some fic

After Padmé dies, a myriad of legends spring up around her, most of the dealing with the strange circumstances of her death. The Empire encourages the ones that say she was killed by a Jedi traitor, while the Rebels favor one that says she was murdered to keep her from fighting back for democracy.

The truth remains shrouded in mystery, as only one person knows what really happened, and her killer would never tell. 

Still, truth matters little to legend and myth, and her story continues. Rebels and Imperials alike claim that she is watching over them, protecting them in their diplomatic endeavors.

The people of Naboo like to tell that Padmé Amidala came to Naboo from either the ocean or the moon, depending on who you ask, a gift from one of the goddesses in Naboo’s hour of need. Once Naboo was safe, she was called back, but should their planet ever need her again, Queen Amidala would return.

Legends about her life are also fairly popular, about how she once fought a nexu with her bare hands, no five nexus! 

About how she tricked the clever Hutts into giving her what she wanted without having to give them anything in return. 

About how she was fierce enough that the Duchess of Mandalore once begged her to renounce Naboo and become a Mandalorian. 

About how she was so kind that the Jedi themselves begged her to teach them of compassion. 

About how she was so beautiful that Death itself wanted her for a bride and stole her away.

There is only one legend about her baby, although there are many variations on it, but all agree on the beginning: One of Queen Amidala’s Jedi friends was there when she died, the High General maybe, and he stole her baby and tricked the doctors into thinking she had never given birth. Just what that Jedi was doing with her baby was a matter of some debate.

The baby was being raised as a prince or princess, to one day rule a planet and rally it against the Empire.

The baby was being raised by poor peasants, farmers maybe, while the Jedi looked on, a silent protector. The baby grew up brave and strong, but with few worries.

The baby was raised by the Jedi, trained to fight the Sith.

The baby was being raised by Rebels, brought up on tales of the need for democracy, and would one day pull the Empire apart with their bare hands.

Darth Vader listened to every single story he could find and stored them away in the deepest corner of his heart.

@machine-dove sent me a message yelling about my tags on this post and said I had to write the ficlet.

I’m always a slut for prompts, so…


The thing was, Steve would swear in the years that followed, he really felt like him and Bucky had been dancing around this for months.  They’d been best friends for years, for as far back as either of them could remember, but after the weirdness that had been middle school there’d been a charge there, a spark of something humming beneath the surface of their interactions that both excited and scared the hell out of them.  

Or out of Steve, anyway.  He’d finally gotten the nerve to admit - to himself and his friends and loved ones - that he had a thing for both girls and guys at the start of eleventh grade, and while he didn’t have dates of either sex lining up to ask him out, it had at least cleared the air between him and Bucky.  And when Buck had broken up with his last girl of the month, four months ago (not that Steve was keeping track), and they’d started constantly hanging out together again, like old times… well, there was a nasty little voice in Steve’s head that couldn’t help reading more into it.

Especially when Bucky insisted sharing milk shakes when they went out after school, or popcorn when they went to the movies, or letting Steve borrow his Varsity jacket when he accidentally/on purpose forgot to bring his own coat to the Homecoming game they’d gone stag to.  There was definitely something there, something more than Steve had ever dreamed of hoping for - but while one mean side of him liked to point out the possibility of his best friend becoming something even more, the other, meaner side always shut him down: making sure to remind Steve as harshly as possible just how delusional he was being.

Because Bucky, even if he was single, had never once expressed an interest in being with other guys.  And even if he had, Buck was so far out of Steve’s league that it wasn’t funny.  He was smart - honor council this year, top of their class since he’d first transferred to Brooklyn in elementary school - he was on student council, starting pitcher for the varsity baseball team as  a sophomore, a key player in every drama production Washington High had put on since he’d started there.  People were tripping over the opportunity to hang out with Bucky Barnes, never mind the chance to date him.  And Steve… Steve was just Steve.  Scrawny asthmatic with a chip on his shoulder, painfully average student and GSA representative.  He was a decent artist when people took the time to actually look at his work, and Bucky swore up and down that he was funny as hell, but for the most part Steve knew that the only reason he wasn’t regularly getting shoved in lockers anymore was because he was most famous for being Bucky Barnes’ best friend.

