#donna do deer

[pembrokewkorgi]

Donna Doe Deer

Meet Donna. She's a reindeer, she drives a motorcycle, and she really likes to flirt. What do you think of her?

Posted using PostyBirb

[spinostarz]

why are deer mentioned so so many times throughout the secret history?

[pseudowho]

Monster

Your colleague, Higuruma Hiromi, has seemed so tired, for so long. You'd do anything to help him...right?

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Vampire!Higuruma, blood consumption, male masturbation, female masturbation, thigh fucking, PIV, m!receiving oral, f!receiving oral, sex-pollenish/aphrodisiac effects and vampirism

(dis)honourable mention to @delirious-donna for helping me to decide on the location of this flagrant sluttiness.

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Higuruma Hiromi was driven to skin-clawing distraction by daydreams of the taste of you, in more ways than one.

You never knew this, of course. Late-nights alone in the office invariably turned into debauched scenes of Hiromi, fucking into his fist and wishing it was your pussy instead; teeth piercing his own blood from his hand and being lapped up by his whining mouth, wishing it was your throat instead. Too many times had he needed to wipe droplets of blood and milky cum off his paperwork, shuddering with the remnants of his orgasm, his cock still semi-hard in his fist.

His latest cunning plan to sate this desperate hunger, had been unsuccessful. Sat at your desk, and breathing deeply of one of the scarves you had left in your drawer, had set his cock hardening against his thigh humiliatingly fast. Hiromi had tugged at the roots of his own hair, head thrown back and growling in frustration. Fumbling around in his bag, he had clumsily slopped lube into a pocket-pussy, and withdrawn the unit of packed red blood cells he had managed to steal from the local hospital.

Messy, and sweaty, Hiromi had drunk from this pack, while the slick sounds of his frantic self-pleasuring and fractured, sandy moans filled the empty office. Your scarf, steeped in the smell of you, remained draped over his face and nose the whole time.

With each passing day you grew sweeter, and riper. He could not cope. He could not cope. He would not last.

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One day, you hoped, you might arrive in the office before Hiromi. Whatever the time of year, he arrived before the break of dawn, and left after the sun had set. Vitamin D supplements had entered into your head as the next possible way to help him, and you shook yourself for being so ridiculous-- although...

"I...you don't have to buy me coffee every morning," Hiromi whispered, something tender coiling in his belly when you slipped a large black coffee and a bagged pastry onto his desk, "let alone breakfast."

"Well," you hummed, benign, "would you eat or drink if I didn't feed you?" Hiromi narrowed his eyes, a challenging little smile within them. A scoff.

"If I lied to you, would you believe me?"

"You're a great lawyer, Hiromi. But not smart enough to lie to me."

His laughter, rich and genuine, burst in you, a stunning puff of petals. You couldn't laugh with him, as your heart stalled in place. How could you not help him, when a match struck in his eyes, just from looking at you?

"Not that I ever would." Hiromi assured, low and smooth. His eyes never left yours once. His gravity threatened to pull you straight into his arms. "Lie to you, that is. You're the only thing that..." Hiromi trailed off, clearing his throat. He looked back to his papers, pale. You missed the tremor in his hands. You couldn't feel how he held himself back from taking you, in every way, here on his desk.

If only he knew you would let him.

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How the fuck did he find himself in the driving rain, three floors up, looking through your balcony windows? How the fuck had it gotten this bad? You were a drug. Forbidden fruit. Hiromi had not drunk from a person in so long, instead surviving on a knife's edge, from stolen blood bags and wild deer. He couldn't recall what came first; needing to be inside you, or needing you inside him. It all equated to hunger, anyway. He was starved.

Even a morsel would do. That's how he found himself outside your bedroom, in a storm, watching you fuck yourself in your bedroom when you should have been sleeping. The rainwater seeped through his black suit, doing nothing to cool the hot, velvet throb between his legs. His hair was swept back off his forehead, drenched, squinting against the biting wind as he marvelled at the image of you.

Clearly, you were unable to distract yourself from the ache in your belly, and the little memories of past orgasms that throbbed through your clit. Every time the thought of Hiromi fucking into you had crossed your mind, you reached for something in your drawer that would never satisfy that urge like he would.

You lay on your belly, stretched and stuffed all the way to your cervix with a dildo and rabbit. You had spent your generous paycheck on an expensive toy, one that thrusted. You knew, deep down, humping the dildo inside you with a pillow between your legs, that it would never be able to replicate the real thing. You felt the blunt little punch of the mechanical dildo against your belly, fucking it into you, as if it would soothe your spiritual famine. Your pleasure was dulled, without the accompanying tenderness of the man that you wanted...needed.

You wore an oversized t-shirt, and nothing else, and Hiromi watched how your back arched and undulated, rolling your cunt against the pillow. You gripped another pillow between your arms, biting into it, mewling at the deliciousness of being filled with something, anything. Hiromi's animalistic senses could hear your little cries, and the muffled buzz of your toys. He could smell the silky arousal that spilled out around your dildo. He could taste you on the air, almost.

It took every ounce of self-restraint not to allow his inhuman strength to take over, punch a hole through the glass and step in, silhouetted against the moonlight. Hiromi would allow his own musk, a curious trap in the art of seduction and predation, to seep over you. Hiromi would watch as you became pliable, supple. You wouldn't fight as he shushed you, pulling the dildo from you and licking it clean. You would whimper for him to replace the emptiness he had left behind, and he would, of course, oblige you. He would press you down by the back of your neck, as if you would ever resist him, and promise you that it wouldn't hurt. He would drink down your cries and your blood as he fucked you down against the sheets, his mouth lapping so fervently at your throat.

He hadn't even noticed how close to his own peak he had come, but as you tensed and keened against your pillow, he felt the dangerous tug of his balls tightening against the base of his cock. He wasn't even touching himself, how could he possibly--

"...H-Hiromi...haaaaah please please fuck me please...oooooohhhh 'm cumming--"

Hiromi came with a shout, with next to no warning, to hear you cry out his name. He convulsed, hunched and doubled-over, cursing and feeling thick ropes of his seed pulse through his jerking cock, diluting with rainwater and trickling down his thighs. He was stunned, panting against the glass, and he nearly swallowed his own heart when he heard the rustle of sheets, and a timid little voice pipe through the dark.

"Hello? Who's there?"

By the time you had pulled the dildo from yourself with a shiver, and opened the balcony door, there was nothing left behind but the churning storm. Clinging to the underside of your balcony, still panting and covered in his own cum, Hiromi knew that something deep within him had fractured completely.

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You were astounded to find yourself alone in the office as the sun set. Hiromi had left before you, with a sickly-looking smile, and a languid wave of that long, pale hand. While you were thrilled that he was going home at a normal time, you couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment. He knew you were staying to work late on a case...and had, apparently, chosen this one night to leave before nightfall.

Night had, indeed, fallen fast. The sunset blotted out quickly behind grey rolling clouds. Another storm swept in, dragging the night along with it. You opened a window, seeking the earthy petrichor to balm your weary soul. You sunk your lovesickness into a bitter coffee, as if it was enough to replace the lackadaisical cleverness of the man who haunted your every waking moment.

You tried to distract yourself, awash in case notes. The hours dragged, long and lonely. Rubbing your eyes as the clock struck midnight, you stood to collect the key to lock the office, only to find it missing.

"Shit..." you murmured, sitting back at your desk to rummage in the drawers. You rummaged in all the drawers-- your boss's, your colleagues, Hiromi's...

The lights above you went out with a click. One by one, throughout the length of the office, the lights went out, out, out, and you were plunged into darkness. You felt a lick of ice down the nape of your neck, and every hair stood on end. You were being watched.

"Shit...shit... where's the key... where's the fucking key?" You hissed to yourself, terror crawling across your skin.

Hiromi was barely himself anymore as he stalked you from the shadows. His belly was a cavernous pit. The unholy combination of starvation and desire stirred the monster within. He lay in waiting, allowing you to be drawn in, running to him while you thought you were running away.

You had tried every nook, every pigeon hole, every secret hook throughout the office, but fear made you sloppy. You couldn't go home too late, when the streets were empty. Not with all the tales of hungry beasts hunting for lone prey in the night.

Why, then, as you approached the expansive boardroom at the end of the corridor, did you find yourself becoming so...mellow? You felt light, airy. You floated on an otherworldly, heady musk, so alluring. It reminded you of someone...but who? You couldn't remember, so many drinks deep into this odd botanical tonic. It throbbed through you, intoxicating and warm and your heart was beating between your legs by the time you swayed into the boardroom, undoing your hair, loosening the buttons of your blouse--

"...I'm sorry. I can't let you leave."

You blinked, slow and drunk. Frowning as your vision cleared, you saw Hiromi, illuminated by moonlight. He sat in the executive's chair, at the head of the great boardroom table. A flash of lightning set his features in dramatic clarity, his Roman nose casting deep shadows across his profile. Still, you thought, with your little hum or surprise, he looked pale. Tense. Tortured.

"...Hiromi...Hiro..." you whispered, padding over to him, barefoot. You couldn't remember when you had shed your shoes. Hiromi's skin prickled. The way your voice, sweet and breathy, ran straight to his cock, had him biting one finger between gradually lengthening canines, his other fingertips steepled against his deeply frowning forehead.

"...wouldn't leave anyway...not when I've...finally got you all to myself..." You slurred, grinning, a happy drunk. Hiromi couldn't help but bite one lip, smiling back at you, as you sat with a thud on his lap. His deadly, predatory pheromones increased against his will, to feel your soft, plush curves pressed to his lap. Hiromi trailed one arm around your waist. The part of him that screamed for him to stop, was trapped in a glass box in his mind.

"Yeah?" Hiromi whispered, one pale hand cupping your jaw. "You've been wanting me all alone? Tell me." She wants this it's okay it's not a trap she'll help me she'd always help me god she's so beautiful--

"I have. For months. I dream about you." The words left your mouth unbidden, dragged from you by some irresistible force. Hiromi drank them down, needing to hear you confess your desire for him.

"And what do you do?" Hiromi urged, his voice rough with need. "What do you do, when you dream of me? Tell me. Now."

"I touch myself and...and wish it was you, instead." Hiromi shivered.

"Until you cum? To the thought of my cock inside you? Until you're calling out for me?" You nodded, hurried and floppy. Hiromi cursed under his breath, a thumb brushing over your lips, salivating at the memory of you on your bed, crying out his name.

"Yeah," you promised, almost tearful now with the weight of your confessions, "I do, I cum so hard, but it's not enough, it's not the same as-- as--"

You slid a hand up Hiromi's chest, his sloppy tie and partially unbuttoned shirt, and were surprised by how cool he felt. He groaned beneath your touch, and you shivered, turning and pressing your chest to his. Hiromi panted beneath you, his face contorted, barely restrained. His hands felt so strong, trapping you to him by your waist, and you were sure there would be bruises left behind.

"Let me taste you," Hiromi convinced, his voice low and persuasive, "just once...you're going to help me." His fingers tangled in your hair now, angling your face up, and you blinked slowly, dazed and unquestioning. His teeth were sharp, bared. You could feel the length of his cock, throbbing against your belly. The frantic rise and fall of his chest made you feel like you were on a little boat, rocking over waves.

You had barely begun to nod, before he pulled you in for a kiss so deep, your head swam. Hiromi groaned into your mouth, forcing your lips to part with his own, devouring you with bliss and fervour. You had never felt so alive, your little heart beating like hummingbird wings. The taste of him was sinful. He wanted to carve out your soul and tie it to his, enshrined, fit for worship. By the time his tongue had plunged into your mouth, you were loose and supple on his lap.

