#“hey jo why is he in a bathrobe?”

[maplenotebook]

Marius plushie from a while back :)

#maples plushies #marius von hagen #tears of themis #“hey jo why is he in a bathrobe?” #becAUSE im lazy and havent sewn his outfit yet

[jayankles]

The Culmination: Endgame

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader

Word Count: 2362

Summary: Y/N doesn’t feel so good and it’s not like her to not answer the phone to Sebastian. He was right to send over Josie, Y/N’s friend, over to find out what’s wrong.

Warnings: Angst, Implied Smut, Fluff

Written for: @anyfandomangstbingo​ | @anyfandomfluffbingo​ | @anyfandomgoesbingo​ 

Squares Filled:  Sick fic | first time | “I really don’t like doing this over the phone”

A/N - Blake Lively is not a representation of the reader; it’s just for the dress. And the other beautiful woman is exactly who I pictured for Josie.

Feedback is gold and appreciated

Of course, you were sick today. The day that Sebastian had told you that he was to take a day at the gym then spend it with Don. You knew that when you woke up this morning it wasn’t going to be a good day, the cold sheets a little foreshadowing of how your day would have gone. The little guttural feeling you had punching you in the gut right now, it had you on the floor, bent over the toilet seat with your head in the bowl.

You felt awful. Unable to move, unless it was your throat spasming. Definitely the worst day so far, you couldn’t move and when you finally were able to move at all you felt like a robot. Not a good look.

You decided that it was time to head back to bed, none of your food would stay down so you made yourself a bottle of water and stumbled into bed with a bucket in your hand, ready to put the bucket on the floor beside your bed.

Pulling at the covers, you curled up under them and took a swig of your drink. Tears rolled down your face as you felt the pain grow stronger, you rubbed your stomach in hopes it would make you feel better; it didn’t.

All you could do was pray that you would fall asleep to not feel this pain anymore. Sleep evaded you. The pain is all there is that you feel. You threw up another three times before you finally succumbed to the pleasures of sleep. Rattling of keys had been the object that had drawn you out of your few moments of slumber. You didn’t dare move though, there was no point, you couldn’t move anyway.

“Y/N! Y/N, where are you?” It took you a minute to realise that it was your friend, Josie, shouting your name in hopes of finding you. “Y/N, Whe- There you are. What are you still doing in bed? Oh...”

She looked as if she sighed out a breath of relief before she retracted, covering her mouth and nose with her hand. Inhaling the stench of the room, she quickly ran out of there, returning with air freshener, spraying it around you to make her feel better.

“You need a bath, babe. Stay here and I’ll run you one. Of course you’re going to stay here, you poor thing.” Josie rambled, you stopped her before she could go on for another hour.

“Jo, pour some lavender in there. Love you.”

Freshly out of the bath after thirty minutes, you were wrapped up in Sebastian’s bathrobe, a reminder that he was home as it still smelt like him. “I hate feeling like this. It sucks. But I feel better already.”

Josie softly smiled at you, pity in her eyes. “Must have been that nap you took but I know it sucks. Could you imagine Seb with this kinda illness, though? It would be 100% worse just because it’s man flu.”

“Thank you for being here.” You said, taking a seat on the couch. “What are you doing here anyway?”

“Seb called, said he tried texting and video chatting you but you wouldn’t pick up. I guess he was right to have me come over and check on you.”

“He’s such a cutie.” You groaned as you walked, the bath only slightly relieving some of the pain.

“I know. It makes me wanna barf… not like you, though. That shit is nasty, no, thank you, ma’am.” She tutted through a pinched nose, reminding of just how gross you felt and smelt not even a mere hour ago.

“You’re a pleasure as always, Jo. Always so kind to me, when I feel like shit. Thank you.”

She shrugged knowingly, a smirk on her face as she reached forward for the remote, finding a music channel and turning it down a little so it faded into the background becoming nothing but white noise. “So do you know what brought this on? Eat some bad food?”

“I don’t think so, otherwise Seb would feel the same way right?”

“Well you aren’t pooping as well as being sick so this isn’t a viral or bacterial thing. You’re not burning up? No severe migraines?” She asked and you only had one answer.

“Nope. And no, my appendix hasn’t burst because I’ve already had it out.” You said, becoming tired again as you let out a yawn.

“Well, I think I might need to slip out for a little bit.”

“Why? Where are you going? I thought you were going to take care of me?”

“I am. I’m just gonna head to the store and grab you some stuff to make tomato soup. I’ll be twenty minutes tops.” Josie was true to her word, never taking more than the twenty minutes she promised. Putting the bag of groceries on the counter, Josie pulls out the contents, revealing the ingredients she offered to get for you but you could tell that there was something else in the bag.

“What’s in there?”

Josie was fidgety, her fingers twiddling together. “I need you to keep an open mind because I think I know why you’re grossly throwing up.”

“Hit me. I wanna know how I can feel better right now.”

“It’s a good thing that you’re sitting down because…” She paused, making a face that she knew you weren’t going to like. “Because I think you’re pregnant.” her face unchanging as she pulled out the pregnancy test.

Then it hit you. 

No.No.No. Fuck!

Hands dancing.

Tongues twining.

Passion blooming.

It was everything you could have asked for when he was away but now that Sebastian was back, you couldn’t keep your hands off of him. You covered every area of the apartment possible.

Oh crap.

“Fuck!”

“Yes you did.” Josie laughed at her own joke, the reaction not quite the same on your end.

“Oh god, Sebastian is going to kill me. He’s never going to want to talk to me. Why was I so stupid? Oh, I’m never gonna hear from him again. I’ll be kicked out. I’ll be a single mother. I’m gonna have to live with you and if I have this baby, you’re gonna hate me, then you’re gonna kick me out too. ”

Josie scoffed at you, helping you scurf back your hair away from your face, making you look into her wide eyes. “First of all, chill. I gotchu, you know I gotchu forever. Sebastian isn’t like that, but if he is you will never see him again and that is a promise and maybe a little bit of a threat. He’ll deserve it if he hurts you so. Just be my alibi if anything ever happens. Just go take the test. Negative? You’re just sick. Positive? You call Sebastian and you talk to him like an adult.”

“Why are you always right? Don’t you ever get sick of it?” You huffed before you smiled at her, squeezing at her hand after taking the small handful of the pregnancy test boxes back to the bathroom.

Five minutes passed and you were holding the peed on sticks in your hand, four out of five of them being positive. “I think I need to call Sebastian, and a doctor.”

After making an appointment with the doctor, you took a deep breath and pressed the button to call Sebastian. He picks up the call pretty quickly and you are not surprised.

“Y/N! Finally! Are you okay? What happened?”

“Hey bubba. I’m fine, just a little sickness. But I really don’t like doing this over the phone. When are you coming home. We need to talk.”

Two months later.

It was the night of the premiere of Avengers: Endgame and you couldn’t be more thrilled for the success that the Marvel Franchise had. It was 10 years of absolute lovable craziness. Thank you, Stan Lee.

You had no idea that you would be here on the aptly coloured, purple carpet with Sebastian after all you would have thought that you would still be with him after the whole pregnancy fiasco but the two of you were able to talk things through. Things were thrown, voices were raised, and tears were shed but still after all of that, Sebastian made the executive decision to calm the two of you down. The stress was no good for anyone at this point. You were both going to be parents; it’s what was established.

The two of you walked hand in hand, palms sweating as the cameras flashed, and photographers called out to each and every star that was involved in the production of Endgame. The culmination of the whole franchise was just so surreal, the fact that it was ending with a bang both made you swell with pride but it also made you a tad emotional because this collection of amazing characters wouldn’t continue but the legacy they left would. And that was what mattered.

“Sebastian! Y/N! Over here!” You heard from one of the interviewers, looking beautiful in her outfit, Sebastian rubbed his thumb across your knuckles, you were going to be okay. He was right there with you and you had done this a few times before. He was there for you.

“Hi.” “Hello. You and Sebastian answered at the same time, making the interviewer laugh.

“Wait, I remember you. I bought you a soup in a thermos and Tom gave you his jacket. I see we got lucky with good weather today, huh?” You said, smiling at her.

“Yes. You remember me?!” The woman turned to the camera looking right into the lens of it. “Guys, I’m fangirling so hard right now. Ah!”

Once the woman got her fangirling out of the way, she moved onto the interview, trying to get any information that she could before the movie premiered. Sebastian took over that one, telling her that there was no way that they were allowed to say anything about the movie other than he was dust.

“Now we’ve got that movie non gossip out of the way. Are you okay to talk freely about your pregnancy?”

You looked to Sebastian, it was his decision just as much as it was yours, you knew that Sebastian wanted to keep his private life separate from his professional acting career. “It’s okay, honey. Go ahead.”

“I think you’re good to go.”

“Thank you. I must say that you do look stunning in that dress.” She gushed, you thanked her, hiding your face a little. You loved this dress, the nude under layer and the little white and purple flowers that scattered across your dress, your bump barely visible through your dress.

“How far along are you?”

“Well, we’re in the first week of the second trimester. So I’m a little more confident when telling you that.”

“That’s amazing. Was the pregnancy planned at all?”

You made a face, sucking in a little air, looking to Sebastian for a little light to be shed on the situation. “Not at all. It was Y/N’s friend that actually realised that her morning sickness wasn’t her having the flu. She felt absolutely awful that morning, it was enough to know that it was bad when I tried to call her and I didn’t get an answer.

“We had our issues, you know, we didn’t know what to do, we're new at this. But I think that it’s important to know that you don’t abandon your family.” Sebastian softly smiled at you, subconsciously putting a hand on your slowly growing stomach. “I guess that is what this franchise is about though, right? It’s about family and- and looking out for one another. Everybody’s got a somebody here and I love that.”

“And Thanos, fucks it all up and snaps his goddamn fingers.” The three of you and the cameraman began to laugh at your little outburst about the mad, purple titan. “God, I can’t wait for the premiere tonight but I’m scared. For everybody. But especially for me, you know, I’m an emotional person anyway, add a hormonal woman to the mix and a whole lot of angst. Get my ice cream and tissues ready, because I’m coming for you, Thanos.”

“I heard that!”

“Love you, Josh. For the record, Josh is a nice guy, the character he plays is a big old sack of balls and I have no idea how he does it so convincingly.” Lovingly, you made eyes at Seb. “But it’s just like my Sebastian, a dark hydra assassin but in reality he’s a big ball of sunshine and goofiness. And I love him for it.”

“This is- this is what gets me.” The interviewer leaned in a little as Sebastian’s voice dropped to a slight whisper. “I know that she is going to be the best mom for our child because Y/N loves everything and everyone and that is a great quality to have but she’s also caring and matches my goofy side but her sass outweighs mine of course, no one can beat that.”

“Aww, he’s making me cry already. Seb,” you whined. “My makeup.”

“Well that's it folks.” The woman spoke, telling the audience that this was one of the cutest interviews that she had ever taken, that she could die happy and quickly saying congratulations before the two of you were whisked away to walk the carpet again and pose for pictures.

“You’re way too good to me, you know that right?” You said to Seb as you admired the sky blue suit he was wearing over his plain white tee. “I never even got to tell them that this baby will have the hottest dad in the world as well as the sweetest man. Thank you for being my baby daddy.”

Unbeknownst to you, the cameras had caught every single moment the two of you shared. The kisses you shared together, were now shared with the world, all over social media. At this point you didn’t care, you only cared about the man in front of you and the baby growing in your stomach. And this god damn movie!

Feedback is gold and appreciated

#anyfandomgoesbingo #anyfandomangstbingo #anyfandomfluffbingo #sebastian x reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan angst #sebastian stan fluff #sebastian stan x pregnant!reader #sebastian x pregnant!reader #mcu fic #rpf fic #sebastian stan fic #sebastian x reader fluff #queue you! #jayankles #jayankles writes #bailey writes

[canyouimaginethatstory]

Wrongfully Accused Part 12 (Lucifer X Reader)

PART 1: Here  PART 2: Here PART 3: Here PART 4: Here PART 5: Here PART 6: Here PART 7: Here PART 8: Here PART 9: Here PART 10: Here PART 11: Here  PART 13: Here  PART 14: Here  PART 15: Here

The next morning Lucifer just held you as you slept. He couldn't help but admire you. You were beautiful. He softly ran his hand up and down your arm as he kissed the top of your head. Your eyes fluttered open as you curled up to him. 

"Morning," he greeted brushing some hair out of your face.

"Morning," you greeted back, "Did you sleep well?".

"I had a beautiful girl beside me," he answered as he took your chin in his hand and ran his thumb over your bottom lip, "how could I not?" he smirked as he leaned down and softly kissed you. You carded your fingers through his messy hair as he pulled you closer deepening the kiss. Before things could go further you heard Dean's voice. "Y/N you up?!" he called as he walked into your apartment. You had actually forgotten he had a key.

"Shit, my brother," you whispered.

"Dean?" Lucifer asked in a whispered tone. You nodded.

"Y/N you up?!" he called.

"I'll be out in a second Dean!" you called back as you got up and wrapped your bathrobe around you and tying it closed, "I'll try to get rid of him," you whispered before kissing Lucifer and heading out of the room.

"Mornin Sis," Dean greeted, "sleep well?".

"I was until you woke you up," you teased your big brother.

"Hey you know I always bring you donuts on our shared day off," he said pointing to a box on your kitchen table.

"Yes but I was sleeping so good,' you said.

"Baby," he teased and shoved him.

"For that, I get both of the chocolate donuts this time," you claimed grabbing a plate from the cabinet. Thats when it hit you that Lucifer didn't really have plates, and silver, and stuff like that. You would have to get him some. You opened the box of donuts and took out the two huge, chocolate drenched donuts from the box.

"You're lucky I love you," Dean teased rolling his eyes, "those were mine,".

"Not anymore," you smiled sweetly.

"Oh and here," he said handing you a golden envelope.

"That time of year again," you said.

"Yep," he nodded, "Oh and Jess might call you later,".

"Why?" you asked curious.

"Sam's gotta go out town over the weekend," he explained, "and she doesn't wanna be alone all the time. Jo has offered to stay overnight with her tonight and Saturday,".

"I'll see what I can do," you told him.

"Alright kiddo," he said as he hugged you, "gotta go. Helping Jo get some stuff for tonight,".

"Love you, Dean," you told him.

"You too," he said as he left. After a few moments, Lucifer cracked the bedroom door open.

"Is it safe?" he asked.

"All clear," you told him walking into the kitchen, "I got us breakfast,". You grabbed two forks from a drawer and handed him one.

"Everything ok with your brother?" he asked as he took the fork.

"Yeah just our usual donut day," you told him. He smiled. you had written about the tradition you and your brother had. "He also brought me this," you said holding up the golden envelope. Lucifer groaned.

"You get invited to these things too?" he asked.

"Yep," she said, "well my brothers do. This will be my first year,".

"I actually got invited too," he admitted, "dear old dad had Micheal deliver it,". "You saw two of your brothers?" she asked and he nodded.

