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axwalker · 3 years

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Undeniable Miracle 2: Stranded

I’m participating in the 12 days of Christmas hosted by @leelee10898 and @emichelle . Thank you so much 💕 💕

Synopsis: Alexis decides to leave Cordonia on Christmas Eve, but she has a car accident in the middle of the woods during a snow storm.

A/N: This AU takes place during Liam’s and Madeleine’s Engagement Tour.

A/N 2: Some vocabulary for the Spanish words.

A/N 3: I’m using the prompt: “If you’re so cold, why didn’t you say something? Come here.” requested by @mskaneko

Fonda: Small Mexican restaurant.

Romeritos: Tender sprigs of seepweed which are boiled and served in a mole sauce seasoned with shrimp jerky blended into the mix. Typical additional ingredients include boiled potatoes, nopales and shrimp. They are usually served with bread slices and in tacos

Ensalada de manzana: combination of lettuce, beets, apple, and peanuts in a light orange vinaigrette

Bacalao: Cod fish prepped with sautee onion, garlic, tomatoes and olives.

Pozole: Tradition Mexican soup made with Hominy, pork and peppers.

Villancicos: Traditional Christmas songs.

Warnings: I can’t think of anything for this chapter but there will be NSFW in future chapters. All my fics are for 18+ ONLY.

Words: 2718

Disclaimer: Characters and settings belong to Pixelberry.

@burnsoslow Thank you so much for beta read and for your encouragement. I love you and appreciate you so much.

The edit of the mood board is the work of beautiful @mskanekoI was dying to use it. I love youuu

When he sees I don't respond, he opens my door. "O'Brien? Are you okay?"

I blink, incapable of forming a coherent sentence.

"Did you hit your head? You seem lost." Drake kneels in front of me.

Finally, I react. "What are you doing here?"

"Hello to you too. I asked if you were okay."

"I'm fine. I need to call a tow truck."

"Yeah, right. There are no tow trucks in storms like this, O'Brien." He sighs and asks me to open the car's hood so he can check the engine. Five minutes later, he comes back, and I read his expression. The car is not going anywhere.

"Sorry, O'Brien, but this car is not going to work for now, and the storm is getting worse. You're going to have to come with me."

I scoff. Drake is insane if he thinks I'll go anywhere with him. I've spent the last two months trying to forget everything about him; I don't need this right now.

"I'm sure I can find a way to get to Lythikos by myself."

"Shit, you're so damn stubborn, O'Brien. You aren't anywhere near there. It's about 50 miles away. I guess if your car had kept going about 50 miles through the woods, you might have landed there. Is that what you were trying to do?"

"Bite me, Drake."

"Wow, you really should do something about that attitude of yours." The asshole actually smirked. "I have a cabin a few miles up the road. We can go there and wait out the storm. My truck is parked on the road. I pulled over when I saw the car spinning."

"I'll wait here."

"You'll wait for what? To freeze to death? Don't be ridiculous; you're coming with me."

I shake my head stubbornly. "I think freezing to death is preferable to going with you. Thank you very much."

"You don't have much of a choice, O'Brien. I can't fuckin' leave you here. My cell phone doesn't work here, and I'm assuming yours doesn't either or else you'd be on it right now. They're expecting two feet of snow or more. So, I'm sorry if you're pissed at me or whatever, I'm not leaving you here."

I'm well aware that I'm behaving like a petulant, spoiled child, but my wish to make him as angry as I am overcomes all logical thinking. “As I said, I’m not going.”

"I'm going to have to carry you to my truck then."

"Carry me? No way. You are not touching me." I grab my phone again, begging my Abuela to send me just a little bit of phone service so I can call Max.

"Either you get out of that by yourself, or I carry you. You have exactly 30 seconds to decide."

I shut my door and raise my phone, trying to get some signal. Suddenly, Drake opens the door, reaches into the car, and has me scooped up without effort into his arms before I can even protest. I barely have time to grab my purse.

"Enough of your bullshit. Done," he states, then kicks my door shut and starts to walk up the snowy hill.

I have no choice but to put my arms around his neck. "Let me go this second Walker!"

Drake stares at me and gently shoves a strand of hair off my face. I'm suddenly aware of how close our faces, our lips, are. Because my heart is stupid and has a mind of its own, it starts beating like crazy. Drake swallows hard, and for a second, I think he's going to kiss me; I'm almost closing my eyes when he speaks.

"Here we are." He puts me back on the ground and opens the door of his old Jeep.

A bark coming from the backseat startles me.

"Oh my god! He's beautiful! He looks like a wolf!"

Drake's eyes soften when he pets the animal.

"It's a Tamaskan dog."

"Hi, boy! You're so cute!"

"He's not supposed to be cute; he's supposed to be terrifying." I turn my head, and I see he's teasing me. I shake my head and keep talking to the dog. "Don't listen to your dad, handsome; you're a cutie pie."

"I'm not his dad. He's a damn dog, O'Brien."

I rolled my eyes. "What's his name?"

"Zeppelin. Get in the Jeep; I'm freezing my ass off out here."

I smirked at him. "I never realized how bossy you are."

He shakes his head, but I catch the unwilling smile on his face.

DRAKE

I glance to the seat next to me, still not believing that O'Brien is here, in my Jeep. I try to think of something else besides her maddening fruity scent or the curve of her neck, but I already know that my ability to function like a normal human being disappears when she's around.

I can't believe that I'm so fucking stupid to be still hung up on her after what happened in Ramsford. She made perfectly clear who she wanted to be with -- yet here I am, looking at her like a goddamn fool.

We drive for a few minutes in complete silence. Suddenly a deer jumps out from the woods, right in front of the Jeep. I hear Alexis scream as I swerve, and the truck starts to slide and spin, gaining speed. In a second, I glance at her, throwing one arm across her chest to hold her against the seat when I see she doesn't have her seatbelt on. I try to regain control of the truck but it's not working. I feel the Jeep flying off the road and into the woods, crashing downhill and plowing down small trees, until it finally stops, wedged amongst a bunch of larger trees on the side of a hill.

"Fuck!" I throw both hands against the steering wheel. "I can't fucking believe this shit!" I turn to O'Brien. "And why the fuck wasn't your seatbelt on?"

“I thought you could drive!" She looks down at my arm, still holding her, and whispers, "Thank you."

I rest my head against the wheel and take several deep breaths. "I'm sorry for yelling at you." My voice is level and calm, even if the thought that something could've happened to her while I was driving makes me murderous. "Are you okay?" She nods, still shaken.

"You okay, Zeppelin?" The dog whimpers and licks my hand. "That's a good boy. We're all okay." I try to restart the truck, but it's completely dead. I can't believe this; honestly, I just can't.

"What are we going to do now?" O'Brien asks.

"Well, we're out of cars, so unless you want to walk or ride the dog to my place, we're stuck here."

She squints at me. "Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, Walker."

"But the highest form of intelligence, O'Brien." I wink at her, and she rolls her eyes at me again. I've forgotten how much I loved teasing her. At least, I wish I had forgotten. "We're going to have to just stay put until the plow truck comes by, and we'll have to hitch a ride. Until then, we're in luck because I stopped at the grocery store on the way to the cabin. I have enough things we can eat and drink to keep us going until then. I have a big blanket in the back seat, so we should be able to stay pretty warm. It's really heavy and thick."

I saw the panic in her eyes, so I continued. "Hey, O'Brien, look at me." She raises those fucking beautiful dark eyes and meets my gaze. "I would never let anything happen to you, okay?"

She nods. "Okay. Yes, I know. I just hope we don't get hypothermia.”

"We won't, O'Brien. C'mon, I think we should both sit in the back seat, since there's a lot of room back there, and we can put the blanket over both of us. I think it will help keep us warmer."

She gives me an odd look but nods. "Right. Yes. I think it's the best idea." She climbs over the seat first, and my eyes roam over her perfect body. I suppress the urge to sink my hands in her delicious hips and sit her on my lap. I sigh and call Zeppelin to the front seat, so we have more space.

"This is nice; it's very roomy," she says as she pulls the cover over both our legs.

I can see that she's shivering. "If you're so cold, why didn't you say something? Come here." I put my coat on her shoulders, and she smiles at me. Fuck me if I wouldn't do almost anything for that smile. "Where were you going on Christmas Eve? I' would've thought you'd go to the Christmas ball in the palace."

She hesitates for a few seconds, but finally, she answers, "I was going to spend Christmas with Olivia in Lythikos."

I raise my brow in disbelief. "I must have a concussion, O'Brien; I just heard you were headed to Lythikos to spend Christmas with Olivia Nevrakis."

"I know! Our friendship was … unexpected. At first, we were just trying to figure out who set us up. The whole Tariq thing that you stopped? It was a trap; someone was trying to blackmail both of us."

I don’t want her to know that I spend every single free minute I have helping Max figure out who set her up. If I ever find the person who sent Tariq to her room that night and scared the shit out of her, I will kill him.

"Yes, O'Brien, I knew. Liam told me."

She nodded. "Well, we're trying to get to the bottom of it together, so we've been spending a lot of late nights drinking bourbon and talking. She hides it very well under layers of sarcasm and abrasiveness, but she's extremely loyal and has a great heart. Just like you."

"If you compare me to that crazy redhead one more time, you'll be sleeping outside, O'Brien, and I can promise you, it's cold."

She laughs. "Okay, okay, sorry. I won't do it again."

I'm about to ask her why she's not spending Christmas with Liam, but she speaks before I can talk. "And you? What are you doing here?"

"I moved to a town close to Lythikos a month ago. I'm opening a veterinary clinic there. This morning I went to supervise the construction site and to get some groceries for the cabin."

She looks pensive but doesn't say anything for a while. "I hope you're happier here than you were in the palace, Drake,"she finally says, so softly that I almost miss it.

I take a deep breath because I can't tell her the truth. I can't tell her that I can't be happy now, not after her. When I kissed her that night, I lost everything. She would never be mine, and after that, we couldn’t even be friends anymore.

"Thank you, O'Brien," I reply anyway because I know she's expecting some sort of answer.

"How did you get Zeppelin?" she asks as she pets my dog, and I swear the traitor's mouth curls up into a little doggy smile.

"I was running some errands for the clinic when I saw him tied up outside. I came back a few weeks later on a sunny day, and this poor dog is just tied up to a fence on the side of the building with no shade or anything, and I don't even see a water dish or food. So I park my car and check on him, and he's all happy to have someone pet him, tail wagging like mad. There was an old food dish off to the side, but it was empty, and a dish with some dirty water. I went to my house and grabbed some of the toys and food I'd bought for the clinic. I also gave him some water, and he drank three fucking bowls. I felt terrible leaving him. I just had this bad gut feeling, you know?" She nods with misty eyes. "Anyway, I had to go back to Cordonia city after I gave the dog the stuff. To be honest, I kind of forgot about him. But when I came back, O'Brien, it was awful. I honestly think the last time he ate was the food I'd given him. He was nothing but skin and bones, too weak even to stand up. He was just lying there in the dirt with flies buzzing all around him. But when I kneeled in front of him, his little tail wagged a tiny bit. I think he remembered me."

Tears spring into her eyes. "My God, Drake, what happened?"

I see how affected she is, so I reach her hand and squeeze it. "An old man came out of the little building and started yelling at me to get off his property. There was just no fucking way I was going to leave him there. I told him that if I ever saw a dog or any other animal on his property ever again, I would fucking kill him. The douchebag just ran back to the house. I took the dog to my cabin. He was dehydrated and almost starved to death, had two ear infections, worms — you name it. We've been together ever since." Zeppelin looks up as if he knows we're talking about him.

She wipes a tear and caresses Zeppelin's ear. "You named him?"

I shrug. "Best band ever."

"Ha! You're so predictable, Walker."

"How do you know my last name? I never gave it to you."

"I asked Maxwell at the coronation. Why? You don't like it when I call you that? Turnabout's fair play, Walker." She bits her bottom lip; I look away before the impulse to kiss her becomes unbearable, and I do something stupid. Again.

"Nah, I like it, O'Brien. Calling each other by our last names will be our thing."

She sighs, not talking for a while. "What is it, O'Brien? I can almost see the wheels turning in your head."

"We're going to spend Christmas Eve here, stranded in the middle of nowhere."

"I know; I'm sorry, O’Brien. Do you usually do something special?"

She looks up to me with so much vulnerability in her pretty face, I find it hard to breathe. I instinctively come close to her because I hate that look in her eyes; I hate even more that I was the one who put put it there with my fucking dumb question. Her mom and grandma are dead; of course it's a sad subject.

"Not in a long time. It was one of the holidays my mom, my Abuelita and I celebrated together. We didn't really do Halloween because my mom's Fonda was so busy preparing for Dia de Muertos. The day of the dead," she explains.

"I know, O'Brien. You made me watch Coco with you and Maxwell in Applewood." I can't help but smile at the memory. She forced us to watch the damn movie in Spanish only to hit "pause" at every single scene to translate it and explain the traditions.

"Well, Coco had it right! They really respected our traditions!" she replied, her eyes shining as they always did when she was excited. "Anyway, my mom worked for most holidays, and I was forced to spend Thanksgiving with my dad, his crazy wife, and her creepy son. So, Christmas was the best. Especially Nochebuena, Christmas Eve. We had this huge dinner where all our neighbors came to the house and brought Mexican dishes. We had everything; bacalao, romeritos, ensalada de manzana, and the best pozole in Brooklyn. We sang villancicos, had a piñata. The whole thing. My abuela took the holidays seriously," she says with a sad smile.

I might be a fucking fool, but I can't stand seeing her this sad. And, suddenly, I know what to do. "We might not be able to have a traditional Mexican Nochebona ..."

She giggles. "No-che-bue-na, Drake."

I think I could spend the rest of my life here listening to her speaking Spanish.“Yeah, that.” I watch through the window and when I see that the storm has calmed, I say, “I have an idea; just wait here."

Tagging:

@texaskitten30 @leelee10898 @emichelle @burnsoslow @kat-tia801

@msjr0119 @twinkleallnight @mskaneko @drakexwillow @twinkle-320 @kimmiedoo5 @kingliam2019 @drakexwillow @princessleac1 @marshmallowsandfire @tinkie1973

#axwalker writes #drake walker #drake x mc #12 days of fictmas 2020

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rpf-bat · 4 years

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Celebrate The End Of Things With Cheap Champagne

Pairing: Frank Iero x Reader

Genre: Angst

Summary: @sirloin-steaks requested a Frank story based on the song “New Year’s Day” by Taylor Swift.

It’s December 31st, 2006, and My Chemical Romance are ringing in the New Year, performing live in Times Square. Frank invites you to come out, and see the show. But, an after-party at the band’s hotel, takes a turn, that nobody saw coming.

Trigger warning for substance abuse.

You stood on the deck of the ferry boat, watching the bright lights of New York City draw closer and closer. You used to take this ferry every day, from your hometown in New Jersey, to your job in Manhattan. But, that seemed like so long ago now.

Once upon a time, your friend and former coworker, Gerard, would catch the morning ferry with you. But, after the September 11th attacks, he’d quit his job at your company, and started a band. His decision had puzzled you at first. But, the first time you saw My Chemical Romance perform live, you had understood.

That was also the night that you met Frank. His guitar playing was electric, and you told him as much, after the band finished their set. It had been at some shitty dive bar - the only venues that would take them at the time. But, he’d told you that night, that he, and Gee, and the guys, were going to make it to the big time. You’d admired his ambition, and the two of you became fast friends. And he’d been right.

Now, four years later, My Chemical Romance was one of the biggest bands in the country. Their album, The Black Parade, had just dropped two months ago, debuting at #2 on the Billboard charts. They had gotten popular enough, to receive a prestigious offer. Ryan Seacrest had asked them to play New Year’s Rockin’ Eve, tonight, in Times Square!

Millions of Americans tuned in every New Year’s Eve, to see the concert broadcast, and watch the ball drop at midnight. It was crazy to you, that your dorky friends from back home in New Jersey, had gotten “big” enough to perform alongside glitzy pop stars, like Christina Aguilera.

You were so psyched for them. It would also be the first time you had seen them in a while. Frank was the only one of the guys who still technically lived in New Jersey. When he was home, and off the road, he would come over to your house all the time, to watch movies, or play video games, just like in the old days. But, the last time that had happened, had been months ago. He, and the rest of the band, had been traveling around nonstop, doing radio and TV interviews, to promote the new album. In February, they were supposed to embark on a world tour.

“But after tonight’s show, we’ll have a little bit of time off, before the tour starts,” Frank had told you excitedly on the phone, yesterday afternoon, when he’d invited you to the gig. “I really hope we get to spend more time together, Y/N. I missed you.”

You had missed him, too - more than words could describe. Your heart ached whenever you drove past his house, knowing that he wasn’t in it. You had things you wanted to say to him tonight - things you’d been waiting to tell him for a long time.

Your heart hammered as you stepped off the ferry, and began walking towards Time Square. The streets were packed with people, all rushing towards the same place you were. You knew some New Yorkers had started camping out at three o’clock in the afternoon, to get the best seats. If Frank hadn’t sent you a VIP pass in the mail, you’d surely have ended up in the way back of the crowd, nowhere close to the stage.

You showed your pass to the security personnel, who were looking through peoples’ bags at a checkpoint, near the entrance to the Square. They waved you through to a special designated area, in the front row, for friends and family of the performers. You were pretty sure the kid on your left was the fourth Jonas Brother. You felt remarkably out of place.

But, then your phone beeped, alerting you that you had a text. A smile crossed your face, when you realized it was from Frank.

We r about 2 head onstage, he said. I will see you after our set, I promise! There’s nobody I’d rather ring in 2007 with :)

You heard the crowd start screaming, and your head whipped around, as you watched the announcer stroll onto the stage.

“Please welcome our next musical guest - My! Chemical! Romaaaaance!”

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Their performance was amazing. They were one of a dozen artists performing tonight, so they only got to do three songs, before they had to get offstage and make room for the next act (Gwen Stefani, apparently). But, they put their whole hearts into those three tracks. Frank was jumping around like a maniac with his guitar, despite the freezing cold. Ray even had a pair of “2007” sunglasses on.

You screamed for them, like every other girl in the crowd. At this point, you thought with a frown, there’s probably ten thousand people, with a crush on the same man, that I’ve been pining for since 2002.

...Then again, you considered, the ten thousand other girls, don’t have backstage passes.

Your frown disappeared, when you walked backstage, and a pair of arms immediately circled you.

“Y/N!” Frank grinned. “Thank you so much for coming out and seeing us tonight!”

“Wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” you grinned, hugging your friend back. “You were amazing.”

“Thank you,” Frank said sincerely, releasing you from his grip. “Are you ready to get out of this cold?”

“Where are we going?” you asked.

“Back to the hotel,” he explained. “Ray’s not feeling so good.”

“Oh, no,” you frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Hi, Y/N!” Ray greeted, waving at you with one hand, while he pulled a tissue from his pocket, with the other. He blew his nose loudly. “....Sorry,” he muttered. “How are you?”

“It’s okay!” you assured him. “I’m fine...I’m sorry you’re not doing so well, though. You sound awful.”

“It’s this East Coast weather,” he shrugged, throwing the tissue in a nearby wastebasket. “I hate doing outdoor shows, in the wintertime.”

“You sounded great onstage,” you reassured him. “Nobody could even tell you were sick.”

“The dorky sunglasses conceal how puffy his eyes are,” Frank confessed. “Poor guy didn’t sleep at all last night.”

“Well, hopefully, I’ll sleep better tonight,” Ray chucked. “We’ve got two rooms at the Knickerbocker Hotel - one for me and Mikey, and one for Frank and Gerard.”

“Speaking of which,” you asked, “where is Gerard?”

“Here I am!” chuckled a voice behind you, and you turned and saw your old friend Gerard, beaming at you. “Sorry, I was busy calling our cab. It’s so good to see you, Y/N! Thank you for coming.”

“Thank you for inviting me!” you smiled back. “I’m really proud of you guys, getting to be part of such a major event.”

“Oh, it’s surreal,” Gerard confessed. “I used to come up here with my mom and dad, and Mikey, every New Year’s Eve, to watch the show live. I never thought I’d be in the show.”

“We’re really lucky,” Mikey smiled, appearing beside Gerard, with a glass of champagne in his hand.

“Ooh, where’d you get that?” Frank asked.

“They’re giving them out to all the VIPs,” Mikey explained. “Would you like one, Y/N?”

“I don’t think I qualify as a Very Important Person,” you confessed.

“Nonsense,” Frank shook his head. “You’re very important to me.”

“Yeah,” Mikey nodded. “You’ve been good friends with all of us for a long time. You can have whatever you want.”

“No time for that,” Gerard shook his head. “Our cab’s here.”

“C’mon,” Frank said, lacing his fingers with yours. “We have to go out through a secret exit, so that the fans don’t mob us.”

“Oh, shit, really?” you chuckled. “I feel like a secret agent.”

“Our lives have gotten so weird, honestly,” Gerard confessed. “I’m kinda glad that we’re gonna put some distance, between us and these crowds.”

“Yeah, it’ll just be five of us, once we get to the hotel,” Mikey nodded. “Well...four. Ray is gonna go to sleep in our room, as soon we get there. But, the rest of us can party in Frankie and Gee’s room til midnight.”

“Or later,” Frank grinned mischievously.

You smiled at your four oldest friends. “I can’t wait.”

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

“Ok, question,” you asked uncertainly, staring at the yellow cab in front of you. “How are we gonna fit five people in there?”

“It’s gonna be a tight squeeze,” Frank chuckled.

“Well, hey, we’ve managed to fit in smaller places before, right?” Gerard pointed out.

“True,” Ray laughed. “Remember when we were traveling around New Jersey, in our shitty little van?”

“We were all practically right on top of each other,” Mikey recalled.

When the band had first started, you had gone with them, on weekend trips, to play a gig, in the next town over. You’d squished between the boys, somehow, and helped them carry their equipment into the venue. Watching them rock the faces off the local kids, had been so much fun.

But, as time went on, they started getting offers to play at clubs across state lines. Day trips turned into months-long tours. You couldn’t commit to that - unlike Gerard, you still had a day job. And so, you started seeing the guys less and less. Then they’d gotten a record deal - and everything had gotten even more complicated.

“That was….a long time ago,” you frowned.

“Yeah,” Frank said wistfully. “I wish we had the chance to do that again.”

“Well, now, most of the time, we don’t have to squish,” Ray pointed out. “We have a nice, roomy tour bus, with bunks and everything.”

“You’ve come a long way,” you smiled weakly.

You were quiet as you piled into the car. As the taxi started driving down the street, you stared out at the night sky, and the city lights flying by. Suddenly, Frank gently touched your hand, making you turn, and face him.

“Hey,” he said quietly, giving your hand a squeeze, “are you alright, Y/N?”

“Yeah,” you shrugged. “I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

“Tonight’s supposed to be a party, remember?” he teased. “So, try and smile for me, okay?”

“I’ll try,” you promised. It was far easier to smile, with him around.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

You could tell as soon as you walked into the lobby, that this was a five star hotel. A crystal chandelier, cast a soft glow over the pristine decor.

“We already got our room keys earlier,” Gerard explained. “So, we can go ahead up.”

You nodded, and followed him and the guys to the elevator.

“I think I’m gonna crash as soon as we get upstairs,” Ray confessed, sniffling into his tissue again.

“I don’t blame you,” you said sympathetically. The elevator dinged, as you arrived at your floor.

“Since I won’t see you guys until tomorrow,” Ray sighed, “Happy New Year, alright?”

“Happy New Year, Ray,” you waved, as you watched him unlock his hotel room door, and head inside. “Feel better soon!”

“Thanks, Y/N,” Ray wheezed, closing the door behind him.

“Alright, let’s head into our room,” Frank grinned, opening the door to the adjoining room. “What do you want to do first?”

“Let’s turn the TV on,” Mikey suggested, immediately looking for the remote. “I wanna see the other performances. They’re still broadcasting live right now.”

“Oh, true,” you nodded. “We can still watch the ball drop tonight, on this flat screen!”

“I wanna look at the room service menu,” Gerard grinned. “Y/N, you can have anything you want. Just let me know.”

“Thanks, Gee,” you grinned. “Should we get champagne to toast with, at midnight?”

“I’ll get it for you three,” Gerard shrugged. “For me? I guess I’ll order a club soda. If they put it in a fancy glass, I can still clink it with yours when the clock strikes twelve.”

“Yeah, that works,” Frank agreed. “Looks almost the same.”

You frowned. That’s right, you remembered. Gerard is about two and a half years sober now.

You remembered going to see them, at their Englishtown show, during Warped Tour ‘04. Gerard had been a mess. You hadn’t seen him in two or three months, and you were shocked how much he’d deteriorated. You’d felt helpless. If you’d had more time, maybe you could have talked some sense into him. But, the very next day, he had to get back on his bus, and head to another gig, in Pennsylvania.

Frank had called you on the phone, maybe a week later, and told you Gerard had decided to get clean, on his own. You didn’t know how, or why. You didn’t know fifty percent, of what went on in your friends’ heads anymore.

“.....Y/N?” Frank called, his voice stunning you out of your thoughts.

“Sorry,” you blinked. “Did you say something?”

“Yeah, I said I’m going out to the balcony, to have a smoke,” Frank replied. “I asked you if you wanted to come with me?”

“Oh….yeah, sure,” you nodded, and followed him out. “Got a light?”

“Here,” Frank said, pulling a lighter out of his pocket, and handing it to you.

You took a pack of Marlboros out of your purse, and lit one. “Thanks,” you said, handing it back.

Frank lit his own cigarette, and took a drag. You glanced over at him as you inhaled the nicotine, watching how the cool night breeze tousled his hair.

“I thought you said on the phone, that you were trying to quit,” Frank raised an eyebrow.

“I should,” you sighed, exhaling smoke. “I know it’s bad for me.”

“Sorry for being a bad influence,” Frank laughed. “I know I got no room to talk.”

“It’s not your fault,” you shrugged, taking another puff. “I guess I’m just stressed tonight.”

“About what?” Frank asked, looking at you curiously.

“It’s stupid,” you mumbled.

“Tell me,” Frank insisted, taking his free hand in yours again. Your heart raced at his casual touch.

“I just…,” you sighed, unsure how to begin. “I never see you guys anymore.”

“I’m sorry,” Frank frowned.

“No, don’t be,” you shook your head. “I’m being selfish. I should be happy for you, right? It’s a good thing, that the band has gotten so successful, that you have fans in practically every city in the world, that want to see you.”

“Yeah, they get to see me,” Frank groaned. “But, I don’t get to see my friends, or family - any of the people I love most - for months at a time.”

The people he loves most. Your face reddened. Did you really fit into that category?

“After tonight,” you asked, “how long will you be in town?”

“The first night of the tour is February 22nd,” Frank explained. “The gig’s in New Hampshire, so we’ll be flying out the night before.”

“So we have….slightly less than two months, to spend time together,” you calculated. “And after that, the next time you’ll be in my neck of the woods is…?”

“Bamboozle Festival,” Frank replied. “That’s in May.”

“Wow,” you frowned. “Are you playing all three days of the festival, or…?”

“Nah, just one,” Frank said sheepishly. “We’ll be in Jersey for a night….the very next day, we’ll be playing a gig in fuckin’ Maine.”

“The fun never stops, I guess,” you deadpanned.

“I mean, it is fun,” Frank admitted. “I love being a musician. Playing my guitar, onstage, is all I’ve wanted to do, my entire life.”

“Yeah, it’s your dream,” you said quickly, “that’s why I should just shut up, and let you…”

“You don’t have to shut up,” Frank interrupted. “Y/N, I want you to tell me how you feel.”

