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goldenraeofsun · 4 years ago

Text

4:01 PM

Dean sips his whiskey and glowers across the bar at his own reflection. His wrist is burning like a brand, but it’s probably all in his head. The stupid timers don’t cause physical pain when they reach T-minus zero, Houston we have a problem. The numbers freeze, and that’s that.

Dean’s had counted down to nothing at exactly 4:01 PM, fifteen minutes ago. Fifteen minutes of running into his soulmate, getting his number, continuing on his way to this bar, and telling the bartender to keep ‘em coming.

He refuses to look at the far corner of the room, the booth he had reserved like an idiot. Four PM, party of two, under the name Winchester.

On the bar by his glass, his phone is still lit up with Cas’s texts from the past hour.

Cas 3:11 I’m so sorry I have to move our appointment. My client just unexpectedly switched our time to 4pm.

Cas 3:21 I think I’ll be able to escape by 4:30. Can I meet you then?

Dean had responded with a thumbs-up emoji. He didn’t have it in him to say any more.

Cas 3:50 This city is impossible to navigate. How does anyone live here?

Cas 3:58 You were right, I should have rented a car.

Three minutes after Cas’s last text, Dean ran into his soulmate. Right on schedule.

As far as first meetings go, it hadn’t been as much of a shitshow as Dean had expected.

The dude was attractive, at least, and the first thing he did after bumping into Dean was apologize. But he was wearing a tailored suit and glued to his phone, so it definitely could have been better.

His soulmate would’ve run off none the wiser, except Dean had to blurt, “Wait!” because, despite his disappointment, Dean couldn’t let his soulmate disappear into the throngs of Michigan Avenue. Dean wasn't about to fall to one knee, but he also couldn't let his best shot just go.

The man stopped, irritated. His gaze refused to linger on Dean, instead fixating on a building at the end of the block.

Head swimming with too many thoughts to name, Dean couldn’t get the right words out. He gestured mutely to his wrist, pulling up the flannel to show him.

Eyes widening with understanding, his soulmate quickly tugged up the cuff of his sleeve, only sparing a second to verify his own timer stopped. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even notice.” he said, distracted. “My name is James. Here,” he fished out a pen and something to write on from various pockets of his trench coat, “my number. We… should talk. Later.” He scowled, raising his other wrist to check at his watch. “I need to go.”

“Sure, man,” Dean said, mostly grateful he didn’t have to stick around and have some heart-to-heart with a stranger that was apparently meant for him. Whatever the fuck that actually meant.

“Thank you,” James said swiftly. Without another word, he took off back down the street.

Dean didn’t bother to watch him go. He had a barstool waiting with his name on it.

Sam will laugh himself silly once Dean tells him his perfect match wound up being some corporate suit. Dean once told him he’d rather microwave his own head than set foot in an office cubicle.

Sammy was the big soulmate skeptic in the family. He found his non-timer approved other half while he was protesting an illegal dismissal of a disabled employee. Three years later, when Sam bumped into Gabriel Crawford in a strip club at midnight on Dean’s birthday, he discovered Gabe was perfectly happy to let Sam live his apple pie life while Gabe continued to party like it was 1999.

Gabe made Sam promise to look him up if Eileen was ever down for a threesome.

Turned out, Eileen was.

Sam most certainly was not.

He still sends Gabe a card for the holidays, and usually Gabe sends him back candy samples from wherever he’s vacationing for the winter.

But everyone else Dean knew bought into the soulmates game, hook, line, and sinker. His parents were soulmates. Benny and Garth both settled down with theirs. Charlie and Aaron were holding out for theirs. Hell, even Jo had her weird thing with Bela Talbot.

Dean would’ve counted himself among their number - until he met Cas.

Well, until Cas messaged him on Bobby’s new ask-a-mechanic feature on the garage’s website. Cas had inherited a banged up 1967 Mustang and had no idea where to start with restoration. Apparently Gabe of all people was staying with Cas at his place in southern California, and he recommended Dean.

Why Cas couldn’t just look up a local place still baffles Dean to this day, but he has never been more grateful for Cas’s weird-ass logic.

Their relationship had stayed strictly professional until Cas’s actual car broke down on some random highway in California. Dean had tried to talk Cas through the repair himself, but it was no use. Cas either didn’t have the equipment for the fix, or Dean didn’t diagnose the right problem. Dean was about to hang up, when Cas had asked, clearly embarrassed, “Would you please stay on the line? I have this irrational fear of being murdered in the middle of nowhere where nobody can find my body for proper rites.”

Dean, almost surprising himself, didn’t laugh. Instead, he said, “Sure thing. Wanna put me on hold while you get in touch with Triple A?”

He spent an hour and a half on the phone with Cas, telling him stupid stories about the worst things people have done with their cars.

In return, Cas told him all about the stars that were just coming out in the darkening desert sky.

The week after, Bobby’s garage received a gift certificate in the mail. It was for a weeklong stay at the Chicago location of the five-star hotel chain Cas works for, in Dean’s name.

Those little chocolates on the pillows ruined Dean for motels everywhere.

At the bar, Dean signals the bartender for a refill. He glares down at his phone. The little rectangle contains his entire history with Cas, call logs, text receipts, everything.

He can’t look at it any longer. He shoves it in his pocket, and the receipt with his soulmate’s phone number crinkles in protest. With a sigh, Dean takes out the flimsy piece of paper.

James’s handwriting is neat, so Dean doesn’t even have the excuse of not being able to read a digit or two.

Maybe Dean will give him a call after his drink with Cas. Hopefully, once James finds out that Dean’s just a mechanic, lives in a shoebox apartment in Bucktown, and has never been to Aspen or the Alps, he’ll tell Dean to take a hike.

Dean flips the receipt over, and his stomach gives a sickening lurch. In pretentious curlicue lettering, the first words Dean reads are, The Nine Spheres.

