the second celebration of the four

  • Allura: Humans are probably one of the shortest lived species I have ever encountered in my travels. It's inspiring how much life you all manage to live in such a short amount of time.
  • Pidge: Do you think the discrepancy in age has to do with how our species measure time differently? A tick is shorter than a second.
  • Keith: I mean, time is essentially meaningless. It's just a label people ascribe to something they will never fully comprehend.
  • Hunk: Dude. That's heavy.
  • Shiro: Guys... How old are you, Allura?
  • Coran: Well, discounting the 10,000 years we both spent asleep, the princess celebrated her four hundred and twentieth birthday right before Zarkon invaded!
  • Everyone:
  • Hunk: No. Way.
  • Coran: Is... There a problem?
  • Lance: Everyone shut up, I need a moment to process this.
4

Gosh, been a while since I’ve posted Art art here, eh? To celebrate finally having my hands on a screen which displays trustworthy colors, SOME BIRBS.

These are based on my doodles for Inktober, which themselves are based on Farid Ud-Din Attar’s Conference of the Birds, a long allegorical epic poem about birds getting over their stupid problems so they can go meet the bird king. 

I might do some second passes on some of the other birds I drew (so many birds) but I’m pretty happy with these four.

Calum Hood Imagine

*Imagine Cal says something that unintentionally hurts you and Ash notices and comforts you and Cal gets jealous until Ash tells Cal what happened. 

“You going tonight Y/N?” Ashton asks. The boys’ were throwing a party at a local club to celebrate the success of their second tour and hundreds of people would be there. The idea of a crowded club with hundreds of people made you sick to your stomach; you had always struggled with anxiety but you wanted to be there for the four of them.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded your head hesitantly.

“The boys will be so happy to see you!” Ash cheered, grabbing his keys off of his kitchen countertop. “Let’s go!”

Keep reading

Sass Queen Pt. 2

Part 1: x

Word count: 646

All your friends are getting drunk on the Pit to celebrate they’re now Dauntless members. Unlike them, you brought a single bottle to the Chasm, drinking it while you hear the water rushing down there. It reminds you of the day you were told about what happens when you get too old here. You don’t think about this, actually, is hard to think about anything else but Eric.

“I thought you’d celebrate. Second place is something rare for a little girl like you.”

“Goodnight, Dauntless leader.” You happily declare, a smirk on your face. “May I ask what you want?”

“Four came to tell me that if I ask you out, you’d say yes.” He comes to stand beside you, looking down at the water. “I want to know if that’s true.”

“So he did tell you that.” You turn your face to him. “You took too long, don’t you think?”

“It’s forbidden for a Leader to get involved with an initiate.”

“Since when you follow the rules?”

“Since I noticed it tortured you.”

“Tortured me?” Eric is unbelievable. Of course, he just got worse with you, teasing with words and even some touches. You did your best to cover your desire, but now you see it was useless.

“I would invite you to take a drink but I heard you speaking with your friends about walking around the city.”

“I like being outside, feeling the wind touching my skin.” Smiling sensually, you run your fingers through the tattoos on his arm.

“Meet here tomorrow at eight.”

“Maybe.” You leave a soft, slow kiss on the corner of his mouth, swinging our hips while you walk away.


You’re late and you know it. You want to make him wait. When you finally get there, you stop on your tracks. Eric’s holding a single red rose, and he hands it to you when you get closer. The gesture surprises you since Eric is all about being rough and never being romantic. You take the rose, a shy smile on your lips.

“This is unexpected.”

“What?”

“The rose. You’re not…”

“Romantic?” He interrupts you, kissing your cheek. “I’ve heard that you like romantic.”

“I don’t want you to pretend to be something you’re not.”

“I’m not pretending. Just promise me you won’t tell anyone that I’m actually a nice guy.”

“Okay.” Giving another step closer to him, you kiss the corner of his lips. “Let’s go.”


