#the room is pitch black. all lights off. bedtime. what makes her think this is ok

[worldblight]

Can my roommate stop having a racial debate over the phone when I'm trying to fucking, sleep

[peachesofteal]

Light on - single mom/neighbors fic Simon Riley/female reader

Morning comes with dark regret. 

Light tries to fight past his curtains, luxurious slivers of sun peeking through the edges, casting sharp beams across his face. It’s what wakes him, at first, gently bringing him to consciousness, easing him into reality- before memory slaps him across the face. 

Fuck. Did he dream that? Was that real? 

He tries, for a barely there moment, to pretend that it was a nightmare. That he didn’t shut you out, turn you away from his door, sweet, beautiful face smiling up at him, timid offering on your lips. 

“Thought we could, um, try this again?” 

His stomach sours when he remembers the way your shy expression shattered, how you faltered, confused and… hurt. He hurt you. He took your trust, your precious heart, and smashed it to pieces because he was afraid. Because he couldn’t let you see. 

His reflection in the bathroom mirror makes him sick. 

Fucked up nose, fucked up face, fucked up, cruel, awful person. 

Maybe he's more like him than he realizes.

How could he have done that to you? To you. The one person in this entire world that makes him feel warm, that makes him want something more, that gives him hope. His girl. 

He knows why, of course. He didn’t want you to see him, didn’t want you to know what it was like. Wanted to shield you from it, keep you and Emmaline tucked away in the space inside his heart, where you're safe. Where you don't realize how much of a monster he is. Didn’t want you to witness the come down, the decompression, the shedding of his skin post mission. Didn’t want you to know that he’s not always the man you think he is, the one you know, the one you trust to hold your baby and take you to the hospital and eat dinner in your kitchen. He didn’t want to shatter the illusion, didn’t want to step out from behind the lie. He wasn’t ready for it to be over yet. 

Because what would you have done, if you met Ghost? If you realized that your neighbor is a professional killer? A war criminal? Sure, he told you what he does for a living, but he didn’t tell you that much. And fuck. He couldn’t just let you in his flat. He hadn’t even showered, hadn’t gotten all the grease off his face. He still had blood under his fingernails, men’s dying screams echoing in his ears. How could he let that touch you? How could he let any of that, be anywhere near you? 

You and Emmaline would be far better off if he stayed in the shadows. Kept an eye on you, kept you safe, but kept his distance. A good man, a better man, would spare you the pain, the heartbreak, of bringing something like him into your life. 

The problem is, Simon’s never been a good man. 

He tries calling you. When it goes to voicemail, he hangs up, rolling over in bed, burying his face in his pillow. He keeps himself tucked under his blankets, sleep desperately pulling at him, trying to drag him into the black abyss of his dreams and when the minutes tick by and you don’t call him back… he begrudgingly succumbs to the cocoon of sleep. 

He calls again, later, as the sun is setting. You don’t answer, and he tells himself you’re probably busy, busy getting Emmaline and you fed, busy trying to settle her for bedtime. Busy ignoring him. He strains to listen through the walls, hoping to catch the muffled sound of your voice, or the TV, Emma’s cries or giggles, a sign of some kind. A sign that he should try again. Call you again. Knock on your door. 

He hears you in the hall an hour later.

Emmaline is crying, and you’re trying to soothe her, low pitch of your “shhh, shhh, shhh” slipping under his door and down the hall to where he’s pacing in the living room. He bolts to his front door, swinging through the frame, turning towards where you’ve got her in a wrap against your chest, backpack straps looped through your arm.  “Shit!” You yelp, eyes wide. Emmaline startles against you, cheeks wet with tears, and then she quiets, mouth hanging open. “Jesus. You scared me.” You’re fidgeting with your keys, fingers clenched just a little too tight around the ring. 

“Sorry.” 

“It’s okay.” You smile at him, but it’s all wrong, the kind of smile you might give a stranger, someone you only know in passing. His stomach flips. 

“I tried calling, earlier, uh- are you two… busy?” Let me explain, sweetheart. Please. I’m so sorry. 

“She’s overdue for a bottle,” You motion to Emma, who’s now gazing at him with a sweet little smile, tears evaporated. “and she’s got a tooth pushing through, so it’s been a really long day.” You sound exhausted, and look it too, shifting your weight, stretching with a bit of a wince, and he frowns. Is your back hurting you? Is it your neck? Where is the stroller? 

“Do you need some help?” C’mon love. I know I hurt you, let me explain. Please. Let me help. You need me. I need you. He takes a step towards you, longing practically dragging him by force into your orbit, but your face twists, and you move backwards, away from him. 

His heart cracks in his chest. No. Please.

“Ah, no. I got it, no worries.” No worries. No worries? “With the teething, she’s… I’ll try to keep her quiet. Just let me know if she’s too loud or if it’s a problem.”  

“It’s not a problem.” He rushes to reassure you. “Of course it’s not, sweetheart. I… if you have some time, later… I want to talk to you, about last night, I-“ 

“Oh, it’s fine. Don’t even worry about it.” You wave him off, eyes tight, lip tugged between your teeth. Emmaline lets out a small cry, just the beginning of a wail, and you sigh. “I’ve gotta get her inside.” He doesn’t want to push you, doesn’t want to make you feel like he’s backing you into a corner or trying to force you to listen to him, and he doesn’t know what else to do. He feels lost. Stupid. So, so stupid for letting his girl, his… family, slip away from him like this. 

“Alright… well, let me know if you need anything, yeah?” He asks gently, and you nod without looking at him, eyes bouncing from Emmaline to the floor, to the keys in your hand. 

“Sure.” 

[pandorasword]

Chaeri as the 8th and youngest member of BTS.

「 Chaeri's Masterlist on my blog 」

☾ BTS' bedtime habits with Maknae

❐ Hobi

჻ How many times have we said these two are the perfect roommates?

჻ Literally, they get along so well in sharing space and a bed that they never fight about it

჻ Before going to sleep, they always make sure the sheets are well laid out and snug, they cannot stand wrinkled fabrics

჻ They keep a dim light on, Chaeri doesn't like sleeping in pitch black

჻ Neither of them ever crosses over to the other's side, unless it is a voluntary act

჻ Although they do not sleep very close they never turn their backs on each other

჻ Before going to bed Hobi lets Chaeri use the shower first and when he comes out of the bathroom later, he finds her already asleep most of the time

჻ He still wishes her a good night by giving her a kiss on the forehead, even if she is asleep

❐ Yoongi

჻ Although Chaeri generally takes no time to fall asleep, when she is with Yoongi she would stay up until sunrise talking to him

჻ And no matter how much he loves his little sister, he just can't stay up all night paying attention to her

჻ Sometimes, to make her fall asleep and thus also enjoy some well-deserved hours of rest, he tells her to roll over on her back so that he can pet her

჻ Good strategy to put Chaeri to sleep, never fails

჻ Inevitably, Yoongi ends up falling asleep with one hand on the girl's back and is very likely to wake up in the same position in the morning

჻ Being Chaeri's roommate may seem a daunting job, but he is internally happy to have her by his side rather than with others

჻ It must be said that when they are not in bed they tend to fall asleep much more easily (on the couch for example)

❐ Namjoon

჻ They often share a room and bed

჻ He always had quite reasonable rules for when she was younger, such as not using a cell phone in bed after a specified hour so she could rest and do a good job the next day

჻ Now that she is adult enough to decide what to do, when she sleeps with him she still unconsciously tends to follow the advice he gave her

჻ Namjoon is a mess, he moves enough to pull the covers off her all the time

჻ Also synonymous of how stressed he is all the time that he cannot even rest peacefully

჻ The solution to this is, for her, to cling onto his arm so that she does not find herself cold the next morning and to transmit her love towards him.

჻ Namjoon loves to cuddle her before falling asleep, it really relaxes him

჻ He hates having her hair on his face though, so at bedtime he always asks if she could tie it up

❐ Jin

჻ Jin literally jumps for joy when he knows that he will share a room with Chaeri

჻ He LOVES praising the adorable pajamas she wears when they sleep together (all gifted by Jin, of course)

჻ Before going to bed, they have their ritual consisting in a beauty mask and boiling herbal tea 

჻ Yes, even if it's hot as hell outside

჻ Sometimes they fall asleep with their face masks on, obviously soiling the sheets as they fall off their faces during the night

჻ They do not sleep cuddled together, but give each other attention until a few minutes before sleep

჻ Sometimes Jin clutches Chaeri's shirt from the side of her back in his sleep because, when she was younger, she had a terrible tendency to fall out of bed every night

჻ They have like four pillows to sleep on

❐ Jimin

჻ They cling to each other for most of the night

჻ It comes so naturally to them that they don't even have to think about it

჻ They start the night under the blankets watching some TV shows from the iPad and end up falling asleep on one another every time

჻ THEY NEVER TURN OFF THE LIGHT (and are always scolded for it) (funny that Jimin is the one to scold Jungkook too when he does the same)

჻ Neither of them likes sleeping in the dark and any excuse is good to leave it on

჻ When the older ones give them glances all the time to turn it off, they leave the iPad on some video all night so that it can light up the room properly

჻ Chaeri likes to hold Jimin's hands during the night, she finds them so soft

჻ Jimin forces her to sleep with socks on because he complains how cold her feet are every night

❐ Taehyung

჻ When they share a room they sleep as little as nothing

჻ They are best friends, they can't help spending hours gossiping, playing silly computer games or having deep conversations

჻ Anyone in the next room can swear they can hear them giggling incessantly for hours on end

჻ Unbearable or sweet? Depends on your point of view

჻ Tae personally braids Chaeri's hair before letting her lay her head on the pillow

჻ Chaeri personally takes care of getting him his chocolate treat for the night snack instead

჻ Poor nutritionists, when these two sleep together they break every rule in their diets

჻ When they decide it is finally time to rest, they take turns sleeping on each other's shoulders (it depends a lot on who needs the most emotional support that night)

჻ They wake each other up during the night if one of them cannot sleep for some reason, in that case they would get dressed and go for a walk to clear their minds

❐ Jungkook

჻ Let's start assuming that he CANNOT sleep straight and stay in his own space.

჻ This would mean very limited space for Chaeri, if it wasn't that most of the time she sleeps with almost her whole body on him

჻ They have always slept quite close, even before they started being a 'thing'

჻ Chaeri loves the smell of his shower gel and steals it from him whenever they sleep together hence they share the bathroom in the room

჻ Jungkook pays a lot of attention to stroking her hair and face when they are in bed, he likes to see how she relaxes at his touch

჻ Chaeri loves to fill his chest with kisses to show him how much she appreciates his loving touch

჻ When they wake up in the morning they definitely have each other's smell on them

჻ Their bed is always a mess, blankets and pillows in chaos (and it's the only time Chaeri doesn't care about tidiness at all)

჻ Since they are no longer together they try to avoid sleeping together

჻ When it happens, however, neither of them can avoid falling into temptation and giving in to their old habits

[harryhoney-bee]

I'm feeling really soft and fuzzy today, So if I can request something I want to do that abeja 🐝💓

#Concept: Nightly routine with y/n and Harry- parents of two little babies.

Tag me if you write this baby ✨✨

Adore you alot 💕

Night Routine

Warning: your ovaries might explode... mine did 🤚🏻 I would give this man 9 children if he asked.

Word count: 1.7k

I have a kofi, so please consider buying me coffee if you can <3

I hope you enjoy it!! Let me know what you think 😚

“But I want to take a beth with him, daddy,” Cecília whined to Harry, while he undressed her, putting her new pajamas and towel on the bathroom counter.

“My little darling, he is still little, he can’t take bath with you,” Harry explained, taking Cecí on his lap and putting her inside the warm tub, handing her some of her favorite toys. “Lorenzo is just 6 months, he’s not as big as you.”

Harry made a bowl with his hands, wetting her curly hair and applying shampoo, a pout still on her face. “Please, daddy?” she said, her chubby hand grabbing his arm. Cecí had already mastered her puppy eyes technique, and she knew how much her dad had a weak spot for her.

“Alright, alright,” He finally gave in, “but he will stay outside of the tub, he doesn’t know how to sit by himself.”

“Thank you, daddy!” The girl splashed water around in excitement, which made Harry smile. That’s how he always wanted to see her: happy and healthy.

Harry went to the door, keeping an eye on the girl in the tub. “Baby? Are you done nursing? Cecí wants to see Lorenzo,” he tried to call his wife as loud as he could while being mindful of Lorenzo, who could be asleep by now. He never wanted to alarm any of him or Cecília with his loud voice.

In a matter of seconds, Y/n appeared in the hallway, a confused expression on her face while Lorenzo was calmly laying down on her arms, his little hands resting on Y/n’s shoulders. “What’s wrong? Why does she want to see him? We just had diner together,” she asked, heading in Harry’s direction.

“I’m not sure, guess she just missed him,” Harry answered, giving his wife a kiss on the forehead and bending down to talk to a very awake Lorenzo. “But who wouldn’t miss you, huh? Such a cutie, right buddy?” he was aware that using a baby voice wasn’t the best, but he couldn’t help, Lorenzo was just extremely adorable.

“Mommy! Enzo!” Cecília called, from the opposite side of the bathroom, “come here mommy, miss you too.”

Y/n sat on the bathroom floor, Lorenzo still with her. “Hey, my heart, having a good bath with daddy?” she asked at the same time Harry sat down by her side and hugged her from the side, laying his chin on her head.

“Yeah! Daddy always let me play,” Cecília took one of the yellow ducks and showed her mom, “This is Mc Duck.”

“Wow, he’s a very beautiful duck isn’t he?” She asked, giving Lorenzo to Harry while kneeling near the bathtub since Cecí still had to wash her hair, Y/n gently took the excess of shampoo from the girl’s hair, while Harry tried to keep Lorenzo entertained by singing him a silly song.

“He is, I love yellow,” the little girl admitted, “I think Lorenzo loves yellows too.”

“And why do you think that, Cecí?” Harry asked amused while pretending to eat the boy’s fingers.

“Because we’re are best friends,” She said as if the answer was obvious, “and friends like the same things.” Y/n and Harry looked at each other and laughed, for a five-year-old girl she knew a lot about relationships.

“Oh, how do you know that?” Y/n asked, finishing washing her hair, letting Cecília enjoy her time in the bath.

“Because you and daddy are best friends, you wear the same clothes sometimes, listen to the same music, and watch the same movies,” with every new topic she would count down on her fingers, it was quite a comical sight.

Harry’s chuckle filled the room, the baby on his lap giggled too. “Well, my little lady, you are right. But friends can also like different things, too,” he told her. “Me and mommy like a lot of similar things, but we also have our preferences.”

“Exactly, daddy loves bananas, but I don’t” y/n complemented, getting Cecília out of the tub, helping her into some warm clothes, “I don’t like to work out, but your dad always wakes up early to go for a run, see? We like different things but we still love each other.”

Harry got up from the floor, rocking Lorenzo softly, his heavy eyes indicating how sleepy the baby was. He took the combing cream in his hand and began combing Cecília’s curls with one hand, while his other arm held Lorenzo. Being a father of two made him very talented at doing two things at the same time. While he did that, Y/n was getting Cecí’s toothpaste ready.

“Daddy, do you love mommy even if she doesn’t go running with you?” Cecí asked, before opening her mouth so Y/n could brush her teeth. Normally they would let Cecília do it by herself, with their supervision, but it was already late and the couple desperately needed to get the children to bed, or else their routine would be messed up. Good thing Lorenzo seemed to be falling asleep already.

“Of course I do! We don’t love people just because they do the same things we do, we love people because they are kind and respectful to us, yeah?” Harry said, looking at Y/n and blowing her a kiss. This is what he loved the most about parenthood: watching the kids growing into their best version.

Parenting was made in many different ways, but the couple especially loved having these kinds of conversations. Even though Cecília was still young, she was already beginning to comprehend what love and friendships were, and Harry and Y/n had the privilege to teach her that.

Harry finished her hair, putting the brush and the products in their place under the sink while Y/n put on some socks on Cecí’s feet, the little girl was yawning, seeming tired. Lorenzo started to fussy on Harry’s arms.

“Guess it’s time to sleep, huh?” Harry said, caressing Cecílias head, “Tired, my baby? Want daddy to read a bedtime story to you? Or do you want mommy?” At the same time he mentioned Y/n, Lorenzo started to soft cry. “Hey, what’s wrong?” Harry asked, looking down at the upset’s baby face.”

Y/n took his from Harry’s arms, cuddling him closer to her chest, “What do you want, Enzo? Mommy just fed you” she looked at her husband, “I’ll nurse him again on the bed, he’s probably just a bit agitated, will you put her to sleep?”

“Yeah, of course.”

The woman kissed Cecília on the forehead, “have a good night, ok, baby? Mommy will take you to the playground tomorrow, alright?”

“Ok mommy, I love you and little bro too,” she said, giving a hug to her mom before she disappeared through the door with the crying baby.

Harry took Cecília by her small hand, leading them to her room, just by the side of the main suite, where the couple slept. He guided the little girl to her bed, giving her all of her favorite stuffed animals, and covered Cecília in her Lilac duvet.

“What story do you want today?

“The pirate one, please,” she asked, laying her head on the pillow as Harry went to her bookshelf, picking the one with the title Pirate’s cove. He sat by the end of the bed and began telling the story.

“I have a story for you, a story of untold riches and a young lad who found them. And who am I, you ask? Well, I am the spirit of the sand-dollar, a pirate and a buccaneer, Captain of the seahorse, the finest ship to ever sail the seven seas…”

Harry would occasionally stop to answer any questions Cecília had, but after 15 minutes he was done with the book and the girl was fast asleep, hugging tight to her little lamb. He made sure she was tucked in and turned off the lights (besides the one on the side of Cecília’s bed, she was scared to sleep in a pitch-black room), he closed the door and headed to his bedroom.

To Harry’s surprise, Lorenzo was sleeping in his bassinet by the side of the mattress. He usually would sleep in his nursery, but today just seemed like an off day to the little boy. Harry got closer to him, stroking the chubby cheeks, “Oh my little bug, did mommy let you sleep here with us? You’re not feeling fine?”

“I think he’s teething,” Y/n said in a raspy voice, taking her head from the pillow, “he’s even a bit warmer than usual, I think his gums are itching.”

“My poor baby,” Harry mumbled, turning his head to Y/n, “I hate seeing him upset, maybe we could make some homemade Popsicle, it helped when Cecília was teething.”

“Yeah, we can try that, we can make them tomorrow.” she patted the mattress, “now please come to bed, he did a number on me, I’m so tired.”

“Alright baby,” Harry took off his shirt, standing only in sweatpants, he went to the bed, laying by Y/n side, one arm hooked on her waist as she cuddled to him, placing her head on his shoulder.

“I’m so lucky to have you,” Y/n said against his neck.

“Oh baby, I am the lu--”

“--I mean, how many husbands would still love their wives even if they wouldn’t go jogging at 6 in the morning?” she said teasingly, her giggles reaching his ear.

He rolled his eyes playfully, “you are making a lot of jokes for someone who is tired,” he kissed her temple. “I’m gonna wake you up at 5 am tomorrow, so we can be fitness together.”

“Don’t you dare! You do that and your plan of being a father to three it’s over.”

“Damn sweetheart, that’s not very nice, huh?”

“You’re the one who started,” she said, before closing her eyes, snuggling to Harry’s body. The man placed a hand on her belly, falling asleep minutes later.

Tag list: @sunandherflores @elenagilbert01 @bellelittleoff, @cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson

If you don't want to be in the tag list just let me know, please!! <3

[wlwmarvelenthusiast]

Can u write an au where carol’s cat (goose) keeps sneaking into fem!reader’s apartment and so carol and reader communicate with each other thru notes they put on goose’s collar and they eventually fall in love (((:::::::

Goose's Best Friend

Summary: After a stranger's cat injured in your apartment one night, you decide to attach a short note to its collar to give your apologies. They lead to something you could have never expected.

Pairing: Army Pilot!Carol Danvers x Reader

Warnings: language

Word Count: 2,792

It was the middle of the night, 2:57a.m., to be exact, when a loud crash shook you from the clutches of sleep. You sat up with a groan, rubbing your eyes to clear your vision enough to look at the clock on your nightstand. You swung your legs off the bed, eyes catching the shattered lamp on the ground. Fighting off the temptation to leave it on the ground for tomorrow, for fear that you might forget about it and slam your bare feet into the shards scattered around the floor, you slid your legs into some sweats and stood up.

You weren’t expecting, when you turned on the light, for something to move. When something darted around the corner you actually let out a high-pitched yelp, flying backwards and hitting your elbow hard off the corner of the nightstand. You felt tingling rush into the tips of your fingers as you tried desperately to comprehend what had just happened. Your breathing had already increased, and your heart was racing inside your chest. You took a hesitant step forward.

Despite being alone in the apartment, you flushed beet red in embarrassment when you found the creature you’d been so terrified of. The orange tabby cat stared up at you with wide eyes, letting out a quiet mew. Immediately your heart softened, its beat slowing down to a normal pace. When the cat made to step toward you, though, you immediately noticed the limp. Your eyebrows furrowed and you knelt down, letting it come to you. You reached out for its front leg, and it let you take it into your hand.

“Oh, sweet baby,” you muttered softly, wiping a bit of blood out of its fur with your thumb. “Come on. I think I have a first aid kit in the bathroom.”

It surely didn’t understand what you said, but it followed you when you stood up. It limped into the bathroom behind you, settling once it reached the tile floor. You reached into the cupboard under the sink and pulled out the red case, propping it up on the countertop and opening it up. Quickly, you located the roll of bandages and the scissors that came with it. You pulled it out and got some wet paper towels. Once more you knelt down on the ground next to the tabby.

A black collar around its neck caught your attention. You reached out for the silver tag that hung from it and spoke aloud. “Goose. Well, Goose, there’s no phone number here for your owner. Guess I’ll have to fix you up and trust you can find your own way home, huh?”

