There’s one moment in which Harry Styles transcends its big-name influences. Closer “From the Dining Table” opens with a startling scene: a horny, lonely Styles, jerking off in an opulent hotel room before falling back asleep and getting wasted. “I’ve never felt less cool,” he admits. The writing is frank and economic; it sounds like Styles is singing softly into your ear, a bashful mess. It’s the only song on the album that invites you to consider what it must be like to be Harry Styles: unfathomably famous since before you could drive, subjected to unrelenting attention everywhere except bunker-like studios and secluded beaches, forced to zip around and around the world for half a decade when you’re supposed to be figuring out who you are and what you want. And yet “From the Dining Table” sounds less like a complaint than a confession meant for you and you alone. It’s intoxicating, and it ends Harry Styles on the most promising possible note.
A/N: FINALLY posting something. This is based off a recent even that happened in my life and I kinda needed to write it all down…let me know what you think! Especially since I haven’t written in forever!
Dean x Reader, Sam, Jody, Claire
Word Count: 1000+
Warnings: Angst, Swearing
The two of you had avoided each other for weeks.
What went from hurtful words spewed at you in the heat of
the moment, to you needing time, which then eventually led to the art of stonewalling
that the two of you perfected in. And now here you were with this awful knot in
your throat, your mind curled in on itself, two hands firmly holding the
steering wheel, driving in the middle of buttfuck nowhere. You couldn’t even
remember what the two of you had been arguing about in the first place, but the
overwhelming sense of not being of any use to him, of being an inconvenience, a
liability, was enough to have you putting as much distance as you possibly
could from Lebanon, Kansas.
ok so last night i had a dream that dean winchester was bitten by….
yes, a wereduck. and it didn’t give him any kind of special powers or bloodlust or other murderous compulsions. he literally just remained the exact same dean because there really isn’t anything special about wereducks, apparently.
every month for a week he had to turn into a duck.
and like. when the duck bit him he had no idea it was wereduck. he just. turned into a duck for a full week. and sam was panicking and frantically looking for him until a week later this fuckin. duck. just waddles into the bunker. and sam is like, “how did a DUCK get in here?” and then right before his eyes the duck transforms back into dean. and dean is just like “dude, i got bitten by a wereduck.” and sam was like, “what. the. FUCK.”
Picture Perfect - Dean Winchester x Reader x Sam Winchester
Title: Picture Perfect
Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader, Dean Winchester x Reader
Word Count: 3,652
Prompt: I got it! Can you do a fic where Sam
dies while (Y/N) is pregnant with his child and so Dean helps her
raise the child and they live the apple pie life and right when Dean
wants to propose to (Y/N), Sam returns to life & ANGST. Please
and thank you
“Mary!” Dean shouted “Breakfast’s ready, come on!” he said loud enough, hoping the little girl was going to hear him.
“Yes daddy!” she said in her childlike voice as she ran down the stairs. Her brown curls were bouncing as her green eyes sparkled with happiness the moment she spotted the food that lay on the table.
“Pie!” she exclaimed and the man chuckled at the girl.
“Yes princess!” he placed the last pancake on the place and put the frying pan away. He leaned down and picked her up, giving her a big kiss on the cheek as the little girl giggled at him.
“And it’s your favorite!” he said with a big grin and she squealed.
“-Which you are not going to have for breakfast.” you said with a strict – but loving – mom look.
“What?” she pouted “Why?”
“Sweetheart.” you said softly, taking her from Dean’s arms “Pie is not right for breakfast and you know it. We’ve said you can have pie whenever you want to- as a treat. You will have to eat your meal first.” you said, tucking a few brown curls behind her ear.
“But daddy eats pie all the time- even for breakfast and you let him. Why can’t I?” the four-year-old gave you those puppy eyes that could actually do you anything they wanted.
Summary: A look at the reader through Dean’s eyes, focusing mostly on Dean’s emotions throughout the day and how he reacts to even the simplest of words. This is the raw and vulnerable side of Dean.
