Summary: You can tell that Dean has been
struggling lately and think it’s about time you two talked about it. What he suggests surprises you.
Characters: Dean Winchester x reader
Word count: 526 (Drabble)
Warnings: Season 12 spoilers (If you haven’t watched 12.03, “The Foundry” then you should probably catch up first), angst, feelings of abandoness, insecurities
Author’s Notes: This is my submission for @angelschallenge gif+adjective drabble challenge. Thank you so much for organizing this, Angel!
My adjective prompt was “troubled” (it is included in bold in the text below) and my gif prompt is under the cut.
You tiptoed to the library carefully, not wanting to wake up Sam. Dean hadn’t been in bed when you’d woken up in the middle of the night -again- and you knew he’d be there; he was predictable like that.
Leaning against the doorframe, you found him on the couch, a bottle of amber liquid in front of him, half empty glass in hand.
“A penny for your thoughts.” You murmured softly and he looked up, surprised and troubled, that half smile that meant to reassure you everything was fine but did anything but, spread across his lips.
Why does she agree to these things? Every time she agrees to
come for a drink with Ruby she knows she will be left sitting at the bar whilst
Ruby is off flirting with God knows who. Well now in this case, making out with
someone she’s probably already forgotten the name of. She thought back to when
she reluctantly agreed to come to this God forsaken bar.
‘Oh please Regina’
begged Ruby ‘you haven’t been out since you and Graham split up’
‘I’m not in the mood
for this’ Regina deadpanned, cleaning the same spot for the tenth time.
‘You’re never in the
mood for this. Come out, have fun, you might meet someone new you never know.
Maybe give that counter a break from your cleaning’
Regina simply moved to
‘And that one.’ Regina
still said nothing. ‘Look it’s been 6 months since Graham, you could at least
do something different other than clean your house for the umpteenth time… I
can do this all day Regina, I’m asking for one drink.’
‘One drink?’ asked
‘Fine, but that’s all
‘Yay!’ Ruby squealed,
jumping up and clapping her hands together.
And now here she was, sat at the bar with her one drink,
with Ruby off and draped over some guy. Regina turned her drink round and
round, not taking her eyes off the glass.
‘Penny for your thoughts.’ Regina jumped and her head
snapped up towards the unmistakable British accent. ‘Sorry, didn’t mean to
startle you’ the bartender smiled in what she assumed was meant to be kind but
right now just irritated her.
‘Yeah well you did’ Regina snapped.
‘Is that your friend over there? The girl with red streaks
in her hair?’ The bartender asked, ignoring the fact that he’d just been
‘Yes’ Regina muttered ‘One drink she said. Should have known
better.’ Regina took another sip of her gin and tonic.
‘She normally like this then?’
Why was he so interested in Ruby? Probably the same reasons
every other guy was interested. She knew how to turn heads with just a simple
look and flick of her hair. Not that it bothered her that he was interested in
Ruby, what guy wouldn’t be?
‘Why does it matter to you? You interested or something?’
Regina asked brusquely.
‘No, no need to get defensive, just making conversation. Or
at least trying to.’
‘Yeah well stop trying, because I’m not interested.’ Yet
that answer seemed to relieve her a bit.
‘Really? Cause you sounded jealous that I might have been
interested in your friend over there’ he smirked
‘Why would I be jealous of a simple bartender, whose name I don’t
know?’ Regina snarked, she couldn’t let this man affect her this way. Look how
it ended last time something like this happened.
‘I’m not simple, most people find me quite complex. And the
‘Yeah I’m sure you are complex’ Regina said, rolling her
eyes. ‘So Robin are you actually going to do any work or just stand there and attempt
to make the place look pretty?’
‘Well as you can see there is no one waiting to be served,
so yes I will stand here and make the place look pretty, as you so aptly put it’
‘I said attempting actually. You seem pretty sure of
yourself don’t you?’
