#its like christmas came early

[gallade-supremacy]

Big day for the most autistic person you know

[mustasekittens]

i'm back in the fucking building

[nugulover69]

Beta Hariyama line I wuv you so so so much. fat lil thaaaaangs

[tea-you-later-losers]

okay so back in my day sweet 10 year old me was sooo fucking obsessed w Eragon bc i was a major dragon kid

anyways im nearly 25 and its time i pick up Murtagh from my local library i dont CARE if one of the first things that pops up when you google it is a reddit thread about why the books bad thats not what im HERE FOR

im here for little me to get reabsorbed into a big place where i still remember the map and political dynamics and cultural spread of the world and see a character i loved dearly (adored the angsty dark hair boys lmao classic) and have them sit in my heart kicking their feet while i read a probably mid book!!! im here for a good time not a great time!!

[needahugfromesme]

It's time for Carlisle and Esme to make their 1950s photos into funny Christmas cards

[scarameownya]

ALY

I WILL KILL (/POS) YOU

[brdcge]

Shi.nobu: I wanna kill the guy ranked above you and I don't care if I do it or if someone else does it he just needs to die

Ak.aza, suddenly the happiest he's ever been:

[septimus-heap]

My parents r atheists with christian parents which means that me and my sibling r atheists with atheist parents. One side effect of this is that christmas is a Big Deal to my parents but I'm atheist enough that christmas has basically no meaning to me outside of "the time of year I get free stuff"

[nerdie-faerie]

Apparently I timed my quitting perfectly

[jessiescock]

Im addictted to watching info videos and documentaries about all different kinds denominations sects of usamerican Christianity really. If anyone has any good recs please do let me know

[violetwoodnymph]

gift for you! (Tumblr banner! /nf to use!)

:D this is perfect for the X blog!!!

[italktoomuchxd]

Simon grew up in a household where toys were a rarity, and his childhood playthings were limited to a few humble items. Among them were a set of small green plastic soldiers and a well-worn car, its tire long since worn and broken. However, what truly captured Simon's imagination was his sister's old porcelain doll, a treasured gift from their grandmother.

Oh, that doll! With its delicate white skin glowing softly in the light, plump red cheeks that seemed to blush with life, and bright blue eyeshadow that accentuated its striking blue eyes, the doll was enchanting. Its golden hair shimmered like spun sunlight, cascading in gentle curls, while a long, flowing blue dress adorned it, reminiscent of the elegant figures from a fairy tale.

Simon adored that doll, pouring all his affection into play, nurturing it as if it were truly alive. But his innocent joy came to a devastating end one fateful day when his father, in a fit of anger, hurled the precious doll against the wall. The shattering porcelain echoed through the room, marking the destruction of the most beloved object in Simon's world, leaving behind broken fragments and a heavy heart…

You and Simon were still in the early stages of your relationship when you decided to invite him to spend Christmas at your home. The atmosphere felt cozy, just the two of you introverts nestled away in a familiar space. As he stepped through your front door, a bottle of wine cradled in his hand, you felt a mix of excitement and nerves fluttering in your stomach.

As he made his way toward the living room, the warm glow of the holiday decorations framed the scene perfectly. However, his gaze quickly fell upon a surprising sight that filled the corner of the room—an array of supplies scattered about. The vibrant fake hair, a box of paints, assorted little fabrics, and the glinting edges of a sewing machine revealed a world that was uniquely yours.

“Oh…sorry—it's my hobby,” you said with a nervous chuckle, your cheeks warming under his scrutiny. “I like restoring dolls.”

At that moment, you could see the intriguing spark in Simon's eyes…he fell for you once more—call it childhood trauma; he didn't care he'd spend Christmas night painting doll faces with you.

Part 2

[malfoys-demigod]

“Wear a jacket, it’s cold outside”

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ Logan Howlett x Reader

Summary: Just a quick fluff drabble where the reader’s out admiring the morning snow, but also at the same time not wanting to admit she’s cold and of need of a jacket

A/N: Hi all!! It has been a while since I wrote. Life has been so hectic for me, but ever since I watched Deadpool and Wolverine recently, the love I have for X-men came back and I really loved seeing tons of Wolverine fics pop up!

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

There was always something magical about the first morning snow at the X Mansion that made Y/N feel like the happiest girl in the world.

