#tonight my kindness is an ‘early’ bedtime

[toastsnaffler]

roommate throwing me the curveball of "I get the feeling ur a physically affectionate person and its ok if u want to cuddle sometimes" then immediately hitting me with a SECOND curveball of "I also kind of like biting people. so if u ever want that too-"

[inkdrinkerworld]

I didn’t have the best relationship w my dad and I could totally see Remus healing r just by how kind and genuinely interested he is in their daughter. He loves talking to her, understanding her, getting excited with her on the things she gets excited about

Baby same same SAME

Your daughter bursts through your bedroom door, bolting straight for Remus who’s just finished dressing.

“Daddy, you wouldn’t believe what happened today.”

You roll your eyes, already aware of the whole ‘put down’ that happened in Kindergarten today.

Remus stops brushing his hair and sits on the floor- on a soft rug in the corner of your bedroom that was their designated ‘decompress’ space.

“What happened that I wouldn’t believe, calon bach?”

Your daughter vividly recounts the way one of the boys at school had decided that lunch time was the perfect time to try speaking to her- while she was eating her fairy cake no less and dipped his finger in her frosting.

“Daddy, I don’t know why he would even do that! And I scraped off all the frosting after even though that’s my favourite part because I’m not sure where his hands have been!”

Her dramatics- as Remus fondly refers to them- come from you, and it makes your heart stutter to see Remus remain so enraptured by her story.

Suddenly, tears spring to your eyes, even more so when he says, “How abouts tomorrow we pack an extra fairy cake and you can offer it to him?”

She frowns, a deep worried line in the middle of her forehead. “Do I have to? Because I really do love fairy cakes.”

You watch as Remus rubs her back, pulling her to his lap and deliberates her words.

You remember, without your consent, how conversations like these were usually exchanged with your mother, or your older brother if he was home from work but your dad never allowed any of it.

It would result in a flick of his wrist, a huffed ‘I’m busy can this wait?’ Or a simple yet very hurtful, ‘I don’t want to hear about your day, I just want quiet.’

Remus is never flippant or rude or anything that you had experienced when it comes to your little girl or even to yourself but it makes your heart grow an even stickier fondness for him.

“Okay maybe we can just start by telling him keep his hand to himself and if he wants an extra fairy cake you can offer it to him, yeah?”

Your daughter flops in Remus’ hold, head hanging off his thigh. “I guess.”

You chuckle wetly and Remus looks up at you- worry and then understanding passing across his face. He winks at you and you smile, wiping away your tears.

“Can we watch Klaus tonight? I fell asleep early after tea last night and I don’t think you and mama watched it without me.”

You both didn’t, having been far too exhausted to even blink for long after she had fallen asleep.

“No we didn’t look at it without you, sassy pants,” Remus pats her butt as they stand, “Go lay with mummy and I’ll bring up some snacks and water.”

Her eyes narrow as she climbs up the bed next to you. “Daddy you know I like the juice, the one mummy likes.”

Remus does know, he also knows it’s well past her bedtime already. But then you join the puppy dog eyes against Remus party and he’s putty.

“Fine but only a little.”

“I love you,” is repeated twice to him and he finds the words have never been truer even as he waters down some of the juice for your daughter and opts for her animal crackers that all of you love.

[umemiyan]

If you're taking requests could you write 103 & 156 with whoever you'd like?

tysm for the request!!! ❤️ it was so hard to choose lol but i eventually decided to go with satoru after this idea popped into my brain!

𝗦𝗔𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗨 𝗚𝗢𝗝𝗢 𝗫 𝗔𝗙𝗔𝗕!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥. ⌇ 18+ only, mdni / dubcon-ish (gojo assumes reader's consent) / subby!gojo / cockwarming / creampie / no pronouns for reader / ~900 words

prompts from this list:

103. “Move an inch and you won’t be coming tonight.” 156. “I want you so bad.”

When Satoru suggests an early bedtime for the two of you tonight, you’re properly suspicious that sleep is hardly the first thing on his mind. Your hunch is proven accurate the moment you slide beneath the covers and feel him press tightly against your body, long arms pulling you in so that he can slip his tongue into your mouth as though he’s been waiting the entire day for this moment to arrive. And, well… he has.

He feels at home against your body, skin soaking in the warmth of yours as he prods at your mouth deep and slow, drinking in every last bit of you. It’s the kind of kiss where he’s silently telling you ‘I’ve been needing you all day,’ and how could you not allow him to indulge? His desperation lights you on fire, sending waves of need throughout your nervous system.

After a few good minutes of limbs and tongues tangling together and losing your breath to one another, Satoru’s patience has started to wear thin. He puts you on your back and grinds his hips against you without shame, letting you feel the hard, weeping length trapped in his briefs. You moan quietly into his mouth, rolling your own hips up in return and clutching at the muscles in his back.

As somewhat expected from a man with a god complex, Satoru’s yanking down the waistband of his briefs until his cock springs free, pulling your panties to the side not a few seconds later to reveal your glistening folds to him. He taps his cock against them a couple of times before pushing greedily at your entrance with little to no thought.

“Hm… did I say you could fuck me?” you ask, voice finally piercing the silence.

“No,” he replies a bit breathlessly before slowly sliding himself all the way in, “but I know you want me to.”

You manage to stifle any sound of pleasure that dares to leave your throat as he stretches you out and stills himself. “Do you really?” Your hand reaches for the back of his neck where you pull him down until your lips can brush over his ear. In a threatening whisper, you warn and clench around him with a tight grip, “Move an inch and you won’t be cumming tonight.”

Satoru shudders and wriggles anyway, desperate to pump himself inside of your tight heat. “C’mon, gorgeous, please?” he pleads, cocky facade beginning to falter. “I want you so bad.” He kisses you again and dares to roll his hips once as if it’ll change your mind.

You pull back and tap his cheek a couple of times, forcing his lusty blue gaze to meet your own. “Nuh uh, what did I just say?”

He whines and presses his forehead to yours, deciding to submit despite his obvious physical advantage. He practically had your consent to start with–he almost always does–but it’s far too amusing to toy with him when he gets so needy like this.

You cup his face gently in your hand, satisfied with his lack of movement. “Much better.” You offer a smile, thumb brushing along his cheek as you watch him struggle to keep his desire at bay. “Deep breaths for me, baby.”

Satoru obeys and inhales through his nose, closing his eyes and attempting to suppress the primal urge to fuck you open until you give him permission to do so. He doesn’t want to leave the space he’s carved for himself inside you under any circumstances, so if you want to warm him there for the time being, he’ll accept no matter how difficult it may be.

He breathes and remains still until his arms begin to tremble, the minutes feeling like hours and dragging on until he can’t even remotely tell how long it’s been. You take notice of the way he shakes and whimpers, pulling him down until a great deal of his weight is now settled against your body.

“That’s it,” you say softly and encouragingly, stroking the back of his head with a gentle touch as he breathes against your neck. You’ve decided that he’s done well enough. “You can start moving now.”

Satoru gasps and nearly sobs. “Oh, fuck, thank you.”

You’ve worn him down so much that all he can do is rut his hips forward and pant against your skin, using the last bit of his strength to keep from completely crushing you beneath him. He’s felt your walls squeezing around his length long enough, so to finally be able to repeatedly slide himself against them in a pathetic rhythm is almost too much for him to handle. Satoru doesn’t have to grind himself into you for long until he’s cumming with a cry that’s muffled against your skin, spilling every drop of white hot fluid deep inside you where he claims it belongs.

He would be more embarrassed by his lack of stamina if it weren’t for the waves of pleasure wracking his body, making him lethargic yet oh so grateful. After catching his breath, he begins placing slow kisses of gratitude against your throat, lips, and collarbones, slowly dragging his way down the rest of your body until he can plainly see where he drips out of you.

“You didn’t cum,” he says matter-of-factly, cheeks pink and eyes hooded with a fucked out gaze. Satoru pulls your panties completely off this time and settles himself between your thighs, paying no mind to his exhaustion. “Gonna fix that.”

[unattainablesillygoose]

I have a headcanon that Nancy eventually became fluent in ASL because Ace taught her (so she could communicate with Thom without having to have a translator), and after they're married and have kids, they use it to talk secretly. Like, their kids know some, but when they're young, they just know the basics. So, kind of like how a parent would spell something out to the other parent if the kid can't spell, Nancy and Ace sign to each other.

Nancy and Ace: *signing about putting them down for bed early because it's a holiday or special occasion, and they need to set up a surprise*

Kid: Stop it. I know you're talking about bedtime.

They'll do it in public, too. Why would Nancy shout across the aisle in a grocery store when she can just tell him to grab something while he gets the milk?

Nancy: *while you're over there, we need cheese.*

Ace: 👍

Or they'll be somewhere, like one of those parent-teacher things, but with activities and bingo? (My school used to do it, I think once a year, and I have no idea what it was called.) And they go because their kid/kids have a lot of friends, so it's another way for them to hang out. But Nancy and Ace don't necessarily like the other parents.

Nancy, fake laughing at something: *I'm so close to pretending kid is sick or something so we can leave.*

Ace, politely nodding along: *if this thing goes on any longer, I might help you.

The kids who are a little ways away: what are your parents doing?

Kid, who knows damn well what they're saying: idk, probably talking smack or something

I also like to think that sometimes Thom and Rebecca go to these school events, and Rebecca finds it hilarious that kid will mess with their friends about what Nancy and Ace are talking about, but Thom is just exasperated, because of course their kid would be as much trouble as they were.

Nancy, signing to Ace who's across the room: *did you remember to close that window we had open?*

Ace: *what, the one in the kitchen or the one upstairs?*

Kids friend: what are they saying?

Kid: they're debating whether to do their monthly sacrifice tonight or tomorrow.

Kids friend, who fully believes their Aunty Bess is a witch: haha *nervously sweats*

Thom: *Rebecca, they're doing it again.*

Rebecca: *cackling*

Nancy and/or Ace probably communicate with Nick like this around the holidays, too. I think it drives George crazy. (Bc damn right they find a way back together.)

Nick and Ace: *signing to each other*

Nick and George's kid: mommy, what are they talking about?

George, miffed: I don't freaking know.

Idk i just think this is a funny little hc about what their lives would be like.

[saphscorner]

there's no context for this i've really just been brainrotting and dying to write them again

word count: 724 pairing(s): martyn/mumbo warnings: none general tags & vibes: established relationship, fluff, domestic

Slowly but surely, winter was giving way to spring. It was the first comparatively warm morning of the year, with sunlight streaming into the backyard where Mumbo was stringing laundry onto a clothesline. He had to admit, he liked being able to feel the sun on his skin after the long months of a gray and windy winter. 

Mumbo turned at the sound of the fence gate squeaking open, finishing clipping up the bedsheet so he had a free hand to wave. “Welcome back,” he greeted. 

The gate squeaked back shut, and Martyn was promptly making his way across the yard. “It’s so nice out,” he commented idly, before leaning up to give Mumbo a chaste kiss. 

Mumbo hummed in agreement, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips. “It is,” he agreed. “You sure took advantage of it, was I still asleep when you left this morning?” 

“I actually don’t know,” Martyn said with a bit of a laugh. “I leaned in to give you a kiss goodbye and you mumbled something entirely incoherent before you just fell right back asleep.” 

“Did I?” Mumbo laughed. “Sorry, I probably meant to say goodbye.” He strung another towel up onto the clothesline.