He meowed in response.

You continued to wrap up his leg. When you finally finished, you tucked the first aid kit away again. You clicked your tongue a couple times in an attempt to get him to follow you again. The both of you headed toward the kitchen, where you rummaged through the fridge for the leftover chicken from dinner the night before last. You pulled some out and set it in a small dish on the floor, a sort of apology for your lamp having done such damage to the poor animal’s leg. He helped himself quickly. Meanwhile, you dug through one of your drawers.

You popped the cap off a pen and cut a small strip of paper, struggling to keep your writing small enough to fit.

There was no number on the collar, so I opted for this. Goose found his way into my apartment and had an unfortunate mishap. I patched him up and gave him a treat. I hope that’s okay. He should be alright.

Hope he feels better soon.

You rolled the note around the tabby’s collar and taped it in place. He’d finished his treat by now, so you led him back to the apartment door. When you opened it, he cast one glance back at you, eyes shining as if in gratitude, then scurried down the hall. Just as he turned out of sight, though, someone else moved into your peripheral vision. You could have scoffed when you saw who had wandered into the hallway. She spoke before you could close the door.

“Isn’t it past your bedtime?”

“Fuck off, Danvers.”

“Captain Danvers,” she hummed, a wide smirk on her face as she twirled her keys around her finger.

“In your dreams,” you scoffed. “And next time you’re using your stripes to get random women in bed, be a little quieter, would you? Some of us around here have self-respect.”

You closed the door before she could respond to that.

You and Carol Danvers had hated each other for as long as you’d lived there. The two of you were like hot and cold, or night and day. She liked loud music and late nights whereas you liked a nice book and an early night. You were quiet and soft-spoken, and Carol was a bully. In fact, she was your bully. You’d never endured such teasing and taunting from anyone else before. It wasn’t her harsh words that got to you, though. In fact, you weren’t entirely sure what it was that got to you. Maybe it was her arrogance, or maybe it was her ignorance for anyone around her. It didn’t matter.

Carol Danvers brought out a side of yourself that you didn’t know existed. You’d only have to hear a single word fall from her lips or see a glimpse of her from the corner of your eye, and instantly any semblance of a good mood would dissipate and fade into annoyance. The hatred you held for her made your blood boil in your veins at the mere sight of her stupid, cocky smirk. You sometimes wished you could just reach out and slap that stupid smirk off her stupid face.

You pushed the blonde from your mind, heading back to bed. Hopefully, the coming day would be one that didn’t involve the blonde captain.

*

It was three days later that a quiet meow caught your attention. It tore your gaze from the TV, and you glanced toward the source of the sound. The face that was watching you immediately brought a smile to your face. You pat the couch beside you and the tabby jumped up, settling onto the blanket. You ran your hand across his head, watching his eyes close in content. You were about to turn your gaze back to the TV when you noticed the paper around his collar. It wasn’t the same one you put there. You reached out for it and removed it, careful not to rip it, and unrolled it. You flicked on the lamp.

Sorry about him. He wanders around the building. This isn’t the first time he’s gotten into someone’s room. If you fed him, he’ll probably come back to you (which I don’t mind, so long as you don’t mind that he’ll keep coming back). That’s how I know you’ll get this. So, thank you for patching him up. The vet would’ve cost more. You were right. He was just fine.

Rolled up with it was a twenty-dollar bill. You chuckled, immediately standing up off the couch. You pulled a small treat out of the fridge as you passed it, Goose trotting into the kitchen at the sight. You handed it to him and he took it happily, chowing down as you stood up straight again and continuing on your journey toward the notepad on the counter. Once again you ripped a small piece of paper out of it, ripping the cap of the pen off with your teeth and holding it there as you brought the pen down to meet the paper.

It seems so. You were right. He came back. He’s a sweet boy. I truly enjoy his visits. I don’t get many of them, so he’s welcome here whenever he pleases. And I don’t need this. Keep it.

You knelt down on the ground to Goose once again. He sat still for you as you wrapped the bill around his collar, wrapped the note around it, and then taped them both in place. Once more, you led him back to the apartment door, opened it up for him, and let him into the hallway. He rubbed his head against your calf once more before dashing out of sight. You shut the door behind him.

*

You huffed as you stormed into the lobby of the apartment building. Work had not treated you well that day. All you wanted was to head upstairs, put on your coziest pyjamas, order takeout, cuddle into the couch, and watch a movie or two. It was all you needed to wash away the horrible day and ease the stress that was weighing so heavily on your chest. You only wanted to pick up your mail before you did, but apparently, the universe had other ideas.

“Looking for some mail from your mommy?”

Danvers was the last person you wanted to deal with today. You didn't even bother to grumble a response to your neighbour, who was still in uniform as she stepped up beside you and unlocked her own mailbox. You were going to step away without a single word, but once more, you didn’t get your wish. Carol snickered at something, making you slam your box shut with far more force than necessary.

“What, pray tell, is so fucking funny?” You snapped.

“Oh, nothing. Nothing. Nice keychain.”

The keychain was a souvenir one you’d gotten from your trip to Disney with your family a few years ago. It was a picture of you and your brothers all wearing Mickey Mouse ears and sticking your tongues out at the camera. If anyone else had said the words, you would have blushed and thanked them. When Carol said the words, you shoved the keys in your pocket and shot a glare so harsh that it would have killed if it could have.

“You’re a dick, Danvers.”

“Captain Danvers,” she corrected once more.

“Look, this whole army pilot thing might work on those girls you pick up from god knows where, but I’ve met you,” you sneered. “You use this uniform for detestable things, Danvers. It’s disgusting.”

You stormed away.

When you unlocked your door and stepped into your apartment, however, you found that you wouldn’t need pyjamas or takeout or movies to make you feel better. Your new best friend was sitting on your couch as if he had been waiting for you to arrive home. You dropped your bag at the door and moved to sit with him immediately. After stroking his head absentmindedly for a bit, you noticed the new note.

Take it. Please? Come on, you’re going to make Goose sad if you don’t. You’re going to make me sad if you don’t.

Attached with the note, again, was that same twenty-dollar bill. You rolled your eyes as you moved into the kitchen once more, handing Goose a few of the cat treats you’d bought for him. He accepted them happily as, for the third time, you prepared to write a note for Goose’s mystery owner. You didn’t even bother to sit down, hunching over the counter in a way that your back probably wouldn’t have thanked you for. You scribbled on the paper.

I’m sure Goose won’t mind at all. As for you? Well, I don’t really know you, do I? Just keep the damn money, will you? You know, Goose is going to gain a few pounds if you keep sending him back here.

Sincerely, Goose’s new best friend

After a few pats to the head, you sent Goose off with that. He was back later that day.

Goose’s best friend,

Goose does mind. He wants you to keep it. Please? Besides, if we keep attaching it with scotch tape to a wandering cat, it’s going to get lost. You wouldn’t want that, now, would you? I sure wouldn’t. As for the treats, I’ll make sure to walk him a bit more. Wouldn’t want to lose my new favourite pen pal over a couple extra pounds on the cat.

- Goose’s mom

This time, there were two twenties attached. You chuckled at that. Goose was gobbling down his treat as you wrote.

Goose’s mom,

I think that’d be quite a sight to see, you walking Goose down the street. Guess if I ever see Goose leashed and with some random woman on the street, I’ll know what you look like.

- Goose’s best friend

P.S. Just donate the money. Seriously.

As if it were habit by now, you reattached the bills, added your note, and sent the tabby out the door once again. You headed back to what you’d been doing.

It wasn’t long before the next reply.

Goose’s best friend,

Here, I’ll help you build the image. I’m 23, blonde, and about 5’6”. I’m in the army, so I’d probably still be in uniform after work. Oh, and Goose’s leash is blue, and he has a grey harness for walking.

- Goose’s mom

P.S. I split the $40 between the humane society and the local shelter

You once more had to laugh at the stranger. Of course, you immediately moved to respond. As much as you didn’t want to kick Goose out, you wanted her to get your answer as soon as possible. You grabbed your notepad.

Goose’s mom,

You sound cute.

- Goose’s mom’s best friend

It was a short note this time. You were having fun, though, and you wanted to tease your new friend a little. You attached the note to Goose and let him run off.

Once more, Goose returned with a new reply.

Best friend,

You didn’t give me anything in response. I’m offended.

- Goose’s mom’s best friend’s best friend

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the way she’d signed her newest note. A pang of confidence hit your chest. You scribbled on the note.

Goose’s cute mom,

Let’s go for coffee then. 2B. I’m free when you are.

- Girl with a crush

*

You regretted sending that last note. You’d never gone more than 12 hours without communicating with the mystery note sender. You’d grown quite fond of the little pieces of communication you’d exchanged with her. It was actually the highlight of your day, on most days. Since sending that last one, though, you’d yet to hear back from her. It’d been four days now. You were quite upset about it, and decided the best way to fix that was some loud music. Maybe it’d piss Danvers off as much as she pissed you off.

When there was a loud knock on the door, you immediately assumed that you’d sure pissed someone off. Of course, they’d complain about you and not her. Everyone loved Carol fucking Danvers. You wished you could whirl the door open and shout at whoever was on the other side, but knew yourself better than that. You’d probably open it up and apologize, then turn the volume down and wallow in your misery to the sound of softer music.

That is, if it were anyone but Danvers.

“What? Just now realizing how damn annoying it is to hear loud music blaring from the apartment directly below yours?” You rolled your eyes. “Fuck off, Danvers.”

You went to slam the door, but she stuck her hand in. It must’ve been a little harsher than you meant to, because she shook her fingers out when she retracted them. You didn’t apologize, because you didn’t even feel bad. She deserved it after giving you two years of hell having to live in the apartment below her. You’d not have been surprised if one day she invited an elephant into her room just so she could make as much noise in your apartment as possible.

As you were about to make another snarky remark, though, you noticed something. That cocky glint that was usually shining in her brown eyes was missing. She wasn’t even meeting your eyes. Her gaze was cast to the door beside your head, locked to the bronze numbers that were screwed into it. You raised a single eyebrow, waving your hand in front of her face to get her attention. She blinked as if coming out of a trace, looking back to you.

“What do you want, Danvers?” You snapped when she wouldn’t speak.

She didn’t answer. She only held out a small piece of paper. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, but took it from her. The handwriting was one you’d seen so many times.

Goose’s best friend,

Coffee it is. But I’m paying. I still owe you.

- A girl who also has a crush, Carol Danvers

[bobasmall]

I’m Here (Part 2)

A/N: now that final exams are over I can finally get back to finishing all my drafts!! This one was just a quick little drabble I decided to make because i love these two JHEJGJHJ （*´▽｀*）

Konstantin tossed and turned all night—it was only an hour or two after Nikolajs called it a night for all of them since it was way past their bedtime. Konstantin knew he should be asleep, but he just couldn’t—all he could think about was that horrifying Coraline movie and that evil spider lady—the boy shivered by simply thinking of it! He whimpered, gripping his soft cow plushie—peeking from his blanket to the glass windows of their room to see the flash of thunder. He yelped immediately, snatching his blanket further and hiding, letting out a quiet sob whilst he buried his face into his plushie. ‘She’s not real! Nikolajs said she isn’t real!’

Konstantin tried to sleep, his eyes shut as tight as he could but he couldn’t ignore those small sounds—the creaking—those random sounds from neighbours—the clicking of the clock in their room. ‘You hear those all the time it’s okay! It’s normal house stuff—Nikolajs would never lie to you if he said it’s not real it’s not!—‘ Konstantin’s thoughts were cut off when the sound of thunder grew loud enough to penetrate their soundproof walls, Konstantin jolted upright and pushed himself to the head of his bed, his eyes as wide as day, staring at the door while he held the plushie close. “T-Taisiya—Taisiya did you hear that—??” Konstantin whispered, not hearing a single word, almost worrying that maybe that ugly monster got her before he glanced and saw her sprawled on her bed, the blanket absolutely mangled and nearly falling off the bed. She snored loudly in response and shifted, holding her pillow close, Konstantin furrowed his eyebrows—how can she be asleep right now? Doesn’t she know that there’s some kind of monster that’s probably out there??

Konstantin carefully stepped off his bed, flinching as the wood creaked under his weight before he approached Taisiya’s bed. Poking her arm softly as he whispered, “Taisiya—wake up I’m really scared—can I sleep with you??” He asked, feeling Taisiya whine and smack his hand away before continuing to drool, making Konstantin scrunch his face up before looking at her bed. Maybe he could move her and then he’d sleep?? He placed the plushie down, moving Taisiya as best as he could but to no avail, he was simply met with her hitting his arm again or kicking him. “Ugh—fine—I’ll sleep on the floor…” And so he did—curling up on the floor as he closed his eyes, as long as he was near someone it’s okay—right?

It wasn’t. It made things worse. He couldn’t sleep, the floor was too hard and he couldn’t find a comfortable position no matter how he turned—and the moment he opened his eyes he wished he never laid on the floor—the underside of Taisiya’s bed was pitch black. “Hello…?” He whispered, he was sure something was under there—he was sure of it—that’s how it always goes right? He squeezed his plushie, making sure it faced the darkness to scare off the supposed monster. The thunder roared once more, its light flashing slightly into their room and revealing a dark shadow. Konstantin let out gasped and scrambled back as much as he could till he hit the back of his head with the side of his bed, causing him to yelp, thinking it was yet another monster that had approached behind him and soon fell forward to curl himself into a ball, shaking as he did so.

He couldn’t take it anymore—he was so scared—Konstantin whimpered, wiping his tears on his cotton sleeve whilst he reluctantly tried to look around for a place to go. But where? Where would he go? Everything’s so scary and dark—and—and he didn’t want to disturb Taisiya! His eyes fell on the door, his soft hiccups filled the room as he moved his arm away and hugged his toy close. Nikolajs said there wasn’t anything to worry about—he’ll protect him—he can go to Nikolajs when he’s scared, right? But what if he disturbs him? Or gets angry?? No no—Nikolajs would never be angry at him—right? Konstantin glanced at Taisiya once more before getting up and tiptoeing to the door. It’s not like he could sleep with Taisiya anyway—he’d have to sleep on the floor and there was -no- way he would try to do that again.

Konstantin opened the door ever so slightly, he peeked his head through the small gap to see Nikolajs asleep, he laid on his back as usual and faced away from their room. Konstantin let out a shaky breath—he should just go back to sleep in his bed—but he couldn’t, he just couldn’t! It was so scary—and so dark—and Taisiya didn’t help at all. Maybe Nikolajs would? He did promise he would protect him…but he didn’t want to be so annoying. Konstantin slipped through the door, shutting it quietly before going down the railings that were built into the wall. His feet stepped on the cold wood as he started to walk down the path, the occasional thunder sent Konstantin to pick up the pace to reach the stairs. A part of him regretted walking out of the safety of his room, but then again, he didn’t exactly feel safe there either. But as he glanced at his surroundings, he felt that his room would’ve been much safer than this. Konstantin shivered, without being under his thick blankets, he had only his pyjamas to keep him warm from the cold atmosphere. He had let out a shaky breath as his feet began to grow cold, he wished he wore socks when he went out.

He made it to the stairs that led down to Nikolajs’ bedside drawer; Konstantin gripped the railing, flinching at how cold it was before he decided to simply hover his hand over the railings as he made his way down, sometimes halting when Nikolajs would move ever so slightly or yawn and tilt his head to the side. Konstantin would make the mistake of looking to the side and seeing the vast empty darkness that nearly made him run back to his room—or looking down to see how far high up he was. It was terrifying, like straight out of a horror movie, giant figures of dark blobs he couldn’t make out filled the room—a part of him knew it was just the furniture but he couldn’t bring himself to truly believe it. And with the height—he became more and more worried, what if he fell? What if he fell and Nikolajs couldn’t find him because it was so dark? He ended up leaning against the wall after that, cautiously stepping on the stairs and holding his plushie.

After a few more minutes he finally reached the bedside drawer—and he nearly froze in awe at how big everything was. Sure, he’s seen how big everything is but it’s always been a shock to him to see everything practically looking over his height. He felt so minuscule against each object, it reminds him of how truly small he was in this house. He sucked in a deep breath and began to tiptoe around the wooden surface, he was careful around the few objects that littered the place, the half-empty water bottle, and his phone. And then he finally reached the other end of the drawer, the small boy’s eyes trailing up the high side of the bed and swallowing with fear—he could just climb up since the bedside drawer was pressed against Nikolajs’ bed to ensure the twins could just hop on if they needed something—but how could he climb that?

Konstantin was tired and by no means energetic nor strong enough to climb such a feat—and he was holding something! How could he ever get up there?? He would have to call Nikolajs but it meant disturbing him—wouldn’t that disturb him? Can’t he just get on the bed and sleep? Konstantin sniffled as he shifted in place, “Nikolajs…?” He mumbled out, looking up to see if he heard him but to no avail, his brother barely moved an inch. “Nikolajs, it’s me—can—can I please sleep with you tonight—please??” Yet again no answer. Konstantin bit the inside of his cheek and looked back—he could go back to his room but it was such a long way, and it was so scary, he didn’t know if he could face the height alone again, especially with the storm outside. “N-Nikolajs, please? Can I please sleep here tonight??” Konstantin took a step closer, hearing nothing but the sounds from outside. His voice was far too soft, it didn’t help that he didn’t want to yell it out either in fear of disturbing him.

He looked around aimlessly, not knowing what to do before he placed his plushie down and began to pet its head. “I can’t carry you up with me so you’ll have to be here—“ Konstantin mumbled before turning away, facing the large wall of cotton before he gripped the sheets—shakily breathing and began to climb—or well, he -tried- to climb. Every so often he slid back down or his hands were so sweaty he had let go—every single time he fell he felt his body ache, he tried to ask Nikolajs for help before he remembered his brother was fast asleep. This continued for a couple of minutes until finally he began to make some progress, his small feet frantically tried to keep him up as he panted—he was so close this time—just a little more!—Konstantin was incredibly tired, all he wanted to do was sleep but he was glad it would be over after a bit more climbing. He tilted his head up to see Nikolajs’ frame in view, he grew more excited by the minute, trying to pull himself up, letting out a few small grunts and complaints.

The sound of yet another thunder cracking near the house made Konstantin screech, flinching as he did so and let go of the sheets—sending him back down much more roughly than his earlier attempts considering he was much higher up. The boy landed on his back, looking up to see a glimpse of the side of the bed from below once more. His bottom lip quivered as the stinging on his back grew, his hands sore from trying to pull his weight up to climb all that way—his head aching from the impact. Suddenly, his cheeks turned a bright red, and his vision blurred as a sob started to tear through his throat.

And then the tears came through.

Konstantin sobbed loudly, he was angry—he was exhausted— devastated—more importantly, he was so scared. He covered his eyes as the tears began to sting, curling into a ball as he continued to cry as loud as his voice had let him. He was just so so tired, he wanted to sleep—but no! He couldn’t climb the stupid bed like Taisiya! Why? It’s not fair! None of this is fair! “Nikolajs! Nikolajs—“ he cried out in fear, his strings of sobs coming out in desperate hiccups—he could barely hear the bed creak before he felt something wrap around him. Konstantin continued to cry, his eyes blurry as he kicked whatever was around him “No! No, let me go!—Nikolajs, the monster is getting me!—“ Konstantin whimpered as he continued to use what little strength he had to push whatever was around him away as he felt his whole world turn. Before Konstantin could yell once more he felt the familiar pressure on his back, the circular movements silencing Konstantin, who was slowly reduced into a hiccuping mess and he shakily wiped his eyes to see what was happening.

“Shhhh—hey—hey it’s okay, there’s no monster it’s just me-”

“Nikolajs…?”

“Who else would it be?” Nikolajs chuckled, however his amusement was quick to falter once he saw Konstantin’s red, tear-stained face, his hands becoming tenser as he protectively cupped his hands around the small boy. He grew even more worried as Konstantin tried to speak but ended up crying even more. “Oh Konsta…it’s okay, I’m here for you—no one’s getting you…” Nikolajs whispered, he lifted him up to get a closer look, seeing the small boy sobbing his heart out.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I just—I thought—I—I was so scared! I-I know you—she isn’t real but—but I’m scared! I-I don’t want to sleep alone and—and I tried—to—to climb up but I kept falling and—and it hurts and—and—I’m sorry—!!” Konstantin blubbered as he buried his face in his hands, he felt awful—troubling his brother so much and crying so loudly—all because of what? Some monster Nikolajs said wasn’t real? Nikolajs would for sure be angry with him about this now! He shivered at the thought and continued to cry, his eyes grew sore with each moment that passed.

He heard a small tut before feeling a light weight on his head, Nikolajs ruffling his hair gently. “Konsta…you have -nothing- to be sorry for. It’s okay to be scared—there’s nothing wrong with that.” Nikolajs mumbled, sliding Konstantin to his right hand before cupping him against his cheek. Feeling Konstantin hug him back immediately, Nikolajs squeezed him softly, trying his best to soothe him “You wanna sleep here tonight?”

Konstantin nodded quickly, burying his face in Nikolajs’ cheek as he hiccuped “Please—I can’t sleep in our room and I keep hearing those funny noises—and I think a ghost is following me and—and Taisiya snores really loud—“ he pouted, feeling Nikolajs’ cheek move as he heard him laugh.

“Pfff—seriously? I can imagine.” Konstantin giggled quietly, making Nikolajs laugh along with him even more, finding it adorable before he pressed his cheek a bit more against him. “Don’t worry, as long as I’m around, nothing can get to you. You can trust me on that.” Konstantin had let out a shaky breath of relief, he was safe, he was safe from it all. No ghosts could hit him in the head, no monsters could try to scare him anymore—he’d never felt safer before. He buried his face into his cheek as his arms spread out to hug him. He let out a soft thank you, but it grew raspy with each word, causing Konstantin to be thrown into a coughing fit. “Here, have some water—your throat must ache.”

