#sam monstrosity studies

[finalgirlsamwinchester]

supernatural was truly just. a fifteen year long experimental study looking into an audience's ability to empathise with the Narrative Scapegoat. the results? most people are still filled with the medieval urge to throw rotten fruit at the resident Freak in the town square.

[theepitomeofamess]

ok ok it's theory time bc i'm rewatching mismag 1 as a coping mechanism so potential spoilers ahoy & forgive me if it's rambly i've also had a sedative

the serpent in the storm. the one without a name and only shown as an illumination in the Tome of Nimble Working. is that what was possessing evan? like is it the amalgamation of the "demons" that were haunting him, or even just The Main Guy? i'm not sure if this creature has anything to do with the breaking of magic, I just started thinking about this today at work, but hear me out.

in Class Conflict, the manifestation of the thing haunting Evan when it emerged to protect him was the blood cobra, and the barb that Tallulah hit Evan with after potions class was that all she heard was "hissing noises." so we know that snakes are something evil & monstrous in wizard culture (as much as they were in HP) but not because they're the mascot of the "evil house" Aqarbus. so where did the serpent symbolism come from?

later, in Family on Six when Evan makes the agreement to lean on the demons to save K, the "permanent change" that Brennan describes is that out of the shadow across evan's face "just goes black and is leaking black oil and water." aabira's description of the illumination of this creature was "a mix between a snake and an oil-soaked bird of prey." oil-soaked.

this is kinda what got me thinking in the first place, because what are the things you think of when you think of Evan Kelmp? Bird Facts and Gas Station Parking Lots. this absolutely feels like something Aabria would pull to make Brennan eat the lore he created.

it's also the type of shit she would do because of K's attempts to find any sort of books about what these "demons" might be during the exorcism, only to be met with "you think you're going to find me in a book?" maybe not named. not studied. no anatomical drawings or any sort of understanding as to what it is. but yeah. they'll find it in a book.

i do think that maybe this bird snake entity has been tied to Evan since before his birth---aabria's description in the latest S2 ep: "you feel yourself and the inside of you is empty, and something that was always meant to be poured in is beginning to pour itself back in" tells me that Evan was born to be a vessel for something. now, the demons at the exorcism said that Evan was promised to them. promised by whom? promised by what? maybe by the thing that knew it was going to be held within Evan, and knew that if he were to grow up with a dark enough childhood, if he were to be haunted enough, he might become the Dark One.

now, we don't really know the mythology of the Dark One. we don't know what sort of prophecy was told about it. going off of the general trope of the thing, we've gotta assume that it's something along the lines of "this person will unleash a great terror/darkness/evil upon the world." this likely was supposed to happen as a result of evan's torment like a psychotic break, or maybe as a defense mechanism in a life-or-death situation. either way, this creature and the magic that it represents would have wanted to be released, maybe still using Evan as a vessel and working through him to maintain its unknown, mythological status. this thing isn't Tad, it can't and won't be lulled to sleep.

could this creature have been accidentally released as a result of sam's exorcism? probably, it had to have been a thing or else it wouldn't be on the orery.(besides, this ancient monstrosity would never have anticipated Sam Black). could it be that it was released after K killed Evan? possibly, idk how often gm's rearrange lore behind the scenes to better fit what's happened in the story they're playing through.

whatever the case, I do think that it's not insignificant that Evan only started getting inklings of this sort of repossession leaking in after the events on Seeganpelater. the place where he saw the creature through the serpent's watch (a scene that in illustration implies that, maybe, the serpent could see them, too). the place where he snapped his wand. the place where he killed Boudicca. where we saw him be a magic murderer, where we saw him truly tap into the darkness he's been assigned his whole life. somewhere on cannibal Island, there was a moment of reconnection, and it helps that the very next places they went to were the islands that 1) stressed Evan out beyond belief, and 2) worked with amplification. it was able to strengthen its bond either the minute they landed, or as soon as Evan leaned into his strengths to scratch the tree with his shadow.

maybe this creature is what broke the well of magic. maybe it created the storm and destroyed Gowpenny. maybe this is a version of the Dark One prophecy coming true, breaking the rules of magic to the point that the entire system is broken and the world can never be what it used to. maybe it's not involved in anything and is just reveling in the chaos. I don't know. maybe all of these are coincidences between seasons. fun to think about, though!

[cypherscript]

Comic Con-versation

Had this little blurb idea while I was mowing at work, I seem to get these a lot while doing that...

This comes from the idea that during the episode Reign Storm, when Pariah Dark rips Amity Park from the land of the living it's not quite put back into its right dimension which ties into Reality Trip when Danny finds out there's a comic book series about him that heavily goes into his backstory to his dread. The universe? DC where Danny Phantom is essentially the same level as DC is here.

____________________________________________________

The Justice League was currently called into a meeting, not that is was a new thing for Billy aka Shazam. What WAS a new thing was that Constantine, workaphobic/smokeaholic Justice League Dark member, was the one to call in the meeting. Billy gets deposited by the zetatubes and sees some familiar faces around the table; Batman, Nightwing and Red Robin on one side while Flash and Kid Flash/Impulse sat across from them adamantly talking. Constantine stood by the projector controls with huge stacks of comics, newspapers and magazines.

One of the comics catches Billy's eye; a young man in a hazmat suit looking into a screen that loops onto him watching the screen titled Masters of All Time. He quickly flies over and snatches it from the pile, "Awesome! I didn't know we were aloud to bring comics up here. I've been meaning to catch up on this series." He kicks up his feet and starts reading.

Constantine gives a tired look at Shazam, "You mean to tell me that you know this series? I've just spent that last bloody three weeks studying this bollocks."

"Of course, who doesn't know about Danny Phantom?!"

The remaining league walks in at that point as Batman, Nightwing and Flash raise their hands. Impulse flashes over and reads them in a second.

"Dude that's so crash, these are CLASSIC~. Dad had an incomplete set that he gave me for my birthday. Oh dude! Reality Trip, I remember this one; Danny, Sam and Tucker are chased-"

"HEY! Spoilers!"

"Sorry."

"Constantine if you can just start the meeting about why we're here?"

"Right. As Shazam said; this is a comic book series about a ghost themed superhero. Sorta like Deadman but not magical." Constantine types into the console and brings up multiple pictures of Danny Phantom's scenes from the book. "The comic book series has been running for nineteen years, it's had multiple adaptations and crossovers. Thousands of roleplaying accounts across multiple social medias, millions of enjoyers of the media across the globe."

"How is this a problem for us," Aquaman asks as he flips through one of the comic books. "It's fictional."

"Yes and no." John presses a key and a real life picture of a town comes on screen."

"Holy Geez! Is that Amity Park?!" Red Robin exclaims as he takes over a personal console and makes a 3D render of the city, rotating and zooming until he finds a brick building with a heaping monstrosity of metal atop of it with a sign stating Fentonworks. "It's real..."

Batman looks at Red Robin calculatingly, "I wasn't aware you partook in that kind of media."

"It's a guilty hobby."

Constantine clears his throat, "It appears real. This city didn't exist four months ago and not just that." He pulls up an actual picture of Danny Phantom in the flesh, "This has magical bullshit written all over it and the only thing to explain it is a Tulpa. All of the evidence points to it; millions of thoughts based on one subject, it suddenly appears out of nowhere and there wasn't a blip on our systems."

"Is a tulpa that much of a problem," Wonder Woman asks as she looks over the pictures of Phantom and Amity Park."

"It can be difficult; seeing how this character's powerset changes more than Supe's does and he's just as strong. The problem is if it's NOT a tulpa and the comics are prophetic."

"Why," Batman asks straight to the point.

Constantine looks through the stacks of comics and pulls out two of them; one with a black gauntlet wearing a green skull ring taking up the front page and the other a grim scene of a large blue skin version of Danny Phantom with fire like hair standing amidst skulls and ruin buildings.

"This first one is about a King of Ghosts ripping the city from their plane of existance, he manages to defeat him in single combat and return his city to his world. Sound familiar?" John gestures at the images of Amity Park. The second is where the problem comes from; this is an evil version of the stories hero, corrupted after the lose of his family. He destroys his world with Amity Park being the only remaining city."

"Ok," Flash asks bored as he flips through the comics.

"Ok? Ok?! It's not bloody ok. It hasn't happened yet but other things have happened exactly as they did in the comics!" He pulls up videos of Danny Phantom and Danny Fenton being split apart and a satellite feed of a massive armored vehicle firing at something that can't be seen.

"The next part is Doomsday! Those two events happen directly after the city is ripped from its dimension and dropped into this one. We all die! Dark Danny comes back in time to reassure his future, we have to stop this."

The Justice league shares a look as Constantine keeps ranting about the incoming apocalypse from a comic book.

"Constantine when is the last time you had a vacation?"

[queenofbaws]

Got any jossam for a poor lowly college student? 👀👀 (and I hope you’re feeling better!!!! And I hope you’re having a good weekend so far!)

It took a beat for the words to make sense in his sleep-addled mind, but the moment the puzzle pieces all slotted into place and "This seat taken?" clicked in his brain, Josh turned to Sam as a man lost in the desert might turn to a mirage - disbelieving, startled, and more than a little confused.

She smirked, clearly proud of herself, and slid into the spot beside him, going so far as to set his usual coffee order in front of him before sipping at her own oat-milk monstrosity.

"Oh, you do not belong here, Sammy..." Josh chuckled, picking up the drink and giving it a swirl, "I don't want you to misunderstand me here, I've had dreams like this, you suddenly seeing the error of your ways and joining me in studying the deepest, darkest depths of the human psyche, but...you should not be in this lecture hall and you really, truly should leave while you still have the chance."

"Please, like I can't handle sitting around for an hour and listening to some old guy talk about...whatever you guys talk about over here," she teased, leaning to rest her head against his shoulder as she caffeinated herself (and, unknowingly, sealed her own fate), "I think I can handle one psych class if it means getting to spend a little extra time with y..."

It was his turn to smirk as the proctor began walking around, sending massive stacks of stapled papers and scantron half-sheets down each row; he felt Sam go stiff against his side as understanding dawned, and maybe it wasn't the coolest move in the book, but after all the time he'd spent cramming last night, manners were the farthest thing from his mind as he started cracking up.

"Oh it is not exam day," she said in a hushed voice, struggling to stand but finding his hand curled around one of her belt loops and weighing her down, "I take it back - I take it back! - I've had nightmares like this, oh my God, let me up, you putz!"

six sentence sat(or)sunday!!!

[jammie3132]

Fandom: Glee Pairing: Blaine Anderson & Sebastian Smythe Summary: Before they began dating, Blaine told him he wanted to be wooed. Now he’s saying it’s too much and to rein it in. One look at a calendar and Sebastian knows he's screwed. But if that’s what Blaine Anderson wants, that’s what Blaine Anderson will get. Notes: Roses and Chocolates

Season 4 AU: No sad Blaine. Bad Klaine break-up but no cheating. No Hunter. No steroids. Tie at Sectionals similar to what happened in Season 2. In other words, ignore the stupid stuff.

However, this one time, we’ll accept the stupidity of canon trying to convince us Lima and Westerville are practically right next to each other so Blaine doesn’t have to drive 2 hours (each way) to school every day.

September

School had been back in session for a week before Sebastian finally gave into Niff’s whining and agreed to go to the Lima Bean. He’d been avoiding the place because Blaine was always there. They shook hands at Regionals, but nothing came of it. They still weren’t talking. But Niff insisted there was something he had to see. It must have been big considering two cars full of Warblers followed them.

When he walked through the doors, he knew exactly what they were talking about. There, in all his glory, was Kurt Hummel wearing an apron, exactly as he’d predicted last year. Oh, he was going to have so much fun with this.

3 Weeks Later

Fridays were half days at Dalton. It was so those leaving for the weekend had time to prepare. This weekend he was staying back to study for his first big Economics (the subject that was going to kick his ass) test. But he could do that later. Right now, he felt like going on a run. He got ready but then changed his mind. He was still going for a run but was going to drive to Lima instead of using Dalton’s track. There was a little park there with a running trail he enjoyed. It also just so happened to be across the street from the Lima Bean. When he finished his run he could get an ice coffee and participate in his new favorite hobby Annoy the fuck out of Hummel.

After 3 weeks some would think he’d grown tired of it. Those people obviously didn’t know him.

High on the endorphins running gave him, Sebastian mentally organized the new zingers he’d come up with. Unfortunately, when he arrived at the coffee shop Hummel wasn’t there. Blaine was.

Shit!

Before he could make a hasty retreat, his former friend (and first boy he fell in love with for more than 20 minutes) called him over.

Shit!

"Shouldn’t you be in class at that public school you slum in?”

"I’m playing hooky.”

"You? Golden Boy Blaine Anderson is skipping? I’m both impressed and curious. What was so important you brought out your inner rebel?”

"I ended my relationship with Kurt.”

October

Blaine was meant to play Teen Angel. Watching him go down those stairs, dressed all in white and singing like a dream was doing things to him...naughty things.

That day in September when Blaine told him he had ended it with old Gayface, he immediately started his Come back to Dalton campaign. The former Warbler had a dozen reasons why he couldn’t. At the time, only one made sense. He didn’t want to change schools yet again (even though the first one wasn’t his fault). It wouldn't look good on his transcript.

Now, seeing Blaine Anderson own yet another stage, he could see another reason for his choice. Dalton didn’t have a Drama Club. Despite only having one scene, any performing arts college admissions officer would be able to see he was the best thing about this monstrosity. He hated to admit it, but this mess desperately needed Rachel Berry. It wasn’t like they weren’t already using graduates. For some reason Santana Lopez was playing the second female lead. Blaine explained why but all he heard was blah blah blah…Sam’s not happy about it…blah blah blah…he’s dating Brittany…blah blah blah…Santana’s ex.

This bit of information, plus the break-up of Berry and the Oaf gave him enough to keep him entertained both before and after the Teen Angel portion of the evening. Hummel looking back at him every 5 minutes also helped. He made sure to give him a little wave every…single…time.

Blaine warned him it would take around a half hour once the play was over for him to be able to leave, but it had almost been an hour. He assumed the delay was people trying to talk him into going to the cast party at Breadsticks. It was no secret Hummel (and the other graduates) planned to ignore the fact it was a cast party and crash. He decided to give it 10 more minutes before he went to find his unofficial, maybe someday, boyfriend. 

But then the yelling began.

“Are you kidding me? Never mind, I know you’re not. You expected me to sit on my ass and pine for you until graduation. I can’t believe I was so stupid.”

“Sebastian…”

“Sebastian is none of your damn business.”

“I knew you're cheating on me!”

