things i should have told my daughter

The Secret (6)

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; epilogue.

“Zoe, the movie’s about to start!” you shouted through your apartment, throwing a handful of popcorn into your mouth while the opening credits of another Disney film lit up your TV screen. This was how you spent your Sundays with Zoe, being lazy and watching movies while the weather grew colder outside. It was definitely colder in Seoul than what you were used to in your hometown.

Zoe came into the living room huffing and puffing with her lips pulled into a pout. “We can’t watch the movie. I can’t find Mr Snuggles,” she grumbled, climbing onto the sofa to check behind it.

“Have you checked the bathroom? You were giving Mr Snuggles a bath in the sink this morning,” you remembered, holding her hand so she could safely jump off the sofa and sprint out of the room again.

Five seconds later, Zoe’s voice echoed from the bathroom. “I found him!”

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Dangerous: Chapter One.

Request: Hi! Could you do a oneshot or multi chapter where reader is Tony’s daughter & Avenger who falls in love w/ Loki. They have a Joker/Harley type relationship (minus the abuse) & even tho she loves her dad & team, she becomes a villain for loki. Thanks!  

Summary: Stark is the name I was born into. Being Tony Stark’s kid meant a lot of things, namely everyone looking to you and protecting you. I’m not some princess needing to be protected. That’s what I’ve told myself anyway. When Loki appears, I feel ready to worship a king.

Starts during the Avengers movie then I kinda write my own thing.

Triggers Throughout The Series: Angst. Drama. Violence. Smut. Romance.

Triggers In This Chapter: Loki being a shit.

Word Count: 1034

Enjoy ;D


Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

I glanced over at my alarm clock, watching the second hand tick away. Pepper had gone off to some meeting after dad had left for whatever it was Mr. Coulson–No. Agent Coulson–had dropped by. Something called the “Avengers Initiative” that was supposed to be top secret. My eyes slowly dragged to my ceiling, showing a display of constellations.

With a sigh, I got up. Twenty-years-old and living with my dad. Lame. Of course, being Tony Stark’s daughter, it was easier to live in the tower, considering his Iron Man Mantle. Honestly, it just sounded like one more thing for the world to praise my dad for. Me? I’m still trying to figure out why the hell I’m in school. I’m not like Tony Stark. In fact, hardly anyone even knows my name. I’m just “Tony Stark’s daughter” and “Miss Stark” to the rest of the world.

There was a loud bang on the rooftop, making me flinch. I ducked over the side of my bed, reaching under to grab my baseball bat from it. It wasn’t much for defense, mostly a comfort. I looked around as the alarms went off, quickly silenced until the power went out. I took a deep breath, gulping anxiously as the back-up lights kicked on.

I ran the plan that dad had given me. Get to the lab. Get to the lab and turn on the…the…what the hell was I supposed to turn on?!

I sighed, closing my eyes and collecting myself. I needed to calm down. I needed to focus. Panicking would get me killed.

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Someone to Stay - AU

Previous chapters

Chapter 8

Her feet creaked on the landing, the wood protesting. She could hear something behind the door, and she was afraid to open it, but she followed an unknown pull that drew her hand to turn the knob.

The sounds were unmistakable. Their bodies writhed and a pillow tumbled to the floor. Warm, sugary-scented candlelight flickered over their faces. She’d seen enough—she turned and ran out of the room.

Her legs didn’t seem to want to obey her. Rushing down the stairs her feet caught on the carpeting and she tripped, falling, falling, falling…

Claire jerked awake, breathing hard. Beside her, Jamie stirred and flung his arm over her. She placed her hand over her heart, willing it to stop hammering.

“Are ye alright, Sassenach?” he asked sleepily.

“Yes. Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you. Bad dream.”

“Weel, no wonder, I took all the blankets. Ye’re cold as ice—that’ll give ye the nightmare. Come here.” Jamie bundled her under the quilt; his own body radiated heat and she curled up against him, her head on his shoulder. Her heart was slowing down, and she closed her eyes, hoping to reclaim sleep.

Jamie’s hand stroked her arm lazily, while pressing small kisses into her hair. Claire was lulled, warm, the fear of her dream fading fast. After a few minutes, Jamie spoke.

“I’ll need to get up soon. I promised Jenny I’d help with the chores to free her up to get some Christmas things ready.”

“What time is it?” Claire mumbled. 

“Um… about 5, I think.”

“Oh God. It’s still dark out. It’s too early. You can’t go out there now. Stay. Here. With me.” She clung to him tighter, unwilling to let him out of the bed.

“A promise is a promise, Sassenach.” He extricated himself gently, pausing to run his fingers through her curls. “I like it. Looks like the bramble bush outside.”

Claire swatted him feebly, too tired to really try. She burrowed deeper into the bed, and Jamie kissed her nose. He dressed in the light of the leftover embers while she watched, and wanted.

“I’ll bring ye coffee. You don’t have to come wi’ me, Claire. I ken it’s yer vacation and up early the rest of the time. I’ll go milk the goats and pitch hay for the coos, they’ll be sufferin’ fer it.”

“Coos?”

“Highland coos. Beautiful creatures.”

She peered over the quilt. “I’ve never seen one.”

“Dress warmly then. Ye’re about to meet the herd.” He turned to leave, but stopped. “Oh, and Sassenach?”

“Yes?”

“Merry Christmas.”

_______________________________________________________________________

The mountain air was icy but invigorating. Claire touched her cheeks, the wool mittens warm on her reddened skin. She pulled her scarf up higher around her face.

She and Jamie leaned against the fence, watching Jenny’s merino sheep baa and butt each other. It was only noon, but her body was exhausted; not only from their efforts last night, but from fetching and hauling and working alongside Jamie.

They stood quietly side by side, watching the animals’ antics. Their breath mingled in cloudy puffs, and Claire couldn’t remember when she had last been this happy.

He was in her like a livewire, after only weeks of knowing each other. It was too much, too soon, too fast. Too right. And her heart… the kiss in the alley had given it to Jamie irrevocably.

Claire took his hand in hers and clasped it tight. He smiled down at her, and sang, “Oh, the weather outside is frightful…

She laughed. “It’s not so bad now.”

“There’s snow coming soon. We’re expecting the band fer Hogmanay. When are ye due back to work, mo nighean donn?”

“January third. And your recording sessions?”

“Few days after that. We can have some time in London.” He kissed her briefly and they started back to the house.

