like christmas dates

anonymous asked:

rose/clara for the holiday drabble thingyyy

“Does this work for your family’s get together?” Clara asked, running her fingers through her hair as she stepped out of the ensuite. “I know it’s a fancy shindig and most of the women will be in dresses but I like this better than the one I brought.”

Rose barely kept her jaw from dropping when she looked up from doing her makeup to see Clara clad in a purple suit, tie loose around her neck. “Oh, um, yeah, you look perfect.”

Clara’s grin was bright. “Thanks! How much longer until we have to leave?”

“Fifteen minutes.”

“Just enough time to finish putting on my face,” Clara declared, stepping back into the bathroom. “You think your family will buy it? Us as a couple?”

“I don’t think there will be any trouble,” Rose said. Except maybe me having trouble keeping my hands off of you in that suit, she thought.

She’d invited her best friend to her family’s holiday get together so she would have someone to hang out with and to avoid all the questions about her non-existent love life at the ripe old age of twenty six. She just hadn’t counted on the small crush she’d nursed for the last year crashing to the forefront of her brain as soon as the idea of Clara-as-girlfriend was put into practice.

Rose slicked on her lipstick, smacking her lips together once it was on. She could do this. She just had to get through this party, this weekend and then things could go back to normal.

depeche mode announcing UK winter tour

depeche mode announcing UK winter tour when i have no money

right where we are

CS fake dating AU.

(Because I was watching this movie on Netflix and I heard ‘Thinking Out Loud’ on the radio and proceeded to listen to it on repeat for 4 days.)

(Also because Christmas.)

(Enjoy whatever this is.)

            It’s possibly one of the stupidest things she’s ever done—and she’s done a lot of stupid things.

            But let’s start at the beginning.

            It begins at the Labor Day picnic—because Storybrooke is like some sort of real life version of Stars Hollow, featuring her mother as Taylor Doose, so of course there’s a town wide picnic for Labor Day that her mother insists she drive up for—

            And of course her lack of romantic relationship comes up (when does it not anymore?), and it’s more of that sad smile from her mother, with a half hopeful, trying really hard, “You’ll find someone, Emma,” and then reassuring hugs from her father.

            And this year she gets it from cousin Regina, too—formerly the evil queen of town, practically, all sharp edges and sharp smiles, bitter and angry and full of scathing—but sometimes funny—remarks at the holidays—who is now happily engaged to a widowed lumberjack with a five year old. She’s happier than Emma’s ever seen her, which is great—Emma’s all about happy endings—but even she gets all, “Still no one?”

            And Emma bristles.

            “Yep,” she grinds out, smiling tightly. “Just me.”

            And then Regina had patted her on the arm and smiled condescendingly—and she may have meant well, Emma will grant her that—

            The point is, she didn’t drive up to Maine for the damned Labor Day picnic to be fussed over and pitied by her family for her lack of boyfriend.

            (Which is a choice, dammit.)

            The point is, when she gets back to her apartment in Boston she pulls out a bottle of wine and considers her life and her choices and her relationship track record and the holidays—

            And she’s maybe a little bit drunk and maybe feeling a little bit spiteful, which is how she comes to draft an ad seeking a fake relationship for the Christmas season.

            (She must have been drunk, because not only did she write the ad—she posted it.)

Keep reading

on irl gachas, my luck give me zuras

anonymous asked:

I'm sure Freeform would announce it officially if this was real because they wouldn't want to risk their viewership going down by changing the date and then not saying anything lol this might be fake but I don't know

Like I said, TV Time is a pretty accurate and a somehow reliable source. They’re pretty up to date with every show they have there and I do think this could be real. Freeform hasn’t announced anything yet, but that doesn’t mean they won’t. 

Again this could be real and obviously we should wait for a official statement from Freeform, but I trust the app. A while ago I was checking how many days were left until April 3rd and it said a hundred and something and now suddenly changed… It’s pretty weird. But still, we don’t have any official confirmation, so let’s see. :) It’s a 50/50 chance. 

The Surprise

Originally posted by acklesjensen

Summary: Dean has a surprise for your week off between jobs. 
Word Count: 2095
Warnings: Perhaps a wee bit of a cliffhanger at the end. Don’t hate me.

Your name: submit What is this?

