because she missed this morning's akuma," Adrien whispered.

"There was an attack this morning?" She'd gotten much better at feigning ignorance and coming up with believable excuses. She'd had plenty of practice, after all.

Adrien nodded, the small polite smile she hated firmly in place. It wasn't quite his model mask, but it usually meant he was subduing himself to stick to the image his father had crafted for him. It showed up a lot at school and in other public places. Fortunately, it tended to be thoroughly tucked away when he was at her house. "I was also out for an emergency shoot." He snorted. It had become a joke that his father's unexpected random photoshoots to capture one last thing, or replace something he found subpar constituted emergencies in Gabriel Agreste's mind.

"Oh dear," Marinette said dramatically. "What was it this time? Did you have a hair out of place?"

Adrien bit his lip and shook his head, clearly trying to restrain his mirth. "Please, I was perfect." He let out a sniff, tipping his nose into the air. "But my jacket looked too snug across my shoulders while managing to look like a frumpy sack around my waist." He rolled his eyes.

"I can't help but feel like neither of you are taking this very seriously," Alya criticized. "This project is a quarter of our final grade."

"I'm so sorry Al," Marinette insisted, throwing babydoll eyes at her best friend. "I'll do better."

"Ugh," Alya said, waving both hands in Marinette's face. "Stop it. You're crazy good at that. And it should not be that effective on a seventeen year old."

She'd developed the skill to combat Chat's devastating kitten eyes, but no one in her civilian life knew that. Grinning, Marinette patted her tablet. "Well I'm here now, and I'm ready to be a focused and productive member of the team." She straightened up proudly. "I even did research last night in preparation."

"Was that during the time you were supposed to be sleeping?" Adrien teased, bumping her shoulder with his.

"The nerve," Marinette shot back with gasp. Playful Adrien didn't come out nearly often enough, and she was always keen to encourage it. She still liked him, possibly more than she had that first year, but it was the real him this time. She'd been shocked to discover the true Adrien hidden under that image of calm perfection. He was the second silliest person in her life, sometimes running neck and neck with Chat Noir, and probably the most approachable person she knew. He got downright giddy when he could actually do a favor for a friend, and he tended to go over the top on such things. She'd caught a persistent sadness lurking in the background, concealed by fake smiles and finger-guns.

His teasing demanded a response, so she stuck out her tongue at him.

Grinning mischievously, he reached out and caught her tongue between two fingers. "Gotchya."

"Llllll," Marinette objected, squirming out of his gentle hold.

"Could you two stop flirting and focus," Alya demanded, not bothering to cover her smile.

Marinette made a great show of assessing her tongue for damage. "I'll get you back for that," she said, delighted by his lightheartedness this morning. That usually meant things at home were going as well as they could.

"Is that a threat or a promise?" he asked slyly, leaning toward her.

"Dude, we do not use the smoulder at school," Nino said, tossing his things down across from his best friend. "We've talked about this." His tone spoke of long-suffering, but his knowing grin told a different story.

"Awww," Adrien whined, slouching in his chair like a chastised child. "But it works so well."

"True," Nino agreed. "But we are not raising a manipulative jerk here." He gestured with one open hand at Adrien. "You are so much better than some people you're related to. Let's embrace that, shall we." Nino reached into one of the front pockets of his jeans. "Oh, before I forget. I got you a new workout mix."

Adrien's face brightened up, shattering the polite mask he usually wore. "Really?" He cradled the pen-drive as though it were precious.

"Yes really," Nino insisted. "If your father is going to make you continue with the personal trainer and heavy duty workout program, despite the fact that you're already perfect, you deserve to enjoy the time as much as possible."

Adrien hugged the drive before carefully tucking it into his bag, beaming the whole time. It didn't matter that Nino regularly gave his friends music, Adrien always considered it a special treat.

Adrien burst into history class after lunch with an excess of enthusiasm. He was grinning and bouncing as he made his way to his seat.

