HP/DRARRY Fic Fests (part 1)

Hahahahahahah this is both me and my friends.

That was beautiful. I have no words...

mornings are for lovers ~ a quick destiel drabble, 780 words.

Early morning, still veiled by fog. Dean has just pulled the Impala up to a diner that looks to be straight out of the ’60s, complete with teal and chrome trim. Sam is first to get out of the car, stretching his arms above his head in hopes to pop his spine. Dean and Cas lag behind, slow-moving and muttering complaints under their breath about it being too early and I need some damn coffee.

Used to the two being barely functional before their caffeine fix, Sam waits patiently, hands now stuffed in the pockets of his jacket. That is, until Dean waves him off, still standing by the driver’s side door, and says, “Go on ahead, Sammy. I need to talk to Cas.”

There’s no further explanation, just Dean staring back at Sam expectantly. Sam raises an eyebrow at him – a little surprised that Dean even managed to speak coherently this early – but relents. “Okay,” Sam says, if a little hesitantly, and goes into the diner alone, getting a table for the three of them.

He’s seated in a booth that looks out the front windows, orders a coffee for himself (he doesn’t know how long they’ll be, and Dean will complain if his has gone cold), and again, waits for the other two to join. He passes the time by scrolling through news articles on his phone, flicking occasional glances at Dean and Cas where they stand next to the Impala, their heads inclined towards one another – although that’s all Sam can see from his spot.

Maybe ten minutes pass, possibly more. When Sam raises his eyes to check on the two outside, they’re caught in an embrace; Cas’ arms are around Dean’s shoulders, Dean has fistfuls of Cas’ coat, like they’re holding on. Sam averts his gaze – something about the moment seemed too… It’s not for Sam to see.

It’s another couple minutes, though no more than five, before Dean and Cas make it into the diner, coming over to Sam and sitting on the same side booth. Sam takes note of Dean’s reddened cheeks, the near bashful way they keep looking at each other from under their lashes, the soft smile Cas has.

“Did you order yet?” Dean asks Sam, and clearly they weren’t going to talk about what just happened.

“Just coffee,” Sam answers, sliding his gaze to Cas for a second, who keeps fiddling with something on his left hand, out of view from Sam.

The waitress comes up to their table, and Sam lets the questions bubbling around his mind drop for now.

It doesn’t click for Sam until later, while they’re driving out on some back road. Or, well, it became more obvious. Cas is in the passenger seat with a book in his lap. He reaches over to Dean, dropping his arm over the length of the back rest, hand on Dean’s shoulder. Cas’ fingers begin to sift idly through the hair at Dean’s nape, and Sam sees it.

A ring.

Oh. Oh.

Sam is quiet for a few moments, letting this new information sink in. Sam has never seen his brother happier, or more at ease, and the same goes for Cas. He’s happy for them. “Congrats, you guys,” Sam says eventually, and he means it.

It’s Cas who turns to look at him, smiling more with his eyes. “Thank you, Sam,” he says, and Sam smiles back.

Dean catches Sam’s eye in the rear view mirror. He doesn’t say anything, and neither does Sam. He nods, once, giving his silent support, and then Dean returns his gaze back to the road – though Sam can see from the movement of his cheek that he’s smiling.

~

Dean and Cas were married on a Thursday morning in the parking lot of some nondescript diner, Dean pressing Cas back to the driver’s side door of the Impala. For others, it was hardly perfect, but to Cas and Dean, it was more than they ever thought they would get. Their vows to each other were only for them to hear. Dean had spoken his in the hollow under Cas’ ear, against his skin, heart so full he felt close to erupting, but Cas held him together – like always. Cas, for his part, said his in Enochian first, then in English, hands cupping Dean’s jaw, words whispered against Dean’s mouth. Then they’d kissed, soft and chaste, and Dean pointedly ignored the stinging in his eyes, while Cas’ thumbs stroked over his cheeks, murmuring softly in Enochian.

It was theirs, and it was good.

This finally popped up again, reblogging for it gets better every time!!!!

“i am a monument to all your sins” is such a fucking raw line for a villain it’s amazing that it came from halo, a modernish video game, and not some classical text or mythos

Now ... Don't go around breaking my heart like that

How does it feel? I don't know, I...

I thought this was angsty at first... BUT THANK YOU!!!

Day 30 - Kansas

It takes him 3 days to get there - 3 days of driving and barely any stops for food. He doesn’t exactly know why he’s going up there - maybe to see it, maybe to talk, maybe to just sit. But either way, it takes him 3 days. 

He gets there when it’s dark and he has to stop the Impala and sit for a very long minute - which turns into 3, and then 4, and then 5. And then he’s rushing to get out of the confines of the car and the door is slamming shut behind him. 

The air is cold when he steps out, and his hair gets swept from his face - he really needed to cut it again. He shoves his hands into his jacket and he pushes himself further down into it to block out the cold. He stands still for another moment before he takes a deep breath, the cold burning his lungs, and he starts forward. 

It takes him exactly 123 steps to find the grave. It takes him 23 seconds to kneel down and settle his hand on the granite name of Mary Winchester. He let out a shuddering breath at the feel of it, and he bowed his head slightly. 

He could do this. He could say it - even if it wasn’t really her, it wasn’t like he could go up to heaven and tell her. He braces himself, letting himself take a moment. 

“Mom-” he starts, before he cuts off, emotions flooding through and causing his throat to feel thick. He swallows thickly before he begins again. “Mom…I…I thought you should know something.”

It takes him another moment to pull his hand away from the stone, dropping it to his side. He stands again after a moment and takes a deep breath, one of his fingers moving to twist the ring on his hand. 

“I’m engaged,” he says, his breath coming out in a rough breath, and he says it more to the stars in the sky than to the grave. He feels a low weight lifted off of him, and he feels himself relax. “Yeah…I’m engaged,” he repeats, bowing his head, his eyes finding the ring quickly. 

“Cas asked me about a month ago and I….I needed to tell you,” he whispers, his chest constricting. He needed to tell her - it was this way or no way, and he would take this way. He stood for a moment longer before nodding and turning on his heel, marching back to the car. 

It would take 3 days to get back to where Sam and Cas were now, but he would get there. And when he did, he’d have Cas to hold him as he told what he did, to rock him as he told how it hurt, to do everything he could to make Dean forget. 

He had Cas. He was engaged to Cas. It was fine. Everything was fine. 

-

thought some non angst was needed

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@the-trixster-and-the-fallen @petrichoravellichor @winchester-reload @tibbinswrites

CASTINGGGGG

likes to charge, reblogs to cast

You sir/ma'am/entity, are what we expect from now on

And of course I'm still gonna read this fic a hundred times over

sometimes you read a fic and it’s so predictable but in the best way possible like, of course draco and harry had a secret sexual relationship right after the war of course it ended badly less than a year after it began because neither of them know how to talk about their feelings of course they ghosted each well into their mid twenties but now? oho! now draco is back! perhaps he is friends with harry’s friends, perhaps they are now colleagues, perhaps harry needs a professional expert and draco malfoy is the only one smart enough in all of great britain to help out and OF COURSE they are going to spend the entire fic agonizing over what their relationship could have been if only they hadn’t been so daft and selfish in their late teens!! 

A reblog is when you choose to share something you feel your fellow Tumblr users will enjoy.

Tell me, Will... what are you reblogging?

Since people are getting into Hannibal again, I feel like this never got the attention it deserved.

The best dialogue ever

"I'm British. This is not tea." -he says to the Chinese-American woman