#I needed that!! smoking the brain bees out as we speak

[castielsbeeslippers]

updated : 4-25 -21 Part I Part 3

Après By imogenbynight🖤word count: 24,045 This fic is so special to me 🥺

Slow Drip By MonsterShow 🐝🖤word count: 5016Cannon!Verse and coffee shop? Sign me up!! This fic is so lovely 🐝

Everybody needs the light : Opal_bullets🖤word count : 46502 ( pre-cannon fic) !!! I’m absolutely taken by it 🥺💕so beautiful !

According to all known laws of life By Sobsicles🖤🐝 word count :29727 I’m in love with this fic ! It’s got the perfect balance of angst and humor , emotions ! And it’s got the bee movie what more can I ask for ? 🐝💛

Evangelist by emmbrancsxxo ✨🐝word count : 334398

File under fic’s that have changed me !!!! I’m so happy I read this fic ! It’s so well written and hit me personally in ways I didn’t expect !!! Such a must read !!! This au is so awesome !

Oh sooner or later it all comes down to faith by Sobsicles 🖤word count : 62240

This fic really did something to me , re-wired my brain ! I love it ~ a very good take on heaven endgame !

Ascend By quiettewandering🐝🖤❤️word count : 50002

Absolutely marvelous! I can’t get enough !!!! A fix-it-fic to fix all fics ! A absolute king ! 😌

Sinnerman by a_good_soldier 🖤🐝word count : 10846

This is a fantastic read !!! An awesome character study 📖 tackling some good issues ! Wonderfully written !

The Dean Winchester Beat sheet by Saltyfeathers✨🐝 word count : 144488

I honestly should’ve read this a long time ago! I’m so happy I did ! A must read au 💛🥺

Purgatory, directors cut by runsinthefamily 🖤🐝word count: 23722 Such a beautiful and well put together take on purgatory I absolutely loved it and it’s got true!form Cas ! 🖤

The rough By Anactoria 🖤🐝word count : 3267 This fic lives rent free in my head , I always think about the last few paragraphs! Legend Dean ✨😭

Advanced reader copy by omniscientoranges word count : 1572 🖤❤️

I just loved this fix-it fic !!! Ft. Carver Edlunds books (aka chuck )

One flash of light (but no smoking pistol ) By Spiderglass🖤word count : 6980 Wonderful road trip / hunting trip fic with such beautiful music / details 💛

The Purple Shield by blackimpala 🖤🐝word count : 69437

Oh I loved this so much! A beautiful case fic 🥺

We’ll find a new home By sleepyvan 🖤word count : 7859

This fic is so lovely ! Dean’s cooking and of course the Costco talk! I love the writing!!! ✨✨

Good one’s gonna be by remmyme🖤✨word count : 37124

Season 3 Cannon verse cannon au ! I adored this fic! It’s got cute texting and a wonderful tie in ~ I loved it 💛

The Closer the Star, the Greater the Parallax by rocksalts🖤🐝word count : 8732

Wonderful read I loved the conversation ✨✨✨✨😌and the whole thing was just fantastic

The best bang for your buck 🐝🖤word count : 5787

This fic was so funny and well done! I had to put my phone down and yell out loud at how it all went down! Loved it !

Entertaining strangers 🖤by cadugnan word count : 9046

*has Cas / others ~ but Dean is I and I am Dean in this 🤪this is well written holy heck! CAs getting some loving he deserves !

Holding Water With Weighted Wings by HarmonizingSunsets🖤 ❤️word count : 19810

If you want heaven endgame ! This is for you ~ I really loved the writing in this !!! I cried a few times reading it !

An accidental incident by tlakht🖤word count : 5034

Oh 😳this was something special!

Young hearts🖤🐝 by Teen_Dean word count : 57130 ( cannon - divergent )

This is wonderful fic ! We got time travel and a heart warming story ! I’m so in love with it ~

And neither do you 🖤❤️By callsigntango word count : :37257

I adored this take on the empty and everything that followed !

Angel in black 🖤by dothraki_shieldmaiden word count : 95325

I loved this cannon divergent take ! Really sucked me in the dynamic between Dean and Cas is so fun ~

Basic lessons in first aid , magical or otherwise By Stuffy_j ✨🐝word count : 54174 I love this fic ! It’s got such a nice story and it’s magical ✨🖤

Checked out by Whelvenwings ✨🐝word count : 27127 I adore this fic !!! It made me cry! Librarian!Cas , Author!Dean ✨💛

Pour it on me , Darling by Casbean✨word count : 2508 Waiter!Cas And Dean is on a horrible date. So cute !!!

The knights and thier bees by Niitza ✨🐝Word count : 54985 I love this fic !!! I had it saved for a while since it’s long ! But it’s so worth it ! Beekeeper!Cas 🐝✨so fluffy and well written.

The knights and thier bees extras by Niitza ✨🐝word count : 10899 A fantastic follow up 💛✨

A Fish out of water by Malmuses ✨word count : 64903

a beautiful and well loved fic ! We’ve got wonderful storytelling and fantastic art from lizleeships! Fantastic Mer!Cas and a Hunter!Dean 💛

The Complete works of Emanuel Allen by Violue  ✨ word count : 1805

I loved this so much!!! And it’s follow up stories ~ Writer!Cas holds a special place in my heart !

300CC by ✨🐝LanaSerra, spandwiches word count: 87257

Loved this !!!! Poet!Dean and Poet/Writer Cas 🥺my beloved dorks ! Very creative ! I loved the play “ Free will”

Honeymoon 💛 by @joharvele

Good morning 💛 @starrynightdeancas

Old pine 🌲💚 @dreamnovak

Everything’s going to be fine @xylodemon

Enjoying the view @smiledean

Wings @i-dont-even-wanna-know

Speak to your heart in silence upon your bed @one-more-offbeat-anthem

The first time it’s an accident @one-more-offbeat-anthem

Trope @saltnhalo

A house on the rock @outpastthemoat

I’m not bothering you am I? @dothwrites

There is a void within Castiel @thisisapaige

All that glitters ✨By followingbutterflies

I’m really enjoying this fic!!! I believe it’s almost finished 🐝✨

The pull of us 🖤by shelikestv

Been following this !! Love it ! 🖤👀

#destiel #deancas #cillabee ficrec #Destiel fic rec #destiel fic #deancas fic #destiel fanfic #destiel fanfiction

[worminstuff]

The Balcony of the Treehouse Pt.5

sleepy bois x reader au

warning: cigarettes and smoking

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

“Tommy no! Leave Tubbo alone!” Phil scolded his son. Tommy was currently tugging on the straps of Tubbos overalls, and Tubbo seemed a bit annoyed.

Sam chuckled at the two boys, shaking his head. “He's alright, he’ll tell Tommy off if he needs to.”

Phil nodded, “right.”

“What's got you all stressed?” Sam asked, his face full of worry for his friend.

Phil and Sam became really close friends after Tommy and Tubbo seemed to really enjoy being friends. They were like dad pals! Phil loved having a friend that was also a father so he had someone to talk things only another dad would understand.

“My older ones are going through this weird teenager thing and i want to help them i just don't know how.'' Phil sighed and looked down at his coffee.

“Ah okay, well did they fight or?” Sam asked him.

“Sort of. Techno and Wilbur both have..feelings..for y/n, I think. And I think it's really only affected Wilbur in the worst ways so far.” he took a long sip of his coffee.

“Well has he gotten to talk it out yet?”

“With me, yes.” 

“How about with Y/n?” Sam said, pointing a finger at phil.

Phil looked up at Sam, suddenly realizing something.

“No, but that might be a good idea. Surely I can't sit them down to do it though that would be far too awkward, right?” Phil was racking his brain for ways to fix this dilemma.

“Why not just give them some time alone and see if they'll fix it themselves? They are teenagers”

“But I can almost never get Techno away from Y/n and Wilbur would never talk with Techno there..” Phil leaned back, almost defeated.

“Or! How about Techno comes and meets Bo? I feel like they would get along well and techno wouldn't be home. Y/n can babysit? Maybe you could even ask Will to help her?

Phil grinned wildly at Sam, “You my friend, are a genius!”

Sam laughed, he was about to thank Phil when suddenly there were yells from near the front door.

“Calm yourself rugrats!” Y/n was laughing as she was getting bombarded by tommy and tubbo both of them excitedly jumping around her.

As she walked through them to the table with Sam and Phil, the boys followed closely.

“Morning! Are we having a dad meeting or?” she pointed at the two of them.

“Sort of.” Phil laughed. “Do you and Techno have plans today?” Phil asked, Y/n looked up from the small boys tugging at the flannel that was hanging loosely on her shoulder.

“No, not that I know of. Is he awake yet?” Y/n looked to the living room to see if he was sitting on the couch.

“He's still sleepin.'' Tommy said. 

Y/n looked down to him, “how about we go wake him up?” she said grinning, 

Tommy's hands shot up in the air as he yelled in agreement, running down the hall to Techno's room, Tubbo following behind him. Y/n shook her head with a small laugh, following them.

Once she made it to Techno's doorway, she barked out a laugh. Clutching her stomach she laughed as tommy and tubbo were jumping up and down on top of techno.

Groggily, he picked his head up, then his arm, and started spotting the kids. Tubbo and Tommy screeched, as he grabbed their feet, making them fall as he started tickling them.

“Okay now get out of my room.” he said as he nudged them off his bed. The boys slid off his bed, running from the room giggling manically. 

“Morning pinky.” Y/n said, still stood in the doorway. Techno groaned, falling back onto his pillow. He hadn't really slept that well and he very much wanted to go back to sleep.

“I think Phil has plans for us today.” Y/n said plopping down on techno's bed, laying sideways across his legs.

Techno grabbed a pillow from behind his head and slammed it on top of her. She grabbed the pillow and threw it back at him.

“I'm serious! He asked if we had anything planned.” she frowned.

“We don't.” he mumbled.

Y/n picked her head up and glared at him, “Not with that attitude! Get out of bed lazy.” Y/n picked herself up off Techno's bed and left, giving him some time to wake up. 

Back in the kitchen, Phil and Sam were listening to Tommy and Tubbo as Tubbo was telling Tommy all about his bee friend. (Tubbo found a bee in his backyard that morning.)

Just as Y/n sat at the table techno walked into the dining room groggily. He made his way over to y/ns chair standing behind it and poking her. 

“Up. get up” he mumbled, his morning voice gravelly.

“What why?” Y/n questioned looking up at him.

“I wanna sit. Move. make me breakfast.” Techno patted her hair annoyingly, there were no chairs left since there were only 5 chairs at the table.

“They really are best friends huh?” Sam joked, looking at phil. 

Phil nodded with a laugh as Y/n was reaching her arms behind her trying to hit him off.

“Speaking of, I have propositions for you two.” Phil said, turning his body towards them in a very dad like way.

“I'm listening.” Techno said, his hands pushing Y/ns head as she tried to pry his hand away.

“How about a day apart for once?” Phil said hastily.

Techno and Y/n froze, then glanced at each other.

“What for?” Techno's eyes were narrow, very suspicious.

Y/n dramatically put her wrist to her forehead, “Separate us?! How could you!” 

Techno looked down at her, unamused. She picked her head up and looked at phil. “I'm down. What we doin?”

Techno snorted a small laugh. She was genuinely the weirdest person he'd met.

Both the fathers laughed at the pair for a moment. They acted like siblings.

“How would you feel about meeting my son today? Sam said, looking at the pink haired boy. Tubbo perked up hearing his father talk, thinking it was about him.

“He's right there, I've met him.” Techno said in a very obvious tone as he pointed at Tubbo. Tommy stood up in his chair trying to bite the finger of his older brother as it was only inches from his face. Techno retracted his hand quickly looking at Tommy with a disgusted face.

“Not that son, Tubbo has an older brother and he's your age.” Sam said.

Techno nodded and shrugged, “Sounds..fun.” he was hesitant. He wasn't fond of people that weren't..Y/n. 

“And Y/n, we were wondering if you'd babysit while we all go.” Phil said, placing a soft hand on Y/n’s shoulder. He knew what she was about to say,

“Alone? Both of them?” Y/n looked to the boys who both gave her award winning grins, looking almost innocent. She narrowed her eyes at them jokingly and they giggled.

“Okay fine. BUT,” she looked up at techno who was still standing behind her chair, “You have to promise you won't be weird.” she looked at Phil pointing an accusing finger,  “don't let him be weird.”

Phil chuckled and nodded. Him and Sam continued their previous conversation, trying to think where to take the boys.

Techno rested his arms on the back of Y/ns chair as he was about to start nagging for breakfast again, when Tubbo got to her first.

“Y/n do you like bees?” Tubbo asked her.

Y/n smiled, slightly confused. “I do...why?”

“We like bees.” Tommy said.

“We?” Techno chimed in.

Tommy rolled his eyes and stared at techno with a taken aback expression as if Techno had asked the most stupid question he could come up with.

“Don't look at me like that.” Techno rolled his eyes and gave Tommy a flick to his nose. Tommy gasped, very offended.

Y/n laughed loudly as Techno learned off her chair standing straight so he could go make himself some breakfast.

“You know, if you'd like, you can take them to your house.” Phil said as he leaned over to talk to her. He had a small fatherly smile on his face.

Y/n was confused, why would tubbo and tommy wanna go to her house?

“You've got all your paint, and stuff. Plus Tommy's never been there so it would be like a new adventure. You don't have to do it the whole time, Wilbur will be back in a while so you all can go do something when he gets back.” Phil shrugged.

“Hm..alright. Does he know he's gonna be babysitting?” Y/n knew Wilbur hated it when he didn't know where everyone was or people surprised plans on him.

“I'll shoot him a text, don't worry. Hey techno? Gonna be ready to go in a bit?”

Techno stood in the doorway upon hearing his name called, his hand on his stomach scratching and a piece of toast hanging out of the corner of his mouth.

“Nevermind. Go shower.” Phil said, shaking his head at his own son.

Techno rolled his eyes and walked through the dining room to go do as his father asked, like a good son.

Tommy slid off his chair and made his way over to Y/n, she looked down at him with a small smile. 

“What's up?” she said wondering why he's getting down from his chair.

“Are you gonna watch me and Tubbo today?” he asked

“I am yes” she raised her eyebrows

Tommy whispered, “We should get Tubbo a bee.”

Y/n  was confused, a bee?

Instead of questioning him, Y/n only nodded.

Y/n sat quietly as Tommy made his way back to his seat next to his best friend. She was sitting silently when she felt her phone vibrate in her back pocket.

She thought it might've been Techno asking for a towel or something weird, but she was very wrong.

Wilbur: So we’re babysitting?

It took Wilbur 13 minutes to compile that one message and send it. He spent five of those minutes staring at her contact name in his phone.

y/n: seems like it, is that alright?

Wilbur: course it is. Why wouldn't it be?

Wilbur watched as the typing bubbles floated above the letter keys on his screen before they disappeared.

y/n: no reason, just curious.

Y/n slid the phone back into her pocket since techno was back in the dining room, and behind her chair again.

Phil told her his whole shpeal about no fire and all that, let Wilbur do the driving if we go anywhere and to not let tommy and tubbo be alone for longer than 2 minutes. After assuring him everything would be fine, Sam techno and Phil left. 

Y/n looked at the small children who were staring at her expectantly.

“How do we feel bout an adventure?” she said making jazz hands.

Both boys cheered, “Okay then go get your shoes you gremlins.” she shooed them towards the door where their shoes were sitting beside the door.

Both boys clumsily sat on the floor and started putting their shoes on with Y/n standing and watching them.

y/n: what time are you gonna be back?

Wilbur: soon. Why? Is everything okay?

y/n: everything is fine, were just taking a walk to my house so

Wilbur: ill head over there when I get back then.

Y/n sent a thumbs up just as she felt tubbo tugging on her pant leg, she lent down to his level and he not so quietly whispered towards her ear.

“Tommy can't tie his shoe.” 

“He can't? Why didn't he say something?” Y/n whispered back, playing along.

“He's embarrassed” 

“I am not!” Tommy yelled as he heard Tubbo’s harsh whisper. Tommy was sat frustrated with tangled shoelaces in his hands.

Y/n sat on the floor in front of him detangling his shoe laces, and then showed him how she ties her shoes so he could try. Eventually he got it and they were ready to hit the sidewalk.

“I've never been to your house Y/n.” Tommy said. 

Tommy was on her left, holding one of her hands, and Tubbo was on her other side, holding her other hand.

“I know you haven't.” she said with a small chuckle.

“I didn't know you had a house.” he said

Y/n looked down at him, taken aback by his statement. 

“W- you- you didn't think I had a house? Where do you think I go when I'm not at your house then?” she laughed as she let go of his hand to grab her keys from her pocket once they reached her front door.

“Outside.” he said. He just thought she slept outside? 

She chose not to question him further since she was already confused by his child thoughts.

Once her front door was open, all three of them stared into her fairly empty house. All the lights were off, and there wasn't much furniture. But there was a sudden faint meow off in the distance.

Tubbo and Tommy beamed, running into the house.

“Cat! Where is cat?” Tommy said, looking at Y/n frantically. 

“Probably in my room, but he's shy, so don't be all crazy.” Both boys nodded at her, eyebrows down and faces serious. They were on a mission now.

She started her way to her bedroom with the boys following closely. Once they made it to her doorway, low and behold, there was a small ginger cat sitting on her bed.

On top of a certain sweater.

“Hey front door was open, I locked it but- oh cat.” Wilbur said, now standing behind Y/n.

Y/n sort of stared at him for a moment. He looked...she didn't know if she particularly wanted to say it... hot.

He was wearing black ripped jeans, a dark green crewneck and a black beanie and not to mention, he had eyeliner on. Eyeliner. It was smudged, but still neat. And it looked good. His hands were in his pockets as well.

“When did you get a cat?” he asked.

“Wilbur!” Tommy exclaimed, taking his hands off the cat on her bed to run and give his brother a hug. Wilbur placed a soft hand on his head as Tommy hugged his leg. His eyes were still on Y/n.

“I um.. I found him.” she said sheepishly.

“Do your parents know?” he said, eyes narrow.

“....no.” she winced. Wilbur sighed and shook his head. Tommy had let go of his leg and climbed back onto Y/ns bed with Tubbo to pet the orange cat.

“Well what's its name?” he walked into her room, and over to the bed, bending his knees to also pet the cat.

“I've” Y/n snorted, “I've been calling him bonk actually.”

“Bonk?” Wilbur looked appalled, but entertained.

“He bonks his head a lot.” she shrugged.

“Right. And..is this?..” he pointed to the sweater the cat was on.

Y/ns eyes widened. Wilbur laughed and shook his head. Standing up again. He walked past her a bit, tugging her arm a little so he could pull her into the hall.

“I really need to know, are you and my brother..serious?” he was hesitant.

Y/n thought really hard for a moment. “I don't..I don't fully know or understand..but i don't think we are. We haven't talked about it really.” she didn’t look into his eyes.

Wilbur nodded, he placed a finger on her chin so she'd look at him.

“Hey. don't..don't stress over it. And don't worry about me and him. Just worry about you and how you feel alright?” his voice was really soft, his eyes were moony. Y/n nodded. She was confused why he was so calm, as if he wasn't upset the other night at dinner, and the few days she hasn't seen him.

Wilbur's heart melted as he looked at her for a second longer. He looked over her shoulder into her room and at the two boys they were babysitting,

“I've never actually seen your room, you know.” Wilbur said as he watched Tommy scour around her room, looking for anything that caught his eye. He had a cd in his hand.

“You haven't? Really?” she asked.

“I've watched you climb out of it.” he smirked pointing to the window. Wilbur had helped her sneak out before, only once but it did happen.

Y/n shook her head, a strawberry like dust on her cheeks. Wilbur beamed.

Y/n was looking at his pants for a moment when she noticed a box in his front pocket.

She pointed at it and shot him a questioning look.

He kissed his teeth, giving her a knowing look. He expected her to be angry or something but she only looked away. As she glanced at her bed, Tubbo was laid next to the cat, his small hand resting on the cat's side. Both were asleep. Tommy was sitting on the bed, lazily blinking.

“You're both tired? Already?” her voice was soft, she didn't want to seem like she was mad or anything because if she could get those two to nap. She was gonna do it.

Tommy nodded, and she gave him a small nod. She grabbed two blankets and some extra pillows from her closet. She draped a small blanket on Tubbo, and another on Tommy once he laid back. She closed the blinds, so it was nice and dark and her and Wilbur slowly made their way away from her room.

She walked ahead of him into the kitchen, and hopped up on the counter. He stood across from her.

Wilbur looked around, “When was the last time your parents were home?” he looked at the empty living room.

“Which one?” she said softly.

“Either?”

“My mom was here like two weeks ago I think.” she kicked her legs back and forth a little.

Wilbur's eyes bulged a little. Two weeks?

“What do you do here then?”

“Um..sleep? And feed the cat? I don't know.. It's sort of nice. Really quiet, I can do whatever.”

Wilbur nodded, pulling the small box of cigarettes from his pocket.

“Is this alright?” he hesitantly asked, “it's fine if it's not.”

“No your good, just open the window.” she pointed to the window behind him above the sink. He opened the window and pulled one of the cigarettes from the white box, placing it between his lips as he lit it. Exhaling the smoke he inhaled.

He held it out to her and she stared at it for a moment. He took a step towards her, almost standing between her legs. 

“Have you ever..?” he tilted his head slightly. Y/n shook her head.

He set his hands beside her leg on the counter and took a long drag,  then flicked some of the ashes off into the sink. She stared at him, he was genuinely so gorgeous. 

“You look conflicted?” Wilbur leaned away from her. 

She nodded, “er..just a little. I'm feeling..nostalgic.” it was the only way she could describe how she felt at the moment without confusing him. Little her would be screaming right now.

“I think you should come with me when i go see my friends next time.” Wilbur said, looking into her eyes as he took another deep drag from the cigarette in his hand. She could barely pay attention to what he was saying.

“Why's that?” she tilted her head. Wilbur really didn't want to let himself get caught up in her again, but he couldn't help it.

He shrugged.

“It would be fun.” his grin was contagious.

She giggled as he blew a bit of smoke in her face, not nearly enough to annoy her or make her uncomfy. But enough to make her laugh.

Maybe it wasn't the worst idea to spend some more time with will.

#dreamsmp #dream smp #sleepy bois x reader au #sleepy bois inc #sleepy bois x reader #sleepy bois fanfic #sleepy boys inc #sleepy bois au #sleepy bois #philza #tommyinnit #tubbo #tubbolive #awesamdude #wilbur soot #technoblade #ranboo #wilbursoot fanfiction #wilbursoot x reader #techno fanfiction #techno x reader

[a-froger-epic]

Interview with a Queen “groupie”

Cross-posted to AO3. I encourage you to leave any comments you have there.

---

I compiled this interview following a long email exchange with J, a very sweet lady who went to Ealing Art School between 1972 and 1974. She knew all four members of Queen personally and was part of their larger circle of friends.

First off, you may find this hard to believe. I don’t blame you. But I assure you I’m not pulling your leg. As well as the pictures I share in this post, I have seen current pictures of J (which I will not share to protect her privacy). There is no indication as far as I am aware that she isn’t who she says she is.

Nastally, hold up. How exactly did you find this lady?

She found me. It turns out that she has been following my story Dawn of Aquarius for quite some time. The story is set in 1969. A lot of research about the era went into it, because I wanted to portray that time period - and Freddie’s and Roger’s surroundings - as accurately and realistically as I possibly could. That was what drew J in. She tells me it brought back a lot of memories for her. One of the reasons I love DoA so much is the nostalgia, she says, which genuinely means the world to me. Eventually, she talked to me in the comment section. Of course, I freaked out!

And then, I asked her for an interview, to which she replied: I will give it a go, but you must remember that I am 65 and there were great drugs in the 70s, and at 16, away from home, I had a lot!

And so...

Here’s what is IMPORTANT TO KEEP IN MIND when you read this interview.

These are one woman’s 50-year-old memories and subjective impressions. J has been incredibly kind to let me pick her brain, trying to recall everything as best as she can. In her own words:

Just remember that when I answer the questions, it is from a 16-year-old who is 9 years younger than Freddie and a little girl with no family and friends in a strange country trying to fit in. The only reason I was there, was because some hippie thought I had a unique art style.

---

J as a teenager.

[I have edited the interview together from our long, and somewhat messy at times, email exchange. Typos have been fixed and some punctuation added for clarity, but I have not changed anything J has written to me. Again, bear in mind these are personal opinions and impressions.]

So, J, how did you end up at Ealing Art School in 1972 and what was it like?

This was the painting done for the Australian school-leaving certificate.

It placed first and gave me a scholarship. I could pick France, the USA or England. As a dual citizen of the UK, the choice was easy. The scholarship paid for board and fees, so had to be and sell whatever for spending money.

This picture is from the dorm. We all had a 10pm curfew and a very thick rule book that, I am proud to say, I broke every one of them, one by one. The rooms were on the 1st and 2nd floor. We were on the first floor, rooms one side and admin staff the other end. We had two bathrooms for 18 girls. One of them had two baths. The walls were your standard half wall, so it was a given that if you had a bath you run the risk of having a bucket of cold water dropped on you. Downstairs was the kitchen and lounge room.

I want to ask you a few things about life in London in the early 70s, to get a picture of what it was really like. For example, was there alcohol at the music gigs you went to?

