#had a rough time of it these kids! sorry about that greats grandpa

[idoodlestuffsometimes]

The folks fell down the family ancestry rabbit hole this weekend due to sudden maybe cousin(??) and anyway, feels extremely ironic to find out after a year of Brother's Keeper that we're apparently descended from one of two orphan brothers in early american history lmao wtf

[superiorsturgeon]

Forgiveness

Ren: *visiting with Arkos couple after a fight with Nora*

Ren: *sighs* Thank you again for letting me come by on such short notice, Jaune…I just…needed some space from Nora right now…

Jaune: *doing dishes after dinner while Pyrrha plays with Arkos kiddos in the living room* Hey, it’s no problem! The twins love when their favorite uncle visits! *pauses awkwardly* We can set up the pull-out bed after I finish, if you need to stay the night…?

Ren: Thank you again…*hands Jaune a cleaned plate*

Jaune: *stacks plate in drying rack and starts on a glass*

Jaune: …you know, Ren, if you wanna talk-

Ren: *interrupting suddenly* How did you forgive Pyrrha?

Jaune: *nearly drops glass* W-what…?!

Ren: I-I’m sorry, I’m not very good at…expressing my emotions or talking about others…

Ren: But after what happened with Nora, I need to know!

Ren: Back when Beacon fell, Pyrrha sent you away before she went up in the tower…you said that was your first kiss, but then she used it to trap you in a locker. It was a betrayal of your trust when Pyrrha chose to send you away and go to a fight she couldn’t hope to win.

Ren: I could see that she hurt you, Jaune. Even when she came back, I saw the pain she caused you, but now…

Ren/Jaune: *look over at Pyrrha playing with squealing Arkos children, balancing one on each shoulder while squatting up and down*

Ren: …and now, I’ve never seen two people more happy or in love.

Ren: So please, I need to know…

Ren: How did you do it? How did you work past something like that and stay together?

Jaune: *puts down the glass and pauses, watching Pyrrha do push-ups with her son clinging to her back while her daughter crawls underneath*

Jaune: …I gotta tell you, Ren, it was really rough for us, when Pyrrha came back. At first, I was like, SUPER happy to see her again, you know? It was like everything could go back to the way it was before Beacon fell!

Jaune: But after that feeling wore off, I remembered all that stuff you were just talking about, like how Pyr kissed me, and then shoved me in a locker and ran off without me to get killed instead of coming with us, and it started to bug me.

Jaune: …like, I REALLY started to resent her.

Ren: We all noticed. You stopped talking around her and stopped looking her in the eye. I think Pyrrha almost cried every time she saw you because you seemed so distant.

Jaune: Yeah…I was kinda bitter…Looking back, I know what she did was a dumb teenage decision made under a lot of unfair pressure, but at the time I was still mad, and I guess I kinda wanted to see her hurt because she hurt me…

Jaune: …in hindsight, it was pretty shitty of me to be all passive-aggressive and cold just to hurt her back, and I was being a dumb teenager too…

Ren: Did that realization make the difference?

Jaune: Nope.

Jaune: Believe it or not, I called my mom.

Jaune: I told her everything that was going on, and my problems with Pyrrha, and she gave me some advice her grandpa told her about relationships:

Jaune: *does a southern accent* “When the goin’ gets tough, ya only have two options: Ya either stop lovin’ ‘em, or ya love ‘em a whole lot more!” 🤠

Ren: …so…

Ren: …that’s the secret?

Jaune: *resumes putting cleaned plates away in cabinet* …weeeeelllll…there was a lot more to it than that! Pyrrha and I had to have a big talk about our relationship, and there were a lot of tears and apologies, but great-grandpappy’s advice kinda made me sit down and decide whether I wanted to be with Pyrrha or not, and once I decided that I wanted to be with her I could figure out what I had to do…

Jaune: *feels an impact as his son glomps onto his leg like a koala*

Jaune: *grins down at Arkos kid* And I think I picked the better choice! *scoops up his son as Pyrrha gathers up Arkos daughter for bedtime*

Ren: …your great-grandpappy sounds like a wise man, Jaune…

Ren: If you don’t mind, I think I need to make a call.

Ren later called Nora and they made up on Jaune and Pyrrha’s pull-out couch.

Nora: *snuggled against Ren’s chest* I’m glad you called, Ren, but what made you decide to give me another chance?

Ren: Someone gave me some advice that helped me decide what I wanted:

Ren: *in a terribly-executed southern accent* “When tha goin’ gets tuff, ya only got two opshuns: stop luvin ‘um, or ya luv um a whole lot more!”

Nora: …

Nora: Ren, that was sweet and touching and everything, but that accent was, like, the WORST accent I’ve ever heard! 🤣

Ren: Nora, please, it wasn’t THAT bad…

Nora: I love you, Rennie, but that was so bad it was offensive! 😂

[yourlocaltrashpandaa]

Bringing Back The Fox {Pt.1}

<========>

A/n: had this idea for foxy in security breach and I would like to share with class. Hope you enjoy it! I’m doing multiple parts idk how many I think 3 at best

glamrock!foxy x fem!reader ft. glamrock freddy

request: yes/no

Part 1 | 2 | 3

Context: y/n is a technician at the Mega Pizzaplex. While she was on her break, Freddy noticed her drawing a glamrock version of foxy. Then she makes her idea into a reality.

<=========>

“Good work as usual, Ms. Y/n.”

You turned over your shoulder when you heard your name. Freddy was standing behind you, the animatronic bear smiled. You smiled back turning your body to face him.

“Thanks big guy,” You replied. “You guys did great as usual! No mishaps this time which I’m thanking god for.” You chuckled.

Freddy chuckled with you at your comment. “Well, that’s all thanks to you.” He said.

“Oh no,” You waved your hands in front of you dismissing Freddy’s claim. “You guys are the true stars here.” You said.

“You got that right.” Roxy replied.

“Yeah, thanks for the compliment, sweet cheeks~.” Monty said with a wink.

You rolled your eyes at Monty. Chica walked up to you hugging your arms gently. “Don’t say that, Y/n. You are just as important as we are.” She said.

“Chica’s right. Don’t sale yourself short. Right, everyone?” Freddy asked turning towards Roxy and Monty.

“Yeah of course,” Roxy began. “Who else would make me look cool on stage.” She said.

“Same here. We need ya, sweet cheeks.” Monty said.

“Thanks you guys,” You smiled. “Well, time for me to take my break. Finally, I’m freaking exhausted.” You sighed out as started walking towards the backstage exit.

“Have fun on your break, Y/n!” Chica exclaimed waving at you.

“Thanks Chica. See you guys later.” You replied waving back behind you exiting backstage.

You took the elevator up to the second floor deciding to spend your break at El Chip’s. With your tool bag sling over your shoulder, you sat down at a table sitting your tools off to the side, placing a basket of chips on the table.

You unzipped a pocket on the side of your tool bag, pulling out a sketch book from it. After placing it in front of you on the table, you opened it with your pencil held in your hand, you started drawing a rough sketch of a fox with a star-shaped eyepatch, black bandanna with a crossbones in the middle of it and had a hook for his right hand.

You made him look like the other glamrocks, stars dotted his ragged pants, black and gold shoulder pads with a ragged vest. Foxy had a bushy tail, similar to Roxy’s as well as his hair though it was a red color and looked more like a mullet.

You have adored the fox pirate since you were a kid. You remember your grandpa talking about the old days of Freddy Fazbear’s and gave you a Foxy plush as gift. He shared old stories as well as pictures from the pizzeria even though you never been yourself yet you always felt a connection to it. Connection with the old fox pirate captain that regaled stories of his sea adventures.

It’s safe to say that Foxy held special place in your heart as well as your grandfather. Coming to work here in Pizzaplex was a dream come true though you wished that the pirate fox that loved so dearly was still around.

“That’s a neat drawing, Y/n.”

You jumped in your seat as you swiveled in your chair to look to see where the voice was coming from. Tower over you was the main man himself.

“Freddy,” You sighed out a breath. “You scared me.”

“Apologies, Y/n. I did not mean too.” The animatronic bear said.

“It’s okay,” You smiled, chuckling a bit. “I was so into my drawing and my thoughts that I didn’t see you. So, I should be apologizing to you, Fred.”

“Right, but still I’m sorry for startling you.” Freddy said.

“You’re forgiven, big guy,” You said patting his arm. “By the way, you said you liked my drawing.”

“Yes! You are very talented, Y/n.” Freddy exclaimed.

“Aw, thank you,” You looked down at your Foxy drawing then looked back up at Freddy. “Freddy?”

He hummed in response as you continued. “Do you have any memories of Foxy?”

That question made the bear tense up, his eye twitched slightly like your question triggered something. You have noticed that Freddy acted strangely more human than the rest yet you just chalked it up to his programming, but you had your suspicions.

“Freddy? Are you okay?” You reached out to touch his metal arm. He flinched snapping out of whatever trance he was in and looked at you.

“I’m sorry, Y/n. I lost myself there,” Freddy said. “And about Foxy… we never had fox here from my knowledge yet I do remember talk of bring back a Pirate Cove, but that never happened.” He said.

“I see…” You trailed.

“Why do you ask?” Freddy asked you.

“Oh! I was just reminiscing about my grandpa. He loved the Freddy’s Franchise and Foxy just holds a special place in my heart since he makes me think of my grandpa. Grandpa gave me a Foxy plush when I was little, I still have it too. I just wish he could have seen this place.” You said.

“He must have passed on to my understanding?” Freddy asked.

“Yes.” You replied.

Freddy pondered a bit. Maybe he can pull a few strings to get the Pirate Cove plans into action. You’ve done so much for him and the others that he is surprised that you haven’t gotten a promotion or even raise in your pay. So maybe he could give you something that was worth everything you’ve done.

[ratsoh-writes]

No.

No, this couldn't be happening

First the flayer monster, which Sea had done a good job of not dusting him out of respect for her grandpa.

And now... now this... this bunny monster!

Apparently her and her family of 6 were living below them. And of course Sea knew that, she always kept an eye on who entered the apartment building. She knew about the bunny, and about the other 4 tenants that lived in the other apartments as well.

What she couldn't have foreseen was that her grandpa got invited to the bunny's apartment. Ah no bitch! She was not gonna let that slide. And what was her grandpa thinking!? He didn't know anything about this monster, not anything of value at least.

Ugh. Seems like Sea would have to invite herself as well. And she will make sure the bunny knows not to mess with her or her grandpa. Sea will find every. Last. Ounce. Of dirt this bunny has. And that was a promise.

.

"It surprised me when you invited us for dinner"

"Aw. It's okay. I just wanted to meet our neighbors, I invited the others as well but it seems that only you two came"

Sea hadn't said anything during this whole exchange. She was busy scanning every inch of the apartment her eyes could look at. She already had a rough estimate of their income, what possessions they had before the crash and what stuff they recently bought. Their, poorly in her opinion, taste in decor, and a little of the family dynamic. This bunny was the head.

"Oh. And I have been dying to know, what kind of soup did you bring? This is delicious"

"Sea?"

"This is an old family recipe actually. Boiled rabbit. It took me a while to catch it, she was a big but old prey. Oh~! I even cut the legs to make good luck charms... do you want one?"

The bunny looked rather weirded out by that, forcing a small smile.

"I- hunt trophies are not my thing, but my grandson likes them. I'll... give one to him."

"Great~"

.

"What was all that about!?"

"What are you talking abo-?"

"You made that soup on purpose. And you were passive-agressive to her all the damn time we were there. Why!?"

"Well, I'm sorry if all I do is make sure our neighbors don't bother us."

This was it. Their first, and last, fight. The two other monsters had wisely retired to their room, leaving Herald and Sea to their own.

"No. What you are doing is treating everyone like they are a threat. Her, Maverick, the mailman, the store cleric, a group of kids. Kids!"

"Haven't you realized in what situation we are still in? We cannot trust anyone with a friendly smile, what if someone in the family catches on that you and the others are still alive? Huh? What then?"

"If they knew about us we would already be dead."

"No, if they find out about you they would make sure to slowly turn the small time you have to live into hell. I know that because I have done that due to them tasking me to"

"Sea, that's the paranoia talking!"

.

"Aaahh!"

A wall of concrete turned to dust after a single blow from her.

"That senile bastard! Why was he defending that BUNNY!?"

Her hair turned into fire as she grabbed a boulder and threw it at an abandoned building.

"Everything I do, everything I have done for him and this is how he treats me!?"

She felt angry, hurt, and betrayed. She always thought that upon escaping, there will only be her and Herald. She didn't need anyone else... but apparently she was not enough company for him.

"I save him, I free him, I gave him food, clothes, A PLACE HE CAN CALL HIS OWN AND THEN SUDDENLY I AM NOT ENOUGH-!"

"Are you talking about your cats, little cousin?"

.

"Now now, tell me the truth. Did you reaaaally dumped those three cats on the side of the road. Be honest"

"What I do with animals is none of your concern."

"Oooh~? But, see, I find it interesting. You were just shouting how much of a good owner you have been, you saved them, gave them food..."

He slowly walked towards her, hands behind his back, looking at her with those beady black eyes and that sickening wide smile.

"You gave him a place to stay, gave him clothes... freed him from. That. Basement."

She was internally panicking. No, there was no way he found out, she had been through about it all these years.

"You. You are full of surprises, Sea. I have seen you angry before and yet you never let that little shield spell in your mind waver... but now~ I have always wondered what it takes for someone like you to drop their walls..."

She acted on impulse, before she knew it, a wall of rock was already trapping Oscar. She made sure to cast a curse that temporarily paralyzed his magic.

"Hahahaha! Running away? You!? You, of all people!? And nobody has noticed? This... ahaha... this is too good. And you even saved your ancestor, and the other two!"

"Shut up!"

"Whyyyyy? Afraid I'll tell your dady~?"

"He won't believe you. Nobody will"

"Are you sure about that? You have only been able to pull this off for so long because you made sure to not bring any bad attention to yourself. But it only takes a liiiittle seed of doubt to make them start digging for your dirt."

Oh well. Is not like killing him was not an option.

With an easy wind spell, she created a little vacuum that she put near his face. All the oxygen around him started to be sucked in, making breathing almost impossible.

"You... you really... like this guy... egh... ehehehe..."

Oscar ended up passing out due to the lack of oxygen. Sea pondered for a moment if she should just kill him now and pin his death to someone else...

[Well, damn. And here I thought my family was messy]

Get his *ss sea!!! Also this is it! She finally runs from the family!! I’m calling it!!!

[sirensmojo]

"Big Bank!" - Hubby! Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: Big Fluff, Old Money love story vibes.

Summary: Tommy decided to let his wife take care of his Gin. He comes to taste it for the first time after the Gin was met with great success.

A/N: We stand for a caring & trusting Thomas, sorry not sorry.

*Masterlist*

It was a windy day when Tommy entrusted you with his Gin distillery.

The sun was out, as your children were running around the garden, their giggling easing his mind. His head dropped backward on the garden chair as fingers of one of his hands were fidgeting with his cup or whiskey, as a cigarette was locked in between his lips.

Spring was early this year, much to your family’s pleasure. Spending time outside was something you loved to do, and knowing Tommy’s busy agenda, you made sure to make every family moment the best one.

No need to say time flew so fast, the days becoming months, becoming years.

Tommy and you was an evidence. From the day you bumped into each other in the London’s library his sister Ada used to work, you were inseparable. Thus you didn’t know each other for very long, but everything between you made this fact questionable.

You were acting as if you knew each other since children, a single look and you understood what the other thought. Not too many words were said, but not too many words were needed.

Although you weren’t Tommy’s first wife, you were “the perfect two”, making all the people you knew jealous and envious.

“My love,” you announced your presence when coming closer to the garden table as your husband was eyes closed. “I did some thinking.” You added, catching his attention.

Tommy straightened back his head and he was now facing you as you seated in front of him, glimpsing from afar of your three little boys.

“You know I don’t like your whiskey or any type of alcohol, truly.” You raised your brows, and he puffed on his cig, waiting for you to continue. “I want to make Shelby’s Gin.” You let out outright.

No need to turn around your wish, by the way he shifted position you already knew he was ready to hear anything, and you didn’t want to disturb him from his peace. You knew how he dearly appreciated those little moments in which he didn’t have to think about running a business or dealing with dirty gangsters and rude people.

“You want to do what?” He raised a brow not too sure he heard you well, but when he caught eyes of your lips curling at the corner of your mouth, he knew he had heard it well.

His family was his haven of peace and you would do anything to take off some weight off your Shelby’s shoulders. it was a regular task, a daily basis habit that you quickly took and that you’ll probably never lose.

“I already tried a mixture.” His deep voice accentuating your smile.

“It’s my turn now, you played enough with that, you need to focus on real business now. Put your mind elsewhere and let me fill my bottles.”

You couldn’t quite put your finger on what changed precisely, but you noticed a shifting in your husband’s expression along with the gleam animating his iris.

You thought it was worry.

You lost your father a few months ago due to lung disease and your mother died long ago when you were the age of your own children, and as an only child, you were now all alone without your parents.

Gracefully you had Tommy and the kids because if you hadn’t you didn’t know how you would’ve handled this loss.

As being a sensible cord, your husband didn’t bring it up, and he wasn’t the type of comforting people with words anyway, but he tried it his way, which means he bought you a ridiculous amount of new jewellery and books because he knew how much you liked to read and how you were a simp for big diamonds.

Incidentally, Tommy always found it funny how much time you spend with your nose in books while having a voracious appetite for jewellery. He would never miss an occasion to make fun of you when catching you reading as you had to wear glasses, and it was all funny and stuff till he too, had to wear glasses to read.

Now, in bed, you looked like two old people, instead, you were reading adventure and dramatic novels whereas he was stuck with political subjects.

“Okay.” He didn’t hesitate a single moment which made you smile.

