I didn't think it would take me that long to finish this one

cinderella: redo

so i was watching cinderella while doing my nails and waiting for them to dry which was clearly a Mistake because now i can’t help but think -

the evil stepmother was always evil, okay. say her abuse of her own daughters was different than that of cinderella’s - but it was still abuse. giving them impossible expectations, telling them they were never good enough, never pretty enough, never smart enough. and then she gets married, and anastasia and drizella are ecstatic because this man seems kind and warm and maybe just maybe he can temper their mother, maybe with him around she won’t be so cruel. so they’re on their very best behavior in the beginning, they do just as their mother taught - they trot out their best upper court manners in an attempt to get their new stepfather to like them. but it just comes off as cold and snooty and they’re trying, they are, they’re just bad at it. and they see how he is with cinderella, the smiling girl their own age, and they are jealous. they don’t mean to be, they try not to be, they know it isn’t becoming of young ladies. but she gets hugs and kisses and affection and they get rulers slapped on their hands when they reach for desert and sharp jabs to their sides when they slouch and - soon they hate cinderella, not for anything she’s done, but for what she has and they dont

but then her father dies. and it’s all a tumble of things and cinderella is crying and they’ve lost their only chance at escaping their mother’s clutches and it’s terrible. and everything settles and there’s no reason to be jealous anymore but resentment is hard to let go of and they don’t know what to do. they’re only kids too after all. and they’re so terribly bad at comforting people, they can do flowery words and know all the right bows but cinderella is so sad and they just don’t know what to do with that, because they’re supposed to be sisters but they’re not even friends

and slowly but surely their mother starts abusing cinderella, starts making her a maid in her own home, and she’s their mother, what are anastasia and drizella supposed to do? she rules them with an iron fist, and cinderella doesn’t even like them anyway, it’s none of their business.

except one night anastasia crawls into her sister’s bed in the middle of the night and wakes her up. “i was thirsty,” she explains, eyes wide and shiny, and they’re bad at this with other people but drizella has no problems with pulling anastasia into her arms. the younger girl clutches her sister and continues, “i was thirsty and i went down to the kitchen to get some water and - and cinderella is still up! she’s doing the dishes, and she should be asleep, mom is going to make her make breakfast in the morning and -” she cuts herself off with a hiccup and whispers, “it’s not fair.”

“life isn’t fair,” drizella says, echoing one of their mother’s favorite phrases. but her sister is staring at her with wet eyes, and it’s not like their mother is likely to get up before sunrise anyway, she hates waking up, so she pulls herself and anastasia out of bed and off they go.

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On February 1st John wakes up to find that Sherlock’s half of the bed is empty, and on his pillow is a single lavender rose.  He smiles softly, picks it up, and presses his nose into the petals.

The following day John finds two of the same flower, their stems cut quite short, waiting for him in his favorite mug when he goes to make tea.  He doesn’t ask Sherlock about it yet, and Sherlock acts as if nothing is different.

On February 3rd there are three lavender roses waiting for John.  One is resting in his left shoe; another is tucked inside his jacket pocket; the third he finds on the doorknob when he’s on his way out.  He puts them on his desk at work and thinks about texting Sherlock for an explanation.  But he doesn’t.  Not yet.

Four roses find their way onto the mantlepiece.

Five are found nestled in John’s chair late in the evening on February 5th.

Six are discovered the following morning, wrapped neatly together with ribbon, in the refrigerator.  Still, neither of them say a word.

It isn’t until the 7th of February–when John finds seven lavender roses, cut from their stems, floating in a bowl of water on the kitchen table–that John’s curiosity gets the better of him.  He’s not much for computers, but he knows how to use google at least.  The results make his head feel light.

Eight roses decorate the sitting room in various spots.

Nine are placed into various beakers and tubes.

Ten litter the surface of the sofa all day on February 10th.  They avoid sitting there all day, but neither of them mentions it.

On February 11th there are eleven roses lining the doorframe of Baker Street.

The 12th brings a bouquet to John’s office where he switches them out for the three that have begun to wilt but that he was unwilling to remove.

Thirteen roses hang from the ceiling of their bedroom the following day.  John isn’t quite sure how Sherlock managed that without waking him, but he lays there for almost half an hour, just watching them sway back and forth.

John comes home from work on the 14th of February and finds lavender rose petals scattered up and down the seventeen steps of 221B.  If he had to guess he would say there were enough petals for fourteen roses.  His chest constricts, and he takes the steps slowly, a small smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

He expects to find Sherlock waiting for him, but when he reaches the top he finds the door to the sitting room closed, a note taped to it.  Sherlock’s untidy scrawl reads, You know where to find me.

And John does.  He’s back down the stairs and out the door in seconds, and for once it seems he’s got Sherlock’s luck on his side as a taxi rolls to a stop when he flings out his hand.

The lab at St. Bart’s hasn’t changed much since the day they met, and it’s a bit like walking into the past when John pushes the door open to find Sherlock waiting for him in the same exact spot he had been when John had first seen him.  Only this time John isn’t limping.  And this time Sherlock is holding a single lavender rose instead of a pipette, and his gaze is soft and warm as it settles on John.

“Knew you’d get it,” he says, his eyes crinkling with his smile.

John walks toward him, taking his time even though his heart is pounding.  It’s ridiculous, he thinks, because they’ve been together for months now.  “I’m smarter than I look,” he says, unable to keep from smiling in return.  He stops about a foot away, nodding toward the rose in Sherlock’s hand.  “Isn’t that cheating?”

Sherlock shakes his head.  “You see, but you do not observe,” he says, a mischievous glint in his eyes.  He steps closer, holding the flower up between them.  “There were only thirteen on the steps.  This is number fourteen.”

John steps closer and reaches out to touch the petals, letting his hand slip down until his fingers ghost over Sherlock’s.  “I looked it up, you know. Lavender rose.”

“I know,” Sherlock says, his smile widening.  “On the seventh.  I was surprised you held out for so long.”

John can’t help laughing.  “I’m not even going to ask how you knew.”  

He plucks the rose from Sherlock’s fingers and sets it gingerly on the counter beside them, removing the delicate barrier between them so that he can step into Sherlock’s space and draw him down for a soft, slow kiss.  Sherlock’s hands cup his face, his thumbs stroking along the sharp edges of his jaw, and John clings to fistfuls of Sherlock’s shirt at his waist.

When he pulls away it’s only enough so that he can speak, and his lips brush Sherlock’s with every word.  “Love at first sight,” he whispers, and he frees one hand to touch the petals of the lavender rose beside them.  “And you always said I was the romantic.”

Sherlock kisses him again, lingering for a long, sweet moment.  “I thought you should know the truth.  The whole of it.  How long I’ve loved you.”

Something in John’s chest aches, and he spends long, drawn-out moments pressing his lips to Sherlock’s, murmuring his I love yous into his mouth, hoping that it will be enough, that Sherlock will understand that he’s been loved since the moment John saw him in this very lab so many years ago.


Later that night–after Sherlock has led them home, after John has pressed him against the sheets, after countless kisses and touches and soft, pleading words–later, they sit together in front of the fire, half-clothed, legs tangled together, and press the single lavender rose in between the pages of a heavy book.  And when they’ve finished, John takes Sherlock by the hand and leads him back to bed.

Amnesiac Lance (pt 2)

[part one]

oh boy this is gonna be really long and angsty, fair warning 

  • lance starts remembering things in dreams
  • the first time he has one of these dreams, it’s really just this vague image of his mother, and all he can recall from it when he wakes, sweaty and confused, is her kind, soft eyes. lance doesn’t really know how he gets there, but pidge finds him on the observation deck, shivering and half asleep against the control panel 
  • by the time morning wake-up time comes, the previous night is a blur

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Dog Days Are Over

Summary: You were already having a bad day, and then in walks Mr. Perfect and his best friend’s puppy. Oh, and he needs you to hurry because he’s got a blind date tonight, and he’s really nervous.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 2,993

Author’s Note: Do you know how long this has been in my drafts? Anyways, here’s more fluff. Sorry I’ve been the Ebeneezer Scrooge of fluff, but I can’t help it that I’m a cynical, angsty bitch who likes to make people suffer.

