#i want to read bedtime stories and give him a nice meal and a bath he deserves the world

[arochaco]

movie knuckles makes me sad

[ooops-i-arted]

@starla1979 said: Well now we need the story behind this! 😂😂😂

Boga Jr. wants to play with Shiny Papa.

Shiny Papa has been busy all day.  She brought him her ball, but he scratched her feathers and asked one of her Green Nestmates to throw it for her.  It’s fun, because they throw very far, and sometimes make it move without touching it so she can chase it.  She likes it very much.  But it’s not playing with Shiny Papa.

During meal time she stays under the table.  She puts her head on Shiny Papa’s lap and only eats the People Food that falls on the floor, not anything on the table.  Shiny Papa pats her head, but when she brings him one of her Nestmates’ stuffed toys to wrestle with, he just pats her head again and gets her Varactyl Food instead.

She plays more with her Nestmates in the afternoon.  She keeps them out of trouble and away from the pond.  She makes sure all of them are safe.  When the fall she puts them back up.  She is a very good girl.  But Shiny Papa doesn’t play with her.  He brushes her back and makes her scales shiny and clean.  He play-fights with his friend, the one with blue scales and black not-feathers on her head.  But no playing with her.

All the Nestmates go in their little nests.  She brings blankets and soft toys for them.  She carries back the ones that run away.  She sits quietly while Shiny Papa reads the bedtime story, and when he is done she goes ahead of him to make his nest like she does every night, since he doesn’t know how to make one.  She is a very, very good girl!  But Shiny Papa still doesn’t play with her.  He pats her head, walks into the wet room, and shuts the door.

First she goes back to the nest she and Shiny Papa share.  She fixes it more.  But that’s boring.  She wants to play.

She goes back to the door to the wet room.  Shiny Papa always wants to be alone in there.  Even the Green Nestmates aren’t supposed to go in.  They have all been trying all week.  Shiny Papa hasn’t even been able to go in the falling water.

She isn’t supposed to go in.  But Shiny Papa hasn’t played with her in days.  Not for a nice long time without her Green Nestmates.

She noses the door open and peeks inside.  Shiny Papa is sitting in the Giant Water Bowl!  Why is he sitting in the water?  It’s for drinking.  But this is strange water.  It has bubbles.

The Green Nestmates like to play in water bowls full of bubbles.  Shiny Papa is playing?  Without her?

As soon as she whines he looks over.  “Boga Jr., no,” he says.  “Go out.”

She knows those words, but she doesn’t like them.  She wants to play.  She takes one step forward.

“No,” says Shiny Papa.  “Come on, girl, I haven’t bathed in four days.  Go on.”

She dips her head.  She is supposed to listen to her Shiny Papa.  But Shiny Papa is supposed to play with her.

Shiny Papa isn’t playing.  He is rubbing bubbles over his skin with a wet cloth.  There is a dry cloth on the sink countertop.  That is important to Shiny Papa when he has no clothes on.  It’s fun to play with and run around with but Shiny Papa doesn’t want to lose it when he has no clothes or shiny armor.

If she has that, Shiny Papa will definitely play with her.

It’s just far enough away from him.  Shiny Papa sees her run in and grab it, and he yells “NO!” but she is fast.  She has the dry cloth now.  She hears footsteps as Shiny Papa runs after her.  Now they can play chase!

Shiny Papa says lots of words he tells the Green Nestmates not to say, especially when he slides on the floor.  The floor where he goes is wet and when she runs back she can slide too!  This is a fun game!  She loves it!

“Boga Jr.!  No!  Stop!  Give that back!” Shiny Papa says, running after her.  She goes even faster!  This is the best game ever!

She hears a thunk behind her, and when she skids to a halt Shiny Papa isn’t behind her anymore.

She calls for him.  “Ow,” says Shiny Papa.

Boga Jr. goes back.  Shiny Papa is on the floor, next to one of the Nestmates’ toys, and there is red on his foot.  He is hurt.  He is hurt because of the game.

She is very sorry.  She drops his dry cloth in his lap and purrs her sorry noise.  She will be a good girl now.

Shiny Papa rubs her head feathers.  “It’s all right, girl.  It was an accident.”

She licks his foot to make it all clean, and she follows Shiny Papa back to the wet room.  At first she waits outside, but then she goes back.  She puts the toys back in their box and makes the nest again, and when Shiny Papa comes out of the wet room in clothes again she curls up close in their nest and makes sure he is comfortable.

“Good girl,” Shiny Papa says, and she tucks her head in his elbow to go to sleep.

[flightrules]

Which Kind Do You Want to Be?

Chapter 6: No Promises

Sometimes, a sleepless night is a good thing.

Summary: This is a story about trust and kindness, loneliness and loss, belief and transgression. And two people crossing paths just long enough to find each other.

Previous chapters: I keep hearing tumblr suppresses posts with links. So, visit the pinned post on my blog or the same username on AO3.  

Relationships and characters: Din/female reader (both similar age to Din in canon), Grogu, and a cameo from Peli.

Rating: Mature? Explicit? Anyhow, grown-up sexy stuff. Please be old enough to be reading this kind of thing.

Tags and warnings: Moments of angst, domesticity, kindness, explicit consent, and Din doing his best to be a conscientious parent in the midst of everything. Heads up for descriptions of canon-typical violence, mention of past dubious consent, and a moment of (unintentional) violence between our protagonists. Ending is bittersweet.

Supper is the same as the midday meal, cold rations washed down with tinny tasting water. "You eat like this all the time?"

"I try not to," he says. "He needs real food. I haven't had much chance to go shopping."

The child is sitting on your lap now, as you hold his little tray for him and he picks out bites to eat. He's seemed subdued ever since your game of chase went so wrong. 

It's a bit of a balancing act to manage your own meal while keeping the tray steady and the little body balanced. But you turned down the man's offer to take him.

You should be careful about letting the child think there's something changing here, that you'll be a presence in his life. 

It's just so nice to imagine, for a small moment, that you could be. That a child's laughter could be part of your world again.

There's not much conversation over the meal. You're tired and your body still has that vague achy feeling, like it isn't ready to forget getting thrown to your knees. 

The ration trays get washed in the sink again, and then the child gets a bath in the sink again, too.  

"You don't mind, do you?" he asks first. "He doesn't like the sonic shower. I think it's hard on his ears."

You stay at the table while he pushes his sleeves up past his elbows, pops the child into a mess of warm water and soap bubbles, and lets him splash around a bit. By the time the man lifts him out again, there are bubbles all across the counter and water on the floor. "I've told you not to do that," he says mildly as he wraps the child in a towel and, holding him in one arm, swipes a rag across the counter and then uses one foot to wipe the rag along the floor. 

He crouches to pick the rag up again, a perfectly balanced movement with the child cuddled against his chest. 

"I'll let you get him ready for bed," you say, getting up from the table and resisting the urge to go over there and melt yourself against this man. You are not his family, or the child's, and you need to remember it for yourself as much as for the little one.

The bedtime routine consists of a quiet, one-sided conversation, the man narrating all the little things they did today and the child cooing in response. You take the opportunity to use the ‘fresher while he’s busy in the little sleeping room, then spread out your bedroll, stuffing some clean clothes in a carry-sack to serve as a pillow. It's early, but you stretch out and close your own eyes, letting your back and shoulders rest flat against the blanket. 

There's something comforting about his voice, the slight gravel in it, the way almost everything he tells the child is framed as "we." You've never been sure how much the child understands, but you hope he can at least hear how safe he is in this man's care.

You're almost asleep, yourself, by the time he gets to how he hurt you. "I made a mistake," he says, clear and matter-of-fact. "I'll always protect you, but that doesn't mean it's all right to hurt our friend. I want you to know we can trust her. Don't make the same mistake I did."

*

That's very sweet, you think drowsily. As if the tiny creature could do you any harm. 

"Are you awake?"

You open your eyes to find he's standing a couple of meters away. Earlier today you might have thought that strange, but now you think, Right. No sudden moves.

"May I…" his voice trails off.

You sit up, making room for him to join you. And now it's your turn to ask, as he's left a careful few centimeters space between. "I'd like to touch you."

His voice is quiet, his usual confident tone sounding suddenly half strangled. "I'd like that."

You don't do it right away, though. You look at him, contemplating. There are curls falling over his forehead again. The scruff of beard he had yesterday is gone. Did he shave for you, or is that just something he does every few days? With the helmet covering his face all the time, he certainly wouldn't have to worry about looking neat. 

Loose as it is, the shirt he's wearing does nothing to hide his solid-looking shoulders, and you've already seen the shape of his chest and waist from the t-shirt he had on this morning. Stars, that was so long ago.

You turn your body toward him and reach out, so slowly, to skim your hands over his hips and under his shirt, pushing the fabric up to bare the flat plane of his stomach, and then a little more so your hands are framing the bottom of his ribs. "Help me?" you say, meaning help me get your shirt off, but he's just staring at you, lips slightly parted, not moving at all.

"You tell me if you want me to stop," you remind him, and then get up onto your knees so you can lift his shirt further. The bruises from earlier remind you to move carefully, but you're able to shift your weight so it almost doesn't hurt to kneel.

He has dark hair across his chest. You resist the urge to run your thumb across one nipple, instead asking him more clearly to lift his arms so you can get the shirt over his head.

He does, now, taking over with a single smooth movement and then actually stopping to fold the thing and set it aside. 

There's something about that that makes your heart hurt. That makes you think you could fall in love with him, if you had the opportunity to try.

You do finally have the chance to see what happens when you drag your teeth across his ribs. You start at his collarbone, lining kisses from neck to shoulder, then down over the muscles of his chest. As you do you can feel his breathing quicken, turning to a gasp as you go from soft kisses to the scrape of teeth. You should probably remind him to breathe but now you're tracing your tongue along a pale line of scar where, you realize, the beskar breastplate doesn't reach.

His hands on your shoulders stop you. He's gentle but firm, guiding your body back upright, giving you plenty of time to fight it if you want to. 

You don't want to. 

"Show me how to kiss you," he says. 

"It takes practice." Kissing a new partner's mouth usually starts out clumsy and uncoordinated, until you find each other's rhythm.

"We have until morning," he says. 

It is, indeed, uncoordinated at first. He's obviously got the general idea--you can't spend 40-something years in this galaxy without seeing what people do--but no idea how to actually do it. He's a quick learner, though, echoing back your movements until he's got the hang of it. And then that precision kicks in and he's got your mouth trapped beneath his, tongue at the corner of your lips and then gently opening you up to his warmth, and you're the one who's forgetting how to breathe.

It's new to him and it's been a while for you, and the two of you end up making out like teenagers for a while, his hand against your jaw and your fingers in his hair, and when you need to catch your breath you bury your head in his shoulder until gently insistent hands lift your face to his again.

What stops you is a small sound from the child. You might not even have noticed it, coming from behind the metal door, but he's already turning his head to listen. He kisses your forehead before getting up to trigger the controls.

The noises from the hammock sound like sobs. 

"Hey," the man tells him, sitting on the edge of the mattress, leaning in to lay a hand over the little body. "Whatever it is, I'm here." He turns to you. "He cries in his sleep sometimes. Usually I sing to him."

"Then you should." You get up to go sit beside him on the floor and lean your head against his knee. It's the same lullaby you heard that first night on board the Razor Crest. He can barely carry a tune but that's all right, you don't know the melody anyway and you don't understand the words. You stay there for a while even after the child's cries have stopped, as he continues through a half-dozen verses, you resting against him and his hand against your hair.

*

More of the evening disappears into figuring out his body, into his hands finding confidence in how to touch your skin. 

The last time someone touched you with such reverence, you were probably sixteen years old, trying new things for the first time with a boy you'd grown up with, whose body you'd seen change as you both slipped toward adulthood. He's long gone, that boy, not even buried, just lost in the ash that used to be your home.

Your shirt's off now, too, and he folded it for you, and you can't even explain why that makes you ache inside.

He's tracing your breasts with his fingertips, light against your skin but following every curve. He seems to know, by instinct maybe, to leave your nipples until they're aching for him to touch, and then to follow his fingers with his mouth, with his tongue and then lips and then, so very gently, with his teeth. He's got you panting, your fingers digging hard into his shoulder until you suddenly realize that's the side that was bothering him and you drop your hand. 

He looks up at you, and it takes him a minute to find words. "What's wrong?"

You're slow to make sense, too. "You--you're hurt, I don't want to--" 

He looks down at his own shoulder, the one you were working on together this morning. Then he's pulling you in to him, so very slow again and careful, until you're skin to skin against his body, your breasts pressed up against the muscle of his chest, his head bent down to yours. "Thank you," he says, and it's a whisper against your temple and then just the two of you breathing together for a while, the hum off the ship's engines the only other sound.

You know the shapes of the muscles on his back now. You've run your fingers along the grooves between them. You know now how his skin feels different over scars, and how the burn scar at his neck is different from the knife scar on his side. 