There was that feeling of serenity and calm that comes from snowy environments which she loved feeling every winter. It would prompt nostalgic memories: childhood fun, holidays spent yearning for a white Christmas - it just made her happy.

So when the first snow arrived early in the morning, Y/N got up as fast as she could, slipping on her favorite winter boots as she made a dash out to the entrance of the X Mansion, only wearing her long-sleeved pajama top and jogging pants.

There it was.

A fresh blanket of snow, covering the whole landscape of the area, as more snow fell down gracefully from the sky. Y/N was enjoying the sound of silence - watching the snow flutter down like magical confetti, which felt so healing to her.

She watched as the trees were heavy with snow on its tips, smelling damp pine cones from a distance. She never felt so happy.

That was until she took a few steps outward from the driveway with her last step causing her to take a small slip into a soft blanket of snow. She was now laying on wet snow, laughing her ass off from being so reckless out of nowhere all alone. The gleaming snow around her was what made her choose to stay grounded on the floor, expanding her arms and legs as they made snow angel movements.

It was only a matter of time for Y/N to start experiencing the frost bitten feeling around her body, numbing her as she continued staying out in the snow without proper protecting from being frozen. Yet.. she didn’t exactly have plans on going back in to wear protective gear just yet.

Meanwhile back inside the X Mansion, Logan had just woken up from a surprisingly good sleep. He didn’t have any nightmares to fight off this time. He actually woke up peacefully.

He got up, wore his regular leather jacket, fixed himself up quickly, and took a look at his window, seeing white, as he discovered the first snow of the season.

What he then noticed after was Y/N, lying down on the carpet of snow, with a smile on her face. Logan swore he almost felt a smile on himself growing too fast for his liking. He always kept his relationship with Y/N to a friendly-teasing kind of thing going on, but deep down, he always wanted to see if he could have more than that with his colleague.

His face definitely returned to his typical serious form, as he took a closer look at Y/N… with tingling cold finger tips, shivering slightly. He wondered why she wasn’t returning yet inside to warm up, and a level of concern grew in him, picturing her as a poor, frost bitten kitten, who needed help.

He turned around and made his way outside at full speed.

The heavy crunches of the snow under Logan’s feet as he stomped towards her caused Y/N to sit up and turn around.

Logan huffed at the sight of his kitten, looking bitterly cold now as her arms were crossed tightly. “Kid, what the hell are you doing?”

She smiled childishly with pink spots on her cheeks, which Logan discretely found lovable. “Um, enjoying the first snow?”

Logan had a displeased look on his face, definitely due to her reply. “No shit, but ever thought of doing it with extra layers on? You’re gonna freeze yourself to death, bub. You don’t want the kids to wake up on the first day of snow and see their teacher frozen over, do ya?”

Y/N was too amused with the silly, impossible idea of turning into an iced sculpture to even notice the worried look Logan had on his face. “Oh come on, Lo,” she brushed it off, “I’m fine. A little cold won’t hurt me.”

Logan was about to protest until Y/N brought out a small sneeze. She pointed at him her best straight-face, wanting to speak up first after her ‘A little cold won’t hurt me’ statement.

“Shut up, Logan,” she commanded, “That was nothing. I’m fine.”

The secretly smitten man, rolled his eyes, not buying a single thing she said. “Alright, here we go” he said, pulling her up for her to stand on her feet as she whined, “Hey!”

“Wear a jacket, it’s cold outside.” He pleaded after she complained with her frowns.

“But I really just wanted to stay a few minutes longer then I’ll go back in,” she admitted, giving her best ‘Puss-in-Boots adorable eyes’ that made Logan want to fold so damn easily. But he shook his head, removing his favorite leather jacket, that he would never just give to anyone. Her few minutes were definitely not few minutes and he knew that.

“Take it and wear it,” he surrendered.

Y/N lightly gasped, knowing very well that Logan and his leather jacket were famously inseparable. She was too flustered to say anything at the moment, so she took the jacket from him, mumbled a thank you, and started wearing it.

Logan had definitely taken a liking to what he was seeing. She looked so good in his jacket and he was captivated by how adorable she looked, with the jacket looking slightly oversized on her.

Y/N felt her heartbeat move faster when she taken a notice at Logan’s fitted black shirt, outlining the muscles that attracted her since the first day they met. She looked away, looking down at her shoes, hoping her cheeks weren’t pinker than they were earlier.

