If you want to be friends with me you don’t have to be “Hi, um, can, ya know, we be friends?”
It is 1000000000000000000000% percent ok if you just go into my inbox can go. “Man, I am so fucking pissed off at fucking Michael.” And I’ll most likely respond with, “Oh shit! What did Michael do now?“
this is such a good post because asking ppl if you can be friends can make them feel so uncomfortable but if you approach them like this its SO EASY to start a conversation and let a friendship develop naturally
hey yes anyone just hit me up anytime I will gossip and give advice and be totally supportive and non judgmental just sayin
Warnings: Cheating, talk of infertility, mild violence
Summary: Jensen never cleans out his pockets.
Author’s Note: Written for @impala-dreamer ’s Tell Me an Angsty Drabble Challenge. I needed something to motivate me and this idea smacked me between the eyes. Please note this is a work of fiction and if you can’t remember that while reading, please fuck off. You don’t own Jensen, Danneel does. Don’t police me.
Receipts in pockets, you were always finding receipts in Jensen’s pockets when you did laundry and after ten year together it made you crazy. The pair of jeans you held in your hands however did not have a receipt in the pocket.
Your thumbs smoothed over the glossy photo in your hand, a 3D imagine of a baby’s face staring back up at you. Along the top of the image were size measurements but also details about the baby. 32 weeks and 4 days; a girl.
“What is this?” you whispered to yourself. The ultrasound didn’t make any sense to you. You weren’t pregnant, a fact that had hunted you for the last 5 years of trying to get pregnant with your husband.
With you bottom lip worried between your teeth, you stared at the image until you were startled by the deep timber of your husband’s voice.
“Hey babe, have you seen my….” He stopped short, his olive stare locking on the picture in your hand. “Baby, I can explain.”
Those four words were enough to have your heart shatter in your chest and tears cloud your eyes.
“She’s yours.” It wasn’t a question and Jensen dropped his head in shame.
“Ash and I, we never meant for this to happen.”
“Ashley? My best friend? The one I threw a baby shower for last weekend?” Your voice cracked and you shook your head in disbelief. “How long-when-oh god.” Bile rose in your throat and you fought it back pressing the backside of your hand to your mouth, the baby photo fluttering to the ground.
Jensen stooped down to retrieve the picture, standing slowly and trying to close the gap between you but you stepped away, your back hitting the wall next to the dryer.
“Don’t. Don’t touch me.” You wrapped your arms around yourself, tears freely starting to fall from your stinging eyes. A thousand thoughts ran through your mind making it hard to pick just one. “How did this happen? Was I not enough? Because I can’t get pregnant? Why, Jensen? Why?!”
The raise in your voice made him flinch and tears started tracking down his own cheeks.
“It’s not you. Y/N, I swear you did nothing wrong. I love you.”
“Nice way to show your love,” you hiccuped.
“We didn’t mean to do this. It just happened. Working all last summer at the brewery together, taste testings, it just happened. I’m sorry baby, please forgive me.”
“Last summer? You’ve been, since last summer!” Rage bloomed hot in your belly and you struck out at Jensen, your fists making contact with his chest in a blur of useless punches, your vision swimming behind tears of grief. “How could you? How could you? I loved you. You said you loved me. You promised me!” Your arms grew heavy and Jensen caught you as you sagged forward in exhaustion.
Pairing: Jensen x Reader Words: 919 Requested by @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester:
Can I make a request where the reader is having a rough day/week and
when Jensen comes home he reads to her and all around fluff?
A/N: Do NOT post my writing on any other site. Do NOT take credit for my work. Do NOT copy and paste. A/N: Reblogs are perfectly fine…because that’s still giving me credit for the work I did. A/N: If you want tagged, send me an ask. (Tumblr won’t let me tag everyone because my blog is marked explicit….so, I’ll add you to the list, but it may not let me tag you)
Jensen’s Point Of View
When I got
home from filming, I was surprised not to find Y/N downstairs waiting for me.
She normally greeted me when I got home. So, I was a little worried that
something was wrong.