That was his cue. He ran down the hall and around a corner to find Blaine with the current New Directions on one side and Hummel and the graduates on the other. Fucking great. The one thing Blaine made him promise was not to instigate an already tense situation. Wait…he was on the other side of the building. He (technically) had nothing to do with this showdown starting. But he knew a way to end it.

Game on!

He walked through the Old New Directions, winked at the NYADA reject and handed the flowers he brought to Blaine’s new (McKinley) BFF, Sam. Then, without a word, took Blaine in his arms and kissed him…hard. Blaine caught on and jumped up, wrapping his arms and legs around him like a Koala. When he grabbed hold of the Koala’s (perfect) ass to keep him up, the comments began. Applause erupted from the current New Directions side. Sam yelled Go get it, Anderson. There were catcalls from (who he believed was) Lopez. He was a little too busy to check it out.

If Hummel responded, it must have been at one of those pitches only dogs could hear. When they finally broke apart, he was in a best kiss I ever had daze and didn’t know what to do next.

Blaine did.

“Thanks, Babe. And Kurt, I'm not cheating on you. Not because I'm with Sebastian but because I broke up with you.”

“So, you are sleeping with Smythe!”

Now he knew what to say. “Why? You want to watch? Maybe I can teach you a thing or two. The New York Gays aren’t into, shall we say, vanilla. Then again, neither is B. Oh…you didn't know? You're a bigger idiot than I thought. Sorry about that B...in more ways than one.”

"It's alright. I'm sure the differences in my sex life have been highly speculated since you came back into my life."

Dog whistle, incoherent screaming

“Come on Killer, let’s go.” He took the flowers back from Sam and walked over to Artie (the director on Blaine’s side) “Apologies, but Blaine will not be attending the cast party.”

“No apologies necessary”

They went back to Dalton and crashed the Warblers monthly movie marathon. When Nick took Blaine upstairs to get some pj’s his phone started to go off. Of course, it was Hummel. He said to let it go to voicemail, but Thad answered it. He was able to use the words mock or mocking eight times before the other end went dead. The Warblers who were at Dalton with Hummel were literally rolling on the floor laughing. Someday, someone was going to have to tell him what that was about. When Blaine and Nick returned, he told Blaine what happened. He just shrugged then sat down next to him, stealing half his blanket. After grabbing his phone and blocking his ex's number, Blaine told the story of what happened after the play.

The movie marathon was scrapped. The group spent the rest of the night telling stories and laughing. At one point, some of the guys brought down their laptops and graduated Warblers were Skyped in. He learned what was so funny about the word mock. It was his favorite story after the one where Blaine jumped on a 100 year-old table, broke it into pieces and then somehow managed to charm the headmaster into not giving him detention for destruction of school property.

Fucking amazing

Blaine smiled the entire night until exhaustion took over. By this time, he’d hogged the majority of the blanket and was once again practicing being a Koala bear.

Again, fucking amazing

"Hey, Seb. Did we ever tell you about the Gap Attack?”

Thad took off at a full sprint when Blaine instantly woke up at the mere mention of the Gap Attack. It was ok, he knew the story but never got why it was such a big deal. Because, seriously, how could anyone reject such a grand gesture from Blaine Anderson?

November

The Warblers and New Directions decided to combine their We won Sectionals parties since technically they both won.

“A fucking tie? How the hell did we fucking tie?”

“It’s happened before” Sam reminded him, only slightly slurring his words. “When Blaine and he who shall not be named were at Dalton. Blaine took the lead on both songs and knocked them out of the park. Then Quinn and I did an awweeesooome duet. You know, I really liked Quinn but then she started sleeping with…yeah, I’m drunk.”

“Slept with who? Come on Evans!” Good thing that Sugar girl’s basement was huge so there was plenty of other furniture for the others. Sam was out cold. Watching his girlfriend eye fuck her ex all night probably contributed the situation, especially when that Quinn girl actually fucked some guy behind his back. But who?

He needed to find Blaine.

It didn’t take long. He was off to the side talking with the Oaf. If he understood what happened, the guy flunked out of the Army and has now taken over the New Directions since Schuster abandoned them. Fuck! He was also Hummel’s stepbrother.

Everyone knew their kiss after Grease was just to piss-off Hummel. It must have worked because the delusional diva-wannabe had gone silent. That changed today when he called Blaine, five minutes before they were supposed to go onstage. His number was supposed to be blocked but somehow rang through. That could wait. The real problem was figuring out what triggered the call in the first place. Since he wasn’t going to get answers from the fucking narcissist, the Oaf would have to do. “Did you tell the Bad Fairy what a dick move it was to call Blaine right before the New Directions went on stage? Or at least find out what the hell he wanted?”

The Oaf looked toward the ground and huffed, the international signal for you’re not going to like this. “Kurt thought he and Blaine would get back together when he was here last month. When that didn’t happen, he told anyone who would listen he found out Blaine was cheating on him with you even before he left for NYC. Supposedly he's been super depressed enough for his boss to call him into her office yesterday. She told him he’d never be able to move on until he offered forgiveness to those who wronged him. Kurt called Blaine so Blaine could apologize for cheating on him and then he could forgive him.” The Oaf and Blaine silently waited for a response. It wasn’t what they expected.

Full-on laughter

When he was able to breathe again, he sobered (not really, he was still pretty drunk) up to stare the Oaf directly in the eyes. He seemed a little taken aback. It probably didn’t happen very often. The dude was tall, but so was he. “Seb…”

“No, you’re going to listen to me. Tell that delusional son-of-a-bitch to stop saying shit about me and Blaine. If he says no, remind him my father is the State’s Attorney. I will never…ever see the inside of a jail cell. Oh, sorry Blaine."

"Don't be. Even if I wanted to press charges, which I didn't, the idiot gave away the evidence." 

"True." He turned his attention back to the Oaf. No, really turned. It made him nauseous. "And also let Gayface know my new, very good friend Sugar told me her Daddy can dispose of a body so it's never found. Got that?”

“Yeah, I’ll take care of it.”

He (slightly) nodded his head (still nauseous) and backed off. Blaine was smiling that smile that made him want to drop to his knees and offer everlasting fidelity…and give him a blowjob. However, this wasn’t the time or place. “Now that we’ve got that settled, can one of you tell me who the asshole was that fucked Sam's girlfriend behind his back? I need to kick his, or her, ass. No, I can’t hit a girl. Hey, Sugar! Come over here. I might need a favor!”

December

“Explain it to me one more time.”

"You understood the first time. You understood the second and third time.”

"I understand the part about Sam and Brittany getting married…”

"Fake married”

"But they didn’t know it was fake.”

Blaine lifted his coffee and gave it a slight tip, acknowledging his point. “Touché. So, what don’t you understand?”

"How Sammy-boy is still walking around. I thought Lopez would be here on the first flight out of NYC. She might not be as delusional as Hummel, but even I can tell she thought Britt would come running back if she changed her mind. The true question is she pissed because her ex moved on, or that Britt moved on with Sam, Satan's other ex?”

"You know about Sam and Santana?”

"I know he was just a beard but didn’t know it. Those girls in the New Directions treated your BFF like shit, which is really, really bad considering I'm the one saying it. You’d think he’d be quite the catch with those lips. Since he’s on team vagina…”

"Stop! Sam’s my best friend.”

"Are you telling me you’ve never thought about what those lips could do if he was on his knees…”

"Oh my God! Don’t put that thought in my head!”

He had to admit he’d thought about Sam that way a time or two, but it was always centered around Blaine. Primarily, what would happen if the guy was a switch hitter. He and Blaine were extremely tactical together. He’d watched them hug more times in 3 1/2 months than his parents had in his lifetime. They also had a cool nickname…Blam. He and Blaine needed a nickname. Bastian? No…Seblaine. Image Hummel’s meltdown hearing the Seb in his name replacing the K in Klaine.

"Earth to Sebastian. Please tell me you’re not thinking of Sam giving you a blowjob.”

"I wasn’t until…kidding. I’m only kidding.” He took a sip of his coffee before changing the subject. It was time to push things forward, or at least find out if it was possible. “But I was thinking about how close you and Sam are. I mean you were practically holding hands the other day when I picked you up. If your BFF could be your BF, would you be with him?” Well, that sounded stupid.

"Have I thought of me and Sam together? I'm a 17 year-old gay boy and he's gorgeous 17 year-old boy with six-pack abs. Of course, I've thought about it. But I'd never do anything to jeopardize our friendship."

Good! “So, if Blam is totally platonic, what about dating in general? You’ve had enough guys hit on you at Scandals. Or are you still not over Hummel?” Please be over him, please be over him.

"I don’t think the guys at Scandals are looking for dates. And I’ve been over Kurt for a while now." YES!!! "I should tell you something.”

That didn’t sound good. “Anything”

“Burt, Kurt’s dad, came to see me the other day and asked me to go with him to NYC for Christmas, obviously to see Kurt.”

WTF?! “He knows you and Hummel aren’t together anymore, right? Or didn’t he care.”

"It’s not like that.” Blaine finished his coffee before sitting back in his chair. “You can’t tell anyone.”

"Done.”

"He has cancer. Cancer is what killed Kurt’s mom. Burt’s going to NYC to tell him in person.”

Great, now he feels like an ass. "I’m sorry. I know you’re still close to him despite everything. But that doesn’t explain why he asked you to go.”

"He thought I would…you know what? I don’t really know why he thought it would be a good idea. Sam overheard Burt on the phone with Kurt and he mentioned our annual Christmas duet tradition. Maybe it was something to do with that.”

"Christmas duet tradition?”

"The first song Kurt and I sang together was Baby, it’s cold outside. And you saw the Christmas TV Special the New Directions filmed last year.”

"And you were great. But you said annual tradition.”

"Last year and the year before.”

“Killer, doing something two years in a row isn’t an annual tradition, it’s a coincidence.” For some reason Blaine began to laugh then volunteered to get them another round of coffees and a couple of Christmas cookies. When he returned the laughter had stopped, but the boy across from him seemed lighter somehow. “What did I say to put you in this mood? Not that I’m complaining.”

"Don't get mad but I was feeling a little sad about the Christmas duet tradition until you called it a coincidence."

O...K? "Why?"

"When I took the time to look back on my relationship with Kurt, I realized we didn't have a quote/unquote thing. The closest I could come was the duets."

"Nothing else? You were together over a year."

"Exactly. He gave me red and yellow roses once, but it was his attempt at an apology for accusing me of stealing Tony, West Side Story, from him. Even before the official announcement, it was pretty clear I had the part considering Artie had me read with both Rachel and Mercedes. Don't ask." He made the locking gesture over his lips. This sounded like the beginning of a rant, and he didn't want to stop progress. Hopefully, it would give him the information he had (badly) been trying to get since they got there.

"After that, every romantic gesture came from me. Hell, I weaved together a bow-tie ring out of gum wrappers. Don't ask." Wouldn't dream of it. "Oh, I forgot. He did give me a stuffed dog when my brother he was visiting, who by the way, Kurt didn't try to hide his massive crush on. Anyway, I was so touched he thought of me that I didn't wrap my head around the story of the dog until later. The seniors were at the amusement park for Senior Skip Day. Rachel made Finn play the games so he could win her stuffed animals. On the way back, Kurt thought of me, or Cooper and thus me, I don't know, and realized he didn't bring me back anything, which he said he would. So, he stole one of Rachel's multiple animals and gave it to me, saying she wouldn't miss it. He didn't win the dog. He stole it and then told me like it was no big deal."

"That's...that's a lot."

"I've got dozens more."

"No, that's ok. I believe you." And he had enough information. Anything more would just piss him off and cloud his focus. "So, what you're saying is when you're ready to date, you want to be the one who is...I know there's a word."

"Wooed. Yeah, I want to be wooed. And not just wooed. Bigly wooed. Hugely wooed. No, humungously wooed."

"I don't believe anything you said was grammatically correct."

"I don't care. I want chocolates and roses..."

"Just not red and yellow ones."

"Exactly! And besides being humungously wooed, I want to be with someone I don’t have to hide myself from. He’d have to accept my inner Geek…comic books, video games, Star Wars…”

Shit! "That eliminates me from the pool of potential boyfriends. I will never understand Star Wars. At least the canon…”

"Oh My God!!! I told Sam to stop sending you links to clone/clone smut!”

"I can’t help it. I find them fascinating. I mean, they’re clones of the same guy. So, the clone is basically having sex with himself. How is that not Masturbation?”

December 23 in Lima/December 24 in Paris

"Hey, Killer. I thought we agreed to Skype on the 26th after we opened our gifts?"

Blaine smiled and picked up Sebastian's (already opened) gift. "You got me a stuffed dog!"

"It's not the 26th!"

"I can't believe you actually thought I'd wait!"

Yeah, he should have known better. "Just so you know, I didn't win him, but I did build him."

"You went to Build-A-Bear and made me a puppy? You know what Build-A-Bear is?"

"Trent did. Then I asked Sam if he thought you'd like it. He showed up with Tina because she wanted to make sure I didn't fuck it up."

"You...?"

Something changed. Blaine had been like a hyperactive puppy...oh, now he gets the whole Puppy Dog Eyes of Doom thing Sam went on and on about. "You ok Killer?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm great." It looked like he hugged the stuffed animal tighter, but he couldn't tell for sure. The Skype was a little fuzzy. "Open your gift."

"No..."

"Open it. I want to see your face." When he came back with the box, Blaine was practically bouncing through the screen. "Open it!"

"Ok, ok...oh. Men of McKinley?"

"January and December."

"Jan...oh, shit!" 

"Remember when I told you the New Directions had to raise money to get a handicapped accessible bus for Regionals? Ta-da!"

"Um..."

"Speaking of January, December, do you want to get dinner before Sugar's New Year's Eve party?"

"Sure. Breadsticks, since it seems like that's the only place the New Directions go?"

"No, when I said dinner, I meant just you and me."

🎉🎉🎉"That sounds great."

December 31 11:59 PM/ January 1 12:02 AM

When the kissed ended, he lowered his head to put their foreheads together. "Blaine Anderson, I promise I am going to humungously woo you like no one has been humungously wooed before."

February

Blaine was in the Warbler Commons holding the basket he had delivered to McKinley. The Warblers were nowhere to be found. Thad told him Good Luck when he literally ran into him in the hallway but didn't say anything about canceling Warbler practice. Regionals were in 3 weeks. "Hey Babe, do you know where the guys are?"

"I asked them to give us some privacy." He held up the basket before setting it on one of the sofas. "You've got to stop, Bas."

"You don't like the puppies? They're for Bas Dog. The puppy with the pink bow is Alexandra and the one with the blue bow is Devon." Blaine sighed, then took his hand, taking him to the sofa across from the basket. "Did I do something wrong? You're the one who said you wanted to be humungously wooed."

"And I love being humungously wooed by you, but it's every day and I can't imagine the amount of money you've spent."

