The Arrangement (Part 8)

Summary: You and Dean head out to his hometown, where you finally get to meet Mary and John. The sleeping situation causes some minor problems.

Pairing: AU!Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2,500

Warnings: language, sexual tension

A/N: here it is, guys! Part 8! I hope you all like it!

Need to catch up? See the Series Masterlist

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Extended Imagine - Stormy Snuggles


The sky spoke in ominous booms, warning you of the impending storm. You climb out of the car and run for the house - bounding up the steps onto the covered front porch. Chris lingers behind, taking time to check out the jagged black clouds.

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Simple Man

Originally posted by deanjackles

Summary: Reader has a break in one night and meets Officer Dean Winchester, the one person who might ruin everything…

Pairing: cop!Dean x reader

Word Count: 2,200ish

Warnings: language

A/N: I hope you enjoy this first part of some gruff cop Dean…

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Originally posted by starefantasisedroolrepeat

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Sister!Reader

Prompt: “He/She will always be more important to you. I get that now.”

Warnings: Attempted angst to just a tad bit of fluff, jealousy/insecurity. Reader is also around 16 so I’m not sure if that counts or not  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Extra: @winchesters-favorite-girl gave me this little gem during her live stream and we both agreed that angst is great and I’ve never actually written it before, so this one’s for you, Katie!

P.S: Go give Katie’s profile a look! She’s awesome and is such a nice person, plus her writing is absolutely amazing ;) 

To say you were upset was an understatement. 

It’s been obvious since the first time Dean had seen her, your brother had some kind of connection with Claire Novak. 

You couldn’t blame Dean, really. His best friend, Castiel, had basically killed Claire’s father-not on purpose, of course-and her mom had died later too. She lived a long time of her life in darkness of never really knowing what had happened to her father, and, in a way, Sam, and Dean were the same in relation to Mary for a long time. 

You, on the other hand, had met Sam and Dean when you were only a young pre-teen and they had been in their late twenties. Your mom had been killed and the boys had interviewed you for the case, not knowing that there was any type or relation between you three from John. So, of course, you hadn’t known Sam and Dean as long as Claire had, which just made you even more upset since you weren’t as connected to them as she was. 

You were currently back in Sioux Falls with your brothers to visit Jody after a particularly long hunt in upper South Dakota, and after being introduced and planning to stay the night, Dean and Claire had started chatting it up. 

You didn’t know why it made your blood boil so much. Claire was only 18, while you were younger by a simple two years. It really wasn’t much when you thought about it, but it was also two more years that she had known Sam and Dean. This wasn’t the first time this had happened though, and you always felt more excluded every time than the last when it did.

You started zoning into your own head and realizing that Dean probably like Claire more than you. It was stupid to think, but you couldn’t help it with seeing the way he spoke to her so easily, laughing in the conversation-thing she didn’t do with you. You felt your eyes line with tears as you stared in front of you, your own thoughts becoming too much as you tried to blink back the water in your eyes.

Sam turned his head and looked at you with concern, noticing how you were slouched into the couch with your arms over your chest and eyes glossed over. You didn’t look angry or upset, but you had that look on your face where you were feeling so much you couldn’t convey it-and that was a look that only your brothers knew.

“Hey, (Y/N),” Sam said, taking a sip of the beer Jody had graciously given him, “you okay?” 

All conversation stopped and all eyes turned to you as you tried to sink deeper into Jody’s couch. Dean’s brow furrowed at you and Claire just simply stared while Alex and Jody looked between you and Sam. 

“Fine.” You mumbled sadly, avoiding eye contact with either of your brothers. Your eyes still remained on the floor and the awkward tension in the room suddenly made you feel like your gut was twisting. 

“You sure, sweetheart?” Jody asked kindly, glancing at Sam when she realized you weren’t going to look at her. “You want to talk about it?”

“M’fine.” You said again, voice cracking as you stood up and felt a few tears flow down your face as you walked to the front door, opening it and slipping out and closing the door behind you. You stood outside and sat on the porch, covering your face in your hands and letting out a sob. 

What was so different about you and Claire? You both hunted, you were both the same age, you both did okay in school, plus various other things. Was she just better than you in general? Did Dean ever even want to have a sister in the first place, or maybe he just wanted someone to be close with without all the extra baggage?

You pressed your face harder against your hands to try and muffle your sobs when the front door squeaked open. You didn’t realize it when the door shut and someone sat next to you and placed a hand on your shoulder. You involuntarily flinched and the hand slipped away, causing you to pull your hands down and see Dean sitting next to you, looking concerned. 

You sniffled and Dean opened his mouth to say something but closed it just as fast. You were semi-grateful since you didn’t really want to talk right now, especially to Dean. You pulled your knees closer to you and folded your arms across them, placing your head in your arms.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Dean asked, and you shook your head in between your arms. “Okay…” Dean said awkwardly, placing a hand on your back and rubbing up and down softly. 

After a few moments of silence and Dean rubbing your back, you got up enough courage to speak.

“I feel like you hate me…” You said into your arms, your voice muffled from the sleeves of your hoodie. 

“What?” Dean asked in concern, his hand stopping movements on your back as you reluctantly lifted your head to look at him with a tear streaked face and puffy eyes. 

“I feel like you hate me.” You repeated, stealing a glance at Dean. “Not, like, all the time! Just, whenever your around… ugh…” You struggled with getting your words out and shoved your face in your hands again. 

“You…” Dean said slowly, trying not to make you cry again. “You think I hate you?” 

“No!” You said, taking your face out of your hands, and looking at your brother while letting out a sigh. “I don’t think you totally hate me, just when…” You let out an exasperated sigh and looked at Dean, whose face was filled with worry.

“When Claire’s around.” You finished. You looked at Dean, who nodded slowly at you, trying to get you to continue so he could understand. 

“It’s just, I’m always excluded whenever we come over here and you hang out with her. And then the days after you’ll barely talk to me.” There was silence as you talked, Dean listening intently to you so he could understand your point. 

She’ll always be more important to you. I get that now. But.. just… am I just not good enough for you or something?” You asked seriously, feeling bad after because of the way Dean’s face fell and turned into one of hurt. 

“(Y/N),” Dean started, looking at you sadly, “I can never hate you. You’re my baby sister. And Claire isn’t more important than you. You’re the only teenage girl I need in my life. Why would you think otherwise?”

“Just…” You let out a sigh and started to twiddle your thumbs in your lap. “I don’t know. You’ve known her longer and she just seems cool and more like you than I am and-” 

“Hey.” Dean said softly, cutting you off suddenly. “You’re your own person, (Y/N). You don’t have to be like me for me to like hanging out with you. She’s never going to replace you, you know that, right? Do you know why?” 

