marriage chest

Please read this those who are looking to get married

Too many brothers are putting too much emphasis on looks when getting married. This is a serious naseeha to brothers (and also sisters. But I witness this mostly with brothers) and I’m fed up with brothers turning down God-fearing sisters because she is simply not “attractive enough”.

Okay, first of all. A sister who fears her Lord and wears proper hijab is obviously trying to protect her beauty so what you will see of her is a glimpse of her natural beauty. You can simply not expect a sister to be attractive while wearing proper hijab? It’s paradoxal. I get it!!! You may dislike her features which is fair enough!!! You should be pleased with the looks of the one you marry but just don’t go to extremes. Do not expect to marry a model - or a huri - come on now. I believe brothers (not all but some, unwillingly) are a little brainwashed by the sickening sexist western image of women looking a certain way and mistaking it for being something attainable.

Subhan'Allah.. Be grateful if you find a sister who looks decent, has Taqwa, love of deen and is serious. Do not turn a sister down simply because you want someone who looks like a model… This sister is going to be the mother of your future children. What can great looks give children??? Maybe they get to inherit her genes. Awesome okay. But how about upbringing?

And please do not forget that attractiveness doesn’t always equal looks !!!!!! You cannot be fair in you judgement of a person based upon a picture. Sit with them at least! Have a talk. See if there is chemisty. Looks. Is. Not. Everything !!!!!!

General naseeha: How about we start off by judging people by what they choose to carry in their hearts and minds? Why judge someone based on their God-given features they didn’t choose themselves?

I promise, a beautiful person will become the coolness or your eyes if they sincerely fear their Rabb. You cannot help but love them with time. Beauty fades. And trust me sisters can be much prettier than those kafira women who sell their bodies. Sisters are only allowed to show their utmost beauty and be attractive behind closed doors to their husbands. Respect your sisters and be fair in your judgements.

May Allah grant you all righetous spouses. Ameen.

I was watching Mr. and Mrs. Smith earlier today and I was like “Haha isn’t that Bucky and Steve WAITAMINUTE. I can make this stuckony.”

So there’s Steve, who works for SHIELD. There’s Bucky, who works for the CIA. And then there’s Tony, who’s a contractor for the government but still CEO of Stark Industries. (Honestly when will he not be. I am a creature of habit.) The CIA and SHIELD discover that they’re all together, and decide well, that’s not good, they could share secrets. So let’s make them kill each other!  (Let’s assume there’s still HYDRA in SHIELD for this because I don’t believe Fury or Coulson permitted this.)

And for added pain (and to keep Tony under their thumb) they go to Tony and say “hypothetically if we each had an agent married to each other how would you fix this?” And Tony laughs and says “I don’t know, kill them both?” (He thinks it very clear that this is a joke because he is a contractor and his opinions on weaponry and defense are the only things that matter.)

Well, lo and behold, suddenly Steve and Bucky are sent to take each other out and they are shocked (and hurt!) to find out all the lies. Steve isn’t an art teacher. Bucky’s not a history professor. “Do you even love Tony, or was that a lie, too?!” they snarl at each other, and get into a huge fist fight in the penthouse, destroying everything.

And then Tony gets home early and finds Bucky has a knife to Steve’s throat, and Steve has a gun pressed to Bucky’s gut, and his home is a mess. “…Why?” he asks tiredly. “Oh my God I just had a hellish day of meetings and now this. Did one of you eat the last of the other’s ice-cream?”

“…I don’t even like rum raisin,” Steve says, and Bucky turns and just yells in his face in anger.

(Tony has no idea what’s going on and he is suddenly Frightened because he’s never seen them like this. Against literally anyone else’s better judgement, he walks up to them and just takes the weapons from their hands. And Steve and Bucky let him, because he is their precious civilian husband, and also threatening each other has gotten awkward now that they have an audience who is clearly not impressed.)

Of course, Tony clearing the chamber and unloading the gun expertly is the hottest thing ever and Steve and Bucky can at least agree on that. After some loud (and honestly kinda violent) life-affirming sex (for Bucky and Steve anyway), Tony makes them spill what’s happening. Tony, incensed, does some discrete hacking and realizes in horror that if anything gets out about it, the CIA and SHIELD are going to throw it back on him, even though it was clearly a fucking joke.

