#my child requested pineapple upside-down cake for his birthday

[breadlifecrisis]

#mine #ok to rb #food #my child requested pineapple upside-down cake for his birthday #ask and ye shall receive 🙌

[bismillahnah-blog]

North

Summary: You meet your soulmate at Augusth 19th, 1967.

Author's Note: Thanks to @msjessicaraines for the ask! It is based on North by Sleeping At Last. It has almost 3k of words and i'm very proud! Hope you guys like.

we will call this place our home

the dirt in which our roots may grow.

though the storms will push and pull

we will call this place our home.

August 19th, 1967

You never thought you would meet your soulmate in such a young age. It was his sixteen birthday, and you were invited — even if you don't even know him, he was such a shy boy-. Your best friend was angry at you, saying you were leaving her for some weird boy, but again, you don't know why you were invited if you never talked to him. What was his name again? You wanted to remember before his birthday, so it wouldn't be awkward. God, what was his name? “(Y/N), come down. We are all ready to go to the party. Hurry!” You heard your father screaming downstairs, it was already time

“Has anyone seen my other shoe? I can't find anywhere!” You screamed back, running downstairs to find your dad waiting at the door, and your mother finishing the dessert she would take to put on the table with the other dishes. She was great friend of the boy's mother, and his mother asked for help, and your mom did a delicious pineapple upside down cake, but even if your mother was one of the best friends of his mother, you still couldn't remember his name. You tried to get a piece of this cake earlier, and didn't end well, so you have learned to go really far from that cake until it was time to eat with everyone else.

“It's the blue with white one?” Your father asked, fixing his fedora hat.

“The one that matches my clothes” You were wearing a blue plaid suit that your mother would probably kill you if ever got dirty.

“I think it was the one Aidan was eating” Your mother said, walking carefully with the cake in her hands. Aidan was your little dog, it was still just a puppy, so you couldn't blame him, though you wanted to scream. It was one of your favorite shoes!

“Mom, what do I do now? I can't go whit only one shoe and-”

“Change it, then”

“But it is the only one that match with this kind of clothes" You whined, sitting in the couch and crossing your arms stubbornly

“I'm not going if isn't with this shoe.”

“Little girl, you are going to the Deacon party, and I don't care if your shoes aren't the one you use for literally anything” Your mother answered, and you know that if you said anything back, that cake would fly to you in any moment.

“Fine” You said, getting up and running back to your room. Not without whispering some "I prefer staying at home, anyway”. You quickly open your room door and got your new white shoe, putting in your feet. Making your way back downstairs, you saw your mother eyes getting bigger and bigger, and your dad trying to hide a smile behind her.

“Why are you like this?” Your mom complained, and you feel a smiling wanting to creep out, but if you did let it go, it would be a big problem.

“I'm ready to go!”

There's no need to say that you and your mom arrived the party teasing each other. She wouldn't stop saying your shoes would be the latest fashion of this year, and you teased her saying her cake would be in every bakery after this year.

“Hello, Lilian. You are beautiful in this dress!” Your mom complimented the hostess. She was with a yellow dress and a white coat that goes till her knees, but the most beautiful thing was her smile. She was very happy for her son turning sixteen.

“Thank you. But I think the most beautiful thing in this party is (Y/N). It was an exquisite choice to wear shoes with different colors, but at least they match your dress, honey” She answered, while taking the cake from your mom's hands. She went to the kitchen, and so did your mom, your dad goes to talk to some mans, leaving you there by yourself.

“H-hello, are you (Y/N)?” You heard a voice from behind calling you. You turn around and see the shy boy, the weird boy, the bass boy. Everything they called him goes through your mind. And then you remember.

“Your name is John, right?”

we'll tell our stories on these walls.

every year, measure how tall.

and just like a work of art we'll tell our stories on these walls.

“So, what are the story behind those shoes?” John asked you. You and him were talking for almost an hour now. He seemed so shy, but when you started talking to him, something changed; he had a lot of interesting topics to discus, and you were happy to talk to him. You two were in the back of his garden, trying to get away from every adult or teenager that comes to say Happy Birthday for him.

