#what do you do for a bedtime routine if you have one?? what soothes your soul before bedtime??

[125storejuice]

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[gloomwitchwrites]

Hi you beautiful person, I'd like to send in a request for the 1k Follower Celebration 😊 I'd leek to read about the CoD men and sllep positions with a chubby reader. I always imagine Price cuddles when I can't fall asleep, how his beard would tickle, how he'd stroke my hair aside to give me a forehead kiss and sternly tell me to fall asleep. Or maybe falling asleep on top of Soaps muscles and listening to his heartbeat, or watch Gaz do a face cleanse before snuggling. Or lying next to a stiff and unmoving Ghost just to wake up with him curled around me *sigh* T'is would be the dream.

Thanks so much, love ☺️

Oh, you absolute sweetheart, thank you so much! I love this prompt so much! And with a chubby reader? Yes! We need more representation in that regard. I hold all my weight in my hips, thighs, and butt, and it makes me so self-conscious all the time. Maybe that’s why I always dive into scenarios like your prompt and imagine being loved and appreciated for what I have. In a way, you’ve already answered the prompt a bit, but I will absolutely add to it. Thank you for sending this prompt in! I appreciate you so much!! <3

I did keep some of the descriptions vague so that readers of all shapes and sizes can see themselves snuggled up with any of the 141!

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

1k follower event rules

Word Count: 813

There are some suggestive themes in this, so, per that warning, MDNI

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // 1k follower event masterlist

John Price

John loves to cuddle. He loves touching you. He loves being close. Doesn’t matter if you can’t sleep or he can’t, John needs to be touching you. It’s almost an impulse to do so. The moment you or him slips under the sheets, John is reaching out, his large hands grasping, dragging you against him.

John will always be big spoon.

With you wrapped up in his arms, there is nothing sweeter. His beard his prone to scratching your skin but you don’t care. What matters is how he can make you feel. If you can’t sleep, John will do everything in his power to soothe you through gentle words, soft touches, and even softer kisses. There is only intimacy with no intention of initiating anything. He only wants you to be comfortable.

If John is struggling to sleep, all he needs is for you to curl up against him, and to run his hands over your body. He loves squeezing your thighs and hips, running his hands up and down your legs. He only wants his hands full of you, to know that you’re with him. It grounds him. Makes him calm.

That is how John likes to fall asleep. Upon waking, he might shift a bit, but he’s still touching you.

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

More like Kyle “Skincare Routine” Garrick. This guy loves routine and he wants to do routine with you before bed. While a his and her bathroom sink setup is lovely, he prefers one sink and mirror just because he doesn’t want to be far from you. Face cleanse? Got it. Hydrating mask? Can do. Doesn’t matter as long as he does it with you.

Kyle also enjoys a shower before bed and will often pull you in with him just to have some intimacy. It’s not necessarily for sexual reasons, but to just spend a little extra time with you that he doesn’t always get during the day.

Where John is a full on cuddler, Kyle likes more of a snuggle, and prefers being little spoon. He loves feeling your cheek pressed to his back and your arms around him. Kyle is quick to hold your hand and kiss your knuckles before the two of you drift off.

John “Soap” MacTavish

Soap wants you as the blanket.

He doesn’t need the comforter, a weighted blanket, or any of the bedsheets. He only wants you draped over him at bedtime. Your warmth and body pressed against him is soothing.

Soap prefers it if you’re both naked during bed. Skin against skin is what he loves best. Again, it’s not always a sexual thing (although he totally takes advantage when he can) but an intimacy thing. He wants you almost on top of him, cheek pressed against his chest, to feel your heartbeat along with this. Soap wants to be able to rub your back and kiss the top of your head.

As much as it is for him, it is also for you. It provides a sense of safety and comfort. While the muscles can be a bit hard to lay on, Soap does have some softness in his chest and stomach. Yes, he is all muscle, but his body is built from years in the field. This isn’t a gym rat body. This is pure strength and protection. Even if you’re the blanket, there is something comforting about it.

However, by morning, the two of you are significantly shifted. Might still be snuggled up but likely no longer a blanket.

Simon “Ghost” Riley

Ghost is a boulder. I truly believe this man is a stiff, unmoving board at bedtime. He gets into bed and is asleep almost immediately. Ghost is the kind of guy that could fall asleep anywhere and everywhere on command.

Ghost also as a habit of either going to bed before you or after you. It’s not habit more like it depends on the day he’s had. If he’s the one who is in bed first, this man is an unmoving rock. He also spreads out which makes attempting to move him even worse. So, you end up curling up around his unmoving form.

On the opposite side of this, when Ghost goes to bed after you’ve already fallen asleep, he does his best not to wake you. When he slides into bed beside you, he might brush your hair out of your face or admire you for a bit before settling in beside you.

However, in the mornings, Ghost is always curled around you, one arm draped over your waist and curled under your stomach to keep you snuggled against his body. You never know when he does that in the middle of the night, and Ghost never knows when he does it either. It just happens in his sleep, like his body craves you and simply needs to pressed close.

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[p0orbaby]

Forty Winks Would Be Just Priceless

summary: your kid only sleeps when being driven, the diva that she is

warnings: none !

a/n: if someone could drive me around to get to sleep that would be great

word count: 1.7k

-

It’s 2:47 a.m., and you’re sitting in the passenger seat of a car that you didn’t even know Leah could operate at this level of exhaustion. You’re wondering if she’s siphoning energy directly from the Devil, because that’s the only explanation. The car smells like a combination of McDonald’s fries, stale coffee, and something unidentifiable that you’re hoping isn’t some sort of roadkill under the bonnet. Your wife is behind the wheel, white-knuckling it like she’s doing 90 on the M25. In reality, she’s going 15 miles per hour around your parish.

Again.

“Is this the fifth lap or the sixth?” you ask. You’ve lost count. Somewhere around lap three, you started dissociating. The glow of the streetlights is the only indication you’re still on Earth.

“Does it matter?” Leah responds, glancing over at you with an arched eyebrow that you recognise as the look she gives opponents who try to muscle her off the ball. Leah has three moods: sweet, commanding, and “I could end you without lifting a finger.” You’re currently dealing with the third. The funny part is, she’s only this intimidating when she’s wearing a hoodie over her messy hair, dark circles framing her bloodshot eyes, which she insists is the result of “just a little” caffeine.

You eye her warily. “Maybe not,” you admit, slumping lower into the seat. You glance over your shoulder into the backseat, where Eden, your two-year-old sleep terrorist, has finally succumbed to the soothing vibrations of the Mercedes. Eden’s head is lolling to one side, mouth slightly open, and you’re just about convinced she’s auditioning to be the next exorcism case.

Leah’s been driving for about an hour now. You’re on your third consecutive night of the same routine: dinnertime is war, bath time is a ceasefire, and bedtime is a full-blown, special-ops mission with all the difficulty of invading a heavily guarded country. Eden has the upper hand. Eden is always ten steps ahead. And the only way to win is to retreat—to the car.

“I feel like we should get a second car,” you suggest, half-serious. “One specifically for these midnight missions. Maybe something with better fuel efficiency”

Leah gives you a side-eye that says, “You’re joking, right?” But you can tell she’s considering it. “Or we could teach her to fall asleep like a normal child. In her bed. At bedtime”

You snort. “Teach her? Are we raising a human or a feral cat?”

Leah doesn’t even have to respond to that. Eden is a force of nature. You’re just two unfortunate souls caught in her tiny hurricane.

“And what do we do when she grows out of this?” Leah asks, but it’s more like she’s thinking out loud. “Do we drive her to school every day just to get her to wake up?”

“Let’s just worry about surviving the next hour,” you say, looking at the clock. You remember reading somewhere that car exhaust fumes can lull a person to sleep. You briefly wonder if that’s what’s happening to you right now.

Leah clicks her tongue in thought, turning onto the next street, where a dog that clearly suffers from some kind of psychological trauma is barking at nothing. “When I was little,” she begins, “my mum would drive me around to get me to sleep, but we lived in the countryside. There were no barking dogs, just the occasional sheep”

“Well, that’s why you turned out so well-adjusted,” you remark dryly. “If Eden grows up thinking the only way to fall asleep is to go for a drive, she’s going to need therapy. Which we can’t afford, by the way, because we’ll be spending all our money on petrol”

Leah chuckles, but it’s the kind of laugh that’s a little too high-pitched to be real. “We’ll add it to the list of things she’ll blame us for when she’s older. Right next to ‘Mum used to make me eat vegetables’ and ‘Mama never let me play with knives’”

Eden lets out a little snore, and you both freeze, staring at the rearview mirror. Leah’s foot hovers over the brake pedal as if any sudden movement might wake the tiny monster in the back. You can practically hear both of you holding your breath, waiting for the inevitable cry of protest that’s sure to come the second the car stops moving.

But it doesn’t come. Instead, Eden’s snore deepens, becoming the kind of sleep sounds that suggest she’s off in dreamland, probably riding unicorns or setting fire to imaginary villages.

You relax a fraction, and so does Leah, though she’s still gripping the wheel like it’s her last lifeline. You wonder if she’s ever used this level of concentration on the pitch. You’ve never seen her miss a tackle, but this is an entirely different ball game.

“So, when do we stop?” Leah whispers. You can hear the exhaustion in her voice now, thick and sludgy like she’s been awake for a week.

You consider this. “We could keep driving until sunrise. Then she’ll wake up with the sun and think it’s a new day. Maybe it’ll reset her sleep schedule”

“Or we’ll just be perpetually exhausted and still sleep-deprived, except now we’ve got morning traffic to deal with,” Leah counters. “You know, if we were living in a different era, this could be considered some form of witchcraft. Driving around in circles at night to get a child to sleep. Someone would’ve burned us at the stake by now”

“Wouldn’t that be a relief,” you mutter, then immediately regret it, because even though you’re joking, you’re too tired to be sure.

Leah sighs. “I love her. I really do. But sometimes I wonder if we’re the ones being trained here”

“There’s no wonder about it,” you reply, deadpan. “We’re definitely the ones being trained. She’s got us figured out. We’re puppets. Eden pulls the strings, and we drive”

Leah smiles at that, though it’s more of a grimace of acknowledgment. “You know, when I said I’d do anything for her, I didn’t realise it included nighttime rally racing in a residential neighborhood”

“Should’ve read the fine print,” you say, then yawn so hard it hurts. “But hey, at least we’re doing this together, right? Quality time”

Leah glances over at you, and this time, her smile is real. It’s small, but it’s there, and it makes you feel a little less like a zombie. “Yeah,” she agrees softly. “I wouldn’t want to do this with anyone else”

You reach over and squeeze her hand, and for a moment, there’s peace. Not the kind of peace you’ll ever find in a parenting book or one of those sanctimonious mommy blogs, but the kind that exists in the trenches, where you and Leah are currently wading through knee-deep toddler warfare.

As you turn onto yet another street that looks identical to the last, you finally admit defeat. “Let’s call it,” you say. “She’s out. If we keep going, we’re going to end up in Scotland”

“Good idea,” Leah says, already beginning the slow process of easing off the gas and pulling into your driveway. She parks with the kind of precision that makes you think she missed her calling as a getaway driver.

You both sit there for a minute, basking in the silence that only comes when your child is finally, blessedly asleep. You’re in no rush to move, because you know the second you do, Eden will sense it and all this work will be undone in a matter of seconds.

But Leah is braver than you. She quietly turns off the engine, unbuckles her seatbelt, and with the precision of a bomb squad technician, she turns to the backseat. You watch as she gingerly unbuckles Eden, cradling her like she’s made of porcelain.

And somehow, miraculously, Eden stays asleep. Leah manages to get out of the car, Eden still snoozing in her arms, and you’re right behind her, ready to perform the hand-off should things go south.

The two of you tiptoe through the house like burglars, careful to avoid every creaky floorboard. You’re halfway to Eden’s room when she stirs, and you both freeze in place like deer caught in headlights. But then she just shifts in Leah’s arms, sighs deeply, and snuggles closer into her mother’s shoulder.

You finally reach the cot, and Leah lowers her in with the gentleness of a saint. The transfer is seamless. Eden doesn’t even flinch.

The second the cot rail is up, you and Leah back out of the room like you’ve just completed a high-stakes mission, which you basically have. The door closes with a soft click, and you both stand there, wide-eyed, disbelieving.

“She’s asleep,” Leah whispers, like she doesn’t dare believe it.

“She’s asleep,” you echo, equally stunned.

And then, without warning, Leah lets out a sound that you can only describe as a half-crazed giggle. It’s infectious, and you start laughing too, because it’s either that or you’re going to cry, and honestly, you’ve done enough of that in the last few days.

“We did it,” you say between breaths, leaning against the wall for support. “We actually did it”

Leah pulls you into a hug, and it’s warm and comforting, and it feels like a reward for all the hell you’ve been through tonight. “We make a good team,” she murmurs into your hair.

“The best,” you agree, letting yourself relax into her embrace.

But as you’re standing there, holding each other in the hallway like the survivours you are, you both hear it: the unmistakable sound of Eden stirring, a tiny whimper that promises to turn into a full-blown cry in about three seconds.

You look at each other in horror, and without a word, Leah grabs the car keys.

“You can drive,” she says, already heading back towards the front door.

You don’t even argue. Instead, you grab your the keys from her, knowing full well that this battle isn’t over yet.

And as you both head back to the car for yet another sleepless night, you can’t help but think that one day, years from now, you’ll look back on these nights with some kind of twisted fondness.

But for now, all you can do is keep driving.

[leahsgf]

THE BIG BED – leah williamson

leah williamson x child!reader

you were beyond restless and had been for the past few days - struggling to settle regardless of how exhausted you were, and it was showing.

only a few hours, which felt like minutes after leah had put you down to bed, you awoke, fussing and crying out for her, which alone was a signal of how out of character you were being, not usually being a massive cryer.

“mama” you whined as she entered your bedroom, throwing your arms in the air and sitting up the best you could in your sleep sack, wanting her to pick you up.

“i’m here my girl, what’s the matter hm?” she scooped you up out of your crib - which any day now would be being transitioned into a toddler ‘big girl’ bed (when you actually slept) and bounced you slightly on her hip, yawning as she ruffled your tufts of hair.

“big bed” you mumbled, a mirror image of your mother’s signature frown splayed across your tiny features.

in any other circumstance, and if she wasn’t so tired herself - leah would’ve chuckled. you hadn’t mastered many words just yet, but of course your beloved ‘big bed’, which was really just her bed, was one of them.

you were her baby through and through, wanting nothing more than to be close to her at all times - something that she usually adored, but you had gradually stopped sleeping unless she was there, which meant she wasn’t sleeping, and the collective exhaustion was really hitting the both of you.

her own mother had always warned her to steer clear of letting you in the bed with her, telling her to let you essentially cry it out - claiming that you’d eventually have no other choice but to fall asleep. leah took almost all of her mum’s advice, but this was one that she struggled to get on board with.

“but your bed is so comfy!” she encouraged you gently, voice no more than a whisper - ignoring the image of your auntie keira laughing at her for her word choice in her head and slipping a dummy into your mouth in a last ditch attempt to settle you in your room.

you began to tear up almost instantly, knowing this routine too well by now, and that you were about to be placed back into your bed and left.

“no wanna s’eep with you, please” you blubbered, words almost entirely muffled by your dummy.

and at that, leah’s heart melted - her boundaries that weren’t really there in the first place cracking. you were still a baby, her baby, and she was prepared to do just about anything to get you both a good night’s sleep. she could handle her mum’s inevitable questions.

“it’s okay, bubba. come on then, i’m not going anywhere, let’s go to bed. you can come sleep with mama” she cooed, relenting. anyone who knew leah as a player wouldn’t believe how unbelievably soft she truly was. she herself from a few years ago wouldn’t of believed it either - but you brought a new, completely overwhelming but beautiful kind of love into her life, and changed her.

when she had said that the euros were her proudest achievement and always would be until she had children, she had meant it.

having you cleared every other moment in her life, even when you refused to sleep.

and as she padded back across the hallway to her own bedroom, for the first time in what felt like weeks, you settled, completely.

she tucked the pair of you underneath the duvet, wrapping her arms around you and pulling you into her chest, soothing you even further with the touch of her bare skin.

“time to go to sleep now sweetheart, kay? its bedtime.” she whispered, pressing a kiss to your head as her fingers danced across your back, drawing little shapes and sending you off into a long awaited slumber - her touch working like magic.

and after shooting a text off to lia, celebrating the fact that you’d finally gone to sleep, leah allowed herself to drift off, cherishing both the closeness with you and the incoming well deserved and needed sleep.

[wolverigrl]

This scene as a story 🥵

Interrupted

Hugh Jackman x f!reader

A/N: I love all the requests and hope there will be even more, especially for Logan ;)

Warnings: some swearing here and there, light smut

Enjoy!

---------------------------------------------------

It's been a long few weeks, but tonight feels different. I'm sitting on the couch in the living room, my legs tucked under me, chatting with Oscar. He's such a good kid - always curious, always with something nteresting to say. Ava's on the carpet nearby, completely engrossed in her blocks, humming to herself as she builds some colorful tower. It's one of those rare peaceful moments.

"You think Dad's movie is doing well?" Oscar asks, his voice thoughtful as he tosses the football between his hands.

"Oh, absolutely!" I smile. "Your dad's been working so hard. The movie will be amazing!"

Oscar nods, looking proud but a little distant. It's been a few weeks since Hugh started his promotion tour, and even though he's come iome as often as he can, the house eels different without him.

Just then, the front door opens, and I hear the familiar sound of his shoes on the hardwood floor.

"Hey! Daddy's home!" Hugh's voice echoes through the hallway

Ava jumps up, abandoning her blocks, "Daddy!" she squeals, running toward him. Oscar and I exchange a smile, and I stand up to meet Hugh as well. He steps into the living room, arms open wide, scooping up Ava as she collides with him. He looks tired but happy, his face lighting up the moment he sees us.

"Hey, there's my beautiful family!" he says warmly and kissing Ava on the forehead before setting her down. His eyes meet mine, and for a second, I feel my heart skip. Even after all these years, the way he looks at me still does something.

"Hey, you.." I say, wrapping my arms around his neck. His arms encircle my waist, pulling me close as our lips meet in a soft, lingering kiss. It's brief, but enough to make me miss him all over again.

"Missed you."

"I missed you more." he murmurs against my lips before stepping back and ruffling Oscar's hair.

"How's it going, buddy? Keeping everyone in check?"

Oscar grins. "Trying. It's a tough job!"

Hugh laughs, pulling him in for a hug.

"I bet."

Ava tugs at Hugh's hand, clearly ready for her bedtime routine. "Come on, Daddy, it's time for bed!"

Hugh winks at me. 'Duty calls. I' I take care of Ava, and then 1'll be back. Oscar, heading to your room soon?*

Yeah, 1'Il probably read for a bit," Oscar says, already making his way toward the stairs.

As Hugh leads Ava upstairs, I sink ack onto the couch, exhaling a deep breath. It feels good to have him home, even if just for a little while. A few minutes later, he returns, the corners of his mouth ifting as he sees me still curled up on the couch

"Bedtime routine went smoothly?" I ask.

