knotted chair

Make a choice Dean Part Two

A/N: You asked for it. Sorry if it turned to crap halfway through. I got pissed off & lost the motivation to write.

Warnings: Angst.

Make a choice Dean Part One

Dean x Sister!Reader   Sam x Sister!Reader

Originally posted by devoiddean

Originally posted by spn-mostly

“You are my little sister. I promise you, you’ll never get hurt when you’re around me. My dream, it’ll never happen.”

“We’ll talk about this later Dean.” You said angrily, you didn’t want his apologies, you didn’t want anything, you just wanted to put as much space between you and Dean as possible.

So you did.

Three Months Later….

When you came into consciousness you couldn’t ignore the pounding that was going on in your head. You’d had headaches before, but never one like this. Slowly opening your eyes you realized it was hard to crack one of your eyelids opened, it was as if it was glued together. Feeling something dripping down your face towards your eye, you tried to move your hand to stop it, however you couldn’t move your hands. Looking down you saw that you were restrained to a chair as blood was slowly dripping from your head. You glanced around to take in your surroundings, however you felt your breath hitch when you saw Sam sitting next to you, fighting his restraints as he was also tied down to his chair. A knot in your stomach instantly formed as you slowly turned your stare towards what was in front of you.

Just as you thought, Dean was standing there pale as a ghost. He nimbly held his gun at his side as he started at the ground while what you assumed was a demon stood behind him.

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Mother's peril

A/n: requested by moonlightonroses for the dialogue prompts.
#1: “We will break you.” With Batmom

This was all Two-face’s fault. He had robbed a bank a few weeks ago and you had unfortunately been one of the hostages.

When your husband had saved you, he had given you a kiss on the forehead and had gone back to help your sons. Neither of you had known that a reporter had seen you two.

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Take this biting ache

I am a rabid creature

Repressed I’m bleeding

Apathy from wounded hands

And I want to want

To want

To want


Fragile piece of broken mouth

Curving lips that never know

What to say, I am not a creature

Of comfort, I’m the noose

Double knotted, swinging.

I’m the chair that is breaking

I am the foot that is kicking

I am a monster.


Requested by Anonymous(edited)

You and Caliban were tied up in front of each other. Laura and Logan managed to escape but you and Caliban were caught by Donald and his goons. Caliban’s had a few cuts and bruises but he wasn’t letting out where they were going. When Donald did get what he wanted he tried taking it out on you, he knew you were Caliban’s Kryptonite. You were confronted by Donald who came from behind you. He started gliding his hands on your arm catching Caliban’s attention. 

“You have such beautiful skin y/n” Caliban saw you struggle to leave his grasp. Caliban didn’t want to see you get hurt. Donald grabbed your hair pushing your head back kissing you. Caliban couldn’t take it anymore, he knew you were being tortured. 

“Stop! Ok fine ill tell you where there are just please leave them alone”


When Caliban told Donald where Logan and Laura was he brought you back into the room. 

“Y/n are you ok?” You looked up seeing the bruise in his eye swell up 

“I’m fine Caliban, thank you for telling them”

“I know I shouldn’t have but I didn't want you to get hurt”You smiled knowing you really had him fooled. Donald came into the room walking behind you giving you kisses on the neck. “Stop I told you where they were”

“They want it”You smiled giving Donald a kiss on the lips. Donald untied the knots from the chair letting you go. You wrapped your arms around his shoulder kissing him again. Caliban didn't understand what was going on. 

“Thank you, Caliban for telling us where Logan and Laura are we’re very glad” You left the room leaving Caliban In shock.

“y/n? Y/N!”

Requests Are Open!

Junior's First Dance.

I walked along the corridor of the building, clutching my small bag that was tucked under my arm as I smiled at the familiar and unfamiliar faces that were nearby either making their way inside of the building as well or stopping to chat to those who were arriving. I wanted to just escape the cool air that was more than present as my dress only dropped to my knees.

I’d hop on my stylist for it later.

I entered the venue and immediately began to relax to the low volume of serene music emitting from the speakers. It was a Saturday night and all I really wanted was to be trapped under the blankets of my bed watching old movies but with my job as a professional model, I had to find time for events like these. They were in my contracts. And aside from that, it wouldn’t be too bad of a night even though I was unfortunately arriving alone.