"Micheal is still an ass," he said. Your heart ached as you saw the anger and sadness in his eyes at the mention of his older brother. Chuck apparently was known to have been rather fertile in his youth and had four boys with four different women. The first one was Micheal. He was the oldest. And pretty much Chuck's sidekick. Then there was his brother Rafael. Who had died overseas. 

Then Lucifer and after him Gabriel.

"Are you gonna go?" you asked. He just looked down at the plate you were sharing.

"I don't know," he said, "I mean it's not like my dad would really care. He hasn't made any attempt to contact me himself,". You softly ran your hand up and down his back.

"If you decide to go I'll go with you," you told him, "and if not I'll stay home with you,".

"If we go together your brothers will see us," he pointed out.

"Does it bother you that they don't know yet?" you asked.

"No," he said taking your hand and kissing your knuckles, "I don't mind waiting until your ready to tell them,". You smiled.

"I'm ready," you told him, "I don't wanna keep you a secret anymore. You don't deserve that. But I should tell them before the event,".

"You just wanna show me off," he teased that playful grin appearing on his face.

"Well why would I not?" you said, "you are adorable after all,".

"Your brothers won't be happy," he pointed out.

"Maybe not," you said, "but accept you or not. I'm not giving you up," you got up and hugged him. He rested against you and wrapped his arms around you as he placed a kiss on your shoulder. "I love you,".

"I love you too," he replied, "though I'm gonna miss being your dirty little secret,". You rolled your eyes as you leaned down and kissed him.

"Are you gonna be ok for a few hours by yourself?" you asked.

"Why?" he asked confused.

"Sam wants me to spend some time with Jess through the weekend," you explained, "he'll be out of town,".

"Gonna be a little boring here without you," he said, "we haven't really been apart very long yet,". you smiled as you cupped his face in your hands.

"I promise you that all tonight and all tomorrow night I am all yours," you told him.

"Deal," he said standing up and placing his hands on your hips, "so do you have to get ready to leave now?".

"Not yet," you told wrapping your arms around his neck.

"Well since we have a little time," he said as he slid his hands down under your thighs and lifted you up. Which caused you to wrap your legs around him and giggle, "I can give you a proper see you later,". You kissed him as he carried you back into the bedroom. A while later you were showered and dressed and on the phone with Jess.

"Do you need me to bring anything?" you asked her as Lucifer cleaned up the little kitchen area of your apartment, "ok sure. Be there in a bit Jess, bye,". You walked over to Lucifer and gave him a kiss as he wrapped you in his arms. 

"Behave while I'm gone," you teased.

"Ok, but I can't promise the same when you get home," he winked before giving you one more kiss before you left.

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[whelvenwings]

Thanks (for being an asshole)

Dean/Castiel, 4.4k, AU (no supernatural), Breaking Up & Making Up, Angst with a Happy Ending.

Dean and Castiel broke up two weeks ago, and Dean's been a wreck ever since. Tonight, he's heading to Charlie's apartment for some ice-cream, alcohol, and a TV marathon - or so he thinks. Charlie, however, has other plans for the evening, and who might be there to have a long talk with Dean.

Read it here on AO3 if you prefer!

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

Dean had been promised ice cream and a TV marathon and beer - and maybe something stronger - and that was the only reason he was leaving his apartment for the first time in two weeks.

It was bitterly cold and apparently he needed to have a look at the Impala’s heating system, because as he drove towards Charlie’s place the air coming out of the vents was doing a great job at speeding up his fingers’ journey towards frostbite. He turned on the stereo, and a song came on that he knew. Led Zep, obviously. Castiel would have -

Dean’s stomach clenched and his chest ached and he said, out loud,

“Nope.”

He wasn’t thinking about Castiel. Not today. It had been two weeks of thinking and thinking and thinking, and today he was giving it a rest. He was going to go to Charlie’s place and watch whatever crappy TV she put on while attempting to drown himself in a potent mix of alcohol and Phish Food.

He turned off the stereo. The silence wasn’t much worse or better. When he had nothing to listen to, he thought about Castiel; when he had something to listen to, he thought about Castiel with a backing track. It wasn’t much of a choice.

Phish Food. Phish Food and old soap operas and no ex-boyfriends.

Even thinking about Castiel as his ex-boyfriend made Dean’s grip on the steering wheel tighten.

When he pulled up outside Charlie’s apartment, he took a moment to gather himself. He’d been avoiding Charlie’s calls for days up until this morning, and he was pretty sure that if she didn’t see him today, she was going to chase him back to his own apartment and force-feed him Ben and Jerry’s finest herself. Even still, he didn’t want to go in. He just wanted to start the Impala’s engine again and drive away. He wasn’t hungry for the ice cream. He didn’t want to be seen by anyone. Charlie would know as soon as she saw his face that he was broken. 

Dean felt raw and razor-sharp. He was in tatters and ribbons and he knew that it showed and he didn’t want to damn well cry in front of anyone tonight. 

He wouldn’t, he wouldn’t. He could stop himself crying, he wasn’t two years old. He was doing it now, after all, wasn’t he? It wasn’t so hard.

Getting out of the Impala, Dean slammed the door behind him and headed inside Charlie’s building. It was a shabby, nondescript place with an elevator that was a little past its best. The sign had some graffiti on it, so that it read, 

No More Than 6 00000 People in this Elevator at One Time. Thanks for being an asshole

Dean stared at it.

Thanks for being an asshole, Castiel had pointed out to him, the first time Dean had brought him to meet Charlie. 

Thanks for being an asshole, Dean had joked, when Castiel had stolen all the blankets, the first night they’d slept in the same bed.

Thanks for being an asshole, Castiel had said, when Dean would get hard-headed in an argument, give him the silent treatment.

Thanks for being an asshole. Their get-out clause, their password, their grin in the middle of their worst times. They’d had problems, sure. But they’d always got themselves back out, together. Dean had meant it when he’d said thank you for them. He’d been grateful, in a way. Because if he was annoying Castiel and Castiel was annoying him, it meant that even through the worst of their crap, they were holding onto each other.

And now Dean was reading those words for the first time since the break-up, and he wanted to laugh and he wanted to hit something. He could hear them in Castiel’s voice. His throat felt choked. His hands were fists by his sides.

Ding!

The elevator’s doors rumbled open. Dean walked out of it on legs made of concrete, feeling like a part of him was still back in there reading those words, over and over. Before he walked down the hallway to Charlie’s door, he took a second to lean against the wall and try to pull himself together again. He was never going to make it through a long night. He needed to go home and sleep more. But he could at least show his face, stop Charlie worrying about him.

When he peeled himself off the wall and walked down towards Charlie’s door, he found that it was already ajar. Frowning, he tapped his knuckles on against it as he stepped inside.

Charlie was standing in the tiny hallway, her hands on her hips, looking expectant.

“Hi!” she said, stepping towards him.

“Uh… hey?” Dean said. She was wearing a thick winter coat and boots. “Are we going somewhere?”

Grabbing him by the arms, Charlie swivelled them around in a half-circle and then backed out of her own front door, and promptly slammed it in Dean’s face.

“What?” Dean demanded. “Charlie?!”

“It’s for your own good,” Charlie said, and he could hear the sound of her keys in the lock. “I swear to god, Dean, I’m doing this for you, okay? Please don’t hate me.”

“What are you talking ab-”

“Dean?”

Dean went quiet and still. He knew the voice that had sounded from behind him, inside the apartment. He’d know it anywhere.

“Charlie,” Dean said in a low, threatening voice.

“I’ll be at the Starbucks down the block,” Charlie said through the door. “And Dean, I know you probably could break my door down, but please don’t do it. I’ll be back in an hour so just hide in the bathroom if you have to. Don’t break my door. Okay bye!”

Dean slammed his fist against the door, furiously, as he heard her footsteps start to recede down the hall.

“Charlie! Don’t you dare walk away, don’t - don’t - ah, shit.”

In the distance, there was the far-off ding of the elevator. 

She’d really gone. Dean was locked in here.

He turned around. Standing opposite him now in the hall, there he was: the person Dean most and least wanted to see in the whole world.

Castiel. He looked -

Well, he looked like a wreck, if Dean was being honest. He had big dark shadows swooping under his eyes, and his hair was a mess, and he seemed to be wearing a new blue bathrobe and old pyjamas with his snowboots at the bottom.

“Did you walk here in that?” Dean asked, at the same time as Castiel said,

“You look terrible.”

Dean wanted to hug him. Not in a stupid airy-fairy sweet way. He wanted to hug Castiel so tightly that it crushed him. He ground his fingernails into his palms.

“Charlie told me we were having a movie night,” Dean said.

“She said to me that she had some of my stuff that she wanted to give back to me. From you.”

“So you came in your freakin’ pyjamas?”

Castiel looked haughty.

“It’s none of your business anymore,” he said.

Dean pulled a big cold smirk.

“That’s right,” he said, “It’s not. Get hypothermia. Whatever.”

“As though you’re the height of fashion, today. How long since you shaved?”

“Not your business anymore,” Dean said tightly.

They stared at each other for a long moment. The light in the hall flickered. Dean was so angry he could weep. He wanted to hit the wall.

“Are we going to try to break out?” Castiel asked.

“‘We’ aren’t doing anything.”

“Then in the absence of a better plan, I’m going to go and sit down,” Castiel said calmly. “And wait for an hour.”

“Dibs on the good seat.” It came out almost automatically - just the first thing Dean could think of that would make Castiel annoyed. C’mon. Feel something. Fight with me. Why exactly Dean wanted a fight wasn’t important. He was so angry that it burned. Him. Castiel. Alone. In an apartment. Fucking Charlie. Dean was ready to physically fight whoever was nearest.

“No,” Castiel said. “I was here first -”

“Doesn’t matter. I called dibs,” Dean said, stepping forward as Castiel turned away towards the living room.

“I called it before you were here.” Castiel was obviously trying to act dignified, but he made a rush for the chair as soon as he heard Dean coming up behind him; Dean grabbed for the back of his bathrobe, and pulled hard. Castiel turned to push him off and the two of them squabbled, ungainly, moving into the living room step by awkward step.

“It’s my turn ,” Castiel said, with Dean’s arm at his throat. “You had it last time we were here.” 

“That was before. ”

“Before what?”

“‘Before what?’ Seriously?”

“Before breaking up? That makes a difference?”

“What, it doesn’t make a difference to you?” Dean shot at him.

Castiel glared at him furiously, and then with a twist of his shoulders he was out of the bathrobe and dropping into the best seat in Charlie’s living room. Dean was left standing with the gown in both hands, holding it tightly.

That had been all wrong. The physicality of it. They weren’t supposed to touch anymore. They weren’t supposed to even see each other, that was the last thing Castiel had said before he’d left - but thanks to Charlie, that part was already wrecked.

Dean sat down on the second-best chair. It had a hard upright back that no amount of cushions could improve.

They sat in silence for some time. Dean pulled his phone out, and tried to call Charlie. Her number was unavailable. He texted her, and then texted Sam, and Jo, and even Bobby. Stuck in hell at Charlie’s please come, emergency.

When he glanced up, he saw that Castiel was looking down at the floor.

No one was replying to his messages. Dean put his phone on the arm of the chair, where he could definitely see and hear it if someone answered.

The seconds ticked on.

Castiel. Dean didn’t want to look at him, and also wanted to look and look and look, because this… he thought he’d already had his last chance to look at Castiel, to be in the same place as him. He’d been tearing and twisting himself into pieces over that for two weeks, and now he had another chance. Here. In this awkward living room, with everything and nothing to say to each other. It felt like coming up for air and finding it was poison gas, and breathing it anyway.

“How have you been,” Castiel asked, eventually.

Dean said nothing.

Castiel breathed out.

“Fine,” he said. “Don’t talk to me.”

“I just don’t wanna talk.”

“You never want to talk.”

All Dean had been thinking about for two weeks was the things he wanted to say to Castiel. He had reams and reams and reams of words locked in his head. 

“Nope,” he said.

He caught the look on Castiel’s face, the half-second blanch of pain before it was smoothed over with a resigned shrug.

Dean didn’t want to talk. He didn’t want to talk. He wanted to stay shut up tight and safe and not say a single word, and -

Minutes passed.

That look of hurt on Castiel’s face kept cracking against the back of Dean’s mind like a whip. 

You never want to talk. Nope. Crack.

Dean swallowed hard.

Stupid. Stupid words. Stupid Castiel. Stupid Charlie. Stupid goddamn situation. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“I’ve been okay,” he said. Grunted, really.

Castiel looked over at him.

“You have?”

A long pause.

“No,” Dean said.

Castiel’s mouth twisted up ever so slightly to one side and Dean knew he was trying not to show that he was sad. He wanted to pull Castiel in, hold him together. He wished the living room were smaller and they were crushed together, no escape from each other. He wanted the whole world to be so tiny, right now, that they couldn’t be apart by even an inch. 

“You?” Dean said.

“No,” Castiel replied.

Dean nodded.

This room wasn’t claustrophobic enough. It would be a mistake, an embarrassment, a vulnerability, to choose to go over to Castiel now. Dean wanted it to be a necessity, not a choice. He wanted the world to give them no option.

“I keep thinking about that night,” Castiel said.

“When you left?”

“When you told me I had to go.”

“I said maybe you should go,” Dean said. “You were the one who actually did it.”

“You wanted me to.”

Dean’s head jerked up.

“Is that what you think?” he demanded.

Castiel swallowed visibly.

“You think I wanted you to go?” Dean pushed.

“I…”

“Seriously?”

“How am I supposed to know, Dean?” Castiel said, and the pain in his voice was thin as a wire and sharp as a barb. “When you’re angry you just shut me out. You can’t wait to get away from me. You won’t even look at me.”

Dean put his head in his hands.

“I didn’t want to go,” Castiel said. “I didn’t want any of this. But when you can’t stand to be around me…”

“That’s not true,” Dean said, muffled by his hands. Somehow it was easier to talk into them, in the dark.

Castiel didn’t say anything.

Dean took his hands away from his face.

“Then why do you avoid me?” Castiel asked. “When you make me angry, I tell you, and we talk about it, and then it’s done. But when you’re angry, you never say anything, and I have to guess what I think that you want, and this time… everything pointed to you wanting me to leave. Just like it always does. And this time, I actually did it.”

“You knew I didn’t want you to leave,” Dean shot back.

“You didn’t want me to?”

“Really? You’re gonna play it that way? Like you didn’t know?” Dean said. “Jesus.” 

“I didn’t know, Dean.”

There was a ring of truth in his voice that brought Dean up short.

“But that’s not - obviously it’s not like that,” he said. “Obviously I didn’t want that.”

“It’s not obvious. You never say anything. Nothing is obvious.”

Dean glared at the floor. How to explain himself? How to tell Castiel that when he was angry, it felt like he was carrying round a bomb and if he talked, if he said one word, it would go off and explode on them both?