“You wanna join me for those last few minutes?” She asked teasingly with a small smile on her face. How could he say no to her?

He ‘nonchalantly’ huffed a ‘kay and sat down with her on the ground. She shifted a little closer to him, her head leaning on his shoulder. While her eyes were focused on the snow in front of her falling from a distance, his eyes were on her, wanting to make sure he saw her reaction to when the shoulder she was leaning on moved up, as Logan started wrapping his arm on her, getting them closer than how they were just a second ago.

Logan smirked to himself, seeing how red-faced Y/N was now, still focusing her attention on the snow, as she was avoiding eye contact with Logan, who was now hoping they spend more than a few minutes cozying up together before heading back in.

Maybe after that, he could treat her to hot chocolate, because of course, it was cold and he without a doubt thinks it’s the only nice thing to do afterwards…! *wink*

@snackthatsmilesbackchlldren @iluvloganhowlett (shoutout to you and your amazing fic so far! love seeing your works!)

[no-144444]

in sickness- c.leclerc

summary: you get sicky...

pairing: charles leclerc x fem! reader

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

When Charles had decided to go vacationing with his friends while you finished up your work before Christmas, he was not expecting what he saw when he came back. Every single blind in your apartment was down despite it being the middle of the day, the temperature was down from its regular 20 degrees, and you were nowhere to be found. 

He dropped his bags by the door and left his shoes on the rack, and he ventured further into the apartment. You weren’t in your office, nor your living room, nor your kitchen, so the last place was your bedroom. When he opened the door, he wasn’t exactly ready for what he saw. 

You, on your bed, looking sicker than ever, somehow asleep as you battled some sort of temperature. He put his hand to your forehead, and he almost pulled it right back off, you were so hot. He quickly grabbed a face cloth and ran it under cold water, then placed it on your head. He didn’t really know what else to do. You never really got sick, it was always him who was ill. 

He left you to sleep as he cleaned up the rest of your apartment. Not that it was messy, it was just not as clean as he knew you liked it, so he got to work. 

After about an hour of that, he decided he should make you soup or something, but then he remembered his abysmal cooking skills, and ordered food in, instead. 

When you resurfaced, you didn’t feel as shit as when you went to bed, which was a plus. The past 5 days had been this awful temperature, chesty cough, nausea, and full-body aches. You groaned as you got up, knowing you should probably start cleaning your apartment-

You questioned your own brain when you opened your door from your bedroom to see your entire living room clean. Had you done it and you just didn’t remember? Were you starting to forget things now? Is that a new symptom? You should probably go back to the doctor-

“My love,” he sighed, pulling you into a hug. 

“Charles?!” you questioned. 

“Hi darling,” he smiled, looking down at you. 

“I thought you were still in-”

“I came back early,” he explained. “What’s been wrong with you, mi beauté?”

You cracked a small smile. “I seriously doubt I look half-way beautiful right now.”

He shook his head. “You’re always beautiful.”

You rolled your eyes. “Cheesy,” you scoffed before letting go of him and walking to your kitchen. “I’ve just been sick, it’s not anything bad.”

He looked at you sceptically. “You’re sure?”

You nodded, taking out some of the soup. “Thank you for coming, but I really don’t want you to get this, so you should head to your apartment or something.” 

He frowned. “My own girlfriend kicking me out?”

You rolled your eyes again. “Your own girlfriend is looking out for your safety, I think you’ll find.”

He shook his head, sitting beside you on the couch. “I’m not leaving you. In sickness and in health.”

You sucked in a breath of air. “We’re not even engaged yet.”

He shrugged. “I plan on honouring that for the rest of my life, why not start now.” 

You grinned, resting your head against his shoulder on the couch as you started channel hopping. “You’re so sappy.”

He shrugged. He didn't mind anything you called him, once you still called him yours. 

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navigation for my blog :)

ferrari masterlist

[mywritersmind]

THE FAT MAN IN THE RED - LN4

summary : Lando Norris promised two hours of his night to wave to little ballerinas and have them whisper their wishes to him in a Santa costume. His night starts looking up when a woman his age lands on his lap.

listen up : no warnings tbh! suggestive jokes SORRY ITS SO SHORT I WAS GONNA WRITE A LOT BUT ITS ALREADY CHRISTMAS TO HAVE THIS

words : 692

⋆｡‧˚⋆

“Oh please! Come meet Santa!” My little sister Mari tugs on my hand. She’s in a little pink tutu and a slick back bun, her ballet shoes have been changed into her usual converse.

