#Cas goes clothes shopping

[pocketsizedquasar]

thoughts about jon, gender, n hair

aka i've literally wanted to write a fic centered around this concept for like over two years but. well. anyway. i still might write the fic at some point but lord knows when that'll happen so in the meantime here are my jon jarchivist headcanons centered around hair and gender, ft. my personal flavor of jon: persian, w/ a white grandmother, n amab nonbinary transneutral/transfemme

⁃ jon's hair was always kept short as a kid. short hair was for boys, his grandmother had said, and besides, she didn't have the desire nor energy to learn how to care for his thick persian curls; the shorter they were, the less tangled and unruly, the better.

⁃ jon explored some more fem/gnc presentation in college, some of which included growing out his hair. he attributed it back then more to just the fact that he was exploring his queerness (in a bi and ace sense) in general & that he spent a lot of time around georgie (also transfemme), and didn't really think about the actual gender accompanying it -- he wasn't actively thinking much about his own gender. questioning and coming to terms with his sexuality was already a lot.

⁃ but he liked the way his hair looked and felt long. he liked the quiet rebellion of it. he liked the way georgie ran her fingers through it. he liked how many different ways it could be worn long -- in ponytails and buns and braids and just loose down his back. he doesn't remember much of his mom, but he's seen in pictures her long, dark, curly hair, just like his now, and he likes the reminder.

⁃ he keeps it long after college, though upon getting hired as a researcher at the magnus institute, he has a bit of a crisis over whether or not to cut it, re: standards of white cishetero "professionalism" and decorum and masculinity, all of which he's doing his best to perform. maybe even early on in his research days he cuts it a bit and decides it makes him feel so bad (for some inexplicable reason) that he decides to just leave it long, though tidy and brushed and straightened and pulled high up into a tight bun so it looks neat and out of the way and functionally short anyway.

⁃ similar thing happens when he gets promoted to archivist. i personally like him deciding not to cut it here because i like him being allowed to keep one (1) thing, though i def understand other hc's where he does cut it short for S1 / being the archivist. he's still very much keeping it pulled up in a tight bun and out of the way, and removes anything else remotely feminine about his appearance -- earrings, more fem clothing, nailpolish, etc.

⁃ i read mossy's @coulson-is-an-avenger "shopping for gender in a british wal-mart" fic like 2.5 years ago and i still love it so much and it's still canon to me basically re: he tries a skirt Once to work at the sort of peak sweet point where he's settled in enough to feel comfortable trying to wear a skirt but not yet paranoid enough about Prentiss. sasha talks w him about gender and femininity and stuff, though he's not quite ready to confront it yet.

⁃ then prentiss/season 2 hits and he regresses again hard into self-defense mode; the performative masculinity goes Harder. his hair is still long but it's messy; thick curls and flyaway strands frizzing about his sleep deprived and paranoid face.

⁃ by the time s3 rolls around, everything else in his life has gone to shit, so mostly he's just like "fuck it" re: his presentation in general, including his gender presentation. there's also a sense of just.. "this it the one thing in my life I have control over," so he sort of starts just wearing whatever. even if he's not really acknowledging the actual gender feelings to himself. but his hair and his clothes are One thing he can control about himself, one thing the watcher can't really take away from him. so with s3-s4 it's like. yeah he feels like he's becoming less and less human and yeah he's being kidnapped once a month and yeah the world is going to end but at least he can wear a goddamn skirt.

⁃ i do think there's also an element of it too where, there's obvious anxiety and concern about him being a visibly brown and trans/gnc person in fucking London of all places, but as time goes on i do think there's a bit of like. even if i face violence for this what does it matter. i hardly leave the archives anyways, and even then, would that really be anything? in the face of everything else that's happened?

⁃ in the safehouse jon and martin (who to me is a trans man btw) talk about gender a bunch and Jon realizes they want to try using both he and they pronouns and maybe jon decides they want to do some more feminine things, want to try wearing skirts and maybe painting their nails again and martin braids flowers into their hair and things are good

⁃ and then season 5 and the apocalypse hits.

⁃ for the first little while in the safehouse jon's hair is still long. but before they leave, he cuts it, for several reasons -- first like, if keeping it long and presenting femininely was partially about control for Jon, this is them letting Go of that, of what he perceives to have just been an Illusion control. yeah it might make them a bit dysphoric but so what, my body was never mine tobegin with.

⁃ and i think he's also doing it as a mental preparation for leaving the cabin, after jon and martin have had the initial talk about eventually leaving. long hair is a liability; hair can get pulled on and tugged on when being kidnapped and grabbed at; hair can be drenched in shampoo and twisted by plastic hands; hair can be tangled and snag on the walls of a coffin; it can be full of dirt days and days later; hair is a hassle and a hazard and an illusion of control and above all it was a comfort to jon and this is no longer a world where you can trust comfort, martin.

⁃ martin walks in on jon in the bathroom staring at themself in the mirror with a pair of scissors. they ask martin to cut it for them. (martin gets a haircut too, in a show at solidarity and some levity. also undercut martin rights)

⁃ anyway, Somewhere Else Jon wears flowy dresses and grows his hair long and leaves lipstick stains on martin's face when they kiss and hikes his skirts up above his knees when they work in the garden and their hair is long and dark and thick and curly and he likes it; likes the way it looks and feels, the way martin runs his fingers through it, the way it reminds him of his mother and the way it makes him smile at the person they see standing in the mirror.

⁃ and it's good. it's really good.

#tma #the magnus archives #jon sims #jonathan sims #jonmartin #martin blackwood #georgie barker #magnuspod #magpod #tma headcanons #lgbtq #queer #trans #nonbinary #quasartalks #quasarwrites #literally literally have discord messages from two years ago of me yelling abt this and making a fic abt it #(from which i typed up a lot of this post) #and yet here we are #two years later #ficless #so have this instead. i care them

[spnexploration]

Collared part 21

Pairing: Dean x Reader eventually

Series summary: Sam and Dean save a woman from where she has been held as a slave by a witch. But things turn dark whenever they try to take her magic collar off, leaving them with a slave to look after and a curse to break.

Episode summary: Dean apologises

Warnings: none

Word count: 1.6k

A/N: Big thanks to @iprobablyshipit91 for sense-checking the part in her head for me!

Series masterlist | Supernatural writing masterlist

Part 20 <- -> Part 22

Dean knocked on your door, “Y/N, it’s me, can I come in please?” 

“What do you want?” you said sullenly. 

“To apologise. And I have a peace offering.” 

You didn’t say anything. 

“Please can I come in?” he asked again.  

“Ok,” you said quietly. Dean opened your bedroom door and stepped inside but did not approach you. He was holding a block of chocolate that he put on the floor near you, then stood up to speak. 

“I wanted to apologise for grabbing you and picking you up today, I know you don’t like me touching you. But Sam was stuck behind the lady with the trolley and couldn’t get to you. I wasn’t going to carry you because I know you didn’t like when I did that before, but then I thought you were going to faint and then people would demand we take you to hospital, but I figured if you were already in my arms if you passed out then I could cover it up and get you to Cas if needed. So I’m sorry I did all of that without your consent.” 

That wasn't what you were expecting. You hadn’t even really thought about the fact that he’d carried you out; you’d just been so embarrassed about the whole thing and depressed about how you couldn’t fit clothes, couldn’t handle people, couldn’t even go to a shop and buy bloody pants without freaking out and needing rescuing.  

“If you hadn’t, I’d probably still be on the ground now,” you said sadly, “or shipped off to some mental institution because I can’t even handle simple shopping and they’d all think I was insane if I told them it was because a witch had kept me captive.” 

Dean looked like he wanted to reach out to you, but stopped himself. “Just because today didn’t go well doesn’t mean that you won’t ever be able to do it,” he said gently. He seemed a little uncomfortable, like he didn’t talk like this normally. It was quite different to his usual macho persona. “It’s just too early, you’re still processing. I dunno, Sam’s better at this shit than I am, but I do know that just because I fuck up killing one vampire doesn’t mean I won’t learn from that and gank the next one.” 

You laughed at his analogy. He never talked about killing monsters to you when you still had the collar on.  

“Do you want to come out and watch TV with Sam and I?”  

“Umm...” 

“We have snacks! I’ll even let you pick what to watch and I won’t complain about it once. You can ask Sam, that is not something I offer willy-nilly.” 

You laughed again and slowly nodded. He looked pleased. 

---  

“Were you bullshitting earlier or could demons or witches or whatever be after me?” You'd been so caught up in your panic attack you'd forgotten about this earlier, but sitting on your cushion on the floor watching a movie, you'd suddenly remembered.  

“Well, we hadn't really been intending to tell you like that,” Sam said with a glare at Dean, “But it's true. We're just trying to work it out.” 

“Bullshit,” you said, temper flaring again. “You never intended to tell me at all!” 

“Y/N-“ Sam tried.  

“No, you two would much prefer to treat me like a child. Tell me to go to bed, hide things from me, the list goes on!” 

“We’re not trying to treat you like a child-” 

“Oh really? The streaming service said parental controls are in operation!” 

“We were trying to protect you when you had the collar on, you were understandably scared of everything. I just forgot to take them off.” 

“No, you just hoped I wouldn't notice!” You stood up and stormed out of the room, marching down to your room. You weren't even sure you believed what you were saying, but you just felt so damn angry! 

---   

“She is a fucking yo-yo,” Dean muttered to Sam when you'd stormed off. “One second she's sweet, then she's sad, then she's screaming blue murder again.” 

“Trauma. Plus, it’s probably like when they say people go through stages of grief. I'm pretty sure anger is in there.” 

“Any idea how long this is going to last?” 

“How long is a piece of string?” 

Dean sighed.  

---  

You paced your room. Those bloody brothers, always treating you like a child. Bossing you around, literally telling you to go to bed like you were 7. Controlling what you ate, what you watched, when you left the bunker – which was practically never.  

Dimly, you were aware that you were conflating their behaviour when you had the collar on with how they acted now that it was off. No one had told you to go to bed since the collar had been removed, although you’d barely been out of your room for them to talk to you. But it was hard to separate in your memories when you had the collar and when you didn’t; it was easier to just remember other people’s behaviour and clump everything together. 

And they should have known! They knew you were a person! They knew you were an adult! What right did they have to act like that even with the collar?! The collar didn’t change anything about you! It’s just their bullshit behaviour that’s the problem here.  

And IF you might have responded differently with the collar on, well they could just deal. The problem is them, is how they’ve always treated you. You weren’t looking for them to boss you around! And…! And…  

Your anger started to get derailed as you struggled to continue buying your own logic. Nothing you were thinking made any sense, even to your addled and confused brain. Your lack of clarity of thought was making you even more confused and worked up. 

