#future!fic

share the last line you wrote! (i cheated and i'm not sorry!)

Nancy is fully dilated and almost ready to start the pushing process. Mel is crouched at the receiving end, with Frank helping manage the equipment. His job right now is to ensure Mel can do hers without worry. To clear the path.

Summary: Decades after Luffy found the One Piece, Law is still with him.

Language: English

Chapters: 1/1

Words: 1,051

Fandom: One Piece

Rating: General Audiences

Warning(s): No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: M/M

Relationships: Monkey D. Luffy/Trafalgar D. Water Law

Character(s): Monkey D. Luffy, Trafalgar D. Water Law

Additional Tags: Luffy Is Pirate King, Future Fic, Post-Canon, Fluff, Minor Character Death, Implied/Referenced Character Death, (super minor honestly nothing to worry about), 10 Days of LawLu

Series: Part 10 of 10 Days of LawLu 2017

*The author of this fic can be found here on tumblr! If you liked their fic like I did, why not go give them some love @luffylaws ?*

Without any details, there's no way we can find your story. There was a fic titled Gotten, but IDK if the song is in the story because it's been many years since I've read it. Readers - if you think you know the story this reader is looking for, please send it in. Thanks! ~Lynne

Gotten by @anxioussquirrel

Kurt and Blaine never got together. They remained best friends through high school and college, then parted ways. Now they meet again in difficult circumstances. A story about friendship, lost dreams and broken hearts, with a happy Klaine ending. 

After the slightly slutty drabble yesterday, inspiration struck again for @galladrabbles and @sleepyfacetoughguy prompt "doubt". Oops.

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The past is a cruel teacher. 

It teaches Mickey that he’s never good enough, sick and perverted. To duck quicker to escape his father’s fist. To punch harder to quell any feelings that just.can’t.be.

It teaches Mickey that he’s shitty in any and all ways. 

The past is a healer. It’s huge hands, holding him so tightly. They won’t let go. Not ever again. 

“I love you, Mick.”, drowns out hateful words, teaches him that sometimes good things stay.

The present’s different. It’s small hands sliding around his neck, a tiny trusting voice whispering. 

THE ONE WHERE EVERYONE KNOWS by twosuns | Canon to 6x13. No anomaly no Sheidheda. Everyone knows how Bellamy and Clarke feel about each other. Except them. And NOBODY is exactly sure what's going on?

Lotus Corniculatus

Chapter One

BAZ

He pauses to turn to the sun once more, a smile spreading across his freckled face. Then he looks at me and holds out his hand in invitation.

“Let’s go, though. I don’t want to be late.”

I take his hand and we continue walking, more purposefully than before. I frown to myself. My gut tells me that I agree with Snow—I don’t want to be late, either—but I can’t remember why. I rack my brain trying to think of why Snow and I are at Watford, but keep coming up empty. Simon just keeps walking like he’s on a mission, and his confidence unnerves me even more. Why don’t I remember what we’re doing?

Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku

Darkanny

4357 words

POV Outsider

Low key fluff to celebrate Dean’s 40th. No real tags because fluff. Dean/Cas. Sam. Jack. Mary. Gaggle. Better together. Happy Endgame.

If he only knew that in five years he won’t be sitting in a car alone on his birthday, then perhaps he wouldn’t be gripping the steering wheel quite so tightly, or grinding his teeth, ignoring his favourite song on the radio, staring straight ahead, watching the headlights of Baby chase the shadows along the side of the road.

Move. 

Always keep moving. That’s all he can think. Stop and everything stops, and if that happens, then everything ends. Everything.

If he only knew that in five years he’ll wake up early, before everyone else. He’ll wake knowing full well that Jack will want to make him breakfast, but this year Dean’s decided to cook everyone else breakfast instead. Especially since Christmas was a goddamn bust, everyone having to scatter in different directions due to the monster mashing going on over the holiday season - people gonna eat, so gotta monsters - but there’s calm again. No storm on the horizon because they just weathered one. It’s different lately. Less choppy, more easy sailing, if Dean was to try and put words to it.

So, five years from driving down a pitchblack highway, he’ll wake up in his bed and kiss Cas on the cheek, creating a gorgeously sleepy creasing of it, before sliding his arm out from under him.