"That's not my fault, it's yours." Shit! He didn't want to tell Blaine this but no lying or hiding feelings was their Rule #1. "Remember the day you came to my house to help put away the Christmas decorations?"

"Yeah, there were a lot more than I thought there'd be considering your family spent the holidays in Paris."

"When you're a politician, you've still got to keep up appearances. Anyway, New Year's morning, after my wooing promise, I realized something. I had no fucking clue how to woo someone. Then I made a humungously big mistake. I asked my mother."

"Your mother is a lovely woman. Maybe a little over the top."

"No, and I love her, but she's an overbearing French snob who looks down on everyone and everything...except you. You come over, being all charming, (air quotes) forgetting not to call my parents Ma'am and Sir. You brought delicious homemade muffins you baked that morning because you didn't have a hostess gift. I invited you for manual labor not a dinner party."

"It was the polite thing..."

"And then when you and Mother went missing, and Dad and I found you both at the piano singing the score to Les Misérables? My dad pulled me aside and told me he was doubling my weekly allowance but called it my Don't fuck this up fund. Later that night, after you'd gone home, Mother came to my room and gave me a 3-hour lecture on wooing. Then she told me she was tripling my weekly allowance but called it my Don't fuck this up fund."

Blaine's smile was the only thing holding back his laughter. "Did you tell Vivian your father had already given you a raise?"

"Not at first. I thought she was just adding on to what Dad had already done. But when I checked the next day, the original amount was now five times larger. I told them but they waved it off. So, long story short, I haven't spent nearly what I could have. I didn't want to freak you out. And if you haven't guessed, my parents really like you."

"My parents like you too. If my father says the word "upgrade" one more time..." Blaine kissed his cheek but he could tell it was about his developing relationship with his father more than what they were discussing. It sometimes overwhelmed his boyfriend (he loved saying that) how he and Patrick Anderson got along so well. "Thank you for telling me what your parents have done but I want you, and your parents, to understand something. You're an amazing boyfriend and not because of the gifts. Ok, not just because of the gifts. If you don't believe me, believe the universe. You got into Harvard and I'm going to Berklee. We applied to those schools last year, when we weren't talking."

"Berklee was your backup school."

"Yes, at the time, but I could've chosen NYU and didn't. Something was steering me toward Boston. You're stuck with me. And maybe Brittany. Evidently, she's some sort of math genius and MIT is flying her out for further testing."

"That...that...that...huh?"

"I can't explain it either. I'll let you know when I know." Blaine got up and came backed with the two stuffed animals. "I love being wooed by you. Puppies for Bas Dog is incredibly sweet. The problem I have is you keep sending everything to McKinley."

"Are any of those assholes giving you crap because your boyfriend is sending you gifts?"

"No, it's not because you and I are gay. It's because Valentine's Day is next week. Today, a group of guys came into the Choir Room after Glee begging me to ask you to stop. Their girlfriends are constantly pointing out what you've sent me. No way can they live up to those expectations."

"That's not my fault."

"I know, just please, nothing else to McKinley until after Valentine's Day."

"Fine, but afterwards we're back to humungously wooing?"

Blaine sighed and gripped his hand tighter. "I told you, I'm not going anywhere."

"But..."

"I had an idea. Have you heard about Wes' Lent Challenge?"

"Yes, but you know my opinion on organized religions. They call me an abomination. I call them a bunch of hypocritical pedophiles."

"And I agree, but the Challenge wasn't about religion. It was about creativity, but we didn't get to choose what to give up. I had to give up boy band moves for 40 days. We were getting ready for Regionals!"

"Boy band moves?"

"And jumping on furniture."

"Ah, that makes more sense." Something about the way Blaine was looking at him let him know he wasn't going to let this go. "What's your idea?"

"Let me show you my Blaine Anderson everything has to be over the top skills and allow me to take over Valentine's Day."

OH, HELL NO! "That's not going to happen. We can both do Valentine's Day."

"That's what I figured you say. But I want you to understand, I'm with you because of you, not that you're the King of Humungously Wooing. You do believe that, don't you?'

Uhhhh... "Maybe"

"I know the Lent Challenge is a bit extreme, but I couldn't think of another way to get you to stop wooing me and let me prove to you how we can be really great without it."

Maybe he'd been going overboard. At first, he could blame having no idea how to be in a relationship and then bringing in his parents. Then Hummel found out they were together and conveniently came back to Lima to check on his dad, despite just beginning classes at NYADA. If he was there for his dad, how come he was at McKinley daily "helping" Schuster and the Oaf get the New Directions ready for Regionals? That's when he started sending the gifts to McKinley. But once he started, he couldn't stop. Ok, Hummel said something about Blaine will dump him once the gifts ended and he'd be there to pick up the pieces. 

He wasn't proud that he'd let it get to him.

"So, nothing to McKinley until after Valentine's Day. Then wooing, just not humungously wooing. And then, the Lent Challenge." He leaned in and kissed his boyfriend...his boyfriend. Yeah, he should learn to accept that. "When does Lent start?"

"It's not like Christmas. It's the 40 days before Easter and Easter's usually somewhere in April."

Later that evening, he pulled out a calendar to find out exactly when Lent began. 

Oh, shit! He's so screwed.

But if that’s what Blaine Anderson wants, that’s what Blaine Anderson will get.

February 14th

The next week was pretty great for him and Blaine. Sam on the other hand...

Brittany broke up with him via text, when they were in the same room, because her cat told her to. The next day she flew off to MIT. The breakup (dumping) was most likely due to that, but the cat story was more fun.

Sam's pain was real, and he kind of felt bad, but it gave him the opportunity to woo Blaine but look like he was cutting back at the same time. Thankfully, even after all the money he's spent to this point and the money he was spending on Valentine's Day, there was still a substantial balance in his Don't fuck this up fund.

Sugar told him she didn't know what guys did, but when girls had a breakup, they usually spent the next few days in bed with friends (to tell you what a jerk your ex is), ice cream (to eat your feelings) and a movie (probably the Notebook). That wasn't going to work, but it gave him an idea. He and Beat (the Warblers gaming expert) went to the mall. Two Play Stations and multiple (including the latest Marvel and Star Wars) games later, they moved on to the grocery store. Sam watched what he ate (obsessively) so he didn't know what ice cream to get. He bought them all along with everything he needed for a sundae bar.  

While took the haul back to Dalton, he went to Hummel's house to kidnap Blam. He thought the Oaf was going to swallow his tongue when he opened the door to see him standing there. It wasn't a picnic for him either.

Sam protested but Blaine convinced him to go with it. When they got to Dalton and saw the setup...2 large TVs with a game station on each, stacks and stacks of pizza, a wide variety of non-alcoholic beverages (the good stuff was for later) and a freezer full of ice cream...the McKinley boys were in complete shock.

"Sugar told me about the ice cream, Notebook, friends version of a post-breakup party, but Sam's a dude. I thought video games, junk food, ice cream and later, alcohol, sounded better. And for once, you're not going to scrutinize everything you eat. We'll deal with the aftermath, you know, after. And before you ask, I didn't invite anyone else from McKinley because Britt is their friend as well. Here, you can trash her all you want and nothing gets back to Satan."

As the Warblers took Sam under their wings, Blaine drug him to his dorm room and gave him the best blowjob of his life...times 10! Not that he expected it to happen but...holy shit! Maybe there was another way to woo Blaine Anderson.

But that was last week. Today was Valentine's Day. The creme de la creme of romantic holidays. All other wooing meant nothing if he didn't get this right. He knew it wasn't true, but it sure felt like it.

He honored Blaine's wishes and sent nothing to Mckinley. They agreed to meet at Dalton and he was pretty sure some of the guys were helping Blaine with something. It was driving him nuts. To make it worse, his Economics (his worse class) teacher noticed he was distracted and called on him constantly. Asshole!

When class ended, Jeff took one arm and Nick the other. Without explanation, they escorted him to the Conservatory on the other side of the Academy. Blaine was at the grand piano wearing the same outfit he was wearing when they first saw each other. He was even wearing the bowtie, which he didn't do as much anymore. 

When your legs don't work like they used to before And I can't sweep you off of your feet Will your mouth still remember the taste of my love? Will your eyes still smile from your cheeks?

And, darling, I will Be loving you 'til we're 70 And, baby, my heart Could still fall as hard at 23

And I'm thinking 'bout how People fall in love in mysterious ways Maybe just the touch of a hand Well, me, I fall in love with you every single day And I just wanna tell you I am

So, honey, now Take me into your loving arms Kiss me under the light of a thousand stars Place your head on my beating heart I'm thinking out loud

Maybe we found love right where we are

"Did you like it?"

"I loved it. You know Ed Sheeran is one of my favorites right now, but, isn't there more?"

Blaine picked up a gift sitting on the other side of him and brought it over. "I thought we'd save the rest of it for later."

He opened the box and... "Holy shit! These are front row! And backstage passes! How? I thought about this but he's not performing near here."

"I know, those are for his Boston show. It's during Spring Break. I thought we could go check out the campuses and surrounding area. It would be nice if we could find a coffee shop before we actually move there."

"Oh, wow, yeah. Wait a minute, your parents agreed to me and you going to Boston unchaperoned?"

"So, did yours."

"That's not surprising. They love you. I wouldn't be surprised if they find some apartments for us to check out while we're there." He leaned in to thank his boyfriend for the amazing gift when... "Seriously Killer, how did you get these? From what I've heard, he doesn't allow backstage passes unless he personally approved them."

"Cooper"

"Cooper? You're brother, Cooper?"

"When Ed first moved to LA he lived in the apartment across the hall from Coop. They became friends. Since my brother had never asked before, Ed was more than willing to help him out. However, this does mean I owe him a HUGE favor. I don't really want to think about it." Blaine went up on his toes and kissed him before taking a step back, obviously anticipating something. "Well?"

"Well? Oh, you want your gift." He reached into his messenger bag and handed his boyfriend a small box. "I hope you like it. I tried to remember everything you told me."

Blaine's blazing smile faded the moment he saw the contents of the box. "A chocolate bar and a plastic flower?"

"Rose. It's a rose. I remembered when you went on your original wooing rant, and you said you wanted someone who would give you chocolate and roses. And I hope you noticed it's white, not red or yellow."

"I noticed, but...I mean, I know I asked you to scale back, but it's Valentine's Day."

"And?"

"And what?"

He opened the calendar on his phone and showed it to his thoroughly confused boyfriend. "Today is Valentine's Day and the first day of Lent. Easter is early this year. Maybe next time you get a big idea, you should make sure of the details before implementing it."

It took a little bit of time before Blaine put it all together. "The Lent Challenge. You were supposed to stop with all the gifts for the Lent Challenge."

He tried hard to suppress the snark in his expression but couldn't. "I couldn't get you nothing..."

"Oh, no, this is great. You did exactly what I wanted."

"Excellent! Let's go to the Commons. I want to show the guys what my wonderful boyfriend got me for our first Valentine's Day." That was laying it on a bit thick, but he'd already gone this far. Blaine trying to smile and saying how much he loved the candy bar and dollar store flower was pretty pathetic. "That's strange" he said when they found the doors shut. "We've got practice in 20 minutes." He opened the doors and stood off to the side.

"Oh...my...God!" Blaine ran right past him. Inside the Commons were seven (one for each week they'd been boyfriends) bouquets of a dozen white roses. There were also a dozen handmade chocolate hearts from the best chocolatier in Paris. 

"Like I said. I remembered you wanted to be with someone who would give you chocolate and roses. I thought maybe you would forgive me this one..."

He couldn't finish the sentence when Koala Bear Blaine returned, kissing him with everything he could put into it. When it ended, there were tears on both their faces. He's never understood happy tears until Blaine came into his life. "Are you ok?"

"More than. And I promise, I will never question your wooing again."

20 Years Later

The noise of his husband and children carried up from the kitchen to his bedroom, even with the door closed. Sebastian was making Alexandra and Devon heart shaped pancakes as he had every year since they ate solid food. He always made sure not to go down to the kitchen until they were finished. This was a tradition between just the three of them. Sebastian also kept up the tradition of giving him chocolates and roses for Valentines Day. The most memorable was during their senior year of college. They flew to Paris so Sebastian could take him to the chocolatier who made the chocolates from the first year. Inside one of the hearts was an engagement ring.

He walked over to his dresser and pulled out a small box. It was the secret he hid from everyone, even the man he married. Inside were his two favorite possessions in the world…a chocolate bar wrapper and a plastic rose. The moment Sebastian explained the logic behind them, he knew he’d marry that boy someday. He had listened to him. He had paid attention. No one had done so in a very long time. THAT was the greatest gift he ever received.

"Daddy”

He quickly put back the box and turned to see 4 year-old Devon, the spitting image of his husband. They were in so much trouble in approximately 10 years. “What are you doing here Mr. Man? You know the rule about knocking.”

"Sorry Daddy, I’m xited.”

“That doesn't excuse not knocking. Now tell me, why are you excited?”

"Papa put choccy chips in the heart cakes! And he making flower cakes!”

“Chocolates and roses” he couldn't help but smile at the fact Sebastian was still a total romantic. He'd always been, it just took him a while to trust it. ”Wow, those sounds amazing!”

"Can you eat flower and heart choccy chip cakes with me and Ally and Papa?”

"Oh Sweetheart, pancakes are your Valentine tradition with only Ally and Papa.”

"But Papa says we can have new dition with you. But we has to do it three times or it’s a co…co…”

Killer, doing something two years in a row isn’t an annual tradition, it’s a coincidence. "The word is coincidence and your Papa is right, as usual. Let’s go start a new tradition.”

Thinking Out Loud: Sheeran, Ed 2014

[dustythewind]

It’s Christmas-time with the Winchesters, and Dean’s never seen so much freakin’ green stuff outside of what Sam shovels in his cake hole. Oh, and Jack? Yeah, he’s a bit....enthusiastic.

Jack had been reading about Christmas traditions. This was pretty much his first Christmas, since the previous December they’d all kinda been In A Bad Place and nobody’d had time even to acknowledge the holiday.

When Jack read something about mistletoe, he’d scurried down that rabbit hole and learned that not only was it tradition to kiss under the greenery, but also that it had been used to ward off demons and evil spirits, once upon a time. And the source had mentioned witchcraft. And he knew a witch. Personally. One he thought was nice, and had tried to save his life. So, of course, he called Rowena for her opinion on mistletoe.

Rowena being Rowena, and probably having Ulterior Motives as witches often do – even witches who are Trying to Reform and Do Good Things From Now On – played it up and encouraged Jack to hang mistletoe in every single doorway of the bunker, even those doorways which only opened upon a supply closet. She must have supplied the kid with piles of the plant as well as red velvet ribbon, because the bunker had a heck of a lot of doorways and archways, and a fancy-red-bowed bundle of the stuff was now hanging in EVERY. SINGLE. ONE. And after all of those were decorated, Jack had started hanging it in random places in the middle of rooms.