If it was a school, church or community hall, no. If it was a pub, yes.

Did you and your friends drink as much then as young people tend to drink now when you all went out?

No, we didn't. I think it had a lot to do with money. We didn't have the disposable income, and it was unheard of to still be living at home with the parents after the age of 20.

Was weed and LSD as big and easily accessible as depictions of the 60s and 70s would have us believe?

The drugs! Got to have drugs. Pot (weed) was easy to grow, very cheap. Used to smoke it in bongs rather than joints, more bang for your buck. Trips [LSD] were cheap, I think. About 2 pounds and you were on the high for over 24 hours with no sleep. My drug of choice was hash. Either the oil or the block. It was a nice high, but you could not function well. But if you listen to the music of the time it really does reflect what it was like, to have a group of friends over for a session. Having said all that the most outlandish and shocking drug I ever saw anyone use was the birth control pill. Didn't you have to hide that stuff away?!

Can you tell us some 70s slang that isn’t really in use anymore? What in the world does “ultra-blagging” mean? (As written in a letter penned by Freddie to his friend Celine in 1969.)

Abso-bloody-lootely!

Man, I thought I was the bees knees to be on a scholarship in London. But that didn't stop me from jigging or having a skive day. They were the days that I blagged my way into a pub, had too many lagers and ended up chundering in the gutter. That was how you knew your night was ace. I would get a right bollocking if anyone found out. It would be a bugger when all that you could find at a car boot sale was chavtastic, but sometimes you could be Jammy Dodger and tickety-boo you find something brilliant. Bob's your uncle. Anyways, I need to see a man about a dog.

[It seems to me that J uses a bit of Australian slang here, like chundering, which makes sense because she is, after all, Australian. She also provided the translation:]

Cheers

J

It would be my honour.

I felt very privileged to be given a scholarship that let me study in England. But being so young and having no family to guide me, it was often tempting to not turn up or give a false excuse for being sick. (I had a lot of food poisoning). These would often happen if the night before I had been drinking beer and ended up vomiting outside the pub. But in my young mind that was a good night. If any of the teachers found me drinking I would be in a lot of trouble. Often I would have to say I was holding it for someone else. Not having much clothes with me, I would buy them second hand from church jumble sales or other students and, yes, Kensington market (the market). Some of the stuff would not be very tasteful or in good condition. But sometimes you would find something that was cheap and in good condition. I will stop this text now as I must go to the toilet.

PS: Ultrablagging sounds very Freddie. Blagging was used, but not ultra, meaning to persuade someone to do something or act better than you are. They were always rock stars.

Sincerely

J

[It was at this point that I realised I was talking to an absolute legend. She also told me then that the majority of her old photographs had sadly been lost when her house was flooded in 1988, including most of the photographs from her stay in London. Noooo! :(]

When you went out to dance, did you have only live music? Were there DJs yet?

You know, that is hard. We did not have a DJ. Sometimes there would be a band. Often we looked for places with a band or the jukebox. I think pubs closed at 10pm and some stayed open to 12 or 1, but public transport stopped at 9. So if you had not arranged a lift then you had to make the last bus. Most of the time we would be heading back to someone's place to get stoned and then crash there. In the morning you would have to work out where you were. When I got back to Australia, the discos were all the rage. They could have been in London too but it was not cool to like disco.

How many people would show up to Queen’s gigs when they played in pubs or at, for example, the Imperial College?

Depending on the location and the night: 10 to 1000!

So how did you first meet the Queen boys?

I was at the pub talking about a band we saw last week when Brian stuck his head into our booth telling us he knew a better one. Thinking about seeing them at the stall... Roger not often, Freddie quite a lot. Often on different stalls, I think that is why I can't remember the name. [The name of the stall. Other sources confirm that Freddie also worked at Alan Muir’s stall, for example, selling shoes.]

How well did you know them?

Just looking at your tumblr account. [she has had a look at my blog, where somebody asked if ‘groupie’ meant she had slept with the band] No, I never slept with the boys. I would not say I was a close friend, but I started at Ealing Art College in ‘72 and moved in the same circles. I loved the music and could be called one of the first groupies. I had to sneak into the pubs because I was 16. Roger always teased me for being so young. They all did seem to be one very large family, not just the band. It was a group of about twenty regulars, both male and female. Everyone knew that Fred was too gay to function. We were all at the gay rights march in London in 1972, had to run after the march. Lots of sharpies [Australian slang: youth gang, thugs] wanting to bash us. Back then I was in every protest that was going, student union rights, even the secretary protest. Just part of the times, stick it to Man or Woman. I left London in ‘74 for Australia, been here ever since and lost track of the boys but have never stopped being a fan.

What do you remember about them? How would you describe their personalities?

Don’t let the trolls hate me, but I did not like Brian. I found him to be rather full of himself. Space was a subject you never brought up around Brian or you would die of old age before he stopped talking. He was always the first to speak and start a conversation and then quickly passed you off to John, who was always tired and shy. Roger was also quite shy at times. He was very self-conscious of his looks, as he felt being pretty, nobody would take him seriously. Fred, well, he was not yet the big star, so I think he was working on his stage persona. When talking to groups at parties, he had the best stories of things that had happened to him or close friends. They were very funny and very descriptive. He was the life of the party. When he had a few to drink or was the centre of attention, he would take a cigarette out of the closest person’s hand and start smoking. Now remember this is the point of view of a 16-year-old girl that was a fish out of water, trying to fit in and not having much worldly experience.

It is said that Freddie and Roger were very stylish. How did they dress in everyday life?

Fred would do his hair and makeup to check the mail. Yes, he was always turned out, but so were a lot of people. Freddie did go over the top with hats, scarfs and jewellery. With Roger, it is a surprise he was able to have kids his jeans were that tight. And his shirts were always open unless he was in a jumper. I think it could have been so that you knew he was male, as it was the start of the unisex clothing. When I travelled out of London I realised it was a London thing. When I got back to Australia everyone thought I was a show-off.

There are some disagreements about how tall especially Freddie was. I know this is a difficult thing to try and remember accurately. But do you remember?

Freddie was taller than me but everyone was. Roger was shorter than Fred, but I never saw Roger in platform shoes. I did meet up with the band by chance at Sydney airport in 1984, said ‘hello’ but they did not remember me, or if they did then they did not say anything and I did not want to be a dork. At that time Fred was the same height as me (5ft 8in/1.72m), Roger was taller than me. It made me think at the time that he had a growth spurt! John was shorter than me and Brian has always been tall. [I have a feeling the platform shoes - or lack thereof - played a vital role here! Although 172cm for Freddie seems likely.]

You said everyone knew Freddie was “too gay to function”. Attitudes towards homosexuality have changed so much that it can be hard for us, now, to fathom what exactly people must have thought of him. Was it more of a joke that he was so camp? Was it something he would have been teased for? Also, he had a girlfriend. Did you ever meet Mary or the other girlfriends?

In 1972 a whole group of us - and I am pretty sure that Fred, Roger, Brian and Tim were there - were in a gay pride march. [Since then, J has found and showed me a picture of a boy she thought was Tim Staffel, and it wasn't, so Tim was most definitely not there. Whether Freddie, Roger and Brian really were there or if J is misremembering, who knows?] Us youth believed you could not choose who you fell in love with and if it was same sex, so what? However, if it was two girls then it was every guy’s duty to change her!

It was also a time that the gayer the guy was, the more the girls were interested. Also, if a guy was gay then you did not have to worry about him and he was a good person to take with you if you were going out drinking. However, the police, parents, teachers and anyone of authority were horrified and treated them badly. I did meet Mary a couple of times at pubs and once after a gig. This is just my opinion, but I found her a bitch. It could be that I was so young. It could be that I was very Australian. It could be that she felt threatened as my accent was a magnet to people around. And the boys (Queen) were no exception. Brian had a cousin in OZ and was always asking questions. I remember that my close group of friends thought that Mary made the perfect girlfriend for Fred as they were as fake as each other. Having said that about them, I often wonder if I would think the same now and if my perceptions were just because she would not give me the time of Day. Chrissy and Jo were a lot of fun.

This was before your time, but I read that Freddie's nickname at Ealing Art School was ‘Freddie Baby’. Any ideas how this came about? His showmanship or maybe personality traits?

I don't think so. There were an older crowd that would talk like that. I think the slang ‘baby’ was a 60’s thing, like groovy baby.

How long, roughly, did Roger and Freddie have their stall? I can't find anywhere when it closed down. What did it actually look like? Was it a sort of wooden stall type of thing? Or an actual room? What were some of the other things people sold at Kensington Market? Mostly clothes or all sorts?

The markets were little divided shops. The back was brick and the walls wood. I have been trying all day to remember the name. [Of the stall.] I think it was something hard to say. More often than not it would be Freddie's dad in the store. It was still open when I left. Roger and Freddie were both in the store on Saturdays and some Sundays. There was a girl, I think Jill, who was in the store more. And during the week it could be anyone. You name it and you could get it at the markets. Second hand or designer clothes, shoes, jewellery, pot and assortments. Hair cuts, food, bric-a-brac.

Wait, wait. What? Freddie’s dad? Really now?

Yeah, it was an older Indian man. so we just assumed it was his father. It was my understanding that he started the stall then the boys would work it as the whole markets were set up for younger people, but if needed he would work there. I don't think the boys would be able to pay the rent on their own. [I have since found out that the stall closed in late 1971, and Freddie continued to work at the Market until '74, for Alan Mair and possibly others. So the stall J witnessed wasn't their original stall - explaining all the different people she saw there - but she had no way of knowing that it wasn't.] They always had incense burning that was very big in the 70s. I still occasionally bring out the sticks, but it does not last like the candles and diffusers of today. If you could get in touch with Robert Daniels, he ran ChaChaDumDum it was the stall across from Freddie. He would know the dates.

[J says it’s this look, in a picture she happened across while looking at my tumblr] Yep, that is the one. It usually means that he does not believe or agree with something that was said and is working out how to respond, or he has lost the plot.

You mentioned Roger seemed shy to you at times. Was he also quite charming? We read a lot about what a chick magnet he was. Was this the impression you had?

My favorite subject! I had a thing for Roger. Everyone has a type and mine is the blue-eyed blond. Now, before you ask, was he brunet? No, he was a mouse/dirty blond. If it was summer he would have blond streaks mostly at the ends. He knew he was pretty and was always dressed in the latest fashion and had the current hairstyle. So, being my type I was constantly watching him. Everyone slept around during that time. I did not notice Roger doing it more or less. 80% of the time he was with Jo. Yes, he was a chick magnet, but he did not do the chasing. He was always very polite to everyone. If it ever looked like there would be any conflict he would be the first to leave it. It was not that he was a coward, just not into conflict. If he saw anyone that needed help he was right there, and often had to have Freddie's back. I never saw him in a fight. He could always talk his way out of things. He was also very patient and would listen for hours to other people talk. However, he would get this vacant look in his eyes at times.

And Freddie would either click his fingers, change the subject or just give up. I don’t think that Brian noticed, and it would be fair game for John, he would see how far he could push it. Roger liked to drink a fair bit and when drunk he would be hanging all over Jo. If she was not there then he missed Jo. If, however, he thought that he or his friends were not being respected, then look out! It was a verbal volcano heading your way. That is what happened to me one time. I was trying to talk with my friends close to where a drunken Roger was and I yelled at him to shut the hell up, you wannabe blond. We/I coped a mouthful back, all in the same sentence, that finished with: Sorry, I didn't realise you were on your rags (period)! I have to have the last word, so I told him the truth: I don’t get them yet! (I was a late starter.) He went so red in the face and called me JB [jail bait] from then.

You also mentioned Roger’s cat Ziggy having kittens. I read about this but never when exactly it was. Do you remember?

I think it was winter ‘73. I remember being cold when he was asking around the pub. [To find homes for the kittens, I gather.]

Is it quite strange reading fictional interpretations of real people you knew? When did you first find out there was Queen fanfic?

No, we used to make up stories about people all the time, a verbal fanfic. Was looking up Adam Lambert and came across the fanfics. Some had me in stitches! Others, like DoA, had me hooked.

Please, allow me to be a little self-indulgent at the end. What's one thing I got totally RIGHT in DoA?

All the Ibex stuff.

What's one thing I got totally WRONG in DoA?

Roger did not have a temper, and I don’t know what the go with his father was, but he would talk about him quite a bit and was always visiting his mum. [Absolutely fair, not only did I change the timeline of Roger’s parents divorce in DoA - for lack of information at the time - but also created a completely fictional narrative around it for the sake of storytelling.]

J, thank you so much for all this, sincerely. Can you tell me a little more about yourself? Are you still an artist?

I don't paint or draw any more. At the age of a 50 the doctors operated on an aneurysm or three, and now my eyesight is very bad, I have no fine motor skills and a tremor. I was married in January 1984 and have just celebrated our 37 year anniversary. I have one daughter who is 30 and two great, although tiring grandkids. A girl, 11, and one boy, 5. I have lived my life as the average middle class Australian with great memories. Talking with you has helped me a lot to remember a time when the world was mine for the taking. When I returned to OZ I started nursing, met my best friend, and we planned that once we graduated we would go back to London to study midwifery. But I fell in love instead.

J's wedding in 1984. As you can see, she found her own blue-eyed blond.

---

Upon request, J has shared some of her past and present artwork with me.

These are from her time at Ealing Art School:

These were done later, back in Australia:

J: Did this just before Christmas as you had inspired me. It did not require fine motor skills!

So there you have it! I hope you found this little glimpse through a 16-year-old girl’s eyes as much of a fascinating read as I did. I urge everybody one more time to remember that J did not have to share any of this, and I think we all owe her a big thank you for delving into her memories. She is likely to see the responses on AO3, so I have comment moderation enabled there as I will not let anybody harass this lovely lady. The tumblr she created is @since72, but she isn’t really an active user and also very new to it all. Again, I can only urge everybody to be respectful.

If you have other burning question for J, feel free to leave them in the comments on AO3. I will either pass them on, or she may want to reply to them herself directly.

#Queen band #Freddie Mercury #Roger Taylor #John Deacon #Brian May #interview #i am so excited about this #so much into #information #JB

[pastelpaperplanes]

Hey tfcon annon from before, youtube Team TFNation, saturday stream, 7:44:28 - 8:44:06 - 9:50:47

AYOO thank you very much!! And seriously thank you so much for the time stamps of all three parts

(anon is referencing THIS ask)

oh the reading was so GOOD 😭😭 rip a full season 4 I cry, ohh what we could have had. it went full circle. PLEASE 💀

spoilers under the cut!

I rly like all the references that the writers built into the episode! The eternal flame for sure (poor Op, just let him do his job the publicity and souped up looks,,leave him alone ajdjsk) and especially the little nod to mnemosurgery. morbid. but hey Megs survived and then some AHHH

I will admit. knowing far too much fanon vocabulary being used in canon—granted for ENTIRELY different functions and intentions— still had me chalking. I still need a moment cuz was very alarmed oh my fuck

Sentinel was about a stupid and awful as I expected him to be, yes I’m still in love with him. no I can’t explain myself when I don’t even know why, he looked v sexy in his suit. added beef is always appreciated in both tastes and looks and TASTES. AYOOO okay I’m done stop THROWING things at me I’m just so sad he roped poor Bee into all the publicity shit :’) Oppy was so good to him after all of that, I love how it took a reassuring little invite for Bee to perk up again AW. Genuinely disappointed Sentinel didn’t try to run w Rattletrap’s janky photoshop Megop pic. AHHH. I would have killed to have Op confirmed SPUTTERING over that nonsense my heart is throbbing pls let me imagine a senario where instead he goes ‘WAIT. HOW DID THEY FIND THAT’ Megs would have wined and dined his plucky nemesis STOP BOOING ME

ngl when Megs started tossing his goons into the power cell I wanted to DIE knowing who would come next, unless my brain literally shut off for those lines and chose not to listen to it—I don’t think Blitzwing was executed??? I have hope for my boy??? If I’m wrong pls don’t tell me lemme ride this HIGH. Rip lugnut you stupid himbo king, I worry for Strika though oh no how would she take it yikes

Jazz was such a pure soul my heart goes out to him idk how he’s such a LIGHT in the whole damn squad when he’s put up w so much. Him speaking in Prowl’s memorial service was sweet, but tone it down on the goovies and jives good god son. Jettwins? Flawless. Outstanding. All 3 lines of them. Could not have asked for better boys were they. sharing a milkshake at maccadams?? literally my heart is dying and crying that is the cutest I love those bros sm it physically hurts me

#JusticeForBeachcomber all he wanted to do was smoke weed and deliver his damn energon. No he does not get paid enough to get maimed on the job. The VA had me wheezing, my mans was so nonchalant absolutely literally getting manhandled then MURDERED 10/10 line deliveries alsjdlaskdj

Bulkhead getting a whole lot of time to shine I was so happyyyyy and ooo getting to see him reunite on the farm granted it ended piss poorly was so cool!! My boy is so valid and I’m so proud, he deserves some stickers over his battle scars

Ratchet,,hbhhhbbb snffnf :’) and Acree :’DDDD AHHHHH theyre too damn cute I need me a sweet little fic with that much needed quiet night

Absolutely fucking THRILLED to find out that Sari is likely gonna live forever seeing that she doesn’t need to sustain herself like, at all. Her upset about Burger Bot oml ajsnksw girlie can you still taste?? do you chew and spit now I’m sobbing real tears for her

Optimus has got to be my fav little journey out of the whole entire reading. He is SO tired and doesn’t like the attention or swanky vanity upgrades, please get him a vacation after Mags was like ‘you. you are my successor. why are you crying and sobbing and shaking your head no I know I literally crushed your spirit saying youre not a hero to your face but aha—‘ and then fucking dies. VACATION. STAT. Technically he gets one being stranded on Earth again. Now I need to draw an Op where it finally dawns on him that yes, YOU are the Magnus by rite of passage—and has a sleep-deprived conniption CRYING fit in his big scary clunky suit. the absolute epitome of Looks Like They Could Kill You, Is a Cinnamon Roll

Overall 12/10 the whole cast and guests absolutely crushed it. Literally couldn’t have imagined the s3 aftermath kicking off any better this was a TREAT!!!!

#SO GOOOOOOOOOD #no I do not regret staying up late to listen my heart is SOARING #transformers #asks #tf nation 2021 spoilers #tf nation 2021 #transformers animated

[downywrites]

bird took request and wrote it. bird hope’s its oke. It’s late here I will die thanks

Ask here

Aww, thanks mate. I really appreciate it! Let’s get on with the writing, shall we?

It was a known fact that Schlatt was not the nicest of people. The ram constantly pissed people off, made rules that made the others spiteful, and, to put it simply, enraged his subjects. And, boy, did they love to voice it. Quackity groaned loudly, slamming his face into the desk of papers he had. The worst part? It didn’t even hurt. The paperwork stacks were big enough that his face never made contact with the table. The vice president’s wings flapped slightly in their work binds. “Why is there so fucking much?!?”

Tubbo sighed, ears flicking downwards even more, scuffing his hoof on the floor dejectedly. “I dunno, man. Is this just the same letter, mailed like 17 different times?” A tired puff of air escaped his mouth as he glared tiredly at a veritable pile of angrily sign letters, each with the same to and from. The duo’s tempers were building to a breaking point. Tubbo ground his hoof into the unpolished floors as he grit his teeth. “Shouldn’t Schlatt be here to at least see what they are saying? He really doesn’t understand his people…”

Quackity scoffed at the goat hybrid’s words, hands itching to yank the old, musty books from the presidents that had preceded the fool that currently controlled the country. The duck pulled off his work restraints that he wore, unloosening the leather straps and letting them fall on the floor. “I’m done with this shit. It’s time to make him pay.” Tubbo shied away from the idea. “I don’t think that’s a good idea...he might kill us if we do anything bad to him.” The other turned around, eyes gleaming with the man’s old playfulness. “Nah, we’ll do something bad that he can’t prove. Something so devious, that stupid grass-grazer wouldn’t see it coming.” He rubbed his hands together, chuckling like a madman while ignoring the protest of the other herbivore in the room. “Hey, I’m also a-” “Tubbo.”

The smaller of the two stepped back into a small pile of letters, nervousness spiking at the change of tone. “I- uh, sorry?” Quackity clapped his hands together. “We strike at dawn.” Sighing with relief, Tubbo nodded, ears flopping slightly as he did so. He headbutted the other carefully, tail wagging when the other pat his head a little. “You really don’t give a fuck what Schlatt says about your butting tendencies, do ya?” Tubbo giggled, a light, reedy sound that echoed slightly in the absence of the person who usually occupied the place. “Yeah, nah. I don’t think Schlatt cares about me enough to worry about that.”

Quackity wanted to say otherwise, eyes glancing to his desks and back to the minor. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words refused to come out, jamming and freezing up right before he could say anything. Shutting his mouth so he didn’t look like a fool, the gambler watched as the land-dwelling hybrid sorted through some of the piles with careful hands. A sense of warmth and fondness grew in his heart before he could put it out. He shook his head vigorously at the thought. ‘No, I can’t bond with him. A gambler never shows his cards.’

Another voice in his head disagreed with his words, slamming their cards down on the table. “Well, are we a gambler right now, or are we a vice president? It's a change, Quackity. You need to understand. Tubbo loves you. Are you going to love him back, or make him sad?’ One of his hands came to rub at his temple. ‘Damn, I didn’t think that taking such a random spot in the cabinet would make me have to change so many of my habits.’ Ironically enough, Tubbo piped up at that very moment.

“Hey, as the vice president of the whole of the country, I think you could answer a few of these ourselves!”” His ears perked up in excitement, his little puffy tail wagging behind him as he sorted out some of the lesser complaints and twirled a fountain pen in between his fingers. Sitting down on one of the couches, his eyes scanned over one of the letters, wincing at the harshness of the words on the weak parchment. The sound of the pen nib scratching against the back of the paper cut through the silence in the room adjoining the office. Wings flapped slightly as he moved. Sitting down carefully next to the younger, he crossed his legs over each other, eyes glancing at the squid ink on the paper.

After a while of silent writing, his voice, croaky from smoke and yelling and all that which is bad, escaped him. “Hey, you know, I never really got to tell you my plan.” A small, little breezy laugh from the other. His voice rang out, all sweet and flowery, like a bee that had just landed on a flower, yet sharp underneath, like the stinger nestled deep in the insect’s body. “Go on, tell me big man. I’d like to hear it.” Their voices intertwined as the rain poured outside, drumming melodically on the old shingles of the presidential house.

The calm never lasted long enough for anyone’s liking. The lights of the sun’s first rays slipped through the room, casting a dancing shimmer onto Tubbo and Quackity’s resting faces. The duck hybrid blinked himself awake, wincing at the light drilling into his eyes from the stained glass window. “Ugh..” Rubbing his eyes and sitting up, he winced at the pop and crunch of his joints shifting. “Ouch. Bad sleeping positions can suck my dick.”

The duck hybrid craned his neck to look at the other sleeping figure, unsurprised at the sight of the much heavier sleeper still passed out on the couch where he was working last night. The boy looked so calm, his face a shade of yellow and gold from the morning light. Quackity couldn’t help but smile at him. The peaceful scene would be adorable in any place, in any setting.

But he knew that the peace wouldn’t stay for long. Once the day began, there would be lots of work to do. All of the papers that he and his ally had not finished would be a problem to solve, that was for sure. It didn’t help that Tubbo tried to make each letter he answered thoughtful and carefully worded, making it even longer to answer a single thing. All in all, if he didn’t try to finish it or try to hide the extra stuff that hadn’t been finished, the silence and calm that pervaded the room wouldn’t be around long enough to give the goat a good night’s sleep.

Walking over to the side of the room that Tubbo resided in, he poked him slightly, reluctant to wake the resting boy. “..Tubbo? You there, buddy?” No response from him. His chest rose and fell in a calming pattern, like the tides just barely kissing the beach. “Tubbo? Schlatt might be mad if he thinks we fell asleep on the job…” The boy’s ears twitched slightly. His eyes slowly opened a crack, just barely.  A yawn, then, loud and almost violent compared to the gentle, restful sleep he seemed to have been in. “Hmm.” His half-open eyes came to rest on Quackity, a small smile gracing his face. “Hello there. Wha’ did I miss?”

The slur in his voice only accentuated the cuteness behind his words. “Nothing much, just need you to be away before the ‘big boss’ shows up.” The duck added a little roll of his eyes and some air quotes to spice up his words, wings fluttering up and out in a show of agitation. A sleepy giggle got rid of any regrowing hostility towards the irritating president. “Is our plan still the same? No hurting him, right?” A quack and a sigh. “Fine, no hurting him. I hope your little plan is just as good as my original one, you tiny goat.” He shuffled towards the coffee machine in the corner of the room, cursing lightly when he bumped into the blunted edge of the table as he did so. Tubbo began to stretch out himself, muscles cramped from being on the couch for so long. “When d’you think he’s comin’ in?” He shrugged, holding out two coffee cups in his hands. “Who knows. The man’s got a schedule that could make even XD weep.”

