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bourbonbees · 3 years

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Suptober Day 6- Cemetery Boys

https://archiveofourown.org/works/34336042

Rating- G Jack POV

Jack has discovered there are a great deal of things that he loves about being human, he loves eating cake, taking his dog for walks, and swimming, but there’s nothing he loves more than his family. His family is not conventional, he’s got three dads, one of which is an angel, but all of them love him unconditionally. It’s rocky at first with Dean but after some quality time spent listening to Zep and going fishing together, the grumpy hunter warms up to him. It also doesn’t hurt that Jack’s first dad, Castiel, is also Dean’s partner and therefore holds a lot of sway over him, whether he likes it or not. Sam, his third dad was the best! He’s the one that establishes family movie night, Jack’s favorite night of the week!

Sam lets Jack pick the movies pretty much every week, much to Dean’s dismay. This week Jack chooses Ghostbusters as his pick. It’s great, he especially loves the jokes and the Stay Puffed Marshmallow man. He isn’t sure where the writers did their research for the movie though, his experiences with ghosts contain a lot less whimsy and a lot more salting and burning. The movie is just wrapping up when it hits him, they don’t have a name, every great team of heroes has a name.

“Hey, why don’t we have a name?” Jack poses the question, looking to Dean for a response.

“Kid, how much candy have you had? Are you sugar crashing? Remember, me Dean, you Jack, that annoying guy over there, Sam, this adorable ray of sunshine, Castiel.” Dean is concerned, he feels Jack’s forehead and looks him over, his parental instincts kicking in.

“No like a team name! Like there’s The Avengers, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, uh The Fellowship of the Ring.” Jack lists off, Sam sending him a proud smile at the last one.

“Jack, hunters don’t really do teams. We’re kinda solitary, it’s our nature.” Sam explains, causing Jack even further confusion as he looks around at his family. They do everything together, live together, celebrate wins together, spend holidays together, work together, is that not a team?

“We’re not a team? Isn’t a family a team?” Jack frowns, worrying that he’s misread a long series of social cues. He is prone to that sometimes, his brain working a bit differently from his dads, neurodivergent, that’s what Sam had called it.

“Jack, oh, of course we’re a team. But more than that, we’re family.” Cas swoops in, reaching over and patting Jack on the shoulder. Cas is always the gentlest of his dads, he gives really good hugs, and is the one Jack goes to on the days where being a human is too much to deal with.

“Would it make you feel better if we had a team name?” Dean offers, following Cas’ lead. Jack doesn’t miss when Cas sends Dean a small nod of approval. Dean has a different parenting approach, sometimes he’s a bit harder on Jack. Jack doesn’t like that but he understands that Dean is trying.

“Yeah, I was thinking Cemetery Boys!” Jack says right away, looking around the room expectantly. Sam chokes slightly on his beer while Cas smiles approvingly, Dean laughs softly, shaking his head at Jack.

“Well we do spend a disproportionate amount of time in cemeteries, so it makes sense to me.” Jack defends, his cheeks feeling hot, blushing, that’s what Sam had told him it was. Sometimes Jack hates being human, blushing is embarrassing and makes him feel a bit like a baby.

“Shouldn’t we be cemetery men?” Dean questions, raising a quizzical brow at Jack.

“Technically speaking, Jack and myself are neither male nor female. So, no.” Cas supplies, shrugging his shoulders at Dean and earning an eye roll. Jack doesn’t understand why his dads enjoy teasing each other so much, maybe annoying someone was another human way to express love?

“So, you’re telling me, I came out as bisexual for nothing because, I’m not really dating a man?” Dean blanches, gently smacking Cas on the shoulder. Hitting people is another love language Jack has learned, but not too hard, he learned that after accidently punching Sam a little too enthusiastically on the shoulder. Play fighting is good, actual violence is bad, he had explained that to him.

“We’re non-binary! Claire taught me that.” Jack is happy to interrupt, always happy to share the latest things he’d learned. He loves Claire for that reason, she’s always full of new things to learn, she is an excellent big sister. “Claire, Me, Cas, and Dean, we’re all LGBLT? Or is it LGBTQ? Either way, Claire is a lesbian, she also taught me that. And Dean, you’re a bisexual! Cas, you’re gay, I think? So, you didn’t come out for nothing, you came out for your non-binary partner.” Ha! Jack is very proud, this is one area he feels confident he knows more about than Sam, Dean, or even Cas.

“You’re surprisingly well informed for a toddler.” Sam compliments, tipping his beer bottle at him.

“The toddler age range ends at 3, I assure you, Jack is 4. He is no longer a toddler. I read all the development books.” Cas corrects, earning a laugh from Dean and a groan from Sam.

“He did, trust me Sammy, made me read some of them as well. Babies are weird man. Glad you came out fully formed kid, it was a relief.” Dean chuckles. Jack is relieved he came out fully formed too, it’s a lot more fun hanging out with his family when he can talk to them like this.