“If I talk to you about that crap, you’ll leave,” Dean said.

“I already left,” Castiel said, “because you didn’t.”

Dean paused to take that in.

“But when I’m angry…”

“I screwed up,” Castiel said. “I upset you. I was always going to because people are never going to be able to agree all the time. You’re going to be angry at me. And I wanted you to tell me.”

Dean snorted.

“What’s funny?”

“You don’t actually want that,” Dean said.

“I do.”

“You don’t. You really don’t.”

“You don’t think I want to know about what you’re thinking?”

Dean shrugged.

“I think me being angry is a me problem.”

“Right. So that’s why you said I should leave.”

“I said maybe you should leave.”

“You gave up,” Castiel said.

“ Me? You left!”

“You told me to.”

“I didn’t really want you to…”

“How was I supposed to know that, Dean?”

“You can’t tell that I don’t want you to leave? You can’t tell that I care?”

“I know you care,” Castiel said, angrily at first, and then again, quieter. “I know you care.”

There was a pause.

“Maybe I should’ve tried harder,” Dean said after a while, trying to keep his voice from being too thick with feeling. “That night.” Castiel, across the room, put his head on one side. It was such a familiar gesture that Dean almost broke.

“You always try your hardest,” Castiel said. “I do know that. You just try your hardest to keep me out, most of the time. Not let me in.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Dean said. Castiel went still.

“This is -” he began, and then cut himself off. Dean looked up at him. “Nothing you could say,” Castiel said carefully, “could be worse than the things I imagine you thinking.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re glad I’m finally gone,” Castiel said, so quickly, so easily, and Dean could tell how many times he must have thought it. “Like I’ve been hanging around for too long, all this time. Like your life just got so much easier and better without me in it. Like you’ve wished I’d leave for so long, but you didn’t want to hurt me by telling me. Or you just couldn’t be bothered.”

“Couldn’t be…” Dean’s stupid choked-up throat was giving him trouble. And across the room, Castiel wasn’t helping, looking as though he were barely holding it together. Dean gritted his teeth. “It’s nothing like that,” he said.

Castiel raised one shoulder, slightly, eloquently.

Dean took a minute, and then a minute more.

Damn it.

“These last two weeks,” he said, and then stopped, and then started again, looking at the floor. “These last two weeks the thing I’ve thought about the most is how I won’t get to see you again. I haven’t been out my apartment in two weeks until tonight and the whole drive over here I was looking for you on every corner. I don’t - how long am I gonna do that? I haven’t spent a damn second of my life ever wishing you were gone.” Across the room, Castiel looked unconvinced. Damn. It. “What I, uh. What I think about is how - how now we’re broken up your face is going to change when you get older and I won’t know what you look like anymore. Someone else will, maybe. Not me. And I keep thinking that they might be able to - they might feel - for you, I mean - but it won’t be even a - a small… thing - compared to what I - and Cas, I wish that I could give you…” Dean couldn’t go on. He took in a breath, and let it go.

Every word felt like a fire ant bite. And the only reason he had any of it in his head, the only reason he could talk at all, was because he’d spent so much time recently lying in bed trying to explain himself to a Castiel that wasn’t there. Before two weeks ago, he wouldn’t have had a word to say.

When he looked up, eventually, he saw that Castiel was sitting with his bare arms folded, his eyes on Dean. He looked cold, and Dean realised he was still holding the stupid bathrobe in his hands.

“Shit,” he said, standing up. He held it out. “Here.”

Castiel got to his feet, and came near. Dean pressed his lips tightly together. Hard. Strong. As cold as he could be, after saying all that. He’d never spilled so much all at once. It was too much.

As he took the bathrobe, Castiel’s hands brushed Dean’s. 

Don’t, Dean wanted to say. Don’t. I can’t touch you if it might be the last time.

Castiel wrapped the bathrobe around himself again, and tied a knot at his waist. The cord, Dean noticed, was the one from Castiel’s curtains at home, an odd shade of purple.

“You look like a wizard who just got kicked out of magic school in the middle of the night,” Dean said.

“Thanks,” Castiel said.

“For being an asshole?”

Castiel was half a step away. He was watching Dean. There was something in his face that hadn’t been there before Dean had said all that crap - a kind of intensity that Dean recognised. Dean swallowed. He wanted this, he wanted this, he wanted it so badly that he couldn’t speak - but he also knew that he couldn’t stand it, could not stand it, to touch Castiel now and then have him leave. But he couldn’t stand to be here and not hold him, either -

“I can’t do this,” Dean managed. “Cas, I can’t. Not if we’re over.”

Castiel watched him, those eyes of his clouded with thought.

“You’re an asshole,” he said, after some consideration.

“Uh…”

“You are. You’re an asshole. You push me away even though you don’t want to. You’re my best friend, and you act like I’m your worst enemy.”

“Well -”

“It makes me angry, Dean. I’m angry and I’m telling you. And later maybe I won’t be angry, and I’ll tell you about that too. I’ll tell you right now that these two weeks have been hell, in case you couldn’t already tell from the fact that I walked here in a bathrobe to get the things I thought you’d dumped here at Charlie’s for me. I’ll tell you that hearing your voice in the hallway when you arrived was like coming home. I’m telling you because I want you to know... you can’t switch off saying just the bad things. You switch off the good things, too. And I wanted to hear the good things, Dean. I wanted to hear all of it. You were thinking things like that about me all the time? And you let me think you wanted me gone? You asshole .”

Dean’s heart was beating a mile a minute in his chest. He felt hot all over.

“Good things,” Dean said. “That I think about you? You wanted to hear them?”

“If there were any,” Castiel said.

The sincerity with which he said it made Dean want to hit a wall all over again.

“You - you think I don’t think nice things about you? But I do things for you, all the time...”

“You do things for lots of people, Dean.”

“But you - it’s different, it’s special…”

“Is it?”

“You don’t know that?!”

Castiel shrugged.

“I’m an asshole,” Dean said.

He stared at Castiel.

“I’m an asshole,” he said again.

“Dean, I -”

“I am,” Dean said.

“Well. At least when you’re being an asshole, you’re caring and not telling me. Not the other way around.”

There was that slight dryness, the odd humour, Dean had missed with a pit in his stomach.

“Well, for what it’s worth…” He steeled himself. “Cas, I… you… I mean, you know, uh.”

Castiel didn’t know, though. That was the problem. And the world wasn’t going to push the words out of him, fate wasn’t going to force them any closer than this. Dean had to choose. He had to decide to say it.

He looked down at the floor.

“I want to be with you,” Dean said. “Every day. I want you. And I want to deserve you even though I can’t. But I wouldn’t have ever given up. Trying to, I mean. If it wasn’t already over.”

Castiel’s shoulders untensed. His hand moved to Dean’s cheek, thumb pressed into the stubble there.

Dean looked up, into his eyes.

“Don’t leave me,” Dean said.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Castiel said, and kissed him. The kind of kiss that Dean had missed more than anything, the kind that said everything Dean didn’t know how to use words for. Devastatingly soft - no teeth, no anger, no hardness. Hands holding, bodies pressed, skin alive, heart thudding.

I love you, Dean said with that kiss. I love you I love you I love you I love you.

One day he’d say it. One day.

After some time, they made coffee. And talked a little more.

“I was angry with you,” Dean said.

“Why?” Castiel asked. 

Dean gritted his teeth.

“Because,” he said. “It feels like I do a lot of things to show I care. And they don’t seem to mean much to you. So it feels like I care more than you sometimes.”

“But I always tell you that I care,” Castiel said.

“Anyone can say it,” Dean said.

“Oh, really?”

Dean snorted.

“Fine. Point made.”

“I can show you,” Castiel said. “As well as tell you.”

“You can?”

“Mm.” Castiel drew him closer. “I can start now.”

They sat together on the best chair, which was just big enough for two people who wanted to be close. Dean’s phone, lighting up over on the arm of the second-best chair, went ignored. And so it came as something of a shock when there was an almighty crash from the front door, followed by the sound of a distant wail.

“What the -”

Together, Dean and Castiel rushed towards the noise. When they arrived in the hallway, they saw a small gathering: Bobby, Jo, a very surprised-looking Sam, and a distraught Charlie who appeared a few seconds later.

“What did you do?” she said. “How did you get here?”

“I just kicked down a door,” Sam said, sounding proud of it.

“What’s going on here?” Jo asked, looking between Dean and Castiel, a smile growing on her face as she took in the way they were standing, close to each other.

“We were just told there was an emergency,” Bobby said.

“And you couldn’t have tried to knock first to stop it?” Charlie demanded.

“We thought the element of surprise might be important,” Sam said. “Like in a hostage situation.”

“Yeah,” Charlie said sarcastically. “Loudly slamming my door off its hinge is going to make it really surprising when you walk into my apartment.”

“It wasn’t a very good door,” Bobby said.

“It was great! It opened and it closed and it didn’t hang off one hinge at all!”

“I can get a new one. Better.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yep,” Bobby said.

“Huh. Well… okay, then.”

“Yeah, but seriously, what’s going on here?” Jo asked. She was still looking at Dean and Castiel, her eyes flickering between them. “Is there something I don’t know?”

“Don’t look at me,” Dean said. “Charlie’s the one who locked us in here.”

“Wait - what?” Sam demanded.

“You did what?” Jo said, sounding more delighted than Dean would have preferred.

“Well…” Charlie shifted uncomfortably. “You know, they just wouldn’t talk to each other… and they make each other so happy, when they don’t have their heads up their asses… and it was all wrong, so I just thought…”

“You thought you’d lure us to your apartment under false pretences and then lock us in,” Castiel finished for her.

“With the best of intentions?” she said weakly.

“Still kind of an asshole thing to do,” Dean said.

Charlie opened her mouth, and then closed it, seeming to accept this.

“But, uh, hey - Charlie?”

“Yeah?��

Dean looked at Castiel, and grinned, and took his hand.

“Thanks for being an asshole,” he said.

#whelvenwingsfic #thebloggerbloggerfun #angst with a happy ending #hurt/comfort elements #i just had to get those breakup feelings out guys #seen too much of the angst on my dash #also #nano is looking good so far!!! #that's 4.4k today plus the poems i wrote! #feelin good #also thank you so much to the people #who helped me call dibs! #;d

[lockdownfest]

LOCKDOWN FEST MASTERPOST WEEK #2 EXTENSION

*

BLOOD AND CHOCOLATE (2007)

Stuck in the Middle with You by InsanelyWriteful (M) 6k, WIP. With the zombie pandemic in full swing, Nigel flings himself into the fray on the hunt for groceries. Don't even get him started on trying to find that most-sought-after, priceless item of all items: toilet paper. As far as the world's concerned, that doesn't exist anymore. With the world going to hell, Nigel finds himself trapped with a strange man named Aiden Galvin. But, hey, there are worse fates than being stuck with a hot piece of tail, right?

BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA

Two Weeks In Quarantine by JedIzuku (T) 48k WIP, Midoriya Izuku/Todoroki Shouto. A virus threatens all of Japan. Everyone needs to self-quarantine for two weeks to help prevent the spread. Izuku Midoriya learns that his friend, Shoto Todoroki, would be quarantined alone because of his father’s work. And Izuku won’t stand for that.A love story.

CHARLIE COUNTRYMAN

Stuck in the Middle with You by InsanelyWriteful (M) 6k, WIP. With the zombie pandemic in full swing, Nigel flings himself into the fray on the hunt for groceries. Don't even get him started on trying to find that most-sought-after, priceless item of all items: toilet paper. As far as the world's concerned, that doesn't exist anymore. With the world going to hell, Nigel finds himself trapped with a strange man named Aiden Galvin. But, hey, there are worse fates than being stuck with a hot piece of tail, right?

FALL OUT BOY

Gradually and Then Suddenly by earlgreytea68 (G) 3.3k, Patrick Stump/Pete Wentz. Life in quarantine: fourth-grade science, couch concerts, blanket forts.

HANNIBAL

Point of View by house_of_lantis (M) 3.8k, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter.  Summary: Franklyn Froideveaux gets an unexpected peek into Dr. Hannibal Lecter’s personal life during their self-isolation. 

HARRY POTTER

Locked Inside Your Temper Trap by VeelaWings (E) 4.3k, Draco Malfoy/Neville Longbottom. This was a minor problem. Not the being trapped in a humid greenhouse with a sweaty, gorgeous Draco, mind you. No, it was being trapped with a sweaty, pissed off Draco who would inevitably blame Neville.Plus the obstacle of not having the privacy to enjoy a fast and dirty wank with all this evening’s material.

Top Priority by JayGwen23 (T). 8k, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter. England is trying to stop the spread of an aggressive, new virus that is affecting both wizards and muggles. Everyone is being told to self isolate. House mates, Harry and Draco are stuck at home trying to brave it through the madness, while trying not no go mad themselves.Written for Lock Down Fest.

Bored Harry by foxymoley (G) FANART. Harry's been stuck in his room at Privet Drive and is bored out of his mind!He uses his wand in a mug as a lamp as Hedwig stretches as much as she can in her cage.

Harry Potter and the Secret in the Library by EvAEleanor, tasteofshapes (E) 11.6k, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter. Draco stands outside the library for a moment, before he turns the handle and pushes the heavy double doors open. What he expects to find is a silent library cloaked in darkness. What he gets instead is a fire crackling merrily away in the grate, the library lit only by firelight, and Potter lounging on the fur rug in front of the fireplace, clad only in a terry-cloth bathrobe, a glass of wine in one hand.“What the… Potter—!” Draco yelps, and Potter looks up from the book open in front of him and raises an eyebrow at Draco.

The Magic of Muggle Films by sunshinedraco (E) 5.3k. Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter. Harry is happy to get home from an Auror mission in Northern Ireland, but may have been exposed to a contagious disease. Draco Malfoy, who comes with a team of Healers to inspect Harry and also happens to be the subject of Harry's long-term awkward crush, is also accidentally exposed. The two are quarantined together. You know what happens.

Sweetheart by WolfyWordWeaver (T) 3k, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, James Potter/Lily Evans Potter. Remus Lupin comes home after a long day working at the hospital and quickly realizes that something is wrong with Sirius. Avoiding COVID-19 doesn't mean avoiding all hurts and Sirius has to deal with a major hurdle. While Remus doesn't have all the answers he does know how to do his best.

Stuck Senses by TheUltimateUndesirable (E) 12k, Neville Longbottom/Luna Lovegood. In the mist of the 2020 pandemic the wizarding world is left with a dire and unknown future as Covid-19 makes it's way into Europe. Hogwarts ends up on quarantined leaving students, professors and a Luna stuck at the school. How long will anything last and what will anything become? No one knows.

Augmented Agony by Drarrelie (T) 365, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter. Of all days... Draco's luck was apparently just as abysmal as ever. This work is part of a series of connected weekly drabbles written during 2020. It takes place in 2001, before the rest of the currently published drabbles in this series, while the two of them are still in Auror training.

