#voice lessons kansas city | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wiseoldowl72 · 2 years

Text

Suptober 2022 Day 1 - Maze

Finally I got my very first fiction in the Destiel/Supernatural fandom written and posted. It’s called The Blue Lady and lives on AO3, but I’m going to put it here too.

Suptober Day 1 - Maze

The Blue Lady

Dean and Cas are just chillin’ in their Kansas City Shirtwaist style home kitchen waiting on supper. Now that they’ve finally used their words and Dean has stopped the ever present voices from the past, he and Cas moved out of the bunker into one of Kansas City, Missouri’s southern neighborhoods. The three story home is a fixer-upper, but with good bones and built in the early 20th century. The new husbands are slowly making it their own, while still keeping their hands in the hunting community. It is definitely a boon to have an angel as a husband, mate, lover, and hunting partner.

Jack powered Cas up again after becoming God. Using the grace Dean already had, Jack gifted him with some qualities of an angel’s mate like a longer lifespan, the ability to be more sensitive to the different planes around him, faster healing, and Dean’s favorite, seeing his gorgeous husband’s massive wings anytime he wants. The couple choose to live a normal, mostly human, life knowing that when the time comes they will go to Heaven together reuniting with everyone at the Roadhouse until the end of time.

Sitting at the counter on his favorite stool Cas looks up from the laptop to tilt his head with that thoughtful look Dean loves so much. Seeing that something catches his love’s attention, Dean asks, “What did you find?”

Cas looks up, “I found some information on a salt and burn in a downtown historic hotel.” He lays out the story of the Marriott Muehlebach while Dean is cooking supper. Dean stands at the island chopping vegetables to make a stew since it is the beginning of fall and crisp evenings. Since his hands were occupied, Dean listens and occasionally looks over at Cas while he begins telling the facts and stories he’s found. Cas reads from several organizations, blogs, and online collections, “The original Muehlebach hotel was built in 1914-1915 over the destroyed remains of the original Kansas City First Baptist Church.”

“Over a church, huh.” Dean retorts.

Cas raises his eyebrow at Dean and continues unrattled, “The Muehlebachs, who emigrated from Switzerland prior to 1859, made their money in the Beer and Brewery business, going back to 1868. The Muehlebach hotel was 12 stories and held 500 rooms. It was the jewel of hospitality and opulence in Kansas City’s crown until the late 1960s when it was sold several times over the decades.”

As the stew goes on the stove to cook for several hours, Dean glances at Cas, who is completely absorbed by all the information he’s reading. Launching into another exposition, the angel conveys, “Starting in 1922 the hotel started broadcasting the first regular radio program that could eventually be heard nation-wide and overseas. It was the brainchild of Carleton Coon and Joe Sanders, two employees. They formed the Coon-Sanders Nighthawk Orchestra, eventually becoming a famous jazz band.”

Dean interrupts this history lesson asserting, “The members of that original Baptist church can’t be happy about their space being used by descendents of immigrants, making a fortune from beer, plus employees becoming famous musicians. Their prim and proper attitudes must be making them roll over in their graves or being our unhappy, not wanted guests.”

Cas, ever the professor type, drones on, “Only the best were hired to work at the hotel in public positions. It’s said that even the waiters could speak multiple languages.”

“So you’re telling me that the people who worked there were The Shit during the heyday of the hotel,” chimes in Dean.

Cas rolls his eyes. “It was also called the White House of the West. Harry Truman worked out of the Presidential Suite,” continued Cas, expecting to keep telling the hotel’s unique story.

“Let me see that,” Dean is very tired of listening to Cas do the research and turns the laptop toward him. “All these fucking facts and I still don’t understand who our salt and burn is from this hoity-toity palace.” Dean scans the page, seeing all the black and white facts Cas was reading through, then his eyes landed on the words, “The Legend of the Blue Lady.”

“Bingo!” hollered Dean as if he’d won the lottery. After all that droll, dry exposition he found the ghost and backstory in just a quick scan. “Ok Cas, you went on for over an hour, talking through dinner, washing the dishes, and cleaning up the kitchen. Why in the hell didn’t you just get to the point?” he asked, exasperated.

“I was quite enjoying myself. I didn’t think you’d mind the facts before we got to the unsettled spirit,” Cas replies, quite pragmatically, again with the cute bird tilt of his head and furrowed brow because he truly doesn’t understand Dean’s frustration. Moving on, Dean starts to read the info they really need. This salt and burn is needed because the ghost is getting more agitated as the appearances continue.

“ ‘The Legend of the Blue Lady’ apparently has been around for decades,” Dean reads from the info relating to the Salt and Burn. “She appears as a blonde woman, 30ish, in a blue dress styled like that of the 1920s.”

“Another distinct feature is the wide-brimmed hat she wears with her hair tucked up in it.” Cas contributes, reading over Dean’s shoulder, “She is said to have stayed at the hotel from time to time. She was also thought to be an actress from the Gayety Theater that was next door in the early half of the century. It is suggested that she is searching the Muehlebach hotel and grounds for her lost love.”

“This is interesting,” Dean pokes at the screen, “in 1952 the Muehlebach hotel under the direction of its current manager, Barney Allis, expanded the hotel over the demolished Gayety theater.”

“I hate romantic ghost stories. Something always goes sideways.” Dean complains after hearing what their simple salt and burn was turning into. “Do you have any other ideas or leads Cas?”

Cas shakes his head, but then puts his finger to his lips and adds, “What if it’s not a lover our Blue Lady is looking for. What if she’s unhappy with the management of the hotel for expanding over her beloved theater?”

“Now that’s an interesting theory,” Dean holds his hands out in front of him as if he can’t decide between the two. Over the next several days the men research both options using whatever history on the Gayety and Muehlebach is available.

“Turns out the Meuhlebach is a complex now. It changed hands many times.” Dean says out into the ether. “Wow, I’m done. We’ve spent days figuring out where the original hotel and first addition was exactly.” Dean was irritably complaining to Cas how long it was taking to look for this lady ghost, who may or may not have two reasons to make a fuss.

Now it was time to plan how to get into the oldest part of the hotel, deep inside a very large and very popular conference center. One thing they had to keep in mind was that the original hotel doors were kept locked. That little nugget figured heavily into the upcoming plans.

While Dean was looking into the hotel, Cas turned his focus to the Gayety Theater and who the Blue Lady could be. It was clear that after Barney Allis bought the Muehlebach in 1931, the hotel was run more like a military boot camp.

“Did you know that Allis held surprise inspections for staff to ensure perfection,” Cas turns to Dean. “He was known to rip an offending garment off an elevator operator because a button was tarnished or the jacket was not pressed correctly.” Cas looks curiously at Dean and asks, “What is a ‘Napoleon Complex?’ Allis was accused of it many times.”

Dean laughs, “Remember Zachy-Boy? That’s a Napoleon Complex, except he wasn’t short. I think Gabriel would be a better example when he was being a complete pain in the ass.” Now it was Dean’s turn to have a lightbulb moment, “What if Allis upset our actress with his douchey self and she lost her job?”

Cas lifts his eyebrow and nods at his husband.

“Two city blocks,” Dean says.

They stand in front of the main hotel. Dean shakes his head, a little intimidated at the amount of ground to cover.

“Plus the maze of alleys between the different buildings,” he sighs. “If we can get into some of the old hallways and guest rooms in the original hotel, maybe we’ll find something to solve this little mystery.”

“Dean, please tell me you have a plan to get from point A to point B?” Cas looks at his husband with the usual fear that he will ‘shoot first and ask questions later.’ Even being a powered up angel again didn’t stop Cas from worrying they would end up in the deep end of the pool without knowing it.

They load up Baby late in the day and before they got in the car Dean pushed Cas up against the gleaming metal and proceeded to kiss him deeply as a solid reminder they were in this together. Finally, they took their familiar positions, Dean driving and Cas riding shotgun.

Driving downtown in the evening, Dean absolutely doesn’t want anyone to ding Baby so they park at Barney Allis Plaza with plenty of space for the number one girl in the family. When they leave the Impala, and are finally up on ground level again Cas looks around at the fountains, greenery, park space and says mostly to himself, “This Barney Allis gentleman must have been good for the city if he has all this named after him.”

“I even found a fact about Allis you might not know, Cas,” Dean smirks, “Allis said not to die in a hotel you own. He sold the Muehlebach property in 1962 and then died three months later on the sidewalk in front of the Aladdin Hotel, which is just there,” Dean points, “Across the street from this parking garage, park combo.”

Even after seeing the complex on the maps and photos, the Marriott properties are impressive. Cas and Dean pat their pockets, reassuring themselves that they had their trusty weapons for dealing with a ghost.

Dean stands ramrod straight, his face taking on that “determined hunter” look.

“Remember Dean, we're supposed to fit in like we’re patrons.” Cas says gently.

“Duh Cas, I haven’t forgotten about that part of the plan.” Dean snaps, but relaxes.

A little.

Once past the lobby, Dean tries to figure out the maze they are working in. Once they get into the original hotel it will be more difficult to pose as guests. Thankfully there are sections available for banquets and conferences so they won’t look completely out of place.

“I feel like a mouse in a maze trying to figure out which hallway to go down or maneuvering to avoid staff.” Dean grumbles.

Calm as always, Cas recites, “This addition was put on property of the Gayety Theater. It was demolished in 1950 for the 1952 addition of the Muehlebach Towers. That building was torn down in 1996 to make the building we are in now.”

Dean ignores Cas, needing to focus on the now. He doesn’t care that he is in a building built in 1996, long after the Blue Lady died, and all traces of anything from her time had been obliterated over the decades. He tries to give off a sense of confidence as they slowly start moving through the building.

“I think we go around this way to get to the old Muehlebach.” Dean says, trying to sound more certain than he feels. It looks like a piece of cake to find the old hotel’s event spaces. The two walk slowly down seemingly endless hallways.

“Look Dean, I know this style of architecture. I remember watching buildings being built like this. It’s called Beau Arts and really appears opulent. We’re on the right path to the oldest part of the hotel.” Cas says happily.

They descend a set of stairs and the past unfolds in front of them: mosaic floor, thick wooden counters, the glint of floral and geometric brass trimmings on every fixture. Cas thinks back to when these details were not revival styles, but the real thing. “I really enjoy interacting with humanity, rather than watching,” he mutters under breath.

“Cas look at that! The front desk still has the original room key holder. It didn’t look like much in the photos, but 500 room key slots is cool.” Dean turns in a slow circle, “I don’t think I’ve seen so much brass in one place. I don’t know architectural styles for shit, but this is really fuckin’ amazing.” Dean breathes to re-ground himself. “I’ve never seen anything like it in person. A big brass mailbox –”

“‘Letter box,” Cas corrects him. Dean ignores it.

“...a bronze water fountain with a natural design inside it that still works, and these mosaic floors,” Dean swings his arm in a broad gesture, “Make me feel like I’m in Rome or Greece.”

“You don’t need to know architecture to appreciate it, Dean. It seems we found where we are starting this labyrinthian hunt.” Cas says casually. “This is the old part of the hotel. We need to disappear into the non-public places.” Of course the Blue Lady might be out in the public today, but if they can find an area she likes to frequent so much the better.

“Cas, can you feel her at all? Any left over impressions?” Dean asks, hoping to get a better read on the place.

“None, There has been so much activity in this block that actually I’m feeling quite overwhelmed by the sensations.” Cas replies. Dean hangs his head. He was really hoping Cas could help out here. Who knew that angel senses could get lost in ethereal static leftovers?

“Alrighty then, up we go. As much as I want to stay in the public places, she’s not going to be here. Start looking for the stairs, sweetheart,” Dean calls over his shoulder walking away. “We have 500 rooms and hallways to walk through, staircases to climb.” Dean scoffs, “Hamster…maze…again.”

“Dean, you are not a hamster, beloved, maybe a squirrel or guinea pig. Guinea pigs are cute and smart.”

“Fuck you, Cas.” Dean laughs heartily. “Start walking you freakin’ angel.”

At the end of the hallway Cas sees a door with a rusted sign that says

Stairs

“Stairs,” he supplies helpfully

“Oh joy, and only 12 stories to check.” Dean says in his hunter voice.

Four hours of searching later, Dean leads the way down the fifth floor hallway, his eyes pausing on every door. The room numbers are tarnished but still legible.

“They completely emptied this place out,” Dean muses. “Didn’t even leave the light fixtures.”

Dean stops suddenly. “Babe, come here.”

“512,” Cas reads. “I am feeling a sense of unease. It is a female, but I’m not sure if the energy is anger though.” Cocking his head, Cas continues, “I feel that it’s more of a sense of longing and frustration.” He puts his hand on the door, fingers spread. “Definitely something in this room.”

“Fuckin’ A, let’s get in there and see what we find.” Dean remarks with more emotion than since they started working the maze of floors and hallways. “All the furnishings are gone, wires hanging off the walls. Let’s see if it is holding any secrets.” Dean looks at Cas and begins his search.

