wedding reception for her

Russell T Davies on Steven Moffat

We do not know how lucky we are.

When asked to consider Steven’s finest moments, I was overwhelmed by images. Heores and villains. Battles and beauty. Monsters and children. Then I realised that I’d only got as far as 20 minutes into The Empty Child -round about the joke about Marxism and West End musicals - and had to sit down for a cup of tea.

I think, as fans, we can focus on the detail - Mondasian Cybermen! - at the risk of missing the bigger picture. That picture being, in Steven’s case, that we’ve just seen one of the greatest sci-fi body-horror thriller action-adventure romances (plus comedy) of our entire lives, beamed on to our TVs for less than 10p, written by a world-class master of his craft who’s now so in command of his talent, he’s riffing on ephemera from 1966 and turning it into gold, whisky, sex, whatever turns you on best. We truly do not know how lucky we are to have a man of this calibre writing our favourite show.

Since leaving Doctor Who, I’m approached, now and then, by strangers who remember my withered husk from Doctor Who Confidential. There’s a glint in their eye as they say, “What d’you think of it now?” An awful lot of those people are dying for me to trash it. I think, genuinely, they’re trying to achieve an intimacy. I think, nastily, they want me to say something bad so they can take it online and have some strange sort of fun. And when I say, “I love it!” they often think I’m lying.

I love it. I love every episode the man’s written. I love the other episodes he’s rewritten and I think few people know how many that is. I love the detail, I love the scale, I love the people, I love the jokes. I love the fact that Steven himself is quite down on The Beast Below. The whole of the UK on a spaceship? The whole of the UK is a spaceship? I’d retire there and then, complete. Nope, for him, it just wasn’t good enough.

I love the man, in truth, I love his mind, I love his standards, I love his rigour, his darkness, his kindness, his ambition, his love of TV. I love the man who wrote the very last line of Coupling, which shows what a lovely human being he is.

I love his women. Consider, in bad fiction, which is most fiction, how women’s roles, which have suffered so many years of neglect that they can be summarised as ‘women’s roles’, fall into the same old categories. They are reduced to the Mother, the Wife, the Daughter, the Bride. Agents of sex and childbirth, nothing more.

But then look at what Steven does with those categories. The Bride stands tall at her reception - literally in her wedding dress - and summons the Doctor back itno existence with an Old Maid’s rhyme. When the Bride has a Daughter, it’s a vital part of a galaxy-spanning revenge. The Daughter then becomes the Wife, a woman of such swagger and joy and tenderness, the Time Lord finally falls in love. We’re not done yet. A lesser category pops up, the Dominatrix, complete with eye-patch, but don’t worry, the Bride who’s the Mother of the Daughter who’s the Wife kills her stone dead! Then a lesbian travels the universe and everyone adores her. And nestling at the heart of the show is Doctor Who’s very own problem category, the Companion, a title inherently subordinate to the Man. Until Clara comes along! Companion to every single moment in the Doctor’s life. A woman so strong that in her first appearance, and her last, Death itself cannot stop her. A decade before Wonder Woman, Steven started weaving his own vast female mythology across the stars, in a funny old children’s show on Saturday teatimes.

I could mansplain all day, but the other thing I love in Steven’s writing is the complexity. I’ve heard some tiny, distant rumours that some people might have a problem with that. But I think it’s the very thing that will ensure Doctor Who’s logevity. You see, in the old days, us older fans fell in love with this show because it was porous. It had gaps. It was cheap, it was rushed, it was lovely and brave and unapologetic, using three walls in Lime Grove to create an entire Dalek invasion of Earth. All those gaps allowed us in. We imagined the offstage armies. We embraced the wobbles and bumps. If Sutekh had a secret hand on his cushion, we hooted, or invented a reason why (Clara!). But we either imagined it better, or saw how good it was underneath. Which is exactly like falling in love.

Now, the modern show has a lot more money. You can see those armies centre-stage. Gallifrey is so gorgeous, it has a spare city. Cyber-fleets can explode behind Rory’s head as a throwaway joke. And sometimes, a lossy show allows the mind the slide off. But Steven has created a brand-new porous surface. He invites us into the plots. He gives us stories which vault and somersault and double-back and trick and trap and treat. It’s not so much porous, it’s more like a great big spinning double helix and we’re clinging on, spinning for our lives, and yelling with joy. Yes, it’s complicated, but that’s wonderful. It will keep people thinking about the show forever.