The room filled with the scent of fresh brew, making Tubbo wrinkle his nose in slight distaste. He never quite liked the scent of coffee, but he refused to tell Quackity that. Moving back towards the table in front of Tubbo, the elder of the two placed down the two mugs, now full of the dark, deep brown liquid. “Want creamer or sugar or something, little bud? Didn’t put any in, just in case I fucked up your morning joe. Couldn’t have that, could we?” “No, we couldn’t, big man. Would be a mighty shame.” Tubbo put it to his lips anyways, wincing at the acrid taste that cursed his sensitive taste buds. And the burning sensation. That too. He put it down quickly, hissing slightly. “Owie.” Quackity chuckled, a twinge of concern lacing his laugh. “You good, Tubbo? That was some scalding stuff you just chugged. Might want to blow on that first.” The sound of a door creaking open made them both tense slightly. ‘Here comes the sun, doo doo doo doo!’ supplied his mind, rather unhelpfully. ‘Here comes the sun!’ He couldn’t even trust his brain to play the right song. Classic Quackers.

The man of the hour walked into the room, scuffed and scratched hooves raking on the floor and producing a nasty noise as he walked. Not even bothering to hand his coat up, the man tossed it onto the floor, the unironed, probably unwashed jacket making the soft sound of fabric crumpling onto the wood as he went. “What’s up, fuckers?” A loud slam made Tubbo flinch significantly more, prompting the duck to instinctively shield him with his wing. “Hello, Schlatt.” Tubbo looked at the man through his friend’s wings, half in awe of how fast his tone changed and half in fear. It was obvious that the two of them hadn’t finished the work they were told they were to do yesterday. He pinned his ears back, already whimpering in fear.

A shit eating grin grew on the ram’s face at the sight of the room. “So, it seems you two idiots haven’t finished the work I gave you yesterday.” He walked more into the room, towering over the two seated people with a look of condescension clearly saturated on his face. “Looks like you two need a punishment.” Quackity’s face hardened. Tubbo’s face contorted into an expression of fear. “Just a little punishment…”

Quackity really, really wanted to slam his face into the desk again. “He gave us MORE paperwork?!? And then he left his office? AGAIN? UGH!” The secretary whined a little as well. “I mean, at the very least, he could have told us just to finish a little bit less...he kind of, uh, showed us an entire mountain of work he had been failing to work on for, like, a month!” Quackity trilled loudly in agreement, startling him into dropping the wad of papers he had in his hand. “Yeah, that’s what I’m talking about! Stand up to the Schlass!” Tubbo couldn’t help the resulting snort. “The Schlass?” “Yeah! Schlatt and ass together equals Schlass!” The boy couldn’t help but stare at him.

“...Yeah, okay, not the best name ever. But!” Quackity perked up, eyes still grealming with mischief. “We can still enact our plan tonight!” The goat hybrid’s tail wiggled happily behind him, a small puff of forest brown and mocha with extra cream making a blur where his pants met his shirt. “Yess!” Quackity’s sorting got a little faster, energy restored by the reaction he got from the younger. “All we have to do is wait…”

When Schlatt said that he was into bondage, he did not mean this. Not in the slightest. Schlatt struggled in the ropes, eyes a mix of confused and sleepy. The afternoon light was still visible through the slits in his presidential bedroom, so he presumed he hadn’t been kidnapped or been knocked out for more than a day or two. “What the fuck is going on?” The sound of a familiar gait made him simultaneously relax and tense up. “Quackity? Get me out of this shit, you fucking weak excuse of a vice president!” The duck hybrid stepped into his range of vision, face fitted with a look of indifference and condescension, something he was familiar with seeing in the mirror every morning. “You know, you’ve been rude to us all week. Actually, all month. Maybe even the last few months?” Schlatt had the nerve to look sheepish. “You didn’t like it? Then why didn’t you tell me-”

Quackity cut him off with a loud huff. “Why didn’t I tell you? I wonder why, dipshit!” He threw his hands up in the air, his silhouette at the door looking more menacing than the real deal. “Really, Schlatt! For someone who struts his stuff every four seconds, you really don’t know when we need you or when you need to stop acting!” His ears pulled back a little in his anger. And, all of a sudden, his anger vanished into something else. “But, Tubbo told me to use my anger for something else. Tubbo..” He trailed off, eyes unfocusing for a moment. “He helped center me a little more. And, yes, you’re an asshole, but all it takes to make you realize the problems we have is just a little nudge. And look!” Black eyes bored into nervous rectangular. “This is more than just a nudge at this point.” The ram tensed while he processed. Within a few seconds, he calmed down, relaxing a bit more. “So you’re not gonna stab me. Great. Is that all?”

He got an eyebrow raise for the effort. “Oh, that’s not all, buster. Since I didn’t want you to get off scot free, I decided Tubbo and I would be able to mess with you while you’re still down for the count!” With that, he moved closer to the man, tasering his sides roughly to get a quick reaction out of him. The ram bucked and laughed, eyes widening from the sudden jolts of tickling lighting arcing down his spine. “AHAHA! DUhuckie?!?” The sound of hoofsteps rapidly approached the door, slowing only to reveal a small, fluffy bed of hair peeking out to the side of the rectangle of light. “Can I help now? Or do you still want to finish your epic monologue?” Quackity nodded. “Yeah, let’s wreck this cocky bastard’s shit. You know, just a little punishment.” If Schlatt’s fur could pale, it would have.

“No, no, no..Let’s t-talk this out, here..” He shook his head vehemently at the two devious pairs of eyes closing in on him. A pair of hands gently scratched at his ribs, working their way down. They carefully rubbed between the bones, trying to be soft and gentle. The president burst into soft laughter, squirming in his bonds. “Does that tickle, Mr. President? I sure hope so!” Prime, Tubbo’s voice was just so cute. Schlatt didn’t have the heart to be mad at the sweet thing tickling him so kindly. On the other hand...where was Quackity? As if he was summoned by the very thought, the vice president latched onto his hips, kneading them quickly and frenetically. The sudden change made him arch his back with a loud (and rather girly) shriek. A small patch of red bloomed under his fur.

“Was that a shriek? Damn, Ram! Didn’t know you could go falsetto!” Tubbo seemed more impressed than teasy, little stars glimmering in his eyes and a small ‘o’ on his face. The tickling started up again, this time with both of them going a little slower so the ram didn’t just deflate from the sudden sensations. Schlatt decided that this was infinitely worse. The light, almost nonexistent sensations were near unbearable to him. “Cuhuhuhut ihihit ohohut!” The smaller herbivore was quick to answer him. “Cut what out? If you want, I can go faster-”

“Nope! This is a punishment, not a chill session!...Is that what you kids call one of these?” The goat shook his head no.

“Well, fuck. I need a return on that stupid book.” The banter that was occuring was making his ears burn.

“Juhuhust shuhuh-hut thehe fuhuhuck uhuhup!” Quackity didn’t like that. Another round to his hips made him cackle and buck. “You really should shut your mouth for once, Rammy. Maybe you wouldn't have gotten yourself into so much trouble with us in the first place.” He trilled quietly into his ear, breath ghosting on it just enough for it to tickle. Tubbo giggled again, tail wagging with the knowledge (read:interrogation benefits) from one of his cabinet members fresh in his head. “Hey Quackity? According to the nice deer man, Mr. President here has ticklish hooves! He also, uh, can’t stand the light stuff.”

The ram’s eyes bugged out, hot blood rushing to his face. “W-where- what? How? You fucker, who did you bribe-” “No bribes! Just some really, really good convincing~” Quackity purred, feathers ruffling with a sense of pride and a hint of mischief. “Really, really good…” Schlatt shook his head, muttering little ‘no’s under his breath. “Dohohon’t yohohou fuhuhucking dahahare.” Flicking his ears back to ignore the little coos that came from the duck, he focused on Tubbo, eyes pleading for help silently. Tubbo pinned his ears in empathy, but he didn’t move to help him. Instead, the boy pulled out a small, pitch black feather, healthy sheen obvious in the doorway’s light. Positioning himself at the struggling president’s hooves, he made a thumb’s up gesture, avoiding the slightly heated glare of the elder herbivore.

“Sorry, sir. I have to help the one who’s in charge right now.” Feathers puffed up even more, making the duck hybrid look more fluffy and pettable by the second (not that the ram would pet him after this shit. No way). “That’s right, bitch. I’m in charge right now. And I say that we get revenge on this little shit right here.” Quackity took the man’s other ankle into his clutches, placing his finger directly on the squishy, sensitive part of his hoof. It trembled underneath his touch, a small whimper escaping the ram at the extra warmth of anticipation flooded his system.

“Dohon’t fuhucking tehease….”

“Or what, big guy? Kill me? Fire me? You don’t have the balls.”

The finger slowly wiggled its way down his hoof, the owner delighting in the giggles and squirming that it caused. “And, besides, you like this, don’tcha?” He glanced at the man’s tail, the little puff wiggling where it was on the pillows. “I can see your tail, Rammy.” Schlatt turned away from them, trying in vain to shield his red face from view. “S-shuhuhut thehehe fuhuhuck uhuhup!” Tubbo decided to join in on the fun, dragging the feather over the outer parts of his hooves. The resulting flinch and squeal was worth it.

Quackity took it slow, circling the smooth pad on the inside of the hoof and using his nails ever so slightly. It was absolute torture, but Schlatt lived for that type of stuff. His tail thumped violently against the bed as they teased him, giving away his feelings to the duo wrecking him.

“Aww, is Rammy liking this? That’s so cute…~”

“Quackity, his face is so pink! It’s cute!”

Ah, well. There goes his dignity. Another finger traced on his hoof, making his giggles hike up in pitch and volume. The ticklish feeling suffused throughout his whole body, arcing like electricity at his extremities. Nails scratched at his hoof, this time a little faster and aiming to make it as ticklish as physically possible. The feather on his other hoof began to swipe within the more sensitive inner areas. “AHA! IHAhaHA’M SAHAreheHEHEE! PleHEHeaSE!” “are you though?~” He nodded his head frantically through his laughter, tears pricking at his eyes. “MEHEHERCY!” Tubbo and Quackity exchanged a glance. “Think he’s had enough, Tubbo?” “Yeah, I think he has.” He relaxed his shoulders a little in relief. “For now.” Nevermind.

The tickling slowed down, rubbing away the sparking feeling left behind. His giggles subsided slowly as they cooed at him. Schlatt’s tail, however, never stopped wagging, beating the mattress in a steady beat. Quackity untied the knots slowly, smiling at the panting ram. “Had fun, Schlatt?” A glare, then. “Just get me down from here, vice.” “Yes, sir.” And if the deer cabinet member found himself in a sticky situation a very miffed president set up for him, no-one was the wiser. Except for his right-hand men, of course. Who would he be without them?

#Lee!schlatt #ler!quackity #ler!tubbo #mcyt tickle #dsmp tickle #my writing #tickle fic #i need to find the link for this tmrw morning #sfw tickling

[predictable-affairs]

I ✯A flip of the coin, but both sides are the same...✯

They would have never thought, never expected for something like this to happen. Never, especially from a bride...

Oh, but how beautiful the doomed bride was, falling into the hands of those sadistic boys... And she didn't even last a month, what an unlucky soul she was.

Yet nor her beauty, nor her grace shocked those boys to their core, it was what she left behind. Whilst cleaning, throwing and burning belongings of the deceased bride, the brothers found something rather unsual.

In the midst of a pile of clothes, that Reiji detested every time he saw it, going as far as to threatning the poor bride to clean it. "It's uterlly deplorable and unladylike!" he'd say in his usal stoic voice. "Alright, I'll clean it, thank you Reiji." agreed the deceased girl, always closing the door right in his face. Reiji did threaten to clean it himself, which always got the bride to insist not to, appereantly it didin't seem to bother the other boys. It seems that his threats weren't empty, since he did end up, after all, cleaning it himself.

Oh an what did he, what did they find in tha pile of clothes?

A small, chuby baby girl.

A child of the bride.

She was quite little, but still, perhaps could crawl? Nevertheless, she stared up, with dusty pink cheeks and innocence that only a child could hold,  right at the boys around her, who surrounded her like flies on a rotting fruit. No talking, no crying, no whining, no protesting. Silence and a simple baby stare.

"How did she manage this?", "How did we not notice?!" were the question spinning like pretty ballet dancers in the heads of the vampires, but the most important one - "What should we do?".

A simultaneous question that popped like a red ballon realeasing acusations, opinions and confusion in everyones heads.

What should they do?

"I say we keep it!"

Is the first harsh voice of the fiery Ayato, whose hair could compete with his attitudes ego.

"No way!" next protests Subaru.

"I don't know what you will do, but I will not let... it... grow up among, or become like any of us." continues reasioning the white haired boy.

"Oh, but it doesn't have to grow up a monster, dear brother." interjects another triplet - Laito.

" Yet sadly, I have to agree with you, we do not need to keep another mere human." shrugs the playful boy with an unusual statment, even shocking some of the brothers, but they'd never let their face betray them like that...  

He's usually the one who always wants more toys to play with, like a greedy child or an overworked bee.

"No! You are all wrong!" a fitty contradiction could be heard, almost from afar, or maybe right up close?

"We should keep it. I want to keep it!" the strict tone of voice comes from Kanato or perhaps his bear.

"Why? So you can torture it and turn it into another one of your dolls?" mocks Subaru, his pose getting a bit more uncomfortable.

The purple haired boy is in shock. Gripping his little brown bear, waiting to start a fight. How dare he say something like that?!

"If we are going to keep it, it will not be given to only one of us." interrupts a puzzeled, musing Reiji; like cold midnight water, extinguishing the growing new years flame, whose smoke was creating a violent atmosphere, so thick, that even honey would seem brethable enough to not drown in.

"So you agree, we should keep it?" harshly questions the flaming Ayato boy, his patience wearing thin; though insisde he was quite surprised. Does someone as stoic and stuck up as Reiji really agree to keeping a human and even a baby no less?

"No, of course not." offers no other words the mannered vampire, yet telling nothing new or surprising. Now with his gloved hand, which's white didin't differ too much from the pale of his hands, up to the chin, soothingly or maybe even camingly, carresing the face, helping to dose off deeper into his batteling thoughts of the situation he was put in just now.

"What about Shu?" continues questioning hopefully Ayato, for his prior hope just crumbled to calm ash.

Oh, the indifferent, lazy vampire Shu. The blond one of the group of brothers, the only one not in the circle, the only one peacefully resting on the pink covers of the many deceased brides bed, floating in a dream only accompanied by his music.

Or maybe it's something else, something more that he's listening to?  

Lazily opening one eye, hardly letting the piercing blue thats holds the whole of the ocean and it's destructive tides in it, peak through, quietly resting on the palms of his hands. Just as lazily as he opened his eye, just as slowly did he close it.

"I do not care." in an indefrent tone that rainly mirrors his mood, is the anwser that he bearly pushes out in a rusty, raspy voice, slowly qiueting down like an echo or a shadow in the back of a throat with every simple word. Indefrence - as predictable as Reijis opposition.

And so the question stands unanswered - what will they do?

Oh, the tension is growing thick, thicker than fog, thicker than otmeal.

Though the atmosphere of violence was quickly put out, a one of verbal fighting is about to break down.

Oh, and a fight did ensue.

So much yelling, from Subaru, opposing, not wanting to raise anything among them; from Kanato, wanting company for his bear - Teddy, and someone to dress up; from Ayato, emptily reasoning with Laito and Subaru on why they should keep them; and quiet giggles, yet as strong as others arguments; Reiji kept quiet, still deep in his thoughts.

The fight kept getting louder, like a shopping mall with big sales or a cafeteria with good food, yet it didn't seem to bother Shu, how unusual...

"We are not going to keep them!" like punches, harsh words are thrown around the room, a ball, bouncing off the soothing pink walls.

"So where do you suggest we leave them?!" more questions coming from blank faces with yeling mouths.

"Kill them!" another shout.

"We are not keeping them!" the final word, stern voice of Reiji, slowly quieting everyone down.

Was it confusion that suddenly struck the aura of the room or pure shock, nobody knew, but it did engrain a moment of peace, silence to the room. It's pink walls suddenly started to feel like matresses.

One, two, three... that's the count of a rich waltz, and that's how long silence ruled the room.

A waltz, a single waltz.

Yelling, again, crueller words and oppositions, it's good that the baby can't talk, or else their vocabulary would be that of a sailor.

So much commotion such a war between the brothers, it seemed that the rosy baby no longer exsisted.

And so through the yelling, through the war of unpieced words and calmless attitudes, for better or worse, for against or by Reijis last words - it was decided.

They will keep her. They will keep the rosy cheeked baby.

And so, her adventure began.

"What... is it?" comes a small, tiny question from a unknown asker in a quiet little voice.

Everyone is silent, no one seems to have considered that question.

,,It's... a girl..." comes an equally akward anwser also from an unknown source.

Well, now her adventure can definetly start.

And so she grew up amongst the six boys, each one slowly, but surely taking a liking to her.

Whether it was the messy baths that Reiji gave the baby girl (which infurated him to no end; "A bath is supposed to be clean! How does one manage to make it so messy!" - a frequent phrase circling his brain like a dark taxi), the calming naps, that Shu took with her (annoying him when she cried waking up, to the point where he gave her a nickname to soothe her that sticked to this day), or maybe the play sessions with Kanato (which always seemed to put a giggly smile on her face, except when he got angry, then they'd both have a screaming, crying fit), the reading lessons with Laito (effectivelly putting her to sleep, yet he woke her up everytime and even in the midst of tired crying - he'd continue teaching her to read), perhaps the physical fun with Ayato (not once letting her win any games, even the one where he tought her how to walk. But that doesn't mean that there weren't any, though who is he to ever admit that?) and possibly the gentle feeding of Subaru (who had more trouble with it than he'd like to admit), that made them slowly grow accustomed to her, they will never know.

It seemed that each brothers compliance helped the others in return, like a mirror or an open letter passed around in a circle, each one slowly grew a soft spot, and even, dare I say, some attachment to her.

Such unusual behavior for a vampire (was it something in her or just them growing weak? - no one pondered), maybe thats why they never said a word to their father?

There was one thing the boys forgot to do - give her a name.

When this point was made, another fight almost ensued. Who should get to name the baby and what will they name them - the two mischievous questions that almost started a fight as if it was a race. Yet, just before the whistle was blown for words and saliva to start flying, a name issued, suggested by Laito, caught the attention of many, especially, since Ayato got very insisting on it and with a hiding blush - Subaru quietly agreed on.

The decesion was made, and the vampires named her (y/n).

They watched her grow up, always keeping her company, playing games and teaching what they wanted to. But they weren't the only ones who watched her. She also observed them.

As she learned to walk and speak, as she started writing her name in better hand writing, getting older with each and every birthday, she saw all the brides come and go, the way they were treated and how they never lasted (yet she stayed obliviuos to that she too, was a child of a bride long lost).

Obviuosly not just one or two brides tried to make friends with the girl; sometimes in the hopes of escape or sometimes just in hopes of finding a friend, someone "normal", someone to vent to.

At first (y/n) felt sorry for the brides, consoled them even.

But as time went on, as she kept getting older the reoccurences started to anger her.

She began despising the brides, how dare they speak the most attrocious lies, talk such foul things about the boys?! They would never do things that they vent of! And insulting them that way, it made her want for them to leave faster.

She hated how with each bride she'd get less attention, than when she was alone with the boys. She hated the brides, their lies and pesuasion of escape. Where would she go? And more importantly - why would she go? They were kind to her, good, they took care of her why would she ever want to run. And after one particular incident, an escape in which she was dragged in and almost lost the mansion, her... family, forever! (Y/n) completely stopped interacting with the brides.

That was the childhood of a lost brides child, but her fate, history, was yet to be made.

                                                       ↢ What time is it? | II o’clock ↣

#Diabolik Lovers #x reader #Diabolik Lovers x reader #X reader smut #Diabolik Lovers x reader smut #Diabolik Lovers smut #Laito #Kanato #Ayato #Reiji #Shu #Subaru #Sakami #Laito Sakamaki #Kanato Skamaki #Ayato Sakamaki #Reiji Sakamaki #Shu Sakamaki #Subaru Sakamaki #Sakamaki x reader #Skamaki smut #Sakamaki x reader smut #Diabolik Lovers fanfiction #fanfiction

[bigskydreaming]

Doing some writing today off and on between errands and work, and jumping around various Kings of the Sky installments, specifically Dick, Jason and Cass stuff, so probably gonna post snippets from a bunch of them as I go. 

(Kings of the Sky is an AU that goes canon divergent from the point of Jason calling Dick for advice for dealing with Bruce after the Garzonas case and where things end up going dramatically different from that point on. Including Jason not dying, being part of his own lineup of Titans between Dick and Tim’s, Dick being adopted not long after the Church of Blood incident, Cass being the third Wayne kid to be taken in and adopted and with Tim and Duke being next and then Damian coming along later once they find out about him. This is basically my ‘the family’s alright’ AU with largely ‘Good Dad Bruce’ except for Dick and then Jason yelling some sense into him about the other, respectively, in the first two installments, just FYI).

Anyway, this bit is from a story called “In Their Shadows Grow Trees Of Good and Evil,” set about a year after Cass has been adopted, when she and Jason are both sixteen and Dick’s twenty-one. Also just FYI, because canon has never been specific about what ways Cass is neurodivergent due to the comic-book style ‘rewiring’ of her brain so that she could learn to speak later in life, I tend to go with her being dyslexic and having aphasia. She sticks exclusively to sign language and being a silent presence in her costumed personas, so that there’s no chance of people connecting the dots between Black Bat and Cassandra Wayne, as she mostly speaks verbally in her civilian persona and doesn’t hide her aphasia. The reason there’s not likely to be any obvious signs of aphasia in the snippets of her I post is because I wait until I complete something to choose words at random to replace with aphasia-born mixups, so its more realistic and I’m not gearing her dialogue towards deliberately placed moments. Just in case you were wondering.

In Their Shadows Grow Trees of Good and Evil

“Hey Todd,” sneered an exquisitely obnoxious voice. “Why’s your sister so fucking weird?”

Jason sighed the sigh of a soul a mere century into its eternity of damnation as he rose from the lunch table he’d been studying at and crammed the rest of his books into his backpack. Then he pasted a cheerfully bland smile on his face and turned around, geared for academia warfare (teenage prep school edition).

“Hey Craig,” he said brightly. “Why’d you come out of the womb so ugly your parents had to tie a piece of steak around your neck just to get the family dog to go near you? Mysteries abound.”

The advancing junior slowed a step, momentarily rocked by his truly impressive return volley. The grimace Craig’s already gargoyle-esque features twisted into made his face even more unpleasant to look at than usual, which was quite the feat. Jason would have applauded if just looking at it hadn’t already turned him to stone.

But the bargain basement basilisk kept on towards him rather than turn tail and skulk off to pop his emotional blisters, so Jason sighed a sequel to his first one. Looked like it was one of those days where Craig felt up to powering through. Guess someone had eaten their self-esteem Wheaties that morning. Joy.

“You think you’re pretty hot shit, don’t you, Todd?”

Jason shrugged. “I mean, to be honest I kinda have a one track mind, so right now I’m mostly just thinking about punching you in your mistake.”

“My what?”

“Your face,” Jason elaborated with exaggerated patience.

“Huh?”

“Oh my god, I’m saying your face is a mistake. See, its not as fun when I have to stop and explain it to you. Ugh, you ruin everything.”

He neatly sidestepped the older boy as R2-Dumbass stayed frozen, smoke coming off of his internal CPU while trying to catch up. For a second Jason thought he was home free, but then he remembered the universe fucking hated him so haha, sucks to suck. Also, a small crowd had gathered to witness the verbal jousting match, and nothing invigorated an asshole like Craig more than an audience of like-minded peers. So there was that too.

“Whatever. Laugh it up all you want, you little shit,” the junior rallied. “But just remember, mocking your betters will never change the fact that you were born street trash and you’ll be street trash until the day you die.”

Honestly? Not his best effort. Jason almost felt bad using any of his good material. Seemed like overkill at this point. But he did have a strict Scorched Earth policy to maintain, so.....

“Yeah but my dad could buy out and ruin your dad so that means I still win, right?”

He smirked as the barb landed and Craig’s face set into a sunset vista of strangled purple and furious red. Bam. Direct hit.

“Listen, you - “

“Oh for fuck’s sake, it was rhetorical,” Jason interrupted. “I don’t actually care what you think even a little bit. Nobody does. You don’t matter. Please go be irrelevant elsewhere, you’re fucking dismissed, you loser.”

“Speak for yourself, charity case.” Oh goodie, Craig’s backup singers had finally arrived. Now if only he could remember to care enough to learn their names in the first place. Seriously, who told the extras they could have lines? “All the jokes in the world can’t change who and what you are.”

Jason shrugged and continued nonchalantly up the hill to where his sister was standing with arms crossed, staring down at something on the other side.

“True genius is never appreciated in its own time,” he tossed back over his shoulder. “I’m sure I’ll be immortalized in song eventually.”

The mob of morons deigned to let him go without further incident. Though he suspected that had less to do with his scathing wit and more to do with him being headed towards Cass. She was immaculately presented as always, wearing the Gotham Academy uniform like she was born to it despite hating its uncomfortable stiffness every bit as much as he did. But that was just Cass for you. 

For all that she still struggled at times to engage verbally or speak up in social settings, her mastery of body language remained without peer. She could chameleon-camouflage her way into matching poise and posture with anyone - a skill that had allowed her to walk into school on her very first day with her head held high as though she owned everything in her sight. Exuding so much Queen Bee Intimidation Factor even the other hive queens were afraid to approach her  themselves. Sending forth their drones to try and woo her into an alliance, only to see her remain oh-so-casually above it all, a slightly contemptuous smile adorning her lips.