“How do I feel, Frank?” you repeated, your emotions starting to get the best of you. “I feel like I don’t even know my friends at all anymore! I don’t want you to turn into a stranger, whose laugh I could recognize anywhere. I’m still working the same dead end job I had the day I met you….but your life has completely changed. You’re gone 80% of the year, and yeah, I know you text or call me whenever you can, but when I’m not there face to face, I still miss so much of your life! You used to be just….a guy next door, that I could listen to records and smoke with. Now you’re some….millionaire rock star. That coat you’ve got on right now is probably worth more than my first car, and you’ve probably got girls in every town, throwing their panties at you…”

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t look twice at any of those girls,” Frank said, looking you in the eye, “if a certain someone, told me, that she wanted me to be hers, and hers alone.”

A certain someone….? you gasped. Did he mean…?

“Hey!” a voice interrupted, and you jumped, as the sliding glass door slid open, and Gerard stepped onto the balcony. “There you guys are!”

“H-hey,” you stammered, taken aback.

“Everything alright?” Gerard asked, raising a quizzical eyebrow.

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s cool,” Frank mumbled, not looking at you at all, as he stubbed his cigarette out in the ashtray. “What did you need?”

“We’ve got about five minutes til midnight,” Gerard smiled. “Figured you guys would want to come back inside, so we can count down the last seconds of 2006 together.”

“Oh, right, of course,” you blinked. “Did room service already bring up the champagne flutes?”

“Yeah, they’re ready to go,” Gerard nodded. “....Wait. Where’s Mikey?”

“We thought he was with you,” Frank said, looking confused.

“No,” Gerard shook his head. “I went to the bathroom, and when I came back out, he was gone. If he’s not on the balcony with you guys, where did he go?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “Maybe he went to his and Ray’s room?”

“Oh, yeah, that would make sense,” Gerard nodded. “Let’s go get him.”

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Gerard knocked loudly on the hotel room door.

“Come on, Mikey!” he called. “We got three minutes til midnight, you’re gonna miss the ball drop, dude!”

The door swung open, but instead of Mikey, a sleepy-looking Ray answered.

“Mikey’s not in here,” Ray said with a yawn. “It’s just me.”

“Oh, sorry for waking you up, man,” Gerard apologized.

“Wait,” Frank realized. “If he’s not in either hotel room, then, where is he?”

“Maybe he went to go get ice?” Ray suggested.

“Or maybe he went downstairs, to ask the front desk guy something,” you guessed.

“Let’s split up,” Frank suggested. “You guys go down the hall and see if he’s by the ice machine. Y/N and I will look for him downstairs.”

“Yeah, we can do that,” Gerard agreed. “Hopefully we’ll find him before the end of the year!”

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

“This elevator’s taking too long to get up here,” Frank said impatiently, hitting the down-arrow button a second time.

“Wanna just take the stairs?” you suggested.

“Works for me,” Frank shrugged.

You followed him into the stairwell, your heart still pounding from the conversation on the balcony. What would have happened, you wondered, if Gerard hadn’t walked in when he did?

Frank kept his eyes on the flight of stairs in front of you, not saying a word, as you walked past the sign, indicating that you were now on the second floor.

“Maybe he didn’t go this wa...oh, fuck,” Frank gasped, coming to a sudden stop.

Your blood froze, when you saw what he was looking at. Mikey’s unconscious body, lay sprawled across the bottom steps. He was face down….he didn’t even look like he was breathing.

“Mikey, oh my god!” You ran to his side, flipping him over, so that you could see his face. “Frank, we have to help him!”

The bassist looked deathly pale, and his lips had turned a horrifying shade of blue. You felt for a pulse. It was there, but it was disturbingly weak.

“Come on, Mikey, wake up!” you pleaded, shaking his shoulders. “Oh my god, what’s wrong with him?!”

“I think he’s overdosing,” Frank realized, kneeling by your side.

“On what?!” you gasped.

“On whatever he went downstairs, to pick up from his dealer,” Frank growled. “Goddamnit! We need to call 911.”

“Mikey!” a familiar voice called, and Gerard and Ray burst into the stairwell.

“Oh, god!” Gerard gasped, when he saw his brother, lying eerily still in your arms.

“I’m trying to wake him up!” you explained. “It’s not working...fuck, what do I do?”

“He needs a doctor,” Ray realized, whipping out his cell phone. “....Hello? Yes, we’re having an emergency…...the Knickerbocker Hotel….umm, Six Times Square….please hurry….my friend isn’t breathing…”

You shook Mikey’s shoulders again. His eyes fluttered open, but his pupils were like pinpricks. He gasped and choked, like he couldn’t get air into his lungs.

“Come on, Mikey, hang in there!” you begged. Oh god, what if he died?!

You could see the headlines now. World Tour Canceled After Bassist’s Hospitalization. You’d wanted more time with Frank….but not like this, damnit!

Since when did your oldest friend’s kid brother do smack?!

I really don’t know anything about them anymore, you realized, tears clouding your vision as you listened to him wheeze. Minutes felt like hours.

“Out of the way!” called an unfamiliar voice, and you gaped as two paramedics dragged a stretcher down the stairs.

“Ma’am, we need to move him,” a uniformed woman barked. “Time is of the essence.”

You let the EMT scoop Mikey up, and load him onto the gurney.

“What did he take?” the second paramedic asked.

“I….I don’t know,” you stammered. “We just found him like this.”

“Ma’am,” the man pressed, “we’re not here to judge anybody. But, any information you have, can help us figure out what antidote he needs…”

“Here,” Frank said. “I found this next to his body.”

He handed the paramedic a needle. Oh, god.

“I see,” the paramedic nodded grimly. “Judith! Get this man two milligrams of naloxone, stat!”

“Is….is he gonna be okay?!” Gerard gasped, tears in his eyes. “That’s my baby brother….”

“We’re going to try our best to save him, sir,” the female paramedic (Judith) promised. “We need to move him to the hospital, as soon as possible.”

“We’re only going to be able to fit two extra people in the ambulance,” the male paramedic warned. “Who’s going?”

“Me,” Gerard said immediately. “He’s my family!”

“Who else?” the paramedic demanded. “We don’t have time to waste.”

Mikey gasped for air on the gurney, his face growing bluer by the minute.

“I’ll go,” Ray decided. “Frank, you stay here with Y/N, okay?”

“O-okay,” Frank stammered. You clung to him,shaking, as you watched the paramedics drag your friend out of the hallway, to the ambulance waiting outside.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

“.....Happy New Year!” the oblivious voice of Ryan Seacrest rang out from the television screen, as you walked back into the hotel room, wiping your eyes on your sleeve.

Confetti was falling in Times Square, as the credits rolled. You’d missed the countdown. There had been no toast, no midnight kiss (although perhaps, the latter had been foolish to even hope for.)

“This wasn’t how 2007 was supposed to start,” Frank sobbed, sinking down onto the bed. “Fuck!”

“H-he’s gonna be okay,” you stammered. “The doctors are gonna save his life…”

“You don’t know that!” Frank cried, kicking a bottle of Dom Perignon off the coffee table. It shattered, sending broken glass and alcohol all over the floor.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, Y/N,” Frank apologized, kneeling to pick up the shards. “I shouldn’t have done that…”

“Ssh, stop, you’re gonna cut yourself,” you warned, grabbing his hands. “We can clean that up later, okay? I understand that you’re only lashing out, because you’re scared…”

“Of course I’m scared,” Frank wept, burying his head in your shoulder. “That’s one of my best friends.”

“He’s my friend, too,” you said softly, stroking Frank’s hair. “I’m scared, too, but there’s nothing we can do now, but pray.”

You sat down on the bed, and Frank sat with you, still sobbing into your shirt. You were choking back tears yourself.

“I….I didn’t know he was doing that stuff,” you said guiltily. “I’m never around you guys anymore….I….”

“I didn’t realize the extent of the problem, either,” Frank confessed. “And I’m with the kid almost every day. I should’ve noticed, but I was too self absorbed, doing my own dumb shit…”

“Ssh, it’s not your fault, Frankie,” you soothed. “We got him, to the people that can help him. That’s all we can do.”

“It doesn’t feel like enough,” Frank sniffed, still clinging to you tightly.

“No,” you agreed, your heart aching, “it doesn’t.”

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

You woke the next morning, to the feeling of warmth against your side. Your eyes fluttered open, and you realized that Frank was sleeping next to you. What?!

Your cheeks reddened as you stared at his sleeping face, so close to your own. “...Frank? Why are you…?”

Reality filtered back into your head, slowly, as you recalled the events of the previous night. Oh god….Mikey!

Was he okay? You still didn’t know. You and Frank had sat beside each other on the hotel room bed, crying, clinging to each other for comfort. You supposed you had fallen asleep like that.

“.....Huh?” Frank groaned sleepily. “Y/N…?”

He shot up, jerking away from you, almost as soon as he realized, that your bodies were touching. “I...I’m sorry!”

“N-no, it’s fine…” you stammered.

“Fuck….I need to check my messages,” Frank realized, groping for his cell phone on the bedside table. He sat up,and put his feet on the floor. “Owww!”

“What’s wrong?” you gasped.

“I just stepped on a shard of the bottle I broke last night...fuck!” Frank swore.

“Oh no,” you winced. “Is it bleeding?”

“No, it’s just cut a little,” Frank shook his head.

“Do you want me to call the front desk,” you offered, “and see if they can bring up some Band-Aids?”

“No, it’s not that serious,” Frank insisted, opening his flip phone. His eyes widened, as he clicked through his inbox. “Oh….oh, thank god…”

“What?” you demanded.

“Ray texted me, around like two in the morning,” Frank explained. “He said Mikey’s gonna make it. The doctors were able to reverse the overdose in time, and he’s gonna make a full recovery.”

“Oh, thank goodness!” you cried, tearing up from sheer relief. You had been so scared, that Ray’s text, would say that Mikey hadn’t survived. He’s gonna be okay. He’s alive.

Frank, however, didn’t share your grateful smile.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“I’m sorry that you had to see that, last night,” Frank frowned. “We ruined your New Year’s Eve.”

“It’s not your fault,” you shook your head. “I’m glad I was there, to help you find him. I wouldn’t have wanted you to go through this alone.”

“I hate to ask you for even more help,” Frank grimaced, “but, we need to clean this shit up.”

“You’re right,” you nodded, leaning down to help him pick up the glass shards. “It wouldn’t be fair, to leave it for the hotel staff to pick up.”

“Some bands dig trashing hotel rooms,” Frank sighed, grabbing a towel from the bathroom, to mop up the puddle of champagne. “Not me, though. I feel bad, making a mess, that some housekeeper is gonna have to deal with.”

He’s a kind person, you thought to yourself, as you carefully placed the pieces of bottle into a waste basket. Not everyone would take the time to do this, after the night we had.

“Shit, look at this,” Frank sighed, pointing down at the hardwood floor. “Nobody blew out the stupid scented candle, that Housekeeping lit before we checked in, to make the place smell pretty. Now, there’s dried wax all over the floorboards.”

“You had bigger things to worry about last night,” you reminded. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even notice the candle was still burning, with everything else going on. I would’ve reminded you to put it out.”

“That’s not your job,” Frank said, pulling a guitar pick from his pocket. He tried to use it to scrape some of the wax up, but it didn’t seem to want to budge. “None of this is your job.”

“What do you mean?” you blinked.

“You said last night, that you don’t see us for months at a time,” Frank reasoned, scraping harder with his pick. “And then...last night, you finally see us again, and this happens.”

“You couldn’t have predicted something like that,” you assured him.

“We complicate your life, Y/N,” Frank frowned. “I complicate your life. You don’t need this fucking drama. The best thing I could for you, is probably just leave you alone. Stop inviting you to see us when we’re in town. I’ve grown apart from a lot of friends since I left New Jersey. Why can’t I just let this relationship go, too?”

“I don’t want you to do that!” you protested. “Frank, our friendship is really important to me. I would be miserable if you suddenly stopped inviting me to hang out.”

“I don’t just want to hang out with you,” Frank mumbled. “I want more than that.”

“....Huh?” you cocked your head.

“But it’s not fair, for me to ask you for that,” Frank signed. “Not when I know damn well, that I’m about to spend the majority of 2007, hundreds of miles away from you.”

“Ask me for what?” you demanded. You suddenly remembered the words, he had spoken to you on the balcony, before your night had gone straight to hell.

“I wouldn’t look twice, at any of those girls, if a certain someone, told me, that she wanted me to be hers, and hers alone.”

“Nothing,” Frank murmured, picking fruitlessly at the wax on the floor again. “It’s stupid. Ignore me.”

“I won’t ignore it,” you insisted. “Frank, what were you going to ask me?”

Frank looked at his shoes.

You sat down on the floor next to him, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder. “....Frank?”

“I was going to ask you...to be mine,” Frank confessed.

You gasped, audibly. No way….he really felt the same way about you, that you did about him?!

“But, it’s not right, for me to ask you, to make that commitment to me!” Frank said miserably. “Not when I’m just gonna disappear on you again. And...you saw, last night, what my life has turned into. What my band has turned into. I’m a mess….why would you want to be with someone like me?”

“Frankie, I love you,” you said plainly. Now that you knew he returned your feelings, there was no point in hiding it anymore. “I’ve loved you for years.”

He raised his head to look at you. His hazel eyes, swimming with tears again, stared into yours. “You….you mean that?”

“Yes,” you said emotionally. “I’ve been in love with you for so long….but, you’re a famous rock star now. I’m still just an art school dropout. You can do so much better than me.”

“Funny,” Frank chuckled bitterly, “I was about to say the same thing, about you.”

“Frank, there isn’t anybody better than you,” you sighed, and grabbed him by the collar, pulling him into a searing kiss.

His lips met yours, hesitant at first, but then suddenly you were toppling to the floor, as he pressed himself against you, with four years worth of buried desire.

Life was so short. You realized that now.

His hands tangled into your hair as he kissed you over and over. “Be mine,” he gasped, coming up for air. “Please be mine, Y/N….even if it fucks up everything…”

“Frankie, it’s okay,” you assured him, as you gazed up at him tenderly. “I don’t care if you’re gone a hundred nights. You’re worth waiting for. Just promise me, that when you do finally come home, I can….have you.”

“Oh, you can have me any way you want me,” Frank breathed, leaning down to kiss you passionately again. “I won’t touch anyone else while I’m away on tour….nobody else is as beautiful as you. You’re the only one that I want.”

“You’re the only one that I want, too, Frankie,” you promised him, claiming his mouth once again. “I want you every day. Not just when you’re the toast of the town. Not just when times are good. I want to be there with you, through the bad times, too. I want to help you when you’re scared, or even when something fucked up happens, like last night... because I love you. I’ll stay with you, no matter what….even when it’s hard, or it’s wrong, or you’re making mistakes. I don’t care. I just want to be with you.”

“I want to be with you, too, Y/N,” Frank vowed, kissing your eyes, your nose, your mouth. It was like he couldn’t get enough. “You’re the woman I choose….because, hey, there might be lots of women who’d love to be my New Year’s Eve kiss. But, you’re the only woman I know, who would stick by my side, helping me clean up bottles on New Year’s Day.”

#frank iero x reader #frank iero imagine #substance abuse tw

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sanderssidesfanfiction · 3 years

Text

If There’s a Place I Could Be - Chapter Seventy Two

If There’s a Place I Could Be Tag

November 11th, 2001

Emile sat at the table, staring at the letter he was holding with great consternation. Faith had written him, and he had written her back, talking about Remy and how they were getting along, and generally, how everything seemed nice and domestic lately. And Faith had replied, throwing Emile a curveball.

Would you marry him, Emile? It’s obvious to everyone you’ve written to that you love him. We’ve all talked about it at one point or another. We all think you should, if you love him as much as you say you do.

Emile didn’t know how to respond. Would he marry Remy? The mere thought felt like he was going to spiral into a panic attack. But at the same time...he couldn’t deny the warmth he felt in his chest about the idea.

He put the letter away, resolving to respond to it when he had a better answer than “I don’t know.” He knew Faith wouldn’t let the matter drop if he waffled on the decision.

September 20th, 2002

Emile couldn’t help but laugh as he saw a familiar face he knew all too well approaching him on campus. “Theo!” Emile exclaimed, running over and giving his friend a huge hug. “What’s up? I didn’t think you were coming to visit for a little while yet! I thought you’d still be sick of Fairview!”

Theo laughed and hugged Emile back. “I actually swung by to chat with you and Remy. I’m having housing issues and I was hoping you two might have some advice on finding a roomie and splitting rent, y’know? Falling in love is not required, but it is a plus.”

Emile laughed. “Well, you’re in luck, because I just finished my last class and I was heading to the parking lot. Remy’s not off his shift at the local coffee shop yet, but we can hang around the shop until he’s off and we can snag him, and you can come back to ours!” Theo nodded and they walked to the parking lot together. “So, what sort of housing problems are you having? Prices? Roommates? Lack of roommates?”

“All of the above?” Theo weakly joked. “My current roommates are barely pulling their weight, I can’t find new ones, and none of the half-decent places are in my price range, so if I move out, I have to settle for a run-down one room which probably has massive problems.”

“Yikes,” Emile said with a grimace. “That’s seriously not good.”

“Tell me about it,” Theo said. “You two made it look so easy, I don’t know how you did it. I’m ready to throttle my roommates at any given moment for stealing my food, invading my privacy in my room, or for inviting people over who inevitably trash the place.”

“I mean, the fact that Remy and I tolerated each other and had pretty clear boundaries from the start helped,” Emile said. “I have no doubt you tried to set boundaries, but I’m willing to bet those roommates of yours didn’t respect them, did they?”

“Not after the first few weeks, no,” Theo sighed. “And they brushed me off every time I tried to talk to them about it.”

“Ouch. You definitely need better roommates, Theo,” Emile said.

Theo nodded. “I don’t know anyone else in that area, though, unfortunately. I’m thinking about moving back here, however temporarily, because I know a few people here who might be willing to split rent with me.”

“That might be a good idea,” Emile agreed. “Provided you can stand being around the college you went to, that is.”

“Somehow I think I’ll live,” Theo laughed. “Like, some people might give me grief, but they’re my friends so I wouldn’t mind too much. The biggest problem, for me, is going to be finding a job in my field. Forensic science is all well and good until you’re forced to move back to a city with a low crime rating so all the spots where you might be able to work forensics have been filled for years.”

“Ooh, ouch,” Emile said with a wince.

“Yep,” Theo said with a strained laugh. “It’s...not great, for sure. I really need to find somewhere that I can work, and somewhere that I can afford my own place at the same time, y’know? But the housing market is ridiculously expensive, and I heard it’s only gonna get worse.”

Emile grimaced. “Yikes, yeah, I’ve heard inflation is getting pretty bad. I haven’t had to worry about it as much, but if you’re looking for a place...”

“It totally sucks, dude,” Theo said with absolute certainty, leaning back into the passenger seat of Emile’s car. “Oh, but since I’m here, and Remy’s not...how’s the project going, man?”

Emile offered Theo a big grin. “I’ve got the property,” he said, eyes lighting up. “Turns out it was almost gonna be demolished, because no one’s been picking it up. But it’s in good condition. All I really need is the inside and everything will be ready!”

“The inside is gonna take a while, though, you know that, right?” Theo asked. “Getting everything up to code, renovating what’s been getting run down, electricity, plumbing...”

“I know,” Emile said. “But I have the worst of it over with. The property’s bought. And I know Remy’s specifications for what he wants on the inside, and he’s none the wiser to the plan, and...man, this will be ready by mid to late December if everything goes right!”

“It could be your birthday present to him,” Theo lightly teased.

Emile gasped. “Oh my God, it could! Can you believe that, Theo?! I could make this Remy’s birthday gift! His very own shop!”

Theo laughed. “You’re such a mess, Emile. On one hand, you’re a highly skilled, well-rounded adult, but on the other, your emotions come into play and it’s like you’re a five year old on Christmas morning. And your emotions are always in play when it comes to Remy. Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice to see you being loving and excited and human, but your reasoning skills when you’re emotional?” Theo made a whistling noise with his teeth, “Out the window.”

“Hey! I’ve made good decisions when I’m emotional before!” Emile laughed.

“Yeah, because you put your emotions to the side. That’s not making rational decisions when emotional, that’s looking at things from a rational angle rather than an emotional one. And you do kinda bottle up those emotions when making the decisions, don’t think no one’s noticed.”

“I—well—yeah...” Emile reluctantly admitted. “Remy’s been helping me with that, though.”

“Yeah, he’s told me as much in his emails,” Theo said. “And I’m proud of both of you. You for allowing your emotions a place and a time, and Remy for being willing to help with that sort of thing instead of leaving you to your own devices.”

“We both have grown a lot,” Emile agreed as they pulled into the coffee shop parking lot.

Theo and Emile got out of the car and walked into the shop, Emile asking, “You want anything to drink? My treat.”

“I could take a small coffee,” Theo said.

Emile nodded and got in line, telling Theo, “Grab a table for both of us?”

Theo nodded and Emile couldn’t help the little smile on his lips. He was just having coffee with a friend. It shouldn’t seem all that important, but it felt strangely adult, and he didn’t know why that made him giddy, but it did. Just being able to sit down and complain about roommates and jobs and...just getting adjusted to the new normal that life was winding up being.

Emile placed their orders and found Theo sitting in a corner, and he gave Theo his coffee while Emile kept his tea. Theo waited until Emile was taking a sip of his tea before he asked, “So, are you gonna pop the question?”

Choking on his tea, Emile stared at Theo, who was shaking with silent laughter. “Theo!” he gasped. “Come on! That’s mean!”

“Well, I’m just wondering!” Theo asked innocently.

Emile sighed. “Well, it’s not exactly like we could get married anywhere yet,” he said. “It feels like a moot point.”

“It’s a symbolic thing, man. Even if you can only get a ‘civil union’ or whatever, the promise of staying together until the end of the line is there,” Theo said.

“But we already have that promise with each other,” Emile said, frowning.

“Precisely why I’m asking about this,” Theo said. “You’ve already got it, so when are you making it official?”

“Theo, believe me when I say whenever gay marriage is an option I will absolutely be marrying Remy. And it will be the best day of my life. But until it’s legalized, or at least it’s in the process of being legalized, I don’t see the point of getting a ring,” Emile said with a shrug. “Oh, and before I forget, when that day comes? You’d better be my best man.”

It was Theo’s turn to choke on his coffee. “Dude, you kidding me?! Of course I’d be your best man! I’m honored! But is there like, no one else you’d rather have?”

“Theo, the only person closer than you and our friend group in terms of friendship with me is Remy. And I’d be marrying him. I can’t exactly have him be my best man.”

Theo beamed. “Man, you’d better be inviting all your friends to this hypothetical wedding. That includes your high school ones. I can’t wait to embarrass you in front of them.”

“They knew me when I was thirteen, can’t get much more embarrassing than that,” Emile said simply.

“Ooh, I’d love to pick up some stories from them,” Theo said, grinning and rubbing his hands.

Emile laughed just as Remy walked over. “What’s the deal with this party without me?”

“Remy!” Theo exclaimed, standing up and hugging Remy.

Remy returned the hug with a grin. “Good to see you, man. What’s up?”

“Housing issues, actually,” Theo said. “I need your and Emile’s advice about finding new roomies.”

“And in the process, try and get us to get engaged, apparently,” Emile said drily.

“What, we’re not married already?” Remy asked with a laugh.

Emile snorted and Theo said, “Nah, man. You haven’t tied the knot. I would know, I’m Emile’s best man, and he hasn’t stuck me in a tux yet.”

Remy grinned. “Well, that’s great and all, except for me, because now I have to find a different best man for the big day.”

“Yeah, I’m not making two best man speeches,” Theo laughed. “Would you seriously ask me, though?”

Remy shrugged. “I dunno, man. Like, thinking about it, I never really planned out a wedding for anyone I had crushed on or dated. And Toby was gonna be my best man, because I asked him once and he promised...but since we lost contact...” Remy shrugged. “You’d be an excellent second choice. But I’ll figure something else out.”

“All right,” Theo laughed.

“You officially off the clock, Rem?” Emile asked.

“Yup,” Remy said. “And ready to go home.”

“Oh, man, I wish I could say that,” Theo bemoaned.

“Yeah, let’s talk about your housing, man, what’s up?” Remy asked.

As Theo explained what was going on and they walked out of the shop, Emile’s gears were whirring. He would definitely need to find Toby soon. Especially considering that sooner or later he knew he would be finding a ring for Remy. He didn’t know when that might be, but Theo was right. The promise of staying together until the end of the line deserved something important.

It was funny, though. The thought of marrying Remy just felt...inherently right. As Remy and Emile fought over who should drive the car back to their apartment, Emile considered marrying anyone else, of any gender, of anyone he had previously dated, and it never rung as true as what he felt when imagining marrying Remy.

Remy won the argument for driving the car and Emile slid into the passenger seat, glancing at Theo in the back. “You know what, Theo? You’re right.”

Theo grinned. “I know I am, dude. But I’m glad that you can see that too.”

“He’s right about what?” Remy asked.

“One day, I’m gonna marry you,” Emile said simply.

“Oh,” Remy said. “I mean, yeah? Marriage is terrifying, but there’s no one I’d rather marry.”

“I’m glad we’re in agreement,” Emile said.

“Do you know when you’re gonna propose?” Remy asked.

“Not yet,” Emile said. “Need to find a ring first, figure out the right moment. But I’m definitely proposing to you.”

“Not if I do it first, buddy,” Remy said with a wicked grin.

“Oh, it is on,” Emile said.

Theo laughed. “Are you two really turning proposals into a competition?” he asked.

“Best proposal wins the excuse to kiss the other person for a solid minute,” Emile said solemnly.

“Oh, you are so on!” Remy exclaimed with a laugh.

Theo just cackled at their antics.

#if there's a place i could be #sanders sides fanfiction #remile #emile picani #ts sleep

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sunshine-shitposts · 3 years

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ALRIGHT. First selfship piece is going UP. I got some big inspiration from @amethystsoda and @dongiovannaswife so like... love you guys 💖💖 no stinky vampire man... yet. Hoping to get the next part up within the next week.

Dust in the Wind—Part 1

It had been a while since Jotaro had been to the Dallas Speedwagon Foundation Headquarters, and it had since moved locations to outside downtown… somewhere.

It was a damn pain if you asked him.

Dallas was a mess to move around in; you were better off on foot, since there were so many one-way streets. His grandfather had explained, the first time that he had brought his grandson to the Foundation in Dallas, that it was probably because car size in America outgrew the more narrow streets that Dallas began with. Jotaro himself didn't really understand it until he saw for himself: Texans loved big cars. There was an astonishing amount of pick up trucks here, compared to other places he'd been.

He wasn't very familiar with Texas, he had to admit. He'd visited Galveston and Corpus Christi more often for marine work, though he had to admit to himself that they weren't his favorite places in terms of the ocean; this side of the coastline of the Gulf of Mexico tended to have a lot of sediment in its water. When he stayed at a house in a place called Crystal Beach for a while, he remembered how searching for hermit crabs with a colleague was rather annoying due to the brown murkiness of the water.

The houses on stilts were quite novel, though.

...That was enough reminiscing.

Jotaro huffed, figuring he could just go to the old location to ask for assistance—it was still being used by the Foundation despite it not being the main building anymore—when a bright voice floated through the air.

"Hey, mom. Y'got everything?"

"Yes, but it's a lot, you know, they turned in projects… can you open the trunk?"

"'Course, no problem. Gimme a sec…"

Jotaro looked up from his map, seeing a young woman helping her mother begin to load several large rolled up cardboard tubes into the back seat of a small blue hatchback.