A/N: I haven’t written something like this, I think ever before. It’s heavily focused on Dean (especially since it’s his POV). Even so, the reader is a huge part of it, but once again, through Dean’s perspective on the matter. Hopefully, you love it. I spent a long time on it, trying to really get into Dean’s head. It’s not the light side of Dean, not many jokes or wise cracks – it’s him in his raw emotional state. Also, this would not be possible with @thefangirllifeismine who not only corrected all of my shitty grammar, but stayed an inspiration throughout. Please, send in your feedback. It’s extremely important to me, I’d love to hear what you thought about this, especially since it’s definitely different from what I usually post.
– – – –
Her lips were moving, but my eyes were stuck on her hair. It was wet, and dripping a river down her shirt. I don’t think a towel ever touched her head.
“Dean?” Her voice was warm, inviting. It always was. She was never harsh with her words. Sam constantly tried to poke at her, just to see what her voice would sound like if she raised it.
“Yeah?” I met my eyes with hers, catching her gaze.
I felt my brother’s eyes on me as well; his brow was raised and a smirk played on his face.
“We were asking if you wanted to go to the bar tonight.” Sam filled me in.
A laugh came up from my throat as I raised the glass of whiskey in my hand. “I’m fine right here.”
Y/N smiled and looked at Sam, “You’re still in, right?”
He nodded and got up from his chair. “I’ll go shower.”
I tipped my glass in response, and took another swig from it.
“Have you been out in the sun?” Y/N asked, suddenly.
I furrowed my brows, “I was working on Baby earlier, why?” Then, proceeded to lift up my shirt and smell it. “Do I smell that bad?”
“No,” She let out a light laugh, “Your freckles are darker.”
“My- my freckles?”
She leaned forward in her seat, her nose a mere foot from mine, “Freckles get darker in the sun.”
“Huh.” I muttered and took another sip of my drink.
“It’s cute, Dean.” She said and the whiskey managed to go down even slower. My lip twitched upwards.
Without waiting for me to respond, she gathered her hair to the side and wiped her now wet hands off on her jeans before jumping out from her seat.
“I’ll go change for the bar. Invite’s still open.” She smiled, turning on her heel.
I watched her leave, shamelessly.
The first time Sam and I met her, it was an accident. Neither of us knew we had been working the same case, so when I approached who I thought was the legitimate FBI agent on the case, Y/N’s face beamed back at me instead. After a few back and forth questions, the three of us discovered none of us were agents, and went to grab drinks instead. It was supposed to be a one time deal.
But, one night turned into two. Eventually, three. In no time, I was helping her bring boxes into the bunker from the trunk of her run down car.
“We can’t let anything happen to her, you know that right?” Sam said to me the night she moved in. The shower water was running loudly, and in that noise, we had a discussion.
“I know.” I replied to my little brother. Worry etched itself into every wrinkle on his face, just like it did on our mother’s. He would never know just how much he looked like her.
“That means relationships, too.” Sam narrowed his eyes at me.
I looked away, forgetting how easily he was able to read me.
He continued speaking, “Everyone we get too close to…”
Sam never did finish his sentence. The shower water shut off abruptly and out bounced Y/N. Her face was flushed and her hair dripped down her bare shoulders.
My thoughts were interrupted as Sam strided into the room.
“You sure you’re not coming?” He asked, cuffing up the sleeves to his shirt.
It was tempting. I knew the bar had better whiskey than the shit that was currently burning its way down my throat. Better yet, the bar had Y/N. Whenever she entered a bar, I could see everyone’s attention land on her. Her warmth radiated through her big eyes and genuine smile. Who wouldn’t be attracted to that?
“Nope,” I shrugged, “Not tonight.”
He nodded his head and walked towards the door, waiting for Y/N to meet him there.
“See you.” Sam shouted, his voice echoed down the hall.
Moments later, Y/N came out from her room. A short navy dress was hugging her skin, but what stole my attention was the jacket draped across her shoulders.
“I hope you don’t mind.” She said, pulling my black jacket around her.
“Looks better on you, anyways.” I said. It was the truth.
“Thanks, Dean.” She smiled at me before opening her small purse, reviewing whatever items lay inside of it. “See you later.”
With that, she was gone.
It may have been another hour before I got up, but when I finally did it was solely because I needed to go to the bathroom.