The ancient stones stood grey and silent as they approached. Claire could glimpse Jenny in the kitchen, preparing lunch for the family. At the door, Jamie stopped her with a hand on her arm.

“Claire, I have something for you,” he said. With a shy smile, he pulled a gold chain from his coat pocket. Dangling from it, was a gold ring with a ruby set in it. Jamie held it in front of Claire, the weight of the ring causing it to twirl. “It belonged to my da, and his da before him, on and on back. I usually wear it, but it can be a bit troublesome when playing guitar so… I’d left it here in Jenny’s care.”

Claire swallowed thickly, understanding the implications of his gift. This had belonged to his father; it was a tangible memory of family and belonging. By giving her this ring, Jamie made it clear he thought of her as part of him, intrinsic and bone-deep. She reached out to touch the gleaming stone, and smiled in acceptance.

Jamie undid the tiny clasp, the gold links of the chain delicate as filigree. He fastened it behind her neck, fingers lingering on her collarbones. Claire touched the ring, nestled against her sternum.

“Thank you,” she said softly, and he leaned in for a kiss. Then she came to a realization.

“Oh my God, I feel so bad, I didn’t get you anything! What with the shifts and all—”

“It doesna matter. I brought presents for the children, from both of us.” Jamie opened the door and removed his dirty boots before Jenny could protest. Claire imitated him, carefully removing her coat and layers. She was very much aware of the presence of the ring.

“Besides.” He turned and wrapped his arms around her waist, bringing her close enough for whispering.

“You gave me you.”

_______________________________________________________________________

Jamie’s acoustic guitar playing Christmas carols and traditional Scottish songs reverberated with the myriad of voices singing along and laughing riotously. Everyone was absolutely soused, the drams flowing and never-ending.

The rest of The Clan had arrived, Rupert and Willy and Murtagh, to stay and celebrate Hogmanay and welcome the New Year. Rupert had cornered Claire and would not stop talking about Geillis. Claire lent a sympathetic ear and on the whole, rather liked the match between them; from the way Rupert talked about her friend, she suspected they were more serious than she had originally thought—and was glad for them. Willy was there, shy as ever, but joining in the loud choruses and tossing back drink after drink.

Murtagh joined Claire on the sofa by the fire, offering her a tumbler of Macallan. They toasted Christmas and Jamie and the Frasers in general. If he noticed Brian Fraser’s ring on Claire, he said nothing, but regaled her with stories of Jamie as a child and teenager. Every word Murtagh spoke revealed the tenderness involved in practically raising a child not his own. Claire wondered why Murtagh was single—deceiving surliness notwithstanding—when he clearly had so much love to give.

Jenny, however, was not blind. Her eyes had zeroed in on the ring around Claire’s neck the moment they stepped inside the house into her presence. Her eyes had widened but she said nothing outright. As the evening progressed and everyone’s inhibitions lowered significantly, now she approached Claire and sat next to her.

“That was my da’s,” Jenny said quietly, sipping from her own glass.

“Yes, Jamie told me.” Claire felt uncomfortable for a moment – Brian had also been Jenny’s da. Perhaps— “Do you not approve? Would you like me to give it back? Maybe you should have it for your own sons—”

Jenny waved her off. “I have my mam’s pearls and other things, for my daughters as well. This is Jamie’s to give as he will.” She reached out and touched a finger gently to the ruby, warmth on her face and in her voice. “And let me tell you—he could not have chosen someone worthier.”

_______________________________________________________________________

Claire ground her hips against Jamie’s, one hand holding her steady above him. Firelight cast them into molten gold as each found their completion in the other’s body.

Jamie groaned as Claire rocked to find more friction, more heat, more of him. He kneaded her breasts, traced a finger down to her navel, and settled on the pulsing point of their union. Claire clenched around him, dissolving into a heap of spent limbs and curly hair. Their foreheads touched as Jamie took his pleasure, gasping into her ear.

Tha gaol agam ort. An-còmhnaidh.” His hands gently traced patterns on her back as she lay spent on top of him, too lazy and sated to shift next to him. Her skin pebbled in goose bumps as she shivered in delight.

“You’ll have to teach me the Gaidhlig,” she said, smiling. She propped her hands under her chin, resting on his chest. “I think I can only translate about 5 words. Not fair.”

“I can teach ye, Sassenach.” Jamie pushed her hair behind her ears, cupping her cheeks in his hands. “Repeat after me. Tha gaol agam ort.”

Tha gaol agam ort.” Claire did her best to imitate his accent.

An-còmhnaidh.” Jamie caressed her face gently, tenderly.

“But what does it mean?” she insisted, pressing a kiss into the palm of his hand.

Jamie took a deep breath. “It means… I love ye. Always.”

Her breath caught in her throat. For a moment, she considered bolting. Rising from the bed, giving up the warmth and comfort of his body. Dressing fast in the demi-dark, leaving him behind. And her heart ached at the thought. So she allowed the brief wave of panic to wash over her, and let it go.

Jamie’s eyes were still on her, steadfast and unwavering. Claire met them bravely, whiskey and blue fire, and kissed his honey mouth.

Tha gaol agam ort. Always.”

10

“Why are you so sad?”
“My daughter, was so kind. She didn’t even go on a school trip so she could help her mom. The doctor told me it would be a simple surgery.. If I had known that she would never wake up again, I should’ve done everything for her. I should’ve sent her on that trip by force. I should’ve bought her a lot of pretty clothes. I should have told her to play around instead of working part-time jobs. Because I keep thinking about the things I haven’t been able to do for her, I can’t sleep and I can’t eat.”