You stayed silent as Dean placed a hand on your shoulder. 

“Because you’re my baby sister. And no one else can fill that job but you.” 

You looked at Dean with tear filled eyes and sniffled, him wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you close to him. 

“Sorry I was stupid…” You mumbled, burying your face into the leather of Dean’s jacket. 

“You’re not stupid, kiddo.” Dean replied, giving your shoulder a squeeze. “But you know that I love you, right?” 

“Yeah, I know” You sniffled, wrapping your free arm around Dean. “I love you too, Dean.”


I’m legit half asleep while writing this and it’s so bad but I hope you guys enjoy, haha.

The Joker x Reader -“ELLIS”

Nothing is ever easy with him, but this time he really crossed the line. If The Joker doesn’t care about anything at all, what is the point of you two being together? Unless…maybe he gives a damn about at least one thing.

You always drive back to Gotham on lonely, deserted roads, trying to avoid traffic as much as possible.

“J, we’re close to our cabin, we should stop and spend the night; just me and you, yes?” you smile, attempting to be cheerful and lightening up the mood.

“I don’t feel like it!” he bitterly replies, keeping his eyes on the road.

“We’re almost at the turn we have to take to get there. Come on… please?”

“NO! I told you I don’t feel like it!” he snarls, clenching his fingers on the steering wheel. You place your hand on his thigh, caressing it with your thumb:

“Baby, it’s not my fault the meeting didn’t go well.”

He pushes your hand away, still fuming. You look outside the window and take a deep breath, watching the sun going down behind the trees.

“J, come on, don’t be like this…You know I love you,” you tilt your head towards him, hoping he will change his mind.

“Right!!” he scoffs with a sour expression on his face.

“What is that supposed to mean?” you ask, getting restless.

“It means whatever you want it to mean!” the Joker snaps, quickly glancing your way.“You don’t love me, nobody does!” he hisses, being in such a foul mood he can barely concentrate on driving.

“Yeah…I wonder why…” you mutter but he heard you and it makes him even more enraged. You start massaging your temples; you really don’t need this after all the stuff that happened lately.

“J…why did we get married?” you ask, closing your eyes, thinking how much you wish your lives were different.

“Because we’re idiots, Y/N, that’s why!” he angrily raises his voice, accelerating. “Thank God you had the miscarriage three months ago because the kid would have probably had your attitude. I don’t think I could handle two of you!”

He hears you sniffle and your voice breaks down when you address him:

“Why…why do you say such cruel things?” and you start sobbing, deeply hurt by his words. “Stop the car…” you manage to speak through tears. “Stop the car!!!!” you suddenly hit the window with your first and he slams the breaks, unnerved.

You get out fast, taking your wedding ring off and tossing it in his lap:

“Here, consider yourself divorced!” you slam the door, frantically wiping your tears. He just grunts, annoyed and screams back at you:
“Fine! I don’t need you anyway!”

“I don’t need you either!” you yell, whimpering, feeling so miserable you can’t wait for him to go away.

“I hope you die in these woods!” The Joker growls, taking off in a frenzy, aggravated.

“I won’t give you the satisfaction!” you shout, crossing your arms on your tummy, watching him disappear in the distance. You turn around and start walking back towards the hidden unpaved, unmarked road that leads to your cabin. It should be about 10-15 minutes away by foot. You recently passed the spot by car so it shouldn’t be too far. Add about 2 more hours of walking until you reach the destination and you should be there before it gets really dark.

You walk rather slow, deep in thought; being outdoors does make you feel a little bit better. It takes you more than 2 hours, but you are finally at the hideout. You go inside and turn the lights on, looking through your supplies to see what you could munch on. You decide to make a tea and wrap yourself in a blanket, then head out to the porch so you can enjoy the silence you crave so badly.

You have your little backpack with you and search inside until you find the ultrasound picture you kept from when it was confirmed you were pregnant. Your eyes get teary again and you kiss the small image, talking to yourself:
“He only wishes you would have been like me…” you sadly smile and your grieving is interrupted by the sound of tires approaching.

Oh, no, what is he doing here? you panic, covering your head with the hoodie in a failed effort to calm down.

He gets out of the car and slams the door as hard as he can, staring you down.

“W-what are you doing here?” you inquire, shriveling down under your fluffy cover. J walks the stairs up to the porch, barking your way:

“I wanted to see if you died on your way here this way I can bury you. It would have given me great pleasure.”

“I’m not sorry to disappoint,” you sneer, still holding the little picture to your chest.

“What’s that?” The Joker points towards it, even if he already has an idea.

“Nothing you care about…”, you chew on your words, making an extra effort to keep your composure as you return your treasure to the backpack.

He takes a seat on the bench that’s the furthest from you, legs up on the railing, trying to light up a cigarette when you unexpectedly rush to yank it out of his hand and toss it to the ground, stepping on it:

“You quit two years ago!”

“Give it a rest before you make me mad!” J growls, taking out the full pack of cigarettes but you snatch it from him, breaking and tearing it to pieces, frustrated about everything and taking it on his nasty habit.

He takes a deep breath, trying not to lose his temper and warns you:

“Stop your shit, Y/N, you’re pissing me off!”

You don’t even care and continue:

“Go back to Gotham, I want to be alone! I don’t want you here, go away!” you shriek through your clenched teeth, heading back inside, trying not to cry.

“I don’t care about what you want; this is my hideout too!” you hear him grumble and don’t care for the rest since you step inside the bathroom, closing the door. You are so ready for a shower and a bit of sleep to calm down the tension you feel in every muscle of your body.

15 minutes into it and J parts the curtain to the side, making you jump since you didn’t hear him sneak in.

“Make room, I want to take a shower too,” he commands, getting inside.

“Go take a shower in the other bathroom!” you plead, irritated he’s so inconsiderate.

“I like this one better!” he kind of shoves you to the side, getting under the warm water.

“Fine, you can have it!” you give up, grabbing your towel and step outside when he tries to snatch you.

“Where are you going? I wanna wash your hair!” he angrily yells after you, unhappy you’re defiant…again.

“I already washed it myself!” you slam the door and J continues his tirade, tossing shampoo and body wash bottles around the bathtub in his tantrum.  

I just need some peace and quiet, why can’t I have that? you think while resting your back against the door for a few seconds, sensing your anxiety is going to reach new levels soon.

