chair wars

anonymous asked:

I just saw "Rogue One" and CASSian was telling Jyn that he has always followed orders and like saying it was for a greater purpose and all. He also said other things. At the end of the movie they don't kiss but hold hands and cuddle so pretty romantically Canon. Just reminded me of Destiel.

Cassian is also the one with the badass coat with the fluffy hood and I would totally be in favour of trying the Earth equivalent out on Cas for size

Originally posted by krasnaya-ledi

(I remember Euclase writing something about how Diego Luna and Misha Collins have startlingly similar facial structure too when you get down to it, although as far a celebrity dopplegangers go, Dominic West unnerves me so much when I see him on screen that I can’t even see it with Diego Luna)

Uh anyway I’m still repressing the end of Rogue One hahahaha they’re all fine and happy and alive on a beach somewhere sipping cocktails hahahaha please don’t make me engage directly with this question :))))

So I’m sitting at gelato fiasco right now with dori, zhu, and eida. When we first got here the only table open only had two chairs. The was a table with six boys and they had one open chair. Dori casually took the empty chair and one from another table. A few minutes later another boy walked up to their table to find his chair gone.. (it was incredibly awkward since we didn’t think anyone was sitting there and the boys didn’t say anything) so as we are playing UNO, the boys got up to leave, and all seven of them picked up their chairs and placed them around our table blocking us in and walked away. They didn’t say a word and all we could do was laugh. Chair wars.

Let Her Go (Part Two)

Pairing: Mick Davies x Reader (sort of)

Word Count: 2250

Warnings: ANGSTY AF.

Notes: There is going to be a part three because I am enjoying writing this too much. I hope you guys like it! Also, thank you so, so much for all the love on the first part!! xox

Part One Part Three

Reader’s POV:

The two of you rode in silence the entire way back to the bunker, tears falling silently down your cheeks. Sam had wrapped an arm around you the instant you slid into Baby and pulled you close to him, holding you the whole drive. You were glad he wasn’t asking questions; Sam had known you long enough now to know that you would talk when you were ready. He was tense and you could tell by his furrowed brow that he was furious with Mick, even if the two of them were friends. The Winchester’s viewed you as family and no one hurts family and gets away with.

“You okay?” he finally asked as he pulled into the garage, putting the Impala in park and gazing down at you in worry.

All you could do was shake your head; the tears weren’t subsiding and you were too afraid to speak, not trusting your emotions. He gave your shoulder a hard squeeze before pulling away, the two of you making your way into the bunker. Dean was waiting at the bottom of the steps with a generous amount of whiskey in a tumbler. Handing it to you, you gulped the entire thing down in one go, appreciating the burn as it hit your throat. Sighing, you handed him back the glass and he frowned, pulling you in for the tightest of hugs.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” he said sadly as he let you go, guiding you into one of the chairs around the war room table. “How are you feeling?”

“Like trash, Dean,” you snapped, instantly feeling guilty. “Like I’ve been used and tossed away without a care.” You paused. “I loved him, Dean.” Your bottom lip trembled as you said the words.

Dean wrapped you in his arms once more and you felt Sam stroke your hair gently. God, you were lucky to have them. You weren’t quite sure what kind of situation you’d be in right now, otherwise.

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(the truck that tears the side of the war rig’s chassis off with its nasty harpoons)

Look at that guy in the side chair. Why are you there? What happened to you that made the other war boys put you in that chair, just hanging off the side of the truck?

Is it the timeout chair? 


Whatever It Is

Castiel x Reader

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: It’s just really fluffy. Oh, and there’s a brief mention of Cas’s thighs (or Misha’s thighs, whatever) … and that definitely needs a warning.

A/N: I thought about this silly little fic while driving to work. This song came on in my car. For those who haven’t heard it, it’s called “Whatever It Is” by Zac Brown Band. They are one of my favorite bands. Solo italic lines are lyrics. Sorry it’s so horrifically fluffy and somewhat plotless.