Konstantin whined as Nikolajs pulled away, the boy being further and further away from the hug but soon relaxed when he felt Nikolajs’ fingers curl around him slightly. He watched as Nikolajs struggled to open the water bottle with one hand without spilling it, soon laying the cap down and pouring the water. He heard Nikolajs huff in disappointment when the water decided to initially pour down at the side of the bottle before finally filling the cap a bit. Konstantin tugged on his shirt patiently whilst Nikolajs brought the cap over carefully, placing it in his palm in front of the boy. “Sorry I uh—I don’t have any glasses so you’ll have to drink from this—do you want me to help?”

Konstantin stared at the bottle cap—the last time he tried to drink from it he spilled the entire thing on himself. He didn’t want to sleep in cold wet clothes the whole night, so reluctantly, he nodded. He heard Nikolajs let out a nervous breath and mutter ‘alright-‘ and watched as his fingers picked up the cap. He watched the water begin to tremble and approach Konstantin carefully, the boy gripping the underside of the plastic cap and began to drink, wincing as he felt some of the water begin to pour from the side and drip onto his clothes. After a few seconds, Konstantin had let out a loud whine, telling Nikolajs he was done before he felt the cap pull away carefully. He wiped his face, smearing the water before wiping it on his slightly damp shirt. “Shit—I mean—crap I’m sorry I didn’t mean to—do you want me to bring you back to your room? You can change—“

“No!” Konstantin blurted out, causing Nikolajs to pause, his eyebrows furrowed in concern as he placed the bottle cap back onto the water bottle. Konstantin sniffled slightly, shaking his head and glanced back at his room. “I’ll dry later ‘cause it’s not a lot of water,” he mumbled, he wiped his hands once more on his damp shirt. “And, I-I don’t wanna go back there—it’s too scary. I wanna stay here.” He mumbled, he swore he could hear Nikolajs coo at him before he was lifted yet again, pressed against his cheek to which Konstantin gratefully hugged back.

“Alright, but if you want to change just tell me, it’ll only take a few seconds.” Konstantin nodded, basking in the returning warmth from the hug. “You know, I’m proud of you Konsta.”

“Really??”

“Yeah, really. I mean—you were always scared going out on your own, especially when it’s dark—but you came all the way here, you even tried to climb up the bed. That’s pretty brave of you.” Nikolajs hummed, Konstantin’s cheeks turned a bright red, moving away ever so slightly, and tilted his head back to try and look at Nikolajs.

“I wasn’t alone though! Berry helped me!”

“Did she now?”

“Yeah! She scared away the monsters for a little bit and we walked all the way here together!”

“Well, then both of you are brave then!” Nikolajs cooed softly. “And where is Berry now? Did she fall down the drawer?”

“No, I had to leave her ‘cause I couldn’t carry her with me—she’s next to your phone!”

“Do you want her back?”

Konstantin leaned a little further away and glanced at the cow plushie in Nikolajs’ other hand, pouting to himself as he thought if he needed Berry. “Ummm…no, it’s okay! I don’t need her tonight!”

“Hmm? Are you sure? You don’t need her to scare away the monsters anymore?”

“Mhm! I don’t need her! I have you! You’ll scare away any monster!” Konstantin laughed for a few seconds but stopped when he noticed that Nikolajs fell silent. The boy tilted his head slightly, did he say something wrong? Before he could ask, he felt Nikolajs practically squish him against his cheek, causing him to become slightly confused about the sudden affection—he tried to push away to see what was wrong but he couldn’t budge. Instead, Konstantin simply continued to hug back once more, he tried to match the strength of Nikolajs to return the same hug but alas he was far too small. It was only a few minutes, and it seemed as though Nikolajs didn’t want to pull away. “Nikolajs? Are you okay?”

“Ah—yeah—I’m okay.” He felt Nikolajs mumble, the way his voice thrummed against Konstantin made him giggle. Eventually, Konstantin felt his surroundings move as Nikolajs gently pulled away, giving a soft warning and allowing him to grip on his fingers so as to not fall. Konstantin caught a glimpse of the massive room once more—he was reminded of how dark it was but this time—he didn’t seem to be scared. He was safe—he was safe here—the way Nikolajs fingers closed around Konstantin with such delicacy reminded him that nothing could hurt or scare him anymore. “Sorry, you must be tired—let’s go to sleep now, okay?”

His attention was brought to how the world moved around him as he was brought lower and lower, feeling Nikolajs shake the bed the moment he adjusted himself back to a comfortable position. Konstantin was placed against his chest, laying down on the comfortable cotton surface, the hand that treated him with such care was wrapped around him like a blanket. Konstantin immediately reached over to wrap his arms around Nikolajs’ thumb, treating it as if it were another one of his plushies, in response, Nikolajs’ fingers held him even closer. “Are you comfy? Do you want me to move?”

“No s’okay…“ Konstantin yawned quietly, nuzzling against his thumb, feeling the way Nikolajs’ chest moved beneath him, it reminded him of how Leonid would rock him to sleep on nights like these. It was comforting, the sound of a heart beating against him made him forget as to why he ever came to Nikolajs, forgetting what he was afraid of. Forgetting why he was afraid of Nikolajs in the first place.

He always felt awful for hiding from Nikolajs, for not saying anything when Nikolajs tried to engage in a simple conversation, for trying to avoid him at all costs—he knew Nikolajs tried his best to be kind, and Konstantin truly wanted to face his fears and get along with Nikolajs as much as Taisiya did with him, but he was just so afraid.

Konstantin was always afraid of heights, he’s never had a good experience with being so high—he cried every time he was dragged to the monkey bars and would always whimper whenever Taisiya would try and drag him to the Ferris wheels. So that day when he met Nikolajs, he couldn’t think of any positives—he was just so big—everything was big. He was afraid of not only the idea of falling but the idea of being so…so vulnerable? He guessed that was it. He read so many stories of scary giants, the kids in his school always spoke of frightening stories of their experiences with them—the shaking ground with each step, their loud voices—when he saw Nikolajs and Aleksandrs he figured he would be the same.

But he wasn’t. In fact, ever since he met Nikolajs and Aleksandrs, he saw the stories as mere exaggeration, at least in his case. Both giants didn’t stomp wherever they go, they didn’t shout, and they didn’t seem careless. They gifted him and his family many things, built them a room, played with them—and now Konstantin found himself curled into Nikolajs’ hand. He was held with such gentleness unlike the stories of the giants that other children told, where with a tight grip like the kids said giants always would, Nikolajs held him like a massive blanket.

“Nikolajs…?”

“Hm? What’s up?”

Konstantin closed his eyes and he nuzzled against Nikolajs’ thumb. “Thank you.” He felt the weight on him increase ever so slightly, he looked over to see Nikolajs had placed his other hand on top of Konstantin, a low hum of affection from Nikolajs thrummed against the boy.

“Anytime Konsta,” he felt Nikolajs yawn once more before fidgeting in his place “Now let’s go to sleep, it’s pretty late.”

“‘Kay—night Niko.”

“Mmm—night.”

Konstantin could feel his hands close around him, making sure that there was no chance he would fall off of Nikolajs ever decided to move in his sleep. Konstantin’s shoulder sagged, finally relieved at the thought of no longer having to fear of some monster, whatever was out there couldn’t get him here. Any worries he had earlier on had disappeared the moment Nikolajs hugged him. He felt Nikolajs’ chest begin to vibrate, the sound of soft humming filled the air, the feeling of Nikolajs’ other thumb rubbing his back, slowly lulling Konstantin even more to sleep to the sound of Nikolajs’ heart and a lullaby.

[elles-writing]

Dragon Sickness

Thorin x reader

Based off on 'Imagine Thorin becoming a dragon after getting gold sickness'

A/N: I really enjoyed writing this one, though I'd be able to make it a whole series with how many ideas I got, but here it is as a one shot. You guessed the character, @iwenttomordor !!

I'll probably translate this fic to Czech, if I will be in a mood for it.

Taglist: @guardianofrivendell @anjhope1

Breathe in, breathe out.

All Thorin could see, was darkness. He had no idea where he was, or what happened. The only thing he knew, was that if he was still able to do something, anything, it would mean he was still fully by his senses.

He felt deep growl coming out of the back of his throat. He opened his eyes, but then blinked. There was brightness everywhere, and he had to groan again. Did Fili and Kili forgot to blow the candles, played another stupid prank on him, and he passed out? Or did he fell asleep, while telling them a bedtime story?

Thorin opened his eyes again, when he seen endless piles of gold, and that it was not cadle light, but the shine of gold inside Erebor, and that Fili and Kili were not dwarflings anymore, but adults. They went on the quest with him and joined the Company, and...

Thorin blinked. Why was he alone?

"Fili, Kili!"

He expected to hear echo of his voice, but instead, he heard only deep growl and royar. He quickly looked around, up and down.

Was Smaug still there?

Thorin carefully looked around, but he couldn't see anything, that would remind of the dragon, who entered the Mountain over sixty years ago.

He decided to carefully look around, to see if his nephews and the rest of the Company was alright, without waking up the dragon, if he was still there.

Thorin made a step, when he noticed a reflection, in a huge mirror, in thick gold frame.

It was a dragon, with dark brown, almost deep black body and wings, long and pointy tail, and icy blue eyes. The light created shadows and pools of light, dancing across the texture of the dragon's body, making it seem rough and yet somehow highly gentle, even delicate, as the fire of candles flickered with the beast's every move.

Thorin looked away, and deep royar shook the walls of Erebor.

I need to find my nephews, he thought. Panic started settling in him, as he realized Kili was mortally wounded, and Fili stayed with him.

I belong with my brother.

He also remembered you. You did got wounded, too - you broke your arm, during the escape from Mirkwood. As a human, your body was much more fragile.

Thorin felt like he was losing his mind. He didn't cared for the gold, or the Mountain, anymore.

And with another wall-shaking royar, the dark coloured, blue-eyed dragon flew up, and left the inner part of Lonely Mountain.

Bilbo looked over at Balin.

"Where-where did that dragon came from? I'm sure there was only-only Smaug before," he said in high-pitched voice, he would be embarrassed about on any other occasion. Balin sighed and looked to the direction, of where did the dragon disappeared.

"I do not know, Bilbo. Now we need to find Thorin, and make a plan what to do. We didn't counted there would be two dragons, instead of one."

As Bilbo was trying to process what happened (the hobbit seen a lot of things on the journey, but this was really something he did not count on), Thorin looked over the Laketown. He noticed the people escaping the burning ruines of their houses. Smell of burned wood, skin, hair, mixed with smell of water and something he recognized as human, dwarf, and elves, got into his nose. He felt the soft breeze, and for a second, he thought dragons perhaps aren't that bad. It was calm up there.

Thorin looked over the town, and noticed a small boat. When he realized there was the rest of the members of the Company (and Bard's children), he let out a relieved breath. He felt like a rock fell off of his heart.

As he wanted to yell out "You are alive!", so they would hear him, a powerful royar escaped him.

You looked up, as Fili nudged you.

"What is it, Fi?"

"There is another...dragon," Fili said. You frowned.

"No way, Fili, that's-" you looked up as Kili pointed towards the sky. At the same moment, a powerful royar shook your whole body. You shivered.

"W-what the-" You whispered, and clutched your injured arm.

"It's flying down!" Bofur yelled out.

"We need to get away-" Someone yelled, but it was far too late.

The dragon flew down, and it seemed like it was observing you. It let out occasional growls, along with watching you by it's huge blue eyes.

He looks like Thorin, you thought. There was the panic, that others gave you, but deep down, you were not afraid.

The creature tilted it's huge head, and it was as if it's eyes saddened. You got up and walked to the front of the boat, so you'd be closer to it. Bofur turned to you.

"I don't think that's a wise idea, lass-" The dragon let out a huff, and you softly pushed Bofur behind you.

"What are you doing here? Where did you came from?" You carefully said. The dragon growled out something, but then turned to Lonely Mountain. You guessed it probably was the direction, where did it came from.

"Are you going to...hurt us?" You whispered. The dragon shook it's head, firmly.

"Alright, um...why are you here?" The dragon's eyes gave you a little stern, but mostly relieved and flustrated look, and then they shifted to Fili and Kili.

"Thorin would be worried about them too," you though aloud, before you could stop it. The dragon huffed, and let out a groan, but his eyes seemed to light up.

"Thorin?" The dragon nodded his head. You looked back, to see if it was truth. There was no way this would be happening.

Kili was pale, as well as Fili. Tilda and Sigrid were eyeing the dragon - Thorin, and the rest of the Company seemed like they were about to faint.

Well, not really. They seemed to be just paler than usual. A lot paler.

"Thorin, you are-you are a dragon...but how?" You stared at him. He looked around, until he pointed towards simple golden necklace he gave you as a courting gift.

"Gold...D-do you mean the...the sickness?" You looked up.

Thorin simply nodded.

When you got safely to Erebor, you noticed the rest of the Company rushing towards you.

"Thank Mahal, you are alive!" Someone said.

"Did you see the dragon?" You nodded.

"Well, yeah. He's not dangerous." You replied in firm voice.

"Lassie, every dragon is dangerous," Balin said, as Oin looked over your injury again.

"This one is not, because...well, the 'dragon sickness'," you quoted,

"The dragon sickness is not really about obsession over gold. It transforms that person into a dragon, who is obsessed with gold," you said, as you looked over your shoulder. You wasn't sure where exactly Thorin was, at the moment.

"I understand, but why would you say that, lassie? We still haven't found Thorin yet," Dwalin looked at you. Before you could answer, small epcheeew made an echo in the hall, and a piece of the wall was covered with frost. You giggled.

"How did you do that?" Thorin dig his eyes into you, as if saying 'Don't ask, please,', and jumped up on your shoulder.

"Well, he found us." You muttered. Everyone stared at the dragon-Thorin in silence for a while.

As the evening approached and most of the Company went to sleep, Thorin, in his regular size, you guessed, was carefully walking on the piles of gold, and you just sat there. You sat there, because you could not sleep, and so that Thorin would not be lonely.

You watched Thorin, as he was walking around the room, in the endless river of gold.

"You know, maybe it's better you still have clear mind, Thorin," you said. Thorin turned to you and set his gaze on you, as if asked you to continue. And so, you did.

"I won't lie, I do not know how to break this...spell, or whatever it is," you said, and Thorin looked away, huffing.

"But at least you are alive, and have clear mind," He looked back at you, and his eyes seemed to soften a little. You got up.

"Well, look, if you'd like to...I got an idea," you offered. Thorin curiously looked at you.

"We could go out, neither of us can sleep anyways," Y/N said, and Thorin looked around.

"Well, you can change into the...more petite form," you said. Thorin huffed out.

I'm not a bird or a cat.

Y/N blinked. Did she just heard Thorin's voice in her head?

It was probably nothing.

"Let's get outside."

As they seated outside, on the top of the Mountain, her eyes were set on the starry sky.

Thorin's eyes slid over the starry sky, then down at Y/N. The breeze brushed her hair in a gentle, delicate motion.

He was glad he has Y/N as his One.

He suddenly felt the urge to fly, which he tried to deny, but then he flew up, and took Y/N with him.

You couldn't even scream at first, but then you felt as if you were falling down - when all of sudden, you fell on something firm, but warm.

You opened your eyes, slowly at first, but then you realized what happened.

Slowly, you looked over the edge of Thorin's dragon body, and your eyes widened.

You flew high, and though you couldn't see a lot, due to the darkness, you recognized some lights. But the real beauty started, when you looked up.

The stars seemed to be close, as if you would just reach up your arm, you would be able to touch them.

The clouds felt soft, but cold and wet. You closed your eyes, and let that feeling to go through your whole body, as Thorin flew through one of the clouds.

When you opened your eyes, you realized the clouds moved away, and so the moon was illuminating the landscape underneath you. You looked down, and watched the scenery in awe.

You had no idea how much time has passed, but honestly, you didn't cared. You felt safe with Thorin, even if he was locked up in the body of dragon.

When the sun started raising, Thorin flew down to the top of the Mountain again. You could barely keep your eyes open.

That was amazing, you thought. You felt like you heard Thorin's soft chuckle in your head.

Indeed, Amrâlime.

Y/N didn't had much time to think about it, before she fell asleep with the sounds of birds' song, lullying her and sending her to the land of dreams.

When she woken up, she realized one thing: warmth. Y/N looked around, and realized that the warmth was coming from Thorin's body, who was protectively lying around her, inside of some room. He seemed to be soundly asleep.

As she moved, a huff escaped Thorin, and Y/N quickly looked back, to see what happened.

You woke me, she heard in her head.

Sorry, I just need to go to-

Before you could finish your thought, he let you go. You felt the shivers running down your body. Well, it's a mountain. It's not like it would be exactly warm here.

When you came back, you sat down, across Thorin, and he set his eyes on you. You started thinking about what was happening.

You can hear me, you thought, and he nodded.

So I, he replied.

But neither of us could do that before, right? You furrowed your brows, and Thorin shook his head.

Is this is permanent? You thought quicker than you could stop it. Thorin's gaze coldened and hardened, and you could feel the confusion, disgust, hurt and sadness.

I'm sorry Thorin, I-

Keep your words.

No, Thorin, listen to me, I'm sorry, it's just- You quickly jumped up, but he was on his way out.

Who from dwarves would want their king to be a dragon? He snapped. At this point, you runned behind him, trying to stop him from flying away.

"THORIN NO, COME BACK-" you yelled out, but it was far too late. Thorin was quickly disappearing on the horizone, and you cried out.

The dragons in Middle-Earth never had a good reputation. You knew someone would try to hurt him, or kill him, eventually.

You sank down on your knees, and started sobbing.

You felt his pain as your own, and he felt yours.

Who from the dwarves would want their king to be a dragon? Thorin thought, as he flew up on the sky. He knew he was right. He felt shame. He was a Durin. But now, he was a dragon, one of the creatures he hated.

You are not the dragon, Thorin. You are good. You are still Thorin we all know.

He let out a royar. He was in this body of a dragon, and he hated every second of it, and he hated himself.

You looked over the tent, and sipped on your tea. It felt wrong and weird, but you didn't exactly complained either.

Thranduil and Bard discussed something, and you wished Thorin would be there with you.

They aren't that bad, Thorin. Nothing.

You told me that Erebor is going to be pulsing with life, again. I know you hate the body you are locked in right now, but we will find a way to turn you into dwarf form again, Thorin. Please, return here.

No answer. Just silence.

You sighed. You felt Thorin was alive - you just knew, so you were not so worried, but still. Bilbo placed his hand on your shoulder.

"He will come back, I'm sure of it. You know Thorin," he muttered, and you nodded. Thorin was really stubborn, even for a dwarf, and once he thought of something, there was almost no chance in convincing him otherwise.

The rest of Company woke up as they heard your screaming. They found you, and took inside of the Mountain, to give you blankets and tea. Then Bilbo came, that Gandalf was there, to warn you about another dragon. You talked for a while, and eventually, you told him what happened to Thorin, and you needed a medication, but he flew away, and since then, he didn't came back.

Bard and Thranduil weren't really fond of Thorin, but because it was you, who was Thorin's One (and Thorin was the rightful king of Erebor, though Thranduil, especially, didn't liked that idea much), they decided to help to you find a way to heal Thorin's sickness.

"I think Smaug got mad, and the sickness consumed him entirely. Thorin actually had clear mind, it's just...his body changed," you muttered. Even Radagast was there.

"Well, maybe...maybe it's not really a sickness," someone piped up. You looked around.

Who said that? You thought.

"Maybe-maybe it's just a spell!" Radagast said and looked excitely around.

"You have a bond between you two," Radagast told you, and you nodded.

"Are you suggesting, that the spell could be broken by...something?" Bilbo looked around for someone to help him finish up his question.

"Well, Thorin is not answering me, but he is alive, somewhere. I think he maybe...he thinks the dwarves wouldn't accept their king, even if he is in the body of a dragon," you said.

"Orcs! Orcs are everywhere!" Elvish soldier runned inside the tent.

"How many?" Thranduil's gaze hardened.

"A lot of them, I've never seen more in my whole life," The soldier answered.

"Azog," you whispered. You realized what that could mean - Azog came here for Thorin.

"We all need to fight together, there is no point nor time for arguing," Gandalf said, and you got up.

"No, you will stay here, lassie. If he finds out Thorin is not there, you will be right next," Bard said. You frowned.

"I won't run from a fight." You gazed at him, but he was out already, along with most of others, to prepare for the battle.

I won't risk anyone I love to be killed, you thought, and went to find some armour.

Thorin felt all those emotions going on - worry, fear, anger, loyalty, and more worry. Something in him was pushing him, to come back, to go back to you. He felt the danger, and that convinced him, without any other thoughts, he needs to protect you, and his kin.

Durin's folk does not flee from fight.

When he heard the sounds of a battle, he tried to find you. He couldn't hear your thoughts anymore - nor fell the feelings you felt. Only soft waves of emotions.

Is this the end of you, or him, when he could not hear your thoughts anymore?

He hoped not.

It didn't took long, when something inside him made him to look into one place. He noticed Azog, and someone he realized was you, though he had no idea how did he knew that.

He flew lower, and lower, until the only thing he heard was the blood in his ears, the royar he let out, and the royar of his biggest enemy.

Thorin fell to the ground on all fours. It felt as if the battle stopped. As if the time stopped, whe whole world paused. He looked up at you, kneeling down and covering your head.

You looked up, as you heard the royar. Thorin! You thought. You felt relief he was okay, and alive.

"Don't shoot!" You heard Thranduil to yell out to his soldiers when they spot Thorin, and you felt thankful to the Elven King.