Now, Steve and Bucky are kind of pissed at each other for all the lies, but Tony has told them the truth from the get-go (”You’re not teachers?” Tony asks, betrayed, and they start to feel bad but then– “So the hot-for-teacher role play did nothing for you?” The noises they make are terrible but Tony is so earnestly afraid that they were just putting up with it that they rush to assure him that the role plays were definitely enjoyed on their ends. Sorry. I had to get some more humor in here.)

But now the forty-eight hours Steve and Bucky were given to kill each other are up and Natasha, Steve’s coworker (”I thought she was your PE teacher coworker!” Tony wails.) calls and tells him that SHIELD is about to head out and finish the job for him. Bucky gets a call from Clint (”He’s not just a homeless guy you help out?!” “I never said he was homeless, Tony, you just assumed he was because he’s a slob.”) saying the same thing, and also they’re going to consider Tony collateral damage. Steve and Bucky are furious, because Tony is innocent. “NOT THAT WAY!” they both shout when Tony opens his mouth to make a smart remark about his ‘innocence.’

Cue the car chase in one of Tony’s suped up cars. (”My baby,” he whimpers every time the car is dented and shot at.) At one point his driving gets so… creative, that Steve is almost thrown from the car and the only thing keeping him from being thrown was Bucky’s hand wrapped his wrist. For a terrifying few seconds, he was in midair. (But hey it caused one of their pursuers to flip so no harm no foul.) Bucky’s prepared to tease him mercilessly but then Tony blurts out, “Oh, wait, does being married before count as a secret?” And Steve and Bucky nearly foam at the mouth because whowhyhow?! “It was a Vegas wedding and we got it annulled when we were sober.” “What’s her name?” Steve hisses. “And her social security number?” Bucky adds. “First of all I can’t even remember my own social, and second you’re not going to kill her because it was Pepper and we were celebrating the great reception of the first StarkPhone.” The idea of trying to kill Pepper is daunting so they settle for grumbling mulishly to each other about it.

I’m not sure what happens next. Maybe they expose all the HYDRA agents in SHIELD, or Fury and Coulson finally catch wind of what’s going on and put a stop to it (but not before a huge shootout because I’m a sucker for those.) All I know is that I want them to end up at a meeting with the marriage counselor and Tony’s complaining about how Steve and Bucky don’t know how to communicate with each other. “Yeah, I really wanted to kill him recently,” Steve jokes. “But I just couldn’t pull the trigger.” “Ha. Haha,” Bucky says. “And I just couldn’t sink the knife into his chest.”

The marriage counselor (probably Bruce tbh the poor guy) says “But hey, you couldn’t do it. That’s good. What about you, Tony?”

“I communicate perfectly!” Tony sputters indignantly.

“Honestly he may communicate too well,” Steve and Bucky admit.

The marriage counselor just makes some interested noises because he isn’t sure what to say. (They eventually work things out though.)

Like Father, Like Son

TITLE: Like father, like son.

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 1 of 2

AUTHOR: greeneyedgirls4

ORIGINAL IMAGINE:

Iris and Loki have been friends since childhood. One drunken mistake leads to her getting pregnant and the end of their friendship. When Iris tells Loki it doesn’t sit well but what she doesn’t know is a complicated chain of events have already begun.

RATING: General

NOTES/WARNINGS: No warnings. I hope you all enjoy and feedback is always welcome :) Sorry if this isn’t my best work but my cousin’s wife was in labour while I was writing this so I was a bit worried for her.. I do have a healthy little second cousin called Archie now though. 

Iris steps into Loki’s room. The large wooden door already open.. like he had been expecting her. The last time she was here that door was pressed against her back as Loki kissed her passionately. A few drinks too many, a one night stand and a friendship ruined was all that was left of her life now. She knew her first time may have consequences but she never thought this would happen.. after all Loki is the master of magic.

She sits on the edge of the bed. The thick mattress welcoming her. The green and black room had hints of gold under the candlelight. A large fire roars in the corner when the bathroom door opens.

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Good Enough (20)

prologue; part one; part two; part three; part four; part five; part six; part seven; part eight; part nine; part ten; part eleven; part twelve; part thirteen; part fourteen; part fifteenpart sixteen; part seventeen; part eighteen; part nineteen; part twenty; part twenty one; part twenty two; part twenty three; part twenty four; epilogue.

bonus scenes: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.

