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#and she wants me to come down and visit her in maryland and i want to so badly
lesbianhallieparker · 2 years
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crazy how spending one evening with your 65 year old lesbian cousin can actually be so healing
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1-800-local-slut · 4 months
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With a Heavy Heart- Chapter 3
𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃ℊ𝓈: 𝓈𝓉ℯ𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓃ℊ, 𝓋𝒾ℴ𝓁ℯ𝓃𝒸ℯ 𝒯𝒲: 𝒥*𝒽𝓃 𝒲𝒾𝓃𝒸****ℯ𝓇, 𝒸𝒽𝒾𝓁𝒹 𝒶𝒷𝓊𝓈ℯ (𝒸𝒽𝒾𝓁𝒹 𝓃ℯℊ𝓁ℯ𝒸𝓉, 𝒸𝒽𝒾𝓁𝒹 𝒶𝒷𝒶𝓃𝒹ℴ𝓃𝓂ℯ𝓃𝓉), 𝒶𝓃ℊ𝓈𝓉,𝓈𝓂ℴ𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔,𝓂ℴ𝓃𝓈𝓉ℯ𝓇𝓈,𝓁𝒾𝓉ℯ𝓇𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝓅𝓁𝒶𝓃𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓂𝓊𝓇𝒹ℯ𝓇 𝓁ℴ𝓁, 𝒥ℴ𝒽𝓃’𝓈 𝒶 𝒷𝒶𝒹 𝓅𝒶𝓇ℯ𝓃𝓉 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝓌ℯ 𝒶𝓁𝓇ℯ𝒶𝒹𝓎 𝓀𝓃ℯ𝓌 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉,𝓂ℴ𝓂𝓂𝓎 𝒾𝓈𝓈𝓊ℯ𝓈
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August 16th, 1997
Dear diary- It’s been awhile, I know. But I have a lot to tell you, and I hope you're ready to hear about it. So to start off, mom’s been letting me take solos. I only take small , simple ones close to hers. I can’t hunt with her, she’s either always rushing or always in my way. The older I get it, the more it seems like my mom and I should just go our separate ways. This new system has been helping, she just gives me a few hundred dollars, a bus ticket, and sends me on my way if we’re out of state on spring break or something. Then she’ll call me when it's time for us to leave and meet me at whatever shitty diner she picks. I think when I get my own car though, (i’ve been saving up), I probably won’t see her anymore. Or at least not as often.
There won’t be much keeping me attached to her other than her being my mom. That’s starting to lose meaning in itself. Maybe I should wait until I’m 18. I’m going into my senior year, and I’ll take some time off to sort myself out. I don’t want to enter university to early. Two years off won’t really do anything, and once I turn 17 I’ll start applying to colleges. Or I’ll do online. I saw it on the news a few years ago, 1989, University of Phoenix started an online university. I have the proper grades and credentials to get into a good school and thanks to my stubbornness, I was able to stay in Maryland for school all four years. She also leaves me home alone most times. Said she couldn’t stay tied down in one state for too long. That’s her business though. I think she’s been gone for three weeks, right now she’s hunting a wraith in Wyoming. Then afterwards, she has a banshee in Florida. She won’t be back for a while.
She said her only rules are not to let anyone in at night, and keep an eye on any guest I have during the day. We’ve been staying at my Aunt Lacy’s house, she gave it to my mom when my mom told her we were moving here for school. Aunt Lacy left her car here too, but I don’t drive it often. I don’t have my license and I really do have to stay out of trouble here so I usually walk or catch a bus anywhere I need to go.
I like the house. It’s big, we have tons of space, I get my own room and my own room to do research for my cases. There are two guest rooms as well, I’ve been storing stuff in them though. My mom has never been big on research but she’ll do it if she has too or if she’s in the mood. I like research. It’s easy, and makes sense. I have broken her rules though.
Whenever Dean’s in Maryland or passing through, I let him stay here. He comes to visit me whenever he has the chance. Every time he leaves, it's like one of those movies where the woman sends her lover off to war. I don’t feel bad about breaking my moms rules. I personally feel like it’s not her business what I do. She literally chooses not to be here, it’s not like she’ll know. That’s the next thing I have to tell you! Dean’s bus gets here in a few hours, 7:30 in the morning. I’m excited. When Dean comes, it’s like my own little slice of peace in the world. He’s so sweet with me. He takes away the loneliness for just a few days.
Something else that helps with the loneliness is that mom let me get a cat. He was a stray kitten we found in Tallahassee on our move up here. We fought and I ran away over him, because I couldn’t take being alone anymore. She found me and let me keep him. His name is Salem. Salem Grim. I named him after the cat from Sabrina but I feel like the name fits.
He likes to come with me on my nightwalks and when I visit the cemetery. I’ve been going to visit grandpa every now and again. One issue with Salem is that he keeps trying to eat my cigarettes if he gets into my purse. He hasn’t succeeded in the three times I caught him trying.
 Speaking of those, I lost my cigarettes on the bus ride back from my last hunt. I noticed after dinner. I think they fell out of my purse when the driver swerved like a fucking crazy person and I smacked my head on the window. On the bright side, Dean can get them for me when he’s here and I won’t have to steal them from the convenience store. He's finally old enough to look 21 for his fake ID, John won't even bother him about drinking too much anymore either.
And let’s talk about Dean. He gets more and more handsome everytime I see him. I think I have a crush on him, but honestly? I don’t feel like dealing with that. I don’t think I’m ready. I have enough issues of my own to work through, and Dean’s too emotionally constipated to work through his own issues. He has a new girlfriend in every state. I have my own steady trail of broken hearts (plus if I flirt with Maya's older brother enough he'll get me all the cigarettes and hard liquor I want). Plus I don't want to confess then end up looking fucking stupid!
Would he even be loyal if he knew how I felt about him? He cheated on his last girlfriend (who cursed him out when she caught him and honestly she was right but I won’t tell him that) and even though sometimes it feels like he looks at me like I’m the only girl in the world that might not mean anything to him.
I’ll have to hit the grocery store when Dean comes by, he’ll drive in Lacy’s car for me  (I love when Dean drives me around, and does all the heavy lifting. It’s hot) and we’ll go together. I love that part of his visits when he gets to stay here for a while. I’m gonna head to sleep, I have to get him from the bus stop early in the morning. I’ll write more tomorrow.
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Dean stepped off the bus, the warm air touching his skin and he clutched his backpack. He squinted through the sunlight, and glanced around looking for his friend. Friend seemed like a bit of an insult these days considering his feelings, but he shook those thoughts from his head. All Dean was really worried about was getting into her nice, air conditioned house and away from the heat of the Sun.
He walked onto the sidewalk, and noticed a cherry red car across the street with the lovely lady he’s spent so much of his time with but not enough in his opinion. She was leaning against her aunt's cherry red 1969 Mustang convertible. God, she looked better every time he saw her. She had on a pair of cheetah print sunglasses and was chewing on a piece of gum.
He smiled at her, and jogged across the street to meet up with her. 
“Hey sweetheart.” With a coy smile matching his own, she pushed off the car and pulled him into a hug. He felt a pair of soft lips touch his neck right on his pulse. Good God. Part of him hoped she left a stain. He suppressed a pleased hum. Dean took a small chance and slid his hands down her waist. After a few seconds the two pulled apart. 
“How was your bus ride?” She asked him, walking around to the other side of the car and hopping over the door into the passenger's seat. Dean giggled, knowing she’d always let him drive. He liked it that way, it made him feel like he was her man. Even though he was 99.99% sure it was just because he had an actual license, he'd let himself be delusional. He liked his little rendezvous to Maryland. While he didn’t personally like the state, he liked who was in it.
“It was alright. I’m coming in from Maine so it was a bitch and a half getting here. Dad and Sammy are gonna head to Illinois but dad sent me to handle what’s been terrorizing y’all here in the Old Line state.” Dean responded, throwing his bags into the back seat. Right now he was just on a regular ghost hunt, a salt and burn. It’d take him a few days to deal with, but he was gonna stay for about a week. Even if he had to lie to his dad, which he was definitely about to do.
He liked having a place to return too with food in it that wasn’t a shitty motel. He liked having someone walking around in his t-shirts and flannel shirts, cooking breakfast and doing laundry. You know, instead of the three times it sometimes takes him and Sam to do their laundry correctly.
All he had to do was take out the trash at night, wash up the dishes, maybe cut the grass, and do manual labor. He literally does way harder work than that everyday. In return, he got to cuddle up next too the girl of his dreams every night. No other girl in any other state could compare to her. Sure there were a lot, but in each of them he looked for her. In each of them, he’d look for her strong personality, her unbreakable will and some level of the comfort, trust and safety he had with her. And sure he found girls with those traits, but still none of them were her. None of them could ever be her.
“Good. I just got back from a case in Pennsylvania a few days ago. I got jumped by skinwalkers.” She lifted her hair off her shoulder while she slipped her seatbelt on. Dean chuckled, knowing about her hatred of skinwalkers. She said something about them just made her angry, maybe it was the deceit. His eyes stuck to the way her hair framed her beautiful face despite the white bandana she had tied the front of her hair back to keep it from her eyes.
Ever since she stopped wearing her hair in braids all the time, Dean was enamored by her afro. He loved hearing her talk about it too. Learning about the different hair types during a trip to the hair store was strangely the highlight of his week last time he was here. It was big, and as much as she complained about it she also talked about how much she adored her own hair. Dean loved watching her pick her hair out, and comb her hair into braids before sleeping, and put her myriad of products that were in bottles like potions in her hair. He loved the silk texture of her hair ties and bonnets too.
“Is that your way of telling me you’re not riding with me for this one?” She glared at him playfully and then broke out into a smile but the question was a heavy one. Dean knew she hated leaving for hunts in general but, leaving for days plus encountering her least favorite monster? There’s no way she’d want to go find a ghost. He frowned a bit, knowing he’d be alone on the road for at least two days when she was just a few hours away from him. And no one can start a fire faster than her, which was a plus when one needed to light shit on fire.
“It’s my way of saying I will stay in the car and give moral support.” With a large, dramatic grin, Dean playfully rolled his eyes at her smile. Her hair glittered in the sunlight and it matched her beautiful smile. Starting the car, he grabbed the stick shift and reversed the car. 
They cruised down the street making leisure conversation until eventually they pulled up to the gorgeous home. The Sun shone on her skin, painting her a gorgeous sun kissed color. Her lips had gloss on them that Dean just wanted to kiss off. Pulling into the driveway and parking. Dean stepped out first, before he ran around the front of the car.
He popped open the car door for her and she stepped out, uttering a soft ‘thank you’. Handing him his bag, they began to walk up the porch, leaving the car on the street. It would be a few minutes of them in the house before they went to the grocery store, no point reopening the garage. Behind her Dean stopped staring at her from behind for a few minutes, and looked around. The neighborhood was beautiful, one with kids playing up and down the street, some adults rode past on their bikes calling out good mornings. In front of him, the younger huntress called back a good morning to a man on a bike who called out to her.
People knew her here. She had been here long enough for her neighbors to recognize her and wave hello when she got home. Long enough for her neighbors to raise an eyebrow upon seeing Dean go inside with her, clearly knowing it was just her and her mom. Dean felt a pang of jealousy, and another weight settled over him. She had normalcy. Consistency. Neighbors who worried about a strange young man entering her home, who knew that it was just her living in that big house. Who looked out for intruders, out of kindness for their teenage neighbor whose mom was always away working some job that prevented her from being fully present.
The front door unlocked and she pushed it open for Dean. He stepped inside, putting his bag down next to the door. The house was still beautiful, with its usual cozy air. The living room he stood in now was just as welcoming as it was last time he was here.
It was his 18th birthday, with her mom here with his dad and Sammy. They needed help researching a case. That same night Dean snuck out of the guest room and into her room where she left the door unlocked for him. The 16 year old laid on his chest while they watched TV, something simple. He still remembered the comfort her soft pajamas and many sheets gave to his tense muscles. She had asked him, ‘are you scared to turn 18’ and he replied ‘what do I have to be scared of’ and she didn’t answer. Then two hours later, 17 turned to 18 as the clock struck midnight. With a soft kiss to his clothed chest, she wished him a happy birthday.
 January 24th 1997, he laid in the room with her while she snuggled into him. He understood then what he had to be afraid of. Rain poured outside the window, the soft pattering of the rain matched his quickening heartbeat.  He was technically an adult now. He didn’t graduate high school, he didn’t have any other plans with his life that didn’t involve hunting (he honestly gave up quitting long ago but the idea still danced in his brain at times), he didn’t even have a job that gave him money.
What if some day he was given the chance to get out? What would he have then? He wouldn't be able to do anything, as far as the government is aware he just fell off the Earth with his dad and brother after a freak accident that killed his mom. How do you go back into the regular world? Waves of anxiety began to wash over him in just a few seconds and then they were washed away. He felt toned arms squishing him. 
“Happy Birthday, Dean.” She whispered softly. Right. He wasn’t alone. He relaxed his arms and relaxed his tightened grip on her that he didn’t even realize he had. 
“It’ll be okay. You’ll be okay, it’ll work out.” And Dean remembered those words fondly. He remembered how she smiled at him and ran her nails through his hair. That was when. That was the moment when Dean felt his heart swell with comfort and love. She held him through the short waves of panic, and from then Dean knew he wanted no one else in this world. Eventually they drifted off into a calm sleep, and Dean didn’t even wake up to sneak back into his room with his dad and Sammy. For once he let himself sleep in and nothing woke him while he was in her arms. Not Sammy, not his dad, nothing.