If It Takes All Night by tackytiger (M) 11k, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter. It's not the first time Harry's been the victim of a botched curse (that's one of the reasons he doesn't like crowds), but he feels bad that Malfoy had to get caught up in it too. So they're bonded. That's ok, they just have to make sure to be touching at all time. No problem. Because Malfoy smells so nice, and has such lovely shiny hair, and his skin is so very warm.But this isn't going to be a problem for their friendship at all.Is it, Harry?

I'll Tell You Mine (If You Tell Me Yours) by MarchnoGirl (E) 4.2k, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter. When a cauldron of Veritaserum explodes all over Harry and Malfoy, Harry has the chance to finally discover Malfoy’s secrets. And maybe something about himself too.

Correspondence in the Time of Quarantine by Lediona, Zigster (T) 1.5k, WIP, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter. After informing Scorpius of my plan to bring him home, he wrote back immediately to ask if he might bring a friend with him to isolate at the Manor. When I inquired about the identity of this friend, imagine my surprise to discover that it was none other than your son, Albus Potter.

Garden War by Cibee (Cibeeeee) (T) 5k, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter. Harry and Draco are quarantined in their houses, a lake across from one another. What better ways to spend this time than to annoy each other with letters and attempts to prove that their garden is better ?

LITTLE WOMEN (2019)

Chocolate Kisses by lady_needless_litany (T) 3k, WIP, Theodore Laurence/Josephine March. If Jo had to be shut in her house for the foreseeable future, at least she had Laurie to keep her company.

MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE

Strange Attractors by dance4thedead (T) 882. There's an asshole in Matt's apartment. An unworthy love letter to the fic "The Goldilocks Principle". Set in late March 2020, during the COVID-19 crisis.

I walk this lonely road by xxx_cat_xxx (T) 1.6k, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov. Part 3 of Red in my Ledger.

MERCY STREET

We run a very tight ship by middlemarch, sagiow (t) 3k, WIP. Jedediah "Jed" Foster/Mary Phinney. "There must have been a moment, at the beginning, where we could have said -- no. But somehow we missed it.” Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead.Every single passenger on the ship would have that thought. At least once. Sometimes, on an endless loop, like the announcement about pina coladas on Deck 4. It turned out, the only way out was through. With card tricks.

OCEAN’S 8

You Shall Go To The Ball by ShadowHaloedAngel (T) 1.4k, Daphne Kluger/Rose Weil. The lockdown means the parties are all cancelled, but Rose and Daphne decide to have a little ball at home instead. After all, when else can you have a costume party for the hell of it? And with your own fairy godmother on hand, your gown is always going to make you feel like a princess.

OVERWATCH (video game)

nobody nobody nobody nobody nobody (ooh) nobody nobody nobody nobody nobody nobody nobody nobody nobody nobody nobody nobody nobody nobody nobody nobody nobody nobody nobody nobody nobody no— by faorism (M) 9k, Jesse McCree/Hanzo Shimada and other ships. Like most things now, it's more a matter of not if, but when. (Or: five times Jesse kept himself together and one time he really, really didn't.)

PITCH PERFECT

Icy Hot by Notsoawesomenerd (E), 7k. Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell. No, this is not a story about the topical pain reliever. This is a story about the interesting things Chloe can do to Beca with ice and ice-related items.

Desperate Measures by aliciameade (M), 6k, Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell. Chloe and Beca have everything they need to weather the mandated period of social distancing and staying home: food, water, shelter, games, entertainment, and each other's company.The one thing they don't have?Much-needed privacy.

RWBY

The Man in Your Head by goreds (G) 431, Ozpin/Salem (RWBY), Ozma/Salem (RWBY). Salem has a friend in her head. Not that she considers him a friend...

STAR TREK: ALTERNATE ORIGINAL SERIES

fourteen by sciencebluefeelings (T) 2.6k, James T. Kirk/Spock Prime. Two years ago, Spock waited for Jim. Now it's Jim's turn to wait. 

STAR TREK: ORIGINAL SERIES

Seventy Two Hours by LiraelClayr007 (G) 2.4k,  James T. Kirk/Spock Prime. Kirk lowers his voice, makes it almost too low to hear, and this time he is pleading. “Bones. You know why I can’t stay here. You know what this’ll do to me.” He closes his eyes, then says one more time, “Please.” He can’t look when he says it. He already knows the answer.“Sorry, Jim. It’s only three days. If it’s any consolation I don’t think you were actually exposed, but we have to be sure.” He looks at Kirk, then at Spock, then shrugs. He knows what he’s putting Kirk through.Or: Kirk and Spock are accidentally exposed to something on an alien planet and have to spend seventy two hours together in an isolation chamber. Easy, right? Except Kirk is going to go mad, because he's head over heels for Spock.

STAR WARS

grey and sprawling by srawratskcuf (Doreen) (E) 7k WIP, Armitage Hux/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren. Ben and Hux have had a rocky long-distance semi-relationship ever since Hux went away to college. Basically, they call each other once a week and have phone sex, and absolutely do not talk about their feelings.When Ben finally saves up enough to fly across the country to visit Hux, his ten day trip gets extended indefinitely. Sheltering in place together will make or break them.

SUPERNATURAL

some kinda something by quillquiver (E) 2k, Castiel/Dean Winchester. There are only so many places to hide shit when you’re playing with 700 square feet of totally shared living space. This is something Dean has become very aware of in a very short amount of time.

Que Sera, Sera by wigglebox (G) 4.3k, Castiel/Dean Winchester. A few months into his new human life, Cas comes down with a fever and cough. Usually, that wouldn't be a concern, but now there's a contagious, new illness spreading across the country, and the anxiety that comes along with it.

I Don’t Understand These References by CeliPuff, Winchesterlovr0508 (M). 1.5k. Castiel/Dean Winchester, Gabriel/Sam Winchester. Dean says the president extended the quarantine so Sam suggested I make a journal. I suspect it’s a ploy to keep my hands off his brother but being extremely old, I’m entitled to do what I want. And I happen to have eons of experience in multitasking.I prayed to Gabriel to run some interference. I believe this is a foolproof plan.

Apocalypse by Maleyah (Katherine_Kat) (E) 36k WIP, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Gabriel/Sam, Michael/Adam Milligan. Dean moves through Cas’ kitchen with the ease of familiarity, as he sets about re-heating the leftovers. Ironically Cas’ kitchen is better equipped than the one in his apartment. It’s just that he’s been pouring all his money into The Roadhouse. The apartment is a rental anyway.“You have got to be shitting me!”His eyebrows shoot up at the language. Cas doesn’t curse often, but given the fact that the world is slowly descending into madness, he has a good guess what is provoking it. He glances behind him, across the counter that connects the open kitchen to the living room, where Cas is staring at the television. 

THE MAGICIANS

hard rain, honey, and the sweet sun by Allegria23 (E), 7k, Quentin Coldwater/Eliot Waugh. Eliot and Quentin are staying in their apartment. They both have some ideas.

THE WITCHER

Love in the Time of Video Conferencing by Elizabeth (M), 15.6k, Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier. Pestilence is a bitch, and the entire university has had to shift to e-learning overnight. Jaskier is a systems admin being forced to pick up slack for the overwhelmed help desk. Work ended hours ago, so why is he on a support call with the most technologically-incapable history professor he's ever met? And really, what is the deal with this guy?Based on the "OMG they were Zoommates" prompt from the AO3 comment Tumblr.This is, five times Jaskier and Geralt used Zoom for tech support, and one time they used Zoom for... something else. I apologize if this upsets you; it helps me cope with the emotions, so I'm hoping to channel stress into fluff and put it out there so it can possibly help others.

YURI!!! ON ICE

Music from the Heart by Multiple_Universes (G) 6.5k, Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov. A curse falls over the land. It keeps people stuck indoors and will not let them out. The most powerful magician in the land seems unable to break the hold of the curse. But, as they say, love will always find a way.Inspired by videos of people singing from their balconies during the coronavirus quarantine.

#lockdownfest #lockdown fest #masterpost #Week 2 #tw: covid 19 #tw: coronavirus

[dumbledearme]

chapter one

~~ read The Second Soul here ~~

It all started Monday afternoon.

Johanna spent the whole day constructing a 1/10,000-scale replica of the Empire State Building from boxes of adult diapers. It was a thing of beauty, spanning five feet at its base and towering above the cosmetics aisle, with jumbos for the foundation, lites for the observation deck, and meticulously stacked trial sizes for its iconic spire. It was almost perfect, minus one crucial detail.

“You used Neverleak,” Shelley said, eyeing her craftsmanship with a skeptical frown. “The sale’s on Stay-Tite.” Shelley was the store manager, and her slumped shoulders and dour expression were as much a part of her uniform as the blue polo shirts they all had to wear.

Johanna never wore the uniform, came in late, repeatedly and with the flimsiest of excuses; made shockingly incorrect change; even misshelved things on purpose, stocking lotions among laxatives and birth control with baby shampoo, trying as hard as she could to piss Shelley off. “I thought you said Neverleak.” She hadn’t. Shelley had been very clear on her order and Johanna had purposely made the mistake.

“Stay-Tite,” Shelley insisted, shaking her head regretfully. There was a brief but awkward silence in which she continued to shake her head and shift her eyes from Johanna to the tower and back to Johanna again.

Johanna stared blankly at her, as if completely failing to grasp what she was passive-aggressively implying. “What?” she said finally. “You mean you want me to do it over?”

“It’s just that you used Neverleak,” Shelley repeated.

“No problem, Shell.” Johanna kicked a single box from the tower’s foundation and, in an instant, the whole magnificent structure was cascading down around them, sending a tidal wave of diapers crashing across the floor, boxes caroming off the legs of startled customers, skidding as far as the automatic door, which slid open, letting in a rush of August heat.

Shelley’s face turned red and Johanna could see how much the woman hated her. And yet, no matter how incompetent Johanna pretended to be, Shelley stubbornly kept her on the payroll.

It was next to impossible for Johanna to get fired from Smart Aid. Any other employee would’ve been out the door a dozen minor infractions ago. But Johanna’s dad owned every single Smart Aid in Florida and had insisted that she’d work there during the summer.

Wading through the diapers, Shelley poked her finger into Johanna’s chest and was about to say something dour when the PA system interrupted her.

“Johanna Roseberg, you have a call on line two. Johanna Roseberg, line two.”

Shelley glared at Johanna as she backed away.

The employee lounge was a dank, windowless room where Johanna found the pharmacy assistant, Linda, nibbling a crustless sandwich in the vivid glow of the soda machine. She nodded at a phone screwed to the wall. Johanna picked up the dangling receiver.

“Yehanan? Is that you?”

“Yeah, hey, Grandma.”

“Yehanan, thank God. I need my key. Where’s my key?” She sounded upset, out of breath.

“What key?”

“Don’t play games,” she snapped. “You know what key.”

“You probably just misplaced it, you know.”

“Your mother put you up to this,” she said. “Just tell me. She doesn’t have to know, Yehanan.”

“Nobody put me up to anything, Grandma.” Johanna tried to change the subject. “Did you take your pills this morning?”

“They’re coming for me, understand? I don’t know how they found me after all these years, but they did. What am I supposed to fight them with, the goddamned butter knife?”

It wasn’t the first time Grandma acted like this. She was old, and Johanna thought she was starting to lose it. The signs of her mental decline had been subtle at first, like forgetting to buy groceries or calling Johanna by her mother’s name. But over the summer her encroaching dementia had taken a cruel twist and she was sure there were monsters coming to get her.

“Look, you’re safe, Grandma. Everything’s fine. I’ll bring over a video for us to watch later, how’s that sound?”

“No! Stay where you are! It’s not safe here!”

“Grandma, the monsters aren’t coming for you, okay? I swear. You’ll be okay.” Johanna turned to face the wall, trying to hide this bizarre conversation from Linda, who shot her curious glances while pretending to read a fashion magazine.

“You don’t understand, Yehanan,” she said. “No, no, no. You can’t possibly understand. I think I made a mistake not telling you, not talking to you sooner. It might be too late now, Yehanan.” Johanna could hear her banging around her house, opening drawers, slamming things. She was in full meltdown. “You stay away, hear me? I’ll be fine; cut out their tongues and stab them in the eyes, that’s all you gotta do! If I could just find that goddamned KEY!”

The key in question opened a giant locker in her garage where she kept a stockpile of guns and knives sufficient to arm a small militia. It had always been her favorite thing in the world: weapons. She was definitely not your regular muffin-maker grandma.

Johanna’s mom said this sometimes happened to people who had experienced traumatic things. Grandmother was the only member of her family to escape Poland before the Second World War broke out. She was twelve years old when her parents sent her into the arms of strangers, putting their youngest daughter on a train to Britain with nothing more than a suitcase and the clothes on her back. It was a one-way ticket. She never saw her parents or brother ever again. Each one would be dead before her sixteenth birthday, killed by the monsters she had so narrowly escaped. But these weren’t the kind of monsters she was imagining now; they were monsters with human faces, in crisp uniforms, marching in lockstep, so banal you don’t recognize them for what they are until it’s too late. Johanna guessed that after everything her grandmother had been through, she never really felt safe anywhere, not even at home.

“I really don’t know anything about the key,” Johanna said, repeating the lie her mother had told her to say. Mom had taken the key away from Grandma, afraid she would end up hurting herself or others.

There was more swearing and banging as Grandma stomped around looking for the key. “Fine!” she said finally. “Let your mother have the key if it’s so important to her. Let her have my dead body, too!”

Johanna got off the phone as politely as she could and then called her mom.

“Grandma’s flipping out,” she told her.

“Has she taken her pills today?”

“She won’t tell me. Doesn’t sound like it, though.”

Johanna heard her mom sigh. “Can you stop by and make sure she’s okay, Jo? I can’t get off work right now.” Her mom volunteered part-time at the bird rescue. She was an amateur ornithologist and a wannabe nature writer, which are real jobs only if you happen to be married to a man who owns a hundred and fifteen drug stores.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Thanks, Jo. I promise we’ll get all this Grandma stuff sorted out soon, okay?”

“You mean put her in a home,” Johanna said. “Make her someone else’s problem.”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“Of course you have.”

“Jo…”

“Whatever, mom.”

Johanna hung up and called her boyfriend Ricky for a ride. She broke the bad news to Shelley and went outside to have a smoke. Ten minutes later, Ricky arrived with his mud-encrusted boots and his green hair. He saw her and leapt off the hood of his car.

“You fired yet, beautiful?” he shouted across the parking lot.

“I wish.”

Ricky kissed her with such enthusiasm that some people on the street turned to look the other way. “Don’t worry, beautiful. There’s always tomorrow.”

He kicked the car’s passenger door, which was how you opened it, and Johanna climbed in. The engine rattled to life in a cloud of blue smoke. The sky was turning the color of a fresh bruise as they pulled into grandma’s subdivision, a bewildering labyrinth of interlocking cul-de-sacs known collectively as Circle Village.