Making sure you were fast asleep, Sehun left you under the watchful gaze of Kara and headed up to the neonatal ICU to visit Tadpole. He’d spent hours up there already with you once you had finished giving birth and had cleaned up. You just cried into his chest with your finger in the incubator as you watched Tadpole’s chest desperately rise and fall with the help of lots of tubes and wires. It broke his heart to see his daughter in such a way when she was barely an hour old but he had to stay strong for you.

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King’s lover - Chaorian. Chapter 1/3

Next chapter

Fandom: Throne of Glass

Pairing: Chaol Westfall/Dorian Havilliard (Chaorian)

Word count: 6906 (general) |1645 (chapter)

Summary: A year after the war, Dorian and Chaol were living peacefully in Adarlan and keeping each other company. But they wanted more and didn’t even know it.

Notes:  I know it’s been a while since I promised this, but here it is!! I love this idea and this fic to death and I had so much fun writing it. I hope you guys enjoy!

Read it on AO3


Dorian pressed his knuckles against his eyes, reluctantly waking up, the sun on his face. He grunted in protest as he turned away from the window that faced him and covered his head with the sheets. He grunted again when those sheets were taken away from him, exposing his head to the brightness of the room once more.

“Such an annoying morning person,” he mumbled, but his heart warmed at the laugh that came from Chaol, his irritation fading a bit.

“Time to wake up, your majesty.”

Majesty. It had been a year since the war had ended, and they had sent Erawan back to whatever hole he had come from. Even more than a year since he had killed his father, and Aelin had announced that he was now king of Adarlan. He was not yet used to the title. It sounded strange; especially coming from Chaol, his best friend, his lover.

He turned around to look at him. Chaol was standing with his arms crossed,clothes sweaty, no doubt just back from training. Which means it was late, and he had let Dorian sleep in.

“I thought kings did as they pleased,” he said, taking in the view of his lover, his muscles that showed through the wet shirt, his brown hair damp and shining against the sun light.

“Apparently not, your majesty.” The answer was serious. A sigh escaped Dorian’s lips.

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Still

genre: angst, romance, marriage, divorce
characters: reader and namjoon, bts
word count: 1791

summary:

You want the divorce. Your marriage is not the same. You don’t think he loves you anymore. This is the right thing to do…right?

Part 1  7:09am

It’s 2 am, he’s not coming anymore. She kept mentally repeating to herself. Go to sleep Y/N, it’s 3 am. She just couldn’t. 4 am. She got up and went to bed, looking to the wall at the opposite of her view with a blank look. She closed her eyes as she tried to cope with everything she was feeling at that moment.

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I Think I Wanna Marry You (Jikook)

Wow it’s been forever hasn’t it? Well the fluff master is back and damn, I don’t even know how this happened but it did. Get ready for tooth-rotting sappiness. Inspired by Jungkook deciding Jimin’s couch was more comfortable then his bed in the most recent Bon Voyage. Please enjoy!


“I wanna marry you.” Jimin doesn’t register Jeongguk’s words at first. He hums in agreement, too engrossed in his book. The nudge of Jeongguk’s head brings him back to reality and Jimin’s head snaps up. He looks at Jeongguk with wide, disbelieving eyes.

“Wait, what?”  

“I think I wanna marry you.” Jeongguk speaks in a nonchalant tone, as if he’s commenting on the weather. His hair’s skewed to one side, a product of sleep, and he’s got one foot hanging off the edge of the couch. An arm holds his head up as he stares backwards, up at Jimin. Jimin peers down over him, lowering his book down.

I think you’re still half asleep. Go back to bed Jeongguk-ah,” Jimin giggles as he folds a bookmark into his book. He sets it down behind him on the couch and reaches over Jeongguk’s form to pull his blanket back up to his shoulders. Jeongguk curls his fingers around Jimin’s wrist as he sit’s back.

“I’m serious Jiminie.” Jeongguk turns over and sits up, bringing Jimin’s wrist to his mouth. Shivers run throughout Jimin’s body as Jeongguk’s lips touch his skin. Jimin just stares into Jeongguk’s dark eyes. He’s so distracted he forgets to remind Jeongguk who’s the older one here. Finally, his lips quirk up into a sad smile as he pulls Jeongguk closer to him, Jeongguk still hanging on to Jimin’s wrist.