Azog thought you were Thorin, until the helmet fell down, and disgusting smirk made it's way over his face. You losed strength, you were tired, and wounded - he managed to make you some cuts, over your shoulders and cheek, and you guessed one your arm was not fully okay. He prepared to kill you, but the royar was coming closer, along with the huge shadow. You covered your head and ears and fell on your knees, to protect your body.

The royar Azog let out shook you, but when you heard the silence after, you felt relieved.

The huff close to you made you feel lot safer. You looked up, and you knew your face light up.

"Thorin," you whispered and cried out. You stood up and hugged him.

"Don't go away like this, ever," you whispered, as tears rolled down your cheeks. Then, you felt some movement, but the warmth was still the same, and you thought Thorin was just moving around.

"I won't ever leave your side again, I promise, my One," His smooth voice made way to your ear, and then, you felt his lips pressed against yours. You ran your hands across his back, and felt the tunic he had on, just as he changed into the dragon form.

He rested one of his palms on your cheek, and when you parted, he rested his forehead against yours, while gazing deeply into your eyes by his deep blue orbs.

"Thank you for coming back," you whispered.

"I would never let anyone hurt you," he muttered, and pulled you back for another kiss, as the soft snowflakes danced in your hair, with the breeze.

[gojology]

Fireworks.

the request :

pairing : not technically a pairing.. but lets just say gojo x female reader warnings : angst and cursing, no editing. wordcount : 2561 a/n : this physically hurt me to write thanks anon. aha all jokes aside i’m so sorry for not making this quick enough, i finally got enough time to finish it and it’s not even that good :( thank u SO much for ur kind words omg u got me feelin like <333333333

       You stare at him, and he stares back, you’re sure he’s unblinking behind those shades of his.         You knew what would happen after this confrontation, after all, you were the one who had asked him to meet you here. It’s a small, calm park. The atmosphere is still, and the shrill sounds of cicadas are the only thing penetrating the deafening silence between the two of you.          “Hey.” he finally speaks up, sounding a bit too impatient for your liking. You flinch a little, and your fist tightens. It was like he never learned how to introduce himself politely.         You take a deep breath in and exhale, your breath comes out in clouds of smoke. You remember when Shoko had given you those cigarettes one day and Gojo slapped it out of your slack hands, Geto and Gojo laughing at your flushed face, your heart twists.          Truth be told, you didn’t even know why you were thinking the world was ending- it wasn’t. Breaking up with your fellow peer was awkward to say the least, but there were only 4 of you in the jujutsu class, yourself included. It would be undeniably dreadful to see his lanky figure dotting around the back of the class with Geto, and to have to work with him for everything else.          “Hey.” you reply, your words dripping with venom.         “C’mon, cut to the chase.” he waved his hand a few times in the air as a dismissal of the conversation, a half eaten lollipop dangling dangerously from those limp long fingers. It makes you hate him even harder. Couldn’t he read the room?     “I don’t have time for chit-chat, you know?! The strongest needs some rest. I’m human like the rest of us! Sheesh, Jujutsu is so demanding....”      “We need to break up.” is all that slips from your lips, and even you’re shocked it came out that carelessly. You wanted to stop resisting, to stop holding back and let loose the long river of hatred and misery you had for this man- no, a boy, he was a boy.      A strong wind blows against your warm face, and the lollipop drops onto the grass without another word.        Gojo gapes at you dumbly, and in return you look down to study that glistening in the moonlight lollipop, it’s pink and ants are already crawling on their new found prey. Your shoes are slightly dirty, and you could see-        “Are you serious?” he scoffed as if it was a joke. It’s not, and you hate being taken like a joke. You weren’t, and that’s all Gojo Satoru did- take everything as a joke, everything was childs play to him. You were looking for a serious relationship, and him? He was looking for sex and quick make out sessions.        “Wait- you’re not joking?” he laughs again, but it trails off, you doubt it actually affected him.        “Of course I’m not joking. Why would I joke about shit like this?” you spat back.        You didn’t care about his feelings right now. You deserved some sort of medal for dealing with him, any sort of compensation really. it seemed to you like the relationship didn’t quite matter for whatever reason. If he wanted to be fuckbuddies he could’ve just said so-       But you still can’t wrap your head around why he kept you, he didn’t throw you away, and you falter. You wanted to be his girlfriend in some ways, in others you wanted to punch him in the face with as much cursed energy as possible.        Gojo takes his glasses off, slipping them into his jacket’s pocket. It seems like he doesn’t want to talk, but you press on.        “I’m fucking tired, Satoru. You treat me like bullshit. I’m not your-” you take a short breather, tears beginning to dawn at the corner of your eyes. “I’m not your fucking doll. And I never, ever WILL BE. I’ve hung onto this stupid fucking relationship long enough and the amount of dedication you poured into this isn’t enough. I deserve better.”        Shit. You hated rambling like that. Scratch that, you hated confrontations as a whole, this would be sure to take a toll on you later.       Turning your back on him, you allow those tears to finally fall. Tears that had been shut in long enough had finally seen the light of day. You wipe the trails away with the already wet sleeve of your hoodie, a large trembling frown adorned your features.        You can’t hide your sniffling even if you tried, and before you know it you can’t even prevent the floodgates from bursting. The tears seeped into the dirt, creating some sort of rhythm as they fell from your cheeks.       “Hey-” he places those hands on your shoulder that made your knees go weak, it’s gentle, and he slightly caresses you. It’s strangely intimate for the situation you found yourself in, but you’re still mortified. Why did you enjoy his touch?        It feels like you’re in this position for ages, his hands on your shoulder, your back facing him. Somehow, someway, you can taste salty tears and you didn’t remember drinking any, for a split second you feel disgusted, at you, at him, at the world.      A small noise leaves your throat.      “It’s okay.” he finally spoke, was that a hint of sorrow? Never mind that, he was actually taking this seriously. What a turn of events.      He took it better then you certainly thought, especially since this would be a definite blow to his big ego. You turn to face him, maybe as an act of superiority, hell like you knew.       Peculiarly, there are tears in his eyes as well. Crocodile tears, probably. He’s most likely trying to guilt trip you- hah, like you’d fall for that. You knew better.      “It’s okay.” he repeated again, brushing those tears away with his roughed up thumb, you’re mortified. Why were you allowing him to touch you?      A calm silence settles between the two of you, but shortly after you hear the rustling of cloth.       Gojo’s taking his jacket off?       About to speak, your mouth snaps shut as he placed the impossibly large jacket around your body, small compared to his. Instinctively, you allow it, but your mind is cursing you for not lashing out on him- why did he still care about you, anyways?     Gojo takes a step back, and you realize you’re now wearing his jacket. His gaze directed at yours, eyelashes fluttering. Your lips are tingling, and for some unbeknownst reason you wonder how a kiss would feel right now.      A part of you still wanted the relationship.      “Take care.”      And with that, he twirled around with a hint of flair, hands shoved deep into his jeans pockets; wind howling against your ears as he did so. He was finally leaving you, but that wasn’t what you envisioned, you wanted to leave him- not him leave you.      You watched him stroll off, heading to where ever he came from.     That was how your first, and last relationship ended.  ‧₊˚✩彡.     The thought of this abandoned relationship nestled at the back of your head, and it had been for several years. It was like it happened yesterday.      His glasses still resided on your nightstand, sitting on the same spot that you had hastily dropped it on all those years ago, gathering dust quickly as you couldn’t quite look at it.       Gojo’s jacket was at the very back of your closet, and you’d advert your gaze to somewhere else- anywhere else, whenever you saw the wretched pitch-black sleeves that were twice the size of your arms.       You had taken a rather looked down upon jujutsu path, one that you knew only one other person had done before you. Nanami Kento was his name, from what you remembered. Sure, you still kept in touch with Shoko, but that was about it.       Today was one of those days, Shoko would invite you to some sort of establishment to eat, perhaps make small talk about what had been happening in your life, and that was that. Admittedly, you missed that childish relationship with her so badly- but you could never tell her about that.       Japan at night was always a treat though, that was certainly a fact.      Perhaps Shoko was thinking about other things when she took you to the Japanese night market, though you didn’t blame her- after all the fireworks festival was today, if you remembered correctly. Stalls filled with games and cheap street-snacks wafted about in the air, sweet tangy sauce, noodles, your stomach grumbled as you thought about taking a bite on the horribly unhealthy junk food.       “Here, Y/N. I’ve heard this takoyaki is really good.” You and Shoko had finally found an empty bench to sit at, and for some reason the muddy green color painted onto the wooden bench made your stomach lurch- it was the same shade that you saw nearby when breaking up with Gojo.     Shoko gives you this lukewarm yet kind smile, enough for you to give her a small grin to her in return, and you take the still hot container out of her gentle hands.       You plop the doughy deliciousness into your salivating mouth, and immediately you’re giddy. Savoring the taste of the thick brown sauce coating your pallet. You had to admit, Shoko, Geto, and... Gojo had amazing taste in food. Your tastebuds had instantaneously dulled as soon as you parted ways with the trio.      “Shoko-” you mumble, your mouth still stuffed, you cover your mouth and try to lower the sound of your chewing. “This is really good! How much was it?”        Shoko’s eyebrow quirks, and she leans in closer to you, “What was that?”        About to repeat yourself, you drink in the scene around you first. Cheerful children roaming the streets; too past their bedtime. Angsty teenagers and the many lanterns strung highly above everyone’s heads, how bright everything was.       Then you see it.       Someone large, atleast, significantly larger as opposed to the general crowd bustling in the streets. You couldn’t be mistaken, he had the same wild white hair- except it’s gelled up into spikes. He’s wearing a mauve darkish-purple uniform, it seems, a cute shopping bag swinging side by side as he took long strides. One thing you had to note was a blindfold, though.       Gojo’s not wearing those classic shades that was practically his signature.       You peer over at Shoko, who’s now frantically waving at Gojo, humming, his chin tipped towards the clear canvas of a sky, dotted with many white stars. He seems livelier somehow, an aura of friendliness radiating instead of arrogance, and you drop your takoyaki in suit.       He notices you.      And then he notices Shoko.       “...’Scuse me. Comin through.” he maneuvered himself through the already annoyed crowd, muttering quick polite apologies before finally freeing himself from the tight bundle of people. A large toothy grin is displayed for the world to see on his face, you feel like you’re about to vomit everything you had eaten today.       Your eyes scan the bag he’s holding, it contrasted heavily from the dark color scheme of whatever he was clad in; pastel yellow with a cute light green mascot chewing happily on mochi. In bubble letters above it were the words, “It’s a good day for yummy food.”      “Shoko!” he exclaims joyously, giving her a quick hug. “Hey, haven’t seen you in a while outside of work.”       Then, Gojo glances at you, atleast that’s what you assume he’s doing, the blindfold was really confusing you. He politely smiled, not as big as the one that he gave Shoko, though.        “Long time no see, Y/N.”        You clear your throat and nod in agreement. “You too.”        Polite chatter between the two of them ensued, and you steadily got more bored as the time went on, checking your phone and stealing quick stares at the two of them. You want to comment, to be included, but you doubt anyone really cared for you right now.        “...How are you?” you say bluntly, blinded by boredom, and immediately you regret it.       Shoko chuckles awkwardly, looking at you with those tired eyes of hers. “Was that for me or Gojo?”        Fuck it, if you were gonna go out, you might as well do it now.        “Gojo.”        “Shit. Putting me in the spotlight like this?” he stands back up from leaning down to talk to Shoko eye-to-eye, now turning to look at you, pausing.       “You’re even more straightforward then I remember, and I thought that was impossible.”        “Yeah.” you finally say after too many seconds of silence. It seemed like he was hinting at something. “I guess we just grow as people, even though I thought that was basically impossible for you.” you cheekily retort back, crossing your arms over your chest with a smug smirk now proudly playing at your lips.        “AND you got sassier? Never quite grew outta the brat phase.” taking a seat between the empty space between the two of you with a huff, his right leg placed above the knee of his left, his thumb plays with the hem of his blindfold, pulling it just a bit so that you could see his snow white eyelashes, alongside with a singular eye.     It’s like time stops as soon as you see them, and it’s like Shoko isn’t closely surveying the two of you, obviously perplexed with this sudden increase of the intensity of conversation.        You see a split second of something flickering in those eyes of his, you’re not quite sure what it could quite be.. Vulnerability?         “Can’t believe my eyes.” pulling his blindfold back down. They’re still as breathtaking as you had imagined them to be. He shrugged, leaning back into the bench casually.      For a while, the three of you just watch the stall directly in front of you- it’s a goldfish stall. Gojo had gotten you one when the two of you were still dating.         Shit. Why weren’t you over such a silly relationship? It wasn’t like you still had feelings for him, but there was still this emotion you couldn’t shake off. It clung onto you like a leech.         “It’s been so long since we’ve relaxed with each other like this.” Shoko mused aloud, turning to look at the two of you. The words are so faint, you’re barely able to hear her subtle voice.        At this point, colorful fireworks started bursting into the air- every shade of color could be seen. Vibrant greens, blues, reds, a loud crackling is all the ear can hear, aside from the loud cheering of over joyous children. Both of you are unanswering.       Vaguely, you remember the first time you saw the fireworks. Lo and behold, you remember wisps of Gojo’s white hair that you twisted and played with, your legs wrapped around his head. You felt on top of the world. Now, you found yourself at the bottom of it.         There’s a grateful, albeit, sad smile on your face. It wasn’t like it was all sunshine and rainbows for you, no. You felt bitter. Hatred, even, that Gojo matured without you.        “Yeah. I miss this.” you say through gritted teeth.         If you were to be honest, you did miss them. Geto, Shoko, Gojo, running around pelting each other with scrunched up paper.       Not just Gojo.        But you guess he’s a big factor as well.       

[boldlyvoid]

Amoreena | Chapter fifteen

Chapter 15: stand-alone honeymoon smut**

Chapter Summary/Warnings: spencer's overwhelmed from the day, so is y/n but it's their honeymoon after all... going speechless from anxiety, dom reader vibes, sub spencer, oral (female receiving), dirty talk, daddy kink, breeding kink if you squint, gentle sex, then rough sex, it's a wild ride y'all

word count: 1.5k

from the beginning <3

They’re laying on a blanket as they look up at the stars, silently. His thumb gliding over her hand as he holds it, he’s had such a long and eventful day that he doesn’t know how to speak anymore. They’ve just been cuddling outside and eating homemade pizza in complete silence and a part of Spencer feels like an asshole for not talking to her, but it doesn’t look like she wants to talk to him either.

She’s perfectly content with just being close to him.

She rolls onto her side, hand still in his as she looks at him softly, “bedtime?”

“Sleep?” He raises his eyebrows and she knows what he means.

“both,” she smiles.

It’s so simple with her that he knows it's true love.

They sneak back inside quietly, it’s a little after 1 now and not a creature was stirring, not even the cats. They tiptoed down the hall towards their room, closing the door softly before flicking the light on.

She tugs her sweater over her head, tossing it to the floor before kicking her sweatpants off and sliding into the bed. Spencer copies her movements, turning off the lights before settling in beside her. It’s pitch black in the room at first, but then as their eyes adjust; the moon is at the perfect height that it shines through the window behind them, illuminating his bride.

“Are we going to talk and cry before or after we have sex?” She teases him as she turns to face him, “we cried before the first time, after the second and after the third, and I think I rather cry beforehand this time.”

He finally laughs, he’s so tired and in love, he’s no longer stressed or worried. He just loves her, she’s so incredibly perfect he doesn’t know what to say, “I don’t want to talk, I just want to love you.”

She laughs as the tears slip out of her eyes, “sorry, it’s been such a long day, I feel like it’s been 3 back to back.”

“I do too,” he agrees, both of them on their sides as they snuggle in closer and closer until their chests are pressed together and their legs are tangled.

She kisses him gently, “I had a wonderful day. I married you, we met Taylor fucking Swift, I flew in an airplane for the first time ever! The food was amazing and we brought home another little girl to love forever. What else could I ever need?”

He kisses the side of her mouth as she’s speaking, and then her chin and all the way down her neck until she’s rolling onto her back and pulling him on top for more, “making it even better I see,” she teases him, letting him stay silent if that’s what he needs.

She made him so incredibly calm, taking control of the situation, like always. She runs her fingers through his hair as he makes his way down her stomach and the kisses don’t stop. He’s showing her just how much he truly loves every inch of her.

It’s when he slips her underwear off and starts to eat her out that she’s talking to him once more, “daddy sure does like it down there, doesn’t he?”

He nods with his tongue still flat against her clit, making her gasp at the feeling, “what’s your favourite part?”

He slides his tongue right inside of her as she tightens around it with a quick gasp before regaining her composure, “hmm, I don’t think I know what you mean?” She’s egging him on, trying to get him to fuck her tonight.

One of his hands is still resting on her hip, she takes it and brings it to her mouth. Sucking on two of his fingers before returning his hand to him and he knows exactly what to do. Starting with one finger, he resumes the same movements on her clit with his tongue while he pumps in and out of her.

He knows she wants more when she starts tugging on his hair, voiceless to stay quiet as they fucked in someone else’s home… his mind travels and he’s supposed to be eating her out, he snaps back into it, adding a second finger.

It’s lazy and slow and they’re both tired anyway but he loves it like this, and so does she for that matter. It’s nicer; there’s no haste, there’s no pressure or time limit, they have forever to make love like this and so they were going to take every second they got together.

“Come back up here, cutie,” she whispers, waiting patiently as he trails the kisses back up her chest on his way to her lips. “Are you going to talk to me at all tonight, pretty boy? It’s okay if you don’t, I just miss your voice.”

He shakes his head, “I don’t know what to say. I love you so much, words just don't do it justice anymore.”

“That’s okay,” she smiles, holding his face gently before brushing his hair back, “how long are we letting this get, by the way, because it is very ticklish when you’re on top, and I’m too tired to do it.”

He kisses the palm of her hand as she holds his face, and then her wrist where a hair tie rests for when Amoreena complained about her own hair being in her eyes, and she knows what he means. She puts his hair in the cutest little ponytail and he can tell just how he must look by the way her eyes light up under the moon.

She finds him adorable even in moments like this, “that’s better.”

“Do you still want to?” He asks, not minding if she’s too tired, he could use the rest instead.

“First you have to tell me why that’s your favourite part of me,” she teases, pointing between their bodies.

“It’s not what you’d think,” he whispers his response with a tilted head, resting right in her palm as she continues to hold him. “I wouldn’t have you if it wasn’t for Amoreena, and you made her in there. It’s the most magical place in the world to me, your body did that, it’s so incredible."

Something in her comes alive then, she’s more awake than she has been all day as she’s pulling him into a heated kiss and pressing him closer to her. He reaches between them and lines up with her, but it’s her who finally guides him inside.

“I wish we got a chance to make her together,” she whispers. “How would we have made her Spencer?”

“This is how,” it’s more of a growl than a whisper, he’s not even sure where it comes from but she loves it.

It’s passionate, that’s one way to describe it. He’s thrusting into her at such a rhythm and force that she’s gasping at each new depth he reaches. Her head tossed back, arms resting on the bed as she lays in her most blissed-out trance, he takes it upon himself to rub her clit gently with his thumb, helping her orgasm bubble even more.

And like an un-watched pot, she’s writhing for release in the sheets as he’s about to finish, holding off as long as she could but so close to bubbling over. She’s so tight, and she’s so beautiful and he’s so in love with her. He’s gripping her hips then and angling her hips up more before fucking her again, the sheets flying off them as they grow more and more desperate.

“Holy fuck, right there,” she whispers, but he knows she rather be screaming as he carelessly rubs her clit with the pads of his 3 fingers, and fucks her at the same time.

She’s grabbing a pillow then, tossing it over her face to moan louder than she expected before she’s cumming with a violent quake, the tension in her body releasing while simultaneously sucking him in further.

He still inside her, pushing in as deep as possible as he finishes in long hot spurts and a grunt as he presses his lips together in an attempt to be silent before dropping to her chest.

Her arms are around his back and she’s pressing the smallest kisses to his hair as they calm down. Then she’s twirling his little ponytail in her fingers and laughing, for the first time in a long time, they’re both laughing after sex.

It's the delirium of 3 in the morning approaches, they’ve both almost been up for 24 hours. He hasn’t been this tired since his last case, Y/N probably hasn’t either since Amoreena was a baby.

He gets up to clean up for her, she’s way too tired to do anything at this point. She’s actually completely asleep when he returns with a few baby wipes to clean her up. She doesn’t budge, out cold as he makes sure she’s okay. He carefully slides her underwear back up her legs and over her modesty.

When he’s finally settling against her, he’s wide awake again. He just lays on the pillow then, staring at her sleeping face with a smile on his own, that’s his wife. His. Wife. She was stunning, kind, impeccably understanding, shy but outgoing, talented beyond belief, the softest woman in the world. The best mother that has ever walked this earth.

And she picked him for the forever and always part of her life.

tag list: @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @samuel-de-champagne-problems @jswessie187

@k-k0129

[aliasimagines]

One Hell of a Night // Luke Patterson

a/n: HAPPY HALLOWEEN Y'ALL, it officially passed midnight here.Are you guys going to celebrate Halloween at home? And if so are you going to dress up? Tell me all about it lovelies, I wanna hear it ❤️. prompt 18 nad 15 from this list🎃 this fic is chaotic, hope you enjoy😊

word count: 2692

warnings: a few (three i think?) curse words, and a..uhm a line of dirty talking (I'm sorry I'm not like this all the time I promise 😅) and scary stories

The dry, colorful autumn leaves creaked under hiking boots as you walked into the woods. A smile appeared on your face as you heard some noises. Only a few seconds later you spotted the source. The Sunset Curve. The boys worked on getting the campfire lit while joking and laughing loudly. You stopped by a tree and leaned against it. Alex just hit Reggie on the back for just sitting around and not helping with putting logs and dry leaves on the fireplace. Thanks to Alex, Reggie swallowed the huge marshmello he had in his mouth and started coughing. 