I stopped at the mirror. My reflection stared back at me, but this time it was different. Usually, I don’t look in the mirror.
Not when I wake up.
Not before I go to sleep.
If I do, I hate it. Plain as that. I never did like the man staring back, and I don’t know if I ever fully will. What changed though was that this time, someone liked what they saw on me.
My fingers reached up to my cheeks, running along the freckles on my skin.
Y/N liked them.
She honest to god, found something of mine that she liked. So, I did too. Immediately, I loved my freckles. I loved that my cheeks and nose were dusted with them, and that the most beautiful woman that I had ever laid eyes on, had found beauty in me, as well.
– – – –
It couldn’t have been earlier than two o’clock in the morning, when I heard familiar footsteps stumble down the bunker’s staircase. I kicked the sheets off of myself and went to see the state they were both in.
“Come on.” Sam mumbled, trying to hold Y/N up, but he was hardly walking himself. “Dean!” Sam shouted, his drunk self wearing a huge smile.
“Oh, it’s Dean!” Y/N exclaimed, a laugh bubbling out from her lips. She gripped the edge of the staircase with both hands, leaning forward as she spoke.
I crossed my arms and raised my brows, watching the two of them stumble through the bunker like baby deer.
“Here-” Sam tossed me a pair of car keys, “We called a cab, the car is still in the bar parking lot.” The keys hit the floor with a loud jingle, his aim completely skewed from the liquor.
Y/N rounded the edge of the table and began to fall towards me.
“Woah, there.” I grabbed her by her arms and steadied her.
“Thanks.” She laughed once more, at nothing in particular.
Behind me, Sam had already found his way to his room. Eventually, I’d have to check on him. For now, I gripped Y/N’s shoulder and guided her to her own bedroom.
“Oh- I forgot!” She looked up at me with wide eyes. “Remind me in the morning.”
I looked at her, waiting for her to explain. When she didn’t, I asked her what she was talking about.
“I have-” she stuck her hand in the pocket of my jacket that she was wearing and pulled out a napkin. A number was scribbled onto it. “His name is Matt. I have a date with him tomorrow night. Remind me, ok?”
I took the napkin from her, fighting the urge to rip it to shreds.
“Okay.” I stated, turning on the lights as she walked over to her bed.
“Promise me.” She kicked off her shoes sloppily. “He’s so nice-” I could tell she was beginning to ramble. Once she’s had enough to drink, she tends to.
“I bet he is.” I cut her off, helping her unzip her dress.
“He just has the most gorgeous freckles!”
In that moment, I worried that she could actually hear my heart drop into my stomach. I swallowed thickly, and within seconds, she continued on her drunken ramble.
“Goodnight.” I stated, simply from habit.
“Night, Dean!” She dropped onto her bed.
I should have gone back to bed. I should have crawled under the covers and shut my eyes. My feet had other plans, though. Step after step, I was trudged through the halls and into the library where my hand found a bottle of brown and an old glass.
Sam’s words spun through my head. She had to be protected. I thought back to everyone I had ever gotten close to; Charlie, Jo, and Bela were long dead. Just like every other fucking hunter that I had ever met and let into my life.
Sam tried to show me the positives. He brings up names like Jody and Cas – but who knows what will happen to them too?
I took another shot.
Eventually, it got dark.
– – – –
“Hey, sleepy.” Y/N’s hand gripped my shoulder. “Wake up.”
I opened my eyes and everything was sideways. Fuck.
“You fell asleep here, again.” Her soft voice explained my current situation. It was embarrassing. I sat up and rubbed my eyes, looking at the scene before me. A mostly empty bottle, a half drunk glass, and what I think was a little bit of drool, lay on the table.
“What time is it?” I asked, quickly getting up from the chair and brushing past her. She smelled like her shampoo. Always vanilla.
She turned her wrist towards me. Nearly noon, her watch read.
“Thanks.” I muttered and began walking towards the kitchen.
“I should be thanking you.” Her voice called from behind me. Then, her footsteps began to draw nearer. “I couldn’t have been easy to take care of last night. Sam and I, we kind of let loose.”
I grabbed the coffee pot and turned it on. The sound of boiling water dripping down filled the silence.