But through it all, the anger remained. The ever-present, red-hot anger.  

Screw the Winchesters. It didn’t matter what logic you did or didn’t use, they were still treating you like a child. They were the problem here, not your brain.  

Maybe you’d just go watch an R rated movie later. Yeah, that’d show them.  

---  

Sam had removed the parental controls when you got to the TV, long after they’d both gone to bed. Good. 

It took you a while to work out all of the controls, smart TVs were so different to when you’d last been able to browse for yourself. Hell, prior to moving to the bunker, to when you’d last even seen a TV. But you worked it out.  

You found the horror category. You’d never been super into horror movies and you paused, wondering if this was a good idea. But then the resentful, angry part of you remembered being treated like a child. Remembered your feelings of inadequacy when you couldn’t even buy something in a shop.  

You clicked play.  

It was barely 10 minutes in and you were already terrified. You screamed when something jumped out again, and curled your toes when blood gushed out of a character’s wound. You screwed your face up and hid it behind your knees when it looked like they were about to be killed. 

You turned the TV off. You felt both relieved and morose, unable to do a normal adult thing again.  

You padded back to your room and got into your blankets on the floor. You avoided even looking at the bed, not wanting yet another reminder of how not-normal you were, of all the things you couldn’t bring yourself to do.  

You closed your eyes.  

Your brain replayed the worst bits of the horror movie to you. You tried to crumple up the sketch sheet in your mind’s eye, force it to show you something else, but it didn’t work. You tried to think about other things but that backfired: suddenly instead of being worried about some fictional character being tortured, you were remembering literally being tortured. 

Azaneth. His knife. His orders. Making you cry and scream and beg him to stop, then laughing in your face. You tried to stop your mind dwelling on it, but every time you forced yourself away, somehow your thoughts came back to him again.  

You were sweating, starting to freak out.  

You felt scared, felt like you were cowering in room 14 again, even though you’d never had blankets or a pillow in that room. The room felt both tiny and giant, like it was going to crush you or like its walls stretched on forever.  

Sometimes, for a change of pace, your brain showed you the blood and gore from the movie again. But then it became your blood, circling back around in a horrifying, never-ending chain.  

You didn’t know what to do.  

Eventually, you couldn’t stand being alone in your room anymore. You needed something to remind you you weren’t alone, to stop you going crazy.  

You opened the door and fled to the corridor.  

But now what?  

You crept along the corridor, worried about the brothers seeing you like this, and yet somehow also wanting to see the brothers, to not feel alone.  

You found yourself outside Dean’s room. You could hear him snoring. It was… comforting. You remembered the times he had saved you, like when he grabbed you so the witch couldn’t get her book. You’d felt so much safer in his arms.  

Feeling incredibly foolish, you went and grabbed a pillow and blanket from your room.  

You curled up outside Dean’s door and fell asleep, listening to the sounds of him sleeping.  

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester angst #dean winchester hurt/comfort #dean winchester saves you #protective!dean winchester #protective!dean #supernatural fanfiction #spn #spn fanfiction #collar #sam winchester #sam winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #dark fanfiction #dean x reader #dean x you #supernatural x reader #slavery #sam winchester x platonic!reader #supernatural #supernatural angst #protective dean winchester

[rowyn-writes]

How I Think The Supernatural Men Would React To Finding Out You’re Pregnant.

Dean:

Convinced he heard you wrong

You have to show him the five positive pregnancy tests you took for him to believe you

Immediately starts freaking out

“W-what are we gonna do?! We can’t raise a baby! Not being a hunter we can’t!”

Is adamant on retiring from hunting to keep you and the baby safe.

Wants to start baby proofing the bunker asap.

“Dean, we have eight months and then some before we have to worry about the baby bumping into corners and trying to stick a fork in an electrical outlet.”

He’s so excited to be a dad, although he’s terrified that he’ll turn out like John.

Calls Jodie and Bobby (He’s alive because I said so) and asks them for advice.

Insists on making the baby listen to Led Zeppelin and AC/DC.

Surprisingly, he can’t wait to start decorating the baby’s room. (He even goes to Ikea to pick out furniture)

Sam:

Starts laughing because funny enough, you found out you were pregnant on April 1st.

“Very funny, Y/N.”

“I’m serious, Sammy.”

He went to the store and bought you a pregnancy test just to he sure you weren’t messing with him.

“You’re really pregnant?!”

“Told you, dumbass.”

He laughs, but this time it’s from excitement.

He picks you up and spins you around, which wasn’t a good idea due to morning sickness

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” He apologizes as he holds your hair back while you throw up.

“I hate you.”

Makes a list of baby names. He wants to name the baby after either Jodie or Bobby (His real parents) whether that be their first or middle name.

Human!Cas:

Honestly doesn’t know how to react.

He’s nervous about being a father.

He has literally no idea how to take care of a baby.

So he buys a ton of child care books. And I mean a ton.

Once he stops freaking out, he feels excitement overwhelm him.

He literally watches you like a hawk and refuses to let you do any kind of work.

He’s so scared that someone will come after you that he insists on hiding in the bunker for the rest of eternity. 

“Cas, I am not staying in the bunker for the rest of my life.”

“It’s just a thought.”

He, strangely enough, wants to go clothes shopping for the baby. He sees all the tiny baby clothes and gets really excited.

“It’s so small.” He smiles.

He ends up being an amazing father.

100% thinks you’re lying.

“You’re not pregnant, there’s no way.”

“Well, you see, when an Archangel and a human love each other very much-”

He doesn’t know how to react when he truly finds out you’re pregnant.

He starts to freak out.

"Everyone knows what happens to humans that carry Nephlim babies!"

"Does everyone know that?"

Gabriel will stop at nothing to make sure that you're not harmed when you deliver the baby.

#Supernatual #gabriel supernatural #supernatural fluff #supernatural imagine

[meaninglessblah-writes]

three word prompt: "You look lost” for SladeRoy please 🥹

For you, always. Thank you for the prompt! ❤️

"You look lost," Roy accuses, and can't help but tense when the mercenary turns. He thinks he manages to mask it by crossing his arms over his chest, leaning casually in the open doorway of his room.

From the way Slade's eye sparkles with amusement, Roy thinks he might not look so unaffected. "I think I'm exactly where I need to be, actually," Deathstroke replies.

The asshole doesn't even have the decency to look ashamed at being caught red-handed rifling through Roy's personal belongings. Doesn't even have the humility to sneak around, bold as anything as he helps himself to the contents of Roy's room.

Roy doesn't even bother asking how Slade managed to bypass the Titans' Tower security grid. "Dick's room's that way," he says, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder. "Third on the left down the hall — you can't miss it."

"I'm not here for Grayson," Slade returns, unhurried. Roy feels like prey beneath that gaze, heat gathering beneath the freckles on his cheeks.

"Is it just my panty drawer you're here to dig through?" Roy doesn't even know why he's not dead yet. It's not like there's any sentimentality between them. Just because he spent a night in Wilson's bed one reckless weekend in Kentucky.

Slade arches a cool brow. "Didn't think you had enough panties to need a whole drawer. But I have to admit, these are cute."

He lifts a hand, red lace dangling from an outstretched finger. Damning as anything.

That flush burns to the intensity of a forest fire. It incinerates whatever braincells Roy had left, because the next thing he knows, he's stalking across the room to snatch the red panties from the mercenary and stuff it into the nearest drawer.

"That's none of your business." Roy doesn't even know where Slade found those; he's pretty sure he lost them under the bed after a wild night. "It was a dare anyway," he snaps, fumbling for plausibility.

Slade looks unconvinced. Whatever, he's not here to prove himself to Deathstroke the Terminator. "The things teenagers will do these days," he hums, and goes right back to rifling through Roy's drawers.

"What are you looking for?" Roy demands, flabbergasted.

Then he realises, with a mortified strike of dread. Slade has dug through Roy's clothes, nearly to the very back of the chest of drawers, and Roy knows back there he'll find—

"Wait," he yelps, just as Slade's hand closes on grey, washed out fabric.

Slade unearths the clothes, sending t-shirts and sweats tumbling to the floor at Roy's feet. He feels his face wash white, and then fill with a rush of blood when Slade's crooked brow turns on him.

He brandishes the official-looking Fort Knox Army Base sweatshirt at him, the faded and flaking lettering damning. "A souvenir, hmm?"

Roy's mouth moves, but no words surface. "I—"

Slade bundles the sweatshirt up and tucks it under his arm, shouldering past Roy. "Doing some thrift shopping after a night in my bed, Arsenal? I'm not a museum gift shop."

Roy doesn't point out that his own sweatshirt was unwearable because Slade had the audacity to get come all over it. Nevermind that it was Roy's own come, the bastard.

That sweatshirt was one of the most comfortable he'd ever worn, long in the sleeves and spacious. Notwithstanding it had to be at least forty years old, by Roy's estimate. He's not keen to see it walk out of his sight.

Besides, he kind of liked sneaking out of Slade's apartment wearing the old man's clothes. And maybe, if he were being entirely honest, Roy's worn it more than just the once.

"You weren't using it," he tries for, following the mercenary out into the hallway.

"You dug it out of my laundry hamper," Slade says, gruff and unimpressed. Roy tries not to marvel, again, over the fact that Deathstroke the Terminator keeps a laundry hamper. "I'm taking back what's mine."

"What if I pay you for it?" Roy tries desperately.

"Not for sale," Slade says, and Roy catches up to him at the elevator, blocking his path.

"I could wear it," Roy blurts, and can practically feel the heat radiating from his face. Slade's brow creases, like he's not grasping what Roy's trying to offer. He looks anywhere but at Slade's face when he says, "I'll wear it while you, uh—"

Slade's eye clears with understanding, and Roy almost wishes the ground would open up and swallow him.

Behind him, the elevator pings.

#meaninglessblah answers #i-am-verybusy #230707

[viadescioism]

Ujamaa (Cooperative Economics):

Ujamaa (Cooperative Economics): Ujamaa, the fourth principle of Kwanzaa, pronounced oo-JAH-mah, emphasizes the concept of Cooperative Economics. Celebrated on the fourth day of Kwanzaa, this principle is centered around building and maintaining communal stores, shops, and businesses to profit together. It embodies the value of using collective energy to economically benefit the community, focusing on the sharing of wealth and work, beginning within the family. Involves building, strengthening, and controlling the economics of the community. This concept does not imply isolation or exclusion of others but rather focuses on maintaining control over the community's economic future while working cooperatively with others.

Ujamaa is more than just an economic principle; it's about creating a self-sufficient and supportive community. It encourages investing in and supporting Black-owned businesses and community projects, thus fostering a sustainable economic environment within the community.