JonBenet Ramsey - Patsy Ramsey's 911 call
  • From www.statementanalysis.com/jonbenet-ramsey-murder/
  • 911: 911 Emergency.
  • PR: (Inaudible) police.
  • 911: What's going on...
  • PR: 755 Fifteenth Street
  • 911: What is going on there ma'am?
  • PR: We have a kidnapping. Hurry, please.
  • 911: Explain to me what is going on, ok?
  • PR: We have a, there's a note left and our daughter is gone.
  • 911: A note was left and your daughter is gone?
  • PR: Yes.
  • 911: How old is your daughter?
  • PR: She is six years old, she is blond... six years old.
  • 911: How long ago was this?
  • PR: I don't know. I just found a note and my daughter's missing.
  • 911: Does it say who took her?
  • PR: What?
  • 911: Does it say who took her?
  • PR: No, I don't know it's there... there is a ransom note here.
  • 911: It's a ransom note?
  • PR: It says S.B.T.C. Victory... please.
  • 911: Ok, what's your name? Are you...
  • PR: Patsy Ramsey... I am the mother. Oh my God. Please.
  • 911: I'm... Ok, I'm sending an officer over, ok?
  • PR: Please.
  • 911: Do you know how long she's been gone?
  • PR: No, I don't, please, we just got up and she's not here. Oh my God Please.
  • 911: Ok.
  • PR: Please send somebody.
  • 911: I am, honey.
  • PR: Please.
  • 911: Take a deep breath for me okay?
  • PR: Hurry, hurry, hurry.
  • 911: Patsy? Patsy? Patsy? Patsy? Patsy?
  • After Patsy terminated the call the line apparently stayed open. She may not have placed the phone properly in the cradle. The 911 operator thought she heard three faint voices in the background. Audio experts enhanced the recording to see if they could make out what was being said. They thought they may have heard John Ramsey say, "We're not talking to you." Patsy Ramsey say, "What did you do" and Burke Ramsey say, "What did you find?"
  • 911: What is going on there ma'am?
  • PR: We have a kidnapping. Hurry, please.
  • When the 911 operator asked Patsy Ramsey what was going o n she replied, "We have a kidnapping. Hurry, please." Notice that Patsy's plea for help lacks specifics. She does not tell the 911 operator who was kidnapped. We would expect her to say, "My daughter" or "Our daughter has been kidnapped." Most people do not want to lie and will avoid telling a lie. When people do decide to lie they will often not tell a direct lie. They will soften the lie. Saying, "My daughter has been kidnapped" may be a direct lie. Saying, "We have a kidnapping" may be a lie that lacks specifics.
  • The word "please" appears to be too polite. She does use it eight times in the 911 call. There is a chance she is not being polite but is using this word to add emphasis to the fact she needs help.
  • 911: Explain to me what is going on, ok?
  • PR: We have a, there's a note left and our daughter is gone.
  • At this point the 911 operator only knows there has been a kidnapping. She does not know who has been kidnapped. Therefore, she asked Patsy, "Explain to me what is going on, ok?" Patsy responded, "We have a, there's a note left and our daughter is gone." Patsy has an unfinished sentence; "We have a." It appears she was going to repeat what she told the 911 operator in her previous statement; "We have a kidnapping." However, this time she could not make that statement. Perhaps she could not lie twice.
  • She then said, "There's a note left." She referred to the three-page handwritten letter as a "note." Her use of the unique word "left" indicates she may have withheld some information. She could have avoided using this word by saying, "I found a note."
  • She finished this sentence by saying, "Our daughter is gone." Order is important. This sentence appears to be out-of-order. She first told the 911 operator about the note. Then she told her that their daughter was gone. The most important thing is that JonBenet is missing. That should have been the first thing she told the 911 operator.
  • Patsy said that their daughter was "gone." We will see how her personal dictionary plays out in regards to the word "gone."
  • This may be a truthful statement. There was a ransom note in the house and JonBenet was gone (deceased).
  • 911: How long ago was this?
  • PR: I don't know. I just found a note and my daughter's missing.
  • Some transcripts show the pronoun "I" is missing before the word "just." The missing "I" indicates a lack of commitment to the statement.
  • There are several ways you can use the word "just." The word "just" is often used to minimize things. If you walk into a restaurant by yourself, chances are the hostess will say to you, "Just one?" She is minimizing how many are in your party. When people minimize their actions using the word "just" it is an indication they may have done more than what they are telling you; "I just went to McDonalds and came home." There is a chance Patsy may be minimizing her actions that morning. However, she may also be minimizing time. By using the word "just" she is telling the 911 operator that her action of finding the ransom note was immediate.
  • She is consistent in using the word "note." However, she does change her language when she used the word "missing." Earlier she said, "Our daughter is gone." Now her daughter is "missing." Truthful people will usually use the same language. Something caused her to change her language. That something might be she is being deceptive. Then again, there may be a justification for the change in language. When she used the word "gone" she used the plural pronoun "our." When she used the word "missing" she used the singular pronoun "my." We can't read people's minds but we can recognize a change in language.
  • 911: Does it say who took her?
  • PR: What?
  • Answering a question with a question indicates the person was asked a sensitive question. It is often used as a stall tactic to allow the person to think about how he or she should answer the question. We do have to take into consideration that it is possible Patsy did not hear what the operator said.
  • 911: Does it say who took her?
  • PR: No, I don't know it's there... there is a ransom note here.
  • When asked if the note said who took JonBenet, Patsy said, "No, I don't know." In reality, the note said that a "foreign faction" signed by SBTC was responsible for JonBenet's disappearance. In her answer to the next question she will mention the SBTC.
  • Patsy had another change in language. She now calls it a "ransom note" and not a "note." As I look at this 911 call, I do not see a justification for the change in language. Therefore, it is an indication of deception.
  • 911: It's a ransom note?
  • PR: It says S.B.T.C. Victory... please.
  • The ransom note was signed "Victory! S.B.T.C." Patsy reverses the order and says, "S.B.T.C. Victory." If she had the ransom note in her hand while talking to the 911 operator, we would expect her to look at the ransom note and mention the signature in sequential order. If she did not have the ransom note in her hand and was relying on her memory from what she had read, that would be a reason for her to unknowingly reverse the order. It is possible she looked at the very last line in the ransom note, S.B.T.C., mentioned it and then look at the word Victory above it.
  • 911: Ok, what's your name? Are you...
  • PR: Patsy Ramsey... I am the mother. Oh my God. Please.
  • Notice that Patsy used the article "the" and not the pronoun "her." Saying, "I am her mother" makes it more personal. It shows ownership. Saying, "I am the mother" shows distance. If she knew JonBenet was dead, she may not have wanted to take ownership of a dead body.
  • 911: Do you know how long she's been gone?
  • PR: No, I don't, please, we just got up and she's not here. Oh my God Please.
  • Again she used the word "just." Is she minimizing her actions or is she minimizing time?
  • 911: Ok.
  • PR: Please send somebody.
  • The reason people call 911 is because they are seeking help either for themselves or for someone else. Most 911 calls begin with a plea for help; "I need an ambulance" or "Someone is breaking into my neighbor's send the police?" Patsy's plea for help appears towards the end of her call, "Please send somebody." She only asked for help after the 911 operator said to her, "I'm sending an officer over."
  • Towards the beginning of her 911 call, Patsy told the 911 operator, "We have a kidnapping. Hurry, please." Saying, "Hurry, please" insinuates the 911 operator should send the police to her residence. However, she does not specifically ask for the police. At the very beginning of her call, she did an inaudible statement, "(Inaudible) police." It is possible she said, "Send the police" or "I need the police."
  • There is one other odd thing with this 911 call and that is Patsy hung up the phone. The 911 operator is your lifeline. This is the person who is going to help you. They are going to send you help. They may get the word out to be on the lookout for a certain person or vehicle. You will want to stay on the phone with the 911 operator until help arrives. Once she reports the kidnapping, Patsy hangs up the phone.