“Okay?” you repeated, your smile growing as seconds passed. He straightened back, leaning over the table to you and his hands reached for yours.

You intertwined your fingers together with ease, sparkles spreading at the tips of each of it.

It was that way with every of his touches. He just had that power over you, which you were proud of as it was just love. It could never be anything else.

His deep blue eyes were anchored into your Y/C/E’s ones and you knew he was trying to bring you comfort. He knew what it felt like to lose people, and was ready to give you whatever if that meant to ease your pain.

You neared your faces and he ran his thumb over the end of your nose, down to your lips as cupping your cheek with his palm. Tommy’s head was slightly tilted to the side, his only purpose being to reach your soul with either his touch or his soul hidden behind his iris.

You leaned your head into his touch and closed your eyes for a second, enjoying that moment between the two of you as the breeze made its way to your neck under your mane.

Now, nearly five weeks later, all Birmingham was only speaking of the Shelby family as the people making “the good priced good gin” according to what you heard in the streets. From the fancy restaurant to the underground pubs, everyone in town had tasted of that oh so liked liquor.

Tommy first heard how good the gin was by his brother Arthur. He, who liked to get drunk all day long and all night long, was always keeping a bottle of it in his car or even on himself.

Then it was Ada, always offering him a drink of it whenever he would visit her.

(...)

It was 4 in the afternoon when Tommy walked through Charlie’s yard to join the Gin factory, when opening the door he was surprised to see you, seated at the old dusty desk filling paper and sipping on several cups.

Your husband frowned, “Y/N?”. He didn’t know if he should be worried or glad to see you working in such a place while drinking a lot knowing you’re not even a drinker in the first place.

You lifted your gaze to him and a huge smile instantly warmed up the atmosphere in the space, “Tommy!” You exclaimed as you got up. Being a bit dizzy you were strongly holding onto the table while getting up but you wanted to join him, and that’s when Tommy noticed your reddened cheek and little eyes.

“You’re drunk,” he stated, concerned. His expression shifted. He seemed a bit worried as he took one of your wrists to help you walk correctly.

You waved your free hand before you as to blow away his remark, “I was trying a new mixture for the Gin.” You informed him. You slid a hand into his rough one and stepped backwards, to the desk. “Here, choose one and tell me.” You proudly pointed to each of the cups. “This one on the left is spicy, the middle one a little too sweet for the Americans, this one to the right is the version that is out, and the last one is a bit strong. If the sadness hit too much.”

“The sadness?” Tommy asked while grabbing the third cup, being the gin that was already out. He was quite startled by how implicated his wife seemed to be, he didn’t actually think she would invest that much time and energy in this activity, but he was relieved she found a reason to get up every morning other than their beautiful family.

He knew how living a life without having or serving a purpose was meaningless and boring, even more, when being saddened by something you can’t control such as the death of a loved one.

The Shelby brother will sleep better now, knowing his other half found purpose somewhere, even if seeing her drunk was a sight he could never get used to…

At this moment, he felt the need to feel her skin under his touch before doing anything else, and that’s what he did, putting his hand at the end of her back, he pulled her closer, his thumb rubbing her skin over the fabric of her dress.

Tommy then drank from the cup and took his time judging the taste of it.

He opened his eyes and dropped the cup on the desk before turning to his wife, she was looking at him, impatience spreading all over her face. She seemed ready to hear Tommy’s opinion on her Gin... On their gin.

The blue-eyed man grabbed her face in his hands and pressed his forehead to Y/N’s. She closed her eyes a couple of seconds before opening them to a staring Tommy. He was fondling her cheeks with his thumbs before exhaling deeply, “I now understand why everyone’s talking about us, Shelbys, being fucking genius’, eh” He got distracted by her lips.

“This,” he pointed to the bottle standing at the corner of the table, and, once again, Tommy got distracted, he noticed words were present on the bottle down the name. “Distilled for the eradication of incurable sadness.” He read out loud.

A faint smile was found on his face before he agitated the bottle in his hand. He was proud.

He put down the bottle and directly sealed his lips to Y/N’s, the calling for love being too loud to resist.

That was exactly why it was her and no one else, she was always unpredictable and versatile. Who would have thought his bibliophile wife could be a real gem in the making of gin?

She put away, gasping for air before looking him in the eyes, “What? Did I never tell you the fact that my grandpa was making alcohol?” She teased his lips by speaking inches away from them, “I know one or two tricks. That’s why it’s selling well.” She concluded before pressing their lips together eagerly.

“This is a big bank, yea” He succeeded at saying in between two kisses.

[luverofralts]

Arkhelios University

“This wedding turned out pretty well, don’t you think?”

Roman shrugged as best as he could while dancing. Years ago, he’d be cringing with embarrassment to be seen dancing with Jorah, but now that Jorah was married and Roman was about to be, who really cared what people thought? Abe had run off to empty the contents of his stomach, but had insisted that Roman stay at the reception to throw off suspicion.

“For a Helios wedding with a formerly dead groom, I’d say that it’s going really well,” he agreed, allowing Jorah to spin him around.

“Is Abe having a hard time with morning sickness?” Jorah asked quietly, trying not to alert any eavesdroppers with potentially scandalous news. “All the books I’ve been reading say that it shouldn’t last too much longer. You guys are really lucky to be having another kid. It’s a great blessing.”

Roman looked surprised for a moment, but quickly surmised Jorah’s source for their pregnancy news. Ulyssa couldn’t keep a secret to save her life.

“We’re excited, but yeah, the morning sickness has been rough,” he replied. “Apparently it was really bad with Theo, or so he keeps telling me. I didn’t really get to spend much time with him when he was pregnant before.”

‘Oh, the morning sickness was pretty epic,” Jorah laughed, spinning Roman once more. “He destroyed our main bathroom a few times. Is he having an easier time with the pregnancy than with Theo? I remember Adam being concerned about him and making us promise to call him if Abe was having serious complications.”

“Really? My uncle?” Roman said, completely surprised to hear that one of his relatives had dared defy Malika’s single minded quest to force Abe to lose the pregnancy. Adam had already provoked his father by taking Darcy’s last name, it made sense that he might have been sympathetic to a scared, pregnant teenager.

If Grandpa even is his father. I’d love to grab a Ouija board and ask Grandma about that rumour.

“Yeah, Adam’s a great guy,” Jorah replied. “Valerian and I have been to see him a bunch of times. He’s always compassionate, which isn’t a common trait around here.”

“To help get pregnant?”

Jorah looked surprised for a moment to know that Roman was aware of his troubles, but then rolled his eyes when he thought about the number of people he’d told.

“Ulyssa?”

“Ulyssa,” Roman confirmed with a laugh. “Sorry if that was supposed to be a secret. She may have been shopping around for sperm donation, which Abe didn’t seem to take very well.”

“I’m going to kill her,” Jorah groaned. “I’m so sorry- I don’t know how to reign her in when she gets an idea in her head. She promised to stop.”

“Abe wasn’t thrilled, but if you need...anything, we could probably work something out,” Roman blurted out quickly, unable to think of a more polite way to offer to father a child. “I mean, if you don’t mind my mother’s genetic inheritance. I’d imagine that’s a deal breaker for most people.”

Jorah’s face turned an impossible shade of red at the thought of having a little baby Bellamy of his own. His teenage self would have died of happiness, but those days were far behind him now.

“Thanks, we’ll keep that in mind. We haven’t given up hope yet, but that’s a very generous offer.”

“Your family has done a lot for mine, and so have you, so...it’s an option to explore. But I’m sure you won’t need it.”

An awkward silence fell between the two men as the song they were dancing to came to an end. Jorah was still mortified that his sister had asked her ex-lover and the boy he’d had a terrible crush on to father a child with him, while Roman wasn’t sure how to follow up a proposition like that with casual conversation.

“Roman! Over here! It’s me!”

To Maura’s absolute horror, Claudia began waving at Roman excitedly, calling attention to herself when Maura had pleaded with her to try to remain unnoticed. Maura had found her too late. Her cousin clearly had some scheme to reunite with Roman Bellamy, though Maura couldn’t understand why. Whatever had happened between them years ago was in the distant past, and Claudia knew he was engaged. Roman and his demonic nature would be appreciated by the shadowy forces that supported Claudia’s claim to the throne, but Maura repeatedly tried to tell her cousin that Roman would be a terrible candidate for a royal spouse. He had struggled with the demands of being married to a duke, and Maura had watched first hand as his feelings for Abe smothered his relationship with Adrian. She wouldn’t watch that train wreck overtake another cousin’s life.

“Claudia? I mean, Your Majesty? What are you doing here?”

Roman stared in shock at the queen of Pleasantview, who was waving like an idiot at him. Beside him, Jorah looked like he was taking mental notes about the complex network of exes Roman had made.

“That’s the queen of Pleasantview?” he gasped. “Can you get me an autograph? Oh, do you think she could sign my copy of Pleasantview: a History? I’m just past the chapter where Brandi Broke has disappeared and her son returns from a foreign war and the illegitimate demon princess kills her father to establish a ruling council instead of a monarchy and the Goths! She’s related to the Goths, Roman!”

“Any of us could be related to the Goths, they died off centuries ago,” Roman scoffed, though he knew for a fact that isolated Arkhelios was nowhere near historical Pleasantivew. “Drop your book off later if you want, I’ll try to remember to ask her to sign it.”

“Her grandfather was a monster,” Jorah said with fanboyish enthusiasm. “She looks so normal! After what he did to Maura’s ancestors- it’s amazing that those two are so close.”

“Monstrous grandfathers are more common than you’d think,” Roman shot, giving Jorah a weary look. “Excuse me, I’d better go say hi before Maura has a stroke. She looks like she’s going to explode.”

“Oh, it’s that girl we watched Roman make out with on television. She sure seems excited to see Roman again. She’s single too, if I remember my gossip right.”

Nathan had somehow managed to sneak up beside Abe without him noticing. Abe had returned from the bathroom just in time to see what was sure to be tomorrow's gossip first hand. He was far too busy watching his fiance greet his ex-girlfriend to notice Nathan.

“I wonder why she tagged along with Maura?” Nathan mused, elbowing his brother suggestively. “Maybe she’s looking to reminisce about the old days with your fiance. He does look happy to see her again.”

“Go to hell Nathan,” Abe growled, trying to look nonchalant. Roman did look happy to see Claudia again, he couldn’t deny it. “Is anyone ever happy to have you around? I doubt it.”

Nathan shrugged, still smiling.

“Gareth doesn’t seem to mind me,” he teased. “Oh, and Josh and Steven, among others. You’d be surprised how many of your string of disappointed exes prefer me over you.”

Abe shook his head, mystified as always about how his brother chose to live his life. Nathan was just trying to provoke him, and Abe had lived with Lucy long enough to know an obvious ploy for attention when he saw it.

Still, there was no denying the chemistry between Roman and this foreign queen. Roman didn’t really talk about the people he’d dated or slept with, since the conversation tended to turn towards Roman asking him about all the men he’d slept with, especially when they’d been dating. Roman’s friendship with Ulyssa was no problem as Ulyssa was married and Roman had no desire to start up an affair with her, but a very single queen with wealth Abe couldn’t even dream of? How did Abe compete with that?

Roman’s popularity among rich, attractive people was one of the few reservations Abe had going forward with a permanent joining between them. No matter where he went, Roman seemed to attract a dedicated group of people who would jump into bed with him without a second thought. Would feeling Roman’s emotions when propositioned by a powerful monarch be something he could endure? What if Roman cheated on him and they were stuck bonded for eternity, but divorced? All of the hundreds of fears Abe had felt the moment he had sealed his deal with Malika all those years ago came flooding back to him. Was he making a mistake marrying Roman? Would the demon sovereign punish them for backing out of their wedding if that���s what they decided? Could he really make Roman happier than someone who lived in a literal palace? 

Abe couldn’t make out what Roman and Claudia were saying, but they were both laughing, probably at some inside joke from their days at a posh boarding school Abe couldn’t afford to send his son to.

As Ulyssa began a new song, Claudia grabbed Roman by the hand, and dragged him towards the dance floor. To Abe’s surprise, his fiance didn’t even glance his way before wrapping his arms around the young queen.

It’s just like when he dances with Ulyssa. It doesn’t mean anything. We’re having another kid together. He loves me. This wedding will end, and she’ll go back home and he’ll come to bed with me. He’s marrying me.

Abe wasn’t thrilled with where Roman’s hands were placed on his dance partner’s body, but he refused to let Nathan know he was jealous. He wanted to rush over and steal Roman away from the monarch, but there was no way he could pull that off without looking like a jealous asshole. The instant he accused Roman of being inappropriate with someone was the instant Roman reminded him of his own history of infidelity. Roman had never cheated on him, or on Adrian for that matter, while Abe had personally seen his betrayal choke out every hopeful part of Roman until he was a sobbing mess on their bedroom floor. There was no way he would emerge unscathed from a jealous accusation, no matter how he felt. He would just have to trust his fiance.

“Things look like they’re getting steamy,” Nathan remarked, disappointed that Abe hadn’t taken his bait. “Do you think Roman would dance with me like that or does he save all of that for the rich and powerful?”

“It’s none of your business, Nathan. Why don’t you stick to dating every single person I’ve ever talked to? Whatever you think is going to happen with you and Roman isn’t going to happen. Stop embarrassing yourself.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Abe saw Maura waving at him, trying to get his attention. He nodded at her to show that he saw her, and she gestured towards Roman with a frustrated look that he returned. Maura beckoned him to join her and Abe began walking towards her, patting his brother irritably on the shoulder as he left.

“Try to have fun,” he said, ignoring Nathan’s scowl. “Maybe you’ll find someone drunk enough to want to dance with you. If you can’t get one of my exes to come with you to the next family function, you can always try tracking down Lucy’s exes.”

[allisondraste]

Cockroaches and Other Things That Just Keep On Living

Fandom: Mass Effect

Ship: Female Shepard/Garrus Vakarian

Word Count: 4019

Summary: It's only been two weeks since the Reaper War ended, and the Alliance is already trying to bury Shepard.

[Click Here for A03]

Two weeks.  It had only been two weeks since the war ended, since that devastating flash of red light burst from the Citadel and bounced off every active relay in the galaxy, since the Reapers fell dead in space and the Normandy crash landed on some tropical little human colony world just on the edge of the Terminus Systems.  It had just been two weeks, but the Alliance and the rest of the whole damn galaxy were already willing to declare Shepard dead.  And to add insult to injury, they’d  given Garrus the great honor and privilege of hanging her name up on a memorial wall in some trite ceremony to make the crew feel better.

“There isn’t anyone who could’ve been at the epicenter of that blast and survived,” Hackett had explained, far too matter-of-factly. “It’s time for us to move forward.”

“Shepard isn’t just anyone,” Garrus had replied, and then promptly told the admiral where to shove his plaque. It was not his finest moment.

Now, he sat in the mess hall, alone and staring down at the dextro-amino rations he’d barely touched. The bastardized version of some overly seasoned human dish would have been unappetizing even if he had an appetite. But he didn’t.  Something about the person he loved being declared dead left a sour taste in his mouth.  He’d only even tried to eat because Liara insisted, and he wasn’t in the mood for another well meant lecture about taking care of himself.

No longer willing to bother, he shoved the plate away from him with the back of his hand, and looked up in just enough time to catch Williams walk past him.  She stopped, performed a proper about-face and marched up to his table.

“Hey,” Ash greeted him like she’d never spoken to him before in her life.

“Hey,” Garrus replied and watched as she shifted uncomfortably and darted her eyes around the entire room before meeting his gaze.

She motioned to an empty seat across the table from him. “Can I— I mean, do you want some company? You just look—”

“Like I’m one news vid about the ‘late’ Commander Shepard away from going postal?” He let out a derisive snort. “Yeah.”

Williams smirked and  eased herself down onto the bench without waiting for him to agree to her company. “I was going to say ‘like shit,’ but that works too.”

He answered her dryly. “Gee. Thanks.”

There was a pause in conversation, then Ash tilted her head in that sympathetic way every human who knew him seemed to do since Earth. “Seriously though… how are you holding up?”

I’m not , Garrus thought, but the words didn’t make it to his mouth, just sarcasm.. “Didn’t realize you cared… or is this just one of those human things where you pretend to care for my benefit?”

She leaned back and raised an eyebrow. “Do I seem like the kind of person who pretends to do anything for anyone’s benefit, especially yours?”

He laughed. “Fair.”

“Listen, this is off the record but… Hackett had that mouthful coming.” She laughed and shook her head. “I’m just glad it was you that said it and not me because, well, I like my job.”

If anyone had told Garrus that one day, he’d have a heart-to-heart with the human woman who’d spent their entire first mission together shooting daggers at him from across Normandy’s shuttle bay, he’d have said they were crazy.  But there they were, raw from the absence of someone who meant so much to the both of them.

“It’s been two weeks,” he muttered, looking down at his hands. “ Two. They haven’t even found her bod—“ he tried and failed to choke back the lump in his throat,  but continued talking anyway, glancing up at her— “It’s too damn soon, Ash.”

“I know,” came her firm reply as she reached across the table.  She hesitated for a split second, but then let her hand fall on top of his.  Deep brown eyes welled up with tears that she tried to blink away.  She let out a frustrated huff as one rolled down her cheek anyway, then cleared her throat.  “ Damn. Pretend this isn’t happening.” “Pretend what isn’t happening, Williams?”

“Perfect,” she remarked, wiping her face with the heel of her free hand and laughing. “Kind of hard to believe it’s only been three years since we tracked down Saren.  Feels like a lifetime ago.”

“And look at us now, being mostly civil,” he said with a sigh, staring down at Ash’s hand.  Alien as it was, it reminded him of Shepard’s, strong to be as small as it was, with too many fingers.  He recalled the many times those fingers had traced the hard edges of his face, how that hand had fit so comfortably into his (after a few clumsy attempts, of course).  He’d take another missile to the face to hold it again.