“Y/N?” I
called out, not sure where to start looking for her, “Sweetheart, where are
you?” I asked.
“Up here,”
she called back. She sounded off. I didn’t like that at all.
I took the
stairs two at a time and hurried into our bedroom, finding my wife curled up on
the bed. It was still made, but she was curled up with one of her favorite
fleece throw blankets, “Hey,” I said softly.
“Hi.” She
looked up at me, but I could see that she wasn’t feeling herself.
“What’s
wrong?” I walked to the bed and sat on the edge, putting my hands on her thigh,
“Are you sick?”
“No,” she
groaned, “It’s just been a really long week. And today pretty much sucked. And
I’m just feeling sorry for myself.”
“Oh,
Honey,” I sighed, “I’m so sorry.”
“I’m sorry
I didn’t cook dinner,” she said, “I just … I couldn’t do anymore today. I’m
sorry, J.”
“Baby,
don’t worry about it. I’ll order takeout. We’ll eat in bed. And we’ll just
relax together. The weekend will be better. You don’t have to do anything. And
I’ll make sure you get to just veg out.”
to all the content creators out there who spend hours, days or weeks working on a project only for no one to appreciate it, who feel uninspired and frustrated, who believe they aren’t talented or that they are worthless - please keep going; it’s okay to take breaks, but don’t completely give up your craft: whether they let you know it or not, there are always people who appreciate what you make, and most importantly, remember to make things for yourself - the number of notes you receive does not reflect your self-worth or your talent
Warnings: It’s angsty and has a couple coarse words but nothing else I can think of.
Word Count: 513 words
A/N: Hey everyone! This is my entry for @iwriteaboutdean‘s 1.3k Followers Challenge, once again congratulations on achiving such a big milestone. My song was “Should’ve Been Us” by Tori Kelly and a prompt which you’ll see in bold.
Gif obtained from Google. All credits to its owner.
Thanks for reading <3
______________________
“What am I doing? That’s a really good question – I don’t really know the answer to it… it feels like a misrepresentation or something like that, you know?” you said, pain tainting your voice and your breathing getting faster, the engines in your head spinning a hundred miles per hour as you threw your few belongings to the bag that sat next to Sam on the bed. “God, I’m such an idiot! It should’ve been us! All this time I thought he was talking about me, planning this date for me and yeah, we fight a lot and disagree most of the time but I thought despite it all he felt the same way I do. I helped him plan the whole night out, I got dressed up and all I got was my heart messed up because I was too blind to see the reality, I was too blind to realize he would never date me” Tears threating to fall down your face as you spoke, making your vision blurry. You finished packing your things and started pacing around the room when you tripped over the cheap carpet on the floor, regaining your balance with the help of the wall you kicked your high heels away and stood on the floor with your bare feet now.
“Wait, what? I also believed the date was to take you out, not some other chick” said Sam as he stood up from the bed. “Are you serious?”
“I am Sam. He took her to my favorite restaurant and he ordered for her my favorite bottle of wine and he chose for her my favorite meal. I helped him plan the whole night out because I was so sure he was going to ask me out but no, it all was for another girl. I didn’t even know he had met someone else, he only kept repeating it was for someone special. I fell for him, hard, even though he drove me mad, I thought we coulda been the perfect storm but I was just being foolish, he doesn’t feel that way about me. Now I’m pretty sure things hasn’t change between us, I’m now sure he still barely tolerates me but he asked for this truce because I’m the only girl around to ask advice to” you said, a small sigh scaping your lips. “You know I have to go, right?”
“I know, I just wish you could stay but if this will make you feel better, then I support your decision. Please, call when your somewhere safe, ok? I will miss you, don’t become a stranger”
“Of course no, Sammy. We’re family” you said as you reached for him, your arms around his waist as you hugged him goodbye, a small kiss on your head making your heart sting, you were going to miss him too.
You grabbed your bag and your heels and stepped out of the room, the cool air of the night hitting your face. You walked to your car without looking back, the burden in your heart already too much.