hi i spent my entire afternoon browsing through your au prompts and saving pretty much all of them for future reference. i thought it was only fair i gave something back as a thank you, so i wrote some lists. i hope they’re helpful! i’ll write them all in here but feel free to make separate posts for them or let me know and i’ll write them separately

EXPECTANT PARENTS AUS

  • “i’m due in two weeks and we don’t have a single diaper i know it’s 3am but i need to get everything we need because no, we can’t keep a baby in the dog bed”
  • “hi i know you’re across the world in a business trip but our surrogate went into labor a week early so long story short you’re coming home to a baby i can’t do this alone get your ass in a plane”
  • “we’re at the er in the middle of the night wearing pajamas and scared as hell because our baby hasn’t moved in days oh the baby is just asleep? okay sorry broke your pen i’m just a really worried parent to be”
  • “i know it’s a weird craving but i want pickles ice cream i don’t care where you find it just GET IT also put bananas on it and chocolate chips”
  • “yes it is too early to install a car seat i’m only ten weeks pregnant”
  • “i’ve read seventeen books about pregnancy and i’m constantly worried about every single thing every book warned about but also trying to remain calm”
  • “i used to drink five cups of coffee before i got pregnant and now i’m going through withdrawal and i’ll slice your head in three if you give me that decaf crap again this is all your fault”
  • “hey honey you’re home i spent the last eight hours watching birth videos and i know i’m eight months pregnant but i changed my mind i’m not doing that birth thing no way”

PARENTS WITH NEWBORNS AUS

  • “i know you hate my mom but i touched our newborn’s soft spot and it freaked me out so she’s moving in until the kid can walk and talk get used to it”
  • “i had no idea something so tiny could poop so much and oh shit, you have poop on your cheek and jesus christ how did it end up on my knee”
  • “you need to stop holding your child like it’s a time bomb whAT ARE YOU DOING SUPPORT THE NECK YOU DIMWIT”
  • “we went a overboard on the newborn clothes but our child was born too big for them and now we have nothing that fits them”
  • “we’re so sleep deprived we bathed, changed and fed our child’s teddy bear while it slept soundly for the first time in almost a month”
  • “our pediatritian fired us after calling them at 2am claiming our child had measles when it was just a diaper rash”
  • “you saw me napping with our newborn in my arms and started yelling about safety and how i could crash them in my sleep now the baby is crying and i’m crying and we both feel like terrible parents/partners”
  • “i caught you staring at our baby’s crib like they’re the love of your like and making sure they slept soundly now we’re both cuddling on the floor beside the crib looking at the beautiful little thing we made”
  • “we both have hundreds of videos of our newborn making accidental spit bubbles and no one cares but we’ll show it to literally everyone”
  • “i know they’re only ten days old but we need to look into good preschools already i’m serious”
  • “i left you alone with the baby for four hours and you dressed them in formal wear while you wear only a tshirt and underwear what HAPPENED here”

POLITICS AU

  • “you’re a really unpopular senator and i’m a journalist determined to make your life hell but fuck you’re cute when you stutter and did i said that out loud?”
  • “you’re the only barista at the coffee shop near my office that is working at 6am so you get to hear my undercaffeinated ranting about how much politics suck and oh shit sorry yes i am your governor i should not have said that”
  • “i’m the new governor’s bodyguard and holy shit no one told me they’re smoking hot”
  • “i’m the first openly gay president and all the republicans are Losing It including my parents-in-law which are the ones making this even more awkward by going on tv saying i corrupted their daughter/son”
  • “i’m a secret service agent having an illicit affair with the president of the united states i deserve another shot even if i’m saying these things to the entire bar”
  • “we’re both running for the same government position and things become so heated between us during debates people are starting to bet on when we’re gonna bang”
  • “we’re old buddies from law school and i helped you with your campaign and we fell in love but you’re married and about to become president wtf we do”
  • the good wife au
  • scandal au
  • “i think it’s really cute you come to the bookstore to work on your campaigning but shouldn’t you have a staff for that oh yes i can help”

anonymous asked:

Hi! This is not exactly a question but here we go. So, I have two moms. A small percentage of people my age can say that (I'm 29). When I was a teenager I felt isolated from my friends, I never knew my childhood/adolescence girls who had two mothers ... my sisters and I were the only ones. I love my moms with all my heart. They are wonderful people and I only have happy memories of my childhood. What makes me very happy is to see more and more gay couples having kids. I am married to a woman ++

Continued: and we have two girls and, unlike how it was with me, they already know other children who also have two moms and they study at the same school. I see things are changing and lesbian couples are feeling safer to have children and I see things are changing and lesbian couples are feeling safer to have children because the law is now less strict. My wife and I had no problem registering our daughters shortly after they were born. I am very happy that my daughters will feel less isolated and have more stories with two moms (we read to them) and we choose a school that is receptive to same-sex couples kids. We still have a lot of challenges (especially with the things surrounding these gender issues), but my wife and I have a less complicated life than my moms had. They fought for me and my sisters and for our right to be a family … today they are still married and the best grandmothers my daughters could have. My daughters came home from school last week saying their friends always talk about how lucky they are to have three grandmothers and that they should always win twice as many gifts and eat twice as many delicious desserts as only grandmas can do lmao. They had this big smile on their face as they told me about it. My moms cried when I told them that. They have gone through so much and now they can see their granddaughters being proud of them. We sure have a lot of things to improve. There’s a lot of bad things going on and a lot of things regressing, especially for us lesbians. So I wanted to share this with you. The good things in my life that made me happy last week and how it’s amazing to see my two lesbian moms finally in a happy place spoiling their granddaughters. It warms my heart. I hope you and your followers have a nice day.
————–
This is absolutely beautiful, thank you so much for sharing it with me. Your family sounds lovely and I’m glad that you, your wife, your moms, and your daughters are doing so well ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Title: Memories
Fandom: Naruto
Chapter: 1 / 2
Genre: Angst
Ship: Kakashi/Sakura
Characters: Haruno Sakura, Hatake Kakashi, Uchiha Sarada (mentions)
Word count: 1,006
Triggers(s):
Rating: M
A
dditional Tags: Angst, this is very dark
Summary: Sakura remembers a lot of things and then she doesn’t