You were surprised to find the small, circular bump of a contraceptive implant on his arm, and at first you looked at him in accusation. From what he’s told you, he shouldn’t have needed it. But he just shrugged. "When I swore the Creed," he said, "I swore I would care for any child I made. I've never been in a place to be able to care for a child." You could feel your eyebrows go up as you nodded toward his bunk, where the tiny being in his care was sleeping. "I'm still not," he said. "It seemed like a good idea, to make sure it couldn't happen." 

He knows the most sensitive spot on your neck by now, and he knows the way you'll move your head if he kisses you there. He knows that if he runs his hands over your belly you'll jump at first, ticklish, but then lean into his touch if he uses a little more pressure. He's figured out what happens if he traces the shell of your ear with his tongue. 

Right now you're kneeling behind him, one hand on his chest, one finger sliding over a stiffened nipple while the other hand traces the hair that trails down his abdomen to the waistband of his trousers. For the first time, you slide your fingertips beneath the fabric. His hand comes up to wrap around your wrist and hold your arm still.

But he doesn't tell you to stop. 

You tuck your chin over his shoulder and ask him if you should.

He doesn't answer. He's sitting up straighter, though, that uncomfortable posture you'd started to hope he'd left behind.

Carefully, you move your hands from his body, and his fingers slide from your wrist as you do. You shift around to face him. 

Slow. You promised him slow. 

Your own body is edging toward impatience. You've been wet for him for hours and, although you're not complaining about any of this so far, there's a sense of emptiness that your body is letting you know, in no uncertain terms, it would like him to fill.

You check in before you move next, get his permission to settle yourself back on his lap, knees to either side of his hips. It lets you press against the length of him through his trousers, and you find you're shivering as the most sensitive part of you connects there.

His voice is a vibration through your own chest as he says, "I can't."

You know you should let go, move back, but your muscles won't listen to your brain until he speaks again, until ingrained reflex takes over when he says the word "Stop." 

He's keeping his hands to himself now, still breathing a little hard but keeping his body constrained. One hand clenches and then slowly opens, coming to rest at his side.

"If we keep going," he says, "I'm going to want you to stay."

Your heart skips for a second, and you're already thinking, yes.

"I can't let you stay." He's sitting so still. His fingers move again, what seems to be an involuntary tic. It's his right hand, the one that would reach for the blaster that's usually at his hip.

"I can't be distracted. If I had to choose between you and the child--"

He doesn't finish. You don't need him to. You reach over, slowly, slowly, and take his right hand. Slowly, you help him open those clenched fingers, and you place a kiss on his palm. "No promises," you remind him. And then, because there's nothing else you can say: "I'm leaving at Pavotha."

It's still so curious, getting to see his face. How sometimes his expressions are open and sometimes they're unreadable, like in all those years with the helmet on he's lost the ability to mirror certain feelings. Lost the muscle memory.

Right now, though, there's no mistaking that you're looking at pure gratitude.

"Do you still want to stop?" you ask him, and you're asking a little bit for him, but it's mostly because your body is longing to see the rest of his, to touch him in new places. To settle in against him, take his cock inside you, and move together until the rest of the galaxy disappears.

"No promises?" he says.

And, although your whole body is screaming at you not to say it, you tell him again: "Only that I'm leaving."

*

If you were planetside, it would be dawn by now. But here in the dimly lit hold, there's only the chrono to tell you it's near morning.

You're not looking at it though.

You're sitting on his lap again, legs around his waist and feet planted against the floor. His hands are on your hips. You showed him how this position works and now he's helping you move, bringing you down against him so his cock is buried deep inside you, holding you so there's pressure against your clit as he presses closer, then lifting your body so the length of him slides against your opening, setting every nerve on fire. You didn't teach him to pause sometimes, keeping your hips in place against him, and lean up to kiss you. He figured that out on his own.

He lasted longer than you might have expected the first time, when you drew his body over you and slow disappeared when he said "Are you sure?" and you said "Yes." And although you guided him in gently, carefully, neither one of you could stop after that. You bit your own lip so hard, trying not to cry out and wake the child, that there was blood on both your faces by the end.

You're going to have to sleep soon, before the child wakes up and the new day starts. But for now you're going to stay like this, your skin slicked with your sweat and his, the taste of him in your mouth, and the sacredness of trust between you.

[sethrine-writes]

Devil-sitter May Cry, Ch. 3

Pairing: Dante x F!Reader, Vergil x F!Reader (Undecided)

Words:  2150

Warning:  Cuteness, Defensive/protective Nero

Story Summary: Low on cash and desperate for a job, you reply to a flyer for a babysitting position. Little did you know that the opportunity to watch over two special boys would bring your life so much mayhem and adventure…and, perhaps, a chance at a family of your own.

A/N: First day on the job! How does the morning go down? Guess you gotta read to find out...!

------

Chapter 3 - Early Morning Start

Waking up at 5:30 a.m. had never brought upon such relief and excitement as it did that particular morning.

The brothers of Devil May Cry had asked you to be at the shop by around seven, and given your one-hour commute, the early morning wake-up was a necessary evil you would gladly deal with.

A hasty breakfast of toast and the last few dredges of orange juice in your fridge were downed quickly as you rushed to get ready for the day ahead. You flung your bag over your shoulder, ensuring for the third time since waking that your bus pass was in the front pocket, and practically ran out the door and out of the complex to the bus stop just down the block.

Devil May Cry was on the other side of Red Grave City, and you happened to live near the outskirts of the bordering town. Luckily, the bus route had a drop off close to the shop, barely a five minute walking distance that gave you time to, once again, calm the nervous energy that had been building during your ride.

First day jitters were always the worst, but having met the boys beforehand gave your mind a sense of ease you were glad to have.

You approached the shop with time to spare, enough to ask any last-minute questions you had about caring for the boys. Just as you made to open the door, it swung out, revealing a grinning Dante on the other side.

"Ah, right on time," he mused, and you barely had a moment to wonder how he knew you were right there in the first place before you were being ushered inside.

"We got an easy job lined up for today," he began straight away, "so we should be back before dinner time, if everything goes smoothly. If not, then the boys will be sure to hound you for something decent to eat, so anything in the fridge is fair game."

You nodded along as Dante gave you the general run-down of how the day usually progressed, as well as giving you some tips for general things that would come in handy for caring for the boys. He even ensured you knew the basics of answering the phone, just in case a call came in.

"I think Vergil wrote some other things down," Dante mused after a moment, shifting some papers around on the much neater-looking desk with a bit of confusion.

"On your left," Vergil spoke up suddenly, nearly causing you to jump out of your skin with how close he was. Where did he even come from?!

"You're really good at that sneaking thing," you said aloud, flustered from having been surprised.

"So I've been told," he all but deadpanned as he moved to the opposite side of the desk and plucked a small notebook from under a few sealed envelopes.

"I've not written much," he said, "only the most important details. See to it that V's schedule is kept to."

Vergil held the small notebook out to you, of which you took immediately from his grasp. You thanked him sincerely, of which earned you a small nod from the intimidating man.

"I think you've got it from here," Dante grunted as he hefted what looked like a massive sword over his shoulder with ease, one you hadn't realized had been leaning against the desk this whole time. You were sure your eyes were as big as saucers at seeing such a display, forgetting momentarily that you had been hired by demon hunters to watch over their sons.

"Y-yeah, of course," you assured, rattling off the few things that deemed to be highlighted. "Uh, Nero is high-energy, so keep him snacked up and occupied; inhaler for V is in the second desk drawer; outside play after lunch; no naps after three, or bedtime will be hell. And keep to V's schedule, got it."

"She may survive us, yet," Dante chuckled as he glanced over to Vergil, who answered with a quirk of a smile.

You only had that moment to really study the twins and their attire, how they both wore full length coats made of well-worn leather, hands braced with fingerless gloves. Instead of a massive sword like Dante's, Vergil held a sleek katana within his grasp, elegant in its design, from what you were able to see of it.

They were so very different.

"Nero and V are awake," Vergil informed as he and Dante moved toward the front doors. "They will be ready for breakfast."

"I'll get to it, then," you assured, watching the twins head out. As a final thought, you couldn't help but wish them luck on their hunt.

"Be careful out there!"

They both turned to fix you with oddly amused looks, Dante giving a playful scoff as Vergil simply continued out the door.

"Don't miss us too much, babe," Dante parted with a wink, and just like that, you were left alone in the main room of Devil May Cry, both a business and home to two demon hunters and their young sons, of whom you would be watching over for the foreseeable future.

What a world you lived in.

You glanced down at the small notebook in your hand, flipping it open to find Vergil's neat penmanship inside. True to his word, there were bullets of immediate information, such as specific times V usually did specific things. Medicine and stretches after breakfast, usually a small nap after outside play, and more stretches right before dinner.

Bedtime routine wouldn't be necessary for your first day on the job, but it was nice that Vergil had the forethought to jot everything down for when you would inevitably need it. You'd been told they had hectic schedules and often responded to calls as they came in, so there were certain to be days you would be on night watch, as well.

Closing the notebook, you placed it within your bag for safekeeping, hefting the tote off your shoulder and leaving it in the chair behind the desk for the time being.

The kitchen entrance was just to the left side of the desk, obscured somewhat by a slight wall partition. You made your way into the area, finding the kitchen and dining area modest in size and pretty well kept. The counters and stove top were clean, as was the table, yet there were some dishes left in one side of the double sinks from what looked like their dinner the night previous.

Well, they were busy, single dads who ran a business together - what did you honestly expect?

Already set on the task at hand, you began shifting the dishes about as you filled the opposite side with warm, soapy water. You'd be dirtying some, anyways, so there wasn't really any reason to leave soiled plates and pans and cutlery lying about if you were already going to wash what you used.

It was as you were sliding the dirty dishes into their makeshift bubble bath to soak that you heard movement from behind, a yawn and the soft little thumps of feet hitting hardwood.

You turned, smiling sweetly at finding Nero and V standing just outside the kitchen, groggy-eyed and still sporting their pajamas.

"Good morning, you two," you greeted warmly, shifting into babysitter mode, or as your best friend liked to call it, your "mother hen" mode.

"Morning," Nero replied, followed by a grumbled, sleepy version of V's own greeting as he yawned and rubbed at his eyes sleepily.

It seemed he was a bit more on the sluggish side, but Nero took it in stride and carefully led V by the hand toward the table, ensuring his cousin had made it into the chair before taking up the one right beside him.

Frankly, it was an incredibly cute display, one you had a feeling you would be seeing quite a lot of in the future.

"Anything in particular you boys want for breakfast?" you asked as you opened the fridge, finding a decent variety of foods for both meals and snacks. "I was thinking maybe omelets-"

"Oh, spinach and cheese and bacon!" Nero shouted out excitedly, hands fisted against the table in an eager display. "V likes ham and cheese in his."

"Yeah? Well, I think I can manage that just fine. How about some juice?"

"Orange juice!"

"Apple, please."

You grabbed the two containers and set them on the counter, rummaging through the upper cabinets until you came across the cups. You poured each juice a little over halfway to avoid any major spills and handed them over, orange for Nero, and apple for V.

They both thanked you and smiled big, Nero almost immediately downing half his cup's worth while V sipped at his as he slowly continued to blink away the lingering sleepiness he held.

Satisfied that the boys were placated for the moment, you went about starting breakfast, gathering all the ingredients and rummaging around to find the utensils necessary to cook with. Lucky for you, it wasn't too hard to find what you needed, and within minutes, the kitchen was smelling of fried bacon and ham pieces.

As you cooked, you could hear Nero talking animatedly to V about the dream he had last night, going into vivid detail about the monsters he fought on a far-off planet.

It still amazed you just how vibrant a child Nero was, especially after seeing his bashful demeanor upon your first meeting. It really did seem like he was just wary of new people, not necessarily shy, just guarded. Once he'd gotten a chance to be around you, it had been such a jarring change into seeing his true personality, and it was largely thanks to V's eagerness to include Nero in what he had been doing.

You continued to muse on your thoughts while cooking, plating up the omelets as they finished. You then made your way back to the table and placed their respective meals in front of them, once again heralding thanks and sweet grins as both of them dug in.

Satisfied, you went back to the double sinks, going about washing the dishes that had been soaking. Luckily, there weren't too many, and the stuck-on bits were washing away with relative ease.

"Aren't you going to eat, too?" V asked suddenly.

"I already had breakfast before I got here," you assured, turning to see that Nero had nearly devoured his omelet, already over halfway finished with his meal.

You were suddenly glad you had made his out of two eggs instead of just one.

V stared at you for a long moment as if contemplating something, but eventually tucked back into his food with a little smile. You paused to refill their cups with juice and handed over napkins for messy mouths, moving back to finish off the previous night's dishes and beginning on the ones you had just sullied..