‘Well I do have the stubble and the blue eyes you ladies
always seem to fall for.’ Robin grinned.
‘Mhmm and the mousy brown hair all girls just love.’ Regina
said, trying very hard not to notice the aforementioned blue eyes and failing
‘Well my mousy brown hair as you so sweetly described it
hasn’t had any complaints so far.’
‘Well your girlfriend probably hasn’t said it to your face
then’ Regina sassed, finishing the rest of her drink.
‘I’m actually single, if you’ll believe it. No one has
managed to win my heart.’ Robin put his hand on his chest and pretended to look
‘Is that meant to make me feel sorry for you?’
‘No, I’m a strong independent man’ Robin mocked
‘Oh really? Cause it didn’t seem that way a moment ago’ She
smirked, as Robin called out last orders.
‘Do you want one last drink? You don’t have to stick to your
one drink rule, you never know could actually get a full smile out of you’
‘Might as well break my rule, seeing as Ruby over there was
meant to help me get over my ex, which to her means find someone to sleep with’
‘Ah, Ruby’s her name, think you could erm slip her my number?’
Regina’s jaw dropped and Robin winked and laughed. ‘I’m joking, gin and tonic isn’t
‘Erm yeah it is’ Regina said trying to recover. Robin passed
her drink over and went to serve some others before it was time to start
closing up. Looking at her watch she realised it was nearly 11. How was it so
late? She looked around for Ruby and spotted her walking towards her, with some
guy behind her.
‘Hey, Gina I’m going back with erm… with…’ Ruby looked
behind her, clearly having forgotten the guy’s name, just as she’d predicted.
‘That’s it, Billy. You’ll be okay on your own won’t you? Or
are you with that cute bartender you’ve spent most the night talking to?’
‘I’m not with the cute bartender, and it’s fine. Go.’
‘Okay if you say so’ Ruby walked off with Billy leaving
Regina alone at the bar again.
Robin came back over a few moments later.
‘Shame I haven’t got a shot with Ruby, heard her call me
‘Well she’s also drunk, so I wouldn’t rely on her judgement
right now. Plus I need to get going’ she said starting to put her jacket on.
‘Aw stay here with me for a little while longer at least
until I’ve cleaned up.’
Regina thought of her empty house, and how much for some
reason she didn’t want to go back to it.
‘Hmm I suppose I could stay for a short while.’ Regina
shrugged her jacket back off again.
Once the last few customers had left, she started to help
Robin clean up, even though he insisted she didn’t need to do it. They soon
finished and Regina stood by the door laughing at Robin and how he’d insisted
he could walk around this pub blindfolded, so had used a towel as a blindfold
and had consequently fallen over the half door that he didn’t realise had
closed too, blocking his entrance to the bar.
‘See I told you I could make you laugh’ Robin said as he
used the bar to pull himself off of the door.
‘You said… you could get me… to smile’ Regina laughed trying
to pull herself together but not quite managing to.
‘Still to laugh, you have to be smiling’ Robin pointed out
now walking towards her.
After Robin had locked up they started to walk towards their
‘Well this is me’ said Regina ‘Thanks for making this night slightly
better than I thought it would be.’ She started to walk round her car to get
‘Hang on’ called Robin ‘here if you don’t mind.’ He gave her
a piece of paper. Regina looked at it and realised he’d given her his number.
‘Don’t girls usually give the guy their number?’
‘Well I didn’t think you’d be giving me your number any time
soon. You don’t seem like the type of person who does that with anyone’
‘You’d be right’
‘Well do with that what you will. You can even rip it up in
front of me if you so wish.’ Regina just slipped the number into her back
pocket. ‘So does that mean I might hear from you?’
‘Maybe you will, goodnight Robin.’
They both got into their cars and drove off. And well if
Regina texted Robin the next day, it’s not like anyone had to know just yet.