“I’m a celestial being, age doesn’t exist for me. I am as old or as young as I want to be at any given minute. Isn’t that neat?” Jack prides himself on choosing this form, a teenage body, he likes it because he can help his family. He likes going hunting, driving cars, and helping Dean cook dinner, a baby couldn’t do any of that!

“He really is your son-uh I mean they really are your child?” Dean self corrects, Jack notices he does that a lot more lately, again he really is trying to be better. Jack admires that about Dean, it’s something he tries to emulate as best as he can, always working to be a better person and make his mistakes right.

“Oh, I’m comfortable with he/they, just like my dad! I do feel like a boy most of the time.” Jack looks to Cas who nods along with him. They’d talked about it once, Cas explained that Jack could change a number of things about himself if he wished, if it would better match his soul. But Jack is really and truly happy with who he is. So is Cas.

“Yeah that’s my son.” Cas says fondly, pulling Jack into a hug. This is a good hug, the kind that makes Jack feel safe and cared for. Cas always makes him feel like he belongs, that no matter what he has a place in his arms.

That night, Jack sets a plan into motion. He waits until everyone is asleep and gets to work on creating gifts for his family. He uses his powers to manifest a set of matching black crew neck sweatshirts with the words ‘Cemetery Boys’ embroidered on the front in white thread. He then designs a magnet, putting a little ghost and tombstone on it. Once he’s satisfied he goes through the recycling and finds a box to put the sweatshirts in.

The next part is the most dangerous. Jack, creeps down the hall to the door that leads into the garage attached to the bunker. His eyes glimmer when he finds his target, the black 67 Impala, sitting dead center in the garage. Dean had just waxed her the day before so she was extra shiny. Jack likes when Baby is shiny, it makes the sun reflect on his face, nice and warm. He takes the magnet and carefully places it on the bumper, making sure not to scuff or scratch the shiny metal. Then in a flash, he is back in his room, laying in his bed as if nothing has happened.

Dean doesn’t notice the magnet until they are packing for a hunt the next day, a simple salt and burn case in Wisconsin. The whole family is going! Dean has even promised Jack that he will take him to Wisconsin Dells if it goes well and they will go to a place called Deer Park where he could pet and feed a bunch of deer. Jack likes animals, sometimes more than people, they’re much less complicated.

“Oh my god! My Baby is a whore! You gave her a tramp stamp?” Dean gasps, pointing to the offending ‘Cemetery Boys’ magnet on the bumper.

“You like it? I made it myself!” Jack beams with pride, hoping Dean was speechless because he was blown away by his ability to create magnets.

“Also, the term you’re looking for is sex worker. You need to be more sex positive Dean, especially for someone, who from the sound I hear coming from your room at night, seems to enjoy sex a great deal.” Jack blurts out nervously when Dean doesn’t respond. Jack tends to do that, he wishes he could stop, another part of what makes him different from most people.

“Oh, for the love of Christ. Please Jack, no.” Sam is doing something Claire told Jack is a facepalm, meaning he was either embarrassed or frustrated, perhaps both?

“Do not be ashamed of our healthy sex life, Dean. But do but ashamed of your gendered slurs and generally overdramatic demeanor. The car is unharmed, it’s a magnet.” Cas steps in, doing the teasing thing again. Jack really doesn’t understand his dads, but he’s glad they seem happy together.

“I swear one day Baby and I will drive away and leave you all behind. Traitors.” Dean threatens, this is a joke, Jack measures. Dean does that a lot, uses sarcasm and empty threats, at first they used to confuse and frighten Jack but now he just accepts it’s part of his nature. Dean is grumpy. Loveable but grumpy.

“See your theatrics are quite comical. You couldn’t leave us if you tried. Who would open the pickle jars for you, darling?” Cas smirks, Jack remembers witnessing this scene, Dean saying all the “no words” at a jar of gherkins as he struggled for a good 5 minutes, until his dad took the jar and opened it within two seconds.

“It was one time! And I swear I loosened it!” Dean glowers, clearly ashamed by the great pickle debacle of last week.

“Dads, stop. I will remove the magnet.” Jack decides it’s his job to play peacemaker, he steps up and gently takes the magnet off baby’s bumper, Dean visibly sighs in relief. Jack tries to hide his disappointment, he’d meant the sticker as a gift.

Cas notices his mood shift and is by his side, pulling Jack into a side hug. “Hey, you can put it on my truck.” He offers, rubbing Jack’s back and making him instantly feel better, must be magic dad powers Jack figures.

“Thanks dad, this is why you’re my favorite.” He says without thinking, Sam and Dean giving him matching offended expressions.

“Uh-what about me, I’m the one that sneaks you candy when Cas isn’t looking.” Sam makes a good point, he is exceptionally good at sneaking. He and Jack have so much fun together, that’s how they ended up with Miracle the dog. Sam had helped Jack smuggle him into the bunker and once both Jack and Cas had bonded with the dog, Dean couldn’t kick him out. Though Jack knows that Dean loves the dog just as much, he’s caught him slipping Miracle some of the good bacon when he thinks no one is looking.

“No Dean is the one that gives me candy. You help me pull pranks!” Jack laughs as Dean, flinches, quickly busing himself with packing all their bags in the trunk along with the weapons they’d need.

