#have her partner and kids for a few more years technically

[tunedtostatic]

Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast, Essek Thelyss, Caleb Widogast, Ludinus Da'Leth, Fjord Stone, Jester Lavorre, Calianna Mordsson, Astrid Beck, Verin Thelyss, Eadwulf Grieve, Other(s), Angst, Coercion, Dunamancy (Critical Role), the Slumber form of a 9th-level Imprisonment is basically a Sleeping Beauty AU, not unreality per se but heads up for realityweirdness

Ludinus Da'Leth needs a dunamancer--any dunamancer, really--to cast a spell for him, and he knows just the Soltryce Academy professor to enchant if he wants a very talented chronurgist to do his bidding. Unfortunately for Ludinus, dunamancy extends beyond his understanding of it, hearts are more complicated than they appear, and the dunamancer he has found is about to defy his understanding of both.

[iceman-soup]

masc!reader × divorced!price

Knowing John Price from outside of the military - fuckin hell, knowing him from a toddlers' group of all places. You had both joined at roughly the same time, and being the only dads there rather than mums, you quickly stuck by each other, becoming fast friends since the first session.

Turns out, he'd had a shitty divorce a few years ago, and, well - his sweet baby girl got caught up in all the middle of it. She was a tiny baby at the time, but the legal stuff regarding her in the divorce was messy and Price barely managed to see her at all; and then her mother had been arrested for something or other (he didn't like to talk about it) and he had gained full custody, and arrangements were made for her to stay with his family whilst he was on deployment.

Your story was entirely different. The kid was technically your sister's - but she had died shortly after childbirth, and with no partner and an awful relationship with your parents, the two of you had agreed beforehand that if anything happened, you would become the baby's legal carer. But you'd called the boy yours after only a few months, and that's all you ever introduced him as now. Your son.

The toddler group wasn't great for either you nor Price, to be honest. The kids loved the playtime, which was good - but the parent "teachings" that the leader held were mostly encouraging weird outdated shit that wasn't worth listening to, let alone enforcing. Not to mention the constant repetition of how a single parent is a "bad" parent, which you scoffed at every time. Good thing about it was how you and John could sit at one of your houses after and shit talk it over a coffee.

Was he hot? Sure. Yes. Absolutely. It was the very first thing you noticed about him. But more than that you were genuinely grateful to have a friend; another single dad to lean on, to finally start talking about your sister's death and all the guilt you felt with your son. Someone who would actually get it.

Price started to come around to yours almost every day, even when the toddlers' group was only once a week. He insisted it was nicer than his flat, and the kids had more space to play anyway. You never minded. He took you over to his parents' house, introducing you to them. They were quick to befriend you and your child, mentioning how you should visit John's daughter there when he's on deployment.

Deployment. Forgot about that.

You laugh and nod, thanking them before you leave. You take your son to a play park and sit on a bench, watching him and just thinking. It doesn't take long til you realise you're thinking less about your friend being all captain-y and more about his smile you've come to adore being wiped from his face. About him coming home and there being more scars on his hands and arms than before. 'Cause you fucking counted. Realising he might not come home at all.

You go to his flat the next day, awkward small talk as the kids go off to play. He can tell something's up. He asks if it was his parents. Fucking apologises as if he did something wrong. You sit him down on the sofa, and rest your head on his shoulder.

"Dunno what to do," you start, eyes flickering shut when he combs a comforting hand through your hair. "You're such a great man, John. Dunno what I'd do if you went."

He looks at you for a moment; you can feel his gaze. Tilts your chin up with a calloused finger and brushes his lips against yours. It takes a second or two to process what's happening - and then you're kissing him again, his jacket balled up in your fists as you hold him closer, suddenly realise this is what it was all along. The hot, slightly traumatised dad had tripped you up and you fell fuckin hard.

All too quickly and you're lowering him down against the sofa, and his hands are on your back, and your tongue is prodding impatiently at his lip. Then he opens his mouth and you almost seem to melt into it, a soft groan in his throat, and you're lying on top of him, and his legs are around your waist-

"I'm not complaining," you hum between kisses, "but how is making out gonna help?"

He breaks apart. Looks at you with a sort of dog-like curiosity, mulling over the question for a second. Then his hands snake up to rest in your hair, and he smiles his signature smile. "Don't know. Just thought I wanted to kiss you. Won't fix me goin' on deployment, but-" he glances away, a flush creeping up his neck, "thought... thought you might be somethin' to come back to, y'know?"

You chuckle quietly, pressing your lips to his blush. "You askin' me out, John?" He kisses you tenderly, shuffling to sit up a little, pulling you onto his lap facing him.

"If you'll take me."

And you don't even have to think about it. "'Course I will."

[robinofgothamcity]

“I can show you that not all men are like that.”

Character: Damian Wayne/Robin

Authors note: most likely not reviewed for spelling errors or mistakes lmfao, this is more of a blurb tbh. In the middle of writing this, I caused a gigantic spill all over my side table and onto my carpet so I was over it lmfao. I’m sorry that it isn’t longer :( I hope all of you have a safe and exciting new years! Let���s hope 2025 treats everyone with happiness and respect <3

Being Jon’s best friend and longtime partner, it was easy to tell when Jon was distracted and other times, it was very easy to get distracted with him. Today was one of those days where you and Jon were just being menaces to everyone that was around the two of you. You had known Jon since you entered the league under Dinah’s wing. From that point, you and him stuck to each other which made it seem like the two of you were more of siblings than friends and when Damian walked into the picture, you knew that you hit a certain nerve every time you were being particularly loud and obnoxious.

You walked into the lair hoping that Jon would be there, under the guise of seeing if he had down some of the work done that the two of you shared for a college class. The two of you went to a local college in Smallville and even though you were both getting different degrees, required classes had the two of you stuck in general English class together.

“Damian!” You said as you noticed his boots at the door, “my lovely friend who admits to hating me but secretly doesn’t!” You sang as you walked into the common area. You saw that him looking through his computer, half annoyed and angry.

“Where’s Jon, I need him,” you finally said. Damian pointed at the computer that showed that Jon was out on a mission to which he didn’t tell either of you, “that little fucking rat, are you kidding me?” You said rhetorically, “he didn’t tell he was out on a mission for an entire week! We were assigned as partners this week,” you added on.

Damian scoffed, “who do you think got assigned to Gotham until he returns?” You pushed him out of the way as you read that you were assigned to do patrols with Damian until Jon came back to help you patrol Smallville. You stomped on the ground like an angry toddler realizing you’d be out of your house all week, “I could cry, who assigned me here and why didn’t they think to tell me?” You asked. Damian giggled as you realized that Jon must’ve put you in his place until he came back.

“Well, I guess I have to hang around here all week,” you said in a huff, “gut I guess there’s one good thing about this, you’ll be stuck with me!” You added as you turned around to Damian and started giggling.

By that point, Bart and Cassie walked in as she ran over to you, “did you go on the date with that guy from your accounting class?” She asked as she practically dragged you to the couch, “yeah but it was a blow. The typical college guy as you can expect except this time, the moron decided it’d be a good idea to leave me the bill from dinner and not come back.”

Damian, Bart, and Jaime who had walked down the stairs a few moments before stared at you in shock.

“What? I never said that my love life was skyrocketing in success,” you said in annoyance. Damian put his hand up to pause you, “you’re meaning to tell me the guy left you with the bill and left without a goodbye?” You nodded in agreement, still confused as to what he was trying to insinuate, “and this normal?”

You thought for a moment, “well, the last two guys, one stood me up before I could go on the date and the other guy ghosted me at the restaurant so technically this is a first for me,” you recalled. The boys, who were now hanging their heads in disappointment couldn’t help but sigh, “listen, this conversation was between Cas and I. Why are all of you so interested now?” You asked, popping in a piece of candy Bart had left on the table.

Cassie rolled her eyes as she looked back at you, “Well, what about Jon’s friend? Weren’t the two of you just texting?” You rolled your eyes, “he’s a nice guy but definitely just a friend. I think I’m doomed and there’s no love in my future.”

Before anyone else could say anything, your communicators had went off indicating that you and Damian were now scheduled to patrol. You went over to Damian and jumped on his back, instantly getting a shout from the boy, “do you ever think she’ll realize that Damian likes her?” Bart asked Cassie. Cassie laughed dramatically, “not in a million years unless something or someone makes it click in her head.”

-

It wasn’t often that you and Damian patrolled together and the times that you did, Jon was usually came along. You didn’t hate Damian but you could tell that he wasn’t exactly your biggest fan. You wondered if this was because of your relationship with Jon or if you were just too loud and obnoxious for his liking. You knew Damian barely tolerated Jon at first but the two of you had known each other for years now and it definitely seemed like there was a dislike from Damian to you.

“So, you go any other unfortunate dates to share to the class?” Damian mocked. You rolled your eyes, not in the mood to deal with his obnoxious attitude, “well, not that I’d ever share that with you but yes I do. I have a case of bad luck in the romance department,” you admitted hoping that he’d get off your case.

Damian didn’t say a thing for a moment.

“Well, what’s the worse?” He asked. You thought a few minutes until you started laughing in embarrassment and slight annoyance, “well, I can see why you’d make fun of me for this but I think the worst date I ever went on was last year. I matched with a guy on this app and we went out to dinner only for the idiot to not realize that his girlfriend’s best friend worked at the restaurant. In my defense, I clearly didn’t realize that he was cheating on her with me so you can imagine the look I had on my face when the girl smacked him and proceeded to berate him in front of the entire restaurant.”

Damian stared at you in shock, not really knowing what to say.

“I thankfully got off lucky when I told her that I didn’t know he was cheating but it was still embarrassing nonetheless,” you continued. Damian looked into the alley, hoping that no one heard what he was about to say. Damian sighed knowing what he was about to say was coming out like word vomit, “well, I can show you that not all men are like that.”

You gave him a look of confusion.

“Listen, I know I haven’t been the nicest to you and you’re not that stupid to not realize it,” you flicked him in the forehead as he continued, “but I figured I’d rather be the one to show you that some men are actually good out there.”

“Wait, this isn’t you pitying me, is it? Because if it is, I’m going to kick you ass,” you said taking out your baton and swinging it in the air. Damian lowered the baton and gave you a sincere look, “I’m not kidding. Tomorrow after patrol, we can switch shift with Tim and Steph and I’ll take you out.”

You couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief.

“If you end up backing out last minute, Batman is going to be down a son.”

Damian flicked you on the forehead as he assured you that this time, maybe you weren’t going to be so unlucky.

[withwritersblock]

Think Later

~think later by Tate McRae~

Author's Note: Requested! I love this song so mf much Summary: Jack and Luke's sister is in town to visit when she finds a different Devil's player more interesting Warnings: implied smut, a very brief mention of toxic relationships Word Count: 1,585 Nico Hischer vs. Hughes fm!reader

Jack pulled his gear from his shoulders, letting out a huff of air. The team had beaten the Bruins in a 4-2 win. Where he scored two goals. He was excited to get out of the locker room because his older sister was in town. Her flight landed an hour before the game started, she barely had to time to go to Jack’s apartment and drop her bag off. 

“You guys going to Jerry’s?” Nico asked. It was bar and restaurant that the team liked to go to after they won games. Or even after horrible losses. Jack shot a look towards Luke across the room. Luke took a deep breath.

“Our sister is in town, she might want to just go home,” Jack offered. Nico perked upward, a smirk toyed to his lips. 

It was safe to say, he has crushed on Y/N since the first time he met her. It was during Jack’s rookie season, she stayed with Jack for a few weeks. Jack was struggling emotionally for a lot of his rookie year, and having his older sister in town was simply enough to help him get through it. 

“Don’t even think about it,” Jack pointed towards Nico. The locker room was pretty empty at this point, most of the guys had showered and left already. Luke furrowed his eyebrows harshly as he whipped his head around. 

“I wasn’t-” Nico started but Luke interrupted.

“She just got out of a relationship,” Luke let out as he walked towards Nico. 

“I said I wasn’t thinking about it,” Nico defended as he ran his fingers through his hair, “I’m gonna hit the showers,” Nico continued as he had a small smirk on his lips. 

It took another twenty minutes before both Jack and Luke left the locker room to see their older sister Y/N waiting for them. Luke smiled widely as he quickly made his way towards her. She gladly opened her arms for her youngest brother. 

She was technically the oldest. She was older than Quinn by twelve minutes. A fact she constantly reminded Quinn of. She was the only Hughes kid that lacked any interest in hockey, other than her brothers playing. She was a theatre kid, which was a complete one-eighty to what her parents childhoods were like. Her brothers were always more than supported. 

She felt teary-eyed as she engulfed her younger brother in a tight hug. This was the first time she saw Luke play in person in the Devils jersey. Her ex-boyfriend was a really difficult guy and wouldn’t let her travel on her own. He never wanted to spend the money to travel, so she never went to see the games. She was tightly wrapped her arms around his neck tightly. 

“Good job, Lukey Boy,” she let out as she pulled away meeting his eye. He smiled softly as he blinked away his own tears in his eye. She moved away from Luke towards Jack. “What a game, J,” she mumbled as she hugged him tightly. 

“Thanks, how are you feeling? Up for Jerry’s?” he said as he pulled away, his eyes slightly teary. She nodded dramatically. 

“Oh god, my rich brothers buying me drinks all night? How could I say no?” she asked as she stared walking towards the parking garage, blindly hoping they’d show her where Luke’s car was.

~~ 

They stepped into Jerry’s to see the entire bar was the team and their partners. The three of them walked towards the bar. Nico was sitting alone, nursing a beer as he kept his gaze on the TV screen replaying their game. It was in the middle of the first period. Jack patted on his shoulder, pulling his attention towards him. 

“Nico, you remember our sister, Y/N!” he let out loudly, over the noise of the bar. Nico met Jack’s eye for a second before he turned his gaze towards Y/N. Her eyes widened slightly as she met his gaze. The smirk on her lips quickly went away as fast as it appeared. Jack gave him a visual warning, a small head shake. “I’m gonna get us drinks, Lukey what do you want?” Jack shifted his attention towards Luke. 

“Nico, it’s nice to meet you again,” she offered as she stood beside him, close enough their arms could touch at any moment. He turned his gaze towards her, his heart beating hard against his chest.

“You too, Y/N,” he licked his lip as he shifted his gaze towards Jack and Luke behind her. 

“What do you want?” Jack asked smacking his hand against her back. She jolted suddenly, looking towards the bartender.

“Tequila soda extra lime, please,” she expressed. The bartender nodded as he began to work.

“Are you sure? Tequila may not-”

“Jack,” she scolded. He nodded reluctantly as he leaned against the bartop. Over his entire life, he knew to never argue with his older sister. She was feisty and could easily ruin him. She turned her gaze back towards Nico.

He never once looked away from her features. He couldn’t focus, he couldn’t breath as she was so stunning. She knew it too. The second she met Nico’s gaze, she pursed her lips forward. She tried to not smile. 

“Bold choice,” Nico muttered as he lowered his gaze towards her lips. They were glossed with a red color. She shrugged slightly. 

“Boring choice,” she pointed towards the beer in his hand. Nico dropped his head, a chuckle leaving his lips. “Trying to act all tough in front of your teammates?”

“I don’t need to try, I am,” he never wavered eye contact as he brought his beer towards his lips. He took a small sip. 

The bartender slid the tequila soda towards her. She smiled politely towards the bartender as she brought the glass towards her lips. Taking a sip, it tasted perfect.

“At least my drink has flavor,” she mumbled as she took another sip. Jack and Luke got their beers and were long gone, didn’t want to stay to witness Nico hit on their sister. Or even worse, their sister play along.

“It has flavor,” he defended, taking a sip of the beer. Cringing at the taste, her eyes widened as she chuckled. He smiled, “Didn’t say good flavor,”  

She leaned towards him, sliding her glass over, “Go ahead, try it,” she expressed. He clenched his jaw as he reluctantly placed his beer down. He hesitantly took a hold of the short glass. “Come on it’s so good,” she offered as she delicately rested her hand onto his forearm. He smirked towards her as he took a small sip. He quickly pulled his face away, his face scrunch together.

“Oh that’s awful,” he barely got out. 

“Oh come on!” she groaned out as she pulled the glass towards her, “You’re joking,” she let out. He shook his head, quickly pulling beer towards his lips.

“No, that was horrible,”

It had been an hour since she showed up to the bar, and it was pretty obvious that her and Nico were into one another. Jack would show up between them every so often, trying to shut down whatever was happening but it wasn’t working. 

