BOSTON BABYYY! I’m still in shock. And I woke up and it wasn’t a dream! A little more than half of my life and I’m so happy to be a part of it all!
14 years. 4 professional sports teams. 9 championship titles. Feeling blessed to call Boston my home ❤️
“Alright, next item on the agenda…” Bellamy tries not to roll his eyes as Jaha trails off, combing through his near-illegible notes.
Staff meetings usually end up like this, discussing whatever topics Jaha can recall or make up off the top of his head, until Vera inevitably fills the silence with updates on her pet programs nobody else wants that many details about (seriously, Bellamy is as big a fan of trees as the next person, but her Saturday morning wellness group is starting to sound more and more like a cult), and Luna sitting passively by, diligently taking notes and refusing to exchange even the slightest expression of mutual understanding that Bellamy shoots her way.
Don’t get him wrong; Bellamy likes his coworkers. It’s not the tight-knit, found-family feel Leslie Knope had prepared him for when he got hired to his small town’s Parks & Recreation division, but they each care a lot, in their own way. All of his favorite people care way too much about stuff. It’s what he likes in a person.
And he does like parks. Arcadia has some pretty nice ones, clean and well-kept with cool signs about historical things that happened nearby and/or noteworthy plant species. Not to mention that time last year he got to quash a movement for a confederate monument. That was one of his finer moments, if he does say so himself.
Mostly, he took the job to get a foot in the door of local government, but the soft spot he’s always harbored for parks– free, accessible, fairly safe spaces for him and Octavia to hang out in when they didn’t want to be at home, growing up– is what clinched the deal.
Still. Staff meetings are the worst.
He’s in the middle of wondering whether anyone is going to eat the last bagel Luna brought in, and also whether it has hemp in it, when Jaha says his name.
He blinks, looking up, and finds everyone staring at him.
“Sorry. I zoned out for a second. What’s up?”
“I was saying I have a special project for you,” says Jaha, and Bellamy groans inwardly.
Jughead Jones just wants to celebrate Betty Cooper’s birthday, but it’s hard to do that when you have no cash. When the opportunity arises to make some money in time for her birthday, he jumps at it, even if he might face some verbal (and physical) retaliation.
warning: angst below, mentions of blood, swearing.
also, keep reading cut — sorry mobile users!
So this is the first prompt I’ve ever received, and I’m super excited to finally be able to post it! Major thanks to @diokomen, @itstenafterfour, @ariquitecontrary, and @crawledoutofthesea for giving me ideas, editing, giving me honest opinions, and occasionally throwing little sentences in. Without you guys, this fic would be nothing. <3333
P.S. this probably still needs some editing, but I was too tired to even try. Sorry.
The world was laughing at him. No, really. Every step he took, every wince he made was followed sharply by a loud clap of thunder or the strike of a lightning bolt a couple miles away. He couldn’t even take a shaky breath without the rain pouring a little harder. So, yeah, the world was laughing at him.
He shuffled forward slowly, ignoring the pain in his, well, his everywhere. He was just trying to be a good boyfriend for Christ sakes. It was Betty Cooper’s birthday. The love of his life’s birthday. Yeah, he hated celebrating his birthday, but that’s because it was his birthday. There was no point in celebrating another shitty year of his life, but Betty’s birthday was different.
Betty was the light in a dark room. Which, yeah, sounds cliche and kind of puts way too much responsibility on her, but it was true. She was one of the few good things left in Riverdale, and she deserved to be celebrated. So, he was going to celebrate damn well.
requested by @dat-town ( the title is a ouran high school host club reference huhu i’m lame )
Your apartment was a mess, completely different from how you
left it just a few days ago. You had just arrived home from a nice weekend
spent with your parents and left the person you thought you could trust the
most with the keys to your place and a pinky promise that nothing would be
Title: Please Stay (Jimin) (Paper Towns Inspired) Genre: I don’t really know. Fluff, Slight Angst Words: 1379 (I’ve decided to return to counting words)
A/N: First of all, you should listen to Sleeping With Sirens - James Dean & Audrey Hepburn. Next, I was reading a fluff imagine while listening to a song then Closer came up and I just got so hyped that I ran towards my notebook and my pen. I really wrote like mad. The song somewhat reminded me of Paper Towns, and I love the book, so I followed that line. Uh, yeah, this was inspired by Paper Towns but it’s not as sad as the book. Enjoy!
Everything was going fine until someone called your name. The tone somewhat sounded like disbelief but you hadn’t noticed that. You just turned around with a big smile on your face, ready to greet the caller. It wasn’t what you had expected, though. You never expected to see your best friend from three years ago, looking at you with an unbelieving expression. Everything around you froze. Your past was finally catching up to you.
Jimin stared at you and you stared back. All of the memories together came flooding your thoughts. It’s been a long three years. Everything rushing back to you made you a little dizzy.
You inhaled sharply, “Woah.”
“H-hey,” Jimin awkwardly said. He hasn’t even changed…or has he?