Now, Dean was sitting on a soft red porch swing, holding a glass of lemonade.
“Thanks sweetheart. So what’s the agenda for today?” He asked while taking a sip and holding his arm out for her to sit down next to him. She complied, and snuggled into his muscular frame. Dean loved holding her, she always felt like a pillow and smelt like lavender, vanilla and cocoa butter. A muscular arm wrapped around her and she brought her knees up for her chest and pressed her back into his side.
A book was placed down, with a steaming cup of tea on the small table right next to her and her purse right next to it. Wrapping her own arms around her knees Dean admired her face while she thought. Salem jumped up in front of the two and attempted to crawl onto his owner's lap and received head scratches. Dean reached around and gave the loveable cat some affection as well. 
“I was thinking we could hit the grocery store in about an hour, then the deli and the fruit market. I haven’t gone since I came back. Then we can do some research for your case, have dinner and get you set to head out tomorrow.” Of course she thought it all out. One of the many things he loved about her. He nodded and pulled her closer to him while she ran her hands over the fur of Salem.
“Can we get pie?” 
“I already put it on the list. Can you buy me cigarettes?” He hid a smile at hearing she already put his food on the list. It made his heart flutter and he hoped she couldn’t feel it. She frowned and muttered something about sooner rather than later.
“Only if you let me have beers too.” Upon hearing his request she snapped up and turned, slapping him on his chest. 
“Absolutely not! Last time you never finished them. I had to drink four on my own before my mom found them.” Dean laughed at the wagging finger in front of his face. In his defense, last time he had to leave early. John called him, saying Sam came down with a fever and he needed Dean back to help as soon as possible. So he woke her up three days before he planned to leave, told her the news and left to catch a bus to New York.
"Why didn't you just throw them away or give them to one of your friends?" Dean asked through breathless chuckles.
"I panicked and drank them all but then I was drunk and had to just toss the bottles out the window so they'd land in a bush." She laughed, hiding her face in her hands and Dean took special notice to how the Sun caught in her brown eyes. She way her shoulders shook lightly with each inhale.
“You can’t get ‘em without me sweetheart.” With a huff, she then playfully rolled her eyes and went back to leaning against him. Dean was just happy that she relished being around him in any capacity.
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It was dark now. The Sun fully set ten minutes ago, as Dean drove the car filled with groceries down the street. They’d been out all day, getting groceries, trying new food, and when she discovered that Dean only had three pairs of underwear, they went straight to the store to get him some new clothing. Now all they needed to do was pick up dinner, some beers and they’d have themselves a set night. A random song played through the radio. Her eyes were shut in peace while the wind blew across her face. Even at night, the moonlight illuminated her warm skin and kissed her cheeks. 
Returning his focus to the road, Dean continued to drive until he pulled up to a 7-Eleven across the street from a restaurant she told him had some really good Chinese food. Dean didn’t care though, as long as he got food in his body. 
“Get up.” He whispered as he nudged the still girl. He took the chance to stare at her. Her lashes fluttered against her skin and her two toned lips were plump and full. Dean admired her until her eyes quickly shot open. Creepy as shit but he’d let it go.
“Oh are we here?” She asked as she looked at Dean who averted her gaze. 
“We are. Let’s hurry up before the groceries go bad.” Dean repeated his usual habit of opening the door for her and she stepped out. As she laid her head on his shoulder covered in his dads leather jacket, she shook sleep out of her body. Standing still, Dean glanced up at the stars that twinkled through the sky. 
“I’m gonna go order the food. I want Marlboro blacks and nothing else.” With a stretch Dean stuck up a thumb and winked at her. 
“Oooo charming.” She remarked with a teasing smirk while the two separated from the parking lot. Dean entered the 7-Eleven, wandering to the back. He fucked around for five minutes, looking through magazines and CD’s. Then he spent another five debating which slushie he should get and if he even wanted one. He decided against it in the end. He grabbed two six packs of beers, then went up to the cash register. The cashier stared at him with a blank stare that sent a chill through Dean’s spine and activated some bloodlust in him that he only ever got while hunting. Still, it could’ve just been an actual chill. Maybe he was just cold.
“Marlboro blacks.” Dean kept his eyes glued on the woman who blinked up at him for two minutes. Then she broke out into a wild, large smile that allowed Dean to see all of her teeth and gums. He shuddered, as she swung her body around instead of simply turning her neck. Her arms seemed incredibly long, too long and thick for her small body. Like they were trying to change into something else. That certainly wasn’t normal. He licked his lips as his eyes narrowed as he contemplated his choices.
Did he kill it? Interrogate it? As Dean thought, he let his eyes travel to the glass the cigarettes were behind. He was met with purely white eyes in the reflection staring right back at him as a car drove past and the light shone in. Dean’s blood went cold. The woman was no longer smiling, a straight face with deep frown lines, while her long arms opened the display then threw the pack onto the counter behind her.
For a moment Dean was frozen. Completely frozen, which is the number one thing you should never do in an encounter like this. But he had no idea what this was. Did he leave it alone? Did he just run away? Did he say something to it? A few more seconds passed. Suddenly the door opened and in walked his huntress.
“What the fuck is taking you so long?” For some reason she didn’t come inside, but stuck the top part of her body inside.
“Nothing, I was just-” He started as the woman resumed moving around again, and she turned back to face Dean. Her eyes were completely normal and she blinked with a warm smile. 
“I got the food, let’s go.” She was rushing to leave, her mouth set in a deep frown. Dean nodded at her, left 20 dollars on the counter and grabbed a lighter on his way out.
“Thank you! Come again soon!” The ‘woman’ called while the two hunters fled. They made their way back to the car, and Dean didn’t even make sure the door was properly closed before he peeled off into the night, speeding down the empty streets. Glancing back in the rearview mirror, Dean saw two sets of white eyes standing in the street far behind.
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“That bitch was really creepy.” Dean said as he used his chopsticks to eat a piece of chicken.
“The dude I got was weird too. Ain’t nothing normal around here I guess.” She grumbled as she ashed her cigarette and Dean took a sip of his beer.
The two had gotten home, and pulled the car into the garage and unloaded the groceries in silence.  The two took a much needed shower, and Dean saw her putting her hair into four large braids before slipping on a silk bonnet.
Then, after doing the usual nightly routine of locking all the doors and windows, the two were sat in the living room eating dinner while the TV played the weather in the back. A silver hatchet sat next to Dean as he flipped through a book in front of him that was on the coffee table. Next to the huntress's food, was a gun loaded with silver bullets. The two had been reading through the lore now, and realized they had encountered two shape shifters with terrible social skills.
“God, you want one normal night and here come the bums to ruin everything.” She scoffed, taking a drag of her cigarette and blowing out the smoke. She finished eating and opened up her spring rolls, taking a bite out of one before she lifted the book off the table. Folding her legs over the arms of her recliner, she pulled the book into her lap and sighed. Salem once again jumped onto her lap, she pressed a kiss to his forehead and the cat purred, nuzzling his head into his owner. 
“Well, we take care of those two, and you can have all the normal nights you want until the next bottom feeders roll in.” Dean’s green eyes scanned over the page. His brain was unable to focus, feeling fried from all the reading.
“Says here they tend to live in packs.” Read off the young woman but she frowned. Now she had to hunt a pack. Fun. Dean had his own thing, he wouldn’t have time to help her hunt a whole pack. First skinwalkers, and now their freaky ass cousins. With an aggressive sigh, she slammed the book shut and threw it on the floor. It landed with a thud on the rug and she crossed her arms over her chest.
“Aw, don’t pout.” Mocking laughter added to her annoyance. Dean watched her flick her crumbs off her fingers at him. He took his final sip of beer and finished off his first one of the night. He let out a belch with his eyes flickering to her plump lips drinking from the bottle. He shoved a piece of chicken into his mouth and he grinned at her. 
“Let’s look into your ghost guy now.” Dean groaned remembering his own hunt. Son of a bitch, he forgot all about that.
“Ghost AND shape shifters? You should consider moving.” Folding his hands he leaned back against the couch.
“Haha. Come on, I’ll go on my hunt tomorrow, you’ll go on yours and we’ll see each other soon enough.” Dean wasn’t sure when she got up and retrieved her book. But there she was standing over his sitting form with Salem in her hand like he was a baby. Pushing the book into his chest with her free hand, Dean let out a groan of exasperation. 
“Read the book!” She scolded as he began to playfully fight her on the couch. Salem jumped free and Dean took the chance to grab her arms and swing her into his lap.
“No! Read it to me, like a bedtime story.” He pulled her body into his with brute strength and she squealed. 
“Dean no, I have to do my own research!” She was laughing but Dean knew she was right. He rested his chin in the crook of her neck and let out a low grunt. The silk of her bonnet tickling his forehead.
Suddenly the world and his heart beat slowed, and time stopped as they made eye contact. His skin felt warm from the weight of her sitting on him he could notice every little thing. Her breath seemed to hitch, and her eyelashes fluttered.
Dean wanted to slowly, ever so slowly, bring her closer and plant a tender kiss on her lips. It was like this force existed between them, pulling them closer and closer together with each passing second. A The pull felt like it came right from his chest and his eyes wanted to flutter shut on their own for a deep kiss.
Would she hold his face in her hands while he held her hips? Would she turn her body to face his, and place her legs on the side of his? How would she kiss him, slowly? Then, she'd push up against him, and they'd refuse to part for air until totally necessary. His hands would find her thighs and squeeze the soft, doughy flesh and maybe she'd let out a small whimper while he pressed kisses down her neck. Down the front, deeply inhaling her scent and feeling her shudder lightly.
How did they go from playing to suddenly being sucked into their own little world? And how could Dean ever be expected to leave?
She tore her eyes away first and brought her attention back to the book. Right, the book. And the rest of the world. Blinking, Dean was able to clear his mind even if just for two seconds.
Someone had to take care of the two shapeshifters they had encountered tonight as well as the ghost. As much as Dean wanted to kill them himself or even wished he took the chance to fight while he was still in the store, he didn’t. Now he’d probably return to an empty home while she cleared out the shapeshifters.
“Ooorrrr we can go back to the store tonight, kill the shapeshifters, and then tomorrow you can give me that moral support from the car!” He suggested, burying his face in her neck. She rolled her eyes playfully. He should’ve known she wasn’t going to head back out. The  minute they came in she ushered him into the shower, complaining that he smelt like outside and 7-Eleven. She was comfortable in her pajamas and slippers.
“Or, since you’ll miss me so much we can clear out the shifters tomorrow, and then we go do the ghost thing.” Dean’s eyes lit up like it was Christmas. Of course! It was genius! Start up here, catch the two and find their pack if  they were with a pack. In that case, Dean would have to stay and handle them and he’d get to stay with her. If not they’d drive down to Baltimore and get the ghost! Either way they stayed together, it was perfect.
“Of course I’ll help you out sweet heart.” She scoffed and placed her cigarette in his mouth. Taking a drag he exhaled and gave her a toothy grin.
“Okay, let’s head to bed. I leave early for my hunts.” Dean protested as she shut off the TV. When she said early, she without a doubt always meant early. He knows because he remembers the last time everyone was together, and she woke up at 4:30 with her mom for their own hunt and the two were back in time for lunch.
And she stayed true to her word. It was 4:30 when Dean woke up to her rising out the bed, wiggling out of his tight grasp. The two hunters were now in the car, loaded with everything needed to kill a ghost, a shifter, some tupperware containers with lunch (some curry chicken and white rice and he felt honored knowing she remembered his favorite dish of hers) and 4 beers in a cooler. Dean drove silently, the Sun rising as they made their way back to the 7-eleven. At least Dean knew it would be quick. She never had time to converse on her hunts, always preferring to just aim, kill and go back home. Dean could do the interrogating of the other shapeshifter at the food shop. 
“If they aren’t here, I’m gonna give up.” Whispered the girl. Even though it was still incredibly early in the morning, she still looked perfect. Her brown eyes had slight bags under them and she was fidgeting with the ends of the two large braids she neatly plaited her hair into. Her cargo pants slightly twisted around her body and she quickly adjusted them. Pulling up to their location, Dean watched as she pulled out her gun and handed Dean his hatchet.
“You think you’ll need backup?”
“No, a silver bullet and he won’t put up a fight.” Dean found it sexy when she talked like that, all determined and smart. He watched her with a crooked smile and he wet his lips with his tongue. Green eyes scanned her curved figure like they were the last thing they’d ever see. Dean would be very pleased if she was the last thing he ever saw.
“In and out.” He nodded back, feeling the fire pump through his blood that he always got before a hunt. That thrill would never leave Dean, as sick as it was. He was about to do some good, save some lives, and take a few in the process. He watched her cock her gun, as she walked towards the Chinese restaurant and he adjusted his grip on the hatchet, entering the convenience store. Maybe he’d get a slushy on his way out.
༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻
Notes:
And that's part two, I hope you're all enjoying this story so far! Also, weird fact, the title of this was originally 'Apple Pie and Cigarettes' but I kept thinking of Apple Jack from MLP for some reason? It was so weird, cuz I watched that show like 1000s years ago when I was little and I hardly watched it but thats a tiny part of why I changed the title. But part of me really wants to change it back, I liked that title.