“Well, my mom was in a rush to come to your house, and my other blue shoe was being eaten by my dog, so the only left option was changing my shoes. But it was simple. I don't like simple things” You answered, trying not to look into his eyes. He had eyes as open and honest as any child, a warmth and safety. At that moment, you found your home, your place to find company when the cold winds blew.

“Isn't weird?” John asked, picking up a little dandelion from the grass. “Feels like I know you for ages”

“It is, indeed. But why did you invite me?” You said, coming closer to him. You pretend not to see his pink cheeks.

��B-because I have seen you going around the neighborhood, and I talked to my mom, and she knows your mom and-” He stopped. You gently took the dandelion from his hand and put in your hair, placing behind your ear.

“Do you think the halls of your house can hear our secrets?” let the years we're here be kind, be kind. let our hearts, like doors, open wide, open wide. settle our bones like wood over time, over time. give us bread, give us salt, give us wine.

“John, sweetie, it's time for the cake.” John's mom called, looking at both of you with suspicious eyes. He got up first, and reached his hand for yours, to help you get up. You did this. And the contact that happened quickly was enough to make you melt into him like ice-cream on a warm porcelain bowl, like you belonged next to him, like he belonged next to you. You walked behind him, going inside the house to see everybody around a table, waiting for the birthday boy.

“It's time to cut the cake” Someone said

“Don't forget your wish, boy” You heard your father's voice saying.

“I think I'm a little old for this, Mr.” John answered with a smile, looking for who said this. John walked closer to the table and you walked to your family. Your mom was to distracted looking at the boy to even start asking questions, so do your dad. You just looked to John. And you wished you were his wish. You could feel your heart beat, every single pound in your chest. Not through your ears, that was occupied by the voices that were singing happy birthday; drowning it out in the ears. You should sing, but you couldn't. This great pounding, this great pressure; every beat. You couldn't hear it, but you could feel it. You could feel the doors of your heart open widely for this boy.

“Now, it's time for the adults to taste the wine” John dad said, and everyone laughed. Everyone but you. The only sound you could hear and feel was your heartbeat.

a little broken, a little new.

we are the impact and the glue.

capable more than we know to call this fixer upper home.

“Happy birthday, Deacon boy” You whispered in John's ears when you found him, talking to a group of people that were giving him congratulations for his birthday. He turned back quickly, locking his eyes in yours, moving his lips so only you could read it

“Follow me”. You distanced yourself, waiting for him to excuse himself so you both could leave it without someone noticing. When he finally did, you saw him going upstairs. To his room. And you followed. Looking back to see if anyone noticed, you are pleased to see that no one noticed a thing

“So, why your room?” You asked, entering his room. You could see some gray tones in his walls, a bass, his organized shelf and his bass. He was sitting in his bed, and tapped slightly at his side, a silent ask to you come closer, and you did it. John, instead of moving away, only moved closer to you. You were patiently waiting for his answer, but he started talking. He talked about the nothing and about everything. He would ‘accidentally’ brush up against you, leaning closer, so you could hear him better — though you could swear the noise downstairs weren't so loud in his room -.

“The flower stills in your hair” He said, and he made his most advanced movement; he leaned closer, so he could smell the scent of your hair, the scent of your neck, the scent of your love. You would be lying if you said you didn't feel your skin heat up against his touch, against his lips brushing slightly against your hand. You squeezed your legs, in pure instinct.

“You are very beautiful, (Y/N). Just like a work of art. I think I love you” John said, you turned your head to the side to avert his gaze, but the sudden rosiness of your cheeks gave you away. You felt the same. You didn't remember when, but now you're laid down in his bed, with John giving kisses along your neck, your legs, your face, but avoiding your lips.

“Beautiful, a work of art, a beautiful work of art” He say while finally meeting your gaze, asking a silent request. You just nodded. John kissed you and the world fell away. It was slow and soft, comforting in ways that words would never be. His hand rested below your ear, his thumb caressing your cheek as their breaths mingled. You ran your fingers down his spine, pulling him closer until there was no space left between.