“It was really early,” Martyn reasoned. “Pretty much with the sun, but I’ve got a whole haul of firewood around front so I’d say it was worth it.” 

“Are you gonna fall asleep early on me tonight then?” 

“Oh definitely. Five o’clock dinner and nine o’clock bedtime.” 

Mumbo sighed. “We’re getting so old,” he teased.

Martyn laughed at that and waved him off. “Don’t say that like we haven’t still got a lifetime to spend together!” He reached down, shaking another damp piece of laundry out – one of Mumbo’s shirts, he noticed – and clipped it up alongside the laundry Mumbo had already strung up. 

Mumbo couldn’t help but smile. His gaze lingered on Martyn, watching the sun catch the gold of his wedding band as his hands dipped back into the laundry basket to continue the work. 

“You don’t have to help,” Mumbo offered. “You’ve been out all morning, do you not want to get off your feet?” 

Martyn hummed. “I prefer the company. And this way, we can get the work done twice as fast. Coffee when we’re done?” 

“Sounds lovely.” 

They were nearing the end of the basket, with Mumbo continuing to work his way down the line stringing up their laundry. The quiet between them was comfortable, natural and familiar in some way. 

Though eventually, Martyn spoke up. 

“Will you call me crazy if I tell you something?” 

Mumbo glanced over at him and blinked. “Depends if it makes you sound crazy.” 

“Fair enough,” Martyn said with a smile. 

“Now I feel like you have to tell me,” said Mumbo. “You’ve got me curious, mate.” 

“I’m kind of just… thinking,” Martyn said with a vague gesture. “Maybe it will make me sound crazy, but some days I feel like I knew you in a past life, kind of like I’ve loved you even more than a lifetime. Except that sounds pretty cheesy.” 

Mumbo hummed. “That’s not totally crazy. Okay, a little, maybe, but is that not normally how people feel about the person they’re in love with?” 

“I don’t know,” Martyn admitted. 

“I always thought so,” said Mumbo. “Like, even the mundane makes you feel more whole and complete when it’s with someone you love?”

“Yeah, but it’s almost more than that too. Deeper…like it completes me in a more… existential way.” Martyn shook his head. “Am I losing you a little here?” 

“Not exactly,” said Mumbo. He shook out the last bit of laundry, stringing the pillowcase up alongside the others before tucking the laundry basket under one arm. “I guess I just don’t contemplate my multi-lifetime existence as much as you do. But you’re still making sense to me.” 

Martyn smiled a bit. Wordlessly, he leaned in to press a kiss to Mumbo’s lips, though was surprised when Mumbo followed it up with another.

“I love you.” 

“I love you too.” 

Martyn kissed him one more time, before nodding to the back door. “Break time? I’ll make coffee.” 

“Break time,” Mumbo agreed. They crossed the lawn, headed back for the door, when Mumbo paused by the doorway. 

“For what it’s worth,” he said, “I think you’re right.”

[daddy-dins-girl]

Kindred - Chapter Two

Main Masterlist Series Masterlist

AO3 link

Chapter 1 || Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Chapter Summary: Max repays the favor ;)

Maxwell Lord x f!Reader (Nanny)

Word Count: 7k

Notes: Doing my best here with early 80's references but this story takes place before I was born so... take it easy on me.

Chapter Warnings: 18+ MDNI. Smut (so much smut). Dry humping, vaginal fingering, oral sex (f receiving), masturbation (mentioned), explicit language.

Tagging my Maxwell baby mutuals who inspired this part 2! @boliv-jenta @suzdin @heavennumber2 @prolix-yuy

By the time Friday had finally rolled around you were exhausted. It had been a long week of juggling all 3 of your jobs at once with the impromptu addition of Nannying for Alistair this week, but you wouldn’t complain. The extra money you’d make at the Lord’s this week (and likely next week you presumed, as you had yet to hear anything about Alistair’s mother returning any time soon to take him back as per the usual schedule) would provide a nice cushion for your savings account which you liked to keep for the times when either of your other two jobs would slow down. You would get Alistair to school in the mornings then make deliveries or do your haircuts during the day, then rush off to pick up Alistair, bring him home, entertain him for a couple hours, make dinner, clean up after yourselves and then make sure he was bathed and put to bed at a decent time. Max always tried to get home in time for bedtime for Alistair but it hadn’t happened at all this week so you’d done it each night. Not that you minded. Alistair was, in terms of children you’ve cared for, one of the easiest you’d ever dealt with when it came to bed time. He liked a snuggle in the rocking chair by his bed while you read him a story, then you tucked him in, flipped off the light and left the room, letting him fall asleep on his own. Max always made sure to call though when he knew for certain he wouldn’t make it in time. He would talk to Alistair on the phone, ask him about his day, and on nights when he had a few free minutes of time he would make up his own story to tell to Alistair in lieu of actually being home to read him one from his bookshelf.

That’s where you found yourselves now; you were wiping down the kitchen counters while Alistair sat at the table, phone cord twisting around his fingers as he happily babbled on to his father about the day he had. A smile tugged at your lips as you overhear Alistair tell his Dad about the goal he’d scored in soccer today in gym class, the same story you’d heard from him three times already tonight when he’d forget that he already told you. You gave the same excited reaction each time regardless, letting him have his victory he was so proud of.

“Okay, one second” You hear Alistair say into the phone a couple minutes later and look over to see him holding the phone out in your direction. “Daddy wants to talk to you Nana” he tells you, using the nickname you’d accidentally adopted from the boy when he’d called you it the first time you met. Max had explained to him that you’d be his Nanny and Alistair had gotten confused, thinking it was your name and shouted “Nana!” excitedly the first time he saw you. You and Max had laughed so hard at it that Alistair found it hilarious (even if he didn’t know why you were laughing) and so he’d just continued to call you it. You didn’t mind. At first you were a little weary that it made it sound like you were some kind of grandmother to him but you were also far too young for anyone with half a brain to believe you were old enough to be a grandparent so it didn’t bother you. You’d get the occasional odd look tossed your way when he’d call you it out in public or around the school pick-up, but you didn’t even notice it anymore.

Your brow furrows slightly when Alistair holds the receiver out towards you but you head over and take the phone anyway. Typically they chat to each other and just hang up but maybe there was something important Max needed to tell you.

You had barely spoken to him, you realize, since your (incredible, in your mind at least) night together at the beginning of the week. He was always off to work so early in the morning and though you did see him in the mornings, Alistair was typically in the same room as at least one of you at all times, either getting his breakfast or just spending the precious few minutes he had with his dad before both of their days started. So on those busy mornings you hadn’t exactly talked about how you’d tied your employer to the same kitchen chair where Alistair was eating his Cheerios and gave him a life-altering blow job that you haven’t been able to stop thinking about. Not quite a family breakfast table conversation with a 6 year old in the room. And in the evenings you’d actually been asleep by the time he had gotten home each night. Usually you’d try and wait up but with all the extra work you’d been pulling this week you just couldn’t keep your eyes open long enough to see him. You hoped he didn’t think you were avoiding him because you absolutely weren’t. The truth is you were actually glad Alistair was always around in the mornings because if he wasn’t you doubted you’d be able to control yourself long enough for Max to get out of the house in the morning.

That night - the night - after you had parted ways from Max from the kitchen you had gone down the hallway to your bedroom and gotten yourself off so hard that you had to wash the sheets the next day and he’s all you thought about since.

“Hello?” You say into the phone once you’ve taken it from Alistair.

“Tell Alistair to go watch TV” Max tells you promptly and your cheeks heat up immediately. Clearly whatever this is, he intended for it to be a private conversation away from young ears.

“Hey buddy, go find a show for us to watch OK? I have to talk to your Dad for a minute then I’ll be right there” you tell the boy before ruffling his hair affectionately.

“Ok” Alistair shrugs and hops off the chair, running down the hall towards the living room.

“Hi” you try again, hoping he can hear the smile in your voice.

“Hi Angel” Max greets you warmly and you swear your stomach flutters.

“Listen, I know I’ve been home late all week and I’ve missed Alistair’s bedtimes,” he begins and you frown. It’s not exactly why you thought he wanted to talk to you with Alistair out of the room…

“Oh.. Um, it’s ok, I really don’t mind doing it” you tell him with a shake of your head.

“I know, but still. I should be there. I want to be there. Anyways, I really want to try and see him tonight. Will you try and keep him up a little late for me? I’ll try not to be too late, but it will be a little past his usual bedtime I’m sure”

“Yeah, of course” you agree easily. “No school tomorrow so he’ll probably be jazzed about getting to stay up late anyway” you shrug, knowing it’s true. Alistair was constantly asking to stay up late but you’d always stuck to a pretty regular schedule to keep his routine on track so he wasn’t too affected whether he was at his mom’s or his dad’s house.

“Good, good” You hear Max sigh with relief. “I really want to spend some time with him”

“Of course Mr. Lord”

“And um, Angel?” He begins again and the familiar warmth comes flooding back at the change in his tone.

“Yes?”

“I’d really love to spend some time with you, too, if you could wait up for me after I get Alistair to bed”

“Oh,” you breathe, surprised. “Um,” you don’t mean to hesitate, but the tingling sensation that runs through your veins when his deep honeyed voice comes through the phone throws you off guard and all you can do is bite down on your lower lip in anticipation, forgetting momentarily that he can’t actually see through the phone how his words are affecting you.

“Only - Only if you want to. I mean, we don’t-” Max starts rambling and you quickly gather your wits to cut him off.

“No! I mean, I do, want to. Of course I want to, Mr. Lord” You make sure to say his name teasingly this time, unlike moments ago when you were talking to 'your boss', and you hear him chuckle into the phone.

“Well good. I’m… looking forward to it then, Angel”

“Me too” you whisper into the phone, smiling as you wrap the phone cord around your fingers.

“See you in a few hours” he promises before the line clicks signaling that he’s hung up. You sigh dreamily and hang up the phone before wandering off to find Alistair; a stupid smile playing on your lips the rest of the night.

…

It’s 10pm and you’re doing your best to keep Alistair awake an hour now past his usual bedtime. You were playing a board game for a while because you thought it would be a better way to keep him awake then a movie or tv show but after it was done he’d asked if you could watch something instead so you agreed and now you sat on the couch with Alistair's feet in your lap. You would give his feet a little tickle each time you noticed him starting to nod off and he’d break out into a fit of giggles that seemed to keep him awake for a few more minutes each time but you weren’t sure how much longer it would be a successful tactic. Thankfully you don’t have to wonder though because you hear the click of the lock at the front door and Max calling out announcing his arrival and Alistair jumps off the couch as if he hadn’t just been nearly drooling on the arm of it five seconds ago.

“Daddy!” he shrieks in excitement, running down the hallway as fast as his two little legs could carry him and nearly knocking his father over when he barrels into him with his arms spanned outwards.

“Ooof! Hey buddy” Max groans when he catches him. “Look who’s awake” he grins at his son.

“Yeah, Nana let me watch Knight Rider” Alistair explains enthusiastically.

“Oh she did, did she?” Max brings his gaze up to find yours as you too came out to the hallway and he raises an eyebrow at you. It wasn’t exactly a show meant for 6 year olds but in your defense it was 10pm on a Friday night, there weren't exactly any kid-friendly shows on TV.

“Hey, you wanted him to stay awake, David Hasselhoff provided” you shrugged and Max huffed a laugh. You knew he wasn’t actually upset. You’d never let Alistair watch anything really inappropriate and Max knew that.

