#things i can do without actually knowing anything about claire: THIS APPARENTLY

[aparticularbandit]

i don’t know what happened this was just supposed to be a short little overview headcanon thing and turned into a longer thing so i guess here you go idek what this is.

...eve and agatha settling in on the couch for one of eve’s shows (also sometimes they dancing with the stars, but agatha spends so much time griping during it) and one of claire’s campaign ads pops up.

agatha groans and wants to fast-forward through all of the commercials, but eve stops her.  no, i like hers.  they’re actually good.  sometimes they’re funny!

babe.  they’re never funny.  agatha always gets up when eve decides to leave the commercials, uses it as an excuse to get another bowl of popcorn or another bottle of mike’s (more for general vibes than actually getting buzzed; eve drinks cranberry half of the time, when agatha isn’t calling her an old lady for doing it (or stealing one just to see what they taste like), and agatha usually grabs the peach (or one of the pineapple mixes)).  when she comes back with a bottle and eve still has the governor’s campaign ad going, she leans forward on the back of the couch.  alright.  takes a sip from her bottle.  why do you like this one so much?

eve pauses and glances up.  she kind of looks like you.

agatha’s brows shoot up.  no, babe.  she looks like you.

me?  eve stares at the screen again.  she’s too thin to look like me.  and tall!  i’m not that tall.

agatha points at the screen with her bottle.  yeah, but she’s married to mr. white trash--

you don’t know that he’s trash--

--which fits better with you--

eve slaps her arm.

hey!  agatha steps back away from the couch.  you said it yourself!  ted’s trash!

eve crosses her arms, furrows her brow, absolutely refuses to look up at agatha.  he’s a good dad to his other son.

and not to brendan.  he’s trash, babe.  agatha takes another swig from her bottle.  look, do you even like her campaign?  think she’ll be a good senator?  did you even vote for her?

eve sighs.  let’s not talk about that.  she starts the ad again.

agatha groans and slips back onto the couch next to her.  i didn’t mean to offend you--

hush.  the governor is talking.

agatha scowls and reaches across to pause the commercial again.  you’re mad.  talk to me.

eve grows smaller against the couch than she already is.  i’m not trash.

i didn’t say you were, hon.  i said ted was trash.  you and ted are not the same.

but you said her being married to trash fit better with me--

it was a joke!  agatha shifts closer to eve, and eve just glances up at her.  besides, she murmurs, she’s a little old to be me, hon.  trust me.  if she were my age, i wouldn’t think she was attractive at all.

eve’s eyes narrow.  so now i’m old AND you’re attracted to our governor.  thanks.

eve.  hon.  agatha curls a loose strand of eve’s hair around her finger (the rest is in an untidy bun, high atop her head, leaving her neck very exposed, which is extremely unfair to agatha, and is honestly probably how this conversation really got started).  i only think our fair wonderful governor is attractive because she looks. like. you.

for a moment, eve doesn’t move.  she just stares at the screen, at claire’s face in that running for senate not quite smile.  it’s always so fake.  she knows it’s fake, but she likes to believe that it isn’t.  besides, if everyone always thinks the politician’s smiles are fake, what happens when they aren’t?  maybe that’s a real smile.  on claire, maybe, she’ll believe it’s a real smile.  or at least the closest she can get to under the circumstances of filming however many variations of this there are (and she’s seen quite a lot of them this year).  then she glances over to eve, bright blue eyes meeting eyes just as bright as hers.  really?

mm.  agatha brushes her thumb along eve’s neck.  she’s pretty sure, at this point, that this was intentional.  it has to be.

eve shifts so that she’s angled a little more towards her.  you’re not just saying that.

of course not, hon.  agatha leans forward, breath hot on eve’s neck.  she’s just a politician.  if you ask me, she nips at her skin, you’d be a lot better at the job.

now you’re pushing it.  eve shifts again, easy, leaning back into a more comfortable, more familiar position, with agatha’s hand still on her throat.  she bites her lower lip.  no choking.  you know i don’t like the choking.

agatha brushes her thumb across eve’s neck.  i remember.  she sucks hard enough to pull a whimper from eve’s lips and grins in spite of herself.

can we at least turn the tv off? eve asks, glance moving briefly from agatha back to the screen.  it feels like she’s staring at us.

agatha just shrugs.  let her.  she follows eve’s gaze.  we spend enough time with her campaign ads, she can spend a few minutes with us, don’t you think?

i’m not sure--  but when agatha kisses her again, eve nearly forgets, hand already moving beneath agatha’s shirt to trace her fingers along her skin.  fine, she murmurs.  i don’t care.  let her look.

the tv stays on pause, that awkward sort of politician smile and wide blue eyes staring out, unseeing, as the other two spend the next several...well, reminding each other that, actually, the governor is not at all the attractive one, and they really only have eyes for each other.

which sounds really romantic, but knowing these two, it came out in much less romantic and much more expletive terms.

#musings #bandit fic #I MEAN I GUESS THIS IS A LITTLE SHORT THING BUT IT COUNTS? #and i guess that means it should go into #agave fic #I GUESS? #eve fletcher x agatha harkness #agatha harkness x eve fletcher #agave #agatha harkness #eve fletcher #claire deballa #things i can do without actually knowing anything about claire: THIS APPARENTLY #claire baby i don't even know you and i'm sorry #what even is this #i don't know #claire i'm SO sorry #i don't even know if you deserve better i don't even know you #but i'm SORRY #claire debella #look i spelled her name wrong #SORRY FOR THAT TOO CLAIRE

[maochira]

Good day! Can I ask you please for headcanons (Neo Egoist League assistants event) about spending time with Manshine city?

Ahh yeah the only team I haven't written for in this series until now!!! Kinda a shame ngl,, also first time I include Keisuke (the older Wanima brother) in something so I'm excited!!

Requests open! - NEL assistants masterlist

Spending time with the Manshine City team!

Tags: gn!reader, just some silly goofy general headcanons, I got self-indulgent about Keisuke whoops, playing Monopoly with them is inspired by that one "I want to see him play Monopoly" (or something along those lines) post about Reo I'm sorry I don't remember who posted that

Series synopsis: You, Claire (@deerangle3) and Mao (me) are assistants in the Neo Egoist League

-the first person you became friends with was Chigiri! In the meantime, Mao somehow became friends with Keisuke in the span of two days

-so at first, you, Claire and Mao just spend time with those Chigiri and Keisuke. Kind of an odd combo, but it took until after the Manshine City vs Bastard München match until Reo and Nagi reunited and you managed to win their friendship as well

-with some miracle, Mao can translate whatever Keisuke wants to say, similarly like his brother always did. She's not as good at it, though

-actually, everyone questions how she became friends with him ad how she understands him as well??? Especially Claire is confused about it (she also makes fun of him for his eyebrows a lot)

-Nagi is the one who asks for the most assistance. A lot of times it's very minor things he could do in the span of a few minutes by himself. But it's Nagi we're talking about. He's lazy and hey, you're an assistant so that's what you're there for, right?

-Chigiri asks for assistance rather rarely, even in situations when he would need you. He just knows Nagi always gives you some extra tasks, so Chigiri doesn't want to bother you

-it started more as a joke, but one time, Chigiri joked about needing your help with brushing his hair. Despite him not meaning it seriously, you still did it and now he loves it whenever you do. He also loves it if you style his hair!

-spending time with the team often doesn't only include the players, but also Chris a lot of the time. He doesn't care about anything becoming "unprofessional", he just wants a good time with you and the players. Totally acts like a dad as well

-like sometimes, you're hanging out with the players and Chris catches you at it, then he goes "WITHOUT ME???" and joins without asking

-one night, you play Monopoly together. Because you're 8 people you play in four teams of two (you + Chigiri, Mao + Keisuke, Reo + Nagi, Chris + Claire)

-big mistake. BIG MISTAKE. It turned competitive EXTREMELY fast and even a fight between Reo and Chris started. You had to intervene because they were about to yell at each other when Chris thought Reo cheated

-in the meantime, Nagi just sat there and watched. He almost fell asleep most of the time

-there was no winner (although, both Chris and Reo are convinced their teams won) because you had to end the game earlier to avoid more arguments

-luckily, that bit of fighting didn't cause any more damage, but that's how you learned boardgames are a big no because apparently, in Blue Lock even that can become as serious as this

#bllk #bllk x reader #bllk headcanons #blue lock #blue lock x reader #blue lock headcanons #chigiri x reader #hyoma chigiri x reader #hyouma chigiri x reader #keisuke wanima #keisuke wanima x reader #nagi x reader #seishirou nagi x reader #reo x reader #reo mikage x reader #chris prince #chris prince x reader #blue lock chris prince #blue lock reo #blue lock nagi #blue lock chigiri #blue lock scenarios #bllk scenarios #bllk x you #blue lock x you

[punkxcalibur]

personal mphfpc recap since i finally finished reading all the books

spoilers for the entire mphfpc series ahead. this will mostly be me talking about the book's imperfections, because when i love a piece of media, i also love criticizing it to its core

so, i first read the books 1-4 in 2020 and i was SO obsessed!!?? i wasn't really into social media and fandom culture back then, so i didn't really have anyone to talk to about mphfpc and i remember being very sad about that. i also remember trying to make fanart of the characters, but i REALLY sucked at art back then and to this day i find old mphfpc drawings and cringe at them. maybe it's time to redraw some of those...

anyways, i read the fifth book when it first came out in germany and i kind of hated it lol. i was really rushing through it, because i couldn't wait for the fugh reunion. so i kind of missed out on the whole plot because i only cared about fiona and hugh.

basically, i recently finished rereading the books, because nostalgia or whatever and i'm kind of obsessed again. so...i'm just dumping some thoughts on the whole series here because on tumblr i can actually find ppl with mutual interests.

first of all there's literally SO MANY inconsistencies and plotholes?? what the actual fuck ransom riggs. idk how much of this is prevalent in the og books, because i mainly read the german translations, but sometimes riggs just forgets who hugh is i guess?? he mixes up his and horace's peculiarities once and at some point he is referred to as howard. who the fuck is howard. these are literally the most easiest mistakes to fix. does he not have an editor?

i'm not even gonna talk about the movie. i have a whole seperate post for it

it sometimes bothers me how only certain characters seem to serve a purpose. in every novel emma, enoch, millard and bronwyn are clearly the focus (besides jacob) despite the fact that the other characters are equally interesting and likeable. hugh, horace, claire, olive and obviously fiona are just NOT THERE for like the entirety of AMOD. are you kidding me

the entire second trilogy...is kind of a cashgrab. of course i'm happy we got more books and i liked them, but it's kind of obvious that the author simply had some pictures left and saw an opportunity to make some more profit out of them. that's not bad, but these books weren't necessary for the overall storyline.

the thing with the prophecy in DODA...the entire book was dedicated to finding the other lighteaters, but they don't really do anything in the end?? i kinda get why noor has to be the *main character*, but why introduce julius and sebbie when everything could have played out the same way without them?

julius and horace...is it really that hard to age julius down? it would've made that a lot less creepy. there is literally no reason for julius to so much older than horace. not sure if this could be considered queerbaiting, since i don't know a lot about that topic. would be grateful if anyone elaborated more on that.

hugh and fiona are still my favorite thing about these books THEY ARE PERFECT IN EVERY WAY AND DESERVED SO MANY MORE SCENES UGH. i don't need another jemma kiss i need FUGH. there is just so much potential and plus, we never really get to learn about their backstories?? like we know that they're from the 1840s, so how did they get into a loop a century later?

how was fiona able to *whisper* to hugh in DODA, she literally had her tongue cut out, hello?

so many characters with lots of potential either die or just disappear. lilly, sam, althea, peter-and-joel...ring any bells??

why is horatio kinda

ok i'm sorry

the photos are so funny sometimes, because at times there will be a photo of, say, emma and in the next book there will be another picture of her and she just looks like a different person. because,obviously, that's a photo of a different person. but apparently, ransom thinks we're too dumb to notice that.

i would just love it if there'd be storylines that focused on each character individually, because again, WASTED POTENTIAL

ricky deserved to have a comeback, i feel like this is general fandom consensus

introducing v, just to kill her off? idk man

despite all of these criticisms i just made, i fucking cherish these books

since pjo gets a new awesome reboot i think we deserve one too

i also wish the fandom was bigger but maybe it's a good thing that it's kind of niche. i don't know.

uhh i guess that was my not-so-little rant and yeah...enjoy this post i guess

#mphfpc #miss peregrine's home for peculiar children #miss peregrine book #mphfpc meta #thoughts #long post

[skye-huntress]

She’s so Cheeky for a Commoner Volume 2 Thoughts

I’m back, and incidentally, I’m still be doing I’m in Love with the Villainess content. For clarification, She’s so Cheeky for a Commoner is a spin-off series that follows Claire’s point of view of the many events early in the series. However, it is not a complete retelling of the series, it only retells certain key moments, while sprinkling in entirely new scenes, new characters and story arcs, as well as occasionally giving the perspectives of different characters. It does not serve as a substitute for the original light novels, and you should still read those first if you don’t want to be spoiled.

Anyway, this particular book only covers Chapters 4 through 6 from the original series, with Chapters 7 and 8 presumably being covered in Volume 3. Spoilers below.

Starting off, we have the Scales of Love arc. My first point of interest was how much more conscious Claire was of Rae’s change of behaviour, and yet so oblivious to the cause.

The first big change is the conversation with Loretta and Pepi about their doubts and suspicions about Manaria. To be fair, those two didn’t become actual characters until the manga fleshed them out. Interestingly, they actually asked Rae for her opinion and took her observation into careful consideration. Turns out, Loretta also had another more personal reason why she was weary of Manaria.

Follow that up with Rae nearly dying in Claire’s arms and her going off at her precious Manaria for it. She seemed harsher here than in the anime.