We’re at an after party/fundraiser for her ballet show, the kids were all surprised by a man dressed as santa. She was adorable, a tiny Clara!

Mari skips off with her friends as I turn to mine. Kat downs her drink, “I need another one. Too many kids around.” I laugh and clink her already empty champagne glass.

We walk off to the bar, looking up at the giant chandelier and sprawling stairways. This theater is beautiful, kids in costumes and glitter run around while the society of Monaco gossips and laughs in their presence.

We grab more champagne, smoothing out my dark plum dress and almost twisting an ankle with these silver heels my sister begged me to wear.

“Y/n!” Mari yells, hopping up and down, in line to meet the big man himself. Or… a knock off.

“Oh my.” Kat elbows me, “I’d let him slip down my chimney-” I scoff loudly and laugh, hitting her arm.

“What about that french boy you met?” I raise a brow, my eyes lingering on the man whose face is partially covered by a white wig and beard.

“Oh I see him.” She winks as I giggle, “Come on then, you must meet this cute santa!” I groan as she drags me to the back of the line, “I’ve heard whispers… he’s twenty six.” She whispers as I watch two F1 drivers walk past us.

“I am not sitting on his lap!” I laugh, shaking my head and sipping my drink, Kat grips my arm and pulls me to the front next to Mari.

“What are you asking for?” Mari asks me, clapping her little hands together and tapping her feet.

Her friends touches my dress, “This is so pretty!”

“I heard he’s famous.” One of the ballerinas behind us says just as I get pushed onto the little stand and an elf guides me.

He looks at me, all dressed up and in a whole fat suit. I can’t help but laugh as I get helped onto his lap. I honestly feel horribly awkward, “Sorry… my friend made me.”

His eyes are green, the kind of striking color that stops your thoughts. He tugs down his fake beard, exposing his face and smile.

A very attractive face and smile. “Don’t worry. Are you gonna make me do the voice?” He's got freckles and an accent.

I smile softly, “There’s a voice?”

“What are you asking for this christmas?” He says it in a deep santa like voice.

I laugh, “That’s good.”

“Why thank you…” I raise a brow at his trailing off, “I need a name to match the pretty face, and for the address of your gifts, I suppose.”

Oh he’s a flirt. “Y/n.” I nod, “You gonna make me call you santa?” His fingers brush the side of my hip.

“I’m not that into role playing…” He shakes his head and I spot a tiny dark curl by his ear, “Okay the elf’s are about to get mad. What would you like for Christmas, Y/n?”

He says my name, looking me dead in the eye. Shit I think I might be attracted to Santa.

I bite my lip, “How about, what time Santa gets off?”

His smile shifts into a smirk, “Christmas came early, I guess. Ten.”

He meets me in an empty hallway, Its almost hard to tell if it’s him because of his change in clothes.

He's in a black suit, bowtie and everything. He’s far more agreeable without the white hair.

In fact, the white is replaced with real curls. Dark curls cut into a nice mullet that suits his face. It was in fact a fat suit that I can now clearly see was horribly fake.

I have a sneaking suspicion that tonight is going to be extra interesting now. His hands go to his pockets, that smile on display again for me. “I’m Lando.”

[theonottsbxtch]

FOREVER AND ALWAYS | MV1

an: military au go reeeee, my friend is currently talking to a marine so it makes this funnier, anyway this is a request and be prepared for how much im about to post, im posting all my wips so i can start a new

wc: 3.8k

THE LAST MORNING MAX spent in town was unseasonably warm for late September, but she still wore his old hoodie over her dress. It swallowed her, the cuffs rolled up clumsily so her fingers could peek through. Max liked seeing her in it; she made it look softer than it ever felt to him. They sat on the hood of his truck by the edge of the lake, the same spot they always went to when something big needed to be said.

“You’ll write, right?” she asked, her voice steadier than the fingers twisting the hem of his sleeve.

Max didn’t answer right away. He hated promises. He hated making them and breaking them even more. But he wasn’t going to break this one. “Every day,” he said, his voice a little rough. “I mean it, okay? You’ll be sick of me by Christmas.”

“I could never,” she said, and the words felt too small for how much she meant them.