The woman was dressed comfortably, a boon in the blossoming Texas heat, with a black wide-brimmed hat and minty-colored sunglasses and a lazy smile on her face. She couldn't have been more than an inch over five feet, and her wavy purple hair fluttered in the wind. What didn't look conducive to staying cool were the dark, full-length leggings under her jean shorts or the knee-length, full sleeve knit cardigan, but he knew what it felt like to have a comfort jacket. Her mother, several inches taller than her, was well (albeit colorfully) dressed with a lanyard and ID swinging around her neck, and a mobile folding cart filled with books, folders, and cardboard tubes. The mother's hair, a light silvery-blonde that fell around her shoulders, made Jotaro wonder if they were actually related, but he admitted to himself that stranger things do happen, and hair dye did exist.

Jotaro hummed to himself and looked back at the map as a gust of wind between the tall buildings sent papers scattering, the mother crying out in dismay.

"Sunnie–!!"

"Don't worry mom, I got it."

Jotaro watched the paper of his map flutter suddenly and unexpectedly, swooping in the opposite direction that it had been previously. It was such a sudden change that Jotaro looked back up from the map, only to see all the papers floating through the air to finally gather into the young woman's outstretched hand.

"I'll never ever understand how you can do that," the mother said, her voice equal parts thankfulness and bafflement, "And I don't think I ever will."

"You keep saying that, y'know," her daughter laughed, easily hefting the heavy folding cart into the trunk of her car.

"I know!! But it's true, it's like magic! But real!!"

Jotaro focused his gaze on the young woman.

Stand users are drawn to each other.

When the two women were nearly finished loading all of the mother's things into the car, he approached them, trying to relax his intense demeanor as much as possible. The woman's mother reminded him a lot of his own, and he didn't want to frighten her.

"Excuse me," he asked, fishing around in a pocket inside his coat to pull out his notebook. The two women turned to look at him, the mother's eyebrows raising as she made an 'oooh' noise. Her daughter's expression, however, was completely unreadable behind her large sunglasses, but Jotaro felt her gaze. Her carefree attitude had suddenly disappeared, and he knew that she was likely sizing him up. He wondered if she, too, felt the same weird restlessness in her own chest. "I was wondering if you could tell me how to get here," he continued. Her mother leaned in to see the address written on the notebook's page, then lit up like a kid on Christmas morning.

"Sunnie! He's asking about the Speedwagon Foundation!"

Immediately, the daughter seemed to relax, looking at the page as well. "Oh, no shit?" After another second, her eyebrows rose above her sunglasses. "Oh! No shit!!"

"You know of it?" Jotaro asked, putting the notebook back into the chest pocket.

"Know of it? I'm heading there, after I drop mom back off at the house," the younger woman laughed, extending her arm for a handshake. "I'm Sunnie Green, recently employed by the Foundation. Good to meet you, Mr…?"

"Jotaro Kujo," he replied, accepting the shake and subsequently drowning her small hand in his own. Her shake was strong and firm and confident in a pleasantly unexpected way.

The second he said his name, though, a wry grin broke out on her face.

"No fuckin' way," Sunnie said, surprised, "I have heard some stories. Good to meet you in the flesh. Foundation's been expecting you."

Jotaro grunted. He knew that after his 'trip' to Egypt all those years ago, people at the Foundation liked to gossip about him, and he had hoped that those tales and rumors had died down, but it seemed that they'd persisted. He wondered if they'd only gotten more wild with time. "Well. That aside, if you could point me in the right direction, it would be much appreciated."

"Well, uh, it's not quite in Dallas anymore? It's a bit away from here, so uh…" Sunnie trailed off, her face scrunching up in thought.

"Sunnie," her mom stage-whispered, "Sunnie, you should drive him there."

"Huh-whaa?" Sunnie looked at her mom, eyes wide, then nodded like a lightbulb went off over her head, crossing her arms and grinning, "Yeah!! Yeah, that just makes sense. That makes so much sense!!"

"That won't be necessary–" Jotaro began, but Sunnie shot him a confident grin.

"Don't be silly! This is the perfect solution. It's late in the day, getting a taxi or rideshare there will cost you money you don't need to spend, I mean come on. I'm right here, dude. I gotcha." The smaller woman laughed and put the final bag of papers in the trunk of her car, shutting the door. "I'm not taking no for an answer. And mom?" she looked at her mom expectantly, who smiled widely.

"I'll sit in the back!" She beamed before looking back up at Jotaro, "That way you don't have to sit with all the projects."

Without giving him the chance to offer otherwise, Mrs. Green made her way to the back seat, opening the door and getting in. Jotaro breathed a quiet sigh, gathering himself before he walked to the front passenger's door and opened it. He did not miss Sunnie's triumphant smirk before he ducked inside. To his surprise, it was actually roomy inside the small car. At least, roomy enough to be comfortable for him. There was some music softly playing over the speakers and a water bottle in one of the cupholders, and dangling off of the rearview mirror were some small pom poms and repurposed cell phone charms, several of them Pokémon. In a little storage area under the main console, he saw a lanyard with an ID decorated with the Speedwagon Foundation logo on it.

Sunnie got in the car as well, buckling up and shifting out of park, turning smoothly into the street when it was safe.

"I'm excited for you to go to the new Foundation Headquarters, Mr. Kujo," Mrs. Green chirped, hands patting her bright red jeans excitedly, "Some of my former students helped decorate the interior! I'm very proud of their work."

"Mom's an interior design professor," Sunnie laughed, "Used to get hired for private homes and hospitals and stuff. There was that one home on White Rock with the spiral staircase? Fucking dope."

"I still talk to them," her mom said airily, "Sometimes I stop by for cookies."

Jotaro didn't quite know how to respond. The two women were very open and friendly and it was making him feel… strange. Was it just a Texan thing in general? Joseph had once mentioned 'Southern Hospitality'. Then again, who could say? The old man liked to talk for the sake of talking sometimes.

He caught a minute glance from Sunnie, who then leaned her head back, a lazy grin on her face.

"So mom, what're all those projects in the back?" She asked, "No balsa wood models this time? That was a nightmare to transport."

"But those were group projects and they were light weight! These plans are deceptively heavy and there are so many–"

As Carol rambled on about the projects sitting around her, Jotaro found himself happy that Sunnie seemingly sensed his discomfort and acted on his behalf to divert her mother's attention. He zoned out, his mind stuck on the impending meeting—one that he had never imagined he would have to have, and one that was admittedly making him feel a little sick in his stomach.

The red brick house they arrived at was in a quiet little subdivision about 40 minutes in traffic away from Downtown Dallas, lined with large trees and with a nice pond. The houses were all two stories, most driveways accessible from the street, and the summer warmth and ample sunshine had the lawns dotted with flowers of many colors. Sunnie parked the car in front of the pebbled sidewalk to the house, and the large dark blue front door opened. A salt-and-pepper haired man with a moustache walked out, wearing an old shirt and jeans and carrying a duffle bag. Sunnie and Mrs. Green got out of the car, and Jotaro decided to get out as well.

The man, presumably Mr. Green, seemed surprised. "I doubt one of your students turned him in," he laughed nonetheless. Mrs. Green giggled.

"No, no! He's with the Foundation!" Mrs. Green explained, and her husband rolled his eyes.

"I was kidding, Carol," he said, voice deadpan. Sunnie snickered.

"We found him looking for the new campus downtown, so I offered to take him there. Speaking of, we gotta get this stuff outta the Spaceship so we can head out," Sunnie turned to Jotaro, "This won't take too long–"

"I'll help," he told her, "Least I can do."

Sunnie paused, pursed her lips, and nodded.

With four sets of hands, unloading took no time at all, but Jotaro once again noted that Sunnie seemed stronger than her smaller size let on. At the end of it, her dad handed her the duffle bag, which she tossed in the back seat.

"See you in a few days," she said, hugging her parents, "Don't get too wild without me around."

"Darn. We'll have to cancel that crazy party," her dad grinned, and she smacked him on the arm.

Jotaro got back into the car with Sunnie, and she drove them out of the subdivision.

"…Do you live with your parents?" Jotaro asked, a sudden burst of curiosity getting the better of him. Sunnie looked at him out of the corner of her eye for a brief second, then turned her gaze back to the road as she flipped on her turn signal.

"I left my husband recently," she said, smoothly turning onto the service road, and Jotaro suddenly felt incredibly awkward, "Got out of the apartment as fast as I could. Grabbed a few things, said goodbye to the dog, and fucking split. It was really sudden, and since I don't have that much money to my name and my husband currently is in control of my finances, living with my parents is easier. I'm actually in my childhood room right now, when I stay at the house." She laughed dryly, merging onto the turnpike.

"Mm," Jotaro simply responded, and Sunnie laughed.

"It's not weird, dude, come on. Chill," she said, passing a particularly large eighteen wheeler and switching two lanes to the left, "I mean, it's kinda weird. But it's fine. I don't mind. I've heard a lot about you from some of the other employees already, I think it's fair that you know about me, if just a little." She looked at him briefly, eyes twinkling. "You're kind of a hot topic at the Foundation, you know."

Jotaro shifted in his seat and looked out his window.

"Which brings me to an important point," she continued, "I know why you're here."

Immediately, he looked back at her, eyes narrowing. That was supposed to be need-to-know information.

"I'm a Liaison for the Speedwagon Foundation. That's my official title, but I have a very specific job, and he is why you're here."

"You mean you–"

"Yes, and I'm aware of your history with him. Well, with the one from here." Her finger tapped the steering wheel pointedly. "I know you don't like him, that you have reason to not like him, and I know you won't like this one. But I'm imploring you not to start shit with him when you see him, okay? I've told him not to start shit with you so, you know, if you would be so kind."

Jotaro audibly gritted his teeth. This was just his fucking luck, running into that bastard's babysitter. "What makes you think he'd listen to you?" He growled.

"I don't know? He's been cool with me so far." She snorted. "I mean, he's an absolute piece of work, but it's been alright. No worse than teaching a class full of preschoolers can get on a bad day, but I did have to… establish that I can take care of myself against him."

"And how did you do that?"

"I stole his air," she said simply, "Made it impossible for him to breathe."

"Have you ever done that before? To someone else."

Her mouth fidgeted, eyes unreadable. They passed under the tollway in silence, broken by soft, ghastly wind chimes as a shimmering turquoise hand with a swirling wing shape on the wrist partially manifested on her shoulder, squeezing lightly before vanishing.

"You'll have to buy me a few drinks before I talk about that." Her voice was short, clipped. "I'm sure you have similar unlockable content you don't talk about otherwise."

It was a weird way to put it, but she was right. He did.

So he dropped the subject, looking back out the window.

"By the way, Catherine—Mrs. Gupta, rather—is here today, too," she said, tone easily switching from icy and guarded to light and airy, "She's the Regional COO, though I'm sure you know that. I'm told that she's the one who contacted you, after all."

Jotaro did not feel like answering. He didn't know what to say.

Sunnie merely glanced at him again, grinned to herself, and kept driving.

After Sunnie showed her credentials and pulled through the gated entrance of the new Dallas Speedwagon Foundation HQ, Jotaro let his eyebrows raise in surprise.

The previous location, having been built when Robert E. O. Speedwagon himself had struck black gold in Texas, was (while large) old, and it showed in its architecture and the relative closeness of the buildings. This, however, was a sprawling, modern campus with green spaces and fountains galore.

"We've got seven buildings here, but we'll be heading to the main one. Explore later if you'd like," Sunnie explained easily, searching for a parking spot. "I may be a… honestly kind of critical Subject Liaison, but I still don't have a dedicated parking space. That's fine, however," She lifted her finger and grinned, the sound of windchimes clinking in the air as her Stand fully manifested: lithe, vaguely robotic, feminine, and lined with light turquoise and shimmery silver. The face was mostly featureless and smooth like a plain mask, save for two large and sleek wing-like shapes on the sides, and two calculating but blank amber eyes. "We'll have her take care of this for us."

The Stand wiggled its fingers excitedly, then zoomed out of the roof of the car, unimpeded by the physical barrier. Jotaro watched, blank faced, then asked what could have been considered a very personal question.

"What's it's range?"

"Dust in the Wind's most powerful up to about six to nine feet from me, but she can and will travel quite far." That's… two to three meters, Jotaro translated in his head. "The further she gets, the less effective she is, but she's curious. She likes looking for things."

Jotaro huffed out the barest hint of a chuckle, remembering his time in jail before his trip to Egypt—how Star Platinum had brought him toys, beer, and reading materials in an attempt to placate him.

"I thought up this little tactic in college, since parking was shit there. It was cut-throat, honestly, so Windy helped scope out all the good spots." The Stand swooped down in front of the car and began nodding and pointing, motioning for them to follow. "Oh fuck yeah, it's a good one," Sunnie said happily before following as her Stand danced through the air in front of them, gracefully carving through the air. "She's playful. That's how I, uh, originally met… you know."

Jotaro looked at her, slightly confused. "Your Stand found him?"

She nodded, rounding a row of cars. "You know that weird feeling we got when we saw each other? How Stand users just kind of… know when other Stand users are around? I felt that when I first came here. She immediately jumped out and disappeared to find the source and found, well, him. Then he demanded to see the user, and bam," She shrugged, keeping one hand on the steering wheel, "We met."

Jotaro found himself grimacing at the mention of that man demanding anything and getting it. That piece of shit didn't deserve fuck all, in his opinion.

"Ah! There," Sunnie mumbled, pulling into a spot a row away from the front sidewalk. "She was right, it is good."

As she turned off the car and they both stepped out, Windy flew back to her user, nuzzling her face and disappearing. Sunnie grabbed her backpack and duffle bag from the backseat and they headed down the large sidewalk, lined with magnolias and sparkling water features.

"The old Speedwagon Foundation buildings are actually currently used for housing… supernatural objects. Like Stands tethered to items, fragments of pillars… there's this weird broken sword there that apparently possesses people, but when it does it just begs to be fixed," Sunnie rambled, shoving a hand in her long cardigan's pocket. Jotaro had to catch a breath, recalling that fight where Polnareff had indeed been possessed. That thing was here now? "This facility does a lot of R&D, field agent training, the like. Dallas has a lot of big companies around so they have some good deals, like with TI and stuff."

"You know a lot for someone who hasn't even been here for four months," Jotaro mumbled, glaring at the small woman. She glanced at him with a lazy smirk, the frog bell on her decorated backpack jingling softly as she walked next to him.

"I actually used to be in politics. Handled VAN data in my last campaign, but my strong suit was research. Following the money, making connections, y'know, all that mess," she said, tone light, "I know my way around things. Donor lists, requesting things under the FOIA, the like. I wanted to get a good picture of the Foundation before I thought about working here. And the rumors about their involvement in… supernatural matters interested me."

They walked through the large sliding glass doors into a cooled, busy lobby, shiny and sleek and new. Reflective surfaces, swooping centerpieces, statement greenery… it was impressive. What Jotaro did not appreciate was the eyes he felt on him the second he had walked in and the whispers that he knew were dancing around.

"Oh, Miss Green?" a receptionist pipped up upon seeing her, "And Dr. Kujo, oh!" The young man quickly patted down his curly chestnut hair, "I wasn't expecting you to–a-arrive together, huh. Well, Mrs. Gupta is waiting for you."

"Thanks, Mikel," Sunnie smiled, waltzing past the desk and towards a central elevator. Jotaro nodded his head slightly to the nervous young man as he continued to follow the smaller woman, stepping into the elevator. Sunnie leaned down (she didn't have to go too far) for a retina and thumb print scan, and the doors closed, the elevator smoothly starting up. They rode in silence, until the doors opened to a series of sterile white hallways.

"We're well underground, so you know," Sunnie mentioned as they began walking again. "It's easier to keep him down here with no threat of sunlight. The trick is that these lights outside his suite have a bit of UV in them. Sort of like how they keep the Pillar Man in D.C.," she informed him as they took a left, walking towards a large white double door. "Remember," she said pointedly, "No fights."

She leaned in for another eye and hand scan, and they passed through a short hall and through another sliding double door.

The first thing Jotaro saw in this more lavishly designed room was a tall, lithe, dark skinned woman with close-shaven hair wearing a golden pencil skirt and a deep forest green satin blouse, and stilettos that easily brought her close to his own height. Her expensive-looking gold jewelry and hoop earrings seemed to glitter as she turned her head towards the door, and her glossy dark red lips split into a dazzling grin.

"Sunnie! I see you've brought our guest," she said in a low voice like honey, lightly accented and melodic.

"Yep! I'm surprised he fit in my car," the smaller woman chirped as she walked into the room, "You didn't mention how tall he is."

The woman held out a well manicured hand, which Jotaro shook. "My name is Catherine Gupta. I became the regional COO of the Dallas branch of the Speedwagon Foundation a few months ago. It's good to meet you, Dr. Kujo."

"Call me Jotaro," he said, glowering at the door beyond them, "I'm assuming that's where he is?"

Mrs. Gupta nodded. "These newer facilities have several suites, some aboveground, some underground, for various purposes, if needed," she said, "When he came to us, it just made sense to stick him down here, where he is both protected and contained."

"Throwing him in a blender would be preferable," Jotaro grumbled, and Mrs. Gupta laughed lightly.

"Yes, yes, I'm aware of the Joestars' history with him," she said, shaking her head a bit, "The Foundation has extensive files on what happened in Britain all those years ago, as well as what you and your group went through. I've reviewed all of these multiple times to understand the situation fully."

"Well if that's the case, why the hell was I only recently informed of… this??" He gestured to the door beyond them, far past trying to hide the venomous rumble in his voice.

She pursed her full lips, "I wanted to tell you sooner, and believe me, I did everything in my power to convince my then-higher ups to let you know, but they were determined to keep it a secret from you and any other members of the Joestar bloodline. I felt that keeping it from you, however, was a moral failing. So I simply took the power I needed to make this happen."

He had to admit, he was impressed. She had said it so matter-of-factly that one might mistake it for an easy task, but he was aware that it almost definitely wasn't. The roiling rage he felt building inside his chest simply from being in proximity to that piece of shit subsided somewhat. "You have my thanks, then," he said quietly, "Does the Don know?"

Having been quiet up until that point, Sunnie shifted and the little frog shaped bell charm jingled, her head cocking to the side curiously. Jotaro took this to mean that she was unaware of his family tree.

"I'm still working on clearing that. I'm sure you're aware that there are a few more hoops to jump through when it comes to navigating our relationship with Passione," Mrs. Gupta chuckled. Hearing the name of the infamous Italian mafia, Sunnie's eyes blew wide and she covered her mouth slightly to whisper, 'yooooooo, what the shit, my dude', before Mrs. Gupta shot her a knowing smirk. "You would have found out soon enough, Sunnie. Just keep it secret for now, especially from him," she looked in the door's direction, and the shorter woman nodded enthusiastically.

"You got it, boss," she said, grinning widely, "Is… is the Don of Passione is a Joestar?"

"Indeed he is," Mrs. Gupta nodded, and Sunnie nearly flailed, whisper-shouting 'yo what the SHIT' again, causing the taller woman to laugh, "Though, I'll let you in on that later."

"Dope," Sunnie giggled, before noticing a tupperware box on one of the tables. "Oh～? And this is?"

"Murgh makhani from Janpreet. He made extra," Mrs. Gupta said warmly, before shooting Jotaro a glance. "My husband," she explained as an afterthought.

"FUCK yeah, tell him I say thanks," Sunnie giggled.

"Will do."

Jotaro had mostly tuned the two women out, however; he was staring at the door, glowering. Mrs. Gupta and Sunnie shared a glance.

"Welllll, I know you don't like him, but here we go. Time to face the music, I guess?" Sunnie said as she turned, her long cardigan following behind her as she nodded her head towards the door.

Mrs. Gupta raised an eyebrow at Jotaro, gesturing for him to go before her. He took a breath and turned to the door, steeling his soul and narrowing his eyes.

It was time to face Dio.

ゴゴゴゴゴ...

(Part 2)

#SunnieD #sunnie writes #SORRY GUYS I'M NOIVUSS

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infinite-rabbits · 4 years

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Emergency: Please help

So this happened yesterday. I made a few posts of it here and was messing around on tumblr to distract myself from all of the stress, but now the seriousness of the situation is really hitting us.

My roommate and I are both out of work due to Corvid-19. We’re not sure if we’re getting paid for our time away and there isn’t much communication from our jobs. Yesterday we got hit hard enough from someone who was gunning it out of a parking lot that they totaled the car. I know this doesn’t look like a lot of damage, but apparently the frame is completely messed up and the insurance company is going to take the car and possibly give us enough to replace it??

The worst part about this is that we had barely enough money to last over the next two months being out of work. We had rent covered, food, and bills once we pooled our money together.

But now we have to loose a huge chunk of that money because he has to pay the deductible on the insurance.

So I’m going to do what I really wished I would never have to do. I have to ask for your help. Please, if you can donate anything at all, doesn’t matter how big or little it is, you can send it to me through my Ko-Fi: HERE Or you can IM me and I can give you the address my paypal is linked to. If you can’t donate, please please please just reblog this. The more people see it, the better.

Thank you for any help you can give, little or small, it means the world to us.

Full Story of what happened under the cut:

So uh... we ran out of bread last night and we're close to being out of PB&J. This morning we decided to go out and get some more because, well, it's hard to get ahold of because everyone's panicking and it's one of the main things in our diet right now. The roomie and I headed for Walmart, and while we were on a 2-lane road in the left lane, some douchenozzle shoves his way through the heavy traffic out of a parking-lot and rams us on my side. We weren't even going that fast. We were actually coming up to a stop-light, so my roomie was slowing down. He hit us hard enough to make us spin-out and do a full 180degree turn. The back passenger door was absolutely wrecked and I was lucky he didn't hit MY door, but because he hit my side, I'm really starting to hurt now. The back driver wheel hit the median while we spun and it actually hit so hard that it knocked the wheel itself off of the rim and scraped the metal. Somehow we didn't hit another car and we wound up in the right-hand lane completely turned around and facing the wrong direction. I was SO pissed that I got out of the car and screamed at the guy. Both of us were shaking and I was choking because when he hit us, some white stuff flew into the car and I breathed it in. Still kinda choking on it. (Found out later it was probably the stirofoam that was under his bumper.) I manage to kinda stop traffic enough for us to get the car out of the lane and into the parking lot beside us, after which we realized that we couldn't drive any further because of the wheel being messed up. He stayed in the median and called for someone while we called the cops and the insurance company. Then I noticed there was a damn kid in his car. She was like, 2-3 years old and didn't look like she'd been strapped in because she was just climbing from the back to the front seat to see what was going on. He sped through fucking traffic and t-boned us with a kid in the back seat. This whole time, he's over there refusing to come and talk to us until someone else shows up. Turns out, he needs a translator. That's fine. In our area we get a lot of tourists so I just assumed he wasn't from around here. I would have assumed his car was a rental if it hadn't been for the brand new paper license plate. They get their car into the parking lot too and his bumper is all but falling off. A lady shows up to take care of the kid, which seems fine. But then another guy shows up. Then another guy. And Grandma shows up too. For some reason the whole family shows up and are hanging around while we wait for the cop. Normally I wouldn't care, but being surrounded by this many people while I'm already anxious was a bit much for me and made me uncomfortable. I'd already called a friend and cried over the phone with her and being surrounded made me feel stressed. Finally the cop shows up, gets our stories and our information, then goes into his car for basically an hour to have to fill everything out and get it all in order. Luckily we just get given a sheet of paper with all of the information we need on it. Then he glances at them and says to us, "They're gonna be pissed." He wound up getting a ticket among who knows what else because of his reckless driving. The cop leaves and they're visibly angry. Then one of the guys who showed up approaches us. Something about him immediately rubbed me the wrong way, like I got a bad vibe from him. He asks us if we're alright, and I tell him no because our car's wrecked and I'm starting to hurt. Then he tries to get us to lie. Like the dude straight up look sat my roommate and says, "If they ask what happened, tell them--" I have NEVER cut someone off so fast before. I told him: " NO. If they ask, we are going to tell them EXACTLY what happened." And this douche has the NERVE to say: "Well next time you really shouldn't be going so fast. Then you can stop when something like this happens." Like, he's legit trying to turn this around to be my roomie's fault. Keep in mind: we were coming up to a stop light. We were actively slowing down. The speed limit in there is 45. My roomie couldn't have possibly been going more than 35 at the absolute most, and even that's pushing it. I just GLARE at this guy and say: "NO. Even the COP said WE HAVE THE RIGHT OF WAY. HE hit US. You need to walk away." I'm... I'm tiny. I'm not even fully 5'6" and I'm sitting here in my stupid Jurassic Park tank top and hole-filled shorts just glaring daggers at this guy. Don't you dare come at me with your stupid scorpion gold chain necklace thinking you're all big and bad and thinking you're going to intimidate me when you're outright coming after my roommate. I'm a wuss when someone comes after ME and I'm by myself, but you put me in a room with people I care about and have someone go after them? All bets are off. Thankfully he just got pissed off and turned away. The whole family climbed into the back of their other van except for like two who went into the translator's car, and they all drove off. For like an hour. We were left sitting there trying to contact the insurance company again, making sure they got all of the files they needed, making sure they got their statements, and figuring out if it was getting towed tonight or not. Then the translator and one of the other guys show up and start messing with their van. First they back it up...and the bumper nearly completely falls off. Then they sit there for a few minutes and try to get it on. The guy driving it goes very slowly out of the parking lot, leaving his entire front in the right-hand lane for some reason while he's waiting to go and then finally does. The other guy on the other hand almost causes another accident. So he's behind a truck that's also waiting to turn out. When the truck goes to pull out, this dumbass SLAMS down on his gas, nearly rear-ends the truck, slams on his breaks, and then once the truck is out of the way, he zooms out of the parking lot without properly looking to make sure no one else is coming. I really don't understand it. But from the looks of things, they probably aren't going to be calling their own insurance company. The car wasn't even registered under the guy that rammed us. It was someone else's name of the same address. So he just wrecked someone else's newly bought car. All of it sucks, my roommate's car is totaled and we are gonna see if we're getting any money for it tomorrow, and I'm in pain so the insurance company is gonna have to send me a doctor over all of this. We're out $500 for the deductible and I'm.... honestly really frustrated. All of this because of Bread, Peanutbutter, and Jelly. Thankfully a friend of ours came to pick us up and also brought us those three things, but now the adrenaline is starting to wear off and I'm getting *really* tired. I'm going to get myself some coffee and try my best to focus on the one-shot I started before the crash just to keep myself awake for now. For the most part I was typing all of this here because it's a safe place to store the information in case I forget anything. But also I kinda wanted to let you guys know why I hadn't posted anything yet. I was saying I wanted to do one short-story a day and I fell behind yesterday because I was doing character-designs for one of the other stories. So I feel guilty falling behind today too. Even if I do have a good reason for it. Stay safe out there, everyone. It's getting really crazy.

#psa #emergency #money emergency #car accident #please help

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imzadi-caskett-huddy · 4 years

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In My Veins (3/?)

House, M.D. Fanfic

Thanks to everyone for reading and for the notes left. I really do like reading your thoughts, so keep them coming. Also, those worried about House and Cuddy getting back together quickly, don't worry. It's not that simple, no matter what was in the last chapter and what you might think after this chapter. Also, fair disclaimer, I might have some details wrong as far as what happened at the end of the show... sorry, just go with it. And I know Cameron was gone... she's back because without Wilson, I needed a but of a sounding board. She won't be annoying, don't worry.