Rowena’s reasoning to Jack was, and I quote, “just for a wee bit of a backup, in case all that Men of Letters’ fancy complicated warding fails. Besides….who doesn’t like a bit of kissing during the holidays!” Dean didn’t know what her game was, but he didn’t like it, and wanted to make that clear.

“I don’t know what her game is, but I’m tellin’ ya man…I don’t like it,” Dean shared with whoever was within earshot, once he found out what was with “all the freakin’ green stuff every freakin’ where” because, of course Jack told him everything that Rowena had said. Jack’s honest that way.

Sam, the complete nerd, actually had the nerve to jump on Jack & Rowena’s Bandwagon of Crazy and say the mistletoe wasn’t a bad idea.

“Y’know, it’s not a bad idea,” began Sam. “And besides, it’s festive.” The giant moose shrugged. “It won’t hurt anything, as long as nobody decides to taste it, and it’s potentially helpful against Evil.”

“Well, it didn’t keep Rowena out. Or that 10-foot-tall green monstrosity in the library,” Dean countered.

“Rowena isn’t evil anymore, Dean. She’s been very helpful and you know it. And that’s a Christmas tree. You even helped decorate it.” Dean’s moose of a brother reminded him. “I especially like the angel tree topper with Castiel’s face pasted on. Any idea where THAT came from?”

Dean studied the floor, feet shuffling, and pretended he wasn’t blushing. Sam pretended he wasn’t noticing. He cleared his throat and continued.

“And anyway, Dean — why are you being such a Grinch? You’re the one who was always all gung-ho about Christmas when we were kids. Even when we had no reason to celebrate, you were always trying to get me excited about it. Besides, Jack loves it, and you agreed: we should all try to make Christmas nice for him.”

“Shut up and pour the damn eggnog before Jody and the girls get here. And don’t skimp on the rum this time,” the older Winchester changed the subject abruptly. Dean grumped off in search of someone to agree with him. Good thing he didn’t hold his breath.

**********

In Dean’s opinion, Jack was totally outta his mind crazy about the whole mistletoe thing. He went a bit psycho with Kissing People – any people – anyone at all – under it. The Apocalypse World hunters had mostly relocated to places of their own by now, so there were only ever a few of them around at any given time, coming by to check in with Chief, or re-up their supplies. Occasionally friends and fellow hunters they’d known forever stopped in. Whoever was there at any particular moment was apparently considered fair game by Jack. He’d taken to lurking in proximity of mistletoe, in hopes of jumping under the greenery just in time to meet someone under it. He’d flash them a huge smile and give ‘em a fast & friendly kiss on the cheek. Everyone just went along with it and laughed with Jack afterward. The kid’s joy was contagious.

During Jack’s first day of Decking the Halls, Jack surprised the crap outta Dean with a guerilla-attack mistletoe-kiss and garnered a “What the hell, kid?” in reaction. Jack’s crushed countenance while looking up at the mistletoe in confusion made Dean take a step back and apologize. He’d then hugged Jack and given the boy a quick fatherly peck on the forehead . Heck, it wasn’t even as if there was anyone else around to see, so no big deal, right?

In the next few days, to his own amazement, Dean had started giving spontaneous Doorway-Bro-Hugs, and even the occasional Completely Manly and Not Girly at All kiss on the forehead to anyone who wasn’t eighteen feet tall. So, Sammy just got a lot of hugs. Who could even reach that forehead for a kiss, anyway?

When Dean hugged Cas for the third time, he quickly (but shyly) kissed the angel just above his left eye. Cas responded by “booping” Dean on the nose, grinning widely as he did. Dean turned as red as the bow on the mistletoe above them. After that, Dean went with just the hug, while Cas surreptitiously kissed him on his cheek, or ear, or his shoulder – wherever his mouth was closest to while Dean held him tight for another extended hug. If anyone noticed that Dean/Cas hugs lasted for a much longer time than anyone else’s, they said nothing. At least, not around Dean or Cas.

On one of the increasingly more frequent times when Rowena found a reason to be around, she seemed to always be passing through doorways at the same exact time as Sam or Cas with uncanny frequency. And of course, her kisses were smack on the mouth and somewhat…thorough. While Sam didn’t seem to mind her kisses AT ALL, Cas reverted to the Awkward Angel the Winchesters had first met, and usually took to standing in Dean’s personal space or hiding in a locked room whenever Rowena was in the bunker. The witch knew better than to attempt any such shenanigans with Dean.

Everyone who was around the Winchesters long enough had learned what a great cook Dean was. Of course, he made killer burgers and steaks, but after years of making do in motel kitchenettes just to keep Sammy and himself fed while Dad was hunting, Dean could work some serious mojo when he had a Real Kitchen. Those motels had never had an oven, so Dean had never learned to bake anything. Not even a freakin’ pie.

So, Dean decided that part of a “nice Christmas for Jack” should include a few kinds of made-from-scratch Christmas cookies and at least two kinds of pie. Because, PIE, am I right? Jack eagerly became Dean’s apprentice pastry chef as they learned together, researching Baking Basics and Christmas Cookie recipes, leaving the usual monster lore to Sam. Once Dean mastered pie crusts, there was no stopping him. In addition to the cookies, Dean produced a different kind of pie every day. There had never been so many sweets in the bunker at one time.

And where there are sweets, one should never be surprised to find a Trickster.

Two days before Christmas, Sam ran smack into Gabriel, who was coming out of the kitchen, his mouth full of Christmas cookies. Gabriel fumbled for a minute keep hold of the half-gone pecan pie in his hands. He’d clearly found the aerosol can of whipped cream in the fridge, as it was generously covered in perfect peaks of fluffiness.

“Hey, Samshine!” the Apparently Not Dead Archangel greeted with a snarky grin.

In the next moment, something rare occurred. Something rarer than resurrection of the dead, at least when Winchesters were concerned.

Sam Winchester was speechless for two entire minutes.

Then he began to sputter about “But You Died” and “I saw Michael kill you” and “Apocalypse World” before grabbing the short angel in a fierce hug, lifting him off his feet like he weighed nothing. “How are you here?”

Somehow the pie was still balanced in the archangel’s hand.

Smirking, Gabriel replied, “Hashtag Not Dead.”

Sam rolled his eyes but couldn’t keep the smile from his face as he set Gabe back on the floor. “Well. Obviously. But HOW? You died. In another dimension.”

“A trickster never tells, dude. Don’t look a gift archangel in the mouth,” Gabriel grinned.

He looked up as if only just now noticing the mistletoe above their heads.

The pecan pie dropped to the floor, somehow right-side up and intact, the whipped cream on top still looking perfect.

“Pucker up, Samsquatch.”

Hey there, here’s a bit of non-angsty Supernatural Christmas fluff I wrote about 5 years ago. I’m going to post the link but then reblog and paste the full text. Reblogs on tumblr and Comments either here or on AO3 would make my day. I miss writing but my mojo is gone and I can’t fit in time to get back in the groove. And yesterday our internet crapped out. Probably won’t get it back until sometime after Christmas. Ho ho freakin ho.

Please read Freakin Mistletoe 🎄

[buckyalpine]

Spicy Plants

18+ Minors dni

Stoned/ high Bucky x reader, reader x avengers (platonic) 

A/N: Bucky being an adorable high goofball. This video inspired one of my favorite Bucky’s, also Sebastian is a treasure. Changed up the storyline from the movies to suit this better, everyone is alive and well. Please like, comment, reblog <3

Warnings: drug use (marijuana), fluff 

Word count: 700

“Holyy shit….”

The team stood at the edge of the kitchen watching the most magnificent scene unfold before them. Sam, who was previously ready to crash into bed the second they got off the jet, was now very wide awake. Nat cocked eyebrow, more studying exactly what she was looking at than judging.

Tony was grinning wildly, his phone whipped out, and pressing record immediately. He made sure he got footage on both his phone and suit. You and Steve stood wide eyed, jaws gaping; this had to be some shit Thanos pulled. Multiverse variants and all that because how in the fuck…

“Is he okay?” Clint frowned, genuinely concerned about what he was looking at.

“Hes…y/n come get your man” Sam was wheezing, nearly doubling over trying to contain his laugh so the super soldier wouldn’t notice.

I want your love was blasting through the kitchen speakers and in the middle of it all was Bucky, pumping his arms, twirling and jumping as if he was the main character in High School Musical. His hips swayed from side to side as he whipped his head wildly, his fluffy hair bouncing each time he threw it back. God he was so adorable.

“Bucky….” You cautiously approached your boyfriend, biting back a laugh as he continued to flail his arms, not noticing anyone watching him.

“Who the hell is Bucky” He whipped around, not stopping his movements, continuing to jump and spin his head dangerously close to the lights that hung above him.

“God, I’ve heard that before” Steve groaned, rubbing his temples remembering the last time his friend said those words. Though he wasn’t sure which moment between this or that was more traumatizing.

“OWW” Bucky smacked his head on the light fixture, only acknowledging the pain much later, rubbing his head as he continued to bounce and sway.

“Baby….come here” You cupped his face, face as he slowed his movements though not stopping, still hopping slightly as you tried to get him to look at you. His eyes were glazed, eye lids heavy, giving you a goofy smile. You giggled, shaking your head knowing exactly why he was acting this way, clearly stoned out of his mind.

“Hi” Bucky grinned at you, taking your hands to dance with him, picking you up and placing you onto the kitchen counter. “Where did you go peanut?” He smushed your cheeks together making your lips pout as he giggled.

“We wur o a isson” You struggled to speak as he continued to giggle, squeezing your face in his hands.

“Oh no. Peanut. You’re having a stroke” Bucky held your face firmly, his eyes wide as his mind did mental gymnastics trying to understand what you said. Before you could say anything, his face lit up as if he had the greatest epiphany in his life.

“What if…what if we just shoved Scott up Thanos’s ass. And then let him grow super big and then boom. Bloowwww Thanos up. Why did no one think of that, hm? Why didn’t the wizard give us that option. I’m brilliant as fuck”

Tony howled from the side as Sam continued to wheeze clutching his stomach.

Bucky had let go of you, now rummaging through the cabinets for a snack, setting out ingredients for what could only be a monstrosity of a sandwich.

“Bucky, baby did you go into my stash” You held back a smirk, knowing that is exactly what he did. The effects of drugs affected Bucky differently than alcohol; he was much more relaxed but also much more loopy.

“What stash y/n” Bucky looked at you, batting his eyes as if he had no idea what you were referring to.

“The weed you goof, how much did you smoke?”

“I didn’t do anything” Bucky shook his head, adding marshmallows on top of the potato chip and gummy bear sandwich.

“Really?” You shook your head, “so you’re not high out of your mind on drugs?”

“When did Bucky ever do drugs?” Bucky looked at you, his eyes wide as he gave you his best puppy pout. You stared at him as he spoke in third person, “Bucky had some spicy plants, that’s all”

“Spicy plants?”

“Yep. Spicy plants”

[omg-just-peachy]

I wish u would write a fic where… sambucky are being super domestic and softies and cooking dinner and having a soft movie night in (lots of soft kisses of course) 💞

"I can get this," Bucky says, stretching his arms out wide as he nods down at the dishes. "You go relax, you're exhausted. Start deciding which movie you're going to inflict on me tonight," he teases.

Sam does look exhausted, and if the way he's favoring his right side is any indication, sore, too, from his latest mission with Natasha.

He pauses, and Bucky can tell Sam's about to deflect, offer to help clean up anyway, but before Bucky can wave him off, Sam gives a nod that's almost bashful and retreats to the living room muttering something about warming up the couch.

Smiling, Bucky rinses plates and sets them in the dishwasher, done with clean up duty in a matter of minutes. Satisfied, he grabs one of the dark chocolate raspberry bars he'd picked up earlier and brings it into the living room with him. The chocolate is Sam's favorite, from a small shop a few miles outside of town, one he rarely gets to go to even when he's home, and Bucky's happy he thought of it.

When he gets to the living room, the lamp is on its dimmest setting, and Sam is already stretched out along the couch, long limbs loose against the cushions, eyes already halfway closed. Bucky smiles to himself, crossing the room to join him. He sets the chocolate down on the coffee table, and grins when he watches Sam's face light up with recognition.

"Is that..."

"The one and only," Bucky nods. "In case you want something sweet later. Well, sweeter than me," he adds, wiggling his eyebrows as Sam rolls his eyes and laughs. "Room for one more?"

"He cleans and he brings me chocolate? You really missed me, huh?" Sam asks. His voice is light, teasing, but the look in his eyes is all soft, grateful affection.

"I really did," Bucky says. He studies Sam for a second longer and then nods to himself, a decision made.

"What are you doing—"

But before Sam can finish the question, Bucky's snugged himself in beside him on the couch, half resting on Sam's good side, the other half on the couch. He tugs down a blanket from the back of the couch — an oversized, crocheted monstrosity courtesy of the very retired Steve Rogers— and pulls it over them both. He gives a long, content sigh, fairly certain that there's literally nowhere else in the world he'd rather be right now than tucked up with Sam like this.

"No, really, make yourself comfortable," Sam says, smiling into the kiss he presses to Bucky's lips.

"Don't mind if I do." Bucky kisses him back, warm and slow. There'd be time for more later, in bed tonight, tomorrow, the next day... Sam would be home for a good few weeks, and the promise of their regular routine fills Bucky with gratitude all over again.

"You gonna pick a movie or what?" Bucky asks. He peppers kisses along Sam's jaw line, grinning when he feels Sam smile beneath him.

"How can I when you got me cocooned up like this? I can barely move my arms," Sam points out.

Bucky hums, considering this. "We don't need a movie," he decides. "Got you right where I want you."

"Is that so?" Sam yawns.

Bucky nods, nipping at Sam's lips before wrapping his arms around Sam's waist and resting his head on his chest.

"Y'know, you're right," Sam says when they're settled. "We don't need a movie."

The warm lamplight and the distant sounds of crickets and cicadas envelope them where they lay, and Bucky tucks a smile into Sam's t-shirt. He, for one, has everything he needs right here.

[boykingsofhell]

HBO SPN ASK GAME

Sam’s eyes flash yellow when you’re not looking. Piercing lamplight across sinking graves in swampland. Do you meet his eyes? Do you fear him?

Dean’s got twelve tattoos and counting, creeping out of shirt sleeves and snaking down long arms. He got the first one a year after John Winchester died. What do they look like?

Don’t tell Castiel his wings are phasing again. Don’t let him know he’s slipping. Are his wings ugly or beautiful? How?

Lucifer whispers to Sam in the early hours of the morning long after Cas took hell from him. What is he saying from the other side of the bed?

