save the last trance for me

anonymous asked:

Can Claire and Jamie go camping? I think they need a getaway.... :)

Flood my Mornings: Vermont (i)

Notes from Mod Bonnie

  • This story takes place in an AU in which Jamie travels through the stones two years after Culloden and finds Claire and his child in 1950 Boston.

Late June, 1951

James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser was an impressive sight at any time of the day or year. 

Naked, silhouetted against a bright summer moon; the curve of leg and hip and scar all gilded into sharp edges by the glow of the fire behind him… he was positively primordial, ancient man surveying the vast wilderness.

 “God, it’s just…..”

He didn’t finish the sentence, just stood there on the verge of our mountaintop, taking in the sight of the sleeping valley below.

I could have finished the sentence for him, though: …like home.

The Green Mountains of Vermont—or this section of them, anyway— were quite similarly beautiful to those of Scotland. The main difference was the trees, of course: in contrast to the sparse, heathered slopes of Jamie’s birthplace, every inch of these mountains was covered in lush forests that spiced the air with the tangs of evergreen and leaf mold. Still, looking out across the horizon, the ranges had that same rolling and dipping quality, that sense of movement about them that felt so much like the Highlands. One could almost imagine looking down into one of these valleys and seeing the roof of Lallybroch below, enticingly belching smoke from the fires of Mrs. Crook’s promised supper.

and I supposed that Jamie was doing just that. 

I left him to dwell in the serenity of the moment, there at the top of the horizon. My own peace was complete, astonishing in its sensory fullness: 

the beauty of the night, of the rolling valley far below, 

a warm breeze across my naked skin, the same that swelled the forest into a rustling, shushing chorus,

the afterglow of lovemaking pulsing gently through me, there in our nest of blankets by the fire on the mountaintop, 

and Jamie. Always, Jamie. 

Tom and Marian had many times this year offered us the use of their mountain cabin in Vermont. Between work schedules, my schooling, pregnancy, and the general hustle and bustle of normal life, we simply hadn’t made the time for such a lavish treat as a holiday away. At last, though, with the academic term over and with the baby due in just over a month, we’d decided that getting away, just the two of us, was just the thing. Lord knew, once a nursing infant was in the mix, it could be quite some time before we could do so again.

Jamie, true to form, had fretted over me for weeks leading up to our departure, trying to call the whole thing off. ‘Sassenach, what if the bairn comes early?’….”There willna be a hospital for miles and miles. What if something happens?’….‘If ye think I can deliver a child, woman, you’re WRONG.’ 

But at last, he’d had no choice (short of chaining me to the house, that is) but to relent, and the further we drove westward, the higher the elevation rose, the quieter he became. His eyes got wider and wider, the glory of being among mountains soaking into him like sunshine.

After settling our things in the cabin earlier that afternoon (’Rustic,’ the Harpers had warned us)(’Better equipped than any Highland castle,’ Jamie had snorted as we walked in and saw the full kitchen), we’d made a few hasty sandwiches and ventured out for a walk before the light went. The vistas were absolutely spectacular, even more so when the skies were painted with the pinks and scarlets of sunset. 

Jamie had built us a fire a few hundred yards from the house, when we got back, just near the overlook, and we’d spent hours snuggled together before it, toasting marshmallows, sipping hot chocolate heated over the coals, laughing and talking and telling stories as the stars brightened overhead. 

At last, the quiet and beauty of the night had settled around us, and we’d made love there in the clearing, slowly and sweetly. For a very long time after, we’d lain panting and trembling, cocooned together in perfect calm, no demands on our time save enjoyment of one another. 

….and, eventually, pragmatically, those of Jamie’s bladder.

From somewhere in the woods, there came the sound of something large moving about; a deer, I thought, since Jamie was not reaching for an absent knife. He did start, though, the lively night pulling him out of his trance. Assured there was no danger, he turned to me with a slightly-sheepish grin. “Forgive me, mo chridhe, I was lost in fancy.” He began picking his way across the grass back toward the fire. “Feeling alright, Sassenach? All well?”

Very well,” I promised, “as long as you don’t make me move from this spot.” I burrowed further into the blankets in illustration. “Couldn’t budge for all the tea in China.” 

“Dinna fash, lass.” He crouched beside me and provided a very entertaining view as he slid his hands under me, “I’ll carry ye up to bed.”

“No, you won’t,” I said, neatly rolling away. “We’re sleeping out here.”

