#so i might have to make turkey which is not my favorite

[sergeantpixie]

could not sleep because i hadn’t finished planning my thanksgiving menu, is this adulthood?

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

conrad thanksgiving fic please!!

This has been in my drafts for a long time...sorry. I might delete later, I don't really like it. It's not giving what I wanted it to...

Request: You’ve done Conrad dating a Haley James type of character, what about a Blair Waldorf type character? Old money, fiercely strong, rich, and outspoken. She and Belly would NOT get along, at all. He takes her to Thanksgiving dinner and Susannah is still there and she loves her

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—

Thanksgiving had always been a massive celebration in your family. Every year, your parents would go all out and host a dinner with their closest friends and their families. Your mother would direct the caterer team and make sure everything was perfect before the guests’ arrival. At the end the meal by having a slice of your father’s infamous pumpkin pie — which was your personal favorite part. 

This year, Thanksgiving was going to be different. Your father was in Paris for business and your mother somewhere in Europe, expanding her collection of vintage designer handbags. Had you not been in college, you would have happily joined her.

‘’Why don’t you come with me to Boston?’’ Conrad asked as you watched him pack a bag for the weekend.  ‘’My mom keeps asking me when she’ll get to meet you.’’ 

The thought of spending Thanksgiving alone had been looming over you, and Conrad's invitation was like a ray of light. 

A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips. ‘’You told your mother about me?’’

‘’Not really,’’ Conrad explained, picking another sweater and adding it into his bag. ‘’She heard your voice when she called the other day and Jeremiah told her all about you. He’s such a big mouth...’’ He shook his head, wishing his brother could hold his tongue sometimes. 

Susannah was ecstatic to have another guest for dinner. It was on very short notice and most of the preparations were already done when Conrad informed her of your addition to the table, but she would never pass up an opportunity to meet her Connie’s new girlfriend.  

When you and Conrad walked in, Susannah was all over you, complimenting your dress and how gorgeous you looked. You were quick to return her compliments, pointing out how her eyes looked exactly like Conrad's.

You met the other guests — Conrad’s father and brother, then Laurel and her kids —, and all were surprised by who Conrad had brought home. No one ever expected him to date someone born of old money. He’s dated Nicole, but she was nowhere as rich as your family. 

‘’Look at this amazing table,’’ Susannah said as she brought in the turkey, looking very proud of herself. ‘’Martha Stewart can kiss my ass!’’

Your eyes went wide for a short second, not expecting such words from her. She looked so sweet and delicate. 

Conrad shook his head at his mother, happy to see her being herself again. 

Everyone got seated, then Susannah spoke again. ‘’Before we eat, let’s go around the table and say one thing that we’re thankful for. Jere Bear, you can start.’’  

You lifted your eyes at Jeremiah across the table, who looked nothing like his brother. If you hadn’t known, you would never have guessed they were related. 

‘’I’m thankful for my mom,’’ the younger Fisher began, ‘’who reconsidered trying this new treatment for us. I don’t know what I would do without you, Mom.’’ He glanced at his mother, his eyes shiny with unshed tears. 

Susannah squeezed his hand over the table while everyone was trying to not get emotional. 

Conrad had told you about his mother’s breast cancer having come back in the spring. He tried to hide her sickness from you, but when you found him crying in his dorm on a Saturday afternoon, you knew something wasn’t okay. It was a tough subject for the entire family — especially since it was the second time she was going through this. For that, Susannah didn’t like to talk about cancer. She didn’t want her whole life to revolve around it just because a nasty tumor had returned in her body. She wanted to live her life the way it’s always been…and take a few more sitting breaks when needed.

In turn, the other guests said what they were thankful for. It went from Steven getting a car for his birthday to Belly becoming captain of her school’s volley-ball team and Laurel being a typical mom and being thankful for her children. 

‘’Connie, it’s your turn,’’ Susannah said, motioning to her eldest son.

Conrad nodded at his mom, then cleared his throat. ‘’Jeremiah took the words out of my mouth, so I’ll say something else I’m equally thankful for.’’ His lips tugged up into a little half smile and he reached over the table to take your hand in his. ‘’I’m thankful for meeting my amazing girlfriend, who came into my life at the most unexpected, yet perfect moment.’’ 

You smiled back at Conrad, giving his fingers a little squeeze. 

Seated before you, Belly snickered lightly. ‘’Can we eat now? Mom didn't want us to get snacks on the way here and I’m starving.’’ 

Laurel gave her daughter a pointed glare, wishing she would behave. 

Although the pumpkin pie didn’t come close to your father’s recipe, you made sure to tell Susannah it reminded you of home. 

‘’I hope your parents are not too sad that you came to Boston instead,’’ Susannah said, incapable of imagining spending Thanksgiving without her family — especially her boys. 

‘’Not at all, Mrs. Fisher,’’ you politely replied. ‘’My parents were both out of the country this Thanksgiving. Business related travel.’’

Susannah raised an eyebrow. ‘’Oh? What is it that they do?’’ 

You didn’t mean to brag, but she had asked. ‘’My mother is a fashion designer and my father is a lawyer at my grandfather’s firm.’’ 

You caught Belly rolling her eyes and muttering something. You didn’t care what she thought of you, you were the one who got to share Conrad’s bed at the end of the day. Ignoring her childish reactions, you continued talking to Susannah about your parents. She was very interested in your mother’s designs.

When dinner was officially over, you all vacated the table. Jeremiah and Steven went to the living room to set up a game for the five of you to play — another family tradition. You had never played cards against humanity before, but you’ll give it a try. 

Before you reached the living room, Conrad pulled you in a corner near the stairs, wanting some time alone with you. 

‘’Belly despises me,’’ you pointed to him, keeping your voice down so no one would hear.

Conrad rolled his eyes as he curled an arm around you, knowing how you had the tendency to exaggerate things. ‘’She does not. She’s just…having difficulty accepting that I moved on.’’

You made a face at him. ‘’Don’t you defend her. Have you seen all the sour looks she gave me during dinner? Your eyes might be the most beautiful shade of blue, my love, but I believe they are in need of a visual acuity test. You should schedule one when we get back to Palo Alto.’’ 

Conrad chuckled, amused by your theatrics. 

‘’Belly is going to be tougher to win with your charm. Like every ex-girlfriend, she’s gonna try to paint you as a mean girl, so you just have to show her that you’re the opposite. Compliment her. Tell her you like her sweater.’’

‘’But it looks itchy. It’s probably polyester.’’ 

The corner of Conrad’s lips turned into a smile.

—

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[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Guess Who's Coming To Dinner?

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV, Soldier Boy POV

Summary: All you wanted was for Ben to have a nice Thanksgiving, but when your daughter brings her new boyfriend over, all hell brakes loose! This one-shot takes place in You Call It Madness But I Call It Love universe! Reader is described as "Curvy."

Tropes: Fluff, Awkward Situation Over The Holidays, Bringing A Boyfriend Home For The First Time.

Word Count: 9.1K

Warnings: I'm gonna label this 18+ just to be sure. There is some swearing, Heated Kiss (a few), Sexual Innuendo, Implied Sex, Flirting, References to Sex (it happens quite a bit), Ben loves his wife, Ben REALLY loves his wife. Soldier Boy being Soldier Boy (Everyone knows he’s a warning). SOFT Soldier Boy. Soldier Boy might be a little OC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person

A/N: Truthfully this is a lot of fluff and soft Ben, having a proper family Thanksgiving (well sort of). Really, just Ben showing how much he loves his wife... AND I had this completely unhinged idea forever ago, but everyone say thank you to @anna6307 for reminding me to write it. ❤️

You Call It Madness But I Call It Love Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Soldier Boy POV

Ben reaches out his arm to your side of the bed as he wakes up without opening his eyes, but his hand finds cold empty sheets instead of your soft warm body.

His eyes blink open, the light from the open windows at the foot of the bed brilliant as he looks out at the view of the backyard, seeing the peaks of the thick trees that point upwards to the sky and just a glimpse of the sea beyond, sparkling in the early morning light.

It was Thanksgiving, Ben's first since he came back from Russia and despite his numerous insistences that "it wasn't a big deal" you weren't listening to him.

Honestly, what was new? Ben thought to himself with a sigh.

Holidays for him were always bittersweet.

When he was a child and in his teen years he spent the holidays at the elegant parties your parents threw in your family home sneaking eggnog and sips of whiskey from the flask in his coat while the two of you avoided his plastered father, and while he was with you he had a good time, but it was the quiet that came when he went home to the cold shell of his father's house that left a chill behind.

Truthfully, Ben would have just stayed at the boarding schools during the holidays if he hadn't been so eager to get back to you. He liked going to your family's parties, liked standing next to you and taking the brunt of your mother's disapproving glances. When he wasn't there he knew that she turned those looks on you and knew that she was less likely to make a comment about how you looked when he was a worthy target, and he was more than happy to take it, if it meant that he would get to see you smile and enjoy yourself.

Ben didn't care much for holidays, hadn't since his mother died, but he knew how much you loved them and he knew that you had sacrificed that love for them when you came with him to become a supe.

Your mother had banned you from your home the minute you told her that you weren't going to marry Howard and that you were going with Ben, and despite your father's insistences, your mother refused to let you return for Thanksgiving and for Christmas. Which meant that you were left with nowhere to celebrate and nowhere to go for the holidays you loved so much.

Ben did everything he could to make sure that the two of you celebrated in your own way. The early Thanksgivings were spent eating turkey sandwiches in Central Park, while Ben tried his upmost to make you smile, but the later ones were spent at the lavish parties that Legend threw. And no matter how many women tried to pull Ben away from you, he stayed beside you making sure that you were having a good time, but even at those parties you never seemed as happy as you had when you were back home in Philadelphia or when it was just the two of you.

It always made a sick feeling settle in the pit of his stomach, because it made him believe that you regretted coming with him.

But today would be different.

It would be the first Thanksgiving that Ben had spent with you since he left. You told him that Rosemary, Lou, and you always spent the holidays in the house in Maine and Ben didn’t complain. He liked the house and he liked how happy you seemed there, how you seemed to leave any anxiety you had back in the city.

And despite all the other Thanksgivings the two of you had spent at Legend's blowouts soaked with booze, Ben saw that you were genuinely excited and happy this year to celebrate, and it made him feel like he'd done something right for once.

But of all the things that Ben had learned about you after he came back, the fact that you liked to cook and knew how was still astounding to him. Sure, he had some dated ideas about what women's roles were, but when you'd still been a supe with him in the past Ben hadn't seen you cook once. The only time you'd gone into the kitchen in the past was to make coffee.

And hearing that you were going to cook Thanksgiving dinner almost made Ben start to look for pigs flying around outside.

He and you had come to the house in the Maine countryside early to get everything set up while Rosemary, Lou, Ryan, and Rosemary's new boyfriend were coming today to stay for a week. Ryan's school didn't give him the full week off, and Rosemary's boyfriend was working up until Thanksgiving day.

Ben frowned when he thought about Rosemary bringing home a man with her for Thanksgiving. He already didn't like the thought that Rosemary was bringing some random guy around Lou that Ben didn't know anything about and despite Ben not being around for forty years, he didn’t like the thought of some creep dating his daughter. Ben might not have been a huge influence in Rosemary's life, but the thought that some asshole was just screwing around with her made Ben furious. He knew exactly what men wanted from women and like hell some dipshit was going to get it from his daughter.

When he told you that you'd kissed him on the cheek and told him that he was "being cute" and that Rosemary was old enough to make her own decisions. But at least you hadn't seemed too keen on meeting the guy either.

When Ben had asked you if you knew anything about Rosemary's boyfriend, you'd said that Rosemary hadn’t told you too much, wouldn't even tell you his name because she didn't want you to "stalk him" so all you knew was that he worked at Supe Affairs, and that he was nice. Lou had piped up and said that whoever this guy was brought by flowers for Rosie each time he showed up and always made sure to bring Lou a sunflower because he knew how much she liked them.

Ben had tried to get Lou to tell him who this guy was or at least what his name was by bargaining with ice cream, but Lou had refused, said that she "made her mommy a promise" and that she "wasn't a snitch." Ben was proud of her for holding her ground like that and took her out for ice cream, but it didn't make him any less frustrated when he tried to figure out who it was that Rosie was bringing here for Thanksgiving.

Ben was racking his mind trying to remember a moment that he would have seen her and her boyfriend together at work, but Ben hadn't seen Rosemary talking to anyone new at the office, just the team.

Not to mention, Ben didn't want to be trapped in the house with the guy, listening to him rail Ben's daughter. There were moments where Ben wished he didn't have supe hearing, and that certainly seemed like a moment he wouldn't want it.

Rosemary felt the same way of course. She also had supe hearing and had woken up in the middle of the night the last time she stayed with Ben and you at the Maine house and had witnessed something that she said was "grotesque." Personally, Ben was no longer embarrassed about that kind of thing, not to mention he liked how loud you were and how loud he could make you, but you certainly hadn't been able to look your daughter in the eye for a week when you realized exactly what she'd heard.

And then you had made the rule of no sex while Rosemary was around.

Ben hated that rule and it was difficult for him. He didn't like going too long without touching you, not to mention he liked it immensely when you touched him, so last night Ben had tried to get it all out of his system and give you a little bit of stress relief from all the meal prep and cleaning. He hated seeing you so stressed.

Of course the rule also meant that Ben could tease you as long as he wanted to. And that usually lead to you dragging him out to the car to run “errands,” when the two of you ended up parked a few miles away running errands in the front seat of his car.

The window was open, allowing the chill in the wind to creep through the opening, the leaves on the trees beyond were burnished gold, red, and orange, and Ben could hear the crashing of the waves along the rocky shore.

He enjoyed being here as much as you did. Walking along the shore holding your hand, barefoot while the waves lapped at his feet, sitting on the couch in the den with you in his lap listening to music, watching you paint in the screened in back porch that you'd turned into your studio while he read his newspaper, and falling asleep with his body curled protectively around yours pressing kisses into your bare shoulder as you drifted off with a soft smile, holding on tight to the arm that was wrapped around your waist. He didn't think that his life would ever look like this, sure he'd thought about what it would look like to be with you, but he didn't know how he'd gotten it and he wouldn't trade it for the world.

Ben turns his gaze to your side of the bed to confirm what he already knew, that you're not there and he sighed.

Ben didn't like waking up without you, he also hated going to sleep without you, but waking up in an empty bed only made him think of all the mornings that he spent away from you, the mornings when he was away on a film shoot and to remedy how much he missed you he called just to hear your voice, other mornings when he'd wake up to a cold bed after whoever he'd slept with had left, and other mornings from his youth where he was away at another boarding school and he missed the weight of your body next to his.

Usually as you slept, you would subconsciously curl into him, and he would wake up with you on his chest, your head over his heart, your left arm curved over his torso to hold him closer to you. He liked that, because even if you woke up before him you didn't move. Instead you would stay there, pressing a kiss over his heart, running your hand up to stroke his cheek, or push his hair back because you know how much he likes it. It was a nice way to wake up.

With you there, smiling at him, looking at him as if he's all you see, as if you can see through him, through bones and flesh into his soul. And you never look away no matter how much you see. You accept him as he is, all the parts that Ben worked so hard to hide from the rest of the world like his father taught him, the other parts that he isn't proud of, and yet you love him.

You'd worn many titles over the years. His best friend, his teammate, the woman he loves, and now his wife. And at every stage, every ascension to a new name place, Ben still didn't deserve you and everything you did for him.

He never had and he knew that he never will. He'd never met someone so happy to love him, so eager to give him all of you even after all the shit he'd done to you, and so excited to spend the rest of your life with him. Ben's eyes drop to the ring on his left hand and he smiles to himself. It had been three months since the two of you stood in front of a small group of people, you radiant in white and holding a bouquet of lavender listening to him make a promise to love you and protect you for as long as he lived and him listening to you promise the same thing. It was the one thing the two of you should have done ages ago, but all Ben cared about was that he had you, that he wasn't going to lose you ever again, and that you were his and wanted to be his for the rest of your life.

And he couldn't have been happier. Ben had never been this happy in his entire life and he knew that it had everything to do with you.

Funny, if someone had asked him in the past if he was happy he would have said yes without hesitation, but now he knew that he wasn't. This was happiness, being with you, spending the rest of his life making up for the past, making you smile, and feeling the unconditional love you had for him each day as you eased any worries he had about expressing too much, when he'd spent his life expressing the bare minimum of emotions that he usually locked away.

But waking up in bed without you made him unhappy.

He frowned and sat up, the blankets falling away from his bare chest with the movement as he looks around the room for signs that you were there, but the bathroom door stands ajar and the bedroom door is cracked open.

Ben focuses his hearing and hears you downstairs banging around in the kitchen. He sighs again.

How long has she been down there?

He thinks with a groan getting out of bed and trying to find his sweatpants. Ben wasn't sure where you'd thrown them when you ripped them off of him last night, but after he finds them halfway under the dresser he makes his way downstairs. His fingers run through his hair, brushing it back away from his face, his bare feet padding down the hardwood stairs.

The smell of turkey, fresh bread, cinnamon, and cloves wafted up the staircase and there was a warmth in the large open kitchen that came from the oven and from the wide open bay windows above the sink where the rising sun bathed the room in a honeyed glow. Ben could see you swaying to music where you stood at the sink, trying to wash some of dishes that were stacked high over the lip of the marble countertops.

You had flour smudged on your right cheekbone, and stuffing in your hair that was tied back from your face with a bandana and you were wearing one of his oversized shirts and the pair jeans that Ben loved on you, the ones that hugged your curves just the right way to drive him crazy.

Truthfully, Ben was happy that you were getting more comfortable wearing things that actually showed your curves again, especially after all the years you'd spent being swaddled in monstrosities of lace, choked by shape-wear, and stuffed into clothes only created to hide the curves that drove Ben mad whenever he saw them. Even in your years as a supe, you'd been hesitant to wear anything form fitting, still feeling the cold disapproval of your mother almost decades after she'd been put in the ground. If anything Ben liked how curvy you were, he liked that you had just a little more that he could hold on to and squeeze.

And like hell Ben was going to let his wife feel insecure in her own body, especially in one that made him feel like he was a damn teenager again whenever he got his hands on you.

There were remnants of potato peels, bundled plastic wrap, and tops of carrots scattered like fallen leaves over the kitchen island. Not one piece of countertop was spared by the destruction of your preparation for Thanksgiving, only sweeping chaos left behind in your wake.

Ben expected that. Your art studio back at the apartment was the same way, and whenever he teased you about it, you'd only roll your eyes at him and say that "there was no point in a creative space without having a little chaos."

The speaker in the kitchen is blasting one of your favorites, "You're All I Need To Get By" by Aretha Franklin. Ben personally didn't like her work, thought that she catered more to a feminine audience, but he knew how much you loved her. He had taken you to a private concert once for one of your birthdays, sat through the entire thing trying not to  grimace, but each time he almost did, he'd look over at you and see how happy you were and he'd smile instead.

You were singing it to yourself, swaying your hips along with the melody in a way that reminded Ben of exactly what you'd done with them last night.

He couldn't understand how he got so lucky and again he wondered how he ended up here with you.

Ben leaned against the doorway to watch for a few minutes, trying not to make a face when you'd screech. You were never the best singer in the world and Ben had been subject to your singing more than once in all the time he'd known you, more often on nights when the two of you would go out for drinks at the bar down the street from your childhood home in Philadelphia. You would belt songs as loud as you could on the drunken walk home, wobbling on your feet, while Ben tried his best to keep you walking in a straight line and keep you steady to avoid you falling on your face and busting your lip open on the curb.

He steps forward into the room, creeping up behind you, reaching out to grab you when-

"If you're trying to scare me that's not going to work." You say, scrubbing at one of the stainless steel bowls in your hand with a scrub brush.

Ben snorts and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you back into his chest. You smelled like him again. "Didn't think you'd be able to hear me over the screeching."

"What screeching?"

"You trying to sing."

"I don't think you're exactly Frank Sinatra."