Johanna’s phone chirped with a text from her dad asking how things were going, and in the short time it took her to respond, Ricky managed to get them stunningly lost. When Johanna said she had no idea where they were, he cursed and pulled a succession of squealing U-turns as she scanned the neighborhood for a familiar landmark. It wasn’t easy, even though she’d been to visit her grandmother countless times growing up, because each house looked exactly like the next.

Finally Johanna recognized something or other and they managed to find the right place.

“Last one on the left,” she said. Ricky tapped the accelerator and they sputtered down the street. At the fourth or fifth house, they passed an old man watering his lawn. He was bald as an egg and stood in a bathrobe and slippers, spraying the ankle-high grass. Johanna turned to look and he seemed to stare back, though he couldn’t have, she realized with a small shock, because his eyes were a perfect milky white.

Ricky hung a sharp left into grandma’s driveway. He cut the engine, got out, and kicked Johanna’s door open. Their shoes hushed through the dry grass to the porch. Johanna rang the bell and waited. When there was no answer she banged on the door, thinking maybe the bell had stopped working.

“Maybe she stepped out,” Ricky said, grinning and pulling Johanna close. “Hot date.”

“Go ahead and laugh,” she said as he kissed her. “But she’s not good in the head. Something might’ve happened.”

The quiet was making her anxious. Johanna stepped away from Ricky and fetched the extra key from its hiding place in the bushes. “Wait here.”

“Hell I am. Why?”

“Because you’re six-five and have green hair and my grandma doesn’t know you and owns lots of guns.”

Ricky shrugged and stuck a wad of tobacco in his cheek. He went to stretch himself on a lawn chair as Johanna unlocked the front door and stepped inside.

Even in the fading light she could tell the house was a disaster; it looked like it’d been ransacked by thieves. Johanna’s heart sank. Grandma had really, finally lost her mind. Johanna called her name but heard nothing.

Then saw a gleam of light from the backyard. Running through the screen door, she found a flashlight abandoned in the grass, its beam pointed at the woods that edged her grandmother’s yard.

She shouted for Ricky and a moment later he came tearing around the side of the house. Right away he noticed something she hadn’t: a long mean-looking slice in the screen door. He let out a low whistle. “That’s a helluva cut. Wild pig coulda done it. Or a bobcat maybe. You should see the claws on them things.”

A peal of savage barking broke out nearby. They both traded a nervous glance. “Or a dog,” Johanna said. The sound triggered a chain reaction across the neighborhood, and soon barks were coming from every direction.

“Could be,” Ricky said, nodding. “I got a .22 in my trunk. You just wait.” And he walked off to retrieve it.

Sweat trickled down Johanna’s face. It was dark now. She picked up the flashlight and stepped toward the trees. Her grandma was out there somewhere, she was sure of it. Something seemed to guide her, a quickening in the chest, a whisper in the viscous air, and suddenly she couldn’t wait another second. She tromped into the underbrush like a bloodhound scenting an invisible trail.

She spied a narrow corridor of freshly stomped palmettos not far away. She stepped into it and shone her light around; the leaves were splattered with something dark. Her throat went dry. Steeling herself, she began to follow the trail. The farther she went, the more her stomach knotted, as though her body knew what lay ahead and was trying to warn her. And then the trail of the flattened brush widened out, and Johanna saw her.

Her grandma lay facedown in a bed of creeper, her legs sprawled out and one arm twisted beneath her as if she’d fallen from a great height. Johanna thought surely she was dead. Her shirt was soaked with blood, her pants were torn, and one shoe was missing.

Johanna ran to her, hands shaking, eyes watering, breathing turning harsh. She sank to her knees and pressed the flat of her hand against her back. The blood that soaked through was still warm. Johanna could feel her breathing ever so shallowly. She slid her arms under her and rolled her onto her back. Grandma’s eyes were glassy but the real problem were the gashes across her midsection. Johanna nearly fainted.

She heard Ricky shout from the backyard. “I’M HERE!” she screamed. Johanna looked down at her grandma again and noticed she was mumbling something, shifting between English and Polish.

“I don’t understand,” Johanna cried. “Grandma... Grandma, I don’t...”

Grandma’s eyes seemed to focus on Johanna, and then she drew a sharp breath and said, quietly but clearly, “Go to the island, Yehanan. It’s not safe here.”

“No. We’re fine. Grandma, you’re going to be fine. You’re going to-”

“Go to the island,” she repeated. “You’ll be safe there. Promise me.”

“Grandma-”

“Promise me, Yehanan.”

“Okay. I will. I promise.” Johanna closed her eyes; her tears were blinding her.

“I thought I could protect you,” Grandma said. “I should’ve told you a long time ago…”

“Told me what?”

“There’s no time,” she whispered. “Find the bird. In the loop. On the other side of the old man’s grave. September third, 1940. Emerson... the letter. Tell them what happened, Yehanan.”

With that she sank back, spent and fading. “No, no, no... Grandma... Please...” But then she seemed to disappear into herself, her gaze drifting past Johanna to the sky, bristling now with stars.

A moment later Ricky crashed out of the underbrush. “Oh man. Oh Jesus. Oh Jesus,” he kept saying, rubbing his face with his hands. He babbled about finding a pulse and calling the cops and did you see anything in the woods?

The strangest feeling came over Johanna. She stood up, every nerve ending tingling with an instinct she didn’t know she had. There was something in the woods, all right: she could feel it.

There was no moon and no movement in the underbrush and yet somehow Johanna knew just when to raise her flashlight and just where to aim it, and for an instant in that narrow cut of light she saw a face that seemed to have been transplanted directly from nightmares. It stared back with eyes that swam in dark liquid, furrowed trenches of carbon-black flesh loose on its hunched frame, its mouth hinged open grotesquely so that a mass of long eel-like tongues could wriggle out.

Johanna screamed and then it twisted and was gone, shaking the brush and drawing Ricky’s attention. He raised his .22 and fired, pap-pap-pap-pap, saying, “What was that? What the hell was that?” But he hadn’t seen it and Johanna couldn’t speak to tell him.

She dropped the flashlight, covered her mouth with her hands, took a step back, tripped and fell on her ass, too terrified for any other reaction. And then she must’ve blacked out because Ricky was shaking her shoulders and calling her name and that was the last thing she saw.

#hollowgasts #miss peregrine #fanfic #dfcrosas #the second soul #sophie lowe #fem jacob portman #johanna roseberg #peculiar children #supernatural

[jess-irenes-fics]

As Close As I Will Get To Loving You

This is my submission for @riversong-sam fairytale mashup challenge. My pairing is Sastiel, this is my twist on The Prince and The Pauper and Snow White and it is inspired by this song As Close As I’ll Get To Loving You by Aaron Tippins. Hope y’all enjoy it. 

Warnings: language, feels

Summary: Step brothers Sam and Dean Winchester grew up in very different lifestyles; Sam being raised by his grandparents, working hard, not rich. Dean, grew up on the other side of the small town, in a two story home, the lavish life with his parents, a silver spoon in his mouth, popularity, sweater vests, never having to lift a finger. They went to the same schools, and they were actually fairly close, in high school Dean met Cas and they began dating. Now they’re grown and things began to come out into the open. 

“Sam, could you close up?” his grandfather asks, tossing him the keys to the gun shop. “Sure thing” Sam smiles catching them as his grandfather walks out. “Hey Sam.....” “Yeah?” “....Your ma and I have been talking.....we are old...you have kept this place running....and, we want you to take over” “Wow....I mean....I don’t know....I work in a few places” “I know son, but think on it, good night see you tomorrow” he pats Sam’s shoulder and leaves. Sam finishes cleaning and then closes walking outside. Across the street under the streetlight he sees Dean and Cas. They were holding hands and smiling, nothing new there, Sam sighs.  He waves and Dean gestures for him to come over.

“Hey Dean....Hi Cas” “Hello Sam” Cas says hugging Dean’s arm, Dean smiles. “How was work?” “Slow at the shop, nothing unusual...I’m on my way to my shifts over at Meg’s jewelers and then I have to go to my shift at Bobby’s automotive” “Wow, having to work like that must suck” Dean says. Sam shrugs, he didn’t mind. “So....how has dad been?” “So annoying” Dean rolls his eyes. “Earlier I told him I needed just $500 to get some work on my lambo, he said no, that’s why we’re walking and I’m scuffing up my new dress shoes. Y’know?” 

Sam raises a brow and holds back a laugh. “No,not really.....how have you been Cas, I’ve been busy but I think about you” “....you work for Meg?” Cas asks. “Yeah,why?” “Come on Dean” Cas says, throwing his nose in the air and walking off down the street into the night as they walk down the downtown main street.  Sam sighs, then walks to Meg’s. 

“What are you doing here?” Sam is asked as he enters Meg’s jewelers store. “Um....Ruby, Hi, I have a shift. Seven to closing I thought” “Oh, well she bumped me up to manager and I changed the schedule.” “alright, well when should I come back?” Sam  asks, his hands going into his jean pockets. “Half past never, you’re fired.” “Fired? Why?” “You’re late a lot for starters and you just have too much going on” “Yes, I know Samuel is sick, and I work two other jobs and I have school, but I always try to be here.” “why do you have so many jobs Sam?” “To pay for school, you know that Ruby” “Why don’t you just ask your dad or your brother for money?” “I’ll just go.....” Sam says walking out. 

He stops leaning against the outside of the store, main street wasn’t exactly crowded but it being a very small, tight knit town if there were just a few people out at this time of the day it was busy enough. 

“Sam!” he turns seeing his friend Jess with Charlie Bradbury and Joanna Harvelle. “Hey guys” he smiles. 

“it’s weird to see you outside of the shops and not in one working” “Yeah uh....I just finished my shift at the gun shop and when in for one at the jewelers and apparently Ruby was bumped to manager, and I got fired” the girls hug him. 

“Anyway, what is everyone doing in town tonight? I just saw Dean and Cas” “Awww~ I heard Dean wants to pop the question soon” Charlie says excitedly. “We’re just hanging out, while Jess is town” Jo answers. “Why does Dean have to be gay~” she whines, leaning on Charlie’s shoulder. “It’s alright, I’m gay~” Charlie smirks. “Yeah, and you’re engaged. Stupid Dorothy. Stupid sweater vests, stupid Cas” Jo continues. Charlie and Jess roll their eyes. 

“Hey Sam, since you don’t have work, want to hang out with us?” “Dean’s going to-oh, uhm....thanks but I’ll let you ladies have a girl’s night, thank you though” Sam says smiling. 

“Okie, bye~” the girls walk off, linked arm in arm, turning to wave goodbye at Sam, he waves back smiling. Sam sighs, thinking of what to do. He decides to call Gabriel for drinks. “Gaberiel” 

“Sam~ Sam Winchester~ Hi Princess~ You hate me why are you calling?” “Yeah I do, I was wondering if you wanted to come meet me down at Ellen’s bar for some drinks?” 

There is a moment of silence and Gaberiel’s tone changes. “......sure, we can talk Sam.....but, I have to bring Luci and Micheal” 

Sam groans. “Fine....alright....thanks” “sure thing Princess~” “Stop calling me that!” Sam hangs up. 

“Hey Sugarlips!~” Gabriel says as he walks into Ellen’s bar; his black leather jacket with studs on the shoulders, black ripped jeans with cuts in the knees, black Chuck Taylor’s All Star’s all working to make him stand out, along with his long blonde hair that went to his hips. Sam was already sitting down with his first or second beer. He wasn’t really caring to count. He flashes Gabriel a bitch face. “Sugarlips?” “You said stop calling you Princess” he smirks but then his eyes roll to the back of his head, he runs a finger through the top of his hair, then reaches outside the door. He grabbed the color of a white t-shirt covered in grass stains and dirt, being worn by his eldest brothers Micheal and Luci, neither of whom looked pleased, and he tosses them into one of the booths. “Shut up, Sugarlips needs to talk” 

Sam looks over at the angry brothers, both covered in scratches and dirt. “the get along shirt again?” he looks up at Gabriel. “Yep~” he smiles taking a Twizzlers from his breast pocket and eating it. “You know one day they’re going to kill each other?” “God I hope so~ I’m running out of Excedrin.” Gabriel says taking a seat by Sam at the bar. “And studs?” Sam asks, a brow raised. “Anna got to my jacket, I love her” he says proudly. “You’re a good big brother Gabe...” Sam smiles. “How is Anna anyway?” “Good, she starts preschool soon and adores your step brother” 

“Speaking of him-” “There we go, I knew it~” Gaberiel says as Ash brings everyone rounds. “Thanks Ash, does Ellen know Jo is in town?” “That’s why she isn’t talking, another mother-daughter spat, Jo’s father and yours just struck another big business deal and he is buying Jo a car, she doesn’t think he should just give it to her” Ash explains. “Well damn Ash, why don’t you tell them I’m on my period too? Since you’re putting our business everywhere!” Ellen, who had been washing dishes with her back turned to everyone,turns to finally snap at Ash who just chuckles. Pamela just rubs Ellen’s back.  

“EWW!! WE DIDN’T NEED TO KNOW THAT!!!” Sam, Micheal, Gabriel, and Luci all speak together, covering their ears like children. 

“Anyway, about Dean” Gabriel says bringing Sam back to their conversation, after sharing a bro nod of approval with Ash. “Nice mullet~” “Nice mane~” and Ash walks to the back of the bar. 

“......well, I just got fired from Meg’s and.....the girls told me that he is thinking about proposing to your step-brother” “Good for Cas and Dean~” Gabe says eating another Twizzlers from his pocket with a smile. “Glad to see my little bro happy-...oh, Sam, I’m sorry dude” the sincerity of realization in his voice and sadness in his eyes becomes obvious. “......Twizzler.....?” he offers Sam. “No. Thanks.” 

“Pay attention to me~!” Luci calls from behind them. “No Shut up!”   Everyone in the bar responds. 

“I have done nothing but pay attention to your needy whiny asses all day when we egged Bobby’s place!!” Gabriel snaps. 

“You egged Bobby’s?!” Sam glares at him with wide eyes. 

“Heh~ sorry Sugarlips, you won’t tell the old geezer will ya?” “Yes! I can’t afford to be fired from another job! Anyway, I gotta go, I have a shift in the morning over there” Sam gets up to leave annoyed. 

“Wait, what time?” “eleven A.M” “Good~” Gabe makes him sit and drink until he finally starts giggling. 

“You are really mean~” Sam points at Luci. “You-You’re annoying” he points to Gabe, then it was Micheal’s turn. “You are,well you’re just a prick” he says, almost serious, not giggling. 

“And you’re drunk, let’s get you home so you can sleep Princess Sugarlips” Gabe wraps Sam’s arm around his shoulder. He then grabs his brothers by the color of the get along shirt, dragging them behind to Samuel and Deanna’s place. 