Certainly we are,” he laughed, rolling me back, “are not.” 

“Why ever not?” 

He gave me a look. “Ye think I’m going to let my eight-months-gone wife sleep like an animal on the cold ground?” 

“It isn’t cold.” I raised an eyebrow. “And you’d not have given it a second thought, back in Scotland, would you?”

He blinked, then laughed. “Christ, you’re right,” he groaned, putting a knee down and scrubbing a hand over his face. “I’ve become quite the pampered popinjay in only a year, aye?”

“Well, you can earn your tough-as-saddle-leather badge back tonight. Come here,” I wheedled, patting the blankets. “Come keep your lady warm for the night.”

He obliged, coming in to settle spoon-fashion behind me. “My lady,” he murmured, precisely as I breathed, “God, a year…

We both laughed and exhaled together.

He kissed my neck. “It’s been a wonderful year, mo ghraidh.”

“To think that this time last year…” I shuddered and kissed his hand. “No, it doesn’t do to think of what life was, last June.”

“No,” he agreed, “it doesna.” 

He’d been close to starvation on the streets of Boston, scouring the streets and hospitals for any news of me, my whereabouts. I’d been—I’d just been. I’d loved my work, adored Bree; but apart from the promise of seeing her grow up happy and loved….I hadn’t much hopeNow…

“I guess that means this could almost be a wedding anniversary trip, couldn’t it?”

“Which one?”


“Which wedding?”

I laughed, surprised. “Well, I did mean the one last year, but I guess we’re pretty close to our first as well. When would it have been? June? Late June?” 

“I canna recall the precise date,” he admitted, running his hands up my thigh and onto the huge curve of my belly, “but that seems correct.” 

“And our twentieth-century anniversary is the 8th of July…meaning you found me in July….and little wiggleworm, here, should be born in either July or August…” I snuggled back against him and pulled his arm tighter around me, sighing happily.  “Good things tend to happen to us in the summertime, don’t they?” 

He kissed his way down the curve of my shoulder. “Aye, they certainly do.” 

“I’d like the bairns to know a place like this,” he murmured a while later into my neck. 

“The cabin?” I had very nearly nodded off in the cozy silence that had intervened. My voice was scratchy and sleepy. “Why is that, love?”

Jamie didn’t immediately answer; and when he did, I was surprised to hear a slight hesitation in his voice, a carefulness in his words that bespoke unease. “Ye ken I love our life, Claire, aye?” 

I nodded and squeezed his hand. 

“It’s more than I could ever have dreamed of, let alone have hoped to have for myself, for you, and for them.” He pulled me closer with one hand and spread the other absently over my belly. “I’m so grateful,” he whispered with deep feeling, “for the safety; the plenty; our home; having the income to take care of our family in comfort; that you’re able to pursue your profession; that the bairns will be able to pursue theirs, one day, wi’ nothing like birthplace or station to hold them back…. I wouldna trade our life for anything.”

I reached behind to stroke his hip, waiting. 

“…But I also canna shake some sense in my heart that—that this is how things are meant to be.”

“Naked in the woods?” I teased gently.

“Aye,” he laughed, just what I’d wanted, his unease evaporating in a moment, “exactly so.” He ran his hand across my legs, coming up to cup my breast. “Nothing but my brown-haired lass, naked in my arms…” An intake of breath hissed gently from us in unison as we felt the sudden shifting within me. “And new life, promised to us….”

We lay still, his hand over mine as we gloried in feeling little Ian moving about. I wondered if he was dreaming. 

That they may be sweet, little love. 

“But I suppose I meant, this out-of-door life,” Jamie said at last. “Wild, living things. Animals. Forests and burns. Hunting. Sleeping under the stars, among the hea—among the trees and the grasses. Tracking and tending the land. Mountains,” he said, with quiet intensity. “I want them to know mountains.” 

I pulled him as close as I could. “We will make this part of our life, Jamie, if you wish it.”

“We will?”

“We’ll come on holiday with them as often as we can, just like this. And, eventually—Well, it can’t be all the time, particularly not once I’ve started medical training; but as soon as we can afford it, maybe we’ll have a second home somewhere wild, somewhere like this.”

“A second home?” he asked, dubious. “Folk keep two houses, then?”

“Not all, not even most; but Tom and Marian manage it, don’t they?” 