The Joker took his time in there but now he’s finally done. He searches for you inside the cabin but you are not there. He peeks out of the window and notices you are dozing off on the couch to the left side of the porch, covered in blankets. Perfect time to rant some more, you are definitely going to hear about how much you annoyed him today!

But when he sees you are in a deep sleep, something stops him. The corner of the ultrasound picture sticks out a bit from under your pillow and he slowly pulls it out, glaring at it for a few good minutes before putting it back with a remorseful sigh. He takes a deep breath and grabs more blankets from the pile on the table and covers you with them, keeping just one for himself. J also brings the gun from the car and seats on the chair next to yours, awake all night because he believes a wild animal might creep up on you.

When the first rays of sunshine pierce through the thick fog, he finally loses the battle and closes his eyes, exhausted. He wakes up three hours later, wrapped in a dozen blankets, not feeling the cold he braved last night anymore; it gets so chilly in these woods after sunset.

He finds breakfast and hot coffee inside but you are gone again. Probably hiking at your favorite spot, J assumes, munching on a few goodies from his plate. You’ve been away for a while and he decides to search for you, he doesn’t even know why. You aren’t too far, just about a mile away behind the cabin, legs crossed in the grass, reading a magazine under your umbrella and enjoying the warm temperature. You hear him approach and you don’t lift your eyes up. He doesn’t say a word and just imitates your position a few steps away from you.

“What are you doing?” you coldly question him, not thrilled of his presence.

“Nothing,” The Joker barely bothers to answer.

You exhale, turning the page and fighting not to pay attention to his nonsense:

“You can’t stay in the sun, you know you burn easily,” you grunt, indirectly inviting him to get lost.

“So? Why do you care? Mind your own business!” and he lets himself go on his back, enjoying the hot sun.

“You’ll burn badly, go in the shadow,” J distinguishes your low voice urging him to move.

He ignores your warning and after a few more moments he opens his eyes to see your umbrella by his head, shielding half of his body from the sun and you walking away.

She’s so obnoxious, I really hate her, is the last thought he has before closing his eyes again and falling asleep shortly after since he’s so tired.


You are nowhere to be found. The Joker searched the cabin and around it but you vanished.

Good, maybe she fell from a cliff and my problems are done, he maliciously grins, relieved and hoping for his wish to come true, but after a few seconds the evil smile freezes on his lips as he notices your backpack is gone. And the small post-it on the fridge he didn’t see before makes him cringe:

“I’m going back to Gotham.”  

Crazy woman, walking alone in the woods, J growls, taking the car keys out of his pocket and heading outside.


You discern the sound of the engine getting closer and closer and quicken your pace, not understanding why you can’t have a moment to yourself when you are very entitled to it. He passes you by and turns the car sideways, slamming on the breaks, gets out of the car and awaits your arrival, his blue eyes so dark it would make you hesitate on your decision.

Yet you avoid looking at him and attempt to go around when he rolls his eyes, fed up with your behavior and stomps towards you, lifting you up and slamming you on the hood, making you seat there against your will while you struggle to get down. J is blocking your way, not budging when you struggle to escape.

“Where are you going, hm? Are you really trying to get on my nerves?” he pins your hands behind your back, watching tears of frustrations forming in your eyes but you are too strong to let him win and swallow your vexation, finally looking at him.

“I’m walking back to Gotham,” you mutter, defying his blue gaze.

“It’s a long walk, Doll,” he pushes you up on the hood even more, making sure you can’t move.

“Why do you care? You don’t care about anything, not even…about…”  and you can’t control yourself anymore and start sobbing, thinking about the mean things he said to you yesterday that hurt you so much. J knows exactly what you are referring to and sucks on his cheeks, gulping, finally speaking up on the subject:

“I did care about that…”

You shake your head in denial, whimpering, dismissing his words so he repeats:

“I did care about that.”

“N-no you d-didn’t,” you cry harder and The Joker sets your hands free, backing out just a bit so you can slide down towards him.

“I did, I cared about that,” he insists, rolling up the sleeve on his left arm to point out the huge “ELLIS” tattoo on his forearm. “Why do you think I got the name on my skin and didn’t remove it? I will always keep it, do you hear me? I did care…” his voice breaks a bit and wipes your tears, lifting your chin up, forcing you to look at him again.

Ellis is the name you two picked for the baby when you found out you were pregnant, fit for a boy or a girl. You were so excited and over the moon you didn’t have patience to wait any longer. But it wasn’t meant to be…

Since you can’t stop crying and he grows impatient, J yanks you in his arms, hugging you while you want to push him away.

“I did care…” he continues to whisper in your ear over and over again until he feels your body relaxing and your arms go around his waist, hugging him back really tight. Since you still won’t stop crying, he caresses your hair, tightening his grip on you too. He senses tears menacing to roll down his cheeks but he brushes the awkward feeling away, because it’s not like him to show any weakness. Instead, he chooses to be The Joker and he has to admit to himself it really takes a lot of effort this time around:

“…Say, Princess, are we still divorced?”

“U-hum,” you manage to squeal, sobbing on his chest.

“That’s too bad, I was hoping to get some tonight,” and he kind of sadly smiles when you pinch his side.” Since I’m here and you’re here, can we at least have an affair?”

“Stop your stupid jokes,” you scold him, sniffling. He kisses your temple and helps you down, regaining his posture, but still holds your hand.

He seems surprised when you push yourself against his body and make him pay attention to what you have to say:

“You can lash out at me, but…” and your voice shakes ”…you can’t say anything mean about our poor baby, do you hear me?” There is so much pain and grief in your voice that he has no choice but to nod yes.

“Don’t ever say anything mean about Ellis… promise?” and you cup his face, waiting for the answer.

“I promise,” he agrees so fast he shocks himself.

“Good then, now you are allowed to drive me back to Gotham,” you announce and take your backpack off, going around the car to get in on the passenger’s side. “Did you lock the cabin?”

“I did,” J reports and can’t help bickering as he starts to drive away:

Allowed to drive you back, Pumpkin?! Like it’s what, a privilege??!!”

“Damn right it is!” you raise your voice and look out the window, ignoring the outburst.

“Pffttt, lucky me…” he grumbles but takes your hand and kisses it. You don’t object and scoot over towards him, silently leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Hey, Kitten, are we still divorced? Or do you want your ring back? I have it in my jacket.”

“I guess you’re allowed to give it back to me when we get home,” you decide with an indifferent tone.

Allowed to give it back??! Like it’s what, a privilege??!” he mocks, taking the turn towards the main road.