“Even if we wanted to Gguk-ah, we can’t…” Jimin trails off and Jeongguk rolls his eyes. He sticks his feet over Jimin’s lap and smushes his face against Jimin’s shoulder.

“I don’t mean now…well, actually, it is legal here….” Jimin slaps Jeongguk’s shoulder lightly.

“Jeon Jeongguk my mother would kill me if I came back married and she didn’t even get to witness it.” There’s a few seconds of silence, Jimin’s hand finding it’s way into Jeongguk’s hair, before he’s suddenly shaking with laughter. Jeongguk lifts his head up to watch, mesmerized by the shapes of Jimin’s eyes, lips, cheeks…

“Do you even know how beautiful you are when you laugh?” Jimin slaps Jeongguk in the chest and laughs harder.

“Jeongguk-ah! I can’t believe how calmly we’re talking about marriage, like we’re talking about what to have for dinner. You didn’t even ask me properly.” Jimin’s giggles slow as he pouts and points an accusing finger at Jeongguk. Jeongguk ignores Jimin in favor of pulling on his wrist again. He examines each of Jimin’s tiny fingers, the mood changing from humorous to serious. Until-

“I’m gonna marry you.” Jeongguk speaks quietly, with the same determined look on his face as he had when he spoke the first time. Jimin pulls his hand back and crosses his arms over his chest, this pout even more pronounced than the last one.

“You. Should. Ask.” Jimin forces his gaze away from Jeongguk, looking out across the room. He’s currently trying to ignore his heart pounding away in his chest. Marriage was only something he had dreamed about, far off in the distance. It didn’t seem like a reality to him, and yet here Jeongguk was, speaking about it seriously. Maybe it’s the fact that it’s one am, or that they’re away from home, or that, for the first time in a long time they didn’t feel the weight of their career pressing down so heavily on them, but Jimin can see it. He can see himself and Jeongguk, as a proper family. He wants it. He wants it so badly his chest aches and his hands tremble, stopped only by Jeongguk wrapping himself around Jimin once more.  

“Jimin,” He whispered in Jimin’s ear. Jimin’s heart stopped, then thudded back to life. “I don’t know how. I don’t know when, or where, but I want to marry you. Will you please do me the honor?” Jimin wraps his arms around Jeongguk and shudders against him. Jeongguk holds Jimin tightly, willing him silently to say yes.  

“You don’t even have a ring you brat,” Jimin whispers, but he whispers through tears. “But yes. Yes I will do you the honor of marrying your sorry ass you son of a-” Jimin is, of course, cut off by Jeongguk’s lips on his, and they stay that way for a long time. Jimin doesn’t know when they break apart, or when they lay back down, now tangled together on the already small couch. Every once in a while Jeongguk presses a light kiss into Jimin’s neck and Jimin grips Jeongguk’s bicep tighter.  

Pulling back, Jeongguk stares at Jimin until he opens his eyes again. When Jimin does he’s greeted with a wide bunny smile and a few tears of Jeongguk’s own. He reaches up to brush them away without a second thought.  

“Don’t worry hyung. I’m your secret Santa. You’ll get your ring, if you can even find a spot for it, that is.” Jimin snorts and pulls Jeongguk back to him.  

“I think I can make some room, just for you Gguk-ah.”

anonymous asked:

Girl your writing is superb 🙌🏽 prompt idea: Kate is pregnant in 8x01/2 but she doesn't know yet. She gets shot the same way and starts to feel worse and worse throughout the episode. When she is back with Castle ( the kitchen scene) she faints from the pain in her wound. Castle is frantic and brings her into hospital they find out she was pregnant and had a near miscarriage due to the wound but they were able to save the baby.

The scent of the smorelette has nausea swirling through her stomach, the look on his face threatening to send bile up her throat, but she blames it on the still prominent sting lancing through her side, the path the bullet had carved through her flesh, the stitches and antibiotics the doctor had prescribed her doing little to quell the biting ache.

“What are you doing?” Castle asks, a demand and a plea rolled into one and something worse than an upset stomach overtakes her, the grief of what she’s about to do to him, to them.