“Aye,” he said slowly as he glanced up at the house, considering, “Aye, just so….But Tom owns the whole of Fernacre. Will we truly ever have the means to afford such extravagance?” 

“MDs make some of the best money available,” I said, as simply as I could, “and other than being charitable and giving as much away as we can manage, I can’t think of a more worthwhile way to use that financial freedom, than to give you this.”

“….Thank you, Sassenach.” He sounded absolutely gutted with earnest gratitude, like someone that had just been handed an infinite fortune with no caveat. “Truly.” 

“Well, thank me when and if I actually get admitted to medical school.” I groaned with that sudden, familiar wash of visceral anxiety. “If, if, if.”  

When,” he insisted, as he always did. “WHEN.” 

We settled in, held tight together in a warm heap of love, letting sleep wash over us. 

“Somewhere wi’ a mountain?” Jamie murmured just before I slipped completely under. 

“I promise.”


The clank of a metal flask against the floor is near-deafening in the sudden silence.

“Cas?” Dean breathes out in disbelief, watching the drops of holy water hang off the eyelashes over the man’s blue eyes, glimmering on his chapped lips, dripping onto his tie off his chin. “Cas,” he says louder, ignoring the crack in his voice, “is it really you?”

Dean’s dreamed about this very moment every night since he kneeled beside Cas’s lifeless body. Every time the circumstances ever so different; in accidental encounters and in dramatic reveals, in a blink of an eye or in slow motion. Every cliché scenario, never plausible enough to be real.

And now he’s got this—so simple, so fitting. Cas swooping in the last moment and saving the day, just like he was never gone.

“It’s really me,” Cas replies, wiping the water off with the sleeve of his trenchcoat. A trace of annoyance lingers in the crease on his brow.

Sure, splashing him with holy water was pretty useless, what with a dozen things worse than demons that could have been playing a trick on Dean. But it was the least he could do, faced with his long-dead best friend.

“We have to leave this place,” Cas hurries, grasping Dean’s shoulder to try and shake him out of his semi-trance. “There’s more of them coming.”

“How?” Dean doesn’t move an inch. Every fiber of his being tells him this cannot be true, it’s impossible, Cas is dead. Angel-blade-through-the-grace, scorched-wings-on-the-ground-dead. Yet each fiber tells him that it is true. It’s Cas. He’s here. What’s he to believe? “I saw you die! We buried you, I—” He swallows. It’s not the time to relive it all again: every painful second after Lucifer’s blade pierced Cas’s chest, every dumb risk Dean took for a chance to bring Cas back, failed. “How?” he repeats.

Cas shakes his head. “I’ll tell you everything, later. We need to go now!”

Dean draws in a breath. “Okay.” He nods.

But before Cas can turn away, take a step, Dean shoots forward, grabs a handful of Cas’s coat, just to pull him in. His arms Dean wraps tightly around Cas’s shoulders, one palm sinking into Cas’s hair. He pushes his nose into the white collar of his shirt to take him all in: his smell, his heat, the solidity of him.

He’s here. Cas is here. Alive.

Cas’s arms close around Dean’s middle, pressing their bodies closer.

He’s alive and, all the evil sons of bitches be damned, Dean’s not letting go of him.

“Thought I’d never see you,” Dean says against his neck. “How could you do that, you dumbass? How could you just die and— What if—if you didn’t come b—” Dean’s dreamed about this moment so many times he should have better words prepared for him. A welcome speech that starts with a joke and doesn’t end in choked-out sounds. “Was so afraid, Cas.”

“Dean,” Cas murmurs in his gravelly timbre, “you know me.” Though Dean fights it, Cas pulls away, just enough to look into his eyes. “I always come when you call.”

“Thought you wouldn’t,” Dean whispers, like an afterthought that keeps echoing in his head. He lets Cas let go of him and breaks away.

“I did,” Cas assures him, no longer attentive of him. They’re coming. Cas yanks at Dean’s sleeve. “But we need to go, now, Dean!”

“Kay, let’s go.”

Dean takes the briefest moment to snatch his flask from the floor, as Cas starts for the door. He’s only a few steps behind, nearly catching up.

“Hurry, Dean!” Cas waves at him with one hand, the other holding onto the doorframe.

Dean never lets his eyes off Cas. He’s almost there, not much further now, if he doesn’t stop—

Bright light bursts out from Cas’s chest.

“No!” A yell rips out of Dean’s throat. “Cas!”