It makes sense that after the “breakup” the first person to truly get a chance to console Claire without any ulterior motive would be Catherine. They are roommates after all. Also, we finally get to see what Catherine looks like. She’s so adorably and sweet, it’s all the more unacceptable that the rest of her family (who will likely be the death of her) are all complete scumbags and criminals. So Catherine manages to convince Claire to patch things up with Rae, unfortunately, while this conversation was happening, Manaria was escalating things yet again.

Personally, I think the anime did the confession best. Actually, my last post was a reblog of that scene.

Okay, so Claire is being congratulated and teased by Misha, the Princes and the minions. First interesting thing, we’re establishing the Rod is already into Rae and intends to pursue her but is letting Claire have her turn, I guess. Second interesting thing, everyone assuming it is a given that Rod will snatch Rae from Claire. To be fair, it is assumed at this point that Rod will be King, and none of them could imagine that Rae has such a fundamentally different view on marriage than the rest of them.

So now we enter that very weird stage in Rae and Claire’s relationship. They’ve finally acknowledged that Rae’s feelings are genuine and are requited, but they’re not actually together-together, yet. In Claire’s case, the issue is that all her social conditioning is telling her it is always the guy to make all the moves.

Apparently, Claire can get anxious whenever Rae acts overly familiar with anybody of the opposite gender. She knows Rae is gay, and will never fall for a man, but she doesn’t want any of them getting the wrong idea and thinking they can hit on her Rae.

Okay, so Loretta is also in love with Claire. I’m not surprised that so many characters are in love with our protagonists, but I find it somewhat comical that the canonically bi one only has other women falling for her, and it’s the lesbian who happens to also attract men. Claire is such a girl magnet, she might give even Manaria a run for her money if she really tried.

Also, unsurprisingly, Pepi has fallen for Loretta. Looks like that ship still has a chance to sail.

Dole is a master strategist and he knows Claire well. Even if Rae didn’t tell him, he would know Claire has a growing interest in anything to do with Rae. He likely acted the way he did on the trip to Euclid to intentionally make Claire feel she couldn’t stay in their summer home, and make spending the night with the Taylor’s seem all the more appealing. An underhanded and effective way for Claire to get first-hand experience on what life as a commoner is really like.

One thing the original novels didn’t touch on was what Rae Taylor was like before she met Claire. I know the manga has been exploring what BC Rae was like. My impression is she was a lot like the Pope, Clarice. A very stark contrast to how the present Rae acts, it’s no wonder the minions were so confused. It is a wonder why Misha never questioned it sooner.

I feel like this whole chapter was more for Loretta and Pepi’s development. There wasn’t much going on on Claire’s part we weren’t already aware of.

One of the more interesting developments is Pepi being tutored by Misha on using siren magic. There is no way they are proposing the idea of using a magical instrument to boost Pepi’s magic without following through. Considering the potential consequences, Pepi is not likely to use it unless Loretta is in imminent danger, and the only major conflict left is the revolution, so that’s concerning.

There were hints of it earlier, but now it is confirmed we have a human trafficking conspiracy, and of course poor Catherine’s family is in the centre of it. It doesn’t even seem like they are trying too hard to hide it so it’s only a matter of time before their house of cards crumbles. The only problem with that is just like with what happened to the Aurousseau’s, typically in this world the whole family is punished for the same crimes regardless of their involvement. If Claire were to decide to take matters into her own hands, that a-hole, Clément wouldn’t hesitate to use Catherine as a human shield, figuratively and literally.

Enter everyone’s third favourite character, who apparently can never catch a break, Lily.

And now we’ve found out that Pepi’s father is part of the aforementioned conspiracy. Which means now I have to worry about her AND Catherine, AND Loretta since her fiance that her family set her up with is also in the thick of this mess. As much as Pepi is worried about her father, I say he should go to hell with the rest of them. Pepi should worry more about herself (and her future wife).

Wait, wait, wait. If even Catherine, who is viewed as less than a pawn by her family, knows about Yu, how well kept is this secret? Could Yu’s potential reign have been any more compromised? If the royal family wasn’t already screwed by Dole’s schemes, what Rae did would have been considered a huge favour to them.

As Catherine rightly points out, Claire has yet to make her own confession, which is a huge part of why her relationship with Rae is stalling.

Hold on, did we ever establish before if Lily’s alter ego had a name? Okay, I just checked and in Lambert’s part in the previous volume, he did refer to the nasked stranger as Alter. It’s been a year since I read that and the name doesn’t appear anywhere else so I’m not surprised I forgot.

I would not be surprised if Salas was using the Achard’s human trafficking operation for his supply of test subjects. Bastard was doing all sorts of human experimentation, so he had to get his victims somehow.

It took me a moment to realise where Misha’s train of thought was going, but I will grant her it makes a lot of sense for what little she knows. I actually wouldn’t have held it against her if she turned Rae in. Rae might not have either. Claire definitely would have, though.

One thing I’m glad they addressed even if it didn’t occur to me, how does Rae cast antidote magic without a wand? She’s in prison, she shouldn’t have a wand, but apparently Dole pulled some strings on the sly. Anything for his partner-in-crime/future daughter-in-law.

As for the Misaki vision, since I finished the series, I’ve actually suspected that was TAIM’s doing, since she’s pulled similar stunts before.

And as soon as Claire returns from visiting Rae, she immediately wants to declare war on Queen Riche. Which I’d be down with. That bitch got a better ending than she deserved.

Volume 3 will probably be the last. Will Pepi and Loretta get together? Will Catherine finally be freed from her family of criminals? Will the Achard’s finally get their comeuppance? And what the hell was Claire up to during the whole revolution chapter since she ditched Rae?

#i’m in love with the villainess #i'm in love with the villainess

[supersapphical]

sooo i'm not sure who first posted about claire x patience but honestly it's been rattling around in my mind ever since so a lil drabble about them would be amazing!! <3

YESSSSS Claire x Patience, let's do it!

This is a liiiiiiitle bit longer than a lil drabble because apparently I have no self control when it comes to rarepairs but please enjoy established relationship Claire/Patience on a hunt (also Missouri is alive and well).

Read on AO3 or under the cut.

“You ready for this?” Claire asks.

Claire’s hand grips Patience’s hand tightly as Patience nods resolutely. Claire’s other hand carries a duffle bag full of supplies.

“Okay, let’s do it.”

Claire leads her in through the backdoor of the house, which had clearly been broken into before. Patience raises an eyebrow.

“What? It’s an abandoned, haunted house,” Claire shrugs. “Who's gonna care if I break a few locks?”

The air inside the house is noticeably chillier than outside but, other than that, it seems like any other building that’s fallen into disuse. Dust covering the surfaces, a bit of a stuffy smell, nothing that overtly indicates a haunting. And yet, as soon as Patience steps inside, she can sense the spirit’s presence. It’s nothing she can feel, hear, smell, taste or touch. It’s simply sure knowledge that invades her brain, sending shivers down her spine for no good reason.

Claire must notice the change in her demeanor because she asks, “Your extra senses already picking something up?”

“Yeah, you’re right, there’s definitely a ghost in here,” Patience says.

“You ready to get to work?”

Patience nods. Claire gives a final squeeze to her hand before letting go so she can get to work setting up a salt circle around Patience.

“Most ghosts don’t tend to be active during the day but just in case,” she says as she dumps salt around her.

“What do you want me to look for, specifically?” Patience asks.

“Anything you can pick up on that might help me see what’s keeping the ghost here.”

“You already torched the remains?”

“Cremated,” Claire grunts as she heaves the last of the salt onto the floor.

“All set?” Patience asks.

Claire pulls two iron crow bars from her bag and hands one to Patience, “As set as we can be.”

Patience takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. She grips the crow bar more as a grounding technique than with any real intention of actually using it. She knew some basic self defense even before taking up the life of a hunter and she’s been taking more in depth hand-to-hand combat lessons with Jody but a deep psychic reading will require all of her focus.

“You should come spar with me sometime, I’ll show you how to actually use that thing,” Claire teases her lightly, indicating the completely unthreatening grip Patience has on the crow bar.

“Quiet,” Patience hushes her but it does give her some encouragement to realize she knew exactly how Claire was gesturing without even opening her eyes. She’s really starting to get good at projecting her consciousness outward.

Or perhaps she’s just gotten too familiar with Claire’s body language.

Patience shakes the very distracting thought of Claire’s body out of her head and tries to center herself again.

“It could be useful, you know, practicing some fighting techniques,” Claire continues.

“You really want me to come beat you again?”

“That wasn’t a fair fight! You cheated,” Claire huffs.

“Anticipating your movements and reacting to them is just what fighting is,” Patiences says calmly, her eyes still closed and breathing even. “That’s not cheating.”

“It is when you’re psychic,” Claire rolls her eyes.

“Do you want me to focus or not? Reading the energy in this room is taking longer than it usually does.”

“Maybe you just have to have some patience,” Claire smirks.

Patience groans, “Your dad jokes are getting worse than Dean’s.”

She says it mostly to shut Claire up and it works because Claire stands there with her mouth gaping open, clearly taken aback.

“You love my dad jokes,” Claire eventually mutters, her arms crossed and an offended look marring her face.

Patience tries to clear her mind again. She’s been honing her gift through lessons with her grandmother, Missouri, who assures her she’s been getting better but focusing her powers still takes her a tremendous amount of energy and concentration. She wishes all visions could come to her as easily as the unprompted ones do. She frequently wonders if she’ll ever be able to access her powers with complete ease, the way her grandma seems to do. Her grandmother tells her (without her ever saying her fears out loud) that it will come with time and practice. Until then, she guesses she just has to struggle through.

With another deep inhale and a slow exhale, she sends her consciousness outward, into the house. Tapping into the house’s strange energy, she follows along in her mind to every corner and cranny, searching out to see if any object in the house has sentimental meaning attached. Sentimental objects always have a different aura.

She startles a little as she bumps up against a strange energy she’s not familiar with. It’s something dark and dangerous. This must be the ghost. It’s strange, to try to connect with the energies of a house and suddenly be connected to a sentient spirit but she supposes it must work differently with dead people. When she connects with the energy of a space, she is feeling out the memories of all that has happened there. What is a ghost but a memory that can speak for itself?

She tries to unobtrusively follow the spirit’s energy, searching for its source in the house. Her consciousness moves through room after room, trying to feel out where this specific energy is strongest.

She’s feeling out a long forgotten upstairs bedroom when suddenly she’s hit with a powerful wave of desperation. Being in this room is torture, being in this room is suffocating her, being in this room is killing her. She tries to quickly retract herself from the room but she can’t, she’s stuck there and she’s being filled with feelings of despair and grief and pain that don’t belong to her.

In the room where her body stands, the atmosphere is changing. The temperature is dropping and a strange wind that seems to come from nowhere is picking up.

“Patience?” Claire asks, lifting up her crowbar so it's ready to swing.

Patience can’t answer. Her voice has been stolen from her. She can’t even nod to let Claire know she’s alright. She can see her own body in the salt circle that Claire had made for her, but everything she is is trapped in the upstairs bedroom.

A shaky apparition appears and Claire swings through it, banishing it but only for a moment before it rematerializes on the other side of the circle. Claire lunges for it, swinging, and banishes it again only for it to appear on the other side of the room.

The room downstairs becomes more and more hostile as Patience tries to escape the bedroom and bring herself back to her own body. Small debris starts circling in the wind as Claire works to keep banishing the apparition every time it appears.

“Patience! Are you alright?”

If Patience had the ability to speak, she’d only scream.

Claire is desperately fending off every attack with her crowbar as the wind picks up, howling louder and louder. Patience knows that Claire is in trouble, she’s a fighter but even she can’t fight off something undead forever. She can hear Claire struggling, fighting as hard as she can to keep up with something that doesn’t even have a living body to tire out. Logically, she knows she needs to move, to help but she’s so outside of her own body, she feels only distantly aware of the danger they both face at this moment.

“PATIENCE!”

Patience hears Claire’s frantic shouting over the sound of the roaring wind but she can’t respond. She can see in her mind’s eye that the wind is wearing away at the careful salt line keeping her safe but she’s too overwhelmed by misery and heartache to move.

Claire is wildly swinging her crowbar at any apparition that appears and Patience is no longer trying to hear she is overcome with the need to be heard. The feeling is strange, it’s such a powerful need that it fills her up until she might burst but it doesn’t feel like a part of her.

She thinks back to the breathing techniques her grandma taught her and tries to bring herself back to her physical body. It’s only doing this that she realizes that this urgent need she is feeling isn’t her own emotion, it’s the ghost’s emotions.

Tears are streaming down her face now as she finally has enough control over herself to quietly whisper to the howling wind, “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

She projects these feelings towards the being she can sense in the house, she tries to send them all of her compassion while repeating over and over again, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry this happened to you.”

She closes her eyes tight and focuses all her empathy towards the tormented spirit. The wind starts to die down, bits and chunks of debris clattering back down to the floor. The air is less chilly now, the energy less hostile. The only sound now is Claire panting for breath, still clutching her crowbar.

“I should bring you on all the ghost hunts,” Claire says breathlessly, eyes continuing to search the room for any hidden threat.

Her eyes wide open now that she’s back in her body, tears are streaming silently down her face and she can’t bring herself to answer. Claire looks over at her in the silence.

“Hey, hey,” Claire says, walking up to her. “It’s okay, we’re both okay.”

Patience gasps in deep as if it's the first breath she’s taken since she connected with the spirit. She’s trying to remember her grandma’s rules. Ground yourself, keep yourself breathing, keep yourself calm, keep yourself aware.

Claire reaches up and gently cradles Patience’s face in her hands, “Patience, are you okay?”

Patience manages to nod this time.

“Good,” Claire says softly, wiping some of Patience’s tears away with her thumbs. “Are you coming back to me?”

Patience is still unable to answer, her own heart several armies worth of battling emotions.

Claire lets her forehead fall against Patience’s. Claire takes deep, slow, deliberate breaths, her hands still tenderly cradling Patience’s face and shuffles closer until the toes of their shoes touch. Patience closes her eyes again but this time, instead of spreading her awareness out further, she narrows it to only the points where Claire is touching her. The warm place where their foreheads rest together, Claire’s hands around her face, Claire’s work boots pressed up against her own soft sneakers.