Its a way for me to show that Dean and the reader aren't burdened by the weight of the world together, they don't have any expectations together. They can just enjoy themselves with the simple things. They aren't these big serious hunters when their together, their just a normal couple enjoy their vices at the end of the day. Anyways, I'm still considering it <3
Also please let me know if you want to be added to my Dean Winchester taglist or this series taglist in the notes <3
Dean Winchester Taglist:
@roseblue373
@titty-teetee
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techycatartist · 4 months
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Coastermaynia 2024 Day 31– Your Choice! (Lightnin’ Loops at Six Flags Great Adventure)
@coastermaynia
My third and final entry for this year’s Coastermaynia. The 31st has always been a “free space” for artists, allowing them to choose any coaster they want. In this case, I chose two! The original “interlocking loops” coaster(s), Lightinin’ Loops was Great Adventure’s first launch coaster. Though they would eventually be seperated and sent to other parks, the Lower “Blue” Loop still runs today as “Diamond Back” at Frontier City. Personality-wise, “Blue” was excitable and curious while “Red” was more level-headed and easygoing. They were known for throwing after-hour dance parties— ones where the spirit of Disco was kept alive.
There’s a short story that goes with this peice; click down here to view it!
Blue,
Today marks your re-birth day, and unfortunately one where we must spend it apart. It simply wasn’t in the cards for me. I will be sure to visit Frontier City in the coming weeks— I am not too familiar with it, but I appreciate the western charms it displays. It may take a while, but I believe you will find a home there.
It would be remiss of me to not inform you about your sister. Red was relocated to Wild World in Maryland and is going into her second season there. She goes by “Python” now and is dressed in blues. A lovely coincidence to see you two share a theme. I know you’ll find your way back to each other soon.
A year after your closures, a new-age “inverted” coaster was built. Cars hang under the track, but are fixed unlike XLR-8. It is themed to Batman, as the park is now owned by a movie studio. This year, they have opened a simulator ride. They are dead-set on making Great Adventure a “cinematic” experience, and it appears to be working. Though I miss you dearly, I am relieved to know that you and your sister remain operational. Don’t hesitate to visit when you have the chance.
In all the gifts I could’ve sent to you, I think nothing would be more meaningful than this. Keep it close, and cherish it forever.
Distance may separate us, but you will always be my daughter.
-Runaway Mine Train
(Oh, and for some context; RMT and the LL twins are not biologically related, but she views them as her daughters regardless)
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heavyhitterheaux · 2 years
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How Ree's car got totaled on the way to Kentucky, she went back home to Maryland and still made it back on time for the show and Jackman gave her backstage passes 🥴😐
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Okay, buckle the fuck up because
HERE
WE
GO
Okay sooo I'm really not going to get into the whole accident part because I'm still pretty sad about it for obvious reasons but I will give yall a timeline about how everything worked out
I left on Friday at 3 am from Maryland in order to get to Louisville by 1:30- 2 pm because the way I drive, it was NOT about to take 9 hours
Zoom zoom, bitch
Okay anyway
We are literally 3 and a half hours away when the accident happened and why when my dumbass made sure I had all my limbs and my glasses weren't broken, I was like.... okay soooo.... how are we getting to Kentucky?
BITCHHHHH THE FUCKING DEDICATION
I was very upset because I knew that I had to call my sister and I feel like I failed because I wanted to prove that I was responsible enough to do this seeing as I basically don't go anywhere without her
I have literally never been away from my sister longer than like 72 hours
And of course she's like you're my only sister and I could care less about the car all that matters is that you're alive 🥺
And of course we both proceeded to cry
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Long story short, I had to end up going back home (keep in mind ya girl was more than halfway there)
So Shantai who was driving my car at the time (remember she went with me to see him in October)
She gets admitted to the hospital because she basically blacked out while she was driving my car and yeah
ANYWAY
So my big sister, Rae, comes to the rescue
She had dropped me off at the nail shop because two of them broke in the accident and she's like it looks like we're going on a road trip 😭😭😭
She knows how important this was to me and that this was basically a late birthday/Christmas gift to myself and I was determined to get back to Kentucky because I fought for my damn life to get those tickets
Like I was crying so much that it wasn't even funny
I got some things out of my car when I originally went home, but coming back with Rae, I got the rest and took the plates off
(We not gonna talk about how my front license plate was basically ripped off and sitting in the back seat along with other pieces of my car 🙃)
Like airbags are deployed and the entire underside is ruined and yeah soo
TOTALED
Just grateful to walk away without any broken bones, I'll take the broken heart from losing my first car that I worked so hard for
Onto bigger and better and I can't change the past
We left Sunday morning at 3 am, got into Louisville around 2 something and because the reservation was still in Shantai's name and they actually HELD THE ROOM (which we were all very surprised by), we stayed at The Galt House Hotel which is right next to the KFC Yum Center.
THAT SHIT WAS NICEEEE
It was like a damn apartment up in that bitch
And I was lowkey sad about not being able to be there that long
Like ya girl was about to visit Churchill Downs, eat Alfredo at Vincenzo's and go to Morris Deli
But it's okay, I'll be back
So because I am fucking exhausted, I go to sleep and get up to take a shower and get ready
BITCHHHHH I'm hype now
I GET TO SEE MY BABY FOR THE SECOND TIME IN 2 MONTHS
Okay so let's get into this outfit
White shirt
Black tulle skirt
Fishnets
Combat boots
Leather jacket
YA GIRL WAS LOOKING FUCKING AMAZING, OKAY!?! (And I got Hella compliments. Everyone was like you look so pretty 🥺😭)
By this time, it's like 7:40 and we walk to the arena
IT WAS FUCKING FREEZING
Anyway, the arena is huge and it took us a minute to find our seats
Once we did, I could have cried because it was like the perfect view 🥺🥺🥺🥺
Okay so me and Rae are vibing to the opening acts and then I hear the first notes of Talk of the Town and I was like
BITCHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
HERE
WE
FUCKING
GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
AHHHHHHHH
When he hit the stage I SWEA TA GAWD he looked so fine and I said it loud as shit too lmao
My sister was like Oh... he is cute
I was like HEAUX BACK UP!
I SAW HIM FIRST 😭😭😭
So we're dancing and singing however why do I always happen to pick the section that is NEVER lit
(Section 111 do better, babes. Ya killing me smalls)
But I don't fucking care
YA GIRL IS GOING IN
SUNDOWN
GHOST
21C/DELTA
TYLER HERRO
LUV IS DRO
WARSAW
Literally screaming every lyric at the top of my lungs
Okay so boom
OUTFIT CHANGE
I was like okay baby I see you looking like you stepped out 1970
Oh important side note: URBAN WAS FUCKING HIDING ALL NIGHT FROM ME AGAIN (I'm getting real tired of his shit)
Okay back to the story
LIKE A BLADE OF GRASS
MOVIE STAR
NAIL TECH
POISON
WHAT'S POPPIN
ALREADY BEST FRIENDS
INDUSTRY BABY
Oh
My
Gawd
When he did State Fair, I just about MELTED 🥺🥺🥺
And then the girl with the sign talking about the titties missed you
And Jack was like excuse me this is a family show 😭😭😭
But yet...
You got a song called I Wanna See Some Ass bro....
Okay, Jackman
Of course he had the hose and acted like a damn fool
And of course the little basketball thingy
They kept missing except one person so Jack was like if I make it, they all win
He missed like 3 times
And I was like bitch
Cancel the movie NEOW 😭😭😭
Like he is the definition of white men can't jump lmaooooo
I kid, I kid lmao
Anyway
IT WAS HOT AS FUCK IN THERE
And the fire DID NOT HELP
I was like STINK TURN.IT.OFF.NEOW.
A bitch almost came out her clothes
(Backstage with Jackman's eyes only of course)
So I'm just so PROUD OF HIM 😭😭😭
Of course he ended with First Class and we wait until it clears out because I wasn't trying to get trampled and if someone stepped on my skirt it would have been on sight
And when we get to the merch line, my sister was like uhh yeah imma need a shirt too 😭😭😭
She has officially come to the dark side
I saw my mother in law and she is actually taller than what I expected
Like I was just walking, turned to the left and did a double take lmaoooo
And I told her I would help cook for Christmas lmaoo
Like Jack stole her entire face 😭😭😭
So we get our shirts and... I TOOK A PIC NEXT TO THE KFC BUCKET WITH BIG HEAD'S FACE ON IT!
That bucket was tall as fuck
Okay so after that
We only slept for four hours before getting back on the road to go home
We made it to the Maryland state line in 6 hours 😭
Very thankful my sister drove because even though I wasn't driving when the accident took place, I just can't bring myself to do it right now.
All in all
I had an amazing time and much thanks to my big sister for saving the day and making her little sister's wish come true 🥺
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sunflowernyx · 5 months
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Chapter 1 I Newest chapter
He’s halfway up the stairs, patting his pockets for his keys, when he finds the note. A folded, plain sheet of paper with the inscription in a familiar hand by a manicured hand:
In case you and Dr Scully would like to throw the first stone; there is more than one way to kill a god.
On the other side is an address.
He pockets it.
Mulder knows not to let Spender get in his head, but it’s difficult. He’d painted a picture that kept expanding with very little information and very few admittances on his own meddling in Scully’s life and affairs, but by the time the door opens to his home, Mulder can’t help but wonder if Dana Scully was placed in his path to create a weakness or to spy on him.
Which had been the whole point of Spender’s set-up. It’s never just a one-sided trap, and Mulder knows if he avoids it now there’s a whole minefield ahead of him.
He wants to believe her. He needs her to be who she claims to be so badly. For himself and for Emily. Because for once in his life, he wants to be able to do the right thing by the people in his life.
And it would be easy too, coming back home to the vision that greets him as he steps into the living room.
Golden light falls across bookshelves, couches and half-empty mugs of cooling cacao, warming the skin of the girl and the woman curled up sound asleep in a nest of blankets and pillows. The television flickers silently on the midpoint of a family film, keeping them company in the night without disturbing their rest.
Scully’s knees curl up and her arm goes around the little girl, whose head is nestled under her chin, her cheek rounding against Scully’s shoulder. And  it is so peaceful, so picturesque, that Mulder could easily delude himself into imagining this to have been what he came home to for many months already, that it is, has always been, and always will be the norm.
He crosses the carpet on soft feet and kneels by the two girls to brush his fingers lightly down from Scully’s temple to her chin.
The hood of her eyelids slides up, revealing the clear blue sky below, and he watches the clouds of sleep clear with momentary pleasure.
“Mulder?” She murmurs, void deep with sleep.
Her arm tightens carefully around Emily.
“‘Morning,” he greets her. “Sorry for coming back so late. I know you have work in the evening.”
“It’s okay,” she says, and he knows she means it. “How’s the case going?”
Her hand brushes over Emily’s head in a caress light enough it doesn’t wake her.
“Slow,” he admits. “Thanks for watching her for me. I know it can’t have been easy to get time off work.”
Scully hesitates, and he can see it in her face; the war between greedily wanting time with her daughter and her practicality. If he had not reminded her of work he’s sure she would’ve asked if he needed a babysitter the next day too, and the next.
It makes him want to do dumb, reckless things.
Scully has been in their lives for only a handful of weeks, and in that time she has spent every free moment she could manage getting to know Emily. It’d meant a Saturday at the zoo, and another drinking hot chocolate by an ice rink.
He’d taken a Tuesday off on an invitation to visit a lab with her at the University of Maryland, where they’d done the DNA testing assuring everyone that there was no doubt in terms of familial connection. Afterwards they’d gone for a walk in the park, below the snow covered trees and Mulder had swung Emily up on his shoulders, while Scully brought them hot churros, and not for the first time had he considered what they might look like to passers-by. How easy it would be if that image weren’t just a superficial reflection on the water, hiding a much deeper, more murky truth.
“The rest of my duties on this involve paperwork and leading meetings, though,” he says in the present. “So I’ll be home at regular times from now on.”
“Oh. That’s good,” she lies.
And Mulder, he—
He almost laughs. Sleepy and adorable and transparent, he doesn’t think Dana Scully could lie even if she tried.
“Which means I’ll have time and space for dinner,” he clarifies, unable to keep his smile to himself. “This was your first time alone with Emily tonight, and I thought we should keep the momentum going so she really gets used to you. What do you say?”
Start chapter here
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cecilysass · 2 years
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How to Eat Pleasant Holiday Meals With Co-Workers (2/5)
Read on AO3 | Rated M | Tagging @today-in-fic
This is an expansion of a one-chapter fic posted last year. Chapter 1 was posted for the Secret Santa exchange 2021; the other chapters (like this one) are new.
Thanksgiving Day 1994
You can’t see very much from the window of the containment facility. Most of her view is rough gray concrete, she thinks probably the side of a parking deck. Through the far end of the window she can see a solitary tree already entirely divested of its leaves. She has been here a week, so she knows that at this time in the early afternoon, the tree’s spindly limbs begin to cast a labyrinth of twisted shadows over the white walls of her tiny room. The effect is bleak. There is no beauty in it.
Scully, lying on her back on the hard cot, contemplates the maze of shapes moodily, seeing no way out. She knows she should be getting up, moving around, maybe putting in some time on the exercise bike. There are three weeks left in quarantine, and she has strength to gain back after what she has been discreetly referring to as “her time away.” She can’t afford to have listless days. She has to stay strong, stay sharp.
But she can’t seem to motivate herself to do it.
For one, her lower abdomen is twinging again. Ever-so-slightly, in that way she doesn’t want to think about. That faint sensation of menstrual cramps that seems to keep coming back, ever since she returned, ever since Duane Barry and Skyland Mountain. It’s not the painful cramps she gets before her period, just that clenching, an unnatural tension, coming and going.