“You know, Shepard worked her ass off to convince me it’d be fine having aliens on board an Alliance vessel,” Ash observed playfully, pulling him from his thoughts.

“You? Paranoid over a handful of non-humans? I’m shocked .”

“Nothing personal,” she explained,“Just didn’t feel comfortable sharing a station with a guy whose grandpa probably shot at mine during the War.”

“Hate to break it to you but—” he leaned back in his seat— “My grandfather was just a run of the mill C-Sec officer.  All he would have done was write your grandfather a nasty citation. ‘Being human in Citadel space,’ used to be a finable offense.”

“God,” she said with another laugh, “Back then, I rolled my eyes and told Shepard I’d do whatever she wanted me to do. ‘You tell me to jump, I ask how high.  You tell me to kiss a turian, I’ll ask which cheek.’”

“We don’t really have cheeks,” Garrus corrected, laughing when Ash shot him a pointed look, “But that’s beside the point.  I’m guessing Shepard never followed through with that order.”

“No, she told me, and I quote, ‘Nobody’s going to be kissing any turians on this mission, Ash,’” she said in her best Shepard impression, then muttered, “Fucking liar.”

“Well, to her credit, I don’t think she planned on me being so… irresistable.”

Ash snorted and rolled her eyes. “Okay, ladykiller .”

There was another pause in conversation, and her expression fell.  She looked down to where her hand still lay on his. “Back then, I just assumed you’d jump ship as soon as things got rocky, as soon as we— as Shepard — really needed you, but…” She trailed off, grip tightening around his hand.  “You never let her down, not once.  Not even when I—”

“You didn’t let her down, Ash,” he argued, sensing where she was headed, “She never thought that.”

“Yeah, well I do,” she snapped, words clipped, “I should have seen the signs that Cerberus had her pinned down, but I let my ego get in the way.  I’m surprised she wanted anything to do with me after that.”

“You’re not the only one who has ever screwed up trying to do the right thing,” he reassured her, “Shepard, of all people, understood that.”

“That’s… you’re probably right,” she nodded and looked up at him, “Thanks. And for whatever it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

“Uh, sorry for what?”

“For ever believing you weren’t an important part of the crew,” she stated seriously, then smiled, “And for calling you birdbrain  behind your back.”

Garrus’ mandibles flared in amusement, and he gave her hand a few friendly pats. “No harm done,” he said, then paused for a beat, “Besides, you didn’t hear what I said behind your back.”

One of her eyebrows shot up. “You talked shit about me?”

“So much.”

“Whoa, whoa, wait a minute,” shouted a familiar voice from across the mess, causing them both to snap their heads toward the sound. “Somebody get this heartwarming moment on camera.”

Ash stiffened, retracting her hand quickly and stuffing it under the table. “Joker.”

“Hey, Joker.” Garrus waved. “How are you doing?”

“Fine,” he answered, words pointed. “You know, aside from the soul-crushing agony of my girlfriend dying. ”

Garrus had spent enough time around humans to know that the Flight Lieutenant looked rough, even for someone who’d never cared about keeping up appearances.  His eyes were red, the skin underneath dark enough that even the shadow cast from his hat couldn’t disguise the lack of sleep. He made his way unsteadily to the table and sat down next to Williams.

Garrus opened his mouth, preparing to speak, to express sympathy, but Joker cut him off. “And before you start with any of that ‘I understand how you feel’ crap— no you don’t.  Everyone knows you can’t say Shepard’s dead until we’ve ID’d the body.  Maybe not even then. She just keeps living… like a cockroach. ”

“You know you could just say, ‘I’m not doing so hot,” right?” Ash scolded him,  but there was still a softness to her voice. “You don’t have to be an ass about it.”

“Yeah, but see… being an ass is way more my style.”

The table went completely quiet as Joker crossed his arms over his chest and scowled, tension palpable enough it might as well have had mass.  Not one for tolerating awkward silences, Garrus ventured a question. “What the hell is a cockroach?”

Ash smiled, clearly thankful for the change in subject, and began to explain. “They’re these—“

“ Beetles ,” Joker cut her off, “Big, disgusting ones that are supposed to be able to survive extreme conditions other organics can’t.”

“Sounds about right,” Garrus admitted with a shrug.

The pilot flinched and glared at him. “Wait. I called Shepard a disgusting beetle and you’re just okay with that?”

“Are you kidding? Why wouldn’t I be,” he asked sarcastically, “It actually explains why she kept molting. ”

“You’re having fun. Stop it,” Joker whined, scowl deepening, “Stop having fun!”

Garrus laughed and threw his hands up in surrender. “This isn’t exactly my idea of fun. My cockroach is missing.”

Joking though he was, his words were honest, something Joker must have detected.  His expression softened even as he puffed his chest out. He deflated immediately as another familiar voice called out, likely interrupting whatever barrage of barbs he’d prepared to hurl at Garrus. This time, it was Vega who strutted over to the table carrying an entire fifth of some sort of human liquor.  Cortez trailed solemnly behind him, examining the rectangular objects in his hands.

“Yo, don’t tell me the party started without us,” shouted Vega, setting the alcohol down on the table with a loud clank , pointing a thumb back at Cortez, “Esteban here took forever polishing the name plaques.”

Garrus stiffened at the mention of the plaques, knowing full and well there had been one commissioned with Shepard’s name on it despite all his protests. Turned out, the Alliance brass didn’t give a damn about some loud mouth former C-Sec officer or his feelings after all. He just hoped none of the humans were able to read the pain in his expression— a hope that was in vain if the sympathetic glance Cortez gave him was any indication.

“What’s that for?” Ashley pointed to the bottle of amber liquid Vega sat on the table.

“What do you think,” Vega asked, as if his intentions should have been completely clear, “I’m going to pour one out for the commander.”

“All over the Normandy's floor?” She raised her brows at him.

“Nah.” He gave her a dismissive wave. “Just down the sink or somethin’.”

She picked the bottle up and examined the label more closely. “But…this is expensive stuff, James.”

“Don’t care,” came Vega’s indignant response, “It’s for Lola.”

Ashley gave him a solemn nod, seeming to understand whatever peculiar human tradition he was planning to perform. Satisfied, Vega turned his attention to Joker, snagging his cap, flipping it around, and placing it down on his head backwards. Joker cursed and grumbled, calling Vega a bully among other things, but Vega just smiled and walked over to Garrus, giving him a supportive clap on the shoulder.

Slowly, the rest of the crew began to filter in, each with their own expressions of concern.  Traynor and Tali arrived together, deep in conversation if the emphatic hand gestures were any indication.  They both quieted as they arrived at the table, Traynor frowning and bowing her head, whileTali approached and slid comfortably  into the seat next to Garrus.

She looked down at the uneaten food and back up at him, giving him a nudge with her elbow and complaining. “You are wasting all of the good dextro rations.”

“Good? Oh, come on,  we both know it’s garbage.”

“Well… yes, but it’s digestible garbage,” she said, holding a finger up to make her point.  Her voice softened when she continued. “And you’ve hardly eaten anything the past few days.”

He sighed and looked down at the rations. “Yeah.”

Tali observed him for a second, eyes glowing behind her helmet. She then grabbed his plate and slid it toward him. “Eat up, Vakarian. Or else I will have to feed you myself… with a spoon I am pretending is the Normandy.”

Garrus let out a laugh despite himself. “I don’t think that’ll work, Tali.”

“You don’t know that.  You haven’t heard my engine noises.”  She laughed along with him for a few seconds, then grew quiet once again and gave him a gentle pat on the back. “The Alliance is going to feel very silly when Shepard gets back and they have to explain why they hung her name up on the wall and sold her hamster.”

“ If she makes it back this time.”

“She will,” Tali asserted, voice cracking, “She has to.”

It was Javik who entered next, voice booming in a debate with Liara, who had taken it upon herself to explain human customs for memorializing the dead. He shook his head and ignored her entirely, stating that if he wished for a history lesson, he would ask for one.  He then snapped his many-eyed gaze to Garrus.

“You should not be saddened about Shepard’s fate, Garrus.  She died with great honor.”

Liara let out an exasperated sigh, and sat down in one of the empty seats at the next table over, bringing her hand to her face.

“What is it, asari?” Javik snapped, “Honor in death is something turians hold in high regard, is it not? This should be a great comfort to him.”

“Perhaps with time,” Liara explained,”But right now it is… insensitive.”

“It’s nothing my dad hasn’t already told me a dozen times,” Garrus stated flatly, “I appreciate the sentiment.”

Weird that a fifty-thousand year-old Prothean reminded him of his dad.  Then again, Castis Vakarian was as about as traditional as turians came, and they butted heads on almost every subject, including but not limited to: Garrus’ disregard for rules, his decision to leave C-Sec—twice, his “risk- and attention-seeking” behavior, and his “absurd infatuation with a human woman”. Their relationship had always been strained, to say the least. Still, he had always been there when Garrus needed him, and listened when it mattered. He was the first call Garrus made from the medbay after the Reapers were destroyed, when he realized Shepard might not be coming back.

He’d been sympathetic, but not even remotely comforting, not unlike Javik was at present. Garrus just didn’t have it in him to explain to either how little he cared about the honorable nature of her sacrifice, the high esteem the galaxy now held her in, or the way history would remember her. None of that mattered when she wasn’t at his side.  How could he be proud, when all he felt was empty?

Once all parties arrived and settled in, the group spent time talking and sharing memories. The Alliance crew members all told stories about encounters with Admiral Anderson, how he more often felt like a parent than a commanding officer, and how his reputation was so much larger than his ego. Traynor did most of the talking about EDI, their friendship, and how seamlessly she’d fit into the crew, how easy it had been to forget she was an AI. Joker just pulled the bill of his cap down to cover his eyes.  Then, the reminiscence moved to the commander.

Every single person present had a story about Shepard, about how she went above and beyond the call of duty to help them, and to make sure they were taken care of while aboard the Normandy.  Shepard had always taken time to check in with the people who worked for her, even when the galaxy was falling apart and herself along with it.  She was a good leader, arguably the best, and an even better friend.  It was clear that everyone in the room admired her, and that she was missed.

Garrus knew he should say something, tell one of the many stories of the trouble he and Shepard had gotten into together. The others all watched him expectantly as he scrambled for words.

“I—“ he began, but was interrupted by the buzzing of his omni-tool, followed by several bright flashes of light. He cursed and pulled up the interface to silence the damn thing.  An urgent message alert flashed on his screen, and he tapped the icon to open it.

From: Dr. Chloe Michel

Subject: Jane Doe

Dear Garrus,

I hope this email reaches you, and that you are still alive to read it.  I am on the Citadel working with an emergency medical unit out of what is left of  Huerta Memorial. The blast from the Crucible caused some severe structural damage near the epicenter, and we have been searching the area to find and identify survivors and remains.

There is a Jane Doe here, who I believe you might know. Please contact me on a private channel whenever you are able.

Take Care,

Chloe

His heart sank like lead into his gut as he read what could only be a request to come in and identify a corpse.  The space around him was suddenly too full, too loud, and the curious eyes of his companions lingered on him for far longer than comfortable. He tapped the display on his omni-tool once again to close it, glancing around the room from one set of eyes to another.

“It’s nothing,” he lied. The truth would only cause unnecessary alarm he wasn’t equipped to handle at the moment.  He stood abruptly, a jolt of pain coursing through his leg that was still recovering from a fracture, and excused himself. “Just need to make a quick call.”

“Now,” Liara asked, frowning, “But the memorial ceremony was just about to begin.”

“So start without me,” he snapped and made his way to the main battery.  He’d apologize later, when his world wasn’t caving in.

The battery doors shut behind him with a familiar hiss and he sank down into his seat next to the workbench where his favorite rifle lay surrounded by tools and unused thermal clips. It had taken a beating in the battle on Earth, and Garrus had poured over repairing it in the days following its end.  He hadn’t touched it since.  There were no more enemies to fight, and the gun just reminded him of Shepard.

Bringing up his omni-tool once again, Garrus established a link using the information Michel provided him.  He only waited a second or two before a voice on the other end picked up.

“Garrus,” exclaimed the woman, “I am so glad you received my message.”

“About that Jane Doe,” he began, cutting straight to the chase, “I— do you need me to identify the b— her ?”

“No… it is Commander Shepard,” she explained, “I am absolutely certain.”

“ Oh, ” Garrus said with the breath he’d been holding.  He was glad he was already sitting down, as the last shreds of hope he’d been clinging to slipped from his grasp leaving him dizzy and sick.  It was Shepard.  She was dead. There was nothing to be done about it.

He took a minute to collect himself and his thoughts, cleared his throat and told the doctor, “I, uh…I’m not really sure how to— I mean, I guess I should make funeral arrangements. That’d be better than letting the Alliance—“

“Garrus,” Michel interjected firmly, “She’s alive.”

“ What,” he asked, more loudly than he’d intended.  Hoping nobody had overheard outside, he lowered his voice and continued, “I mean, how is she? What’s her condition? Is she going to—”

“I won’t lie to you,” the doctor interrupted again, “Her injuries are serious, and she has been comatose since we found her.  Still, her vitals are strong and stable at present. She is a fighter.”

“She is.”

The line was silent for a beat then Michel spoke up again.  “I had a wonder… Shepard’s body has, ehm… extensive cybernetic modification. More extensive than I have seen. We are not certain how, or if it is even possible to repair all of the damage.”

One name came immediately to mind. “Miranda Lawson.”

“Pardon?”

“You need to contact Miranda Lawson,” Garrus clarified,  “She is an ex-Cerberus operative, the scientist responsible for Shepard’s upgrades. And a friend. She will be able to help. I can send you her contact information.”

“Good, yes. I will contact her immediately,” Michel replied, relief noticeable in her voice. She then sighed and said, “I apologize for sending such a vague email.  I am realizing now that it was likely… anxiety provoking. I simply did not wish for the wrong people to find out about Shepard’s survival.”

Garrus huffed, “Yeah, if the media caught wind of this, it’d be a circus.”

“That is what I feared,” she agreed with a sigh, “Besides, I thought you should be the first to see her. I know she is important to you.”

“Thank you, doc. For everything.”

“It is the very least I can do.  I owe my life to the both of you. Twice over, now it would seem:”

“I’ll get to the Citadel as soon as I can.”

“Talk to you then.”

The call ended with a beep and Garrus shut off his omni-tool display, staring blankly at the wall on the opposite side of the room for several minutes, attempting to recover from the emotional whiplash the last half hour had given him.  He took a deep breath, rose to his feet, and headed back out to the mess hall.

All eyes turned to him as he made his way toward the memorial wall just outside the elevator.  EDI’s and Anderson’s names had already been placed, tears already shed. Now they looked to Garrus, Cortez approaching with the name plaque meant to commemorate Shepard’s death. He took the polished silver plate and examined it, light glinting off its corners as he stepped up to the wall.  For a long moment he traced the letters of a name that had come to mean so much to him, to those crowded in the narrow hallway around him, to the hundreds of thousands who’d cheered from ships in the massive fleet she’d rallied and led to victory, and to the billions of lives she’d saved across the galaxy.  Shepard deserved so much more than a name on a wall.

And now, just maybe, she could have it.

Garrus would have preferred to keep  Shepard’s survival to himself, to snag her from the hospital and elope to some secluded tropical paradise where nobody could ask anything of either of them again, except “Would you like a refill on that incredibly alcoholic beverage?” But he knew he couldn’t do that.  After all, he was not the only one who loved her.

Lowering the plaque, he turned to face the others, all of whom looked at him with a mix of confusion and concern.  He glanced down at Shepard’s name again, mandibles flaring out reflexively as relief and excitement swelled in his chest.

“They found her.  They found Shepard,” he told them, bringing his eyes to meet their gazes as he spoke. “She’s alive.”

[adhdeancas]

for trans man!dean, him mcfuckin dipping to totally transition how he wants then posting up at a family reunion as his badass self with Sam proud of him? also cas comes as his plus one/emotional support/husband idk

mcfuckin love how you worded this. here you go, more trans dean for everyone. minor trigger warnings for a little bit of dysphoria and a little bit of transphobia

Dean didn’t tell anyone when he went away. He just left. Wasn’t anybody’s business, and it’s not like anybody cared enough to keep up with him. 

Sam was too busy with school and work, Dad was too busy being a drunk asshole, and, well, there weren’t many other people who gave a shit in Dean’s life. 

The only person he told was Bobby, and that’s because Bobby would’ve hunted his ass down just to kick it if he just stopped showing up at the garage. 

Sam texted every few months, sure, but Dean always got by with vague answers. He didn’t tell Sam that he was having top surgery, or going on hormones, or shacking up with a hot former-priest in Canada. Nah, not important. After all, he’d told Sam he was a dude years ago. So he shouldn’t be too surprised. Right? 

Except then he has to go to this stupid Winchester Family Reunion.

“Dean, it’s going to be okay. They love you,” Cas placated him for the thousandth time. He came over and fixed Dean’s tie, which Dean resolutely batted away. He was the one used to fixing Cas’s tie. He glared at his boyfriend. 

“You don’t know them.” He said quickly. He stomped over and flopped down face first on the gross motel comforter they’d rented out halfway to Bobby’s. (Dean wanted to just power through, but Cas insisted on making a road trip out of it. He hadn’t been on many.) He let out a muffled moan out of frustration.

Cas rolled his eyes. “Well, that’s why we’re starting with Bobby. Baby steps, right?”

Dean sat back up and cringed at his boyfriend. “Yeah, baby steps for me and giant leaps for Bobby.” Cas smiled and sat on the edge of the bed. He looked like a freaking doctor visiting a patient, and it was so cute Dean wanted to end the conversation and pin him to the mattress instead. 