Every ounce of uncertainty had left you. Just as Hiromi's mouth began to trail across your jaw, towards your neck, your hand slipped beneath his belt. Hiromi's lips released the lovebite he had just made above your pulse point with a pop, and his head flung back against the executive's chair's headrest. The moan that left his lips was more pornographic than you had ever dreamt. His silky foreskin seared beneath your touch.

"--f-fuck, god, I-- squeeze me harde--- oooohh-ooohhh shit...hnnnn--'

Hiromi's hands gripped the armrests, white-knuckled, and the two monsters inside him fought a bloody fight to see you slip to your knees between his own, batting his thighs aside. Your hand had released his cock, and if he didn't have it back again, or your blood in his mouth, he would break.

"Will you help me, or not?" He hissed at you, imploring you to spill your soul to him. Lost in this curious haze, you found yourself unable to refuse him an answer.

"...always help you, Hiromi." You mumbled, your fingers deftly undoing his belt. Your teeth unzipped his trousers, and the way Hiromi blushed when your eyes shot him such a filthy look, made you giggle. Maybe I'm the one in danger, he thought vaguely. You hummed, rubbing the pre-cum wet tip of his freed cock against your lips, glossing them. Hiromi's teeth bared again in a snarl, and he panted, bucking up into your hand. You teased him, stroking his length slowly, rolling his aching balls in one hand. Hiromi was frayed, furious with so many unfulfilled needs. He snapped.

"Open your mouth and let me fuck it or I swear--" Hiromi's uncharacteristic threats broke off into a strangled moan, when you took him into your mouth, hot and wet and all at once. Sucking at the tip, curling your tongue to cup the underside of his cockhead, you let the bobs of your head, and swirls of your tongue run smooth and sloppy.

The very air around you felt steeped in wildflowers, and the bizarre pseudo-alcoholic rush heightened every sensation. Even though there was clearly something very wrong with the man you had lusted after for so long, his taste his moans his fingers in your hair his trembling thrusts into your mouth, felt so right.

"--more tongue...deeper deeper yesssss...good girl, fuck-- f-fuck, good girl...wanna come in your mouth-- swallow it-- swallow me--"

You obliged him, and your consciousness remained dragged just a millisecond after your movements as you sunk your mouth lower, swallowing around his cockhead until your nose brushed his downy black happy-trail, and your throat constricted around his tip. Hiromi felt a slam of pleasure behind his navel as his orgasm hit, everything in him tightening with his release.

Hiromi's cries, so frantic and needy, crescendoed through the boardroom, and you felt cool ropes of cum spurt against the back of your tongue. Hiromi watched you swallow around his jerking cock, certain he must be dreaming the eroticism of this. By the time your dewy eyes opened again to look up at him, his cock still hard against your white-spattered tongue, Hiromi had lost all composure. Something white-hot and terrifying rolled off him, and you pulled away, spit and semen connecting you in a thread to his twitching cockhead. Your heart clenched, suddenly feeling a flicker of fear.

"...Hiromi? What's wrong?" You asked, cautious as you rose, scooting backwards onto the boardroom table and sliding yourself away from him. Hiromi stood, slow and deliberate. Something had changed within him. Every action of his seemed clipped, hyper-efficient and intentional. You felt your heady drunkenness increase, a thick pulse of desire shooting through your core, and you tried to ignore it with a whimper.

A flash of lightning illuminated you both-- for the briefest moment, you swore you could see the shadow of great wings behind Hiromi's lean, predatory form. A rumble of thunder rattled the boardroom. Drifts of rain swept the glass wall.

"...knew you'd work it out in the end." Hiromi cooed, his words licking at you, coaxing you back. "Clever girl. I told you I couldn't let you leave, didn't I?" He began to crawl along the table towards you, seemingly weightless, his movement so fluid-- so inhuman.

"You won't-- you won't kill me." You stated, as much to convince him as yourself. Hiromi swallowed, his pupils dilated, still crawling to catch up with you. As you darted back, he leapt forwards, dragging you to him by your ankle and caging you against the table beneath him. Only then, did you see the turmoil in him.

"I'd never. I could never. I wouldn't, ever." Hiromi spat, beseeching. You softened. He saw how you squirmed beneath him, knew how his hormones had ensnared you, making you desperate. Seeing you clutch your thighs together for relief, your nipples pebbled and almost freed beneath your blouse, Hiromi gulped again.

"I'm so-- so hungry." Hiromi growled, canines sharp against his lower lip, "And I need-- need-- I can make this good...for both of us. I can make you, if I need to, but I-- I'd rather not. Trust me. Please." He did not need to beg or force, when you were already undressing beneath him, as if you hadn't been waiting for him to take you since the first time your name had fallen from his lips.

"I trust you. Just...just...please." You begged now, and Hiromi shuddered, his eyes black as another flash of lightning flashed on his exquisite profile. He watched you, breasts heaving, now in just your bra and underwear. A burst of pheromones from him left you whimpering, your neck stretched to the side. He raised one strong, fine-boned hand to circle your throat, protecting it from himself as his mouth moved down your body.

"...so close already, aren't you? My beauty...best thing I've ever tasted." Hiromi whispered, his lips ghosting over one freed nipple, pre-cum dripping where his cock dragged against your thighs, "Need you sweeter...before I drink you." You whimpered beneath his mouth, suckling on your nipple until you cried out, your hands tangling in his inky, grey-streaked locks of hair. His hand kneaded at your other breast, relishing the softly yielding squish beneath his fingers.

Your thighs parted for just long enough to clamp Hiromi's cock between them, slick with his dripping pre-cum and your arousal. Hiromi gasped, canines grazing against your nipple, and your thighs clamped harder, Hiromi jerking with a cursing groan above you. He rutted spontaneously, sliding his cock between the plush of your thighs with a shaky, prolonged moan. Hiromi stayed this way for a few minutes, lapping and kneading at your breasts, fucking himself between your thighs. His pleasure threatened to peak again, and he hissed, slipping his cock free of the hot glove your thighs had made for him.

"Don't...don't." Hiromi growled, nipping your belly in warning as he slid himself down, shooting you a look to burn. "I'm not cumming on this fucking table, when I could cum inside you." Your breath hitched with the promise, feeling so weightless as Hiromi stripped your underwear from you. He took a moment to admire the glistening petals around your core, before sinking his tongue and nose between them with a moan.

Hiromi didn't allow you to last. Already so close to your peak, Hiromi's essence pulsed through you with your taste on his tongue. You were washed through with a skin-prickling, burning orgasm, plundering through you like wildfire. Hiromi had gripped you, and would not let you go, and with his mouth desperately lapping at your clit, your orgasm simply did not end.

You were a wreck, writhing and twisting and begging, all frantic cries of his name, alternately trying to shove Hiromi's head away and pull him closer. With one particularly hard push against him, Hiromi drew away, and bit onto the soft inside of your thigh in warning. You squealed as he drew blood.

You almost heard his heartbeat stop, enthralled by the droplets of blood running down your thigh. His tongue darted out, capturing them before they hit the table, your blood and arousal mixing on his tongue. You suddenly felt the danger you were in, in the jaws of a god as Hiromi's eyes turned up to you, settling on your neck. His eyes stayed fixed, his mouth puckering around the bite wound on your thigh, sucking just once before sealing the wound with a trembling tongue.

"...I'm going to fuck you, now." Hiromi stated, blunt, in warning, as he crawled back up your body. His cockhead grazed over your folds, and Hiromi grasped himself, lining his cock up with your fluttering core. "And you'll stay still...or I...I can't...you'll get hurt."

You couldn't possibly have refused at this stage. Hiromi was possessed by something stronger than himself, and you yearned to heal the fractured core of him. Grasping your wrists in one of his hands, and pressing them above your head, Hiromi coiled one hand in your hair, tilting your neck to the side.

You felt the insistent press of his cock filling you, as his teeth punctured your skin. You jolted, crying out, and Hiromi snarled against you, gripping you tighter. Hiromi felt the hot, salty, copper tang of your blood flooding his tongue, and his hips took on a life of their own. He slammed into you, again, and again, tasting your delicious little squeaks, bound beneath him with no means of escape. The human core of him was disgusted; the monster relished every second.

Allowing his otherworldly bliss to roll over you again, Hiromi felt you go languid and supple, your pussy clenching involuntarily around the bullying pace of his cockhead against your belly. Breathless moans muffled into your neck, interspersed with his gulps. Hiromi burst with adoration for you, and how well you were taking him. He had never felt so alive.

Hiromi felt your pulse fluttering in your wrists, and, convinced it was growing weaker, released your throat with a whine and a gasp, pressing his tongue against you again to seal the wounds. Hesitating only briefly, Hiromi fucked into you harder, faster, crimson dripping down his chin, dopey and lovesick. His hand tangled in your hair, pressing a bloody kiss to your cheek, feeling his orgasm creep up his back. His fingers plaited with your own above your head.

You were his, completely, happy to be used. The fervent thrust of his blunt, leaking cockhead against your sweet spot, his sandy whispers and gasps-- "...the best fucking medicine...I swear to god-- keep me forever, please, shit-- cum inside you, gonna cum inside you-- fffuck--" -- and the waves of Hiromi's strange, floral aphrodisiac, sent you tumbling over the edge again. Hiromi cursed, moaning, to feel you clench, writhing and arching beneath him, your cries rising in pitch as Hiromi fucked into you with total abandon, mesmerised by you.

"--more more moremoremore please-- Hiromi-- don't stop--"

Hiromi gritted his teeth, drawing himself out for as long as he could. Feeling the pummel and stretch of his cock inside you, slick and wet, set your eyes rolling back. When you bit into Hiromi's shoulder, he broke, buckling onto his elbows with a roar. His second orgasm blinded him, his balls emptying in violent contractions, thick white seed filling your belly and cunt in long, agonisingly pleasurable spurts. Hiromi swore, cursing and convulsing, crushing your body beneath his.

By the time Hiromi's vision returned, he was more human than he'd felt in months, as if giving into the monster was the only thing keeping him at bay. You floated back down to earth with him, feathersoft, on your bed of meadowsweet. A faint blush spread across Hiromi's nose at the sight of you, fucked-out, messy and spread beneath him.

"...I understand we have some important things to talk about," Hiromi said, bizarrely formal for a man whose cock was still inside you, "and I understand if you don't want to see me again after this, so we can organise a public date and time--"

Hiromi's voice muffled, still trying to talk as you pulled him to you by his tie, shutting him up with a kiss.

[atropalugosi]

Played through the Donna good end route on @resident-lover and had to do something with our favourite dollmaker's little flirt about drawing her during work.

So have a little post good end moment between her and my MC with as much awkwardness and gay panicking as should be expected.

"Can I draw you?" Valeria asks quickly and loudly, grasping the arm of Donna's chair with white knuckles. The botanist quirks an eyebrow at the younger woman, amused.

"You already know I don't mind, tesorina," she laughs teasingly, a sparkle in her eyes. It had been months since the two officially started dating, and things were going great, but still when Donna looked at her like that she couldn't help but feel like her next request would be stupid. Taking a deep breath, she readies herself and just rips the metaphorical bandaid off.

"Can I draw you like an Italian girl?" Valeria asks again, voice pitching embarrassingly. She watches anxiously as Donna's face blooms red and her jaw drops slightly, her eyes widening like a deer in headlights. Fuck! She shouldn't have asked that! It had just been a silly meaningless flirt the older woman had made to test the waters back then, why did Valeria think to bring it up again? She quickly pushes back and out of Donna's space, fully ready to fumble out an excuse to leave and die of embarrassment somewhere else.

"I'm sorry! Forget I said anything, I'm gonna go make us some tea or-"

"Dolcézza, wait!" Donna hurriedly responds, seeming to have gotten her bearings. She takes Valeria by the arm possessively, pulling her down so their eyes are level. "You... are asking me to pose for you," she blushes again as she squeaks out, "nude?"