"Fuck, I miss that bastard. And the Rat Pack, we had some good times-"

"Yes. I remember something about you destroying a suite in Vegas and me sweet talking a cop to get you out of it." You hesitate, pulling your hands out from under the warm water. "Sinatra was quite the charmer, voice like velvet, not too bad looking and-"

"Just like me."

You laugh and lean back into his embrace, while Ben begins to sway you to the music. "I'm not too sure about that."

"Hmm." Ben sighs into your shoulder. "Why weren't you in bed when I woke up?"

"I'm sorry." You turn to kiss him on his bearded cheek, lingering for a minute longer in a way that makes Ben feel his heart thud an extra beat.

"What time did you get up?"

"5."

"Why the fuck have you been up for six hours?"

"Because I had to start cooking."

Ben can see the anxiety thrumming beneath your skin, settling over your shoulders, at the thought of how much you had to do. He didn't like it so he began to press his lips along the slope of your neck, feeling you sigh and relax in his arms as he pulls you closer against his body.

Fuck, you felt good.

You were always warm and soft in all the places that Ben was muscular and hard. You always fit so perfectly against him, in a way that made Ben refuse to believe that anyone else did. You were his in every possible way, had been his in every way since you were kids even if he was too afraid to admit it.

"I had to chop the carrots, boil the potatoes, make the pumpkin pie, stuff the turkey-" You continue with a sigh.

"You've been talking about stuffing that damn turkey for two days. Why don't you let me stuff something for a change?" Ben murmured, beginning to kiss down your throat, and moving his hands that were on your waist up under the oversized shirt you were wearing, trailing over your warm skin.

"You're a disgusting old man." You groan, but Ben can hear the smile in your voice without opening his eyes.

"You knew that when you married me Sweetheart." Ben smirks.

"Unfortunately."

"I think it's what you love most about me."

"No, I'm pretty sure it's how humble you are." You laugh at your joke and Ben squeezes you in response.

Ben moves his hand higher underneath your shirt stopping just below your bra, nibbling on your earlobe. "Come on Sweetheart, I want to have you one more time before Rosemary shows up."

"Ben-" You groan, your hands braced against the counter he'd pinned you against. "I can't I still have to-"

"By the time you finish arguing we could already be getting to the fun part."

You smirk at him over your shoulder. "Maybe I think the arguing is the fun part."

"Oh really?" Ben feels his smirk grow and this time he doesn't stop his hand from reaching past the edge of your bra and you gasp softly.

Ben couldn't get enough of the way you responded to him when he touched you, the sounds you made into his mouth when he made love to you, the little gasps, cries, and moans of his name that he replayed for himself whenever he was away on a mission and the ones he loved to recreate when he returned home to you. "Are you saying that you didn't have fun at all yesterday? Or last night?"

"No-" You say, trying to keep your voice even, but Ben can feel the tremor that courses through your body when the memory of what the two of you did comes roaring back.

"You're lying." He breathes into your throat. "You know I can tell when you lie."

"Ben really-"

Ben fits his lips over your mouth,  swallowing whatever excuse you were going to say whole. “As much as I like you in my clothes, I think it’s time you take this off.” He tugs at the bottom of your shirt.

"Ben I've still got to-" You try again, but this time Ben begins to suck a mark just under your jawline, next to the other one he left last night.

He liked doing that, as if the ring on your finger wasn't enough, Ben felt a primal urge to mark you so anyone who sees you knew that you were taken, and that you were his. He also knew that you liked it too. He could practically taste how much you wanted him against your lips, could feel it buzzing through your skin everywhere he was touching you. Ben loved that after all these years, he still had the same effect on you.

You sigh, reaching back to tangle your still wet hand in his hair. "You're fighting dirty." You say in a pout.

"By now you should know it’s the only way I know how sweetheart." Ben laughs against your skin, and he can feel your resolve begin to waver.

You groan again, tightening your hands in his hair and pushing your body back against his chest as his hands roam over the curves he loves so much.  "Fine." You mutter in utter defeat. "You get ten minutes, but if anything burns, Benjamin I swear I'm going to divorce you."

"I'd only convince you to marry me again doll." Ben chuckles. "And I only need 7."

*Exactly 27 minutes later*

Reader POV

"I'm going to get the divorce papers as soon as I take this turkey out of the oven! You said 7 minutes Benjamin!" You shout reaching for the oven mitts that you left haphazardly on the counter before Ben dragged you back to the bedroom.

Well, dragged is a relative term given how he carried you up the stairs with your mouth locked with his and your hands tangling in his hair.  And you might have complained about how long the two of you were upstairs, but you don't think that you would ever complain about anything Ben did to you.

You couldn't. Not when you still couldn't quite feel your legs and could feel your heartbeat thudding hard against your ribcage while you tried to catch your breath.

You take a step on shaky legs towards the oven, but Ben intercepts. "Let me do that doll." He gives you a knowing smirk that makes you weak in the knees. "Wouldn't want you to drop it."

"I hate you." You mutter under his breath when Ben reaches in to pull out the turkey, not bothering to put the over mitts on. You didn't need them either, but you liked using the oven mitts, they made you feel normal.

"I love you too sweetheart." He winks as he puts the turkey on top of the crowded stove. "Looks good."

"I love how surprised you are that I can cook."

"You weren't exactly Julia Child before I went to Russia." He says surveying the different foil covered dishes on top of the stove.

"I had to learn how to cook after I had Rosemary, toddlers get kinda hangry if you don't feed them, but Melanie helped. Taught me everything I know. I owe her so much." You smile at the memory of the older woman who welcomed you into her home when you felt so lost after Ben broke your heart and was taken to Russia. The woman who was more of a mother to you than your own flesh and blood. It was Melanie who brought you back from the darkness that threatened to consume you in the wake of what Ben had yelled at you at the premiere after you walked in on him and Countess.

Something that you no longer stung as much as it had. Ben had made it up to you, and despite how many times you told him not to feel guilty over what had happened, and that you had forgiven him, he refused to stop making it up to you everyday. And you'd never been so happy in your entire life.

"I do too." Ben murmurs pulling you close to him again and dragging his fingers over the plains of your face to push back your hair.

You knew that he still felt guilty for not being there when Rosemary was a kid, but you believed that the relationship that he was building with your daughter was making it better. Although it had a rocky start, Ben and Rosemary were getting along a lot better than they had been. You attributed that to how close they were working together, but you knew that Ben was becoming more optimistic about their relationship.

 "And why couldn't Rosemary help cook some of this shit? Why does it have to be just you?" Ben frowns.

“She’s bringing some things. I just didn’t want to make her bring too much because she’s got Ryan and Lou.”

“And that asshole.”

“We don’t know he’s an asshole.” You snort.

“He’s a guy.”

“You’re a guy, Ben.”

He frowns, and you couldn’t help but think that it was cute how protective he was acting. “So? He’s probably some pompous jerk.”

“It’s her life. And trust me, after everything that happened with Charlie, Rosemary is definitely making sure that  he’s not a creep.”

“But why won’t she tell us who the fuck he is?”

You press your lips together into a tight line. You’d also thought it was weird how close lipped Rosemary was being about the guy she’d been dating, but whenever you tried to bring him up she refused to talk about him. You didn’t understand why she was being so secretive, but the last time you'd asked her why she wouldn't tell you she said that she didn't want you to "scare him away."

Honestly, it's like she thinks I'm Ben or something. And I was nothing but supportive about Charlie and look what happened to him!

But you trusted her to make a good decision, figured that everything that happened with Charlie made her more wary about who she fell into bed with.

You fight the wave of nausea when you think about Rosemary having sex with her boyfriend.

Please let them not have sex in the house.

You think with a shudder.

The last thing you wanted to hear was Rosemary and her boyfriend having sex in the bedroom next to Ben and yours. It had been embarrassing enough when she heard Ben and you the last time, before you instituted the rule that Ben barely followed.

To be fair you hated that rule as much as he did.

 Of course, you knew they were sleeping together. Whenever she'd come home late from a date and practically floated into her apartment on nights Ben and you babysat, you could smell him all over her.

What was even weirder was that the smell was familiar, but you couldn’t place it.

But you liked seeing how happy she was, she deserved that after everything that happened with Charlie.

“I don’t know, she probably doesn’t want to say so you won’t show up and do whatever this is that you're doing." You reply.

"And what the fuck do you think I'm doing?"

You smile and pinch his cheek, making his frown deepen. "Being absolutely adorable."

"Don't call me that."

"Why not? You are. I love it that you're going full protective dad mode." You smile.

"Don't tempt me doll."

"Oh baby." Your smile turns more into a smirk, working your hands up his bare chest and feeling a groan vibrate through the palms of your hands. "We both know how much you love it."

Ben's eyes darken in a way that reminds you of exactly what the two of you had just been doing that almost resulted in the burning of the turkey.

You arch up to kiss him, but right before your lips touch his, you pull back. "Go get dressed. I'll be up in a bit to change before they get here-"

"I was going to wait for you to do that." Ben's eyes are still dark when you turn to the stove to find the meat thermometer.

"Why?" You ask leaning over the turkey to inspect it.

Ben pulls your body back into his. "Because I figure you're going to need a shower and I thought we might as well save some water."

"You're insatiable."

"Only for you sweetheart." Ben's lips press against your ear, the warmth of his breath making goosebumps skitter over your arms. "We both know how much you love it." He murmurs using your own words against you.

One of these days, he's going to make me spontaneously combust.

But you did love it. You loved every minute you spent with him, loved the way he looked at you, loved the way he touched you, and loved the way Ben made you feel loved. The way you imagined this life with Ben when you were younger, was nothing compared to the real thing.

"Give me thirty minutes." You whisper kissing him once more.

"I'll be waiting."

Reader POV

You fidget with the collar of the oversized black sweater, hoping that the edge is thick enough to cover the collection of marks on your neck that Ben left behind, while listening to the car come to a stop at the end of the long driveway outside the house.

Ben catches your hand to pull it away from the top of your sweater. "Why bother hiding it Sweetheart?" He purrs with a smirk, his dark hair still wet from the shower and hanging into green eyes that shine with mischief. Just as they did when you were kids, and even after all of these years, it still does the same thing to you. It still makes your heart beat an extra beat, still makes a warm tingle travel down your spine, and still makes your chest just a little tight.

"Because I'd like to not be covered in hickeys when I meet Rosemary's boyfriend for the first time."

He shrugs. "It's not like Rosemary doesn't know what we were doing before she showed up. He might as well learn early. And you never try to cover the marks you leave on me-"

"Because most of the ones I leave on you aren't as visible when you're wearing this many clothes." You roll your eyes, but give his hand a squeeze where it still holds yours. "And aren't I a little old to be having hickeys?"

"You're never too old for something like that doll." Ben leans down towards you, the mischief flickering into something else, morphing into the love that he'd shown you the minute he came back into your life. "Especially not when you keep me young."

"Well, you are older than me."

"Only by a few months."

"It makes all the difference. How does it feel to be old and rickety?"

Ben chuckles under his breath. "You didn't think I was old an rickety earlier."

The front door knob jiggles, stopping whatever you were going to respond with when Lou comes running into the room like a shot out of a cannon.

“Grandpa!” She crows and runs past you to leap into Ben’s arms.

As adorable as you thought it was how much that Lou loved Ben and how much Ben loved her, you couldn’t help but be a little bit jealous that Lou didn't say hi to you first. But the look on Ben's face when he hugs his granddaughter back makes all of that go away.

You remember how afraid you were to tell Ben about Lou and Rosemary, but each time you saw how genuinely happy Ben was to spend time with his granddaughter made your heart feel like it would burst. Because all you saw was the man you loved and the boy you grew up with. There wasn’t one shred of the persona Ben adopted as Soldier Boy and it made you love him more.

“Hey Louie.” Ben smiles picking up Lou so he’s not bending down. “How’s my favorite girl?”

“I missed you Ben!” Her little arms hug around his neck tight.

“Guess she didn’t miss me.” You mutter under your breath giving Ben a pointed look.

He only smirks at you over Lou’s shoulder.

“I missed you too grandma!” Lou says, her own supe hearing picking up what you whispered. “I just figured that Ben needs more hugs.”

“And why is that?” You laugh.

“Because you’ve been here longer and Ben has missed out on so many.” She reasons hugging Ben tighter.

The look in Ben's eyes when she says that shifts to something softer as he holds her close to him, hugging her back as tight as he dares. “Thank you honey.”

Ryan comes in next, holding a brown paper bag that must hold the sides that you asked Rosemary to bring with her, but she and her boyfriend still haven't made an appearance in the kitchen.

"Hey grandma. Happy Thanksgiving." Ryan smiles. "Where should I put this?"

"Just on the table is fine, but can I have a hug. I'm feeling a little left out." You joke throwing another glance at Ben and Lou.

Ryan hugs you half-heartedly. He was getting into his teen years, so things like hugs were always going to be a little awkward for a while, but you didn't care.

You liked that he was adjusting to his new life. He'd made a few friends at the school he attended, and Butcher would come by to make sure that Ryan was still doing his homework and to hang out with him.

You felt a little bad that Butcher would be spending Thanksgiving alone, you'd asked Ryan to invite him to come with them so Butcher could have a place to go, but Ryan had said that Butcher had "plans" and you'd missed the smile that Ryan hid when you turned away.

"Where's Rosemary?" You ask him when he pulls away.

"She's getting the bags."

"And you're not going to help her?" Ben raises an eyebrow at the teenager.

"But she's a supe-"

"That doesn't matter, go on." Ben nudges his head in the direction of the front door, a stern look on his face.

"But-"

"Don't argue with Ben." You say, gently pushing Ryan towards the door.

"Fine." Ryan mutters.

"I can help too Grandpa!" Lou cries, squirming so Ben knows that she wants to be put down.

"No sweetie." Ben puts her down, but she keeps a tight hold on his hand. "The only thing I want you to worry about is giving your grandma a hug."

Lou grabs on to you so tight that you're sure there's a bruise somewhere, but you don't care. You love your granddaughter even more than Ben, which was saying a lot, and Ben didn't need to know that.

I mean… he already knows.

"Happy Thanksgiving Grandma." Lou breathes.

"Happy Thanksgiving baby." You say, holding on to her.

You were happy to see your granddaughter, but you could feel the thrum of anxiety beneath your skin. You were a little nervous about meeting Rosemary's boyfriend. Maybe it was because you knew absolutely nothing about him, but for some reason it was making you more anxious than making a giant dinner for your entire family.

"Hey mom. Hey Ben. Happy Thanksgiving." Rosemary smiles at the two of you, holding a giant multicolored cornucopia of flowers. You'd told her that you wanted a centerpiece and despite being an artist for most of your life, Rosemary was better at merging together different flowers and textures to create truly awe-inspiring centerpieces.

You didn't know she did it, but each time she managed to surprise you with something that altered your brain chemistry.

"Happy Thanksgiving." You pull her in for a one armed hug. "Wow you've really outdone yourself with this one." Your eyes skate over the Sunflowers, red Daisies, orange Mums, and dark blue delphiniums in her other hand. There was a strong smell of cinnamon in the air, coming from the looped cinnamon sticks that she had woven in around the blooms.

"Thanks." She beams.

"Where's your boyfriend?" Ben asks, leaning against the counter. He'd be the picture of casual if you couldn't see the frown on his face, that he didn't even bother to hide.

"He's helping Ryan with the bags." She steps around you to move the centerpiece into the dining room, squeezing Ben on the arm as she walks past.

It makes you smile to yourself. Rosemary and Ben still had a long way to go before she was up for hugging him, but you could see that she was trying to get more used to him being around. You think that Ben marrying you helped. Not that Rosemary was old fashioned, but you think it solidified something in her head that Ben wasn't going anywhere and that he wasn't going to leave you again. You also think that Rosemary seeing the gentle way Ben was around Lou helped too, that Rosemary saw another side of him other than the side she'd seen in all those ridiculous movies, music videos, and pictures of Soldier Boy she'd seen growing up.

But you could also see the way it was making Ben feel better. When they first met he had been so discouraged by that way Rosemary treated him, but now when they spent time around one another you could see how happy Ben was and it warmed your heart.

You wanted Ben to feel like he belonged, it was his family too, not just yours. And every day you saw how Ben was starting to believe that more and more.

Ryan comes back into the room, loaded down with bags, but the man who comes in through the front door behind him isn't Rosemary's boyfriend, it's Billy Butcher.

He stops just inside the doorway, looking from you to Ben with an odd expression, as if he's not sure what to say.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Ben frowns at the man.

Ben barely tolerated Butcher, after missions he would come home and complain to you about something that Butcher ordered him to do. Personally you never thought that Butcher had Ben do anything that sounded like something Ben should complain about, but you knew that Ben had always had a problem following orders.

Weirder still was that Ben often said when he exploded on Butcher, it was Rosemary who would step in to try and calm Ben down. You didn't know why that was.

Honestly, you didn't hate Butcher, but you were wary of him. You thought he knew too much about your family and were often worried that he would sell all of you out for the right price. It did make you happy to see Ryan so happy with Butcher, but you weren't sure if you could trust him. He was one of the only people who knew what Lou could really do, one of the only people who knew what your power really was, and one of the only people who knew that Lou was the one who took down Homelander.

But at the same time you were happy that he was there. He was the closest connection that Ryan had to his mother, and you were glad that Ryan could have another person in his life who loved him. You'd seen what had happened with your own son and what happened to him when no one loved him. And you didn’t want that to happen to Ryan.

You elbow Ben hard in the stomach.

"What'd you do that for?" Ben asks.

Butcher clears his throat to say something, but you speak before he can.

"Please ignore Ben. I'm so glad you decided to join us. I was worried that you were just going to spend Thanksgiving holed up in your apartment. Ryan always talks about you when you're not here."

"Uh-" He clears his throat again and it's the first time that you’d ever heard him sound nervous.

You smile widely to make him feel more comfortable, taking his awkwardness as a reaction to what Ben said. "It's a good thing too, because I think I made way too much food."

"Right." Butcher clears his throat. "These are for you." He holds out a large bouquet of Lavender wrapped in crinkling brown paper towards you.

"Oh wow. Thanks." Surprise flits across your mind when you try to reason why Butcher brought you flowers, but you still take them. Ben seems to also consider this because, he frowns at the flowers as if he's debating whether or not to throw them away or if he should take it as a threat.

"Rose said they were your favorite." Butcher cracks an awkward smile.

The nickname makes you pause.

Rosemary hates it when anyone else other than us calls her by a nickname…

"And this is for you." Butcher holds out a bottle of whiskey towards Ben, who takes it, also confused by Butcher's sudden generosity.

"Thanks." Ben grunts, but he doesn't smile.

"You didn't have to bring us anything." You look down at the flowers, inhaling the fragrant blooms. "I mean, the invitation out here for Thanksgiving was not contingent upon gifts."

"I thought it was a good idea." Rosemary says, reentering the room with Lou following behind her. Butcher glances at her like a lifeline.

"Why?" You ask hesitantly.

A sick feeling begins to bubble in the pit of your stomach. You had a sneaking suspicion of where this was going, but you were still holding out for a miracle.

Ben looks past Butcher towards the front door of the house, looking for the boyfriend who was supposed to be getting the bags out of the car, but no one appears in the doorway. "How long does it take to get bags out of the car? Is your boyfriend hiding outside like a fucking pussy or something?"

Rosemary steps even closer to Butcher and this time she takes his hand.

Oh. My. Fuck.

"No. He's right here. Mom, Ben, You guys both know Will." She smiles up at him the same way that she used to smile at Charlie, when she was head over heels and nothing could drag her away. Her whole heart open and you can see the flicker of the same feeling reflected in Butcher's eyes when he glances at her.

It feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room, the awkward silence hanging over you all like a anvil choosing a target.

If Rosemary had come in here and announced that she was pregnant with an alien's baby you would have been less surprised than what she has just admitted. It was so far out in left field that you felt half-way to China. You had no idea how on earth this had happened or why it had happened.

There's a high pitched cracking noise, followed by an audible smash, as pieces of what was the whiskey bottle rain down from Ben's hand. He'd crushed the whole thing by just flexing his fingers.