With regards to what was asked about an anti-invasion (non-creatures only), couldn't creature token sources just have a way higher frequency in that set/block to compensate for the lack of creatures in the set/block? (i.e stuff like dragon fodder or dance with devils)
Imagine the battlefield full of pennies or glass beads, representing a variety of different sized creatures. You think to yourself, “If only there was a way to represent the size and ability of each creature to make gameplay easier.” : )
Either you’re playing the game with nothing but vanilla creatures, which would present numerous issues both from a functionality and gameplay standpoint, or you’re making more complex creature tokens at which point you should just be making creature cards.
You sighed tossing the dress onto the bed. It joined the many others that you had tried on earlier that evening. You groaned, you probably should have got JJ or Garcia to go shopping with you today. You sighed reaching over and grabbing the plain black dress you had tried on about 20 minutes ago. It would have to do.
Why you were so nervous for this you didn’t know. You seen Reid everyday, you worked with him. He’s seen you in the worst condition, in life threatening positions, crabby because of lack of sleep, he’s seen you in every state, You shouldn’t be so nervous about this.
You twisted in front of the mirror. It was a pretty dress, plain but pretty. It was a knee long flowing dress with a high neckline and sleeves that came down to your elbows, it had light blue flowers around the hem of the neckline. It wasn’t fancy but it was nice.
You didn’t have many dresses, it was mostly jeans and tops because that’s what you wore to work. You never had any real need to own anything else. Working in the BAU took up a lot of time, most of your time. You only really needed clothes for work.
Looking at the clock on your bedside table you realised it would have to do, it was almost 7 o’clock and Spencer wasn’t one to be late. He was always punctual. Reaching over you grabbed your bag and keys before turning and grabbing the cardigan you had taken out earlier. Thank god you left picking clothes until last, at least you didn’t have to do your make-up or hair.
Walking into the front room you left your bag by the door wanting to grab some water before Spencer arrived. Just as you turned you heard a soft knock on the door. You were sure that if you hadn’t been standing beside it you would have missed it. It was definitely Spencer’s knock though. He had a certain knock you had memorised.
Taking a deep breath you reached out. Then the knock came again this time louder. You would definitely have been able to hear it from inside your apartment. You waited a split second before opening the door.
herbs-and-journals Mint and Copper Money Spell Jar
• a few mint leaves (as many as you need to cover the pennies)
• 7 pennies
• small glass jar or bag
• gold or green ribbon
• a slip of paper (optional)
• a pen (green or gold) (optional)
Before putting it together, meditate or thing about your intent (it could be if you need some extra cash or paying something off). If you are doing the optional paper, write down the amount you need on the paper.
Next, wrap the pennies (and paper if you have it) in the mint leaves and tire together with the gold or green ribbon. While holding it in your hand, smell the mint and recite the chant 3 times. As the bundle grows warmer in your hand, imagine it is your intent filling it.
Mint and Copper in my hand,
Bring me all the gold you can.
Here to me from far and wide,
To my purse and by my side.
Finally place bundle into the jar or bag and place anywhere you like but somewhere you can see it almost everyday. Every time you see it imagine your intent recharging it.
Good Luck to You. (This is my first spell I hope you guys enjoy it and it works. ^^)
Their walk had ended where the night started, back in their dorm with a pile of French worksheets between them.
“You’re glasses are crooked.” Baz said dully.
Simon pushed them up with his index finger and set Baz with a hard stare. Three years of being roommates and he hadn’t quite figured him out. He knew somethings, though. Like that Baz loved poetry, probably wrote his own (and it was probably brilliant), he was literally good at everything (particularly sarcasm and giving mixed signals), and Simon was convinced he owed him a thousand quid for coffee by now.
Simon stifled a yawn. “I want to sleep.”
“What’s stopping you?” Baz looked up from a notebook he was scribbling in. His dark hair fell in a silky curtain around his face. Simon realized that he had really nice cheekbones.