The air is fresh and the soft wind plays with your hair. Eric’s holding your hand while you walk through the empty streets. Is better than you expected. Eric is better than you expected. You’re happy to find the man behind the metal mask he wears everywhere he goes. Right now, he’s not a Leader, he’s just Eric.

“So, sass queen, how’s gonna be your life now?”

“Sass Queen?” You ask, stopping and resting your back against a dark green wall.

“That’s the nickname I gave you.”

“I like it.” Grabbing the collar of his shirt, you pull him to you, so his body is pressed against yours. “Worst part of initiation was to never be allowed to kiss you.”

“Just kiss me?”

“I don’t want to go too fast. I’m romantic, remember? ” You whisper, crushing your lips to his on a passionate kiss. The feeling of his strong, muscular body on yours almost makes you forget about the romantic thing.

“If you want slow, we’ll go slow. Apparently, you’re the queen here.”

“I’ll be the queen and you’ll be the king.” With a smile on your face, you jump in his arms, and Eric quickly picks you up bridal style. “Now my King can carry his Queen back home.”

“We’re perfect for each other.” He slowly walks back to the Dauntless compound, a laugh escaping his lips.

“I know it very well, handsome man.”

“Of course you do, sexy woman.”



Junjou Romantica Age

Whenever I think about it, it realy bothers me. How old is the Egoist, Terrorist and Mistake couple in actual? 


So, since I will follow our main-main couple’s timeline, Misaki is 22 and Usagi is probably 32.  

Hiroki is at the same age as Usagi so he is probably 32 also. Nowaki is four years younger than Hiroki so he is probably 28. (BTW, Nowaki was 17 years old when he started dating Hiroki so they are already dating for 10+ years making them the second couple to reach 10 years of dating, the first being the Mistake couple AND OMFG I FUCKING WANT TO CELEBRATE THAT ANNIVERSARY). 

Hiroki mentioned (In the Egoist timeline) before during the break-up chapter I think that he and Nowaki had been dating for six years, making him about 27 years old.

Miyagi was 35 years old when he was introduced by Hiroki. So, they had a 8 or 9 years age gap damn Miyagi is old but I’m going to stick with 8 years.

Miyagi was 35 years old when he met Shinobu who was 18. If I follow the Romantica couples timeline, Usagi is 32, so Miyagi is already 40, Shinobu, who is 17 years younger is already 23. So we basically have a Grandpa Miyagi

Lastly, Haruhiko and Usagi are about 2 years apart if my memory is right, so being childhood friends with Haruhiko, Ryuuichiro might be 34 years old, or maybe older since he was already an editor when he scouted Usagi and Usagi was wearing a highschool uniform (I forgot if he was wearing the same in the manga).

If Ryuuichiro was older than that, then he might have about 6 years age gap with Usagi, he might also be 38, Asahina is a year older than Ryuuichiro making him either 35 or 39-40.


In conclusion, figuring out how to blend this timeline will destroy your brain Misaki and Shinobu might be around the same age holy shit. 

Let me ruin it more for you. Yukina is also a college student, 4th year, SO HE MIGHT BE IN THE SAME AGE AS FUCKING MISAKI AND SHINOBU. 

- BY A FANGIRL TYPING IN THE DARK AND TOOOOO MUCH TIME IN HER HANDS

2

Romance has served as the foundation for some of film history’s most significant partnerships. Over at the Criterion Channel, we’re celebrating couples who shared a chemistry both on-screen and in real life with Creative Marriages, a series of double bills that launched back in November with a spotlight on Federico Fellini and his longtime muse and wife, Giulietta Masina. Tomorrow, our second installment presents the work of French filmmaker Roger Vadim and actor Brigitte Bardot, who were married between 1952 and 1957, and whose professional collaboration included four films on which he served as writer and director and three that he cowrote. Their breakthrough, Vadim’s boldly erotic debut feature, And God Created Woman (1956), catapulted both to international fame.

On the Channel: Vadim and Bardot’s Creative Marriage

One Last Dance

Bones invites one lucky girl out on to the dance floor and their undeniable attraction carries them behind closed doors.

