“Night gathers, and now my watch begins. It shall not end until my death. I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children. I shall wear no crowns and win no glory. I shall live and die at my post. I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers, the shield that guards the realms of men. I pledge my life and honor to the Night’s Watch, for this night and all the nights to come.”
Night gathers, and now my watch begins. It shall not end until my death. I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children. I shall wear no crowns and win no glory. I shall live and die at my post. I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers, the shield that guards the realms of men. I pledge my life and honor to the Night’s Watch, for this night and all the nights to come.
Night gathers, and now my watch begins. It shall not end until my death. I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children. I shall wear no crowns and win no glory. I shall live and die at my post. I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers, the shield that guards the realms of men. I pledge my life and honour to the Night’s Watch, for this night and all the nights to come.
- They will always prefer smaller beds, even when they’re older, because they got so used to sharing a single twin in the early days of Atem’s corporealness, and anything bigger than a double is just a pointless waste of space.
- They eventually settle on a mutual rule that the games, portable devices, controllers, and cards are put away by midnight/never brought into bed. Far too many all nighters playing together resulted.
- If one is sleepy before the other is ready for bed, the awake one tends to stay at the desk, where the sleepy one can see them as they nod off. And Atem is a wizard at sneaking into bed second, but Yuugi inevitably always wakes the light sleeper up- Which is a little distressing for Yuugi, but Atem is never irked and always welcomes him.
- Atem, it turns out, talks in his sleep. Yuugi quickly learns to stay still a moment if he’s roused by cuddles and mumbles- See if anything coherent or clearly intentional follows. 90% of the time he just needs to readjust his grip on Atem and rub his arm or brush his hair back until he goes still again.
- On the other hand, Atem also tends towards bad insomnia. Originally he tended to sit up at the desk, as he did as a spirit, but Yuugi inevitably insists on joining him if he catches him at it, and rather than see his partner fall asleep sitting up, Atem shifts to staring out of the skylight from bed… And this usually leads to him nodding back off, thanks to Yuugi’s warmth at his back.
- They’re apart at times, with Atem competing and Yuugi staying behind to help in the shop and focus on first his programming studies and later his game designs. But they make a point to keep in regular contact, and always talk before bed. They again have to set a limit on how late/long the calls can go, but they still make a habit of calling right before bed, so the last thing they do in their day is say good night before hanging up and going to sleep.
- Alas, Atem’s insomnia still tends to strike him worst when he’s alone, so he’s always dead on his feet by the end of some big tournament. Yuugi discovers that, when he inevitably comes to see the final matches, he should always come the night beforehand so as to help Atem rest. Even if it has to be a daytime flight, Yuugi strives to arrive with enough time for Atem to nap before the games. If Yuugi’s not tired, or too high-strung from the flight, he just sets the tv to some muted, subtitled thing he can watch while Atem snores into his neck.
Summary: You’re just up to get a snack until a distraught Sam runs into the kitchen. Who would have thought something like that would change your life?
Pairing/Characters: SamxReader, mentions of Dean
Warning: Some angst, some fluff, nothing too extreme.
Author’s Note: Love me some sweet Sam. Hope you people enjoy this thing that popped into my head at 2am.
Careful, so not to wake the other light sleepers in the bunker, you tiptoed down to the kitchen. Luckily, your fuzzy socks made the stealthy movements easier. The only trouble came from the floor creaking under your weight. A symphony of cracks would cry out randomly, during the only time you ever cared about the noise you made. Never had it sounded that loud during the day.
TALK WITH YOUR FINGERTIPS let us go, now, my darling companion (listen) (art credit)
something about us / daft punk, reverie / illenium, sick of losing soulmates / dodie, woman / angel olsen, begin again / purity ring, one bad night / hayley kiyoko, leave a trace / chvrches, winter / caroline, wake up, o sleeper / midst, distant sky / nick cave & the bad seeds
Ephesians 5:8-14 (NIV) For you were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Live as children of light (for the fruit of the light consists in all goodness, righteousness and truth) and find out what pleases the Lord. Have nothing to do with the fruitless deeds of darkness, but rather expose them. It is shameful even to mention what the disobedient do in secret. But everything exposed by the light becomes visible—and everything that is illuminated becomes a light. This is why it is said:
“Wake up, sleeper, rise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you.”
Thank you for the tumblr comments on Part 1! Here’s part 2! Once again, this is all purely fiction.
“Senator? Are you ready?” The knock and voice came from the other side of the door without waking the two sleeping occupants.
With no answer, the two aides contemplated their next step.
The other side tried again. “Ms. Clinton?” She knocked harder.
That was enough to wake the lighter sleeper from their slumber and rattle off a, “Who’s there?”
The aides’ eyebrows shot up and their jaws dropped. The voice was nothing like their Senator, definitely male, and coming from her bedroom. “Senator Clinton?”
They heard the sheets of the bed shuffle and a mumbling voice trying its best to be quite. Another sound drifted to their ears, a female groggy moan, followed quickly by a vocal response.
“I’ll be ready in a moment, Laura.” The frazzled voice came closer to the door. “Are they here already?”
“Yes Senator,” she answered, glad to hear her voice. “They’ve been here about half an hour. Everything’s ready, they’re waiting on you.”
“Shit,” she swore under her breath. “Stall, will you? I overslept.”
Inside the room, she ran from her dresser to her closet picking out a suitable outfit for the day and spoke with her aides through the closed door. As she hustled to the bathroom, she caught her toe on the corner. “Aahhh! Damn it!” she exclaimed rather loudly.
“Good God, are you alright?” Bill tried to whisper as he pulled out a pair of pants and tried to dress as quickly as her.
“Is everything alright Senator?” The voice from the other side asked. “Do you need help?”
