#sandwichbasedworldview

48. “You’re getting crumbs all over my bed.”

She hasn’t left the room since they let her in to see him- the kids have been bringing her food, and she’s been washing her face in the bathroom sink. Her hair has seen better days, though El had given her a lime green scrunchie to pull it out of her face- the teenager had even brushed her hair out, pulling it back into a ponytail gently before wrapping her arms around Joyce, sinking her head onto her shoulder.

The doctors had told her it may take days for him to wake up; that had been three days ago.

“You have to eat something, Mom. You skipped breakfast,” Will nudges the sandwich towards her, lifting an eyebrow. “The three cups of coffee you’ve had doesn’t count.”

Joyce sighs, and takes the sandwich from her son, lifting a hand to cup his cheek and pulling her mouth up into a half-smile. “Okay, baby. I’ll eat it in a bit, I promise.”

Will narrows his eyes, studying her, but accepts her answer, and munches on his own sandwich. Jonathan and El return a little while later, and Joyce sends Will off with them when the doctor comes in to check Hopper’s vitals. She strokes her fingers over his knuckles, taking a moment to lay her hand over his before she picks up the abandoned sandwich and unwraps it.

It’s still so hard to believe that they’re even here- that it’s been nearly ten months since Starcourt, and believing she’d watched Hopper sacrifice himself. She hadn’t wanted to believe Murray when he’d come to her with possible news about Hopper- hadn’t wanted to allow herself to hope that he could still be alive. But here he was- asleep, yes, but heart beating and breathing beside her nonetheless.

“You’re getting crumbs all over my bed,” she nearly jumps at the hoarse voice that sounds from beside her, and when she looks up, there are tired, familiar, beautiful blue eyes staring at her from under the bushy beard and overgrown hair, and Joyce can’t help the fact that she bursts into tears on the spot. “Hey- sweetheart, c’mere.”

Hospital rules be damned, Joyce climbs into bed beside him, hands on his face as one of his arms slides around her waist, holding him too him.

“I don’t- want to hurt you,” she hiccups, and his lips brush her hairline as his grip on her tightens.

“You could never,” he murmurs, and Joyce’s fingers settle on his neck, feeling his pulse. “The kids?”

“They’re here. They’ll want to see you, I should go-” she starts, but when she moves to rise, Hopper keeps her against him.

“Just- another minute,” he whispers, and Joyce settles back down, hand over his heart. “’m so god damn happy to see you, Joy.”

Joyce can’t answer, her words lodged in her throat, so she just grips him tighter and squeezes her eyes shut, inhaling deeply. Hopper seems to understand, and buries his face in her hair, his own hands gripping her sweater tightly.

“Let me go get the kids,” she finally murmurs, and swipes at her eyes as she sits up, sniffling slightly when she inhales. Hopper lifts one hand, brushing his thumb along her cheek before his palm cups it, and Joyce sinks into it briefly before she turns and brushes her lips against his skin. “I’ll be right back.”

In Baby Mama, I think!!

15. Kiss drabble: A kiss because I have literally been watching you all night and I can’t take anymore

A/N: Just a little bit of dopey middle-aged romance. I hope you enjoy :)

Sweet Dreams

Henry has been watching his wife sleep for hours now. Playful envy and his own exhaustion swirling together in his chest with every rise and fall of her chest, as she gains another second of sleep the NSA is causing him to go without. Let her sleep, he chastises himself. Sleep is such a rare occurrence for either of them, he would not- should not disturb her when she’s managing to rack some in. Contents himself with watching the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest, and the way her eyes flutter as she dreams.

Her light hair is splayed out- quite adorably, if he might add- all disheveled across her face and the pillows. His hand wanders. Pen falling from his fingers. Notes abandoned. He skims his hand over hers, stealing her fingers between his, and raising them ever so gently to his lips, pressing his lips to her knuckles. He smiles as she stirs, grumbles something completely unintelligible in his direction, and tips her face further into her pillow.

Henry chuckles, leaning down, hand still holding hers, and kisses her hair. He whispers his apologies like sweet nothings in her ear, and brushes lightly at her hair, trying to lull her back to sleep. Elizabeth does not seem to be having it though. Her hands move first, fingers searching for him, leaving his hand and gripping when they find his chest. Her eyes blink once, twice, three times and she’s squinting up at him, edging herself closer to him.

“Youhaventsleptyet,” she slurs in her sleepy stupor.

“What was that?” He asks, lowering himself down onto his side, and taking her warm form into his arms. She nestles against him, burying her face in his chest and God, if he doesn’t count his blessings each night he gets to sleep next to her. A wonder of a woman, beauty and intellect, she is a woman ancient worlds would have gone to war over and he- Henry McCord, gets to be the one to hold her in his arms.

“I said,” she mutters, his shirt muffling her words, “You haven’t slept yet?”

She peeks up at him as she waits for her answer. Her electric eyes sending a shiver through him as he buries his hand further in her hair, scooping at the base of her neck. Remarkable, truly remarkable. He can’t help himself- swoops down and steals a kiss, languid and soft. Her lips part for his routinely, and she lets out a little sigh that reverberates against him. When he breaks away, she nudges her nose against his cheek. Her eyes having fluttered closed again, so she stays there, skin to skin, taking him in with her other senses.

“What was that for?”

“I’m sorry,” Henry laughs, an airy exhale of breath type of chuckle, telling her, “I’ve just been watching you- quite enviously- sleeping, and you’re so…” words fail and so he simply shakes his head, letting out a breath. “I just couldn’t take it anymore.”

blank space - ryan adams (taylor swift cover)

The Bench 

Fandom: Parks and Rec 

Pairing: Ben and Leslie 

Rating: A light mature. 

Warnings: Lacks plot or any kind of conflict. Also Ben has tattoos. 

Summary: Leslie's enjoying her lunch and the splendor of the national mall when he  sits down next to her, opens his take out container and answers his ringing telephone.- AKA the one where Leslie works for the NPS and Ben is Josh Lyman. 

well fuck

I hate him. 

galentines replied to your post “Wow (Guardian Angel Leslie verse)”

!!!!!

ashishorny replied to your post “Wow (Guardian Angel Leslie verse)”

I WANT HIM DEAD WHAT THE FUUUUUUUUUUCK. this is such perfection

I UNDERSTAND. 

c00kie28 replied to your post “Wow (Guardian Angel Leslie verse)”

i hate him so much

He’s the worst. 

c00kie28 replied to your post “Bar Down - hands”

OMFG

:)

sandwichbasedworldview replied to your post “Wild - Sailor Boy (if I'm not too late)”

SWEET AVA

I KNOW. 

c00kie28 replied to your post “Wild - Sailor Boy (if I'm not too late)”

my heart

He’s a good father, it’s terrible. 

sandwichbasedworldview replied to your post “Bar Down - hands”

Oh my god

Yup. 

ashishorny replied to your post “Bar Down - hands”

i am fucking dead this is incredible

STAY ALIVE

benjis-cool-times replied to your post “Bar Down - hands”

I approve of the smut writing ☺️