Steve was an idiot for even imagining that he had a chance with someone as perfect as Bucky, but he wasn’t so stupid that he’d go and risk something as important as their friendship by asking him out.

Besides, they hung out so often that Steve felt he could pretty safely pretend they were dating.  In the deepest, darkest corners of his mind.  And if ninety-nine percent of his schmoopy fan art of late was based on an AU of Clark Kent and Bruce Wayne as dorky high school boyfriends that maybe bore a little bit of a resemblance to the dumb shit that the two of them did together?  Well… no one needed to know.

It got more hits to his blog, at least.

That said, there were still nights when Steve’s stupid brain couldn’t help but wish.  So when Bucky had sent his text on the Sunday before the MLK Holiday, when Steve was already pouting about the fact that he couldn’t join him in their volunteer plans because his stupid head had decided to come down with a stupid cold, well… Steve couldn’t help feeling a little reckless.

Text from Bucky Received 09:32 PM

What do you wear to bed?

Keep reading

He became a good man

After two weird as hell episodes, and well frankly, a third weird as hell episode I got what I’d been craving. Despite “The Final Problem” being at times shocking and disturbing it was an enthralling episode- and an episode that gave me the lore and legend that is Sherlock.

It was magnificent.

You can do all the weird crap you want in an episode and confuse us with open endings but in the end if you don’t give us the unbreakable bond and friendship that is John Watson and Sherlock Holmes then you have given us nothing.

Right now my heart is far from empty. Bravo.

okay so here's the newest plan...

i mayyy be writing a 12 chaptered fic off of an anon prompt that was sent to @irish-nlessing a few weeks ago 

here’s the prompt: http://irish-nlessing.tumblr.com/post/154660216167/ok-so-for-the-nye-smut-you-guys-go-to-a-party-get 

now i’ve obvi expanded on the idea (after awkwardly asking her permission to use it for a full fic lol) and well….i’m 3 chapters in and it’s shaping up to be quite the story. im already in love with the characters and the dynamic they have acquired between each other. they hook up on a one night stand on NYE and they dont know each other at all, so that in itself, finding out you are pregnant by a complete stranger…who happens to be famous…welp. but anyway, i don’t want to delve into the plot too much yet (you know i like to surprise yall) but the title i’ve picked is: 

A Million Reasons. 

im actually really excited about it and i hope as i get closer to posting it and can really tell you more about it, you all will be excited too!

Co Workers (Part Two)

Chapter Summary: You an Andrew get into a disagreement about you moving to Vancouver, you leave anyway.

A/N: There’s still plenty of room on my tag lists so shoot me an ask or a message if you’d like to be tagged in anything!

Warnings: None for now

Pairing: Andrew x Reader, Misha x Reader (eventual)

Word Count: 1.3k

Read Part One HERE

Originally posted by yourfavoritedirector


The few weeks that you had spent on set were the best weeks of your life. You had been back home with Andrew for a couple of weeks. It was almost Christmas time. You had been hoping and praying since you got home that you would get to go back on the show. You loved everything about it. Besides the fact that you were a guest star on your favorite tv show, you loved Vancouver, it was a wonderful city. You also loved everyone that you had the pleasure of working with while filming, especially Misha. You and Misha became friends quickly. He was kind, and helped you a lot with your acting skills, he even helped you practice scenes that you were unsure of.

The mid-season finale was tonight, and you were excited to watch it, yet slightly nervous. Your character, Blair, kissed Castiel in this episode, and you hadn’t warned Andrew. He had been seemingly standoffish since you got home, you didn’t really understand why, but it wasn’t like you to push the issue, you thought maybe the fact that you were gone for a month was a little bit hard on him, he had more of a dependant personality than you did.

Just before Andrew was due to be home from work, you got the phone call you had been longing for. The producers wanted you to come back. Not only did they want you to come back, they wanted you to sign a contract with them. You would be living in Canada during filming season. Without a second thought you said yes. You thought of course that Andrew would come with you. He would love it in Vancouver and he could finish his schooling there as well.

You ordered pizza for dinner, and Andrew got home right after the pizza arrived. You had a few minutes before the show started, so you decided to tell Andrew the good news. You both got settled on the couch with your food and some wine.