Basically, she scared the shit out of their classmates without them having anywhere close to a true understanding of why, and Jason was outrageously jealous. Rude. Unfair. Why did his siblings always get all the cool toys when all he had was his rakish charm, scintillating intellect and debonair.....nah, who was he kidding. He was fucking awesome. 

“Sup, sis,” he said, cresting the hill to stand beside Cass. “Just FYI, I just took a popularity bullet for you, which means you owe me your dessert tonight. Its a family rule that’s totally a real thing and definitely not something I just made up right now because Alf is making chocolate soufflé.”

She made no acknowledgment and remained stock still, a Colossus at Rhodes peering down into the shifting shadows of the parking lot below.

He peered down as well, though with absolutely no idea what they were looking at. Solidarity, yo.

“So are we staring fixedly at anything in particular, or should I just pick my own spot and commit?”

His humor was totally wasted on her as always. Instead of laughing and telling him what a lovable goof he was, she just inclined her head in the direction of a blonde girl where she was standing next to the driver’s side door of a Mercedes-Benz, dictating final commandments to her peons before departing. Well, probably. Jason was just guessing, based on his own body language reads, and like, general disdain for literally everyone at this school that wasn’t related to him.

He made a face. An extra special one reserved just for this classmate in particular. “Ugh, Madison Dunleavy? She’s the worst.”

Cass raised a cool eyebrow. “I thought Craig Hendricks was the worst.”

“He is. They’re both the worst. Its a hotly contested position here at Gotham Academy.”

She rolled her eyes and nodded back down at the Queen of Air and Darkness. “So. You know her?”

“Nope,” Jason said. “Come to think of it, I’ve actually never seen her in my life. No idea who that is. Can’t help you, sorry. Shall we go home?”

The Eyebrow of Inquisition speared him with clear intent. Who the fuck needed words when you could pack the Encyclopedia Britannica into a single facial expression?

Jason sighed gustily. 

“I had a slight altercation with her freshman year that led to her declaring her undying enmity for me until the end of time. The word nemesis may or may not have been thrown around once or twice. I can’t recall.”

The Eyebrow of Inquisition lowered nary an inch. Ugh, she wanted more? Why did everyone in his family hate privacy, with the obvious exclusion of himself when snooping through Cass and Dick’s rooms for blackmail material, which was actually intel-gathering and thus another matter entirely.

“Okay so basically what happened was my first week here I overheard her talking shit about me and not even twenty minutes later she was pretending to kiss my ass in homeroom, like probably because of Bruce, y’know? So I just busted out laughing and told her to fuck off and die and she has inexplicably loathed me ever since.”

Avoiding further Eyebrow Inquisition-ing, he made a show of peering around aimlessly. When the silence extended and it was clear Cass was absolutely not going to break first, Jason waved a hand in dismissal and took to peering oh so casually at his fingernails. "I suppose I was less tactful back in those days.”

He chanced a look up, finally, and saw his sister’s eyebrow had somehow managed to mighty morphin power ranger its way into a configuration evoking both judgment and disbelief, with the latter perhaps aimed at the idea he was significantly differing in the tact department these days either.

“I don’t love the implications your face is making right now,” he told her.

She ignored him, because of course she did. 

“Does she know Dick?” She asked instead. Jason shrugged.

“I mean, maybe? She’s probably seen him around at one of those stupid galas we have to go to, and actually I think maybe she has an older brother who was either in Dick’s grade or like, one above or below it? I don’t know.”

Now both eyebrows were doing the dance of disbelief. Okay, so maybe that was poor situational awareness on his part, since it wasn’t like Gotham Academy was a big school with a ton of other kids and also he’d only been in the same class as Madison for like over two whole years, but whatever. There were extingent circumstances.

“Look, she’s a total snob who’s always looked down on me and in return I willfully ignore both her existence and that of everyone and everything even tangentially related to her. Its called equality, Cass.”

She pursed her lips and went back to the peering, because of course in the mind of Cass it made total sense that the Grand Inquisition didn’t need to be followed up by any explanation on her part, what the hell. Like was he supposed to have inferred it?

“What’s this all about anyway?”

“I heard her talking about Dick earlier,” she said without peeling her eyes away from her personal recon mission. “I don’t know what she said though, I just heard her say Grayson, and then I was busy looking at what her body was saying. I know it was about Dick because she shut down when she saw me. And I didn’t like the way she....looked....before that happened. The way she was talking. It was.....”

Jason frowned but held back any follow-up questions while he waited - with total patience because he wasn’t an absolute cad, thank you very much - for his sister to find the word she was hunting for. It was a major source of frustration for her, that whatever neural map her brain followed put body language and spoken language in totally different regions of her brain, separated by a fairly great divide. Meaning she usually had to make a conscious choice to focus on body language or conventional languages - whether verbal or sign. But it tended to be one or the other; she’d yet to master taking in and comprehending both forms of ‘language’ at the same time. And none of them had quite figured out how to convince her that she wasn’t actually missing anything when she chose to focus on one specific form of communication - that she was still observing far more than most people ever would.

“Proprietary,” Cass settled on at last. She nodded her satisfaction with her choice of word, and Jason waited a whole two point five seconds before sticking  his whole foot in his mouth.

“Proprietary?” He asked with a scrunched nose as he weighed that for possible context and implications. “You sure?”

She glared. He winced. It was a whole thing.

“Yeah, I know, sorry, sorry, I heard it the second it was out of my mouth. We don’t actually have to experiment with the legitimacy of if looks could kill.”

Cass rolled her eyes, but eh. That could’ve gone worse.

Jason swiftly redirected attention anyway. Discretion is the better part of valor, after all.

“So. The Queen of Air and Darkness was talking about our big bro, and her mood was.....proprietary, huh?” He recapped while digesting the info like a boss. “Well. Definitely not loving that, I gotta say. Hold please.”

Pulling out his phone and pulling up his most recent texts, he began typing furiously.

“What are you doing?” Cass asked.

“Texting Tom,” he replied, because duh. Hah, now it was his chance to have the answers that should be patently obvious and thus make with the ‘are you kidding me’ when she asked obvious questions she should know the answer to! How do you like them apples, sis?

“Why are you texting your boyfriend right now?”

Jason rolled his eyes, because fair is fair, but never ceased texting for a moment. Time was of the essence here, probably. Well, maybe. Okay probably not. But it’d still been like half an hour since he and Tom had last texted and that’s a very fucking long time in teenage years.

“To be our getaway driver tonight, obviously.”

She stared at him. He didn’t look up, but he could feel it anyway. He was very intuitive like that.

“What?”

Jason heaved another sigh, one keyed to tones of ‘oh my god, do I really have to spell this out,” exasperation. He was just racking up the bonus points here. It was really too bad this wasn’t an actual competition he could actually win and this was all just pettiness taking place wholly in his own head. Lame. 

“Well, clearly we now have to go snoop in Madison’s house aka lair to see if its actually a house or a full on lair. Because she’s either a creeper or like, legit evil, and its important to know which one before we proceed, because obviously we can only bust her for being a weird creeper about our brother as Jason and Cass, whereas if she’s legit evil, that’s gotta go down as Robin and Black Bat. I’ll handle the snooping, you’ll take look-out, but we still need a wheelman and that’s why I’m texting Tom. This is all very mission-oriented, okay. I’m a professional.”

“Right,” she affirmed, while sounding anything but convinced. “Why don’t we just tell Bruce?”

Without looking up or breaking stride, he said: “I’m going to give you til I finish typing this sentence to figure out what was wrong with what you just said. Remember that we are talking about hypothetical danger to our brother, and also Bruce’s idea of a proportionate response to any of his children being in even hypothetical danger. And also our brother’s idea of a proportionate response to Bruce’s idea of a proportionate response. Look, you’re still new so I’m gonna need you to just trust me on this one. Its gonna be a no on telling Bruce without further intel.”

Cass said nothing in response to that, which meant that she was conceding the point and recognized the wisdom of his words. Or maybe that she was just gonna go ahead and do what she wanted anyway and just wasn’t bothering to fight about it, but it was probably that first thing.

“Well you better not just make out with your boyfriend all night,” is what she said at last, and that got his attention reeeeeal quick like.

“Umm. Wow. Okay. So, first off, you’re not the boss of me and who I make out with and when, so jot that down. And second, now I’m definitely going to make out with my boyfriend extra hard, with the exception of when we are actually on our recon mission because as previously established, I am a professional. And also, again, you’re not the boss of me.”

Jason ignored her Eye Roll With Extra Emphasis, and instead just held up his phone to Text With Extra Emphasis, as he read along with what he was typing.

“By the way babe, we have to make out extra hard tonight,” he said, tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth while he dragged out his dictation with the kind of focus that usually led to Bruce asking why he couldn’t apply as much intensity to training as he did to pettiness. “Cass has suddenly decided she can dictate terms to me and I need to shut that shit down ASAP, so thank you in advance for your assistance in this matter. Smoochies and other gay stuff to the best boyfriend ever.”

Jason frowned as a response pinged back seconds later. 

TheCatsMeow: ....the things I put up with for the sake of your weird family dynamics.

TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: Yeah, yeah. You’re a saint among were-panthers. Must you mock? Why can’t you just tell me I’m pretty instead?

TheCatsMeow: Sorry. Let me try again. OMG you’re so pretty Jase how did I get so lucky xoxo.

TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: No. Its too late. It feels forced and unbelievable now. You’ve ruined it forever.

TheCatsMeow: Got it. From now on I will only tell you that you’re repulsive and hideous.

TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: I’m breaking up with you.

TheCatsMeow: But after I help you with your mission tonight.

TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: Obvsly. I’m a professional. Why do people keep forgetting this?

TheCatsMeow: And also the making out to spite your sister.

TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: Yeah we should do that first too. I mean we already penciled it in.

[transparenthologramrebel]

My po3 OFTS au is a thing now (Chapter 2 electric boogaloo)

Chapter 2

Hollyleaf POV

“Thornclaw, take Bracken fur with you to collect some moss for bedding. Brambleclaw organize a hunting patrol, we lost all of our prey in the fire. I don’t want the queens and elders going hungry tonight.” Firestar instructed as he walked through the camp assessing the damage. Hollyleaf was working with Cinderheart on dismantling the burned parts of the warriors den. Hollyleaf and her brothers found Thunderclan sheltering in the old two legs nest on the far side of the territory. Thunderclan sheltered in the nest for the night and returned to the ruin camp at early sunrise. The camp was now bustling with activity as cats worked to clear the debris left behind and assess the damage. Hollyleaf watched as Brambleclaw nodded to Firestar before taking Berrynose, Honeyfern, and Sorreltail out of camp. The reunion had been brief with Brambleclaw when the three returned to the clan. Not that Hollyleaf could look at him the same after the revelation on the clifftop.

“Is he really like Tigerstar? Is he just waiting for Firestar to pass so he can take over?...Is he really cruel to Squirrelflight?” Hollyleaf thought as she watched him leave. She had heard tales of infamous fights between her former parents, but she had never witnessed it herself. She wrinkled her nose in disgust at the mere thought of the word ‘parents’. Squrrielflight had returned safely to Thunderclan as well, but Hollyleaf and her brothers refused to acknowledge her. Hollyleaf’s shock and rage from the night before had sat with her throughout the night and now turned to bitter anger and disgust. She doubted she would ever speak to Squirrelflight again after her betrayal. 

“Hollyleaf are you alright?” Cinderheart’s soft voice broke Hollyleaf out of her mind. 

“Huh..uh yes...I’m fine…” Hollyleaf said, beginning to strip the warriors' den again. Cinderheart ran her tail down Hollyleaf’s spine reassuringly. 

“I can tell when something is on your mind, you know.” She said with a purr. 

Hollyleaf sighed heavily, knowing her best friend was right. She had always struggled to lie to her. She spotted Ashfur who was busy helping Ferncloud repair the nursery. Her fur prickled with anxiety and rage. 

“I wished the flames had consumed him! He’s a traitor to the clan and the warrior code!” she thought angrily, as the memories of last night filled her storm filled mind. 

“Hollyleaf?” Cinderheart chimed again.

“I...uh..yes...sorry..I’m just...last night was a lot...we almost didn’t make it.” Cinderheart stared at her, her eyes soft with empathy.

“I know, I was so scared when you, LionBlaze and Jayfeather weren’t with the clan. I thought you....” Cinderheart's voice faded into a whisper and she pressed her head under Hollyleaf’s chin. “I’m so glad you’re alright.” Hollyleaf’s chest rumbled with a purr as she rested her chin on her best friend’s head. 

“I’m glad you’re alright too.” 

“How is Lionblaze? I...I haven’t been able to talk to him last night. I want to make sure he’s alright.” Cinderheart asked as the two friends once again returned to her work. 

Hollyleaf blinked as she pondered the question. Lionblaze...why was she asking about Lionblaze specifically? As Hollyleaf thought about a good way to respond, the answer to why Cinderheart was asking hit her like a monster.

“Dear Starclan, she has a crush on my brother! That’s the last thing we need right now!” Hollyleaf thought, feeling her emotions in a whirl.

Hollyleaf grunted as she struggled to pull one of the branches off the den, she was too wrapped up in her mind. 

“Here let me help,” Cinderheart grasped the branch in her jaws as well, and they pulled it off together. Hollyleaf dropped the branch, licking her paw and ran it over her muzzle.  

“Lionblaze is alright. We’re all pretty shaken up.” She finally squeaked out. 

“I’ll have to check on him later. Perhaps I can go hunting and bring him back a fresh vole.”

Hollyleaf stared at Cinderheart who was now staring at her brother across the camp. Cinderheart quivered with a nervous yet steady purr. Her eyes were half closed with contentment. Hollyleaf felt slightly envious. She doubted she would ever find a mate or even find a time in her life to. She was part of the three, she had a larger destiny and that also included becoming leader of Thunderclan one day if she had the chance. 

Lionblaze now having taken notice of the two she cats trotted over to them. 

“Hollyleaf, Jayfeather needs us to go with him to find herbs. A lot was still destroyed in the fire,” he said before turning to Cinderheart. “I’ll try to bring back some prey for you while we’re gone.” 

Hollyleaf felt herself roll her eyes so hard they would pop out. 

Cinderheart purred as she ran her tail over Lionblaze’s shoulder.

“Thank you. You should go Hollyleaf, I’ll get Foxpaw to help me finish with the warriors den.” Hollyleaf nodded following her brother over to Jayfeather who was already waiting for them at the now cleared tunnel. 

The three siblings headed out into the forest. The scent of smoke and fire hung heavy in the air, the trees were blackened and their bark crumbled at the touch. Even the dead leaves that had littered the forest floor had turned to nothing but soot. Hollyleaf sighed, heaviness hung in her chest as she lifted her paw that was now blackened. 

“Everything is destroyed. It’s going to take a long time for the forest to heal. Is Thunderclan going to make it?” She wondered, continuing to follow after her brothers. 

“We need to talk about what happened last night.” Jayfeather finally spoke, as they were now far out of earshot of other cats. 

“Agreed.” Lionblaze chimed in. “First things first we need to stop Ashfur from telling the clan.” Hollyleaf rolled her eyes.

“I doubt that fox heart will do anything. He got what he wanted… he hurt Squirrelflight by making her tell us the truth. He’s torn our family apart.” Hollyleaf growled her ears pinned back. She wished Ashfur was in front of her now so she could tear his pelt off. Lionblaze scoffs at his sister. 

“Do you really think that? You saw him last night! He was willing to let that fire kill us! I’m sure he would have! You don’t know Ashfur like I do! He was my mentor and let me tell you he will do anything to hurt Squirrelflight!” Lionblaze snapped, his claws flexing digging into the soft sooty earth.

“Perhaps we should let him tell the clan.” Jayfeather muttered. Hollyleaf spun looking at her brother letting out an astonished gasp.

“Do you have bees in your brain!?” she growled at him.

“Squrrielflight already let the truth out. The consequences will come no matter what….its just a matter of time. Besides what will Ashfur say? That he threatened to let us burn to death all over his inability to let Squirrelflight go?” Jayfeather’s voice was very matter of fact. “He will be exiled or even killed, but I doubt he’s thought that far ahead. He’s too blinded with rage. Squirrelflight could possibly be exiled, but I doubt Firestar would do that to his daughter.”

“What about us?” Hollyleaf quickly reminded him. “Thunderclan will turn on us if they find out the truth! What will our clan mates think, even if we aren’t exiled...wait...if we’re not Squrrielflight’s kits are we even the three…” Hollyleaf’s voice trailed off into a whisper. Her stomach felt like it was in knots, her legs felt like they would buckle, as she struggled to breath.

“Starclan how could we be so mouse brained! There’s nothing special about us!” Hollyleaf wailed. “Of course Jayfeather can see into dreams he’s a medicine cat! Lionblaze you’re just a warrior any cat could fight as well as you with practice...and I’m just ....” Hollyleaf wailed, her voice trailing off into a whimper. Hollyleaf had always wondered when her power would appear. Jayfeather and Lionblaze had always seemed to have had their powers since kithood, yet she had been left behind. Now she knew why, they were ordinary cats. They weren’t chosen by Starclan if anything Starclan hated them! 

Lionblaze stepped closer to his sister running his tail down her spine. Hollyleaf sighed heavily leaning against her brother, taking comfort in her brother. 

“I don’t think that's true...we have to be related to Firestar in some way!” he reassured her. 

“But we aren’t! There’s no possible way! The only way we could be related to Firestar is through Leafpool and she’s a medicine cat! She can’t have a mate or kits!” Hollyleaf growled. Her tail lashed as her fur bristled standing on end. She felt like she couldn’t breath, her whole world was collapsing in on her and Ashfur had been the one to take it away. Hollyleaf bared her teeth, scrapping at the dirt with her claws sending chunks of earth behind her.

“We should kill him...that would silence him forever.” she hissed. Her brothers looked at her bewildered. 

“Hollyleaf we can’t do that...if we did we would actually be exiled then!” Lionblaze spoke, his voice lowered in bewilderment. Jayfeather calmly laid his tail on her shoulder. Hollyleaf turned and looked at him, as she did she felt her rage beginning to cool. Jayfeather’s face was soft with reassurement, but also filled with extreme worry. 

“Don’t worry we’ll find a way to stop him. I’ll walk in his dreams, maybe the threat of the wrath of Starclan will be enough to scare him into silence.” he said, his voice a bit more chipper, hopeful even. Hollyleaf’s fur fell flat and she sighed.

“We should still keep the secret to ourselves....after we stop Ashfur from ever speaking about this we need to find who our parents are.” she planned. Her brothers nodded in agreement. As the three went to finally find herbs and prey Hollyleaf made a promise to herself.

If Jayfeather couldn’t stop Ashfur, she would in any way possible. 

#warriors ashfur #warrior au #warriors squirrelflight #hollyleaf #jayfeather #Lionblaze #ashfur #squrrielflight

[deripmaver]

4 5 6 for ALL OF THE CaPri FANFICS

LKSJMDHGVLKSJ ALL OF THEM???

4: What’s your favorite line of dialogue? 5: What part was hardest to write? 6: What makes this fic special or different from all your other fics?

Ink On Paper (tongue fic) 4. lmfaoooooooo there isn't a whole lot of dialogue in this one oop-

Laurent nodded. The wax softened as he pressed his hand into it, erasing his previous message. Soft, warm, melting under his touch. He wrote again, I need someone who is not afraid to read out the insults I make towards the idiots at court. You have been fired, Damianos.

i guess it technically counts lmfao. i just wanted to show laurent post-trauma still able to make jokes and snipe at his husband so it wasnt all doom and gloom 5. i'm not sure exactly what "hardest to write" here means because like... a lot of these fic have serious gore or otherwise upsetting content, but both emotionally and actually writing wise i find that kind of thing actually pretty easy to write hahahaha. i think i got stuck with the chronology and the decision to make it non-linear made it flow a lot better. for the record writing laurent getting raped and then having his tongue cut out was actually very easy to write, i think i got it out in basically one go. #cancelme the more fucked up and intense the easier i find to nyoom through it 6. my first ever fic in the capri fandom!!!! hehehehhehehe <333333 Level Of Concern (plan B fic) 4.

Before Nicaise could say anything, Laurent spat, “Does he know you had your first heat?”

SURPRISE nic was the one who was pregnant the whole time!!!!!!! 5. this one i banged out REALLY quickly so i cant think of anything here 6. capri omegaverse!!!!!!! i wish there was more of this 🥺🥺🥺 Like Me (what if Auguste was also abused fic) 4. ******CW INCEST MENTION CW ABUSE MENTION******

“Your brother’s stuck his dick in every single member of your family,” Auguste spat out, laughing, crying, and so miserable he thought his heart would stop. His voice rose again, and he felt something burst from him as he screamed for the whole world to hear, “Did you know that? Did you, huh papa? Did he fuck you too?”

dude this line is so fucked up lmfao but i enjoyed writing it so much. actually this entire scene where auguste is having his breakdown was really intense to write and im really pleased with how it came out OR

Auguste grabbed him suddenly, looking up into his grief-stricken face desperately. “Please, Laurent,” he pleaded, voice breaking. “Please. Don’t let him end up like me.”

i felt entirely too clever with this line lmfao. i was like ~ooooohhhhh title drop~ im so dumb 5. i just remember this one like. dragged on for some time. i couldnt figure out what to do with it, how to get everything to coalesce around the final reveal about auguste 6. plot twist!!!!!!! plus auguste angst. i really enjoyed this one, i wrote it after watching the movie Spotlight which is one of my all time faves Softly, Gently 4.

“My King has been overexerting himself again, I presume?” Paschal sighed, shaking his head with a fond smile. “When have I ever done that?” Laurent cocked his head to the side, a wry smile on his face.

hehehehe sassy laurent my beloved <33333 5. honestly im just going to skip this one from now on lskjghmvlksjhglkvsjhdl i just get "stuck" sometimes without rhyme or reason and its usually on boring stuff, but then i cant remember later. the hardest part for me is when my dumb fucking adhd brain wont let me focus on writing but once i overcome that its usually pretty smooth sailing 6. horny omegaverse.................... my beloved............... giving men vaginas for horny reasons my beloved......................... Water of Life (birth fic)

“Do you want to hold him?” Erasmus breathed, eyes glassy. The baby cried, Erasmus bouncing him tenderly in those sunkissed arms. He looked apologetic. “Only for a moment, it’s not quite over yet.” A playful smile danced on Erasmus’ lips, and he brushed away a slick, damp curl from the wailing baby’s head. “A head this big, he certainly takes after Exalted.”

a cute, fun lil line in the sea of horrible angst lmfao ORRRRRR

Erasmus knelt before Damen, before Laurent. He said, “Exalted… Can you command his Highness to push?” Damen froze. “Do you mean…?” Erasmus nodded. “Alpha command.” Damen’s expression crumpled. He said, in a voice that shattered Erasmus’ heart, “I can’t. I can’t do that to him.” Erasmus licked his lips. “Exalted, in this state, he can’t push. His contractions are weaker. He’ll-” “I can’t,” Damen cried, clinging to Laurent’s limp body like a lifeline. “He’d… He’d never forgive me.”

damen is so sweet........ he loves laurent so much...... ORRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

He stopped at the doorframe, turning to face Laurent with tears in his eyes, and whispered, “How long does it take, your Highness?” Laurent, shocked enough to respond, hissed, “What?” “I still wake up in the middle of the night thinking of it,” Erasmus said, voice thick in his throat, tears burning at his eyes. “How long until it’s over?”

real sad hours if u up click like. i love erasmus and laurent bonding over their shared trauma <33333333333333333333 laurent and erasmus friendship propaganda 24-fucking-7 bay bee!!!!! 6. unironically this is one of my fav fic ive ever written skdljmfhgvlksjdhflmgkvjshldkjfghvmls call the midwife is one of my favorite shows and writing this made me look at birth as something visceral and possibly horrible and traumatic. i wanna write more fucked up birth scenes, SO MANY MORE. ridley scott knew what he was doing Sandalwood (erasmus/kallias my sweet boys i love u so much) 4.

“I do,” Erasmus breathes, ducking his head, flushed as though embarrassed. “In the gardens, the perfume from the orange trees all around us on those summer nights.” Kallias smiles behind him – Erasmus knows his body so intimately he can feel it in how Kallias’ posture changes, though he can’t see the soft turn of his lips. “The scent was so cloying I thought it would drive me mad. It made me want to kiss you senseless.” Erasmus laughs, breathlessly, imagining the warm heat of Kallias’ mouth against his. “Don’t blame that on the orange trees, dear one.”

beloved..................... im weeping.......... 6. these two make me fuckign CRY ON THE REG I LOVE THEM SO MUCH MY SWEET BOYS YOU DESERVE THE WORLD- Wisps of Smoke******************* (lauguste fic) 4. ***CW EXPLICIT INCEST*** (i mean....... obviously lmfao)

“Call me what I like,” Auguste growled against his ear. “You know what I like.” He did. Laurent did. He knew everything Auguste liked – the slow flick of Laurent’s tongue on the underside of his cock, that tender spot behind his earlobe, the way Laurent’s thighs looked straddled atop him like his horse – and this. “Brother,” Laurent gasped, desperate, “Brother, please, harder. Harder.”

i wanted the incest to be explicitly part of the kink here lmfaoooooo 6. hehehehehehehhehehehhehe lauguste................... i need to write more of u But I Love It (laurent is allergic to latex fic) 4.