"Surprise!" Lou grins ear to ear, swinging from Butcher's other hand, unable to read the room.

There's an awkward silence hovering over the room in the wake of their confession. Honestly, you're not sure what you’re feeling. Sure, you felt a little bit betrayed that Rosemary kept it from you for so long, but the feeling racing through your veins was unnamable.

"Lou go upstairs with Ryan." Ben growls in a low voice.

You had no idea how to respond to this. The only voice in your head was screaming "WHY HIM?"

Because really, why Billy Butcher?

"But-"

"Listen to Ben sweetie." You say in a tight voice, your eyes not leaving Butcher and Rosemary.

Rosemary's smile falters for a minute, as Lou goes up the stairs and no one speaks again until you hear her bedroom door close.

"No." Ben states calmly, wiping his hand with one of the dish towels.

"No, what?" Rosemary asks confused. She's still holding on to Butcher's hand, who looks as confused as she does.

"No. You're not allowed to date this British Fuck!" Ben shouts.

"Calm down mate-"

"Don't you dare tell me to calm down!" He takes a step forward and you hold out your arm to stop him. The heat of his skin is burning through his clothes where your arm makes contact with the front of his shirt. "And get your hands off my fucking daughter!"

"You cannot tell me what to do Ben! I am a grown woman and-"

"I don't give a single fuck. You're not going to date this Son of a Bitch." Ben's eyes narrow, pointing with one finger.

"And I don't give a single fuck what you say! I'm forty years old and you don't get to tell me who I can and cannot date." She shouts back.

"I am your father-"

"You're just the guy who got my mom pregnant!"

"Hey!" You shout interrupting the retort that is about to come out of Ben's mouth. "We're not going back to that."

"But he's being absolutely-"

"Rosemary." You clear your throat, interrupting her. "How long?"

"I don’t see why that matters-"

"How long?" You say again, interrupting her.

"Four months." Rosemary replies.

Butcher still looks like he's unsure what to do or what to say.

"Four months���" You nod methodically, and then you lose your last shred of composure. "Four MOTHER FUCKING MONTHS?!" You shout. "Are you insane?"

"Mom-"

You hold up a hand. "No. No. You had your chance. You've been sneaking around with William Fucking Butcher for four months! Why didn't you tell us?"

"Because I knew you would react like this."

"React completely justified to finding out that you're dating the guy who has killed countless people and tortured others to-"

"Look who's talking!" Rosemary spits.

Ben's body goes taunt next to you and you can practically feel the air heat with the force of his anger.

"Don't you turn this around on Ben!" You snap. "We're not discussing him right now. We're discussing you and him." You make a wild gesture at Butcher who looks even more uncomfortable now that you've started shouting.

Probably was just expecting Ben to freak out.

"I don't care-"

"Well that appears to be seen." You sigh heavily and pinch the bridge of your nose, trying very hard to make the images of Butcher and your daughter rolling around in bed together dissipate.

They weren't and there were so many.

"I can't believe that you did this. That you're-" You can't even get the words out of your mouth.

"Will you just listen to me for one fucking minute?!" Rosemary screams over you.

"Don't talk to your mother like that!" Ben seethes.

"And don’t you talk to Rose like that you arrogant wanker!" Butcher mirrors taking a step forward.

"That's it!" Ben tries to step around you, but you shift to intercept.

"You're not going to kill him in my kitchen." You say to Ben.

"Thank you-" Rosemary begins to say.

"Let's take him outside and kill him there." You continue.

"Good idea sweetheart. Less mess." Ben agrees.

"No!" Rosemary is now standing between Ben, you, and Butcher, shielding him from the two of you. "I love him and I'm not going to let you touch him!"

Her words make you freeze.

Sure, Butcher was hot and sexy in a rugged unwashed sort of way but you'd never believe that Rosemary had fallen in love with him. You weren't even sure that Butcher was capable of falling in love with anyone else after everything that happened with his wife and yet here he was standing in your house, in your kitchen, holding on to your daughter's hand, looking into your daughter's eyes as if he had fallen for her.

Since Charlie, Rosemary hadn't been on one date, hadn't spoken about anyone or made a comment about someone that she met at work. Before Charlie, Rosemary had only had a handful of dates. He was her one big love, the one that she fell head over heels for, the one who swept her off her feet, and then shattered her heart.

You had not once seen Rosemary look as happy as she did in the years since Charlie, except on nights that she spent coming home from a date with Butcher. You wanted her to be happy, you wanted her to find the same love that Ben and you shared, you wanted her to find someone who understood her completely the way that Ben understood you.

"Mom." Rosemary breathes. "You once told me that love shouldn't be a burden or something that I'm ashamed of. That it's not prideful or selfish, it's about giving pieces of yourself to someone else and receiving pieces of them so the two of you become something wonderful together." She sighs. "I spent months pushing Will away because I didn't want what happened to me before with Charlie to happen again. I-"

Butcher's hand finds hers when he senses how upset she is, and the motion makes your throat thick, but you let her keep talking.

"I thought that I was in love with Charlie, that he loved me, but I wasn't. And when Ben came back I struggled for a long time to understand why you let him back in after everything that happened, after he said those things and did those things to you. But then I fell in love with Will and I understood." She looks at Butcher with a half-smile. "I love him. And sure maybe he annoys the shit out of me and maybe he has the maturity of a teenage boy and-"

"You're not exactly making me feel better love." Butcher murmurs.

"And maybe he's not the most patient man in the world." She snorts with a shake of her head. "But I love every part of him, even the parts that make me want to throw him out the window. And I understand now why you couldn't let Ben go. Because I'm not going to let Will go. And if the two of you hate that, then it's too damn bad. Because he's not going anywhere."

"I'm not." Butcher re-affirms. "Even if the two of you throw me out I'm going to keep coming back."

"Like a damn cockroach." Ben murmurs under his breath. He'd drifted closer to you, so close that you could feel the warmth of his body against your back, a comfort right now.

"Exactly." Butcher flashes a shit eating grin.

You can’t help but respect him for that. His confidence in the face of certain death was admirable, and you could see some of the traits that Rosemary found so lovable. In fact, you could see a few of them in the man you loved with all your heart.

The four of you stand in complete silence listening to the what she just confessed, her words still ringing in the air of the warm kitchen.

"Mommy can we come down yet?!" Lou shouts from upstairs.

It breaks through the awkward tension and makes you smile.

"Fine." You say after a minute, extending your hand towards Butcher.

He takes it surprised, his other arm wrapped around your daughter's waist.

You yank him forward. "But if you break her heart, I'm going to make you wish you were never born. Understand?" You smile as widely as you can, with Ben glowering over your shoulder for effect.

"Yes ma'am."

When they go upstairs to put the bags away you sigh heavily and lean back against the counter, your head spinning. Ben is almost deathly silent, watching the two of them go, with an unreadable expression.

"What?" You ask him.

"Nothing." He shrugs, his dark hair falling forward into his face. "Just thinking of all the ways I can kill him if he breaks her heart."

"Good. We can make a list together and compare notes."

"And just when I think I can't love you anymore, you go ahead and say something like that."

"It’s a gift." You snort, placing your hand over Ben's heart and looking into his green eyes. "Well, I wanted your first Thanksgiving back to be memorable, but I didn't expect it to be like this."

"Honestly, I thought that it would end in a fight."

"The day is still young."

"It wouldn't be a normal day for us without a few surprises."

"I hate to admit it, but you're right."

"Always am."

"No you're always full of sh-"

Ben pulls you in for a kiss, his hands curving up over your hips, thumbs brushing beneath the hem of your shirt against your skin. "Happy Thanksgiving Sweetheart." He murmurs into your mouth.

"Happy Thanksgiving Ben."

A/N: Again, just a little holiday fluff from the fam!

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[nightunite]

How does maid reader get their things to König's manor? Do they leave with Duke MacTavish's knowledge or just vanish entirely and tell no one where they are going? Or do they simply only take only what they can carry and leave everything else behind?

-💎 Anon

Hello hello! Very excited to put out this one. Happy Turkey Day to those who celebrate, may your dinner table's be free of conflict!

At least at this point our lovely reader is more flight than fight, though we might see that change in the future.

She makes her way through the halls, back to her room with light steps, careful to avoid the creaking floorboards. She's managed to avoid being alone with Johnny (Duke MacTavish, she reminds herself, he is not Johnny, not for someone of your place) for the past few days, only a handful of hours between her and escape. She is torn, forced between two choices that make her breath catch in her lungs and her nails dig into her palms, knuckles white from force. Even now she struggles to leave this place, her job, her house but never her home, never her husband. Her mind knows this is for the best, to slip away in the wee hours of the morning, mist coating the grounds while the rest of the inhabitants sleep away, unaware that they will be one maid short come time to start on the linens. The only one aware of her vacancy is the head maid, who had fixed her with a look she couldn't return before uttering a soft murmur of understanding, reaching out to fix an errant strand of hair on her forehead in a way that reminded her of her mother. Perhaps it's the coward's way out, sneaking from her employer's grasp with him none the wiser.

She doesn't want to walk away from this, still carries a spark of yearning in her belly. The silly girl inside of her head begs for him to take notice, to realize what and who is in front of him, to see her for who she is to him (but he has, hasn't he? It's only her who failed to understand the true picture, so caught up in the tiny details that she never grasped the true meaning). Something akin to the romance novels some of the other women giggle about in their downtime, a grand gesture showing her it's not all for naught, that he loves her, truly.

Because he has to love her, doesn't he? At least a little? She couldn't have been the only one falling this entire time right? How else could he hold her in his arms, press heated kisses to the column of her throat, whisper of how she was his favorite? Perhaps if she goes to him, if she tells him how she feels, how she may be carrying his child, their child, he'll look at her the way she needs him to- Light spills from a doorway along with laughter, shadows flickering on the opposite wall. Johnny's Duke MacTavish's study is awake, and from the sounds of things she knows exactly who is here. Her stomach clenches for the uncountable time that day as she debates turning back the way she came. Unbidden, she steps closer still, and catches the tail end of the conversation. "So, how was she Simon?" Duke Price from the sounds of it. "Terrible. Kept squealing in my ear. Wasn't sure if I was bedding a maid or a pig." The clinking of ice inside of a glass followed by a loud sip. "Barely managed to find my finish. Honestly Johnny, don't know how you can find pleasure taking your maids for a turn." Oh. She covers her mouth, hiding her breathing as it becomes shaky, tears coming to sting and pool at her lashline. They know. "It's all about which ones you pick Simon! Take my best girl for instance-" No no God please no. "She's my favorite you know. Had to teach her everything, all shy and sweet, not expecting nothing of me. Best one to have in my arms, quick learner. The others are fun too, but the way she giggles and craves me," he sighs, "Makes me feel all warm, always gazing up at me like I'm her knight in shining armor!"

The clink of a fork against porcelain hits the air followed the sound of loud chewing, a fruity aroma hitting her nostrils over the faint odor of cigar smoke and making her fight the urge to retch. Apple tart. He's eating apple tart. Telling the other men about how he likes to fuck her while he eats one of those god-damned apple tarts.

The first time he had ever given her that smile, the one she once thought meant he loved her, was when they had met in the kitchen, late at night. She had come down for a glass of water, and he to sneak the remains of the apple tart from the icebox. He had offered her a bite, a cheeky wink making her cheeks warm as he offered it to be their little secret, 'just a little snack between friends, hen'. From there it became more, became Johnny, became rustled skirts and bitten lips, became floating within reach of Heaven every time their eyes locked or their hands brushed...

Became heartbreak and hopelessness, became a place of convenience, became another casualty of love and the harsh gravity of reality. Like an apple plucked from the tree, peeling back the thin veil separating her flesh from the air so he can taste the juices. He showed her what it meant to be a woman, to understand a man in the way mother's tease about for when their daughters grow older. He showed her what she thought was love, how a husband and wife would love one another.

Her heart never ceases to ache these days, a pain that echoes through her chest, like he has cored her out entirely, sunk his teeth into the innermost parts of her and found the flavor wanting. Was she not sweet enough? Too tart? Too soft? Not ripe enough for a man as impatient as him, jaws always aching for the next bite? Why, she wants to scream. Wants to storm into the study and rage at him, watch the way his face flushes and pales in turn as she strips him bare before these men whose approval he so desperately seeks. Why did you carve me open just to find another to sate your hunger. Why was I not enough for you. Why are you everything and I am nothing.

She has to leave, before he leaves her rotten and hollowed out, a sickly sweet death as she withers while he goes on to glut himself. A seed tossed haphazardly into the dirt only to take root, a weed sprouting free from the carefully tended rows in the field. If her suspicions are right and their folly bears fruit, she needs to run before the entire orchard is condemned. She refuses to cling to anyone else and send them crashing down in the fallout with her, even if it would suit Duke MacTavish right. She slips back down the hall like a shadow, barely visible for the blink of an eye as she darts down another corridor to her room. Shutting the door silently, she wipes at her cheeks and eyes, already raw from how much she's scrubbed at them. At the foot of her bed rests all she owns. Her meager belongings already packed away, a simple trunk's worth of things to carry to her new home tomorrow. She was foolish to think for even a moment there was another option in play here. She would always be a maid, and he a Duke, and there was no stepping outside of those bounds. With that knowledge, she curls into herself under the covers, hoping for sleep to take her swiftly so she may finally close this chapter.

In the morning at the MacTavish duchy, there is one less maid, and one less choice.

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

To Warm You Up

Natasha Romanoff x GN!Reader

Summary: A snowy day means a good book, warm drinks, and cuddles

Word count: 704

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff

A/N: I wrote this last night while my sleep meds kicked in. I used the prompt, 'bring you a hot drink'

It was quiet. The snow fell outside, watching the flakes dance every so often as you looked up from your book. It had been snowing all morning, and so you felt it was the perfect day to stay curled up in bed. Finally, you got the chance to read through a book you'd recently purchased. Your Maine coon, Dumpling, curled up by your feet.

You smiled content in how your day was going so far. The only thing missing was your girlfriend, Natasha Romanoff, she had gotten up early this morning and had occupied herself in her office with work since the snow kept her from going to the office. You hadn't heard from her all morning and now as early afternoon was about to turn to late afternoon you heard movement. You assumed Natasha had gotten up to grab herself something to eat. Making you remember you hadn't eaten yet. Your stomach growling at the realization. You didn't want to move though. You had become invested in your book and Dumpling had moved himself to your thighs, sprawling out across them.

Just as you finished up a chapter Natasha came through the threshold of your bedroom, tray in hand. Her red hair loose, falling over her shoulders in waves. A smile on her face when your eyes met as she got up on the bed with the tray. She'd made you a sandwich; turkey and cheese, a small pile of chips next to it and your favorite mug filled with hot chocolate. You could smell the peppermint and the two cinnamon sticks poking out gave away that she made it exactly how you like it.

“Oh moya lyubov. You didn't have to do this.” You set your book down on the side table before cupping her cheek. She leans into your touch. The two of you had been together for years. You knew everything about the other.

The Natasha you had met years ago who had defected from Russia who was so closely guarded. The Russian who was cold and calculated in every move she made. The Russian who when you first met was assigned to you and Clint. The Russian who put every wall up, used every sweet little lie with you and you who called her bluff everytime. She'd been put with you for one reason. You could tell when people lie. So really in the end she had no choice, but to tell the truth which terrified the red head.

“I wanted to. I hadn't heard you move since your trip to the bathroom this morning.” She raised an eyebrow at you, making you smile.

“Yeah I haven't. I got engrossed in my book. I'm already a little more than half way through!” Natasha could hear the excitement oozing from your voice. How could she not love you who only ever showed her love and kindness? You who would listen to her ramblings after nightmares. You who when she needed to be handcuffed to the bed to sleep offered your hand instead. You who offered a place when she had nothing and noone.

Some might think Natasha couldn't possibly settle down, but here she was with you as the snow fell outside. You picked up the mug, giving it a few blows before taking the first sip. The hot liquid falling down your throat and warming you instantly. You can't help the small ‘Mmmm’ that pushes up your throat, eyes closed. The mug warming your hands that you hadn't realized had gone cold as they tended to do, especially in the winter.

You talked with Natasha as you ate, catching up on her day and how work was going. She'd been writing reports and working on Intel the young Avengers had picked up on. You moved the empty tray aside, pulling Natasha against you. She always clung so tightly as if you'd disappear if she didn't hold you that way. She'd always been like this. You tried breaking the habit early on, but it never worked. Now it is something you look forward to, like a weighted blanket or stuffed animal. Natasha brought you comfort on such a level and in such a way you know no one else could compare.

[simon-o-riley-n-price-lover]

Tied Bonds

✩ Poly141 x f!reader (Yandere Universe)

Being a cafe worker was easy. You start to become friendly with the bar owners across the street, but they've become a little too obsessive. Would your friendliness become your worst mistake or your best decision yet?

ᥫ᭡ Main Masterlist

✮ Part 1 - A Cup of Ale and a Raspberry Scone

TW: Hint of stalking. If that triggers you. PLEASE LEAVE

MDNI

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

The smell of coffee and caramel. The small chatter of people with chairs scraping the ground. The sound of buttons being pushed and machines running. That's all you hear as you enter the cafe, from the back. Wrapping your apron around you and tying it you walk behind the counter, getting ready to start helping the customers.

You love your job. From making the drinks to talking to new people. You have favorite customers from either great tips or them helping with bad days. So, pleasing your customers has always been your top priority when coming to work. You just want to make them happy, always have been a people-pleaser.

You began working with your other co-workers. Putting a smile on as you talked with them or asking a customers order. You moved quick on your feet, always have. You knew the orders by heart, working here for 6 years. You made the drinks with ease and gave them to the customer with a 'goodbye' and 'have a good day!'

You remember the first time you started working here. Being a nineteen-year old, you knew about nothing to making coffee. You we're a scared, tiny girl. Anything and everything made you jump. Now being almost 27, you knew your way around this place like the back of your hand. You could move around here blindfolded with one arm. Maybe a bit extreme? But true! As time grew on, you began helping the newbies, you loved helping them, it made your day.

As you kept moving, your lunch break came around, you walked to your car to retrieve your lunchbox. However, there was a note on your car with flowers on the window:

"You may not know us or see us, but we see you. Hope these flowers bring you warmth like your smile brings us."

So sweet! Right? That isn't weird at all!! Just, someone being friendly and giving.

That's what you told yourself as you smelled the flowers and retrieved your lunchbox and went inside to the back to eat. Was he weird someone gave you flowers? Maybe a little..But, it was sweet! Plus, it was your favorite flowers! How could you be mad when someone went through all that trouble to get you it! Plus, it might just be a customer returning a sweet gesture.

Lunch wrapped up and you began working again in sync with your other co-workers. It was around around lunch so it was getting pretty busy. But that was great, busy times meant a great pay check! And money kept food in your belly and a roof over your head (which you still need to pay the rent..).

The bell continued to ring and someone walked up to your counter:

"Evenin' bonnie!"

You knew that voice! It was that flirty but sweet Scottish lad from across the street. He runs it with those other three men. He's been coming here for every lunch about a year ago. You always enjoy when he's here. He's quite the flirt but his conversations always brighten even your worse days.

"Hi Johnny! The regular today or something new?"

The short chuckle and he's pulling out his wallet.

"The usual. You always make it the best. Become my favorite thing."

You smile and take his money and putting it into the register before starting to make his drink. A Flat White with a Turkey, Provolone & Pesto on Ciabatta. He never once failed to order it. "How's the day goin' bonnie? No lads or ladies bothern' you, nah?" He tapped against the counter

"Course' not. I have your strong arms to protect me. Why would they mess with me when they know you're just across?" You teased, you loved the back and forth game you two had, made life a bit less bland.

"Oh for sure. Are the bows new lass?"

You look down. Oh right. You added bows to your apron. Cute pink bows to make it less bland.

"Mhm! Thought it made it cute and stuck out!"

He mused, eyes trailing you up and down. You missed it of course, too busy making his drink.

"It fit's ya lass."

