wrapped up in a carpet

so Kanye lost, Demi lost, Katy showed up to the red carpet wearing Reynolds wrap and a bathroom rug, and the show hasn’t even started yet …. this year’s Grammys is back with some Swift Karma™ y'all

  • Yang: *Enters living room with the carpet wrapped around her body*
  • Blake: *looks up then sets down the book she was reading*
  • Blake: Yang, what are you -
  • Yang: Pfft. Hey Blake? Don't you think I'm... RUGgedly handsome?
  • Blake: *slams face down and groans*
  • ~Miles Away
  • Weiss: puts down her latte and stares in the distance
  • Weiss: Ruby did you hear that?
  • Ruby: A loud disappointed groan?
  • Weiss: Yes?
  • Ruby: Yang made a shite pun again.

anonymous asked:

hey Raina.. ummm i assume you've seen The Last Seduction. i was wondering, would you write something about what would Castle do after read the message on her phone? uumm you know, almost everything he did were unbelieveable. but of course only if you have time or reading this. thankyou. :)

Her phone buzzes from the armchair not too far from his place on the floor, illuminating with a message that cuts through the satiated haze, piquing his curiosity. It’s probably the precinct, he assumes, and he doesn’t want her to miss something important, so he heaves himself across the carpet, wrapped up in the comforter that had come down with him when he had slid from the edge of the bed, resembling a caterpillar slinking across his bedroom floor.

Rick peers at the lit screen of her phone, his brow furrowing at the message from an unknown number, his stomach dropping at the words.

Urgent: You’ve been made. LokSat is coming for you. GET. OUT. NOW.

Panic spirals through his system, eradicating the lingering vestiges of pleasure she had infused into his bloodstream, and he grabs the phone from the chair, sits back on his knees.

“Kate,” he calls for her, unraveling the bedding from around his body, tripping in his haste to get to his feet. “Kate!”

His wife trots back into their room only halfway through the process of getting dressed, her sweater doing little to cover the length of her legs, barely brushing the tops of her thighs.

“Hey, what’s the matter?” she asks, concern knitting through her brow at the sight of him standing naked and anxious in front of her, her phone clutched in his hand.

“What does this mean?” he demands, holding the phone up to her as she approaches, watching her read the words on the screen, watching her face drain of all color, consumed by horror.

“I have to go,” she whispers, her fingers beginning to tremble, reaching thoughtlessly for her chest, fisting over her bullet scar out of a habit he’s witnessed for years. “They’re going to - shit, Castle, I’m sorry-”

“No,” he snaps, snagging her by the arm before she can sprint back into the adjoining bathroom. “Tell me what this means. What is LokSat? And why are they coming for you?”

“No, no, Rick, I can’t get you involved-”

“I’m your husband,” he growls, stepping in closer until he’s towering over her, holding her body against his as it begins to shake. “I’m already involved. Now tell me-”

“Fine, I’ll tell you everything, but I have to go,” she croaks, breaking free of his hold to stride into the closet. He follows after her, feels the panic thud harder through his chest at the sight of her searching through the small section of clothing she left behind, sliding into a pair of jeans. “LokSat is a person, Bracken’s partner, and they were behind everything that happened at the end of September, the reason my team from DC was massacred-”

“The reason you left me,” he states, doesn’t question, as it begins to make sense.

Kate goes still at his realization as it echoes through the space of their closet, her fingers pausing around the button of her jeans, and fury flushes through his chest, steals his mind from whatever terror this unseen threat has evoked.

“Why would you leave?” he growls through the grit of his teeth, storming towards her, trapping her at the end of the walk-in closet. “Why the hell would you shut me out? Lie to me? Keep secrets from me?”

“Because they could kill you!” she hisses, yanking another shirt from the hanger and folding it over her arm without tearing her eyes from the raging storm of his gaze. “I - I know I should have let it go, but I’m not… I just couldn’t, and I knew if I was going to go after this, that I would drag you into it too.”

“Does the word ‘partner’ mean anything to you? Did our vows mean anything to you?” he questions with barely contained anger, and it must spark something in her too, because she drops the clothing she had been gathering to give him her full attention.

“You mean everything to me, Castle,” she snaps, coiling her hands into fists at her sides. “That’s why I kept you out of it. Because all I wanted was to keep you safe, keep you alive-”

“And risk your own life instead?” he yells, doesn’t even attempt to swallow down his anger anymore. “What would have happened if that text would have come in when you were alone? You would have just left, disappeared without even telling me? What if you had died? I wouldn’t even – I would have no way-”

His grief swallows up everything, consumes all of the rage and heartache, leaves him empty and hollow and so intensely afraid of losing her. His own agony is almost enough to blind him from the sight of her falling to pieces in front of him, losing her grip on her composure and losing control of the tears slipping from the corners of her eyes, cascading down her cheeks.

“No,” she rasps, eliminating the space between them, lifting her arms to wrap around his neck and pressing the damp skin of her cheek to his and oh, he hadn’t even noticed that he’s crying too. “I’m sorry, Rick. I just thought… I thought I could do this on my own, I thought I could keep you safe, could – could ensure we got our happily ever after-”

“We’ll still have it,” he swears into her shoulder, gathering her up against his naked chest, feeling the shudders rippling through her body wrack through him as well, rattling his heart against the cage of his ribs. “It’s still there.”

“I ruined it,” she chokes out, her voice just a breath away from a sob, and he tries to hug her tighter, to eradicate the sorrow from her voice with the strength of his embrace. “And now they’re coming for me-”

“Us,” he corrects, her spine stiffening beneath the bands of his arms. “They come after you, they come after us both.”

“Castle, no-”

“If you think I’m letting you leave without me,” he starts, loosening his grip only enough to stare down at her, let her see the severity of his words. “You’re crazy.”

“Alexis,” she whispers, splaying her hands out over his chest, his heart. “Martha. You can’t leave them.”

“We aren’t leaving forever. Only long enough to fix this, to end it. To make it safe again, for both of us.” He’s breaking her; he can see her resolve disintegrating before his eyes, turning the dimmed flecks of gold determination in her irises to ash. “Whatever it takes, but we’re a team, Kate. And I love you. Don’t… don’t leave me again.”

He catches her tears this time when they fall, swiping them away with his thumbs as she rises on her toes to kiss him, to stain her sadness to his lips while she nods in acceptance.

“Okay,” she relents, the anguish in her eyes endless, but she forces the closest thing to a smile she can manage for him before the returning urgency crushes it all. “Then we have to pack a bag and get out of here before they find us.”


She had packed the majority of her clothing a couple of weeks ago, but left her less prominent wardrobe pieces in their closet, having every intention to return one day soon, and she’s grateful as she tosses a few blouses and jeans into the duffel they plan to share. Castle surprises her with his quiet efficiency, dressing quickly, grabbing a few days worth of clothing without much thought and gathering travel sized essentials he always keeps on hand from the bathroom, ready to go in less than ten minutes.

“Did you already have a place in mind?” he inquires while they stride out of the bedroom, flicking off the lights as they go, and Kate steals a glance over her shoulder at the darkened space that had radiated with the soft glow of lamplight and love only half an hour ago.

“No,” she murmurs, scraping a hand through her hair and following Rick into the kitchen. He goes straight for the pantry, tossing easy snacks - granola bars, fruit snacks, and even some of Alexis’s PopTarts - into the top of their travel bag. He really had learned a lot from zombie survival camp, hadn’t he? “I should have… I didn’t think it would come to this, that I’d have to run.”

“That’s okay,” he assures her, handing her a bottle of water from the fridge. “I already have a place we can go that’s secure.”

Kate stares back at him in surprise. “You have a safe house? Since when?”

“Well, honey, we have a safe house,” he winks, trying so hard to inject this situation with as much lightness as possible, to keep her from panicking. “And a bunker, just in case the apocalypse hits too-”

“Castle,” she prompts, hefting the bag up from the floor while he jogs back into his office, heading straight for the hidden safe in the wall.

“After everything that happened with Bracken last year, when we had to run for our lives then too, I thought it would be smart to have safe locations that we could go to if any of us were ever in danger. For situations like this,” he explains, entering the code, unlocking the box and withdrawing small booklets that resemble passports, stacks of cash that have her eyes bulging, and – and is that a gun? “I wanted to always be prepared.”

He cuts his eyes to her as he approaches, a narrowed look to accompany the proof he’s presented her with, how he could have handled this if she’d allowed him to be her partner on this.

“I’m sorry,” she breathes out, words she has a feeling will be leaving her lips quite often for the next few days, weeks, maybe even months. “I should have told you. I see that now.”

“I don’t want you to be sorry,” Castle sighs, tucking the money, identification, and firearm into a separate pocket of the duffel before straightening to meet her eyes, the hard indigo hues softening into a gentle cerulean that sets her heart at ease. “I just want you to trust me.”

“I do,” she insists, reaching for his face with her free hand, stroking the angle of his jaw. “I’ll do a better job of showing it in the future.”

Castle leans forward to seal a kiss to her forehead. “That’s all I ask,” he murmurs, his breath a warm comfort to her skin, his hand reaching up to tangle with hers a balm to the crack she’d instilled within her own heart. “Now I think it’s time to go.”

sunsetveiw  asked:

Heeyy♥️ 27 and Grayson🌚

Hi Kristen!

Here you go and I hope you like it! ♥️

*Requests are closed*

27. “That’s not yours.” (Grayson Dolan)

Laughing, you and Grayson entered your apartment, after a heavy and intensely sweaty session of skating. Ethan had dropped you two off, promising to pick up Gray after a few hours to head back to the Warehouse to finish filming and editing the upcoming video.

You and Gray almost always spent time at his seeing as it was more spacious but since your apartment was closer to the skate rink, Gray had opted to freshen up at yours.

Opening and closing a few cabinets, you pulled out twi glasses, pouring in water before plonking a few ice cubes for added measure while Grayson made himself comfortable on the couch. You carried the two glasses over to him, handing him one as you quickly downed your own, feeling the cold, slide down your throat. Turning on the air conditioning, you made yourself comfortable next to Gray while you both dried off the sweat before taking turns to hop in the shower.

Half an hour or so later, Gray stood up, taking off his tee and chucking it at your face before rushing into your bedroom, locking the door before behind him, just in case you decided to barge in. 

He could hear you screaming in disgust as he slipped off the rest of his clothes and entered the bathroom.

Shaking your head in disgust, you had just put his sweat laden tee into the laundry when you heard Gray yell, ‘Babe?’

You replied back, ‘What?’ but got no answer.

Shrugging your shoulders, you got around to starting the laundry, stripping yourself off the grimy clothes, finishing menial chores with a towel wrapped around yourself whiling away the time before Gray stepped out.

‘That’s not yours,’ Gray’s steely voice broke through the silence that had blanketed the environment.