Cas catches a glimpse of blue in the detritus left in a corner. “Hey beloved, look over here,” Cas carefully picks up the fabric and closes his eyes. After a moment of concentration, he says, “It’s her’s. Our Blue Lady stayed in this room at least once and left a part of her clothing behind.” The fabric is torn and very old.

“Okay pragmatic one, let’s assume you’re right, we got our location. Odd though we still haven’t seen any manifestation of our girl.”

Dean takes the cloth delicately. As if conjured by the material a soft, plaintive sob is heard. “Great, I had to go and say something, Moaning Myrtle is in the house.” Dean sighs.

“I don’t get a vengeful feeling from our ghost. I feel she’s tired. She took out her anger decades ago, but now can’t rest.” Cas says, zeroing in on the emotions in the room.

“I guess those angel senses are finally switching on,” says Dean sarcastically. “I’m glad this isn’t a physical hunt so far, except for a lot of walking. I’m not as young as I used to be.” His knees crack as he kneels down to examine something. Still not understanding how humans perceive time, Cas gazes at his husband, trying to see the differences from just a few years.

“Hey, look down here. What is this, something paper?” Dean grabs Cas’ attention. He slips the tip of his knife behind the top edge of the baseboard and pulls, revealing a photograph. Cas reaches in quickly and retrieves it.

“Beloved, I think you found our Blue Lady.” Cas turns it and reads text on the back. “This was taken by Orval Hixon, one of the most prominent photographers of performers in the early part of the 20th century in Kansas City.” Cas says. Dean glances down at the floor with a twinkle in his eye remembering that his angel can’t not infuse his speech with facts. One of the many reasons he’s glad he got his head out of his ass and allows himself to love the man fully and completely.

Dean looks at the photo with the decorative paperboard frame protecting the edges of the original photo adhered to a stiff backing. “Cas, you did most of the research on the Gayety Theater and the Blue Lady, does this look anything like her from the descriptions you read.” Dean asks. “I mean, every color looks gray, so…”

“Actually yes. Look close at the pattern on her dress, it’s the same as on the cloth I found. Here’s what we know: the woman in this photo has light hair like in the stories, she’s holding a wide brimmed hat, and she’s dressed like the 1920s. It all matches.”

Cas frowns. “Does she look pleased or happy to you, beloved?” Cas has to admit to himself he really doesn’t have a good grip of normal facial cues.

“She does look pleasant,” Dean murmurs as he turns the photograph over and reads for himself. The penciled letters are faint and barely legible. “Score! Our girl is named Minnie Lantry and it is a publicity photo. I can’t read the rest…”

With his angel’s eyes, Cas reads, “Minnie Lantry. Actress, Dancer, Singer. Currently employed at the Gayety Theater. 1926 taken by Orval Hixton.” In a different and more delicate hand is written, “This is my favorite blue dress and hat. I hope this gets me even more jobs.” Cas turns the photograph to examine it at different angles. “There isn’t any other identifying information.”

The plaintive voice changes as Cas reads, sounding calmer, no longer moaning. It’s as if a precious item was found.

“So many of the theaters were destroyed in the name of profits and business. I can see why Minnie was upset and frustrated with people like Barney Allis for tearing down the entertainment establishments.” Cas looks into Dean’s face. “I’m convinced that it wasn't a lover that the Blue Lady is searching for.”

Dean nods. “The facts are pointing to our douche with the Small Man Complex as the one who caused Minnie’s sorrow and frustration. Both emotions are extremely powerful and could keep a soul here on earth.” He turns toward the door, relieved to be leaving.

“Okay we have all we need from here. Now it’s time to figure out where Miss Minnie is buried so we can burn her bones and give her rest.”

Cas stops him, saying, “Love, please give me the cloth and the photograph. I need to put them in an appropriately warded container so we aren’t taking any chances with possible cursed objects while we research where Ms. Lantry is buried.” Dean nods and hands over the objects.

Back in the lobby, Dean expresses his amazement with the wealth built into the hotel. “I still can’t get over the amount of marble and brass they used. Even the drinking fountains were solid brass.” Light from above draws Dean’s attention to the intricate chandeliers that make the fixtures in his home look so small.

“It’s quite unique that this original hotel was built in just one year, for 2 million dollars and without electricity, or other modern conveniences.” Cas asserts calmly, putting a hand on Dean’s left shoulder. “You needn’t run. Act casual”

“The faster we are driving home the happier I’ll be,” Dean grouses.

For the next couple of days Cas enjoys himself looking into the historic cemeteries in Kansas City.

“Dean, I’ve found her. Minnie Lantry is buried in Elmwood Cemetery. I have a general idea where she is. When do you want to salt and burn her and the photo and cloth?”

“How about tomorrow since it’s a weekday and we probably won’t run into anyone.” Dean replies, looking at the laptop over Cas’ shoulder. “How do we get there?”

“East on…” Cas traces with his finger, “Truman Road. Right there.”

Late the next night, Dean parks Baby on a side street across from the cemetery gates.

“Locked.” Cas needlessly informs Dean.

“Uh-huh. Guess it’s over the fence,” Dean sighs to Cas, “I wish you could still fly us places, I really don’t like wrought iron fences with pointy bits on top.”

Dean checks his inventory of tools: shovel, salt, gasoline, warded container, flashlights, matches, and the two climb the fence.

Looking at a pencil sketch of the roads, Cas points a direction and they begin walking.

“Beloved,” Cas begins, “did you know that this cemetery is the second oldest in the city, founded in 1872. Many notable Kansas Citians are buried here, including –”

Dean interrupts the monologue before Cas can get a good head of steam. “Babe, I know you love facts, but I want to find Minnie. I’m chilly, carrying fifty pounds or so of office supplies, not sure how far I’m walking tonight and I want to get this burn over with. From what I remember of the map online, these graves are packed in here.”

They pause at an intersection. Cas apologizes,” I tried to narrow down where Minnie was in this forty-three acre cemetery. I think you would refer to this as a ‘Find-a-Grave Fail’ since I couldn’t find the specific place.”

“A lot of walking,” Dean shrugs. “What’re you gonna do?”

After a while, Cas begins to lag behind. There are presences clamoring for his attention.

“These mausoleums are The Shit,” Dean says loudly, regaining Cas’ attention. “Hey Cas, I found Waldo!” Dean laughs, pointing at a carved name.

Cas catches up, chuckling at the Waldo reference, having enough children’s books that he gets this joke, at least. “Dean, this cemetery is very unsettled. So many souls are not at rest.”

“We can’t salt and burn the entire place. Come on, let’s check this first place you marked.” Dean rejoins. “At least we’re walking a road and not a hillside filled with mole-holes.”

They walk in silence for a while, each noticing in his own way the differences between memorials. “There’s a huge, ornate mausoleum,” Cas says, then points to a shape barely visible in the dark, “And that’s just a rock with a name. It fascinates me how you humans obsess about permanence in so many different ways.”

“It’s all about the money, for all the good it does them after they’re just bones.”

Cass stops and says, “We’re here. First one.”

“Good, I was about to ask you ‘how much longer’ “ Dean replies tiredly. “I’m just not in fighting shape anymore since we don’t hunt as much.” After another quarter mile Dean says surprised, “Do you see the building built into the hillside and the tall, old maple tree?”

“That’s how I marked this area for Minnie. It’s an older spot in the cemetery with graves from the late 19th Century up through the time frame we’re looking for. The main landmark I focused on is the sandstone building. Being built into the hillside like that, and its size, it’s very possible this could have been a temporary internment vault when the weather was too inclement to bury someone.” Cas affirms.

It is Dean’s turn to be thoughtful. Gratefully, he puts down the supplies and considers the building. “Interesting idea Cas. It’s entirely stone built into the hillside. With all the arches sealed up, do you think it’s used at all anymore?” Dean considers. “You’ve got iron gates padlocked shut over plywood doors there,” he points. “Shed doors there. The others are just filled up with stones. Looks like someone has found their way in,” Dean murmurs, pointing at a person-sized hole in one arch corner. He would love to go exploring there himself, but not tonight. He’s got a shit ton of work left to do tonight and he doesn’t even know if he’s in the right place.

“Dean, come here now!” Cas commands, standing next to the maple tree. “I found her. ‘Millie Lantry’,” he reads, “Born 1900. Give me the shovel.”

No one outside the cemetery hears the sound of the gasoline catching, or sees the fire. The flames do not leap into the air. They flow around the grave and rise slowly, not the conflagration Dean and Cas are used to, but a rising warmth.

Cas sees a figure in the light. Blond haired, wearing a blue dress and wide brimmed hat…

And a smile.

Cas watches her fade. “It’s done,” he says. “She can rest now.”

By the time the dirt is replaced into the grave, Millie Lantry is at peace. “Cas, I’m going to rest over here by the maple tree for a few minutes. Do you mind getting the rest of our various shit together for the walk back?”

“You’re whining,” Cas says fondly.

“Don’t care. I need a few minutes.”

After a while the hunter stands up, pulling himself back together. “That angel strength comes in handy when heavy labor is needed. Thank you sweetheart for your help.”

Dean wipes his jeans to get the dust, dew, and other accumulations off his hands and forearms. “I did think that stone next to Millie’s just laying in the ground with the willow tree on it was pretty. Marble you think?”

Cas remains patiently silent.

“Okay, let’s get out of here, Babe.”

They decide to take the rest of the loop back to the front gates. Since they aren’t carrying as much weight this time they look at the names on the stones as they walk. “Hey, there’s a Muehlebach over there.” Dean calls out to Cas, who is looking on the other side of the road.

“Oh yes, George E. Muehlebach, Jr’s youngest brother, wife and her parents are buried in that plot. Carl Muehlebach was the President and Chairman of the Muehlebach Estate Company when he died in 1946. He lived in the Muehlebach Hotel.” Cas recites. The Patriarch of the family, along with other Meuhlebachs are buried in Calvary Cemetery closer to where we live.”

Even after all these years, Dean is still astounded how Cas just looks at a page once and memorizes everything on it.

“Interestly enough,” Cas continues, “Barney Allis has the most unique of them all. He emigrated from Poland and is buried in the second oldest Jewish Cemetery in Kansas City named Sheffield. It’s so much smaller than this one. It only has 5,500 graves. It is made up of several different Congregations that merged in the early part of the 20th century. His given name also meant Bear in Hebrew according to his gravestone.”

“Ok, I’ll give you that one. Ha! The douche with Small Man Complex was by birth a scary dude. No wonder Millie had that resigned feeling as well. The Gentile cemetery could learn a lot from the Jewish cemeteries.” Dean agrees.

Their conversation takes them all the way back to the front gates. “Time to get out of here. Do you want to go home or…Town Topic is open all night. Burgers?” Dean absolutely knows Cas would never say no to a cheeseburger from a greasy diner, and of course, they also serve pie.

A few days later Dean walks into the bedroom with just a towel around his waist, scratching at his forearms and his hands. He’s just taken a scalding hot shower trying to figure out why he has a rash and is so red. “Hey sweetheart, can you come here for a minute?” Dean says. “I feel like I have fire ants on and under my skin.”

Cas takes one look at him and grabs the smartphone, “Beloved, I do believe you’ve been exposed to something that poisons the body. Let me take a picture and then do a reverse image search.”

Dean scowls while all this is going on. “Things have been going so well. The Blue Lady had her name rediscovered and Ms. Minnie Lantry is at peace. And who in their right mind turns down Town Topic? The hunt went well. I mean, mostly” Dean just grumbles to the room in general.

“Aha,” Cas says mournfully, putting down the phone. “Oh Dean, remember when we were doing the salt and burn? All those leaves on the maple tree and on the vines around it were actually Poison Ivy. Oh beloved.” Cas looks apologetic as he relays the information he found. “I even brought home a handful of them. They were pretty.”

“Son of a Bitch. Fuckin’ Hell, Poison Ivy.” Dean says angrily. He sits on the edge of the bed, scratching.

#suptober22 #my first fanfic #salt and burn #supernatural #kansas city

17 notes · View notes

vatt-world · 1 year

Text

quick execution /////////////////////////////////////////////// 2004 albany,gymnastics albany,fresno,atl jobs nydot

spend long hours .. have short term / long term

2005 gymnastics albany,st louis,nyc,philly jobs spx,mastercard

2006 az,mexico,slc jobs wellsfargo,ge

2007 videos/YT videos slc,buffalo,kansas city jobs assurant,umb

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

2008 short films kansas,okemos jobs jackson

2009 short films okemos,va,nj jobs orvis,vzw

2010 nj jobs vzw

2011 classes- standup, stella, improv,usc screenwriting,ted bardy jobs- bbh,ice,aergo,boa shoots - s in ny

2012- gotham music,hb studio-uta hagen,speech,improv, jobs- boa shoots- tell,reflection

2013- improv,miesner intensive jobs- boston,mitsubhshi,dovetail,

shoots - s in ny

2014-hb studio,improv,penny shoots s in ny jobs- harrisburg,synchrony,

2015-sam schekel,maggie,improv,second city,standup , vover shoots pickups,start writer jobs- charlotte,ge,

2016 jobs boston class terry things we did lessons learnt shoot drew barrymore,louis ck…

2017 jobs charlotte malvern,jpmc class esper studio things we did lessons learnt shoot

2018 jobs jpmc class esper studio,new school,sva writing/cinemtography ,hb studio.. things we did lessons learnt shoot writer,Pat

2019 jobs jpmc,boa,maryland,philly class todd stephens,kaplan,voice,singing,williamsburg..editing.. things we did lessons learnt shoot Pat alien,lala land1/2.