You took a good look around the day room at the station that had been your home-base for several years now. This was your last twenty-four-hour shift with the next county over from yours; after a relaxing week off, you would start work with Ethan in your own county. Twelve hour shifts were certainly still taxing, but you were looking forward to going home every night, whether it was to your bed or Dean’s, and not spending the whole of your first day off sleeping when the rotation came around.

Dean was excited, too. He tried not to mention it often, but whenever you mentioned it, you could see the excitement bubble up in his eyes. He had a surprise for you the week you were off – told you in no uncertain terms that you were to not make any plans until he told you otherwise. You still had no idea what the surprise was, but you weren’t about to prod it out of him. Not after he seemed so proud about whatever it was that he had set up for you.

After work, you went home to sleep for a few hours before waking up and cleaning house and getting ready for Dean to come over for lunch. If you weren’t working, you and Dean had made a habit out of spending Saturdays together, even if it meant lazing around one house or the other together.

You pulled on a pair of comfortable jeans and a loose t-shirt before pulling your hair into a messy bun. The weather was unseasonably warm, so you turned off the heater and opened up the window in the kitchen.

Dean let himself in, yelling for you as he came in with a couple of bags on his arm. “In the kitchen, babe?”

“Yeah, in here,” you called back, pouring each of you a glass of lemonade. “What’re we making for lunch?”

He set the bags on the counter and grabbed your hand, twirling you once before pulling you against his chest. He leaned close and smiled. “Hello.”

“Hey they, Sparky,” you greeted, going up on tiptoe to kiss him. “Answer my question, please. I’m starving!”

Dean chuckled softly before leaning close to your ear. “Hamburgers.”


“Pasta salad.”

“The kind I like?”

“Bacon ranch, with the shells.”

“You’re amazing.”

“There’s more.”

“Tell me.”

“Have I ever told you that your love of food makes me love you more?” He kissed you once more before releasing you. “I also have one of those Dutch apple pies from the freezer section that you love, so you should preheat the oven.”

You eyed him suspiciously. “You got all my favorites – what’s going on?”

Dean shrugged as he pulled down different spices to prepare the hamburgers. “Just wanted to bring my girl all her favorites.”

“Dean Winchester,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Come on. Out with it.”

Rolling his eyes at your impatience, Dean started work on the hamburgers. “I kind of took a leap of faith and made plans for us on your week off.”

You raised your brow and mentally guessed on lots of time working on the TransAm. “Oh, you did?”

Dean nodded. “I know it’s starting to warm up here, but I’m thinking we need to be somewhere even warmer. Lots of sun, the beach … you in a bikini.”

“Oh, Sparky, what have done?”

He turned to you, lacing his fingers through yours, with a proud smile on his face. “I booked us a trip to Florida for a few days. We can get away, just the two of us. Enjoy the time off together. I’ll spoil the shit out of you, too.”

“So romantic – well, except for the cursing part,” you chuckled. “Count me in.”

“Really?” Dean grinned. “You’re not mad that I didn’t talk to you first?”

You shrugged, pulling away and going for a pot to boil the pasta in. “I mean, I wouldn’t say that I’d enjoy you making it a habit or anything, but this really is an amazing gesture, Dean. I’m excited. When do we leave?”

“Monday morning. And Y/N – I mean it when I say I’m going to spoil you. So be prepared.”


Dean wasn’t kidding. He drove the two of you over to the airport Monday morning, albeit a little too early for your liking. It was the first Monday of Spring Break, and you figured the airport would have been busier; when you mentioned it to Dean at the check-in counter, the employee there told you that most of those flights had gone out the previous Thursday or Friday.

“Lucky us,” Dean smiled, taking his ticket from her before dropping both of your bags at the luggage area.

An hour later, the two of you were airborne. You hated flying – couldn’t believe how at ease Dean was with it, as though he were riding in a car down the highway.

“I know you’re not crazy about heights, I don’t know how you handle flying,” you sighed, white-knuckling the arm of your seat when the plane hit a patch of turbulence.

Dean pried one of your hands from the seat and held it between his own. “In another universe, I suppose.”

After a short lay-over in Atlanta and another bumpy plane ride, you finally found yourself safe on the ground in Florida, Dean at your side. You two picked up a rental car, checked into the hotel. You wanted desperately to go to the beach – which was directly behind your hotel – but the gray clouds overhead hindered that activity.

