time spent in the shower

some less discussed hdm moments/elements/plots i’m super pumped to see in the tv show:

  • lyra being a little shit in jordan - lyra getting drunk off her ass, lyra being a little shit to the scholars, lyra fucking around in the catacombs only to have headless ghosts haunt her at night. give me my little shit of a child lyra
  • will parry and his cat moxie straight up killing a man
  • marisa coulter letting lord boreal believe she’s charmed by him and totally into him, then straight up poisoning him and leaving him in a tent to die when he stops being useful to her
  • marisa coulter leading an army of spectres?? marisa coulter being terrifying as fuck????
  • but then: marisa coulter in the cave with lyra; marisa, despite all of asriel’s caution, charming him and deceiving him and then escaping asriel’s captivity to spy for him
  • everything that marisa does between escaping asriel and then him saving her from the exploding power station tbh
  • then marisa lying with all her being to motherfucking right hand of god, ruler of heaven metatron??? marisa playing him???
  • people talk a lot about marisa in the golden compass but seriously. marisa in the amber spyglass. she’s terrifying and spectacular and i love her
  • anyway
  • mary motherfucking malone
  • mary being dragged into this weird world of parallel universes and angels and shit and being all “fuck it, i’m too tired to try and doubt this shit, i’ll just go with it”
  • cynic mary having this childlike excitement and wonder for all the things she encounters, yet still being scientific and analytical about it
  • mary and the mulefa. mary and atal
  • the mulefa!!!!! give me my alien elephants on wheels children who are so pure and good!!!!!! the real angels of this story tbh
  • okay now this is really niche but: ama, the himalayan girl who helped will wake up lyra in the cave? she’s pure and fierce and brave, i love that little girl
  • gallivespians. all gallivespians. then also tialys and salamakia in particular. hand-sized people who ride giant dragonflies and can kill you with a stab of their ankle spurs and take no shit from no one. how fucking metal is that
  • the knife breaking, the reforging of the knife, that’s some good intense shit
  • the world of the dead. will and lyra in the world of the dead. it’s gonna be fucked up. just fuck me up i’m ready
  • i’m gonna stop but this is still just a partial list really
  • no but listen???
  • this whole trilogy, this whole (multi) universe, it’s so fucking reach and beautiful and detailed and poetic and overwhelming and flowing with iconic moments and things that i love so dearly
  • fuck the daemons hype i’m dying to see all the other details, literally everything else
  • and with the team being so keen to stick to the source material?? i’m gonna die and i’m gonna love it
Daddy’s Shirt [Shin Wonho]

Warnings- Mature content

                ~slight daddy kink

                ~teasing beyond repair

word count~ 1427

“Daddy missed his baby girl,” Wonho wet his lips when he saw you standing over the kitchen sink. He had been thinking about you the entire day, the stylists even had to change his outfit for his performance because he had a bulge all day. He couldn’t stop thinking about how you had screamed his name last night, the way your ass fit perfectly into his hands, the way you got so wet from him just kissing you.

You had jumped in surprise, you hadn’t heard the door open, and you certainly didn’t expect Wonho to be back so early. He was supposed to be on After School Club right now. You really weren’t ready for him to be home. Your hair was still wet from the shower, where you had spent ample time missing Wonho. You were scantily clad in a shirt of his, something that just barely covered your ass, leaving your ass cheeks to sensually tease him. “You’re home early,” you turned to let him see your front side. You hadn’t buttoned up the shirt at all- let alone for one button in the middle.

“Mhm, I see you’re wearing my shirt baby girl,” he bit his lip for a moment before continuing, “did you miss me?”

Keep reading

What people don't tell you about being a parent

In the beginning it’s waking every hour of the night to feed them, it’s lack of sleep and drifting in a sleepless/happy daze. The days blend together as you try to focus on adapting to the new life. Then it’s dressing them up and taking them out - you’re so over protective, even loud sounds set you off. You find yourself glaring at loud trucks and motorbikes while muttering angrily. Your baby wearing cute clothes is more important then getting yourself ready.

It’s their first bath, the stress of whether the water is too hot or too cold. Their every sound makes you panic. It’s pulling them out and wrapping them up snuggly in a fuzzy towel. It’s holding them close to your chest, you hand cradling their head. As soon as you get used to a routine, they grow and change again; with every new month comes a new challenge.

It’s showering with your little one in a chair babbling to themselves on the other side of the curtain. Peeking out every two seconds has become a habit. You get used to showering quickly because you’re never sure know how long the peace will last. 

And then comes their next milestone; a heartwarming smile and their first laugh, it makes your heart ache with happiness. It’s taking them for a walk and watching their eyes widen with the excitement around them, the trees loom overhead, the bright blue sky in the backround. They stare at them for a moment and then go back to examining their own fingers. It’s reading to them and having them babble along. Their first crawl stuns you as you watch breathless, filming it and encouraging them. First words catch you off guard because you’re never expecting them, your constant talking to them has finally paid off.