It goes beyond simple acts of kindness, aiming to end poverty and vulnerability by sharing resources and wealth. This practice of generosity is not only about helping the disadvantaged but also about ultimately improving the overall well-being and quality of life for all community members.

"Kwanzaa," Encyclopaedia Britannica, last modified December 23, 2023, https://www.britannica.com/topic/Kwanzaa.

"Kwanzaa - Meaning, Candles & Principles," HISTORY, accessed December 25, 2023, https://www.history.com/topics/holidays/kwanzaa-history.

"Kwanzaa," Wikipedia, last modified December 25, 2023, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kwanzaa.

"Kwanzaa," National Museum of African American History and Culture, accessed December 25, 2023, https://nmaahc.si.edu/explore/stories/kwanzaa.

"The First Kwanzaa," HISTORY.com, accessed December 25, 2023, https://www.history.com/this-day-in-history/the-first-kwanzaa.

My Daily Kwanzaa, blog, accessed December 25, 2023, https://mydailykwanzaa.wordpress.com.

Maulana Karenga, Kwanzaa: A Celebration of Family, Community and Culture (Los Angeles, CA: University of Sankore Press, 1998), ISBN 0-943412-21-8.

"Kente Cloth," African Journey, Project Exploration, accessed December 25, 2023, https://projectexploration.org.

Expert Village, "Kwanzaa Traditions & Customs: Kwanzaa Symbols," YouTube video, accessed December 25, 2023, [Link to the specific YouTube video]. (Note: The exact URL for the YouTube video is needed for a complete citation).

"Official Kwanzaa Website," accessed December 25, 2023, https://www.officialkwanzaawebsite.org/index.html.

Michelle, Lavanda. "Let's Talk Kwanzaa: Unwrapping the Good Vibes." Lavanda Michelle, December 13, 2023. https://lavandamichelle.com/2023/12/13/lets-talk-kwanzaa-unwrapping-the-good-vibes/.

#kwanzaa #black community #black culture #african american #pan africanism #black history #happy holidays

[profoundbondfanfic]

Another batch of our favorite aro/ace/demi fics!

Part 7

We're the New Romantics by almaasi [Teen, 8K, Aro!Cas]

“He’s so pretentious.” “Who is?” “Castiel.” Dean sneered as he said the name. “Look at him. He only brought one bag, and it’s tiny. And orange.” “Maybe he doesn’t like carrying a lot of stuff,” Charlie said, shouldering her own rainbow-coloured weekender bag, leading Dean out of the crowd and towards the picnic benches. “Gifted-and-Talented Summer Camp is only four days. A change of clothes and a toothbrush, that’s all most people need.” “What about when he sleeps? Doesn’t he at least need a pair of jammies? And that freaking nose ring. Seriously, he looks like a bull. I wonder if anyone’s ever told him.”

The Graveyard Shift by PurgatoryJar & riseofthefallenone [Explicit, 620K, Demi!Cas]

Dean’s favourite coffee shop, The Graveyard Shift, is only open after the sun goes down. Which is perfect for him, because that’s exactly when he craves coffee the most while doing the overnight at the fire hall. The coffee shop’s owner is pretty perfect too, but it’s kind of a bummer that Dean never gets to see Cas during the day. In a world where the supernatural live more or less in peace with the rest of humanity, it’s a little impolite to ask Cas just what he really is - or what his dark past entails.

hold me (just for tonight) by kitmistry [Teen, 1,5K, Ace!Cas]

Parties are always fun, and they come with the best tips.

Moonflower by K_K_TiBal [Teen, 18K, Ace!Cas]

Castiel is not a very good witch. He's just not. He struggles with potions, illusions, divination - everything that makes a witch respectable, and his familiar - Dean - definitely deserves better than him. When Dean falls under a curse that seems to affect his shape-shifting abilities, Castiel and Dean begin to run out of money, and Castiel decides the best thing they can do is go after a rare Moonflower to help get themselves back on their feet. The journey could be dangerous, especially considering Castiel's less-than-ideal abilities and Dean's curse, but with a little luck, it will all be worth it in the end.

Easy by mnwood [General, 911, Aro!Dean]

When Cas comes back from the Empty, it takes Dean some time to adjust.

Coming to Terms by Unforth [Explicit, 169K, Aro!Dean]

Naomi Novak has laid out her son's entire life. Castiel Novak-Shurley must get a great education, focus on business, ignore frivolous things, attend Harvard Business School, become an investment banker at International Angel Deposit Bank, maintain his virtue, marry a proper beta or omega, and make lots of alpha babies. Even when fitting her expectations was difficult for him, Castiel has done his best to comply. Until now. His mother is arranging a marriage for him - he doesn't know to whom, but he knows it's happening, and soon - and before he ties the knot (figuratively and literally) Castiel wants to have an experience all his own: he wants to bottom for an alpha. Nervous, terrified, Castiel goes to Palmeton’s red light district and hires Jensen, a gorgeous young alpha prostitute who smells like fresh-cut grass and sunshine and lemonade. With Jensen, Castiel finds the courage to ask for what he wants. Being knotted is amazing. Castiel’s not an omega, but…but being with Jensen - who's real name turns out to be Dean - is everything Castiel has dreamed of. And now he has to figure out: how is he supposed to go the rest of his life without experiencing that again?

First and Only by almaasi [Explicit, 35K, Aro&Demi!Cas]

Single bachelor Dean bets he can have sex more times within a calendar year than his happily-married brother. But when Castiel – Dean’s roommate, best friend, and total virgin – asks Dean to be his First, Dean’s plan to bed numerous strangers goes up in smoke. Over the weeks, then the months, Cas becomes his go-to guy. His “fuck buddy”, if you will. But that doesn’t sound right. It doesn’t feel right. Dean was Cas’ First, but now he wants to be Cas’ Only. Now he’s gotta figure out how the heck to court a guy he’s successfully wooed a hundred times already.

#destiel #group rec #ace week #ace!dean #ace!castiel

[gococogo]

Playing Couple Pt.2

「Synopsis 」 : Dean is getting restless but he finds out that Cas has made some friends that could further their investigation for the good.

「Word count」 : 1/49K

-> Genre: Supernatural Fluff

Paring: Dean Winchester / Castiel

[Warnings] : Cas wearing normal clothes

Note: Sorry this part is a little slow, setting up for the next part

| M.List | Pt. 1 | Pt. 3

The next day came by quickly and Dean found himself bored waiting around already. Castiel had somehow convinced him that he would go out and grocery shop for him. Dean tried to preoccupy himself inside on the TV or checking up on the protection around the house. But Cas had already checked everything over and nothing was on TV or anything on a binging sight that looked interesting. So, Dean decided an hour ago to clean Baby even though she wasn’t due for a clean.

He wears a singlet instead of all the layers he usually has on to wash the car. He’s noticed a few of neighbours come out to inspect their garden, stare at Dean for a while then head back inside. Or one of them brought out their bin out early to have a look at their new neighbour. Dean feels exposed out in the neighbourhood, not liking how everyone wants to get in on the new gossip.

Yes, there’s always gossip in the hunter circle. On whom killed what, how many one hunter has killed or who has betrayed who and the list goes on. But neighbourhood gossip is different. Dean can ditch a hunter and never see their face again if he didn’t like them. You’re stuck with your neighbours, and they’re stuck with you.

Castiel comes back just as Dean finishes up. He caught the public bus in to not raise suspicion since he wasn’t allowed to drive Baby. Dean made that very aware. Cas walks from up the street where the bus stop was with bags of groceries in hand that would normally stop a human in their tracks.

“How are things, honey?” Cas asks him casually.

It takes Dean a moment to remind himself it’s an act, and that they’re outside with watching eyes. He’ll have to get use to it, but it feels like he won’t.  

“Just finished up here,” Dean answers back awkwardly. “You need help?” He asks, even though he knows that Cas doesn’t need the help.

But Cas says, “Yes, that would be lovely.”

He holds out one hand that holds at least four bags. Dean takes two bags in each hand so he doesn’t pop his shoulder out. He follows Cas inside with a grunt with how heavy one of the bags are. Once inside, he quickly plops them on the counter and looks inside the bags. The bag that was weighing Dean down as two cartons of milk in it with orange juice and-

“You got me beer?” Dean says a little too happily, grabbing the warm six pack out.

“Yes,” Cas says as he begins unpacking the bags. “I know you like a beer with your greasier foods.”

It touches Dean but he doesn’t let it show. He gives a rough, “Thank you,” instead.

Cas takes the six pack off of Dean and puts it in the fridge for later tonight. Dean sits at the counter and watches the angel put everything in their rightful place.

“Anything happen while you were out?” Dean asks once Cas finishes.

Cas hesitates before saying a not so confident, “No.”

Dean raises an eyebrow at that, “What happened? Did you run into what we’re hunting?”

Castiel leans on the counter. “I had a bit of trouble getting the last apple pie that was there,” he says.

“You didn’t beat anyone up did you?”

The angel is silent.

“Cas,” Dean says firmly.

“I may have snatched the last apple pie out of a man’s basket while he wasn’t looking,” he replies with a shrug.

That gets a short laugh out of Dean, a smile spreading across his face. “Cas, you can’t go stealing other people’s groceries,” he says seriously but light heartedly.

“It’s not stealing if he hasn’t bought it yet,” Cas argues.

Dean can’t say anything back. Because the angel has a fair point. But it still isn’t right to do, but he can’t stop the angel from doing some of the stuff he does. He’s a stubborn son of a bitch sometimes.  

“Any updates on the creature?” Dean asks.

“Unfortunately, not,” Cas replies with a slight shake of his head.

The hunter groans and paces into the living room then back to the kitchen. “I can’t sit around like this, Cas,” he groans.

“It’s what we have to do,” Cas says. “You can try gardening. Anything to make us look like normal people on the neighbourhood.”

“Gardening!?” Dean snaps. “Do I look like I garden?”

“It was just a suggestion, Dean.”

-

Two days go by before a knock on their door has Dean jumping off the couch. Castiel took the gardening around the house since he has nothing else to do. Dean has just been mopping about this entire time. But the knock has Dean running to the door. He opens it a little too eagerly and is a little taken a back when a middle-aged woman stands there with a large smile on her chubby face. She’s short and stocky with a thick set of hair on her head. It’s short and frizzy, looking like it’s just been washed. She looks Hispanic but she might also have some Italian in her as well.

“Hello! I didn’t mean to bother you,” she says with a thick Hispanic accent. “Is Castiel in?”

Dean is a little taken a back. “Yeah, he’s out the back.”

“Oh, could you grab him please. I would like to ask him something,” she tells him, the smile never leaving her face.