“Jimin…what are you doing here?” you say as you placed the tray on the counter. You pressed your hand on your forehead, trying to calm the dizzy feeling in your head. It didn’t work so you put away your hand and faced Jimin instead. You were glad that you were about to close the shop. No one would bother you together.
Jimin was enthralled by you. He took in everything he had missed for three years. You were even more beautiful than before. Your hair was tied into a messy bun, you still wore minimal makeup, your eyes were as alluring as ever, your cheeks were more red, more healthy. Everything about you screamed beauty, warmth, perfection, and…calmness.He smiled at the sight of you no longer looking so stressed out. You looked relaxed and the worry lines and dark circles were gone.
“Jimin?” you raised an eyebrow, “I asked you a question, what are you doing here?”
Jimin was suddenly pulled back to reality. He remembered what had happened three years ago. You had run away. This wasn’t a big deal because you always ran away then you would return after a week with so many stories about your adventures. This time, you had run away for good. You were suddenly gone. After a month, your parents gave up looking for you. But Jimin didn’t, he felt like you were a mystery that he needed to solve or else he’d go insane. He couldn’t handle the fact that his best friend had just suddenly disappeared three days before graduation with no clues to your whereabouts. He never even got to confess. You had left him so confused, so heartbroken inside.
But here he was, staring at you in a little coffee shop. You and him in one room after three years. You and him.
Jimin cleared his throat, “I was here for coffee…really. I wasn’t stalking or anything. Oh my god, that was weird.”
Oh. You were slightly disappointed. You had thought that he would still be looking for you. Maybe doing some detective shit. You mentally face palm yourself.
“Oh, okay. We are already closing though,” you gave him an apologetic smile. You found yourself staring at every part of Jimin. He looked ineffable, his features were sharper and you had observed the style of his clothes. He was wearing an oversized hoodie and baggy pants, a pair of shades and a face mask was visibly tucked inside his pocket. Still, he wore makeup. Jimin was wearing makeup. Jimin is an idol. There was a pang of hurt in your heart. You didn’t get to see him debut. You promised him.
You couldn’t believe it. You couldn’t believe that the guy who used to always stutter and always looked cute and was always awkward was the guy in front of you. His features had changed but none of him has really changed. You knew that and you were comforted with that feeling of him not really changing.
It’s as if none of you were getting any older.
“I’m really sorry,” you bit your lip at the double meaning of what you had just said. You really were sorry that you left him. He was probably very confused as to why you left. But you just had to.
What if he had changed? Remembering he was an idol already, you bowed down and started to leave. The tears of guilt and sadness were already threatening to release.
Everything took a surprising turn for both of you. Jimin–involuntarily for his part–grabbed your wrist, softly tugging it to make you face him. When you had faced him, Jimin didn’t let go of your wrist. He felt that once he let go, he’ll lose you again. He couldn’t since he still had his ‘crush’ on you. He would never get over you. And he knew all that.
“Wait, don’t, Y/N. Before I met you, everything about me was plain and ordinary. It was all black and white. My every day was always the same. I would wake up, prepare, eat, go to school…go home, study and sleep. But when…when I met you on that playground at the most perfect time ever, everything had changed. Y/N, my world had suddenly changed. You were always filled with mystery and adventures and nothing is ever the same for you. And remember when you sneaked me out?”
You softly smiled at the memory. Why wouldn’t you remember that night? It was your last night with him
“I was so jittery, a clumsy ninja, but you just grabbed my hand and dragged me with you. We both ran around town and you showed me the world, Y/N. That was when everything dawned on me. I didn’t like you, I love you. You were the reason for my fast heartbeats and the butterflies in my stomach. You caused my toxic infatuation of you. My adoration of you,”
Your heart rate sped up.
“Y/N, you make me so happy. Heck, you make me so sad, broken confused, excited, giddy, inspired and…in love. I love you so much that when you disappeared, everything felt so empty. Y/N Y/L/N, you took all of my emotions with you and I want it back. I want you back. Please…please just stay. Y/N, don’t keep disappearing. Stay.”
“Jimin,” you hurriedly wiped the tears you weren’t aware of until now and smiled at him.
Jimin’s hand that was holding your wrist had laced itself into your own hand. The familiar euphoric feeling of being with him had returned. How you missed being with him. It’s been three years.
“Jimin, don’t you know how hard it was to keep it all inside since I didn’t want to ruin our friendship? And now it’s frustrating to know that you liked me too but everything is just so messed up,” you say starting to smile with tears falling, “God damn it, Jimin, I love you no matter how cheesy all of this sounds. I love you I love you I love you. I love you, Park Jimin!”
Jimin pulled you into a warm hug. He whispered, “I know how that feels too. I love you to infinity and beyond, Y/N.”
Both of your hearts were beating so fast you could hear the melodic harmony it made.
“I got tired of everything,“ you suddenly say, after a moment of beautiful silence. You bury your head near his shoulder.