When you turned back to see if V had finally finished so that you could gather their plates, you were met with Nero eating half an omelet, and V missing his plate.

"Whoa, hey!" you startled, catching the boys' abrupt attention. "Nero, isn't that V's?"

Nero's baby blues narrowed immediately in a defensive way, but V was quick to cut in.

"I was finished! I got full," he said, though you were momentarily doubtful.

"You sure? You didn't eat very much," you gently questioned.

"I don't really eat like Nero does," he supplied with a little smile. "Uncle Dante says he's got lots of energy that needs lots of fuel, but I don't have that."

"And that's okay," Nero defended rather vehemently, "because you can still do lots of things, and I can help finish them. Like breakfast. And races in the park."

"Alright, alright, I understand," you appeased, though it was something that was still cause for some concern. "I'm not angry. I'm still learning how you guys do things, so be patient with me, and I'll keep a willing and open mind, okay? If there's something I need to know, don't hesitate to tell me."

V nodded as Nero gave a somewhat affirmative hum, though he still seemed a bit defensive, perhaps still thinking he was getting in trouble. Whatever the case, you cleared the table once he finished off the rest of V's omelet, leaving behind their juice cups, and made back to the soapy water.

"Why don't you two go get dressed for the day, and we can do V's morning stretches before finding something fun to play. Sound good?"

Both V and Nero seemed on board with the plan, both scooting out of their seats with more vigor than they came into the kitchen with, finally up and at 'em and ready for the day.

Something told you that you had your work cut out for you.

[imaginesmylife]

Could I ask what it would be like to be best friends with the dragon slayers?

imagine-fairytail-dorks answered: Natsu: I mean what do i even say here… if you watch fairy tail and his interactions with Lucy…yeah. expect him to invade your house / dorm constantly and he totally peeks inside your furniture’s drawers- ‘ I must unveil the deep dark secrets of ___’s room! ‘ dragging you off to missions out of nowhere like you could be going shopping or taking a bath, it doesn’t matter to him if it’s day or night, you’re COMING. totally draws on your face while you sleep (again this is cannon) - do not play monopoly with HIM. I REPEAT DO NOT. THERE WILL BE PIECES MISSING AND DISAPPEARING EVERYTIME likes to steal food from your fridge a lot “ NATSU, YOU HAVE YOUR OWN FOOD! “ “ but yours is better. “ you feeling down? he will not promise to listen to a long hour rant, unless its really tragical, but he will probably open his arms like ‘ ya wanna hug ? ‘ makes silly hairdos to your hair on purpose and laughs it off.

Gajeel: sleepovers in which he will probably help you so much with the meals, like # secret master chef gajeel at your service steals food from your plate when you’re not watching and thinks he’s fooling you but really he isn’t. Okay but he’s that guy who if you need help on really weird occasions he won’t mind helping you out: “ Gajeel, i forgot my towel can you hand it over? “ “ Gajeel, you mind going downstairs to get me some pads / tampons? I just noticed i ran out of them…. “ “ Gajeel, we’re out of pasta, please make a quick run to the mini! “ the old ladies are chuckling at him and it pisses him off a bit but he feels …manly? to be able to help you? like so blessed so moved # this is what a man is! - quoting elfman. poking you randomly while you’re watching tv or reading books, specially if he’s bored like “ gajeel …” “ shh, weren’t you watching it?” he’s really clueless on how to comfort others in times of need, so all he’s going to do is listen to your problems without saying a word if he can’t find a way to better them, and /or open his arms weirdly for you to receive the hugging . him being salty about others with you like “ uhhh i can’t tolerate that fake arse. “ “ me too , mate. wish they’d just get a vase thrown at their heads. “ #saltmates fist bump

Wendy: Tea sessions with her and Charle reading club time!!!!! doing intricate hairdos to each other and SLEEPOVERS !!!!! 1! !!! 1 !! ranting about your life  … specially boys if you want wendy to turn red like a tomato “ Wendy, stop being so flustered over this! “ “ I can’t help it, Charle… “ light sparring sessions if you wanted to, specially since she needs to be on pair with her dragon slayer friends cooking sessions shopping downtown on fridays. telling each other bedtime stories to sleep one of the best at comforting people, will do anything to help you, and feel bad if they can’t. cuddling sessions and sad disney movies are a must.

Laxus: Beware the raijinshuu will probably be after you too. either jelly or anxious lots and lots of indirect jokes, innuendos or puns like “ ya know what’s up right in the morning? “ “ hOE DON’T DO IT.” He actually gives pretty good input on stuff - he could go with you to stores and be like: “ no that pattern doesn’t suit your figure that well, you have wide hips so it will only make you looked even larger than usual. “ “ look i don’t want to influence you but… this earphones brand is better, it’s durable, the sound is great, and it can allow you so many more functions blahblahblah… “ Not even the raijinshuu know about this side of him but he must always pet the wandering animals in the streets and feed them if he can like AWWWWWW ANIMALS !!!! 111 !!! 1 !!1! Shares food with you no problems. he’s just chill countering your sarcasm with his sarcasm and vice-versa “ Do i seem amused to you? “ “ hmmmm in a scale of  1 to 10? “ “ hahahaha. very funny. “ “ you’re welcome. “ B) surprisingly affectonate when others are out of it - his hugs might crush you a bit tho but he does not mean it - can’t measure his strength tbh “ Laxus…. you’re .crushing me.. can’t breathe, and my boobs – “ “ OH SORRY. “

Sting: Walking in unnanounced on accident sometimes inside your room and being like ‘ OH SHIT SORRY! but nice ass by the way. “  cue a finger gunning at you while he walks out and tries to play it cool but you’re throwing objects at him randomly “ STING, YOU IDIOT! “ “ i guess you can say he STINGS. “ - Rufus “…Frosch thinks so too! “ ba-dum-tss. Watching a movie in a mess of limbs and legs while you share blankets and fighting over the last popcorn / chips /cookies like “ STING, NO THAT ONE’S MINE! “ “ FIRST COME FIRST SERVE ~. “ an d he just casually grabs it and yep they’re gone. he’s faster than you anyways # gdit sting “ unless you wanna take it out of my mouth now? “ “ eww no, keep it. “ # not sure if win or hurt - Sting you must have at least a sleepover once a week or month. he will probably be really deep questioning things in life before you go to bed # phylosophical sting hour ‘ why is the color blue called like that? why is the sky full of stars (coldplay reference badumtss) ? why couldn’t it be full of cheetos? i mean, why are they even like that? starts don’t look like what we draw even it’s jsut a whole mass of galaxy inside another massive rock thing, but from here it seems so small,… i feel like an ant. “ “ how much deep do you think the ocean is? “ # help him. Sting would be that guy that if he were best friends, specially with a girl, would probably go like: ‘ please unveil the darkest secrets of your gender to me, because seriously i don’t get most of you, i’m confused af. ‘ with such a very serious face you end up laughing. “ I’m not joking, ___ . “ staring contests in which he always loses because he starts snorting at something anytime: “ what is it this time, Sting. “ “ your clock…pfft, it’s making  a very..pffft– weird figure in the wall ! “ if you feeling down he’s all up for cuddling session. of course,he will try to the best of his ability to help you with your problems but he prefers to firstly focus on you and spoil you.

Rogue: more mature than Sting but still a bit salty also good at giving remarks like Laxus be it at shopping or life decisions, but sometimes he comes out too strong.. “ Huh, okay Rogue.. Okay. “ “ JUST DO IT, ____. Really– “ he secretly collects candy every time he can, he has a hidden stash of candy in his bedroom- sting once found it and almost died. # do not unleash the kraken probably offers himself as poison taster to each of your recipes and vice versa “ HMm it’s good but what if we added—” “ Rogue, no the last time we improvised it ended as a disaster. “ searching for warmth, he will accidentally inch towards you like in a chase if you’re sleeping over at his room; kick him away or you’ll end up on the floor. (!!!) (THIS IS BASED on a true story) he is a roomcon lover don’t even tell it to the guildmates. he would never hear the end of it. “ NO, JACK! JAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!!!! “ good at consoling people but slightly awkward since he’s unused to it - he’ll pat you your back weirdly #save him.

Erik / Cobra he’s that guy who’s making snarky remarks at everything and anything around him # so salty will turn to you in a joke and be very inoportune and nosy like: “ so what pattern is it today? hello kitty? bows? hearts? stripes? or is it plain?” ERIK NO. he’s very protective of you though like no kid – if you ever trade him for someone lese, like let’s say you were supposed to have lunch with him at the tuesdays and you went off somewhere instead and cancelled it. he’s hurt and ONTO YOU . no escape. throws food at you while you’re distracted - be it a popcorn , a candy, a chip…. but he pretends he’s innocent likes to invade your room once in a while but is at least more respectful than the other dragon slayers…. sometimes he’s deep af though like he might just vent about life indirectly: “ if you could what would you’ve changed about your life , ____ ? “ protect him gives really nice hugs to be honest will beat the crap out of anyone who makes you sad tbh.

Source:  imagine-fairytail-dorks

[awfully-sadistic]

Headcanons for Aiden.

I guess I needed to try to write something today. It’s just so easy not to especially since I didn’t get enough sleep. But I think I might be able to pull off a small headcanon post.

Dot’s pregnancy with Aiden will consist of:

Being more excited than Bennett at the announcement of her pregnancy. It totally takes him by surprise, too, considering Dot wanted to break the announcement on Valentine’s Day because she was sentimental like that. Therefore the holiday becomes a very special date for them. It wasn’t just Valentine’s Day to them anymore.

Cue Bennett being jealous as fuck about wanting a special day for him, Dot, and their pups too but that’ll be something worked out later because Aiden demands all of Dot’s attention now.

Aiden is very attentive, much more overprotective and prickly when it comes to anyone giving Dot any more of a passing glance. He was overprotective before considering his role as Enforcer but it’s only doubled, tripled, since Aiden had been told about Dot’s pregnancy.

That means he doesn’t take any one putting her down whatsoever and this comes as many clashes with her Dreadful Brothers. Any of them who would teasingly poke fun at her before now have to face Aiden’s wrath because he’s not letting any of that fly for as long as Dot’s pregnant.

It was never okay before but since they were siblings and it was such a natural thing to do when poking fun at fellow siblings, Aiden has always let it slide unless Dot was having a really hard time. However, this time Aiden reinforces the “No picking on Dot” rule with or without Dot’s interference or say so. He wants to make sure no amount of stress is upon her and the triplet pups he was going to have with her.

May the Lord have mercy on the fool’s soul if Dot even speaks about having a hard time with someone on any given day. Aiden is there breathing down their neck the next instant.

By his count, he still owes Cavon three days of unconsciousness for that one time he refused to give Dot a compliment or even congratulate her on the pregnancy. Things like that will set him off and the only person who can make him see any sort of reason is Dot.

It’s useless even having any of the Patriarchs convince him to let something go if Dot came to him upset. It has to come from Dot just like the grievance did.

Aiden only entrusting Garrett to take care of Dot if he had to do a club errand. Even then he gets irrationally jealous when he knows they’re spending time together. Garrett is used to it, though, and kind of finds it funny honestly.

He may give Aiden an entirely innocent update such as taking her to the ClubHaus when he knows Aiden will be bothered by the other guys crowding her.

Or even taking a selfie with her at the bar with a smug look on his face.

Then Aiden dropping whatever he was in the middle of and heading to the ClubHaus right away to make sure that Dot wasn’t being too overwhelmed by the boys who want to stake their claim on her after him.

That kind of talk doesn’t fly around Aiden, though. Everyone knows better than to claim that they have “next” around the Enforcer because he can send them flying back into next week with just a flick of his fingers.

Cue check-ups every five, ten, fifteen, twenty minutes. He���s not annoying about it, either, but genuinely worried if Dot was doing alright. Even if she wasn’t showing yet or necessarily feeling any different (and the fact she’s been pregnant before), Aiden is still worried over her well-being.

He does take comfort in knowing he’s not the only one, either. Everyone affiliated with the Family and ClubHaus have taken it upon themselves to ensure that Dot has a safe and happy pregnancy and delivery. He is appreciative of Family in this sense, able to put aside his own biting jealousies to know that what anyone ever wanted was only in Dot’s best interests. He was not going to impede that.

Aiden makes all of Dot’s meals himself, actually having done the research on pregnancies about what would be good for nutrition and even asking Helen what pups and shifters and other supernatural traits Dot exhibits take in terms of prenatal vitamins and the like. He takes all of her advice seriously and even shares it with his brothers in terms of their already born pups.

He adores being able to feed her by hand, and in turn, feels like he’s also providing for his pups, too.

Avid in making sure Dot remembers to take her pills and that she always has something to eat or drink. He feels it’s really important that she keeps up snacking and otherwise keeping herself well hydrated and full.