Originally posted by thespoilerwitchblog

There were certain rules to being a veterinary technician.

Number one, waterproof mascara and eyeliner always! When the customer cries, you cry. Number two, carry a lint roller on you at all times; it’s best to get the pocket-sized one, because Mr. Twinkles sheds a lot! Number three, iron your scrubs! And it’s probably best to keep an extra pair in your car, because Mrs. Comier’s Jack Russell likes to pee on people.

Even though you knew these rules by heart, and you followed them every single day of your work-life, today was an exception. It was just one of those days that absolutely nothing- no matter how hard you tried- was going right. You were covered in fluffy cat hairs, Mrs. Comier’s Jack Russell peed on your leg twice, and you had run out of waterproof mascara; so when Mr. Langley brought in his thirteen year old Labrador to put her down, he cried, and so you cried, and in the end you looked like the raccoon that liked to sneak into the office dumpsters at closing.

Today just wasn’t your day.

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The Keys

Requested: Could you maybe write an imagine where Y/N ex boyfriend brings back the house key he had for Y/N apartment and Shawn is there. But Shawn didn’t know he had a key in first place and because he never got a key he is all jealous and pissed yells at Y/N? I hope that makes sense. Really appreciate your writings! Love only!

Your name: submit What is this?

~~~

After showering, you walk back into your living room with your hair still damp, but thrown into a messy bun. Shawn is over, so the two of you are planning to have a lazy night in. Since he has some time off, you’re finally getting to spend time together. You walk into to the living room to find that Shawn isn’t there where you left him. You can hear voices coming from the hall leading to the front door. One of them you recognize immediately as Shawn’s of course, but the other one sounds familiar too, and you wonder who would be at the door. Shawn’s frame is blocking the entire doorway, so you can’t see who’s at the door, but when you get closer you can hear the other person speaking. “Can you tell her I’m sorry I didn’t call?” Your ex-boyfriend says to Shawn. As much as you want to know what the conversation is about and why he stopped by in the first place, you don’t really want to walk into a conversation between your ex and your current boyfriend, so you stop and backtrack before either of them see you.

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Damn it, I need you.

Authors Note: This was requested by the prompt:
“You need to wake up because I can’t do this without you.”  From the list of Prompts found HERE.
All prompts/ Blurbs can be found HERE
Warning: It is a bit sad, as you can assume from the sentence it started from.


He was never one to permit his emotions to show unless in the comfort of his own house, generally not even then did he grant them the opportunity to reveal very often. It was on rare occasions that you ever saw a tear escape from his precious eyes.

From the moment he received the call his body was diverted into an emotional panic state, he didn’t care that he was in the middle of signing his new contract; he didn’t care that it was impolite to answer the phone call. The minute he sensed his phone ringing he had an inkling something was wrong, something about the morning just wasn’t settling right with him.

He had left you this morning snuggled up to the warmth of the bed, he admired you peacefully sleeping, the way your hair fell messily around you, the way your hand stayed nestled under the pillow, and the way you bury yourself amongst the covers.

He had spent a little too long appreciating you this morning, he just couldn’t help it. When he did manage to wrench himself away from watching you peacefully sleep, he pressed to kiss to your forehead, whispering a swift “I love you” before forcing himself to leave the bedroom, gathering his things from downstairs before leaving to attend his meetings.

The whole way to the hospital all he could do was repeat the same sentence over and over again, “Please be okay, please be okay.” trying to hold himself together but failing as he shakes while trying to compose a text message to his sister. She was the one who always seemed to know what to do, additionally, she was also two hours closer than his Mum.

He did his best to hold it together while pacing around the waiting room, wearing the floors’ thin as he chews his lip, circling the small area without stopping to think twice. He didn’t know what to do, there was nothing for him to do but to wait for a doctor to tell him what was going on. There was nothing he wanted more than to know that you were okay, he needed comfort, he needed the reassurance that this morning wasn’t the last time that he would be able to admire you while you slept, he needed to know that all the plans the two of you had made weren’t going to be nothing but unaccomplished plans.

His eyes meet his sisters when she steps into the holding area, he doesn’t say a word, he just glances at her like a child who desperately needs to be held for a while. She doesn’t think twice before forcing him into a hug, his taller figure towering over her as she wraps her arms around her little, (not so little), brother. The minute he felt her warmth and comfort he allowed his emotions to flow, for the tears to finally settle, the tears he had been holding in since he got the call.

“I just want to know everything is okay. I knew something was wrong with the morning, but I didn’t think—I didn't—” He stutters, struggling to finish his sentence through his tears. “I didn’t think we’d end up here.” He chokes on his own words.

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Sixth Queen Theory

Lauren is theorising again. Duck for cover people this will not end well. But I was having some Thoughts about the mystery sixth queen. I think the biggest theory for this so far is that she’s Feyre’s mother and I just…Can’t quite get on board with that, there’s something about it that bothers me. SO. Here is an alternative: 

‘I said, “Where is Father?” It felt like the only safe thing to say.
“In Neva,” Nesta said, naming one of the largest cities on the continent. “Trading with some merchants from the other half of the world. And attending a summit about the threat above the wall. A threat I wonder if you’ve come back to warn us about.” 

This is what Nesta says about her father’s absence when Feyre returns to her sisters in ACOMAF. But later on Feyre says this: 

“My father is away on business—and attending a meeting in Neva about the threat of Prythian.”
“Prythian?” Cassian said, twisting toward us. “Not Hybern?”
“It’s possible my sisters were mistaken—your lands are foreign to them. They merely said ‘above the wall.’ I assumed they thought it was Prythian.”

“Where is the sixth?”

The ancient queen, her blue gown heavy and rich, merely said, “She is unwell, and could not make the journey.” 

 In the letter the golden queen leaves for Rhys and the others she says this: 

Do not trust the others. The sixth queen was not ill.’ 

This is obviously what sparked the speculation but I don’t think the queen is Feyre’s mother and secretly stayed away for that. I think she was at that convention in Neva. And I think it was about the threat of Prythian. Not Hybern. Why bring that up again if not to hint at that idea? I think even then the queens were working with Hybern and Jurian. 

 “Because the King of Hybern is indeed about to launch a war, and he wants to resurrect Jurian to do it.”

Jurian—the ancient warrior whose soul Amarantha had imprisoned within that hideous ring as punishment for killing her sister. The ring that contained his eye …

[…]

Mor groaned, “Why would the king want to resurrect Jurian? He was so odious. All he liked to do was talk about himself.”

 Why indeed did the king want to resurrect Jurian? The answer was that he became an emissary to the queens. 


“You made a very big mistake,” the king said to Rhysand, my mate’s arms banded around me, “the day you went after the Book. I had no need of it. I was content to let it lie hidden. But the moment your forces started sniffing around … I decided who better than to be my liaison to the human realm than my newly reborn friend, Jurian? He’d just finished all those months of recovering from the process, and longed to see what his former home had become, so he was more than happy to visit the continent for an extended visit.”

Indeed the queens smiled at him—bowed their heads. Rhys’s arms tightened in silent warning.

“The brave, cunning Jurian, who suffered so badly at the end of theWar—now my ally. Here to help me convince these queens to aid in my cause. For a price of his own, of course, but it has no bearing here. And wiser to work with me, my men, than to allow you monsters in the Night Court to rule and attack. Jurian was right to warn their Majesties that you’d try to take the Book—that you would feed them lies of love and goodness, when he had seen what the High Lord of the Night Court was capable of. The hero of the human forces, reborn as a gesture to the human world of my good faith. I do not wish to invade the continent—but to work with them.