“Yeah the car is SO COOL Dad!” Alistair carries on. “You should get one I think”

“Oh you think so, do you?” Max teases, hauling his son up to sit on his hip so he can place a kiss to his forehead.

“Daddy gets me whatever I want” Alistair turns his head towards you to explain and you laugh.

“Well then you are a very lucky boy, mister. I think KIIT might be on contract to the TV network for at least a few more seasons though so you might have to wait on that one” you joke and Alistair only shrugs in his father’s arms.

“That’s ok, I can wait. I can’t even drive yet” He explains and both you and Max let out a hearty laugh at that.

It’s sweet how much Max is endeared by his son. Though Max may be on the verge of being successful, he’s certainly not a wealthy man but to Alistair he might as well be royalty. The way Max carries himself and speaks of himself alludes to wealth well beyond his actual means, but that is part of what makes him a great businessman and what pulls in his investors, you presume. Though Alistair leads a humbled life, he’d never know it the way his father treats and spoils him. He’s always clothed and fed, but their home and lifestyle is modest at best. In the 6 year old’s eyes however he wants for nothing and he latches on to the way Max projects not only himself but his family. Max has an image to uphold and it’s important and although he does provide for his family, you know it’s not as much as he’d like to be able to, and that’s why he works as hard as he does. You’d had an honest and upfront financial conversation when you’d first been hired and Max had been apologetic that he couldn’t offer you a higher salary. He knew it wasn’t enough but it was what he could afford and you assured him you were fine with it. Living at his house for half the month helped you out a lot, financially. Your utility bills were essentially cut in half, same for your groceries, though you did still have to pay your full rent each month obviously, despite only living there half the time. But you’d be paying it regardless, so having a paycheck from Max and all the money you saved on essentially living “for free” for half the month each month was more than enough for what you needed to live your life the way you wanted to.

You didn’t know much of Max’s past or upbringing but he did share some of it with you one night a month or so ago when you’d both been relaxing on the back deck with a bottle of wine long after Alistair had gone to bed. You hadn’t meant to dig deep into your past and spill half of your life story to him, but you did. When he was at home and relaxed like this and not having to put on the act he always did out in the world or when television cameras were rolling on him, he was so easy to talk to and you felt so comfortable. So you’d shared (or maybe overshared, though he didn’t seem to mind) and soon, he shared also. It wasn’t much, but he did tell you of his very humbled beginnings, how he’d gone to school in tattered clothes and holes in his shoes. How he was treated by his peers at school and when you reached out to place a hand on his arm in comfort he quickly shook his head and told you that it was ok, it pushed him to be where he was today and motivated him to give his own son the things he never had. You’d quickly brushed away a tear that had slid down your cheek as he confessed parts of his past to you, hoping he didn’t see it, you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. You tried to pry even further and asked him about his parents but he just cleared his throat and pretended to look at his watch, commenting on how late it was and that you should both probably get some sleep. You never pushed the subject again.

“Ok buddy why don’t you go get your PJ’s on and pick a story and I’ll be right in OK?” Max says suddenly, breaking you out of your thoughts as he gently places Alistair back on the floor. The boy rubs his tired eyes and nods before turning on his heel to head up the stairs to get ready for bed.

Max leans on the bannister, watching Alistair go until he’s out of eyesight before turning his attention back to you and taking the few strides forward until he reaches you.

“Thank you, for keeping him up. It’s been a crazy week, I feel like I haven’t seen him at all” Max sighs and your shoulders fall. You feel for him. Max is always working like crazy and you can’t imagine how hard it is for him to already only have 50% custody but then still barely get to spend any time with him even when it is his time.

“Happy to do it” You smile. “He missed you this week. We um…” You pause, looking down and feeling suddenly shy. You reach out to tug gently at the bottom of Max’s tie hanging loosely around his neck, feeling the fine fabric between your fingers and memories from the last time you touched his tie flooding your thoughts. “We both missed you” you shrug, finally bringing your gaze back up to meet his, a smile playing on your lips. Max’s eyes close and he lets a deep breath out through his nose before opening his eyes again to look at you.

“Good, just… hold that thought, OK?” He asks, bringing his hand up to cover yours on his tie, his thumb rubbing absently across the backs of your knuckles.

You nod and Max brings your hand up to place a kiss to the back of it, giving you a quick wink before he drops your hand and takes off up the stairs calling after his son, reminding him to brush his teeth.

Time seems to be running backwards while you wait for Max. Or maybe you’re just terribly impatient. You look at the clock on your bedside table again and it’s nearly 11:00. Alistair usually doesn’t take more than 15 minutes to put down and it’s been nearly 45. You’ve been staring at the same page in your book for at least 10 minutes. Constantly losing your place or forgetting what you’d just read all together as you keep glancing back over to the clock. You’re still exhausted, too. Today has probably been the busiest of the whole week and the anticipation of spending time with Max is the only thing keeping your eyes open. You wonder what’s taking him so long and try to push back the negative thoughts in your head that are wondering if he’s changed his mind entirely and not seeking you out tonight. Maybe he’s had a change of heart or doesn’t want to complicate things. You couldn’t even blame him for it, though you hoped it wasn’t the case.

The thoughts don’t have a chance to plague you any further though as you hear a soft knock at your bedroom door and you quickly flip over onto your back, holding yourself up on your elbows as you call out for him to come in.

“Hi” Max sighs with relief when he enters your bedroom. He closes the door behind him then turns back towards you and runs his hands through his hair. You notice then that his hair is wet and he’s not dressed in his typical dress suit and tie that he’d been in when he got home. Instead he’s wearing a pair of black pajama pants and a plain white t-shirt. You’d always thought Mr. Lord looked incredible in his suits but this look was positively delicious, you decide.

“You showered” You mention because you suddenly feel like your whole mouth has gone dry and you have no grasp on how to speak in more than 2 word sentences when this man is standing in front of you looking the way he does. It should be criminal.

“Oh, uh, yeah” Max looks away, almost like he’s embarrassed but you’re not sure why he would be. He’d been working for nearly 14 hours, of course he’d want a shower when he got home, you rationalize. You of course were oblivious to the fact that he had actually showered because he wanted to fuck his fist before coming to see you so the night wouldn’t be over before he really had a chance to begin it. He’d been in absolute agony all week thinking about you. Your hands on him, your mouth, the way you spoke to and treated him. He’d even jerked off in his private bathroom at work this week - something he’d never done before - when it got to the point where he couldn’t even concentrate on his work because he couldn’t get you out of his head.

“Alistair’s asleep?” You ask, getting up on your knees now on the bed and shuffling over to the side edge.

Max simply nods before taking quick strides to meet you over at your bed, his large hands instantly coming to your waist to roam up and down your sides as he stands in front of you, his eyes watching the movement of when the hem of your tank top rides up slightly to reveal some skin.

“Angel you’re so beautiful” he sighs and though you wouldn’t exactly agree, you believe he means his words.

“Max, I’m literally wearing a tank top and sleep shorts” you giggle. You didn’t exactly have any sexy lingerie over at your babysitting gig so you’d just changed into your regular sleep clothes when Max had gone to put Alistair down.

“And still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen” Max confesses before he presses forward and captures your lips in a searing kiss. He wastes no time running his tongue along your bottom lip and you open up to him gladly, moaning into his mouth when his tongue strokes against yours. He tastes like mint toothpaste and heaven. Your hands go up to push through his wet hair, pulling him even closer to you.

“Mmm, fucking missed you” Max groans into your mouth as his grip on your waist tightens. “Tell me you missed me” he breathes heavily before capturing your mouth again and swallowing your moan that follows.

“I missed you Maxi. Haven’t stopped thinking about you” you admit.

“Oh, fuck, me too Sweetheart” Max groans, his mouth leaving yours to trail down your throat instead. He licks, nips and sucks all the way down the side of your throat until he reaches your collarbone and then ascends back up to meet your mouth again for more hungry kisses. His tongue explores your mouth, the wet muscle fighting for dominance against yours as his hands slowly push up, up, up your sides and under your tank until they’re at the bottom of your breasts and he deftly reaches his thumbs up to brush across each of your nipples. His hands seem enormous on your body and they’re driving you mad.

“Maxxx” you whine when you feel your nipples pebble under his ghosting touch. You want more of him. Need more of him. Without bothering to ask, you push off of him for a brief second just long enough to hastily tug your tank top up and over your head, throwing the offending garment off to some corner of the room before you pull him into your body again and your mouths meet once more. You’re very glad at that moment that you had decided to forego a bra tonight.

“Needy girl” Max groans into your mouth, his hands now greedily grabbing and kneading into your breasts. Your back arches so you push further into his touch and you can’t help the whine that escapes you.

“Please Max” you whimper. You’re not even sure what you’re asking him for. You just know you need more.

“Angel, Max is here now darling” Max soothes, pulling his mouth away so he can study your face instead. Your eyes are half closed, mouth open, you know you must look positively wrecked already and it’s because you are.

“Let me take care of you” he whispers before he leans in and presses a quick kiss to your lips. You try to deepen it but he pulls away too quickly. You don’t have time to complain however because as quick as he leaves your lips he lowers his head and puts his mouth on your left breast, his hand pushing it further into his mouth as he alternates between suckling on and flicking his tongue over the pert bud.

“Oh Max, baby, that feels so nice” you praise him by running your hand through his hair as you look down and watch him mouth at your breast, humming his satisfaction into it while his other hand pays the right side equal attention, massaging it in his palm and pinching the nipple between his thumb and index finger. Your head is rolling back as his warm mouth continues its assault and there’s a slow burn beginning to build deep in your core as he takes his time with you.

He continues sloppily kissing, nibbling and lathing his tongue over your breasts for what you could swear is hours but in reality is more likely only minutes. He’s switching occasionally between the two sides, his hand and fingers always making up for the attention the one is not getting from his mouth. Your head feels like you might as well be on another planet. You can’t concentrate on anything but Max’s hands and mouth on you, driving you absolutely insane. Heat continues to coil in the lower parts of your belly as he keeps showering you with attention and all you can do is whimper and continue tugging on his hair while pushing your breasts into his face. He hasn’t even touched you beneath your waist yet and you’re not sure how you’ll survive that, if this is how he’s making you feel already. You can’t remember the last time someone had focused so much attention on you without seeking out their own pleasure at the same time but you get the feeling by the way Max is constantly moaning and babbling adorations into your breasts that this is giving him nearly as much pleasure as it’s giving you.

Your panties are uncomfortably wet, you can feel them already, and as if on queue, Max seems to read your mind as he suddenly shifts his position and lifts his left leg a bit so he can place his knee on the edge of your bed. His hands let go of your breasts and he brings them to your legs and yanks you forward you so that your legs straddle his thigh and you let out a guttural moan when your aching center rubs against the firm muscle of his thigh.

“That’s it baby” Max coos, his mouth releasing your breast to place wet kisses to the mounds instead. “Take what you need, I’ve got you” he promises before placing his hands on your ass and pressing you harder into him, helping you rock back and forth and create the friction he knows you're begging for.

You're moaning freely now, not caring how desperate you sound. It’s everything but still not enough. Without giving it a second thought you reach down to tug your shorts down, needing to get them off as quickly as possible. Max reaches down too, helping you as you awkwardly try to get them all the way down and off your legs to kick them free. It takes a few seconds, not easy given your kneeling position, but you manage and then gasp as Max pulls you hard back into position and you start grinding against him again with renewed vigor.

