Cauldron Bubble

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The OG author: BeforeEternity on ao3

Summary:

Camila wants to do something nice for her girlfriend for Halloween, even if she's not the best at potions. Lauren's just excited to be part of Camila's world.

Notes:

• Witch!Camila

• potion making

• Halloween

• Established Relationship

Happy Halloween!

Work Text:

"You sure about this?" Lauren asks, watching Camila add something green and somehow furry to the pot simmering on the stove.

"Sure as I'll ever be."

"See, that's what you said last time, and that didn't turn out too well." Lauren punctuates the words by letting her foot thud back against the side of the counter she's sitting on.

"Don't worry, Lo, I've got it this time. Last time was just a translation thing. Who would've thought that those Latin classes would actually be useful?"

"You, maybe? Have you not been studying this stuff most your life?"

Camila smiles at her over her shoulder, "Relax, seriously. I promise it'll be okay this time."

"It better," Lauren mutters, before continuing louder, "You don't actually have to do this for me, I was mostly joking anyway."

"I want to, this is your first Halloween in my world and I want it to be memorable. Besides, it's almost done."

Despite her reservations, Lauren looks on with interest as Camila adds something else Lauren can't identify to the pot, counting under her breath as she makes precise looking stirring motions with a heavy metal spoon. This is the first time she's been allowed to watch Camila make a potion since she found out she was a witch a couple weeks ago; the first, failed, test occurring before she arrived. She's a bit in awe of the easy way Camila moves around the kitchen, performing rituals that Lauren can't make heads or tails of.

Lauren thinks this is probably one of the coolest things she's ever seen, regardless of her teasing. Magic. She's dating a real-life witch. A real-life witch who's brewing a real-life potion. Her 10 year old self would be ecstatic right now. Hell, her 23-year-old self isn't doing much better.

When Camila chants something in Latin and the mixture suddenly turns a bright red and lets out an ominous shriek, Lauren jumps so violently she almost falls off the counter. "You're not like, summoning a demon or something, are you?" She asks, only half joking.

"There is no chance that this will be able to summon a demon. No self respecting demon is going to be summoned by some measly kitchen mix." She spins around to face Lauren and fixes her with an incredulous look. "That was supposed to happen. We just have to wait 17 minutes for it to set and it'll be ready to go."

"Wait, fuck, demons are real?"

"Let's maybe not focus on that part right now." Camila suggests quickly, stepping forward to stand between Lauren's legs. "What do you say about using this time to-"

She doesn't finish the sentence, choosing to brush her lips against Lauren's instead. All thoughts of demons take a back seat in Lauren's mind as she eagerly responds. When the timer goes off, Lauren's legs are wrapped tightly around Camila's waist, who has her hands splayed across Lauren's back.

Camila quickly releases her to tend to her potion and Lauren only spares a second to miss her warmth before realizing what she's about to see.

"Okay, I just need to pour this over the pumpkin," Camila spoons some of the potion over the jack-o'-lantern on the kitchen floor as she speaks, the potion quickly absorbing into it. "Then recite this spell..."

They both hold their breath afterwards. Nothing happens at first, and Lauren is just thinking that maybe it didn't work at all this time, when the pumpkin suddenly jumps 3 feet into the air. The second it lands, it opens its carved mouth and starts screech-singing.

As soon as she registers the lyrics ('Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle all the way'), Lauren doubles over in laughter, which only grows stronger when she sees Camila's put-out expression.

"It was supposed to say 'boo', how-"

"It was closer this time at least?" Lauren nods to the first attempt in the corner, a bright blue and still slightly smoking mess. "And, well, it definitely met your goal of being memorable."

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