 I feel like this all but proves this theory. We know that there is a summit happening in Neva, on the continent, that Feyre’s father attended to consider the threat that Prythian presents. We know that the Sixth Queen was missing during this time as well. We know that Jurian was sent as an emissary to the queens and that he visited the continent for an extended period of time. He was with the sixth mortal queen and those on the continent convincing them to ally with Hybern and go to war against Prythian. 

TL;DR: The queens were always working for Hybern and the Sixth was away not due to illness but because she was on the continent working to turn those people against Prythian and have them ally with Hybern. 

(I’m definitely making another post about Jurian because that….Is going to be relevant in ACOWAR and no-one is really talking about it that much but it scares me.) 

  • Ghira: Honey. Yang. We're back. *Ghira called out as he and Blake entered the Belladonna home.*
  • Blake: We brought you some dessert from the sto-Yang! *Blake started to call out as she and father entered the living only to find her girlfriend laying on the couch with a bandage around her head as Kali gently placed an Ice pack on her head. It didn't take Blake look to rush over to her love's side to see if she was okay.* Yang? Yang, Sweetie? Are you okay?
  • Kali: Calm down, Blake. Yang is fine. She just has a little bump on her head is all. The doctor said all she needs is some rest. *Kali told her daughter as she comforted her.*
  • Ghira: I don't understand. What happened while we were at the meeting?
  • Kali: Well... *Kali began, thinking back to earlier.*
  • ~Flashback~
  • Yang: Excuse me, Mrs B? Sorry to bother you but the spire bathroom is out of towel. Can I grab one from your? *Yang called out while she knocked on door to Blake's parents bathroom door, waiting a moment listening for Kali to reply as music played from the other side of the door.* Mrs B? *Yang asked again knocking slightly louder.*
  • Kali: Huh? Yes? Is that you Yang? *Kali questioned through the door, the music's volume lowering.*
  • Yang: Yeah It's me. Sorry about this but can I barrow a towel? The other bathroom doesn't have any.
  • Kali: Oh of course dear. You can come on in and get them, I'm wearing a robe. There in the closet to the left.
  • Yang: Okay cool. *Yang smiled, opening the door slightly to pock her head to to find Kali was indeed wearing a robe as she sat on the edge of the bath before enter, Keeping her eyes casted downward.* Pardon my interruption.
  • Kali: Oh there's no need to apologize, Yang. I was just finish up her myself. *Kali smiled as she pointed to the closet.* Anyway, the towels are on the left. Help yourself.
  • Yang: Thanks Mrs B. *Yang said quickly moving to the closet and opening it, spotting the towels right away and grabbing two.* Sorry again for walkinnNOHMYGOD! *Yang suddenly yelled with an enormous blush growing on her face as she turned to Kali. For before the young huntress sat her girlfriend's mother with her right leg straight up in the air as she groomed herself like a cat.
  • Kali: Hmm? Is something wrong Yang? *Kali asked when she noticed Yang's red face wide eyes.*
  • Yang: *It was at those words Yang quickly covered her eyes, trying not to peek throght the cracks of her fingers as she yammered.* I!UH! DUH! UMM! S-SORRY! I DIDN'T REALIZE! UUH My GOD!
  • Kali: Hehe, Oh Yang. Calm down. I'm only grooming myself. I'm sure you see Blake do it all the time. Maybe even let her do some grooming on you. *Kali laughed with a teasing smirk, waving her hand.*
  • Yang: Well Yeah but! Wait I mean, No! I, Ugh! It's different with Blake! Plus, She does do that with me! *Yang rambles on, feeling the wall with one hand to leave while covering her eyes with the other.*
  • Kali: Really? Huh? I would have thought Blake would have tried it with you by now? *Kali Thought out loud before a devious smirk formed on her face and spoke seductively to Yang.* In that case, Why don't you come over here and I can show you how it's done? *She purred as she thought.* Let's see how loyal she is to my baby girl.
  • Yang: *Meanwhile, Yang's jaw dropped in shock before she quickly shouted while rushing to the door.* SORRYBUTONLYBLAKECANSHOULDANDWILLUSESHERTONGUEONMETHANKSFORTHETOWELSBYYYYYAAAH! *It was towards the end of her sentence, Yang unfortunately slipped on the damped floor and fell on the back of her head. Hard.*
  • Kali: OH MY GOD! YANG! ARE YOU OKAY!? *Kali panicked quickly rushing over to fallen huntress.*
  • ~Present~
  • Kali: ... She slipped in our bathroom while getting towels from the closet. The floor was a bit wet since I just took a bath. *Kali explained, leaving out the details.*
  • Blake: Oh no. I knew I forgot something when we left. *Blake said, gentle stroking Yang's hair.* Yang, sweetie. Can you hear me?
  • Ghira: Don't worry Blake. I'm sure Yang well be fine. *Ghira assured her daughter to comfort her, placing his hand on her shoulder when Yang stirred.* Ah, She is waking up.
  • Blake: Yang? How are you feeling? Yang? *Blake asked worryingly.*
  • Yang: Mmmrr, no Mrs B. Only Blake can groom me... *Yang quietly mumbled, still not fully conscious causing both Ghira and Blake to turn their questions stares to the somewhat nervous Kali.*
  • Blake: Mom? She is she mumbling about? *Blake questions while narrowing her eyes.*
  • Kali: I-I have no idea.
  • Ghira: Kali. Tell me you didn't tease the poor girl.
  • Kali: ...
  • Ghira: Kali.
  • Kali: It was an accident.
  • Blake: Oh my god! Mom!
  • Kali: Well on the bright side you know Yang is very loyal to you. Soooo it's not all bad.
  • Ghira: *Ghira could only sigh with his daughter as they both crossed their arms and pinched the bridge of their noses.* This is Ilia all over again.
  • Blake: Tell me about it.
  • Yang: I demand a Blakey bath when the room stops spinning.* Yang randomly said holding up her metal hand.*

anonymous asked:

Swan queen prompt: Regina finally found a way to reverse the potion that didn't let her have children and is thinking of getting pregnant, then emma finds out and gets jealous because "YOU'RE ONLY SUPPOSED TO HAVE CHILDREN WITH ME"

(Well then, this came out a lot different than I expected. But here we go!)


Down in her vault, Regina flipped constantly through pages of various spellbooks. Her potions sprawled out over the place. Books thrown around the floor around her. Candles lit up to keep the light. Some almost completely burnt out as the wax trickled down onto the cobblestone it sat on. Regina herself sitting on the ground looking exasperated. Her face flushed, bags under her eyes from the lack of sleep.

“Useless… why did I do this to myself…” she muttered under her breath. “For what? To spite my own mother?”

She shook her head as it dropped down. “I can’t keep doing this…” her voice lowered exhaustively. Lids finally closing tightly over her eyes. Regina slunk down to her right side in a deep sleep. Finally, all her research and lack of sleep had caught up to her.

“Mom?” a teenage voice called out as Henry entered the vault. Stepping further inside he saw his mother collapsed on the ground. Quick to her side he checked to see if she was alright. A sigh of relief to find that she was just sleeping.

Shaking his head he looked around seeing all the books surrounding her. “Oh geez, mom….” Henry sighed as he sat down beside her. Stroking his hand over her head, through her hair. “What have you been doing down here?” he asked quietly.

Fingers brushing over the pages of the opened books. Brows furrowed as he picked up one of the books setting it on his lap. “What’s…this?” his eyes scrolled over the words, fingers tracing with as he mumbled under his breath. “Mom…” he sat down the book in front of him. Shaking Regina slightly, “Mom, we need to go home so you can sleep.”

Groaning Regina’s eyes fluttered open. “Henry it’s late…”

Laughing at her he rested his hands on his knees. “Not really, it’s actually only after seven in the morning.”

Shooting up from the ground Regina looked around. “Did I fall asleep here?” he clenched her teeth tightly. Another failed night of research…

“Yeah you did and I got really worried about you. Wasn’t sure where you were so I asked mom and grandma if they knew. Since they didn’t know I assumed you were either here or at your office…” Henry said as calmly as he could, a hint of worry lingering in the back of his tone. “Mom, what’s going on anyways? What have you been doing down here? I thought you stopped with magic…”

Sighing Regina rubbed her head as an oncoming migraine was beginning to form. Biting down on her bottom lip she looked at Henry. Large sad brown eyes as she took a deep breath. “I was trying to find a way to reverse a potion I took long ago… So far I’ve been coming up empty…”

“What potion was it?” he asked her curiously.

“To spite my mother… I took a potion that would leave me infertile… so I may never have children…” she said quietly.

“Oh…” Henry reached back down to the book in front of him. Handing it to his mother. “Is this what you were looking for then?”