“Oh Max, oh fuck”

Max’s attention goes back to your throat again. He’s kissing and sucking all over and pulling sounds from you that you can only pray won’t wake the sleeping 6 year old upstairs.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck” you’re chanting now. You’re so close and it feels so good that you’re not even the slightest bit embarrassed about how you’re getting yourself off like some kind of rabid dog, grinding up and down on Max’s leg. You can hear the wet squelch of your desire that’s soaked the inside of your panties and you know you’ve not only ruined them, but surely Max’s pants as well.

“Come on baby,” Max encourages, his hands back on your ass as he helps speed up your rhythm and push you harder against him. He starts jutting his own hips forward so that his leg rocks into you, meeting your thrusts and your head lolls backwards. Max takes full advantage of that, finding a particular spot in the hollow of your throat and running his teeth along it before sucking you hard into his mouth. He knows it will leave a mark and he absolutely does not care.

“Oh my God, Max, yes, yes” You cry out as your orgasm hits you like a freight train. You feel like a fucking teenager - not that you’re complaining - getting off from dry humping and hickeys, but Max does something to you that you haven’t felt in years. If ever, even.

Hell, the man just made you cum without even taking your underwear off.

“Holy shit” you breathe as the rocking of your hips slows dramatically and Max continues to moan into and suckle on your neck, but with a restrained intensity now as he feels you come down from your high. His hands are still groping your ass, squeezing and kneading the flesh in his large hands as he moans into your throat. You rest your chin on top of his head and wrap your fingers around the back of it, hands petting over his hair as you float back down to earth.

“Angel you’re so good for me” Max hums into your neck before placing a few more kisses to it and pulling himself back to look at you. He brushes the hair out of your face and you manage a lazy smile.

“You’re not so bad yourself” you retort. It’s beyond cheesy but the grin Max gives you in return tells you he loves it.

“Lay down” he instructs before pressing a quick kiss to your lips. “I’m not done with you”

You quickly oblige him, moving to lay down on your back in the middle of the bed with your head resting on the pillows. Despite having just came, you’re already squirming, waiting for his hands to be on you again. You don’t have to wait long before he’s crawling onto the bed on his knees and swinging one leg over the other side of your hips so you’re between his legs. His strong hands come down to rest at your waist before beginning to play the waistband of your panties and then he lifts one edge of the elastic right by your hip bone, stretching it and then letting go so it snaps back against your skin and you whimper in anticipation.

“Take these off” he orders and you don’t need to be told twice, quickly pushing them down and shimmying out of them.

“So beautiful” Max murmurs, looking down at your naked core and running the back of his hand over you so his knuckles brush against your hip and then down to the top of your thigh.

“Maxxxx” you whine, needy for his touch. He’s so close, and yet still hasn’t touched you where you’ve been dying to feel him all week.

“Fuck, Sweetheart” Max moans before he lets out a growl and lowers himself down to kiss you hard. It’s all teeth and tongue and desperation and you love it, grasping onto his shoulders to keep him close.

“Baby,” Max breathes between urgent kisses. “Angel, I…” he cuts himself off again, not able to pull away from your mouth long enough to form a complete sentence it seems. “If you don’t want… If you want me to stop you have to…” he trails off, the thought unfinished as you pull him back into another heated kiss. You know what he was getting at. If you don’t want to go any further tonight you need to tell him to stop now or pretty soon he won’t be able to.

You kiss him a few more times before finally pulling back and taking his face into your hands to ensure he hears you.

“If you don’t touch me soon Maxwell Lord, I’m fucking quitting” you tell him. You’re of course kidding about the quitting part and the grin that crosses his lips tells you he knows, but you do need him to touch before you actually lose your mind.

The moment the words leave your lips Maxwell’s hand is cupping your sex and you arch your whole body into his touch, moaning into his mouth when you recapture his lips.

“Mmmm, Sweetheart” Max hums in delight when his digits slide through your soaked folds. “So fucking wet for me”

“All for you baby” you breathe against his lips, hips chasing into his touch.

Max slides his fingers delicately through your folds, bringing the tip of his middle finger that’s slick with your desire up to swirl around your clit a few times and you gasp into his mouth.

“Max!”

“Shh, shh, shhh” Max soothes, peppering kisses to the side of your face now as his fingers slide back down and begin to nudge at your entrance instead. You widen your legs instinctively, pushing his knees apart and giving him more access and you feel him huff a little laugh against your cheek.

“You really are my Angel, aren’t you”

“Yes” you whine, your hands coming up to grab at the hem of his t-shirt and you begin pulling, suddenly needing to feel more of him, his body against yours.

Max quickly gets the hint and his hand unfortunately leaves your aching core momentarily while he sits up and tugs the t-shirt off his head and tosses it to the end of the bed before his large frame comes back down on top of you. He slides one leg between yours and nudges your left leg further out and then brings his other leg over as well so you’re spread out on either side of him, impatiently squirming with him between your legs.

“Do you know what I’ve been thinking about all week, my dear?” he asks, his breath fanning against your ear and you shake your head.

“I want to know what you taste like” he whispers and you moan, your arms coming up to wrap around his naked back.

“Tell me baby” you whisper against his lips before capturing his bottom one between your teeth gently before letting go. “Tell me what you’ve thought about”

Max groans and shoves his tongue inside your mouth to kiss you greedily for a few moments before pulling back and resting his forehead against yours. “Angel I want to fuck you with my tongue, my mouth” Max confesses and you whimper. “Want to make you feel so good like you did for me. Baby do you know how many times I had to fuck my hand this week because I couldn’t stop thinking about you?”

“Really?” it comes out breathy and you're arching your hips off the bed to grind into Max’s lower half, feeling his hardness under the confines of his clothes. “I had to wash my sheets twice this week” you confess your own discretions and Max practically growls in response and it sends a surge of heat straight to your core.

“Fuck” Max groans, not able to help but rut his hips into yours. “My needy girl, gonna make you feel so good”

“Yes, Maxi” you moan, your hips coming off the bed again to thrust against his. “Want your mouth on me baby, please” you beg him and he groans.

“Fuck” he curses once more before placing hot open-mouthed kisses down your throat, the top of your chest as he inches his body down further and further, his mouth following his decent until he’s hovering just above where you need him most. Your hips thrust up into the air but you can’t reach anything and you let out a whine.

Max is just staring at your glistening pussy and were you not completely fucked out you might be embarrassed but you are so you do nothing but moan and writhe beneath his stare, begging without words for him to do something.

He does. Oh boy, he does. Two fingers suddenly plunge inside of you just as his mouth latches on to your clit and you practically scream out in pleasure at the simultaneous intrusions.

“Oh Max, oh fuck, yeah, yeah” you’re writhing beneath him, your hands coming down to grab fistfuls of his hair as you secure his face into your cunt and he moans against you, sending another wave of pleasure coursing through your veins.

“Just like that baby, right there” you encourage, your hips rutting against his face unabashedly. His fingers continue to plunge in and out of you, fingertips curling just right as they hit as deep as they can go and his mouth is alternating its attention between licking through your folds and tonguing frantically at your clit and god help you, but you’re coming again already.

“Oh Max, yes, yes, fuck fuck fuck! Don’t stop. Max. Max!”

You’re loud as you come for him, and you know it. Absolutely debauched and you can’t help it. Your thighs are shaking as they grip either side of his head and you’re practically riding his face as you come completely undone at his mercy and Max dutifully laps away at your folds and leisurely fucks you with his fingers for minutes long after you come and you just hum happily as your hips continue slowly rocking into his face and your hands continue to get lost in his hair.

Maybe it was because you hadn’t gotten off from anything but your own hand for much longer than you’d care to admit, or maybe Max Lord was secretly some kind of sex God, you weren’t sure, but all you did know is that you just had 2 of the most incredible orgasms of your lifetime and he hasn’t even fucked you yet.

Yeah, you were leaning more toward the sex God thing.

You’re so lost in your post orgasm bliss that you literally almost fall asleep while Max still has his tongue buried deep in your pussy. He seems perfectly content to just nuzzle into your folds and leisurely lick and suck and fingerfuck you like he has all the time in the world. He’s probably been at it a good five or ten minutes at least since you came but its soft and slow and sensual and the intimacy of it feels so heightened. He’s not trying to bring you to another orgasm, or overstimulate your sensitive sex, he just wants to be close to you, savor you like you’re his last meal, and you let him.

Your good boy.

He notices after a while how you’ve stopped rocking your hips into him and your hands have slowed from running through his hair and he finally pulls his mouth off of you and his fingers out and you groan tiredly at the loss. Max presses soft kisses to your mound and the insides of your thighs before pushing himself up onto his elbows and crawling back over top of you. Your head is lolled to the side, your eyes closed but a ridiculous smile playing on your lips. You actually nearly fucking fell asleep.

“Mmmm, that was nice” you mumble into your pillow.

“Angel I think I wore you out” Max chuckles and your eyes open wearily to look at him, your slick smeared across the bottom half of his face should maybe be embarrassing to you but you can’t help but find it anything but incredibly sexy.

“No, ‘m not…” you trail off for a moment, forgetting what you’re saying. “Not even tired” you try to sound convincing, but know you’re anything but.

“Get some sleep, my darling” Max’s voice is soft and suddenly at your ear, though you hadn’t even felt him move. He presses a kiss to your temple and then you feel him shift all of his weight off of you and you whine at the loss of body heat.

“Baby?” You murmur, reaching a hand out blindly for him. He takes your hand in his and brings his lips to your knuckles before placing it gently back down.

“Go to sleep, Angel, I’ll see you in the morning”

“But you didn’t…”

“I’m ok” he quickly promises. You highly doubt that. You felt him hard as a fucking rock against you earlier but you honestly don’t know if you have it in you to go another round either.

“You’re leaving?” You say, suddenly realizing he’s off the bed and standing beside it, pulling his t-shirt back over his head. You don’t mean to sound as whiny about it as you do, but you can’t help it.

“Alistair” he sighs.

“Oh, I’m sorry, you’re right” you quickly agree. You both know if the boy happens to either wake up in the middle of the night or get up before his father does, his dad’s room is the first place he’ll go and if he’s not there and finds him in your bed instead, well… neither of you were ready to go down that road with the boy just yet.

“I’m sorry Sweetheart, I wish…” he trails off, the thought unfinished but you hear it in his voice. You know he’d stay if he could.

“I know. It’s ok” you assure him, reaching up to squeeze his hand at his side.

“I will make it up to you” he smiles and you know it’s a promise, one that brings a grin to your lips as you snuggle further into your bed.

“I’ll hold you to that mister”

“Good night Angel” Max tells you, dropping your hand and leaning down to place a kiss to your forehead before he pulls your covers up and places them over you.

“Night Mr. Lord” you smile cheekily and he huffs a laugh before he heads out of your room and you hear the door click shut behind him.

You’re asleep the moment your head nestles back into your pillow so you don’t hear the shower coming back to life from Max’s ensuite, either.

Next Chapter

[jmagnabo92]

GGSB Fest 2024 - Please, Let Me

@goodgodfathersiriusblack

Prompt - De-aged harry.

When Harry's suddenly de-aged, Sirius takes care of him at Order Headquarters.

A03

***

Sirius is sitting in his horrible family’s house, desperately wishing to be anywhere else when suddenly the floo bursts green with several members of the Order that were at Hogwarts and the Weasleys, Hermione and… a five-year-old Harry?  

What?

Dumbledore comes through last and is looking quite grim.  

