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seikilos-stele · 10 months

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At one time, I was a prolific writer, now I’m a busy commentator who flings an idea now and then when people seek me out. The one thing that did not change in either role was that I could not work on more than two projects at the same time -possibly three-otherwise, they would begin to influence each other. Perhaps I have a limited attention span.

Today, I opened my in-box to no less then ten of your potential projects, and at least four WIP.

That was today. In actuality, I believe that you have about seven WIP that have been active in the last ten days. I want to know a few things about both the ability and the methodology for managing this many projects.

First, I want to note that while all the WIP & finished projects are of the same Fandom, essentially, that is all they have in common. We have potential TV episodes, AU, OC, Angst, Hope, Illness and so forth. No easy bridges for immediate crossovers.

So what is the trick?

Do you keep each fic logged into your head so that you can pick them up at any moment? Do keep the detailed outlines close at hand, so you can review before you begin?

I can imagine that working on one fic my possibly inspire ideas for another WIP, or do all others remain outside your scope when actively writing? Do you ever conflate multiple WIP (bleed characteristics from one fic to another)

Do the 5X a character did this or that always begin as a group concept, or have you ever looked at prompts a say, “Hey! These ideas all share a them” and decide to combine them.

Finally, one of my absolute favorite collections of yours was the NighThrawn fics. At some point you broke them up up. Were they created originally to be a related collection?

I hope I’m not distracting the creative machine, too much!

Ooh!! No worries, I'm not doing anything creative at the moment 😆 I'm annoying my brother by practicing Louis Armstrong songs over his silent films. (Ain't Misbehavin'....fits really well with Sangue Bleu...somehow).

Um, let's see. I'd say that some days a fic really gets you. The long one I just wrote on Sunday, the 18K oneshot about a political prisoner coming home from the war and making friends with an "enemy" kid -- that's the sort of idea that comes at the right time, when you're in just the right mood, and you can breeze through it in just a few hours. It's like the stars align and everything goes perfect.

But most of the time I just really want to write and I like to have a full stable of ideas to choose from. Like, it's easier if you can just pull up a list, scan through it, and pick one. You can write 1K, and then when you get sick of it, you can pick a different idea and keep going. Spit out another 1K, switch ideas, do another...

I don't keep them logged in my head, I 100% forget all about them as soon as I switch to a different fic 💀 The only reason I get anything done is because Google Docs always suggests your most recent documents to you when you open it up in the morning. As soon as it stops suggesting a doc I basically forget about it forever. I definitely need the outlines to refresh my memory, and I've sometimes had to stop working on fics because I wrote my outline down in two different spots and can't find it or remember where I was going. Very bad memory for that stuff.

Hmm, as for conflating multiple WIPs, or ideas bleeding over, definitely yeah. Sometimes a seed will be planted in WIP 1, develop a little in WIP 2, get more interesting in WIP 3, and then become fully realized in WIP 4. To go back to the political prisoner fic, you've seen how that works. It's like:

What if this character was a political prisoner, and he got rescued, and then later he moved back to his hometown and met--

Oh shit BUT WHAT IF that traumatic incident I mentioned in Chapter 2 actually also involved Character B!

OOH and then what if Character A and B were both rescued by C--

Wait a second back to Idea 1, what if B and his wife were there at the end, and they--

OOH WAIT I really want to write that idea with the kid, back in his hometown, let me just--

Hey hang on a second I could totally finish Idea 1

And why have I never addressed A's abandonment issues? I'll mention that right now, in Fic #1, but I really need to add it to Idea #4 and write that as its own oneshot...

And for now, 6/7 are written, so that's not a bad record. I hope to do the last one soon. It was the same with Thrawn fics, you'd be halfway through a oneshot with a set plot when you suddenly think of a cool touch that you'd love to explore more, so you finish that fic and immediately start another one, where you go really in-depth. Or you think, "I would love it if this horrible whumpy trauma happened, but I really can't justify it with this plot. I should construct a whole DIFFERENT plot so I can write this scene!"

Hmm. I don't think I've actually done a 5 Times fic that started out as separate ficlets. I wish I did that more. It would work better. Usually, I come up with the 5 Times title and then wrack my brains trying to contrive six entirely different scenarios that are still interesting to read.

For the NightThrawn fics -- well, I got really into Thrawn/Pellaeon, but I didn't feel totally at ease with their voices and personalities. So I had a word generator spit out 30 prompts for me, and I wrote one quick and easy Thrawn/Pellaeon fic per day for a whole month. A little while later I realized how few NightThrawn fics there were, and it really upset me because NightThrawn was THE pairing for me after reading Thrawn 2017. I was totally flabbergasted that people shipped him with Eli! So I applied the same treatment, I grabbed a list of 15 random words and started writing. 15, not 30, because I had to prioritize a collab with NadiaYar. (Well, I mean, I love writing with Nadia. Any collab with her takes priority over whatever random time-waster I'm fiddling with for fun XD)

I think I originally posted them as separate ficlets -- then changed my mind and re-uploaded them as a single multichapter collection. And changed my mind again, and re-uploaded them all as separate ficlets XD Back then, too, I was always juggling WIPs. I remember the 30-day Prawn ficlets were coming out at the same time as Signal Lost // Contact Regained, so every day I was writing about 1K for Prawn and then racing to SLCR to complete my daily chapter and maintain my posting schedule. That got really frantic toward the end. I had a good head start but I ended up taking a month or two off SLCR entirely before I regained interest and wrote the ending.

OK I think that's all XD Thanks for asking, I'm really glad to see the Asker's Studio is back. It was a really bright moment for the Thrawn fandom imo and you made a lot of fic writers happy with questions like this. Your brand of insightful commentary and questioning isn't common in fandom these days -- and I'm sure it was NEVER "common", but even less so now, as fandom becomes more mainstream. So thanks again, and I can't wait to see who else you asked, and read their answers.

#my asks

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oracleblogger · 1 month

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Thought dumping again LOL.

hey peeps. It’s me, Oracle. Just wanting to dump some of my random thoughts okay.

I would obviously need a blessing but, could I possibly make a Vegans Saturday? Or Sunday? Whichever works. I want to appreciate them too as I’m sort of in my 60s era.

I have a feeling Ellody swears if she’s stressed. Like perhaps during a hugely difficult exam. Then she’s dropping F bombs, S bombs and the word Hell. (Basically how Paul from Petscop would swear LOL.)

Miles discovered a song she liked once. “The Sign” by Ace of Base. Laurie tried getting Miles to stick to 60s stuff, but it was no use.

So far, I’ve been into a couple fandoms. Not sure if you’ve heard of a couple of these:

Interland (Yes, the google game.)

Petscop (Partially.)

Spheriks (that 2002 world cup cartoon.)

TDRR (Full-Time, for now.)

The Hunger Games.

Would animatronic versions of The Vegans and Geniuses work? I’ve been into animatronics as I’m deeply interested in the inner workings and the complicated processes of programming them. Moreover, would mascot suits of them work? Or should it stick to just cosplaying?

You know, now that I think about it, why can’t The Vegans and Geniuses get their own show? Then they truly can have time to develop that way. Moreover, I had a thought they could start a singing quartet. “Brainteezer”

My current favorite WDW hotels are currently Wilderness Lodge and Pop Century. I personally never went to any of these places, but I watch videos. They look cool to me (shruggie.)

I associate The Vegans and Geniuses with lots of things. Here’s just a bit of a list LOL.

The Vegans:

The Songs “I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles), Rockin’ Robin, I’ll Never Find Another You, and Puff, The Magic Dragon.)

A Toco Toucan and a Pine Marten.

The 60s era entirely. You probably can guess why. XD

The Absolute Good in Humans. Such as our willingness to do kind things.

The Geniuses:

The Bert the Turtle PSA (Otherwise known as Duck and Cover)

The Elements Song by Tom Lehrer.

River Otters

The Early 2000s era. Y2K.

The Intelligence in Human Beings. Such as our vast knowledge of Math, Science, ans History.

The Big Bang Theory. Specifically Bernadette and Amy.

One final thought drop that probably will get me cancelled:

In TDRR, is it bad I do not like The Sisters? Part of me just didn’t feel right watching them, and I don’t know why. That, and some parts of the fandom contributed to my disliking of this particular team. Some other teams I ended up disliking were The Dater-Haters, The Best Friends, The Surfers, and The Mom and Daughter. (Notice how they’re partially relationship based?)

On the Contrary, some teams I DID like were:

The Vegans and Geniuses (It’s obvious LOL. They’re tied for first place on my tierlist of TDRR. I also love them for personal reasons, such as how Ellody’s behavior mimics that of mine IRL. I cannot wing things, and I need someone to anchor me down. I also like how The Vegans were possibly a nod to the 60s counterculture, and tried to explore what it would be like to have those kinds of ideals in the ridonculous race in a way… Please correct me if I’m wrong.)

The Police Cadets were fun too. :) I watched The Heat, and I can safely say I appreciate MacArthur and Sanders a whole ton more.

The Ice Dancers were pretty nice villains too! I have an odd love for ice dancing myself, mostly watching it though. But a school field trip to the skating rink helped me appreciate it a ton.

Thank you for reading this all. <3

#total drama ridonculous race #td ellody #td mary #tdrr #why did i make this #td laurie #td miles #ridonculous race #tdi #opinions welcome #asdfghjkl #random thoughts #idk what to tag this as #chatter #unpopular opinion #unpopular take #unpopular thoughts

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qvid-pro-qvo · 3 years

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smile

something soft i thought of during a rewatch (and a little bit of a character study) for a sunday evening. aaron hotchner x gender neutral reader.

word count: 659

rating: e for everyone. no warnings.

You watch Aaron dress.

It’s your own personal morning routine. You’re not an agent, but you rise with one, and so you wake and let yourself linger in bed while he moves around the room with ease on good days, hesitancy on bad. Sometimes you’ll get up, too. Make his coffee. Interrupt with little bits of laughter and kisses and teasing.

Not today.

Today, you just watch.

There’s something meditative about it for you. And when you take the time, you feel like you learn something new about the man you love with your whole chest.

The way he puts on socks and then shoes. The way he always does his best to let you pick his tie. The way he shaves, small precise movements.

But today, you notice something different, as you turn on your side to watch him stand in the mirror.

His badge.

It’s nothing special. You’re sure every agent at the Bureau has one just like it. Something they can scan to get wherever they need to go. It’s the final piece of Aaron’s outfit, something he adjusts with his clever fingers to make sure it lays straight on his lapel.

But his photo. It grins back at you, in the mirror. It’s Aaron from however many years ago, and he’s smiling so big and wide it kind of makes your chest ache. It’s an Aaron who hasn’t lost Haley at all, an Aaron without a son but planning on one, an Aaron with an esquire at the end of his name and a just-added Agent before it.

It’s probably nothing. Probably just the picture that’s always been there. You do your best at your own profiling, though. Watch the way he clips it on at the end, ready to go before he steps out the door. His full suit of armor, badges included. One at the hip, one on the breast. And it feels like something, that the picture smiling up at you still holds so much of the Aaron you know.

Maybe it’s for others. You think about a victim, watching Aaron walk in. Watching his face, stern, no-nonsense, and the way it softens as he asks them questions. Helps them through their hurt. And think that maybe the sight of that smiling face that helps them open up to this agent who’s just trying to stop the person who hurt them. If he smiles like that...

Maybe it’s for him, you muse, watching him leave the bedroom. You end up pulling back the sheets in clothes that are his in name only, to follow him into the kitchen, hug him from behind. Your hand brushes the laminated clip-on.

Maybe it’s a reminder. Not a reminder to do something, but be something. A reminder that he came from something, as all people do, started somewhere. Did not emerge from the womb a fully realized Aaron Hotchner, special supervisory agent, unit chief, communications director, everything.

Maybe it’s a reminder to smile every now and again. Show off those dimples you’re so fond of tracing with your fingers.

“Hey,” you murmur, as you stand by the door. Lean on the door jamb as he grabs his briefcase, a restocked go bag. “I love you.”

When he turns, and smiles, you’re struck by the way that some things never change. Smiles. Dimples. The apples of his cheeks. You reach out to kiss him.

“I love you,” he says, warm and gentle.

And then he turns away again, and you lose sight of his smile. Struck again by the way that some things couldn’t dream of staying the same. Weights on shoulders build and build, pain in eyes that comes back every so often with a glance at Jack, a bit of laughter with Jess.

You’re proud of him. In that moment. And before he leaves for the day, you steal another kiss to tell him just how much, and to see that smile one more time.

tag list: @duchesschameleon // @altsvu // @winterscaptain // @tamarastevie // @ssaic-jareau // @megans-txmblr // @anotherspencerreidblog // @mijop // @1234-angelika // @hurricanejjareau // @writefasttalkevenfaster // @kelstark // @nuvoleincielo // @wanniiieeee // @arianmock13-blog // @averyhotchner // @barbasbodaciousbeard // @xxlovingfandomsxx // @mad-girl-without-a-box // @itsgrishamagic // @joanofarkansass

want to be tagged when i post a new fic? here's the google form!

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #hotch x reader #hotch #gender neutral reader #my fic #criminal minds

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levihan-drabbles · 3 years

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Hey guys !!! I hope everyone in this wonderful fandom is doing amazing <3 Recently, my friend and I have come up with a very interesting and fun event that we're hoping you all would like to participate in. We haven't really seen surprise prompts and drabble weeks for Levihan before, so we decided to make one! Also a very fun contest with cool awards too.

Getting straight to the point, the reason why this event is different from an usual prompt week is because we are only going to be focusing on drabbles here. (And also because the prompts won't be predetermined and given to you beforehand)

(Note: this is also open to artists and other content creators. We will be making another post tomorrow explaining how the event works for them. Till then, the writers can continue)

✒ A drabble is a short work of fiction of precisely one hundred words in length. The purpose of the drabble is brevity, testing the author's ability to express interesting and meaningful ideas in a confined space. (YeS I stole it from google)

As a writer myself, due to the limited word limit, drabbles can be a bit of a struggle sometimes, and that is primarily the reason why this whole event is also somewhat more of a writing practice (other than the fact that we need to get those numbers on AO3 up haha)

Without wasting much time, let's get straight into the details, and how this is really going to work, what are surprise prompts and the contest and its awards of course.

▶ How long are your entries really supposed to be? Well Google says 100 words but that's way too unfair so your fic should be = to or under 1000 words. The maximum you can go up to is 1500.

▶ Are there any certain prompts/themes these drabbles should be on? Yes, and that's what we are going to talk about next.

▶ And what are surprise prompts? Okay so remember back when in school, your annoying math teacher would take a surprise quiz out of nowhere without informing you? Yeah something like that but its not that bad. Also, its a lot more fun than math.

Basically your prompts will be given to you a day before you need to post them. so its really just a writing practice and there is no pressure, so don't think about the quality or something. This is about scribbling down something quick without a lot of planning.

The prompts are also going to be chosen from an OTP prompt generator, so they are going to be uhm interesting and fun to work.

We have a theme for each day (like angst, fluff etc) and the mods will choose 4 random prompts beforehand for each of these days. At the time of giving the prompts to the participants, we will run a machine to choose one randomly out of the 4. So even the mods don't know what the actual prompt is going to be for the day.

The themes for each day (except Wednesdays and Thursdays, we will get to them later)

Angst Mondays

Trope Tuesdays

Fluff Fridays

Comic Saturdays (this is for the artists, so you can ignore it)

Smut Sundays

Now, here's the challenge (and probably my favorite part about the event) -- The prompts you get are not exclusively going to be in accordance with the themes for each day.

For example, you can definitely get this for Angst Mondays :

Prompt : "Levi having to rescue Hange from a pack of kittens/puppies."

Now its up to you, with the power of levihan on your side, to write an angsty drabble based on this prompt, (okay fine, the prompts probably won't be this off bat but still)

**Exception, : for trope Tuesdays, you won't be getting a prompt but a particular trope like (enemies to lovers, protective levi, caring hange etc)

▶ What time will you exactly get the prompt then? So basically, if Levihan drabble week begins on Tuesday, 25th May, you will getting your trope (prompt for the other days) around Monday afternoon-ish. And you are allowed to post until Tuesday midnight, before Wednesday begins. (Wednesday and Thursday are contest days which we will talk about later, so you don't have to worry about getting another prompt on Tuesday and finishing it on Wednesday itself)

▶How will you get your prompt? And any other details? We'll be making another post later where we will dive deep into the timezone specifics and how you will get the prompt, and what you will tag your posts with so we can see your stuff and reblog it.

You will get the prompt for fluff Friday around Thursday afternoon, and then the writers will have a break as Saturday is for artists. Friday night, you will get the prompt for smut Sunday you will have Saturday as a break in between before posting your smut on Sunday.

The same formula applies to angst Mondays.

1st June, Tuesday, last day of the week will be the prize day. We are gonna talk about the prize day in the next section.

Wednesday and Thursdays (The contest days)

So, first of all, this is optional. If you are participating in the rest of the drabble week, its okay if you leave to opt out of the contest. Similarly, you can also just participate in the contest and not do the other days. It's up to you.

The people participating in the contest would be divided into two groups. There are going to be two winners.

Suppose we have group 1 and group 2, a random participant from each group will be chosen. This chosen participant is called the selector. Its purely luck and a machine that chooses the selector. The selector gets to choose a prompt (from a list the mods will give them) Suppose the said selector is from group 1, then the prompt they chose will be given to group two, and everyone in group two have to write on that. The selector from group two will do the same thing for group 1 members.

All of the preparation for the contest will be done beforehand, and the selectors will be informed before the week begins. The selected prompts will be given to both groups Tuesday night. By Thursday evening their works should be posted.

The word limit for Contest Drabbles can be extended to 3000 words. This is ONLY for the contest.

After all works are submitted by Thursday evening, there will be a voting period which will stretch till 1st June, Tuesday. During this period, group 1 will read group 2's stuff, and group 2 will do the same for group 1. Then they will vote for their favorite fics accordingly, the fic with the maximum votes from both groups wins. The mods will be supervising this, and reading the stuff too.

▶How do we vote? All the details related to voting will also be explained in a different post.

▶What are the awards? Okay, so one thing unique about drabble week is that there are going to be no permanent mods. We will probably have these events rather frequently, and the mods will change for each event. The mods will decide the awards so different awards for different months.

This month, the gifts are :

Well detailed and long comments on 2 chapters of a fic of your choice. These can also be two different one shots if you want.

Beta reading for a few (3-4 chapters) for any fic the winner wants (the other details can be discussed in dms)

The winners will have the opportunity/chance to become mods for the next week, next month. This is also a great way to make new friends and work with them while holding an event!

To participate, PLEASE FILL OUT THIS FORM. The last date to fill in is 20th May, so do it before that. We'll be making another post for the artists soon, posting it tomorrow most likely. You will be constantly updated, so don't worry!

if anyone has any questions, feel free to ask. Thank you so much, we will be looking forward for your participation! Much love.

#levihan #aot #snk #levi x hange #levi x hanji #levi ackerman #hanji zoe #hange zoe #drabbleweekMAY'21

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unnuevosoltransformalarealidad · 3 years

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New York

Summary: You’ve planned a holiday with your best friend but an unfortunate (and nasty) cold changed the plans Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader Square: New York for Tell Me A Story Bingo of @supernatural-jackles Warnings: Cold, fever, coughing, sick!reader, ruined vacations, Jensen is the perfect best friend, vomiting (mention) Word Count: 1372 A/N: Part of this story is based on real-life experiences. I’ve never been to New York so anything informed here may not be accurate. All of it was found on Google.