My song companion piece for this chapter is APOCALYPTIC by Halestorm. You can find it on Youtube. Great band, and it really inspired the ending. Also if I actually owned House and characters, I wouldn't have to write fanfic...I just would have made it all canon, so there's that.

A huge thank you to @love-hope-faith-feels-like-a-lie on Tumblr for helping to brainstorm a but and for reading all my stuff and helping edit and give feedback on what works and what doesn't. Enjoy!

xxxxx

"House isn't dead?"

Cuddy looked up from her desk to see Dr. Cameron entering her office with the memo she had sent out to everyone on the board about hiring House. "I know. I rehired him."

"No, I know. I just meant... you're not surprised? How long have you known?"

"Wilson told me at the funeral." She went back to her work then like it was no big deal. It really wasn't to her at this point.

Cameron was quiet for a moment, digesting all of this. "So you've known this whole time that he faked his death? Why didn't you say anything?"

"It wasn't my place."

"It wasn't your place to let everyone who was grieving know that he was alive?"

Cuddy had a 'seriously' look on her face when she glanced up from her file. It was House... the only two people legitimately grieving for him were Cuddy and Wilson. "No, it wasn't. I was no longer his boss. I was no longer his girlfriend."

"Why?"

Cuddy breathed deeply. "I was already gone. Wilson was dying. He wanted to be there for his best friend for once. I wasn't going to be the one who stood in his way."

Cameron was quiet again. "You're still in love with him."

Cuddy's eyes widened. "I am not...I'm the one who ended things. He drove a car through my house!"

"And you still love him," Cameron insisted.

"I left to get away from him."

"Leaving someone doesn't mean you stop loving them."

"Is that why you're back here working at the same hospital as Chase?" Cuddy deflected then.

Cameron was quiet for a moment. "Is that why you rehired him?" she countered with a pointed look.

Cuddy sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I hired him to keep an eye on him. Wilson was all he had. I just want to make sure he's not going to self destruct more than normal."

Cameron just shook her head. She could see House entering the hospital through the glass door of Cuddy's office. "I hope you know what you're doing, otherwise the hospital is going to be ground zero when the time bomb goes off."

The two women exitted the office and walked out of the clinic just in time to hear House's declaration. "Ladies and gentlemen, I have cured death!" he started. "Elvis is back in the building. If you've got questions, direct them toward Dr. Cuddy," he pointed in the direction of her office in the clinic with his cane. He then started toward the elevator.

Cameron simply looked at Cuddy, as did the other staff in the lobby. "Yeah, this isn't going to blow up at all," she said sarcastically, walking away from the mess House had seemingly already made.

Cuddy closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "House, my office," she called before he could get too far.

He stopped and smiled slightly. "I knew it wouldn't be long before she just had to have me," he commented as he passed the nurse's station on the way into the clinic. "You bellowed?" He smirked as her office door closed.

She wasn't going to let him get to her. She wasn't going to bring up the kiss or anything about them. This was all going to be professional. "Maybe give the staff a few days to readjust to you before you start making bold declarations like you did this morning. Most of them are still shocked to see you alive."

"You mean you didn't post my picture all over the hospital and announce my out of retirement tour? Bummer," he commented.

She rolled her eyes. "The only people who got a memo was the board of directors. I have to notify them of any new doctor I hire in as a department head. Or in your case, a co-head."

He arched an eyebrow. "Co-head? I don't share my dictator power, you know that."

"Well you're going to have to learn. Dr. Chase took over diagnostic medicine when you left. He's done a good job, and I'm not going to demote him just because you've come back."

"Chase stole my department?"

"You left, House, that's not stealing. The hospital wasn't going to just keep the department around without an attending to run it. Chase was the most qualified. And he takes more than one case at a time," she countered, taking a seat behind her desk and crossing her arms. It was the safest place for her right then. It kept a barrier between them.

"You're really keeping him in charge of my department?"

"He's not in charge. You're both in charge. It's a good thing, House. It's going to let you ease back in. It gives you the puzzle you need. And Chase isn't Foreman... he's not going to butt heads with you or override you. I'm the only one who gets stuck in that particular level of hell."

He didn't like that arrangement, particularly, but she did have a point. Chase wasn't as bad as Foreman. He could usually manipulate Chase into getting what he wanted. "This isn't going to work," he said simply before leaving to begin the familiar walk back to his old office. He knew she wasn't going to give in, so he was stuck in the situation, at least for now.

When he stepped off the elevator, he walked down the familiar hallway. He passed by a familiar office and stopped long enough to give it a look, seeing the new name on the door. Taking a deep breath he continued on until he pushed open his old door with his cane and stepped inside.

"House..." Chase looked up from the file he was starting to review. "You're not dead."

He just gave the other man a look. "Clearly." He moved further into the office, going to the desk and dropping his bag, looking out the window toward the balcony that was on the back of what used to be Wilson's office. He breathed deeply again before grabbing his bag and turning to leave the office just as quickly as he'd come in.

"House!" Chase started.

"If you've got questions, call Cuddy," he called over his shoulder.

"We have a case!" Chase called from the open office door, only to see House continue walking. "House!"

House got on the elevator and went back to the main floor. He marched right back into Cuddy's office, past her objecting assistant. "I need a new office," he stated, leaning on his cane as he stood in front of her desk.

She took another moment before looking up from her file. "What's wrong with your old office?"

"Don't like it. Chase made it into a shrine for his ex-wife."

Cuddy just rolled her eyes and went back to her work. "You aren't getting a new office."

"I can't work in my old office. And while we're on the topic of needs...I need to hire a new team."

She looked up again and leaned back in her chair since he clearly was not going away. "You don't need to hire a team. The Diagnostics Department is already fully staffed with a team of excellent doctors."

"That's Team Chase. I need Team House. You have two department heads. We each get a team," he insisted.

She shook her head. "That's not how this works. You share the team that's there. It's not unreasonable. You personally only take one case at a time... I'm not hiring more doctors into that department for one extra case. I don't have the budget for that because I hired you."

"My salary is not equal to what it costs for my own team."

"No, your salary isn't. But when I hired you, I not only had to budget for your salary...I also had to budget for your lawsuits, the MRI machines you always seem to misuse and break, and all the other various incidental costs that come with employing an egomaniac like you," she pointed out. "Use the team. They're good."

He clenched his jaw for a moment before hitting his cane on the ground a few times. "Fine. I'll use Team Chase under protest. I still need a new office."

She shook her head. "There is no office available. Your office is fine. It's the biggest office outside of mine."

"Right... great idea. I'll just use your office until there is one available."

Her eyes widened and she pushed her chair back from her desk. "You will not!" She stood to face him.

"Then find me another office. Otherwise I'm moving in."

"I told you, there is no other office."

"Alright, Roomie," he said, moving to take a seat in one of her more comfortable chairs. "When my stethoscope is on the door, it means I've got a hooker in here."

She managed to contain her temper, instead moving back behind her desk. Maybe if she just ignored him, he'd realize he wasn't getting the attention he wanted and just go away.

xxxxx

House stood on her porch, beating on her door with his cane.

"Stop making so much noise. You're going to wake up Rachel," Cuddy said, pulling her robe tighter around herself as she opened the door.

"Not my problem. I wouldn't be here banging on the door if her mother weren't such a controlling idiot," he pushed past her.

"Right. Why don't you come in. We can talk about how I'm the idiot," she shook her head as she closed the door. She had expected to butt heads with him again, had even expected him to show up at her house to argue his point. But she hadn't expected it so soon. He hadn't even been back a whole week yet. She also wasn't sure what, if anything exactly, had set him off.

"You said I could have a team."

She just looked at him for a moment. Really? This was what he was so upset about? "I already told you. You do have a team. Chase and the three fellows that make up the diagnostics department."

"And I already told you. That's Chase's team. I want my team."

She gave a soft laugh. "There are four doctors...five, counting yourself, that make up the diagnostic department. Six if you count bugging Cameron in the ER with your theories. Seven if you count me vetoing your crazy theories and unnecessary procedures. That's more than enough to bounce theories around and handle your single patient of the week. I'm not letting you hire anyone else."

"First of all, you're not a real doctor, so you don't count," he started in on her. "Cameron isn't nearly as helpful now as she was when she worked for me. And Chase's team is too busy dealing with Chase's patients to be worried about my patient. I want my own team," he insisted angrily.

"No," she crossed her arms. "There are three doctors you can use to your heart's content. One patient a week does not justify me adding another team to your department."

He rolled his eyes. "You're an idiot!"

"You already said that," she pointed out.

"You're a horrible doctor. And you're cheap. You being a cheap idiot is what killed my patient!"

Ah... so that's what this was about. His patient had died. "You want to blame me because you didn't figure out the diagnosis," she stated.

"I'm blaming you because you're too cheap and too stubborn to let me have my own team. If I had my own team, they would have focused on my one patient instead of my one patient and Chase's three! My patient died because I don't have a team that is focused. We missed something because the team had to split their focus! They had to split their focus because you have some ridiculous urge to try to control me! This is on you!"

She gave a laugh. "Really? I think you've more than proven over the years that I have no control over you. You're uncontrollable," she countered. "Even when we were together you made it clear that I never controlled you."

He clenched his jaw and turned a bit more to really square off with her. She wasn't pissed off enough yet... he'd poke a different spot, push a different button. "That's what this little power play is really about. Me. You're still hot for me. And it drives you crazy."

She arched an eyebrow. "What are you even talking about?"

"You're pissed at me over everything that happened with us. This is your way of getting back at me for the way things ended."

"Don't go there," she warned lowly. That was a very dangerous hole to go down.

That's exactly where he wanted to go. He'd found the exact button to push and now he wasn't going to stop. This was the reaction he'd wanted. "Our entire relationship, you constantly said you never wanted me to change who I was. You knew how screwed up I was. You acknowledged it. I think it even got you off. You said you never wanted me to change. But in the end it did matter. Turns out that you really did want me to change after all. You probably thought you were such a great catch that you could make me change."

"I didn't break up with you because you didn't change. And for the record, I never asked you to."

"No, it was because one time when I thought you were dying, I slipped up. I thought I was losing the woman I loved, and I took a pill to numb everything for a few hours because I didn't know how to deal with that kind of pain."

"House, stop," she swallowed hard. She could feel her temper flaring with every word.

"I made one mistake. One. And the almighty, perfect Dr. Cuddy just couldn't be with anyone who isn't as perfect as she is! Only aside from your ass, there's not a perfect bone in your body."

"One mistake?! You think you only made one mistake our entire relationship? I never said I was perfect, but you...you lied to me. Multiple times. You weren't there when I needed you. You never showed up when I needed you... it was only when it was convenient for you and your damn ego! When I was sick you brought your whole team to try to diagnose me!"

"Because I was trying to save you!"

"You don't get to run around playing God! You can't decide who lives and dies, House! You can't save everyone! I didn't want House the doctor, I wanted House the man I loved!"

"This isn't about money or even you being stubborn. This is about you and me. This is about you being so angry at yourself that despite everything I've done, everything that happened, you can't help but still want me. You're still attracted to me, and you hate it, hate yourself. So you're blaming me... taking it out on me with the one thing that you can control. My work," he growled angrily.

"If that were true, why the hell would I have rehired you?!"

"Because you want to fuck with me... in both senses of the word!" He yelled at her. "It's not my fault you can't control yourself around me. It's not my fault you still want me and what only I can do for you. It's not my fault..."

She interrupted him with a hot, angry kiss. It was searing and fierce, biting his lower lip roughly. When they both pulled away a moment later, they just stared at each other... really, more of a glare. They were both angry...at each other, at the situation, at the truth. They both were upset. That was it... the gasoline had been poured on and this was the final spark that caused the explosion.

Her hands fisted in his shirt pulling him against her as her lips crashed hard into his. His cane dropped as his hands yanked her robe open and began roaming possessively. There was nothing tender or gentle in the way he touched her... nor in the way she touched him. This was raw, unbridled passion and lust... tension that had been building between them probably since things ended if they were being brutally honest with themselves.

Her robe finally fell from her shoulders and her back hit the wall hard. His fingers were rough on her skin, grabbing her body in ways she knew would leave bruises, but she couldn't bring herself to care... leaving her own marks on his body from her mouth and nails.

She didn't even care about his shirt, going straight for his belt and jeans. They weren't going to make it to her bedroom. Even if this weren't such an urgent need for both of them, she wasn't ready to invite him back into her bed. So she shoved him down on the couch, yanking his pants over his hips in the process. She moved to straddle him, teeth moving over the skin of his neck until they sunk into his pulse point hard, eliciting a deep groan from his chest.

His fingers dug into her hips hard enough to leave fingerprint bruises, and his eyes were dark as they met hers. He quickly pushed her to her back underneath him on the couch, unwilling to give her the control he knew she wanted. His mouth ravaged every inch of available skin, biting and sucking, leaving marks everywhere that would serve as a reminder of him. At the same time his hands moved underneath her nightgown groping possessively, pulling her close and making sure he reminded her that no one else knew her body the way he did.

She gave him a few minutes to think he was in control, but there was no way she was letting him keep it. Her hands groped his shirt and pulled it over his head, tossing it somewhere to the side. Before he could realize it, she gave a shove to flip him to his back, which sent them both falling off the couch. He landed on the floor with a thud and a grunt, and she landed on top of him triumphantly. Her thighs straddled his, and she pinned his wrists to the floor on either side of his head, refusing to let him touch her for the moment. Her mouth ran along his throat, teeth grazing the skin as she dropped her hips.

xxxxx

By the time they were done, they were both still laying on the floor where they'd landed when they rolled off the couch, only he was now on top of her. His shirt was on her coffee table, his pants still around his ankles. They both had red marks on their bodies that would most likely turn into bruises, bite marks in various places, and she'd left rather nasty scratches down his back with her nails that had broken skin.

Neither said a word. Neither even moved until soft footsteps were heard in the hall. "Mommy?"

Shit. Rachel was awake and apparently out of bed. She gave House a shove so she could slip out from underneath him. "Go back to bed, Sweetie. I'll be there in a minute, okay?" She called to her daughter, hoping her voice still sounded normal. She waited until she heard the footsteps fade back down the hallway before getting up, still without a word to him. She straightened her nightgown and picked up her robe as she disappeared to take care of her daughter.

House laid on his back, staring up at her ceiling for a few moments before finally sitting up and redressing. Pushing himself up, he limped over to where his cane had landed and picked it up before silently letting himself out of her house. He stood on her porch for a few moments, trying to process his conflicting thoughts and feelings before shaking his head and starting toward his bike. He couldn't let this happen again. He knew he'd never be what she needed. He wasn't the right guy for a single mom. And he knew that she knew that. So he wasn't going to torture himself with the rejection that would inevitably come.

#house #house m.d.#house md #house fanfic #huddy #house x cuddy #greg house #lisa cuddy

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spiritedquill · 5 years

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Sonny’s Home For Boys: Chapter 1

Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4 | Ch5 | Ch6 | Ch7 | Ch8 | Ch9 | Ch10 |

AO3 | FFnet

Summary: He wasn't staying. There was no way he could stay, he had to get back to Sammy. His dad would come back and he'd go back to doing what he did best: hunting. Still... the mysterious blue-eyed boy named Castiel made it really hard to not want to stick around and never go anywhere else again.

Notes: I wrote this RP with @gggghik forever ago and finally decided to turn it into a fic. Enjoy!! Comments encourage me to keep posting new chapters ;)

Chapter 1:

“Dean, I’m hungry.”

The words echoed through Dean’s mind as he walked through the little convenience store, taking long deep breaths and trying to act normal. He saw the shelf with cans of ravioli and smiled a little. Sammy loved the mini ravioli. Almost as much as he loved mac and cheese.

Dean looked around, trying to keep his breathing even. There weren’t any cameras that he could see and there was just the one cashier. He could do this.

He grabbed two cans of mini ravioli and stuffed them into his jacket. After closing his eyes for a second to steel his nerves, he started walking as casually as he could towards the exit.

“Hey, can I help you, boy?”

Dean startled and glanced over at the cashier. He froze for a second then shook his head with a smile. “Uh, no thank you. I was just leaving.”

The cashier gave him an odd look and Dean swallowed thickly but kept walking. He saw the cashier wave over the cop standing by the door and his stomach dropped. How had he not seen him there before?

“He didn’t buy anything… yeah, he was just wandering around…”

Dean heard the cashier whispering to the cop and his heart pounded harder in his chest. Don’t panic, Winchester. Just act natural.

“Hey there, son, why the hurry?”

Shit.

Dean turned to see a man in a deputy’s uniform standing over him. He gulped nervously. “Uh, sorry sir. I was just, uh…” he trailed off, panic setting in, and turned and broke into a sprint out the door.

“Hey stop that kid!”

Dean glanced back over his shoulder to see the deputy running after him, but he kept running…

...right into the other deputy.

Dean lost his balance a bit, dropping the ravioli cans from his jacket, and the deputy shook his head. “Turn around, kid,” he said, pulling out a pair of handcuffs. Dean panicked. He couldn’t get caught. On instinct, he threw a punch at the deputy and tried to run again, but the other officer was there to catch him by the arm.

“Not so fast.”

Dean cursed under his breath as his hands were cuffed behind his back and he was ushered into the back of the deputy’s car.

As they drove away, Dean could only think of Sam, and how he had failed him.

…

“Mr. Winchester, hi. We caught your son shoplifting, thanks for coming--”

“What happened?” John asked, looking over at Dean, disappointment in his eyes. Dean swallowed hard, but he couldn’t speak. He deserved that look. He’d been caught. That was one of the number one rules. Be smart, don’t get caught.

“Now listen, Dean punched one of my officers. That’s a big deal, it’ll have to go on his record. But the store owner isn’t pressing charges. Once I process him, he’s free to go if you could just sign a few papers--”

“No.”

“Sorry?”

“Dad--”

“No, he can sit for what he did. Give him some time to think. He’s your problem now.”

“Sir--”

The sheriff was interrupted by a door slamming shut, and John Winchester was gone. The man sighed. “Officers, take these cuffs off. I’ll call Sonny.” Grunting a bit in protest, the officer with the shiner on his eye, courtesy of Dean, unlocked the cuffs from Dean’s wrists. Dean winced a little as they came off, rubbing his sore wrists.

Dean couldn’t believe it. He had only stolen food for Sammy. He was trying to take care of his brother. It wasn’t his fault dad didn’t leave them enough food for a whole week. And he said he’d only be gone four days.

Shaking his head, trying not to think about that, he looked down and pretended he wasn’t eavesdropping as the sheriff spoke on the phone again.

“Yeah, Mr. Ellison, I’ve got a situation here… Yeah, do you have the space? No, not that, he was just here… I can’t believe it, he just left… Yeah, I’ll let him know... His name’s Dean. Thanks, Sonny. Bye, now.”

Dean’s face scrunched with a confused frown. Sonny? What the hell?

“Listen son, I know--”

“Don’t call me son,” Dean spat. “My dad’s coming back. He’s just pissed off, he’ll be back.” Dean wasn’t even sure he believed it, especially with that sad look the sheriff was giving him. He hated pity.

“I’m sure he will, but you can’t stay here in any case,” said the sheriff. “For now, we’ve got a nice boys home ‘round here where you can stay. A warm bed’s better than a jail cell.”

He had a point, Dean thought.

“Fine. I’ll be gone by tomorrow anyways when my dad comes back.”

“That’s alright by me, son.”

…

“Come on, Dean,” Sonny said, and Dean followed reluctantly. Sonny’s smile was so warm and kind. He couldn’t look at it. “Let’s get some frozen peas on those wrists and I’ll show ya to your room.”

“I-I get a room?” Dean stuttered out, stunned, without meaning to. Quickly collecting himself, he shrugged his shoulders and stuffed his hands in his pockets. He only winced a little when the leather rubbed his raw wrists. “I mean, yeah, uh, sure. I guess I can stick around for one night.”

Sonny smiled, amused, and glanced at him over his shoulder as he grabbed a bag of frozen peas. “You’re sixteen, right?”

Dean nodded silently.

“Oh, yeah,” Sonny said with a low chuckle. “I remember that age. Too cool for school, right?”

Dean shifted uncomfortably. He didn’t particularly like being psychoanalyzed. “I dunno what you’re talking about.”

Sonny smiled knowingly. “‘Course you don’t.” He handed Dean the bag of peas and clapped him lightly on the back. “You’ll fit right in here, Dean.”

Sonny led Dean upstairs, down the hall, and to the room at the end. There were six beds, 3 on each side of the room, with a rug in the middle. “The other boys are just finishing up their chores, but you can pick your bunk and settle in a bit.” Sonny paused and glanced at Dean, his heart clenching at the look on Dean’s face. He’d never had his own bed in his life by the looks of it. Clearing his throat, Sonny spoke again. “The first two on the right here are taken. Benny and Chuck. Ash has this first bunk on the left, and the far left corner is Castiel’s bunk. You can take your pick of the other two.”

Dean took it in for a moment longer before shaking himself out of his haze and tossing his jacket on the middle left bed. It’s not like it mattered anyways. “Thanks,” he muttered, and Sonny left the room to give him some space to adjust.

Dean looked around. The room wasn’t exactly huge, but it was surprisingly roomy considering 6 boys lived there. It was actually kinda nice, Dean thought. He even had his own night stand. He’d only ever had a bed to share with Sammy in dirty hotel rooms, so this was practically paradise.

Dean shook his head. No. He wasn’t staying. He couldn’t just leave Sam, and his dad would come back. Of course he would.

His chest hurt at the thought of Sam. Where was he now? Did dad drop him off at Bobby’s, or drag him along on a hunt? Did he even know what happened or why Dean wasn’t there? Or how his dad has basically told him “You’re on your own, rot in jail for all I care.” How all he wanted was to get some food for Sam but he didn’t have any money left. How he was abandoned for trying to be a good big brother.

He felt tears spill out of his eyes and he wiped them away roughly, squeezing his eyes shut tight. “Don’t cry, Winchester. Crying means you’re weak and you’re not weak,” he scolded himself just before the door flew open. He looked up as a lanky brown-haired boy ran into the room. The boy stopped in his tracks and looked at Dean.

“Oh,” he said after a moment. “You must be the new kid.” He went to his bed, on the right corner closest to the door, and grabbed an inhaler. “I’m Chuck,” the boy said after taking a deep draw of his inhaler. “We’re about to have lunch. Nice to meet you.”

Dean didn’t even have a chance to speak before Chuck was dashing out of the room again. Strange kid, he thought.

Dean wiped his hands down his face and shook out his shoulders before heading downstairs. He silently took a seat at the table with the other boys, not in the mood for more introductions. The others seemed to be fine with that-- except for one boy. He was about Dean’s age, with bright blue eyes, and he was staring right at Dean.

Dean’s temper flared. “What’s your problem?”

That got everyone’s attention.

“Well howdy, newbie,” said one of the boys. He looked about seventeen and he had an awful mullet.

“We haven’t had any fresh faces around here in quite some time,” said the boy next to Dean. He looked to be the same age as Mullet Man over there.

“Yeah, well don’t get used to it, cuz I’m not staying,” Dean snapped. “I’ll be gone before you know it so take a good look.”

Cocky. That’ll get old really quickly, Castiel thought. He looked away from Dean without a word and crossed his arms, scolding himself for so blatantly staring at Dean.

“So, what’re you in for? Oh, and I’m Benny by the way. And that dick head is Ash, you can ignore him.”

“Hey, I’m not--”

“And you already met Chuck here.” Chuck waved enthusiastically. “And Mr. Personality over there is Castiel.”

Castiel didn’t even look up at the sound of his name. Dean glanced at him curiously. This place was wack job central.

Dean looked back at Benny. “Well, I can see we’re all fantastic at first impressions.” He paused, trying to think of how to answer Benny’s question. “And well, I punched a cop. So that’ll do it.”

Cas tried to keep an eye roll at bay.

“Yeah, that would,” Benny laughed.

Benny stopped laughing and sat up a little straighter as a middle aged woman walked into the room carrying a tray of sandwiches and fruit.

“You boys been working hard?” she said with a smile just as warm as Sonny’s.

“Thank you, Ruth,” Castiel spoke up, barely audible to the rest of the room. He smiled thankfully at the women and Dean couldn’t help but notice he had a nice smile.

“Hello? Earth to Dean?” Ash said, waving a hand in front of Dean’s face and grabbing a sandwich before Ruth could even set the tray on the table. “Trust me, he’s not that interesting,” he said, and Dean’s eyes snapped away from Cas quickly. “He seems all mysterious and deep but you get past that pretty quick.”

Somehow, Dean doubted that was true.

As the boys ate, Dean couldn’t help but sneak glances at Castiel. He half-heartedly participated in conversation with Benny and Ash, but he was honestly more concerned with learning everything there was to learn about the quiet blue-eyed boy.

Cas finished eating before the other boys who were too busy talking to actually eat (except for Ash who was under the implication he could do both simultaneously). He stood stiffly and took his plate to the sink, wiping it clean and setting it to the side. Cas had noticed the new kid Dean staring at him throughout lunch. It was nothing he wasn’t used to. The other boys stared at him the same way. Intrigued, but not necessarily in a good way. There was almost always a hint of fear.

He never used to get those stares. But that was before.

He rubbed his hands down his shirt to smooth some of the wrinkles and walked past the other boys wordlessly. He did allow himself a moment to get a better look at Dean.

Green eyes, freckles, light brown hair that almost looked blonde in the sunlight, all wrapped up in flannel and blue jeans. And unfairly handsome. That was what Dean looked like.

Cas shook his head and left the kitchen, hurrying out the front door before he got carried away.

As he stepped out onto the porch, he bumped into a girl with dark hair and a guitar case slung over her shoulder. Castiel apologized and looked up at the familiar face, smiling a bit.

“Oh! Hey, Castiel,” the girl said, blushing.

“Hello, Robin,” Cas said with a nod and a polite smile.

Robin’s blush darkened when Cas said her name. Castiel’s heart sank in sympathy. He hated that every time she looked at him with those hopeful eyes he had to shoot her down. It wasn’t exactly his fault, he just wasn’t interested. “Uh, no thank you, Robin. We got a new kid today, though. He might want to,” Cas offered with as little pity as he could manage.

“Oh really?” Robin asked with a smile, trying to hide her disappointment. “Sounds awesome. I’ll, uh… I’ll see you around then, Cas.”

Cas nodded and waved to her as he hopped off the porch and headed off to the field behind the house.

Robin sighed sullenly, watching him go. She only took a moment to feel sorry for herself, though, quickly schooling her features and stepping through the front door. “Knock knock!” she announced cheerfully.

Dean looked up when the door opened, for a split second hoping it was Castiel. But he wasn’t disappointed by what he saw at all. His eyes widened when a very beautiful girl with a guitar entered walked through the door.

Ash scoffed. “That’s Robin,” he told Dean quietly. “She’s totally head-over-heels for Chatty Cassy but no one knows why. Don’t even bother, bro.”

Dean slapped on his trademark cocky grin, straightening his collar and standing up. “Watch and learn, boys.”

He sauntered into the living room with his best charming smile. “Hey,” he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “You know, I’ve always wanted to learn how to play guitar. Think you could teach me a few things?”

“That’s what I’m here for,” Robin said, unfazed by the blatant flirtation. She heard that shit all the time, but never from one person in particular.

She sighed and turned to the boy with a polite smile. “You must be the new kid Cas mentioned. I’m Robin,” she told him, shrugging the guitar off her shoulders and sitting on the couch.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, that’s me,” Dean said, taken aback slightly when she didn’t react to his flirting. “My name’s Dean.”

Sonny chose that moment to enter the living room, smiling when he saw Robin. “Hey there, Robin. Uh boys, have any of you seen Gordon?”