“I have to go,” she gets out, sucking in a deep breath that makes her head swim.

“Why?” he questions, abandoning the spatula on the stovetop and starting around the counter, his eyes narrowing with skepticism, and her insides perform another painful flip.

“I uh, I have to get my head right,” Kate murmurs, blinking a few times to dispel the tears and strange streaks of black trailing along the edges of her vision. “I have to figure some things out so that we can have…” She has to pause to swallow, the words scratching against her throat, leaving her raw. “Have a happily ever after.”

Castle wipes his hands on a nearby dishtowel, the crease of his brow deepening with every second.

“Where’s this coming from?” He steps out of the kitchen, releasing more questions that demand answers as he draws closer, the floor creaking loud and deafening in her ears. “Why are you giving up on our marriage?”

Her chest caves in and she stumbles backwards, away from him, because if he touches her, she won’t be able to do it, leave him.

“I’m trying to save it,” she gets out, witnessing some of the hurt in his eyes give way to concern. Perhaps she simply looks as bad as she feels.

“By leaving me?” Beckett scrapes a hand through her hair. Her skull is hot, a worrisome contrast to the cold sweat layering her skin. “Look, if you have a problem, we have a problem. That’s how this works.”

“No,” she whispers, all she can manage, and drops her hand to her chest, her scar throbbing hard like the beat of a drum, each pound sending flares of white through her eyes.

“Kate?” Her vision is fading. “Kate, you look like you’re about to faint, what’s-”

The pain that splinters through her abdomen is sharp, nearly forces her to her knees, but Castle is there, catching her before she can collapse to the floor. She gasps into his shoulder, clutching the fabric of the plaid button down stretched across his back.

“Feel bad,” she rasps, clinging to his frame, ignoring the reminder flaring through her throbbing skull. She was supposed to leave, had to keep him safe, but - but she loves him too much to go, loves the way it feels to be enveloped in his embrace, warm and untouchable, and the urge to leave fades, nothing more than a dissipating whisper through her brain.

Kate presses her cheek to his clavicle, her forehead damp but cooled by the skin of his throat, and closes her eyes. He’s talking to her, but his words are muffled too, the pain quieted as well, and if only she could remain just like this.

-

Riding with her in the ambulance has residual bile stinging in his throat, the setting too similar to another time, watching her die, but this is different. He has to continue reminding himself that it’s different.

She had passed out in the middle of nearly walking out on him, their marriage, and now she was laid up in a hospital bed with an IV in her arm, the doctor having just left them for the second time that evening after checking her vitals, the gunshot wound. It was healing well, the man had assured him, but they were still running tests, keeping an eye on the bullet graze that has an angry arc of red blooming between the bones of her ribs.

Castle leans back in the uncomfortable chair at her bedside, rakes his fingers through his hair and tries to quiet the pulsing of the headache rioting at the forefront of his skull.

He wouldn’t be surprised if it was stress that had pushed her to this point. Everything that’s happened within the last 48 hours, coupled with the apparent decision to separate from him. It hadn’t been an easy one for her, couldn’t have been if the tears glittering in her eyes, illuminating the remorse, were any indication.

She hadn’t wanted to leave him; he wouldn’t let her. Especially not now.

Rick drifts in and out of a fitful sleep as the late evening progresses into night, attempts to stay awake with the excuse for coffee that the night nurse is kind enough to bring him, and holds tight to Kate’s hand every time the paralyzing worry blooms bright in his chest, toys with her wedding band each time the insecurities begin to stem from it.

“Mr. Castle, I’m so sorry for the wait, but the test results for your wife’s blood work have finally come back,” Doctor Fisher announces, coming through the door with a tired smile, his voice quiet for the sake of the sleeping patient in the hospital bed.

She probably hasn’t slept in days, needs as much as she can get.

“Is everything okay?” Rick inquires, gentling his grip on Kate’s hand, running his thumb back and forth over her knuckles to soothe his own erratic pulse.

“Ultimately, yes,” Fisher assures him, casting his gaze down to the clipboard in his hands. “She’s dehydrated and severely lacking in nutrients. Coupled with the graze and the pregnancy, I’m not at all surprised-“

“Wait, wait,” Castle murmurs, his blood running cold, freezing through his system, turning his body heavy. “Pregnant?”