You've been planning this vacation for the past six months. You've been dreaming to travel to New York your whole life, but between school, then college, then adulting, basically it was impossible for you to do it; it was a dream you’ve never accomplished.

You were going to meet with Jensen, your best friend in Texas and from there you two were going to travel to New York. Jensen was doing this as a gift for you, mostly because he wanted you to let out all the stress you’ve been gaining in the past months. You were planning to leave at the beginning of April because your holidays were 14 days long and you weren’t going to lose any day without exploring New York. You were really excited about this trip. You’ve been waiting for it for a long time, it was a matter of time until you could see your dream came true. You met with Jensen in Texas a few days before leaving, there were a few things he needed to finish and you still had an important job interview you needed to attend to. You packed the things you had left there the last time you visited him, double-checking everything was packed before closing the suitcase. The plan was to get checked in at the hotel before Monday morning due to your interview.

The flight from Texas to New York City was five hours, not too long but neither too short. Jensen and you decided it was best to travel over the weekend, arriving in New York City on a Sunday afternoon. You were exhausted after the trip, your body felt like you’ve been traveling for 24 hours instead of five. As soon as you got in your shared room with Jensen, you went directly to the bed and slumped in it. -Tired, sweetheart? -Give me five minutes and I’ll be fine — you said rolling on the bed -Let’s stay in and order room service. Just relax for a bit — Jensen offered you -You sure? — he nodded -Go shower, it’ll help you. -Thanks, Jens — you said and left to shower.

The following day, you woke up early and extremely tired. You were too anxious to sleep, to keep yourself together. You ended up getting just a few hours of sleep and getting up way too early for your liking. A few hours later, Jensen woke up too. -Already up? Someone is excited — he joked -Couldn’t sleep, too anxious — you explained biting your nails -You’ll be fine, don’t worry — he kissed your forehead before going to shower

Once the meeting was over, Jensen and you went out to have breakfast. You were less anxious than earlier, but still, your body was processing it. Jensen noticed it, so he tried to keep your mind distracted to help you. -So, how was the meeting? — he asked curiously -I think it went pretty well, they wanted to know my language level and if I was able to engage in a conversation — you explained — now, I’ll have to wait -I’m sure you did amazing -I hope so After breakfast, Jensen took you to Central Park. You were in love, that place was everything you’ve dreamed of. It was beyond amazing. The rest of the day you went sightseeing and meeting “touristic places”. You were grateful Jensen took you on this vacation, you were starting to relax, and was just day one. That night you went to Broadway, not to watch any play but to meet the place. The night was cold so you went back to your hotel early Back at your hotel room, you showered, put on your pjs, and went to sleep. The first night went lovely, you were excited about what was about to come. You didn’t have much planned what you were going to do, but you knew you were ready to enjoy it.

The next day, you woke up shivering and your bedsheets were drenched, that wasn’t a good sign. You showered again and went to sleep again. Luckily, you were sleeping alone because Jensen wouldn’t have let you hear the end of this. When you woke up again, Jensen was already up and finishing getting ready, unlike you, you had a growing headache, your nose was running and your throat was starting to ache. You knew it was a matter of time until you ended up sick -Hey, you’re up. I was about to wake you — he said -I’ll be ready in five — you said and he looked at you -Are you feeling okay? -Yeah, it’s just an allergy, must be the weather changes. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine — you said going to the bathroom. Just as you were exiting the bathroom you had a sneezing fit, you could feel Jensen’s worried look. -You sure are okay? — he asked you handing you a tissue -Yes, Jens. Like I said, allergy season You left for breakfast and then you were going to walk around Times Square and have some lunch there. Since you ended breakfast, went to Times Square, and then having lunch you started to feel a lot worse. Your headache became a pounding headache where the sunlight bothered you making you sneeze every time it hit your face. Your throat was raspy and dry, hurting enough every time you talked. You could see the way Jensen looked at you every time you sneezed or when the sun hit you on the face, you knew he was worried about you. -Let’s head back to the hotel and we can come back at night -Can we go to the Rockefeller Center? — you asked him -We can do that, sweetheart. Let’s go back to the hotel so we can change to warm clothing and then we head there, ok? — you simply smiled and nodded You knew what he was doing, and to be honest with yourself, you just wanted to lay down. Your body was starting to ache.

When you arrived at the hotel, Jensen offered you to shower first, which you gladly accepted. You made sure to put the water as hot as your skin could resist, you needed to relax your sore muscles to keep going on the rest of the day.] When you finished and left the bathroom, you were shivering, you thought it was because the room was a lot cooler than the bathroom. You put on some comfy clothes and laid on your bed to watch some tv until Jensen finished. You hadn’t realized you’d fallen asleep if it wasn’t for Jensen waking you up -Sweetheart, you ok? -Mhm? — you were confused, your felt like your head was going to explode -You are shivering and you were whimpering You tried to sit up when a wave of nausea hit you and you were running to the bathroom. Jensen was right next to you holding your hair and drawing soothing circles on your back. When you finished, he handed you a glass of water and flushed the toilet. He helped you to get up and brush your teeth. Then he carried you bridal style to your bed again. He laid you there and went back to the bathroom, coming back a minute later with a thermometer in hand. After some minutes, the thermometer beeped and read 101. If you wouldn’t have come back, you definitely were going to be a lot worse. -Honey, why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling fine? -I told you, it’s allergy season. Plus the jet lag and the trip and everything else. It was going to happen — you explained You knew that fighting with Jensen to continue this journey was useless, so you let him take care of you. Jensen and you ended up coming back to Texas just after spending three days in New York. The rest of your break, you spend it with Jensen at his house taking care of you.

Even though it wasn’t as you had planned to spend your holidays, you were with Jensen and that was a lot more than you could’ve asked. He was amazing and you were grateful to have him in your life.

Tag List (is open, you can ask to be added)

#Tell me a story bingo #jensen ackles x reader #Jensen x You #jensen ackles x you #jensen x reader #jensen x y/n #jensen ackels fanfic #supernatural rpf

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zerotoxicdragon · 3 years

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Decide doing Translation this fanfic from ao3

https://href.li/?https://archiveofourown.org/works/30040782

Some are mistake because google translation can be wrong…

False proposals remain proposals

— Grrr... That fucking KID! I swear next time I'm gonna put my hands on him and finally put him behind bars!

The few policemen who made the bad decision to accompany Inspector Nakamori on his way out to the bar had no choice but to increasingly seclude themselves in their seats in the face of the shouts of their superior. The only person present who seemed unfazed by the din of the man was nothing more or less than the one who organized this small event: the private detective himself Kogoro Mouri, who under the pretext of "it's your birthday" could convince the inspector and some poor devils of the squad to accompany him to one of his favorite bars in the city. Rather the only one who did not need to be convinced was Nakamori. The poor man was so stressed that he had not caught the famous thief in his last robbery two days ago that at the first moment he was offered a jug of alcohol he had already halved it.

- Sure, sure! the culprit interrupted him from his meeting, passing his arm through the neck of the birthday boy. You can worry about that thief another day, tonight is a night to drink!

While the only thing Kogoro was most likely looking for was a mate to get drunk, the officers said the peers couldn't help but think there was something more hidden beneath that "working friends" facade. The detective did not bother to respect the inspector's personal space, not only hugging him with one arm but also giving soft touches whenever he recounted something or a light jolt when the man appeared to stop responding briefly. For someone like Nakamori who considered their space very important... this acting just left them dumbfounded.

Now that you thought about it, haven't you been acting a little close lately?

"Ah, Kogoro..." Nakamori spoke, drunk enough not to remember his companion's last name but sober enough to remember

The detective just mumbled a weak "huh?" before looking at his watch on his wrist. He had to blink a couple of times to stop seeing cloudy and concentrate on the device needles, 1 PM? No, that was-

"One in the morning?" exclaimed suddenly, the adrenaline rush getting him a little drunk. Ran's gonna kill me if I come back so late!

Ran...? the inspector mumbled in confusion before connecting the pieces. Ran was his daughter. He also had a daughter who was probably waiting for him at home. Damn it, Aoko's probably in a rage...

The young cops just felt sorry for them. Like the young people they were, they could still stay at the bar for an extra hour. They did not want to go home, otherwise they would have offered to accompany either man to their homes.

"I'd better take a taxi," Kogoro quickly took his things and prepared to leave, before being stopped by Nakamori.

— Ah, Kogoro, we have to go in the same direction, do you think we could share that taxi?

"I don't see why not," he nodded. Let's go have one on the street, Ginzo.

The officers watched as the two men marched in step, Kogoro again playing his inspector by guiding him with one hand on his back.

Between the three of them looked at each other.

"Hey, don't you think...

— ...it will be possible...

— ...that remotely...

— ...Our inspector and Sleeping Kogoro are dating?

No one at the station seemed surprised to see Nakamori holed up in his office dealing with a powerful hangover. From the moment he entered the building with a face indicating that he was more eager to stay in his bed sleeping than to listen to the complaints of his superior, there was no person in the precinct who wanted to approach because of the fear of irritating him.

A small group of officers had gathered just outside his office, whispering to each other what appeared to be the latest new news from the precinct. The superintendent of Shintaro Chaki, well known for being almost always in a bad mood, was already fed up with his subordinates spending more time chatting like old gossips than concentrating on their daily chores; so he took the opportunity to appear behind the group to repress them.

— What is happening here? asked, very upset about the situation.

"Ah, superintendent! exclaimed the quartet of police among surprised and scared. We were just sharing the news with everyone.

— News? What news?

- You don't know? Inspector Nakamori and Sleeping Kogoro are dating! They are so close that they are even called by their names without honorees.

Of all the gossip I could have heard, the fact that Nakamori had gotten a new partner after so many years was really down the list.

"Oh, oh, oh, my head..."

Inside the Mouri detective agency, Conan watched something amusing as Kogoro bemoaned his hangover lying on his desk. The poor man found himself half-disheveled and with his suit badly worn and wrinkled, he was still wearing the same one from the night before.

"You're an amazing dad." Ran was still quarreling with his father, just as he had barely managed to set foot inside the house. First you're going to drink leaving us alone with Inspector Megure, then I stay up late waiting for you to come back and finally you decide to come back almost noon without even leaving a message on the phone or answering machine!

Yes, Kogoro loved his daughter very much, but the only thing he didn't need at the time was someone yelling at him in the ear at full volume.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she murmured as she massaged her temple. But I told you I don't remember anything from last night! I woke up an hour ago at a motel and I came straight here... I think my self yesterday was drunk enough not to remember where he lived and decided to sleep on the road.

The truth is that waking up there was a rather strange event. Few, very few, were the times when Kogoro did not remember how he had come home after having taken until he almost lost consciousness, but even on those occasions he always dawned in his comfortable bed. That's why it was so rare to have woken up in a motel relatively far from the agency, completely naked and also on the floor for having fallen out of a double bed. Worst of all, his body hurt. Moving, walking, anything was uncomfortable. And even if he was in his forties, there was no reason why Kogoro should feel sore after he had taken it.

"When I went to the front desk trying to pay for the room, the employee told me that I had nothing to worry about, that everything was paid for," she sighed. I wonder if anyone decided to guide me to a motel because he couldn't remember my address... he even bothered to fix everything.

Ran went on to berate his father, who simply tried to sink deeper and deeper into his desk to avoid feeling how every word drilled into his head. He almost breathed a sigh of relief when the agency's phone rang and, even if he was not in a position to take any cases, he immediately attended to escape even if it was an instant from his daughter.

— Detective Bureau Mouri, how can I help?

— Mouri-kun! a lively voice answered from the other side. I thought we were friends! I can't believe you didn't tell me something like this.

- Huh? answered in confusion. What the hell was Megure talking about? What was I supposed to tell you?

- Don't play dumb! -Inspector Megure's shout was so loud that even Ran and Conan across the room were able to hear it. How do you think I felt when I found out that one of my closest friends had started dating someone and he wasn't the one who told me?!

For one, two, three seconds.

"HUH?"

Ran had taken Conan to primary school and she was attending her own classes, so Kogoro was now alone at the agency. In theory he was to find himself alone, because in front of him, with his arms crossed and his frown frowned upon, a very annoying Ginzo Nakamori walked from side to side as if going from wall to wall would provide the solution to the problem in which they were.

"Then..." Kogoro began, making Nakamori stop for a moment to pay attention. Everyone in the police force believes that for some reason we are a couple.

"For any reason?" As I heard in the precinct, you couldn't keep your hands still! cried the inspector. Now my superior, Superintendent Chaki, wants me to take my "new partner" to lunch with him and his wife this Sunday!

Mouri snuck into his seat, looking to hide as much as possible from the elder's screams.

- W-but- why did you accept his invitation?

"I had a terrible hangover thanks to your departure last night! I could hardly tell what he was talking to me, I saw myself with no choice but to nod to everything he said. How do you expect that hours after I confirmed to my superior that I was dating, I would simply tell him that I didn't hear him for having the worst hangover of my life? Don't you know how unprofessional that is? I could be suspended!

The detective sighed. They were really in a difficult situation.

- Now what Inspector Megure said makes sense...said he.

"Huh?" What did Inspector Megure say?

- Ah! Well... apparently first he heard the rumors going around your division... And this morning I got a call from him saying that he happened to have to come early to the station and went by the Beika Motel, where he saw you come out first and within minutes of me from the place—he admitted something sad.

For a few seconds they both kept quiet.

But when I woke up in that room I was alone...

"Of course not!" I was just lying on the floor, probably because I fell somewhere in the night. That's why when you woke up you thought you were alone, you couldn't see me on the other side of the bed. Surely I woke up to the sound of the door when you left.

With a whimper of frustration, Nakamori dropped into one of the agency's sofas, too exhausted to think of all the problems that did nothing but pile up.

Everybody thinks we're dating, right? asked Kogoro, to which the eldest nodded. Then why don't we just go play along?

- Play along?

- You know! We had lunch with the superintendent and his wife over the weekend, pretended to keep going out for a couple more days and then we were done! Superintendent Chaki won't know you lied to him, Inspector Megure will continue to trust me, and the other officers will have something else to whisper about for the next two weeks.

Nakamori's first impression was to think that his companion had simply lost his mind. But the more he thought about his options, the only thing he saw possible was what Kogoro was saying. That showed how bad his situation was.

- Good! he resigned himself. On one condition. This will end as soon as possible after that damn lunch.

"Of course I do!" But I too must accept under one condition.

- But you were the one with the idea! Why should you demand something?

— But this must be beneficial to me too! "a sly smile was present on the detective's face." For all of us, we're just going out but there's nothing official yet, so... I want a great public proposal that can become a viral sensation! As today's young people would say: "Do it big or go home."

Nakamori was completely dumbfounded.

"Are you crazy?" Of course not! he growled. We don't have twenty years to do these things! Besides, why would someone like you care about something like that?

"Because," he interrupted, "you just have to think about this for a moment!" The fact that famous detective Mouri Kogoro starts dating one of Tokyo's most prestigious inspectors will be the most important news of the whole month! The public loves gossip," he continued. And, above all, gossip brings fame to those involved. My popularity will grow to the clouds!

For some reason, he wasn't surprised that someone like Kogoro had such a reason to stick with the plan.

— Also when we announce our separation, my mail will be filled with letters from nice girls who want to comfort me! In all those TV scandals it's always the fans who give support to their idols. I could even get an email from my dear Yoko-chan!

There was no choice but to accept.

Surprisingly, Ginzo's confession was a viral hit.

With the help of his daughter Aoko (who was more than happy to be able to participate in something like this) and his friend Kaito, the man managed to film a video in which, laden with gifts, flowers and alcohol, he appeared at the Mouri agency to declare his infinite love for the detective and how much he needed it.

By next morning all of Japan's newscasts were talking about the new Tokyo couple and how popular the two men had become.

Kogoro kept receiving letters from fans congratulating him on their relationship and a few of his love disappointments. Nakamori, meanwhile, was assisted by the detective to have lunch with Superintendent Chaki later that weekend. The man looked strangely happy during the event, even though at work he spent almost the whole day in bad temper it was clear he was quite sensitive to any love-related issue. He could even remember his words in firing the lovebirds in the afternoon: "I'm glad to know you can finally get by. I'm sure Mrs. Nakamori would agree that they make a beautiful couple."

Maybe that's why it was so hard to end that fake relationship after that. It just didn't feel right to do so soon.

The first few weeks Kogoro had taken the trouble to visit Nakamori when there was no customer to keep the farce and keep giving the impression of not-so-young lovers. At least that was his excuse at first, since one day he suddenly realized that the real reason for his visits was to spend as much time as possible with the inspector. More than staying home and watching some Yoko show, he longed more to travel to the police station and simply chat with his "partner" or accompany him until the moment he went home or had a beer at a nearby bar. Far from bothering him, Ginzo gradually began to appreciate every appearance of the detective in his precinct, even becoming disillusioned when he had no news of him for a whole day.

Within a month, when it was already quite safe to announce its breakup, another problem became present. And rather than being frustrated that they couldn't finish everything, deep down they were relieved.

"On the day of the sun, just as Artemis is at the highest point, I am going to take the jewel that is so jealously guarded in the heart of the city.

PD: I send a rose next to this notice to congratulate the inspector on his new relationship and to wish them well. I hope you both can attend my show to receive a surprise worthy of your love.

-Kaitou KID"

Kaitou KID's notices could not be kept secret for long, so just twelve hours after the police received it all the major Japanese media already announced the theft of the famous thief at the same time they used to revive the news of their romance and how they received blessings even from someone like KID. If they broke up now, they were only going to look bad.

The agreement was to wait a while longer after the robbery, until most had forgotten the subject and surprised them with the news of the separation.

But of course, nothing came out as they expected.

Boy, that white-gloved fucking thief had kept his word.

Kogoro ended up accompanying Nakamori to the Beika museum to protect the jewel and, even if he did not finish accepting it, because it had already become a custom for him to see his "partner" work. For some reason he loved to see how the man could control his squad with ease, admired the dedication he put to his work and really left a warm feeling in his chest when in his evening talks drinking at a Nakamori bar he confessed to him that there were few things he loved as much as his work. As promised, Kaitou KID showed up at midnight and stole the jewel in front of the entire police squad and mocking all the security measures taken. At the time of his escape, the thief activated a device that covered the museum's entire main room of confetti and colored papers, raining down even different types of colorful flowers. A bouquet of red roses fell right in front of the inspector, accompanied by a caption reading: "I wish you happiness." and signed by the typical KID cartoon stamp.

And, far from everyone forgetting their relationship, that event only served to make Japanese people want to know more about them and their personal lives. On several occasions the poor men had to deal with reporters and journalists who went to look for them at work or their home in an attempt to get an exclusive interview with one of the two most popular men of the moment. Of course Ginzo, being the professional he was, was always looking for an excuse to politely refuse and get rid of the annoying journalists.

Instead Kogoro...

"Why the hell did you agree to do that interview?" the inspector roared, whipping both hands hard at the desk where Kogoro worked.

- She was a very pretty girl! How could I refuse to receive it? he replied fearfully, aware at the time that perhaps giving an exclusive would not have been the best idea.

"But now all of Japan thinks we're getting married!"

Maybe during the interview the lie got out of hand...