“Dean!” Cas says in his low, ‘oh no you’re in trouble,’ voice. “We’ve dicussed this, Jack’s intake of high fructose corn syrup is frighteningly high. He needs to eat real food.” He adds. Nougat is a food, Jack thinks privately, nougat might be his favorite food in fact.

“He’s a kid, he’ll be fine. Dean and I lived on that shi-stuff as kids and we turned out alright.” Sam, usually the vegetable police, surprisingly comes to Jack and Dean’s rescue, earning a matching raised brow from them both.

“Did you though?” Cas challenges, hand on his hip, sometimes dad gets sassy. Jack likes when dad gets sassy because it’s funny, makes him laugh.

“Well damn, don’t sugar coat it or anything babe.” Dean says in disbelief, opening the passenger door for Cas, Sam climbing into Baby’s backseat before Dean motions for Jack to come sit behind him. “Do I even want to know?” He sighs as he spots the box Jack is carrying.

“Well you’ve all been distracting me, I almost forgot.” Jack pauses as he opens the box and holds up the Sam sized sweatshirt. “I made us all shirts! Team shirts, we’re the Cemetery Boys!” He says proudly, shoving the shirt at Sam, then two at Cas, one for him and one for Dean. Jack pulls on his own shirt right away, stretching his arms and modeling it for them all.

“Can you all wear them for me?” Jack pulls out his trump card for this one, using the ‘look’ that Sam had taught him. He made his eyes big and kept them open just long enough so they were watering slightly, then bit his lip.

“I really screwed myself when I taught you my secrets. Really, using my own puppy eyes on me. Really short sighted of me to teach you that.” Sam sighs as he pulls on the sweatshirt, Cas doing the same.

“Nope, still not doing it. I don’t do matching shirts.” Dean holds firm, shaking his head at Cas when he holds out the sweatshirt to him as they pull out of the garage.

“Dean, the couch in the library is awfully uncomfortable. It’d be a shame if you had to sleep there.” Cas is firmly on team Cemetery Boys, pulling out the big threats to get Jack his way.

“Ugh fine, but no one can ever find out about this!” Dean groans, waiting until he’s at a stop sign at the end of the road to pull it on. Jack lights up, his team is complete, all three dads are wearing his shirt!

“It’s funny how easily emasculated you are Dean. Life is a lot more fun when you stop caring about gender expectations.” Cas smirks, Dean rolling his eyes at Cas and mimicking his know it all expression.

“Dean is sensitive, dad, and he’s really good at making pies! I think he cares less than you think he does.” Jack pauses, pleased when Dean makes eye contact with him in the rearview mirror and smiles. “Besides, I saw the pink underwear he hides when I helped with that laundry that one time.” He adds, Dean’s smile quickly disappearing, his eyes wide as he tightly gripped the steering wheel.

“Jesus Christ, kid, stop selling out all my secrets.” Dean grits between his teeth, now he is blushing. Jack knows Dean hates blushing just as much as he does.

“Oh that’s good! Can’t wait to tell Claire that one!” Sam barks out a laugh, taking his phone out of his pocket.

“You wouldn’t!” Dean hangs his head in shame when they stop for a train.

“Already did!” Sam sing songs, holding up his phone. Jack is sometimes thankful that Claire doesn’t live with them, living with your sibling seems exhausting sometimes, if Sam and Dean are any indication.

“Alright that’s enough Jack, don’t spill all the coffee. Your dad is allowed to have his secrets.” Cas intervenes, gently patting Dean’s thigh.

“Tea, dad, its spill the tea!” Jack sometimes can’t handle how out of touch his dad is. Guess that’s what happens when you’re millions of years old.

“Oh right, what’s the difference?” Cas sighs, laying his head back against the headrest as if he’s exhausted, Jack knows it’s just for dramatic effect because Cas doesn’t sleep.

“Cas, there’s big difference! One is the nectar of the gods and the other is glorified leaf water.” Dean defends, holding Cas’ hand, it’s meant to be a private gesture, but Jack can see it and it makes his heart happy.

“Tea is good.” Sam tries.

“I rest my case.” Dean counterpoints.

The case is a rough one, it turns out to be a bit more than a simple salt and burn. The ghost, a family annihilator was coming from beyond the grave to try to kill his son who had survived his attack. They had split into two groups, Dean and Cas at the cemetery burning the bones and Jack and Sam with the victim, trying to keep him safe.

“Do you think maybe we can take a photo together in our shirts?” Jack asks offhandedly as he and Sam roam the house looking for any objects that might still tether the ghost to the house.

“Why do you care so much about these shirts and taking a photo together?” Sam asks curiously, making Jack pause to think for a moment.

“Because, I’ve been watching a bunch of shows and movies, and all the families in them, they have all these photos together. They make all these memories together and they display them in their houses for everyone to see. I want that. The fact that we don’t have that makes me kind of scared, like this isn’t real. Like you all are prepared to run at a moment’s notice if I go nuclear.” Jack explains, using air quotes around the word nuclear.