“Bobby knows you’re trans, right?” he asked patiently

“Yeah.”

“Then it shouldn’t be that big of a surprise to him that you look a little different. I mean, it’s been two years.” Dean grinned at him. Cas had a way of making everything seem so manageable. 

“Sure, just a little bit different. Two boobs lighter and a beard heavier.” He gave Cas a shit eating grin and looped a leg over him, sitting back on his heels. 

Cas pursed his lips, running a hand over Dean’s stubble. “I don’t know, would we call this a beard?”

Dean growled at him and leaned in for a kiss. “Hey, asshole, aren’t there better things you could do with your mouth than talk?” Cas laughed and kissed him back. 

“You make a good point.”

They left the motel room a little dirtier than they found it.

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

Dean spent a full minute pacing back and forth behind an old clunker before he ran up to the front door and knocked. Cas eased up from where he’d been leaning against the Impala and joined his boyfriend where he was now awkwardly drumming against his thigh. “Do I look okay? Do I look-uh-” he faltered, not sure how he wanted to look. Did he want to look like a guy? Or enough like a chick to look like his old self, so Bobby would let him in? 

“You look great.” Cas reached for his hand but Dean stole it away so he could turn around when he heard the door opening. 

“...hello?” Bobby asked gruffly. Dean grinned and put his hands on his hips, then down at his sides when he realized he didn’t want to emphasize how wide his hips were. 

“Hi, uh, Bobby. It’s… it’s Dean?”

Bobby did a double-take, and then Dean shifted uncomfortably. He knew he was looking for what Dean used to look like in how he looked now. He cleared his throat. Bobby blinked at him. “Well, shit, Dean. You- uh- you been working out, kid?”

Bobby pulled Dean into a bone-crushing hug, laughing. Dean pulled away with just a grin just as big. “Lil’ bit.” He said, blushing. “Oh, uh,” he stepped back and grabbed Cas’s hand, pulling him forward. “This is Cas. He’s- he’s my boyfriend.” Dean was absurdly more nervous to admit he liked guys (again) than he was for Bobby to see him post-op. Would Bobby still believe he was a guy if he was queer too? 

“Shit, a boyfriend? What, you got a mortgage too, you hiding a kid under that jacket?” Bobby huffed and stalked into his house. Cas seemed a little taken aback by his gruffness, but Dean just grinned and squeezed his hand. This was a good sign. They followed him into the kitchen, where Bobby was making coffee and muttering, “What, go away for a couple years and come back a man?” 

Dean beamed. 

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

Dean took a deep breath, and Cas squeezed his hand. He pressed a kiss to Dean’s cheek. “You’ve got this, babe.” Dean nodded shakily. He could do this. 

Surprisingly, he could do this. From the second he walked in the door, Dean took no shit. Most people didn’t give him more than a glance; they didn’t recognize either of the new men. Dean looked for Sam’s messy mop of hair and made a beeline as soon as he recognized it. Easy, when Sam towered over practically everyone. 

“Sammy!” Dean poked his brother in the back. “How the hell are you?”

Sam turned around, his furrowed brows loosening into a look of pure surprise when he recognized his brother. Which of course he did. “Dean!” He hugged Dean, pulling away so he could look at him. “Holy shit, you- you got top surgery?”

Dean grinned. “You know what top surgery is?”

Sam looked offended. “I research.” Dean laughed and lifted up his shirt quickly to show his scars. 

“Pretty cool, right?” Cas laughed at that and Sam turned his attention to the dark haired man standing behind his brother. “Oh yeah, I brought moral support.” He dragged Cas forward with a hand on the small of his back, and Cas thrust out his hand. “He’s a grad student too. I’m sure you nerds have a ton to gab about.” 

Sam rolled his eyes and shook Cas’s hand. “Hey, man, nice to meet you. What’re you studying?”

Dean zoned out almost immediately, keeping a hand on Cas out of comfort. All around the room, his family didn’t recognize him. Usually he’d have people coming up to him, Aunts screeching “Deanna!” and talking about his weight or his outfit or his hair, he’d have uncles throwing him over their shoulders and talking about last time they’d seen him when he was a little girl. Now? Nothing. Clean slate. It felt like freedom. He was him, in front of his family. For once. Then Dad walked up to him. 

“Sammy, who you got there? Thought you weren’t bringing a plus one.” John asked gruffly, suspiciously. Sam rolled his eyes. 

“It’s Sam. And I told you, Jess couldn’t come, she’s got too much on her plate right now.” He reminded his dad quickly that he was dating a woman right now, fuck you very much. 

“Yeah, sorry Dad, that’s my date.” Dean grinned and looped an arm low on Cas’s waist. He felt Cas look at him and he swore he heard him sniff. Motherfucker was checking for alcohol on his breath. He laughed and turned to give him a quick kiss, which surprised him even more. Confidence was a helluva thing. 

John was frozen in place. One of his eyes was twitching like he was overloaded with information. Which, Dean guessed, he was. 

“Dad, Cas, Cas, John,” Dean said, still grinning. Sam let out a snort from his other side. Cas extended his hand coolly. John stared at him as he returned the favor, turning Cas’s knuckles white with the force of his grip. “Oh and I’m Dean, by the way, in case you didn’t get the email.”

Dean extended his hand for his own handshake, and John took it equally slowly. “So you’re just going to show up like this, no warning or-”

“Yup.” Dean said happily. “Now I was promised burgers. Where are the fucking burgers?”

“What have you done to yourself?”

“Upgraded.” Dean shrugged and fixed his jacket. 

“And you’re…” He looked at Cas.

“Into men.” Dean nodded. “And women. No offense, Cas, but women are just prettier.” Cas nodded sagely, and Dean offered Sam a fist to fistbump. Sam did it with a smirk. “Guess you got two queer sons, daddio.”

John made no move. “Burgers?”

“Over there.” Sam answered this time, pointing. Dean looked. 

“Oh over by Grandpa Henry? Sweet. Thanks, Sammy. Wanna join?” He looped an arm around Sam’s shoulders before he could answer and dragged his two best guys toward the food. 

“Dean, hey, I’m- I’m really proud of you.” Sam stopped him and put a hand on his chest, and Dean felt a warm feeling both due to his words and the fact that Sam could pat him on the chest now without it being weird. “I know you’ve had a rough time- I mean, with everybody, with caring what they think- I’m just really proud of you.” 

Dean swallowed a lump in his throat. “Thanks, Sammy. That’s all I need.”

“Jerk.”

“Bitch.”

[godofplumsandthunder]

Twisted Fate

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Cancer, both Bucky and reader have cancer, Major Character death, brief hospital terms mainly reffering to cancer treatment. References to amputation.

A/N: This was written for the lovely @eurynome827​ 2k celebration. I got a lovely quote of lyrics from Hadestown, which I wanted to do something that was based off of the musical, but I couldn’t figure anything out. Then I had a big anniversary come up and this was came out instead. It’s very angsty, I cried a lot, and well I hope you like it.

The low, steady hum of the fan fills the awkward silence. The psychiatrist, newly assigned to the case, still doesn’t feel comfortable. “Case number 32557038” was widely known in the health care center. The whispers and rumors floated their way down the hall, past the copy machine, filling the office with this chilling tale. Some regarded it as a terrible series of bad luck, others thought it was an act of some benevolent God, pouring his rage on this poor couple. Dr. Breynord, after reading the notes on the file, Breynord knew that this case was perhaps the worst case of bad luck she ever saw in her career, and, maybe it was her stubbornness or naive belief in medicine, but Dr. Breynord was going to help this poor man get the peace he so desperately needs.

“James,” Dr. Breynord’s voice breaks the silence of the office, “I’ve read what my colleagues had to say about your case, but, I’d like you to tell me what has happened if you feel comfortable.”

Shifting in his seat, James sighs, with a small nod of the head, he starts at the beginning.

Bucky Barnes was used to change. Granted, it was other people’s change, but it was still change nonetheless. The poor folks that sat next to him each clinic visit changed, his caretakers changed, it seemed as if the whole world changed around him, while he was stuck in some perpetual hell. Every day dragged out in the same dull, and nauseating feeling, and at times, Bucky felt he was in an endless loop, forsaken by some deity he didn’t believe in. But, for however long Bucky has left in this fallen and cruel world, he’ll remember when you walked in, shattering the miserable purgatory he was banished to, he’ll always remember the day you changed his life.

It happened during his first transfusion session after his surgery. His arm, still wrapped in bandage, IV tubing leading straight to his heart, pumped his body full of liquids, as he waited for the toxic poison to enter his body. He always found it ironic, the “medicine” that was supposed to save his life, that was too dangerous for the nurses to touch with their bare hands, was willingly flushed into his body. Hair loss, mouth sores, and muscle aches were the better side effects. He can’t help but think about what is coming, especially as he sees his nurse, Thor, come over with the freshly made batch of poison [STRIKE THROUGH], chemotherapy as his doctor would want him to call it. Hanging the bag on his IV pole, Thor looks over at Bucky, giving him the “I’m going to go on a rant about something you should care about” look. 

“Now James, we’re getting a new patient today. It’s their first transfusion. They’re going to be sitting in the pod next to you. I swear to the gods, I best not hear another complaint about your attitude.”

“Me? An attitude? No, I think you got me confused with someone else. I’m the brightest little ball of sunshine here!” Bucky can’t help but chuckle. It’s not his fault he wasn’t a “warrior”, blasting “Fight Song” 24/7, as he sips on a kale smoothie with coffee suppositories shoved up his ass. T

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, Barnes,” Thor shakes his head as he cleans up his station, “don’t think I won’t throw your bald ass out of here. That cancer sob story, won’t work on me.” 

Bucky goes back to his phone, already feeling the effects of the chemo. No matter how many anti-nausea meds they fed him, Cisplatin always makes him sick. So, he had the right to act like a grumpy old grandpa. While he scrolls through his social media feed, seeing all the accomplishments, brags, and just shit of his friends, Bucky hears your sniffles, as you make your way down to the end of the Oncology clinic, taking a seat next to Bucky. Even if Thor hadn’t given him the heads up, he would have known you were fresh meat. One infusion, his mom asked him how he could tell. It was easy for Bucky, it all had to do with the eyes. A cancer diagnosis shatters you. It kills all hope, light, and goodness that’s in you. You turn completely numb to the world, to the point where your own wailing and sobs feel muted. Bucky saw all of that in your eyes. Behind the puffy, redness, saw the shards of hope, the fear of the unknown. Before you could reach your seat, you stumble, spilling your possessions that you carried all over the floor. Bucky watches quietly as you quickly pick up your items, collapsing into the chair next to him. 

“Sorry I couldn’t give you a hand, only have the one,” he wiggles his stump, and he's met with silence. Talk about a rough crowd, he thinks, his nephews love his stumpy jokes. “So,” Bucky continues, “what are you in for? I’m a sarcoma, in the arm.” You sniffle as you turn your body to look at this new man.

“Leukemia,” you confess, voice barely above a whisper. It takes a real effort to say it out loud because then it makes all of this real.

“That’s good then,” the “sarcoma” man says to you, and Bucky can see the confusion, and pain on your face.

“How is that good? How is cancer good?”

Using his arm, Bucky points around the room, giving you a tour of the room.

“See him, that’s Riley, he has an inoperable brain tumor. That young kid, with the Switch? His name is Peter, his body is chemo resistant. So yeah, leukemia is good. If you haven’t learned it yet, not all cancers are made equal.”

“Oh,” you barely make out. What were you supposed to say to that? 

=====

Much to Bucky’s surprise, he actually enjoyed having your company. Your treatments lined up and so you both got to know each other well. Bucky enjoyed having someone close to his age that understood his problems. And it also didn’t hurt that you had such a great personality, you got Bucky’s dark humor (and it went without saying that you understood it was his way of coping), and you looked great. Not many people can rock a bald head. And Bucky has seen his fair share, and he can say with confidence, you rocked it. Not covering it up with caps, scarves, or wigs. Because why should you hide away? For the first time since his diagnosis, Bucky had a purpose. So, while his immune system allowed him to leave the house, he picked up a bouquet of fake flowers (neutropenia life, am I right?) and a box of chocolates to take with him to the next transfusion. When he got to the clinic, Bucky was a bit worried to see that you weren’t next to him. Instead, there sat Barb, 75 years old with breast cancer. 

“Oh sweetie, are those for me?” Barb looks at the flowers in Bucky’s hand. 

“No!” He snaps, as closes the curtain that surrounds his chair. He hears some huffs and complaints from Barb, but frankly, he doesn’t give a damn. Bucky only has one thing on his mind: you. 

“Are you alright? You’re not here at Club Med” Bucky texts as quickly as his one hand would let him. Dropping his phone, Bucky stares at it all while the nurses prep him. And because of damn, HIPAA, none of the nurses can tell him where you’re at. Minutes turn into hours, and by the time Bucky’s infusion ends, you still haven’t responded to him or shown up at the clinic. 

“Hope you’re okay. Call or text me. I'm worried” Bucky sighs, realizing how much you made his chemo treatments more bearable. How your laugh could make him forget of the poison he had to take, or how the light in your eyes could make him forget, even just for a bit, how much his arm stump was hurting. You were a drug, more potent than any he’s had before, and Bucky was becoming addicted. He’s picking at the hamburger he got for dinner, not having much of an appetite when his phone goes off. Seeing it’s from you, he rushes to answer. 

“Y/N! I… Where were you? I missed you today. I had to sit by Barb and…” The sounds of your cries cut Bucky off. 

“Are you okay?”

“No, Buck. I… Got some bad news today.” 

“Where are you?” He asks. He knows you’re alone, and speaking from experience, you never want to be alone when you get bad news. He knows from experience.

“Buck…” you sigh, “It’s fine. Really.” 

“Please, Y/N, I know what it’s like to be alone after getting this kind of news. Please, let me be there for you.” Breaking further down into tears, you cry at Bucky’s actions, actions of love. 

“I’ll send you my address,” Bucky gathers the flowers and chocolates as he rushes to your apartment, breaking a few traffic laws to get there faster. When he gets there, the image of you, opening the door, eyes swollen from crying breaks his heart. 

“Oh, Y/N,” Bucky sweeps you into his arm, as he closes the door behind, “tell me what’s going on hun.” 

You both sit on the couch, the bag with the flowers and chocolate lay at your feet, as you stay in Bucky’s embrace. 

“I’m… I’m dying Buck!” You manage to say in-between odds. “Dr. Fair... gave me three months to live. There’s nothing else they can do.” You break down in his arms, that last straw finally breaking, as you tell your newfound best friend, the person you were supposed to beat cancer with. Bucky tries his best to remain strong, to be the rock, the foundation you need, but you’re not the only one that is losing a friend. You sit in each other's embrace, as you mourn. You cry for all the missed opportunities, laughs, and memories that won’t be made. 

“What am I going to do,” you whisper, your voice hoarse from crying. 

Kissing your head, Bucky pulls you in closer, “we, are going to make these three months, the best three months you’ve ever had.”

Bucky lives up to his promise, spending every hour he isn’t in the hospital with you. The time you spent together changed your relationship. Neither had to officially say the words to make your relationship official. It was just you, and Bucky. Holding each other close, as the tempest waged on, trying to beat you into submission. You go on walks in the park, picnics, and one night when you both had the energy, went skinny dipping. Your logic being, what are the cops going to do? Arrest two cancer patients, with one of them being terminal? You threw caution to the wind and simply lived. Lived, breathed, and loved. Things seemed to be perfect until reality hit.

Your body wasn’t keeping up. Your cancer was spreading faster than they predicted. The doctors couldn’t give you an explanation as to why the cancer was spreading so fast. It shouldn’t have been. Soon, home hospice came, to try to make you more comfortable. And like the good partner he was, Bucky spent every minute by your side. That’s why, when you felt the inevitable coming, you felt your body give in to the tiredness of fighting, you grab Bucky’s hand. 

“I love you, James Bucky Barnes,” you weakly say, giving him one last affirmation, as you went to sleep, for one last time. 

As Bucky wakes up from his nap, feeling your cold body, he tries to ruse you back awake. Once he realizes what has happened, the last bit of humanity inside of Bucky snapped. He lets out a blood-curdling scream, as tears stream down his face. He strikes your face, pleas escape his mouth. Pleas to you, to a God he has long stopped believing in. His body shakes, his tears wetting your hair, as he holds you for one last time. 

=====

“Oh James,” Dr. Breynord grabs herself a tissue before handing Bucky the box of tissues. “I truly am so sorry to hear that. I want you to know that I am here to help you get happy again, and to heal.”

Bucky sighs and turns away from the doctor as he wipes his eyes. “You’re just like the rest of them. You didn’t listen to me.” 

Breynord was surprised that this was Bucky’s complaint. The other doctors had warned her that Bucky could be sarcastic, standoff-ish, and even flat-out rude to them. Breynord thought she did a good job listening to his story, what did she miss.

“I… I don’t think I understand what you mean, James.”

Bucky lets out a heartless, empty laugh, “you want me to be happy again. I’m never going to be. Not only do I have to live with the guilt of surviving, when she died, in my arms, but I’ll also never find another soul like hers. We had a connection, you know. It felt like we met before. When I held her in my arm, and her arms would wrap around me, it felt like I had the whole world in my arms. I didn’t need anything else when I had Y/N.” 

“So tell me doc, what’s the point of carrying on?”

[mlovesstories]

Time is Money

Summary- YN feels ignored by her dad, Sam, so Dean, Mary, and John try to help. 

Warnings: selfish Sam, cussing

Tag List

Ask Box

Masterlist of Masterlists

“Daddy?” YN came into Sam’s study. 

“I’m busy, baby.” He flipped through some paperwork on his desk. 

“But I need help with my math homework.” 

“Ask Dean,” he said dismissively. 