- Sorry, sorry! he apologized over and over again.

Ginzo sighed. Now there was no chance of ending the farce and not being left as the biggest con artists in the whole country. He watched Kogoro give his speech about how he regretted talking to that girl, but he didn't really pay attention to what he was saying. For a few moments he let his mind wander.

Was this fake relationship worth breaking up?

Even if he was the one who was against the idea at first, at that moment the continuation with the detective didn't sound so bad. It could be a little loose, alcoholic, lazy, lazy... several of those were synonymous, right? But by interacting more personally with him over the last few months he had managed to see it in a new light. Aside from his daughter and a few co-workers, Nakamori now longed for someone else's company. Suddenly all the moments with Kogoro stopped being a nuisance to become something I was looking forward to. The subtle displays of public affection had ceased to be embarrassing to feel more special. And the congratulations they received at some point began to leave a warm feeling in his chest.

Would it be possible that...

Kogoro was shocked to receive a kiss on the lips, shutting his monolog instantly and covering his face with such intense red that anyone could mistake him for a tomato. Within seconds Ginzo parted, also blushing and breathing somewhat agitatedly.

- I'm withdrawing my condition. I don't want this deal to end anymore.

The detective still didn't know what to say, barely able to process what had just happened.

All I knew was that I agreed with the inspector.

— Do those journalists want a wedding? Then let's give her the best wedding in the whole region.

Before he could even give an affirmative, Nakamori had jumped at him again. And far from putting him away, the game followed.

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generalfoolish · 3 years

Text

Feel The Heat

Part Two: Something More

Pairing: Frankie Morales x OC Juniper Collins

Rating: 18+ (b/c minors shouldn't lurk, it is illegal and not polite.) But this is big fluff, just more exposition and pining and world building. I do curse, so there's that.

Word Count: 4k+

Summary: June and Frankie are big idiots, and they keep bumping into each other in the wildest of places. Again, and I can't overstate this: they’re both MASSIVE idiots.

A/N: Hey babes! This is going a little slower bc I want to give more with each update, I normally keep around 1K and these are little beasts. But I'm excited with the story, some threads are exposing themselves, and there will be more Frankie X OC time in the next part. For now, enjoy this little taste of yearning and pining and overthinking and general angst over meeting a cute new somebody. 💕

Masterlist | Part One | Part Three

June checked her phone as she stirred the pot, and groaned at the email count. More than half were parents who “couldn’t” make the conference, and the rest were from her principal wanting to reiterate the importance of those meetings. She dropped the phone back to the counter, and focused on her pot. She had googled what to do with Brandywines, and had decided on a slowly simmered tomato sauce. It paired beautifully with the fresh garlic and basil she had picked up, and the whole house smelled like an Italian restaurant.

This was her favorite way to use up produce in the summer. She spent hours simmering and canning, and got to enjoy the fruits of her labor in the dead of winter. She knew she could easily gift the sauce made from those beautiful tomatoes, and she had every intention of doing so.

Sundays passed so quickly, she hardly had time to dwell on the farmer, but when she caught a whiff of her stove she had to find something to do. She worked through the emails, sending reminders that the conferences were mandatory, and that if the parents couldn’t make it during the week before or after school, she was available to meet online. She fought the temptation to open her weekends. She was working on work boundaries with her therapist.

June had an easier time fighting off thoughts of the farmer as the day waned on, and she thought, foolishly, that she could just forget the brown eyed grump she had met.

Frankie was having a hard time focusing on anything. Liv was a bundle of energy, and he tried not to snap at her. He had her come help him in the garden, but he ended up sending her to dig for worms after she trampled another vine.

“Ew! Worms are gross.” She argued.

“I know, but didn’t you want to go fishing? Fish eat worms, it’s how we can get them out of the water.” He explained, carefully. She considered him, then bounded off, calling out to the worms. He chuckled watching her, and went back to pulling weeds. With a moment of quiet, his mind flitted back to the woman. He couldn’t help it. He had dreamt of her. She was lounging in the back of his mind, waiting for him to stumble into the memory. Liv was a good distraction, but she only held the woman at bay for so long. He grumbled and wiped his brow. He decided to give it up for now, the woman and the weeding.

“Princess, I think we have some hotdogs. Let’s try those.” He called over to Liv, who excitedly left behind her freshly dug hole.

“Daddy, Mrs. Becka wanted me to remind you about the school stuff.” Liv told him, grabbing his hand as they walked. He exhaled sharply. He had forgotten the meetings. He pulled his phone from his pocket and scrolled through Becka’s texts. She had sent him the teacher’s number at some point, he knew, the trouble was finding it. Finally, he clicked the blue hyper-linked number and called it. Liv ran inside ahead of him, looking for the hot dogs, and he waited at the door as the phone rang.

“Hello?” Ms. Collins answered breathlessly, and he cleared his throat.

“Ms. Collins? It’s Olivia Morales’ dad, calling about the meeting?” He heard something clatter on the other end. “Is now an okay time?”

“Yes, sorry, Mr. Morales, I was just...it doesn’t matter. My schedule is a little tight, when did you have in mind?”

“Something early, maybe before drop-off?”

“Sure, uhm, let me check my calendar,” She sounded distant, he thought, probably on speaker. “Yeah, Tuesday morning? I know that’s quick, it is all I have though.”

“Yeah, I can be there. Like 7am?”

“Yes, that’s great. See you then.” The line disconnected and he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d heard her voice before. He rolled his eyes at himself, of course he had. She was his daughter’s teacher. As if on cue, Liv ran out with a hot dog. He smiled brightly and ruffled her hair.

“‘Kay, kiddo, let’s go catch some fish.” She grinned at him brightly, showing off the hole her first lost tooth had made. His heart caught as he realized she was growing up so fast.

“Monday’s really are the worst.” June laughed. She had her mom on the phone, connected through Bluetooth. “I’m just leaving the school now!”

“I just don’t see why you’re having to set these meetings up now. The kids have hardly been in school for a couple of weeks.” June sighed as she merged on the highway to head home.

“I know, it's just something my district does. The hard part is wrangling parents.”

“Well, if you had any children, you’d know how much they require of you.” June rolled her eyes and exhaled through her nose. Her mom was always quick to bring up her lack of a partner and children. Not that June didn’t want those things, they just haven't panned out for her yet.

“Yeah, Mom, I’m sure you’re right.” She acquiesced, knowing the argument wasn’t worth the effort.

“Have you met anyone? You’re only getting older, you know.”

“Thanks Mom. Uh, I have a date tomorrow night, actually.”

“Well, what’s his name, do I know him? What does he do for work?” June rolled her eyes, and wondered why she had answered the call.

“I don’t know anything about him. It’s a blind date.”

“Not even a name?” June bit her lip, debating telling her Mom the nickname.

“He’s ex-Army, goes by Fish. That’s all I know. Oh, and he’s single. A new teacher sat it up for me.” June explained, hoping her Mom wouldn’t have much to say.

“Fish? Oh, wow. Terrence really messed you up, huh.”

“I’m getting a call from a parent, I’ll talk to you later.” June lied, ending the call. Terrence had really messed her up. Not that that was of any importance to her dating life, or this blind date’s name. She sighed hard as she pulled into her driveway.

“Monday’s really are the worst.” She told the empty space of her car. She grabbed her bag and hurried inside. It had been a long day, and she was ready to polish off her bottle of wine from the night before. She walked in and let her bag drop to the floor, and crossed to the staircase. She groaned as she climbed the stairs. She was exhausted and still had a ton left to do.

June stripped quickly and threw on her yard work clothes. She stopped by the kitchen and poured some wine into a cup with a lid, before making her way outside. The day before she had started a small garden, and she was determined to make something grow out of it. She had no idea what she was doing, though. The wine wasn’t really helping either.

She had been short with a few parents while she was tending the fragile plants. It was a little late in the season to try and start anything, but she had picked up some discount plants that she wanted to help limp along for a little longer. She hoped she hadn’t put any of the parents off, and tried to remember who all had called.

June wiped her forehead with her gloved hand and tried to sort them out. Steven’s mom, Cynthia, was meeting her during lunch. That would be short, thankfully. Steven was a good kid, quiet. Graham and Ginger’s grandma was coming Wednesday afternoon, the parents were out of the country for something. Mia’s dad was going to call during the planning period. Ashley’s mom was coming Tuesday afternoon. And Olivia’s dad was coming Tuesday morning. June felt her shoulders sag, and she drained her wine. That wasn’t even half of the parents left.

She gave up on the garden and stalked inside. She wanted to scare up something for dinner, but didn’t really feel like making anything. She gave in and called the local Indian place. They knew her order, and said they’d be there soon. She grimaced, wondering how much money she had spent on Vindaloo over the years, and decided not to think about it. She had enough time to slip in the shower to wash the sweat off, before the delivery guy knocked on her door. She tipped him generously, and sat down on the couch.

June clicked the tv on and scrolled through her watch list. She settled on some mind-numbing detective show, and ate half of the curry. She put the rest away, and grabbed her bag by the door. The bag was a mess, but she managed to find her red pen and the papers that needed grading, and she settled back in.

Soon, the mindless task paired with a full stomach and the wine had her falling into a deep sleep.

Frankie was pissed. He was giving up the best time of the day for harvesting to meet with Liv’s teacher, and Ms. Collins couldn’t be bothered to show up. His thoughts went back to the phone call the day before, and he gritted his teeth as he realized she had put him off twice. Over something she had wanted to set up. He’d gotten the bundles of paper she had sent home on it. Yet, here he was, and she was nowhere to be found. He pulled his phone out, and considered punching in her number, but stopped himself.

Frankie had to exhale deeply four times before he could lay his phone down. He had gotten here a little early, and it was just now 7 am, and he didn’t have a set schedule. Liv was with Ashley, Becka had insisted on taking them to drop off so he could have plenty of time with Ms. Collins. Not that it mattered now, he thought, dryly. At ten past, he pulled his phone back out, and brought her name up. He was angry again, and had every intention of calling. But before he could press her name, the door swung open, and his heart dropped.

June woke with a start. The birds were singing outside, the light was all wrong, and she was on the couch. Shit, she thought, jumping up. Shit, shit, shit. She had overslept. She hurried up the stairs and threw on something presentable, and didn’t even check herself in the mirror. She could do her makeup in the class. She grabbed up the half graded papers and shoved them in her bag, and ran out the door. She dumped everything in the passenger seat and drove much faster than usual. She was about halfway to the school when she realized she was meeting a student’s parent this morning. She hadn’t had any coffee, and her brain was starting to slow down from the adrenaline of being late, and she could not remember who she was meeting. She parked, and popped her vanity mirror down and grimaced. She looked like she was having a bad morning. She decided to throw her hair up in a messy bun, and grabbed the mess up from her passenger seat.

She basically ran into the building, her flats ricocheting sound off the concrete walls. She swung her door open, apologies already falling from her lips, when she looked at the parent. The apologies died on her lips, and her mouth fell open.

“You?” She asked, dumbly. “Frankie?” He looked like he had seen a ghost, a bitchy ghost, she grimaced.

“You?” He stood now, and started to move to her.

“Uhm, you can’t be here. I’m meeting a student’s parent, and how’d you even know where to find me?” She started rambling, but when the words were out she realized how stupid they were. “Oh my god, you’re the parent?” She barked out a laugh, and dumped her bag on her desk. He grinned, and wiped the back of his neck.

“Liv’s dad. I’m Frankie Morales.” He told her, faltering from shaking her hand.

“Perfect. I’m Juniper Collins, you can call me June, or Ms. Collins, whatever you prefer. I’m sorry I’m late, I...I started a garden yesterday and wore myself out. That’s what I was doing when we spoke on the phone,” She told him, laughing. June had only tried gardening because she wanted a common foot with him. She didn’t want to tell him that yet, though. “Anyway, let’s get to Liv. Liv is a great girl, Mr. Morales.”

“Frankie.” He interrupted, with a small smile.

“Okay, Frankie. Look, Liv is great, she really is. She struggles in class sometimes, though. She is smart as hell, but she seems to struggle. I wanted to give you some information about ADD or ADHD. It presents differently in girls, and is often overlooked. I haven’t known her long, obviously, but I actually was diagnosed much later in life, and I remember doing some of the things she’s doing. Would you be interested in some info on that?” June asked carefully, their relationship was rocky and weird, and she didn’t want to overstep. This was her job, though. It was a little bit not her job, actually. But she always wanted to look out for her girls, especially when they were as smart and incredible as Liv.

“Oh, wow. I had no idea she was struggling.” Frankie muttered, and removed his cap. June sucked in a sharp breath at his light brown, bouncy curls as they spilled out. He was beautiful. She distracted herself by moving behind her desk and grabbing a folder she had laid out for Liv, for this exact reason, and she thanked her past self for being put together. Then she went and sat beside him at the small activity table. She felt comical sitting next to him in the small chairs, he was spilling over his own. She laid down the folder and put a hand on his arm.

“Look, it isn’t a struggle that she notices yet. It’s her recall, her attention span, and her ability to focus. That sounds like a lot, I know, but there’s a simple test, and there are effective alternatives to stimulants. I’m on one, and it really helped me. Life is only going to get harder for her, if she has it and it remains untreated, but she has no idea. She isn’t “different” yet, and she’s doing so, so well in class. She is a model student. I just want to help, that’s all.” She watched his face as she spoke, and by the end, he seemed defeated.

“I should have noticed. I’m her dad. I...I’ve been worried I’m not around enough, and now you drop this on me.” He laughed dryly. She patted his arm.

“Liv talks about you all the time. She loves you, Frankie. She tells us all the time about her pilot dad.” June said it before she had time to think, before she connected “Liv’s Dad” with Frankie, the man before her. And then, her big mouth spit out something she wanted to take back immediately. “But you’re a farmer, right?” He looked up into her eyes, and his face was hard.

“Anything else you wanted to tell me about Liv?” His words were right, but the tone was too harsh. June flinched back from him, and dropped her gaze from his suddenly hard face.

“Liv is a great girl. She’s great to have in class. I have nothing else for you.” June told him monotonically, going on autopilot so as not to cry. She had spent the whole weekend thinking about him, then she had planted a stupid garden to have more in common with him, and then fate brought them back together, and she screwed it up again. She decided it was done, then. Frankie Morales was not in the cards for her. Sure, she might see him again because she taught his daughter, but she was through thinking of him like that.

“Good. I have to get going, next time try to be on time.” He scolded, as he stood abruptly and left without another word. Slowly, June followed and shut the door behind him. Alone, at last, she started crying.

~~~

“Idiot. You fucking idiot.” Frankie berated himself in his truck. He couldn’t believe it when she swept into the room. He had found her. Not her, he thought with a grimace, Juniper. The name felt so appropriate. It was an old name, but it suited her so perfectly. He exhaled roughly and tried to rewrite the scene. She was looking out for Liv. She wanted Liv to be happy and succeed. This woman cared more about his daughter than Liv’s own mother. And as soon as she tried to get to know him, he bit her head off and made her feel bad for being late. Jesus, what a dick. He had found her, and in a single moment, he had managed to ruin it again.

He put the truck in drive and headed home. Nothing left to do here, he thought bitterly. He was pulling up the driveway when he remembered that she had started a garden. It wasn’t a coincidence, he realized. She had started a garden because of him. He parked the truck and laid his head against the steering wheel. He had pushed her away at every turn. The market, the bar, and now at the school. He had seen her face before he left, and knew it was done. He had pushed too far, too fast. Of course, she would want nothing more to do with him. He had done nothing but treat her like shit.

He got out of the truck and threw his hat. It didn’t do much except get his cap dirty, but it was all he could do. He pulled his phone out, and pulled her name up. He typed a long message, and erased it. Then he tried again, and erased it again. His pride was getting in the way. He couldn’t tell her about his piloting years. The army, spec ops, Colombia, the coke, or any of it. She could just hate him, and then he couldn’t hurt her anymore.

~~~~

June paced up and down her classroom. Her face was puffy, still, and she had been struggling to focus all day. She couldn’t meet anyone new for dinner; she wasn’t in the right headspace for a date. Let alone one where she would have to leave a lasting impression. She chewed her thumb nail before heading down the hall.

Samantha's classroom was pretty close to her own, and June was glad for it. If she had had to walk further she would have lost her nerve. June knocked tentatively on the door, before pulling it open. Samantha looked up and grinned.

"Hey girl! Are you excited for your big date tonight?" June’s own smile fell from her face.

"Actually, that's why I'm here. I want to cancel." Samantha's smile pulled down quickly.

"Why?"

"I'm having kind of a bad day for impressions," June told her flatly.

"Well, I couldn't if I wanted to. Santiago is out of town, no reception. I don't have the friend's number." June groaned.

"Okay, alright. Ugh, probably for the best. Do you know anything else about him? I’ve had kind of a rough day. You said, ex-military right?”

“Yeah, Santi doesn’t really talk about that time, and I haven’t pushed it. I met him a while back, Fish. He’s sweet. I think he’ll be your type. You like tan brunettes?” June nodded, laughing and thinking about Frankie Morales again.

“He’ll be perfect. Doesn’t say much and likes beer, that’s all I know.” Samantha gave a small shrug.

“Alright, thanks. I’ll let you finish eating.” June said, excusing herself.

She left feeling defeated. A parent was going to be late this afternoon, she had gotten the email after the Frankie disaster. Which meant that she was going to be late to dinner. She wasn't killing it in the men department so she hoped that despite a military background he wouldn't mind her tardiness. She couldn't handle another horrible scene like the one from this morning.

The rest of the day was uneventful, which she was glad for. Her nerves were on the edge. She tried to ignore how much Liv favored her dad, and how she loudly told the class about their upcoming camping trip. She found herself listening intently, despite herself. And even chuckled at the girl’s memories of the last trip. June’s mood improved with the day, too. She even played a little music in the background while the kids worked on their worksheets.

By the time she had hauled herself into her car, the last thing she wanted to do was go to dinner. But she swiped on her favorite lipstick and drove to the restaurant. If she broke the speed limit, she would only be about five minutes late, and she pushed it. She wanted to drink some wine, and forget about Frankie Morales. Another tan brunette in her life would do her good, she thought happily. She was tired, but she wanted to make the most of it.

---

Frankie was looking back and forth between the menu and his watch. He couldn't believe that another woman was about to be late on him. He was trying hard to get June out of his mind, and his blind date wasn't making it easy on him. He chuckled when he realized what he was doing. Just meeting a total stranger for dinner. He didn't have much choice in the matter, he thought, remembering how Pope had basically told him where and when, without asking if Frankie was even interested.

She had good taste, he conceded. This was his favorite spot. They made amazing, fresh pasta. He was eyeing the cocktail menu, when she rushed in. He couldn't believe he was running into her again.

It was June, because of course it was. She was flushed, probably late again, he huffed, but she had put on a bright red lipstick that made his heart stutter. He lowered his gaze back to the menu. He hoped she wouldn't see him out on a date, even if he saw her. The hope was short lived because she made her way to him, her eyes glinting with an emotion he couldn't place, and she exhaled deeply.

"Let me guess, your call sign is Fish, right?" His eyes snapped to hers and she laughed while nodding. It was her. He had found her again. The waiter walked over and she told him to bring a bottle of red, and a beer for him. He told the waiter his brand, and raked his eyes over her.

"Sorry I'm late, I had a crazy day." She mused once she had taken two deep sips of her wine.