"What did you have for lunch, and where can I get some?" Alya asked, leaning forward on the desk she and Marinette shared. They'd returned to their original seating arrangement this year after trying all other configurations in previous years.

"My afternoon shoot was canceled," Adrien said. "I have a whole afternoon off." He collapsed into his chair in a move that looked remarkably like a certain boneless cat-boy. "And father's gone this week, so Nathalie conveniently didn't plug anything else in."

"Aw dude," Nino said, disappointment coloring his voice. "There's nothing I'd like to do more than hang out with you, but I've got a shadowing thing at the radio station today."

"No problem," Adrien insisted. "I can't expect you to drop everything for me."

Nino frowned. "You know I would though, right? If you needed me to."

Adrien's eyes widened and he looked down, the edges of his ears going pink. "Oh. Um. Today isn't a need, but thanks." He glanced at the table behind him. "Alya, Marinette, are either of you available?" His voice sounded oddly strained, hopeful.

Alya sighed. "I'm watching my sisters today, but we could probably join you for a bit at the park."

"I'm free," Marinette said. "We could do the park first, and then go back to my place for gaming and dinner."

The goofy smile was back on his face. "Really? It's been ages since I had dinner with your family. That'd be really cool. Thanks."

At the park, Marinette watched Adrien chase Alya's nine year old twin sisters around the playground equipment. He'd left his bag with her on the bench when he went in pursuit of "the little monkeys." She hadn't asked him out, and had put that whole idea on hold for now. It had less to do with nerves and freaking out, and more to do with reality. The last thing Adrien needed was a girlfriend who ditched him regularly with crappy excuses for her absences. He had more than enough abandonment in his life, and she couldn't bear the thought of adding to it. Until she could be sure she wouldn't have to vanish all the time to deal with Paris' miraculous psychopath, she'd have to settle for being the best friend she could to him. Her resolve didn't prevent her from enjoying watching him move.

"That personal trainer must have him doing some crazy shit to be in this kind of shape," Alya said. "How does he even have time for that?"

Marinette shook her head, critically assessing everything he was doing. The girls were chasing him now, and he turned and dodged far faster than seemed possible. He could have run circles around Kim. He darted under the swingset, leaping up to catch the support bar. In a move that belonged in an action film or akuma battle, he swung his legs up and over the bar, holding himself fully upside down on extended arms for a moment before dropping down the other side and landing behind Alya's sisters, effectively swapping roles with them again.

"Holy shit Agreste!" Alya shouted. "Don't you be teaching my sisters impossible stuff."

He glanced toward the bench, a wide devilish smile on his lips. "Not impossible," he insisted. "It just requires a working knowledge of physics."

"And a jacked body," she retorted.

"Hey!" The girls swarmed him then. Laughing, he scooped one up in each arm, spinning a bit as he walked back to the bench. "I'll have you know that this body is the result of a lot of hard work." He winked. "And a pretty good hit from the genetic lottery." He set the girls down in front of their sister, where they promptly flopped into the grass laughing. "No artificial colors or preservatives." He poked at his belly.

Alya made a little motion with her index finger. "Let us have a look at that."

"Alya!" Marinette gasped. "Do you want his father to see a photo of him flashing his abs at us on the front of some tabloid?"

"You're not curious?" Alya demanded in disbelief.

Marinette snorted. "I've already seen it." She grinned up at Adrien. "I mean he had that recent swimsuit campaign, and it was quite flattering."

"I bet he was airbrushed," Alya taunted.

Adrien feigned shock, one hand going to his chest in mock horror. "Airbrushed? Me?!"

"The runway photos supported the evidence in the advertisements," Marinette pointed out. "Don't worry, Adrien. I've got your back. I, personally, believe in your abs."

Adrien sat down beside Marinette, and oh, he was deliciously warm. The air had just enough of a bite to chill her. "I guess that settles that." He stuck his tongue out at Alya and Marinette reached up and pinched it. "Hey!"