Regina quick to take the book skimmed over the spell. Tears building in the corners of her eyes causing them to swell up she sat down the book. Reaching to wrap her arms around Henry. “Yes.. how did you….?” she choked out the words.

Returning the much-needed embrace Henry smiled teary eyed himself. “It was opened next to you… you probably didn’t notice it when you fell asleep.”

Pulling away Regina wiped her tears. Picking up the book she collected herself as she stood up tall. Walking over to the cauldron and potions she began to mix the ingredients it called for. “Thank you.” she said looking over her shoulder as Henry approached beside her.

“Welcome, mom.” he smiled as he watched her make the hopeful reverse potion.

As it finished mixing together Regina poured it into a vile. Looking at Henry who’d been by her side waiting for her. “Well, here it goes…” she smiled faintly. Anxiously she pressed her hand against her stomach while drinking the vile in her other hand.

“Did it work?” he asked as they left the vault.

Shoving a hand into her coat pocket, the other wrapped around Henry. “I don’t know…”

“Well do you feel different?”

She smiled at him and kissed the top of his head. “Yes… actually, I do.”

LATER……

Brushing her hands nervously over her black dress Regina took in a deep breath. “I can do this… I’m… excited to do this….” she whispered to herself before opening the door to Granny’s. The Charming family sitting at their usual booth Regina walked over taking a seat next to Henry.

“So what did you want to talk about? You seemed so excited when you stopped by the station.” Emma said looking over at her with a smile. A hint of curiosity hidden behind it. She hadn’t been able to figure out what Regina was so excited about since she stopped by to see her. Her heart fluttering when they exchanged a long tight embrace.

Crossing her leg over the other, fingers entwined as they rested on her knee. “Well, I have exciting news…” She took in a deep breath before looking at all the curious faces.

“It’s okay mom, just tell them.” Henry said reassuringly.

Emma nudging him, “Kid you know what this is about?”

“Yeah, I helped her out today with it all.”

“With what all?” Emma’s smile soon faded into concern as she looked to Regina.

“Well…. Emma.. everyone… I found a potion to reverse the one I took ages ago… I can now have children… I had stopped off at the hospital afterward to make sure it worked… and… it did!” Regina grinned from ear to ear. “So I was looking into having treatments of some sort since… let’s face it I’m never going to find my true love.” she said bitterly. “So this is the next best thing.”

Snow and David’s smiles stretched widely from ear to ear in the excitement of the news. “Regina! That’s wonderful news! We’re so happy for you! If you need anything, anything at all just let us know.”

Snow extended out her hand to rest upon Regina’s.

“Thank you, Snow, David.” Regina grinned nodding at them. Her heart pounding against her chest soon to halt at the sight of Emma’s expression. “Emma?” she asked worriedly. “Is everything alright?”

Biting down tightly on her bottom lip Emma nodded. Her voice low as she gestured for Henry to move from the booth to let her out. “Yeah, everything’s great. I’m happy for you. I just… remembered something is all.” She swallowed back after giving a quick faint smile. “I’m sorry, I have to go. Good luck. Regina.” she said with a final smile. This one sadder than the others before. Emma gripped tightly onto her red leather jacket as she stepped back turning around facing the door.

Regina puzzled at Emma’s reaction. Feeling her heart as if it was ripped from her chest.

Snow’s brows furrowed as she watched her daughter. Passing baby Neal to David she slid out from the booth. “Just give me one moment please.” she said excusing herself.

Her footing quickened as she headed out the door. Stopping and crossing her arms as she saw Emma standing at the edge of the sidewalk. Hearing her sobs. “Emma?” Snow stepped a little closer towards her daughter. Seeing the tears flooding down her cheeks as she turned to her. “Emma, what’s wrong?”

“It’s not that…I’m not happy for her.” She replied wiping her tears. Stiffening her posture. “I really am… I’m just….”

“Just what? Emma, I’m not unde—”

“Of course you don’t understand.” Emma spat out shaking her head. “I’m thrilled for her. How can I not be? I LOVE HER. I’m just wishing that I could have known and been beside her when she was staying up late looking for a way to reverse this. To be the person that was beside her looking into treatments. TO BE HER TRUE LOVE. IT SHOULD BE MY CHILD SHE IS HAVING. I mean, why not? We have Henry together…”

“Swan?”

Emma’s eyes shot back over from behind her mother. Seeing Regina pacing elegantly toward her. A blushing smile shining brightly as she approached her. “Do you really feel that way?”

“Yes of course I do,” Emma said staring into brown eyes.

One final step, tears building the corners of her eyes. Cupping her hands over Emma’s cheeks she smiled even wider. “Then let’s start a family together.” She said before pressing her red lips against Emma’s.

kadda252  asked:

For the prompt thing, pretty please 10 or 29 or both in one 🙏🏻🙏🏻

This is kind of the opposite of what I wrote yesterday. So here be fluff and nothing but fluff. It’s a sequel to this (sappy) prompt. But you can read it on its own as well. Thank you for the prompt! 

10. “I can never unsee that.” + 29. “Y-you love me?”

When Mulder finds himself in the car en route to Mrs. Scully’s house, he is not sure when it happened.

Or how.

But here he is, in the passenger seat, forced to listen to classical music that’s supposed to be calming. That’s what Scully told him 20 minutes ago, anyway. She’s quiet, tapping along on the steering wheel while Mulder keeps trying to come up with something clever to say. Or really anything. He has questions, plenty of them, but he doesn’t ask any of them. Why am I here, Scully? He would like to know. Why do I have to see your brother twice in one day? Mulder grows agitated just thinking about it.

Why did you kiss me earlier, Scully? That’s the one he really wants to know about.

In good old Mulder and Scully fashion, they haven’t talked about it. The kiss. It’s been hours and Scully hasn’t mentioned it once. If he didn’t know better, he’d think it never happened. Just a figment of his vast imagination. He’s imagined kissing Scully a million times over the years. But no; it definitely happened. Her hands were on his thighs, he can almost feel them still, and her lips grazed his oh so softly. Oh yeah. It happened.

“You’re awfully quiet.” Scully says in between songs. As if the music should not be interrupted.

“I thought you wanted me to shut up.”

“That was… earlier.” Mulder thinks he sees her blush.

“Yeah well, I didn’t know when you wanted me to stop.” Mulder cracks open a sunflower seed, realizing how hungry he is. With her kissing him and then convincing him to go with her to her mother’s made him forget everything else. Like having lunch.

“About the time I – never mind.” The kiss, he thinks, suppressing a smile. She certainly shut him up with that.

“You mean the… you know.” Here he is complaining that Scully doesn’t mention their foray into new, more intimate territory and he finds himself shying away as well.  

“It wasn’t fun, Mulder.” Oh.

“I’m sorry, Scully, I didn't… you started it. I just – then why did you ask me to come with you to your mother’s? If I’m no fun.” Mulder sounds bitter; he tries not to, but what can he do? He’s been wanting to kiss Scully for ages and when they finally do, she hates it.

“That’s why,” she tells him, her voice even, her eyes on the road, “You made fun of me. You know I thought you had something important to tell me and you let me believe it, Mulder.” Oh, again. She wasn’t talking about the kiss at all.

“Scully, I’m sorry. Your brother unnerves me,” he sees her nod in agreement, “He said all these things and then when you finally showed up at the office I felt like… I just wanted you to know there was something to come back to. As stupid as it was.”

“An espresso machine in accounting.”

“I realize it wasn’t my brightest moment, Scully, but I had to say something.”

“But do you realize that I hurried through lunch with my brother because I thought something important was going on?”

“I’m sorry, Scully. What else can I say?”

“Next time your exciting news turn out to be about kitchen appliances, tell me right away and don’t make it a secret.”

“In my defense,” Scully shoots him a look and Mulder ignores it, “I never said it was exciting. I didn’t keep it a secret either. So that’s why I’m here? As punishment?”

“Partly,” she admits.

“And?”

“And what?”

“What’s the other reason?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Scully chuckles and Mulder adds it to his long, long list of things they, apparently, don’t talk about.

*

Mulder doesn’t know what he expected, but it’s not this. This is not, as Scully assured him earlier, a small family gathering. This is dozens of people running around Mrs. Scully’s house.

“Oh Dana, you made it!” A woman, who is almost as tall as Mulder, hugs Scully tightly.

“Mom made me promise.” She replies with a soft smile. If only she would smile like this more often.