You finished his drink and and walked over, sliding his sandwich and drink over, fingers brushing together as you handed it off.

"That so?"

He nods and winks at ya before walking off, leaving you smiling like a dork.

As the day goes on, customers coming and going, smiling and laughter filling the cafe before eventually everyone is gone and home for the night.

Later that evening, you're wiping the tables down and as you're wiping one of them, you catch a note on one of the tables. Being a curious sue, you open it:

"Thought you'd fine it. Been chatty for a while with you now but I'd like to talk to ya more than just one day occurrence bonnie. Here's my number. ***-***-****. Call me lass or I'll come lookin' for ya. ;)" -Johnny

From outside, staring from his car, he sees you stifle a giggle. And he grips his steering wheel tighter. How long are ya gonna make the lad wait lass? Maybe he needs to talk to his cap and lieutenant..they've already seen how truly bonnie you are. Sharing would only be caring..and he cares for his mates'.

Author note here: I really hope people like this. Trying out fic and if this turns out shite I'mma go overboard. Would love recommendations and comments!! <3

[gingernut1314]

'Tis the Season

Straw Hat Crew x GN!Reader

Summary: You share your holiday celebrations with your crew aboard the Going Merry.

Warnings: fluffffffff, some (very little) mentions of alcohol

Word Count: 1.5K

A/N: Soooo I've gotten into the holiday spirit and needed to write this, so I hope you all don't mind too much! @fanaticsnail thank you for contributing to my holiday cheer with your wonderful x-mas works! (go check them out if you haven't already! Very good!!) I hope everyone has an amazing holiday or can find joy in something that brings you happiness this month!!! 🩷

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Luffy: 🍖

As soon as you tell him anything about the holiday you celebrated back on your home island, he would insist on doing it right then and there

Festive and colorful decorations? He’s stopping at the nearest island to gather supplies and doctorate the Merry to your liking

Hot chocolate and food? Yes please.

Turkey, roast beef, or ham for dinner? Why not all of it?

The food is the most important part of this new holiday, he thinks

He’s getting Sanji to whip up every delicacy you can possibly think of

Fun holiday activities? The crew will be dragged along and they will have fun

He’ll want to double--no triple check that Santa is going to visit the Merry because he sounds super cool and he wants to recruit him onto the crew 

I mean, come on! The guy loves cookies and milk and those are some of Luffy's favorite things!

…and he will be very skeptical of you telling him Santa is, unfortunately, not real 

Luffy is dead broke so he goes to Nami to beg for berry so that he can get you a gift

Nami, of course, refuses to give him a single coin and tells him to make you something

So he would spend hours making you a gift

He would hand you a drawing of him hugging the life out of you on the Merry

And you would have to have him explain to you what is happening in his creation because all you can make out is the colors red and blue and what looks to be his signature straw hat

You love it regardless and hang it on the wall next to your hammock

Luffy will want to recreate the picture of course, and you’ll be more than happy to hug your captain back

Will leave cookies and milk out for Santa (and will eventually devour what he left out) and will try (and fail) to stay up all night to see Santa

You would find him dead asleep half an hour later and would be sure to leave a few gifts under the too-large tree he had Zoro set up on the deck for him

Luffy will get that guy next year, just you wait and see

Zoro: 🗡️🥦 ⚔️

He is uninterested

None of it is his style

Too flashy and too loud

He’s good to take a nap during the festivities

You will be able to entice him to come and eat the food Sanji was kind enough to prepare

And you’ll entice him further with some spiked holiday drinks

Luffy is all over the holiday, so it won’t take much convincing to sail back to your home island for the day

And while the rest of the crew is partaking in the festivities your home village is throwing in the snow-covered street, you’ll slip away with Zoro’s hand in your own

You will tell him how this holiday isn’t just about joy, food, and festive songs, but about life and death

You showed him back to the ruins of your childhood home, which he had been in mere moments before the villain you had been helping them fight set fire to it

The scorched front lawn was covered in clumps of candles, garland wreaths, rocks, and food, just as you knew it would be

You explained that your village had done this in celebration of the life your family had lived--to remember them and keep their souls filled with joy in whatever afterlife they might have entered

He would watch you light a candle and pull a small trinket from your pocket, placing them both on the blackened steps of your home

Zoro would light a candle and place it next to yours, sitting there with you for as long as you needed

He would even wrap you up in one of his strong arms, holding you tight

Later, you would gift him a bottle of sake 

He had no clue gift-giving had anything to do with your holiday, so he would insist you share the bottle with him

He will be sure to get you a gift next year

Nami: 🍊

She would be a little on the uninterested side at first

But after watching how excited you got as you explained to the rest of the crew about the holiday you celebrated, she would warm up to it

She would even warm up enough to allow you to doctorate her tangerine trees with lights and tinsel

The lights were pretty enough, she supposed. The tinsel shiny

And she does love shiny things

Once in the holiday spirit, she would let it fully take her over

Nami would dock the Merry on the closest island and go searching for the best gift she could find you

When it came to you, she hardly thought much about how much berry she was spending

You and your joy were more important to her than a number

You had commented on needing a new pair of shoes a week ago? Bought.

Commented on wanting something so offhandedly you had forgotten the moment you stepped away? Bought and wrapped in whatever wrapping paper she could find that screamed your holiday in its bright colors

She would be very excited to watch you unwrap everything she had gotten you (which you had been very shocked at, but had been told strictly to just unwrap everything and not worry so much)

You would feel a bit embarrassed at how little you had gotten her, but she wouldn’t care because your gift was thoughtful

So thoughtful it nearly brought her to tears

After everyone else had gone to bed, she would take you back up onto the deck and hand you a cup of hot chocolate she had attempted to make (which she had done a pretty good job at creating without the help of Sanji)

The two of you would sit, snuggled up next to each other under a heavy blanket and watch the dancing, multicolored lights adorning her trees late into the night

Usopp: 🤥

Will get into it right away

He loves any excuse to celebrate, so your holiday is already perfect

Usopp is quick to make colored lights to hang up around the ship

And he’ll want to make everyone a stocking, which will be color coordinating and have some sort of special technique that didn’t need to be added in the first place

He loves all the different holiday-themed stories and songs 

Throughout the day, he’ll randomly burst into horribly off-tune song and you will be expected to join in

The traditional stories you tell him get the typical Captain Usopp spin to them

But it just makes them that much better in your opinion

They become your crew's stories, making them so special

While the crew eats and drinks holiday drinks, he’ll tell the stories and have everyone, even Zoro, entranced by their colorfulness

You made the big mistake of telling him about Krampus

And now he is utterly terrified of getting kidnapped and beaten by the goat-demon

Though he won’t say he’s scared

He'll be very admit that he isn't

But a loud stomp of the foot against the deck floor from Zoro has the poor storyteller jumping out of his skin and using you as a shield

Usopp is a very good gift-giver

Not only is it handmade, but it is also functional (for once) and it will help you out loads

You give him his gift and he bursts into tears, thanking you and hugging you profusely

Everyone will go to bed, the lights hanging up everywhere only adding to the cozy, homeyness of the Going Merry

And you’ll just be nodding off when Usopp comes crawling into your hammock, begging you with tears in his eyes to keep Krampus away from him

You’ll laugh at him at first, but end up promising to keep him safe while you hold him tight

And he’ll hold you back just as, if not more, tight

Sanji: 🧑‍🍳

Of course, Sanji gets into the holiday spirit 

It's a holiday you celebrate and one that makes you happy

And all he ever wants to do is make you happy

You’ll sheepishly bring him your family's old cookbook full of recipes passed down from generation to generation

And he’ll be more than happy to cook you whatever your heart desires

Nothing is too much in his eyes when it comes to you

He’ll insist you help him cook everything, seeing as you are the expert when it comes to these recipes

And you two will share bits and pieces of everything before it all disappears into the void that is your captain’s stomach

He will also be very interested in this mistletoe tradition

He makes it his mission to not only hang the green sprigs everywhere around the ship

But to get you under as many of them as he possibly can, for as long as he possibly can

You find yourself purposely wondering under the mistletoe and lingering there until Sanji notices and rushes over

Though Sanji wants to get you the best gift he can possibly buy, he’s not the best when it comes to gift-giving

Food and physical touch are his love language after all

So he bakes you a sweet treat you had once told him about, one you hadn’t had since your childhood

And it’s the best gift you could have ever wished for because he made it just like how you remembered it

He loves whatever you give him

It could be a stick you say reminds you of him and he would be over the moon, mounting it and hanging it up in the kitchen

Though you are sure to get him a very nice gift, one you had spent weeks thinking over so it was just right

He doesn’t need the mistletoe to show you just how much he appreciates the gift

Sanji makes you both hot chocolate and holds you tight as you two talk in the abandoned and cleaned kitchen

[saleintothe90s]

504. The Macys Thanksgiving Day Parade, 1981, part 2

(part 1)

A sleepy Superman.

I love Regis saying "Hi, Mr. Hooper, you look great!" to the Sesame Street float.

FINALLY. Something interesting happens. Two actors from Hill Street Blues got out of their cop car and sang a song about NYC and dance with Ed. This is what I'm talking about. This is why I watch these old parades. This is my favorite part of that parade.

Ed says gruffly "Who are YOU?!" to Strawberry Shortcake. He shows her a parade from the past in super fast motion. Because? I don't know why. She said the parades where she lives are short?

Aw, its Stephen Nedoroscik.

Wait, I think I need this little girl toy that shows you where to put what eyeshadow where.

Here we go, flying too close to the sun with the microwave. Are those persimmons in with that chicken?

I am just not feeling the vibes of this parade yet, I had to climb in bed and take a two hour TikTok break about thirty minutes in. They're giving Regis nothing to do, he's just standing on the other side of town going "oh, there's smokey the bear. Across the street is the natural museum of history where I went a lot as a boy".

"Hey Reege, can't you see that I'm on my coffee break?" Nah, it's just the cast of the off broadway musical Pump Boys and Dinettes. They made it to Broadway the following year! There was also a TV pilot filmed but it didn't go past that. Aw, they only sang their theme song.

I found a screw up! Susan and Bill Hayes from the soap Days of Our Lives was supposed to sing a song about the parade, well they either missed their queue, or the music messed up, something. They had to restart their performance! I've never seen that happen with the parade. Susan is wearing Strawberry Shortcake's hat.

I love that Gregory Hines is having fun and singing directly AT the camera. This is almost a Quik Bunny "Try to Remember" situation from 1990. Seriously though, Sophisticated Ladies might me my 2nd favorite part.

Ed sings again! I think this is the same song he sang last year, but this time he sings it with Kaleena Kliff from Love, Sidney.

D0nny Osmond (he was only 24!) was the star on the turkey that year.

I don't understand why NBC is making their TV starts sing SO.MUCH. Even Kim Fields and Nancy McKeon from Facts of Life had to sing. Tootie had to sit in a kangaroo! Dave Winfield the baseball player sang too?!

Ann Miller sang to a teddy bear while on a dollhouse float that was leaning a lil. DonMcClean's float was shaking pretty wildly too.

Kermit made it! He looks good!

and then Kermit and Fozzie nearly committed car terrorism.

Underdog almost knocked some people out too.

There was an Opera rendition of Hansel & Gretel, which wasn't too great, but we got this witch!

Kool and the Gang came in on a giant butterfly!

Ok, so the good copy from New Orleans runs out at 2 hours, so if you wan to see the rest of the parade you have to watch the meh copy from Richmond, VA. You guys are welcome to watch the rest of the parade, but the video quality and sound quality is really bad. I can't even enjoy the old commercials they're so fuzzy. If anybody can find me a full copy that is in ... viewing condition? put it in the comments. If its before Thanksgiving, I'll watch it.

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[allol12]

Arcane Characters + Universal Studios Headcanons

Hi!! I wanna be more active on here and since I've hit a bit of an artblock I've decided I'll do my second favorite thing which is headcanons!

As a Floridian, I decided to start with a topic I am quite familiar with which is of course, Universal Studios. In this imaginary situation they have the 2 parks 1 day ticket bc that's the one I usually use.

Also this would be a modern setting for obvious reasons.

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

Jinx would 100% ride as many rollercoasters as she can. She rarely gets motion sickness.

If the lines weren't too long she would ride them multiple times all day long.

If they were, Cait and Vi would get sick of seeing her suffer through the long ass lines so they would just buy her an express ticket.

Ekko usually rides with her but he can only take so much.

When she was a little older, (still Powder by this point), Mylo tricked her into riding Jurassic Park (85 ft drop). He thought it'd just be a mean prank, little did he know he created a tiny adrenaline-seeking monster.

She would also violently compete against Caitlyn in Men in Black.

Favorite Universal Rides : Rip Ride Rocket, VelociCoaster, The Hulk, and Men in Black

Favorite Park: Islands of Adventure

I get the feeling Vi would be a foodie. And I can't blame her, theme park food is a lot of fun to explore. (I spent a good chunk of 2018 binge-watching DFBguide)

She would always try to go to a new restaurant every trip, and you will most likely find her chomping on a turkey leg.

When it comes to rides though, she also likes her fair share of rollercoasters. Though, she tries to ride them in the morning off the bat so she could eat in peace without feeling sick later.

I do think she'd like the 3D rides a lot too! I can definitely see her liking Transformers and Spider-Man.

Favorite Universal Rides : Hagrid’s Magical Creatures Motorbike Adventure, Rip Ride Rocket, Revenge of the Mummy

Favorite Park: Universal Studios

Caitlyn likes the Wizarding World of Harry Potter. I know this is a bit on the nose because her VA was literally in Harry Potter, but it's a good combo between atmosphere, thrill, shopping, and treats.

I don't think Caitlyn is too into rollercoasters. I think she'd be more into rides with movement and a few drops rather than full on coasters.

The HP rides are mostly pretty tame in comparison to the rest of the coasters in the parks, so I can see her liking those the most. Gringotts and Forbidden Journey in particular.

I think she'd definitely be the most into shopping, her favorite park would probably be Studios due to this.

She likes going to Honeydukes with Vi, they like trying all the different sweets and treats together.

Lets Jinx win in Men in Black because she knows if she beats her Jinx will be annoyed at her for the rest of the day. If she's not going against Jinx though, she would absolutely annihilate you.

Favorite Universal Rides : Gringotts, Forbidden Journey, Men in Black

Favorite Park: Universal Studios

This poor man has a horribly weak stomach.

Jayce is NOT a rollercoaster fan. He is strictly 3D and dark rides only, with very few exceptions.

Hell I think the Gringotts drop might be too much for him. Not the first cart, but the second cart for sure makes him feel uneasy. (I am projecting, sitting in the second cart was not fun for me LMAO)

I think he and Viktor would have a blast looking into the behind the scenes part of theme parks, especially the engineering element.

If they're in Universal Studios Hollywood they would absolutely do the Studio Tour.

With the level of charisma he has, I can see him LOVING meet and greets. He really loves playing along with the characters. By the end of the day he'll have his little autograph notebook full of characters.

Favorite Universal Rides : The Simpsons Ride, The Amazing Adventures of Spider-Man, Transformers

Favorite Park: Universal Studios

Viktor doesn't really mind rollercoasters. He wouldn't die on them like Jayce, but he doesn't actively seek to ride them. Maybe if the line was short and the group wanted to ride it, sure.

Actually speaking of lines, he would get an accessibility pass so he wouldn't have to stand for extended periods of time. He would also make sure to sit down and take breaks as to not strain his leg too much.

Breaks could also mean going to watch the many shows Universal provides, like the Horror Makeup Show or The Bourne Stuntacular.

Back to rides though, he likes, no, LOVES Transformers. It's fast, the queue is very scientific-esc, and honestly.. transformers just give me machine herald vibes.

He is very awkward when it comes to meet and greets, so he's usually just taking the picture for Jayce. However, the only meet and greet he really truly looks forward to is the Transformers. He is extremely fascinated with the way Universal was able to create such an immersive and realistic looking replica of them.

I think him and Jayce would be intrigued by the interactive wands in the Wizarding World of Harry Potter. They think it's fun that they found a way to create the illusion of magic by using sensors in the wands.

I think he'd like Forbidden Journey bc the ride makes you feel like you're flying, and he seemed to be having a blast in Ep 3 haha

Favorite Universal Rides : Transformers, Forbidden Journey, Skull Island: Reign of Kong (literally only to see that insanely realistic looking animatronic)

Favorite Park: Universal Studios

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

My god that took longer than I thought it would. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed! I adore theme parks so this was a lot of fun to do.

Also as a bonus, I have a little paper Viktor cut out that I take basically everywhere, including Universal! Here's him in front of the Universal ball haha

[foreveralwaysanauthor]

Melaka Mystica (Part 2/3)

November 27, 2023

Notes - This month has been pretty dang good as I got a car, marched in a parade, made Thanksgiving dinner on my own for the first time (and didn't burn anything other than my energy and my mom's only remaining brain cells 😂), but then my uncle's cat, Budweiser (Buddy) who was 17 and I loved as my own, passed away after getting his final fill of turkey. He was an amazing old boy and I'll miss him dearly, but at least he's with the rest of my family, getting all the attention he could ever want! Honestly, though, I'm proud of myself for getting this done before the end of the month with all that happened around me! This is pretty much just 33 pages of me going off the rails at 3am and typing until my hands hurt, but it's worth it in the end! Anyway, I might need to invest in a wrist brace for carpal tunnel at this point 🙈😂

You all are clearly in over your pretty, little heads.

Metal dragged across old bricks, scraping a pile of leaves into a growing heap by the side of the road. As much as Mick hated being relegated to raking the sidewalk outside of her family’s shop, it got her away from the overbearing smell of incense packets and burning sage. Ever since the incident on Halloween, she had been suffering through her days at work. Things at the store had never been difficult for her before Halloween, but if the books Miles had been sending her excerpts of were anything to go by, all of her new problems were partly due to the possession she’d faced. Whatever had possessed her that day had left lingering traces of itself in her, making it damn near impossible for her to get through a workday. Whatever it had been, must have hated sage and incense, which, if she thought about it, made sense as negativity was supposed to be pushed out with a sage cleansing.

Regardless of how often she stepped out to breathe, her headaches only increased when someone would pull an incense stick from the wicker basket by the shop door to see how it smelled. She had tried to use one of the aromatherapy inhalers Carrie had bought her - something the blonde said she used to keep her sinuses clear during the winter if she had a show to perform in - but those only helped so much in the little shop. With customers pulling incense sticks from their packages to smell them properly, teens opening candles or essential oils, and groups of kids on field trips being obnoxious during Carrie’s performances, Mick was ready to down a bottle of Tylenol and pass out.

Thankfully, business had slowed down a considerable amount once Halloween passed. However, there were still the odd tourists coming and going in search of souvenirs and regulars looking for new crystals or a refill of their favorite incense. Once the local schools let out, they would get swarms of children and teenagers alike, pushing and shoving their way into the small store for cheap drinks or snacks. Some days were better than others, where they would get mostly older people coming in for replacement items or wanting a tarot reading. However, there were days when there would be an ignorant, middle-aged person looking to speak with the manager or owner - someone other than some “twenty-something little shit,” as most of them put it. On days like those, Mick wondered why her parents would give her the store if she had to deal with people like that all day. 

Then again, they weren’t entirely retired, and people who knew and loved her parents would sometimes come in asking specifically for them. Mick never minded stepping into the back room and quickly calling either of her parents, asking them to stop by. After Halloween, however, the stress of everything had been too overwhelming. More often than not, Mick wanted nothing more than to call up her parents and give the shop back to them, telling them that she just couldn’t handle it. However, she had managed to fight through the first week of November without having to call her parents for anything more than a friendly visit and felt as though things would get better over time.