James is staying at Cas’s hotel.

Fucking great. Dean crumples the receipt and shoves it back in his pocket. With his luck, James will probably want to meet in the restaurant on the first floor, the fancy-ass place with the steakhouse burger and truffle fries Dean would actually sell his soul for.

Dean actually dreamed about that burger, a few months after his Cas-sponsored stay. When he told Cas about it, Cas let out a bark of laughter.

In the next breath, though, he told Dean he does the same when he’s scoping out a new location and can’t stay at a nearby Nine Spheres.

Dean tips back his glass of whiskey. It’s stopped burning on the way down his throat, a good sign.

He was so stupid, thinking he could fuck with destiny, fate, or whatever shitty power up there decides soulmates.

Once Cas told him about his business trip to his neck of the woods, Dean had taken one look at the numbers on his arm counting down and did the math. He would meet his soulmate smack dab in the middle of Cas’s window in Chicago.

He could make Cas be his soulmate. Cas never brought up his timer, if it was still ticking, if he’d already met his other half. And Dean, coward that he was, never asked. If he didn’t know for sure, then there was that slim, slim chance that theirs matched up after all.

But no, Cas had to go and switch up their meeting time at the last second, and Dean had run into James instead.

His pocket buzzes with a new text. Mood lower than Cas’s voice register, Dean slides his phone out.

Cas 4:38 My meeting is over. Should I still meet you at the same place?

Dean 4:39 Yeah Hope its okay I got started without you

Cas 4:40 More than okay, considering my scheduling difficulties.

Dean 4:40 See you soon

Dean sighs and drains his glass.

Foot jiggling on the barstool and eyes trained on his hands clasped in front of him, Dean deliberately does not look around as the door opens.

And opens again.

And again.

Confused and irritated, Dean takes another look around. Above the bar, a chalkboard clearly proclaims Happy Hour from 4:30-6:30 PM. Dean ducks his head, scowling into the remains of his drink. He probably overlooked the sign before because of his single-minded quest to get shitfaced like a freshly-dumped senior at prom stuck next to the spiked punch bowl.

His phone obnoxiously tells him it’s 4:43.

That’s just great. Dean hops off the stool, meaning to ask the hostess if anyone’s asked for Winchester, when James pushes open the door.

Dean stops dead in his tracks.

James freezes, his eyes going wide. His trench coat swishes ominously to a stop.

Should Dean turn around? Pretend he didn’t see? Cas is going to be here any second.

Before he can make up his mind, James is walking towards him. “Hello,” he says. “I wasn’t expecting to run into you here.”

Dean swallows. “Me neither,” he says honestly.

James scans the small crowd now gathered around the bar, brow furrowing in concentration. “I’m supposed to be meeting someone.”

Dean lets out a silent exhale of relief. He musters up a weak smile. “No problem, man. I’ll leave you to it.” As he turns back around, James steps up to the hostess stand.

James says, his voice slightly raised to be heard over the din, “I’m a bit late, but is there a reservation for Winchester? For 4:30?”

Dean could not possibly have heard what he thinks he did. But the timing is right - for once. He spins around, practically losing his balance thanks to the booze he already drank.

The hostess scans her sheet of names, shaking her head. “There was a reservation for Winchester at four PM, but that’s it.”

James’s face falls. Shoulders slumping, he pulls out his phone, squinting as the screen lights up. “He said he was here,” he mutters.

He can’t be Cas. That would be crazy - like, dingo ate my baby, crazy.

“Could be at the bar,” the hostess says flippantly, tilting her head to the crowded area. “Most of ‘em don’t check in.”

James’s lips press together. “Thank you,” he says to the hostess, his tone clipped. “I’ll wait there.”

Dean steps in front of him before James can get lost in the throng of people. “I heard you’re lookin’ for me,” he says with a confidence that’s only 99% bullshit.

James blinks. “You?”

“Dean Winchester, at your service,” he says, spreading his arms wide.

“Dean,” he echoes, his gaze raking up and down Dean’s body, drinking him in with his new eyes.

“Gotta say,” Dean drawls as his heart pounds with nerves. Doubt niggles at the back of his mind like an itch he can’t scratch, but he’s already made his memory foam bed. Might as well lie in it. “Cas is the weirdest nickname for James that I’ve ever heard.”

“My full name is James Castiel Novak,” Cas says, flushing. “James - that’s what I go by professionally. My family calls me Castiel.”

Dean can’t hold back his broad grin. “Family, eh?”

Cas’s expression takes a swift dive from embarrassed to mortified. “And friends,” he tacks on. He takes a step closer, staring at Dean’s face in wonder. “But you’re also my soulmate.”

Dean laughs giddily. “Should’ve known you wouldn’t beat around the bush. Not your style.” He jerks his head towards the bar. “I think I see an open seat. You wanna have that talk now?”

Cas hesitates. “Would you like to go to Nine Spheres instead? I’ve had business dinners every evening I’ve been in Chicago so far, and, while the food has been good-”

“It’s not the steakhouse burger?” Dean finishes for him.

The corners of Cas’s mouth turn down into a slight grimace. “Last night, a client treated us to tapas. I woke up starving.”

Dean smiles. “You know I’m always down for that burger.”

“Excellent,” Cas says with relish as he pushes open the door.

They walk onto the street, and it’s almost offensively quiet after the noise of the bar. It’s a balmy Spring evening, the sun still relatively high in the sky.

“You don’t seem disappointed anymore,” Cas says out of nowhere as they reach the end of the block.

So Cas caught on to that, back when they first ran into each other. Dean shrugs. “I just got stood up by the guy I’d specially set up to meet me at 4:01. Wouldn’t you be?”

Cas clears his throat, asking hoarsely, “You wanted it to be me?”

Dean throws him a look. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Cas just shrugs. The light changes, and they step off the curb.