The sun caught in her hair, and Max felt the ache of leaving settle deeper in his chest. He should’ve been relieved—one last night in this town, in that house—but all he could think about was how hard it was going to be to drive away from her in the morning.

“I’ll write back every time,” she promised, her eyes locked on his like she could hold him here through sheer willpower. “Don’t you dare stop.”

“I won’t.”

It was the closest thing to forever they’d ever said to each other, and Max wanted to believe it could be.

He didn’t sleep much that night. Max stayed parked outside her house long after walking her to the door, watching the glow of her bedroom light until it finally went dark. He told himself he’d leave when she was asleep, but his hands stayed glued to the steering wheel, his heart beating louder than the crickets outside.

Morning came too fast. He stood on her porch in his pressed uniform, his duffel slung over his shoulder. Her dad answered the door, grunted something about “too early for this,” and disappeared back into the house. Max heard her footsteps upstairs, quick and light, and then there she was, rushing down to meet him, already wearing a smile he didn’t deserve.

“You’re really doing it,” she said, her voice tight with something caught between pride and fear.

“I am.”

She stepped closer, her fingers brushing the crisp fabric of his sleeve. “You’re going to be okay, right?”

Max didn’t know how to answer that. He could handle the yelling, the rules, the miles of running. But leaving her? That felt like the first real battle.

“You’re the toughest guy I know,” she added softly, filling the silence.

“Tough’s not the same as okay,” he admitted, his voice low.

“Then I’ll be okay for both of us.”

The words hit him harder than he expected, wrapping around something fragile in his chest. He leaned down and kissed her, quick and desperate, like he could steal a little of her steadiness to take with him.

When they finally broke apart, she laughed softly, her forehead still resting against his. “You’re coming back, Max. Don’t forget that.”

“I won’t,” he said.

He didn’t know if it was a promise or a prayer.

The bus station was quiet that early in the morning, just a couple of strangers milling around with their heads down and coffee in hand. Max stood off to the side with her, his duffel at his feet and his hands shoved deep into his pockets to keep from grabbing hers. She said she couldn’t come, but watching him walk back to the truck made her call in sick for work and follow him in. 

“You should go sit,” he said, nodding toward the bench near the car park.

She gave him a look, one eyebrow raised in challenge. “I’m not leaving this spot until you’re on that bus.”

A faint smile tugged at his lips. Of course she wouldn’t. She was stubborn like that, always had been. He loved her for it, even if it made saying goodbye harder.

The bus pulled up, its brakes hissing as it rolled to a stop. Max felt the weight of the moment settle on his shoulders, heavier than the duffel. This was it.

He turned to her, unsure of what to say. Every word that came to mind felt too big or too small.

“Write me first,” she said, breaking the silence. Her voice was soft, but her eyes burned with determination. “As soon as you get there. Don’t wait for me to start.”

“I will,” he said, nodding. “Every day, remember?”

She smiled at that, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him, holding on so tightly it felt like she was trying to anchor him there.

He let himself hold her back, burying his face in her hair for just a moment. He wasn’t going to cry. He wouldn’t let himself.

“I’ll see you after training,” she whispered against his chest, her voice shaking just a little. “I’ll be there, Max.”

He pulled back, cupping her face in his hands. “You promise?”

“I promise.”

The driver called for boarding, and Max grabbed his bag. He didn’t look back as he stepped onto the bus. He couldn’t. If he did, he might not get on at all.

But as the bus pulled away, he glanced out the window. She was still standing there, exactly where he left her, her hand raised in a wave he couldn’t return.

He pressed his forehead against the glass, the weight of her promise settling in his chest. She would be there. He had to believe it.

Training was relentless.

The early mornings were the worst—before the sun even thought about rising, before his body remembered how to move. They ran until their legs felt like they’d snap beneath them, did push-ups until their arms gave out, and marched under the weight of packs that felt heavier with every mile. The shouting never stopped, every mistake earning a punishment meant to break them down and rebuild them into something sharper, stronger.

But it was nothing compared to what Max had already endured.

At home, the yelling was never meant to make him stronger. The bruises weren’t badges of discipline—they were reminders of how small he was made to feel. Every time he hit the ground during training, his drill sergeant barking at him to get up, Max thought of how often he’d done the same thing in that house. He got up then, and he got up now.