“Hey,” Cas will say and Dean will hush him fondly, telling him to go back to sleep, Cas opening his eyes stubbornly to look at him. “Where you going?” he’ll murmur.

“Just follow the smell of bacon,” Dean will smile mischievously, leaning down on one elbow to steal a proper kiss, his lips gently meeting Cas’.

“Jack won’t be happy,” Cas will warn, eyes closing again.

“I’ll let him make the toast,” Dean will say, gaze on Cas, tracing the already well-known lines of his face, feeling that soft joy of knowing Cas will drift off, safe and warm and comfortable, and that Dean, if he wanted to, could crawl back into bed and wrap his arms around this man and breathe him in and go back to sleep, too.

“Quit staring,” Cas mutters. “It’s just creepy.”

But a smile is already playing on his mouth and Dean will chuckle, grabbing a pillow and affectionately hitting Cas over the head with it before getting out of bed and heading to the kitchen. 

And he’ll make breakfast. He often does, but this time it’s not rushed. He takes his time. He sets the table. He enjoys Sam being the first in, his little brother giving him a hug and a smack on the side of the head as he calls him an old man, a term of endearment that makes Dean smack him on the ass with the spatchela. Which he then promptly washes in the sink before returning to the stove with it. It makes Sam laugh.

Mary will be next, kissing him on the cheek as the gaggle file into the kitchen: hunters and legacies and people they’ve picked up along the way. They’re all gathered here for what’s becoming a bit of a yearly summit, of sorts, where they sit down together at the end of January to review the year prior and go over any old actions that need addressing or new ones that need planning for the year ahead. It’s a good group. Most of them already feeling like family, some of them still earning their place.

When Jack shows, already dressed because he doesn’t often languish in his pajamas, he’ll stop in the doorway, staring at all Dean’s done, and Dean will tease him and say that he’d have sweated through his T-shirt if he had to cook for thirty people, and Jack reluctantly has to agree with that. They share a smile, and a hug, and then Jack happily takes charge of making the toast.

Then Cas will appear, hair on end and Dean’s favourite Led Zeppelin T-shirt all enticingly wrinkly from Cas insisting it’s the most comfortable thing to sleep in and a big smile on his face as he puts a party hat on Dean’s head, brokering no argument, while everyone breaks out in a hearty For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow and Dean laughs and blushes a little with all the attention, and then Cas will kiss him, and everything else will fade for a few seconds.

“Happy Birthday,” Cas will say, once he’s ended the kiss, and their eyes will lock, and Dean will say:

“Thanks, babe,” which will make Cas look at him in that way that makes Dean’s knees week, even after four years of sleeping in the same bed, and then he’ll declare breakfast served and everyone will cheer and they’ll sit around the library tables shoved into one big long table, and eat and talk and drink copious amounts of coffee all morning.

And that time, five years ago, when they had to defeat an archangel to save the world won’t even be mentioned.

He might send it a thought. He might send that night, alone in his car, a fleeting thought, and think how slow he was to waking up. Because he sat in that car wondering if he had ever truly lived his life. He was turning forty years old and he was spending it driving through the night and in that moment it felt like a mockery, like he should understand no matter what he did this was where he belonged and where he would always end up and the only difference was that he didn’t have anyone riding shotgun and wasn’t that telling of how things were always meant to be?

Regret and doubt like poison in his veins.

But now, five years after that long night, he’ll know how wrong he was in even thinking it, even more so in actually feeling it, and how wrong he was leading straight to him allowing that soft despair to eat away at him, because of what had to be done to defeat Michael. 

And, five years after his fortieth birthday, he’ll remember how important it was for him to be wrong, how necessary it was for him to let fear take hold and completely rule him. He’ll think back on that despair with pity, but without regret. He had to feel it. He had to feel it to face it.

His eyes will meet Cas’ over the table and Dean will know exactly why he had to go through it all. Why all of them had to. Because it’s brought them right here, to this table. The happiness he feels is bright and shiny and welcome. He’s home, with everyone he cares about around him, wearing a silly, glittery hat and sharing a knowing smile with the man across from him.

“Love you,” he’ll mouth then, Cas’ expression warming.

“Love you,” Cas will mouth back, and Dean will feel peace spread through him, the kind of peace that makes you wish it could reach out and touch everyone else in the room, and envelope everyone in the same sense of contentment.