“I should have checked the forecast better,” Dean sighed, dropping down to the bed.

“Nonsense,” you assured him, kicking off your shoes and snuggling under the covers. “I’m sleepy from our flights. Let’s take a nap – we can open that slider a bit and let in the ocean breeze. Unless the storm gets crazy, it’ll be nice to hear the waves crashing and whatnot.”

Dean studied his phone a little more. “Forecast only calls for light showers.”

“Perfect,” you smiled as he opened the heavier slider, leaving the screened portion closed. “We can check out that balcony view later.”

“It’s pretty good.” Dean slid into bed next to you, pulling you close. “Thank you for coming on this trip with me.”

“Thank you for a vacation that’s already been wonderful,” you beamed back, kissing him sweetly before drifting off to a peaceful nap.


When the two of you woke, clouds still threatened to drop more rain on the land below, but it sure wasn’t going to keep you holed up in that hotel room for long. You took a quick shower before letting Dean have the bathroom to do the same. The dress you picked out to wear was a white spaghetti strap number, with pretty wildflowers printed along the bottom of the skirt. You left your hair down to fall into its natural waves, and slipped into some red sandals. Just as you were finishing your light make-up, Dean emerged from the bathroom, his hair perfectly tousled, and wearing a green polo that brought out his eyes, and khaki shorts.

“Well, look at you, pretty girl.” He leaned down to kiss you. “Let’s do a little exploring before we find somewhere to eat dinner. What do you say?”

“Sounds perfect,” you agreed.

Thanks to a suggestion from the gentleman at the hotel’s front counter, you and Dean followed directions to a small district towards the middle of the city. There were street vendors, small shops, and plenty of restaurants to choose from for supper. The two of you ducked in and out of almost every store, took in the wares of most of the vendors, and finally settled on a place to eat.

“This is excited, our first trip together,” you gushed while the two of you waited for your food. “Seriously, Dean, you have no idea how much this all means to me.”

“Anything for you,” Dean promised, running his thumb over the back of your hand. It sent chills up and down your spine.

You bit your bottom lip, then pretended to look around at the restaurant’s décor. In reality, you were trying to compose your thoughts. Physically, your relationship with Dean had gotten more and more heated as time went on – and not necessarily gradually, either. The temptation to sneak down to the basement those few days you spent with Mary had been almost overwhelming, but you held on to your respect for Dean and his family and stayed put. The last few days, however, every touch that held even a hint of intimacy had your stomach full of butterflies, and the rest of your body aching with anticipation.

It wasn’t that you wanted to jump right to that. You were just so in love with this man, and the deeper in love you fell, the more you had the urge to share that intimacy with him.

“I think I lost you,” Dean chuckled, squeezing your hand. “Come back to me, Y/N.”

You giggled, but then let your eyes meet his in a coy gaze. “I could never leave you, Dean. You’re it for me.”

“Likewise,” he half-smiled across the table. His eyes reflected the lighting of the restaurant, but you knew the look he gave you was more than just mood-lighting – it was Dean feeling exactly the same as what you were feeling.

You were nervous the rest of supper, but tried not to let it show. When the meal was done, Dean walked with you back to where the rental was parked. He kept his fingers laced with yours, and kept his body as close to you as he could without interrupting your steps. In the car, he kissed the back of your hand.

Okay, you thought to yourself. Is this going to happen now? There was the look – damn. Why am I so nervous?

Because he’s the one, your heart reminded you.

And you knew it was true. Everything had to be perfect, because your love with Dean was perfect. You almost felt like you were losing your virginity all over again.

A few fat raindrops hit the windshield as Dean directed the car towards the hotel; by the time the car was parked in the lot, it was a straight downpour of the same fat raindrops. You bit your lip and looked up at the sky.

“I don’t think it’s going to stop anytime soon, Sparky,” you sighed.

“I think you’re right,” Dean agreed, turning off the ignition and leaning back in his seat. “Do we wait here a bit, or head inside?”

You pretended to think for a moment before breaking out in a grin. “Race you up to the room! Loser buys breakfast!”