He’s trying to reach him but it’s too far. And it’s too late. He doesn’t even need to see the blade; the bluish light of a dying grace Dean knows all too well. He’s dreamed of it every night. Of Cas’s limp body falling to the ground, dead. The shadows of his wings burned into the ground.

Dean jolts awake into the darkness of his bedroom. His lungs racing to pump the air, heart thumping like a jackhammer. There is no light, there is no blade. And there’s no Cas. Not here, not anywhere. Dean doesn’t need to check each room in the bunker to make sure. He doesn’t need to knock the door of Cas’s bedroom and get silence for an answer. Cas’s body’s still rotting in the grave Dean put him in. Back when he still had hope, still had spells left to try, bargains left to make. When he still had time left to pass by the time Cas should be back. Because Cas always comes back. Always.

But not this time. Because, maybe, Dean’s run out of miracles.

With his palm, Dean wipes off the tears that welled in his eyes. There’s less and less of them each night. He sinks his head back into the pillow, lets his eyelids fall. He’s dreamed about Cas’s return every night since his death. In so many different ways, each plausible enough to make his heart ache when he wakes up.

All impossible enough to keep closing his eyes.

Bray Wyatt - “Made for me”

Part 1 
Requested: by a couple of people 
Warnings: None
Words: 1100+

The doctor cleared you, no injuries, no concussion just some bruises. Bayley took you back to the hotel, she was freaked. As you laid in bed you played with the locket, staring at it intensely. This whole situation was just weird. Why you? Why was Bray so obsessed with you? After saving you, you’d think Bray would make some sort of contact. He didn’t. The whole week you tried to find him, to no avail.

“Maybe just leave him” Bayley said as the two of you got ready in the locker room. 

Keep reading

Familiar (Obi-Wan Kenobi/Sibling)

Request: Oh yes! Imagine being a Sith and finding out that Obi Wan and Ani are held hostage at your station so you set them free. Later, when they’re safe, Anakin notices that Obi is way too silent and looks sad so he asks why and Obi says that the Sith that set them free was his long-lost sister

A/N: I have a feeling already that I’m going to make a part two of this. 

You had been a Sith for 11 years, training under Count Dooku and Darth Sidious. You weren’t a huge fan of the later, so you often just stuck to Dooku. 

You had learned a lot in the past 11 years, and had also grown a lot. You formed your own opinions, including that the Darth Sidious was a bad person, and had bad plans for the Galaxy. Dooku was just a pawn in his game, as were you. 

But in order to survive, you stayed silent. You knew the day would come when you ran from the Sith, but for now you’d wait out the storm.

You were still in training, so you often spent your days on Dooku’s space station. Occasionally, he’d take you on smaller missions with him. He was a harsh cruel man to most people, but he had a bit of a soft spot for you.

He had found you when you were 13 years old. You had lost your parents five years before that, and had been living on your own since. You were so lonely, a tiny little thing living on the streets.

Dooku had sensed you, he felt how strong you were in the Force. So he came to you, and you welcomed his company. He showed you kindness, and you felt a little less lonely when you were around him.

So when he told you about the Force, and offered to train you as his apprentice, you immediately said yes. 

Today, Dooku had come back to the space station with two prisoners. You noticed they were Jedi, and your curiosity was instantly spiked. He noticed you, and gestured for you to join him.

“There’s my apprentice. No problems while I was gone?” He asked as you walked in front of him. You glanced at the two Jedi, and you felt a nagging in your stomach when you looked to the second one.

He was older, probably in his early thirties. He had copper colored hair, hair which you could tell had fallen from its normally clean combed look. He had a full beard, touches of blonde here and there. But his eyes… his eyes were so familiar. They were a bright blue, the very same color as yours. You felt like you knew those eyes… but how?

“No Master.” You said, turning your attention back to him.

“Good.” He said, placing a hand on your shoulders and leading you to walk beside him. “How is your training coming along?”

“Quite well Master, I’ve mastered the Jedi mind tricks.” You told him, and he smiled at you slightly.

“Have you? Would you care to demonstrate?” He asked, and you nodded with a smirk. You called over one of his soldiers, and you stared into his eyes. 

“You will tell me everything I need to know, and you will tell me truthfully.” You said, your voice soft and demanding. You knew the Jedi were watching you, you could feel their stares. 

“I will tell you everything you need to know, and I will tell you truthfully.” The man responded, his eyes glazed over in a trance.