Ah, the single life. Beautiful isn’t it?

I strutted forward, looking around the room that was decorated with various round tables and intricate designs. There was also a small area that I seemed to recognize as a dance floor for whoever dared embarrass themselves out there for all to see. I would probably be one of them knowing how I was.

“Y/N?” I heard a strange voice call my name and spun around, meeting a young woman with a headset and a clipboard tucked under her arm. I assumed she was someone who worked here. “Hi. You’re at table 7.” She pointed off into the short distance to one of the round tables nearby.

“Thank you.” I gave her a polite smile and continued to walk off to the table. I must have arrived earlier than I thought because I was the only person now seated at the table.

I knew how to work a room so I had no fear of approaching strangers but right now, the small palette of fruit on the table was too good to pass up. I took one of the plump strawberries into my fingers and carefully bit into it, trying to avoid any wardrobe disaster that may occur because of my messiness.

There was a bit of commotion as loud claps began to ring out. I turned in my chair, trying to find the source of excitement and there he was. Mr. Cristiano Ronaldo himself with all eyes on him and a small figure who I assumed to be his son clinging to his hand amidst the crowd of people congratulating him for one of his many achievements, this one being the recent win of the Ballon d’Or.

I turned back in my seat and returned to my strawberries only to be approached a moment later as the shadow of someone behind my chair loomed over me. Looking over my shoulder, I noticed Cristiano smiling my way. “Hello,” he uttered politely before pulling out a chair a few down from me at the table.

“Hi.” His son immediately plopped comfortably into the chair while his father held out his hand in my direction. “I’m Cristiano.”

“I’m Y/N.” I held out my hand as he shook it gingerly. “I know.” A smirk curled his lips and I immediately cocked my head with curiosity. “Oh really?”

He nodded and chuckled. “Yes.” His eyes drifted to his son in the chair, playfully knotting his hair between his fingers. “My son has a huge crush on you. Junior, introduce yourself.” The small boy immediately shied away from my smiling gaze, instead focusing down on his hands in his lap.

“Awww, hi. It’s nice to meet you.” I leaned forward in my seat to greet him with a smile which he returned with a small one. Cristiano chuckled above us. “He’s a bit shy. He’ll warm up to you eventually.” He took a seat next to his son, leaving the seat between me and Junior open.

“Aw that’s too bad because I’m going to need a dancing partner for tonight.” The child immediately widened his grin and looked up to me, causing me to smile as well. Gah, kids are so adorable. “Would you dance with me?” I held out my hand to him and he enthusiastically nodded, placing his small hand into mine so I could lead the way.

“You don’t mind, do you?” I turned my attention from Cristiano Junior to his father who immediately shook his head, a proud grin on his face. “Not at all, Y/N. Not at all. Have fun.”

I got up from my seat and led the way to the dance floor where Cristianinho and I would dance, all eyes now on us as everyone watched the pair of the night.

BSD Novel: Dazai Osamu and the Dark Era (Chapter 2, Part 8)

I was hoping to post the last part in one go but alas it’s worth nearly two parts so please have the second last instalment of this chapter for now! Much thanks to @nakaharachuyaa @mlntyoonqi and @bananasaurr for their proofreading work!!

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The Afterward: A Story About Chairs

TITLE: The Afterward: A Story About Chairs


RATING: T, language, dark themes.

GENRE(S): Lokane

SUMMARY: Vengeance. And afterward, this cell. 

NOTES/WARNINGS: Written for Grissyas a part of the Starfrost Exchange on AO3.

Thanks to thereallimegreenandloki on Tumblr for beta reading this for me! Any mistakes are my own.

To Grissy, I hope you like my humble offering for a darker Loki, a darker Jane, and a darker (almost) romance.


Vengeance. And afterward, this cell.


Loki sits in a chair. It wobbles something fierce since he sent it careening across his cell into the walls that provided no privacy for his grief.

(The first time he was locked in this cell.)

He has to sit still as the dead to keep it from rocking.

But stolen relics don’t move much in their displays.