YN sighed and walked out of the room. 

“Beast?” She tiredly approached her uncle. He could tell the defeat in her voice. 

“What’s up, beauty?” Dean used her nickname. 

“Can you help me with my homework?” YN continued looking at the floor. 

“Hey,” he took his finger and lifted her chin. “No pouting. Yes. I can help you. Show me what ya got.” 

After tears and frustration, YN finished her homework. 

“Thank you, beast,” she hugged her uncle. 

“You’ll always be my beauty. Even when you cry.” He smiled. 

“I love you.” 

Sam entered and was about to go to his room when he stopped and told them he was going to bed. Obviously still upset from her evening, YN sulked. 

“Aren’t you going to spend time with her? She had a rough day.” Dean asked. 

“So did I, and I’m exhausted.” Sam ran up the steps of the house. YN’s face fell. 

“It’s okay. Let’s go relax before bedtime.” Dean stroked his thumb over her hand. 

“No thanks.” YN started toward her room when Dean turned her and brought her into his body, her head hitting his ribs. 

“Yes. You need to calm down before bed. Hard day.” 

“Okay.” 

The ten year-old snuggled into her uncle until she fell asleep. Not having school the next day, Dean didn’t wake her to go to her own bed.

“Dad?” YN slowly entered her father’s room the next morning. 

“Huh?” He rolled over. 

“You said we would be going to breakfast today.”

“Oh I’m sorry, sweetie.” He looked at the clock. . I need to go, thanks for waking me up. Business lunch.” Sam shooed her out of the room as he scrambled to get ready. “Bye, YN!” He yelled at her as she sat on the barstool in the kitchen with a small, bland cup of coffee. 

Dean walked in with messy hair.

“Morning! I thought we talked to you about no coffee, beauty?”

“Yeah, well, he was supposed to take me to breakfast, but that didn’t work out. So I made what I knew how to.” 

“Again?” Dean asked, angry at his brother. YN nodded. 

“He had a business meeting and woke up late.” 

“That idiot.” Dean said to himself. “Come on. I have a later shift at the shop. Bring your computer to keep yourself busy while I’m working. We’re going to breakfast.” 

“It’s 11am?”

“Brunch, then. You wanna go or not?” Dean grinned. 

“Can I get chocolate chip pancakes and have some hot chocolate? PLEASE, beast? I’ll be good at the shop, I promise!”

“How can I say no to you?” He sarcastically sighed. 

“Yes!” 

They enjoyed their time together, and she helped Dean at the shop. She loved seeing her grandpa and all the guys she had known since she was little. They spent time with her and showed her how to do things… unlike someone else she knew. 

“Cher!” Benny shouted to get her attention. “You want to help me?” 

Turning from her computer on the desk, her eyes lit up. 

She practically ran to him. 

“Has your uncle taught you about wrenches?”

“Are you kidding? First thing I learned!” YN laughed. 

“Perfect. I need to go under the car. Can you hand them to me?” 

“If i can go under the car too!”

“We’ll see…” Benny rolled his eyes. 

“Sweet! Yes!” 

“Why did you take her to the garage?” Sam grilled his brother when he got home that night. 

“You didn’t tell us you had a meeting and I had work so I had to take her! I can’t leave the kid at home, you know that. Besides, she had a great time like she always does. Dad and Benny were there, what are you so afraid of?”

“Beast?” YN barreled down the stairs. “Can you-“

“I was talking to your uncle.” Sam interrupted her. “You came in the middle of our conversation without even asking if we were talking.” 

“Sorry, Dad. I didn’t know you were home. Never mind.” 

“What do you need? You might as well say it now.” Her father rolled his eyes. 

“I was going to ask Dean if he wanted to throw the football with me…” she was almost in tears from her dad’s cross attitude. 

“He can’t.” Sam growled. 

YN looked to her uncle, confused. 

“It’s okay, pretty girl. Go brush your teeth and then we can. Promise.” He smiled. 

She raced off to do as he asked. 

“YN listens to you.” 

“Well, yeah.” Dean said sarcastically. “I’m awesome.” 

“Whatever. I have a late court hearing. Gotta go.” Sam gathered his brief case and keys before leaving the house. 

John walked in as Sam left. 

“Grandpa!” YN abounded into his arms. 

“Hello, sweets!” He wrapped his long limbs around her. 

“What’s up, Dad?” Dean walked into the foyer. 

“On my way home, brought some food.” 

YN grabbed for it when Dean stopped her. 

“You just brushed your teeth,” he laughed. 

“Fine, fine. I’ll just put it away.”

“Have a candy bar anyway,” her grandpa whispered. 

“I heard that.” Dean said plainly. “Go, i didn’t see a thing.” He smiled at YN.

She scampered into the kitchen with the bag of food. 

“When will Sam get home?” John asked. 

”i don’t know. He never tells us anymore.” Dean shrugged as he led his dad into the living room.

“What?” 

YN walked back into the room and snuggled into her grandpa’s side. 

“He’s gone a lot.” YN looked at him. 

John shook his head in disappointment. 

“How much does Dad make an hour?”

Both men looked at her, confused. 

“Umm, I think he said $40 an hour?” Dean eyed her. 

“That’s a lot of money.” YN sighed. “Now I get why he doesn’t hang out with me,” she started to stand but John grabbed her jacket on instinct and the force of it made her land back on the couch. 

“You are not allowed to say that.” 

“Grandpa, he is always gone. Forget it. I need to go to bed. School tomorrow. Good night.” YN kissed John and Dean on the cheek before running up the stairs to get away from the tension. 

“He’s losing her,” John stared plainly. 

“Yep. I’m more of a dad to her than he is. I pick her up from school, I watch her, I pack her lunch. I don’t mind doing that. She’s my favorite girl, but he should be there for her.” 

“I’ll talk to him,” John groaned. 

Sam was dropping YN off at John and Mary’s house for a sleepover when John asked to speak to him privately. 

“Hey, I wanted to ask you something.”

“What? Dad, I gotta go-“ 

“Exactly.”

“Huh?” Sam titled his head. 

“You’re always going. When was the last time you had a meal with YN?” 

“Oh, don’t placate me.” Sam rolled his eyes. 

“This is my house and you will be respectful!” John growled at his son. 

“UGH,” Sam stomped out of the guest bedroom. “YN! We’re leaving!” He called out for his daughter. 

“What?” She almost ran into him, trying to follow his voice. “We just got here. I’m supposed to spend the night.” 

“We’re leaving.”

“No. Dean said I could and you did too. I got a good grade on my test, and Grandma said she was going to make me waffles. I’m not leaving.” YN turned to walk toward the kitchen. 

“Don’t throw a hissy fit. We got her. Go do your damn stuff. Remember that she is yours, not Dean’s,  not ours. Yours. Get out of here. She doesn’t want you here anyway,” his dad gritted his teeth. 

Sam’s eyes went wide. 

“Fine.” He walked outside of the house with a huff. 

“Come on,” John guided her to the kitchen.”Don’t worry about him. He’s being an ass.” 

“Hey! Language!” Mary grinned. 

“Grandma, don’t worry. He is old, forgets that I’m ten and shouldn’t hear big person words.” YN started laughing. John threw her over his shoulder. 

“Ah!” YN giggled. Her grandpa softly put her on the couch. 

“You know he loves you right?”

“Nah.” YN said, waving him off. “Dean does. He takes me places and lets me have fun. Dad just wants me to do homework.”

“Sam is very driven. He just doesn’t have his priorities right.” 

“Yeah, he DRIVES me crazy.” YN rolled her eyes. 

“He does love you. I promise. Come on, let’s go eat some dinner,” he smiled. 

That night, YN asked if she could do chores to earn some money. 

“Uhhh.” Mary looked good John, confused. 

“Why? We will always provide for you.” John looked at his grand daughter. 

“My dad makes forty dollars an hour. I need forty dollars so that we can hang out. I’ve already gotten twenty.” 

Her grandparents’ eyes went wide. 

“You don’t have to-“

“Yes, I do. He always says an hour is worth forty dollars to him. So i need forty dollars.” 

“No, sweetie.” Mary walked YN to the couch. “I didn’t know you felt like that.” 

“Well, he doesn’t pay attention to anything unless he is making money.” 

“Don’t you worry. He will turn around.” John walked away into a back room and pulled his phone out of his pocket. 

Sam walked into his house at 11pm. 

“Hi,” Dean said in the dark. 

“Dude, what have I told you? Don’t do that! I’m exhausted.” 

“Mhmm.” Dean rolled his eyes. Sam turned on the lights. 

“Why are you not in your pajamas? It’s late.” Sam tilted his head when he saw his brother in jeans and a Henley.  “Please tell me you are not about to interrogate me. You’re in your interrogation clothes at this time of night.”

“I need to talk to you.” 

“What now? I would like to get my beauty sleep.”

“Beauty would like to get her sleep too, ya know.” 

“Huh?” 

“Your beautiful daughter needs you. She climbs into MY bed, she relies on ME to have the tough conversations and discipline her. I don’t mind doing those things, but you should be doing most of it. You’re her father. She misses you.” 

“Don’t tell me how to raise-“

“I will, because i am doing it by myself, and she isn’t even mine! I love her! I do, but it’s your job. You don’t like it that I take her to the shop? Then you come home. You don’t like it that I make her pancakes three times a week? Come make her breakfast.” 

“Dean,” Sam started. 

“No. You know what she told me? Time is money. So she is trying to earn $40 for an hour of your time, since that’s what you make an hour as a lawyer.” 

Sam was about to bite back, but he stopped. 

“You told her that you are worth forty dollars an hour, and she wants time with you. That’s not fair, Sam. Go get your girl tomorrow morning after she has her damn waffles, and don’t come back without her.” Dean took off his shirt to change into his pajamas as he exited the room, sighing heavily. 

Sam stood in his place for a moment. 

She’s working to earn money? For an hour with me? What have I done to my girl? 

The next morning, Sam picked her up from his parents’. 

On the ride home, he took a detour. 

“Aren’t we going home?”

“I thought we could go shopping for those new shoes you wanted,” he smiled.

“That’s okay, Dad. I can get them later.” 

“You and I are going to have the afternoon together. It will be fun.” 

“Please just take me home,” YN looked out the window. 

“I haven’t spent time with my girl in a long time, so that’s what we are doing today.” 

“Fine.” She said plainly. 

“Good.” Sam decided he would welcome any response he got from her. 

They went to her favorite lunch place. Sam saw a smile reach her face when he pulled into the parking lot. 

She was quiet as they ate. 

“I heard you were earning some cash to hang out with me.” He curiously looked up at YN. She shrugged.

“I wanted time with you.” 

“I didn’t realize how much I hadn’t been paying attention to you. Your uncle set me straight last night. I’ll be better at giving you my time without forty dollars an hour. Time is money, except when it comes to family. Got it?” 

YN didn’t look at him. 

“Hey, I promise.” Sam tried again. 

“I hope you mean it.” YN grumbled.

@katymacsupernatural  @unicornblood4ever  @supernatural-crazed-girl

@fangirl-moment-x  @empirialwolf @winchesters-favorite-girl  @super100012  

 @percywinchester27  @waywardsuns  @supernatural-jackles  

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@seality @jaycc7983 @luci-in-trenchcoats 

@cherryblossomflowers @because-you-never-know-when 

@sleepylunarwolf @choosemyname 

@internationalmusicteacher @mersuperwholocked-lowlife 

@encounterthepast  @torn-and-frayed 

@giggles1026 @xiumin-girl99 

@mangueweaschester

@idksupernatural  @silverstripe101a

@thevelvetseries @jennawinchester152a * @samsgirl93 *    @supernatural3002 *

@tmiships4life * @breereadsthings *  *

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@akshi8278​

[chandelier-s-notebook]

Hello and welcome to a mulit-chapter story! basic info: Tubbo-centric, talk of contracted murder that never goes to fruition, kinda deus ex machina-y

If anyone wants to be part of a taglist for Assassinate But Nah, feel free to message me/send an ask/or mention it in reblogs.

Taglist: @sleepysnails

Ao3 link

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

“Tubbo! My boy! You’re my favorite agent.”

Toby Maron pulls out a chair at a private poker table at Quacksino. “I really shouldn’t be honestly,” he says to the leader of the Jays, one of the Mafia groups in Houver.

“Of course you’re my favourite!” Schlatt says. He gestures to Quackity, who’s acting as dealer tonight, to deal this looks-younger-than-sixteen year old into the next round. “You’re a cop’s son? Those guys never get caught.”

Quackity slides Tubbo a packet of M&Ms before dealing in Tubbo, Schlatt, and his two main lackeys Slimecicle, and Ted.

Tubbo grimaces. “Right.” He opens the packet of M&Ms and separates them into the six colours, acting as the six chip types. “Why am I here?”

Slimecicle looks at his cards and slides Tubbo a folder. “Right here.”

“Thanks.” Tubbo looks at his own cards. “Ten.” He puts his cards down on the table and flicks a candy to the pot. He opens the file, he sighs heavily. “Another assassin job?”

“Oh yeah.” Schlatt grins like the two of them are in on a little secret. “That’s why I like you.” He throws in a chip. “Call.”

Tubbo skims the reference sheet in front of him. “Thomas Rough?”

“Call,” Slimecicle says.

Schlatt’s grin stays on his face. He takes a swig of beer. “What do you know about him?”

“Thomas Rough? He’s the son of Dan Rough.” Tubbo continues to skim the papers in front of him; blond hair, blue eyes, 6’3”. “Dr. Rough was a kid from the Teenage Mall District, bad place for a kid to grow up.” Tubbo thinks back to his memory of headlines and research projects. Dan made some big advancement in microbiology, I don’t know what though. He now has his own lab and a nice house in the suburbs. The Houver Mailer called him a ‘Diamond in the Rough’ in their series on him.”

“Good.”

“Call,” Ted says.

Quackity puts down the flop.

“Two hundred.” Tubbo throws in the equivalent amount of candy.

“Playing it safe are you?”

“Mhm. Shoulda said that with my ten.”

“Call.”

Tubbo continues to rattle off information. “Thomas Rough spends the first semester abroad at Oak Park Academy, a Swiss boarding school.” He glances up from the papers to Schlatt. “Nice. He comes home for Christmas break, then spends the second semester in a local public school: Granite Bay.”

“Something about balancing rich kid privileged education and being a normal kid.”

“Call.”

“I can understand that.” Tubbo eats a couple M&Ms.

“Hey! Don’t eat your chips,” Ted jokes. “Call.”

“Chips? These are chocolate.” Tubbo seems to remember that he’s talking to the top guys in the Jays and shuts up.

Quackity burns the top card and places the Turn.

Tubbo’s eyes flick up. “Add another hundred.” He flips the page. “Who’s this?”

Schlatt puts his elbows on the table and leans in. “Ranboo Alastair. Nothing special about him, but he’s Rough’s best friend during the half year he’s in the city.”

“Does he need to go as well?”

“No. You just need to befriend him while Rough it’s around.” Schlatt looks towards his men. “Call.”

“But will you dispose of him once I kill--”

“Assassinate.”

“Kill Thomas Rough? He’ll be able to point me out in a line up.”

“Ideally, he won’t know that you disposed of his best friend”

“Fold.” Slimecicle slides his cards to the burn pile.

Schlatt continues. “You know Eret?”

“Yeah. Informant on the drag scene.”

“Ranboo’s her little brother. Your mark is Thomas Rough, but befriending Ranboo will be a warning to Eret as well.”

“Killing two birds with one stone.”

“More like killing one, injuring another.”

“Fun.”

“Isn’t it! And you’re a police kid, nothing will happen to you.”

“But won’t Dr. Rough want answers to what happened to his son?”

“We’ll deal with that. You deal with Thomas Rough.”

“Call.”

The next card gets burned and the River gets flipped.

“Five hundred.” Tubbo puts the fold to the side and tried to read Schlatt, not that he wasn’t already doing that. “So I’m supposed to befriend Ranboo, hope that Thomas Rough keeps he around as a friend, then kill him?”

“Yes. Call.”

“Fold.”

Schlatt turns to Quackity. “Burn these. Flip a new five cards please.” He then gestures to Tubbo’s pile of M&Ms.

“One thousand.”

Schlatt looks at his cards once more. “Call.” He sits back in his seat. “We’ll be putting you in Public School, Granite Bay, as you mentioned. You’re junior year I think.”

“It would be,” Tubbo says wistfully.

“If you take it--”

Tubbo cuts him off, “If? I have a choice?”

“If you take it,” he looks Tubbo in the eye. “This’ll be your last job. I’ll be asking your father to overlook first degree homicide. Even his debts have limits.”

Tubbo thumbs at his cards.

Schlatt flips his. He gives Tubbo his first proper smile of the night. “Flush.”

“Blue-Eyes White Dragon,” Tubbo says. He takes great pleasure in how Schlatt is visibly thrown. “I’ll take the job, but my cover isn’t in this folder.”

Ted hands Tubbo another thin packet of paper.

“Tubbo Jacobs?”

“That’s your name for the next year. You’ll be living with Karl Jacob’s, chief editor of the Houver Mailer.”

“He works for you?”

“Yes. He’s getting redeployed on another mission next year, so once you get the job done, Tubbo Jacobs will disappear with him.” Schlatt grabs a few M&Ms from his winning pot. “And Toby Maron will be allowed to go back into public school.”

“But not Granite Bay.”

Schlatt nods and drops the candy in his mouth. “But not Granite Bay.”

Quackity taps Schlatt’s forearm.

“What is it Flatty Patty?”

“The kid wins,” he murmurs. “Hands off the pot.”

“What was that?”

“The kid wins.”

Schlatt scoffs. “The nerve of some people. Fine. Take your candy and chips. Get out of here kid.”

Tubbo puts all his papers back in the manila folder and slips it into his bag. “Yes Schlatt.”