“The whole society is so messed up, you know? It scares me and I just can’t handle it anymore. I mean, the pressure from school, family, friends…from everyone. The stress of doing everything just to graduate to meet up to everyone’s expectations only to go to a tougher level of education with more eyes and expectations,” you pull back to look at Jimin.
“Everything is so frustrating that it’s eating me all up. I just had to be away from everyone. Away from the expectations. I found this town and continued my studies, my hopes, my dreams here. But every once in a while, my past haunts me and it’s still eating me up. And I’m so sorry, I suddenly left. I just couldn’t handle the pain of saying good bye to you.”
“Don’t worry, I’m here. We’re both far away from them. We’re together now. Just please stay. Don’t ever leave me again, okay?,” Jimin said as you melted into his arms again.
“Okay,” you say as you both smile at each other. Jimin and you were both on cloud nine and nobody is taking it away from both of you.
This isn’t even the final draft and, like In the Backseat, you’ll see a much cleaner version down the road. For now bare witness to the bones of what became the highlight of my mini drama portfolio, ft. characters from The Nightmare Before Christmas and a song by Creature Feature.
(Anastasia AU) Years after the revolt against the major houses,
the Coopers have returned to their previous wealthy and powerful
status and are offering an enormous reward to anyone who can find
them their youngest daughter, Elizabeth. An ocean away, Jughead Jones
and Veronica Lodge find Betty Carter, an orphan in every sense, except she
holds an uncanny similarity to Elizabeth Cooper. Both in dire need of
the reward money, they decide to teach her how to be the lady of a
Chapters: Prologue, 1 Word Count (per chapter): 800
A/N: First fic!! I’m not very innovative with story titles or town names it turns out. I used a town name generator for town names :p Tagging @teiubescdraga and @carelesscase because they replied to my post about writing this. I hope you like it!!
The sounds of angry people were nearing the mansion and the entire family was looking for Elizabeth. It was Polly who finally found her, hiding behind all the heavy cloaks in the wardrobe, her tiny hands balled so tightly, her palms were lined with wounds from her nails. Polly reached in, gently opening her hands and seeing the blood. She frowned and Elizabeth was afraid she was upset. Instead, her older sister gave her a soft smile and said, “The carriages are waiting outside. Mother and father are waiting outside.”
“Just for a bit. Father says we’ll be back soon. Oh, but, perhaps we should wash your hands first,” she said, her steady and soothing voice giving Elizabeth the confidence she needed. She nodded, carefully crawling out of the wardrobe to not ruin her clothes in addition to her palms. Polly led her to a basin and washed her hands, waiting for the water to run clear instead of red, and then pulled out a handkerchief. Elizabeth’s eyes widened and she said, “Is that…”
“What I’ve been working on for the last few weeks? Yes,” Polly chuckled. “I wanted to wait until your birthday to give it to you but I was worried with everything happening, I would lose it before I got a chance,” she held it out and Elizabeth took it, the cloth instantly becoming heavier with water. Turning it over, she saw:
Embroidered along the top right corner in light pink, standing out against the white. On the bottom left corner, smaller but still legible was:
Love, Polly C, Mirston.
She beamed up at her older sister but the softness of the moment was ruined by their mother shrieking for them from without. Taking each other’s hand, the two sisters ran out. They ran towards the parked carriage, with their mother and father already seated inside and waving to them to hurry up.
The first gunshot sounded.
The horse neighed just as the sisters reached. Polly got in first, her parents grabbing her arms and pulling her in. Elizabeth reached for their arms after that but the second gunshot made the horse rear, scaring her and making her lose grip on her parents. Her arm slipped as the carriage lifted slightly and she fell, hitting her head on one of the steps and losing consciousness.
Jughead was on his way to the carriages parked at the back, for the staff, when he heard shouts coming from the lord and lady. Without thinking, he ran around, to the front of the house and found the unconscious little lady with no parents in sight. He could also see fire blazing in the distance – whoever was coming for the house was nearing fast. On instinct he ran up to her and pulled her to her feet, putting her arm across his shoulders and holding her up. The handkerchief she had been carrying fell out of her hand and he quickly picked it up, dusted it off and stuffed it into her coat pocket.
Bringing her to the cart he and his father were travelling on, he showed her to his father. His father stared at the lady for a moment and then pulled her onto the cart, commending Jughead on his strength simultaneously. Jughead’s chest swelled as he climbed into the cart behind the lady.
“We have a problem, Juggie,” his father whispered once he was seated beside him. He realised his father had a blanket over the lady, hiding her face as much as possible while allowing her to breathe.
“These people,” he signalled to those climbing onto the cart now that they were comfortably seated, “they want her. I need you to co-operate with me, now. We need to get the little lady to safety. We can’t take her to the lord and lady’s new home because we’re sure to be followed. We’ll take her to the port and get her on a ship, taking her across the ocean.”
“Where will she go, father?”