“Were you… disappointed?” Dean asks hesitantly.

Cas lets out a surprised laugh. “Of course not. I didn’t even think - well,” he falters, casting a sidelong look at Dean, “I’m not disappointed. Believe me.”

The automatic doors to Nine Spheres open, hitting them with a burst of perfectly conditioned air. Dean hasn’t stepped foot in the hotel since Cas paid for his stay, but it hasn’t changed one bit. The same tiered giant chandelier glitters overhead. Giant pillars bracket the concierge desk to the left and the enormous staircase to the right that leads up to the second floor rooms. The tiled floor, so polished Dean can practically see his reflection, stretches the length of the lobby.

Dean sticks out like a flannel-wearing sore thumb. “Cas,” he hisses, “hold on. I don’t think I’m dressed right for this place.”

Cas sucks in a breath. “No,” he says as Dean’s heart sinks, “I suppose not.” He jerks his head towards the elevator bay. “Room service?”

Dean blinks.

“I’ve called for the burgers on several occasions at other locations,” Cas assures him. “It tastes as good.”

Was Cas actually trying to convince him to go up to his room? What a dumbass. Dean laughs.

Cas colors, his gaze dropping to the floor. “Forget it,” he mutters. “We don’t-”

“You know, if you invite me up to your room,” Dean cuts him off, “you’re going to have a bitch of a time getting me to leave, right?”

Cas stares at him.

“Dude,” Dean says, “I’ve never stayed anywhere this nice in my life. Between the food, the water pressure, and the robe that felt like I was fucking a cloud, I had enough of a hard time leaving last time.”

“I’m glad,” Cas says stiltedly. “We strive to provide the optimal experience to all our guests.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “’M saying, add you to the mix, and they’re gonna have to drag me out of here, kicking and screaming.”

“And if I don’t want you to leave?” Cas asks in an undertone as he pushes the up button for the elevator.

“Then I guess we don’t have a problem,” Dean says, winking.

Cas’s responding grin falls as the doors close behind them and the elevator starts moving. He shakes his head. “It’s a shame there are cameras in here.”

Dean leans in closer, whispering in his ear, “Doesn’t bother me much. Whaddya say to giving the peeping toms a show, then?”

Cas bites his lip, and this close, Dean can see how his eyes have blown black with want. “I - I can’t.”

It’s like he’s been doused with a bucket of ice water. Dean steps back, shame filling him. That’s fine. He can regroup. Hopefully Cas will be more receptive behind closed doors. It’s not the first time this has happened, anyway.

“Dean, I have to work with these people every day,” Cas hisses, wringing his hands. “The last time an executive got… busy with a coworker in the pool, the mocking didn’t end for weeks. Not to mention her rebuke from upper management.” He throws Dean a desperate look. “I would like for you to be fully clothed by the time you meet my coworkers for the first time.”

Cas is already planning for Dean to meet his people?

The elevator dings, and Cas steps out. “Are you coming?” he asks hesitantly.

“Oh, yeah,” Dean says quickly. As he follows Cas down the maze of rooms, he has to ask, “You were planning on introducing me to your coworkers?”

Cas’s cheeks pink. “Unless you were opposed to it,” he mutters as he stops in front of Room 1518. He sighs, making no move to insert his keycard. Instead, he lifts his head to meet Dean’s gaze squarely. “I’ve put in a transfer request to Chicago.”

“What?”

“It was before I knew you were my soulmate,” Cas says quickly. “I’ve never felt like I fit in in California, and my parents live in Pontiac. The Chicago office is decently large, and, well, I knew you were here,” he says, his voice going quiet near the end. He straightens. “So there were many reasons.”

“You’re staying?” Dean says, his mouth dry.

Cas bobs a nervous nod. “I hope that’s okay.”

Dean grins. “Sure is.”

Cas touches the inside of his wrist, his expression turning almost shy. “Of course, when I first pictured introductions, it was strictly as a friend. I don’t really know anyone else in this city well, and I’ve told you about my difficulty in social situations, so it would’ve been more for moral support than anything else. But after this evening -”

Dean interrupts his rambling. “Are there cameras in the hallway?”

“What- oh,” Cas says, his eyes flicking down to Dean’s lips before back up again. “Yes?” He points. “They’re all the way down there, though, so they can’t -”

Dean cuts him off with a heated kiss.

#destiel #fanfic #destiel fanfic #soulmates au #businessman Castiel #mechanic Dean #profoundnet #rae writes fic #i post something new every Sunday #this one kind of got away from me #but hopefully in a good way #deancas #deancas fanfic

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thiswasinevitableid · 4 years ago

Note

For the prompt fill, number 3 for Indruck seems pretty fitting!

Here you go! Prompt 3 was “sweet” , Indrid’s design is based on a barracuda and I went with SFW on this one.

“Duck, can you do me a favor when you lock up?” Leo dumps orange taffy into a glass jar.

“Sure, what d’you need?”

“Got some locks for the garbage cans; put ‘em on after you set the alarm out back. Somethin’s been getting into our trash every damn night for the last week. It makes a god-awful mess and I’m worried we’re gonna get a fine for littering.”

Duck nods, turns his attention back to the flock of tourists approaching the window. The afternoon is swallowed up in a pit of sugar-sticky air and blasts of welcome cold from the freezer. There are worse places for a summer job than Tarkesian’s Sweets--he’s right by the water, can watch the wildlife on his lunch break, and Leo is low-maintenance boss--but after eight hours on his feet getting splashed with soda or burned on the popcorn machine, he’s ready to head home. The trash locks have other ideas.

It takes ten minutes of cursing and fumbling to get the first bin secured. He doesn’t even know how the damn things are getting overturned; they seem too heavy for a raccoon or seagull to knock to the ground.

A tiny splash behind him, probably a fish jumping.