“I love you” You managed to say between kisses that were becoming more and more passionate.

“I really hope those walls can't hear our secrets” John said, and you giggled, remembering what you said what once seemed now like thousand of years before.

with each year, our color fades.

slowly, our paint chips away.

but we will find the strength and the nerve it takes to repaint and repaint and repaint every day.

August 19th, 1977

“Happy birthday, my Deacon boy” You said, laying down on John chest. It has been ten years. Ten lovely years. You started to plant kiss in every part of his face, remembering how ten years ago it was when you shared your first kiss with him.

John started waking up, mumbling something under his breath that you could only imagine was a satisfied groan.

“God, I want to wake up like this every day, love” He was now fully waked up, only enjoying the kisses that were now following down his neck.

“You are such a work of art. One that the paint never chips away” John complimented you, making you stop your kisses, and you looked up to his eyes, meeting his gaze. It was full of love.

“And if ever did, I'm sure you will paint me again. I love you so much." You managed to say, trying not to starting stutter over your own words.

“I will always make sure to repaint my work of art when is needed” You could only smile in return

“Now, going back to where we stopped” And now you're in your back, giggling with every movement John made into you.

let the years we're here be kind, be kind.

let our hearts, like doors, open wide, open wide.

settle our bones like wood over time, over time.

give us bread, give us salt, give us wine.

let the years we're here be kind, be kind.

let our hearts, like doors, open wide, open wide.

settle our bones like wood over time, over time.

give us bread, give us salt, give us wine. give us bread,

give us salt, give us wine.

smaller than dust on this map lies the greatest thing we have: the dirt in which our roots may grow and the right to call it home.

August 19th, 1997

There were friends of your younger kids running everywhere, friends of both you and John, parents of the kids. The house was full You felt a hug from behind, and you didn't need to look to know who it was. “This is the right place to call it home, don't you think, love?” John said, resting his head in the crook of your neck

“I'm happy to call this our home.”

TAGLIST: @someone-get-a-medic @msjessicaraines

#john deacon #queen #queen band #joe mazzello #joseph mazzello #john deaky #bohemian rhapsody #john deacon x you #john deacon x reader #queen fanfic #fanfic #fluff #mentions of smut #song #song fic

[dracimalfoy1988292]

(ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 14: ᴘʀᴀɴᴋs, ʟᴀᴜɢʜs...)

28

Valentine spread a generous wad of honey-butter on her crisped toast, resting the slice back to her plate when she was finished, among the squares of fruits she'd picked.

"You have the dungbombs, then?" Valentine questioned, eating a kiwi chunk and making eye contact with a giddy Sirius.

"'Course I do. I wouldn't forget, I'm not that irresponsible," Sirius answers, earning a look from everyone at the table.4

"Right, sure," Valentine laughed.

"Anyways, are you lot excited for the holidays?" Macey asks from besides her, earning a batch of mixed reactions from the boys. While James, Peter, and Remus seemed excited to go home, Sirius only let out a long aggravated groan in response.

"Excited to go home to my wretched family? No way," Sirius lamented, chewing on bacon with a frown. Valentine shot him a sympathetic look, feeling bad for his misfortune.

"Yes, well, not to rain on your parade, but I'm sure excited. My mom makes the best pineapple upside down cake," Remus boasted proudly, a smile on his lips in remembrance to the sweet treat.4

"Lucky. Neither of my parents are gifted in the kitchen unless it's baking, so we usually order take out and eat it around the fire," Valentine explained, earning confused glances from the others.4

"Take out?" Peter finally asked, eyebrows raised.

"It's when you pick up food from a restaurant and take it somewhere else to eat," Valentine informed them, earning understanding nods.

"At least you get fed," Sirius said glumly, earning a snort from James.

"They still feed you, Padfoot."

"I know. But I bet you wouldn't be surprised if they didn't," Sirius claimed, brushing his hair from his eyes with a charming smirk.3

Valentine turned, watching as many students left the Great Hall, on their way towards their lessons.