 Ao3

—-

Sakura remembers hold newly-born Sarada in her hand. She was so small and Sakura feared that she would not survive the trip back to Konoha. Sakura remembers being disappointed that Sarada had neither her pink hair nor her green eyes. She never did get into genetics the way Hinata did, but green eyes had always been a dominant gene within the Harunos. Her extended family might not have pink hair, but green eyes had always been a Haruno thing. Sarada, however, is a through and through Uchiha, with eyes and hair black like the night sky.

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Imagine being Bobby's daughter and falling in love with Sam

Prompt lent to me from @hiddenwritingsintheworld because she’s my wing woman and I need the practice!  Took a slightly different turn as what she suggested I do, but I figured throwing Bobby in more would be awesome.

You drove up to your father’s old salvage yard, passed the Help Wanted sign that had been up before you were born, and the rusted sign signaling you were home. Getting out of your refurbished 1976 charger, that you and your dad rebuilt together, you noticed another beauty; the 1967 Chevy Impala.

Your heart began to beat a bit faster, you hadn’t seen Sam Winchester in over a year. Unlike Dean who was more of an older brother to you, there was something about the younger Winchester that you were drawn to; yet never acted upon.

The last time you saw him, you both fought alongside one another in a salt and burn that went sideways. Emerging victorious but bruised and beaten, you each took turns stitching one another up, the whiskey calming your nerves, but amplifying something in your deepest core.

You couldn’t help but be aware of the way his calloused hands gently washed over your hip, gently attending to the wound where the coffin you both dug, had splintered and landed in your side. The way he bit his lower lip in concentration, goddamn how you wanted to bite that lip!
It was your turn to stitch up his shoulder and your fingers grazed his skin, the goosebumps rising as quickly as his breath hitched at your touch. You took your time; Sam had removed his bloody t shirt, his tanned chest amplified his anti possession tattoo. When you finished your impeccable stitching, you reached in with your mouth, gently biting the thread; your lips barely grazing his skin. You felt him tense and locked your eyes with his. He began to lower his lips to yours when the door to the motel opened,

“I’ve got beer, pie, and…,” Dean smirked at the two of you, sitting closely to one another, shirts removed.

“Am I interrupting something, Sammy?” Dean raised an eyebrow suggestively.

Jumping back from Sam, you quickly stammered that he wasn’t interrupting anything, grabbed a few things from your duffel, and called dibs on the shower.

Sam sighed, looked at his brother, sharing an understandable silent conversation, and when Dean pointed to the bathroom door, Sam just shook his head,

“No, Dean,” he sunk into the pillows, “not Y/N.”

“Seriously, little brother, you could cut the sexual tension with a switchblade,” Dean alluded.

“She’s Bobby’s daughter, Dean,” Sam grumbled.

“She’s hot, smart, can one up you in research and lore, and can kick both our asses,” Dean shook his head at his brother, “if she didn’t see me as a brother I would’ve made a move year’s ago…but you, Sam, what’s taking you so long?”

“What’s your excuse?”

“She’s. Bobby’s. Daughter.” Sam emphasized each word.

“Like I said,” Dean quipped, “what’s your excuse, man?”

You emerged from the shower and walked in on both Winchesters staring each other down.

“What’d I miss?”

Sam quickly looked over to you and back to Dean.

“Uh, nothing,” he said unconvincingly, “I’m going to grab a shower,” Sam hefted himself up from the bed and shot his brother another look before closing the bathroom door over.

“Dean?” You looked up to him with those dark brown eyes of yours, working your bottom lip.

“Don’t worry, kiddo,” Dean ruffled your towel dried hair, “Must be his time of the month, you know how Sam is.”

Chucking, you just nodded, but something had almost happened between you and Sam. Worrying your lip again, you pushed it aside, maybe you had just imagined it.

Remembering that night like it was just yesterday, you slammed your driver’s side door and made for your father’s house. Not bothering to knock, you swung open the rickety door and called out, “Dad?”

Bobby emerged from his crowded study and lifted you into a grizzly bear of a hug, “Damn good to see you, Y/N!” Patting his back and pecking a kiss to his scruffy cheek, you hadn’t noticed Dean and Sam standing to the side, until

Dean let out a not so subtle cough, “Where’s my little bit of sugar, Y/N?” He opened his arms to hug you and welcomed you back. “Looking good, old man,” you teased and heard Sam guffaw at Dean’s look of feigned hurt.

“Sam,” your eyes locked on one another and a huge smile graced your features, “aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” your tone flirtatious. It didn’t go unnoticed by your father or Dean, and Sam’s cheeks turned crimson. “

Y/N,” Sam took two steps toward you and enveloped you into his massive frame, “I’ve missed you,” he all but whispered, however, you heard him loud and clear. You held onto him longer than a friendly hug should last for and heard your dad mumble under his breath,

“Idjits.” You and Sam broke free and looked at Bobby with surprised faces.

“Sam, it’s about time you just man up and tell my daughter how you feel, because I swear if I have to hear her talk about you anymore, I’ll kill ya, just for a bit of peace and quiet!”

“Dad!” You gasped as he threw you under the proverbial bus. Dean threw back his head and laughed, smacking his brother in the back, “told you the same thing last year, Sammy.”

“Wait, hold up,” you looked from your father to Dean, “you told him?”

“Y/N, I love ya, but Sam here, well maybe you two should just grow a set and I dunno, talk?”

“Eloquent as usual,” you mumble, pulling on Sam’s jacket and up the stairs.

Dean and your father looked up at your retreating backs, clinked their beer bottles, and sighed, like the proud men they were.