One of his favorite things to do is rest his head against Dot’s tummy. Despite knowing it’s too early for her to show, it’s just comforting knowing there were three little beans in there waiting to know their mommy and daddy. And he won’t break this habit, even after the pups are born. It’s just a nice reminder and Dot’s presence always had a calming effect on him. For the eldest Brother and an Enforcer, he shouldered a lot of responsibility. Dot was love and affection. Dot was patience and understanding. Dot was home.

He frequently talks to Dot and the pups about his day and then listening with the intensity of a thousand suns when Dot talks about hers. And he is always asking about her day, first. He wants to be the first and the last to know about any changes or if anyone had said anything that upset her.

Aiden is always giving Dot foot rubs, leg massages, and back rubs. He wants to make sure that every part of her is as comfortable as her state of mind he tries so hard to maintain.

He doesn’t allow her to take showers anymore. It’s always a bath and he’s always there taking one with her, shampooing her hair and then taking special care of bathing every inch of her.

He may seem overbearing from the outside but it doesn’t come off that way from the inside Dot would discover. She’s never alone but she doesn’t feel like he’s suffocating her--even though she wouldn’t have minded that. He hovers but it’s not annoying. It’s sweet, attentive, and kind... which is saying a lot for someone of Aiden’s appearance and profession.

At nights, Aiden is always the one to hold Dot. There’s no question about it, she’s pregnant with his pups and he won’t let anyone get in between that and his “turn” to take attention away from their little growing family. Therefore, he always gets to sit or lay with her first chance.

He’s taken to reading her and their pups bedtime stories even if she has already had one by another member (because even he couldn’t steal ALL of her time). But he comes in and shares his own stories because he has a lot to say in terms of his experiences and it was a great way to share with Dot what his childhood was like and the things he got up to when he was younger as well.

He was going to make sure Dot and their pups were going to know their Daddy in all aspects. He was going to be there for her and the pups unlike the father he had.

[twistedrunes]

What about headcanons of Alfie being husband and dad?

Thank you, anon for your request. It is the final instalment in the Aflie in a relationship, series of headcanons. I would love to hear what you think of what I’ve come up with. Please send through any more ideas you have. 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16878018/chapters/39641442

Warnings Nil

Husband 

He proposed when you were both in the bath together. You made him ask again when you were both clothed.

Of course, he asked your father’s permission first – not that he would have paid the least bit of mind if he had of said no.

He buys you a puppy as a wedding present. Jokes that it’s good training.

Your wedding was huge. You swear he invited everyone in London. Seating plans were particularly difficult – imagine sitting Aunt Ruth next to Aunt Hannah when they haven’t spoken for twenty years. No-one remembers why they don’t talk, but they’ve been feuding for so long it doesn’t matter. The list of perceived slights and insults is longer than your veil. Now give them both guns. Nightmare.

It was damn dusty in that hall too. Irritated his eyes it did. Just when you were walking down the aisle towards him. His heart nearly smashing through his ribs. The dust made his eyes all watery.

Calls you Mrs Solomons when you’re cross with him.

He still gets such a kick out of introducing you as his wife.

He loves the little moments in his day where he realises you are part of his life forever, waking up together, sharing the mirror to get ready, working together to make a meal, watching you read or knit in the evenings on the sofa.

Still spoils you rotten.

Foot rubs. The man is an absolute master at foot rubs. This is particularly useful when you’re pregnant.

He only wants you. So he doesn’t feel the need to go out with ‘the boys’ he’s perfectly happy at home with a nice meal and an ‘early’ night.

Helps out around the house when he can – you still got weak at the knees slight of him standing at the sink, sleeves rolled up with a tea towel over his shoulder.

Starts to think perhaps he should stop pushing his luck. Retire maybe.

Father

Alfie loves being a dad. To be fair though he was freaking terrified before it happened. 

He insisted on being in the room when his children were born. “I was there for the fun bit, so only right I should be here for you for this bit, right? I promised I’d always be there for you.”

He was overwhelmed seeing his children for the first time. May have cried a little.  

As soon as the baby is born he takes them and gives them to you. Wrapping his arm around the two of you.

Before the baby was born he didn’t think he could be more in love with you. He was wrong.

He’s fascinated with every detail of his baby – fingers, toes, etc.

Watching him trying to work the vice-like fingers of his three-month-old daughter out of his beard is hilarious. “Now, now sweetie ya don’t want to be doing that. That hurts da.”

All the children snuggle into his beard like it’s a nest.

He loves watching his children sleep.

You call each other papa bear and mumma bear. Only in the house mind. 

You often catch him chatting to the baby, telling them about something he thinks they need to know about. Like communism or migrating salmon, or the inciting events of the Napoleonic wars.  

He does a lot of heavy lifting with the children. Washing, folding, dirty nappies. He even gets up during the night “Had a lot less sleep due to dumb shit and this is the most important shit he’s ever done.”

All the kids have a dog, each

He tells the best bedtime stories. Voices, actions, you name it. It often has the opposite effect to what you were hoping for, with the kids more hyped up after story time than before.

As the children get older he does find the rules difficult to enforce.

You have to have a chat to him that rules aren’t just to be obeyed, they are there for a reason. To keep the kids safe or help them learn or make life easier. So he does need to discipline the kids.

Finally, he admits he only ever enforced rules with yelling and violence. He’s terrified of losing his temper. He would rather die than hurt one of his children. So you work on it together.

The first time you hear him ask your eldest if they thought they were making “good choices”, you have to run to the bathroom so he doesn’t hear you laugh.

He is very vigilant about keeping you all safe. He remembers the speech he gave Tommy. It was the truth.

Starts thinking that retirement is not such a bad idea. Margate maybe.

Enjoy this? Agree? Disagree? Have a head-canon you want me to do? Send me an ask

Interested in my other work? Go to my MASTERLIST

Want to be tagged? GO HERE

[flatsuke]

Are you taking requests for the 2nd Gen bidders? If so, how are they with kids? Like give them a day to baby sit a child, who would more traumatized, (lol don't take this the wrong way) The 2nd gen bidders or the kid they're babysitting? If you're not taking requests for them, would you mind doing this for the (regular) bidders?

of course i am!! i’ll always take request for the 2nd gen bidders!! thank you so much for this request :D

anyone can ask me anything about the 2nd gen bidders, and i’d be happy to answer!!

Kazuma:

Mother hen mode activated

Already planned out an itinerary for the child’s activities that day, down to meal time and bath time

“You need to be out in the sun for at least 10 minutes to get Vitamin D!”

A big worrywart that won’t let the child watch anything more than PG-13

Covers the kid’s eyes during kissing scenes

Cooks the kid’s meals himself. He makes sure they’re nutritious and delicious

If he had time, he’d childproof everything in the house

Kinda awkward when trying to play with them, but he eventually settles with playing a board game with them

Naoko:

She’s nervous af so tries to google “how to take care of kids”

Orders pizza (with no pineapples lmao) for them because she has no idea what kids like to eat

It’s super quiet and awkward for the first few hours

Naoko offers to study/help the kid with their homework

Obviously, the kid doesn’t want to do anything related to school

The kid suggests playing make-believe instead

And Naoko’s suddenly excited because it’s been a while since she played like that

She remembers how it’s like to be a kid again and she has fun for the first time in a while

Tatsuya:

The child would cower at the sight of Tatsuya’s scary face

Poor Tatsuya would be secretly crushed by that

He just wants to get along with the kid :(((

He’d try to play with them, but they’d be scared at first

Until Tatsuya offers to play horsey

The kid reluctantly agrees at first, but then they have fun using him as a horse, pulling his hair, messing around, etc.

He’s happy they're getting along, but ouch his hair :((

When Soryu gets home, Tatsuya looks tired af and wants to pass out

Setsuna:

Ohohoho kids!!!!

Setsuna’s excited because she loves kids!!

She’s practically a kid herself tbh

The kid would be so enamored and impressed with Setsuna’s magic tricks

“How did you make that entire chair disappear??” “Practice!”

Setsuna can’t cook, so she begs Kazuma to bring some food from their house lmao

She even teaches them how to play card games (and how to cheat lmao)

By the end of the day, the kid becomes a poker expert

Yuu:

The first thing he does is take them to a dog park

Because puppies are always the best!!

The kid has fun playing with the puppies, and so does Yuu (who takes selfies the whole time)

After that, they buy some ice cream at a kiosk nearby

On the way home, Yuu runs into some fans and he’s lowkey afraid they might cause some trouble, but the fans end up gushing over the kid instead

“Oooooh!! Is he your little brother?” “Oh, uh he’s my cousin, haha.”

Crisis averted

The kid didn’t even know Yuu was an idol and now they have stars in their eyes lmao

Yuu gives the kid an autograph before they leave

Ryoko:

She’s actually pretty good with kids despite not looking like it

They go to a nearby park and play all the outdoor games you can think of

Piggyback rides!!

She treats the kid to some fast food and she even gets him a happy meal with a free toy

When they get back home, the first thing to do is Nap Time

Nap Time ends up lasting till dinner though

Ryoko orders some pizza and they end up watching cartoons till Mamoru gets home

The kid doesn’t want to leave, much to Mamoru’s surprise

Junya:

He’s kinda nervous because he knows kids don’t like him

After an awkwardly quiet lunch, Junya asks the kid what they want to do

But they’re so quiet, like they haven’t really spoken a word at all

Junya is so lost

“Come on, kid. Don’t do me like this.”

He tries to get the kid to watch some cartoons so Junya can have an excuse to go away

It’s already almost time for bed, and the kid’s seen about 7 shows back-to-back

After another particularly silent dinner, Junya offers to read the kid a bedtime story

For the first time that day, the kid’s eyes light up

He lets out a sigh of relief

Ema:

Poor Ema would be so flustered at first because this kid is so energetic??

They keep running around the house chasing her cat, Sir Nathaniel

The poor cat doesn’t like getting his tail pulled

Ema wants to r e s t

She’s screaming inside because this tiny human being won’t stop bouncing off the walls

Eventually, Ema suggests they have a nice little tea party with cookies instead of wreaking havoc around the house

The kid agrees and Ema makes chamomile tea so the kid can take a nap

They eventually do and Ema is t i r e d

Hayato:

haha oh fuck

He knows he’s absolutely terrible with kids, so he’s Not Excited for this at all

He orders a fuckton of takeout food, gets a bunch of toys out and leaves the kid to their own devices while he plays video games in another room

Eventually, the kid gets bored playing on their own and wants to play with Hayato

He has no idea what to do except teach the kid his video game

It’s pretty brutal and violent, too lmao

Hayato forgets that there’s a kid around him and cusses a lot when he loses

By the time the day’s over, the kid’s almost swearing like a sailor and Hikaru’s disappointed in his son smh

[klrkwall]

Honey tastes like vinegar

— the temptations from demons have flirted with hawke for the many months he had been left in the fade. he flirted back, hoping it’d one day lead to his freedom. he’s finally free, yet is convinced he is imprisoned. the honey of his freedom tastes like bitter vinegar.

set after inquisition, garrett hawke has made it out of the fade and the demon’s temptations. he is still convinced he is imprisoned. hurt/comfort, angst, fluff. prompt sent in by my bf “don’t tempt me.” 

— ; garrett hawke is hinted to be trans in this fic with his bare chest, which he is. so if that may make you dysphoric do not read. it’s very, very vague tho.

if you like please consider giving a reblog <3 

under the ‘keep reading’ line. 

“Don’t. Tempt. Me.”

Fenris glances at Garrett with a concerned look, reaching out to grab his arm but watches as the Champion flinches away. His heart broke the first few times Garrett had flinched away, but now was used to it. “You’re one of them.” The elf inhaled slowly, doing his best to keep it quiet. He looks to the silent man who flinches from every being who touches him. “Tempt you of what?”

“I will slay you down myself, demon. You have taken everything away from me, I’ll take away the form you have of the man I love.”

Garrett Hawke. Once a man who used humor in the most inappropriate situations, sarcasm to the town’s greatest leaders who sought to tear him down and drown him in the river of blood that he had created, the one who watched his family die one by one like apples falling from a tree and molding as they were left abandoned on the ground for weeks, much like Bethany’s corpse in the deep road, Carver’s corpse after the ogre had torn him to pieces and much like Leandra’s corpse when it collapsed after the blood mage who reshaped her had been defeated. He was a man with no patience, but was nothing but patient after Fenris had left him after memories stabbing him in the back on their first night together, when Merrill needed assistance with the demon she had been with for years, when Isabela needed assistance with her theft of the Qunari relic, when Anders had blown the chantry up. He was an angel with blood on his clothes. He was sent from above, perhaps not the maker, but somebody else.

Fenris did not flinch at the words. Garrett held an icy glare while Fenris held a soft gaze, the intense staring interrupted by Garrett’s grumbling stomach. “The sounds your stomach make – annoy me. Come, let us find you something to eat.”