Then a crooked, shiny pole slowly enters his periphery. In dim yellow of the streetlight, he can tell the end of it is curved. It pokes inelegantly at the wall, then the locked can, then the wall once again, and then Duck’s leg.

The hook pulls back, pauses, then pokes him again.

“The fuck?” He grabs it when it goes for another jab, pulls up only for his arms to be wrenched towards the water. Not to be outdone, he tugs harder. His opponent retaliates with enough force that he almost tumbles off the pier. He growls, braces his foot on the railing, and hauls the hook and its owner up onto worn wood with him.

It’s a guy about his age, angular face framed by a mess of silver hair and pierced ears. Figures it’s some sort of artsy punk swimming around poking people in the leg. That explains why he’s shirtless too.

It does not, however, explain why he has a tail.

“Rude.” The guy sits up on his hands, silver and black tail flicking droplets of saltwater everywhere, “I don’t go around stopping you from eating.”

“Look man, I just wanted you to stop jabbin me and knockin the trash over.” Maybe if he doesn’t mention the tail it will go away.

“How else am I supposed to get at those odd, pulpy tubs full of ‘cookies and cream’ or ‘bubblegum’?”

“The fuck--wait, you were tryin’ to get the ice cream containers out of the trash?”

“Yes? I also want more of the caramel apples” he pronounces the last word “applees” causing Duck to giggle in spite of himself.

“Look, I have to piece words together from the signs on your store. And you obviously know what I meant or you would not be laughing, so do you have any in the cans or not?”

“Nope” Duck gets his laughter under control, “sold out of caramel apples today.”

“Drat” the visitor starts scooting across the pier towards the unlocked trashcan, “I’ll see what else I can find.”

“Wait don’t fuckin knock that over, Leo’ll be pissed at me if he comes back to a mess, and I don’t feel like pickin up trash because you want a snack!”

“But I’m starving!” The merman, because at this point there’s no way he can deny that’s what’s been rooting through the garbage, whacks at Duck with his tail.

“I know for a damn fact there’s food down there.” He points at the bay.

“Only if you can catch it, and only if it is not in another mer’s territory. Which much of this area is; I am new here, young, and thus have no claim to any patch of sea.”

“You ain’t got any family?” Something pings in his chest. It’s the part of his heart that made him pick out the runt of litter when his mom let him get a cat on his thirteenth birthday, that means he always splits his lunch with Juno because she’s running track and needs it more than he does, that makes him tear up when he thinks about everything a sapling has to survive to become a tree.

“Merfolk leave home at sixteen.” The merman shrugs.

Duck sighs, grabbing his keys, “If I bring you somethin to eat, will you leave the trash alone?”

“Yes.”

He shuts off the alarm, grabs a cone and fills it with bright blue ice cream. The merman is back in the water when he returns, arms resting on the pier.

“Oooh, my favorite!” He takes the ice cream, biting huge chunks out of it as Duck re-arms the door.

Crunch

“...The container is edible!!”

He sits next to the merman’s arms, “Guess you wouldn’t have had an ice cream cone before, huh.”

“No, but it is lovely. I wish humans threw these away more often.” He polishes off the treat, licks his fingers clean with moans Duck hears in his dreams later, and smiles, “thank you for the meal. Goodnight.”

There’s a final flash of silvery tail, and then Duck’s alone in the breezy night air.

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

“That’s a sandwich, correct?”

“AHfuck” Duck knocks over his water bottle in surprise. He’s eating behind the candy store like usual and not expecting an aquatic dining companion.

“Apologies. I have seen you eating here before and thought you may like some company.” He sets a sea urchin on the ground and proceeds to bang on it with a rock.

“Found some lunch?”

“I followed some otters; I was mainly trying to draw them, but they led me to a kelp bed no one else was in.”

“...Wait how do you draw underwater?”

“Let me finish cracking this open and I will show you.”

Duck spends the rest of his lunch break on his belly, the merman showing him a sketchbook and enchanted pen that conjures whatever colors the illustrator envisions. The mer is genuinely excited to talk to him. He assumes the nuzzling is due to him smelling like cotton candy; he doesn’t mind, the mer’s skin is cool and he makes cute little noises whenever he touches Duck.

Before the stands, Duck asks, “You got a name?”

“Indrid.”

“Duck.”

Indrid’s eyes flick to the nearby estuary.

“Yeah, like the bird. It’s a nickname.”

“I like it.” Indrid smiles, dives, and flaps his tail once in farewell.

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

“Cutting school again?” Indrid’s voice bubbles up by his feet.

“Yep.” Duck watches the spring clouds roll by from his favorite spot on the beach. It’s secluded and far from town, meaning no one will give him shit for skipping class and nobody will see Indrid.

He worked at Leo’s until this past summer, only quitting at the start of his senior year of high school when Indrid pointed out that much of Kepler was surrounded by water and that, if Duck wanted to see him, he did not have to keep working at the candy store in order to do so.

“Not that I mind the free food.” Indrid winks.

“Just gonna bring you bulk ice cream from Safeway; no way am I missin out on that chirpin you do when you eat it.”

Duck slides the grocery bag towards the surf, “not like KCC is gonna rescind my offer. Ain’t a fuckin Ivy League or some shit.”

“And you will be happy there?”

“Yeah. They got a decent work-study program with the park, so I can still get a job as a ranger if I want to.”

“Oh. Good.”

Indrid sounds sad, and Duck sits up on his elbows. His friend’s torso is fully on land, his tail fidgeting in the foam.

“What’s up?

“I...Barclay told me his human is going to a school further inland, and I know there are many places you could got to learn. You...you did not choose to stay in Kepler because you feel the need to look after me, did you?”