It makes dread creep down her spine. Because the word “why” is a hole her mind falls into, a hole that goes down and down with no discernible bottom. She can’t even bear to mention it to anyone, even her doctors, though she knows rationally that she should, of course she should, it’s ridiculous that she hasn’t.
She also knows it’s eleven in the morning here at the Raymond Containment Facility in Washington state. Which means it is almost two in Maryland.
Right now, if she were at her mother’s, she and Melissa would be chopping the potatoes, joking about having an early glass of wine. Her mother would be playing Dean Martin CDs and singing along into a wooden spoon microphone, and she and Melissa would probably roll their eyes and laugh. Bill and Tara would arrive – we’re so glad you’re back in one piece, Dana, come here, let me hug you – and possibly they would have brought her some of that poppyseed bread she likes from the bakery in San Diego. She and Bill would set the table together and elbow one another and bicker. They would all feel a little lost because it is the first Thanksgiving without her father, and they would probably cry a little, but they would also hold each other tight.
We’re so blessed you’re here with us, baby, her mother would keep saying. I prayed hard to have you here for Thanksgiving this year.
None of that is happening, though. That’s not the Thanksgiving she is having, because Scully is sitting in level two quarantine in a makeshift CDC containment center in the middle of nowhere Washington state. Today she will be tested for gruesome silicon-based fungal spores, again, and she will spend the day wearing glorified hospital scrubs.
There are footsteps outside her open door. She knows who it is, of course. Because there is only one person it could be.
“Want to go for a run?” Mulder’s voice is cheerful. She glances over to see him standing in the door of her small room, wearing the same bland gray scrubs she is, a book under his arm. Their quarantine was downgraded after a week, so now they can move around the small facility, visit one another's rooms.
“Like they’ll let us outside,” Scully says dourly.
“Up and down the corridors?” Mulder says, playacting running. “Gotta make room for that turkey, Scully.”
“It’s one corridor, no more than fifteen feet long,” she snaps. “Go ride the exercise bike.”
He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t move from her door either. She is pretending to examine her fingernails, but she can practically feel her partner’s worry pelting her in little direct hits from across the room.
She turns to look at him. He is leaning against the door frame, watching her.
“Are you coming in or not, Mulder?” she says, with a small sigh. Because there is no sense in getting Mulder all wound up again, for heaven’s sake.
He nods, walking inside, and she scoots up her legs on her cot so that he can sit at the foot. There is not much guest seating in these rooms. He sits down with his knees facing the door, still giving her tentative sideways looks. She has a sudden childish urge to kick him, to scream at him, to tell him to stop being so fucking careful with her.
“I’m really sorry you can’t be with your family today, Scully,” he says, reading her mind in his annoyingly prescient way. “I know you were probably looking forward to it.”
“You didn’t put a silicon-based fungal organism inside Mount Avalon, Mulder. You didn’t even want me to come along on the case. I hardly think it’s your fault.”
He glances up at her with a half-smile, but doesn’t say anything.
“I was hoping maybe they would let me call my mom’s later today,” Scully says. “The orderly said she would ask.”
“That’s great,” Mulder says. He shifts on the end of the bed. “You know, I was supposed to show you how to do cranberry sauce the right way this year. Instead of that nasty jelly crap you like. But I don’t think they’re going to let me into the kitchen.”
“Probably not.”
“Last Thanksgiving seems like a long time ago,” Mulder says.
She nods. With faint surprise she remembers Ethan, his pathetic call to her apartment, his nasty-minded barb about fucking her new partner.
She had been very serious about Ethan. She has to remind herself about that, because truthfully, she hardly thinks of him at all now. He seems like an ex-boyfriend from someone else’s life, or from a movie she once saw.
All of the space in her life that Ethan once occupied, all of the space in her mind that was once devoted to thinking about him: what he might like for dinner, what he might think about this weekend idea, what it might be like to be with him for the long run, is now simply … gone.
It was crowded out entirely. By her work. By the endless, fascinating, all-consuming puzzle that her work now poses, which absorbs all of her mental energy.
And by Mulder himself. By his personality and his intellect and his physical presence. She glances at him now, sitting bent over on the edge of her bed, looking down at his knees morosely. Her feelings for Mulder aren’t romantic, obviously. He’s her partner, her friend. But it is undeniably intense —even overwhelming — the way he has taken over her life in every respect. It sometimes astounds her: the Mulderness of Mulder. His effect on her.
It isn’t romantic. Still, sometimes, just because of the intensity, little things can set them a little off balance, make things start to feel uneasy.
This could be a problem even before her abduction. Now that she is back, and he is guilty and solicitous, and he spent all that time with her mom, and he wore her cross necklace around his own neck, the dynamic is off-kilter and unnatural and emotional. So it’s a bigger problem. She knows a recalibration is needed.
“Have you been doing some reading, Mulder?” She looks down at the book he has gripped in his hands.
“Just a novel to pass the time.” He looks down, too.
“Remains of the Day?”
“Well, there’s not a huge paperback selection here, and I remembered you said you liked it,” he says, spreading his hand over the cover. “But I gotta tell you, Scully, it’s even more depressing than I expected.”
Scully feels her face redden, remembering the book’s plot. A man so devoted to his work he never acts on his feelings for his co-worker who is in love with him. She did tell Mulder she liked it, didn’t she? She even joked around with him about learning lessons from it, tried to convince him to see the movie. This is exactly the kind of thing she means—a recalibration is definitely needed. That was last year, last Thanksgiving. She would never make a joke like that now. Now she is far more careful about the delicate ecosystem of emotions in their partnership.
“Is this man really going to let his whole life go by?” Mulder says, looking down at the book. “Such a waste.”
“You should have found something lighter.”
“Or is he going to have a change of heart in the end? I was hoping that was why it was called ‘remains of the day.’ Because even though he was older, there was still some time left, to have a satisfying life?”
“I’m obviously not going to tell you the ending.”
“Yeah,” he says, a goofy smile. “I wouldn’t guess you would.”
She returns his smile half-heartedly, and her eyes refocus behind him on the winding passages of shadows on the wall, curving around and around.
“Are you… okay, Scully?”
“I’m fine,” she sighs. “As I have said many times.”
“There’s not anything I could do to—”
“I swear, if you ask me that again, you won’t need to worry about any silicon-based fungal organisms, Mulder, because you’re going to face a different end of life.”
He chuckles, and she’s satisfied that she has forestalled another round of guilty and concerned questions. Sometimes when he looks at her now, she swears she can still see her hospital bed reflected in his eyes, like it has been imprinted there forever.
“Do you want to do something?” he suggests. “Play cards, maybe?”
He’s got this hopeful, boyish expression. She can’t help but feel drawn in. Cards doesn’t sound too maudlin.
“Do you have a deck of cards?”
“No.” He smiles. “You?”
She tilts her head to give him a look. “No.”
“Not a very well thought-out plan, I guess.”
“When are they ever?”
His bottom lip looks so plump, so delicious, there in the arch of his smile.
Her feelings for Mulder aren’t romantic. But he is objectively good-looking, and he’s always there. Sometimes she can’t help but entertain thoughts. She assumes this isn’t uncommon with partners. Especially partners whom you’ve also become emotionally close to for perfectly understandable reasons. Partners who have saved your life, who have comforted you, who have completely taken over your calendar. Not to mention inexplicably spent lots of time with your mom.
She indulges for a moment in a quick thought experiment. She has been through an ordeal, an abduction, she is in a quarantine for a gruesome infection, she is devastatingly single. Doesn’t she deserve a little physical comfort? What if she just allowed herself to touch Mulder? She might just run her palms over his head and her fingertips through his fluffy hair. What if she slipped her hands under his scrubs, slid them over his torso, enjoying the feeling of that smooth skin, that hard muscle she knows is there? Feeling her cheeks flush a little, she imagines sliding her hand under the elastic of his pants, gripping him, feeling him harden.
She finds she can’t quite picture his reaction. He would be surprised, that’s for sure. In her mind’s eye the surprise would swiftly transition to enthusiasm. He would lunge in to kiss her; his eyes would flutter shut; he would groan. His long hands would also find their way under her scrubs, and she would feel them groping over her own body.
God, she has already thought about this too much.
But she isn’t at all sure this fantasy is how he would actually react, if she were to touch him, to cross a line unexpectedly. What if he looked at her in shock? He might mumble an excuse, walk out of the room, leave her sitting there humiliated.
Even if he were tempted, even if some part of him wanted to touch her, is he really a person who could act on such feelings with his partner, with someone so intimately connected to his work? For Fox Mulder, the work is his whole heart.
No, he is not, she decides. Definitely not.
Which of course is for the best, as she’s not that kind of person either, and this is solely a thought experiment. He’s a good-looking man, but it’s a platonic relationship. A very close, very intense platonic relationship.
He notices her staring at him and looks down at his shirt self-consciously. “What? Did I spill breakfast?”
She wills herself not to blush further or react in any way. “No.”
Thanksgiving dinner in the quarantine facility is served at exactly noon. In Maryland, three hours ahead, they won’t even have eaten yet. She knows her mom probably has a little while to go on the turkey. There are probably appetizers out by now, though. She wonders if her mom made the baked Brie she likes so much.
Mulder and Scully eat at the tiny table from the mess, which they drag into Scully’s room because they can’t stand eating in the depressing little clinic room. It barely fits at the foot of her bed, but they make it work.
Mulder has drawn a little lackluster pencil drawing of a turkey on a folded piece of paper, which he places at the center of the table. “See? A centerpiece,” he says. “Makes it more festive.”
“I had no idea you were an artist, Mulder,” she says, with a deadpan version of the enthusiasm one gives to a small child.
“Inspiration hits and I have to go where it leads, Scully.”
They grimly peel back the plastic on their trays. “I feel like I owe last year’s cranberry sauce an apology,” Mulder says sadly. “Because whatever this is, it doesn’t even deserve the name ‘cranberry.’”
Scully laughs, shakes her head. “Do you suppose we’ll continue to eat worse and worse Thanksgiving dinners every year that we’re partners, Mulder?”
“No,” he says. He’s poking his fork fearfully at the pile of mashed potatoes, but he looks up at her. “Don’t even say that. You’ll be with your family next year. No more sad sack Mulder Thanksgivings.”
His expression is one to suggest that he means it, and she feels a little pang—that he sees himself like this, that he values time spent with himself in this way.
“Maybe you could come eat at Mom’s next year,” she shrugs casually, eyeing the little side of gravy. When she looks up, he is looking at her, surprised. “If you want,” she adds. “She’d be happy to have you.”
He nods, carefully, and she suspects she knows what he is thinking. Thanksgiving dinner at her mother’s isn’t necessarily part of the Partnership. It signifies something else, a different dimension in their relationship.
“Want to say anything before we eat?” Mulder says. He gives her a crafty look. “Hey, doesn’t your mom like everyone to say what they are grateful for?”
Scully smiles, a little touched that he remembers her mentioning that. “Yes,” she says. “Did you want to do that this year, Mulder?”
He tilts his head, as if considering. “Yeah,” he says. “I’d like to do that.”
Her eyes widen. “Wow,” she says. “You’re serious?”
“I’m a contemplative guy, Scully.”
Scully shifts a little, uncertain what he could be thinking about saying. “Okay,” she says.
“You go first,” he urges, his hand reaching out towards her arm for a moment, then withdrawing.
She fiddles a little with her napkin. “All right. I’m grateful, Mulder …” She hesitates. “I’m grateful for your partnership. Always. But … especially now.”
His eyes are on her. He nods slowly, taking that in.
“I’m grateful for the opportunity to have many more years of it,” she adds softly.
“Wow, years?” he says.
“Years,” she repeats.
“Then you’re crazier than I am, Scully,” he says, but his eyes are bright.
“That’s an outrageous accusation,” Scully says. “Your turn.”
“Well,” he stops. He clears his throat. “Yeah. My turn.”
His eyes wander around the room, and they land at last on the tray in front of him. “For one, I’m very grateful for this slimy-looking turkey and this probably inedible cranberry sauce.”
She waits.
“And … I’m grateful for that depressing book you tricked me into reading,” he adds. “Although I have to admit, it’s pretty good. Maybe the guy will find happiness after all. I don’t think he will, but I guess you never know.” He clears his throat again, fidgets in his seat. A serpentine shadow falls over his face.
“Are you finished, Mulder?”
“No,” he says. He waits a moment, folds his hands, almost like he is praying. Scully finds herself holding her breath.
“I’m grateful for …” He shakes his head helplessly, biting his lip, looking at his hands. When has Mulder ever had difficulty talking? Scully thinks. When he raises his head again, his eyes are shiny and wet. She thinks her heart might burst.
“I’m just grateful that …” His breath lets out a little hitch, and she’s suddenly alarmed, because she knows she can’t sit there and watch him cry without doing something, and she doesn’t trust herself enough to know exactly what she might do.
“I’m grateful to … get another Thanksgiving dinner with you, Scully,” he says, his voice rough. “Because I thought I might not.”
She stares back at him. They say nothing for a moment.
Her hand extends and wraps around his forearm, warm and steady.
“Years more,” she says. “You get years more.”
“Years more,” he repeats.
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nancypullen · 2 years
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Christmas Eve
Those two words fill your heart, don’t they?  It’s 10 o’clock on Christmas Eve and all of the ruckus and activity has died down.  There’s nothing left to do but let Christmas come. Whether you’re nestled down with family, spending this time with friends, or separated by miles from your tribe - if you have people to love and they love you right back, Merry Christmas. That’s better than anything you’ll find under the tree.