Turning around in confusion, your eyes appraised the razor Gray was holding up, dripping on your carpet, his own towel wrapped loosely around the waist.

‘In fact, it’s not even a girl’s razor,’ Gray continued, his expression started to morph into one of agitation and anger.

‘So, whose is it?’ Gray asked, his voice dropping a notch as he stepped closer, shoving the razor in your face, jealousy and panic radiating through every pore in his body.

Arching an eyebrow almost cockily, you simply looked at him, intentionally toying with him, enjoying watching your boyfriend burn with unwarranted anger and jealousy.

‘Whose is it, cause its certainly not mine!’ Gray yelled, his eyes wide, chest heaving as adrenaline pulsed through his veins.

Pursing your lips, you plucked the razor out of his hand before replying, ‘It belongs to the same person whose shaving cream is kept next to the basin, the same person whose shoes you failed to notice next to the front door, the very same person, who’s come to visit his baby sister after almost 4 months of staying apart.’ 

As you spoke, your eyes took in the various expressions Gray’s face went through. Starting with pure range, to shock to disbelief to understanding, it ended with his lips parted in a small ‘o’, eyes wide with horror, cheeks a shade of bright red.

‘I’m - Oh - You - That -,’ he spluttered, embarrassment replacing his rage.

‘Just what I thought,’ you quipped, pushing past him and sauntering off to have your shower, enjoying leaving Gray behind to feel guilty and flustered, even though you weren’t the least bit offended.

Hey, a girl’s got to have her own fun when she wants, right?

Smirking to yourself, you got under the shower, savouring the possibilities on how Gray would trip over his feet in an attempt to make it up to you.

You knew you should feel horrible, but boy were you enjoying it all a bit too much.

Before You Said it Like That

A huge shout out to @zeppo-in-a-trenchcoat for the top left and middle right photos! Love you girl! All credits go to the artists.

A prequel I had floating around in my head to THIS piece I wrote about a month back. 

Word Count: 2416

Warnings: Mentions of divorce, drinking, mentions of sex (like nothing really)

A/N: For the sake of fanfiction, let’s pretend that all parties are single (even me! - don’t tell my husband)! And a huge thank you to @just-another-busy-fangirl for being the world’s most amazing beta and a super great friend! And to my little, @just-a-touch-of-sass-and-fandoms for being, well, just being her. 

I met Rob Benedict at a Supernatural Convention of all places. Now, I had been watching con videos and the show for a while now so I had seen him sing, but seeing him perform live hit me differently. The raw emotion that he channels when he performs made me feel things.

Keep reading

How to Sell a Haunted House

Emmett stood outside of the freshly painted house, keys in hand, waiting for his clients. His smile was sharklike. Not like a great white, but rather, a shark less menacing, but just as, if not moreso aggressive.

You had to be, when it came to selling houses to precious newlyweds, with their precious goldendoodles and their aspirations for raising tiny goblins in a good school district in a safe neighborhood.

Well, Emmett didn’t specialize in neighborhood houses.

A crow cawed down at him, and he glared up at, perched in the large tree in front yard. Soon after, he heard the foretelling thrums of tires rolling over the dirt driveway, kicking up rocks and snapping twigs.

He smiled even wider. It was a picturesque scene of a beautiful, secluded house in the middle of a forest not too far away from town.

“I didn’t realize we were in the boonies!” Mr. Benson called to him as he and his wife got out of their car.

Emmett shook his head. “It’s only twenty minutes to town!”

A lie, but most people speeded along these winding roads anyway.

Mrs. Benson looked up at the house. A fixer upper with potential. Every couple with HGTV fancied themselves a house flippers, nowadays. It made Emmet’s job easier.

“This house,” he announced as they crossed over the threshold, “was originally built in 1838. It was one of the two plantation houses in this county.”

Mr. Benson turned to him while his wife ran her hand over freshly applied wallpaper. “Slaveowners?”

“Not exactly. Quakers,” Emmett glanced around. “They had a community here, and this house is the last of them.”

“I didn’t know there were Quakers in South Carolina, Emmett,” Mrs. Bensen commented. “But, six bedrooms, four baths, right.”

“Everything that you wanted, Mrs. Bensen. The kitchen and bathrooms were updated last fall, ma’am,” Emmett told her. “Let’s go to the kitchen. You know, Betsy Clarence was telling me all about your award winning cobbler.”

She grinned at that, and they stepped into the kitchen. He showed her the stove, the fancy new appliances, everything, when Mr. Bensen went to the iron grate, slightly rusted and firmly set into the wall.

“What’s this?”

“Oh, it’s just part of the air conditioning, sir. There’s a finished basement, so a few grates had to be added around the house.” Emmett told him, standing beside it. “I think it’d be charming to put a little picture frame around it, or maybe paint it to match the walls.”

“It’s cute!” Mrs. Bensen decided. “It’ll be a great conversation piece.”

“The basement is just through that door under the stairs,” he told them. “I’ll be in right after you.”

They quickly flocked to the door, taking delight in the old locks and knobs.

From the grate, Emmet heard excited, hungry whispers. He shushed them, and followed the couple downstairs.

Mr. and Mrs. Bensen were quite disappointed.

“You said it was finished.”

He glanced to the exposed brick, and the dirtied cement floor. “Well,” he told them. “Finished in the sense that you could easily add drywall, or carpeted flooring. Even so, the storage possibilities are amazing. Especially with a growing family.”

“Where are all the grates?” Mrs. Bensen turned, inspecting the dark room, “All I see are high windows.”

“Dusty windows.”

Emmett made a good show of looking around for the grates. “I’m not sure. I do see some vents, up here.”

Normal house vents. Not ancient grates set firmly into walls with no way of closing them.

“There’s most likely a crawl space for the air ducts, between the first floor and the basement,” He told them, “Do you want to see the bedrooms, or we could check out the backyard?”  

The three of them made their way through the backyard, and Mrs. Bensen was falling in love with the old, faded white gazebo. Everything seemed to sparkle after it rained, and she found it all very romantic and dewy.

“So tell us about the previous owner.”

“A recluse novelist,” Emmett replied. “Passed away a year ago with no family to speak of, and the county has possession of the house.”

“That explains the price.”

“Luckily for you two,” he added. “And they’re not going to touch the forest around the property, which is all yours. Ten acres, which you could later sell off, if you’re inclined to.”

Mrs. Bensen grinned at her husband, ambitious as she was. “Let’s see the rest of it, George.”

They went inside, through the back screen door. Emmett felt the vines climbing over the gazebo grab hold of the hem of his slacks.

“Not now,” He whispered, before following the newlyweds inside. “We talked about this.”

“Look at this!” Mrs. Bensen pointed to the little door in one of the bedrooms. She bent down and opened it. “Oh, George! It leads to the other bedroom on the other side!”

“Why would a house have that?” He asked Emmett, looking faintly amused at his wife.

“Oh, chamber pots,” he improvised. “The children would share, so I’m told. The local historical society had a newsletter. Apparently houses all around the county had them.”

“It’s charming, our kids can have secrets and bond.” Mrs. Bensen looked at her husband, blinking her beautiful blue eyes at him.

“And the master bedroom?”

“Oh, the master is the pinnacle. There are two, after all.” Emmett told them with a casual smile. “One is at the top of the turret, and the other is on the opposite end.”

They climbed a nice set of spiral steps, which wrapped up around a ‘sitting area’ for the children. A little circular carpet with two nicely staged.

“I always wanted a bedroom with bay windows.” She told her husband, looking out of them as though she were a queen in a tower. “It’s everything.”

“How will our children get up these stairs, Alice? It’s dangerous.”

“Well, we could just take the master on the other side, and wait for them to get old enough that we could trust them up here.”

“It could be a reading nook until then,” Emmett suggested, looking at the empty wall. “Could you imagine bookshelves installed against the walls?” He held out his hands. “And a nice chandelier at the top? Or maybe a poker table in the center of the room and a bar against this wall?”

Mr. Bennett grinned. Every straight man desired a ‘man cave’. He was not unlike any other married man that Emmett showed a house too.

The floorboards creaked under them as they walked to the other side of the house. “This master is in the oldest part of the house. There were multiple constructions, when it comes to houses like these.”

They entered into the master bedroom, with faded cream-colored walls and hardwood. Mr. Bensen made a face at the antique carpet, a dark red and brown affair.

“What are all these symbols?”

Emmett looked down at the satanic runes, and glared at them, just so they’d stop shifting around the weave. “I think those are just designs, Mr. Bensen. The historical society told me this carpet is one-hundred and fifty years old.”

“It smells like dust,” Mrs. Bensen replied. “We’ll have to get rid of it.”

Still, she looked around the spacious room, at the exposed crossbeams above her, and then looked out the window. “What’s that, Emmett?”

“What’s what?” He went over to her, and looked out the window at the tree line, where a small group of crows were gathering in the yard.

“I believe those are birds.” He commented, trying to mask his annoyed tone. It could never be easy with these kinds of houses.

“Crows,” She corrected him. “You don’t think they’ll be a problem with little dogs, will you?”

“I doubt it,” he said. “They’re highly intelligent birds, and will remember you if you’re mean to them. They’ll leave you alone if you leave them alone, I’m sure.”

It was then that one immediately flew into the window, directly at Mrs. Bensen’s powdered face, and slammed into the glass. She startled backwards into an unperturbed Emmett, who caught her politely. They laughed it away, which was a good sign.

“It’s too good to be true.” Mr. Bensen finally told the real estate agent at the end of the tour. “What’s the catch?”

Emmett pursed his lips. “Well, it’s a low price. The garden is significantly overgrown, the driveway is narrow, and it’s a drive into town. But, the truth is, it has everything on your list and it’s a great investment in your future. The property value is only set to appreciate as the county’s economy grows.”

“So you’re saying we should buy this house.”

“I’m saying,” he clarified, “That in twenty years, people will be begging you to buy this land off for development at double or triple the value.”

That was enough for the Bensens.

“I can get the paperwork to you by Friday,” he told them eagerly, shaking both of their hands. “I’m going to go back inside and settle it with the county office.”

And so, the newlyweds left, driving away in their rickety sedan. Emmett let out a small breath and went back inside, locking the door behind him. He made his way to the kitchen where the one phone in the house was installed, and called the property manager.

He felt cold hands curl around his waist as he spoke on the phone, relaying the good news. Finally, someone who was eager to buy this house. It really was a steal, after all. It should have sold sooner. Sharp teeth nibbled at his ears.

Hanging up, he turned to the man, who was smiling at him widely, his teeth appearing sharp for just a moment. His eyes were too wolflike, but he blinked, and they were the same eyes that Emmett gave his soul away to. Handsome and mischievous.

They said that only devils worked in real estate. That was false. The devil only dated men who worked in real estate.

“I take it I did alright?”