The other guys complained at night, lying on their bunks and licking their wounds, but Max didn’t join in. They didn’t know how lucky they were—how much easier it was to run ten miles when there wasn’t a door slamming behind you or fists flying to match.

And then there were the letters.

Her first one came the day after he arrived, folded neatly into an envelope with her handwriting scrawled across the front. The sight of it made his chest ache, and he didn’t even wait to get back to the barracks to read it.

Hey, tough guy. I hope this gets to you quick. Are they making you run as much as I think they are? Do you miss me? I miss you. It’s been one day and this town already feels different without you. Keep writing, okay? I’ll keep writing too. Just don’t let them make you forget who you are, Max. I love you.

The letters became his lifeline. Every night, after lights-out, he’d sit on the edge of his bunk with a flashlight and write her back. He told her about the blisters on his feet, the meals that barely qualified as food, the drill sergeant who could make a grown man cry with a single word. But he also told her how he was getting stronger, faster, better—how he thought about her every time things got too hard.

She didn’t just write about missing him. Her letters were full of details—what their friends were up to, how the leaves were starting to change by the lake, what songs were playing on the radio. She made him feel like he wasn’t missing everything. Like she was keeping his place for him.

The days blurred together after a while, a constant cycle of exhaustion and repetition. But then, one morning, everything felt different.

It was the last day of training.

Max stood in formation with the others, the sun rising behind them as their drill sergeant paced in front of the line. They’d been through hell together—guys who had started as strangers now felt like brothers. But Max wasn’t thinking about them.

He was thinking about her.

He scanned the crowd of families waiting just beyond the training field, his heart pounding harder than it ever had during a run. She had said she’d be here. She promised.

And then he saw her.

She was standing near the back, craning her neck to see over the heads of taller people in front of her. When their eyes met, she smiled so brightly that for a second, everything else—the noise, the exhaustion, the fear—fell away.

Max’s throat tightened, but he forced himself to focus. One last task. One last push. He would finish this, and then he’d go to her.

And this time, he wouldn’t have to leave too soon.

Max’s heart hammered as the ceremony came to a close. The drill sergeant dismissed them with a sharp bark, and the tension that had held the recruits in place finally broke. Families surged forward, cheers and hugs filling the air. Max stood frozen for a moment, scanning the crowd again until he saw her pushing through the mass of people, her face a mix of determination and joy.

She was exactly how he remembered her, but somehow even better. Her hair bounced as she hurried toward him, and the familiar tilt of her smile made his chest ache. And yet, as soon as she stopped a few feet in front of him, she planted her hands on her hips like she had all the time in the world.

“Well, well,” she said, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Hey there, tough guy.”

Max swallowed hard, trying to keep his composure. But her teasing grin made the corner of his mouth twitch, threatening to break into a smile he wasn’t supposed to give just yet.

From behind her, one of his barrack mates, Danny came up and watched her as she eyed up Max. When she noticed him, he nodded at her. “Ma’am.”

She snorted, shaking her head. “Don’t ‘ma’am’ me, I’m only young.” She stepped closer, looking at Max once more, her expression shifting to exaggerated awe. “That’s a whole lot of muscles you’ve got there now. What’ve they been feeding you?”

Max tried not to laugh, but he couldn’t stop his lips from curving upward.

“You’re not supposed to touch the recruits until they’ve been tapped out,” Danny said, his voice low, playful.

She raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by Max’s attempt at staying serious. “Is that so? Guess I’ll have to keep my hands to myself for a minute longer, huh?”

He held her gaze, the tension building between them until it was almost unbearable. She took another step forward, her smile softening into something sweeter, something he’d missed so much it hurt.

“Max,” she said quietly, her voice just loud enough for him to hear over the noise around them.

And then, finally, she reached out and tapped his shoulder.

That was all it took. Max didn’t hesitate—he dropped his duffel to the ground and swept her into his arms, lifting her clean off the ground. She laughed, but it broke halfway through, and then she was crying, her face buried in his shoulder.

“I missed you,” she said, her voice muffled against his uniform.

Max held her tighter, his eyes stinging as he pressed his cheek against her hair. “I missed you too,” he murmured, his voice thick.

For a moment, neither of them moved. She clung to him like she was afraid he might disappear, and Max let himself soak in the feel of her in his arms—the warmth, the softness, the familiarity he’d craved every single day he was gone.