“Truly you couldn’t kiss me first? If you are a demon pretending to be Fenris, you could be kind like last time. Feed me a feast, take a warm bath then we make some pretty damn good love all night long.” Garrett complains, looking away from Fenris and towards the door. “Nope. I’m not some demon looking to kiss your feet or coddle you. You’re Hawke. Garrett Hawke, a strong man who is more then capable of fetching himself his desires.”

Garrett scoffs then laughs. “How do I fetch my desire to get you out of my face? You’re a demon who lives for no other purpose then to taunt me. Taunt, taunt, taunt. Fuck off.”

  The bowl is half empty when he is finished with it. Fenris is pleased but doesn’t let it show. “I suppose that is good enough. You actually are eating.” Garrett groans. “Okay mother. Yeah – If I ate anymore of that piss tasting stuff I’d probably be dead for real. No more of this fade crap-“ He pauses for a moment, coming to a sudden realization as he reaches for the bowl. “Actually, hand me that bowl. Maybe the rest of it will finish me off.”

Fenris rolls his eyes and yanks the bowl away, clearly unimpressed and begins to finish off the rest of the bowl. “I believe my food preparing and making skills are quite decent, excuse you.”

“I prefer the ravishing feast that left me full for days and mouth watering for the next meal course.” Fenris arches his eyebrow, not convinced as he finishes off the bowl of food and leaves Hawke to walk over to the door. “Go to bed, no bedtime story tonight.” The elf teased as he walks out the door, shutting it to allow Hawke some privacy.

Garrett sighs, he turns his attention to a mirror in the room and notices his worsened condition. His eyes that carried bags now were over cumbered with them, strands of his raven hair were falling out, his skin was littered with more scars and a lighter pale then before. His body dropped weight – noticeably.

Confusion was a word that summed up thousands of emotions that Garrett had felt. In other confrontations with demons who posed as his family, friends – Fenris. He was healthier, booming with laughter, body surrounded with hot water, stomach full of the best food in all of Thedas. He was healthy – nobody needed his help anymore, he could focus on himself.

Instead, he was no longer the strong champion, only the weak walking corpse of what the bold spirit left behind. In his mind, he was the next apple to fall from the tree of the Hawke family and left to rot on the ground for weeks, months, years to come.

He scoffs. “Psh, looks like the fucking demons are getting more aggressive with their realities.” He runs a hand through his hair, ignoring the worry that zapped his body and overflowed his body.. “Couldn’t even make me look attractive. “ He undoes his casual clothes, sliding them off and slides on comfortable trousers. Garrett climbs into the small bed, covering his body with a blanket as if it was a shield from the demons that looked to haunt him and tear his mind open mentally so it’d mess with him physically.

  “How’s the bastard?” Varric slides over a tankard of some wine for Fenris who accepts it and gulps down a sip immediately. He brings his shoulders up then down quickly, a shrug. “As best as could be, suppose. He has moved on from the mad suicidal phase. We went on a walk a few days ago – to get out of the room, and he nearly jumped off the bridge. He truly thinks I’m a demon who seeks to harm him.”

The dwarf winces, noting the amount of stress Fenris must be under. “So, Broody, you got a plan to break Hawke out of this demonic spell?”

“At the moment, I’m not coddling him like the demons have. The demons that have took my body as a form to fool with Garrett have given him nothing but love, amazing feasts, warm baths, treating him like a king.” Another pause, to sip the wine that tingled his throat. “I’m simply treating him how Kirkwall treated him. No special treatments, just the bare minimum to keep him alive.”

“Ah yeah, that’ll show him you aren’t some demon and you’re actually his husband.”

A flush rises to Fenris’s cheeks, chuckling softly as he sips his wine. “I… am not his husband, we have spoken of exchanging such titles.”

“Is that a title you want some day?” The dwarf asks, he is taking mental notes of Fenris’s demeaner. He can read anyone as if they were one of his novels, he knows Fenris is flustered and a secret hope lingers within him. “Someday, I’d like to be his husband yes. It’s a future I hope he and I have together.”

“Trust me, Broody. Hawke is absolutely whipped for you. You’ll be his husband one day, and your wedding will be held in Hightown, I’ll have the whole town bowing at your guys’s feets and kissing the ground you walk on.” He continues his fantasy and it would be a lie if Fenris was listening with hope. He would like to wed Garrett one day, he and Hawke rarely ever speak about it. Yet it was a fantasy both dreamt of.

  Morning creeps quickly and this time, there is so sunshine pouring through the windows like the other fantasies Garrett has lived through. Outside, it is storming and rain drips off the window. Fed up with being inside for the past month, he slides light armor on, getting used to the multiple buckles and grabbed two of his silver knives that had been used to create puddles of blood over his ten years in Kirkwall and he heads to the training part of Skyhold.

 Fenris sits on the grass with a book in his hand, the words just slipping through his eyes and out his brain. The words are scrambled, he does not pay attention to them. Instead, he pays close attention to Garrett who wears a piece of what Fenris predicts to be curtain over his eyes to shield them from seeing his target.

His target – a stuffed tummy, Garrett is practicing throwing knives. Fenris watches as one strikes through the dummy, stuffing peeking through the new rip.

The former Champion lifts his blindfold, glancing at the knives he threw. One sits near between the eyes, surely to take out an enemy no matter how powerful. The other, just above the crotch. He snickers, then bursts into a fit of giggles. How childish. Fenris thinks but a smile creeps upon his face, letting the song of his love’s laugh play on repeat in record of his mind.

“Hey, Fen.” Fenris’s white eyebrows shoot up, he does not look at the words on paper anymore and instead up at Hawke. A sudden urge to cry reaches his desires, words scramble at his throat and his mind is halting them, won’t let them drip out like they need to. That was the first time in – months, that Garrett had spoken any part of Fenris’s name.

Fenris attempts to act in a casual manner, glancing up from his book. “Can I assist you, Hawke?”

“C’mon, try to be a nice demon and be somewhat affectionate you brood.” He sits next to Fenris, even though they are close there is still a large amount of distance between the two. Yet, Fenris could not help but feel that the road is smaller now. The simple action of saying his name was enough to bring them closer. “I have told you, I am not a demon. I am offended, why should I act affectionate if you believe I, your love, am a demon?”

Garrett groans, clearly frustrated as he rolls his eyes. “I dunno, cause you’re some temptation demon?” He shrugs.  “More like a bitchy demon right now.”

“I do not think that is such a demon.”

“Could you induldge me a little bit, please?” His soft plea is almost enough to tug at Fenris’s heart. He should not give in, yet he does a little bit and presses a soft kiss to the top of Garrett’s greasy hair. “There. Now, go continue your training and leave me to read.” Garrett lays his head over Fenris’s thighs, the rain pouring on the parts of them that are not covered by the sheltering roof that is keeping Fenris’s book from becoming soaked. Fenris goes to move his legs in shock, but Garrett hands onto them as if it is dear life.

“Just… Just let me for a moment, please.” He begs, his voice goes softer.

Fenris lets him.

They sit like that for a few moments. Garrett presses a soft, shaking kiss to Fenris’s clothed thigh and tears threaten to spill from his eyes. And they do. They fall onto his love’s trousers and he whispers.

“How I wish you were real. How I wish this were real. How I wish, but – “ He laughs. “- This universe takes everything from me. I should’ve known Corphyeus and his fucking minions would take you away too.” Garrett is fuming, his hand clenches into a fist and is near ready to punch something but he stays. “Nothing ever stays.”

Fenris does not respond. Garrett’s words are replaced with the sounds of the rain. What Garrett did not know, was the demons were replaced with Fenris.

  “Would you mind telling me how you choose to leave Hawke behind in the fade?” Fenris demands an answer. The Inquisitor – the one who stands in front of him with his back turned to the former slave, has the answer that Fenris wants. He turns around, Fenris recognizes the face. The most memorable thing about it, the scar that traveled over his eyebrow and over his eye.

“Fenris.” Elora greeted. His old friend, stands there with anything but a welcoming look. The one who was responsible for Garrett’s fucked up mindset. “Hawke… It was between him or Alistair. Alistair represented a whole organization –“

“A whole organization gone mad! One who serves this lord that is Corphyeus! They were foolish enough to give in- “ Elora interrupts him. His look is the look of somebody who took a bite of a sour edible. “An organization that needed to be rebuilt. Would you like to be wiped out come the next blight?” Silence.  “Hawke gave himself up, sacrificed himself. He knew the risks, I allowed him to run in. It was a sudden decision left up to me!”

“He is damaged. The demons have taunted and twisted him inside and out.” “Fenris. You and I both know Hawke is not broken, he is bent.”

 Fenris knew that. He understood that Hawke is not damaged, he knew that if Hawke would not return from the fade like he had been blessed with – he would be okay one day, he knew that losing Hawke was definitely a nightmare that could become a reality.

“You – You are right. I apologize, Elora.” The inquisitor chuckles. “A sour reunion. Not the one I was dreaming of.” Fenris shakes his head. “I regret my words, I apologize. Let’s have a drink later, friend.”

  Fenris returns to Garrett over Varric with one of his sharpest knives. Sweat drips down his forehead, a bunch of Varric’s shirt is bunched in Garrett’s tight gripped fist. “YOU! Continue to taunt me! By possessing the form of my best friend! No longer you damn demon.” Garrett laughs in a nervous manner, Varric has his hands up as the fool continues to negotiate his life.

“Hawke, Garrett, it’s me! Your best friend! I’m not some fuckin’ demon!”

Garrett laughs once more. “You believe I’m going to fall for those foolish words once more?”

Within a second, Garrett is restrained and is pushed against a table. Varric takes a few quick breaths and stands back up from leaning against the table, he looks at Fenris who is pinning Garrett down. His knife is still being tightly gripped in his hand.

“Garrett…” Fenris’s tone is a warning shot. He does not need to speak the words for Garrett to understand what he wants. “This is the only thing I have any possible hope of protecting me, you fools!” His words are a roar, he is trying desperately to be the predator but he is the prey. He is the prey of many, he is convinced that Fenris and Varric are now the predators waiting to rip him open once more.

“Drop the knife.” Fenris commands gently. Garrett rolls his eyes and shakes his head the best he could. “Hell with you, demon.” He growls.

Varric goes to rip the knife from Garrett’s closed fist. Fenris shoots him a glare and shakes his head. The dwarf looks at him as if he’s mad, yet backs up anyway and obeys Fenris’s instruction.

“Fine, Garrett. You keep the knife, or you drop it.” Fenris steps away from Garrett and stands there, with a calm posture and emotionless look painted on his face. His arms cross. “You going to stab your best friend? Do it. If you’re convinced the demon will leap out of him and you are sitting in some fade puddle, awaiting for possession, or another demon to screw with you.”

A realization hits Garrett. Yet, so does confusion.

He turns his back to both his best friend and love, he shakes his head in frustration. “You… the other demons – the dreams, the realities, maker… - They all did what I wanted. I had control.”

“Reality does not give you complete control, Hawke.” Varric announces with a gentle tone. Fenris steps forward and gazes at Hawke, holding his hand out. “You have complete control over this, Hawke. Hand me the knife or don’t.” He pauses, letting it sink in. “You have control.”

There is then silence. Garrett glances down at the knife, then to Varric and finally settles a gaze on Fenris. “I have control…” He mutters, tucking his knife in his sleeve. “I’m keeping it.” He announces, Fenris nods.

“I don’t expect a dagger in the throat by the time I wake up.” Varric hopes as he walks off, leaving the two to be alone.

 I have control. Garrett realizes.

 A week later, it is still pouring in Skyhold. Garrett and Fenris decide to sit outside, identical to the one day last week when Garrett was venting at the dumbies with his knife tossing.

Garrett’s trust in Fenris built up slowly each day, separation made them stronger. Each time Garrett realized he had control over whatever he wanted to do and the demons simply would not coddle him, and knew that others would not submit to him slowly convinced him that perhaps, this was a reality. Or a very, very cruel nightmare.

Garrett finishes stabbing the dumbies, practicing knife throwing and slides his protector into his pocket and searches for Fenris with his eyes. He finds he is near the garden where the witch – Morrigan would stand with her son, Kieran. Garrett walks over to him, knows he can turn away anytime.

He knows he has control over himself, and others have control over themselves.

He chooses to walk, eventually walking turned to running and he ran up behind Fenris and hugged him from behind in a tight hug. One of his arm goes across Fenris’s torso, identical to one of his buckles and one slant of an X. The other, forms the other slant of the X.

Tears begin to stream down his face again, overwhelmed with the amount of love he has for Fenris and the amount of fear that this wasn’t his love. That this wasn’t the real Fenris.

Fenris is shock by the sudden impact and lets it show, so Fenris can let Garrett know this is reality and he felt other emotions then simply wanting to make everything perfect for Hawke. To let the ground be clean of the blood he spilt of his enemies. He slowly slides his hand over one of Garrett’s, allowing him to speak first.