“I know a woman in Eldham – Sierra McCoy. She’s a good and well-off woman. We’ll send her there. But I’m going to need your help to do it, Juggie.”
“Of course. Whatever you want,” Jughead said, nodding decisively.
This decision was carried out later that night when, with the darkness as their cover, Jughead and his father silently approached the docks. Jughead would only later find out why his father knew the man in the hood who he paid off to take the still-unconscious little lady across the never-ending waters. But tonight, he stood holding his father’s hand as he watched a ship pull away from the docks and sail off, unaware that there was a girl with a lost identity and bloody palms aboard.
Modern Living:Posh Plans For Exciting Urban Living
In May 1962 Playboy magazine ran an article titled “The Playboy Town House: Posh Plans for Exciting Urban Living”. The fictional bachelor pad, designed by architect R. Donald Jaye, is here brought to life by Humen Ten’s gouache and ink renderings.
The article dwells deeply into the requisites and narrative of the Town House describing it as a ‘swinging manor for the modern man.’ The urban home was to offer ‘the expansive, nonconforming elbowroom, legroom and luxurious living room usually identified with an exurban retreat, and have the relatively carefree conveniences that an on-the-go bachelor could maintain with a minimum number of servants beating about the preserve.’
Summary: The moment Reader turned 18, she packed her bags and moved a couple of towns over. After years of blowing off Christmases and Thanksgivings, Reader is forced to attend her grandfather’s birthday back in her hometown. However, when her car breaks down, she calls her mother and informs of the unfortunate situation. Her mother, headstrong, transfers the party to Reader’s town. And when she hears a certain Winchester over the phone, she assumes its Reader’s boyfriend. Now, horrified and confused, Reader hires Dean to be her boyfriend for the weekend.
A/N: A new series! I really hope you like this one. I have no idea how many parts this is going be, but my goal is six. This is just how I imagine Dean if he grew up in a small town and wasn’t a hunter. Also, I’m taking requests, so please send me some things you’d like to see. I hope you enjoy it!
“Meg, I need those pancakes!” you called from your place behind the counter.
Meg popped her head through the wide window that connected the kitchen with the dining area. “You’ll get them when you get them!” she barked before turning back to the kitchen.
You rolled your eyes, picking up the coffee pot. “Hey Cas,” you smiled. “Coffee?”
Cas nodded, grinning widely. “That would be great, (Y/N).”
Pouring him a cup of coffee, you asked, “How are things at the inn?”
“Heavenly.” he answered, looking up from his menu.
“Really? Naomi’s not giving you a hard time?”
Cas shook his head. “She got fired. Something about mistreating employees.”
“Good, she was a real bitch.” You set the coffee pot down, and pulled out your notepad. “What can I get you?”
Shutting the menu, Cas replied, “Pancakes with scrambled eggs and a side of bacon.”
Quickly jotting down the order, you grabbed the pot and turned around. Behind the counter, you slid Cas’s order on the ledge of the kitchen window.
“I gotta get to school.” You heard Kevin say as he walked around the counter. “Say hi to Bobby for me!” He called as he rushed to the back, pulling off his apron.
“Will do.” you nodded as he came back out with his bag and jacket. “Good luck on your AP test!” you wished as he exited the diner.
He waved his hand behind his head, signaling he heard you as he walked to the high school a few blocks away.
You were about to continue your coffee rounds when Meg called, “Pancakes.” She placed the plate of hot pancakes and fruit on the silver edge of the open window.
You gave her a small smile, to which she returned with much sarcasm, and made your way to Crowley. “Pancakes.” you smiled.
He looked up from his newspaper. “About time,” he grumbled, putting down the paper and picking up a fork.
You ignored his comment. “Anything else I could get you?” you asked politely.
“If it arrives in this century,” he quipped. “I’ll have some more coffee.”
You mimicked Meg’s sarcastic smile, uttering, “Right away,”
As you walked behind the counter and grabbed the coffee pot again, the bells over the door chimed. “Bela,” you heard Crowley call. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about our agreement.”
You turned in time to watch Bela’s face drop. She shifted her gaze to the ground as Crowley invited her to sit with him. You grabbed another mug and made your way to his table. Setting down a cup in front of Bela, you poured her some coffee.
“On the house,” you muttered to her, knowing Crowley was about to take everything she ever owned.
She gave you a tight lipped, yet grateful smile before turning back to Crowley. “Looking sharp this morning,” she forced him a grin.
You quickly refilled Crowley’s cup and made your way behind the counter. Last thing you need, was to be in the middle of one of Crowley’s deals.
“Flattery gets you nowhere,” he replied. “I just wanted to ask you a few questions.”
Bela looked down at her coffee. “I don’t have your money Crowley,” she mumbled.
Crowley smirked. “When you wanted that house, you said you’d repay me in installment over the next ten years, did you not?”
Bela nodded. “Yes, but-”
“And, here we are, the tenth year.” he cut her off. “And you still don’t have my money.”