“Course not.” Duck is sitting up now, aching to stroke Indrid’s hair, “I mean, I’m glad we’re still gonna be able to see each other, and I really hopin I can get a room near the beach so it’s easy to come talk. But this is the right choice for me; if I really want to, I can transfer to a different school in a few years, and I can learn a lot here without takin on a shit-ton of debt. Besides, ain’t like I think you’re helpless; I love bringin you stuff and rubbin your fin when it’s sore, but that’s because you’re my friend. Don’t think you’re helpless. I never have.”

“Not even when I was stealing trash?”

“Thought you were a fuckin nuisance, not helpless.” He playfully nudges his shoulder with his toes.

Indrid turns his head and nips his calf, “How’s that for a nuisance?”

“Not much, felt kinda nice. Uh, I mean, uh, fuck, so, where’d that worry about my stayin come from?”

The mer crawls and wiggles until they’re shoulder to shoulder, “I think my future sight is finally developing; my fathers arrived around the time he turned eighteen, so it makes sense mine would arrive at a similar point. The trouble is, I am having a hard time telling the futures from my own imaginings and worries.”

“That fuckin sucks.”

“I’ll manage. All seers struggle at the beginning. I just wish I was quicker at learning whether certain timelines are really more likely or if they are just ones that I want to be likely.”

“Like what?”

Indrid glances at him, opens his mouth, then shuts it and faces the sea.

Duck smirks, “‘Drid, there somethin you wanna ask me?”

“No. Yes. Maybe? I, I just don’t want to pressure youOOOHhhh that’s not fair” he flops on his back with a groan as Duck scritches his upper tail, “you know I’ll do anything when you touch me like this.”

“Damn right I do. And what I want is for you to tell me the truth.”

Indrid whines, covers his face with his hands.

“Do it or I’ll stop.”

“Rude” Indrid lowers his hands enough that his red eyes peer over the top, “is that any way to treat a mer who wants to kiss you?”

Duck gives his answer by pouncing on his friend, pinning narrow shoulders into the sand as he devours his mouth in kisses.

“You like that treatment better?”

“Goodness, yes.” Indrid pulls him back down, slipping his tongue between his lips and nibbling his neck when he finally stops to breathe. Then his hand flails sideways, grabbing the plastic bag and chucking it further up the beach.

“The, the tide is coming in and I, ah, foresee us working up quite the appetite.” He tugs Duck’s collar down with his teeth, nuzzling and licking across his skin with little hums of pleasure, “so I want to save those for afterwards. Who knows” he grins, “maybe we’ll need energy for round two as well.”

Duck cups his cheek, inhales the scent of the sea and the sight of his future, “I like the way you think, sweet thing.”

#Indruck #indrid cold/duck newton #mermay fills

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joeymozzarello · 6 years ago

Text

Pen to Paper

Chapter Three

Summary: A simple thesis on a simple book she’d read. That’s all she needed to do. She knew it would be at least a little bit arduous but she didn’t think it would cause this much trouble.

Pairing: Tim Murphy x original female character

Words: 1,914

A/N: i got the idea for this in the american natural history museum where i found a note to a Julie T from a Dr. Com on a bench near the t-rex room.

9AM in London, 4AM in New York. Julie wondered if she’d ever get used to this. At least her view was nice, everything else about her room - wasn't. It was a tiny little bedroom with a lumpy bed and a bathroom that barely worked. She was sure she’d seen a couple of roaches move from between furniture but she didn’t ponder too much on that thought, it freaked her out beyond words. This was the price, the universe gave her an awesome opportunity and in return, she had to sleep in an infested room for a couple of months. No biggie.

The past two days at the museum had been unreal, everyone had treated her fine, she didn’t really mind the stares or the confusion in the librarian’s eyes when Julie asked her for a specific book on fossilisation. “Jeez, when was the last time you guys got a new addition to the team?” Julie had asked, to which Tim had only pointed at himself and shrugged, thanking Amanda for whatever she’d just given him.

One thing she’d noticed was that Tim’s blazer pockets were always full. He’d just stick his hand in and out would come a rainbow belt or whatever sour candy he had tucked in there. Julie found that a little bit peculiar, she hadn't commented on it, yet, she didn’t know how to mention it to him without making it sound like she was judging.

4AM.

It was too early, still dark outside. It was day three and she was already low on funds. Her parents told her they would’ve given her money for this trip but they still hadn't, at this point she had to decide between a train ticket or lunch. If she spent more than three dollars on things that weren’t essential, then she wouldn’t have enough money to pay for the hotel room. Tricky.

“Hey, Soph,” Julie gave her best friend a tired smile through the phone. Sophie, seemingly shocked to have received this phone call knotted her eyebrows together. “You going to class?”

She just blinked. “Isn’t it like, really early over there? Why are you awake, JJ?”

Julie giggled. “I asked you a question,” Sophie’s scowl didn’t falter. “I can't sleep, okay! I’m fine, I’m just jet lagged.”

“I thought maybe it was the thought of not being able to see me for months that was keeping you up,” Sophie laughed. The two of them spoke for a little bit until Sophie had to go to one of her morning classes and Julie was left alone once again.

She checked her Google Maps; if she walked, it would take almost three hours to get to the museum and that way she’d have enough money to buy a hot dog from one of the carts that sat within Central Park. She sighed. I better get ready to go, then.

On the other side of the river, over in Tribeca, in an apartment that held too much room for one person and three cats, Tim Murphy was pacing around his wooden floorboards muttering random facts he could remember in hopes to bore himself to sleep. It was raining out, he could see the drops rolling down his window, it was slow but it was heavy. One of his cats, Butter, was trying to catch the drops as they raced down to the apartment below. Meanwhile Peanut napped on Tim’s various open journals and scrap paper and Jelly watched the Discovery Channel on the TV.

The problem about 4AM in New York was the noise. No one should be awake at 4AM and yet, cars were honking and ambulances were off doing what ambulances do best and Tim Murphy paced around, drinking tea and beating the record for most consecutive hours awake. It was truly a remarkable city.

