but-hey-it-got-notes-quickly

Request: Giving Cas a flower crown

Requested by: Anon

Who: Castiel

Warnings: None

Notes: (x)

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Y/n had spent maybe half an hour trying to make the perfect flower crown for Cas and now that it was complete, all s/he had to do was put it on him. If he would leave it on or take it off, Y/n had no clue. S/He smiled as s/he got closer to Cas.

“Hey Cas,” Y/n said to get his attention.

“Yes?” He turned around to face Y/n.

Y/n quickly placed it on his head and pulled out his/her phone.

“What is this?” Cas questioned placing his hand on his head.

“It’s a flower crown. Can I take a quick picture?” Y/n asked “You can take it off once I take the picture.”

“I don’t see why not…” He said letting his hand fall back down to his side.

Y/n smiled and snapped a quick picture, “Thank you!”

Cas smiled slightly a bit confused and watched Y/n walk away. Once s/he was gone he took it off examining it. He carefully put it back on his head so he wouldn’t make it fall apart then went to go find a mirror. 

anonymous asked:

Can you do a drabble based on number 69?

She wakes up to him getting ready to crawl into bed. He’d been running tests late in the lab and she’d given in and gone to sleep without him. 

“Fitz?” 

“Hey,” he says softly. “Go back to sleep.” 

She blinks against the soft light, instantly taking note of the stiffness of his movements. 

“Are you okay?” 

“Hm? Yeah, of course,” he says quickly. He turns his face away from her and she sits straight up, grabbing his chin to tilt it back. 

“Why the hell are you bleeding?!” she yelps, grabbing at the tissues on their bedside table to dab at his cut. 

He grimaces. “I kind of fell asleep during the testing. Turns out the mechanical components got a bit too hot, and–” 

“The machine exploded,” she finishes. 

“I wouldn’t say exploded, I would say–” 

“You got hurt,” she states. “You need to be more careful, Fitz. This is the fourth time in the last two weeks you’ve managed to hurt yourself.” 

“Just a little distracted,” he says with a shrug. “It’s not a big deal, Jemma.” 

“You got hit in the head by machinery!” Jemma interuppts, a bit shrilly. He winces against the noise and she glares at him. “You’re probably half-concussed.” 

“Jemma, I’m fine,” he repeats firmly. “I just want to go to sleep, okay?” 

“I’m just worried,” she says as he turns off the light and lays down beside her. “You’re not usually so distracted, and you won’t tell me what’s bothering you.” 

“Nothing’s bothering me,” he murmurs. “Okay? I promise, nothing is going on. There’s just a lot of projects going on right now.” 

Jemma bites her lip and listens to his breathing as it evens out. She knows all of his projects as well as her own, and she knows he’s worked on more than he is now without any problems. 

In the morning, she wakes up before him and heads into the lab. She manages to talk herself into searching through the papers on his desk. Perhaps there’s a problem that she can help solve. After all, it doesn’t feel as much like snooping when she’s just trying to help. 

Pages and pages of sloppy notes sit underneath an applied physics book in the corner of his desk, and she tentatively lifts it to examine them. 

She only makes it through the first sheet before she slams the book back down and backs away, hands flying to her mouth as she gasps. 

Fitz is going to propose.