#her home is a room in the bunker that she can leave a hairband in for months and come back to find it bc she’s the only one who uses it

[cowboyslikedean]

i like the impala for the same reason i like the idea of dean giving claire the old leather jacket. it’s about putting all the once broken pieces together into a home with just love and trust and no weight to pass down onto anyone’s shoulders with them.

#it’s the mutual healing of it all #like i think Claire rides a fuck off motorcycle instead of driving a car and it’s almost impractical with how much she has to strap to it #but she likes the ease #and dean doesn’t get it because he’s always had the need for a car to have a roof and space and four wheels #he’s always needed it to be a home #and claire doesn’t need that because her home is Jody and donnas. her home is wherever kaia is. #her home is patience and alex and bickering at 2am #her home is a room in the bunker that she can leave a hairband in for months and come back to find it bc she’s the only one who uses it #her home is leaning against cas in the back seat of the impala after a night hunt as dean sings the words to ramble on as they drive #her home is finding all the little scraps of paper dean left in the pockets of his old leather jacket #tiny doodles and jokes and songs he heard on the radio and wants to remember #her home is rolling her eyes and calling them both old men as she and kaia beat them at pool #and it’s that generational healing that I love the idea of. the fact that peace can be passed down through healing yourself and piecing #your life back together with love in the cracks #sorry im soft #i do get why u might rather just wipe it all clean tho i do get that that’s also valid #and honestly i wouldn’t mind that either im not gonna die on a hill for the car #but currently in my head #i think he keeps it on the side #and i don’t think he stays obsessed with the car #I think it becomes more of a hobby than a compulsion #he shows jack and all the girls how to take care of an old car with it #there’s still so much comfort in its leather seats but he doesn’t need it to survive anymore #he’s now just more concerned with sharing it around #lucys ramblings #and there’s no anger at spilt cokes on the back seat #and when one of the kids takes a corner too fast the only concern is for the kid not the scratched paint #because the impala isn’t his whole life or his whole home or an embodiment of what he needs to be anymore #it’s just a vehicle to share his love

[until-theend-oftheline]

The Ikea Test

Pairing: Sebastian x Reader

Warnings: Pregnant Reader, a playful dig at Swedish people (I’m danish it’s what we do. Nothing is meant by it)    

Word Count: 1500ish

A/N: This is thought part of my LLL universe but as always it can also be read as a stand-alone. 

Betaed by: @blacktithe7 thank you, sweetie!

***My fics are not to be saved nor posted on any other sites without my express written permission.***

It had been a long day and you were absolutely exhausted as you sat in the new armchair in your daughter’s nursery. It was your own fault really. Sebastian had been willing to pay to get designer products if that had been what you wanted. It just wasn’t. 

You weren’t poor by any means but you also weren’t Beyonce or whatever Hollywood actor brought in the big bucks that the moment. You didn’t mind. New York was an expensive city to live in, but it was home to Sebastian. Truth be told you were really starting to love it too. Every street corner was starting to bring with it memories. Happy memories of a life with the sweetest, kindest man you had ever met; a man who, luckily enough, adored you as much as you did him. 

So since you weren’t looking to leave New York anytime soon you just had to think a little about how you spent your money. You still lived way above average, but you knew a baby was pretty expensive. This was why you had insisted that baby clothes didn’t need to be designer brands to be comfortable and cute. You also didn’t need a room you would only use in that form for a year or two to cost an arm and a leg. Which was why you had dragged Sebastian with you to Ikea, jokingly telling him that if your relationship could sustain a trip like that, there wasn’t anything you wouldn’t be able to weather.

Sebastian had just rolled his eyes at you, but as you had entered the maze that was the department store, he had started to see the reality of your joke. Luckily, Sebastian loved shopping with you, no matter if it was clothes for one of you or things for the house, but especially when it was for your daughter.

Sebastian had been so excited ever since the first scan, but it had taken new heights after he learned you were having a baby girl. He brought home little outfits or toys she wouldn’t be able to play with for months or years all the time. You rolled your eyes at him, but the truth was, you found it endearing. You were so happy to see how excited he was to meet her, and you loved how tactile he was with you. He always was, but the further along you got in your pregnancy, the more handsy he got. Not in a sexual way necessarily, more protective and loving. 

He was actually enjoying Ikea with you, so it wasn’t really much of a test in the typical sense. It was more a test of his sense of direction, or lack there off. Which did put your patience to a test in return. All in all, it had been an amazing day, and you had returned home with a mobile, the armchair you were currently sitting in breezing through the book of baby names, a dresser that had yet to be collected, and the crib Sebastian was sitting on the floor trying to assemble.

“How about Lea?” you asked only looking up from the book when Sebastian answered shortly. 

“No.”

You frowned, a little annoyed with his quick dismissal of the name, but you also had a hard time holding onto that anger as you looked at him. His hair was still long from playing Bucky. He was keeping it that way in case they called him back for reshoots unless he got another role that would force him to cut it. He had currently pulled it back into a small ponytail but loose strands had escaped the rubber band prison and were framing his concentrated face as he struggled with the frame of the crib. 