Bobby was trying to light his lighter again and again but it just didn't work. That's when Luke threw a pack of matches at him causing the rhythm guitarist to stumble back and fall into a pile of leaves. You started laughing quietly and walked up to them.

"That wasn't nice of you, babe." you said from behind Luke. He jumped, not noticing you creeping up on him.

"BAH! I almost got a heart attack, y/n!" he shouts pouting. You giggled and placed a small kiss on his cheek. 

"That's what you get for not waiting for me." you smirk. Luke looks down embarrassed and goes to scrape the back of his head. 

"Yeah…Sorry about that. I was too eager to set up the camp." he gestured at the two tents. Both were full of blankets and pillows. It looked super comfortable. You also spotted his acoustic guitar, and a whole bunch of food in you guys' tent. 

"You did a great job."you smiled before walking over to the other boys." Hi guys! What's up?"

"Y/N! Finally! Tell Alex to stop hitting me!" yelled Reggie. You shook your head laughing. 

“Stop being so childish than Reginald!”

“Boys, come on!! It is halloween, have some fun!” and with that you fished out a huge bag of candy from your backpack and threw it into Reggie’s hands. He looked up at you like you were some kind of miracle maker. 

“Is this..is this all candy?” the dark haired boy asked, still in awe. You laughed, nodding your head slightly. 

“Yeah. I don’t really want to think about how much money I spent on sweets.” 

Soon after everyone got to work (this time for real) and the fire was lit in no time. Just as it started to get darker. All five of you sat around the campfire. You sat next to Luke, opposed to  Reggie and Alex. Bobby sat beside them in a camping chair. Thanks to the warm californian weather you didn’t need jackets just yet, despite being the end of october.

"It's getting dark. I think we could get started on the ghost stories?" asked Bobby looking up at the sky then around the little clearing in the woods where your tents were set up. Reggie munched on some candy corns but immediately stopped upon hearing those words. 

"Ghost stories? Don't mind if I do." he sat his candies aside and prepared to tell a story that would send shivers down your spines. You leaned over to Luke, placing your head on his shoulder. He looked down at you with a smile before turning his attention back to the bassist. 

"One day, a little boy, while walking around the woods, found a big toe on the ground. He ran home with it and-" 

"-his mom cooked it in the soup which revolted in the toe's owner haunting them." you suddenly cut Reggie off. He gasps, offended. 

"What? I knew the story. Was I supposed to just sit around?" you ask, earning a soft laugh from Luke. Reggie huffed and gestured at you. 

"Alright then, take it away y/n. See if you can do better."

"Not to be that person but she definitely can. You only said like two sentences." Alex jumped in, not wanting to miss an opportunity to roast his friend. 

"Because she cut me off!!" 

The woods, once again erupted with the boys' laughter as you stared into the fire, waiting for them to quiet down so you can start your story. 

"I was only a small kid when this happened, around five,maybe six, but I still remember it like it was yesterday. My mother was out of town for the weekend because of her work, so naturally, it was my father who read me a bedtime story in the evening. Everything was great, he was reading from my favorite book but right before he could finish the chapter we heard a quiet tapping noise from downstairs. My father looked puzzled and put his finger against his lips, signaling me to stay quiet so he could listen. The tapping didn't stop, it got louder before turning into banging and a final loud crash which sounded like the front door flying open. I looked at my father, scared to death, not knowing what to do." you kept your voice low, your face straight and never removed your eyes from the fire."He grabbed me and quickly ran with me to the small bathroom that was connected to my room. He instructed me to lock my door and only open it when he says so. I don't know what happened after that, but heard my father going down and some muffled noises before hearing him climb back up the stairs. I remember his voice. It was just so nice and comforting. He said it was a false alarm and I could come out. I reached for the doorknob but then he leaned down and looked inside through the keyhole. My little hands stopped midair. I kept staring at his eyes. He repeated that it was safe to come out and that everything was fine. But I did not believe him. Because that wasn't my father. He sounded exactly like him, but his eyes… They were a different color. Not my father's welcoming eye color. So I just stood there. For minutes. Maybe hours. He wouldn't stop talking, reassuring me but I still didn't unlock the door."

Reggie leaned forward with a worried and scared expression.  

"What happened next?" 

You lifted your gaze, slowly to look at the spooked boy. 

"He started tapping. It sounded just like it did on the front door. And it wasn't long before he started banging his hand against the wood." 

"Oh my god.." Reggie whispers. 

"He is hitting harder and harder until finally the door breaks and flies open. And the creature, no longer looking or sounding like my father, rather like a tall bloodied figure with sharp teeth, jumps at me, opening his huge mouth and SWALLOWS ME WHOLE." you shout the last part causing Reggie to scream and the others to jump just a little. 

"Fuuckk, i think I peed myself!" exclaims Reggie. You only laugh, seeing all the boys being a bit paler. 

"So who's next?" 

"I'll go." Luke said beside you and you shifted away from him, knowing that he will need the space to gesture along his story. You watched as he started to speak. His expression changes with every sentence as he introduces his characters. His frown as he talks about a creepy night in the woods. Your eyes wander down to his lips, too busy just staring at them to actually listen to the words that make them move. You distantly hear various curse words from the guys as your boyfriend goes deeper into detail with his horrifying story. With eyes still glued to Luke, you smile slightly. 

"../n...y/n...Y/N!" you hear making you jump and almost falling backwards on the log you have been sitting on. You see all the guys staring at you. 

"How are you not scared? Did you not hear Luke's story?" Reggie asks, earning a knowing laugh from Alex. 

"No, she did not. She was too busy staring at his lips." as your friend's words hit your ears you feel your face heating up. 

"Dude..,alright I might have zoomed out. A bit but I am here now. Where were you, babe?" 

Luke looks at you, amused. 

"I finished like 3 minutes ago. You 'zoomed out' for legit 20 minutes." 

Looking up at the sky, you realized they were right because it got pitch black since you last looked up. Your lips curved into an 'o' shape before mumbling a sorry.. 

“We should put more wood on the fire. It's starting to weaken.” says Reggie. Bobby points into the dark woods.

“Suit yourself, man.” 

“What? I am not going alone. Someone come with me.” he whines. Alex visibly changes his posture and sits into a more comfortable position.Luke puts his muscular arm around your shoulder grinning.

“You’re on your own, man.”

“No! Please??”

You bite back a laugh and carefully remove Luke’s arm from you. 

“Alright, I’ll go with you.” 

“Thank you!You are amazing!” 

You grab the basket ,that’s been laying on the ground, for the twigs. You also reach into your bag for your flashlight. 

“Ok, I’m ready to go.” you step towards Reggie but Luke grabs your hand and places a small kiss on it. 

“Be careful, love.”

“Always.”

The two of you start walking towards the woods.

“Try not to pee yourselfs guys!” Alex calls after you in a sing-song voice.

“Ha ha, very funny Alex.”

To be honest you were a little spooked but didn’t show it.Not like Reggie who was literally shaking beside you and jumped up at every little noise he heard as you got further into the woods. You picked up a few sticks and bigger twigs, slowly filling the basket with them. Or rather, you tried but when Reggie stoped right in front of you you accidentally dropped it spilling the stuff everywhere.

“Dude! I am trying to help you here!”

“Shhhhh! Didn’t you hear that?” he whispers, voice panicked. 

“Come on, Reg. This isn’t going to work on me.”

He turns to look at you.

“No, y/n! I am serious! I heard a whisper! I’m sure of it!”

You roll your eyes, not believing your friend.

“You gotta be more convincing next time. I dont scare that easily..AH” just as you assured Reginald how it takes more for you to get spooked, someone, or something grabbed you from behind and started to pull you while shouting ‘WAA’. The flashlight landed on the ground too as you let out a bloodcurdling scream. You kicked your attacker(s?) wherever you could. 

“Ahh! WHoo, stop, it’s just us.” you suddenly hear your boyfriend's voice and feel the arms around you letting go. You turned around your fear vanishing and turning into anger.

Reggie behind you falls on the ground,clutching his chest while he tries not to cry.

“ARE YOU GUYS INSANE?!” you shout at Luke and Booby. Alex is nowhere to be seen, he probably stayed next the fire to keep an eye on your stuff. Luke's eyes immediately  widen upon hearing you raise your voice.

“I..I am sorry we thought-”

“What?! Lucas Patterson I am, so, so mad at you right now” you say shaking. You hear Bobby giggle quietly. You snap your head in his direction. “And don't even get me started on you Bobby...Bobby..uhm” you stop to think about his surname, only to realise you don’t know it. For a moment you let go of your anger. “What is your surname?”

He only scoffs and smiles. Alex must have heard the shouting and come to investigate with a flashlight in one hand and a drumstick (as a weapon?) in his other.He soon puts them down tho as he sees that you are all in one piece. Luke looks at Bobby with a puzzled expression.

“That is actually creepy, cause I don’t know it either.”

“What?! How? He has been in a band for, what? A year and a half? And you never actually asked his last name?” you ask, more interested in the mystery of Bobby’s name than shouting at them now. Luke shrugs.

“Do you even have a last name?” you hear Reggie asking from the ground. You all turn to him with questioning looks.

“Everyone has a last name Reginald.” says Alex.

“Not celtic gods, no.” he responds.

“What?” Luke exclaims clearny not understanding the bassist.

“Bobby is not a god.” says the drummer annoyed. “ He is a normal teenager like us.”

“Is he tho?”

Meanwhile Bobby leans back against a tree and stares at Reggie.

“You are creeping me out...Please stop creeping me out oh majestic god of...what are you the god of?”

Booby just smiles mysteriously. 

“Oh for f…’s sake.Y/N back me up here, there are no gods and even if there were, Bobby is not one of them.”

“Thanks Alex but I am not offending a celtic god.”

“What is wrong with you guys?!”

Luke doesn’t know who to look at in this chaos. Soon he decides to pick up the twigs and collect more while you, Reggie and Alex argue whether Bobby is a god or not. Bobby bends down too, to help the lead singer.

“You do know my name is actually Wilson, right?” 

“Yeah. Of course I do, I think Reggie does too, he just forgot.” the two boys laugh. 

You all walk back to the camp and Booby, upon seeing Reggie still looking at him suspiciously walks over to him.

“I am not an ancient god, you know.”

“That is exactly what I would say too.”

Not hearing Reggie’s nonsense reminds you of what Luke did so when you feel him wrapping his arms around you, you push him away.

“I sorry, bae. I was an asshole. I shouldn’t have. Please look at me?” he stands before you so there is no way you can avoid him.

“Don’t do this again.” you said with a firm tone. You can't help but smile, seeing Luke’s shit eating grin. He opens his arms once again but waits for you to hug him first. You do, and for minutes you just stand there in his embrace. The silence was broken by the familiar sound of the acoustic guitar which was followed by Reggie’s voice as he started to play some country song. 

“Dude, no, put down my guitar.”Luke ran off to get his instrument or to, at least convince him to play ‘normal’ music. You laugh and walk over to Alex and Bobby.

“Hey, y/n, I am sorry about scaring you.”

You wave your hand. 

“It’s fine. However don’t be surprised when I get back at you.” you say before sitting down next to Reggie and giving him a hug because let’s be honest he was pretty traumatised in the woods too.

“Woo,hey! Why does he get a hug?” Luke asks, upset he couldn’t change Reggies mind about playing country songs. And from the fact that his girlfriend was hugging him.

“Maybe because you decided that it was a funny idea to scare the living shit out of him and I.”

“Stop guilt tripping me.” he pulls you up and away from the fire, closer to the tents. ”I said I am sorry. And you are right, I shouldn’t  have scared you. Besides…” he leaned closer to your ear “I know more fun ways to make you scream.”

You gasp upon hearing his words and right when you are about to react Alex walks by casually. 

“No, no. With the tents it’s like we are sleeping next to each other. If you guys try anything I will murder you myself.”

Both of you look after him, blushing before breaking into laughter.

Luke’s watch showed 3:58 when you all agreed to call it a night.You put out the fire with the help of Bobby while Luke went to pack away the trash you all left out.

Reggie yawned and looked up at Alex.

“I am still pretty scared...Can I cuddle you Alex?”

He looks at him like he heard it wrong.

“Absolutely not.”

“What about you Bobby?”

“No way, Reg.”

Despite them saying this, all three of them woke up hugging each other in the morning.

[annabethy]

under the mistletoe, watching the fire glow day 16: cookies

Character A makes too many cookies and shares them with Character B,, percabeth 

Percy looks at the table before him that is littered with endless trays of cookies. It’s overwhelming, really, staring so much sugar in the eyes. There’s chocolate chip, and sugar cookies, red and green sprinkles, and everything in between, and it has Percy wondering if he’s going to be able to eat them all.

He blames his mother. She’s always baked during Christmas, and he thinks a part of that has been instilled inside of him. So it’s really his mom’s fault that he’s staring what could very well be bordering five-hundred cookies in his painfully sugared eyes.

“Daddy?”

Percy’s eyes flick down to the counter where he spots his three-year-old peeking over the table on the tips of her toes. Her hair is a mess of blonde curls, and she reminds him so much of her mother. He smiles gently. “You’re supposed to be asleep, baby.”

She rubs her eyes tiredly, coming around the counter to raise her arms up at him. He obliges, picking her up, before turning back to the counter.

“Cookies?”

Percy kisses the top of her head as she rests her head on his shoulder. “Lots of cookies for Santa Claus.”

“Is Santa Claus coming?”

“Not net, princess,” he tells her. “Santa Claus comes tomorrow night.”

“I think that’s too much cookies for Santa Claus to eat,” she whispers quietly. It makes his heart melt. He can tell she’s very sleepy, and she must have just woken up. Percy glances to the clock that reads two in the morning before he turns his attention back to his daughter in his arms. He rocks her back and forth.

“Why are you awake?” he asks softly.

She just shrugs, and he figures he’s not going to be getting much information from her when she’s in that state. He picks up a cookie with sprinkles and taps his daughter’s shoulder with it to get her attention. She grabs it silently, bringing it to her mouth and nibbling the corner tiredly, her mouth coating with crumbs.

“Yummy?” he asks.

“Mh-hm.”

Percy chuckles, letting her have a moment to finish the treat. Her mom would probably murder him if she found out that he let her have sugar at bedtime, but he’s also sure that she’s sleeping right now. He could probably outrun her if she decided to chase after him too.

The thought brings a smile to his face. His wife waddling around the house with her protruding stomach is too cute of a thought for him to handle. She’d run out of breath so easily, and he’d feel bad that she couldn’t catch and bully him, so he’ll slow down and let her get to him just to keep her happy. And then she would pretend to be mad, but he’d bait her with another cookie, and she’d kiss him, and he’ll fall in love with her all over again.

“Santa Claus is going to eat all of the cookies?”

Percy smiles, picking up a cookie for himself. “Not all of them.”

“What about the rest?”

“I don’t know,” he admits. “I guess we just have to eat them all ourselves.”

His daughter picks up her head to look at the piles upon piles of cookies. She looks so concerned, so much like her mother, that he chuckles. “I can’t eat all that.”

An idea pops into his head, and he’s probably going to regret this later, but he sets his daughter down and pulls a plate of cookies off the counter. “Let’s go share some with mommy then.”

She follows him down the wall, taking many more steps than him in order to keep up with his larger strides. He reaches the door of his bedroom, slowly creaking the door open. It’s pitch black in the room, and he can just barely make out her figure on the bed, herself turned on her side with one leg kicked up and a blanket already sliding off of her.

Percy bends down to his daughter, handing her the plate. “Go give this to mommy.”

She does as she’s told, quietly pattering over to her mother’s side. Percy watches as she struggles onto the bed, setting the plate on the mattress so she can kick one leg over the edge and try to pull herself up. Percy goes to her side to make sure she doesn’t fall off, and he helps give her the last boost so she can crawl onto the bed.

His wife’s back is to Percy so as their daughter crawls closer to them, she doesn’t even stir. Sophia sets the plate onto her mom’s stomach and her tiny hands come to try and shake her awake.

“Mommy,” she whispers, fingers brushing up and down his wife’s arms. “We brought you cookies.”

Annabeth shifts slightly, and Percy knows that she’s awake even though her eyes are closed.

“Wake up,” she whispers loudly.

“What is it, Sophie?” Annabeth stretches a leg out, her eyes still closed.

“I have cookies for you.”

Annabeth blinks open one eye now and meets Sophia’s eyes that are peering at her in the dark. “Why do you have cookies for me right now?”

“Daddy told me to give them to you,” she says, and Percy can’t believe his own kid just sold him out.

It’s like she can sense another person in the room now because she turns onto her other side and locks eyes with him in the dark. “Daddy told you to bring me cookies in the middle of the night?”

“They’re super yummy. Daddy gave me one too.”

Annabeth shakes her head at him, but she’s smothering a smile into the comforter. “Did he?”

“Daddy said I can have another one,” she says, fingers trying to pick up another cookie. Annabeth’s hand wraps around her daughter’s wrist, stopping her.

“Daddy did not,” he defends, humored. He joins them on the bed, sitting cross-legged next to Annabeth. He takes the plate from Annabeth, handing her one cookie. “Daddy just made too many cookies. Santa Claus can’t eat them all.”

Their daughter nods seriously.

Annabeth smiles and rolls her eyes, taking it from his fingers. “Mrs. Claus can’t eat them all either, Percy.”

“I heard Mrs. Claus has a little buddy that might be able to help,” he teases. When his daughter isn’t looking, he moves his hand to rest over her stomach, and he smiles at the reminder of what they’ve created.

Annabeth takes a small bite. “How many did you make?”

“I think I counted five-hundred something.”

She chokes. “Percy.”

“It wasn’t my fault. I couldn’t sleep, so I made cookies, then I made more, and some more, and it just happened.”

“So now you woke me up to eat all of the cookies you made when I already don’t sleep?” “Yes.”

Sophia bounces excitedly. “Can we make some more cookies?”

“You’re supposed to be asleep,” Annabeth says.

“I’m not tired,” she whines.

“Not now that daddy gave you a cookie,” she mutters pointedly to Percy. He just smiles and kisses her forehead.

“Can we watch a movie?” she pleads.

Annabeth pinches Percy’s side, and he pulls her close. She molds into his side, her stomach resting on his, and whispers, “This is your fault,” before telling Sophie, “One movie and then sleep.”

Sophia excitedly settles into her parents’ bed. She steals Percy’s pillow right out from under his head which has him insulted but also endeared, but he just uses Annabeth’s pillow instead. He throws on a random movie, and it’s not long before their daughter is asleep beside them, leaving the two of them alone in each other’s arms.

“I can’t believe that you woke me up to eat cookies at two in the morning,” she whispers, flicking his nose. “Naughty boy.”

“Baby, you haven’t seen naughty,” he tells her, nipping her nose lightly in retaliation. “I’d show you what naughty is, but our baby is in the bed.”

“Two babies in bed,” she reminds him, pointedly dragging his hand away from where it had started to travel up her thigh.

“Don’t remind me,” he says. “I can’t believe we’re going to have two kids.”

She laughs quietly. “It’s insane.”

“It is,” he agrees, “but it’s also amazing. I love you two so much, and I don’t know how that love could possibly get bigger, but it does every single day, and when this baby comes — I don’t know how I’m going to survive. I think the overwhelming love may give me a heart attack.”

“Don’t do that. I need you to change diapers while I sleep.”

“I need to change diapers?”

“You change diapers and do laundry and dishes and cleaning, and I’ll snuggle the baby.”

“So nothing changes, then?” he teases.

“Oh, shut up.”

Percy laughs into her neck. He kisses the warm skin before saying, “I’ll change the diapers and do the laundry and dishes. You just make sure our baby is nice and safe inside there.”

“Your baby is not very happy inside there right now.”

Percy pouts. “Why not?”

“Baby wants another cookie.”

“The baby wants a cookie? Not you? The baby?”

“Of course it’s the baby. How dare you insinuate that I would ever eat something so toxic otherwise.”

“Oh, my bad.”

Annabeth snorts, pressing her face into his chest. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

She’s really warm against him, and it feels good in the cool air of the house. They fall into a silence as the movie plays in the room, the only source of light. Her breathing begins to even out, and he can tell that she’s falling asleep. He lets her, rubbing up and down her back.

To his side, his daughter is out like a light. She’s so small to him, barely taking up any space on the bed, and it’s difficult to imagine when she was first born. It feels like forever ago, but it was really only three years. So much has changed since then. Him and Annabeth have been up and down and left and right trying to figure this parenting thing out. They managed to survive, if just barely, but they did it by each other’s side.

He doesn’t think he could have done this without her. She’s his best friend, his rock in the middle of a storm. It was hard, but they did it.

And now there’s another baby on the way. They don’t know if it’s a boy or a girl yet, but Percy has a feeling it’s another daughter. He wouldn’t mind another daughter. He didn’t know he could love someone as much as he loves Sophia, and if he can feel that love with another daughter, then he wants to. He knows that things are going to fall apart again, though not in a bad way.

Him and Annabeth are probably going to be running around like headless chickens with the new baby all while Sophia sits back and watches, but he wouldn’t change it for the world. They’ll figure it out as long as they have each other.

Besides. What’s life is not a journey?

Annabeth shifts against him again, and he pulls a blanket up the both of them. This is a life he will never get tired of. He is so thankful for moments like this. They don’t come often, but he cherishes these midnight shenanigans. It’s a different thing to just lay with your family at night and forget the rest of the world. It’s a breath of fresh air, a moment where nothing matters except the people he loves.

He’s glad that he ended up making way too many cookies. It was surely a chunk of his paycheck to buy so many different ingredients, but it brought him to where he is now. It’s a beautiful, fleeting moment, and money does not matter to him. No price can be put on this, he thinks.

Percy presses a kiss to Annabeth’s forehead again before he closes his eyes. As he drifts off to sleep, he’s thinking of Annabeth and the perfect world they’ve created.