Okay, my favourite moment? It’s my favourite joke. A Good Man Goes to War. Rory approaches River Song in the Storm Cage, and she says she’s been on a date with the Doctor, to the frost fair in 1814. “He got Stevie Wonder to sing for me underneath London Bridge.” And for a second, there’s that lovely shiver as you anticipae the punchline. “Don’t tell him.”

That’s a small momnt from a man who’s created empires. But a favourite joke is a beautiful thing. I just looked up the line and it turns out, I’ve long since paraphrased it, but that’s even better - like I said, Steven makes us part of the text, and now I own it! The point is, I think of that line every few days. Literally, a couple of times a week, every week. Every now and then, when I’m washing up or watching TV, or walking into town, or whatever, it pops into my head. “Don’t tell him.” And I laugh. I laugh, every single time. It’s been making me laugh for six years and it will make me laugh for the rest of my life. Very few people can write a line capable of that.

We have been so lucky.

I have this random headcanon about the Captain Swan wedding, ok.

So Emma and Killian make up yadda yadda, the engagement is back on, and he has a long lovely talk with Charming to make amends and all is right in the Charming-Jones world. 

They get married and everyone (read: me) cries and it’s beautiful and wonderful and True Love Forever.

But then it’s the wedding reception. And while Killian and Emma and her family are all fine, whispers still persist following the drama that happened around the engagement and Killian’s disappearance. Gossip quietly tinges the party with the “well I heard he left her” and “no no no she kicked him out” and “well he killed her grandfather, I can’t believe David and Snow allowed this to happen” etc etc etc. 

And it’s probably someone like fucking Grumpy running his dumb mouth after too many beers when all of the sudden

**THWACK**

A fork jabs down, perfectly in between his fingers that rest on top of the table. 

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I’m a millennial born in 1987. So basically, I’m at a crossover. I am cool with the tech shit. But I still remember rewinding things in my VCRs, life before YouTube and not feeling the desperate need to photograph everything I did.

*Me, attending a wedding reception, talking to a teenage girl nearby who had out her iphone and was clicking anxiously*

*Me* “If you don’t mind me asking, um…what are you doing?”

*Her* “I’m taking a photo of my main course. For my blog.”

*Me* “It’s chicken and beans and roast potatoes. A nice meal but I don’t think anyone is that bothered about reading about it. Oh, well. Eh, the starter soup was well made, wasn’t it? I liked it a lot.”

*Her* “One of my followers said it looked icky.” 

You’re a Freaking Badass

Summary: The reader comes back from her friend’s wedding annoyed as all gets out because people don’t know how to mind their own business and Dean helps her calm down and remember that those people and their opinions don’t matter.

Word Count: 1189

Warnings: Mentions of weddings

A/N: I usually don’t write about specific events in my life, but dammit I just really needed to vent, and I also need Dean Winchester to comfort me, so here y’all go. Weddings suck. (And weddings in your hometown with all those people you grew up with and all of your parents’ friends suck even worse)


Dean looked up from the video he had been watching when the front door of the bunker opened. Y/N came in, her shoes dangling from her fingers and her hair a tangled mess from driving with the windows down.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Dean greeted. “How was the… reception…?”

When she walked by him without so much as a nod, he trailed off and furrowed his brow while watching her stalk towards her room. Well, something had happened at her friend’s wedding reception and there was no way Dean was about to let her fester away in whatever negative emotion was coursing through her body. So he shut his laptop and strolled after her.

“What’s up, Y/N?” asked Dean when he leaned up against the door jamb. She was angrily trying to unzip her dress, but was having no luck.

Finally she huffed in defeat and turned her back to him. “A little help?”

Well, Dean knew better than to get on her bad side when she was in a mood. So he quickly helped her unzip before walking over to her bed while she undressed and pulled on her sweats and an oversized tee.

As soon as she was dressed down, she whirled around and pointed an accusing finger at Dean. “You! Are not allowed to get married for at least a year.”