Sirius focuses on this little version Harry, who upon being set down by Hermione immediately runs to Sirius.  Sirius doesn’t hesitate to open his arms and let Harry cling to him.  

“What’s going on?”

“We’re not sure,” Hermione states.  “We were just eating dinner, Harry had been feeling off and was going to rest early since his detentions are over, and then out of nowhere, he’s shrinking and five again.”

“We think someone slipped him a de-aging potion,” McGonagall states.  “And he can’t stay at Hogwarts until it wears off.”

“He’ll stay here,” Sirius states.  

“I think he should go back to the Dursleys –” Dumbledore tries.

“And you’d be wrong,” Sirius states.  At the mere mention of the Dursleys, little Harry shakes and begs not to go to them.  “They barely tolerate teenage Harry during the summer, can you imagine how’d they treat him as a sudden five-year-old?”

“He’s safe there –”

“We’ve been through this – he’s never been safe from the people inside and he’s literally shaking from the mere thought of going back to them,” Sirius states.  “Please, let me take care of him.  It’s not like I have anything else to do and he is my godson.”

Dumbledore doesn’t look like he’s going to agree, but it seems like everyone else is on Sirius’ side arguing that Sirius is right, especially with the way that Harry’s clinging to him. 

“Alright, I suppose that Headquarters for now, at least until he’s his proper age, again.”

“Thank you.”

***

With that, everyone leaves, except Kingsley, who offers to be a support to Sirius as he deals with his suddenly a five-year-old godson.  

“Well, he just had dinner, and he said he wanted to rest.  Could you go get his room ready and I could I don’t know – give him a bath?” Sirius asks. 

Kingsley nods, and disappears, while Harry gives him wide eyes.  “Bath?”

“Does that sound good, Harry?  Maybe a nice bath to get clean and calm down?”

Harry nods, “With bubbles?”

“Naturally,” Sirius says, grinning.

***

The bath was actually kind of hilarious.  Little Harry appears to love the bath and was entirely enthused by the bubbles.  He almost didn’t want to get out of the bath, but he seemed worried about telling Sirius no, which only served to make Sirius hate the Dursleys more.  

After the bath, Harry’s even more surprised when he tells them the bedtime story of his parents first meeting and gets to fall asleep with a cute little Prongs and Padfoot stuffed animal.  

It’s almost difficult to tear himself away, but he finally does after about ten minutes.  

He’s almost startled by Kingsley, forgetting that he was there, when he closes the door and charms it so he’ll know when Harry wakes.  

“You’d have been a great parent to him,” Kingsley states.  “Already a natural.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Sirius states.  “Just trying to do my best.”

“Please.  You managed to keep him calm during the arguing, you gave him a bath, and read him a story and not once did you struggle.”

Sirius laughs.  “I was just remembering what I used to do when I babysat.  Maybe tomorrow, we’ll play as Padfoot and Snuffles again.”

“Padfoot and Snuffles?”

“It’s a long story.  Anyway, given all of the recent events, I’m sure Harry’ll be up before we know it, so we should get to bed.”

Kingsley gives him a wink.  “Together?”

Sirius smiles.  “Just sleep tonight.  I wouldn’t want little ears to interrupt.  Especially when he doesn’t know about us.”

Kingsley hums.  “Maybe when he’s fifteen, again, you might tell him.”

“Maybe.  For now, I just want to enjoy giving Harry little bit of his childhood back.”

“Sounds like a good idea.”

“Good.”

[vellatra]

"Fireflies" by Owl City (because it's in my head) and Silen Fah!

The house was dark and quiet. Tannufia lay snugly against me, one arm draped across my chest, snoring softly. Everything was cozy and perfect... why had I woken up?

A faint noise caught my attention and I strained my ears. Was that... sniffling?

I carefully lifted Tannufia's arm, rolled out of bed, and moved quietly out to the living room, pulling my nightshirt on as I did. There was no mistaking the noise now. I walked into the girls' bedroom.

Maddie was sprawled on her belly, drooling on her pillow. She wasn't having trouble. But Trajeda was curled up in a trembling little ball, with the sheets over her head, crying softly.

"What's wrong, Blueberry?" I asked, pulling the sheets back a little. She sat up, leaky eyes shut tight, and held her little arms out. "Come 'ere, honey." I scooped my daughter up, holding her close and rocking back and forth a little, like Tannufia and I had done many times before. "S'okay. You just had a bad dream. It's over now. You'll be alright...."

"Daddy!" she sobbed, rubbing her face in my shoulder. "Daddy...." and that was all I could get out of her.

So I thought for a bit. "Hey Blueberry," I said, carrying her out of the room so we wouldn't wake Maddie. "You wanna see somethin'?"

"...H-huh?" she said, lifting her head a little and wiping her eyes.

"I'm gonna show you what nighttime looks like on Earth," I said, grabbing a thick throw off the couch and wrapping it around us.

"Really?" she said, perking up, tears almost forgotten.

"Yeah really. But get yer hat - it's cold out there." I held her up to the hat hooks so she could reach. She put hers on, then grabbed mine and stuffed it on me. It was a little off-kilter, but it'd do its job so I didn't care. I stepped into my boots and carried her out on the porch.

"Whoaaaaa," said Trajeda, staring wide-eyed at the sky. She wasn't allowed outside past her bedtime, and - since she was young and her bedtime was early - she might never have seen the stars before, I wasn't sure.

"Them's the stars, " I said. "They're always there, but the suns are so bright, you only get to see 'em in the winter, and at night."

"They PRETTY," Trajeda breathed, still staring.

"They sure are pretty, Pumpkin."

"Earth got stars too?"

"Sure does," I said. "But Earth's only got one sun, and it's like Peta, it goes down every night. So on Earth you get to see the stars all year long, after bedtime."

"I wanna see Earth," said Trajeda, still dazzled. "The sky so... sparkly!"

"And that ain't the only thing sparkly," I said, stepping off the porch and heading down the street. Hopefully the buuds would be out tonight.... I took the stairs by the gate and came up at the top of the town wall, squinting into the woods. "Hey look," I said, pointing.

"Oooh," said Trajeda.

"Them's the buuds," I said. "They're always glowin' but you only see that in the dark."

"Mama showed me buuds up close once," she said. "They cute!"

"You bet, honey."

"Earth got buuds?"

"Naw," I said. "But it's got fireflies."

"Fireflies?"

"Yes ma'am," I said. "They're bugs that come out at night and light up, kinda like that. Except fireflies turn on and off, so you get a nice field full of 'em and there's all these twinklin' lights in the grass. S'real pretty."

"Lucky," said Trajeda, with a little pout in her lips.

"Hey now, Silen Fah's real pretty too," I said. "Earth don't got buuds, or two suns! An' all the tree trunks are brown."

"All of 'em?"

"Well, there's a few kinds that're white but yeah, pretty much. And Earth don't got farshanthis plants neither," I said, heading back down the stairs and stopping at one of the neighbor's porches, where several were potted. "Also, you don't get people with colorful hair neither," I said. "All the Earth people got is black, brown, red, and yellow. And white if yer old. You don't get nobody like you or yer mama."

Trajeda leaned her head back on my shoulder, with a shy little smile. "Okay, Daddy. Silen Fah pretty too." She fought back a yawn. "Thanks fer showin' me stars."

"Anytime, Blueberry. Let's get you back to bed," I said, turning from the neighbor's porch and going up the street again. Trajeda nestled into the crook of my arm, and by the time I got home, she was peacefully sleeping again. I tucked her carefully in - leaving the warm quilt wrapped around her - and went to curl up with Tannufia again.

[whentherewerebicycles]

ok lol put the boy to bed an hour early because we all needed a reset. he cried hysterically for 10 min before finally deigning to accept his pacifier and then he passed out literally a second later. today was actually not as bad because I had to work for a five-hour stretch which meant I got a five hour break from baby duties in the middle of the day while he hung out with his nanny. he was actually a lot less fussy in the evening compared to the last few days because his nanny and I both worked v hard to get him to nap. but bedtime was still A Lot. however! here are three good things:

I finished some student work that had been hanging over my head and was stressing me out. the complicated stuff with this student is not over yet but now the ball is in someone else’s court for a while. also I feel like I am getting really great support from the team which is a great sign. sometimes these kinds of companies will really throw you to the wolves (aka the helicopter parents) but this company is so far doing a great job of having my back and setting good boundaries with these hyperstressed parents.

THE BOY ROLLED OVER!!!!!!! he was doing tummy time and his gigantic noggin tipped him over to the side haha and he was lying there kvetching but also moving his arms and legs a bunch and then he just! rolled over! I thought it was a fluke so I put him back on his stomach and he immediately did it again as if to be like “and this one’s for the haters who said I couldn’t do it.” this is also in some ways something I NEEDED to happen. he can’t be swaddled if he’s capable of rolling but the fact that he wasn’t rolling yet meant I kept being like aaaaaa is it the right time to stop aaaaaa what if we need this crutch a while longer. but now it’s just like ok! decision made. we don’t have the easy option to fall back on anymore so we gotta just move forward.

my sister is ending a string of night shifts and is coming over tonight to do a full night with the boy 😭😭😭😭 so I can turn up the A/C super loud and close my door and just SLEEP without having to get up multiple times in the night to calm him down when he wakes up between sleep cycles and SHRIEKS. I am gonna go to bed at 9 and sleep until 7. I am so so grateful I really needed this

[terresdebrume]

I started writing this at work because I didn't get any prompt for my flash fic drive yesterday but I still wanted to do a little something, and this is what came out. On the upside, it's longer than my usual flash ficlets so. Yay for my first completed Webgott work :P

Bedtime Stories

They're in bed, settled in for an early evening with the blankets high under their chins. David is half draped over Joe's chest, because he likes having his head in the crook of Joe's neck and also because Joe likes the extra warmth—it's toasty, like this, and David has sweat gliding down his neck, but he enjoys this too much to let it go. Spending their winter evenings like this—him, finishing the day's crosswords in the San Francisco Chronicles, listening to Joe's heartbeat while Joe's fingers run through his hair and make an absolute nest out of it, the latest best seller in his free hand to keep the memories of Bastogne he rarely talks about at bay—very few things in the world compare to this. David will take all the sweat in the world and then some to keep this. He's comfortable, and warm, and beloved, and he's inches from sleep when he feels Joe's breathing speed up.

David looks up, frowning, but Joe's face doesn't look the way he does when the ghosts of the war catch up with him. He is frowning though, shoulders tensing under David's cheek, and David puts his pencil down, reaching up to cup Joe's cheek in his hand. Joe, his eyes still fixed on the book, doesn't pay attention to him until David starts fiddling with the branches of his reading glasses. He takes the kind of deep breath that comes after losing oneself between the pages of a good book, the release of deep focus and tension melting him further against the headboard.

"Am I bothering you, your highness?" He asks, and David puts on the haughtiest air he can muster:

"Yes, as a matter of fact. It's quite the racket in there. Good scene?"

Joe hums, contemplating, and twists until he can land a kiss in the palm of David's hand. He stays there for a moment or two, quiet enough that David wonders if maybe he's gotten lost in thoughts, until he says:

"I'd say efficient, more than good. I don't know that I like it."

David makes a questioning noise. He hasn't followed the plot of Joe's book very closely—Joe started it while David was rushing to meet three separate deadlines and had no mind to remember the details of some rich excentric man's birthday plans. Worse: the book is apparently the sequel to a children's story that David hasn't read, and overall seemed to expect its readers to care quite a bit more about genealogy than David is prepared to. He does nod when Joe asks if he remembers what happened last.