Their first steps - you watch cautiously with your arms open ready to catch them at any moment. Then it’s kissing little fingers, toes, knees and elbows better when they get hurt. It’s sleeping beside their crib holding their little hand because they’re scared. It’s colouring with them, watching them scribble and then observe your colouring only for them to get jealous and steal your crayon away.

It’s walking into their room in the morning, their bright smile and loud “Mum!” make you laugh in your groggy morning state. Making sure to encourage them is your number one priority, it’s squealing with excitement when they colour a full page in their colouring book, it’s telling them how smart they are when they point things out to you, it’s telling them how beautiful they are. Watching them learn and grow everyday gives you such joy. Eventually they grow even more. When you read them stories they yell out “Moon! Grass! Trees! Water! Puppy!” When you take them to the park they can play, when you go for a walk they’re silently observing, being sure to point out every puppy that crosses your path. It’s their laugh making you laugh. It’s watching their happiness expand yours as well.

It’s bath time, when splashing is a war you can never win, when they laugh at your reaction to them splashing around like a fish out of water. It’s pulling them out of the tub, wrapping them securely in a big towel, picking them up and hugging them to your chest for old times sake.

It’s holding them securely in your arms after their bath and right before bed, quiet time; cuddle time. Combing your fingers through their baby hair and planting kisses on their forehead. It’s telling them how much you love them but being careful not to kiss them too much because you don’t want them to squirm away.

Being a parent tests every aspect of your personality. What I can tell you though, is that I feel more like myself then I ever have. I have felt more love then I ever felt capable of and that feels pretty incredible.

-what I have learned so far, (0-2.5 years)

anonymous asked:

EE and RS prank Arme and later Arme prank them back?

He had woken up covered in glitter.  Even now, after two showers and a good amount of time spent in his Celestial form, Arme had a sneaking suspicion he still glittered.  Such a deed couldn’t go unpunished.

Which was why he was here, now, projecting little bits and pieces of glitter to cover every single thing in Elsword’s room.

He spared a glance over to Elsword’s bed, where the boy slept cuddled in his own counterpart’s arms.  Mochi, the celestial who had embraced humanity, the filthy traitor-

At least he still followed Ishmael, Arme reminded himself, and turned back to his task.  Nearly half the room was filled with glitter now and the glitter was rapidly rising.

He kept it away from Elsword’s head – he did have to breathe, after all – but, knowing Mochi didn’t actually need air, didn’t bother with that.  The glitter rose and covered them both as well as the furniture.  Ain let it rise a few more inches before he stopped the creation magic.

He smiled, staring at his handiwork, and ended Intervention.  Now the only thing left was to watch and laugh as his counterpart and Elsword realized just why they shouldn’t try to prank one of Ishmael’s own.

anonymous asked:

i thought of this hc in the shower : lafayette spent a long time trying to find the right hair products for him since his hair is so curly and thick and one day when herc slept over he used lafs stuff and laf almost has an aneurysm

“bbiiiTCCH WHAT TH E FUCK>? ?. hAT WAS $30 >F>>?????”

Headcanon: Upon returning to England the first time, the Pevensies adjusted to switching from royal life to normal life pretty well. Except in one area. Having to share one bathroom at home. In Narnia, they each had their own in their room. Losing that was tragic. Lucy complained that Peter spent way too much time in the shower. Susan swore Edmund had to use the bathroom at the exact moment she needed a shower to go out somewhere. Edmund hated that the girls spent way too much time in the bathroom getting ready for school. Peter always had to wait for Susan to finish her make up before he could use the bathroom. And all in all, there was a lot of shouting “MUM!”

Proud To Be Yours

“Let me show you how proud I am to be yours, leave this dress a mess on the floor and still look good for you…”

            ~ Selena Gomez

He had somewhat kept me in… captivity for something like two weeks. I could see for the way he watched me that he was waiting for me to snap and freak out at any second or to run away screaming to the police. He gave me my own time to adapt and I spent a ridiculous amount of it in the shower, feeling the hot water run down my body like the electric waves had before it.

It was all very vivid, not one of those memories you keep and remember every once in a while and try to connect the dots and fill in the blank spaces to relive it in your head, no… it seemed more like a goddam live show now, voices everywhere, playing their parts, making me /feel/ it instead of just remembering it. And I felt it all, from the big things – like my trapped arms and legs, the hard table against my back, the taste of the leather of his belt inside my mouth, against my tongue – to the little ones – the way my glasses were falling from my nose, how tight that skirt felt, the way it was slightly pulled up to reveal my thighs.