On Friday, defeating all odds, Matt flew out of Minneapolis and Tyler picked him up in Baltimore right on time.  They spent a little brother time together and then Tyler, Jamie, Wendy (in a super hero cape), and Matt crossed the bridge and met us at (where else?) Cracker Barrel for dinner and then we brought Matt home with us.  I was nervous that none of that would happen because Thursday’s weather on both ends of his flight was a little dicey. Here in Denton we had a day and a half of rain and then temps dropped rapidly and turned things to ice, some snow, and a bitterly cold forecast that wouldn’t thaw any of it.  Luckily the state of Maryland is better prepared than Tennessee ever was for this sort of thing and the roads were clear and dry,  Christmas wasn’t ruined - hooray!  I don’t care if we get ten feet of snow, I’m a fan - but not until all of my people are safely at home. Today I prepped for tomorrow’s holiday meal, those same rich, buttery, carb-laden dishes that everyone expects to see on the table.  I wonder what they’d do if one year I changed it all?  Right now salmon and brussels sprouts sounds really good.  We could start a tradition of exploring holiday foods from around the world and pick a different country every year.  I don’t think they’d go for it.  There are too many sweet memories and comforting emotions attached to traditional family meals.  As long as I’m around I’ll be happy to put memories on the table. So that’s it. Matt and Mickey are watching some guy flick - Jack Ryan or Jack Reacher or some other impressive Jack. I’ve been pretending to watch but actually playing mahjong on my laptop.  The grandgirl has gone to bed at her house with visions of Santa dancing in her head. She’s his number one fan and really wants to visit him at the North Pole.  Tyler shared a video with me earlier and I told him that she is the magic in the season for us.  It’s so true.  She has made this Christmas absolutely sparkle.  She’ll be so excited in the morning!  She’s growing by leaps and bounds right before my eyes, and I often wish I could freeze time and keep her little forever. That wish didn’t work with my boys and it won’t work for her.  I’ll just enjoy every precious minute and hope that we can hang on to some of the magic. And now it’s time for me to go to bed and let Christmas slip in quietly while we dream.  I hope that your Christmas Eve is sweet - that your heart is filled with wonder and joy, and that your best gifts are the kind that can’t be wrapped. Merry Christmas. Stay safe, stay well, sending love - Nancy
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mill3nniumforc3 · 7 months
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2023: A Year in Review: Part 2
After breakfast, Russell and I decided to explore Ocean City since we didn't think we'd ever be back. I asked Bridgid if she wanted to come with us, but she said no. We drove towards the end of the strip and parked in a public lot to explore (we ended up going to an ATM in Dunkin to get cash for the lot). We explored the boardwalk, and bought a few souvenirs. The weather was so nice, and it was cool seeing the beaches so crowded. Once we were done exploring, we rode back up to the condo to relax and eat lunch. We ate peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and chips outside while looking at the ocean. After lunch, my parents and Bridgid left to get ready for the wedding, leaving me and Russell by ourselves. We got ourselves ready, and relaxed before heading down. My mom gave us the name of the place where we could park. Once we were parked, we went to the beach to find the wedding set-up. We sat down in the seats, where my mom, Bridgid, Fiona, and Zach joined us. Fiona became the stand-in maid of honor since Haley (Moira's high school bestie who was supposed to be the maid of honor) somehow wasn't able to make it despite KNOWING when the wedding was and having accommodations offered (including my mom offering to drive her and have her stay with them). The wedding itself was nice, despite Duncan interrupting the wedding by hopping and ribbiting like a frog, and then throwing around the flowers in the sand.
After the wedding, there was a small reception held at Seacrets Distillery. The bartender was a very heavy pourer, and I got drunk after a drink and a half. I started with the signature drink that everyone was drinking, and then had a coconut rum and pineapple juice cocktail. I went to the bathroom during the reception and nearly fell off the toilet when I went to grab the toilet paper. I asked if anyone else thought the toilet was wiggly, but everyone said no. Moira initially told me there wouldn't be food for me to eat because she "forgot" that I was a vegetarian (it's been 12 years!), but she managed to get one of the pizzas changed last minute to something I could eat. At 9pm, the reception ended. Everyone was going to head to the bar for an afterparty, but we opted out of it since we had to drive back to Georgia the next morning.
June 18th, we woke up to the smoke detector going off. My parents decided to cook breakfast since me and Russell had to get going. We had pancakes, eggs, and bacon (I didn't eat the bacon obviously). After eating, it was time to go. I said goodbye to my parents and Bridgid, but I knew I'd see them again very soon. We made one more stop to McDonald's so I could get a bagel, and we were on our way. We wanted to avoid going through Baltimore and D.C. again, so we drove on US-13 out of Maryland and into Virginia until we got to Norfolk, where we switched to US-58 until we got to I-85. We followed that all the way back home, stopping at Sheetz again for dinner. By the time we got back to the house, we were exhausted... and we found out our A/C went kaput while we were gone, so the house was hot. Ick!
We thankfully didn't have to wait long for the A/C to be replaced. It was replaced on June 20th.
On June 25th, Kathy had a freak accident. She was unloading the fulfillment center truck when she didn't realize the door wasn't latched. She commented on how windy it was outside, and then she got smacked on the back of the head by the door. I was attending another car when it happened, so I quickly finished up with the customer and ran to check on Kathy. Another customer in the lot who saw what happened worked in the medical field and helped out. I asked Kathy if she wanted water, and she said yes. I gave her a bottle of water and got the other customer's order ready. The next day, she confirmed that she had a concussion from the incident.
July
The Oscar Mayer Wienermobile was visiting UGS. I got my picture taken with it!
On July 3rd, I had another incident at work. (TW: medical, blood) I was walking in our area when I accidentally cut my leg on a protruding shelf. I thought it was just a scratch, but I was bleeding pretty heavily. I asked Imelda for help, and she called for Bert on the radio. We thankfully got the bleeding under control, and all I requested was a tetanus shot, which I got two days later. I decided to get a COVID booster too while I was at it, since we were going out of the country soon.
I was off on the Fourth of July, but we didn't do anything special. We grilled at home, but that's it.
I had a pregnancy scare. My period was very late, and if we didn't have a big trip coming up, I probably wouldn't have been as upset about it, but I was. I vented to Kathy and Anna about my concerns. Anna offered to buy me a pregnancy test, but I didn't want our coworkers to ask me questions. I ended up buying tests on my own from Walmart. I took one of them when I got home to see, and it was clearly a negative. Two hours later, my period started. Go figure!
Our biggest adventure of the year (our trip to St. Lucia) started on July 15th. We got up while it was still dark outside to catch our flight. We parked at The Parking Spot, took the shuttle to the airport, and made our way through TSA (which was surprisingly very easy!). We stopped at Concourse D to get money out of the ATM, then went to Concourse E to get breakfast before our flight (I got a chocolate croissant and campfire mocha from Caribou Coffee). It was supposed to leave at 9:30am, but ended up being pushed back to 10:45am. After eating breakfast, we walked to the gate when I saw someone pushing a u-boat with Twizzlers. I wanted to follow them, but Russell told me we had to go to the gate. We sat in the corner by the window to watch the planes while we played on our Switches. Russell went to the bathroom at one point, and stopped at the gift shop to get us drinks and gum... and he also bought me Twizzlers. When it was getting close to boarding time, I went to the bathroom since I didn't want to go on the plane (it was a 4.5 hour flight to St. Lucia from Atlanta). We got on the plane and took our seats, only for us to be delayed because one of the overhead compartments in first class wouldn't stay closed. At 11:15am, we finally took off. I put on my headphones and watched some movies, which made the flight go by rather quickly. I drank all of my water bottle plus water offered on the plane, so I inevitably had to go to the bathroom on the plane. I was nervous because I was afraid we'd go through turbulence and I'd get locked in the bathroom (Russell told me that wouldn't have happened). After I was done, I walked back to my seat. We landed at UVF around 4pm, and as soon as we made it through customs, we were greeted by Sandals workers. We went to the Sandals Lounge area, where I went to the bathroom again (all that water I drank didn't help) and had my first of many drinks on vacation. We got into a van that took us to the resort. It was estimated to be an hour long drive, but it ended up being closer to two hours because of a car accident (lots of shitty drivers everywhere, I guess). When we finally got to our resort, we were greeted by workers in song. Since we arrived so late, we couldn't have our tour. The workers brought our luggage up for us while we got checked in. When we got in our room, we freshened up before heading for dinner, but not before taking in the view. We could see the pool and the ocean. We went to The Cricketer's Pub, where I had Fish and Chips (which came with mushy peas. I hate peas, so I gave them to Russell) and bread pudding, which was topped with rum raisin ice cream. I ate around the raisins because I don't like raisins.
We woke up around 8:30am on July 16th, excited for our first full-day of vacation. We got breakfast at the Pavilion, which was set up buffet-style. I had smoked salmon (which was served cold for some reason?), banana bread, a banana (the first of many I'd eat. St. Lucia has the best bananas!), and mandarin oranges. After breakfast, we went to get our tour with the Club Sandals Members Services. Two other couples were going on the tour with us, and we were led by Sameera. She showed us the jewelry store, the spa, amphitheater, restaurants, and other amenities were. After the tour, Russell and I changed into bathing suits to check out the pool and swim-up bar. After a while, Russell went to get us pizzas from Bella Napoli (I just wanted cheese). I was a little skeptical, but the pizza was actually fantastic. I happily ate the whole thing, and Russell also got us a chocolate banana pizza for dessert. After being in the pool for a while longer, we went back to our room to shower and dress for dinner. We went to Neptunes, where I had Calamari Fritti, Linguine alle Vongole, and Baklava. After dinner, we went to an event being hosted called The (Not-So) Newlywed Game. Russell said we should volunteer for it, but I felt kinda awkward about it since we aren't married. It was funny to watch though.
July 17th: we got up decently early again, and decided to make it a complete pool day. We got up for breakfast, where we went to the Pavilion again for a breakfast buffet. I had noticed there was an omelet bar, so I chose to take advantage of it. After we finished our breakfast, we got changed into bathing suits and went to the pool. The staff hosted fun activities in the pool, from trivia to pool volleyball. There was of course plenty of drinks to be had, and I found my favorite to be DB (which was a Dirty Banana haha). A friend we made in the pool told us to try out the Bob Marley, which wasn't bad, except I don't like strawberry daiquiri. After a while, we decided to get ready for dinner. We went to Pitons, where I had St. Lucian Accra, Pan Seared Snapper, and Soufrière Chocolate Cake. After dinner, we went to the pool to watch a group that danced with fire (and ate it!). They also did limbo under fire poles, and after their set, they invited guests to limbo under an unlit pole.
July 18th: we slept in a bit that day, and we chose to make today a beach day. We ordered in breakfast, but it wasn't as good as it was in the buffet. After we finished eating, we dressed in bathing suits and went to the beach. We found that every cabana was taken since we slept in, so we left our stuff by the pool and went into the ocean. I got a little nervous when we went a little ways away from the shore, but we got to lay down on rafts that were on the buoys. It was actually very relaxing. After a while, we decided to head back to the pool so we could reapply sunscreen and see if anything cool was going on. We kept an eye on the time since we had dinner reservations and wanted to have time to shower and get dressed. We made it to our reservation at La Toc, where I had Tartare de Thon, Roulade Végétalienne, and Opéra Pavé. After dinner, we decided to just chill in the room.
July 19th: since we were so disappointed in the room service breakfast, we went to the Pavilion for breakfast. After we finished, we chose to stay in the room for a bit and figure out what we wanted to do. After we ate lunch, we chose to just go to the pool for a little while. We put on sunscreen before going on down, and got some drinks. I saw they were doing a tie-dye event, and they were selling them for $20 each (which honestly isn't a bad price!). We got our t-shirts made, and they said we could pick them up in the gift shop later. I diligently put my sunscreen back on after 80 minutes, but as I came to find, it just wasn't enough. We went to get dressed for dinner, and my back was completely red. It hurt so bad, but I sucked it up. We got dinner at Armando's, which required us to take the shuttle since it was up a hill. I had Parmigiana di Melanzane, Rigatoni Bolognese Vegani, and Tiramisu. After dinner, Russell rubbed my back with some aloe we brought.
Part 3 up now. Fucking character limit...
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canarypoint · 3 years
Text
Highways and Heart Eyes
A/N: hi it’s been a while...(?) unrelated but the brie larson thing that’s going around is stuck in my head because it’s like 60% of my fyp on tiktok rn. this is inspired/based on a story my mom told me last week lmao
A/N #2 (edit): so i’m an idiot and i forgot to give it a title but if anyone noticed that before i edited it, no you didn’t.
Pairing(s): Natasha Romanoff x Reader
Warning(s): none? my really bad attempts at writing flirting?
Steve can say with one-hundred percent certainty that I-95 is simultaneously one of the greatest and worst things built in his time in the ice. The potholes are concerning enough, add to it the barely-bright-enough street lights and the exhausted, largely untrustworthy drivers racing their way home at almost midnight?
He almost prefers fighting Nazis or the Chitauri.
The drive itself has been boring thus far, but he thinks it might be taking a weird turn when he finds a car sitting on the side of the highway, its driver leaning against the hood flailing their unoccupied arm around while the other holds something up to the side of their face.
Steve puts his blinker on, pulling his Stark-issued (as Tony loves to call it) car up to the parked vehicle.
“Everything alright?” he asks, wincing when the person flinches at his voice. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”
“I’m fine, just waiting for a friend,” the person answers automatically. They slide their phone into their pocket with a sigh, finally turning to Steve. “Oh my god, you’re Captain America.”