“What is your name?” Dean asks.

“Gabriella.”

“Dean. I’ll grab him.” He introduces himself.

Dean closes the door and goes to fetch Cas. The angel is currently in the garden, trying to dig up all the weeds and replanting the flowers and other stuff that came with the house. The angel has changed from his suit and trench coat, and it is immensely weird to see him in normal clothes. He wears a white button up shirt with blue jeans. It reminds Dean of when he turned human for a while. He will never get use to seeing the angel in said, ‘human clothes’. Dean on the other hand just wears what he normally wears.

“Cas,” Dean says, grabbing his attention. “There’s a woman called Gabriella wanting you?”

The angel perks up at that. “Is she needing help with her cat again?”

“What? No?” Dean spits out a little too quickly.

Castiel takes his gardening gloves off and wipes his hands on his jeans. “She say anything else?” He asks.

“No, who is she?”

“She’s not the thing we’re hunting, Dean,” Cas has to tell him sternly. “I helped her with her cat down the street yesterday.”

“A cat?”

“Yes,” the angel says he walks back inside the house.

Dean follows him to the front door where Gabriella is still waiting. Her face lights up again at seeing the angel.

“Oh, Castiel! How are you!” Gabriella says cheerfully.

“I’m going good,” he responds.

Dean shuffles in beside Cas so he isn’t out of the conversation. An arm snaking around Dean’s waist makes him stiffen up and he has to not outwardly react to the foreign feeling. But Cas acts so natural, bringing Dean in closer because he knows that the hunter wants to listen in. They’re so close that Dean can smell the dirt and grass on the angel.

“I want to invite you to dinner on Thursday night. I have other friends on the neighbourhood that are coming,” Gabriella invites them. “I think it would be good for you two to meet other people that are here. Get settled in more,” she adds.

Getting to know everyone. That would benefit their job way more than sitting here doing nothing. Before Dean can agree, Cas is already.

“That sounds great. We’ll be there,” Castiel says, squeezing Dean’s side.

“Oh, that’s wonderful, you can come around seven. You don’t need to bring anything but yourselves,” Gabriella cheers lightly. “I’ll be seeing you Thursday if I don’t see you around before then.”

Then she’s off with a wave. She kinda waddles down the driveway and down the street. As soon as Cas closes the door, Dean is pushing himself out of the angel’s grip. Cas is a little offended but it’s to be expected. But Dean doesn’t snap at him for holding him.

“This is good! Right?” Dean celebrates this small win.

“We don’t know if the creature will be there,” Cas says, not wanting to have some hope and then they’re let down.

“Yes, I know I know,” Dean waves his hand. “But it’s a win.”

Thursday is three days away. Dean just has to put up with three more days of this shit before then. Oh, this job could finally be over and done with before the week ends. It’ll go smoothly and they’ll be back at the bunker to search for a more eventful job.

Oh, how Dean, is completely wrong on that.

-

Do not steal, plagiarize, translate, repost, or use my work in any way, shape or form.

Masterlist

NAV

#coco posts #destiel fic #destiel #dean winchester #dean winchester fic #castiel #castiel fic #cas #cas fic #cas x dean #cas x dean fic #dean x cas #dean x cas fic #supernatural #supernatural fic #spn #spn fic #destiel fluff #destiel angst #cas x dean fluff #castiel x dean #dean x castiel #dean x castiel fic #castiel x dean fic

[sleepy-achilles]

Heyyyy… had to get one of my ear piercings re-done today and it’s still sore (own stupid fault for not wearing earrings for about a million years) and I’m feeling sorry for myself. I feel like a cure would be some Family of Destruction where Taker and l’il Cassie have a Daddy-Daughter day?

A day late but hey, maybe it can still help

The Family of Destruction- Daddy-Daughter Day.

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

Taker was working on his bike when Shawn came in. Key-word, was.

"You need to look after cassie." Shawn states. "Hi to you too love. What's going on?" Taker asks lifting his head. "I haven't got time. I promised both John and Leon something and they remembered. Atleast Leon did. So i have to go, you have to go inside and watch cassie" Shawn explains. "You know, I miss the days you stopped me working on my bike for other things" Taker smirks. "If cassie gives me a good report you might be lucky" Shawn calls as he walks out. "Fuck Shawn..." Taker groans tilting his head back.

He sits against his bike thinking. He loves his kids he does, but him and shawn have just been so busy they barely get any them time. So if that means spoiling his kids, that's just what he'll do.

He grabs his rag and starts wiping his hands. "CASSIE! WE'RE GOING OUT GET READY!" Taker yells as he pulls himself up.

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

Cassie holds her fathers hand as they walk around the mall. "Why did we leave the valley?" Cassie asks. "You said you always wanted to come to this mall" Taker states. "But you said we had no need to com-" "look daddy says a lot of things to keep papa happ-" "Papa wasn't there" cassie points out. Taker sighs. "Do you want to spend daddy's money or not?" Taker asks. "Of course" cassie smiles. "Thats what I thought" Taker chuckles. Cassie giggles and pulls her father towards the first clothes shop.

Taker can't help but groan as the smell of perfume hits him.

It's gonna be a long day.

--------

Cassie smiles as she walks through the mall with a new pair of sunglasses on and a strawberry ice cream. She can't help but giggle as her dad mutters something.

Taker adjusts his grip on the bags as he follows her. How one little girl could have him so whipped he didn't know. He also knew no one could find this out.

"Daddy!" The little girl squeals. Taker looks up to see them stopped outside the tattoo shop. "Your a bit young for that" Taker states. "No! Look!" She smiles pointing.

Taker glances at the girl in the seat, around cassies age getting her ears pierced. "Oh right..well I'd have to ask p-" he cuts himself off as the girl turns to him and lowers her sunglasses revealing the biggest puppy dog eyes he's ever seen. "I..cas..."

"Fine."

-----------

Leon and John try to hide their giggles as cassie goes on about her day. Shawn smiles at her and nods, side eying taker causing the bigger man to shrink. "Well, you really have had a eventful day haven't you?" Shawn asks. "Oh yes! I really did enjoy myself papa!" She smiles. "Good. Now go help your brothers clean up" Shawn smiles. She nods and takes her plate into the kitchen. Taker stares at the family dog as shawn moves to his chair.

Charlie just huffs and walks off.

"You took her to the mall out of town?" Shawn asks standing behind him. "Yes?" Taker whispers as shawn places his hands on his shoulders. "And spoiled her?" Shawn asks. "Maybe.." Taker whispers. Shawn leans down. "Guess you did earn it then" Shawn smirks as he whispers into takers ear. Taker perk up. "Really?!" Taker asks. Shawn chuckles and moves around the table, towards the stairs. "If you can keep down that is" Shawn smirks. "Me? Oh baby boy we all know how this is going" Taker growls standing up. "Kids! Once your done you can go out to play!" Shawn calls, keeping his eyes on his husband as he stalks. "Yes!" The kids cheer. "Back when the porch light-" "flickers three times! We know!" The kids call back.

That's all Shawn needs to hear before he's running upstairs with taker hot on his heels.

#wwe #shawn michaels #the undertaker #wwf #hbtaker #undertaker x shawn michaels #shawn x undertaker #leon michaels #cassidy michaels #john cena #charlie doggo #the family of destruction fics #the family of destruction

[angelsdean]

Opinions on Autistic Cas because I’m personally in an Autism Headcannons mood today? 🎤

opinions on autistic cas are that i love him<333 and dean loves him like. like i think sometimes cas thinks his quirks are bothersome to others. he doesn't like lots of foods and his brand of humor goes over ppl's heads a lot and he's blunt in ways some find rude and textures are sometimes too much but dean (and everyone else in cas's family) love all those things abt cas because they're what make him cas !! and dean especially loves finding things that feel right and taste good. he spends lots of time coming up w/ recipes for foods cas will eat and he likes shopping for cas and getting him nice feeling clothes. and dean loves listening to cas talk abt whatever he's currently interested in, like just sitting there for hours listening to cas talk and talk and absorbing everything. and dean loves when cas is blunt and just tells it like it is he's like 🗣️ SAY THAT CAS ! 🗣️ so supportive lol. and cas just feels sooo loved and comfortable in his home and with his family because the love him for exactly who he is and they never make him feel wrong or bad<3

#replies

[drkcnry67]

You don't have to do this

Title: you don't have to do this...

Pairing: soulless!twin!brotherSam x twin!sister reader

Spn kink: public sex

Tags: cock in pussy, cum in pussy, sex for all to see, sex in a store, no one doing anything pregnant by your Soulless slightly off the rails twin brother, roughly pressing you into the shelving, bruises, blackout from pain, your other brother and his angelic pal finding you and taking you to safety... VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED!!!!

Rating: 18+

Created for @spnkinkevents

One minute you are browsing some clothing in the only shop within miles of where you and your brothers were hunting, the next you feel someone stalking you.

You're grabbed and pushed into a rack of sunglasses, you feel your skirt is hiked up, but you then recognized the skin that was touching your own...

Yn: Sam, Sam what are you doing...

Soulless!twin sam: well I wanted to reiterate it to you that there's nothing wrong with me... I'm fine, I don't need my soul, I don't want it back..

Yn: Sam this isn't you, let me go and we can talk about this peacefully.

Sam then moves you closer to out of the aisle, where it is more visible to the eye of the public... he starts to dip his fingers in and out of your pussy.

Sam: oh yes I do, cause once I'm done, you and Dean better understand to leave me the hell alone... this is my message to you and every other stupid hunter who thinks I need saving...

That's when you felt it, one second rubbing against your slit, the next second a seering moment of pain that makes your body feel numb and makes you scream at the top of your lungs..

Meanwhile, it's the middle of the day and Dean is working a job... he is just finishing with a poltergeist... when he reaches back to the impala he is scared to death by Cas!

Dean: Jesus Christ Cas you scared the living daylights out of me... what brings you here

Cas: no time to play catch up Dean have you spoken to your sister today?

Dean: ya this morning before she left the hotel to go do some shopping why

Cas: this is bad... hold on we are traveling now...

Dean doesn't have time to respond before he and Cas are standing on the outside of a crowd of people mainly staff watching as Sam fucks you roughly...

Dean pulls out his fbi badge as does Cas and approaches one of the workers...

Manager: step back gentlemen.

They flash the badges...

Manager: oh thank goodness...

Dean: are you the manager here, can you tell us what's going on

Manager: yes I am, we all responded to a few complaints of someone being raped in the clothing department, and so obviously we are trying to reason with the man but he isn't listening... he is very hostile and seems a tad angry...

Dean: how long has this been happening...

Manager: not too sure but we all have been standing here for about 25 ish minutes already... trying to keep the public eye off of it...