You heard Dean yell after you, but all you could do was laugh as you ran, soaking wet, into the hotel and over to the elevators that would take you up to your floor. You couldn’t help but laugh a little more when the elevator doors closed just before Dean could make it.

The air inside the hotel was cold; you shivered and hugged yourself. You couldn’t wait to get out of that wet dress and into some dry, warm pajamas. The elevator dinged, signaling your floor. You walked at a normal pace to the door of the room you were sharing with Dean – and realized he had the key to the room.

“Damn it, you still beat me,” you heard from down the hall. You grinned looking over to see Dean coming from the stairway entry to the door.

“Yeah, but you have the key, so I’m not sure what I really got out of winning – oh yeah, except for breakfast,” you giggled.

Dean chuckled as he pushed the hotel door open, allowing you to go in first while he made sure the door was locked behind the two of you.

“I never would have thought you had speed like that,” Dean joked.

“I have talents you know nothing about, Winchester.”

You hadn’t mean for the statement to imply anything, but as you stepped closer to him, the implication was confirmed by the look in your eyes.

Dean looked back at you with the same implication in his gaze. His hands traveled up to your wet cheeks; he cupped your face and kissed you softly. Softly, but with a definite purpose.

“I love you, Y/N. Always.”

“I love you always. Promise.”

The kiss deepened as your tongues battled for control, and Dean’s warm hands went for the zipper on the back of your dress.

Morning After


[Kankurou climbs through Sai’s bedroom window]
K: Hey handsome, nice bed-head.
S: Who is Scrooge?
K: Just a bloke who nearly died because he never had any fun.
S: Oh. Will that be your face-paint from now on?
K: No, Naruto did this with some girl’s lipstick.
S: Ok. Is that mistletoe?
K: You know how it works right..?
S: You-
[Well you know they’re smooching, right?]

Snow says it’s (love)

Emma nods her way through Snow’s nagging, inching toward the door with every sentence from her mother. 

Just as Emma’s hand is on the doorknob, the door opens, hitting Emma’s back and causing her to stumble forward, which would have been fine except for Neal’s alphabet blocks, which tangled in her feet and sent her thumping to the ground. 

“Emma!” “Idiot.” two voices call in unison. 


Emma rolls onto her side cradling her knee and willing tears not to spring to her eyes. Owowowow.

“Oh, honey,” comes Snow’s saccharine voice. Emma hates that she thinks it, but she kind of just wants Snow to just go away

“Stop babying her,” Regina’s voice says sharply to Snow. The older woman crouches down to Emma’s level, softly removing Emma’s hand from her knee. She makes a light tsk noise with her tongue, straightening out Emma’s leg despite her protests. 

“Do grow up, dear.” Regina snaps. “If you didn’t wear jeans meant for a twelve year old, I could actually have a look at your knee now, couldn’t I?” 

Emma does her best impression of a growl, the noise belying the fact that she sort of liked being fussed over by the prickly woman. 

Regina rolls her eyes, running her fingers over Emma’s leg and pressing in different places to ensure Emma hadn’t seriously hurt anything. Satisfied, she wraps an arm around Emma’s back and a hand around her waist, pulling her up as she rose. 

“T-thanks,” Emma gets out, feeling a little lightheaded. She’s unsure of whether it was caused by getting up so quickly, or the warm hand that has yet to leave her waist. 

“Of course,” Regina says, dismissing her gratitude. Regina’s hand trails along Emma’s back before moving up the front of Emma’s coat, smoothing its wrinkled lines. She straightens the beanie on Emma’s head and tucks a lick of blonde hair behind her ear. “There,” Regina says with a degree of finality. “You don’t look like you just got swept off your feet.” 

Emma thinks perhaps that’s the sort of statement one feels affronted by. She huffs, “Sweeping? More like shoving.” 

“I’ve tried shoving, trust me,” Regina quips, sweeping by her and into the loft’s kitchen. 

What the fuck was that supposed to mean, anyway?

“Emma, weren’t you leaving?” Snow asks, Neal gurgling on her hip. 

Huh. So she was. Now she’s here in the kitchen. “You were so concerned about me two seconds ago and now you’re just kicking me out. I see how it is!” 

Snow shoots Regina a look. It should bother her that Snow and Regina give each other these kind of looks often, but she finds it kind of endearing, even if she’s not quite sure she’d like what they mean if she knew. 