“You have until the end of next summer to get it done.”

“Yes Schlatt.”

“Good boy. Remember. Do the job, and it’ll be your last one. Chicken out, and you’ve still got a few years ahead of you.”

“Yes Schlatt.” Tubbo picks up his chips but leaves the candy on the table. He pushes the chair back in behind him and goes to the counter to cash out his two thousand, three hundred, and thirty bucks.

 “Bye Sapnap.” Tubbo may be an unwilling assassin due to debt, and he may hate it, but he’s still polite. Tubbo walks into his house, eyes downcast. His dad, Captain Maron, is reading in the newspaper. “I’m back.”

He tosses down the paper and comes to hug his son. “How was your meeting at the Quacksino?”

“Good. Schlatt’s sending me to public school.”

“What?” Captain Maron holds his son by the shoulders. “Public school?”

“Yeah. Catch s I have another assassin job.”

Captain Maron’s face falls. “At public school?”

“Thomas Rough, he goes to Griante Bay second semester.”

“Oh.” Jordan’s expression flickers.

Tubbo doesn't have the energy to even try to decipher it.” On the bright side,” he tries, “Schlatt says that this is the last job I need to do for him. Something about debt limits and that you can’t prosecute me.”

His dad gives him a tense smile. “Did he really say that? Or are you paraphrasing for your old man?”

“That’s what he said, he was very clear about it.” Tubbo pulls away and heads to the kitchen. “But you can’t prosecute me. I don’t know what I’m going to do after though. I feel like Schlatt has been setting me up to go crawling back to him for a sense of purpose.”

Jordan looks at his son sadly. As one of the top cops, he’s seen a lot, and he’s seen that very story play out so many times before. “I’m sorry.”

“No. No. Don’t apologize. It’s grandpa’s fault for getting tied with one of the Mafia families. It’s not your fault. He’s the one who died with debt to the Jays.”

Jordan comes to hug his son again. “Get some rest. You’ll have time to brush up before the school year starts.”

“Yeah.” Tubbo grabs himself a bowl of cereal, directly opposing what his dad just suggested. “I’m a new transfer. Tubbo Jacobs. Starting tomorrow I’m going to be living with Karl Jacobs, but only until the job is over,” he reassures his father. “And Lani will still be at home. Think of it as an exchange; like I’m going to school in europe or something.”

“I just. I don’t like the idea of you living with Karl Jacobs,” Jordan admits.

“It could be worse. At least he’s got a proper office job. It’s a good cover.” Tubbo shovels a spoonful of cereal in his mouth. “Relax dad. I’ll be fine. I’ve been fine. I will keep being fine.” His gaze softens. “Besides dad, this case file tells me to befriend some kid. So I’ll get that experience.”

Jordan smiles at his boy and ruffles his hair. “Goodnight son.”

“Night dad.”

- - -

Jordan walks up the stairs and goes to the safe in his closet. He spins the lock and opens the door. He digs up an old photo album and pulls it to his lap. He flips through old polaroids of him and his two childhood friends.

He pulls the last photo out of its clear sleeve. Then flips it to the back and reads the mailing address scrawled on it.

He mutters it under his breath and puts everything back in its place.

Jordan goes to find a pen, a piece of paper, and an envelope. He writes out the address and starts to pen two letters.

Dear Philip Wright, I’ve been in some trouble with the Jays for the past six years. Sorry for not mentioning it earlier. You know me, I’m stubborn. I’m a cop. I thought I had it under control. I don’t. Most of the debt has been worked off, but if you could advise me on how to proceed. That would be great,” Yours, Jordan Maron

Dear Daniel Rough, Just got a tip that Tom is in danger. Yours, Jordan Maron p.s. sorry for never returning your requests to catch up

[wormstacheangel]

Regrets in Heaven

Hello. I was gonna just write the scene with Jimmy but wanted to write Ellen in because Samantha wanted to be in the finale and I love her so much. Oh this is happy ending story btw cause I will never hurt you guys like that. We are in enough pain. 

I should also say, the whole Dean death scene honestly felt like he gave up. To me at least. So I just write Dean like that and he regrets doing so.

Word Count: 2761

Bobby got up from his chair as finished off his beer. Dean looked up at him wondering where he could be going when he just got here, the beer still full from the one crap sip he took of it. “Well come on. Ain’t getting any deader.”

“Is that what we do here? Dead jokes?”

Bobby shrugs easily as Dean starts to follow him towards the entrance. “It’s funny cause it’s true.”

Dean rolled his eyes, a fond smile growing on his lips. 

Bobby stopped mid doorway to face Dean again. “Oh shoot! Wait, Dean, about Ca-”

“Dean!” Dean looked away from Bobby and his eyes widened when he saw the familiar figure walking over to him with arms wide open, welcoming. “Oh come here! Give me a damn hug for keeping me waiting for so long.”

“Ellen,” Dean sighed happily as soon as he was in her arms. His face dipped low to hide in her shoulders. “I’m sorry for keeping you waiting.”

She squeezes him. “Wish you kept me waiting a little longer.” She pulls away and reaches to take his face in her hands. Looking at him as if trying to read his whole life in his eyes. “I’m so sorry it ended this way for you, honey.”

“I’m fine with it.” Dean automatically responded but she must have heard the bullshit in his voice. Her eyebrows raised and she gave him the familiar don’t-you-dare-lie-to-me-boy kind of look only a mom can give. “I’m trying to be at least.”

She smiled warmly at him and patted one of his cheeks, a little too hard, before she stepped away from him. “Yeah, takes a while to accept it but that boy of yours fixed this place,” She motioned to the roadhouse. “Nobody has to sneak around anymore. Ash is out there helping Go-oh, um Jack, with the whole heaven thing. Who knew our Ash would be side by side with the great almighty.”

Dean smiles at the mention of his kid. Trying to picture Ash and Jack working together but the thought of it alone was giving him a headache he doesn’t want to be around.

“Does Jack visit often?” Dean asked while following Ellen to the bar. He sat at a stool and then almost fell off when Jo popped up from behind with a bright grin. “Son of a- For fuck’s sake, Jo! Don’t fucking do that.”

Jo laughed and placed a cold beer on the counter. “Hi to you too, Dean.”

Dean reached across the bar to give her an awkward hug but squeezed her nonetheless. “Jo, still sticking around the roadhouse?”

“For now.” She pulled back to smile at him. “Kinda wanna explore as soon as your kid and Ash fix the whole place up. He’s a good kid by the way.”

“Yeah, he’s great.” Ellen says from behind the bar now. “Called Bobby grandpa once and had him blubbering like a fool for an hour.”

Bobby blushed under his trucker hat, making a noise of distaste but not denying it so Dean laughed. Reaching to touch Bobby’s shoulder. “Hey, the kid needs one grandfather who doesn’t want to kill him. Glad it’s you, Bobby.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Bobby grumbled and they all laughed. 

Soon more friends and family started walking in to visit. First came Charlie and Dean had to force himself to let her go but followed her for most of the time. Kevin came in and Dean picked him up into a bear hug, “Kevin freaking Solo made it to heaven!”

The place started to fill in pretty quickly after that. Dean spent most of the time hugging old friends and catching up with those he lost a long time ago. Even victims they couldn’t save came to visit him to thank him for saving friends and family. It was a crowded house by the end of the day. 

Music blasting and drinks spilling everywhere. There was laughter and life everywhere he looked. It was everything he wanted but he could still feel that knot in his stomach because he knew something was missing. Someone was missing.

Dean needed some air and excused himself from the group to walk outside. Once again ready to pray. Hoping that he could hear him. 

Dean sat back down on one of the rocking chairs and leaned his head back with his eyes closed, a smile on his lips. Picturing his angel smiling back at him, looking back at him with a glow that he always carried. Not his grace but just the pure energy of Cas. 

“Cas,” Dean starts and he could already feel the tears forming. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I gave up on… everything. I should have tried harder to live but I thought that maybe - Billie once told me that when I die I would be sent to the Empty. I hoped - no. I’m sorry I shouldn’t have given up like that. I was weak. I was excited to see you but that was just… just a waste of your sacrifice.”

Dean didn’t say anything as he rocked a few times in silence. Then he took a deep breath as he continued his prayer.

“I miss you. Wish you were here so I can tell you. To tell you everything.” Dean opened his eyes with a heavy sigh and was going to head back inside when he froze. His eyes falling on the person looking at him from across the dirt path. “Cas?”

Dean was already running towards him ready to bring him into his arms but Cas held his hands out to stop him. 

“Whoa! Whoa, Dean, it’s me! It’s um, Jimmy!” Jimmy looked at him with wide eyes and then placed a hand on his chest as he let out a sigh of relief when Dean dropped his arms. “I thought you were gonna tackle me for a second.”

“I-I’m sorry.” Dean saw the face of the man he loved but then noticed the glow was not around him. “I thought you were-”

“Cas, yeah  heard you.” Jimmy motioned towards the rocking chair. “You pray out loud you know that?”

Dean shuffled his feet as he looked down at the dirt. Not being able to look at him anymore. The wrong voice coming out of his mouth. “Yeah, I just wanna make sure he hears me.”

“Yeah? Does that work cause I’ve been praying to him all these years too but nothing.”

“What… what do you want with Cas?”

“I wanna know how my daughter is doing. He promised to take care of her of my wife but-”

“Yeah, sorry about her.” Dean motioned for the rocking chairs. “But I can catch you up on Claire if you want. As her honorary uncle and all that.”

“Oh no,” Jimmy’s face fell at that but followed Dean to the rocking chair’s. Dean was glad the chair’s sat next to each other so he could just look ahead and not at Jimmy. “No offense but I was hoping she stayed far from you.”

“Too bad. She texted me and Cas all the time. Mostly dumb things and her reassuring us that’s she fine.”

They sat there for a while Dean bragging about Claire like a proud father. Not looking at Jimmy the whole time. Even when he went silent or he made a gasping noise because Dean told him the close calls Claire had to go through. 

“And she likes… hunting?” Jimmy asked again and Dean let out a breath of a laugh. “And girls?”

“Yeah. Last I heard she and Kaia were looking for a place of their own.”

“Ah.” Jimmy hummed before he clapped his hands together. “That’s great. I’m glad my little girl is happy and alive.”

Dean hummed with a nod and then they both sat in silence for a while.

“I should get going. Amelia is waiting for me. She didn’t want to come and welcome you.” He stood up and Dean followed after him to walk him off the porch at least. Jimmy turned around to face him and it felt like a punch in a gut to see those eyes. He held his hand out for Dean to take but Dean couldn’t make himself touch him. Jimmy closed his fist and took his hand back. “Okay, well, thank you for taking care of my daughter all these years. I was hoping Cas would be here but-”

“He’s dead.” Dean says it quickly before Jimmy keeps talking about him. 

Jimmy looks at him and smiles. “Yes, we all are.”

“No, I mean he’s not in heaven he’s in the…” Dean couldn’t make himself say it.

“Dean,” Jimmy reaches over and touches Dean’s shoulder. Forcing him to look back at those baby blues that didn’t shine like Cas’s. “Cas was the one that invited me to this party of yours. He said he was going to meet me here as soon as he was done working with God.”

Dean opened his mouth to say something but his mouth went dry. Cas. Cas is here?

“But talking to you was enough.” He says as he starts to walk away again. “When he comes, tell him to come visit when he has time. You can visit too if you like. Maybe next time you can look at me while we talk.”

Dean watched Jimmy get into a car and then disappear from his view. Leaving him dumbstruck but his heart raced in anticipation.

Dean closed his eyes again, “Cas? You have your ears on? Cause if you can hear me and you don’t get your feathery ass down-”

“No need to threaten me. I’m right here.” He hears the familiar voice, deep and rough. He sounded tired and Dean opened his eyes to see him walking over to him. His shoulders hunched over more than usual. “Sorry to keep you waiting. I wanted to be the first to welcome you but we lost Ash in a different dimension for a few minutes and Jack was freaking out. You know how bad that is.” 

Cas fell into the chair in a huff. 

“It was a long day.” Cas finished as he closed his eyes with a sigh. 

Dean watched him. Looked him over once, twice, three times not sure how to move forward with this conversation. Should he continue the small talk or go straight to the unspoken confession. 

“Dean, stop staring. It’s creepy.” Cas cracked a smile and Dean huffed out a laugh, rolling his eyes but didn’t stop looking at him. Watching Cas lean forward on the chair, elbows on his knees, while he looks up at him, his eyes bright and glowing. This was Cas. “Sorry I didn’t answer your prayers.”

“I’m used to it.”

Cas flinched at that. “Yes, sorry.”

“What the hell you’ve been here since-!”

“I don’t want to fight, Dean.” Cas reaches hesitantly to take Dean’s hand. He was gonna pull away but instead he gripped Cas’s hand tightly in his own. “I missed you too.”

Dean walked forward so he could stand in between Cas’s legs. Watching as Cas looked up at him with curious round eyes. Head tilted just a little. 

“You’re so stupid. You know that.”

Cas nodded with a teasing smile. “Yes, I learn from the best.”

Dean couldn’t help but smile back at him as he reached to cradle Cas’s face with his free hand. “I missed you so much, Cas.” Dean feels Cas’s skin under his palm and he feels his chest tighten up. “I thought I really lost you, Cas. I thought-”

“Me too.”

“Cas,” Dean leaned down so his forehead could touch Cas’s own. “Let me talk okay?”

“O-of course.”

Dean smiled as he closed his eyes. Feeling the radiating warmth that always surrounded Cas. Home.

“I love you, Cas.” Dean finally says and it sounds off because his throat feels like he swallowed a bunch of sandpaper but he keeps talking. “I love you and I’m sorry I gave up on life when you sacrificed yourself for me to live. I just… I wasn’t thinking. I was dumb. I’m so sorry.”

Cas quickly let go of Dean’s hand and then pulled him down to make him awkwardly sit on his lap. Dean was going to protest the whole thing out of instinct but he took a deep breath to calm down. Letting Cas cradle him to his chest and hold him so tightly, comforting him with the touch Dean craved for years. 

“Dean,” Cas starts as Dean starts to relax in his hold. Feeling Cas lean down and press his forehead down on Dean’s own. “I love you so much and I’m so proud of you. You worked so hard and deserve a break. Deserve peace but death is not the answer.”

He was going to open his mouth to agree but Cas pressed a kiss on Dean’s forehead. Making him melt and quiet.

“I will have Jack send you back.” Cas continued.

Dean opened his eyes to argue. He already missed all his friends and family that were still inside the roadhouse partying like it was 1965. 

“No arguing. I want you to live, Dean. I want you to find your peace in life. You deserve that.”

“No.” Dean firmly said as he gripped at Cas’s shirt. “Not without you, Cas.”

Cas smiled and let his lips hover over Dean’s face for a few seconds before Dean tilted his head to finally bring their lips together into a long awaited kiss. Dean reached to cradle Cas’s face in one of his hands as Cas held him in his arms, wrapping tightly and securely around him. Promising to never let go again. 

“You should go enjoy your party.” Cas says as he pulls away just enough for Dean to breath. “I’ll send you back in the morning.”

Dean clings to him again, hand in Cas’s hair, as he tilts his head to taste his mouth once again. “I want to stay with you.”

Cas hummed as a response with a smile and Dean knew that wasn’t an answer.

Dean positioned himself to be straddling Cas, shocking him in the process so Dean took that opportunity to kiss him once again. Slowly at first before deepening it, feeling Cas’s tongue against his own felt like he was finally in heaven. They made out like that for a while longer before Dean pulled away, Cas making a small whine as he did so.

“Come with me?” Dean snuggled their noses together as he left little kisses all over the angel’s face. “Stay with me? Grow old with me?”

Cas' smile grew bigger at the words. “Of course.”

They both laughed into their next kiss, a tingle of excitement running through them. They are gonna live a long happy together on Earth. Dean will get a job and Cas can do whatever he wants to do as long as he was asleep in Dean’s bed at the end of the day. 

They went inside to enjoy their family's company and before the sun rose the next day, they were both back on Earth. 

Scaring a mourning Sam and Eileen who were ready to set Dean’s body on the logs for the hunter's funeral.

Jack flew down with them and they had a big family breakfast at a local dinner, after the reunion hugs and tears of course. 

“So you and Cas?” Sam nudged Dean as they walked out of the dinner. The brothers watched Eileen and Cas signing to each other too quickly for either of them to keep up while Jack stood between them finishing the lollipop that the waitress gave him, as he grinning inconfusion. Just as lost as the brothers.

“He wants to be human with me.” Dean tells him, sounding just as breathless as he felt. Still in disbelief that an angel actually loved him. “I love him, Sammy.”

“I know.” Sam chuckles. “I’ve known for a while.”

Sam walked ahead and wrapped an arm around Eileen’s shoulder to pull her in close. She hit his arm for interrupting them but Sam leaned down to kiss her. Being forgiven easily. 

Cas stretched out a welcoming hand out and Dean took it quickly, twining their fingers together and bringing Cas’s hand up to his lips for a kiss.

“Okay, let’s go home.” Dean loudly announced as he looked around his family’s faces. Remembering the faces of the family that were waiting for him upstairs and grateful for the family he has here on Earth. He would make this life worth it. Happy. 

Tag List: @galaxycastiel

[fic-chi]

50 Follower Milestone “Thank you” Prompt list because I don’t check the number of followers enough!

Holy Fuck, guys! Thank you so much! I’m so sorry for not posting anything in godknows how long so here it is! My biggest list to date! My wlw brain kinda jumped out for some, but please feel free to change up the pronouns to male or gn!

*Fluff/Angst Prompt List*

“Hey, if you need to get out of here, just squeeze my hand 3 times, ok?”

“Would you still love me if the world was just made up in my mind?”

“Fuck you! That’s my partner and they are the love of my life regardless of whatever image you’ve projected onto me!.”