“And who is this nice young man, Dana?”

“This is Fox Mulder. My partner,” she startles, “my friend,” Scully turns to him, searching for the right word, “my work…” She trails off with a confused hand gesture.

“Oh Fox,” the large woman shakes his hand heartily, a huge grin on her face, “Maggie told us so much about you. She didn’t say you were coming today!”

“Ah yes, I cleared my schedule for this,” Mulder puts on what he hopes is a charming smile, and judging from the woman’s face it works well enough, and sighs, “I wanted to be here.”

“That’s so lovely, Fox. I’m Dana’s aunt, Millicent.” She’s still holding his hand, he realizes. “Now, go say hello to everyone else. I hope I’ll see you around, Fox.” Aunt Millicent winks at him and Mulder blushes. When she’s out of sight, Scully sighs audibly.

“So I’m your work, huh?” Mulder bumps her shoulder playfully.

“Oh shut up, Mulder. You know what I meant.” Scully doesn’t look at him, instead she seems to look for someone else among all these small and not so small heads. There’s a whirlwind of noises and voices surrounding them.

“Do I?” Scully glances up at him, brows furrowed. Her mouth opens to say something when a loud, distinctively male voice chimes:

“Is that Dana?” In a quick movement, Scully grabs Mulder’s coat sleeve and drags him with her right into a room he’s never seen before. It’s dark, it’s small and for the moment, surprisingly quiet. It could be a coat closet, he thinks, as a soft fabric brushes against him.  

“Scully what-” She puts her finger on his lips to quiet him. Not as effective as her earlier mode of shutting him up, but it works. He’s not going to complain that she’s touching him. Her finger is warm, it’s soft, and he just can’t help himself; he kisses it. Scully’s eyes open wide, but she doesn’t take her finger away, and so he kisses it again.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Mulder.” Her angry whisper shocks him, but even if he knew what to say, he couldn’t. Scully’s lips find his again and this time he makes sure she’s not cutting their kiss short. His arms tighten around her and hold her close. She moans into his open mouth as one of his hands wanders up her spine.

“Why would they – Dana! And Fox!” The door opens and their mouths separate with a loud smack. Their arms still around each other they stare into the faces of Scully’s mother, her brother and man Mulder doesn’t know. Oh well.

“I can never unsee that.” Bill Scully mumbles shaking his head in disbelief.

“Why are you hiding in here?” Maggie Scully, a laugh in her voice, opens the door wider so they can step out. Mulder tries to secretly wipe at his mouth, but the nameless guy watches him intently. As does Bill.

“Bill wanted to introduce you to his Navy friend.” Now it’s Mulder who eyes the other man warily. This is the guy Bill Scully told him about earlier in his office. On his turf. This, he figures, is neutral ground. Not to mention that he just kissed Scully for the second time in one day. That should count for something.

“This is Frank,” the blond stranger waves awkwardly, uncertain if he should shake Scully’s hand, “My friend I told you about earlier.” Bill finishes, his eyes full engaged in a glaring match with his sister. For once Mulder is glad to not be at the receiving end of that death stare.

“And what did I tell you?” Her voice sounds like pure ice.

“I’m just asking you to meet him. You don’t have to marry him.” Bill glances at Mulder, who briefly considers hiding behind Scully or even her mother.

“I’m not interested,” she tells him, “Sorry, Frank.” The man blushes furiously.

“It’s because of him, isn’t it? I mean what you just did…”

“Bill.” His mother’s voice warns him.

“That’s none of your business.”

“He has nothing to offer you, Dana!”

“Bill, leave your sister and Fox alone. Now come on, all of you. We’ve got a house full of people. Behave yourselves.” Mulder watches as Scully raises her eyebrow as if challenging her brother and of course, he bites.

“What is it about him, Dana? He doesn’t love you.”

“Hey,” it’s the last straw and Mulder can no longer keep quiet, “I do love your sister. I love her more than I could ever put into words.”

“Y-you love me?” Out of the corner of his eye Mulder sees Mrs. Scully lead her son and the ominous Frank away. Not that Mulder still cares. His eyes are on Scully, and hers are on him. Right now, in a house full of people, they’re the only two that matter.

“Scully, I am not drunk,” he begins, his voice slightly wavering, “I am not drugged either. I am just me and I am in full capacity of my sanity,” Scully’s eyebrow rises, “as much as is left of it anyway. So let me tell you that yes, I love you. I am in love with you.”

“That’s really nice,” Scully tells him and it’s only now that he notices how close they are once again; like magnets drawn to each, he figures, “Because you know what?”

“What?”

“I love you, too.”

No more words are needed and so he kisses her again and again and again.

The girl worked somewhere on the same street as his shop and walked by every morning with a coffee in hand. There had been a day, months ago, when he’d just finished cleaning up a spilled bouquet. She’d been walking by and he offered her the flower. It had been empty flirting. She was pretty, he’d been standing there with a flower in hand and she had made eye contact so he’d given it to her.

It had become a tradition. A little thirty second conversation every morning when he offered her some flower he’d chosen for her. He’d pick them out the night before while he was cutting the new stock or first thing in the morning when he was arranging the bouquets that would go out to be sold as-is. Sometimes it was something cheap and simple like a daisy or a bit of baby’s breath but sometimes he’d find a rose or a heavy headed gardenia that would catch his attention and he’d set it aside for her.

Sometimes she would ask questions and he’d get an extra few seconds with her as he talked about zinnas and she spun the bloom in her fingers. Other days she would ask him to tuck it into her hair. She always gave him a smile like he was the best thing she could imagine.

She wore tight jeans that hung low on her hips, shirts that slipped sideways off her shoulders when she moved, boots that looked like they’d be hard to walk in. Her hair was a brilliant white that had to come from expensive dyes. She had tattoos along her shoulders and the little pieces of her back he had seen. Bright colours in geometric patterns. She even had marks on her face that should have looked ridiculous but somehow, she made it elegant. She was gorgeous.

He would drop hints, flirt a little harder some days than others but she wasn’t interested. She smiled and laughed and was so happy to have a flower but he couldn’t get any flash of real interest from her. He could have asked her out but doing that when she wasn’t interested would mean losing this adorable little morning ritual. It didn’t need to be romantic to be good. It made her day and it made him smile and those two things were enough.

“How do you take your coffee?” she asked one morning as he tucked a pink rosebud into her hair.

“My coffee?”

“Or tea? Or orange juice?”

“I like my coffee black, with lots of sugar,” he said, “Why?”

“I’m going to bring you one tomorrow.”

And she did as she promised. She showed up the next morning with a coffee cup and somehow that became part of it. She would linger by his door, drinking her coffee while he finished setting up the displays and wrapping the bouquets.

“Where do you work?” he asked.

“Nearby.”

“I’m smart enough to figure out that much, thank you,” he said. “I meant which shop.”

“I work at the tattoo parlour on the corner,” she said.

Fora little while, it was enough to have those few minutes in the morning where they would trade a flower for a cup of coffee and she would make conversation about nothing and everything.

“Where are you from?” he asked one day.

“I’ve got an apartment near the park,” she said.

“I meant. You’ve got an accent, did you grow up here?”

“No.”

“How long have you been here?”

“Three years,” she said. She was spinning the flower he’d given her between her fingers. It was a little uneven so it had gone into a discard pile but she liked anything that wasn’t a solid colour and the sunset pinks and oranges were the type of thing to make her smile. She had been thrilled by it but now she fiddled with the stem enough to make him worry that she would break it.

“Do you like it?”

“Some parts,” she glanced up at him and he let himself imagine for a moment that it meant something but then her gaze moved on, “I miss home.”

“Where’s home?”

“Somewhere that doesn’t exist anymore.”

“Are you a refugee?”

“I suppose I am, yes,” she said.

She didn’t expand or explain and the conversation had moved on and she was on her way to work before he could figure out how to phrase it to dig for more information. He wanted to know everything. He wanted to know her favourite colour and whether she was ticklish and what her opinions on politics were and whether or not she liked mushrooms on her pizza. He was falling for her a little harder every time they spoke.