“You know, I’m not supposed to be talking to you,” Nico let out as he tilted his head to the side. He scraped at the label of his beer bottle. She squinted her eyes slightly.

“Why’s that?” she pulled her lip gloss from her front pocket and slowly started applying it to her lips. 

“Jack doesn’t want me involved with you,” he let out. She rolled her eyes dramatically. 

“He can’t control who I talk to, or who I get involved with,” she explained confidently. She shoved her lip gloss back into her pocket as she hopped off the stool. She seductively ran her hand across his arm, slowly gripping his bicep. 

“I live across the street,” he mumbled as he lowered his gaze towards her lips. She nodded as she slowly ran her hand down his arm again, interlocking her fingers with his. 

“I just got out of a bad relationship,” she explained, meeting his gaze, “Bad in more ways than one,” she let out. Hoping he caught on. He nodded as he cleared his throat. 

“Come on,” he mumbled as he stood up from his stool, guiding her towards the bar exit. Y/N’s met Luke’s gaze from across the bar.

He tried to hold in his laughter as he watched Nico drag Y/N out of the bar. Luke smacked his hand against Jack’s arm. Jack and Dawson both shifted their gaze towards Luke. “Caps hooking up with our sister,” he let out, subtly pointing towards Y/N stepping out of the bar. He started laughing. Dawson tried to keep his laughter inside as he saw Jack’s angry expression.

“That motherfuc-”

Nico continued guiding Y/N across the street towards his apartment complex. They stepped into the lobby, he nodded towards the receptionist as he walked towards the elevator. He pressed the up button multiple times. 

“Think once is enough,” she whispered. He rolled his eyes playfully as the doors opened. He took a hold of her waist, pulling her inside. 

“Once is never enough,” he muttered as he pressed the button to his floor. He quickly guided her towards the back of the elevator, devouring her lips in the process.

“Oh my god,” she mumbled against his lips as she ran her fingers through the ends of his hair.

[primussavethesemechs]

I want the human/cybertronian life difference to be talked about more in canon

Cuz I mean. it’s RIGHT THERE.

Just a smidgen of true acknowledgment I BEG YOU HASBRO‼️

i mean come on all it takes is someone mentioning how long the wars been going for one of the humans to go “4 MILLION YEARS???? WHAT THE FUCK HOW OLD ARE YOU???”

And optimus or ratchet to be like “…5/7 million?” And all of the humans to have a break down CUZ WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOUVE BEEN ALIVE SINCE BEFORE THE HUMAN SPECIES EXISTED??? WE WERE MONKEYS WHEN YOU WERE BORN???

And the (woefully uniformed) cybertronians to be like “??? What do YOU mean your species was still evolving when I onlined, how long do you guys live?? A thousand?? A few hundred??”

And the gobsmacked humans to be like “??? NO WE HARDLY LIVE OVER A HUNDRED ITS CONSIDERED AN ACCOMPLISHMENT?? AVERAGE OLD AGE DEATH IS LIKE MID 80s!! TECHNICALLY THE AVERAGE LIFE SPAN IS 72 OR SOMETHING???”

Cue the autobots being like “😨 72??? THATS A CHILD WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT⁉️”

the more attached/emotional bots looking at their charges and realizing that not only are they sparklings compared to them but they’ll die as sparklings too in just a few decades, causing them to straight up have a mini meltdown.

Yeah they’re in a war and they’ve lost plenty of friends, but never to anything as predictable and inescapable as old age.

It’s the seeing-it-coming part that gets to them, the slow dread of knowing that even if they do everything right and keep them out of danger and they stay healthy there’s nothing they can do to stop them from withering away in a couple of decades.

Most versions of bumblebee looking at their charge/friend and realizing his assumptions about the fact that since they’re both still young that they’ll have plenty of time to just. Live together and have fun- are wrong?? Immediately tears. Even if cybertronians can’t cry tears he’s doing whatever the equivalent is and running away to cry in his room. And then running back to snatch them and take them with him cuz HE CANT WASTE A SECOND IF THEIR LIFESPANS ARE REALLY THAT SHORT HES GONNA JUST HAVE TO SPEND 24/7 WITH THEM

This whole concept ESPECIALLY applies to TFP since all of them got their own little human buddy and there’s only like 5 autobots to begin with (of the main season 1 crew) they’ve lost so many of their own so recently, their numbers are already dwindling down to nothing, they’re losing the war and the kids are what’s given them a major morale boost. To continue fighting they need hope, and the kids have kind of become their hope for the future- to know they’ll die off in under a century despite how young they still are is a shot to the spark.

Look me in the eye and tell me bee wouldnt panic hearing that Raf only has 70-80 years to live. LOOK ME IN THE EYE AND TELL ME HE WOULDNT HAVE SOME KIND OF FIT OVER BEING TOLD THAT HIS LITTLE BUDDY (from a cybertronian perspective) HAS A LIFESPAN EQUIVALENT TO A LATE STAGE TERMINAL ILLNESS DIAGNOSIS. Bee would start treating Raf like a kid with stage 4 cancer 😭

I just KNOW bulkhead would have the worst reaction other than bee, maybe even worse cuz he looks at miko and realizes she’s used up basically a fifth of her entire lifespan already and she’s Still So Little and straight up starts weeping. That’s his DAUGHTER you can’t take her from him so soon it’s not FAIR! He might have to go destroy a canyon wall or something to let some of the anger and grief out

Arcee is Not taking it well either.

She JUST got attached to this one, just got used to a new partner and your telling her that no matter what she does he’s never going to last as long as tailgate of cliff jumper did?? Even if both he and she do everything they’re supposed to do to protect him and extended his life?? Depression time baby

Optimus and ratchet don’t react as much outwardly to the news as the others but inside they’re both 💔💥

These kids have brought optimus a level of contentment he hasn’t felt in vorns, and he sees how bright their spirits shine- Only to now know those precious spirits will burn out in less than a century- it gnaws at him inside, yet another strike from the cruelty of fate

Ratchet is devastated but refuses to acknowledge it, these kids- yes even miko- have become his pseudo grandkids and he’s not ready, nor will he ever be ready, to outlive them. Jacks reminds him too much of a younger optimus, still learning and still hopeful. Miko is… well she has a fire to her that ratchet can appreciate (when she’s not actively annoying him) she’s determined enough to make anything happen which he does begrudgingly respect even if he wishes she wouldn’t just throw herself into any and every situation just for fun.

And Raf…

Raf is his apprentice, the only one of the kids to understand him and listen intently to his stories of cybertron. To show appreciation for his work and his ideas, to Listen and Learn and Improve his inventions. He harbors the most fondness for Raf since he sees so much potential in him, and has taken him under his wing in teaching him cybertronian language and biology.

He feels almost like he’s training a student to take his place- only for the ground to be ripped out from under him to know that Raf will never have the chance to succeed him, will never even outlive him.

A parent should never have to bury their child, and ratchet already feels that he has.

-

TLDR the autobots find out humans have fruit fly lifespans next to them and become one big soggy mess of tears, optimus and ratchet included although they try to have a stiff upper lip about it (and fail to varying extents)

I swear this was supposed to be about any and all continuities but TFP took over completely😭 idk it just fits the best since they focus so much on how attached the bots get to the kids

Edit: btw this was inspired from the fact I found out that the cybertronian equivalent to a year (yes I know technically they have solar cycles which are roughly a human year but what they consider a year vs their lifespan/time perception is different) is a vorn. A vorn is 80 HUMAN YEARS. I saw that and went “oh wow a vorn is like a whole human lifespan!😃” and then I went “OH A VORN IS A WHOLE HUMAN LIFESPAN 😀“

[justkending]

Mr. & Mrs. Hunt (Bonus Chapter)

Mini-Series Summary: Two of the most stubborn people in the group partnered together for an undercover mission are also the two people with the most hatred for each other, so what could go wrong? Or is it, what COULDN’T go wrong?…

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger Reader (Enemies to Lovers) (Fake Marriage Trope)

Word Count: 3700+

A/N: I got some motivation for a bonus chapter and a lot of you guys reached out asking about some. So here is a cute little side story with the two! I hope you guys enjoy it while I take my time getting through all my other WIP!🥰

______________

Bucky’s POV: 

The mission yesterday was brutal for the team—so much so that Tony vogued for us and ensured we’d have the next two days without any form of work to interrupt our much-needed break. That meant we were off-duty, unless a world-ending turn of events came up, for the next 48 hours—starting the morning after we got home from said brutal mission. 

My first stop as soon as I got up and around was Y/N’s room. She had left the field yesterday more beat up than any of us after she was cornered and her backup had fled. Something I was royally pissed about, but it was some lower agent she was paired with to train. I offered, considering the kid was known for being squeamish, and it was originally meant to be a low-level operation. But apparently, someone with a gentler and friendlier disposition was preferred for the agent's training lesson. But of course, the tides turned, and Y/N was left on her own fighting off a dozen armed men, yet unsurprisingly, she came out on top. 

Although she claimed the various cuts, bruises, and pulled muscles in her quad were manageable, I knew she would be horribly sore today and, therefore, grumpy—understandably so. 

I thought I’d get a head start on helping her, considering things have grown between us since our first date two months ago. 

We hadn’t made it official, and we were taking it slow since there was so much to learn about each other after years of distancing ourselves from one another. 

We’ve had as many dates as time allowed since then, and the team has caught on, but again, we’re taking it slow. So slow, in fact that we kept to our respective rooms for personal space outside of movie nights, considering we lived together for almost a month and technically still do live together, even if across from the hall. We saw each other all the time, and we thought it best that we hold on to that piece of individuality at the start of our relationship so as not to rush anything. 

But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find any chance I could to come hang out with her in her room and spend time with her as often as I could. I meant it back at the house when I said I envied my teammates for getting to experience a version of her that actually like you as a person. The change in pace has been eye-opening, and I’ve become somewhat addicted to the time I spend with her now. 

“One second!” I heard from the other side of the door after I knocked, and the tone alone showed me she was not happy. 

“I brought you some breakfast and pain meds, Y/N/N,” I said into the barrier. Seconds later, the door unlocked, and a battered Y/N looked up at me miserably. “Hey, sweetheart.” I couldn’t help the pout in my lip seeing my girl beat up. 

There was bruising under her eye, a butterfly stitch on her cheekbone, and a few bruises visible on her legs where she was wearing one of the biggest t-shirts she owned as a nightgown. 

“How bad does it look? I’ve been inching out of bed for the last 10 minutes because of how stiff I feel, and I haven’t made it to the bathroom to look,” she cringed as she rubbed the uninjured side of her face in exhaustion.

“You make black eyes look hot,” I answer, leaning to kiss the top of her head as I sneaked past her into the apartment and move to the kitchenette on the side. 

We all have a fully functioning studio apartment at the compound, but since we share the main spaces of the living room and kitchen, our personal ones are much smaller and more so for convenience than anything else. 

“Appreciate that, but also, I’d rather put on a sexy dress to look hot than get punched by a 250 lbs man with a mean right hook,” she sighed, shuffling to follow after me and sit at the end of her bed as she watched me plate a breakfast burrito and a fruit parfait. 

“Sexy dress or not, you exceed the threshold in the looking hot category no matter what.” I’m lucky enough to get a soft chuckle from her as she pulls a blanket from her bed and wraps it around her body, snuggling close to it with a few grunts and moans of pain. “Outside of that, I’m going to hunt down that twirp from yesterday and give him a nice talking-to about leaving your partner in the dust.” I look up and point to her with a spoon before stabbing it into the yogurt and bringing it to her. 

“Honestly, if I hadn’t seen worse, I would have run the other direction, too,” she wiggled an arm free to grab the cup and thanked me before continuing. “For it being one of their first onsite missions, seeing a dozen armed bodyguards, and not one of them being under 200 lbs running full force at you? I’d be surprised if he didn’t shit his pants on the way out.”

I laughed at the image since Y/N and I had seen far worse, and what she was describing was just another Tuesday to us. 

“Regardless, you don’t leave your teammates to fend for themselves. Especially in that scenario. He could have at least grabbed you and ran the other way,” I mumbled, grabbing my burrito from the counter and moving to sit with her on the bed. 

“Grabbed me and run?” she scoffed, swirling the fruit and granola together. “You’re a funny man, Barnes.” 

“You know what I mean,” I shoulder bump her lightly, and she sighs, digging into the breakfast. “Meds the Doc prescribed you are on the counter. You need to take them with food 2x a day to keep the pain at bay.”

“It’s fine. The pain is manag-”

“If you say manageable, I’m going to make you walk from this side of the room to your bathroom and prove you’re fine. Meaning, no cringing, limping, or grunts in the process.”

She stared at me in a challenging manner. That much had not changed in our relationship whatsoever. I just didn’t get death glares with them anymore.

“I can walk to my bathroom just fine,” she rolls her eyes, staying stationary and distracting herself with breakfast. 

“Sure you can,” I nodded, taking a bite of my own and keeping my eyes solely on her. 

I could tell she was growing squirmish under my gaze. The uncomfortability matched with uncertainty in her claim. I mean, come on. She gave it away that she wasn’t fine when she said it took her 10 minutes to ease out of bed. 

“Stop staring at me,” she grumbled, lazily eating to drag out her inevitable defeat. 

I hummed, standing and moving to grab some hot sauce in her cabinet. “Oh, by the way, the team’s doing a day of pool Olympics tomorrow. Sam’s asked for a rematch in chicken.”

“As long as I get a rematch in categories.”

“Yeah, I don’t think you’re going to be participating in the games much,” I scrunched my nose at her with a grin before taking a giant bite.

“By tomorrow, I’ll be back to new,” she groaned and stood up too fast, stilling herself, seeing she’d overdone it. But not wanting to get caught, she played it off as stretching and taking her time. “I have an above-average healing rate, after all.” 

“Maybe, but not nearly as fast as I’d prefer,” I placed the meal back on my plate and wiped my hands off on a towel before coming to her side to help her take some weight off her bad leg.

“As you’d prefer? Please do elaborate on what you’d prefer, Sarge?” The cockiness in her voice made me look down at her and grin at her orneryness. 

“You know I’d prefer you wrapped up in bubble wrap and in a magic forcefield the rest of your life that keeps you out of harm's way. I’ve never liked seeing you hurt or in pain. But unfortunately, due to realism and already trying to do that with Steve, I know it's not attainable,” I answered, both hands on her shoulders. Now, let me take this.” I quickly grabbed the parfait and placed it on the counter before offering my arm. 

“I can walk to the bathroom on my own.”

“Standing showed me otherwise.”

“Are you going to hold my hand while I pee too?” 

“If you asked me, I 100% would. But knowing you, you’re a little too stubborn for that,” I winked as she walked with more weight on me than she’d care to confess. 

“Just a little,” she grunts when she loses her footing, and I catch her. 

“Hm, about that help…”

“Shut it,” she mumbles and shuts the door behind her as she gets ready for the day.

_______________

“Where’s Y/N at?” Wanda asked, meeting me in the hall and following after me. 

“Med bay. I made her go get a check-up with Banner since she’s hellbent on playing in the water games tomorrow,” I answered once she was by my side, my stride slowing so she could catch up. 

“Do you think she’ll actually listen to anything he says if he doesn’t give her the all-clear?” she asked with a laugh. 

“Doubtful, but I can be hopeful.”

“Things are going well for you two then, huh?” I could hear the grin in her voice before I looked down at her. “Crazy to think, considering just a few months ago, I wouldn’t hold it against her to have your head on a plaque hanging in her room just because you looked at her wrong.”

“Crazy the things a little communication can do,” I winked and threw an arm around her shoulders before squeezing her into my side. “That and patience. Lots and lots of patience.” 

“You do have a surprising amount of that stuff in ya, big guy,” she patted my chest as we turned to the hall where Y/N was. 

“Ow, son of a bitch!” sounded from the corner of Banner’s office, and we shared a look. “Obviously, that isn’t going to feel good, injured or not, Bruce!” 

“May need to save his ass,” Wanda whispered, and we hurried our steps to the space. 

Inside, Bruce was laughing as he logged in her symptoms and any other notes doctors take in these instances. 

“Just proving to you that playing any high-impact sports, which are almost any of the ones that include the team, isn’t going to help the healing process,” he told her as she rubbed her thigh with the heel of her hand. 