He walked over to his desk and lovingly picked up Peanut, waking him up from his nap. “I know, I know, I’m sorry,” he cooed. “I just need my papers, I’ll put you right here where you’ll be much more comfortable, I promise you,” Tim moved his cat to the couch, where Peanut just shook him off and jumped over onto the coffee table. Tim shook his head. “Ungrateful.”

The notes that lay open in front of him had been revisited hundreds of times over the years, part of them were the primary notes he used for his book and the rest were scribbles he’d made during nights like these where he didn’t sleep a blink. He was proud of himself and his work, he’d come so far in his craft and the fact that he’d actually managed to write a full book was still extremely surprising to him.

Jelly jumped at the TV, trying to catch a mosquito, Tim rolled his eyes.

Out of nowhere, Julie Trenton came to his mind, the new kid at work. She was - something, alright. She was constantly questioning everything Tim said, watching his every move, always. It was distressing sometimes because he knew she’d seen him downing six mugs of coffee in two hours, and he knew she was going to come at him about it. She probably came to mind because she’d mentioned being awake at this time. He wondered if she could get to sleep. The question remained unanswered.

Morning at the museum was busy and quiet. Julie had noticed historians didn’t talk much, they just gave her awkward looks and then kept typing or scribbling. Maybe they just didn’t like her, that was also an option but she didn’t want to think about that. “Morning, Julie,” Dr. Connors walked in, dumping her bag next to her desk, barely making eye contact. “So much to do this morning, how good are you at running around and delivering things?”

So, Julie spent the whole morning bringing various things to various people, trying to memorise names and faces and make friends. She realised how awkward she truly was; laughing at things that aren’t funny and saying things like ‘coolio’ and ‘okie-dokie’ in a place of work, to grown adults who didn’t know her.

Dr Simon Whelk, room 312, last door on the left. Easy enough.

She knocked, not waiting for Dr. Whelk to say come in and just looked down at the post-it note as she waltzed into the room. “Dr. Whelk? I have your-” she froze, a room of people all turned to look at her, confused. Julie was unsure if Whelk was even in there, she had no idea what he looked like. “I’m guessing I got the wrong room,” she chuckled quietly, her eyes catching Tim’s gaze.

The man stood at the front of the room cleared his throat. “Who are you?”

“Julie Trenton, sir,” she shook out of Tim’s eyes. “I must’ve landed in the wrong room, I am looking for a Dr. Simon Whelk?”

His expression softened. “That’s me,” he reached forward, inviting Julie to hand him the papers. “Thank you, Ms Trenton, you must come again soon.”

Julie’s heart dropped as she walked out of the room, she felt childish and a little appalled, but she also felt that it wasn’t worth fussing over. She brushed it off, it was finally lunch time.

Twelve o’clock in Central Park was way too crowded for Julie’s taste, so she took her tiny hot dog and walked it to the foodcourt at the museum, sitting at a table close to the window, eating slowly, knowing this would be the only food she’d have until tonight - and even then, all she’d have would be a couple of Digestives from the stash she’d brought from home.

Just as she was taking her journal out of her bag to continue her first draft of her theses, none other than Tim Murphy dropped his sandwich and Diet Coke in front of her and sat down. “You sure know how to make an entrance,” he said blankly. She was taken aback.

“I could say the same thing about you,” Julie knitted her eyebrows together, setting her journal back in her bag, slowly. “Have I done something?” Tim angrily bit into his sandwich. “I’m sorry, we must be playing a game of charades I didn’t know about, are you an angry caveman?”

Tim rolled his eyes, putting his sandwich down. “No, I’m cranky,” he pouted.

“I can see that,” Julie sighed. “What is it, d’you forget your sour candy at home?” She said smugly. She couldn’t believe this is how she was talking to the Tim Murphy, last week’s Julie would be completely baffled. Tim didn't say anything. “Seriously, what’s wrong, you’re freaking me out.”

Tim’s eyes wondered to her half-eaten hotdog. “Is that what you’re having for lunch?” He asked. Julie just nodded.

“There can only be cheap dinners in the Trenton household or else there can be no Trenton household,” Julie shrugged. Tim’s eyes widened with worry. “No, it’s fine, I have food back at the hotel,” she didn’t enjoy this much attention, especially if it contained that much worry. She was sure her parents would give her money soon, so there was nothing to worry about. “Anyway, stop trying to change the subject, what’s wrong with you this morning, you seemed perfectly fine when I walked into your year six assembly,” she just watched him for a second.

“Nothing, it’s just Whelk-” he stopped. “Nothing, it’s nothing. Where are you staying?”

“A hotel in Brooklyn Heights,” she scrunched up her nose.

“That’s not so bad - why the face?”

She bit her lip, her breath hitching slightly, trying to word this next sentence as carefully as possible. “It’s just a bit, um, underwhelming,” she couldn’t believe she was having this conversation, after years of being master of dodging questions, she had been beaten. “I’m just paying a lot of money for a not-so-good place,” she sighed.

“Why don’t you try and find someone who needs a roommate?”

“Are you volunteering?” She laughed. Tim froze. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding, God, chill out. I’m okay anyway, it’s only a couple of months and then it’s back to England for JJ.”

The expression on Tim’s face was laughable, Julie didn’t know how to handle all of this attention so she just brushed off all of his worries and changed the subject yet again. As he talked, Julie observed him, he spoke so quickly about so many things, it was hard to keep up.

Up close, Tim had a very angular face, his nose was in a perfectly straight point that had a little shine on the tip and that perfectly led into the rest of his face, his dark circles, scruff and auburn hair. She was watching him so intently that she’d forgotten to listen to what he was saying and in turn, she stopped talking.

“You’re staring,” Tim huffed. “Let me guess, you were some crazed fan of mine and the whole ‘theses’ thing was just a lie to get closer to me,” he clicked his tongue. “Ugh, why does this keep happening, I should’ve known, you’re just like the rest of them.”