Sam and Dean’s scars are so numerous they’re overlapping, skin rough and patterned and rippling with unforgotten pain. Tell me about your favourite.

Sam carries a sharpened rosary and a handgun, an old photo of Jess crumpled beneath three one dollar bills for when he yet again forgets her face. He doesn’t carry a wallet. What else does Sam keep on him?

Mary whispers through the vents of the Impala long after she’s dead. Scraps of white nightgown get caught on all the sharp points between seats. Sam and Dean listen for her beneath the blare of their father’s rock music. What do they hear?

Cas’ eyes haven’t glowed blue in a long time but they haven’t stopped glowing either. What colour do you see, waking up to God’s angel watching over you? Don’t think about what made them this way.

Sam cuts scrapes his knee tumbling at age nine and doesn’t bleed red. What does Dean do? What does John do?

You can cure vampirism but you can’t cure the instincts. Tell me about Dean, bloody-steak-red-meat man promising himself he’s fine. Tell me all the way’s he’s not fine.

Sam wakes up soulless and feels nothing but relief at the cool earth beneath his fingers. Does he know his soul is trapped in hell? Does he want it back?

When Sam is eleven he recoils from the holy water at pastor Jim’s. What else makes him unholy? What else can’t he touch?

Sam doesn’t belong at Stanford and he knows it. Too many knives and not enough friends, grin sharp and alluring in a way he doesn’t notice. He studies harder and calls it penance, please, let him belong. He takes long walks at 3am and doesn’t return for days. Where does he go?

Twelve-year-old Dean gives his little brother beer when he can’t sleep. John notices the missing bottles and doesn’t care. What else doesn’t Dean tell John? What other secrets does he fail to keep?

A hundred years in hell and Enochian is more familiar to Sam than English will ever be again. When he cries out at night it’s in a language Dean doesn’t recognise. What is he mumbling that only Cas understands, averting his eyes because he speaks Enochian like the devil. Tell me something about Sam that Dean can never understand.

Sam and Dean have always been homeless, but hbo spn makes sure the viewers know it too. Tell me about Sam and Dean sleeping on the side of the road because all the motels were full. Tell me about looking for coins under the seats of the Impala for the washing machines and coming up short. Tell me something I don’t know.

Dean keeps his father’s jacket longer than he wants to, hides it in the bottom of a duffel where he knows Sam won’t look. What does he do with it when Sam does find it anyway?

Jack is born wrong and he knows it, tearing his mother apart with a violence he doesn’t mean. Wings drag heavy on the ground, eyes glowing gold and he can’t shut them off. He can’t leave the bunker during the day. Sam and Dean and Cas know what it is to be monstrous. What do they tell him, that comes from such bitter experience?

Demons can’t turn their black eyes off, teeth stained black by demonic smoke and mouths more like maws. Sunglasses and lipstick are essentials, and the brothers can’t help flinching whenever they see someone sporting both. What’s another tell for possession, and how does it affect Sam and Dean?

Demon blood isn’t the only addiction either of the brother’s have, Dean, who’s smoked a pack a day since his father’s death and Sam who picked up worse habits at college he never managed to shake. Does this make Dean more sympathetic to Sam’s demon blood addiction? Less? Does he still lock Sam in the panic room? Does he lock Sam in with himself?

Dean hates his father’s music and listens to it anyway. What does he wish he could leave behind? What music can he hear and not think of his father? (yes this is an excuse to drop your hbo spn playlists)

Angels are never quite there, vessels vibrating and flickering with the strain of holding their host. The smell of ozone portends their arrival. Tell me how the angels are viewed differently, closer to monstrosity and further from God?

Dean comes back in Lazarus Rising but he comes back wrong. He’s been in hell too long for it not to leave a scar of its own. Tell me what’s different.

Chuck who’s forgotten he’s God, who relearns divinity through angels and learns to fear them faster. Does he rebecome God? Does the song remain the same?

Free space: tell me a hbo headcanon for any character!

[deascheck]

Problem Solved

Prompt: "Whatever that thing is, it is not what we are looking for so, Dean put it down immediately! Cas stop fooling around like an idiot, and Sam, what the hell are you even doing?"

Summary: The reader’s hands are full when Dean, Sam, and Cas are all affected by an object cursed by the witch they’re hunting.

Word Count: 1553

Trigger warnings: Death, brief mention of blood

A/N: Would love to know what you think! Comments and reblogs are amazing!

Edited by @winchest09

--------

You glanced at Sam as he picked the lock with nimble, practiced fingers. A slight smile ghosted across your face as you checked the yard and surrounding properties for any witnesses. There wasn’t a lock that Sam couldn’t pick. 

Dean and Cas had split off and gone around back. The house was huge, with cameras everywhere. The property was thick with flowers and plants surrounding the house, making it easy for the two large men to hide as they worked their way over to the security box. 

The lock clicked, and you and Sam crept forward through the door. Guns drawn, you moved around each other with practiced ease. Thanks to Dean’s ungodly ability to flirt, the four of you had gotten blueprints of the house and had memorized them down to the last brick. You moved swiftly to the upstairs, followed by Sam. 

You knew the witch was home – you had seen her arrive. Stealth was key in this case. She’d killed eight people with hex bags already. They were gruesome, horrible deaths, and you wanted her dead like you’d never wanted anyone dead before. 

Once Dean and Cas had cleared the downstairs, they joined you and Sam upstairs. You peeled off towards the bedrooms with Dean, and Cas joined Sam. The hallways were dark, and there were nine doors to check behind. As Dean entered the master bedroom, you spared a glance over your shoulder towards the other two before you went with him. 

As you finished clearing it, trying not to bump into the bed, dresser, desk, or table, you heard a strange thump and then a yell. 

You and Dean barreled out of the room and down the hall. You skidded to a stop when you reached the open doorway and stared. Dean all but ran into you as his sprint was halted by your body blocking the door.

Cas had a stupidly silly smile spread across his face, and was dancing around in big circles with his hands waving in the air. Whereas, Sam had his mouth wide open and was measuring with his hands how big it was. 

Almost as soon as you’d taken in the ridiculous scene, Dean knocked you into the doorframe as he shoved forward, eager to figure out what was going on. He grabbed some sort of ancient looking scroll from Cas’s hand, and almost immediately started mirroring Sam’s actions.

“Dean!” you whispered angrily. “Dean, whatever that thing is, it’s not what we’re here for! Cas, stop fooling around like an idiot! And Sam, dude, what the hell are you even doing!?” You couldn’t believe you had this to deal with now. You had three men who were currently no better than children, and a dangerous witch you still hadn’t seen. 

Backing away, you shut the door quickly, hoping to contain the noise that Sam, Dean, and Cas were all making. With these circumstances, you’d do better against the witch on your own, which still didn’t mean things would go well.

As you turned around, you came face to face with a very smug looking woman. She had brown hair slightly past her shoulders, had a pretty, long face, and looked like she knew how to handle herself. It was the witch herself, Elizabeth.

“Shit,” you managed to get out before attempting to take a shot at her with your gun. She knocked it from your hands as you fired, spinning you into the wall. You retaliated by launching up and taking a swing at her with a mean right hook. She ducked, and you recovered quickly, doing your best to keep your back to the wall. The two of you fought your way down the hall. The blows and kicks were vicious, and you knew this wouldn’t end unless one of you was dead. If you could keep her busy enough to not say any incantations, you figured you might have a chance to extend your life by a few minutes, but without your gun, you weren’t sure how in the hell you were going to kill her.

The fight wore on, and it was becoming apparent that you were at a disadvantage. Primarily because Elizabeth knew the house best. Even having memorized the blueprints, there was a difference between studying the layout of a house and living in it. She knew when there was a corner to throw you against, a table to flip you over, curtains to tangle you in. You’d never admit it, but you were starting to wonder if she was in better shape than you. Being a hunter, you had your fair share of fights, but you’d always had Sam or Dean to come help take out whatever monstrosity you were fighting with.

With a loud smash, you went flying over the kitchen counter and hit the fridge with considerable force. As you lay on the ground, slightly stunned, you fisted your hands angrily, your fingers closing around something which caused you to glance down. It was a knife. 

You quickly scrambled to your feet with a maniacal grin across your face. Elizabeth advanced and you launched yourself at her, the knife coming into her view too late. You ran the blade right through her neck, forcing it through her windpipe and into the spinal vertebrae. Elizabeth’s eyes went wide, and her mouth moved like she was trying to speak. But instead of words leaving her mouth, it was blood. As crimson liquid dripped down from her mouth, you heard another commotion coming down the hall. Sam was weaving around in the hallway, smashing into the walls as hard as he could as he walked, chuckling stupidly. You sprinted over to him while the witch was in shock from your attack. You reached behind Sam’s waist to grab his gun, which was filled with witch-killing bullets. 

You heard her gurgle as you spun around and fired without hesitation. Elizabeth stared at you lifelessly before dropping to the floor. You smiled grimly at her and then kicked her hard with your booted foot. 

“That’s for the innocent people you killed, you bitch.”

You watched her for a minute, and then realized you weren’t hearing any stupid noises from Sam. You turned to look his way and saw him looking proudly at you. “Well done, Y/N. I can’t believe you killed her by yourself!” 

“Yeah, well, I can’t believe you let yourself get cursed when you knew we were in a witch’s house,” you teased.

As the beating you took stared to cause your body to ache something awful, you thought, Shit, this is gonna hurt tomorrow. 

Groaning to yourself, you walked back upstairs with Sam to find out what had befallen Dean and Cas. You opened the door, and immediately was knocked off your feet by two well built men falling out of the door.

All of you let out grunts and “oof”s as the three of you landed in a pile on the floor. Immediately on top of you was Dean. You looked at each other in surprise and relief. 

Both of you started talking at the same time. “What the fuck are you doing?” “How’re you still alive?” He laughed as you chuckled weakly. 

“Get off me you big lugs,” you moaned. They got up good-naturedly and looked at Sam, waiting to be told how the spell was broken.

Sam responded to their expectant looks by saying, “The only thing I can think of is that Elizabeth had cursed the scroll herself to cause whoever touched it to lose some sanity. But since it ended, I’m assuming that curse was tied to her life force.” He looked pensive and then shrugged. “I mean, kinda rare, but I’ll take it.”

Taking their pause as a cue, you spoke proudly, “I killed her.” Dean and Cas looked at you in shock. Continuing smugly, you said, “I mean, she was kicking my ass, let’s be real. But she made the mistake of throwing me over the kitchen counter.. By the knives.” You paused briefly to give them a knowing look and then kept going with your story. “So, I hit the fridge, and as I made a fist - cause man, am I pissed now! - my hand closes on a silver knife. How lucky was that!” You laughed. “I grab the knife, and launch myself at her before she can attack first. Got her right in the windpipe. Then Sam, who somehow got out of the room I shut y’all in, wandered right into my lap with his witch-killing bullets. Problem solved.” 

Sam gave you a hug and helped you up. “I’m sorry we weren’t able to help you, Y/N.” He looked at you proudly, but behind his eyes you could see guilt warring with pride.

“We’re proud of you, Y/N! Couldn’t have done it better ourselves,” Dean said, “C’mere!” He reached for you and grabbed you in a big bear hug. Squished against him, barely able to breath, you peeked over his shoulder, and saw Cas smiling softly at you. 

You extracted yourself from Dean’s hug, as much as you loved the rare moment, and gave Cas his turn. He let you go quickly, since he was still a bit of an awkward hugger. You chuckled, and said firmly, “Let’s go home, shall we?”

[q-gorgeous]

My Hero

fanfiction

ao3

What happens when Dash finds out about Danny's secret during the events of Micro Management? prompt by @ectopal

word count: 1573

IGNORE THE HORRIBLE TITLE bjhg the only other one i thought of was an ed edd n eddy themed title but clearly that doesnt work for danny phantom jnbhgv

“I gotcha!”

Dash stared up at his hero as he struggled to hold him up, dangling off of the monstrosity that sat on top of the Fenton’s roof while he was the size of an ant. Phantom’s eyes were squeezed shut as he held on tight to Dash’s wrist. 

Phantom’s appearance had been changing ever so slightly as he lost his powers after being hit by a Fenton device, so when a bright white ring appeared around the ghost’s waist, he hoped it would mean that his powers were returning. 

But instead of giving back any of his ghostly abilities, the ring traveled up and down his body. Phantom’s eyes shot open and he gasped, looking down at himself. White hair was replaced by raven black and the Phantom t-shirt turned into Danny Fenton’s signature tee that he wore everyday. 

His head lifted up and Danny Fenton’s blue eyes met Dash’s and he felt his stomach drop. 

Thoughts started spiraling through his head.

What the fuck. The kid I wail on everyday is my hero who’s trying so hard to make sure I don’t die. Why is he doing this?

Rockets flew past Dash’s back and into the metal above Danny’s head. A determined look that was normally worn by Phantom appeared on his face. 

“One, two, three!” 

Danny heaved Dash up onto the windowsill. 

Dash sucked in a couple deep breaths as he watched Danny run over and try to open the window next to them. 

Danny Fenton was Danny Phantom. 

QQQQQ

He still couldn’t believe it. 

Danny Phantom, Dash’s hero, transformed into Danny Fenton right before his very eyes. Saved his life! He had millions of questions but ever since they unshrunk themselves and Danny flew him back to the sidewalk, he had the gall. The audacity. To not even talk to Dash. 

What was even worse was that Danny sat right in front of him in their english class. He ignored everything Dash did to get his attention. Kicking the back of his seat. Tapping on his shoulder. Pulling on his hair. 

Dash huffed and rested his chin in his hand. He didn’t know why Fenton wouldn’t talk to him. 

He looks over to the side and sees two of his classmates exchanging notes. The girl who opened it blushed and scribbled something down before passing it back. 

Brain blasting, Dash ripped off a piece of his notebook paper and scribbled a smiley face on it. He threw it over Danny’s shoulder and onto his desk. Only a few seconds went by before he threw it back over his shoulder and into Dash’s face. He frowned.

Dash aggressively scribbled four more smiley faces and threw all five pieces of paper over Danny’s shoulder again.

Danny sighed and finally, finally turned around to face Dash, a scowl on his face. 

“What do you want Dash?”

“I think you know what I want.” Dash pointed a finger at Danny. “I wanna talk about the other day.”

“Dash-” Danny started but he was interrupted.

“No. I know what you’re going to say. But you can’t just drop something on me like that, accidental or not, and just. Ignore it.”

“I don’t have to talk to you about anything. It’s none of your business.”

Dash groaned and laid his head against his desk. “But I’m so curious.”

“Why? Why do you even care? I’m just the kid you beat up everyday.”

“But you’re apparently also my hero.” Dash mumbled into his elbow.

He could just feel Danny staring into the top of his head.

“Okay.”