“Oh. Oh. Jack, hey, it’s not like that. I guess, well we’ve been so busy saving people and hunting things, we’ve lost track of normal family things. You’re family Jack. Promise.” Sam says right away, pulling Jack into a crushing hug. Sam is strong, Jack hopes to be that strong someday.

“Can we take a photo then, a family portrait?” Jack asks hopefully.

“Family portrait? Family portrait. Shit! Jack, the family portrait!” Sam gasps, letting Jack go and looking around the room with wild eyes.

“Huh?” Jack is trying to catch up before he spots the family portrait hanging above the fireplace, both the victim and his evil departed dad in the photo. He rushes to grab it off the wall and tosses it into the fireplace. Sam pulls out a container of salt and lighter fluid, coating the portrait, then Jack tosses a match, lighting it on fire.

“Good work kid.” Sam grins as the ghost appears and then bursts into flames. “I think you’ve earned that portrait.”

True to his word, the first thing in the morning, Sam helps Jack use the laptop to find the closest portrait studio. It happens to be a JC Penney portrait studio, making Dean groan and complain about cheesy backgrounds and awkward poses that they’d likely endure. With much coaxing and further threats from Cas to relegate Dean to sleeping with Miracle on the dog bed, he agrees to the photoshoot.

Jack gets several copies of the photos made. He hands out wallet sized copies to Mary and Eileen who both coo over how adorable they look. Cas gets it framed and hangs it in the library, Dean never admits he likes it, but Jack catches him stopping to look at it every day, a proud smile on his face.

This is Jack’s family. His team. His Cemetery Boys.

#suptober21 #cemetery boys #supernatural #destiel #jack kline #jack kline pov #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #fan fiction

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stories-in-the-stars · 5 years

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With Just Enough Love

The prompt for this one was dawn/breathe.

This one is the longest one this month, it kind of got away from me. I literally had to stop myself from running away with it. This is a continuation of day 10. Enjoy!

~*~

Lance had grown up listening to fairy tales of all sorts, but he never once considered that his life might become one.

That was, aside from childish thinking and wishmaking. But Lance grew up, as everyone does eventually, and the stories became just that: stories. Entertaining, but ultimately irrelevant. Ghosts and monsters didn’t lurk under beds, or anywhere for that matter, luck was a matter of coincidence, and true love didn’t just magically fix things. No, Lance lived firmly in reality, where things made sense. Sure, he adhered to age old superstition once in a while, but that didn’t mean he really believed in any of it. There was nothing unusual that lurked in the shadows everyone so feared, as far as he was concerned.

And then a gargoyle saved his life.

The gargoyle was not initially receptive to receiving visitors of the more lively sort, even those who simply wanted to thank him for saving their life. In fact, he’d pretended to still be a statue (of the not so lively variety) when Lance returned a couple weeks later. Perhaps he’d thought that Lance would forget about him, if he could only be convinced that seeing the walking, talking gargoyle had been a figment of his rattled imagination. But Lance was not so easily swayed. He knew what he’d seen.

He shoved the gargoyle roughly, and the gargoyle, for all that he was stone, moved as easily as a human and did not take kindly to being pushed. When Lance explained that he only wanted to thank him, the gargoyle, or Keith, as Lance came to learn, scoffed and told him to go away. And Lance did. For that night, at least.

It was a few more nights before he returned, but Keith was no more receptive than he’d been when Lance came to thank him. But he was also perplexed. Lance had already thanked him, he didn’t need thanking again. Lance explained that he was simply curious. After all, how often does a person meet a living gargoyle? Keith did not seem to like the idea that he was a mere curiosity to Lance, and Lance found himself bodily tossed out of the graveyard that night, and the next few nights he went to visit.

Lance was stubborn, and persisted in pestering Keith, finding it rather diverting. He could tell that there was more to Keith than that sullen, moody persona he put up--how could there not be, he was a living gargoyle! A gargoyle that spent all his time in a graveyard no less. How edgy could one person be? And why, of all places, would Keith choose to stay in a graveyard? Certainly there were other places where a gargoyle wouldn’t be so out of place, right?

Eventually, Keith realized he wasn’t getting rid of Lance that easily, and reluctantly allowed him to stay for short visits. Lance was finally able to ask all the questions that had been burning within him, growing and blazing ever since they’d met.

“Why do you stay in a graveyard? Isn’t that a little depressing?” Lance asked one night.

Keith shrugged. “Safest place for me. I can’t move during the day, and no one ever wants to bother anything in a graveyard, much less a graveyard like this.”

“You can’t move during the day?”

“That’s what I said,” Keith huffed.

“Are you still, I don’t know, awake?” Lance continued.

“Yes, I’m still aware of everything going on. But from sunrise to sunset, I’m just another statue,” Keith explained impatiently.

“Huh. Neat.”

As time passed, Lance continued to visit Keith, whether Keith liked it or not. At first, he made it seem like he would rather Lance just went away. Still, he answered Lance’s seemingly endless questions as best he could. Lance learned that Keith didn’t need to eat or sleep, that he could actually use his stone wings to fly (Keith refused to take Lance flying before he could even ask), and most importantly, he learned that Keith had no idea how he’d come to be.