Julie’s mouth fell open, a laugh falling out. “Wow, I had no idea I was having lunch with a narcissist, I’m sorry, I guess I’ve gotta leave,” she shook her head. “Please point me in the direction of all those poor girls, I’ll talk them out of whatever they must’ve seen in you.”

“Ouch, Trenton, that stung.”

She just shrugged, finally finishing off her hotdog, still hungry.

Master List!

#tim murphy #dr tim murphy #tim murphy au #joe mazzello #joe mazzello au #jurassic world #jurassic park

32 notes · View notes

lauriecgarcia · 6 years ago

Text

10 Unique Gift Ideas For An Amazing “Gift In A Jar”

A few years back, I was in the middle of planning a blog post about gift baskets when I decided to abandon the basket altogether. Gift baskets have been done to death, so I decided I would have to think outside of the box (or basket, in this case). After a while the answer came to me—use a glass jar instead of a basket!

I ended up finding an inexpensive lidded glass jar at Walmart that worked perfectly for my purposes. (They’re also available online—check them out here.) And thus the “gift in a jar” was born!

The jar isn’t only a container for gifts, because it’s also a pretty useful gift on its own! These glass jars are really versatile, and you can use them to store or display almost anything. All you have to do is pack that jar full of gifts, and you’ve got a beautiful and thoughtful present that your recipient is sure to love!

How To Make Your Own Gift In A Jar

You’ll need:

Glass jar

Shredded paper filler or tissue paper (optional)

Ribbon or bows

A gift theme (see below for ideas!)

10 Creative “Gift In A Jar” Ideas

1. Winter Survival Kit in a Jar

Put together a little “survival kit” for a loved one who’s always on the go, even when the weather outside is frightful! Fill the jar with things that will help them get through the day! I chose hand sanitizer, lip balm, pain relievers, hand warmers, tissues, instant coffee packets, a small notepad and pen, and more!

2. T.L.C. in a Jar

Getting together with family and friends during the holidays can turn into the perfect storm for catching a cold! Give the gift of “tender loving care” by packing a jar full of cold and flu supplies, like tissues, some comforting soup, and a few DVDs for entertainment.

3. Ice Cream Party in a Jar

It’s hard to think of anyone who wouldn’t be thrilled to receive an ice cream party in a jar! Fill it up with ice cream cones, hot fudge, caramel sauce, sprinkles, and other ice cream fixings. Finish it off with a tag that says “Just Add Ice Cream!”

4. Cookie Decorating in a Jar

Have a family on your list? They’re sure to love receiving a ready-made family activity in a jar! Pack the jar up with store-bought cookies (or homemade, if you’re feeling ambitious!), tubes of colored frosting, small candies, and other cookie decorating supplies.

5. Guy Food in a Jar

The gift of food is an easy win with most guys. I added bottles of soda, a jar of queso dip, beef jerky, and a candy bar to this jar and called it a day! I know any of MY guys would love to get a gift like this!

6. Mani-Pedi in a Jar

Winter weather can wreak havoc on hands and feet! Give the gift of soft and pretty fingers and toes with a mani-pedi in a jar! You can fill the jar with nail polish, toe spacers, moisturizing lotions, and whatever else you think might be useful for a spa day at home.

7. Hot Cocoa Coziness in a Jar

This gift in a jar takes the standard hot cocoa gift to a whole new level! Fill the jar with hot cocoa supplies, PLUS comfy sweats, soft socks, a cozy scarf, toasty warm gloves, or even a snuggly hat! It’s the perfect gift for that person on your list who always seems to be cold.

8. Caramel Apple Cider in a Jar

Caramel apple cider makes a great variation on the warm beverage gift. Fill the jar with apple cider, your favorite caramel sauce, some cinnamon sticks, and some insulated cups so they can share with friends!

9. “Orange” You Glad It’s Christmas?

Fill the jar with orange-colored gifts! Think pumpkin scented candles, orange flavored candies, orange soda, and books with orange covers. The only limit is your imagination (and the selection of orange items you’re able to find!)

10. “Orange” You Glad It’s Christmas? II

I couldn’t resist creating a more literal interpretation of the theme above. It doesn’t get much easier than dumping a bag of clementines into a jar and adding some twine! Clementines are delicious, and couldn’t everyone use more vitamin C this time of year? I certainly think so.

from RSSMix.com Mix ID 8302119 https://www.onegoodthingbyjillee.com/10-gift-in-a-jar-ideas from The Top Cleaner https://thetopcleaner.tumblr.com/post/181289667552

0 notes

lauriecgarcia · 6 years ago

Text

10 Unique Gift Ideas For An Amazing “Gift In A Jar”

How To Make Your Own Gift In A Jar

You’ll need:

Glass jar

Shredded paper filler or tissue paper (optional)

Ribbon or bows

A gift theme (see below for ideas!)

10 Creative “Gift In A Jar” Ideas

1. Winter Survival Kit in a Jar

2. T.L.C. in a Jar

3. Ice Cream Party in a Jar

4. Cookie Decorating in a Jar

5. Guy Food in a Jar

6. Mani-Pedi in a Jar

7. Hot Cocoa Coziness in a Jar

8. Caramel Apple Cider in a Jar

9. “Orange” You Glad It’s Christmas?

10. “Orange” You Glad It’s Christmas? II

from RSSMix.com Mix ID 8302119 https://www.onegoodthingbyjillee.com/10-gift-in-a-jar-ideas from The Top Cleaner https://thetopcleaner.tumblr.com/post/181250613732

0 notes

lauriecgarcia · 6 years ago

Text

10 Unique Gift Ideas For An Amazing “Gift In A Jar”

How To Make Your Own Gift In A Jar

You’ll need:

Glass jar

Shredded paper filler or tissue paper (optional)

Ribbon or bows

A gift theme (see below for ideas!)