[carewyncromwell]

“We were dreamers not so long ago, But one by one, we all had to grow up. When it seems the magic’s slipped away, We find it all again on Christmas Day...”

~“Believe,” by Josh Groban

x~x~x~x

The Ravenclaw VS Hufflepuff match was one for the ages. With a final score of 320-10, it was one of the most decisive matches in Hogwarts history, let alone one of Ravenclaw house’s greatest triumphs -- and all of it was because of the combined efforts of Seeker Cho Chang and Ravenclaw’s Chasers, led by their Star Player Robert Bellamy. It put Ravenclaw well on its way to winning the Quidditch Cup for a second time, and it also made Robert once again the talk of Ravenclaw house. People latched onto the idea of him using echolocation to signal to his fellow Chasers where he was on the pitch and began to say he could fly faster than any bat, whether a real one or one from Ballycastle. 

And yet, despite all of the praise and fawning he received, just as Cecelia said, Robert shrugged all of it off. 

“All of us train more than just our eyes,” he said with a shrug. “And besides, signaling would’ve meant nothing if Roger and Randolph hadn’t been good enough Chasers to toss the Quaffle to me blindly -- and if Roger hadn’t been a good enough Captain to lead our team, to begin with. Not to mention Cho catching the Snitch in the middle of that fog -- that’s infinitely harder than anything we did...”

Atticus @cursebreakerfarrier​​​​ couldn’t quite understand how Robert could be so determined not to accept praise for his abilities when it was so clearly warranted...but even so, he found himself smiling every time he heard him respond with such modesty. For as flippant, rebellious, and devil-may-care as Robert was, he wasn’t full of himself. It was a rather endearing quality. 

When December arrived, the student body got into a predictable tizzy about the upcoming holidays. Atticus, as always, found himself grumpier than usual due to the noise. He’d never really liked Christmas even as a kid, and at Hogwarts the season only served to make him more surly. Atticus recalled, however, that Robert was one of those people who got obnoxious around Christmas -- it had always irritated him before, whenever Robert would sing Christmas carols loudly at the top of his lungs while helping decorate the Ravenclaw common room. And this year was no exception. The Star Chaser helped smuggle a tree up to Ravenclaw Tower, hung garlands and clusters of holly all over the Ravenclaw commonroom, and greeted and said goodbye to absolutely everybody with “Happy Christmas,” and on the morning of December 8th, the very day he no longer had to dress all neatly like Atticus, he pulled out his old red-felt Santa hat and wore it every single day for the rest of term.

Atticus was frankly done, and the holiday break hadn’t even started yet. 

“Aw, come on, Lestrange!” said Robert one day after Potions, giving the other boy a light punch to the shoulder. “Lighten up -- it’s Christmas!”

“So you keep reminding me,” Atticus said dully. He tried to bury his nose in his copy of Moste Potente Potions, but Robert wouldn’t drop the line of conversation. 

“Well, I wouldn’t keep reminding you if you cheered up a little,” he said with a grin. “Do you always have to be such a Scrooge around this time of year?”

“Do you always have to be so happy about it?” Atticus shot back. “...What’s a ‘Scrooge’ anyway?”

“A character from A Christmas Carol,” Ceci explained with a small, amused smile. “It’s a Muggle book -- it’s a lovely one too: you’d like it, Atticus...”

“Better have Rob read it aloud for you, though,” said Barty with a big grin. “No one reads it like Rob.”

“A Christmas Carol is a masterpiece of literature -- all I do is treat it accordingly,” Robert said offhandedly. He shot Atticus a wry smile over his shoulder. “Though I suppose if it’d help you actually get to sleep at a reasonable hour for once, I could always read it to you as a bedtime story, Lestrange -- ”

“No thank you,” Atticus cut him off crisply. 

Her face appearing rather sympathetic, Ceci lightly bumped her arm against Atticus’s as they walked.

“Are you staying here for the holidays again, Atticus?”

Atticus nodded. “The library’s always nice and quiet, over break. It’s a good time to get some extra work done...”

Robert’s light-hearted expression faded -- something almost guilty passed over his face. 

“...Mm...”

His black eyes drifted away, off toward the far wall. Barty offered both his best friend and Atticus a smile. 

“Well, uh...maybe we can do some work over break together, then, Atticus,” Barty offered.

Atticus stiffened like a startled cat. “Huh?”

“My parents are taking a trip to visit my aunt and cousins in Normandy,” Barty explained sheepishly, “so I was thinking of staying at Hogwarts over break too! Don’t reckon much of anyone else in our year will be, so maybe we can hang out a bit over break, if you’d like...”

Atticus truly couldn’t think of anything he’d want to do less. Knowing it’d be incredibly rude to say so, however, he forced an uncomfortable smile. Ceci, however, jumped on it.

“That’s perfect!” she said. “Maybe you and Atticus can do some extra research, Barty.”

Atticus blinked in confusion. “Research?”

“About our dreams,” said Ceci eagerly.

Barty nodded. “One thing all of our visions have in common is that we all look older, right? You said that the guy in your dreams kind of looks like me, but older -- and Ceci, Rob, and I all see each other looking older too. But when we looked into Divination, all we really got was a lot of vague preaching -- ”

“You mean utter rubbish,” Robert inserted with a smirk. 

“So Robert was thinking,” Barty pressed on, “if this is some kind of future sight we’re having, maybe we can find out what’s causing it by studying Time-centric magic.”

“And what better person to help us with researching something in the library than Atticus Lestrange?” Ceci said with satisfaction, taking both of Atticus’s shoulders from behind and giving them a light squeeze.

Atticus, however, didn’t look so sure. “Well, thank you, but...I’ve already read every book in the library about Time Turners -- and I don’t think there’s anything in there that might explain what’s going on...”

“Every book?” prompted Ceci, raising an eyebrow. 

“Yes,” said Atticus. “Well, except for the Restricted Section, but...”

He trailed off, noticing the wicked look that Ceci and Robert exchanged before they both glanced at Barty.

“Except for the Restricted Section,” repeated Robert, his lips spread in a broad white smirk.

Barty grinned -- his expression was perfectly angelic compared to his cohorts, and yet it was determined.

“Atticus,” he said in a very soft, but perfectly fearless voice, “mind if I join you on your evening Prefect rounds, over break?”

And that was how Atticus Lestrange got roped into sneaking into the Restricted Section of the Library after dark on Christmas Eve with Barty Gilbert. 

Atticus had been very wary when he lingered in the hall outside Ravenclaw Tower as planned, waiting for Barty. He knew his father most assuredly wouldn’t approve of this, and even despite that, he dreaded the thought of willingly spending time with his school rival. It didn’t matter how pleasantly the Gryffindor acted around him, or even how fond Atticus was becoming of his best friend -- Atticus didn’t like Barty, and that was that. And he absolutely hated the thought of getting into trouble just because he was roped into working with him. 

Unfortunately Atticus was so uptight and stiff while waiting around that he nearly had a heart attack when Barty’s disembodied voice whispered in his ear. 

“Sorry!” Barty whispered quickly. “I’m sorry -- I was really trying not to sneak up on you, but Filch is around that next corner...ack! Here he comes!”

He threw some sort of translucent cloth over Atticus’s head, prompting the other boy to crouch down so it covered both of them. 

The crabby Hogwarts caretaker, Argus Filch, rounded the corner, raising his lantern and looking around. His beady eyes glided over where Atticus and Barty were standing, narrowing suspiciously, before he trudged away.

“Andskotans djöful,” Atticus swore under his breath. 

He was clutching at his chest and breathing very heavily as he turned to gawk at Barty over his shoulder. 

“You have an Invisibility Cloak?”

Barty grinned sheepishly. “My parents own several robe shops. I figured one of their stock going missing wouldn’t be the absolute end of the world...”

He adjusted somewhat so that the fabric wouldn’t drag on the floor.

“Come on -- let’s get to the library.”

Fortunately the two managed to get into the Restricted Section without incident. Once they were positive no one was in the Library to catch them, Barty stood watch under his Cloak by the door, his wand over his chest, while Atticus combed through the shelves of books, his own wand lit and held aloft so he could scan the titles. The two didn’t talk much -- the discomfort congealed between them as Atticus tried to keep his eyes on what he was doing. 

“Anything promising?” asked Barty.

“Not yet,” said Atticus shortly. 

Silence returned. After another moment, Barty spoke again.

“Atticus...may I ask you something?”

“What?”

“In your dreams...do you see bad things happening?”

Atticus paused. Then he slid another book from the shelf and opened it, flipping through the pages. 

“Not really. I don’t see much of anything, I think -- at least, not that I can remember. It’s...feelings, mostly.”

“Feelings like you know something’s wrong? Like, even if you can’t see what happened, you feel so much pain and sorrow that you know it’s bad?”

“Sometimes.”

Barty nodded, turning his focus back out into the blackness of the Library. 

“As far back as I can remember,” he said very softly, “I’ve had this dream where I was trying to reach someone. I couldn’t ever see their face clearly, but I just knew, somehow, that the person was in trouble, and that I had to help them. But no matter how fast I tried to run to try to get to that person...my vision would black out and I’d feel like I was frozen still, unable to move at all.”

He bowed his head, his eyes cast into shadow. 

“...I would wake up screaming and crying at night, when I was little...all because I couldn’t reach that person in time. Because I knew that, because I didn’t move fast enough...that person was dead.”

Atticus’s hand had stilled on the book he was flipping through. His eyes were wide upon the page, but clearly weren’t taking in any of the words printed there. The memory of his own mother trying to comfort him after he woke up crying about a pair of red eyes and warm arms rippled over his mind. 

“When I got to Hogwarts,” Barty said lowly, “my dreams became a little clearer. I still didn’t know where I was or what I was doing...but this person who I’d been running to try to save, my whole life, suddenly had a face. A man with black eyes and curly hair...just like my best friend.”

He looked up at Atticus, his face incredibly serious. 

“I don’t know why you’ve seen someone like me in your dreams, Atticus,” said Barty, “and I know you don’t like me...but I could really use your help, in getting to the bottom of all this. Robert is my best friend in the whole world. He’s the first person who became my friend solely because of who I am, rather than who my family is. If I lost him...if anything bad happened to him...”

A dark, miserable shadow passed over his face. 

“...I don’t know what I’d do,” he whispered.

Atticus looked up at last. His blue eyes were rather uncertain. 

“What about Cecelia?” he asked. “Didn’t she become your friend for who you are?”

Barty’s eyes softened as his face flushed lightly. 

“...Ceci means everything to me. We’ve known each other forever. But her family only engaged with mine because we had money...and my parents only let us play together because her parents would bring her over. Our parents encouraged her to play with me because my parents reckoned she’d be a ‘good influence’ on me...might help me come out of my shell some...”

“Well, I suppose they were right,” muttered Atticus. “Now you’re the hot-shot Dueling Champion and Dragon Tamer...Hogwarts’s Golden Boy...”

The last words came out before he could stop himself and he immediately looked away, his insides prickling with discomfort. 

Barty, amazingly, only smiled weakly.

“It’s easy to be brave when you know you’re doing the right thing,” he said, “when you’re standing up for somebody or trying to calm an animal that doesn’t know any better. When you’re fighting, or protecting, there isn’t any thought -- you just do. Because it’s the right thing to do.”

He looked down again, his shoulders falling slightly.

“...But when you’re around people...trying to figure out just what to say, to tell people what you mean...or even just how much to say, when you know not everyone means you well...well, that’s not so easy. You feel like the whole world is watching you, and judging you, no matter what you say...even if you say nothing at all. But at least when you’re quiet...people can kind of just see what they want to see...”

Atticus frowned. Barty had always been rather soft-spoken compared to witty, sassy Robert and sociable, amiable Ceci, but he’d never really taken the time to conclude that Barty was actually shy. 

“I’ve always envied Robert that way,” admitted Barty, offering Atticus a small smile. “He’s never at a loss of what to say. When you and he go at it, bantering like you do...I can tell you like each other, but there’s just such a charge there -- like the eclectic lamps Professor Burbage has in her Muggle Studies class!” He beamed a bit more broadly. “It’s so cool.”

Atticus stared at Barty for a moment, unsure of what to say. Then, after a moment, he looked back down at the book in his hands.

“...Thanks,” he said at last. He could feel his ears burning again.

Barty, however, only smiled, his blue eyes very understanding and patient as he returned his focus to the dark Library again. 

Atticus glanced up at Barty without raising his head, considering him for a moment. Then, with a swallow, he spoke again.

“...I...used to wake up crying too. When I was little.”

Barty looked up, taken aback.

“I used to dream about this person with red eyes,” said Atticus. “He’d be squeezing my shoulders -- almost as if he was afraid to touch me at first, but then gently, purposefully. Then, as he held my shoulders, he would start to laugh...but even though he was laughing, I would hear the sobs. I could tell he was crying...crying in grief and joy and something else altogether...but so much pain. A kind of pain I don’t think I could ever know...”

Just remembering the heartbreaking sound made Atticus’s throat clench and his eyes well up with traces of tears. He wiped them quickly from his eyes with one hand. 

“My mother used to comfort me, telling me that it was just a dream, that nothing in it could hurt me,” he said lowly. “But she never needed to say that -- I knew he wouldn’t hurt me. He was the one hurting.”

He swallowed. The lump in his throat was painful. 

“...I didn’t have the dream as much, as I got older -- just time to time, around some of the other weird ones. Maybe I just don’t sleep long enough stretches to dream as much anymore,” he added as an afterthought. “But when Bellamy and I got paired for Binns’s oral report...well, that feeling came back, out of nowhere...and again, when you, Ceci, and I were watching the match against Hufflepuff.”

Atticus forced himself to meet Barty’s eyes at last.

“I don’t understand this whole thing at all...but I want to know why I’m feeling these things, and I want to know why you, Ceci, and Bellamy see what you’re seeing, too. If that’s what you want too...well, then it’s only practical that we work together.”

He offered a weak smile of his own. Barty was definitely taken aback, but within seconds, his face had lit up with a warmer, more determined smile and he nodded.

“Mm-hmm.”

From that day on, Barty Gilbert and Atticus Lestrange had made peace. 

Unfortunately their night in the Library proved fruitless, research-wise. Not even Dark or restricted magic could explain the kinds of bizarre, fragmented visions the four students were experiencing. And so Atticus returned to his dorm that night feeling very disheartened. He was less so, however, when he awoke out of a restless doze in the Ravenclaw armchair Christmas morning to the feeling of someone holding his shoulder and lightly shaking it.

“Atticus. Atticus.”

Atticus blinked sleepily up at who’d woken him, to see a familiar, shyly smiling face framed by auburn hair.

“Happy Christmas,” Barty greeted gently.

Atticus shook his head rapidly, trying to orient himself. 

“W-what? Gilbert, what -- what are you doing in -- ?”

Just behind Barty, Atticus could see both Ceci and Robert grinning from ear to ear. 

“Surprise!” said Ceci brightly. 

“Happy Christmas, Lestrange,” said Robert, his black eyes dancing with mischief.

Atticus looked around at all three of them, perfectly bewildered. “But -- but you -- you two went home for Christmas -- how did -- ?”

“Rob and I took the Floo back!” Ceci explained. 

“It was Rob’s idea,” said Barty. “I thought I’d keep the whole thing quiet, until they got here.”

“I couldn’t change my plans and stay for my whole break, since I have to be at home for Christmas Eve church service,” said Robert, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably, “but well, the thought of you being stuck here all alone...”

His eyes drifted up to the ceiling. 

“‘The school is not quite deserted,’ said the Ghost,” he recited from memory, “‘A solitary child, neglected by his friends, is left there still.’”

He returned his gaze to Atticus seriously. 

“A Christmas Carol,” he added as explanation. “It’s part of why Scrooge ends up hating Christmas so much -- he wasn’t allowed to go home for the holidays to see his family, so instead he stayed at school all alone, with nothing but his books for company. I know this whole season isn’t your thing and all, but...it just seemed rotten, to leave you and Barty alone.” 

Barty beamed at Atticus. Atticus, on the other hand, was too overwhelmed to respond. He felt like his throat had gone very dry, all of the moisture instead moving up toward his eyes. 

Robert and Ceci had put their holidays with their families on hold for him. Yes, Robert said it was for him and Barty, but he’d been thinking of Atticus and how lonely he’d be. No one had ever done anything quite so kind for him before, and it made Atticus feel like his heart was flooding. 

“...You...” he murmured, “...but...why?”

Ceci laughed. “Why do you think? You’re our friend, Atticus! We wanted to spend Christmas with you!”

Atticus’s heart swelled. 

Friend. He was their friend?

He looked from Ceci to Barty to Robert -- his black-haired dormmate smiled, his black eyes sparkling as he nodded in agreement. 

The tears that had been prickling at the sides of Atticus’s eyes actually leaked through, escaping down his cheeks, as he smiled back. He quickly wiped them away, his smile gleaming as he looked up at the three of them.

“...Thank you,” he said at last breathily. “I...I don’t know what to say...”

Ceci brought her arms around Atticus in a sideways hug. “Then don’t say anything! We have presents to unwrap! Come on, come on -- Barty, Rob and I put ours under the tree before we woke you...”

Atticus felt a bit guilty that he hadn’t thought to buy any presents for Robert, Barty, and Cecelia, but he honestly hadn’t expected that they’d want to get him anything. But sure enough, all three of them gave marvelous presents -- Barty gave Atticus a book on Dark creatures; Ceci gave him his own leather-bound copy of A Christmas Carol; and Robert gave him a beautiful bookmark carved out of wood into the shape of a Phoenix and painted brilliant shades of red and orange. The card enclosed said,

Ceci helped me paint this for you. Hope this little turkey can keep you company in the Library. 

Happy Christmas!

Robert

Atticus was amazed when he learned that Robert had actually carved the bookmark himself by hand. Apparently Robert had used some of the leftover wood from the trunk of the tree he’d smuggled into Ravenclaw Tower to make Atticus’s bookmark -- he’d also used some of the branches he’d had to trim off to make Barty a carved picture frame and Ceci a pretty wooden heart pendant she could wear as a necklace. They were all a little rough around the edges, but the effort showed through, and it warmed Atticus’s heart to think of the amount of work Robert must’ve put in to make his presents. 

The whole day put Atticus in such a good mood that he even encouraged Robert to read aloud from his new leather-bound copy of A Christmas Carol, so he could hear it. The request made Robert’s dark eyes light up more brightly than Atticus had ever seen them before...and indeed, when Robert finished reading the beautifully written, emotional novel with such warm sincerity and articulated poetry that evening, Atticus had to admit -- it was a very, very good book. 

[estrel]

suptober20 day 16 prompt: switch it up! (ficlet) | destiel | ~ 2k words

summary: 15x15 coda (sort of) wherein Dean accidentally flips a switch that puts him in Cas’ body, and vice versa.

Dean ran his hand along the wall, feeling the rough plaster under his skin until he reached a bump, something raised beneath the surface of the wallpaper.

“Did Rowena have a thing for uh…trick doors, or anything like that?”

Sam huffed a laugh from the other side of the storage room.

“Can’t say it sounds out of character. How come? You find something?”

By then Dean had peeled most of the wallpaper off of the raised surface without much difficulty. He was twisted awkwardly, back bent to reach into the space between the shelves where it was hidden.

He managed to finally rip the last bit off, and brushed away the remaining debris from what ended up being a metal box attached to the wall. Dean flipped it open, curiosity high for a moment before vanishing just as quickly.

“No, never mind. It’s just a light switch for something.” Dean flipped it, once, and looked around for any changes. Nothing. He flipped it back off, and then on again.

“Anything?” Dean asked.

Sam shrugged. “No? Pretty sure that’s just an old switch she covered up because it didn’t work. Rowena probably could have kept all of the electricity in this entire building running with just a flick of her wrist.”

Sam had a point. They were here for that exact reason, actually—to check one last time if any of her tomes said anything about how to defeat god. Because now…now they had to find another way. After coming up empty at the bunker, Sam had suggested one last look around the apartment.

Unfortunately for them, no luck so far.

Bzzt.

Sam took his phone out of his pocket and frowned down at it, fingers gliding over the screen to type.

“It’s Eileen. She thinks she might have something. I’m gonna…go…”

Dean waved him off, “Sure, go do your thing. I’ll keep looking here.”

He watched as Sam left and returned once again to the dusty shelves.

It was insane to think that not a single one of these had the answer. Dean rubbed at his mouth, wondering if it was even worth it to keep going, when he heard familiar footsteps stop a few feet behind him.

He didn’t need to look to know that it was Cas.

“Any luck?” Dean asked. They seemed to be banking a lot on “luck” these days.

Cas took another step, so Dean turned his shoulder to sort of face him. He was glad he hadn’t turned completely, because at the sight of Cas’ expression, Dean’s forcing his eyes away would have been made all the more obvious.

So, no luck there either.

“Dean, I know you’re angry,” Cas started. Dean shook his head, mindlessly moving books around the shelves to keep him occupied.

“I’m not,” he said. But he was. He was…he was…

“You are.”

“Why would I be?” Dean asked the shelf, loud enough for Cas to hear. “You were just going to leave. Again. Without telling us.”

Silence. Dean glanced at him now, gripping something small in his hand (a hex bag or a crystal or something, he wasn’t paying attention) to ground him.

“Why?”

Cas looked down. “Jack…asked me not to tell you. He thought—”

Dean turned to him fully now, brows furrowed. “No. I’m not talking about Jack.”

Cas’ eyes widened just a fraction, but Dean didn’t spare a moment to decipher it. He was too…

“Why do you put me through this? Why can’t you just…imagine what it’s like for me to keep seeing you walk away? Sacrificing yourself? Getting killed? Why is it so hard to put yourself in my shoes? To—to switch places, for once?”

Cas opened his mouth and closed it again.

