just got a pinterest

Say My Name

Destiel goodness

A short soulmate drabble where you can’t say anyone’s first name, other than your soulmates.

Saw this prompt on pinterest, and it just got me interested in the concept.


“This is ridiculous, Bradbury,” Dean whispered harshly, glaring at the white and gold chandeliers hanging deftly above them. He was so out of his element

He wasn’t used to wearing tuxedos and suits, he would much rather be at home, sitting in jeans and a t-shirt than be forced into…eugh…a tie.

He turned to his long time friend and huffed when Charlie gave him that puppy-dog look, jutting her lips out into a pout.

Dean felt his steely resolve waver. “There is no way I’m going to find my match here!” For full emphasis, Dean raised his arms to the elegance of the ballroom.

“Please, Winchester,” Charlie pleaded, holding onto his arm and pulling him into the large ball room where people were twirling and dancing about to the soft music playing the the background. “You are my last single friend. Everyone else found their soul mate. I need you here, I couldn’t go alone.”

“Charming, Bradbury,” Dean rolled his eyes but nodded. He couldn’t let his friend down.

He reluctantly followed his friend down the grand staircase, tie tugging at his collar in an almost painful way. They stopped at the bottom of the staircase and were met by a man in a dark suit, holding a clipboard.

Dean stopped, breath caught in his throat.

Fuck, the guy was hot. He had such amazing dark blue eyes, full, pouting lips, a tall muscular frame hidden under a dark suit. His gaze rose up from the writing on the clipboard and he smiled at the two, making him look even more gorgeous than before, if it was possible.

Dean felt his heart skip a beat. Fuck, dimples…

“Bradbury and Winchester,” Charlie said, peering at the list.

The man nodded and ticked Charlie’s name. “Good evening, Miss. Bradbury, Mr…” He looked down at the clipboard in his hands. “W…” He mouthed out Dean’s last name, trying to say it.

Dean rolled his eyes. God, the gorgeous man just had to annoy him, didn’t he. Dean’s last name wasn’t that hard to pronounce was it? No one else ever had a problem before, it sounded just as it was spelt.

“Win-ches-ter,” Dean frowned, a little bit insulted. “It’s not that hard to say.”

“I’m sorry…” He said flustered, still trying to mouth his last name. It was terribly rude of him.

Dean watched as he clenched his eyes closed, trying once again before giving up. His cheeks turning an adorable shade of pink.

Dean glared at him, sarcastically saying. “Just call me Dean,”

He narrowed his gaze at Dean, taking on his challenge. “Of course, Dean.”

Their eyes widened in shock.

“Oh…oh hell!”

Junkyard Blues (Dean Winchester)

A/N: How was everyone’s weekend? Hope you had a pleasant one. This is the first part to a AU series I have been thinking about…please let me know whether you guys think I should keep it going! I’m kind of nervous about this…

ps: Guys this is the first time adding photos…I just got them off my pinterest and I don’t own them!

pairings: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventually)

warnings: mentions of drinking

word count approx: 1795 words

summary: Being Bobby Singers daughter can be difficult; especially once he becomes paralysed and your stuck looking after him, the house and the junkyard. This wasn’t exactly the way you saw your life going but when a handsome stranger turns up for a job things don’t seem so bad.

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I was sitting behind the desk in the office; trying desperately to sort through the mountains of paperwork. Most of the stack had coffee ring stains and looked as though nobody had touched them in months. Great.
I ran my hands through my hair in frustration; Dad had never been good with paperwork…or keeping anything in order actually. His filling cabinets were overflowing, nothing where it should have been. He always grumbled under his breath when I mentioned the mess; saying that everything was exactly how he liked it and if it bothered me so much I should just leave the room. Most of the time I wondered how we could be related; we clashed heads almost all the time, usually ending in one of us ignoring the other for the rest of the day.
This wasn’t exactly how I saw it going when I agreed to move back in with him after the accident; I knew he needed help with the place but I didn’t think that it had gotten so bad…Singer’s Auto Shop was slowly drowning; and I wasn’t sure how I was going to fix it yet…
Deciding to leave the rest of the paper alone I picked up my phone, noticing a text message from my best friend Charlie; I couldn’t stop the chuckle escaping through my lips as I read it.