"Yeah? What is it you do?" He asked, hoping beyond hope that this was their start over. Their fourth, or so, start over.

"Teacher. Yeah, I teach. Most days it's easy, but some days there are parents." She told him, her cheeks flushed.

"Hopefully, no jerks?" He asked, quickly taking a sip of his beer. She held her head to the side before she sighed.

"I don't know what's going on here, Frankie. It's kind of exhausting. I think you're pretty handsome, you grow amazing food, you have a beautiful daughter, but I think we just keep messing up. How about, just for now, we enjoy this meal and the company, and tomorrow we can talk about what it means that we can't keep away from each other?" He searched her eyes. She was tired, he could tell, but she was so sincere. He wanted desperately to know why she sat down instead of just leaving. He wanted to know why they were seemingly so connected. He wanted to know if he'd been on her mind too.

"I'm thinking the carbonara." He answered, and she smiled before looking the menu over herself. The rest could wait. He had found her again.”

#frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #Frankie Morales x oc #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #original character #feel the heat #juniper collins #pedro pascal characters #Pedro pascal

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everyhowlmarksthedead · 4 years

Text

❛ FAMILY ❜

Headcanon.

with Neron ‘Creeper’ Vargas.

Request: Oooh yes yes yeah 😁 I show u take request 🙈 I would read something with Creeper dates a girl who already have 4/5 sons of a precedent relation. Maybe about how he create relationshion with their ? Like one love bike, another by playing football ? An the older is septic but one day he understand have Creeper for stepfather is having all Mayans for family. Sorry if it's sound to specific.

BY ANON

Warnings: none.

Word count: about 1.3k

Aurora says: this writing hasn't been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I'm sorry about that!

Gif credits: to the author, I found it on Google.

Masterlist.

Creeper couldn't believe you were alone in charge of three kids, when you moved onto his neighborhood. And he knew you didn't have a husband around because he had never seen him.

The problem was when he realized he was in love with you, with your scent, with the sweet tone of your voice and with that smile which could stop a war.

“Wait, wait! Lemme help you, mama!”

You hear a voice behind you, making you turn around from the trunk of your car full of bags. A man covered with tattoos and a helmet hanging from his forearm, is walking towards you.

“Oh, no, no. Don't worry. It's okay”. You mutter somewhat ashamed with a fleeting smirk on your lips.

“Nah, ain't nothing better to do”. He just shrugs his shoulders, grabbing three bags in every hand and greatly surprising you of his strength.

“Than—Thank you…” You just say, taking the three left, before closing your car.

Walking in silence straight to the porch, you open the door with some difficulties making you both laugh until it finally opens. Following you to the kitchen, he leaves the groceries over the counter, having one quick look but without wanting to look like a creepy stalker.

“I'm (Y/N), by the way”. You say then, raising a hand at him hoping it's enough for a formal greeting.

“Neron”. The man answers, narrowing it softly, a little bewitched by your touch.

“Can I… maybe offer you a coffee or something…?”

Whenever you two were free of responsibilities, you used to sit on your porch to share some drinks and talk about work, or about your lives in general. And only when he knew that it could be something serious, he just talked to you about what he really does, one bit at time.

After some months, more or less, hanging out, you two decided to introduce him to your girls. Two twins of six years old and a pre-teen of fourteen. You were aware that he wouldn't have any problem with Lia and Marta. But Carlota was another history.

Since Creeper has sat at the table, after helping you to settle the table, you can see the younger whispering and chuckling with that kind of gesture that they use when they want to ask something, but they're too ashamed. Narrowing your eyes, as the man does, you look at them.

“C'mon, girls, spit it out”. You say with a funny smile on your lips.

“Can we color your drawings one day?” Marta and Lia ask in unison, pointing at his bare arms.

You can't help but laugh rubbing your faces.

“Sounds like a cool plan”. Creeper nods pretty convinced.

“Fuck this shit”. From her silence, Carlota drags backwards her chair, getting up to step out of the living room.

“Hey, mama”. Neron says grabbing your left wrist, when you're about to follow her. “It's okay. Give her time”.

“I can't let her behave like that”. You grunt sitting down.

“She is fourteen, baby. We both know what her father did. And probably she thinks I want to replace him, but it's not. She will see it, okay?”

The months kept passing by, taking the next step when you decided to live together. At this point he has already introduced you to his brothers, being more kindly than you thought. At least, they didn't thought that Neron was fucking out of his mind, for getting related with a woman with three kids.

Lia and Marta were delighted having him at home, playing with them whenever he had five minutes, or cooking pancakes on Sundays. And of course, letting your girls color all his tattoos.

Carlota, by the other hand, started to be hard-nose. Always locking herself in her dorm when she was at home. And it was breaking your heart, trying to talk with her about what was bothering her, even if you already knew. But the worst part was when the principal of his highschool called you to tell you about a fight that involucred your daughter with another three girls.

“Hey, mama, I got this, okay?”

What you didn't know is that Neron was already conscious about what was happening. So he was to take care of that business.

Your daughter was sitting on a bench in the peak time of finishing classes, crying unconsolable with her hands covering her burning face. She wasn't expecting the loud buzz coming closer, raising her blurry gaze to the road. Nine motorbikes made their appearance, getting parked backwards next to the sidewalks. The whole student body with their parents and some teachers turned at them, mostly whispering about how good those nine men looked. Taking off their helmets, Neron's brothers waited for him, having some cigs, while he started to walk towards your surprised daughter.

As soon as he was able to kneel close to her, he knew by just one look who were the other girls. He didn't say anything, standing up to lead his steps to the three families with their eyes fixed on the man.

“I know that your daughters are teasing my kid about me, about my club and about what we do. So, lemme tell you something, as parents you are, the only thing you want is the happiness of them. Keep it in mind. Because next time my kid comes back home crying, I will not be this… polite”.

The girls were trembling, hiding behind their parents who were terrified too because of his words. Showing them a fake smile, Neron turned around to your daughter to make her a sign.

“I want you to say ‘sorry’ to her, and promise that you will never gonna fuck her up again”.

“Sir, yo—”.

“Shut the fuck up, man. I'm talking to your ill-bred kids”.

“We… We're so—sorry, Carlota”.

Your daughter looked at him, clinging to his arm, pouting a little and pulling him back.

“Good. Never forget to be kind”.

That night, Carlota didn't stop talking about how scared everyone was because of Creeper, totally freaking out too about when he appeared with his brothers in such cool motorbikes.

It was almost two am when your boyfriend came from the clubhouse, a little tired and needed for a cold beer. Taking off his boots at the entrance, to not be noisy, he walks straight to the kitchen to grab one from the fridge. Opening it with not much difficulty, he has a sip turning to the island in the middle of the kitchen.

“Jesus fucking christ, Carlota…” He whispers with his heart racing. “What you doin'ere?”

“I couldn't sleep”. She just says, having another spoon of ice cream.

“At least, turn on the lights… You're gonna gimme a heart attack, kid”.

She laughs low, shaking her head, before getting up from the stool. Walking towards him without saying a single word, your daughter hugs Creeper wrapping his waist with both arms.

“Thank you for today”. She mutters resting her cheek on his chest.

Your boyfriend doubts for a second, not knowing if it's real or an illusion, but it feels so good that he could help her somehow. Hugging her back, the man kisses her head, smiling like a fool. Being happy to see that she's finally accepting him in her family.

“Listen, Carlota…” He says then, pulling himself away to leave the beer over the counter. “I don't wanna replace anyone, okay? We don't have to play this dad and daughter game. I wanna be your friend, I want you to trust me and talk to me about your problems, if you have some, okay?”

“Okay”. She just says. “I'm sorry if I hurt you ever”.

“Nah, it's okay, kid. I just want you to be happy”.

“I am, Creep'”.

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thebestofoneshots · 4 years

Text

SUNDAY BAKING MADNESS

Paring: Dean Winchester x reader

Prompt: You and Dean are determined to finish a homemade meal and a cake for Jack’s birthday. So, naturally, the kitchen turns upside down.

Warnings: None, maybe a spoilers for 15x14? But nothing serious.

A/N: this is just a bunch of fluffy fluff because my boy Dean deserves some happy times.

You sat on the library table flipping through some monster lore pages, trying to find interesting information on possibly unknown monsters when Dean walked in, looking around suspiciously.

“Have you seen Jack?” He asked you and Sam, who had been silently reading on the chair opposite yours.

You denied with your head.

“He must still be in his room,” replied Sam “he’s been in his room ever since Mrs. Butters left.”

Dean nodded “I need you to keep him out of the kitchen at all costs!” He explained.

Sammy frowned “Why?”

“I’m making burgers, and a cake for his birthday,” He nodded and a little smile appeared on his mouth.

“Oh I can help you with the burger buns,” you volunteered.

“Did you just offered yourself to buy burger buns?”

“Not buy, make them!” You answered matter of factly.

“Wait second... you know how to make burger buns?”

“Well they’re just bread,” you shrugged.

“Yeah,” he nodded.

“Well it’s basically just yeast, flour and water...” you elaborated.

“Huh,” he nodded “well that sounds awesome, fresh buns and homemade patties... it’ll be a feast!”

You nodded and stood up to follow Dean to the kitchen.

He turned around right before reaching the door “Sammy, you better make sure he doesn’t go in the kitchen,”

Sammy nodded and then went back to his book.

As the two of you reached the kitchen, Dean took out some ground meat from the fridge, and an apron from the cupboard, that he then placed over his shoulders, it was a stupid black one that said “kiss the cook” in bold cursive, he loved wearing it.

You rolled your eyes but started looking for all the ingredients on your list. You needed yeast, flour, milk, butter and 2 eggs. Your buns had to rise before going in the oven so you had to start with those.

As the two of you worked in synchrony around the kitchen, just like you would on a hunt, he finished his meat blend and you finished the bread, but it still needed more kneading, if only the men of letters had a stand mixer, you wouldn’t have to do it by hand.

“Do you want some help?” He asked from behind, as he noticed you struggling with the dough.

“Be my guest,” you replied stepping aside. He started moving the dough around like playing with playdough, bland then he tried to spin it around like a pizza, you giggled from behind.

“What?” He asked.

“Nothing,” you replied “is just that you’re making burger buns, not pizza.”

He just turned around and raised his eyebrows at you.

“Here,” you approached him “you need to push, and then bring it back, push and then bring it back towards you,” you explained as you kneaded the dough on the counter.

He nodded and tried it himself. He wasn’t half bad “if you weren’t a Hunter, you’d make a decent cook.”

“Hey! I’d make an amazing cook!”

“Sure thing,” you answers and then, now that the dough looked even grabbed it deposited on a bowl, draped a wet towel above it and left on the furthest places on the counter possible.

Dean's patties were already on the fridge and your dough was going through the first rise time. “should we start with the cake?”

He nodded, “I found this recipe,” he pointed at a chocolate sponge cake one on an old men of letters’ book. You gave it a quick overview and it seemed nice, you weren’t anything close to a professional baker but you had made your fair share of cakes in the past.

“I think is a good one, you can measure the dry ingredients while I do the wet ones,” you said casually as you walked to the fridge to get some milk.

“Why are they wet?” He asked with a little sly smirk on his face. Of course he would, you weren’t even surprised. This was Dean Winchester after all.

“Well, you know Dean, wet ingredients are generally liquids, like milk, eggs, butter, that kind of stuff, so yeah, that kind of makes them wet... it does not mean they are aroused in any shape or form,” you added at the end just to mess with him. He drew a short breath like he was about to speak but you quickly interrupted “Now focus on the flour and cocoa powder please.”

He nodded and started measuring the ingredients. “The books say you have to sift them,” you told him as you departed the egg whites from the yolks.

He nodded and started sifting. As you busied yourself measuring the milk and melting some butter, you heard Dean from behind.

“Hey (Y/N)! Look what I found!” He said showing you an electric hand mixer. It was already connected, and he had already turned it on, it was just seconds from inches away from touching the mix. The mix with only dry ingredients.

Your eyes opened wide and you definitely screamed “Nooo!” as you walked towards Dean to try and stop him. But it was too late, as soon as the beaters touched the flour mixture a cloud of light brown powder filled the kitchen. Dusting not only Dean but also you and the entire kitchen around the two of you.

It didn’t take too long for him to realize his mistake and turn off the mixer. You drew in a deep breath and stared at him.

“I’m sorry,” he said, now setting the mixer on the counter, still holding the bowl in his hands.

“You just dusted me completely...” you stated.

“Well not completely,” he argued.

“Dean Winchester, don’t you dare argue with me.”

“I should measure the ingredients again,” he nodded towards the Noe half-empty bowl. “Is all of this really going to waste?” He questioned, looking at the red bowl on his hands.

“Oh no, it won’t,” you said carefully grabbing it from his hands “In fact, it will be of great use,” you smiled at him and proceeded to dump the leftovers of the bowl towards him.

“What the f...” he started but you brushed out laughing, he couldn’t even finish.

“Ok fine, if that’s what we’re playing at,” he said then, dusting off all the powder towards you. The two of you were laughing at this point, and you grabbed some barbecue sauce he’d prepared earlier with a wooden spoon and softly spread it on his cheek.

“There, that’s the icing!” You smirked. He just narrowed his eyes at you but decided to be the bigger person and did not, ouch an egg on top of your head. Once your laughter died out, you almost felt bad for him. He genuinely wanted to make this dinner for Jack and an accident had gotten him filled with spices and ingredients. “All right, all right, we should probably focus,” you managed to say.

He just raised his eyebrows at you. “Sorry,” you mumbled as you started dusting off some of the powder on his shoulders and his chest. Then with a towel that sat on the counter, you started cleaning his sauce filled face. You had one hand on his left cheek and the other cleaning his right. After cleaning out most of it you nodded to yourself. “There you go, like new.”

He missed your hands cupping his cheeks as soon as you removed them. No one had cleaned his cheeks that way since he was 4, ever so gentle... so loving...

You stared at his big green eyes for a little too long before snapping out of the trance “we should go back to baking, or the cake won’t be finished, nor will the bread,” you said as you walked towards the dough and as you punched it and worked your way with it to start making the little balls.

“Is this ready?” He asked showing you the batter he was mixing.

“When there are no lumps, probably like a minute more. When it’s done you can put it on the moulds,” you commanded, “Also, don’t forget to grease the pans.”

He nodded and continued with his work until he was done. “Ready! Should I put them in the oven?”

“Yes! And then you can come over, help me make the little balls.”

He placed the cakes on the oven and walked towards you, “aren’t they too small for burger buns?” He questioned.

You shook your head “We’ll let them rise another hour before placing them in the oven.”

“Awesome,” he said and then paid attention to what you were doing “so you just roll them around?”

“Not quite, first, you have to pull the dough towards the bottom, to make the top smooth, then you can start rolling,” he nodded and tried following, but his little dough balls were a little weird. “Here, let me help,” you said as you placed your hand on top of his to coach him on the circular movement he was supposed to do. Not that either of you would admit it, but you loved every second of that hand over hand contact. “There you go!” You said as you removed your hand from his “you’re a natural.”

He smiled and continued. In just a few minutes you were done with the little balls and placed them on top of the oven, so they would rise nicely on the warm area. You then turned around and saw the mess the kitchen had turned into. You sighed “We’re gonna have to clean this out...”

He drew a deep breath “Yeah we do.”

As the two of you started cleaning the counter, Dean tripped, on attempts to keep himself off the floor he grabbed the side of the counter with one hand, but the sauce bowl was there and he only succeeded in flipping it and consequently it falling over his face, you, trying to help tried to grab his free hand, but his weight pulled you in and the two of you ended ok the floor. You on top of him and the sauce bowl on top of his head.

“Awww,” you heard him complain from underneath, you removed the bowl from his head and couldn’t help but let a small google out.

“That sauce most really like your face,” you pointed out and with your index finger grabbed a bit from the sauce and plopped on your mouth to taste it “and I’m sorry to inform you, you’re going make more since it’s incredibly tasty.”

He let out a small chuckle after that. He was in a good mood, after all, he loved having you on top of him. Not that he would ever admit it “Do you want some more?” He asked, grabbing some on his finger and plopping it on his mouth.

You thought it over “I don’t know... I’d be kind of weird to lick your face...” you joked.

But he wasn’t going to let the joke slip away that easily “you wouldn’t!” He played offended.

And that was all you needed, Dean turns things into a dare and you almost lose complete control over your own actions. Leaning closer to his face and lowering your head towards his ear, you whispered “Ah... wouldn’t I?”

And you gave a fast long kick to the far side of his cheek, laughing uncontrollably at his reaction as you rolled off of him. Your hair was now too filled with sticky sauce.

“Did you really just?” He asked in between laughter, you were both just like children when you were around each other. This just prooved it.

The two of you finally stood off the ground and continued with the cleaning. You tied your hair after trying to get some of the sauce with water and he did the same. You were determined to finish this dinner.

“Go bathe!” He said, “I’ll take the cakes out when they’re done, and put the buns in, that way you can check on them while I shower and after we can finish the burgers.”

“10 minutes more,” you said pointing at the oven “make sure to use a toothpick to make sure they’re ready!”

“You know, I’ve made cake before,” he replied.

“Have you, really?” You questioned.

He thought about it for a moment. He must have, he thought to himself. He knew he had at some point he just couldn’t quite pinpoint when. So he just repeated his earlier words “Go clean up, I’ll take care of it,” and so he did.

He checked the cakes were ready and took them out, set the timer for the buns, who had now grown into beautifully big dough balls for perfect burgers and, and placed them in the oven. But when he tried to take the bread out of the mould it wouldn’t come out.

“Hey (Y/N)!” He said loudly, so you would hear him from wherever he was, you walked in with a towel over your shoulders since your hair was still wet. “The bread won’t come out.”

You frowned “Did you grease the pans?”

“Yeah, they’re over there,” he pointed at a pile of oily frypans that sat per the kitchen table “but I don’t understand what that has to do with this...”

You sighed “Dean. You’re telling me you greased the frypans over the kitchen table...”

“Yeah, so the meat wouldn’t stick while cooking,” he replied, still fumbling with the bread on the mould.

“And didn’t it occur to you, that the moulds should’ve been greased too? So that the bread wouldn’t stick?”

Realization downed of him, that by “greasing the pans” You meant the moulds for the cake, rather than the frypans for the meat. “oh...”

“Yeah...”

“Can we fix it?” He questioned.

“We could try taking them out, some of it definitely won’t come off, no matter how much we try, especially the bottom part, but some can be salvaged,” You explained. And so the two of you went around the cakes with a knife to try and unstick the sides before Turing around the bread, luckily, two cakes came out, since the moulds were good quality and the bread had its fair share of butter on it. So other than the tops, the bread had come out almost entirely. Still good for a cake.

“All right, your turn,” you said motioning to the door, “there’re so many ingredients on top of you, you might as well be a cake.”

He chuckled at your words and walked towards the bathroom. Leaving you to tend the buns. Dean came about 15 minutes later, all fresh and clean and the two of you took the buns out of the oven together. But since he was cold from the shower you told him to focus on decorating the cake while you finished the meat. He tried to argue by telling you that he was the grill master and not you, but you shot him down by telling him he would be the master of nothing if he got arthritis from switching between cold and hot all the time.

So he finished decorating the cake, a masterpiece he called it. You tried not to laugh at the sweet intents of the big broad man to make a nice cake for Jack. You chuckled when you took a look at his face. It was again filled with stuff. This time the frosting you had prepared for the cake.

