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florida-kiilos · 1 month

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Taking anti-depressant pills?? Seeing a therapist??? Journaling???? No need babe, my fav writer just dropped another x reader fic.

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florida-kiilos · 2 months

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Tig Trager, Season 4 Episode 1, Out - “Barely an hour, and you’re already in the bowl covered in pussy whip.”

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florida-kiilos · 4 months

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y’all ever fantasize about a fictional character a little too hard to the point you’re convinced you should be admitted to a mental hospital?

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florida-kiilos · 6 months

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Apple Pie

dean winchester x reader

you try all day to bake a pie for dean

wc: 1.3k, complete and utter fluff

Wiping the sweat from your brow, you slid another pie crust into the oven. After shutting the oven door with your elbow, you turned to find Cas in the doorway. “Please, don’t make me try any more. I cannot taste it, Y/N.” you half-laugh and sigh. “I’m sorry. Honestly, if this one doesn’t turn out good, I am just going to toss everything and pretend it never happened.” Castiel looked at you, a confused look plastered on his face.

“Why would you throw it all away?” He asks, making his way towards the counter, his eyes going over the mess of cooking ingredients and cookware all over the place. His eyes make his way to you, your apron covered in flour, hair all tousled and falling out of the bun it was put in hours ago. You had clearly exerted loads of effort.

You begin to run the sink, bringing over some spoons and dishes that were covered in various flavors. “I don’t know, it’s embarrassing I guess. Like, how am I unable to bake a pie?” Cas almost cuts you off, “You’ve baked five pies, I think.” You shake your head, turning to him.

“I’ve tried to bake about five pies. And not one of them was good enough. I’m not asking for your pity, I’m just, saying I guess.” you reply wryly. He shrugs, now assisting you with cleaning the dishes. The two of you cleaned in silence, since he wasn’t sure how to comfort you or even wanted to be comforted.

He eventually excused himself to the war room to continue a case he had been working on, leaving you to stare at the pie, watching it slowly bake in the oven. You had placed a chair in front of the oven, just staring into the void, basking in your embarrassment and failure. Then, you began beating yourself up for being upset over not being able to bake. It was a vicious cycle.

Only to be broken by a warm laugh. “Now, now, now, what do we have here!” Dean exclaimed. He just about floated down the stairs and into the kitchen. Although those first few pies didn’t exactly taste good, they still smelled it. You blinked hard and turned around to see him. His hair is a bit flat, wearing a worn green flannel with a pair of blue jeans. But the largest smile was plastered across his face.

Dean’s arms were outstretched for you to fall into, pulling you into a deep hug. His hand instinctively went to the back of your head to cradle, kissing your forehead as you hummed. He breathed in your hair, to find it speckled with flour and something sticky. But you smelled good.

You smelled like pie.

He licked his lips and pulled you out of the hug, you whining a bit in retort. You look up to him with your doe eyes, his weakness. Dean gave a smug smile before pulling you in for a quick kiss. Your lips tasted of apple with a hint of cinnamon, making his heart soar.

Dean pulled back from the kiss, his hands on your shoulders. He gave them a slight squeeze, trying to come up with something clever to say. “Oh, please, Winchester. I know exactly what you’re thinking.”

He shook his head, laughing a bit and sliding his hands down your arms. The warm taste of apple from your lips still lingered. “You gonna tell me about this?” He nods his head to the rest of the room. The sink was filled with dishes, although cleaned. But the counter was still covered in crusts and apples, and tons of flour.

You felt your cheeks flushed red and your gaze hit the floor and his boots. You shook your head, laughing a bit. “No way.” your voice is light, trying to hide your frustration. The last thing you wanted was for him to walk in the door to this mess, not even knowing if what you were attempting to make was good enough.

Dean’s smile dropped a bit, his finger lifting your chin to meet his gaze again. “Come on, sweetheart. It’s not like you burned the place down.” his joke struck a nerve with you. He was an excellent cook, and all you wanted to do was repay the favor. He takes your hand as you walk over to the counter, covered in the mess.

“Ta da!” You exclaim sarcastically. Dean doesn’t look away from you, knowing you are seconds away from spilling out your guts. “Y/N-” he starts. “I’ve tried all day to bake one pie. One god damn pie. I have gone to the store twice today Dean. Twice! Are you aware we live in a small town? There’s like a couple hundred people so when you go to the store twice and buy the same things, the cashier is going to notice. Even better that it was the same person.

You would think as an adult, I would be able to bake a single apple pie for my boyfriend. But no. I can make rock hard crust,” you pick up and toss one of the burnt crusts on the counter down. “And mediocre filling. I honestly don’t think there’s enough apples in the world for me to be able to get this recipe right.”

As your rant continued, Dean looked at you with nothing but love. He had no idea he could feel this way. He loved you for trying so hard. You didn’t have to bake a pie. Honestly, you still have a pulse and wanting to be within 10 feet of him was enough. As you went on about your day and all your baking attempts, it made him realize how much you loved him.

And the word boyfriend rang through his ears. The two of you never defined anything. Sleeping together for years, living together, you had even convinced him to go on a weekend trip for fun once. But to his face, you had never called him your boyfriend. All those nights spent in each other’s arms, yet afraid to label anything to make the other run away.

But there you stood, what you would call a complete mess but he thinks you are prettiest this way.

Whatever you were saying at this point, something about the oven being your enemy, was in one ear and out the other. Dean pulled you in for a deep kiss, both hands on either side of your face, stopping you mid-sentence.

“I love you.” he said, breaking the kiss. You pulled back just enough to look into his green eyes, that somehow had a little more sparkle to them since you saw him this morning. “I love you, too.” you smiled, rubbing your thumb on his cheek. Staring into each other’s eyes, the words “my girl” slipped Dean’s lips. Heat rose in your chest as you pulled him in again, this time his tongue slipping in your mouth.

Right on time, the oven dings. The pie is done, and so is the moment. You slide out of his grasp and sigh. “Don’t get your hopes too high.” He watched you take the pie out, some apple oozing from the crust. The smell alone sent him over the edge.

“I can’t believe you went through all this trouble for me.” he said quietly, almost as if he didn’t want you to hear. You raise an eyebrow. “Dean, I’ve pretty much died for you, yet this is something you can’t believe.”

It was the mundaneness of it all. The normalcy. He felt there was no room in his life for it. That he didn’t deserve it no matter how badly he longed for it. He shrugged it off, not quite ready to dive into that. But more ready to dive into what laid in front of him.

“This one actually looks edible!” you sigh in relief, inspecting the pie closer. Dean scoots behind you, placing his hands on your hips.

“I’ll tell you what else looks edible.”

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florida-kiilos · 7 months

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you are so interesting i love your mind

one time i ordered a medium tupperware full of banana pudding off facebook marketplace in tallahassee and only ate a quarter of it and got so sick i threw up and then went to this old guy’s house and slept in his bed with him cause our duplex was on the FBI watchlist cause we accidentally let some gang members conspire to molotov cocktail the florida governors mansion on our front porch

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florida-kiilos · 7 months

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RAWWRRRR

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florida-kiilos · 9 months

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florence welch & ethel cain

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florida-kiilos · 9 months

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when women screech and scream in songs. when boys moan and whine in songs. u agree

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florida-kiilos · 10 months

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ok everyone is banned from using the term “southern gothic” until y’all figure out what the hell it means. virgin suicides? michigan. badlands? south dakota. appalachia? APPALACHIA. the american south is 7 states on a good day. even the devil all the time is still ohio. good lord

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florida-kiilos · 11 months

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