Warnings: unprotected sex. an overwhelming sexy doctor ;)

Masterlist

The delicate curves of the black mask coiled over her cheekbones and met the sharp points of her eyeliner. The gleam dancing down from the stars mingled with the torchlight cast from the perimeter of the dance floor casting a fantastic glow on her classmates. An ancient tradition, one some students of the Academy scoffed at, but she would have not missed this evening to celebrate their graduation for all of space. Four years had been spent with her nose pressed so close to study materials, she feared it would be permanently indented and her eyes crossed to show for her hard work.

Instead, she found herself clad in an elegant satin dress that wrapped around her body like a second skin, flaring only where it met her knees and angling up just slightly towards the front to display the glass heels adorning her feet. It was a far cry from the uniform blue she donned daily.

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Bonfire Night - Tom Holland

Summary- You hate fireworks, and when everything goes wrong he’s your knight in shining armour.

AN- Love writing on here at the minute so send me any ideas for Marvel characters in the link down below

Send in requests

Originally posted by pink-puddin

Fireworks scared you.

You had no idea why or where the fear came from, but the whole concept of rockets being flown into the air, and then exploding you made you anxious. Understandably.

Of course, bonfire night didn’t help that fear. You knew the second you woke up on November 5th that fireworks would all you’d be able to hear from four-o’clock onwards.

You never understood why the English celebrated bonfire night. It was literally a holiday celebrating the fact some person named Guy Fawkes, tried to blow up Parliament, and kill the King a couple hundred years ago.

But it gave people an excuse to set fire to stuff.

You knew when you got invited round to a friends for a party, that there would be fireworks, much to your dismay. She’d promised you that you could stay inside, then you would be sure nothing was going to happen.

Yet, here you were wearing some flimsy checkered top, outside waiting for the fireworks to go off. You were also at the front of the crowd, which really wasn’t helping.

It started off well, all the fireworks going off successfully, making the sky an array of colours which you couldn’t but be in awe of.

Then the rockets started to go off, not your least favourite but a very close second. The noise the rockets made, made you practically jump out of your skin, even though you knew it was coming.

Then the squealers came. The fireworks were very pretty you had to admit, but the sound set your teeth on edge, reminding you of an animal in pain and giving you an enormous headache.

That was when you’d had enough.

You turned around, to try and push your way through the crowd and back to the house, but you couldn’t. Everyone was so emerged in the explosives, that they didn’t notice you.

Until a table tipped over, one that was holding a firework about to go off, then all eyes turned to you, and because your back was turned, you didn’t see the firework aiming towards you in particular.

People started to sprint away too quickly for your brain to comprehend.

It was only when some guy tackled you to the ground that you realised what was going on, as you saw the rocket whizz past the pair of you.

Looking up at your saviour, you were met with chocolate brown eyes already looking at you.

“I’m Tom.”

He chuckled, not moving from in between your legs.

“Y/N,”

You laughed also, seeing everyone walk back to the house, not giving you two a second glance.

“Did you have to tackle me to the ground?”

Tom began to move from on top of you, holding his left hand out for you to grab whilst his right moved some hair from his eyes.

“Well, I was either gonna tackle you, or pull you towards me. But then I figured you’d fall on me.” “Is that so bad.”

Contemplating for a moment, Tom held one hand under his chin, as if he was deep in thought.

“I guess not. But if I really was that heavy, then let me make it up to you. How about I take you out.”

You started to walk back, moving away from the garden and leaving Tom behind by himself. 

When you did get to the back door, you turned around and shouted at Tom.

“Meet me at the cafe round the corner at two tomorrow. You’re paying though.”

Picture this

It’s 2008.

My chemical romance are a band, not an idea. It’s been 2 years since The Black Parade was released and they are still on tour. Gerard has recently married Lyn-Z. Next year they will welcome their first baby. Frank and Jamia are celebrating their first wedding anniversary.