When she finally pulled back, her hands stayed on his shoulders, her fingers brushing against the hard muscle beneath his uniform. She tilted her head, a teasing smile breaking through her tears. “Seriously, Max. What’s with these muscles? You didn’t look like this when you left.”

He chuckled, the sound low and rough, and shook his head. “Had to give you something to brag about, didn’t I?”

She laughed, swiping at her cheeks with the sleeve of her sweater. “Oh, I’m definitely bragging. You’re not going anywhere without me showing you off first.”

“Not going anywhere without you at all,” Max said softly.

Her smile faltered for just a second, her eyes filling again. “Good,” she whispered. “Because I’m not letting you go.”

He cupped her face gently, leaning in until their foreheads touched. “You’re stuck with me now.”

“Always,” she said, and for the first time in months, Max felt like he was finally home.

As they were about to kiss, a cough disrupted them. Danny. “Are you done?”

“Leave me alone Danny, I’ve seen enough of you.” Max laughed, pulling her in closer. 

“I’m heading out, my girl’s at the car but I’ll see you soon, yeah?” Danny asked, taking off his hat and running his hand through it.

“Yeah you will. See you soon Dan.”

The desert heat was unrelenting, the sun beating down on Max and Danny as they sat outside their barracks during a rare moment of downtime. Max leaned against a wall, his cap pulled low over his eyes, but it wasn’t enough to shield him from Danny’s relentless teasing.

“You’ve been staring at that box for five minutes, man,” Danny said, smirking as he leaned back in his chair. “You sure you don’t want me to take it off your hands? I’d do a solid job proposing to her, you know.”

Max shot him a look, his jaw tightening, though there was no real heat behind it. “Touch it, and I’ll bury you in the sand.”

Danny snorted, tossing a rock lazily across the dusty ground. “Relax, lover boy. I’m just saying—you’ve had that ring for months. You’ve got the whole speech planned, don’t you? ‘I’ve loved you since we were kids, you’re my whole world,’ blah, blah, blah. Bet you even practiced in the mirror.”

Max rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help the faint smile tugging at his lips. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the small velvet box, flipping it open to reveal the simple but elegant ring inside. He didn’t need anything flashy—she wouldn’t want that. The ring was perfect: timeless, just like her.

“I don’t need a speech,” Max said quietly, running his thumb along the edge of the box. “She already knows. She’s known since before I left the first time.”

Danny’s teasing grin softened into something more genuine. “She’s a lucky girl, you know. Not everyone would stick around through all this.”

“She’s not sticking around,” Max corrected, his voice firm. “She’s living her life—uni, friends, everything she’s always wanted. She’s just...waiting for me to come back, too.”

Danny whistled low. “Well, when you put it like that, I guess you’re the lucky one.”

Max didn’t argue. He thought about her every day—her laugh, the way she scribbled little doodles in the corners of her letters, the photo she’d sent him of her sitting on the quad with her textbooks spread out around her. She looked happy, and that was what mattered most to him.

But God, he missed her.

“I’ll ask her when we’re off duty,” Max said, snapping the box shut and tucking it safely back into his pocket. “The next time I get to see her, I’m not waiting. I’m not wasting another minute.”

Danny grinned, tipping his chair back on two legs. “You’re gonna make me cry, man. I’m just glad I’ll be there to see it.”

“You’re not invited.”

“Like hell I’m not.”

They both laughed, the kind of laugh that felt rare in a place like this. For a moment, the heaviness of deployment lifted, replaced by something lighter—hope.

But when the laughter faded, Max’s mind drifted back to her. He pictured her sitting in a lecture hall, twirling a pen between her fingers, her hair catching the sunlight. She’d promised him that first day he left that she’d always be there waiting for him, and she had never broken that promise.

And soon—so soon—he’d finally get to make one to her.

The cab pulled up to her apartment building, a modest brick complex tucked onto a quiet street just off campus. Max stared out the window, his heart thundering in his chest. It didn’t matter that he’d seen her a year ago on leave or that they’d talked just last week on a grainy video call. Being here, knowing she was just a flight of stairs away, made it all feel brand new.

Danny’s words echoed in his head as he grabbed his bag and climbed out. Don’t mess this up, man. She’s been waiting long enough.

The door to her unit opened before he could even knock. There she was, framed in the doorway, wearing an oversized sweater and leggings, her hair falling loose around her shoulders. She broke into a smile so bright it felt like the sun had come out, and before he could say a word, she threw her arms around his neck.