Then came the eleventh. Due to Veteran’s Day, the schools were closed, and the city’s parade was set to go through the streets, honoring those who had served in any branch of the military - alive or dead. Parade days meant busy business, and, to her dismay, many of those who had marched through the streets had come to the Coven’s Cottage for a hot cider and some of Mrs Murphy’s homemade cider donuts. With so many different emotions coming at her from everyone who stepped in the door, Mick got overwhelmed quickly. After a sobbing woman and her children came inside, Mick realized she was shaking like a leaf. After sending the girl to the back to calm down, Miles and Carrie were left to fend for themselves while an overwhelmed Mick hid in the break room to cry through the pain of a slaughtering migraine. Once things had calmed down and Mick was able to think properly, Miles convinced the brunette to wave her white flag, and she asked her parents for help. 

Later that night, Mick had Miles and Carrie go home with her as witnesses so that her parents would see that she wasn’t just talking out of her ass. With his previous knowledge of magic, Brady was, understandably, concerned for his daughter’s health and mental well-being and began pacing - showing an anxious, overthinking side of the man that none of the young adults had seen before. On the other hand, while Mack had no magical ties of her own, the woman was determined to find a way to help her only child, looking into books and articles that could help cleanse Mick of any lasting effects from her possession. After sitting the older couple down once more and having them take the time to read over some of the things Miles and Carrie had found in their research for Mick, Mack and Brady agreed to put their daughter on lighter duty at their family shop, resuming their original positions as co-owners.

While the slightly lesser traffic in the shop and her parents helping out made things a bit easier on Mick’s headaches, she still felt physically drained just sitting in her family’s shop. Unlike Vivien or Royce, she didn’t have the ability to say her lungs were tight when someone tried to light sage or incense or claim her blood pressure was acting out whenever she got dizzy sitting at the register. In reality, with her parents and friends hovering almost every day, she was forced to get out and walk around town more frequently, giving her some fresh air. However, on days when the air outside was sitting in the forties, and the wind was like a cruel slap to the face, Mick despised being sent outside. She knew that, all too soon, the air would be too cold to breathe without a scarf over her face, and the ice on the ground would make it too difficult to make it from one place to another without slamming into the sidewalk, but that didn’t make her appreciate the moderately chilly autumn. 

Heaving a huff of frustration as a nearby car barrelled down the street to beat a changing traffic light, the icy breeze dragging off of the vehicle and scattering her hard work into the wind, and Mick rolled her eyes. She was sick of raking meaningless piles of leaves, sick of being pushed aside and asked to do menial tasks just because she had a hard time sitting around in the shop. She could have been doing so much more to help out around the shop! She could organize the storage room, put new stock out on the shelves, or help give aura readings or something - anything! She was so tired of being useless to everyone she cared about.

With a shake of her head, Mick sucked in a breath and sighed before turning back toward the shop. The bell above the door chimed - a replacement for the cackling witch sound they had put up for Halloween - and Mick leaned the rake against the wall by the door before tugging her gloves and hat off and shoving them into the pockets of the maroon, fleece-lined coat her parents had bought her years ago. The pocket zippers had been melted open after she had unceremoniously tossed the coat in front of the heater once, the faux fur lining around the hood was slightly matted after having used it for so many frigid winters, and the elastics in the cuffs of the sleeves had lost their grip a long time ago, but the coat kept her warm and, to Mick, that was all that mattered.

The smell of burning sage filled the small shop, and although Mick would have usually taken a big whiff of it to calm herself, she refrained as a woman with a bag of incense sticks stepped around her to leave. As Mick ditched her coat on the rack behind the counter, she stepped up behind her mom and pressed a kiss to the woman’s cheek before taking a caramel from the dish on the counter and making her way to the back room to see if Miles and Carrie were on their breaks yet. Instead of finding the pair curled up on the couch, talking through the entirety of their break, Mick found her dad sitting in her usual chair, a cup of something in one hand and his phone in the other.

Smiling to herself as she decided to make her presence known, Mick asked, “What happened to doing a tarot reading for Mrs Anderson?”

Looking up from his device with a grin, Brady replied, “She got what she wanted and left already.”

“Let me guess,” Mick began as she perched herself on the armrest of her dad’s chair, “she thought her husband was cheating again and wanted to see if it was her sister or the new neighbor?”

“Almost,” Brady chuckled, placing his phone on his leg as he handed Mick his drink for her to try. “She thought it could be the mailman.”

Grateful she hadn’t taken a sip of her father’s drink, Mick let out a bark of laughter, “She thought Mr Anderson - the pastor of their church - was having an affair with her husband?”

Brady hummed, nodding in confirmation as he rhetorically asked, “Who doesn’t she accuse her husband of cheating with?” 

Mick snickered as she handed her father his drink, “Ironic from the woman who has been divorced five times because of her cheating.”

With a shrug, Brady said, “It’s not our place to judge.”

“True.”

After taking a sip of his drink, Brady said, “Your mom and I are heading out early to meet with some friends from school who are back in town for the week. Do you think you, Miles, Carrie, and the kids can handle the shop until closing?”

Nodding, Mick smiled at the idea as she said, “Yeah, of course. We handled it for months on our own before.”

Groaning at the twinge of pain that had grown familiar in his lower back, Brady regretted all of the reckless things he had done in his teen years as he pushed himself out of his chair. Despite only recently turning forty, his body felt as though it belonged to someone nearing eighty. Brady suppressed a grimace as he stretched before turning to his daughter and saying, “That was before you were possessed by ancient magic.”

Taking in a deep breath, Mick slowly nodded in understanding. Regardless of how much she despised how easily that was everyone’s excuse for giving her lighter tasks, Mick understood where they were coming from. If what happened to her had happened to anybody else in her immediate circle, she would have acted the same. Offering her dad a slight grin, Mick allowed him to lean down and press a kiss to her forehead before saying, “I get it, but honestly, I’m doing pretty well today.”

“Good,” Brady mused. “Try to keep it that way.”

“I will,” Mick claimed as the door to the basement opened, allowing Miles and Carrie to come in.

Brady hummed appreciatively before turning toward the young couple with a smile, “Did you two find that book I told you about?”

“We did,” Carrie said, offering the man her signature smile as Miles held up the thick hardcover book. “Do you really think it’ll help the kids?”

“It should,” Brady stated. “I didn’t get much use out of it, as you know, but it’s been in the family for many generations. If it helped them, why not let the kids use it?”

Miles nodded as he examined the book. The leather bindings were worn and peeling, the spine flexible yet delicate, and it smelled of an old library book that had been left on the shelves for a couple hundred years, but the pages were still crisp, and the ancient calligraphy was very clearly legible. While on the outside, the book certainly looked aged and well-loved, the pages still read as clear as day, making Miles question if it had some sort of protection charm that stood the test of time. Grinning to himself, Miles fleetingly wondered if the book in his hands was the origin of people saying not to judge books by their covers.

Lifting his gaze to meet Brady’s, Miles spoke, “Thanks again, Mr Birch. I know the kids would be interested in diving into actual spells and potions.”

Brady waved him off, “It’s not like I’m getting any use out of it, Miles. However, I do suggest asking your mother to help them with anything involving baking.”

“She is one of the best bakers in Salem,” Mick mused. 

Before Brady could say anything more, the back room opened, and his wife’s head poked inside. “I hate to interrupt,” Mack began, “but it’s almost two, Brady.”

Heaving a sigh, Brady clapped his hands and said, “Well, duty calls, kids.”

As her husband gathered his belongings, Mack asked, “Mick, honey, are you going over to Miles’ house after work?”

“I was thinking about it,” Mick shrugged. “The kids wanted to work on some beginner-level potions.”

“Are you staying for dinner?” Brady asked.

“She’d better,” Miles said before Mick could answer. “My mom said she’s making pizza casserole.”

Mick snickered, “I guess I’m staying for dinner then.”

“Alright,” Mack said with a smile, “well, we’ll be back home around six or seven to watch the eclipse if your father can get his butt in gear.”

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Brady claimed as he pulled his coat around his shoulders. Leaning down, Brady kissed the top of his daughter’s head before whispering to her, “Bring me back some of that casserole.”

“I will,” Mick said with a grin.

“You don’t need any casserole, Brady,” Mack claimed with a hint of a smirk tugging at her lips. “We’re going out to Hanna Devine’s.”

Brady’s expression said it all. Unlike most of the little bistros and restaurants in the city, Hanna Devine’s was a large building on the corner of a busy street that charged prices through the roof for a portion barely significant enough to qualify as a meal. Between the hassle of finding a parking spot and the extensive waitlist for a single table, the restaurant was usually only inhabited by insane people who didn’t mind paying forty dollars for a small piece of steak or twenty-five bucks for a side order of steamed vegetables. Despite attempting to get his point across with a pleading look, Brady found his wife’s piercing gaze and quickly schooled his expression as he sighed, “Yes, ma’am.”

Rolling her eyes with a smile, Mick turned her gaze back to her daughter and said, “If there’s enough, bring us both back some. Chances are, we’ll still be hungry when we leave.”

Making his way to the door of the room, Brady beamed, “This is why I love you.”

“Because I let you get leftovers?” Mack questioned as Brady kissed her cheek. “What about when we got married or when I had to endure nine months of Mick’s punches to my bladder?”

“Of course I loved you then,” Brady stated. “It’s just that I really wanted that casserole.”

“And because I let you have it,” Mack slowly stated, “that’s your primary reason for loving me now?”

As Brady floundered, scouring his mind for something to say, Mick snickered, “Way to word things, Dad.”

“Good luck getting out of that one,” Carrie chuckled.

“There’s a store you can stop at on the way to Hanna’s that sells shovels since you seem to be in a hurry to dig your own grave, Mr Birch,” Miles said with a grin.

“None of you are helping!” Brady exclaimed, looking around at the three young adults with a gleam in his eyes that begged for them to shut up.

Choosing to end her husband’s struggle, Mack snickered, patting him on the arm fondly, “I’m just screwing with you. Now, come on, let’s get on the road before school gets out, and we’re stuck behind eight different buses.”

With a sigh of relief, Brady relaxed, turning back toward the kids with a small smile as he said, “Be good, remember to lock up the shop, and please, for the love of all things holy, remember to bring us back some casserole if there’s any left.”

As Mick gave her dad a mock salute, Miles chuckled, “We’ve got everything under control.”

“Enjoy your dinner with friends,” Carrie said, offering the older couple a wave as they left the room. Once the door was closed, the blonde turned to Mick with a smile and asked, “How’re you feeling?”

“I’m fine, for once,” the brunette replied. “I haven’t had any headaches since this morning when the trash truck came, and I’ve gotten through most of the day without needing to step out.”

“That’s good,” Miles said thoughtfully as he set the book for the kids on the couch. “Do you feel up to taking the register until closing?”

Eager to feel useful again, Mick quickly nodded as she said, “Yeah, of course. Are you going to restock or are you going to pick up the kids?”

Checking his watch, Miles said, “I’ll probably pick them up. If I get there early and find their bikes, I’ll put them on the rack before the bell rings.”

Leading the way to the main room of the shop, Mick mused, “Soon, they’ll be needing a ride every day.”

“Especially since it snowed two nights ago,” Miles sighed as he rounded the counter.

“Don’t mention that word,” Carrie said with a shiver. “I was hoping it would hold off until Christmas or something and then never come back.”

“Wishful thinking,” Mick snorted.

Carrie sighed as she slumped against the counter, resting her chin in the palm of her hand, “At least we’re not supposed to get any more for a while.”

“When did you hear that?” Mick wondered.

Tugging her phone from her pocket and unlocking it, Carrie swiped around for a moment before showing her friend her weather app. “My phone says the next week or so is clear.”

Mick examined the weather listing before tapping on the screen, “We’ve got rain on Saturday and Wednesday, though. That can become snow if it gets cooler out.”

“But the app says it’s just rain,” Carrie said hopefully.

“It’s New England,” Miles chuckled as he zipped up his jacket. “The forecast lies.”

Carrie let out a resigned sigh, “I know, but I’m staying as optimistic as possible.”

“Good luck with that,” Miles muttered, his breath brushing across Carrie’s cheek as he leaned in for a kiss. “Do you guys want anything while I’m out?”

“A million dollars,” Mick joked.

“Weathermen who won't lie,” Carrie added.

“A will to live.” 

“Magical powers.”

Glancing between the pair, Miles sighed and rolled his eyes, “I meant things I can pick up from the gas station.”

“Ah,” Carrie breathed. “In that case, I’ll take some cherry Twizzlers.”

“I guess I’ll take some cheesy popcorn,” Mick said with a grin.

“Puffcorn or Smartfood?” Miles asked.

“Smartfood,” Mick said before thanking her friend.

“Weirdos,” Miles mused as he typed in their requests on his phone, knowing the pair would be sharing snacks in no time.

“Proud of it,” the two girls said in startling unison before turning to each other and laughing.

With a shake of his head and a fond smile, Miles pulled his keys out of his pocket and headed out the door, passing the shop’s picture windows on his way to his Jeep. Smiling to herself, Mick turned her attention to the music playing over the store’s speakers, switching the radio station to one she knew both she and Carrie enjoyed. As something other than smooth jazz filled the shop, Carrie bopped her head to the beat with a smile before turning her gaze to Mick once more. 

The last two weeks had felt like an eternity. She had watched Mick struggle the first couple of days - the brunette unable to pull herself out of her thoughts. Carrie had spent some time talking things over with Mick during that time, listening to her ramble nonsensically about all that had happened to her and all the struggles she faced. The first two days, Mick had been in a daze, operating on a repetitive cycle out of habit more than anything. Carrie spent a lot of time helping at the register as Mick would often stare off into space or lock herself away in the back room due to headaches. The first few days were difficult as Mick asked people to give her time to think and process, but it seemed to everyone that she had closed herself off from everything and everyone. 

Mick’s relationships with everyone who was there that night had grown strained in that time - the only ones not suffering being Butchy and Lela, as they were only there for the aftermath. Whilst saying they hadn’t always gotten along well in school was an understatement, Carrie and Mick had grown close after Miles started dating the blonde. Over time, a bond had formed, but after Mick’s possession, Carrie could feel the distance between them growing once more. Everyone could. Though the brunette never outright pushed anybody away, they all knew she had come close to it more than once.

Carrie had never seen Mick so despondent and detached as she was in those first days. It took Miles climbing the tree in the Birch family’s backyard and climbing in through Mick’s window for her to begin talking to anyone who had been there. Understandably, Miles was the first person she opened up to as they had always been inexplicably close, but then she opened up to Carrie, and the blonde got to see more of the girl’s inner thoughts laid out before her like a jigsaw puzzle.

The strain Mick felt was palpable. Her hurt was nearly insurmountable, the stress was overwhelming, and the pain she felt whilst reliving and retelling her side of things was evident in her eyes. It took just shy of a week before Mick felt comfortable having the kids around her again. The thought that whatever was left in her might come back to hurt the kids had plagued her night and day, but after hearing that Vivien blamed herself for the older girl being distant, Mick forced herself to meet with them in the Common. They sat on opposite sides of the pavilion Saturday night, Mick asking Miles to tie her to the table with a scarf to keep her from hurting anybody, and that was the first time Carrie felt like crying about Mick’s situation. The thought that the bubbly, doting brunette was so afraid of hurting the kids made Carrie saddened and sick at the same time. Mick didn’t deserve to be scared of every move she made.

By the end of their conversation that night, things had begun to heal, but anyone who knew them could still feel the remnants of strain between Mick and Vivien. Things were slowly getting better between them, but Carrie quickly took note of the wistful glimpses Vivien would sneak of the older girl. Though Carrie, like everyone else, was sure things would return to normal - or some semblance of it, at the very least - she knew it would take time. 

Listening to Mick hum along to the radio, Carrie glanced around to guarantee the shop was empty of customers before clearing her throat and asking, “Speaking of magical powers, I heard that Vivien was trying to find a way to give you some the other day.”

Brown eyes lifted from Mick’s phone and fleetingly met Carrie’s azure gaze before Mick shrugged and returned her focus to her phone, “She was, yeah.”

“I think it’s sweet that she’s trying so hard.”

To Carrie’s chagrin, Mick only shrugged again, “I guess so, but I wish she wouldn’t.”

“What do you mean?” Carrie questioned. “I thought you wanted powers like theirs?”

“That was before I was possessed,” Mick admitted, meeting Carrie’s gaze once more. “I would have done anything for some magic back then.”

“But now?”

“Now I’m scared to even think about having magic.”

Carrie’s smile faltered at the weight of Mick’s statement. In a way, she should have expected that to be Mick’s answer, but in reality, she hadn’t thought about it from the brunette’s perspective. Vivien had gone to Carrie looking for help researching how to give someone magic, and although the pair had spent hours scouring through old books filled with runes and spells and potions, they hadn’t found anything that would allow Vivien to do what she wanted to.

Attempting to appear unfazed, Carrie asked, “How come? With your family’s long, magical bloodline, I would’ve throught you’d want to follow them.”

“I did,” Mick sighed, setting her phone aside in favor of the conversation at hand. “I wanted it more than anything. But now that I know how dangerous I could be if I let power get to my head, I’m sort of glad my dad cut off the line when he did.”

Taking in a slow breath, Carrie asked, “That really bothered you, huh?”

Mick hummed with a nod, “It’s hard to act as though it doesn’t, but I’m trying. I just-” Mick cut herself off with a sigh, “I wish I never read that damn book.”

“What-?”

Before Carrie could get anything more out, Mick cut her off, “If I’d never read that book, I wouldn’t have to live with constant headaches or people looking at me like I’m made of glass or everyone acting as though they need to walk on fucking eggshells around me!” Stopping to take in a breath, Mick ran her hands over her hair before sighing, “What hurts the most is living with the fact that all of this is my fault.”

Though Carrie didn’t want to push her luck with Mick, she couldn’t stop herself from asking, “How on earth is any of this your fault?”

“If I hadn’t tried to weasel my way into magic,” Mick began slowly, meeting the blonde’s gaze with nothing but sincerity in her caramel eyes, “we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“It wasn’t like you read the book on purpose,” Carrie offered. “Even Butchy said that Casper knocked it over and you just read the first page you came across.”

“He’s right,” Mick confirmed, “but that doesn’t change the fact that, if I hadn’t made the black flame candle or been so determined to give myself magic, none of this would have happened.”

Carrie sighed, placing a hand on Mick’s arm in the hope that it offered the girl some semblance of comfort, “You don’t know that for a fact.”

“That’s just it,” Mick said, a dry, humorless chuckle falling from her lips as her exhausted brown eyes found Carrie’s vibrant blue, “I do.”

“Have a great night,” Royce said as he handed a paper bag to the last customer of the day. He didn’t know how Miles and the girls could handle working there all day, dealing with people in various moods, and handling children being generally obnoxious; he could only handle it for a few hours without wanting to leave. He didn’t mind most of the people who came and went, but there were a select few who were just pure negativity. While Mondays were usually slow in the shop, Royce was surprised to find the clock already ticking over to five as he looked up at the clock. Maybe the time had flown because he, Bentley, and Vivien had the chance to get their homework done between customers for once. Or, as Miles had teasingly suggested, it was due to the fact that he kept watching Vivien help people find crystals.

Royce discretely rolled his eyes at the thought - of course, Miles would tease him for something so small. It was payback for when Royce teased the shit out of Miles when he got with Carrie. Although Miles kept his relationship with Carrie under wraps from their mom, he hadn’t been so lucky when it came to his brothers. At first, his relationship with Carrie was nonexistent, but after a little over a year of them being together and seeing their mom gradually grow to enjoy having the blonde around, Royce found himself not minding Carrie nearly as much as he had initially. Now that he got along alright with Carrie, it was easier to tease Miles about the relationship, ironically giving Miles the right to tease him about Vivien in return.

It wasn’t like Miles and Bentley hadn’t teased him about his fondness for Vivien long before Carrie came into the picture, but it seemed as though Miles felt the situation evened out the playing field. It made sense in a way. Not only was Vivien one of his best friends, but everyone around them knew he had a thing for her. It wasn’t exactly a secret. In a way, he was sure Vivien knew as well, but he couldn’t tell how she felt on the matter. She never pushed him away - it wasn’t in her nature to anyway - but she also never acted upon what was going on. If she felt anything toward him, she never said, but then again, he never really did either. All he knew was that he adored her and, regardless of her feelings toward him, he would care about her until she told him to do otherwise.