And then the shocks. Electricity running all over my body, creating gooseflesh, making me squirm against that table and scream against the object that was choking me. He made a pause, somewhere in the middle of the electroshock therapy, while I could still have my eyes open. I believed that it was due to something between wanting to check out if I was still alive and wanting to give me the hope that it was already over. I wasn’t dumb enough to believe it… I knew it had barely started yet. He touched me in the meanwhile, hands running down my cheeks, one to rest on my shoulder, another on my neck. He didn’t squeeze it with enough strength to make me panic but it was enough to make me struggle for air against his belt. I kept screaming. Not because I wanted him to quit touching me but because I knew that if I didn’t, he would drop his hands and the game would end and he would stop feeling my skin. And I needed that touch to bear with the shocks I knew were still to come. And so I screamed, I screamed until I felt like the walls of my throat were reduced to blood and I just couldn’t produce another sound but some confusing moans that were a mix of entreaties and his name. That was the moment the voices appeared. Whispering, hiding, multiplying at every electric discharge. Then the chemicals came along after swearing to an oath I didn’t fully understand but that I craved. My veins were burning, itching, begging for release. It came, once again, in the form of his hands. Pulling me out, bringing me closer. And then his lips… those lips that filled my imagination for ages in that room of the asylum…  He didn’t settle my fire, didn’t put an end to pain. He added gasoline to flames that were already out of control and I collapsed in his arms out of pain and exhaustion.

After that the voices were never quiet again which lead me to make a scene the previous night, my own pity party. I had knocked my head on the wall so many times when he grabbed me from behind I was starting to think I was gonna make a bruise. And still, they didn’t stop. That was the first time I allowed myself to cry in front of him, ever since the electroshock therapy. I could barely make sense of my own words – or his, to be honest – as I mumbled and cried out how loud they were. I begged him to make them go away. He only replied “But then you would miss their little talks” and even though I believed him I didn’t miss them at all when he took me to bed and made me forget about them and their murmurs and even my freaking name… he had a way of doing that, making every single thing on my mind slip to second place when his hands reached for my body. Nothing mattered more than him…

The next night he took me out. It was going be his first appearance in Gotham City ever since the news of the breakout had spread. It was going to be my first ever appearance too so I made sure I looked more than gorgeous. I was having a little trouble finding a way to deal with my recently acquired hair color… or… colors… but that night it fell in perfect waves down my shoulders and into my deep cleavage making a mess of pale blonde, red and blue that seemed just right as I walked inside the club with my arm linked in his.

“Wow!” I couldn’t help myself, widened eyes as I scan the place. It was huge, filled with lights and people dancing and loud music! It smelled like alcohol, sugar, expensive perfume, gun powder and cigarette smoke. It was like the best things in the world had collided and created that place on top of sins and secrets “Ya own this!?”

He burst of laughter at my reaction, sliding his arm around my waistline and taking us to his usual place. Everyone stopped to greet him as he walked by, big smiles and respectful nods, loud “Great to have ya back, J!” and offers of free drinks for the biggest boss in the house. I couldn’t stop noticing they saw me as well, eyes wandering around my body in curiosity, studying my face and giving up quickly to let their eyes fall to my cleavage. I liked it. The attention. I didn’t appreciate it in a long time and now that it was back – for all the wrong reasons – I loved it.

He drowned on the couch with a big grin and I fell next to him with a giggle. It didn’t take one second for someone to come inside carrying a glass of bourbon and a ridiculous amount of different drinks with small colorful umbrellas. I chose a pink one, thanking the bartender with a smile. People came in and out for at least an hour, sitting down and talking to him about business and what had happened while he was away. I stopped listening five seconds after that. My eyes were glued to the dancers in the dark, putting up a show on top of purple stage or inside glass contents. I only looked away when I felt his metal teeth biting my earlobe.

“Enjoying the show?”

I look around the room before turning my eyes to him. There were at least five men there, talking loudly about things I didn’t understand, sipping drinks I had never tried.

“I could do that.” I say in a determinate tone and I saw the way his grin went from seductive to playful “I’m serious!” I turn my eyes to the dancers again “I could /so/ do that.”

He laughed, stopping the conversations and bringing the attention to us “No, you couldn’t.”

My chin drops in an overdramatic reaction “Of course I could!”

“Fine.” He made a large gesture with his hand, raising his eyebrows in a daring way “Prove it.”

“Fine!” I placed the glass on the table and stepped out of his small room, separated by the rest of the club for a bunch of colorful curtains. I walked in a determinate way, heels clicking on the floor and then I stopped for a moment, trying to choose a place to go. Making him a small show inside of one of those glass things eventually crossed my mind but I ended up deciding to walk towards the other stage, climbing up in a swiftly way and winking at the dancers that were in it already and their confused expressions.