"Time to split. We all know the game plan, right?" Valentine asked as she rose to her feet, stuffing the whole slice of bread into her mouth.

"And you say we don't have manners," James says beneath his breath, causing Valentine to wack him in the back of his head.

"Bloody hell, woman! Watch the hair!" James exclaimed, swatting her arm away from his vicinity.1

Valentine mocked him, making an odd face which James gladly returned before she pulled Macey along with her, exiting the Great Hall and heading towards the greenhouse. While Valentine already felt guilty for her plan and having to do it to Professor Sprout, she was thrilled nonetheless.

Valentine and Macey both pulled their robes tightly around their body, the chilled winter air swarming, flakes of fresh snow coating the plants and a thin layer of ice among the Black lake.

Once they entered the greenhouse, however, the atmosphere was friendly and the air was warmer, brightly colored plants in various benches at tables, some making noises and others remaining still. Macey and Valentine took their usual desk, chatting excitedly as they watched the room, watching a more and more students arrived.

"When are they doing it?" Macey asked quietly.

"Dunno. Just be ready to cover your nose," Valentine answered, noticing the Marauders enter the room, all wearing sneaky faces. Sirius caught her eye and subtly flashed her thumbs up, which Valentine tried to ignore as she was attempting to remain unsuspicious.

"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. It's wonderful to see your cheery faces, and I do hope you brought along your earmuffs and gloves, we'll be needing them," Professor Sprout began, her dark hair curled with a small green hat sat on her head. Wire glasses were perched on her nose, cheeks bright pink as well as her lips.

And as planned, the mayhem didn't begin until twenty minutes into class. Valentine and Macey were in the middle of nurturing a Devil's snare when it happened.

One minute everyone was working diligently on completing their tasks to receive a good mark, and the next there was a putrid odor filling the once lively room, causing students to yell out and cough violently, all heading towards the exit.

"Remain- oh, no! Everyone please remain-," Professor Sprout paused, coughing loudly and wincing at the smell of rotten eggs. "Calm!"1

While Valentine and Macey were fortunate enough to have plugged their nose, others clearly weren't. Valentine could distinguish the laughter of the boys who were also working their way out the classroom, the two Hufflepuff's pushing through the crowd to meet them.

"Brilliant!" Macey chastised. "Disgusting, but brilliant!"2

Valentine couldn't help but laugh, misstepping and ramming into the boys back, sending them all lurching forward, more laughter spilling out.

And right at time, the loud fizzing and popping of fireworks startled the students gathered outside, stepping back as bursts of burgundy and yellow light exploded mid-air, colors filling the blue sky and the sound filling the atmosphere.

And in the sky was a huge, big 'M', all for the Marauders. The boys had decided on doing that specific letter because eventually everyone would figure out who was behind the prank. In fact, although Valentine argued, they all insisted on taking the blame. They said, "you did all the work, we'll do the detention." It didn't seem fair to Valentine, but they claimed they wouldn't change their mind.12

Slowly, people started to laugh and clap, pointing at the display while letting out 'woah', every once in a while. And it was all fun until Professor McGonagall marched out, grabbing James and Sirius.

"You four, with me now!" She barked sternly, earning uneasy looks from Peter and Remus but cocky grins from Sirius and James.

"I may be old," Professor McGonagall started. "But I'm not daft. You four always turn up at the site of trouble."1

James, who had prepared to say something in rebuttal, only shrugged. "That is true."

And as Professor McGonagall dragged them off, at the last minute James spun around and high fived Valentine, leaving her palm almost as red as the fireworks inhabiting the sky.

1

•••

Hagrid's large hand enclosed around Valentine's, warming it as he pulled her from the small rowboat, hoisting her back onto land. Valentine's stomach settled from the queasiness it often experienced when on a rocking boat, and she brushed the dust from her robes and joined Macey's side.

"Have a good holiday, Hagrid!" Valentine cheerily called, earning a crooked grin from the large man.