Dean took a deep breath, letting the anger simmer down from boiling to lukewarm. His eyes caught on the switch again, and suddenly he couldn’t remember which way it was facing when he’d first seen it. Up, or down? He flipped it again once, just to be sure, just to fill the silence, when the entire building went black.

It was a few seconds, or maybe a couple of minutes, before the lights came back on.

Dean wasn’t by the shelves anymore, which was weird. He didn’t remember moving, but it wasn’t entirely out of the question that he had. The darkness had been pitch, fumbling around was probably what had happened.

Sam came rushing in not long after, looking perplexed and a little winded.

“Dean? Cas? What the hell was that?”

“The power went off when—when—” He heard his own voice say. But he was pretty sure he hadn’t said anything.

Dean balked and looked over. Where he had once been standing was….well, him. But obviously not him because he was right here, which was—

“Oh, shit.”

His voice was Cas’ voice. Deep, grumbly. His body….

Dean looked down to see himself clad in a trench coat and slacks and everything that screamed Cas. His heart clenched. He could smell Cas’ cologne on him, everywhere.

He thought for a moment that he might pass out, but then Sam was looking at him strangely, like he hadn’t heard him right, and Cas—the Cas he assumed was currently inhabiting his body—stood frozen a few feet away.

So Dean straightened in his new body, Cas’ body, it was Cas’ body, and leveled Sam with his best Cas impression.

“He flipped a light switch. Everything’s fine.” Dean turned to Cas. “A word?”

Cas nodded jerkily and followed him past Sam and into a corner of Rowena’s apartment far enough for Sam not to hear.

“Dean, what are you doing? We have to tell Sam that we—that we—”

“That we got friggin Freaky Friday’d, I know. But we can’t. Not…not yet.”

Dean found Cas’ exasperated head tilt to look weird on his own face.

“Why is that?”

“Because this is exactly what I was talking about! Look, I have no idea how this happened, I mean I knew that switch had some mojo crap in it—”

“And you still flipped it anyway?”

“The point is, my wish came true, Cas. I’m just asking for a day. One day, and then we can try to figure this out and go back to being ourselves.”

Cas sighed. Dean watched the way his features were softer, now that Cas used them.

“Fine. One day.”

—

And it was fine. At first.

They’d packed up and started home within thirty minutes after the incident, which was what they were calling it, and managed to keep their mouths shut long enough for Sam to believe they were still themselves.

How Cas managed it, Dean had no idea. From his point of view, everything down to the way Cas breathed in his body just screamed “Cas”, and he would’ve hounded his brother for being oblivious if he hadn’t been jabbering about whatever Eileen had said on their call for the entire duration of their drive.

All Cas really had to do was focus on driving and muttering a response here and there. Dean willed from the backseat with whatever angel mojo he’d recently inherited that Cas didn’t crash Baby, or else he might just break character and end this whole thing they had going here.

It must have worked, because they got to the bunker safe and sound about an hour later. Cas tried following him around a few times, but Dean gave him looks that said don’t, run along, and surprisingly enough, Cas did. He had a feeling that Cas was probably just as curious as he was about this.

That being said, almost the first thing Dean did was run into Jack.

It wasn’t exactly difficult, seeing as the kid was prone to running into things. He had turned a corner, intending to go to Cas’ room, when Jack showed up with a gleeful smile.

“You’re back!”

Dean blinked at him. He knew Jack was child-like, but sometimes he acted so mature that Dean was sure he was at least a teenager. He wondered now how much of that was a front, and what Cas had done to make Jack look at him like he was the sun. Especially after what Jack had told him yesterday.

“I…am, yes. How are you?”

Jack’s eyes were still filled with adoration. “I’m good. I was watching Scooby-Doo reruns while you guys were gone. Can you tell me about the time you guys met Shaggy and Scooby, again?”

Dean’s heart turned soft, despite his… frustration with Jack for being so selfless and self-sacrificing. Like his dad. Well, like all of his dads.

“Maybe later, k—Jack. Bedtime story,” He promised. Dean tried for a smile, and Jack grinned.

“Okay. I love your bedtime stories,” Jack said. His smile suddenly faded. “By the way, are Sam and Dean…around?”

Dean took just a brief moment to process that Cas actually read the kid bedtime stories before nodding.

“Yes. They are. In the kitchen, I think.”

Did Cas talk like this, or was Dean worse than he thought at Cas impressions? It was at least enough to fool Jack, for now.

“You didn’t…tell them, right? About…”

Dean felt his insides twist. So this was what Cas had to do. Lie. Cas was doing a lot of that recently.

“No.”

“Good, because I was thinking, it’d be unfair of me to keep your secret if you didn’t keep mine. But, your secret is still safe with me, Cas.”

Jack patted his shoulder and left before Dean’s mind could catch up to what he was saying.

Secret? Another secret?

He tried to reign his rage back down to a place of balance. In this body, who knew what he could do if he let it all out. Blow up the bunker, probably.

The rest of the day was almost pointless after that. The one thing he did try, between his conversation with Jack and his sulking about Cas, was to get a glimpse of Cas’ wings in the mirror. But he couldn’t figure out how to see into whatever dimension Cas kept them, so Dean gave that up pretty quickly.

After dinner, he visited Cas where he was watching TV in Dean’s room and closed the door behind him.

Cas let out a breath of relief and sat up in Dean’s bed.

“Finally. I’ve had enough of this today. I’d forgotten what being human was like. It’s very…time consuming.”

Dean nodded once. He approached the bed until he was at the foot of it, knees touching the mattress.

“I know,” was his response.

Cas did the head tilt again. “Yes, I’d assume so. You are human every day of your life.”

“No, Cas. I mean, I know. About your secret.”

Cas stared at him. “How?”

“Jack…Jack told me. Well, actually, he told you. But either way, I know now. You’ve been keeping more secrets from us. Did you think we wouldn’t find out?”

Cas stood up then, but didn’t try to close the distance.

“Of course I knew you’d find out. But I thought….I thought we’d have more time. I’m not anywhere near happy enough yet, Dean. And with Jack…”

Dean turned the words over in his head. Happy? What the hell was he talking about?

“Cas…what are you going to do?”

He shut his mouth—Dean’s mouth—and Dean suddenly wished he had power over it again.

“Were you planning on leaving us again? Or worse, sacrificing yourself? After—after everything, after trading places, do you still think I’m not enough for you to want to stay?”

Dean’s heart pounded. He didn’t want to hear the answer, didn’t want to know what Cas had done. What Cas couldn’t tell him.

It seemed like his body mirrored his emotions, because Dean saw himself begin to cry.

“It was to save Jack. It… Dean, I couldn’t tell you. I couldn’t let you have yet another burden to bare because of me. And—and I did what you would have done.”

“What I would have done.”

“Yes,” Cas said. “At some point…Dean, at some point we switched. I’m not the man I was when you first met me. I am who I am thanks to you. So don’t blame me for taking a page out of your book.”

Switched, huh? Dean took a step forward, feeling bigger now, even though Cas’ body was shorter than his in height.

His emotions were barely being held together as it was by a thin piece of twine that he knew existed there because of Cas. Now it was like the twine was being pulled, and his voice was tight with the last strain of it, a final effort before he snapped.

“So switch back.”

[honeyhan-123]

Doctor Doctor

Summary: With a bullet in his arm, Bucky seeks medical attention and a certain surgeon catches his eye. 

Warnings: non-con, gun play (gun fucking), biker!Bucky, minor descriptions of blood and bullet wounds. 

Word Count: 3k

AN: This was written for the incredible and lovely @the-soulofdevil​ and her 500 follower writing challenge. Congrats gurl, I’m so proud. My prompt was a doctor au. Also, I’ve been watching wayyyyy to much Grey’s Anatomy, pls help me. 

Squares Filled: Biker!AU & Knife/Gun play

My Masterlist 

Exhaustion held your body captive as you dragged your feet, your eyes fluttering shut every few steps. Your entire body was sore, your neck cricked from looking down at the body on your operating table for so long and your hands were slightly cramping. The CABG surgery had taken far longer than you had expected, and now nothing was sounding better than going home, opening a bottle of sauvignon blanc and taking a long hot bath. 

You eyes the door for the stairs disdainfully. Deep down you knew you should take them. The attendings lounge was only two floors up but you were dead tired so instead, you plodded along to the elevator, jabbing the up button. Looking back on it you really should have taken the stairs.

The elevator finally dinged on your floor, the doors opening slowly and without even looking, you jumped inside. You only noticed the other occupant after the doors had slid closed. He was tall, impressively built, and his eyes were a stunning shade of cerulean blue. You hated yourself for wondering briefly if he was here visiting a girlfriend. 

However you could tell there was something off about him but, maybe that’s what attracted you. You had always had terrible taste in men. You could feel his body come closer, invading your personal space. A hand reached out to your name tag, his eyes flickering over it. 

‘A surgeon huh? So I guess you know your way around the body.’ 

‘Excuse me?’ The words were barely out of your mouth before he reached into the waist bands of his jeans, pulling a gun from it with one hand, his other pressing the shutdown button on the elevator panel.

‘I need you to do me a favour Doc. I need you to get this bullet out of my arm.’ You stared down the barrel of his glock, your mouth going dry as he continued to speak. ‘Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to press the start button and then the elevator doors will open. You’ll take me somewhere private and you’ll quietly and stealthily get whatever you need to get the fuckin’ bullet out of me. If you even think about calling for help I will blow the brains out of whoever is around. Clear?’ Your heart thudded like a hummingbird’s wings and the turtleneck underneath your scrubs felt far too tight around your throat. 

‘I said. Are we clear?’ He pressed the gun directly between your eyes, forcing the cool metal against your heated skin and you nodded. 

‘Yes.’ You barely managed to squeak out your assent.

‘Sir.’ He added for emphasis. 

‘Yes Sir. I understand.’ 

‘Good girl. Are you ready? And remember, if anyone dies, it’s your fault.’ You nodded once more and watched as he pressed the green start button, the elevator coming back to life. He stowed his gun back into the waistband of his jeans, sending you a look that clearly said he could whip it back out faster than you could scream. But his look was unneeded. You weren’t going to call for help. The people that worked at this hospital were like your family. There was no way you were going to risk any of their lives.

You lead him through various hallways, picking up an abandoned supply trolley as you went until you came across an empty patient room. You gestured for him to sit on the bed as you pulled on a gown and gloves before wheeling the stool over and sitting in front of him. 

He grunted in pain as he pulled his leather jacket off, his t-shirt following soon after. Under normal circumstances you would have cut the material away but seeing him in pain gave you a sick sense of glee. But as you stared at his now bare chest, any sense of joy quickly seeped from you, dread taking its place. It shouldn’t have been as much of a shock as it was to see the pitch black ink staring back at you. He had waved a gun in your face for crying out loud. But still, seeing the dark outline of a wolf on his chest sent a chill through you. Of course this man was a White Wolf. 

‘Scared of a little ink doc?’ The man before you teased a smirk taking over his plush pink lips.

‘Of course not Sir.’ You quipped back. It was only half a lie. You weren’t afraid of the tattoo itself, more of what it represented. You had seen far too many victims of the White Wolves over your time working at Seattle Grace Hospital. ‘I’m going to have to go in blind, I hope that’s okay as I assume you don’t want to be checked in?’ You asked even though you knew the answer you would get. 

‘Obviously.’ His voice was a monotone as he rolled his eyes, your hands sweeping over the blood surrounding the torn skin. The bullet didn’t seem to be too deep which was lucky for him. It would make extraction a lot easier. Once the site was clean you pulled over the IV kit, standing to attach the morphine to the drip before picking up the needle and making for his other arm. ‘No.’ He yanked his arm out of your grip with such force that you stumbled. 

‘Excuse me?’ You were confused as you sat back on the stool, the needle still in your hand. 

‘No drugs. Just get it out now.’ He pulled the needle from you, chucking it across the room as he did so.

‘I’m sorry sir but I have to insist. The drugs will help you stay still through the pain as I extract the bullet.’ No matter how much his pain earlier had helped ease your own you weren’t a sadist. 

‘I said no. I don’t want any drugs, I can handle the pain. Just get the fucking bullet out now.’ He growled and you submitted, scared that the commotion might attract unwanted visitors. Quickly you organised your tray and held the tweezers up to the bullet hole. 

To your surprise, the man barely flinched as you pressed the metal against the tender flesh, searching for the bronze bullet that you could barely make out. You had expected him to yield, allowing you to administer the painkillers but he barely reacted, the occasional hiss or grunt escaping his lips was the only sign he felt anything. 

Finally the bullet came free and there was a clink as you disposed of it in one of the metal bowls. Next you started working on patching him up. Some more blood had spilled from the wound as you had worked and he would definitely need stitches. As you worked you heard your parents voices echo around in your head, telling you horror stories of the White Wolves. 

The gang had been haunting Seattle since the early forties and were often used as bedtime stories told to young children to make sure they didn’t stay out too late. While you had taken your parents warnings seriously growing up, you had always thought they exaggerated the cruelty of the gang. Working in the hospital had changed your mind. Their cruelty was unparalleled and perhaps if you weren’t so afraid of what they would do to your family you might have thought about “accidentally” clipping his axillary artery. He would be dead within minutes but you knew the other Wolves would come around sniffing for answers. 

You struggled to keep your hands steady as you worked but finally you did the last stitch and bandaged his arm. ‘You’re going to have to wear a sling for next 4-6 weeks to make sure it heals properly and isn’t jolted around because you don’t want to be pulling your stitches. Also no strenuous exercise for at least two weeks and after then only light exercise such as going for a walk.’

‘What about fucking?’ Your lips parted involuntarily, shocked at how blatantly he had asked the question.  

‘Erm, well that would count as strenuous exercise but after the two week mark perhaps depending on umm… on how you… on your chosen, erm, position then it should be okay.’ You felt your cheeks heat in embarrassment. You talked about sex and other embarrassing topics all the time in post-care but something about the way his cerulean blue eyes were staring at you so intently had you stumbling over your words like a school girl. 

‘Hmmm… that’s a shame. If I had known this morning was going to be the last time for a while I would have made it something special.’ He mused to himself, his eyes drifting over your dark blue scrubs as you pulled off the gloves and gown. ‘But since I’m here, you could always fix me back up if something happened. Couldn’t you doc?’   

‘Excuse me?’ You asked in confusion, blood draining from your face as he got off the bed and began stalking towards you. You backed away quickly, your hands fumbling with the door as you tried to pull it open only to have his uninjured arm slam it back shut. He twisted your body around so your back was pressed against the wood, both his arms pinning you against the wall as he leaned in. 

‘I think you heard me doc. The same warnings apply. Scream and I’ll kill anyone who walks through that door.’ His breath tasted like cigarettes and his body was hot and hard against you. When you gulped and finally managed a nod, he pulled you from the door, bringing you back over to the bed, forcing you to lean over it. 

He pressed his growing bulge against your ass as he pulled your scrub top over your head, the pale blue turtleneck and your bra following soon after. You squirmed in his arms but despite his injury his grip was steel tight. He groaned against the shell of your ear as he palmed your breasts, kneading them until your nipples began to harden. His breath was hot and heavy against the skin of your neck as his hands moved lower, down to the waistband of your scrubs. He slipped one hand in underneath your panties and groaned out. 

‘Oh Doc, you’re already so wet for me.’ He breathed out and you shuddered against him, trying to squeeze your legs together as tightly as you could. He tutted you, pinching your ass through the scrubs. ‘Behave. You don’t want to know what happens to bad girls.’ You choked back your sob as you nodded and allowed him to push you back against the bed, Your chest resting on the cold sheets. He slipped your scrubs down your legs and continued to play with your clit, rubbing it harshly as you tried to force your body not to react. One hand grabbed both your wrists, pinning them both at the small of your back as he moved.

‘One thing I’ve learnt from girls like you is that you always need something inside of you to feel full don’t you?’ You felt him shift behind you and then suddenly something very cold brushed against your thigh. You struggled in his hold even harder, thrashing your body around the cool metal brushed against your heated lips. You didn’t have to see it to know what it was.

He swirled the barrel around, coating it in the slick that had involuntarily pooled along your lips. ‘No. No! Stop it! Get off of me.’ You tried to buck him off but his grip remained like iron, holding you down against the mattress with one hand as the other eased the barrel inside of you. You thrashed wildly as the cool metal juxtaposed the heat between your legs causing an odd sensation to form. 

You hated the way the edges of the gun moved against your walls, making you feel every tiny ridge in the metal. You hated the way your body was responding to it even more. 

You barely managed to hold back your moans as his pace picked up, becoming unrelenting. The urge to roll your hips back onto him had you shuddering with disgust. Your body shouldn’t be responding like this, it shouldn’t be enjoying it as much as it was. But you couldn’t help it anymore, not when he called you his good girl. Praising you for taking his gun so well. 

The moans started tumbling from your lips and soon enough the coil in your belly had snapped and you pulsated in his arms. Your body convulsed as he slowly edged you down from your high. 

‘See? That wasn’t so bad. I’ve always wanted to have a cunt on the end of my gun.’ You shivered at his words, your senses slowly coming back to you. ‘Here, taste yourself.’ He forced the metal by your face and you wanted to shrink away in disgust, yet the tone of his voice told you that wasn’t an option. Hesitantly, you moved your head towards it, licking a small stripe along the side, praying that was enough to satisfy him. ‘Not like that. Suck it like it's my cock.’ You shuddered and cringing inside, you angled your head to take it like he wanted, terrified that his finger would slip on the trigger. 

You forced yourself to slowly bob your head going up and down the gun’s length, his groans echoing in the room as he rubbed himself against you in time with your movements. Suddenly, the gun was gone and you heard the tell-tale clink of his buckle, the fly of his zipper following. 

‘Please you don’t have to do this. I won’t tell anyone, please.’ You could no longer hold back the tears and they fell onto the mattress beneath you, darkening the white sheets. 

‘I’m sorry Sweetheart, but that’s just not how the White Wolves work. You see, when we see something we want... ’ his face dipped down next to your ear as he whispered into it, ‘we take it.’ And with that he entered you with one long thrust. You cried out at the intrusion. Although you were shamefully wet, you hadn’t been prepared for the sheer size of him. ‘Oh fuck doc. Your pussy’s so fuckin’ tight.’ 

There was no gradual build up. Just straight hard fucking. His balls slapped against your ass as he rutted into you, his pace unforgiving. You screamed out underneath him as you felt one hand wrap around your thigh, circling your already sensitive clit. ‘That’s it sweetheart. That’s such a good girl.’ You moaned as his deep sensual voice penetrated your ears. 

You felt his grip on your hands loosen before it wrapped around your throat, pulling you up against his chest. He felt even deeper like this and your tears ran down your cheeks freely. You hated how every stroke of his cock made you shudder in the best way possible. 

Your hands clutched at his around your throat as black dots started to appear in your vision. Between how breathless you were from the fucking and the crying, it was no surprise that you were struggling to breathe. 

‘C'mon sweetheart. Scream my name for me. Let everyone know who’s fucking this pussy so right.’ He didn’t seem to care that you could barely breathe or that he hadn’t even bothered to give you his name so you choked a meager Sir. He seemed to realise his mistake as he grunted his name into your ear. 

‘Bucky….’ Your voice was hoarse. 

‘Louder.’ He growled and you repeated yourself. ‘Louder baby, louder.’ 

With air you didn’t know you had, you screamed his name for him, the waves of pleasure crashing inside of you reaching their peaks as you did. He groaned into your ear as he kept rutting, riding you out through your orgasm as your body collapsed back on the bed. He thrusted a few more times before hastily pulling out, his seed dripping down onto your ass as he moaned unashamedly. 

‘Well fuck doc. How was that for strenuous  activity?’ You couldn’t respond as he laughed, fabric rustling in the background as he dressed. ‘Didn’t even pull any stitches either.’ He mused to himself and you couldn’t bring yourself to move. Shame washed over you like a tidal wave, pinning you in place. 

You saw him walk around the bed, kneeling down as he came into view. ‘Get dressed.’ His voice was firm, leaving no room for argument, but still, you didn't move. ‘Fine. Stay like that and let the next guy who walks in see your wrecked cunt. Like I give a shit.’ It was only at his brusque words and the reminder that this is in fact your workplace that you finally stood sorely. Your hands reached up to brush away the tears on your cheeks and you see him fiddling with your phone that had been in your pants pockets as you dress. 

‘What are you doing?’ You barely manage to get the words out. 

‘Just getting your number. You never know when having a doctor on call will be handy in my line of work.’ You tried to hide your scoff and failed. 

‘Your line of work? You mean terrorising the streets of Seattle.’ You have no idea where this fire has come from and if you knew better you would have definitely kept your mouth shut.

‘No, I mean running a multi-million dollar enterprise.’ You gulp, swallowing thicky as he stands his chest nearly touching yours. 

‘Running?’ You question, even though you’re not sure you quite want his answer. 

‘Yeah sweetheart. Running.’ His hands lift up and he slides your phone back into your chest pocket. And with a wink sent your way he slips out from the room, leaving you with a sense of dread for the next time your phone will ring. 

+

Tags will be added in a reblog

My Masterlist

[sohotthateveryonedied]

We Dream in the Dark, for the Most Part

Read here on AO3!

Summary:

Jason is in the middle of lathering his hair with shampoo when suddenly the lights go out, leaving him in darkness. An instinctive chill runs down his spine, only to be replaced with annoyance. Of course. Beyond the shower spray, he can hear Lian shriek in fear, followed by Roy muttering curses.

Jason sighs. “Roy?” he calls.

“Handling it!”

