Polina-93

Summary: After getting into a fight with Dean the reader shares a bed with Sam which she regrets when she gets pushed out in the middle of the night.

Pairing: Dean x reader (established relationship)

Square: Bed sharing @supernatural-jackles​

Word Count: 573

Warnings: no dialogue, unrequited declarations of love, mention of an argument, kissing/cuddling, light smut, a little angst, mainly fluff

A/N: Written for @supernatural-jackles​’ Tell Me a Story bingo.

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STACKEDNATURAL ⇉ 14/327

When you're feeling alone, when you're sad, scared, lost, when you feel broken please try and remember this.

Your comfort character? Would absolutely adore you. They would think you were amazing, flaws and all. They would sit with you when you cried, they'd help you through every hardship.

They're here sweetheart, they're waiting for you, waiting for you to find the new story of your love, to revisit how you first met. They're so ready to fall in love with you all over again, and they will. Because they adore you. So please take care or yourself sweet one, they'd be so lost without you.

So what will it be tonight, friends to lovers? A/B/O? The one bed trope? Found family? Will you find eachother again after a time apart? Will it be smut or fluff? Love at first sight? Enemies to lovers? It's always exciting to start again isn't it? To rediscover how much you adore them.

I hope tomorrow is easier to live through than today, that you find that fic you're looking for, that safe place to land.

Remember your comfort character believes in you and so do I, the random girl on Tumblr, scrolling along with you, trying to make sure no one feels as alone as when they started. You are loved, matter, you are worth everything.

Summary: When you get an invite from your family to go see them you refuse because they are always on your ass about being single. So what if Dean says he will pretend to be yours?

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7*

Chapter 8

Chapter 9*

Epilogue*

A friend of a friend won a free consultation with Clinton Kelly of What Not To Wear, and she was very excited, because she has a plus-size body, and wanted some tips on how to make the most of her wardrobe in a fashion culture which deliberately puts her body at a disadvantage.

Her first question for him was this: how do celebrities make a plain white t-shirt and a pair of weekend jeans look chic?  She always assumed it was because so many celebrities have, by nature or by design, very slender frames, and because they can afford very expensive clothing.  But when she watched What Not To Wear, she noticed that women of all sizes ended up in cute clothes that really fit their bodies and looked great.  She had tried to apply some guidelines from the show into her own wardrobe, but with only mixed success.  So - what gives?

His answer was that everything you will ever see on a celebrity’s body, including their outfits when they’re out and about and they just get caught by a paparazzo, has been tailored, and the same goes for everything on What Not To Wear.  Jeans, blazers, dresses - everything right down to plain t-shirts and camisoles.  He pointed out that historically, up until the last few generations, the vast majority of people either made their own clothing or had their clothing made by tailors and seamstresses.  You had your clothing made to accommodate the measurements of your individual body, and then you moved the fuck on.  Nothing on the show or in People magazine is off the rack and unaltered.  He said that what they do is ignore the actual size numbers on the tags, find something that fits an individual’s widest place, and then have it completely altered to fit.  That’s how celebrities have jeans that magically fit them all over, and the rest of us chumps can’t ever find a pair that doesn’t gape here or ride up or slouch down or have about four yards of extra fabric here and there.

I knew that having dresses and blazers altered was probably something they were doing, but to me, having alterations done generally means having my jeans hemmed and then simply living with the fact that I will always be adjusting my clothing while I’m wearing it because I have curves from here to ya-ya, some things don’t fit right, and the world is just unfair that way.  I didn’t think that having everything tailored was something that people did. 

It’s so obvious, I can’t believe I didn’t know this.  But no one ever told me.  I was told about bikini season and dieting and targeting your “problem areas” and avoiding horizontal stripes.  No one told me that Jennifer Aniston is out there wearing a bigger size of Ralph Lauren t-shirt and having it altered to fit her.

I sat there after I was told this story, and I really thought about how hard I have worked not to care about the number or the letter on the tag of my clothes, how hard I have tried to just love my body the way it is, and where I’ve succeeded and failed.  I thought about all the times I’ve stood in a fitting room and stared up at the lights and bit my lip so hard it bled, just to keep myself from crying about how nothing fits the way it’s supposed to.  No one told me that it wasn’t supposed to.  I guess I just didn’t know.  I was too busy thinking that I was the one that didn’t fit.

I thought about that, and about all the other girls and women out there whose proportions are “wrong,” who can’t find a good pair of work trousers, who can’t fill a sweater, who feel excluded and freakish and sad and frustrated because they have to go up a size, when really the size doesn’t mean anything and it never, ever did, and this is just another bullshit thing thrown in your path to make you feel shitty about yourself.

I thought about all of that, and then I thought that in elementary school, there should be a class for girls where they sit you down and tell you this stuff before you waste years of your life feeling like someone put you together wrong.