Snow opens her mouth, and Emma can almost see the nags hanging off her lips. “Okay, okay. I know. Get the Turkey–25 pounds. And the flowers you ordered. And pick up the sweet potatoes.” Emma reiterates. Before Snow can open her mouth again, she quickly adds, “And ‘Don’t forget to confirm Ruby is coming,” in a slightly higher tone that ostensibly was supposed to be mimicking Snow’s voice. 

Snow nods with an approving smile and starts shooing Emma out the door with her one free hand.  

“Okay, okay. I’m going, see?” Emma huffs, shooting one last plaintive look at an unconcerned Regina before heading out the door. 

She manages to get the turkey and potatoes without much of a problem, also picking up a bottle of whiskey on a whim. Belle is tending the shop at Game of Thorns when she arrives, and is busy arranging a monstrosity of red, green and silver that Snow had undoubtedly ordered. She packages up three small brown boxes as well, sliding them over to a confused Emma.

“Mistletoe,” Belle says in answer with a sly smile. 

“No way-” 

“It’s what Snow ordered,” Belle says with a shrug.  

Emma sighs loudly. She sincerely hopes that the mistletoe isn’t for her benefit. Ever since she broke up with Hook months ago, Snow had seemed strangely insistent upon Emma ‘getting back out there’ and ‘finding her True Love.’ It had led to a number of frustrating arguments, two unexpected Blind Dates and three attempts at making Emma online dating profiles. 

“Just swipe right on one of them,” Snow had said plaintively. “For me?” Emma had swiped left in quick succession, swiping past three dwarves, Henry’s science teacher and…(vomit!) Blue. Her finger hovered over the next picture, however. The picture was definitely taken candidly, as there was a slight look of surprise on her face and a ridiculous snapchat filter giving her a princess crown and hearts. Emma had smiled, immediately knowing that Henry would have taken it, and Regina would have demanded he delete it at once. Her finger had hovered–would it be rude to swipe left on Regina? Would Regina ever swipe right on her? What if Emma did and she didn’t? Snow had looked suddenly disinterested, claiming that she heard Neal fussing, leaving Emma alone with her hovering finger. Emma deleted the app. 

“She’s just trying to help,” Belle says softly, eyes bright and knowing.

“Help? More like cause me middle school dance-level embarrassment.” 

She had always felt jealous when other kids expressed embarrassment about their parents. At least they had someone to fuss over them, to show up at school with their forgotten lunches or to chaperone school dances and field trips. To have someone care for her like that–

She would have given up almost anything. 

But Snow was certainly making up for lost time. Emma still flushes with embarrassment every time she passes Blind Date Number 2, Sebastian, on her way to Regina’s office. At least Blind Date Number 1 had been Mulan, and the two of them had been able to grab a drink and laugh over it. 

“She cares for you,” Belle responds, handing Emma the arrangement. “See you tomorrow?” 

“Yeah,” Emma responds from the forest of pine and ribbons in front of her face. “Can’t wait,” she finishes dryly. 

Emma carefully places the arrangement in her car, grumbling a little as pine needles scatter onto the seat. She pulls into a parking spot in front of Granny’s, happy to note that it was just about time for lunch. 

“Hey, Rubes,” Emma greets the waitress, sitting down on one of the squeaky bar stools. 

“What can I get ya?” the woman responds, leaning onto the counter between them. 

“The usual.” 
“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah, why?” 

Ruby tips her head in the direction of the door, bringing Emma’s attention to the arrival of one Regina Mills. “The wife’s here.” 

Emma huffs at her friend, “I told you–”

“Yeah, yeah, not to call her that. Should I sub the milkshake for a water?” 

“Yeah,” Emma grouses, kicking the wall of the counter petulantly with her feet. Regina was always commenting on her diet and not-so-subtly attempting to get her to eat ‘healthier’ for the sake of their kid. 

“Oh, hey, Rubes?” Emma asks. “Mom wanted me to make sure you were coming to Christmas Eve dinner tomorrow. Can you make it?” 

“Yes,” Ruby responds, drawing out the word. She shouts Emma’s order to Granny in the kitchen. “I already told her I was coming.” 

“Huh.” Why would Snow have her ask Ruby about dinner if she already knew she was coming?