“Who really attempted to kill the General last week?” You asked. Last week, someone had tried to kill General Grievous so that they could rise in power. But Darth Sidious had ben able to save him, and now he was more droid-like. He was still Grievous… but he wasn’t. 

“It was Briggs.” The man answered robotically, and you glanced back at your Master. 

“I’ll deal with him later.” He said, his eyes angry. You nodded, turning back to the soldier. 

“You suddenly feel tired.” 

“I suddenly feel tired.”

“You will forget this conversation happened.”

“I will forget this conversation happened.” 

“Sleep.” With that, the soldier passed out on the ground in front of you. Dooku laughed, ordering another soldier to carry the man away.

“Well done.” Dooku complemented, and you felt a smile form on your lips. “Yes, I think you’ll be joining me very soon as a full Sith.” He said, a confident look in his eyes. “You can have the afternoon off, go flying if you wish.” You nodded, bowing slightly before you left. You felt the eyes of the older Jedi following you, and the nagging in your stomach continued. 

As the day passed, the nagging feeling wouldn’t go away. You’d tried flying, training, anything to distract yourself. But nothing seemed to work.

Which is why you found yourself growling as you headed towards the cells. You knew they shouldn’t be here, and the Force was telling you to free them. It frustrated you, but you couldn’t fight off the feeling. So begrudgingly, you decided to act on the feeling. 

When you approached the guards, you knocked them both out, making sure that they wouldn’t remember what had happened. 

You walked into the abandoned room, finding the two Jedi locked together in a cell. They were a bit banged up, but otherwise fine. 

Both looked up when you entered, remaining silent. The cooper-haired Jedi was staring at you, as if trying to put together a puzzle. 

“If you want to get out of here, you’ll listen to me and do as I say, got it?” You demanded, looking over your shoulder to make sure the door was shut. 

“Who are you?” The younger Jedi asked suspiciously, his eyes distrustful. You rolled your own, about to respond sassily, until the older Jedi cut you off.

“Y/N.” The older man breathed, his eyes wide with shock. You looked at him in confusion, but there was still the nagging feeling as if he were familiar. But why?

“How do you know my name?” You asked, looking at the other Jedi to see if he had any ideas. The younger Jedi just shrugged, not having a clue. 

“Why are you with the Sith?” He asked, ignoring your question. You were irritated at that, but answered anyway. 

“The Sith took me in when no one else would. I was alone, I had no family. Now I do. Maybe I don’t like their ways all that much, but I had no where else to go.” You told him, and a look of quilt flashed across his eyes. 

“You have no family?” He asked hesitantly, but he needed to know more.

“I think I had a brother once, when I was much younger. But then he left, and a year later my parents died in a raid.” You said, and the man looked upset. “So then I was on my own, until Count Dooku found me. He said I was sensitive to the Force, and he’d train me. And now here I am.” 

“I’m sorry.” The Jedi said, and it made you feel weird. But you shook off the feeling, returning to your emotionless mask.

“It doesn’t matter. Now do you want to get out of here or not?” The two Jedi nodded, and you continued. “Then no more questions. Do whatever I say, and stay quiet.” You said, unlocking the door. 

They stepped out, looking around the hall hesitantly. You pushed both of them forward, watching behind your back for any guards. The two that you had knocked out where still in the same place when you passed, and the two Jedi looked back at you in shock. 

“I never liked them anyway. “You shrugged, pushing the closest one to you, the familiar one, down the hall. They both continued, and you quietly and quickly cleared your way through every hallway. 

Twenty minutes later, you were back to the Jedi’s ship, and they rushed towards it. The older Jedi hesitated, looking back at you.

“Why are you doing this?” He asked, his blue eyes staring into yours. 

“I don’t know.” You responded, and it was the truth. You didn’t know why he seemed so familiar, why you felt like you had to help him. But you did it, and you felt like it was right. 

“Come with us.” He said suddenly, and you looked at him in shock. “You don’t belong here. You could train with the Jedi… I could train you.” He pleaded, and you felt like you wanted to follow him. But for now, you couldn’t.

“Maybe in time. But for now, my place is here.” You said, and he looked sad. “Now go, you haven’t much time.” You spoke hastily, and he nodded. 

With one last glance towards you, he disappeared up onto the ship. He made his way into the cockpit with his Padawan, and silently took a seat. Usually he’d tell Anakin not to kill them with his flying, or tell him to slow down, but he just stayed quiet as Anakin took off into the sky. 