She follows Claire’s breath, matching her own breathing with it until she feels like she’s entirely back in her own body again.

“What happened here?” Patience breathes out but then almost immediately says, “No, never mind. Don’t tell me. There’s a—”

She steps abruptly away from Claire and Claire’s hands fall down to her sides, looking almost dejected in the way they hang. Patiences looks around the room helplessly, unable to believe that when she first walked in here, it had looked so ordinary to her. Now she sees it for what it really is: a prison.

Patience takes a deep breath and then says, “There’s a loose floorboard upstairs.”

“Something hidden in there?” Claire asks, still eyeing Patience carefully but willing to take the cue that Patience just wants to keep working. “Well, let’s go check it out.”

Claire takes the duffle and easily walks upstairs and to the bedroom. Patience has a much harder time forcing her physical self to cross the threshold of the bedroom but she follows Claire anyway, knowing that there will be no relief for the spirit she felt if they don’t find a way to release it.

Claire gestures to the room and Patience points to the floorboard she knows holds secrets.

“Huh, actually get to use this thing as a crowbar,” Claire says happily, prying up the floorboard with the crowbar.

Patience drops to her knees, reaching into the hole to find that the floorboard holds dozens of letters, yellowed with age.

“What happened here?” Patience asks again.

“Are you sure you really want to know?”

Patience nods.

“Daughter of a family that lived here in the early sixties, she committed suicide.”

Patience takes this information in. It feels right but also…not.

“The story goes that she went insane so the family had to keep her locked up,” Claire continues. “They kept her locked in this room so she wouldn’t hurt anyone else.”

“No, that’s not right,” Patience says and she’s not even sure where the words come from, only that she’s sure they’re true.

“That’s what all the neighbors said,” Claire says. “But most of it was just rumors, I think.”

“She loved someone and her parents didn’t approve,” Patience says, her fingers lightly tracing the letters. “They locked her away so she couldn’t run away with him. These are the only things she had with her, to give her hope.”

A breeze stirs in the room and Claire is on high alert again, tightly gripping her crowbar but Patience doesn’t feel any threat in the spirit’s action, only affirmation.

“We don’t have to burn all of them, do we?” Patience asks.

Claire’s silence speaks volumes. Patience gathers the letter to herself, holding them close, her thumbs running gently along the worn in folds.

Holding the letters tenderly, Patience quietly says to them, “You must have loved him so much. It’s not fair that you have to stay here.”

Claire bows her head, hands clasped together in front of her so tightly that Patience can see bright red splotches contrasting with too pale points where the blood hasn’t been allowed to flow to her fingers properly.

“I’m so sorry this happened to you. It isn’t right and it isn’t fair. It’s also not right for you to be trapped here even after death, so it’s time to say goodbye now,” Patience says to the letters and the house and anyone else who may be listening.

Placing them carefully on the floor, Patience looks up to Claire expectantly. Claire reaches into the duffle bag by her feet and digs out the salt and matches.

“Do you want to…?” Claire asks, offering her the materials.

“I’ll do the salt,” Patience says. She takes it from Claire and carefully spreads grains of salt on to each letter, making sure the salt passes over all the folds and creases, before gently setting them down on the floor again.

“Ready?” Claire asks.

“Ready,” Patience says quietly.

Claire strikes a match and it sounds startlingly loud in the quiet of the room. The flame burns bright and illuminates Claire’s fair face in an almost ethereal glow as she bends down to let the fire catch on the letters.

They watch in silence as the letters are reduced to ashes.

“Come on, let's get out of here,” Claire says, offering Patience her hand. Patience grabs Claire’s hand and uses it to sling Claire’s arm around herself, nestling close to Claire and snaking her own arm around Claire’s waist. It’s a little awkward, Claire a little unbalanced because of the heavy duffle in her other hand but Patience needs the reassurance, the warm body pressed to her side as confirmation that Claire is still right here with her, very much alive and reachable.

“You’re getting really good at that stuff,” Claire says.

“Yeah,” Patience says, fiddling a little with the zipper on Claire’s jacket because it’s the only thing within her reach to fiddle with.

They walk back to the car in silence, still glued to each other. Patience dreads the moment when they’ll have to separate to get into the car, even if it will be the briefest of moments before they can touch each other again.

Claire throws the duffle in the trunk while still attached to Patience but then they walk to their separate sides of the car, Claire to the driver’s seat and Patience to the passenger’s seat. After they’re settled, Patience reaches out a hand and Claire’s is there to meet her. There’s a heaviness hanging over the car as they both sit silent and still.

“Do you regret coming out here, doing all this with us?” Claire asks her suddenly.

She says the word us but Patience hears what she’s really asking. Do you regret being with me?

“No,” Patience says firmly. “It’s hard sometimes. A lot of the time, but there’s no place I’d rather be.”

Claire smiles at her and starts the car.

“Me, either,” Claire says and she throws the car into drive and points it towards home.

#clairepatience #sapphicnatural #super stuff #sorry this took so long to answer but thank you so much for sending in a prompt!! #i had a lot of fun writing this one and i hope you enjoy it!

[not-supernatural]

i don't know if i can tell when you're being serious or sarcastic apart accurately lol.

i think sam, dean and bobby all sleeping with the same woman is funny the way the show played it, but if someone dislikes it - why would it be misogynistic? Unless you think people who dislike it would be okay if they had all slept with the same guy? If anything it's probably hitting some people's incest-adjacent squick thanks to a 'transitive' feeling about sex. Brothers + father figure having sex with the same person is generally an incest-kink adjacent thing IMO, speaking as someone who likes the occasional incest-kink flavored thing (including in SPN, where I have read a couple banger Dean/Cas, Sam/Cas, John/Cas things) IRL a lot of people regardless of gender would be a bit 😬 to find out they and their sibling and their pseudo-parent have all unknowingly slept with the same person. I don't think this is one of those things where the reaction would be significantly different if it was Claire, Alex and Jody who found out they all slept with the same person at some point. Generally people feel weird about mixing sexual relationships with platonic relationships.

Anyway, it's fine to let people dislike things they dislike, without accusing them of being -ist for it. And then people won't be feel like they have to make up random reasons about why that thing is actually -ist in some way to be "allowed" to like it, because apparently you can't just dislike things just because you dislike them. And the internet fandom will be a better place for all.

lol i’m all for disliking things just because you dislike them. my post started out sincere because i couldn’t think of a non-misogynistic reason why someone found it gross (not just disliked it, found it gross) but then with the anon it turned into a joke obviously. plus if the genders were reversed i do think the reaction would be different so

#ask

[chooseruin]

Fictober day 1, belated: "I chose you."

Wolf 359, pre-canon, Jacobi and Maxwell. No plot only banter and awkward intimacy.

When he gets back from the shower, Maxwell's lying flopped across the shitty hotel bed like a kid's doll thrown from the top of a building. Face down. The angles of her arms and legs don't look comfortable, or Euclidean. According to pop culture, basically every woman in the developed world wants to be as long and narrow as Maxwell; except for Maxwell, who apparently wants to be a squished cranefly.

She's already wearing her sleep mask, so he makes a point of clomping on his way over. If she's awake with her eyes covered while someone's there, it usually means she's pretty chilled, but no one really needs to repeat the experience of startling Alana Maxwell up from drowsing. Especially not at close range. Even Kepler, when he can't actually avoid it, goes right to barking her name in that tone that hits the brain stem without passing Go, collecting two hundred dollars, or bothering to achieve consciousness before you're wearing a different shirt on the other side of the room.

Once he can be pretty confident she's oriented to him, he unwraps the towel from his neck and whips the bottoms of her feet with it. She makes a noise like a berserker Pomeranian and completely fails to kick him.

"Heh." The second kick attack doesn't come any nearer to connecting. "Classic."

"Die in a fire, stumpfucker." She contracts in on herself, reflexive, like a poked bug. Jacobi drops down next to her. "Actually, you'd be worryingly into that. Die in a flood. Die in a broken industrial freezer. Die in a Claire's."

"Now, that reminds me. Did I ever tell you about the time I contracted Yersinia pestis from a contaminated piercing gun in Accomac, Virginia?"

Mentos-and-Coke fizz of Maxwell's laughter. "Wow. New Zealand cowboy pirate. Three simultaneous bad accents that don't actually sound anything like him either individually or in aggregate. Four point eight five stars."

"Fuck you and the rhinestone unicorn you rode in on." He pokes her in the ribcage. She barely even squeaks. Must've been braced for it. "So where'd I lose the point fifteen?"

"Town name could have had more syllables. I gave you an extra zero five for scansion."

"Long story short… I wasn't dead yet." He tips an invisible hat and settles back against the headboard. Sleet dashes against the window in monotonous handfuls. One of the cracks in the shitty ceiling looks kind of like the one he skateboarded over and broke two fingers outside the school when he was ten. "Why is everything in this place kind of almost slimy?"

"They're cutting corners on soaps and detergent. It leaves a residue." Maxwell burrows discontentedly into the sheets. "Can you do my back for a minute?"

"I guess, if it'll make up for the residue."

He rests his hand between her shoulderblades. It covers an objectively unnerving percentage of her back. Like touching a hot brick wrapped in washed-to-shreds t-shirt cotton. When he pushes down, she shudders and makes a distressing noise.

"More like up underneath my shoulderblade – other shoulderblade, jackass. My left. Yeah," gasping, when he does the thing like scratching and digging in at once. "Ow, fuck. Positive. Up underneath."

Jacobi's seen the way she sits at her keyboard. He's kind of amazed she still has a back, and that's here and now with strongly recommended gym time and the ten-thousand-dollar chair she dared him to dare her to requisition. That wasn't even what made Kepler bat an eye. God knows what she was like when she was younger.

He changes the angle, up underneath, and her leg on the opposite side genuinely starts twitching. "This is like playing Minesweeper with live charges."

"Like you wouldn't do that. We should do that next year for your birthday."

"Have you thought about seeing a physio? Or, like, an exorcist?" Drags his thumb along the knife-curve of her scapula, probably way too hard, as she's opening her mouth to answer. Something in there releases unceremoniously, and she groans.

"Same thing other side – I thought about it. I chose you."

He corkscrews his thumb down, same thing, other side. Maxwell runs cold, temp-wise, but Jesus you could fry an egg on her back. "Cool. Then you also chose me laughing at you when you turn forty and you're shaped like a question mark."

"It's, like, rilly cute how you think either of us will live to see forty." She twitches, and sighs, and rolls her shoulders till they crack. "Do we have any of those weird chips left?"

#fictober22 #wolf 359 #daniel jacobi #alana maxwell #si5 #I do not know how to do a readmore on mobile any more

[taylorkellyreporting]

live-blogging is apparently something i’ll never stop doing no matter how hard i try lmfao

this right here means everything to me i don’t even care that he’s in love with claire right now if i can survive young and hungry i can survive anything

claire’s little rose cake is so cute

MY PEOPLE

e.t in a wig? 😭

“the whole thing takes place inside a closet” PLS

he saved her LIFE they’re endgame idc idc i’m believing it until it’s physically impossible

her little smile while thinking about her feelings for grant oh she’s got it bad

his little smile too? and the closed door? i know this scene probably isn’t going to be what i’m expecting but a girl can (and will) dream

“yikes! grant asked chelsea for a favor” aaand the slow burn is back on lmao

“you go first” sorry but if that were me and the thing i had to say was that i have feelings for the person i’m talking to, you bet your ass i’m going first.

ohhh the devastating realization on her face i hate it here i forgot how painful slow burns are

y’all better be writing au’s for this scene i want fics where that closed door leads to something else

“i told marley he was a little bitch, you know, flirting to get things flowing” skfjfjckcks

“easy tiger! i don’t wanna have to hose down the sofa” 😭

“the tops need bottoms, the bottoms need tops!” “they should try switching, works for me” WOAH 😭 jayden being a switch was not something i needed confirmed but good for him! good for him

they both have daddy issues lmfaooo

“oink, oink, baby!” i’m sorry???😭😭💀

chelsea and her little smile while talking about grant oh she likes him so much

yeah…

“claire is a wonderful, sweet person who deserves love” SO! DO! YOU!

“you really think i should?” oh her face i’m sick

never thought a hug between them would cause me so much pain

“and how’s your crush on grant?” i audibly gasped

solana is right, chelsea really should be single for right now. as much as i want her and grant together, she should really just go out there and have fun for a bit before committing to a relationship with anyone.

grant’s future love confession to chelsea is gonna hit so hard

there are no winners here

hoping that claire turned him down because she has feelings for someone else not because she’s scared

grant and chelsea in their pining eras except grant’s pining for claire! :) smiling :) through :) the :) pain :)

when we get a future scene where grant acts like an idiot in love with chelsea i will know peace

“thank you glaad co-chair” 😭😭

if grant ends up on the same dating app and matches with chelsea literally nothing will convince me that they aren’t endgame sorry

well. forgot that he’s a hot guy with people lined up to date him lmao

“on the one hand, kinda boho. on the other, kinda homo.” help 😭

pause! tapping into the delusional shipper side of me for a moment. did grant seem…idk. not too thrilled when chelsea was telling him about the guy she was talking to? like his facial expression’s were a bit off…

“you’re supposed to be straight-bait, not conversion therapy” the laugh i just let out please 😭

“my sister and i will each have a gin & tonic. in one glass. with two straws” oh what in the f.r.i.e.n.d.s. is going on here?

the twirl 😭😭

“houston, we have a homo” jayden really is the funniest bitch on this show argue with the wall

that “wtf?” look chelsea and grant just shared lmfao

oh i hope this continues to work out for jayden he deserves it truly

awww shit. she does have feelings for grant

kay she says one thing but her face says another. hoping this dave dude helps her move on cos they could be so cute together

just date each other

“goodnight, grant.” “goodnight, chelsea.” sjfjfjfnjd mutually pining era coming soon????

i know grant feels something for her, i know he does. his facial expressions say everything without him ever actually having to say anything

oh this opening scene means everything to me

oh jayden definitely had a glow up

their drinking game is something i’d totally play

chelsea is terrible at this 😭

chelsea immediately caving and saying she’ll play the game all because grant put his hand on her back and said it’d mean so much to him if she played??? oh she’s weak for him she’s down so bad and who can blame her

“you’ve been talking about her all day” HA!

oh his face after saying he’s just excited for chelsea to join in…my man had a feelings realization huh?

so most of this episode is going to be them running around looking for cody mail? i know it’s gonna be hilarious

his gnome? 😭

i too would break the law if grant walked up to me like that

“ramona and i were roommates but to me she was…so much more” the chelsgrant of it all

anyone: *talks*

me: how can i make this about chelsgrant?