“NO!” She yelled back. “No, thank you,” she repeated much calmer. “I just stubbed my toe. Stall, please. I’ll be right out.”
The footsteps outside the door eventually dissipated, leaving the couple to wonder just how much they knew.
“Shit! I have to be in New York in two hours.” He plowed through the closet looking for a clean shirt. “You gave Laura the house alarm code?” he questioned.
“Yes I did,” she mocked his annoyed voice. “It seemed quite convenient at the time.”
“Well how about now?” he said half dressed, looking flustered and quite the sight.
She pressed her lips together, not wanting to go into this now. “I’ll change the code after they leave. There, happy?” She shut the bathroom door.
They got ready in under 10 minutes which must have been a new record. After which, the only challenge remaining was getting him out, unseen.
“The interview is in the living room, so wait fifteen minutes until we get going then head down the back steps.” She looked him over and straightened his already straight tie. “Where’s secret service?”
“Around the corner waiting in their usual spot.” He kissed her forehead as a thank you. “Tonight? Chappaqua?”
She nodded. “I’ll probably beat you there! I’m done around 3:00 today.”
He smiled and kissed her lips quickly before shushing her toward the door.
She did a self check as she bolted down the stairs, composing herself as she walked into the room of reporters and cameras.
“Welcome Senator Clinton. Thank you so much for this interview.”
She shook hands with the crew. “Not at all. I’m glad to do it.”
They showed her to her seat and hooked her up with a mic.
Her aide caught her attention from across the room and wiped the side of her lips with a finger. Hillary did the same to her own mouth, knowing she had her husband’s parting kiss to blame.
“Is this anyone’s coat?” A crew member held up a man’s coat. “I found it on the banister.” No one claimed it. Then… the interview began.
“Mrs. Clinton, once again thank you for this interview. We have lots of budding questions on a variety of topics and we thank you for being so open to discuss with us.”
“Not at all.” She smiled back, bracing herself inside.
He started with a few softballs about her new office and how she was adjusting to the work, which she answered with enthusiasm and humor.
The interviewer looked down at his notes, then back at her. “Many people are wondering how you are adjusting to life on your own. You’ve lived with the former President for almost 25 years and to now be on your own must be quite the adjustment.”
"I am very happy with my life as it is right now. I’m rarely lonely. There are always close friends and family dropping in and I always find someone to talk to every night.”
She never lied, she just didn’t give them all the information.
“Are you and the former President on speaking terms?”
“Absolutely,” she answered firmly. “We speak quite often about many things.”
She was testing the waters. If the public would finally accept their honest devotion to each other and not question their political ambitions, they could stop all this sneaking around.
“Personal or work related?” He asked.
“It depends on the day and what is going on in our lives. We speak a lot about Chelsea and how she is doing in school, when she’s coming home…”
“But do you share your work with him?” he pressed. “I have to ask again because that was a major concern when you were running for office. The fact that, at the time, you were married to a former President. People wondered if you were working as his puppet and this was his way of keeping himself involved in the government. Now, with the separation, that calmed many’s nerves, but the question remains. The public wants to be reassured that the former President does not make the decisions for you as a Senator.”
She bit her lip and tried to not look appalled at the question. Even as a single woman, the press made a big deal about her relationship with her ‘estranged’ husband. Would they ever accept her as an intellect in her own right?
With her blood boiling, she gave her answer. “Jake, I find this line of questioning absurd and frankly insulting. I am not soliciting in the shadow of the former president. I don’t understand why the press constantly overlooks the fact that I have a law degree, I have been advocating and working for causes close to my heart in each capacity I’ve been in, and I have my own strong opinions and beliefs separate from my husband.”
The interviewer didn’t seem intimidated by her comeback. “You mean, ex-husband?” He asked. “Because I couldn’t help but notice you’re wearing an engagement ring.”
The only sign of her surprise was her lip between her teeth and her slight shuffle in her seat. She searched her mind for an appropriate answer.
Before she could come up with one, her aide’s phone rang. He stepped out into the hall to answer it, the very hall where she knew Bill would be descending any moment.
“John!” She yelled at him, standing to see better. “I want you here for the interview.”
He put up a finger, asking her to wait a moment.
“John!” She said in a firmer voice. ”I need a drink of water please.“
He moved his phone call into the kitchen to get her a drink.
Safe for the moment, she tried to wrap her mind around an excuse. "I apologize. Where were we?”
“The ring. You haven’t worn a ring in over two years and now you have one on. Who’s it from? What does this mean?”
The questions fired directly at her heart. One slip, that’s all it took. With all the hustle that morning, she forgot to take her ring off. He usually did that for her. They had been so careful for these two years and now one small slip may cost them their privacy. That privacy had gotten her through these past two years and she wasn’t willing to let the American public scrutinize her personal life again. She had to think of a way out of this mess.
“Jake I don’t think the public has any right into my private life. My relationship status does not affect my decisions in the Senate. It doesn’t matter if I’m married to a former president or,” she thought of a random title, “engaged to an investment banker. I’m still making the decisions I think are best for our country.”
Satisfied with her answer, she sat back and continues with the interview. She breathed a sigh of relief when she heard the back door click shut.
The next morning in Chappaqua New York, Bill rose early and quietly slipped out of the bed. His sated wife continued to sleep like a rock, as he expected her to do on her day off. He stretched his arms above his head as he made his way downstairs to the front door. The paper was waiting for him, like always. Making his way to the kitchen, he ripped the paper from the plastic and started the coffee brewing. He sat down at the table, reached for his glasses, and read the front page headlines. SENATOR CLINTON ENGAGED TO INVESTMENT BANKER.
⚔ I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers, the shield that guards the realms of men.