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8

Behind the Scenes of The Runaway Bride (Part Eight)

Excerpt from Benjamin Cook’s “Bad Reception” article in DWM #378

This, ladies and gentlemen, is Donna Noble’s reception. The room is adorned with decorations, party balloons, and a banner that says, somewhat prematurely, ‘Congratulations Donna & Lance’, but wedding presents, streamers, and sausage rolls lie strewn across the dancefloor, tables and chairs are overturned, the air is thick with smoke, and four artificial Christmas trees (watch out - they’re swines) are standing about, all menacing-like. Over there in the corner, chatting to a pageboy, is Donna herself, actress, comedienne, and famous lady Catherine Tate. In a wedding dress.

“How do you manage to run in that dress?” asks the pageboy.

“I know, it’s a bit tricky,” she answers. “Do you want to know a secret?” She hoists up her dress, but lowers her voice, “See, I’m wearing trainers!”

“Nice trainers,” nods David Tennant, the Doctor. “You should wear ‘em in wide shots!”

“Here we go, then,” calls out Peter Bennett, the first assistant director, “for a take. Nice and quiet, please. And turn over…”

Donna and Lance, her would-have-been fiance, climb out of hiding from behind a table. “You all right, sweetheart?” she asks, stepping over the wreckage of her wedding reception. “Michael? Connie? Sunita, do something useful -”

“Who’s Sunita?” asks Euros [Lyn, director].

“I’m making it this lady here,” replies Catherine, stroking the arm of a supporting artiste wearing an absurdly large hat.

“I thought Sunita sounded more like a bridesmaid’s name,” says the lady in the hat. […]

“I want this to happen at my wedding,” jokes Don Gilet, who plays Lance.

“That can be arranged,” says Any Effects’ Mike Crowley, the special effects supervisor.

Other parts of this photo set: [one]  [two]  [three]  [four]  [five]  [six]  [seven]  [eight] [nine] [ten]
[ All of by Doctor Who Behind-the-Scenes photo sets ]

Headcanon

Ginny was amazed to discover that Luna is a really good dancer, despite not liking dancing much. During their wedding reception, Luna swept her off her feet and kissed her tenderly on the lips. Ginny turned so red that her face matched her flaming hair.

Flufflet #1 for @lifeinahole27, to help reward her for writing her CSBB story!

First up, some wedding (reception) related fluff–


Emma had initially been opposed to having a redo wedding reception, but once it became clear that the whole town viewed it as the opportunity to have a really baller victory party, there was very little she could do to argue against it. 

So everyone all got dressed up again, went back to the rooftop, and enjoyed the wedding reception that should have happened a week earlier. And Emma had to admit, it was kind of a blast, eating, drinking, laughing, and dancing the whole night.

Her feet were killing her as they pulled up to the house once the party ended. Snow and Regina had both objected pretty vehemently to Emma being the one to drive, but Killian was still learning how to drive stick, so what else were they supposed to do? Besides, they had to drive home; Henry had decorated the Bug with streamers and cans and a “Just Married (Last Week)” sign.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Killian said as they climbed up the front steps.

“What?”

“Let’s do this properly.” He reached down and lifted her up in a bridal carry.

“Killian, we did this already.” They had; right after the final battle, he’d carried her over the threshold, insisting that this was going to be their wedding night, come hell or high water.

“Well, now we’re doing it again. Don’t argue with me.” And over the threshold they went.

“I need something to drink,” she said, before he could carry her up the stairs. “Come on, we’ll do the whole wedding night thing, I just want some time to breathe, okay?” God, how did couples go right to wedding night sex after their wedding receptions? All she wanted to do right now was sit and watch TV. Was that normal?

He set her down and wandered into the living room while she busied herself in the kitchen. “Want anything?”

“Perhaps some water–with a little lemon juice in it.”

“Oh, good idea.” She grabbed and extra glass and grabbed the bottle of lemon juice from the fridge. Killian hated it, preferring to use real lemons all the time, but she liked the convenience.

He was smiling at her, almost like he was dazed, as she sat down beside him and handed him his glass. He took a quick gulp and then settled his left arm around her. “I had a lovely time tonight.”

“Me, too.” Mmm, yeah, the lemon had been a good idea. “I’m just glad Gold didn’t kill you on the spot when you offered to shake his hand. Did you hit your head or something?”

“Inviting him and Belle was your idea.”

“Yeah, because Belle’s one of your close friends. We had to invite Gold because we invited her.”

He snorted. “Are you truly upset that I’m trying to put the past behind me and make peace with him?”

