#the nurse family

[vmkhoneyy]

I think if I could be the kind stranger in someone’s memory, that’d be enough.

[morganbritton132]

Want to make a minor adjustment to my Steve With Much Older Siblings post from yesterday. I think it’d be a much more interesting dynamic if he’s actually their half sibling from an affair.

Their father had an affair with his secretary and then married her when she got pregnant. It broke up their family and they blamed Steve for it for years.

When they stayed over for their weekend with Dad, they were either outright cruel to him or pretended he didn’t exist. When they were old enough to stop coming over, they did. It’s only after growing up and maturing that (most of) his siblings were able to acknowledge that Steve was never at fault for their family breaking up.

They tried to mend their relationship with him, especially after realizing how absent his parents are, but by then Steve was old enough to build up his own resentment. It’s an uphill battle.

It’s a lot of actually coming around for holidays and a lot of teasing when they do. It’s actually picking the phone when the hospital calls, something that’s happening with increasing frequency.

Steve has never asked any of them for anything until one day, he shows up on Richie’s front porch smelling like death and gasoline. He’s got blood drying all over him and is visibly shaking, and Richie thinks that he’s been hurt in the earthquake but Steve barely acknowledges the concern, “I need you to represent my friend.”

“What?”

“You’re the only lawyer I know, and -“ Steve takes a big shuttering breath. “They’ll kill him, Rich. He never hurt anybody but no one will listen. They’ll lock him up and it won’t be fair, and Dustin can’t… I never ask you for anything but. But I need…”

“Eddie Munson?” He asks incredulous. “You’re friends with Eddie Munson?”

[weareinastormoffuck]

I just want to say how incredibly heart breaking it is that Edwin's disappearance was labeled an "act of god". Like the school and police and possibly even his family just decided since he might possibly be gay that god just took him. Like he somehow deserved what happened to him or was asking for it. He deserved so much better and I'm so glad he's loved for who he is now and found a family to love and take care of him.

[portalmonsterrr]

(after like 12872 years) Cyno and Nari ref sheets for the Family AU

[viking-raider]

Syverson Family War

Summary-> You've just gotten off a 12-hour shift at the hospital, only to return home and get swept up into a Syverson Family War, between your husband and three children.

Pairing-> Austin "Sy" Syverson/Reader

Word Count-> 3.2k

Warnings-> PG: FLUFF, Cotton Candy Fluff, Light Teasing, Soft!Sy, SAHD!Sy, Nurse!Reader

Inspiration-> This Instagram Video (If this isn't Sy vibes, idk who Sy is!)

Author’s Note-> This is a work of Fiction!

Divider by->  @FIREFLY-GRAPHICS!

-> If you would like to get notifications for my writing! Just follow my Tag List blog, @VIKING-RAIDER-TAGLIST as well as my @VIKING-RAIDER-LIBRARY and turn on the notifications for it! It’s that easy!’ Ao3-> DRAGON_DWELLER

You were more than excited to be home after a nearly twelve hour shift at the hospital. Your back throbbed and your feet were screaming at the top of their arches from running up and down the ER department. You didn’t even bother gathering up your tote of stuff, as you got out of your car, since you had the next two days off. So, they would wait until a two hour long bubble bath and a nap with eternity.

But upon entering your modest, two story Ranch house, you were bombarded by silence. Your eyes narrowed as they scanned the dining room to your left and living room to your right, ears pricking up for the slightest movement from the bedrooms upstairs.

Something was clearly off. It was almost never this quiet in the Syverson household.

There was always some sort of ruckus or chaos in motion. Your husband blasting music in the garage, where he had set up a small work-out area or telling off whatever game was playing on the enormous tv in the living room. If it wasn’t Sy, it was a combination of your three kids. Your two boys wrestling each other over a toy or giggles, or your daughter discovering a new, little critter from the backyard and bringing it in, before promptly losing it. Or all three kids getting into mischief with each other somehow.

But when it was silent, you knew there were real shenanigans afoot.

You drew in a deep breath, mustering what energy you had left inside yourself, for Syverson Madness. “Guys! I’m home!” You called out, swinging the front door shut with a little more strength than usual, as you moved a step deeper into the powderkeg. “What are you nuts up to?” You mumbled to yourself, moving towards the living room, still trying to keep yourself alert for any kind of trap or scare.

Little good it did, as a strong hand suddenly grabbed your elbow and yanked you backwards into the dark portal of the laundry room door, with a yelp. The hand shifted to your mouth and the door closed with a soft click.