THE GLANCE GRANT THREW AT CHELSEA AFTER CODY SAID HE FELL IN LOVE WITH RAMONA??? ENDGAME BITCHES

i hope they’re right about ramona cos i don’t think cody is gonna handle the broken heart well

YOU’RE ONE OF MY FAVORITE PEOPLE

i am on such a high right now

his mother?? 😭💀

that dance scene is comedy gold

oh that scene between jayden and jasmine was everything!! i hope the writers continue to grow their relationship throughout the series

chelsea working out with grant i’m gonna love this

not solana gaslighting jayden and claire 😭

knew she wasn’t in a cult but solana practicing law again was not something that i was expecting

her real name is alison. okay.

I COULD JUST KISS YOU RIGHT NOW

just took the sharpest intake of breath

SHUT THE FUCK UP

the writers are sick. just sick.

that opening scene made my heart stop and for what

ohhhhhhhh this hurts

my guy got rejected by both sisters i just know he’s sick

awww grant and clair had a meet cute 🥺

she most likely still has feeling for him and i’m most likely going to fling myself off a building 😃

“he’s not dead like we were hoping” fngjfjdks

“and we’re back, baby, hell yes!” why is this grandpa literally me

“this is all such a mess” you have no idea

“if i sit here any longer, i’m gonna kiss you” do it! do it! i am begging you to do it!

ohhh my girl’s so happy why does it have to end 😩

WHAT. THE. FUCKKKK!!!??!?!?!?!

well that cliffhanger is going to be all i think about for the coming future 🙃 not losing hope. like i said earlier, it’s about the slow burn. we’ll get there eventually! chelsea and grant’s dynamic and chemistry is too good to do nothing with. it’s the long con.

this show is hilarious and i truly hope it comes back for a season two bc it deserves it.

#pretty smart #netflix pretty smart #pretty smart netflix #pretty smart lb #chelsea x grant #grant x chelsea #chelsea x claire #emily osment #gregg sulkin #olivia macklin #cinthya carmona #michael hsu rosen #long post

[tibbinswrites]

Day 3 - Rainbows

They were everywhere. Plastered in shop windows, strung up across the street, at every booth and stall. It seemed like everyone they passed was rainbow-coloured in some kind of way. Clothing, bags, hair, even beards. Flags waved proudly above and around them. People were smiling, laughing, kissing, holding hands. Like Dean. He clenched on so tightly to Cas’ hand that he almost felt the bones grind beneath skin. He expected Cas to say something, but he didn’t, so Dean held on.

It was his first pride. At forty-one years old he was at an event that was full of young people who’d already figured themselves out. Sam (with glitter on his face) looked down at him with a soft expression.

“We can go, if it’s too much.” he said quietly. Whatever was showing on Dean’s face was apparently so pathetic that Sam didn’t have the heart to mock him.

It was too much, and Dean wanted to go. He wanted the quiet of the bunker, of the Dean-cave, where he understood how everything worked. There, neither Sam, Cas or Jack cared that he was broken. They loved him regardless, and Cas let Dean love him too, in a way that he hadn’t thought he was allowed to.

Jack, immediately distracted by the colours and sounds, rushed off towards the nearest stall, chatting animatedly with the… guy, girl? Person, person behind it, who had a multicoloured mohawk and a yellow, white, purple and black striped shirt. They looked briefly taken-aback at Jack’s overly-forward approach (and probably thousand questions), but responded just as eagerly. Jack was beaming. Eileen (with her own glittered face) followed him after a moment and Sam turned to look with a soft smile before turning back to Dean, his ‘whatever Dean needs’ face replacing it.

“I’m fine.” Dean lied, hoping that his shirt was thick enough to hide the sweat he could feel building down his back and under his arms. “Besides, Jody’s brood will be here soon, it’ll be good to see them.”

Sam paused for a moment but nodded. “Let me know if you need anything.”

“That’s what Cas is for.” Dean muttered.

Sam’s smile was fleeting but warm. Eileen called his name and Sam turned to see his fiancee wink at him, holding a free string of condoms. Sam flushed red and went to join her, pressing a kiss to her glittery cheek and signing something back which made her laugh.

Jack was darting from stall to stall, apparently interrogating everyone, but in such a disarming, truly curious way that nobody seemed to be taking any offence.

Cas remained by Dean, letting him crush his hand, standing stock-still barely inside the cordoned off entrance.

His mouth felt dry and he didn’t know what to say. He didn’t belong here. Everyone else looked so comfortable. There were couples everywhere, of all kinds, thruples too. There was even a string of six that all kept trading kisses and fond looks to each other. Even those on their own looked relaxed. Either waiting for friends or making new ones.

There were drag queens in the most flamboyant, ridiculous and amazing costumes. Huge feather boas, sequined everything and more glitter that Dean had ever owned (which was, admittedly, not much) on every exposed inch of skin.

“How about we go get a burger?” Cas said after a while, pointing at a food truck that looked a little quieter than most of the other, closer, places.

Realising that he’d spent a good long while lost in his own panic, not moving, he figured he should do something other than loiter by the entrance. This was Cas’ day too and he probably wanted to go enjoy himself with everyone else.

“Yeah,” he said, so, his feet feeling like lead, they made their way over to the truck and got a burger and bottle of water each. There were a couple of park benches set up nearby, so they sat there, next to each other, and ate. Letting go of Cas’ hand was more difficult than he’d expected. It had taken him months to get comfortable with the idea of holding Cas’ hand in public, weeks more to get comfortable with the practice. Cas winced as the pressure was finally released. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Cas shook his hand out before digging into his burger. Between mouthfuls, he went on, “We all convinced you to come here because we thought it would be good for you to break down some of the stigmas you’ve held for years about why you can’t be like one of these people,” he gestured around them, “but I don’t think any of us ever thought to ask if you were ready. This is clearly difficult for you. I’m sorry we pressured you into it. If you want to just sit here and wait for Claire and everyone to come before heading back to the bunker for dinner, that’s perfectly okay. None of us are going to judge you. This is a big experience and we’ll take it at your pace.”

“I love you.” Dean said immediately. That was his gut reaction to a lot of things Cas said, and if Dean had learned anything over the past year, it was that Cas always appreciated hearing it. Even now Cas’ eyes crinkled warm, and the edge of his mouth curled up.

“I love you too.”

They finished their burgers in silence and Dean, bolstered a little by Cas’ reassurance, began to really look around at what few booths he could see from where they sat. One of them was for struggles with high school, another was selling flags, another was about the history of Pride. He was curious about that one, he admitted. He didn’t know much about this community he was supposedly a part of. The kind of community that was so vastly different from the one he’d been raised in. A community that John had scoffed at, disrespected, with only Dean to hear him most of the time. But shifting his gaze from the stalls to the people, he had to admit that it was less overwhelmingly rainbow than he’d first thought. There were people in biker jackets and boots, people his age looking similarly nervous, without an angel of humanity to hold their hand. A teenager who looked close to tears carefully glanced around before darting into the high school booth. There were people on their own, some with an air of defiance, others completely comfortable, still others with a cloud of sadness over their heads; here, but with no family who could, or would, join them.

It was an odd thing to take comfort in, the pain of others in this place of joy and self-love, but this more than anything reminded him that they were all just people. People with their own struggles and burdens. People came to Pride anyway, either in defiance of everything that tried to tell them to disappear, or to find comfort in those with similar stories. He wondered how many people out there had fathers who forced them away from their family to try and ‘fix’ them; he wondered how many were in their forties and only just now ready to admit that maybe they weren’t the person their father had wanted them to be, that that person actually went against the values they’d been taught, and the ones they’d figured out for themselves. He was so used to feeling alone in this aspect of his life that it hadn’t even occurred to him that there would be others. He saw a man who must have been in his eighties holding his partner’s hand and brandishing a sign with fervour. Never too old to come out, and he couldn’t help but smile. He nudged Cas and pointed. “Guess that applies to you too, huh? And I think I’m slow. It took you millennia.”

Cas smiled at the men and then shook his head. “It took me millennia to find you,” he said pointedly. “Gender and sexuality was not something I ever thought about before. They don’t mean much to me. And it’s fascinating to see a celebration that both says ‘these things don’t define us’ and ‘these things are important’. It’s all about being comfortable with yourself and fighting for the world to learn to be comfortable with you too.”

“Kind of the meaning of pride, I suppose.”

“Whoever said that was a sin was sorely mistaken.”

“I mean, Pride of the seven deadly was a huge asshole.”

“Hubris is not the same as pride. I’ve always thought that sin should be renamed.”

“Take it up with Chuck,” Dean said with a grin which Cas returned.

“Thankfully, he has no more say in it than I do.”

“Let’s go look in that history booth.” Dean said suddenly, already standing and holding his hand out for Cas to take. Research was always the best first step after all. And if it was right next to the stall selling pink, purple and blue pins, then that was just pure coincidence.

#suptober21 #day 3 #rainbows #pride #destiel #supernatural #fanfic

[perlukafarinn]

(ao3)

The day starts out pretty unremarkable. Dean wakes up at the crack of dawn to Cas slipping out of bed for his morning jog. He pulls him down for a good-morning kiss that turns into a make-out session that turns into them trading lazy handjobs and then falling asleep in each other’s arms again. 

Their actual start to the day is around ten AM, when Cas finally gets up for his jog and Dean gets up for his cereal and a scroll through the morning news. He’s on the look for hunts, mostly out of habit since there’s been very little monster activity since Chuck went and fucked off for good. He doesn’t find anything this morning but that’s hardly a surprise. It’s been a couple of weeks since they’ve been out on a hunt and that inactivity, weirdly enough, is starting to bother him less and less. 

Cas comes back from his jog about an hour before noon and with the mildest of prodding convinces Dean to join him in the shower. Afterwards, they throw together a lunch made from yesterday’s leftovers, taking their time eating and playing footsie under the table, because that’s apparently the kind of couple they are.

Usually by this time of day, Cas would be off in the Men of Letters’ library working on translations or cataloging and Dean would be on the phone helping Garth help out young, out-of-their depth hunters or in the garage, working on one of the beautiful but sadly neglected vehicles left behind there decades ago. 

Today, both of them are seemingly feeling kind of lazy and so hardly any work gets done. It’s not until late in the afternoon that Dean feels the urge to do something productive and suggests they go out for groceries, which Cas readily agrees to. 

The ride into town is quiet. Cas plays his mixtape - the damn thing should be worn out by now and Dean should  long since be sick of it but for reasons too sappy to mention he isn’t - and they sit and listen in comfortable silence. It’s not until they pass the town hall on their way to the supermarket that Cas gets a contemplative look on his face.

“Should we get married?”

Only years of experience behind the wheel prevent Dean’s hands from twitching wildly and veering them into oncoming traffic.

“What.”

Cas looks over, frowning. “I’ve been thinking about this for a while. Is there any reason for us not to get married? We’re already planning on staying together for the rest of our lives.”

“Is there any reason-” Dean wheezes. “What the fuck, Cas? Is this your idea of a proposal?”

“Are you saying no?” Cas asks, mildly curious, as if they’re talking about the fucking weather and not getting married. “Because we don’t have to.”

Dean stares ahead, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. “Are you actually asking?”

“I suppose I am.”

“You ‘suppose’,” Dean mocks. “Gee, Cas, that’s real romantic.”

“Will you marry me?”

Dean pulls over. It’s far too sudden, probably leaving tire tracks in the concrete, and the driver behind them honks his horn loudly as he passes. Dean ignores him, taking a deep breath as he finally turns to face Cas. 

“Are you sure?”

He doesn’t really have to ask - Cas wouldn’t have brought it up if he wasn’t sure - but he needs to hear it. 

Thankfully, Cas seems to get that. “I want to marry you, Dean. Do you want to marry me?”

“Son of a bitch,” Dean breathes. “I mean - yes. Yeah, I do.”

Cas nods decisively. “Alright then. Now?”

“Now?”

It’s not exactly how Dean imagined this scenario would go (not that he - shut up) but it’s somehow the most romantic fucking thing that’s ever happened to him since Cas first told him he loved him. And hey, this time no one had to die!

They turn around, since there’s no point in going in without (forged) birth certificates. Once they get to the town hall, shortly before closing, they find out that it’s a three-day mandatory waiting period between applying for a marriage license and them actually being allowed to get married.

Cas suggests they use the interim time to pick up wedding rings. They wind up spending the next day driving to Topeka, where they find a couple of silver rings in a pawn shop. They’re tarnished but otherwise in good condition and once they get home, Dean spends the rest of the evening cleaning them while trying very hard not to think about just what they’re for.

The second day, Cas spends out back tending to his garden while Dean almost dials Sam’s number repeatedly before hanging up, torn between wanting to let his brother know that he’s getting married and not wanting to jinx it.

The third day, they head back into town. They arrive at the town hall just after it opens and it’s not until they’re standing in front of the clerk that Dean realizes they don’t have any witnesses. The clerk assures him that they don’t need one for civil ceremonies and the next ten minutes pass in a blur until Dean is being prompted to place the ring on Cas’ finger.

He does so with shaking hands, stilled only once Cas places one of his own on top and gives Dean a patient smile. He’s this calm for a reason, Dean finally realizes.

This doesn’t change anything.

Married or not, they’ve already promised themselves to each other for the rest of their lives. Til death do them part doesn’t even begin to describe it, and in sickness and in health is almost laughable at this point.