I took a deep breath, body starting to move in the rhythm of the song, first slowly, then more wildly. It was like the loud music mixed itself up with the screams of the voices, like they were cheering my actions up. And it took control. I wrapped my fingers around the metal pole, taking all my good gymnastics’ days back, back when I was sixteen, wining gold at the national championship along with the title of Queen Of The Beam. I could do things in that piece of wood that nobody should be allowed to do. Now I was more than that. I was Queen Of Gotham City and I could sure as hell make things on a metal pole that nobody should be allowed to do. I grab it from a high place, jumping and twirling my legs around it before letting my body fall over and exchange the position. I felt my dress fall to rest above my hips and I didn’t care. It felt good… I felt… free. And I laughed and I danced and I did things I didn’t remember I could do but that my body seemed to have memorized. I was surrounded by people the moment I stepped out of the stage and I just kept on dancing, closed eyes, open lips, short dress. That was loud and dark and I felt just like I belonged there. I felt bodies pressed to mine, hands, running up and down me like I belonged to them, I could even hear some words being whispered in my ear but I couldn’t understand them and I didn’t care. It felt like my very own personalized version of paradise.

I only opened my eyes when I felt a grab on my hand, forcing me to go against someone’s body.

“Are you new here?” I look up to watch the man who was talking. He seemed like one of guys Mistah J could have business with, dressed in dark clothes and filled with jewelry. A Mafia boss, I was sure. And he was grabbing my arm…

“I… I’m a not dancer!” I screamed so he could listen.

“I thought so.” He leaned closer for me to hear his words better “Your dress costs more than what they make in a month. Who do you work for?”

“The Joker.” I say after a small hesitation.

He took a step back, eyes scanning my body from head to toe before his smile got wider “I can top that. Go ahead, make your offer. How much do you want!?”

I lifted an eyebrow in confusion “How much do I want for what!?”

“To be mine instead of his.” I stopped dancing, eyes locked upon his. What was that man saying!? Even the voices were quiet now, waiting for my reaction “C’mon, hotness, a young lady like you shouldn’t be trapped under the grip of that man. Look at you, dollface, all pretty and… fresh.” I hated the way he pronounced that word and I hated even more the way his hands cupped my cheeks while said it. I tried to get free but I couldn’t “He has a fucked up history with girls, baby. Ask around. He likes it hard. I’m sure you don’t want that little pretty face of yours marked by that asshole’s ring.”

“Is that how you conquer all your girls!?” I manage to say even though he had my face trapped in his paws.

“Oh, I’m not trying to conquer you, honey. I don’t have to conquer you, you I buy. How much?”

I wrapped my fingers around his wrists, sinking my long nails in his skin “Take your hands off me!”

“No? Okay. Guess I’ll just have to take you anyway, then.”

“She said…” the voice sounded loudly between the music and my eyes twitch to the side “…to take your hands off her.”

“J…” he started but he never managed to end.

“No? Okay.” The sound of a gun being shot, the man falling to his knees. My body was shaking, eyes widened at the figure on my feet with a bullet on his hand.

He growled, bending over himself before lifting his bleeding hands in a defensive way “I didn’t do anything, J. C’mon, man, the bitch was all over me!”

“Uh uh.” Mistah J shook his head, not like a normal person would but in that slow way he had, moving it like a snake before attacking “My bitch.”

“I didn’t know, man. I swear.” Liar! Liar, liar, liar! Every word that came out his mouth made me want to punch him with my heel, right on the eye!

“Ya see, /man/, I don’t like when people go around touching what’s mine. My city. My club. My toys. My rules.” He looked at me at last, throwing the gun without warning. I catch it with some trouble before feeling its weight on my hands. It was heavier than I imagined “My Harley.” The man on the floor was mumbling something. He had put aside the tough act to start to beg for his life but I couldn’t listen to him. My eyes were on my puddin’, listening to his words like a believer listens to a prayer “Go ahead, toots. Aim.” I took a deep breath, fixing the gun on my hands and stretching my arms, gun touching the forehead of the crying man.

“Mistah J, I have never…”

“Fire it up.”


“Now!” And I did. The sound was crazy loud and if there was anyone that wasn’t already watching the scene, we had most definitely called their attention with that shot. I took a step back due to the effort, managing to balance myself upon my heels. He got closer, hand resting on my waist and pulling me to him before taking the gun away from me and lifting it “Anyone else needs a warning shot!? Uh?” he pressed the trigger, firing a bullet to the ceiling and I crawled closer to him, shielding my body with his. Nobody even dared looking twice. It was like the music stopped for couple of minutes and now everything came back to being noisy. People just looked away and kept on dancing and drinking. Everything was the same except for that cadaver on the floor “Ya’re shaking like a poodle, doll. Get over yourself.” He slid his gun down his belt, hand pressing on my lower back and forcing me to move “Haven’t ya ever sucked the life out of someone, toots?”

“N-no.” I mumbled, staring at my hands. I was shaking madly. I had just held a gun in my hands and… /killed/ a man with it.

He laughed at my reaction, big green eyes rolling “Ya’re awfully mumbling tonight. Say something properly.”

“Thank you.” I complied, lifting my big eyes to him, innocent a stuffed animal “For helping me.”

“I’ll consider it my job until I trigger that pretty head of yours to strongly kick every man that touches you between his legs.”

I smiled, looking around as he suddenly stopped in the middle of the crowd instead of taking me back to his private room “And I wasn’t… all over him.” I added, still confused as he pulled me in front of him.