Jane sits in a chair. Years of perching on lab stools have her seated near its edge, doctoral posture unconsciously curving her spine into something less than comfortable. The chair is as large and inviting as her boyfriend-cum-prince’s arms, swathed in the same opulent scarlet.

And as with Thor, she can’t relax into its comfort.

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A Very Supernatural Christmas - Part 3

Word Count: 3403

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Language

Series Rewrite Masterlist

“Oh god, not more Christmas music.” You groaned as you woke up, finding yourself tied to a chair facing the wall. You blinked a few times, adjusting to the light and took in your situation. The boys were tied back to back in two separate chairs while you were tied beside them in your own chair, your ropes wrapped in all sorts of knots around their chairs to secure you. You felt Sam moving behind you and turned your head to face him. “Sammy?”

“Yeah.” He cracked his neck. “I’m good. You ok?”

“If by ok you mean not dead then yeah.” You turned to look at Dean who was still unconscious. “Dean?” Hearing his name seemed to bring him around. You heard him groan and felt his head move back, resting against yours. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah.” He said with a raspy voice.

“Ooh!” Madge walked in with Mr. Carrigan wearing Christmas sweaters. “And here we thought you two lazybones were gonna sleep straight through all the fun stuff!” She giggled in glee.

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Something More

Summary: When Natsu accidentally cuts off a chunk of Lucy’s blond hair, he finds in the girl something much more than he ever bargained for: love. Nalu One-Shot.


 The story of Lucy Heartfilia and Natsu Dragneel was not an easy one.

 It wasn’t one straight from the movies, where their eyes met across from the room and they instantly fell into this great, miraculous love that made them see stars as they spiraled up into the happiest, most perfect relationship that they’d ever known. In fact, if you looked at it, their relationship was actually the most difficult obstacle they’d ever had to overcome in life.

 And it had all started with a strand of hair.

 In the first semester of their senior year, Lucy was the new girl of Fairy Tail High. She had blond hair that travelled down the curves of slender arms to tickle at her elbows, and always wore shirts with a neckline just an inch too low to be considered modest, revealing swatches of creamy, pale skin that always flushed red whenever she was the tiniest bit worked up. She sat right by one of the many open windows in the classroom, and right next to Natsu’s sworn enemy, Gajeel Redfox. Though the pair had been slightly awkward and standoffish towards each other at first, Natsu had watched from his seat behind them as Lucy and Gajeel gradually blossomed into a kindred friendship.

 Every day, Natsu would lean back in his chair, hands knotted behind his head, and would watch the hulking piece of meat that was Gajeel make the prettiest smile light up her big, brown eyes. Often, Gajeel would lean over and sneer something that would make Lucy throw her head backward with laughter. The sound would always grate at Natsu’s ears—it was loud, bouncy, and ungraceful in all senses of the word. After hearing it so many times in the first month of school, Natsu felt ready to smack to his head against the table if he heard it again.

 So when he saw the familiar, telltale smirk that crept up one side of Gajeels face as it usually did right before he was about to tell a joke, Natsu was quick to intervene. Thrusting his hand around in his backpack, he produced a pair of scissors and leaned forward in his seat so that his stomach was pressed against the wood of his desk and his face was right behind Gajeel’s.

 “Oi, metal face,” Natsu lazily called, twirling the scissors around one finger.

 Scowling, Gajeel turned around in his seat. His piercings were glinting in the sunlight streaming in. “What the hell do you want, flame breath?”

 “I wonder what ya would look like with short hair.”

 “The fu—“

 Before Gajeel could get the words out, Natsu lunged forward with a manic grin spreading across his face, snipping the scissors about Gajeel’s head wildly. Gajeel shouted obscenities and kept punching at Natsu in between making sure his precious, black mane remained intact.

 And then it happened.

 In a particular case of bad timing that would soon become characteristic of Lucy and Natsu’s relationship, a strong gust of wind blew through the open window Lucy sat beside. Her long, golden locks that were always grabbing Natsu’s attention during boring lessons fluttered up with the wind just as Gajeel pushed away Natsu’s hand, just as Natsu had snipped the scissors closed.