Lance’s first guess was that Keith had once been human, cursed to be a gargoyle for eternity because he’d offended a witch with his stony disposition (Keith rolled his unusually life-like eyes at the joke, but Lance was pretty proud of it). When Keith told him he couldn’t remember ever being human, Lance guessed that maybe he’d been a human who had died, and when his body was brought to this cemetery, the spirit moved from the body to this gargoyle. Keith once again reminded Lance that he couldn’t ever remember being human, to which Lance countered that perhaps having died made him forget. But that made Lance consider something.

“Hey, how do you even know your own name then? Or did you pick it up from somewhere?”

Again, Keith shrugged. “I just knew.”

Lance hummed, deep in thought. “Maybe, it really was a witch who cursed you, only she cursed you to forget everything but your name too--”

“That’s oddly specific.”

“--or maybe,” Lance started, a bit more somber. “You were just cursed so long ago that you’ve just. Forgotten.”

Keith frowned, which wasn’t a wholly unusual thing for him to do (Lance found himself thinking of ways to make the gargoyle smile).

“How could I forget an entire life?” he posed, with a touch of sadness that made Lance wish he hadn’t asked. “I mean, I remember so many things… but then, when you’re a gargoyle in a graveyard, I guess there isn’t much to remember.”

Lance didn’t press after that. Instead, he started asking about things Keith had seen in his time as a gargoyle, if he ever ventured outside the graveyard. That treated him to a rousing tale of the few times Keith had gone out on Halloween night to scare some kids. It was never often enough for him to become a local legend, but enough that he didn’t ever become too dreadfully bored. Lance also learned that, in addition to not needing to eat, Keith simply couldn’t eat at all. He’d tried once, but once it went in his mouth there was nowhere for food to go. He couldn’t even taste anything.

It was several months after they’d met that Keith started asking questions about Lance. Lance, having been all over the island and having met so many people, had plenty of things to say. He told Keith about his family, his friends, and all the (mis)adventures he’d managed to get himself into over the course of his life. He even explained how, exactly, he had come to be chased by the unsavory people that had prompted him to come to this very graveyard.

And it was several months after that that Lance realized he was in love.

He allowed himself only a few days of anguish. Certainly Keith was a gargoyle, not someone he could take on walks to the beach, not someone who could really stay by his side, but that didn’t mean Lance couldn’t love him. So he resolved to do just that, whether Keith knew it or not. The precious time he spent with Keith was doubly treasured after Lance’s life altering realization, but it was done quietly, without a word spoken by Lance of it.

One night, they had managed to run out of things to talk to, so Lance took a chance.

“Hey, Keith, I know it’s probably insensitive to ask, but if you suddenly, magically became human… what would you want to do?”

Lance expected an answer like “try some food” or “pet a dog” (Keith had once gone on for a few minutes about all the different kinds of dogs he’d seen passing by the graveyard, and how much he wanted to get closer to one). Keith, however, hummed thoughtfully, brow furrowed.

“Honestly?”

“Well, yeah. Unless it’s too personal.” Even so, Lance wanted to know.

“If I were human,” Keith started slowly. “I’d want to kiss you.”

Lance’s heart practically jumped out of his chest. That was, perhaps, the last answer he’d been expecting.

“You could kiss me now, you know,” Lance said quietly, almost a whisper.

But Keith shook his head. “No, I couldn’t, I--forget I said anything.”

He got up and returned to his perch. Dawn was approaching.

“Forget it?! Keith, I--”

“Lance, please, I shouldn’t have told you in the first place,” Keith insisted. “And you need to leave.”

Lance recognized the posture Keith was taking all too well, and not just because it was how Keith arranged himself in preparation for daylight. No, this was Keith’s “I am not going to talk anymore” posture. Almost indiscernible from his usual pose, save for the eyes. The eyes, glimmering in a way that was not very stone-like, spoke volumes. And though he knew Keith would not say anything, Lance was not going to give up.

“Keith… I know we can’t be together like other people can,” Lance began. “But that doesn’t change how I feel. And I don’t think that changes how you feel either.”

The sky was no longer a deep, midnight blue, but rather a dusty lavender. Keith’s eyes were still alight with night, but Lance didn’t have much time.

“I don’t care that you’re a gargoyle, you know. I don’t care that you’re made out of stone, or that you hang out in a graveyard.” Still, Keith said nothing. “What I do care about is you.”

“I know,” Keith finally sighed. “And maybe I’m just being selfish, but… even if I did kiss you, I wouldn’t be able to feel it.”

The words were like a knife to Lance’s heart. How could he forget?

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Keith, I--”

“Like I said, just forget it,” Keith said. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

And before Lance could say anything, the first rays of dawn streamed through the wrought iron bars of the cemetery, and Keith’s lively eyes became as stone-like as the rest of him. Just as well, Lance thought as a tear streamed down his cheek. How could he have been so insensitive? Of course Keith wouldn’t be able to feel anything if they were to kiss, or even simply hold each other. Oh, but how Lance wished that he could.