“Please, Steve is fine,” he answers with a soft laugh, trailing off in a silent question.
“Y/N,” they offer in return, their hands fidgeting.
“Nice to meet you, Y/N. Are you sure there’s nothing I can do to help?” he asks one more time; something tells him their earlier remark was a way to ward off creeps, not an actual response to his question.
Y/N looks at the passing traffic for a moment, their eyes squinting in contemplation. “Yeah, actually,” they say through a sigh. “My car’s out of gas and my phone just died…”
“Ah, I see. Let me call a friend of mine and we’ll have you back on the road in no time,” he offers with a smile, already slipping his phone out of his own pocket.
“Thanks, Captain,” they say with a mischievous smile as Steve laughs again.
“Steve,” he jokingly reprimands as he dials the first name he sees on speed dial. “Hey, Nat, I need a favor…”
•••
Steven Grant Rogers is an idiot. A brilliant soldier, a great man, an amazing friend, a fantastic leader (usually), but he is still an idiot out of work and off the field.
He called Natasha at eleven-forty-three at night to ask her to drive all the way to the outskirts of Cecil County, Maryland from New York City, just so she could sit with a complete stranger while he drives to the nearest gas station (it’s forty minutes away, because of course there’s major traffic tonight). If she’d known he just needed to refill someone’s tank, she would’ve stopped and gotten it on the way over.
Though, the person in not-so-perilous peril is pretty cute.
“I’m so sorry,” you ramble for the millionth time. Natasha just smiles and waves you off.
“It’s fine, I promise.” She means it, just as much as the first time she said it. It’s the thirty-seventh, not that she’s counting.
“Yeah, but, you’re an Avenger and like- you probably need as much sleep as you can get and now you’re wasting your night basically babysitting me and-”
“Hey, hey, breathe. I promise this isn’t a waste of my time. It’s not every day I get to spend time with a beautiful person,” Natasha interrupts. Honestly, how you manage to say so much in so little time is baffling.
You look down, and she can just barely make out the small smile on your face. You don’t say anything after that, and Natasha finds your suddenly-flustered state adorable.
“So,” she says. Why not start a conversation? Best way to figure out if you’re secretly a threat or not, it is her job after all. Not because in the fifteen minutes she’s known you, you’ve given her a sense of peace she’s never experienced before, she tells herself. “What were you doing out so late?”
“Oh, I was visiting a friend for the weekend, I’m on my way back to New York now,” you answer. It’s interesting how easily you’ve let your guard down around her.
Natasha hums, nodding her head as you continue to ramble about your trip. She finds herself smiling the more you talk, and eventually she asks you how you and your friend met.
“We met at NYU, she was my girlfriend’s roommate our first two years. Then we broke up and she became my roommate.”
Natasha’s eyebrow raises at the first ‘girlfriend,’ but she frowns when your smile falters. “I’m sorry.”
“Oh, no, it’s fine. It was what, four years ago?” you answer, your smile already back. “I think she’s on the west coast now, probably living out her dream as some old, rich, white guy’s newest plaything.”
Natasha can’t help but laugh, you sound so optimistic and innocent and yet the insult is anything but.
“And what about you? Living out your dream in the Big Apple?” Natasha asks.
You sigh almost dreamily, “Yeah, I work at a boxing club for kids in Queens. We teach them self-defense and give them a place to stay if they need it. Spider-Man actually stopped by a few weeks ago, said he was ‘in the neighborhood.’”
“That’s amazing,” Natasha says honestly.
“It was, he let some of the older kids try out his web shooters.” The redhead holds back a laugh at your obliviousness.
“I meant your job,” she corrects gently.
“Oh,” you laugh. “Yeah, I’m just trying to do my part to help people,” you reply softly. “I didn’t have a lot growing up, and my parents were never really around. I don’t want what happened to me to happen to them, too.”
“You are… something else, Y/N…” she trails off, hoping you catch on.
“Y/L/N,” you supply.
“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N Y/L/N.”
“You too, Natasha Romanoff.” The two of you laugh as Steve’s car finally approaches.
•••
Three days go by and you can’t get your conversation with the Black Widow out of your head. Looking back, you realize she was definitely flirting with you, and you were just too exhausted and oblivious to notice. It’s embarrassing to say the least, but you doubt she even remembers. It was probably just her way of filling the silence.
You internally sigh, refocusing on your surroundings.
“Jab,” you instruct, holding your target pads-clad hands up. Henry, one of the newer kids at the gym, throws his left arm forward, his feet sliding as his glove makes contact with yours. “Stand your ground, plant both feet down firmly.”
The kid corrects his stance, smiling when you nod your head in approval.
“Jab, again.” He hits the target, and you smile again when he doesn’t slip. “Nice job, buddy. Take five. And get some water!” you yell after him as he runs to the bench.
You take your gloves off as the front door’s bells chime, turning to greet the guest. “Hey, welcome, I’ll be right… with you…” you trail off as you make eye contact with a certain redhead.
“You wouldn’t happen to know a Y/N Y/L/N, would you?” she asks playfully. She leans on the front counter as you jog your way over.
“Maybe, anything they might be able to help you with?”
Natasha watches as a kid walks up to you, asking for help with her boxing wraps. “Well,” she watches the way you simultaneously help the little girl and watch Natasha with ease. “I was told there’s this awesome place that helps kids learn how to fight, and I thought I’d stop by and show ‘em how an Avenger does it. Plus, I heard Spider-Man was here once, and I think having the Black Widow come by would be a much cooler story to tell.”
You laugh, ruffling the kid’s hair before whispering to her that she’s good before turning back to the Avenger. “I- Thank you,” you say softly. “You didn’t have to do tha-”
“No, but I wanted to. Plus, I was wondering if you wanted to get coffee after your shift?” she says as you lead her towards a locker in the back.
“You can put your stuff in here, they’re employee lockers, so no one’ll mess with them,” you tell her when she glances around the room. “And yeah, I’d like that.”
Natasha beams, and it’s immediately ingrained into your mind forever. Maybe getting stuck on a busy highway wasn’t too bad after all.
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deadsnothere · 2 years
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Hiii! Can you tell about what your monster prom/camp dr is like? I'm planning on shifting there for a while and it's so cool to see someone with the same intention!
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆ Monster P/C
Monster camp and Monster prom are very fun dr's to have, but can be very stressful sometimes and very triggering if you aren't careful with what you've scripted into them. Once that's out of the way your free to have as much fun with it as you want!
୧ ‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡ Changes?
my dr follows the plot line of both games but backwards. After a year at CHB with my adoptive father (chiron), I went to monster camp for the summer, and than spooky high for the school year after (although they are still two different dr's with different love story timelines)! I had previously gone to spooky highschool a year before meeting some new friends and having fun my freshman and sophomore year!
Something I did change was adding Zoe, Billzo, and Ranboo to monster camp! It's definitely not necessary but very fun. I also added different characters like Polly, Scott, and more who aren't in monster camp that I added just because their fun characters!
In both monster camp and prom there are a lot of triggering things that are a lot different to hear about than actually witness, Like no one want's to see what damien does daily but we're fine about laughing about it when playing the game! Now i've scripted things like "bl00d looks like water" or "kni7es look like pink baseball bats" just small things that will make it less fucked up to be in that reality! As well as things like "If commit ars0n no is hurt or d1e's" just small things that will maybe make you feel better or make you feel more comfortable in your dr!
୧ ‧₊˚ ☁️⋅ My dr!
I'm a child of Poseidon and half demon. My demon family didn't want me and of course Poseidon couldn't take care of me, So Chiron took me in! I grew up mostly in CHB, but when Chiron was able to take a break, we went to a house near Spooky high, which is about an hour away from CHB!
there was someone on my demon side who did visit often! she was my aunt and Chiron's good friend. She had a beach house in Maryland that I take my friend group down to almost every summer ever since she past.
Growing up in CHB I helped with a lot of quests. I went on the original quest with percy, annabeth, and grover. I fought in the war, I defeated Ares 1 on 1 and stole his sunglasses angering the god (Chiron was not happy about that one).
Currently I live alone in the house near Spooky high. Every new school year Chiron will come visit for the morning to send me off the school from the house with a kiss on the cheek and a good luck! Zoe, who's my best-friend in this dr, practically lives with me as well as her adoptive brother Billzo.
In school I'm head cheerleader, don't get caught skipping almost at all, and my dad is never called due to no phones in CHB, which leaves me to sign most of my own stuff. The people i hand out with mostly is Damien, Zoe, Billzo, Ranboo, and Polly. We hang out at party's, during lunch, or just when skipping.
˗ˏˋ •Ending• ˎˊ˗
Remember to make yourself comfortable in dr! That's one of the most important things. To make yourself more comfortable it'll be easier to enjoy your dr, unless you like the feeling of adrenaline like me, but genuinely please be careful! and shift safely people!
deadsnothere
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spencersweetie · 3 years
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Coincidence (Spencer x GN!Reader Onseshot)
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Category: Fluff
Summary: Spencer and Reader accidentally have a museum date when they run into each other. 
Word Count: 1.7k
Warnings: none <3
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“Y/N!” A familiar voice called your name. You turned around and faced a familiar man whom you’d met through your friend Penelope. Spencer stood smiling at you with his hands in his pockets. He energetically waved at you.
You grinned back at him. “Hey Spencer! What a crazy coincidence, us both being here at the same time.” You had spontaneously decided to visit the National Gallery of Art since you had a free day to yourself over the weekend.
“Totally!” He responded. “I’m supposed to have the whole weekend off so I thought I’d revisit the gallery. How are you?”
“I’m alright! You’re revisiting? How many times have you been here? This is my first time seeing the gallery.” You had been to other art museums in Maryland but never the National Gallery of Art since you had recently moved to D.C. a year ago.
Spencer chuckled lightly. “This would be my ninth time coming here. I saw the gallery for the first time when I was nine years old  and couldn’t keep myself away from this place.
“Wow!” You exclaimed. “I don’t blame you, I’ve only seen the sculpture garden and the first few pieces in this wing so far and everything is gorgeous; I’m in love already.”
“You know what, I’ve got the building memorized!” Spencer eagerly informed you. “If you want, I could be your personal guide and show you the best parts of each exhibit and take you on the most efficient path through the museum! I mean, you don’t have to say yes, it’s up to you.”
“Spencer, that’d be awesome, I’ll totally tag along if you’re cool with that!” You beamed at him, trying to hide your excitement. You usually went on trips like these alone so it was nice to have someone who could enjoy the same thing as you by your side.
“Great, let’s go!” Spencer turned and gestured towards the next exhibit.
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As you and Spencer explored the museum together, you noticed how abnormally comfortable you felt around him. You two had never hung out without Penelope so this was a first for you both. Even without your mutual friend, you found that Spencer was both easy to listen to and easy to talk to. He of course knew a lot about the art in the gallery and thoroughly explained each piece to you but you appreciated that he never talked to you like you were dumb or lesser than him. He regularly asked if you were okay with his infodumps as well, which you completely didn’t mind. You could tell that he undoubtedly had a passion for the arts, and you liked that he was so enthusiastic to share that with you.
While you did certainly find Spencer’s interesting facts to be intriguing, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander as you looked at him from the side. He didn’t notice your looking as he faced the painting while he talked to you, completely occupied by the piece that was on the wall in front of him. You liked the way he spoke about the art that he showed you. Spencer was very animated, clearly demonstrating his excitement about whatever he was explaining in the movement of his hands. His face was quite expressive too. His eyebrows rose and fell as he talked and his eyes squinted and widened as he conversed with you. You hadn’t noticed how pretty Spencer’s eyes were until now, how his irises were brown but with little gold specks on the inside. You liked that when he wrinkled his nose in the middle of a sentence, his scrunch reached the top of his nose bridge between his eyes. His nose was a nice nose, you thought. It enhanced his side profile and turned slightly upwards when he smiled too. And his lips. Today you noticed that his lips were quite… pink. And full. And plump. You had to catch yourself when your eyes traveled down from Spencer’s eyes to his mouth when he spoke, then hope that he didn’t notice your distraction. You just liked that way he smiled, that’s all, you told yourself. He often kept his smile as he talked and continued to smile when you spoke to him too. You liked the way his lips puckered when his smile grew bigger as he finished his sentences. It seemed like an uncontrollable habit of his-
“Y/N?” Spencer interrupted your thoughts. He looked at you with his brows slightly raised.
“Hm, yeah?” Your mind snapped back to the present moment. “I’m sorry, could you say that again?”
“Are you okay? Am I boring you? We could stop here if you want!”
“No, Spencer- it’s fine!” You jumped to explain. “You’re good, I promise! I’m not bored, I just got lost in my thoughts for a second. Um, the only da Vinci painting in the U.S. right? Is this one here?” 
“Exactly!” Spencer lit up and straightened his posture. “Da Vinci painted less than 20 oil paintings throughout his career; this one was bought for $5 million and arrived in D.C. in 1969!”
“Damn!” You exclaimed. “So that makes this portrait like, the Mona Lisa of the National Gallery, huh?”
“Absolutely!” Spencer agreed with you. “The gallery has other Da Vinci pieces displayed but none that are as rare and valuable as an oil painting of his. This one, Ginerva de’ Benci, is a portrait of a daughter of a banker, most likely commissioned when she was about 16 and just engaged. You know, the juniper bush is what’s in the background. Juniper represents chastity which was one of the most significant traits of a woman in the Renaissance era. It’s kind of a subtle little pun, including the juniper plant, because in Italian the plant is called ginepro.”