“Damn right it is!” you elbow him and he frowns, aggravated:

“Pffttt, lucky me…”

“You are lucky!” you cut him off, lifting your eyebrows with an attitude.

“Maybe just a little bit…” he admits and it makes you smirk, clenching to his arm even more.

 Also read: MASTERLIST

Ben Affleck was the best part of Batman V. Superman. Sure, his spine-crushing, evil-murdering rendition of the Caped Crusader wasn’t perfect, but in a movie that featured a Lex Luthor who taunts a U.S. senator with a jar of pee and an extended sequence wherein Wonder Woman basically sits down to watch trailers for three other DC movies, he was fucking Brando. And when the news came out that Affleck would be writing, directing, and starring in his own solo Batman movie, I was reasonably excited. Dude’s a good director, and at worst, it would be two hours of him grimacing and coming thiiiis close to ripping out the throat of any criminal within arm’s length.

And then Affleck revealed that he wouldn’t be directing it. Okay. I can understand being busy and not being able to commit to things. I have a porch covered in dead plants that can attest to that. It was also revealed that Affleck’s script was being rewritten, and that’s okay too. Writing a script is tough. It might have needed some work. But then it was rumored that he wasn’t even keen on being Batman anymore, and while I wasn’t shocked, I definitely wondered how the dude had transitioned from “I want to atone for the sins of my Daredevil performance” to “Please, Warner Bros. Please just let me go.”

And after putting together all of the news stories that have been spawned from the unstable experiment that is the DC Expanded Universe, I realized that it’s not Affleck who’s being flippant on this bat shit.

How DC Comics Is Making Directors Hate Filmmaking

anonymous asked:

hi!!! can u give me/us some more details about the boy's house because i feel like we don't get much from isak's pov lol we know the kitchen the living room and even's house but i'm really interested to know just how big/how much more there is in the house! thank you and i love you!

fun facts about the acar/bech næsheim/bakkoush household that isak never ever mentions because he’s either 1) too preoccupied having sex or two) does not know things because he was in that house a total of two times for a year probably before he actually got along with even or three) never had a chance to use/be in that room and so never brings it up in his internal monologue and it’s so sad bc i’ve spent so much time like, designing it in my head lmao

yay for limited pov!

that said, for you curious souls:

  • the living room everyone is using throughout the story, the one that is directly to the right of the entrance, is not their actual TV room. this is their “formal” living room. they set up a television in there because the TV in their actual TV room died on them, and none of them have a) the money to replace it and b) the energy to remove it and deal with all the wirings and shit, so they just brought elias’s old tv that he kept in his closet and set it up there until they can replace the one in their supply room. yousef’s uncle has come over and seen this and his poor house-decorating heart almost gave out, and he offered to replace their TV so long as they got rid of the TV in the formal living room, but they were like, nah, we’ll do it on our own, you’re already renting us your house at a good deal like wtf.
  • the “real” tv room is toward the back end of the house, in front of the kitchen
  • to the left of the entrance you, nestled deeper into a small hallway, you have elias’s bedroom! yes, elias’s room has been downstairs the entire time, and right beside the entrance, so the pretty big window looking out to the porch/driveway outside belongs to elias. it’s the master bedroom, which means he’s got the biggest room, closet, and bathroom, and though he insisted yousef should have it since it was his uncle giving them a deal, yousef admitted that he and even were terrified of being the first ones murdered if an assailant every came into the house, and elias called them ridiculous and stupid but took the room anyway. n*ce cheers for elias
  • they have a covered porch both in their front yard and in their backyard
  • they have a pool. yes,,, before you ask,, isak and even will eventually make out in it, calm down people i know the power this pool gives me
  • they also have a balcony. i know, i know, more power. isak is literally the worst at mentioning anything, but, you know, he doesn’t spend time thinking about their house structure, other than “it’s a big house”. the balcony faces their large backyard.
  • there are two guest bathrooms: one downstairs, that’s only a half bathroom, and one upstairs, that is a full bathroom w/ a tub
  • elias has a small office for himself downstairs; this is because he’s actually the sole editor for a small company trying to make it big on youtube — on-camera hosts that speak both norwegian and english to accommodate to larger audience — and they’re doing well enough so that elias sometimes has to take the job home, and he’s getting paid just as well as yousef and even are (well, even’s income fluctuates, and sometimes he does make less than elias, but it depends on the season)
  • the house actually comes with four bedrooms — they’ve turned the fourth one into a “supply room”, where all three of their boys stuff the things they can’t fit in their room. it’s tight and messy and for the most part remains unvisited lmao
  • yousef and even’s rooms are upstairs. yousef’s is in the front end of the house while even’s is in the back end
  • all three of them have a private bathroom, but only elias has a walk-in closet. yousef and even have a double-door shelved closet
  • they have a built-in bookshelf upstairs, right beside the balcony doors and in front of even’s room. there are more knick-knacks than books in there, though, which yousef’s uncle also despairs of. for his sake, the boys contributed a couple of their books, such as “how children succeed”, “the art of seeing”, “the lion, the witch and the wardrobe”, “harry potter and the order of the phoenix”, and “cut by cut”.
  • despite isak always making it sound kinda dreary and dark (idek why???) the house is actually very bright and happy; the living room/dining room/entrance walls are a nice cream color, while the not-working TV room and the kitchen are a nice, cool brown. they have light hard-wood floors and their door/cabinets/panels are all white and they have a LOT of lights so the house never looks sad, just when the lights are off or what elias likes to call “the mood lighting” is on. yousef’s uncle, the designer and owner, is just a happy dude. he ain’t going around making depressing-ass houses.
  • the living room is open to the upstairs, so it’s got a high ceiling and very high windows and lights — which is why the boys slack off sometimes changing the bulbs that go out, because it’s ridiculously high and they’d need a very long ladder
  • the stairs aren’t straight up, they’re straight up then take a sharp turn to the right. the steps and the railings are also made up of the light hardwood that the floors are made of while the front of the steps and the banisters are painted white

i’ve sketched it out already, to use as reference (even though i hardly need it thanks to isak lol but it’s good to picture it anyway) but eventually i will clean it up and post it for you guys, i love you!!!