“You,” He pressed hot lips into Emmett’s forehead, “were perfect. Hell, I think you could even sell me a house like this.”

Emmett smiled at his boyfriend, but shook his head. “I don’t think I could sell this house to someone with half a brain. You don’t make it easy.”

“That’s what so fun about it,” He wrapped his arm around Emmett. “Let’s pick up the paperwork and get dinner.”

And then, he allowed his partner to lead him out of the house, though the house seemed rather disappointed to see Emmett go. After all, he was their real estate agent.

Good Enough (b2)

prologue; part one; part two; part three; part four; part five; part six; part seven; part eight;part nine; part ten; part eleven; part twelve; part thirteen; part fourteen; part fifteen; part sixteen; part seventeen; part eighteen; part nineteen; part twenty; part twenty one; part twenty two; part twenty three; part twenty four; epilogue.

bonus scenes: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.

Sehun reached across the car to wrap his fingers around yours, squeezing them tight for your attention. “This will probably be the last time I do something like this,” he said with a hint of sadness in his low voice. “Especially if my father steps down at the end of the summer like he’s planning to do.”

Pulling your gaze away from Nari and Kira, who were sat opposite you playing i-spy out of Kira’s window, you shuffled closer along the backseat and rested your head on your husband’s broad shoulder. “It’s not written anywhere that the king can’t play a bit of charity basketball once in a while,” you told him softly, brushing your thumb across the back of his hand.

Keep reading

Gratitude [drabble]

twoteas said: bruce wayne, thanking batfam


“Alright,” Dick says, rolls his shoulders. Stretches out his arms and gives a full-body shake. “Let’s dothis, I’m ready.” 

“It’s a movie, genius,” says Jason, knocking shoulders with his elder brother. “It doesn’t require a warm-up.”

“Well if I don’t stretch now, I’m going to get antsy and stiff. But not necessarily in that order,” Dick says, gives him a… somewhat friendly shove, in return. Says, “Ooh, that reminds me. Dibs Dad!”

“I am a person, Dick,” Bruce says, from behind his boys. Dick jumps but Jason doesn’t, just laughs, while he continues; “You can’t call dibs on people.”

“Dibs sitting next to you, obviously,” Dick says, long-sufferingly. Like Bruce is being stupid. “Are the boys on their way down?”

“I gave them the two minute warning,” Bruce confirms, and Damian enters the parlour with stomping feet–

“I’ve called dibs on sitting next to Dad,” Dick tells the boy, grinning widely. He bounds forward to grab Damian’s tiny wrist and drag him, reluctant, into the room. Says, “You’re gonna love Ghostbusters. Probably.”

“Where will I sit?” Damian says, instead. He eyes Jason with a frown.

“I’ll sit in the middle of the couch,” Bruce offers. “You can sit on my other side.” And then, feeling a flash of familiar guilt, he glances at Jason, slouch-shouldered and raised-eyebrowed in the middle of the room. Says, “That’s okay, right?”

“No worries,” says Jason, and then, under his breath but in a voice clearly intended to carry; “Psychologists do say that it’s the middle children who are most often ignored or neglected.”

Bruce opens his mouth to… something. Apologise, even though he’s almost sure it was a joke, or possibly just say “Jay”, in that tone of all-too-familiar exasperation. Maybe offer to spend much, much more time together, just to give him an opportunity to roll his eyes and pretend to gag, but–

“You hear that, Babybird?” Jason says, loudly, when Tim walks through the doorway. “You and me are relegated to the floor.”

Tim just nods, like he didn’t expect anything else. 

“Come sit,” Dick calls, from the couch. There’s a deliberate space left between him and Damian, a Bruce-sized gap. Dick pats it invitingly and waggles his eyebrows, and Bruce mutters “Well there’s no way this is going to go well,” just loud enough for Jason and Tim to hear.

Tim snorts, and Jason gives a laugh, shoves him forward. Toward the couch.

“It’s a big couch,” Bruce says, when he sits bracketed between his boys. “There’s plenty of room for all of us.”

“And sit next to Dickie or the demon kid?” Jason scoffs. “No thank you.” 

And Bruce didn’t know it was possible to flop pointedly, but Jason has always managed to surprise him. 

“Well,” Damian sneers, “You’re stuck sitting with Drake, now.”

“Infinitely preferable,” Jason says, without pause. 

And Tim, beside him on the carpet, says, “Hell yeah,” and they high-five, without turning to face one another, Tim huffing his laugh.

“I’m a delightful seating companion,” Dick says, tossing down cushions nonetheless. And elbowing into Bruce’s side, but he’s not really sure if that’s deliberate or not. “Come on, let’s roll, guys. Who’s got the remote?”


It’s some time later when Bruce starts to stir. Unsure what’s woken him, he opens his eyes slowly, not moving otherwise.

The movie’s still playing, softly, in the background. Almost over. The screen is throwing the dark room into a pale blue glow, a familiar head of hair silhouetted in front of it. 

And Jason says, low, “You’re quite the trend-setter, you know?”

Is he talking to–?

“I mean,” the boy continues, still facing the television, “You fall asleep one time, and suddenly everybody’s doing it.” 

And Bruce lifts his head then, as something violent and non-sensical happens onscreen. Someone had, at one point, tucked a blanket around him. It’s one of the soft fleecy bedroom ones, not the scratchy, fancy throws Alfred keeps in the sitting rooms. Damian is smushed into his side, pressed tight against him. His arm is loosely around the boy, who’s making tiny, soft-snoring sounds. His face is pinched up in its usual scowl, but for Damian, he seems happy enough.

On his other side, Dick’s head is lolled against the back of the couch, Bruce’s hand pressed heavily against his knee. One of Dick’s arms is wrapped around himself, the other hand resting loosely on Bruce’s arm. 

And if he shifts his head just slightly, careful not to disturb his sleeping kids, he can see Tim curled up on the carpet, wrapped around a single cushion. Someone had tossed a jacket over his scrunched-up form. 

Jason’s still upright, arms wrapped around his shins, chin resting on his knees. Still watching the movie, for all that he isn’t. Sitting peaceably in a room with his sleeping brothers, empty snack containers and dishes sprawled around like collateral damage. A family movie night.

It’s then that Bruce is stuck with one of those rare, blinding moments of clarity. Of gratitude, and warmth, and a kind of wonderment that this is his family. He says, voice hoarse and quiet, “Thank you.” 

Jason half-turns, then, question on what little of his face Bruce can make out in the dark. Offers, “It was Tim that got the blanket.” 

“That too,” Bruce murmurs. Because he means it for everything.

And Jason looks as though he’s about to speak, face clouded with… indecision, realisation, when Tim, entirely asleep, mumbles “That wasn’ the plan,” and rolls onto his other side, stretching out his legs fully. And incidentally kicking into Jason.

Bruce can see the spot where Tim’s heels must be digging into Jason’s thigh, hears the half-laugh, half-sigh, the murmured, “You little shit,” and, “You’re lucky you’re asleep, kid.”

He sees Jason shift, reach out. Sure he’s about to wake the sleep-deprived Tim. But instead, Jason just. Rests his open palm on Tim’s ankle. Eyes on the TV again.

Bruce feels himself smiling, closes his eyes. Lets his head fall back against the couch. 

And it’s less than a minute later when he hears the ending credits, Jason saying, “Time to rouse the troops?”

He opens his eyes. “I think,” Bruce says, slow. “We’re all pretty settled, for the moment.” 

Jason eyes him from the floor, something like a smile on his face. Says, “You are getting, just, so sappy in your old age.” He stretches then, gently shifting Tim’s feet so he can stand, says, “I’ll stick in the sequel.”

“Jay, you don’t–” Bruce starts.

“It’s okay,” he says, changing around the DVD. “Tim’s in and out a bit. I’m sure he’ll wake up in a few and quote along to the damn movie.”

He blinks his eyes open to see that Jason’s looking at him. “Go back to sleep, old man,” he says, fondness heavy in the timbre of his of his voice. 

“I can still kick your butt,” Bruce says. Closes his eyes again anyway.

He falls asleep to Jason’s laughter.


Kinktober #31:  Any combo all of the above

All I can say is that this, friends, got quite out of hand. I have loved this month in its entirety - this fic is my heartfelt thanks to all of you <3

A note regarding Kinktober #31: all the verses/AUs in Kinktober are complete standalones. That goes double for this AU! It does not render any of the ones that came before it… not “real”. That being said:

Welcome to the out of control meta brainchild that is Prompt #31. 

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 - FINAL

The red carpet is spotlit from every angle, lined on all sides by throngs of screaming, adoring fans waiting to catch a glimpse of their favorite star or starlet. Reporters conduct interviews, actors and actresses in the finest evening wear pose for pictures in front of sponsor backdrops, camera and TV crews mill about the scene like overly large mosquitos looking for their next target to land on—it’s a well organized, glamorous scene of chaos.

The event is in full swing. Over the past few years, Hollywood has experienced a major revival, due to the combined factors of new talent, inclusivity, and a return to the creativity and originality that made the golden age of cinema such a revered time in media. A certain annual award ceremony has seen a return to the glory of its former days as well, and ratings are enormously high.

Tonight’s main event, as always, will be the big awards presented at the end of the night. But this year, all eyes are on the nominees for the award for Best Actor—two nominees, in particular.

The commotion that starts up when their car pulls up to the red carpet is unparalleled. Interviewers quickly wrap with their current subjects, security is hauled out to keep fans behind the guardrails, camera bulbs start popping at the rate of several flashes per millisecond. A reporter shouts into her microphone,

“I’m here, live at the 109th Academy Awards, where Tobio Kageyama and Shouyou Hinata have just arrived, on the scene—”

Online, Twitter is exploding. Tumblr is having a meltdown. Fans who can’t attend the event host viewing parties at home or liveblog their reactions as they watch the show. Fandom’s darlings have finally made their entrance.

Keep reading


Holy shit, I’m writing again! And for a fandom I never expected to do fics for - Pokemon. I dunno, man, Guzma just stole my heart. There’s so much to him that I want to work with. For now, I’m focused on my headcanon that he has nightmares a lot. I think the worst will be after he returns from Ultra Space. So here is a rough night with Guz and Plumeria.