The redhead nods slowly, her own cheeks heating up at the thought of her love agreeing. "Yeah- but! But only if you're comfy with that!" She says firmly, staring intently into Donna's eyes to let her know it really is okay to say 'no'. Her concern appears wasted though as a cheeky grin graces Donna's face.

"I was... sort of hoping you'd have asked again after we were interrupted the first time," she admits. Valeria's head feels about ready to explode with the way that small confession makes blood rush to her face. Donna truly was insatiable with her desire for the botanist in training. Feeling emboldened, Valeria leans in until their lips are nearly brushing and responds.

"Then let me help you undress and get ready."

[midgardian-witch]

From the prompt list: “You’re the one avoiding me.” with Steven? 🥺

Alrighty! This turned a little angsty (like a tiny bit). I hope that's ok, anon!

Tongue-tied

Send me a prompt from this list + a character and I'll write a short reader drabble

tags: friends to lovers (kinda) | angst(y) (a tiny bit) | gn!reader

ships: Steven Grant/Reader

AO3

Edit: added AO3 link

"You're the one avoiding me."

"So why are you avoiding me?" 

You look at him sternly, your hands placed firmly on the gift shop counter. Steven freezes like a deer caught in the headlights.

"You're the one avoiding me!", he blurts out in a panic. From the corner of his eye he can see Marc facepalming in the metallic surface of a scarab keychain. 

You raise your eyebrow, your face a perfect mixture of disbelief and amusement. With a short laugh you shake your head.

"Really, Steven?" 

"I'm sorry. I panicked.", he mumbles, his hands fidgeting with his sleeves. Your posture relaxes and you start feeling a little guilty about cornering Steven at work. You just didn't know how else to approach him, since he stopped visiting all the places you would usually meet, either planned or by accident. 

"I just-..."

You look at Steven intently, eyes never wavering, urging him to continue. 

Just say it, Steven. We talked about this. 

He knew Marc was right but he just couldn’t. Nerves were bubbling up in his throat and just thinking about confessing to you made him choke up. 

You were used to Steven stumbling over his words when he was excited but this was unfamiliar. Steven wasn't really one to be tongue-tied like this. It made you worry and feel even more guilty for forcing this conversation on him during his work shift. 

"It's ok. You don't have to explain if you don't want to, Steven.", you try to paddle back and diffuse the situation, "Just-... Could you not avoid me anymore? I miss you."

Steven feels his heart drop into his stomach. He never wanted to hurt you, he just doesn't want to lose you by confessing his more than platonic feelings for you.

He swallows hard and nods. With a smile he replies: "I won't. I promise."

You take a deep breath and return his smile. Slowly you take a step back from the counter. 

"Alright then. Uhm- text me when you feel like talking. Or just hanging out. We don't have to talk. Just-" You clear your throat awkwardly. "You know…", you finish lamely. 

Steven can do nothing but stare at you. Even like this all he can think about is how in love with you he is. 

He is pulled out of his reverie by the sight of Donna approaching behind you. You notice how his face suddenly drops and follow his gaze. As you realize that his mean-mannered boss is coming your way you give Steven a small wave and turn to leave with a silent Call me on your lips. 

He watches you go, his heart pounding so loudly in his chest he can't even hear Donna berate him. 

[nieded]

what are Ezira and AJ like on a long road trip? Which car from their garage would they take? What snacks do they bring? Which one gets pulled over for going eighty in a thirty?

aj and ezira did go on a road trip across california when they were first starting out as a couple! though of course, it would have taken a lot of work to import a car to the states, and so they had a rental. if they could have taken one of their cars, they would have settled on the la ferrari, which could handle the switchbacks of the serria nevada.

maybe someday they will take the road trip that newt and ligur talked about from montpellier to cologne.

the actual reality is that they would take the gti, if they had a choice from their own garage. hypercars are notoriously unreliable. they are not meant for road trips. they aren't really meant to be driven, honestly. replacing brakes on a la ferrari (which is a common maintenance item!!!) costs 40k. the SO works next door to an italian repair shop that exclusively does ferraris, lambos, alfas, and fiats. they have had a lamborghini aventador sitting in the shop for months because it requires a new set of special tires, which they only release every couple of years. so it's just waiting for a random shipment that may or may not come in the next year. the lifespan on hypercars for maintenance items like oil changes and brakes are much much shorter than the average car.

also, where would their luggage go? they will definitely need boot space. crowley's a pain to fly with because he always has extra luggage for stuff: skincare, haircare, nail polish, nail polish remover, extra hats that he will not wear, extra shoes that he will also not wear, but he has them just in case they do the beach or a hike. (and still, he wears his boots.) chargers for his electronics and back up batteries just in case. and weed. road trips are excellent when transporting the goods.

but crowley has no opinion on snacks. thankfully, ezira has all the opinions on snacks. healthy choices such as snacking peppers and carrots and seaweed chips to just cake. lots of biscuits. he has a kettle in the back so they can make periodic petrol stops to boil hot water. and should they stop and pick up more ice for the cooler? just in case? and in the end, they only eat half of it because every four hours, he's on google maps researching local restaurants and cafes for nibbles.

and realistically, neither of them will get pulled over for speeding, but if one of them had to, it'd be crowley. ezira hates driving around civilians. it's much safer to be going 190 on a race track. but average joes are unpredictable. get off your phone! use the indicator (to the beemer, i'm looking at you). oops you missed your exit and are now crossing six lanes of interstate... everybody's out here being lance stroll. ezira absolutely hates it, and if you spend 15 minutes on r/idiotsincars, you will too. there's very little ezira sticks his nose up at, but civilians. *shudders*

but they wouldn't drive over the speed limit, not too much. that's for work. crowley will take it slow through the alps so ezira can take pictures of the clear blue lakes and snow-capped mountains. they'll take turns with the bluetooth, donna summer and pink floyd for crowley, abba and death cab for ezira, and they'll talk about the race season and the spots they want to revisit in america and italy and japan. they'll wonder what ceres has destroyed at marnie and lili's and what the nibling is up to. if she's crawling yet because that means she's almost walking and if she's running they can stick her in a go kart.

but the silence would be good too at night, windows down, one of crowley's feet out the window when it's ezira's turn to drive (less people, more deer, but he will take his chances). and they'll stop on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere between two cities and look up and up and up at the sky, stars twinkling above. and crowley will think about how he's crossed finish lines filled with fireworks, stood on the platform in monza once upon a time when the tifosi flooded the track, sat in the cockpits of wheeled rocketships, unbelievable feats of engineering from mankind, and think nothing could compare to the darkest night in the quiet with his beloved.

it's not about going fast. it's about drawing it out, sitting in the cabin with each other and no one else, as if they could sneak one more minute, one more hour together before they're pulled across the globe in opposite directions. they love it. they love the racing and the adrenaline and the fireworks (but not the jet lag and missed calls and wondering if the other is sleeping ok). they love that feeling of peeling their racing gloves off after hours of sweating and swearing, the long drink of water after a long drive. but. but they love each other more.

[cleolinda]

Weekend links, May 5, 2024

My posts

It seems like it couldn’t possibly be true, but Lauren Bacall seems to be the first “Lauren,” and you can see in the U.S. baby name graphs when she hits the screen. I’m leaving open the possibility that someone female, somewhere, was named Lauren before 1944, but as a Lauren, I haven’t seen evidence of it yet. 

Reblogs of interest

Late-breaking news: Bernard Hill (best known as Théoden in Lord of the Rings) has passed at age 79. 

The Hot Vintage Lady Polls: Reminder that I’m not affiliated with the Hot Vintage Brackets (or any brackets); I just like vintage ladies and get easily obsessed with things. Greta Garbo and Rita Hayworth are in danger this time (I am letting the chips fall where they may with Ava). I would say I don’t understand people, but I’m sure Audrey people don’t understand me, either. That said, the Flaming Chaos Elmo inside me wants to see the Hepburns matched against each other. 

@hotvintagepoll is also running polls to cast an imaginary vintage Dracula movie, as a treat.

Speaking of: Season’s Greason’s, Dracula Daily fans! Good Friend Jonathan’s time loop begins again. 

May the Fourth be with you (And also with you)!

New music from Garbage! “Better Not Lie to Me,” “Revenge and Hurt,” a cover of “Song to the Siren,” and a new mix of “Bad Boyfriend” with Dave Grohl on drums this time. 

New music from Dua Lipa! I’ve liked all the singles a lot so far, and ”Whatcha Doing” is the album song I like the most as of this writing. Good luck to Dua this week cracking the Billboard Taylor 100!

Hozier Watch 2024: At first I was just poking fun at myself for having links here two weeks in a row, and now it’s just a thing? I see this “All art has political dimensions” gifset go by at least once a week, but I’m reblogging it this time for the user discussion.

(“I wrote a song called the Monster Mash, so you should play that. That’s one of mine.”)

“Here are some more articles about the increasing number of First Nations who have been able to reintroduce bison to their lands.”

How to spot fake news (namely: slow the fuck down)

The illustrious career of clip-art wolf Lumpy Kiba

Call an ambulance… but not for Alfred Pennyworth

No one was doing it like costume designer Eiko Ishioka

Crab Cake (Scott Fraser, 2019) 

Unhinged lifestyle editorials, a triptych

Video

Honestly this dual mating dance was my favorite video this week

The Donna Summer song that Brian Eno called “the sound of the future”; I added a video of her performing it 22 years later, and he wasn’t wrong

This seems fine: An... upside-down... deer guitar that...?

Watch for the exact moment this dad realizes why his child thinks mothers in labor foam at the mouth

Come for Werner Herzog’s fear of chickens; stay for a quote that will blow you straight back to Journalfen 2004

This video of birds eating seeds and drinking orange juice is also self care

Eventually someone will stop Chocolate Guy, but today is not that day

The sacred texts

Hope is a weapon. Hope is a skill

Personal tag of the week

Cats, including this cat full of love, designed by poll, and the two types of kittens.

[saltygilmores]

Thoughts While Watching Gilmore Girls: The Master Index

Season 1

Pilot 💗 The Lorelais First Day At Chilton 💗Kill Me Now 💗 The Deer Hunters 💗 Cinnamons Wake 💗Rory's Birthday Parties 💗 Kiss and Tell 💗 Love and War and Snow 💗 Rory's Dance 💗 Forgiveness and Stuff 💗 Paris is Burning 💗 Double Date 💗 Concert Interruptus 💗 That Damn Donna Reed 💗 Christopher Returns 💗 Star Crossed Lovers and Other Strangers 💗 The Breakup Part II 💗 The Third Lorelai 💗 Emily In Wonderland 💗 PS I Love You 💗 Love Daisies and Troubadors 💗

Season 2

Sadie Sadie 💗 Hammers & Veils 💗Red Light On The Wedding Night 💗Road Trip to Harvard 💗 Nick & Nora & Sid & Nancy 💗 Presenting Lorelai Gilmore 💗Like Mother Like Daughter 💗 The Inns and Outs of Inns 💗 Run Away Little Boy 💗 Bracebridge Dinner 💗 Secrets and Loans 💗Richard In Stars Hollow 💗 A Tisket a Tasket 💗 It Should Have Been Lorelai💗Lost & Found 💗 Theres The Rub 💗 Dead Uncles And Vegetables 💗Back in The Saddle💗 Lorelais Graduation Day💗I Cant Get Started

Season 3

Lazy Hazy Crazy Days 💗 Haunted Leg 💗 Application Anxiety 💗 One's Got Class The Other One Dyes 💗 8 O Clock At The Oasis 💗 Take The Deviled Eggs 💗 They Shoot Gilmores Don't They 💗 Let The Games Begin💗Deep Fried Korean Thanksgiving 💗 That'll Do Pig 💗 I Solemnly Swear 💗 Lorelai Out Of Water 💗

Bonus Episode: A Vineyard Valentine

[eletricheart]

Chaotic Peace

(Donna Beneviento x Reader)

*image creds to owner

Word count: 455

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

It was a peaceful day for Donna, she was working on some dolls when noticed the complete silence, which was odd considering the Dimitrescu girls were visiting. There was no high pitched laughing followed by you yelling and cursing Angie, nor the noise of multiples flies and laughter.