That was what made him more daring. She hadn’t responded to any of his verbal flirting so he started flirting a little more physically. She hadn’t said no but she also hadn’t said yes so he tried to be as reserved as he could be. He touched her hand when he took the cup of coffee and he played with her hair as he tucked the flower into it.

She didn’t say a word about it but this she returned. She tilted her head and leaned in when he touched her hair. She caught him by surprise one morning when she showed up a little bit early and she reached around him to put the coffee on the table in front of him so for a brief moment, she had her arm around his waist. She would cross her arms and mimic him when he stood considering a bouquet that didn’t balance the way he wanted it to. Sometimes she would get a little closer and stand right at his shoulder so they were almost touching.

“Can I ask your advice?” he said one morning.

“Of course,” she said.

“I want to ask out this girl but she only seems interested about half the time and I don’t know if asking her out will just ruin a perfectly good friendship,” he said.

She looked at him and he held her gaze until he was very very sure that she understood what he was asking.

“She’s probably just a little socially inept,” she said.

“That could be it.”

“You should ask,” she said, “Nothing ventured, nothing gained.”

“You think so?” he asked.

“Yes.”

He finished tucking the flower into her hair. Ok, he stopped playing with her hair. The flower was in place long before he stepped back.

“Do you want to go to dinner with me?”

“Yes.”

He laughed and she caught his face in one hand and turned his chin up so she could kiss him.

the actual premise that I didn’t write: Instead of getting sealed into the Castle of Lions, Allura gets launched out in an escape pod of some kind that crash lands on earth. She’s stuck trying to get by and trying to figure out how to get home. Unfortunately, humans haven’t invented deep space travel and Earth is so isolated that even the deep space trade caravans don’t stop there. So she’s trapped and stranded but at least the guy who gives her flowers in the morning helps keep her sane. 

hetaliankilljoy  asked:

AU,EVERYONE is clueless, and Amara is the vodka aunt that asks"when will you get married, Castiel?My friends' nephews&nieces have kids,your siblings too.what about you?" "I'm getting married soon,not an actual date yet but soon" "to whom?"(Anyone can ask) "didn't you know about Dean and I?We're dating since college..." "We thought you were good friends, sweetie..."(&if Sam/Eileen will be side pairing it'd be awesome.(I'm also a fan of Jimmy/Amelia but I know not everyone is,but I think it fits)

I’ll own I love this trope.

*

“Cas, Cas, sweetie, little sassy-Cassie-lassie,” Amara patted Castiel on the head, ignoring his discouraging scowl. “What I’m saying is - Jimmy is married now! We know, we all get, that you were worried about him, that you were waiting for him to tie the knot first. After the scare he gave you over that horrible…what’s-her-name?…the point is, I love Amelia, and Jimmy loves Amelia, and you love Amelia - not like Jimmy does, of course, that’s why this is his wedding and not yours! - but now Jimmy is safe and taken care of and you need to find someone for you!”

Naomi, Chuck, Anna, all his siblings, heck, even Jimmy and Amelia nodded their agreement.

Stunned, Castiel turned to Dean, he smirked and gave him a knowing wink.

“They’re right,” said Dean blithely. “When are you going to tie the knot, Novak?”

“Are you asking, Winchester?” Cas asked. “Cause I’d say yes if you’d just get off your lazy butt about it.”

“Not like that.” Amara rolled her eyes and thwapped him on the arm. “I’m being serious, Cassie. You’ve been single forever. You need a girlfriend.”

“Did you hear that, Dean?” Castiel shot back Dean’s look and returned his blithe tone ten-fold. Dean looked as stunned as Castiel felt, mouth hanging open. “I’ve been single. I need a girlfriend.”

“Oh,” whispered Dean. He looked green around the gills, and Cas couldn’t blame him. Coming out to Dean’s family had been…interesting…but they’d been spared that with Cas’ family because everyone had, since day one, been so accepting of Dean.

Given how Naomi was now echoing Amara’s concerns about Castiel’s long-term bachelorhood, apparently they’d been less accepting and understanding than Castiel could even fathom.

“Dean, will you get me a drink? I think I need a moment with my family,” said Castiel. Dean opened his mouth to protest but Cas cut him off with a single sharp shake of his head. “Alone.”

“Sure thing,” said Dean, rising. His napkin, forgotten, fluttered to the floor, and Dean gave it a helpless look, shot that same look at Castiel, and bolted. Castiel’s heart ached to see Dean so perturbed. This was his fault. He should have been explicit with his family from day one, instead of assuming everything was cool. Chuck was talking now, and Castiel waited until he finished, waited until Dean stood anxiously on the end of the distant, long line at the open bar, before speaking.

“Please tell me you’re all joking,” he said with deathly calm. Anger bubbled under his skin. After so many years bringing Dean to family functions, sharing a damn bedroom - heck, they’d been living together for a decade - this went beyond homophobia and into utter, willful denial of everything Cas believed, everything Cas was.

“Bro, I’m worried about you,” Jimmy said. There wasn’t a trace of irony in his voice.

Someday, Cas would have a long conversation with Jimmy about what a selfish, oblivious asshole he could be, but today was not that day. At least at Sam and Eileen’s wedding the previous year, all the talk had been about when Dean and Cas would be getting married, since Sam had declared that anyone who couldn’t accept them as a couple wasn’t welcome at his nuptials, even though that had meant denying invitations to both his parents.

Cousin Uriel was talking now. Everyone had accepted Uriel’s parent’s interracial marriage without the bat of an eyelash! But apparently…

Castiel couldn’t keep red fury from his face. His hands shook, he was so mad.

Amara picked up his mood first; even in her drunken enthusiasm to find him a girlfriend, she went pensive and concerned, eyeing. Amelia, bless her, noticed next, and poked at Jimmy until he realized as well that something was truly amiss. His parents followed, then his other uncle and aunt, and finally the cousins, until everyone at the family table stared at him, and not a single damn one of them actually saw him.

“What you all just did to me - and especially to Dean - is beyond cruel,” he said softly, watching them hang on his every word. 

“Dean’s a big boy,” said Chuck, glancing uncertainly toward where Dean waited in line. “I think he could handle being…what’s the word?…sexiled for the night. I saw it on TV, aren’t you supposed to put a sock on the door handle or something?”

“Surely he dates,” added Amara as if she was declaring a fait accompli on the entire discussion.

“Yes, he does,” Castiel said.

“Then why don’t–”

“Dean dates me,” interrupted Castiel, shouting his anger loudly enough that half the tent went silent and turned toward him. Many heads than turned toward Dean, who suddenly looked like he could disappear. Suiting action to expression, Dean fled the tent. Castiel longed to go after him, but he had something to take care of first. “And I date Dean. I’ve been bringing him to Thanksgiving and Christmas for five damn years. We’ve been living together since college! What the hell have you been thinking all these years?”

“You’re a…?” Jimmy looked horrified, and Castiel felt sick. I’m sorry to ruin your wedding day with my spontaneous coming out, brother, but if you weren’t such a dense, self-centered fuckstick this would never have happened.

“James Michael Novak, don’t even think of finishing that sentence,” Naomi said in a ringing voice that, mercifully, pulled attention from Castiel to her. “Cas, we thought you and he were close friends. I’ve wondered, from time to time, but I always assumed you’d tell us if you were a couple! You’d mentioned his family hadn’t taken his coming out well, so we tried to make him feel welcome here.”

“You’re really going to pull the ‘we didn’t say it explicitly so it’s our fault’ card?” Castiel replied acidly. “Amara, you walked in on us making out two years ago! Amelia, you’ve been calling him my boyfriend for a year! And Jimmy! I knew you were a tool sometimes but when we had those chats while I was in college, who the hell did you think I was talking about?”

“We’re identical twins, and I’m straight,” said Jimmy. He at least seemed contrite, and suitably ashamed of himself. “I just assumed…”

“Look, I’m going to go find my not-at-all platonic life partner slash boyfriend slash lover slash hopefully fiancee to be whom you assholes have driven out of the room,” said Castiel. “You…talk about this, or about the wedding, or about yourselves, or about whatever it is you talk about when you’re being utterly fucking oblivious. If you want us to back, come find us. Otherwise, see you…how about never.”

Stunned expressions followed Castiel silently as he stormed from the tent, seething. His vision flashed red as he stepped out into the stunning sunlight outside. It had been such a nice day, a lovely wedding, perfect weather, good food, Castiel hadn’t even blown his toast, and now…