“‘Bout damn time,” Dean winked and Bobby seemed to stop in his tracks. “Y/N!” He hollered after the two of you, “not in this house, you hear me?”

You couldn’t really care less what he just shouted, because you and Sam looked at one another and it was as if you were back in that motel room a year ago.

“Now,” you sat on the bed, “I believe we have some talkin’ to do.” Sam stalked toward you on the bed, tossing his jacket to the floor, along with his flannel. He then pulled his tight gray fitted tee over his head and you instinctively reached for the scar on his shoulder, that you had stitched up. “Y/N,” Sam chuckled, running a nervous hand through his hair, you’d never seen him so shy, “there’s something I need to tell you.”

“Sam, if it’s alright with you, I rather just show you,” you removed your shirt as well, “I think we’ve covered the talking part for years,” you pulled him into a deep kiss, “I’ve been in love with you since that salt and burn,” he kissed you back, you could feel his soul. He broke from the kiss, a mischievous grin grew on his lips, as he searched your face, ran his calloused hands down your exposed skin, “I love you too, Y/N.”

Downstairs, hours later, Bobby just poured himself another glass of bourbon, immersed himself into some lore, while Dean nursed another beer. “You think they told each other yet,” Bobby looked over at Dean who had a shit eating grin on his face, “Oh yeah, Bobby, they told one another a few times now.

“Balls!”

IMAGINE: Suspecting the Original Harrison Wells isn’t Harrison Wells

Note: That Picture and that Gif, I don’t own them. 

“Look mother, I know people handle grief differently but he’s different. He just acts like he doesn’t care and this isn’t a coping mechanism. Yesterday he was struggling to turn on the coffee machine” You countered as you rounded the corner. You were on your way to collect the last of Tess’ things from Harrison, or not Harrison as you liked to call him.  “I have to go, I’ll see you soon.”

You couldn’t shake the feeling that Harrison Wells, or the Harrison Wells you knew was gone. The kind, intelligent and loved up scientist had been replaced with an equally intelligent, arrogant prick. He’d left for Central City weeks after Tess had died, he was there for the funeral, all teary eyed and self-pity. An act, a very good one.

His house was magnificent, you gave him credit for that but this was the house he should have been sharing with Tess. A house the old him would have found too large without someone else. You left your bag in the car; this wouldn’t take long. A quick in, collect the things and then out. You didn’t even have to speak to the man.

You hesitated as you knocked. Perhaps it should have been someone else, another of their friends or maybe he should just keep Tess’ things. No you were doing the right thing, this man in your honest opinion wasn’t Harrison. The small boy you used to tease at school, the kind boy who taught you maths, and helped you with your homework.

“Ah, you’re here. Her things are in the guest room.” He stated as he opened the door. Dressed as always in his neat black suit and slightly unbuttoned white shirt. His glasses changed from how they used to be. No long transparent but blocked filled black. It was strange, but oddly suited him. You’d grown up with a nerdy looking Harrison and now he looked like a proper adult.

It didn’t take you long to figure out where the spare bedroom was located; Harrison being of little help as he disappeared into the kitchen. With the box safely in your arms you marched back towards the door. You stopped when you heard the frustrated sigh emitted from the kitchen. A growl of annoyance coming from yourself as you placed the box beside the front door. You had to speak to him, not that you wanted to, but you just needed the truth. You owed it to Tess.

“What are you still doing here? I thought you were picking up Tess’ things and leaving.” He remarked as you entered the large kitchen. It shocked you at how luxurious it was. Tess would have loved it, the large counter top so she could cook with Harrison. You remembered that one weekend when you stayed with them. Both had arisen from their slumbers early so they could cook little cupcakes.

“What happened to you?” You questioned him. There was no easy way to say the question. “You’re not Harrison. Not the Harrison I knew”

“I don’t understand. Why- What makes you think I’m not Harrison. Come on.” He stated, struggling with his words. A move Harrison would have made and you suddenly found yourself doubting when you were right. Perhaps he was just grieving differently. Then again, he didn’t even recognise Tess’ family when the turned up for the funeral. When the patted him on the back and told him their daughters’ death wasn’t his fault.

“You act like Tess was nothing to you. I haven’t seen you cry, throw things. No-one has. It’s like nothing actually happened. Like she never existed.” You spat back. You watched as his hands cupped his face.  Dragging them down he turned to look at you. His whole demeanour shifting.

“She didn’t” he muttered, you imagined he meant to say it in his head and the look on his face as he realised his statement agreed with you. “You should leave. You have no other business here. I’d like to live my life in peace.”

“No other business. You just said she didn’t exist. You once told me she was the love of your life; that you were going to marry her and have children with her. She was the woman of your dreams. What changed?” You shouted.

“I changed.” He retorted, his gaze dropping to the countered. You were unsure of what his next move was going to be as you stepped closer to him.

“You’re not Harrison are you?” You quizzed. “You look like him, you act like him on rare occasions. Heck you even sound like him but you’re not him.”

“No” he stated with a sigh. His word firm as it reached your ears. “And now I have a problem

To Find Your Way Home

Prompt: The reader being the youngest daughter of the Shelby family and she’s meeting her father for the first time, but she’s put in danger because of her wanting to know her father more.

Originally posted by quantumacid


You saw him in the bakery, in his bowler hat with that same moustache and cane. He was from the browned old photo in Polly’s dresser, of a woman and a man, husband and wife - mother and father. It was a strange thing, you thought, looking into his face. You couldn’t see anything of yourself in it. He was so unlike you but there was still something about him that was distinctly Shelby. He was just standing their, elbows on the baker shop counter like life was dandy. Like he didn’t have a family that he’d left behind. Like he was fine even though everything was broken. You froze when he looked over at you but his eyes went right passed. He didn’t even know who you were. You almost whited that he did. That he’d come up to you, hold you to him and say “Ah, there you are. My long lost daughter, things have never been the same since I left you behind,” but he didn’t and somewhere inside you you knew the he never would.