Hey wanna go on a date ;) Coffee?

I looked up at the dusty clock above the door; five thirty…I could just close a little early; it wasn’t as if there was anybody coming in now with car troubles. With a smile I jumped out of my seat, grabbing my jacket from the desk before making my way to the door; flipping over the open sign as I walked past.
Outside the sun was still beating down onto the dusty car park; reflecting off the windows of the many junked cars lying around the lot. This had been my playground as I had grown up; playing hide and seek around the cars, making mud puddles near the garage every time it rained; this was always going to be home. I made my way around the back towards the run down house; the porch stairs creaking as I crossed to the front door.
I sent a quick text back to Charlie, letting her know I would meet her in about half an hour before making my way into the living room in search of Dad. I found him trying to reach a book from one of his many shelves; not quite reaching it from his wheelchair; with a small smile I walked up to him, raising my arm to get what he wanted.
“I’m not useless y/n!” he snapped as he reefed the hard cover from my hands, I stifled the groan building in my throat.
It was always the same argument with him; never accepting help for anything. It had been like that before the accident but now it was worse; being in a wheelchair he actually needed help. He didn’t want to admit that he was different; stubbornly trying to do everything he had before. I tried as best I could; leaving college to take over running the junkyard, making sure the house was always clean and making sure there was food in the fridge.

He was difficult; like a grumpy child who never got their own way; these days I just learned to ignore it. It was harder on his bad days, the insults becoming more personal the more fired up he got; I loved him but deep down they still hurt. Today was a bad day.
“I know you’re not useless Dad” I sighed, moving over to straighten the coffee table; taking the empty coffee cups to the sink. He used them these days to drink whiskey, hoping I wouldn’t notice – as if it ever fooled me.
“Stop trying to clean every god damn minute”
“This place is a mess Dad! I’m just trying to tidy up”
“Well who asked you to! I like it! It’s my place and I’ll have it like I want…just get out of my house would ya”
“Fine. I’m going out, dinners in the fridge”
I dumped the mugs into the sink before storming out of the house, muttering under my breath. Swinging myself into the cab of the truck I let the anger linger in the air; my nostrils flaring as I tried to calm myself down. With one last irritated huff I threw the car into drive and sped out of the lot, dust flying up from my tires.

-

Charlie was already sitting in a booth when I made it to the diner; not so subtly eyeing the blonde waitress across the floor, her lips pursed in appreciation.
“I swear you’re worse than any guy I’ve ever met” I laughed as I slumped into the seat opposite. Charlie turned and gave me a huge smile, her red curls bouncing around her face.
“And you’re not nearly bad enough” She retorted; raising her eyebrows challengingly.
“Ah well you have to have time for these things” My smile faltered for only a second but she caught it.
“How is he today?”
“It was one of the bad ones…practically kicked me out of the house for trying to clean up”
“He just needs time y/n, you know he appreciates what you’re doing for him”
“Some days I think about just leaving…going back to school” I sighed, “See how well he goes without me there…I know I won’t do it but still…”
“I know” She smiled at me again; winking as the waitress brought over a couple of menus.