Marinette burst into giggles. "Told you I'd get you back."

"That was like two weeks ago," he objected.

"I can be patient."

Alya snorted. "She can be ridiculously patient." She sighed. "Fun though this has been, I've gotta get my monkeys home, and you ," she paused to poke Adrien in the shoulder, "need to get our Maricicle warmed up."

Adrien looked down at Marinette, frowning slightly. "Geeze, Mari. I didn't realize you were so cold. I'm sorry." He stood up and pulled off his jacket, wrapping it around her shoulders.

Though she probably should have refused, her fingers held the jacket closed. "Ooooh," she moaned. "Soooo warm." She tucked her face into the neck as well, subtly catching his scent from it. She unzipped the little pouch she'd taken to wearing on her hip. Scooping Tikki out, she settled the little being into the snuggly inner pocket of his jacket, feeling the little kwami shiver before relaxing into the added warmth.

"Time to get you home," he said firmly. "I recommend tea and Mecha Strike."

Chapter title - "Giving your tongue to the cat" is a French idiom that means being unable to guess. Sometimes people use it in place of the American idiom "the cat has your tongue" but it's not an exact parallel.

Chapter art by @soundofez, posted with express permission, can be found here.

Huge thanks to my betas: Karnival and @chatbug-jk

#Miraculous Ladybug #Miraculous Big Bang #fanfic #my writing #soundofez #A Little Secret

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zwei-the-penguin-with-a-pen · 7 years ago

Text

‘Stars’

So, this one isn't going to be much of a narrative story, really, just an account of my experiences meeting the cast of RWBY at NebKon. I'll try and make an actual story out of it, but no promises. You guys know, ZweI is a bit of a spazz when it comes to stuff like this.

ANYWAY, two days before the Kon our saga begins!

"ZWEI!" I hear after roaming the bus station for more than a few minutes. I look across the street and lay my eyes on Regular-Sized Jimmy. I say 'regular-sized' because in some circles I'm known as Little Jimmy. This Jimmy doesn't actually know me by either of those names and calls me my real one, but that isn't really anyone's business but mine.

So I grab my bag and haul across the street once the crosswalk lights permit me, and before I can even get in the car Jimmy begins to complain. This, that or the other, just general Kon stuff and things. This wouldn't be a problem if we hadn't had to drive all around Omaha during high-ish traffic and do fifty thousand errands even though one of us just got off a damned day-long bus ride.

RSJ's errands include picking up the Bobb, one of the housemates, bringing her to Omaha Oriental THE COOLEST SHOP KNOWN TO MAN BY THE WAY IF YOU EVER FIND YOURSELF IN OMAHA YOU SHOULD MAKE THE SCENE so she can acquire Kon supplies, a phrase which here means 'all manner of Asian junk food', and stopping at Lowe's for something or other for RSJ to finish his cosplay.

Finally, we make it to their house. My bestie is still at work, most unfortunately, but the wonderful Mick is home. She'd stayed home sick from work, which is never a good thing to have to do, but she felt better by the Kon. Good times to be had by all. After a hug and a few words, I go straight to 'my room' which is in disarray because it's only a storage area.

Mick apologizes for not having the room cleaned and ready for me, and I tell her to do no such thing. Also, I have just realized, as in just now at the time of this writing, that I'm writing in present tense. It fits well, even though I don't like the style, so I guess I'll keep it just this time.

Around 11, my bestie texts me that his occupational imprisonment has ended. I'm so glad he'll be home soon. Once he makes the scene he knocks on my door and proceeds to crash into my bed. Hang time ensues, as it's easier to stay awake with him talking to me. The rest of the roomies are quieter than I'm used to, so I had been dozing off here and there.

DAY BEFORE CON! RSJ works frantically to finish his cosplay, enlisting much help from Mick and at one point trying to recruit me. I inform him that I'm terrible with a paintbrush and would do more harm than good. Ooh, did I mention the Bobb bought takoyaki and shared with us? Good stuff, as far as fried balls of cabbage and octopus go. That was the night before. Anywho...