Bela looked up at him. “Look, I just need more time.” she mumbled noticing that heads were turning to witness Crowley’s wrath unleash on her.
Just then, Jody entered. She took one look at Crowley and Bela, then - with wide eyes - made her way to the counter. “A dozen donuts please and a coffee to go.” she said lowly. Even the police officer was afraid of the looming consequences of Bela’s deal.
Without a word, you quickly unfolded a large donut box, and began placing in a dozen donuts. After shutting it, you grab a disposable to go cup, and poured some coffee into it before handing it to Jody. “7.59” you muttered after pressing several buttons on the register.
Jody pulled out her wallet from her coat pocket, and gave you a ten. “Keep the change.” she smiled. “And say hi to Bobby for me, will you?”
Nodding, you mumbled, “Sure,” and she was out the door.
You turned your attention back to Crowley. After Bela’s plea for more time, he remain quiet for a while. Slowly, very slowly, an arrogant grin tugged on his lips. “I’m sorry have you mistaking me for the caring, considering type of business man?” he snarled. “You entered a pun shop, you had nothing to offer but you wanted a house. What did I do? I got you a house, and let you repay me over the course of ten years. I think that’s enough time.”
His loud words silenced the restaurant. You sighed, shaking your head.
“Yes, but-” Bela tried again, but Crowley silenced her once more.
“You better pack,” he lowered his voice slightly as he continued. “Because that pretty little house of yours, is now mine. I expect it to be empty when I move in tomorrow.”
Bela’s eyes glassed over. “No, I have nowhere to go!” she whisper-yelled.
Crowley began cutting up his syrup drenched pancakes and eating. “Better figure that out soon.” he said, mimicking her tone of voice.
Reluctantly, an embarrassed and confused Bela stood from her seat, and left. Crowley joyfully turned back to his food.
“French toast and eggs!” Meg called, leaving the plate out for you to serve. “And waffles and bacon.” she said putting out the other plate
You let out a small sigh, and turned to the plates. As you made your way to Ellen and Jo, Bobby emerged from the makeshift office-apartment over the diner.
“How are things?” he asked as you handed the plates to the two girls.
“Great,” you quickly replied to him before turning back to your customers. “Anything else I can get you?”
“That’s all, Hun,” Ellen smiled. “Thank you.”
You gave them one last smile before making your way to Bobby. He was pouring himself a cup of coffee as you grabbed the rag from the pocket of your apron and began wiping down the counter.
“Crowley only made one person cry, and Kevin and Jody say hi.” you finished your thought as you cleared away the empty plates on the counter.
“Well it’s only nine, so don’t get your hopes up.” Bobby replied, taking a large gulp from his coffee.
You let out a laugh. “You know I can hear you.” Crowley informed, not tearing his eyes away from his food.
“You know I don’t care.” Bobby retorted, setting down his coffee mug.
You let out another fit of laughter as you picked up the bust bin. Bobby quickly took the bin out of your hands. “I got this.” he smiled. “Why don’t you make some more coffee?”
You smiled and nodded. “Thanks,” He returned the smile before entering the kitchen.
The bell chimed once again. Looking up from the counter after one final wipe down, you found Dean walking in avoiding Jo’s eye. He took a seat at the counter as he rubbed his reddened cheek with one hand.
“What happened to you?” you asked, taking out a mug from under the counter and pouring in the last bit of coffee.
After a long gulp, he answered, “Got caught.”
You rolled your eyes. You should’ve known that would be the answer. Dean was notorious for dating one girl and sleeping with another. “Of course you did.”
“Order up,” Meg called. You turned, and grabbed Cas’s order.
As you made your way to him, Dean shouted over his shoulder, “I’ll take one of those.”
You placed the plate in front of Cas, then made your way back behind the counter. “Coming right up.” you murmured jotting down the same order, and - knowing Dean - adding extra bacon.
You gave the order to Meg, then began refilling the fresh filter with grinded coffee beans. As you poured water into the maker, the wall phone rang. You finished pouring the water and started the maker before answering the phone.
“This is Bobby’s.” you greeted, holding the phone with your shoulder as you pulled your notepad and pen from the pocket of your apron.
“(Y/N)?” a high pitched, familiar voice asked.
You gulped, throwing the pen and notepad back in your pocket and transferring the phone to your hand. “Mom.” you managed to reply in a steady voice.
“What kind of greeting was that? Identify yourself next time! People need to know who they are talking to.” she immediately criticized.
You narrowed your eyes in confusion. “Mom you called me, so you must’ve know who would answer.” you tried to reason.
“No, I call Gilbert’s.” she attempted to correct.
You let out a dry laugh. “His name is Bobby. How did you get Gilbert from Bobby? They don’t even sound the same.”
“I don’t have time for this, (Y/N).” she suddenly snapped. “Look, the whole family is coming over for the weekend to celebrate your grandfather’s birthday and since you’re part of the family-”
“Unfortunately.” you muttered, slightly cutting her off.