Dean frowned. The other boys shrugged and said they hadn’t seen him, and Sonny sighed and walked out the front door.

Sitting down next to Robin on the couch, Dean asked, “Who’s Gordon? I thought it was just the four boys.”

“Gordon is… well, it’s a long story,” Robin said, frowning. “He’s a jerk. Cas always tried to protect people when Gordon picked on them, so Gordon decided to target him instead. And Anna…” Robin trailed off, stopping herself. It wasn’t her place.

Dean felt an odd sense of protectiveness at the idea of someone bullying Castiel. He couldn’t quite place it. But he knew what it was like to be different, to be treated like a freak. He wouldn’t wish that on anyone. “Sounds to me like someone needs to teach Gordon a little common decency,” he told Robin fiercely, and she scoffed, pausing her strumming to look at him.

“What? And that’s gonna be you? Look, you’re right. Gordon needs to learn a lesson. But Castiel knocked him around pretty hard and he still didn’t learn it. You’d think with what Castiel did…” she stopped herself again, shaking her head. “Well, you’d think he’d learn to leave well enough alone.”

Outside, Castiel had wandered into the small patch of forest that sat behind the property. He looked up into one of the trees and smiled when he saw a small nest with three baby birds and their mother. He began climbing the tree, settling in with his back against the trunk a few branches below the nest. He watched them with a small smile, leaning back against the tree and enjoying the time alone.

“Hey, bird boy,” called a voice from below, and Cas stiffened. He looked down with disgust when he saw Gordon standing at the base of the tree. The older boy smirked and taunted, “Got your wings yet?”

Cas rolled his eyes and returned his attention to the birds. “Go away, Gordon,” he muttered.

“What was that now? Couldn’t hear ya.” Gordon’s eyes darkened and he hopped up onto the bottom branch, beginning to sway and put his entire weight into shaking the trunk. He smirked up at Cas as he struggled to keep his grip on the tree. He continued shaking the tree and taunting Cas. “Don’t feel like talking, huh? Fine by me.”

Castiel gritted his teeth, trying to cool his temper. He wanted to hop down there and shove Gordon’s face into the tree. It wouldn’t be hard. He wasn’t big, but he was stronger than Gordon for sure. But after what happened last time… Well, the thought was enough to cool Cas down pretty quick. He would just ride it out and Gordon would get bored eventually.

It wasn’t until he noticed the bird’s nest teetering on its branch that he finally moved. The mother bird had flown away the second Gordon began shaking the tree, but the nestlings were still there, and they couldn’t fly.

Cautiously, Castiel stood, steadying himself with a firm grip on the branches above him. He began to pull himself up, gasping and catching his grip when his foot slipped. Gordon began to shake the tree with even more fervor and the nest slipped. Castiel cursed and dove to catch it, falling to the ground with a thud. He groaned as the nestlings chirped in alarm, startled but safe and sound. Cas, on the other hand, was less than okay.

Gordon smiled smugly and hopped down from the tree, landing inches from Castiel’s head. Cas glared up at him. “Nice catch, bird boy,” Gordon sneered, then turned and shifed his expression into one of panic. “Hey!” he shouted. “Someone help! Cas is hurt!”

Dean was about to tell Robin that he didn’t care what Gordon did, he could take him. He’d seen worse. So much worse. Gordon didn’t scare him.

He was cut off when he heard yelling outside and he instinctively jumped up. He followed when Sonny and the other boys ran outside to see what was wrong.

Sonny ran through the open field, stopping to kneel next to Cas. “Hey, buddy, you all right? What happened?” The man didn’t believe Gordon’s concern for a second, nor did anyone else. They all knew him better than that. But Sonny was more focused on making sure Cas was okay than punishing Gordon.

Castiel groaned and began to sit up, and Sonny helped him. “The nest slipped,” he said, smiling weakly. “I caught it.”

Sonny chuckled. “What am I gonna do with you, boy?”

Dean followed the others outside, heart sinking when he saw Castiel on the ground. As he came closer to make sure the boy was okay, he noticed Gordon standing off to the side with a smug look on his face. Temper flaring, he marched out onto the grass and shoved the taller boy’s chest.

“So you like picking on people, huh?” he growled. “Maybe you should try picking on me, see how that works out for ya. Come on, do it,” he shoved Gordon again. “Do it! Unless you’re scared,” he challenged, eyeing Gordon fiercely.

Gordon laughed. “Fine, tough guy.”

Sonny stepped in the middle of them before Gordon could throw a fist. “Hey, knock it off, both of you. Gordon, get in the house, now! Dean, help me get Cas inside.”

Dean nodded, taking a breath to calm down but still glaring at Gordon.

Castiel tried to stand, looking at Dean with confusion. Why was he trying to protect him? He could take care of himself, anyways. But still, why would Dean even want to stick up for him?

Cradling the bird’s nest, Cas muttered, “I’m fine, I can take care of myself.”

Gordon laughed again. “Are you sure, bird boy? Your boyfriend here seems more than willing to swoop in. Looks like someone else stepped up as hero, Cassy.”

Castiel glared at Gordon and lifted himself up a bit. He still couldn’t stand.. Sonny ushered Gordon inside, and Dean walked over to Cas, watching him in concern. “Hey, you okay, man?” he asked. “Looks like you hit your head pretty hard…”

Castiel’s ego softened a bit at the boy’s concern. “I’m fine,” he insisted, but he winced as he sat up straighter, exposing the lie. “I have to get back up the tree. The birds…”

Dean reached out to help Castiel to his feet, not believing him for a second. “No way. You’re not climbing up there again after that fall. You need to rest up, Cas.”

“I don’t need rest, I need to get this nest back in the tree.”

Dean shook his head, eyeing Cas. “How ‘bout you let me put the nest back, and then we’ll grab you some ice. Lots of ice.”

Cas smiled a bit. “Are you sure? It’s the sixth branch up.”

Dean scoffed, grinning. “Honestly I’m offended you’d even ask.” Grabbing the nest carefully, he pulled himself up into the tree and started climbing higher and higher until he found what looked like the perfect place for the nest. Tucking it into the little nook, he smiled and climbed back down. “Done and done,” he said. “Oh, and I’m Dean, by the way. I wanted to introduce myself personally, instead of as ‘new kid.’” He smiled even wider and shook Castiel’s hand. “Mind if I call you Cas?”

Meanwhile, Robin continued to watch from the porch as the boys started heading back inside. She couldn’t help but admire the way Dean stood up for Castiel like that. And how he was being so kind to the boy. Honestly, it was extremely attractive. And Dean wasn’t exactly hard on the eyes either, so that helped.

Despite Castiel’s protests that he didn’t need help (which were discredited when he almost fell over before grabbing onto Dean’s shoulders), Dean wrapped an arm around the boy’s waist and helped him inside. After Dean got Cas inside in one piece, he went to the kitchen and grabbed a few bags of frozen peas. He figured Sonny wouldn’t mind. Then he helped Cas upstairs to the bathroom and found a first aid kit as Cas held the bags to his head and side.

“Sit,” he told Cas, and Cas listened, trying not to think too much about how Dean’s arm felt wrapped around his waist. Or how he looked when he smiled. Or his hair. Or the way his eyes lit up when he looked at him.

He hated himself every time his heart pounded just a little too fast.

Trying to distract himself from Dean’s face, he turned his attention to the amulet around Dean’s neck. “Nice amulet,” he said quietly as Dean cleaned up the blood coming from his forehead.

Dean paused, instinctively reaching for the necklace Sam gave him. “Oh,” he said, clearing his throat. Another reminder that he couldn’t protect Sam, no matter how hard he tried. “Yeah… it was a gift.” He frowned slightly, shaking his head to clear the thoughts of Sam.

“Cas, are you alright?”

Both of the boys jumped as Robin popped into the room, her blue eyes wide with concern.

“Uh, yes, I believe so,” Cas said.

“That was so sweet how you saved those birds,” she said, blushing. “Don’t let Gordon get to you.”

“I don’t,” Cas said gruffly.

Robin turned to look at Dean, then, and her blushed deepened. “It was sweet what you did, too…” she smiled shyly. “Standing up to Gordon like that.”

Dean shrugged, smiling just a bit, and Cas couldn’t help but watch him. Perhaps there was more to Dean than Cas had initially thought.

“It was nothing,” Dean said, snapping Cas out of his thoughts. Cas shook his head, kicking himself mentally. Stop staring. It isn’t right. “I just don’t like guys who pick on people just ‘cuz they can. I don’t care how much your life sucks, you can’t treat people like that.”

Fishing the anti-bacterial spray and some gauze out of the first aid kid, Dean knelt down in front of where Cas was sitting on the edge of the tub. “This might sting,” he told him, spraying the cuts across Castiel’s head, collarbone, and arms. Cas swallowed hard but showed no sign of pain. It was nothing he wasn’t used to.

Robin gently touched his knee, watching the boy carefully. “Castiel, you could always take him in a fight. You did before.”

Cas looked up at her and shook his head. “No. I… that’s not a good idea.” After what had happened before… Well, Cas couldn’t let that happen again. His father would… Cas closed his eyes. No. His dad had disowned him. What he thought shouldn’t matter. Besides, Castiel didn’t want to hurt anyone. Not again. Not even Gordon.

At the thought of his father, Castiel lost track of what was happening around him. He vaguely registered Dean and Robin talking softly to each other, but it didn’t matter. He couldn’t help but think of every lesson his dad had drilled into his mind… He was wrong. He was disgusting. He was a disgrace. And the way Dean’s hands felt against his skin only made matters worse. It was distracting.

His father didn’t understand. It wasn’t that he liked girls or that he liked boys. He had dated a few girls in the past, April and Meg. But it wasn’t their gender he was drawn to, it was their kindness and what he saw in their soul. According to his dad, it was far more important what was between a person’s legs.

Personally, Cas thought it was more “Christian” to love someone for more than just sex, but that’s not what his father had taught him. Man and woman. Anything else was a sin.

Castiel’s stomach churned. He believed in his heart that what he felt was real and that it wasn’t wrong, but he couldn’t help but think of his father’s words every time he noticed Dean’s eyes and the way he smiled… and the way he had so gently put those birds back in the tree…

No. Cas didn’t want to think about it. The thought made his skin crawl… or maybe it made him buzz. Either way, he decided right then that he would have to stay as far away from Dean Winchester as possible.

Breaking Cas out of his thoughts, Sonny came to stand in the doorway, asking how he was feeling. Gordon slipped in beside him and sneered at Cas.

“Got your boyfriend playing nurse, faggot? You kinky son of a--”

“Gordon,” Sonny stopped him, and Cas glared at the boy.

“That’s odd,” Cas growled, “considering your idea of kinky involves drunk 14 year old girls.”

“That’s enough,” Sonny said, louder, grabbing Gordon by the arm and leading him back to his room.

Dean frowned at Cas’s words. “What--”

“It doesn’t matter,” Cas muttered, looking down at the floor.

His frown deepening in concern, Dean began cleaning one of the deeper cuts on Cas’s cheek. He tried to meet the boy’s eyes. “I take it you have quite the history. What’d he do to make you hate him so much? You know, besides being a generally shitty person.”

Looking up from the floor, Cas eyed Dean curiously. He wasn’t fazed by Gordon’s harsh words or their implications. He was only worried about Cas. He really couldn’t figure Dean out.

Robin stood and cleared her throat. “Well, I hope you feel better, Cas. My dad will be waiting for me at the diner. I’ll tell Anna you said hi.”

Cas looked up at her and smiled. “Thank you, Robin.”

She blushed and smiled back at him, then coughed and turned to Dean. “Keep him out of trouble.”

Dean winked. “‘Course I will.”

“I am very capable of handling myself,” Cas said defensively, though he was secretly glad to have the light-hearted atmosphere return.

Robin rolled her eyes and gave him a knowing, affectionate smile. “Obviously. See ya, feel better.” Cas nodded and Robin left.

Once she was gone and it was just Cas and Dean, neither of them spoke for a few moments. Dean’s hand was frozen by Cas’s forehead where he had been patching him up. The touch was one they both tried to ignore.

“Gordon is part of the reason I’m in here,” Cas finally choked out, softly and hesitant.

“What do you mean by that?” Dean asked, leaning in close so he could see the wound better. Cas’s heart skipped a beat and he inched back just a bit.

“Why don’t you ask someone else? Everyone here knows the story,” he whispered, only a little bitter.

“Because I’m asking you,” Dean stated with a shrug. Pausing, he added, “I wanna get your side of the story, not some bullshit rumors.”

Grabbing the band-aids from the first aid kit, Dean finished patching Cas up, but he didn’t move away just yet.

Cas just shrugged. “Gordon’s an ass, and I was stupid. That’s really all there is to it.”

He was stupid for letting Anna go out on her own. Stupid for losing his temper so impulsively. Stupid for thinking his dad cared. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Dean chuckled, and Cas felt his breath catch at the sound. “You know, I can see why most people get the dark, mysterious vibe from you. You’re so… vague. I mean, it can’t be that bad. I’d bet you a hundred bucks I’ve done worse.”

Cas blushed when Dean called him ‘dark and mysterious.’ Was that really what people thought of him? Was that really what Dean thought of him? He decided not to dwell on the thought.

Dean noticed Cas seemed distracted. Or at least that he didn’t feel like talking. Dean understood that.

“Hey, I’m sorry for prying,” he back-tracked, clearing his throat and moving away from Cas just a little. “It’s your story to tell, and you don’t have to.”

“It’s alright,” Cas assured him, missing the closeness for a moment and then immediately dismissing that thought. “It’s not that I mind you knowing, I just don’t like talking about it. Like I said, everyone here knows the story. You can ask them. I’m sure you won’t hear it too differently.”

Cas was a terrible liar, he knew that. And he didn’t want to be the one to tell Dean that he had gotten drunk and done some stupid shit with Gordon, even if it wasn’t true. But that was the story everyone but a select few believed. It was better that way. If anyone found out what really happened… well, he didn’t know what would happen. But he had to keep Anna safe, even if that meant getting disowned by his family and being stuck in this place. As long as it wasn’t Anna going through it.

Dean nodded, not quite believing Cas but deciding not to push it too much. “Well, whatever it was, I wouldn’t think less of you for it. Anything that ends with Gordon getting his face kicked in is alright in my book.” Smiling, he finished putting one last band-aid on Cas’s forehead. “There. Good as new.” Then, smirking a little, he said, “You know, you look pretty badass for someone who just fell out of a tree. Might get some nice battle scars.”

Cas eyed him curiously. “I’m covered in band-aids. I’m not badass.”

Dean laughed, genuine and bright, and Cas felt his cheeks flush. “Well it’ll make you even more dark and mysterious, either way.”

Cas laughed too, then winced when he felt a sharp pain in his ribs. He made a pained noise and groaned, “I think I’m going to be dark and mysterious in my bed, if you don’t mind.” Cas protested but ultimately gave in when Dean rushed to help him stand and walk down the hall. “Uh, thanks,” he said. “For everything. And don’t worry about Gordon. He’s got me as a target and won’t let me go, which is good. It means he spends less time hurting anyone else. I can handle him.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you can,” Dean said with only a hint of sarcasm. “But it never hurts to have someone that’s got your back.” Dean led him to a door and reached for the knob but Cas stopped him.

“Wrong room,” he said quickly, grabbing Dean’s hand on instinct. “That’s Gordon’s room. Don’t go in there. Ever.”

Dean nodded, swallowing thickly as he felt warmth spread from where Cas touched him. “Good to know.” They continued walking to their room, and Dean helped Cas to his bed before sitting down on his own. “Get some rest,” he told Cas. “You’ve earned it, hero.”

Cas smiled at him, though he was both thrilled and panicked when he realized that Dean’s bed was right next to his. It was obvious he had formed some kind of attraction to Dean, and it needed to be quelled. But… Cas swallowed.

No, no, no, no, no.

Gritting his teeth to keep from groaning in pain, Cas gingerly hooked a thumb into the back of the neckline on his dirty t-shirt. He brought it over his head and tossed it into his laundry basket before replacing it with an old, loose-fitting black t-shirt.

He didn’t miss the way Dean stared at him for just a fraction of a second when he took his shirt off. He couldn’t help but feel… something when he saw the look on Dean’s face.

He laid down on his back, crossing his arms behind his head despite the soreness in his muscles. He stared at the ceiling as he spoke. “So, what stupid thing really got you stuck in here, Dean Winchester? I get the feeling it was more than punching a cop.”

Dean had busied himself with his pocket knife and the wooden bed posts, carving protective symbols into each one. He startled when Cas spoke, trying to pretend he wasn’t just distracting himself from the very distracting image of Cas with no shirt.

“I… I stole some food for me and my brother,” he said, clearing his throat when his voice came out barely more than a whisper.

Cas looked over at him, baffled. “Then it is stupid. That you were put in here, I mean. That’s no crime.”

His attention was drawn to what Dean was carving and he eyed the boy suspiciously.

Whoa, Novak, he thought. Way to have a thing for the devil worship boy. Dad would be so proud.

Dean smiled a little. “I agree.” Anything that was helping his brother couldn’t be bad, not in his eyes. Noticing the look on Cas’s face, Dean’s eyes widened. “Oh, no this isn’t… It’s just… It’s protection,” he tried to say, heart pounding. How could he explain this away? “It’s a… family thing. I guess. I swear I don’t worship the devil or anything like that. The exact opposite, actually.”

Cas blinked, slightly relieved. He pushed himself up into a sitting position, immediately regretting the quick movement, and carefully swung his legs over so he was facing Dean. He leaned in closer to get a better look at the carvings. “Huh,” he said. “These are… really intense anti-demonic Latin symbols. Where did you learn these?”

“My dad,” he answered, heart clenching at the reminder. “He’s… paranoid,” he lied. “I guess I’m a little paranoid, too.”

Cas wasn’t sure what to make of that, but before he could say anything, the other three boys walked into the room. Benny nodded at Cas.

“You doin’ alright there, chief?”

Cas nodded, his expression becoming more guarded when the other boys entered. Chuck flopped down on his bed, taking a draw of his inhaler. Benny and Ash grabbed some plastic straws and started shooting spit wads at each other from across the room.

Dean was disappointed when Cas closed off in the presence of the other boys, but he understood. Even as he mourned Cas’s open expression, he felt himself rebuilding his own walls.

As the two of them fell quiet again, Dean couldn’t help but wonder about Cas’s past with Gordon. Was it really that bad? Maybe he would ask one of the other boys after all. For now, though, he decided to try for some sleep. But between Benny arguing with Chuck over his fantasy romance supernatural novel (“Why would vampires kill for sport? That’s a waste of perfectly good food!”), and Cas humming softly to himself, and thoughts of Sam…

Well, he wasn’t gonna be getting any sleep tonight.

Snatching his jacket off the floor, Dean pulled out a small picture of him and his brother, curling up on his side and starting at the faded photograph. He frowned. What was he thinking, trying to make friends here? Obviously he couldn’t stay. He had to get back to his brother. He had to keep him safe, like always. It didn’t matter that his dad didn’t want him around anymore. All that mattered was that Sam was okay.

He had made his decision. He waited for the others to fall asleep and for the sun to set, then grabbed his jacket and started for the door.

Cas’s eyes snapped open when he heard the door open, looking over just in time to watch Dean slip out. He wanted to stop him… but no. This was a good thing. Cas’s feelings for Dean would only lead to more problems, so Cas let him go, as much as it hurt.

He tensed, however, when he heard another door open further down the hall, and Cas knew exactly where it was coming from. Cas cursed and slipped out of bed, heading down the stairs as quickly and quietly as he could.

Dean hadn’t thought it would be this easy to sneak out, but he wasn’t complaining. He slipped out the front door, hopping off the porch without looking back.

He didn’t hear the footsteps behind him until it was too late.

#destiel #destiel fic #dean winchester #castiel novak #destiel rp #sonny's home for boys

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pmcguffin · 4 years

Text

A butane gas cube...

I called her “Betsy,” and I remember how far that old car had travelled, following us all the way to Europe. We would pack her to her limits with luggage and emergency rations for every trip we took, and she tirelessly traversed far and wide, showing us the beauty of the German country side and beyond. She kept the pace with those feisty little Fiats that zipped along the autobahns, and (with only the questionable durability of tire chains for traction) bravely scaled the Austrian Alps in the dead of an icy winter. With Jerry sleeping on the pallet of luggage in the back (before the intervention of car seat safety laws) and as long as Ricky kept his big feet on his end of the backseat, there was plenty of room for the five of us. Yes, I would say we loved our old Rambler American station wagon, for she was steadfast and true. She was one of us.

The household budget was tight, and though we knew the Rambler was approaching the end of her days, we couldn’t easily afford another car. Nevertheless, Daddy ventured out one Saturday to browse a few car lots, wanting to get an idea of what our budget would support. As he was pulling into the Toyota dealership, old “Betsy” pitched and moaned, dropping her drive shaft on the spot. Couldn’t blame her. She knew it was only a matter of time before he replaced her; hell, he was taking her on the replacement search for crying out loud! She was done, alright, so Daddy did the only thing he could do. He bought a Toyota.

A bright yellow Corolla was the only thing on the lot that fit our small budget, so Daddy bought it. He left our poor Rambler behind and drove the shiny new girl home. He pulled into the driveway and as we watched him pry himself out of that oh-so-tiny car, he hollered, “Climb on in, let’s take a ride!” There was a little commentary from Mama about what he was thinking when he bought a car that would barely accommodate five when the arrival of his mother now made us a family of six, “You didn’t forget Ma, did you?” He assured her it would all work out just fine, because what was he to do anyway with old “Betsy’s” drive shaft laying in the middle of that Toyota lot and him with no more money than he had and besides, with some nice seat covers, she’ll be a damn cute little car and we’ll all get used to her, so quit bitching and get in already!

We crammed ourselves into that thing so tightly, we were sitting assholes to elbows. Jerry was wedged in the middle of the back seat. That poor kid was pinned between my fat hips on one side, and Ricky wriggling in the struggle to fit his big feet under the driver’s seat on the other side…nope. We swapped. Mama needed less leg room, so my big-footed brother’s permanent spot would be behind the front passenger seat. It was so close; we were barely breathing, and let me hereby testify that personal hygiene matters.

Daddy drove us all around town until I feared I would faint from the heat of our claustrophobic closeness and those noxious male adolescent body odors that had nowhere to waft but up my nose. My melodramatic sigh drew a cautionary glare from Mama, so I continued in silent mourning over the loss of our Rambler and that sweet roomy ride with a bay in the back for napping on long trips -not to mention adequate air flow. Life would never be the same without her. Ricky mostly just blinked and stared, while Jerry was too young to understand our distress. Mama understood, but Daddy? He was just happy to have an intact drive shaft and determined to make the best of the situation.

We had been on the road long enough to need gas, so Daddy pulled into our regular filling station on the corner. Full service was still the norm in those days, and the young man who worked there sauntered toward the car with a nod to my father. Wayne walked around Mama’s side, eyeing the fender, and made his way to the back. He jiggled the license plate, then came around the driver’s side. Daddy rolled down his window, and with the most serious expression said, “A butane gas cube.”

“Sir?”

“It takes a butane gas cube. You do carry those, don’t ya?”

“Uh, a butane gas cube? Uh, I’ll have to ask my boss, Sir,” and he went back inside the garage.

Soon his boss came out laughing, “A butane gas cube? I’ll have to remember that one!” Then, with a wink, he scolded my dad for teasing his help.

My father got out to show Wayne where, between the back door and the back window, a decorative chrome vent concealed the gas cap. He flipped it open, and Wayne filled ‘er up. Poor Daddy felt so bad for embarrassing the kid, that he tipped him a little extra. We laughed all the way home, and Mama was damn near hysterical. Why, we were so impressed by daddy’s dead-pan delivery as he asked for that butane gas cube, we thought he was positively brilliant. By the time we pulled up to the house, I was feeling better about the new girl. Oh, I would always miss our “Betsy” but if this one could make us laugh like that, maybe I could learn to love her in time.

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hey-hey-chan · 6 years

Text

Afraid of Falling - Changbin

❀ Comedy, fluff, college!au

❀ Word Count: 3.2K

❀ Starting a school year isn’t easy, especially when you swear off boys for the entire year. When an annoying, yet attractive, guy moves in across your dorm, that promise becomes harder to keep.

❀ a/n: HAPPY BIRTHDAY @changbeanie AKA MISSUS RUBY !!! I LOVE U SM AND THANK U FOR BEING AN AMAZING FRIEND AND AN AMAZING LIFE MENTOR FOR ME !! I LOVE U !! :DD and pls follow my advice and find a nice manz in college. or at least dont be afraid of it ;-;

“New year, new problems.” My roommate said. She was unpacking all her clothes and dumped them into her respective closet. I shook my head at the debby downer.

“Ok true, but you didn’t have to say it out loud.” I noted.

I was in my sophomore year of college and although I was excited for the new experiences, I knew the school year was going to be hardest than the last. Especially with my new internship that I’ll have to be working around my homework time.

“Of course I did. Hey, did Seolhyun message you if she’s here yet?” I checked my phone and of course, I saw the message from the girl.

“Yes, she texted that she was going to be late ‘cause she had to pick up a burger...on her way to move in day.” My other roommate, Jimin, just let out a chuckle.

“Sounds like Seolhyun.”

It was my second year with these two girls and I would’ve have it any other way. We were practically family now.

“Hey, I still have some stuff in my car but I have to unpack this, could you-” Before she could finish her sentence, I was already putting on my shoes.

“Fine, Jimin, but you owe me.” She gave me her signature puppy eyes while I strolled out of the door. Jimin could be extremely lazy at times, but I wasn’t gonna turn down seeing new freshmen hussle into their dorms.

As I was turning the corner, I felt my body crash into a firmer one, sending me back to hit the wall behind me. My tiny body fell to the ground at my weak legs.

“OH MY GOD! I’m so sorry!” I heard a deeper voice say. I groaned in pain from the collision, but once I opened my eyes, I felt myself stammering over my words.

The boy in front of me had bright eyes and a mischievous smile, but his eyes looked genuinely worried about my well-being.

But I was supposed to be pissed at him. So I glared at him. Or tried my best to.

“Um, it’s fine.” I dusted myself off and turned to the staircase.

“Wait!” He called out. I whipped my head around politely, but felt the urge to run away from this boy who made my heart skip a beat.

“Yes?” The boy gave me a small smirk and extended his hand to me.

“I’m Changbin, I think we live on the same floor?” He then pointed to his dorm and I saw it was right across from mine...great.

“Y/n, and yup I guess we do. Well, I have to go pick up some stuff for my roomie, but I’ll see you around?” I said nicely. Changbin gave me a slow nod and waved me off. Before he could say anything else, I ran off, practically sprinting to get Jimin’s stuff.

I felt my heart pounding uncontrollably in my chest like I was some kind of 16 year old girl, yet I couldn’t help the attraction I held for the random boy. I shook those thoughts away.

“Relationships are terrible. Stick to the plan and you’ll get things done this year. You have no time for a stupid college romance.” I muttered to myself.

The more I muttered these words, the more I believed them. So I will keep muttering them.

As I walked back up from my friend’s car, I felt my disappointment when I didn’t see Changbin. I ignored the disappointment in my heart and walked into my dorm.

Once I walked into, I saw 3 unexpected visitors. And one of them was Changbin. Great.

I immediately saw a happy Seolhyun who was leaning against her bed with a bunch of bags in her hands.

“Y/N!” The girl ran up to hug me and I felt myself awkwardly wrap my arms around her.

“Hey, who is this?” The three boys gave me small smiles, making me feel weird at all the attention.

“Oh! This is Woojin, Chan, and Changbin! They live across the hall from us!” Before the girl could even finish talking, Changbin butt in.