Cas: the female is gonna need something to wear after we retrieve her...

Manager: of course of course she is welcome to anything... and all her stuff in her cart of there is on us too... it is a traumatic ordeal and I feel bad for her family...

Dean: that would be me... I'm her brother...

Manager: oh shit, we will let you to it then... if you want to grab a housecoat or something for her first...

Dean goes quickly to grab the fuzziest biggest men's house coat he could find... then he handed it to Cas and slowly started to approach...

Dean: Sammy, let her go...

Sam out of breath turns to Dean and smiles devilishly...

Sam: looks like the cavalry is here, be right with you Dean... we are just finishing up...

Dean: no let her go now! I will not ask again...

Sam: what are you gonna do Dean shoot me, newsflash I have no soul and I like it like this so let this be your lesson... stop trying to save me...

Dean: Sam don't you dare...

Cas: Dean he's almost at his peak...

Dean turns to the manager...

Dean: ok everyone around this area needs to back up immediately, and do not leave the area till we test everyone here for a powerful hallucinogen that has been used on this young man... my associate will take the young man to the station then come back to help clean up the mess in the meantime some suitcases of anti hallucinagen are right beside my associate he will explain to the manager how to use and distribute, I will take care of my sister and collect a few statements... thank you all for your help...

Dean holds up his gun and waits for Sam to be done before he goes to clock his brother over the head... throwing a blanket over him and leaving him for Cas to take over...

You however are flat on the floor crying with barely any clothes on... you shiver at the fuzzy housecoat which dawns your back...

You turn over to meet the eyes of your older brother.

Yn: Dean I'm...

Dean: shhh we will talk later right now let's get you covered up so we can get you out of here... and don't worry Sam's soul is gonna reunite with him again very very soon...

Yn: can we get a bunch of greesey food and watch really bad movies?

Dean: of course we can once we get back to uncle Bobby's! And if Sammy did get you pregnant, well no one has to know who the father is... no one will ever know... we would be fine...

Yn: Dean I...

Dean just cradles you housecoat and all into his arms and walks with you and bags of groceries to the impala! Placing you in front seat and the groceries in the truck.

Dean then comes over to you and stands watch as Cas exits the store with Sam over his shoulder in cuffs, Cas then goes to the other car and gives swift nod...

Both the impala and the beige sedan were on the road to Bobby's in minutes but what happens next is another story for another time.

~finished for now~

#spnkinkbingo #supernatural #sam x reader #supernatural smut

[keepcalmandjustships]

OC Info - Everything goes wrong (but it will be fine)

Name: Juanita [    ]

Age: 16 (28 former)

Birthday: May 1st

Star Sign: Taurus

Gender: Female

Height: 171 cm ( with heels)

Eye color: Pitch Black

Hair color: Black

Homeland: Ho Chi Minh city, Vietnam. She moved away years ago.

Family: Van Ca (mother), August (father), Thuy (younger sister), Robert Duong (ex-fiance)

Professional Status  

Dorm: Ramshackle

School Year: First  

Class: 1-A 

Student Number: 7

Occupations: Pokémon trainer (not official), Student (Grim and Jua: One student), Honor Guest of Heartslabyul, Directing Student.

Club: None

Best Subject: Literature, Potion and History

Fun Facts

Dominant Hand: Both

Favorite Foods: Deserts, Oolong Milk Tea, Curry, Vietnamese food, Hamburger, Cheesecake, Matcha Flavored Food, Sashimi, Rare Beefsteak, Tropical Fruit Tea, Soup, Noodles.

Least Favorite Food: Stuffed Bitter Melon Soup. 

Likes: Pokémon, Music, Her Friends, Her Family, Teasing people, Puns, Books, Arts, Shopping, Money, Sparkling Stuffs, Nicknames, Animals (Especially cats).

Dislikes: Being lied to by friends/family, Inefficient work, Unnecessary violence, Nightmare, Being underwater, Eating (Sometimes), Working, Dying, Praises that degrade other people, Crossing Her Boundary, Possessing Too Much Power, Hurting Children.

Hobbies: Chatting with the Pokémon, Traveling (used to), Cooking, Sewing, Painting, Writing, Drinking (Not recommended), Smoking (Definitely no recommended), Using some patients as guinea pigs for her berries and Pokémon Potion.

Talents: Getting involved in problematic situation, Understanding People, Literature Analysis, Rushing Deadlines, Abusing her Doe Eyes, Calming People and Pokémon, Staying Calm, Hiding Her Emotion, Self-defense, Alcohol Tolerance, Adaption.

Nickname: 

Chère Trickster - Rook Hunt

Koebi-ko-chan - Floyd

Weirdo-chan - Floyd

Mademoiselle - Rook Hunt

Henchman - Grim

Jua - Others

Scavenger - Leona

Mini-Jade - Others

Human child - Malleus

Little blessing - Mew

Little Iris - Florges

Little hummingbird - Gilly the Aegislash

Appearance and Personality

Juanita possesses a gender-neutral figure at first sight with average height compared to other students. Long and straight ebony hair which is over her waist contrary to her pale skin. Juanita’s face can be considered as pretty with high cheekbones and soft, slightly squishy cheeks. However, her bangs always cover her abyssal eyes and that big pair of glasses. She also wears enchanted clothes, provided by Crewel, to hide all the curve.

Juanita has an easy-going personality, never truly losing her temper or reject any responsibility that life forces on her. Her friends see her as a optimistic mom-friend who forgives people too easily and enjoys spoiling the hell out of them (which they love very much). Others sees, not so kindly, her as the strange, slightly bubbly and maniac transfer student that has no magic. She does prove that she has a backbone, however, when she blackmailed the bullies after punching the hell out of them in the cafeteria.

However, Juanita is extremely good in hiding her emotion and thought. She knows how to lead the conversation away from her and has a pretty silver tongue. She buries all the unstable mental health under the cover of happy go lucky student to avoid breaking down after her traumatic d4ath.

She tends to swear like a sailor during stressful moment.

Juanita treats people with kindness, but respect is something that you have to earn. She has an odd way to look at people and the world.

She has a heart filled with sad nostalgia, which fuels her love for Pokémon because they remind her of her childhood.

She is soft against children and teenagers and finds it easy to relate to some of their trauma. She wishes Crowley would hire some fucking therapist because she is not one, no matter what the students tend to say. She is not, goddamnit.

https://picrew.me/image_maker/1407730

#Juanita #twst x pokemon #twisted wonderland #twst oc #pokemon crossover #everything is wrong fic #everything goes wrong (but it will be fine) #fanfiction #oc biography #OC #picrew #not my art #update late #more info incoming

[notwiselybuttoowell]

Where previous generations mended as unobtrusively as possible, perhaps embarrassed by enforced thrift, new-wave repairers use a more decorative style of “visible mending”. Flora Collingwood Norris, a knitwear designer based in the Scottish Borders, reports growing demand for her colourful visible mending service. It’s an idea she began as a teenager, sourcing cashmere sweaters in charity shops, then embellishing any damage with her needle and thread.

“I see a hole as an opportunity,” she says. “It forces me to be creative and think about the size, position and context on the garment, then I play with yarn textures, colours and a combination of traditional darning techniques, patches and embroidery to elevate it to a new design element. Everybody can do this: it’s affordable and accessible. Giving garments a unique quality and a new chapter brings immense satisfaction.”

Given widespread supply chain issues and the cost of living crisis, many are being driven to “make do and mend” in a way not seen since the 1940s. There is, perhaps, a disconnect between mending as necessity and repair as a fashionable badge of honour – between someone struggling to keep a school jumper from falling apart and the fashionista using statement stitching to cover a moth hole in a designer item – but it may begin to reduce the stigma. It could also make people think about the disposability of fast fashion – and the 300,000 tonnes of clothing that goes to landfill annually in the UK.

A growing army of businesses, including Mulberry, Barbour and Uniqlo, have in-house mending, and other brands partner with third-party repair specialists. The Restory offers quality repairs of designer garments, either direct to consumers or in partnership with brands such as Manolo Blahnik and retailers including Farfetch, Selfridges and Harrods.

“We want clients to fall in love with their favourite things again, whether that means restoring the colour on a faded bag or repairing tears, holes, scuffs and other damage,” says founder and CEO Vanessa Jacobs, a New Yorker now based in London, who had the idea for Restory after receiving shoddy service when she took a pair of favourite shoes to a high street mending chain. “Aftercare is the biggest market you’ve never seen. It’s worth $100bn but it hadn’t been digitised and streamlined to meet modern needs. We launched in 2017 and, by last year, we had done 60,000 repairs. The tech and logistics infrastructure has advanced and growth is rapid. Britain and continental Europe are our biggest markets – although everything is done out of the UK at present – and we’re talking to major players in the US with a view to operating there, too.”

Mending may have the potential to earn big bucks for some, but it could also help heal the planet and its people. As artist Bridget Harvey says in her Manifesto for Making at Somerset House: “The contemporary repair maker demonstrates not only a care for the past but also an attitude firmly rooted in the future.”

#make do and mend #reduce reuse repair #fashion #arts and crafts #fast fashion #waste

[latinocas]

Fanfic ideas involving Jack and their identity:

After watching a romcom, Jack decided to travel through time to understand what is love and what are the different type of love. This one involves Jack finally recognizing how disfunctional is his family, Jack breaking the cycle of abuse and facing their parents and Jack deciding how they want to live.

Jack goes shopping with Cas to explore the different textures and prints and cuts of clothing. Cas teaches Jack about the history of clothing related to gender.

After being online for a while, Jack decides to explore Dean's gender to see if it'd suit them. It involves Jack studying how Dean presents himself and time traveling to meet the other versions of Dean. A lesson on internalized homophobia, overcompensating and toxic masculinity.

Jack spends the weekend with the Wayward Sisters and finds out about the different ways to be a woman.

Jack goes to school and is asked to write an essay about what is friendship for them. It ends up in Jacj finally processing all the interactions they've had before with other kids their age, along with what it means to be a nephilim and what is a normal life.

Jack starts making questions about sexuality, forcing Cas, Dean and Sam to reflect about theirs. It involves Jack being a curious kid and Team Free Will recognizing the defensive mechanisms and issues that came when they lost their innocence.

Jack tries different bodies and has their first dysphoric episode.

With Amara and Rowena's help, Jack interrogates demons and angels about their relationship with vessels and human bodies.

#Supernatural #Spn #Jack kline #Spn fanfic ideas #Spn fic ideas #Supernatural fanfic ideas #Supernatural fic ideas #Spn jack

[mimisempai]

The President and the Clerk - 5

Chapter Summary:

Prez goes shopping, Casey comes out of his fishbowl and Loki plays matchmaker

On AO3

Casey had just finished mixing the pancake batter and was heating a small knob of butter in the pan.