"You too, Val'tine," Hagrid hooted before moving on to help the others from their boat.

Macey led Valentine towards the Hogwarts Express, where the great train blew large puffs of smoke, intermixing with the clouds of cotton and a sky the color of blue candy. The Scotland countryside was bright green, small patches of flowers and weeds adorning the grass.

The two Hufflepuff's entered the train, where news of the previous prank wafted in the air and spread like wildfire. Per usual, Valentine and Macey made their ways down the narrow halls, searching for an empty compartment. Once they'd finally spotted one, they claimed it, setting trunks on the racks and sitting on the benches across from each other. Valentine held Cupid, her white-coated cat, in her lap, petting him gently. She often left him behind to mingle with others at the castle, but this year she'd decided in bringing him home.

"Do you have any plans, then?" Valentine asked, and Macey nodded enthusiastically.

"Yeah! I've got plans with Mason, his birthday's two days after Christmas, as you know," Macey blubbered, and Valentine felt her heart warm at the information.

Macey's younger brother, Mason, was adorable, and so wasn't the siblings bond. While he was only nine, the two got along surprisingly well, considering the age gap. Over the summer months when Valentine would visit, Mason always requested they play wizard games and tell him all about quidditch, and it always made Valentine envious that she was an only child.

Valentine was pulled from her thoughts when three single knocks pounded against the glass door, and Valentine turned to see the Remus, James, and Peter, and then Sirius, who had his face pressed against the glass, his skin bunched up around his eyes and nostrils wide on display, his breath fogging up the glass.6

"This compartment open for four more, ladies?" James asked, peeking his head in.

"Ugh, I guess we don't have much of a choice," Macey jabbed, and the four shuffled in, sitting down with the girls.

Cupid, unexpectedly, jumped from Valentine's lap and waltzed towards Remus, curling up in his lap. Remus was initially taken aback, though he slouched in his chair and smiled softly, scratching the cat between its ears.

"What's his name?" Remus cooed, watching the cat as if it were the most interesting thing, the others looking at him in amusement.

"Cupid," Valentine answered.

"Ironic," Peter commented, playing with his remembrall.

"How bad is the punishment?" Valentine inquired nervously, and Sirius' eyes suddenly became sad.

"It was terrible. For the next two months we have to report to her room at five in the morning to scrub the floors and orangish the cabinets," Sirius somberly finished, and Valentine gasped.

"Really?" She voiced fearfully.

"Psh, no!" Sirius cracked, leaning back with a grin: "Detention for one night once lessons resume after the holiday."

Valentine scoffed annoyedly, ready to rebuke until the trolley witch came by, displaying her appearance as she called out. They all jumped to their feet, fighting through the door to get to the trolley. Cupid, on the other hand, let out a loud mewl and scurried onto the corner of the cushioned bench.

Valentine, after managing to push Sirius to the floor and Peter into the wall, she made her way before the older woman, catching her breath as she fished out galleons from her pocket.4

"Hello, how are you?" Valentine greeted happily, earning a smile from the witch.

"Quite good, and you?"

"I'm great, thanks. Can I please get three cauldron cakes, two caramel cobwebs, a pumpkin pastie, and four licorice wands?"

James' mouth fell agape from besides the girl, surprised by the amount of candies she'd bought. He watched closely as the trolley witched passed off the desired good, which Valentine passed off the money in exchange.4

"Thanks so much!" Valentine piped, turning to head back to the compartment with her hands full.

And once everyone had returned, the booth turned loud with laughter, jokes, and random nothingness, everyone eating so many sweets that their stomached ached.

Valentine herself had managed to scarf down two of the three cauldron cakes, one licorice wand, and a caramel cobweb, deciding to save the rest for her parents, knowing they'd always found the wizarding world and the treats that came with it more than interesting.1

And before they knew it, the passing world outside the windows grew dark, shadows casted among the hills and stars beginning to dance in the sky. And slowly, the train came to a complete stop, the force causing empty candy wrappers piled in Valentine's lap to tumble to the ground.