My childhood innocence was stripped when I was about 3, my dad was driving drunk with me in the car and some guy cut him off. So he proceeded to chase him down. Then the guy got out of his car and grabbed a crowbar. I would wake up from naps and my dad was nowhere to be found. Throughout the years I watched him fall down stairs and stumble around. I was terrified. He would come and leave and I would see my mom cry every time. I watched him and my mom scream at each other why I sat on the porch covering my ears. My brother asked me when I was 6 “do you wanna see your dad get beat with a club?” Id go to school and get no relief because I was picked on day after day. I truly believe the trauma of your childhood melds you into someone different. I often wonder what I would have been like if it hadn’t happened. Would I not be a shy, anxiety ridden depressed person? Or would I be exactly the same? I don’t think children should have to have an adult mind and issues. Because then you have all this baggage that weighs you down all the time. It’s always there in your mind. I think people think that children don’t catch on to things or wont remember. But that’s the farthest from the truth. They are so observant. It strips their childhood away from them. And puts them in a position to deal with things that they should have no business having to deal with. If adults have a hard time dealing with it, how do you think it is for children?
—  Chapters from my life

Nessian, 904, Rated G 

A/N: Here’s a little domestic drabble. They kinda make pancakes, they kinda read, they’re mostly just two fools being affectionate. 


Rain poured down on the street in front of them. The weather had been the same all day, but Nesta and Cassian were not wet. Instead, they curled up on his swinging bench, reading together. Separate stories, but entangled enough that they were sharing their own. Nesta had positioned herself in a tiny ball pressing into Cassian’s side, while he wrapped his arm all the way around her to hold his own novel.

They’d been there for hours. Just sitting, enjoying the weather from the safety of his covered porch. Cassian occasionally would drop a foot and give them a gentle push, rocking their seat gently. Occasionally, one of them would drift off while they lie there. Nesta had twice, each time awoken by Cassian gently pecking her forehead or nose. Thunder would sometimes crack, but the two were covered and had a slight protective shield surrounding the porch.

Nesta almost wished they could experience this more often, but she couldn’t bring herself to tell Casian she was ready. Ready to tell everyone else about their fledging relationship that was mostly late night encounters in which they did much of what they were currently doing. However, the rain created an excuse not to start their training while also offering them time alone. Cassian had asked her what she wanted to do and didn’t argue when she replied with quiet reading.

Thus, they’d been holed up at his house, using the rain as an excuse for her to stay. While they managed a healthy silence, Nesta was beginning to feel an increasingly noticeable hunger.

“Cass,” she whispered, her voice rough from hours of disuse.

His arm tightened slightly around her. “What is it?”

Her stomach growled loudly, almost in anticipation of her statement. “I’m hungry.”

“You know where the kitchen is, go help yourself.”

“I want pancakes.”

“There’s one of those just add water packs in the pantry.”

She grew a bit bothered because clearly he couldn’t read between the lines. “Do you want pancakes?” She sat up, the blood rushing to places it hadn’t been, causing a tingling feeling.

“Sure.” He stretched his arms high above his head and stood, bringing his shirt up a little.

A wicked grin grew on her face. “Great! Then you can make them,” she proclaimed, flopping back down to cover the whole swing.

He released a deep sigh.

She added, “Since you know the super secret recipe, you should make those.”

She was referring to the chocolate chip ones that he learned from Rhys’s mother centuries ago that still were the best thing she’d ever had in her life.

“What am I going to do with you, Nesta Archeron?” he asked before leaning down to share a chaste kiss.

When he left, Nesta felt both his absence and her hunger, but she also felt the desperate need to finish her chapter. Due to something that neither of them would admit, she could feel Cassian’s anticipation for her to return, and she could hear his humming.

Her eyes dragged across the last words of the chapter, shocked at what was happening. “I want you to know,” she shouted as she stood and walked into Cassian’s house, “that I have put down my book, at a cliffhanger, for your pancakes. Not you. So they better be good.”

“Sure,” he mumbled as she wrapped her arms around his waist from behind and burying her face in his back, “you just came here for the pancakes.”

“They’re really all you’re good for,” she said half-heartedly, “the pancakes. Though maybe I’ll be a little generous and say food in general.”

“And they said you weren’t kind.”

She just hummed in response and closed her eyes breathing him in. Her fingers slowly spread themselves underneath his shirt, while he just stared down at the griddle.

“Sweetheart, I can’t burn these. Which means it needs my utmost attention—“ he gently grabbed her hands and took them off his chest—“So this, like many other things we’re taking slow, can wait.”

She glared at him before plopping down at the island and dipping her fingers in the batter.

“Maybe, I should’ve just stayed outside and read where you clearly wouldn’t have missed me.”

“Be my guest, but I get first dibs. And I usually eat quite a few, a whole batter-ful before, so you can take your chances.”

She knew he was joking, especially when he turned and presented her with a heaping plate of pancakes. Then threw the butter and cinnamon at her, without her having to ask for her favorite toppings.

“Honestly, Nes, you do need to learn how to cook,” he said as he poured more batter down.

“Why would I ever need to when my sister’s mate has help around every corner? And when they’re not available, I can usually come push a certain Illyrian to do it for me.”

He chocked out a laugh. “Someday, Nesta, I am going to teach you how to cook.”

She didn’t argue and kept eating her pancakes as Cassian sat in the stool next to hers. They ate in silence. Nesta slowly nibbling her way through her pancakes while Cassian inhaled his. Inside her mouth, the chocolate practically burst as it oozed out of the fluffy mix which elected her to release a moan.

“Like how they taste?” he teased, mouth full.

Her eyes rolled slightly in pleasure as she nodded. In the past month, she’d ate hundreds of his pancakes, and she still didn’t know if they were so wonderful because of the recipe or who made them. 

A Soulmate to Remember chap 3

Hey! Guess who made it to 100 followers! I’ll now be taking requests! So why don’t you hit me up and I’ll see what I can do!

Chapter 1  Chapter 2

Tags: @welcometothecity, @miss-nerdalots

TW: blood mention? 

word count: 1,600

Chapter 3

You had actually forgotten for a split second that someone was holding yo and your arms were wrapped extremely tight around them. Then you realized that none other than Batman was holding you, and you got really self-conscious.

 "Are you alright Miss?“

  You nodded and he gave line back into his grappling hook that had made the two of you soar up into the tree. You heard two other lines descend with you and once your feet hit the ground you released him with a quiet,"Sorry.”

  The two other thumps revealed themselves to be none other than Nightwing and Red Hood. Batman turned to them,“Is Batmom and Red Robin on their way home?”

“Yep,” Nighwing replied,“Agent A picked them up right after we got the call.”

 "Good, Nightwing you and I are going in,“ You watched as Batman removed his cape and placed it around your shoulders, pulling a separate hood up and putting it over your head,"Red Hood, stay here with her.”

  Red Hood’s body languages changed,“What-”

  Batman turned to him,“No arguments, we need to get this situation resolved as quickly as possible, and quietly. So stay. Here.”