“Gabriel” Samuel answers the door, annoyed. “What are you and those two hoodlums doing at my house” “Bringing Princess Sugalips home~” Gabe smiles and steps inside, dropping his sleeping brothers and carrying Sam to bed before coming back and grabbing the collars again. “Night Samuel~ wait, I smell cake?” “Deanna just made one” “Don’t mind if I do~” Gabriel walks into  the kitchen and helps himself. Dropping his brothers again, they let out a groan but they were so shit faced they were just cuddling and sleeping on the floor and couldn’t care less, still in the get along shirt.  

“That’s it! Get out!” Samuel throws the sleeping ones out onto the doorsteps before pushing Gabriel who grabs the cake tray carrying it with him because it was all he currently cared about. “Later~” he drags his big brothers home with one hand, the cake in the other. 

The next morning Sam gets up and walk’s over to Bobby’s. Bobby was outside pissed, obvious by how he was holding his flask and drinking from it. He noticed the eggs. 

“Damn it! Oh hey boy, wouldn’t happen to know how this happened would ya? I tell ya, my morning is going great, started with damn bastard Crowley next door coming over and waking me the hell up by ringing my damn doorbell in the shortest damn ladies bathrobe, I mean get shit faced and kiss a man one time and he thinks you’re a couple. It wasn’t my fault, Roofus made that batch! I mean, I did invite Crowley but never again. Oh, speaking of which, you’re off tomorrow,  I’m going to my high school reunion with the cranky bastard” 

“With Roofus? Thought you hated him” “I do, we do” “He is the cranky one?” Sam asks, a brow raised and a grin. “Hell yeah, I’m a sweet little snowflake. Anyway, who’s ass do I shoot so many bullets into that they shit ‘em for a week? I know you know” “Gaberiel, and-” “Lucifer and Micheal” “His name is Luci-” “I know what I said boy, go on and start cleaning this crap up. How has your morning been?” “I was bent over hugging a toilet” “Glad to see you’re finally enjoying yourself” 

“Hey Bobby....that Dean’s lambo?” “Yep~” they walk over as Dean steps out of the shiny car, wiping grease and oil off their hands to rags. “Hey Bobby, Hey Sam, dude, you look like shit....hangover?” “Mhm~....guess John forked out the dough, what to do you want done?” “Uh, just pimp it out, add some rims, whatever you think would make it look good. Oh, Bobby, dad says I have to get a job, can I work here?” “I guess, I mean I know you can work on cars, right?” “Oh yes sir, you taught dad well and he taught me” “Yeah, alright, start the in a few days” “Thanks” Dean leaves with a smile. 

Sam chuckles and whispers. “Hey Bobby, watch this...”. 

“Dean! You got some dirt on your shoe!!” Dean jumps to immediately check before dusting off his shoes and flipping Sam the bird. “I’ll just pick my car up next week” 

Sam and Bobby share a laugh and go on working. Dean begins working there and to Sam’s surprise, he actually was pretty good at the job, and didn’t mind getting dirty. The next week rolls around and before they know it the lambo was done. 

“Alright, I’m clocking out bro, taking Cas out in my nice ride~” Dean says as he gets in and waves goodbye to Sam. Sam watches him roll away, he had tried to tell Cas of his feelings before but it was pointless,so he just sighed and figured it was too late. Dean and Cas were going to get married and there was nothing he could do. 

“Alright Bobby, I’m gonna head home, get some sleep before class tomorrow” “Okay, later boy” 

Sam was walking out as his phone rings. “Hello?” 

“Sam Winchester?” “This is he” “You were the contact for your brother, he and a Castiel Novak Christ are being checked in at St Naomi’s Memorial, they were in a terrible car accident, I am sorry but your brother is in a coma” “I’ll be right there, and Cas?” “He has seemed to have lost some memory but he has been saying he wants to see his best friend, you” 

Sam hangs up and runs to the hospital to be with them. After some months he misses his bar exam and drops out, all the money he gets from the gun shop he decided to take over when Samuel passed and Deanna, took her own life, Sam puts towards the hospital bills for Dean and Cas, it turns out Dean’s mother Mary couldn’t give two shits less about her son as long as John spent his money on keeping her happy, which he was whipped and wrapped around her finger so he would. Everyone thought John would have been better off with Sam’s mother Jody, but, she passed just after Sam was born from the affair. It had now been two years, Dean had not woken up and Cas was still in the hospital, thankfully with Sam’s help, he was almost walking again and he wasn’t paralyzed from the waist down as they said he would be. He was also gaining his memory back, for some reason he just didn’t remember Dean. Sam didn’t try to bring that memory back because he was enjoying his time with Cas.  

“Sam” a nurse comes to the door, smiling. “You’re going to be glad you didn’t pull the plug, Dean’s awake” 

Sam looks back to the nurse. “Really?” “Mhm~, go on and see him” 

Sam rushes to Dean’s room. “You didn’t pull it” Dean says weakly. 

“No....” “thanks....” “no problem....saw that your life was just as shitty as mine, in it’s own way.....and Cas is doing good. He is almost walking again...and he has almost all of his memory back.” “.......can I....see him?” “yeah....” 

Sam goes back to Cas’ room where Cas looks up at him. “Hi Sam” he smiles. “Hi Cas” Sam smiles back, he knew his time was up. “Dean is awake.....wants to see you” “Dean?” “You will know him when you see him” he answers, lifting Cas up. Cas hugs him. “Thank you Sam, I would never get out of bed without you, you are the best friend I could ask for” “............yeah”. With that he helps Cas walk to Dean’s room. 

“Dean” Cas did know him immediately, and he smiled, his eyes lighting up with a sparkle. 

“Sam....” Dean points to a corner, Sam walks over. There it was, the ring. He brings it over to Dean. 

“Cas.....I don’t know....if yo-” “Yes, Dean” they share a smile and Cas reaches over grabbing Dean’s hand. 

“We’ll....I’m going to call everyone, I’m sure they’d want to know.” Sam says, forcing a smile and leaving. He calls everyone from Ellen’s bar. 

“Wait, Dean is awake?” Ellen asked excitedly. Sam nods. She and Pamela rush out, leaving Sam alone there. 

The next month or two go by in a blur for Sam, and before he knew it he found himself sitting outside the gun shop in a chair,  cleaning a gun as everyone else was at the church, for Dean and Sam’s wedding. He just watched. 

I have trouble tagging some folks so I will tag a few @oneshoeshort @percussiongirl2017 @fallenangelsneverfade @frickfracklesackles @emoryhemsworth @ordin93 

I know there were more who wanted to be tagged and I am sorry, but that is why I said to follow and subscribe in my previous post https://deans-treasure-fanfics.tumblr.com/post/168048809615/my-fics

[curliesallovertheplace]

The New Princess - chapter 11

Pairing: Dean x reader, modern prince!Dean AU

Summary: You look exactly like the princess of Genieve who is promised to marry the prince of your country, Prince Dean. But what happens if the princess doesn’t want to marry him and meets you, her look-a-like?

Words: 4100ish... This got out of hand, but I did have something to make up for.

Warnings: nada

A/N: Hiya friends! The series is back and I hope this time without a 3 month break. In this time I reached 1300 followers (like what? You guys are insane!) so consider this extra long chapter as a celebration and as an apology for my awful timing skills. I hope you enjoy this one and make sure to leave a like and a comment if you liked this chapter! Love y’all!

Previous chapter    |    The New Princess Masterlist

The double doors creaked as Jo pushed against the wood, tiptoeing into Ellie’s bedroom, followed closely by Charlie. You hadn’t answered either of their calls, their attempts to wake you up being met by silence. Both of them were getting worried something was wrong. Maybe you had left, tired of this whole circus. What they didn’t expect was the sight before them. There you were, sprawled out across the mattress, fast asleep, still fully clothed.

“Jesus, Y/N, what happened?” the blonde shrieked when she came to a halt at the foot of the kingsize bed.

At her outburst you woke up, only now registering their presence in the room. “Shut up,” you grumbled into your pillow. Your new friends kept whispering back and forward rather loudly, prompting you to throw a cushion in their general direction.

“That was uncalled for,” Charlie replied and she catapulted the object right back at you. An irritated sigh left your lips as you sat up straight. The bright light of the early morning blinded you and you blinked a couple of times, your vision clearing up. You felt disoriented, the gears in your head spinning, searching for memories of yesterday evening and how you had gotten into bed.

That’s when your gaze landed on your body, clothes still on. “Why am I still in my clothes?” Charlie snickered at the frown forming on your face. “Ugh, and what’s that smell?” you questioned until it clicked in your head. “Oh wait, that’s me.” Both of your friends burst out laughing at the disgust written in your features, their shoulders shaking uncontrollably.

“We kinda wanted to ask you how you got in this situation, but you don’t remember apparently,” Jo stifled her laughter and sat down on the edge of your bed. “Maybe you drank a little too much?” You scoffed at her question, a scowl on your face.

“Alcohol? Not with Alexandra’s new diet,” you mumbled as you swung your legs over the side of the bed. “I can’t help it my boobs are bigger than Ellie’s. Why should I have to suffer? All I want is some decent food but no! That’s too much to ask for.”

Jo and Charlie frowned at your monologue, not following your train of thought. “What did we miss?” the latter asked cautiously, your morning mood putting her on edge.

“During the fitting Ellie’s dress didn’t quite fit me for obvious reasons and because my sizes were very different from the real princess’s, Alexandra has put me on a strict diet,” you sighed.

“Sucks,” Jo muttered.

You shrugged your shoulders. “Not much I can do.” Your gaze looked around the bedroom until your stench reached your nose again. “I’m gonna shower because I’m getting nauseous of my own body odor,” you stated and made your way for the bathroom.

Under the steady stream of water, the tenseness in your shoulder slowly washed away along with your horrible morning mood. As you stood there, your thoughts mused over the blackout from last night. The last thing you remembered was listening to your classic rock playlist in the garden of the palace, zoning out while looking at the stars. After that it was all blank. Shrugging your shoulders you blamed your faulty memory on your occupied mind, probably to busy with processing all of the events of the past week to notice you walked back to your room.

Once you were done with your shower, you dried yourself off and put on your bathrobe, calling for Jo and Charlie. They helped to make you presentable, the redhead hoisting you in a simple dress, the blonde applying a little bit of make-up and blow drying your hair. 

All ready for breakfast you returned to the main room, but stopped midstep as your eyes landed on the tray at the dining table. “That-” you started, your finger pointing at the bowl. “-is not food.” You eyed the beige porridge warily. “It looks like someone already ate it.” Your friends tried to maintain their composure. They did feel bad for you, but your reactions were priceless.

“It’s-It’s not that bad,” Charlie smiled weakly, hoping to lighten up your mood. You sighed, but sat down in front of the bowl and picked up your spoon. You scooped up a little bite and nibbled at the substance. It tasted the way it looked: horrible. Your mood turned sour again and the girls were quick to excuse themselves, leaving you and your lovely breakfast alone.

As you poked at the oatmeal in the bowl, you heard some commotion behind the door. Charlie sounded surprised as did Jo, before a deep voice joined the conversation. You shrugged it off and continued to stir the unappetizing breakfast around, contemplating if you could build a mini castle with it. When the creaking of the door startled you, you looked up, meeting Dean’s gaze.

“Euhm… hi?” you frowned, the oatmeal instantly forgotten. You dropped the spoon and turned your full attention to the man before you. His standard suit was replaced by a more casual style and boy oh boy did he look good in his outfit, the flannel hugging his biceps, his strong thighs accentuated by his jeans, combat boots, a leather jacket in his hand. You zoned out for while and ordered yourself to focus on his words.

“Hey, how’s my sleeping beaty doing?” the Prince grinned, but all you did was furrow your brow, silently asking for an explanation. You weren’t a freaking mindreader. “You fell asleep in the garden while listening to some music. Classic rock, great taste.” He winked at you and his laugh boomed in your ears when you buried your face in your hands. Yep, you did it again, Y/N, you scolded yourself. Keep embarrassing yourself like that, awesome tactic.

“But how did I get in here then?” you asked him.

“I carried you inside, no biggie,” Dean brushed it off and continued talking, rushing to his next words. “Get dressed, we’re going for a drive.” He threw his car keys in the air, catching them easily.

“I’m dressed,” you deadpanned while you motioned at your dress.

“I like the band shirt better on you and it’s less noticeable. You know, paparazzi.” You shivered at the last word and nodded your head. 

Once in the bathroom you pulled your shirt out of the laundry basket and sniffed it before bombarding the fabric with perfume and deodorant. A couple of minutes later you came back out, your dress swapped with a pair of jeans and a band t-shirt.

Dean gives you a thumbs up. “Come on, let’s go,” he grinned. You followed the Prince closely as you snuck through the corridors of the palace. Low voices could be heard in the distance, rapidly approaching you. The royal pulled you with him into another hallway and into a room the size of a closet. He placed a finger over his plump lips, shushing you. The voices faded away and he peeked through the crack of the door. He stepped out of the confined space and signalled for you to come with him. After a few minutes you finally reached the garages without being caught by a guard or any other staff member.

Dean traced his finger over the hood of a black car, her paint shining under the artificial lights. “She’s beautiful,” you sighed as you stepped over to the passenger side. “Is this the car you rebuilt?” He nodded his head proudly, making you smile. “You did an awesome job at restoring her,” you praised the Prince who leaned against the top of the car.

“She sounds even better,” he smirked and slid into his seat. You followed his move, settling into the leather cushioning as well. The engine came to life as he turned the key and the low rumble of the Impala soothed you. “Ready?” the Prince asked, his eyes shining with mischief.

“Oh hell yeah,” you replied and with a push on a button the garage opened. Dean pressed down on the gas pedal, speeding of onto the gravel road around the palace.

You heard people yelling behind you, but their voices were drown out by the tires crushing against the pebbles. The commotion made you turn your head and your eyes widened. A few guards were running after the car, motioning for the driver to stop. The royal just pushed down harder and the wheels of the Impala gained speed.

“Dean,” you swallowed the lump in your throat. “Maybe we should slow down.” The Prince only smirked and the speed went up just a little more, the car racing towards the closed gate and several guards. “Dean, stop it! You’re going to hit them!” you shrieked. You smacked his upper arm when he just laughed. You didn’t share his amusement.

“We’ve been through this game plenty of times before. They’ll jump out of the way like they always do,” the Prince said confidently. Right before you were about to crash into the guards and the gate, the metal bars started to move and all of the staff rushed away from the moving vehicle.

“Jesus, Dean!” you gasped, your heart beating out of your chest. His hearty laugh made your body relax and soon you were chuckling with him. “How were you so sure?”

“I may or may not have done this a couple of times,” he shrugged. “The first time the guards jumped out of the way, but the gate didn’t open so I crashed into it. The front of the car was covered in scratches but the gate was wrecked.” A smile formed on his lips at the memory. “My father was fuming when I came home, but I didn’t care. I just loved the feeling of freedom, of being able to drive anywhere I wanted without people telling me what to do or following my every step.”