“I know. I was watching.” He reassured, with a nod, pressing my body against his. He was moving slowly and a wide grin spread on my lips when I finally understand he was dancing. With me! He stopped to dance with me! “But ya did put quite a show up there.” He spitted between metal teeth “Ya’re gonna have to spend hella time on your knees tonight if ya ever want to do that again…”

I bite my lower lip, resting my face on his chest to hide the way I was blushing “Did ya like that? Did I do well, Mistah J?” I made a small pause, offering him a daring look “D’ya like watching?”

I laughed, chuckles escaping from my red lips as he grabbed my cheeks with one of his hands, pressing them tighter “Are ya sweet talking me?”

I can’t contain my laughter at his punch line, I had heard it before and I knew what it brought: Pain. My giggles get louder, less controlled. Crazier. I could see the smile on his lips growing. The chuckles rapidly become heavy breaths as I feel his free hand moving up my inner thigh, under my dress. I press my legs together in an instinctive movement but it only made him force his way through… I feel his fingers against my underwear and I widened my eyes “Puddin’… we’re in public…”

“Does that bother ya, Harley?” he let go of my face to use his hand to bring me closer to him “Because I’m gonna have to ignore it if it does… ya’re gettin’… way too much attention… I want everyone to know who you belong to.”

“Aah…” a soft moan escaped from my lips and I squirmed against his hand, trying to remain straight as I felt him pushing his finger a little further “People are watchin’…”

“Let them. If they look real close they might just learn somethin’…” he clenched his jaw, shaking his head twice before allowing himself to look at me again “Gosh, you’re gorgeous. I have to ruin that pretty face of yours before I bring you here next time…” my smile only got wider. He leaned over to catch my lower lip between his metal teeth, biting it until it started to bleed. It didn’t hurt much but still I embraced it… It felt… good… “Lick it.” I obeyed, blue eyes on green ones “Good girl.”  He growled “Dammit. I want to scratch my name all over your body…”

“Then do it…” I whispered because I couldn’t talk any louder, not without screaming, not when he was touching me like that. I felt it, his nails sinking in my skin, slowly starting to scratch. I bent over him, lips brushing against his ear “I belong to you.”


I take a moment to get myself together “I belong to you.”


“And proud to be yours.”

It was his time to grin “Prove it.”

I licked my lips, moving my head so I could watch his face again, twisted smile mirroring his “Let’s put on a show, puddin’!”

tbh kyungsoo seems pretty confident that jongin is his. i mean, if you were jongin, would you leave someone with an ass like that

i know, i wouldn’t too.

pandolfo-malatesta  asked:

Steve and Darcy, distracting kiss

I need more writing practice, but I am impatient.


Steve was trying to concentrate on the report in front of him, he really was, as there was a deadline to meet, and he’d already spent an admittedly very necessary portion of that time in the shower.

In any case, seated on the edge of the bed with an Avengers issued tablet and clad only in a bath towel, he was trying his absolute hardest to finish up the post mission follow up, but Darcy was not making it easy for him. She’d started by simply massaging the tension out of his shoulders and he’d been able to keep typing just fine, until her fingers started to tantalizingly descend over his chest and he had to retype a few words. He really lost all focus when he felt her lips meet the skin at the base of his neck and trail sinfully up to his jaw only to press chastely at the corner of his mouth all the while her hands moved lower to grasp the tablet, not so inadvertently hitting the submit button in the process before tossing it aside along with the towel.

The next morning, he woke up to the comforting warmth and weight of Darcy sprawled across his body and a new text on his phone from Natasha that read, “what’s with all the typos?”

Separation Anxiety: An Ichabbie Drabble

He goes to bed very, very late that night, having spent so much time fretting over Abbie: getting her to eat, to shower, checking her vital signs, asking every single question he can think of to determine her state of mind after 10 desolate months of isolation. Surprisingly, she never snapped at him once during his fussy hovering, and it’s both sweet and a little disturbing to him.

He lays in bed, staring at the ceiling, repeating to himself only two words: she’s home.

He finally shuts his eyes sometime around midnight. Sleep won’t come. He’s not surprised, not after the ordeal of being trapped in another world, possibly for all eternity. What little sleep will come later he expects to be dripping with nightmares.

He hears a knock at his door.

Crane sits up immediately.

He licks his lips and listens hard. Had he imagined it? After all, it was so soft. Did a draft go through the house? Is it an after-effect of astral projection to hear creaks and sighs that aren’t there?

He strains to hear. Nothing.

He starts to lay down again, but then he hears the definite creak of footsteps.

Crane springs out of bed and opens the door.

Abbie stands in the hallway, her back to him, about four steps away from standing in front of his door. She has a pillow clutched in her fist and she’s in her pajamas: an oversized t-shirt–one of his, in fact, something he only wore in the privacy of his room or the lavatory–and boy shorts. She freezes after hearing his door open.