Keep reading

Dirty Dancing (Pete Wentz)

Based off of the Request: Could you write an imagine where the reader is dating Pete and he’s at the studio or something one day and the reader is home alone and listening to kind of sexy music (Like Pony by Ginuwine or something, it doesn’t have to be that song) and she has headphones on so she’s dancing really sexy like when Pete comes home and he comes up behind her since she didn’t hear him get home and it leads to smut?? Only if you want to. Thanks! <3

Warning: Contains Smut

I sigh as I stare at the door, mentally willing Pete to walk through it, even though I know it’s still too early and he probably hasn’t even left the studio yet. I’ve been waiting for this night for weeks, finally getting to go to the new restaurant in town, and I can’t wait for Pete to come home. Sighing again, being overdramatic despite the fact i’m the only one home, I drop on the couch and throw my headphones in, throwing a playlist on shuffle. The second song to come up is Pony, and I can’t help but smirk as it begins. This song brings up certain memories, and I can’t help but bite my lip at the thought, the memories of Pete’s hands, lips, and tongue trailing down my body. I glance at the door once more in hope, but no one’s there. Biting my lip and grinning around the room, I decide to get up and begin to dance. I haven’t been in a dance class in years, but hip hop practically flows through my veins as I dance around the room, entertaining myself by dancing as sexy as the song permits( which, is like, extremely sexy). It isn’t until I catch a glimpse in the mirror, at the very end of the song, that I realize Pete is standing in the open doorway.

“Pete!” I say with a gasp, spinning around and pulling the headphones out.

“Oh, please don’t stop on my account,” he says with a smirk, pushing the door closed and moving closer to me, “Please, please, don’t stop”

I let out a laugh, “Oh, were you enjoying that?” I ask innocently as I notice Pete’s flushed face and bright eyes.

“You could say that” he says, walking up, spinning me around and sliding his hands over my waist and my stomach, pressing a kiss to my neck “Dance for me, (Y/N)” he whispers huskily in my ear, his voice giving me goosebumps.

“I could dance…” I say breathlessly, twisting in his arms and tracing his lips with my fingers, “Or we could do something else…” I trail off, kissing down his jaw.

He lets out a moan in response, tilting his head back as I kiss down his neck, bringing my fingers to the buttons on his shirt, unbuttoning it slowly. His hands run down my back as he pulls me even closer, pulling my lips to his, in a needy, eager, and oh-so-sexy kiss, causing me to moan in response. His hands leave my face to slip his shirt off, and mine joins it. He kisses me again, walking me backward until we hit the couch, and I fall onto my back, bringing him with me. I tilt my head back and he takes the hint, kissing and nipping at my neck as he slowly unbuttons my shorts and slides them down my legs, throwing them off the couch.

As soon as they’re off, I sit up, straddling his waist and grinding into his hips, and it doesn’t take long for me to feel exactly how much he’s enjoying this. He unclips my bra and runs his tongue and lips over my chest, distracting me until he flips us over, so he’s on top. I grin up at him and unbutton his jeans, helping him pull them off, as well as his boxers. He grins at me and goes back to kissing me, and the feeling of him rubbing against me through the thin material of my underwear makes me moan and writhe under him, and by the look on his face and his increasingly ragged breaths I would guess he’s enjoying it as much as I am.

“Pete” I say into his ear as I grip his hair, “Fuck me already” I beg.

Pete hums in response, lips attached to my neck as he slips his fingers into the hem of my underwear and slides it off. As soon as they hit the floor, Pete grabs my legs and wraps them around me, slowly sliding in. He stills, not moving until I beg him to, and then he’s sliding in and out at a pace that leaves both of us moaning and mumbling breathless comments.

“Oh shit, (Y/N)” Pete moans as I adjust my position and he speeds up.

“I-I’m close” I moan as I feel the familiar heat coiling in my stomach.

Before Pete has a chance to respond, I finish, and a few seconds later, Pete does too, collapsing on the couch next to me.

We both lay in silence for a few minutes, catching our breath and reveling in the feeling.

Pete rolls over so he’s looking at me, “Did you, Um, still want to go to that restaurant?” he asks grinning lazily.

“I think,” I say, pressing light kisses along his jawbone, “ That we might want a night in instead”

Pete’s laugh is cut off as I kiss him, and after another minute or two I roll on top of him, accidentally knocking us  of the couch, crashing onto the carpet below. Luckily, we’re so wrapped up in each other that we hardly even notice.

rosesbabygirl  asked:

Can you do a Shawn Mendes smut were he takes you to an award show and you teasing him the hole time like running you hand up his thigh and stuff and then when you get back to the hotel he "punishes" you ☺️ lol but like Yea My name is Athena btw😊

Sure! Here you go:)



At the hotel

 I was just getting ready for the Radio Disney Music Awards. I took a step back and looked at the mirror and I said to myself “Damn I did so good I deserve an award for the most sexiest girl in the world”. I put on some last minute touches and walked out of the bathroom to see if Shawn my boyfriend of three years was ready and yes if you were thinking Shawn Mendes than you are right. When I went out to see him I just stopped in my tracks to see Shawn shirtless. Like I’ve seen him shirtless many times but lately he’s been working out a lot and was building some muscles. From the waist and up was basic pure gold.

“I know your looking” Shawn smirked

I snapped back into to reality not realizing their was a mirror but I pretended I had no idea what he was talking about “No I wasn’t” I said in Miranda Sings voice.

“Sure you weren’t” Shawn smirked

“Anyways Shawn hurry up we’re going to be late” I said walking up to him to help him pick a nice shirt to wear.

I kissed Shawn and we both did last minute touches and left to go to the Award show.

 At the music awards

 We just wrapped up on the red carpet and we went to find our seats once we found them we sat and started talking to the people around us. Shawn was here because he got nominated for Best New Artist and also he was going to perform Something Big. The show started and everyone was cheering and clapping time went by they went through half of the sets Shawn was about to perform

Watch Shawn’s performance here

Shawn just wrapped up and they went on commercial break. Shawn came back from getting changed and sat back into his spot.

“You did great babe” I smiled

“Thanks Athena” he smiled backed

The break was over and the presenters came out to present the award to the winner of Best New Artist. This was it the moment we’ve been waiting for even if Shawn didn’t win his fans will always love him no matter what sadly Shawn didn’t win. Everyone got up and started cheering I looked at Shawn who was smiling but his eyes showed different. So I decide to play around with him because when we get home he’ll have his award if you know what I mean;) we sat back down the show was almost over another set was getting ready so I made my move with Shawn. I put my hand on his knee and worked my way up slowly I could here him breathing heavily john even looked at Shawn and asked if everything was okay Shawn said he was fine and he looked at me giving me that “you should stop right now” look but I ignored and continued. The show was over and I got my hand off of Shawn we were making our way to the car and Shawn grabbed my arm and whispered in my ear

“You’re so going to get it tonight” he said still holding me

“I don’t understand I never did anything wrong” said innocently

Back at the hotel

 “Oh Athena your so in trouble” Shawn said pushing me on to the bed.

“What do you mean daddy” I looked at him innocently he loved it when I called him daddy it was one of his weaknesses.

“Oh your so mean and now you’ll be punished” Shawn said stripping me leaving my body fully exposed

He took both of my hands and tied them together with his tie after he explored my body with his hands and stopped right above my soaking core. God I hated it when he did that and he knew and chuckled. He got up and looked my body I could tell he thinking what he was going to do to me which made me want more. He eyes a lined with mine then he spoke and said “Athena you’re going to get your fantasy.”

“Well I like where this is going” I said more amused.

“Ah yes I knew you would say that because I was just joking” Shawn said laughing

I rolled my eyes “I hate you”

“Love you too” he said “but no your going to do a test and I now you really hate test and all the girls I’ve dated went through it plus yours is going to be a little harder then the others” he smirked  

I laughed, “Well what do I have to do so I pass this really hard test?”

“I’m glad you asked because I brought some tools to help me make sure you don’t pass because it’s impossible to pass my test,” he said with a sexy devil smile. “The only reason its going to be impossible because But in order for you to pass this test you Athena are not allowed to cum until I say so and if you do cum we start all over and its going to get harder for you because I know you won’t be able to handle it and cause none of the other girls could do it either and no one really likes to re-do test so be a good girl and don’t cum until I say so do you understand?” Shawn said

I nodded my head “Ye-yes I do” I stuttered. I also loved it when Shawn becomes a daddy Dom its something his fans would be surprised of if they found out, but he would probably get more famous of it.

“Good now you’re probably going to be screaming and moaning and John is outside so we don’t want him to come in on us so bit on this ball attached to this collar

(I didn’t know what the ball thing was called so yea…)

” Shawn said while he put the ball collar thing on me this was probably the sexist thing that has ever happened to me in all my relationships. He got up and went to the suitcase and pulled out a small vibrator and brought it to the bed and a lined himself with me and he didn’t even ask me if I was ready and he turned on the vibrator and put I right above my core. Shawn bent down to my core I could feel his hot breathe on my core yet again without warning he started licking my core the way he used his tonged gave shivers throughout my body. The vibrator was on low and then I felt his finger go into me he was licking and fingering me it was perfect. He added another finger and he already hit my g-spot now it was getting intense.

“Remember don’t cum until I tell you too” Shawn said

I couldn’t keep it in he was going to fast so I came. Then he stopped and looked at me.

Nodding his head in disbelief “What a shame you couldn’t keep it in now you have to do it again and it’s going to get harder” was all he said and started again with everything going medium pace.

He went in with two fingers and I was moaning too loudly until we heard a knock on the door “Shawn Athena is everything okay in there?” It was John Shawn looked at me but he was still going he stopped licking my core so he could respond back to John.

“Yeah everything is fine we just messing around.” Shawn said

“Okay if you need anything I’ll be outside”

“Okay thanks John” Shawn replied and he looked at me and had the biggest grin on his face “oh your now its totally going to be worse I told you to stay quite and you didn’t what would’ve happened if John walked in on us.”

I gave the “I’m sorry” look but he didn’t accept. Shawn took his pants off revealing his length; he was fingering me hard and fast with the vibrator on high speed. I already hit my g-spot he took his fingers out of me “don’t cum yet”

Before I could say anything he rams in his 9 inches length into me unexpectedly and he didn’t give me anytime to adjust to him but it felt so good. I was a moaning mess he untied my hands and took my collar ball thing out of my mouth then he turned the vibrator off threw it to the side and picked me up (note he was still fucking me while doing all of that) I was now bouncing on his 9 inches and it got deeper and deeper. My nails dug into his back leaving scratches I felt my walls clenching around him.

“Shawn I’m close,”

“Me too babe cum for daddy,”

So I did I rode out my high and he put me down I thought we were done but Shawn wasn’t  “babe we aren’t done yet now open wide daddy has a great gift for you” Shawn said deep throating me he went in all the way and out about ten times my mouth was filled with his pleasure he then went in again and held it their for sometime and I started to gag and more pleasure filled my mouth he took out his length and said “be a good girl and swallow for daddy” so I did and showed him he smiled “good girl” and he passionately kissed me. He lay down next tome with our hands in twined together.

“Thank you” he said

“Your welcome” I smiled back

“I knew you only did that because I didn’t win tonight and you knew how much it meant to me.” He said kissing my nose. And after that we both cuddled together until we feel asleep.