He chuckles, collapsing next to me Ava was out like a light. Oscar's a teenager now, though. Bedtime's more of a suggestion than a rule.

We share a quiet laugh, and then it's just us - the house finally still. I lean against him, his arm sliding naturally around my shoulders pulling me closer. The warmth of his body is soothing, and I take a moment to just breathe him in.

"How've you been holding up this week?" he asks softly, his thumb stroking my arm.

"Busy. But good." I reply, turning to look at him. "What about you? It feels like you've been everywhere!"

He sighs, rubbing his face.

"I have. It's been non-stop interviews, press junkets, all of it. I barely had a second to breathe." His eyes soften as he looks down at me.

"I missed you. Missed this."

My heart flutters, and I shift, leaning into his side a bit more. "I missed you, too. It's been strange without you here."

He gives me a slow, knowing smile. "Guess l'II have to make up for lost time then."

I raise an eyebrow, smirking. "Oh yeah? How do you plan on doing that?"

Without a word, Hugh's hand slides down to rest on my hip, pulling me closer until I'm nearly on his lap. His touch is warm, and I can feel the tension building between us, that unspoken desire that's been bubbling under the surface since the moment he walked through the door.

I bite my lip, my breath hitching as I swing my leg over to straddle him and his hands immediately find their way to my hips, pulling me even closer. His fingers dig in, holding me there, as his dark eyes lock with mine. There’s a smoldering heat between us, a spark that’s been building ever since he walked through the door. It feels electric, and I’m feeding off it, my body already reacting to the closeness, the weight of his hands on me.

"I don’t think you understand how much I’ve missed this.." I murmur, leaning down so my lips brush against his ear, teasing him with my breath. I give a slow roll of my hips against his, feeling the growing hardness beneath me.

Hugh groans softly, his hands tightening their grip on my hips as I grind down again, my movements deliberate, slow, and torturous. “Trust me, I’ve missed you more.” he says, his voice rough, barely above a whisper. His hands start to roam under my shirt, fingertips grazing my bare skin, sending shivers up my spine. “Every damn day, I thought about this. About having you like this… on top of me, feeling you.”

I tilt my head back, sighing as his fingers trail higher up my sides, his touch sending sparks of heat through me. I roll my hips again, feeling the friction between us, and I bite my lip, a teasing smile forming on my face.

"I had to keep myself entertained, you know." I say, my voice dropping to a sultry tone. “All those nights without you. I had to take care of myself in more ways than one.”

Hugh’s eyes darken, and he swallows hard, his hands pausing for just a second before sliding up to cup my breasts over my shirt. “Yeah? Tell me what you did.” he whispers, his voice thick with lust. “Tell me how you touched yourself thinking of me.”

I let out a soft moan as his thumbs brush over my nipples, teasing through the fabric. My fingers tangle in his hair, pulling his head back slightly so I can look into his eyes. “I’d lay in bed, thinking about you. About how good your hands feel on me, how your mouth drives me crazy. I’d slide my hands down my body, imagining it was you. And I’d think about how much I need you, how no matter what I do, it’s never enough.”

His breath hitches, and I grind down on him again, this time harder, feeling his hardened length.

“Fuck.” he mutters, his hands moving to my ass, squeezing as he pulls me tight against him. “You saying that is going to drive me insane. Hell, I wish I’d been there… wish I’d been the one making you come, hearing you moan my name.”

I smirk, leaning down to capture his lips in a slow, heated kiss. It’s all tongue and teeth, the kiss deepening with each second as the desire between us becomes unbearable.

His hands start to roam more urgently now, one sliding up under my shirt to cup my bare breast, his thumb flicking over my nipple, making me arch into him. The other grips my ass, pulling me into his lap as I grind against him again, feeling the heat pooling low in my belly.

"Hugh.." I breathe, breaking the kiss just long enough to catch my breath, my lips hovering over his harder this time. The friction between us sends a rush of heat through my body, and I can't help the soft moan that escapes my lips.

"I need you.." I whisper, my voice barely a breath as I feel his hands tighten on my ass, pulling me closer, pushing me down onto him.

"You have no idea how badly l've needed this." he groans, his lips crashing back into mine, urgent and rough. His hands roam freely now, one sliding up to my back, tugging at the hem of my shirt, pushing it higher.

My breath comes out in short gasps, my fingers tangled in his hair as lkiss him again, hungrily, my hips moving in slow, deliberate circles, the sensation of his hands on my skin, the way he's pulling me into him, it's driving me wild.

I break the kiss, my lips brushing against his ear as I whisper. "I've been so wet for you, Hugh. Every night, just thinking about you.. how good you feel inside me."

I pause, grinding down again, harder, feeling his breath catch. "I couldn't wait for you to come home."

He lets out a low groan, his hands gripping my hips as I continue to move against him, my body already buzzing with the heat of arousal. "Fuck, baby.." he mutters, his voice thick with desire.

"You're killing me. I want you so bad right now."

His words ignite something in me and I tug at his shirt, pulling it up and over his head in one swift motion. My hands run down his chest, feeling the firm muscles beneath my fingers, my body aching to feel more of him.

All of him.

He leans back slightly, his eyes dark and hungry as he watches me, his hands sliding up under my shirt, lifting it higher, exposing my skin

I let him pull the shirt over my head tossing it aside, and his hands immediately move to my breasts, making me gasp as a jolt of pleasure shoots through me.

"You feel so good, love." he murmurs, his voice rough, his hands exploring every inch of me.

Suddenly someone clears their throat.

We freeze.

Instinctively, I press my upper body against Hugh and turn my head in the direction from which the voice came.

My heart racing as I see Oscar standing at the bottom of the stairs, his eyes wide with a mix of embarrassment and discomfort.

"Oh my God." I mutter, my face burning with embarrassment.

Oscar clears his throat awkwardly and looks at the ceiling.

"I.. uh.. I just wanted to say goodnight. But, uh.. I'll go to bed now. Good night."

He doesn't wait for a response turning on his heel and practically sprinting back up the stairs.

Hugh and I sit there in stunned silence for a moment before we both burst out laughing, the tension evaporating into a mix of relief and embarrassment.

"Well.." Hugh says, running a hand through his hair. "That was.. unfortunate."

I shake my head, still laughing softly.

"We should probably go to bed too, before we traumatize him any further."

Hugh grins, his eyes still sparkling with that familiar mischief. "Probably a good idea."

We stand up, and as we head upstairs, his hand finds mine, squeezing it gently.

Even though the moment was interrupted, the connection between us is still there, stronger than ever. And I know there will be plenty of time to finish what we started.

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Tags: @angelofthorr @haytchee

[nebuladreamerrr]

“Where is mom?”| Kylian Mbappé x Fem Reader

Summary:  After a day filled with the profound exertion of bringing your second child into the world, a moment of tender anticipation arrives: it's time for your eldest to meet her new sibling.

Warnings: English is not my first language

After enduring six grueling hours of labor, you finally welcomed little Jules into the world—a spitting image of his father. As the nurse reassured you of his perfect health after all the tests performed to check both his heart and hearing, your thoughts drifted to your daughter, Manon, and how she might be feeling on this momentous day.

"Are you okay, my love?" Kylian's concerned voice interrupted your reverie as he made skin-to-skin contact on the couch in the room with Jules.

"Do you think Manon is okay?" you whispered, trying not to disturb the baby sleeping in your husband's arms.

"Honey, everything will be fine. You know she's with my mother, and if she was sick or something had happened, she would have contacted us," Kylian reassured, his voice gentle and soothing.

"Yes, Kylian, but she's not used to changes, and today has been anything but routine. Could you text your mother and ask her to come today instead of waiting until tomorrow to meet the baby? And to bring Manon with her, please," you pleaded, concern evident in your tone.

"Of course, my love. But try to relax and rest. I'm sure she's fine and just eager to cuddle us," Kylian said, gently laying Jules in his cot before enveloping you in a comforting embrace.

Your concern for Manon might have seemed excessive to some, but your motherly instinct told you otherwise. You knew your daughter well, and despite the joyous occasion, something deep down told you she wasn't having a good day. It had been a challenging few months for your family, especially for her. Manon was accustomed to being the center of attention, the youngest grandchild and only daughter of doting parents. Kylian, in particular, showered her with affection, earning her the title of "daddy's girl." Even on days when he had to travel for matches, he made sure she knew she was always his little girl. They had a ritual: before each pre-match training, he recorded himself telling her a story, allowing you to play it for her at bedtime. Often, she fell asleep hugging the mobile phone that displayed her father's face.

When you found out you were pregnant again, you couldn't help but worry about Manon's reaction. However, she surprised you by being thrilled at the news. Her excitement grew when she found out she was going to have a baby brother, and her joy was more than evident at the baby shower, where she participated enthusiastically as the one who popped the balloon revealing the gender of her baby brother.

But not everything had been smooth sailing in the past few months. Manon quickly grasped the concept of becoming a big sister. You couldn't blame her; you knew you and Kylian had indulged her, but how could you resist? So it wasn't surprising when she cried inconsolably as Kylian explained that she would have to stop sleeping in your double bed because the baby would need a lot of nighttime care. If she slept with you, she wouldn't get much rest.

Similarly, there was something you hadn't told Kylian in any depth because what little he knew had broken his heart, and had ended with him clinging to you as you both wept inconsolably, apologizing to her for having to leave home. But your little girl wasn't coping well with having to leave France next year, and you couldn't blame her. She had only just started kindergarten this year and had managed to make many friends at her little school. In addition, this year she had managed to start going to a ballet academy where she felt like a real princess in every class. You completely understood her frustration and understood how everything she knew would quickly cease to exist. There would be no more afternoons in the park, no more afternoons playing with Navas' children, and even your little girl would have to get used to another teacher and other doctors. But you knew that this was the best thing for Kylian and that he deserved to fulfill his dream. So you tried to convince your little girl, assuring her that she could still talk to her friends on your mobile, and you would keep in touch with their mothers so that, as soon as you returned to France for a holiday, your little girl could see her friends.

So when Fayza got that call, she couldn't have been happier. It was customary for her granddaughter to stay at Fayza’s home, but it had been exhausting trying to distract her when her little mind was elsewhere. Fayza had done her best to make the day entertaining, but it had started on a rough note. When your water broke at five in the morning, Kylian took you to the hospital, and they had to make a quick stop at Fayza's house to drop off your daughter. Fayza had prayed that her granddaughter would fall asleep quickly, as she had on many previous occasions, but it wasn't meant to be. Manon stayed awake all day, and by seven in the morning, Fayza had given up trying to coax her to sleep.

She had tried to make the day better by preparing her granddaughter's favorite breakfast, little Mickey Mouse waffles, accompanied by a good session of her favorite cartoons, but the plan failed when she barely took a bite. No matter what Fayza tried to cheer her up, the day wasn't working: not playing princesses, not a Disney movie marathon, not an afternoon with her uncle Ethan, who decided not to go out with his friends to try to improve his niece's mood. But when the clock struck five in the afternoon, the little girl couldn't take it any longer and cried inconsolably missing her mother.

Your daughter was very attached to her father, mostly because he was the father figure she saw the least of in her day-to-day life. As long as Manon felt you were close, everything was under control, but that day you were far away from her. Ethan quickly tried to calm her crying by singing her a little song while holding her in his arms and moving around the house. That calmed her for a moment, but both Ethan and Fayza knew that if the little girl did not see her mother that day, none of the household would be able to sleep that night.

Fayza tried to encourage Kylian about her little girl's state of mind by commenting that if they needed quiet and rest, it might not be advisable to take her to the hospital. However, Kylian played it down, thinking that her mother was simply worrying too much.

With a smile, Fayza turned to Manon and said, "Honey, put your coat on, we're going to see Mommy.”

Your little girl quickly buttoned up her coat and rushed out to the car. During the car ride, Fayza tried to explain to Manon that the hospital room would contain not only her parents, but also her little brother, but she barely paid attention when she sensed that they had arrived at the hospital. Strategically, Fayza quickly sent Ethan to buy a bouquet for you, knowing that when she unbuckled her granddaughter's car seat, she would jump out regardless of whether she was carrying a gift for her mother or not.

So when they asked where the room you were in was, Manon bolted for the lift and led the group as she walked down the corridors of the hospital looking at the different room numbers until she saw it: "Room 350".

She quickly opened the door and, catching a glimpse of your figure, couldn't help but burst into tears as she threw herself onto your hospital gurney, waiting for you to take her in your arms.

"My baby girl," you said as you looked worriedly at your daughter's reaction. You knew that her behavior had nothing to do with how she had been treated at her grandmother's house, where you knew she had been treated like a princess. But even though your maternal instinct had sensed it, you didn't know it was that bad.

Manon's constant crying caused little Jules to burst into tears as she woke him up from his warm sleep, which made your daughter cry even harder.

"Kylian, I think I'm going to go outside with Manon to soothe her. You can stay here while you introduce Jules to your parents," you said, making an effort to get up.

"Honey, you've just given birth. It's not advisable to stand for too long," said Kylian as he stopped you from getting up.

"Well, you're going to explain to me how we reassure our daughter because logically she needs a moment alone," you replied sharply. You hated talking to Kylian like that, but you felt that no one understood how much pain your princess was going through. You knew that with a few sweet lullabies, you could calm Jules down, but your daughter wouldn't be soothed so quickly.

With a short sigh, Kylian exclaimed, "I'm going in the next room with Jules and my family while you try to calm her down, okay? But don't make any sudden moves, please, I beg you. I'll be right back, sweetheart," he said, placing a small kiss on your daughter's head.

When the room fell silent, you couldn't help but ask your daughter why she felt that way and what was going on in her little head. Although many might think it was jealousy, it was quite the opposite. The little girl could not understand that you would not abandon her. So many things were changing in her daily life that she could only expect more changes. When she noticed the absence of both of you, she was frightened. She was used to Kylian's absence, but you had never been gone so long. Even when you were sick, she would lie on your breast while you watched a princess movie and wait for you to recover enough until you had the energy to play again.

After a long time of cuddling and stroking her hair, your little girl managed to calm down, but she stirred restlessly in your arms when she noticed someone opening the door to the room. However, she calmed down again when she noticed it was her father.

"How is my little princess?" exclaimed Kylian before lifting her nimbly into his arms as he gave you a look that begged you to tell him what had happened.

As she gave your daughter little kisses and caresses, you told him what had happened. "She was afraid that we were gone and that we would disappear from her life.

After hearing that, your husband's heart couldn't break more. "My love, that will never happen. Dad and mom love you so much and we will always be by your side. We could never abandon you," he said as he left delicate kisses on her little head.

"You promise?" your daughter asked with teary eyes. 

"Of course, sweetheart," he replied. 

After an hour of cuddling and enjoying a few moments with your firstborn, you decided it was time for her to meet her baby brother.

"Manon, would you like to meet Jules?" you asked cautiously.

Surprisingly, her reaction was a huge smile as she nodded her head repeatedly. Quickly, Kylian allowed his family back into the room as they relinquished Jules so that Manon could hold him in her arms with the help of her parents.

[n0tamused]

idk if i can request but —

What about ratio with a reader who is always sleepy but refuses to sleep on time? (Technically nocturnal reader haha)

Like; he’d be home from the guild after a particularly long day and he sees the reader doing whatever on the dead of night

Or maybe when hes asleep he suddenly stirrs awake with music coming from the living room or reader accidently dropping a bowl in the kitchen, creating very loud noise!!

Would he scold us ? 🥲

Feel free to ignore this if you want!! 🫶

A/n: Sorry for taking so long but I do hope you enjoy this little drabble! <3 I am slowly working on the requests aaa I feel like Ratio would definitely be prone to scolding you for this behavior, but he'd try to encourage you to go to bed early by dragging you to his nightly routine with him. You just gotta sleep after it, there's no choice bro. Try saying no to sleep around him I dare you

Contents: Dr. Ratio x GN reader, nocturnal reader that overworks themselves, fluff.

Long sighs of night air send satisfying shivers down Veritas’ back as he trudges his way forth through the swallowing darkness, reminded once more that his bedtime schedule had long since been lost with the sudden trip the Guild had set him up to. Yet, in the moment, he couldn’t even be irritated as the breeze felt most pleasant to his tired body and mind. 

In long strides he reached the front door, his hands fiddling with the keys while he reached up with the other hand to rub the bridge of his nose, his fingertips soothing down the edges and beneath his eyes with soothing pressure. Light poured out of the hall and onto the welcome mat, illuminated the sudden ridge between his brows that seemingly sprouted out of nowhere. One glance at the clock reminded him of the time - 01:26 AM. The lights were off during these hours, generally speaking.

Veritas sighed softly, his jaw clenched as he took off his shoes and stalked over to the office room which you were currently occupying, big black headphones over your ears not allowing you to hear his approach. The door was left open, and as Veritas wordlessly made his way inside, he spotted an empty cup beside you and he heard the aggressive scribbling of pen on paper before he even saw you holding it.

Glancing down at the trashcan, he found it oddly full with crumbled balls of torn paper sheets and sticky notes. He dreaded guessing how long you were here for, but he could practically feel the stress oozing off of you in long heavy coats. 

Startling you seemed unavoidable even as he tried to gently tap you on the shoulder, his warm palm soon pressing onto it to stop you from jumping from your chair. The contact made you gasp and spin around, accidentally drawing a sharp diagonal line down your paper. The color that was so quick to drain from your face slowly began to seep back in through your eyes as you recognized the man now hovering behind you, and a sigh fell from your lips in pure relief. “Oh, Veritas- it’s you!.. Did you just get back? I do apologize, I didn’t hear you” you dropped your pen, pulling down your ear phones to instead turn around and wrap your arms around his waist, your cheek pressed against his stomach.

He returned the affection by rubbing up and down your back, his other hand gently placed on top of your head. “I did. And I think it goes without saying that I am not most pleased to find you in this state..” he muttered, his voice softened from his long travels, but filled with a loving scolding.  “What is this? Have you not finished this already before I left?” he asked as he watched you pull away and look up at him, still a little hunched over and with your two fingers hooked around his belt hoop. 

“I have finished it, but.. uh.. it wasn’t good. I went back in to do some retouching, and I just kept not liking any of them” you explained as your previous soft smile fell, unveiling the bags underneath your eyes and the sagging of your shoulders. Veritas knew you were prone to perfectionism and overexertion, yet he knew he’d never get used to it and that he’d never stop scolding you for it. 

“These retouches- they couldn’t wait until you were more well rested. You do know they won’t run off should you look away from them for a few hours, from my office no less..” he grumbled lightly, his brows relaxing before cinching together as he saw you look away and turn to look at your paper, as if you did not hear what he just said.

“I know.. but I am finishing up now. I did make some of your favorite tonight. You can go ahead and do your thing while I finish up, and as soon as you’re done with your shower, you’ll find the meal warmed up for you. I’ll be done by then” 

Veritas didn’t even know if you were trying to distract him and send him off, change the topic or get him off your back. He shook his head. Whatever the objective was, he decided to play soft tonight and let you do your work for a little while more, to soothe you in some way. He knew how it was to be forced to leave work unfinished. Both of you were too tired for even simple banter which you usually enjoyed. But he made his dissatisfaction known with a heavy sigh and a fluttering of his eyes that fell shut for a few heartbeats. “Fine.. but no need to warm up the food, it is too late to have such a meal. I’ll go clean myself up, and then you will do the same. You need rest..”