Your mother continued, dismissing your comments “you are obligated to come. Everyone is coming in tomorrow. I expect to see you there.”
You scoffed. “Mom, I have work. I can’t just drop everything and come running.” you stated.
“(Y/N) (M/N) (L/N)!” she shouted.
Fuck. You thought. She just full named me.
“You are coming. I don’t care if it interferes with your savage plans.” she demanded.
“Savage?” you questioned. “I’m working! How is that savage?”
You heard her sigh heavily. “I don’t have time to get into this right now. I’ll see you tomorrow.” and with that, she hung up.
You stared at the phone, stunned and confused. Hanging up, Crowley came to the register. “Family?” he asked.
“My mother.” you muttered, calculating his older.
Crowley let out a groan. “My condolences.” he said, paying in exact change. Of course, he’d never leave a tip.
And as he left, you made your way to his table, and cleared it off.
The bell chimed, letting you know another customer as entered. You looked up, holding Crowley’s dirty dishes, and found Sam. He offered you a quick tight lipped smile, then made his way to his brother.
Looking between the two, you were always baffled about their ability to be polar opposites. One was a lawyer dressing in a clean cut suit everyday, and the other was a mechanic who was always covered in oil stains and dirt.
You put the dishes in an empty bin under the counter as Sam said, “What’s so important?”
“Mom’s coming in from Kansas.” Dean grumbled before taking his last sip of coffee.
Refilling his cup, Sam looked down at the counter. With his eyebrows furrowed and puppy dog eyes out, he mumbled, “Did she say when?”
Dean shrugged. “All I know is that she’s coming.”
“Order up,” Meg shouted, pulling your nosy ass out of their conversation.
You grabbed the plate, and put in in front of Dean. “Extra bacon?” he asked, almost sounding surprised.
You nodded. “Isn’t that what you always order?”
Dean cleared his throat and nodded. “Yeah,”
You dismissed his shortness, knowing he was having a pretty rough morning and turned to Sam. “Anything I could get you?”
“Just a coffee to go please.” he forced a smile, clearly still trying to process the news.
You returned it. As you poured the coffee into the cup, Bobby emerged from the kitchen.
“What happened to your face?” he asked, looking to Dean.
Dean glared at him as he swallowed the food in his mouth. “Ask Jo.” he snapped then proceeded to roughly cut up his pancakes.
Bobby looked between the blond girl sitting near the window, and the moody guy hunched over the counter. Then, under his breath, he grumbled, “Idjits,”
After flipping the last chair, and resting it on the table, you made your way behind the counter where Bobby was handing the cash. “Alright, well that’s the last chair.” you sighed, untying your apron and hanging it in the back. Walking back out to Bobby, you took a deep breath then said, “Um, so my mother called this morning.”
Bobby looked up from the money in his hands, and gave you a careful look. “The one you ran away from?”
“Is there another one I mentioned?” you asked.
Bobby shrugging, going back to his counting. “Well, there’s the witch, the devil, the wicked, the-”
You cut him off. “Okay, I get it.”
“What did she want?” he asked.
You looked down at her shoes as you picked at your black chipped nail polish. “Um,” you mumbled. “There’s this thing with my family, and they’re all coming and so she wants me there too. Anyway, it’s tomorrow morning, and it’s gonna last the whole weekend. So, was wondering if maybe I could just get a couple of days off and put myself in the worst possible torture known to man.” you rambled with your eyebrows furrowed and voiced cracked with anxiety.
Bobby set the cash down and turned to look at you. He sighed offering you a tight lipped smile. “Well, as long as it’s torturous.” he joked breaking into a full on smile.
You let out a sigh of relief as you chuckled along with him. “Thank you so much. I promise I won’t enjoy it one bit.”
He nodded as he made his way over to you and pulled you into a fatherly hug. You returned the embrace, letting your head rest on his chest. “Drive safe.” he murmured against your hair. “Call when you get in, okay?”
You nodded, faintly agreeing. Pulling away from Bobby, you gave him one last smile, and he tossed you one last good luck, then you were on your way back to your house. And though you had a car, thanks to Bobby, you decided not to take it that morning and walk to work. Besides, it wasn’t that far, possibly a ten minute walk if you took the shortcut.
When you got home, you immediately crashed on the couch. Your back ached and your feet were sore. But, you were thankful for the fact that you had a place to find comfort in when your body was in such pain.
You lazily let your head fall to the right, your burning eyes only just opened. And through the tiny slits of your eyes, you could just make out the black digits on the clock.
You groaned, trying to calculate how much time you had before you had to hit the road. You were confident that packing was going to take about two hours since your mother had specific expectations on what to bring. And, you knew that she’d want you there at around six to give the impression that you were there the whole time, and that they were the perfect family. Also, the car ride was about three hour long. So, that meant you could spare about an hour to sleep.
However, you did have to shower and look presentable. So, that added another one hour; the hour that was spared for sleep.