“Laurent,” Auguste said, voice high in warning. Laurent braced himself, stiffening visibly. With what seemed to be monumental effort, Auguste continued, “You know, Laurent. I’m proud of you.”

IM A SOFT BITCH OK???????????????? auguste is PROUD of his baby bro for overcoming his sexual trauma and getting that fat dick 6. SLJHVDLMKJDHGVLK PEOPLE FUCKING LOVED THIS FIC i tried to be funny and i think it worked. plus some softe bits thrown in. i also kind of see lots of humor fic where its a no abuse au, but i wanted to write something comedic where the regent still. existed u kno????? anyways hahahahha i dont think i can write anything like this again but im glad y'all liked it Is It Cold In The Water (slice of life fic) 4.

Laurent opens his mouth to say something cheeky, but instead, what comes out is: “Do you think Aimeric had the right idea?” Damen is quiet for so long, gaze serious and framed with his long, dark lashes, that Laurent wonders if he’d spoken aloud at all – and when he’s sure he had, he realizes Damen had remembered Aimeric after all. When he speaks again, the sleep is gone from his voice. “Laurent,” Damen says carefully, as though approaching a spooked horse, “Is something wrong?”

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 soft,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, 6. ruby likes this fic lskjdvhmflgksfjdhmvglkjsdhflkvgmjhlekjfhdvlgskjfhv im a SIMP- The Devil's Got Nothing On Me (AIMERIC FIC LEGGOOOO) 4. there are lots of lil nuggets in here!!!!

Aimeric blinks, and all he can think is, you knew? He says, "I – I just." "I am a patient man," Guion breathes, "I support everyone in my household. Everyone. But Aimeric, you are truly testing my patience. Your mother came to me in tears, begging me to find you. Look at what you did to her! There was nothing I could say until we found you!" "I'm sorry," Aimeric whispers, looking at Loyse, "I'm-" "Look at me," Guion roars.

this conversation was inspired by a very miserable encounter with my boss lmfao. fuck that guy and fuck guion

The regent, blue eyes sparkling - and Aimeric has never thought eyes could look just like a summer sky until now - says to Guion but really to Aimeric, "I was thinking I could take little Aimeric riding tomorrow. Just the two of us." Loyse says, before Guion can speak, voice trembling with relief, "I think that's a wonderful idea, your Highness."

~dramatic irony~ lmfaoooooooooo. WE know of course that this is a bad thing, but it's always fun to have characters make bad choices that they have no idea are bad. i also did this briefly in "Like Me" with auguste's ex wife taking nicaise to church because she was so overwhelmed at home and he offered to help. of course, the regent is always happy to help out. evil evil evil

"-was worried it might be difficult for him." A soft, lilting laugh. The guards had said the regent was in the library, and then there is Guion, right there with him. Aimeric is suddenly angry, not sure why his father is with the regent, who is his and no one else's. The regent responds, "I daresay it's been perfectly easy. It seems you've done most of the work already."

i wanted to highlight the fact that it was aimeric's neglect that lead him to the regent in the first place. hence "youve done most of the work already" - guion by ignoring and neglecting aimeric created the perfect environment for the regent to sweep in and take advantage. like leaving food out btwn 40-140 F is a perfect breeding ground for bacteria LOL. the books touch on that but i wanted to make it explicit

He is so, so ashamed. It's unbearable, the thought of her kind eyes, the way she cried for him, the way he pushed her away. Before he'd left to join the prince's guard, she had taken his hand, kissed it, and said in a voice fragile as glass, "It's been such a long time since I've seen you smile like that," but in that moment he could think only of the regent's letter warm in his pocket.

6. honestly i know ive sounded super conceited this whole time but i kind of tear up whenever i read through the end of the fic lmfao. aimeric is just so fucking depressing as a character and i love that i really got to explore that in this fic. he really didnt have anyone, did he????? he's like a tragic greek character where you just watch him stumbling towards his inevitable end and it hurts the whole time. its even worse on the reread ANYWAYYYYYYY thats it. thanks so much for the ask anon!!!!!!! feel free to send me more!!!

#captive prince fanfic #captive prince #captive prince fanfiction #ask meme #capri fanfic

[kreepykix]

Peachy (Chapter 3)

 a/n: here we go, last chapter. enjoy and thank u for reading <3

Chapter 1  Chapter 2

You headed to school, dread sinking in your stomach as you parked in the crowded lot. You hadn’t failed to notice Romans red Road Coaster so you knew he was at school. You snuck through the front doors, bee lining for the ladies bathroom and spending all your time till class sitting in a stall, avoiding the human race altogether. You heard the bell, rushing to your first period, stopping dead in the hall as you came face to face with Peter. 

Your eyes were wide, “Hi,” You said quietly and he lightly grabbed your arm, pulling you into a small, unused hallway. 

“Where have you been?” He asked with a hushed voice but it was clear he was pissed. 

You were shocked to say the least, “Home, I’ve needed some time to process things.” You turned your head, looking to see if there was anyone around, there wasn’t. “Finding our one of your only friends turns into a wolf isn’t exactly easy news.” You spat with a glare. 

“It wasn’t like that and you know it. It wasn’t safe for you to know, it still isn’t but it’s too late now.  You need to find Roman. I’m not sure what you told him but he’s been throwing himself at anything in heels since you left, he’s drowning and you need to save him.” He said, eyes pleading. 

You turned, not making eye contact, “I can’t. I said something I shouldn’t have and I don’t think he’ll be wanting to speak to me anytime soon,” You explained, lip quivering and throat burning as you pressed the tears back. You really missed your best friend. 

“Yeah, and if I didn’t know Roman I’d agree with you since he doesn’t even want to hear your name, but since I do know him I know he’s hurting and that he just misses you. So, whatever you said, fix it. For the sake of you both.” Peter laid a hand on your shoulder, begging you silently. 

You stared for a moment before rolling your eyes and nodding, “Fine. Do you know where he is?” You asked and Peter smiled in victory. 

“Try the stairwell in the back, you know that’s where he likes to hide.” Peter said with a reassuring smile before heading off to his first period and leaving you with your thoughts. You raked your hands down your face once before sighing deeply and heading to the stairwell. You pushed open the door and peered in. Roman was facing away from you, slumped on the bottom step, and from the smoke wafting around him, clearly smoking a cigarette. You lightly made your way down the steps, your shoes making the smallest of pats as you descended. You sat down next to him on the step, taking the cigarette from him without even glancing at his face and taking a drag. You seldom smoked but hey, you were going through it so why not. As you exhaled you finally turned, making eye contact with Roman. His eyes were sunken and a frown seemed to be permanently etched on his lips. You gave a thin-lipped smile, “Hey, Rome.” 

He chuckled sarcastically, shaking his head, “You’re fucking kidding right?”

“What do you expect me to say?” You threw out your hands in exasperation. 

“Well for starters you could explain where you’ve been all fucking week.” He rolled his eyes, plucking the cigarette from between your lips and taking a long drag himself. 

“I’ve been home… processing,” You frowned, staring intently at the step in front of you and pretending as if that were who you were speaking to. 

“You said you had feelings for me.” He said it softly, voice barely above a whisper but it echoed through the barren stairway anyway, the phrase rattling through your brain as you realized you weren’t getting out of this one. 

You just wanted to be done with it, honesty seemed like the best way to go. “I wasn’t lying.” You turned for a moment, meeting his searing gaze before returning your focus to the step below you, it was easier that way. “I know you don’t want to hear that but it’s true and if you could just give me some time to get over it and not be so public with your ‘conquests’ that would be great.” Your breath caught as you felt his fingertips along your cheekbone. Your eyes were wide as you met his which were burning with something like longing. 

“I’ve missed you,” His voice dropped to a whisper and you felt your lip tremble before a tear slipped down your cheek. His brows crinkled in confusion. “Why’re you crying?”

“You’re confusing me,” You confessed. “It’s already gonna be hard for me to get over these feelings, I don’t need you saying these sweet things that just make it worse.” Your voice wavered as your lip trembled with the struggle of keeping your emotions in check. 

“Oh, Y/N you don’t get it.” He cupped your cheek, turning your face to his. He leaned in slowly, giving you time to pull away and when you didn’t he pressed your lips together in a kiss that started gentle but quickly built to searing, leaving you gasping for breath when he finally pulled away. 

“Please tell me that you actually feel something and you’re not just trying to make me feel better or worse, just get into my pants—“ You felt hysteria bubbling up before Roman cut you off, pulling you into a crushing embrace, holding you to him like you were the only stable thing in the world. 

“No, Y/N, no, you know I have a hard time admitting my feelings but I’m gonna say this now and I want you to hear me and understand.” He paused to pull back so you were eye to eye. “I’ve always felt something for you, I was just never going to act on it because you deserve more than me or the shit I come with but I’m gonna be a piece of shit right now and steal you because I can’t lose you and knowing you feel even a bit of what I feel for you has made me a mad man and I can’t let you go. I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you about Peter, I’m sorry I didn’t show up to your house and drag your ass out of bed,” By now he was peppering kisses everywhere, cheek, chin, eyelid, any inch of skin he could reach his lips would find and you were giggling as tears found their way out of your closed eyes. “I shouldn’t have froze when you told me. My mind was trying to catch up to the fact that you felt something for a fucker like me and by the time I realized and had processed the door was already closed. I figured I had fucked up so I have been trying to get over you but I fucking can’t! Every time I go up to another girl I just see your face,” He dragged you into his lap and leaned his forehead to yours. “Please don’t leave me again,” It was a whisper and you threw your arms around his neck, somehow pulling yourself even closer. 

You were grinning ear to ear, “Never.” Bringing your lips to his once again, you couldn’t help but feel like you were finally right where you were supposed to be. 

#Roman Godfrey #romangodfrey #roman godfrey x reader #romangodfreyxreader #hemlock grove #hemlockgrove #hemlock grove fanfic #hemlock grove fanfiction #bill skarsgard #bill skarsgård fanfiction

[deansmom]

ao3 this is 4.1k of a couple times dean wanted to say it, and the one time cas did. warning for: crypt scene

The first time Dean wants to say it, they’re standing on a street in the middle of nowhere. 

Cas just pulled him out of some weird future universe, and Dean lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

He turns his head and sees Cas, and has to fight back a smile.

“That’s pretty nice timing, Cas.”

Castiel’s face morphs into something that’s almost a smile. It makes Dean’s chest warm in a way that he wasn’t expecting.

“We had an appointment.”

It’s so stupid. It’s such a stupid, stupid thing to say and it knocks the wind out of him. Dean smiles, huffing a laugh as he sets a hand on Cas’ shoulder.

He’s had a thing for Cas for a while now, as much as he hates to admit it. He doesn’t understand it, he feels weird about it - he’s a fucking angel, for Christ’s sake - but he does. 

Dean wonders, for just a moment, what Cas would do if he said it. If he just said something like, ‘I think I love you. I think I love you and that scares the hell out of me, man.’

Instead, he squeeze’s Cas’ shoulder and stops his other hand just short of touching Castiel’s cheek.

“Don’t ever change.”

                                                          🖤

The next time Dean wants to say it, he’s fighting back tears looking at Cas trapped in a ring of holy fire.

He hears his brother say, “Did you bring me back soulless... on purpose?”

Dean’s chest aches at the way Castiel’s face contorts. 

“How could you think that?”

Sam sneers a little, his own way of showing his betrayal, “Well, I’m thinking a lot of things right now, Cas.”

Castiel looks equal parts angry and devastated. Dean wants nothing more than to reach across the flames and grab his hands.

“Listen. Raphael will kill us all. He'll turn the world into a graveyard. I had no choice.“

Dean hears his own voice before his brain registers that he’s speaking.

“No, you had a choice. You just made the wrong one.”

Castiel looks at him, hurt written all over his face, and Dean’s stomach churns at the sight of it. 

God, this right here, this is why Dean doesn’t do relationships.

“You don’t understand.” Cas’s voice sounds tired, “It’s complicated.”

Dean wants to laugh.

“No, actually, it's not, and you know that.” He wants to yell and scream, angry at the world and angry at Cas for pulling this shit. “Why else would you keep this whole thing a secret, huh, unless you knew that it was wrong? When crap like this comes around, we deal with it... Like we always have. What we don't do is we don't go out and make another deal with the Devil!”

He might be yelling now, but he’s desperate. 

He wants to yell that he would have done anything to help Cas, that it isn’t Castiel’s job to protect Dean anymore. That they’re a family, they’re a team, and they protect each other. He wants to yell something stupid and cliche like, ‘I love you, you idiot!’ 

Castiel’s face looks like he might be able to read Dean’s mind.

“It sounds so simple when you say it like that. Where were you when I needed to hear it?”

That practically knocks the wind out of him, the sincerity in the question.

Dean huffs a breath that’s maybe supposed to be a laugh, maybe not.

“I was there. Where were you?”

His brain keeps pulling up clips from every stupid romcom he’s ever watched. Every desperate love confession flashes before his eyes and it just makes Dean want to throw himself into the fire.

“You should’ve come to us for help, Cas.”

Castiel sighs, “Maybe,” and looks like he wants to reach out for Dean.

A loud whirring noise engulfs the cabin they’re standing in, a cloud of demon smoke heading straight for them.

“It’s too late now. I can’t turn back now. I can’t.”

Dean feels frantic with it, the desire to drag Cas back to safety, “It’s not too late! Damn it Cas, we can fix this!”

We can fix this together, you idiot. I love you Cas, please. 

“Dean,” Castiel yells as the wind gets louder, “It’s not broken! Run. You have to run, now!”

                                                         🖤

The third time Dean wants to say it, wants to tell Cas, it feels like he’s talking to a stranger.

“Thanks for the lift.” 

They’re standing in a barn looking at the end of the world and Cas isn’t himself. He doesn’t want to fight anymore, he wants to watch the bees. He looks like Cas, sounds like Cas, but it isn’t - 

“Dean...” Castiel follows him for a moment and stops a couple steps away.

Dean turns to look at him, tired as hell and without the energy to hear it anymore. “Cas, we've been over it. I get it – you can't help.”

He’s not mad.

He might’ve been, for a while, but he was more angry with himself than anything... ok, he was mad at Cas too, just a little bit. He was pissed that when Dean needed him, really fucking needed him, he was broken. 

And he knows that’s not fair, truly he knows, but it’s hard to not be angry when the world is probably going to end and the one person Dean thought he could always, always count on just isn’t... himself. 

Castiel kicks the ground in front of him, not quite meeting Dean’s eyes when he asks, “If we attack Dick and fail, then you and Sam die heroically, correct?”

Dean looks at him, confused, and just kinda huffs something that’s maybe a laugh.

“I don’t know. I guess.”

Cas sounds a little bit more lucid than he has today, but still not quite like himself.

“And at best, I die trying to fix my own stupid mistake. Or... I don't die – I'm brought back again. I see now. It's a punishment resurrection. It's worse every time.”

Dean resists the urge to roll his eyes, taking a half step towards Cas, “I'm sorry. Uh, we're talking about God crap, right?”

This time Castiel meets his eyes, “I’m not good luck Dean.”

And that’s just not true.

It takes all of Dean’s control to not grab Cas by the shoulders and tell him just how much that isn’t true.

“Yeah, but you know what? Bottom of the ninth, and you're the only guy left on the bench... Sorry,” Dean shrugs, making sure that Cas doesn’t look away from him. “But I'd rather have you, cursed or not.”

His heart skips a beat when his brain realizes what just came out of his mouth.

He shifts a little, uncomfortable with the slip, “And anyway, nut up, all right? We're all cursed. I seem like good luck to you?”

Castiel is staring at him like he knows what Dean wanted to say.

He screws up his face a little, trying not to sound as defensive as he feels. “What?”

Castiel might be smiling at him. Maybe.

“Well, I don't want to make you uncomfortable, but I detect a note of forgiveness.”

He doesn’t have the energy to deny it any more.

“Yeah, well, I’m probably going to die tomorrow, so...”

Dean stops himself from saying something stupid like, ‘so there’s no point in me lying to you anymore, Cas.’

“Well,” Castiel squares his shoulders and looks away for a moment before meeting Dean’s eyes again. “I'll go with you. And I'll do my best.”

And if that isn’t just the damndest thing.

Dean’s lungs seize for a moment, his throat closing on a confession neither of them need right now. He’s overwhelmed with something that he thinks is equal parts grief and contentment, for just a brief moment. 

And you know, in all the time they’ve known each other, Cas just has this way of saying things sometimes that take Dean’s breath away.

And maybe that’s dumb or cliche or hell, embarrassing even, but it’s true. 

He just told Cas, this Cas who doesn’t want to fight anymore, that tomorrow he’s going off to die. He’s going to sacrifice himself to save the world. 

The fucker didn’t even blink. Didn’t have to think about it for a second. 

Dean would be shocked if he didn’t know that if their roles were reversed, he would’ve said the same thing. 

Instead of saying any of that, he offers Cas a small smile. 

“Thanks.”

Castiel bounces a little on his feet, his voice going a little melodic, “So... Can I ask, the plan?” 

Dean wants to kiss that stupid look off his face.

                                                         🖤

The next time, Dean almost says it.

He breaks through the brush first and sees Castiel kneeling in front of the stream. His knees feel weak with the relief of seeing that god awful trench coat.

“Cas!” Dean yells before he can stop himself, before Benny can either.

Cas looks up from the stream, like he doesn’t know if that voice is real or not, “Dean?”

Dean walks quickly down the bank and over to Cas, Benny on his heels.

He hasn’t felt this much relief in years. Seeing Cas turn to face them feels like a million pounds has been lifted from Dean’s chest. 

“Cas,” he laughs a little bit as he pulls his best friend into a tight hug. “Damn, it’s good to see you.”

He steps back finally after a moment, the grin on his face already making his cheeks hurt. He reaches out without thinking about it and brushes a hand over Castiel’s new beard, “Nice peach fuzz.”

Castiel looks a little bewildered, like he’s not sure if this is real, “Thank you.”

Dean gestures back to Benny, afraid to take his eyes off of Cas, “You should meet somebody. This is Benny. Benny, this is Cas.”

Benny raises a hand in acknowledgement, “Hola.”

Castiel spares him a glance for a moment before turning to look at Dean again, “How did you find me?”

Dean huffs a laugh, “The bloody way.” He moves his axe as if to show it off before asking, “You feeling ok?”

“You mean am I still...” Castiel points to his head, making circles with his fingers.

It shouldn’t be as endearing as it is.

He’s still grinning when he says, “Yeah, if you want to be on the nose about it, sure.”

Castiel huffs, “No. I'm perfectly sane. But, then, 94% of psychotics think they're perfectly sane, so I guess we'd have to ask ourselves, ‘what is sane?’”

Dean lets himself look over Cas again, warmth feeling his chest that he hasn’t felt since before they got themselves thrown into this godforsaken land. 

“That’s a good question.”

Benny’s voice breaks through the haze for a brief moment.

“Why’d you bail on Dean?”

Dean’s head snaps over to glare at his friend, incredulous, “Dude -”

Benny glares at Dean, impatience rolling off of him in waves, “The way I hear it, you two hit monster land, and hot wings here took off. I figure he owes you some backstory.”

He rolls his eyes a little, annoyed to have this conversation with Benny again.

“Look, we were surrounded, okay? Some freak jumped Cas. Obviously, he kicked its ass, right?”

He looks over at Cas, smiling and motioning for Cas to tell him.

“No.”

Dean feels like someone punched him. “What?”

Castiel swallows, “I ran away.”

“You ran away?”

“I had to.”

“That's your excuse for leaving me with those gorilla-wolves?”

“Dean –”

He’s seething now, any relief he felt before quickly evaporating. “You bailed out and, what, went camping? I prayed to you, Cas, every night.”

Castiel looks down, ashamed. “I know.”

Dean feels like he might throw up. “You know and you didn't...” 

The words get caught in his throat, no longer angry and just hurt. “What the hell's wrong with you?”

Castiel looks determined, but he still won’t meet Dean’s eyes for longer than half a second. “I am an angel in a land of abominations. There have been things hunting me from the moment we arrived.”

Dean laughs bitterly, “Join the club!”

“These are not just monsters, Dean. They're Leviathan. I have a price on my head, and I've been trying to stay one step ahead of them, to –”

Castiel takes a breath and looks up at Dean again, this time meeting his eyes.

“To keep them away from you. That's why I ran.” 

Again, there he goes again, saying shit that just knocks the wind out of Dean.

“Just leave me, please.”

Benny nods and readjusts his own weapon on his shoulder, “Sounds like a plan. Let's roll.”

Dean reaches out to stop him, not taking his eyes off Cas, “Hold on, hold on. Cas, we're getting out of here. We're going home.”

To his credit, Castiel looks apologetic when he says, “Dean, I can't.”

The self-sacrificing idiot makes Dean’s chest ache with the urge to kiss that look off of his face.

“You can. Benny, tell him.”

Benny sighs in the most put upon way that Dean’s ever heard from someone that isn’t Sam.

“Purgatory has an escape hatch, but I got no idea if it's angel-friendly.”

It doesn’t even register with Dean that this isn’t a foolproof plan.

“We'll figure it out. Cas, buddy, I need you.”

He opens his arms as if he’s going to hug Cas again, but just ends up gesturing vaguely so he doesn’t do something stupid like kiss his best friend.

Castiel looks pained, like he can read Dean’s mind, “Dean...”

Something in Cas’s voice fills Dean with some renewed hope, that he might be breaking through to him.

“And if Leviathan want to take a shot at us, let ‘em. We ganked those bitches once before. We can do it again.”

He wonders briefly if he sounds as desperate as he feels.

Dean’s been running through purgatory for god knows how long looking for Cas, scared that he was gonna lose Cas - and now he’s here. He’s in front of him, and Dean feels like it’s worse than wearing his heart on his sleeve.

Castiel sighs, looking away for a moment, “It's too dangerous.”

Feeling brave, Dean steels himself to say, “Let me bottom-line it for you. I'm not leaving here without you. Understand?”

His heart his hammering so loud in his chest that it’s all he can hear. 

He wants to say that he’s sorry for the last couple years. He’s sorry he wasn’t there to protect Cas. He’s sorry he didn’t tell him sooner, that he didn’t tell Cas how much he loves him. How he gets it, why Cas worked with Crowley, and he can’t even find it in himself to be mad anymore.

Castiel’s answer surprises him, “I understand.”

Sometimes Dean wonders if Cas can hear his thoughts.

                                                         🖤

The next time, Dean does say it.

Or at least, he tries to say it.

Castiel isn’t himself again. 

Dean’s known that for a while now, but he’s been too scared to admit it to himself. 

It’s kind of hard to ignore it now as Castiel’s fist connects with his face again.

“Oh,” he grunts out, choking a little bit on some blood. 

He can’t see anything out of one eye and he reaches out, trying to stop his hands from connecting with his face again, “Cas.” 

Dean misses the first grab, feeling weak, and tries again, “Cas.” 

He’s terrified but as fucked up as it is, he’s not scared for himself. He’s scared that Cas is going to kill him and Dean won’t be able to tell him that it’s ok, he knows it’s not Castiel’s fault.

There’s more blood in his throat now so the words come out more as a gurgle, “I know you're in there.”

Cas raises his angel blade up, ready to strike, and Dean resigns himself to it.

“I know you can hear me,” he tries again. “Cas...” He hears his own voice break with it and Dean knows that he’s begging. If it was anyone else, for any other reason, he’d rather die than beg but this is different. “It's me.”

Dean tries to open the eye that’s swollen shut as he meets Castiel’s empty eyes, one of his hands finally landing on Cas’s wrist. “We're family. We need you...”

There’s so much he could say. He could tell Cas that he knows this isn’t him, that he’s sorry he hasn’t done anything to help him yet, that he’s sorry he’s been avoiding him. He’s just been so fucking scared to lose him again.

Dean’s known that he’s been in love with Cas for years, but he didn’t realize how much he needed Cas until they got back from purgatory. 

He wants to say it. He should say it.

“I need you.”

Shit.

All at once, it’s like Dean can see a flip being switched in Cas.

Castiel drops the angel blade and Dean finally lets himself fall forward with the pain and relief of it all. A bright light fills the room for a moment and Dean briefly registers it before looking up again.

“Cas?” His voice sounds like he’s been gargling glass and fuck, Cas doesn’t look like himself quite yet. 

Dean tries to take a full breath and can’t, his ribs hurting too much, “Cas?”

Castiel reaches towards him and Dean hates himself for it, but he flinches, seeing his life flash before his eyes for a brief second.

“No. Cas. Cas!”

instead of a final blow, Dean just feels Castiel’s hand rest on his cheek and the familiar warmth of his Grace flowing through him.

“I'm so sorry, Dean.”

                                                         🖤

After that, there’s plenty of moments where Dean feels like this might be the right time to say it. Maybe.

He thinks about saying it when he’s in that hospital church, praying for help.

He thinks about saying it when they find Cas in that apartment, human and dead.

He thinks about telling him when he picks Cas up from babysitting his boss’s daughter. 

He thinks about telling him on every phone call, every text, every email they send.