 There was a muffed crunch, and then blond strands were floating to the floor, shimmering in the sunlight like they always did, all the way down. In all the chaos, Natsu had managed to cut a rather large section of Lucy’s hair so that it tickled her chin instead of her elbow. She grasped the newly-shortened strands with trembling fingers and pulled them forward to stare at them with those wide brown eyes that always seemed so happy to Natsu.

 Now they were murderous.

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dream a little bigger, darling

an: Part Two of my accidental Arrow/ CS crossover. I’m not even sorry for the way I end this one. All titles are from “Inception” because I have a Nolan thing. Part One can be found here: xxx

“I’ll tell you a riddle. You’re waiting for a train, a train that will take you far away. You know where you hope this train will take you, but you don’t know for sure. But it doesn’t matter. How can it not matter to you where that train will take you?

Because you’ll be together.”


an idea

His lair is better than hers.

For some reason that irks her. It’s not exactly surprising - where her family had been millionaires, his had been billionaires, and Killian has never worked a day in his life - he’s had plenty of extra time to devote to toys and trinkets, overlarge networks and -

“Is that a grenade launcher?”

He scoffs, glaring at the thing like it personally offends him. “Yes, very discreet, wouldn’t you say?”

“Then why do you have it?”

“I have unlimited sources of income and a penchant for impulse buys. It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

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Best Of Your Life

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Word Count: 2235

Warnings: Grief, some language, major fluff

Requested by anon: I know this is late notice, but I just found your blog( I really enjoy ice queen… Like a lot!) and was wondering if I could request a Sam x reader. It’s almost Father’s Day and the reader lost her dad to a hunting accident when she was younger, and Sam helps her deal with it. Then the reader has an idea and celebrates with Bobby since he was kinda like her surrogate father. It’d mean a lot! You’re an amazing writer!

A/N: So this one kinda just wrote itself.  Thanks for the great request anon! I’m sorry if it’s not exactly how you wanted it, but, like I said, this story just kind of…happened. Let me know what you think!

Your name: submit What is this?

The moment you opened your eyes, you knew it was going to be a bad day.

And you knew it was going to be a truly terrible day when you reached across the bed, searching for your boyfriend, Sam, and your fingers found nothing but cold, empty bedsheets.

You sighed and glanced at the alarm clock. 6:23 a.m. Exactly seven minutes before your alarm would go off. You rubbed your face with your hands, feeling pressure building up behind your eyes. At this rate, this day would end up being the worst of your life. Even the small things were going wrong.

Okay, so maybe not the worst day of your life. The day your father had been murdered by a demon took the cake in that category.  But this would probably be a close second.  

Today would have been your father’s 50th birthday.  To make matters worse, tomorrow was Father’s Day.  You still missed him like crazy and the way your chest tightened painfully when you thought of him let you know that empty ache wasn’t going away anytime soon.  

The one person who was able to ease the sadness had surprisingly disappeared the very moment you needed him most–right now.  

You had met Sam years ago, while you were living with Bobby after your father died.  The tough old hunter had taken you in as his own and raised you.  He did a damn good job too.  He and your father were hunting buddies and he would regularly remind you of how great your parents had been.  

“Your mama, she was a beauty.  Helluva hunter too.  When your dad first met her, I swear, he was gonna do anything to take her on a date. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Most loyal man I’ve ever met, your father.  Woulda sold his soul for ya, and that ain’t an exaggeration.”

“Got married real young, those two.  Knew they were in it for the long haul after only a month of seeing them together.  There ain’t a finer pair anywhere. Damn shame she got sick.”  

The way Bobby talked about them made you so proud to be their daughter. But it made you even prouder to be Bobby’s adopted daughter.  He’d saved you, there was no doubt about that.  Even though you were so grateful to him, you couldn’t help but wonder how your life would have been different if that stupid demon hadn’t come along.  

You remember your father nearly always smiling, always laughing.  Always cracking jokes to make you laugh.  But your favorite memory of him was the time he had taught you how to shoot a gun.  

“Hold it up, now, girl.  Just a little higher now.  Right there.  Now be ready for the kick.”  He was an extremely patient man too and when the butt of the gun hit you square in the nose, he took you into the house and wiped the blood and tears from your face with gentle, calloused hands, making faces the whole time to get you to laugh.