Anakin grew suspicious, sensing the sadness in his Master. After the silence stretched on, Anakin couldn’t ignore it any longer.  

“Master, we’re free. We’re alive and can return to the Council and tell them what we have learned. So why are you so upset?” Anakin asked, glancing at the man who was slowly becoming like a father to him. He’d seen him angry, irritated, happy, serious, annoyed, sarcastic- but he’d never seen him upset like this. 

“I knew her Anakin.” Obi-Wan responded as the ship began taking off. His eyes were glazed over, as if lost in memories.

“Who? The Sith that let us go?” Anakin asked, looking over at his Master for a brief moment. When Obi-Wan nodded, he continued. “How?”

“She was my sister.” Anakin was beyond shocked by the words that came out of his Masters mouth, and he nearly lost control of the ship.

“She.. what?”

“She was my sister Anakin.”Obi-Wan said, his voice so sad and full of pain. “I just left her, I left her so that I could become a Jedi. I left her, only for her to be completely alone a year later. And now she’s with the Sith, and it’s all my fault.” He spat angrily, burying his face in his hands in frustration. 

Anakin didn’t know what to do, so he placed a reassuring hand on his Master’s back.

“You felt it though, didn’t you Master?” Anakin asked, and Obi-Wan looked up at him. “The light. She wasn’t like the other Sith, there was good in her. She can be saved.”

Obi-Wan felt a hope fill his heart as they took off into hyperspace, a hope so strong he knew it to be true.

“I will save you, Y/N. I’ll come back for you sister.”

You were watching as the ship took off, making sure they escaped undetected. You felt the pang of familiarity again, centered around the older Jedi who had known your name.

Suddenly, you realized why he had been so familiar to you. The haze lifted from your eyes, and you remembered the boy you had loved so dearly as a child. 

“Obi-Wan.” You whispered as you watched the ship disappear into the sky. All of your memories came rushing back then, of him taking care of you as a child. How much you loved and looked up to him. He was your world at one point, your best friend and brother. How could you have forgot about him? 

When the ship was completely out of sight, you turned and headed back into the station, making a promise to yourself. 

“I’ll see you again brother.” 

Part Two

Unspoken (Part 2)

Title: Unspoken (Final Part)

Characters: Dean x Reader, Sam, Amara

Summary: When you and Sam go off on your own to face Amara, it doesn’t exactly go as planned. Dean shows up just in time to stop Amara from killing you by offering himself to her. 

Based on this imagine: Dean’s love for you is so strong it breaks him free of Amara’s connection to him. (Sorry I have no idea where I saw this so I can’t link it!)

Word Count: ~4,300

A/N (important!): Ok so there’s a lot of cannon divergence here. I started writing this before the finale and more towards that episode when Dean kissed Amara and there was that whole theme of him not being on control of himself around her and wanting to kill her but also not wanting to hurt her (etc.) So this is highly based on that idea. I really love Amara and how the finale worked out and this is SUPER different from how her character turned out to be. Just so you’re not confused.

This hasn’t been my favorite or my best, but I liked the idea so I ran with it. Let me know what you though!

Read Part 1 First!

You sat in the passenger seat of the Impala, staring out the window and listening to the soft hum of acoustic guitar streaming through the crackling radio. Sam gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles, turning down a long and winding road where you were meant to face Amara.

The wooden shard from the Ark sat delicately in your lap, wrapped in a thinly lined cloth. Sam eyed it every once in awhile as he passed over a bump in the road. You couldn’t tell if he was doing so in awe or if he was afraid his last shot at saving the world would suddenly vanish if he looked away for even a second.

You sighed, your stare accidently flashing to the rearview mirror where you saw nothing but cool leather and empty spaces. You hated leaving Dean behind. It felt unnatural for you to be out on a case with Sam without him. Dean was always there, even when you didn’t always want him to be. It had taken hours to get him to stay put in the bunker. He understood that he couldn’t be near Amara but he couldn’t stand the idea of you and Sam going off to face her alone.

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Above & Beyond @ The Great Saltair SLC ‘Get Lucky’ St. Patricks day event 3.22.14 

“Need love?”

“Everyone needs love.”

“Leave this place with more friends than you arrived with.”

“There’s love.”

Above & Beyonds music saved my life when I thought I couldn’t handle staying here anymore. I thought it was the end for me, but I discovered their music and it helped me get through so much.