“No, just … I’m surprised, I guess. I just thought maybe you’d settle for not murdering each other.”

“He’s a father again, and he’s trying to make things work with Belle. I suppose the best way to keep him from relapsing is to ensure he has the same safety net that I have.”

“Noble.” She sipped her water.

“I try.” She let out a long sigh without thinking. “Something wrong?”

“No, just … I’m glad we got to have our wedding. I didn’t get to really appreciate just how fantastic you look in that tux.”

He grinned. “Aye, and now I can tell you just how beautiful you are in your gown. You look like a swan.”

“No,” she said, her face hot.

“Well, perhaps more so when you wore your veil.” She’d taken it off halfway through the night, and if she was being honest, she had no idea where it went. Oops. “But I stand by my comment.”

“Swans are vicious,” she reminded him.

“And elegant.” He gave her a strange look. “Those earrings look familiar.”

She blushed. “Yeah?”

“Yes. Where have I seen them before?”

“Our first date.”

The look of wonder on his face was enough to make her want to melt. “Really?” She nodded. “Well, they’re lovely.”

“And that date was lovely,” she said. “Your own issues aside.”

“Oy, I think I’ve suffered enough for that one.”

They sat quietly for a bit as they sipped their water. When he finished his, he set it down on the coffee table (on a coaster of course), and took her free hand in his. “I can’t believe we’re married.”

“We’ve been married for a week,” she reminded him. She began to toy with his rings.

“Aye, and in a week, I’ll still wake up and think about how strange it is that we’re married.”

“Bad strange?”

“Never.”

“I know what you mean.” She still felt almost giddy that she had a husband.

She wished little kid Emma could see this–that she’d grow up to be a literal princess who was married to the hottest man to ever walk the earth. Hell, she wished twenty-eight-year-old Emma Swan could see this; it would have been way more mind-blowing than the son she gave up for adoption showing up to tell her fairy tales were real. Or at least equally unbelievable.

Something felt different. “Whoa.”

“What?”

“Your rings.”

“Well, I had to remove it to wear my wedding ring.”

“No, I know. I meant the other two.”

“What about them?”

“They’re different.”

“Aye. Swan, you’re very astute.”

“Killian,” she said firmly. “We’ve known each other for a long time now, and you’ve always worn the same three rings. What gives?”

He sighed. “I’ll never entirely be free of my past,” he said quietly. “I can’t erase the harm I’ve done, the people I’ve killed, the destruction I’ve caused. But I want our future together to be a happy one. I want to spend my days building something with you, with our family. It’s why I’m trying to make peace with the Crocodile.”

“If you’re trying to make peace with him, you might want to stop calling him that,” she interjected. He glared at her. “Sorry.”

“As I was saying, my darling wife.” His irritation was fond, at least. “Those rings were always reminders of the man I was. For a long time, I assumed I would always wear them, as a way of never letting myself forget to stay on the right path. But I had to part with one of them so I could wear my wedding ring, and it made me realize …” He took a deep breath. “My ring symbolizes all that now. I look at it, and I think of you and our life together. I don’t need the other reminders anymore. And so I decided it was time to find some new rings.”

“I think that’s great.” She lifted his hand up and kissed each ring, ending on the wedding band. She loved seeing it on his hand; she didn’t think she’d ever get tired of it. “I do like the new rings a lot.”

“I’m glad. Your family helped pick them out.”

“Seriously?”

“Well, mostly your mother and Regina,” he admitted. “But your father and Henry approved the final choices.”

She looked down at his hand again. She’d grown so familiar with his old rings that the new ones had felt all wrong. But now? They weren’t wrong anymore.

God, she loved him too much. And now he was her husband.

“Killian?”

“Aye?”

“Let’s go have our wedding night.”

Speed Date (W/Kenny Omega)

Originally posted by toosweetme

This is a new short series I’m starting based on an idea from @waynscastle thank you for this marvelous idea <3 They’re going to be short because it’s all about speed dating and I might end it with a longer story where the reader picks one of the guys and goes on an actual date. I’m not sure yet but anyway, enjoy speed dating with wrestlers lol. I have three guys already planned but I need five more to do so if you have someone you want to see in this, let me know.