He had to leave. People were waking now, and soon enough someone would spot him in the graveyard. Perhaps, given his tears, he might be able to pass off as a mourner, though no one had been buried here recently. Still, he did not move from his spot.

It was selfish, but he still wanted to kiss Keith. He knew it was selfish. And it made his heart twist so painfully that he now leaned against Keith’s too-still form for support. Distantly he thought of fairy tales where true love’s kiss could break every spell, counter every curse. It was a desperate and silly thing, but Lance felt nothing if not desperate and silly (and perhaps a little heartbroken). It was selfish, selfish, selfish…

When Lance pressed his lips to the rough stone, he found it warmer than he’d expected. That small, perhaps insignificant detail made him hope more than he had ever dared to believe. Hope that this would work, that somehow someway, Lance’s love would be enough.

He pulled away, and looked into eyes of stone. His heart fell from the height of hope, and shattered all over again. It hadn’t worked. Of course it hadn’t. After all, what sort of love took what it wanted without care for the other person?

Lance tilted his head down, eyes shut tight against the flood of tears. His love hadn’t been enough. He was selfish and not enough and Keith deserved better than that. He deserved a life where he could be free, free to roam where he pleased, whenever he pleased, free to taste whatever food caught his fancy, free to pet any dogs that crossed his path… And free to love--

Lance gasped sharply when a warm hand covered his own, just as he was pulling away from where it rested on Keith’s cheek. He thought he’d been caught by some pitying pastor who might ask him to leave, which Lance should’ve done some time ago by now. But when he looked up, his breath caught in his throat.

For in front of him was not a stationary statue that was doomed to never feel the gentle caress of a lover or taste the sweetness of a kiss, but a human with wide eyes and a mess of inky black hair. His lips were slightly parted, and he was breathing softly. And his eyes, those gorgeous violet eyes, were alight with a liveliness that Lance had only ever seen set in stone.

“Keith?” Lance breathed, bringing his other hand up to caress the very human cheek as though to make sure this was real.

Keith smiled, disbelieving and teary-eyed could only nod, and then threw himself into Lance’s arms. They hugged each other tightly, first crying, then laughing (and then panicking when they realized they were still in a graveyard and needed to leave immediately, as they were now drawing attention). Lance wasted no time in taking Keith home, where he was given proper clothes. Keith marveled at the sensation of clothes, and Lance marveled at the warmth of Keith in his arms. They both became caught up in the wonder of kissing one another.

So, Lance thought some time after, maybe fairy tales had some merit to them. Because he and Keith? Lived happily ever after.

#klance #keith kogane #lance mcclain #fanfic #drabble #one shot #creesh.txt #yeehaw

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webspun · 3 years

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1-39 mj

WOULD YOU RATHER KNOW THE DATE OF YOUR DEATH OR THE CAUSE OF YOUR DEATH?

well, considering she’s morbid as fuck… yes. but any way it goes—three days from now or thirty years—she will go absolutely bonkers. bucket list, babes. logically she should already be crossing shit off… but she isn’t. big fat L.

IF YOU WERE FORCED TO KILL YOUR MOTHER OR YOUR FATHER, WHICH ONE WOULD YOU CHOOSE?

her dad. she hates him so fucking much, my dudes. when she pushes him to suicide >>>>>>

WHAT’S THE MOST DISTURBING THOUGHT THAT’S EVER RUN THROUGH YOUR HEAD DURING SEX?

“kill me, lol”

DO YOU LIKE THE TASTE OF BLOOD?

she thinks blood is cool as hell. but it’s gross when it’s in your mouth. she’ll keep it there, though. for the aesthetics…

WHICH SERIAL KILLER DO YOU FIND THE MOST FASCINATING?

probably aileen, why lie? #feminism …

WOULD YOU RATHER BLEED OUT OR BE SET ON FIRE?

while being set on fire sounds dope—it’d hurt, no? like, bad. and blood is cool, as established. she loves a gruesome scene.

IF YOU WERE TRAPPED ON AN ISLAND, WOULD YOU RATHER RESORT TO CANNIBALISM OR DIE OF STARVATION?

mj thinks she’s way cooler than she is. BUT A LINE MUST BE DRAWN SOMEWHERE… and it’s at cannibalism.

IF SOMEONE YOU LOVED COMMITTED A GRUESOME MURDER, WOULD YOU HELP THEM COVER IT UP?

yes. she is ride or die, my guy. nobody take advantage of that.

WOULD YOU RATHER SEE THE GHOST OF A STRANGER OR OF SOMEONE THAT YOU LOVE?

stranger, for cheesy. also who would the supposedly loved ghost be? lol… haha…

WHICH HORROR MOVIE MONSTER DO YOU THINK IS THE DEADLIEST?

does freddy krueger count as a horror movie monster? because she thinks he’s pretty neat. like aesthetically. he’s gross, personally.

WOULD YOU RATHER BE EATEN ALIVE BY WOLVES OR EAT ANOTHER HUMAN ALIVE?

both HORRIBLE options… wolves.