“So,” you began, turning to Andrew. “The producers from the show called me today,”

“And?” Andrew answered

“They want me to come back.”

“For how many episodes?” He sounded slightly annoyed.

“They uh, they actually want me to sign a contract with them, which means they want to keep me.” You couldn’t contain the excitement in your voice. This was everything you never knew you wanted.

“I thought we agreed that you wouldn’t go back.” This came as a slight shock to you. You noticing that Andrew was slightly distant, but you really didn’t think he would have a problem with you going back, considering he would be able to come with you.

“I never agreed to that babe, I said I wouldn’t go back without you, and with a contract, you’d be able to move up there with me, finish school there, even.” He just looked at you, almost as if you had just broken his heart. You didn’t know why, your relationship was and always had been stronger than this.

“Look, Y/N, I love you. I always have. But I want to finish school here in LA.”

“What’s the big deal about finishing school here? I’ve heard that they have good schools there too”

“No, I-it’s not just that Y/N.”

“Well then what is it?”

“I don’t know, it’s just too far away from home I guess.” He sounded unsure of himself.

“You know we could come home whenever we want. It’s not like we wouldn’t have the money, the show pays well..” You were trying to make your case as best as you could, but you could sense that this wasn’t going to have the outcome that you wanted.

“Can you turn down the contract?” He seemed confident in asking you this. Like he had been practicing it if it were to happen.

“Andrew I…I already said yes. I’m going.”

He just looked at you and shook his head. As if he were disappointed.  

You mumbled a, ‘whatever’ and turned the tv, THE argument causing you to miss the first couple of minutes of the show, which meant the first thing you saw was the kiss that you had been so nervous about Andrew seeing. Honestly, you shouldn’t have been nervous. It was just acting.

“Is this why you want to go back so bad? Finally get to make out with your celebrity crush?” Andrew snapped.

“Seriously? You do know that it’s just acting right?”

“Yeah, I get it.” What? You thought. He really wasn’t making much sense. As you just sat there sort of dumbfounded, he got up and went to your guys’ bedroom. You heard the door lock. This was not your Andrew. You didn’t even want to try to talk to him. So you decided to just enjoy the rest of your wine, and watch the show that you were incredibly proud of.

When the show was over you just decided to shut the tv off and lay on the couch so that you could enjoy your buzz. You finishing off the last of your wine when your phone dinged. You got a text from Misha.

Misha: You did a great job on that tonight’s episode. I hope you get to come back!

Y/N: Thanks Mish, I think I’m pretty sure I’ll be coming back tho :)

Misha: What makes you say that?

Y/N: I got a call today offering me a contract.

Misha: That’s awesome! I wonder what this means for Cas and Blair ;)

That last text was a bit of a surprise. That was definitely a flirty text. He had a girlfriend. Either way, you were buzzed and not on good terms with Andrew, and a little flirting never hurt anyone. Besides, you were both in relationships. Where could it possibly go?

Y/N: I hope it means something good :)

Maybe that wasn’t the best response, but hey, you were pretty buzzed.

Misha: What kind of good?

Y/N: I’m not sure lol

You just laid there as you waited for him to text you back. You then made the decision to go back to Vancouver in the morning. You didn’t care if you didn’t need to be back on set for a few weeks. You could just enjoy the city and find an apartment. If Andrew wasn’t willing to accept your decision to go back, then maybe the two of you should rethink your relationship.

You fell asleep before you got the chance to read Misha’s last text.


When you woke up the next morning Andrew had already left for his morning class. It was his last day of classes before Christmas. So you took this time to book a plane ticket and pack your bags. You took one last look around your small apartment. You left a note for Andrew explaining that being on the show was what made you happy, and that you weren’t leaving him. On the note you encouraged to him to call you later and told him that you loved him.


It was after the new year now, and you were settled into your new one bedroom apartment. Most of the cast was back in Vancouver now as well, and filming was beginning next week. You and Andrew had worked through what problems you had from before. You got to know as much of the city as you could, and were now working on filling your apartment with paintings, pictures of your family, candles, nic nacs, whatever you could find. It already felt like home.