Tearing his gaze away from Vivien once more as the door clicked shut, the bells tinkling a final farewell, Royce took in a deep breath and looked around the store for his younger brother. Almost on cue, Bentley pushed himself from his seat on the floor where he’d been reading comic books and scurried to the door, flipping the lock into place with a smile. Turning back to his brother and Vivien, the blond excitedly asked, “Is it potion time now?”

Chuckling as Royce tugged the cash register drawer from its confines, Vivien nodded, “I think it is.”

Setting the drawer on the shelf under the register, Royce leaned against the counter and asked, “Why don’t you go back and tell them that the lady finally left and that we can leave?”

Sending his brother a mock salute, Bentley beamed and set his comic book on the counter before saying, “Sir, yes, sir,” and taking off for the back room, the door swinging back and forth upon his departure. Royce shook his head, sighing as Bentley disappeared. For the greater part of the last week, he’d been subjected to Bentley’s ramblings on potions and which ones he was willing to make. While Royce was glad his younger brother was excited, he sort of wished it wasn’t the only thing they talked about when nobody else was around.

Vivien chuckled, leaning against the counter with a smile, “You know, I think it’s pretty cool that he’s so interested in all this witchy stuff.”

“Yeah, it is,” Royce agreed with a nod. Taking in a breath, Royce began sorting the money from the cash register as Vivien picked up the logbook and started writing down how many of each bill they had. As he finished with the twenties and set them aside, Royce turned to Vivien and asked, “Wait, didn’t you say something earlier about a magic thing you needed to talk about?”

Penciling in the number of bills Royce had counted, Vivien glanced up and nodded, “I did, but let’s finish this first and we’ll talk with the others about it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Mhm.”

Despite his visible skepticism, Royce gave the brunette a slight nod and said, “Alright, if you’re sure.”

Vivien nodded her confirmation before urging Royce to continue counting. By the time they were done and the money was put into the safe under the register, the shop’s speakers had been turned off, and the streetlamps outside were on, moths fluttering around them and casting shadows on the sidewalk. Closing the safe and locking it, Vivien followed Royce to the back room where Mick and Miles were debating whether the herbs they had received in the latest shipment should be placed with the hanging herbs or ground and placed with the jars of herbs while Bentley talked Carrie’s ear off on the couch. As Royce latched the swinging door to keep it from moving, Mick paused in her tirade, glancing over at the young pair as they entered the room.

Sensing Mick’s gaze as the conversations in the room stalled, Vivien slowly turned in the older girl’s direction, raising a hand in a wave as she spoke, “Hey.”

“Hey,” Mick returned as Miles dropped the issue in favor of observing the interaction. Vivien and Mick hadn’t talked often since Halloween, and although Miles had encouraged both of them to step up and put in the effort, his advice seemed to go in one ear and out the other as the two danced on eggshells around each other. After Miles nudged his longtime friend, encouraging her to put in a bit more effort, Mick smiled and said, “I like your hoodie.”

Vivien glanced down and allowed herself to grin. Her blue and yellow hoodie had been bought off of Etsy and was embroidered with a subtle nod toward the most recent Five Nights at Freddy’s game - a small logo for the Security Breach’s daycare declaring Vivien as a staff member. She had bought more than just the one hoodie from the Etsy shop, blasting her way through most of her first official paycheck as she bought one of each of her favorite characters’ fleece hoodies and matching sweatpants. Despite her love of the game, Vivien had chosen to take the more discreet route in choosing her outfit for the day, keeping things moderately simple to avoid unnecessary attention. Although her hair had covered the design for most of the day, she had pulled her hair back while counting the money, so it seemed only fitting that the one person who had gotten her interested in the franchise was also the one to notice the detail. 

Lifting her head, Vivien smiled and began indirectly quoting the game, “I figured we could finger paint, tell some stories, maybe drink some Fizzy Fazz until our heads explode, and then stay up all night.”

“As fun as that sounds,” Carrie began, “I would much rather we keep our heads intact, thank you very much.”

Sighing as she theatrically rolled her eyes, Vivien huffed, “You’re no fun!”

Mick let out a slight snicker, “As long as we keep the lights on, I doubt any of us will lose our heads.”

As Vivien snorted, dissolving into giggles at Mick’s hinted joke, Carrie glanced between the pair and said, “I’m just going to assume that’s something from the game.”

“It is,” Bentley confirmed.

“And you’re not missing much,” Miles added as he crossed the room to gather his belongings.

“Just a murderous animatronic daycare attendant who hunts you down and kills you if you turn the lights off,” Royce finished with a smirk aimed at the blonde, “that’s all.”

“That’s all?” Carrie echoed, mildly concerned that they had all found an interest in such a game. Attempting to process the thought as both Royce and Bentley nodded in confirmation, Carrie’s eyes widened slightly before closing as she shook her head and sighed, “I don’t know how you can find that entertaining.”

“You would if you played it,” Vivien chuckled. 

“Doubtful.”

Choosing to steer the conversation away from the topic at hand, Miles leaned against the armrest of the couch and tucked his hands into his pockets as he said, “Anyway, does anyone need to grab anything before we go?”

Despite the others shaking their heads, Royce said, “Viv said she wanted to talk about something after closing.”

Though she hated the feeling of having everyone’s eyes on her, Vivien was surprisingly calm as she nodded, “I did, yeah.”

“What’s up?” Bentley asked as he moved to sit criss-cross on the couch.

Taking a deep breath as Mick pulled a chair out from the table they usually ate lunch at on weekends and sat down, Vivien thought back to her time at school as she said, “I was on my way to the vending machine at school and I ran into Serena.”

“How is she doing now that she and that other girl have gone their separate ways?” Carrie asked.

“Yeah,” Mick began, “are they leaving you guys alone now?”

“I mean, yeah, but that’s not the point,” Vivien said. “The point is, when I went to walk around her, she grabbed my arm and it was like the whole school lost color.”

Curiously, Miles’ head tipped to the side as he asked, “Like the lights went out?” 

“I didn’t notice anything,” Bentley mentioned.

“No, not like that,” Vivien sighed. Taking a moment to think of something to compare it to, Vivien gestured to the group as she spoke, “Okay, do you guys remember that scene from Harry Potter where Harry meets Dumbledore in the limbo version of the train station and there’s that creepy Voldemort thing under the bench?”

As everyone began nodding, Mick asked, “After Voldemort tried killing him in the forest?”

Vivien nodded, “Exactly. Serena held my arm and the whole school looked like that. Then, when I looked back at her, she was standing in some kind of glass case, banging on the walls and screaming.”

As though Vivien had unplugged a hidden speaker, the room grew silent. Carrie’s sapphire eyes flickered to Mick before landing back on Vivien as Mick’s chocolate eyes flitted down to the floor. Miles took in the seriousness and sincerity in Vivien’s face before moving his gaze onto Mick, wondering to himself if what Vivien described was something she had seen two weeks prior. As Bentley searched Vivien’s face for any sign that she was joking, Royce took a seat beside his younger brother. 

Looking up at Vivien, the middle Murphy brother asked, “Is that why you looked so pale when I found you?”

“That’s part of it,” Vivien nodded. “My blood pressure was low anyway, but the whole Serena thing didn’t exactly help.”

Miles uncrossed his arms as he asked, “How are you now?”

“I’m fine, but that’s not what matters right now,” Vivien sighed. “After Serena let me go, everything around us went back to normal, but there was something about her that just felt off to me.”

Cautiously, Carrie asked, “Like what?”

“Like she wasn’t herself,” Vivien explained. 

“She’s always kind of snarky and rude,” Royce mused with a roll of his eyes.

Vivien nodded, “Well, yeah, but there was this sort of direct, emotionless, borderline-cold tone under it all. It was kind of like - well, I don’t know, actually. It’s hard to describe.”

For the first time since Vivien explained what her interaction with Serena was like, Mick spoke, her tone soft but tense as she asked, “Sort of like she was in the car, but someone else was at the wheel?”

Vivien’s head turned, slowly finding Mick’s form as the brunette’s head lifted, her dark eyes finding Vivien’s with relative ease. Taking in the older girl’s expression, Vivien took in a breath and slowly nodded as she muttered, “Yeah.”

Although the room had grown tense, Carrie scooted to the edge of her seat and attempted to smile as she suggested, “That doesn’t mean Serena’s possessed. She could be having trouble at home or something; that can change someone’s behavior.” 

“But what about the vision Viv saw?” Bentley asked.

Before Carrie could answer, Mick spoke again, “From what I remember, I never gave anybody visions.”

“You didn’t,” Miles confirmed with a slight shake of his head, “but that doesn’t rule it out entirely.”

Trying to offer something other than the worst possible scenario, Carrie stood from the couch and made her way to the growing pile of books the kids had left by the bookshelf as she said, “What if it’s something different entirely?”

“Like what?” Royce asked sarcastically. “It sounds a lot like Serena is possessed.”

“And maybe she is,” Carrie said as she began pulling books from the pile and setting them aside. Taking a book from the stack with a smile, Carrie held it up for the others to see as she asked, “But what if there’s a different way to go about this? That way, we don’t have to go about doing another exorcism.”

“What do you have in mind?” Mick asked as Carrie began flipping through the old, worn book.

“My first thought was astral projections,” Carrie confessed. “I’ve been looking through some of these books to see if I could figure out how the kids’ abilities could branch into other forms of magic over time and training, but the only one to offer any help was this one.”

Peering over the blonde’s shoulder as the pages flicked by, Vivien asked, “What did you find?”

Carrie hummed until she found the proper page, pointing to an extensive paragraph as she began reading aloud, “‘Astral projection, also known as astral travel or out-of-body experience, is the practice of separating one’s consciousness from their physical body and traveling to the astral realm. The astral realm is said to be a non-physical realm that exists parallel to the physical world, where energy and consciousness exist in a different form. In this realm, one can explore different planes of existence, communicate with spirits and other entities, and gain a deeper understanding of themselves and the universe. Some records in history suggest that witches as far back as medeival times used these projections to communicate with others possessing the same abilities. One of the most infamous records of astral projection was written by a supposed witch who was later hung for witchcraft during the Salem Witch Trials. The document speaks of witches talking to one another on another plane of existence, warning other accused witches of what was to come.’”

Following along as best as she could over Carrie’s shoulder, Vivien said, “That could be what happened.”

“It sounds like it,” Bentley mused.

“I would prefer that over having to deal with another possessed person roaming through Salem,” Mick piped up.

“Hang on,” Royce began as he stood from his seat. “What if it’s both?”

“Both?” Miles asked.

Royce nodded, “What if the real Serena is possessed, but she’s projecting to Vivien as a way of asking for help?”

After a moment of silence passed over the room, Mick said, “That makes sense. When I was possessed, it felt like I was trapped inside myself. The real Serena being trapped inside a glass box is sort of fitting.”

“So,” Bentley drawled as he glanced around at everybody, “what do we do about it?”

“We could lure her to the church,” Miles offered.

“No, we can’t,” Mick sighed. “Most of the churches in the area are either having meetings for Thanksgiving food donations or hosting events tonight.”

“How did you find that out?” Royce asked with a raised eyebrow.

“My parents were going to use one of the dining halls for their school reunion,” Mick shrugged.

“Alright,” Vivien breathed. “Where else could we take her?”

“What about a cemetery?” Carrie suggested. “Those are hallowed ground, right?”

“Yeah, because nothing screams serial killer quite like luring someone to a cemetary after dark,” Royce snipped, earning himself a nudge to the ribs from Bentley.

“How about we lure her to our house?” Miles offered.

“Are you insane?” Bentley asked as everyone else began arguing over the thought. “Not only would it be stupid to bring a possessed witch to our house, but Mom’s home tonight. If Serena tries to fight us, we can’t fight back in front of her.”

“Hear me out,” Miles began. Once the room was quiet once more, he continued, “Because mom bakes a lot, she’s got a ton of salt in the pantry. If we go around the house and put up a salt ring to protect ourselves inside the house, Serena can’t touch us.”

“Her magic would bounce off,” Mick said thoughtfully. 

Miles nodded, “Exactly.”

Once the concept had settled within everyone’s minds, Royce spoke up, “How are we going to get her there?”

Before Miles could come up with anything, Carrie gestured between Vivien and Royce as she asked, “Do either of you share a class with her that has a test coming up; something that would require a lot of notes for?”

Vivien shook her head, “We both have science with her, but we don’t have any tests until next Friday.”

“I have geography with her,” Royce sighed. “We’ve got a test on Thursday for the semester’s closing grades.”

“Well,” Carrie began, a devilish smile tugging at her glossy lips, “you could text her and say that you have a bunch of notes for the test that she can use if she needs them.”

“How would that draw her in?” Miles wondered.

“Normally, it wouldn’t,” Vivien explained, “but if she is possessed, whatever it is won’t know that.”

“Exactly,” Carrie agreed, beaming proudly at the brunette.

Royce thought for a moment before slowly speaking, “So I lure her to the house with geography notes - that much I get - but what do we do after that?”

“We’ll figure it out as we go,” Mick said as she rose from her seat. “For now, let’s gather some protection crystals and get going before we lose our opportunity.”

“What do you suggest?” Carrie asked.

Instead of answering directly, Mick turned to Vivien on her way to the front of the shop and asked, “Vivien?”

“What?” the young brunette asked as she followed Mick to the shop.

With a proud smile, Mick held the door open for the others as she explained, “This is your area of expertise, gremlin; what do you think?”

As a surge of pride coursed through Vivien’s veins, she beamed. Reining herself in, Vivien glanced over the round tables covered in baskets of crystals before humming, “Maybe some black obsidian or malachite to keep toxic energy away, and moldavite for some good luck?”

Royce and Bentley descended on the tables, pulling crystals from their containers and tucking them in their pockets before making their way back to where Vivien and Mick stood. “Anything else?” Bentley asked.

“What about fluorite or citrine?” Royce asked. “You said those are pretty lucky.”

“They are,” Vivien agreed, “but more for personal luck than anything.”

“I think we should be good with what we’ve got,” Mick said. “I have some sage in my car that we can leave on the front steps to ward off any evil intentions.”

“And we’ll have enough salt to keep her out just in case,” Miles agreed as he fished his keys from his pocket.

Clapping her hands together, Carrie smiled as she said, “In that case, let’s hit the road before it gets much darker out.”

Though the others followed Carrie and Miles to the back room to lock up, Vivien stared at the crystals before her, wondering if she had made the right call. Glancing back over her shoulder at the group, Vivien sighed and took a step forward, shoving a small slab of black onyx, a few pieces of smithsonite, and a couple of shards of moonstone into her pocket before turning and following the others out, slipping the lock into place behind her. Trailing behind the others, Vivien picked up the pace, pulling the already locked door closed after grabbing her coat and backpack from the hooks on the back wall and rushing to catch up with the others who had already begun rounding the building. As she tugged on her coat, Vivien allowed Bentley to hold the gate open for her, thanking him as she slung her backpack strap onto her shoulder.

Miles unlocked his Jeep and opened the passenger side doors for his brothers and girlfriend as Mick made her way to the beat-up Volkswagen she had bought from one of the older guys who frequented the shop. Before Viviuen could climb inside the Jeep, Miles closed the door behind Bentley. “Not so fast, kid.”

Looking up at her pseudo-older brother, Vivien raised an eyebrow and asked, “What; are you planning on shoving me in the trunk?”

“Not after last time,” Miles said with a snort. “Look, Ethan left his junk in the back seat this morning and I barely have enough room for the boys as it is.”

Noticing the way Miles refused to look her in the eyes, Vivien sighed, “You just want me to ride with Mick, don’t you?”

Apologetic, icy blue eyes flickered up to meet Vivien’s as the brunette crossed her arms over her chest. “Sorry, mon étoile, but I think she needs you now.”

Slowly tearing her gaze away from Miles and letting her eyes drift onto the older brunette who appeared to be struggling to open her old bus’ driver’s door, Vivien let out a deep sigh, “Fine, but you owe me.”

“I know,” Miles said with a gracious smile, bringing an arm around the girl as he walked her to the back of the Jeep. “Thank you, kiddo.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Vivien brushed off, leaning her head against Miles for a moment before moving out from his hold and making her way to the old Volkswagen just a few parking spaces down. Upon approaching the vehicle, Vivien called out, “Did you lock yourself out again or something?”

Jumping at the sudden voice, Mick looked up and laughed, “For once, no. The doors have been sticking lately because of the cold. Do you think you could climb in through the passenger side and kick it open?”

“Why not just climb in before me and we can go?” Vivien asked, gesturing to the car as Miles started his Jeep.

“I have the door partially open and it won’t stop dinging unless I close it, but how come you’re riding with me?” Mick asked as she let go of the latch. “I thought you’d be riding with Miles and Carrie.”

Vivien shrugged in an attempt to act nonchalant as she rounded the large vehicle and yanked the passenger door open, “Ethan left a bunch of shit in the car, so there’s no room, but I also just wanted to ride with you anyway.”

“You do?” Mick asked as she stepped away from the door, her voice muffled by the thick metal and glass of the car.

“Well, yeah,” Vivien said as she dropped into the driver’s seat and began kicking the door. Once the heavy door popped open, she leaned out to Mick and said, “I feel like we haven’t really hung out since Halloween and I miss you.”

Hoping the younger girl couldn’t see the pain in her eyes as she took her spot in the driver’s seat, Mick spoke softly, “I miss you too, gremlin.”

As the old bus’ engine roared to life and the clunky radio sputtered through static to the first available station, Vivien tugged her seatbelt on and offered the girl to her left a smile as she said, “I’m sort of glad you missed me.”

“You are?” Mick asked as she pulled onto the streets behind Miles’ Jeep. “How come?”

“It felt like you were shutting me out after everything that happened,” Vivien admitted as she watched the shop’s storefront disappear in the rearview mirror.

“I’m sorry,” Mick muttered. “Things have been hard since Halloween.”

“I get it,” Vivien nodded, looking over to the older girl. “Believe me, after almost setting our kitchen on fire the other night, I get it.”

Despite offering the younger girl a laugh, Mick shook her head, “Somehow, I don’t think it’s quite the same.”

Vivien chuckled but took in a deep breath as she admitted, “I get what you mean, though. Things just aren’t the same anymore.”

“They aren’t.”

For a while, the only noise in the car was the radio between them, the sound of Harry Styles’ voice coming through the faint static of the scratchy speakers as his song As It Was began playing just loud enough to be heard over the engine. Vivien tried not to scoff at the irony of the situation, choosing to take in a slow, deep breath as she softly admitted, “Sometimes, I wish we never got magic in the first place.”

Pulling to a stop at a red light, Mick’s dark eyes flitted over to her young friend as she asked, “Why on earth would you want that?”

A ghost of a grin tugged at Vivien’s lips as she turned to Mick and admitted, “If we never got our magic, things never would have changed. The boys and I wouldn’t have to keep secrets from everyone we care about, we would all be able to live normal lives, you never would have been possessed…” taking in a deep breath, Vivien allowed her words to drift off and looked away as she finished, “you and I would still be close.”

“We can be close again,” Mick reminded her as she reached over and took hold of Vivien’s hand. “We can go back to our mall trips and sleepovers and stuff. It’ll just take some time getting there again.”

“I know,” Vivien breathed, squeezing Mick’s hand as she turned back toward the older girl. “It’s just… there are times when I miss just being a normal girl - worrying about prom and grades and friendships instead of having to worry about setting fire to my chemistry lab or summoning some ancient demon because I read a spell wrong.”

Sending the girl a wary look as the light turned green, Mick asked, “You didn’t actually do those things, did you?”

“No,” Vivien laughed as Mick pulled away from the traffic light. “I’m just saying that things were easier before and I sort of miss having that simplicity.”

Nodding in understanding, Mick took in a deep breath and said, “Well, if it means anything to you, I think you guys are doing amazingly. You’ve really come into your powers.”

“Thanks,” Vivien said with a smile. “I just wish I could give you some of it.”