“Sam told me he doesn’t plan on holding back,” Wanda cut in just as I saw Y/N rearing up to retort something to the scientist. “Something about revenge for the last time we held a water Olympics.” 

“Empty threats,” Y/N sighed, turning to me. I was still getting used to the fact that I caused her body to ease tension rather than create it now. “Banner gave me the all clear,” she says to me in a very convincing way... If I wasn’t a trained spy. 

“I did not,” Bruce was quick to turn and shake his head.

“Don’t listen to him. He doesn’t even know what a vastus lateralis is!” she pointed and thought about hopping off the medical table she was on but realized the fast movement would only prove Banner’s point. 

“Um, I very much do know what the vastus lateralis is, considering I just told you you strained yours, and it needs to heal fully before you take on any high-mobility actions. You’re the one who asked if it was a witch incantation,” Bruce pointed a pen at her and moved back to his floating screens. 

“Can confirm it is not a witch incantation,” Wanda spoke up, moving to Y/N’s side by the medical equipment table and started playing with the tools. 

“Who’s side are you on?” she furrowed her eyes at the redhead, and I moved to lean on the table next to her, my thigh touching her knees hanging over the edge of the stainless steel. “I really think he’s exaggerating. I can walk on it and everything just fine.” 

Her eyes are leveled with mine while she’s sat higher up, and she gives me pathetic puppy dog eyes like it’ll sway me. And it almost does, but I cup her face in between my hands and squeeze so that her lips are pursed. 

“Nice try. Not going to work on me, doll,” I grin and kiss her nose before turning back to Banner. “How long are we talking about being fully healed? I don’t know how much more gaslighting I can take about her pain level.” I get a swift smack to my shoulder, but it barely stings. I grab her uninjured leg and squeeze her kneecap as she leans on my shoulder for support. 

“With her enhanced healing, I’d give it about three to five days before it’s healed enough for training or anything else. For any other normal person, it would be about a six-week process. Count yourself lucky,” Banner answers, only looking back for a second. 

“Still bullshit,” she grumbles and fidgets with the sleeve of my t-shirt. “So are you saying I have to be a bystander for tomorrow’s games?” 

“And quite possibly be benched for the coming week. Meaning no more missions until you’re given the all clear,” Banner turns around at his last statement. 

“Wait, what?!” 

“You heard me. You just don’t like what you heard,” he smirks. 

“I don’t quite like you right now, Bruce…” she says lowly, collapsing her head on my shoulder and groaning. 

“Don’t worry,” I turn and offer a hand for her to get down, which she stares at and reluctantly hops down. “I’ll make sure to kick Sam’s ass for you tomorrow in place of you. You know it’d be more than an honor for me.” 

“I fear he may kill him,” Wanda adds, walking to the other side of Y/N. 

“Compared to what I was planning, it would be a mercy.” 

____________

Y/N’s POV

To say I was pissed about the current circumstances would be putting it lightly. I hate being benched, and like anyone, I hate being injured. 

Call it past trauma I may never fully grow out of, but being the weak link made me anxious and antsy. It was like being the runt in a litter of pigs. It can’t fend for itself and tends to meet the slaughterhouse sooner than its friends. 

All that to say, I didn’t take help well while in this state either. But for some odd reason, Bucky’s aid wasn’t unwelcomed. 

Did I give him a hard time? Hard not to. Did he laugh it off and match my energy? 1000%, and I couldn’t be more thankful. It’s made this a touch more bearable, knowing he doesn’t pity me or see me as a weakling but just wants to help get me back to my best. 

And 3-5 days is doable, considering the alternative was over a month…

“Did you take your meds?” Bucky asked, letting himself into my room after a long day. Thankfully, we had another day of resting and for me, it looked like a week of resting. 

“Taken and pumping through my veins,” I give him a thumbs up as I lazily scroll through the streaming services as we set up for a lowkey movie night. “Are these the loopy kinds?” 

“Most opiates are, unfortunately,” he chuckles, placing the take-out bags he had grabbed downstairs on the coffee table. “What time did you take them?

He pulls out his phone and goes to the notes app. I know he has been making detailed notes on my meds, pain levels, doctor’s visits, and any other ailments I complain about. It’s really sweet, and surprisingly, I don’t find it overbearing like I thought I would. It’s nice having someone look out for you in a genuine way. 

“About ten minutes ago, so 6:30,” I pat the seat beside me. “Come on. I need your decisiveness on what movie we should watch tonight.”

He laughed while typing the details into his phone before putting it on the table, sitting next to me, opening the bags, and creating a nice little family buffet of Thai food in front of us. 

I watched him as I had become fond of these last few months. When I see him do the things he does for others and me, I internally punch myself for letting hatred keep me from such a man this long. 

“Question,” I asked, and he hummed, handing me a carton of low mein and grilled chicken. He stabbed two chopsticks into the food, and turned back for his own before leaning back and relaxing finally. “If things were different. If you never had to enlist for the war… What would have done for yourself?” 

“You mean like…”

“What job field would you have gone into?”

He nods his head as he considers the question and takes a large bite of pad thai. 

“I’m not sure… I don’t think I’ve ever really considered it. Especially since war has always been a thing, and given the era I was born into, I had just accepted I was going to be thrown into the military at some point.” 

“Well, that’s sad,” I crinkled my nose and the ache from my black eye had dulled thanks to my faster healing. “You didn’t consider any other paths?” 

“I mean, not realistic ones. I probably would have gone into business of some kind. Sales, maybe?” he said more as a question and poked around at his food. “I doubt anything that would have brought me true joy.” 

“Ok, then. What about now? If things were different, and you had complete freedom to live a normal life, like Beau Hunt,” I nudged him, and he laughed, leaning closer to me on the couch. “What career would you choose?” 

He thought about it, looking down at his food and then at the wall ahead of him. 

“If you’re asking me about today? As in this very moment?” 

“I am.”

“I’d say a chef.” 

I paused, not 100% prepared for that answer, but also not shocked by it. I didn’t reply instantly and felt him turn his gaze to me. 

“Didn’t expect that?” he asks. 

“Just imagining it,” I grinned, digging back into my cardboard carton as I pictured the dreamboat of a man next to me in an episode of The Bear. “I like it.” 

“Think I can get a Michelin-star type of restaurant going?” he hummed, a grin evident in his voice. 

“I don’t think that would be your scene. I could see you in a cool, locally owned, and homey restaurant. A staple piece in Brooklyn where everyone would come from all over to have the best comfort food the city would offer,” I smile at him, scooting down in my seat so I can rest my head on his shoulder.  

His head rested on top of mine after a quick kiss to the top of it. I treasured learning he actually loved showing affection in public, especially in the sweet and wholesome ways he went about it. 

“I can see that much more than what I said,” he laughed, and his body vibrated with the sound. “What about you? Different career choice, what would you choose?” 

“Hmm,” I snuggled more into him as I ate, and the screen on my TV went to screensaver mode. “I think something in social work. Given the things I’ve seen in the world, I’d be able to help kids in dangerous situations and homes get out of it.” He hums and chuckles some, making me look up at him. “What’s so funny about that?” 

“Not funny, just,” he chuckles again and looks at me from the side. “Of course, you’d want to go into the world and make a difference in it while I hole myself up in one spot and do background work for a living. In other words, the less I have to deal with people up front, the better, and the more people you can confront, the better.” 

“You’re a social person,” I laughed, sticking my chopsticks into his container for a taste. “I mean, you’re a better people person than you think.” 

“I have to build that relationship with people before I can become a ‘people person’. On the other hand, you can walk up to a stranger on the street and insert yourself into their life without hesitation.” 

“Maybe. But I also understand not wanting to do those things just cause it’s not your scene. I think our fake imaginary jobs are perfect for us.” 

“I was always envious that I wasn’t one of those people you approached and welcomed in,” he says, but not with annoyance and hurt, just stating a fact. 

“I was an asshole who allowed her backstory to control the present life she had made for herself. I wasn't too proud of that version of myself.”

Bucky turned his body to me, and I sat up. 

“As upset as I was about not getting the friendly treatment you gave to others, I’m happy to say I get to experience it now compared to never at all.” 

I stared into the blue eyes I knew would be my downfall as soon as I saw him for the first time. 

“Who knew force proximity would have this outcome?” 

“Not Nat or Tony. Oh, by the way, did I tell you Tony was in on the deal, too? Gave it three days and lost all his money before he even had a chance.” 

“Serves him right, betting on people’s downfall,” I nuzzled back into the couch as Bucky got comfortable again. “Speaking of… Wanna make a bet on how many games I can make Sam lose without even participating in the games?” 

“I will never not bet to see Sam lose. But I think I can beat you out on that deal, considering I will be in the games.”

“You’d like to think, wouldn’t you?” 

“Is that a challenge?” 

“A challenge would mean I have to have competition. That won’t be the case tomorrow,” I leaned forward, grabbing the remote from him and placing a soft kiss on his lips. 

“You’re much appreciated PDA isn’t going to make me take it any easier on you.” 

“No, no, no. We wouldn’t want that.”  

He laughed and leaned in for another kiss. The TV in front of us forgotten.

Marvel Tags:

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[tobifuyu]

I just want a baby with the right one

RAN HAITANI x f!reader

cw: domestic and tooth-rotting fluff, ran being a sappy dad, talks of pregnancy and marriage.

wc: 1,5k

a/n: this is the first part of a longer oneshot with more angst and (ofc) smut that I’m gonna post soon enough. enjoy the short fluff for the time being. I –technically– don’t like kids but I get such baby fever when I see happy families so this is me wishing I could have a partner as perfect as ran!

Stepping foot into a silent home usually meant Ran was asleep somewhere.

After removing your shoes and dropping your bag on the kitchen island, your hunch was confirmed to be right when you found his big body sprawled on your shared bed.

The image is nothing out of the ordinary for you, your sleepy husband can’t go much without his needed rest, especially without you around to keep him company.

Whether now, or five years prior, everything would still look the same: messy purple hair sparse against the white bedding, rosy lips parted as he takes deep breaths, and tattooed chest going up and down as he does.

There is only one stark difference, something that makes your lips curl in a soft smile as you take in the scene.

His arms are bent, creating a makeshift safety harness for the little body that is resting in the middle of his naked chest.

As you carefully and silently approach the bed, you start glimpsing the little face of the angel that your husband is embracing.

Her rosy cheeks resemble that of her father, and you fight the urge to grace them with a kiss in fear of waking her up.

For a moment, you think back to the phone in your purse and curse yourself for not taking it out sooner, wanting to take a picture of the sweet moment, but in the end deciding against going all the way to the kitchen just to come back to either of them having moved.

Ran blinks at you as the mattress dips under your weight. You gather he was just resting his eyes, clever and responsible enough not to fall asleep while holding his newborn daughter.

He raises one finger to his lips to gesture at you to remain silent, but you can’t contain your giggle as you’re filled with a bubbling sense of joy. Part of it is to be blamed on the few drinks you had catching up with your friends, but mostly it has grown inside of you while watching Ran gently rub your daughter’s back.

He rolls his eyes but can’t hide a grin at your behavior, and you bend down to kiss it away with a quick but sweet peck, “Thank you for looking after her.”

“You don’t have to thank me for being with my daughter. I’m her dad y’know?”

“‘course I know, baby. I was there when we made her,” another giggle, Ran has to fight the urge to shut you up with loads of kisses, but you both know he can’t move too much in this position.

So you lay by his side, head resting on his shoulder as you cast your glance towards the sleeping baby.

You can feel your heart clenching, every moment you’re not by her side is like torture. You enjoyed going out alone for once, but you missed the two of them like crazy and spent the whole night pestering your friends about it.

“Can’t believe she’s turning one month old tomorrow,” you whisper, hand raised to gently stroke at her scrunched-up forehead.

“Time goes by so fast,” the breath Ran takes fills his lungs so much you see your little one raising up and down.

“It’s okay, baby, one month is not the end of the world.” You’re trying to rationalize it for the sake of both of you, but you know how emotional your husband gets with these types of things.

The passing of time has never been something he particularly enjoys, not only dreading his getting older but also his brother’s. You recall watching him mop around the day before every single one of Rindou’s birthdays (he raised the boy, after all). So you already knew things would only get worse when it came to his own kid.

“Next thing you know she’s gonna turn twenty and walk out of the house with a partner who probably has one of those dumb jobs like influencers.”

“Hate the game, not the player. You’re a club owner, you literally make money off of ‘em.” You bop his nose with the tip of your finger and his neck muscles strain as he raises his head from the pillow while trying to bite at it.

“That’s why I’m saying it’s stupid,” he pouts. You swear, he’s become such a dad.

But you remember how scared he was when you first found out you were pregnant. You both were.

You didn’t plan for kids. Yeah, Ran had always dreamed of building a family of his own, but he had agreed with you that if you never felt ready, it would be okay.

The two of you were a family already, with Rindou popping by from time to time, and plans of getting a dog if you ever felt like shaking things up.

You were doing okay. Then it happened.

Both of you had always been so careful, so you reasoned that it was just meant to be.

Ran was scared of becoming a dad. He spent his early life taking care of Rindou, and he was fulfilled enough to just enjoy his adult years being with his wife. Traveling, clubbing, lazing in bed. The two of you only cared for one another and it was more than he thought he would ever get in life.

Ran’s pure excitement took over his fear pretty quickly, but he held it in for some time because he could tell how much more shaken up you were by the news.

You were not ready to become a mother, you didn’t think you had it in you. You could barely take care of yourself, how would you help in raising a baby? And it’s not like you could leave the job to Ran, he already had to deal with it alone once, you wouldn’t do such a thing to him again.

It took you some days to make your decision and come to peace with it, days where you closed up to Ran and laid alone in bed, thinking about how your body would change, how much pain you would have to endure, all the sacrifices and scary aspects of pregnancy and ultimately raising a human life.

Ran had come back from work one day and found you in the kitchen baking a cake, or rather trying to. Your cheeks were dusted with flour, and you were dipping a finger in the bowl filled with custard.

“Taste test?” He had asked with a raised brow while removing his coat and shoes at the door.

“Mh, I think our baby likes this one.”

“Do they now? Are you already blaming them for your cravings?” With lips curved in a smile, he had approached you slowly, holding out his arms as you sank into them, head resting on his jacket-covered shoulder.

“I was trying to bake a cake to celebrate our pregnancy. ‘m sorry it took me so long, Ran. I want this baby with you.”

Ran had held you a little tighter at that, softly stroking down the length of your hair while whispering reassuring promises in your ears, tears now wetting both of your faces.

“It’s gonna be okay, my love. As long as we’re together, everything is gonna be alright.”

“As long as we’re with her, everything is gonna be alright.” You repeat his words from then, staring up at his lilac eyes from under your lashes.

He’s already gazing down at you with a look that you know well by now, one that is filled with love and longing. No matter how close you are, Ran always seems to want you even closer.

“I love you, my sweet girl. I love both of you so much. I’m never leaving you, I promise.” He slithers one of his hands under your body, holding the back of your shoulder to keep you pressed against his side, all while softly caressing the skin, copying the movement he was drawing on the smaller back of your sleepy daughter, “Swear on my life.”

A short kiss is left on his collarbone by your lips before you bend down to sweetly press them on top of your daughter’s small head of light hair.

“Now tell me you love us too!” Ran whines and presses the side of his face against yours, squishing your cheeks together as little giggles shake both of your bodies. All the attempts at silencing him are worthless, and you’re forced to give in to his pleading as he starts tickling your side.

“Ran, I love you, baby! And I love our babygirl. I promise, you guys are my whole life.”

All that commotion must’ve finally woken up the tiny girl because the silent room is now filled with laughter and the cries of a baby that would’ve once annoyed you, but now sound like music to your ears.

In that moment you realize that your words aren’t just mindless and sweet-coated, a life without either one of them truly wouldn’t be worth living. And you decide to not give up your family for anything in the world.

[mariaofdoranelle]

Look at Us Now - ch. 27

Fic masterlist

Guys it’s 3 a.m. I’m posting my 1st draft and hoping for the best love y’all

Warnings: NSFW, Remelle and other bombs

Words: 3,7k

Aelin could kill Rowan right now, as he placed featherlight kisses on her shoulder.

“Go away,” she grumbled while burrowing herself further under the covers.

“Baby…” Rowan kissed her neck now, tugging her body into the hard lines of his. “You were the one who—“

“Don’t.” With graceless movements, she turned to be face-to-face with him. “You’re being a jerk right now, you know that?”

He chuckled, amusement crinkling his eyes. “I’m a jerk for doing as I’m told?”