10 Creative “Gift In A Jar” Ideas

1. Winter Survival Kit in a Jar

2. T.L.C. in a Jar

3. Ice Cream Party in a Jar

4. Cookie Decorating in a Jar

5. Guy Food in a Jar

6. Mani-Pedi in a Jar

7. Hot Cocoa Coziness in a Jar

8. Caramel Apple Cider in a Jar

9. “Orange” You Glad It’s Christmas?

10. “Orange” You Glad It’s Christmas? II

from RSSMix.com Mix ID 8302119 https://www.onegoodthingbyjillee.com/10-gift-in-a-jar-ideas from The Top Cleaner https://thetopcleaner.tumblr.com/post/181206881567

0 notes

lauriecgarcia · 6 years ago

Text

10 Unique Gift Ideas For An Amazing “Gift In A Jar”

How To Make Your Own Gift In A Jar

You’ll need:

Glass jar

Shredded paper filler or tissue paper (optional)

Ribbon or bows

A gift theme (see below for ideas!)

10 Creative “Gift In A Jar” Ideas

1. Winter Survival Kit in a Jar

2. T.L.C. in a Jar

3. Ice Cream Party in a Jar

4. Cookie Decorating in a Jar

5. Guy Food in a Jar

6. Mani-Pedi in a Jar

7. Hot Cocoa Coziness in a Jar

8. Caramel Apple Cider in a Jar

9. “Orange” You Glad It’s Christmas?

10. “Orange” You Glad It’s Christmas? II

from RSSMix.com Mix ID 8302119 https://www.onegoodthingbyjillee.com/10-gift-in-a-jar-ideas from The Top Cleaner https://thetopcleaner.tumblr.com/post/181203593557

0 notes

lauriecgarcia · 6 years ago

Text

10 Unique Gift Ideas For An Amazing “Gift In A Jar”

How To Make Your Own Gift In A Jar

You’ll need:

Glass jar

Shredded paper filler or tissue paper (optional)

Ribbon or bows

A gift theme (see below for ideas!)

10 Creative “Gift In A Jar” Ideas

1. Winter Survival Kit in a Jar

2. T.L.C. in a Jar

3. Ice Cream Party in a Jar

4. Cookie Decorating in a Jar

5. Guy Food in a Jar

6. Mani-Pedi in a Jar

7. Hot Cocoa Coziness in a Jar

8. Caramel Apple Cider in a Jar

9. “Orange” You Glad It’s Christmas?

10. “Orange” You Glad It’s Christmas? II

from RSSMix.com Mix ID 8302119 https://www.onegoodthingbyjillee.com/10-gift-in-a-jar-ideas from The Top Cleaner https://thetopcleaner.tumblr.com/post/181199731177

0 notes

lauriecgarcia · 6 years ago

Text

10 Unique Gift Ideas For An Amazing “Gift In A Jar”

How To Make Your Own Gift In A Jar

You’ll need:

Glass jar

Shredded paper filler or tissue paper (optional)

Ribbon or bows

A gift theme (see below for ideas!)

10 Creative “Gift In A Jar” Ideas

1. Winter Survival Kit in a Jar

2. T.L.C. in a Jar

3. Ice Cream Party in a Jar

4. Cookie Decorating in a Jar

5. Guy Food in a Jar

6. Mani-Pedi in a Jar

7. Hot Cocoa Coziness in a Jar

8. Caramel Apple Cider in a Jar

9. “Orange” You Glad It’s Christmas?

10. “Orange” You Glad It’s Christmas? II

from RSSMix.com Mix ID 8302119 https://www.onegoodthingbyjillee.com/10-gift-in-a-jar-ideas from The Top Cleaner https://thetopcleaner.tumblr.com/post/181161426077

0 notes

lauriecgarcia · 6 years ago

Text

10 Unique Gift Ideas For An Amazing “Gift In A Jar”

How To Make Your Own Gift In A Jar

You’ll need:

Glass jar

Shredded paper filler or tissue paper (optional)

Ribbon or bows

A gift theme (see below for ideas!)

10 Creative “Gift In A Jar” Ideas

1. Winter Survival Kit in a Jar

2. T.L.C. in a Jar

3. Ice Cream Party in a Jar

4. Cookie Decorating in a Jar

5. Guy Food in a Jar

6. Mani-Pedi in a Jar

7. Hot Cocoa Coziness in a Jar

8. Caramel Apple Cider in a Jar

9. “Orange” You Glad It’s Christmas?

10. “Orange” You Glad It’s Christmas? II

from RSSMix.com Mix ID 8302119 https://www.onegoodthingbyjillee.com/10-gift-in-a-jar-ideas from The Top Cleaner https://thetopcleaner.tumblr.com/post/181144088542

0 notes

lauriecgarcia · 6 years ago

Text

10 Unique Gift Ideas For An Amazing “Gift In A Jar”

How To Make Your Own Gift In A Jar

You’ll need:

Glass jar

Shredded paper filler or tissue paper (optional)

Ribbon or bows

A gift theme (see below for ideas!)

10 Creative “Gift In A Jar” Ideas

1. Winter Survival Kit in a Jar

2. T.L.C. in a Jar

3. Ice Cream Party in a Jar

4. Cookie Decorating in a Jar

5. Guy Food in a Jar

6. Mani-Pedi in a Jar

7. Hot Cocoa Coziness in a Jar

8. Caramel Apple Cider in a Jar

9. “Orange” You Glad It’s Christmas?

10. “Orange” You Glad It’s Christmas? II

from RSSMix.com Mix ID 8302119 https://www.onegoodthingbyjillee.com/10-gift-in-a-jar-ideas from The Top Cleaner https://thetopcleaner.tumblr.com/post/181130254637

0 notes