Sending the girl a quick smile as she turned onto Forrester Street, Mick said, “I know you do, gremlin, but I guess some things just aren’t meant to be.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Mick said as she pulled into the driveway behind Miles. “I’ve sort of come to terms with it all.”

“That’s good, I guess,” Vivien offered.

“It is.” As Mick pushed her door open and released Vivien’s hand, she said, “Just know that I’m grateful to be able to watch you and the boys grow into your magic.”

“Thanks, Mickie,” Vivien said with a smile.

Mick nodded before siding out from her side of the car and slamming the door shut, making her way to the front of the vehicle, where Vivien met up with her. Following the others inside through the garage, Royce said, “I texted Serena, and she said she would be over after having something for dinner.”

“That should give us more than enough time to salt the house,” Miles said. 

Bentley hurried up the steps to the door leading inside the house as he said, “I’ll distract Mom if you guys want to start grabbing salt.”

Stepping inside the kitchen, however, the group was surprised to find Dorothea tending to the crock pot on the kitchen counter. The older woman turned to her children and their gaggle of friends with a smile as she spoke, “You’re late.”

“Sorry, Mama,” the Murphy brothers replied on instinct.

Dorothea brushed them off with a slight wave before urging them into the kitchen, “Come get a bowl. I think we’ll eat in the living room tonight. We can watch a movie if you’d like.”

Cautiously stepping up to fulfill his role, Bentley said, “That sounds great, Mama, but can we set aside some food for Mick’s parents first? They’re going to something at Hanna Devine’s, and they said they’d still be hungry later.”

“That’s fine,” Dorothea claimed, glancing over Bentley at the girl in question. “You should know I always make enough for leftovers.”

“Thanks,” Mick said with a smile. 

As soon as the woman turned to pull bowls from the cabinet, Miles grabbed Royce by the wrist and pulled toward the pantry. However, before they could do more than open the door, Dorothea’s voice stopped them, “Not so fast, boys.” Stilling against the door, Miles and Royce shared a startled look before leaning back to see their mother slowly turn back toward them with a knowing look on her face. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Grabbing popcorn for movie night?” Royce offered tentatively.

“No need, I already got it out,” the older woman said, gesturing to the box of microwavable popcorn bags on the counter. “What were you looking for this time? More salt?”

Miles tried to appear as nonchalant as possible as he stammered, “Wh-What? What are you- what do you mean?”

“Don’t think I didn’t notice all of my salt going missing on Halloween,” Dorothea said with a shake of her head. “Or Royce’s laundry not needing to be done at all in the last two weeks, or the cookies in the jar never moving despite the crumbs all over the counter, or Bentley’s chocolate milk magically refilling every morning when I’m not looking.”

Stunned by the woman’s intuition, Bentley’s eyes widened as he slowly turned back toward his mom and asked, “You saw that?”

“I’m not blind, mon âme,” Dorothea told Bentley, a glimmer of something knowingly mischievous in her eyes as she smiled at her youngest. “Even without my own magic, I would be able to figure it out eventually.”

“Your own magic?” Carrie repeated curiously.

“You have magic?” Mick asked.

“That I do, lutin d’eau,” Dorothea said with a nod. “How else would my children have their abilities?”

“My parents don’t have magic,” Vivien said with a shrug.

Sending the young girl a look that made her begin doubting herself, the woman asked, “Are you sure about that?”

Vivien opened her mouth to reply but found the words dying off in her throat as she slowly admitted, “Not anymore.”

“So, wait,” Miles began, “Mom, you’re a witch?”

Dorothea nodded, “Have been since I was about sixteen, yes.”

“And you knew we had magic?” Royce asked.

“It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that out,” Dorothea chuckled. “Most people who have had their magic for a while can tell when another magical person is around. The energy is different.”

“What are your powers?” Bentley asked.

Gesturing to the food on the counter, Dorothea claimed, “Most of the time, I use magic in my foods. Before you leave the house, I make breakfast with protection charms or herbs. Before bed, you have some of my special cookies to make you sleep peacefully. I make sure that, no matter what, you are protected and happy while eating the things you like.”

Although every other person looked reasonably impressed with the matriarch’s claim, Miles was the first to ask, “How did we not know?”

“Because it’s all you’ve ever known from me,” Dorothea shrugged as she leaned against the counter. “I wasn’t always a master chef or baker.”

With his jaw practically on the floor, Royce grinned as he asked, “Have you ever spelled us without us knowing?”

“Of course,” the woman replied. “Why do you think I always offered you goodies when you thought you would be in trouble?”

“Those were magic brownies?” Vivien asked, stepping up to the woman and rifling through one of the overhead cabinets before pulling down a glass jar of cookies and brownies. Setting the jar on the counter and pulling a brownie from the jar, she asked, “Can I have one? What will it make me do?”

Curious to see the outcome, Dorothea smirked and gestured for the girl to eat the baked treat, “Why don’t you tell me?”

Vivien eyed the brownie for a moment before quickly taking a bite, keeping anyone from stopping her. As Carrie gasped and Mick and Miles stepped closer, Dorothea raised a hand and shook her head with an amused smile, making them stop in their tracks as Vivien hummed around the brownie, “You always make the best brownies.”

“Thank you,” Dorothea chuckled. 

“No, like, seriously,” Vivien muttered as she swallowed. “I swear, if I ever get married, I would want a giant tray of just your brownies instead of a cake.”

“I’ll be sure to write that down,” the woman said with a smile. “Now, do me a favor and turn toward your friends.”

Not one to disobey the woman, Vivien turned, fluttering the fingers of her free hand in greeting as she took another bite of her brownie, “Now what?”

“Tell me what you think of each of them.”

Glancing curiously at the older woman, Vivien shrugged and swallowed the food in her mouth before allowing her gaze to land on Miles as she spoke, “Miles is the older brother I always wanted but never got. I can always call him if I need help with anything, and he’s supportive of everything I do. If it weren’t for him and Riven, I would be overworking myself constantly and struggling with a lot of mental health issues.”

Despite appearing minutely worried for Vivien as she took a final bite of her brownie, Miles’ expression softened as he asked, “Really?”

“Yeah,” Vivien said, clapping her hands together to rid them of crumbs. “I have a tendency to throw myself into things without any regard for my own well-being, but you always make me step back and think first. Riven helps when he can, but you’re always there for me, sort of like the big brother I always pictured in my head, but never got in real life.”

Before Miles could say anything more, Dorothea nudged the girl and asked, “What about Mick, Carrie, or the boys?”

“Well,” Vivien began, “Mick has known me since I was a baby and has been looking out for me like a sister for as long as I can remember. We used to hang out a lot, but since she was possessed on Halloween, she’s been distant.” Mick’s gaze fell to the old, creaky planks of wood beneath her feet, but she didn’t get much time to think as Vivien said, “I don’t know how to approach her most of the time, but I love her no matter what.” 

Carrie placed a hand on Mick’s arm, sending the brunette a smile as her gaze snapped up to Vivien once more. “We’ll work on it together,” Mick offered.

“I know,” Vivien said. “Anyway, as for Carrie, I wasn’t sure what to think of you growing up because Mick said you were stuck up and prissy, but Miles liked you because you because you got along really well when you worked together on a project. Also, when the town was doing The Wizard of Oz a few years back, I wanted to be Dorothy, but you got the role instead because I was way too young, and I didn’t like that at the time which made me not like you until we started working on the show together and you were actually pretty cool with me. I really like you now and think that you’re a great addition to our little group.”

Despite the evident confusion on Vivien’s face as she finished speaking, Carrie’s signature smile appeared as she thanked the younger girl. Before giving Vivien the chance to ask questions, Dorothea cut in, “What about Bentley? How do you feel about him?”

As though a rubber band had snapped her back into place, Vivien’s gaze landed on Bentley, and she began, “Bentley is a lot like Oliver, and I would protect him with my life if I had to. He’s like this little golden retriever puppy that just showed up in my life one day, and I decided to keep him out of love. Even though he plays it off like no big deal, he’s very talented and is very emotionally intelligent. He knows when someone isn’t feeling right and will go out of his way to help them. He’s been family to me practically my whole life, and I think that, if platonic soulmates are a thing, he’s definitely one of mine.”

Deciding to wrap everything up instead of talking about what Vivien had said, Bentley looked to Royce and gestured to him as he asked, “What about Rolls?”

“Actually,” Dorothea interrupted, placing a hand over Vivien’s mouth before the girl could give more information than she wanted to, “I think that’s enough for now.”

As the woman slowly released Vivien and handed her the glass of water she had been sipping out of while making dinner, Vivien asked, “What was in that thing?”

“That was one of my truth-seeking brownies,” Dorothea claimed. “With a small dose of a potion mixed in the chocolate, one bite would make the one eating it tell the truth until the magic wore off with time or, in this case, water. Anytime the boys would get into trouble growing up, I would give them something like this to make sure I knew what had actually happened.”

“So that’s how you got me to tell you about the broken vase!” Bentley exclaimed accusatorily. Although Bentley hadn’t been the one to break their mother’s newly made, handmade vase - Royce had - he hadn’t been able to keep things under wraps long enough to fix the vase himself. His mom had given him a fresh-from-the-oven cookie, and he found himself spilling the beans without hesitation. He hadn’t thought much of it at the time as he had a tendency to ramble things without thinking, but now that his mother had made it clear that she was the reason, it all made sense.

“That’s right,” Dorothea said with a nod. “We can speak more about it later. For now, who would like to tell me why you feel the need to sneak into the pantry?”

Before giving anyone else a chance to speak, Vivien blurted, “One of our friends from school might be possessed by dark magic, and she’s coming here to get notes from Royce, so we planned on making a salt ring around the house to keep her from coming in.”

With a raised eyebrow, Carrie asked, “I thought you said water was supposed to get rid of the truth potion?”

“It takes a few minutes to work through,” Dorothea explained as she patted Vivien on the shoulder sympathetically.

“Oh, yay,” Vivien sighed sarcastically.

“Anyway,” Dorothea began as she turned toward the rest of her children and their friends, “since what she says is true, we’ll need to work fast. Miles, Carrie, and Mick, you three stay with me. I have some sage and other herbs we can hang by the doorway to ward off dark magic. Royce, Vivien, and Bentley, you three take the salt and follow each other around the house with it. The thicker the salt, the better. Just make sure it isn’t too obvious and keep the line as close to the front door as possible.”

As Vivien followed Bentley and Royce to the pantry to retrieve the salt, Dorothea turned the slow cooker onto low heat and waited for the kids to run outside through the back door before heading into the pantry and sliding open a panel on the back wall. Inside was a rotating, lazy-Susan-style shelving unit filled with bottles that contained either liquids, jars of various ground items, or herbs, and a rack of wrapped herbs dangling from above.

Examining the hidden unit, Miles asked, “When was that built?” 

“Not long after your father left,” Dorothea answered as she began pulling things from the shelves. Holding out a bundle of wrapped sage, she said, “Now, split this evenly between you three and go smudge the doorways and windows while I make up a quick potion to drizzle over the salt circle. By the time the kids are done and the potion is ready, the girl should be on her way over.”

Without any argument, Miles took the sage from his mother and began unwrapping it, heading into the kitchen to grab a lighter from near the stove before handing out sage to Mick and Carrie. Watching her son and his friends move toward the front of the house, Dorothea took in a deep breath and pulled out her cell phone, tapping a few different things before bringing up the group chat she had with Mick’s parents, letting them know their daughter had arrived safely, and they would set aside some food for them. After receiving a message from Mack in return, thanking her for letting them know, Dorothea pocketed her phone once more and silently prayed that she would be able to protect the children in her care as she closed the pantry once more.

Before she could make her way to the living room, though, the door leading to the garage opened, and a faint surge of fiery power coursed through her. Curious, Dorothea turned and watched as a head of shoulder-length blonde hair pulled into a pair of half-up space buns stepped into the house, ditching a messenger backpack on the floor next to the door as it closed. Kona was quick to tug her detachable roller skates from her sneakers and shove them into her backpack as Dorothea smiled at her. Pushing her bangs from her face with a smile, Kona said, “Hey, Mrs Bentley’s Mom.”

“Kona,” Dorothea began, examining the shades of pink and teal that flooded the energy surrounding the girl, “I didn’t know you were coming over. We’re just about to eat; would you care to join us?”

“I can’t, actually,” Kona said with a sigh as she grabbed a cookie from the counter. “Dad’s making a traditional hawaiian dinner for Mom tonight, but I wanted to come over to talk with Ben, Royce, and Vivi.”

“They’re out back at the moment, but they should be in soon,” Dorothea said. “Is it something for school?”

“No, just friendship stuff,” Kona shrugged before taking a bite of her cookie. “Ben and I argued a bit this morning, but I talked it over with Zack and Gus after school and figured we could work things out tonight as a group.”

Nodding in understanding, Dorothea gestured to the dining table and said, “In the meantime, would you like to talk with me about it? I might offer an unbiased opinion.”

“I don’t know if I’m really supposed to say anything,” Kona began as she tugged one of the chairs out from the table, “but I assume that, if what he was saying is real, then you’d know about it too.”

“Most likely,” Dorothea agreed with a hum as she sat in Miles’ usual spot at the table. Sending the girl a comforting smile, she gestured with her hand and said, “The floor is yours.”

Sucking in a deep breath, Kona glanced around for any trace of Bentley before allowing herself to ramble, something she had always found relatively easy in the woman’s presence. She started her retelling of the morning - how her cat had woken her up by smothering her, her younger sister had refused to put clothes on before daycare, and her first attempt at waffles had made a disaster of the kitchen counters - then, she brought the story into the beginning of her school day. Quickly, she got into Bentley’s story and how he had pulled her aside like it was some big secret before telling her about all that had happened on Halloween. 

Nodding along as though she hadn’t already surmised what happened that fateful day, Dorothea listened as Kona told her side of the conversation before asking a single question, “And you don’t believe him?”

Kona heaved a sigh, “It’s not like I don’t want to believe him - I do - it’s just really hard to. He sounded nervous, but that also made it sound like he was lying through his teeth.”

“I understand,” Dorothea nodded. “But, if you were in his shoes and you had to tell him that you possessed magic in some way, wouldn’t you be nervous as well?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Kona breathed. “I just didn’t think about it at the time.”

“Again, that’s understandable,” Dorothea said with a smile as she watched the array of colors around the girl swirl and shift with every thought that ran through her head. “So, what did Zack and August have to offer?”

“They sort of pointed out that Bentley’s a terrible liar and that I should maybe try sitting down and talking with him more to get the whole story,” Kona admitted. With a faintly nervous chuckle, she said, “So, here I am, ready to try a bit harder.”

“And you want Royce and Vivien there to verify everything?” Dorothea surmised. 

Kona nodded, but before she could say anything, the front door opened, and like a herd of elephants, Bentley, Royce, and Vivien hurried into the house. As he led the way, Bentley called out, “Mama, we finished the salt circle. What do we do now?” 

Upon finding Kona sitting across from his mother, Bentley’s voice faded into silence. While Bentley scrambled to find something to say and Royce’s eyes widened, Vivien offered a hesitant smile as she said, “Kona, what are you doing here?”

“We need to talk,” the blonde said as she pushed herself out of her seat. “Bentley told me about this whole witch business this morning and I want to have an actual conversation about it.”

“We can’t right now,” Royce stated apologetically as he checked the time on his phone. Serena would be there any minute; they didn’t have time for this!

“Why not?” Kona wondered, crossing her arms over her chest. Nodding toward Mrs Murphy, she said, “She let me talk with her. Why can’t we talk now?”

Before anyone could think of an answer, Carrie’s voice came from the stairs as she, Miles, and Mick came down from the upper floor, “We finished smudging the house.”

“Yeah,” Miles continued as they entered the kitchen. “What do we do now-” As his eyes landed on Kona, he asked, “What’s she doing here?”

“Looking for answers,” Kona replied. “What are you guys doing?” 

Faintly feeling the effects of the brownie she had eaten earlier, Vivien replied, “Smudging and making salt circles to protect against dark magic.”

Sensing the growing frustration boiling within Kona’s small frame, Dorothea stood from her spot at the table and placed a placating hand on the girl’s shoulder. “I’ll explain in a moment. For now, you all need to keep an eye out for Serena. Go sit in the living room and do whatever you think is necessary before she gets here. I’ll handle this.”

Despite Royce and Vivien allowing Carrie and Mick to guide them into the living room, Bentley swallowed thickly as Miles tried guiding him away, muttering a soft, “I’m sorry, Kone,” as he turned back toward her for a fleeting moment.

Once Bentley was out of sight, Kona turned to Dorothea and asked, “What’s going on?”

“As I said, I’ll explain everything,” Dorothea said softly, gently guiding Kona back to her seat. “But first, I need you to sit. This will be a lot to take in all at once.”

“What do you mean, you told her?” Miles asked.

“I told her about us,” Bentley explained. “We talked about telling her the other day, so I figures it would be fine.”

“Well, there’s no backing out now,” Carrie claimed from her spot near the picture window. “She knows and, in the long haul, I think it’s for the best.”

Pulling his notebook for geography out of his backpack, Royce said, “I actually agree.”

Slapping a hand to her friend’s forehead, Vivien smirked as she asked, “Are you sick or something? I could’ve sworn I heard you say you agree with Carrie.”

“Oh, ha ha,” Royce deadpanned as he pried Vivien’s hand from his face. “I just think that Kona was bound to know eventually.”

“True,” Mick said from her perch on the coffee table.

Vivien hummed in agreement as she took the notebook from Royce and pulled the thin slab of black onyx from her pocket, tucking it inside the notebook before handing it back to him. Opening the notebook to the hidden crystal, Royce asked, “What’s that for?”

“It’s black onyx,” Vivien explained. “It’s supposed to draw out negative energy. I figured it might help Serena if we give it to her in a way that she won’t notice it.”

Closing the notebook again and feeling just how flat the book still felt, Royce grinned, “Sneaky.”

“Just one of the many reasons you love me,” Vivien claimed proudly. Before allowing him to respond, she said, “I figured it’s flat enough that she won’t realize it’s there, and if she does, you can always claim it’s a pencil or something.”

“Smart,” Mick mused with a smile as she watched over the young pair.

“Don’t sound so surprised,” Vivien taunted, shoving the girl’s knee with a smile. “I think those years of spending every afternoon in the shop with you have paid off.”

“I suppose they have,” Mick chuckled.

Moving away from the window, Carrie pointed toward the outside as she exclaimed, “She’s coming up the driveway!”

“Alright,” Miles said, patting Royce on the back as his younger brother stood. Holding the brunet by his shoulders, he asked, “You know what to do?”

With a nod, Royce began counting on his fingers as he listed, “Act normal, talk about the test, offer to let her in, give her the notebook either way, and once she leaves, we decide what to do next.”

“Good,” Miles said, running a hand over Royce’s chocolate curls before pressing a quick kiss to his forehead. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” Royce muttered.

Squeezing his brother’s shoulders, Miles reassured him, “You’ve got this, RJ. Remember, it’s just Serena; she’s your friend.”

“She’s just possessed, that’s all,” Royce huffed as the doorbell rang.

“Be nice,” Miles reminded him, sending a meaningful glance in Mick’s direction despite the girl not being able to hear their hushed conversation. “Your friend is still in there somewhere.”

Nodding more for Miles’ sake than his own, Royce turned toward the door and sucked in a deep breath as he crossed the gap between himself and the heavy, oaken frame. Forcing a small smile onto his face, Royce let out the breath he’d been holding and tugged the door open, allowing the chilled autumn air to brush calmingly across his face as he found Serena leaning against the column at the edge of the porch. “Hey, Serena.”

“Royce,” the redhead greeted in return, a sort of grin tugging at her lips. “Thanks again for letting me borrow your notes.”

“Yeah, of course, anytime,” Royce replied. Stepping to the side and gesturing to the inside of the house, he asked, “Do you want to come in? It’s kind of cold outside.”

Royce took note of how the girl’s hazel eyes flickered to the old, wooden beams that made up the porch, her gaze minutely trailing the thin line of salt trailing into the coarse artificial grass of the doormat. Although Royce knew the moment only lasted a second or so, time felt slower as Serena’s gaze landed back on him. Forcing his smile to remain plastered across his face, Royce watched as she shook her head with a somewhat distant smile and replied, “I would, but I have babysitting duty.”