“Alexa, what time is it?”

“It’s 4:48 a.m.,” Alexa replied.

Aelin readjusted the covers so the only thing visible was her glare.

Yes, it was technically her idea, but how dare he follow up with her plan. Sometimes 24 hours a day is not enough to raise a five-year-old, take care of yourself, work, and romance your partner—hence why last night, when Aelin was so tired her eyes felt glued together, she told Rowan to wake her up earlier to have sex.

Yes, they’ve struggled to find time for each other the last couple of weeks, but that does not excuse Rowan for agreeing to wake Aelin up before 5 a.m. He should know better.

She squeezed her eyes shut, his arms an okay weight around her—she was still mad—as Aelin tried to fall back asleep. And failed. She tossed and turned on bed, chasing her own sleep, to no avail.

“Fireheart,” Rowan said after she wiggled for the millionth time.

She hid her face on his chest and groaned. “I can’t sleep.”

“Does that mean we’re having sex?”

Her glare was answer enough.

A chuckle. “C’mere,” Rowan said, and combed his fingers through her hair, soothing her with gentle caresses.

Shit, those were always nice. She let out a satisfied sigh. “I love you.”

“I thought you were mad at me.”

“But I’ll love you again after 7, so I might as well say it now.”

A pleased hum. “I love you.” He kissed her cheek. “I love you.” Her jaw. “I love you.” Her neck.

Aelin shivered. “You better.”

“Is that so?” Rowan said before turning his pecks into an open-mouthed kiss.

Her breath hitched, and she he arched her neck further to him. Once Rowan had so easily ignited her desire in a way only he could, Aelin grasped the back of his head and said, “May I?”

“So polite,” he said with a satisfied smirk, so Aelin lifted Rowan’s T-shirt she wore and directed his mouth to her bare breast.

Without ceremony, he licked her tit and sucked the tender skin into his mouth, earning a moan from her.

“You alright, Ae?” The glint in his eyes said he liked it too much.

“A bit sensitive,” she rasped. “Must be gettin’ my period soon.”

Rowan hummed and slid his full hand up her other breast, gently squeezing her nipple between his knuckles as he did it, focused on Aelin’s needy reactions. “Not too much?”

“Go on.”

He did, with gentle caresses at first that easily evolved into rough massages and flicks of his tongue against her. Aelin was taken over by Rowan above her and the waves of pleasure he gave her, squirming under his touch to his delight.

When Aelin was certain she could die from this nipple play alone, Rowan moved down her body, hooked her legs over his shoulder, and licked a strip between her folds without ceremony. Aelin’s muffled groans intensified when he applied more pressure with his flat tongue to her clit, and by the time he teased her entrance with his finger, it became a full curse.

“You wanna wake our kid at 5, hun?” Rowan said with no small amount of amusement.

Shit. Not now, and not in the next few hours, if they were lucky. Aelin would combust soon, either from an orgasm or frustration if the first didn’t happen.

“That’s what I thought.” He pecked a freckle on her hipbone. “Be a good girl for me, will ya?”

Aelin nodded, and felt herself melt and tense at once from Rowan’s tongue back on her pussy.

He worked her with nice and slow strokes, applying just the right amount of pressure in all the right places—how his tongue fell against her clit, or his fingers on her hips—Rowan knew her body that well. Aelin was nothing but the embodiment of sweet surrender, letting him set the pace and meeting him with needy jolts of her hips and soft whimpers that tightened his hold on her.

“Fuck, Ro,” she pleaded. No matter how much she muffled them, the sounds of her pleasure still echoed through the room. “You eat me out so good, babe.”

“Quiet, love,” he whispered while moving to muffle her moans with his mouth, leaving his fingers to work her cunt—two inside, thumb on her clit.

She felt her own taste on his tongue, and all off a sudden it was too much. Too much of him, too much of how he made her feel, and her pleasure felt like dam about to burst.

“It’s—“ Aelin gasped, that building tension in her hips tighter each moment. “It’s your fault I’m loud.” Her breath hitched. “You know it is.”

“Fuck- I know.” His kiss was quick and rough this time. “I know, baby.”

Aelin’s orgasm came in a slow burst, carefully built by Rowan’s fingers. Her gut tightened, back arched, and she came undone with stifled noises under him.

Rowan watched it with the same kind of focus he always did, enthralled and a bit wrecked himself by the results of his work.

After the crash, he nestled her against his chest with such tenderness, it was a startling contrast to the version of him that usually manhandled her in bed.

Aelin sighed against his chest, feeling dozy. “Just you wait for me to fuck your brains out, Rowan Whitethorn.”

He shushed her. “Later.”

She hummed questioningly, eyes heavier each moment.

“You wanted to sleep,” he whispered before giving her a forehead kiss.

Oh. She’d forgotten about it halfway through his tit play, though it does feel nice, his hand in her hair like this, after an orgasm with the sun still out.

It kinda makes her body feel a bit heavier, especially the eyelids.

˜˜

Aelin might as well be sleeping still, now that she was currently hearing a famous phrase from some nightmares of hers.

“Mommy, pleasepleasepleasepleasepleeeeeeeeease,” Maisie said, for the millionth time in the last half-hour.

Bringing the kid to do groceries was a lose-lose situation: Aelin was either denying her candy or foods with a cartoon character in the packaging while simultaneously avoiding a tantrum, or freaking out because where the hell did my kid run off to if she’s not harassing me for candy.

This was of the reasons why Aelin and Rowan preferred taking her to the big convenience store closest to their house—that was big enough to look like a mini supermarket—Maisie didn’t have much lengths to run off here; the other reason being the proximity and how much they dreaded Doranelle City’s traffic.

There was the downside of most certainly meeting someone from work since they were neighbors in one big military housing area, but you win some, you lose some.

Maisie was still giving her puppy eyes, one hand holding a pack of gummy bears, and a hand basket she picked at front with sly intentions in the other.

Squinting her eyes at this cunning little thing she birthed, Aelin picked the pack from Maisie’s hand. The little girl watched with blatant anticipation as her mom examined this specific request.

Fuck, the kid picked the good shit this time. Maybe if Aelin and Maisie shared… no.

“I don’t think so, Maisy Daisy,” she said with a kind of heartbreak her daughter wouldn’t understand.

The girl’s face fell. “But I said please!”

“I know, honey, you were very polite about it, but—” Because Aelin was really looking forward for those gummy bears too, an idea came up. “I’ll let you choose between this and the sour one.”

The little girl frowned at the candy already secured in her basket. Maisie didn’t exactly like this, but it was enough to make her weight her options and courses of action. Then, she tilted her chin up in a defiant manner and took the candy back from Aelin’s hand.

“Are you putting it back on the shelf?”

“I’m shopping with Daddy.”

Weird. She must be really upset with Aelin with make such a request. Maisie might not know how to read big words properly, but she was an expert already on what to ask each parent to get exactly what she wants—Aelin didn’t trust Rowan to deny his daughter a new dog or a trip to Disneyland, but a sugar overdose? There was a reason why their kid initially chose to stay close to Aelin’s cart, not her dad’s.

Still, she made sure Maisie put the gummy bears back where they belonged, then escorted her to Rowan’s cart.

“You’re done already?” he asked before placing a kiss on Aelin’s cheek.

“Nope, she’s just upset she doesn’t have pediatric diabetes yet.”

Rowan chuckled, gave Aelin a forehead kiss, and resumed his shopping.

She left them to it and ventured to the fruit aisle, wondering about how they’ve been doing two separate groceries for the same family, along with: twice the electricity bill, twice the cleaning chores and house maintenance, twice the streaming—those greedy little bitches—subscriptions.

But that’s how they’ve decided to do so far, so Aelin focused back on the fruit, making some mental math on how much she should buy for one day and a half—she’d be staying at Rowan’s for three days after that time, according to Maisie’s custody schedule, so the fruit would rotten before she got back.

Aelin eyed the bananas again—they were being sold in hands of six. There was absolutely no way the three of them would tackle six bananas in less than 48h. If they were together in one house, just one banana hand would suffice. The small bunch would feel like enough, and there’d be no need to separate the bananas.

Aelin could break it and leave the other half at Rowan’s place, yes, but she liked to keep the bananas together, the hand whole. As if it wasn’t enough that they’ve been separated from the tree before the bananas were mature enough to be a proper hand, now the bananas she had were to be broken into smaller pieces.

A little lump swelled on Aelin’s throat, and she looked up, taking a deep breath. She would not cry. Not here, not now. Not ever, if a banana was the subject of her tears.

“So.” A comfortable weight fell on her back. “Are we just staring at the bananas, or…?”

Aelin chuckled, hoping it didn’t come out too watery. She saw Maisie choosing yoghurts down the aisle and leaned her head again Rowan’s shoulder, finally able to quiet her mind once he was near.

“I wanna move in together.”

And just like that, Aelin popped that question at the fruit section of the convenience store. Peak romance.

“I don’t know, Fireheart.” Rowan let out his pre-sass sigh. “I think I’m too comfortable mowing two lawns and ironing my uniform twice because it got rumpled in my bag.”

Aelin chuckled. She squeezed his hand, he squeezed it back, and apparently the deal was sealed.

“Is that why you were… having a moment?”

Rowan knew better than to drop an ‘about to cry’. Neither of them were criers, and no matter how far they’ve come with therapy, Aelin was still very private about her crying.

“It was because of the bananas. Don’t ask.”

Following her order, he fished a familiar pack of gummy bears from inside his cart. “Someone hid this between my stuff. She’s trying to outsmart us, Ae.”

Aelin laughed and took the candy from his hand. “Her problem that she thinks she’s the only smart person in that house.”

“She won’t outsmart you, though—I hope. You’ve probably tried every trick in the book your entire childhood.”

Yes, though while Aelin had two gay uncles that fell into parenthood by accident and were permissive out of pity for losing her parents too young, Maisie had two living parents so intent on parenting her, they tore each other apart.

With a sigh that came from the weariest corners of her soul, she repeated that same old thing inside her head: one day, Maisie would be glad she didn’t develop pediatric diabetes at five years old—that day was not today.

They looked over at her, and she was still at the yoghurt section, sliding her index finger over the refrigerator’s glass door with intense concentration.

“You think she’s reading?”

Their baby was about to finish preschool. They were finding it hard to get used to Maisie trying to decode letters and syllables she finally understood, her little finger underlining words as if it was a requirement for reading.

“Yeah,” Rowan replied with an awed look. “Did you get everything?”

“I think so, yeah.”

“Me too.” He looked over at where Maisie was again. “Do you think I should…?”

“Don’t interrupt her!” Aelin whisper-yelled. She waved the gummy bears at him. “I’m gonna put those back. Wait here.”

Aelin did as she told, taking some time to look at the women’s toiletries on sale before meeting Rowan again.

But maybe she took too much time, because when Aelin came back, there was a blonde woman clinging on Rowan’s forearm like a monkey to a banana tree. He looked uncomfortable,

There was something familiar about this woman, but Aelin couldn’t place it in the time she rushed to join them.

“Dr. Galathynius!” the woman said with faux enthusiasm at the same time Aelin recognized those cerulean blue eyes.

She stopped on her tracks, realization washing her over like a tsunami.

This was the skank she caught flirting with Rowan last year.

Also, one of the doctors from Air Force General. A dermatologist, why they rarely crossed paths—her department was so peaceful it felt like a whole different hospital.

Dr. Remelle Wiselheade could as well be part of the long-gone Doranellian nobility—it didn’t change the fact that she had her chickenish long fingers clawed around Rowan.

“Oh, hi.” Without faking enthusiasm, Aelin extracted Remelle’s hand from her man’s arm, but not without making the point of taking a look at the wedding band on her finger. “How’s your husband doing?”

Remelle didn’t answer. Instead, her eyes were between Rowan, Aelin and Maisie—who looked like a mix of them both. When the pieces fell into place in her mind, she widened her eyes in surprise with a poisonous smile. “I’m finally putting faces to the stories now! It’s hard to believe you’re the reason for all that fuss,” she told Aelin.

The story, meaning whatever people said about her past with Rowan, especially the context in which Maisie came to be. Aelin wasn’t ashamed of it, but the way Remelle brought it up made her want to claw the woman’s eyes out.

“We should go.” Rowan’s jaw was tight, and Aelin had to give it to him: he really did try hard to act polite when Maisie was near. Mala knew this wasn’t his best skill.

“Of course.” Remelle aimed a sly grin at Rowan and said, “Nice seeing you again.”

Rowan blinked, his mouth ajar. Aelin thought he had frozen for feeling annoyed or offended at the blatant flirting, but he tilted his head in pure confusion and said, “Have we met before?”

“Of course, silly!” She casually pointed her index finger at Aelin. “And I’ve been meaning to stop by at ortho! I’ve been getting some awful scar management cases from your post-op patients.”

“I’m so surprised to hear that,” Aelin replied, her jaw hurting from the fakest smile she’s ever wore—it was either that or clock the bitch in the face. The worst part was that she wasn’t sure if Remelle was lying to get under her skin, or if she was getting called out for the dumbasses from her department.

“Honestly, I don’t know what could’ve had happened. Maybe I didn’t double-check my resident’s sutures because I was distracted by the huge pimples on my patient’s face.”

Not a chance this would’ve happened, but Aelin still did a mental note to talk about this to her residents. Possibly with a scolding involved.

Remelle continued, “I don’t mean to tell you how to perform your surgeries, but—“

“You do surgee too?” Maisie asked, only now paying attention to the adults.

The woman frowned at the little girl, taken aback. “Well, no, but—“

“Uncle Orlon did a surgee too, he—“

“He didn’t do the surgery, honey, he—“ Aelin interrupted.

“He had a little bump sucked out of his butt!” Maisie shouted with newfound excitement after listening to the grown-up talk for so long.

Remelle was dead on her tracks, eyes widened with horror at the incredibly unpolished little girl.

“It’s true!” Maisie continued, flailing her arms around with big gestures because she thought the woman’s shock was out of doubt. “He had hemmy-roys! I know because I went to his house and he had a pillow with a hole in it, so I asked him, Uncle Orlon, why is your pillow so unfluffy? And he told me…”

Maisie went on and on, not caring about anyone’s sensibilities as she told Remelle about Orlon’s hemorrhoids in great detail. Fascinating subject for a five-year-old, or maybe just Aelin’s five-year-old. The woman looked frozen, but Aelin refused to believe it was disgust—Remelle might be a dermatologist, but she did go to med school after all. There was no way she was disgusted at a kid’s story about an elderly relative’s hemorrhoids.

“…And now he’s doing a lot better, but his husband has to put cream on his bum every day, and he needs to eat a lot of fruit so it doesn’t hurt when he poops.”

Remelle blinked. “I see.”

“And now we really have to go,” Rowan said. He couldn’t sound less apologetic. “Mais, wanna see how fast you can get to the cashier?”

“Race you!” She shouted and shot down the aisle.

Her parents quickly bid their farewells. Remelle just mumbled a goodbye, the same weirded-out look still on her face when they last saw her.

“Where’re my gummy bears?” Maisie asked at the checkout.

Mother and daughter stared at each other. Maisie knew those gummy bears she smuggled in her dad’s cart weren’t approved, and she knew her mother knew what she did. Aelin knew Maisie knew she knew. On the sidelines of the interaction, Rowan pretended he didn’t know what was going on.

Neither of the three dared say a word. The ride home was remarkably peaceful.

˜˜ “Rowan.” Aelin tried to sound stern, but she liked it too much when he was being playful like this.

In her kitchen, he held her hostage in his arms while she protested, saying she needed to put the groceries away. Her captor was unrelenting, kissing her neck and telling her he needed her now.

“We should meet halfway,” he conceded. “We put away just the fridge stuff and go to your room. How about that?”

However, they had already used most of Maisie’s very limited screen time to do this quickly at his house, putting away his groceries, then came to her place do the same thing. The kid’s TV show episode could end at any given moment, and Aelin better be done by the time it happens.

When she reminded him as much, his small whine was absolutely adorable.

Rowan was undeterred, though. “We live together now. Don’t I have a say in the house rules?”

No, but that brought a small smile to her lips. “Are you okay, though? With living together now.”

They hadn’t had much to talk about that, and she knew the logistics weren’t simple.

“I want everything, Aelin, and I want it for yesterday.” He shuddered out a long breath, and she tried not to read too much into how he tugged her closer from behind, encasing her in his embrace with one thumb brushing her lower belly. “But some of it is just me—stuff I didn’t get to do. Guilt. I’m still sorting that out. And I’m much more comfortable just following your pace, at least for now.”