2020 david newer / accent / singing

2021 jobs

2022 jobs

2023 classes- gotham song writing , hb studio acting /voice , linkalater, story writing ,ucla singing class

1 note · View note

andybondurant · 1 year

Text

New Post has been published on Andy Bondurant

New Post has been published on https://andybondurant.com/2023/06/06/contemplation-god-in-creation/

Contemplation: God in Creation

A few years ago, I traveled with our church youth group on their annual Summer Camp. You need to understand something about how our church does youth camp…it’s not normal. Like most church camps, we travel to a remote camp location with activities, chapels and sleeping bags. What sets this youth camp apart is what happens around that tradition.

The Ultimate Road Trip

It’s an ultimate road trip. The year I participated, we traveled from our home in the KC suburbs through Nebraska and South Dakota for a short stop at Mt Rushmore. From there we drove across the plains of Wyoming into the open sky lands of Montana. We rode past Billings and Bozeman and through Missoula until we arrived in Glacier National Park. After an unbelievable hike in Glacier, bathing in an ice cold lake and a few nights in tents we headed to Yellowstone and then finally to our camp location in Wyoming.

There are lots of memories that stand out about this journey, but let me share two with you. First, I had never been that far north during the summer. While in Kansas the summer light lasts until about 9pm, in Glacier, it wasn’t truly dark until closer to 11pm. As we drove to our campsite near the park, I kept wondering when it would be dark. I mean not twilight but truly dark. We were in the middle of nowhere, with no city lights, and it still wasn’t dark.

I wasn’t prepared for this, but it helps explain the immensity of my other memory. We finally arrived to our campsite a little after midnight. It was completely dark, and we were busy figuring out the sleeping arrangements (setting up tents) for the 40 people with us. After unloading a trailer of luggage, food, tents, arranging and setting up tents, and getting the students to their assigned tents with all their luggage (a much more difficult task when dealing with the dozen or more junior high students on the trip), I finally had a moment to look around.

I heard God in the silence of the night sky

For years I lived 20 minutes outside the suburbs of Kansas City. I regularly spent time beyond our small town lights. I have often seen the stars in the country night sky. This background doesn’t hold a candle to what I saw in Montana that night. The sky was perfectly clear. The best way I can describe what I experienced was the feeling of being in a planetarium. A doom of stars in 360 degrees surrounded me. A group of 4 or 5 of us stood and looked in awe.

Image by Denis Degioanni on UnSplash

In that moment I experienced God. To put it another way, I heard God. It wasn’t an audible voice. The experience wasn’t some sort of moral lesson for me to pass on. What I heard was the existence, majesty and vastness of God. I knew God is.

Contemplation: See + Be God

The ancients call this experience I had contemplation. Contemplation, among others, is way we hear God. After a bit of study on the concept of contemplation, I developed this definition of contemplation:

Contemplation is seeing God in the world around us and being God to the world around us.

There are three basic ways I’ve seen to contemplate God.

We contemplate God through culture.

We contemplate God through creation.

We contemplate God through every day life.

Contemplation in Creation: God exists in glory

Of three ways of contemplation, I find contemplating God through creation to be the most natural. When we view and study nature in both the macro and micro, it points us to an intelligent design. Because there seems to be an intelligence to the design of nature, then it speaks of an intelligent Designer behind the design.

The Poet-King, David, wrote about his experience with contemplation in Psalms 19.

“The heavens proclaim the glory of God. The skies display his craftsmanship. Day after day they continue to speak; night after night they make him known. They speak without a sound or word; their voice is never heard. Yet their message has gone throughout the earth, and their words to all the world. God has made a home in the heavens for the sun.” ‭‭‬‬

Psalms‬ ‭19‬:‭1‬-‭4‬ ‭NLT

Contemplation in Creation: God cares

When I look at nature, I see God. But I don’t just see that God exists, I see that God cares.

Take as an example bats. Yes, the winged, flying bats that get such a bad rap from vampire mythology. It’s estimated that insect eating bats save American farmers between $3.7B and $53B every year in pesticide costs. This doesn’t include the costs on the ecosystem if bats didn’t exist (like the ability for insects to adapt to pesticides). God cares for us by creating bats to naturally suppress insects that would destroy crops and could overrun our world.

Now think about your own body. Get this, you have between 60,000-100,000 miles of blood vessels in your body. If we were to take these blood vessels out of your body and lay them end-to-end, they would stretch around the world more than three times. God cares enough about you to oversee 60,000+ miles of blood vessels in your body.

Again, David writes about the delicate care of God to put us together perfectly:

“You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body and knit me together in my mother’s womb. Thank you for making me so wonderfully complex! Your workmanship is marvelous—how well I know it.”

‭‭Psalms‬ ‭139‬:‭13‬-‭14‬ ‭NLT‬‬

When I contemplate nature – whether it is out in the wild or within my own body – I see God is both glorious and he cares for me. Do you see God in creation?

How to Contemplate in Creation

David makes it clear creation is a natural way to contemplate God. So how do we do it? Here are three tips (and yes, these tips are the same as contemplating God in culture):

1. Ask God to open your eyes.

I’ve made it a practice as I meditate in the morning to ask the Holy Spirit to fill me fresh for the day. As part of this process, I ask him to open my eyes and ears to see and hear him throughout the day. A great first step to seeing God in creation is asking him to reveal himself to you.

2. Train yourself to see God in creation.

For many of us, we’ve learned to compartmentalize the secular and the sacred. We have taught ourselves to that God belongs in his box, and the world belongs in a different box. We need to train ourselves to see God doesn’t remove himself from either box.

When you take a walk or you make a road trip (even if it’s just an hour away) look at God’s creation. When you learn something about the human body or the natural world ask yourself what that tells you about God. Determine how it displays God’s glory and majesty, and how it reminds you of his care for you and all of humanity.

3. Share what you see with others.

I love talking about my trip to Montana. I have other stories of looking into the Grand Canyon, running from tornadoes and climbing an active volcano. All of them end with sharing the power, majesty and care of God.

Contemplation isn’t just seeing God in creation, it is using what we see to be God to the world around us. So when you are having a conversation about your walk in the park or discovery about the world, share how creation points you to the glory of God.

God as creator is both glorious and caring. Do you see God in the culture around you?

#Contemplation #create #creation #David #glory #God #God's Glory #God’s voice #hear God #Psalms

0 notes

joomma · 2 years

Text

Cattle Dog Ugly Christmas Sweater

Cattle Dog Ugly Christmas Sweater

One of Cattle Dog Ugly Christmas Sweater is by the Transiberian Orchestera as described in Wikipedia: Late one Christmas night in spring 1827, Ludwig van Beethoven has completed his masterpiece, his Tenth Symphony (which in reality, was never completed). Just as this work is finished, Fate and her deformed son Twist (as in ‘Twist of Fate’) arrive in his home and inform the composer of what he had expected for a long while: that this night was the night of his death. After this explanation, the Devil arrives to claim Beethoven’s soul. He offers the composer a deal; Mephistopheles will allow Beethoven to keep his soul if he may erase the memory of Beethoven’s works from all mankind. Beethoven is given one hour to consider and Mephistopheles leaves the room.

buy it now:Cattle Dog Ugly Christmas Sweater

New Orleans Saints Christmas Grinch Ugly Christmas Sweater Saints Christmas Sweater

Christmas Cactus Santa Christmas Gift Christmas Sweater

Kansas City Chiefs Christmas Grinch Ugly Christmas Sweater Chiefs Christmas Sweater

Star Wars Christmas Sweater, Boba Star Wars Ugly Christmas Sweater

Cute Alaskan Christmas Gift Dog Lover Ugly Christmas Sweater

A very few do and lots of voice therapy lessons do, some actor speaking exercises help this too. Most people have a Budweiser Beer Cheap Hawaiian Shirt singing voice that just needs to have the vocal cords helped by developing the control of muscles in the major areas already mentioned, including the tongue and lower jaw. It’s similar to how you can make a blade of grass into a whistle by holding it between two thumbs: only with the proper control of the pressure from the thumbs will the grass vibrate. If you can’t do that, it’s not the fault of the grass, it’s that your thumbs are not doing it correctly. That’s a direct parallel to how your vocal cords work. You develop control of the area around the vocal cords and then pump air through that area and get the vocal cords right in the path of the air. You can play vocal cords higher/lower, louder/softer, just like a blade of grass. See!

Homepage: limotees jeeppremium telotee

Gearbloom is your one-stop online shop for printed t-shirts, hoodies, phone cases, stickers, posters, mugs, and more…High quality original T-shirts. Digital printing in the USA.

Worldwide shipping. No Minimums. 1000s of Unique Designs. Worldwide shipping. Fast Delivery. 100% Quality Guarantee. to cover all your needs.

By contacting directly with suppliers, we are dedicated to provide you with the latest fashion with fair price.We redefine trends, design excellence and bring exceptional quality to satisfy the needs of every aspiring fashionista.

WHAT IS OUR MISSION?

Gearbloom is established with a clear vision: to provide the very latest products with compelling designs, exceptional value and superb customer service for everyone.

We offer a select choice of millions of Unique Designs for T-shirts, Hoodies, Mugs, Posters and more to cover all your needs.

WHY SHOP WITH US?

Why do customers come to

Well we think there are a few reasons:

BEST PRICING

Fashion field involves the best minds to carefully craft the design. The t-shirt industry is a very competitive field and involves many risks. The cost per t-shirt varies proportionally to the total quantity of t-shirts. We are manufacturing exceptional-quality t-shirts at a very competitive price.

PRINT QUALITY DIFFERENCE

We use only the best DTG printers available to produce the finest-quality images possible that won’t wash out of the shirts.

DELIVERY IS VERY FAST

Estimated shipping times:

United States : 1-5 business days

Canada : 3-7 business days

International : from 1-2 weeks depending on proximity to Detroit, MI.

CUSTOM AND PERSONALIZED ORDERS

Custom orders are always welcome. We can customize all of our designs to your needs! Please feel free to contact us if you have any questions.

PAYMENT DO WE ACCEPT?

We currently accept the following forms of payment:

Credit Or Debit Cards: We accept Visa, Mastercard, American Express, Discover, Diners Club, JCB, Union Pay and Apple Pay from customers worldwide.

PayPal: PayPal allows members to have a personal account linked to any bank account or credit card for easy payment at checkout.

0 notes

musichouseschool9 · 4 years

Text

Prairie village music academy

Regardless of whether you're an outright amateur or have been playing for quite a long time, you'll locate a home here. We are music academy in prairie village, call us today at 913.562.4112 .Private music exercises are just a single piece of what you can do at Music House School of Music. Venture into a universe of execution openings, bunch music classes, musical gangs and troupes, and an assorted index of free end of the week music classes.

#music house lenexa #private music lessons near me #adult piano lessons near me #voice lessons kansas city

1 note · View note

musichouse · 1 year

Text

Improve Music Skills with Private Music Lessons

Improve your music skills with private music lessons at Music House School of Music. We offers a wide range of private lessons for guitar, piano, voice, drums, and more. Our expert instructors and a supportive community, Music House is dedicated to providing a positive and engaging learning experience for musicians of all ages. Start your musical journey and schedule a call today at 913-562-4112.

#private music lessons #voice lessons kansas city #music lessons kansas city #private music lessons near me

2 notes · View notes

maybege · 3 years

Text

Springfield Ripper - FBI Part 4

Summary: You go undercover but that is not the scariest part of the night. (Part 4 of the FBI Series)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!Reader

Wordcount: 2.6k | Rating: T

Warnings: canon typical mentions of murder and sexual assault, a little bit of flirting, mentions of vomit

Okay so this is much earlier than anticipated but I got a few new readers and followers (thanks to a shoutout by the wonderful and supportive @shmaptainhotchner) and as a thank you, I wanted to post this part early. I know there is a long wait between the parts and since I haven’t had a lot of parts posted, I thought it might be good to give you all a chance to what kind of direction this story is going in. As always, let me know what you think!

masterlist | crossposted on AO3 (will be up tomorrow!)

Four hours later, you stood in the changing room. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, fear gripping you. Were you really about to do this?

You had spent the entire day mentally preparing for this moment, talking with Morgan to ensure you knew where everybody was in case things got sticky and had had a brief 20-minute lesson with Emily when it came to self-defence. Your gun certification might be fresh but you still felt safer with a little repetition of the most important moves.

Together with JJ and Morgan, you had managed to drive back to the hotel and check into the rooms Garcia had organized for you. You had not managed to do much more besides you putting your bag on top of the dresser but you were already exhausted and could not wait to finally sink into the pillows tonight.

