this little house!!!!!

new fic new fic NEW FIC

A Place and A Feeling – realtor!Cas/house-hunting!Dean, 24k, CUTENESS OVERLOAD

Summary: Human AU. Dean Winchester still hasn’t found the perfect little house in the suburbs he’s always dreamed of. On the off-chance that another meeting with his totally adorkable realtor could finally change everything, Dean keeps going back to Castiel’s agency. Like Cas always says, home is both a place and a feeling. But what if the place Dean’s looking for is Castiel’s house, and the feeling is Castiel himself? 

Sometimes the most unprofessional choices lead to the most enjoyable personal consequences. This is one of those times.

also desk sex, Cas in glasses, and DOMESTIC GROSSNESS which is what we’re all here for right

read on AO3

We say, here are human beings, united in a society. All feel the need of living in healthy houses. The savage’s hut no longer satisfies them; they require a more or less comfortable solid shelter. The question is, then: whether, man’s capacity for production being given, every man can have a house of his own? and what is hindering him from having it?

And we are soon convinced that every family in Europe could perfectly well have a comfortable house, such as are built in England, in Belgium, or in Pullman City, or else an equivalent set of rooms. A certain number of days’ work would suffice to build a pretty little airy house, well fitted up and lighted by gas.

But nine-tenths of Europeans have never possessed a healthy house, because at all times common people have had to work day after day to satisfy the needs of their rulers, and have never had the necessary leisure or money to build, or to have built, the home of their dreams. And they can have no houses, and will inhabit hovels as long as present conditions remain unchanged.

As you see, we proceed contrary to economists, who immortalize the so-called laws of production, and reckoning up the number of houses built every year, demonstrate by statistics, that the new built houses not sufficing to meet all demands, nine-tenths of Europeans must live in hovels.

—  The Conquest of Bread, Pëtr Kropotkin
And you know what? Maybe I’m okay with mediocre. Maybe I don’t need to change the world. Maybe I don’t need to become a billionaire or climb Mount Everest or discover a cure for cancer. Maybe it’s okay if I’m average. If I have a little house on a quiet street with a nice husband and two kids. If I can work a 9 to 5 job and drive carpool and bake cookies for soccer games. Maybe I don’t need action and adventure, to hike through jungles and dives through reefs. Maybe I want peace and quiet, a good book and a warm cup of tea and the comfort and safety of freshly washed sheet. Maybe average is okay, a slow paced life that is consistent and predictable and unwavering, brunches and afternoon naps and lazy Saturday mornings spent by the TV. Don’t get me wrong, I think there are people out there who are destined for great, big, marvelous things. But maybe it’s okay if I’m not one of them.
—  f.a.w

My little brother loves Pettybone like she’s his own child and it’s the purest thing in the world ok. His senior yearbook is going to get these pictures to select from and there are going to be casualties from the sheer amount of love in this kids heart. 
His beard’s still a work in progress but Pettybone was literally climbing all over him 5 seconds later so I think some of it was rubbed off from cat snuggles.

I’m so proud ok, my little bro is going to graduate this year ok. He’s so good.

when your baby, the stan to your stackie, your cupcake, the grumpy lady you love the most asks you to write something for her, you can’t say no.

Originally posted by pixelrey

Adam sighed in exhaustion and pinched the bridge of his nose. He opened his eyes again to take in the scene in front of him. There was a tiny little house; literally the tiniest house he had ever seen in his entire life, and next to the open door, a woman was welcoming him to come inside. Well, not any woman. His longtime girlfriend Raissa, smiled widely as she showed him her new acquisition.

“Are you serious?” He managed to ask after a few minutes in complete silence. “You’re not messing with me?”

“You’ll be surprised!” Raissa squealed in excitement. “This can be Mr. Weasley’s tent.” She reminded him in a matter-of-factly voice. Adam rolled his eyes at the show-off and dork-ish comment.

She had seen the tiny houses before and she always loved them. She had gotten the number of a small company that built these house, and she was not considering to live in one, but more like a prank to him. The house wasn’t very big; if anything, it was just a bit taller than Adam, but for Raissa it was perfect.

She pulled him inside, making sure he wouldn’t hit his forehead with the doorframe and the house seemed even tinier on the inside. Everything was on its place, and it was quite neat, but if Adam could describe it somehow, probably was like the interior of a hobbit-hole but only over the surface.

“Remind me again why did you get this tiny little house?” He asked, trying really hard not to be exasperated. “I mean, just take a look at the second floor, I’ll hit my head all the bloody time, don’t you think?”

“Then be on your knees all the time?” Raissa teased back. “This is gonna be fun! We’re gonna live here, together; test the waters to see if we can actually live together?”

“Raissa, for the love of all that’s holy, I can’t live in this hobbit-hole. I am a freaking ent! You’re the hobbit than can live here!”

“Stop being so bloody grumpy,” the brunette girl wrinkled her nose, “you’re starting to look like Kylo.”

“Oh am I?” He raised his hand and tried to summon her with his powers. Raissa faked that she was being drawn to him and wrapped him in her arms once she got to him. “I love you, half pint.” He smiled fondly as he leaned in to kiss his lover’s forehead. “Even though you got us a matchbox house.”

“I know you do.” She giggled, and got on her tippy toes to gently press her lips on his.

with love for @imaginedaily (as if our friendship could get any more gay than this)

In Haste: A Mercy Street Fanfic

Relationships: Emma Green/Frank Stringfellow (past) Emma Green/Henry Hopkins
Tags: Unplanned Pregnancy, Marriage of Convenience, Friends to Lovers, Alternate Timelines


Emma’s early interlude with Frank has had some different (and unexpected) consequences, and help comes from a similarly unexpected place.
(An alternate timeline for Season 2)

Chapter 3: Chafing under her mother’s restrictions, Emma goes to Mansion House to hear Henry preach.

It could not be a usual courtship, shortened, as it was, by the urgency of things. The banns would be called for three weeks in the much diminished parish of Saint Paul’s, after it was agreed that Henry’s little flock at Mansion House did not quite count as a ‘home parish’ for either of them, which gave them three weeks to do the work of a year - three impossibly short weeks comprised of stolen hours and hurried minutes, squeezed in between Henry’s daily work and Emma’s preparations for the wedding. Mrs. Green had decided at last that they would be married from the parlor, and had acquiesced on the matter of Henry’s friend Reverend Simpson to perform the rite, though she would not budge on the matter of Emma’s gown. 

Read more on AO3!

Founders Aesthetics

March 20: Hufflepuff

March 21: Slytherin

March 22: Gryffindor

March 23: Ravenclaw

((OOC: In honor of each Hogwarts House Day this week, here are some Aesthetics for the beloved Founders))

🎶 you raise me uuuuup 🎶




Y o u   m i g h t   b e l o n g   i n   H u f f l e p u f f …



don’t worry brother, i got ‘chu.
      you just call on me brother, i’ll mop up your piss!


I don’t know if anyone else is into AHS, but I’ve been watching Murder House today, and it’s official - I’m in love with Tate Langdon 🙊👻

I made these just because I was a little bored, and I needed a new lock screen for my phone 🎃 If anyone uses these, please reblog or message me ❤️