“Okay, then.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah, okay.” Aelin sighed. “We have a lot to talk about, but we really do need to put away these.”

He groaned, but picked up a plastic bag to help.

She wiggled her eyebrows. “The sooner we do this, the sooner we sort things out, and the sooner we move in together.”

They worked together in silence, quickly tackling bag after bag so they could repeat the same thing in Rowan’s place.

“Fireheart?” Rowan handed her one bag. “I think this goes in your room.”

“Oh.” Aelin eyed the menstrual pads inside. “I found these on sale, they were such a steal!”

Amusement crinkled his eyes. “That’s great, babe.”

She always perked up when she found pads on sale, Aelin thought as she went to her room. She was terrible at tracking her own period, so she bought pads at random and had a stock ready whenever she needed them.

Aelin opened her ensuite’s cabinet door and—

Weird.

Her stock was nearly overflowing.

Weirdweirdweird. Aelin’s heartbeat shot up before she could properly process what was going on.

She didn’t keep good track of her period, but her pads and tampons always kept to a certain amount, but this… this looked almost as if Aelin hasn’t had her period for a while.

Weird.

Aelin took one step back. Another.

Naps with Fleetfoot. Crying over bananas. After-pizza sickness. Fuck.

Time slowed down and everything felt to physically distant—Aelin felt like she was suspended in a void, no solid footing as she walked to the kitchen where she left her things.

“Where’re you going?” Rowan asked when she had her purse and car keys in hands.

“I forgot to buy something.”

“Want some company?”

“No, I—“ Aelin closed her mouth. Smiled. “Just buying some vitamins,” she half-lied.

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[tinytennisskirt]

i really really really need more mark rebellato patrick and art head canons like i haven’t been able to stop thinking about the ears scenario pls!!! something about their rooms, how they became friends, the whole shebang please and thank you

(sorry it just makes me SOB)

Mark Rebellato Era Headcanons: Misc and Out of Order

First off, the hc that started this-

little Art worried about the boys at school making fun of his ears, his mom walking him into his room at Mark Rebellato tennis academy, her hand on his back, pointing at Patrick saying, “look at that boy’s ears. just like yours. you have nothing to worry about.”

Art's mom packs him a ton of candy every year and Art swears to her he eats it over the course of a month or two, but the truth is he and Patrick usually sit down and eat it all in one go, the first night back to school. It's ritual.

Patrick has gotten into a fight three times over Art-related incidents. Someone makes fun of his swing more than once? Someone says some shit about the shape of his head or his ears? Anyone decides to say anything negative about his best friend?He's not just going to let them talk like that about him in any shape or form. He's used his racket, his fist, his elbows, he has gotten detention over it, but it's always been worth it.

They are partners for every project. Every single project. And if they aren't? Best believe they go behind the teacher's back and switch out partners to be each other's. they're called on to present and they get up together every time without fail, to every teacher's dismay.

They also are every teacher's dismay. When the boys aren't in a class together or in the same tennis group, they do all they can in their power to fix that. Forget their dorm room, they had their parents pay to secure the fact they'd stay bunkmates. The poor teacher in the staffroom conversing with the other teachers being consoled by other teachers of the boy's past, saying, "Hopefully they've matured over the summer." But they're always a little rowdy. A little too talkative.

Art is fairly studious. He gets things done in time, he gets good grades. Patrick too, but Patrick swore off studying when he first got there. He'll review his notes, but he relies a lot on his memories and note-taking, which is why his grades are mediocre. But not bad.

The day after the Kat Zimmerman thing, Patrick holds it over him to get Art to do stupid things like call him 'sir'. It lasts only a day because Art reminds Patrick that he caught HIM doing the same thing first and soon Patrick is calling Art 'sir'.

When Patrick gets a little homesick, he never outwardly displays it. It happens, it's normal. Art can tell, but never says anything about it. When he knows Patrick is getting that way- he puts on some 80s rock CD that Patrick really likes- it reminds him of the stuff he heard growing up.

They are each other's ultimate wingman. School dance? Needing to ask someone to it? The other is setting things up like a mastermind. They pull strings, they do what they need to do behind the scenes and almost always, they end up with the date to the dance they wanted.

They fight over who can have what celebrity crush. They're watching a movie and an insanely hot woman pops up on screen, they both shout 'mine' over the other. It's happened a few times in movie theatres, nearly getting kicked out for both the yelling and the slight shoving that goes on afterward.

Little itty bitty Patrick Zweig who has a poster he wants to put up. He's not a super shy kid but he doesn't know Art yet. Itty bitty Art Donaldson with the very same poster, putting it up on the wall and it's their first real conversation. It's when they know they're going to be best friends. The poster gets moved from Art's side of the room to the middle after that. And the poster gets put in the same spot in the room every year until they graduate. The colour is faded, but it's still there. Technically it's Art's, but when they graduate Patrick is the one to take it. After everything that went down later in their life, Patrick still has it. It's in the glovebox of his car.

The boys put on trashy white girl music when they're hanging out alone in their room. Late 90s, early 2000s pop. Patrick will be playing some stupid video game and Art in his bed reading over some tennis book. They know all the words and it's completely of their own volition. They won't tell anyone about it and they keep it low enough that other rooms can't hear. It surprises Tashi later in life when Art is humming along to the songs she listened to when she was younger.

Their moms make them take back-to-school pictures every year. The first photo was taken at Christmas break when the boy's parents came to pick them up to find they'd become best friends and the tradition picks up from there. Their parents each have their own copies of the boys every year standing in the same position. Patrick with double thumbs up and a big grin and Art with one hand up like he's waving, a small smile on his face. The copies that the boys possess are drawn all over with devil horns and mustaches.

And speaking of that, Patrick for sure is the guy who doodles over almost everyone in the yearbook he dislikes. Pictures of jerks, he's got their faces all ugly and marked up and hot girls get a few hearts and some words written on it. When he wants to remember how a person actually looked, he just looks at Art's yearbook.

Art knowing Patrick likes boys too, but they never talk about it. Patrick is never into Art and Art never has it in his head that Patrick likes him- you know that awful thing that happens when you find out someone is a little gay and you start worrying they like you? They never have that. It's written off so easily, they both hardly ever think about it, but it's known.

They are so serious about board games never play monopoly with them in the time between class and lunch because they will get really loud about it.

Thinking maybe Patrick's parents divorce sometime around grade ten and yeah, he's a teenager and he's not really wanting to show emotion, but it's really hard. And Art, without centering Patrick out too much about it, really helps him through it. Listens to him without any judgment and they know that they are the only people in the world who can be vulnerable with each other and be completely understood. Without having to worry about their masculinities. They can tease each other all they want over petty little things of the sort, but in times like this they just listen and talk.

April Fool's day is a biggg day for them. Everyone at school is worried about what they might have in store when Patrick and Art are around. They first go all-out on each other. Shaving cream while the other is sleeping, air horn wake-ups. Rigged sinks that spray water. And on the outside, plastic wrap on the doors, party snaps under toilet seats, fake mice, fake snakes, fake money planted. It's a little bit of chaos, but it all gets done early enough to all be done by noon.

The boys talk like girls about their crushes. When Art has his first kiss, Patrick demands details. The taste of the girl's lip gloss, when, where, did they make out? Did he get to touch her boobs? Immature little questions.

[jaslan4f1]

Can You maybe continue the dirty secret part of lando nsfw list. With his secret wish to get reader pregnant. Can be smut or not if you don’t feel like it

Let’s make a baby L.N 🧡

Notes: English is not my native language so this may contain consistency errors, i would really appreciate the corrections but please, be kind. feedback is also appreciated ♡

 Warnings: fluff

Masterlist Part 2

“Her favorite toys are in the bag, her clothes are in this bag and…” Savannah said, holding Mila in her arms while Oliver put Milas bags in Landos apartment. “Sav, you don’t need to worry. Uncle Lando and aunt Y/n will take good care of Mila,” he said in a baby voice while taking Mila from Savs arms. “Well technically she isn’t aunt YET” Oliver interrupted and made sure to underline the yet.

“Bro when are you going to pop the question?” Oliver said, a grin forming as he slung an arm around his younger brother. Lando let out a nervous chuckle. “I will…soon” was all he could say.

Lando didn’t missed that not only his family but everybody around him made clear that marriage would be the next step in his relationship with you. Being together for 5 years and living together for 3,5 years gave him not only the best partner who he could have asked for but also many happy memories that he shared during this relationship. In fact, Lando thought about proposing to you far more often than you did. Of course, you guys talked about marriage, but both decided that you wanna take it slow due to Landos and your carrer.

“What will be soon?” was what you said when you walked inside the hallway to greet Landos brother and his family. “My due date will be soon” was quickly said from Sav. Lando gave her a thankful look. You just nodded and switched your attention to the little girl in Landos arms.

You absoulutly adored Landos niece. She was the most perfect little human that you ever met. Mila liked you too due to the many times where you played with her in the garden of Landos parents or the times where you and Lando took care of her when Sav and Oli went out on a date. “Aont Y/n” Mila tried to say and signaled with her hand that she would rather be in your arms than in her uncle's. Everybody chuckled when Lando gave Mila to you. “Hey, I missed my best friend” you said and poked her little nose.

Lando watched you closely, adoring not only his niece but especially you. He loved that you were good with his family but watching you with his niece made him feel a certain way. Did he want to start a family with you? Was he ready for it? And another question was, are you ready to start a family with him?

A loud cough interupped Landos daydreaming. “We have to go now but if you need anything you can call me” Sav said before they said goodbye to Mila and headed to the Spa resort in saint tropez where they would be staying for the weekend.

 

After a lot of playing, you both cooked Mila her dinner, took her to bed and read her a story. You both said down on the couch in the living room enjoyed the silence, both exhausted from baby sitting Mila today. Lando switched his attention towards you. “You looked good toady” he said. You laughed, you looked horrible in fact you had paint on your cheek, your shirt was red from Milas tomato soup, and your hair was a mess. “If you think I look good like this then I must look fantastic on every other day” you laughed with him. “No, no that’s not what I meant. I meant you looked good today with Mila. You looked like…like a mother” he said after a short pause.

Your eyes softened after Lando said his last word. You didn’t dare to respond to his comment knowing that he would continue with another sentence in a few seconds. “You know I could really imagine you being a mother to our children. Us taking care of them and bring them to bed. I know Mila is an angel and not every kid is like her…but I think we could handle one. And I know we are still young and have plenty of time but…” the last part of his sentence died on his lips as you pressed your lips on his. Lando instinctively wrapped his arms around you and sat you on his lap.

After a while you broke the kiss. “I am ready for everything that our future holds” was all you said before crashing your lips on his for the second time. “Let’s make a baby. I heard this is by far the most exciting part,” he said a devilish grin forming on his lips. “You’re such a dork…I love it” was all you said befor you stood up, took his hand, and walked to your shared bedroom ready to start a family with him.

 

a/n; Hi guys, I hope you like this post. Tell me if I should write a smut part?

[coff33andb00ks]

Recipe for the Perfect Christmas 12/12

One part small town girl coming home from the big city. One part handsome stranger. Five parts lifelong friends (don't forget to include their partners). One part stubborn father. A dash of Christmas spirit. Part: Twelve of Twelve Pairing: Oscar Piastri x ofc (with appearances from Mark Webber. Lando Norris, Carlos Sainz, Esteban Ocon, Pato O'Ward, and George Russell) wc: 5,670 warnings: none soundtrack: spotify ⋆❆⋆ apple music nav: One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve a/n: the ending is here!! can't believe I panic wrote 60k words in less than two weeks but here we are. thank you to everyone for reading! (i will post a small epilogue tomorrow)

"Hey, Natalie? You got a minute?"

Looking up from sorting the papers on her father's desk, Natalie saw Max in the office doorway. It hit her again that this was now his office and she was relieved that the pang in her chest wasn't as sharp this time. "Yeah, sure," she said, standing. "What's up?"

He waved at her to sit back down and stepped inside. The apron he wore made him look a little odd in her opinion, though she knew she would get used to seeing him wearing one. She knew that he and Eve were technically living in town now. Oscar had told her there were just a few things left at their place in Fairview to bring down. Now that he wasn't going back and forth, Max had begun coming to the bakery every day. And though it had felt weird, having him standing next to her while she prepped croissant dough for the next morning, over the past week she had come to enjoy his company. He fit right in, the customers liked him, and he knew nearly as much as her father did about baking. He was as likeable, with a bit of sarcasm in some of his quips, and she had seen him work enough in the past week to know that he was a perfectionist.

"Is everything okay?" she asked when he sighed and shoved his hands into the pockets of his apron. An instant later he was pulling his hands out and fiddling with the snow globe on the edge of the desk.

"Yeah, no, everything is fine," he said with a quick smile. "I just wanted to…"

He sighed again, and Natalie frowned. "What, Max?"

"You know Eve's pregnant?" he asked, picking up the snow globe.

"She is? I didn't know. Congratulations," she said, grinning.

"Thanks." He grinned as well, reminding her that he was a devoted father. "We're not telling everyone yet because it's early, but… " His grin only widened. Turning the snow globe in his hand, he tipped it until the glitter and fake snow inside collected at the top. "We're pretty excited."

"New town, new house, new business, new kids… You two just have to go the extra mile, huh?"

"No kidding," he chuckled. He held the snow globe upright, watching the snow and glitter swirl. "Anyway, she won't be able to help out for long. Her pregnancy with Lucas wasn't easy and she was put on bedrest. I'm not saying that's gonna happen this time around, but we're gonna need to be careful, you know?"

"Yeah."

"And I'm still learning my way around here," he went on, setting the snow globe back down. I know Mark's only a phone call away and unless I've got him wrong, he'll show up at least every other day, but…"

"You don't want to bother him," she guessed, warming to him even more.

"Exactly. And, um, you know this place better than I do."

"Not really."

"You do, Natalie. And you've done a damned good job. Mark told me he couldn't have kept everything going these past few weeks without you." Max sighed again. "What I'm saying is…"

Natalie waited for him to either gather his courage or his thoughts. Looking down at the paper in her hand, she wondered if her father needed a receipt from an order he'd placed six years before. Knowing him, he would want to hold onto it just in case. She leaned to set it in the stack of receipts that she would later work to organize by date and then find the spot in the filing cabinet for them.

"Would you consider staying on?" Max asked.

"Staying on?" she echoed.

"At least part-time. Until after the babies are born and Eve can get back to work."

"That's a year from now," she murmured.

"Yeah, at least," he sighed. "I don't know what your plans are after Mark's surgery, but if you're gonna stay in town, I'd love for you to keep working here."

"I—" Natalie faltered. She thought of the voicemail she had saved on her phone from Katie in Atlanta. Katie, who'd emailed her photos of a cute apartment with a nice view. Katie, who'd offered her a bonus to assist her in her move. Katie, who she hadn't called because she was still warring with herself over whether she wanted to accept the job. She both did and did not.

"You're good at this. You're great at baking. You'd be a huge help. I'm not trying to guilt you, but I know Mark would rest a little easier knowing you were here. Hell, I'd be a little easier knowing you were here. And I think the people that come in here every day would be less upset about me taking over if they knew a Webber would still be in the shop." He cleared his throat and pulled a slip of paper from his pocket. "I sat up late last night doing some figuring, and this is what I can offer for pay and benefits."

She took it, looking at the neatly written figures. "Can I think about it?"

"Sure. Just let me know in a couple days, because if you don't want the job, I'll have to look into hiring someone else."

She nodded. "I'll let you know tomorrow."

"Great." He smiled and turned to leave the office. "We're still on for tomorrow night?"

"Yep." It had been her father's idea to have a Christmas Eve party and invite a few people over. Nothing fancy, mainly finger foods and treats and Mark's special Santa's Whiskers cookies, hot cocoa and coffee and eggnog, Christmas cartoons and carols. When she had left the house he had been at the kitchen table, making lists of what he needed to get done. It had given him a new sense of purpose, especially when Max and his family, her friends and their partners and kids, and Oscar had said they would come.

"Perfect, you can just tell me tomorrow night, then," he said before leaving.

Turning back to the papers, she began to sort, softly humming along to the music Max had playing in the kitchen.