It was a grueling patrol, but Jason is relieved to be home. He missed having Roy by his side tonight, but their usual babysitter, Mrs. Peterson from next door, came down with pneumonia yesterday and canceled. She doesn’t seem to have any idea that her neighbors are vigilantes, but they pay her enough that she doesn’t ask. Lian is coloring at the coffee table while Jason toes off his boots, leaving them at the front door. She’s wearing her fluffy Stitch pajamas, which she’s been practically living in for the last week and a half. “Hey, princess.” Jason drops a kiss on top of her head as he passes. “Where’s your dad?” “In the kitchen. He’s playing with the electricity again.” “Oh, good. Because, you know, I was actually hoping our place would explode, just to spice things up.” Lian giggles. “Has he fed you yet?” She shakes her head, her black pigtails swinging back and forth. “Nope. But he promised me special sushi if I cleaned up all my books.” Jason will never understand Lian’s passion for her “special sushi,” which is just deli ham slathered in strawberry yogurt and rolled up like a spring roll from hell. Jason gets nauseated just thinking about it, but the kid loves the stuff. “And did you clean up?” Lian points over at the bookshelf against the wall. They don’t have a huge apartment by any means, but Jason insisted on dedicating an entire wall to his books. That was one of the conditions when Roy first asked Jason to move in with him and Lian. It took weeks of finagling to convince Jason to relinquish a small section of the bookshelf for Lian’s picture books, which are indeed all in their right places. “Then it looks like you’ve earned your sushi, little miss. I’m gonna shower first and then I’ll make it for you, alright?” “I can make it by myself.” Jason snorts. “After what happened last time? I don’t think so.” It was his own fault for thinking a five-year-old could prepare her own food. It took a solid hour to scrub the yogurt stains out of the carpet. Jason pokes his head in the kitchen on his way to the bathroom. “Tell me you’re not burning the building down.” “Okay, then I’m not burning the building down,” Roy says around the screwdriver trapped between his teeth. He stands in front of what was once a light switch, tinkering with something that he most definitely should not be tinkering with, but Jason is picking his battles today.

“I’m not going to bother telling you that you’re on your second strike with the landlord. If he has to come up here again, I’m not defending you.” “You know what I miss? The old days when people would greet each other by saying things like, ‘hi, sweetie, how was your day?’ ‘Oh, it was lovely, darling. How about a kiss after spending hours apart and missing each other dearly?’ ‘Babe, it’s like you read my mind!’ You know, stuff like that?” Jason arches an eyebrow. “I’ve got mobster blood caked in my hair. Still want a hello kiss?” “Not really, no. Go shower.” “Try not to blow a fuse in the meantime, please.” Roy salutes with his screwdriver. “Aye, aye, captain.” Jason goes to the bathroom and relishes in the feeling of peeling off his armor and the bodysuit underneath, every layer soaked with sweat and blood. It’s a good thing his Red Hood getup is all dark colors, or he’d have scarred Lian for life ten times over already. He turns the shower knob as hot as it’ll go, letting his muscles slowly unravel under the spray. He takes his time scrubbing off the blood and dirt, whistling some shitty pop song that Dick paid Barbara to blast through the comms all. Night. Long. Jason has plans to add that to his repertoire of torture techniques if he ever needs some extra edge. It’s definitely effective. Jason is in the middle of lathering his hair with shampoo when suddenly the lights go out, leaving him in darkness. An instinctive chill runs down his spine, only to be replaced with annoyance. Of course. Beyond the shower spray, he can hear Lian shriek in fear, followed by Roy muttering curses. Jason sighs. “Roy?” he calls. “Handling it!” Another sigh. This is what he gets for leaving Roy alone. It’s Jason’s own fault, really. He quickly rinses the shampoo from his hair and leaves the bathroom, and towel wrapped around his waist. He navigates the pitch black apartment and finds Roy lighting a match in the kitchen. He’s got Lian tucked in one arm. “What did I say?” Jason asks. “I know, I know—” “I said not to blow a fuse. That was your one job.” “Technically, I didn’t blow a fuse. I just overloaded the circuit and cut off the electricity for the whole building.” Jason smacks himself in the forehead. “Wonderful.” Remind him again why he’s in love with this man? “I’m sure it’ll be fixed in no time.” “You can’t see it, but I’m rolling my eyes.” “You’re overreacting. It’s just a little blackout.” “We have ice cream in the freezer.” “I’ll buy more.” Jason runs a hand through his wet hair. “You’re killing me, babe. Again.” “It’s just one night without power, right? I’m sure it’ll come back on in the morning.” He bounces Lian a little, who’s got her face buried in Roy’s neck. Poor thing is terrified of the dark. “What do you think, pumpkin? You think you can be brave for one little night in the dark?” “I don’t like it. It’s scary.” “I know it is, sweetheart. But do you want to know a secret?” He leans in close to her ear, mock-whispering, “Jaybird over here is afraid of the dark too.” Lian looks at Jason with wide eyes. “Really?” Roy nods. “Yep. But you know what? He’s so brave and strong that he overcame that fear and now it hardly bothers him anymore. Do you think you can be brave like that?” “I can be super brave.” “That’s my girl. Not, sit here for a minute, ‘kay?” He sets her down on the arm of the sofa. The match has fizzled out by now, leaving them in complete darkness. “I know I have some scented candles around here somewhere. Dinah keeps getting them as gifts and pushes them on me when she doesn’t like them.” Jason’s eyes widen. “Wait, watch out for the—” Roy trips with a shout, glass shattering as he falls. “—coffee table.” Roy just groans in response. “Hang on, let me get a light.” Jason makes his way to the drawer they keep the emergency flashlight in. He turns on the beam to show Roy on the floor, surrounded by glass shards and clutching his leg. There are several small cuts peppering his knee like he crawled on a beach made of broken bottles. Jason gasps. “Oh my god, Roy! You broke Lian’s crayons!” Roy flips him off, angling his hand so Lian can’t see. “I’m fine, thanks for asking.” Jason helps him up and hands him the flashlight. “Lian, honey, will you help him get to the couch? I need to put some clothes on.” And he’s almost positive there’s another flashlight somewhere in Roy’s nightstand. They’re going to need all the light they can get. Jason gets dressed and retrieves the flashlight, plus one of Lian’s Disney princess glow sticks. When he returns, Roy is on the couch with his leg propped up on what remains of their coffee table. Lian is shining the flashlight on her tiny first-aid kit which Kori gave her last Christmas. She sifts through her collection of band-aids. “One to ten?” “Barely a two,” Roy says. “I already dug the glass out, and none were deep enough to need stitches.” Jason checks him over anyway, just to be sure. He wipes away the blood and applies some ointment over the cuts. He turns to Lian when he’s finished. “Can I trust you to finish this up while I make dinner?” She nods enthusiastically. Perfect. Lian can keep herself busy plastering Roy in Hello Kitty bandages, and Jason will have time to figure out what the hell they’re doing, food-wise. “How do you expect to make dinner without electricity?” Roy asks, reading his mind yet again. “What, did you never have to eat cold leftover pizza in your million-dollar mansion growing up? Weird.” He dodges the pillow Roy throws his way, laughing. “Those jokes don’t count when you also grew up in a million-dollar mansion.” Thirty minutes later and the three of them are sitting on the couch, Roy and Jason eating cold mushroom casserole while Lian enjoys her ham and yogurt. Once you get over the temperature difference, cold casserole turns out to be just as tasty as hot casserole. Gordon Ramsey should take notes. Jason managed to track down the candles Roy was talking about earlier and set them in various places around the living room, lighting the room in a dim glow. It’s not perfect lighting by any means—not even good lighting, really, but at least no one will be falling into another coffee table anytime soon. Roy’s knee is covered in Hello Kitty band-aids, some of which are in spots that weren’t even cut up by the glass. Roy doesn’t seem to mind. Jason took a picture for potential blackmail reasons. “I’m bored,” Lian says after a while. “You could always go to bed,” Roy suggests, “given that your bedtime was fifteen minutes ago but your daddies are nice enough to let you stay up this long.” “That was nice of us,” Jason agrees. “I think we’ve earned a quiet night to ourselves.” Lian pouts. She grabs Jason’s arm, clinging to his bicep like a koala. “But it’s dark in my room.” “It’s dark in there every night.” “It’s really dark tonight. Can I stay here with you instead?” Her eyes are big and innocent, perfectly disguising the mischief lurking within. This girl could be a successful con artist one day. (Not that Jason or Roy will ever let that happen. She’s going to grow up and become a veterinarian or something equally harmless.) Roy and Jason meet eyes, having a silent conversation over Lian’s head. Finally, Roy sighs. “Fine. You can stay up with us a little longer, but only because of the blackout, okay? Don’t go thinking that this trick is going to work tomorrow night.” Lian claps her hands, bouncing in her seat. “Can I have coffee?” “Absolutely not.” She isn’t deterred in the slightest. “This is gonna be so fun! We can stay up all night long, even past midnight and three o’clock which is when the ghosts come out.” “Ghosts, huh?” Jason says. “Yeah, Aunt Stephanie told me all about it! Three o’clock is when the witching hour happens and witches and ghosts come out like Bloody Mary and Freddie Cougar and they call come into your house and walk around but you can only see them if you’re awake, which I’m gonna be because I’m not even tired, I could stay up all night long and for a million, bazillion years, and—” She lasts seven minutes. Lian is fast asleep now with her head in Roy’s lap, her tiny feet dangling off the arm of the sofa. Jason drapes a blanket over her, kissing her on the forehead. He’s careful not to jostle Roy’s bandaged leg as he takes a seat beside him, putting his arm around Roy’s shoulders. “Well, I’m fucking exhausted.” “It’s cool if you want to go to bed,” Roy says. “I don’t mind sticking around here with Lian until the power comes back on.” “Nah, it’s fine. I like it better in here, anyway.” In here, where the light is. Roy doesn’t comment on the hidden meaning that he definitely catches on to, and Jason loves him for it. He just kisses Jason’s cheek, settling against his side. Jason doesn’t mention the darkness thing often. Or at all. After all, grown men don’t get scared of the dark—especially when they live in a place like Gotham and were raised in a literal cave. But if Lian insists on having the hallway light on in addition to the night light next to her bed, then Jason isn’t about to discourage her. Roy never says a word about it. Every night he keeps the door to his and Jason’s bedroom cracked open just enough so a sliver of hallway light floods in, and it’s good for both of them, really. Jason feels safer with the light on, and they both feel safer being able to hear every creak and draft in the apartment, falling asleep knowing that nothing will sneak up on them. Even when Jason was living on his own, post-resurrection, he always kept a lamp on when he went to sleep in whichever safehouse he was squatting in that night. Back before he had a place to call home. On especially bad nights, he would turn on the lights in every single room, even the one in the microwave. Only then could he sleep soundly. He can’t exactly do that now, but he doesn’t need to. Whenever his head gets too heavy to bear, he’ll simply wrap his arms around Roy and fall back asleep to the sound of Roy’s heart beating under his ear. He falls back asleep in minutes. Jason isn’t entirely sure what caused the light issue in the first place. Sometimes he can’t remember if it arose before or after he was adopted by Bruce. Other times he’s sure it’s lingering trauma from the coffin, from waking up in pitch blackness six feet underground. No bearings, no sense of what was happening or where he was. The only thing in there with him was the thick, cloying darkness on every side of him. Jason shivers just thinking about it. “We should get her a new night light,” he says. “Battery powered, not a plug-in. It would be a good investment if you ever try destroying our electricity again.” Roy hums. “We can pick one up tomorrow. I need to take her clothes shopping anyway. And it might be a good idea to have a couple for the living room and bathroom so we don’t have a repeat of tonight.” “Good idea.” God, Jason’s craving a cigarette right now. Every nerve in his body urges him to get one and soothe the anxiety buzzing in his brain, but he has a rule against smoking in the apartment or anywhere near Lian. He’d settle for a beer instead, whatever keeps the buzzing at bay, but he doesn’t drink at home either out of respect for Roy’s sobriety. He’s stuck. Roy must notice Jason’s twitching fingers because he reaches into his pocket, careful not to wake Lian as he pulls out a stick of nicotine gum. “Here.” Jason unwraps the gum and shoves it in his mouth. He takes a deep breath in as he chews, letting it out slowly. It takes the edge off some, but not completely. Still, it’s better than nothing. “You’re just carrying these on you now?” "Came in handy, didn't it?" “And I thought Bruce was the king of being prepared for everything.” Jason straightens the wrapper until it’s flat like a card. He holds it over the nearest candle until it catches, watching the flame consume the paper, eating away at its edges. He blows it out just before it gets too close to his fingers. “When I was a kid,” he says after a minute, “my mom and I used to light candles like these. The heat would get turned off pretty often since she was usually too high to remember what day it was, let alone when the bills needed to be paid. But whenever it happened, she would send me to the store with a couple dollars and I’d buy a bag of marshmallows. We’d roast them over the candles and pretend we were camping.” “That sounds nice.” “It was. I mean, now I realize that it’s actually really fucking sad that we had to resort to candles ‘cause my mom wasted all her cash on drugs and couldn’t pay the heating bill. But at the time, it was nice. It’s one of the few good memories I have of that time.” He feels more than sees Roy’s fingers lacing through his own, clasping their hands together. “I was telling the truth earlier, you know. You’re brave and strong and badass all the way.” Jason snorts. “Even if I get freaked out every time the lights go out?” Roy doesn’t laugh with him. “Yeah, even then. And you know why?” He rests his head on Jason’s shoulder, lets Jason feel his warmth. “Because of all the things to be afraid of, you picked the one that can be fixed by just turning the lights on. Once you do that, there’s nothing left in the world that can scare you. And that’s pretty damn badass if you ask me.”

[babywinkz]

The Four Month Sleep Regression

The Four Month Sleep Regression

As a professional sleep consultant, I hear the term “regression” used in regards to just about every imaginable circumstance.

Essentially, if your baby doesn’t sleep well for a couple of nights, parents start dropping the ‘R’ word.

Some people subscribe to the idea that there’s an eight month regression, a 9 month regression, a 1 year regression, as well as teething regressions, growth spurt regressions, and so on.

Others see these as simple hiccups caused by extenuating circumstances.

Is There Such a Thing as Four Month Sleep Regression?

But the four-month regression, everybody agrees on, and for good reason. It’s the real deal, and it’s permanent.

So to understand what’s happening to your baby during this stage, first, you need to know a few things about sleep in general. So here’s the science part, told in plain English.

Many of us just think of sleep as an on-or-off situation.

You’re either asleep or you’re not.

Sleep Cycle in Plain English

But sleep actually has a number of different stages, and they make up the “sleep cycle,” which we go through several times a night.

STAGE 1 – Initial Stage

Stage 1 is that initial stage we’re all familiar with where you can just feel yourself drifting off, but don’t really feel like you’ve fallen asleep.

Anyone who has ever seen their partner nodding off in front of the TV told them to go to bed, and gotten the canned response of, “I wasn’t sleeping!” knows exactly what this looks like.

STAGE 2 – True Sleep

Stage 2, which is considered the first “true sleep” stage. This is where people tend to realize, once woken up, that they actually were sleeping. For anyone taking a “power nap,” this is as deep as you want to go, or else you’re going to wake up groggy.

STAGE 3 – Deep and Regenerative

Stage 3 is deep and regenerative. Also known as “slow wave” sleep, this is where the body starts repairing and rejuvenating the immune system, muscles tissue, energy stores, and sparks growth and development.

STAGE 4 – REM (rapid eye movement

Stage 4 is REM (rapid eye movement) sleep. This is where the brain starts to kick in and consolidates information and memories from the day before. It’s also the stage where we do most of our dreaming.

Once we’ve gone through all of the stages, we either wake up or come close to waking up and then start over again until the alarm goes off.

So what does this have to do with the dreaded regression we were talking about originally?

Well, newborn babies only have 2 stages of sleep; stage 3 and REM, and they spend about half their sleep in each stage.

But at around the third or fourth month, there is a reorganization of sleep, as they embrace the 4-stage method of sleep that they’ll continue to follow for the rest of their lives.

When this change takes place, baby moves from 50% REM sleep to 25% in order to make room for those first two stages.

So although REM sleep is light, it’s not as light as these 2 new stages that they’re getting used to, and with more time spent in lighter sleep, there’s more of a chance that baby’s going to wake up.

Waking Up Is Normal During Sleep

That’s not to say that we want to prevent or avoid baby waking up.

Waking up is absolutely natural, and we continue to wake up three, four, five times a night into adulthood and even more in old age.

As adults, however, we’re able to identify certain comforting truths that baby might not be privy to.

When we wake in the night, we’re able to recognize that,

“Hey, I’m here in my bed, it’s still nighttime, my alarm isn’t going to go off for another three hours, and I’m reasonably certain that there are no monsters lurking under my bed. I can go back to sleep”

And we do. Usually so quickly that, the next morning, we don’t even remember the brief encounter with consciousness.

A four month old baby, of course, lacks these critical thinking skills.

To a four month old baby who fell asleep at her mother’s breast, the reasoning could go much more to the tune of,

“OK, last thing I remember, there was a familiar, beloved face, I was having dinner, and someone was singing me a soothing song about the Teddy Bears’ Picnic. Now I’m alone in this dark room, there’s no food, and there’s probably at least three, possibly four, scary monsters in the immediate vicinity.”

That’s probably an exaggeration, but who knows what goes on in the mind of a four month-old baby?

Understanding Four Month Sleep Regression

Anyways, now that baby’s suddenly realized that Mamma’s not around, and they’re not entirely sure where they’ve gone, the natural response is to do a little freaking out.

That stimulates the fight-or-flight response and, next thing you know, baby’s not going back to sleep without a significant amount of reassurance that everything is OK.

The other major contributor to this 4 month fiasco.

I find, is that up until this point, parents have either been putting their baby to sleep with a pacifier, or by rocking them, or by breastfeeding them, or some similar technique where baby is helped along on the road to falling asleep.

Sleep Associations Don’t Help In the Long Term

Now that baby’s spending more time in light sleep, and therefore has a higher probability of waking up, this suddenly becomes a much bigger issue.

These sleep props or sleep associations can be very sneaky indeed.

Because although they may be helpful in getting your little one to that initial nodding off stage, the lack of them when they wake up means that baby’s not able to get back to sleep again without some outside help.

Cue the fight-or-flight, the crying, and the adrenaline.

When this starts happening every half an hour, parents can find themselves in a nightmarish situation.

So, the good news for anyone experiencing the dreaded Four Month Sleep Regression is that it’s not, in fact, a regression at all.

What is Regression?

A regression is defined as “reversion to an earlier mental or behavioural level,” and that’s actually the opposite of what your baby is experiencing.

This would be much more aptly titled the “Four Month Sleep Progression.”

So, onto the big question.

What can you do to help your little one adjust?

First off, get all of that light out of baby’s room.

I’m not kidding around here. You might think that baby’s room is dark enough, or that baby might not like the dark, and that it’s comforting to have a little bit of light coming through the windows or seeping in from the hallway.

Nope.

1 – Eliminate All Light

Baby’s room should be dark, I mean coal mine on a moonless night kind of dark.

Tape bin bags over the windows if you have to, or cover them with tinfoil. (Just be prepared to explain it to the police when the neighbours accuse you of running a grow-op.)

Newborns and infants are not afraid of the dark.

They are, however, responsive to light. Light tells their brains that it’s time for activity and alertness, and the brain secretes hormones accordingly, so we want to keep that nursery absolutely pitch black during naps and bedtime.

2 – Eliminate All Noise

The other nemesis of daytime sleep, (and nighttime for that matter, although not nearly as often) is noise.

Whether its UPS ringing the doorbell, the dog warning you that the squirrels are back and for sure going to attack the house this time, or something falling on the floor three rooms away.

With baby spending more time in lighter sleep, noises will startle them easily and wake them up, so a white noise machine is a great addition to your nursery.

“Wait, isn’t that a prop,” you’re asking. Well, in a way, it is, but it doesn’t require any winding, resetting, reinserting, or parental presence. It’s just there and it can be on as long as baby’s sleeping, so it’s not a prop we need to avoid.

3 – Create Bedtime Routine

Bedtime routines are also an essential component to getting your baby sleeping well.

Try to keep the routine to about 4 or 5 steps, and don’t end it with a feed. Otherwise, you risk baby nodding off at the breast or the bottle, and that will create the dreaded “association” that we talked about earlier.

So try to keep the feed near the beginning of the routine and plan the songs, stories, and getting into PJs towards the end.

The whole process should be about 20 – 30 minutes long, and the baby should go into their cot while they’re still awake.

If you’re noticing your baby getting fussy before bedtime, you’ve probably waited too long. Four month old babies should only be going about two hours between snoozes, and bedtime should be between 7 and 8 at night.

We Aren’t Perfect – Baby Growth Plays a Role

Now, there are going to be regressions, actual regressions, later on in your little one’s youth. Travelling, illness, cutting teeth, all of these things can cause your little one to have a few bad nights in a row.

But when it comes to the four month “progression,” I’m happy to report that this is a one-time thing. Once you’re through this, your baby will have officially moved into the sleep cycle that they’ll essentially be following for the rest of their life.

Four glorious stages repeated multiple times a night.

Give Your Little One a Gift

And by taking this opportunity to teach them the skills they need to string those sleep cycles together, independently, prop-free, without any need for nursing, rocking, or pacifiers, you’ll have given them a gift that they’ll enjoy for the rest of their young lives.

Of course, some kids are going to take to this process like a fish to water, and some are going to be a little more resistant.

If yours falls into the former category, count yourself as lucky, take delight in your success, and go ahead and gloat about it on Facebook.

For those of you in the latter camp, I’m happy to help in any way I can.

Just visit my website or give me a call and we can work on a more personalized program for your little one.

The most common thing I hear after working with clients is,

“I can’t believe I waited so long to get some help!”

So if you’re considering hiring a consultant, now is absolutely the time.

I offer a free 15 minute evaluation so I can get to know the specifics about your little one’s situation, so book a call now and we can move forward as soon as you’re ready to get your little one sleeping through the night!

Read next >>>

Helping your baby to sleep – NHS

Is This the Right Time To Sleep Train?

Is Sleep Training Safe

Thank you so much for reading, please comment below if you have any questions.