“No, it was fine.” I replied, then remembered what she asked of me last night. “Except-” I reached into my back pocket and pulled out a crumpled napkin. “Matt.”
Her eyes went wide, “Oh god.” She took the napkin from my hands. Her hair fell before her face as she read the number, and she combed it back with one hand.
“I totally forgot. Shit.” She pulled out her cell phone and checked for any notifications. “I’ll just text him.”
I turned from her, unable to watch her any longer, and grabbed a cup for my coffee.
“Want some?” I asked over my shoulder.
“No, thanks.” She said, just as her phone beeped. “He already answered!” She exclaimed.
I kept my eyes glued to the cup in front of me, not daring to see her face light up as she saw his name and not mine.
“Smells good.” My brother’s voice carried into the kitchen. He opened the cabinet and grabbed a cup as well, waiting until I finished pouring my own before taking the pot.
“Feeling good, Sammy?” I threatened a laugh and he rolled his eyes.
“I haven’t been this hungover in ages.” He grabbed a bottle of Advil and returned to the table. “It was worth it though, you should have joined.”
I shrugged and took a sip of my coffee.
“Who are you texting?” Sam directed his question at Y/N, who still stood in the middle of the kitchen.
She looked at him and dangled the napkin in the air, “Remember that guy at the bar last night?”
“The really funny one?” He asked.
She nodded fervently, “Yeah, Matt. I got his number and we’re going to grab dinner tonight.”
Sam glanced at me, before returning his gaze to his breakfast.
“He’s a good guy.” Sam said. I think it was more to me, than Y/N.
“I bet.” I mumbled into my drink.
– – – –
Sam decided to watch a movie tonight.
“Batman?” I questioned. He wasn’t one for the superheroes.
He popped it into the disk slot and dropped onto the couch. Looking at his huge frame swallow up the furniture, I remembered being able to hold him in my arms.
“Last time Y/N picked, it’s your turn.” He said while pressing play.
“Good. Wouldn’t want one of your history documentaries to bore me to death, tonight.” I began to laugh and he rolled his eyes.
“Whatever.” He muttered and grabbed the bowl of popcorn he had prepared.
An hour into the movie, the bunker door swung open. The loud creak it made reminded me to oil it later.
“Y/N?” I called out her name. The heels she was wearing when she left were no longer on. Her bare feet padded against the hardwood floor until she finally reached us.
“How was it?” Sam asked, lowering the volume.
Her lips formed a fine line, “I’m just going to go shower.” She grabbed a fistful of popcorn before disappearing.
I looked at my brother. His brows were raised as he shook his head in confusion.
“I’ll go-” I sat up from the chair, “I’ll go check on her.”
Her door was shut. I raised my fist to knock, but she opened it before I got the chance.
“You walk loudly.” She stated. My lips formed at ‘O’.
“What was that about?” I motioned towards the other room with my thumb.
She shrugged and put her heels away in the closet.
“Sorry about that.” She looked up at me with her big, bold eyes, “I think Matt was a lot nicer when he was drunk.”
I crossed my arms and sat on the edge of her bed. “Huh?”
“Well, we ordered our food and everything was great. I mean finally, a break from hunting.” She explained, and I sighed.
She pulled her bouncy hair out from the pins it was in while she continued, “He was sweet at first, really. But I could tell something changed. Matt wanted more than what I did…”
My arms fell to my sides, “Did you leave?”
“Yeah, but that was only after he asked me four times to go back to his place.” She was on the floor, her legs bent underneath her. She dropped her hands onto the floor from frustration as she spoke.
“What a douchebag.” I stated, no other word was able to form itself. “You don’t deserve that.”
She looked up at me, and a smile formed itself against her cheeks.
“I’m gonna be single forever.” She joked. “I mean, who am I kidding?”
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
From her spot on the floor, she reached out and gripped my leg with her hand. “Come on, Dean. We’re hunters. Let’s say it did work out with Matt – who’s to say he wouldn’t freak out the second that I brought him down into the bunker or told him that vampires are real!” Her grip tightened as she spoke, “It’s so fucking frustrating sometimes.”