Tags: @daintymissdevitt @sarahmatthews7 @shadow-of-wonder @happiness-in-reznor @tooweirdforlifex @fan-fiction-galore @omgmissmillie @thedeboniardevistation @jazzytoosweet @mindsetcalamity @alexispoo @mermaidfett @thathpchick @skyrina @laziestgirlintheworld @ang-78 @valeonmars @laigy2213 @squirrel666 @brooklyns-scumbag @megan-monroe @wweximaginesxd @lclb13 @phlebotomyprincess1 @awkward-potato-imagines @effy-christine @pjanina13 @fearlessflawlessdior @wrestlingnoob @fandom-preferences-imagines @superkixbaybay @wrasslin-x @xxmaddhatter39xx @legitlunatic

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OKAY SO EVERYONE HAS SEEN THIS PICTURE RIGHT???? PRETTY AWESOME! Well, the girl’s name is Emily, and she is one of my friends! We met at that very con and we have built a wonderful friendship. GUESS WHAT?? She’s getting married! It would mean so, so much to her if we all teamed up and maybe got Sebastian to see the post she made on Instagram inviting him to her wedding reception. Now, we all know it’s a long shot for him to ACTUALLY GO, but if he could see the post, that would really make her happy. Sebastian means so much to her and to all of us, so if you could take like 2 seconds and tag him in the comments, you would really help someone out. She works so hard to be able to meet him and support him, it would mean so much to her if you would. She would do the same for everyone!! The link is below, and thank you so much!!! https://www.instagram.com/p/BSgoPuJhFj-/

Originally posted by a-dork-ablee

ghost-chicky  asked:

Prom your dad is friken wILD

You literally dont understand how crazy my dad is ok.

⭐️when we went to india like years ago during a festival there is this event where you literally run across roofs and throw FLAMING FIREWORKS at each other ok. My fucking dad. MY DAD lit two entire boxes of fireworks and threw them. No one was hurt but oh my god
⭐️that same day he gave me a rocket launcher for a firework. It was literally the size of me and hella illegal but yet here it is in front of me. Im scared as shit and dont go near it. He fires it instead of me and THE FUCKING THING IS UPSIDE DOWN AND FIRES DIRECTLY INTO HIM. I was like “bye dad” but he was ok.
⭐️ my parents own a hotel 3 hours away from my college and i work there sometimes. We have this corridor that runs inbetween the entitr hotel for pipes and maintence. My dad walks back there as per routine and FINDS A MAN BACK THERE. Any normal person would freak the fuck out and call the cops right?? Nope not my dad, my dad fucking rUNS AFTER THIS 6'5 GUY OUT OF THE CORRIDOR AND OUT INTO THE ROAD WITH A 5 FOOT POLE HE FOUND. The only reason i know this is because i heard and saw the guy screaming outside the hotel running fast as hell.
⭐️ whenever my dad gets bored he comes up to me and i do random shit to him. Once at my cousins dinner reception after her wedding we were waiting for a table at a resturant. Hes bored so he comes up and he has a huge potbelly (from drinking like hes some anime protag) and i start patting his stomach like its a bongo or drum. I do that for a good fucking 20 min until my dad starts laughing and i see all my older cousins and relatives staring at me. HE FUCKING KNEW WHAT HE WAS DOING

Last one

⭐️ my dad had a box of raisens from the farmers market next to him. I sat down next to him and started eatting them. My mom comes in and bloody screams like something crawled out her ass and screams “THERE ARE BUG EGGS AND HUGE DEAD SPIDERS IN THOSE RAISENS” i start screaming and run to the bathroom to try to throw up and my dad knew tje entire fuckinh time i was eatting them that there wete bugs in the raisens. The entire time. He watched me eat them. You wanna know what he said? “Good protein” i didnt eat raisens for a good year and a half after that.

Love you dad

Gruvia Week - Day 07 ~ Future

“Juvia loves that picture.” Gray looked her over his shoulder while he went to turn off the lights so they could go to bed and saw her staring at the picture on top of the mantel-piece of the fireplace. “A picture with you smiling, Gray-sama, is very rare.”

Gray snorted and turned off the lights, the fire on the fireplace their only source of light, and he walked back in her direction. “I didn’t see that one being taken so I my guard was down.”