Provided you would have caught the UnSub, of course.

Hotch and Rossi had disappeared to talk to the family’s again, trying to find out how the UnSub had gotten into the victims’ apartments undetected. When they had come back, Hotch had nodded at you, his face serious, and you knew he was encouraging you. You were doing the right thing. Everything would be fine.

Looking at yourself in the mirror opposite the lockers for the employees, you took a deep breath. You were wearing a short, bright red bodycon dress that barely covered your ass paired with high stilettos whose straps wrapped all-around your claves up to your knees.

The clothes had been provided from someone’s sister’s daughter’s friend’s Halloween costume from college and that is exactly how you felt. Like you were wearing an elaborate costume.

You frowned, trying to tug the hem at least a little bit lower because while you knew you needed to flash some skin to not be too obviously out of place, you also did not want to accidentally flash anybody. Certainly not your colleagues. Or your boss.

Really not your boss.

A knock sounded on the door and a few moments later, you spotted your boss behind you in the mirror.

“Oh, sorry,” you rushed to say, turning around to face him, “I did not mean to stall. Is it time already?”

Hotch was standing in front of you, straight as a rod, one hand in his pocket while the other was clenched into a fist, his thumb rubbing over his knuckles. He had lost his suit jacket somewhere and you could not help your eyes roam over his shoulders, his chest, the blue tie he was wearing.

Get your shit together, this is not the time to be thirsting over your boss.

“This is the first undercover job you are partaking in since Kansas City.”

It was not a question, still, you nodded your head, “Yes, Sir.”

The look on his face made you bite your lip, “Sorry, Hotch.”

“Emily asked me to help you wire you up,” he held up the device as if to prove that he was saying was true, “Do you need help?”

“Uh, yes please,” you nodded, turning your back to him, “I know it’s supposed to attach to the zipper but I have a hard time figuring out how to do it myself.”

Hotch did not say anything but simply stepped behind you. Sometimes you forgot how tall he actually was. Sure, he had an intimidating presence just from the frown on his face and how he held himself and his voice (god, his voice) but he was also physically towering over most people in the team and over you.

You felt his fingers gently pull down the zipper and you were hyper-aware of how shivers rolled down your spine just from his proximity.

“You made some good observations today,” he commented, his fingers gently attaching the wire to the zipper.

“Thank you,” you replied, trying to keep your voice calm. His fingertips were gentle as he checked that the wire was attached right, coincidentally brushing up and down your spine. Your skin felt overheated, flush with the excitement of having him touch you, and you cursed yourself for how just the simplest touch made you melt on the spot.

This was your boss for god’s sake!

“Remember to keep engagement at a minimum,” he reminded you calmly, slowly pulling up the zipper of your dress, his breath washing over the back of your neck, “You will only want to observe and keep an eye out for suspicious interactions. Men that the locals react fearful or hesitant to.”

You nodded, “Just stand there and look pretty and don’t go into strangers’ cars,” you tried to joke even though your mouth felt way too dry, “got it.”

“You will do well,” he smiled, your heart fluttering at how warm his eyes were, “Now let’s get going.”

Springfield was freezing at night.

And the longer you stood outside, the worse it got. You tried your best not to let show how the cold got to you but by 2 am you had your arms wrapped around your middle, shifting from left to right in an attempt to keep yourself warm.

The entire night you had watched from the sidewalk as the women walked up to cars, some already familiar with the men inside while others seemed to negotiate a one-time thing. But they all came back.

That and it seemed that they were well aware of what had happened in the other neighbourhoods. “Stay where we can see you,” one of the women had told you, nodding towards the cars, “There’s a crazy person going around and killing us. Got to keep an eye out for each other.”

You had only smiled in thanks, your eyes drifting to one of the cars in the parking lot across the street. You knew Morgan was sitting in there, keeping an eye on you in case things got tricky. You appreciated the visual assurance that you were not alone.

But the truth of the matter was that the UnSub did not show up. Or rather, the women all seemed to know the men that did.

“I don’t think we will find anyone tonight,” you murmured in your earpiece, looking at the other women who eyed you just as suspiciously, “And I don’t think I can stay here any longer without being questioned myself.

“Copy that,” Morgan said in your ear, “Hotch is coming over. We will meet back at the PD.”

You shifted on your feet, a cold wind making goosebumps appear on your arms and legs when you spotted a car approaching the street. A giant black SUV to be exact, one whose driver you recognized instantly.

The car pulled up in front of you, the window to the passenger’s side sliding down with a whirr. You grinned, bending down to the window, sticking out your ass playfully. You had to sell it after all.

“Can I help you, Sir?” you asked, loud enough for the other women to hear you.

Seeing your good mood and maybe because he wanted to indulge you, Hotch leant over the middle console, resting on his forearm. His suit jacket was discarded somewhere because the sleeves of his shirt were cuffed up and you but your lip.

“Yes, I seem to have lost my way,” he said, acting confused, although the smile on his lips betrayed him, “Care to help a man out?”

“I don’t know,” you sighed, resting your arms on the car and you did not miss the way his eyes darted to your cleavage, “I am a luxury few can afford. What do you have to offer?”

Hotch’s eyes twinkled and your heart beat faster when you saw a dimple appear in his cheek. You had made him laugh. You alone.

“Well, the tie’s Gucci,” he offered, one hand holding out the patterned piece of clothing, and he cocked his eyebrows and you swore your heart was this close to flying out of your chest, “Is that enough?”

You grinned, “Well that will just have to be enough.”

He chuckled, opening the car for you from the inside, “Come on, let’s get going.”

As soon as you closed the door behind you, the locks clicked and the window slid up, shutting out the cold air.

“You okay?” he asked, starting to drive down the street.

“My feet are killing me,” you admitted, rubbing under a particular strap that had been digging into your ankle the entire night, “And it’s cold. Is my jacket in here or does Morgan have it?”

“Morgan, I’m afraid,” Hotch replied, never taking his eyes off the road, “My jacket’s back there, though, if you’d like to cover up.”

“You don’t mind?” you asked carefully, feeling heat lick up your face at the thought of – once again – wearing Arron Hotchner’s suit jacket.

“Not at all,” he said calmly, looking towards you when he had to stop at a red light. You tried to ignore the way his eyes on your skin made you feel. How your heart raced and how you felt your breath coming in heavier. How you could not help but look at his hands, his mouth, his arms.

Get it together. He is your boss.

You turned around, blindly reaching towards the backseat and once your fingertips brushed against the fabric, pulled the jacket towards you. With the red light still on, you got out of your seatbelt, hurrying to get the jacket over your shoulders before putting it on again.

You could still feel his eyes on you.

“Has Garcia found anything?” you asked into the silence, watching the silent streets pass you by. Almost no one was outside except for the occasional couple with a dog. The city looked like it had been completely abandoned and you wondered if it was the first of this rampant killed keeping the people inside.

You could not imagine how helpless they must feel. How scared and under pressure. The terror an UnSub like this could put on an entire town was tangible. Even now.

You pulled the jacket closed in front of you, feeling a little calmer with the scent of his cologne in your nose.

“Not yet,” he said, turning onto the local highway, just as abandoned as the local streets. You frowned. But what if this emptiness had not been caused by the UnSub at all?

“Springfield is really random.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m just saying,” you shrugged, “almost no one is outside. No cars, no people, do they even have bars here? Where is the nightlife?”

“You are saying almost no one leaves their home at night,” he nodded, seeming to get the line of thought you were pursuing.

“Maybe the UnSub is not targeting these victims because of who they are –“

“ – But because they are not home when he wants to claim them,” he finished your thought for you, quickly glancing over at you and you smiled.

Hotch briefly smiled back. It was just a quirk of his lips before his eyes went back to the road but your heart still decided to skip a beat and you bit your lips, looking back outside the window.

“So maybe he is not disorganized,” Hotch continued, “Maybe he is smarter than we gave him credit for?”

“Maybe it was a coincidence that they both worked there?” you suggested, “Maybe he looks for them somewhere else?”

You had reached the motel parking lot now, the lights of the rooms casting a warm shine over the parking lot. A car pulled up next to you and you spotted Morgan and Reid getting out, quickly making their way towards the entrance.

Sleep would come easily to all of you tonight.

“You did good work today, Agent,” Hotch said gently and you could not help the smile that tugged at your lips.

There was just something about being praised by him that your brain just … shut down.

“Thank you, Sir,” you smiled.

“Hotch,” he reminded you gently, stepping out of the car with warm eyes.

You pulled his jacket closer around you, feeling your cheeks heat up, “Hotch.”

Walking through the hallways, it was almost easy to forget why you were there in the first place. Surrounded by your colleagues who were the closest things you had to friends, you felt safe and ready to take on a new challenge.

You laughed as Morgan and Emily continued to joke with each other, the sound of your door unlocking like heaven in your ears. You could not wait to take a hot shower and then sleep for as long as work would let you.

“These walls are thin,” Reid said from somewhere and you grinned at him.

Pushing your door open, you frowned. Something was not right.

You could have sworn you had not unpacked at all. You had simply pushed your suitcase into the room before leaving for the PD again.

Why was your dress on the floor then?

Your heart started to beat faster. But not because Hotch had smiled at you or maybe even flirted with you but because you felt panic slowly rising up in you.

With your mouth suddenly dry, you gasped for a breath, taking one – just one – step inside your room. Your suitcase had been opened, every item of clothing strewn about the floor without a care in the world. Even your shampoo bottle had been opened, a puddle that distinctly smelled like oranges on the floor.

And there, in the middle of your bed, neatly arranged, was your underwear, an unmistakable white fluid over it.

You turned around and threw up.

“Hey, you okay?” Derek’s voice sounded from somewhere. Your ears were ringing, a high-pitched noise blocking out everything.

“No,” you gasped, shaking your head desperately, “You need to see this.”

“Hey!” Morgan shouted. Probably to get the attention of the others. Doors opened again, people pushing past you to see what the matter was. You felt arms wrap around your middle, pulling you away from the door.

“Call forensics,” Hotch’s voice said from somewhere, “I want them here first thing in the morning. Do not touch anything without gloves. Reid, do you have some evidence bags on hand?”

You stared at the off-white walls of the hotel hallway, listening to the rush of your colleagues as Emily got her phone out and took as many pictures of the crime scene as possible. Bile rose up in your throat. Your room was now a crime scene.

“Hey,” JJ’s calm voice pulled you out of your thoughts and you felt her soft hand on your shoulder, “Are you okay?”

Your smile felt more like a grimace but you nodded anyway. “Yeah, I just – I just need a minute.”

“What are we going to do? You can’t go back in there,” Emily appeared beside you and nausea crept up at the thought of going into the room where some creep had just jacked off.

Suddenly everyone was around you and you wanted to shy away from them. It was embarrassing considering you were an FBI agent trying to prove yourself but all you wanted was to go home and forget about this. Or rather, to catch this UnSub as soon as possible and then go home and hide from the world.

“Morgan will stay in the room,” Hotch decided, “It is likely the UnSub will come back tonight in an effort to take her.”

Derek nodded solemnly, winking at you in an attempt to cheer you up and you smiled slightly at him.

Then, Hotch looked at you, serious as ever, “You will stay with me for tonight. I think we can all agree this is not the night for you to stay alone somewhere.”

You nodded, still in shock to really process what he was saying.

Only when the others returned to their rooms and Derek got his gun did you realize what this truly meant.

#maybege writes #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #criminal minds fanfiction

177 notes · View notes

lulu2992 · 3 years

Text

My thoughts on Far Cry: Rite of Passage #3

What is inaccurate in Joseph’s story, what is spot-on, and what Diego took away from his father’s lessons.

At the beginning of The Power of Faith, the crocodile Diego encountered at the end of The Power of Family is getting dangerously close. Thankfully, Antón finally decides to emerge from the shadows and to shoot it to save his son, who immediately reproaches him for risking his life and leaving him alone. Antón tells Diego that he needs to have faith in himself. He has one last story to tell his son about how powerful faith can be. It’s time to talk about Joseph Seed.

Joseph’s story starts in Rome, Georgia, when he was just a young boy… but it’s different from the story told in The Book of Joseph. His mother isn’t the “ghost” described in the Book and his family doesn’t seem to live in great poverty. It’s clear, however, that his father is abusive and beats him (and maybe his brothers, only mentioned here) often. The Voice has already talked to him several times when, in Far Cry 5, it was unclear if he had heard it before his wife’s death. Joseph tells his mother that everything is already written and that his father, as well as “all that hold hands with him”, will be judged soon. Since we’ve been told multiple times that the Seed brothers grew up in group homes, the judgment Joseph refers to is probably the upcoming arrival of the police and child protective services. Still, for anyone who has read The Book of Joseph, these first pages are a little confusing. Is the Book not relevant, or is the comic wrong?