Pete Wentz stands on stage making a heart with his hands, whilst the whole crowd reciprocates. They are touring Infinity on High, and will release Folie a Deux before the end of the year. Patrick has sideburns, Pete has black hair and a fringe. He wears eyeliner.

Panic at the disco have just released their second album, “Pretty. Odd.” There are four members in the band; Brendon, Ryan, Jon and Spencer. Their stage sets are adorned with leaves and flowers. The band perform harmoniously. They are happy.

3

“Dreamy Dancing Furisode in the New Year” Limited Gacha

It’s time for the second New Year’s limited gacha. The two new SSRs are Sae Kobayakawa and Yoshino Yorita. These cards will only be available until Jan. 9 @ 2:59 PM JST (12:59 AM EST)

  • SSR [Flower-falling Banquet] Sae Kobayakawa (0.300%)
  • SSR [A Prayer for Celebration] Yoshino Yorita (0.300%)
  • SR [Goddess of Fortune] Kako Takafuji (1.000%)

An additional, not limited SR has been added. All four cards will have raised rates

  • SR [Psychic☆Voice] Yuko Hori (1.000%)

The Asylum and Syfy have commenced principal photography on Sharknado 5 today in Bulgaria. As the shark-infested storm bombards cities around the world, production will take place in more than five countries, including the UK and Australia.

Ian Ziering, Tara Reid, and Cassie Scerbo are confirmed to reprise their starring roles. Per usual, a slew of celebrities are expected to make cameos.

Anthony C. Ferrante, who directed the first four films, is back at the helm. This will mark the first installment in the franchise to not be written by Thunder Levin, with Scotty Mullen (Zoombies) taking over script duties.

Sharknado 5 is just a working title, of course, until a ridiculous subtitle is decided upon. Expected to premiere this summer on Syfy, the film follows Sharknado, Sharknado 2: The Second One, Sharknado 3: Oh Hell Now, and Sharknado: The 4th Awakens.

With much of North America lying in ruins, the rest of the world braces for the inevitable - a global sharknado. Fin Shepard and his family must put a stop to this disaster before Earth is completely obliterated.

And it was at Stratford years later, at the official luncheon to celebrate Shakespeare’s 400th birthday, that I saw a clear example of the difference between what a ritual is and what it could be. It was felt that Shakespeare’s birthday called for a ritual celebration. The only celebration anyone could vaguely remember was related to a feast, and a feast today means a list of people from Who’s Who, assembled around Prince Philip, eating smoked salmon and steak. Ambassadors nodded to one another and passed the ritual red wine. I chatted with a local MP. Then someone made a formal speech, we listened politely - and rose to our feet to toast William Shakespeare. At the moment the glasses clinked - for not more than a fraction of a second, through the common consciousness of everyone present and all for once concentrating on the same thing - passed the notion that four hundred years ago such a man had been, and that this was what we were assembled for. For a breath of time the silence deepened, a touch of meaning was there - an instant later it was brushed away and forgotten. If we understood more about rituals, the ritual celebration of an individual to whom we owe so much might have been intentional, not accidental. It might have been as powerful as all his plays, and as unforgettable. However, we do not know how to celebrate because we do not know what to celebrate. All we know is the end result: we know and we like the feel and sound of celebrating through applause, and this is where we get stuck. We forget that there are two possible climaxes to a theatre experience. There is the climax of celebration in which our participation explodes in stamping and cheering, shouts of hurrah and the roar of hands, or else, at the other end of the stick, the climax of silence - another form of recognition and appreciation for an experience shared. We have largely forgotten silence. It even embarrasses us; we clap our hands mechanically because we do not know what else to do, and we are unaware that silence is also permitted, that silence also is good.
—  Peter Brook, The Empty Space
7

The Hidden Geometry of Flowers - Living Rhythms, Form and Number

Keith Critchlow, 2011

This book like the flowers themselves speaks primarily in the language of images. It also follows a four-layered structure. These can be called points of view. The first looks into the tangible structure of flowers, the second takes account of the social value flowers have for us. The third concerns the symbolic or cultural use of flowers. The fourth celebrates the inspirational effect flowers have on us. All four are integral as well as existing within their own separate contexts.