“All right grill master,” you said, walking closer to him and using the same towel as earlier to clean his face again. After removing most of if with the damp towel you smiled. He was so pretty, with his big green eyes just waiting for you to finish. “You really need to stop getting your face filled with food.”

“Well it’s not so bad if you lick it off like earlier,” he mumbled, barely audible, but you paid way too much attention to his words anyway, so you heard it. But you didn’t comprehend what he meant by it, or maybe you were too set on the idea that he would never think of you that way that you were now oblivious to the very evidence against it. So you ignored it and moved on.

The two of you finished preparing the burgers, the cake was in the fridge and you started bringing the burgers to the library, were Sam, Jack and now even Cass sat.

The dinner was fun, everyone loved your food and Jack even argued that Dean and You should open a restaurant together. He couldn’t believe his eyes when Dean brought over his cake. With a cap covering the cake to make more impact on the surprise.

“Ta daaa” he said as he revealed the cake, “Well it’s not like Mrs. Butters but—“

“— it’s great,” Jack said with a smile.

You were sitting in the table next to Sam, and couldn’t help but smile, you knew Dean was still hurt, from everything that had happened, but he was getting better, and he was starting to forgive, even if it was the hardest thing.

“Come here!” You said motioning Dean to sit next to you.

“It’s actually Nut and almond on the inside,” you said as you helped cut the cake.

“Like Nougat?” Asked Jack, with a bright smile.

“Exactly like Nougat,” replied Dean with a tiny little smirk, like he was so proud of himself.

You sighed deeply, staring at Dean for a little too long before going back to cutting the cake.

As Dean tried his first bite his face turned into one of surprise “Wow, we did great!” He said pointing at the cake “this is delicious!”

You took a bite of your slice and nodded in agreement.

“We should bake together more often,” he said casually as he took another bite.

You laughed since the frosting had gotten all over his face again. You had to resist the urge of cleaning it off. Not in front of everyone at least. “I doubt the kitchen would survive if we did...”

“Wait why?” Asked Sam with a frown.

“Oh nothing, right (Y/N)?” Said Dean giving you a look.

“Right... nothing,” you replied smirking complicitly.

What happens in the kitchen, stays in the kitchen.

Permanent Dean taglist: @akshi8278 @hobby27

Find more Dean fluff here

#imagine #one shot #oneshot #x reader #dean winchester #supernatural #dean winchester one shot #fanfic #dean one shot #dean x reader #Dean oneshot #Dean x you #dean winchester x (y/n)#dean winchester x you #Dean Winchester x reader #x you #x (y/n)

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escxpiism · 3 years

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( olivia holt, 23, she/her ) * hey, i’m looking for the office of ALICE ADAMS. they’re the EMPLOYEE who’s known around the office as THE MASK if that helps ? not to be a gossip, but i’ve heard that they’re ADAPTABLE but JADED, is that true ? i also heard that they’re the one who CATFISHED DAVID HASSELHOFF. anyways, here’s the coffee they ordered.

hi y’all !! i’m may ( 21 // est // she/her ) and i am super super pumped to be here !! i’m also very much writing this against my better judgment ya girl’s running on four hours of sleep and has the option to sleep more but......... is not tired ?? so i do apologize if my mind is secretly tired and makes this intro,,,, even worse than it would be fahouedn. on with the show !! anyway anyway!! feel free to like this if u wld like 2 plot and i will hit u up!!

( also, for some vibes if you so choose to read, here’s the link to her playlist ! )

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

QUICK FACTS:

full name: alice audrey adams

date of birth: october 26th, 1997

*will not perfectly reflect the zodiac big three below because that’s.... math.

zodiac big three: scorpio sun, virgo moon, taurus rising

gender & pronouns: cis woman & she/her

sexual orientation: bisexual

education: ged, bachelor’s degree in film — pratt institute

enneagram: 4w3

mbti: enfp

temperament: sanguine-melancholic

label: the mask

various inspirations: “nutshell” - alice in chains, “santa monica” - everclear, “polly” - nirvana, “jennifer’s body” - hole, “creep” - stone temple pilots, kate wallis ( cruel summer - shhhh ), heather davis ( crazy ex-girlfriend ), satana hellstrom ( marvel comics ), bojack horseman - without the amount of problematic ego ( bojack horseman ), eddie huang ( fresh off the boat ), the great britney spears evolution ( temporarily stopping at circus era )

BACKSTORY:

triggers in order: toxic family dynamic, grooming (nothing super in-depth), kidnapping (? like it was ‘willing’ but no. see next trigger for why), toxic “relationship” (and 11yr age gap w/ a 16y/o we hate it), straight-up captivity, very brief mention of suicide + heroin (very!)

*would like to quickly preface that this isn’t just Dark for the sake of being r/im14andthisisdeep but that’s for a later time **(also! i have markers for where the grooming + Super Dark parts begin and end! -- also, the Super Dark part is all very public knowledge. had articles. media frenzy. first thing that comes up if you google her name) *** also. if u need it then a tl;dr is below this section hfkldsa

alice audrey adams was born to the type of family that names all of their children alliterative names ( however, they sadly didn’t get their own kardashian-style show )... alexis adams (working name, utp if taken as a wc)... alfie allison adams (working name, utp if taken as a wc)... born to anna adams and allen adams... we hate it here.

as u can see... all of the kids were basically named after allen... they all had ‘al’ names.... extremely confusing

plot-twist: THAT’S the darkest part

the adams were very concerned with public image. as a family in the upper echelon, they simply had to be! a narcissist father, a distant mother, put in competition with her siblings — there was no truly healthy dynamic in the household. but they looked good. they went to church every sunday, a ‘wwjd’ sticker on the back of her mother’s car. they did just enough activities and took just enough trips together to get the image across. they threw parties. they attended parties. they were the picture perfect american family — they even had two cats in the yard! life used to be so hard!

of course, in reality, this all left ms alice quite the lonely gal. but don’t worry! she didn’t turn to hedonism! lord no! instead, she turned to other people. a lot of friendships — couldn’t tell if they were real or #fortheclout — but at a point, did it matter?

grooming tw: it all came to a screeching halt when she met luke johnson, the son of their neighbors. he came back from california to georgia to visit family, care for his ailing father. oh, he was a good man! sure, he was ‘somewhat’ older than her — 27 when she was 16 — but he was such a good, handsome young man! and they were all still calling him young man, after all.

alice ‘began’ a torrid affair with luke after about a month into his visit. although she saw no immediate wrong in it, he insisted she keep it a secret ‘for the time being’ — which really just made it all the more exciting! he made all the storm clouds that hovered disappear.

one day, the levee broke for alice (still figuring out what exactly happened because i don’t wanna go too dark since this is already extremely dark, but trust that it had something to do with her parents and was just enough to push her over the edge). convinced luke was the only safe person, she turned to him. knowing their small community would catch on and essentially exile him, he took that opportunity to convince her to go back to santa monica with him where they could ‘start anew’ after his father’s death.

there are a few details i plan on adding regarding like. how legality playing into it. but i may just reserve those for an official bio lhakfsdfj

**BEGINNING OF SUPER DARK** for a while, there was the question of whether they should consider it a kidnapping or not. she went with him willingly, but she was still underage (and… you know, that age difference… the power dynamic... gross y’all). the adams insisted that it was (bc it basically was lbr) — primarily because it would make them look far better — but the community still questioned the logistics and legalities of it all… ugh. did the police really wanna deal with that? ugh.

in any case, on the other side of us america, autumn was nearing. alice would have the very occasional inquiry over how school would work (very occasional! don’t worry, luke!), over the logistics of her new life… and, after receiving multiple calls from various friends (in addition to her siblings) that sounded genuine, began wondering… if she’d made the right choice. questions about him.

when she began bringing up the idea of going back — at least for the school year!! — he would continuously remind her that she was not old enough to buy herself a plane ticket (and he was not about to do that). she also couldn’t rent a car yet (and he certainly wouldn’t let her take (one of) his car(s)!). but most importantly? he loved her. and she loved him. (what a creep!)

so, for a hot second, it seemed like she was stuck. damn legalities!! damn love!! you know, until she texted her older sister back with all of the problems that only being 16... and “in love”.... caused. her sister offered to fly down, buy her a plane ticket, and fly back with her.

when luke saw this (with all the unrestricted access to her phone he had so he could block, delete, and manipulate as he pleased), he confronted her. things went awry. she wound up in his budding wine cellar (which he soon emptied, of course… those merlots :( ….). he messaged back and, as her, said it was actually all good!! luke had figured out the logistics and she could call whenever she wanted!!

and those calls became frequent! because she would pick up when luke held it up to her! because she was pretty sure luke would kill her if she didn’t!

she wasn’t sure how long it was until she was officially Found. it took what was ruled a suicide by luke, a shot to the head and heroin in his system, to finally get any authority’s attention. all she knew was that she went to santa monica in mid june and she stopped seeing regular daylight by late july. so some time in august to some time in april… **END OF SUPER DARK + GROOMING**

she was returned to georgia shortly after and everything was different. from herself to her friends. but everything was also the same. from her room to her family. it was all… teasing. she began going to therapy, but she really sucked at it?? so she just let her therapist rely on various articles that covered the event. because it had been a media circus. good enough, amirite??

she didn’t have the will or patience to put on that peppy facade she’d had before, but there were still a few things she found a smidge of joy in. music (although her taste had… slightly altered and wow! it’d been almost a year since she’d picked up that bass!), videography… just those small things, you know??

for the first half of the ~ 2014 fall semester ~, she attempted actual school. really was not working out. with, for probably the first and only time, her parents’ approval and understanding, she dropped out and studied for a ged -- shorter and self-led -- instead.

she passed with a pretty decent grade... but it’s been argued that she really shouldn’t have gotten into pratt institute (she was at least realistic and didn’t apply to, like… cornell), but she did. national news helps.

while in the concrete jungle where dreams are made of, she learned of masters. she submitted an application as a joke — because her grades sucked!!!!! — but guess who got a job?? oh, she could pretend it was because her selected portfolio was actually genuinely good… but, man… we all know…

fun fact: my uncle applied to harvard as a joke. some twenty-five years later, we still haven’t heard back :\

she… continues to suck. like… she kinda wants the place to eventually burn down?? figuratively speaking (or is it…) but ya, for all the monopolizing she has seen turn people Evil?? but the hell can she do about it… just gotta make sure she keeps her in-house videographer job… maybe she can do something about it when she like… is capable. fuaihoelwdjkn

she sees an in-house therapist and i’d say ‘good for her,’ but it was mandated l m a o

doesn’t talk about herself all that much!! but that might not matter for some people, yk?? ugh journalism <3

y’all im so bad at ending intros.

TL;DR:

(consult above trigger list): bright kid in a super rich and toxic family because obviously. everything they did was just to look good <3 also they all had ‘a’ names which is the biggest tragedy of all :( ‘fell in love’ when she was 16ys/o with a 27y/o who was visiting to care for his father in his final days. had a torrid affair. creep. creep (luke) basically made her ‘fall in love.’ she thought creep was the only safe person at one point and creep was like ‘wanna go back 2 santa monica w me?’ and she was like ‘yes.’ and everyone was like ‘was this kidnapping... we cant tell....’ then he became even more possessive when she started questioning him and some logistics. when she finally found a way she could go back to georgia for a spell, he was like ‘no u can go in my wine cellar btw i will be taking all of the wine out.’ he kept her there from august to april and... only reason he didnt keep keeping her was bc he was Caught so. back to georgia where the devil went down. everything was Worse. even the things that were the same. but hey, the sob story that landed her in the news plenty of times got her into a college she shouldn’t have gotten into and gave her a leg-up in a joke application for a job at masters (in-house videographer). really bad at doing her work but like... fuck the man i guess??

PERSONALITY + HEADCANONS:

has no time for Fake Nice (which, as a born southerner, she’s really good at sniffing out!). has no time for arrogance. kind of makes her at odds with the nyc upper class...

on that note, still got a lil bit of some georgia twang

she lets herself indulge in various vices, but has left a previous hedonist status. weed and alcohol are still pretty common, but everything else is kept at arm’s length.

also, while on that topic, she Does Not drink wine. being trapped in a cellar... kinda makes u averse. like. literally despises it. will go on autopilot and make it KNOWN if offered wine.

also ALSO while on that topic, after looking it up and seeing she fits the new york city requirements, she has a medical marijuana card <3 the one good thing, if u ask her, to come out of therapy/psychiatry <3 will not show it off unless absolutely NECESSARY bc then it gets personal or <3 will lie about why and say it’s like for epilepsy or sumn unless ur rolfe but <3 she has it <3

at odds with herself. enjoys the company of others, definitely has a history of being an extrovert, but has become very selective with the company she keeps.

VERY private person! has had enough public standing!

...has occasionally used her story to advance her tho bc it’s her national newsworthy tragic story and she can exploit it if she wants <3

when good charlotte said “i don’t wanna be in love”?? she felt that. her last ‘relationship’ ruined that for her <3 save her <3

used to be really into pop! bc pop is fun! she loved some britney (i mean... she still does... how can u not!)! but. her taste has changed drastically. rarely listens to pop. has traded britney for like.... hole and the like.

her parents didn’t use this as the basis for her name but,, 2 me,,, she’s named alice for a reason <3 gotta luv alice in chains <3

y’all i found a youtube comment on a video called ‘nirvana - half the man i used to be’ (the song was, in fact, ‘creep’ by stone temple pilots) and it’s <3 her music taste <3 click here for it <3

the above said, dresses like she’s in seattle in the early 90s.

her rumor is true btw she DID catfish david hasselhoff and she will proudly tell u. it’s her best accomplishment.

completely stopped talking to her parents and got cut-off a while back ago so now she’s livin like the Prols

which is how a rich kid one of my profs once advised referred to his classmates.... hilarity ensues.

the above in mind, her parents say she’s testing the waters as a ‘normal person’ to save face. they can’t have anyone knowing their family isn’t perfect <3

she has a pet turtle whom she named “dr. turtle,” although he’s constantly referred to as “doc” or “the doc.” he has his own youtube channel and tiktok account.

she has a wall full of evidence that courtney love did not kill kurt cobain... it makes sense, believe me.

became a vegetarian...... partially because it was different from her original life and a way to control something, partially because this commercial made her feel SO BAD.

literally her default mode is stoned like... a totally sober alice is rarer than a nessie sighting

when she was 18, before she could ‘hold her liquor’ as well as she can now, she got a lil too drunk and now has a portrait tattoo of courtney love on her forearm. but it was done well at least!!

kind of ironic considering her career, but RARELY posts on any social media site except twitter. after the media circus in 2014 and All Eyes On Her, she’s just..... so tired...... of ppl seeing her face and being like ‘omg ur that wine cellar bitch!’

(drugs tw) has become more and more Addicted to playing around with fate. j chill on a ledge, talkin to some pals, but deciding it’s a good idea to swing her legs on the wrong side of ledge? totally! mixing a lot of alcohol with opioids which she is not accustomed to? DEF!! (end tw)

more to come!!

CONNECTION IDEAS:

i have two (2) queued up!! but while we wait for them to post, i’ll just… link them over here: 1, 2

muse u <3 the other half of her subplot from the main <3

her older sister!

her younger sibling!

some of the basics!! you know: close pal, roommate, drug buddies (but she gotta hit them up), fwb, ons, frenemies, enemy

ppl who recognize her from the 2014 luke johnson articles and have either brought it up or,,,,,,, act Awkward™

cld be fun 2 just have like. a jam bud. someone who plays any instrument and they j. jam sometimes.

ppl she sells. some of her medical marijuana to. bc yk what weed may be legal in nyc now but,,,, she’s still found a way to be broke she will accept anything. and also it just became legalized THIS YEAR so!!

i have a budding wc page @ https://escxpiism.tumblr.com/wcs (and when i say budding, i MEAN budding) so feel free 2 check it out!!

more to come!!

#masters.intro #alice | intro !#this took me like....... 2hrs 2 write so i do indeed think my mind is fooling me and actually lagging behind.

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janicho88 · 4 years

Text

In This Together Part 3

Pairing- Dean x Wife!Reader

Word count- 5821

Summary-Find out what these two have been up to for the last year. What obstacles are thrown at these two now?

Warnings- Possible sick reader, hospital/doctors, little language, little angst, fluff, implied smut, talk of possible infertility, pregnancy.

A/N-This is the third part of my first fic. It started as a oneshot but turned into more. The first part of this story was written, because I needed someone like Dean at the time. This miniseries I guess you can call it, is very personal to me. I’ve lived a majority of the first two parts. If you’ve read it you can see why I wanted someone like Dean to lean on. In this part I wanted to give the reader something I don’t know if I’ll ever have. Thank you for reading! Pictures found on google.

Part 1 Part 2

11 months later August 2021

Slowly opening your eyes back up, you were staring out the window of your fourth-floor hospital room. This time your window looked over the street below, every time you were on this floor you had a different view. Dean was still sitting in the bed next to you, you leaned your head on his shoulder as you thought back on the last year and everything that had happened.

October 2020 came around and your doctor let you go off your birth control. He knew you and Dean were trying, or more not trying to stop anything from happening. You knew nothing would happen right away and didn’t want to get your hopes up, you were also trying to stay positive that nothing was going to go wrong with you again. You were due a win.

You had been back to work for about four months now, there were still some things you were trying to get used to at the new store. Because of the two surgeries you could wear down easily and were mostly five days a week trying to get up to six. You had already rearranged the office and some of the shelves in the kitchen area to make it more efficient, but some of your employees kept moving things on you so you had to redo them. It would take a good year for your foot to be back to normal which was February, but it would never be pain free. As long as it was better than before you were happy.

Halloween was coming close and Sam and Jess invited you over to their house again. Since you and Dean didn’t have any other plans you decided to join them along with Dean’s parents. Jake’s costume this year was an adorably fierce lion.

With things still crazy in the world and covid still around there weren’t many trick or treaters. Unfortunately, this meant more candy for Dean. Being a Saturday night Dean didn’t have to work the next morning. and you went in later on Sundays, so you stayed for a while. After Jake went to bed the guys turned on the, All Saint’s Day, movies Dean loves. They weren’t exactly your favorite so at least he could try and drag Sam into his madness this way. Dean was enjoying his brother being a bit more into Halloween now that he had Jake around. You bid them goodnight just before midnight and took your sugar high husband home, he wouldn’t be sleeping for a while.

Thanksgiving was late again this year, so your parents had decided like last year to do their Christmas party the week before Thanksgiving again. Even though you were working less this year you somehow got distracted and got to planning late. This meant the first two and half weeks of the month would be filled with baking. The nice thing about the store you took over was the regular oven it had so you could do some of it there. Although first things first, you had to assemble your as baking list. The night after Halloween you were sitting on the couch with the Hallmark Channel playing its Countdown to Christmas. Computer in front of you with Pinterest pulled up. Dean walked in from the kitchen during a commercial.

“Hey Sweetheart, what are you up to? Anything good on?”

“Nine Lives of Christmas, is on. I’m looking..”

“No, Seriously Y/N? It’s the day after Halloween, and you’re watching Christmas movies?”

You turned and glared at him. “One, I have been watching Christmas movies whenever you weren’t around for the last week. Two, you like this one so hush. The guy is a fireman, your missed profession. Three, I’m trying to get into the Christmas mindset to put together my baking list.”