Even though it was the weekend, he was up early, but that didn't stop him from indulging in pancakes like he did every Saturday, because he liked to treat himself from time to time.

His gaze slid towards the room from which there was still no sound. Like the day before when he had woken up, he had been able to see that Prez was sleeping soundly.

As he poured the first ladle of batter into the pan, he thought back to the discussion he had had with Loki when they had picked up the trays in the cafeteria the day before.

"Loki, why is it that when I told you that Prez was sound asleep you said that it was interesting?" 

Loki smiled and replied, "You should know that we Loki cannot sleep in the company of people we don't trust."  

"You mean...?" 

Loki nodded. 

However Casey couldn't help but retort, "Yeah, but you and he keep denying that you're similar, so maybe that doesn't mean anything to him." 

Loki smiled at him again, "Trust me Cas, when it comes to survival instincts we are all the same. Prez trusts you, I am sure of it. And don't look at me like that, after all you were quick to earn my trust, my friend." 

Even now, he found it still hard to believe that this was true. But he could see with his own eyes that even when he had moved and gotten up this morning,  Prez had not moved an inch. Could it be that he really was worthy of the god's trust?

He was brought out of his reverie by the object of his thoughts coming into the kitchen. He flipped a pancake and turned to the counter where Prez had just sat.

Still in his pajamas, this time, fortunately for Casey's peace of mind, he had put on a t-shirt. Which didn't stop him from finding Prez adorable with his hair still in disarray and his sleepy look when he greeted him.

"Morning Casey." 

"Good morning,Prez."

Prez inhaled through his nose, "It smells amazing. It's actually what brought me here. What do you cook?"

Casey started another pancake, then explained, "Pancakes. It's one of the few pleasures I allow myself on my days off and since making it for two isn't more work, you'll get some too." 

Casey winked at him before flipping the pancake.

When his gaze fell on Prez again, he saw him wince and hold his bandaged wrist. Hurriedly, Casey  put the glass of water and the pill he had prepared in front of the god.

Prez smiled with gratitude before swallowing the pill and glass of water.

Casey finished preparing the pancakes then slid three onto Prez's plate in front of him and three for himself. 

He asked, "Coffee?"

Prez nodded again. Casey served them each a cup, put the rest of the pancakes in the middle of the counter before sitting down.

As he sipped his coffee, he watched over his cup as Prez tasted the first bite.

"Hmmm." hummed Prez before continuing with his mouth full, "This is delightful." Casey watched with pleasure and a little pride as he tasted the next bite and said softly, "Glad you like it."

"It's terrible, you're going to make me addicted. I'll never want to leave."

Casey ignored the pang his heart made but couldn't help but think, then don't leave. 

He forced himself to think about something else and changed the topic, "So, do you have plans for today yet?"

"I was wondering where and how I could get some clothes."

"Well I get my clothes in the commercial wing of the TVA, but I think Loki is going somewhere else. If you want, after breakfast, we can call him and ask."

Prez nodded enthusiastically, "Loki's clothes fit and he doesn't have too bad taste, but I'd like to have something of my own."

He swallowed another bite and paused, "But wait, how am I going to do that, I really have no money. I can't buy anything."

Casey exclaimed, "Didn't Loki and Mobius tell you? The TVA is offering a compensation payment to all the people they wronged."

With his mouth full, Prez smiled and once he had swallowed, he stated, "Wow Casey, if you want to put me in a good mood it's successful. But now I'm also scared."

Casey chuckled, "And of what?"

"Life has proven to me that whenever I am enjoying something, it doesn't last."

Casey could feel the hurt in Prez's voice and said softly, "Well we'll try to make it last this time, ok?" 

Then he added in a lighter tone, "And it's beginning now, here a fourth pancake." and put one on his plate.

As he copiously drizzled syrup over his pancake, Prez replied in a lighter tone as well, "I may be prince of Asgard and Jotunheim, but you are the prince of the TVA, dear Casey."

Casey chuckled into his coffee, "That's the first time anyone has ever called me a prince!" 

Prez looked at him intensely, "Then I'm glad I was the first one to notice."

Casey was glad he had the cup in front of his face so he could hide the blush on his cheeks.

They finished their breakfast in the same spirit, joking slightly. Then Prez cleaned up and put the dishes in the dishwasher. It had only been two days, but the scene gave Casey a sense of domesticity and routine that made him feel warm and fuzzy, and at the same time dread the day he would have to return to his loneliness.

Once again putting these melancholic thoughts aside, he picked up his phone and typed a message.

Hey Loki !

Prez would like to buy some

clothes. Where are you 

buying yours?

C.

Sent 9:00 a.m.

Hi Cas!

I'm going to the New-York 

of Earth-1108.

L.

Received 9:03 am

Thank you for the information.

C.

Sent 9:04 am

Do you want me to 

to go with him?

L.

Received 9:03 am

It would be really

nice of you.

C.

Sent 9:05 a.m.

I accept but with

one condition.

😏

L.

Received 9:03 a.m.

Dreading the worst, Casey nevertheless replied.

Which one?

C.

Sent 9:04 am

That you come 

with us.

L.

Received 9:03 am

Casey threw his temphone on the couch and began to rant, "What a bastard! God of mischief, my ass!"

Prez watched him with a puzzled expression. Casey dropped onto the couch and put his head in his hands. He felt Prez sit down next to him and the god asked, "Hey what's wrong?"

Casey stood up abruptly and, walking up and down, he explained, "It's just that Mister Loki, god of mischief and bullshit, is willing to go with you to earth-1108, where he usually buys his clothes, on the condition that I come with you, even though he knows full well that I-"

He returned to sit next to Prez on the couch and tried to calm down.

Prez, still a little confused, asked, "He knows full well that you what?"

Casey figured if he was going to look pathetic he might as well go all out, so he sighed, "I'm scared to death of getting out of the TVA."

When only silence answered him, he got angry, "Go ahead and laugh. Poor little Casey who knows nothing about life."

He buried his head in his hands, not wanting to see the disappointment on the face of the god.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and Prez's voice saying softly, "Casey, please look at me."

Casey shook his head.

Prez insisted, squeezing his shoulder, "Please."

Casey sighed and lifted his head, turning his eyes to Prez reluctantly.

When he met his gaze, he was surprised to find only compassion and understanding, no disgust, no disappointment, not even a trace of mockery.

He swallowed, unable to say anything.

Prez said softly, "It's just clothes, I don't need to be a fashion victim and at worst I have magic. A few clothes aren't worth the price of your fear."

"But..." 

Casey felt ashamed, depriving Prez of something just because of his angst but Prez stopped him by shaking his head and pulled out his temphone.

He wrote a message.

We will not go.

Thank you for your "help".

P.

Sent 9:20 am

What?

Why?

L.

Received 9:21 am

How can you call yourself 

his friend and want 

manipulate him into 

doing something 

that scares him so much?

Idiot!

P.

Sent 9:23 am

Casey's phone vibrated almost immediately after Prez sent his message to Loki. It was a call from Loki, Casey picked up. His friend did not wait to speak.

-Cas, I'm really sorry for my tasteless joke.. 

Of course I'll go with him. I didn't realize you took me seriously. 

I... I would never do that to you. I swear to you. Tell me you forgive me! 

Casey was silent for a moment, relieved both that Loki had agreed to go with Prez and that he hadn't ruined the moment for him, and also relieved that Loki hadn't had any devious intentions. 

-Casey? 

-Yes Loki, I'm here. I really thought this was a way for you to force me to overcome my fears.

-Casey, I swear it wasn't. It was a little dig, yes, to tempt you perhaps, but I realize it was really stupid of me. 

Will you forgive the idiot god of mischief that I am and who is still learning? 

Casey chuckled at Loki's description of himself and then replied.

-I'll forgive you in exchange for a week's worth of coffee in the cafeteria.

-A month if you want! But seriously Cas, I'm sorry.  

-It's okay Loki.

-Okay, so tell Prez I'll be there in half an hour. 

-Thanks for doing this for him.

-You're welcome. But you know, he's very protective of you, my little Cas. 

-Goodbye, Loki

Casey hung up without waiting for Loki's reaction and turned to Prez. 

"Loki is coming to pick you up in half an hour. It's all arranged."

Prea nodded, "Good for you, but Casey what I told you, I really meant it."

Casey smiled and replied, "I know and thanks for that."

They sat there for a few seconds looking at each other in silence, then Prez stood up suddenly, "Well I'm going to get ready before he gets here."

Casey nodded and followed him with his eyes.

He sighed and went to make himself a cup of coffee, not thrilled at the idea of spending part of the day alone.

He muttered to himself, "It's your fault. You're too much of a coward to set foot outside the TVA. You only have yourself to blame."

"Then get out of your fishbowl and see some of the world." 

"See some of the world? Look at me Loki, I'm just a pen pusher, I'm nothing like you heroes who get to save the universe or the multiverse for what I know." 

His recent conversation with Loki came back to him.

That's right, he was just a paper pusher.

The one that doesn't stand out.

The fish that didn't have an aquarium, just a little fishbowl in which he turned in circles and of which he knew every nook and cranny, every little stone.

He was interrupted in his reflections when two knocks were heard at the door.

"Come in!"

Loki entered and came with big steps towards him and took Casey in his arms without warning.

Wow ! Two hugs from Loki in less than 24 hours, Cas wasn't going to recover.

Loki released him and said sheepishly, "I'm so sorry."

Casey shook his head and patted his arm, "I assure you, it's all good."

Loki scrutinized him for a few seconds and seemingly satisfied with what he saw, he nodded.

Then he called, "Prez, let's go!"

"I'm here." came a voice from behind Casey who turned around and had to restrain himself from drooling.

Prez was just gorgeous. 

He was wearing a pair of tight black jeans that showed off his... well... assets, a light gray henley and added to that, his freshly washed hair that fell in a halo around his face. The whole picture was breathtaking.

Casey forced himself to look away and turned to Loki who was watching him with a knowing look.

Casey muttered challengingly, "What?"

Loki smiled and shrugged, "Nothing." then turning to Prez, "Shall we go?"

Prez nodded, and followed Loki as he headed for the door, when Casey stopped them, "Loki, wait! Have you thought about the money for Prez, you know, the compensation payments."

Loki replied, "Oh! You do well to remind me." He reached into his pocket and handed Prez a card, "Here, this is the card from your account at the TVA bank. It's got money on it and even though it's nowhere near the damage, it'll keep you going long enough to move on, I know that it's not enough and-"

"Loki, it's okay." replied Prez, "You don't have to justify anything to me, I'm actually pretty satisfied with my fate." 