“Oh! Ginepro, Ginerva! That’s so cute, I love it!” You told him. “I like how there’s like no fancy jewelry or finery on her in this portrait too. It’s different from the Renaissance portraits of the other ladies that we saw.”
“Yeah, it’s a little bit of a surprise when it comes to a portrait like this that she isn’t completely dressed up! It doesn’t reveal her family’s wealth like portraits commonly do. I love that you noticed that.” Spencer’s lips turned at the corners in appreciation of your attention to detail. “Let’s move onto the next one!”
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You and Spencer moved on through the exhibit, then through the rest of the museum. You two enjoyed each other’s company for the day and were able to see all the art in three hours. As you exited, you found yourself laughing as you and Spencer recalled the events of the day. “I still can’t believe they kept trying to pay you for a private tour even after you insisted you weren’t a museum tour guide!” You laughed into your hand which was clapped over your mouth, trying not to draw attention to you and Spencer. 
“Shut up!” Spencer jokingly rolled his eyes at you. “I hate that they were gathered around me too, attracting a crowd while trying to hand me money. I don’t even wear a uniform like the other employees!” Spencer cracked up along with you, shaking as he pictured himself standing next to you, explaining to a group of strangers that he was just visiting with a friend, not working for the gallery.
You shrieked with laughter, uncontrollably gasping for air as you tried to calm yourself. “Then when they said they would call the gallery and get you fired for denying customers!” Tears were coming out of your eyes from being unable to stop laughing. “And you just went ‘Okay!’ and walked off without me!” You missed a step and tripped, grabbing Spencer’s arm as you fell into him.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” You were half still dying from laughing and half freaking out from your mistake. “I didn’t mean to grab you, I know you’ve got a germ thing! I think I just got a little carried away and wasn’t careful enough to watch my step!” You frantically apologized to Spencer. “Are you okay?”
Spencer grinned at you and dusted you off on your shoulders. “Relax, Y/N. I know you’re not germy; I’m not gonna freak out if you touch me. And I’m fine, you’re the one who fell!” He reassured you. “Are you okay? Do you need a second? You’re pink in the face, I don’t know if from laughing or from tripping on the step.”
“I’m fine, I’m good! Thank you Spencer.” You replied, still hot around your face. “Let’s just get out of here before I start to laugh and embarrass myself again.” You chuckled. “Are you free for the rest of the day? We could get something to eat if you’re hungry!” 
Spencer smiled at you. “Yeah, I’m free! Do you like Indian? There’s this new place that’s about 10 minutes from here-”
A loud ringing cut his sentence off. Spencer sighed and apologetically looked at you before whipping his cell phone out of his pocket. “Yeah?” He spoke into the phone.
He listened for a few seconds before speaking. “I’m in D.C. but I’ll be there as soon as possible. Thanks, Penelope.” Spencer hung up and shoved his phone back into his coat.
“Got a case?” You asked.
“Yeah. I’m so sorry, Y/N, I know we were supposed to-”
“Spence!” You stopped him. “You don’t have to apologize, we didn’t even plan on hanging out today!”
Spencer’s eyes softened; he expected you to express disappointment before anything else and was surprised that you were understanding instead. He smiled and nodded. “Okay, but we could still check out the new Indian place another time, yeah?”
You felt butterflies in your stomach emerging. “Of course. Thank you for today, Spencer. I had an amazing time.”
“Me too, Y/N. I’ll text you when we get back!” 
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Thank you for reading! Feel free to comment your thoughts or send anon feedback, anything is appreciated <33
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girlactionfigure · 3 years
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Ellen Naomi Cohen was born on September 19, 1941.
She was mocked by people who didn’t know her heart, she was teased by supposed friends. Even after her death, the cruel joke was that she choked on a ham sandwich.
All this because of her weight.
The jokes hurt her, as it does many people who are called “fat,” who are ridiculed for the way they look, but she hid her pain well, as do many.
In high school, she adopted the name “Cass,” and, some time later, she would assume the surname “Elliot” in memory of a friend who had died.
According to a 2019 article by writer, Sheila Weller, “Cass—Ellen Naomi Cohen—was a middle-class Jewish girl from Baltimore who left high school six months before graduation to go to New York and try Broadway. She lost the role of Mrs. Marmelstein in ‘I Can Get It For You Wholesale’ to a budding young Jewish singer-actress who did her share to establish the rule that you didn’t have to be classically beautiful to be a star: Barbra Streisand. Cass then got a job as a coat check girl at a Manhattan nightclub, the Bitter End, singing and trying to get random agents’ attention, as she juggled hangers and quarters as tips.”
Cass Elliot had a wonderful, soothing voice, she had a wonderful personality, a beautiful soul, but the story is that initially not even John Phillips wanted her as part of his new group, which would become the Mamas and Papas. According to insiders, Phillips thought she was too fat and didn’t fit the image of the group. It was only when the group realized that she had a beautiful voice which actually made the group better that she was allowed more opportunities to sing.
When she was finally featured, she had to make up a story that she had a terrible voice until a pipe fell on her head, which somehow made her voice better.
Even after that, Elliot’s weight continued to be a source for jokes.
In one of the Mamas and the Papas biggest hits, “Creeque Alley”, Elliot had to join the chorus, singing, “And no one’s getting fat except Mama Cass!”
After she left the group, she tried to get away from the name “Mama” Cass to no avail.
“My mother was The Little Engine That Could,” her daughter Owen Elliot-Kugell told Weller. “Weight shaming was something she dealt with all her life. She was constantly insulted and hurt by people calling or thinking her fat. But she never talked about her pain, and when she performed, she hid that pain. But I know — I could tell—that it bothered her. As a child she was teased as a fatty. Her weight was something she bore the scars of for the rest of her life, be it failed auditions for Broadway shows or lonely nights after The Mamas and The Papas’ performances at Carnegie Hall or the Hollywood Bowl, coming home alone when everyone else had a partner.”
She once said, “I’ve been fat since I was seven and being fat sets you apart.”
“For others, that might have been a handicap but Cass turned it into a strength,” according to The Guardian. “She opened the door for others like Janis Joplin and Grace Slick of Jefferson Airplane,” says DJ Annie Nightingale. “I adored her voice, you couldn’t help but like her and she helped establish a genre of independent women.”
“Cass’s impact on 60s teenagers with weight problems was significant,” said The Guardian. Nancy Roberts, founder member of the Spare Tyre Theatre Company, a group inspired by Susie Orbach’s Fat is a Feminist Issue, explains: “She was this wonderful sexy role model and inspiration who made it less of an incriminating burden to be fat.”
“Aside from breaking the weight-shaming stigma and rising as an improbable female icon, Cass was other things young women weren’t allowed to be then but can be now — a proud single-mother-by-choice and a working mother who supported her child alone,” according to Weller.
“At 25, Cass knew she wanted to be a solo mother — a bold choice at the time, even in bohemian circles,” according to NexTribe.
“She wanted me more than anything else in the world — she told people that,” her daughter said.
But, even with all her personal and musical triumphs and outwardly confidence, Elliot constantly felt the brunt of the fat jokes and the pressure to be slim.
“She said she’d never go on stage because Michelle was beautiful and she wasn’t,” says John Phillips, one of the Papas. She was persuaded to change her mind but no one stopped her trying dangerous diets.
Elliot tried desperately to lose weight, once going on a six-month long crash diet, losing 100 of her 300 pounds. This would lead to a stomach ulcer and throat problems, which was treated by drinking milk and cream, leading her to regain much of her weight back.
At age 32, Elliot would die in her sleep. Immediately, there were rumors that she either died because of drugs or that she died while eating a ham sandwich.
Frank Zappa would even reference the sandwich in his song, “We’re Turning Again” with the lyrics, “We can visit Big Mama, we can whap her on the back, while she eats her sandwich!”
As recent as 2007, even Snopes had to post an entry and dispute the ham sandwich myth of her death.
Owen Elliot was seven when her mother died. “It’s been hard for my family with the sandwich rumour,” she says. “One last slap against the fat lady. People seem to think it’s funny. What’s so darn funny?”
According to reports, there was no evidence to support the choking theory. The official autopsy revealed she had little to eat during her final hours. “There was left-sided heart failure,” wrote pathologist Keith Simpson. “She had a heart attack which developed rapidly.”
Heart failure.
Cass Elliot not only had a beautiful voice, but she also had a beautiful heart which few people got to see.
Anthony Kiedis of Red Hot Chili Peppers cited The Mamas & the Papas, and especially Elliot, as an influence, in an interview for Rolling Stone, saying, “There have been times when I’ve been very down and out in my life, and the sound of her voice has sort of given me a reason to want to carry on.”
“She was a one-woman triumph against adversity; she was ahead of her time; women now are finally doing what she did 50 years ago,” says her daughter. “I look back on her and realize that, just by example, she taught me, and others, not to accept it when someone says you can’t do something.”
“I’m proud to be my mother’s daughter,” says Owen. “When I’m having a tough day, for whatever reason, I think of all the ‘you can’t be this; you can’t do thats’ that my mother heard but ignored or conquered. She was a hero to me.”
youtube
The Jon S. Randal Peace Page
Ellen Naomi Cohen was born in Baltimore, Maryland, on September 19, 1941, the daughter of Bess (née Levine; 1915–1994) and Philip Cohen (died 1962) All four of her grandparents were Russian Jewish immigrants.
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bomberqueen17 · 3 years
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it’s not art but idk what it is
well. i’ve been awake since 3am, so we’ll really see how today goes.
The family holidays situation hasn’t entirely been resolved. It’s possible I have not communicated that well after all? I verified through my collection of online photos that we last were together for Christmas in an even-numbered year in 2012 (Farmkid did not yet exist), so my assertion that it’s going on for a decade that we’ve had the current pattern is not unfounded. But my older sister isn’t entirely nuts for having failed to notice that was the pattern; I know i’ve *said* many times that I’m on an every other year schedule, but it is perfectly likely, in a family this size, that my sister has never actually heard me say it, or noticed when I did, and so it’s not wildly insane that she hadn’t realized that it wasn’t coincidental. 
(I spent 2013 without family, in Rochester with BFF. I spent 2014 with Dude’s mom. 2015 we all got together at the farm. 2016, Dude’s mom. 2017, we all got together in Maryland. 2018, Dude’s mom. (I believe Middle-Little joined me, either in 2014 or 2016, because Mom and Dad went down to Older Sister’s without her one year, and I think OS lived in Georgia still at that point. Don’t recall when the move to Maryland happened.) 2019, I spent at the farm, and Older Sister did not join us and I do not recall the details. 2020, nobody saw anybody (except I did see Dude’s mom), and Dad died and it was the fucking worst.)
So anyway. For Older Sister’s MIL, there’s the stats-- whatever else they’ve done, Older Sister has spent less than 50% of the last 10 Christmases with her family. Which was what OS was remembering; she felt she’d offered her MIL at least half of the opportunities, and if she hasn’t spent that many holidays with them it is because she refused for one reason or another, and so it’s really not fair to count those against the total. (MIL is wildly jealous because she moved closer to them to see them more, and then my father died suddenly and they’ve come up to visit Mom three times in a year. I can see her wanting to make sure she gets a chance with them but come the fuck <i>on</i>.)
Anyway, Older Sister called to apologize for springing the change on me, but explained that the travel’s not going to work out, and I said well i can do Christmas on New Year’s at your place if you’d rather, OR I can do Christmas on Christmas at FS’s and not see you, so that still hasn’t been resolved. (If everyone else is also coming for New Year’s I’ll do that one, i’d rather see everyone.)
I’ve had several lovely bits of advice to forget everyone else and do what makes me happy, and while I do appreciate this and totally get where it’s coming from, I should specify here that my family is the main source of joy in my life, and for my entire life the highlight of every year has been whatever time i’ve been able to spend with as many of my siblings as possible, at the holidays or whenever. So unfortunately forgetting everyone else and doing what makes me happy are mutually one hundred percent exclusive. I completely understand why that’s not the case for everyone, nor should it be. But I very earnestly want to see as many of my siblings and niblings as possible this end-of-year, however, whenever, and wherever that happens.
Anyway. I feel super gross today but I did get a lot of unrelenting cat snuggles in my insomnia, which I appreciate. i did not make any art but I worked a little bit on several projects, and made two scraps of flannel into makeup-removing washcloths, and yesterday I folded some fabric and marked where I’m going ot cut it but did not cut it, and. Maybe I can make myself do something this weekend, maybe I’ll actually like. Make some art and feel alive.
I should mention too that writing doesn’t seem to count, that’s been going just fine and is satisfyingly progressing, it just doesn’t seem to scratch the Make Something itch, so. Anyway at least I have that, I’ll be grateful for it. 
OH AND. Mom took Farmkid up to Grandpa’s grave for Veteran’s Day and HE HAS A STONE NOW!! It’s lovely, a regulation stone, has his service record on it (Vietnam and Persian Gulf), mentions his Bronze Star (for valor, in Vietnam), and for some reason they wouldn’t let mom put an ampersand in his epitaph, which was supposed to say loving & loved but instead reads in its entirety A GOOD MAN LOVING LOVED
which like i guess gets the point across but we’re gonna go up and Sharpie a comma in there at least.
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altarflame · 2 years
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Hi.
I’m 40. I like it that my hair is too long to fit in this picture.
I went to a new patient’s home for an initial assessment today, and to two established patients for routine visits. I had a med student shadowing me, which happens about twice a month. We laughed together between visits, about what constitutes the wild spectrum of one of my work days.