“Ssshh.” Sy cooed at you, moving his hand away. “Gotta keep quiet, Sugar Butt.” He chuckled at you.

You could hear the smirk on his bearded face, before he clicked on the tactical flashlight he was carrying. You looked him over in the dim light, discovering him in his full Army tactical gear, minus his bare feet. He even sported his night vision goggles clipped to his helmet.

“What in the he-” You were about to demand, scanning him again, but spotted one of your son’s Nerf Rifles strapped to his back. “Give me that!” You huffed, gobsmacked, as you took the light and started checking him and the laundry room out. “Good Lord, Almighty!” You laughed, shaking your head.

He had a Nerf pistol in his thigh holster, a pump gun on the dryer, a blaster beside that, and copious amounts of ammo on the washer, with pop grenades. Which you knew were filled with either baby powder or flour from the last time a Syverson War had been declared on the house.

You looked up at your husband, bottom lip trapped between your teeth for a moment. “How long has World War Syverson Seven been going?” You asked, completely amused by how lost Sy got into playing with your kids, and how much they loved it when he did.

Sy looked at his watch. “Since just after breakfast. Myles chose violence and shot Ada in the back, while she was trying to color a picture. Tears ensued, which caused Colt to declare revenge on Myles, in Ada’s name.”

“You got roped into this, how?”

“Ada got in on it, insisting she didn’t need a man to defend her honor…”

“That’s my girl.” You chuckled, smirking.

“It is.” Sy laughed back. “But, in defending her own honor, she shot me in the leg, while I was trying to get them to chill out.”

You nodded your head, seeing all the pieces fall into place. “Which, obviously, by the Syverson Code, requires you to defend your own honor.”

“Obviously, Angel!” Sy answered, faking outrage. “You should know that, after fifteen years!”

“Fifteen years, and I’m still jotting things down in the Syverson Code of Conduct booklet!” You laughed, shaking your head, there were a lot of things Sy lived and would die by.

They were many of the things that made your heart swell with love for the burly, ex-Army vet.

“So, how do I configure into this madness?”

“You just got home from a super long shift, Sugar.” He answered, brow pinching. “You’re an innocent bystander. I just had to save you before one of those hellions out there shot you.”

“My savior.” You cooed, pushing up on your toes and kissing him. “My back and arches appreciate you.”

“The Lair is off limits, per usual.” He informed you. “We just have to make it out of here and upstairs.”

“Quite the way.” You commented, mentally mapping your and Sy’s route out of the laundry room, through the living room and entryway, then finally up the stairs and home free to the master bedroom, which was referred to as the Lair, where you could rest without having to worry about the family war.

“All right, Captain, what’s the plan?”

He gave you the Syverson wink and reached over your head, there was a sharp click and from outside the laundry room, you heard the kids’ screech. Sy had thrown the power switch to the house, plunging it into the darkness. You chuckled, smirking, understanding his tactic now.

“Stay close.” He whispered to you, clicking his ammo to his vest on, before moving to the door. “The enemy is sneaky and uncivilized.” He said, pressing his body against it, listening carefully to the other side.

“Like their father.” You mumbled under your breath with a snort, huddling yourself against his back.

“I’d say more like their mama.” Sy commented back, reaching back to pop you on the bum, then slowly cracked open the door.

You shuffled out after him, casting glances over your shoulder every few seconds. It was easy going, getting through the living room. Sy had defended it mightily throughout the day, so the kids had become shy about entering their father’s domain. You trusted Sy to protect you, from everything, your kids included. Silly as that was to think.

“We have movement at 12!” Sy called out, catching your nine year old, Myles, through his night vision in his fort, consisting of the dining table and chairs that he was hunkered down underneath, belly crawling from one end towards the other, closing the gap between himself and the entryway. “He’s under the table. A sneaky little sniper boy.” He snickered, shouldering the Nerf-AR resting against his side.

You scrunched yourself up behind Sy’s wide and muscular back as Nerf Darts started whizzing by, striking the scuffed wood floor or sticking to the walls. Both Sy and Myles laughed maniacally as they shot at each other; tossing weak insults on top of it.

“Milk drinker!” Myles shouted, hustling to reload.

“Lizard eater!” Sy shot back, smirking.

“Now, boys!” You scolded weakly, snorting.

They continued their assault, Sy guiding you towards a pocket the bottom stairs provided coming down into the foyer, allowing you to take cover and him to shoot through the bars of the steps.

“Are you hit?” You asked, playing along with the game.