Originally posted by ardysgurl

There was no way in hell Dean or Sam would ever go see your favorite band live. Not a chance. Not a chance. So, you sat there, all dressed up in your favorite going out outfit, with two tickets in your hand. And you had no one to go with. You lowered your head as you realized the concert started in a little over an hour.

You turned to the sound of footsteps coming in from the hall. Your eyes met friendly blue ones as you stood from one of the war room chairs. “Hey Cas,” you greeted the sweet angel as he entered the room. Cas had been one of your best friends since you had joined the brothers, hunting full time. He was always there when you needed a shoulder to cry on, someone to laugh with… or at, even when you just needed company as you sat in complete silence.


You took a step towards Cas, smiling as you held up the two tickets. “Up for an adventure?”

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{fic} Not That Straight


Lucien has finally been invited to join the guys’ night out, and it results in new information about Rhys’s past.

“I invited Lucien, by the way. He’ll be here soon.” Cassian announces as he takes a seat at Rhys and Azriel’s table at Rita’s. It’s their monthly night out together, just the guys, while their wives and mates entertain themselves elsewhere downtown. “I know you don’t like him, Rhys. But he has, like, no friends. He could use this.” Cassian takes a sip of his drink and endures his high lord’s silence. “And last time we didn’t invite him, it apparently upset Elain and Nesta gave me crap about it for a week,” he adds.

“I never said I have a problem with Lucien coming with us,” Rhys says coolly. “That’s perfectly fine.”

Cassian dips his fingers in his glass and flicks beer at his High Lord. “Don’t do the passive-aggressive thing, Rhys. Not cool.”

Azriel watches them calmly, looking, as always, as though he has about eighty relevant secrets under his belt that he’s choosing not to share.

“I’m not, as you put it, ‘doing the passive aggressive thing.” Rhys says. “I am genuine in my sentiment that he should come out with us, but you’ll forgive me if I’m not entirely comfortable around him.”

“Because of what went down with Tamlin?”

“Not exactly.”

Cassian lowers his drink. “Is there… something else?”

Rhys puts a hand flat on the table, drums his fingers lightly. He does not answer.

Az cocks his head at him. “Is there something else, Rhysand?”

“If you must know,” Rhys says carefully, “Lucien and I have had… relations… in the past.”

“Well, yeah, of course,” Cassian says, slightly confused as he picks up his beer again. “He was the right hand of that asshole, you guys ran into each other plenty.”

Az and Rhys look at each other.

“Cassian,” Rhys tries again, “I mean that Lucien and I have had sex.”

Cassian spits beer across the table. “What?” He chokes, messily wiping at his chin. “You’re kidding.”

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A Toast

Pairing: Mick Davies x Reader

Word Count: Over 1500

Warnings: It’s so fluffy you might die.

Notes: This is my follow-up to The Plan series (which can be found on my masterlist if you haven’t read it!). I cried so hard writing this. You have no idea. If I forget to tag anyone, I’m really sorry! Thank you guys so much for your support! xoxo

Today was the day. You’d been planning the wedding for months and, after finally deciding to just marry in the bunker, the day was finally here.

Standing in front of the full length mirror in Dean’s room, you smiled nervously at your reflection. You’d gone a little overboard with the dress price-wise but Mick didn’t mind; he’d spared no expense, even though it was only a small ceremony. You’d opted for a beautiful, lace-embroided A-line style dress with a sweetheart neckline and diamante detailing around the waist. Your long hair had been twisted up and styled elegantly, the lace veil cascading down to your waist. Claire had kept your make-up natural and simple. You felt like a million dollars.

A knock on the door signalled Claire was back from the war room. She was smiling brightly as she entered, her hands folding over her chest as she looked at you.

“You look so great, Y/N,” she sighed happily as she closed the door behind her. “The war room looks great, the guys worked real hard. Dean said he’ll be down in a minute.”

Nodding, your mind wandered. Mick, Sam, Dean and Castiel had spend most of the morning moving the table and chairs out of the war room and decorating, with Mary’s help and supervision. You were excited, and a little apprehensive, to see how it had turned out.

Dean was giving you away as Mick had asked Sam to be his best man. Dean had told Claire he preferred it that way anyway.