Quickly picking them up and throwing them into her over-shoulder bag, she lugged her trunks down, thought she clearly underestimated the weight as the bag tumbled down, headed straight for her face. Lucky enough, James noticed, his arms shooting out from behind the girl on either side, stopping it before it could fall completely. Easing it down, he carefully handed it to the blonde, which she gratefully smiled.

"Thanks."

"Yeah, but seriously, what's in the bag, a body?" James teased.9

"Of course not," Valentine exclaimed. "I've just decided on bringing back my books and all. Studying, I guess."

James eyes her skeptically. "Right, you have fun with that."

Valentine rolled her eyes before grabbing signaling for Cupid to follow, which he did, as usual. With Macey by her side and the boys a bit behind, they exited the train, scanning the train station for their family.

Sirius, almost immediately, spotted his mother, who wore all black, living up to their surname.

"Looks like a ball of sunshine," Valentine sarcastically stated, earning a short laugh from Sirius, although if you looked close enough, you could see how nervous he was.7

"That she is," he chided, being quick to hug his friends, even going as far as to hug Valentine. The action had surprised her, but she hugged back nonetheless.

"You guys have a happy Christmas, then. I expect I'll be bored, so be ready for numerous letters to be sent your way," Sirius nodded to them all, blowing a mocking kiss to them before he left. Not long after Peter left as well, biding then goodbye.

"Wow, Mason's grown, hasn't he," Macey observed as she noticed her parents and brother, all of whom waved her over and smiled. Before going to then, she too hugged Valentine tightly, arms warm and tight around each other.

"Be safe, yeah? I'll write you and send my present. Love you!" Macey yelled, walking backwards to her family with her lips curled up into a large grin, sending one last wave at Valentine before turning.

"Bye James, Valentine. Have a really great Christmas!" Remus suddenly broke off, already walking, clearly ready to greet his family.

"You better still send your facts, Remus! Oh, and eat a slice of upside down pineapple cake for me!" Valentine shouted across the station, and although she couldn't hear him, she watched Remus nod and laugh at her request. And then everyone was gone, leaving James and Valentine.2

Valentine awkwardly turned to the boy, noticing how his head turned left and right, searching for his parents while bouncing on the soles of his feet.

"Er- have a good holiday, James."

James found her eyes, watching them closely, seeing the light color of a faint yellow and the deep, coffee brown that laced together and blended so beautifully.

"Right. You too, Valentine. And expect a package on Christmas Day," James said sweetly, pushing his glasses up higher as his fingers fidgeted at his sides.

Valentine smiles, then headed in the direction of the familiar head of blonde hair, which belonged to her mother, and the head of almost pitch black hair, her father.

Losing the walk, she barreled into her parents, sending them stumbling as she dropped her bag and held them tightly.

"I missed you Mum. You too, Dad," Valentine sighed, the familiar smell of roses and oranges on her mother, a perfume scent Valentine loved so much.

"And we missed you, Vallie. Excited to be stuck at home with your boring, maggle parents? Far less exciting than magic, I'm sure," her father joked, ruffling the hair on his daughters head.11

Valentine couldn't help but snicker at her parents, pulling away to glance at them.

"It's muggle, dad. Not maggle."

"Right, well, tomatoe tomato. Do these folks know what a tomato is?"

"Yes, dad. They're wizards, not cavemen," Valentine replied, astonished by her fathers questions. Not wanting to answer anymore, she retrieved a cauldron cake and licorice wand from her bag, holding them out to her mother and father.

Squealing happily, her mother chose the licorice wand, raising it to her mouth and biting a massive chunk off the wand. Her father, who Valentine found she took the most after, unpackaged the cauldron cake and crammed the whole treat into his mouth like a child.

"Ready to go home?" Valentine's mother asked.

The youngest Lotus looked over her shoulder, seeing as all her friends had left besides James, who was happily reunited with his parents, an older couple with loving eyes and graying hair. As soon as James' father caught her eyes, she spun back.9

"Yeah, let's go home."