He thinks about saying it when they find Cas with an army, and Cas chooses Dean over his family.

Even when he was a demon, there was a moment where Dean almost called him to taunt Cas with the knowledge that once upon a time, Dean loved him more than anything. 

He almost tells him one morning when they’re eating at a shitty roadside diner and Sam gets up to go to the bathroom.

Eventually, Dean just accepts that maybe they’re not supposed to have this.

Castiel can’t technically read his mind, but there’s no way in hell that he doesn’t know how Dean feels. And Dean reasons that hey, if Cas doesn’t feel the need to say it, maybe he doesn’t feel the same way.

Maybe Charlie and Benny and Jody have all been wrong, and it really is as one-sided as Dean’s always suspected.

Castiel? An actual angel of the lord, no matter how poor of an excuse for one Cas thought he was, love Dean? Dean Winchester?

Now, that, that’s crazy. 

So when Cas opens his big stupid mouth and says, “I never found an answer because the one thing I want, it’s something I know I can’t have.”

Dean’s heart just stops working. 

His brain feels like a record that gets caught on one skip for too long because the words “can’t have” keep repeating over and over and over.

Castiel smiles a little bit, and he’s crying and Dean feels like he’s back in that cabin again, looking at Cas through a ring of holy fire.

“But I think I know now, happiness isn’t in the having, it’s in the being. It’s in just saying it.”

Dean knows that happiness isn’t in the having, because even when he’s had Cas, had him in his bed or in the Impala or even just in the bunker, it’s a very empty happiness. It’s a happiness that’s underscored by the desperation of knowing that it’s ever-so fleeting and temporary. 

He hears himself say, “What are you talking about, man?”

And there Cas goes again, just knocking him off his fucking feet like it’s nothing.

“I know how you see yourself, Dean. You see yourself the same way our enemies sees you. You’re destructive, you’re angry and you’re broken and you’re Daddy’s blunt instrument.”

Dean’s stomach lurches because of course Cas thinks all of that, but he doesn’t deserve it, he doesn’t deserve that. He doesn’t deserve Castiel giving him the benefit of the doubt, not when they both know that it isn’t fucking true.

"You think that hate and anger, that’s what drives you, that’s what you are.” Castiel offers him a smile and it kinda makes Dean want to die.

“It’s not.”

It is, though.

Castiel’s crying more now and Dean’s reminded of purgatory, of that desperate need to grab him and fix everything but he can’t. He can’t and he doesn’t and he hasn’t felt this helpless in years.

“And everyone who knows you sees it. Everything you have ever done, the good and the bad, you have done for love.”

Dean feels like his skin is crawling but he can barely focus on that when he can see how upset Cas is. He’s desperately trying to reach out but his hands won’t move no matter how hard his brain is yelling at them.

Castiel takes a breath, ignoring the background noises getting louder, “You raised your little brother for love, you fought for this whole world for love, that is who you are.”

That is not who Dean is, and he wants to scream it. He’s a coward. He’s a fucking coward who has been in love with this big dumb idiot across from him since that moment in the green room all those years ago, and he’s never fucking told him. 

He’s a selfish coward and he doesn’t deserve any of this.

“You’re the most caring man on Earth. You are the most selfless loving human being I will ever know.” Castiel looks at him like he can read Dean’s mind.

Briefly Dean wonders if he’s imagining things, or if he really can feel Cas’ grace right now.

“You know ever since we met, ever since I pulled you out of hell... knowing you has changed me.”

If he didn’t know what Cas was doing, Dean would laugh at that because God, Castiel has changed so much about Dean. He’s given him so much and he doesn’t even know if he ever told Cas that, if he ever said thanks for that, or if he even knows. 

“Because you cared, I cared.”

And oh, Dean’s chest hurts. Oh, fuck it really hurts.

“I cared about you,” Cas looks at him like he’s second guessing himself. “And I cared about Sam, I cared about Jack - I cared about the whole world because of you.“

Dean doesn’t know how to tell Cas that he’s the only reason Dean’s been able to fight for so long. 

“You changed me, Dean.”

He swallows a little bit, scared that the wrong thing is going to coming out of his mouth.

“Why does this sound like a goodbye?”

He knows what this is, knows what the dumb fuck has been doing this whole time. He was just kind of hoping that if he played dumb, he might be wrong. 

“Because it is.”

Dean shakes his head, swallowing back the tears he can already feel threatening to spill.

He wonders, briefly, if he yelled I love you loud enough, would it stave off Death herself?

Cas beats him to it.

“I love you.”

For a brief, spectacularly dumb moment, even for Dean, he hates Cas.

He hates that Cas is infinitely braver and better than Dean has ever been. He hates that Cas got the big dramatic confession scene. He hates himself for not saying it sooner, because Cas deserved more than this. Cas deserves the world, not Dean being terrified to open his mouth.

“Don’t do this, Cas.”

Don’t say it before me. Don’t leave me again, please, I’m no good without you. 

The Empty opens up behind him and Dean feels desperate with it, desperate to stop everything from happening.

“Cas -”

Billie kicks the door open and Dean can’t breathe.

Castiel’s smiling at him and the fucker looks content. 

He feels Castiel’s hand on his shoulder and for a brief moment, it burns like the handprint never left.

“Goodbye, Dean.”

Everything happens so quickly after that, as Dean watches the Empty take the love of his life and Death herself. 

He can’t help but stare at the wall, the last place he saw Cas.

His phone rings and Dean looks just long enough to ignore the call, but he can’t see straight, can’t think straight. He’s crying, apparently.

“I love you. Fuck.”

#deancas #deancas text #deancas for ts #destiel #mackenzie attempts fics #personal #otp: cursed or not #;n; idk it just came to me lol

[goldenraeofsun]

‘cause right now you're mine

set in this verse

THURSDAY, APRIL 2nd

Dean 12:01 You didn’t tell me you led Carver Prep’s quiz bowl team???

Castiel 12:15 It’s in the middle of the school day and you’re texting. What kind of example are you setting for your students?

Castiel 12:16 I didn’t tell you because it wasn’t relevant.

Dean 12:17 Haha smartass I’m having lunch in my office Youre texting me back so i see right through you And of course it’s freaking relevant

Castiel 12:20 How?

Dean 12:21 Because I got tapped to coach Edlund High's quiz bowl team this morning!

Castiel 12:21 Oh no.

Dean 12:30 Oh no is right buddy

Castiel 12:37 I thought you coached the softball team.

Dean 12:37 I can do both You’re dating a very talented man

Castiel 12:49 I know that. I just didn’t know it extended to quiz bowls and softball in addition to blow jobs and breaking and entering places to give blow jobs.

Dean 12:52 What the fuck is wrong with you I’m in school! My lunch hour is almost over I’ll have to get up from my desk very soon This is all your fault

Castiel 12:59 :)

Dean 1:00 Just for that No blow jobs for you tonight

Castiel 1:07 :(

 MONDAY, APRIL 6th

Dean 11:55 I bet I can grade more midterms than you today

Castiel 11:58 I know better than to make bets with you, Dean Winchester.

Dean 12:03 It was just a kiss I bet you’re just pissed you lost

Castiel 12:04 I can’t engage in PDA in front of my niece and one of my students at a school event!

Dean 12:04 Youre such a prude

Castiel 12:06 Unlike some teachers, I maintain boundaries between my personal and professional life.

Dean 12:07 Prude.

Castiel 12:09 Did you text me on a Monday afternoon just to harass me about my reluctance to kiss my boyfriend in front of minors?

Dean 12:11 Huh Boyfriend

Castiel 12:20 Dean?

Dean 12:21 What?

Castiel 12:22 Is everything okay?

Dean 12:23 Other than *my boyfriend* refusing to even entertain the idea of a friendly wager?

Castiel 12:23 Yes, other than that.

Dean 12:23 No

Castiel 12:25 That’s good. You scared me for a second.

Dean 12:26 I did?

Castiel 12:26 Are you okay with being my boyfriend? The long gap between our messages made me realize we haven’t talked about it before.

Dean 12:27 I mean it’s a little weird My 16 year old students have boyfriends “boyfriend” seems a little I don’t know Juvenile We’re not 16 anymore, Cas Thank god.

Castiel 12:30 Would you prefer “partner”?

Castiel 12:31 It’s just whenever I hear someone call their significant other “partner” I can never tell if they are talking about their life partner, same-sex partner, police partner, or if they are cowboys. That was a joke! Ignore this. I remember how much you like Westerns. “Partners” is off the table.

Dean 12:31 HOWDY YALL THIS IS MY PARTNER CAS

Castiel 12:31 Please never introduce me to someone like this.

Dean 12:32 Only if you watch Tombstone with me tonight

Castiel 12:33 Can I still grade my midterms?

Dean 12:35 You’re killing me here Cas Yes

Castiel 12:40 I’m your huckleberry

 SUNDAY, APRIL 12th

Castiel 2:19 Good luck with the softball game today!

Dean 2:21 You’d better make it up for me for missing this one Its the semifinals

Castiel 2:22 I will. Say “hi” to Claire for me.

Dean 2:27 What the hell? Why is she here? We’re not even playing Carver

Castiel 2:29 She has a crush on Kaia Nieves

Dean 2:30 Ohhhhh That explains a lot

Castiel 2:30 She thinks she’s being subtle.

Dean 2:37 I see that runs in the family Subtle as a brick wall. All of you.

Castiel 2:38 Excuse me, you had no idea about my feelings for you back in high school.

Dean 2:49 So? Charlie said you were obvious as fuck But it didn’t matter since I was a dumbass

Castiel 2:50 I prefer oblivious Less dumb Less ass

Dean 2:57 How dare you My ass is a goddamn gift. You take that back right now

Castiel 2:59 Of course. Don’t you have a game to coach?

Dean 3:01 Shit you’re right

 TUESDAY, APRIL 14th

Castiel 11:18 I know how I can make up for missing that last softball game last weekend

Dean 12:01 Sorry The kids called me out for texting you 5 mins before the bell last time How the hell did i get stuck with a class full of narcs

Castiel 12:03 It’s probably karma For all the rule breaking you did in school

Dean 12:05 Hey I wasn’t that bad

Castiel 12:05 You frequently defaced school desks and returned library books after their due date.

Dean 12:06 I’m dating a narc too???

Castiel 12:07 You didn’t ask what I have planned.

Dean 12:07 OK i’ll bite What do you have planned babe? Please tell me it’s not another documentary on bees That was depressing The grand canyon one was cool though

Castiel 12:10 Speaking of narcs

Dean 12:10 This doesn’t sound good

Castiel 12:11 When I had to get my extra copy of Camus from my car, I stumbled on Miriam at the edge of the parking lot with a few more students. They were skipping class and smoking marijuana. Naturally, I reported them to the administration.

Dean 12:13 Not helping your not-a-narc case

Castiel 12:13 They received detention for skipping class.

Dean 12:13 And the drugs?

Castiel 12:13 I may have neglected to report the drug use.

Dean 12:14 Seriously?

Castiel 12:14 I still confiscated it. Research evidence shows marijuana has negative effects on the developing brain.

Dean 12:14 I guess that’s fair

Dean 12:15 Hang on Do you still have it? OUR brains are old as balls Seriously, are you telling me you have weed now?

Castiel 12:15 Surprise?  I can throw it out if you’d prefer to do something else tonight.

Dean 12:15 Dont you dare!!! I’m going to get a six pack on the way home, download the last Star Wars, and we’re gonna do this right Your place or mine?

Castiel 12:16 I have been neglecting laundry lately. Yours?

Dean 12:16 You’re on This is going to be so awesome

 WEDNESDAY, APRIL 15th

Dean 12:06 Did you really mean to invite me to dinner with your brother?

Castiel 12:09 I didn’t mean to bring it up when we were high, but the invitation still stands. Claire told him we were together. He wants to meet you.

Dean 12:11 Oh

Castiel 12:11 You do not have to say yes.

Dean 12:13 I’ll go It just took me by surprise

Castiel 12:13 I don’t want to pressure you.

Dean 12:14 Youre not pressuring me

Castiel 12:14 Are you sure?

Dean 12:16 Look, I just know your relationship with your brother is complicated And I don’t want to stick my foot in it By accident or some other way

Castiel 12:20 We’re in a better place than I’d like to admit. I spent a long time resenting Jimmy for the time he had with Father. But it wasn’t his fault Father was a bastard who had a second family he preferred to be with. Jimmy was barely in middle school when Father started going on his “business trips”

Dean 12:21 Jesus christ You told me bit about it back in high school But I didn’t realize it was a second family situation

Castiel 12:21 Mother kept it from us for years. I still haven’t forgiven her for it.

Dean 12:21 Are you OK?

Castiel 12:22 I’m fine. It was a long time ago.

Dean 12:22 That stuff takes a long time to get over.

Castiel 12:22 I suppose.

Dean 12:23 Is it okay if you stay at mine tonight?

Castiel 12:24 Our next date isn’t until Friday

Dean 12:24 I don’t want to wait until Friday to see you

Castiel 12:27 Can you pick me up at Carver at 4pm?

Dean 12:27 You got it More time with you and my baby Win-win!

 FRIDAY, APRIL 24th

Dean 11:51 Are you sure what I usually wear to school is OK?

Castiel 11:53 You texted me nine minutes early?

Dean 11:53 Shut up I had to bribe my kids For NINE extra minutes Friggin tyrants

Castiel 11:54 What did they extort from you?

Dean 11:54 I promised to throw out their lowest pop quiz grade

Castiel 11:54 That isn’t too bad.

Dean 11:54 I was already planning on doing it

Castiel 11:55 Clever of you.

Dean 11:56 You’re not just dating a pretty face But getting back to dinner with your brother Is a regular button up OK? The tie hides most of the sloppy joe stain

Castiel 11:56 I’m sure you look very handsome

Dean 11:57 I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic or not

Castiel 11:57 I rarely manage sarcasm in-person. What makes you think I would attempt it over text?

Dean 11:58 Good point

Castiel 11:58 You’re a very good-looking man, Dean. I’ve known this since we were 15.

Dean 11:59 Stop it you’re making me blush

Castiel 12:01 It’s the truth.

Dean 12:04 Alright, alright I’m already sleeping with you No need to butter me up

Dean 12:05 It’s just I remember how you used to talk about him The perfect big brother

Castiel 12:07 More like the perfect student and perfect son. Jimmy was honestly too busy to be much of a brother. The 11 year age difference didn’t help. When I was in high school, he already had the perfect nuclear family on the way.

Dean 12:07 Exactly

Castiel 12:08 Exactly what?

Dean 12:08 You’re lucky I know you And I know you’re not drawing this out on purpose Look, i want to make a good impression, OK? he seems like a hard guy to please.

Castiel 12:09 I That’s very admirable of you, but it’s entirely unnecessary.

Dean 12:10 He’s your family

Castiel 12:11 And I understand family is very important to you, but it isn’t the same with me. It would be very nice if dinner goes well, but if it does not, I will not care in the slightest.

Dean 12:11 Really?

Castiel 12:11 Truly.

 SATURDAY, APRIL 25th

11:16 I’m sorry for my dad.

Dean 11:17 Who is this? 

11:20 Claire Novak

Dean 11:21 How did you get this number?

Claire 11:23 Alex Jones

Dean 11:24 How did Alex get my number???

Claire 11:24 It was on the softball permission forms How did you not know this Didn’t you draft them?

Dean 11:25 It’s been a while I’m a very busy man

Claire 11:25 Sure. Anyway, my dad was a dick.  Totally out of line last night

Dean 11:26 Shouldn’t you be texting Cas about this?

Claire 11:26 I don’t have his number

Dean 11:26 Cas wasn’t kidding when he said you guys weren’t close

Claire 11:27 Nope.

Dean 11:27 Well I am very close with my brother He’s a lawyer out in California

Claire 11:27 Good for you???

Dean 11:29 It doesn’t sit right with me that Cas doesn't have a real relationship with his family

Claire 11:31 That seems like Uncle Castiels business

Dean 11:33 But Jimmy isn’t Cas’s only family SO if you ever need a place to crash, i’m always available

Claire 11:35 Maybe my dad was right And you’re secretly a perv I’m not staying with you you freak

Dean 11:35 Jesus christ, I’m trying to say, if ALEX isn’t the only girl on Edlund's softball team you’re getting buddy-buddy with, it’s fine You should get a chance to explore that part of being a teenager While STAYING SAFE But don’t let your parents stand in the way of that side of your life

Claire 11:41 Dad wouldn’t kick me out

Dean 11:42 Maybe not. But if you are at all uncomfortable, just give cas a call I’ll forward you his contact info now

 “I might have told Claire she’s always welcome at my place if she comes out to her parents,” Dean says as he pockets his phone. He turns his back on the pile of sparkling clean dishes drying on the rack by Cas's sink. Dean adds, “Hopefully she’ll ask you before she goes to me.”

They hadn't really discussed the disaster of a dinner with Jimmy and Claire. A few tense words on the drive back to Cas's house, a tacit acknowledgement in the morning not to mention it until after coffee and breakfast. But then Cas brought out his homework for the weekend, even while last night's argument scratches at the back of his mind like a fly trapped in a windowless room. So Dean did the dishes and texted Claire.

Cas looks up from his juniors’ final exams. “You were talking to Claire?”

“She texted me first,” Dean says defensively.

Cas sighs and caps his pen. It’s blue, because red pen, according to Cas, is too traumatizing a grading implement. “I’m very sorry about last night.”

Dean waves his apology off. “You warned me it could go sideways.”

Cas’s brow furrows. “Still,” he says slowly, “I told my mother and Jimmy I was gay a few years ago. I think it was easy for them to ignore it as long as I didn’t have a boyfriend in the picture.”

Dean fiddles with a dishrag as he hovers by the sink. “Was Jimmy a jackass to your other boyfriends?”

“What others?” Cas asks wryly. “None of them were ever serious enough to pique Jimmy’s interest.”

“Really?”

Cas nods and gestures for Dean to take a seat at the kitchen table next to him. He holds out his hand, which Dean takes, bemused. “I don’t know why Jimmy thought religion was an appropriate introductory dinner topic. I could tell he was trying to genuinely understand our… lifestyle, to use his word, but-”

“I got angry,” Dean says looking down at their clasped hands.

“You didn’t say anything I wasn't thinking,” Cas says simply. “I’m glad you reached out to Claire.”

“It seems like she needed it.”

“She doesn’t have a lot of adults in her life she can rely on to be in her corner,” Cas says diplomatically. “I’ve tried, over the years, but I can’t relate to her at all.”

Dean laughs. “Of course not. Teenage rebellion wasn’t really your style.”

“Ah yes, of course,” Cas says, his voice dry as chalk, “you’d be the perfect person to talk to her. The cool kids speak their own language. How could I forget?”

Dean smirks. “It’s full of references you don’t get.”

“Don’t remind me,” Cas says darkly.

Dean leans in for a kiss. Eyes dancing, as he whispers, “Relax, babe. You were always the coolest kid in school to me."

#destiel #destiel fanfic #fanfic #teacher castiel #teacher dean #established relationship #fluff #text fic #the story of us verse #profoundnet #rae writes fic

[inkribbon796]

What a Beautiful Wedding Ch. 4: The Shake Up

Summary: The group continues to try and free their friends.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8

As the shock wave rippled out, all the bubbles felt it. But only a couple were jolted from their haze. Dark in his bubble was mentally ripped out of the sitcom haze he was trapped in. Dream in his bubble froze and was almost tagged in the back with an arrow  as he came to. Ranboo let out a warbled hiss. Thomas stopped mid-conversation with Logan and Nico. And both Karl and Nate collapsed and held their heads right before the group showed up in their bubble.

//////~~~~//////~~~~//////~~~~//////

CHANNEL 12

//////~~~~//////~~~~//////~~~~//////

Ranboo hissed and made little vwoop sounds as he felt like someone was trying to drive a spike through his head.

“Bossman?” Tubbo looked over from where he and Tommy were trying to build “the worst scarecrow ever” and Michael looked at him in concerned confusion. Ghost looked over from where he was with Tommy and Tubbo.

“I . . . we need . . . where’s Techno?” Ranboo looked around in distress. He’d been at a wedding and Techno had come to his rescue.

“Who’s Techno?” Tubbo asked in confusion before he blinked and looked around in disorientation. “Techno? Why . . .”

Tommy blinked, the haze lifting as he looked around. “The [BLEEP][1] are we?”

“Did somethin’ just [BLEEP] censor you?”[2] Tubbo gasped. “No! [BLEEP]! [BLEEP]! Bloody [BLEEP] [BLEEP]!”[3]

“Hah!” Tubbo looked around, trying to find a camera. “Got that one out, you American [BLEEP]![4]”

Shroud and Michael started giggling and Tommy looked down at Shroud in confusion.

“Umm, is that thing mine?” Tommy said as he walked over and Shroud held up his hands. He suddenly started looking more spider-like. He had two extra sets of arms and then he blinked and had eight eyes.

“Awww,” Tommy smiled fondly. “Imma[5] call you: Shroud. Shroud Innit.”

Shroud hung onto Tommy with inhuman strength as Tommy looked around, trying to find an exit but none of the doors actually worked and any “people” besides their little family had mysteriously disappeared. “We need ta[6] get outta[7] here.”

“Now, hold up,” Tubbo’s brain began turning. “Let’s think about this.”

“Think about what?” Tommy scoffed. “This is obviously Dream trying to control us again. You green teletubby [BLEEP][1]!”

“Yeah, but if it’s him, he’s done nothin’[8] ta[6] us,” Tubbo said and pulled a soda out of the mini fridge under the counter. He tapped the can a couple times before opening it. The can sounded like a soda can, the contents even tasted like the real thing. “We have free food, a roof o’er[9] our heads. How’s this any worse than what we had before?”

“Because it’s Dream,” Tommy spat. “Have you forgotten what he did ta[6] us? We need ta[6] escape while we have the chance.”

“We don’t need ta[6] do anything,” Tubbo told him firmly and picked Nichael up.

“It’s Dream!” Tommy yelled.

“Who cares?!” Tubbo shouted at them. “I don’t care if it’s Dream or the [BLEEP][10] space wizards who put us here. We’re safe.”

“Umm, maybe,” Ghostbur started, starting to float a bit and regain his ghostly pallor.

Ranboo was letting out nervous hisses as he approached cautiously. “Hey guys, maybe—”

“Ranboo, let’s go!” Tommy grabbed one of the slender teen’s arms and yanked him over.

“No!” Tubbo grabbed Ranboo’s other arm, yanking him back the other way.

“Guys, stop!” Ranboo yelled out and both the teens dropped his arms. “My head hurts.”

Tubbo inched closer and when Ranboo crouched down the shorter man lightly rested his forehead against Ranboo, their adopted son between them. Ranboo let out a sigh as his headache began to clear.

“Boo?” Tubbo urged gently, almost as quiet as a whisper, waiting until Ranboo opened his eyes to speak again. “Boo, we’re safe here.”

“Come on, Ranboo, we gotta[11] get out ‘a[12] here,” Tommy urged but when he went to grab him again the lanky teen uncoiled himself and stood up.

“I can’t leave Tubbo,” Ranboo decided.

Tubbo let out a hitched sigh of relief and Tommy had a look of betrayal on his face.

A look that quickly turned into anger.

“Fine! I’ll figure out what’s goin’[13] on here without yeh[14]!” Tommy spat and pulled away with Shroud.

“Tommy, wait,” Ghostbur called out as he followed them.

Tommy reared back to slam his body weight against the front door of the Bee ‘n Boo, prepared to destroy it, but right as his shoulder came into contact he felt something open and he and Shroud and Ghostbur were pulled somewhere else.

The door, closing behind them.

//////~~~~//////~~~~//////~~~~//////

CHANNEL 6

//////~~~~//////~~~~//////~~~~//////

Tommy fell sideways into a bank of son, his and Shroud’s clothing turning from casual late summer wear into heavy fur-lined jackets and overcoats. The clothing was reminiscent of something from the early 1700’s.

Tommy quickly realized it was freezing cold.

Shroud began crying in fear and shock.

“Hey, buddy,” Tommy brought Shroud to his chest, wrapping his coat around him. So that Shroud was double layered.

“He okay?” Ghostbur asked in concern as he floated over.

“Yeah,” Tommy glared around, finding that Tubbo and Ranboo were nowhere to be seen. “He’s fine.”

The two looked over to see a well-worn trail cutting towards a town. They followed it to find a city that was nearly completely empty and as they walked in further they could hear a commotion in the distance.

The noise led them to a massive throng of people around an altar of black stone, raised high above the throng. Tommy shoved his way closer, which got him a fair bit of dirty looks as he got as close to the front as the crowd let him. When he couldn’t get any closer but was close enough to see figures behind a dark, almost sheer curtain he turned to look at the people next to him.

“What’s goin’[13] on?” Tommy demanded.

“The Emperor’s prince is about to be born,” one woman said in excitement. “Her lady will grace us with her presence.”

“Sara Jane’s baby, given to the Goddess for this most joyous occasion,” another woman looked like she was about to start chanting and singing and Tommy did not want to be here for it.

But then one of the figures behind the curtain got closer and the crowd began to get excited.

Tommy began to recognize the silhouette, or more importantly the dark wings behind the figure right before Philza emerged from the curtain.

“Hello everybody!” Phil called out as he parted the curtains. Instead of his green ensemble he was in frosty blues and perfectly whole and healthy wings fluttered out behind him. They twitched and gestured as Phil moved.