“Oh great, it’s that time of the year again. What crazy ideas are you going to come up with this year, actually wait, let me grab a beer first.”

You laughed as he walked back to the kitchen. Dean might give you a hard time with the Christmas crazy baking list you come up with, but you also know he very much enjoys the sweets you bake. You two had been dating since your freshman year of college and he was always your official taste tester. Although anything pie related was his favorite.

“I think I’m going to just do round sugar cookies again, while I was off after surgery, I watched a cookie decorating class that showed how to paint the frosting with food coloring and alcohol.”

“That sounds like a mess,” you threw a pillow at him. “I mean great Sweetheart, I’m sure they will be amazing.”

“Keep talking Winchester, see how big a hole you can dig. Here’s a recipe for mini pie like cookies, I co”

“Yes!”

“..uld try. Okay, adding to the list https://www.pinterest.com/pin/518406607102183606/

You were bound and determined one year you would get these cupcakes done; just not sure this year would be it. https://www.pinterest.com/pin/174584923040748115/

“How about Christmas Cheesecake Cookies?” You showed Dean the picture and this time he glared you. https://www.pinterest.com/pin/174584923040791076/

“Do you remember the red and green Krinkle Cookies you did last year? Your hands were dyed red and green and so was everything you touched while rolling them. I’m voting no more dyed cookie dough.”

“Fine spoilsport.”

“How about you put the computer away and come to bed with me.”

“You’re heading to bed already it’s only, oh. Be right there Babe,” quickly shutting everything off you chased after your husband to the bedroom.

The party was a little smaller this year, some people still weren’t all for getting together with people yet. It was mostly family and some close friends. Honestly, you preferred it that way, less entertaining you and your mom had to do, and the more you could relax and enjoy the night. The best part about having this early, was your baking was now done, you had even gotten Dean to get the decorations out and most of the house was done. You enjoyed cuddling on the couch with the Christmas lights glowing around you.

Thanksgiving was once again split between both of your families. You went to your dad’s mom for a late lunch and spent time with your family. Then headed over to John and Mary’s for well, for Dean dinner, you were still full, so you just picked at a few things. After cleaning you ladies joined the guys in the living room where they were watching the game and supposed to be keeping an eye on Jake. You and Jess talked sales you saw in the ads and tried to get gifts ideas out of Mary for her and John. Like your mom, she wasn’t very helpful and just said you guys didn’t have to get them anything. Usually you and your mom would hit a few stores tonight, but nothing was really open with everything going on. The two of you had planned for the next day to get a few things before you both headed for work. It was nice to spend time with just your mom anyways.

Every year December seems to fly by, it was the second week now and you had been feeling a bit off, and more tired than usual. According to Dean you had become a bit moody too. Which of course you snapped at him when he mentioned that. He’d been watching his step after that. One morning you were taking care of the dogs when you felt sick and had to run to the restroom. You didn’t go into work that day, since you didn’t want to get anyone else sick, but felt fine as the day went on. The next day at work you walked into the cooler and for some reason the dough smelled strong to you and you had to walk back out and get some fresh air. You attributed it to yesterday’s stomachache. Then the burping started again. Donna heard you at work and came over.

“What’s going on lady?”

“Something’s off, I haven’t been feeling well, I started throwing up and the burping restarted.”

“You know what you need to do right?”

“I know, but really Donna, can’t I catch a break. I don’t know how Dean is going to take it if the doctor tells me there is another problem, I don’t know how I’m going to take it.”

“Okay, well before we send you into the operating room again, maybe you should see what the doctor has to say first.”

“That would be the logical thing to do, I prefer worst case scenario.”

That night when you got home from work you told Dean what was going on and when you called your doctor’s office, they actually had an opening on Friday and could get you in then. Dean was unable to go since Benny would be leaving that morning for a weeklong trip to see his wife’s family for an early Christmas.

The day of your appointment arrived, the nurse, Julie that took you back was your cousin’s friend who first introduced you to this doctor. You two chatted on your way back to the room. When you got to the room, she asked what was going on and when your last period was. You explained your symptoms and how you were worried about another mass or fibroid. It had been over a month since your last, but you hadn’t been regular since your surgery and going off birth control. They took a blood and urine sample to send for tests before you saw the doctor. The doctor pushed near your uterus to see if he could feel any bumps around there. He wanted you to get an ultrasound, so that was scheduled for Monday, your labs would be done then also.

It was a quiet weekend for you and Dean. Monday rolled around and your appointment was that afternoon. Dean was supposed to meet you at the hospital, where the doctor’s office was located, but was stuck in a meeting with a new supplier. Since you were there for an ultrasound you were just supposed to see the tech who would do the test, but Julie was the one who came and got you. She took you back to the ultrasound room. When you were back, she told you the test results came back. You left the doctor’s office in a bit of shock after scheduling your next appointment. As you passed the mall on the way home you decided to make a quick stop.

That night during dinner Dean asked you what the doctor had to say. When he called you after your appointment you said you were fine and would talk to him at home you didn’t want to discuss it over the phone.

“I’m going to need follow up appointments for the next few months, but everything is good.”

“If it’s good why do you need follow ups, what aren’t you telling me?”

You got up and went to get the package you picked up from the mall, handing it to Dean you sat back down. He looked at you and back to the wrapped box.

“Open it.”

Ripping open the paper he looked at the open back and back to you. “Wait, what? Really?”

“Yes!”

You told Dean what happened at your appointment. The results came back, and you were pregnant. Because of your history though, the doctor still wanted an ultrasound just to make sure there wasn’t a fibroid or a mass there. They didn’t find any problems; the tech could just make out the embryonic sac the baby would be growing in. They figured you were around 5 weeks, and due around August 14th. Dean jumped up and grabbed you in his arms, tears were gathering in his eyes, he was so happy.

Later that night you were laying with Dean on the couch and he was going through his phone.

“Hey, the baby is about the size of an apple seed right now. An apple seed, that’s smaller than my fingernail!”

You looked over at his phone and saw he was going through baby sites. “Yes, that is tiny.”

“I can’t wait to see them in the activity walker car, they are going to love it like Jake does.”

“Dean, honey, you know we still have like 8 months till the baby is here, and then they aren’t going to be able to use that right away, right?”

“Yeah, well they still will one day.” He learned closer to your stomach, “right little on, can’t wait to play in the car walker daddy got you.” You had tears in your eyes watching Dean talk to your baby, you had been so afraid this day would never come.

Wiping your eyes, “I thought you said you bought that for Jake?” Knowing that was his excuse at the time, hoping one day it would by your child playing in it.

“Well, I, um,”

“It’s okay Dean, I get it.”

Sitting in the hospital bed you looked down at the little one in your arms, and still couldn’t believe how lucky you and Dean were to be here. Your mind went back to last year’s Holidays, and what happened after you found out you were pregnant.

The two of you debated on telling anyone about the baby yet, since it was early. As excited as Dean was you didn’t know how long he could keep the secret. You would only be seven weeks along at Christmas but decided to tell everyone Christmas Eve at your parents. You were going to tell them like you told Dean. You found some grandparent gifts for them to open. Since Sam had Jake it would be John and Mary’s second grandchild, but your parents first.

While playing games after dinner on Christmas Eve, you and Dean rigged a team game that had your parents all winning. Handing each of them the gifts you picked up Dean grabbed the camera to record their reactions. It took a minute before it sank in, but everyone was so excited for you. Mary and your mom rushed over to hug you while John and your dad congratulated Dean. The rest of the family joined in after the grandparents.

“The baby is the size of a blueberry now.” Dean proudly told everyone.

The two of you decided to have a quiet New Year’s Eve in. Your parents, Dean’s along with Sam, Jess, and Jake came over for dinner, and games. The guys ended up in the basement watching some competition, while you ladies were watching the New Year’s countdown and talking babies. On a trip upstairs Dean heard the conversation and informed everyone that the baby was now raspberry sized.

You had your 11-week ultrasound the Friday before Dean’s birthday. You scheduled it then because you thought it would be an early birthday treat for him getting to see the baby. They were going to confirm your due date, and there was a chance you would be able to hear the baby’s heartbeat. Dean looked over at you with a smile when you were walking up and threw his arm around your waist.

“What?”

“You’re starting to show, I can’t wait till I can feel him kick.”

“Remind me when this kid is playing soccer in me, how happy you are about it then.”

He put his arm around your waist as you walked. “Yeah, yeah, come on I can’t wait to see our little prune.”

“I can’t wait till next week, and we’re on a different food.”

Dean was so excited he could barely sit still in the office. They called you back and got you settled in the room before the tech came back to start. She started and was running the wand over your stomach when she found the baby and pointed him out to you. Dean grabbed your hand.

“Wow, Sweetheart, that’s our little one.”

“Yeah.” You both had tears in your eyes.

The tech turned on the volume so you could hear the heartbeat. “There it is, wait a minute.” She was moving the wand again.

“What’s going on?” You worriedly asked.

“There’s another heartbeat. Here, we have a shy one.”

Looking at the screen you saw another tiny dot.

“Wait, are you saying?” You looked over at Dean and he was looking at the screen it hadn’t hit him yet.

“Congrats, you’re having twins!”

“Wwwhat?” Dean finally tuned into the conversation.

“Happy Birthday weekend dad, you’re getting two babies!” Dean’s look of shock wasn’t one you would be forgetting anytime soon.

Leaving the doctor’s office, you both were a mix of shock, nerves and excitement. It was hard to tell which one was winning out right now. You had the family over to the house for Dean’s birthday on Sunday and you let him share the news with everyone. You also decided it was time to tell the rest of your friends.

You moved your gaze from the tiny bundle in your arms to Dean staring down at the tiny swaddled baby in his. Someone had Daddy completely wrapped around his finger. Sensing you watching him he looked up with a smile on his face. “Sweetheart, I can’t believe our babies are finally here, I can actually hold them and see them when I talk. You did so good,” he told you leaning over to kiss you. Dean had been constantly talking to the babies and trying to feel them kick before they were born. Ever since you got back to your room and the twins were brought in, he had one in his arms at all times, relishing in the fact he now could.

Dean wanted to go all out for Valentine’s Day this year. He said it was the last one with just the two of you, and last year it had been a week after your first surgery, so you just stayed home. Thankfully, you had a dress that had been fairly lose on you before, so you didn’t have to go find something new. Dean had reservations at a nice restaurant in town, where you enjoyed each other’s company and the food. You were beat by the end of dinner and headed home to cuddle on the couch. Dean was rubbing your stomach and talking to the babies while you watched a movie, you were running your hand through his hair.

“How are my babies doing tonight? Did you enjoy the nice dinner I took your mommy to? I can’t wait till I can meet you guys. A few more months, you have some growing to do. You guys are 14 weeks, that means you’re as big as lemons now. You would fit in the palm of my hand.”

The next month went by fairly quickly, both you and Dean busy with work. There were things around the house that would need to be done to get ready for the birth of the twins. It seemed like Dean was quickly lessoning what we would let you do without help so you wanted to get started soon before he had you completely sidelined. You had decided to turn your guest room into the nursery and move the spare bed into the office neither of you really used. You cleaned out some of the lighter things because you knew Dean would freak out on you if you moved anything heavy. One night you went through Pinterest looking for different ideas for the nursery before you rushed ahead with anything.

March 16th was your 6th wedding anniversary; you suggested a quiet night at home. Dean vetoed that since you stayed home last year, again because of you. He booked you a weekend stay at a bed and breakfast a little over an hour away near the beach. Being March, it was too cold to get in the water, but you spent time exploring the quaint little town and its cute shops. While you were walking the beach at sunset your first night you stopped to admire the view and Dean stood behind you wrapping his arms around your stomach.

“I love you so much, Sweetheart.”

“I love you too, Babe. Thank you for doing this.”

“You know I would do anything for you.”

“I know, you have always been so good to me, and you’re going to be such an amazing dad. These babies are lucky to have you.”

“I love spending time just the two of us, but I can’t wait to meet these sweet potatoes.”

“Really Dean?”

“What that’s what the website says for 18 weeks.”

The rest of the weekend went very well, the highlight would have to be the last walk on the beach you and Dean took before you headed home. When you had stopped and were looking out over the water you felt a flutter in your stomach, and a few minutes later another faint one. That’s when you realized it was the babies moving. You told Dean and he kept moving his hand around to try and feel it too but was unable. He was still excited because it meant he would be able to soon.

Easter was the first weekend in April, you split your time between your two families. Sam and Jess hosted this year. While you and Mary kept Jake busy the guys hid Easter eggs around the yard for him to try and find. There were only about ten, but it still took him a little while. He was more interested in playing with the colorful plastic egg then finding the next one. Dean stood beside you while Jess was helping Jake. His hand was on your stomach when he suddenly pulled it back.

“What was, wait was that?”

“Yeah, that was one of the babies kicking.”

“So awesome! I can’t wait till we are out there helping ours find eggs, take their first steps, holding them.”

“I think your order was a little backwards, but I know how you feel, Dean.”

You had a surprise to share with both of your families. A few days earlier you had gone for you third ultrasound. Since you already had the surprise of twins you decided to find out the genders. While you were sitting around talking after dinner you let Dean tell his family, you had told your earlier in the day. Jake was sitting in his lap when he started talking.

“Hey buddy, do you know how big your cousins are now?” Jake didn’t understand and just looked at his uncle. “They are the size of pomegranates.”

“Dean, Babe, he’s not even two yet, he doesn’t know what that is.”

“He’s Sam’s kid. Sam eats all kids of healthy shi.. stuff. I’m sure he has those around the house.” Sam just shook his head and glared at his brother.

“Do you think you want a girl or boy cousin to play with?”

Mary was looking between the two of wondering if this conversation was going where she thought. Jake never answered Dean no matter what he did to try and pull something out of him.

“How about one of each, what do you think about that?”

“Is that one you’re having?” Mary asked not being able to wait for any more of Dean’s game.

“Yep, we are having a boy and a girl.” Dean grinned proudly.

“Oh man,” Sam started, “a little girl is going to have you so wrapped around her finger.” They all congratulated you and Dean once more.

It was the second weekend in May and you really needed to get going on finishing the nursery or starting it. Who would have thought the hardest part was going to be picking a theme you and Dean could both agree on.

“Come on Y/N, what’s wrong with that idea?”

“Dean, I’m not letting your obsession with scaring your brother using clowns scar our children with a clown themed nursery. Not going to happen Winchester.” The mobile and matching blanket he found even creeped you out a little.

“How about race cars? No, I got it! Let’s paint Baby on a wall!”

“Um, nice thought. We were trying to keep it neutral remember? How about when they get older, and this little guy can appreciate cars almost as much as his daddy, you can do a car theme. Who exactly is going to paint Baby, or did you suddenly become Picasso?”

“I didn’t get to who was going to paint it yet in my planning. Fine we can do cars down the road. Where are your ideas?”

“You have already shot them down, you didn’t want to paint the chevron lines, the silver and blue was to girly.” You just shook your head and went back to looking. This was going just as well as picking out names.

Dean looked over at what you had pulled up. “I like that color.”

“Seriously?”

“What, I can’t like that?”

“No, I was asking do you seriously like it, because I do too?”

“Well we like it, but how about my little rutabagas?”

“Really Dean? Do you even know what that is?” mumbling something he turned back to his phone; you wouldn’t be surprised if he was looking up rutabagas. On the plus side you finally had the nursery plans worked out.

Jess, Mary and your mom threw you a baby shower the first weekend in June you were about 30 weeks now. They had the party at your parent’s house, this worked out nice for you since you lived closest to them and it would be easy to take things home. Dean and the guys could hang out at your house since they didn’t want to attend the party the whole time. Jake was almost 2 and very interested in the presents on the table. You all had to keep him from trying to climb up there. It was a great couple hours playing games and spending time with family and friends. Babies Winchester were spoiled greatly!

Dean did come down toward the end, you’re pretty sure though he just wanted food. You excitedly showed him the wonderful gifts people gave the babies and you. He eagerly described the nursery, told people how fast the baby was growing, and how they were now as big as cucumbers.

Your birthday was a few weeks later, and at 32 weeks you weren’t up to doing much for it. Your families came over to the house for dinner. Your parents and Mary had been around and helped with different projects in the nursery. John, Sam, Jess and your brother on the other hand hadn’t been over in a while, so they had not seen the nursey. Dean was eager to show them all

“This is where my little squashes will sleep.”

Jess looked at Dean and laughed, “It’s cute that you think they are going to sleep Dean.”

The majority of the nursery was done now. You had gone with the soft aqua color you both liked, along with white furniture and trim. You had gone with light grey and white chevron curtains and pillows to accent it, along with soft grey carpet.

The Winchester’s always did a big 4th of July BBQ, this year was no exception. Ever since Sam and Jess got married you rotated hosting it between the three of you. This year should have been yours and Deans’ but since you were 34 weeks along Mary graciously told you they would have it. The doctor had told you to really start taking things easier, so you were trying not to overdo it. Mary didn’t let you help much in getting ready for the party, but you did busy yourself in the kitchen at home making a few desserts and Dean’s favorite pasta salad. You were thankful for them taking over you hadn’t been getting much sleep and wouldn’t have had the energy to get everything done you would have wanted.

Dean was manning the grill talking with Sam, Cass, and Benny when you walked over to join him. You could hear him talking as you got closer.

“Right now they are about the size of butternut squash, although they could be slightly smaller cause it’s twins.”

“I could have sworn you called them squash a few weeks ago, or was that a nickname for them?” Sam asked his brother.

“A few weeks ago, they were squash, now they are butternut squash.”

“I wasn’t aware there were different squashes,” Benny added.

“You know Dean for someone with an aversion to vegetables I’m surprised by the number of them you have called your kids.” Sam teased his brother with a laugh.

“What will they be when they are born,” Cas asked.

“Babies, Cas, they will be babies.” Dean shook his head at his brother and friends catching sight of you waddling over. “And there is my beautiful wife, and mom to be.” Dean leaned down and gave you a kiss while his hand went to your stomach.

Night came and you were heading back to you seat next to Dean to watch the fireworks. When the first ones lit up the sky you could feel both babies start to kick, apparently, they were as big of fans as their dad. Dean moved you around on the bench so he was sitting behind you and could have his arms around you. When he felt the babies kick, he moved his hands around and started talking to them calming them right down. The last few weeks whenever they were really active at night Dean’s touch and voice were the only thing that would get them to settle down so you could get a little sleep.

They figured your due date was around August 14th, but since you were having twins, they would most likely be early. Because of your previous surgeries the doctor wanted you to have a C-section to avoid any issues. It wasn’t what you really wanted, but it was what was best. They scheduled that tentatively for Friday August 7th unless the babies had other plans. Which they did. You were laying on the couch Monday morning with some heat on your back to help with the pain you were having while Dean was getting ready for work. Just before Dean walked out you started to feel some cramping. You were fairly certain you were in labor now. Dean actually took it much calmer than you thought he would. He called the doctor’s office while you went to shower and change. When you came back, he had both you bag and the babies in the car, and called Benny to tell him he would need to handle the shop today.

Once you go to the hospital things were a bit of a blur. They checked you in, took you to a room to exam you and prep for surgery. Dean disappeared at one point and came back dressed in scrubs. Before you knew it, they were taking you back to the operating room Dean right beside you the whole time.

“It’s time to meet our pumpkins Sweetheart.”

You just looked over to him and laughed.

“It’s the last time I can say that.”

“I know Dean let’s go meet our pumpkins.” Dean smiled widely at you as you headed down the hall.