Diego asks if the Voice was real, and Antón says that Joseph thought it was but that no one believed him. He explains that faith can make you lonely and that Joseph paid “a great price” for it. We find him years later, in Kansas City, Missouri (for some reason), waking up from a nightmare next to his pregnant wife. She suggests he should talk about his dream, because “they” said it would help. Joseph says he saw himself hurt his child, who was a boy, and his wife reassures him, tells him that she has faith that he isn’t like his father. This is a new episode in Joseph’s past and it suggests two things. First, it implies that he (and his wife) sought out professional help about the Voice he hears. Secondly, his nightmare was just a dream, not a premonition. He’s simply scared of becoming a father, of having a son, and that history will repeat itself. But his wife is pregnant with a daughter, so is this scene supposed to mean that there’s nothing supernatural about his visions, the Voice, and that he was delusional? Because if this is the case, the comic is very wrong.

The scene that follows is fundamental in Joseph’s backstory… but it’s also often misunderstood, and his motivations, severely misjudged. Thankfully, not here. At the hospital, after his wife crashed her car trying to avoid a doe and died, Joseph goes to the chapel to pray. He tells God that whatever He says, he “won’t run away” and is “listening to it all”. Back in his daughter’s room, he tells her with tears in his eyes, “My sweet angel. The Voice said you belong with the other angels. And if I believe, I will send you there. I just have to be strong”. In my opinion, even though Joseph never mentioned a chapel in the game, this scene is great. They understood that he truly loved his daughter, that her death saddened him, but that he genuinely believed he did the right thing. He felt lost and helpless so he prayed for guidance. He listened to God because he had absolute faith in Him and because (in this version of the story, at least) His Voice had always been with him, for him, even when no one else was. He didn’t do what he did because he wanted to, he did it because he believed that it was what God expected him to do. Joseph then exits the hospital and has a vision, an epiphany: something is coming and he needs to bring his family together so they can march to Eden’s Gate. Years later, he has become The Father, we see his siblings for the first and last time, all dead, and Hope County is in flames.

Diego asks if Joseph’s world burned because his faith failed him, and Antón says that it’s actually Joseph who failed his faith. To me, this sentence is confusing; it can either mean that Joseph didn’t believe enough or that he believed too much. If Anton means the former, he’s wrong. Joseph never stopped believing in the Voice, did everything It asked, and put his duties towards God before his own desires and well-being. His commitment was unwavering. So maybe “he failed his faith” means that Joseph thought the Voice was God’s when it actually wasn’t, obeyed Its every command, took everything he heard at face value, and lost everyone he loved because he misplaced his faith. This second hypothesis could explain why the comic shows him having a regular nightmare and mistaking it for a premonition. But in this case, not only is Antón wrong too because the game proved that Joseph wasn’t delusional, but it’s also not a good lesson to teach Diego because he wants him to have faith. He also doesn’t say that Joseph actually wanted the world to burn because he had been promised it would and tasked with leading his Family to the Garden after the Collapse. And, interestingly, he never mentions the Junior Deputy, the flame that ignited the world, the hand that killed the Heralds, and prefers to put all the blame on Joseph. But, as always, Antón needed a good lesson, not a true story. In the world of Far Cry 6, Joseph’s story is fictional anyway because the Collapse never happened.

At the end of the comic, Antón gives a gun to Diego and asks him to prove that he understood the three lessons by killing a sleeping baby jaguar. Diego refuses because he doesn’t think that destroying something is a proof of love and asks his father to have faith in him. Plus, it’s his birthday, he’s tired, and he would like to go home. Antón fondly concludes that his son’s soul is better than his and that, one day, he will “have to fight a war to keep it”. “One day”, says Diego. Today, he just wants a normal thirteenth birthday.

Once again, in The Power of Faith, even though Joseph’s characterization is excellent, the story told by Antón isn’t entirely accurate. The nature of the Voice is questioned and, in my opinion, this makes the lesson taught in this issue a bit unclear. But in the end, neither the stories nor the lessons really matter because Diego seems determined to choose his own path, one that doesn’t involve violence or destruction. Let’s hope he can walk it freely.

#joseph’s personality: 10/10 #joseph’s story: what/10 #far cry rite of passage #far cry 6 #antón castillo #anton castillo #diego castillo #far cry 5 #joseph seed #far cry rite of passage spoilers #far cry 5 spoilers #the book of joseph

66 notes · View notes

wayward-dreamer · 4 years

Text

Life’s Lessons - Family Ties

AO3 Link: Read Here

Square Filled: Handjobs

Pairing: Mechanic!Dean x Female!Teacher!Reader

Other characters: OFCs: Meredith (Y/N’s mom), Jill (Y/N’s sister), Evie and Mia (Y/N’s nieces), OMC: David (Y/N’s dad), Brian (Y/N’s brother-in-law)

Word count: 6,539 (song lyrics in italics).

Rating: Explicit 18+!

Summary: Y/N’s family is coming to Lawrence to visit her, making this the perfect opportunity for Dean to meet them. Despite his nerves, Dean knows he has to bite the bullet and take the next step in order to have the future he wants with Y/N.

Warnings: Swearing, Dean’s self-deprecation rears its ugly head, Handjob, Dirty talk, A whole lotta fluff.

Music: One of These Nights by Eagles (Dean and Y/N get ready for dinner scene)

Life’s Lessons Spotify Playlist

Created for @spnkinkbingo

A/N: Time stamp #2 is here! I’m so excited to hear what you guys think of this. There’s just so much more to come for these two, and I can’t wait to share it with you all, but more on that later! ;) As always, happy reading and enjoy! :)

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Life’s Lessons Saga Masterlist

“Alright, great. I can’t wait to see you guys soon!”

Y/N hung up the phone and placed it on the coffee table in front of her. The smile she had been wearing as she spoke to her family suddenly dropped into a worried expression.

Her mother had called saying that they wanted to come and visit her in Lawrence, now that summer break was about to start, and she would be free to see her family. Her mom, dad, Jill, Brian and the girls were all planning on coming down to Kansas and spending a few days there. It was more than enough time for Y/N to spend with them and for her family to finally meet Dean.

Which was the cause of her worry.

It’s not that she didn’t want them to meet Dean. She did. She just wasn’t sure if Dean wanted to meet them. Especially not all at once.

The keys jingling in the door caught her attention, hearing Dean’s boots in the hallway before he appeared in the living room. He walked over to the kitchen and placed the take-out bags on the bench, and then came towards her with a smirk on his face. She had sent him a message to pick up food when the call went on for longer than she was expecting.

“Hey,” she said, leaning up and kissing him, as he leaned down.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He dropped himself on the couch, sighing heavily as he laid back, closing his eyes. “Fuck, I’m tired.”

She smiled softly, leaning over and kissing his cheek. “Well, relax for a bit, freshen up and then we can eat.”

He could clearly tell something was bothering her by the tremor in her voice, because he sat up slightly, frowning. “You okay, Y/N?”

She sighed as she turned to face him properly, trying to smile so that she didn’t worry him. “I’m fine, but there’s something I have to talk to you about.”

“What is it?” he asked, his frown becoming deeper.

“I was just on the phone with my mom, and… well she and everyone else – my dad, Jill, Brian and the girls – are all coming down here in a few days to see me,” she explained, carefully approaching the next subject.

“Okay…,” he trailed off, understanding so far what she was saying but waiting for more.

“And… they want to meet you,” she informed him, smiling softly. “I really want them to meet you too, but I wanted to see how you feel about it.”

“Oh.” He nodded slowly, trying to figure out the best way to continue. It’s not that he didn’t want to meet her family, it was because he had never done that before, in fear that he would be the last man a girl’s family would want her to be with.

“Dean?” She tried to get his attention, but he was practically staring into space. “You don’t have to, if you don’t want to. There’s no pressure-”

He suddenly turned, shaking his head as he took her hands in his. “No, no I-I want to,” he nodded, firmly. “I’m just… I’m not sure they’d wanna meet me.”

“Why not?” she asked. It made her sad and angry to hear him say that.

“Well… I’m not exactly the type of guy that girls want their parents to meet,” he muttered, shrugging as he looked down at their joined hands.

She shook her head, scooting closer to him. “That’s not true.”

“Yeah, it is, Y/N.” When he looked up at her, she felt her heart drop.

There was clearly something from his past that made him believe that to be true, and now it was up to her to make him see how wrong that was. He was a good man. He was perfect for her in every way, and she would prove that to him, more than she already had.

“It’s not,” she said, firmly as she shook her head. She squeezed his hand in hers, smiling at him. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and if you’re ready… I can’t wait for my family to see that.”

“You sure?” he asked, looking up at her. He knew he wanted to do this. It was the next step and he had to take it if they were going to have a future together. He just needed to be sure that she wanted her family to meet him.

“I’m positive,” she told him, smiling. “I need you to be completely sure, too.”

He gave her a firm nod. “I’d love to meet them.”

Y/N’s smile grew as she pushed herself into Dean, wrapping her arms around his neck as he fell back on the couch. She leaned down and kissed his lips, his cheek, his jaw, his neck and then moved back to his lips. He chuckled as she pulled away, slowly cupping her face in his hands, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.

“You’re really sure, right?” she asked, still worried. “I just don’t want to pressure you to do something you don’t to.”

He reached up, kissing her lips softly. “I’m sure, Y/N. You met my family and they loved you, so… hopefully it’s the same story with yours.”

“It will be,” she said, smiling. “I just know it.”

Dean walked up the porch stairs of Y/N’s house, a bottle of Bourbon in one hand, a bouquet of pink carnations in the other. Using his elbow, he rang the doorbell, slowly releasing a ragged breath he had been holding in. He was about to meet Y/N’s family and to say he was nervous was an understatement. He had never met a girlfriend’s family before, never getting to that stage with anyone. When he thought he had with Lisa, she wasn’t interested in her family getting to know him better. He had met her sister on one occasion when she was visiting with Lisa’s baby niece, but other than that, there had been nothing.

Now, he was with Y/N. The woman he already knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. He couldn’t screw up this up.

The door swung open, a smiling Y/N greeting him on the other side, appropriately dressed for the weather they were having in a long, peach colored, strappy summer dress. She let him in, stopping him from walking further after she closed the door. She took him in, dressed in a black, half-sleeve button-up shirt and jeans and his boots, looking as gorgeous as he always did. She leaned in, kissing him softly.

“Hey,” she whispered. “I missed you yesterday.”

Her family had gotten to Kansas City in the morning, and they spent the whole day together, giving them time to be with each other before Dean met them.

“I missed you more,” he whispered back, smirking. “I don’t like not having you in my bed.”

“I don’t like it either,” she said, her tone still hushed. She moved closer to him, kissing him again. Pulling away, she smiled at him. “So… you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” he told her, with another shaky exhale.

She smiled softly and reassuringly, offering him her hand. “I got you.”

He smiled at her, gathering the bottle and bouquet in one hand, and taking hers with the other. He brought their linked hands to his lips, placing a kiss on hers. He knew he could do anything as long as he had her by his side.

“Let’s do this,” he said, winking at her.

Y/N took the lead as they walked down the hallway and into the living area where her family was. Dean saw them all sitting around and talking, laughing at something someone had said. As he and Y/N walked in, their heads turned to look at them, all of their eyes landing on him. A string of curses ran through his mind as Y/N’s father stood up, followed by her mother.

“Mom, dad… this is Dean,” Y/N introduced, with a big smile on her face. “Dean, this my dad, David and my mom, Meredith.”

“Good to finally meet you,” David said, offering his hand.

Dean quickly dropped Y/N’s hand as he shook her father’s, firmly. “Good to meet you, sir. I hope you’re a Bourbon man.”

He handed the bottle over, a little more confidence in him now, considering Y/N had given him the cheat sheet to get instant approval from her father and mother. He shook Meredith’s hand too, handing her the flowers.

“I do. Nice choice,” David smiled approvingly, giving Dean a little nod.

“These are beautiful, Dean. Thank you,” Meredith smiled, smelling the flowers.

“This is Jill, my sister and her husband Brian,” Y/N said, but paused for them to meet before she gestured for the girls to come forward. They were hiding behind Jill, slightly intimidated by Dean’s height. “And these two… are the most important people in our family. Evie and Mia.”

“Hey girls,” Dean smiled, crouching down to their level.

“Hi,” Evie muttered, shyly. “You’re really tall.”

Dean chuckled slightly, shaking his head. “I’m not as tall as my brother.”

Evie’s eyes widened. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Dean nodded as his eyes widened like hers.

Evie laughed a little as she stepped out from behind Jill. “I’m 5. How old are you?”

“Evie,” Jill warned, shaking her head with a small laugh. “Sorry about her, she’s very inquisitive now.”

“It’s okay, really,” he said, waving it off. He moved a little closer to Evie, like he was about to tell her a secret. “I’m 35, kiddo. So pretty old.”

Y/N laughed a little as she saw her niece cup her hand over her mouth, dramatically as she heard how old Dean was. Dean laughed as well but held up his pinkie in a fake serious manner.

“Promise you won’t tell anyone?” he asked in a stage whisper, keeping within his little act.

She nodded and curled her pinkie around his. “Promise.”

“Good,” he said, giving her wink as he held a finger to his lips.