“Nothing I’ll die from.” He answered, reloading his weapons. “But, you can be a good nurse and kiss them all better.” He said, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

“That’s cheating!” Myles yelled out.

“Well, If I was over there, I’d do the same thing to you, Bud!” You called back, planting a kiss on Sy’s cheek, his well-groomed beard tickling your skin.

“An aid relief truce then?” Myles suggested, poking his head out from under the table.

“Certainly not!” Sy barked back, popping a Nerf dart off over his son’s head, sending him scurrying back into his fort. “She’s my nurse! I found her out wandering the battlefield, unprotected. If you wanted her to be your nurse, you should have found her first, yourself!”

“I almost did! Before you kidnapped her!” Myles huffed, hotly. “You’re holding her hostage!” He suddenly insisted. “Don’t worry, Mama. I’ll rescue you!”

“Oh my, a hostage situation.” You sighed, licking your lips. “I appreciate your devotion, son.”

“Ha.” Sy scoffed, shaking his head. “I don’t think so, boy. I’m escorting this lovely lady to the Lair.”

As Sy and Myles argued over who was going to have the pleasure of accompanying you upstairs, you caught a slight movement behind you and Sy, lurking in the darkness of the living room; moving slowly. It vanished behind the couch, and for a moment you thought it was just Aika, but when something popped up over the back of the couch, then quickly ducked down again, you were then positive it wasn’t the old girl. But your Daddy’s girl, Ada. Of all the children, six year old Ada was the most like her father. She’d been attached to Sy’s hip from the moment she left your womb. Hanging on Sy’s every word, movement and action, that sometimes it spooked you.

So, watching her stealth around in the dark of the living room was both impressive, amusing and a tad terrifying. Especially since you knew the little hellion was coming for revenge on her father and brother. There were no alliances between them during a Syverson war. You were the only ally allowed to go between the four of them. Mending wounds, mostly pretend ones, but sometimes there were real ones. Sometimes, you’d team up with one of them, to take on the other three.

“On your six! In the living room, babe!” You warned, snagging the Nerf pistol from Sy’s thigh holster as he reacted, purely by instinct, removing one of his baby powder pop grenades, tossing it behind him without looking, trusting your instruction.

Ada startled, surprised that you had noticed her, followed by a cloud of baby powder obscuring her view. She came to a halt, upon hurdling the back of the couch, in an attempt to overtake you and Sy. You took aim and fired, the Nerf dart hitting her square in the chest.

“Nice shot, hon.” Sy nodded, patting your leg, then called out to his daughter. “Sorry, Cricket, but that’s a kill shot.” He told her, his voice soft, but uncompromising.

Ada huffed, pressing her lips together. “Not fair, Mama isn’t supposed to shoot us! She doesn’t have anything to avenge!” She protested, crossing her arms.

Sy chuckled, cocking his head at her. “Mama has her own special rules in our Wars, you know that, Cricket.”

“I’ll come kiss it better, but you know Daddy’s five minute rule.” You chimed in, feeling bad about it, you honestly hadn’t meant to hit her, it was just a lucky shot.

But rules were rules. You could go and kiss her boo-boo better, allowing her to enter the War game again. However, Sy had made a rule that anyone hit with a Kill Shot had to be dead for at least five minutes, before you could render aid to them.

“All right.” Ada sighed, before flopping to the floor with a dramatic sound.

“Where were we?” Sy asked, then nodded. “Right, Myles, kindly allow me to escort my Nurse upstairs.”

“No deal, Pops.” Myles replied, shaking his head.

“Can I just go upstairs on my own?” You asked, peeking at your son through the spindles of the stairs.

Myles was quiet for a moment, considering. “Only if I get to keep you to myself for an hour!” He finally answered.

“Oh, he drives a hard bargain, that son of yours.” You teased Sy, tickling the back of his neck.

“That he does.” Sy agreed, shivering, as he brewed over Myles' offer. “You can have her for thirty minutes!” He negotiated with him.

“Thirty minutes!” Myles barked in outrage.

“You have to go to bed in two hours, boy!” Sy reminded him.

“So, give her to me for an hour!”

You smirked and pressed your palm to the base of Sy’s neck, leaning in close, your lips brushing against his ear, so only he could hear you. “Let him have me for the hour, Austin. I’ve been gone for twelve hours, and they have to go to bed in two. It’ll give me a little bit of time with them.” You reasoned with your husband. “We’ll have all night together after they're asleep, and the next two days, when they're at school.”

Sy nodded, rubbing his lips together. “You’re right.” He whispered back to you. “All right, you can have her for an hour, after you let her go upstairs and do what she pleases.”