The bakery was moving into good hands, she thought, smiling when she heard Eve's laugh as Max began to sing along with Nat King Cole. It would forever hold memories for her, both good and bad, but she now accepted that it was time for a new set of memories. Lucas would no doubt picture his father at the counter, grinning and offering him a cookie. Grace would soon learn all the nooks and crannies where she could tuck herself away to read or play quietly. Max and Eve would love the building and everything in it. Maybe not as much as her father did, at least at first, but they would with time. And their obvious love would keep customers coming.

She picked up the slip of paper Max had given her and read it over again after she had sorted all the papers in the desk. It was a generous offer. Not as much as she would make in Atlanta, but… The cost of living here was a lot lower.

Another tick in her mental pros and cons list.

After storing the keep pile and tucking the questionable pile into a large envelope, she glanced around the office. Her father had already taken out the things he wanted at home. A few photos, gifts customers had given him over the years.

She turned slowly to look at the hook on the wall, expecting to see her mother's apron where it had always been. The hook was empty and the air left her lungs in a shaky exhale. Had he taken it home? She hadn't seen it in the box of stuff she'd carried inside from his truck. She reached for her phone to call him and ask him, then remembered he was busy in the kitchen. He wouldn't answer, if he even had his phone on him. She could wait until she got home and ask him.

Stepping out of the office, she spotted Eve heading out the back door and stopped her. "Did you see the red apron hanging in the office?"

"The one with flour?" Eve asked.

Natalie nodded, a bundle of panic forming in her gut. "Yeah. I-it was Mom's."

Eve's expression softened. "I didn't know. When Mark was here this morning he took it down."

The panic fled and she let out a soft sigh. "He took it home?"

"Yeah. I offered to just throw it in the laundry but he said no." The woman's eyes flashed with sadness. "I hope I didn't upset him."

"You didn't, I promise. He told me once it would hang there until the place was no longer his."

"That's beautiful." Eve smiled sadly. "I wonder if…"

Her gaze drifted to her husband and Natalie knew what she was wondering. She doubted she should comment, since she didn't know them intimately, but she was already starting to nod. "Yes."

"You think so?"

"I know so."

Penny cautiously circled the room, nose pressed to the floor. Her tail wagged slowly as she explored, occasionally snorting, and when she reached Oscar's boot she stopped, head tipping in confusion. Then, with a snort, she moved by him and slipped into the next room. It was the kitchen, and all Oscar could smell when he followed was the faint aroma of fresh paint, but she showed keen interest in all corners and especially in front of the stove. The dog circled the room again, tail wagging faster, and after giving a quick bark she trotted into the little utility room, tail banging against the washer and dryer. After a moment she was back, tongue lolling happily, and stopped in front of him.

"What do you think?" Oscar asked.

"I think I've seen a many things in my life, but I've never seen somebody need a dog's opinion before deciding to buy a house," Carlos said.

Oscar chuckled. "It's gonna be her home, too, if I buy it."

"You still don't know?" Carlos looked up from his phone.

Sighing, he looked around the kitchen. It was small, and the cabinets would need replacing. He had no idea if the L-shaped counter was enough space, or if the spot near the window would hold a table and chairs. He closed his eyes for a moment then looked again, imagining the things he would like to do. Turning, he did the same to the living room and thought of the two bedrooms and little bathroom. Nodding to himself, he leaned down to clip Penny's leash to her collar. She groaned lightly, still unused to it, perking up when he offered her a treat.

"I think I do," he said finally. But still he hesitated, Natalie's words the night before echoing in his mind.

With the bonus they're offering I could hire someone to help Dad out around the house.

It seemed she was leaning closer to moving to Atlanta, despite her whispers that she needed him.

He thought of the offer his father had given him. Back home, he would be close to his parents. Not that they needed him nearby. They seemed more energetic now than they had when he was a child. And even if they did need one of their children near, one of his sisters lived two houses down. But he would be close to home, even if it hadn't felt like home since his grandmother had died, and he would have steady work, even if it did feel like a nepotistic handout.

"I'll let you know for sure in a couple days," he told Carlos as they walked outside. Then, realizing the date, he chuckled. "Or maybe the first of the week?"

"You know where to find me," Carlos told him with a grin. "Or let me know at Mr. Webber's tomorrow?"

Penny buried her nose in the rosebush next to the steps as soon as her feet hit the ground.

"Mr. Wright grew that from a cutting his mother gave him." Carlos watched Penny sniff around the rosebush. "She grew hers from a cutting her mother gave her, and the story was that her grandparents brought he original plan over with them from Scotland."

"Is there one at his sister's?"

"Yes. We have one at home, Sasha was given a cutting when we moved in." Carlos shivered. "Weather's changing."

"Yeah," Oscar agreed, though he had no idea how the man could tell. It was almost warm, the sun peeking out occasionally from clouds that spit pitiful rain every few minutes. "I was hoping for a white Christmas."

"It'll happen." Carlos nodded.

Oscar squinted as the sunlight appeared, as though to prove the prediction wrong. "I'll take your word for it."

Promising to let Carlos know by the first of the week, Oscar opened his truck door. He unhooked Penny's leash after she jumped in, and waited until she had moved to sit on the passenger seat before climbing in. The dog gave a small whine after he started the engine and began to back out of the driveway, and he sighed as the sunlight disappeared and rain began to splatter on the windshield.

"I know, girl," he murmured. As he drove towards Max's house, he wondered if the dog would enjoy his old home.

***

Christmas Eve dawned, cold and cloudy. Natalie shivered when she pulled back the curtain and saw the heavy frost on the ground, sparkling in the early morning light. The sunlight was weak. When she looked up to the sky she could see clouds starting to creep in, and thought of her father's prediction for a heavy snow.

There was music playing in the kitchen when she got downstairs, and the smell of coffee and pancakes and sausage. She slipped around her father to fix her plate, quickly getting out of his way. The counters were covered with ingredients and utensils and the beginnings of his prep work for the food they'd eat that night. She ate her breakfast quickly, almost silently, her father too focused on his different stations to be conversational.

There was a fitful snow starting to fall when she rinsed her dishes and put them in the dishwasher. Unsure what else to do, she pitched in to help her father get cookie dough and pastry dough ready to chill, mainly moving behind him to wash dirtied utensils and wipe off the floured surfaces once he finished. She wasn't needed, she realized when they bumped into each other the third time. At a loss, she finally washed her hands and looked out at the softly floating snowflakes.

"Max offered me a job," she blurted.

Mark stopped chopping pecans. "Did he?"

"At the bakery."

"Doing what?"

"What I've been doing." She paused. "He can offer me a decent pay."

"Do you want to?" he asked carefully.

"I think I do."

"What changed?" There was no hurt in his voice and for that she was glad.

"The bakery doesn't hurt anymore," she admitted. "And it would be part-time, so I could still do writing on the side. Plus, he needs the help."

"He doesn't."

"Eve's not gonna be able to help him out for long." She told him the news, enjoyed the warmth of his surprise and joy for them. One day, she hoped, she would be able to tell him that she would be having a baby and could only imagine his delight. At one point when she had imagined her future children they had been vague, dreamlike figures. When she closed her eyes and thought of them now, they had distinct grins and chocolate brown eyes.

"I thought you were going to Atlanta."

"I thought I was too," she whispered. Opening her eyes, she saw the tiny flakes were growing larger.

"Penny go?"

"Of course Penny's going. Mister Mark would turn us away if we didn't bring her." Max laughed and held up the pair of pants. "Get these on."

"Cookies."

"Not now, you'll ruin your appetite." Max grabbed his son's swinging leg and before Lucas could slip out of his grip he had the pants up to his knees. Then he paused. "…Do you need to pee?"

"Need cookie."

"You want a cookie. You don't need a cookie."

Lucas shook his head. "No want. Need."

Max sighed with defeat and turned to Oscar. "Help."

"Hey, you created him, I'm just the guy that spoils him rotten."

"He's got his mother's sweet tooth. Do you know what he had for breakfast this morning?"

"Yeah, waffles."

"Before that." Max tugged his son's pants up and caught him before he could slide off the bed. "Shoes, Lucas."

Oscar handed over a shoe. "What did he have?"

"Brownies."

Oscar stared at his friend. "You gave him brownies? And you're still alive?"

"Barely," Max muttered. "It's not my fault that he got his mother's pout, too."

"Not to mention your stubborn attitude," Oscar pointed out when Lucas began to crawl across the bed after one shoe had been slipped onto his foot.

"It took me two hours to get my ass out of trouble." Max leaned forward and dragged his son back towards him. "I don't even know if there is a rosebush that grows purple roses naturally."

"There is."

"Thank god." Max slipped the other shoe onto Lucas and stepped back with an exhausted sigh. "Done!"

Lucas slipped off the bed and stood, brow puckering, one hand clutching the edge of his mattress. "Pee."

"You've got to be kidding me." Max dragged a hand over his face. "I just asked—And you said—If I give you a cookie will you go pee in the potty?"

"Cookie!" Lucas squealed as he was scooped up, and his giggles rang in the air while Max hurried into the bathroom. "Cookie for pee!"

Laughing, Oscar pushed himself to his feet. "You're bribing him."

"I'm doing whatever works. I'm trying to get some headway on this before the baby comes."

"That's months away."

"Do you not know how long potty training can take?" Max snorted. Then his voice softened. "You done?"

"Pee."

"Yeah, son, pee. Have you finished peeing?"

"Cookie."

"After you pee."

"Cookie."

"In a minute."

There was absolute silence. Oscar counted along in his head, biting back a laugh as the seconds stretched on. Then, triumphantly, Lucas clapped. "Cookie now!"

"I don't have a cookie right now."

Lucas's long-suffering sigh was audible even to Oscar. "I done."

"I can't do this again," Max announced after helping his son wash his hands. "Grace was easy. He's stubborn as hell and has me wrapped around his finger. He pouts just like Eve and I give him whatever he wants."

"Grace has you wrapped around her finger, too," Oscar told him, following them into the hall.

"You're right," Max chuckled. Swinging Lucas up onto his hip, he headed down the stairs. "You ready to go?"

Oscar opened his mouth to say that he would drive himself, not wanting to be squeezed between the two car seats in the back of Max's SUV. His phone began to vibrate incessantly and he pulled it out, frowning when he saw Mr. Wright's name on the screen. "Yeah, almost. I'll meet you there."

He barely heard Max's reply, turning to go into the guest bedroom to answer the call. "Hello?"

"Oscar?"

"Yes, sir." He frowned, walking over to the window to glance out. It had snowed off and on for most of the day, but not heavily. The grass was covered and there was a soft dusting on the road. Squinting at the streetlamp at the corner of the lot, he couldn't see any evidence of anything falling.

"I just got an offer on the house and unless you want it, I'm gonna let them have it."

He almost asked who, but the man went on.

"Tommy's son is getting married in the spring. His girlfriend lives over in Lakefield and he brought her to take a look at the place this morning. She fell in love with it, and…" Mr. Wright sighed. "Have you made up your mind yet?"

He hadn't. So many things were up in the air at the moment. Drawing in a breath, he hesitated. Mr. Wright didn't rush him, and when he saw Max's car pull out of the drive he squeezed his eyes shut. "I…"

"We shouldn't stay long. It's really coming down."

"You don't have to stay. I'm just glad you stopped by." Natalie took a sip of her cocoa and slipped her arm around Susie's shoulders for a squeeze.

"We'll stay a bit longer. Michael is having so much fun."

Looking over to where the boy sat near the tree. He and Grace were chattering excitedly while building some sort of intricate tower using the building blocks Natalie had given Michael. Next to them was the half-finished page from Grace's new coloring book featuring horses and cowboys. Her gaze moved around the room, looking for Lucas, and she smiled when she saw him leaning to get another cookie from the platter on the coffee table.

Hannah was on the couch, talking animatedly with Amira and Sasha, who accepted Lucas when he crawled into her lap. George was squatting next to Mark's armchair, the two chatting while Lilli danced with Carlos to the song playing. Another glance showed Pato and Amira tucked close to each other, talking with Franco and Ollie and Mrs. Jones, who'd arrived with them. Max and Eve were sipping eggnog and talking to Esteban, who was inexplicably wearing a cowboy hat.

"Do you know Esteban and Max were joking around that Michael and Grace should get married?" Susie grunted. "At least, I hope they were joking."

"Arranged marriage?" Natalie asked with a grin.

"Pretty much." Susie was not amused. "It's so disgusting."

"Misogynistic," Natalie agreed with a nod.

"Oppressing and sexist."

Natalie looked on while Grace jumped to her feet and grabbed Michael's hand. The two walked to the center of the room, giggling, both staring up at the ceiling. Her gaze shifted and she saw the bundle of mistletoe her father had insisted she hang from the light fixture.

"Aww," Susie cooed.

Snapping her attention back to Grace and Michael, Natalie laughed. Michael's lips were pressed to Grace's cheek. She could hear the exaggerated smack of the kiss, and then again when Grace kissed his cheek. Giggling, they skipped back over to the blocks and resumed their play.

Natalie turned to her friend. "Then again, they may have a point."

"Guess I should drag Esteban over for a kiss."

Natalie rolled her eyes. "Like he needs mistletoe to kiss you."

"No, but it's tradition." Susie smoothed the front of her sweater and flicked her hair over her shoulders. "Excuse me."

Shaking her head, she watched Susie move across the room to her husband, who was still chatting with Eve. Max had been with them, and she now saw he had stepped into the dining room. She watched him frown at his phone before slipping it into his pocket, and when he reentered the living room she softly called his name.

"Have you heard from Oscar?" he asked.

"I was about to ask you the same thing." Everyone else had arrived nearly an hour before. She hadn't worried, because he had promised he was coming. He had sent her a text just before Pato and Amira had gotten there, saying he would be a little late. Reaching to pull her phone from the pocket of her jeans, she groaned when she saw it had died.

"I just called him, it's going to voicemail."

"Did his phone die again?" she sighed, setting her mug of cocoa on the mantle and heading into the kitchen. "That happened the night of that bad storm a couple weeks ago."

"Either that or he turned it off. He does that when he's got to think about something."

Plugging up her phone, Natalie drummed her fingers on the counter for the entire three minutes it took for the device to charge enough to power on. It seemed to take twice as long for the Apple logo to appear, and four times as long before the lock screen finally loaded. She unlocked it, then gave the phone time enough to catch any missed calls, voicemails, or texts.

"Anything?" Max asked, looking up from his own phone.

She opened the text she had received and frowned, confused, as she read the words that had been sent more than thirty minutes before.

I'm coming. I've just got to figure a couple things out. I might not be able to get the house. I might take the job with Dad. But I need to know what you're gonna do. I know I shouldn't make life decisions based on just four weeks of knowing someone but I am.

"Well?"

"I've gotta go," she blurted, pushing away from the counter. Max stumbled when she bumped into him, and she muttered a quick apology as she heard his phone hit the floor. Hurrying out of the kitchen, she noticed but didn't really see Esteban and Susie kissing sweetly beneath the mistletoe. It occurred to her as she snatched her coat off the rack that she should tell her father where she was going, but she heard his warm laugh and decided she didn't have time.

The snow was coming down thick and heavy. The street was white and she walked quickly as she could, slightly lightheaded from the snow whirling around her. When she reached the corner of Halifax Street her steps quickened, and she heard the snow crunch beneath her boots as she reached the beautiful Victorian house. Bedecked in lights, trees twinkling through the upstairs windows and the large window downstairs, it positively glowed with warmth. She skidded to a stop, gasping, and saw that Oscar's truck wasn't in the driveway. She looked at the house again. The lights and snow created an aura of merriment and she could almost feel the joy that would fill the house in the coming years.

She wanted that joy for herself.

Where was he? She walked to the driveway to make sure his truck wasn't there. Saw only Eve's car backed up to the garage. Turning, she began to slowly walk back down the street, barely feeling the cold or the snowflakes landing on her cheeks. He was going to leave. She couldn't blame him. Guaranteed work, close to his parents. She didn't want him to stay here just for her, even if she had called Katie that afternoon and told her she wouldn't be taking the job. Even if she had thought of seeing him every day at the bakery while she worked for Max, who'd seemed overjoyed when she had pulled him into the kitchen as soon as he'd arrived to tell him she would stay on. And when she'd confirmed her father's appointment for pre-op bloodwork the next week, she had thought of Oscar's comforting presence while she waited during her father's surgery, and his easygoing company in those first days after her father came back home to recover.

Stopping on the corner, she wiped the mixture of tears and melted snow from her cheeks, groping in her coat pocket for a tissue. Oscar would leave, and she would stay, and every time Max or Eve mentioned him she would think of everything that could have been.