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POLITICS AU

submitted by @sassymajesty

  • “you’re a really unpopular senator and i’m a journalist determined to make your life hell but fuck you’re cute when you stutter and did i said that out loud?”
  • “you’re the only barista at the coffee shop near my office that is working at 6am so you get to hear my undercaffeinated ranting about how much politics suck and oh shit sorry yes i am your governor i should not have said that”
  • “i’m the new governor’s bodyguard and holy shit no one told me they’re smoking hot”
  • “i’m the first openly gay president and all the republicans are Losing It including my parents-in-law which are the ones making this even more awkward by going on tv saying i corrupted their daughter/son”
  • “i’m a secret service agent having an illicit affair with the president of the united states i deserve another shot even if i’m saying these things to the entire bar”
  • “we’re both running for the same government position and things become so heated between us during debates people are starting to bet on when we’re gonna bang”
  • “we’re old buddies from law school and i helped you with your campaign and we fell in love but you’re married and about to become president wtf we do”
  • the good wife au
  • scandal au
  • “i think it’s really cute you come to the bookstore to work on your campaigning but shouldn’t you have a staff for that oh yes i can help”
2

Imagine being Oliver Queen daughter that Damian Wayne’s age and being Bruce Wayne’s goddaughter Part Two.
°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°
There are only a few good things about being Mayor Queen’s daughter. The first one is that you always know what’s going on in city hall and the second one is that home schooling is incredible because I was already a fifteen year old in law school. But all good things have their bad parts, one of those being the constant surveillance.
The only time I not under the surveillance is when I’m at city hall, where the building is well guarded.
“Dad you should have told me.” I told my father as I confronted him about not telling me he was meeting with Bruce.
“I was planning on telling you after the meeting so I wouldn’t have to deal with you refusing to leave my office” Dad stated
“Mayor Queen, your eleven o'clock is here” the secretary said poking her head in the door.
“Let him in” Dad told her nodding to me. “You wait in the hall.”
“This isn’t over dad.” I said pacing Bruce on my way out. “Hello Bruce.”
In the hall, Damian sat in one of the chairs, drawing in his sketch book. Taking my laptop out of my bag, I took the seat beside him, deciding to some of my school work.
“You could use improvement.” Damian told me with out looking up from his work. At once I know he was criticizing my fighting skills.
“You should tell your aunt Nyssa that.” I whispered back. “She trained me.”
“Nyssa trained you to fight.” Damian particularly hissed as if the news of his aunt training me pissed him off more then her trying to kill me would have.
“Well by league law, she has rights to train her heir to fight.” I told him.
“Heir?” He questioned.
“Damian, it’s not my place to you.” I told him. “Nyssa hasn’t even informed Bruce of the truth yet.”
“So you’re part of the league” Damian asked.
“No, not really.” I explained. “Nyssa trained my mom Laurel, my aunt Sara, and she was forced into a marriage with my father when he was briefly heir to the demon. When she took over she believed I was the best chose to do what she wants for the league not what Ra’s or Talia wanted.”
“Clear my schedule for the rest of the day. ” Dad told his secretary as he and Bruce came out of the office.
°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°
Damian and Bruce looked around the Bunker. By the look on their face I could tell they hadn’t been expecting it to be as high tech as it was.
“Don’t look so shocked boys” I told them standing by Felicity. “Our girl Blondie here loves her tech and the Flash’s team helped us sat this place up after the last two were breeched.”
“And how many people know about this one?“ Dinah asked entering with Diggle.
"Team Flash, the Legends” Dad said.
“Most of the league” Diggle throw in.
“Darhk, Prometheus, Probably Slade” Felicity added.
“Don’t forget the Legion of Doom” I finished for them. “But hey that’s not all that bad.”
“Not all that bad” Damian asked a look of horror on his face.
“You left out Black Siren and Nightmare” Thea said entering the room.
“Wait who?” Bruce asked.
“Metas from earth two that are evil version of (Y/N) and Laurel Lance” Dad told him “We have them locked up in ARGUS.”
“Mainly because locking them up on Lian Yu would feel like he sent his daughter and dead ex girlfriend to purgatory.” I add at the end “and he just didn’t want to send them back to Star Labs.”
“Hold on” Damian said before pointing at me. “There’s an evil version of you locked up in ARGUS and that doesn’t freak you out.”
“Time travel changed her.” Dig told the boy.

Random oneshot? [Lucifer morningstar x Reader]

A/n: I thought of a possible story I could write or keep it as a one-shot where the reader and Lucifer have an 8-year-old daughter. 

 “No, absolutely not.” You state entering the penthouse with Lucifer on your tail. “I don’t want that-that whore anywhere near our creation. Your mother will not be staying here.” You add spinning on your heels to face the devil. 

 “I knew this was going to happen,” Lucifer muttered to himself, of course, he agreed with his wife on the matter. He didn’t want his own mother near his child. “It’s only for a little till I can figure out what to do with her.” Taking a deep breath, you slowly nod your head. 

“If she goes anywhere close to Zila, I’m personally dragging her ass back to hell.” 

 “Of course my darling wife.” The devil replies, kissing your forehead. “Now considering our daughter is asleep. We can take this conversation to the bedroom and quietly expression ourselves.” You let out a chuckle. 

 “Is there anything besides sex that’s on your mind?” 

 “Who do you think I am?” Lucifer states with a shocking expression. “I think about many different things like which heels would look better on my wife, or if I should have bought you that dress earlier. Which I regret not doing.” 

 “My goodness Luci. Just so you know, I’m going to keep my distance from your mother as well. I don’t like being around her, and since Zila is usually with one of us, I suggest having her over at the detective’s house till this issue is sorted out. I’m sure Trixie and Zila will get along.” 

 “Perhaps but I don’t think the Detective will like our daughter sassy personality.” 

 “You haven’t even told anyone about Zila have you?” 

 “She’s never gotten into any conversation but I’ve dropped hints. Besides, it’s exciting to think about her reaction.” 

 “I’m sure Chloe will be shocked.”

Lost { After Story } | Jumin x MC Fanfic

Fandom: Mystic Messenger (MysMe)

Pairing: Jumin Han x Reader/MC/You

Summary: This is an After Story of Lost as requested by these two wonderful people!!! uvu I give my shoutouts to Cyzuutan and this anon. why did you go on anon tho let me love you

The story takes place after the series of events from the Finale.

Genre: Angst and Fluff, you’ve been warned!

a/n: thank you so much for loving the mini-fic series of Jumin and MC (you). i hope i can write so much more like these things in the future!!! please continue to support me. and i love your ideas btw lolol thank you for requesting such! please have fun with this fic, you two wonderful people~ hope to see you in my new fic series! i felt all the support for jumin on this fic that’s why i hold it dear to my heart~ thank you once again! have a great day! ovo


“…she will have a sensitive pregnancy. I suggest you make the choice now, Mr. Han. Would you like to go through it or not?” I felt my world shattered when our family physician informed about her situation. This is what we both wanted—to have a family of our own. And this is how it’s going to be?