I try and get a jump on my writing challenge, knowing full well the Kon will swallow all my time the next three days. Bestie has work again because EFF BUCKY AND HIS CONVENIENCE STORE I mean what? I said no such thing! How dare you incinerate that I can't use big words!!

Sorry... not sorry at all. WAHAHAHAHA

FRIDAY, FIRST DAY OF CON!!!

Get packed, stop for breakfast at two in the afternoon, and suddenly we're at the Kon.

And I see cosplay before we ever even park the car. A Garnet from Steven Universe walks by us and we cheer for them. A Doctor Mercy, like from Overwatch but not in her battle gear, parks next to us.

We finally make it into the hotel and I'm completely mystified. There's cosplay everywhere. Did I mention this was my first nerd convention? I go to the check-in area and show my three-day pass to acquire my t-shirt. Then, whatever my bestie and I try to do after that repeatedly becomes entirely derailed as I become enamored with every other cosplayer that walked by me.

RWBY cosplayers seem to be the order of the weekend. I see more Noras and Yangs and Rubys than anything, but there are Torchwicks and Neos and even the occasional Adam. As the Kon goes on I see more Blakes, which is never a bad thing as she's my fave, and Jaunes and Rens and PYRRHAS. I miss my waifu. It's a shame she was murdered, but it was destiny or something.

She was based on Achilles...

Bestie and I make a couple of panels, including 'Walking in Godzilla's Footsteps' which is basically constructing a city out of cardboard boxes and destroying it over an over again. We meet Avatar Aang and Toph Beifong as well as Lord Raiden and even the real Nora Valkyrie. She worked on the Kon staff and was ALWAYS in character. Someone even asked me if she was Samantha Ireland because she had the voice down so well

She wasn't. I tell you, SHE WAS THE REAL NORA! She escaped into our world and wreaked havoc upon us. Unfortunately, she didn't break my legs. Oh well, maybe next time.

Next panel we make is Voice Acting 101, featuring Erica Lindbeck and Arryn Zech. MY BAE IS IN THE SAME ROOM AS ME YOU GUYS! And she's talking to Barbie, apparently. Yep, Erica Lindbeck is the voice actor for Barbie. Every time you see those Target holiday commercials, THAT'S MY GIRL! Also, we find out that Arryn is a massive Digimon fan. Ah, can I count the reasons I love this woman?

The first RWBY signing is right after this panel. We make the scene to find that the line has wrapped around two hallways. After nearly two hours of waiting they close the door on us. We never even got close. Good thing they were signing all three days.

Bestie and I make a short trip to Runza. Good eats, by the way. 12/10 would recommend. When we get back, we finally go to the hotel room and release most of the stuff we've been carrying and decide what we're to do next. I decide to take a rest before whatever the next panel I'm interested in, and I ended up crashing until after midnight and missing it. I catch up with bestie around 1:30, and we make the IT'S 2 AM AND WE'RE STILL GOING panel.

We roam around a bit longer after that before retiring to the room for all of two to three hours of sleep.

SATURDAY! The RWBY signing for this day is stupid early, so we leave the room by 8 and make the scene, and there's already a bit of a line. We end up in line behind a Penny, a Nora and a Ruby that are all friends. This Nora becomes known as 'Nora with the Hammer' because she had a Magnhild prop that was twice her height. Also, I need a title to differentiate from Duct Tape Nora who I met the day before and had an incredible cosplay.

Behind us are a couple fellow muggle folks, and Bestie gets to talking with them about My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic. I pop in and out until they start talking about RWBY, at which point I spazz. Naturally. Oh yeah, the line finally starts moving, and before long we can see the doors of the room. Omaha D was the room in question.

Sometime during this wait, I see two professional cosplayers dressed as Ren and Pyrrha and beg for their picture. This happens a lot with different cosplays. Before much longer we're in the room and I can hardly contain myself.