HOW OFTEN DO YOU THINK ABOUT DEATH?

all the time. literally. all. the. fucking time. when, how, and why… kidnapping was not a top contender but here we are.

IF YOU WERE A NECROPHILIAC, WHICH CELEBRITY WOULD YOU WANT TO DIG UP?

sid vicious. let’s not discuss.

WHAT’S THE MOST DISTURBING SONG SOMEONE COULD PLAY WHILE HAVING SEX?

to her? anything… you put some saucy eighties ballads on and mj is bolting through the door. intimacy is scary. movie-like intimacy is downright petrifying.

WOULD YOU EVER STAY THE NIGHT IN AN ABANDONED HOUSE THAT EVERYONE CLAIMS IS HAUNTED?

what makes you think she hasn’t already?

WHAT WOULD YOU DO TO DEFEND YOURSELF IF SOMEONE BROKE INTO YOUR HOUSE?

she’s homeless? but say she was still living at home… get a bat, get her dog, and hide in the closet. if rusty isn’t included in the scenario then she’d just jump out the window. #parkour

IF THERE WAS A ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE, WHICH ONE OF YOUR FRIENDS WOULD DIE FIRST?

pippa. next question.

DO YOU THINK DEATH BY DROWNING OR DEATH BY ELECTROCUTION WOULD BE MORE PAINFUL?

drowning, hands down.

IF YOU MET A VAMPIRE, WOULD YOU LET IT BITE YOU FOR ETERNAL LIFE OR WOULD YOU SHOVE A STAKE IN ITS HEART?

immortality sexy. blood sexy. vampires sexy. it’s a hells to the yes, baby.

WOULD YOU RATHER MURDER THREE INNOCENT CHILDREN OR WATCH THREE OF YOUR LOVED ONES DIE IN FRONT OF YOU?

fuck them kids.

IF ALIENS CAME TO EARTH, WOULD YOU WANT US TO WELCOME THEM OR KILL THEM?

mj is definitely an alien fucker (if the alien looks like venom) but i don’t think she’d welcome them as much as hide out until she knows they’re not looking to probe slash maim her.

IF THERE’S A HELL, DO YOU THINK YOU’RE GOING THERE?

she is catholic. yes.

WHAT’S THE MEANEST THING THAT YOU EVER HOPED HAPPENED TO SOMEONE?

mj wishes for people’s deaths on a daily basis. probably wished for slow ones for m*tch and s*ra though.

WOULD YOU RATHER EAT A CHUNK OF A HUMAN HEART OR AN ENTIRE HUMAN EYE?

eyes are gucky. heart for sure.

HAVE YOU EVER TRIED TO CONTACT A SPIRIT WITH AN OUIJA BOARD?

do you even know her? there’s no way that this bitch hasn’t rolled up to a cemetery with a ouija board in clutch. #ghostfucker

IF THE OPPORTUNITY PRESENTED ITSELF, WOULD YOU WATCH YOUR CRUSH GET UNDRESSED THROUGH THEIR WINDOW?

ask her again in 2 weeks when her crush is zach and fair is fair…

WOULD YOU RATHER HAVE SEX WITH ELDERLY PEOPLE FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE OR NEVER HAVE SEX AGAIN?

isn’t that already what she’s doing? but… naw. she’d never have sex again. the allure of the Older Man is entirely based on her first relationship and the adrenaline she gets from such stupid, idiotic situations. she doesn’t have an old person fetish.

HAVE YOU EVER MASTURBATED WHILE SOMEONE ELSE WAS IN THE ROOM WITH YOU?

pippa, i’m so sorry… jk! do pets count? jk, again. she kicks rusty out.

HAVE YOU EVER HAD THE URGE TO JUMP IN FRONT OF A CAR?

every fucking day.

IF YOU WITNESSED A MURDER, WOULD YOU GO TO THE COPS OR KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT?

ACAB…

WHAT’S THE CREEPIEST THING YOU’VE EVER DONE WHEN YOU HAD A CRUSH ON SOMEONE?

stalk them for an hour or two. don’t worry about it.

HAVE YOU EVER HAD A DREAM ABOUT DYING?

only the good ones.

HAVE YOU EVER HAD A DREAM ABOUT KILLING SOMEONE?

only the good ones.

IF YOU WERE ASKED TO FILM A NEW HORROR MOVIE, WHAT WOULD THE PLOT BE?

some really basic slasher where the final girl turns into the final boss.

HAVE YOU EVER SEEN A GHOST, A SPACESHIP, OR ANYTHING ELSE YOU COULDN’T RATIONALLY EXPLAIN?

she’s dumb not stupid.

IF YOU KILLED SOMEONE, HOW WOULD YOU GET RID OF THE BODY?

she’s literature smart, not science smart. she’d probably wind up just burying whomsoever in the woods… cover them with leaves. she’s not strong enough to move them to a secondary location, though. it’s a pickle.

IF YOU CAME BACK AS A GHOST, WHOSE LIFE WOULD YOU MAKE A LIVING HELL?

mitch. sera. mitch. sera. smitch.