This really doesn’t change anything.

Dean’s own hand is still as Cas takes his turn, sliding the silver ring upon Dean’s finger. They say their “I do”s when prompted by the clerk, exchange a short, firm kiss, and just like that it’s over.

They’re married. 

*

When Jody invites them to dinner about a week later, they still haven’t told anyone. Sam and Eileen will be there as well as Jack and the girls - it’s a regular family reunion and the perfect chance to announce the big news to everyone.

Dean has a better idea.

“Let’s not tell anyone,” he says. “At least, not before dessert. Let’s see if they notice first.”

They’re in the Impala, about half an hour away from Jody’s place. 

Cas shoots him an amused look. “Is this because Sam claimed he always knew we’d get together when we first told him we were involved?”

“No,” Dean lies. He drums his fingers on the steering wheel, seeing Cas still giving him that look from the corner of his eye. “Fine, yes. But he didn’t know, for the record. He just likes to pretend he’s always on top of this shit.”

“He doesn’t like to admit when you’ve surprised him,” Cas agrees.

The conversation ends there but Dean’s plan is apparently agreed upon since once they arrive at Jody’s, Cas doesn’t say a word about their recent relationship upgrade. Jody doesn’t seem to notice anything different, but then Dean didn’t expect her to. She’s not the one they spend most of their time around. Neither do Donna, Alex, Claire or Kaia, none of them surprises. Patience, Dean is less sure about, but she at least doesn’t say anything. Her eyes do linger unusually long but that could mean anything.

Damn psychics.

Sam and Eileen arrive half an hour after Dean and Cas, Jack in tow. This is the real test; Sam and Dean may not spend as much time together in the past few months as they did in the years before but he’s still the person who knows Dean best and would be the most likely to notice a difference.

And yet, nothing.

Dean tries not to feel too smug.

They go through dinner without anyone mentioning it. Dean makes a point of reaching across the table as many times as he can, showing off the ring glinting on his finger. Cas must notice him doing it, judging by the fond exasperation on his face, but he’s the only one.

It isn’t until dessert that Patience breaks, patience (hah) clearly run out:

“Is no one going to mention that Dean and Castiel are wearing wedding rings?”

And all hell breaks loose.

Sam is wounded - mostly over Dean and Cas not telling him before they got married, though Dean can tell some part of it is his pride at not seeing this coming - but he’s over it soon enough, once they explain that it wasn’t a big deal, not some proper ceremony, just a quick affirmation of what they already knew.

“See if I make you Best Man at my wedding after this, jerk,” Sam tells Dean.

“Your wedding?” Eileen asks pointedly. 

Jody and Donna offer their congratulations before the conversation can get awkward, and Kaia, Alex, and Patience chime in with theirs as well. Jack looks confused at the whole proceeding, finally asking whether this means there won’t be any bouquet to catch, which only means Dean has gravely failed him in his pop culture education (oh, who’s he kidding, as if half the romcoms Jack has watched didn’t come directly from the recommended tab on Dean’s Netflix account). 

Finally, with a pointed elbow from Kaia and a hangdog expression from Cas, Claire mumbles that she’s happy for them. While Dean doesn’t doubt that’s true he also knows that this is more complicated for her than the rest of them, and for the first time he kind of feels guilty about springing this news on everyone. 

It doesn’t last long, not after Donna cheerfully raises her glass and proposes a toast to the happy couple and everyone else follows suit. They chant for them to kiss and, blushing outrageously, Dean complies, leaning over to press a quick kiss against Cas’ lips. 

“So, who proposed?” Sam asks once the hooting and hollering has calmed.

“Cas did,” Dean says, slinging an arm around his husband’s - his husband’s - shoulders. “And it was the least romantic proposal of all time, you should’ve heard him.”

Cas rolls his eyes. “If I had left it up to you, we never would have gotten married.”

“He didn’t even give me time to pick out flowers,” Dean informs Sam gravely. 

“There’s always the vow renewal,” Cas says, the casual statement managing to sound like a threat, and Dean shuts up. 

The conversation moves on, the mood noticeably cheerier. As Jack and Sam launch into a story of their most recent hunt, Dean leans against Cas.

“We could have flowers, if you want,” he mutters. 

Cas smiles at him, so bright and easy that it makes Dean’s heart stutter. He takes Dean’s hand, rubbing his thumb over the cool silver of Dean’s ring.

“That’s not necessary,” he says. “I’ve got everything I want right here.”

#deancas #destiel #spn fanfic #perlukafarinn writes #fluff #domestic #post-canon #established relationship #thank u to miriam who read through most of this #and assured me that it's plenty gay!

[chocolatecakecas]

Expect the Unexpected: dadstiel father's day ficlet

based off this anon's genius ask

They were late. Not that they actually had a strict schedule to stick to, but when it came to hunts, Claire didn't like to mess around. She did take this very seriously after all.

But the drive took longer than expected and they didn't get to the motel until around three am, and it took them longer to get out of bed this morning, which was admittedly Claire's fault. And they forgot to steam out their suits with the bathroom shower, so now they're late, in slightly wrinkled suits, speed walking through the parking lot at almost ten thirty am. And yeah maybe Claire's freaking out a bit, but what if the messy suits give them away, or what if another hunter got here already? Maybe they should run? The parking lot is empty so it's not lik-

"Hey, slow down, I don't think they bodies are going anywhere" Kaia laughed, gently grabbing Claire's hand to pull her back.

"I know, but we said we'd get there by nine thirty an-"

"Claire. The case isn't gonna disappear if we're forty five minutes later than we wanted to be. Okay?" Kaia assured, as she forced Claire to stop walking for a moment.

God why did she always have to be right?

"I know I know it's jus-okay fine" Claire sighed in defeat, but Kaia rewarded her with a quick peck on the lips, and pulled her inside.

They both flashed their badges with practiced confidence, and were easily lead to the correct room. The secretary didn't even bat an eye at their slightly wrinkled suits.

Yeah so maybe Claire was freaking out for noth-

"Agent Joel, and this is my partner Agent Cyrus"

Fuck. There's no way

(read rest under the cut)

"Clai-"

"Agents. I didn't know you were also assigned this case"

Because standing over the dead body on the examining table, was Castiel and Jack, in that ratty trench coat and a too big suit respectively.

Well, apparently another hunter did beat them to the case.

"Uh could you give us a moment to confer?" Cas asked attempting to hide his surprise, and the coroner nodded and left without a word.

"Claire! Kaia! I didn't know you guys were working the case too!" Jack started surprised, running over to give each of them a quick hug. They had met a ton of times over the past year, sometimes he even came and hung out at Jody's. And after the initial shock of Cas having a three year old who looked like he was twenty, Claire honestly liked the kid.

"Hey Jack, Cas. We didn't know you guys would be here either? I guess wires got crossed or something?" Kaia shrugged as she gave a little wave to Cas. But before Claire could say anything, Jack was tugging Kaia off to the side, talking a mile a minute about god knows what. And Cas was making his way, over to Claire.

"Hello Claire. I'm sorry I had no idea you two would be working this case. Jacks just been begging to go on another hunt, and this was the closest one to the Bunker. But we can try to find a diff-"

"Nono it's not a big deal. We can just find a different case. It wouldn't be fair, since the kid seems pretty excited about it" Claire said trying to shrug it off.

It's not like she was emotionally attached to this particular case, but it's been a while since her and Kaia had been on a hunt alone. So yeah maybe she was looking forward to it, bu-

"Well, maybe we could all work the case together? That is, if you'd want to?" Cas offered with a slightly nervous smile.

Okay so, it's not that Claire doesn't like Cas, she's seen him a lot over the years, they text and talk all the time, and he's been there for her a lot lately. Claire actually really likes the guy, but it's not like she's gonna tell him that, but it's just-Cas always treats her like she's the same naive teenager she was when they met again six years ago. And she's grown and learned a lot, she's a professional hunter now. At least Dean, and hell even Jody, gets that, they see the changes, but Cas.....

Claire glances over his shoulder to see Jack and Kaia laughing as to themselves, and she feels something pull in her chest as she quickly looks back to Cas.

Damnit.

"Uh sure, could be fun I guess? Besides we haven't seen you or the kid in the a while, but you have to explain why there's four FBI agents working this single murder case" Claire asserts, but Cas smiles brightly anyway.

"Deal" Cas agrees with a little tip of his head. God what a fucking dork, Claire thinks with a fond eyeroll.

“Also, Joel and Cyrus, really?” Claire teased as she walked over to join Kaia and Jack.

“I let Jack pick them out, and he insisted on picking our favorite singers” Cas sighed fondly, causing Claire to tip her head back in laughter.

And just like that the Coroner came back in, and they each took turns asking the routine questions, Jack with maybe too bright of a smile on his face. The guy was twenty-five, and his friends dared him to spend a night alone in this local old house that was apparently, haunted for real. And when his friends went to pick him up in the morning, they found him bleeding out in the foyer, with giant gashes all over.

So they decided to check out the house first, where Kaia and Jack both got tossed across the room by some creepy looking guy with a giant meat cleaver. Which basically confirmed Claire's theory of it being vengeful spirit, and they went back to Cas and Jack's room to research who the guy might be. So simple salt and burn.

And overall, things were actually going really great, Claire got to spend time with Kaia, plus she got to see Jack and Cas and share some laughs doing what she loves. She also got to help Cas show Jack some of the ropes, give him some hunting tips, which was awesome, since she's never gotten to be the teacher in this situation.

"Alright so tonight, why don't Kaia and I check out the house to make sure it's really gone, while Jack and Cas go find the guys grave?" Claire suggested as she stole a french fry off of Kaia's plate, who hummed in agreement

"Oh we get to burn the bones? I've only gotten to do that once before!" Jack began loudly, but quickly changed to a whisper after a warning look from Cas, they were in a crowded diner after all.

But the only one who hadn't spoken was Cas, who's face was scrunched up in thought.

"Claire I'm not sure splitting up is the best idea" Cas supplied carefully, which made Claire roll her eyes in annoyance.

God there he goes again, acting like Claire's some dumb kid. As if she hasn't handled herself just fine for years.

"C'mon Cas, me and Kaia hunt alone all the time, hell I've even done a ton of solo hunts. It'll be more effective this way, you burn the bones, and if it doesn't work we'll know immediately and figure out another way to waste the guy" Claire continued and watched as Cas looked from Jack to Kaia and back to Claire, sighing in defeat.

"Okay, but we'll all stay on the phone in case burning the bones doesn't work" Cas bargained, which Claire assumed was fair, and they all went back to eating happily.

So they split up, Claire and Kaia set up a salt line in the foyer, rock salt guns loaded and ready to go, with Cas and Jack on speaker at the cemetery. But of course, torching the bones didn't work. So now they had a pissed off, homicidal spirit chasing them with a giant meat cleaver, as Claire and Kaia raced around the house looking for the object it might be attached too while Jack and Cas yelled through the phone.

So yeah things were going pretty great actually.

Until they weren't.

"Cas I had it handled, I didn't need-"

"Claire I know, but it already sliced your arm and it was lunging right at yo-"

"But I was fine. I can take care of mys-"

"Claire, I know that-and please stop throwing your arm around you're going to reopen the wound-Claire, I was only trying to pro-"

"Well I didn't ask you to, I didn't ask you for any of this. I'm not some dumb little kid. I've been doing this for years, and I'm good at what I do, I can handle some stupid spirit. And I certainly don't need you to protect me from anything, since you did a pretty shit job of that already" Claire shouted, turning to look at him.

And when she caught sight of his wide, ashamed eyes, she felt something drop deep in her stomach, all of the fight draining out of her.

"Cas no I didn-I just-" Claire groaned running her hands through her hair, daring a glance over at Jack and Kaia who were frozen on the bed, looking at her with a hint of sympathy in their eyes. Her eyes darted back to Cas who's looked the same, except they were mostly filled with guilt.

Great. Just fucking great.

"Ya know what, I'm gonna run to the drug store-get some more bandaids. I'll be back" Claire huffed slamming the door behind her, and trudging across the motel parking lot to her car.

As she walked into the drug store, her mind was racing, rage still burning away in her stomach, and she mindlessly examined each box of bandaids.

This was stupid. The hunt was over, the guy was dead, turns out his murder weapon was the obejct they had to destroy. So it doesn't even matter anymore, but Claire's just so-

She tossed a box of bandaids back on the shelf. Maybe she should have just let Cas heal-no. Just another thing Claire thinks he needs to do for her.

And where does Cas get off trying to assume what's best for her? She can handle herself just fine, she's almost twenty four for gods sake. She's been hunting on her own for years now, and she's damn good at it, even Jody says so. She's grown and learned a lot so why can't Cas fucking just back off? And who the hell does Cas think he is, anyway? She doesn't need him to protect her, she doesn't need someone to save her, definitely not Cas of all peop-

With a huff Claire shoves another box back on the shelf, maybe a bit too aggressive and digs her palms into her eyes to ground herself.

What is she doing?

She forgave- or as close to forgiveness as you can get with this kinda thing- Cas a long time ago. She didn't wanna live with that rage and pain anymore, it was weighing her down and it fucking sucked. So she's made "peace" with it. And if she's really being honest, she really does like Cas a lot, he's like some doofy, powerful guy, who says some of the weirdest and funniest things she's ever heard. Plus, he sure as hell cares a lot, and he's tried to make it as "right", as possible and respected what Claire wanted. 

But just because Claire's made peace with it and thinks he's a good guy, doesn't mean she's not allowed to be pissed.

Claire quickly swipes a brand of bandaids and gauzes she's used before, and weaves her way through the aisles. But she catches something out of the corner of her eye that has her stopping in her tracks.

A Father's Day display.

Something drops deep in the pit of her stomach, as her heart leaps into her throat.

And she's instantly transported back to age five, with memories of homemade cards, barbeques in the backyard, and her dad with a bright smile as he carefully opened her gift. A new tie.

She feels her phone buzz in her pocket, effectively breaking her out of the trance. She quickly swipes at her eyes before reading it. 