“Are you telling me to choose between my wife and child, Doctor?” I couldn’t help the hurt that’s going evident on my tone. This is what we’ve dreamed of. This is what we wanted. A family.

Why is it that I can’t have both? Why do I have to choose?

“We traced the reason between her conditions. She seemed to have undergone excessive drug intake and an accident, yes? From her records, she was in a car accident and was forced to take memory repressing drugs as well. And it all happened a year ago? This is all so fresh, Mr. Han. A year will not be enough to recover from such trauma. And your wife… she’s fragile. I’m afraid that… you really need to choose.”

I couldn’t swallow the lump on my throat. How can I face her now? The doctor asked that I’m the only one he needs to talk to and that I should relay it carefully to my wife.

I couldn’t bear to see her suffer. I… I can’t let her go through such pain. If this is what needs to be done to save her, I will.

Anything for her.

I have decided.

The day I told her about what will happen if we will go through her pregnancy, she cried. It was ultimately painful for me to see her suffer with the information and that I couldn’t do anything about it. Why was I not born with the capabilities to save lives? I would have traded anything just to do so.

I told her that her health is more important. If the fetus itself is going to kill her slowly inside, then we’ll have to get rid of it.

The child she carries that I never even met is mine. It is my own flesh and blood. But I can’t lose her. I love her too much. This time, not again.

That night, I cried.

Why can’t I have both? Is it a greedy wish? I wanted to ask that someone who is told to be guiding all life on earth. Why are you making us experience this? Why, of all people, my wife?

If I have sinned against you, why are you not delivering your punishment to me? Why are you making the people around me suffer? I don’t understand. I didn’t want to understand.

If only I can take her pain and bear it with me, I will.

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She Looks Like Her Daddy Part 2

Prompt: Reader dated Captain Boomerang (George ‘Digger’ Harkness) years ago before his thieving days –They break up, she comes to America to start over only to find out she is pregnant.  

Pairing: Digger Harkness X Reader

Warning:  Cursing, flashbacks, angst, and some serious feels

Here is PART 1, PART 3, PART 4 , PART 4 ½, and PART 5

Originally posted by darkseicl

“She’s a perfect baby girl.” The doctor told both you and your mother as she finished washing the infant, wrapping her in a blanket, and placing her in your arms. Looking down at this perfect bundle brought tears to your eyes. Chubby pink cheeks and a big head with a little blonde hair growing in. 

“I wish Digger was here to see this…” 

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You’re going to marry someone else.
You’re never going to have my kid.
And then when your daughter asks about the first guy you ever loved you’ll get to tell her about me and how she should never ever be with a boy like me.
And then maybe if I’m lucky I’ll be married too.
Somewhere.
With a kid and when he asks me about the first girl I ever loved I’ll get to tell him about you and how if he ever gets lucky enough to find a girl like you he shouldn’t fuck it up or I’ll beat his stupid ass.
—  Things he told me one night

Day 11

At auto dealer getting new tires. Had a morning food delivery shift that was so messed up. Barely made it to my appointment. Good thing I booked that 1 hour buffer.

My meds are at home and haven’t taken them yet. I just wanted to get a quick pic of my hair. Yes it gets that curly. My grandmother used to say all the time that I should have been a girl with curls like that. She’s been gone 8 years, never told her but think she would have accepted in her own cantankerous way. Unlike her daughter (Mom aka Endora)

Like father like son

Anon requested 

Summary: Klaus meets his adult son

Klaus x son

Warnings: Swearing, arguing between father and son


Klaus’s POV:

It was late at night, things have been different. I’ve supposedly found my son. He wasn’t little, he was an adult, and a vampire. We ran into each other in New Orleans. He looked like me. Same color eyes, hair, and he had a similar voice. I never knew I had a son, it was certainly shocking. “ How did you not know you had a son? “ Y/N asked. “ Your mother never told me, it’s not my fault, “ I say sternly. “ Yeah but if you do something like that with someone, you should have the common sense to ask, “ Y/N spat back at me. I breathed in heavily. “ She was the one with no common sense, she should have told me she was pregnant with you! I would have helped. I’m not that bloody evil, “ I yell. “ Would you have?! You didn’t seem to fond about the news of having a daughter, who knows how you would act about having a son! “ he yells back. 

“ That’s different! You don’t get to come into MY city and assume things about me from rumors! I’m your father treat me with some respect! “ I yell back. “ Treat you with respect?! You are not my father! Maybe by blood but not by heart! “ He yells. “ Like it or not, your my son. I don’t care how old you are, you listen to me, “ I say lowering my voice. He raised his head and walked out of the room, slamming the door. Elijah then walked in, turning to look off at Y/N storming off. “ He’s definitely your son, “ he says chuckling. I scoff. “ I’m just saying, he acts just like you, same temper. Its kinda like getting a taste of your own medicine, “ Elijah says walking out of the room. I glare at the door where he left and took a large gulp of whiskey. 

Originally posted by tumbrunette

I don’t have anything to give you, except my words.

And my hugs.

And my love.

I hope that is enough.

Please take this poem and cherish it like you have every embrace.

And every hello.

And every goodbye

we have ever exchanged.

It’s funny how, as we grow up, illusions are broken.

Things aren’t what they used to be.

Time passes.

People change.

We change.

We lose.

We gain.

We love.

We hate.

Even the things that never change

aren’t as beautiful as they used to be.

We get so used to them that we no longer stop and admire them.

The glory of

The sunrise.

The sunset.

The trees covering the mountains.

The flowers blooming from the soil.

I am sorry that over these years we have fought over things that don’t matter.

I am sorry for the times I took your consideration as anything but that.

I am sorry for any time my actions, my movements, and my words ever told you anything but

I love you.

I am sorry if my actions, my movements, and my words ever brought you down

when all they should have been doing is build you up.

You are an angel with invisible wings.

A goddess with her own desciples.

A queen with a crowded queendom.

A mother with daughters who love her more than anything in the world.

So much that my lifetime could be devoted to expressing my love to you and it would never be enough. Eternity and infinity have nothing on me and my unconditional love for you.

—  “Happy Mother’s Day and I’m sorry” by Mindy Paul