“Please –“ He begs. “Show me… Show me you are Fenris, show me you’re the man I love – Maker’s breath, please, Fenris. If you are there, show me you’re you. Show me you’re Fenris.” He begs. The begs tug at Fenris’s heartstrings as if they are the puppet. Yet, Garrett was the puppet for the puppeteer’s – the demons – amusement for months. The elf nods and slowly slides his free hand into his pocket and slides out the red scarf that had been worn on Fenris’s wrist for several years since the first night they had slept together.

Before Garrett could object, Fenris begins to tell the story that only he would know.

Fenris is spooned in Garrett’s arms, his back against the chest of the man he had been in love with for some time. Garrett sits up a few minutes later and gets up from the bed, Fenris watches him with curiosity as he watches Garrett make his way across the room, suddenly uncomfortable from the lack of chest to lay against.

Garrett scrambles through a small box, clearly full of meaningful possessions. Two minutes later as Fenris is about to call out for him, Garrett pulls out two things and quickly walks over to Fenris, sitting on his side of the bed and slides the possessions over to Fenris. He gazes down in curiosity, holding one of them.

One was a crescent. Of the Amell symbol, and the other a red scarf.

“Hawke…?”

Garrett coughed nervously. “Its uh – I know I’m not the gift master but uh,” His words were scrambled. Fenris smiled slightly and softly chuckled. “You for once are at a loss of words, a rare sight indeed.” He softly teased. Garrett shot him a playful glare.

“I just…” He silently asks for permission to take Fenris’s wrist, which is granted and he ties the red scarf around it. “I… don’t have anything other, better – really. So, I guess this is to show that I’m serious about you. About… us.” He confessed.

 Even when Fenris left two hours later, Garrett did not regret giving him the crescent or the scarf that was tied with the promise of Garrett loving Fenris. He sat there, hoping Fenris would realize he was serious and would wait for him. No matter what.

 “Only… Only you would know that. Only Fenris would know that.” Fenris nods, understanding the sudden realization of his love and how confusing it must be. “I am Fenris, last time I checked.” Garrett hugs Fenris tighter, tighter then he had in a very long time. He shudders, tears spill in Fenris’s white locks as Garrett buries his face in it.

“You – You’re Fenris.” He spins his love around and strokes his cheek, rushing to kiss Fenris’s cheek and he does. He then kisses his forehead. His other cheek. His nose. Fenris chuckles, eyes closing as Garrett presses soft kisses upon the thin skin of his eyelids. Then, what he had been waiting for several months for, he feels Garrett’s lips press against his.

They kiss like that for a long while, taking short breaks to catch their fast pacing breaths.

“Maker – Maker, Fenris I am so sorry.” Garrett allows his words to scramble and flow out messily, knowing he could not plan them and let them come out in good form. Fenris brings his hand to Garrett’s cheek and softly strokes it. The touch is painful for both, it is a touch they have both ached to have for several months. A simple touch they fear would not happen again.

“It is understandable, Garrett.”

“I suppose I should go apologize to Varric.” Fenris grins. “You did nearly stab the man to death, convinced he was a demon.”

“Wouldn’t shock me. With the filth he writes.”

    It’s later that evening, they are in their personal quarters and Fenris climbs into the cold bed with Garrett who is waiting with open arms. Fenris lays on his bare chest. Garrett laughs. “You enjoying my manly pillows?” Referring to his open chest.

Fenris rolls his eyes, softly laughing. “Absolutely.”

This was simple. It was a simple evening for any other couple in Thedas, but this was the long awaited reunion Garrett and Fenris had prayed to the Maker and or any other creator out there. Garrett fell asleep soon after and Fenris admired his beloved’s slightly relaxed face. His body wasn’t completely free of the tension, but some was released.

The warrior presses a gentle kiss to Garrett’s shoulder, allowing his lips to linger on the skin of the man he loved dearly before pressing another one out of pure indulgence. He lays his head over Garrett’s chest once more, listening to the heart beating.

“One day soon, perhaps I will ask you to be my husband. I do not think we will get a better time then this.” He begins to ramble softly, aware that there is the small possibility the sleeping Champion could hear him. “But for now – you are my love, bounded to me.” He looks up, pressing a kiss to Garrett’s chest.

“Thank you for trusting in me, Garrett.” He could feel tears poke at his eyes. “Welcome home, welcome back, we missed you.”

Soft whimpers leave Fenris as he tries not to shudder, not allow his sobs of happiness and relief to wake Hawke out of his well-deserved slumber. “I – I have missed you.”

Garrett hears every word.

[the-cryptographer]

I must ask you about JouKai for the meme, predictably. Nice questions, btw!!

Don’t worry! It’s predictable in a good kind of way :D

And thank you! I’m glad you liked the questions! I feel like you can determine my terrible taste in fic by reading these questions~

Rest under the cut:

What they watch during movie dates and what kind of snacks they get from concessions.

Hehe. I think we talked about them watching horrible realityTV and avant garde films that neither of them can stand. But, for the movies,they probably watch really lame live action kids movies with monsters andDRAGONS. Jounouchi also likes genre pieces, like samurai and yakuza flicks.Anyhow, yeah, Jounouchi buys popcorn and sour gumdrops from concessions withthe intent of feeding Kaiba in small increments through the movie, but he getstoo into watching the screen and eats it all himself.

Which one gets in to a fight with the other’s parents.

You’d think it’d be Kaiba given his own parents are too DEADfor Jounouchi to fight with. But, yeah, I can’t really see Kaiba doing it. Hemanages some passive aggressive snark when Shizuka forces Jounouchi and himinto the presence of Jou’s mom, but he’s trying to be nice and also not tryingto pick fights with nobodies, so hekeeps himself contained for the most part. He also tries to be passiveaggressively snarky with Jou’s dad, but Jou’s ready to kick anyone who is meanto his dad straight out the door, so Kaiba also contains himself there too.Anyhow, it’d totally be Jounouchi if Kaiba’s parents or Gouzaburou were stillalive. Jounouchi might be intimidated by Gouzaburou at first, but eventuallyGouzaburou would cross some line in Jounouchi’s presence and from then onJounouchi would be ready to fight him ALL THE TIME, 24/7, NO BREAKS. Ugly, uglystuff :v

What kind of street performance they’d put on to raise money if they were stranded somewhere.

Despite being a comedy routine in motion, I kind of doubtthey’d jump to that immediately. At first Jounouchi’s like – let’s put on aduel as a performance. And then Kaiba’s like – no – and walks off. Jounouchistarts out juggling, and singing/busking, and trying to do a kind of one manstand-up comedy show, and it’s just not working, and so over time it startsdevolving and he starts pleading with every nice looking nee-san and jii-chan thatpasses by – lend me some cash pls pls. And then Kaiba returns because in themeantime he’s hijacked somebody’s street cart and pounded its business intoshape and aggressively sold a bunch of extra units. It’s probably good Kaiba gotback when he did, because Jounouchi’s next method of recourse is probablymugging people…

How they’d be as parents if they had-a-kid/someone-forced-a-kid-on-them.

Jounouchi’s all into being nurturing in my head. So he’s cookingmeals, and blowing bubbles in the bath, and listening to the kid’s problems,and also he functions as a human jungle gym some of the time. Totally fussy, soccermom, and also goofy dad jokes. Also definitely the parent to go to if you’relooking for sympathy and support, and to get away with shit. Omg, he’s theworst at discipline.Yeah, so Kaiba gets to play bad cop a lot. Jounouchi would probably also stickhim with icky jobs like diaper duty a disproportionate amount of time. ButKaiba also maybe does stuff like tell bedtime stories – quiet things. Comparedto Jounouchi – he’s hard to draw approval and affection out of, so the momentswhen he shows these things become very !!! You’d want to make him proud and tonot disappoint him.Also, you totally wouldn’t realise as a kid, but as you’d get older you’drealise that Jou and Kaiba were totally playing you. Like, they were working insynch this whole time and providing really complementary things as parents, andyou’d suddenly be blown away by how much the things you appreciated or blamedone for and not the other were really a joint effort all along, and you wereTRICKED! Haha, I think they’d be good parents x’)

Who would cause the most trouble during a camping trip and how.

Kaiba would be such a bump on a log during a camping trip. Ifeel like he wouldn’t be into it AT ALL. How dare you drag him away from workfor this bullshit.

“C’mon, Kaiba, if you don’t help get this fire started, we can’t eat.”“Wecan just not eat then.”

So, since Kaiba’s not willing to do anything on this camping trip, he doesn’tactually cause any trouble. But, by the same token, Jounouchi’s definitely theone that solves all the trouble he creates by himself. Jounouchi gets themlost, and Jounouchi manages to get them unlost. Jounouchi breaks the frame forthe tent and then repairs it using twigs and woven grass. Jounouchi doesn’t sealup the food properly and wild animals get into it, and Jounouchi has to chaseoff the bears and monkeys and everything by himself and then make entire mealsfrom the one can of beans that’s left over and whatever he forages. Jounouchi’sa resourceful idiot, so somehow they make it out okay.

What they would give each other as both a serious gift and a troll gift.

I don’t feel like they’re a gift-y kind of couple because Jounouchihas no money and Kaiba doesn’t need anything and also Kaiba actually beingsentimental enough to give out presents(??)Serious gifts from Kaiba are probably like ‘my undivided attention forhalf-an-hour’ and ‘I paid for this apartment, and also your health and life insurance’and ‘I am touching your shoulder and attempting to be emotionally supportive. Doyou see how hard this is for me?’ They are spontaneous and touching gifts… Exceptfor the insurance bills; he pays those every month. Troll gifts from him… I’mnot sure Kaiba knows how to troll Jou without being rude and cruel. It isunknown~Serious gifts from Jou are probably in the realm of 500 sandwiches deliveredover the course of a year, or I brought you chocolate for Valentines and friedchicken for Christmas. Troll gifts are probably honestly the kind of thingKaiba gets for his birthday. Jou buys him things like KaibaLand souvenir cups, orridiculous neon glow-in-the-dark-sex toys he doesn’t even think Kaiba wouldlike, or little blue dragon hair clippies for little girls.

Who moves in with them as an unfortunate third wheel roommate.

I’m pretty sure Kaiba is the unfortunate third wheel roommatein most of my headcanons considering both ettuship and battleship. But- okay,let me do this for real.Although I’m sure Kaiba would be annoyed by anybody that moved in unexpectedlywith the possible exception of Mokuba, none of Jou’s friends are really allthat unfortunate. It’d probably be… Pegasus or Siegfried (maaaaaybe Amelda) manipulatingthe fuck out of Seto, and creating some elaborate set of fake circumstances andalso blackmail for why they can’t stay at the hotel while they’re in town, and bothSeto and Jou would very much like them to leave but- no.

How they feel about handholding and sudden kisses in the ear-cheek vicinity.

Handholding: no. not casually at least. Sudden kisses: in public– no. in private – one of the few joys in Seto’s life.

Who’s always snapping photos and who’s pack-ratting clutter.

Jounouchi’s definitely the one snapping selfies andcapturing Kaiba’s frowny face on camera during all important life junctures. Phonecamera is getting worn out.I don’t think either of them is very pack ratty. Probably Jounouchi sometimesgets into moods where they can’t throw the thing out because what if we need it later. (‘We’ll buy another one,’Kaiba says, honestly confused by the question.) But even Jounouchi’s probablyof the personal philosophy that every important thing in life can be carried ina backpack, so I think for the most part he’s not collecting clutter.

Who hogs the bathroom in the morning and who causes toothpaste related drama.

Neither one of them is hogging the bathroom. And, idk, whois the real causer of toothpaste drama – the one doing the toothpaste thing, orthe one making a big deal out of the inconsequential toothpaste thing? Well,squeezing the toothpaste from the top of the tube, leaving toothpaste on the sink,trying purposefully to be annoying and writing messages on the mirror withtoothpaste – Jounouchi does all those things. Also, in an attempt to solve the issueof squeezing Kaiba’s toothpaste tube wrong, he buys his own tube of toothpasteso they each have their own. But he buys annoying flavours like bubblegum andbanana and it kind of pisses Seto off.

What their matching costumes were for that one party.

Probably it should be Duel Monsters themed, yeah?! Lord ofDragons and Red Eyes? Kaibaman and Flame Swordsman? But imagine Jou as Marioand Seto as Luigi and Jou tried to convince Seto to go as Princess Peach butKaiba was like, ‘absolutely not’, and Jou was like ‘yeah, you’re right.Princess Peach actually has an ass’, and everything was terrible.

If I think they’d get married and why or why not.