“What?” Dash lifted his eyes up to look at Danny who was still staring.

“I’ll talk to you about whatever it is that you want to talk about.”

Dash bolted up in his seat, mouth forming an O shape before he started trying to shoot off a question. Before he could finish, Danny was waving a hand in his face.

“Not here! There’s too many people around. If you meet me outside during lunch we can talk about it then.”

Dash closed his mouth and nodded his head. After a moment he threw another smiley face at Danny.

QQQQQ

Dash walked outside the front doors of the school and looked around. After a bit, he saw Danny sitting on top of the picnic table surrounded by some trees. He walked over and cleared his throat.

“Hey.”

Danny turned around to face Dash, an apple in his hand. He took a bite of it and started talking with his mouth full.

“Charming.” Dash sat down on the bench of the picnic table. 

“What can I say.” Danny shrugged. After taking another bite of his apple, Danny looked down at Dash from where he sat on the table, an apprehensive expression on his face. “So, uh, what did you want to talk about?”

Dash fidgeted with his hands. “You’ve only been like this since freshman year? When Phantom first started showing up all over the place?”

“Yes.”

“How did it happen?”

He saw Danny tense up out of the corner of his eye so he looked up at him. Danny was looking anywhere but at Dash and he brought a hand up to rub at the back of his neck.

“Uh, usually our deaths are a touchy subject for ghosts but.” Danny lifted his shirt just high enough so Dash could see a trail of lichtenberg scars. “It was my accident I had before the school year started. Sam and Tucker were over and we were messing with the ghost portal because it didn’t work and they convinced me to go inside. I tripped on something in the portal and my hand hit the power button and…” 

“Oh my god.” Dash paled. “That must’ve been terrible.”

“Yeah. It was.”

Silence settled over them again after that. 

“Sam and Tucker were there. That must mean they know, right?” Dash asked softly.

“Yep.” Danny started scratching something into the surface of the picnic table. 

“Does anyone else know?”

“Just Jazz. And all the ghosts. But they never tell anyone so it’s fine.”

Dash gawked at him. “All the ghosts? All of your enemies know your secret identity?!”

“Yeah, but they’re not snitches.”

“Danny!” Dash shouted. “What if they told your parents? Or the other ghost hunters?”

Danny shrugged. “They haven’t yet. I’m not sure why, but they never go that far.”

Dash placed his head in his hands. “They have a weird sense of camaraderie then considering they’re always trying to kill you.”

Danny just shrugged again. 

Slowly lifting his head back up, Dash looked at Danny. “Can I see?”

Danny’s brows furrowed. “See what?”

“You change, your transformation, whatever you call it.”

They stared at each other for a moment before Danny took a deep breath.

“Okay. But no recording it or anything. Your phone has to stay away.”

“I wasn’t even thinking of recording it!” Dash exclaimed. 

Danny stood up and hopped off the picnic table. He walked a few steps away and turned to face Dash, his feet spread apart and his hands in fists at his side. He closed his eyes. 

“I’m going ghost!”

Dash watched in awe as a white ring appeared around Danny’s waist, illuminating his face and his hair as it traveled up and down his body. Soon it disappeared and all that was left was Phantom.

“Woah.”

Danny did some jazz hands. “Tada. That’s how I transform, but you already sort of knew that.” He floated so that he was laying on his stomach in the air.

Dash was still too busy studying Danny in his ghost form. He never believed that Fenton and Phantom looked so alike before but now that he knew it was impossible not to see it. He was broken out of his thoughts by a hand waving in his face.

“Did you have any other questions?” Danny asked.

“Uh, maybe just one more.” Dash said sheepishly. “Can you show me some of your powers? Oh! Like your ghostly wail?”

Danny scrunched his nose up. “That’s for emergencies only. The ghostly wail would take out all these trees and the parking lot.”

Dash’s shoulders slumped.

“But.” Danny continued. “I can show you this one.”

Looking back up, Dash saw Danny cupping his hands together. A blue blow shined inside them and when Danny opened them back up an ice crystal was in his hand. He held it out to Dash and he took it. 

Looking at it, Dash saw that the ice didn’t melt at his touch even though it was cold. He looked up at Danny with a puzzled expression on his face.

“Ghost ice. It follows its own laws of chemistry.”

Dash nodded even though that didn’t give him any sort of answer. He tried to hand the crystal back to Danny. “Here.”

Danny shook his head. “Nah, you can keep it. It shouldn’t melt or anything.”

Looking back down at the crystal, he stared at it for a moment before stuffing it safely in his pocket. He opened his mouth to say something but the bell rang.

“Well.” Danny said, the rings appearing around his waist again and turning him back to normal. “Time to go back to class.”

He started walking away and Dash watched him go. He took a deep breath before jogging to catch up with him. 

“Hey! Let me walk with you. We have our next class together.”

Danny smiled and together they entered the school.

[finalgirlsamwinchester]

to round out tonight's humphris-gamble spiral: the 2.14 exorcism as an almost prophetic play-by-play of 4.21, with both episodes featuring the dean-bobby familial unit bringing a monstrous sam back under control (meg, earlier in 2.14: 'meg? no. not anymore. i'm sam'). and the different parting glances between sam and bobby here. bobby's wary, assessing look in 2.14 vs. the 'what's become of you' face he's making in 4.21. sam's anxious smile in 2.14, seeking reassurance, vs. his look of worn down despair post-panic room in 4.21. a sam who still hopes that his monstrosity might be treated as something external to himself, a demon to be exorcised vs. a sam face-to-face with the barrel of a gun, knowing that he is The Monster in this story (dean in 4.21 later telling him, 'it's what you are').

[expectingtofly]

Not-So-Easy-Bake Oven, 2k

Established Dean/Cas, Toddler Jack, Fluff without Plot

day 3 of @thiscastielhasflown and i's follower celebration

prompt: baking

“Petzel, petzel, petzel!” Jack chanted, banging a tiny plastic whisk on the table. He wore a kid's apron decorated with bumblebees, dotted black lines twisting and curving to show the bees' crisscrossing flights.

“Alright, buddy, give me a sec,” Dean said, pouring a bag of dry pretzel mix into a bowl. Charlie had bought Jack an Easy-Bake Oven for his fourth birthday, and this was their first time using it and its soft pretzel making kit—much to Jack’s excitement.

Cas came over from the sink with the kit’s measuring cup filled with water. “Wanna pour?” he asked Jack. He steadied Jack’s hand as he took the cup and poured it into the bowl. “Now it’s time to mix.”

He lifted Jack up to kneel on the table, and, gripping his whisk in one fist, Jack began stirring the mix and water together—if jabbing the bowl could be called stirring.

Dean opened the oven, checking to see if it was working. Already pretty warm for a squat bright pink appliance. “Woulda killed for something like this when I was younger.” He looked at the inside of his wrist. “Used to have a pretty nasty scar from when I tried making Sam brownies in some janky motel oven.”

“You should’ve never been left unattended in the kitchen at such a young age,” Cas griped, grabbing the bowl before it careened over the table's edge from Jack’s vigorous stirring. “You could’ve seriously hurt yourself. If I ever meet John…”

Dean grinned. “He’s lucky he never met you.”

“Exactly.”

"Done," Jack announced, dropping the whisk. Dean raised an eyebrow at the bowl where the mix was only half-combined, dry powder still clinging to the bowl.

"Looks good, kid," he told him, and picked up the flimsy pink whisk to finish stirring.

Jack protested, though, grabbing his hand. "Done!"

"It just needs a little more," Dean told him. "Look, it's not totally mixed."

"Hey, Jack," Cas said. "Help me pick out stuff to put in our pretzels." Successfully distracted, Jack clambered over to him and Cas carried him to the pantry.

Dean finished stirring the mix quickly. "Good choice," he heard Cas say and looked over to see him grabbing a bottle of soy sauce. Oh boy.

The oven chimed, announcing it was pre-heated, and Dean stared at the lumpy excuse for dough in the bowl. Maybe it’d look more appetizing when cooked.

"Chocolate chips, pepper, raisins, oregano," Cas listed, coming over and setting various items down on the table.

"Uhh." Dean stared at the box of corn flakes Jack carried over to the table, nearly as big as his torso. He couldn't figure out which items were Cas’ choice and which were Jack's suggestions. "Not really sure all this goes together."

"You never know," Cas said, picking Jack up and standing him on a chair.

He might not've known for sure, but he was pretty sure he could guess. "Alright, well." He dumped the dough onto the table and divided it into small sections. "Time to experiment, I guess."

Cas sprinkled flour on the table so they could roll out the dough, but before he could even close the bag, Jack smacked his hand down on the table, sending a cloud of flour into the air.

Cas coughed, waving flour away from his face and Jack cackled, one palm dusted white. Dean laughed at Cas, until Jack leaned over and swiped at his t-shirt.

"Dude, seriously?" Dean asked him, brushing his shirt off. Jack only laughed, clapping his hands to send more flour floating in the air. "How ‘bout you put the flour to good use?" Placing a small ball of dough in front of Jack, he propped up the box that the mix had come in and studied the instructions for forming a pretzel shape.

"So first you roll the dough out into a rope," he said, following along with the pictures. "Then you form it into a u-shape." He glanced at Jack to see if he was paying any attention, but Jack seemed more interested in rolling the dough around the table and through the flour. Then he yelped, staring at his hands in bewilderment.

"I'm messy," he said, staring at the dough sticking to his fingers. He held them up to Cas, who told him.

"You have to get your hands dirty." Taking one of the balls of dough, he poured some chocolate chips on it and began rolling them into the dough. "Look at Daddy."

Jack looked over at Dean, just as his dough rope tore in two. "Dammit." He balled the dough back together. “Let’s try that again.”

Before he could try, though, Jack started clamoring for the corn flakes, so Dean set a handful of the cereal on the table. "I think this is gonna mess up the baking times," he said, skimming the back of the box. "Recipe doesn't say anything about adding extra shit."

"This is a child's baking oven. It's supposed to foster fun and creativity." Cas nodded at the box.

Dean turned the box around. Fun for the whole family! it read along with a photo of perfectly formed pretzels. At the bottom, it also read, "Ages 8 and up." Ah. So maybe a little advanced for a four year old.

Corn flakes went flying and Dean dodged one shooting towards his eye. Oblivious, Jack continued crushing the cereal with the flat of his hand, a gleeful smile on his face.

"Yup, uh, good enough," Dean said quickly, grabbing Jack's hands.

"No!" Jack yelled, trying to get out of his grip.

"Take the oregano," Dean said quickly, hoping for a distraction. It worked, except now he had to hand over the container and watch Jack sprinkle the herb all over the near vicinity. Maybe he could pass off clean-up duty to Cas, who was making his own mess, adding food dye to his dough to make a swirl of purple and pink.

He helped Jack combine the corn flakes and oregano into the dough, then roll it out into a rope. Cupping Jack's hands, he guided him through curving the rope of dough into a U-shape, crossing the two ends twice, then pulling them over to make a rough pretzel shape.

“Hey, not too bad.” Pulling out his phone, he took a photo. "Smile for Charlie, Jack."

Jack held up the pretzel, effectively warping the shape, and grinned at the camera. "I make one for Auntie," he declared when Dean lowered the phone, and grabbed more dough to form his own pretzel.

“How did you do that?” Cas asked, studying the box. Going to him, Dean did the same thing he’d did with Jack, standing behind him and holding his hands to help him form a pretzel shape. Cas' fingers were dusted with flour, and Dean got a bit distracted by the way Cas leaned back against him, letting him guide him into creating a pretty decent pretzel. Not as perfect as the ones on the box, but close enough.

“I think I’ve got it,” Cas said, grabbing more dough and forming another pretzel in two easy swoops. Okay, way better than the one before.

“Did you just trick me into helping you?” Dean asked, pulling away from him slightly.

Cas tilted his head into him. “Mhm.”

Dean rolled his eyes but kissed his neck anyway.

Several tries and several more mishaps later, and they had a few semi-recognizable pretzels. Some they dipped into a cinnamon sugar glaze that came with the kit, others they placed as is into small, pink, round dishes.

“They go in here and cook for ten minutes,” Cas instructed, helping Jack push the dishes inside the oven. Jack peered into the opening, then back at Cas and Dean.

“Done now?”

“Gonna be a long ten minutes,” Dean said, setting the timer.

They tried to clean up as the pretzels cooked, though Jack was covered in so much flour, food dye, and dough that he left a trail wherever he moved. And he would not stop moving. As Dean tried to wipe down the table, Jack ran loops around the island, and when Cas tried sweeping, Jack decided to start spinning around in the middle of the kitchen until he fell over. Then do it all over again.

“If he has this much energy now, what the hell’s he gonna be like when you give him a chocolate chip pretzel?” Dean asked Cas, putting the oregano and soy sauce back. He had no idea which pretzel Cas had slipped the sauce into and was not eager to find out.

“That may have been an oversight on my part,” Cas admitted. The oven beeped and Jack rushed to the table.

“Petzel!” he began chanting again.

"Don't touch," Dean warned, using a tool from the kit to pull the dishes out of the oven and place them on the table.

“Which one do you want to try first?” Cas asked Jack, who took a moment to study the pretzels before pointing to the purple and pink one—or what was once those colors but had now taken on a more bloody appearance.

"It's pretty," he said.

“Yes, it is,” Cas agreed, transferring the pretzels onto a plate. Dean turned off the oven, then startled when Jack began crying.

“Hot!” Jack cried, pointing at the dish Dean had told him not to touch. In hindsight, he should’ve realized the temptation would’ve been too much to resist.

“Let me see,” Cas said, taking Jack’s hand.

“No, it hurt,” Jack cried, trying to pull his hand away.

“Alright, alright.” Scooping Jack up, Dean carried him over to the sink and turned on the cold water. When he held Jack’s hand under the stream, Jack squirmed, trying to get away.

“Cold!” he yelled.

“I’m trying to help, dude,” Dean told him. “This’ll make it feel better.” More startled than hurt, it seemed, Jack calmed down after a few seconds. Turning off the water, Dean studied his finger. Not even a blister, but he nodded at Cas. “Think Dada can help?”

Jack nodded and held out his finger to Cas. "Booboo.” Cas took his tiny hand and kissed his finger.

“Are you too injured to eat a pretzel?” he asked.

“No!” Jack yelled, suddenly all energy again, squirming out of Dean’s grasp. Dean set him down and he ran to the table, clambering on a chair to grab the purple/pink monstrosity of a pretzel.

“Try one,” Cas told Dean, joining Jack and pushing over the plate.

Dean grimaced, but chose the cinnamon sugar and corn flake one. Why that was even a combination was beyond him. Bracing himself, he took a bite. Okay. Dry. Pretty bland. Crunchy which was just wrong, but not horrible—wait. He took that back. Oregano and cinnamon sugar did not go well together.