"They're at the inn now, right? With the uh. Ranger man."

Joe snorts, and David has known and loved him long enough by now to hear the implied 'literature studies and that's how you describe a plot. Pathetic.' A few years ago, David would have taken offense at that, but he's too comfortable for bickering tonight, so instead he makes a conceding hum and tilts his head up until Joe rolls his eyes and kisses him.

"Read it to me?" He asks after they pull apart some time later.

"'As they prepared for sleep in the inn at Bree, darkness lay on Buckland. A mist strayed in the dells and along the riverbank. The house at Crickhollow stood silent. Fatty Bolger opened the door cautiously and peered out.'"

Joe has a good reading voice, despite his protests. It's not the kind of voice they'd pick for the job on the radio, but the way he puts gravitas into the narration would put George Luz and his impressions to shame. It's easy for David to relax back down against him and try to imagine what a character named Fatty Bolger might look like.

"'A feeling of fear had been growing on him all day,'" Joe continues, "'and he was unable to rest or go to bed. There was a brooding threat, in the breathless night air. As he stared out into the gloom, a black shadow moved under the trees.'"

David's heart beat picks up just as Joe's does, his spine stiffening with the memory of countless guard rotations—the fight against exhaustion, the knowledge that in the dark every shadow could spell his death. The terror shooting through him with every crack of a branch or rustle of a leaf.

"'The gate seemed to open of its own accord, and close again without a sound,'" Joe continues, his free hand moving from David's head down to his shoulder. "'Terror seized him. He shrank back, and for a moment he stood trembling in the hall... then he shut and locked he door.'"

David's hand abandons its position on Joe's cheek and goes to grip Joe's hand instead. There is a tremor in his knees: the dull shock of landing on damp grass in the night, machine guns roaring in the distance—the rush of getting the 'chute off, pulling his rifle into position. Staring frantically into the pitch darkness of Normandy and desperately resisting the urge to shoot at the first thing that moves.

"'The night deepened,'" Joe continues, the rhythm of his ribcage against David's back speeding up again, his voice growing more tense by the second. "'There came the soft sound of horses led with stealth along the lane. Outside the gate, they stopped, and three black figures entered, like shades of night creeping across the ground. One went to the door.'"

Another night, another building to clear. Rushing to the door, trying to think about what to do—grenade, wait, rush in—rather than what could be waiting there.

"'One to the corner of the house on either side, and there they stood, as still as the shadows of stone while the night went slowly on. The house and the quiet trees seemed to be waiting breathlessly.'"

The dissonance between the quiet and the fear. The knowledge that peace was still there, just out of reach behind gossamer curtains.

"'There was a faint stir in the leaves, and a cock crowed far away. The cold hour before dawn was passing.'"

Waiting in a ditch, with dozens of better armed men a scant few feet away from realizing they could hose the lot of them down in less than a minute. Dreading the only orders Winters could possibly give in that situation, and knowing there would be nothing for it but to execute them anyway.

"'The figure by the door moved. In the dark without a moon or stars, a drawn blade gleamed, as if a chill light had been unsheathed. There was a blow—'"

Something knocks against the front door, and David jumps so hard his head collides with Joe's chin, whose yelp echoes in the little bedroom. They sit together for a moment, the fingers of their clasped hands tight around each other as they slow their breathing down as best as they can. There's another knock, and this time David only flinches before he straightens up. He glances at Joe behind him and finds him pale and drawn, the familiar furrow of his anger cutting deep between his eyebrows as he grips David's hand tighter than ever.

"I'll get it," David says as their landlady starts calling for them at the door.

He brings Joe's hand to his lips and presses a kiss on the back of it, just so he can remind himself where he is—where they are—before he makes his way through the tiny apartment, vaguely combing through his hair until he opens the door. Mrs. Obradovic startles, and immediately falls into a concerned frown:

"Is everything alright my dear? You look like you've seen a ghost!"

The truth of it is both much sillier and infinitely more serious than Mrs. Obradovic thinks, but David doesn't feel up to baring his soul to his octogenarian proprietor, no matter how kindly she is, so he makes himself laugh.

"I almost thought I did. How may I help you?"

She points down to a small bag on the floor.

"Josep finally came home with the coal," she says, still visibly concerned. "I'd have waited until tomorrow, but I know your Joe doesn't do well with the cold."

"Thank you, Mrs. Obradovic," David says, sincere through the headiness of calming down after an abrupt fright. "You're an angel."

"Nonsense, nonsense. Now, you boys have a good night, and let me know if you need anything else, yes?"

"We will. Thank you again," David says, and finds himself giving her a warmer smile than he normally does, touched by her continued concern over Joe's well being.

He closes the door behind her, locks it, and deals with the coal before he makes his way back to the bedroom, dusting his hands off as he walks. The book is back on Joe's bedside table when he enters, red eye staring at David from the wide black circle on the cover, and the spindly red runes almost feel like they're about to start moving. On the bed, Joe is no longer as pale as the novel's cover, which David decides to take as a good sign as he crawls up onto Joe's lap and takes his face between his hands.

"So," he says, pressing his forehead against Joe's and taking deep breaths to calm himself down. "I see what you meant by efficient."

"Yeah."

There is a brief silence, and then Joe sighs and goes soft between David's palms, pliant like he is after nightmares finally let go of him, usually several hours past dawn. David draws him in and nuzzles his nose, dipping in to plant little kisses on Joe's cheeks. On his hips, he feels Joe's fingers tighten again, almost to the point of bruising, until Joe's arms wrap around his waist and pull him in tight.

"Fuck," Joe says eventually, the slip into German more familiar now that David finally convinced him there was no reason to punish himself for what the Nazis did. "Fuck, it's just a fucking book."

"Well, at least you're not the one who nearly broke his lover's nose over it."

That startles a laugh out of Joe, and he tilts his head up to kiss David's lips. They don't kiss like that often—usually, Joe prefers to tug David downward to negate their height difference. But David likes it when he gets to kiss Joe from above, likes the opportunity to cradle his face with his hands, the excuse to treat Joe like the precious thing he is without being accused of thinking he's fragile. They lose themselves in the kiss for several long minutes, and by the end David is almost back to the the mellow state he was in before they started reading.

"Right," Joe says, picking up the book from the bedside table and tossing it to the other end of the room, "Goodbye, Tolkien."

"I don't know," David says, eyes drawn to where the first few letters of 'Fellowship' shimmer in the dim light of Joe's bedside lamp, "I'm intrigued now."

"Intrigued?" Joe repeats, incredulous. "You nearly shat yourself."

"Yeah, well, so did you," David shoots back, soothing the sting with a kiss on Joe's nose. "What can I say, I'm braver about fiction than reality."

"Like I didn't know that," Joe scoffs, and David rolls his eyes.

"I'm serious, Liebling. I'm going to read it."

"Right."

"Just...maybe not at night," David admits, and Joe's face goes from gently mocking to purely fond as he squeezes his arms around David's waist.

"Don't worry," he says, visibly going for a joking tone, "I'll hug you better if you scare yourself."

Joke's on him, though, because that's exactly what David was angling for.

ETA: Cleaned up (and longer!) Version now available on AO3!

[peppapiglover]

SEBASTIAN IS SO CUTE

I woke up to find him in the nursery, looking at the crib. He gave me a ruby 🥺

He's so adorable 😭 Going to add it to my collection ofc!

Later that evening, I came home early and found him again in the nursery, putting our kids to sleep. He surprised me by saying something naughty in front of our kids... which (I'm barely realizing) he hasn't said once, until now, since the birth of our first child. Not surprising tho since that man did not waste any time trying to conceive our children 💀 As soon as the nursery was built, baby making time. The night our baby grew out of the crib? Anotha one. if this is his way of hinting, i would gladly give him a child

but anyway

He said this right after which genuinely caught me SO off guard.

We've been married since Fall 1 of Year 1, it's Spring of Year 4 and I've NEVER experienced jealousy issues with Sebastian - not even on my switch file. I've spent the last two-ish seasons building relationships with Elliott and Harvey (even gifting them bouquets lmfaooo) and he never said anything to me until tonight, when I gifted Sam a cola for the first time in a year maybe? Interesting... I told him the truth and he wasn't mad about it, but highkey I kinda liked this jealous side I've never seen before...

No but seb is so adorable. I've seen so many people dislike Seb because they've had bad interactions with him but he has always been the sweetest to me. Always gifts me energy tonics, aquamarines and rubies, he would constantly spend his days in the nursery during the pregnancy of each child & even now he hangs out in there until it's bedtime. ALSO, TIL not all spouses bring the kids to festivals???? Idk how true that is but Seb has always brought the kids with him. I assumed all marriage candidates did that, but if they don't, Seb gets bonus points for being an awesome dad.

kinda cool to see that it's the same character, yet we all have wildly different experiences

BUT IDDKKKKK I probably just have the best most perfect special unique amazing one of a kind marriage ever this save file bc hes so amazing to me😼 I love this pixel man

[dragonbreth]

Time forsaken| TZ11

Authors note: We are going to pretend that I am not in the middle of my German class writing this! I’m so excited to write this cause my friend and I were watching Miss Peregrines home for peculiar children at lunch and I got the idea to write this!

Warnings ⚠️: slight swearing, pet names, just a warning that the ages might be wonky cause I’m too lazy to actually calculate how old the people would be! This is also just warning that most of this story isn’t about Trevor though he is in the story most of it is about Rowan’s backstory cause this is going to become a AU later on.

Aged!Trevor Zegras x Aged!F!Reader

“Grammy!” Kyrah yelled out in joy of seeing her grandmother “hi dear, how are my girls?” Rowan exclaimed looking at the 4 girls

“We are doing great mom. Thank you so much for watching them, it’s really helping me out tonight.” Spoke Michelle, Rowan’s only daughter “what kind of grandma would I be if I didn’t? Trevor is out with a few friends for the weekend so I was going to be lonely anyway.” Rowan told her daughter

The youngest of the three girls clung to Rowan’s leg, not letting go any time soon.

*later that evening*

“Girls! Who’s ready for a bedtime story?”

“Me!” Kyrah and Kacy yelled jumping onto the black L shaped sofa

“Kyland? You don’t want to listen to the bedtime story?” Rowan asked hoping she’d say yes just like old times

“I’m gonna pass grams, sorry but I’ve gotten too old for bedtime stories.” Kyland said as she walked into the guest bedroom closing the wooden door behind her

“Mhm…let’s begin shall we? Once upon a time there was a young girl named Rowan.”

“That’s you!” Kacy interrupted “hush kacy!” Kyrah yelled

“Rowan wasn’t like other little girls her age, she was smarter. She could memorize the whole Russian alphabet by the age of 6! Rowan’s mother and father thought she was too smart-“

There were three knocks on the front door of the brick home

“One moment love bugs.” Rowan exclaimed as she jumped up from the sofa and scurried to the door of the home

“Michelle! You’re back early. Is everything alright dear?” Rowan asked, her voice laced with concern

“Nothings wrong, just thought the girls would want to sleep in their own bed tonight.” Michelle said bluntly “oh! I understand!” Rowan said forcing a smile

“Girls! You’re mother is here to pick you up!” Rowan yelled to her 3 grandchildren

“Thank god.” Kyland mumbled walking past Rowan

“Bye girls” Rowan waved as she watched her 4 girls drive off in the white bmw she bought her daughter for her 21st birthday

Michelle drive steadily on the road as she listened to her 8 year old daughter Kyrah tell her about Rowan’s bedtime story

“You realize Grammy is just full of it, right?” Kyland said turning and looking at the 8 year old and 4 year old known as Kyrah and Kacy in the back seat

Kacy looked up at Kyland with tears in her eyes which Michelle noticed quickly

“Kyland grace!” Michelle exclaimed “what! Grammy is a wack-a-do!” “That’s no way to speak of you’re grandmother! I should wash your mouth out with soap for saying that!”