The door opens, letting in a cold sweep of air, and suddenly, Ruby starts laughing.  

“Oh, Emma,” Ruby says, patting Emma’s hand on the counter. “Your mother’s such a shit.” Seeing Emma’s confused look, she continues, “Your mom wanted you to ask me as your date.” 

Emma’s mouth opens once and closes again, no words actually forming. 

“Date?” Regina asks, placing her purse on the counter and sliding in smoothly next to Emma. 

“Yeah, looks like I’m Emma’s Christmas date tomorrow night,” Ruby says with a wolfish grin. 

“You are?” Emma asks at the same time Regina says, “She is?” 

“Yep,” Ruby says with a roguish wink. 

Well, then.

“Anything I can get you, Madame Mayor?” 

A leash, Regina thinks angrily. “My usual,” she grits out instead.

Once Ruby has bounded away, Regina turns to Emma with an icy smile. “So.” 


“How did this occur?” she asks, gesturing between Emma and the absent Ruby. 

“You don’t want to know,” Emma grumbles. 

“Don’t I?” 

Emma hates it when Regina gets all rhetorical, mostly because she’s never quite sure how to respond. “You don’t. Trust me,” Emma sighs. There’s a few beats of silence between them. It’s far from unusual, but this time it feels…tense. “You, uh, ready for Snow’s inevitable Christmas jumpers?” 

“As ready as I am to see Henry go to college.” 

Emma snorts a little. “She can’t top last year.” The previous Christmas, Snow had gotten them matching Christmas jumpers, complete with snowmen made of pompoms and the words, ‘Baby it’s cold outside’ written in script below. Nothing like wearing the lyrics to the world’s rapiest song to get you in the Christmas spirit. 

They ended up singing it together after quite a few spiked eggnogs, much to Henry’s delight. The little shit still hadn’t deleted it off his phone, and would randomly send it to them despite their hollow threats of grounding. 

Yeah, it was a good Christmas, even despite Hook getting into a pissing match with Regina over where Emma would spend her Christmas morning. 

Emma’s glad that relationship is history.

The two eat their lunches with companionable chatter, Regina slipping fries off Emma’s plate and Emma deciding not to comment. When they ask for their checks, Ruby only comes back with Regina’s. 

“Yours is on the house,” Ruby says with another wink.

Regina, thinking of leashes again, grinds out, “Nonsense. I’ll cover it.” 

“No, really–” Emma protests.

“Not at all! It’s the least I can do for my dat–” 

“Which is tomorrow, I might add,” Regina huffs, throwing a $50 bill on the counter and shrugging on her coat as she marches out the door. 

When Emma turns back to look at Ruby, the woman is positively grinning

“Someone’s jealous,” Ruby teases, picking up the empty plates. 

“Who? Regina?” Emma asks, replaying the last thirty seconds of her life. No–Regina was just…protective about certain things. Or something. Honestly, Emma had given up trying to analyze certain aspects of Regina’s behavior long ago. “No!” 

Ruby snorts, humming out a “Mmm-hmm,” as she saunters into the kitchen.

Emma sighs, running a greasy hand through her hair. What had her mother gotten her into?



Easter; Part 1

Word Count: 760
Summary: The reader hosts Easter dinner at her house, and invites Mary to meet her family.

Your name: submit What is this?

Originally posted by acklesjensen

Easter was all about family for you. Dean was gracious enough to attend church with you and your father in the morning. After the church service was over, your father and Dean disappeared out to the garage on your land to take a look at and possibly do some work on the TransAm.

Sam and Jess were with Jess’s family all day, so you offered to host Easter dinner, and invited Mary to spend the time with your family. It would be the first time anyone from your two families would be spending anytime together, but both you and Dean were looking forward to it.

You cooked a turkey, mashed potatoes and mixed vegetables. Your sister-in-law was bringing some sort of side casserole and deviled eggs, and Mary offered to make a couple of pies for dessert.

You father and Dean still had not returned to the house when Mary arrived, right on the heels of your brother’s family.

“Mary, come in,” you greeted, hugging her tightly. “This is my brother Seth, my sister-in-law Kayla, and my handsome nephew, Eli. Guys, this is Dean’s mother, Mary Winchester.”

“So nice to meet all of you,” Mary smiled, then shook Eli’s chubby little hand. “Especially you, cutie.”