It was early evening and you were getting ready to make dinner for yourself when you heard at at knock at the door. Which was weird, you hadn’t told anyone where you lived yet. You set down the hammer and nail you were using to hang one last painting before you cooked and opened the door.

“Hey Y/N, looks like we’re neighbors.”


Co Workers Tags:

@moonstar86

Everything Tags:

@just-a-touch-of-crowley

Once again, if you’d like to be tagged, just let me know!

TEAs - For Your Consideration

It’s that time again! If anyone wants guidance on what I’d like nominated and in which categories, here’re my picks for TEAs 2k17:

Inheritance (this is the big one guys, if you’re gonna nominate anything of mine this is the one I’d pick)

  • Best AU
  • Best Fic

Red Lights

  • Best Smut (romance)
  • Best Woobie!Rum

Brandy, Apples and Spice

  • Best Holiday Fic
  • Best RSS

Contact (series) (Out of the Cold / Into Warmth) - aka Dark Castle dog!Rumple

  • Best Fluff (comfort)

Any Port in a Storm (aka pirate!Rumbelle, aka Black Sails!AU)

  • Best Historical!AU

Just Swim Down

  • Best post-episode fic

Dutch Courage

  • Best smut (comedy)

Reckless Abandon

  • Best Golden Lace
  • Best Lacey 

And also, because I’m a terrible egomaniac:

Me

  • Best author
Never Sleeping Again: Part 6

*A TRC AU

Sitting still during Mass was going to drive him crazy. Ronan chewed on the leather bands tied around his wrist until Declan reached over and pinched his arm, hard, to get him to stop. Ronan glared at Declan and Declan glared back; Matthew sat between them, serene and apparently oblivious to the brotherly discord. Keeping his hands out of view of the other congregants, Ronan extended his middle fingers at Declan before turning away and slumping farther down in the pew.

The ritual and order of the service did not distract Ronan from the one thing that was paramount in his thoughts: that Adam Parrish was only yards away, puttering around in his apartment, while Ronan was trapped in the cool, ornate sanctuary. It was maddening, especially after Ronan had spent another sleepless night thinking, and trying not to think, about Adam. His insomnia was partially due to his increased consumption of tea. Ever since he had returned to Monmouth yesterday evening Ronan had been brewing all the teas and drinking them, pot after pot. (Noah had made several rude and hilarious comments about Ronan’s new favorite place, the kitchen/bathroom because if he wasn’t in there making tea he was in there using the facilities because Tea). Naturally Ronan had been drinking all the caffeinated blends so he was overly jittery and anxious, his brain frantically skipping from thought to thought. What was Adam doing right now? Was he sleeping? Was he thinking about Ronan? He needed to know.

Keep reading

Solving the Final Problem

Here is a fix-it fic for anyone who was hoping for a little more Johnlock in their lives (also a hint of Mystrade, but little enough that you can hopefully ignore it if it’s not your thing.) Technically canon-compliant, as it takes place after the main events of TFP. 

Written for @xaphaniaas as promised, hastily, as soon as I got home from watching it. I hope you all enjoy

Keep reading

I had a wicked crazy dream last night that I didn’t write down right after waking up because I’m a douche bag so i dont remember some of it but basically Phil can come back to life after he dies. He doesn’t really know when or where it will happen, but he knows within a few days after he dies and he will end up somewhere in his town. He uses this to commit crimes outside of the town he lives in, using disguises to keep from being caught. This works fine for a long time, Phil generally just stealing money or possessions.

Then there is a middle part that I can’t remember for the life of me. All i know is that it somehow involves Dan getting caught up in deep shit with Phil, and them falling in love, despite Phil’s attempts to stop it happening. They don’t tell eachother, but they both kinda know.

In the end Phil has to convince Dan to kill him in the middle of town, with loads of people watching, but Dan has to keep his identity secret so he doesn’t go to jail for it. Phil was made to look like Dan to the T, so Dan would be able to start a new life.

Phil’s plan was never to tell Dan that he could come back to life, and that Dan would have to live with the reality that he killed the person he was in love with to save his own skin. When Phil comes back he is overcome with sadness and loss and worry, and sets out to find Dan.

He doesn’t have to look far, as he literally materialized in the bedroom of Dan’s flat, because my dream didn’t give a shit about believable plots. Dan had come to Phil’s town because he was filled with too much sorrow to go anywhere else.