“You actually believe that her parents sent her away to a boarding school cause she was “too smart”?” Kyland asked “hey don’t spoil it!” Kacy yelled from the backseat

“Listen Kyland, I know it’s hard to believe but it actually happened. Grams told me that story when I was a young girl.” “God knows that was forever ago.” Kyland said under her breath “excuse me? That’s it. I’ve had absolutely enough of your nonsense! No phone for a week!”

“Mom I’m 13 you expect me to believe that crazy stuff?!?”

[addaxus]

Me and my dear partner in crime 💚 have been enjoying writing these little snippets. I’ll be putting both our versions up for “comparison.” My version was written after the OG, so credit is not all mine as always. It’s amazing the different writing styles you come across. Writing is a beautiful art in itself. Please enjoy from the two of us:

OG Possible Opening for Unforeseen

Maria: Apri Gli Occhi, Mia Figlia (Open Your Eyes, My Daughter).

Mirabel slowly opened her eyes as asked. Lain out on the bed was an emerald green tablet. It glew with viridescent light, though Mirabel could just make out something on the surface.

Mirabel: It's beautiful, Mama.

Maria: This tablet shows the future of our family.

Mirabel: How did you get it?

Maria: Long ago, your Uncle Alonzo and I found a man out in the fields surrounding our home. Winter had started setting in early, a blizzard sweeping across the territory. The man was sick and delirious with fever. I could not leave him there. Could never live with myself if I did. Yet, when I reached out to help him, he held onto me and showed me his Gift. He showed me our family would grow...

Maria lifted the tablet up, revealing an image of herself and a newborn infant in her arms.

Maria: He showed me I would be a mother. But the father remained unforeseen. We took him in, nursed him as best we could, and he returned our kindness by staying on the farm to help us through our struggles. Overtime, I fell in love with him, despite his troubles. And he felt the same, despite his self-reservations. He asked me to marry him. And after we were wed, the prophecy he had foreseen came true. I became a mother. And he became your father.

Mirabel was in awe. Her Papa had foreseen her birth. He had magic: Something she had only heard about in bedtime stories and fairytales. That must mean...

Mirabel: Is Papa a witch?

Maria: Not exactly.

Mirabel: But how can he do magic? He has to be a witch. Only witches can do magic.

Maria sighed. This girl truly was her daughter: Curious, insightful, and persistent. No wonder Alonzo found her troublesome at times. Still, not like he was any easier.

Maria: Perhaps your Papa can explain.

She turned to face the door.

Maria: Come in, Amore Mio.

The door creaked open. Standing in the entrance was a figure, seven-feet tall and cast in shadow.

Maria: Your daughter wishes to know more about your Gift, my love. It is best she hears it from you.

With a sigh, the figure moved towards them. As he drew closer, the light from the bedroom candle dispelled his dark form. What was once a seven-foot tall shadow shrunk down to reveal a 5'4 stick of a man. Close as he was, Mirabel's father kept his distance from them, his face weary and concerned. He decided to sit on a small stool rather than on the bed.

Mirabel: Papa... How did you get your Gift?

Bruno: Long ago. Before you were born. Before I met your mother. Mi Madre, your Abuela, has this magic candle. It's flame would never go out. The magic of the candle had saved her in her darkest moment. A Miracle, she called it. When I turned five, Mi Hermanas and I were given our Gifts. And we used them to help others to honor the Miracle that blessed us. And years later, I met your Mama.

Mirabel: I'm turning five in a few days. Does that mean I'll get a Gift like yours?

Bruno visibly tensed when he heard those words. Both of his hands clenched. Eyes focused down on the hard wooden floor. Mirabel was confused. Why did her Papa look so upset? Maria took this as her cue to interject.

Maria: We do not know, Mira-boo. The magic candle is hidden far away. But if you do, it won't change anything. You are still a wonderful child.

Mirabel: But if I had a Gift like Papa's, I could do so much! Wouldn't that be a good thing?

Bruno:...I think it is time for you to rest, Mirabel. Tonight has been more eventful than I am comfortable with.

Maria: Ay, Bruno. Your father is right, Mirabel. We shall see what happens.

With that, Maria tucked her daughter to bed and kissed her goodnight. She removed the emerald tablet and walked out the door. Bruno followed after her, ready to close the door behind him when...

Mirabel: Papa?

Bruno: ...Si, Mirabel?

Mirabel: Are you worried my Gift will be... bad?

Bruno: ...We cannot be certain you will even get a Gift, Hija. You are far too young to be dwelling on such things. Lord knows I have too much these past few days. A Gift ain't something worth fussing over.

With that, Bruno closed the door. Mirabel laid her head on the blanket facing the candle on her nightstand. She sighed.

Mirabel: But if I had a Gift, maybe you could finally see me and not always be so far away.

She set her glasses down on the nightstand before blowing out the candle. With her back turned to the window, she didn't notice a small golden butterfly resting against the glass.

Possible Opening To Unforeseen (My version)

“Apri Gli Occhi, Farfalla Mia. Open your eyes, my butterfly.”

In a dimly lit room, two figures sat on a makeshift bed. A mother and daughter sat together, the little girl in her lap on the bed.

When she did as her mother asked, both of their eyes were trained on an iridescent glowing tablet of green glass. In her glasses’ reflection shone the bright light, and in her eyes shared the same brightness as she gazed in awe at it. The image was hidden from view with the angle in which the tablet sat. Mere curiosity had caught her eye when the vague image had found it.

“What is it, Mama? Where’d it come from?”

Maria moved some curls from her face and carded her hands in them, looking down at the tablet, reminiscing the memories.

“It shows our family—From the past looking into the future,” Mirabel shifted in her lap, looking up from below her mother’s jaw, interested in listening, “Long ago, your Uncle Alonzo and I found a man out in the pastures surrounding our home. Winter had started setting in early, a blizzard had swept across the territory. The man was sick and delirious with fever—and wounded. I could not leave him there… I would never live with myself if I did. Yet, when I reached out to help him, he reached back and showed me his Gift when we touched. He showed me our family would grow...”

Maria gently leaned forward over Mirabel and held the tablet up with both hands, then brought it into Mirabel’s own lap, looking over her shoulder down at it with her. Mirabel’s little hand grazed over the cool glass, over the three dimensional image that seemed just within reach.

It showed her Mama with a newborn infant in her arms. Maria traced the image along with Mirabel.

“See there? He showed me I would be a mother. But the father remained unforeseen. We took him in, nursed him as best we could, and he returned our kindness by staying on the farm to help us through our struggles. Overtime, I fell in love with him, despite his troubles. And he felt the same, despite his self-reservations. He asked me to marry him after awhile, then we were wed. Some months later the prophecy he had foreseen came true. I became a mother. And he became your father.”

Mirabel seemed to be at a loss for words, bug-eyed with a slight grin. Her soon to be father in the past had seen his future daughter unknowingly. She realized he had magic: Something she had only heard about in bedtime stories and fairytales. That must mean...

“Mama is Papa a witch then?”

“No, silly, not exactly.”

Mirabel looked back and forth from the tablet to her mother in confusion.

“But only witches could do magic, right? That means that Papa would be one!”

Ah yes, Maria couldn’t help but remind herself that Mirabel was indeed her own daughter by her persistence, her intense curiosity, and deep insight. She recalled Alonzo’s grumpy mood after a short session just talking with her, but nonetheless he was still somehow patient.

“I’ll just let your papa explain it…”

Maria looked toward the door where she’d told him to wait outside.

“Come in, Amore Mio.”

The door gently creaked open and in he came, long casted shadow following to presume his seven-foot frame as foretold in the fables. The lighting was very ominous it seemed.

“Your daughter wishes to know more about your Gift, my love. It is best she hears it from you.”

Maria gently takes the vision tablet and sets it aside so Mirabel can hop off her lap and dangle her feet over the side of the bed while Maria sits next to her.

With a sigh the figure moves towards them. As he drew closer, the light from the bedroom candle dispelled his dark form. What was once a seven-foot tall shadow shrunk down to reveal a 5'4 stick of a man. Close as he was, Mirabel's father kept his distance from them, his face weary and concerned. He decided to sit on a small stool near the corner rather than on the bed.

“How, Papa?”

Bruno leans his arms on his knees and leans forward with his head to the ground.

“Long ago, before you were born—Before I met your mother, Mi Madre, your Abuela, had a magic candle. Its flame would never go out. The magic of the candle had saved her in her darkest moment—A Miracle, she called it. When I turned five, Mi Hermanas and I were given our Gifts. And we used them to help others to honor the Miracle that blessed us. And years later, I met your Mama.”

There was a short pause, so Mirabel decided to speak up.

“…I'm turning five soon. Does that mean I'll get a Gift like yours?”

Bruno froze, muscles tensing and flexing under his shirt when he heard those words. Both of his hands clenched into fists, eyes focused down on the hard wooden floor like a deer in the headlights. Mirabel was confused. Why did her Papa look so upset? Maria took this as her cue to interject and cleared her throat.

“We do not know, Mira-boo. The magic candle is hidden far away. But if you do, it won't change anything. You are still a wonderful child. To both of us.”

Mirabel nearly jumped up on her feet on the bed.

“But if I had a Gift like Papa's, I could do so much! Wouldn't that be a good thing?” She blurted excitedly.

Bruno furrowed his brows when he looked up at the two of them and cleared his throat, standing up.

“…I think… that’s enough for tonight, Mirabel. You’ve had a long day and this is going on longer than I’m comfortable with. It’s time for bed.”

“Aye, Bruno—Your father is right, Mirabel. We shall see what happens.”

With that, Maria tucked her daughter to bed and kissed her goodnight. She took the emerald tablet away and walked out the door. Bruno followed after her, ready to close the door behind him when...

“Papa?” Her little voice stopped him in his tracks and he froze again.

“What is it, Mira?” He looked her way with big eyes of dread.

“Are you worried my Gift will be... bad?”

He looked past her out her window where the clear view of their oak tree was illuminated by the moonlight.

“...We cannot be certain you will even get a Gift, Hija. You are far too young to be dwelling on such things. Lord knows I have been doing that too much these past few days. A Gift ain't something worth fussing over.”

Bruno resumed his steps and closed the door. Mirabel laid her head on the blanket facing the candle on her nightstand. She sighed deeply.

“But if I had a Gift, maybe you could finally see me and not always be so far away…” she whispered.

She set her glasses down on the nightstand before blowing out the candle. With her back turned to the window, she didn't notice a small golden butterfly resting against the glass.

[notmaplemable]

Schneecaster 8: I Forgot

Summer: Okay, now that you two have your sleeping bags for tonight, you can go ahead and take a shower. Change into you PJs, and we'll get ready for bed.

Tai: Yeah, I'm about ready to turn in.

Raven: It's only nine.

Summer: Well, we have to get up early to head into Vale tomorrow, and we don't want to be tired all day.

Qrow: Do we really need a bedtime? What are we, five?