Dean was holding your hand and trying to keep you calm when the doctor asked if he wanted to cut the umbilical cord. He did and came back to standing next to you with tears in his eyes as he watched a nurse take your screaming son. The doctor went back to work to get your little girl and Dean once again cut the cord. He was pushed out of the way quickly because she wasn’t breathing. The nurse who brought your son over said that could happen with C-sections and she should be fine. It seemed longer than the few minutes it really was before you and Dean heard her little cries fill up the room, both of you letting out a sigh of relief.

After recovering you were finally in your room with Dean and both of your babies. Your families were here and waiting for your okay to come meet the newest members. Dean proudly introducing the babies to the rest of the family.

“I would like you all to meet Patrick John and Sophia Allison. You spent a few days in the hospital Dean right beside you the entire time.

After everyone left your little family alone Dean sat down next to you on the bed holding Sophia, while you held Patrick. The two of you both lost in your own thoughts and the babies in your arms before you looked over to him drawing his attention to you.

Once you arrived home your mom and Mary took turns coming over to see if they could help you or just let you get some sleep. Dean had to go back to the shop but tried to be home as much as possible.

The twins were two months old and not sleeping well through the night which was leaving you and Dean exhausted. You were both working during the day, and the twins were waking each other up at night which had the two of you getting up each taking one of the babies. You told Dean that you would get up and he could sleep, but he just kissed you as he walked by saying you were in this together no matter what. One night you had finally got them calmed down early and both of you sank down on the couch. Dean asked if you wanted to watch anything on TV.

“Honestly, I don’t think I could follow along on anything right now, but the back of my eye lids. How about we head to bed before the little monsters wake us up?”

“Knew I married a smart woman.”

Just as you settled into bed you heard Patrick start crying, and then Sophia joined in.

“Seriously.” Dean grumbled.

As you were trying to calm both babies down Dean was playing on his phone. All of a sudden you head Samuel L Jackson voice reading Go the Fuck to Sleep. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cb0t9TUNLpg

“Seriously Dean?”

“What? They can’t understand and I completely agree with it.”

Much to your surprise the twins were starting to doze back off. If this actually worked, you weren’t sure if Dean would let you hear the end of it. This was the quickest they calmed down for you, and also the start of hearing this every night for the next four months.

Things weren’t always perfect, but they were perfect for you. You had an incredible husband who always supported you and two wonderful kids who would keep you both on your toes. No matter what happened good or bad you and Dean were in this together.

Thank you for reading! For now this store is complete.

Tag list @talesmaniac89 @deanwanddamons @flamencodiva @whatareyousearchingfordean @winchest09 @waywardbeanie @emoryhemsworth @katehuntington @malfoysqueen14 @anathewierdo @superfanficnatural @akshi8278 @sandlee44

#supernatural #dean x reader #dean winchester

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ft-dads-au · 3 years

Text

Spellbound - Chapter 3

A collaboration by @mdelpin and @oryu404

AO3 | Prev: Ch 2

Chapter 3

October 14, 2012

Ever since Sting had accepted his impulsive invitation to study for the upcoming midterms at his house, Rogue had felt like time had slowed to a crawl. Not even his gig in Clover the previous evening had done anything to curb that feeling. And now that the time had finally come, all his excitement seemed to have turned into an insecurity he wasn’t familiar with.

He knew that most of their time together would be spent studying for exams, but he couldn’t help the hope that something more might develop in the moments in between. It certainly didn’t hurt to make an effort. But what if his neatness drove Sting crazy? Or he managed to insult him somehow? Or Gods, what if he’d been reading the signals all wrong, and he ended up throwing himself at the guy only to find he wasn’t interested? He’d had plenty of chances to kiss him and had taken exactly zero of them.

He’d worked himself up the whole drive down to the University.

By the time Sting got into the car, Rogue was a tangle of nerves. They spent the ride home discussing which midterms they would be studying for and agreeing to relax for the remainder of the day before they got started. While the thought of starting off their week together with a lazy Sunday was precisely the type of thing he’d been hoping for, it also put pressure on him to have everything go right.

“Thanks again for letting me stay,” Sting huffed as he carried his duffel bag and oversized, filled to the brim backpack into the house, refusing Rogue’s offer to help.

“Yeah, no problem,” Rogue tossed his keys on the kitchen counter. Feeling suddenly shy and not wanting to show it, he led Sting to Gray’s old room so he could drop off his stuff.

Sting followed him, dumping his bags unceremoniously on the bed and looking around with curious eyes. “That’s your brother, right?” Sting asked, pointing at a family picture that was hanging on the wall. “I feel like I’ve seen him before.”

“You probably have. He’s been working as a model for a few years now.”

“He looks a lot like your dad,” Sting remarked before shifting his scrutiny to the collection of medals and trophies Gray had accumulated since he’d first started playing hockey.

“How about you? Do you have any siblings?” Rogue asked, scrambling for any conversation topic that might ease him out of his timidity.

“Nah, it’s just me. So, do you play too?” Sting eyed him with interest.

“For fun, but you won’t find any trophies in my room. That was Gray’s thing.” Rogue chuckled, “I just like to skate.”

When he was younger, he’d considered giving competitive figure skating a go. His dad had even supported the idea, spending hours building a rink in the backyard together with him and Gray so he wouldn’t have to drive them to the local one as often. It had been grueling work to get the hang of the moves, and while Rogue had been good at it, he’d eventually discovered things he loved more.

“I do have a nice keepsake from my hockey days, though,” he grinned, rubbing his finger over the scar that crossed the bridge of his nose.

“Oh, wow! That must have hurt,” Sting moved closer to examine his nose, wrapping him in the smell of that enticing cologne of which Rogue still hadn’t discovered the name. “Yeah...” Rogue answered absently, paying more attention to the way Sting’s lips moved when he spoke than he did to the words that came out. They were temptingly close. All he had to do was lean over and kiss them, but just when he’d been about to close the remaining gap between them, Sting had already moved away.

“Hey, you got anything to eat around here?” Sting asked, leaving Rogue to stare at him in confusion.

“Oh, right,” he blinked himself back to reality, “I put off grocery shopping until you got here, wasn’t sure what you’d like.”

“Oh, that’s great! I’ve only been to the convenience store near the dorm. I can’t wait to see what a big Magnolian grocery store has to offer!”

“Well, at least one of us is excited,” Rogue muttered, amused at fielding question after question on a place he usually tried to avoid. It gave him an idea, though. That adage about the way to a man’s heart being through his stomach could work to his advantage here.

True, he couldn’t cook worth a damn, but surely there must be something he could pull off to impress Sting. 0-0

The trip to the grocery store was certainly memorable. Sting had walked through every single aisle, oohing and aahing over items he’d never tried and piling them into their cart. Rogue had finally given up and gotten his own cart, not finding it in his heart to dampen Sting’s enthusiasm.

They’d also gotten plenty of looks from other shoppers, which Rogue had done his best to ignore. He hadn’t come up with any great ideas for dinner. Everything he’d considered seemed so involved. That was until he walked past the lobster tank and remembered how disappointed Sting had been when he hadn’t gotten to eat ”Sheldon” at that seafood restaurant.

He was pretty sure you just chucked the things into a pot of boiling water. Sounded easy enough to him. Feeling pleased with his choice, he studied the tank’s contents, searching for the two largest lobsters he could find, knowing both of them ate a lot.

Once he’d identified the ones he wanted, he went off in search of an employee.

0-0

Rogue had managed to keep the contents of the cooler a secret. It wasn’t all that difficult considering the amount of bags in the trunk. He was more concerned about where they were going to store all the food they’d bought. At least it was cold enough that they could leave the drinks out on the porch.

Not that he should have worried, Sting kept picking items out of the bags and shoving them in his mouth, making pleased noises that were driving Rogue crazy.

“Mhmmmmmm, these are amazing! Want some?” Sting waved a bag of onion-flavored rings under his nose.

Rogue grabbed a couple, realizing he hadn’t had them for years. “Oh man, I used to love these. I didn’t know they still made them.”

Sting finally noticed the cooler when it moved slightly from its perch on the counter. “What’s in there?”

“Oh, that?” Rogue replied evenly, feigning indifference, “Just something I picked up. I thought I might try cooking dinner tonight.”

Sting arched an eyebrow and promptly removed the lid, peering in at the contents. “You got lobsters?”

“Yeah, it seemed like you liked them,” Rogue shrugged, finding spots for the rest of the groceries.

“I do! My mom makes really good Lobster Thermidor.”

Well, fuck. What the hell was lobster...whatever Sting said? It sounded a lot fancier than Rogue’s idea of boiling the shits like a pack of instant-ramen, not to mention the fact that he’d set himself up to compete against Sting’s mother’s cooking. He didn’t know a thing about the woman, but he’d bet his life that she was a better cook than he was.

“Those are big fellas. Oh, wait,” Sting had picked up one of the lobsters to examine it, “I think this one might be a Sheila.”

“How can you tell?”

“Oh, uhm,” Sting chuckled, sounding embarrassed, “when I was younger, I wanted to be a marine biologist. My parents would take me to the aquarium whenever they could, and I learned a lot. Pretty lame, huh?”

“Not at all. I mean, if you want to talk lame, I wanted to be a figure skater at one point,” he confessed, encouraged by Sting sharing that with him. “So which one's Sheldon and which one's Sheila?”

Rogue listened with interest as Sting pointed at the tails’ subtle differences and revealed what they meant. Once the explanation was over, Sting glanced at the pot that sat on the stove.

“You’re going to need a larger pot to boil these.”

“Right.” Challenge number one, where the heck did his mom keep the big pots? Rogue opened the cabinets, searching for anything bigger than the one he used to boil pasta.

“I’ll be right back,” he went to the basement, remembering his mother sometimes sent him there to find appliances she didn’t use all the time, and heaving a sigh of relief when he saw a pot big enough to bathe in. Okay, maybe not quite that big, but it should be enough for two lobsters.

And while he was down there, he took the opportunity to do a quick google search on how to cook lobster thermostat. Thermidor. Whatever. It turned out that it would involve cooking as well as broiling, which was even worse than he’d imagined, and the long list of ingredients wasn’t exactly reassuring either. But it was that list that turned out to be his saving grace, as he was sure he didn’t have everything on it. Oh no, such a shame, he smirked to himself as he continued to look for a less intimidating lobster recipe.

“Everything okay down there?”

Crap!

“Yeah, found one,” Rogue called out, putting his phone away and lugging his discovery up the stairs.

He’d washed the pot, filling it with water and as much salt as he dared, and then setting it on the stove to boil. They’d talked about watching a movie after dinner, and Sting had left him in the kitchen while he’d gone to Gray’s room, determined to set up his work area, as he called it, for the next day.

And now, Rogue found himself facing his next challenge. Once the water had come to a rolling boil, he’d grabbed one of the lobsters, ready to plunge it into the pot, when he’d made one fatal mistake. He’d looked into its eyes.

No matter how much he told himself that the thing wasn’t intelligent, he just couldn’t find it in himself to kill it. And as he stared into the eyes of the crustacean he’d condemned to death, Rogue couldn’t help but think of how much simpler his life had been before he’d decided he wanted something more from his relationships.

“What are you doing?”

There was no mistaking the amusement in Sting’s voice, and it both irritated and humiliated him. It had been his bright idea to do this, and he couldn’t even go through with it.

‘“It was staring at me,” he murmured.

Sting chuckled but took pity on him, “Here, I’ll do it.”

He grabbed the lobster and asked for some scissors. He snipped the bands off its claws and lowered it into the pot carefully, repeating the procedure with the second one before placing the lid on the pot. There was an awful noise that followed, making it sound like the lobsters were screaming.

Rogue shuddered.

“Relax, it’s not what it sounds like,” Sting assured him, “Lobsters don’t have lungs or even vocal cords. It’s just air escaping through their shells.” “Whatever. The damn things better taste good,” Rogue pouted, still displeased by the way his plan was failing so far. But hey, the lobsters were boiling away now, and he’d found a cooking time table online, so there wasn’t much that could go wrong from here. “I guess that depends on the sauce or seasoning.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. His face must have mirrored his frustration because once again, he heard the sound of Sting’s laughter. “It doesn’t have to be anything complicated. Oh, actually! We got mac and cheese, right?”

“Mac and cheese? With lobster?”

“Yeah! My mom used to make that for me when I was little. Well, she made it from scratch,” Sting admitted, “but this will be good too!”

By this point, Rogue just wanted to be done with the whole thing, so the idea of at least being able to make something he knew he couldn’t fuck up cheered him immensely. He walked over to the pantry and moved stuff around until he’d found the family size box of mac and cheese they’d bought and set about preparing it.

The timer went off, and he watched as Sting used tongs to take out the lobsters, which had turned a promising shade of bright red. He lay them on a cutting board and let them sit while he searched for a knife.

Rogue turned away as the sounds of Sting removing the meat from the shell revolted him. He busied himself with his task, trying not to think about what was happening.

“Do I have to do anything differently?”

“Nope, just let me know when it’s ready.”

Sting walked to the porch, grabbed two beers, opened them, and handed one over to Rogue, that amused smirk never far from his face. Once the mac and cheese was done, all they had to do was add the lobster meat, top it off with some breadcrumbs, and put it in the oven for a few minutes. In the meantime, Rogue began the process of cleaning the kitchen, pulling a face as he dumped the hollowed out shells in the trash bin and wiped the lobster juices off the counter. Although it wasn’t all that fancy, the dish that came out looked better than any of Rogue’s previous attempts to cook his own food. Not that he felt he had much to be proud of, as he’d mostly just boiled water and made instant mac and cheese, but cooking was definitely a lot less frustrating when he didn’t have to do it alone. Maybe they could cook together again sometime this week, preferably with food that couldn’t scream, move or stare at him. They settled on the couch, and while Rogue was browsing through Netflix, looking for a movie they could watch, he could tell by the moaning sounds that Sting had already dug into his food. “It’s good!” he said with his mouth still half full, “but you know what the best part is?” “Hm?” Rogue took a hesitant first bite, and he had to agree it did taste a lot better than he’d expected. “It’s that from now on, every time I eat lobster, I’ll remember your look of horror.” Sting dissolved into giggles, “I should have taken a picture!”

Rogue tried to glare, but now that it was over, he found himself laughing along. “Alright, but I hope you got a good look cause I am never doing that again. Next time we do this, it’ll be at a restaurant.”

“Deal, as long as we stop at the tank first,” Sting laughed at his pout, and it was arguably the best sound Rogue had ever heard.

He sat back, having found a movie they were both interested in, and feeling more relaxed than he had all day. The realization that Sting hadn’t been against the idea of a next time boosted his confidence enough to let him enjoy the rest of the night and to set him thinking of what he might try next.

A/N: 2020 was a really busy year for us. We participated in a lot of events and as fun as that was we've decided to mostly step away from that for this year. Unfortunately trying to match event prompts kept us from moving forward on stories we'd been planning on for months and we'd like to try setting our own schedule for now.

We've started the year out with a Works in Progress month, in the hopes that we can finish or move along some of our open multis, or one-shots we started but never finished. It will also allow us to work on some of the individual projects we've been ignoring for too long.

We've decided to expand on this story a bit more than we'd originally planned so there will be a few more chapters than we'd anticipated. We hope you enjoy this one!

#fairy tail #ftdadsau #stingue #update #fics

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1iam · 3 years

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ADVANCED MENTAL ALCHEMY “The All Is Mind; The Universe Is Mental.” - The Kybalion

The Universe is the product of an entity of intellect and it is entirely mental. Through scientific research we know that all forms of "matter" are actually energy under law. Also, with the advent of Quantum physics we are just beginning to understand the relationship between consciousness (the observer) and the Universal energy. As stated above, the mind is all, and being all, it has the ability to place its will upon the material Universe (material reality). The Mind is not human but its greatest expression in the mental mechanics of material reality is in the form of Man. A man/woman, is the Mind in flesh. The walking, talking creator of material reality. The Universe that we live in is a mental energy arrangement that responds to the collective mental activity of us all to produce an experience of material reality for the Mind to exercise and entertain itself. At any point of material observation (person), the Mind can awaken from its dream in character personage and exercise its will upon all of material reality (The Universe). The Universe (material reality) is an energy arrangement that is constantly changing and adjusting based upon the mental commands it receives from people, who are basically for lack of a better term, "God in the flesh." The energy of this mental matrix does not obey the rules of time, distance, and matter when making adjustments and changes but it does do its best to stay within the present storyline of material reality so as not to cause the matrix to become meaningless. Probably 99.9% of the time, the changes and adjustments made by the energy matrix are complete and unnoticeable to the unawake human family. But, if you'll just look around right now and consider your daily life so far, I'm sure you can imagine that there is an enormous amount of information under law here and hiccups can occur in the process.

During the week of April 11, 2021 to April 17, 2021 I had a doctors appointment that Monday the 12th that required me to take the day off from my trucking job with CMAC Transportation. The doctors appointment didn't take long and I was actually happy about having the day off because that would leave me with a four day work week. Driving a semi is not an easy job and five day work weeks take a toll on you, so I was happy to have a doctors appointment to excuse one of those days. I had that Monday the 12th off but my boss (Rich) at the CMAC account where I work informed me that week that he needed me to work on Saturday, April 17, 2021. I'm all about making the company and our customers as successful as possible. I didn't want to work the Saturday, but they needed me and I was there. It turned my four day work week back into a five day work week with only Sunday the 18th before Monday again and at least another 5 day work week. That stuck with me in my mind! I worked Saturday the 17th of April, carried a load of WestRock cartons to Kelloggs in Battlecreek, MI. I started at 6:00 AM, got my paperwork, logged into the Qualcomm in my tractor, called dispatch for a load number and logged that into the Qualcomm. I did a pretrip inspection on my tractor and logged it into the Qualcomm. You know, the whole nine! The GPS on the Qualcomm was logging my whole trip. When I got to Kelloggs I signed a gate pass and went and got signatures for the load from the receiving department. I drove back to Brownstown MI with the Qualcomm logging my trip the whole way. I did a post trip inspection of my vehicle, certified the day and logged out of the Qualcomm. I turned in signed paperwork at WestRock insuring that the load was received in Battlecreek in good condition. I went home. It wasn't a long day, I was done by 1:00 PM.