He glanced at Casey, grabbed the card, put it in his pocket and headed for the door.

Loki whispered without sound to Casey, "You heard him, he's pretty satisfied with his fate hmmm."

"Yes, yes, Loki, go away now," Casey replied as he rolled his eyes and pushed him toward the door.

Prez intervened, "Come on Loki, leave him alone now!"

"Hey, he was my friend before he became yours!"

Casey watched the two Loki's bicker, envious.

"Then get out of your fishbowl and see some of the world." 

But what if I didn't want to go back into the fishbowl afterwards?

Haven't you already stepped out of it by welcoming Prez into your home?

He looked behind him, at his apartment, tidy, clean, where everything was in its place and he looked again at the door which was closing on the two gods still talking with animation.

The one who doesn't try, is only wrong once. 

Casey grabbed his jacket, his keys then ran to the door and opened it, shouting, "Wait!"

The two Lokis turned to him and Prez asked, "Did we forget something?"

Casey inhaled deeply and replied, "Yes, me. I'm coming with you."

He walked toward them and as he saw Loki's fond smile and Prez's beaming smile of joy, he figured that whatever happened, he wouldn't be alone. The two gods stepped aside to make room for him between the two of them and Prez exclaimed, "Let's go on an adventure!"

Casey replied, "Buying clothes will be enough to get started."

Loki chuckled and they headed together to where the TVA agents were making the time doors appear.

When they got there, Loki made one appear and Casey looked at it, wary.

Prez moved closer to him and asked with concern, "Are you okay, Casey?"

Casey whispered, "This will be the first time."

Loky just put his hand through the door and tried to reassure his friend, "Look, it does nothing. You just feel a little suction and you don't even have time to catch your breath that you get there. I swear to you. Look."

Loki walked through the door and returned ten seconds later.

"See?"

Casey took a few breaths and walked hesitantly toward the door.

Prez pushed past him, stood right in front of him, and held out his hand, "How about we go through it together?"

Casey didn't answer, just nodded and grasped the outstretched hand.

Eyes lost in Prez's, he barely heard Loki, "Well boys, I'm off, there's a sale and I don't want to miss anything. See you on the other side!"

Prez said softly, coaxing Casey, "Let's go."

Casey replied, still holding his hand, "Ok. Let's go."

They walked through the door together, and after feeling the little suction Loki had mentioned, they were already on the other side, still holding hands. Casey looked up at Prez and was about to thank him when Prez picked him up and lifted him off the ground, "You did it! I'm proud of you!"

"Boys, this may be a private sale, but a little restraint please." teased Loki.

"Idiot!" retorted Casey as Prez put him down and then curious, he asked, "A private sale? What do you mean?"

Loki came over, put his arm around Casey and replied, "Well, my dear Casey, that means for the next few hours it's just us here. I've convinced the store manager as I was waiting for you."

Prez stepped forward and said to Loki, "Thank you."

Loki smiled and, looking at Casey, he retorted, "Even though I'm doing this a little bit for you, I admit I was mostly thinking about Casey, I figured the transition would be a little less difficult with only us. One step at a time."

If Casey still had a bit of resentment towards Loki for his dubious joke, it faded in light of the thoughtfulness he had just shown him.

"How did you convince the store manager then?"

"Prez, I am sorry but you're not going to like it. Earth-1108 worships Croki as a God and the New York of this earth has even erected a monument in his honor. I promised the manager I'd bring Croki to her to do some promotional photos."

Casey gave Prez a sidelong glance wondering how his friend would take it.

Prez looked at his bandaged wrist for a few seconds then shrugged, and said with a wink to Casey, "it's for a good cause, so I can deal with it."

Between Loki's attention and Prez's kindness, Casey figured that finally getting out of the fishbowl wasn't so bad.

"Well, follow me, I'll give you a tour. I know this store like the back of my han"

Casey and Prez rolled their eyes at Loki's antics and followed him down the aisles of the clothing store. 

A few moments later, Loki had left to join Mobius at home, saying he would return to pick them up three hours later.

Casey was sitting on the dressing room benches waiting.

Prez opened the curtain and asked, "What about this one?"

Casey looked at him then shook his head, "No, still not."

"But Cas...this is the fifth one I've tried on, what don't you like?"

"They're all... green."

Prez rolled his eyes in exasperation, "But green is my color! It's the color of the Lokis."

Casey replied with a stubborn look, "That's just it, I thought you wanted to be different. To be you. You chose your name because you liked it. So tell me, did you choose this color because it's the color of Loki or because you like it?"

Those last words stopped Prez from retorting. 

Casey was right.

He thought back to his discussion with Mobius.

"Don't conform to what you think people expect of you." 

He nodded, a little confused because he didn't know what to do now. Casey stood up and walked over to him, "Give me all the tops you've chosen and wait here, okay?"

Prez complied and waited.

A few moments later, Casey returned with arms full of tops of all sorts of colors.

"Casey?"

Casey placed all the clothes on the coat racks in the dressing room then turned to Prez, "These are the tops you had chosen, but in all the colors available, so take your time and make your choice. And don't think about what I'm going to like, but think about what you like and what you feel like wearing, okay?"

Prez shook his head with a fond smile on his lips, "You're really something Casey, you know."

Casey chuckled, "Me? No, I'm just a regular guy." and visibly embarrassed, he pushed Prez into the dressing room, "Come on, go try it all on." and closed the curtain behind him.

Moments later, Prez opened the curtain and was wearing a purple henley, and it was so breathtaking that Casey thought his jaw would drop.

"So, what do you think?" asked Prez, unaware of the reaction he had just provoked.

Casey pulled himself together and asked, "It's more for me to ask you what you think."

"The reason I tried it is because I like it, so now I want to know your opinion."

Casey insisted, "If I tell you I don't like it, will you still buy it?"

Prez sighed, exasperated, "You're annoying me, yes I like it and yes I would buy it anyway, that's it! Happy?"

Casey laughed, "Yes, I'm happy! Because you are making a choice for yourself! And yes, you look great in that top. Um... I mean it looks great on you."

"You both look really cute."

They turned to the person who had just spoken. It was the store manager, an older woman with a sweet smile on her face.

She continued with a dreamy expression, "The way you two bicker, it reminds me of when my husband and I used to do that. Young love is truly a beautiful thing." 

They both looked at her with bemused eyes and Casey replied, "You... you're mistaken," he stammered a little as he felt his cheeks flush, "We're not... a couple..."

The old lady replied sheepishly, "Oh sorry, sorry. I just thought you two were cute together, that's all." 

They both let out a nervous chuckle, reassuring her that all was well until she was out of sight. 

Prez asked, "Why did she think we were dating?"

"How would I know?" replied Casey with a shrug before continuing, "Go on with your try on."

Prez complied and they returned to their bickering during the various clothing fittings.

As they proceeded to the checkout, Casey watched Prez pay, his eyes shining with joy, and when he saw the knowing look on the sales woman's face, he thought to himself that he was really screwed.

"So boys? Are you done?"

Loki had just appeared through the time door and added, "Shall we go?"

Prez stepped forward and held out his hand to Casey, who didn't hesitate to take it. He was aware he had no reason for it as their destination was well known to him. But did he need a reason?

It was Saturday and on Saturday, Casey indulged himself.

Loki watched his two friends pass the time door and looked at the old lady who was glancing at them.

When Casey and Prez had disappeared, she gave Loki a thumbs up and said with a mischievous little smile on her lips, "They don't know it yet, but it's only a matter of time."

Loki rubbed his hands together in satisfaction as he passed the timedoor, happy.

Main Post

#Casey x President Loki #Casey #President Loki #Lokius #Loki #Mobius m mobius #kid loki #alligator loki #croki #Crack Treated Seriously #Crack Relationships #one bed trope #living together #domestic fluff #getting together #enemies to friends to lovers #CasPrez #PreSey #VoteFish #GloriousPisces

[jargonautical]

A spot of research

MAINDER DOESN’T GO looking for trouble, not if he can help it. It’s less effort all round to sit still and wait for it to come to him, as it invariably does once he’s found the right place to be.

His instincts are currently insisting that the right place to be is the office. Something in here, it’s something in here, the subtle itch sings to him. Something in this place is wrong.

He quickly finds several possibilities, perusing the whiteboard propped against the wall. It looks like a conspiracy theorist’s work-in-progress, red threads connecting random scraps of paper and photographs in no discernible pattern.

He’s more entertained by the nonsense on display than he’d care to admit, though. ‘HOARD Qry link between Bronze Age chieftain ?? & shrine votives found nr. Home Farm 1800s’, reads one offering in tiny, looping handwriting on a garish pink sticky note. A thread joins it to a faded sepia postcard showing not the farm but a watermill which - unless he somehow managed to sleep through a century or two - is nothing whatsoever to do with Alfriscombe. He turns the card over, looking for a caption or attribution to confirm his suspicions. Yes, there it is - The Old Mill, Keston, ca. 1850. Not even the right county. He turns it back and nudges it into its former position.

Up above that there’s a snippet of dense text photocopied from a book.

evidence of significant Roman activity but later found to be the result of widespread looting over the following century and a half. This lawless region was finally tamed by the emergence of a local chieftain of possibly Celtic roots, the famed Severin (see also Svenn*, Sweyne**, Sarin***), whose exploits live on in local legends. So many deeds are attributed to Severin that most scholars believe he must be an amalgamation of more than one individual, with the details sadly lost to time. One of Severin’s legends describe him being transformed into a bird on the orders of a witch, presumably as punishment for some slight or injury, though the legend goes on to describe his many acts of mischief while in this form.

Tacked to that, grainy depictions of Norse ravens carved in stone from the British Museum. Close, he heckles silently. Not quite, but close. The silence at his shoulder is a constant reminder of what should be there; Sweyn would have adored this scenario, so much pomposity to puncture and so much potential for mischief, he almost wouldn’t have known where to start.

Choosing a thread at random from there he lands next on a garish school textbook illustration of a Roman legionary, a fearsome snarl on his face and a shortsword raised above his head at a wildly impractical angle. It seems to have no function that he can fathom beyond aesthetics, apparently only there to fill a gap in the display.

Next is something that’s actually relevant, or at least related to the right place.

In the winter of 1442 a dairymaid was discovered sheltering in the church porch, blue with cold and her clothes all in in rags. She swore on the Bible to have been chased by a terrifying imp or demon that mocked her the whole way, pulling her hair and tearing at her clothes. She eventually banished the evil apparition by entering the church yard and laying her hand on the door handle while reciting the Lord’s Prayer.