Summer: I-I just- I just think it's a good idea to go to bed early. You don't have to if you don't want I guess.

Jaune: Well um, Ruby you can take a shower first.

Ruby: Jaune.

Jaune: Yeah, Rubes?

Ruby: *Whispering* I kind of forgot my pajamas in the future.

Jaune: Well that sucks. I guess you'll have to wear your combat gear then.

Ruby: I guess, but sleeping in a corset isn't really that comfy.

Summer: What are you two whispering about?

Jaune: Ruby forgot her pajamas back in the f- at Haven.

Ruby: Jaune!

Summer: It's okay Ruby. It's not like I haven't ever forgotten something important like that.

Tai: Like that time your forgot... basically everything you needed for our wilderness survival course back at Signal.

Summer: *Nervous chuckle* Yeah...

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

Lot’s Visitors

1 The two angels came to Sodom in the evening. Lot was sitting near the city gate and saw them. He got up and went to them and bowed facedown on the ground. 2 Lot said, “Sirs, please come to my house and spend the night. There you can wash your feet. Then tomorrow you may continue your journey.”

The angels answered, “No, we will spend the night in the city’s public square.”

3 But Lot begged them to come to his house. So they agreed and went to his house. Then Lot prepared a meal for them. He baked bread without yeast, and they ate it.

4 Before bedtime, all the men of the city surrounded Lot’s house. These men were both young and old and came from every part of Sodom. 5 They called to Lot, “Where are the two men who came to you tonight? Bring them out to us. We want to force them to have physical relations with us.”

6 Lot went outside to them, closing the door behind him. 7 He said, “No, my brothers! Do not do this evil thing. 8 Look! I have two daughters. They have never slept with a man. I will give them to you. You may do anything you want with them. But please don’t do anything to these men. They have come to my house, and I must protect them.”

9 The men around the house answered, “Move out of the way!” Then they said to each other, “This man Lot came to our city as a stranger. Now he wants to tell us what to do!” They said to Lot, “We will do worse things to you than to them.” So they started pushing Lot back. They were ready to break down the door.

10 But the two men staying with Lot opened the door and pulled him back inside the house. Then they closed the door. 11 The two men struck the men outside the door with blindness. So these men, both young and old, could not find the door.

12 The two men said to Lot, “Do you have any other relatives in this city? Do you have any sons-in-law, sons, daughters or any other relatives? If you do, tell them to leave now. 13 We are about to destroy this city. The Lord has heard of all the evil that is here. So he has sent us to destroy it.”

14 So Lot went out and spoke to his future sons-in-law. They were pledged to marry his daughters. Lot said, “Hurry and leave this city! The Lord is about to destroy it!” But they thought Lot was joking.

15 At dawn the next morning, the angels begged Lot to hurry. They said, “Go! Take your wife and your two daughters with you. Then you will not be destroyed when the city is punished.”

16 But Lot delayed. So the two men took the hands of Lot, his wife and his two daughters. The men led them safely out of the city. So the Lord was merciful to Lot and his family. 17 The two men brought Lot and his family out of the city. Then one of the men said, “Run for your lives! Don’t look back or stop anywhere in the valley. Run to the mountains or you will be destroyed.”

18 But Lot said to one of them, “Sir, please don’t force me to go so far! 19 You have been merciful and kind to me. You have saved my life. But I can’t run to the mountains. The disaster will catch me, and I will die. 20 Look, that little town over there is not too far away. Let me run there. It’s really just a little town. I’ll be safe there.”

21 The angel said to Lot, “Very well, I will allow you to do this also. I will not destroy that town. 22 But run there fast. I cannot destroy Sodom until you are safely in that town.” (That town is named Zoar, because it is little.)

Sodom and Gomorrah Destroyed

23 The sun had already come up when Lot entered Zoar. 24 The Lord sent a rain of burning sulfur down from the sky on Sodom and Gomorrah. 25 So the Lord destroyed those cities. He also destroyed the whole Jordan Valley, everyone living in the cities and even all the plants.

26 At that point Lot’s wife looked back. When she did, she became a pillar of salt.

27 Early the next morning, Abraham got up and went to the place where he had stood before the Lord. 28 Abraham looked down toward Sodom and Gomorrah and all the Jordan Valley. He saw smoke rising from the land. It was like smoke from a furnace.

29 God destroyed the cities in the valley. But he remembered what Abraham had asked. So God saved Lot’s life. But he destroyed the city where Lot had lived.

Lot and His Daughters

30 Lot was afraid to continue living in Zoar. So he and his two daughters went to live in the mountains. They lived in a cave there. 31 One day the older daughter said to the younger, “Our father is old. Everywhere on the earth women and men marry. But there are no men around here for us to marry. 32 Let’s get our father drunk. Then we can have physical relations with him. We can use our father to have children. That way we can continue our family.”

33 That night the two girls got their father drunk. Then the older daughter went and had physical relations with him. But Lot did not know when she lay down or when she got up.

34 The next day the older daughter said to the younger, “Last night I had physical relations with my father. Let’s get him drunk again tonight. Then you can go and have physical relations with him, too. In this way we can use our father to have children to continue our family.” 35 So that night they got their father drunk again. Then the younger daughter went and had physical relations with him. Again, Lot did not know when she lay down or when she got up.

36 So both of Lot’s daughters became pregnant by their father. 37 The older daughter gave birth to a son. She named him Moab. Moab is the ancestor of all the Moabite people who are still living today. 38 The younger daughter also gave birth to a son. She named him Ben-Ammi. He is the father of all the Ammonite people who are still living today. — Genesis 19 | International Children’s Bible (ICB) The Holy Bible, International Children’s Bible® Copyright© 1986, 1988, 1999, 2015 by Thomas Nelson. Cross References: Genesis 8:1; Genesis 13:10; Genesis 13:13; Genesis 14:2; Genesis 16:2; Genesis 18:6; Genesis 18:20; Genesis 18:22; Exodus 2:14; Numbers 16:26; Deuteronomy 2:9; Deuteronomy 2:19; Judges 19:24; 1 Samuel 25:35; Jeremiah 38:20; Jeremiah 51:45; Luke 1:58; Luke 10:12; Luke 7:44; Luke 17:28; Luke 17:32; Luke 21:34; Acts 13:11; 2 Peter 2:2; 2 Peter 2:6-7; Revelation 9:2; Revelation 14:10; Revelation 18:4; Revelation 18:9

Sodom and Gomorrah

[cherrycocaineee]

33. Rowena McLeod - Bedtime Stories

Synopsis: It’s a late evening inside the bunker, and the young witch, Poppy, has come down with the flu. Everyone’s doing what they can for the young girl, including a distraught Rowena. While everyone’s asleep, Rowena goes to check on the young witch, finding her awake. So Rowena decides to read the witch a bedtime story, hoping she’ll get the much needed rest necessary to get better.

* Rowena’s p.o.v *

Despite the quiet thunder rumbling effortlessly through the evening sky, warning anyone it could of the upcoming storm brewing in the distance, the inside of the bunker was silent. I sat worriedly at the large table nibbling at my cuticles as I listened for Poppy; a cough, a sneeze, her cries of pain as she hurled into the garbage can Sam Winchester had placed beside her. There was no magical spell that could make her feel better, just old fashion care; something I wasn’t use to giving. Maybe it was good news that she wasn’t having trouble sleeping, maybe it was the first sign that her illness was starting to kick itself out of her system. If that was the case, then I should probably head to bed myself and check on her in the morning.

I pulled my tired body out of the chair, my legs feeling numb from how long I had been sitting there, and made my way towards my guest room. With each step I got closer to Poppy’s room, and the deepening worry of a mother continued to grow and rage inside me.

“I’ll check on her one more time tonight. Just to be sure,” I hummed to myself.

Her door was cracked open, the dimly lit lamp creating a sense of warmth and welcome as I approached. I didn’t go inside right away, instead, I leaned forward to get a better listen then gently pushed the door open. There was a light creaking sound caused by the rusty hinges that desperately needed to be oiled up. When I poked my head inside, I saw Poppy sitting up in her bed sipping from her glass of water. In her lap was a book and I wondered to myself how long she had been up, and how I didn’t hear her.

“Rowena?” She questioned, tilting her head to the side; her onyx black hair shuffling at the sudden movement, “I didn’t think you’d be awake so late.”

Beside her bed was an alarm clock that read that it was almost two o’clock in the morning. I stepped completely into her bedroom, my heels clicking against her bare floor. She really needed a carpet in here, the poor girl hardly wore any shoes and the floors probably felt like ice in the early mornings.

“Well,” I said, my thick accent clouding the room, “with you being sick, sweet girl, I figured someone should stay up to wait on you. And since the boys have turned in, I thought a mothers touch would be better than a sleepy, grumpy, gun wielding Winchester.”

A grin cracked onto her face as she giggled, and I swore I could hear the sound of fairies being born in the distance. She was magic inside and out. Her laughter was killed off as she started coughing, hacking up whatever fluid was currently blocking her airway. Sympathy coated my glistening eyes as I approached her, rubbing her back soothingly. When she was finished coughing raspily, she sipped on her water to soothe the aching soreness in her infected throat.

“You shouldn’t get so close,” she croaked, “the flu is no joke, apparently.”

I sat down in the chair that was angled beside her bed, letting my hands rest in my lap.

“Darling, don’t you worry your sweet little head about my wellbeing. What have you got going on here?”

Our attention turned towards the book that rested easily in her lap. It didn’t look like any book I’ve ever seen, nor did it seem like a spellbook considering all of the funny little pictures inside.

“It’s a story book,” she muttered, “I’m not feeling very tired, so I wanted to read a little bit. Thought maybe it would be like when a mother or father reads their children to sleep. Unfortunately, it’s not.”

It was a miracle that Poppy turned out the way she did, kind, loving, friendly; considering all of the bad things that have happened to her during her life. If anyone had the right to be angry and cruel at the world it was her but instead she held onto things that children clung to.

I took the story book out from her lap and peered down at the page. I didn’t recognize the story, it was one I’ve ever heard or read about. The portrayed photo on the right showed a pretty redhead with a green tail staring off at some shipwrecked, ditzy prince.

“The story is called ‘The Little Mermaid’,” Poppy informed, “it’s about a curious mermaid who falls in love with a human prince and bargains her voice away to win him over on land.”

“Ah, well, sounds like it should be…interesting. Come on, let’s get you tucked in and I’ll read you a wee bedtime story to help you drift off to sleep. You need to rest if you plan on getting better.”

Poppy laid back in her bed and pulled her covers closer to her chin, nuzzling herself deeper into her fluffed pillows. I flipped to the beginning of the story, crossing my right leg over my left. Taking a deep breath, I began reading.

“There once was a curious little mermaid named Ariel with the most beautiful voice in the entire sea…”

The story was just as she had said it would be. A teenage mermaid, curious of the human world, trades her voice to the sea witch so she could win over her prince. And so on and so on. By the time I finished the last line in the book, Poppy had fallen asleep. The sound of her stuffy nose wheezing with each deep breath she took barely filled the room. I reached over and turned off the lamp beside her bed, leaned down, pressing a simple kiss to her fevered temple, then left her room while still holding her book. The soft clicking sound of the door closing drifted throughout the halls but not loud enough to wake anyone up. In my own bedroom, after changing out of my normal attire, I plopped myself into the mattress ready for bed. I stared down at the book I had read to the young witch and smiled.

“Things would have been different if I had a daughter,” I muttered to myself, “if Poppy were my child.”