She was about to start walking again when she heard a dog start barking. It was too loud and clear for it to be inside one of the nearby houses, and she glanced around. Turning, she heard the bark again, coming from down Brickyard Avenue. Funny, but it almost sounded like Penny, she thought, finally finding a crumpled tissue to use to wipe her face. The snowfall grew heavier and she sniffled, about to continue on her way home when movement caught her eye.

A small dog coming up the street. It passed below a streetlamp and she saw the green dog sweater. She blinked in surprise as it bounded towards her. "Penny?"

Of course it was Penny. No other dog in town that she had seen had the same coat and coloring. As the dog approached she heard the jingle of her collar. Glad as she was to see the dog, worry pricked through while she squatted to greet Penny with a hug.

"Where's—"

"Natalie!"

There he was. Coming up the street in a jog, breath fogging around him. Penny ran back towards him and Natalie followed, stride lengthening to close the distance. "Where—"

"My truck broke down, I turned my phone off so I could think, and I left it at the house." He stopped, catching her arm when her boots slid on the snow. "I had to run see Mr. Wright."

"What hap—"

"I don't know, I think it's the alternator. I left it out at Mr. Wright's." He drew in a breath. "I bought the house."

"What?" she gasped, grasping the front of his coat.

"I'm staying. I couldn't let someone else get it, because when I took Penny to take a look yesterday she loved it and because I kept seeing things I wanted to do with the house and the land. It's taking all my savings, and I'll have to eat ramen for a year, but I want it. For the first time since I broke up with Lauren I want to own a house." He was breathless, either from excitement or his run. "Mr. Harrell was at Mr. Wright's, and he said he needs someone to do maintenance on his rentals."

Natalie nodded, though he was speaking so fast she could barely keep up.

"I start week after next. Doing what I did for Max and Eve. It's not gonna be easy, but I know I can do it." He paused and swiped snow from his cheeks. "I don't know what you're gonna do, Natalie, but I have to stay here. Yeah, I know I'm falling in love with you, but I fell in love with this town and all the crazy people in it."

"I'm staying," she told him before he could continue. "Max wants me to stay at the bakery, and Dad needs me. And I'll be able to do my writing. I don't know if I'll find anything I can do remotely, but I'll try. If nothing else I'll start a blog or maybe write that book I've wanted to write since I was a kid. I can't leave again, because if I do I know I'd never come back—"

"Thank god," he breathed, pulling her to him.

"What?" she whispered after his lips pressed to her forehead.

"You're staying. And not for me."

"You're a little bit of the reason—"

"You're staying because you love your dad and you love the bakery enough to help it keep going and because you love this little town," he insisted.

"Yeah," she admitted with a small laugh. "I do."

"And I'm staying because I love this little town and I love being close to my idiot friend and I love that little house."

At their feet, Penny barked.

"And I couldn't take her away. She'd never forgive me for taking her away from Mark."

"Neither would he," she said.

"I'm glad you're staying," he murmured. His arms wrapped around her.

"I'm glad you're staying," she returned. Leaning against him, she felt a giddiness rise up within her as his words finally registered in her brain. "And I'm falling in love with you, too."

"Yeah?" He grinned, his beautiful, adorable grin that warmed her heart.

"Yeah," she whispered just as his lips found hers.

She pulled back moments later, a little dizzy and weak, and gazed up at him. "Come on, Dad's gonna get worried when he realizes I left the party. And there's presents waiting for you."

"Presents?"

"Dad got you something. I did, too."

"I think Max brought my gifts with him," he said, keeping one arm around her as they began to walk. He called to Penny, who trotted alongside them until they reached Natalie's street. Then the dog gave a tiny yip and bounded ahead. Oscar laughed, tucking Natalie closer to his side. "What did you get me?"

"I won't tell you everything, but one of them is a phone charger for your truck."

"A charger." He nodded. "Useful."

"You need it."

"I do."

"What did you get me?" she asked, watching Penny jump up the steps and onto the front porch. Her friends' cars and trucks and Max's SUV were still parked out front and she was glad. All those closest to her would be there to celebrate both her news and Oscar's news. Penny began to scratch at the door and she tried to remember if she'd placed a towel near the door to catch snow. The dog would need a good rub down.

"I won't tell you everything," Oscar chuckled. "But one of them is a book."

"A book?"

"Yeah. It'll come in handy, since you're going to keep working at the bakery."

"What is it?" She stopped halfway up the walk, waving to her father when he opened the door. Oscar waved, too. Mark waved back with the towel he was holding, then closed the door after Penny slipped inside the house.

Oscar turned to her, arm slipping around her waist and drawing her close. "A cookbook."

"A cookbook," she repeated, lifting her eyebrows.

"Baking for Dummies."

Before she could give an indignant reaction, he swept her close and kissed her. She laughed against his lips, too full of hope and joy to be outraged by his gift. She heard the front door open again, music and laughter spilling outside.

Pato's voice rang out, disgusted. "What the hell is with you two and standing outside in the cold?!"

The End

[johanna-swann]

I haven't been able to write much recently, but here's a little Bucktommy thingy for NYE. Have fun everybody, don't party too hard.

Eddie can pinpoint the exact moment he realises that maybe they all should've minded their own business and just let Buck call Tommy. Regardless of who dumped whom and whose fault it was and what went down exactly. It's New Year's Eve, the only winter holiday this year that the entire 118 family is off work. They're celebrating together at the Han house and Eddie tries to soak up the atmosphere. He's supposed to move to El Paso in only a few weeks and who knows how many 118 barbecues he'll get to attend after that.

Everyone's having a good time. Bobby seems almost relieved that he's not hosting for once and is animatedly chatting away with Karen and Mrs Lee. Athena and Hen are on their second glass of red and laughing loudly. Maddie is sitting with them too, her hand suspiciously not holding onto a wine glass. The kids are watching a movie in the living room, Mulan or maybe Merida? Eddie can't keep up with all the Disney Princesses. He, Chimney and Mr Lee are standing around the grill and Buck- Buck is technically there too. He seems distracted though, his thoughts a thousand miles away.

When Eddie met Buck and the guy was still so god damn hung up on Abby he thought it was an outlier that should not have been counted. Your first serious relationship will do that to you, it's difficult to let go of something so special. Eddie would know. But with every relationship afterwards it only took Buck a couple of weeks at most to bounce back after the break-up.

Eddie assumed it would be more of the same when Tommy plucked the cord. Sure, Buck was mopy and baked like a madman, but that wasn't going to last forever, right? Right. But then Thanksgiving came and went, November turned into December, the Christmas Holidays passed by, the new year was rapidly approaching and nothing changed. Sure, Buck toned down the baking spree a little bit, but they were still collectively waiting for the "bouncing back" part.

Buck had almost obsessively planned the New Year's Eve party instead. He had figured out a menu, made a playlist, offered his bartending skills, taken care of the shopping. Chimney was ready to hold an intervention when Buck whipped out a clipboard while they were discussing drinks. Only Hen's "be nice to him, he needs this" stopped him from hiding the offending object away in the ambulance.

Here and now though, standing in the middle of their get-together and everything going quite perfectly so far, Buck looks anything but happy or even content. He laughs weakly at Chimney's movie reference (Eddie is almost certain that Buck does not know what "we're gonna need a bigger grill" is even from) and nods along when Eddie recalls an anecdote from a few years ago. But then he's checking his phone again and frowning. A few seconds later his hands twitch like he wants to check again before he starts fidgeting with a napkin instead. He's restless and anxious and everything Eddie hoped he wouldn't be surrounded by the warmth and love of his family.

A few minutes before midnight they all gather in the garden to watch the fireworks. The kids have all fallen asleep in front of the movie, so they decide to skip lighting any themselves and just enjoy the show. With only 30 seconds left on the timer all the couples are holding each other close. Athena is tugged in closely under Bobby's shoulder, Hen and Karen are sitting so close on a bench that Karen is basically in her wife's lap, Chimney is hugging a giggling Maddie from behind and the Lees are holding hands while Anne rests here head on her husband's shoulder.

Eddie smiles sadly. He knows that being on his own, working through his issues is where he needs to be right now, but he still misses having a partner like this. Nonetheless, he couldn't be more happy for his friends. He looks over to Buck, expecting him to be in a similar bitter-sweet mood, but his best friend is once again on his phone. Tommy has been gone for almost two months, it's maybe the last time in a long while that they're all going to be together like this and normally Buck would be excited and relishing in this feeling of family and togetherness. But instead he's once again checking his texts.

That's when it really hits Eddie that something is wrong. A chorus of "HAPPY NEW YEAR"s erupts around him and thousands of fireworks are going off over LA, but Eddie is looking at his best friend who is staring at his phone and he thinks that maybe they were wrong to talk Buck out of contacting Tommy. Oh well. It's a new year. Time for a new tactic.

[ahyperactivehero]

hey hey hey. do you. wanna drop anything. else about the hockey au? i'm obsessed. frothing. unhinged. abnormal. about it

omg well if paraph wants me to ramble I can ramble! (I love your fic btw!! Haven’t read the newest chapter yet but I’m hype! And congrats on 100k!)

Hmmm let’s see here. I could post a snippet if you wanted? Or I could post some more facts from it? I’ll do some facts unless otherwise asked!

1. Niko recently has started working at Crystal’s ice rink teaching kids how to skate.

2. Becky Aspen and Emma (the ghost girl from episode one, though she’s alive now lol) are in her class and they are obsessed with the boys.

3. Becky wants to be a figure skater like Edwin, and Emma thinks Charles is simply the coolest person on Earth.

4. Technically, there are very few higher up competitions that allow for two men to skate as pairs, so Edwin and Simon aren’t technically partners, but they do train together. Much to Crystal’s annoyance and concern. And later Charles’s as well.

Edit: I also have a playlist for it that I’m working on if people want songs from it lol 👀

When I tell you this AU is big and like fully planned out, I mean it! I’ve just gotta get through some of my other fics to really commit to it!

(Thank you again paraph for the ask!!)

(Ask me about my fics for the end of the year!)

[bluedilute]

I got bored so I decided to share some of my headcanons for Venture. I can't stop thinking about them so I thought this would help

I'll also probably add more as I think of them, so this list might change a little over time

Also no warnings, completely sfw

¤ Their background says they constantly come back from assignments covered in dirt and bruises, which makes me think they probably forget to drink water or eat food often

¤ They're either autistic or have ADHD or both. There's no way this person is neurotypical

¤ I read someone saying that they think Venture is kinda closed-off, and I honestly find that hard to believe. They have an interaction where they told a literal stranger (Lúcio) that they've always wanted to be eaten alive by scarabs. That's not a closed-off or normal thing to say

¤ They're definitely an oversharer. They obviously have the foresight that there's some things they shouldn't tell certain people (I.E. telling an enemy/rival key information) but if it's an everyday acquaintance they'll talk about anything

¤ Eats rocks

¤ That was a joke but seriously they'd definitely fw those chocolate rocks and might have a stash of them somewhere for snacking. I used to eat those all the time but I had them so much I eventually got sick of them. Haven't had one in a few years

¤ I feel like they were one of those kids who couldn't wait to find out what their Christmas presents are so their older family members had to keep an eye on them so they didn't snoop around the tree

¤ Related, they don't seem religious at all, but I think they and their family would still celebrate Christmas anyways, as a family holiday

¤ Also related, their family is probably pretty huge. I like to think their parents are both from Mexico and they just moved to Canada where they had Venture, and all of their family is in Mexico. Probably Dorado

¤ Their Abuelita they mention in Dorado is probably some kind of Historian or even also an archeologist, and loves hearing her grandbaby talk about their passion

¤ They definitely like old people. They always have a bunch of stories from when they were younger, and Venture would love hearing about them

¤ They'd like old music. 1970s-1990s for the most part, since it would technically be old music by then (it is 2077 in the ow universe). Their favorite band from back then is probably Queen

¤ Would love learning about unsolved mysteries. They'd totally watch those essay videos about weird unsolved crimes, and would honestly probably crack a case or two

¤ Their background says they had an affinity for finding lost things since they were a child, so I feel like they'd pick up on things that most people don't, which most of the time happens to relate to things from the past

¤ They would cuddle their friends. Based on their dialogue, they're a very open and kind person, so I think they'd view cuddling as more of an act of trust rather than something you do with a romantic partner

¤ I think they drink alcohol, but never that much. Even on special fancy occasions or whatever, I don't think they'd have too much to drink. They'd probably stick with mocktails mostly

¤ They have a ton of tattoos from cultures all over the world, mostly with some kind of symbolism of the past

¤ Being a historical archeologist, I think they also dabble in natural history. They'd think the titanoboa skeleton is super cool

¤ Also queer history, they'd probably be knowledgeable about that. Destroys homophobes and transphobes with historical facts and logic

-- --

Thank you for taking some time to read my silly little headcanons! I hope ya liked them

[amywritesthings]

Operation: Battlepass (AKA the Totally Awesome Plan to Play Wingman by Yuuji Itadori) / a Choso x OFC story

After choosing to live together as brothers, Yuuji decides to introduce Choso to the wonderful world of gaming. What he didn't expect is for Choso to fall head over heels for his online friend. Naturally, hijinks must ensue, and the gang comes up with a plan to make this romcom a reality.

word count: 3k (part one of ??) tags: au - canon divergence, fluff, romantic comedy, told in yuuji's pov, ultimate big brother!choso, gaming, online friendshipcredit: dividers by @saradika-graphics

read on ao3 here.

PART ONE: THE INTRODUCTION

disclaimer: this is a very crack slice of life story. everyone's alive. itadori is friends with an adult through online gaming. their dynamic is very much 'you're a kid and i have to protect you from weirdos in gaming lobbies'. iris is inspired by my own older online friends growing up. it's nothing nefarious.

Yuuji Itadori has never been a wingman.

Well — kind of.

If you scratch all of the times that Itadori went along with the ‘Save Megumi’ plan conjured up by the brilliant (and twisted) minds of Gojo-sensei and Kugisaki, then he’s technically never been a wingman.

Come to think of it, he’s never really given the act of dating much thought.

It isn’t like he’s ever had much skin in the game. 

Itadori’s never had a partner, for one.

Fushiguro is smooth enough to flirt without anyone’s help, two.

Kugisaki can be a little intimidating all on her own, three.

So it leaves… well, Itadori to cheer on his perfectly-capable friends as they navigate what it means to be a teenager.

It also leaves him wondering if one day he’ll know the tv-show-butterfly feeling of helping two lonely souls get together.

(He really should focus on his own love life, but given the whole Sukuna ordeal? That’s a mess he hasn’t quite ironed out yet.)

Enter: Choso, his alleged big brother from another mother.

(Or another father? That’s another thing he’s gotta iron out. More at 11.)

Getting a two-bedroom bachelor pad with the guy you only met, like, a few weeks ago wasn't on his year-end bingo card. 

"Really?" If Fushiguro and Nobara question something simultanously, that usually spells danger.

"Yeah!" Itadori exclaims, sipping on his tea. "I mean, why not, right?"

"Wasn't he the guy trying to kill you?" Fushiguro grunts.

"Then he changed his mind on a dime and demanded he protect you with every blood cell in his body?" Nobara adds, lips trembling from her attempt to hide a smile at her pun.

(Neither of the boys catch it.)

Itadori grimaces. "Well, when you put it that way..."

Fushiguro leans back. "Trying to kill you—"

Nobara leans forward. "—to defending you—"

They come together again, and Itadori sinks in his booth.

"—in a few hours."

"Okay, okay, I get it!" Itadori whines. "But it'll be fine. We're great pals and figured it out. He's totally normal now."

So normal that Choso's in the booth at the other end of the restaurant, sipping a coffee black with a newspaper upside-down, waiting to take Itadori and his friends to the shopping district later.

(It's a little weird admittedly, but Itadori thinks it's endearing. He cares!)

So, yeah.

He ditched living at Jujutsu High in order to move in with his brother under the approval of his instructor.

Maybe it was a hasty decision, but Itadori will take the blame on that one.

Call it excitement or stupidity, he doesn’t mind.

After spending a lot of his life wishing he had a sibling of his own, it’s kinda cool to live a brother.

Not even a brother, but a big brother who takes his job very seriously.

For starters, Itadori always gets to order wherever he wants for takeout dinner, which never got to happen back at Jujutsu High.