You let out another loud groan, letting your face fall into a pillow. After another scream or two, you removed your face from the pillow and made your way upstairs to your room. You got changed into something more comfortable, and began packing for the reunion from hell.
To say you were basically in tears when you finally had your two fully packed duffel bags, would be quite accurate. You picked them up, and threw them beside the front door, ready to be transferred to the car.
You ran back upstairs and hopped into the shower. Once done, you quickly got dressed in a light blue sweater, a tight black skirt, some sheer tights, and long black socks that stopped just below your knees. You dried your hair thoroughly, and pulled it back into a high ponytail. You glanced at the clock as you began to apply just bit of makeup to satisfy your mother. In your mind, the less you got yelled at, the better.
The clock read 3:15 AM
You were right on schedule. After finishing your makeup, you rushed downstairs and prepared some coffee. If you were going to be driving for the next three hours, you needed your energy. As the coffee brewed, you pulled on your long black boots, and grey jacket. You made your way back to the kitchen and poured the coffee into a to go cup. Holding the cup with your mouth, you wrapped a soft, black scarf around your neck and tucked your hands in some warm gloves. You quickly grabbed your keys and bags, and made your way to your car.
After settling in, you started the car. It took a while, but it finally started idling. Ignoring it’s little spam attack, you backed out of your driveway, and drove down the snow covered, rumble streets and onto the main road.
Sker. Sker. Sker. Your car splurted as you drove by the diner. It kept stopping, then going. It continued to pause, until it reached the traffic light where it just shut down all together.
“Fuck!” you cursed, slamming your hands on the wheel. You took the key out of the ignition, then tried starting it again, however, it wouldn’t work.
You sighed in defeat looking down the empty road. Then, it caught your eye.
In an instant, you jumped out of your car, and ran down the icy road to the shop. And even though all the lights were turned off, you pounded your fist repeatedly on the door. “Dean! Dean!” you yelled.
The light of the foyer switched on after a few more shouts, and the door flew open. There, in his boxers, a t-shirt, and a pair of plain black slippers, was Dean. His hair was sticking up in all directions, and his face held a look of anger and distress. “Do you have a death wish?” he mumbled, his voice groggy with sleep.
“Dean, I need your help!” you yelled. “My crappy car broke down, and my mother is crazy, and if I’m not there by six she will definitely kill me.”
“I’m about to kill you.” Dean replied.
You sighed and grabbed his arm, tugging on it. “Please, please, please, Dean!” you begged with each tugged. “I’ll give you free meals for a week, and coffee. Free meals and coffee for a week. Just please, please help me.”
Dean glared at you for a moment before deeply sighing. “Two weeks.” he bargained.
Smiling widely, you let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” she laughed, pulling him out of his home and towards the car.
Dean let out a few whoas, and stops as he ran through the ice covered road. When you made it to your car, you let go of him. “It won’t start.”
Dean sent you a deadly glare as you turned to face him. “What?” you asked.
“You couldn’t let me change, or at least grab my jacket?” he snapped, wrapping his arms around himself. And though he was mad and his front door remained wide open, he still made his way to the hood of your car and popped it open.
A cluster of smoke rose up immediately. Dean coughed, and took a step back as he waved it away. “Got a flashlight?” he asked, his voice rough from the heavy smoke.
Covering your mouth with your scarf to ward off the fumes, you handed him your phone with your flashlight turned on. “Here,” your muffled voice said.
Dean brought his shirt over his nose as he took the phone from your hands. He then, without any hesitation, reentered the thick mist and looked through it. After fiddling here and there, he exited the smoke with his eyes watery.
Bring down his shirt, he handed the phone back to you and let out a few coughs. “You aren’t going anywhere tonight.” he informed as he shut the hood.
You shoved your phone back into your pocket as you joked, “Dean, now is not the time to make a pass at me.”
Dean turned, and gave you another hard glare. “You’re car is busted. Half of it is basically duck tape! Did you just think it would hold everything forever?”
“It’s what I had at the time.” you defended. “Look, I have somewhere to be and if I’m not there my mother-”
“Is going to kill you.” Dean finished. “Yeah, I know. I heard the speech.”
You sighed taking a step closer to him. “Please, please, please, Dean!” you pleaded hold your hands together over your chest. “Just think about the twenty hour long lectures that will soon follow my death and carry on in my afterlife.”
“(Y/-” he started but you quickly cut him off, continuing your rant.
“Look, I won’t bother you in the afterlife! I’ll leave you alone. That’s if you believe in afterlives. I don’t really. Actually, I’m not sure which is real or what to believe. But, if there is an afterlife, I’ll leave you alone in it. And I’ll leave you alone in Hell too. Because, let’s face it, you’re kind of-”
Dean cut your rant short. “Finish that sentence, and you’ll make it to your afterlife sooner.” he threatened.
You let out another sigh. “So, there’s no way you can fix it in, say, five minutes?”