“French grammar.” Simon nudged a few papers aside with his foot absentmindedly and huffed. “I might as well give up on film and change my major to French.”
“We can just finish it in the morning,” Baz mumbled. He rose to his feet and stretched.
Simon nodded and climbed into bed, taking a moment to pull his glasses off and setting them neatly on the nightstand. He reached over and turned the lamp off.
A slant of moonlight fell into their room from their window, highlighting the work scattered between their beds in a soft glow. Simon couldn’t help but think about how close they really were, and how easy it would be to push their beds together.
“You almost look cute without your glasses on.”
[2:04am] PENNY. MAYDAY.
[Penny, 2:13am] Jesus Christ, Simon. I have a chemistry test tomorrow.
[2:14am] BAZ KIND OF CALLED ME CUTE AND I CAN’T SLEEP.
[Penny, 2:17] I’m blocking you, goodnight.
Simon looked exhausted the next day.
There was music blasting from the room when Baz got back, his hands heavy with crates of beer. It almost sounded like Taylor Swift.
In your wildest dreams
It was Taylor Swift.
Baz precariously balanced the beer in the crook of one arm and unlocked the door. He wasn’t expecting to find a puffy eyed, sobbing mess-of-a-roommate lying on the floor surrounded by a gross mix of crumpled tissues and tearstained papers.
“Crowley, what the hell, Snow?” Baz screamed over the music, letting the beer tumble into his bed.
Simon sat up and dragged a hand down his face while drawing in a shaky breath. “Sorry.” Taylor Swift’s voice abruptly cut off.
“Are you drunk?”
“No.” Simon sniffled. He had a tissue stuck to his cheek, and Baz reached out to pluck it off before tossing it aside with a scowl. “I just figured out I have a D in my film class. French has been taking up too much of my time.”
“Do you want to be drunk?”
“I don’t drink.”
“You do now.”
“That’s against campus policy,” Simon mumbled.
Baz pulled a beer from the case and held it out to Simon, who grabbed it eagerly. “There’s a lot I do that’s against campus policy. Like smoke.”
“Remember when you called me cute?” Simon’s voice was slurred and he pointed at Baz with the mouth of his (fourth) beer.
“I didn’t call you cute, I said you were almost cute, and that’s only without your glasses.”
They were sitting on the tiny square of floor between the beds, legs tangled together, cheeks rosy, and lips turned into lopsided grins.
“What’s wrong with my glasses?” Simon’s eyebrows furrowed together and he struggled to keep a straight face.
“They make it harder to see your eyes.” Baz tipped his beer up and took a long drink. “They remind me of the sky.”
“Baz, read me some poetry,” Simon blurted.
“Read me poetry. I like your voice.” He giggled. “Don’t tell me the pretentious English major doesn’t have a thousand different poems memorized.”
Baz set his beer on the floor and cleared his throat before breaking into a fit of laughter. “I only know poems about love.”
“Tell me one.”
“Love is more thicker than forget
More thinner than recall
More seldom than a wave is wet
More frequent than to fail.”
Baz recited it perfectly. It was his favorite, reminding him of nothing other than blue eyes and bronze curls.
“Love is less always than to win
Less never than alive
Less bigger than the least begin
Less littler than forgive.”
He was suddenly aware of how close they were, of how close Simon was. Something was drawing them nearer, and then their lips brushed, and they were kissing.
“We were drunk,” Simon said idly. His eyes were cast on his notebook.
“Do you think it was a mistake?”
Baz ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “No, I don’t.”
Simon glanced up from his work and looked at Baz. His cheeks were flushed. “Does it count though? We were drunk, Baz.”
Baz bit his lip. Did it count? It sure as hell felt like it counted. “Let’s try again”
Baz’s lips were soft.
They pulled apart, and this time there was no drunken laughter following. There were only sheepish smiles and hot cheeks.
(The poem that Baz recited is called ‘love is more thicker than forget’ by E.E Cummings)