Donna stood up once two full minutes had gone by with nothing crashing. At first she considered you all died, but that would've been loud since you wouldn't go down without a fight.

The dollmaker took the elevator to the first floor with fidgeting hands, trying to not get too caught up in her own head. She was heading for the second floor when heard whispers coming from the kitchen. Moving silently she stood at the door watching you, Angie, Cass, Dani and Bella arguing over a broken oven.

You only noticed Donna when she released her breath in relief. Making everyone turn around like deers in highlight.

The dollmaker only pointed at the destruction before loud arguing broke free. The lady waited for it to cease so that her voice could be heard. "So, who did it? I'm not mad, I just want to know"

Bella was the first to speak. "It was me, I did it."

Donna shook her head. "I know you didn't do it. Cass?"

Cassandra was the second. "I don't wanna say it but Daniela has been really quiet."

Daniela turned with a gasp. "Oh really?!"

Bella tried to take the blame again but Donna didn't accept it. The dollmaker looked at you with a questioning look.

In which you took with surprise. "Don't look at me, look at Angie."

The doll tried to jump on you but Daniela held her. "I didn't break it you lying piece of sh-"

You cut her off before an hour of cursing. "How did you even know it was broken?!"

The doll gasps in frustration. "Because it's sitting right in front of us and it's broken."

Cassandra, not backing down, talked again. "Daniela was the last one seen close to it, she clearly did it!"

Dani looked as furious as ever, with only Bella separating both sisters. "I don't even do that crap, everyone knows I can't cook."

Hell broke loose again in the kitchen with Donna still at the door holding her head in her hands.

The oven was broken a few days ago when Donna was trying to bake but couldn't get the timing right, so she called her dolls to destroy it. The dollmaker expected that in a few minutes, Angie would go after you with a knife, Cassandra and Daniela would set the room on fire and Bella would call her mother and ask her to "save her from these savages".

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

masterlist

[crashdevlin]

Permission Granted 1- New Girl

Author’s Note: This is the first chapter of Permission Granted, the first part of To Have it All. This is Open...from Jensen's side!

Summary: Jensen meets Y/n, the new guest star on Supernatural. There's an instant connection, but a dozen reasons not to pursue it. 