First published in 2011 by Floris Books © 2011 Keith Critchlow

In celebration of the completion of Circus Baby’s World, I made three celebration images.

The second picture depicts a scrapped FIFTH issue! When I was planning the issues, I made five concept issues, which was then reduced to the four you know. The gimmick for this issue would be inter-dimensional travel, and the idea would be to collaborate with other Sister Location artists, like @alisonwonderland1951 and @ask-thebabybunch, and have their art be the other dimensions! It would have been a fun issue to do, but it was either that or Circus Baby’s Pizza World, and it would have been too hard to introduce Electrobab, Bonnet, and Yenndo in other dimensions. Enjoy this concept cover for Issue 0: Another Time, Another Place!

Stay

Originally posted by myeong-su

Focus: Taehyung

Genre: Angst

Word Count: 1,448

Summary: Taehyung has been away from home for months and he has been drifting further away from you day by day. The doubts you desperately tried to shove in the back of your mind turned out to be the bitter truth all along.



I couldn’t stop replaying the moment over and over again in my head. The moment when everything I knew and loved slipped through my fingertips.

“Goodbye.”

His words stinging me, salt on a freshly cut wound.

We were supposed to celebrate our second year anniversary, the much anticipated date bringing me joy and purpose to get through the rough days for months.

Taehyung has been away for the past four months, first promoting BTS’s new album and then touring around the world, stadium after stadium.

Being alone at home, the same routine of going to college, going back home to study and waiting for his texts and calls everyday a repetitious and mundane chore being my reality for what seemed like years.

I don’t know when it began, the feeling of him drifting away from me, every day more far away and foreign than the day before.

We began with facetiming every day and three-hour long phone calls being our norm to the occasional one worded texts replacing it instead. Every time I tried to reach out it was always the same cold hearted responses from him and our once a fairy-tale of a relationship turned into a desperate one sided tug of war.

The day he finally came back, a day before our anniversary, I was surprised to wake up to a call from him. I was losing hope on where our relationship was going and thought he would have forgotten by how down south things were heading for us but the sight of my phone buzzing from his call, a picture of him kissing my cheek on a cold winter morning flashing on my screen made my heart leap and fill with an overwhelming feeling of joy and hope.

Maybe I was overreacting, I thought.

He must have been exhausted from touring almost every night which left very little free time.

Now that he’s back, everything will be back to normal again.

My Taehyung, the boy I fell for. My boyfriend that always makes my heart skip a beat will be back and everything will be back to how it was before.

In an instant, all my doubts and feelings from the past month disappeared and I was ecstatic to pick up the phone, sliding to accept the call right away.

“Hello?” his deep voice greeted me from the other side of the line. I forgot how much I have missed hearing his comforting voice, the sound of Taehyung’s deep voice reverberating through the line making my heart flutter in an instant.

“Hey babe, how’ve you been?” I couldn’t fight the smile creeping on my face and the warmth in my heart, finally being able to talk to him after so long.

“I need to see you tomorrow,” he takes a deep breath before sighing and continuing, “are you free?”

“Yeah of course,” I said despite being rather confused at his ridiculous question. Of course I’ll be free, it will be our two-year anniversary and we planned on spending the day together since before he left. On top of that, for the past two years that I have been with him the fact that Taehyung is the most spontaneous person I have ever met is second to knowing my own name for me so the fact that he is planning something ahead is rather new in this relationship. I guess for our two-year anniversary he is trying something a little different. I couldn’t help but smile at his attempt.

“Okay, the usual place?”

“The usual place.”


I’m standing by our usual meet up point. Our favourite café, the café that made the best muffins in all of Seoul. Sipping my cup of chamomile tea, its calming scent taking over me, I sigh in contentment while I waited for Taehyung to arrive. Along with my tea, I also got him his usual espresso order and I smile at how familiar this all feels. Waiting for him in front of our usual meet up point on a Saturday morning, the calming scent of coffee and tea overwhelming my senses on the day of our second year anniversary. The drumming in my chest showed no signs of quitting and the butterflies in my stomach a storm too wild to tame.