“You can’t just say no,” you scolded without any anger in your voice, as you extended your leg poking his side with your fuzzy socked foot. “Give me a reason why?”

“Because,” Sebastian looked up at you, blowing the hair away from his face which only helped for about five seconds. “You said you wanted her last name to be Stan.”

“Lea Stan,” you chewed the inside of your cheek, before nodding. “Yeah, that’s not gonna work. Next.”

“Honey. I’m kinda busy here,” Sebastian sighed, making you smile wider. 

“I could help you?” you offered, making Sebastian shake his head.

“No. You’ll get cold on the floor. Stay up there,” he ordered, making you roll your eyes at him. 

“Yes. Sir.”

“Sorry,” Sebastian sent you a sheepish smile, knowing how much you hated him ordering you around. It didn’t happen often. He wasn’t that kind of guy, but a few poorly chosen words at the wrong time had definitely taught him his lesson. Luckily you appeared to be in a great mood. You waved him off returning your attention to the book. 

“How about Georgeta?” Sebastian offered absentmindedly as he returned his attention to the puzzle of furniture pieces in front of him. 

“No.”

Sebastian smirked, fully expecting that answer, but he still couldn’t help but poke fun at you. 

“You can’t just say no. Give me a reason?” Sebastian mocked your voice, making you laugh and gently poke his side with your foot again. That earned a hearty laugh from Sebastian as he looked up at you with sparkling eyes. 

“Because sweetheart. As much as I love your mother and I do love her,” you assured him, making his smile widen. “I do not want our kid to get picked on all the way through high school.”

“Fair enough,” Sebastian chuckled, groaning to himself as he seemed to have lost some piece of the eventual crib in front of him. 

“What about Victoria?” you suggested, wiggling your nose in thought, not completely sold on that one yourself. 

“It’s a little posh isn’t it?” Sebastian muttered, halfway paying attention. “It there a logic to the names you are picking?”

“Yeah. I was trying to find something that could work in danish, Romanian and English. And that works with Stan, and it cute,” you listed making Sebastian laugh. 

“That’s not gonna be easy, darling,” he teased before groaning in frustration again. 

“Seb, just let me help.” You closed the book, pushing yourself toward the edge of the chair, ready to get on the floor. 

“No, stay up there. I got this,” Sebastian let go of the crib, turning to face you, putting his hands on your thighs to prevent you from moving. Just as he did, the frame of the crib fell apart in almost slow motion, landing in four different places. 

“Clearly,” you laughed as Sebastian looked over his shoulder, but stopped as soon as you realized Sebastian wasn’t even close to as amused with the whole thing as you were. 

“Goddammit,” he yelled grabbing one of the pieces and flinging it across the floor. It startled you a little since you weren’t used seeing him lose his temper like that. You flinched but quickly regained composure, wrapping your arms around his head, and he, to your relief, leaned into your embrace straight away. 

“I should be able to do this,” Sebastian mumbled, burying his face deeper into your lap, making you smile. He was frustrated, but he didn’t take it out on you. He never did. Instead, he sought comfort in you, and you suddenly realized this was another side of him you loved dearly. 

“It’s okay. Ikea is Swedish. They overcomplicate things. That’s what Swedes do,” you reassured him, running your fingers through his hair, losing the hairband.  

Sebastian looked up at you, smiling cheekily as he spoke. “Did you just insult yourself there Y/N/N?”

“I’m Danish you idiot,” you tugged his hair, making him groan a little, “not Swedish.”

The little punishment clearly hadn’t relieved Sebastian of his sudden teasing mood as his eyes kept flickering with mischief. 

“Close enough,” he smirked, causing your eyes to widen. You quickly grabbed the baby book, gently whacking him over the head with it. 

Sebastian jumped back a little, still laughing. “Hey! What was that for?”

“I don’t call you Russian do I?” you pouted, causing Sebastian to laugh even harder as he pushed himself onto his knees, moving between your legs. 

“I. Am. So. Sorry.” Sebastian spoke, punctuating each word with a small peek to your pouty lips. 

“It will never happen again,” he promised as you started to giggle at his shenanigans. 

“You’re such an ass sometimes,” you sighed, wrapping your arms around his neck, and Sebastian grinned widely, knowing he was forgiven. 

“You love my ass,” he wiggled his eyebrows, causing you to laugh and shake your head at him as he leaned in to kiss you deeply and tenderly. 

He might not be the best carpenter in the world or even remotely close to being one at all, but he made you laugh, feel happy and loved. That was all you needed, and you would just have to make sure the crib wasn’t gonna break down with your daughter in it when Sebastian wasn’t home so his feeling wouldn’t get hurt either. You didn’t need him to be able to build you anything, but if it made him happy to try, you’d gladly let him. 

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