Then they confess their love and have sex and I woke up the end

maliayukimura  asked:

Malira + "Guitar String / Wedding Ring" by Carly Rae Jepsen?

 approximately 1K of domestic, canon-divergent, future fluff. warnings for mild injury and blood. 

on ao3 here!

As soon as she walks through the front door, Malia smells blood.

“Kira?” she yells, dropping the six grocery bags twined around her fingers to the floor (and just barely registering the sound of a glass jar smashing). She doesn’t receive a response, and she moves further into the house, the smell of blood only strengthening with each step. She yells Kira’s name again, the word slightly distorted by her fangs pressing into her gums.

“I’m out here!” Kira shouts from the direction of the backyard. She doesn’t sound especially chipper, but there’s also no notes of fear in her voice, so Malia retracts her claws as she heads for the back door.

The scent of blood spikes when she steps out onto the concrete pad that serves as their back porch, and she immediately spots accompanying drops of crimson staining the ground. There’s enough of them to be worrisome, but Kira doesn’t look any worse for the wear. She’s sitting in one of their cheap, lopsided plastic chairs, hands tucked between her thighs. When Malia just stares at her, she slides her right hand out and holds it up.

“Had a few accidents,” she says with a smile. There are thin red cuts criss-crossing her palm and what looks like a burn on the heel of her hand, shiny and pink and, thankfully, already healing.

“What happened?” Malia asks, dropping to her knees beside the chair and pulling Kira’s hand to her mouth. Her skin tastes soapy and metallic, not exactly a winning combination, but Malia doesn’t stop until she’s carefully pressed her lips to each of the wounds dotting Kira’s skin. While she’s doing it, Kira’s scent spikes twice; first with sour anxiety and then by something almost minty, which is Kira’s unique scent of happiness.

“It was supposed to be a surprise,” Kira sighs. “I wanted to have it ready for this weekend, but after cutting myself a dozen times, I decided to take a break. I guess I lost track of time.”

“What are you talking about?” Malia asks cautiously. She’s all too familiar with what is happening on the weekend; Saturday marks the eighth occasion of the first of their two anniversaries, the day they’d first gotten together during the first half of senior year when Malia had recklessly leaned in and kissed Kira in the pouring rain.

(Their second anniversary, of the day Kira emerged from the desert and showed up at Malia’s apartment streaked with dust and sand and not looking a day older than eighteen, is two months from now.

It’s only the fourth occurrence of that anniversary.)

Keep reading

this blog isn’t being updated anymore, but it’s an ask blog for sherlock and john that has a happy ending, several pages of nothing but sherlock and john just being adorable, some rather well-written drama if i do say so myself, actual three garridebs moment, and a pet chameleon. it takes place after s2 too so you can just erase the last four or five years of apparent bullshit and replace it with this !!!!! read it sometime if you need to smile :)

Ring In Some Happiness

BIRTHDAY FIC FOR @ishipallthings ! 

I’m sticking to fluff here because I love Stony fluff as much as angst and this idea just begged for fluff. Hope you like it darling :D


“What are you doing?”

Tony cleared his throat and looked up from the floor and cleared his throat again when he caught sight of Steve’s confused frown.

“Tying my lace up” he said casually and Steve’s furrow deepened.

“You’re wearing loafers,” Steve said dryly and Tony looked down to mutter a quiet “huh”.

“I was checking if the tassels were still there” the supposed genius shrugged and got up smoothly to slide back into his seat. Steve gave him a concerned look, probably for his mental health, but Tony swayed his attention with other talk.

Tony could see Steve talk passionately about the last travesty of Steven Seagal he had seen thanks to Clint’s amazing bluffing skills, but his mind was stuck on the small weight in his pocket. The band was vibranium and Tony had gone through an embarrassingly long conversation with T’Challa to get a hold of it because after the notorious Sokovia shamble, Wakanda had become extremely stringent in letting out even scraps of their precious metal.

Tony was really grateful that Ororo was as romantic as she was because T’Challa had used the opportunity to be the insufferable monarch that he could be when he wanted to make Tony’s life miserable. He was sure that the graceful ass had the whole conversation recorded and saved somewhere secure for future jokes.