Sam seemed to have that same light within him.  He loved so completely and passionately.  But it was that ray of hope within him that never got snuffed out, no matter how much he went through, that made you fall in love with him.  

You had hoped that flame would be there when you woke up to ease you into the day ahead of you.  

You sighed again, rolling over and wishing you could fall back asleep, but knowing it was impossible.  You closed your eyes briefly anyway.  

The next thing you knew, two strong hands were snaking their way around your waist as a set of smooth lips pressed against your forehead.  

“Babe,” came his whisper, his breath tickled your ear.  In your half-asleep state, you considered twisting out of his grip to show your hurt about earlier, but decided against it.  Instead you snuggled closer to his chest.  The feeling of being in his arms was just too good.  

“Hmm?” you murmured, keeping your eyes closed.  

“Time to get up, sleepyhead,” said Sam, still in a quiet husky whisper.  You opened your eyes and looked at him.  He was looking back at you, a small smile curving his lips. “Have I ever told you how cute you are when you wake up?”  

You looked down, rolled out of his embrace, and sat up.  His smile was replaced with a frown, confusion drawing lines on his forehead.  

“Y/N?”  he said, sitting up with you and reaching for your hand.  “What’s wrong?”

“Sam…” you began, trying to find the courage to say what was on your mind. “Why weren’t you here this morning when I woke up earlier?  I really needed you.  You know how tough this day is for me.  Are you not going to be there tomorrow either?”  You felt so vulnerable, admitting this weakness and your need for him, but you had to say it.  

Sam studied you for a moment, rubbing his thumb in soothing circles on the back of your hand.  

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he said finally, “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here.  I was planning to, but the pancakes were taking longer than I thought they would and I didn’t want to come back in here with half a breakfast tray.”

“What?” you asked.  Now it was your turn to be confused.  

“I made you breakfast,” Sam answered, smiling slightly, he turned and pointed behind him, where you could see a tray laden with pancakes, bacon, eggs, and fruit on the nightstand.  “I also had to pick these.” He reached down beside the bed and picked up a large vase filled with a beautiful assortment of wildflowers. “There’s not a decent florist any where near here, so I had to pick these out in the woods.  I should have done it yesterday, but I wanted them to be as fresh as possible.”  

You stared at him, dumbfounded, for a few seconds.  And then, the tears finally spilled over.  Sam set down the flowers and wrapped his arms around you again.  

“Shh,” he murmured. “’s okay.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” you sobbed.  “I’m such an idiot, I–”

“No, you’re not,” Sam assured you.  He pulled back a bit so he could look into your eyes.  “Have a little faith in me, babe.  I wasn’t gonna mess this up.  Not for my girl.”  You laughed and reached up to kiss him, throwing your arms around his neck.  His lips were gentle and soft on yours and you could feel his affection for you in his touch.  This man cared so much for you.  You felt stupid for ever doubting him.  

“What would I do without you?” you said after you’d pulled away, studying his beautiful face.  He just laughed and touched his lips to yours again.


For a day that was sure to be one of the worst days of your life, it actually turned out to be one of the best.  Sam had the whole day planned and somehow convinced Dean to stay away from the bunker the entire day, so that you and Sam had it all to yourselves.  

You had cuddled on the couch, flipping through old photo albums, and you had cooked lunch together (you barely helped, Sam was such a good cook).  He listened when you wanted to talk about your father and he didn’t ask questions when you didn’t.  Later, you went on a walk together, your entwined hands swinging between you, only to find the bunker filled with candles, the smell of your favorite dish cooking the oven, and a new red dress and heels on your bed when you returned home at dusk.

You had asked Sam how he had managed do all this in one day, but he merely shrugged, smiling, and said, “Now, go get dressed for our date.”  

An hour later you had slipped into the red dress and heels, curled your hair, and swiped some makeup across your eyelids and lips.  You found Sam in the kitchen, his back to you as he worked on the salad.  The heels clicked as you made your way across the tile, but he didn’t look up.  You wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your cheek on his broad back.  

He lifted one of your hands and kissed it before spinning around to face you. You watched his eyes take you in, pleased at his astonished reaction.  You pulled his hand above your head and spun, giving him the full view.  