 Batman turned without a word and disappeared into the forest. Nightwing turned to the hooded man with a shrug,“Sorry man. Maybe next time,” and leapt after Batman.

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Pairing : Guzma X Reader/Female Protag(18+)
Plot : A late night visit meant to quell guilt doesn’t go exactly as expected.
Rating & Warnings : Mature, Abuse Mention
Is There Bangin’ ? : I wrote, you better believe this is

Notes : OKAY, this is the first fic I’ve written since I was a wee bab of sixteen, so I am. A tad rusty. STILL. It was fun to write, and I hope you enjoy it ~!

Also, I have it uploaded to fanfiction, so if it’s easier to read there than on my blog, here is the link ~

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anonymous asked:

Any rainy day kiss headcanons or scenarios for our chocobros and their s/o's? :) thanks!

Yay, first request! I’m gonna do them as scenarios if that’s okay!


One thing you came to know about the prince–he loved to fish. At any time, in any weather. So when he decided to bring you to his favourite fishing spot one day, you were not surprised when it started to rain and he didn’t exactly rush to stop.

“Noctis!” you whined, unprepared for the rainy weather. “I’m getting soaked! Please hurry!”

Noctis was hastily packing up his fishing gear, as he was already soaked to the bone. Once he had everything, he grabbed your hand. 

“Quick, we can wait in here until the rain passes,” he said, bringing you into the abandoned cabin that had once been a small fishing store. Once you were inside, you had a full-body shiver. Noctis came closer. “Cold?”

You shivered again, your arms hugging yourself. “Yeah, a little.”

Noctis wrapped his arms around your waist and pressed a kiss to your lips, his tongue dipping into your mouth. You let out a bit of a squeak as the kiss deepened, and you looped your arms around his neck.

After a while, he pulled away. “How about now?


Prompto had taken you to the Moogle Chocobo Carnival. The day started off great–the sun was shining, the sky seemed clear. He laced his fingers with your and excitedly brought you from one attraction to another. Around mid-afternoon, though, the sky started to get dark. You looked up and frowned at the heavy storm clouds that loomed overhead.

As soon as the first droplet hit Prompto’s nose, he immediately yelped. “My hair! We’ve gotta take cover!” He dramatically pulled on your arm and started running towards the closest cover, but the rain had already come down in droves, as if someone had dumped an entire bucket of water over the carnival. 

By the time you reached a covered bridge, Prompto’s hair was limp and he sported a disappointed pout. 

You giggled, stepping closer to him. “You still look cute, if that’s any consolation,” you grinned, giving him a peck on the cheek. He still pouted, so you showered his face with kisses until he became a giggling mess. 

He pulled you close and just as you were about to kiss him again, he shook his hair out like a wet dog, earning a scream from you. He laughed when you smacked his arm lightly, but then he kissed you again and you instantly forgot why you were mad in the first place.


You hadn’t expected so much rain on your weekend camping trip with Gladio, but there you were, trapped in the tent with your boyfriend, the zipper flap opened ever so slightly so you could see the droplets falling onto the stone landing outside.

It had rained for two days straight, and it was the evening of your last day at camp. You wished it had been more eventful, with more hikes and maybe even a hunt or two, but the rain had kept you at bay for most of the trip.

“Hey,” Gladio snapped you out of your thoughts. He was sitting back, one of the books he brought in hand. “C’mere.” 

He motioned for you to come sit in his lap, and you complied. You sat between his legs, your back pressed against his chest. He wrapped an arm around your middle and held his book in the other, and began to read aloud.

The baritone of his voice rumbled against your spine, causing heat to shoot up into the pit of your belly. You turned your head to look up at him. He stopped reading his passage and leaned down to kiss you. It was meant to be a chaste kiss, but once you tangled your hands in his hair, his book was abandoned and…well, let’s say the camping trip wasn’t a total loss after all.


On your first date with Ignis, he’d taken you to a quaint little cafe down the street from your apartment. It was one that you’d heard of, but never actually visited before. It served fancy coffees, fruit pastries and macarons. The two of you had been so deeply engaged in conversation that you barely noticed the rain coming down hard against the cafe’s window.

You looked outside and frowned, realizing that neither of you had brought an umbrella. “Not to worry,” he said, removing his suit jacket. “I’ll cover you.”

You protested, but he merely shook his head with a smile. Once you’d finally decided to brave going outside, he held his suit jacket over both of your heads (but mostly yours), and the two of you made a mad dash back to your apartment.

You hadn’t remembered the last time you’d laughed so hard from just running in the rain, but being with Ignis made your heart flutter. At your front step, he shook some of the rain water from his jacket and turned to you.

“I had a lovely time,” he said, taking one of your hands in his. “I’d like to see you again, sometime. Perhaps on not such a rainy occasion.”

You blushed. “I’d like that.” Ignis turned to leave, using his jacket to once again shield him from the rain. He’d made it down the first few steps when you called out his name to wait. He turned, and you stepped out of the cover of your front porch and kissed him, your hand coming up to stroke his jawline.

Once you finally pulled away, you saw how red his cheeks were. “You’re all wet,” he said finally.

You bit your lip. “Wanna come upstairs and dry off?”

That Should Be Me

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader // Steve Rogers x Peter Parker

Warning: Nothing, swearing I guess?

When Peter calls it off to keep you safe, he takes it hard and when Steve drags him from the Tower to give him a pep talk into moving on they had no clue they would run into you while on a date. Peter can’t let go, he has to know how it goes, even if that means following from a distance with Steve telling him how bad this is.

@summerbummer2001 @chrisevansthedoritobastard   
@holahellohialoha  @almightyunnie 
@imamotherfuckingstar-lord @iwillbeinmynest  
@letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked  @goodnightwife 
@irepeldirt  @yourtropegirl
@bellejeunefillesansmerci  @buckyb-avengers
@winterboobaer  @mrhowardstark 
@rileyloves5  @ria132love

Originally posted by softtroublemaker

“You know you can’t stay in the tower forever.” Steve chuckles. “You do not live in a Disney movie.” He shakes his head sipping his coffee.

“I see her everywhere though.” Peter grumbles kicking an empty cup on the sidewalk.

“Figuratively.” Steve looks at him.

“Yeah figuratively.” Peter sulks as they continue down the sidewalk.

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This was prompted a ludicrously long time ago by @nikkibeckettcsm and I’ve had it waiting in my drafts ever since. Nikki, I hope you like this if you have the chance to read it! <3

A Not So Gray Day

“What about there, Momma?”