A few minutes later, I saw him turning from the corner, I could feel my eyes light up as I start to smile ear to ear. Propping myself up from my waiting position of leaning against the wall, I took small steps towards him, my dimpled smile not leaving my face.

Only until, I realised I was being greeted by the sight of an unfamiliar Taehyung, a contrast to my joyful heart and his usual self. His jaw was clenched, his eyes set cold. The peculiar sight of his furrowed eyebrows and slow stride slowly wiped away all of my feelings of elation and smiles from just a few moments ago. Feelings of dread took over abruptly as I tried to wrap my mind around this perplexing situation.

For a second, my heart relaxed a bit as Taehyung greeted me with a small smile, but the short lived reassurance quickly went away with the reminder of the absence of his signature boxed grin and eye smile.

“Hey,” he said when he finally reached me.

“Hi Tae.. What’s going on?” I couldn’t help but ask straight away, cutting to the chase. Months of mixed signals and now this. I really can’t take it anymore.

“Listen, jagi.. I need to talk to you about something.” He looked away, rubbing his neck while at it. A habit of his when he’s trying to gather his thoughts together. He remained this way, not saying anything. I’ve never heard silence quite this loud, I thought anything would hurt less than the silence between us, oh how wrong I was.  

Before I could even think about what was coming out of my mouth or even come to terms with what the hell was going on, I blurted out, “Is there someone else?” the creeping thought that I have so desperately tried to push aside for months in my head finally released out of its cage.

Right after I said it I regretted it straight away. There’s a reason why I’ve been keeping it locked away in my mind, it’s because I don’t want to know and I know that the moment I acknowledge the thought, I’m making it a possible reality. I should have kept my mouth shut, I shouldn’t have blurted things out like I always do. I know the answer, without even looking at him I know it. His deep breath and heavy sigh, I know it. Straight away I can feel my heart shatter into a million pieces as he says,

“there’s someone else.”

I stood there numb, my mind blank. I can’t feel anything at all except for the deep sinking feeling of a black hole that spread from my heart, its heat consuming me whole.

“I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to, I really didn’t. We were just friends but then one thing lead to another and I really can’t turn back and I just don’t feel the same way about us anymore.” Although his eyes tried to plead and reason with me, none of the things he’s saying to me made any sense. They were all just noise coming in from one ear and exiting from the other. “I didn’t mean to hurt you like this. To do this today of all days too. I’m sorry.”

When I finally found my voice, it came out as a squeak rather than a question “Who is she?” the faucet in my eyes pouring out despite my desperate attempts to make it stop. “How long has this been going on?”

He looked down at his shoes, ignoring my questions all together.

“So this is it? After everything? What we had, did it ever mean anything to you?” I hate myself, I can’t stop crying. Sobs and tears keep escaping me, failing all of my attempts in being strong. The black hole growing bigger and bigger by the minute as it feeds on my heartache.

“I’m sorry.” His face is now back to being stoic and cold, hard set. Such a foreign sight. I can feel him leaving me, everything we built together, slipping away. All of our plans for the future and unmade trips slipping away with him. “Goodbye.”

I can’t even bring myself to beg him or see him walk away from me as my vision blurred and swayed. I’m suddenly aware of the cold coffee in my hands, such a joke. He did not look back at me, not even as I pathetically plead with him, “stay.”


Hey everyone! Thank you so much for reading my first ever fic, I hope it was okay. Also, thanks for supporting our blog; liking and reblogging our posts all the time. It means so much to us!!