Somehow, he had gotten the ring size right and the wording right as well. Now all he had to do was pop the question. They were at Steve’s favorite restaurant, the mood was right, they hadn’t argued for an entire day and Natasha had firmly told him not to take mission calls till he asked the question.

It was also not likely that Steve would say no. They were married in every possible way except for the rings and vows and ceremony part that came with it. They had also quite conveniently skipped the baby-making process and gotten ready-made babies in the form of Clint, Pietro and Peter. Rhodey had proof from Pepper that their brains were stuck to the level of sugar-high five year olds, despite what Clint said or however much Steve sighed. 

Okay, so maybe they hadn’t skipped the baby making process all that much, considering the spectacularly acrobatic se-

“-fish on your beard,” Tony blinked and saw that Steve was talking and staring at him with a mildly concerned expression. What? Oh, right.

“It’ll swim up,” Tony said nonsensically and mentally winced when Steve frowned, “Nevermind, hey, how’s the food?”

“Uh, good,” Steve replied with a wary look, glancing at Tony’s face with a furrow between his brows, “It’s nice, Tony.”

“Good? Great. That’s good. Awesome. Job well done,” Tony blathered on, scrambling for the brake on his mouth.

“Right,” Steve said slowly, taking a sip of his wine, “We should give our compliments to those who made it then.”

“Yeah, you’re welcome,” Tony nodded and felt his neck heat up at the raised eyebrow he got from Steve. Why was he still talking oh God..

“Uh-huh, you talk like you made it,” Steve teased and Tony laughed nervously which got a confused stare from Steve.

“Of course not, I just made the chef,” Tony said and retraced his words when Steve choked on his wine a bit, “I mean I made the chef make this specifically. Of course I didn’t make the chef. He’s like 53, and I would have to be about two decades older than that to make him technically. Which isn’t possible because Mom hadn’t ejected me by then. I mean, no, what the fuck, no, I mean born, not ejected. No, wait, what -”

“What?” Steve repeated, now leaning back a bit, looking Tony from head to toe.

“Vagina!” Tony waved his hand in a vague gesture and a couple of other diners turned their way because of course Tony’s voice had gained a beautiful shrieking tone by then. Wonderful. “Not your vagina, of course,” Tony shook his head with wide horrified eyes and Steve’s eyes were almost popping out of his sockets, “because you don’t. Have. A vagina, I mean. I checked,” Tony said to a neighboring lady who was staring at them with a terrified expression.

“No judgments, mate,” the lady’s companion shot Tony a thumbs-up and Tony was so flustered by then that he shot the girl a finger-gun symbol.

“Right,” Steve said in a strangled tone and Tony had a string urge to stuff the table-cloth into his mouth and flop on the table. Maybe an ambulance would rescue him from his own well-dug grave.

“Are you okay?” Steve asked in a worried tone and Tony loosened his tie, which was stupid because he wasn’t wearing a tie, he was wearing a bow-tie and his hands were scrambling in the air for the tie that he somehow thought he was wearing. Why wasn’t he dying yet?!

“Air,” Tony croaked and Steve looked seconds away from bolting over to check if Tony was breathing so the genius continued rambling, “Water, Earth, and Fire. Classical elements. We should discuss them.”

What?” Steve asked with a totally baffled look and Tony opened his mouth but then thought better and stuffed an entire fish piece into his mouth.

“Is everything alright, sir?” the waiter for the evening came up to the table and enquired, and Tony showed him the okay sign, trying to grin with a mouthful of fish. Judging by the expression on both Steve and the waiter’s faces, it didn’t look pretty.

Tony was ruining everything. He had fish in his mouth, an audience looking like he had lost his mind and a boyfriend who looked seconds away from calling Stephen Strange to check for mind control. He had to act fast and act immediately.. Fumbling into his jacket’s pocket with trembling fingers, he pulled out the ring.

Only to drop it on the floor.

The sound of vibranium hitting the polished floor echoed like a Wall Street gong even though it must have been softer than a pin-drop. Tony stared at the rolling ring in horror and heard a gasp from Steve’s direction. The waiter shifted and immediately went on his knees to search for the ring, catching it and looking up at Tony with a shining piece of proposal in his hand.