"Um. Well.” He choked down the rest of the bite and set the pretzel back on the plate. “These are, uh..."

"Not good," Cas finished. He squinted at his own pretzel, then took another hesitant bite. Instantly, his face screwed up, and he shook his head, dropping the pretzel onto the plate. “It seems you were right. Soy sauce, pepper, and raisins do not mix."

“Who would’ve thought?” Dean deadpanned. Jack munched happily on his pretzel, cinnamon sugar covering his chubby cheeks. “Someone’s enjoying them, at least.”

“For Charlie,” Jack announced, pointing at one of the pretzels on the plate.

“She’ll love a day-old pretzel,” Dean told him.

“Yes, she will,” Cas said, giving Dean a look. He pushed Jack’s hair back from his face. “It’s the thought that counts.”

Jack abandoned the colorful pretzel for the chocolate chip one, then the corn flake one. True to his word, he left one untouched on the plate for Charlie. She would get a kick out of it when she visited. I knew he'd love it!! she'd responded to the photo Dean had sent her of Jack holding up a pretzel.

“This was fun,” Cas said, a smile on his face, watching Jack.

“Yeah.” Dean looked over at the mess of bowls and dishes in the sink and back at the flour streaked table. Making a fist over his open palm, he said, “Loser has to clean.”

Cas straightened, a competitive gleam in his eye. “Agreed.”

“Rock, paper, scissors, shoot.” Cas threw scissors and Dean threw paper.

“Dammit,” he exclaimed. “You always do rock.”

Cas grinned. “And so I conditioned you to think I’d do it now.”

“Christ, when’d you get so conniving?” He got up and asked Jack, “You wanna help your old man clean?”

“No, tank you,” Jack replied.

“‘Least he was polite,” Cas said.

“Good luck getting him down for a nap later.”

“Why’s that my job now?”

“Sorry,” Dean turned on the water to start scrubbing the bowls. “Can’t hear you over all the cleaning I’m doing.”

Cas rolled his eyes. Dean grinned when Jack offered him a bite of his pretzel and Cas had to act like he enjoyed it. Turning back to the sink, he grabbed the sponge. This was a lot of fun.

[prophetmutual]

i've been thinking abt this and it's such a specific, nothing gripe with the cws spn, a show with many demonstrable problems, BUT i live to complain SO I think sam studying law at college being such a throwaway fact about him that hardly comes up later (and was clearly just chosen to make sam sound smart) bothers me specifically because it would be so easy to tie it to his character. The only reason we get for sam wanting to study is to have a safer life. And that's great, a character from a family defined by violence wanting to get away from that is an interesting dynamic! but it feels like only half the story? like why this specific field of study? what did he want out of his major? for most ppl thats a rlly huge decision & says something abt their skills/priorities/dreams

& the thing is, sam has an innate sense of justice; its important that when the show does its moments of clumsy and deeply problematic exploration of monstrosity/otherness, sam is the one to most consistently argue that Monsters arent necessarily inherently evil. In one ep he says "we're not going to kill him until he does something to get killed for" (in metamorphosis i think?) and, ideological problems with the white dude mains being judgejuryexecutioner aside, that sounds a lot like "innocent until proven guilty"? This kid who's felt guilty/unclean/evil most of his life, is he drawn to a system where people are (supposed to be) presumed the opposite because he finds the idea comforting? because he wants to defend the powerless in the same way that when he starts hunting he gets fulfilment from 'saving people'? But for all the impact it has on the rest of the show & his characterisation, outside of a few throwaway lines, sam could have been studying any other 'fancy' sounding field and it wouldn't have made a difference. i just think its a shame!

[nieladasdenani]

supercorp promt lena going over all the times kara/supergirl saved her life and how many ways shed be dead without her and realizing all the times kara/supergirl stood up for her/defended her in public and private and how she would have been treated like a luthor and put in jail without her help and just coming to the realization that kara didnt use her like she said she did because kara would not do all that if she had been using her and just all around having a big impact realization about it

Hello and thank you, Anon! This will be a challenge because I have seen very little of the show since season 3 and none of the last season whatsoever. All my knowledge comes from Tumblr posts. And because I have strong opinions of how the reveal was handled by both canon and part of fandom. So I hope it still meets your expectations.

You can read it in AO3 if you rather.

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

Lena’s hand trembles as she reaches for the bottle, so she clenches it in a tight fist and tries to take a deep breath to calm her mounting anxiety, though it doesn’t seem to have any effect. A sense of paranoia has her focusing her attention on the office door, expecting to hear the thunderous sound of trained boots rushing to get her, but nothing meets her ears. She sighs and tries to breathe deeper again. Then chances a look over her left shoulder at the balcony door, wide open, like a dare... or an invitation. If she turns completely, she’d be facing her desk, and on top of it lays Myriad, inactive. She knows she should have gone to Lex’s lair, where Hope in Eve’s body awaits to complete the mission. Would she be worried Lena hasn’t arrived? Confused?

“But, Miss Luthor, I am not your friend.” Lena scoffs at the memory and snatches the bottle and a glass.

“Neither was the person whose face you’re wearing, so I guess the integration was flawless.”

She drains the first glass of whiskey entirely in the first gulp and sits heavily on her pristine white couch. Mistake. There, on the floor, is the framed, cracked picture showing her smiling face, impossibly close to Kara’s own radiant expression. A stark difference to the one she was wearing when Lena left her in an iced kryptonite cell, inside her piece of home away from home: terrified, devastated. Some call it karma... Others call it revenge.

“Lena, please.”

Lena sighs again and closes her eyes after pouring a second glass, that she holds loosely in her right hand. Both her elbows rest on her knees, and her head hangs low. Was Kara scared for National City, the world? Or was she afraid Lena’s trap would kill her?

“Are you going to kill me now?”

Was she scared of Lena or for Lena? No doubt the DEO has a dark, hidden dungeon waiting just for her, where they can lock her in isolation, like her demented brother was before he escaped and wrecked havoc. Before she killed him... Of course Kara would be fine. Lena made sure the trap was safe. That the kryptonite was non-lethal. She made sure of it. It’s still an alien radioactive substance, though. No, no, she made sure. She studied Lex’s journals exhaustively. She’s working for good.

“I’m not a villain. You shouldn’t have treated me like one.”

So why does it feel like she’s doing something wrong? Non Nocere was conceived to remove one of humanity’s biggest flaws, to remove one of the primary reasons for suffering. She’s doing it for the greater good. She’s doing a good thing. So, why is she here and not finishing it up? Maybe because deep down she knows that, no matter how good her intentions, this is not the way, deceiving everyone to achieve her goal.-Using Kara. -Like she used me! -Did she? -Yes! She lied for years! -Do you realize you’re trying to convince yourself of this?

Lena’s whole head hurts from how hard she’s clenching her jaw. Kara lied for years. A Super and a Luthor. She must have been using her, why else would she have lied for so long? Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, and all that. The Luthor way. Making sure Lena walked the line. Saving your life, protecting you. Enough! Lena shakes her head again, harder, to silence the voice inside. It works, so she closes her eyes and sighs.

Then images start flashing: A helicopter spinning out of control towards the ground. The pilot unconscious, limp next to her. Bracing for a certain death that never comes.

“You’re safe now.”

Feeling suddenly sick. Knowing too late that something’s wrong with the coffee. Someone has posioned her and succeded at it. She clinging to consciousness, barely, dreaming of Kara saving her. Taking her in her arms and flying her up to safety.

“You were flying, and you were carrying me.”

Lena determined to protect Kara as they both face Mercy inside L Corp. They somehow managed to avoid the rain of bullets from the intruders and are now trapped in the labs with the armed enemy. But Lena’s armed too. She’l protect Kara, who seems eager to leave, which confuses Lena, she’s seen Kara square up to people before, especially to stand up for Lena. But she let’s her leave, she’ll be safer anyway. And then Supergirl is there, neutralizing Mercy in the blink of an eye.

“The Luthor name doesn’t deserve Lena.”

A half machine half man monstrosity trying to storm her newly rebranded company. She, braving an attempt at defense. An enormous metallic representation of said rebranding flying towards her, promising a sure, painful and fast death. She, bracing for the impact that never comes. Looking through her hands to see the Girl of Steel stumbling from the force of protecting Lena from it.

“Get out of here.”

She confronting Edge, who poisoned children in an attempt at getting back to Lena. She almost going through with killing him. Instead getting knocked out and strapped onto a doomed plane. Not only is she going to die, all her work to be good would be erased, her reputation. But, once more, it doesn’t come.

“No, I’m not going to drop you!”

Kara, sweet and dorky, suddenly stony facing Detective Sawyer, who’s come to take Lena into custody. Conviction in her blue eyes, sure of Lena’s innocence. Willing to face off with her sister’s girlfriend over it. Lena shocked at the protective display.

“Hold on, Maggie. Slow down. Just, let her explain.”

Supergirl trying to warn her of her mother’s terrorist endeavors. Not as in warning Lena to stir clear of it. Not as in warning her that she’s being watched. But as if to telling her to be careful, that she may be in danger. As if telling her Supergirl herself will protect her, if she’d let her.

“Be your own hero.”

She deliberatedly jumping off a cliff, after facing off with a terrorist organization. Pushing the buttom on the watch Kara gave her, to protect her, alway. With not a trace of doubt in her system that Kara would come to her rescue. Feeling the power of the lasers coming out of Kara’s eyes.

“What was that?”

Lena falling from her office balcony, thinking of her fear of heights, her fear of flying. Thinking of Kara listening to her falling to her death after a couple of her mother’s goons accidentally toppled her. Clutching to Kara’s voice as the last thing she hears. Until arms of steel catch her and making it feel like falling onto a cloud. Freezing breath rushing past her face, and still feeling warm.

“Dropped something?”

“I was having coffee with Kara Danvers.”

Lena, flanked by the Danvers Sisters coming into a dream realm to confront Sam’s demons. A monster wearing Sam’s face attacking them, lifting Lena by the neck, threateing to break it.

“Let her go! Take me, take me instead, please!”

Being kidnapped onto an alien ship. And invader alien ship. Almost forced to get married, to Kara’s boyfriend, no less. Getting rescued by Supergirl. Joining forces with her mom, who had previously joined forces with Supergirl, both putting their difference aside to save Lena. Creating a device that would eradicate the invading threat, but that included Kara’s love. Kara, devastated, but reassuring Lena that it was not her fault, that she did what she had to.

“Lena, you helped Supergirl save the world.”

Kidnapped by her mother, after being framed. Used to get to Lex’s arsenal of anti-alien weaponry. Supergirl crashing the site, knowingly risking her safety with Lilian, Metallo and Cyborg Superman surrounded by weapons designed to defeat a Kryptonian. Supergirl on her knees, in pain. Warning them of the risk of Metallo’s unstable kryptonite’s core. A potential explosion that could kill her. And still staying to carry Lena out of there, just in the nick of time.

“Kara Danvers believes in you.”

“You’re good, Lena.”

“So, my office is overflown with flowers.”

“That’s what friends are for.”

“I’ve never had friends like you.”

“I trust you.”

“Supergirl might have saved me. But you, Kara Danvers, you are my hero.”

Lena’s gasping, just now realizes she’s crying. What have I done? But there’s no time to think about it further. A crash coming from her balcony captures her attention, and she stands, drink still in hand, tears still rolling down her face. Supergirl struggles to keep upright: she’s pale, panting. Her eyes, as wild as her hair, searching her surroundings, until they find Lena. And it’s palpable how the relief fills Kara. Her shoulders sag and her eyes close.

“Lena.”

But Lena has not gotten over Supergirl, Kara’s state. And then she sees her hands. There’s blood and bruises there. There’s blood on Kara’s hands. Lena can’t take her eyes of the damaged limbs. She takes a couple of steps towards the hero.

“You’re bleeding.”

Kara seems to not have heard her. She looks at Myriad and lingers there. As if she’s trying to see through it. But can’t. She’s helping herself stay standing by bracing one shoulder on the balcony door. Turns to Lena again.

“Please, Lena. Don’t do this. Please.”

“Kara, you’re bleeding.”

“If you do this, Lena, if you do this there’s no going back.”

“Why are you bleeding?”

“Not like, for humanity. We’d be able to fix that. We’ve done it before. With Myriad. But for you, Lena. You’ll be devastated when your anger subsides.”

“Kara.”

“Please, Lena, you’ve worked so hard to leave your family’s bad name behind. It’ll be so much harder to come back if you do this.”

“Kara, stop.”

“No, no. You gotta listen. You can’t do this! It will hurt you!”

“Kara. You are bleeding!”

“What?” And finally, she looks down. At her hands. “Oh.”

Lena closes the distance between them. Takes Kara’s hands in hers. Inspects the damage. Her mind racing to understand what she’s seeing. Kara is Supergirl, she should not be bleeding. Now Lena can see that Kara is also shivering. From exertion or cold, Lena isn’t sure. Both, maybe. She’s still catching her breath.

“You punched your way out.” She says this and looks up at Kara’s face, she knows her eyes are wide with shock and her mouth is, too. A little. Lilian would be appalled. “Kara, why? The trap would have turned off in a couple of hours. I would never...”

“I know. I know but... it was so tight in there.”

“Tight?”

“The space was so small.”

“Oh. Oh! You’re... Are you claustrophobic?” Oh, no. No.

Kara shrugs, looks sideways at the desk. At Myriad. But she’s not trying to contain Lena, to restrain her. She’s not rushing to take Myriad, either. She’s trusting Lena to do listen, to do what’s right.

“Why? Kara why didn’t you... I didn’t know. I didn’t know if I would have. I would’ve not put you in there,”

“We both did things. Lena, I promise. I’ve only lied about my secret identity. And I know there’s no excuse, but I have plenty. And I’ll tell you all of them when you’re ready to hear them. But, please, you have to believe me: I never lied about us. I swear I was not using you. You must believe me, Lena, please!”

“I think I do, now. I’m... I’m still hurt and angry. But, I know. I realize you didn’t need to work so hard on protecting me. From experience, I know that masks fall faster than that. I was just... Hearing i from Lex, while I killed him was overpowering.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I gave him the chance to take that away from us. I’m sorry that yet again I was robbed of the opportunity to tell someone I love. And that it gave him such a way to hurt you. I’m sorry that it made you feel used and unloved. I love you Lena. I love you.”

Lena’s vision is blurry with tears. And it gets worse when Kara’s words paint a smile on Lena’s face. At some point she has dragged Kara to the couch, have them both sat down, and she’s yet to let go of the hero’s bruised hands.

“You do?”

“I do. Of course I do. I love you. I’d say it as much as you’d need.”

“Hold on.”