“Dating is the worst.” I agreed with her.
“No.” She ran her hand down my leg and to my ankle, where she removed it.
I furrowed my brows and looked at her, every bit of me confused.
“Being alone.” Her eyes dropped from mine and my chest suddenly felt heavy. I knew the feeling of being alone, too well. It was heartbreaking, yet familiar at the same time. It was relief, yet yearning.
“You got me.” I blurted out.
She got up from her spot on the floor by my legs, and situated herself on the bed so she sat next to me.
“I know that, Dean. I meant… more.” Y/N’s voice dwindled into a whisper. I turned my head to face her, and in that moment, I couldn’t lie to her.
“Exactly.” I stated, and her eyes first searched my face. They traveled from eye to eye as she thought of what I could possibly mean, until her lips parted.
I didn’t know what to expect. My heart hasn’t raced this fast since for someone else since high school. I either just started the relationship I had been waiting for, or ruined a friendship that was worth more to me than anything else.
I was so focused on her face that I hadn’t realized her hand found mine.
I wanted to keep her hand there, to squeeze it tight. But, Sam’s words found their way back into my head.
“I’m selfish.” I stated simply, standing up from the bed.
“I’m being selfish, you deserve better.”
She tilted her head at me, her hair falling with it. “What are you talking about, Dean?”
“Everyone I touch, they-”
“I know what you’re going to say.” Y/N cut me off. “Don’t you dare say it.”
“You know I’m not going to.” She stood up from the bed and walked up to me, placing her open palms on my chest. “I’m not just somebody.”
“That’s the point!” I exclaimed, voice rising. “You aren’t just somebody! What if something happened to you? I can’t let you get hurt.”
“You’re not my keeper, Dean.”
I laced my fingers around her wrists, holding her palms tightly against my chest. “From the first time you walked through those bunker doors, I wanted no one but you, and you know why I haven’t told you?”
She looked up at me through her lashes.
“I have been torturing myself every day, because I want you safe. I need you safe.”
For a few moments, no one said anything. Y/N just stared up at me with a look I had never seen before.
Then, she stood on her toes, and pressed her lips to mine.
And God, it was everything I thought it would be. She was warm and sweet, like honey. Her hands were squeezing at my waist and I knew right there that I was done for.
My hands traveled up to her neck, grazing every inch of her skin.
“Since the first day?” She teased, speaking slowly against my lips.
I laughed, “Since day one.” I affirmed and she smiled so wide that all I wanted to do was kiss every inch of her bubbly cheeks.
“How about we get dinner tonight, sweetheart.” I asked, hoping she was still hungry after the shit dinner she described with Matt.
“I’d love to.” Y/N’s fingers found mine and she led me out of her room.
Sam was still seated on the couch. His hand was glued to the remote and I could hear the channel being changed every other second. When we passed through, my hand still in hers, he raised his brows and stared at me.
“Woah, wait-” He called out behind us.
“We’ll be back soon!” Y/N called over her shoulder.
A smile remained on my face for the rest of the night, never faltering.
1. why sky ppl even have to fight for the place in the bunker. they like.. FOUND the bunker??? they OPENED IT??? like grounders would just die without them in first place???
2. luna ilian roan and octavia are gonna fight in conclave n only one person is supposed to be alive in the end but like ??? its not gonna happen obv since they wont kill zach and marie’s characters in one ep huh
3. why does clarke wants so badly to save ice nation like … arent they the ones who killed skyppl-kids just because they saw snow and started playing with it
4. how many ppl trikru has. werent they slaughter like… twice. by my man bellamy (bby boy you did good) and by ice nation ???
5. for who does luna fight in conclave… fishes? all her people are dead
6. WHY THE FUCK BLARKE DOESNT HAVE ANY SCENES TOGETHER IM JUST TIRED OF EATING SCRAPS
Because I just binged the second half of season 12 and I need a pick-me-up.
The first twenty-four hours Cas is back (and wholly human), Dean hovers like Sam has never seen. Every time Sam has almost died ever? Cake, compared to the way Dean follows Castiel around the bunker like some sad, confused, lost puppy.