Fisher’s brow hitches. “Oh, I’m - I’m sorry. I just assumed… well, it is rather early. Something tells me your wife may not even know. But she’s about five weeks and she is extremely lucky the fetus is still heavily cushioned within the womb. By the looks of it,” the doctor continues, returning his gaze back to the papers in his hands, scanning quickly over the page. “She was on the verge of a potential miscarriage, which I’d say also contributed to the fainting.”

“But she - she and the baby, they’re both okay? Will be okay?” Castle utters, his palms beginning to sweat, Kate’s fingers slipping through his grasp.

“Fortunately, yes. Though, not if your wife carries on like this. Both mother and child are in great need of nourishment. The IV drip is helping tonight, but once she’s discharged-“

“I’ll make sure she gets back to full health,” Rick pledges, jerking his attention back to the pale hollows of Kate’s face, the shadows clinging to her bones, the black wings of her lashes at rest atop her cheeks, her chapped lips. Oh, how he yearns to take care of her.

“I’m sure you will, Mr. Castle,” Fisher responds kindly. “Were there any other questions you may have had?”

“No, thank you, I…” Rick pauses, glances back to the doctor. “Is there a way - I know it’s still tiny, but could we - is there a way to have an ultrasound when Kate wakes up? So we can see?”

Fisher’s lips spread into a warm smile. “Sure, Mr. Castle. Your baby is about the size of a pea right now, but I’m sure one of my nurses could get a good look for you both, print out a picture for you.”

“That’d be - thank you. That’d be perfect,” Castle manages, already turning back to Kate as the doctor nods his acceptance, silently eases the door shut behind him.

He whispers his fingers over her stomach, careful to stay clear of the bullet wound that nearly took their baby. Their baby.

They were having a baby.

“You have to stay,” Castle breathes, his hand traveling to her cheek as his body ascends from the chair. “Whatever’s going on, we have to figure it out together, Kate.”

Her skin is like paper beneath the sweep of his thumb to her jaw, the plane of her cheek stretch thin, and Rick sighs, strokes his fingers through the loose strands of her hair splayed across the pillow beneath her head.

“I love you too much, Beckett. And this baby… it needs-“

“Baby?” she rasps, her eyes struggling to flutter open, but eventually managing the task, peeling back to expose the dulled pools of golden brown. Her brow furrows deep, but she tilts into his touch, hums at the cup of his palm to her cheek. “Don’t call me that.”

Castle chokes on a laugh, scales his thumb along one of her eyebrows to smooth out the wrinkle of her face.

“Different baby,” he murmurs, but Kate continues to stare up at him in confusion, confirmation that Fisher must have been right. She doesn’t know. “Earlier, when you were about to leave-“

“I don’t want to leave,” she rasps, the sorrow rushing in quick, consuming her features, causing them to crumple beneath his fingertips. “I thought I had to, but I can’t. Can’t go-“

“No, you can’t,” he echoes in relief, bending forward to stain his lips to the skin of her forehead. “Won’t let you go, Kate.”

She releases a breath that flutters up to tickle the column of his throat, one of her hands rising to curl at his nape, hold him there.

“Good.”

A smile twitches along the corners of his mouth, but he inhales a deep breath through his nose before he speaks again, knows what has to come next.

“Kate, while you were out, the doctors ran some tests,” Castle begins, easing back, her hand falling away to trip down his arm until he can catch her fingers in the embrace of his.

“Something wrong?” she mumbles, staring back at him in concern, her voice still rough with sleep, her eyes still slow to rise with every blink. She could fade on him at any moment.

“No, you’re going to be okay,” he promises, feeling her hand squeeze his, but her eyes still seek with question. “But they, uh, found something out. Something I don’t think you knew.”

“Hmm?”

“You’re about five weeks pregnant,” he exhales, watches as the words crash into her, send her eyes going wide, her hand to her lips.

“Pregnant?” she repeats, glancing down to her stomach, back to him. “I’m - I had no idea. How… holy shit.”

Castle laughs, a little hysterically, but a genuine smile is blossoming along Beckett’s mouth, tentative and gentle like the hand she lowers to her abdomen, her gaze drifting to follow.

“Is the baby okay?” she asks suddenly, her eyes flying back to him with fierce concern, but Castle nods.