There was no argument there, you knew, and could only look up at him and nod before he was walking out of the office room and into the bathroom. A timer like that would usually send you into a panic, yet now you found yourself slightly more motivated and even relaxed. This was Veritas you were with, your Veritas - not some rude client that wished to rush you and undermine you. 

Your finishing touches would need retouching in the morning, as you find yourself not completely satisfied even now, but you decided it was time to lay down the pen for tonight. And it wasn’t like you had much of a choice when Veritas stood at the door, towel around his waist. hair still damp from his shower and asking - no, saying you were done and that you should get ready for bed too now.

You slid out of the chair, giving him a hug as you passed by him in the door frame, earning yourself a soft scoff as he kissed your crown and sent you off with a few pats on your shoulder. He was eager for rest, but also to be in your arms. Something he missed the last few days. 

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

Tags: @the-inquisitive-constellation <3

[happiest-hotch]

Father's Day

for the biggest dilf out there <3

Summary: Father's Day morning at the Hotchner household.

Word Count: 1.8k

As almost every morning for the past eight months started, you wake up to baby cries from Noah. Lately, it's through the baby monitor, the other camera set up in the nursery down the hall, but prior to that, it was a bassinet in the master bedroom, and the journey to soothe your crying baby was shorter.

At this point, it's reflexive to haul yourself out of bed when that special alarm rings, just like how it's natural for you to respond when you hear him cry.

Aaron stretches out and places a large hand on your thigh to stop you from getting up, but his head still rests against the white pillows, jet-black hair tousled.

"I'll get him." He says, mostly still asleep. He hasn't even opened his eyes.

"Don't worry." You assure him, voice thick with sleep. "Sleep in a little." You instruct him, squeezing his hand as you get out of bed and straighten the bedding. "It's Father's Day, after all."

He doesn't protest, just lets his hand drop on the comforter where you would usually lay.

You slip off into the hall, stepping through the quiet house. It's rarely like that nowadays, and you love the noise and chaos with your whole heart.

You hear the crying when you open the door to Noah's room, but it quietens when he recognizes you. He's the cutest thing you've ever seen, holding onto the crib bars to support his weight with wet tears on his cheeks. He looks most similar to the baby photos you've seen of Jack which is cute since you didn't know Jack until he was five. Adding to the list of adorable things about him, Noah's perfected the Hotchner stare when he gets grumpy.

"Good morning, sweet baby." You coo, picking him up and resting him on your hip so you can hug him. He looks at you with eyes identical to Aaron's, a rich brown.

Noah gurgles a response, grasping at your hair with his chubby fingers. It amazes you, how he's learning to communicate.

"Today is Father's Day." You tell him. Narrating your day has become common as you attempt to broaden his vocabulary. "So, we get to celebrate daddy." He's a while away from speaking, but he definitely understands who Daddy is and he giggles in the cutest way. "And he can't tell us it's too much. He probably will, but today, we don't have to listen."

After you take him out of his sleep sack and change him, like has become routine, you make your way to the kitchen with him.

"Are you hungry?" You ask rhetorically, seating him in his highchair. "I bet you are. Those bedtime bottles don't keep you full all day as well as all night, but Mommy loves that you're not waking up at night." He babbles back at you with the most adorable smile. "So, what do you think? Oatmeal sound good? Then some eggs with Jack and Daddy?"

You do what you promise, making him breakfast while he sits there smiling. You've never known a smilier baby than he is. While the oatmeal cooks, you get started beating some eggs to make breakfast for your other favorite people.

With cooked oatmeal, you put the bacon in a pan and leave it to cook so you can feed Noah.

"Here, sweet boy." You coo, squatting down and holding out a thick, plastic spoon of cooled oatmeal. "I bet you're growing and that's why you're so hungry. We're going to have to start buying you one-year-old clothes soon." You joke. He's a good eater like he's a good sleeper, easy as well as adorable, and he swallows his breakfast down.

The bacon starts sizzling in the background, and you leave the spoon on the tray, hoping he'll feed himself, while you get started on the eggs and flipping the bacon.

Noah isn't with the plan, and his tears start pretty quickly, accompanied by screams that could threaten to wake the house. He throws the spoon you were using to feed him on the floor carelessly.

"Sweetie, it's okay." You comfort him from the kitchen, but his cheeks are turning red pretty quickly, and you can't rush over to feed him without burning breakfast. It feels like an impossible juggle some days.

Just as the situation threatens to get worse, Aaron walks into the room. "Uh oh, someone's grumpy this morning." He jokes, walking to the cutlery drawer to get him a new spoon.

"I can do it." You jump in, taking the spoon from him while making sure not to burn the eggs.

"It's alright, baby." He assures you. "I'll feed him, you focus on breakfast. It smells delicious, by the way, thank you." As always, he's your perfect, well-mannered husband.

On any other day, you'd be thankful he's there and not somewhere around the country. "But it's Father's Day." You remind him in a whiney tone. "Let me do it. You just-"

Aaron squeezes your hip as he walks past. "Not happening." He says with tenderness. "I don't want you being a married single mom just because it's a random Sunday in June." He squats in front of the highchair where you were before, soothing Noah by running his hand through his soft hair before offering him some food. It does make you feel better when his crying ceases, and it's adorable when his face lights up as he recognizes his dad. "Hey, bubba, no more tears." He coos before turning back to finish what he was saying to you. "And I'm not always here, so I'm definitely going to help out when I am."

"Today's not a day for you to criticize yourself." You remind him, smiling softly. He's so attractive when he's most domestic, dad-like and husband-like. "Especially about being a dad, which, I'll be the first one to say today, you're amazing at."

He chuckles lightly, focusing his attention between feeding Noah and lovingly gazing at you. "Thank you." He tells you. "Not just for that, but for always."

You nod, always grateful you're the person who gets to compliment him endlessly.

"Can I tell you a secret?" Aaron asks in an enticing tone, turning back to look at you with a shy grin.

"Sure." You say, smiling over at him.

"I watch you on the baby monitor sometimes." He admits sheepishly, the collected facade of his slipping like it does when he's being tender. Your cheeks heat slightly at his confession. "And what you say is so sweet. I can't tell you how much I appreciate it."

Breakfast cooked, you walk over and place your hand on his shoulder. "You deserve it. You hungry?"

He doesn't get out a reply before Jack comes running into the room excitedly, throwing his arms around his dad's neck, so Aaron can hold him to his side.

Noah recognizes him and reaches out for his brother with a grin, breakfast- and crying- forgotten about.

"Good morning! Happy Father's Day." Jack cheers.

"Thanks, buddy," Aaron replies, sweeping his hair out of the way to kiss his forehead. "Love you."

"Love you too," Jack says. He reaches for Aaron's hand that's holding the spoon. "Can I do it?" Watching them interact is something you deeply enjoy, and the responsibility of feeding his brother is a duty Jack takes seriously.

Aaron nods, handing it over and letting Jack feed his brother as he makes his way over to you. He holds your waist, kissing you softly before pulling back and leaving his face an inch from yours. "Hi." He whispers.

"Hi." You say back, leaning up to kiss him once before wrapping your arms around his neck and hugging him while you watch the boys.

It's your happy place. Still and full of love.

"Breakfast?" Aaron asks because although he doesn't want to stop feeling your warm body against his, the food is getting cold.

You rest your head on his chest, looking at Jack and Noah. "Are you hungry Jack?"

He looks at you with wide eyes. "Starving." He exaggerates the word.

"Bacon and eggs?" You offer, although it's already made and he won't turn it down.

"Please, please!" He replies excitedly, leaving Noah's food on the highchair. "But I have to get something." He remembers before racing off out of the kitchen.

You frown, looking as confused as Aaron. You pull apart, you to serve breakfast, and Aaron to tempt Noah with some more oatmeal, but it seems he heard what you offered his brother and no longer wants what you made him. Thankfully, he's much more willing to feed himself eggs and picks some up as soon as you set down his plate.

Jack comes back when the plates are on the table, taking his seat with a sly smile and his hands behind his back.

"What do you have?" Aaron asks with a soft smile at Jack's animated expression.

"This," Jack reveals a card, handing it over to his dad.

The words on the front are definitely his handwriting, reading Happy Father's Day in messy, lopsided black letters. There's a stick figure family at the bottom, and Aaron's wearing a cape reminiscent of a superhero.

"Wow, this is amazing." Aaron compliments him, tears in his eyes at the thoughtful card. "You did this?"

Jack nods before making Aaron open the card and pointing at a paint mark on the bottom. "But Noah did this." He explains. "He can't hold a pen, though, so I had to put the paint on his finger and stamp it for him."

Aaron's face softens even more, if possible. "Thank you. This is the best gift I've gotten, aside from you and Noah." He looks at you, making sure you know he's grateful you made him a dad again.

"What's the best part about being a father?" Jack asks randomly.

Aaron pauses, his mind filled with memories and emotions. "The best part." He starts, voice thick with emotion. "Getting to raise you and Noah, and watching you grow up and become a really awesome, kind, intelligent, and funny person. And being there for you no matter what."

"I like you being my dad," Jack tells him.

"I like being your dad too," Aaron replies, squeezing his hand. You can see the tears in his eyes, but it's too early for tears.

"And Noah's?" Jack asks, looking at his little brother.

Aaron nods, looking at his youngest and then at you. "Of course, Noah too."

It might just be a random Sunday in June, but Father's Day serves as a reminder of his privilege of being a dad, the unconditional love he has for them, and how much he appreciates having you by his side. Aaron Hotchner just loves being a dad.

[khaire-traveler]

⚰️ Subtle Thanatos Worship 🪦

Honor your ancestors/loved ones that have passed on; learn about your family history

Bake with poppy seeds

Visit cemeteries; leave flowers on graves (if given permission!!! Ask first!!!)

Support suicide prevention, humanitarian, or homeless organizations

Have a candle that reminds you of him (no altar needed)

Wear jewelry that reminds you of him

Have imagery of butterflies, flowers, torches, or wings around (wings and butterflies are especially good for a Christian household)

Have a stuffed animal butterfly, snake, or bird

Keep a picture of him in your wallet

Drink a relaxing tea; drink black tea or coffee

Collect animal bones (thank the animal's spirit; I find that respectful)

Start a flower garden; grow calming herbs; tend to plants

Ground yourself frequently within nature

Take care of yourself physically and emotionally

Take a soothing bath or shower

Reflect on your beliefs of the afterlife; become comfortable with the subject of death

Become comfortable with change; take new risks, try new things, accept difficult changes

Create a bedtime routine

Engage in self-care often

Exercise; take care of your physical body

Volunteer at a homeless shelter; help out your fellow humans

Cook a warm meal for someone in need

Engage with media that invokes a sense of comfort; engage with childhood media

Do activities that relax you

Get comfortable with the idea of rest; rest can be productive

Be gentle with yourself; go at your own pace

Spend time with loved ones and pets

Make a list of simple joys in life; focus on the good parts of your day at the end of it

Allow yourself to feel your feelings

Allow yourself to mourn over difficult changes or the end of relationships; allow yourself to miss people

Take a walk/hike in nature; visit a forest or nature preserve

Practice patience and going with the flow

Make a list of things you're looking forward to at the end of the day

Keep a diary where you can vent your feelings while also talking about things that bring you joy; focus on both positive and negative

Make a bucket-list; what things do you want to try at least once in your life?

Collect coins with the intention of allowing souls who need payment for the river Styx to use them if needed

Have compassion towards yourself; forgive your past mistakes

-

I'll likely add more to this list! This is a list of discreet ways to worship Thanatos. Take care, everyone! I hope this is helpful. 🩵

Link to my Subtle Worship Master list

[saminsecret]

Hello, I was wondering if you could do a male s/o with a deep voice for the slashers. Like corpse husband's voice, you don't have to make y/n have gerd, I just like the idea of the reader having a voice that could attract everyone. No matter what the gender or sexuality.

Slashers dating a male!s/o with a deep voice

I didn’t really know what to write for some of these guys but I hope you like it nonetheless anon :) I also didn’t know who to write this for so i just chose three randoms , hope that’s okay >.<

Characters include Michael Myers, Thomas Hewitt, and Brahms Heelshire

Michael Myers (Halloween 79’)

He won’t admit that your voice intimidates him. He’s used to hearing the high pitched screams of his victims, so coming home to your deep voice throws him off at first, but you’ll never realize it because Michael will hide the fact until death.

He doesn’t like it when you talk. The fact that your voice intimidates him makes him upset, because nothing is supposed to intimidate the bogeyman. For the first few months of your relationship he’s covering your mouth anytime you speak more than a few seconds, which quickly annoys you. If you really put up a fight about it he’ll stop trying to keep you quiet…eventually.

He likes to hear you scream. Expect him to startle you by standing behind you, silently waiting for you to notice him. Your screams sound so different from what he usually hears, so it fascinates him in a way to listen to you yell in fear when he’s suddenly right behind you. But after a while, he’ll get bored with this as you become accustomed to him and his antics, thus less screaming.

He lives with it. After those first few months of annoyance and curiosity surrounding your deep voice, he becomes accustomed to it. So his boyfriend has a deep voice, who cares? Not him, that’s for sure. And if you find him sometimes suddenly behind you while you’re deep in conversation on the phone, it’s definitely not because he starts to like listening to your voice. Don’t be weird, y/n.

Thomas Hewitt (TCM Remake)

He screams the first time he hears you. He didn’t know such a deep voice could come from a guy! It’s one of the reasons he ends up not killing you, so be grateful for this reaction!

Begs you to talk. All the time, about anything at all. He just needs to hear your voice! It’s so soothing and sends a shiver down his spine every time he hears you. Will absolutely nod enthusiastically at whatever story you’re in the middle of telling him, but he’s mostly focused on the deep baritone of your voice.

Hums at you. He can’t doesn’t talk, so other than sign language he communicates through a rough humming to you that he wants you to talk to him. Sometimes he just wants you to hum back at him while he rests his head on your chest to feel the vibrations. It calms him down, especially after dealing with his family and/or a particularly tricky victim.

Brahms Heelshire (The Boy)

Freaks him out. It took him a long time to warm up to you because of your voice, but eventually he just had to like you because you followed all his rules so well. But he can’t deny that shiver that goes down his spine every time you read him a book or whisper to him a quick goodnight. He doesn’t know if he likes your voice or is afraid of it.

Makes you read to him constantly. Eventually he has decided that he does in fact like your voice and refuses to go on with the routine until he gets at least one story read to him at bedtime. He’ll try to be cheeky and pick out an extra long story for you to read, but you don’t usually mind as you like to spend those extra moments with him!

Do not yell at him. He already hates yelling, but if you were to yell at him? He’d refuse to leave the walls for hours. You’d have to coax him out with promises of treats and kisses and even then he’d still be jumpy until the next day. He doesn’t mean to be naughty, y/n, he promises to be good!

Will try to mimic your voice. It won’t be perfect, obviously, but he wants to try his hand at that deep tone! He’ll force you to sit and say different phrases at him so he can try to imitate it, but he can’t get his voice as deep as yours without hurting his throat. He’ll still try though!

[thebearer]

do you think there'd be a rare night when carmy is home for bedtime with the girls, and he's reading them a bedtime story to calm them down and you find yourself standing in the doorway just to listen?

yes, and let me explain why.

so carmen said he had a stutter as a kid, and i can just imagine the trauma of that + having to read out loud in class as a kid; he hates reading out loud. is so scarred by it, he won’t do it. he gets anxious and hates it and doesn’t even like reading things off tickets sometimes bc he gets nervous about mispronouncing a word or stuttering over it.

with that being said, carmen doesn’t get to spend his days with the girls. he works, kisses out on time with them, and really, sometimes when it’s super busy bedtime is all he has. he likes doing the bedtime routine, especially tucking them in, but they get to an age where they want a story. you always read to them, and they’re used to it.

so carmen starts off easy. does an easy picture book like goodnight, moon or something easy. he gets a little mad at himself when he misreads a word, frustrated really, but then he looks down and teddy and willow don’t care, don’t even notice. their eyes are fluttering, lids heavy with sleep, just looking positively angelic and carmen realizes it’s not like reading in school. he’s reading to his kids, they don’t care if he messes up a word- they don’t even know how to read lol- and they just want to hear him read them a story so they can be soothed enough to go to sleep.

he starts reading to them more and more. gets a little more confident and goes for harder, lengthier books. you like to stand out in the hall and listen at first, because he gets a little nervous with you in there. you’re fine with it, you like being able to hear him.

“you gotta do the voice daddy.” teddy huffs one night, her one critique.

“the voice? what voice?”

“the princess doesn’t talk like that.” teddy rolls her eyes. “you gotta do the princess voice like mama does.”

“how does mama do the voice?” carmen frowns, looking down at the five year old.

“like this. this is how she talks.” teddy’s voice rises all high pitched, airy and dramatic.

carmen hesitates for a moment. “oh, i could never go to the castle-“ his voice is wobbly, rising to a pitch that’s unnatural and odd. it makes both teddy and willow howl in laughter, and you have to cover your mouth to keep yourself from laughing.