I went to Jake’s high school open house, this evening, with Grant, who I peacefully coparent with - though we’ve been separated for years. Jake is in 10th grade and he’s doing great. The librarian approached us in the courtyard to tell us he’s his favorite.
In between the appts and the open house, full of love and fresh from ooey gooey voice files in the car, I went to a florist for “something unusual” that I could surprise Sterling with at work. I didn’t really have money to spend so I was really happy to have chosen to go in this little independent place where the owner was breaking down arrangements from a wedding. We talked for half an hour and she gave me tons of free flowers. Jake took a bouquet of roses for his girlfriend, that she’s already posted on Instagram. I took Sterling a single massive Magna mum.
One month ago, my local friend Clarence (40) died suddenly of a brain aneurysm on the same day that my nephew Wolfgang lost a good local friend of his, to suicide. Wolfgang talks to me basically every day from Louisiana (he’s 23), and he went to the friend’s blood splattered apartment to collect treasured items. I’ve been worried about him. I was in the ICU with Clarence as he died, primarily for the benefit of Clarence’s girlfriend, who I’m a somewhat closer friend to. I organized a meal train for her, and attended his lovely funeral in the woods, featuring natural burial. Wolfgang was at his friend’s funeral at the same time, and we texted a little after our respective funerals. I sent him a gift via Etsy, and have weekly packages planned for him for the coming months.
Sterling and I went, just after these funerals, to my very good friend Kristin’s house in Maryland, and stayed for a few days - partially to take all we wanted of her sister’s things, as her sister died of breast cancer in February. We loaded up our rental car with art, books, plants, shoes that fit Elise. Kristin is doing really well now but cared for Keegan at her home through the end and it was heavy.
Two Fridays ago, after Sterling and I got back from Maryland, my Nana died in the morning (very expected), and Grant’s sister Mindy died in the evening (total surprise, though she did lots of hard living over the years). My Nana was my only remaining reason to communicate with my very complicated mother. Mindy is Wolfgang’s (and my nephew Robby, and their sister Patrice’s) estranged mom. The 3 of them were all raised mostly by my wonderful mother in law Teresa, in a similar way to how Nana picked up the slack with me and my sister when we were kids.
I made the difficult decision to skip my Nana’s funeral, since she is the only person I’d have been doing it for and she wasn’t exactly gonna be there - I went to Mindy’s funeral, to support Teresa (who switched, after grant and I split, to calling me her “daughter in love,” and who tried to do CPR for 12 minutes after finding Mindy slumped over in the living room…) and also my niece and nephews. It was in a rowdy little church, with many dramatic moments that made for wild post-event conversations.
Incidentally if you know who these people are - Patrice is a CNA in nursing school, engaged to a wonderful guy she’s been with for 3 years, and is happy to be 20 weeks pregnant. I’m gonna be a great aunt! And I think she’s going to be a really good mom.
Sterling, Ananda, Elise and I took Robby (26) and his boyfriend Nick, and Wolfgang, to the beach after Mindy’s funeral. And we ate on the sand, and got tossed around in the waves, and talked about complicated grief and lack of grief and the monstrosity of not being sure you’re even upset to have lost someone.
So. I have an enormous amount to be hugely thankful for. And shit is so much, guys. So fucking much. My own mother “stuff” is very stirred up - I devoured Jennette McCurdy’s “I’m Glad My Mom Died” Saturday night, in its entirety.
I have an apothecary to launch and multiple books to finish writing, when I’m not up to my armpits in mortality and processing… assuming that’s ever going to be the case again. I have a quilt to finish assembling and it’s taking up half the dining room for weeks now.
Two very good things are - Sandman on Netflix. And, I bought a used, frankenstein’d together antique cruiser bike that I love riding. Partially because taking care of one’s self SEEMS TO REALLY BE OF THE ESSENCE, of late.
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lavsnz · 3 years
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I was wanting to anon ask from the Sickfic prompt Materlist yesterday but I didn't realize anon ask was off and I wasn't 100% comfortable doing it without anon since I'm not actually an official snz blog but now anon is on!! :D Sorry
9 + 31 or 74 from the SicFic Masterlist plzzz!!
Sneezes & Hot Cocoa
ahh! hello anon, thank you for this request!! i promise you the prompts ARE in here, you just have to read a bit to get to them (i hope that’s okay!!) if you’re comfortable messaging me privately i’d love to hear what you think but don’t feel pressured to!! here’s a first look at sick paisley, these prompts are from this list & im using these ocs. enjoy! (also i’m sorry it’s a little long, i couldn’t stop writing)
Even though they had only spent a few weeks apart, Rowan was so relieved to be with Paisley again. She had been hopeful that both of their parents would agree to let Rowan come visit the week of New Year’s Eve, but getting the “go ahead” caused both girls to nearly cry from joy. Only a few weeks away from the other, and Rowan could barely stand it; she knew she was fucked from the start, but didn’t know how fucked she truly was.
Rowan couldn’t keep the smile off her face as she got ready alongside Paisley to head to Paisley’s favorite coffee shop in town. Paisley had sworn up and down that this place had the best hot chocolate, and being someone who considered herself a hot chocolate connoisseur, Rowan was excited to put the drink to the test. The girls sang somewhat obnoxiously in the car, laughing the entire time. Rowan couldn’t help but notice Paisley’s occasional little shivers as she drove, a frown making its way to her face every time she saw one.
“Pais, you okay?” Rowan asked.
“Yeah, of course,” Paisley said with a smile. “I’ve got my love here, why wouldn’t I be okay?” she responded.
“You seem to be shivering a bit, are you feeling alright?”
“Ro, I’m perfectly fine, I promise. I don’t feel like I’m shivering at all, I had no idea I was doing it,” Paisley answered, turning her head to Rowan to flash her a bright smile.
Rowan flashed one back. “Alright, if you say so.”
The girls went back to singing until Paisley was done parking and they were getting out of the car. “You ready to have the best hot chocolate of your life?” Paisley asks, a smirk on her face as they walk into the coffee shop.
“I am, and I’m holding ya to that,” Rowan says with a laugh. Paisley rolls are eyes affectionately as they walk up to the counter to order. Paisley orders herself a strawberry and sprinkles hot chocolate, and after a few minutes of debating Rowan orders the salted caramel hot chocolate. Once they’ve grabbed their drinks, Paisley leads them to what she refers to as “her favorite booth”. They talk as they let their drinks cool, Rowan explaining how she’s going to miss her Intro to Creative Writing professor dearly, and plans to go to his office hours next semester just to see him.
“Soooo,” Paisley starts after Rowan takes her first sip, “Is it the best hot chocolate you’ve ever had?” Paisley finishes with a smile.
“No. It’s horrible.” Rowan deadpans.
The look of offense on Paisley’s face has Rowan bursting out into laughter. “Kidding, kidding. It’s really really good. You’re right love, I was just messin’ with ya,” Rowan reassures with a smile.
Paisley's about to respond when a hah-aaAAA-AAACHUUIEW is let out instead.
“Bless you!” Rowan replies with a small laugh, bringing Paisley’s hand to her lips so she can press a small kiss to it. Paisley’s got a much bigger sneeze than most would expect and sometimes her sneezes still surprise Rowan.
“Thank you,” Paisley says with a sniffle.
Rowan watches Paisley take a pink checkered handkerchief out of her purse to clean up her nose. Rowan frowns, Paisley only brings a handkerchief somewhere for herself if she’s sick or if it’s allergy season. With it being December twenty-eighth in Maryland, Rowan knows it’s not the latter. Rowan lets it go for now, but keeps it in the back of her mind.
They go back to talking, telling stories of funny conversations they were a part in or overheard at family holiday parties.
“When I tell you I almost s-sla-aAACHUUO, haHA-AAITSHIEW slapped him, snfsnff I wasn’t lying,” Paisley finishes, cleaning up her nose and giving it some soft blows.
“Goodness Pais, bless you dar- oh, again?” Rowan asks as Paisley brings the handkerchief up to her nose, her breath frantically hitching.
Paisley nods quickly before sneezing out a smaller AA-aitSHOO and sighing.
“You’ve sneezed four times. That's not like you,” Rowan says. It’s not a question, it’s a statement.
Rowan begins putting on her coat when Paisley interrupts. “What are you doing?” she asks, tilting her head in confusion as Rowan gets out of the booth and walks over to Paisley’s side.
“Getting up so we can go home. You’re sick, love,” Rowan says. Paisley makes a sound of protest, but accepts Rowan’s hand to help her get up. Rowan pulls Paisley in for a tight hug.
“You’re trembling. Oh babe, you poor thing. Give me the keys, I’ll drive. You rest until we get you up in bed, okay?” Rowan feels Paisley nod against her and that’s all she needs for an answer before she takes Paisley’s hand in hers and leads them to the door.
The car ride is short and the girls head straight up to Paisley’s room once they’re home. Rowan goes to grab some medicine from Paisley’s bathroom and comes back to find Paisley sitting up in bed, wearing one of Rowan’s sweatshirts and a pair of her sweatpants. Rowan passes her the cap of cold medicine and lays down on her side. After taking the medicine Paisley follows suit, laying down on her side facing Rowan.
Rowan chuckles at the way her sweatshirt is swallowing Paisley and pulls her close, planting a kiss in her girlfriend’s hair.
“Clothes a little big on ya, huh love?” Rowan says, earning a little noise from Paisley.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were getting sick? I’m not mad, I just wanna know,” Rowan says with a slight frown. Her heart hurts that Paisley was trying to push herself rather than rest.
“You just got here last night, and I’ve been telling you all the fun things we’d do and I was so excited to show you around town. I didn’t want to make you waste your time here by just being in bed, it’s not what you came here for.”
Before Rowan can respond, Paisley lets out a small aitshoo into Rowan’s shoulder.
“Bless you, bug. You know I don’t mind taking care of you, right? I’d much rather stay in bed all eight days than have you get sicker by pushing yourself.”
Paisley softly hums a response as she slowly starts drifting off into sleep. Rowan spends the rest of her afternoon looking after her girl, carding fingers through Paisley’s short hair, rubbing up and down her back, and whispering sweet nothings to Paisley as she falls asleep. Rowan knows her night will look very similar but doesn’t mind it one bit, having Paisley in her arms is more than enough.
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regalityandcoffee · 2 years
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Will and Jade headcanons/timeline Part 6 (it never ends does it)
While Jades getting an MRI, Adam shares that the Prescotts had tried to visit Jade, but he and Will turned them around. Adam, Mia and Andy are all on edge, debating whether or not they should tell Jade
Jade comes back and is confused, the atmosphere feels...weird.
Adam sits in the recliner. Legs crossed, looking at the women's championship in his hands.
He looks like he's thinking too much.
Jades too tired and also just... doesn't know how to snap him out if it so she flips on the tv and they watch Ducktales with her
Until finally Andy speaks up and tells her about the incident.
Jade, doesn't handle it well. There's a lot of cussing.
They decide to all inform the desk that if they return to call security, they're not sure how well it will help because a "friend" of their mom works there and could sneak there parents in, but even if they did Jade could still use the call button on her bed for help.
Reluctantly they leave after visiting hours, telling her to call if anything happens.
Nothing does, but she still doesn't sleep well that night.
Neither does William, who was worried about the same thing. He had no idea why Jade's parents were bad, all he knew was that that they were. He wakes up the same time as before, this time less sleepy, and arrives at the same time as her friends and brother.
Jade's wide awake and assures nothing happened. He's concerned, she looks like she's barely slept and keeps drifting off a bit.
He wants to leave and tell her to get some rest when a doctor comes in with test and mri and...stuff results
He's about to step out cause he feels it's not his business to hear (until she has to confirm she can't come back to work for a bit) but Jade asks him to stay.
He looks over and sees Mia looking suprised.
Alright then.
"I'm sorry to inform you, Miss Prescott, but we don't recommend you go back to work until at least a couple of months. You have a bruised ribcage, a sprained wrist, and a concussion. We're also detecting you may need treatment for your low iron levels/anemia..."
The room's quite after the doc hands Jade a copy of her diagnosis and leaves the room. Too quite.
Will's the first to speak up, nervous as he is he leans and puts a hand on her shoulder while she looks down at the papers. "Miss Prescott, I'm very sorry this has happened..."
No, no no no no no. There's something about that voice of his, completely drenched in pity that makes her eyes sting with tears. She fights them back as best she can.
"It's fine."
That's over two months she'd miss of work, of her favorite place in the world. All because of a stupid fued. All because she had to go and fight Shayna.
"I gotta relinquish the title now, right?"
He pauses, nodding solemnly. "I'm afraid so dear."
"That's okay. Never wanted it anyway."
"Miss, we can wait for your release for you to formally relinquish it on this or next week's show, or maybe a video call-"
"It's not that big of a deal."
"It's a tremendous deal, dear, I-"
Cut it out! Don't you dare pity me, please, not you too... Is all Jade can think before finally spitting something out
"Mr. Regal-" Jade finds herself interrupting him for the first time. Her voice is shakier than she'd like it to be. "It's just a title. It's-it's just a stupid belt..."
The words suprise him, but he's far more concerned with how her voice is faltering, how her hands are slowly crinkling the packet in her hands. It's not right, nor did it feel fair.
Adam speaks up scooting his chair forward and rubbed her back. Jade flinched a bit and he pulls his hand away. "Doll, this is a big thing. I'm real sorry you have to miss work, I know you love that place. But we're gonna help you get better so you can go back, right Miss Mia, right Andy?"
Mia nods. Andy agrees, though he has to drive back to Maryland in a couple days.
"I know..."
A couple months, maybe even longer, away from NXT...
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