And the worst part is that Cas is just happy to bask in the attention. Like he knows that this is the closest he and Dean will ever be, and he’s content to take advantage while it lasts.
It’s a little pathetic:
Cas will walk into the kitchen, dressed in the sweats and t-shirt left out for him to make him more comfortable, and lo and behold, not even thirty seconds later, Dean will follow. He’ll hover for a couple of seconds, they’ll do the whole ‘staring but not really staring’ thing, and then Dean, miraculously now in Castiel’s personal space, will casually ask something like: “you hungry?” and Cas’ll nod like his life depends on it.
Oh my God YES I have so many!!! This is literally… a dream question lmao, thank u
EOS 10: Basically gay Scrubs in space
Inkwyrm: more gays in space… but there’s fashion
MarsCorp: do I have a thing about space podcasts? Maybe, but this podcast is silly and absurd and British and you should definitely give it a listen.
The Bunker: in the same vein as MarsCorp, but more existentialism, darkness, and musing about the true meaning of art and where it fits into life. It’s set as a radio show in post-apocalyptic Britain and I absolutely love it.
Kakos Industries: dark humor that’s both simultaneously immature and adult. It’s the monthly shareholder announcements from a corporation that helps you “do evil better” and the CEO that’s trying to keep it all together.
The Strange Case of Starship Iris: okay technically this isn’t comedy podcast but it has a bunch of funny moments and is really heartfelt and action packed. Again, gays in space.
That’s it for now! Thank you again, what a blessing
“Kill your curiosity. Kiss me already.” - Nishat Ahmed (x)
Castiel sighs as the feeling starts up again.
“This again,” he mutters in annoyance, hoping it won’t take too long to notch down to ‘normal’ amounts.
Cas has long since been able to deal with Dean’s longing. At first, it was horribly disorienting but soon enough he had gotten used to carrying on like it wasn’t even there, like tuning out background noise as he waited for Dean to make a move.
However, lately, Dean’s longing had kept surging sporadically and Cas was back to being disorientated whenever the levels of Dean’s longing fluctuated.
When this particular surge doesn’t go back to its usual level no matter how long Cas stays, (not that Cas is complaining about spending time at the Bunker or near Dean; he likes the Bunker and is in love with Dean, anyway) he decides he’s had enough.
He corners Dean in the kitchen one day and growls, “Dean.”
Dean turns - a picture of nonchalance - and asks what’s up.
“What’s up?!” Cas cries a little hysterically. “What’s up is your longing!”
“My what?” Dean chokes out, eyes widening in horror.
“I have had it up to here with you and your longing,” Cas tells him. “Kill your curiosity and kiss me already.”
Dean just stands there, gaping at him.
“You’ve known all this time,” he gets out eventually.
It’s not a question but Cas nods in confirmation.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Dean asks, frowning.
Cas deflates a little now, irritation leaving him in a whoosh.
“There was always something in the way: the Apocalypse, the civil war in Heaven, the amnesia, Purgatory, Naomi-”
“Okay, okay,” Dean interjects. “You don’t have to list out all the crap we’ve been through.”
Cas’ lips quirk into a sad smile before turning into a teasing one. “There was also you coming to terms with it and that took long enough, you emotionally constipated… assbutt.”
“Ugh, Cas,” Dean groans. “Assbutt is the worst insult ever.”
“It’s still an insult.”
“Sometimes-” Dean huffs “-you’re so frustrating I don’t even know why I’m in love with you.”
“You’re frustrating,” Cas says lamely, as he rolls his eyes at Dean. “I thought I told you to kiss me.”
“You always gonna be this bossy?” Dean teases even as he moves to close the distance between them and finally kisses Castiel.
after cas moves into the bunker, he starts to notice that dean leaves his cellphone literally everywhere. cas is getting real sick of keeping track of the thing himself, so he starts taking about 30 selfies all in quick succession every time he finds dean’s phone just lying around. dean never says anything about it, so cas assumes he just never looks at his pictures.
until one day sam is the one to find dean’s phone and when he sees the literal hundreds of selfies of cas making variations of the same serious face, dean’s only explanation is, “what? i think they’re cute.”
and now cas is wondering just how long dean’s been “losing” his phone on purpose.