Little Mia wobbled on her legs, causing Jill to bend down and pick her up. Dean stood up and leaned over, lightly touching her chubby cheek. A small giggle left her, causing Dean to laugh as well.

Y/N felt her heart bursting with joy. She watched as Dean mingled with everyone, asking about their day out the previous day and general questions about their lives back at home in Rhinebeck. She knew things would go well, but they had gone better than she had ever pictured. Dean was now more at ease, asking them what they’d like to drink before he walked into the kitchen. She followed behind him, watching him take out 3 beers from the fridge and open them at the kitchen bench. She leaned into him, resting her chin on his arm as she looked up at him. “You’re amazing,” she whispered.

He looked at her and leaned down, kissing her forehead. “No. You are, and so are they.”

She closed her eyes at the feel of his lips on her skin, her smile beaming. “I love you. So much.”

“I love you, too” he said, leaning down to kiss her, passionately. He broke it after a moment, picking up the beers. “I’ll see you in there.”

He moved away, winking at her before he left the kitchen.

She watched from the kitchen as he sat amongst them, immediately immersing himself in the conversation. She sighed as her heart soared with the love she felt for him.

Lunch went incredibly well, Dean now comfortable with everyone and answering everyone’s questions. He had them all laughing with tales from his childhood, from work and just with his hilarious anecdotes and comments about everyone else’s stories he was listening to. When he mentioned the Impala, Y/N saw her dad’s eyes widen, her smile growing bigger if that was even possible, when Dean told him they could go for a drive one of these days.

As Y/N and Meredith cleared up after everyone was done with lunch, Jill and Brian took the girls outside in the backyard to play, now that the weather was a little more tolerable. Dean stood up from the table, clearing any remaining glasses and cutlery. He took them into the kitchen and returned to the table, catching the attention of Y/N’s father.

“Can I get ya anything else, sir?” Dean asked, as he turned to David.

“No, I’m good. Thanks Dean,” David smiled, gesturing for Dean to sit down. “Can we talk?”

Dean felt his heart begin to beat faster as he was suddenly nervous again. “Sure.” He sat down in the same chair he had occupied previously and faced the older man.

“Dean… I need to thank you,” David started as he looked up at Dean.

“Thank me? For what, sir?” Dean asked, confused as to what he had done that warranted praise.

“For making my daughter happier than I’ve ever seen her,” David replied, lowering his voice slightly so that Y/N didn’t hear from the kitchen. “She’s had a tough time after what her jerk of an ex did, but the fact that she’s now the way she used to be before him, better in fact… I have to thank you for that.”

Dean nodded but gave a little shrug. “That was all her, sir. She’s strong and clearly, she’s gotten that from you and Meredith. I only helped in any way that I could.”

“Definitely more from her mother than me. The three of them – Meredith, Jill and Y/N – they’re the reason I get up every morning,” David stated, smiling as he thought about his family.

Dean smirked, picking up his beer and holding it out. “To them.”

David smiled in return, picking up his bottle and clinking it with Dean’s. “To them.”

“Everything okay here?” Y/N asked, suddenly startling both of them as she and her mother walked back to the table.

“Yeah, we’re good,” Dean said, taking a sip of his beer.

“Dean!” little Evie hollered, as she came running into the house. She went right up to him and stood beside his chair, not intimidated by him anymore, her little face looking up at him. “Will you play outside with me and Mia?”

“Of course, peanut,” he said, getting up from the table. “Let’s go!”

Dean took off running after Evie, both of them sprinting into the backyard. Y/N laughed as she shook her head, loving that the kids had taken to him so quickly. Her mom came up beside her, putting her arm around her as they turned to look at each other.

“He’s a really good one,” she smiled, leaning over and kissing Y/N’s cheek.

“I think so, too,” Y/N said, smiling.

Meredith turned to David and gestured to the door. “Shall we take a walk? See the neighborhood?”

Y/N kept herself from laughing, knowing her mom was dying to see all the beautiful houses and their amazing gardens.

“Sure,” David said, as he stood up and took his wife’s hand. “See you soon, sweetie.” He walked past Y/N and kissed her head, as he led Meredith to the door.

“You two have fun!” she called out before the door shut behind them.

Y/N walked to the kitchen and opened the fridge, taking out the large jug of iced tea she had made. Pouring some into two glasses, she put the jug back in the fridge before taking the glasses out to her back porch. Jill was sitting at the outdoor dining table, watching Dean and Brian play with the girls. Y/N handed her a glass and sat down next to her sister, watching them too.

Dean roared after the little girl, who squealed and laughed as he chased her around the backyard. He picked up Evie, spinning her around, making her laugh even more. Little Mia had started walking, but it was more like waddling at this point. She stood in the grass, watching and clapping her chubby little hands. Brian stood behind her, making sure she didn’t fall.

“He’s amazing,” Jill told Y/N as they both watched Dean playing with the kids.

Y/N was feeling all kinds of things as she watched him. “Yeah, he is.”

“I think mom’s ready for the wedding, already,” Jill laughed, as Y/N rolled her eyes playfully.

“She’s going to be waiting a while, I think,” Y/N sighed, shrugging.

“Really?” Jill asked, frowning before it turned into a smile. “I personally don’t think so.”

“Jill.” Y/N shook her head, looking at her sister. “You can’t say stuff like that.”

“I can when it’s true. Dad’s ready to drive the Impala around one of these days, the girls adore him,” Jill stated, trying to make her sister understand why she was saying that. “Y/N… it’s going to happen. I can feel it.”

Just before she could say anything, Y/N looked up and smiled at Dean as he walked over, carrying Mia in one arm as he held Evie’s hand with the other. Brian laughed as he sat down, slightly relieved that the kids had attached themselves to Dean for a while.

“Damn, these two are tiring,” he huffed out as he sat down at the outdoor table, under the shade of the back porch. “I don’t know how you guys do it,” he laughed as he looked between Jill and Brian.

“It gets easier after a few years,” Brian explained, picking up Jill’s glass and taking a sip.

“You’ll understand when you guys have some of your own,” Jill said, pointedly.

Y/N glared at her, silently telling her to knock it off.

“Yeah, it’ll probably all make sense, then,” Dean said, winking at Y/N.

Jill looked at Y/N with an “I told you so” look before sipping her iced tea.

After a moment, they all returned inside, spreading out on the couches. Little Mia had fallen asleep in Brian’s arms, as Evie was struggling to keep herself awake in Jill’s lap. The front door opened and closed, signalling that David and Meredith had returned.

“How was the walk?” Y/N asked, smiling at her mom.

“Great, but it’s still pretty hot out there.” She emphasised her statement with a wipe of her brow as she sat down.

“I think we should head out. Get these two down for a nap,” Jill told Brian quietly, but loud enough for all of them to hear.

“Why don’t we all go to dinner tonight? I can find something for us,” David asked, looking between everyone.

Everyone didn’t even need to think it over, more than willing to go out for dinner.

They all said their goodbyes, as Jill and Brian went back to the hotel with the girls. Y/N’s mother and father were staying with her, but David had an old friend that lived in Kansas City who he and Meredith would be catching up with before dinner, so they all left together. Y/N and Dean waved them all off as they drove away, stepping back into the house. Just as the door closed, she jumped on him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He leaned in, kissing her passionately.

“That went really well,” she mumbled against his lips, between kisses.

“You think so?” he asked, frowning.

She nodded, smiling as she bit her lip. “Absolutely. You did great!”

“Thanks,” he muttered, a small smile gracing his face.

“You can relax now,” she joked, kissing his lips softly. She wrapped her arms around him, tighter, leaning her forehead against his.

“How does an afternoon nap sound?” he asked, smirking.

“It sounds terrific,” she replied, returning his smile.

Dean carried Y/N towards her bedroom, laying soft kisses on her skin as he walked down the hallway. He was glad to have a little time with her before they met up with her family again later that evening, fully intending on cuddling up with her and enjoying a late afternoon nap in May.

After a relaxing snooze, Dean and Y/N got ready to go to dinner with her family. He went to his house to get dressed and quickly came back. She had gotten a text from Jill telling her where they would be going to eat, and Y/N relayed the information to Dean as she got dressed. He wore a fresh half-sleeve button-up shirt, in blue this time and his jeans, once again donning his boots. Y/N got dressed into a red with white polka dots, A-line, knee-length dress and pulled her hair into a tight ponytail.

Once she was dressed, she applied a touch of make-up, dancing to One of These Nights playing from her speaker as she stood in front of the mirror. Her hips swayed from side to side, not realising the pair of green eyes on her. Dean sat back in the chair across from the bed, smirking at the sight in front of him.

“Keep doing that and we’ll never leave, sweetheart,” he informed her, the smirk not leaving his face.

She shook her head, laughing slightly. “This song just gets me going.”

“I sure ain’t complaining,” he said, as he stood up.

Quickly moving behind her as she packed away her make-up, he grabbed her hand, pulling her away from the mirror and spinning her around. She laughed as he spun her, bringing her in close to him as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

“Fuck. The things you do to me,” he whispered in her ear and leaned back, looking into her eyes.

“You’re one to talk,” she countered, smiling as she wagged her eyebrows.

One of these dreams

One of these lost and lonely dreams, now

We’re gonna find one

Oh, one that really screams

I’ve been searching for the daughter of the devil himself

I’ve been searching for an angel in white

I’ve been waiting for a woman who’s a little of both

And I can feel her but she’s nowhere in sight

Dean turned her around in his arms, her back pressed close to his chest. Leaning down, he kissed along her neck, smirking against her skin as she let out a soft moan.

“You know… he’s definitely talking about you,” he murmured, pulling her close to him.

“I’m the daughter of the devil?” she asked, shocked as she scoffed a laugh.

“Yeah,” he said, simply. “But you’re an angel in white, too. A little of both… that’s perfect, if you ask me.” He smirked at her in the mirror as she shook her head, trying not to show her amusement as she stopped herself from smiling.

“You’re insane,” she laughed, lightly as she moved away from him. She picked up her black purse that matched her black heels and offered him her hand. “We better go, come on.”

“Fine,” he whined, with a pout.

His plan to seduce her would just have to wait.

Despite it being a weekend, the traffic wasn’t as bad as Dean thought it would be driving into Kansas City. Very soon, he pulled up into the parking lot of the restaurant, cutting the engine. He made a move to get out, but felt Y/N tug on his shirt, causing him to turn around and face her. She smiled at him as she slid across the bench seat, instantly wrapping her arms around him. Without a word, she leaned in and pressed her lips to his, in a slow, sensual kiss.

Pulling away and clearing his throat, he blinked a few times as he looked at her in wonder. “What was that for?”

She bit her lip as she continued to smile and shrugged her shoulders. “To thank you for today. I hadn’t said it yet.”

“There’s no need to thank me, babe,” he told her, chuckling lightly.

“Yes, there is,” she said, nodding as she looked at him. “The way you were today with all of them; it was amazing. The way you were with the girls…”

She visibly shivered as she looked at him, her eyes flicking down to his lips before she looked up again. Seeing him with her nieces awoke something inside of her that she didn’t think would happen so soon. The desire to have children with him.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he asked, a smirk on his face.

She nodded as she leaned in, her lips brushing against his. “You’re so wonderful to everyone, Dean. You make everyone around you really happy.”

She saw his cheeks darken a little despite the lack of light in the car, and she thought it was the cutest thing ever. Slowly, one arm left the link around his neck, as her hand drifted down to the top of his jeans. She leaned in and kissed him in the same, sensual pace as her hand began to rub over the crotch of his jeans. As they continued to kiss, she felt him started to get hard under the denim.

He pulled away from the kiss, sighing. “Fuck, Y/N. We-we can’t, not here-”

She shushed him in a low tone, giving him that mischievous smile he loved so much. “It’s okay, no one’s going to see. Let me show you how much I appreciate you.”

She moved her other arm down too, as her hands quickly worked to unbuckle his belt and undo his jeans. Tugging them down, he lifted up slightly to let her pull them down to his thighs, his cock slapping against his lower stomach, semi hard.

Y/N kept her eyes on Dean’s as she brought her hand to her mouth, wetting it with saliva. She moved it down and took a hold of his cock, wrapping her fingers around the shaft in a firm grip. She slowly began to pump her hand up and down, her eyes never leaving him. She leaned in close to him, her eyes darkened.

“You’re so good to me, Dean,” she whispered, looking into his eyes. “You treat me so well. You’re the greatest man I’ve ever known.”

She felt his cock getting harder as she continued to stroke him. She leaned down and dropped more spit onto it, getting him nice and wet.

“You’re so kind, generous, loving, loyal,” she stated, as leaned in and pecked his lips, softly. “The way you make me feel… no one’s ever made me feel so good.”

Dean groaned as he looked down at her hand, watching it pump his cock. He looked up at her, his eyes hooded as he felt the familiar rush of arousal to his dick.

“Your cock is so perfect,” she moaned softly, looking between him and what she was doing. “It fills me up so good when it’s inside me, hits that spot inside of me that only you can reach.”