Last night I experienced the best thing in the world. I had waited over four years to see A&B, and I finally got to last night. When they started playing Sun & Moon, tears started coming out of my eyes. A girl walked up to me and said I was the most beautiful person that she had ever seen, and I lost it. I could not stop crying because I was so happy. I had never once cried out of happiness in my life but last night it happened. Thank you Above & Beyond, for everything that your music has done for me and my friends. Thank you for connecting me with people all over the world. Thank you for saving my life.

What was Clexa’s ‘gayest’ moment so far?
  1. Lexa looks at Clarke for the first time (2x07)
  2. Clexa look at each other intensely after Lincoln is saved (2x07)
  3. Clarke says ‘yu gonplei ste odon’ and Lexa stares (2x09)
  4. Lexa asks Clarke to drink with her (2x10)
  5. “Jomp em op en yu jomp ai op” (2x10)
  6. Clarke shoots the gorilla and Lexa stares at her in awe (2x10)
  7. Lexa was ready to die, but Clarke tells her she’s not ready so suddenly Lexa is all Xena the Warrior Princess (2x10)
  8. Clarke making sure Lexa gets away safely first (2x10)
  9. Lexa watches over Clarke sleeping (2x10)
  10. “Your heart shows no sign of weakness” scene (looking at boobs and meaningful eye contact included) (2x10)
  11. Clarke grabs Lexa’s arm and turns her around, Lexa steps forward forcing the blonde to step back, meaningful looks ensue (2x12)
  12. Lexa worriedly calls after Clarke when she goes save Abby (2x12)
  13. Lexa goes after Clarke and yanks her out of her trance (2x13)
  14. “People died for this, Lexa,” and then Clarke looks into Lexa’s eyes, then chest, then away (2x14)
  15. Lexa stares at Clarke for like a year when they’re in her tent talking about the plan (2x14)
  16. Lexa is jealous (2x14)
  17. Clarke backs Lexa against the table (2x14)
  18. “Not everyone. Not you.” (2x14)
  19. Clarke realises Lexa cares for her and looks at her lips before saying “Well if you care about me then trust me.” (2x14)
  20. Clarke looks at Lexa’s lips one last time before storming out of her tent
  21. Clexa have a hard time breathing after that intense scene (2x14)
  22. “I do trust you… Clarke.” (2x14)
  23. Lexa’s thirstiness and “maybe we do” right before she kisses Clarke (2x14)
  24. The Kiss + The Nose Thing™ (2x14)
  25. Lexa’s enraptured expression right after The Kiss (2x14)
  26. Clarke and Lexa’s meaningful looks during the “Now we fight” shots (2x14)
  27. Clexa lead the arm together and look at each other and smile (2x14)
  28. Clexa continually sneak glances while explaining the plan (2x15)
  29. Lexa asks Clarke to go with her to Polis, plus “You already have.” (2x15)
  30. Clexa press the button together (2x15)
  31. The dagger scene (season 3 trailer)


Captain Swan + Enchanted Forest for 19weeksofcs

I know I’m horribly late but writing that Swan Believer bit yesterday opened a can of worms and here I am today posting another little fic, this time all about Captain Swan. It’s a bit of speculation about them arriving in Camelot. This is unbetaed so if you find anything disturbingly wrong with it just send me a message and I’ll do my best to correct it

(Whether or not they have sex in the tub is up to your interpretation)

King Arthur and Queen Guinevere had insisted upon throwing a ball to welcome such honored guests to their kingdom. Everyone, Emma especially, had tried to explain that it wasn’t necessary. They just needed information on Merlin’s whereabouts, maybe accommodations for a night’s sleeps and they would be on their way. Sir Lancelot, whose presence had been a surprise to her and Snow after their debacle with Cora, had assured them that the wizard was already on his way to Camelot, having seen the group’s arrival and their reason for seeking him. They were to expect him in two days’ time. Besides, preparations for the ball were already underway and the invitations had been sent. They wouldn’t want to disappoint anyone.

Emma took Killian’s offered arm without hesitation as the knights of the round table lead them towards the castle. Her first moments as the Dark One had been filled with fear and apprehension towards everything that was going on inside her. Her feelings were at war and her light magic could barely co-exist with the power of darkness. Her thoughts had been a jumbled mess, the vision of Gold in full Rumplestiltskin regalia and her inability to control all that magic at first had thrown her off.

And when she’d finally been left alone, she remembered her last moments in Storybrooke.

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