Pairing: none yet, eventual Jensen x Reader

Word count: 4354

Story Warnings: none really, little bit of Y/n's shitty self esteem peeking through

~~~~

"They're replacing Ruthie quick, aren’t they?" I commented to Jared as I read over Dabb's email in the Hair and Makeup trailer. "Wonder why they didn't just bring Rowena back."

"Fresh face, probably. I dunno. You know Dabb's always looking for new female characters to kill off." Jared shrugged and took a drink of his froufrou iced latte.

"Oh, if we're lucky, maybe she'll be a lesbian so they can leave her broken in a bathtub," I said, rolling my eyes as they started blow drying Jared's hair.

"Or a fuckin’ love interest so they can kill her off in two episodes," he shouted over the sound of the dryer.

"Shoshanna got more than two."

"Barely, Ackles! She got two and then forty-five seconds of a death scene!”

I nodded and licked my lips. Yeah, they had to kill her off. Every fuckin’ time. “Well, maybe this one won’t go the same direction.”

I settled back and read over the rest of the email. Damn it. They’ve got Dean on the ‘Kill Jack despite the fact that the kid hasn’t done anything wrong’ track. Of course they do. Have they ever watched the show? Whatever.

It was a couple days later that I was sitting in the makeup chair and a short woman walked up the steps and stopped in her tracks. She's not the first guest to freeze when they see me the first time but she was definitely the cutest doing it. I didn’t call attention to her 'deer in the headlights' thing as she stood in the doorway, clearly debating leaving until she looked at her phone screen and determined that she had to stay.

She had to get herself comfortable with me somehow. As fun as it can be to tease the new girl, professionalism is the best way forward for most of these situations. I determined to tease her when she got a little more comfortable.

She sat down in the stylist’s chair and looked down at her phone, obviously trying to distract herself with something more than Jennifer doing her hair. It was pretty adorable. She was pretty adorable. But...I had to start the task of getting her okay.

“You must be our new witch,” I said. She made a little squeaky noise and I could see her eyes glaze over a little in the mirror. “I’m Jensen.” Normally, I would have offered my hand but we weren’t in the position for that.

“I know that,” she whispered, making me chuckle as she cleared her throat and turned a little to look at me as much as she could. “I’m Y/n. Big fan.”

“Yeah?”

“Yep. Uh, I used to watch Days with my mom, but I think I became a real fan with Smart Alec on Dark Angel,” she said and I smiled. Eric Brady and Alec McDowell. Two amazing characters. I really liked Alec. Jessica could’ve been less of a prima donna but I guess she could’ve been worse, too.

“That feels like a million years ago. That show was badass, though,” I mused. “Fox shoulda kept it longer.”

“Agreed,” she said, smiling all shy. She looked so fucking nervous, so I had to move the conversation along.

“So...fan of mine...have you seen much of this show or are we gonna have to give you context for scenes?” I teased. She seemed to relax a little, slumping in her chair.

“Might’ve been a fan of you longer, but I love the show. Seen almost every episode.”

Better than me. I haven’t seen half of ‘em. “Almost every episode? What kinda fan are you?”

“Do not question my nerd cred, sir,” she sassed me. “I’m a fan, big time. I even went to a Creation Con late last year, just to see you guys up close.”

I laughed a little at that. The cons are great, but I really don’t think we’re worth all that money just to see us in person. “Yeah? Gold?” I had to figure out how devoted a fan she actually was. It would determine my interaction moving forward.

“Silver. I was working retail at the time,” she responded, shaking her head a little. “Couldn’t reconcile dropping a thousand dollars on a vacation.”

I was happy to hear that she kept her crazy to reasonable levels. “Oh, so we met in the autograph line.”

“Yep,” she said, popping that ‘p’ like vocal directors hate so much and looking away from me in the mirror.

There was obviously a story there, so I pressed her. “What’d I sign for you?”

“A hat. A white hat...with a devil’s trap in the middle and SW and DW on opposite sides.”

Crazy as it is, I remembered the hat, but the conventions all blur together so I couldn’t tell where I met her. “Which con was this?” I asked.

“Atlanta,” she answered quickly.

A one-off con. That helped, because I only had one night of memories to sift through. White hat, shaking young woman who could barely speak to me and definitely couldn’t look me in the eyes. I remember my handler getting up after she walked away, came back a minute later to say that Y/n had almost passed out as soon as she got outside the curtain. “Oh, yeah, I remember. I tried to sign Jared’s side but you wouldn’t let me.”

Y/n turned to look at me, obviously shocked with those pretty eyes all wide. “You were doing it on purpose? I thought you were just tired and not paying attention.”

“Nah, I was exhausted in Atlanta, but you looked mortified. I was trying to make you laugh.” Obviously failed on that. I chuckled again as Jennifer started curling her hair. “You seem a lot more put together now.”

She scoffed and rolled her eyes just a bit. “I’m mortified now too, but I saw you and Jared were gonna be on Lot today so I took an Ativan before I got in the car this morning.” Always nice when people are honest and open about their anxiety problems.

“Well, that’s good. Take a double dose tomorrow,” I teased as Trisha pulled the makeup drop cloth and I stood, looking down at her as panic crossed her face.

“What? Why?” she squeaked.

I could tell she hadn’t been given the pages for our scene the next day. I couldn’t resist a little torture. I just laughed as I left the trailer. “You’ll see when you get tomorrow’s pages.” I met Jared on the Bunker set and he patted my shoulder as we walked up into the library. “First meeting with the new girl went well. She seems a little out of her element but nice overall.”

“Oh, uh, Y/n?”

“Yeah, she is a fan, actually. We met her at the Atlanta convention. She had that Devil’s Trap hat.” Jared shook his head. He didn’t remember her. “She’s the one that tripped or whatever right after I signed her hat.”

“Oh, the one that fuckin’ fainted?”

“Yeah, I think so. She’s still uncomfortable so we’ll have to warm her up.”

“‘Warm her up’, huh?” Jared raised his eyebrows suggestively and I laughed.

“Not like that, you dummy.”

Of course, Y/n was cute, but messing around with the guest stars was a bit of a no-no, and messing with fans was a big no-no. Especially considering that there’s almost nothing to keep a fan from talking...and the open marriage thing needed to stay quiet.

But I was curious about her. Can’t lie about that. So, I asked around. I went to a few other crew members before I went to Andrew Dabb.

“You remember that casting call we did toward the end of eleven? We got a few of the British Men of Letters off of it?” He leaned back in his chair and looked up at me. “We opened it up for a few folks without representation for a couple weeks. CW didn’t advertise it but we did a post on a few acting sites and there was a bit of circulation once the fandom got a hold of it. She sent a video in. She wasn’t right for the Brits, not posh enough, but her accents were good and she was a pretty great actress, so...”

“So, she isn’t an actor?”

“She’s been doing pretty well for the fact that she hasn’t acted in anything before.”

I blinked at him a few times. “Wow. So, she’s completely green?”

“Technically, yeah. But the second unit directors say she’s doing good.”

“Cool. Thanks.” I started to leave but stopped at the door. “So, what’s the track on her character? She stickin’ around?”

“She’s on for five episodes.”

“Is she going to bite it after those episodes?” I pushed.

“We’re not exactly-”

“Is she a love interest? Is she gonna disappear without a trace? Will she at least get an actual storyline?”

Andrew rolled his eyes at me and shifted in his chair. “I don’t know if she’s going to be a love interest. The writers’ room is in disagreement about that. She’d be a good match for Dean, but we’re not sure how the viewers would react. They never really like it when Dean and Sam have women in their lives.”

“So, you don’t even know. Okay.” I was not impressed with that answer so I left him in his office.

I went looking for her at lunchtime, a little after 1. She was sitting at a table in the Craft Services tent, in the corner by herself, looking down at a paper coffee cup. She was really good at making herself small and seemingly insignificant...but it had the opposite effect on me. It made me want to talk to her more. I grabbed a coffee for myself and a caramel macchiato for Jared from the coffee cart.

“So, I asked Dabb where we got you from and he said it was an open cast. You sent a video in but you’ve never done anything else. You don’t even have an agent.” I walked up and sat in front of her on the other side of the table. She looked up and her eyes went all wide. “So you just decided to become an actor in your twenties?” I guessed her age.

She bit her bottom lip for a minute before leaning forward. “No. I decided to become an actor in high school,” she disputed. She looked a bit disappointed as she continued. “I then graduated from high school and decided that it was a stupid dream and I’d never make any headway so I gave up on it and got a real job.”

She did say that she was working retail. ���Retail. So where are you from, Y/n?” I took a drink of my coffee as she leaned back.

“Northwest Florida. Little town about fifteen miles from the state line.”

I smiled, remembering a Spring Break with Christian back in the 90s. “North Florida. I spent a couple Spring Breaks at PCB when I was...younger and unmarried.”

She gave a little laugh. “Panama City is about an hour and a half away from home.”

I took another drink, trying to think of something to keep the conversation going. “So you acted in high school, huh?” I asked as I saw Jared walk into the tent behind her.

“Yeah. School plays, Thespians, Forensics competitions, that kinda thing.” I heard about that competition shit from Jared. ‘Competition’ is the key word on that. Apparently, it’s harder than screen acting.

“You did Forensics?” Jared asked, his whole face lighting up. “I won Nationals with my friend Chris in high school.” He came over and folded himself backward into a chair. I handed him his coffee and he nodded at me.

“I did monos. Got second in State, but didn’t make Nationals.” She sounded a little disappointed, but shit, second in State is pretty damn good.

“I did monos, duos, and extemp, but I only placed in Duo. Jared,” he said, reaching out to shake her hand.

She looked a bit more comfortable with Jared and that made me feel a little bit jealous. I’m nice. I didn’t understand why she was awkward with me. “Y/n. It’s amazing to meet you.”

“Oh, he gets an ‘amazing to meet you’? I didn’t even get a handshake.” I covered the jealousy with a teasing comment.

Jared teased back before she could. “Well maybe I’m just more approachable, dude.”

“You? Giant muscley gym-bro?” I hit back.

“Honestly, I’m five-three so you’re both giants to me,” she joked with a laugh.

“So, Y/n, how long did they sign you for?” Jared asked.

“Five episodes to start. They said they’ll give me more or not depending on fan response. They’ll probably hate me, though, so I’ll be gone by midseason Hellatus.” ‘Hellatus’ made me smile.

“Why would they hate you?” Jared asked. “It’s not like your character is a love interest.” He looked between Y/n and me for a minute. “Wait, Tara’s not a love interest, is she?”

“Andrew said the writers are at an impasse on that one. No, the fans will hate her for one simple reason: jealousy.” I shrugged. “She’s a fan. Some of ‘em probably know her from, like cons and shit. They’re gonna be jealous that she’s here and they aren’t.”

She nodded. “Yeah. I’ve kinda tried to keep a lid on this from the fan groups. Haven’t told anybody except the family and my best friends about it. Unfortunately, had to stop posting in my Facebook groups when I got the job.” I cringed a bit at the mention of the Facebook groups. Fan groups are a subject best ignored as much as possible.

Jared laughed. “Man, you seem like a reasonable woman so don’t be offended when I say...some of our fans are crazy. You’re better off staying away from the fan sites.”

She smiled. “No, I know how crazy some of us can be. I’ve had some fights online with the tin-hat folks.”

I know I grimaced when she mentioned those folks. Jared did, too. “What is wrong with those people?” Jared shook his head.

She started laughing and it was such a cute, uninhibited sound. “They just...really want you to be gay for each other.”

“Yeah.” She was definitely comfortable and I wanted to take full advantage of it. “So, uh, you get tomorrow’s pages yet?” I asked, smirking. She looked down for a moment before hiding by drinking her coffee. “Yeah, she did. You gonna be okay? You’re not gonna freak out, are you?”

“I will…” She swallowed so loud I could hear it across the table. “...try my best...to not freak out.”

“You look like you’re already freaking out,” Jared said, smiling.

She took a deep breath and let it out as a scoff. “Totally. I am totally freaking out about tomorrow’s scene.”

Jared and I both laughed before I leaned forward a bit. “How about we run lines later?” That wasn’t a new thing for me. I often offer to run lines, especially with the guest stars. But the next words that came out of my mouth were new. “We could grab some dinner, meet up at my trailer, and get the nerves out of the way.”

I was just about to apologize for overstepping any bounds by inviting her to my trailer when she whispered, “That sounds...amazing.” It was this breathy, sexy voice coming out of this sweet woman and I just didn’t feel like I’d overstepped after that, even when she stuttered out, “I mean, it sounds amazing to get the nerves out of the-”

“6 o’clock. Don’t be late,” I said as Jared and I stood to get back to the Bunker.

“What am I gonna do? Go back to my motel to watch one of the ten channels that actually come through clearly?”

“They’ve got you in that Budget Inn, don’t they?” Jared guessed. We have heard a lot of horror stories about that motel.

“Yeah. It’s not so bad. Gotta sleep in the tub to avoid the bed bugs, but it’s cool. Livin’ the dream,” she joked and I laughed as we walked away.

"So...your trailer, Ackles?" Jared asked as we walked away, his eyebrow cocked.

"I'm just tryin' to be friendly, man."

"I know what your 'friendly' looks like and that was not just friendly."