Extensive gardens made tracking Dean down challenging, and it took nearly ten minutes to locate him staring at the fountain burbling pleasantly in the center of the hedge maze.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel said. 

Dean didn’t turn around, but he murmured, “hey, Cas. Sorry I fucked up both our families.”

Closing the space between them, Cas laid a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “No. You did nothing wrong. If it’s anyone’s fault other than their’s, then it’s mine for not explicitly saying years ago that you and I were a thing.” 

Dean reached into his pocket, pulled out his fist wrapped around something, and pressed it into Castiel’s hand. Velvet crushed soft beneath his fingers, and Castiel didn’t need to look to recognize the shape and material.

“Dean…when were you going to…”

“I’d like to say tonight, but the truth is, I’ve been carrying that around for like three months,” said Dean, shaking his head. “Got news for you, Cas - you’re boyfriend is a fricken idiot. Today just goes to show…again…”

Pressing close to Dean’s back, Castiel wrapped his arms around Dean’s perfect waist, nuzzled at Dean’s perfect neck, breathed in Dean’s perfect scent, and spoke to him softly. “I hate when you put yourself down. We’ve both made mistakes over the years, but I wouldn’t want to make them with anyone else.” He paused, then chuckled. “And, since miscommunication seems to be the language of the day, just to be explicit, yes, of course I’ll marry you.”

Dean sighed and relaxed back against Castiel.

Applause broke out. Tensing, Castiel turned, Dean turning with him. His entire family stood at the gap in the hedges that led into the central chamber of the maze. Amara was crying.

“Welcome to the family, Dean.”

Heck, Castiel was crying, and Dean was crying, and unlike Amara, they weren’t nearly drunk enough to blame it on the Champagne.

This is the nicest wedding I’ve ever been to…

anonymous asked:

8i for the ficlet thing

Ahhhhhh I don’t know how to make things short anymoreeeeee.

***

Dr. Merlin Emrys was the best forensic scientist in Camelot City. He was detailed and thorough in everything he did. There was never a scrap of evidence out of place or a particle forgotten when Merlin was working on a case. It was probably the only reason Super Special Agent Prat-dragon put up with Merlin for so long. Especially when Merlin called his boss, Special Agent Arthur Pendragon, any variation of his real name. It was a miracle Merlin hadn’t been sacked for insubordination.

Arthur usually said that he only kept Merlin around because no one else could identify ‘random shit’ like Merlin could. Merlin took it as a compliment since the evidence he found was usually essential to their cases. Once Arthur even admitted that without Merlin his team would have been dead in the water on a few cases.

Despite all Arthur’s talk, Merlin was fairly certain that Arthur kept him around because Arthur actually liked him. Merlin had been added to Pendragon’s team five years ago, and despite a rocky start, Merlin and Arthur had clicked within that first year. Their minds worked in sync and as soon as Arthur had something, Merlin was one step behind him. They were two peas in a pod, despite the fact that they bantered more than they talked. They saw each other everyday. If it wasn’t at the morning report, it was lunch in the cafeteria, or Arthur visiting Merlin in his lab. Arthur often brought Merlin his favorite coffee from Dragons Cafe with a perfect amount of whipped cream (too much whipped cream in Arthur’s opinion). Merlin also knew that Arthur went in person to get the coffee, instead of sending a terrified lackey, because the cups always said ‘Arthur’ on the sides. They had become a pair, and Merlin had thought perhaps if they hadn’t met at work…there would be something more there too.

Keep reading

Easily Bewildered

Bewildered; the first time someone used the word, I nearly laughed aloud.
There was a group of varied students sitting across the lawn, grouped together in the shade of a tree, all decked out in weird jewelry and with circles around their eyes, hurried pen ink on their wrists. I was at a picnic bench, sitting with my friends from lab, working on some report or something. There was a lull in the conversation, and the hushed voices, filled with awe, scattered across the grass of the lawn towards us. I was looking absentmindedly at my phone, and when I heard the strange phrase, I burst out laughing. Their voices were so quiet, almost afraid, and like so much else at this school, I didn’t take it into account. I instantly lumped them in with the other students, overly superstitious and quiet, clinging to their iron and their salt like this was some episode of Supernatural.
The first time I heard bewildered, I laughed. 

The second time, it was coming from the mouth of my Hall Advisor, in the longest informational lecture I’d gotten that year. I was sitting on a couch in the overly cramped common room, squished in-between two of my closest friends from bio lab, and we were already bored and over dramatically rolling our eyes at one another before it even began. They were talking firmly, as if they believed in everything they were saying, reminding us very sternly of the “advice” from the beginning of the year. Every year. It was about the third or fourth time I’d heard this lecture, despite not having been here that many years. Sometimes, I wondered if the weirdness would ever end, and just leave me to do my labs and lose my mind in peace.
“Don’t go out late at night, if you have to, make sure you stay on the path.” Well, duh. I looked to my right, and met the eyes of my lab partner, who was just perishing of boredom. I could tell she wanted to be on her phone, but we’d managed to be polite this far, so maybe we could make it to the end of the meeting. Our HA would appreciate it.
“Don’t go near the woods. We’ve had way more kids get bewildered this year, it’s not normal and you all really need to step it up.” I snickered. The friend to my left said something under eir breath, and my other friend suppressed a laugh, and we tried, really hard.
Our HA didn’t appreciate it. They stared us down for a moment, while some other students clutched their iron necklaces or slipped hands into pockets, making fists around what was probably salt, if I knew this floor well enough. I elbowed my lab partner in the side, and she shut up, em quickly following suit. Shockingly, we managed the rest of the meeting, finally slipping out and snickering, finally sharing all of the snide comments that had built up the whole time. Other students walked out glumly, faces pale, shoulders slumped.

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Five times Dan hated being warm and the one time he didn't

   - A big thank you to both my beta and my doodler. They both did exceedingly well and helped me bring this fic to life. It is my first time taking part in the PLP and I’m excited to take part in it again!

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i followed the stars

or multiverse!au

In which Lexa and Sara Lance exist in the same new reality, are (strictly) bros, and work together at finding what they both lost in a previous life.

(You can expect resurrection, angst, and humor mixed with some odd mashing of worlds and a whole lot of liberties taken. Some great soulmate type action (yes, Clarke). Oh and some heavy feels thrown in because duh, this is also a clexa story.)

((Please direct any and all yelling to @blindwire, as she nudged this whole idea along))



The light is blinding.

She blinks against it, unable to see anything but the neon behind her eyes. A hand up to block it, but it’s coming from everywhere and nowhere all at once.

There’s a ringing in her ears, high pitched and strange.

And then it’s gone.

All at once.

And she opens her eyes and blinks it away again, wiping at her watery eyes and patting her cheeks.

She’s in the middle of a walkway, in the middle of a crowd.

It looks familiar, feels familiar.

She sees someone just ahead.

There’s something she knows in the girl’s walk. A swagger, assuredness down to the very core.

There’s a tug inside Lexa, an urge.

The wavy blonde hair falls along leather clad shoulders in a way she’s seen before.

And something ignites inside of her.

Lexa quickens her own step, unable to breathe, unable to think about anything besides the blood rushing in her ears and the way the world suddenly seems like it’s shaking around her.

About to open up and swallow her whole before she gets closer.

Before she can reach out and touch.

Before she can find what she thought was lost to her forever.

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Why Didn’t You Tell Me?

Originally posted by daenso

Request: when chanyeol finds out your pregnant from the pregnancy test he finds in the bathroom a lot of angst and fluff at the end

Word Count: 2974

Genre: Angst…too much angst.

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Not Your Fault

Requested: Can you do one where y/n finds out that she can’t get pregnant ?

Your name: submit What is this?