“Max!” she breathed, holding onto him like she never wanted to let go.

He dropped his bag and wrapped her up, burying his face in her hair. She smelled like home, like everything he’d missed.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice catching.

She pulled back just enough to look at him, her hands sliding to his shoulders. “You’re here. You’re actually here.”

“I’m here.”

She laughed, the sound a little shaky, and grabbed his hand, tugging him inside. “Come on, I made dinner. It’s probably cold by now, but I didn’t want to risk leaving the kitchen in case—”

She didn’t get to finish.

Max stopped dead in the small kitchen, his eyes scanning the space—the mismatched dishes on the counter, the vase of sunflowers he recognised from her letters, the magnets on the fridge holding up her class schedule and pictures of them together. It was perfect.

And suddenly, he couldn’t wait.

“This wasn’t how I planned it,” he muttered, mostly to himself.

“What?” She turned, confusion flickering in her eyes.

Max dropped to one knee right there in the middle of the kitchen, pulling the velvet box from his pocket. He saw her gasp, her hands flying to her mouth, but he was too focused to stop now.

“I wasn’t going to do it like this,” he said, the words tumbling out. “I had a whole plan—something big and romantic—but I don’t care about plans anymore. I just...I love you. I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember, and I don’t want to wait another second to ask.” He opened the box, his hands steady despite the chaos in his chest. “Will you marry me?”

She froze, her wide eyes locked on his. The silence stretched, and Max felt a flicker of panic.

“So?” he said, his voice cracking slightly.

That broke her. She let out a choked laugh, tears spilling down her cheeks as she dropped to her knees in front of him. “I’m sorry! I’m just—yes! Of course, yes!”

Her arms went around his neck, and she kissed him fiercely, her tears wetting his face. Max held her close, the ring box forgotten on the floor as he kissed her back, pouring every bit of love and relief into the moment.

When they finally broke apart, she laughed through her tears, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “You really couldn’t wait, huh?”

“Not for this,” he said, his voice low and raw.

She smiled and kissed him again, slower this time, her hands sliding down to rest against his chest. Max stood, lifting her with him effortlessly, and set her on the edge of the counter.

“Max,” she murmured, her hands slipping beneath the collar of his shirt.

“Yeah?” he said, his forehead resting against hers.

“Welcome home.”

He smiled against her lips, capturing them in another kiss, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Max let himself feel it all—the love, the relief, the joy of knowing he was exactly where he was meant to be.

Dinner had been a blur, both of them too giddy and caught up in the moment to care that the food was lukewarm and hastily reheated. They laughed, talked, and stole kisses between bites, the kind of easy affection that felt like they’d never been apart.

Now, hours later, they were tangled together in her bed. The room was dark save for the soft glow of the streetlight filtering through the blinds. She lay draped across his chest, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on his skin, her eyes fixed on the ring now resting snugly on her finger.

“How are we going to do this?” she asked quietly, her voice thoughtful but tinged with uncertainty.

Max’s hand came up to stroke her back, his thumb brushing along her shoulder blade. He let out a soft sigh. “I leave in three months.”

She stilled for a moment, her finger pausing mid-trace.

“But,” he added, his voice warm and steady, “until then, we live the happy life. All of it. You, me, late-night takeout, bad movies, everything.”

She tilted her head up to look at him, her brow furrowing slightly. “Three months isn’t that long, Max. And I’m still at uni. I’ve got two more years. How—”

“We’ve made it work for two years while I’m away,” he interrupted gently, cupping her cheek with one hand. “We can do two more. You’ve been with me through everything—every deployment, every letter, every call. This won’t be any different. Except now,” he added, his lips quirking into a small smile, “you’ll be my fiancée.”

Her lips trembled, and she leaned up to kiss him, slow and deliberate, her hand slipping over his to hold it against her cheek. When she finally pulled back, her eyes shone with determination.

“You’re really bad at letting me be dramatic, you know that?” she teased softly.

“Someone’s gotta keep you in check,” he said with a smirk.

She laughed quietly, settling back against his chest, and Max tightened his arms around her. They lay there in silence for a while, her fingers once again toying with the ring as if she couldn’t quite believe it was real.

He was engaged.

He was happy.

And he was going to marry the love of his life.

the end.