"I just met her!" I argued. "And she's a guest...and a fan! I'm just trying to accommodate her nervousness so we don’t have to do a million takes tomorrow."

"Okay, well...I won't tell Dee, but you should-" I reached out and pushed his shoulder roughly and he laughed as he teetered a bit. "She seems nice, though. Don't scare her away."

I wasn’t planning to scare Y/n away. I wasn’t planning anything except hospitality. I really wasn’t. But she was cute and interesting and she was obviously incredibly attracted to me, so I couldn’t do anything anyway because that might get awkward quick.

No, I was just gonna make a new friend out of the new girl. I’ve done it a bunch of times before. I mean...look at Misha.

She showed up about half an hour early and watched us flub a few takes of this argument between Sam and Dean about Jack and it was fun to watch her expression get more awed with every take. Phil cut us for dinner after a while I jumped down from the soundstage, smiling at the look on her face. “Well, hello, Newbie,” I greeted. “I’m thinkin’ pizza. You good with pizza?”

She nodded. “Yeah. Pizza’s fine.”

I walked away from her, trying to keep everything casual as we went off to my trailer. She ran after me and I slowed down a bit. I was used to Jared and Misha following me around the lot, so I had to consciously slow myself to make it easier for Y/n’s short legs.

“Any dietary restrictions? Lactose, gluten, vegan?” I asked, just to make sure that I wasn’t going to poison her by ordering a pie with pepperoni or something.

“It’s not a pizza without cheese and meats and…” Y/n shook her head and laughed. “I’m a Southern girl. We don’t deal with crazy…gluten-free, meat-free, paleo-vegan...blah, blah, blah,” she finished, gesturing with her hands in the air. It was adorable.

“I thought you were from Florida,” I argued teasingly. “Not really ‘Southern’.”

“And I thought you’d been to North Florida. You should know that Northwest Florida is pretty much UCLA: Upper Corner, Lower Alabama,” she responded and I laughed. Never heard that one before. “That’s not my joke.”

“It was pretty funny anyway. So, you like pepperoni?”

“Look at me. Do I look like I’ve ever turned down free food? Well, except lasagna, but got a...thing with lasagna.”

That threw me so hard I had to stop and turn to her. “What does that mean, you’ve got a thing with lasagna?” I asked.

“There was a bad thing with some really horrible microwave lasagna when I was about seven. Couldn’t eat it for years, now I can only eat it if I make it.”

There was a story there, but I wasn’t ready to push for it. “Wow. Okay. Do not order lasagna. Check.” I opened up the trailer and let her in, grabbing my phone off of the counter as soon as I got inside. I pulled up the speed dial for the closest good pizza place and went into the bathroom to change. It was a mix of teasing her and preparing her that I drove me to change my clothes. Well, change my pants into shorts and take the wardrobe shirts off. I wrapped a towel around my waist and checked in the mirror to make sure the shorts weren’t visible before setting the phone on the sink counter and grabbing the door handle. “Okay, pizza will be here in ‘bout forty, which gives us plenty of time to run lines,” I said, to get her attention before I’d opened the door, so she could get the full effect of my outfit.

Which got me exactly the dumbfounded look from her that I was expecting. She stared. And when I say ‘stared’, I mean it. Her jaw dropped, her eyes went focused and unfocused and roamed over me like crazy. Usually, I start feeling shy when women stare at me like that, but not with her. With Y/n, it felt less like objectification and more like appreciation.

“See, this is why we need to practice,” I said to snap her out of it. I smirked as she cleared her throat and looked off toward the fireplace before closing her eyes.

“Sorry.”

“No, you have to look at me, kid. It’s part of the scene.”

She sighed and looked over at me. “I’m not a kid. I have a kid. I’m a woman.”

“Then act like one,” I challenged.

She licked her lips, cleared her throat again and sat forward. “Please, do keep both hands on the towel, Winchester. One never knows where you hunters have hidden weapons.”

I went into Dean mode like the second nature that it is. “Tara. What do you want?”

“World peace, a condo in Malibu, and a little respect would be nice,” she said, confidence that was definitely not her natural mode leaking out of her. “I mean, I did save your asses in Chicago.”

“Yeah, that’s not how I remember it.”

She laughed out loud and stood. “Of course not. You can’t possibly admit that a witch helped you. I mean, a witch other than Rowena Macleod.”

“Yeah, your mentor, right? Explain again why I’m supposed to trust that you’re a white witch?”

“She wasn’t my mentor. She wasn’t allowed to be. Olivette wouldn’t let me. Shit! ‘Olivette wouldn’t let her’.” Her face fell as she pulled out her pages, obviously upset that she’d blown a single word in her line. “‘Olivette wouldn’t let her. We had to train in secret, but that doesn’t mean I carry her ideals’,” she read frantically.

I smiled as soothingly as possible. “Calm down. It’s a lot better to fuck up here with me than out there on camera. Don’t wanna end up on the gag reel, do you?” She shook her head. “All right. From the top.”

We made it through the scene completely on the second try and she said her lines like she was completely immersed in Tara’s character. It shocked me a bit, actually. No wonder Casting picked her out of a pile of video submissions. She hit those facial expressions and the overwhelming sense of ‘trying to do right without the right tools’ better than I could have imagined. There was so much pain in her eyes when she said, “Don’t trust me. Don’t like me. I don’t care” and it wasn’t even in the script to be anything but pissy.

She asked how well she’d done and I smiled as I pulled the towel off and tossed it across the room to land on the counter. She looked relieved to see my golf shorts. “You did great. You think you’ll be able to stay focused in front of the cameras?”

“Well, if I can manage to not drool all over myself staring at you when it’s just the two of us, I think I can keep my shit together in front of Phil and everyone else.”

I smiled as she carried some of her Tara energy over into her real life. “Ah, so you’re one of those fans,” I teased.

She scoffed loudly. “Oh, come on. You know how sexy you are.” She scrunched her face up in a grimace and looked away. “That was not what I intended to say.”

“Can’t take it back now,” I said, chuckling.

“Oh, how I wish I could,” she said, shaking her head. “Okay, so have they told you anything about the Chicago episode ‘cause I have no clue what’s going on with that. They haven’t given me anything on that.”

They do that sometimes, where they’ll forget to tell folks what’s going on in the episodes before. It’s part of shooting out of order, but it usually doesn’t affect the guests too much...and they almost always told me and Jared in advance. “Right, I’ve got a first draft script round here somewhere.” I went looking around the counter near the kitchenette to find the script and handed it to her. I’d already read it but I looked over her shoulder as she went through it herself.

“Oh, she...is very flirty, isn’t she?” she said when she got to the part where Tara said ‘If we were doing what I wanted, we’d be in bed not a warehouse’. She seemed a bit uncomfortable about it so I smiled and knocked my knee into hers.

“You can handle that, right?”

“Of course I can,” she defended.

“Good,” I said, getting up to retrieve the pizza from the PA knocking at my door. As we ate slices of floppy pepperoni pizza, she pointed out a line where Dean tells Sam ‘Tara was kinda hot in a Khloe Kardashian circa 2007 kinda way’. “Which means…?”

“That’s when she was the ‘fat’ Kardashian,” Y/n explained, looking down at herself a bit self-consciously. “She was still hot, I guess…’cause she knows how to make herself look good with the clothes and makeup and all the stuff money makes easy, but she was not considered the prettiest one.”

It seemed like a subject that made her sad, and I guess I could see that Y/n was what Hollywood considered ‘fat’, but I thought she was hot...and I didn’t like her feeling bad about herself. “Oh, so a chick likes to eat, so she’s not hot? Never understand that.”

“Me either,” she said, smiling as she took a big bite of her pizza.

I made her feel a bit better and that was exactly what I needed at that moment.

The Kitchen Sink Tags- @flamencodiva @sacriceria @lyarr24 @440mxs-wife @nancymcl @mariekoukie6661 @alwayskeepfightingsweetheart @cosicas-cuquis @queenoftheunderdark @myheartbelongsintz @squirrelnotsam @akshi8278 @muhahaha303 @agirlwithdemonblood @this-is-me19 @mrswhozeewhatsis

[mymiraclebox]

https://www.tumblr.com/mymiraclebox/748145629715382272/which-deltas-came-from-the-concept-of-death?source=share

How about the other alphas? Also, do the elementals and timekeepers not come from the alphas?

Elementals come from Neutral Energy, which is the leftover energy from when the Alpha kwamis first divided. So yes they come from Alphas, but not from a certain one in particular. Timekeepers also come from Neutral Energy, but they are descended from a former Elemental, Eeterna, the kwami of Time, who divided to become the Timekeepers.

---

Deltas from Life: -Duune the Camel of Perspective -Milli the Chameleon of Emotion -Remmi the Coyote of Despair -Fawwna the Deer of Wilderness -Tuskk the Elephant of Memories -Jellos the Jellyfish of Hatred -Valoree the Lion of Courage -Duux the Moth of Hope -Currio the Narwhal of Wonder -Ecco the Parrot of Language -Duusu the Peacock of Psyche -Daizzi the Pig of Love -Anjjel the Quail of Mercy -Orikko the Rooster of Vitality -Daante the Seahorse of Fear -Poppy the Shark of Joy -Yuume the Sheep of Dreams -Scuut the Tortoise of Knowledge -Teer the Vulture of Sorrow

Deltas from Death: -Fangg the Bat of Fatigue -Verr the Gorilla of Sacrifice -Allces the Moose of Evocation -Glaace the Polar Bear of Endurance

Deltas from Creation: -Sannar the Axolotl of Restoration -Chaapa the Beaver of Innovation -Nooroo the Butterfly of Generosity -Purr the Cheetah of Agility -Reef the Coral of Sensitivity -Snapp the Crab of Adaptation -Florra the Elk of Growth -Ziggy the Goat of Imagination -Baash the Mouflon of Strength -Mullo the Mouse of Abundance -Ziibi the Otter of Transformation -Aynna the Scarab of Reflection -Flairr the Secretarybird of Passion

Deltas from Destruction: -Karrma the Goose of Justice -Vexx the Komodo Dragon of Corrosion -Stompp the Ox of Determination -Habuu the Rattlesnake of Beauty -Roaar the Tiger of Force -Sotaa the Wolverine of Conflict

Deltas from Order: -Harmonee the Ant of Cooperation -Pollen the Bee of Subjection -Maggi the Binturong of Magnetism -Yanna the Bison of Victory -Llucie the Crocodile of Clarity -Elle the Gecko of Equality -Izzy the Isopod of Instinct -Niisha the Jackal of Connections -Donna the Llama of Attention -Attlantis the Octopus of Choice -Fleet the Ostrich of Guidance -Ommen the Raven of Probability -Verriti the Scorpion of Truth -Prrince the Swan of Loyalty -Wayzz the Turtle of Protection -Divvi the Zebra of Duality

Deltas from Chaos: -Blannca the Blackbuck of Inversion -Clikk the Dolphin of Sound -Liiri the Eagle of Freedom -Trixx the Fox of Deception -Parra the Giraffe of Confusion -Xuppu the Monkey of Derision

Deltas from Space: -Barkk the Dog of Detection -Sorren the Falcon of Observation -Spikke the Hedgehog of Precision -Taamus the Hippopotamus of Density -Kaalki the Horse of Migration -Floss the Ibex of Friction -Kicc the Kangaroo of Avarice -Vollee the Locust of Invasion -Jiicho the Okapi of Dimension -Lynn the Pangolin of Boundary -Mannta the Ray of Immersion -Kaanda the Rhinoceros of Augmentation -Finn the Salmon of Navigation -Tinni the Squirrel of Diminution -Twwist the Stoat of Elasticity -Drill the Woodpecker of Expansion

Deltas from Void: -Dess the Cougar of Apathy -Olivv the Dove of Peace -Ravenna the Hyena of Scarcity -Belaa the Jaguar of Imperception -Tyyto the Owl of Secrets -Selkee the Seal of Elusion -Frijj the Snow Leopard of Silence -Acce the Thylacine of Isolation

[carmenized-onions]

NEW CHAPTER, 14, new recap (can you believe the first one i recapped was chapter 5 oh my) lets rip some coke and goooo

“I thought it was a good bit!” “Cause I’m a piece of shit?” - IVE MISSED THISS

CHARMIN SOUNDS LIKE CHARMING 🥹🥹🥹

the deer in headlights bit is v funny, you’ll see when you see the memes (which i made before the chapter, i am nostradamus)

she is fruity for sure

nodding like i understand food talk (tf is a3)

unrelated but the same therapist thing reminded me about something i keep forgetting to bring up - RICHIE IS HR. so when you mentioned the bear needs an HR, well they do. and as long as carmy treats chip right i think he’ll accept the co-worker relationship (anything to be able to work with chippy)

THE CAT. he is those cute curly kitties. the shat, iykyk

the fact carmen wants to say ‘i love you’ this early (something he struggled a lot to say to his family) IS SOOOOOOOOO

OMG CHIPPY GOING TO WORK FOR THEM FOR REAL????:333333333

This has been Carmichael Burrowski, folks! Don’t call no one— — DNEKRKRIOELEKDKFODNEKE CARMICHAEL BURROWSKI

Ugh, boyfriend? What kind of word is ‘boyfriend’? That's fucked. - THEYRE SO SIMILAR AND PERFECT TOGETHER

And you cannot say you love him because that would be weird. - OH SHUT UP THEYRE SO

“I’m going to kiss you.” “Yeah, okay.” - THAT IS SO FUNNY SJDJFJKF

He’s fine with the touch of hair pulling, on your part— Possibly more than fine. — *giggles in meme*

“You’re so pretty.” You tell him anyway, speaking into his half open mouth.  Whatever thought he had, it’s dead now.“—Jesus fucking Christ.” - i need them to know how much i love them jesus fucking christ

“I’m not a fucking virgin.” - LMFAOEKRKKEOEKEKRNRKRKRKEKEKEKE

“It was a recent development, okay?” “Darn. Sorry I was late.” - 🥺🥺🥺 imagine -

“I want you in every sentence.” - FUCKING KILL ME WHY DONT YOU CARA MIA😭

to bite you like a cannibal - this man and his hickeys🤭🤭🤭

“Fak is still outside, I’m pretty sure.” - CHIP??1?2?2?3kr3kr3kr3kr838484kr4&4&4

“Wait— Are they?” Oh, so Richie’s here, too? Good. - oh great everyone’s here, bet squid is there too

NUZZLING NOSES

her old cat, her old pu-

Nuzzling your face into Syd’s cheek - squidink as she’s holding carm’s hand?? wild

“First of all, wrong placement.” - ofc it is

When shit happens, you call me - 🥺🥺🥺 bestie!!!

“Get your weird little hands off my Chip, you perv—” - LMFAOOOW DJEJEJDJDJ I LOVE HIM SO

and syd’s reply sidjdifi

“Y’know how going to a different barber is like cheating—?” - SJDJDJ GET HIS ASS CHIP. they swapped her for fucking ted fak???