It’s an apology from Cas.

Claire feels herself rubbing at her eyes again, the grief and pain of loss mixing with guilt and affection and confusion and anger all at once, struggling to gain dominance.

But before she can even process it all, another text come through, asking if she can grab some of Jack's favorite snacks, with way too many emojis.

And before she realizes it, a wet laugh escapes, as she squeezes the phone in her hand. She quickly glances back up at the display, a small, somber smile pulling at her lips.

And she makes a choice.

The next morning they’re all lingering in the parking lot before saying their goodbyes. Claire offered to check them all out, dragging Jack along before leaving Kaia and Cas alone.

"Here, you should be the one to give it to him" Claire says quickly stuffing a bag in Jack's hands.

"But it's from all of us?" Jack questioned, familiarly tilting his head, and Claire couldn't help but smile.

Last night Claire went back to the drugstore, now with Kaia and Jack in tow under the guise of picking up dinner. They each signed the card, even convincing Kaia to write something too. Jack even insisted on getting him one of those cheesy #1 Dad mugs, because apparently even though Cas didn't need it, he liked to drink coffee.

"Yeah I know, but you picked out the mug. So you can give it to him later" Claire assured, and quickly stalked across the parking lot with Jack in tow.

Jack can just hide it in his backpack and give it to Cas when they get home, so he can read their messages in a place where Claire is preferably, not present.

But to Claire's horror, annoyance at her own self because she should have seen this coming, Jack immediately handed Cas the gift.

"Happy Father's Day! It's from all of us, I know it's early but I thought you should open it while we're all together!" Jack declared with a bright smile, while Kaia gently found and squeezed Claire's hand. Cas just looked over at Claire and Kaia, confusion swimming in his eyes

"We all picked it up from the drugstore when we went to grab dinner last night. Thought it might be nice" Kaia answered evenly, but Claire could tell she was nervous. She knew she was worried about how Kaia fit into this fam...well whatever it was.

Cas simply nodded as he worked to recover from his initial shock, he slowly pulled out the mug first, smiling as he read it.

"I picked out the mug! But Claire put the quotes around the Dad, she said you'd think it was funny" Jack informed him, which only caused Cas to chuckle warmly as he pulled out the card.

Claire thought her heart might hammer out of her chest as she leaned into Kaia's touch. Damnit, why couldn't the kid have just waited until he was home.

"Thank you. All of you, thi-this means so much" Cas choked out, voice thick as he finished reading with a disbelieving smile. He hugged Jack first, pressing a kiss to his head.

"See, he loved it? You should talk to him" Kaia suggested in a no nonsense tone, pressing a kiss to Claire's lips before walking towards their car. Cas stopped her of course, wrapping her in a tight hug, and Kaia whispered something Claire couldn't make out, before she pulled Jack over to the other side of the lot. Claire looked at Cas, noticing his eyes were shining, and quickly looked at a rock on the ground as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

"That was very kind of you. You didn't have to do all that for me" Cas said softly as he cautiously approached Claire, leaving some space between them.

"Yeah well, I don't know. I saw the cards at the store and I thought it might be nice..." Claire trailed off, braving another glance at Cas who's eyes were a little misty. Her eyes flitted to the side to see Kaia giving her an encouraging and a nod towards Cas, before turning back to Jack.

Well, it's now or never.

"Look Cas. I'm sorry I blew up yesterday, and I appreciate your-your apology. But I don't need you to protect me, you gotta know I'm not some dumb-"

"Claire, I know. You've become an incredible hunter, I'm not worried about your hunting skills or think that you need protecting. I just worry and want to protect you because I care about you" Cas stated sincerely.

Oh.

And yeah she knows Cas cared and she knows he was only trying to help, and maybe logically she knows that Cas was't acting like that because he thought she was a some inexperienced crap hunter. But hearing it is just-

Something warm swims in her stomach, as her heart thumps against her chest, as she swallows thickly.

"Listen, about the card, I- I know you aren't him, and you'll never be him okay? So you aren't my dad and I’m not looking to replace but-but you're kinda-you've kinda been like a Da-a figure lately and I know you said you care and I appreciate-and I car-I feel lik-"Claire attempted to choke out, but the next thing she knew, she's stopping and flinging her arms around his neck, hoping it'll convey everything she wants to say.

And it must, because Cas' arms wrap tightly around her, and she finds herself grabbing the back of that ratty trench coat, smiling to herself for a moment.

When they pulled away Cas gives her a soft smile, as she quickly wipes at her eyes.

"You and Kaia should come for dinner next Friday at the bunker. Deans texted me about it six times, and I'm sure Jack would love to show you his room....if you wanted that is-of course you don't hav-"

"Yeah Cas, that actually sounds kinda nice. Haven't had a chance to bother Dean in a while, anyway" Claire shrugged with a smile, which he easily returned.

And later as Claire drove back to Jody's, one hand on the wheel, the other loosely grasping Kaia's, she found herself really looking forward to next Friday.

Tag list:

Please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed💛

@wormstacheangel @smiledean @shelikestv @bichaoticdean @midnightwings-deancas @jellydeans @sunshine-jack @archervale @wikiangela @subbydean @organicpurplepants @you-cant-spell-subtext-without @writtendevastation

@tkdwolf2012 @doemons-blog @sinnabonka @rolling-stoned-girl @skylerkernaghan @icefire149 @dakiaty @seffersonjtarship @feraldean @teamfreebees @keshetcas @jewishdeanwinchester @martymar1963 @midnight-sparks-studio @aestheticflyer26

@slipper007 @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @winchester-novak @lyonessrampant @angelic-bee-enthusiast @nguyenxtrang @idiot-on-the-hill @fandoms-and-things @doreschary @confix @itsanending @thiscowboyisbisexual @milfcodeddean @blue-eyed-cutiepatootie @smokerdean

#yes billy joel and miley cyrus what of it. #so i actually forgot i wrote most of this and then i spent a really long time debating whether or not to post it #also this is so long for like no reason so im sorry asfhakfhabd but yay claire!!!!!!!!!!! #air quotes dad mug is funny TO ME. i like to think that cas never stopped doing air quotes bc it made dean laugh #i actually had a fluffier fathers day fic but here have some angst #(​i am very dean coded so im sorry if claire is TOO much dean asdhfskfjhs) #happy fathers day to CAS<333333 #bec writes #claire novak #castiel #kaia nieves #jack kline #dadstiel #dadstiel fic #ficlet #idk how to tag this? #userzaddy #qaslight

[rainbow-shine]

the odyssey of labels, pins and acceptance

@spnprideweek's day 1: coming out/flags

Here’s the thing.

Dean didn’t exactly come out to anyone. And that wasn’t his fault, not entirely at least. After all, he spent much of his life denying the existence of that part of himself, that by the time he could finally begin to accept that what he felt wasn’t as bad as his father always wanted him to believe, well, it no longer seemed necessary to go through an experience that was aimed mainly at teenagers.

Also, Dean didn't need a label to know that he was totally and utterly in love with a man. Dean had accepted his feelings for Cas, at least on a subconscious level, long before he even began to come to terms with his sexuality.

Besides, all the people he cared about knew to some degree that he wasn’t straight (being married to an angel in a man's body hardly left any room for doubt) and he finally felt comfortable in his own skin, without having to prove anything to anyone and without having a script to follow. He had finally gotten off the hamster wheel and something as insignificant as having to label himself wasn’t going to ruin his much-deserved happiness, thank you very much.

Or so he thought until he saw those stupid pins.

Cas had texted him in the middle of his shift at the workshop complaining that he needed more seeds from a flower that grew specifically during this time of year and Dean who since their relationship began after a very epic interdimensional rescue was simply unable to deny his angel anything, ended up making a quick stop at the store after work.

And that's when he saw them.

In any other circumstance Dean probably wouldn’t have noticed them, but considering that it was june and apparently this month was important for the LGTB community, next to the checkout there were a series of pins representing the flags of the different sexual orientations. Dean watched them for a second, wondering which flag would be the one for him before forcing himself out of stupor, paying for the seeds that Cas needed and practically running towards the store's exit.

What did it matter which flag would be the one for him? It's not like at some point he has even bothered to think of a label that he feels comfortable with. Furthermore, he was no longer a teenager discovering the world for the first time and taking pride in sharing with the world who he really was. His chance for that had already passed.

But had he really pass it? Dean remembers a vague conversation he overheard of Claire and Jody about how there wasn't an age to try to figure out who you are and that it was okay to even spend years trying.

Dean had always known that he was attracted to women, with their soft curves and charming smiles. But he also had to admit that on more than one occasion he had been curious about men with strong arms, a stubble brushing against his face and a deep voice.

(Though now that he thought about it, his current thoughts regarding his attraction to men may have been biased because of Cas.)

By the time Dean arrived at the small house he shared with Cas and occasionally with Jack (the fact that your son was god is more or less as if he was studying abroad and only came home for the holidays), the subject had completely ruined his good mood and he knew he had to do something about it before Cas looked at him with his bright blue eyes full of concern and started asking questions that Dean still had no answers for.

"Here are the seeds," was the first thing Dean said when he entered the house and found Cas sitting on the couch, fully focused on a book. With an involuntary smile curving his lips, Dean approached his husband and gave him a gentle kiss on the forehead in greeting, his previous thoughts almost completely forgotten.

“Did you have a good day?” Cas asked, giving him a soft smile and tilting his head slightly in a clear invitation that Dean didn't even bother to resist, connecting their lips in a brief kiss.

"Yeah" Dean replied, kissing his husband a second time to erase the frown of concern that had taken over Cas' expression at his unconvincing response before heading up to the bathroom to take a shower and start making dinner.

Following his routine helped Dean ignore his little crisis in the store and by the time he was playfully hitting Cas with the spoon to stop his husband from stealing more pieces of cheese that were meant to melt above the pasta, the subject had been all but forgotten.

But see, Cas wasn’t only his husband, he was also his best friend and probably the person who knew him best in the whole wide world, so when they were both laying in bed, preparing to sleep until their respective alarms woke them up, Dean must have expected that the subject would resurface.

"Are you okay, Dean?" Cas asked, sounding so genuinely concerned that Dean couldn't help but lean in to capture his lips in a soft kiss. When the kiss ended, Dean spent a few seconds trying to organize his thoughts so that he could answer honestly.

"It's stupid," he decided to say, if he couldn't pretend he was okay, he would at least try to get them to ignore the subject.

"Nothing you can say is stupid," Cas murmured, placing a series of quick kisses on his face. Then, with an amused smile taking over his lips, he added: “Well, except when you say that western movies are actually good”.

“They are!”

"Whatever you say, dear".

Knowing that he probably wouldn't be able to look at Cas in the face as he made this stupid confession, Dean pulled his husband's body more firmly against him before hiding his face in the curve of Cas’ neck, breathing in the soothing scent of cotton and sunshine that was just Cas to calm down.

"I think…" Dean began, clearing his throat to force his voice to formulate the words. He had absolutely no idea why this was so difficult for him. “I think I’m bisexual".

Now, Dean had expected many reactions from Cas: from the typical "duh" as it was obvious that Dean had to be something other than straight to be in a relationship with a man, to an overwhelming and emotional reaction like the ones that he had seen on TV, or even an indifferent or confused reaction.

Dean hadn't expected this.

Cas held him tighter for a few seconds before slightly pulling away from him, cradling his face in his hands and gazing at him with the deepest adoration anyone could ever feel. Cas gave him a soft smile before leaning in to capture his lips in a tender kiss with which he seemed to want to convey all his love for him.

"Thank you," Cas said, surprising Dean even more. “Thank you for trusting me with this part of you”.

And that was it.

Dean felt like a weight that he didn’t even know he was carrying was lifted from his back and, although he would deny it to the grave, he felt his eyes water at the sudden wave of love he felt for the man in his arms.

The next time he was in the store, Dean didn't even hesitate before buying the pin of the pink, purple and blue striped flag.

#spnprideweek #dean winchester #castiel #destiel #deancas #supernatural #destiel fic #deancas fic #spn fic #my writing #rambleoncas #userstarry #this is my first fic and i don't really know what i'm doing asdfghhjl

[emotionallyits2009]

deancas fic rec list!

hello everyone! happy christmas to those who celebrate it, my gift to you is my fic rec list that i said i would make like a month ago. the only thing it is organized by is canonverse vs alternate universe. tried to cover a variety of subjects but there are in particular many fics of the genre “postcanon where cas is human and he and dean live together and slowly finally get their shit together” because i know what i’m about, son. HOPE U ENJOY. and if you wanna talk about any of them or rec me other fics please do. :) 

Canonverse:

where the weeds take root by deathbanjo, 30k, explicit “Are you happy? Y’know. Just—being here,” Dean says, gesturing to the yard with his beer bottle. “Being with—I mean, you used to fight in celestial wars and—and save the world. Now you’re growing vegetables and talking about chickens.” There are many fics set in a post-canon universe where Cas is human and he and Dean live together and slowly fall into a relationship. Imo this one is the best of the best of that genre. This was one of the first fics I read back in July when I was getting Back Into Supernatural where I was like oh fuck I’m like in this. Dean builds Cas planters and bookshelves and a chicken coop and they fight and work through it.

Cuckoo And Nest by komodobits, 10k, explicit For a long time, Castiel thought that every earthly possession other than the immediately necessary was excess to requirement. But Dean – Dean who named his car, who keeps a photograph of his mother in his wallet, some thirty-plus years after her death, who still has the crumpled ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign with a sleeping pelican emblazoned on it from the Microtel outside of Roanoke where he first kissed Castiel, clumsy and unsure, under the unsteady fluorescence of an exhausted bathroom bulb – is sentimental. It puzzles Castiel, where Dean draws the line between what is meaningful and what it is worthless. Really Gets the dynamic of Cas doesn’t think Dean wants him to stay/Dean thinks Cas will leave the first chance he gets. Also a nice example of Cas thinking he’s not wanted if he’s not useful/powerful and being told otherwise. Another all-time fave!

lonely hearts by outphastthemoat, 4.5k, gen He thinks he might give up having his own anything just to be able to step foot inside the room next door and sit on the edge of Dean’s bed instead. This one is for the CAS GIRLS who know what LONELINESS feels like.