[simplyreveries]

Hi ^^ I read through some of your stuff and I really love your writing, can I request sleepover/cuddling headcanons for Riddle, Azul, Jamil, and Ortho? (And additionally, if it's okay could Idia be in Orthos platonically? Ignihyde sleepover :3)

sleepover; riddle, azul, jamil, ignihyde

thank you!<3

riddle rosehearts

now riddle can be stickler about these types of things but if you plead him enough, he can't help but give in. he does have habits and a pretty strict bedtime routine for himself- you're going to have to help him loosen up just a little bit. he can't help but feel his heart melt when he sees you cozied up in pajamas.

he does like to get some schoolwork done before rest because he's a nerd or whatever, but you can at least do your own thing and chat with him while he does. it's mostly you rambling and talking about something stupid the trio did earlier that day with him humming in acknowledgement or him shaking his head with a small smile of amusement.

though he chastises others for staying later than necessary... he will indulge in a few games with you, something like card games, he only knows a few so you may need to explain how some of them work. he mostly sees ace showing others them, but he doesn't play much himself. but riddle loves puzzles the most and he wants to be able to do something together rather than compete each other.

at the end of it once you initiate holding (ya he's the little spoon what about it...) him he's hesitant but turns into a puddle of mush. and please play with his hair, he'd hold onto you tighter. also, you know how once you get sleepy and overtired you open up easily? yeah that's kind what ends up happening. it's a good thing though because that just means he feels safe with you.

azul ashengrotto

hes the one to suggest you staying, during a more tired and overworked state as you came to visit him after mostro lounges hours in his office he turns clingy (i mean more so than usual) and doesn't want to let you go. if you even try to get up when hes holding onto you with his eyes closed he'll hold you tighter.

you only laugh and help each other to get ready for bed. he was curious when he saw any kind of skincare you do, he does that too but he still doesnt know that much with these things in the land. so now there's even more perks to staying over because now you get: azul without glasses and him begrudgingly letting you put a facemask on him. he was weirded out and even found them to be silly look, but boy was he THANKFUL when he felt his skin right after. not to mention he has a newfound love for you putting the skincare on for him, your touch gives him chills, but he wants more.

i bet you his bed is literally the softest thing ever... like you're sleeping well tonight. azul has got the silk sheets and everything. its nice until you feel how naturally cold azul's body is when he touches you and puts his arms around you. he prefers laying in a position where you're facing each other, your faces are practically right in front of one other. azul likes to rub your arm while hes trying to sleep... very soothing and comforting would recommend.

jamil viper

it's actually pretty common for you to decide to spend the night over rather than going all the way back to ramshackle. jamil isn't exactly complaining either he wants all his time with you. it's so pretty to see him with his hair all the way down and of course he wants you to play with it when he's holding you. he enjoys it when you offer to brush it for him.

you two usually play a lot of games with each other, cards, board games or mancala which he enjoys the most with you. he doesn't go easy on you even if it's supposed to be a simple and chill time together because hes a stupid bastard like that. he'll give some airy laugh and say "you probably shouldn't have done that" pointing out how you couldve done better against him.

if you're feeling hungry he'll cook something so good up for the two of you. he doesn't mind whether or not you join in cooking it to or watching him and chatting with him as he whips something that you just know smells heavenly up.

once you two are ready for bed though jamil prefers to hold you against him. he sometimes loves just burying his face into the crook of your neck, he'll kiss you lightly here and there too, its actually very sweet.

ignihyde

oh gosh any sleepover with these two are so fun. there's literally so much to do with them and so much technology to make use of in the dormitory that its insane. but of course, you guys spend A LOT of your time that night playing videogames together. that and idia pulls out his favorite board game and him and ortho are like a beast at those it feels so unfair. don't let those brothers team against you.

you get special privileges with them, so you get access to all of idias candy but you're also going to be eating what his diet consists of for the night- sodas and microwavable meals like ramen, of course.

surprisingly, you’ll end up seeing a more talkative side of idia— I mean he feels comfortable around you and if you bring up any of his interests, he can get really passionate about it.

okay but I totally feel like ortho lowkey has a lot of knowledge and dirt on the students around him. so, if you're want to know anything interesting about your classmates ask him, he doesn't really have any qualms on sharing that to you, he does it with such an innocent smile too as he happily shares the drama.

you and idia would probably pass out some point, watching a movie or playing some videogame, sprawled out on the floor, thankfully you won't have to deal with ignihydes cold hard floors because idia has a whole collection of blankets and pillows to share with you.

[blakelysco-pilot]

Every Time We Say Goodbye

Beat Me, Daddy, Eight To The Bar: Part Seven Everett Blakely x Valencia DiRosano (OC)

Valencia is about to learn first-hand that not everything is as it seems. Especially when the horrors of the war threaten to take from her for the first time. Who will be there to pick her up and carry her through, and will friendship alone be enough; especially when her best friend is harboring the secret of a lifetime.

Part Six Follow along with the Eight to The Bar Playlist

Val moved through the house with a smile, dropping her bags by the door and leaving her purse and gloves on the credenza. She could hear a voice coming from the living room, softly speaking without waiting for a reply. Turning the corner, she found Everett holding a small baby, his eyes bright as he kept talking, the baby looking up at him in wonder at each word. Pausing by the door, she stood and watched, her smile never fading. 

“Mommy’s going to be home soon, and then, we can tell her all about what we did today… did you miss her while she was out to lunch with the girls? I did too, but I bet she had a great time with your Aunties. We need to make sure we remind her how much we love her, okay? Did you know mommy served in the war? Prettiest girl in East Anglia, but your Uncle Dougie might fight me on that and say it’s your Aunt Olive… Mommy made the best coffee, and she looked so pretty doing it too. Except for when your Uncle Curt would annoy her… he was really great. Did you know, he introduced me to mommy? Sometimes mommy gets sad because she misses him, so we need to remind her of the good stuff…”

No, that couldn’t be right… Curt couldn’t be gone. He wouldn’t just give up that easy; no one had more gusto during the war than he did! Then who had walked her down the aisle? Who…who’s life was she looking at? Surely not her own! Her life included her best friend, no matter how much he annoyed her, he was supposed to be there. 

“No…” she whispered, the word muffled as the house around her filled with a rusting noise as she turned and ran back towards the front door, desperate to get out of this life that didn’t belong to her. “No!”

Her eyes flew open, the rustling sound continuing around her as she took in the sight of the Red Cross hut. The side table with the photos of her and her friends, her rosary sitting next to the photo of her and Everett where she had placed it before bed. Helen sleeping in her bed to her left, wrapped up like a caterpillar waiting to emerge as a butterfly, and Olive sitting up in the bed to her right flipping through the pages of a book. So that was what she had heard. Exhaling deeply, she stretched beneath her blankets, arms coming up to test the temperature in the hut. 

“Morning Chickie,” she turned to face Olive, the Brit offering her a smile in return. “Up already?”

“You know me…” Olive smiled, closing her book and placing it on her side table. 

Sitting up, she swung her legs from under the covers and stood, making her way to the washroom to start her morning routine. As she passed Helen, or what she assumed was Helen beneath the blankets, she gave her a shake to rouse her as well, so that the three of them could start their day. 

“Nooo…” the Helen shaped blankets whined, burrowing deeper into the pillows. “Not yet… I was just about to have my big kiss with Jimmy Stewart!”

“You can kiss Jimmy Stewart at bedtime!” Val hollered from the sink, her voice muffled as she washed her face. “Right now, Herbert Nash is waiting for you to serve him coffee and wish him good morning!”

“Oh,” Helen giggled, untangling herself from the blankets. She was wrapped so tightly, Olive had to come and give her a hand. “Uh, Olive, can you uh…”

“Jeez, Helen, how tight tight did you wrap up last night Chicken, it wasn’t that cold!”

“No, but it’s so cozy. Like being held and soothed to sleep.”

“Oh, I see, you were dreaming of your sweet flyboy.”

“Olive!”

“I’m just saying,” she shrugged with a grin, watching as Helen joined Val in the washroom. “I bet it was a real nice dream too, especially when Jimmy Stewart swooped in.”

“That’s what happens when you read magazines before bed,” Val laughed, coming back into the main hut to get dressed. “Romanced by Nash and a Hollywood star.”

“And who were you dreaming of, hmm?” Helen begged the question, peeking around the wall of the washroom, toothbrush in hand. Val glanced over her shoulder as she pulled on her blouse before replying. 

“Who do you think,” Val teased, not ready to give up the dream turned nightmare that seemed more like a bad omen than anything else. “Cary Grant.” 

“Oooh!” Both girls teased her, their laughter filling the hut as they continued to get ready for their day, and for a moment, she forgot about the dream, and what it might have meant. 

They carried on with the start of their day, dressing and quickly pulling the blankets up on the beds so that the hut wasn’t messy. Once Val was in front of the mirror, digging through her cosmetics bag, the door swung open to reveal Tattie, a small box in hand and a smile on her face. 

“Morning girls!” She greeted them, setting the box down on the nearest side table, digging into it with one hand. 

“Morning chickie,” Val turned, zipping the jacket of her jumpsuit halfway. “Presents?”

“New uniform requirements,” Tattie shrugged. “Don’t ask me why but, we’ve got dog tags now.”

“Dog tags?”

“Yes, so don’t lose them please.” 

Handing Val her chain, the brunette inspected the two tags hanging from the thin metal chain, the second tag hanging from a smaller chain, lower than the first.  

“Perfect! One for me and one for Ev!” She beamed, pulling it over her head with care not to disrupt her hair, before tucking it into her blouse. 

“Oh! Olive,” Tattie called to her, Olive turning on the spot as Tattie tossed her a set of tags. “It’s official. We’re keeping you.”

“Like you had much of a choice, Spaatz.” Olive grinned, looking over her tags with awe before following Val’s lead and putting them on. 

“Something like that.” Tattie winked, handing Helen her tags as well.

“Helps to have a dad in high places doesn’t it?” Val teased, grabbing her cigarettes and old lighter with one hand, and her rosary with her other. Once all three items were secured inside her pockets, she linked arms with Olive and gestured to the door. 

“Shall we?”

“Come on Chicken,” Olive beamed. “I suspect there’s two men hankering for a coffee and a good morning kiss out there.”

“Helen? Are you coming or waiting for Jimmy Stewart?” Val teased, reaching her arm back to gesture to her friend. 

“Oh you’re so funny,” she rolled her eyes, grabbing Val’s hand and heading out the door with both her and Olive, Tattie right on their heels. “You’ll never let me live it down, will you!”

“We will, don’t worry.” Val chuckled. 

“After you’ve had a proper song with Herbert Nash.” Olive grinned wickedly, wiggling her eyebrows as she looked at Helen. 

“And who says I haven’t!”

“Helen!”

“What? He’s very charming!”

Pulling open the door, the four girls are met with the thickest smog to ever grace East Anglia, at least, that’s what it felt like. 

“They can’t fly in this!” Val crowed, turning to Tattie with a worried look in her eye, as if hoping the woman had an answer. “Chicky’s got to ground them, right?”

“I don’t know, Valencia,” Tattie gave her hand a squeeze in solidarity, letting her know she shared the same worry. “For now, let’s just do what they need us to, hmm?”

“Okay… come on then. Coffee’s not going to brew itself.”

“I made the first batch of sinkers on the early shift.”

“You love the early shift, don’t ya Tat.” Olive teased from Val’s other side. 

“It’s not so bad.” she grinned, and Val could see a hint of something simmering beneath the surface; but that was something for another time. 

Approaching the Clubmobile, Val could just make out four figures leaning against the side. As they got closer she could see that it was Jack Kidd, Dougie, Herbert Nash and Everett. The boys were smoking and chatting amongst themselves, the three veteran flyboys appeared to be giving Nash the lowdown on how mornings usually unfolded on base. 

“Excuse me fellas.” Everett tossed his cigarette down before pushing off the truck and making his way to Val. 

Quickly untangling her arm from Olive’s and breaking away from the other three girls, Valencia met Everett halfway, falling into him with ease as he pressed his lips to hers in greeting. They kept it clean, aware of their friends being so near to them, before pulling away slowly. 

“Good morning…” 

“Hmm, good morning,” Val grinned, her thumb swiping at the corner of his mouth. “You got a little something…”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, and we don’t need Chicky seeing you with lipstick all over your face.”

“No,” he laughed, giving her thumb a quick kiss before she pulled back. “I don’t need a chewing out this early in the day.”

“If he can even find you in this soup.” She frowned, taking his hands, her grip trying not to come across as desperate, regardless of how she felt. 

“Red’s got eyes in his ass, they’ll find us.”

His fingers brushed back a few strands of her hair that had fallen victim to the early morning breeze, his thumb grazing her temple. His big, hazel eyes went wide for a moment, looking over her shoulder to find his friends all in similar positions. He clocked Dougie and Olive, his bombardier had his better half pressed up against the side of the truck as he kissed her good morning, while Helen was giggling at something Nash had said, the fresh pilot looking a little too rigid with the higher ranking officers around him. And Tattie and Jack were, well he wasn’t sure, but they were talking softly and he had some strange look in his eye that Ev couldn’t quite place. 

“So, what’s brought this on hmm?”

“Ran into Nash last night walking back from your hut. He had caught up with Rosie so we all went back together,” Ev gestured over his shoulder. “We thought it might be nice to surprise you before the day got started.”

“And Jack?”

“He sort of just tagged along… not sure what that’s about.”

“I have a pretty good idea,” Val grinned. “I’ll get to the bottom of it.”

“You think…?” He wrapped his arms around her, swaying her in place.  

“Oh absolutely,” she laughed, arms sliding up the back of his leather jacket. “Jack’s got a twinkle in his eye.”

“You have a twinkle in your eye.” His face pressed into the crook of her shoulder, his eyes closing against her cheek, lashes tickling her gently. 

“I wonder why that is.” 

His reply was cut short by Olive hollering that the coffee was done, Dougie front and center at the window so he could get his first cup. 

“No sugar, please, lovey.”

Val could just see the blush on Olive’s face at the nickname, shaking her head as she climbed into the truck to help her serve the boys. 

“Oh, you like that one!” Dougie looked triumphant, taking the coffee from Olive with a grin. 

“That one?” 

“I’m trying out nicknames,” he explained, waving at Val. “Olive likes that one, I can tell.”

“Everett,” Val turned to her boyfriend, passing over his coffee. “Please don’t try any new nicknames for me, okay?”

“I gotcha,” he laughed. “Besides, we tested out sweet cheeks and you hated it.”

“Still hate it,” she grimaced. “Sounds funny and, dunno, just not like you.”

“Don’t worry sweetheart, I remember.”

“Ah, better.” She smiled, clocking two small boys running across the field from the hardstand at breakneck speed, laughing the whole way. 

“Incoming,” Helen laughed, side stepping and pulling Nash with her. 

“Who’s kids are those?” He asked, looking around at the group. 

“Billy and Sammy,” Helen replied, pointing out each respectively. “Local boys who’ve taken a shine to Kenny and Winks.” 

“The ground crew fellas, right?”

“Right. They came by one day while the two of them were working and we haven’t been able to shake em since.” 

“Colonel Harding’s okay with that?”

“He doesn’t mind much,” Tattie patted Nash on the shoulder as she moved behind him to join Olive and Val in the truck. “As long as they don’t get in the way of work, and they’re behaved, he’s fine.”

The two young boys almost ran head first into the Clubmobile, Everett reaching his arm out to catch Sammy from falling as he tripped. 

“Woah, Sammy! Easy pal!”

“Sorry Captain Ev!” The young boy giggled as Everett ruffled his hair, and Val couldn’t help but recall the better part of her dream that was Ev and the baby, and the gentle nature he had taken. 

“Are you two behaving?” He looked down at them much like a parent would, but a teasing smile on his face. 

“Yeah!” They chorused, hoping it was convincing enough. 

“Alright, well, go on, I think Miss Olive has something for you.” 

Olive had two fresh donuts on a piece of kitchen roll for them, and Val could practically see their mouths watering at the sight. She quickly grabbed two of the smaller mugs from under the counter and filled them with milk before topping them off with some of the coffee; a little something to make the kids feel like they were grown ups. Something her Nonna used to do back home, but with slightly less milk and definitely more coffee. 

“Alright boys, careful,” Val leaned down with the two cups, their small hands grabbing at them eagerly before realizing she had made them a coffee. “And don’t tell your Ma! It’s our secret.”

“Wow! Coffee!” Billy’s eyes grew wide, his mouth pulled wide in a smile up at Val. 

“What do you say, hmm fellas?” Dougie ruffled their hair as he passed them by. 

“Thank you Miss Val and Miss Olive!” They cheered before running back towards the hardstands. 

“You gave two hyper kids coffee? Jeez Val!”

“Oh relax, it’s mostly milk.”

“Oh! Well, that’s smart of you.” Olive grinned. 

“Right,” Val winked. “Not just a pretty face.”

“The prettiest, though,” Ev winked, passing his half smoked cigarette to her through the hatch with a smile. “Morning Maude. Did we lose Doug?”

“Ernest,” Olive teased, looking out at where Dougie had just been standing with the boys. “He was just here, I’m not sure where he is actually.”

“Okay sourpuss, I’m sure he’ll be back soon.” Ev grinned, gesturing to the figure approaching in the fog. 

“There he is!” Olive breathed, leaving the truck to meet him halfway.

Val remained in the truck with Tattie, the two brunettes leaning on the open hatch to talk to their friends while Doug had pulled Olive to the side to talk privately. 

“Still can’t believe you gave those kids coffee,” Tattie laughed. “Even the slightest bit!”

“Oh stop, my Nonna used to give me coffee when I was their age. It’s nothing.”

“That actually makes a lot of sense.” Jack looked up at her, half smile on his face. 

“Oh? And why’s that?”

“Just one of those things.” He shrugged as she passed him his own cup. 

“I don’t think much of it. Those kids’ll be drinking it eventually, it may as well come from adults who are watching them.”

“Did your Nonna give Biddick coffee when he was a kid, too?” Helen asked. 

“Absolutely not!” Val roared, laughing at the look on Helen’s face. “That boy does not need anything else, he’s hyper enough.”

The laughter of the group filled the foggy space around the truck, casually sipping their morning coffee and picking on the first few donuts that had been set out. Nash looked like it was a privilege to be among the group, sticking close to Helen even though the other boys had done a good job at making him feel welcome. 

“Doug! You need smokes?” Ev called from his perch outside the hatch of the Clubmobile. Val was handing him down two packs, not waiting for Doug to answer. 

“Thanks Val,” Doug grinned, tipping his imaginary hat at her as he came back from where he was with Olive, the girl now wearing an oversize jacket that Val made a mental note to ask her about later. “You sure know me well.”

“Kind of my job, Dougie.”

He was about to respond, mouth open and eyes wide with what was sure to be a smart ass remark, when Chick Harding’s voice cut through their morning reprieve. The Colonel came marching across the grass, hands on his hips as he stopped in front of the truck. 

“Alright you lot, briefings about to start let’s go!”  

He waved both Ev and Doug away and into the hut, giving Jack a good natured shove in the same direction. He appraised Nash quickly, the new pilot taking one look at the Colonel and dashing off in the other direction without more than a wave goodbye to Helen. 

“Replacement?” Chick looked over his shoulder where Nash had run off, an amused look on his face. 

“Yes, Chicky,” Val sighed from the window. “His name is Nash.”

“Valencia…” he warned, all the annoyance of a dad who loved his daughter present as he looked up at her. 

His face softened as she placed his coffee on the ledge of the hatch, fixed perfectly, and a second cup for Red Bowman next to it. 

“Thank you.” he gave her a half sheepish smile, the brunette in the truck shaking her head at him even as she handed him two donuts. 

“That one’s for Red, and here, eat something for Christ sake.”

“We ate already.”

“Don’t lie to us, Chick, I was up early and I saw you and Bowman in the tower, not the mess hall.” Tattie turned on him, her own scowl present. 

“Fine, we’ll eat,” he sighed. “Thank you. Now, can I get you girls to close up the truck and come with me please?”

“What?” 

“Briefing hut, all of you, please.” 

“Chicky…”

“Miss Tattie, we’ll tell ya when you get inside. Now come on.”

Val turned to Tattie, her own face a mirror image, while Helen stood nervously on the grass. 

“Alright, you three, let’s close it up for now.” Tattie gestured to the girls, the confusion not ebbing as they followed Harding’s orders. 

“Take the dang dog on your way in, would ya? Don’t need him out here unsupervised.”

Val dusted off her jumpsuit before climbing down from the truck, looping her arm with Helen, who was still standing in place on the grass. Olive had run ahead to meet Benny at the door of the briefing hut to take Meatball from him. 

“You don’t think…” Helen’s voice was a whisper, and laced with nerves. “Do you think he knows about Nash and me?”

“Oh Helen, if he was mad about that, he wouldn’t tell you in the briefing hut.”