“Mr. Stark, did you -”

“Yes, I do,” Tony blurted and saw the waiter’s eyes widen with confusion and then fear, “I mean, no, I don;t, but I did. Drop. Ring.”

“Sir, are you okay?”

“I will -” Tony hissed, clenching his sweaty palms on his thighs and reached out to snatch the ring from the waiter, “Be married. I mean, be okay. Shit.”

“Sir, you -”

“Nope, no words,” Tony shook his head vehemently and felt his breaths come out in gasps. Was he still holding the ring? Why was he holding the ring? Where did it go now? Where should he put it? Ring goes in? Finger. Right.

In his panic, Tony put the ring. On his own finger.

“Oh no” somebody whispered from somewhere near him and Tony stared at his own hand in horror. Did he just wear his own proposal ring?!

“Did the waiter just propose to Tony Stark?” somebody hissed.

“Did Tony Stark just accept the waiter’s proposal?!” somebody else hissed in a higher tone and Tony felt his horror increase.

“Oh God I’m engaged to a waiter,” he whispered in terror, eyes wide and glaring at his own hand. From across the table, he heard a choking sound and looked up to see Steve having fallen pale, eyes huge and darting between Tony, the waiter and the ring.

“Oh God I’m engaged to Tony Stark,” the waiter choked out and Tony shared a petrified look with the man.

“Nope,” they heard a voice and both of them looked up to see Steve’s reddened face as the supersoldier regained his composure, in a shaky way, “No, you’re not,” Steve pointed at Tony, “You are definitely not.”

“Actually they are,” the woman who had earlier sparked off Tony’s vagina comment said helpfully and Steve shot her his deadly Captain America stare.

“No they’re not,” he maintained and shot both Tony and his engaged waiter a death glare, “You are not engaged.”

“No problems,” the waiter said and raised his hands in surrender as he slowly got up, “My wife would kill me anyway.”

“Thank you,” Tony croaked out to his newly dumped fiance and Steve stared at him before the blond’s eyes widened and he shot out a hand to hold Tony’s trembling hand.

“Hey, breathe,” Steve said softly and Tony tightened his hold on Steve’s fingers desperately.

“I just got engaged to someone I don’t even know,” the genius hiss-whispered, “Engaged and dumped.”

“I’m happy about the last part, believe it or not,” Steve said dryly and Tony let out a hysterical laugh that had Steve rubbing a calming finger over his wrist, “Hey, it’s okay, Tony. It’s okay.”

“How the fuck is it okay?” Tony asked with a shake of his head, “I just fucked up everything. Oh God, I haven’t even proposed to you yet, after all this drama!”

“How about,” Steve said calmly, rubbing gently over Tony’s pulse point, “you let me try this time, hmm?”

Tony let out a garbled sound but gestured Steve to get on with it. Steve rolled his eyes with a fond expression but held Tony’s hands with both of his own.

“Tony?”

“Hmm?”

“Will you marry me?”

“Should I?” Tony asked plaintively and Steve’s lips quirked up in a small grin.

“I think you should,” he said with a serious nod but gleeful eyes.

“Okay then,” Tony nodded and nodded once more for confirmation, “Sure, let’s do it. What the hell.”

“How enthusiastic,” Steve teased but Tony looked up to see his favorite blue eyes shine bright with happiness and love, so much of love.

“For you, darling? All the time,” Tony murmured with a small smile and Steve leaned forward to kiss his knuckles, “Now, get my ring off me and let me put it on you. Before I get engaged to any more strangers.”


Happy Birthday Jen <3 It’s 16th here, so I’m posting this right away. Hope you have a wonderful day and year ahead, darling! I love you so much and I wish you get all the happiness of the world. 

Fandom Fic Rec Days

The Fandom Fic Rec Days are back!

It is easy to make people look at art; all you need is a reblog. But when it comes to make people want to read fanfiction, it can get just a little more tricky.

To give writers more recognition, and to celebrate their stories, we’ve decided to organize the Fic Rec Days.

On February 10th, 11th, and 12th, you’re invited to rec your favourite fics, from the all time faves to the WIPs you’re currently enjoying.