Also, requests are open so feel free to request anything, we’ll try our best to get on it as soon as possible :)

Hwayoung

we all know that one person who is suspiciously good at meeting celebrities. like you know they’re attending school and working a part time job and never leave the house on the weekends, yet somehow they’ve met all of your favorite bands, got super adorable pictures and videos with them, and have even met some of them more than once??? and its not like they paid four hundred dollars for a meet n’ greet. nah, they just FIND these famous people in random places. like how??? what pagan ritual did u use to become this lucky???? how many virgins did u sacrifice for that selfie with beyonce

au for @everythingelsegoesherethen: dean winchester owns the marauders’ map and uses it to make sure he and castiel always ‘accidentally’ meet at strange times.

Since he became a Prefect at the beginning of his fifth year, Castiel Novak has dealt with a lot of troublemakers who clearly just haven’t read the Hogwarts rulebook.

Dean Winchester is not one of these.

Dean Winchester is clever. He knows exactly what he’s doing. He’s read the handbook and

And he never, ever gets caught.

Which is why Castiel is confused when he apprehends Dean for the third time in a month, trying unsuccessfully to get into a secret passage out of the school that Cas /knows he knows exactly how to access. And yet he’s tapping all over the one-eyes witch with his wand, cluelessly trying every combination of “Let me in!” that he can, acting for all the world as though he’s under some kind of Confundus charm.

He turns the light of his wand on Dean, and Dean turns around, doing a very good job of pretending to be startled.

“Dean Winchester?”

“Yeah, that’s me,” the boy grins, blushing and looking down at the floor but not seeming at all upset that he’s just been caught breaking five school rules at once.

“Yes, well, you’re out of bed after lights out, you’re messing with school property and you’re using magic in the corridors.” Cas is a little flustered and he can’t even explain why, but he still manages to tick at least some of the offenses off on his fingers.

“I /am? Oh, man, Cas, I’m so sorry. And I promise you it won’t happen again.” Dean is all mock-apologetic as he claps Cas on the shoulder and starts to walk away down the corridor.

“F-five points from Gryffindor!” Cas calls after him in a shaky voice.

This becomes a recurring problem. The following week, Cas runs into Dean in the restricted section of the library without a note giving him permission to be there. A few days later, he catches Dean in the act when he’s just about to set off a whole box of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes fireworks. Another time, he finds Dean on the Quidditch pitch after dark when it’s supposed to be locked up, flying loops just to show off. Sometime after that, Cas goes to take a bath in the Prefects’ bathroom at the end of a long day, and he finds the tub already overflowing with bubbles, Dean in a pair of red swimming shorts lazily swimming laps.

And for some reason it’s always harder for Cas to keep his cool around Dean that it is around anyone else. Usually he’ll dole out detentions without even blinking;the whole school respecting his authority, but something about this kid has him barely remembering the name of the red and gold house that he’s supposed to be taking points from. It /irks him, because he was given the Prefect position for a /reason, and he’s supposed to be unbiased and impartial and above such things.

After all this has been going on for a good few months, and Cas is no closer to figuring out what exactly is going on in Dean Winchester’s unfairly pretty head, he finds a piece of parchment on the floor. It’s on his normal patrol route, but not on a main corridor - it’s on one of the back routes that only Cas is responsible for walking down on his shift after lights out. It’s placed right in the middle of the corridor where Cas is guaranteed to see it. Almost as though it was left especially for him.

He picks it up. It looks blank at first, but when he unfolds it, he sees that it’s a map - an incredibly detailed map of the whole of Hogwarts castle, every room drawn, Cas believes, perfectly to scale, labelled in calligraphy, every secret passage and hidden entryway marked. Not only that, but the map is enchanted, constantly moving, staircases twisting their way through the halls in what Cas suspects is real time, and most importantly of all, tiny sets of footprints making their way through the castle halls, each with a name attached to them. Cas spots his own name next to his own footprints, which are still in the exact spot that he’s in.

He takes a step forward, and the footprints move with him.

Most of the spots are clustered in the common rooms and dormitories at this time of night; just a few Prefects and professors wandering up and down the corridors. But Cas has a sneaking suspicion he knows who this map belongs to, and the person doesn’t seem to be in the Gryffindor boys’ dormitories where he should be. Against his will, Cas finds his eyes skating over the map, looking for the potential offender.