I hope you liked it and this was what you somewhat wanted:)

This was also my first time writing smut so yea

sorry this was late my brother restored my hole entire laptop and  lost everything and i had this done i was going to post it but it was never recovered so i and to restart:( But i still hope you liked it:)

Please like/reblog if you enjoyed this:)

still accepting imagines if you want one message me:)

Unintended Chapter 3


summary: Foreston Academy was the very last resort for angry, lonely Dan Howell. He never could have imagined meeting anyone like Phil Lester, and Phil never could have known that befriending his new roommate would change his life entirely.

Is there such a thing as being too forgiving?

betas: comefeedmyobsession and kaleidanscope

wc: ~4k 

warnings: descriptions of fire

a/n: i am alrEADY so sick of uploading this only another 10 chapters and an epilogue to go((((((:

Even though PJ hadn’t actually mentioned to Phil taking Dan down to Firespot, the thought had still raced through Phil’s head as an extension to their conversation as he headed back down the hallway.

Although this thought made him sad, Phil was ever an optimistic person, and believed that Foreston and his own supportiveness towards Dan together would eventually get Dan to come round. If Phil couldn’t take Dan down to Firespot tonight, maybe he could another night.

When Phil arrived back in the room, Dan and Alyssa unlocked lips to each give Phil an angry scowl.

‘I am not leaving,’ said Phil, stretching his arms with a loud yawn and starting to hum a tune happily as he took out a notepad.

Dan and Alyssa stared in shock.

'I’m just gonna draft out a letter to the family,’ chirped Phil, partly radiating his usual sunshine, but partly enjoying the horrified looks on their faces. Alyssa had been quite the bitch in the past, and even he wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to get on her nerves a bit.

Still humming, he flipped the pages in his notebook noisily, crackling the paper and clicking his pen a few times when he saw Dan’s hand tracing back towards Alyssa’s boob.

He leapt up and smiled widely at the two teenagers.

'Mind if I put some music on?’ He was still happy and smiling, and skipped over to the mini-stereo without waiting for an answer.

He half wasn’t expecting one, he seemed to have shocked them so much, but Dan was clearing his throat and glaring at him.

'Uh? Yeah? I do mind!’

Phil turned up a Blink-182 track before doing a little dance and turning back to Dan, desperately trying not to laugh and to keep his smile genuine.

'What!?’ He shouted, cupping a hand around his ear, 'What did you say?’

'I said,’ screamed back Dan, 'turn the fucking music down!’


/I’ll add some blink lyrics here but I want something really good and couldn’t think of anything appropriate off the top of my head so any suggestions are appreciated!!/

'Turn it down!’ He turned back to Alyssa and Phil saw him tell her to ignore him, before trying to make out with her again. She looked back at him with disgust, clambering off the tiny bed with equal scowls of disdain at both of the boys, turning off the stereo and striding towards the door with her hips rocking.

'Wait! Alyssa! Where’re you going?!’ Dan slid off the bed towards the door but Alyssa turned round sharply.

'Out. I’ll come back when you can be arsed to put me before your loser roommate.’


Alyssa’s eyebrows shot up her high forehead.

'Don’t fucking call me that,’ she hissed, before spitting on the carpeted floor and picking her way out of the room and into the corridor, slamming the door as hard as she was able.

Phil knew Alyssa, and if Dan wanted to keep her, he needed to go after her now. Luckily, Dan was too busy being angry at Phil.

'What the fuck, do you think you’re doing?’

'Ew, gross. She spat on the floor.’

'Hey, wanker! Are you listening to me!?’

'I reckon you should clean this up.’

'What?!’ Dan was stunned. He hadn’t thought that his roommate was quite so… Audacious.

'Yeah, well, you seem happy for her spit to be in your mouth, so it shouldn’t be an issue to clean off the floor, right?’

Dan’s face was filled with such anger that Phil’s courage started to crumble.

This boy had been expelled. For what? What had he done? And what could he do to Phil?

Fury clouded Dan’s face and his chocolate eyes turned to dark stones. Phil started backing up against the other side of the room.

'Who. The. Fuck,’ he hissed, each word thrown as a silver knife slicing through Phil, 'do you think you are?’


'How. Dare. You!’

Dan’s hands had curled into quivering fists of anger. Phil thought of Chris and PJ, locked away in their own cosy room at the other end of the corridor. He didn’t own a mobile phone, and neither did Peej.

'Dan, I’m sorry! I didn’t realise she was… Important..?’ Dan had only met her today! Why was he so furious?! Especially after the way he had treated Phil all day!

Dan’s brain unfogged briefly, just enough for him to respond to Phil’s comment. Of course Alyssa wasn’t important. He didn’t even like her that much. But- But- Phil had-

What exactly had Phil done? Interrupted them? The reason Alyssa had left was because he, Dan, wouldn’t stand up to Phil.

Well, he thought, red flooding his vision again as he remembered Phil’s rude comments about him cleaning up Alyssa’s spit, Dan would stand up to Phil now. That would show him. That would show everyone.

'Dan,’ he heard Phil whimper as he approached the pathetic specimen, and all Dan could do was laugh. He loved it when he was more powerful than another, loved the feeling of someone else being completely helpless right in front of him. It made him feel whole, it made him feel alive.

'Dan, you don’t want to hurt me,’ Phil was sliding down the wall as Dan raised his fists with a cruel glare, 'no, seriously, you can’t get kicked out on your first day! Your parents-’

His parents. His parents. How did Phil know about his parents!? How could he possibly know!?

Dan’s hand slammed into Phil’s shoulder, pinning him against the wall, their noses only inches apart as Dan hissed into Phil’s face.

'What do you know about my parents!?’

'Nothing! Nothing, I just- what would they say if you got expelled again-’

Phil quickly flicked his face to one side to try and protect himself, assuming his comment would only rile Dan up, but it infact had the opposite effect.

Dan took a deep gulp, eyes beading with tears, and crumpled to the floor, letting go of Phil immediately, who ended up crumpled beside him.

To Phil’s utter horror, Dan’s eyes started streaming, his breath coming in thick raspy heaves.


'Why can’t I-’ Dan wailed, ’-do anything right!?’ He thrust his head against the wall and Phil had to dive out of the way to avoid being headbutted.

'Dan-’ Phil grabbed Dan’s shoulders and pulled him back as he attempted to hit his head again, 'Dan- please stop, please,’ the boy was scaring Phil now.

'I’m so useless! I’m just this huge fuck-up, Phil, I- I-’

'Dan, please stop. You’re not a fuck-up, you’re just-’


Dan dissolved into tears so ferocious that his body shook with each sob as he curled up on the carpet, arms wrapped desperately around his body. Phil was shocked to put it mildly; this outburst was worse than any of Dan’s tears he had experienced yesterday.

'You don’t know me,’ Dan muttered, gasping for air between the violent sobs.

'Then, Dan,’ Phil put a gentle hand on Dan’s shoulder, pushing him up into a sitting position, 'let me.’ Phil laughed at how anime he sounded, and Dan stared in confusion, his sobs slowing but the tears still running a river down his cheeks. 'I mean, um, let me get to know you. Tell me about you…’ He broke off as Dan fell into fresh howls of sorrow, this time completely and utterly inconsolable.

For the second time in the two days Dan had been at Foreston, Dan missed his dinner. But this time, Phil did as well. Although Phil could do nothing to help the boy, he stayed there holding his hand until the tears subsided and he collapsed on his bed into a troubled sleep.




'Where is he right now?’

'In our room, wiped out. That’s why I have to be quick- I want to be there when he wakes up. God knows what he could do.’ And plus, thought Phil, he wanted Dan to know Phil was there for him, no matter how much of a 'fuck-up’ Dan thought hewas.

'Ok, I can probably do that. You game, Chris?’

Chris shouted over from the corner, where he was busy tapping away on a laptop, 'Yeah, yeah Phil, you can count on us! I mean, I don’t have a clue what you actually want me to do, I wasn’t listening, So bear that in mind when I say I’m happy to help. If 'help’ means you want to cheer him up by selling my body to him, I’m afraid I may be out…’

'You’re a prat, Chris,’ snorted PJ as Phil laughed.


Dan was awoken by the tinkling of a tune he thought he recognised, but couldn’t place for the life of him.


As Dan’s eyes slowly unglued themselves, he rolled over in his bed (nearly falling out in the process) to watch a tall black-haired figure stumble across the room to turn off the glowing object that was emitting the weirdly familiar music.

Dan’s brain slightly waking up, he realised that it was Phil’s fancy clock, and that the music must be an alarm. A glance at the garish letters told him that it was past midnight on a Monday so, technically, as his sluggish mind pointed out to him, it was Tuesday.

Phil turned round when he heard Dan groan.

'You awake?’

Dan simply grunted, dragging his duvet clumsily over his head with another groan when Phil opened the curtain to let a bright stream of moonlight glow up the room.

'Come on!’ Dan pushed the cover away from his head for a moment to see that Phil was practically skipping with excitement.

Then he remembered.


'Come on come on come on!’ Phil was next to Dan’s bed, positively glowing with excitement, before he grabbed Dan’s hand and yanked him out from his warm cosy den of sleep, pulling him towards the door.

'Phil, I’m in my underwear!’

Phil turned round and looked the boy up and down briefly before the two of the dissolved into giggles.

'Grab a t-shirt and jacket,’ he whispered, pushing him towards the wardrobe before the two of them started giggling again.




When Phil got back from Chris and PJ’s room that evening, he only had to wait another half hour for Dan to wake up.

When he did, Dan was a mess.

'Please don’t make me tell you anything.’


'I don’t want… I mean, I think… You would hate me… More than now… I…’

'Shut up Dan,’ Phil’s voice was soft, and he put an arm around Dan, the two of them now sat on Dan’s bunk with their backs propped up against the wall together, 'I actually don’t hate you, you don’t seem to be able to comprehend-’

'You would,’ Dan’s voice was almost inaudible.

'You’re not following me, Dan, I don’t care what you’ve done in the past, what’s important is-’

'Phil, I’m a fuck-up. You’re not. And I just… I just don’t want to talk about it.’

Phil did want to talk about it. In his experience, nothing helped better than a friend. But he didn’t want to push Dan away, so he decided to let it go for now.

'Can we be friends, Dan?’

Dan was silent as he stared down at his hands. Phil was starting to notice that Dan could never keep his hands still - he was always fidgeting, twitching his fingers or tapping away as though he was perpetually playing a keyboard in his head.

'I don’t know,’

'Why? Am I… Am I doing something wrong?!’

'No, no! I mean… We just, those other guys, David and Patrick and Alyssa,hey’re more like me. Not you… Not you, Phil.’

'How are they more like you? They’re all… Well, to put it bluntly Dan, they’re all kinda dickheads.’

Silence. And then: 'Exactly.’

Phil didn’t know what to say to that.

'You don’t have to be like them.’ Is what he settled for at length, trying desperately to break the silence.

'I am though. I can’t change who I am.’