~~~

It’s your fault. That’s what you found out today. You went to the doctor because you and your husband Shawn have been trying to get pregnant for a few months, and you both thought it would be a good idea to see if there was a reason why or if anything was wrong. You know that sometimes it just takes a while to get pregnant, so since it had only been a few months of trying, you weren’t too worried.

But the doctor ran tests on both you and Shawn, and the test results just came back today. It turns out that Shawn is perfectly fine and capable of getting you pregnant, but the problem is that you can’t get pregnant, something about being infertile. You barely heard much of what the doctor said in that office. All you heard was that it was your fault, and that’s all you needed to hear to spend the rest of the meeting just trying to keep yourself from falling apart. The doctor was telling you about other options, about things you could do instead. Shawn’s hand was securely in yours the entire meeting, his thumb comfortingly running along the back of your hand, but it didn’t make you feel much better.

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Didn't Even Notice

Based on the gifs in this post.

A/N: This just hit me. I hope you like it. It is not Roommates.

I do not own Teen Wolf or it’s characters. Sadly.

Words: 1,347

Gifs give so much inspiration. Thank you, @aworldmadeforme for looking over it before I published it for me. I was so apprehensive. Thank you for putting my mind at ease.

Xxx

You didn’t even notice at first. Who knew how long it had been going on? Lydia. Lydia knew. Lydia always knew everything.

“He does not,” you said with a swat of your hand as if to shoo away her words.

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anonymous asked:

Prompt: Convo that would have happened if Elias didn't come in after Sana caught Yousef dancing

Sana rested against the door, her eyes glancing towards the painted white wood of it and fixating for a moment on a smudge she saw there. The things she noticed when trying to avoid eye contact with the boy who’d changed everything. Or maybe not changed but exposed everything. Things she didn’t want to acknowledge or think about. Didn’t want to have to deal with.

There was a difference between the feelings that led your eyes to wander over the hard plains of guy’s toned abs in the summer. The wants that pooled low in your stomach. Uncomfortable and distracting. Those feelings were completely different than those conjured by the boy she’d just found dancing all by himself, lost in music as it filled the room. Beautiful. He was beautiful.

Now he stood a number of feet away, embarrassed after being caught in a moment he thought he was alone. He was usually so smooth. Had a way of making Sana blush or flustered with no more than a gaze. Cracking his way through that indifferent front she’d mastered long ago. Now it seemed it was his turn.

“Fuck, sorry, didn’t know you were home.”

Hearing Elias move around in the next room, both turned and glanced in his direction in anticipation of him joining them.

“Shit, I forgot something. I’ll be a minute.” Elias called to Yousef as the sound of his footsteps drew further away.

Yousef turned back to Sana, his dark eyes catching hers. This time she didn’t look away but felt a heat form on her cheeks. She wondered if Yousef could see the blush, looking at her as intently as he was.

“How was yesterday? Did you have a good time?” He asked, with that hint of awkwardness she wouldn’t usually associate with him.

“Fun,” Sana replied. Fun, yeah. That was one word for it. But she hadn’t gone into detail with anyone about how ‘fun’ Friday night had been and she wasn’t about to start with Yousef. She paused for a moment, almost forgetting why she’d come into the room in the first place.

When Sana had stormed down the hall she had thought she was going to find her brother. Maybe he wouldn’t be alone but he’d act as enough of a buffer between Yousef and her thoughts that she would be able to think straight. She’d tell him to turn the music down and that would be that. There wouldn’t be any of this awkward silence or internal kicking of herself that she was considering pretending she came into the room for any other reason. Sana needn’t have worried about having to confront him.

“It’s the music, right? I’ll keep it down. I’ll make sure Elias does too.”

That coaxed a smile from her. She felt herself softening in a way she wasn’t used to, wasn’t comfortable with but it was happening none the less.

“Thank you. I was just trying to pray.” Sana said simply, lifting a shoulder.

“Oh shit, yeah. I didn’t even think.” Yousef replied, checking his watch.

“Why would you?” There was a bite to Sana’s words that she never intended and she could tell the teeth made contact in the way Yousef’s brow creased and he visibly tensed. She quickly fumbled for the words to explain and apologise. She hated her meaning being misunderstood. Hated coming across harsh when that wasn’t her intention.

“I uh, I didn’t mean-”

Yousef raised a hand, the corners of his lips kicking up into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“It’s okay, I know what you mean. I mean… I don’t know when the last time I prayed was.” As he spoke his hand sifted through his hair, his eyes glancing towards the floor as if ashamed to admit it.

Sana hesitated before taking a step into the room, towards Yousef. “No, I- I didn’t mean that. I’m not judging at all.” She bit her lip, unsure how to explain herself without giving too much away. Without seeming like she was trying to fish for something in an empty pond. “I just meant why would you think about… me.”  

Sana almost rolled her eyes at herself. That had not come out right. She rushed to clarify what she’d meant, the heat in her cheeks rising all the more. “I mean, why would you think of it when you didn’t know I was here. You know? So no worries. It’s fine.” Sana finished with a smile. It felt too much, this all felt too much, like she was giving Yousef a chance to see right through her but she didn’t know how to stop this runaway train.

Yousef took a couple of steps towards Sana and she was mixture of wanting to bolt and being glued to the spot. His hand moved to grip the back of his check and his eyes bore into her, she felt them against her almost as physical a touch as hands on skin. The rise and fall of Sana’s chest sped up at his closer proximity.

“Sana, I-”

Just then Elias breezed in through the door. He was rambling on about something that only sounded like white noise to Sana’s ears. The weight of what Yousef was about to say hung heavily between them and Elias seemed to notice the tension. He came to a stop, looking between his sister and Yousef. A frown dripped his brow but he didn’t speak, presumably waiting for an explanation. Thankfully Yousef found his voice because Sana was at a loss.

“Sana was trying to pray. She wants us to keep it down.”

“Yeah,” Sana finally spoke up. “It may not be as important to you as whatever else you have planned but I’d really appreciate it if you could respect that it is for me and let me do it in peace. Thanks.”

With that Sana turned on her heal, catching Yousef’s small quirk of his lips, and went back to her room, her head buzzing and her heart beating fast, the sound of Elias calling to her about Noora following her.