Kate lets her daughter pull her along the well-worn path to the dock, taking care to keep her footfalls steady on the slick ground. They’ve been at the cabin with her dad for almost four days, and this is the first day the rain has let up for any solid amount of time.

So of course, Lily had chosen their reprieve from the weather as the moment to request a walk and her “photo session,” kissing her sleeping brothers on the heads and patting her father on the shoulder before grabbing Kate’s hand and tugging her beyond the covered porch for the first time since their arrival.

It’s a bit indulgent, and a little dramatic, the concept of having a photo shoot prior to cutting her hair, but at six and a half years old, Lily Castle is every bit Martha Rodgers’s granddaughter, right down to choosing the most fashionable sweater and knitted cap to wear over said hair. And as with everything else in her life, she wouldn’t be discouraged from this when Kate suggested waiting for a brighter, warmer day.

“There looks good, baby,” Kate murmurs, swiping her thumb over the girl’s tiny fingers. She has gloves for her daughter in her pocket, but it’s a battle she’s only going to fight if necessary. If they’re out here too long. “Not too far on the dock, though.”

Her daughter bobs her head in agreement. “Bessie might get me.”

Kate can’t smother her laugh fast enough, no matter how hard she tries. “Bessie?”

“Uh huh,” Lily says, unconcerned with her mother’s amusement. She’s preoccupied with choosing which side of the dock entrance to claim as her perch.

“Don’t you mean Nessie?”

Lily shakes her head. “No, Mommy. Nessie lives in Scotland. Bessie lives in our lake. Daddy said so. She’s friendly, but sometimes she gets too excited to see people, and she gets ‘em.”

Smothering a smile, Kate makes a mental note to ask her husband what else he’s been teaching their kids about water safety. Bessie? Really, Castle?

“She does, huh?”

Lily grins. “Yeah, an’ that’s why the rule is you only go all the way out on the dock if you’re with a grown up and you’re gonna swim or fish. Because Bessie might make you get in, even in your clothes!” she adds, releasing a hearty cackle.

“Phew. I’m glad you told me about Bessie then. We’ll make sure to stay here for now, just to be sure.”

Lily nods, making herself comfortable, tossing her hair over her shoulders, only to change her mind and bring it back in front of her a second later. Kate gives her a moment, watching the concentration involved in making sure it’s all going to look perfect in the picture. Once Lily’s squirming seems to cease, Kate squats and lifts the camera to her eye.

“Okay, honey,” she singsongs. “Say cheese.”

Instead of a front-facing grin, she’s met with Lily’s profile and her daughter’s contemplative frown.

“Hey, what’s that face about?” she asks, tilting her head.

Lily shrugs. “Just thinking.”

Kate bites her lip. “Lily, if you don’t want to cut your hair, you don’t have to. Or if you want, we can wait until it’s a little warmer, or even until after summer. Nobody’s going to be upset if you want to think about it for a little while longer.”

Her daughter shakes her head, vehement in her refusal. “No, I wanna cut it soon. Another kid needs it more than I do.”

Affection floods her chest. Her sweet, thoughtful girl. Lily’s been waiting so long to have enough hair to donate, talking about it nonstop, about how badly she hopes it can help a child waiting for a wig. Kate hopes so, too.

“You’re right. And they’re going to love how strong and soft your hair is, and how much you’re able to give them. You’ve done great, baby.”

Lily nods, lowering her chin as her cheeks turn pink and her lips turn up. “Thanks, Momma.”

Kate snaps the picture then, taking a short burst of extra shots for insurance before joining Lily on the dock and taking a couple of the two of them with their cheeks pressed together.

“How’s that?” she asks a few minutes later, smoothing Lily’s hair off her shoulder. Her daughter nods, resting her head against Kate’s shoulder. “Good. Now,” she starts, lifting her eyes to find her husband watching them from the path back to the cabin, his face soft with adoration, “let’s get Daddy down here and we’ll go say hi to Bessie before we go back inside.”

A/N: This basically popped into my head in the middle of the night and wouldn’t let go until I pulled out my phone and typed it out. I hope you liked it!

Dinner with a Stranger (4/4)

Dinner with a Stranger (4/4)
Tom Hiddleston x Reader
Warnings: mention of abuse, fluff
Word count: 1399

Originally posted by hiddlestonedonloki

Leaving Tom was much harder than Y/N ever imagined it could be. He drove her to airport and because he’s Tom Hiddleston, they let him walk her through security and all the way to the gate. They even gave them a private room to say their goodbyes. As soon as the door closed behind them, Tom’s lips were on hers in a firm but gentle kiss. His arms snaked around her waist, pulling her close and holding tight as his lips moved against hers in a way that made her want so much more. It almost frightened her how much she wanted to be close to him.

“Stay with me,” he whispered when he finally let them up for air. Foreheads resting together as they tried to catch their breaths.

“I can’t,” Y/N replied softly, her eyes closed. “We both knew that me being here was short term.”

“Would you stay if you could?” He asked, his arms still holding her against him.

Y/N sighed as she opened her eyes to memorize his face, her hands cupping his jaw. “I wish I had met you two weeks ago or not at all. Three days has been too short, but would two weeks have been long enough? I don’t think so.”

Tom grinned, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Tom-” Y/N was cut off by his lips crashing into hers, drawing out a moan from her throat. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she tilted her head to give him full access to her mouth, which he took full advantage of. A loud announcement over the speaker calling for her to board the place broke them apart.

“I’ll miss you, my darling,” he whispered, looking deep into her e/c eyes.

“I’ll miss you too, Tom, more than I ever thought possible.” Y/N replied, a tear forming that Tom swept away with his thumb. At the gate, Y/N glanced back at Tom while her ticket was scanned and then, with a small wave, she turned and forced herself to walk down the tunnel and find her seat. Getting settled, she had to take a moment to steady her breathing to keep from bursting into tears.

As soon as she was out of sight, Tom whipped his phone from his pocket and dialed as he began hurrying down the long hallway.

“Helmsworth, where are you right now? I need a favor.”
Y/N landed in Dallas exhausted. Her parents picked her up from the airport, so happy to see her. She forced herself to smile and find the joy in being with her family, they never failed to raise her spirits. On the ride home, Y/N filled them in on most of the trip. They told her some surprising news that her ex had been kicked off the force. Apparently he had been stealing drugs and money that had been entered in as evidence. He was currently awaiting his court date in jail because even his own family refused to post bail.