“Leftenant?” he asks. “Do you have need of me?”

Abbie turns slowly, clearing her throat, her voice soft. “No, uh, it’s alright. Go back to bed.”

“Leftenant,” he sighs. “You would not have summoned me for nothing. What troubles you?”

She brings the pillow up to her chest, hugging it slightly. “I, uh…can’t sleep.”

“Me neither,” he admits. “I am not surprised after what we’ve endured. Especially you. Perhaps some chamomile tea? Valerian root?”

“It’s not a chemical thing,” she says, and still in that low, hesitant tone. “I was alone for 10 months, Crane. And now that I lay down…I still feel like I’m…there…and I thought about–”

“Sleeping with me?” he offers. He jumps a bit and then stammers, “Sharing a bed. Physically. Nothing more.”

She winces, but nods all the same. He steps closer and she tenses, as if her instincts are telling her to run. They probably are. She’s so strong. “Leftenant…Abbie…there is no shame in finding comfort with someone who cares for you. Even if it’s just for one night. It is no imposition to me if you wish to share my bed.”

He offers her his hand. She stares at it for a long, painful moment and then takes it. He wraps his long fingers around her small ones and leads her back into his room. 

He shuts the door behind them. Abbie crawls onto his mattress, looking small and unsure at first, and then huddles beneath the covers, wrapping her arms around her pillow. He climbs in beside her and lies down as well, his back to her. 

Silence falls. 

He feels the mattress shift. Then slight pressure along his ribs. Her hand. She’d reached out and touched him, as if to confirm he was there. His heart shatters in that instant. He decides to forgo his manners and strict etiquette upbringing. She needs to heal. She needs to feel safe. And so does he.

Crane rolls over and slides an arm around her waist. His touch makes the remaining tension in her legs and back slip away. The frown between her brows smooths out. He inches closer, until his chin rests on the crown of her soft, curly hair. She breaths out a shaky sigh and her fingers curl in the front of his shirt. He feels wetness along his neck and collarbone. He holds her and murmurs, “You are home, Abbie. Be at peace and rest.”

She falls asleep in his arms only minutes later.



It doesn’t hit him until hours later. 

When the adrenaline and the near brush of grief are gone, when he’s spent as much time trembling beneath the shower as he’s allowed, and made sure Cas is sleeping, even though he doesn’t need it. 

Sam takes one look at him and knows

(Dean owes him one. He owes him about a million, but that’s not what he’s thinking about right now.)

He doesn’t call. Because phone calls can be ignored. They can be avoided. He doesn’t think about the fact that he’s got all the supplies he needs to summon him already in his bedroom. 

“I know what you did.” His hands are still shaking. Bad enough that he’s not sure he’s capable enough to pour himself a drink. 

When I was young, it was pretty hard to convince me to get out of a hot shower. So my parents told me there was a “shower demon” who would catch you and pull you down the drain if you spent too much time in the shower. 

It wasn’t until I was living in my own apartment for the first time that I met the shower demon. He crept up behind me, translucent soapy fingers caressing my shoulders. His hot breath tickled the back of my neck, and he whispered in my ear words that still cause me to shudder. 

“Think of the gas bill.”



The first date was always the most awkward. First impressions are everything. That’s why you decided to look the best you could. New clothes, spent a lot of time on your hair, took an extra long shower. You hoped you weren’t going overboard, but after so long dancing around Balthazar about your feelings, you were finally getting a date with him. And he was a freakin’ angel; you had to get your game on.

When the angel came around to get you, the breath simply left his lungs. Balthazar’s first thought was stunning. He had simply thrown a suit on, but you looked perfect. “Y/N…” was all he can muster.

You shrugged shyly, looking down at your outfit. “Yeah, I tried my best to look nice. First date and all…”

“No, Y/N,” Balthazar responded, “you look amazing. Perfect.” He smiled.

Heat instantly flushed your cheeks, making you awkwardly blush. “Well, I wouldn’t know about perfect.” You muttered, breaking the angel’s gaze and looking down.

Balthazar reached forward and took your hand, bringing it up to his lips and chastely kissing your knuckles. “As perfect as any angel.” He promised. “Are you ready to go?”

ii – “I’m pregnant.” (27)

you can read part i here or just start from this one - they can be read alone or as part of a five chaptered fic :) send me any other numbers from here

“Come on, huckleberry! We’ll be late if you don’t hurry your ass out of the bathroom!”

“I wouldn’t still be in there if you’d spent a little less time in the shower,” Lucas retorted as he came out, drying his hands on a towel.

“My hair takes about a year to wash. What’s your excuse?” Maya raised her eyebrow daringly.

“Cleaning all of your hair out of the drain,” he feign sighed. “Hey!” He grabbed her small wrist before it could hit him on the shoulder, quickly pulling her in towards him.

“Let go,” Maya giggled, tugging her arm away. “Huckleberry!”

“Not until I get a kiss,” Lucas answered with a smirk.