“Yeah, you’re both fine. Just need more fluids, better eating habits, vitamins,” Castle lists, watching her nod along in agreement. “Are you okay with this? I know we’ve talked about it, but never really… and you were ready to leave me, so I don’t know-“

“I wasn’t leaving because I wanted to,” she confesses, her hand seeking his fingers once more amidst the starched sheets of the hospital bed. “It’s a long story and I promise to tell you all of it, but I never wanted to leave you, Rick. I was just trying… I wanted to keep you safe.”

Oh, he already hates the sound of this, the idea of his wife thinking she has to leave him to protect him. Her eyes already shimmer with apologies, the upturned corners of her mouth tugged down into a frown, and Castle sighs.

“We’ll talk about it once we’re home,” he murmurs, accepting the curl of her fingers, twining their digits until their palms seal together, and then he bends forward once more, smears a kiss to his wife’s mouth that has her involuntarily arching to reach him. “But no more solo missions, Kate. Partners.”

She hums her agreement, biting down on her bottom lip and nuzzling her nose to his cheek as her eyes fall closed again, and the painful throb of his heart finally slows into a peaceful rhythm. “Now more than ever.”

WIP Week Day 3: Canon-verse WIP

There’s canon-verse fic and then there’s canon-verse fic: Sweet Cider by the Fireside (aka Sad Widow Fic, for Day 1 of Mag7 Week) is as canon as it can be, if by canon you mean historically realistic. Here’s a section about Martha Hamilton visiting her friend Sarah:

At midweek she took the time to visit Sarah MacPherson, to bring her contribution of quilt blocks for the meeting they would have on Saturday for Mrs Carter’s daughter Grace, soon to be wed and needing help with her marriage chest. Martha and Sarah never spent an afternoon together in idleness; if there were not regular work to do, putting up preserves or stitching shirts for the poor barrel at church, then they were busy at tasks that went easier with two pairs of hands, cutting dresses for themselves or refilling a straw mattress; but any task was more quickly and pleasantly done with the accompaniment of conversation and good company.

 Sarah had always been her closest friend, before Francis died and after, and one of the few individuals, Hannah aside, to whom Martha felt she could speak her mind without fear of censure or indiscretion. Their friendship had grown from common experience, when they found themselves both newcomers to the town and recently married; over the years she had shared Sarah’s anxieties at her elder son’s quarrelling with Mr MacPherson, and her sorrow when he finally packed his bag and went out West, his infrequent letters soon trickling to a stop; she’d laid bare her own resignation at her and Francis’ childlessness, and in more recent time she had found some of the indignities of poverty lessened by shared humour and understanding. And now …

She had nothing to say, of course, no more than to report the success of Preacher Cade’s arrangement and the satisfactory course of the cidermaking, her surprise at Mr Robicheaux’s gentlemanly manners and good companionship, and her gratification that his friend should be returning to health. And Sarah ventured nothing more than approval of the circumstance, and pleasure that a charitable impulse should be rewarded. 

They spoke of many other matters too, of the need to lay in provisions for the winter, of Abigail Williams’ new dress that she had worn on Sunday, of plans for the Carters’ wedding supper. But when she finished her tea at the afternoon’s end and put on her shawl to leave, Sarah enveloped her in a hug, sudden and warm. ‘It’s good to see you so well, Martha,’ she said, kissing her cheek, and joy fizzed up inside her, sweet and fragrant.

Full Confession:

The one thing I miss in the old games are the hearts to show you how much marriage candidates liked you. The flowers are pretty, but what I loved about the heart indicator was that they would put the hearts near the marriage candidates chest in their portraits and it was like their heart was beating. Especially for FOMT and MFOMT, ‘cause the hearts were right there on their chests and I thought it was a charming feature. Seeing a giant red beating heart on the chest of the marriage candidate you want to marry is just so satisfying.

Gay marriage is legal in the USA!

I know this has nothing to do with Fairy Tail, but I don’t care.  I have to express my overwhelming happiness over this Supreme Court ruling!

This is something to celebrate, something to finally be proud of for my country. Hopefully, this is the start of new direction for the US - a new path of equality and civil rights for EVERYONE.

God, I’m just really happy - I feel like I’m going to cry!