Dean Winchester’s spot is pacing the Tallest Astronomy Tower.

Of course, none of this necessarily means that the map /actually corresponds to where people actually are. It could just be an example. Could be everyone is placed randomly and doesn’t move, no matter where they really are.

Which, of course, explains why Cas is already walking purposefully towards the Astronomy tower, taking each set of stairs two at a time, checking the map every few seconds to make sure Dean is still in the same place.

He reaches the door to the tower, and he’s not even completely conscious of why he’s doing it, but he runs a hand through his hair to fluff it up and he straightens his blue and bronze tie before he walks inside.

Dean’s there, as predicted, no longer pacing but standing in the center of the room - waiting for him? The tower is open to the heavens - not like the Great Hall, not like an enchanted version of the sky, but actually open, the summer night stars glinting down and reflecting off of magical lights that have been conjured and left to hover all around the edge of the circular tower room, a light breeze ruffling Cas’ robes as he steps towards Dean, noticing that the usually bare wooden floor is scattered with large, puffy gold and bronze cushions.

Cas holds out the map. “I think this is yours.”

Dean takes it from him, not at all surprised to see Cas there. “Don’t think it’s really anyone’s. Thing kind of has a mind of its own. But yes, I’ve been using it for a while.”

“Tell me something?” Cas asks. “You just admitted this is yours. With this you can see anyone coming at any time, you can always stay one step ahead of any professor or prefect, you never have to get found out by anyone. But you keep letting me catch you. Why?“

"That depends,” Dean says with a smirk. “Why’d you bring the map back instead of handing it into a professor? Seems like it’s a contraband object. Seems like I /should get in trouble.”

Cas opened his mouth to retort to that, but realized he didn’t have anything to say. Why /had he come here? Dean was right, after all. His first instinct, as a Prefect with designs on Head Boy at some point in the future, should have been to turn the object over to a member of staff. His mind shouldn’t even necessarily have jumped to Dean. But it had, and now he was here.

“Alright. That aside, why’d you wait for me? Why’d you pick a specific place, here, that you have /no reason to be and just pace around hoping I’d show up to find you?”

Dean spluttered, but quickly recovered. “Why’d you look for me on the map? Why’d you stare at it for so long that you saw where I was in the first place?”

“Why’d you decorate? The stars, the lights, the cushions? Why’d you set this all up for a special occasion?”

They stared at each other for a while, breathing heavily, waiting for the other one to be the first to break.

Cas cracked, and Dean gave up at the same moment, and then he both of them were lunging towards each other, Dean grabbing Cas by the tie he’d just straightened, pulling it askew, Cas fisting both of his hands in Dean’s robes, both yanking the other towards them, crashing their lips together so hard that it was almost painful when they met, their bodies falling into each other, their teeth clashing and their noses bumping and when they pull apart, they both tumble down onto the pile of cushions they’ve set up and /now Cas understands why they’re there, /now it makes sense because their landing is soft and they can reach for each other again immediately, both of them lying on their sides in the heap of fluffy pillows, kissing each other over and over and over again, each one making their lips tingle. Over time, as they grow used to the feeling, the kisses become slower, softer, more languid, and the hooded eyes when they pull away from each other are less from desire and more from tiredness, and they’re both sure they’d be happy to sleep here.

"So, what? You’ve been risking detention and house points for Gryffindor and your reputation as someone who never gets caught just to… just to get my attention?” Cas asks finally, propping himself up on one elbow.

Dean tugs him back down and kisses him again. “Well, you’re risking your Prefect position right now. But I feel like you always have to risk a little something to get the best things in life.”

And between holding hands on long walks by the lake, between screaming themselves hoarse together at Quidditch matches, between feeding each other Bertie Botts’ Every Flavour Beans while studying in the library, and between many, many more long nights in the Astronomy tower, Cas learns that as frustrating and complicated as he is; Dean is definitely one of the best things in his life.