Helionneiros by aeli_kindara, 24.2k, mature In which Dean visits his mother, and Claire takes Cas on a hunt. I’m always on the lookout for more fic with Claire and Jack. Jack doesn’t show up until the end here but the relationship between Cas and Claire is really nice.

Crawl by aeriallon, 11k, explicit It’s been almost four years since Castiel left Kansas; he'd eventually settled in an island town where he has a job, a house, and a life without the Winchesters. Every winter, Dean drives down to the coast to see him. Another fic where Cas is human but in this one he took some time for himself and got some distance from the Winchesters! He gets to be competent and weird as a human and we love that for him. I must warn you all that this fic contains one use of the phrase “making love” which would normally put me right off but it’s still worth reading. The first of a three-part series.

home where you hold me by microcomets, 1.6k, gen Cas and Dean, in the moments between their battles, ache for quiet spaces. Technically this is a coda to 10x20 but you don’t need the episode for context. Short and very sweet.

Build a Home by domesticadventures, 20.1k, teen After they save the world, Dean expects Cas to come back to the bunker with them. He doesn’t. This one is so cute it’s like what if once they were done saving the world Sam and Dean actually invited other hunters to move into the bunker with them. Obviously Dean wants that to include Cas but doesn’t know how to use his words.

the taste of gravel in the mouth by deathbanjo, 22.4k, explicit This is what Cas gave up Heaven for: greasy diner food, shitty motel rooms with even shittier cable, long car rides spent in complete silence except for the same six tapes playing over and over again, and a burnt-out husk of a man who can barely hold a conversation anymore. Angst fic! They go on a road trip and Dean is severely fucked up post-Mark of Cain.

Unknown Quantities by xylodemon, 8.6k, explicit No one ever tells Dean anything. Another nice getting-together fic.

Creature of Habit by trinityofone, 5.2k, teen The more you love someone, the more you want to kill them. Or: How Cas developed some bad habits, and Dean coped surprisingly well. This one is ancient by destiel standards (written during season 5) but it manages to nail the married couple vibes they give off in later seasons. Cas is a bitch and Dean likes him so much. <3

The (Mostly Accidental) Courtship of Dean Winchester by Tuesday, 11.2k, mature Angelic marriage rites were never intended to go quite like this. Another old one that is a lot of fun! They get Accidental Angel Married and if you don’t enjoy dumb fanfiction tropes like that I don’t know what to say to you.

Vena Amoris and Other Old-Fashioned Bullshit by pyrebi, 4k, teen In which angelic marriage bonds are apparently stupidly easy to trigger, Cas wages multidimensional war in Heaven, Dean can't catch a break like ever, Sam rather enjoys being a dick, love saves the day, and nobody consummates anything. The OTHER accidental angel marriage fic written in 2010. 

Crazy Diamonds by pantheon_of_discord, 24.8k, explicit A week ago, Dean was pulled out of Hell. Now, he’s apparently woken up in 2018, and the angel that a mere twenty-four hours beforehand had threatened to chuck him back into the pit is sleepily pouring himself coffee and wearing Dean’s second-favourite Zeppelin shirt. It all seems like a perfect happy ending, but with Hell’s scars still so fresh, Dean can’t imagine how he could have possibly gotten there. At the same time, the Dean who went to sleep in the bunker, right next to Cas, wakes up on Bobby’s couch in 2008. He’s instantly bombarded with questions by a Lilith-obsessed brother and a man who’s been dead for years, and must decide between keeping his finally-perfect life intact, and the lives he could save by re-writing history. Regardless of these choices, both Deans are trapped in the wrong decade, and their only way back lies with a Castiel still very much under Heaven’s thumb – one who might find the future Dean describes difficult to believe. Time travel is FUN. There’s an excellent part where (minor spoilers) future!Dean is like, “Guess what, asshole? You like me so much you marry me!!!!!!!!!!!” to 2008!Castiel that made me laugh out loud the first time I read it. Also just a good reminder of how most problems in life are temporary and if you could go back in time to talk to your younger self you’d be like, “Hey man. Chill out. You get through it.”

The Path of Fireflies by museaway, 63.7k, mature After his humanity is restored, Dean wakes up in bed with Castiel, a wedding ring, and no memory of the past twelve years. There’s a lot of amnesia fic and djinn fic out there were Dean wakes up ~suddenly together with Cas~ but I like this one in particular because he’s initially very confused and kind of a dick about it until he acknowledges that being with Cas makes him happy.

take the long way home by dothraki_shieldmaiden, 95k, explicit Three months ago, when Dean decided to retire, he thought his life was going to end up differently. He'd thought that he might get to have it all, Sam, Cas, Jack, and nice little place to live. Instead he gets Sam and Jack off on their Summer of Love Tour, radio silence from Cas, and a never-ending road trip consisting of himself. Still reeling from the loss of his grace, Castiel travels the country in search of hunts. Driven by a need to prove his usefulness, he pushes himself beyond all limits of endurance. Together, with the help of a few friends, a crumbling Victorian house, and a stray cat, Dean and Castiel patch themselves back together and create a home together. Do you wanna read almost one hundred thousand words of Dean and Cas having extremely intense feelings but refusing to voice them aloud? Haha of course you do that’s why you’re here. There’s also a lot about Cas adjusting to being human and being depressed about it which might resonate if you’ve ever felt weird about having a body. To be honest the author could stand to use a few more commas but there were also half a dozen moments that made me put my phone down and drag my hand slowly over my face and whisper “oh my god” to myself which is like, the ultimate measure of a good fanfiction so it gets to be on the list.

like moses and batman and james dean by saltyfeathers, 31.6k, explicit dean used to turn tricks. over a decade later, he met cas. Have you seen the fanon (apparently pioneered by Mr. Jackles “Original Deankin” Ackles himself) that Dean used to prostitute himself to feed himself and Sam when they were younger? Are you interested in exploring that concept in fanfiction? Well, this is the only fic you need. Mind the tags on this one! It’s not what I’d call happy but it’s good.

Some Assembly Required by narrow_staircases, 47k, mature It’s September of 2005, and Dean Winchester, in an attempt to outrun old mistakes and painful memories, finds himself in southern Kentucky on a wild goose chase. He’s completely certain this weird religious movement he’s “investigating” is a hoax, despite the miraculous healings people report, and he’ll be back on the road in a day or two. Things are looking up when he meets Cas, an awkward (and gorgeous) graduate student who’s actually doing honest-to-god research into the local tent revival meetings. When that research takes a weird and personal turn, Dean’s left to face two very serious realities: one, this may be a real case after all, and two, he’s fallen way harder for Cas than he should ever have let himself. Stanford-era AU of Dean trying to avoid his father and getting in over his head on a case.

Alternate universe:

And This, Your Living Kiss by opal_bullets, 57k, mature Only a very few people in the world know that the celebrated and reclusive poet Jack Allen is just Kansas mechanic Dean Winchester, a high school dropout with a few bucks to his name. Not that it matters anymore; life has left him so wrung out he never wants to pick up another pen. Until, that is, a string of coincidences leads Dean to auditing a poetry course with one Dr. Castiel Novak. The  professor is wildly intelligent, devastatingly handsome...and just so happens to be academia's foremost expert on the poetry of Jack Allen. Mundane AUs in this fandom have to be really, really good to catch my attention and this one is! It’s exactly what it says in the summary and the characterization is spot-on. 

Out to Drift by deathbanjo, 20.9k, mature Dean drives a black car with a loud engine. He lies too easily. He keeps a gun in the back of his jeans, and Castiel isn’t sure, but he wouldn’t be surprised if Dean has killed someone before. Two people in fucked-up unstable situations meeting and forming a connection. Honestly guys I really just love deathbanjo.

#fic #deancas #destiel

[magniloquent-raven]

so there's this post @draculcid made a lil while ago that i thought was fuckin ADORABLE, and i wrote a thing. that sat in my drafts for a while lol, but here is the finished product, pls enjoy

--

if asked, he honestly couldn't say how he ended up being holly wheeler's babysitter. something to do with steve mentioning to claudia, who mentioned to karen, that billy has a lot of free time lately, and the next thing he knows he's being cornered at melvald's and strong-armed into spending afternoons with the least bratty wheeler child.

ever since she got her new job and apartment and shit, she's needed someone to pick holly up from school, and apparently billy counts as a qualified adult.

the couple hours he has to spend watching the kid aren't awful, holly's alright, but the five minutes of small talk when mrs.wheeler gets back is always awkward as hell. she tries painfully hard to be polite and he hates it.

but he needs the money. it was either this or waiting tables at the 24hr diner, and, shockingly, he's actually more qualified for the babysitting gig.

maybe he's not dad material or anything, but he manages. he had fun bossing the aqua tots around last summer, while it lasted. the young ones are easier to deal with.

though it's truly exhausting sometimes. on the days when his scars ache and it's more noticeable than ever that he isn't as strong as he used to be because he has to keep putting holly down even though he promised her a piggy-back ride.

but on those days he calls steve, because steve is a goddamn blessing.

steve always has pizza money and he lets holly put glittery clips in his hair—something billy doesn't do anymore, not after she got one tangled so deep in his curls he had to go home with it still in there—and he's a good sport when she wants to play pretend.

today she wanted to play house. billy's not entirely sure what that means but it's keeping the kid happy and steve looks ridiculously adorable in the stupid apron she made him wear, so.

billy though, billy likes to think he still has some dignity left, so he's busying himself cleaning up the mess of lego on the living room floor while steve makes an invisible sandwich for holly.

but then holly says, in her quiet little voice, "is daddy coming home now?" and billy pauses, stops with his hand hovering awkwardly in midair and his heart hammering.

he glances at her out of the corner of his eye. awkward conversations about the fact that her mom and dad are divorced now, and what that all means, are definitely not supposed to be part of his babysitting duties.

how would that conversation even go? he's pretty sure she knows about the separation, she has to, she moved away without her dad, they had to have told her something, but—

"i think she means you, big guy," steve supplies, with barely contained amusement.

ah. right. playing house.

he mentally shakes himself, and drops the lego bin on the coffee table before shuffling over to join steve and holly by the little plastic kitchen set. steve is smirking at him, way to smug for the guy who's wearing a frilly apron.

billy plops on the carpet next to steve. "honey, i'm home," he says dryly.

it takes about fifteen minutes for him to completely forget about feeling weird about it all.

in fact, it's disturbingly easy to slip into his role, making moon-eyes at steve and pretending it's because he's acting. he's been careless lately. letting his feelings get all over the place. he never was that subtle around steve, but the weird domesticity of babysitting a kid together gets in his head.

like when steve pokes fun at his make-belief dish washing skills and it's somehow not embarrassing. and it just does things to billy's stupid heart because it doesn't realize they aren't actually married.

"shut up," billy mutters, softly, too soft, warm and not at all threatening. he should feel off-balance but he doesn't.

"is that any way to talk to your wife?" steve can barely say it without grinning.

his big dumb sunshine-y grin is probably what fried billy's brain enough for him to respond with, "aw, sorry, baby," a little too sweetly to be serious, and then—

it's over before he even realizes what he's doing. and he's left sitting there, leaning into steve's space, looking into steve's eyes, wide with shock, searching billy's face, still inches away because steve hasn't moved or reacted or...

"claire from art class says boys aren't supposed to kiss each other," holly whispers.

billy jerks backward, ending up a foot further from steve than he was before, trying to pretend his heart isn't racing and he isn't struggling to breathe, and his goddamn lips aren't tingling with the phantom sensation of steve's mouth pressed to his, breath mingling, a soft sound just...

he curls his fingers into the carpet at his sides and stares, unseeing, at a stain on the knee of his jeans.

before he can even fathom saying a damn word, steve cuts in with a vehement, "claire from art class is full of shit," and billy startles, turning to look at him. there's a set to his jaw and a spark of something in his eye, determined and steady despite the flush on his cheeks.

it's a really inconvenient moment for billy to get distracted by how fucking gorgeous steve is.

holly lets out a nervous giggle. "steeve...that's a swear."

"ah, fu—uhh...um. right." steve pushes his bangs away from his face and sighs. a couple locks stick out awkwardly when his hand falls away, and it makes billy's fingers itch. "listen, holly. it's not nice to tell people they aren't allowed to love someone—"

"you and billy are in love?" she gasps, her eyes huge and round, flicking between the two of them.

steve turns impossibly pinker, mouth opening and closing silently. billy's heart leaps.

he bites his lip, holding back a smile and trying to stamp down on the bubbling, hopeful warmth in his chest. he needs to do something. right now. something other than stare at steve. he runs a hand down his face, blows out a breath, and tries to get his shit together.

"alright, holly, steve here is gonna make us some hot chocolate, with extra marshmallows, and you are gonna forget this ever happened, deal?"

she glances between billy and steve with a furrowed brow. "and a piggyback ride?"

billy snorts. "sure, kid, whatever you want."

she grins, suddenly, and nods. "okay."

"billy, you sure you're feeling up to that?" steve murmurs. when billy turns to look at him he's a lot closer than expected. his breath catches, the irritated retort on the tip of his tongue evaporates.

"yeah, i..." his gaze wanders down a little, touching, briefly, on steve's mouth before he snaps his eyes back upward. "i'm fine."

steve's hand inches towards his on the carpet between them, fingertips brushing billy's knuckles. holly's staring at them, billy can see her out of the corner of his eye. the scrutiny is setting his teeth on edge but he doesn't pull away. "just. don't push yourself, okay?"

billy scoffs. "yeah, yeah."

and then steve kisses his cheek.

fucking. kisses his cheek.

he doesn't linger, he's sauntering off to the kitchen before billy can even fucking blink. it's brief enough that billy wonders if he imagined the sudden warm pressure of steve's lips against his skin, the way steve's eyes were all lit up and fond and just that little bit defiant, like he was daring billy to say something about it.

they'll talk about it, he's sure. later. billy's a horrifying mix of ecstatic and absolutely terrified. he's shit at talking about his feelings, and so is steve. it's going to be a goddamn shitshow, but...

but still. he has a good feeling about it.

holly's even quieter than usual when she scoots over to sit next to billy, "you love steve?"