Fushiguro used to be apathetic about what they’d order, which meant Kugisaki took the liberty in steamrolling every decision.

Now?

Itadori gets to show Choso every single one of his favorite foods and then some.

The guy doesn’t eat much — apparently something to do with being a curse, not that Itadori judges — but he thoroughly enjoys the nights watching Choso squint over a takeout box trying to figure out what the heck is in the thing.

It’s nice teaching someone else the ropes, rather than feeling clueless in his own life.

He shows Choso how to cook; how to clean, though they’re both fairly great at lifting furniture to get into those hard-to-reach spots; how to pay bills over the internet — or just to pay for bills in general.

However, there is one important item in life he has to show his big brother:

Video games.

Apparently all he ever played when he was with Jogo, Brains, and Mahito were board games.

Snooze.

Boring.

“Today is your lucky day,” he tells the man with tightly-coiled space buns one day while Choso's watching television.

Itadori thrusts a coveted console controller into his view with excitement.

Choso blinks down at it with confusion.

“Because I — Yuuji Itadori, your little bro — am going to show you the wonders and joys of gaming.”

“I know how to play games, Yuuji,” Choso flatly replies, though there’s a warmth to his tone no matter when he speaks to Itadori.

The pink-haired boy shakes his head.

“I’m not talking about Life or Trouble or, ugh, Monopoly — though you can technically play them on a console.”

Choso’s brows slide high: really?

“Yeah, really.”

“Huh.”

The man with the black strip over his nose tests the weight of the console controller in his hand, lip slightly pouted.

“So what do you… do?”

“Press buttons, mostly.”

Itadori holds up his own decked-out controller — a modified neon blue and black masterpiece that glows in the dark — and presses a few of the buttons to show him.

“You’ll get used to it. Trust me, it’s way easier in practice.”

Sitting beside his brother with crossed legs, he triggers the console to wake up to its dashboard.

The game show disappears, and a brilliant burst of color takes over the screen.

The reaction is priceless — Choso’s eyes widen to the size of saucers.

Aw, yeah, he has him interested now.

“Do you play these games with your friends?” Choso asks quietly, poking at a button with his thumb.

“Sometimes,” Itadori replies. “Fushiguro isn’t a fan of them. Nobara gets way too competitive. Like… scary competitive. We limit her screen time.”

Choso snorts. “I can picture that.”

Itadori grins and opens up a few window menus so he can set up a profile for Choso on his console.

He hands over his main controller and gestures to Choso.

“Pick whatever profile photo you want.”

Sticking his tongue to the left in the exact way Itadori does when he’s concentrating, Choso flicks over the right joystick to search through the images.

“Itadori?”

“Yeah, Choso?”

“I don’t see my face.”

“Huh?”

“The photographs.” Choso points to the screen. “Where am I?”

Itadori blinks before he realizes.

“Oh! You… don’t, ha. You pick a character.” He pauses. “Like how you choose a thimble or a car and stuff in Monopoly.”

Choso sucks in a sharp inhale and nods in understanding before fluttering through a few more options with more confidence.

He settles over a photo of Lara Croft from the Tomb Raider series before clicking it.

“Like this?”

“What, you like Lara?”

“Is that her name?”

“Yeah, she’s kinda super badass.” Itadori takes back the controller to finish up his profile. “My one online friend really likes those games—”

Then, brilliance hits him.

It doesn’t happen often, but today?

Itadori strikes gold.

“Oh, hey — if you want, you can kinda see how me and my one friend play. She’s usually on at this hour. Here.”

He pauses to reach around the couch only to hold out a headset for Choso to take.

“Wear this. It’s my spare.”

With that same inquisitive squint, Choso observes at the headphones with scrutiny.

Itadori showcases how to put them on, popping his RGB headset over his head and squishing his pink hair to his head.

It takes a little finessing with his hairstyle, but Choso does the same. He lets the headphones sit on his head and doesn’t move.

“You good?”

“What?” Choso’s voice shouts over the noise-cancelling feature.

“I said are you—” Itadori pauses, holding up a thumbs up.

Choso blinks. Then his thumb raises.

Good.

Itadori blinks back to the television screen where he signs on as himself — YuuMasterGeneral — before searching for a particular name on his friends list.

Truth be told, he’s only ever talked to this girl.

He has no clue what she looks like in person because he’s never met her in person, but she sounds pretty nice.

After Grandpa got sick, there wasn’t much to do around the house.

Sitting in a quiet house wasn’t cutting it, so Itadori tried his hand at online gaming lobbies.

Most of them sucked.

Most of them were full of assholes.

But he got lucky — an older girl that went by the moniker of Iris was nice enough to join his team.

That first night, they talked for hours about nothing in particular. Eventually he told her about his grandpa, and she added him as a friend. Iris told him to poke her whenever she was on so he had someone to play with.

Honestly? It was exactly the kind of lifeline he needed at the time.

After that, he gamed with Iris pretty regularly. Although they mostly game, sometimes they chat about their other hobbies. He's learned she has a full-time job, just recently graduating from university. A few times she's given a sprinkle of real life advice, from an adult figuring it out a couple of steps ahead of a teenager.

He felt safe. Seen.

He and Iris have been friends ever since.

Iris was good at gaming. Like, impossibly good.

So good she’d probably even beat Nobara.

But she wasn’t obnoxious about her wins, which was why Itadori enjoyed chatting with her so much.

Last time he talked to her was maybe six weeks ago. She’d been busy with her day job, but Itadori had been really busy with… well, everything to do with sorcery.

Surely she wouldn’t get weirded out about showing his older brother the ropes, right?

Iris was a private person, something Itadori could very respect, but he felt comfortable enough to invite her into this little debacle of his life now that Choso was going to be a permanent member of his family.

IRISSIRI IS ONLINE.

“Oh, cool, she’s on.”

“Who?” Choso asks, pushing a headphone off of his ear so he can hear Yuuji properly.

“My friend, Iris,” Itadori explains as he clicks to invite her to a party chat.

He then adds Choso, whose eyes widen at the magical sound of his little brother’s voice suddenly coming through the headset clear as day.

“This sounds…” 

Choso trails off, blinking as he hears the echo of his own voice.

Itadori laughs and leans over to mess with his settings once more. 

“Sorry — gotta mute yourself, buddy, otherwise we’ll get an echo going.”

Then a tiny chime sounds, and the brothers simultaneously stare at the television.

“Hello?”

Her voice is smooth as honey and soft, like she’s surprised to get the call.

Itadori immediately perks up, but he notices how Choso doesn’t move.

He just… stares, lips parted.

“Iris!” he greets excitedly. “Hey! Long time, no chat.”

“Yuuji,” she greets in return with a small smile in her voice. “Hey, no kidding. How’s it going? And who’s this…. Guest, person?”

“Oh — I haven’t given him a username yet. Iris, I wanted you to meet my big brother, Choso. Choso, this is my online friend Iris.”

He turns his head to look at Choso in the glow of the tv, but his brows furrow when he notices the pale complexion of Choso’s face turn a warm pink.

“Choso?” she asks, and Choso’s throat bobs.

Maybe he’s nervous about new people?

He’s never really been that nervous before.

“I didn’t know you had siblings!”

“Ha, yeah, it’s a complicated situation,” Itadori explains before flicking up his microphone stick so he can whisper directly to Choso: “You can speak in the microphone, you know.”

Choso clears his throat, his pink face turning scarlet in stark contrast to the black stripe across the bridge of his nose, before nodding. 

“....I’m his big brother.”

“Cool, cool,” she chides in return, and Itadori can’t even believe what he’s seeing:

His older brother practically melts in his seat as he presses a hand gently to his headphone as if to push it closer to his ear.

"It’s super nice to meet you, big brother Choso.”

Choso bites his lower lip and glances up at the screen. “You… have a really pretty voice—”

Uh oh.

Abort mission.

Itadori flies off of the end of the couch to quickly flick his microphone up to mute them both for a little familial aside. “Dude!”

Choso’s surprised, still sporting the blush. 

“What?”

“You can’t hit on my online friend!”

“I wasn’t hitting anyone, I was talking!” Choso hisses right back under his breath.

“Hitting on, not hitting!"

"Whatever!"

"Look: telling my friend she has a pretty voice is a little weird, okay?”

Suddenly the man looks a little worried. “It is?”

Itadori nods. “Yeah. Girls get bothered online all the time. Just… be cool.” 

He slowly drops his microphone back down.

Choso deflates and nods.

“Sorry about that! Yeah, no, he’s never played video games before so I thought we could show him how it’s done.”

“It's fine. But wait: he’s never played video games before?” Iris asks over her mic with a little laugh. “Seriously?”

Choso smiles small at that.

It’s lopsided and goofy. 

Itadori feels like he’s in the twilight zone.

“Did he live under a rock?” she adds in a gentle tease.

“Something like that.” Yuuji tells her, quickly loading up Fortnite for a game of Duos so Choso can listen and watch. “He’ll just hang with us while we play, if that’s cool with you?”

“So long as he doesn’t mind me asking him questions while we play,” Iris replies, sending a quick game invite to Itadori’s screen.

Both Itadori and Choso stare at one another.

Choso points at himself.

Itadori nods and points at him.

“Me?” Choso asks in a bit of a confused voice.

“Well, I’ve known your little brother for two years now, but I don’t exactly know you, ” Iris explains. “In a way, I kinda felt like his far-away big sister, so I'm happy to know he's got someone looking after him. So how old are you?”

Choso sits up a little taller.

“I'm one hundred and fif—”

“The same age as you!” Itadori chirps, cutting Choso off. “He’s twenty five.”

He can not have his normie friends find out about curse spirits and all of that insanity.

Itadori’s just grateful Sukuna never appeared cackling at his cheek in the middle of an intense match to make a pass out of bad taste.

Choso looks absolutely confused, but he slowly nods in tandem with Itadori’s pleading nod.

“...yes, I am... twenty-five years old.”

“Sweet, same age,” Iris chirps, and that goofy little look shows up on Choso’s face again.

(What gives, dude?!)

“And you’ve never played a single game before?” she asks as they load into the next lobby.

“I like Life.”

“The board game?”

“Yeah.”

“I was so bad at that game.”

“The spinner can really put you in debt,” Choso agrees with a solemn nod—

And Iris giggles.

Itadori blinks.

As he departs his character from the sky bus at the location Iris placed on the map, his lips begin to pull down to a grimace.

He’s never heard her laugh like that.

Not even when she's put toxic guys to shame and made them rage quit in Call of Duty.

“How did you meet my younger brother?” Choso asks, suddenly emboldened by the laugh.

“We met in a Destiny 2 lobby, actually,” Iris explains happily. “He helped me with a few of my bigger raids. When I found out the kid was fifteen-something, I felt like I had to make sure no one was a jerk to him in any future lobbies.”

“So you protected him?” Choso murmurs with surprise.

“More like shepherded him through games, sorta like a—”

“—big sister would,” Choso finishes for her.

“Kind of! Like I said earlier, Yuuji’s a good kid. And he’s really solid at playing games.” Iris clears her throat. “Yuuji, six o’clock. There is a drop over there.”

“Aye, aye, ma’am.”

“Yuuji.”

“Miss!” Itadori corrects. “I mean Miss!”

“Jesus, he acts like I’m fifty sometimes,” Iris bemoans, and Choso smirks.

“Yeah. He acts like I’m a hundred and fifty,” the older man cheekily replies, and Itadori scowls.

On Itadori’s screen, they watch as a potential enemy rounds the corner of the building Itadori’s looting —

He doesn't act fast enough to attack —

But suddenly they fall to their knees, before bursting into confetti with all of their items strewn about.

K.O. 

They both hear Iris whistle from her microphone. 

“Respect your elders, kid.”

“Thanks, Eye. I didn’t realize there were people on my spot,” Itadori chimes.

Yeah.

Because he’s too busy listening to Choso act like he’s going to eat the mic to get closer to Iris —

And the fact that his online friend, his very normal friend, is giggling the way some girls giggle whenever…

They look…

At Gojo-sensei.

Itadori stops moving his thumbs on the controller, too deep in thought to play as Iris carries them.

She's scoping perimeters while he's busy putting the puzzle pieces together.

He's blushing.

She's giggling.

His Mikasa Ackerman avatar gets shot down, and Iris is shouting that she's coming back to save him —

But his eyes are on the guy opposite to him on the couch staring intently.

Not at the game, no.

At Iris’ little avatar that shows up every time she speaks.

Her icon's a little chibi Lara Croft.

Kind of like his generic Lara Croft icon.

Some weirdly-fated choice in a sea of happenstances.

Huh.

Wait a second.

"Hey, Choso, do you mind taking over for me in the next game?"

Choso whips his attention, eyes widening with uncertainty. "Me?"

Iris laughs again, and Itadori sees it in real-time: that butterfly-in-your-stomach goofy face, smack dab on Choso's lips.

"I'm down if you're down, Choso."

Quickly he takes the glowing controller from his younger brother and straightens up. "I can learn."

"Just don't go running off on me on the map, alright?" Iris requests playfully. "Stick with me and we'll easily get to last twenty."

"I won't fail you," Choso promises with a nod.

Itadori crosses his arms, observing and listening to Iris explain the game gently to Choso.

Although she was just as gentle with him, Itadori can hear something different in her voice. It's like she's trying to get Choso to answer her so he can talk. She asks him questions that will get him to talk more and more, until they're having a full-blown conversation without Itadori in sight.

Interesting.

He likes her voice, that much he's deduced.

But does she like his voice, too?

Something's happening here.

The cogs are turning.

Maybe —

Just maybe —

Yuuji Itadori can actually be a real, bonafide wingman.

.

[felicitysmoaksx]

“ i’m helping you, and that’s final. i’m not taking no for an answer. now. where’s your kitchen? i’m making us some comfort food. ”

Day 5 of the Advent Prompt Challenge! Set during 4x10 of Chicago Med and this also falls in my Voight Family Values Universe but before Connor actually defined his relationship with Sarah. Also it's a slight continuation from Day 2. And I know it's extremely late, but this drabble just kept going and going off the rails. And it's been a rough few weeks for me. So please be kind.

"I'm fine, Connor. You don't need to do any of this." Sarah said as she snuggled more into the passenger seat of his car. Her injured arm was out of the confines of her jacket. She yawned and yeah, he did need to do this. So he didn’t respond as he maneuvered back into traffic as they left Monique’s apartment because Sarah had offered to drive the nurse home. But Connor wasn’t about to let Sarah drive home by herself. 

“Why did we drive Monique home?” He asked, instead of trying to argue with her. 

“She doesn’t think she has any friends. At work or outside. and if he hadn’t been for my big brothers...Or even my older sister, it’s easy for me to see how easily that could’ve been me without them.” She explained before adding, “She also thinks what happened was her fault. I’m trying to show her how untrue that actually is.”

“I didn’t know you had siblings,” Connor said, placing his hand on her thigh because he needed some kind of physical connection, and with her arm the way it was, he couldn’t hold her hand with the way her arm was.

“I don’t. At least not technically.” His lover said and Connor looked over at her at a red light. The unspoken question in his eyes. But Sarah couldn’t see it because she trying to fall asleep. (Connor didn’t know it but that’s also why he was getting all this information from Sarah. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be getting any of this information if she was awake.)

“How’s that?” He asked her. Sarah yawned and glanced at him with sleepy brown eyes before a honk pulled him out of the moment. The light was now green. Connor pushed his foot down on the gas.

“When my dad left, he left me with his friend and her two kids. She wasn’t as fond of me as her kids were…are. They’re my siblings in everything except for blood.“

Connor didn’t know how to respond to that. But something didn’t make sense to him, “But wait, you said something about your dad in the hospital.”

Sarah yawned again as he pulled into her parking spot at her apartment. “When I was eleven, I was taken in by a police officer and a school teacher. They took guardianship of me and just stepped up for me when I needed someone.”

“Hence why Detective Olinsky showed up…is he a friend of your dad’s?” Connor asked, after he had made his way around the car and opened up her door to help her out. He glanced down at her, tucking her jacket over her injured arm and grabbing her hand. There was that contact that he needed. 

“Al was my Dad’s partner for over ten years. The police commander forbade my dad and sister from getting involved with the case. So they sent Al.” Sarah led him into the building and up her three-story walk up. (The building didn’t have an elevator) Connor glanced up and saw Detective Lindsay. 

“Is that way they also sent Detective Lindsay?” He questioned as they continued to down the hallway. His lover sighed, “No, Erin is my sister.”