“My love for you burns like a thousands suns and...you know what? This poetic shit isn’t my style. Wanna go grab a coffee?”

“Babe, I love you so much, but you didn’t have to buy me 100 of my favorite flowers.”

“And everyone thinks my favorite flowers are the same as my grandma’s, but it isn’t. I just said that so my grandma can have twice the amount of flowers.”

“Listen, when you meet my parents, do not finish your plate or they will fill it back up and feed you to death.”

*buys and peels like 7 crates of fruit because my pregnant wife craved fruit at 3 am*

“Here’s the kitchen, the living room, our bedroom, and my office where I write my little morning poems to my wife.”

“This is the 7th time you’ve asked for a cuddle, and it isn’t even noon yet.”

“My son thinks I’m into this niche interest like him, but I haven’t a clue what anything is and just like spending time with him. Off-topic, do you watch this show called Naruto?”

“When my kids have a bad day, I pack an extra fruit snack in their lunch.”

“I’ve been using a food service to deliver cooked meals to my elderly neighbor who’s widowed. She thinks it’s one of her kids, but it’s been me all along.”

“My grandpa called me over to his house to give me his 4 giant change jars that he’s been collecting for my college fund.”

“Kiss me again. I need to know this is real.”

“We can’t be sure if the curse is broken so kiss me like until midnight.”

“Your eyes are so beautiful.”

“This was a great idea. Let’s get married again in our next life.”

“Look at the lotuses. See how they persevere despite starting their life under the water? That is us right now, and, one day, we will see the light like the lotus flower together as we are meant to, my love.”

“Shut up, and hug me already.”

*in a drunken stupor* “Don’t ask me to spend the night or I might stay forever.”

“I wanna grow old with you. I wanna watch a thousands sunsets with you.”

“Just as you breath life into your work, you breathed life to my mundane and ordinary life.”

“My love, let’s run away together. We can make a new start with just us, and no one can keep us apart.”

“Sometimes all you can do is your best, and that’s ok.”

“Just give me your hands! How could you forget to bring mittens?”

“Here just,” *pulls s/o into their jacket, “Better?”

*wakes up from a fever dream to find s/o sleeping next to the bed with a tray of medicine and juice*

“Heaven is doing all it can to keep us apart, but I promise to come back to you.”

“He told me he would come back as the first blossoms of spring.”

“Are you running a fever?” *pulls their forehead to touch theirs*

*holding their hands* “Don’t get the wrong idea! I don’t want you to get lost.”

“It’s ok to want to be loved, my dear.”

“Every face, every identity, every life you’ve had, my love, I have always found you.”

“I love you. I love you more than there are stars in the sky so please don’t forget me.”

“I will always come home. Have I ever lied to you?”

“If you hold the calligraphy brush like this,” *holds the brush and their hand* “You have more control over your strokes.”

*tucks their hair behind their ears* “Why do you hide this beauty?”

“It’ll be faster if I carry you.”

“These calloused and rough hands do so much to ensure my happiness, and that is why they are also the most beautiful hands in the world.”

“Rest now, love, for I will take care of the rest.”

“I don’t know why I love you so much. I just know you make me feel safe.”

“There is something about you. I just can’t stop thinking about you, and it’s driving me crazy.”

“Thank you for being the only one to listen to me. Like truly listen to me.”

“I feel like I’ve known you forever. Is that crazy?”

“What are you doing to me? When I see you, my heart skips over a beat, and when you speak, that’s all I hear.”

“Human emotion is a heavy burden, but it isn’t one you need to carry alone, love”

“And when you inevitably leave me, will you still love me?”

“One day, when the earth reclaims my body, search for me in the sky and in the stars for I will always watch over you.”

“Waking up to see you sleeping next to me is the greatest ‘I love you’ I will ever receive.”

[bonniebird]

A version of home (Part Two)

Masterlist

“Still going?” Dean asked as he came into the kitchen. He was rubbing black oil off his hands as he headed to the fridge for a drink.

“Yeah Bobby manages to pack this stuff in. I found two curse boxes and they’ve only been gone… four hours?” You said with a fond sigh as you set another pile of boxes and books on the kitchen table.

“You know he’d never admit it but I think he appreciates the effort… he seems happy you’re here.” Dean said quickly. You nodded as he popped open his beer and the two of you stood in the awkward air that seemed to choke Bobby’s kitchen. You weren't used to other hunters that weren’t years older than you. It was strange that someone else had a familial bond with Bobby, the way you did. 

“Well, I think that i’ve found some weapons in the back of the book pile so… I’m going to go.”

“Yeah. urm...” Dean said gruffly. “I should get back to work.”

It took a couple more hours to get the books sorted into the piles Sam had suggested. Now they took up a large amount of space in the living room. Although while you’d been sorting you had found four, flat packed, sets of book shelves. Several knives, guns, boxes of hand crafted bullets and other weapons that you weren’t too sure about. You had been curious about Bobby’s other spare rooms and tried to poke around. You were abruptly stopped by the door of the first room barely opening enough for you to see the boxes and books blocking the door. “Damn Bobby! There must be hundreds of books in here!” You muttered to yourself.

Deciding you’d surprise Bobby with the new shelves, you headed down stairs. Pausing at the bottom step and sighing. You still had to figure out what to do with all the weapons. Organising Bobby’s books was one thing but if he had to hoard some weapons he kept them in the basement or in his car. It was the one thing you didn’t mess with when it came to Bobby. You weren’t sure how you felt about Dean or if you felt comfortable enough to ask him for help.

 Sam seemed nice, once he got over the awkwardness of, clearly, being asked by Bobby to get along with you. It was like being a kid again. But Dean seemed more rough around the edges. You understood, it was hard to trust other hunters.

“Hey, Dean?” You called as you headed out into the back of Bobby’s house. The maze of cars outside seemed to have grown like the hoard of books. Following the sounds of Dean working on the Impala, you found him near one of the less run down work sheds. “Dean?”

“Yeah?” He said as he glanced at you.

“I had a question about Bobby’s weapon collection. I’m not sure he even remembered he had half that stuff that I found in the spare room. Maybe… you could look them over, I’d call Bobby and ask what he wants me to do with them but I don’t want to interrupt their hunt.” You explained.

“You don’t know what to do with them?” He asked dubiously as he finished his fiddling and stood up, brushing his hands on his jeans.

“I put the weapons for vampires and werewolves with the others in the basement already but my family were kind of experts at vampires and werewolves. Outside of a few ghosts and a couple ghouls. I haven’t hunted much else.”

“Oh, yeah Bobby mentioned your grandfather was pretty famous for hunting vamps. I can help you out.” Dean sounded surprised that you’d asked him for help. He followed you up to the spare room where you’d layed out all the weapons on the bed, along with a few more spell boxes.

“Most of these you can just put in the basement. This one, also this. I think Rufus needs one of these for a succubus. I got a call from another hunter earlier, they were looking for Bobby and I'm pretty sure these two would do the trick… I actually think I made this knife. Had to add a bunch of stuff to it for a hunt. We can find someone to run the knife down but Rufus will need this as soon as possible.” Dean said after he had looked everything over. He sounded a little sentimental over the last weapon that he picked up and flipped over in his hand.

“I think Rufus is still on a hunt nearby. He keeps saying it’s his last one. I’m surprised he even called Bobby when he saved me from the werewolf, after what happened between him and Bobby.” You muttered and Dean nodded. He gave you a quizzical look but knew better than to pry when it came to Bobby and his friends. At least until he had Sam to help him.

“We could see how the tune ups worked on the car and head out, drop these out with Rufus…” Dean offered. Bobby had left him with the specific instructions to befriend you. He didn’t want you running off on a hunt and he figured if you were going to tell anyone, it would be Sam and Dean, seeing as neither would object to going along on a hunt with you, instead of stopping you from going.

“Sure, sounds… good.” You said nervously. Dean grinned and hurried to put the hood of the Impala down. While he gave the car a final once over you grabbed a duffle bag for the weapons and set all the phones to answer with Bobby’s prerecorded message.

“Rufus is only an hour out.” You said as you climbed into the front passenger seat. Dean was already waiting in the car. “I got a text from Bobby saying he should be back with Sam in a few.”

“Great, an old friend is passing through so if we’re not too long with Rufus we should be able to drop the last weapon off and pick up dinner at the diner on the way back.” Dean offered and you nodded as you set the bag in the footwell while staring at your phone.

“Someone phoned Bobby asking if he had a book… apparently Sam thinks he saw it when he was helping me.” You mumbled as you text Bobby back.

“Bobby probably has every book under the sun at this point.” Dean replied as he started to cruise out of Bobby’s backyard and down the street.

“Bobby said you guys are looking for your dad. I’m sorry you’re having a hard time finding him.” You said suddenly after a few moments of silent driving. Dean cleared his throat and shifted in his seat.

“We’ll find him. Or he’ll find us, I’m sure It’ll be fine. He’s a great hunter.” Dean answered quickly.

“I think my grandpa hunted with one of your grandparents. Some vampire big nest.” You muttered. Dean frowned at you, assuming you’d mixed him up with someone. Maybe the Garth kid that Bobby talked about.

The rest of the drive was awkwardly quiet. Though Dean was pretty pleased he’d solved the squeaking issue. It’d be awhile before he had to hang round Bobby’s and fix the car up. He noticed that as he drove closer to the meeting place with Rufus you got more nervous. “So the last time you saw Rufus he was saving your life?” Dean jokes.

“Actually, he stayed when I was in the hospital. He was yelling at Bobby about letting me hunt a werewolf pack alone. I didn’t know it was a pack at the time and Bobby had been trying to get me to slow down for a while. I just sort of lost it.” You explained and Dean nodded. He’d gotten to the motel Rufus was waiting at. He was packing up his own car and waved at Dean as he pulled up.

“Hey, Rufus. We’ve got that weapon you needed.” Dean said as he clambered out the car. You were a little slower getting out of the car.

“Dean, nice to see you.” He glanced over Dean’s shoulder as you fumbled with the weapon in your hand. “(Y/N), glad you recovered ok.”

“Yeah. Nothing a good hunter can’t recover from.” You said quietly. While you shuffled your feet Dean cleared his throat and nudged you. “Here!”

“Thank you. Caught wind of another hunt. They just keep on coming.” Rufus complained as he took it and set it in his truck.

“You know, considering that you’re trying to retire…” You pointed out and he tutted at you.

“I would have been well out of the game if it wasn’t for you.” He warned playfully.

“Well, I’m not hunting for a little while. Bobby, he… wants me to take it easy for a while.” You explained. Dean shoved his hands in his pockets and started admiring the cars, scattered in the parking lot. 

“Glad to hear it. I know you’ve lost a lot but I’d rather not be losing you.” Rufus saif with a soft, genuine tone. He gave you an affectionate hug and petted your head as he nodded to Dean. “Hopefully I won’t see you kids around. Take care.”

“You take care too, Rufus.” You said as you waved at him. He gave a short wave before driving off to his next hunt.

“So, ready to head home?” Dean asked as he turned to you.

*****************

“Hi, do you take out?” You asked the smiling woman at the counter. She looked exhausted and as if the day had been hard for her.

“We do, we have a take out menu. We no longer do delivery.” She said and her eyes looked strained as if she was waiting for you to complain.

“Great! We’re not too far away. Dean, they do take out but only collection.” You called to Dean who was finishing swapping the weapon from Bobby’s for some sort of magic object to do with demons. You didn’t really track when he started going into the demon things on the way back to Sioux Falls.

“Great, we’ll take two of the pies from the special board and… What do you think Bobby and Sam will want?”

“Um… Sam likes the healthy stuff right?” You asked and Dean agreed, ordering a large salad and something that was sloppy, a dubious green and game in a lukewarm cylindrical tub.

“I think Bobby will want the burger or something.” You said to Dean in a sheepish tone as you both stared at the tub while the server behind the till gave you the plastered smile.

“You’re onto something, want one too?” He asked, much in the same tone, wincing at the tub which bubbled for a moment.

“Yeah sure…”

Getting your full order took a while when Dean added more and more to the list. But eventually you managed to get back home to Bobby’s. The lights were on and you could see Bobby’s truck parked neatly as Dean pulled up beside it.

“I can’t believe the food is so… weird.” You muttered as you held the two paper bags of food.

“Sammy’s food looks like it’s alive.” Dean muttered and you laughed.

“You two seem to be getting along.” Sam pointed out as the two of you headed inside. You had the bags while Dean had the drinks and a sketchy looking homemade ice cream that was apparently made in store at the restaurant. There had been a long debate about why they called it homemade when it wasn’t made in someone's home.

“Yeah, we went to the dinner that’s in town. Since it was bought out… it’s gotten a bit weird.” You explained as you started to set everything out on the table. Bobby joined Sam who hurried to dump his notebook on a pile of books near the table. As you set Sam’s food in front of him both you and Dean watched him intently as he opened it. He started spooning the food into his mouth without hesitation.

“Well you owe me five bucks.” You muttered to Dean.

“Hey, it could still get him!”

“What are you two talking about?” Sam asked dubiously as he looked suspiciously at the two of you, then his food.

“Sam, your food looks alive.” You muttered and he rolled his eyes.

“It’s better than what you three are eating.” Sam offered up.

“Sammy you’re eating flubber!” Dean insisted. The three of you continued to bicker over the food long into Dean’s massive desert. The bickering was ended by Bobby insisting that the three of you had to build the new shelves that you had routed out in the now nearly empty spare room.

[we-are-inevitable]

not moving on, not looking back // ch. 9

A/N: FINALLY GOT ANOTHER CHAPTER UP AHHAHAHAAAA i hope you guys like this!!

Read On AO3!

“David! I’m getting a divorce!”

That is decidedly not what David had expected to hear at 7:45 on a Thursday morning, but at least Katherine seems happy about it. It takes a few moments for him to fully process the gravity of the situation, but David is quick to adapt, raising a brow and staring at her with a confused smile. “Uh- huh, that… Wow? Good? Oh no? How- How do I respond to that?”

“Good! It’s good!” Katherine squeals as she sits down, on top of one of the spare desks stored in David’s room. She already looks different, more carefree; she’s wearing her hair up, has on bolder makeup than usual, and is wearing a pair of fitted slacks, heels, a blush colored blouse and a blazer rather than her typical dress. “I’m checking in at the motel for a while until I can find myself somewhere to stay, but we talked it out and he agreed with me and everything is fine, so, yeah! Last night was the last time we’re ever going to sleep together, so it was a special occasion and I’m a little hungover, but don’t tell anyone,” Katherine chirps quickly, looking at David with a wide grin.

That is a lot to take in. He looks at her as he leans back against his desk, crossing his arms in front of him. “I’m sorry, did you say you slept with Jack after agreeing to divorce? Like, slept in the same bed?”

“Nope. We fucked.”

“I-- Wow, okay. Kath, that’s not a mental picture I needed to see.”

“Unless you think about Jack alone, right?”

David nods before he can stop himself. As soon as he does so, his eyes widen and he immediately shakes his head, staring at Katherine as his jaw drops. “Wait, no! No, no, I don’t-- What? No, that isn’t-- I’m not-- No!”

Katherine doesn’t look convinced.

David hesitates for a moment before giving in and sighing, hiding his face in his hands. “Look, Kath, I am so sorry… It’s just- It’s a stupid little crush. Nothing substantial, and nothing happened, I promise. He doesn't even know, and--"

“Wait, you think I’m upset?” She asks with an amused tone. “David, this is the best thing that’s ever happened to us! I think you two would be really good for each other.”

“Shouldn’t you be the one to know that your husband is straight?” David asks with a raised brow, then blinks. “Unless-- No, no, I don’t want to hear any more. If something is going to happen, then I want to hear it from him first. I don’t want to speculate.” He runs a hand through his hair and sighs, then looks at Katherine. “What… What are you trying to say?”

“I’m trying to say that this is something I give you permission to pursue. Not that you need it, of course; you’re a grown man. You can do what you want,” She says simply, before standing and taking a few strides toward David. “But if you like Jack, then I want you to go for it. I won’t mind. I don’t know how he’ll feel, I don't know if he'll feel the same way, but… it’s worth a shot.”

David looks down at her with a hesitant look, before giving a sharp nod. “Noted. Thank you… I just-- If and only if he feels the same. I... don’t want to be a rebound? I’ve been in that situation. It’s never, ever good for my mental health.”

“Then take things slow and see where it leads," Katherine says gently, then bites her lip. "But I’ve known Jack since sophomore year, Davey, and he isn’t the kind of guy to do something like that. I promise,” She murmurs  sincerely, gently squeezing David’s shoulder. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go do some paperwork.”

David watches as she walks toward the classroom door. He thinks for just a moment, and opens his mouth before he can stop himself. “Hey, Kat?”

“Hm?”

“Stay with me until you find a place,” David says simply, looking at her with a grin. “Don’t waste your money on a motel. I have a spare bedroom you can take, so… Stay with me. It’s the least I could do, since you’ve helped me so much these last few weeks. I-- My sister is coming into town this weekend, so I’ll be sleeping on the couch, but the spare room is yours.”

Katherine considers it, then smirks. “I hope you’re ready for all night Gossip Girl marathons.”

“As long as we throw a few episodes of Glee in, I’m down.”

“Trashy reality TV?”

“A must have, obviously. Sappy romcoms?”

“I have a whole box of DVDs,” Katherine grins, then gives David a wave and walks toward the door. “I’m staying with Hannah tonight- she's a friend of mine. Works with Jack," She explains with a broad sweep of her hand. "But I’ll see you tomorrow! Get ready for some Blake Lively action!” With that, she leaves the room, giggling down the hall.

David shakes his head as she walks away, letting out a content sigh. For once, he feels... Good. Excited. He’s looking forward to Katherine staying over, for as long as she needs to, of course. It would be good. He has… a friend.