'You’re not! I was watching you today, Dan, and you looked bored! You’re interesting and funny and creative and you don’t need to hang round with idiots like that because you feel like that’s what you deserve, or whatever it is you think.’

'Shut up waffling. And plus; those “idiots” are my friends.’

Dan’s voice was cold, and Phil panicked. Could he do nothing right with this boy? He had always thought he was good with people - he made friends easily and most people who knew him adored him -yet he didn’t seem to be able to do anything right with Dan.

'I’m sorry,’ he mumbled, also staring at his own pale hands now, 'I… please don’t hate me.’

Dan’s hands were slightly more tanned than Phil’s, his fingers less long and nails less nibbled. Phil watched as he interlaced his fingers agitatedly, giving away some of the emotion his passive face hid so well.

'I don’t hate you,’ Phil heard Dan whisper.

Phil knew what he wanted to say now.

'Come to Firespot with me tonight. It’s fun, you can actually get to know my friends… Maybe we can start afresh, If you want?’


'I told you 'bout it last night - the campfire thing out in the woods.’ Dan’s face was blank. 'Just after I turned the lights out and you were pretending to be asleep…’

Phil wondered if he’d upset Dan or if the boy would just deny it, but to his delight Dan just chuckled a little and looked up at him with a tiny sad smile on his face.

'Yeah… yeah, ok.’ At that moment Phil’s stomach gave a rumble, 'Hh god, you didn’t get anything to eat, did you!?’

'Oh it’s fine, I’ve sorted it,’ Phil flashed a wide smile at Dan, trying desperately and mostly failing to hide how overjoyed he was that Dan was coming to Firespot with him, before jumping off the bed and hopping over to the stereo.

'Help me pick something to listen to, friend.’



'So… What was your alarm song thing? I think I might have recognised it.’

'Oh, um, it’s from the soundtrack to some anime film.’

They spoke in whispers because they were creeping down the grounds together, having gotten out of the building successfully and gone out through the conservatory doors that were left open every Monday night for the students who were in the know about Firespot. Dan had insisted on putting on some proper clothes and shoes; there was no way he was going to a campfire in the middle of the night dressed only in his underwear.

'Which film? I love anime!’

'One of the Ghibli ones, I think? It’s bad, but I can’t actually remember, I’ve had it as my alarm for so long.’

'What’s your favourite anime Phil?’ The grass was soft and springy under Dan’s feet, the moonlight bright and Dan’s excitement was building.

'Film or show?’

'Either. Both. I don’t know!’

‘It has to be Iwatobi Swim Club in terms of show, I mean, all the muscles. I identify with Gou spiritually.’

‘Oh yes! I love that show, how it just,’ Dan clenched his fist, staring at the ground all of a sudden, ‘ended without warning.’

The moon shone brightly in the sky and autumn leaves crunched under their feet as they tiptoed down towards the dark treeline across the grounds.

They talked in hushed voices about things they liked and things they didn’t like, about books and films and shows and games, and because Phil didn’t ask about anything to do with Dan’s past, the conversation was light and easy and enjoyable.

Turns out, thought Dan, maybe he could hold a good conversation. Or maybe it was just Phil.

Soon they were close to the trees, and when he really listened hard during the gaps in conversation, Dan thought he could hear the quiet strains of music coming from somewhere in the woods.

They wandered a little further until they were past the treeline, Phil picking his way through the dark woods easily.

'Listen,’ whispered Phil mid- sentence, pulling one hand to his ear and the other grabbing Dan’s forearm, forcing Dan to stop walking and stand stock-still next to Phil. 'You hear them?’

Dan did hear them. the sound of music, and beneath it laughter and chatter and happiness. It filled him with a buzz, which only increased when he looked over at Phil, who was gazing at him with a strange mix of excitement and anticipation and… pride. He was proud of this school, of Firespot, of everything he had to show his new roommate, Dan realised.

Dan had an overwhelming urge to throw his arms around Phil and pull him into a tight hug, to say thankyou for helping him and understanding him and not hating him, even after the shitty way Dan had behaved over the last couple of days. He wanted to be here in the woods on this cool September night and hold his first ever… friend- since childhood- close under the moonlight streaming through the leaves above them and just… say thankyou.

The emotion was overwhelming when Dan realised that he considered Phil a friend. So much so that he honestly did consider trying to hug him, just for a second.

But of course he didn’t.


(a/n: this next bit is all about the campfire, inc. roasting marshmallows etc)


Just as they approached the clearing, Dan closed his eyes and inhaled the cool night air- it smelt like pine wood and burning and silver moonlight.

Moonlight has a smell, trust me. If you don’t know that then you haven’t been out in the middle of the autumn in a wood at midnight with a raven-haired boy with shining blue eyes staring back at you with excitement and pride, tiny clouds of warm air spiralling out into the darkness every time he takes an excited little puff of breath.

Phil took Dan’s hand in his own cold soft one, and pulled him forwards through the trees. Dan was so taken by surprise by the gentle contact that he for a second froze in Phil’s grasp, staring at their intertwined hands.

Phil followed his gaze, ‘Oh, sorry,’ he said, letting go, a hot pink blush flooding his pale cool cheeks.

Dan instantly felt the warmth leaving his hand. ‘No, no. I… I like it. Friendly. I…’ he wasn’t making any sense, so silently took another deep breath and a step forwards, grasping Phil’s hand tightly in his own. The boy looked at Dan and smiled a happy smile.

They stood there for a second in the shadows, moonlight playing on their hair and skin and faces, before Phil took the first step forward.

‘S’gonna be okay,’ he whispered to Dan, who had not really relaxed ever since the arms of the trees had first surrounded them- he hated trees, and to be right in their midst felt incredibly claustrophobic and intimidating. But with a warm hand squeeze and a smile from Phil, the two boys walked forward together through the dark silhouettes of the trees, taking their steps slowly as their feet crunched on the autumn leaves beneath them.

And with a precipitous blaze of surprise, the trees around them were flickering with golden light, and the laughter and the music and the happiness filled their ears and a radiant beam filled Phil’s face from ear to ear, and Dan dissolved into a dreamlike state as Phil dragged him around the circle and introduced him to everyone, and the music tickled his eardrums and tempted his body and the fire- the huge fire in the centre of the clearing- made everything golden and his eyes stream and his nose smell soot and barbeque food and the flames danced around him expressing every emotion at once.

He was surrounded by beautiful people bathed in golden orange light dancing and twirling and laughing, everyone with huge smiles on their faces and uncaring of what other people would make of them- simply having fun with their friends. There were two boys further back sat on a log, cloaked in shadows, playing guitars, a girl tapping a tambourine, and lots of people singing. Dan could see a few other instruments around- a ukulele lay abandoned, another girl held a flute in her lap- but they weren’t playing. Dan hoped he’d get to hear them later.

Dan was afraid of a lot of things- for example moths and darkness and trees- three things that were all present tonight, in fact- but he wasn’t afraid of fire. He wasn’t afraid of the way fire danced and flickered and shone light upon everything in its vicinity. Dan found fire exquisite and enchanting, and soon was so under the happy friendly dancing spell of Firespot that he found himself understanding why Phil loved it so much. He found himself loving it.

‘Dan,’ whispered Phil in his ear, ‘earth to Dan!’

Dan looked up at Phil, sat on the log next to him, smirking and handing him a stick with a marshmallow speared on the end of it. PJ and Chris were already crouching beside the flames, the fire licking their marshmallows and painting them black. Dan’s mouth started to water- he hadn’t eaten any dinner.

As Dan and Phil got up from the logs and approached the fire, Phil leaned again to Dan and whispered, ‘Peej and Chris went down to the kitchens for us earlier- we have tons of food to eat! To be honest, everyone here usually makes quite an event of the first night back at Firespot- a midnight feast, if you will.’

Dan felt drunk with happiness as he toasted marshmallows over the flickering dancing heat with Phil, Chris and PJ joining them so they could all take their first bites together- and it was all the gooey slimy sugary burn-your-tongue goodness that Dan could ever have dreamed of. It felt like heaven.

‘So… Tell me more about,’ Dan gestured around him, ‘the people here.’

The looks on PJ and Phil’s faces were made simultaneously of sunshine and moonlight, flickering flames and light laughter. Phil’s tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth.

‘We here,’ said Phil, ‘we’re /all/ misfits.’



These people- they liked him. They accepted him.

At least, Dan thought they did. He surely must be wrong- but…

He couldn’t ask- he couldn’t- he would sound so needy, so lame…

But he loved it here. These people were so much more fun than who he had spent time with today. He realised how much rather he would be here, accidentally setting sausages on fire over a bonfire with Phil, than making out with a girl he barely knew- someone who deep down, he didn’t actually really like…

But why would these people like him? Why would anybody actually like Dan? He had been so awful…


Dan even considered that it was all an elaborate set-up, that at some point Phil and Chris and PJ would jump out and go ‘ha! We hate you really! You fell for it! Idiot!’ Dan knew it was stupid, but he just couldn’t help himself.

Dan watched the flames, overwhelmed by the personal conflict, until as if he had heard his thoughts, Dan felt Phil nudge his arm.

‘I’m really glad you’re here Dan,’ he whispered, blue eyes shining bright with honesty.

‘Really?’ Dan’s comment was almost inaudible, but Phil heard it.


Dan had to turn away before Phil saw the tears of happiness that were pooling in his eyes. He had to do it, he thought. A new leaf. A fresh start.

Perhaps…. Perhaps it was possible after all.

Dan lay his head on Phil’s shoulder. The boy looked over, surprised, before relaxing into his side with a smile, their warm bodies pressed together.

It was so late, and Chris’ eyes were so heavy, his senses dulled by the food and the fun and the extraordinariness of the night. But he had never felt more happy than now, as he leant back against the bark of a tree and watched the silhouette of his roommate spiral joyously through the flames, completely unaware of how beautiful a dancer he was. Chris yawned and closed his eyes for a second, the image of PJ burning into his retinas, a feeling of longing sweeping over him along with the powerful wave of tiredness.

PJ was far too perfect- he was kind and funny and ridiculously creative- he danced like a god with a orange halo of light highlighting every loose strand of his wild hair, the flickering flames causing the sweat on his face to shine, his lips an orange-pink.

Chris had only known him two days, so how was it that he felt he had loved him for all his life?

Stop it, Chris he was drifting off, eyes closed, head back against the tree trunk, Stop being stupid, his head was so heavy…. You barely know him

That night, as PJ (with assistance from a tired Phil) carried Chris back to the room, unable to arouse him, they didn’t know that he was deep in a dream containing the very boy who held him.

4. nightmares - masterpost

Films I'd like to see PIaLR John & Sherlock do...