Dean, with a sad smile playing on his lips, shook his head. “I won’t even be able to fix it in two days.” he replied.
Hanging your head low, you groaned and pulled out your phone. “I have a call to make, you start pushing the car.”
Dean gave you a questioning look. “Pushing the car? (Y/N), I have a tru-”
You interjected with a stern look on your face. “Now, Dean!”
As he made his way to the back of the car, you heard him grumbling under his breath. Ignoring it, you dialed your old house phone.
It rang and rang and rang, until finally someone picked up. “Hello?” your mother’s tired voice answered.
“Hi, mom. I’m sorry to call this late. I was just on my way to the house when my car broke down. I can’t come. I’m so sorry.” your voice was nothing but sincere as you explained the details of the situation.
Your mother went quiet for a moment, and you were beginning to think she might have dosed back off to sleep. “You’re lying.” she finally replied.
“You’re lying. Your car didn’t break down. You just don’t want to come.” she expanded. “I can’t believe you hate us so much, you won’t even come to your grandfather’s birthday!”
Your eyes widened at her far fetched assumption. “Mom, I swear! The car is a deadbeat! It won’t start!” you repeated, your voice rising with every word.
“How dare you?! You are the most ungrateful, self-centred per-”
Dean’s voice dragged your attention away from the daunting lecture. “A little help would be nice!” he called as he continued to slowly push the car down the road.
“Who was that?” your mother asked, cutting her speech short. Leave it to your mother to use her bat-like ears and pick out any ‘unusual’ sounds.
You sighed. “That was just Dean, mom.”
“Dean? Is this Dean your boyfriend?” she asked, suddenly all anger in her tone disappearing.
“Well, he has to be. Why else would he be with you at four in the morning if he wasn’t?” she attempted to explain.
With confusion riddle all over your features, you frustratedly replied, “He’s a mechanic, mom! He’s just fixing my ca-”
“So, it’s just a coincidence that your boyfriend is also a mechanic?”
“He’s not my boyfriend!” you shouted, stomping your foot.
You could almost hear the smirk in your mother’s voice as she suggested, “Alright then. Why don’t was just move the party to that town of ours?”
“Do you even know what it’s called?” you challenged.
She scoffed. “Unnatural or something.”
“Supernatural.” you corrected. “And there’s not reason to move an entire party over here! Everyone is coming to your house.”
“I’ll tell them the location is changing right now. And so what if we start the party later, we’ll just extend it to Monday.” she brushed off.
This time you scoffed. “I have work on Monday!” you tired.
“You’ll be there for your shift! Stop trying to get out of this! You are going to this party! It’s been a long time since you even bothered to call, let alone show up for holidays. It’s time to take your place in this family!” she yelled so loud, you had to move the phone away from your ear.
Sighing in defeat, you brought the phone back to your ear and mumbled, “Fine,”
“Great, see you at noon. I expect the best reservations at the best hotel you can find!” she piped before throwing in a good night and hanging up.
You shoved your phone back into your pocket, and looked to Dean. He was about halfway from the store.
Your mother was coming. Your family was coming. And, Dean was suddenly your boyfriend. This was going to be an interesting weekend.
Scan - George’s handwritten lyrics for ‘Dehra-Dun.’ Scanned from Living in the Material World.
The song’s title references a town in India, and was written by George during The Beatles’ stay in Rishikesh - a snippet can also be heard being performed by George on the ukulele in The Beatles Anthology, taped in June 1994. Apparently, the circulating bootleg version was recorded at Abbey Road by George on 26 May 1970 (according to The British Beatles Fan Club).
“George Harrison gave the perfect example of people’s tendency to allow the mundane to take priority in life. He used the metaphor of ‘beggars in a goldmine’ to describe how human beings are so caught up in their existence that they fail to notice their inner richness. George recalled our sojourn in India and the number of people who dashed off to shop and flit about. He found it amusing that at the ashram, through meditation and stillness, they could find everything they needed, yet still they looked elsewhere: ‘Although we have this divinity, or creativity, within us, it is covered with material energy, and a lot of the time our actions come from a mundane level. There is an expression “beggars in a goldmine”, and that’s what we are. We’re like beggars in the goldmine, where everything has really enormous potential and perfection, but we’re all so ignorant with the dust of desire on our mirrors. While we were in Rishikesh, I wrote a song called “Deradune”. I never recorded the song, but it was about seeing people going along the road trying to head for this place called Deradune. Everyone was trying to go there for their day off from the meditation camp. I couldn’t see any point in going to this town; I’d gone all the way to Rishikesh to be in meditation and I didn’t want to go shopping for eggs in Deradune! The verse of the song said, “See them move along the road/ In search of life divine/ Unaware it’s all around them/ Beggars in a goldmine”.’” - It’s Not Only Rock ‘n’ Roll - Iconic Musicians Reveal The Source Of Their Creativity by Dr. Jenny Boyd & Holly George-Warren [x]