Never say never. But, honestly, probably not? Headcanon isJounouchi thinks marriage is like, ‘I have a promise and responsibility as aman to always protect and support my spouse and our kids.’ And Kaiba thinksmarriage is like, ‘I want to bind us together for eternity.’ And I thinkneither of those is really compatible with their relationship with one another.Jou’s view is kind of condescending to begin with, but it probably even strikeshim as condescending when it comes to the absurdity of him providing (physical)protection or (fiscal) support to Kaiba. And Kaiba probably spends his timetrying to figure out not how to bind himself closer to Jou, but rather how to createspace and breathing room in their relationship in a way that isn’t cruel orharsh or pushing Jou away for good. So I don’t think either one would reallyhave an inclination to approach the topic with one another – even though I’m allfor them being together until and after they’ve become crotchety old men.Also, you know Seto went through hell and also murdered people to get thatsurname? It’s a big deal for him. He’s not letting his surname go and, also, onlyhim and Mokuba are worthy of the name Kaiba – you have to prove yourself. And, withany luck, by the time Seto and Jou are settled enough for this to ever come up,Jou will probably be sure enough in himself to go, ‘fuck you. I’ve got nothingto prove. you can have your smelly name all to yourself’. And, also, we shouldpity the poor girl or boy Mokuba decides he wants to marry, because who knowswhat hell awaits them before they are accepted™ by Mr Kaibaman.

Who has over a thousand unread emails in their inbox or five hundred icons on their computer desktop and how the other reacts to this gross mismanagement.

Kaiba. Definitely. Thousands of emails. Hundreds of desktopicons. It’s a kind of orderly disaster. Jounouchi doesn’t care. He reacts byslowly trying to shut Kaiba’s laptop, and then Kaiba tells him to knock it off.

What their hidden artistic talents are and how appreciative the other is of these talents.

Jounouchi’s handy and canonically good with model kits and stuff,but I think Kaiba’s the more classically artistic. For some reason I think he’sboth a good singer and good at drawing – although he doesn’t do more thanrandom sketches. Kaiba himself doesn’t put much time or value into either ofthese talents (except when drawing comes in handy for invention concept art andconstruction blueprints) but Jou – Jou kind of thinks it’s both super cool andsuper annoying bc, gdi, why is Kaiba good at everything?!

What they consider each other’s most attractive quality and/or their favourite thing about the other.

I think I answered this one a while back, but Kaiba’scharmed by Jou’s smile and that Jou is so unrelentingly sturdy. And Jou kind ofadmires Kaiba’s pride and persistence, and also how much he cares for Mokuba.

…

Thank you for the ask :D

[marumafan]

Hi can you give me a fix or something about what I've just read. it's Duel at Ma noon and I was like what if Yuuri really calls the whole engagement off can you give me a canon or anything ? what will happen to wolf and yuuri gaahh I don't want to think about it but lets give it a try. YuuRam FTW !! :)

Hello anon!

Duel at MA noon, what a story! Anyways I guess you’re asking for some ideas as to what would happen if Yuuri ‘officially’ broke it off, right?

SO! He said it himself… Nothing.Nothing would have changed … let’s read together.

———————

Last paragraph of MA Noon

Because the hidden camera technology known as psychic photography had evolved, the critical words that I spat at Wolf and the moment when I slammed the towel, must have surely been photographed.

In tomorrow’s newspaper, there might be a big image with the title “The engagement is off” in big letters.

We, who were prepared for it, avoided the topic until the end of the day, and without mentioning the engagement, we had dinner together, and spent the remaining free time until bedtime in a very relaxed way. Actually, it was a very nice night.

When the next day come, our positions might be different but titles don’t matter. A title is just a title. At most, it’s only a few characters that disappear and it doesn’t change the relationship that we had until yesterday.

————————–We have to remember this is a pre-Caloria story. Right after adopting Greta, and before Conrad lost his arm. And Wolf had already been spending at least 3 months in his bed, taking daily baths with him, waking up together, having meals together, etc. They had gotten close. What Yuuri said right there at the end of this story, is that if he broke it off it would have ended their engagement, not their relationship. In fact for Yuuri their relationship wouldn’t have changed. 

It only changes your title, not the relationship! So nothing would have changed.

And I like to remember that after this came the Caloria arc, and Wolfram slapped him on the cheek to ‘officially accept’ and/or get reengaged, and so even if at some point before Seisakoku Yuuri would have broken it off, we have all the canon that leads them to be back together.

I don’t think there’s any way he would break off his engagement after Seisakoku tho. Their relationship developed a lot in that arc, to the point that Yuuri already considers he’s married to Wolf by Novel 15, chapter 5:“What’s the meaning of that punch to my stomach? Divorce? Wanting to remarry?”“It’s to show my love and respect…”“Liar.”

And since he said that titles don’t matter and they don’t change a relationship, well I guess you can infer the rest on your own.

[remus-sonoflyall]

Life With The Lupins

I realise that the only stories I ever seem to tell about Dora and myself involve us being in bed, about to fall asleep. I promise that we do things other than sleep. Not necessarily interesting things, but things none the less.

Most mornings start with the alarm clock buzzing. It is an absolutely terrible noise, but little else will rouse my dear wife from her slumber. I’m not much for mornings, but somehow I’m still better than she; though it’s not so much that she’s grumpy, it’s more that she’s...a zombie. Monosyllabic grunts and dragging feet all the way to the shower. In fact, I’m not entirely sure that she doesn’t sleepwalk to the bathroom to get ready and only actually awakens under the shower head.  So, while she wakes up and finds her vocabulary, I prepare breakfast. We usually just have something simple like eggs and toast or porridge. On occasion (and fairly often on the weekends), we’ll have something more complex like sausages or waffles. Now awake and functional, Dora brings Teddy into the kitchen and wrangles him into his chair; like his mother, Ted isn’t quite cooperative first thing in the morning. In fact, convincing him to eat some breakfast is a team effort. 

After breakfast, Dora gets Teddy ready for nursery while I get myself ready for work. By the time I’m dressed and ready to go, it’s just about time for Dora to Floo away to work. This leaves me to make sure that Teddy has everything and walk him to his school. If the weather is nice enough, I walk up to Hogwarts; however, if it’s unpleasant, I dash home and Floo to my office in the castle (Minerva arranged a Floo connection for my commuting). I work until sometime between 4 and 5 in the afternoon, depending on if I have meetings with students; Dora, meanwhile, works until 5 or later if someone catches her before she gets a chance to leave. Since I tend to get home sooner, I usually pick Teddy up from nursery. I set him up with a small snack, then he goes to play while I fix something for dinner.  Dora and I both cook, but her cooking is much more of a...cooking for survival type. I mean, she can make a really good meal if she sets her mind to it, but she tends to stick to things like...pasta and potatoes. I, on the other hand, didn’t really start cooking until after I left my position at Hogwarts and started living at Grimmauld Place with Sirius. That’s not to say that I couldn’t cook at all before, but I really honed my skills there. When it was only Sirius and myself at the house, the kitchen was a good place to be if you wanted some time to yourself. Sirius certainly was no cook and tended to completely avoid the kitchen, if possible. So, if I needed to think or just enjoy some quiet, I would excuse myself to cook a meal for us. Sometimes (especially if it’s near the full moon or one of us has had an especially rough day at work), Dora will bring something home with her from one of the take-aways near the Ministry. It’s usually something like pizza or Chinese food, but she’s been known to bring home rather...odd things that she thought sounded good or that one of her coworkers told her about. When Dora gets home and after we’ve eaten, we have a bit of family time, playing with Teddy or listening to music. However, it doesn’t take long before it’s time to get the little one bathed and ready for bed. This usually means that Teddy chooses one of us to read him a story and tuck him in.  After Ted’s snug in his bed, Dora and I usually do any of the work that we need to do at home or read...or (if we’re lucky enough to not have a stack of work to do) just spend time together.

Weekends are a bit different. We wake up later (we tend to forgo the alarm clock), eat a bigger breakfast, and have a much more family-centric day. Some days are spent mostly just lazing about, reading books, playing with Teddy, and things like that. If the weather is nice, we might take our son to the park or on a walk around the school grounds.  During the summer, we like to visit the seashore. If Dora can get time away from the office, that’s where we tend to go on holiday. We both love the smell of the salt air and the sound of breaking waves to put us to sleep. Some weekends have us going over to Molly and Arthur’s or up to Andromeda’s for the afternoon or evening. Other times, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny (and sometimes even Neville) pop in for dinner and to play with Teddy.  Andromeda, Molly, and Harry like to keep Ted overnight every now and then, which gives Dora and I the chance to have a bit of a date night. Sometimes we take advantage of that to go out somewhere nice, other times we just enjoy an evening at home without having to convince a fussy three-year-old that he really should eat his carrots.

So, you see, there’s much more going on in the Lupin household than just Dora and my bedtime conversations. I really should write about the other things from time to time.

[archive-of-fics]

child!reader - Uta

"Daddy?" "Hm?" You watched him working, curiousity shining in your eyes. There was something so fascinating about the way your father worked. He would hunch over in his stool, stooping over his desk that was littered with carving tools and squares of leather and sketch sheets. There was a cup on the table, painted with "#1 Dad" and decorated with (f/c) (favourite animals). It was last years Father's Day gift, which you'd given him so he could hold his pencils in. But he had so many that they spilled out of their holder and across the table top. "Why are you so pretty?" Uta blinked owlishly at you, face impassive. But his black sclera and red irises shimmered with something soft and loving. "It's because you're so pretty. Only a worthy father could create something as wonderful as you," he hummed, voice gentle and calm like it always was. No matter how bold you were, annoying his customers or rooting through his things and finding that clown mask he kept hidden (which he made you swear to keep secret), he had never, ever, not even once risen his voice at you. He was as calm as a Summer's breeze. You giggled, swinging your legs happily. Perched up on a table near his work desk, you used it almost as a throne as you sat atop it and observed the customers milling in and out or watching your father work. Other children, passing by outside, were going to spend the day at school but you spent yours with your Dad. Uta had bought you your own sketch book to occupy your mind. It was plain and black on the outer cover but on the first page, you'd written your name (with Kaneki's help because reading and writing wasn't your strong point) in fancy letters then drawn your favourite foods and characters from the colourful programme's you watched. Maybe you couldn't understand much academic stuff, like letters and numbers, but drawing was certainly your strong point. It came easy to you and you used it to express the things you couldn't spell. "Was my Mom pretty?" you wondered. "She was the most beautiful ghoul ever," Uta said, hand pausing as it sketched the general shape of a persons face. "Or, at least, I thought so. Everyone else found her scary because she had many piercings and tattoos like me but she was very peaceful and generous, which is what made her so beautiful to me. She used to give free food to any homeless ghouls around, pretending it was beef to the humans in the neighbourhood." "Humans are silly," you said, nose crinkling. "They eat yucky stuff instead of nice things like us ghouls do." "Their strangeness is what fascinates me," Uta confessed. "It fascinated your mother too. She worked at a bookstore nearby and befriended a human there. They were such good friends that she even met you once or twice when they walked around the park in the evenings. The human eventually found out that your mothers food for the homeless was actually human flesh for ghouls and she reported her to the doves. It was them who killed her, back when you were very, very small." He'd never told you that before. Or much about your mother, at all. And you'd never thought much about her so didn't ask any questions. Mostly because you never longed for her. With Yoshimura and the ghouls at Anteiku and your Dad around, you never felt lonely. You never once craved for a female presence, what with Touka tugging a brush through your hair and painfully forcing out all the knots in your hair and Irimi carefully scrubbing your hair in the bath to keep the suds out of your eyes. Then there was Hinami, your best friend who was only a little older than you. And when Kaneki came along, he would read to you and Hinami and you'd gotten good enough at writing and reading that you could now even spell your own name; which you'd proudly scrawled in your sketchbook. It was weird to hear about your mother. "Do you miss her?" you asked. Uta set down his sketchbook, pushing it aside and making his way over to you. After picking you up, he set you on his hip and rested his chin atop your head. With your nose buried in his neck, smelling the savoury scent of his last meal and the sultry perfume of his cologne. With your index finger, you traced the Greek letters around his neck. "Yes, but it's not painful. My heart doesn't ache because I have you to keep me happy. As long as I have you, my little (prince/ss), then I don't need anything else. What more could I ask for?" "Daddy, you're silly," you beamed, pressing against him shyly and throwing one around his neck. Your fingers started fiddling with his hair, running through the dark locks. "Why am I silly?" "Because," you said evasively, not having an actual answer. But there was just something so mushy about what he said that it made your heart hurt and your insides tingle and feel funny. It made you blush for some reason. "You're just silly," you said eventually. "And you're even sillier," he said, picking up your sketchbook that you'd left on the table which you'd claimed as your throne. "Look at this," he said, nodding down at your drawing. "Your proportions are all wrong," he chided. Earlier, he had asked for a "second-hand artists" opinion on a mask for Kaneki Ken and you'd decided that the sullen-looking boy needed a cool mask, one with a dinosaur on it or a robot. But you always drew the eyes too high, since drawing them in the middle of the skull didn't look right, no matter how many times Uta had told you it was. And ears seemed too big when you drew them from eyebrow to nose, even if that's how they were supposed to be, so you liked to draw smaller ears and make your own proportions. "But faces look better that way," you muttered. "Hm, but if Kaneki put on his mask and his ears didn't fit or his eye holes were on his forehead, it wouldn't look good then, would it?" "Yes, it would," you huffed stubbornly. The bell above the door chimed, stopping whatever retort Uta had. A subtle floral scent fluttered in, the natural flavour of whatever unfortunate human had wandered in. The girl stood by the door looking uncomfortable when her gaze locked with yours since you looked over Uta's shoulder at her, his back facing the human. Her teeth nipped at the silver ring on her full lower lip, sucking it before releasing it then repeating. "Um, I - I was wondering if you did masquerade masks? Like for school dances?" You looked up into the black sclera and red irises that your father tended to always keep activated unless he was in public with you, taking you clothes shopping or buying you cool new pencils with cartoons on them and animal-shaped rubbers. When he sent you a sweet smile, kissing your temple, you knew to activate your kakugan too. Dinner was being served. . "Uncle Yomo!" you screeched, running full force at the tall, muscled man and colliding with his leg, latching on tightly. He didn't even flinch, reaching down to pat your (h/c) hair as a way of greeting. "Aww, don't I get such a warm welcome too?" Itori asked, wandering in the door of HySy ArtMask Studio. There was a coldness to her that you didn't like. Something off about her demeanour that made you distrust her. Once, you'd told Yomo about that gut feeling of yours. He was very perceptive, quite and in the background so he picked up on things like that too. He'd patted your hair, much like he always does, saying you were too young to know the truth. He'd said it like it was a secret, one that Itori didn't know he knew, so you pinky promised that you wouldn't tell anyone - even your Dad. It was this loyalty of yours that made Yomo so attached to you. And you'd grown attached to him too, loving the silent man's presence. He was so soothing and he always listened, never talking down to you like other adults did. But you would never feel attached to Itori. "Don't make such a face at me!" she tutted. "A cute little (girl/boy) like you shouldn't frown like that." "Get out of my Studio," you ordered. "You're not a paying customer and you're not food so you have no business being here." "Eh?! Then why can Yomo-kun be here? Unless ... " she crept towards you, the light glinting off the diamonds around her neck as she fluttered her long lashes, "you have a wittle crush on Yomo-kun?" Your face turned redder than her hair. "You're barred from here! Get out!" you shouted. A hand on your head made you flinch. Looking up, you saw the upside down face of your father looking down at you. His piercings glittered in the artificial light like Itori's jewellery, contrasting with the black ink of his tattoos. From such an angle, his lips looked upturned. But his tone held no such annoyance, as cool and peaceful as it always was. "(Y/N)," he said. "Don't be rude to my friend." "What if that friend is an idiot and has bad breath?" "Even if that friend is an idiot and has bad breath." You sighed. "Fine then. But make sure she leaves before my bedtime. I want you to read me a story without her adding a gloom to the atmosphere." "Of course. Now, why don't you show your boyfriend your new drawings while I get us all something to drink?" "He's not my boyfriend!" you huffed, stomping your foot and marching over to Yomo, grabbing his hand and dragging him over to your throne of a table. Climbing up onto the stool, you shakily climbed from there to the table and plopped down, patting the space next to you. "This is where you can sit." Yomo surprised you, sitting on the stool and lifting you up, resting you on his lap. You squeaked, turning pink. With shaky hands, you shyly opened the front cover to the first page with your name proudly written in fancy letters.