“Yeah, and we were just asking if you guys were coming to the movie night in the commons this evening. They’re showing Crazy Rich Asians.” Immediately, my eyes lit up.

“Oof, you spoke the golden words. Y/n loves that movie.” I turned a bright red as Changbin cooed, but I pulled myself together.

“I mean, who can’t? It’s such a cute movie and even though it has a crazy, unimaginable plot, it’s all about family and shows normal values and struggles regular people have.” Once I stopped talking, I realized how much I rambled and everyone was staring at me. I combed my hair to the side and made my way to my desk.

“So I take it as you’re coming?”

“Yes.”

----

Soon, the clock hit 7:49 PM, meaning it was time to head down to the commons.

“So, you and Changbin?” Jimin teased. I refused to let my anxiety show, so I shrugged her off.

“What about me and Changbin?” I retorted. Seolhyun scoffed and grabbed our keys from one of the shelves.

“Seriously? He is totally into you?” I knew my cheeks were a light blush, but I ignored it.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. He’s just being friendly.” Jimin let out a hum of disapproval and shook her head.

“Yeah right, the boy was practically drooling at you, it was lowkey disturbing.”

“He was not drooling. That’s gross.” Seolhyun shrugged.

“It was something like that.” She noted.

Before they could say anything else, we arrived at the commons. I saw groups of girls gossiping to one another and a few familiar faces scattered the hall, but before I could look any harder, a familiar face popped up once again.

“Hey, you made it.” Changbin noted with a smile. I scanned his outfit and noticed he was wearing all black, just like me. He had a tight black t-shirt on and black joggers, paired with black Nikes. I had on an almost identical outfit.

“Yeah, um, I told you I was coming? My favorite movie? Hello?” I teased. Now it was his turn to blush a light pink. Now I felt nervous.

“True. But I don’t know, some girls I know like to cancel plans randomly.” I shrugged and gave him a serious stare.

“Well, I’m not one of those girls.”

“Hello? Is this mic on hehe?” The MC, who I noticed was Chan, moved the mic closer to his mouth, making the familiar high pitched echo resonate throughout the room. Even I flinched at the noise. “Ooops! Well, hello all of you pretty faces! I’m sure all of you know that we will be showing the famous Crazy Rich Asians!” The whole crowd cheered, including me.

“We will be getting started shortly, but please, get seated and be kind to your neighbors so you don’t ruin the experience for them, ok? Ok!” Chan hopped off the stage and went to plug in something to the big projector.

“He’s a character, huh?” I almost forgot the boy was standing next to me.

“Oh, Chan? Yeah I mean, he’s interesting but he seems nice.” I said truthfully. Changbin took a swig of his Coke and nodded.

“That’s exactly how I would describe him.” The boy then looked around, making me do the same. And then I realized my friends ditched me. Great. “Hey, wanna grab a seat?” I nodded forcefully, still angry my friends left me with some random guy. Like what if I didn’t like him? What if he was creepy?

I took a seat next to Changbin, carefully avoiding his body so we wouldn’t get any awkward body contact.

“You want anything to eat?” I shook my head politely, even though I really wanted some popcorn.

“Nope, I’m fine.”

I was simply just too lazy to get up. Soon, the movie started, which thankfully ended the chat between Changbin and I.

---

The movie was ... more uneventful than I thought. I avoided all conversation with Changbin during the movie because I hate when people talk during movies. Thankfully, the boy didn’t really talk either.

When the ending scene came on, tears were filled in my eyes and I casually wiped them away so I wouldn’t seem sensitive.

“Are you crying?” The boy teased. I quickly turned my head.

“Yes! It’s sad so what if I’m crying?” I spat.

The boy sat up from his laying position and stared at me with a curious glint in his eye. “Hey girl, slow your roll. I was just asking. You’re a pretty crier.” He noted. If my cheeks weren’t already so red, I would be blushing. Thank god I was crying.

The lights came on and everyone was a tired mess. It was only 11pm yet I already wanted to crawl into my bed.

“Hey, so..” I heard the boy start. I tensed up at his voice. “Do you like, wanna hang out sometime?”

Wait, what?

I felt my heart tense up even more and a chill ran down my spine out of nervousness. What do I say? Do I say yes? I just met this guy like this morning!

“Umm... sorry I’m just not looking for a relationship.” I blurted. Right as the words left my mouth, I wanted to take them back once I saw his hurt expression. “I mean, it’s nothing with you, it’s just...”

“You.” He whispered softly. I nodded sadly.

“Yeah just-”

Suddenly, I saw the familiar figure float by, sending my body into a mini shock.

Changbin quickly caught onto my anxiety and looked behind him. “What?” I shook my head, my eyes not leaving the person.

“N-nothing. It’s fine.” Changbin raised a brow at my pitiful excuse.

“You sure, it’s doesn’t-” He was cut off when I felt my body jump back out of reflex at the dude. Changbin turned around and looked in the direction of my eyes. “Your ex?” He whispered. I gulped and nodded.

“You still like him?”

I scoffed and shook my head harder.

“Hell to the no. He’s just a total creep and weirdo. I hate him oh God why is he here?” I mumbled quickly. Out of nowhere, the heathen started to walk in my direction. “Oh shit.”

“Is he coming this way?”

I nodded slightly, trying to avoid how close he was getting. I felt my heart pound, wondering why the boy was coming over here.

“Ok, sorry for this.”

Before I could ask any questions, Changbin’s lips were on mine.

Wait.

What.

The kiss was gentle yet passionate, making me want to run away yet stay planted for a long, long time.

Where the hell was this boy my whole life and why does he kiss so well?

Before I knew it, the kiss was over when he pulled back softly, still a close distance from my face.

“Good?”

I shakily looked passed him and nodded. “Good.” I whispered out.

Suddenly, the situation seemed too real for me. My heart was beating out of my chest and my hands were turning cold. What is wrong with you, y/n? You’ve only known this guy one day.

“Hey, are you-”

“Sorry, I have to go.” I quickly picked up my purse and ran upstairs, passing all my friends and people trying to say hi to me.

I quickly ran into my room and shut the door quietly. I ran my fingers through my hair and tried to calm my labored breathing.

“What the hell was that?” I whispered to nobody. My goal this year wasn’t to make friends or a boyfriend, it was to stay focused on school. And here I was. Standing in the middle of an empty room only thinking about the boy’s lips on mine. I shook away the thought and crawled into bed. “That was fun while it lasted. But you have better things to worry about.”

I slowly closed my eyes and fell asleep, swearing to myself I would never talk to the boy again.

-----

The next week went by somewhat smoothly. I didn’t get lost on my way to classes and I didn’t get alone with Changbin once this week.

Soon, the sun went down and the sky was dark, signaling it was time to get ready for bed.

“Hey, y/n, wanna go brush up with us?” I looked over at the two girls but waved them off.

“Nah, I gotta finish my essay first.” I muttered. I couldn’t focus on anything else when I was in my zone. Typing was pretty much the only thing that made me happy, and I was writing about a topic I was passionate about.

“Suit yourself.”

The night went by and finally, at 2am, the essay was finally done. I set down my coffee and stood up. Knowing I wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight, I got up and went to use the bathroom. I left the room quietly and brought my toiletries with me. I carefully shut the door, hoping I wouldn’t wake the other two up.

I walked into the girl’s bathrooms and did my nightly routine, feeling groggy and awake from the coffee- it was a weird feeling.

I rubbed my eyes and slowly walked back to my dorm. I dug through my pockets to look for the key.

Shit.

forgot

key.

“Oh my shit.” I muttered sadly. Now, I felt fully awake and ready to cry. How could I have let this happen? “That’s the last time I’m drinking coffee that late.” I mumbled.

“Y/n?”

Oh great. This night just keeps getting better and better. I closed my eyes and forced a smile. “Hey, Changbin.” The suspicious boy raised a brow and looked at me and then at my door.

“You’re locked out.” I crossed my arms, mirroring his stance.

“Ok, so what if I am?” I said with a higher tone. Why does he have to be here? Out of all the nights?

Changbin leaned against his door and rolled his eyes. “Nothing, I wasn’t gonna say anything mean.” I said nothing to his words as we both stood in complete silence. Talk about awkward.

“Well, I was actually on my way to the cafe. You wanna come with?” I raised a brow at his statement.

“A cafe? It’s 2am!” I exclaimed quietly, careful not to wake the others. Changbin gave me the familiar smirk and shrug that made my heart flutter.

“You have something better to do?

----

The cafe was brightly lit which made me squint to stare at my coffee. I twirled around he little wooden stick and ignored Changbin’s intense stare. The boy was wearing a black shirt with a blue flannel on the outside. He was wearing his familiar black beanie and black joggers as well. He hadn’t changed.

I took a light sip of my coffee, careful not to spill. “So, why have you been ignoring me?” He deadpanned. I choked. I covered my mouth with a napkin to hold in the hot liquid.

“Um, what do you mean? I haven’t-”

Changbin interrupted me by scoffing and leaning back in his chair. “Y/n, I’m not stupid. I know you’ve been avoiding me and...” His voice trailed off, leaving me on edge. “And I don’t know why. I swear I thought we clicked right away. I would’ve have kissed you if it made you uncomfortable. I’m sorry.” He apologized sincerely, but I could tell he also felt a bit awkward and a bit upset with himself.

I shook my head quickly. “No, no, it’s wasn’t that. I mean, sorta, not really.” I sighed and leaned in my chair. “It’s complicated.” I mumbled. Changbin raised a brow and fiddled with his coffee.

He said nothing and I’m not sure if I wanted him to, because I spilled m feelings anyways. It was 2AM and I was feeling quite open.

“Ok, so basically, um, the kiss...wasn’t bad.” I noticed the smirk on his face and narrowed my eyes at him, but said nothing. “But...” I sighed.

He chuckled softly. “But is the worst word in the human language.”

“But I’m just...not ready for a relationship right now.” I said quickly, hopeful not to hurt his feelings. Honestly, I wasn’t even sure if I was lying or not. I’d never expected a relationship, but with Changbin, I wouldn’t be upset about exploring one.

Changbin sighed and leaned back in his chair. “Is it ‘cause of your ex?” He asked. I nodded slightly.

“Well, some about that, some about just...I don’t know, I don’t feel ready.” He raised a brow. “I guess I’m afraid I guess.” I whispered softly.

I wasn’t sure why I was telling him this. Probably because it’s so late-or early- and my mind was all jumbled and emotional.

At my words, his face turned hard, but then loosened. I wasn’t sure what he was thinking.

We sat in silence for a moments while he took a big gulp of his coffee. My hands were shaking, I don’t know from the caffeine or the anxiety.

“You know,” He started. “You shouldn’t be afraid of love.” I ignored his words and mindlessly traced the designs on my mug.

“Everyone is. It’s normal.” I said truthfully.

“I’m not.” The boy proclaimed proudly. I scoffed and shook my head. “Serious, I’m not. I love love. I love falling in love. I love being in love. I even love just loving.” The boy confessed. I felt my cheeks go deep red by him saying “love” so many times, but I hit them with my sleeves.

“Even if someone doesn’t love you back? Even if someone hurts you? Do you even love then?” I asked softly.

I heard the worker in the back shifting around, filling up the empty silence. The clock was ticking louder than usual as I was waiting for his response.

Then, like I expected from Changbin, he laughed heartily and gave me a sweet smile.

“You plan on breaking my heart, y/n?”

I felt my cheeks heat up and I laughed awkwardly to cover my awkwardness.

The boy chuckled and shook his head. The boy opened up to say something, but my phone buzzed loudly. He gestured to me to look at it.

‘dude, where tf are you????’ I shook my head at Jimin’s question.

‘i got locked out im a doofus. at a cafe’

‘alone??’

‘no.. with changbin’

‘..... come back whenever u want. i’ll leave ur key outside. im going back 2 sleep’

‘thanks jimin!’

“Jimin’s awake.” I noted. The boy stood up and pushed in his chair.

“It’s late, we should get back now anyways.” I nodded, tossing out my empty coffee cup.

“You’re right.”

The walk back to the school wasn’t long, it was merely a close 5 minutes, probably even shorter because of the empty roads. Soon, we reached our building and were doing that awkward goodbye thing couples do. Expect we weren’t a couple. Not yet. I shook that thought away.

“No.” I jumped in shock at his random outburst.

“W-what?”

“No I’m not scared.” He looked at me intensely. Usually I would want to run away, but this time, I just wanted to keep this stance. I didn’t feel scared with Changbin, I just felt...at home. Like this was completely normal.

“I’m not scared of not being loved back. Because my biggest fear is not trying at all.”

At those words, he gave me a small smile and unlocked his door softly.

“Good night, y/n.”

I gave him a smile and mustered up the courage to grab his hand and squeeze it, surprising him.

“Good night, Changbin.”

#stray kids #straykidznet #sk-writersnet #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #changbin scenarios #changbin #seo changbin #seo changbin scenarios #stray kids imagine #stray kids scenario #seo changbin scenario #changbin imagines #stray kids oneshot #stray kids oneshots #belly rubs #i love u ruby!!!!! :D

311 notes · View notes

what-inthe-goddamn · 6 years

Note

May I please request companions reacting to sole finding an underground garage with a bunch of pre war cars, tanks and other such treasures

Ada: Ada would begin inspecting all these vehicles and comment to the Sole Survivor about their magnificent condition and usefulness; if they could find a way to get them running again. It wasn’t everyday she was able to process and tinker with almost pristine pre-war vehicles. She would advise the Sole Survivor to find a way to transfer these to the Mechanic’s Lair to have a better look at them. Think of the possible discoveries she could make!

Cait: Once the door slid up and Sole and her got to enter it, they were shocked by the sight. She immediately set her eyes on a pre-war motorcycle. She would proceed to dust it off and smile at the crimson paint that still coated the bike despite it being over two centuries old. Cait and Sole immediately took it back to the Red Rocket so they could try to get it up and running again. She always wanted to give one of these motorcycles a whirl. She could see it now: her and Sole blazing down the streets of the Commonwealth, knocking raider and the like left and right as they sped by. The thought made her crack a smile.

Curie: At a first glance of the garage Curie was astonished. Upon a closer look she noticed a bit of rust on the vehicles and recommend that Sole be careful examining them since she didn’t have the means to provide them with a standard tetanus shot. Even so, these vehicles were quite the sight and couldn’t help but marvel at them. She had her eye a baby-blue Corvega, its tires with barely any wear on them. Curie wasn’t capable of operating a vehicle in her former body, but maybe she’d have a chance at it now in her new one. That is, if Sole could even find a way to get them to run again.

Codsworth: The moment Sole opened the garage Codsworth instantly hovered over to a car that was just like Sole’s before the war. Codsworth reminisced with Sole about how beautiful the car was back in the day, when it was rust-free and had a fresh coat of paint. He would wonder to himself if with a good cleaning and occasional maintenance Sole would be able to use it. Perhaps it was a silly thing to hope for, but the thought of having something to look after again was heartwarming; regardless of the fact that he doesn’t have an actual heart.

Danse: The garage was amassed with well preserved pre-war automobiles and tanks, and immediately Danse turned to Sole and suggested that they get this location out to Scribe Haylen. The paladin had never seen so many machines so well-conserved inside of a single room. A rare smile would creep up on his face as he ran his hand over the dusty hull of an old tank that looked like it could still give some serious firepower; despite the rusted treads. But personally, Danse had his eyes on an old pick up truck, with a rear bed long enough to transfer supplies, maybe even a power armor or two? Before he let himself daydream any further he begun to take inventory of every vehicle with Sole’s help.

Deacon: Deacon was blown away when they went into the garage. All these cars, trucks; and hell, tanks were just sitting here for centuries! He opened up the door to a Zip car and joked about getting Des to sign off using these for Railroad operations as he stuffed himself into the little automobile, his knees awkwardly pushed up to his chest as he sat down, a goofy smile radiating from him. “Mm, roomy” he would state, as Sole chuckled and shook their head. Jokes aside, these could actually make traveling with escapee synths a whole lot easier. That is if those Brotherhood assholes didn’t find this garage and take everything for themselves. Deacon wondered if a nice flame decal would make this car stylish, or perhaps white leather seats? The tackier the better.

Dogmeat: Being a dog, he wasn’t really all that excited to be in a closed off garage with a bunch of metal things below the ground, but he still followed Sole as they gazed at the old machines in awe. Dogmeat sniffed several of them. They smelled the same as the cars outside, so he didn’t quite understand the big deal about it. That was until Sole found a motorbike with a side cart for a passenger, perfectly Dogmeat size. He wagged his tail the whole way as Sole pushed it back to Sanctuary to have Sturges look at it.

Gage: The raider was smiling ear to ear when Sole finally unlocked that garage door. All these machines were seemingly untouched by the bombs and wasteland, looking almost as new as the day they were made. Now Gage didn’t know shit about cars, more so how to get them running. But something told him that Sole would have a better idea. The raider gangs at Nuka World could have a lot of fun with these too. It might even make them a little less feisty if they had these to mess around with instead of fighting and killing each other.

Hancock: Hancock let out a long whistle when the door opened. Staring at one of the tanks, Hancock thought to himself how lucky they were to find this before the Brotherhood. He wasn’t too keen on keeping it though, he was peacekeeper, not a warmonger. Maybe Sole and their Minutemen could keep it from others? Hancock’s worrying ended when Sole called him over from the other side of the garage. Hancock walked over to see Sole grinning at a gorgeous black Chryslus Corvega, which looked like it could start up any moment no problem. With a bit of gas taken from the other cars and crafty wire start up by Sole the two of them were able to ride out of the garage and out into the Commonwealth. Hancock wouldn’t have believed until the car suddenly stopped in the road not even three minutes away from where they drove it. Hancock and Sole just looked at each other and burst out laughing, eventually deciding to push it back to Sanctuary in hopes of getting another ride out of it with some tinkering.

Macready: At a first glance Macready just saw another garage stuffed with old cars, possibly filled with ferals. he wanted to make sure that the garage was clear. When it was all good, Macready saw Sole rush over to a Lone Wanderer motorcycle. Sole was gushing about how well-kept it was and whether it could be fixed or not. Macready had to admit, the bike was in great shape, along with the other automobiles in here. The motorcycle’s paint was barely chipped, it almost looked like somebody pulled it out of one of those pre-war magazines about cars that Macready once read. Macready was no mechanic, but Sole was determined to get it working so he agreed to help them push it back to Red Rocket, long as Sole agreed they taught him how to ride it.

Nick Valentine: As Sole slid up the old garage’s door Nick chuckled to himself as Sole sprinted towards the first car they saw. They looked like a kid on Christmas morning. Nick however spotted a car that looked a little familiar. Upon a closer inspection he realized this station wagon was the exact model and color the pre-war Valentine had. He sighed, a small smirk lighting up his face as he ran his hand over the hood of the car, admiring how pristine it was despite sitting in this old garage for over two centuries. This car was twice his age but looked in much better shape than he did. Perhaps Sole and he could somehow get one of these driving. It was wishful thinking, but a car would certainly take the strain off of traveling during cases.

Old Longfellow: Longfellow doesn’t know why Sole dragged him down here in this old abandoned parking garage. He’d rather be off in the bar or fishing but Sole promised that something good was down here. Longfellow wasn’t convinced until Sole told him it could worth some money. Once Sole got the door opened and revealed what was inside, Longfellow crossed his arms and admitted that he was impressed. These ain’t the cars on the surface; all rusted and broken beyond repair. These look like the just came fresh out of them factories. Maybe they could make some money off them after all.

Piper: When she first set her eyes on the newly opened garage, Piper gasped and yanked her camera out of her bag, snapping a picture. She ran up to each car and inspected them, chattering to Sole about what an amazing find this was, asking them about the car models and uses; anything she could learn from them. She stopped in her tracks and whipped her head towards Sole and asked if it was possible to get these running. When she was replied with a ‘maybe’ she grinned and was already thinking of a title; “First Car in the Commonwealth to Run After Two Centuries!!!” or should it be “Automobiles from the Past: Brought Back to Life After Amazing Find!!!”. She couldn’t contain her happiness as she snapped more pictures of the automobiles. Her eyes became saucers after seeing the tank. Maybe they shouldn’t get ALL of these running again, but a car wouldn’t hurt; right?

Preston: The Minuteman couldn’t believe his eyes when he and Sole entered the garage. The bleak light coming from the overhanging lamp didn’t set well with him, so he suggested that they survey the garage first. Once the garage was proven clear of anything hostile, he and Sole wandered around and checked out the various pre-war vehicles. Preston had his eyes mainly focused on the tank, and asked Sole what its capabilities were and if they ever used one. Sole lightheartedly laughed and said no to the latter question, but that they were a common sight during the war and in the Commonwealth before the bombs dropped. But upon hearing how destructive they were, Preston was dismayed from wanting to use it quickly. The Minutemen are a peaceful militia, not an aggressive army like a certain faction. But he didn’t want the Brotherhood to use it either, so what was the possible choice? Sole assured him that nobody could know how to get these working, even if these machines were able to be started up again. Preston eyed the cars and motorcycles. They seemed a better alternative for the Minutemen to use.

Strong: Strong didn’t care for these cars. He saw them as a crutch for humans who were just too slow or lazy to walk themselves. The only good they were to him were scrap for armor and forts. But when Sole explained to him what a tank was he took a little bit of interest, but only because Sole said it could blow up other humans. But when Sole told him they didn’t know how to use it, he dented the hood a couple of times out of frustration. Oh well, Strong was good at killing humans without tanks anyway.

X6-88: The garage was at first just like any other one to him, but when he saw Sole’s awed reaction at the vehicles he noticed that these were in decent condition. X6-88 was curious about the automobiles and asked Sole multiple questions about their capabilities. Sole explained to him how most pre-war citizens owned a car and would traditionally use it to get around almost everywhere. X6 was impressed by the creativity of the pre-war humans, even if wasn’t as advanced as some of the technology the Institute had. These vehicles would be useless to the Institute besides research interests. However, Sole seemed excited about their find, so maybe it couldn’t hurt to attempt to get one working again.

#fallout imagines #fallout 4 #fallout 4 companions #my post #fallout ask

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caranfindel · 5 years

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Recap/review 14.08: “Byzantium”

THEN: Beardy Sam! Lily Sunder! Oh, I had such high hopes for Sam using Lily's dark angel magic... could this be happening? (Spoiler alert: nope!) Jack's total systemic failure!

NOW: TFW is gathered at Jack's bedside. Sam's the one sitting next to him, but Dean is the one who's the most upset. OF COURSE. Jack thinks maybe this is just how it's meant to be, which of course Dean disagrees with, because this "isn't part of some damn plan." And of course, even if it was part of some damn plan, it's not like Dean follows anyone's damn plans. {Sidebar: It reminds me that, when Kelly was pregnant, Cas received some kind of vision about unborn Jack saving the world. Was that supposed to be a prophecy? Or just a possibility?}

Jack's still coughing, and actually using an oxygen mask, but there's no blood and he can breathe enough to speak easily, so he doesn't seem to be at death's door just yet. Dean stomps out into the hall to hit things, and Jack asks Sam to tell him he's okay. But clearly Jack isn't, like, 2 minutes from dying, so Sam says Dean will be back in a minute and Jack can tell him himself.

Jack asks what will happen after he dies, and Sam sadly says he doesn't know. "Then it's going to be an adventure," Jack says, and he lies back and coughs a little bit more.

Cas comes out into the hall to comfort Dean, or confront him, I don't know. Dean says it's not fair and Cas is all, yeah, duh, but he needs you (ah, confront him it is), so stop making this about yourself. Even though the previous episode obviously did give you the idea that it is, in fact, all about you.

Dean comes back into Jack's room, 66 seconds after he left it, to find him lying quietly with his eyes closed. "He's gone," Sam says. Wait. What? Like that? No more coughing blood, no rattling last breaths, no slip into unconsciousness? Just boom, Jack's gone before the title card like a random victim of the week? That's cold, guys. It's a good thing Sam didn't follow Dean out into the hall, or he would have died alone. As it is, Sam was the first person he saw when he was born and the last person he saw when he died (I'm not crying, you're crying). Everybody is sad (oh god, you guys, Sam's face), but Dean is the saddest, at least as far as we can tell, because he's the one who gets the sad, sad closeup.

Well, that escalated quickly!

Title card!

TFW stands sadly in the hall (Sam's all hunched over, poor baby) and discusses what to do next. "Wake and a bonfire," Dean says, because that's what Jack would have wanted, and because that's what they'd do even if he didn't want it. {Sidebar: Has anyone noticed these signs that have appeared in the bunker? I never saw them before. Do the new roomies need directions, or rules posted on the wall, or something?} Sam quickly peels off without saying a word. Cas tries to go after him, but Dean stops him, saying Sam needs his space.

That’s the sound of my heart breaking.

Dean calls Mary to tell her Jack died. I don't know that I would have done that. I would have asked her to call me so I could tell her in person, considering that they were close. And apparently she didn't even know Jack was sick. Seriously, boys, you don't communicate well at all. While Dean makes his uncomfortable phone call, we see Sam leave the bunker with a bag slung over his shoulder. Cas watches him but doesn't say anything. Dean shows up, literally a second or two later, and asks him if he's seen Sam.

Cut to Cas driving, with Dean in the passenger seat. It's not his tiny blue car from the last episode, it's something much bigger. Dean is berating him for letting Sam leave, and he doesn't accept Cas's defense that Dean said to give him space. Cas, you're supposed to know that Sam is allowed space in the bunker, but that doesn't mean he gets to leave. They find him quickly enough, though, which makes sense since he had like a five second head start. He's just off the road, in the dark, sitting next to the Impala. Sam, you took the Impala? What were you thinking? {Sidebar: Dean told Mary Jack died "this morning," and now it's dark. Does that mean Jack died very early, and it's still before dawn? Or have they just sat around grieving all day, and now it's nighttime?}

(Could you please stop worrying so much about minor timeline inconsistencies? Nobody cares!)

Sam weakly raises a hand to block the headlights when Dean and Cas arrive, but doesn't get up, and he just looks broken and miserable. Dean is furious. He jumps out of Cas's car (which turns out to be a big Dodge truck, and why does Cas get two cars when Sam doesn't even have one?) and yells "tell me you didn't make a deal!" Sam's shocked that Dean would accuse him of such a thing (ha ha, why would he ever) and says he was trying to build a pyre.

We get a flashback of him furiously chopping trees until his axe handle snaps in the middle of the second tree, and yet he still took the second tree down, so he must have kicked it over or attacked it with his bare hands because he was JUST THAT UPSET. Oh, Sammy. "I couldn't... I couldn't even do that for him," he says. "I should have done more. I should have tried harder. Everything we've got, the spells, the lore, what good was any of it if we couldn't save him?" Oh, oh, Sammy. He's so broken-hearted.

Ha ha this is not okay.

{Sidebar: Was Sam planning to build the pyre out there in the woods? Or take the wood back to the bunker in the Impala? I mean, he knows Cas has that nice big truck, right?}

(Again, we do not care as much about logistics as you seem to think we do.)

Cas remarks on how odd it feels for Jack to be dead, that it's not so weird for angels to die but it just doesn't seem right that Jack can. Apparently he considered the boy immortal. Dean decides they will say goodbye tomorrow, but tonight they're getting shitfaced.

And they do. As a sad Allman Brothers song plays in the background, they drink whiskey and eat candy bars (do they even know about his nougat love? do they?) and apparently switch to tequila (and Chuck, I do not know what anyone sees in tequila) and I guess tell funny stories about Jack because they're all laughing. Sam's the first one to get up and stumble drunkenly out of the kitchen (and why are they drinking in the kitchen and not the library, which seems like the traditional sad drinking spot). As Cas leaves, Dean says "we did everything we could, right?" (Spoiler alert: wrong!) and continues to drink alone. "Here's to you, Jack," he says, "wherever you are."