“How’s class been?” I asked as I sipped my coffee, picking at the chips on my plate.  
“Busy…exams are coming up soon and the teachers are just piling the work load on”
“At least breaks coming up right? You gonna stay in town?”
“Nah…Jo’s organized this whole trip to the beach…” She trailed off for a second, looking at me across the table, “You should still come, I’m sure everyone will be glad to hear from you again”
“I have to work Char…and besides I can’t leave Dad alone”
“Y/n I know his going to struggle for a little while but you can’t give up on your life too you know; you’ve already given up school are you going to sacrifice your social life aswell?”
“I can go back to school when I want to…and besides I don’t really think I fit in with them anymore anyway…it’s okay though, you’ll have fun”
Charlie nodded her head sadly; I knew she was trying to get me out of this rut I’ve found myself in but if I was being honest with myself; spending time with Jo Harvelle was not high on my list of priorities.
We had a complicated relationship; we had gone right through middle school as close friends; the three of us – including Charlie – were practically inseparable. That was until the end of high school when she suddenly went complete Dr. Jekyll on me; I was fuzzy on the details but ever since then we avoided each other as much as possible.

We stayed in the diner until after seven when I decided that I should probably be heading home again; the very idea dampening my mood considerably. Saying a quick goodbye to Charlie I jumped into the cab of my truck and turned back out onto the highway; blasting my favourite country song with the windows rolled down. The breeze flowing through brought goose bumps out onto my skin, the hair standing on end. It had only just started cooling off in the evenings; the sun sinking behind the horizon quicker. Once that had happened I moved from working outside on my soon to be car  and into the garage; staying out there until I couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer. That was the only release I had these days.

I didn’t bother going into the house when I got there; instead stripping off my jacket and heading straight into the fluorescent light of the garage. My boy was sitting there; banged up but gorgeous none the less. The two doors were missing along with the back windshield but I couldn’t be happier to see him; the 1969 Chevy Nova was a classic after all.
Leaning in through the driver side I plugged my phone into the jack; Florida Georgia Line beginning to play through the speakers. Swinging my hips to the music I made my way over to the work bench, shifting through the tools for what I was looking for.

-

The next morning I bounded down the stairs; intending to get an early start in the office. Dad called out for me as I made my way past the kitchen.
“Yeah?”
“I’ve been thinking…the junkyards to big for you to run by yourself – “
“Dad honestly I don’t mind! I like it actually”
“Yeah well…even so I think you need someone to work with; you can’t be in the office and fixing cars at the same time y/n”
“Have you already hired someone?” I asked dejectedly
“A good friend of mine has a son looking for a job; his a mechanic…apparently a fantastic one. His stopping by this morning to check the place out”
‘Yeah okay” I muttered, heading for the door once again.

I spent the morning like yesterday; going through filing cabinets and making phone calls to pay bills. I had been also anxiously watching the front lot for this mystery man; it was no lie that people skills were not my best and I already knew that working with another person was going to be difficult.
 It wasn’t until noon that I heard a car pull in; my eyes widening as I saw the black beauty come to a stop. I was out the door in seconds, heading straight for the Impala.
“Is this yours?” I asked as the owner got out; not taking my eyes off the shining black paint.
“Yeah this is my baby” the man replied gruffly, “My pride and joy”
“She’s stunning”
“Thanks”
I finally looked up and felt my breath hitch in my throat. Holy shit! If the car was gorgeous than its owner was flawless…
His green eyes were staring back at me, his plump lips quirking into a smirk; I traced my eyes down the bridge of his nose, noting the freckles scattering across his cheek bones; the small amount of scruff covering his sharp jaw line. Damn.
“Y/n Singer” I said, finding my voice again. I held my hand out for him to shake, he grabbed it firmly with a nod of his head; flashing a brilliant smile.
“Dean Winchester…I’m here about the job?”

Part 2

Doctor Hux and his serial killer boyfriend

Don’t mind me, I just got distracted with Pinterest and wanted to make an aesthetic board thing (I’ve reblogged some and seen so many that are soo good and I did a few a while back)

Idk why this au came to mind but I picture Hux to be a very stoic and meticulous doctor who also has that something not quite right vibe to him.

Kylo is a complete sociopath who takes his victims to the morgue so Hux can hide the evidence.

Kylo visits Hux during the graveyard shift to keep him company.