“Fuck, Y/N,” he grunted, his eyes flicking between her hand and her eyes. “Shit.”

Between the handjob and her words, he was going to cum sooner than he wanted to. He let out short puffs of air as he threw his head back over the top of the seat, his neck straining. She leaned in, kissing him at his pulse point, softly nipping at it.

“I fucking love this cock,” she moaned, kissing his neck. “And I love your tongue, and your mouth… when you suck on my clit… fuck, Dean you drive me crazy.”

Moving up onto her knees, she leaned over him, her face closer to his, staring into his eyes. Her other hand moved down and cupped his balls, rolling them in her palm.

“How do my hands feel, Dean?” she asked, quickly kissing his lips.

“Oh, fuck… feels-feels so fucking good, sweetheart,” he choked out, struggling to hold her gaze.

“Yeah?” she smirked, chuckling slightly at how much under her spell he was. “I bet I know what you want around this cock instead.”

Dropping more of her saliva onto his cock, she felt him throbbing against her hands as one continued to stroke him while the other paid attention to his balls. She moved her hand under the head of his cock, creating a ring and twisting her wrist, causing him to moan loudly. His eyes were shut tight, the muscles in his jaw twitching as he kept clenching it. The sight of him like that had her biting down on her lip, feeling herself getting wet as she looked at him.

“I love you so much, Dean Winchester. I love everything about you,” she whispered against his lips. “Look at me.”

Dean’s eyes snapped open as his breathing became more erratic. She kissed his lips as she kept her eyes open, looking down at him. She massaged the head of his cock with her fingertips, smirking as he bit down on his lip.

“Y/N, I… fuck, I can’t,” he stuttered, shaking his head. His mouth opened as his eyes closed again, a choked moan leaving him.

Her other hand took hold of his cock, as she began to work both hands along his shaft. He was close, his cock pulsing as she pumped her hands.

“You close, baby?” she asked, smiling down at him.

He nodded frantically as little grunts left his lips, his hands clenching into his jeans as they rested on his thighs.

“Look at me, Dean. I want you to look into my eyes when I make you cum,” she ordered, her hands picking up speed.

He opened his eyes again, causing her to smile when they met hers.

“That’s it, handsome. Just keep your eyes on me,” she said, smiling at him. Leaning in closer, she lowered her voice into a hushed tone. “I’m so happy you’re in my life, Dean. I can’t imagine it without you anymore. I want you forever.”

Her hands worked him faster, his cock throbbing more as she brought him closer to his release. She held one hand around the base of his cock, as the other continued to stroke him, her hand closing over the head firmly on every upward motion.

“Y/N,” he growled, through his clenched teeth. “Fuck, sweetheart, I-”

“You wanna cum, Dean?” she asked, smirking down at him.

He huffed as he looked up at her. “Y-Yeah.”

She moaned as she felt his cock throb and pulse. Looking into his eyes, she nodded approvingly. “Give me that cum, baby. Come on, cum for me, Dean…”

Dean felt his dick throb and threw his head back, letting out a loud, choked moan as ropes of cum spurted out of his cock. It all dripped over Y/N’s hand as she continued to jerk his shaft while he reached his high. She milked him for all he was worth and leaned down, lapping up everything he gave her from around her hand. She sucked at the tip of his cock to get the last of it into her mouth, before leaning up and looking at him as she swallowed. She smiled at him and winked, loving that she had an advantage. He shook his head as he looked at her, breathing heavily as he came down from his high.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he groaned, shutting his eyes as he laughed. He opened his eyes, staring up at the roof of the car. He licked his lips and turned his head, looking at her.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, gorgeous,” he told her, tugging on her hand and pulling her closer. He leaned up, pressing his lips to hers in a searing kiss.

“We better clean up and go in,” she stated, after pulling her mouth away from his.

“Oh, now you wanna go in?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “Now? When I have to face your family after what you did to me?”

She laughed loudly as she picked up her purse and moved away from him, opening the passenger door and getting out of the car.

Y/N rested her purse on the hood and opened it, taking out a few napkins and cleaning up her hands. She took out her lipstick and compact mirror, reapplying it to her lips after her saliva got rid of some of it. Packing the items back into her purse, she slung it over her shoulder, watching through the windscreen as Dean fixed himself, zipped up his jeans and got out of the car.

“Shall we?” she asked, completely nonchalant. As if she hadn’t just given him a handjob in the car, in the middle of the parking lot of a restaurant. He looked her up and down, that dress making her look innocent which she absolutely wasn’t.

“Now you know what I mean when I say that song’s about you,” he told her, glaring at her, but a playful glint shone in his eyes too.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, shrugging.

“You’re evil, Y/N Y/L/N,” he muttered, still glaring at her. He couldn’t keep it for long however, as a small smile started to grow.

“You love me,” she stated, laughing.

“Yeah,” he agreed, as he walked over to her. He held out his hand which she took instantly. “Let’s go.”

They walked into the restaurant, quickly spotting her family and walking over to the table. They all greeted each other and then Y/N sat down next to Jill with Dean next to her. She looked over at him, smiling to herself as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“You okay there, Dean?” David asked.

Dean looked up at him, an eyebrow raised before he let out a small chuckle. “Just fine, sir. A lot of traffic on the road… just stretching out my legs.”

She pressed her lips into a thin line, trying to keep from laughing as she looked over the menu in front of her. Her eyes flicked up to see Dean glaring at her discreetly, before looking over the menu too. She bit her lip to keep from snickering as she ignored his gaze.

As the first round of drinks came and went, Dean entertained everyone with more stories of his past, making everyone at the table gravitate towards him. He usually hated being the centre of attention, but when he was comfortable with people, he was the life of the party. Y/N couldn’t keep the smile off her face as she watched him. He had been so nervous to meet her family, but now he just fit right in. As dinner came, she had to wrangle Evie away from Dean, as she wouldn’t let him eat, wanting his attention too. However, as dessert came around, she was fully cemented in Y/N’s lap; the two of them sharing a bowl of ice-cream.

“Aunty Y/N,” Evie got her attention in a hushed voice, leaning close to her ear.

“What’s up, honey?” Y/N asked, her tone hushed too.

“Are you gonna marry Dean?” Evie asked in return, cupping a hand near her mouth, making sure that Dean wouldn’t hear her.

Y/N looked down at her, amused as she laughed. “Do you want me to marry Dean?”

“Yes,” Evie nodded, enthusiastically. “He’s nice and played with me today. I want him to be my uncle.”

Y/N chuckled quietly, kissing her forehead. “You think he’ll make a good one?”

Evie nodded as she put a spoonful of ice-cream in her mouth.

“Yeah,” Y/N said, smiling as she stroked her niece’s hair with her other hand. She looked over at him, fully immersed in a conversation about cars with Brian and her father, and felt her heart skip a beat. “I think so, too.”

After dinner, they said their goodbyes to Jill, Brian and the girls who went back to the hotel they were staying in. Dean happened to be having a guys’ night with his brother and his friends the next day, so he invited Brian along. Jill was joining Y/N and her friends while their parents looked after the girls. Y/N was happy that her family would be meeting her second one, something that she had always hoped would happen. She was so elated that it finally was.

Dean pulled up outside his house, cutting the engine. He and Y/N both got out of the car, as she looked over to see her parents park her car in the driveway of her house. She closed her door and walked around to Dean’s side, smiling at him. She instantly moved closer to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. She shook her head as she marvelled at him, pushing up on her toes despite her heels and leaning in, kissing him softly.

“What was that for?” he asked, when she pulled away.

“For being exactly who you are,” she replied, kissing him again. “Thank you for today. I know you were nervous, but god, you were incredible. I had no doubt that you would be, but I just wanted you to know that.”

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he said, smirking. “Helps that they’re all awesome, just like you.”

She blushed as she shook her head, looking up when her parents approached them. She stepped back from Dean, opening her purse and taking out her keys.

“Give me those, and you stay here tonight,” Meredith said, gesturing to the keys.

“Mom-” she started but her mother cut her off.

“Nope, I know what you’re going to say. We know where everything is now, so we’ll be fine,” she stated, a small smile on her face. “And don’t try to argue with me. I know you both need your time together, too.”

She added a quick wink directed at Y/N, while David wasn’t looking. Y/N’s eyes widened as Dean cleared his throat, having seen the gesture.

“Mom,” Y/N gritted out, nodding over to her dad.

“Oh, trust me, he didn’t hear.” Meredith leaned over, kissing her cheek. “Goodnight, honey. Goodnight, Dean.”

“Night, kids,” David said, leaning in and kissing her cheek, too.

“Goodnight, Meredith. Goodnight, sir,” Dean nodded at both of them. They waved them off and watched them go into Y/N’s house, closing the door behind them.

They both walked up the driveway and into Dean’s house. Y/N walked into the kitchen and got herself a glass of water as Dean locked up, walking in after her. She took a sip but put the glass down, watching him. He smirked at her, raising an eyebrow.

“I think…” he trailed off, walking closer to her. “I need to get you back for that little stunt you pulled in the car.”

She smiled that naughty smile he loved so much, but it suddenly dropped into an innocent look. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She really was the perfect combination of sweet and mischievous. All good girls were.

“Oh really?” he asked, his eyebrows furrowed.

Suddenly, he dropped down quickly, wrapping his arms around her legs and lifting her up. He swung her over his shoulder as she squealed, lifting up his hand and landing a spank on her ass, causing her to yelp and laugh.

“Dean! Oh my god!” she cackled, hysterically as she hung upside down. “Put me down!”

“Nope. I’m taking you to bed, sweetheart,” he growled, his voice low and husky. It always told her what kind of mood he was in. “Teacher’s the one learning a lesson this time.”

Dean took off down the hallway with a laughing Y/N over his shoulder, ready to get her back in the best way possible.

-x-

Tags: @deanwanddamons @winchest09 @downanddirtydean @jensengirl83 @wonder-cole @that-one-gay-girl @flamencodiva @ellewritesfix05 @roonyxx @akshi8278 @hobby27 @michellethetvaddict @spngirl05 @kyjey @halesandy @440mxs-wife @stoneyggirl @deanswaywardgirl @redbarn1995 @marianita195 @babypink224221 @deans-baby-momma @parinarain @thoughts-and-funnies @mandalou29 @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @superaveng @supernatural-love14 @vicmc624 @prettyboyswow @lunarmoon8 @supernatural-bellawinchester

#spnkinkbingo #Life's Lessons Saga #Life's Lessons Time Stamps #Dean x Female!Reader #Dean x Female!Reader Series #Dean x Female!Reader Fanfiction #Female!Reader Insert #Mechanic!Dean #Teacher!Reader #Dean x Reader Fanfiction #Dean Winchester Smut #Dean Winchester Series #Dean Winchester Fanfiction #Dean Winchester Fanfic #Supernatural Fanfiction

120 notes · View notes

theoriginalladya · 2 years

Text

WIP Wednesday

Since for the past three days or so I've been lost to SIMS 3, having created Caleb, Kaidan, Tadhg and Niamh in that game, This week's WIP Wednesday snippet is something from an original fic idea I've had for years but the characters have been poking at me for the past week to change things up. I think I may have shared this bit ages ago in its original concept, but here it is revitalized.

(under cut for those who don't care to read)

Concept: present day main character with a 'supernatural' type power that helps him solve murders. Said powers drove him from his home in Mountjoy, Kansas when he was eighteen but he's been back home when his older brother, the only family member that had stayed in touch with him, is murdered and he teams up with his brothers best friend and detective on the local police force to figure out who killed his brother. Main characters Morgan McLeod (his POV) and Iain Hawthorne.

“What if I asked you to stay…for me?”

Only two people in my life have ever really caught me by surprise. David, bless him, was one. It shouldn’t come as any real surprise Iain is the other one, I suppose, but right now, right here, it does.

It’s only when tiny pinpricks of black darken my vision I realize I’ve been holding my breath. “Um... Why?” My voice warbles slightly and I pull my lower lip between my teeth, worrying it back and forth. It’s a nervous gesture from my days as a shy teen, gone in recent years, but apparently not forgotten. “Why would you want me to stay?”

I need to know the answer, because I swear, if he says something like, ‘we work well together,’ I’m going to call on all those years of karate lessons to knock him on his ass, cop or not!

Slowly, he turns to face me. This close, I don’t miss the hint of pink darkening his cheeks. I swallow tightly and nearly jump when one of his hands catches mine. His eyes – the most enticing moss green I’ve ever seen and that have haunted my memories for years – flicker with some sort of emotion that I can’t quite define. But his hand is warm, and his voice is steady when he does speak. The only shaking I notice is a slight tremor in his hand. Or is it mine?

God, I hate this! When it comes to dealing with dead bodies, I can see their last moments, understand what they felt, figure out which way to direct an investigation based on all of that. But the living? At best, I am horrible at reading the emotions of anyone still breathing, especially in situations directly concerning me. But there is something there in Iain's expression, something I recognize instinctively, and my stomach flips.

It feels suspiciously like hope...

“Is it too corny if I say I think we are good together?”