WOULD YOU RATHER HAVE AN ARM HACKED OFF OR A LEG?

who is she… juli? arm.

IF YOU COULD ASK THE DEVIL A QUESTION, WHAT WOULD IT BE?

“can you slice and dice my father pretty please”

#iiiiii hated that #inbox › mp.#archive › mp.#anonymous

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krystisyaandwine · 7 years

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Soooo this happened last week! The hubz, my book bestie (Sarah from The Clever Reader), and I got to have drinks and a chat with Katharine McGee and Kendare Blake! Not only are both of these women incredibly talented New York Times bestselling authors, but they also happen to write two of my favorite book series The Thousandth Floor and Three Dark Crowns!

In Conversation with Katharine McGee and Kendare Blake

We are still absolutely giddy that we had the opportunity to have such a fun and fascinating conversation with these two incredible authors! They are both such intelligent and talented women, and getting to listen to them talk about books, writing life, etc. was a treat. We’re thrilled to get to share some of the highlights with you guys!

When asked to describe their books in five words, Katharine described The Thousandth Floor series with: Glittering, High School, Multi- POV, Futuristic, Drama. Kendare described the Three Dark Crowns series with: Triplet Queens With Power Murder.

Though Kendare doesn’t believe in endings (she says there is just a point where the author stops telling the story), she did know the last line before she ever started writing Three Dark Crowns, which is “I’m a poisoner.” In the context of the story that is just SUCH an incredible closing line. It gives us chills just thinking about it!

There is such a dynamic and captivating cast of characters in The Thousandth Floor. The character that was most challenging for Katharine to write was Rylin, because of how passive she needed to be in book one. Katharine really enjoyed writing Watt & Nadia and gets a lot of feedback from readers about how Watt’s chapters are their favorites to read, because they get two POVs in one. We couldn’t agree more!

For Kendare, Mirabella was the most challenging of the three sisters to write, but she is becoming easier to relate to as she undergoes her character ARC of self discovery and is really figuring out who she is. Arisinoe is the character Kendare most relates to, because “she is a smart ass and eats a lot.”

Katharine worked in publishing as an editor from 2010-2014 before landing her book deal for The Thousandth Floor. She worked on books like Pretty Little Liars, Gossip Girl, and The Vampire Diaries.

If Katharine could share a glass of wine with any character from her novels, she would share a glass of rosé with Calliope.

Kendare is a pantser, while Katharine is a plotter. When describing her approach to writing, Kendare said, “the story is the boss, the story takes control.” It was so neat to talk to two authors with such opposite approaches to their writing process, both of which clearly produced phenomenal results and New York Time Best Sellers!

When Katharine set out to write her novel, she wanted to write a book about the future that wasn’t post-apocalyptic. She wanted to write a book where the future was actually better than our current world. She recommends that readers interested in learning about more positive potential futures check out Kim Stanley Robinson’s take on the new utopias. Here is a YouTube video where he discusses the topic.

If Katharine could cast any character from any other novel to appear in The Thousandth Floor, she would choose either Luna Lovegood from Harry Potter, Lestat from The Vampire Lestat, or Lorek Byrnison from His Dark Materials.

Kendare was also a fan of Lorek Byrnison (clearly Sarah and I NEED to read His Dark Materials). She would also want to cast Falcor from The Neverending Story, and if she could incorporate an element from another novel into her own, she would choose the pet cemetery from Stephen King’s Pet Sematary.

The Thousandth Floor has some pretty incredible world building, with some mind-blowing tech. If Katharine could have any element of the tech in her real life, she would choose the Hyperloop Train, because she loves to travel. On this under-water train you can travel to Europe in just a couple of hours! She would also love to have self-driving cars. Kendare would like the food and high teas from The Thousandth Floor.

We also talked television shows, and what everyone’s favorite shows are to watch. Katharine’s favorites are Game of Thrones, The Crown, and The Magicians. Kendare’s favorites were Game of Thrones, Outlander, House of Cards, and The Walking Dead.

Our interview did not take place in the library as we planned, because they were closing by the time the event was over, so we had to do a last minute change in venue. These authors were incredibly good sports about it, and Kendare even told us about one of her more unique experiences during an interview. When she recorded an episode of First Draft (my favorite podcast ever from Sarah Enni), they were in a venue where people were doing Wookiee karaoke in the background. We did not know that Wookiee karaoke was a thing, but we are determined to check it out now!

Thanks so much for reading, you guys! And HUGE thanks to Katharine and Kendare for taking time out on their busy tour schedule to hang with us! Best night ever!

Enter the Giveaway

1 winner will receive a signed copy of The Dazzling Heights and One Dark Throne!

Must enter by 10/27.

U.S. only due to shipping expenses.

Have you read The Thousand Floor and Three Dark Crowns? Who are some of your favorite authors you’ve gotten to meet IRL?

Follow me online for more YA and Wine!

Q&A with Katharine McGee and Kendare Blake + Signed Book Giveaway! Soooo this happened last week! The hubz, my book bestie (Sarah from The Clever Reader), and I got to have drinks and a chat with Katharine McGee and Kendare Blake!

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