"thought we were gonna forget about that, wheeler." he glances down at her. there's nothing but innocent curiosity on her face. he sighs. bites his lip. "...yeah. yeah i do."

#harringrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove #holly wheeler #stranger things #a raven's writing desk #saw someone's anon trash talking the idea of billy and steve babysitting holly #on my dash today #so i may or may not have finished this ficlet out of spite

[scapegrace74-blog]

New Ways of Turning into Stone, Chapter 6

A/N Where does the time go?  I lugged my laptop 7,000km round trip with the sole intention of working on this fic, but that apparently didn’t happen.  For those who found the last chapter hard to bear, I apologize in advance.  I am not quite finished being cruel.  With that said, trigger warning for character death, childhood disease, suicide ideation.  The chapter title is Sleeping in the Clouds.

The first five chapters are available on my AO3 page.

Five Months Later

A persistent mechanical bleating lifted Claire from the indeterminate depths of medicated sleep.  The emergency contact number she provided to all her patients was programmed to forward to her mobile, where a particularly aggravating ringtone ensured she would never miss a call.  Even at one am on a Tuesday night.

Fumbling for the device, she glanced at the unfamiliar number before answering.

“Doctor Beauchamp speaking.”  Her voice was gritty and rough.  She reached for a half-filled tumbler of water while waiting for the caller to identify themselves.  Over the line she could make out muted traffic noise, and perhaps a distant foghorn, but no-one spoke.

“Hello?” she inquired, torn between concern that a patient needed her and frustration that she might have been woken by a misdialed number.

“If you’re one of my patients, you need to talk to me so that I can help you.”

There was an intake of breath, a weepy sniffle, and then the click of the call being terminated.  A prickle of gooseflesh washed over her.  She couldn’t say exactly how, but she knew who had called, and that he needed her.

One of the grim perks of her job was that she had backdoor access to reverse look-up for telephone numbers, in cases where there was a threat of self-harm or harm to others.  As Claire hastily donned socks and grabbed a winter coat, she waited on hold for the PSAP operator to provide an address.

“We’re in luck, Doctor Beauchamp.  It wasna a mobile number.  In fact, tis a telephone booth.  Gote Lane, in Queensferry.  Down near the... umm, next tae the bridge.”

Without so much as a thank you, she hung up and frantically punched the app for an Uber.

Fifteen nail biting minutes and an excessive tip later, she stood in front of an empty phone booth.  Predictably, the directory had been torn out, leaving only a thin metal cord and car-key graffiti inside the cramped interior.  But on top of the phone itself she found a familiar ecru business card, her name and credentials embossed in black font.

“Damn it, Jamie,” she muttered to herself, palming the card.

If he’d hung up and started walking towards the bridge, she might be able to catch him if she ran all out, but something called her towards the nearby shore instead.

The tide was out, leaving a narrow strip of beach and sharp, slimy rocks exposed to the heavy air.  Her nostrils were assaulted by the briny vegetative rot of the retreating sea.

On a weathered bench facing the river, encircled by a cone of foggy streetlight, sat a man, his eyes trained on the smudgy lights of the Queensferry bridge hovering high above.  Even bundled in a heavy black jacket and watch cap, she would recognize his long limbs and the set of his shoulders anywhere.  She let out a long breath of relief.

She approached the bench cautiously, not certain if her presence would be welcome.  Instead of turning to greet her footsteps, Jamie addressed the bridge.

“Maggie passed t’day.  I called ‘cause I wanted ye tae know, but then I couldna find the words tae tell ye.”  Despite his refusal to look at her, his words were calm and without a hint of the bitterness she’d expected.

“Oh, Jamie.  I’m so terribly sorry.  I didn’t know her well, but she was a very special little girl who loved you dearly.”

He nodded in acknowledgement of her words, but didn’t reply.  She shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, suddenly aware that she was still wearing her pajamas, her hair doubtless a veritable cumulus of tangled curls.

“Is there anything I can do?” she asked.  “I still have some contacts at the hospital, I could...” she broke off, knowing it was ridiculous to offer professional assistance when she’d been the one to sever their relationship.

“Would ye, if it’s no’ too much tae ask, would ye mind jus’ sittin’ here with me fer a bit?”

He finally turned to look at her, and she could see the spider web of red veins that surrounded his irises, testimony to his heartbreak.  His mouth, usually such an accurate barometer of his mood, was strangely inert.  She nodded, unable to deny him such a simple request.

It was the time of night when the daytime symphony of the city broke into its component parts, every passing car, every lapping wave a single instrument singing its own plaintive song.  They sat in silence for long enough that she could feel the damp creeping up the legs of her pajamas.

“Maggie loved tae cross that bridge,” Jamie said at last.  “She’d lower her window, rain or shine, and stick her wee arm out, sayin’ it felt like she was flyin’.”

Claire smiled at the image, trying to picture the little girl with the giant imagination.

“What colour was her hair, Jamie?” she asked.  “Was it red, like yours?”

“Nah, dark, like Jenny’s and our Da.  But wi’ curls like mine and my Ma’s.  A little like yours, actually, Sassenach.  That is, before the chemo took it away.”

She grimaced, not knowing what topic to choose that wouldn’t lead Jamie on a path directly back to his grief.

“She fought sae hard,” he continued before she could attempt another distraction, “but the cancer wouldna let her win.”  Tears were rolling down his cheeks, glinting in the sodium light like stars, but he didn’t seem to notice or care.  “She was the best person I knew.  Sounds strange tae say of a wee lass, but she truly was.  An’ it made me a better person tae love her.  What the fuck am I gonna do now?”

Jamie was looking straight at her, as though he truly expected her to offer useful guidance.  All her training, her professional distance, fell away in the face of one broken man.  She swallowed, searching for words that weren’t a platitude.

“You’re going to go on living, because she can’t.  Because your happiness, when you are ready to feel it again, will be a gift to her memory.”

Jamie sniffed, then wiped his sleeve across his face.  He placed his hand on the bench between them.  Without allowing herself to think, Claire reached for it, finding his skin surprisingly warm.  There was an agonizing fermata, when all the instruments held their breath, and then he turned his palm upwards to meet her own.  Beneath the fog the river slipped by, blending endlessly into the sea.

"Look, Jamie, I know it’s not the right time, but I want to tell you that I’m sorry.  For the way I treated you, and ended things, and...”

“Nay, Sassenach, it’s me who should apologize.  I had no right tae throw my diagnosis at ye like some kinda weapon.  An’ when I think of how I heedlessly brought up yer becoming a mother.  I, of all people.  Weel, suffice it tae say I’ve spent many an hour regretin’ my words an’ actions.”

She squeezed his hand, wordlessly declaring them equal in remorse.

“How have ye been?” he inquired, peering at her as though trying to read her state of mind on the planes of her face.  She chuckled, looking away when the intensity of his gaze became too much.

“About the same, I suppose.  Better some days than others.  Geillis has started ordering my lunches for me, so I no longer have any excuse not to eat.”  Jamie nodded, seemingly pleased with this news.

“And you?  Are you still seeing Dr. Rafferty?  I... uhh, I know his office requested your file.”

In fact, Giles Rafferty had called her the week after her confrontation with Jamie, wondering why his new patient’s record of treatment contained no more than his biographical details and the time and date of each of his appointments.  She told him the same thing she’d told Geillis when she asked the same question in significantly cruder terms: that her weekly interactions with Jamie had never led to a professional diagnosis or a recommended course of treatment.

“Aye. He’s a good man, although tragically immune tae my charms.  Unlike some.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Fraser,” she warned, although his rakish grin warmed her from the inside out.

“I’ll be darkening his doorway wi’ some frequency, after t’day,” he continued with a return to solemnity.

And yet you called me, Claire wanted to say, but didn’t.  When his beloved niece had slipped away, hers had been the number he had dialed, despite everything.  The very idea made her thoughts flit about like fireflies.

“I missed ye, Sassenach,” he confessed quietly after a time.

“I missed you too, Jamie.”

They sat together through the thin hours of the night, talking, sharing memories of Maggie, but mostly in silent companionship.  As dawn brightened the eastern sky, the fog began to lift, revealing an overcast sky.  The lights of the bridge blinked out, and the city’s music began anew.  Claire wished futilely that day would never break, knowing that it would bring them both the pain of two very different kinds of goodbye.

Her hand, when Jamie finally let it go, felt strange, as though it had been separated from its source.  She tucked it quickly into her pocket.

“I.. errr, I need tae be goin’,” Jamie said by way of apology.  “Ian and Jenn will be needin’ me.”

“Yes, of course.  I’ll just, um, call myself an Uber.”

They were both standing, neither seemingly knowing how to part.

Jamie opened his mouth, paused, shook his head in frustration, then looked away.  Her traitorous hand escaped her pocket and found its way to his chest.

“I’ll be thinking of you.  All of you.  If there’s anything, anything at all..”

“How long until your no’ my doctor anymore?  Ethically speakin’.”  He was looking at her in a way that made the fireflies whirlpool about.

“What?” she asked to buy herself some time to breath.

“Before I go an’ face everything that is wrong about t’day, I want tae ken, how long must I wait before I can kiss ye again wi’out riskin’ yer reputation?”

“There’s no written timetable,” she stalled.  “It’s a question of a doctor exerting undue influence or the exploitation of the patient’s trust, and there’s really...”

“Those rules are meant tae protect the patient, aye?  So I should be allowed tae waive them, no’?”

“Jamie...”

“Fine, let me rephrase my question.  Doctor Claire Beauchamp, when can I, James Fraser, ask ye tae look upon me as a potential suitor and no’ a former patient?  Six months?  A year?  Two years?”

“You really are the most infuriatingly stubborn man,” she huffed.

“Aye, I ken.  Sae, two years?  Do we have an agreement, Sassenach?”

“Fine, yes, two years, but Jamie, I don’t expect you to...”

A finger was placed across her lips, silencing her protests.

“Two years are naught if I can kiss ye again once they have passed.  Until then, Claire, please take care of yerself.”

She stood by the bench long after Jamie was gone, staring out across the river.  A flock of geese flew by in formation, broad wings nearly touching the surface of the water as it reflected the steel gray clouds above.  She thought of little Maggie, and her birdhouse surrounded by clouds.  A sob wrestled its way up her throat, surprising in its urgency.  And then, she allowed herself to cry.

#my writing #outlander

[tg-headcanons]

Do you think Ayato and Juuzou can be friends?

They would be BROS

They would officially meet after decriminalization has been passed. Tensions are high, humans don’t want to work with ghouls, ghouls don’t want to work with humans. Ayato is tagging along with the Anteiku gang since technically schools haven’t started allowing ghouls in yet, and he does know how to kick ass when need be. Everyone at the CCG is very uncomfortable with the Child Who Can Kill All Of Them If He Wants so of course they keep bringing him, Touka and Nishiki like seeing them squirm

He knows about Juuzou. Everyone does. No human fights like that, like a ghoul without kagune. He was a horror story among Aogiri, a bogeyman dressed like a Claire’s dumpster. Ayato obviously wants to make it clear to this dude (who he’s totally not terrified of) that he’s not scared of him and could take him in a fight, so he weird his kagune back at him in a threat, but Juuzou just comments on how cool they are. They look like wings!

Ayato has no idea to respond. Humans never think they look cool, they’re threatening! This is a THREAT! But this fucking Honorary Whiteboy doesn’t seem at all afraid. In fact, he sort of follows him around to figure out Why He’s Like That, and he slowly pieces it together. Juuzou isn’t afraid of ghouls, he doesn’t even dislike them, he’s the only human he’s ever met who truly doesn’t really feel differently about ghouls and humans and it’s so weird! Clearly he knows about biology and laws and what his job is, but he’s kill humans too if he was told. He HAS

Ayato sort of comes out of his shell around him. He respects him for his raw power, likes him for not being judge mental like everyone else in this shitty building, and can vibe with him since he apparently gets ghoul body language. No eye contact? They both mimic each other’s tics? Juuzou understands what ghouls do and why? Awesome!

He doesn’t admit it, but he likes that unhinged fuck. He hangs out with him more because, as he puts it, “he’s the only human here I don’t want to strangle.” Since neither are very good at reading (both got late starts to learning how) and neither are well adjusted to literally anything, they just fuck around. They climb onto buildings, trespass places, train together, Juuzou even taught Ayato his knife throwing trick, and that kid can do some cool shit with his hardened kagune spikes now

Juuzou is better emotional support than he knows. Who else but Juuzou can spot ghoul emotions so well? He knows that ghouls stand against walls to hide their kakuhou when they’re stressed, so when he sees Ayato doing it he drags him to the break room to get coffee. He knows ghouls are twitchy and aggressive when overstimulated, so when he sees his bro doing it he tosses a blanket over him, and it actually helps. He even knows that ghouls need a lot of physical touch to feel safe, and drapes himself over Ayato’s lap when he’s on the couch like a cat. It just comes naturally to him to spot and handle ghouls in distress since he’s so well acquainted with their needs, and he just assumes it’s the right thing to do

On multiple occasions, Shinohara has been called by the police to Please Collect His Bastards when Juuzou and Ayato go places they shouldn’t. It was bad enough when it was just Juuzou, but know Ayato is helping him climb radio towers and shit

With the vaccine that allows ghouls to eat human food, they don’t really know what’s good. Juuzou knows that it’s like to live on one type of little food and then suddenly have a world of options, so he takes it upon himself to show Ayato the best foods right away. That means a hell of a lot of sugar. He is the reason Ayato knows which cinnabon dumpster doesn’t lock and what time the unsold pastries are tossed

#tokyo ghoul #tokyo ghoul headcanon #juuzou suzuya #ayato kirishima