Techno was right behind him, but he looked more human and his mask was a large bone white boar skull. He was in a matching blue uniform and his red cape was much shorter.

The crowd went insane, cheering and calling out for Phil.

Philza motioned for the crowd to calm down and once it was quiet enough he used a horn to amplify his voice. “I would like ta thank everyone fer comin’ ta this most joyous occasion and fer the Borris family fer their most gracious gift. But my Lady an’ I would like yeh all to meet the newest member ‘a the royal family.”[16]

The talking began to surge back up before Phil took a knee, as a dark shadow of a woman expanded behind the curtains. She was huge and her face was further veiled by darkness.

“Mum?” Tommy froze in recognition. Ghostbur’s eyes wide and sad beside him.

The crowd rushed to kneel, even Ghostbur who seemed to be trying to follow the social cues around him.

But Tommy didn’t, he and Techno were the only people in attendance that didn’t take a knee. Tommy could feel Techno staring at him.

The silhouette erupted into smoke and Phil searched up to reach up to the altar where something had been set down on top of it. It was a squirming baby wrapped up in a yellow blanket.

“I am proud to announce the birth ‘a[12] my son: Imperial Prince Wilbur!” Phil held the bundled up baby boy up where the crowd could see him.

//////~~~~//////~~~~//////~~~~//////

Channel 2

//////~~~~//////~~~~//////~~~~//////

“Quiet on set!” Marc called out before a ripple washed over him and he froze looking around.

“Marc?” Ethan looked at him in confusion. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just we’ll run the scene from top,” Marc ordered through gritted teeth, his eyes looking around as he realized that the world around him was not as big as it should be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Accessibility Translations:

1. fuck

2. Did something just fucking censor you?

3. No! Shit! Fuck! Bloody fucking bastards!

4. fucks!

5. I’m going to

6. to

7. out of

8. nothing

9. over

10. fucking

11. have to

12. of

13. going

14. you

15. I would like to thank everyone for coming to this most joyous occasion and for the Borris family for their most gracious gift. But my Lady and I would like you all to meet the newest member of the royal family.

#Superhero AU #Masks and Maladies #footnotes #Ranboo #tubbo underscore #tommyinnit #Ghostbur #michael the piglin #shroud innit #Philza #Technoblade #platonically married Tubbo and Ranboo #Magic #reality manipulation #Actor's awake #Tommy approves of his spider son #it's all fun and games until you get magically censored #references to SMP earth

[dawniebb]

Collateral Damage Pt.1

So, continuing with the journey @healing-winston-pratt and I have decided to take to rise Winston and Callum from the death, here’s another fic, and this time is about Winston :) This one is a full collaboration, meaning we both wrote this, so we hope you enjoy it XD

Part 2 will be uploaded by her soon.

You can fin the canon divergence explanation here.

And Callum’s fic is here

THERE’S MILD SELF HARM MENTIONS IN HERE

When Winston woke up, all he could see were the lights. Blindingly bright lights. And he stared at the ceiling for a while, because he didn’t know what else to do besides waiting until the rest of his senses responded to him.

His gaze remained fixated on those lights; later, he began to smell; and his surroundings were penetrated with a latex odor, combined with chlorine and something putrid… in the sense that everything smelled like blood and wounds. That is, in case wounds had a characteristic smell to them. To Winston’s view, they did. Everything had a smell, just like everything could be related with a specific color. 

But that was just him, maybe. 

Then he started to hear. And he heard the worried, hesitant chattering all around him. People screaming orders, people screaming as they followed those orders; people bawling; people in a deep state of distress calling some person’s name; he heard questions, some of them empty, routinary ones and others filled with much more substance, meant to subtract more specific details about something. 

Then he started touching, although he didn’t touch anything; he just felt the sheets beneath him, and the uncomfortable mattress and the cold structure of the hospital bed. 

A hospital bed. 

A hospital.

And a very...broken hospital. 

The building seemed fine, of course. But the place...not so much.

From what Winston could tell, he was in the ICU, but he wasn’t the only one in his room. Not even two or three. He could hear more voices; he could see the doctors and nurses’ shoes through the small pace at the bottom of the blue curtain. 

A very blue and stained curtain (Stained of what? Winston didn’t want to know). 

What the heck had happened?

How come a hospital was this...neglected, with such questionable sanitary conditions? 

And it’s not that he’d been in a hospital many times, but he knew they were supposed to be a clean and safe place. 

And why the hell was he in a hospital bed? 

Who had put him here? 

Winston groaned, his eyes moving around the reduced space he was in. 

Slowly, he tried to get into a sitting position, but a sharp pain ambushed him at his side; he then felt and saw the  IV cannula in his hand, and Winston knew he should’ve expected it to be there, as distracted as he was.

This really was happening. Right here and right now. And yet, when a nurse came to monitor his vital signs, Winston felt as lost as ever, as if he were still asleep or trapped inside a void. 

The woman didn’t say anything to him, besides asking how was he doing, of course. And from what Winston could see, she must’ve been a voluntary nurse. Probably a nurse-in-training, as she wasn’t wearing a uniform, just a plain white shirt and jeans. Still, she appeared to know what she was doing, so he didn’t feel too worried about her. 

After taking some notes, the nurse left, and that’s when Winston faced his therapist, doctor Blake. 

And he had never been so relieved to see her face. 

Not even when he was having a bad day and really needed to talk to her.

Because right now she was basically the only person he could recognize among the crowd. 

“Hi.” He greeted her in a hoarse voice, as the woman sat by the chair next to him, calm. 

“Hello, sir.” She greeted back. Her face looked tired, but she still managed to direct a half-smile at him. “I’m going to make you some questions now, okay?” 

Weird.

Very weird, but okay. 

Winston nodded in response. 

“Do you know what’s your name? Can you remember that?” 

Winston frowned. 

“Pratt. Winston Pratt.”

“Good. How old are you?” 

“28…” Then he closed his eyes and shook his head. 

“I’m sorry. 29”

“When did you turn 29?” 

“I...I know all of that. I do remember.”

“But can you tell me?” 

Winston clicked his tongue. 

“April 1st. Can you tell me what happened, please?” 

 “Can you?” The doctor narrowed her eyes, although her voice was still soothing and comforting. “Do you remember what happened, Mr. Pratt? Anything?”

Was he supposed to remember something?

Winston’s frown deepened at the same time he squeezed his brain in order to reach for whatever memory he was supposed to be looking for.

But he still felt kind of heavy and dizzy, and a sudden pulse appeared on his temples, so Winston had to shut his eyes and take a deep breath to make it disappear.

“It’s ok.” He heard Dr. Blake. “You can take all the time you need.”

“I know.”

He gulped, trying harder to concentrate.

Then he remembered nervousness and anxiety. Sweaty palms and cheeks tired of being constantly smiling. Clearing his throat more than once to avoid speaking in his usual high pitched voice.

“My speech.” He opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling one more time. “I was about to give… No. I’m pretty sure I gave a speech at… The Arena?

“You’re right.” Dr. Blake slowly nodded. “What else can you tell me?”

“I gave my speech and then… Then…”

His head was filled with static, like a TV screen with dancing black and white dots, mimicking the sound and feeling of a blizzard. 

He could touch and even smell the fabric of his suit. New. And there was the loud static again. Inside of his head and out of it. 

Then he saw the little paper thingies flying right by people’s faces, dancing to the sound of the static.

Paper thingies. 

Figures. 

And that frustrating, obnoxious sound that refused to go away. 

Wait a minute.

It was only then that Winston realized he wasn’t hearing static. He was hearing…

“Bees?”

He was so used to bees. They buzzed in sync with Honey’s emotions and flew around his precious sweets like greedy flies. Sometimes they were so annoying that he wanted to use some of Leroy’s plaguicides to get rid of them. Other times, he couldn’t care less about their presence.

“Did they…” he turned to face Dr. Blake again.  “...attack us?”

“That’s correct. The Anarchists were spotted alongside a group of prodigies who called themselves The Rejects. Have you ever worked with them?”

“I have not even heard of them.”

“You and the rest of the city”. She smiled briefly before it faded again. “The bees contained Agent N, resulting in a lot of neutralized Renegades and so many deaths.”

“What?”

Then the flashbacks hit him.

There were tons and tons of bees buzzing and flying and stinging everything that moved. 

There were people screaming and powers being shouted. He heard whistles and explosions and a bull’s cry. He smelled soaked dirt and melted candy and smoke.

He saw lots of colors at the same time, because the world started to spin and didn’t stop until he was able to stand from the ground, only to do a double take at a girl that seemed to be holding a weapon.

“Do you remember anything else, Mr. Pratt?”

It was a crossbow.

With a frozen dagger.

And goddamnit. 

That girl’s eyes were so full of rage. 

So much rage. So much… 

Winston wasn’t one to talk about this… But he could tell she was also so, so full of pain. 

“The bees…” Winston scoffed, covering his eyes as he laughed. “T-the...Queen Bee. She…she hated anything that wasn’t yellow, black or golden.” 

BANG. BANG. 

And it was like...an epiphany. Those hateful eyes full of pain, fusing with that other pair of blue eyes, also full of hate; full of grief; full of pain; full of…

Of lies. 

“....but she wore so much red. Because she looked good in red.” 

The white strips of hair trapped between her fingers. 

Bang.

Over and over again, against the floor. 

Jesus. 

The smell of iron in the air. 

Iron and...honey. 

Blood and bees. 

Winston shook his head, trying to breathe normally. He could feel his eyes more open than they should’ve been, as he stared at the ceiling. At the lights. 

As he saw those blue eyes, while a sharp pain took over his whole body. 

She was shaking with so much violence Winston thought she was about to explode, her tiny hand in the open, bleeding wound. Just like that time he had put a band-aid on her knee. 

He thought that would be the last time he saw those blue eyes, because nobody died because of a bleeding knee.

However, many people died because of a wound like this. 

That girl. White as snow. And her icicle. 

An icicle so pointy she stabbed him with it.

But it was originally being aimed at…

“Nova” He screeched, looking desperately into Dr. Blake’s eyes. “Where’s Nova?”

-.-

The next time he woke up, Winston was sure he was not supposed to forget what he was dreaming; however, it was already fading into the void.

He knew he had to remember something, but he didn’t knew what exactly.

His stomach growled, and though he couldn’t recall the last time (or heck, even the last thing) he ate, Winston didn’t feel like asking for food.

Not that he could see if someone was available anyway.

He tried to go back to sleep, but he couldn’t, and he hated when that happened so he just remained lying, suddenly remembering that his ‘dream’ was not a dream, but a conversation.

Fuck.

He really had messed it up, hadn’t he?

First shouting Nova’s identity at the Arena, and now again but in a hospital, right in his therapist’s face.

More than once.

Winston banged his head against the pillow, thinking about how Nova was probably under arrest at this moment, and all because of him.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stu--

The curtain moved and the same nurse appeared, this time wearing a proper uniform, though she looked more tired than the last time he saw her.

“Sir, you need to stop or you’re going to hurt yourself.”

In that very moment, Winston took a closer look on her. Now that he was more awake, he realized she actually was younger than he had initially thought, despite looking exhausted right now. 

Once again, she took his vital signs, without small talk. And then, after asking if he needed something (to which Winston answered he didn’t) she left. 

Then doctor Blake came into the room, and Winston felt as if this were the post-neutralization period all over again, which was...a pretty awful thing if you thought about it. Of course, therapy had been very useful, but that didn’t change the fact the post-neutralization period remained as one of his most unpleasant memories ever, and said memory was characterized by Doctor Blake coming into his cell over and over. 

Just like she was doing now. 

However, she must have noticed Winston was more focused now, because she just sat with her notebook on her lap and took a deep breath before speaking. 

“How are you feeling, Winston?” 

Those words were enough to make his upper lip quiver. He blinked with pain. However, his first impulse was still to ask the Doctor for help, because he had been in a lying position for so long his back was starting to hurt; careful, she grabbed him by the arm and helped him up: then, she placed some pillows behind his back so the effort to hold his body that way would be less. 

“Is that better?” 

Winston nodded, trying to breathe normally. The bandages were wrapped around the wound were tight and sort of painful, even. 

But he was alive.

That...was supposed to be a good thing, wasn’t it?

“Mr. Pratt?” 

“...Yes?” 

“A tragedy happened last night.” Doctor Blake spoke slowly. “Like I already mentioned, we were attacked by a group of prodigies that called themselves The Rejects, short after your speech at the arena.”

He could recall that. His speech. The bees. The panic. 

“Many lives were lost, and due to the Agent N that the bees carried, many Renegades and civilian prodigies lost their special abilities. However, there was another incident reported in the first hours of the morning.” 

“Fuck, no. Please.”

“The Rejects moved towards the Cathedral, taking Ace Anarchy with them, and after a couple of hours, there was a phenomenon that has been denominated the Supernova.” 

Nova. 

“The cause for this strange event is still unknown, as we are yet to obtain a confession of the parties involved. Nevertheless...there were some...repercussions.” 

And he didn’t want to know what those were, but he knew she was going to tell him anyway. 

So fuck it. 

The doctor sighed.

“After said Supernova, all non-prodigy individuals acquired….prodigy features.” 

He heard her words, although he didn’t comprehend them.

Not until a minute had passed, at least.

And Winston scoffed.

“Wow, that’s so shitty.” He said, almost amused.

Almost.

“Good thing they had already taken mine.” 

Dr. Blake remained straight-faced, and Winston’s half smile quickly faded.

Then he felt it.

No.

It couldn’t be.

It was all on his mind.

Winston looked at his palms, wondering when they had started trembling.

He tried to gulp but it seemed that he had forgotten how to do it.

His heart raced.

His breath quickened.

And when he saw his fingertips as they started to ghostly glow with yellow, his hands clenched into fists to turn it off.

His vision became a blur. 

His palms ached due to his nails digging in the soft flesh.

He could no longer hear Dr. Blake, for an endless “beep” resonated inside his ears and filled his head.

His hands went right to his face with the only purpose to scratch the hell out of the makeup that Winston was so fucking sure was there again.

He wanted to whip it out.

Make it disappear.

He didn’t want it.

He didn’t…

He didn’t feel it fading, no matter how many hot tears rolled down his face in an attempt to wash it out.

Just like he didn’t feel the spark dissipate.

The prodigy spark that burned in his insides like a torch. Bright and scorching and suffocating.

A spark that consumed him like that the oxygen the fire needed to keep burning. A spark that didn’t let him breathe until it was gone.

But it had lightened up again.

So all that he could do, was scream.

#renegades trilogy #marissa meyer #TW: SELF HARM MENTIONS #Winston Pratt #I REFUSE TO TAG HIS ALIAS #BC BABY DOESN'T LIKE IT ANYMORE OKAY #Nova Artino #Nightmare #Insomnia #Genissa Clark #fucking frostbitch #this was fun just because we wrote it together not because we had fun coming up with the idea #but everyone recovered their powers remember? #renegades #archenemie #supernova #SELF HARM I REPEAT #trigger warning self harm

[justateenfangirl0616]

I Will Always Come Home - Bucky Barnes

Word Count: Approx. 3800 

Requested by: nobody, just my dumb brain while watching TFA awhile ago

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Female reader

Summary: 1940s!Buck but not, Nurse!Reader, angst and fluff

He had wrapped his arms around your waist never wanting to let go. The war had to be fought and you both knew that, but it didn’t mean you had to be overjoyed about being apart for years. He had been drafted, leaving at dawn, you had been studying to be a nurse but didn’t finish your training for another month, long after he would be gone. 

“Doll, I will come back for you, no matter how long it takes.” He whispers into your ear as he sniffs quietly, trying to save face.

“I know James, and I will wait for you always” you pull away, flashing him the biggest smile you could muster, which wasn’t much.

He places his forehead against yours and closes his eyes, holding your cheeks as tears grace his. Your own tears slid over his thumbs, he reaches to brush them away before placing one last firm kiss to your lips. He doesn’t allow himself to submit to the kiss as he usually would, he wouldn’t be able to leave if he did that. His lips are gone as quickly as they were there, with one final kiss he moves out the door, covering his mouth with his hand as you watch him go.

You expect him to turn back for one last look but he just continues into the street, shoulders shaking in one last sob before he runs his hands through his hair and placing his hat back on top of the unruly locks. You see him furiously wipe his face from behind before he disappears into the bustle of the street. Closing the door, you fall to your knees, feeling all of your emotions catch up with you as a burning pain spreads through your chest and you cannot bring in enough air to soothe the burn. He was gone, he was really gone.

A year had passed since then, you had made it a small ally camp in the middle of Italy. After that day, you had thrown yourself into your training, finishing faster than originally expected and being sent out of the country only a few weeks after Bucky. You had begged to go join the 107th, but they already had too many nurses for the men that were returning from the front lines, so your request was denied. So you threw yourself into your work in order to take your mind away from where he might be or who he might be with or how he was doing. The last one always took the darkest turns so you tried to avoid it completely. 

Currently stationed in an old barn outside of a little Italian city, you were tending to men from the 99th as they had just returned from a run-in with some Hydra soldiers. The man currently on the bed in front of you had lost a leg in an explosion and had been asleep since the battle three days ago. You pulled the gauze on his leg as it slowly peeled off, unwrapping it you move it onto the tray beside the bed. The wound was red and angry but free of infection, that was a good sign. Three days in and no infection was a sight for sore eyes. Most injuries recently hadn’t ended well due to the constant rain, mud and illnesses being tracked into the little barn hospital. Grabbing a cloth soaked in warm water from the tray, you wiped down the place where his stitches sat as gently as you could before placing the cloth back on the metal. Grabbing fresh bandage you began wrapping the stump once again as you hummed lowly to yourself. After it was all done, you picked up the metal tray and moved back to the desk at the end of the hospital that served as a makeshift nurses station. Placing the dirty gauze in the garbage and the cloth in a wash bin, you put the tray back into the shelf that it came off of. 

Brushing your skirt back into place, you move to the handwashing station, sudsing up your hands only to hear someone rushing in the door of the barn. Rinsing them quickly, you move towards the older man as everyone else rushes over too. He stands in front of the group of nurses and other medics that have gathered and pauses to take a breath before beginning to speak.

“Over 400 hundred men from the 107th have returned to their base camp, injured, ill or getting there. They sent a letter asking for more medics. I know that it is even closer to enemy territory than you already are but we need some volunteers to head that way to help out” he pleaded.

If hearing crickets in silence was really a thing, you would hear them now. Not a single soul made a move, but your heart began to race. Everyone stood looking around at each other to see who was crazy enough to follow this man into the fire. Pulling the scarf tying your hair back a little tighter, you pushed through the taller men and women in front of you in order to reach the front.

“I’ll go,” You say sternly to the man in front of you.

A few people gave you looks as if you were crazy before one of your fellow nurses, Elizabeth stepped forward and grabbed your hand, “If you’re going, then so am I,” She smiles.

You guys had become close in your time here, close enough for her to be the only one who knew about Bucky, where he was and what you would do in order to get back to him. Gripping her hand tightly, you waited as only a few more people stepped forward. When everyone willing to go stepped forward, the man dismissed the nine of you that volunteered to collect your things as you were boarding a truck in less than an hour to head out. You and Elizabeth packed your few things quickly and readied to travel. Retying your hair and grabbing the small bag you had over your shoulder, you moved out the barn doors together as they opened, revealing your ride to your Bucky, to your home. 

Pulling yourself up into the truck, you took a seat close to the back, not moving your bag from your shoulder in case you had to run. War had changed so many things about you, and you expect Bucky to have changed too, hopefully not enough to be unrecognizable to each other.

~~~

You had driven for well over a day, stopping only to eat and allow the soldiers with you to scout ahead before moving the truck through risky landscape. The dirt kicked up by the wheels had coated your skin long ago and the heat slowly began to turn colder as you were on the road with significantly fewer blankets than at the barn. It had all led up to this, you guys pulled up to the bustling camp.

The back hatch of the truck was pulled down and one of the patrolmen with you helped you down from the back, feet landing on the slightly frozen and dewy ground beneath your thin boots. Moving to who you recognized as the colonel, the other medics followed and lined themselves up in front of the man, waiting for him to address you.

“Thank you all for coming, I know it isn’t the most ideal place to be but where is? We’re in the middle of a war. I wish I could get you guys set up in tents before you start but we’ve got over 150 injured men who have returned from the Hydra base and our 35 medical personnel have worked through the night, so I’m bringing you straight to the medical tent.” He speaks before gesturing you guys to follow him and begins walking through the tents. 

You guys approach the biggest tent at the center of the ring and the door is already pulled open and tied back for you guys. He brings you to a place where you all set your stuff down before you are assigned a triaged list of patients and you tun to begin your work. 

Hour after hour you move through the injured, wrapping wounds, bringing food, forcing medication into people, retreating into your own mind as you block the loud noises around you. You had learned to compartmentalize pretty quickly when you began, you see and hear terrible things every minute of the day so it’s necessary.

After what feels like three days, but really was only about nine hours you are finally able to retreat to your bag and are escorted to a tent. The soldier assigned to escort you was a stout man with a gruff beard and a bowler hat, he seemed nice enough, his eyes were kind and he had explained where most of the amenities were on your way. You had attempted to chat at first but he began to understand that you were exhausted and just let you walk beside him as he continued to chat. He walked you to a tent that looked just like all the rest but on the front of it was a little red cross that matched all the ones in this area, each of these tents was only big enough for one cot and a little room underneath for clothes. You didn’t mind much, it had been more crowded at the barn than you had liked so it was a nice change.

You smiled at Dum Dum -- that’s what he had said his name was as you pushed your bag under the cot and unwrapped your hair scarf allowing your hair to settle on your shoulders. 

“Okay well, I’ll just let you settle in and get some rest before your next shift” He smiled kindly. 

You couldn’t let him leave without asking, even if it meant getting an answer that you didn’t want, “Hey Dum Dum, is there any chance that you know someone that I’m looking for”

“I might, I tend to talk to a lot of people so you came to the right guy,” he jokes with a kind smile.

“I’m looking for James Buchanan Barnes, he may go by Bucky here” You respond.

“I know just the guy you’re looking for,” he winked at you.

You couldn’t help the squeal that escaped you at the guarantee that he was alive, the only certainty you have had in months, “can you please take me to him?”

~~~

Cigarette smoke billowed throughout the bar as you and Dum Dum entered. He immediately bee-lined for a table near the middle of the room, it was surrounded by an interesting array of men. He stood leaning over the table while yelling over the noise to speak with the men in front of the two of you. You couldn’t hear the conversation anyway so you glanced around the room to see a mixture of men and women mingling and laughing. The atmosphere was a shocking difference to the one that you had been in all day and it was a welcome change in mood. 

Before you knew it Dum Dum was grabbing onto your forearm and leading you to the doorway of the next room. Nerves rose in your stomach as the anticipation grew. What if he didn’t recognize you right away, you had cut your hair significantly when you flew out. If he doesn’t recognize you, it might break you, you think. Before you had any more time to panic, you’re pulled into the next room where there’s a long bar and a few stools. Very few people are in here, but two of the men stand out to you. 

Steve looks a lot different than the last time you saw him, but his face was still the same one of that green boy who had left Brooklyn a year ago. He caught your eye but not your attention, that resting on the brunette standing in front of Steve with his back to you. He was deep in conversation with Steve as Steve began to stare at you before slowly turning Bucky’s shoulder toward you and pointing directly at you.

You froze as he turned, a grin finding its way to your face, so wide you felt it might split. He finally made eye contact with you and the shocked look only lasted a moment before his grin matched yours. He immediately ran in your direction and before you knew it you were being lifted into his arms as your face drops to his neck. You cry with uncontrollable joy into his shoulder as he spins you around in his arms before letting you to the floor and gripping your face with his hands and staring into your eyes.

His baby-blues are filled with unshed tears as he stares at you, both of you let out a laugh of relief while looking at each other. He pulls your face closer as he presses a kiss to your forehead and then your cheek before beginning to place several kisses to whatever part of your face he can reach. You begin to giggle with joy as he continues, before long he places one final kiss to your lips.

“No hug for me doll?” Steve interrupts your love fest.

You pull away from Buck a little so that you can speak, “I’m sorry Steven, you had to know Buck had first dibs,” you laugh before pulling out of James’ grip and quickly made your way to Steve for a hug. He pulled you into his chest, your chin unable to reach his shoulder as it once had so you lean your head against his chest.

“You’ve gotten taller, I don’t like it” you smile up at him as you pull away from the hug.

“That makes one of us,” he smiles down at you, “It’s great to see you doll.”

“It’s good to see you too,” as you return to Bucky’s arms, he wraps them around your waist from behind as he rests his chin on your shoulder before whispering a quick “I love you” into your ear, causing you to grin once again, happiness brimming at being back with your boys. All former tiredness was gone as you spend time with the two.

“I never thought I’d see the day that Bucky Barnes became a lovesick puppy,” Dum Dum laughed in your direction.

“Oh trust me, this happened a long time ago,” You laughed.

Bucky spoke up with a smirk, “from the moment I laid eyes on you sweetheart, and I am not ashamed.”