-A big magical/fantasy film as the sympathetic villain who ends up switching to the good side. Especially if there is ridiculous CGI that pisses him off constantly (“It’s just a flash of light! What do you mean, you’ll add it in post?”) so he starts showing SFX how to do chemisry-induced in-camera magical effects, like throwing flames from his hands and using reflections of biolumecent alge to create the look of gathering light to himself.
-A close, clever indie student film written and directed by one of his acting scholarship students. The student asked him if he would have the time and would be willing to read the script and perhaps suggest edits - the writing was shakey, but Sherlock loved the premise so he hooked the student up with a screenwriter buddy and decided to produce the indie himself.
-A hilarious, genuinly funny RomCom with a powerful social message about the inherent mysoginy that can sometimes leak into RomCom films. The gender tropes are reversed and everything that normally happens to the female character happens to the male, and vice versa.

-Voicing the first openly gay Disney prince. (“What do you mean, I have to sing? Oh, god. Sherlock! Help me learn how to read sheet music!”)
-A psychotic, bloody serial killer with a terrifying smile and some serious pinache. John loves the wardrobe so much that he buys it all from the wrap sale and scares/titilates the fans by showing up to red carpet events wearing key pieces.
- A war epic, but one that is totally factually correct. John plays a doctor instead of a soldier, and the main plot follows the trouble the veteran main character has with readjusting to civilian life. John is listed as the military and the medical advisor in the credits.
-Marvel Cinematic Movie-verse - LONGSHOT. ‘Nuff said.

Sorry not sorry, @madlori. I just can’t stop thinking about it.

safeinpeetasarms  asked:

Hi! My birthday is November 9th and I would LOVE a pregnancy fic any rating :))) Thank you so much for all you do here! It's absolutely wonderful <33

Originally posted by es-muy-simple

Wishing you a most joyful birthday! To help you celebrate, @peetabreadgirl has written this lovely little Everlark story just for you. Enjoy!

Don’t Tempt Me, Part 4

written by @peetabreadgirl

rated T

A/N - Happy birthday! This is a part 4 to a semi-wip, titled Don’t Tempt Me, but can be read as a stand alone! I hope your day is wonderful and you enjoy this bit of drama. Pbg

The end of my work day can’t come quick enough, so I skip lunch and leave early. I’m concerned about Katniss and I want to get home to check on her. She’s had some kind of stomach bug and she’s determined not to give it to me, so for the past few days she’s been sleeping in her own bed. It’s so hard to fall asleep without her back against my chest and my nose nuzzled into her hair, drawing in the hint of vanilla from her shampoo. God, I miss her next to me more than I’d miss my right leg if it were taken.

We haven’t slept apart since the first night we had sex, three months ago. Sometimes the nights are full of the smell of sweat and the sounds of panting. Other times they’re filled with nothing but contented sighs and even breathing. I love every minute we’ve spent together. So much that I can’t see my life without her now. I haven’t brought the subject up to her, though. I’m concerned it may be too soon for her think about forever, and I don’t want the current situation to become the norm again. I don’t think I can handle it.

Keep reading

Snapshot 10: The Separation of Spouses pt. 4

A/N: SURPRISE. lol. Betcha didn’t see this coming.

Day 100.


Arizona raises her eyebrows at the accusation. She’d forgotten what a baby Callie was when it came to things like this.

Sofia, She flicks her gaze briefly to her daughter who’s already on the verge of laughter. Do you think Mommy is being a sore loser?

The little girl giggles before nodding easily. Callie makes a loud scoff like she’s been betrayed.

I hate this game anyway. The brunette mumbles, crossing her arms. All luck. No skill.

Arizona smiles, rolling her eyes. They’re all gathered around the coffee table, playing monopoly. Well, playing monopoly until Callie got bankrupted by Arizona’s Boardwalk. Now, the blonde couldn’t help having flashbacks of the year during their marriage when they’d tried to instate family game nights; it was then that she’d learned about Callie’s fiercely competitive nature regarding generally anything that came in board form.

Aw, come here. She cooed at the other woman, stretching out her arms, much like she’d done time and time before (when they were married, of course) You want a hug?

Get away from me.

Come on Sofia. I think Mommy wants a hug.

I swear Arizon—

The words don’t get out by the time the blonde has basically lunged at the other woman and wrapped her up in tight embrace. Callie falls back onto the carpet, yelling like she’s being attacked.

Get off!

Stop being a baby!

Arizona starts laughing when Callie’s screams turn into dramatic yelps. She quickly swings a leg over the brunette, effectively pinning her. Sofia, not wanting to be left out jumps on top of both of them, laughing unaware of the awkward position her mothers are now in. Arizona realizes too late that her pelvis is smashed into Callie’s, and the only thing really separating their torsos is the brunette’s uncomfortably bent arm.

Uh oops.                                        

What? Callie grunts, trying one last time to wiggle from under her ex before finally sighing in resignation.

I’m… Arizona feels odd talking so closely to Callie’s face as Sofia basically bounces on her back. This got a little weird.

Callie smirks awkwardly. It’s not like it’s the first time you’ve been on top of me.

A grimace takes over Arizona’s expression. Dirty jokes, really?

Oh, I’m sorry? Are you the only one who can play dirty? Callie tries to tilt her head in a suspicious manner, but in her restrained position, it looks more like an uncomfortable twitch. I know you were stealing money from the bank.

Arizona leans in just a bit, grunting only slightly as Sofia wiggles on her back. I have no idea what you’re talking about, you big baby. She clicks her tongue

Yeah right… Callie purses her lips and Arizona looks down at them amused for a moment. The brunette was wearing dark lipstick today, she notices. Very pretty.

Sofia jumps again, and Callie makes a face of discomfort at the sudden pressure. But Arizona doesn’t seem to notice that much anymore because she just stays peering at her ex. A weird look on her face. The brunette furrows her brow slightly. Are you planning to let me up any time soon because mi culo is starting to chafe?

Arizona immediately looks embarrassed, realizing how long she’d been basically straddling her ex. She tries to pull away but is once again reminded of the warm weight resting atop her back.

Sof. Baby. I think Mommy got the hug she wanted. Let’s let her go, okay.

Ookay the girl giggles, bouncing once more against her mother’s back before getting off. Arizona shoots up to her feet, shining a wobbly smile at her daughter.

You wanna play Candy land? Let’s play Candy land.


Later on, after Sofia has nodded off into a restful nap, the two women find themselves sitting on the living room couch together, flipping through television stations.

Ooh Jurasstic Park is on. Wanna watch that? Callie throws over to Arizona without ever taking her eyes off the screen. The blonde makes a casual eh’ sound, shrugging her shoulders.

I never really cared for it.

Callie snorts, flicking her eyes over to her ex for a moment. You’re joking right?

No. Why?

Suddenly, Callie’s flipping stops, and Arizona feels the sofa cushion beside her dip a little more. She turns to see her ex leaning toward her and staring with intense eyes.

What, Callie?

What do you mean ‘what’? You don’t like Jurassic Park? Who are you?

Arizona Robbins.
Callie rolls her eyes at the quip. I married you. How did you never tell me this?

Arizona scoffs. I’m sorry, Calliope. Maybe next time I’ll wear a disclaimer.

Callie reaches over to put her hands on both of Arizona’s shoulders. Are you telling me (she gives the other woman a very grave look) that you’ve seen all of Jurassic Park, and you genuinely don’t like it.

Arizona bites the inside of her cheek. I’ve seen approximately (she pauses for a second in thought) 24 minutes maybe.

You’ve only seen 24 minutes, and you’ve made the assumption that you don’t like it!?!

The other woman shrugs.

Alright, fine. Callie sighs lifting her hands from the blonde’s shoulders and returning to her original position on the couch. Arizona breathes, quietly relieved (the contact was irritatingly warm). It seems your noncommittal nature has cheated you out of a good movie.

Oookay… Arizona sends the brunette an eyeroll.

I guess we’ll just have to watch it tonight and right that wrong. Callie declares, setting down the remote and crossing her arms.

Arizona makes a face. Do we? She sighs. Do we really?… Because I’d rather do anything else.

Callie bites her lip for a second, thinking. Okay, we’ll make it interesting then. If you watch the entire thing, and it turns out to be good, you give me something. And if it turns out bad, I give you something.

Don’t we already have a bet going?

I’m sure the Betting Gods will forgive us for doubling up. Callie retorts.

Haha… Arizona shoots a look at her ex before pursing her lips in consideration. Okay, fine.  She finally says, turning toward Callie while bringing her leg to rest up on the couch. If you win, what do you want?

The bed. The answer some instantly. One night. The bed. And you sleep on the couch.

Arizona bites the inside of her cheek for a moment before nodding tentatively. The pullout mattress wasn’t that comfortable. It was springy. And itchy.  And it also had the faint odor of pennies. Old dirty pennies.

Fine. The blonde sighs, reaching for Callie’s hand to grasp it in a loose shake. Oddly, she finds this contact to be irritatingly warm too, but before she can pull away Callie is grasping her hand back. Arizona clears her throat, resettling her eyes on her ex’s. But if I win, she starts. I want you to cook breakfast tomorrow. Eggs, bacon, pancakes, the whole shebang.

Hm, that’s fair. Callie quickly agrees, letting go of Arizona’s hand after a firm squeeze.



Arizona turns to see wide, excited eyes peering at her. Eh she shrugs.

Suddenly the wide, excited eyes narrow in confusion. What does ‘eh’ mean?

It means ‘eh’.

Did you like the movie or not?

The blond hums in thought for a moment, watching as Callie’s expression goes from anxious to impatient to irritated. She smiles. It was okay. Would I ever watch it again? Probably not.

Callie’s face falls, and suddenly, Arizona wishes she would have said she loved it, even if that meant having to spend the night face down in a penny-scented mattress.

How could you not like it?

I’m just not that interested in dinosaurs…

Callie places her hands over her face in disappointment, and Arizona coos, reaching over instinctively to pull gently at the other woman’s wrists. She smiles when the brunette releases a quiet groan.

Poor baby… Arizona placates. She watches Callie do the adult version of pouting and feels something happy flutter in her stomach.

Shut up.

Don’t get grumpy.

How do you not like it? It’s a classic.

Coming from the woman who doesn’t like The Breakfast Club!

Callie blows out a heavy breath. Jurassic Park and The Breakfast Club are nothing alike. One is visionary genius, and the other one is overrated.

Whatever. The blonde rolls her eyes, humored and irritated at the same time. All that matters now is one thing anyway.

And what is that?

Arizona smiles mischievously, leaning in toward her ex before whispering softly. That you know I like my eggs scrambled with cheese.

Don’t insult me. The brunette mutters. I know how you like your eggs.