“After a small scandal King John ordered every guard to just open the gates if I ever pulled that stunt again. Of course I did it again.” You laughed at his words, shaking your head in disbelief. You remembered when the idiot crashed those gates. It was all over the news. Crown Prince gone wild! Future leader out of control! Is the Prince of Boldovia ready to rule our nation? The topic even made international news. Great publicity for your country of course.

The royal pulled you out of your thoughts. “Hey, could you pull out that box?” he mumbled and pointed to the flooring of the car.

You nodded your head as you reached for the plastic container. Your fingers traced the cassette tapes, flicking through the different album titles. “Can I pick one?” Your voice sounded all giddy when you noticed your father’s favorite band pop up.

“Hell yeah,” Dean responded. “As long as it’s not Vince Vincente, I’ll be fine.” Your fingers wrapped around the cassette of Lynyrd Skynyrd and quickly popped it in. Dean nodded his head approvingly. Not long after the first notes of Sweet Home Alabama sounded through the car and both of you were mumbling along with the lyrics, chanting the song towards the end.

Your stomach rumbled over the music, making him frown. “Didn’t you just have breakfast?”

“Did you see what was on my plate?” you retorted a little grumpy. You were the worst on an empty stomach. “Queen Alexandra has put me on a diet for the wedding,” you explained.

“Ouch.” Dean shivered in his seat at the mention of the word diet. “Wanna break it?” he grinned at you. Your eyes mimicked the mischievous glint in his, prompting him to wheel his car around and head back to the city.

“Which fancy place are you taking me to?” you pried with your most innocent voice.

Dean shook his head, his laugh lines coming through. “Just the best place in the world.” Your mind worked over the different possibilities, listing up every diner and restaurant in the capitol until your eyes landed on the big burger sign. Panic rushed through your veins, a lump forming in your throat. Mike’s Diner. Calm down, you shushed yourself, he might just drive by. The car slowed down and he parked the Impala right in front of the diner. Shit.

“Let’s get you a burger,” he grinned as he got out of the car. The Prince leaned back down when you didn’t budge. He quirked an eyebrow. “Not fancy enough for your royal highness?” The tone of his voice as he said the title was mocking.

“Uh-No!” you rushed, trying to level out your breathing and not look like you were about to pass out. “It’s totally fine. I’m coming.” Dean nodded and walked to your side of the car, your eyes following his form through the front window. You searched for a valid excuse to not go inside, but your mind stayed blank. As the Prince opened the door for you, an idea came to mind. “Maybe we should just get take-out. I mean, there must be some spot where we can picnic. It’s more fun than some diner and the weather is really nice,” you rambled on.

“Yeah, sure,” Dean frowned. “Anything you want?”

You thought over the different options. Every burger Mike made was like a little taste of heaven. You were about to ask for the Angel’s burger when you remembered you’re not supposed to know any burger on the menu. “Surprise me.” The royal nodded his head, musing over what he would get you.

“I got an idea,” he smirked and strode over the sidewalk, stepping into the diner.

“Ellie needs to get married, fast,” you mumbled to yourself. You averted your eyes from the Prince and sighed. Every minute you spend with him, you felt yourself getting closer to him and if you were being honest, that thought scared you. This wasn’t going to last forever so why stretch the inevitable? Oh and you better not ponder over the consequences if you get caught. Well if, more likely when.

Your eyes drifted to Dean. He was slumped down on a stool, trying not to seem too out of place or like he was going to rule the people in the diner and this country one day. And even like that, him sitting there like a sack of potatoes, he still managed to make your heart jump, looking handsome as ever. In a suit he looked like a freaking model and that leather jacket definitely did things to you.

A grin spread on your lips when Mike came out from the back. His white apron was smeared with grease streaks just like any other day and you swore you could hear his hearty laugh as his body shook with joy. Your favorite burger maker handed the Prince a plastic bag, containing what would be your best meal this week. Oatmeal, blugh, burgers, yummy!

A smiling Dean stepped out of the diner again with the white bag in hand. He placed your orders in the backseat before getting back in and starting up the Impala. He glanced at you, silently asking where.

“Take me to your favorite place.” It was a simple request yet it made his eyes twinkle with excitement.

“Yes ma'am,” he grinned, putting his car in gear and taking off to wherever.

The whole ride not a moment of silence had fallen between the both of you, going from subjects like the weather to politics to who’s the best rock band. To Dean it was Led Zeppelin, but even though they are phenomenal, they weren’t your all time favorite.

“No, the guitar riffs are way be-” Your words stopped once the car came to a halt. Dean had parked the Impala at the edge of a small lake surrounded by a forest. “Wow, it’s so calm and peaceful,” you gasped. The spot was right out of the city, yet you had never stumbled upon it. Maybe it was one of the royal house’s properties.

“Yeah it is,” he sighed with a soft smile tugging at his lips. “Come on, I’m hungry and the car has been smelling delicious the entire ride.” A chuckle left your lips and you quickly pushed open the car door, Dean following suit.

The royal pulled out a blanket out of the trunk and draped it over the hood of his car. You waited for him to get the burgers and hop on the plaid, before you jumped up next to him.

He ruffled through the bag, opening a white foam box before handing you the burger. “That’s the Crown Prince for you,” he started. “And the Elvis for me.”

“A little egotistical, don’t you think?” you snickered.

“What? Like you don’t want to have a taste of me,” Dean smirked. You scoffed at his words, but couldn’t help getting all flustered. To hide your rosy cheeks you took a bite from the burger, nodding in approval at the taste. Not as good as your burger, but still very delicious.

“I have to admit you do taste pretty good.” His laugh boomed across the valley.

“Sweetheart, you have no idea,” you heard him mumble before taking a bite as well. You nearly choked on the piece of meat still in your mouth, coughing in the process. An amused grin spread across the Prince’s lips and you decided it was best to leave his comment, focussing on eating your burger without suffocation. “You okay there?”

“I’m f-fine,” you stuttered, your gaze remaining on your food.

Halfway through your meals Dean opened up a couple of beers and handed you a bottle. You took a swig, the liquid calming your sore throat. Thanking him you glanced over at the royal beside you. His mouth opened wide the accommodate the size of the burger, his teeth sinking down into the buns. “Want a bite?” he asked with his mouth still full.

“Gross, but yes.” You took the burger out of his hands and eyed it carefully. How are we gonna do this gracefully?, you wondered. You shrugged your shoulders, deciding to just go for it. “Is good,” you mumbled around the huge bite in your mouth.

The Prince laughed, throwing your previous comment right back at you. “Gross, but yes.” You glared at him and punched his arm, placing the burger back in it’s box. “You know, normally I don’t share food, but for my wife I’ll make an exception.”

In an attempt to hide your feelings, you rolled your eyes. “Cheesy much,” you chuckled, hoping you would sound cool and not panicky or down. All kinds of emotions rushed through your body, guilt making way for sadness to that little glint of hope at hearing the words ‘my wife’ leaving his lips.

“Ellie,” Dean called out for you. He waved his hand before your eyes until you snapped out of your thoughts.

“Just the wedding,” you waved it off. “It’s very stressful.”

“Well, I do have something to take your mind off of that extravagant political event. But it’s a surprise,” he grinned. The Prince glided off of the front of the Impala and strode to the backseat. You shifted towards the edge of the hood and turned your head, squinting your eyes, trying to peek through the front window. “Eyes closed, sweetheart,” Dean smiled as he held a box behind his back. You rolled your eyes but followed his order nonetheless. He shuffled around the car, halting in front of you. The weight of the box rested on your upper thighs. “Open ‘em,” he murmured.

Slowly you peeked through your lashes and quickly your gaze shifted towards the smirking face of the Prince before you. “Pecan pie,” you smiled. If he only knew how much you loved Mike’s pecan pie.

“Hell yeah, pecan pie!” Dean exclaimed. You laughed at his enthusiasm. He jumped back onto the hood and placed the box between the both of you. “Here you go,” he mumbled as he handed you a fork.

“Thank you,” you said before you both plunged your fork through the thick crust. You moaned as the flavours swirled on your palette. “This is the best decision you’ve ever made.” At those words a content smile spread across the Prince’s lips and you both took another bite from the desert. Once you finished the pie, you leaned against the windshield, gazing at the beautiful sight in front of you, continuing your classic rock argument.

Suddenly clouds appeared, the bright blue sky vanishing behind the upcoming grey. Even though you should get back into the Impala with the rain coming closer, neither of you actually moved.

“It’s going to rain,” you whispered, scared to ruin the moment. Dean hummed beside you. “We should probably get back.” His reaction was the same. As you turned your head to look at the man lying beside you, his eyes locked with yours. You felt a strong pull towards him, but kept your distance.

When the Prince closed the distance between you, a drop of rain landed on his cheek, making his nose scrunch up at the sudden cold splash. You had to admit it was the most adorable sight you had ever seen. The moment of awe disappeared as the rain gradually intensified until water was pouring down on you. A chilly breeze passed the both of you and made you shiver, tiny dots spreading over your flesh.

“We should get in the Impala,” Dean said as his hand rubbed across your arm, trying to warm you up. You sat back into the passenger seat and gratefully took the blanket he offered you. “Now let’s see how large King John’s wrath will be,” he mumbled.

“Or Alexandra’s,” you piped in as Dean manoeuvred his car back onto the road.

The gates of the palace opened before you and the car rolled past the castle to the garages. A woman stood in the middle of the Impala’s parking spot. You recognised her to be Jody and the look in her eyes was far from the gentle and sweet one you remembered.

“You need to stop doing this, Dean,” was all she said as she turned on her heel and marched off into the maze of corridors.

“Jody, come on,” the royal pleaded. He took off right behind her and motioned for you to follow him. “You know I need-”

“Yes, I know, Dean!” she cut him off, turning around to face him. “But that doesn’t mean I agree with what you do. It’s my job to keep you safe and I can’t do that if you just run off whenever you like. I’ve watched you grow up and it would break my heart if anything happens to you. So please, at least warn me when you’re feeling that itch. I’ll follow you and make sure you’re safe, but I’ll keep my distance.” Dean was eyeing the red carpeted floor, his focus on the floral design in the tapestry. “Promise me, Dean.” Jody said in a firm voice.

“I promise,” he mumbled as he looked up at her. The woman furrowed her brows in disbelief. “I do,” he insisted and gave her a side hug, rubbing her back to calm her down.

The head of security pulled back and gave him a soft smile. “Now go to your father’s office. The King isn’t happy with your antics.” At the mention of his father Dean’s face turned serious, the warm glow in his eyes disappearing almost instantly. He waved you goodbye before leaving to face King John.

You stood there in the corridor with Jody, an awkward silence building up. “You make him happy, Princess Elizabeth,” she grinned. “He might not say it, the stubborn idiot, but I know the kid and it’s been a long time since I’ve seen him like this.” Her words made blood rise to your cheeks, your head turning bright red, but your shyness was soon replaced by guilt. It wasn’t just your feelings on the line here and that thought slowly sunk in. “Just don’t encourage him to do anything stupid like nearly crashing his car.”

“I-I didn’t,” you stuttered.

“I know, Princess. He’s just trying to impress ya,” she winked. “Now go to your room. Queen Alexandra has been nagging to me all day, telling me I’m shit at my job for losing sight of you.” You scoffed at her words and rolled your eyes at the behaviour of Ellie’s mother.

“Well, if she wanted me to stay, she shouldn’t have put me on a freaking diet,” you replied. Jody bit her lip to not burst out laughing. You made your way to your room, wondering how pissed off Alexandra could be. You’d soon find out very.

Next chapter

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[businessthreesixfive-blog]

Varanasi: Modi Won A New Fort In 2014, His Hold Over It Still Seems Firm

The city of Varanasi appears to have a twin presence. The lanes of Hinduism's holiest city are witness to the tussle between old, crumbling structures and nouveau, cool ones, where yoga classes are advertised alongside tutorials on spoken English and saffron bathrobes of monks blend with saffron t-shirts of food shipment young boys. It is the city described in Kedarnath Singh's Hindi poem: "Agar dhyaan se dekho/ To yeh aadha hai/ Aur aadha nahin bhi hai/ Jo hai weh khada hai/ Bina kisi sthambh ke/ Jo nahin hai usey thaamey hai." (If you look carefully, half the city is there, half isn't. What's there stands without a pillar, held by what isn't there).

On a November night, the ghats of Varanasi are peopled by a motley lot-- single folk and couples, young and old, residents and immigrants, individuals aiming for moksha and college trainees-- a bustle of life removed from their death-haunted principles. Guy poised on podiums carry out aarti, hymns from loudspeakers helping the performance. Boats move on the darkening waters of the Ganga, illuminated periodically by the firing of flashes from phone video cameras. One questions if the eyes of the faithful imbue the spectacle with spiritual significance.A group of seniors discuss the predicament of the Ganga. "I utilized to swim every day. However in 2015, I informed her, 'Hey Maai! Ab tu hamare bas ki nahin' (Oh mom! You are beyond me now)," says Bhawani Dutt (60 ), who makes a living by performing spiritual rites. One recommends that dismantling dams on the Ganga alone will have an astonishingly cleansing effect. A 2nd believes that the city's population and the release of sewerage in the river should be checked.Pollution in the Ganga has increased in the past 4 years regardless of almost Rs 4,000 crores spent by the Centre. Prime Minister Narendra Modi, who won the Lok Sabha seat from Varanasi, had made a clean Ganga among his key project guarantees. Inquired about this, Dutt, a Gandhi cap on his head and tufts of hair standing out from his ears, states:"We have had three PMs of effect since Self-reliance: Lal Bahadur Shastri, Vajpayee and Modi. The latter is an honest man, but just how much can he do alone?"Others discuss Modi's Swachhta(cleanliness)project, the underground electrical power wires being laid in the city and the construction of various halls.Crores were spent, however banks of the Ganga are filthy Photograph by Suresh Pandey Taking a walk with a buddy at the Assi Ghat is

20-year old Saurabh Tiwari, who runs a backpackers'hostel."Ninety per cent occupants of my

hostel are Israelis, since Modiji has established new relations with Israel, "says Tiwari, and takes out his phone to show a poster of an Israeli movie festival bearing a photo of Benares."That's how you promote tourism. Plus, the ghats are much cleaner; two machines work at night on the river, cleaning all noticeable waste, and the city is getting gas pipelines. "Silk loom workers suffer an increase in rates and traders talk of a fall in demand, however are broadly encouraging of Modi.As the night techniques, the crowd on the ghatsthins out. Boatmen and chana masala sellers count their day's earnings and dogs comb the location for leftovers. Sitting around with her spouse,