“You’re still— We’re still sharing, right?” - SYD SHENJEHEJE

I’m sexually normal - very normal thing to say, it me tho

OMFG IF CHIP RECOGNIZES DONNA AND PETE FROM OUTSIDE THE RESTAURANT

“Baby’s do traditionally experience time, yeah.” “You n’ that smart mou—” - their dynamic is unmatched

You have to respect the power in that. “Damn.” - that reminded me of marcus

“Oooh, Charmin gets his first paycheck suddenly he’s all that—” “You wanna come up to my room or not?” - i was gonna comment on the charmin thing but HELLO1??1?23)kr3:kr

THEY CAN HANG. SURE BRO

THEYRE WATCHING RATATOUILLE OMGGGGG

Sleeveless black turtleneck? Maybe black palazzo pants - HOT

Please say yes to the white apron. Please say yes to his team. He'll get your initials monogrammed and everything. - *passes out*

the wonderful rat chef

ON GOD

“Yeah. I’ll answer.” - bc 🥺😭

“You’re fucking Carmen!” - GOODBYEEEE. not carmen outing them YET AGAIN

“So fuck you, actually.” - 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

“Fuck off! I’m already coming to fucking Time Square with you, don’t be whiny.”  - this is giving when dwight was like ‘of course i’ll get that stuff for you so just shut up’

“I nominate Carmen.” “I second the nom.” - tag-team<33

Don’t fuck in a fuckin’ Holiday Inn Chip’s worth mo - he’s so sweet and yet so???

HE CALLED CHIP BABY I REPEAT

It's absolutely going in Carmen's top five favourite expressions of yours. - 🕊️🕊️🕊️

“Syd said she will be knocking violently if I’m not back at midnight on the dot, yeah.” - SQUID GIVING HER GF A CURFEW

THE BERF SHIRT

“God, it’s over—” - squidink is so over rn😔

“Baby, just say you’re happy for me.” - BABY. THEYRE SO BACK

squid can stab men, a little, as a treat

You hand her your water bottle when you spot her looking at it. - 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈

her instinct is to call chip, oh OH oh

“I didn’t ask you to be great.” Syd says it before she thinks it, and it’s enough to make your eyes water - MINE ARE RUNNING TOO ACTUALLY

God you’re dehydrated - *careless whisper plays* i mean what I SAID NOTHING

squid out🦑🦑

“It’s so crazy that you think that’s gonna happen—” - I LOVEEE SHEEE

Your shoulders touch as you both stare at the ceiling. - CUTIES

She hums, pointing to the popcorn tiles - namedrop! jk…unless?

“Oh my fucking God it’s that bad—”- GET THEIR ASSES SQUID

In front of everyone, accidentally while saying goodbye, off-handedly while hanging up, over text, and so on and so forth. - all of those are cute actually

“Now it’s three.” “Fuck, it’s gaining interest?!” - WE’RE SO BACK!!!!

“Wait, what the fuck, Syd, say it back!” - REAL!!

this was so cute!! just them and their adventures

LETS. GET. ROLLLINNGGGG!!!! (papers!!!) (we both can do drug jokes in this house!!!) (there will be a wip under all this as a treat I promise)

I’m honestly shocked Charmin isn’t a canon nickname (yet!!), cause like. IT DOES SOUND LIKE CARMEN!!! AND THE TOILET PAPER BEARS!!! AND THE TOILET PAPER BEARS ARE BLUE NOW TOO!!! WHAT THE HELL!!!

You are frfr an oracle with your memes, occasionally I look at em like hmmmmm,,,, this is gonnna be a lot funnier after the next one. My comedic Nostradamus genius. (the secrets of the universe ARE in the popcorn ceiling!! U!!)

The benefit about writing about food for people who did not come for food is that I also don’t have to fully understand what I’m saying. Had to look at a wagyu chart and make a lot of assumptions. I am not going to make steak with pop rocks to find out if it’s any good.

OKAY WHAT THE FUCK I S RICHIE’S JOB I’M BEING SO FR I DO NOT !!! Carmen’s Exec, Syd’s CDC/Head, Richie is… HR/Co-Manager/Host??? No wonder he can afford fuckin eras tour tickets bro is getting THREE DIFFERENT PAYCHECKS WHAT!!! But this does make sense. Bro IS THEE Human Resource.

Had to look up photos of sheep cats. Yeah that’s him. That’s Carmen but a Cat for sure.

RAHH. The held back I love yous are very. Very rah. Theres a lot of thought behind them for me but I shant share because I feel like that may give too much away I fear?

Carmichael burrowski is brought to you by seeing Carmichael company vans a lot and Mae Burrowski from Night in the Woods. Thank u both for ur service.

I completely forgot about the ‘that’s fucked’ convo with Fak until I saw a gifset and went OH YEAH…. It IS fucked. They are so stupid. They are also both unable to say I love you because that would be WEIRD!!!!!!!

I am so happy with the incredibly funny smooch because it was very much to mimic Carmen’s —

I think funny kisses are the way to go. There is something very charming (CHARMIN!) to me about awkwardly expressed consent.

YOU DIDN’T PUT THE RATATOULLIE MEME IN THIS ONE FOR THE PUBLIC TO ENJOY AND FOR THAT!!! YOU’VE DEPRIVED OUR PEOPLE!! i knew if I was gonna make him watch ratatouille and have him relate, he’d have to relate to more than just remy.

I’ll call them and let them know you love them, promise. Whenever they get out of the bathroom.

Carmen 30-Year Old Virgin Berzatto— Or 28-29, time line is UNCLEAR!! Regardless, I couldn’t take away my man’s one W. He fumbles most people, I had to let him have the one he canonically got. And also it was too fun to consider him absolutely STEWING as Tony recounts her emotional relationship with Mikey, just thinking in the background “I need to tell her I am in fact. NOT . a virgin!” I hate this man.

I WANT YOU IN EVERY SENTENCEEE RRAAAWHWHWHEHE!!! Loved that. Loved writing that paragraph. Love love. Love wanting to have someone so intrinsically in your life that in order for someone to know you they have to know them. WOOOOOO!!!!!!!! Carmen give her a hickey before we have to confront the emotional implications, GET HER BOY!!

Well how much did you bet on syd being there because now I owe you

CHIPS GOT TWO HANDS FOR A REASON BABY!!! I’m kidding the triangle would never work. But they should try anyways.

Whole Richie scene makes me :)) it’s fun to navigate these two going through like, so many internal emotions obviously over Chip’s trauma dump, and deciding what Richie would actually take a moment to comment on. And I think it absolutely has to be the ‘imagine your friends are dead’, bro 100% HAD TO BE HELD BACK FROM RAMMING THE DOOR DOWN TRULY TRULY. Don’t imagine I’m fuckin dead cousin!!!!!! I’m not a fuckin ghost!!! Call me!!!!!!!!! I am literally your guy!!!!!

Watching season 3 and seeing half of the season unnecessarily focusing on a Handyman (Ted) really had me clutching my pearls like. Bro. where’s my baby. Who the fuck does this guy think he is. This is CHIP TURF!!

BIG SHOUT OUT TO SYDNEY ‘THE SQUID’ ‘SEXUALLY NORMAL’ ADAMU!~

Donna!! Donna!! Finally semi-time that I have to face my white whale of writing,,, da mom… I’m still mentally tackling how to write her, but we’ll get there when we get there…. (truly thought she was gonna fucking die this season I didn’t think I was gonna have to DEAL WITH IT!!)

Everyone simultaneously did a record scratch at ‘do you want to come up to my room’ and I think that’s beautiful. I think that’s everything I wanted and more. They can hang bro. and watch ratatouille. Like hang out and be normal and fantasize about easily removable aprons with monogramming done.

Carmen is a certified shoe in his mouth yapper. Sugar, hand the crown to your brother, you may step off your throne; because this fucker has gotten caught like three separate times simply by being himself.

VERY DWIGHT Very like, sibling texting ‘fuck you I hate you what do you want from mcdonalds im omw home’. That’s the Richip dynamic to me. And then they kill carm.

Chip baby!!! This is not a drill he finally called her a pet name!! men, to your stations! And she didn’t even have the brain to COMPUTE IT, alas.

The post squid scene was so tough I was like, ‘do I cut this and just end on carmen?’ but then I knew, I’d never write this scene, cause spoiler alert, we’re doing a very slight time skip. So like. I just wanted Squidink to have their actual last beat to their sad no contact era because!!! So many feelings to be had over not contacting your boy in forever!!! But god its so OVER!

‘Didn’t ask you to be great’ is SUCH a punch to the gut, esp for a people pleaser like Chip (or me, man). Like. Fuckin. GOD. It’s the same sentiment Richie had in Just Dropped with ‘I’d love you even if you weren’t useful’, but like, this side of it is pre-useful. Like. Not only would I love you if you weren’t useful, I would never ASK you to be useful. HELL.

All of those I love yous are cute you say? Well I will have to up my game in coming up with something truly mortifying, then.

Shout out to me, directing on set, and demanding that my crew says it back when I say I love you. Genuinely my ‘Heard’ is a reciprocated ‘I love you’. No one call Richie/HR.

also the memes. immaculate as always. AND THE AUTHOR/CHIP COMPARISON,,, ART IMITATES LIFE, what can i say? if carmen/chip manage to live together at a point i really can't imagine him denying anything she wants. i think he would only have opinions on the kitchen and maybe efficiency of moving through spaces. (WE NEED TO PUSH THE COFFEE TABLE BACK!!! SIDLING AGAINST IT TO GET TO THE COUCH IS CAUSING A 3.4 SECOND DELAY IN MOVIE TIME!!!!) psycho.

Anyways. As always, a pweasure to hear your thoughts. I am hoping next weekend will finally be the fucking weekend I put something out. It’s hard slugging through this next chapter because it’s basically our so much fucking dialogue chapter, and navigating action and meaning AROUND that has been a nightmare. I think I’m probably over thinking the fuck out of it, to be fair. I feel so bad making y’all wait, so here is a juicer snippet.

THANK YOU LOVE YOU APPRECIATE ALL UR PATIENCE AND ALL UR THOUGHTS I LOVE TO HEAR FROM YALL!!

[eatmangoesnekkid]

Writing and curating “The Melody of Love” series has cracked me open again and again, so much light has entered. I never anticipated how the medicine of this book series would need to ‘work’ first on me in deep ways that I can no longer hide from myself. It has been this ongoing life-death-rebirth journey of renewing my commitment, doing what is excruciatingly hard over settling for what is easy and comfortable, stepping blindfolded with my hands tied behind my back into the archetypal unknown, not allowing my ego to lead over my heart, and letting go of the things I “think” I know in order to stimulate creative ways to feel safe inside the mystery. I have to bend, spread, and go all the way in it, submit to every whisper, and let life carry me. I keep crying and sweating (in other words, detoxing) every day —this is good news. This, too, are birthing pains. 🥹

Thankful to my ancestors, especially my Igbo-Hausa Mum, Miriam who preferred people to call her “Mary,” my council of Beloveds like Minnie, Donna, Eartha, and Marilyn, my herbal/plant allies like the gardenia, peony, rosemary, dandelion, lavender, and marijuana (yes a non-smoker can love marijuana, such a gorgeous, fragrant, and nourishing plant, a plant I spent 3 dedicated years bonding with, singing to, speaking life into and growing, and harvesting💃🏿), my fae spirits, my land companions, all stray and roaming dogs and cats, my winged loved ones, bees, hawks, and all blue-colored birds, my water spirits and mermaid kin, and my woodsy rootsy totems, deer, bumble bees, bunny rabbit, and rat (yes rat, ugh but it’s true). Grateful to my lover-warrior, sex/creative Goddess lineage. Grateful to the sky and tree tops. Grateful for the fire that lights my heart, hips, and spine. Grateful to the sun, moon, and night time stars I merge with in the mountains every night. Grateful to The Charming Lover for adoring me and allowing me to adore her in this life. —India Ame’ye

[minefield-of-a-ninja]

CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 3 | CHAPTER 4 | CHAPTER 5

Summary (request from @thesassywallflower​ for @spnfanficpond​ Secret Santa): Donna is horrified to learn that the boys have never had a proper Christmas, so she invites them to her house for the holiday.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Donna Hanscum

Warnings/tags: explicit (eventually), fluff (? Idk), angst (? light), domestic (can’t get much more domestic)

Chapter WC: 2000

Author’s notes: There will be multiple chapters to this -- at least three, and they will all be written in 3rd person POV, shifting perspective in each section.

Many thanks and love to my dear friend and the very best beta ever @brrose-apothecary​.  Text divider by @talesmaniac89​.

________________________________________________________________

“That’s it,” Donna exclaims, after wiping down her machete and carefully replacing it in its secure case in the bed of her truck. “You two’re comin’ home with me.”

She’s hyper-aware that the Winchesters didn’t have the most conventional upbringing, but, dangit, how many more times will they break her heart with stories about never going to a Christmas party or experiencing the joy of opening gifts on Christmas morning?

“C- coming home with you?” Dean wonders aloud as if he’s testing the words in his mouth. As if she uttered the invitation in Old Norse.

“Yes, Dean. To Stillwater.” Donna turns to face the brothers who both eerily resemble that deer she missed by a hair’s breadth on Highway 95 last week. “Jody and the girls’ll be there, and all’s you need’re the clothes on your backs. We can stop at the dollar store down the street for you two to pick up a couple white elephant gifts.”

“Dollar store?” Dean asks, looking thoroughly bereft of understanding.

“Dean, stop repeating everything that comes out of my mouth. And close yours while you’re at it; you look like a drowning guppy.”

Donna rounds the side of her pickup to stride toward the driver’s side door. The brothers shuffle after her like a couple of 10-year-olds who’d rather be playing Super Mario than endure whatever perceived Hell she’s invited them to.

“Donna...” Sam lets his words hang in the air while both brothers huff and puff condensation into the frigid night air and fidget after her. “We’ve never been to a Christmas party or anything like that.” 

“That’s why you’re coming to mine. No excuses.” She spins on her heel and stares them down as they exchange looks and unspoken words.

Dean’s the one who breaks first. He swings his narrowed gaze back to her.

“Will there be mistletoe?” he asks pointedly.

Donna tries not to think about Dean and mistletoe at the same time. Not that she’s never imagined kissing him, but now is not the time.

She snorts and rolls her eyes. “Of course! What kinda Christmas party would it be without mistletoe?”

Dean grins before slapping his brother on the back. “Well, Sammy, looks like we’re gonna have Christmas after all. Ya know, one without a Wood Nymph.”

“Huh?” Donna furrows her brow in question.