How? In any way you want!

  • Create a post saying why people should read the fic!
  • Draw some fanart!
  • Create graphics/aesthetics!
  • Make a fic rec list!
  • Make a mix!
  • And so on.

Anything, really; there’s no way of rec’ing worth less than another.

This way, you will:

  1. Promote writers’ fics, and maybe get them new readers.
  2. Make their day, they will be super happy!
  3. Maybe encourage them to write more (win-win!)

Any rules/extra information?

  • Tag your posts with #ficrecdays
  • Tag your fandom/ship.
  • You can always queue if you’re not available!
  • Readers, please consider leaving a comment on the fics you liked!

Above all else, have fun, make people happy (writers and new readers alike!)

Reblog to spread the word, and see you then! :D

anonymous asked:

*slides a $2 bill across the bar* it's all i got, but it's worth it. anyways. u got any hurt!dean fic recs for me? bonus points for protective!cas or sam. please and thank u

Hey there, don’t worry, I do recs for free. It’s gonna have to be a quick one though because it’s past my bedtime and I’ve got work tomorrow ;)

Okay, so, I don’t know if you mean physically hurt Dean or mentally/emotionally hurt Dean…Like are we talking about fics with serious whump and actual physical hurt/comfort, or more like emotional anguish? I tend to read the second more than the first, which is why I struggle a bit finding some good fics for you. Here’s a few I found through completely random searches:

Painted Angels
I kinda assume you’ve already read this one but if you haven’t, holy fuck. You are in for a treat.

The Dove’s Long Journey To Champaign
This fic killed me. It’s a must-read. So much hurt!dean. So beautiful.

Lakota Falls
AU where they’re werewolves (Cas is an alpha) - lots of hurt!dean and protective!cas

The Breath Of All Things
Haven’t actually read this one but there’s no way that it can’t be good cause destielfanfic recced it here

Keep It Together (And Heal)
Okay so I also haven’t read this one yet but holy shit does it look heavy…definitely loads of hurt!dean and caring/protective!sam & cas here. Read the tags! Reviewed by destielfanfic here

Can I also recommend the hurt/comfort tag on destielfanfic? Look through it, I’m sure you’ll find some great fics!Oh and if you were looking for something more specific, leave me another ask and I promise I’ll take another looksie as soon as I can :)

Watched One Piece Gold last night, and realised I’d forgotten how much I loved all the characters. 
Especially Zoro. He’s just so absolutely ridiculous. 
Strung up, trapped, and slated for a very public execution? Awesome. Nap time. 

anonymous asked:

hey can you recommend me some finnpoe fics? I feel like most of the good ones came out right after tfa was released and now almost everything on ao3 also includes rey/lo or hy/lux and i'm not desperate enough to read those yet lmao

yeah, I’m right there with you. I mean, I’m sure there are good newer fics out there, but I often give up searching for them bc browsing their tag on ao3 makes me weep tbh. plus I haven’t really found my Trusted Fic Rec Person in this fandom & I just don’t have the time to experiment & accidentaly subject myself to Not Very Good fics.

anyway, I really suck at keeping track of fics I’ve read but I ventured back a few pages in my ao3 history (man, they should add a search function there or i should read less fanfic in general) and here’s a couple that I’ve read in the past ~2 months & I can recall enjoying them: 

the centre, holding by Deputychairman (quality angst)

In the Line of Fire by thehorrorinsymmetry (firefighter au, & rey does roller derby, which is not relevant to the plot @ all but I became gayer just thinking about it)

Found Cat by bomberqueen17 (neighbours au, weird, mysterious loners, my fave kind of trope)

the stories that matter by helluvapilot (finn is introduced to the bodhi fandom I)

the historian by peradi (finn is introduced to the bodhi fandom II)

Are You the Singer or the Song? by QianLan (cute soulmate au)

Interpersonal mid-course corrections by twofrontteethstillcrooked (oh no, it’s cold, must cuddle and discuss Feelings)

Feta-ccompli by twofrontteethstillcrooked (poe is very knowledgeable about cheese, finn is very knowledgeable about poe)

if anyone wants to help out anon (and me) or knows any hidden gems that deserve much more recognition,  please feel free to share!