Lindsay Jones notices my bestie's Rainbow Dash shirt and proclaims for the whole room to hear that RAINBOW DASH IS BEST PONY! Bestie warns her that she's in a gigantic den of nerds and that saying such things could start a rumble. She's Lindsay, though, so she should be fine.

I come next, and she thanks me for supporting the show. I tell her it's shaping up to be my favorite anime but that it will be tough to top Yu Yu Hakusho. "Excellent choice! I love Kuwabara!"

"HE'S ON YOUR SHOW NOW! OF COURSE, YOU LOVE HIM!!" I shriek as she signs my sketchbook and the poster for my niblings.

Kara comes next, and I mispronounce her name. She says nothing about it, instead lightly complaining about how the staff wants the signees to cut conversations with the guests short and that her favorite part of signings is the talking.

I'm swiftly approaching my bae, you guys. I'm shook that I'm this close to her. I'm clutching my drawing of her for dear life. Bestie mentions that we went to the VA 101 panel, and she apologizes. He goes on to mention the Digimon thing, saying that he's also a superfan.

"Ooh, Bob's Burgers!" Is the first thing Arryn says to me, noticing my favorite shirt. She asks where I got it after she signs my things, and even asks for a picture of it. THERE'S A PICTURE OF ME ON ARRYN ZECH'S PHONE YOU GUYS!! I'm still shook.

She mentions her boyfriend, as his name is Bob, and I say that I used to watch his show, The 100, but I lost track of it because I'm terrible at watching shows. "So, I made you something..." I say, passing her the picture.

SHE WIGS OUT THAT I DREW HER! "WHOA! SHUT UP! THAT'S SO SWEET OF YOU!"

"I'm sorry I made your eyelash game so strong, but I'm glad you like it!" And then I ask her for a picture. And my soul leaves my body as I snap the photograph.

On to Barbara, still buzzing hard from Arryn. Barb makes puns at my bestie, as he made a joke about the Yang cosplayer a few people in front of us. "DUDE, YANG'S ABOUT TO MEET YANG! tHE UNIVERSE WILL IMPLODE!"

"Yeah, especially if they start cracking jokes..." I mention. Barb signs us and makes puns at us. Lovely times.

And finally, we reach Elizabeth Maxwell. In addition to Winter Schnee, we find out that she voiced Lady Urbosa from Breath of the Wild. Bestie tells her that she's her favorite Gerudo. I get an Urbosa poster for her to sign, planning to give it to Bestie. She notices my shirt and we talk Bob's for a minute.

And our mission is complete, so we make our way to the nearest eats we can find. After filling our faces we find our way to the vendors' block and proceed to spend more money than is humanly necessary. Soon we catch up with RSJ and Mick at a panel on cosplay fabrics. Later we catch the RWBY Q&A, and times are great until that business with that one guy that is not our friend.

We also see Her Majesty the King leaving the bar as we're heading into the jam with Bard and friends. THE BARD LET ME PLAY HIS GUITAR! WE JAMMED SO HARD YOU GUYS! So did everyone in the place. It was a beautiful time, it really was.

On Sunday, Bestie got signed by Todd Haberkorn for a friend of ours, and as he waited he found a Weird Al cosplayer WITH AN ACCORDION! Dance party shenanigans ensue, naturally.

We catch up again later and make the 'How'd We Do' review panel and Closing Ceremonies. We're super bummed that the Kon has just ended. We eventually make it back home, and I crash on his floor before I realize what's going on. The next afternoon I catch a bus back to Louisiana, still spinning from everything.

So yeah, that's how Remnant was made... or something.

I CAN'T BELIEVE I MET MY BAE!!!

*makes heart eyes for forever and a week*

\/\/\/\/\/

Day 18: A VA dressed as their character

For once, I have more than a rant for this day. XD

But yeah, meeting them all was glorious.

Oh yeah, i’m finally caught up. Well, i will be when I finished the next fic. Formal wear. Hmm...