When they arrived at their house, Y/N felt a little more like herself. Her fears of running into her ex were greatly diminished, so much so that she felt like she might be able to tell her parents about Tom. As an adult, she certainly didn’t need to, but there was no reason to hide her joy from them. She decided that as soon as she got settled, she would tell them.

After a shower and a bit of unpacking, Y/N was ready to talk. She left her wet hair falling around her shoulders, her face free of makeup, and dressed comfortably in a loose sundress as she replayed the conversation over in her head. She knew they would be happy but probably concerned. Her mind was so focused on the conversation that she wanted to have with them, she didn’t notice that there were three voices in their small kitchen. As she padded barefoot into the kitchen, she stopped short at the sight of Tom having a cup of coffee at the table with both her parents.

Her hand flew up to cover her mouth as she saw her parents smiling at Tom in quiet conversation. He looked up and smiled at her, his eyes shining. He slowly stood and walked to stand in front of her. Y/N barely held back the tears that filled her eyes as he gazed down on her face.

“Hello love,” he said softly, his eyes looking into hers with hope.

“How?” Y/N shook her head in disbelief as the tears finally fell down her cheeks.

“I called in a favor,” Tom gently swept her tears away as he cupped her face. “Is this okay?” he whispered.

“God yes!” Y/N cried as she flung her arms around his neck. His arms wrapped around her waist and held fast as he hugged her, lifting her off her feet for a moment. He held her until a sound that could only be a father clearing his throat broke in.

“Oh,” Y/N said as they pulled part, “Mom, Dad, this is-”

“Yes, we know honey, Tom explained already.” Her mother smiled over her cup of coffee.

“How long have you been here?” Y/N looked at Tom incredulously.

“Nearly an hour,” Tom actually blushed a little as he smiled, looking between Y/N and her parents. “I, umm, I have something to talk to you about, Y/N. Can we step outside for a moment?”

“Oh, um, okay, sure,” Y/N looked at the table long enough to see both of her parents grinning like idiots as she led Tom through the back door to the covered porch, stepping into a pair of flip flops she kept at the door. Tom held her hand as they stepped off the porch and into the grass and the orange light of the setting sun.

“Y/N, I have something absolutely crazy to ask you.” He began, stopping to turn to her, still holding her hands in his.

“Okay.” Y/N waited, holding her breath.

“I understand if you think I’m insane and just send me away, I honestly wouldn’t blame you if you did.” He took a deep breath before continuing, his eyes hopeful. “I… I love you. We’ve known each other such a short time and I would never dream of trying to push you faster than can go, but I… I want to be with you. Whatever that needs to look like for you…. I just…. I’m yours, Y/N.”

“Tom,” Y/N breathed out. “My Tom, I love you too, so very much. It almost scares me how much I love you. But how can this work? I’m leaving for New York in a week and you are… Tom Hiddleston.”

“Ah, yes, well here’s the beauty of it, my darling,” Tom grinned a delightfully wicked grin. “I’m in New York quite often. So often, in fact, that sometimes I need a ‘home base’ as it were.”

“Oh really?” Y/N returned his grin as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his head down to hers. “I might have a place you can stay if you get in a bind.”

“You might?” He asked, his lips centimeters from hers.

“If you ask me nicely.” she whispered.

“May I?”

“You may.” She replied just as his lips crashed down on hers. He swept her off her feet and whirled around, causing her shoes to fly across the yard towards her parents watching from the screen door. Their arms linked together, both smiling, happy to finally see their daughter find happiness.

6 months later….

Cameras flashed such that Y/N was nearly blinded but she kept smiling, her arm around Tom’s waist. They were attending a charity function and Tom warned her about the reporters and their cameras. He gave her pointers on how to keep smiling and not look like a maniac. His arm around her waist kept her grounded. Someone yelled something and Tom turned to look down into her face, love shining that even the furthest photographer couldn’t miss it. With a grin, he leaned down and gently touched his lips to hers. He brought her left hand up to his chest and stood such that the flashing lights bounced off of the diamond gleaming on her finger.


Tom Hiddleston Taglist: @echantedbytwh @godsaveloki @musicfashionandscotch @frenchfrostpudding @honey-over-thunder @redqueen1221 @earinafae @scarlettsage77 @capitanostella @chris-evans-whaaat @writingwithadinosaur @alyssaj23 @tomorraw @emmkolenn @babybrreena @feelmyroarrrr @smilexcaptainx @southernbellestatues @redqueen1221 @amethyst3422

A/N: This has been such a lovely story to write! Thank you for taking this short journey with me! If you would like to be added to my for always tag list, just send me a message or an ask and you will be added. Thank you, my dearies!

Way Too Easy

Written for the prompt: Will you pretend to be my date to my family’s holiday party so they’ll stop harassing me about being single? There’s food in it for you.

Dean agrees to accompany Castiel to the Novak family party as his boyfriend, but finds himself regretting it when he starts to forget that they’re not actually dating. (1.9k)


Dean knew from the way Castiel stomped into their apartment and threw his backpack forcefully on the armchair that he was in a bad mood. His roommate was generally a happy person, but when he got angry it was not a pretty sight. Luckily, Dean and Cas had been roommates for three years now, and Dean had gotten very good at reading his emotions and calming him down when he was angry.

“What’s wrong, Cas?” Dean asked, looking up from his book.

“Nothing,” Cas muttered, tearing his jacket off and throwing it down on top of his backpack.

“Come on Cas; we both know that’s a lie. What happened? Is this about your psychology test?”

“No, Dean, it’s not, it’s–” He broke off then exclaimed, “Why the hell do they care if I’m dating anyone anyway? It’s none of their business and it’s not my fault if I’m not.”

“Whoa, slow down, Cas,” Dean said, brain working to catch up to what Castiel was saying. “Who cares who you’re dating?”

Cas sighed. “My family. I just talked to my parents, and they asked if I would be bringing anyone to our family Christmas party this weekend, as a date, and when I said no, my mom sighed in pity and my dad reminded me that I’m not getting any younger. I’m twenty-one!” Castiel was practically shouting now. “And every time I see Gabriel, he teases me about it, asking if I’m dating anyone or ‘getting any,’ as he says, and I know it’s not meant to be malicious, but it still hurts.”

Cas finally stopped to catch his breath and when he gazed at Dean with his large blue eyes, Dean felt his heart twist.

I would love to go to that party with you as your actual boyfriend, Dean thought, but he couldn’t say that, no matter how much he wanted to. The last thing he wanted to do was complicate or ruin their friendship by misreading the situation.

For a second, Dean thought that Cas must be a mind reader, because his face suddenly brightened and the next words out of his mouth were, “You could be my date!”

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