“Juvia is glad it was.” She smiled and Gray glanced at the picture and even he had to admit it was a beautiful photo. They were at the reception of their wedding, Juvia wore her beautiful white dress and Gray had to put a spell on his tux so he couldn’t take it off. Juvia had her arms around his shoulders and her bouquet in her hand while Gray had his own arms around her waist and they were looking at each other, both with grins and their eyes sparkling in happiness. “That was one of the happiest days of Juvia’s life.”

“You know what? Mine too.” Gray put a hand on her lower back. “I just had a little panic attack first.”

Juvia was surprised. “You did?”

“Kind of.” Gray scratched the back of his head and he looked down. “Not because we were getting married or anything. Of that I was very sure.” She was even more confused and Gray sighed. “Look, you know it’s different when we are alone; I don’t like when people know about my feelings. You know what I feel for you and that’s enough. That day, though” he looked to the picture “I was about to swear in front of everyone I knew to always love you, be with you and etcetera.” He snorted. “Not very good at vocalizing my feelings.”

“Your vows were beautiful.” Juvia smiled softly.

“Yeah.” He clearly blushed and cleared his throat. “You needed to hear them, not everyone else.”

She looked alarmed. “If Juvia knew you were uncomfortable, she would’ve never asked for such a big wedding-”

“No, no.” Gray shook his head, calming her down. “I wanted to give you that. It made you happy to plan the whole thing and that was my biggest concern: to make you happy; in the end I ended up really enjoying. I was panicking, though, because I was afraid I was going to say something wrong – you know I have a talent for that.” Juvia chuckled and Gray offered her a small smile. “When I told Natsu I was worried he told me that if I was running, I needed to move from Fiore because the girls would hunt me down and he wasn’t going to stop them.”

“Juvia always knew Natsu-san liked her more than he liked you.” Juvia teased him.

Gray just rolled his eyes. “I just took a shot of booze to calm down and convinced myself that I wasn’t going to screw up.”

“You didn’t screw up.” Juvia put her hands on his shoulders. “And was the alcohol the reason why you look so happy in that picture?”

“Not really.” Gray shrugged, trying to be nonchalant about it, but Juvia saw right through him. “I was happy because I had just married you, I guess. Finally the future looked like a good thing instead of what would otherwise be.”

Juvia’s smile could’ve lit up the whole town and she tip-toed to give him a kiss. “Juvia was happy she had just married you too.”

“Good.” Gray said. “Now let’s go to bed, you must be exhausted and it’s cold, I told you to wear the thicker robe.” He reprimanded her gently.

“Juvia doesn’t think that folding clothes exhausted her, it was soothing, actually.” She answered him as they walked towards their bedroom. “And of course it’s cold. Only Gray-sama’s baby would be just a few days away of being born during the coldest winter Magnolia has faced in the last one hundred years.”

Gray smirked and saw Juvia rub her stomach lovingly and he put his own hand on her stomach and felt their son move. They had decided to have a baby the year before and the baby was due in a few days. “He’s very active.”

“With luck, he’ll realize his mother would like to sleep tonight and he’ll follow her lead.”

“What are the chances of that happening?” He asked.

Juvia chuckled but he could see she was tired. “Close to zero, actually.”

“He’ll be born in a few days and you’ll sleep better.”

The blunette snorted. “We won’t sleep for the next decade, Juvia hopes you know that.”

“Not really looking forward to that future.” The Ice Mage said, sighed in fake resignation.

“Oh, shush.” Juvia laughed. “The moment he’s here you’ll be wrapped around his little finger.”

Gray chose not to answer, knowing his wife was right and just led her to their bedroom, feeling happy he chose to stop denying his feelings a while ago and just embraced the best future he could ever have.

——————————————————–

I hope this year’s Gruvia Week was amazing to everyone! <3

No Regrets - Second Home

Not a request but a few of you ( @remybosslika @percywinchester27 @atc74 ) asked about their wedding so I have decided to make a few planning drabbles before actually writing the wedding drabble.

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: Wedding planning, surprises

Word Count: 734

A/N: This is a drabble complication. All drabbles fit into the universe I created for my Jensen x Reader series Living with Regrets. Most can be read as stand alone, but will also very much be part of the series.

This takes place a few months after part 9 of Living with Regrets. Jensen has asked Y/N to marry him and she has accepted. Finding out how and where the wedding is gonna be will be the next step.