Maya rolled her eyes and stood on tiptoes to give him a peck on the cheek.

“And what was that?” Lucas demanded. “Am I your mother?”

“Firstly, if you want me to kiss you properly I wouldn’t compare you to my mother, and second, my mother wouldn’t be late to such an important event.” Maya laughed.

“Important?” Lucas scoffed. “We eat dinner with Riley and Farkle every week!”

“And it’s very important to Riley that we do that.” Maya told him, glancing at the clock. “Come on, let’s go!”


Thankfully, Lucas hadn’t made them too late, and Riley was all smiles as she welcomed them into her and Farkle’s fancy apartment.

“Come in! You know where to put your coats and shoes, oh I love your dress Maya!” Riley seemed excited about something, although knowing her it was just the chocolate cake they’d be having later – Farkle’s speciality.

“Hey, Riles,” Maya smiled, feeling Lucas’s hand on the small of her back directing her in.

“Always the gentleman,” she teased as he took her coat, winking back.

“Maya!” Farkle beamed from the kitchen.

“Farkle! Love the apron,” Maya laughed. He wore a ‘kiss the cook’ apron – pink, seeing as it was actually Riley’s. As much as she loved Riley, the girl wore too much pink. It got better as she got older, but Maya dreaded to think what she’d be like with a daughter. That much pink would be sickening.

“You okay, Maya?” Lucas appeared at her side, frowning as he glanced at the girl – who had gone slightly green.

“Fine,” she pushed away the sick feeling and took Lucas’s offered hand, making their way to the couch where Zay already sat.

“Hey, Zay. Where’s Izzy?” Maya asked.

“Gone to find Farkle’s secret library,” Zay answered, with a fond eye-roll. Only Farkle would live in an apartment (a penthouse suite, but an apartment nonetheless) with a library, and only Isadora Smackle would look for it during one of Riley’s Important Friday Dinners. Farkle swore she would never find it, and Smackle was never one to back down from a challenge.

“How are things with you two?” Lucas asked Zay, and Maya sat listening to two of her favourite guys converse. She snuggled into Lucas, inhaling his familiar hay-and-cologne musk, almost drifting off to sleep. He shifted slightly so she was more comfortable, his hand drumming her arm gently.

After what felt like hours but was probably minutes, Riley’s voice was heard calling them all into the dining room.

“Come on, Maya,” Lucas’ hand rubbed her back, trying to wake her up.

“Mmmm,” was her only reply, eyes still closed.

“Maya, it’s dinner time.”

On the other side of the room, Zay was using a walkie talkie – yes, a walkie talkie – to try ad convince Smackle to come eat dinner too.

“But Izzy, you can find the room another time!”

“After dinner?” She sounded hopeful.

“After dinner we need to socialise,” Zay sighed.

“But I’m so close to finding it! Zay, I swear he moves it every time I get close, and I’m so close right now that I can’t leave it.” She said sadly.

“Izzy, we have chocolate cake for dessert.”

There was a pause. “Direct me to the dining room then, please.”

Zay laughed, giving her the directions, before glancing over to Lucas and Maya. “Why did we pick the two girls that kept us waiting before we eat?”

Lucas snorted. “I have no idea. Should’ve chosen Riley while I had the chance.”

“Luckily I snagged her before you two could,” Farkle smirked from the doorway. “Now come on, my beautiful fiancé has made dinner and you shouldn’t keep her waiting. Also, I’m starving.” He turned and walked back through the kitchen to the dining room.

“I’m sorry, Maya,” Lucas sighed. She opened one eye.

“For what?”

Without answering, he grabbed her arm and side and hoisted her up, before carrying bridal-style to the door. Zay followed the two lovebirds with a smile, and the three of them made their way to the dining room, following the smell of food.


Maya stabbed her fork into the potato, watching it crumple while the gravy flowed down it like an erupting volcano.

“Aren’t you hungry, Maya?” Riley asked, worried.

“Sorry, I just had a big lunch,” Maya smiled apologetically. “At least, my stomach seems to think so.” It was true, she’d noticed in the shower earlier that she seemed to be gaining a little weight – nothing some exercise wouldn’t fix, though.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Lucas’s hand, squeezing her knee reassuringly. Irritated, she pushed his hand away, causing him to frown.

“Maya?” He asked questioningly.

“I’m fine.” She answered coldly.

He seemed taken aback, but didn’t ask her any further questions –who did he think he was, a detective? – instead spearing his fork into his own potato harshly.

Maya went back to staring at her plate of food miserably, only looking up when someone kicked her under the table. God, who the fuck would-

Riley frowned at her worriedly, raising her eyebrows to ask if she was okay. Maya felt tears pricking at her eyes at how sweet Riley was, having to blink them away.

“You okay, Maya?” Riley asked it out loud this time, and Maya sighed.

“Fine,” she sniffed.

“Is there anything else you want to eat?”