From there another thread leads to a faded salmon-pink leaflet from the Tourist Information shack. Make a wish on the Alfriscombe Imp! proclaims the chirpy headline, with a cartoon of an aggressively cute demon twirling his arrowhead-tipped tail and sticking out his tongue. The souvenir shops sell Impey keyrings, pot-metal charms and plastic pencil toppers by the dozen during high season, but it’s a line of merchandise he’s always flatly refused to carry. The original carving, leering out from his overgrown niche in the garden of the old Lodge, can only be accessed these days by prior appointment and by kind permission of the current owners - which they almost never give. That doesn’t stop locals and visitors alike from tossing a coin into the fountain on the green, as if there’s some way Impey can detect their mundane desires from a mile and a half away and make them so. The bottom of the basin glitters with many years and many wishes worth of pennies, trapped under the thin steel grid installed by the council; a deterrent to the occasional enterprising soul who decided to wish simply for a pocket full of soaking wet pennies and was willing to act directly to make it a reality.

Mainder completes his baffled circuit by claiming the couch, flipping through the pile of books on the low table next to it.  The offerings here continue the theme of the whiteboard, an eclectic collection designed to entertain rather than to instruct. An ancient issue of Crystals Monthly, the free gemstone sample long gone. Hill Forts Of Britain, a hefty coffee table book that’s mostly hills and precious few forts. Lords Of Mischief Through The Ages, a hardback treatise with a fetching medieval woodcut of Loki looking suitably villainous on the front cover. Incongruous even in this pile, a paperback novel; American Gods. He flips it open and reads a few pages at random before dropping it back with a smile. Window dressing, without a doubt. But who’s behind it?

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

Tawny eyes flick up when the office door bangs open once more and admits Evie carrying yet another stack of folders. Is her entire job simply moving paperwork from one place to another? If he were a cynical man he might wonder if it’s simply a prop, a way to look busy.

He’d be wrong on this occasion. She manages to divest half of her burden working her way down the line of desks, delivering whatever’s required to whoever needs it with a bright smile and a comment for each person. It’s considerably more animation than he’s seen in her so far, and he wonders idly if he might expect a similar greeting. On the face of it they’re colleagues of a sort, aren’t they? At the very least she has to be polite.

Deep down he knows he wants more than just ‘polite’ though. Now he’s seen it happen he discovers he’d quite like to be the recipient of one of those unexpected sunshine smiles. The effect is contagious, the mood in the room brightening with each stop she makes. Part of it, now he comes to consider it, is how much Patterson’s presence damped everyone’s spirits - his own included. That’s not it though, or not wholly. Patterson is certainly tedious but he’s hardly a monster. And yet between his absence and Evie’s presence the whole office seems lighter somehow, the air clearer, even the lighting taking on a warmer tone. Whatever it is that’s jabbing at his subconscious, she has something to do with it.

By the time she passes him she has just one folder remaining. As much as he despises pointless paperwork he almost hopes it has his name on it if it means an interaction. She keeps her hold on it however, heading past him without an acknowledgement and seating herself at the kitchen table. In profile her face is solemn and classical, a funerary angel in pale marble, and he finds himself staring in honest fascination. It’s not that she’s pretty, not in the traditional sense, although a hundred years ago they’d have had her sitting for saints’ portraits with that solemn gaze and enigmatic half-smile. How on earth does she manage to transform that bland mask to bright welcome so effectively? Not that she’s wasting the effort on him right now, but she clearly possesses the ability to charm at will. As one charmer to another, he salutes her skill.

Time to try out the smart coffee machine beside the sink; he can oh-so casually offer to make her a cup while he just so happens to be getting his own, the perfect opening. Intense study of the machine’s many buttons and the nearby rack of colourful pods turns up no option for espresso, but the lightest roast and the smallest cup size might just produce something he can live with.

The device kicks off with a dreadful graunching and grinding, and he mouths a contrite ‘sorry’ when they all look up, startled by the sudden burst of noise. It subsides at last to a bathwater-down-the-drain gurgle, with an unappealing spit-bubble of brown foam expanding out from the nozzle. That doesn’t look right. Is the thing broken?

Chris comes through from the office, retrieving his lunch box from the fridge while continuing a conversation with Aaron.

“I’m just saying though, Crystals Monthly ... why?”

Since Mainder had much the same question, he shifts subtly closer to hear the answer.

“Laying a paper trail, duh.” Aaron says triumphantly. “‘During a desk review of popular literature, the team established several possible avenues of investigation for the next phase …’ And then we get to spend a month in the lab recording how carnelian or whatever it was responds to a range of voltages and frequencies. You never know, one day you might be using technology like this to detect different materials while they’re still buried. Like - this trench only has jasper, that one over there has rubies.”

“That actually might work.” Evie adds, looking up from her folder. “I mean maybe not the tech, but as an academic angle of attack. ‘Expanding on the piezo-electric effect and its significance in lapidarial settings.’, or something like that. You know Patterson wouldn’t question it.”

“He wouldn’t understand it, you mean.” Aaron stage-whispers, and Mainder is startled to hear a raucous and frankly quite filthy laugh from Evie that he wouldn’t have believed could have come from that colourless girl if he hadn’t seen it happen with his own eyes.

The coffee machine buzzes just then, heralding a burst of dark liquid splashing into his waiting cup. Once … twice … and with a metallic death rattle, three times. There. It appears to be done, but he eyes it cautiously for a few seconds before retrieving his prize. 

The tragic quarter-cupful of froth staring back at him is enough to confirm that he’ll need to look further afield for his caffeine fix - blending in is one thing, but there is no way he’s making do with whatever this swill is for the foreseeable future. He pulls a face at his own comically distorted reflection in the scarlet enamel - no classical beauty detected there - and idles his way up the room to place himself in Evie’s line of sight.

If you asked him, he couldn’t tell you what he’s angling for with that manoeuvre; some subtle tell maybe, confirmation that she’s his unlikely nemesis. Catching her eye and exchanging a meaningful glance, making certain she knows that he knows that she knows … honestly, he’d settle for one of her smiles. Anything, any sign that she’s aware of him and open to negotiations.

But he might as well not be there, not the slightest change in her expression or posture suggesting that she’s even interested in his existence. He never used to have to work this hard to gain a lady’s attention. Is he so out of practice? He glances at the imp on the leaflet, its cheery grin mocking his desperation. Make a wish! Well, if he thought for a moment that it would work … but when you’ve lived as long as Mainder, you’ve either worked out how to make something happen, or learned to stop wanting it.

#a chapter at a time #fantasy #fiction #somewhere to be #books #booklr #reading #faerie #storygraph #goodreads

[chloeunitfive]

Sustainable fashion brands:

Ka-Sha, India

"Change by design" is a type of slogan for Karishma Shahani-Khan and her Maharashtra, India-based label, Ka-Sha. Ka-Sha's tale is as much about the craftsmen she works with around the country as it is about the natural, hand-dyed materials and zero-waste design approaches. "We use clothing to celebrate handcraft and artisanal techniques, both new and old," adds Shahani-Khan. Heart to Haat, the label's capsule project, is made completely of abandoned fabrics and clothing intended for garbage, and is inspired by the indigenous idea of recycling, repurposing, and reclaiming." Emily Farrah

Mozh Mozh, Peru

Mozhdeh Matin founded her label in 2015 to "work with local artisans and preserve their techniques," she says. She was inspired by the notion of a circular economy, and her vibrant pieces, dresses, and accessories - fashioned from alpaca, cotton, and wool yarns also indigenous to Peru - have set that wheel in motion. "All artists take inspiration from their surroundings," she said, "and the climate crisis is pushing a lot of us to create inventive ways to become more sustainable." - Marius Marley

Conner Ives, Britain

At least 75% of the materials used in this Central Saint Martins graduate's creations are old, deadstock, or sustainable. "It's always about finding new materials to use and new processes to develop," Ives said. "It's a constant and hungry evolution." The designer, who is from Bedford, New York, claims that residing in England has affected the way he acquires and uses vintage materials. "When I first got to London, I spent most of my time with friends going to charity shops," said Ives. "I so much enjoy the hunt." Christian Allaire's

Morphine, Italy

Morphine is a unique brand-turned-retailer founded in Reggio Emilia, Italy, that sells old designer things - think '90s Comme des Garçons and early-Noughties McQueen - as well as its own repurposed pieces through its Compendium 01: Pazzesca line. "Our process consists in reawakening and reviving products that this industry has produced and forgotten," Morphine project manager Sasha Payton explains. "We produce one-of-a-kind items by customising and reassembling clothing, fabrics and yarns from deadstock and leftovers from across the Italian supply chain." - CA

Vitelli, Italy

Vitelli's manufacturing is entirely comprised of waste from the knitwear industry, much of which would otherwise end up in a landfill. This waste is then utilised to make the label's patented felted material, nicknamed Doomboh, which is then converted into clever, tactile items. "The atelier inside my studio is called Organic Knitting Theatre," explains Vitelli's creator and creative director, Mauro Simionato. "Every day, we gather and create." What is his major source of inspiration? The "music-driven, post-hippie" Italian counterculture movement that sprung up in the late '70s and early '80s around the Cosmic club on the Adriatic Riviera. Vitelli has interpreted this scenario "as a model of how to participate in - and possibly inspire - the current global cosmic scene." - Lieutenant Laird Borrelli-Persson

Juan de La Paz, Bolivia

Juan de La Paz was formed in 2009 by designers Juan Carlos Pereira and Andrés Jordan, who develop their vivid designs in collaboration with craftspeople in Bolivia and Peru. "We learn from the ancestral knowledge of these communities to take care of Mother Earth when making fashion," Pereira goes on to explain. The clothing, the majority of which include the label's distinctive fringing, are created from recycled materials (the range is also made-to-order and zero waste). According to both designers, being Bolivian makes sustainability necessary and clear. "Contemporary Latin American design upcycles, looks for alternative materials, collaborates with indigenous communities and values artisan craftsmanship," Jordan said. - California

Rave Review, Sweden

The path to a responsible future, according to Rave Review's Josephine Bergqvist and Livia Schück, is through the past. The team has always worked with existing materials, which they piece together to create unique sculptures. "These fabrics are so nice to work with - and in a way it feels more 'new' to work this way rather than to redesign existing fashions," Bergqvist said. The designers frequently claim that their work is nostalgic by default since their materials had former lives - but it's how these Swedes filter their work via their own childhood recollections and present interests that has garnered wonderful accolades. - LB-P

Referencing:

Vogue. (2022). 15 Global Brands Bringing Fashion And Sustainability Together. [Online]. British Vogue. Last Updated: 25 January 2022. Available at: https://www.vogue.co.uk/fashion/article/global-sustainable-fashion-brands [Accessed 6 November 2023].