Sam shakes his head. “Never mind, long story,” he mutters. “I guess we’ll follow you?”

Donna claps her hands together as she nods, bouncing on her toes. “You betcha!”

“Can’t believe we almost passed this up,” Dean mutters to Sam as they unpack their bags, making a load of laundry. They each showered in Donna’s guest bathroom and she gave them some old clean sweatpants and t-shirts of her dad’s to wear for the night.

“Yeah, it’s nice,” Sam agrees quietly, tossing his last pair of underwear to the floor. He’s pleased that Dean sees the value here in Donna’s home.

Ever since they defeated Chuck, Sam has tried a dozen different ways to get Dean out of the bunker and into a real house and real jobs. Dean seems frozen in time, though, like he can’t see that they can do just about anything they want now. They’re regular hunters — no angels or demons to battle (Jack and Rowena have seen to that). In fact, most of the monster world has quieted and stays in their own lanes.

“Imagine having this on the regular.” Sam tests the waters. “A washer and dryer from this century?” he chuckles, scooping up the dirty clothes and shaking his damp hair out of his face.

“Yeah, well, I doubt Donna wants a couple salty old hunters camped out in her guest room for the rest of her life.” Dean turns down the covers of his borrowed bed and inspects the pillow. “‘Sides, I like havin’ my own room.”

Sam watches Dean smooth his hands over the bedding, wondering...

He knows how Dean feels about Donna, even though his brother’s never put those feelings into words. Sam’s seen the way Dean looks at her, the way he touches her like she’s made of glass, and the tone of his voice when he says her name. Dean adores Donna, but even more than that, he wants her.

“What if...” Sam starts then pauses, shifting his weight. When Dean turns to face him with a questioning brow and wistful smile, he forges ahead. “What if you could share it with someone like Donna?”

Dean almost rolls his eyes as he slowly straightens his stance. His soft smile twists as he meets his brother’s gaze. Sam worries that he’s pushed Dean too far.

“And now we’re back to Donna deservin’ a lot better than...” Dean shakes his head and motions between himself and his duffle bag.

“Heya,” the woman in question sing-songs as she pokes her head around the door. “How ya doin’ in here? Need anything?”

Dean’s edge immediately smooths at the sight of the sheriff.

“Hey,” he answers with a quick, practiced grin. “We’re good. Better than. Just, uhh...” He reaches for the bundle in Sam’s arms. “Gonna throw this stuff in your washer if that’s okay?”

Sam notices the tiniest flush in Dean’s cheeks, and the sight squeezes his heart in his rib cage. Dean doesn’t think he deserves a life like this.

“Yep,” Donna replies, a bright smile gracing her freshly scrubbed and freckle-dusted face. “Right down the hall.”

“Alrighty then. Lead the way,” Dean says, following Donna to her laundry room.

Sam heaves a sigh before wandering to the small bookshelf in the corner for something to read.

Dean has nightmares almost every time he closes his eyes. Last night, he had a different kind of dream.

Donna was there, her soft blonde waves were piled on top of her head. Her fingers were floured and her big flannel shirt was dusted just the same. She laughed at his jokes and hummed through her smile when he wrapped his arms around her from behind. She smelled like butter and vanilla.

When he wakes, Sam’s already up and out of the room. A low light sneaks through the curtains, and Dean smells coffee. He rolls out of bed, runs his fingers through his hair, and makes his way to the bathroom across the hall.

“Dean, hey.”

Dean cocks his head and squints because it’s too damn early for pleasantries. It’s Kaia, though, and Dean owes that girl a lot of pleasant.

“Hey, kid. When’d you get in?” He turns toward her and she steps into his arms for a hug.

“‘Bout an hour ago,” she replies. “Claire’s in the kitchen.”

“‘Kay,” Dean answers pulling out of the hug with a lopsided smile. “Be there in a minute.”

Kaia nods and shuffles past him. “There’s coffee and french toast.”

“Nice,” Dean grunts, pushing through the bathroom door and switching the light on. When he sees his reflection, he groans. “Christ.”

His eyes are puffy and his hair’s sticking out in nine different directions. He shakes his head and sighs before taking care of business. Dean definitely puts the seat back down, washes his hands, and splashes his face and hair with water.

Before heading to the kitchen, he makes his bed and changes into his own clothes. As he shrugs into his flannel, he realizes it’s the one from his dream. The one Donna was wearing — his shirt and nothing else.

He could feel every dip and curve in his hands. She was so warm and soft. Dean’s thought about a hundred different ways to make her say his name the way she did in his dream. He can still hear her breathy voice in his head as he walks the length of the hallway toward the bright kitchen.

“Mornin’, sunshine,” Donna greets him first, and his skin flushes with heat.

Before he can focus too much on it, Claire sacks him without a word.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he murmurs, holding her close. He isn’t exactly the picture of emotional growth, but since Cas… well, he’s trying to be more present.

Dean closes his eyes and buries his nose in her messy hair. She’s been smoking, and probably drinking by the looks of it. “Takin’ care of yourself?” He pulls back, gripping her shoulders and looking her in the eyes.

Her smile is crooked, and her blue eyes are shot red and rimmed with black, but she’s still the strong little girl from Illinois whose daddy loved God enough to leave her.

Claire shrugs. “More’r less.”

Dean huffs a wry laugh, squeezing her shoulders before releasing her. “Sounds about right.”

“Heeeyyy.” Jody and Alex round the island to greet him with hugs and Patience isn’t far behind.

“Coffee?” Jody asks.

“Absolutely. I also heard there was french toast. Or did I miss it?” He turns to find Donna extending a plate heaped with carbs, and a steaming cup of joe. “Awesome.”

He accepts the proffered items from Donna with a hearty thanks.

Jody and the girls retreat to the dining room where Sam sits, doing a crossword puzzle. He looks up and Dean nods a good morning to him before sliding onto a stool at the island.

“So, uhh, dollar store, huh?” He digs into his breakfast, trying not to ogle Donna’s ass in her cute little red and white snowflake leggings. The phrase ‘thick thighs save lives’ will be stuck in his head for the rest of his stay here and he isn’t mad about it.

Donna nods as she turns to face him with her own cup of coffee. “And if I give you a list, can you pick up some wine?”

Dean bobs his head as he chews and his eyes roll back. “Oh, yeah... Yes, anything. Holy shit, this is good.” He’s momentarily distracted from objectifying his hostess by the un-fucking-believable french toast.

Donna chuckles, jutting a hip against the island. “Family recipe. Just like the smorgasbord for tonight.” She sips her coffee and watches him devour the rest of the meal in silence but for Dean’s moans and groans of satisfaction.

How many times has Donna thought about this? About Dean Winchester sitting at her kitchen island eating a breakfast and coffee that she made? About him enjoying it?

Experts say that good food and good sex share neural pathways. That a person’s reaction to good food is similar to their reactions to good sex. That theory takes on a whole new level of wow when applied to Dean.

Dean drains his mug and wipes his mouth.

“More... anything?” Donna asks innocently -- or so she thinks.

Until Dean’s gaze flicks to hers for a hot minute. She could write his hesitation off as morning brain, but then he drops his gaze to her mouth. He licks his bottom lip into his mouth then slowly drags it through his teeth.

Donna’s breath catches in her chest and her insides flip.

“Hey, so, we should hit that dollar store, and I think Donna wants us to grab a few bottles of wine, right?”

Sam realizes a beat too late that he’s walked in on something; Dean looks ready to attack and Donna’s cheeks are fuchsia. The younger Winchester’s gaze bounces around the tension between Dean and Donna before he clears his throat.

Dean blinks a couple of times and shakes his head. “Yeah... yeah, uhh...” He draws a deep breath and looks back up at Donna. “Got that list?”

Donna gnaws at the corner of her anxious grin. “Oh, yeah. I’ll text it to ya.”

Dean nods and pushes out of his barstool. The brothers find their boots and coats in the front closet. As they walk out the door, Donna calls from the kitchen.

“Oh, and Dean? When you get back, you need to help me find that mistletoe.”

The screen door slams shut behind them, and Sam laughs.

Chapter Two

Please don’t leave without telling me what you think!

[the-broken-truth]

If the Dryad!Male Reader really ended up being forced to reveal himself to the lords, on account of Mother Miranda using Heisenberg's machines to harm the forest, and from the ground the roots begin to grow and come out of the ground to shatter each machine and the green from the forest only the Male reader comes out with an annoyed expression, would Mother Miranda get even crazier when she met him face to face?

[The Dryad's Forest]

Heisenberg didn't know how Mother Miranda found out about his Metal Army but she did and she demanded that the 4th Lord use it for her will - locating the White-Haired Dryad and making him submit to Miranda as her husband. So far, none of her original plans have worked in drawing him out but after what Alcina told her - about the Dryad revealing himself when her daughters attacked a pregnant deer for food - she decided to attack the Dryad's Heart - The Forest and the Life within.

Miranda demanded that the Lords attend in watching her claim the man that would serve as her husband and the Lord of the Village, as much as the four didn't want to. Donna was intimidated by the metal army breaking the trees and slaughtering the animals while Heisenberg was commanding the army with his metal powers. He saw a wolf pack in the distance and forced one of his creations to attack the mother and her pups when out of nowhere, a cage of roots surrounded the wolves and lifted them out of harm's way. Karl was shocked but that shock turned to horror when the ground began to rumble and sharp roots shot from the earth, piercing the cores of the army, making them explode.

"My Army!" Karl roared out in anger but Miranda's eyes were wide and her mouth was curled up in a grin.

"He's here." She purred.

The Leader of the Village and the Lords watched as the trees began moving away and the figure of the Dryad walked out upon a bridge of roots before being lifted into the air to glare down at the people attacking his forest.

"You dare come here. Destroy my forest and slaughter my animals for your cruel sport. Why are you here and what do you want?" The White-Haired Dryad spoke, Miranda sprouted her wings and waved them, until she and her obsession were at the same eye level.

"I am Mother Miranda of the Romanian Village - I have been seeking you to rule the village beside me as my husband. You somehow managed to elude my Lords but I knew how to draw you out - the forest and the life within it. Come with me and be mine or I shall destroy the forest and everything within it" Miranda demanded with a crazed glare in her eyes.

"I want nothing to do with you or your village. Leave y forest or I shall slaughter your and your children." The Dryad demanded as he summoned roots to strike Mirnada.

"You have no choice, My Love, I shall have you and we shall make our own children even if you slaughter my Lords." Miranda smirked.

The words of the Leader of the Village made all of the Lords' Hearts grow cold.

[einsteinsugly]

Realistic interests for Eric, as inferred by canon.

Season 7 was a culmination of Eric lacking substantial interests, beyond his geeky hobbies. He wants to do more with his life, beyond Star Wars and comic books. Of course, he is more than willing to indulge in his geeky hobbies, just not as a main time gig. He clearly doesn't want to be like that comic book guy, working at a comic book store and living with his mother.

For the others, their interests are relatively obvious, and all can be used for substantial careers. Donna is interested in music, writing, and politics. Hyde is interested in music, cars, and occasionally politics (from a detached perspective). He's also a natural cook. Jackie is interested in fashion, cosmetics, and broadcast journalism, and is a good mechanic (though I doubt she'd go this route long term). Fez is interested in dance, theater, and cosmetology. Kelso is more of a wild card, but he's expressed clear interests in paleontology, astronomy (he wants to be an astronaut), computers/gaming, and is becoming a cop.

But for Eric, he has nothing but his mom's big heart and his dad's hero complex. He needs more meaning in life, beyond what his geeky hobbies can provide. These are some interests one can easily extrapolate from the show, and he can easily take on these endeavors through teaching. While helping others, of course.

*****

Filmography/photography: This one is the most obvious. He's a movie and TV buff, and literally tried becoming a documentary filmmaker. If he doesn't decide to go the teacher route, photojournalism seems to be right up his alley. After all, his hero Spiderman works as one.

History: He's very argumentative with Donna about the bomber gap debate in season 3. He also has a world map and a flag map on his bedroom walls. His love for GI Joes (not just as a kid) also gives him an inclination for military history, as well.

Astronomy: He loves Star Wars, so it isn't much of a stretch to infer that he would be interested in galaxies far, far away (and closer to home).

Writing/screenwriting: He writes for the paper, albeit briefly, in season 4. Screenwriting, as a movie and TV buff, seems to be right up his alley.

Social work/stuff in a similar vein: He has a big heart, like his mom, and wants to help others. Just not around blood and guts. Him being a school counselor or working for a nonprofit could definitely work for him. If he doesn't become a teacher, this path can easily scratch that compassionate itch.

Biology: He gave a passionate soliloquy on behalf of that deer in the hunting episode. He seems to also have an interest in nature and traveling, too.

Boating: He mentions wanting a sailboat in the season 6 Christmas ep. And Styx literally has a song called "Come Sail Away."

*****

Author's Note: I didn't really develop my interest for history and politics until my late teens/early twenties, so Eric just chilling out as kid is totally fathomable.