Maya thought about it. The thought of the chocolate cake was really appealing right now, but she could wait til everyone else had finished. “It’s okay, I’ll just have some dessert. I probably just have a stomach bug. Nothing chocolate can’t fix.”

“Is chocolate the best thing for a stomach bug?” Farkle frowned.

“Yes!” Maya glared at him sharply. “Chocolate makes everything better!”

There was an awkward silence, before Zay cleared his throat. “Well, I can’t argue with that.”

Farkle looked hurt, and Maya felt bad. She had no idea where that sudden anger had come from, so she looked at Farkle apologetically. He smiled back, before grabbing his and her plate and taking it into the kitchen. Riley followed him with the rest of the plates, and when they re-entered a few moments later, he was carrying the chocolate cake.

God, it looked good.

Two layers of mouthwatering chocolatey goodness, coated in sweet melted chocolate and icing and tiny flower decorations – made of chocolate, of course. Farkle called it his ‘gooey triple chocolate mountain’. The rest of them called it heaven.

Maya couldn’t barely wait, foot tapping on the floor impatiently as Farkle sliced the cake, putting a piece on each of the six plates, while Riley added a fork and passed the plates round. Finally, everyone had a piece, and they could dig in.

Maya picked up the fork, sliding it into the cake and breaking away a massive chunk. She lifted it up and put the whole lot in her mouth, eyes fluttering closed in content.


Her eyes popped open, and her fork clattered down to the plate. Everyone looked up from their plates of hell, frowning as Maya threw a hand over her mouth and jumped up.

“Maya?” Riley stood up with a scared glance at the girl, but Maya was already on her way to the bathroom. Leaning over the toilet, she heaved over and over again. Someone was pulling her hair back from her eyes, rubbing her back comfortingly as she kneeled by the toilet, crying and vomiting all at once. Finally, she stopped.

“Oh, peaches,” Riley sighed. “This must be some bug if it makes you do that after Farkle’s chocolate cake.”

Maya sniffed, snot and tears everywhere as they sat on the bathroom floor. Riley passed her a tissue, and she cleaned up her face as best she could.

“Did you-“ Maya indicated the door, and Riley nodded.

“It’s locked. No one can come in. Now, are you going to tell me what this is all about, or is it just the bug?”

“I don’t know,” Maya sighed, resting her head on Riley’s shoulder. Riley wrapped an arm around her and squeezed her reassuringly.

“Well, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know, I just felt sick suddenly.” Maya answered sadly.

“Was this anything to do with you getting annoyed at Lucas and Farkle?”

“I don’t know what that was,” Maya replied in despair. “I was also really tired earlier, though.”

“Hmmm.” Riley was stroking her arm reassuringly, but suddenly froze.

“Riles?” Maya lifted her head up to see her friend frowning, trying to figure something out.

“When was your last period, Maya?” Riley asked, forehead creased as she thought about something.

“I don’t know, a month ago?” Maya answered with an odd glance. “In fact, I was supposed to get it-“ she stopped suddenly.


“Two weeks ago.” Maya’s forehead was creased now too. “I’ve just been so busy that I forgot to check. You don’t think…” she trailed off.

The girls sat in silence for a moment, neither wanting to be the one to say it.

“Am I… Could I be…” Maya whispered, more to herself than anything else.

“Take a test,” Riley suggested.

“Have you got any?” Maya asked, taking Riley’s blush as a yes.

“Farkle and I were trying,” Riley looked down, face heating up.

“Riley?! Why didn’t you tell me?!” Maya squealed, grabbing her friend in a hug.

“I was going to tell you today!” Riley answered with a small smile. “But apparently I might not be the only one. Hadn’t you better get that checked out?”

“Oh, right.” Maya stopped, remembering the current situation.

Riley opened the cupboard doors to pass her a test, before making her way to the door and unlocking it. She turned back to Maya. “Good luck.”

Maya nodded, unable to speak. Riley shut the door behind her, and Maya knew she didn’t have to go unlock it – Riley would be standing there, guarding the door, desperate to know the results.

She quickly pulled out the test from its box and followed the instructions, the third one being ‘wait two minutes’.

Great. Two minutes for her mind to go crazy.

She couldn’t be a mother! She was only twenty two! She and Lucas weren’t even married, or even engaged! What would her mom think? What would Shawn think? What would Lucas think?!

Oh, god. Lucas. She hadn’t even thought of him. It was his child too, after all. Would he want her to keep it? Did she want to keep it? What if they wanted different things? Would he leave her? They’d been dating since their senior year of high school, somehow managing to survive long distances while at uni, but would they survive this?

Maya glanced at the clock. Thirty seconds left. The last thirty seconds of her life where she wouldn’t be a mom.

There was a knock at the door. “Maya?”

“Come in,” she called, and the door opened.

“Well?” Riley peeked her head around the door.

Bracing herself, Maya took a deep breath before plucking up the courage to look down at the test in her hands.

“It’s positive.”

“What?” Riley looked shocked, just as Maya felt.

“I’m pregnant.”