Your cheeks actually started to hurt with how much you were smiling.

~~~

Not long after meeting up with the boys, you were solidified as the travel nurse for the Howling Commando’s missions, no doubt Bucky and Steve’s doing. It had been months and months of ongoing missions to shut down as many Hydra bases as possible, each one raising everyone’s spirits more and more. At the rate it was going, the war might be done before the years out. 

“So we’re ziplining onto a moving train?” Buck questioned Agent Carter.

“Unfortunately yes, its the best option we’ve got. You guys will be on your own though, no backup and no medic. It has to be the smallest group possible not to be seen.” She responds.

You weren’t going. Not the first time since you got back to them but that didn’t stop the fear from settling in your stomach like a boulder. You just chewed your nails as you listened intently to the rest of the conversation. As they finished the debriefing, they were sent away to get some sleep for the next day's events. Bucky slid his hand into yours and the two of you began walking through the rows of tents. 

“I’d tell you not to worry about me tomorrow but I know you’re going to anyway,” he attempted a lighthearted smile but deep down he feels the fear building in him. 

“Then I’m glad you’re not going to tell me that,” You spoke pulling him to a stop in front of you, “I’m really worried about this one Buck, my gut is telling me that something is going to happen tomorrow.”

His face turned serious at that, fear flashing in his eyes before he hides it with a smile, “the only thing that's going to happen tomorrow is that we’re going to kick some Hydra ass before I get to return to your wonderful self for dinner and some stargazing.”

A small smile appears on your face, “Oh, so tomorrow’s a special night then? Treating a girl to some nighttime stargazing?”

“Not just any girl, my best girl.”

The two of you continued walking after that, worry not forgotten but pushed aside for now in order to enjoy every second together. Little did you know that they’d be your last for quite a while. He took you back to the bar that you’d met him at on the night you got there for some drinks and some dancing. The morning came all too soon and you got the standard goodbye forehead kiss as usual.

“Don’t you go and die on me, or I’ll have to kill you myself,” you placed a kiss on his lips.

~~~

It had been hours since you had heard anything, Agent Carter was in contact with Steve the whole time but everyone thought it better that you weren’t involved. You had pushed yourself into your work in order to keep your mind off of it but the worries still swirled in the back of your head as you bandaged, fed and medicated. That's where Steve found you when he returned. You wondered why Bucky wasn’t with him when he walked in but the look on his face told you. 

He grabbed your forearm and guided you outside before saying anything, and even then he could barely get anything out without choking on a sob of his own.

“He fell,” the two words that cracked your soul in half, one half leaving with him. You fell into Steve’s embrace as he held you to his chest, your hands being crushed between you as he held you. You both cried so much that day. It threw you into a whirlwind of memories.

“Don’t you go and die on me, or I’ll have to kill you myself” 

“I didn’t mean it,” a pained sob escaped you as the memories kept coming. You had been with this boy since the age of fifteen, known him your whole life and now he was gone.

The light from the open fridge cascaded across the linoleum tile as your legs created long shadows across the kitchen. You were wrapped in Bucky’s arms as you both swayed to the soft hum of music from the radio. It was late but neither of you cared. The only thing that mattered was each other.

He pulled away from the hold gently before tilting your chin up before placing a chaste kiss to your nose and then to your lips while a goofy grin spread on his face. 

“Whatchu smiling about mister?” you’re grin matching his own as you placed a kiss to his covered shoulder, the only place that you could reach.

“Nothing, I just love you, like a lot,” He responded, “I don’t think I ever want to be anywhere but right here, right now.”

Your heart might have melted just then, “you make me the happiest girl in the world James Barnes”

~~~

The funny thing about losing someone is that time doesn’t stop, even when you feel like it should because that person is gone. Even when you feel like your heart stops, the seasons just continue to fade into each other. When Bucky died it happened, spring, summer, autumn, then winter and it had been an entire year since you had last seen the love of your life. The years continued by and you never were able to overcome the slight ache in your chest, so you just carried that baggage. The war had ended and the soldiers had come home. 

The two soldiers that you were hoping would make it not stepping foot back on American soil, both caskets at the funeral were empty. The empty caskets haunted you, they hadn’t been able to find either of them and bring them home where they belonged. The event that was Steve’s funeral was crazy, the entire city had to be shut down. You had lost a friend but the country had lost their symbol of hope, Captain America.

Years had passed since the war but you could never forget, even just a little bit. You had moved to the suburbs and grown a little herb garden outside of your little two bedroom house, having inherited a little bit of money that Buck had put away for you two. Unbeknownst to you, he had written up a will before going off to fight, essentially leaving everything to you and his siblings. Even in death he took care of you.

You had decided to give up nursing after coming home because it just brought back too many painful memories, but the local library down the road had taken you on as a librarian and you’d ride your bike to work four days a week. The world had settled and you had become content with your routine. That was until the one afternoon that you were out watering your flowers and looked up to notice a long haired scraggly looking man on the other side of your gate. 

You didn’t recognize him at first, the hair a lot longer than last time you’d seen him and the beard was new. Then he smiled at you and your heart jumped out of your chest and you dropped the watering can in your hand before bringing your hands up to cover the gasp escaping your lips. 

“Hey Doll, long time no see,” he gives you his famous smirk.

That brings tears to your eyes and you run to the gate just as he is pushing it open and you throw yourself into his arms, “how?” was the only word you could get out. 

“I’ll tell you everything later, right now I just want to hold you,” he mumbled into your shoulder, lips pressed against the fabric of your blouse there.

~~~

The two of you had finally made it inside the house after having stood outside for over an hour just staring at each other, trying to commit every piece of the other to memory. You had put tea on and were sat down listening to his explanation of his return and why he suddenly had a fancy high tech metal arm. 

“...and then Steve and I decided to stay instead of hopping back, we both had something a little more important in this timeline,” he finished with a smile, gripping your hand a little tighter on the table.

“You’ve certainly had a more interesting time without me than I have,” you giggled.

“And I would’ve traded it all just to come home to you again,” He said, bringing your knuckles to his lips and leaving a kiss there.

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky x reader #bucky imagine #Bucky Barnes #marvel #marvel imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes/reader

[schrijverr]

The Mystery of Castiel

Dean sets out to prove that his husband, Castiel, is an acual angel walking amongst man. He tries to convince his friends with his documentary. much to the confusion and amusement of fans.

Part of the Famous Husband verse, which is also a series)

On AO3.

Ships: Destiel

Warnings: None, but I’ll be happy to tag something for you, no questions asked! :)

~~~~~~~~~~

The video opened with a grainy and moving shot of a dark hallway with lights spilling out of a doorway at the end. From behind the camera Dean whispered: “I think there’s something in my house. It feels ancient, powerful. So, I’m checking it out.”

He was close to the doorway and he took a deep breath before rounding the last corner, finally showing the kitchen.

Standing at the kitchen counter was Cas, he was in his pajamas and looked like a dear in headlights when he heard Dean enter. In his hands he held a cereal box from which he was eating dry cereal. The digital clock beside him displayed the time, 03:07. His voice was gruff from sleep as he hurriedly said: “It’s not what it looks like.”

Dean screamed, then his intro rolled. It was a drawn impala that came down the road, it stopped in the middle of the screen and the drawn Dean gave a wink to the viewers, then he sped off again and the smoke was bridge back to the video.

The backdrop was out of focus, but you could make out a bunch of red string and vague pictures. Dean was sitting in front of it, his hair was disheveled and he had dark bruises under his eyes. Of course, the viewers didn’t have to know that was thanks to Jessica's make up skills. He rubbed his forehead and said: “I can’t do this anymore.”

He sighed deeply and went on: “I love my husband, I do. He is my everything, but the elephant in the room hasn’t been discussed seriously and it’s eating me up. I don’t know how to start talking about it without him turning it into a joke. Which is why I am making this video, I want your opinions and tips on how to handle this or just for you tell me if I’m acting crazy. Because I really need someone to tell me what to do.”

He was now looking straight into the camera as he said: “I think Cas is either an angel or some sort of cryptid. He’s just not human that’s all I know, okay. He has to be immortal, not of this world. I mentioned this before, but no one takes me seriously.”

The video changed and a time line came into view, while Dean did a voice over: “I met Cas in September of 2010. According to him he is born in 1990, so he should be 30, if all of this is correct and he has aged just like a human would.”

A dot appeared on the line and 2013 came above it. Dean said: “I started my YouTube channel in 2013, Cas claims to have been 23 at this time and I have footage of him in one of my videos.”

A clip played of Dean telling the camera he was going to try and drink three liters of soda in one go with no break in between. In the background a man walked past.

“I now see that that might not have been the best clip, so here is a picture as well.” Deans voice was heard as a photo of a young Dean and Cas appeared. They were sitting next to each other on the beach. Dean had a beer in his hand and cheered to the camera while Cas did a peace sign in the background, bee sunglasses firmly on his face.

“To compare this to now, here is a picture Sam took of us last week.” Dean said and another photo appeared beside it. This one was taken on the couch the viewers knew so well from live streams. Dean and Cas were sitting next to each other in this picture as well, they had a blanket thrown over their legs and a bowl of popcorn on their laps. Dean was kissing Cas’s cheek while he flipped of Sam, aka the camera.

“He appears to have aged normally, although he is still dashingly handsome, if I might say so. Not the point. Anyway, since he has aged so normally most people don’t believe me, but I’m going to prove it.”, the photo’s faded and the Dean from earlier reappeared.

“I’ve been awake for days now, trying to find all the evidence I could, just to try and convince someone out there, to hear a voice back saying that I am not going crazy.” Dean said, “I am married to an immortal non-human, an angel in the biblical sense, and I need to tell someone.”

He picked up a manila folder, and opened it. He started: “Okay, so the first thing I have is his family. He grew up extremely Christian, or so he says, but I think he’s hiding behind a facade of biblical households to hide the fact that he is an angel himself and therefor witnessed everything that happened within the Bible.”

Dean chuckled: “He’s not even subtle about it. I mean, seriously. His name is also the name of an angel, Castiel the angel of Thursday. And he has eleven siblings, which makes a total of  twelve children, like twelve as in the amount of apostles Jesus had and they also all have biblical names. His brothers are Gabriel, Micheal, Raphael etcetera. He even has a brother named Lucifer that apparently no one talks to anymore, because he defied their father and is now in prison or something. That’s not a good cover story. That’s the Bible retold, but then bad.”

Cas and Dean had discussed what Dean would say about Castiels family beforehand and they had decided that this was enough. No reason to get into more detail about it. This was supposed to be funny and dumb, not revealing and sad.

“What shoots a hole in this, according to Sam is that we have pictures of him from when he was a child.” Dean said and a picture of a toddler Cas with big blue eyes and a small frown already on his face was shown, before Dean went on: “I think that Sam is wrong. If you’re a powerful entity, you can make fake pictures of a baby-you that has never existed. But I will let you draw your own conclusions about that.”

“Coming back to an earlier point,” Dean went on, “his History knowledge. This is also weird, since he knows everything about History, in particular thing about long long ago. Which as he points out is because he studied History. And that’s fair, but it’s weird.”

He rubbed his face again and groaned in frustration: “Ugh, just let me, let me put this into words better.”

“If you studied History, you know History and that’s just how it is. But what you don’t know is suddenly everything about the ancient times, no matter how much you specialized on it, which I know he hasn’t since he teaches History and you need to know more than just one period in order to do that.” Dean said, “We all on the same page?”

There was a silence, like he was waiting for a response. He acted like he got it: “Good, so why- how can he know everything in excruciating detail about that period? And he knows it like he’s been there and he has an abnormal amount of space in his brain for memories.”

A clip played of Cas, Dean behind the camera. They were on vacation, probably, and standing in a church. Dean said: “Can you repeat what you just said, sunshine?”

Cas looked over, saw the camera and shot it a tired look. He rolled his eyes and pointed at a picture of Jesus: “I said that this Jesus isn’t very realistic, because he isn’t smiling. Well, he has a smile, but it’s like this weird serene one. He was young when he was crucified. You really think a twenty-year-old had any patience or chill? I think not. He had a big happy smile,” then hastily, “probably. I think, at least.”

Disheveled Dean reappeared and said: “Tell me that is not fricking suspicious. And that’s just the one I captured on camera. He’s always commenting stuff like that.” his eyes lit up and he snapped his finger as he said: “Like, like he did in the Q&A video we did!”

The clip played of Castiel talking about the Tower of Babel.

“I mean come on. He talked about it like he knew how it had suddenly turned, because he had been there. I know what you’re thinking, it’s a story that gets told to Catholic children. And you’d be right, it is a biblical story. Yet, Mr. History talked about it like it is something that happened, even though it hasn’t been proven.” Dean explained, “And then he tried to cover it up, by saying how it would be an opportunity to find out. Good cover story, angel, but not happening.”

“And don’t get me started on his lack of pop-culture knowledge.” Dean went on, “I mean, I got him a phone. His first phone ever, for his 21st birthday. No one should get their first phone in 2011.”

A picture of Cas came on screen. He was holding up a phone, but it was all wrong. He held in with his pointer finger and thumb, a thumb that was in the middle of the screen, and he looked at it with confusion written all over his face.

“He also knew nothing about movies.” Dean appeared again, “I had to show him everything. And I mean everything. No Disney, no Star Wars, no Lord of the Rings, no Friends, no Indiana Jones, no horror movies, nothing. Almost like he had been away from earth while all of it was made and only popped down recently, which reconnects to my previous point about the specific History knowledge.”

“Another thing is his social skills.” Dean moved on to his last point, “He had no clue how to interact with people when I first met him and when I asked about it he claimed his ‘people skills were rusty’, like he used to have them, but they had faded over time. Which would be impossible, because at that age you either don’t have them or you do, you cannot have forgotten entirely.”

The screen went black again and a list appeared: “So we now have four strange things about him.”

1. Youth and Family

“His youth is filled with weird biblical details that are so accurate or strange that it couldn’t have been a coincidence.”

2. History Knowledge

“Despite his study, this is still weird and suspicious, but I feel like the evidence I showed speaks for itself.”

3. Lack of Pop-culture Knowledge

“This could also be his sheltered upbringing, but he was already out in the real world for two years when I met him, so why he had never encountered any of it is a mystery. With, in my eyes, an easy explanation.”

4. Lack of Social Skills

“Again this could be his upbringing, sure, but even then. If he isn’t lying about his family that is eleven children and parents along with an entire church to communicate with. You still pick up stuff like personal space.”

Dean appeared again and said: “I’ve laid out this evidence to some of my friends, this were their reactions.”

It cut to Sam sitting on a chair, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. Sam asked: “Do we really have to do this, Dean?”

“Yes,” Deans voice came from behind the camera, “just hear me out, okay. I get that you didn’t want to listen before, but I have evidence now.”

Sam sighed.

It cut again to Sam shaking his head and saying: “I don’t know, why you’re so invested in this. All of this has a rational explanation, you can see that too.”

“But the family thing is weird, right. It’s so suspiciously correct that has to be fake that just can’t be coincidence.” Dean protested.

“Actually,” Sam replied, “humans have a weird sense of perception about coincidence. So much happens at one moment in the world that something strange or usual is bound to happen, we classify that as coincidence, but it’s just statistics, Math. It’s very interest-”

“Yeah, whatever, nerd.” Dean interrupted, “So, you don’t believe me.”

“No, Dean. I don’t.” Sam told him, “Can I go now?”

“Yeah.” Dean sighed, before it cut to Charlie sitting in the same chair.

Dean asked her: “So do you know why you’re here?”

Charlie nodded: “Yes and I am willing to hear you out.”

“You are?” Dean said, excitement seeping into his voice.

Charlie nodded, then it cut to her reading the final notes in the folder. She bit her lip and said: “I don’t know, Dean. Some off this is pretty suspicious, but I wouldn’t call it evidence of Cas being an angel or other immortal. I mean, the church can be weird.”

“But the History thing is definitely suspicious, right? I’m not being crazy about that?” Dean asked

Charlie answered: “Well, it wouldn’t surprise me, if he had developed a special interest in ancient Christian history while growing up and if he used to be a heavy believer then I suspect he must have thought a lot about how Jesus must have been and stuff.”

Dean huffed, but didn’t respond.

There was a shaky video of Ellen saying: “Dean, I have a bar to run, I don’t have time for your bullshit.”

But then Jo was in the chair and she said: “Dean, I love you and all, but I’m not doing this.”

“Please, just hear me out.” Deans voice was tired and it cracked, Jo relented.

In the end she said: “This is all strange, sure. I might have believed a bit of it, if I hadn’t known Cas. I mean, come on. He’s a dork and a teacher. He loves you, Dean. Don’t ruin that over something stupid.”

A sigh was heard.

After that it was Bobby, who was sitting on the chair. He didn’t look all that pleased. Most knew Bobby from Deans series about Baby where he would sometimes help or appear in the background and stories about Deans childhood.

Dean said: “Bobby, you know me, right?”

“I’d hope so, boy. I practically raised you.” Bobby replied.

“Exactly,” Dean said, “so you know, I’m not one to make random claims about this.”

“I do.” Bobby sighed, clearly not liking where this was going.

“Great.” Dean exclaimed happily, “Because I have collected a bunch of evidence and I want your opinion on it.”

It cut to Bobby rubbing his forehead while he read the last bits of evidence. He looked up and said: “I think you’re grasping at straws, right now. There are more logical solutions than this, but you’re ignoring ‘em, because you want to see this.”

Significantly sadder than before Dean responded: “So you don’t believe me either?”

“No, of course not, you idjit.” Bobby replied, “I walked Cas down the isle, I think I know the damn guy. He’s not some immortal. And don’t go bothering Jody about this either, you hear me.”

Then it cut back to the disheveled Dean, who said: “As you can see they still weren’t ready to listen to me. So I turned to my last resort, Gabriel. Castiels older brother.”

Gabriel was lounging in the chair, smirk playing on his lips and lollipop in hand. He smiled: “Dean-o, it this what it’s come to? Crawling to me?”

Dean sighed from behind the camera and said: “It was either you or Michael, you’re the least worst option.”

“Ahw, you flatter me.” Gabriel said with a wink, then he asked: “So, what is this all about?”

Dean answered: “I’m trying to prove that Cas is an angel, or an other sort immortal, but main theory is angel. I figured you were the best bet to get to the truth.”

The moment the word ‘angel’ left Deans lips, Gabriels face fell although he quickly tried to cover it up. He tried to laugh it off: “You’re being ridiculous. Little Cassie is a nerd, sure, but immortal. Sorry, but that’s hysterical. Besides, how else would you explain me, or the other people at the wedding?”

“I don’t know, other angels? Actors? Lot of possibilities. Maybe it was mind control.” Dean replied.

Gabriel laughed and shook his head, but when he looked up his face was completely serious as he said: “Stop searching, Dean. You won’t find anything, just love your husband in peace and live a long and happy life, okay.”

Dean swallowed thickly and shakily said: “Okay.”

Then it cut back to Dean from before, who said: “As you can see, he wasn’t very helpful. Although he did kind of scare me, the guy nearly threatened me, but he also made Cas more suspicious. He’s hiding something, I can feel it.”

“Anyway, none of my outside resources were helpful, so it’s time to look at our subject himself, Cas.” Dean said and the screen warped to a vlog.

It was filmed in such a way that it was obvious that Dean was trying to be stealthy. It showed Castiel doing the dishes, after a second Dean asked: “Why don’t you use the dishwasher, sunshine?”

Cas looked around and shrugged: “I don’t trust it, Dean. Machinery doesn’t seem to like me and I have not come to an agreement with the dishwasher yet, maybe later.”

Dean laughed: “The dishwasher is not a businessman, Cas. Here I’ll load it in.”

Then it changed to the living room, specifically the couch. It was a solid couch, easily a 1000 pounds. Dean yelled: “Caaaaas!”

From the distance came: “What is it, Dean?”, along with footsteps.

“I dropped my phone and accidentally kicked it under the couch. Can you help me?” Dean answered.

Cas looked at the couch and nodded. First he tried to fit his hand under and swipe the phone out from underneath it, but when that didn’t work, he grabbed the underside of the couch and lifted it as he told Dean to grab his phone, which he did.

Dean smirked at him and said: “Wow, Cas, very sexy. Have you been going to the gym lately?”

He only got an eyeroll in return along with a quick kiss, before Cas disappeared.

What the viewers didn’t get to see was the small carjack that had been carefully edited out, along with Sam, who had operated it.

Then it was Dean running up to Cas, yelling: “Smile, angel!”

Castiel turned to him like a deer in headlights and blinked heavily when the flash nearly blinded him. What was peculiar about this moment was the fact that his eyes seemed to glow an intense light blue, almost as if he was illuminated from the inside, which had been an easy edit, but it looked very cool, if Dean was being honest.

After that Dean said: “I showed these clips, along with a few others that are, admittedly, less convincing to my friends.” followed by a quick compilation of Sam, Charlie, Jo and Bobby shaking their heads and telling him he was an idiot or other variations thereof, “As you can see, they were still unconvinced.” Dean finished.

“They were unconvinced, what I have set out to do isn’t achieved. They aren’t listening and they aren’t seeing the truth. I know what I see, I know what Cas is. And they are just blind for the truth.” Dean told the audience, “So, I’m trusting you to open your eyes and see what is out there. Please, look at this and see the truth.”

Then it went to the endcard. Dean waved and said: “That was it for today. I hope you can support me and tell me that I’m not crazy. If you do, comment about it, like this video, share it to get the word out. Maybe subscribe and ring that bell, so you won’t miss out on any updates about it. Bye Hunters, see you on the-”

He was cut of by the slam of a door. He startled and looked over, but before he could get over the shock the lights overhead exploded and the room went dark. You could hear the heavy and angry voice of Castiel, who bellowed: “Dean Winchester, you have not listened to the warning Gabriel gave you. Your time has come.”

Then the video ended.

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

Oh my god is he okay?!!!?!?!?!

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

Pff anyone who believes this

shit is an idiot

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

I know this is probably fake,

but I’m scared now

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

Don’t lie, who’s been a fan of

Dean since day one?

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

Okay, but are we gonna talk

about Gabriel???

No?

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

You’re not crazy Dean. I once

saw a ghost. The supernatural

is out there and Castiel can be

who you say he is. We don’t

know what the paranormal has

in store for us. Keep believing,

keep fighting!

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

Dudes, if he had time to edit and

upload it then he’s prbbly fine

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

Should we call the police??

Is he ok???

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

Dean be looking like a raccoon

and still be hella fine

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

Cass talking about Jesus is such

a mood, my Christian ass can

relate

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

IS HE DEAD?? DID DEAN JUST DIE!!! HELLO??? ANSWERS PLEASE!!!

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

Really? After all the sweet and

loving Cas content we got, we’re

supposed to believe this??

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

Get yo self a man whos willing

to make a fake docu bout you

pretending to believe youre an

actual angel

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

~

Dean was grinning as he scrolled through the comments on his latest videos. He was quite proud of it honestly and was very happy with how it had turned out and the reaction of the fans. Cas saw him smiling and asked: “So I take it, it went well.”

Looking up Dean said: “Yeah, you might have to answer some questions tomorrow, if you want those kids to trust you after ‘murdering me’.”

Cas groaned, but couldn’t suppress the smile and fond eyeroll.

Then the phone rang, Dean looked at the screen with surprise, but smiled when he saw who was calling. It was Sam, the picture of him sleeping with a plastic spoon in his mouth lighting up the screen. He picked up: “Heya, Sammy.”

Sam answered: “Dean, come save me.”

“What is it?” Dean asked, serious brother mode instantly activated.

But it was lost with Sams answer: “I know you’re trying to sell the whole ‘I got murdered by my own husband who is an angel’-stick, but you’re fans are worried and mobbing me on Twitter demanding answers.”

Dean laughed and relayed what Sam had said to Cas, who also chuckled. Then Dean turned back and said: “I’ll do something about it.”

“Somehow that’s not very comforting.” Sam said.

“Don’t worry about it, Sammy.”

“That isn’t helping.”

“I said don’t worry about it.”

“Dean? … Dean! … Dean!”

Dean hung up and turned to Cas as he asked: “Would you mind filming me?”

An hour later a video was posted on Deans Twitter and Instagram. It was off Cas walking into the living room, where an unharmed Dean was sat on the couch. Cas said: “Hello, Dean.”

Dean looked his way and smiled: “Hey, angel. What’s up? Why are you filming?”

Cas replied: “Some off your fans were worried about you after your last video, so I’m showing them you’re okay.”

Dean frowned and asked: “Why would they worry about me? It was just a dumb video doing Just Dance, not flattering, but hardly worrisome.”

“Don’t you remember your funny little video about me and some conspiracy?” Castiel asked, way too innocently.

Dean frown deepened and he looked confused and he said: “What are you even talking about?”

“Nothing, it was all just silly. Don’t worry about okay?” Cas answered, still holding onto that innocent voice.

Dean smiled at him and said: “Whatever you say, sunshine.”

Then it was over, needless to say that fans weren’t reassured, neither were the kids at school the next day, when Cas pretended he had no idea what they were talking about and shut them down the moment they tried to show him the video on their phones.

@Deanmustbeprotected posted about it on their Insta and multiple conspiracies were posted on every platform.

Dean and Cas along with everyone they’d gotten involved watched from the sidelines with amusement. Mission accomplished!

#RR writing #dean winchester #castiel/dean #sam and dean #dean x castiel #castiel #Destiel #Destiel AU #married destiel #destiel youtuber au #youtuber dean #youtube #charlie bradbury #bobby singer #jo harvelle #TEACHER CAS