Arati Pandey, an assistant professor of museology at Banaras Hindu University(BHU )states,"As a resident, I don't believe civic amenities like traffic guideline or healthcare have improved. I can see the BJP for what it is. There is simply talk, extremely little work."Yet she acknowledges Modi's pull with the masses: "Whenever the PM comes, street suppliers are shoved out of sight. If you ask them who they'll vote for, they still say Modi. " The PM is near at hand, too. A signboard near the BHU's entryway prominently brings a solemn-looking image of Modi, with a message congratulating him for winning the Seoul Peace Reward and Champions of the Earth award." You have upped the eminence of this nation ... The nation is proud of you, "the message reads.Discontent, however, flares within. A professor of history at BHU blasts the federal government for imposition of Central Civil Solutions Conduct Rules on instructors in a supposed effort to muzzle criticism."If I can't be important, am I even a teacher?"she asks angrily."What's more saddening is how most teachers are untouched by this diktat."Furthermore, she is contemptuous about how BHU is run."Lady students were beaten with batons for protesting a case of molestation ... No one has been brought to account for the assault and they are extremely disheartened,"she adds.About 25 km from the city is Jayapur village-- adopted by Modi under the Sansad Adarsh Gram Yojana. 2 banks have actually appeared on the road leading to the village. Something akin to a bus stop looks new. In Jayapur, at a khadi-weaving unit, 75 ladies work and make anything in between Rs 1,000 and Rs 3,000 a month. Solar-powered streetlights were set up too, however the batteries of many were stolen.Jwala Prasad Singh( 80), a homeowner, states except for new roads, much remains the exact same. "When we found out about the adoption, we believed factories will come. Our children still wander about jobless,"he states. Jwala likewise wonders why a regulation for the construction of Ram Mandir in Ayodhya isn't materialising. Nevertheless, he feels that

Modi is doing a good task, and other locals of the town concur.Benares is an ancient bastion of the silk market. Most silk tradesperson lament the drop in organisation, while workers bemoan how rates of whatever-- from thread to spindle-- have gone up, other than their incomes."The GST caused trouble, however eventually it will be beneficial. If we do not pay the federal government anything, how will the country run? The Mohammedans here believe differently,"says Kishalay Banerjee(63

), a trader.However, political leaders of different colors are bitterly crucial of the PM." Modi did not pull off any task by winning. This has actually been a BJP seat since ages. Even in 1960s and 1970s, when the Jan Sangh would fail to win even a single seat in entire Purvanchal, it would still win this seat,"says Shiv Kumar Singh(65 ), a retired political leader as soon as with the Samata Celebration."You [Modi] campaigned here saying Ma Ganga has actually called you, however the Ganga Putra [Ganga's child] died on a quick," states Shiv, describing environmentalist G.D. Agarwal, who passed away on a quickly, requiring

a clean-up of the river. "You can't tell Indians what to eat and use. And what contribution do you have in the Independence struggle? Those who do not have a history are now out to alter history!"he fulminates. Subodh Ram, a BSP member, states Modi has actually made nationwide politics appear like a town brawl: "He keeps doing you-did-this, you-did-that. Arrey bhai, what did you do? "In spite of discontent resembling blemishes and blisters on the surface, Modi appears to be have held his appeal intact in Varanasi, a city suspended permanently between a neo-Hindutva and ancient Hinduism, in between the grossly patent and the transient, in between what shows up

and what's not.By Salik Ahmad in Varanasi

[cranberrybogmummy]

The storm that rocked the universe chapter 2.

The Master grinned wider and clapped his hands. “Well, well… so Time Baby sent someone? Couldn’t waddle down here himself? That tells me one thing, I succeed and you…. fail.” The Master ended by picking up a small grey metal and yellow cylinder. “Let’s see what I can do with my laser screw driver—“

“—Wait! Y-you c-c-ant get away that easy-“ Blendin-Morty began adjusting his gun.

The Master casually raised his laser screwdriver and zapped him, there was orange glow of light, a puff of smoke, a sizzle and where Morty-Blendin stood, nothing but a heap of grey dust.

“—Looks like I did,” The Master said in causally cheerful voice. “Anyone else wanna go against me? Now where’s the lab?”

The Pines family began to yell at once.

“—Let’s just see how tough you are without that screwdriver!”

“-I’ll show you, I’ve got my grappling hook!”

“-We defeated Bill, we’ll defeat you!”

“—You are mad and I won’t help you!”

“SHUT UP!” The Master Screamed over all of them. “You do know if you try anything, anything at all. HE-“ The master pointed at Soos. “-Will suffer! So will his Nan, and his girlfriend! I’ll make all of you watch!”

There was  sudden hush.

Melody looked at them with tired, scared eyes, but Soos’s and Abuelita’s expressions were blank and lacking any sign of recognition.

“I’d like to see ya try!” Stan shouted.

“Would you?” The Master chirruped. “I’m not going to hurt them myself. No, too messy. Jesus will, I’ll make him rip his Granny and Melody limb from limb and slit his own throat! All I have to do is give the word, Stanley and he’ll obey. You want to test me?”

“We won’t let you!” Mabel shouted.

“Yeah!” Added Dipper

“The youngest of Pines family, so brave, so clever, and yet so DUMB,” The Master said. “You may have defeated Bill with kittens, tickles and memory gun. But I’m made different stuff, and I don’t fall for schemes. You’ll all die and this place will burn, if I don’t get help.”

“You can’t threaten us!” Dipper said.

“You wanna bet?” The Master raised his laser screw driver and aimed at Dipper and Mabel

“STOP!” Ford shouted. “I’ll help you, just—don’t hurt any of them. I know what you are, and I suspect when you contact Bill you can get us out of here, before he takes his revenge.”

Mabel gasped, Stan swore and Dipper scowled at Ford.

“Jolly good! I knew you’d come around! I might just have room on my TARDIS for some staff, understood?” The Master said with a  wink.

Ford looked worried and sad, he bowed his head. “Yes.”

“Now show me your lab and the journals!” The Master commanded.

“Very well,” Ford said and walked out the office door. The Master followed, in two or three minutes Ford returned alone.

“He’s in the lab, I told him I was getting the journals. Looks like he doesn’t know where the statue of Bill is or that the journals have been destroyed. We’re going to be fine, I just need to stall him a little bit and call someone who can help.”

“Who?’ Dipper asked.

“Exactly.” said Ford. “Ah, well he actually doesn’t like that name anymore….”

~~~~~~~~

The Doctor could hear River singing the shower as he sat on the bed adjusting his bow tie and putting on his socks. It had been fun, but in his body he still wasn’t entirely sure why River was so mad for it really. He could go without for decades… but it had been  well—interesting—  and she’d let him wear his fez and everything! In the distance he could hear the TARDIS phone ringing faintly but persistently. River has stopped singing, the shower had stopped, and the phone kept ringing.

“You’d better answer that Sweetie,” River called from the Shower.

“Yes, I was about too—“ The Doctor began.

He got up and ran haphazardly into the console room. The phone gave one last ring then stopped.

“Oh, that’s unfortunate.” The Doctor said.

“Listen to the voicemail sweetie,” River said, she was behind him draped in a red silk bathrobe and nothing else.

“Right voicemail… voicemail…” He pressed the right button and a recording began.

“Doctor, this is Stanford Pines. I don’t know which of you this will reach or when I’ll reach you… you said if I ever needed help to call on you.  There is a timelord in the Mystery shack he calls himself The Master and what he wants to do threatens the very fabric of the of the universe!” Ford  said.

“The Master but he was —“

“—well he’s not anymore, is he?” River said.

The message went on: “You will  need help—“

“Help? I’m the Doctor!”

“— Contact Sanchez, he is involved in this somehow or will be, hopefully for the better, I saw a version of  his grandson, appear at the shack. The Master must have killed him but maybe with both of you working together— The Master’s coming back. I must leave.”

That’s when the cloister bell in the TARDIS began to ring wildly. Ford was right the very  fabric of reality was at stake!

“Right to the Mystery Shack!” The Doctor said, and started for the controls

River was already there pushed buttons and puling levers. “No, we have to get Rick first.”

The Doctor made a frustrated noise and flapped his hands. “No. We. Are. Not. Rick Sanchez is impossible! He only looks out himself! He can’t be trusted! Besides he has some kind of invisible barrier around his house, the TARDIS can’t get through!”

The TARDIS shook and made a painful grinding and screeching noise, River and the Doctor braced themselves on the console. The shaking got worse so the did the noise. River pulled a lever on the console back to the edge, holding there with a grimace and all of her strength. The console began sparking, and the TARDIS seemed to scream. That’s when it came to a juttering, stuttering, halt. Everything was normal for a fraction of a  second, then it fell with the noise of splintering wood and a solid thud. The Doctor found himself on the floor, underneath River.  The impact was enough that he saw lights in front of his eyes, his head hurt and his joints felt painful, being a timelord  this quickly wore off. River had righted herself, brushed off the dust, straightened her hair, fixed her make up and stepped out. The Doctor shoved his dislocated arm back in the socket, straightened his jaw and followed her his face set in a scowl. A redheaded teenage girl in a pink tank top and white pants was standing in the door frame looking bored, phone in hand. A short teenage boy with brown hair in yellow t-shirt and blue jeans stared at them looking just as non-plussed.

“Hello Morty and Summer, I’m River Song and this is Doctor. Could you get you’re grandfather for us?”

“Awww geez, We just fixed the roof, ya’know,”

“You mean Grandpa Rick right? And not our Dad’s Dad, because you weirdos never specify.”

“Aren’t you a sarcastic young lady.”

“I didn’t just crash my phone booth, through the garage roof.”

“It’s not a phone booth, It’s a Police box… errm it’s not that,  well it’s a TARDIS actually,” The Doctor said tugging on his bow tie in smug way.

“Yeah, whatever,” Summer didn’t seem impressed. “Grandpa Rick is passed out somewhere.”

The Doctor let go of his tie and looked slightly sad.

“He’s on the sofa,” Morty mumbled

“Splendid, it’s been a long time since I saw him,” River said. “You know I was almost your grandmother,”

“Ewwww,” chorused Morty and the Doctor. And they began to walk through the house.

Rick was indeed passed out on the sofa, surrounded by empties, snoring, drooling, sprawled out haphazardly, still out like a light. Morty gave him a shake.

“Wha… Morty… leave me alone…juss leave me alone.” Rick muttered and rolled over.

“Rick, there uhhh people here to see you,” Morty said.

Rick turned back over, rubbed his eyes and looked at them steadily.

“Why are you still with this loser, River?” He muttered.

River gave him a poisoned smile. “You never had a chance, you know.”

“Yeah, I know….” Rick  muttered, looked at the Doctor. “He’s  now…what a twelve year old with no eyebrows now?”

“Hey! You still owe me 20 blimfarks!”

“So? You we’re cheating, besides you got me fired from UNIT and deported!”

“You we’re spying on us for Torchwood London!”

“You we’re jealous cuz Jo dug me.”

“Was not! Anyhow, I rescued you in Colombia!”

“‘Rescued’ yeah, you destroyed my lab, my work, and killed my boss!”

“You were making a clone army of super soldiers!”

“Yeah, I needed the money.”

“You were working for a DRUGLORD!”

“So? I was going to find a way.. to  sabotage it… then you had come along, blond, crickety with that ginger twink and that Aussie Bitch!”

“He wasn’t! She…. well she was bit of a… yeah…”

“Why the fuck are you here?”

“Well darling, you remember the Master?”

“…. the camp and crazy timelord?”

“Yes.”

“Why is HE darling!”

“Because sweetie, he is. Now getting back to what I was saying…”

“….The Master is up to some scheme, whoop-de-fuck. Why should I care?”

“Because he’s in Gravity falls!” the Doctor chimed in.

“…yeah so, it doesn’t mean anything?”

“Because he’s going to summon Bill CIPHER!” The Doctor shouted. “AN ELDER-GOD! THE VERY FABRIC OF REALITY IS THREATENED!”

“…There are other realities, why should I care?”

“You think they’ll stop at this one?”

“Hmmmm good point. But still not caring…”

“A version of your grandson, was seen, briefly by our source.It looked like he’d come back from some distant timeline and….”

“Me?” Mroty Started. “W—w-what do I have to do with this?”

“It was version of you Morty.  Could be some other Morty.”

“I told you River, he’s impossible!”

“River, why are you still with this loser?”

“He actually cares about things, Rick.”

“So? if he wants to save reality, he should talk to the other timelord.”

“The Master but he wants to destroy everything.”

“Not the Master, duh.”

“Then who?”

“You don’t know… wait...he really doesn’t know… fine I’ll show you.”

Rick pulled out his portal gun.

“We are not doing that, we can take  the TARDIS.” The Doctor said.

“That heap of junk? This is much more reliable, it’ll actually get us we’re we want to go.”

“I don’t want leave her here, you might steal her or dismantle her for parts.”

“No. I wouldn’t steal that ancient shitbox if you left by my door.”

Rick aimed the portal gun and zapped out a glowing green portal.

“Summer, we’re going to ‘save reality’ you wanna come?” Rick called out.

“Naw, sounds dumb,” Summer called back.

Rick, Morty, River and reluctantly the Doctor stepped into the green swirling vortex.

They stepped out into a bland office corridor.

“Where are we?” Morty asked.

“Hinteracorp, one the -urp- cutting -urp- edge bio-chemical firms.”  Rick said and took a pull from his flask.

“Yeah, I’ve heard of them… but why are we here?” The doctor asked in bored fashion.

The logo hung on a door in front of them, River looked at it and then back at Rick and the Doctor.

“…You really don’t know, Sweetie?” River asked. “Look at the door.”

The Doctor stared at it puzzling, then it hit. “The Rani! She’s still alive! How did she… Why did she…?”

“…because the time war sucked.” Rick said then belched.

The door also read: ‘A.Hinter CEO.’

“Why don’t you ask her?” River said sweetly.

“Right! I will!” The Doctor  charged into the rather mundane looking executive office, only real relief from the boring grey, white and black decor was  large potted ficus in the far corner of the room.

Two women looked up, one was tall of Indian descent with arrogant eyes and high cheek bones, dressed in a burgundy pantsuit with shoulder pads  The other was short, black, her hair in afro puff ponytails and dressed in shades of pink and blue.

Rick pressed a button on his portal gun.

The elegant woman glared at them: “WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE!?”

“YOU KNOW!” the doctor roared back.

“NO I DON’T! I’M GETTING SECURITY!”

The other woman seemed to inch away.

“Hang on…. “ the doctor passed and listened for the sound of two heartbeats, he could one from that woman. “….You don’t know who we are….”

“NO!” The woman screamed. “Why aren’t security here?”

The Doctor listened again, he faintly two heartbeats, coming from the direction of…. the little woman he took for the assistant. “…RANI”

And the small black woman who was frantically trying to open a door on the ficus plant turned to him, a resigned expression on her face.

Her new voice was high and squeaky. “Oh, bugger.”

#Doctor who #Gravity falls #Classic who #Rick and Morty #Fanfiction #Fanfic #Crossover #eleventh doctor #Simm!Master #River Song #Mabel Pines #Dipper Pines #Stan Pines #Ford Pines #Abuelita Ramirez #soos ramirez #Melody #rick sanchez #Morty Smith #Summer Smith #The Rani #Blendin #Uhhhhhh yeah....