“I mean, I know we’re technically not supposed to have relationships with the men, but we see them every day!”

“Helen, if you think Red and Chicky don’t already know…” Val laughed, remembering how Red’s voice had boomed across the tannoy the night before, hollering for Dougie to get to bed. 

“Oh, Bowman has eyes in his ass!” Olive joined their conversation, now with Meatball dutifully at her side. 

“Eww!” Helen shuddered with a laugh.

“It’s a stupid rule anyway,” Tattie joined them, coming up on Helen’s other side. “How can they expect us not to get close to these boys!”

“Tattie Spaatz, defying the rules?” Val balked. “Why I never thought I’d see the day!”

“You hush,” she turned to her, voice stern but eyes glimmering with something mischievous. “Come on, let’s see what this is all about hmm?”

The girls entered the briefing hut, all passing by Red at the door as he greeted them with a tight smile. 

“Spaatz, DiRosano, Porter, Lewis,” he addressed them all by their last names, only rarely ever using their first names. “Come on in girls.”

They followed him further into the hut, the men around them talking amongst themselves. The chatter in the room filled the large space, all of them seemingly doing their best to ignore that a mission was quite literally looming overhead, and that tomorrow, some of these faces may not be here to laugh with. Val tried not to think about it too hard, especially with so many of the faces being her friends and more. 

“Okay, Chick, why are we here?” Tattie’s arms were folded under her bust, and suddenly it was General Spaatz’s daughter staring down Colonel Chick Harding, cigar wedged between his lips and all. 

“Need to make sure that dang mutt doesn’t get lost in here again.”

“You hardly need four of us to watch Meatball, he’s not that bad.”

“Alright, fine,” Chick sighed, beckoning the four of them closer. “Bowman, tell em.”

“This is a big one girls,” Red sighed. “And we’re not blind to the fact that some of you have gotten close to some of the men, and we feel it’s unfair to keep you in the dark.”

“How big?” Olive squeaked. 

“Big, Lewis. Real big.”

Olive nodded, the hand not holding Meatball’s leash grabbing at Val, her nails digging in unintentionally. 

“You know we’ll find out anyway, but you think it’s better if we hear it first hand.”

“Exactly.”

“It doesn’t lessen the worry, Red.” 

“No, Valencia, I suppose it doesn’t, but, somewhere along the way you four got under everyone’s skin here and the fellas all love ya, they respect the hell outta ya’s and well, Chick and I feel the same.”

“Chick Harding is going soft, girls.” Tattie smirked, but nodded at the man in front of her just the same. 

“I ain’t soft, Spaatz.” He groaned, cigar smoke pluming around him as he spoke. 

“Alright Chicky, you’re not soft,” she conceded. “Where do you want us to sit?”

“In the back, if you don’t mind.”

“Come on girls, let’s find some chairs hmm?”

“And no balls!” Chick called after them, prompting a 

shrill whine to erupt from Meatball, several of the men in the room turning to look at him, the rumble of laughter and the dog's name filling the room. 

Making her way towards the back with the girls, Val doesn’t register the presence of someone behind her until his voice cuts above the rest, loud and full of energy. 

“There she is! There’s the gal!” 

“My god, Curt, do you ever just, I don’t know, say hello like a normal person?”

“Now why would I do that?” He grinned, pulling her into a hug on the spot. 

“No you’re right, why would you.” She rolled her eyes, hugging him back regardless. 

“Hey, what are yous doing in here? This ain’t your usual spot.”

“Chicky wanted us in on this one,” her voice now lowered so that only he could hear her. “It’s big, and they don’t want us hearing anything second hand.”

“Well, you gals should be included! You’re damn important if ya ask me.”

“Thanks, Curt, but we’re still only Red Cross. I only know so much because Chicky can’t type to save his life.” 

“Yea well, yous should know more,” he grinned, pulling out his cigarettes. “And not just cause me and the rest of the fellas tell you.”

“Curt,” Olive joined them, the pilot throwing an arm over her shoulders in greeting. “Want me to save you a seat?

“Heya English,” he gave her a squeeze before letting her go. “Thanks, but Dickie’s got us chairs up front with your boys.”

“Ah, grand!” Olive gave his arm a friendly pat before tugging on Meatball’s lead to head back to the seats the girls were occupying. 

“I’ll see ya after, gal. Have a coffee ready for me!”

“Pain in the ass!” Val called after him as he walked away, taking the seat on the end of a row, Dickie to his right. 

Just as Dickie offered a wave from his spot, Val spotted Everett, Doug and Croz in the row behind them, Everett’s hazel eyes going wide at seeing her in the briefing room before spotting the other girls behind her. She shrugged and his brows furrowed, just as the officer at the door called for attention, and every single man in the room stood as Chicky made his way to the front with Red at his side. The girls quickly hurried to the four chairs at the back of the room, Val taking the seat next to Olive, who was trying to settle Meatball. The husky seemed annoyed that all of his friends were in one room and no one would play with him, and kept whining at Olive’s feet. At the front of the room, Chick Harding commanded attention, and Val couldn’t help but feel rooted to the spot as the whole room focused on him. Next to her, Olive was petting Meatball, shushing him as quietly as she could until finally, his head came to rest on her lap. 

“What’s up?” Val turned to her, her right hand scratching between his ears. 

“He’s just moping because all his friends are here and no one will play.”

At the mere mention of the word play, Meatball began huffing and whining again, looking between Olive and Val to see which one would start their game first. 

“Not now buddy,” Olive spoke in hushed tones, trying to keep him quiet. “After, I promise.”

“Meatball…” Val warned, trying her hand at quieting him down. “Stai zitto, questo è importante.”

Be quiet, this is important.

“Aww he’s just a baby,” Helen came from Olive’s other side, reaching for the dog who was now lapping up all the attention. “He doesn’t mean it.”

“Girls,” Tattie’s whisper fell over the three of them.  “Quiet, or Chicky is going to regret ever asking us in here.”

“Today, the mighty eighth will be sending up a max effort of three air task forces, totaling 376 heavy bombers and 240 fighters!” Chicky’s voice carried through the room, all of the men cheering like it was a football game. “That’s the largest air armada ever assembled in the history of mankind!”

Val caught the excitement from the corner of the room where her friends sat, both Everett and Doug, and Curt and Dickie shared a shout of excitement before focusing back on the Colonel at the front of the room. 

“We will be in the first task force, targeting a Messerschmitt 109 engine assembly plant in Regensburg,” he announced, the men around him scribbling notes. “The second and third task forces will hit the ball bearing factories in Schweinfurt, because no war machine moves without em!”

Val noticed that Chick looked proud, and it was a foreign expression to see on the man. Normally she’d see him grumbling and complaining about this or that, the dog, the coffee and what have you. But this, he seemed infinitely proud of his men, and the Hundredth. When he mentioned that there were an infinite number of lives they could save if this mission went off as planned, the men in the room fell into a hush, talking quietly amongst themselves, presumably to determine who might be leading this, and she couldn’t help but pick up rumbling of both the names Egan and Cleven the most. 

Chicky called for their attention, his arm gesturing to the curtain behind him which the Corporal dutifully pulled back, revealing a map, and a route that looked terribly long, at least to her untrained eye. Whistles and groans replaced the hushed awe of just moments ago, and she just picked up on Harry Crosby groaning oh boy as he caught sight of what he would surely have to navigate his crew through. 

“Bowman.”

Taking his cue, Red stepped in for Chick, coming to stand in front of the map before he began speaking, his New England accent filling the room as he addressed the men. 

“It’s a three punch combo,” he began, arm coming out to trace the first of three colored strings. “And the Luftwaffe will only be able to defend one of them!”

“Uh, Major?” Curt’s voice, quieter than everyone, especially Val was used to, interrupted Red Bowman’s speech. “Why’s that red line go all the way down through Africa?”

“Well, that is a characteristically astute question Curt, and I’ll get to that in a minute if you don’t mind.” 

“Yeah yeah, go on and laugh…” Curt groaned, sliding down in his seat as the room broke into peals of laughter. 

Val just managed to catch Everett leaning forward in his seat to flick the pencil from behind Curt’s ear in what could only be described as sibling banter, one pilot to another as he mumbled a drawn out  fuuuuck you to Curt before both of them turned to see her shaking her head in exasperation. Like a mother whose children had exhausted her, Val pointed up to the front of the room, making sure they both focused on what Red was still talking about- second task force turning around, rearming and refueling, enemy territory, ME109’s until finally, a single sentence put the whole room into near deafening silence. 

“You’re going to Africa, gentlemen.”

“Val… Val did he say Africa?”

“Yea, he said Africa, Ol…”

“Dear god,” the Brit whispered from her spot next to her, one hand gripping Val’s with such force, she could feel her leaving small crescents in the skin of her palm, while the other was still buried in Meatball’s fur. “Why…why Africa… it’s so far…”

“Olive, hey, chickie, calm down, it’s alright.”

“I don’t like this.” 

Olive was borderline shaking in her seat, her eyes wide as they continued to listen to Red talk about the boys landing in Africa and linking up with the 12th who had promised ice cold beer. A holiday. With the fog outside not letting up, Val couldn’t help but wonder exactly how Chick and Red expected the boys to get up in the air safely, never mind General LeMay and his plan for them. It just didn’t seem safe. Olive’s nerves seemed to confirm that, her fear now on full display in the back of the room. 

“Tattie…” Val whispered, leaning over towards her to pinch her arm. “Give me your flask.”

“Val…”

“Give it here, please.” She gestured to Olive, and Tattie handed it over to her after a single glance at the girl, her eyes softening. 

“Ol, drink.”

“What?”

“Come on, drink, it’ll settle your nerves.”

Olive takes the flask from her, taking a generous sip before passing it back to Val, who also takes a generous sip. When Tattie pulls it from her grasp with a roll of her eyes, she can’t help but wonder if what she suspects is going on between her and Jack Kidd has her just as rattled. Half expecting her to take a sip as well, Val watches as Tattie slips it back into her pocket before pulling out her cigarettes and lighting one. 

“Major Kidd will be command pilot in Blakely’s fort-” Chicky announced. 

“Oh god… they’re leading them all into this soup.” Val murmured, dropping her head back. 

“Major Egan will be riding with Captain Cruikshank as…reserve command pilot of the group.”

“What the hell is a reserve command pilot?” Helen furrowed her brows, her gentle expression turned somewhat sour. 

“I think it means Egan didn’t want to be left out.”

“When does he ever.” 

“Gentlemen, good luck, and I’ll see you in a couple of days. Dismissed!”

As the men in the room stand to exit, Tattie stands and begins leading the girls from the hut, and like ducks in a row, they follow her. Olive is behind Val, one hand holding Meatball’s lead and the other still gripping onto Val’s wrist; mostly so she didn’t get lost in the shuffle of bodies leaving the room. As they approach the door, she spots Ev waiting for her, arms folded over his chest, cigarette between his lips, cheeky grin on his face. 

“And why were you four in there?” He throws his arm over Val’s shoulder as she approaches, guiding her out of the hut as Dougie does the same with Olive. 

“Chicky invited us…”

“He did? Why?”

“Said we deserved to know about this one.” Her voice sounded small, and so unlike her, even to her own ears. 

“And now that you know?” Ev stopped just outside the truck, taking her hands in his. 

“It’s Africa, Everett…”

“Yeah,” he sighed, and could feel her anxiety over the situation rolling off her in waves. This is why he felt the way he did about her being in the briefing room the last time, except now, Colonel Harding had asked her to be in there and he could hardly fight it. “I can’t say I’m thrilled with the location either.”

“It’s bad enough when you’re up for a few hours, but this? Days?”

“Hey, come here,” guiding her off to the side of the truck, behind the open doors off the back, he hoped she’d tell him what was really eating at her. “Talk to me, what’s going on hmm?” 

She wasn’t sure if she should tell him about the dream from that morning. About how she dreamt of their future, their child, but that something -someone- was missing entirely from that almost perfect scenario. In telling him, would she be giving that nightmarish fear of losing her oldest friend an escape from her mind and setting it loose upon reality? Would it scare him? Make him more nervous than he already was? Or, would it give him more reasons to fight, and fly so safely and smoothly that he’d come back to her, and lead the rest of their friends home safely too? 

“Want you to take this,” she chose against the former, reaching into the collar of her blouse and instead, pulling out her new dog tags. “One for you and one for me.”

“You have tags now?”

“Got them this morning,” she confirmed, yanking the lower hanging one from the chain. “I can’t go up with you, so this is the next best thing.”

“You know I take you up with me every time, right?”

“In your heart, the same way Curt told me he takes me up with him, yes.”

“Yes, in my heart,” he grinned, taking the tag from her hand and swiftly pulling his own out from his collar. “But also, in the red braid you’ve so securely tied to my wrist.” 

He pulled his own extra tag from his chain, putting the one with her name in its place before handing her the one with his name. Blakely, Everett E. The significance of carrying each other's names wasn’t lost on her, and she knew that if he was giving her back the same weight that her name carried to him, with his own, that there was stock to be taken in that dream. More stock in the good, and less in the fears she was projecting in losing someone she loved.  

“Also, I do take you with me,” he tucked his tags back into his shirt, before pulling out a small photograph from the breast pocket of his flight suit and handing it to her. “See? You go everywhere with me, baby.”

It was a photo she hadn’t ever seen of herself before, but could tell you exactly where it had been taken. The night in the officers club after Curt had been announced safe in Scotland- one too many cocktails had her perched comfortably in Ev’s lap, but he wasn’t in the picture. It was just her, and she was looking over at someone else and grinning, her bottom lip snugly between her teeth as she tried not to cackle with laughter, her eyes dancing with mirth. 

“When did you sneak this?” She looked up at him, the picture between two of her fingers in place of her usual cigarette as she waved it in his face, eyes and lips mimicking the frozen image of herself. 

“Don’t you worry about when,” Ev plucked it back from her, tucking it safely away over his heart, and then pulled her close. “Just remember, you’re with me every single day, even if I’m not on the ground.”

“Please,” pressing her face into his chest, breathing him in, committing it to memory. “Please don’t do anything stupid, and protect each other, all of you.”

“You know I won’t get reckless,” he pressed his lips to the crown of her head, uncaring of the hairspray she had set it with. “I’ve got too much at stake here on the ground to risk getting reckless.”

“As much as it pains me to say it, listen to Jack.”

“I will… you behave here while I’m gone, yeah? No getting up to mischief with the girls.”

“No promises.” She grinned, peeking up at him before standing on her toes to press her lips to his.  

“Yeah, even in this soup I saw that coming a mile away,” shaking his head, he kissed her back, knowing that time was ticking away and his crew would be heading for the hardstand soon. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” 

Pulling away, they turned to head back to the front of the truck so that she could carry on with work and he could get his coffee before leaving, when Curt rounded the corner wild eyed and looking for trouble. 

“There ya are! Oh, Val!” He called in a singsong voice. “You promised me a coffee!”

“You demanded coffee,” giving his shoulder a shove, he let out a y laugh at her fiery behavior. “There’s three other girls in the truck, Curtis.” 

“Curtis?! Ouch!”

“Serves you right.”

“I’d like to be served coffee, maybe a donut for good measure.”

“You are a pain in my ass, you know that?”

“Yeah I know,” he grinned. “Are you good? Is she good?”

Yeah, I’m okay,” Val nodded. “Are you okay?”

“Oh yeah, I’m good… got my bracelet and everything,” lifting his wrist; he wiggled it so both Val and Ev could see . “It broke the other day but I tied it back on.”

“CURT! No! You’re not supposed to, you know that!”

“It’s fine, gal!”

“I don’t have time to make you a new one…”

“You don’t gotta, it’s fine!”

She knew the distress on her face was evident when Everett stepped between her and Curt. She watched as he dropped a hand to Curt’s shoulder fixing him with a look that said he ought to know better than to mess around with what Val considered to be sacred. 

“Curt, even I know you don’t mess around with that.”

“Ah, it’s not the first time I tied it back on myself, won’t be the last,” Curt grinned, slipping out from under Ev’s grip and heading to the window of the Clubmobile. “Now how about that coffee for the road?”

With a roll of her eyes at Curt and a quick kiss to Ev’s cheek, Val climbs back into the truck where Helen is pouring coffee and passing out smokes and snacks to the boys lined up dutifully at the window. Tattie is a few feet away on the grass trying to pry Olive and Dougie apart with a soft smile, knowing they both have jobs to do regardless of the nervous energy swirling around the base. She hears Olive tell Doug that she’ll fix him a snack for the road, and sets about doing the same for Everett and the rest of the Just A Snappin crew. 

“Ev, what do you and the crew need for the trip?” She leans out the window, handing him another coffee and a donut. She knows that like many of the boys, he’s not the biggest fan of the powdered eggs, and usually chooses not to eat them before a flight. “Curt! Get out of the truck!” 

“How’d you even know it was me?” He grumbled, jumping down from the back of the truck to join the rest of the guys on the grass. DeMarco, who had been walking towards the truck with his crew, turned and raised his coffee in a salute, laughing at the put out look on Curt’s face.  

“Busted, Biddick!” Benny shouted. 

“Okay, okay. You,” Val gestured to Curt, holding out two coffees, and gesturing with a nod of her head to the two donuts on the window. “Take these, and the donuts, they’re for you and Dickie.”

“Thanks gal! Love you!” He grinned,grabbed his provisions, and blew her a cheeky kiss before running off to join his crew, uncaring of the coffee sloshing over the side of his cup. 

“A mess,” she shook her head. “Now, what do you need, handsome?” 

“You gave me smokes before,” he smiles, lifting the coffee to his lips. “Not sure what the rest of my boys need though, and I know Olive has Dougie all squared away.”

“Well, take another pack of smokes, and if the crew needs anything, send em over.”

“Thanks baby,” he grinned, turning to face the rest of the men on his crew with a soft authority that Val knew was the reason they all respected him so much. “Alright boys, if you need anything, go see Val so she can set you up!”

————————————————————

“Meatball, no! Uh, Olive a little help please?” 

Looking out the window, Val found Helen on the ground, Meatball pawing at her excitedly as he mistook her securing him to the pole for playtime. The poor girl was dusting off his fur and trying not to sneeze as Olive came around the front to help her, laughing as she pulled the husky from Helen’s lap. 

“Helen, you know how he gets…”

“He only listens to you and DeMarco.” She grumbled, wincing as Meatball let loose a howl at the mere mention of his favorite human’s name. 

“Oh now look what you started,” Val groaned. “You know saying Benny’s name gets him all wild.”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry.” Helen sighed, standing and trying to get all the grass and husky fur off her uniform. “Meatball, he can’t hear you from here boy!”

“He doesn’t know that.” Olive chuckled, securing the leash just as a jeep came to a screeching halt, startling the girls and the dog. 

“Garcia,” Val addressed the man behind the wheel, lighting a cigarette and coming around the front of the truck to join Helen and Olive. “What can we do for you?”

“Just stopping by to let you know the fellas have got a thirty minute delay.”

“Not surprising in this shit.” She gestured to the fog still swirling around them.”