Lena stands despite Kara’s throughly confused expression. She raches for the first aid kit in the bathroom and sits back next to Kara. Starts tending to the wonds, a little worried that hey don’t seem to be healing by themselves. But not wanting to draw attention to it. Kara watches her work in silence, with the occasional flinch or hiss of pain.

“You may want to reconsider your offer. I don’t think I’ll ever tired of you saying it.”

Kara looks lost for a second, until her face clears of all confusion. She smiles.

“I don’t have a problem with that.”

“I’m going to have to work on myself and my issues, though. Before we can really start to explore our relationship. In whichever form you’re willing to have it.”

“I’ll have to work on my issues, too. And we’ll work together on our relationship. I’ll have whatever you’rewilling to give me.”

And Lena almost says I’ll give you everything out loud. She finishes up tending to Kara’s wounds. And sighs.

“When should I expect the DEO to come and get me?” Kara frowns at her.

“Why would they come and get you?”

“I imagine Alex wants my head after wha I did?”

“Ales doesn’t know.” But Lena’s is too shocked to respond. “We’ll go and stop everything about the Non Nocere project. You’ll get Hope out of Eve, and we’ll deliver her to the authorities. Then we’ll all work together to stop Leviathan. Then, maybe after we worked through our stuff anough, we can tell the story as a funny story.”

“There’s not one funny thing about what’s happened.” Lena deadpans, because...

“I’m sure I can make it funny. I’m charming like that.” And Lena loves her cocky side. Lena loves all of her sides, she’s come to realize.

“Yes, you’re hilarious.”

Kara’s phone goes off before she can sass back and Lena can hear Alex voice through the speaker.

“Kara, finally. I was getting worried I couldn’t reach you or Lena.”

“We’re ok.” She says while holding her eyes to Lena’s. “I told her.” There’s a sigh on the other end of the call. Not dissapointed, nor angry. Just a sigh.

“Ok. I know you’ve wanted to tell her for a while. And I know you feel like your secret affects more than just you, Kara. But it’s ultimately yours to share. We’ve all have done it for you enough times. I also know you’re worried about the DEO trapping Lena with the excuse of confidentiality. But I promise you I won’t let that happen. How did she take it?”

“Well... I mean, she’s hurt. And I think we’re goin to have to work that out. But...” She let’s the sentence hang for a second, looking at Lena, who nods. “But, we’ll be all right.”

“I know you guys will. Now, enough sentimentality. What about the plan?”

“We found Eve, we’re about to intercept her and bringing her into cosudy. Then we can start working on the rest of the bad guys.”

“Sounds like a plan. I’ll see you guys soon. Would you need back-up?”

“No, we’ve got it.” She ends the call and stands, walking towards the balcony. Lena stays put, an eyebrow lifting in amussement.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“To get Eve? Hope? Both?”

“We’re not flying, Kara. You can barely walk.” She can see Kara about to argue, so she activates the portal and gestures to it, expectantly.  “Shall we?”

“Show-off.” Kara grumbles as she walks through it and Lena and her laugh follow her. Yes, they’ll be all right.

[mymadmedleyw]

Fic Writer Review

I was tagged by @dp-marvel94 (I am just saying this is my very first occassion to by tagged in a thing like that, so filling this made my day really, thank you!)

1) How many works do you have on AO3?

22 – wow, that sounds many…

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?  

206.997, and more than the half belongs under one idea – that’s creepy…

3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?  

Oh, it’s many… once, I am into something, I have to write in that – surprisingly I am addicted to DP for nearly a year, and nothing else.

(But little bit of history, from the newest to the oldest: Danny Phantom, The Irregulars (that was really a short one), Guardians of Childhood/Rise of the Guardians (my very first finished multi-chaptered one was in that), Dark, Charmed (the old one, not the new series), Gravity Falls, Venom, Doctor Who, a crossover within Tangled: The Series and Milo Murphy’s Law, Death Note/Death Note: Another Note; and I had some ideas about a Rick and Morty and Gravity Falls crossover, and it seems I never uploaded here my concept about a not crossover Tangled: The Series idea, and either an independent one in Rick and Morty, hm… shame. Most of those are not finished. Okay, like 99% of it…)

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Core (Danny Phantom), stand-alone, ~3k

What The Past Holds (Danny Phantom), wip, ~91k

Pitch’s Secret (Guardians of Childhood/Rise of the Guardians), finished, ~14k

We are not alone (Venom), really short one, ~1k

Phantom (Danny Phantom), stand-alone, ~2k

5. Which of your fic do you want more attention for?  

Definitely it’s WTPH. It’s my current work. The idea about it came in December, and since that, I am working on that constantly. At first, I had ideas for eight chapters, and nothing else. Now, it grew into this monstrosity: a side-line (Bonds Over Time), and a collection that contains the deleted scenes or ideas that appeared in my mind and could fit into the story (Bits Of The Past), and also an entirely finished concept for Vlad’s past (Certain Moment Of Time), that could be connected to it too.

I also put many headcanons in that, and ticks of characters, and parallels, and layers that I just love: like Vlad having a sister and some details about his family background, Dan having Vlad’s memories too, how the explosion in the Nasty Burger happened and how Dan turned out like that… some precious things, really, but I won’t elaborate much, in case of anyone wants to give a read to it. Overall, I tried to make the TUE-mess into a somewhat more reasonable logical mess – if I managed to do that at all. I don’t know I’m just like a mother with a new-born with it: look, it’s my child! I made it! I developed it! here, hold it! and love it too, as much as I do! (Sorry, I don’t know how that metaphor came…)

6. Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Even if it’s a kudo, or a keysmash as a comment, I write back. I mean, if someone writes – literally anything – and spends time with it, I write them back too. (And my very bad habit, that sometimes, if the comment hits an interesting thought, I tend to explain the background behind that more, and accidentally spilling some things I shouldn’t yet... In many cases, it’s like a brainstorming, and then I use that idea. I mean as, for example many of @dp-marvel94’s comments on ff, made me to realise some things, and how then I fixed those forgotten parts made my story along with it much better – once, I will list them, and you’ll be surprised how long is that list, and how obvious things I forgot about entirely…)

7. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Okay, I don’t have many finished story – shame on me. So, I’ll count the shorts. I think it’s then Phantom. It rolls around the idea what if in Forever Phantom, Danny can’t change back to Phantom, and his parents blame Phantom for the disappearance of Danny, and they start chasing madly the ghosts, making them leave the human realm once and for all – which means, Danny has to go with them. It’s really a short fic, but I very like this idea, and it was my very first in this fandom. (I was watching DP that time, I mean, getting familiar with it, but this idea got stuck in my head as I watched that episode, so that was my introduction here. Also, I watched my very first DP episode that time, which means, less then a year ago, so, I am that newbie here…) I am not spilling the end of the story, but it doesn’t have a very happy end I could say.

8. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Uh, yes? I have a crossover within Tangled: The Series and Milo Murphy’s Law. It’s unfinished, but that time I thought Milo and Varian have the same vibe, including clumsiness. It was only a short idea that time, but it’s definitely worth once to continue or finish somehow. I have a crossover within Rick and Morty, and Gravity Falls. That is standing within my very big idea, but it’s halfway written on my original language and English and that’s like after how a certain trilogy end, but it has some mentioning of ideas I never finished, so yeah��� it’s not even published anywhere. Maybe, once, I’ll decide what language I prefer for that, and translate the other part and then, hardly, but I’ll finish it some day... – or, never, it actually would be a very big bite if I try to imagine it.

9. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

I don’t remember to that. I mean, my main story (WTPH) kind of not everyone’s preference, ’cause of Dan, so that’s already divides the readers and I haven’t got all in all many comments yet on my stories (kudos are appreciated too, I am shy too to leave comments on fics, so don’t worry, I get it), so I think I haven’t got any. But I'd be curious to experience if someone reads one of my stories and leaves behind a comment that then criticizing it. I mean, I’d be open to learn what part is not fitting, or just too much. (I am surprised that no one ever mentioned my ’weird’ sentences. I mean for me those make sense, but those make sense for a native English person too? I’m always worried about that…)

10. Do you write smut? if so what kind?

Uh, yeah, I did. Not very proud of it, though I don’t have a heart to orphan that work. I mean, it belongs to me too. Sometimes I wonder to delete some of my works, but then I realise, no, that’s me, I won’t pretend where I came from, and shove into the dustbin my mad thoughts... All in all, my stories now, for a while, are much more family-friendly – if, anything within DP could be really counted as ‘family-friendly’…

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yeah, I was very proud of my story back then, called Metamorphosis (Death Note), and I had a crazy idea and tried to translate it. So now, the first chapter is out there both in English and both in my native language, but I got stuck at the second chapter. I couldn’t translate wisely and logically the title of it to give out the many meaning it has in English. And I once tried to translate California (Gravity Falls) to English, but that would be a hard work, so I left it behind – maybe once…

Over that I sometimes has a crazy idea to translate back and forth my stories, no, beyond that, I haven’t had a fic translated from anyone else. And I think I am the only masochist that it ever crosses my mind, I guess…

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, not really. I’d be curious to once do that – maybe, but I’m not sure...

(To tell the truth, I’d be worried about that. I’d be glad to do that once, but I am anxious if I could understand my co-writer, or not. I mean, do you have any idea that I have to give five reads to any longer comments to understand it? I understand those (and I really love getting those!), but I have to give many reads to make sure I understand those well, and then, making sure, I answer back right, and my sentences make sense. My fics have ’fancy’ words, and I love working in English, but sometimes it’s a curse it’s not my native one. So then, I’m constantly worried about interactions, if I receive well something, and if my sentences are understandable for others or not. So, in short, you can see my struggle here… same reason I don’t do Invisobang, but I am considering it...)

13. What’s your all time favorite ship?

I’m not very much a ship-type. But I count Danny and Sam, as a fix point. (Danny and Val was nice and I’d have been very glad to see them in more episodes, but let’s face it, that wouldn’t work, because both of them are too stubborn to choose their other life and if once, they would face with each other, knowing everything about the other, they’d remain allies or at most very good friends.) If, the question is, what are the ships in my head (but not necessarily just ‘romantic’) that I prefer to read, well, it’s Dan and Valerie. I love their dynamics, especially in Deliverance. I don’t know why I just love reading it. 

For other reasons I ship Dani and Valerie. Though I can’t write romance and stuff like that, but in one of my planned ideas they are dating - sort-of...

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Okay, there are many. Surely, it’s my Gravity Falls story, called California, but that’s a huge one, and the first one in a trilogy (plus some additional side-lines), and mainly in my head for years, so yeah… I think I won’t ever reasonably finish that as it should be finished. A Tale of Fords (Gravity Falls) could be count as one too. Oh, and Envision and ties (Doctor Who). Sad to say, but yeah, I am always saying, “maybe once”, but I am not sure when…

15. What are your writing strengths?

Okay, this is a funny thing, but I’ve realised I can’t deal with many characters at the same time. So, I think my strength are dialogues and interactions within two people. And I get into their thoughts, so I guess if I have to word it somehow: it’s character-studies then.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

Can’t handle more than two people. No, seriously, somehow it always turns out, the third is unconscious, sleeping, leaves the room, and so on. I’ve just recognised it recently, and it was a hilarious recognition…

I am also bad at actions, like very very bad, I don’t even try that, because my brain just simple can’t come up with fight-scenes at all. I think I only can write character-studies, and nothing else.

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

Oh, man… does it count I am not a native English-user? So, technically I ‘always’ write dialogues in another language? But jokes aside, sometimes, I have ideas that the people use another language, and I am like “are you aware, you can’t even write English slang?”, so then, I gave up. Right now, though, I am planning to add ASL in one of my future ideas. I am wrecking my mind, how to do that nicely – but that’s only a forming plan, and dated for next year, currently, I am only collecting ideas for that.

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?  

Does it count my very first fic was a fanfiction of one of my friend’s fanfiction in high school? She wrote a really good story – not shared anywhere, we were just giving each other the hand-written exercise book (oh, the old days…). If I remember well, it was a crossover within Supernatural and Queen of the Damned (the movie, not the book). I had no idea about Supernatural, but the story was good, but I was not satisfied with the end, and in secret I wrote another end for it, to myself. I’m not sure where is that anymore, but I clearly remember that was my very first written stuff, and that’s how my origin story began and how is I am here now.

(Oh, and once, I wrote a H2O fanfiction short story to my sister as a name-day present, in which she was a mermaid, discovering her powers during a holiday at a beach (we were at that time in Croatia in a family holiday, so the timing was fitting), and that was one of my very first fandoms to write in it too… God, I have no idea why I wrote it down, it just crossed my mind, and I remember I thought it was cute, I think she was eleven or twelve that time, so I am not sure she appreciated as much as I found it fun to write that…)

19. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?  

This is mean… anyway, currently it’s WTPH, for obvious reasons. But I am very proud how the Angst Week turned out (my work for that is called Certain Moment of Time). First of all, I doubted I would be able to write for every day, since I planned to do the whole DannyMay, but things turned out differently and I am still sad, I haven’t done many. But I did not just managed to write for all days, but all could be counted under one idea, and also each of the chapters could be read independently at the same time. It includes a little bit of background story about Vlad, about a rewritten time, his struggles at the hospital, things around Danny’s birth, how Danny managed to survive the Portal incident, how Vlad was informed about the Ghost Boy, and that actually Danny’s separation was just a ‘plan B’ that Vlad tried to avoid… it’s complicated to describe the many things in that, but when I feel WTPH an unescapable mess, and I am frustrated by the lack of proper words to finish the coming chapters, CMOT is my absolute favourite. And I love the whole idea about it. No, I’ll be honest, that’s my beloved so far (just because it’s finished). But I like so much too my idea about Dan and Dani in Bonds Over Time, how they try to live together a normal life… okay, let’s admit it, this question is mean, I seriously can’t tell, and I am thinking right now only my current ones…

20. What fic are you most proud of?  

Okay, this is mean too. I am proud of my old works as much that I always go back to them when I am in a nostalgic mode. (I haven’t read any of my old ones in ages, because I try to avoid distractions, and knowing myself, I’d start thinking about the continuation and never finishing my current works at all...)

I am proud of Pitch’s Secret, because that was my very first multi-chaptered one idea that I actually managed to finish. That in fact, gave me the courage to start working on a multi-chaptered DP one. (My original plan was to be brave and aim doing eight chapters, to top the five, and I would have been very proud of myself, but instead now it’s way longer than that original idea, and I seriously don’t know when it will end – twenty chapters maybe?)

I think, if I don’t include the previous question. (It’s the same, isn’t it?) I am very proud of the first chapter in my Doctor Who fic. That doesn’t tell anything about the plot or about anything, that just gives a very good atmospheric background. Every time I read that, it gives me shivers.

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okay, I don’t know who to tag, anyone who feels like it, serve yourself, I am curious... :)