Which is our segue to wherever Jack is. He's with his three dads, happily eating a burger on the hood of the Impala on a beautiful sunny day. Sam can't get a signal on his phone, which should be his first clue that something is horribly, horribly wrong. Then Dean kind of fritzes and the sky goes dark and Jack knows something is wrong. We seem him stepping through a door into the white hallway of Heaven. But something is wrong there, too. And the "something wrong" is a great flood of black goo that rushes toward him. He runs.

Cut to Dean, waking up where he's been asleep on the kitchen table (and dang, Dean sleeping on the kitchen table is so pretty). We hear voices in another room and I think oh, people are back in the bunker, but it turns out this is another episode where all of the people are conveniently away at the same time. He staggers into the map room to find Cas and Sam talking to a woman with an eyepatch. It's Lily Sunder! An older version, to be sure {Sidebar: She's played by Veronica Cartright, who you may remember from Alien and The Witches of Eastwick. Or you may not. I don't know your movie viewing habits.} Dean thoughtfully points out that she got old, and she calls it "an unfortunate side effect of giving up magic." You know, she really is a pretty decent older version of Alicia Witt. Good show, Show.

Sam says he realized last night that they'd never looked at Kevin's translations of the angel tablet to see if there was anything there that could help Jack. He hoped Lily would be able to read them, and possibly find a way to bring Jack back. It's interesting that there has been no discussion of whether they should bring Jack back. I guess the talk about how weird it is that he actually died was as close as they're going to get. And yeah, I know, this is nothing new for them. But considering that Jack was at peace with it, and considering how well these things always go, you would think they'd at least pay lip service to the idea that it might be best to let what's dead stay dead.

{Sidebar: Dean remembers that Lily tried to kill Cas, but nobody remembers that Cas thought Lily's child was a nephilim, even though Lily was still alive after giving birth to that child. Just putting that out there.}

Lily flips through Kevin's notes, which look like a bunch of cuneiform, and says she can't decipher them. Dean's all, okay, we're done here, but Lily has a suggestion. They can use her magic, drawing on the power of Jack's soul to heal his body and bring him back. Dean's completely against it, but Lily says it won't use his entire soul. "How much of it?" Sam asks, and Dean gives him a disbelieving look. But Lily says it will only use a small amount, and he'll never miss it. Well, it's not like they've never used soul power before, though those have always been for temporary purposes.

Dean points out the obvious flaw in the plan, which is that Jack is already dead and his soul is gone. But if his soul is in Heaven, Cas thinks he can pull it into his body for a few seconds, long enough for Lily to work her magic. (Ew. I wonder if it's gross for a soul to find itself in a dead body.) Her magic uses the power of his soul to resurrect him and keep him alive, and boom. Jack's back.

But she's not doing it for free. She knows she's going to Hell when she dies, being that she killed a lot of angels, which means she'll never get to see her daughter again. So she wants TFW to get her into Heaven.

Dean still thinks it's a bad idea to use any of Jack's soul for this scheme. Cas thinks Jack should be the one to make the decision, and Sam points out that he knows (better than anyone, one might say) the importance of a soul, but if they can bring Jack back, they have to try. So this still feels flip-flopped: Sam willing to make a possibly unwise deal to bring back a dead loved one, and Dean holding back.

Of course, none of this will work if they can't figure out how to get Lily into Heaven. Dean wonders if they could get Billie to do it, but Cas points out that Death and her reapers don't make that decision (thank you, Continuity Fairy). Oddly, Sam seems a little surprised to hear that. This wouldn't be news to him, would it?

Anyway, they have to turn to Anubis, the ancient Egyptian guardian of the dead. It's interesting that they didn't go with St. Peter. I mean, I like that they're not limiting their characters to traditional Christianity, but it seems like Cas, in particular, would have suggested someone from the Bible. Cas explains that Anubis weighs your heart against "justice's feather," and Sam says what I'm thinking, which is that Osiris did that, and they've already met him. (Did they kill him? I don't remember.) Cas says Osiris is Anubis's father, and when God left, they needed a new judge, so Heaven passed over Osiris to work with his son. It's convoluted but whatever. I mean, it's cool that they're incorporating different religions and gods, so. Let's summon a god!

Cut to a lush garden, with a pond and lots of too-pretty-to-be-real flowers. A little girl is playing with her dog, who runs after a ball and disappears into the bushes. He's gone too long, and then we hear rustling in the bushes, and I'm ashamed to say I was pretty sure Lucifer or Nick was going to step out of them (I covered the guest star credits on first watch and didn't know who was in this episode). But it's Jack. Oh, then the little girl is Kelly, and he found his way to her heaven! When he tells her he's her son, she changes to grown-up Kelly, who is thrilled to see her son until she realizes she's in Heaven and therefore she must be dead... and so is he. I'm glad Jack has the ability to leave his Heaven and find Kelly's. I mean, if Heaven is made up of your good memories, think of how skimpy and repetitive his would be.

Bunker. Sam and Dean prepare for the ritual as Lily writes instructions for Jack. Dean's still disgruntled about the whole thing, and they argue for a bit. Dean says he just doesn't trust her just as we hear footsteps, and it looks like they're doing it AGAIN - the thing where someone says something bad about the character who is right behind them, and can we just not, please? But it's Cas, not Lily. Yay! He reports that Heaven is in distress and all the gates are open. I guess that will make it easier for him to get in. Sam tells him to go on to Heaven, and when they're ready for him, they'll pray. Oh, so they can still pray to him? Good to know.

Dean paints symbols on the floor as Lily hands Sam a really thick instruction manual for Jack. I wonder how long it took her to write all that? Sam says he has to go "grab one more thing" and then gives Dean a significant you need to apologize look and head tilt toward Lily. I do love these unspoken conversations. Dean's apology is everything you'd expect from a man who learned to apologize at John Winchester's knee, since he says "looks like we got off on the wrong foot" (i.e., it's not my fault) and immediately asks, suspiciously, why she stopped using the angel magic if it's so awesome. He guesses, correctly, that she's letting herself get old, because she wants to die, and why does she want to do that if she's pretty sure she's going to Hell? She says she has a tiny bit of her soul left, and if there's even a teeny chance that she'll get to see her daughter in Heaven, well.

Anyway. Cut to Cas, wandering through Heaven. He comes across puddles of goo and a couple of bodies. Looks like we're down to, what, nine angels now? (As always, it's interesting to me that angels use vessels in Heaven, though I understand it would be pretty difficult to portray them if they didn't.)

(Then again, if we didn't insist on including angel drama, we wouldn't need to show angels in Heaven at all, would we?)

(Just saying.)

Turns out one of the bodies is alive, and it's Duma. She has black goo coming out of her nose and only remembers that when "it" touched her, everything went black. Cas dramatically tells her he's looking for Jack, and she goes with him. They find the spot where Jack was with TFW on the beautiful sunny day, but his food is cold. (Does your food get cold in Heaven? I thought it would stay at the perfect temperature. Bummer.) Naomi shows up and tells them Jack is gone, and that they're under attack. "It" stormed Heaven and they can't stop it. What is it, you might ask? "The shadow. The thing that rules The Empty." Naomi reminds us that Cas and Empty Dude are "old friends" and they show us Empty Dude forming out of the black goo and oh, wait, wait. Is this what was happening last week, when Nick prayed to Lucifer and we saw something skeletal forming in The Empty? It wasn't Lucifer at all? It was Empty Dude? Is that what's going on here? I'm confused. I mean, I'd love for Lucifer to stay asleep in The Empty. So I'm all in favor, if that's what's really happening.

Naomi says Empty Dude wants Jack, and maybe he does belong in The Empty after all, since he's half angel. Well, if I were Jack (or Cas), I'd point out that his grace was mostly gone and he was more human than angel. But no one asked me. Naomi says Empty Dude will destroy Heaven if they don't let him have Jack, and "46,750,000,000 human souls will be cast in the wind." I really want someone with math skills to tell me what percentage that is of all of human life so far, because I wonder how many people Show has decided probably went to Hell. Naomi says one nephilim isn't worth all those souls, and I'm sure she's supposed to be Evil Bureaucrat, but honestly, she's right. But you know Cas won't see it that way. He refuses to help, and then suddenly Naomi is overcome with black goo and she yells at him to run. He does.

Bunker. Sam reads the spell. Lily draws her blood. Anubis shows up. Turns out Egyptian gods also look like bureaucrats, with a suit and briefcase. He recognizes the Winchesters and Dean is kind of snarky with him, which is exactly what you'd do if you summoned an ancient god to ask him for a favor. Lily tells him she wants to know where she's going when she dies, and he says it's against protocol but what the hell (spoiler alert...). He draws an abacus with black and white beads out of his bag ("you were expecting a scale and a feather?") and invites Lily to put her hand above it. The beads move and change color and when they stop, there are more black than white. Well, that ain't good.

Anubis tells her he can't change it, and Dean threatens him because, once again, that's what you do when you summon an ancient god and ask him for a favor. And Sam jumps right in there. Come on, boys, you know how this works. Anubis explains that he's not the one who decides if you go to Heaven or Hell (which you should remember from your experience with his father, fellas.) "You do. Each of you. Your individual choices, all tallied at the precise moment of your death. Keep me here. Try and kill me. It is not going to change Lily Sunder's fate. But it might change yours." Now this is how you threaten someone, boys! There's more silent conversation ("I don't want to go back to Hell, do you?" "Aw, fuck no"), Sam rubs some paint off the floor, and Anubis disappears.

Heaven, I'm in Heaven. Cas and Duma find Kelly's Heaven and there is a joyous reunion. Cas apologizes for not keeping her son alive, and tells Jack they have a way to bring him home, but the magic will draw from a piece of his soul. He pretty much takes any choice away from him by telling Jack that Empty Dude will destroy Heaven if he doesn't come back to life. "Smart," says Duma, except she's not Duma! She's Empty Duma! Oh noes! (The black goo effect really is pretty good, I've got to say.)

Bunker. Sam points out that Lily could still do the spell to save Jack, even though there's nothing in it for her. Because that's what Sam would do. But Lily's not interested, and she packs up her stuff to leave and Sam finally shouts "he's our kid!" and oh, Sam. Just stick that knife in my heart and twist it a bit more, why don't you? Dean says he thinks she's lost so much soul, she's not human any more, because why would she let anyone else lose a child, knowing how it feels?

Heaven. Empty Duma says Jack belongs to her and where she's taking him is worse than Hell, because "at least Hell is something." You know, I think The Empty would be pretty awful if you were awake, but from what we've seen, no one is awake there. Even its ruler was asleep. So, would being asleep forever actually be worse than Hell? I'm thinking not. (Honestly, if Heaven is full of good memories, a big chunk of my Heaven is going to be drifting off in a soft bed in a cold bedroom under flannel sheets and a quilt and a cat.) Anyway, Empty Duma is pleased that her threats are upsetting Cas. He draws his angel blade and attacks, but she flings him into the kitchen cabinets.

Bunker. Jack's body is surrounded by candles. Lily pulls out her locket and kisses the photo of her daughter, then says "I'm ready" and picks up the spell book, so I guess Sam and Dean were able to convince her after all.

Heaven. Fighty fighty.

Bunker. Dean prays to Cas and tells him they're ready. Lily starts chanting.

Heaven. Empty Duma starts to strangle Jack. Cas tells her to take him instead. She drops Jack and then says what I'm thinking, which is that she gets him anyway. "Not for years," he says. "Eons, maybe." But if she lets Jack go, Cas will go with her now. She accepts, but says she won't take him now. She wants him to suffer, so she wants him to go back and be happy, and once he does feel happiness, then she'll come and "drag you to nothing." Cas accepts.

The Empty leaves Duma, and Jack angrily confronts Cas, asking why he made the deal. "Because I made a promise. Because I love you, Jack. Sam and Dean, they love you, and they are fighting for you this very minute." He tells Jack not to let the Winchesters know about the deal, and Jack promises not to tell. {Sidebar: Would Jack even remember what happened in Heaven? Sam and Dean didn't, until Joshua specifically made them remember. But does that mean they naturally forgot every time? Or that Joshua made them forget every time, but in Dark Side of the Moon he decided not to, and he let them naturally remember? Discuss.}

Jack doesn't want to leave Kelly yet, but she tells him she'll be waiting. And this is something that didn't occur to me until rewatch - did Empty Duma give up the right to Jack's soul period, or just for this particular death? If and when he dies again, is The Empty going to claim him again? I would have made that clear, Cas.

Anyway. Cas holds Jack's face and in the bunker, Jack gasps back to life. Sam gives him a spell to read and his eyes glow and he says he feels good. Dean hugs him (because of course Dean gets the hug, why would I think Sam gets the hug, for fuck’s sake) and then the guys notice that Lily has quietly died in the corner. Well, I didn't see that coming.

Nah, that’s cool, I’ll just stand over here and watch, thanks.

We see Lily walking into Anubis's office. He holds up the abacus again and this time, when she puts her hand over it, there are more white beads than black. "Did you know what doing the spell would cost you?" he asks. Apparently she did, and that good deed outweighed enough of her bad deeds that she gets to go to Heaven after all. Yay Lily!

Back in Heaven, Naomi thanks Cas for saving Heaven, even though she knows he didn't do it for them. And she wants to give him a reward. "Like, for example, the archangel Michael's location?" Nice try, Naomi. We all know his location. He's in Lebanon, Kansas right now.

Isn't he?

Bunker. Jack and his dads eat burgers and smile at each other and Dean's glad they know where Michael is. Cas points out that they don't know where Dark Kaia and her spear are, and I'm still thinking about that damn archangel blade, and Jack with his archangel grace which is supposedly regenerating, and why haven't any of them made that connection? Anyway, it's a happy, homey scene, and the camera pans off to the side and I'm absolutely certain that something bad is waiting here. It's going to be a dream, or Dean's eyes are going to flash blue, or something. But no, it just fades to black. Huh.

This seemed a lot more ominous than it should.

So. Let's talk about Cas's deal. I hate it. Jack is back, and the only lasting effect from his brief death is something that will impact Cas. I hate that they took a non-Cas problem and made it a Cas problem. I hate that the rest of the season is going to be about the Sword of Damocles hanging over Cas's head. I want my angst to be over 6 ft tall and to be wearing flannel, THANK YOU VERY MUCH. I just can't get into the sad saga of Cas waiting to be yoinked away. Especially since we know exactly when it's going to happen, even if Cas doesn't. Bad things happen in May, people. (I also wonder why Empty Dude doesn't just go back to sleep.)

And let's talk about the Winchesters' decision to save Jack in the first place. I don't like it. It makes sense only if you know that (1) he'll be taken to The Empty and that it is somehow worse than Hell, and (b) if he doesn't go to The Empty, Heaven will be destroyed. And they didn't know any of that when they decided to go after him. I wanted at least one of them (spoiler alert: SAM) to say "yes this is awful but he was at peace with it and every time we un-kill someone, something awful happens, so maybe we should just let this one go," and of course they would have done the spell anyway, but there should have been some pushback.

And finally, the Michael thing. Are we to believe that Michael is not hiding in Dean after all? Because that means he really did abandon his vessel for no good reason, and that's... that's something that they REALLY need to explain. Hiding in Dean made SO MUCH MORE SENSE. (Could it be that Naomi is lying to Cas? Was she, possibly, Empty Naomi?)

Also, Sam yells he's our kid and then gives him a hearty pat on the shoulder? What the fuck ever.

Anyway, please help me stay unspoiled, thanks!

#spn #14.08 #spoilers #recap #tv recaps #season 14

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softsiwickii · 6 years

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Starting Fresh - Andrew Siwicki

(Hi everyone! This is a new little pic that I'm working on and wanted to share the first part with you. Let me know how you like it..I have plans for it and love writing this!)

Pt. 1

“I don’t know Morgan, it’s a pretty big step to take so soon..” I stall with my iPhone pressed up against my ear, aimlessly wondering around my childhood bedroom.

“If I can do it at twenty years old, you can do it at twenty years old” I hear Morgan giggle on the other line. I sigh and flop down on my bed.

This has been a topic between us for months: me moving to L.A. Truth be told, I never really saw myself as a Cali girl. I always saw that stereotype as girls who walk down the streets with designer clothing, flaunting everything they have and living the “glamorous life”. I pretty much assumed that in a place like L.A, I would stick out like a sore thumb. I’ve never really cared about labels or anything super materialistic. I know, I know. I sound like another kind of pretentious snob, but I promise that I’m the exact opposite. Morgan knows it too and she always rolls her eyes.

“Come onnn” she whines ‘You take all of your classes online anyways, so it’s not like your transferring schools or anything”.

“True” I huff, staring up at the ceiling fan going in rapid circles. “I just don’t know. I don’t know if I can leave my mom and if my dad will be pissed at me and—“

“You know that you’re making up excuses just to make up excuses right now” she cuts me off, shutting down my bullshit. I know her so well that I can almost hear her eyes rolling through the phone.

“Just pull the trigger already, Olivia. I promise that you wont regret it. Would I ever lie to you?”

“No” I cant help but chuckle a little. “God you really know how to convince me.”

“My specialty” she brags “you better book that plane ticket and pack your bags, shishtar!”

I smile to myself “Okay I’ll let you know when I do” I reassure her. We say our goodbyes and I hang up, throwing my phone across the bed with a little sigh, nervously running my fingers through my dark hair. I take a deep breath, trying my hardest to not let my anxiety flood my brain. I remind myself that if I were to trust any friend with my life, it would without a doubt be Morgan. We have been best friends ever since 6th grade, which people find to be surprising since we seem polar opposites. She was always the crazy, party friend while I would rather be inside, curled u[p on the couch watching a movie with a warm cup of coffee in my hands. Despite our differences, she was the yin to my yang. The peanut butter to my jelly. All of those cheesy comparisons. We have always been there for each other, and the more I think about it, the more I cant wait to roommates with her.

I booked my one way ticket from Denver to LA within a matter of minutes after that phone call. It felt like such a relief. Like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I’ve been considering this on and off for about 6 months now and to finally pull the trigger feels so damn good.

Maybe I don’t necessarily have to fit into the Cali girl stereotype. Maybe I can be more free to be myself than I’ve ever felt here at home.

———————————————————————————————

Within a few days, my entire life was packed up into three suitcases and all of a sudden it became real life. I was finally moving out of the house I grew up in and becoming an actual adult. It was thrilling yet scary. For years I’ve let my anxiety control my life: my choices, my relationships..basically everything. Not anymore. As the plane ascended into the air, I felt as though I was leaving all my worries behind me (as cheesy as it sounds). Yes, I knew I would be facing different challenges in LA, but the bad memories of Denver could stay in Denver.

When the plane landed at LAX, my phone immediately buzzed from a dozen messages from Morgan:

“I’ll be here when you land!”

“Are you on your way?”

“You don’t have service do you?”

“Traffic is sooo bad”

“Dude I’m so excited to have a roomie”

“I’M HERE!!!”

“Can we get Chipotle afterwords?”

“Let me know when you land”

I can’t help but roll my eyes and giggle to myself. As annoying as she was, I was really happy to be seeing my best friend again.

It wasn’t long until shrieks filled the airport and Morgan and I’s arms were wrapped tightly around each other. We were both laughing like idiots and a few tears were definitely shed. I mean, come on, wouldn’t you cry after not seeing your best friend for two years?? I guess you ought to think we would loose touch, but it was almost as if we had never left each other.

After we picked up my luggage from the carousel, we headed back to her white G-wagon.

“So listen” she started while putting the key in the ignition “I know you’re probably tired but I want to introduce you to some people.”

“Morgaaan” I complain, lulling my head back on the car seat “I was just on a plane for two and a half hours. I don’t feel like meeting anyone.”

“You’ll like these guys, I promise! Plus, they are probably the most low-key people in LA to be completely honest. Just my brother, his boyfriend, and their two friends.”

I bit down on my bottom lip, feeling nerves kick in and Morgan almost immediately noticing.

“They’ll love youuuu” she moaned, one hand on the wheel and one reaching over to shake my shoulder “Just a few hours.”

“Fine” I give in “But they better be worth it”

“Oh, it will”

#shane and friends #shane dawson #andrew siwicki #andrew siwicki x reader #youtuber blurbs

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huntertales · 6 years

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Part Two: The Secret Life of the Rich and Famous. (The French Mistake S06E15)

Episode Summary: Sam, Dean and the reader find themselves in an alternate reality where everyone believes they are actors who star in the show, “Supernatural” about two brothers and their best friend who hunt monsters. Things only grow worse when the relationships between old enemies and friends become distorted in ways unimaginable. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Word Count: 5,371.

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*Y/F/N = Your “French Mistake” First Name *Y/F/L/N = Your “French Mistake” Last Name

Dead sea brine, blood of lamb and the bone of a lesser saint. The three ingredients you needed to get you back home. Mix the sea bribe and pour about a mason jar size full of blood together in a bowl and crush the bone. The last step was the easiest. All you needed to do was find a window, paint the same sigil Balthazar and jump back into the universe where you were known as Y/N Y/LN. In retrospect it all sounded so easy. Was anything ever for you and the boys? No, it wasn’t.

You suggested getting the hell out of here and finding some place to lay low until you had a secure way of getting these precious ingredients. The boys had other ideas. They outnumbered you with the ingenious plan of going back to the scene of the crime. Surely a TV set was going to have real lamb’s blood and a human bone just lying around the place. You stood next to the broken window and watched as the boys rifled through drawers and overturned all sorts of objects. Dean was finding it hard to find that box of dead sea brine. Sam found success when he opened up the top drawer to Bobby’s desk and pulled out the same baggie Balthazar has searched for.

“Backbone of a lesser saint. Told you...uh,” Sam was about to speak the words of victory at what he was able to find. He lifted up to take a closer inspection at what he found. You crossed your arms over your chest and raised your brow. Quick as that smile grew on his face, the quicker it fell when he squeezed the supposed bone. "It’s plastic.”

“Check this out.” Dean found what looked to be a dagger and held it up for you and Sam to inspect. He bent the blade back and forth. It was easy because it was plastic. You found yourself smiling when Dean grabbed another knife, and without Sam suspecting it, he jabbed his brother with it. Sam flinched slightly, thinking it was the real thing. It wasn't, of course. "It's fake. It's all fake!"

“No. Don't listen to me. What do I know?" You mocked the two of them. Your lips stretched wider into a smirk as the both of them went to look in your direction with annoyance. “Obviously more than you. Now, you idiots want to do this right or not? Let’s get the hell out of here.”

"Of course, everything is fake. We're on a film set." Sam said. You and the boys headed out of the set and back to the lot where you spotted all those Impalas. They looked real enough to work when you gave the suggestion of stealing one of them and riding off the lot. Nobody would question if a couple of actors wanted to take it for a spin. "We gotta get back to the real world."

You and the boys got into the Impala like old times. The car seemed real enough and functioning just fine with the keys conveniently left in the ignition. When Dean turned it on, the familiar purr of Baby's engine roared to life and the wipers worked just fine when they began to take off the layer of dirt caked on. What possible reason would Baby be covered in this kind of filth? You didn't question it farther than that or cared when you started moving.

“All right, we go round up the genuine supplies, bring them here for the spell.” You said. Things were almost looking up...until the car started acting up. The Impala was barely round a corner and driving less than a minute before things started to happen. Dean couldn't accelerate past five minutes an hour and the gears started to squeak slightly and groan. “What the hell is going on? What is wrong with this thing?”

“Mr. Ackles, please. Mr. Ackles, stop.”

You turned your head to the left side of the Impala when you heard knocking on the driver's side window. Someone's gloved hand wiped away the dirt so they could peer inside to see what all of you were doing. You saw a kid that looked no older than twenty frantically jogging to the speed the Impala was going. He must have been a crewmember trying to keep his job. You winced in embarrassment from what you had just done.

“Dean,” Sam broke the news to his brother. “It’s not the Impala.”

“You think? It’s a freaking prop. Just like everything else. Nice work, Nancy Drew.” Dean said. He threw his hands up in the air in frustration before slamming them down on the wheel. Your plan turned out to be a dud just like theirs. Dean shut off the engine and stepped foot out to be greeted by the kid, who was nervously mumbling thank you’s. The oldest Winchester wasn’t in the mood. If he was this supposed Jensen Ackles, star of this stupid show, he had a house. Which meant all of you could lay low there. “How the hell are we supposed to get out of here?”

The kid nervously smiled. He escorted you across the backlot where the three of you would be able to get off the set, properly. It was a matter of time until you were sitting in the backseat of the company car, squeezed between both boys after you insisted that you would be more than happy to carpool with them. Eco friendly was your excuse, a few crewmembers gave you a bit of a surprised look from what they saw. The backseat was rather roomy enough for the three of you. You could at least let out a slight sigh of relief from getting the hell out of that place.

“You know whereabouts you want to drop you off?” The driver asked from the front seat. You and the boys quickly stopped your whispered conversation and fell silent. “Jensen?”

“Me? Yes. Uh…” Dean found himself responding when you elbowed him in the ribcage when he was being addressed by his supposed real name. He tried to think of an answer when he looked over at his brother. “I—I’ll just tag along with, uh...Jared here.”

“Since when are you guys talking?” The driver asked, you furrowed your brow slightly from his question. You heard that a few times by passing, but it was the first time someone asked you up front.

“Yeah, you know what, Clint?” Sam spoke up. The driver corrected the younger Winchester by saying his name was Clif. You didn’t really care what his name was. “Yeah. Yeah, of course. Clif, obviously. So I think we’re gonna go back to my place...and uh, do some work.”

"Work on our acting. For our characters. For the show." Dean added. You shook your head from how much Dean was talking. Clif chuckled and seemed to believe the lie before focusing back onto driving. Dean looked out the window to see all of you were driving down a busy highway in the city. He asked where about all of you were, but he found his answer when he saw a Vancouver sign pass by. He sank back into his seat when he realized. "Dude, we're not even in America."

You turned your head to look at the older Winchester with a look of disbelief. “You honestly think that’s the worst of it?”

+ + +

It was a short car ride until you and the boys were escorted to this supposed Jared Padalecki household. But to say that it was any other house would have been an understatement of the century. The three of you were stepping into a freaking mansion. At least three sizes bigger than your own home back in your universe. It seemed being on a not so popular TV show sure brought in the big bucks. You stepped inside the place with the boys leading the way. Each of you were taken back when you realized this all belonged to Sam—or Mr. Padalecki. And it was all of his to enjoy. You suddenly began to wonder what kind of place you called home.

“Nice modest digs, Jay-Z.” Dean remarked.

The first level of the house was nothing short of something out of an interior magazine for the rich and famous. High ceilings with dark wood paneling and floorboards that were so clean, it showed off your reflection. Along with furniture that was sleek and rather expensive looking. You were impressed, that was for sure. “Wow.” Sam gawked. “I must be the star of this thing.”

"Yeah, you wish." You said. You wandered further into the mansion and examined all sorts of expensive and impressive looking things that decorated the place. While most of the stuff were paintings or useless knick knacks that served nothing more than to fill empty space, you found yourself a little baffled at what laid across the room. “Check it out.”

"What am I," Sam was taken back at the sight of something that looked like an oversized and gray coffin. You stepped forward to take a closer look at it when you realized what it might be. "Dracula?"

You bent down and opened up the top to the thing to inspect it further, the boys discovered that it wasn’t a coffin, but in fact a tanning bed. You looked over at Sam when you started to chuckle at what you found. "George Hamilton Dracula." You said, shutting the top. “I hope Jared realizes how bad tanning is for your skin.”