“If you girls wanted to drop them another hot coffee and cheer em up… maybe say goodbye again.” He suggested, gesturing subtly to the empty seats in his jeep. 

“Say less!” Olive grinned, unhooking Meatball and guiding him towards the jeep. 

“Give me two minutes, let me put a bag together for them.” Val smiled, turning back towards the truck. She had two coffees and a bag of donuts ready in record time, jumping into the jeep with Olive as Tattie and Helen waved them off from the Clubmobile with a smile. 

“Step on it Garcia!” Val calls up to him with a laugh. “They’ll take the news better if it comes from us!”

“You got that right, DiRosano,” he laughed. “They sure like looking at you two more than they like looking at me!”

Without another word, Garcia steps on the gas, the jeep and its occupants beginning their journey through the mist. Meatball whined from his spot between Olive and Val, no doubt picking up the scents of all the fellas who had been driven out the same way on their trucks only a short while ago. Even with the headlights on, the road ahead was barely visible, and Val wasn’t sure how Garcia was managing it, maybe it was muscle memory, but she just hoped he got them to the hardstand in one piece. 

“It’s a real pea-souper, this one.” Garcia huffed, turning to avoid the hardstand of another fort that Val wasn’t able to identify. “Do you reckon they’ll call it off?” Olive practically begged, hoping for the answer she wanted to hear. “Not a chance, Lewis,” he sighed a bit apologetically. “This is a big one. Brass are taking a lotta risks and–well, I’d better zip it.” “It’s nothing I won’t find out in a few weeks when I’m typing reports for Chicky,” Val retorts, reaching around to pet Meatball. “No need to keep it quiet.”

“Sorry, Val, force of habit to zip my lips and all…”

“It’s fine, Garcia, we know. We were in the briefing room this morning.”

“Yeah? God, The Brass must really like you ladies… I think everyone on this base likes you ladies actually.”

Not sure what else to say, the trio continues to drive in silence, Garcia seeming to have run out of polite conversation within a few moments. The brakes screech as they come to a stop, and Val looks up to find the all too familiar silhouette of Just A Snappin looming in the distance, the plane somehow even more intimidating now, as opposed to the night she had been out here with Everett, and only the headlights of a jeep illuminated her. The fog almost completely covered it, and even though she could just see the nose in the distance, it felt tremendous. 

“Alright you three, this is your stop.”

“Thanks Garcia!”   

Jumping from the jeep, careful of the coffees in her hands, donuts having been passed to Olive earlier, she watches as Meatball bounds away into the mist, the dog gone in a flash. 

“Damnit, where’d he go!”

“Probably to find DeMarco…”

“Great, that’ll be fun later.”

“Maybe Kenny and Wink will find him before we do.” Olive chuckled, looping her arm through Val’s as they began walking closer to the fort. 

“Chickie, I can see through this haze just as well as you can.” “This is so we don’t lose each other.” Olive laughs in return, resting her head on Val’s shoulder for a short second. “Ol, that’ll never happen. I promise.” Val smiled, though Olive couldn’t see it, and dropped her head to her friends for a moment. 

They walk silently, arm in arm and careful not to bump a tire, or the wing as their steps take them closer to the fort. Val catches a glance of Olive trying, in vain, to wrap her jacket around her with her free hand, and realizes she’s never seen Olive wearing it before. It’s too big for the other woman, and littered in various patches and insignias. Yes, it must belong to Douglass. 

“Dougie’s?” Val asks, gesturing with her elbow to the jacket. . 

“Yeah! Sewed all these on himself,” Olive beams at her. “Ain't it neat?”

“He…he did…Sewed…himself?” Val practically balks, turning to Olive with her eyes wide. 

“Yeah!”

“Ol, I've been sewing all of his patches and clothes!” Val exclaims, green eyes wide. “Ever since Ev and I started seeing each other, I’ve taken care of all the guys in their fort.”

“Oh?”

“Wait till I get my hands on him...” She sighed as they approached the fort, ducking under the wing to find both their men, and select members of the crew laying about on the hardstand. 

“Well lookie here!” Dougie exclaimed, standing as he spotted the girls approaching. Ev, who had been leaning back against the wheel, scrambling to stand upon spotting Val. “What are you two doing all the way out here?”

“Garcia wanted us to share some news.” Olive grinned, glancing at Val. 

“Yeah? Well, let’s have it then.”

“Thirty minute delay!” They both yelled at the same time, Olive doing a little wiggle of her hands and hips to try and make it entertaining. 

Both boys immediately fell into laughter, even Charlie Via joining in from where he was still on the ground. Somehow, Val knew it wasn’t just about making their boys laugh, but the whole crew. 

“Is The Clubmobile serving snacks and putting on a show now, Maude?” Everett grinned, throwing an arm over Val’s shoulder as she kissed him on the cheek, his coffee still in her hand. 

“Hey, get it for free while you can.” Olive winked, taking Dougie’s coffee from Val and handing it over. “Olive and The Clubmobile Gals,” Val smiled. “It’s got some jazz to it!”

“You gonna be a star, Maude? Take care of all of us?”

“You bet, Ernest.” She laughs as Dougie wraps his arms around her waist and gives her a squeeze before stopping in his tracks at the wild look Val is giving him. 

“Uh, Val?”

“I’ve got a bone to pick with you James Douglass…”

“Uhm, can you leave my bones? I need to drop bombs in a few hours and well, I need them.”

“Oh, you’re in trouble baby.” Olive titters, hand covering her mouth in an attempt to hide her giggle. 

“You! Sewing!”

“Oh… yeah, heh… well, I know when I’ve been caught.”

“Dougie! I’ve been sewing all your clothes and patches for months now!”

“I know,” he laughs at Val’s annoyed expression, and she can see the gears turning behind his eyes. “It just makes me feel safer when you do it.”

Val’s face softens immediately, falling back against Ev once more as Olive lets out an aww at Doug’s confession. How could she argue with that? 

“Aw, darling, that's so sweet!” Olive kisses his cheek softly, unable to hide the affection for him in that moment. 

“The puppy dog eyes work every time.” Doug smiled down at her, thinking that Val was preoccupied with Everett. 

“You’re a little shit, Doug!” She hollered from where she stood, Ev pulling her aside so that they could have a quiet moment, while Olive and Doug did the same. 

“So…Garcia really drove you two all the way out here?”

“He did. He thought you might need another hot coffee, or a kiss goodbye.”

“He said that?”

“Well, not in such a way, but, yes.”

“So you brought me hot coffee and a kiss hmm?”

“I did! Are you happy?”

“Well, all I got was a kiss on the cheek, but maybe if you-”

Val wasted not a moment longer before leaning up on her toes to reach Everett’s lips, neither caring if her Victory Red stained his own lips, she just wanted to feel closer to him. 

“Better?”

“Much better,” holding her against his chest, she felt him press his nose into her hair, and just barely heard the sound of him taking a deep breath, as if he was committing the scent of her to memory. “You know I love the real thing.”

“You mean my lipstick smudged all over you.” 

“That’s exactly what I mean.”

“Fresh,” she wiped at his lip with her thumb, her movements slowing as she tried to force herself to believe that he would come back to her. “I can’t send you off to Africa with lipstick all over your mouth.”

“No I don’t suppose it would be a good look would it.”

“Bring me back something?” She posed the question lightly, casually, as if he had said he was going to the corner store and she asked him to get her an ice cream bar. 

“Not sure what they have in Africa, but, I’ll see what I can rustle up.”

“Thanks handsome.” She winked, and was about to kiss him again when the sound of someone approaching caused her to stop short. 

“I thought I heard yous girls!”

“Hi Curt,” she turned and flashed him an impossibly tight smile, and he knew he had just interrupted a potential kiss, like any good brother would. “Yes, you heard us.”

“What are ya doing out here hmm?”

“Garcia drove us out so we could tell the boys about the delay.”

“Jeez Blakely, you get the news from two pretty ladies and I gotta hear it from Garcia? What gives!”

“Get yourself a pretty Red Cross girl, Curt, and maybe you won’t have to see Garcia every time there’s a delay,” Ev laughed, slapping his friend on the shoulder before walking away. “I’ll give you both a minute, yeah?”

“Thanks honey.” 

“Yeah, thanks honey!” Curt called after him, only to be met with Ev Blakely’s middle finger. 

“You deserved that.” Val gave him a gentle shove. 

“Yea I know,” Curt grinned, wrapping his arm around her waist and hugging her close. “This is some soup…”

“Reminds me of the fog that rolls in off the water back home.”

“Always spooked me as a kid.”

“Still gives me the chills now…”

The pair stood there under the cover of Just A Snappin’s wing, silent as the mist swirled around them, trying to find something in the distance that wasn’t obscured in haze. She wasn’t sure how to say goodbye for this particular flight. Usually, Curt would snatch his coffee from her, give her a cheeky goodbye and run to the truck, much like he had done earlier. But this time, that dream was weighing on her again, and she didn’t know if it was just a fear, or a premonition. 

“What’s eating ya?”

“Hmm?”

“I know when somethings bugging ya, so come on, let’s hear it.”

“It’s nothing,” she dismissed his prying, not sure how he’d react if she told him. “Silly, really.”

“Tell me, cause I ain't gonna be able to go up there knowing you’re down here upset over something.”

“I had a really strange dream last night…”

“Okay, well, I bet it’s not all that strange,” he softened at the expression on her face. “You wanna tell me about it?”

“It was like, I was watching my life in front of me, after the war. There was a house, and Everett, and…”

“And?”

“And a baby…”

“Gal, that ain’t anything to be so worried about! That sounds like a pretty good life to me!”

“It was… until you weren’t there.”

“I wasn’t?”

“No, at least, I don’t think so… Ev was talking to the baby, and I just remember that he said that I missed you a lot, and that sometimes I got sad.”

“Hey, if you’re worried that you and Blakely are gonna go and tie the knot and I ain’t gonna be around anymore, well, I got news for ya…”

“You better be around, Curt,” she turned to him, eyes filled with tears she was afraid to shed in front of him. “Nothing stupid up there, okay? I mean it!”

“I promise ya, I’m coming back.”

“I love you, you pain in the ass…”

“I love ya too…”

She pulled him close, arms wrapped tightly around his neck as she completely disregarded his gear, mae west, and jacket to hold her friend just a little longer. For once, Curt didn’t try and joke with her, or brush her off for being  worried. The weight of this mission, the length of it, the time away, it had everyone a little on edge. So he hugged her back just as tight. The way he did when she had her heart broken back home, or when her Nonno passed away when they were teenagers; the way he always would for as long as they had each other. 

“I wish you had let me braid you a new bracelet…” She mumbled into his neck. 

“This one’s still good, I know it,” he gave her a gentle squeeze before pulling away to see her face. “Cause you made it, and it’s got all the eye-talian luck in the world.”

“My mother would crack you good for that.”

“What? Tying it back on, or saying Italian the way I did?”

“Both.” She laughed, wiping at her eyes. 

“Hey, wipe those eyes, alright? I’ll be back before ya know it.”

“You better, because it takes too long to break in a new best friend.”

“You got that right gal…” 

He hugged her one final time before stepping back, and with a wink, disappeared into the mist. 

She sucked in a sharp breath as he walked away, only turning back towards the fort once she could no longer see him. Even the way he said goodbye had her feeling eerie. Christ, she hated this god damn soup. She tried to swipe at her eyes so no one would know she had been crying, but it was no use as Everett stood from his spot on the ground to meet her halfway. 

“Okay?”

“Nope,” she admitted, knowing that he had seen her face and it would be useless to try and hide it from him. “But, I will be. I just…”

“You say goodbye?”

“It sounds so final.”

“It’s not,” he reassured her, hugging her against his side as he walked her back towards their friends. “It’s just temporary.”

“Yea, Africa and back.” She groaned. 

“Come on, come sit.”

“Ev…”

“I’ve got a riddle? Would that cheer you up?”

“A riddle?”

“Yup!” 

He takes his previous spot on the ground next to Doug, gently tugging her down until she’s sitting between his spread legs, her back to his front; the two of them fit snugly together like a puzzle piece. Just as he’s about to speak, Dougie raises a hand to stop him, gesturing to Croz who’s laying next to them, head propped up on his bag and briefcase, crush cap covering his face. 

“Let him sleep!” Val hisses, knowing that he’d need his rest just as much as the rest of them, if not more with his airsickness. 

“Nah.” Doug grinned wickedly before furiously tapping on the navigator's leg to wake him. 

Croz grumbles and wakes with a light snort, his brow furrowed and face painted in annoyance as he spots Doug grinning next to him. 

“What, Doug?” “Ev’s gonna tell us a riddle!” “You woke me up for a riddle?” “I figured your brain could use the exercise.” Dougie teased him, the girls laughing as Crosby swatted at him.

“Alright, fine,” Harry sighed over dramatically. “Go on, Blakely, the floor is yours.”

Ev takes a drag from his Lucky Strike before beginning, clearing his throat and indulging in the dramatics for the sake of his audience before he speaks. “You’re on the way to purgatory–” “Purgatory?” Olive cuts him off, eyes wide. “Yes, Maude, purgatory,” he nods. “You’re on the way to purgatory; one road goes to Valhalla, the other goes to Hell, damnation.”

“Uh huh?” Croz leans forward, his tired face now clouded with confusion and curiosity.

“On each of the roads, is a goblin-”

“A goblin?” Olive cuts in again, trying to stifle a giggle. “Ernest, where is this going?”

“If you’ll let me get through more than one line, English, you'll find out,” he sighs, making a face at her. “Anyway! One goblin always tells the truth, the other is a tricky little fucker, he always lies.”

“An imp!” Olive chuckles, catching Val’s eye.

“Birichino,” she offers up, winking at Ev. “That's what Ma calls Curt.”

“What’s the one question that you need to ask, that’s gonna tell you the right way to go?” Ev finished, pulled Val closer so he could rest his chin on her shoulder. 

“Would you ask them which is the good goblin?” Olive turned to Ev after a moment of pondering. 

“I was about to say that!” Croz crowed, frisbeeing his crush cap at her with a laugh.  

“You snooze, you lose, Harry!” Olive grinned as she threw the cap back at him. 

Val watched her friend's playful banter; Croz feigning injury at Olive’s throwing of his hat, while Dougie held her close and nuzzled into her for as long as he could. Behind her, Ev was laughing, his grip on her tight as he held her close and continued to soak up every moment he could on the ground with them. 

“Okay, okay! I’ve got one!” Doug announced, grin wide as he caught Olive’s eye. 

“You have a riddle?” Val raised her brow at him, her fingers fumbling in Ev’s pocket for his lighter as she placed a cigarette between her lips .  

“Yup!”

“Well then, regale us with your riddle, Doug!” She grins, passing the now lit cigarette over to Olive. 

“What's the difference between a hippo, and a–”

“And a zippo?” Ev finished with a laugh. “Dougie, we've heard that one a thousand times now, pal.”

Even though they’ve all heard the joke multiple times, Olive begins to giggle, which makes Doug smile. 

“Yeah, but that’s why I tell it,” he grins. “To see the prettiest smile in East Anglia.”

“I love it,” Olive titters, reaching up to kiss him. “Never stop telling it, okay?”

“I know you do,” he winks, kissing her back just as lovingly. “And I love y–”

“Hey! That a flare?” Croz abruptly ends their sweet moment, his eyes narrowing as he tries to make sense of the blurry green light in the distance that's now plummeting to the ground. 

“Time to go fellas.” Ev commands with a groan, his crew jumping up at his tone. 

He stands, pulling Val with him, and immediately pulls her in and kisses her. They’re vaguely aware of his crew scrambling to get up and into the fort around them, shouts of men and the sound of gear being chucked into the belly of Just A Snappin as he held her for just a moment longer. 

“Come home, please.” Val whispered as they broke for air, foreheads pressed together. 

“Nothing could keep me from you,” he pressed his cheek to hers before his lips pressed to the shell of her ear. “When I get back…”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah… I’ll find us somewhere.”

“I love you, and not just because…” 

“I know. I Love you too,” he pressed his lips to hers once more, her arms tightening around him until she’s sure she could hear his ribs clicking. “Now go, it’s going to get busy down here in a minute. And windy.”

Pulling away, she gave him one final squeeze before she joined Olive at the edge of the hardstand, the pair of them immediately gripping onto each other's hand, watching as Doug, and finally Everett, pulled themselves up and into the fort. It wasn’t until they could see Doug in the nose and Ev in the cockpit that they wavers  before they began to walk back to the Clubmobile. Helen and Tattie were no doubt wondering where they were. 

“You heard that, right?” Olive’s grasp on her hand tightening. “What Dougie said before the flare went up, you heard it?”

“Oh, I heard it, Val giggles, stopping and turning on the spot as the sound of Meatballs’ harness jingles in the distance before he joins them. “He loves you!”

“I didn't think–” Olive fumbles for the leash, grasping it finally and holding on tight. 

“Olive Lewis!” She pulls on her friend's arm, the Brooklyn of her accent really adding an extra umph to Olive’s name. “I will give you a slap.”

“I'm not… I just…” 

“We can all see how much he loves you and how much you love him too!” Val sighs. “You'd have to be blind to not notice it.”

“Are we really that obvious?”  

“Limpido come il giorno.”

“In English, please.” Olive rolls her eyes. 

“It’s as clear as day.” Val winks, continuing on with their walk. 

—————————————————————-

By the time the girls returned to the truck, all the forts had gone up and Thorpe Abbotts was bathed in almost near silence. If you didn’t count Meatball barking as soon as he saw Helen and Tattie sitting outside. Helen is coughing over a cigarette again, while Tattie puffs away unbothered, Olive wasting no time in stomping over to Helen and snatching the cigarette from her. 

“Would you stop!”

“I can’t seem to get the hang of it.” Helen sighs, not even fighting Olive. 

“Then don’t, silly! You’re only making yourself sick!”

Helen is about to reply when the sound of a group approaching behind the Clubmobile get louder, and Rosie and his crew break through the fog, some of the men kidding with each other until they spot the four women. Nash immediately breaks away from his friends to join Helen, the brunette suddenly no longer worries about arguing with Olive over the cigarettes. Rosie stops by the truck, Tattie now inside as she peers down at him, while Pappy has gravitated to Olive, pulling Speas with him. 

“Hiya boys!” Tattie calls down to them, cigarette in hand as she picks up what’s left of the morning’s donuts and brings them to the window. “Last few donuts are yours if you want them!”

“Thanks Tattie.” Rosie smiles up at her, shaking his head as he spots Nash already engaged in deep conversation with Helen. 

Val is in the middle of listening to Pappy go on about how he’s already written to his mother to tell her about his long lost cousin, Olive, when Tattie yells from the window of the Clubmobile with a smile. 

“Hey girls! Whaddya say we name this ole girl,” she pats the side of the truck. “A lot of other Clubmobiles in England are naming their trucks.”

“Yeah? Where’d you hear that, Tat?” Val yelled back. 

“Got a copy of The Sinker,” she clarified, a newsletter that was put together by Red Cross gals for Red Cross gals. “A couple of the other Red Cross girls are naming their trucks, thought we should too!”