Unbetaed - all mistakes are mine

LIVING WITH REGRETS MASTERPOST

NO REGRETS MASTERPOST

“Jay this is not the way down town,” Y/N objected as Jensen pulled right out of Jared’s Austin driveway rather than left. They had been staying at the Padalecki’s since yesterday. It was a long weekend and Y/N and Jensen had decided to fly back to Texas to start trying to find a venue for their wedding reception. Jared and Gen had immediately offered their home to them, which also gave Jensen and Y/N some spare time away from their lively 4 year old since she was busy making life interesting for Tom and Shep.

“I know,” Jensen smirked at her before refocusing on the road. Jensen chuckled as Y/N began scolding him about all the places they had to see and them not having a lot of time. He knew she would forget everything in a few moments. Jensen pulled onto a side street and 3 minutes after leaving Jared’s driveway he stopped. Y/N hadn’t realized yet but he had actually just driven around the Padalecki property. Jared’s backyard and the backyard of the house Jensen had parked in front of was only separated by a fence.

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Hometown Weddings | Part 3 | TOM HOLLAND X READER

Description: The day of the wedding finally arrived and Tom is ready to go through with his deal and tell the reader how he feels. Only, things don’t go exactly as planned.

Word Count: 2151

Part 1 | Part 2


9:30 AM, THE MORNING AFTER THE WEDDING

Tom’s head pounded against the inside of his skull as he woke up the sound of a scream. He sat up straight quickly and groaned loudly, clutching his head. He opened his eyes and winced at the brightness of the sun streaming through his hotel window.

Tom lifted a hand to shield his eyes from the light and looked in the direction of the scream. His eyes widened significantly at the sight before him. (Y/N) was sitting right next to him… in his bed… and from what Tom could tell she was completely naked.

(Y/N) was staring at him wide eyed, clutching the bed sheets to her chest trying to cover herself up. Her hair was a mess and last night’s makeup was smeared all around her eyes. Neither of them moved an inch.

“What the fuck,” Tom yelled, then winced at the loudness of his own voice.

“Not so loud,” (Y/N) groaned, clutching her head with one hand. It became clear that they were both extremely hungover. “Did we?” she asked trailing off, looking over at him.

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Love, jealousy (and other inappropriate feelings)

Here it is! My jealously one-shot I’ve been ruminating over!


Best friends shouldn’t fall in love.
But she has.
And now it’s just complicated.


Also on FF.NET and AO3  


A wedding was supposed to be a time for happiness and good cheer. Well, at least that’s what Emma supposes, having only ever been to one wedding before she arrived in Storybrooke and that was in Vegas when she was dragged into a chapel by a drunk couple to be a witness. (She was technically working- trailing a skip - but the pleading puppy dog eyes of the young bride were enough to make her sacrifice a half hour of her time.)

Literature, movies and goddamn society were insistent that a merry time be had on the occasion that two people decided to legally entwine their lives - and so she would. Aided by vodka.

She should be happy. And really she is - hell, her one of her best friends was marrying the love of her life (and though Emma still balked at that term in general, for Mary Margaret Blanchard and David Nolan she was happy to give a pass).

But really, it was awful, terrible, horrendous timing. Because just as one couple was making the ultimate commitment, Emma herself was realizing that she was in love with her best friend. And he couldn’t be more oblivious.

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anonymous asked:

Supercorp- slowdancing

Slow Dancing


“I’m sorry I ruined our night.”

Lena feels the anger seep out of her at her wife’s words, turning to find Kara still dressed in her Super suit, standing by the balcony door.

“You didn’t ruin our night.” She says it, but she knows it’s a lie - knows that Kara knows it’s a lie.

“I think I kind of did.” Kara gestures behind Lena to the elegantly set table and the barely flickering candles.

Lena allows herself a moment of self-pity at the sad sight. Her playlist had long ago ran out, and the piano solo that echoes throughout the apartment is achingly sorrowful. Fitting for a woman left to eat dinner by herself.

But she pushes it aside, because Kara is here now; and judging by the soot on her cheek and the tears in her suit, the battle was not easily won. Kara may be Supergirl, but she isn’t invulnerable, and Lena knows better than anyone that time is fleeting. She wants to enjoy the time she has with her, and not let her mood from earlier ruin things.

“Dinner is still in the oven.” She says hopefully. “And you know I have an endless supply of candles.”

“Lee.” Kara steps forward, and a hand reaches out to brush her cheek. “I’m sorry.”

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