If there was one thing Royce remembered about Serena, it was her hatred of babysitting. After years of being made to watch the young kids of her church and being forced to sit at the kid’s table every year, the last thing Serena would ever want was to babysit. He could vaguely recall hearing her have a shouting match with her mother in the school parking lot about having to babysit a kid that wasn’t hers - presumably in reference to her younger half-sibling, Sawyer. If Serena was willingly babysitting Sawyer, something had to be up.

“Oh, well, that’s okay,” Royce brushed off despite his mental notes saying otherwise. Instead, he held the notebook out with a smile and replied, “Maybe next time, then.”

“Yeah, sure,” Serena replied with a quick roll of her eyes that Royce supposed he wasn’t meant to see. However, as Serena latched onto the book and brought it close to her chest, he watched as her eyes flickered rapidly, the color in them gradually shifting from hazel to crimson as they moved from one side to the other faster than Royce could register. Then, all at once, it stopped as Serena’s eyes dissolved back to fear-filled hazel. “Royce?” she questioned breathlessly.

“Serena?” Royce asked slowly in return. “What’s going-”

“How did you make it stop?” Serena interrupted, her eyes wide and glossy with unshed tears of relief. Though Royce had begun to open his mouth in response, Serena quickly shook her head and said, “Actually, nevermind; it’s not important right now.” Reaching out and taking Royce’s arm, she found his eyes and pleaded, “You have to help me. I don’t know what happened, but I’ve been stuck in my own body for weeks now and I can’t get out.”

“What do you remember?” Royce pressed.

“Halloween,” Serena claimed, swiping under her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater. “You guys came to the church to look for something and I left, but then I came back and you all were gone, so I cleaned the mess you left and then I-” Serena choked on a breath, shaking her head as she breathed, “the next thing I know, it’s like I’m trapped in my head and nobody hears me screaming for help.”

Taking in as much information as he could from the rambling girl, Royce nodded, “I know Vivien talked to you.”

“It wasn’t much, but I tried,” Serena agreed. “I can’t hold her off for long.”

“Her?” 

Serena nodded, releasing Royce’s arm to wipe the streaks of tears from her face as she replied, “The other me. She’s strong and powerful and I know it has something to do with magic.”

“Magic? Like ancient magic?” Royce restated. When Serena shrugged with a hum of confirmation, he asked, “How do we help you out of this?”

“I don’t know,” Serena muttered, her voice shaking with every heave of her shoulders. “You, Vivien, and Bentley were always the ones to know everything about magic, not me. That was never my strong suit. All I know is that she can’t touch salt and-”

As Serena’s words died in her throat, Royce took a step back, watching her eyes begin flickering once more. “And what?” Frustratingly, Serena’s mouth moved despite no sound coming from her lips, and Royce gripped the door frame with wide eyes as her eyes clenched shut, and he heard a dull cracking sound come from the book in her hands. Royce sucked in a breath as he realized the crystal tucked inside the notebook had broken.

Like a rubber band, Serena’s eyes snapped open, and a dark, ruby glare settled within her gaze. Despite both of them knowing she couldn’t do anything to hurt him because of the rings of salt around the house, Royce still felt his fight-or-flight instincts screaming at him to do something to preserve himself, and the people he knew were watching from the window. Serena took a half-step back, the blood-red hue of her eyes diminishing gradually the further she got from the doorway. Tilting her head to the side with an almost demonic smile, Serena let out a dark cackle of laughter before speaking, “Just because you and your little friends defeated me once does not mean I will let it happen again.”

“Says you,” Royce hissed.

“Precisely,” Serena spoke. Stepping down from the porch, Serena’s smile turned eerie as she waved a hand toward the window, sparks of fire flitting from her fingertips. Turning back to Royce, she said, “Watch yourselves, children. Your magic may be cosmic, but mine is ancient. I will take it from you eventually.”

Not wishing to anger the woman further, Royce chose to keep his mouth shut, watching as Serena’s figure turned and stalked off toward the end of the driveway. As she neared the edge, she dug into the notebook, pulled out the broken shards of the onyx slab, and held them up for them to see before holding her fist over the wheeled trash can Bentley hadn’t yet brought back into the garage and crushing the shards in her fist. Dumping the shattered remnants of the crystal into the empty trash can, Serena gave a final, dramatic bow before releasing a cackled laugh, slipping into the driver's seat of her violet-wrapped Audi, and pulling away from the house with a squeal of her tires and a deep growl from the engine.

[johnnyutah]

sending SAWSKS (SAW ASKS . REALLY BAD MASHUP HERE) please tell me more about your amanda/gabriela . whether about domestic routines or more about their dynamic I NEED IT!!!

sawsks.. that’s that gay bitch from naruto

i think domestic routines (in an au. sorry babygirls) would be so cute to consider for these two 😭😭 on a not so cute note i’ve thought before about amanda helping gabriela through recovery which is something that can be so personal to me LOL like i’ve personally always thought that amanda quit cold turkey after her first test, whereas gabriela might have fallen off a bit. but also her dealer is very much dead so that would help id imagine. all this to say i love the idea of them doing STUPIDLY sweet sober things together, the way you kinda have to force yourself into it when you’re recovering, but then discovering that they both enjoy all the corny stuff quite a bit. like imagine the potential here. what if i was your Jigsaw-Assigned Sponsor and you hated my guts a lot but also saw yourself in me (😳 and hopefully saw yourself in my guts later 🤞) and so you put up with my visits and we actually get along like a house on fire and we go sit by the dog park and i don’t realize we’ve been sitting for hours until an evening breeze starts to pick up . and we were both girls

i love shoehorning in references to my own work lol but i do think gabriela being a dog person is SO cute and real and good.. and that in this domestic AU, she and amanda should get the biggest dog possible just to piss off hoffman lmfaoooo. it would definitely be one of those situations where amanda talked shit about the dog before meeting it (“hope you don’t expect me to come home on my break and take that thing on walks”, yadda yadda) and then immediately after meeting it she would be like “well sorry gabriela but you’ve been replaced. this is my new favorite”

ALSOOOO not to make this about amanda’s three weed smoking (figurative) gfs but i do feel like out of every amanda ship, amanda/gabriela is definitely the most outwardly and notably Affectionate. obviously they would have to reconcile and whatever the fuck first but in this nebulous au where gabriela has been saved And recruited into her own evil apprenticeship, i love the idea that she would be cuddly with amanda :’) it’s what they both deserve

[krissielee]

Red, White, and Royal Advent!

Merry Christmas and Happy Hanukkah, folks!

So this month, I did a little something for myself. A Red, White & Royal Blue themed advent calendar! My year sucked. Like, a lot. And there's no guarantee it'll stop sucking anytime soon. So this was a way to get a little serotonin every day.

I’ve posted it over on FB, but a few people over here might be interested, too, @mylucayathoughts, for one--love you, fam!

I got gifts enough for 25 days, mostly from Amazon with a few outliers 'cause I'm stupid poor, and randomly tagged them with names of characters, then used a spinner to pick what I got to open each day. So yeah, I bought them all, but the order was all randomized. Me and @machtaholic and @omgbarbiegurl had the big idea to make fandom advents to sell, but this year was just a nightmare for me, and we couldn’t get it going.

And this was … not cheap. Ha. I don’t know if anyone would spend this much on one. Bad Financial Decisions, what? 😅

Whatever. I enjoyed my calendar.

… wanna see what all I got? Of course you do!

Buckle up, fam. This is a long one. Too long for one post!

Anyway, here's part 1.

Part 2 here

Part 3 here

Day 1, Amy gave me a few books that Henry had recommended to her:

Day 2, Pez thought I deserved to smell nice. Alex Bearmont-Diaz certainly appreciates smelling nice. :D

Day 3, Spencer got me something even June can eat!

Day 4, Bea gave me a punny gift. See, I already have a Cornbread plushie, so I don’t need any more turkeys hanging around, but cornbread the food? Yeah, we can work with that. And Dolly, of course. ❤

Day 5 was Mr, Wobbles’ time to shine—literally—with a quartz crystal:

Day 6 was Ellen’s chance to make me smile. Almost a year to the day after I lost my first pup, she gave me a little David!

I really miss my boys—bonus image of my two little nerds because everyone needs to see the sweet little fuzzies I lost. Pepper (the little black one) was last December. Totally blind and he had no teeth. Lucas (the terrier that looks like an old German Shepherd puppy) was completely deaf. They were 15, and I want them back desperately. Everybody tell me my boys were the goodest.

Day 7, Nora gave me one of Henry’s favorite snacks. Now, I’m American, right? Jaffa Cakes aren’t a “thing” here—which is a travesty; I love chocolate and orange and vanilla. But Target got us the hook up with the Marks and Spencer Jaffa Cakes!

Side note: I learned this year that they’re called Jaffa Cakes because of the type of orange in them! So that’s kinda cool. I didn’t even know that was a type of orange lol—I just eat what the store has and I don’t know if they ever have names.

Day 8 was when Leo gave me a little insight into young Alex’s interests:

Aaaaaand ... that's all the pictures I'm allowed to put in one post, lol. Part 2 starts with Day 9!

[literatureloverx]

The Fairest One of All, our dear Snow White,

I am surprised that you are Turkish. Actually, not that surprised because there are a lot of Turks living in Germany. And I should have known from the way you talk about your ENTP brother. I'm curious, do you speak Turkish, have you ever been to Turkey? Can you elaborate a bit if you feel comfortable talking about it?

Also, as a Turkish person, I would like to add to the things Toaster-san said:

The name Azra has various meanings. The most well-known of them is described as a very valuable type of pearl. This pearl is a pristine pearl that has not been pierced and has not been processed in any way. The name Azra is also used as another name for the city of Medina. It also means untrodden sand, a virgin girl (like Toaster-san said). Some sources even use the name "Azra" for the Virgin Mary.

The Turkish name for Azaleas is Açelya, not Azra. But I understand why it reminds you of your own name. Personally, it is one of my favorite names. I've known plenty of people whose name is Azra. They were always very soft, a bit shy like me, considerate and kind. I think it suits you well too.

I imagine the biggest clue you have ever given about your name was when I asked you what jewelry would suit you, and you said you like pearls and you mentioned Akoya pearls...

I would also like to ask you. Would you prefer to be called Azra from now on or would you prefer we continue to refer to you as Snow White?

Sincerely yours,

-🛵🌻

Yes, of course, I can elaborate, my dear. ♥️

I lived in Turkey until I was 8, where I went to school and naturally learned to read and write. Turkish was the first language I learned to read and write in, and I speak it fluently—I’m simply a native speaker.

However, one thing that can make my interactions with Turks from Turkey a little awkward is that I’m not always familiar with the slang they use. It can make me sound less approachable, unfortunately. I also have a strong aversion to any sort of “westernisation” of languages, so it feels strange to me when words are distorted in odd ways. Because of my more raw use of Turkish, I sometimes come across as more serious than I intend to, though that’s never my aim.

As you know, I’m a literature enthusiast. Before I left Turkey, I developed a fascination with Ottoman history (I was around 7) and read many books about it. Lately, I’ve also grown to deeply appreciate Turkish literature, particularly Turkish poetry, which is simply beautiful.

The flower azalea reminds me of my name because of the unique combination of A and Z, but beyond that, there’s no deeper connection.

I’ll be honest, I’m a little flabbergasted by how many details you’ve gathered about me and the way you’ve made all these connections. I never consciously associated pearls with my name, but now that you mention it, I might have done so subconsciously.

Thank you so much for being so considerate, my dear. ♥️ I chose to reveal my name because people were curious, but I’d actually prefer to keep my alias. Being called by my real name here on Tumblr feels a bit strange, so I’d still like to be addressed as Snow White. (It’s still “mother” for you, though.)

(Your mention of the Virgin Mary reminds me once again of Fyodor. I do seem to carry a certain religious theme within me, don’t I? We must be such a perfect match for each other hahaha.)

[babbling-idiot]

Are your requests still open? If so, could you maybe write something about Herbert West having a very introverted bookworm/writer s/o?

To be honest he loves that you read a lot and write

He does the same, except he also steals bodies and kills those reanimated people in his spare time

Which doesn't bother you much

Often times actually since you have been together for some time, he has on occasion asked you if you could help record some things

Especially if he's trying to make a new concoction, sometimes he gets in the mix to deep and can't remember what ingredients which are so having you to help him is a huge relief

Though you are a bit quiet, your actions speak much louder than you could

And he loves you for everything you do for him

And usually, after you've helped him, you will ask him to assist you as well

In your writings, depending on what you're writing, you will have him read it and get his opinion on it

Most of the time is very positive, and he'll tell you it's amazing, but very rarely, he will tell you that you need to rephrase or redo something

Most of the time he can't help but feel jealous at your writing skills

Besides the fact that Dan is Herberts friend, you can't help but stick to yourself and to Herbert

You can't help it, honestly

Oftentimes, Dan will ask Herbert to go out for dinner

And sometimes Herbert will agree but often times he might actually change his answer because you won't go

But of course, Dan's personality is very contagious, and you have once or twice gone out to eat with them

There have been many times where Herbert could not find or locate you

This actually causes him to panic, I don't think we've ever seen him really panic, but he panics when he can't find you

You don't leave the house to go out with a friend or anything, and oftentimes, he can't find you in your room or on the couch reading and writing

So of course, he asks Dan and what's the first thing he says, Library

So, Herbert hauls ass to the library, and sure enough, there you are, nose deep in a book, and when he walks over, all he hears is:

"Oh Herbert! Look at this." The book you're holding is just something random you picked up, and sure enough, it's a book about animals. Random facts about different animals.

"Did you know that turkeys can reproduce without having sex? That's neat, huh?" He sighs out and rubs his forehead. "I did not know that. Are you going to bring that book home?" Oh no, I've already read the whole book. I'm just flipping through random stuff now. "He nods his head and proceeds to tell you that it is officially time to go home

Of course, you don't want to, but you do anyways because you know that Herbert was just worried about you the whole time

(I hope you like this. I'm sorry it took me longer than usual. I am having trouble with motivation, but I am trying to go strong, so don't lose faith in me, yall. Writing is my favorite thing to do, so hopefully, I can rekindle the fire.)

[basilone]

Gonna do "security" and "risk" forrrr...your newest OC, whoever that might be!

Ahh, this actually made me pause for a few minutes in contemplation of which OC of mine is the newest. 😂 I had an unnamed-but-developed one in my head for a long time who finally recently got his name, but I also have a named one who's still very much in development. And for the sake of this lovely prompt, we're going with the latter! 💚 Let me introduce you to a post-war take on Gene Roe's life wife...

a few of my favorite things

He is already out like a light by the time she comes to bed. His work boots kicked off somewhere between front door and the little table on which they keep the house keys and incoming bills. His belt and shirt both hanging off the lone inherited chair in the hallway, partially obscuring the chintz that always makes her feel like an imposter in their own home.

They ain’t chintz people – she’s told Gene this a hundred times – but she ain’t going to be able to get rid of it until Gene’s Auntie Mamie dies. Never mind the fact that Auntie Mamie had only come to the house once, under what she’d claimed was great duress from Cousine Rachelle. Auntie Mamie still asks about the chintz chair at Thanksgiving every year, so in the hallway it remains.

Claudia thinks she’ll burn the thing someday. Watch it go up in flames while sitting out on the porch, sunglasses on to shield against the glare, sipping from an ice cold glass of sweet tea. Whenever Gene’s family gets like that – disapproving and expectant all at once – she takes another stab at the turkey and peas on her plate and keeps a burning chintz chair locked firmly in her mind’s eye.

Ain’t a thing a man can do to help where he’s from, though. She’s not about to hold that against him – ain’t Gene’s fault he came home from war and got her for a next-door neighbor, either, now is it? Though it’s one of the darndest things that it’s the French side of his family that keeps kicking up a fuss when she’s French through her daddy, too. She’s sure got that big Saint-Cyr name but not a penny to it. Often the name alone still opens people up, all bright and welcoming, but when they see her – too tan to be white, too many dark curls atop her head and dark eyes beneath her fringe – it’s like the door shuts just as hard in her face again.

He took a risk, marrying her. Loving her. He acts like it don’t mean a thing – like loving her is just something he does, just like he fixes things around the house and like she never wants for fresh flowers in spring. But she’s realized a long time ago that they don’t make another man like Gene Roe. The thought hit her while he was fixing her sink, of all the moments, and he’d laughed at something silly she said without thinking. And then it’d just kept on hitting her, including that one time his temper had flared and he’d made five grown men feel real sorry about some of the smartass comments they’d been making.

Saying oui to Gene has been the easiest decision of her life.

She makes sure to put her house slippers just beside the bedside table Gene’d finally made for her two nights ago. Takes her earrings out as she sinks down onto the mattress. Gene’s yet to stir, but if Claudia’s honest she doesn’t expect him to. He’ll only rise later on in the night, when the moon’s all high and silver, stumbling around in the kitchen sometime around three or four. He’s done that since she’s known him, possibly longer still. There ain’t been a night Gene’s slept clean on through – stirring at the oddest noises in winter, wide awake with every thunderclap in summer – and there’s not a thing she can do about that.

Claudia leans over him. Switches the light off. Plants a kiss on his brow, then on his cheek. She lies as close to him as possible without spooking him into a fright, tips of her toes touching his ankle, hand brushing his upper arm. If she’s lucky, and Claudia knows she’s born lucky, he’ll come back to bed after his midnight stroll and pull her into his arms.

The thought’s enough to still give her butterflies after all this time.

[pretty-idol-hell]

I'm having a weird trouble and I found other people that have it too with idol land , the game just loads a white screen and nothing else it's just stays on that screen instead of the menu appearing it worked before but it doesn't now? Do you maybe know why this might happen? And also what's your favorite scr coord?

OoooooK. Okay this is gonna get long.

Can I answer the SCR question first, if you don't mind?

My favorite is OF COURSE...

Shion's original SCR! Baby Monster is my favorite brand and it has always matched my character perfectly.

But, barring that, my favorite would actually be...

The Triangle SCR! The colors are super cute and I just LOVE those big tails! This one has not been released in Idol Land and I wonder if it ever will be...

Third place is a tie...

Between Gaaruru's original SCR and her team SCR. I really like the wings on her team SCR, but it's the original that has the monster tail in the back right? Ahhh... The original was released on Idol Land a while back and it's one of the coords I regret not buying.

Honorable mention goes to:

Hibiki's! Hibiki was one of the last characters to get their SCR in season 3 so it was highly anticipated for me, especially since Hibiki was my favorite character at the time, and it did not disappoint. I'm glad they went with white (instead of blue like their regular CR or whatever). So regal! Again, another coord not released in Idol Land and I wonder if it ever will be... (even though they released a color variation for some reason.....)

Now, there are many Idol Time coords I would also add to this list... but they are technically Yume Rare and not SCR so I can keep it short! (Phew!)

Okay, so, about your trouble...

The white screen problem happens to me all the time. Maybe even once a week or so? When it does, all I do is force the app to close, reload, and then it works fine. By force the app to close, I mean like this:

If you are on Android you press the left button (sideways hamburger button?) with three lines to end up here, then either close Idol Land individually or just close all apps. I don't know what it would look like on iOS, unfortunately.

If that doesn't work for you, if it's OK with you, would you mind telling me what region you are playing from?

A while back we had a discussion on this blog about this problem, and the only people who could not clear the white screen were from South Korea and I think Turkey? Everyone else (USA, Canada, UK, Italy, Philippines...) had no problems. So there is a possibility there are some regions which have trouble accessing Idol Land. But if not, I don't know.

As a last resort (if you have already tried the force close a few times, restarted your phone, etc), you might try transferring your account (either to another device or after reinstalling), if you have a username and password saved from within the last 30 days.

(Another reminder to everyone, make another username and password! If you did around the time they updated it to 30 days, it's expired by now!)

Hope I could help you!