It’s late in the night. So late it’s almost morning, but Arizona can’t seem to find sleep. She rolls over to lie on her left side. Then her right. Then onto her stomach. All the while trying not to stir a sleeping Sofia beside her. She realizes after an hour of tossing and turning that her mind is just not in the mood to rest. It keeps going over the day, and then the week, and then the past few months. She tries to focus her attention on normal things. Upcoming surgeries. Events at Sofia’s school. Hospital drama. But for some reason, her mind keeps settling on Callie and all the conversations they’ve had of late. That time the brunette had rang her at 3 o’clock in the morning to discuss her orgasm deficit.

She smiles at the ceiling, breathing out a long stream of air. She’s ridiculous Arizona thinks fondly before rolling her eyes at herself. God, she mumbles absently. Closing her eyes for a moment. Just let me sleep.

But she can’t. All she can seem to do is remember. Callie on the couch with Sofia. Callie eating breakfast. Callie licking syrup off her finger. Callie singing along to the radio. Callie getting the words wrong. Callie beneath her, pouting. Callie’s lips. Callie’s eyes.

Arizona feels a familiar ache well up in her stomach and in her chest. She throws an arm over her eyes.

Oh goodness she whispers.


Day 101.

So when are you gonna tell Maggie?

Tell Maggie what?

Callie narrows her eyes a bit at the other woman’s avoidance. The surgeons’ lounge is pretty empty for it to be the afternoon, so the two had found each other’s company comfortably quiet. Callie had decided to stop by and chat after spending the morning with Arizona. She needed a breather. Not that the blonde was suffocating in anyway. It just was starting to feel weirdly familiar. Eating break fast together. Talking casually. Smiling at each other over the table. Last night, she’d forgotten to call Penny. It had just sort of slipped her mind until the next morning. She’d tried to call the redhead as soon as she remembered to, apology heavy in her throat. Penny had forgiven her easily; she’d waved it off with a ‘it’s okay. I understand’, but Callie was unable to ignore the tinge of uncertainty in the other woman’s voice. She’d felt a tiny bit of guilt grow in the pit of her stomach. She had come to Grey Sloan to take her mind off that. It wasn’t a big deal, but she was hoping for a pick me-up in the form of hospital gossip. But to her misfortune though, the only one that seemed to be free was Meredith who stood, her back turned to Callie, as she pretended to be deeply invested in making a cup of coffee.

You need to tell her you’re dating Riggs.

We’re not dating.

Callie purses her lips at the technicality. Well then, you need to tell her you’re screwing Riggs.

Meredith stiffens for a moment before continuing in her ministrations. Why do I need to tell her? She has a crush. It’ll go away…Besides, Riggs and I aren’t serious.

Serious or not…Keeping a secret like that from her when you know she likes him is kind of wrong.

Meredith scoffs a little, but doesn’t pose a counter-argument, instead choosing to change the subject completely. So how are things going with you and Arizona?

Callie rolls her eyes at the obvious diversion but goes along with it anyway. Things are fine. Nice….we have a lot of fun together. She smiles, but then immediately feels guilty as the thought of Penny all the way in New York alone comes to mind.

I’m glad you two are having so much fun. Meredith comments before adding nonchalantly. You seem closer than ever.

Callie scrunches up her nose a bit. What are you trying to say…?

Nothing. Just that you two are close .Meredith furrows her brow at her friend’s sudden defensiveness.

Is it weird that Arizona and I like to spend time together? Callie scoffs indignantly.

Um, not intrinsically no… Meredith mutters awkwardly as her cup finally begins filling with coffee. I mean, you do have a girlfriend, so I guess that’s a little…odd.

How? I’m not allowed to have a girlfriend and be friends with my ex?

No, but…okay if Derek were alive and we were together, I wouldn’t talk to Riggs on the phone everyday…or have sleepovers at his house. It’s none of my business though so—

Callie waves the other woman off. Arizona and I are friends. We’re allowed to be friends, and we share a child. I don’t think it’s that big of a deal that I sleep on her couch when I come to visit.

Alright then. I guess that’s settled. Meredith finally turns around to face the other woman, coffee in hand. She can see that Callie is obviously having some sort of internal battle with herself, but she assumes the woman will talk to her about it when the time comes. So for now, she lets it go. Suddenly the door swings open and Alex comes trudging in looking more perturbed than usual. His gaze immediately falls on Callie, who’s sitting leg crossed on the couch. He grunts a little bit before sitting heavily beside her.

Had a rough day, Karev? Callie inquires to which the man irritatedly mutters.

Didn’t you get fired or something? Why are you here?

I quit. And I’m visiting.

This is the Surgeon’s Lounge. No squatters allowed.

Callie rolls her eyes, glancing up at Meredith who shrugs her shoulders. He just got off of a 6-hour surgery. She excuses. And technically, you’re not supposed to be in here. She adds the last part on casually, and Alex snorts amused.

Oh, by the way, Meredith turns her head toward the worn-looking man.  Jo is looking for you.

His eyes immediately fly open, and he sits up a little straighter. Why?

I don’t know.

You didn’t ask?

…Should I have?

Alex crosses his arms and tightens his jaw a bit. Well, she can keep looking for all I care.

Meredith rolls her eyes. Sure. But if you want to find her, the last time I saw her she was going for a nap in the on-call room by the cafeteria.

Alex shrugs like he doesn’t care. And both women, after realizing he was planning on keeping up the indifferent act, decide to carry on casual conversation. After a couple of minutes, Alex finally makes a loud grunt before muttering Can’t rest with all this freaking talking.

He gets up from his seat, glaring at both women before walking out of the room. Callie and Meredith only get a second to share knowing looks before the door opens again. This time it’s Bailey. Her gaze immediately falls on Callie, but unlike Karev’s, it quickly slides up to Meredith and settles.

Why is Torres in the Surgeon’s Lounge?

She’s a surgeon. Meredith answers innocently.

Hmph. Bailey purses her lips, finally resting her gaze on the tall brunette. Last time I checked Torres ditched this hospital and a more than generous paycheck to go chase a resident across the country, so excuse me if I’m a bit confused as to why she’s enjoying our employees-only sofa.

Callie smiles fondly for a second. She’d missed the other woman dearly. Even her scolding. Aw Bailey, I missed you too.

Bailey makes a face when the other woman rises from the couch and stretches out her arms for a hug.

Oh no, no, there will be no kumbaya-ing in here, Torres. You can go wait out in the lobby with the other non-employees.

Callie frowns. Really?

Bailey hmphs again, a tiny smile playing on her lips. Really. Goodbye.

Callie looks to Meredith who gives her a helpless sort of smile.

We can talk tonight. All the girls are meeting up at my house. You should come…And bring Arizona if you want. She adds on the last part kindly.


When Callie makes it back home, she finds Arizona and Sofia sitting on the couch, watching TV together. Sofia is excitedly explaining the Disney Channel show playing on the screen, and Arizona listening amusedly, a goofy smile stretching across her face as she watches her daughter gesticulate wildly. When Callie shuts the door behind her though, Arizona reroutes that goofy smile to the brunette, cooling it into pleasant surprise.

You’re back! She welcomes from across the room. We missed you.

Callie’s heart throbs at the declaration. I missed you both too.


Later that night, they all wind up in Meredith’s living room. Amelia, Maggie, Callie, Arizona, and of course, Meredith. Arizona had easily agreed to come when Callie asked her. The thought that Callie wanted her there made her oddly happy, but she tried to push it down or at least conceal it with indifference. They sat next to each other on the carpet. Callie with one leg propped up and the other outstretched. Arizona sat cross-legged, her arm touching Callie’s. She’d allowed herself the contact when the other woman hadn’t pulled away.

Owen is driving me nuts! Amelia groans. He follows me around. He dotes on me. He tries to monitor what I eat.

Oh, totally understand you, Callie interjects with an empathetic head nod. Arizona and Mark did the same thing when I was pregnant.

Arizona snorts into her wine. Oh yeah…we did do that.

Eh, Derek wasn’t really like that. Meredith comments. I was always the one worried about a miscarriage. He was just happy all the time.

If he tries to make me drink one more green, lumpy whatever-the-hell smoothie, I’m going to divorce him.

Good, then we’ll all be single. Maggie jokes, glancing between both of her sisters. Meredith looks slightly guilty for a second before she gulps down the rest of her drunk.

You know the worst thing about being pregnant? Callie changes the subject quickly.

Your feet hurt. Amelia says, rubbing the soles of her own.

Your back hurts. Meredith says.

Yes, both of those things. And sooo much more.  It’s like your entire body is in constant need of a rub-down

Oh god, Arizona makes a face thinking about it. When you were pregnant, I had to massage your feet every night.

You could have let Mark do it. Callie shrugs.

Arizona turns her head toward the other woman to stare disbelievingly. My hands would have fallen off before I let Mark do it.

Callie snorts, giving the other woman her glass and letting her refill it. You were so possessive. She comments.

I still don’t see how it was possessive not to want a guy rubbing against your girlfriend? I feel like that falls more under the ‘normal response’ category.

It wasn’t a guy. It was Mark.

Mark was the guy-iest of guys. Arizona refills the woman’s glass before returning it to her. Besides, she smiles briefly, you sometimes liked that about me.

Did I?


Callie pauses for a second in thought, and Arizona thinks she can pinpoint the exact moment the memory hits her. Her cheeks darken slightly, and the corners of her mouth curl up just a little. Oh… Brown eyes flick over to blue ones, and they both share a sort of knowing look.

Ahem Meredith clears her throat, reminding the women that other people are in the room. They look away from each other and to the array on confused faces.

Sorry, what were we talking about? Arizona breathes awkwardly.

Day 102.

Callie and Arizona decide to take Sofia, Zola, Bailey and Ellis to the park. Well, at first they had decided to take Sofia to the park and then, Sofia wanted Zola to come (and Meredith okay’ed it) and then Bailey had pouted and so the two mothers couldn’t very well leave him or his baby sister, so they’d simply offered to take all of the children.

When they arrive, the three older kids run off as soon as the car door unlocks while baby Ellis reaches her little arms up wanting to be lifted. Callie does the honors, holding the chubby cutie to her chest.

Aww she coos, nuzzling Ellis’s soft cheek with her nose. Arizona watches on, amused.

We could take her, you know. The blonde teases.


We could take all four and just skip town. No one would ever know.

Arizona pops her dimples and wiggles her eyebrows.

Callie laughs in return. Don’t play with me. I’m actually contemplating it. Look at them. She gestures toward their lot of kids, throwing sand at each other. Beautiful. She sighs.

Arizona watches the other woman, an old guilt welling in her chest. She tries to fight away the quiet thought of their old house filled to the brim with tiny Callie look-a-likes, (and maybe one or two that look like her.) She shakes her head. She was getting away with herself.


It’s later that day, and the kids are all tuckered out and sleeping in Arizona’s room. Callie is playing Spanish music aloud from her phone and making lunch. Arizona watches her on and off from the living room, every now and then glancing up from her medical journal to see the other woman swaying her hips and singing. She feels her heart throb with affection.