“Good choice on the outfit,” you said when he still didn’t say anything.  

“I’ll say,” Sam finally answered breathlessly.  “Y/N, you look…stunning.”  

“You don’t look so bad yourself, handsome,” you answered, smiling broadly, reaching up to kiss his cheek.  He looked incredible, as usual, in a black suit and tie. But, then again, Sam Winchester could make a trash bag look amazing. You noticed the suit wasn’t the one he usually wore for cases.  “New suit?”

“Yeah,” Sam smiled. “Hey, I enjoy new clothes sometimes too.”  He added in a mock defensive tone.  You chuckled, picking up the salad he had just finished making.  Sam grabbed a bottle of wine from the fridge and led you to the table, pulling out your chair for you before he sat down across from you.

The food was fantastic and the conversation even better.  You were overwhelmed by how fortunate you were to have met the man in front of you.

“I’m so glad I met you,” you said as Sam finished the last sip of his wine.  “I’m one lucky girl.” Sam grinned and laughed.  

“I think I’m the lucky one.  Thank God for Bobby, right?” Sam leaned back in his chair and knotted his fingers together, resting them on his belly, watching you intently.  “Without him taking you in, we might never have met.”  He paused, seeming to realize what he said.  “I’m sorry, I don’t mean I’m glad about your dad, just that…I, I mean–” He seemed so distressed that you interrupted.  

“No, Sam, it’s okay, I understand.” You gave him a little smile, which he returned.  “Damn, I miss him.  But that doesn’t mean I regret living with Bobby. Or meeting you.”  

“I know,” Sam nodded.  “I wish I could have met him though. He sounds like a great man.”  

“He was.” you replied.  “I know he would have loved you.”  Sam reached for your hand across the table and squeezed it, his eyes watching your face and his lips curving in a reassuring smile.   You both sat in silence for a couple of moments.  

Suddenly, Sam stood up and crossed the room to the stereo, turning it on.  As he made his way back to you, slow jazz began playing softly from the speakers lining the room.  He held his hand out to you.  

“Y/N, can I have this dance?”  You laughed because it sounded a little cheesy, but took his hand, setting down your wine glass and letting him lead you to your makeshift dance floor.  

You loved the way his arm felt around your waist, how good it felt to be this close to him, especially now that you were a bit taller in the new heels.  You could actually look into his eyes without craning your neck.  Sam spun you and you giggled at how smooth and easy it felt.  

“You know,” you said, thinking about the earlier conversation.  “We should visit Bobby tomorrow.  Surprise him.  It’s Father’s Day and, well, he’s basically a father to me.”  

“Yeah,” Sam agreed, lips turned up in a smile.  “He’d love that.”  Suddenly, his lips flattened into a line, worry creasing between his eyebrows.  “I think we might have another surprise for him.”  He muttered, so low, you could barely hear.  

“What do you mean?” you asked, frowning at his worry.

“Y/N,” He was talking really fast now, like he wanted to get something out while he still had the courage.  “I…I know this is a terrible day for this and you might really hate me for doing this today of all days…but I can’t wait any longer.”  

“What are you talking about?” Fear boiled in the pit of your stomach as your heart began to pound.  “What in the hell are you saying?”

Sam stopped dancing.  He rifled in his pocket, pulled out a small white box, and sank onto one knee.

You swear your heart stopped for a moment.

“Y/N,  you are the kindest, most thoughtful, most loyal, and most patient person I’ve ever met.  From the moment I met you, my entire life has been changed for the better.  You’re my everything, babe, and I love you.  So much.  I want to spend the rest of my life proving that to you, if you’ll let me.”  He took a deep breath and smiled widely.  “Y/N, will you marry me?”  

This man, this incredible, beautiful man…he could be all yours, forever?  

“Y-yes,” you stuttered, tears forming in your eyes.  “A thousand times, yes.”  


You would never forget the expression on Bobby’s face when you told him.  He looked between the both of you, shook his head, and said, in his rough, gravelly voice,  “Well, it’s about time, ya idjits.”  

Yes, it was true, the past 24 hours had been the best of your life.