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anonymous asked:

Oooh, how exactly did the council meeting go for carrier!obiwan?

Mace desperately pinched the bridge of his nose, taking several sharp breaths. “You. How did…that is…oh Force at least its not an active war going on.” He breathed out and then seemed to collect himself. “I guess congratulations in order for you and the father.”

“Ah yes, now…that is another issue.” Obi-Wan cleared his throat.

“Know the father, you do not.” Yoda cackled.

“…Kenobi what in all-”

“What I mean is that there are several potential fathers.” Mace mouth was slowly falling open. “Three in fact.” It was hanging open. “…I’d warn you about flies Mace but I don’t think there are flies up here.” Obi-Wan tucked his robes around him when he noticed Depa giving his stomach an interested look.

“Three, active you have been Obi-Wan.” The mischievous troll known as Yoda smirked at him and Obi-Wan glared back. “Well excuse me for enjoying the fact that I was alive at the end of this entire thing.” He huffed, refusing to say he was pouting.

Mace dropped his face in his hands. “Alright, potential fathers…are any of them Jedi?”

“Two of them. The third is a senator.”


“Look, the last one I was drunk with. It was…nice alright. Also the second was because we were happy to kriffing be alive!” Obi-Wan huffed again.

“Alright, who are these potential fathers?” Depa finally settled on asking when it was clear Mace was mimicking a fish.

The copper haired man found a spot on the wall suddenly very fascinating. “…Qui-Gon, Anakin and Bail Organa.”

You could hear dust fall. It was that quiet.

And then Yoda started to cackle.

Obi-Wan buried his face in his hands before taking a deep breath. “Please stop laughing at me Master Yoda, it wasn’t like it was plann-”

“Three of them! I get the first one!” Mace squeaked. “You were actually in a relationship but the latter two.”

“I was drunk for both of them in a manner of speaking! Drunk on being alive despite everything and drunk on actual alcohol!” Obi-Wan was not certain talking about this with the council in attendance was what he wanted to do and took a sharp and deep breath that hurt his throat a little bit. “Look, I only wanted to inform because I am two months along. I will soon start…showing…within the month the healer told me. And there will be things I can…no longer do, missions I can’t go on.” He shifted and tucked his robes more around himself as he enormity of the situation was hitting him. “And the council needed to be aware of the situation.”

There was some sober quiet then Yoda cackled again. “New quarters you will need.”

Yup, that was it. Obi-Wan shoved Yoda of the chair with the Force, the old troll rolling of the chair while still laughing and dampening his fall with the Force.


Obi-Wan sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, nursing cup of tea with his other hand as he stared out the window of his quarters. Alright, he had done his duty as a Jedi, inform the council and healers that he was going to be…laid up. Though to be honest, Bant had informed him more then he had informed her.

Now came the personal duty. Inform the potential fathers…

That got a groan out of the young master. Inform the potential fathers.


And not just that, but one of them were Anakin who Obi-Wan was pretty sure was in a relationship with Padme Amidala. And he wasn’t sure that relationship was anything like Bail’s with Breha, who welcomed additions now and then.

And Qui-Gon…

Obi-Wan tightened his grip on his cup.

He knew he still adored his old master. But did he still love him the same way?

War could change everyone, had it changed how Qui-Gon once viewed him and how Obi-Wan viewed Qui-Gon?

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and drew a deep breath, letting his mind wander. Qui-Gon’s hands in his, soft kisses, the smell of sapir tea and the quiet noises of Qui-Gon on the couch, reading. The copper haired man opened his eyes and sighed. Oh yes, he still had it bad for the other man on an emotional level, that was clear.

“My life couldn’t be easy, could it.” Obi-Wan whispered then looked down at his stomach. “Not that you’re at fault huh. You got one silly carrier don’t you.” He smiled a bit. “Should I even be informing them yet? When I don’t know whose it is?” The man sighed before tensing as he felt an all to familiar presence in the Force come closer. “Well…guess I don’t have to much time to think about it now.” He nervously squared his shoulders and waited for the knock before going to the door, opening it up and peering up.

“Hello Anakin.”