“What should we name it?” Helen turned from her conversation with Nash just as Val and Olive walked over to join them, Pappy and Speas right behind. 

“What about something to do with the state you girls are from?” Pappy offered. 

“Pappy, really?” Olive turned to him, arms folded over her chest. “I don’t have a state.”

“Oh, right…”

“Tat? Any suggestions?”

“Hmm, ‘Do-Nut Enter?”

“What about All Things Nice?” Helen offered with a shrug. “We’ve got the sugar on the donuts, Val’s the spice, we’re all things nice!”

“Why thank you Helen!”

“Olive, any ideas?” Helen turned to her just as she moved to give Meatball a little love, the husky whining in protest of Helen’s suggested name, his head lolled to the side as Olive got his favorite spot behind his ears. 

“I got nothing,” she sighed. “My brain is fried.”

“That would be the lack of sleep,” Tattie fixed her with a look and a wink, the woman giving way to the fact that she knew Olive wasn’t sleeping well as of late. “I’ve got my eye on you, English.”

“I’ve got it! Something to do with Meatball!” Val exclaimed, eyes bright as the dog perked back up at the mention of his name. “Yes, you, you silly dog…”

“But what?” Olive looked between them, brows furrowed as she tried to come up with something. 

“What about Spaghetti n’ Meatball!” Val grinned, eyes bright as she turned to survey her friends for their reaction. 

“Oh, that’s precious!” Olive practically squealed, looking between everyone else. “Don’t you all think?” 

“Spaghetti n’ Meatball it is.” Tattie grinned with a soft smile and a shake of her head, Helen readily agreeing with a bright smile. 

They had corralled Kenny and Wink into helping them paint the side of the Clubmobile with the promise of hot coffee and a fresh batch of donuts. Billy and Sammy had followed them back to the truck when they found out that they were going to see Miss Val and Miss Olive, the promise of donuts making the two boys run at the speed of light. They had settled with Meatball almost immediately, the Husky basking in all the extra attention he was getting, while the boys got to work on painting the new name on their Clubmobile. The girls had sent Rosie and Pappy off in search of something that could be used as a ribbon- if we’re going to do it might as well do it right- while Nash had stayed glued to Helen’s side as she cleaned up inside the truck with Val. 

“Miss Val?” she looked down and saw Sammy was looking up at her. Ev liked to tease her that little Sammy had a crush on her. 

“Yes Sammy? How can I help you?” She grinned with a flourish, making sure that she paid him a little extra attention just to see him smile. 

“Could we have another coffee like this morning, please?”

“More coffee, hmm?” She pretended to ponder it, looking around the inside of the truck to see if there was anything left for them, when she spotted a D bar off to the side, and some milk that would end up being tossed if it wasn’t finished. “How about I make you something else? Something better than coffee?”

“There’s something better than coffee?” Billy had joined him, abandoning his post next to Meatball. 

“When I was your age, absolutely!”

“What is it?”

“Hot chocolate,” she winked, picking up the candy bar and waving it in front of her face. “Best thing in the world.”

“COOL!” They shouted, and she knew that they would take anything she made for them, simply because they loved her and the other girls so much. 

So while Val set about warming the milk and making a treat for the boys, both of them dutifully back on either side of Meatball, Kenny came up to the truck. Wiping his hands on his coveralls, he snatched a donut from the tray on the window, popping it in his mouth with enough exaggerated flair that had Val shaking her head. 

“Hey! You didn’t ask Miss Val!” Billy looked up at Ken. 

“That’s alright, me and Miss Olive have an agreement.”

“What do you mean you have an agreement?” Val looked down at him as she ceased breaking apart the candy to mix with the warm milk. “Olive, what does he mean?”

“Nothing, it’s nothing,” she brushed her off. “Just Kenny being Kenny.” 

“Yeah?”

“It’s nothing!”

“Okay, I’m sorry…” 

The topic is quickly dropped as Helen and Tattie come back to the truck trailing what looks like toilet paper, mischief in their eyes, as Rosie and Pappy trailed behind them looking like the accomplices Val was positive they had been. 

“We have a ribbon!”

“We have toilet paper…” Val laughed. 

“It’s the best we could do.” Tattie laughed, her and Helen stretching it from one side of the truck to the other. 

‘I feel like I committed treason…” Pappy shook his head, eyes downcast. 

“I doubt you committed treason, Pappy,” Val laughed, coming out of the truck with the drinks for the boys, just as Chicky approached the Clubmobile. “If anything you got up to no good.”

“Alright girls, who’s twenty-two sheet ration did you take for this?” He drawls, cigar in hand as he gestures to the toilet paper ribbon. 

“Yours, sir,” Tattie grins at him, knowing that he won’t say anything as she gives him a cheeky smile. “On three…”

Tattie gestures for Chicky to “cut the ribbon” on their official ceremony, but just as she gets to three and he reaches to rip the toilet roll, Meatball jumps up from where he’s been sitting and tears into the toilet paper, wrestling the sheets to the ground with a growl. 

“Meatball!” Everyone groans, peals of laughter spilling out into the open as the husky looks terribly pleased with himself. Even Chicky gives the dog a laugh, the moment seeming to be just what they all need after the morning. 

—————————————————

The Officers Club is practically empty, and it sends a chill through Val as she looks around the room. There’s a few men milling about, and the band is only a handful of men tonight, the music low and slow simply to fill the silence. Chicky and Red are off by the bar, the pair of them deep in conversation, as the girls take up their usual spot, Rosie and Pappy, Nash and Speas filling the seats that were usually occupied by Everett and Doug and the rest of their friends. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Rosie and his boys- quite the opposite as he filled her with this familiarity that only came with home- but she would have preferred that the four new faces filled in the gaps with the faces currently somewhere in Africa. 

On top of all the anxiety and worry, Olive seemed to be on edge and she couldn’t pinpoint why. Granted, Doug being so far away and for more than their usual mission time was contributing to it, as she felt very similar with Everett being gone, but this was something else. This was something she wasn’t saying, and that worried her just as much as the boys being gone. Olive had gone pale before turning to face the boys at their table, the words seeming to confirm to Val that there was in fact, a secret. 

“Fellas, sorry to be a buzzkill but, I need to talk to the girls,” the words are shaky, and if at all possible, Olive turns even paler. “Alone.” “Sure thing, Miss Olive.” Rosie gives her a gentle smile, standing from his seat before gesturing for the other three men to follow him over to the bar. Pappy remains seated, arms crossed over his chest as he smiles at her, looking between Olive and the rest of the girls. 

“You too, Cousin Pappy.” “What? Why!” He protests, and Val can see Olive’s nerves turning into upset. “Because, it’s private.” She starts, gently trying to get him to leave the table. “But, we’re family!” “It’s girl stuff!” The words come out harsh, and Val sees the moment Olive realizes it, a deep sigh leaving the girl as she pinches two fingers at the bridge of her nose. 

“Say no more…” He grimaces, the thought of that alone enough to send him running for the bar and away from the table of women. 

“Okay, are you going to tell us what’s bothering you?” Tattie lights a cigarette but never falters in fixing Olive with that concerned look that seems to come second nature to her. “You’ve been off all day.” “Well, it’s just uhh…” “Is it the mission? The boys being away for longer than usual? I know this is a few days, and the first time you’ve really worried but-” Olive cuts her off with a shake of her head, the curls Val had pinned for her earlier bouncing vigorously “No, it’s not the mission,” she gasps, unable to catch her breath before speaking again. “There’s something–oh, Jesus Christ…” 

“Something, what?” Helen leans across the table, eyes wide. 

“I need to tell you something about me, about my life, and I’m worried - terrified - that you all won’t believe me.” “We’ve heard it all, Ol,” Helen laughs, sipping her cocktail. “Oh, I doubt you’ve heard this, Helen.” “Christ sake!” Val yells, gently kicking Olive’s shin. “Spit it out, English!”

“Right, well,” with a deep breath, she turns to Tattie, giving the woman her full attention. “Tattie, you remember how I, quote, appeared suddenly?” “Yes, out of thin air apparently.” “It’s because I was on the hardstand that day. Because I fell out of a fort.” “What were you doing in a fort, Ol?” Helen places her drink down, her brow softly furrowed in confusion.

The girls watch as Olive takes a deep breath in, her face riddle with fear as the next sentence falls from her lips.

“I was in a fort because that’s how I got here,” she whispered, wringing her hands together. “I’m not from here, from this time.” “W-what?” Val feels the confusion begin to fill her, and something else she can’t quite place bubbling beneath the surface. “What do you mean you’re not…” 

“I’m from the future,” Olive whispers again, her eyes falling to her hands. “I’m from the year two thousand and twenty one.”

“Excuse me?” Val balks, green eyes wide. 

“In my time, I climbed into a model fort because I thought I heard a dog barking for help in there and I fell out, here.” “Olive–” Helen is staring at her in awe, unsure of what else to say, while Tattie simply watches as what appears to be a weight the size of a B-17 falls from Olive’s shoulders. “Does anyone else know?” Val demands, and for the first time, she sees Olive shrink back from her, the worry only growing. “Kenny, and now Benny.” Olive nods, her gaze never leaving her hands. “Before me?!” Val cries, and that something else she had felt bubbling beneath the surface reveals itself to be sadness. “I thought we were friends, Olive.” “We are!” she yells in response as Val stands, tears filling her green eyes, and marches  towards the door. “I didn’t know what else to do!”

She’s vaguely aware of Tattie quietly telling Olive not to follow her as she breeches the door and meets the cool night air. The sounds of the club fall silent as the door shuts behind her and she continues on until she reaches the Red Cross hut. There’s no one to walk her back, and almost no one milling about outside to stop and talk to, which gets her back faster than normal. When she’s inside, the door shut, it dawns on her that for the first time all day, she’s alone. 

“Sorry Meatball…” 

The husky is curled up on her bed, head on his paws as he looks up at her, immediately sensing that something isn’t right with one of his girls. He lets out a whine as she drops down onto the bed to curl up with him, her hands burying themselves in his fur just to stay busy while she tries to stave off the tears she knows are trying to fight their way out. How could Kenny and Benny come before her? Before Dougie, even? And how true was it all really? The future… it didn’t seem possible and yet, something in her gut told her that Olive wasn’t lying about it. It was the part that made the least amount of sense, and should have had her more angry than she was, wanting answers and explanations, but it didn’t matter now. What mattered was that Val had thought for the first time she had a best friend that wasn’t, well, Curtis Biddick. Another girl she could confide her deepest secrets and dreams with, gush over her boyfriend with, but the world  hadn’t seen fit to that. It had been made perfectly clear to her that Olive felt different than she did, if Val hadn’t been privy to one of her secrets, when she had divulged one of her biggest to her not even 48 hours prior. 

“Can I come in?” Olive’s head comes around the door frame, her knuckles gently rapping against the doorframe even as she opens it. .

“It’s a free country.” Val’s tone is sulky, voice muffled as she presses her face into Meatball’s fur. She catches Olive’s hesitation before she decidedly sits on the bed across from hers. 

“I’m sorry,” Olive’s just as quiet as she is. “I wanted to tell you, I just–” “Just what?” Val snaps, sitting up to finally look at her properly, Olive’s eyes filled with tears much like her own. “Decided to tell Kenny and DeMarco before I even got a look in?” “I didn’t tell them, Val. They caught me.” “I’m sorry, what?” “Kenny caught me one night and I couldn’t lie to him,” she sighed. “Truth be told, I’d had one too many that night and didn’t have my wits about me.” “What about DeMarco?” “Meatball gave me away this morning when I was coming back,” Meatball huffs indignantly at the mention of his name in a negative manner, Olive and Val rolling their eyes at him. “Yes, I’m talking about you, silly dog.”

“So you did want to tell me,..”

“More than anything, but I just couldn’t figure out how!”

“So why now all of a sudden,” Val leans over to pull a tissue from her side table, dabbing at her eyes as she continues to seek answers. “Why do this when we’re all so riddled with nerves over this mission?”

“It was getting too risky. There were so many things today that almost gave me up, and I was really starting to feel terrible about lying to everyone.”

“Mhmm…”

“Especially you, Val. You’re my person.”

“I assumed that would be Dougie.” Val’s tone is snarky, but the smile that stretches across her face tells Olive that maybe, just maybe, this is all going to be okay. 

“Romantically, he’s my man. But you…” Olive grins brightly at her. “This shit is for life.”

“Best friends?” Val sounds hopeful, the tears finally dry and she thinks that, yes, she hasn’t lost this sweet part of her life. 

“Forever.” Olive beams, reaching across to the bunk and taking Val’s hand in hers. 

“You know, you’re the first best friend I’ve had that isn’t Curt, and I got scared that maybe it was all too good to be true and you didn’t want to be my friend because I’m too crass or loud, or difficult.”

“Who the hell ever said that about you!” Olive crowed. 

“Olive…”

“Oh Val, what did that man do to you hmm?” 

Olive sighed, knowing that the version of Val they all got on a daily basis was clouded with self conscious fear of being too much as she was once dubbed, by someone she had thought to care about her. 

“I’m sorry for being such a big baby,” she sniffs, shaking her head at her own annoyance. “I just don’t like being left out. And when it came from you, I felt like…well… sad.”

“Does anybody, chicken?” Olive laughs to try and lighten the mood. “Wait, you believe me?”

“Yes, I believe you,” Val nods along with her words, catching Olive’s eyes widened at her confession. “It makes a lot of sense if you think about it. Your hair, nails never done, makeup needing fixing-”

“Yes yes, Helen already ate me up about all that.” 

“Ate you up?” A snort leaves Val, her hand coming up to cover her mouth as Olive giggles at the sound. 

“Chewed me up and spat me right out!”

“Oh that’s excellent, I love it! Not that she, ‘ate you up’, no the expression! I’ll be stealing that, English.”

“I thought you might like that one.”

It’s a quiet, comfortable silence, the hut filled with only the sound of Meatball’s light snores, as the girls take stock of everything that had unfolded in under an hour. The day itself, the anxiety, their boys somewhere terribly far away as they hoped that they had made it safely, and would return safely. Secrets aired and confessions laid bare as friendships were put to the test. Olive and Val both worried if they would be able to see through to the other side, and yet, it seemed nothing could keep the two women from sticking together through dark days and blue skies. 

“Any more secrets you’d like to tell me?” Val squinted at her playfully. “We may as well get it all out in the open now.”

“There’s nothing much to tell, really. Dead dad, abandoned by my mum and raised by Pearl.”

“Oh Ol… me too. The first part.”

“Really?”

“Yes, he passed away when I was very little. I don’t even remember him.”

Was that a blessing, that she didn’t have memories to be twisted painfully? Or was it more painful to not have those memories? She’d never truly be able to decide which side of the coin was easier to deal with. 

“I’m so sorry honey,” Olive sighed, and Val knew exactly how she felt. “It’s not a fun club to be a member of, is it.”

“Club?”

“Yes, the dead dad club. I got my badge when I was thirteen.”

“It was always me, mama and Nonna. And then, Curt and Mama Biddick seemed to just fall into place as part of our family.”

“I only ever had Pearl, after. My mum didn’t take it well at all but then, who would?” Val watches as Olive pulls a dainty gold locket from her shirt, gently opening, keeping the two halves closed, it before looking up at her again. “Would you like to see him?”

“I’d be honored.” Val grinned, coming from her bed to perch next to her friend. 

Val watches closely as Olive carefully opens the locket to reveal a small, heart shaped photo inside. She’s momentarily stunned by the color photo, but her eyes seem to soften as she takes in the image of the man holding a who she already knows is baby Olive. He looks proud, and positively in love with the small girl in his arms, and suddenly, she realizes that neither side of the coin is easier to deal with. Loss with or without knowing, is still loss, and it still stings something fierce. 

“You look just like him, chickie. The same eyes,” she glances up at Olive with a bright smile. “Wow! That’s your dad.” “That’s my dad. My Papa,” Olive breathes on a smile, closing the locket once more and keeping the man inside safe. “He was a sweetheart.” “Do you think he’d approve of Dougie?” “Without a doubt!” She grinned brightly “Both of them have the same silly sense of humor. I’m beginning to think James has a hotline to heaven with those jokes of his.”

“And this? You, here with us?” “I think he would, yes. I think he’d just be happy to see me happy.”

“That’s good…”

“It all scares me silly, Val,” her voice wavered, not unlike the way it had earlier in the club. “He’s gone, and once Pearl goes, I’m all alone.” “That’s twice today you’ve made me want to smack you,” Val scolds, wrapping her arms around her in a hug that takes Olive no time to reciprocate. “You are far from alone, Olive Lewis, who fell out of the sky and into my life. You will always have me, and our little family.” “You’re not  just blowing smoke up my arse?” “Would I ever?” Val raises an eyebrow at her in challenge, and Olive immediately laughs at how silly she looks. 

“Come on,” Olive suggests, pulling Val up off the bed. “We’d better get back.”

“We left Helen and Tat with those boys didn’t we…”

“We did,” Olive laughs. “Besides, I have something to show you.”

She’s digging in her bag when the door to the hut swings open, Helen and Tattie appearing with smiles on their faces and rosy cheeks. It’s Tattie who looks to have indulged just a bit more than she usually does, leaning on Helen as they enter the hut together. 

“What on earth is that thing?” Tattie laughs, pointing at the object Olive had been digging in her purse for. 

“Sorry, we wanted to check on you both.” Helen explains, sitting Tattie down on her bed. 

“Yeah, the conversation with Rosie and the boys was less than riveting after a while. Ha! Riveting! Get it?”

“Oh Tattie…” Val laughs, coming to sit beside her, pulling her into a one armed hug. “Please don’t ever change, okay?”

“Why would I- hey, what’s that in your hand, English?” The words are slightly slurred, and suddenly all eyes are on Olive. 

“What the fuck is that!” Helen exclaims, pointing at the object now sitting in Olive’s open palm. “Olive!”

“This is my proof.” She smiles, hand outstretched so that the other girls could see just what she was holding. 

It’s a thin rectangle, shiny, and Olive seems to be taking great care with it. There’s nothing to give away what it might be, but then Olive slides her finger up the front and it lights up, all three girls screaming as if it might bite them right on the nose. 

“What is it!” Val looks wild eyed and unsure.  “It’s a phone,” Olive explains. “Or as Lemmons likes to call it, a doo-hicke.” 

“But there’s no wire! Or buttons!” Helen exclaims, her total soft nature just a bit more emboldened by the alcohol and the mood. 

“Well, they don’t make them with buttons or wires anymore in the future.”

“No shit!” Tattie laughs. 

“I can’t do much with it here but, I can play some music, and take pictures.” “Pictures on a telephone?” Val shouts, finally standing and grabbing it from Olive in a flurry. “Let me see!”

Olive taps a button, and the screen suddenly changes, and all at once Val is face to face with herself and Olive looking back at her in the small screen.

“Look, it’s us!”

“Oh my god…” Val whispers, turning her head this way and that, the image never faltering, like a mirror. “B-but, how?” “Magic.” Olive replies. 

“Magic…wow!” Tattie smiles from the bed, watching as Olive shows Val the mysterious phone. “Take our picture!” Val demands suddenly. “Shit, alright, calm down there DiRosano.”