Kayla and Mary got to chatting about Eli and Sam and Jess’s little bundle of joy, so you left them to visit and picked up your phone.

Your mom’s here, Sparky.

We’re on our way back.

The reply was so instantaneous, you wondered if perhaps the two of you had sent the texts at the same time.

“Where’s Romeo?” Seth asked, leaning against the counter and watching you work.

“At the garage. Beer in the fridge, if you want one.”

“Whose idea was it for them to spend time together alone?” He went to the fridge and pulled out a beer for himself and one for you.

You frowned. “Um, Dean’s, I think. Why?”

Seth shrugged and put on that mischievous smile you’d seen thousands of times, maybe more, since he was little. “Why would he want to talk to Dad alone? Think about it, Sis.”

Groaning, you rolled your eyes. “Oh, come on. They went to look at the car. They’re both into that kind of thing, and poor Dean has had to work on it with me the whole time. I’m sure he wanted help from someone who has more than a basic understanding of engines.”

Seth shrugged again and gave you a look that said you were dense. “Whatever you say, Y/N.”


Phillip, the youngest of the three kids, arrived just minutes before your father and Dean returned to the house. You introduced Phillip to Mary and then dragged your father to where the older woman was on the floor, playing with Eli.

“Mary, this is my dad, Mike. Dad, this is Dean’s mother, Mary.”

Mary stood and shook hands with your father; while they got acquainted, you accosted Dean into the kitchen.

“Okay, listen, I have to ask this so I can stomach down some dinner,” you started. “Seth was being a little shit, like he usually is, but he kind of thought that maybe you wanted to get Dad alone at the garage so that you could – I mean, I know he’s crazy, but Seth thought that maybe you were going to – to ask Dad – ugh. I can’t even get this out.”

Dean smiled down at you before kissing you softly. “Babe, it’s all right. I get what you’re trying to say. Yes, we did discuss my intentions in this relationship, but I’m not going to be getting down on one knee anytime soon.”

You were both relieved and disappointed. “Okay. I’m sorry I had to ask.”

“Never be sorry,” Dean replied, kissing you again. “Always ask.”

You grinned up at your boyfriend, joining hands with him so the two of you could go into the living room where everyone was visiting and announce that supper was ready. The introductions had gone smoothly, and as the meal continued, it seemed that Mary was fitting into your family as seamlessly as you had fit in with the Winchesters. You had no doubt that when Sam and Jess were added to the mix, things would be just as easy.

Since the subject had come up, while you ate your pie, you allowed your mind to wander to the time when Dean would get down on one knee, and your two families would become one. It made your heart race, knowing it was something that you had to look forward to …

Easter, Part 2

Day of the dead

Hi, my name is Selah and live in Guadalajara, Jalisco México, I love “day of the dead” and I´m so sorry that many “latinos” despise the “Coco” movie 
because they believe that it is a plagiarism ( I do not know how it is said) of “the book of life”… well, in my city a movie was made, “día de muertos” is it name, still does not release becouse “Coco” won the date. But a long long long time ago the idea was stolen, the original history had to be modified, it was not “Coco”, compare this 

(image 1)…the story of a child who loves music and knows his ancestors, that showed a real and current Mexico, explain well the tradition and at the end of the credits motivates with a phrase to the public to visit my country.

(image 2) one movie full of cliches, confused the catrina with the goddess of death, and they are not the same, has more Spanish than Mexican characteristics, I do not say that the movie is bad, it has many incredible things, but we also do not forget that I stole the idea from the movie of my city, besides that the foreigners formed a bad idea of ​​what is really "the day of the dead”

(image 3) from de movie “día de muertos” from my country, Do you see any resemblance to “the book of life” rather than “Coco”? yes… I want to see but, 
I’ll have to wait for that one more year.

And festive themed movies are great, like Christmas and Valentine’s Day, dates are not owned by anyone, and as a Mexican I like to have more of this beautiful tradition.

me: shape of water looks like it’s going to be beautiful. it looks dramatic and exciting but also like it’ll probably make me cry at some point. I can’t wait f–

some asshole in the back of my head: *banging on a bass drum* FISH! DICK! FISH! DICK! FISH! DICK! FISH! DICK! FISH! D–