That’s the first time it really hits him that he has a friend. Katherine and Jack are his friends, his real friends, and David is so glad to have them in his life.

But he needs to check up on Jack.

That afternoon, David says goodbye to Katherine in the office before heading outside the front doors. He walks down the sidewalk for a few moments, but stops in his tracks when he sees a familiar deep blue truck in the parking lot, and hears a familiar deep voice softly singing along to an old Johnny Cash song.

David grins to himself and walks toward the truck. His smile only grows wider when Jack notices him and rolls the driver’s side window down, waving. “Davey! Hi!”

David shakes his head, hurrying toward the truck. “What are you doing here, cowboy?”

“Well, ya see, I was gonna pick up my ex, but she told me she was workin’ late while I was already here, so I decided to stay and pick up the only adult I know who doesn’t own a car,” Jack says with a smirk, hanging one arm out of the window. He’s still in his professional "I'm A College Professor, Respect Me" clothes- navy slacks, a white button up with the sleeves rolled to his forearms, and a navy vest. He seems to have already taken off his tie, but he’s wearing glasses and oh, God, David is weak at the knees.

“See, I knew not owning a car would come in handy,” David teases back, leaning up against the door of the truck. “I am the responsible and economically-friendly adult who doesn’t own a truck that emits tons of carbon emissions into the atmosphere each year that you’re talking about, right?”

“That’s the gayest thing I’ve ever heard you say. Get in the truck before I leave you here, dumbass.”

“Yes, sir,” David replies with a chuckle, walking around the vehicle to climb in. He sighs as he sits down and leans back, buckling up as Jack pulls out of the parking spot. “Hey, so, I... I know that the whole Katherine thing didn’t work out. How’re you holding up?”

“I think I’m doin’ good,” Jack replies with a sigh, looking straight ahead at the road in front of them. “It’s… It’s a good thing. Right? I mean, it’s an amicable split. We aren’t fighting over the house, ‘cause it belonged to my family, and we already figured out who gets to keep what last night after... yeah. Plus, this’ll be good for… me. Give me the chance to, uh, figure some things out. Self exploration, that’s what Kath said.”

That sounds promising, but David refuses to get his hopes up. “Well, if you need anything, let me know. I'm here for you, Jackie,” David offers with a soft elbow nudge, grinning. “So, the house belongs to your family?”

“Belonged. Past tense. They’re all, uh, gone.”

“Oh, shit, I'm sorry. I didn't realize."

“No, hey, it’s chill. I kinda figured Kath would tell you about it, but I guess not,” Jack says with a shrug and a glance toward David, offering him a sad smile. “My mamá, her family owned it. They moved to America in the ‘30s. Stayed in Texas for a while, but they came up this way for work. My great grandfather worked here in Tarrytown, and actually helped build the house, plus a few others around town. There were some… family issues regarding ownership of the house, so it was sold to a different couple when I, uh… moved, but Kath and I bought it after we got out of college. It’s been renovated, but it’s a piece of history.”

“I figured that you were hispanic, but I didn’t want to assume,” David says softly. It feels really nice to learn a little bit more about Jack in such an intimate way. "That-- Sorry, I just... yeah. The house is really cool."

“Ya don't gotta be sorry for wonderin', Davey. I'm Mexican,” Jack clarifies with a grin. “If ya can’t tell by me bein’, y’know, brown. My great grandpa, Francisco- he and his wife, Dorotea, brought their three kids over. My abuela met my abuelo here in Tarrytown and had my ma. My mother’s maiden name was Maria Velásquez, but she married a guy named Daniel Kelly, so that’s where I come in,” Jack explains with a deep chuckle, shaking his head. His smile soon fades, though. “She passed when I was ten, and my dad… He’s gone. My adoptive mom lives in Connecticut now, too, so now it’s just… me.”

“Shit, Jack…” David bites his lip, looking over at him with a concerned expression. He rubs the back of his neck, gulping hard. “If it’s any consolation, I’m glad you were able to get the house. To, y’know, have something of your family. I'm sorry you had it so rough, though.”

“Thanks, Dave,” Jack says with a grin, then shrugs. “And don’t get all down on me now. It’s been eighteen years since that shit went down, so I’m good. Really,” He nods, and there are a few moments of silence that pass before Jack turns to look him in the eyes. “Hey, are you free for a little bit?”

David really should have said no. He really should have avoided being anywhere alone with Jack for a prolonged amount of time, because this was only going to end in heartbreak.

But, then again, David has been through worse.

“I’m all yours.”

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “Family Drama.”

I did not sleep in today, and have written you a story.

Warning: there are a few mentions of drugs and addiction, but not a ton

He had never felt so defeated.

As the Taxi door opened, and he stepped out onto the quiet residential street he had to hold back his shame and kept his head high. What would his family think? Should he even tell them? Well of course he should, that wasn’t an option anymore. If he wanted to make them proud he was going to have to make himself ashamed for a little while. 

Waffles whimpered at his heels.

He looked down at her with a small smile, “Alright, alright, you’re right, I’ll shut up.”

He rubbed her ears and walked up the concrete stepping forward onto the grass as a group of kids whirred past on hover-skates. They turned upon seeing them, voices suddenly raised pointing and waving at him as they rolled past.

He raised a hand to wave back, but quickly turned to the front door.

There was no way he was ready to interact with people that weren’t his close family.

He walked up the step and held out his implant to the door, it would open when it knew it was him.

The lock clicked, and he reached forward ready to finally relax and let off some steam.

The door clicked open, and he was immediately assaulted by a wave of sound.

“ADDIE!” He was grabbed around the shoulders and pulled into a massive crushing hug. It took his brain way longer than it should have to figure out what was one person, but then again, there was only one person he knew who called him Addie…. Like a fucking dog.

“Uncle Ben?” he grunted 

The man set him down on the floor and slapped his back. Below him Waffle growled nervously, but she was ignored, “It's been YEARS. We had no idea you were coming.”

The sound of kids screaming reached his ears and a t least five of them came rushing into the hallway.

“Hey that’s not fair, I wanted to be a pony too!”

“But I was one first, you can pick something else.”

Uncle Ben turned, “Hey everyone! Guess whose back!” His legs swiveled uselessly under himself as he was dragged through the hallway and into the living room, where the entire extended family seemed to be crammed. 

He blinked as the group turned into an uproar upon seeing him.

“What is that on his face?”

“Did you really lose a leg?”

“It’s been so long?”

Aunt Marry got up, “Lost all your baby fat finally.” He winced as she grabbed him and pinched his cheek, which wasn’t really for pinching anymore, or honestly had never been, but when he had more of a baby face she had always done that.

“Tell us about space!”

He was shoved onto the couch with Jeremy on one side and Grandma Vir on the other.

Jeremy gave him a look.

He grimaced back as Waffles crawled under his feet resting her head on Jeremy’s shoe.

“Where is dad?” he muttered to Jeremy, and his older brother leaned in to whisper, “where do you think. Hiding in the garage while mom entertains.”

“Coward.” Adam replied with some amusement.

That was just like their dad to avoid all extended family, even his own.

“Wait, wait, everyone calm down, our little Addie is Commander of the UNSC. You all remember when he was just a little guy who used to believe in flying saucers.”

Adam crossed his arms over his chest. Uncle Ben had always made fun of him as a kid.

His grandma looked at him from across the room, “What is that on your face?” She repeated.

He sighed, “An eyepatch grandma.”

“Why are you wearing an eyepatch.”

“Because I lost my eye.” He sighed.

She put a hand to her chest just as his mother came walking into the room, a Trey in one hand an apron tied around her waist and her hair pulled back in a messy bun. She looked more than a little frazzled.

“Martha, why didn’t you tell us he lost an eye!” She sighed, “Because I didn’t want to worry you mom.”

“How is the army still allowing you to command a ship with a missing eye?” Uncle Andy wondered 

“He flipped up the eyepatch and the mechanical tech hopped to life nearly freaking out as it tried to track all the faces in one place all at once.

Gasps, “IS that a mechanical eye!”

“Yes.”

His other grandma put a hand over her face, “and he used to have such pretty green eyes. Now look at them, he looks like one of those cyborgs! Did you know some of those people intentionally cut off their limbs to look more like that.”

Martha sighed, “That’s not how it works mom.”

His Mother’s sister waved at him from across the room. He smiled back, he had always liked her, “I love your eyepatch, it looks cool.”

Her husband grinned, “Space pirate.” he nodded sagely.”

Adam tilted his head across the room where he found  David and Jordan squished against one wall sitting on the floor Jordan mostly sitting in David’s lap as they tried not to take up any space.

His brother grimaced at him, he grimaced back.

His mother's father leaned forward his steel grey hair and serious face set, “So tell me Adam, what are exactly your duties in the UNSC.”

The entire family rolled their eyes at once, some not even discreetly. He only got involved in conversation if he considered it “useful” and that meant all of the thing other people didn’t want to talk about, money, religion, politics, family history…… 

“Er, well Uh.”

“After commanding an entire fleet of ships you would think he’d be better at public speaking.” Uncle Trevor announced from where he was hidden behind the piano.

Adam frowned and cleared his throat, “I am fleet commander of fifteen UNSC deep space vessels for both exploration and military combat, but my primary directive is to foster good will with alien races , and save others from destruction, subjugation and slavery while expanding our knowledge of the universe through prolongued deep-space exploration.”

“Ohhhh his directive!” The rest of the family oooooed as well, but it was mostly sarcastic in nature.

His niece, Kimver walked into the room and crawled up to sit with him and Jeremy leaning against both of their arms as she played on her handheld. Kimber’s new obsession seemed to have shifted into vintage gaming. Glancing over her shoulder he could see her throwing tiny white and red balls and strange looking animals and a very pixelated screen.

“Have you met any sexy alien ladies.” Ben butted in

The rest of the family raised their eyes to the sky. Grandma looked almost offended.

“Ben would you stop with that.” His wife muttered from where she sat on a chair in the corner.

“What the whole LFIL thing is legal now, so he totally could have met some sexy alien babes.:

“It’s not a joke Ben, those people had a rough time of it the past few years.” David piped up from the other side of the room.

“Why the GA decided to legalize that behavior is a mystery to me. The world really is getting more wicked.” Grandpa muttered,

Adam clenched his fists, “Actually, Grandpa, I convinced them to lift the ban.”

The room went very quiet very suddenly.

Adam wished he had just shut his mouth.

“You what!”

“Look I spent a lot of time around LFIL members when I was securing the GA hall from protestors. I met a lot of them, and they are just good people who want to be left alone to do what they want. So yes, because of my position I was able to walk into the GA council chambers and convinced them to lift the ban.”

They stared at him.

“But what they are doing is wrong, it’s like bestiality.”

He felt his fists clench, “Grandpa if you ever met an alien you wouldn’t say that. They are sentient being that can consent, and if they can do that than it isn’t bestiality, and also stop calling my friends animals. My ship is staffed by some of the best alien crewmembers I know, and I wont have you comparing them to cattle or dogs or whatever else you want.”

The room went quiet.

Grandpa stepped out in a huff.

HE sighed and leaned his head back against the wall with an audible thud.

His mother walked over and handed him a stack of cookies with a smile on her face that said: Sorry about that.

He took the cookies greatfully shoving one completly into his mouth to avoid saying something else stupid. 

“So, does this mean you DID find a sexy alien girl.” Ben wondered and was immediately elbowed in the ribs from two sides  producing a grunt of surprise.

“So Jeremy, how long have you two been dating.” Adam looked over Jeremy’s bulk towards where a petite red haired woman with grey eyes and a sprinkling of freckles across her face was squished into the other side of the couch.” 

Sensing him looking, she waved a hand with a bright smile, and he waved back.

“Almost a year now.” Jeremy beamed putting his arm around her.

“Should we be expecting an announcement from you two soon?’ 

Everyone groaned, “Grandma!”

Jeremy’s girlfriend took it like a champ and continued to smile unaffected.

“Speaking of relationships.”

Dear god please descend from heaven and rapture him straight to hell, not that, that's how it worked but anywhere but here would have been great

“Adam, when are you finally going to settle down, how old are you now 25?”

He wondered if he prayed to satan hard enough he could summon a demon to swallow his soul whole.

“I know have you ever even dated anyone”

“Kissed anyone?” “Kissing is fun, you should definitely try it sometime.”

“You're grandmother definitely needs more grandkids.”

Oh the irony, the thought bitterly to himself.

At his feet the dog whimpered.

“You know there is this really pretty girl who works down at the corner store, I think she might do really good for you, a very down to earth girl. You could get promoted into a better paying desk job at the UNSC work 9-5 it would be a dream.”

Jeremy placed a hand on his shoulder, “Actually, Adam is more of an action guy, right Adam/”

Adam gave a weak smile, “Yeah.”

“Oh, he’ll grow out of that, besides you wouldn’t want to put a family under that kind of stress. It’s like you’re never home.”

“Space is my home.” He grumbled 

“Don’t be silly, humans weren’t meant for that sort of thing, besides your obsession was cute as a kid, but now that you’re older, you really need to start thinking about the future and having kids before you’re too old.”

He wanted to scream and bash his head against the wall.

“You know what though, how about that cute younger guy that works at the DMV, he looks about your age Adam.”

“I’m not interested in having a family right now!”

The room looked at him quietly, “You asexual or something?” Uncle Ben piped up awkwardly.

Adam felt his face go red, what kind of question was that? No, no uncle Ben I am not horny, or yes, yes uncle Ben I would love to find some hot person to plow just not right now.

And in front of the entire family?

Because he really wanted to have an extended discussion about his sex life with his entire extended family.

Waffles whimpered at his feet.

And then like an angel she descended from the sky to save him, either that or a billowing superhero cape like the saint she was. He couldn’t decide, angel or superhero, but decided on both.

Supermom, and part of her costume is angel wings and a halo.

“Adam why don’t you take waffles outside, she sounds a little nervous. Maybe take her out through the garage?”

He nodded and bolted to his feet like there were rockets firing from his ass, and hurried towards the door with the dog trailing at his heels.

Voices faded behind him, and he quickly hurried through the door and into the garage, where he found his dad sitting with Thomas on a set of lawn chairs drinking cold sodas and watching the clouds pass overhead.

They turned as they heard the door open.

“Adam! We didn’t know you were coming, pull up a chair.” 

He did so and unfolded it between the other two men sitting down as Thomas handed him a drink.

“They drive you off too?” Thomas grumbled 

Adam looked at his brother. Thomas was looking a little better than usual. His hair was only a little bit scruffy and his scraggly beard was at least trimmed. The tract marks in his arms had faded to pale scars on his arms.

“Yeah, uncle Ben asked about my love life in front of god and all his creatures. You?”

“Rehab. “

“I thought you were out of rehab.”

“I am, which is why I would rather not talk about it.”

“You doing good?”

“Yeah, got a stable job now, so that’s nice, go to meetings twice a week. One more month and I'll be six months sober.”

“Awesome, congrats.” He paused, “You know what, bet I could get you a job as a stuntman if you wanted.”

Thomas laughed, “Maybe I'll take you up on that. Once this job bores me to tears, which it will.”

“Did grandpa bring up LFIL.” Dad asked turning to look up at him

“You know he did.”

“He’s been meaning to ask you. He’s worried that spending so much time up in space has confused you.”

Adam snorted, “Don’t stargaze to long dad, the stars will make you extrial.”

“So that’s what dark matter is.” Thomas muttered and the three of them laughed. Waffles had climbed up on the chair with him and curled up on his legs to fall asleep.

“So what are you doing back here?” Dad wondered, “I thought you had just taken time off.”

He sighed, “Yeah… but things got complicated….” He paused, “Ever feel like no  matter what you try to do you keep failing at it.”

Thomas raised a hand “You mean my life.”

More laughter.

Then he got serious again, “Been so stressed lately that I can barely function as a person, has the UNSC questioning whether they should ground me or not. My friends set up an intervention, and it turns out that I am a raging control freak.”

“Could have told you that.”

“You got that from your mother.”

He glanced over at thomas, “What do you mean, could have guessed that?”

He shrugged, “Come on Adam, did you ever do anything you weren't sure you could do properly. Like riding a bike, or swimming, or how you threw a fit if we moved literally anything in your room, or how you had to have everything arranged on your plate before you ate it, or….”

“Yeah yeah ok. But I’m a fighter pilot, that's kind of not-”

“Yeah that is the most control freak job ever. You have to be in so much control that traveling at more than three times the speed of sound won’t kill you. Imagine the amount of control you need to fly in formation without killing everyone.”

“Alright I get it.” He grumbled.

“So what, you try to do everything yourself?” dad grunted 

He turned to look at the older man, “how did you know?”

“Every school project you ever worked on in a group, but you just ended up doing the entire thing.”

“I thought that’s just because the other kids were lazy and weren’t going to do their jobs.”

“Or because you wouldn’t let them and they just gave up on trying.” Dad responded 

Adam sighed and sunk back against his chair, “I had no idea.”

“Welcome to personal growth, how may we kick you in the balls.”

He sighed, ‘I just, how can I be a leader without losing my identity and becoming boring and stuffy. How can I still… I don’t know, be happy and have fun when I have a job like this…. Or am I just not meant for it.”

Dad waved a hand, “You were born for it, but you need to remember that while, most of the time, you can be friends with the people you work with sometimes you need to stop being their friend and be their commander, which entails doing some things that aren’t so friendly. At the end of the day it is a ship, so you have to make them and allow them to do their jobs, fun comes later.”

“How am I supposed to reduce the stress?”

He glanced at thomas who shook his head, “If I knew the answer to that, I wouldn’t be a recovering heroin addict.” 

“You just have to find something you love doing, and then take a little time every day to do that thing which you love. Don’t worry, you’ll figure it out.” 

He sighed and looked out at the deepening sky.

He really hoped so