"He sure knows how to stock a bar. Now we're talking." Dean said. It didn't take him long to discover an entire liquor cabinet stocked with all sorts of wine and whiskey calling his name. Dean walked over and happily began to fix himself a drink. You crossed your arms over your chest and continued looking around the place. All of a sudden, the three of you abruptly stopped what you were doing when you heard a yelping that sounded like it was an animal of some sort. Dean went to the door and peered outside to see what it was. “Dude, you have a camel in your backyard.”

“It’s an alpaca, dumbass.” You and the boys heard another voice come out of nowhere and corrected the older Winchester. You quickly looked over your shoulder and to the balcony on the second floor to see a face you hadn't seen in what felt like years. Dean mumbled the woman’s name with a bit of surprised at who he saw in the flesh. He had killed her after what she did to all of you. Now she headed down the stairs, live and in the flesh, dressed like she was ready for a night out on the town. “Right. Cause that one never gets old. How was work today, hon?”

Sam didn’t know what to say. He watched as the woman he’d known as Rudy, demon who had turned his life upside down and released Lucifer from the cage. The one who was stabbed by his brother and left for dead in that church. She approached him and gave him a kiss on the lips. You slowly looked away from the woman to see there was Andy Warhol inspired artwork on the walls of not only Sam's face, but Ruby's face as well. You felt your lips stretch into a small smile from what was going on. Part out of slight fear from what you were finding more out about this universe, another part from finding this situation a little funny.

“Wait,” Dean couldn’t wrap his mind around the idea that his little brother and the actress who played Ruby were together. She didn’t look all that amused. “You and Ruby?”

“Do you honestly think that’s funny, Jensen?” She asked. It seemed this wasn’t the first time she heard this joke about being accidentally, or purposefully, being called by her character’s name from the look on her face. You gave her a smile when she looked in your direction.

“Right. Because you’re not Ruby. You...I mean, how could you be? You...of course, you are the lovely actress who plays Ruby. And you are in Jared’s house… because you two are…” Dean struggled to come up with a decent enough lie that sounded believable. He looked over to the mantle to see a picture of the beloved alpaca, along with a photograph of fake Ruby and Jared, happily embracing one another with a smile. You furrowed your brow when you saw she was in a wedding dress and Jared in a tux. "Married—You married fake Ruby?"

"What are you doing?" Fake Ruby asked. She obviously wasn’t believing a single word coming out of Dean’s mouth as she looked at the three of you with a bit of suspicion.

“Work.” Sam blurted out. “Work. Heh.”

“Yeah. Jensen and I wanted to stop in and say hey. Been a while since we've seen you." You spoke up. You rocked back and forth on your heels as you gave her a smile, attempting to pass off a decent lie before the boys could make even more of a complete fool out of themselves in front of her. "And maybe run some lines."

Fake Ruby raised her brow from your excuse, “You two have never even been to our house.”

"Well, now that we know there's an alpaca, we're definitely coming back." You said, nervously chuckling as you pointed a finger to the door. "Hell, I...I'll even bring Nate the next time around. You know, my fiancé. Sure he'd love seeing that thing."

“Well, alpacas are the greenest animal.” Fake Ruby said. Your lips stretched wider into a smile as you nodded your head from that useless fact you didn’t need to know. She pushed herself up to her feet as she took a seat on the arm of the leather couch. “Well, there’s that thing I have to get to. The International Otter Adoption charity dinner? Okay well,” She walked over to her husband and attempted to give him a farewell kiss for the evening. Fake Ruby found it a bit awkward when Sam tried his hardest to act normal as Dean averted his gaze while you tried to find interest in anything but the two of them. “Well, I’m glad you three are talking, anyway.”

The three of you watched as she began walking to the front door to attend her charity dinner, leaving you and the boys alone for the evening. You looked over at Sam with a small smile from what you just learned.

“You and Ruby, huh? Not bad.” You said. “I always thought you two were cute together.”

"Yeah." Sam mumbled. You could see the ends of his lips stretching into a smile, seeming happy himself at how lucky of a guy Jared was. Fancy mansion, beautiful wife. Not to mention, an alpaca as a pet. What more could a guy ask for? Sam's smile dimmed for a moment when he realized one crucial thing. "I should figure out her name."

+ + +

You and the boys found yourselves in the library part of the Padalecki mansion. Sam occupied the desk while you and Dean sat across from each other at the poker table. Searching the name of Jared’s wife was all too easy. Ruby 2.0 was played by a woman named Genevieve Cortese. Both of them were married last February. The internet was great for finding all sorts of useless information. While it was easy to find a name, what was presenting to be a challenge was trying to find a bone of a lesser saint. You weren't having any sort of luck after searching for almost an hour. It seemed it was gonna be trickier than you thought.

You let out a sigh and moved your eyes away from the laptop screen to give yourself a break Sam was diligently working at the desk, hard at work like usual. You looked away from him and to the photograph on the wall above him to see what it was. You furrowed your brow slightly to see that it was a portrait of him when he was a few years younger, dressed in a cowboy hat while riding a horse. You didn’t even want to know the origin of it. Or why someone would put that up in their study.

“‘Wrist bone of a saint and holy reliquary. Museum-quality from diocese in Oaxaca.’” Sam said. It seemed his luck was better than yours. He found exactly what all of you needed. “Seems legit.”

“All right. Auction house is in Mexico City. Could be there day after tomorrow.” Dean said. He was thinking back to his old ways as a hunter. Steal what you needed and get the job done. “We case it, yank it, be back here by the end of the week.”

“Or we could just by it.” Sam suggested.

“What?” You scoffed at his plan. You pushed yourself up to your feet to take a look at this bone. You read the price tag and let out a low whistle from how much it was. “Dude, that thing is over a hundred thousand dollars. It cost more than my house—” You were cut off when you saw Sam pull out a credit card with the shining words of platinum membership. Your lips stretched into a smirk when you realized that all of you were supposed to be actors. Rich actors. “Hello, Jared Padalecki.”

You and Sam got to work with getting ahold of the bone. It took a few phone calls and your knowledge of basic Spanish to get ahold of the artifact. Dean to work on some other things you might need when he found his wallet had turned into all cards that were waiting to be spent.

"Triple rush? No problemo because money is no—" Dean grinned as he punched in the numbers of one Jensen Ackles' credit card into the information. He hit the enter button and waited to be greeted with the news of his package being processed and delivered. Only that never happened. A small window popped up, informing him that his transaction had been declined. Dean chucked the card over his shoulder and fetched out another. "This baby is maxed."

"Wow." You mumbled. You ended the call and put the phone back on the hook. You stood there for a moment with a grin, feeling a little bit of an adrenaline rush from what you just did. You and Sam had just spent a hundred grand, just like that. No stealing, no long car rides. "They said it should be at the airport first thing in the morning."

"Money, sweetheart." Dean said with a smile of his own. "There is nothing like it."

So far, so good. You began walking back to the table where the laptop was so you could do some research for your own enjoyment. Before you even got the chance to sit down, you heard the sound of phone going off and a vibration in your back pocket. You furrowed your brow and pulled out your phone from your pocket. You were expecting to see the same burner phone you'd been carrying around for months now. Instead it was a nifty looking, very expensive touch screen phones. You saw the contact name was "Future Hubby" with a familiar smiling face lighting up the screen.

"Crap." You muttered underneath your breath. Dean glanced up from the laptop after he finished completing his purchase to see you suddenly looked like a deer in headlights. You contemplated on letting it go to voicemail or answer it. You weren't yourself. You inhaled a deep breath and pressed the green button on the screen. "H-Hello?"

"Well, I guess I should've taken the hint. Surprise birthdays aren't your thing." You were greeted with the slightly familiar accent of Nate, your supposed fiancé, the actor who played Josh, from over the line. You furrowed your brow slightly from how he lead the conversation with. You stayed silent for a moment longer, unsure of what to say. "I know it was Macie who tipped you off. I'm sorry, okay? Please don't give me the silent treatment, Y/F/N."

"Uh, it’s okay?” You spoke again with something that sounded right for this situation. You shrugged your shoulders when the boys looked at you with slight confusion, wondering what the conversation was about. You heard Nate let out a sigh from the other line. A second later, he asked where you were. "I'm spending some time at Jared's house with Jensen. You know, my coworkers."

“You three have never spoken a single word to each other for long as I've known you." Nate said. You heard it again, this supposed relationship with your coworkers seemed rocky. "Well, I hope you're having fun. What time are you coming home? It's getting late. And you know you have to be at the studio early tomorrow."

“Right. ‘Cause I’m an actor. And that’s what we do.” You mumbled underneath your breath. It sounded sarcastic and snarky to you, like someone who hated their job. That's how Nate took it.

"I know you don't like this season. And I know you’re still angry about having to turn down that role because the show got picked up for another season. But you're luckier than most actors to have a job for this long. And you did enjoy the show at one point.” Nate said. “Look, why don’t I come pick you up? It’s been a long day.. Nothing a long bath and a good night’s rest can’t fix for tomorrow’s trouble.”

“No, no.” You said, trying to back out of his suggestion. All of you were so close to getting the hell out of here. What you needed was to stay put for the night before going back to your own universe. “That’s okay—“

Before you could try and change his mind, you heard defeat from the dial tone, signaling the end of the conversation. You cursed underneath your breath and shoved the phone back in your pocket. Guess it was time to do a little acting of your own.

+ + +

You had never felt out of place than you did right now. You sat in the passenger side of the car that supposedly belonged to you, Nate in the driver's side as the both of you drove down the highway with the radio quietly playing. You smiled when he spoke to you and tried to give answers that sounded right. So far the only things that Nate asked you about was work. You looked out the window and watched the city of Vancouver come closer in your direction. In the matter of minutes, you and him were pulling up to a large building. You noticed that it was an apartment building, doorman and marbled lobby included.

“Wait,” You stopped Nate from unbuckling his seatbelt and getting out of the car when you pointed to the building he parked in front of. “Is this where we live?”

"Yeah. For the past three years. Top floor. You insisted on us buying it when you saw the view of the city. And you wanted to be close to work. Since you loved your job at one point." Nate said. His lips stretched into a smile from how you were acting. "Also the house in the Hamptons, the house in L.A. and my flat in London. Also that little place in New York we were thinking about buying after the wedding’s over.”

You could feel your lips stretching into a smile at what you were being told. A sweet penthouse on the top floor, a few other properties and a sweet car like this? Jared Padalecki must have got nothing on you. The both of you stepped out of the car and headed to the revolving door. The doorman smiled and greeted you as Y/F/N when you passed by. You reminded yourself to smile and went on your way. You stepped into the elevator and watched as Nate pushed the button for the top floor and then inserted a key. You pulled out your phone went you felt it go off again.

How’s the high life treating Y/F/N Y/F/L/N?

You felt your lips stretched into a smile when you saw that it was a text from Dean, even though the contact said it was Jensen. Amazing. Someone’s got a top floor penthouse, house in the Hampton's AND L.A., along with a flat in London. I’ll meet you tomorrow at the—You were busy concentrating on composing a text to Dean, you didn't realize you were up at your level already until you heard the elevator doors open. When you glanced up for a quick moment, you found yourself doing a double take at the sight of your penthouse. All of yours to do what you wanted.

You quickly shut your mouth before you could do anything that riled suspicion. If you thought Jared Padalecki had good taste, Y/F/N's was even better. You stepped out of the elevator and into your penthouse that looked straight out of your dreams. Everything looked like a perfect mix of your taste along with a modern feel. You examined everything, from the paintings on the walls to that view of the city. There was an entire wall that was just a window, overlooking the sight of the city at night. You found yourself standing there for a moment, watching as the night unfolded beneath your feet.

In this universe, all of this was yours. And you were more than happy to stick around for a little longer to enjoy. But there was one thing that you could have done without.

“Happy birthday, love.” You found your concentration broken away from the sight when you felt a pair of arms wrap around your body from behind. You realized it was Nate. You looked down to see there was a small rectangular box. You hesitantly tried not to pull away from his embrace. Instead, you grabbed the box and opened it up. You felt yourself letting out a slight gasp at what you saw. It was a diamond necklace. Encrusted with too many to count. They shined underneath the light. "For the wedding. I know you’ve been wanting to keep with tradition. That saying—what is it. Something borrowed, something new. And I know you've been eyeing this for a while. Said it would look good with your dress."

"Oh my....this looks expensive." You found yourself blurting out the first thing that came to mind. When you realized what you just said, you felt your cheeks burn and turned around to face your supposed fiancé. “I mean, not that it’s beautiful. It is—“

It seemed your reaction was what Y/F/N would have done when Nate broke out into a smile and chucked quietly. “I know. But you only get married once." Nate said, shrugging his shoulders at what he did for his future wife. "And I wanted to do things right. Treat you like the queen that you are. Unlike what happened with your last engagement."

You looked up from the necklace from what you heard him say, "My last engagement?”

Nate's face dropped slightly when he realized what he said. He let out a sigh and winced at the sore remark that came out the wrong way. "I know you don't like talking about it. I shouldn't have said anything. I don't want what we have to disappear.” He said. You gave him a smile, as if you were reassuring him that everything was fine. That what you had with him was great. “I was gonna wait until the day of the wedding to give it to you. But when I heard you and Jensen were hanging out after shooting, I got a bit...jealous."

You refrained yourself from asking anymore questions. You shut the box and looked around the penthouse once more before back to Nate. “You know, I think I’ll take that bath now.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Nate agreed. You tried your hardest not to slap his hands away when they greedily wrapped around your hips. You pretended that he was Dean. That all of this was for the two of you. “I’ve got your favorite champagne chilling. Get yourself nice and naked and I’ll bring you a glass.”

You smiled and mumbled a thank you, watching as Nate turned around and headed for the kitchen. You tightened your grip around the box and tried to find your way around the place until you found the bathroom after you accidentally stumbled upon every other room. And you were even more impressed. You were still grinning at the sight of your walk in closet, decorated inch by inch with designer clothes and shoes that you could only dream of. Along with jewelry that sure didn’t look like costume stuff. Not to mention the wedding dress that you found hanging up. You never pictured yourself walking down the aisle, but when you laid eyes on it, you couldn’t get the image out of your head.

Soon enough, you found yourself naked as the day you were born, soaking in a tub that could fit two extra people, drinking champagne and covered neck to toe in bubbles. You were alone with the door lock, an ice bucket with an open bottle of champagne and expensive looking chocolates (a supposed gift from someone you never heard of) at your disposal. Nate said that he was going to bed, giving you some much needed privacy. With one hand holding a glass and the other your phone, you did a quick Google search before your eyes began reading the first headline that popped up.

You let out a quiet chuckle from what you read. It seemed no matter what universe you were in, you and Dean somehow found your way together. The headlines that you found were about you two being previously engaged when the once popular show "Supernatural" started. But it was you who called it off right before season two started shooting. It was only a month after that when Y/F/N started dating Nate, and a few years later, the happy couple was engaged to be married. Costars Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki not included.

You put the phone down somewhere safe and refilled your glass. When you got comfortable, you found yourself staring at the window of the city and thinking. God forbid if you and the boys were to stay in this universe, maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Ditch Nate for Dean, run away together somewhere nobody knew you and put that wedding dress to good use. Of course, the possibilities of that ever happening in your universe were the chances of you owning a place like this

You let out a sigh and brought the drink back up to your mouth to take a long and much needed drink. Tonight you weren't going to play anyone. You were just another person in the billions of others that populated this universe You were going to soak in this tub for long as you wanted and enjoy yourself. Tomorrow you were going to be Y/N Y/L/N again. Like how it should be.

You lowered yourself into the tub and shut your eyes. However...Y/N Winchester did have a good ring to it. You brought up your left hand and examined the diamond engagement ring that you found sitting on the nightstand. You put it on for fun, but you found yourself staring at it, wondering what would it be like if it were on your finger all the time. How Dean would try and propose to you. All things that were a mere fantasy that came out of nowhere when you saw that dress and put on this ring you would have to return tomorrow. But it made you wonder if there would ever be a time where you and him could change things up a bit in your world.

Perhaps one day you could....maybe.

[Next Part]

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curious-minx · 3 years

Text

A simple man accidentally joins Qanon.

I am looking for the trunklike opening of a cavern that is promising a hermitage of monks. Instead, I accidentally got recruited by Qanon.

I only ended up with them because I thought the rough looking recruiter woman with desperate destruction in her eyes said “Qui-Gon Jinn.” He is a real big influence on my overall look. The recruiter grabbed me by the pip of my ponytail and gave me a fierce rub down. She did not manage to extract anything from me because she wasn’t looking for anything special for me, I was basically cornmeal to her. A necessary means to an end. I try to quickly terminate my contract with the Qanoners, I’m a goner.

There is no mesh bag thrown over your head. I watch myself get dragged and kidnapped. I stand outside of myself and spit on myself. I hope I rot in Qanon mud club basement for all I care. Alas, I am very much chained to my corporeal form and rejoin back inside my raging crunching bones being dragged across an empty gymnasium. Old prom decorations are adorning the rafters; the apparent theme is Trapped In The Closet. This dates the decorations as a typical early 00’s macro-aggression. What do these people want with me? I try to remember all of the rest of the who’s, why’s, what and how I should be trying to grasp at as I continue to be dragged onwards and onwards. How large can the expanse of this gym be? Every time it looks like I am approaching a halfway full court circle the room seems to grow further in distance. A very roomy and interactive treadmill.

My assailant snaps her head around and with a tension in her throat, she croaks, “Aren’t you going to put up a fight?”

“I’ve been dragged longer.” I respond. I am not trying to be cheeky. I am stating a clear fact, but she begins dragging me faster and faster. The gymnasium becomes a bleak parking lot full of abandoned cars full of bloody empty car seats and cabbage patch doll sitting on top of smashed dash boards. The texture of the ground changes from glossy and buffed gymnasium wood flooring into typical pavement. I am starting to bleed more than I am comfortable with.

“Alright I give. Please stop. Enough.”

“Look we’ve reached our hide-out. You’ve passed, you’re a real Qtie.”

“You don’t call yourselves that.”

“Fake news to you too.” This woman with her exacting haircut sounds really tired. Maybe a tad attention starved as well. I don’t feel any sexual pleasure being dragged and humiliated by her, I just feel like she really needs a win. This is certainly not the forested idyllic hermitage haven where I could be with men who made soap and floral craft beer. I had to get out of here. The only way down is up.

“I could use a doctor. Are there any any Qute doctors.”

“No one reveals their civilian lives here. Cut that shit out. Throw those lives away when you commune with Q.”

Quetzalcoatl have mercy on my soul. I am starting to remember a vague idea of what these Qanon people about. I have been taking sketch comedy writing classes and people would occasionally mention these group. I don’t see how these people are funny anymore. These people are monsters. I hate being surrounded by only white people. And as my captor cum guide peels back the security layers of bricks and mortar sealing away their underground den I try to appreciate the outside as much as possible. I am not sure if the sky is still a simulation, but the sky is disappointing tonight. There are some parts of the country that are like this. Rarely if ever a nice night sky to look up. Clearly these safety sign orange skies add up to a lot of restless white supremacists, apparently. These people always want so many excuses for their behavior.

What kind of people are Qanon? They are not hicks. They carry glints of rolodex watches and sweaty pit stained polos. I know which way the khaki blows and it’s directly into my stake. I’m aiming for where it really hurts. I have no stake, I only have my torn and bloodied office attire and swelling inner violence. The sex cult accusations robbed me of my trust of Tom Hanks and for that they must pay. A man inside of a muscular blow up suit in the shape of a gimplike strongman is wheeled out onto stage. The woman who was dragging me tenderly injects his arm with a substance in the manner of heroin. That is if heroin is a slightly glowing gooey substance. A wet and warbling voice sputters out from inside of the man inside of the man.

“War! All out full blown war. There is no other option.”

“Yes Q!” mummers and sputters out the rest of the room. No one is saying the letter with bravado, everyone is saying it like a dirty secret for them and them alone.

A large man with the odor of bleach wearing nothing but overalls is carrying a steel suitcase and has come up to stand next to Q. Q begins to sputter and groan. The woman has begun strapping him to a chair, wrapping him so tightly that his arms immediately bruise and purple. The man opens the suitcase and begins rapidly assembling a preteen girl. The sort of tomboyish puckish preteen girl with a slight gap and whistle between her teeth, she is adorable or at least she becomes adorable once the the man snaps her head into place.

“Sp-sp-sp-spppppeak!” Q burbles he sounds like he is swallowing his own tongue back into his pinpoint shaped head.

“This man touched me! This man raped me! This woman tried to abort me! This woman helped child predators. This woman is a child predator. This man fucked me every which way. I no longer know what’s real anymore. What am I? This is so fucked up man! I’m losing my mind!” The preteen girl begins to scream and sob. With every accusation thrown out Q’s two main assistants have thrown out portraits of Bill Clinton, Bill Gates, AOC, Judy Blume, Oprah, and Paul Rudd. The rest of the room begins whispering the letter Q all over again, this time more confident.

Q’s two assistance look like they are going to come in for a group hug with the girl and they do, but when the man and woman meet together the girl immediately collapses into a pile of limbs. The suitcase closes and the man scurries off like a child during a panty raid. The woman begins scanning the room while she smashes chapstick across her trembling lips. Despite knowing exactly where I am standing because I have been firmly planted and transfixed in rictus horror as I try processing this spectacle she makes a big showcase with her eyes when gaze bores into me. I try to do the look side to side, “Who, me?” routine but two sausage fingered women with ballcaps pulled over their faces push me from behind and up onto the stage with Q.

“How do you do Qties and of course you too Q?”

“You don’t speak to Q!” Says the woman who is now starting to blend and blur together with the rest of these agitated pale faces. As I decent white person I can only handle being in the approximate of so many white people, the saturation point has been completely shattered.

I swear I see a greasy wide, chode tongue lick the rubber lips in the depths of Q’s costume. The suit begins squeaking and falls deflated onto the ground. There is no trace of the man called Q. I appreciate a good vanishing act by trying to throw up. The woman acts like she’s mad at me like I am some sort of noble house cat regurgitating on her Pendleton, she’s crowding up at me and getting in my face. She speaks, her breath smells like fuel.

“Your lucky he likes you fella. We don’t do this for all the boys.” Of course, the bleach man comes back this time reeking of chlorine as well. He’s riding a rolling dentist chair using his leg to push him along like a scooter. He reaches the lip of the stage and without any effort sweeps the dental operatory chair onto the stage as well. I am not liking where this is going and try to make a break for what I believe to be the exit.

The man scoops me in his wretched hairless and freckled arms.“Hold up. Q likes you.”

“There is no doubt that he likes him. Q accepts everyone who looks a little bit like Jesus.” The once tired woman now suddenly seems completely rejuvenated. The puffy bags under her eyes are glistening. The joys of dentistry. She pulls out a completely golden drill. A satin sheen gold that looks like no spray can job. My head is held back and my tooth is extracted and held up under the expectation. The rest of the crowd of Qties have more or less dispersed and are murmuring to one another over hunched over rings of phone lights. The jukebox plays Ted Nugent with pitched and slow down vocals to fit the anonymous motif.

Bleach and chlorine man takes my tooth and skips off in the manner of a fairy tale character but returns quickly this time. He is still carrying something but his hand is cupped and I cannot see if it’s my tooth.

“You’ve grown awfully quiet. Are you taking it all in? Do you see what this is truly all about?”

“Yeah you guys have a real serious project going on. This seems like an immense job. I want to help out in any way I can.”

“You won’t. You’ll forget you ever saw this place. You’re lucky to make it out alive, luckier still to not end up on a sex offender registry. Q has different plans for you. Now go follow the trail of innocent blood and open your mouth.”

“Again?” As I say this the woman sprays me with a slightly acidic and fizzy tasting spritz that makes the roof of my mouth feel dense. The feeling gradually dissipates as I stumble down through the gallery of wretches and human refuse that is populating the joint. Sure some of these people probably have legitimate struggles and a hard working background, but there’s a lot of corrupted doughiness to go around. Not chubby. Chubby people are full of joy and adventure, this was more of a kind of excessive candle wax flesh coating these people, mostly the men. The women were of more stripes. Some look like innocuous librarians or Sunday School cheerleaders or Boss bitches. The whole gambit.

I reach the exit. The bleach chlorine man is already waiting for me. He wrings out a blindfold that was bunched up uncomfortably close to his groin. I am not a homophobic man. I appreciate the smell of a musk, there is a refined strain of dick cheese out there, and a man this overwhelming chemical should have a sterile blindfold. Except he is wringing this blindfold out. Some kind of liquid is dropping on the floor, but before I can make out what drips have dropped my eyes have been folded into the blinds. There is no graceful exit.

After much leaves are rustled. Drivers negotiating with the bald patches of darkness dotting the byways and leeways of my swampy homeland. I purposely made a trip out of joining the monks. I didn’t want to join a local enclave so I made sure to cross several state lines. Once I can smell the odor of burning leaves do I realize I have actually been driven all the way to my backwoods home. The home I tried so hard to leave behind. A light has come on and my parents, older sister and the gentleman trying to pretend to be our maid all come out all wearing various robes and sleepwear, arms crossed in unison. I finally take off my blind fold.

“Christ almighty I didn’t think you were alive. I thought I was doing another corpse drop off. Get the fuck outta here. Cant afford any bad luck, fuck!” He drives his miserable reliable fiat as fast as it will go and when my family discerns that I am more or less in one piece they march single file back inside. I sit outside on the perpetually damp cushioned porch swing and sway myself into a woozy and necessary sleep.

///

My tooth, my back right molar is sprouting sinister veins of terrible pain throughout my jaw. I cannot speak. I am rendered a strong, silent handsome type. I refuse to accept these parameters. People love my reedy and oaty mellifluous voice. Remember how much I look up to Qui-Gon Jinn? Good, it should give you idea of what I’m dealing with. I am in my basement bathroom. Always the basement dweller never the chic chateau bachelor. I take a bottle of vodka, a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and a bottle of mineral water. I slosh them together in a plastic watering can that I use to sustain my miserable array of jungle flowers.

My older sister, Cottontail, has arrived with my mail and more. She says this unlabeled package was delivered by a woman that could only be described as a real Karen. My sister then reminds me how much she hates using that sexist phrase but she calls them like she sees them. Cottontail gives me an overly long slab of sustained eye contact, and then she asks about the violence across my face. I wave her away, I begin tearing into the envelope. The jutting dental pain makes the process of opening the envelope feel like a real superhero pal adventure, an overly long and painful slog. After several bouts of muffled screams of agony and several miles of drool streaks of blood I get into the envelope. How do I have so much blood in my body? Inside the envelope’s interior flap is bold and American flag covered Q. There’s a sugar and carmel dusted pretzel shaped as a Q inside of the envelope and a note that says, “Take a bite out of this.”

Merely reading the word bite causes a castanet snap of bile in my throat, but I hold the pretzel up to my mouth. I realize that it is not a pretzel and that the brown coloring is made from the dark brown crystal sugars. The entire Q is made out of sugar. Maybe one bite will give me the quick and lethal kind of diabetes? I chomp down and am met with a surge of relief as soon as the sugar crystals sing and fizzle in my mouth pooling around the suspect molar. All pain has been wiped clear as long as I keep the sugar flowing.

I must have all the candy under God’s gaseous and toxic land. I run up to the candy striper and shake her by the shoulders and tell her I need my sugar rush! Q has sent me! My face and a negative circle of the banned lines nearly every location sugary confections are sold.

#surreal fiction #surrealism #short story #fiction #weird fiction #qanon #fuck quanon #qanon explained

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