I blink and frown. Dammit! Irritation laces my words as I demand, “Is that your modern-day equivalent of, ‘we work well together?’”

His smile is sorrowful, but he doesn’t laugh. That something, anyway. “Look, Morgan, things between us have been awkward over the years. I know that. I’ll own it.” His sigh is heavy, remorseful. “Call it stupidity or obliviousness; whatever the case, we lost too many years where we could have been close…time we will never get back.”

My chest tightens again as he speaks. “I’m not a seventeen-year-old with his first crush anymore, Iain.” To this day, I’ve always wondered if he ever knew how I felt back then. Sounds like he might have. But what does that really change now?

Absolutely nothing.

“Look, Iain, I –” “Mountjoy will never have the draw of a big city like New York,” Iain says, cutting me off, “and if you are truly well and done with us…well, there isn't much I can do about it. Nothing I will say will convince you. I know that, I accept it. I won’t say I like it much, but I’ll respect it.”

#WIP Wednesday #ladya writes #original fic blurb #snippet #Death Reader #I don't know why this popped into my head last week #it's been over six years since I last did anything with it #but suddenly Morgan is around #and he wantes to be The Voice #soooooo... yeah #not sure it'll ever amount to much #but there's the potential for a lot of stories for them #because I never think small when plotting #lol

3 notes · View notes

ialwayscomewhenyoucall · 4 years

Text

On Me...or on You?

destiel au

rated t

~2.2k

“Dean! Table six has been waiting for almost ten minutes. And I can’t see that guy’s face, but his posture is very tense.”

“You know I suck at this, Charlie.” Dean checks all his pockets for his pen, comes up empty, then sighs thankfully when Charlie hands him one from behind the bar.

Nodding, Charlie says, “You really do. But you’re stuck. We all are, really. So go take care of the guys at table six and then go see if the rowdies in the corner need refills.”

Dean grimaces. “Do I have to?”

Charlie grins. “They’ll probably be obnoxious, but they’ll be good tippers. Trust me.”

“I can’t believe I’m working for tips,” he grumbles, pulling out his notebook.

“Just show ‘em that smile, Dean. You can’t lose!” she teases.

Dean wishes it worked that way. He really is terrible at this job. Sam–his brother–is lucky they’re close, and he doesn’t hold all those childhood pranks against him. If he was one to hold a grudge about the shaving cream in his shoes, or the saran wrap on the toilet (although really Dean feels like he deserved that one, since it was April Fool’s Day and he wasn’t smart enough to look) he’d be out of here in a heartbeat. But he loves his brother, dorky guy that he is. Despite his fascination with computers and his propensity to spend most of his free time with his nose in a book, he’s a fantastic chef, and he’s worked hard to build this place into what it is.

It’s not Sam’s fault he has one waitress out on maternity leave and had another ask for sudden time off to visit her sick mom in Idaho. It is Sam’s fault he’s got irresistible puppy dog eyes, but that’s really Dean’s problem, not Sam’s.

Two men sit at table six, and Charlie’s right, the dark haired one looks...tense. The other one, smaller, with longish, light brown hair, seems in a fine mood, though. Actually, he looks like not much could get him down. He’s–Dean blinks, then looks again. Yeah, he’d seen right the first time. The guy is sucking on a bright red lollipop.

Huh. Something new every day, right?

Dean pastes a smile onto his face and steps up to the table. “Hi, welcome to The Bunker. I’m Dean, I’ll be your server tonight. Can…”

And then his thoughts fall out of his head, because the dark haired guy looks up at him, and it doesn’t even matter that he’s glaring. He’s the most beautiful man Dean’s ever seen. Sexy hair, right on the line between black and brown, standing out in all directions like someone’s been running her–his?–fingers through it. Piercing blue eyes. And he’s not smiling now, but somehow Dean can tell he’s got a showstopper. There are faint lines at the corners of his eyes that show that they’ll just crinkle up when he smiles.

Dean wants to feel the weight of that smile.

“Do you think we could possibly have something to drink? We’ve been waiting for awhile,” the man says, and Dean’s nearly struck dumb again by his voice, low and rough and mesmerizing, even when it’s speaking somewhat angrily at him.

Unfortunately, Dean’s mouth chooses this moment to speak without permission from his brain.

“Oh, you can have whatever you’d like, darlin’.” The words pop out, dripping with innuendo, followed by that smile Charlie’d mentioned.

And then his ears hear what he’d said, and he feels the blush taking over his face.

“I mean–uh–oh fuck,” Dean says, and then he realizes he probably shouldn’t swear in front of customers either. Sam’s going to murder him.

The light haired man slurps his lollipop and then cackles. “I like this one, Cassie. You should keep him.”

“Gabriel. I did not ask for your opinion. And I didn’t even want to come here with you. If you can’t keep your...your comments...to yourself, I’m leaving now. And you can find your own way home.”

“I’ll be good,” Gabriel says, and he looks almost chastised. “You have to stay, Castiel. Trust me, the food here is excellent. And the desserts..” He looks up at Dean. “Is Eileen here tonight?”

Dean, surprised, just nods.

“I don’t know where she was trained, but Eileen makes the best desserts around.”

Finally finding his voice again, Dean says, “She got her start in New York City. She worked in some pretty high class places there, actually.”

The dark haired man–Cassie? Castiel?–tilts his head and asks, “What’s she doing in Kansas?”

Dean smiles at this, a secret kind of smile. “She fell in love.”

Neither of them has a response to this, and an awkward silence falls over the table. Finally Dean remembers that, oh yeah, he’s supposed to be working here, and he manages to take their drink orders without incident. He brings them to Charlie, slumping down on one of the barstools and repeatedly hitting his forehead on the worn wood of the bar.

Charlie, her usual buoyant self, snatches his notepad from his hand and goes about mixing the drinks. After about a minute he sits up and looks at her, and she grins. “Well, that seems promising.”

“Were you watching some alternate version of Dean Winchester? One who didn’t act like an idiot in front of a customer–twice–and ruin any chance he could possibly have with the most attractive guy he’s ever seen?”

Shrugging, Charlie says, “He didn’t slap you. And he didn’t leave. And his brother seems to like you.”

“I guess he–wait, his brother? Charlie, do you know more than you’re saying here?”

Charlie doesn’t even have the decency to look embarrassed, but of course she doesn’t really have an embarrassed face. “Maybe,” she says, smiling sweetly. “But it’s nothing nefarious. Just a little harmless...hope.”

“Charlie,” Dean says, and there’s warning in his voice.

“Gabriel comes in here a lot, okay? He loves Eileen’s desserts, I’m pretty sure he’s had all of them at least twice, and he’s pretty fond of Sam’s cooking too. He saw you one day, and we got to chatting, and he mentioned his brother, and…” She shrugs. Then she leans across the bar, grinning. “He’s dreamy, right? Just your type. And did you see his arms? I mean, he’s certainly not my type, but those are nice arms. I’m pretty sure about that.”

“Yeah, they really–” Dean starts, then he glares at her. “Charlie! You know how I feel about being set up. Not like it matters, since I already blew it.”

Waving her hand dismissively, Charlie says, “Oh, you did not. Here. Take them their drinks and tell them–while you look at Cas–that they’re on you. Trust me, you’ll be fine.”

“Cas,” he says. He likes the way the name feels in his mouth. Charlie grins.

Dean takes the tray of drinks uncertainly, but as he’s walking to the table his confidence grows. Sure, it means buying drinks for the two men, but it’ll be worth it means he’s still got a shot with Cas.

“Hey,” he says as he walks up to the table. “Sorry about earlier. I’m not–well, anyway. Let me make it up to you. Drinks are on me, okay?”

Gabriel’s smiling, and Cas seems to be softening, but then something goes horribly wrong. Just as Dean says “okay” his foot finds a spot in the carpet or a chair leg that shouldn’t be there or something; whatever it is, it causes Dean to stumble forward, and the drinks slide off the end of the tray and right into Cas’s face. He looks up at Dean, hair plastered to his head, the skewer of pineapple and cherries from Gabriel’s drink sticking out of his collar. He looks less than pleased.

“Oh,” Dean says, a horrified tone in his voice. “Oh fuck. Oh dammit I said fuck again. Oh...Ah, I’m so, so sorry. Can I...can I help?”

Cas’s gaze is almost painful. “I’m fairly certain you’ve helped enough, Dean.”

The words sting. “Yeah,” he says softly. “Look, I’ll send Charlie over to help you clean up, she’ll take care of you. I’m really–” But he looks at Cas, and his heart breaks a little at a connection missed, or lost, and he doesn’t apologize again. Once was enough. Instead he says, “I hope you’ll come back again. Sam’s cooking, Eileen’s baking, even Charlie’s drinks. They’re all worth it. The Bunker is a good place.”

He nods his head a little, waves Charlie over and goes to check on the booth in the corner. He smiles his charming smile, brings the rowdy, celebrating girls all the drinks and desserts they want, and by the time he’s finished taking care of them, Cas and Gabriel are gone.

Charlie’s right though. The girls are great tippers.

Dean’s warming up the next night when there’s a knock on his door. He looks up from his bench to see Charlie leaning against the doorframe, an odd smile on her face.

“There’s someone here to see you, Dean,” she says. He can’t quite get a read on her voice. She sounds like she’s hiding something, but he can’t figure out what.

He glances at the clock on the wall. “I’ll be out in ten minutes, same as always.

“You can’t come out now?”

He’s annoyed, but only slightly. “I never come out early, Charlie. It breaks the routine. Ten minutes.” He looks at the clock again. “Actually, nine now. Now get out of here so I can get ready.”

“But Dean–”

“Out, Charlie.”

She leaves.

Dean spends a moment or two thinking about the oddness of the encounter; Charlie knows his routines, and knows not to disrupt them. But then he gets back to getting into the mindset he needs, pushing Charlie from his thoughts. He’ll figure her out later.

When Dean steps out onto the small stage wedged into the corner of the dining room there’s a smattering of applause. He smiles and waves then sits down at the baby grand piano that fills the stage. “Hey Baby,” he murmurs, running a hand along the smooth wood. The piano’s been his as long as he can remember; he started taking lessons when he was five and he’s been enchanted by her ever since. He started singing along when he was seven, and started writing his own songs when he was ten. When Sam bought the space for The Bunker he made sure there was a place big enough for Dean to play–because that was what they did. Sam played with food and Dean played with music. This was a way for them to work together.

There are lights in his eyes, so Dean can’t really see into the dining room unless he squints, and it’s usually not all that important to him. He just lives with the music, sometimes doing covers, sometimes doing his own stuff. And everyone seems to like what he does, so he just keeps on doing it his way.

He can’t really see, so he’s surprised when just before he starts the first song, he hears a voice say, “Dean?” It’s a voice he recognizes, a voice that sends a spark down his spine.

His hands slip onto the keys, discordant notes ringing out through the dining room. “Sorry,” he says, flashing his charming grin at the room. “Just a little startled. Can you all give me just a moment?” He keeps up the smile, then steps to the edge of the stage.

“Cas?” And there he is, dark hair disheveled, blue eyes confused, sitting alone at the table nearest the stage.

“I don’t understand,” Cas says. “I thought you…”

Dean rubs at the back of his neck, an embarrassed grin on his face. “Nah, I was just helping out last night. Trust me, I’m not meant to be a server. I’m the talent. I also happen to be the owner’s brother, which is how I got wrangled into helping when two of his waitresses were out. Trust me, he doesn’t ask me often, I’m horrible at the job.”

“I noticed,” Cas says dryly.

Dean only laughs.

Cas looks at the piano on the stage, then back at Dean. “So you...play?”

“And sing. Which I should be doing now. Stick around until my break?” He doesn’t know why, he has no right to even hope, but he thinks Cas might agree.

He does.

THREE MONTHS LATER

“Thanks everyone, you’ve been great,” Dean says, stepping off the stage and meandering through the dining room towards the bar. He accepts compliments from several diners, offering smiles and the occasional handshake. He’s at ease among the crowd, but he’s got a destination in mind, and it’s not until he climbs onto a barstool that he feels truly happy.

“Hello Dean,” Cas says, turning to smile at him.

Dean had been right. That smile, it knocks him out every time.

He slips an arm around Cas’s waist and drops a kiss on his shoulder. “Hey Cas. Missed you.”

“You saw me two hours ago,” Cas says.

“It was a long and difficult two hours,” Dean pouts.

Cas huffs a laugh. “You were at a piano, Dean. You probably didn’t even notice time passing.”

Dean smiles into Cas’s shoulder. “Alright, it felt like a few minutes. But I still missed you.” He looks up into Cas’s eyes, says, “I’m on my break. Let me buy you a drink?”

Cas’s eyes crinkle when he smiles. “Nah,” he says, waving Charlie over. “That’s dangerous. This time the drinks are on me.”

#lirael writes #destiel fic #destiel au #fluff #fluff and nonsense #chef!sam #waiter!dean #charlie bradbury #musician!dean #first meeting #dean can't always control his mouth okay?#and it's adorable

75 notes · View notes