I had an appointment at the Secretary Of State office to have my driver's license renewed on April 27, 2021. My license expires on my birthday in July this year. Because of the pandemic I got an early appointment. If I missed my April appointment the next opening was in October! I notified CMAC Transportation of that and of course, they gave me the day off to go and handle my CDL-A situation. I was happy about that because it wouldn't take that long and it turned my five day work week into a four day work week. I went and handled that business on Tuesday, April 27, 2021 and had a great day off from work. Near the end of the work week, my boss at WestRock, Rich, notified me that he really needed me to work Saturday the 1st of May. In my mind, I'm like "All hell naw! That's blowing my four day work week!" Of course, I'm about being of value to the company and the customer. They will never regret hiring me. All I said was "Yes Sir, I'll see you in the morning." But, in my mind, I'm thinking I see how they're going to play me, every time I get a day off during the week they're going to work me on Saturday. Anyway, I worked Saturday the 1st of May as well. But these two Saturdays are in my mind because I worked them and they blew my four day work weeks. When the April 11, 2021 to April 17, 2021 pay period came around, guess what? Saturday, April 17, 2021 wasn't in my pay! Okay, okay, they slipped up, it can happen. I'll just call CMAC Transportation and notify them that they missed paying me for Saturday April the 17th, no problem, right? WRONG! CMAC notifies me that they have no record of me working Saturday, April 17th. Now, not only was my four day work week screwed up, but CMAC is telling me I didn't work on Saturday April the 17th and they're not paying me. At this point, in my mind, I'm like, "Hey! You got me fu*ked up!" I tell CMAC Transportation to go back to April 17, pull up my truck number and the Qualcomm record of the whole day, logged as me, the driver, working! CMAC Transportation tells me that they have no Qualcomm records, nothing that says I worked on Saturday April the 17th. Okay, at this point, I'm thinking, obviously, CMAC is another sleazy trucking company trying to rip me off and I'm done! I don't let companies, people, nobody mistreat me and just move along as though nothing happened. I told my wife, Debbie, that I was going to resign from CMAC Transportation. Debbie talked to me about the trucking profession, trucking companies and how unethical they have been all around. She said, if you're going to be a company driver, you can't run every time they screw you. She was right, but at the same time, I just couldn't eat them screwing me out of my Saturday pay as though nothing happened. As a happy medium between my wife Debbie and myself, I didn't resign CMAC Transportation but I did notify CMAC that I was done working Saturday's until they paid me for working Saturday, April the 17th. Now, wherever that led was up to them, but I keep my word. We started going back and forth about me not working any more Saturdays with text messages and an administration person named Tiffany was attempting to help me understand that they have no record of me working that day and if I did work that day, I must have done so without logging into the Qualcomm. She insinuated I was just driving the truck without taking care of any business and the truck itself never reported unauthorized driving that day, which is totally ridiculous and even insulting to me, being the professional driver that I am. My boss at the CMAC WestRock account, Rich, said he remembered me working that day but he was kind of hazy about it. Rich is very busy everyday and the day in question was almost three weeks back, so he didn't seem absolute about it like I was. Rich said he would try and get me paid for that Saturday, even though there was absolutely no record of me working that Saturday according to CMAC Transportation. Long story short, WestRock and CMAC Transportation valued my service and respected me as a driver so much that they paid me for Saturday April the 17th, 2021 even though they say they have absolutely no record of me ever working that day. I want WestRock and CMAC Transportation to know that I am truly honored by that. I do understand pay procedures and processes and how difficult it is to pay with no record of what you're paying for. The pay was a respect thing and I'm honored by that. A few days ago Google send me an email with my April Timeline recorded. This is a GPS Timeline that tracks the movement of my cellphone everyday, all day. Finally, I would have proof that I went to Battlecreek MI on Saturday April 17, 2021. I opened the email and rushed to that Saturday and boom! There was no record of me going to Battlecreek MI on Saturday April 17,2021. Only then, did I realize that the energy matrix had made a change that was incomplete. The matrix flipped my Saturday in every way except my memory. By leaving the Saturday worked in my memory, it created a conflict that could have cost me my job had WestRock and CMAC Transportation not been so generous. Rarely does the energy matrix miss a detail when making changes and adjustments but it does happen from time to time. CMAC Transportation not having any record of the Saturday should have tipped me off, but this rarely happens and the Google Timeline made me aware of it.

I did list some other examples of energy matrix slip ups in my Teachable course on Mental Manifestation. Thanks for listening. The experience was enjoyable when I think about it. It took me through a range of different emotions and was worth the observation. https://mental-manifestation-school.teachable.com/

#wakethegod #amorc #rosicrucianism #tumblr #cmactransportation westrock

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everwitch-magiks · 3 years

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dance with somebody (ch. 18)

start from ch. 1 | back to ch. 17

It’s a quiet evening in January, when everything changes.

Whiskey has just come back from his run and is met by a familiar yet unusual smell as he steps inside the Haus. It’s cumin and garlic, pork and definitely chili… Whiskey frowns. It can’t be. Really, it can’t. He makes his way into the kitchen, almost hesitantly.

Except, it is.

Miguel is at the kitchen table, speaking with a patient tone as he guides an unusually focused Hops through the steps of properly folding tamales. It was only last week that Whiskey learned the method and terminology, himself, when Miguel had shown him the process in the cramped kitchen of his new apartment. There’s two pots on the stove, and something's already in the oven – garlic bread, if Whiskey isn't entirely mistaken. Huh.

Both Hops and Miguel look up when Whiskey enters.

“Hey, there." Miguel smiles. He makes a small, somewhat helpless gesture around the room in general, as if to say I wasn't expecting this, either or perhaps even this isn't actually my fault. “Dinner’s on the way.”

“Whiskey!” Hops exclaims giddily. “I’m cooking!”

“I can see that,” Whiskey says carefully.

He’s more than a little bit surprised. Miguel comes and goes almost as frequently as some of the members of the team, these days, so it’s not completely unheard of that he’d be at the Haus before Whiskey. Still, Whiskey didn’t expect Miguel to have made himself quite this comfortable in the Haus kitchen. Especially since they’ve been making such an effort to keep things very low-key.

“Oh, Whisk, have you met Miguel?” Hops suddenly asks, completely sincere. “He’s Tango’s friend. And a kitchen genius, obviously.”

“Oh my God,” Miguel says, very quietly.

Whiskey wants to laugh. He wants to laugh so badly. He forgets, sometimes, how the world can be so stubbornly determined to see nothing but heterosexuality all around.

“No, we’ve met,” Whiskey finally says, probably more than five seconds too late, but at least he keeps most of his composure. “Actually, we had a class together last semester.”

"Oh, that's 'swasome." Hops grins, blissfully oblivious. "Me and Tango have decided Miguel can use the Haus kitchen anytime, so you might be seeing a lot more of each other."

"I suppose that's fine," Whiskey says dryly. Miguel stifles a laugh. "Do you guys need any help?"

“I think we’re fine,” Miguel says brightly. “Actually, Whiskey, isn’t that your phone on the table? It’s been buzzing non-stop for a while, now.”

Miguel is right – it is his phone. Whiskey picks it up. He’s got seven missed calls, all from an unknown number. Huh. Just as he pulls up his browser to google it, his phone starts ringing again.

“I’d better take this.” Whiskey is already leaving the kitchen. “Save me some garlic bread, okay?”

“You got it!”

He’s making his way up the stairs as he takes the call.

“It’s Connor.”

“Oh, there you are.” The pleasant voice on the other end of the line is only vaguely familiar. “Connor, this is Emily Larsen. We met briefly a couple of months ago at one of your home games. Is this a good time? I’ve actually got a few different things to cover.”

Emily Larsen… Right. That Emily Larsen. The Houston Aeros.

Wait. Seven missed calls?

“It’s nice to hear from you,” Whiskey says carefully. He enters his bedroom and closes the door firmly. “Now is fine. I’ve got time.”

“Good, good.” Emily pauses for a moment. “This is kind of going to be a lot, okay? Just let me talk for a bit, first. I promise I’ll try to answer all of your questions later.”

She doesn’t give him the chance to respond before she launches right into it.

It is a lot, Whiskey thinks dizzily, and paying proper attention soon turns out to be something of a challenge. Mostly because every impossible thing Emily tells him seems more impossible than the one before. Several ill-timed injuries, which means we have an unexpected opening, Emily says, and Whiskey’s heartbeat quickens. A make or break situation where we need to act fast, Emily says, and Whiskey finds that he needs to sit down. We'd like to get you down in time for tomorrow’s practice, Emily says, and Whiskey has to remind himself to breathe.

“Tomorrow,” he manages to cut in, the single word costing him an unbelievable effort. “That’s… That’s really soon.”

“We have our next game on Tuesday, next week,” Emily explains efficiently. “We would need to have you on the ice with our guys as much as possible, before then.”

“Okay,” Whiskey says faintly. “I, uh. I have a pop quiz tomorrow.”

It’s probably a pretty fucking stupid thing to say, but Whiskey can’t actually bring himself to care very much right now. His mind is still spinning rapidly.

“Look,” Emily says. Her voice has softened, just slightly. “If you’re going to sign with us, you won’t be having a lot of pop quizzes in the near future. You’re going to need to drop out.”

“Right,” Whiskey says. He forces himself to take a steadying breath. “No, I get that. It’s just all very sudden. Is there any chance I could have some time to consider?”

Emily is quiet for a brief moment.

“This is a really big opportunity, Connor,” she says firmly. “We need someone to come down as soon as possible – yesterday, preferably. I can’t hold this door open for very long.”

“I understand that,” Whiskey tells her. And really, he does. It’s just… Whiskey gives himself a second, let’s himself just look around his room for a moment. His eyes linger at the Samwell banner he’s got pinned to the wall and the framed picture of the team that sits on his desk. Somehow, it all calms him down enough to help him hold his ground. “But I’m still going to need more than a couple of hours to make a decision like this. If you can’t accommodate that, then I’m afraid I’m not going to be able to accept.”

There’s another period of silence from Emily, except this time it’s not quite silent. A faint noise can be heard at the other end of the line, almost as if Emily has covered her phone with her hand and is exchanging a few words with someone else.

“Alright,” Emily says, more than a few moments later. “How about this. We fly you down tomorrow, you join us for practice for the rest of the week, but you don’t actually decide whether to sign with us or not until Sunday. We can get you back to Samwell over the weekend so you can take care of any unfinished business, but by Monday you’ll relocate permanently. First game on Tuesday.”

Whiskey bites his lower lip. It’s still impossibly fast, but at least it’s slightly better. And Emily is right – this is a really big opportunity. In many ways, it’s actually exactly what Whiskey has been hoping for all this time.

“Yeah,” Whiskey hears himself say. “That works.”

They wrap up the call soon after. Emily says she’ll send him his flight details, plus a check-list of things to pack. Whiskey remembers to thank her for her time, and for the opportunity. When they hang up, he’s almost convinced himself that he’s not freaking out about this.

As soon as Miguel steps into his room, that illusion shatters.

“I swear,” Miguel says cheerfully, “I give Tango one helping of leftover tamales, and suddenly the whole Haus wants in. Can you even believe…”

He quiets. Evidently, he’s registered the look on Whiskey’s face.

“Hey,” Miguel continues softly. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s... I’ve just, uh.”

Whiskey tries to breathe. God. He thought it wouldn't be like this, at least not yet. He thought he still had time.

Apparently, he was so wrong.

It is what it is, though. And it's not like they didn’t both know this was going to happen eventually. It's just sooner, rather than later. And it's a good thing. It should be exactly what Whiskey wants.

Whiskey finally manages to take a breath. It almost feels better. And anyway, he literally doesn't have time for even a minor breakdown, right now.

He needs to get a fucking grip.

“I’m leaving for Houston, in the morning.”

ch. 19

#check please #omgcheckplease #omgcp #connor whisk #hops #... what even is hops name #OC: Miguel #whiskey x oc #a somewhat unexpected situation #here we go #dance with somebody #fanfiction #evie writes

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lazywitchling · 4 years

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Dabbler’s Week - research proposal edition

I say “Research proposal” because this isn’t so much going to be what I’d ACTUALLY use as a guide, it’s just the STRUCTURE I’d use to write the guide, and why I chose what I did. For a little background on what the hell is going on, see @asksecularwitch‘s post here.

Monday - Spellwork

What: A simple candle-and-petition-paper spell. Dabbler chooses what they want, but with the instruction that it is straightforward, specific, and tangible. The Drake-Meme format would be: “I want to increase my wealth” ✋ - “I want ten bucks in the coming week” 👈 The spell is written out exactly as performed, really hand-holdy, Do This, Then This, Next This, Finally This.

Why: Look, if I were brand new and gonna pick a “dabble in witchcraft for a week” thing, I’d want to start out doing some effin’ witchcraft. So we’ll start with casting a spell. It’s written super hand-holdy because at the beginning, you really just want some step-by-step instructions on what to do. Also a week is a good time frame to give a spell, and casting it at the beginning gives it a chance to manifest by the end of the week. And FURTHERMORE, it’s a surprise tool that will help us later...

Tuesday - Cleansing a Space

What: Dabbler picks out a space to cleanse, told that the space they choose will be made into a sacred space tomorrow. They will play music of their choosing (with a few suggestions to get them started, just so nobody’s floundering, aka “relaxing yoga music, or something loud and peppy, your favorite childhood song, a meme song that makes you laugh, etc.”) while they also mundanely clean the space.

Why: Cleansing is one of those Cornerstone Witchy Things that everyone talks about offhandedly, like “cleanse your space after this spell”, and giving the Dabbler a simple way of doing that is a good first tool to have in their bag. Music is freely available, and it’s customizable, and playing music while doing a mundane cleaning associates the Magical Cleaning with the Mundane Cleaning in their mind, so they get a sense of “clean vibes” as related to “clean space”. Sidenote: the space can be a shelf, a box, a corner of the room, whatever. Might have some notes in there about other things they can add to their cleansing, like the usual magical washes or sprays, lighting a candle, or whatever. Nothing too complicated at this point, though, we’re still taking baby steps.

Wednesday - Creating a Sacred Space

What: The Dabbler picks out items they already have on hand to create a sacred space in the area that was cleansed the day before (the shelf, box, corner, whatever). Sacred here meaning “Set apart; special”, not necessarily “holy; religious”. Dabbler is encouraged to decorate and arrange things until they feel it has the proper vibe.

Why: This is to encourage the Dabbler to think about the mundane things around their own home, and how those things can be magical just by Deciding That They Are. The idea is not necessarily to create an Altar, though it can also work as practice for that should the Dabbler later choose to have one. In my own practice, I don’t have a permanent Sacred Space, because it doesn’t really fit what I do or how I live. But I tried making some when I first started, and I think it was an important learning point. Now, when I feel that I DO need a sacred space, I’m able to whip one up with whatever is around, and I think that’s a great skill to have. It’s helpful to know and feel what “Sacred” or “Special” feels like to the individual, what it takes for you to really vibe with a space or setting. My spaces are more about reining in my hyperactive brain and creating a boundary for it to focus on, not about creating a holy circle of ground, but I know what that distinction feels like BECAUSE of the times I dabbled in creating sacred spaces. This is when your brain gets to learn what It’s Witchin’ Time feels like.

Thursday - Herbal Correspondences

What: The Dabbler goes to their own kitchen or garden and picks out three spices, herbs, and/or flowers (that they 100% know what they are). At this point, it isn’t necessary to actually gather them, just to write down what is easily accessible at that moment. They then check out the Wikipedia article on their chosen herbs, and build their own correspondence list from that article.

Why: “Whoa whoa whoa, Jes, why are you suggesting Wikipedia??” Oh easy. Because it’s accessible, it’s free, and it’s not witchy. Wikipedia gets a bad rap as a resource for a variety of reasons, but for what it does, it does well. It’s an encyclopedia, so it is by nature a surfacey resource. That’s okay. That’s all we need right now. Instead of googling magical correspondences of cinnamon and finding 1000+ lists that all copied from a copy of a copy of a copy of Crowley and then not knowing WHY that thing has that correspondence, the Dabbler is going to learn to make their own by starting a (very basic) relationship with that herb. Example: I was trying to research magical correspondences of base oils, but everything I found was one-word answers, most of which was “fertility”. Which was... entirely not helpful. So I set out to make my own. Specific example: I looked into castor oil (according to “magickal” sources, it’s correspondence is simply “protection”), but my mundane research taught me that it’s been used for hydraulic and brake fluids, used in food preservation, sold as a laxative, and historically has been used as torture and humiliation (with the laxative effect, I’m sure you can figure out exactly how). Well NOW we’re getting somewhere, because now I associate it with “getting things moving”, whether in a negative or positive way. Having the Dabbler learn to do mundane research like this helps strengthen their relationship with what they use, teaches them that they can research their own materials without needing another Witch (or an Amazon Lisa) to do it for them, and teaches them that they can use what they have on hand rather than consulting a magical list of things they don’t have and wondering where the hell they’re supposed to buy white willow bark.

Friday - Divination

What: The Dabbler will gather small trinkets that they already have and collect them in a box or bag. They then ask questions (possibly with the aid of a list of suggested questions?) and draw a trinket (or cast a couple, if they’re feeling adventurous!) and interpret.

Why: I love Tarot as much as the next witch, but it’s not always practical for the starting witch. And in my experience, I can be dragged just as hard by my trinkets as I can by my traditional tarot decks. Gathering trinkets is (again, as you’re starting to see a theme, I hope) a way to use what is already on hand. And after the Wikipedia exercise from the previous day, the Dabbler should have a little bit of practice in thinking about associations. The action figure their nephew left at their house can mean “lost” but it can also mean “found”, or it’s Spiderman and means “responsibility” or Wonder Woman means “truth”, etc.

Saturday - Crafting a Charm

What: The Dabbler will create a simple charm (most likely a protective one, but I’m not married to the idea). They’ll use their own skills to hand make something tangible, however simple it may be. Could be crafting a keychain using their beading skills, or embroidering a small design onto their jeans pocket, or as simple as wrapping a colored thread around a ring they wear. Whatever it is, it will be a thing that they make with their hands.

Why: We’re falling away from the railroad guidelines at this point in the week, and encouraging the Dabbler to start thinking on their own about what they can do. There’s still suggestions so they don’t get totally lost, but it’s far less hand-holdy than the first spell of the week. With two whole exercises about thinking through associations of things, hopefully they can start to come to conclusions on their own (”You know, I think I’ll hang a safety pin from the keychain, because that just Feels Right to me” or “This string should be blue, because that’s the color of my protective gloves at work”). And the second purpose of the charm is... it’s a tangible thing. It’s a souvenir. If at the end of the week the Dabbler decides that they had fun but witchcraft isn’t for them, cool. But maybe three years down the line, they find that keychain they made during Witch Camp Week, and they think “Oh hey, I remember doing that...” and perhaps it comes to them at exactly the time they need it and they decide to pick it up again. (Or they find it and go “lol that wasn’t for me” and chuck it in the trash. Failure is always an option!)

Sunday - Spellwork Redux

What: Get in losers, we’re casting the same spell again. Well, not the SAME spell, but the same sort. That candle spell from the beginning of the week? The Dabbler will now repeat it with similar purpose. BUT, this time they are to modify the spell somehow. Even less guidelines here now. Maybe they want to perform the spell in their sacred space. Maybe they want to cleanse before performing it. Maybe they want to sprinkle some herbs on the candle, or steep some herbs in hot water and use a brush to write on the paper. Whatever they do is theirs to decide.

Why: EXPERIMENTATION. Really, how often do any of us see a cool spell and then perform it EXACTLY AS WRITTEN? I don’t know about you, but I always always always have to modify it somehow, whether it’s to fit what I have, fit my paradigm, or just because personalization is important in my craft. Redoing the spell with a little bit of tweaking means the Dabbler gets to close off the week with a little more of that Witches Casting Spells stuff that they probably expected, but with a chance to see how they can change it now, how they can make it more suited to them, or how they think it might work better. Maybe it will work better. Maybe it will be worse. Either way is a result.

Conclusion - or the TL;DR

Guidelines at the beginning of the week, transitioning to more creative freedom by the end of the week. Heavy encouragement of using what’s freely on hand and easily accessible, rather than buying specialty materials that may or may not be helpful or ever used again (not to mention could be hella expensive). Some spells, because let’s be honest, some people just really really want the spellz. And mundane research, because it’s too often neglected even among the veteran witches.

#long post #dabbler's week #asksecularwitch

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