#I wrote angsty canon Faith and Dean content a while ago and hurt my own feelings so i'm letting them be happy today

[derelictheretic]

I finally have writing for wip day huzzah

I was tagged by @adelaidedrubman @aceghosts @clicheantagonist @natesofrellis @thomrainer thank youu

Gently throwing tags at @shellibisshe @blackreaches @snake-in-the-garden @florbelles @bluemojave @ishwaris @englass @shallow-gravy @trashcatsnark no pressure <3

Fluffy Faith and Dean content in the no cult au bc I just need some fluffy nonsense in my life right now and I need to write for Faith more or I will perish

"Thank y—ou," Dean's voice breaks a bit as he shoots the server an anxious smile. Faith's eyes shoot down to her cappuccino, face heating up as she drags her thumbs along the side of the cup. As the server walks off blissfully unaware of the internal chaos they just set off Dean hastily lifts his latte to his lips and takes a sip, a pained sound escapes him immediately and he sets it down just as quickly. Faith snorts as he slaps a hand over his mouth and rests his forehead on the table.

"Are you okay dummy?" She asks, ignoring the fluttering in her chest in favour of checking on the impulsive idiot she called a friend.

"Hot," Dean whines out and despite not being able to see his face she can hear that he was sticking his tongue out as he spoke.

"No shit sherlock," She laughs, putting a hand on his back as he whines again, keeping his head planted on the table. She smiles gently, caressing the back of his neck comfortingly. Jacob was right, he really was like a big dumb puppy sometimes. And, daring herself to think about it for a second, being mistaken for his girlfriend wasn't such a bad thing. Despite the slight embarrassment and annoying way her heart was racing, she really didn't mind. She perhaps didn't mind a bit too much—but she didn't really want to think about why she didn't right now. 

Because then she'd have to think about why she really asked Dean to come on this outing with her and she wasn't quite ready for that.

Dean straightened up in his seat and her hand fell away to the table, going back to fidgeting with her cup, but her eyes stayed trained on his face as he pouted and glared down at his drink like it had personally attacked him. Those big brown eyes of his were slightly watery and Faith can't help but grin. A giggle ripples through her and he glances at her, a smile breaking through his pout as he bashfully sinks back into the booth, covering his face with his hands.

"Shut up," He murmurs, muffled by his hands as he nudges her leg with his own.

"Make me," She sings back, nudging his leg back with a bit more force. She smiles as he simply sighs into his hands, he wasn't going to do anything—he never did.

And more of the single dad!Dean au, this time a snippet of Joseph coming to talk about an incident that happened at the youth centre, some gayness but most importantly Dean loves his kids

Joseph knocks on the front door, three firm raps of his knuckles against the wood grain, before stepping back and glancing around the porch. They had a porch swing to the right, pillows and a knitted blanket thrown over it giving it a cozy feeling as it lightly swayed in the wind. To the left was three chairs and a small table, crayons and paper and novelty candle sat atop it. Joseph couldn't help but smile at an unfinished doodle of cheeseburger, he instantly recognised that it was one of Charmeine's masterpieces. She loved to draw in blue.

The door swings open and Joseph turns but his greeting dies in his throat at the sight of Dean. His hair was sticking up in every direction, brown eyes still foggy from sleep and lips set into a small almost unnoticeable pout. His eyes wander against his will and he takes in the oversized flannel draped over his broad shoulders, hanging down to his mid thighs which were bare much to Joseph's surprise. Joseph snaps his eyes back to Deans face as he hears him yawn, one hand lifting to rub sleep from his eye as he leans against the doorframe.

"Ah—Good morning, i'm sorry if it's too early I can come back later if you need," Joseph fumbles, feeling uncharacteristically flustered by the state of the other man as he steps back but stops as Dean shakes his head and waves his other hand dismissively.

"Nah it's fine come in, the kids aren't up yet," Dean drawls, his voice husky from obviously just having woken up. A small part of Joseph feels bad for waking him but it's drowned out by the spark of excitement to be seeing  inside of his home for the first time. Dean opens the door wider, stepping to the side to allow Joseph to walk in. 

"Thank you," Joseph takes his time as he steps inside, eyes trailing over the walls and taking in every photo and certificate and painting. He smiles at the sight of three sets of handprints, framed and titled and lined up beside each other on the wall. That was too precious. Dean closes the door and walks past him, heading to the kitchen. Joseph follows him but pauses to take in the living room and photos lining the mantle above the fireplace, all of Charmeine, Caleb and Ace and a few of Dean and two people Joseph didn't recognise. 

There's no tv, but there is a couch and two armchairs and also a small window seat lined with cushions set up in a way that Joseph could only assume was a reading nook. If the small bookshelf beside it had anything to say about it that was; the blanket on the ground and beanbag also was a nice touch. Joseph could almost picture Dean sitting with Charmeine in his lap, Caleb curled up on the beanbag and Ace laying on the blanket playing with toys as his Father read to them.

"Do you want a coffee or tea or anything?" Dean asks, standing in the archway to the kitchen and watching Joseph with a tired smile.

"Coffee would be lovely thank you," Joseph says, turning to offer him a grateful smile.

"How do you take it?"

"Just black is fine,"

Dean's face scrunches up and Joseph bites back a laugh, he was use to that sort of reaction but the comical expression on Dean's face was new.

"Alrighty, you can sit down wherever i'll be right back," Dean gestures vageuly around the room before dissapearing into the kitchen, opting to not say anything about his coffee preference. Joseph steps over to the couch and takes a seat, continuing to run his eyes around the room. He notes a wooden crate in the corner brimming with toys and it makes him smile; it had been attacked by crayons and a permanent marker and he could imagine the three Sinclaire children sitting together and writing on it with their father.