Olive holds the phone out in front of her, and quickly snaps a picture, laughing at the shocked look on Val’s face as the end result reveals itself to them. 

“Oh no, that’s terrible and now you wasted film!”

“There’s no film,” Olive grins, showing Val as she clicks what looks like a small trash can and the photo is gone. “It’s… well, technology is complicated.”

“No film?!”

“None. Here, let’s try again.”

“Okay…”

“Smile pretty, like Ev is looking at you.” Olive teases, and just as she suspected, Val falls into a fit of giggles beside her just as she snaps the photo. 

“Well, would you look at that!” Olive proudly shows Val the photo, and her green eyes go wide as she inspects it. 

Side by side, laughing together. Just as Val had hoped their friendship would be. 

“That’s…oh wow! Olive!”

“Right? Pretty cool!”

“Can we try?” Helen pipes up from where she’s perched next to Tattie. 

“Yes, of course!”

And so Olive spends the next hour taking photos of her friends and showing them how to use the camera for themselves. Val is adamant that if everyone on base knew about this, that poor Joe would be out of a job in the officers club each night, but the four girls have sworn to each other not to breathe a word of this to anyone who doesn’t already know. 

“How about some music?”

“Let me guess, there’s a teeny tiny Victorla in there?” Val laughs. 

“No, it’s, again, complicated.” Olive giggles, picking up a spare glass that’s on the vanity and sitting the phone inside of it. 

“A glass?”

“Helps it sound better.”

“Okay then… show us more magic then, English!” 

“Yes ma’am Miss Tattie!” Olive mock salutes as she taps on the screen again. 

It’s unlike anything Val has ever heard, and yet, she can’t find it in herself to stop bouncing around at all the different songs that Olive plays for them. It’s loud, and some of it is a little harsh, but she kind of likes it. 

“You’ll like this singer, Val. Her name is Madonna.”

“Like, La Madonna the Virgin Mary?”

“Yes, like that.”

“Jesus Christ… what an odd name to give your child!”

“It’s not her real name, it’s more of a stage name.”

“Still!”

And then she’s dancing around the hut again, and Olive is singing the words along with the song as she takes her hands and they dance together. Its girlhood at its absolute purest and neither of them can even be bothered to care about how their curls are coming undone and their uniforms are getting wrinkled. They’re simply happy. 

“What do you think Ev will like?” Val asks later, quietly curled up next to Olive on one of the bunks. “I’ll bring some of my dads old vinyls from Pearl’s on my next visit back, and we’ll find out!” Olive grins. 

“Do you think they’re okay?”

“Ev and Doug? Yea, I do…” Olive sighs, giving Val’s hand a squeeze. 

“All of them…”

“Yea, all of them.”

They’re interrupted by a soft snore coming from the other side of the room, Tattie knocked out in her uniform. Helen gently covers her with a blanket, her shoes long since discarded, and with a giggle, holds a finger to her lips to get everyone to shush. 

“She’s on to something,” Olive yawns. “I’m knackered.” “Nah-kurred!” Both Val and Helen tease quietly, Val poking Olive softly on the nose.

“Oh leave it, Yanks!” “Oooh, she’s getting bold!” “Yes, now that I know we’re all four of us stuck together forever, I can be myself.” “Good,” Val says, planting a kiss on her cheek as she stands up and moves to her own bunk. “I don’t want to see anymore funny business from you.”

“Ma’am yes ma’am!” Olive gives her a sloppy two finger salute, much the same way that Doug always does. 

“You look like Dougie when you do that.” Helen giggled, her pajamas now on as she shuffles beneath her blankets. 

“Off to dream of Jimmy Stewart again, Hel?”

“Yes,” she yawns. “Maybe this time Val won’t wake me before I get my big kiss.”

“I’ll do my best.” 

Val gets into her own pajamas just as Olive does the same, leaving a soft kiss to the dog tag that bears Everett’s name before taking her rosary into her hands and saying a quick prayer before bed. Just before she turns the lights out, she catches Olive pulling Dougie’s jacket from the end of the bed and put it on over her sleep clothes. She watches as the sweet English girl who fell from the sky presses her nose into the collar. Depositing her rosary, Val picks up the phone carefully and, following Olive’s earlier instructions, takes a quick photo of her curled into James Douglass’ jacket before switching the lights off. 

“I love you, DiRosano” Olive whispers, sleep slurring her words. “Love you more, English.” Val grins. 

Silently, she says goodnight to Everett, hoping her words and her prayers reach him safely in Africa. That he returns home soon, with his crew and their friends intact. That Curt had kept his promise of not doing anything stupid, and that they’d all be together soon. There was a lot to catch up on. 

A/N: Thanks for reading! This series will continue for Blakely & Val, so if you enjoyed this, please like, comment, reblog- whichever is your poison. Feedback is always welcome & my ask box is always open. If you want to be added to my tag list, or removed, let me know!

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[nostalgiclittlespace]

May I request CG!Angel with a newborn reader who is struggling to get them down for a nap? He tries everything but they just won’t settle.

I cannot thank you enough for your patience on this. I hope you enjoy! And I promise y’all requests will start coming out a lot faster now!

SWF AGE REGRESSION FIC. DNI IF NSFW, KINK, PROSHIP, OR SIMILAR. DO NOT REPOST TO OTHER SITES Pairing: Caregiver!Angel & Little!reader

Title: Soft Spider, Sleepy Baby

Description: Angel has tried everything in the book, but his Little just won’t take their long overdue nap. He hates feeling so helpless, but maybe he’s better at this than he thinks.

Word count: 921

Soft Spider, Sleepy Baby

Putting a newborn regressor down for a nap will be the easiest thing I’ve ever done! Angel had once thought.  Emphasis on once, because from the very first time he ever put you, his precious little one, down to sleep, he realized just how difficult it could actually be.

No matter how many routines he tried, nothing would consistently work.  Lullabies, rocking chairs, bottles, being held—nothing!  It was as if Hell had found another way to play a cruel joke on him.

That wasn’t to say he didn’t enjoy taking care of his little one.  They were genuinely the sweetest, greatest thing that had happened to him, really!  He was a great Caregiver too!  But when nap time came around, when they were exhausted but unable to sleep, he couldn’t help but wonder what on earth he was doing wrong.

Hence how he found himself in his current predicament.

By now it was late afternoon; Hell’s scarlet Sun had begun to set, casting mahogany glows through the windows, enveloping the tiny nursery he had set up for you in the Hazbin Hotel.  The bottle on his dresser sat empty, but your soft, sleepless whines seemed to mock him; the warm milk hadn’t eased the Little to sleep.  Since it had been finished an hour ago, Angel had been attempting soothing motions in the rocking chair.  He had tried pacifiers numerous times too, but all three had been miserably thrown across the room in a surprising show of protest that was consistently followed by crying.

“It’s okay, baby, shhhhh,” Angel hummed, rubbing his soft finger over his baby’s cheek.  His patience was nowhere near gone, rather, hopelessness was beginning to creep in.

What am I doing wrong? Why won’t they take their nap? he thought nervously.  Yes, they commonly fought sleep, but when they were so clearly exhausted?  Is it my fault?

Sighing, Angel adjusted his grip on the Little, carefully gathering them into his four arms.  He muttered soft reassurances as he rose out of the rocking chair, officially giving up on that method.  Instead, he shifted his weight between his feet, a different soothing, almost swinging motion.  His Little whined as he moved, frustrated coos still arguing against their imposed bedtime.

Music?  No, he had tried that.

A calm movie? historically that made things worse.

A walk?…

Well it couldn’t hurt to try.  They didn’t even need to leave the Hotel; just wandering around the many corridors and enjoying a change of scenery might help.  And trying something new was certainly better than doing something unproductive again and again.

So, he hitched you in his arms again and made for the door, carefully sidestepping all the stuffed animals that had been strewn across the playroom floor.  The cries had not slowed, miserably whines pressed into his furry chest that made his heart ache.

As he emerged into the empty hallway, the sunset light met candelabras glow.  The muted lighting was relaxing, the silence surrounding them even more so.  Taking a deep breath, Angel began slowly ambling down the hall.

Maybe Charlie will have some ideas, he thought solemnly as his feet carried him and his baby towards the Hazbin Hotel’s foyer.  He had done everything he could possibly think of, and his Little was about as close to sleep as he was to redemption!

“I’m sorry, toots,” he muttered as the baby huffed quietly in his arms.  “I know you’re tired, and we’ll get you to sleep soon, I promise.”

Soon, they arrived in the lobby.  Like the rest of the Hotel, it was fairly quiet.  Husk silently moped as he manned the bar, Alastor and Niffty were nowhere in sight, and Charlie laid across the couch with a sketchbook in hand, hummin cheerfully to herself.  He approached her, utterly defeated.

“Hey, Charlie,” Angel greeted, his New York accent as heavy as his tone.

“Oh, Hi, Angel! Aw, is it someone’s nap time?” the princess gushed, smiling widely at the bundle in his arms.

“Yeah, that’s what I wanted your help with,” Angel sighed.  “No matter what I do, they just won’t settle.  And I’ve tried everything!  Do you have any ideas?  Any at all?”

Charlie’s head quirked to the side, her eyebrows raised in surprise as she processed his words.  “But, they’re already asleep, Angel?” she remarked, confused.

Angel’s eyes widened slightly, he himself surprised by the assessment, and he tipped his head downward to see for himself.  Indeed, they had gone completely limp in his arms, chest heaving soft and slow breaths.  Their thumb had found their parted lips, eyes had fluttered shut.  They really were asleep!

“Since when?” he exclaimed in a whisper.  “I’ve been trying to get them to sleep for an hour; music, bottles, pacifiers, stuffies!  And the moment I walk downstairs, they finally give in?”

“Maybe you were doubting yourself a little too much,” Charlie suggested thoughtfully.  “They didn’t want toys or blankets.  They just wanted you.”

Angel stood there for a long moment, expression blank as he processed what that meant.  Was Charlie right?  Maybe all the comfort items in the world wouldn’t do a thing if he didn’t hold them this close?

Glancing down at his Little’s relaxed expression, all traces fo distress disappeared from their face, he slowly accepted that answer.

“I guess so,” he huffed a small grin.  “I’m glad they finally fell asleep.  I can’t stand seeing them so miserable and worn out.”

“And now they’ll have plenty of energy for later,” Charlie chirped.

“Oh, yeah, they will.”

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

I haven't seen it yet but full hc for the m6 with an MC on the ADHD spectrum

The Arcana HCs: M6 with an MC who has ADHD

~ @themushroomgoesyeet hope you like these! I'm writing half from personal experience, half from what I've read and heard. Please let me know if there's anything that need correcting! ~

Julian

ADHD is a less familiar subject for him, if only because his areas of specialty so far have been contagious diseases and battle wounds

He's also not really one to judge you for difficulty keeping a sleep schedule, self-medicating with caffeine, or spending days on end obsessively learning everything you can about a specific subject

What's abundantly clear to him, though, is that you do not deserve to live with the guilt that comes from your own brain hijacking every commitment and interest that it doesn't prioritize

He knows what it's like to feel guilty for something that wasn't your fault, and he doesn't like seeing you live with it

The way he sees it, he's even more to blame for his shortcomings than you are, because you're actively working against your own brain and he's just ... sad (you'll have to tell him that this is not true)

This is going to become one of those shared challenges you tackle together as a couple

He'll write down all the bad effects of too much caffeine to motivate him to reduce your combined intake

You remind him to go to bed with you at a decent hour and call it "poetry time" instead of "bedtime" to trick both of your brains into not thinking of it as the end of the day

Asra

They love you. They love you so much. They never, ever want to get in the way of your preferences and vision

He enables you maaaybe a little more than he should

Staying up late is a great idea! Spending the entire day on your current fixation with no break to go outside or talk to people? Hey, don't let them ruin your fun ~

Thankfully, he cares about you far too much to leave you to engage in anything genuinely self destructive

Once the amount of caffeine you've consumed goes from "inadvisable" to "concerning," once your sleep schedule goes from "not ideal" to "dysfunctional", they'll step in in the gentlest way

Another cup of coffee? Let him get you some soothing tea. Another all-nighter? Snuggle him first, let him help you meditate a bit and see if you don't get drowsy

Nobody can combat executive dysfunction like this magician

All it takes is them feeling the slowly building dread through your bond, and they're lovingly poofing you off of the couch/floor/counter and into a very ticklish hug

His lifestyle is heavily ADHD coded as it is. He remains completely unfazed by the roller coaster that your brain can be

Nadia

To her, you are the best possible version of her opposite

She has a hard time changing between trains of thought. You reboot yours every time you walk through a door!

She sometimes forgets to slow down and appreciate the small things in favor of the bigger picture. You, on the other hand, are constantly pausing to notice them

And don't get her started on how much she admires your capacity to learn so much specialized knowledge in such a short period of time. It's truly astonishing and she adores it

However, she can tell that leaving it unchecked and untreated will make it difficult for you to function in the Palace's normal setup, much less follow regular routines

Quick to find a specialist in your condition and set up a few sessions with them, coming up with ways to work with your diagnoses and exploring medication options that you like

Insanely good at helping you keep your mind on track and regulate your attention and focus levels, even when it means pulling you away from a task that's about to eat up half your day

Likes to idly study the chaotic way you manage your personal spaces and try to figure out what the method to the madness is

Muriel

What, you think he's not used to living with a chaotic being that'll start three projects in a row before randomly walking out and not reappearing for several hours? Please.

Truthfully, there are some small things that annoy him. He likes predictability, and your base state of functioning is taking the next random tangent. That's not easy to not worry about

However, he knows that living with him takes plenty of patience as well. As long as you two can be patient with each other's quirks, and respectful when you lovingly intervene, that's what matters

He still loves hearing you ramble

He likes watching your eyes light up, listening to the excited lilt of your voice as you infodump all the new specialized knowledge you've gobbled up

That aside, he does love learning. Each of your new fixations is a new field of education for him by proxy

He's also someone who thrives on habit and routine and isn't afraid to put his foot down when your wellbeing is involved

He will scoop you up in his arms and lovingly carry you to bed when the bags under your eyes get too prominent and you start to nod off mid-sentence

Portia

Portia looks at you like you hung the moon. Portia thinks that every magical thing you do is mind-blowingly amazing. Portia assumes that all of your little quirks and non-habits are just you being you

Hey, if finding one specific food and eating it and only it for days on end is something you want to do, cool! Maybe it's secretly satisfying some magician's craving!

You're going to think about one thing and one thing only and learn everything there is to know about that thing? That's some badass scholarly behavior right there.

Well - except for the part where you forget something exists as soon as it's not in your hand anymore, or where time really does seem like a social construct, or where you somehow get physically and mentally stuck in one spot without being able to move

That looks ... miserable

Nobody can manage chaos like she can. She'll help you snap out of it, she'll remind you to eat and sleep and take your meds, she'll regularly ask when last you went outside or took a bath

And when you mess up - when you miss an event, or fall behind schedule, or leave things to pile up until they're too much - she'll be right next to you with an encouraging smile and plenty of grace

Lucio

This works either really well or really poorly, depending on the day, how he's doing, how you're doing, what you're both supposed to be doing, what the weather's like ...

It's unpredictable, but that's the fun of it!

Much of the time, your strong points support each other. There are few feelings Lucio hates more than boredom, but with a brain like yours around, there's always something new to try or think about

Few things cause the kind of bone-deep discouragement and guilt that constantly missing things does, but nobody values the importance of trying again like he does

On the other hand, sometimes you accidentally enable each other

Lucio's still learning the self-regulation involved with choosing to do something unpleasant and important over doing something enjoyable and completely useless

And if your brain decides that said pleasant thing is the only thing it's going to function for, well, not getting sidetracked is almost impossible. Good luck to you both

Thankfully, you both have a lifestyle that allows for unusual schedules and working styles. As long as you have each other to keep trying growing, you'll never get stuck for long

[wanderingelvis]

...I am obsessed with CG Elvis. Imagine him rocking his sleepy little while he feeds her a nighttime baby bottle of warm milk before he puts her to bed.

Here's a bedtime routine headcanon! 🍼🧚🏻

🧚🏻 Masterlist 🧚🏻

Pairing: CG!Elvis x Little F!Reader

Elvis knows that giving you a stable and structured routine is the best way to care for you, as his little

No matter what, he will always give you the same bedtime routine, even if his show overruns or he's exhausted

It's a three step routine; washing away the dirt from the day in the form of a bubble bath or a shower if you're up past your usual bedtime, Daddy and baby time wherein Elvis will pick a relaxing and soothing activity to make you feel drowsy if you're not already, and putting you to bed accompanied with kisses

It usually doesn't take much for Elvis to convince you to start going to bed, you're a compliant baby, you know Daddy knows best

He'll just crouch down by you where you're playing with your dolls and teddy bears, he'll softly utter the words, "It's my little baby's bedtime," and you'll pliantly nod, your head feeling fuzzy and tired, so you always feel even smaller than in the daytime

He'll carry you if he thinks you're too little, but usually, you'll take his large hand with your little one, your other hand clutching your bunny plushie, and let him lead you to be washed by him

You love the feeling of being washed and touched by Elvis, your Daddy knowing all the sweet spots on your body that make you feel all warm and special

And Elvis loves washing and touching you, nothing makes his heart swell like seeing you practically preen at his touch, your eyes closed in bliss

Like any good Daddy, Elvis makes sure you're squeaky clean all over before he takes you out of the tub, wrapping you in a fluffy towel

Even if you whine a little that you wanna stay in the tub, even just for little bit longer

"Uh-uh baby, you stay in that water any longer and yer fingers and toes will go all wrinkly like a prune," Elvis tells you when you do that pout and big bush baby eyes that he almost can't resist

Almost

You frown adorably. "Ew Daddy! Don't wanna be a pwune!"

"Then you gotta be a good girl and c'mere," Elvis chuckles at your sweet state

Elvis is always gentle when dressing you for bed, asking you simple questions so he can gauge how little you're feeling

Your favourite part of bedtime is when Elvis gives you your bottle of warm milk

You adore the feeling of the warm milk filling your tummy, making you feel drowsy and soft

You always sit on Elvis' lap for your bottle, his large hand slowly palming soft circles on your tummy, making your struggle to keep your eyes open

Depending on how little you're feeling, you'll hold the bottle yourself, but if you're feeling real little, your Daddy will hold it for you, feeding you as he tells you sweet nothings

He won't tell you it, but having you look up at him with those big, round, glassy eyes filled with love whilst you sweetly take the nipple of the bottle he's holding for you, between your pink lips, is perhaps one of the most perfect sights he's ever seen

And he's seen a lot of sights

"Such a pretty girl, my pretty little sleepy girl." Elvis coos softly, as your eyelids begin to grow heavy and close, your eyelashes fluttering

That's when Elvis knows you've had enough milk, when your trying too hard to even keep your eyes open, even if it's cute to watch you try

Elvis will then rock you gently in his arms and you can't help but nuzzle into his hold, never wanting to leave his warmth

But you both know that he'll have to put you down in your cozy, plush bed eventually

And when that happens, you're out like a light

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