"L - Look, that's my name, see? Kaneki's been teaching me and Hinami how to read and write better. She's quicker at picking it up than me but Daddy said that's cause she's older. I'm good at writing my name though, see? Do you like it?" "It's impressive," he hummed softly, resting his chin on top of your head. His beard scratched your skin but in a way that made you giggle and your toes curl up. "And this is what I'm working on at the moment," you said, flipping on a couple pages to the mask you were drawing for Kaneki. "It's for that new worker at Anteiku, the one that Hinami thinks Touka has a crush on. He always looks so scared and sad so I thought that drawing cute things for his mask would make him smile more." "Excellent idea," Yomo agreed. Shyly, you slowly turned to the next page. "And this is my family portrait. B - but it's only a rough sketch so it's gonna look better in the proper one!" In the middle of the drawing was a crudely drawn version of yourself, mostly because you'd never payed much attention to the way your hair parted or how you looked overall. But to your left, clutching your hand, was Uta. You'd given up on trying to draw his many tattoos and piercings so drew black squiggles and dots instead. To his left was Touka, drawn with hands on hips because that's how you always pictured her - scolding someone for something or another.

 Yoshimura was drawn behind her, arms folded behind his back and a smile on his face because that's how he always greeted you when you went to Anteiku. Kaneki had been drawn in on the far right, as a last minute thing, because you hadn't known him for very long but he was so nice to you that you felt mean leaving him out. Then, holding your right hand, was a drawing of Yomo. You'd spent a lot of time on him, made obvious by the indentations around him from your drawing, rubbing it out, then trying again. That happened a few times. It was just so hard to draw him as you always envisioned him. He didn't translate as well on to paper as in real life. You weren't exactly sure how to do it perfectly but you kept trying. "It's beautiful," he said. "I can tell you put a lot of hard work into it." His fingers lightly traced over the page, as if adding it all to memory. He gazed down at the lines on Yoshimura's face, amazed that a child could remember so much detail that people without an artistic view of the world wouldn't have noticed; such as the heavy creases on Yoshimura's old face or that subtle tilt of Touka's head when she was scolding someone. Then there's the slump to Uta's shoulders that Yomo never noticed before until looking at that drawing. "Don't ever change," he said suddenly. "Stay yourself forever." "Okay," you said, holding out your pinky finger. "I promise." He linked his pinky through yours, cool eyes piercing through you as you tilted your head back to look up at him. . "This one or this one?" Uta asked. "That one!" you said, pointing to the book in his right hand. "We already read the other one, like, three thousand bajillion and twelve times." "Okay," he said, slipping the book back into its place your bookshelf and carrying the other one over to your bed and laying down beside you. He curled himself around you, like a protective shield, warming you up as he flipped to the first page. "A long, long time ago," he began. "There was a little ghoul named (Y/N)." You laughed loudly, realizing he was making his own story up. "(S/he) was the most intelligent and most talented ghoul in all of Tokyo. The child had a natural flare for art, no doubt due to (her/his) handsome father. Why are you laughing? That wasn't even a joke." You laughed harder. Uta sighed, carrying on. "And even though (s/he) only had one parent growing up, (s/he) never once cried about it or acted out." "But I like having you a lot, Daddy," you said. "I don't need anyone else." He shushed you gently. "This story isn't about you, remember? It happened a long, long time ago. And even though (Y/N) had no siblings to play with or school friends, (s/he) was always on (her/his) best behaviour and helped Daddy out so much in the Studio. Even though Daddy might do some chaotic and destructive things, he will always care for his little (Y/N) very much." You didn't understand why he was still pretending you weren't who the story was about or what he was talking about, but you just nodded because what else was there to say? Uta pressed a delicate kiss to your nose, nuzzling you for a moment before pulling away to climb off the bed. He shuffled over to the bookshelf, setting the book back.

"Goodnight, precious one," he said, turning the light off and leaving the door open just a crack as he walked out. You were afraid of the doves getting in at night, tearing your family apart just for being ghouls, just like they ripped other families apart and left nothing but bloody remains. So to settle your fear, your Dad left the door open so a little light could filter into your bedroom. "Night, Daddy!" you called out.

[lotsofdogs]

Just Another January Weekend

Hey friends! I hope you all had a great weekend and are checking in today after a few days of unplugging and relaxing! Our weekend was relatively quiet but that’s exactly what I wanted.

Saturday

Ryan and I were both up before 6 a.m. on Saturday. I was incredibly restless all night (and up with Chase once – I think he may be having nightmares?) and after I heard Chase making noise on the monitor around 5:30 a.m., I couldn’t get back to sleep. Though Chase snoozed for a bit longer, Ryan and I were up for the day and kicked things off with early morning bowls of high protein hemp oatmeal with all of the fixings.

I spent some time on my devotional before settling in on the couch to work on a mostly meatless meal plan for the week ahead. Here’s a look at what’s on the menu for the Fagan family this week:

Monday: Butternut Squash Grain Bowls

Tuesday: Glowing Spiced Lentil Soup

Wednesday: Zucchini Lasagna

Thursday: Vegan Enchiladas

Friday: Crock Pot Coconut Chicken and Cauliflower Rice Stew

Eventually Chase was up for the day but it was a sloooow wake up. He seemed a little out of it, so we spent a solid 30 minutes reading stories in his room before getting dressed and heading downstairs for breakfast. We initially planned to head out on a morning family hike on some nearby trails but rain thwarted our plans. We came up with a new game plan and decided to sneak in a workout at the gym while we gave the rain a chance to die down.

I took myself through a drop set upper body workout that looked like this:

I rounded things out by following a quick 10-minute bikini arm workout from the Tone It Up Girls that I previously found and loved on YouTube. When I follow YouTube videos at the gym, I just do my best to find a secluded corner and prop my phone up to follow along while listening with my headphones. I typically limit the videos I follow at the gym to fairly short stationary strength or barre-based workouts.

Once Ryan and I were done with our respective workouts, we reconvened and scooped Chase up from childcare before driving back home to leash Sadie up for a walk! We covered around two miles but made a few pit stops to look for fish at the marina and play at a local playground.

(It wasn’t even 50 degrees and Ryan wore shorts on our walk. You can take the boy out of Florida but you can’t take Florida out of the boy.)

Though Chase took a grand total of one nap last week, he clearly can’t hang on such little sleep because he was completely pooped by the time we got back home. We ate lunch and read a few Pete the Cat stories and I’m pretty sure Chase was completely out within two minutes of curling up in his crib. He ended up sleeping for THREE HOURS!

While Chase slept, we showered, put on our pajamas and then I worked on the couch beside Ryan while we streamed The Great British Baking Show. (Why does that show make me so happy!?) I also ended up falling asleep for a solid 30 minutes but that ended up making me feel even more tired and pretty much sucked any ambitions I had to leave the house that evening right out of me. (Slipping into my pajamas at 2 p.m. probably didn’t help those chances either.)

We ended up rolling with my tired feelings and ordered pizza for dinner before our friend Ben came over with two half-gallons of ice cream in hand!

Sunday

Sunday morning began the usual way with breakfast and church followed by random household chores. (Is anyone else still vacuuming up pine needles from Christmas!?) I loved Sunday’s service which spoke about the challenges we all face and how at any give time we’re either in the middle of a challenge, coming out of a challenge or about to find ourselves in a new challenge. Before we left, one of the leaders of the children’s programming at our church found us and gave us the sweetest framed family photo from Chase’s dedication last weekend which I thought was such a nice gesture!

Once we arrived back home, I had some blog work I wanted to get done but thankfully it centered around making and photographing a recipe, so Chase was able to help me in the kitchen which made him awfully happy.

Eventually Ryan wanted to sneak in a workout – he’s participating in a one-month online rowing competition with new challenges released every week – and while he rowed this week’s half marathon challenge (PHEW!), I read books with Chase and tried to settle him down for nap. After yesterday’s epic nap, Chase wanted nothing to do with a nap on Sunday, so after coercing him into 30 minutes or so of of “quiet time” by himself with some books in his room, he was up and ready for action.

It rained all day on Sunday which meant we were stuck inside for the rest of the afternoon but we made the most of it and read more books before Chase was ready for train playtime. I took advantage of his solo play and compiled a grocery list from my meal plan for the week. Ryan made it home not long after and proceeded to race Chase around the house with their two ride-on car toys with Sadie trailing close behind. I think they completed approximately 10,000 laps and Chase was in heaven!

Around 5 p.m., we decided to brave the rain and made a trip to the grocery store to pick up food for the week ahead before driving back home, unloading groceries and diving into our Whole Foods hot bar boxes for dinner. Ryan and I did the whole bath and bedtime routine with Chase before climbing into bed ourselves around 9 p.m.

The week ahead should be a good one! Chase is back in preschool today (he’s only had school three times this month because of various closures and holidays so I am PSYCHED for some solo work time) and I will be meeting up with some of my best girlfriends for my small group tonight. As for the rest of the week, the biggest thing on my mind is my 20 week prenatal appointment on Wednesday. I was positive I felt our baby move several times this weekend (positive because the movements finally weren’t accompanied by gas – haha!) and it was unbelievably amazing. I hope this one is a mover and a shaker because I cannot get enough of those reassuring flutters.

I hope to see you around here throughout the week and really hope you all have a wonderful week ahead!

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