A muffled yes came from the dining room. “Deal! You’re free to come out, Mama!”

“Thank God! I have to pee really bad.” You chuckled, kissing Sy, before scurrying out of your hiding place with him and started up the stairs, as you reached the top, you wondered where your middle child, Colt, was.

The seven year old was oddly missing in action the whole time the rest of you were battling and negotiating downstairs. As you reached the top, a cry filled the air, startling the life out of you, before a fury of Nerf darts peppered you all over.

“COLT!” You howled at the boy, dashing for your bedroom door and taking cover behind it.

“Colt Nero Syverson!” Sy’s voice called up the stairs. “You know the rules about firing upon your mother!”

“I’m sorry, Mama.” Colt’s soft voice whimpered in the dark to you. “I didn’t know it was you.”

“It’s fine, little man.” You sighed, rubbing a hand over your face. “Just mind yourself.”

“Okay, Ma.” He smiled, ducking back into his hiding place; his room.

“Oh, this family.” You sighed again, closing the door and rushing for the en suite, tugging off your shoes as you went. “Ooo.” You cooed, enjoying the feeling of the icy tile on your bare, throbbing feet.

Bladder empty, you splashed some cool water in your face, then got out of your nursing scrubs, replacing them with a comfortable pair of shorts and a tank top. You laid down on your and Sy’s enormous bed, dozing off for a couple minutes before getting back up to fulfill the promises you made to Ada and Myles.

“Colt, I’m coming out, please don’t shoot me.” You called through the crack you opened in the bedroom door.

“Okay, Mama!” He called back.

Coming out of the room, you stood at the top of the stairs, but frowned and turned, heading down to Colt’s room. “What are you doing, buddy?” You asked, peeking around the doorframe, seeing he had made a little barricade and was hunkered down behind his bed. “Why haven’t you come down to challenge your dad, brother and sister?”

“Oh, I have, Ma!” He answered, his smile showing off the two front teeth he lost a month before. “I’m just waiting for the most opportune time to go back downstairs to finish off whoever is left.” He sat up on his bed a little more, eyeing you. “How many of them are left?”

You smirked at him, slyly. “You know I’m not allowed to give away information to someone, especially if I’m not teamed up with them, little man.”

“Poop.” He huffed, slapping his mattress and sitting back. “Do you wanna be on my team?” He asked, hopeful.

“Sadly, your Papa had to bargain me off to your brother for an hour, so I could go to the Lair and change.” You informed him, giving him a sympathetic smile. “But, how about this? When it’s bedtime, I’ll come and read to you, whatever you want.”

“Eragon!” He gasped, enthralled again.

“Deal.”

“Deal!”

“All right, wee man, if I don’t see you before then, I’ll see you at bed time.” You cooed at him.

You headed back downstairs, pausing on the middle landing. “I’m coming downstairs, don’t shoot!” You announced to Sy and Myles.

“All clear!” They both called back.

You joined them downstairs, finding them just as you left them.

“Mommy, can I be alive again?” Ada called to you from her spot behind the couch.

“Yes, love, I’m coming right now to fix your boo-boo.” You replied, crossing the entryway and leaned over her, placing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “There, sweet girl. All healed and alive again. Off you trot. Why don’t you watch a movie on your tablet, until bedtime?”

“Thanks, Mama!” She giggled, hugging your waist, then ran off.

With your daughter resurrected, you joined Myles in the dining room, and despite the soreness in your body, got under the table with him. “Just you, Colt and your Papa now, big man.” You told him, propping your head up on your hand. “Tough crowd.”

“But I got you, Mama.” Myles countered. “You can heal all my wounds.”

“Mm, that I can.” You nodded, casting your eyes past the table legs and made out Sy’s outline. “But, that’s about all the energy I’ve got for you. Bringing your sister back to life took a lot out of me. So, I can’t help you fight either of them.”

“That’s fine. I can finish them.”

You reached out and brushed your fingers through his tamed, black curls. “I have all the faith in the world in you, my sweet boy.” You cooed at him, lovingly.

“Moooom!” He groaned, rolling his eyes.

“Time’s wastin’, kid!” Sy called out.

“You stay here, mom. I’m gonna sneak around.” Myles said, wiggling back up the table towards the back entry of the kitchen.

“I’ll be here.” You replied, propping your head up on your hand, eyes drooping for a moment.

At least, you thought it was for a moment, until you felt a pair of strong hands grab your ankles and yanked you out from underneath the table, startling you awake from the nap you dozed into.

“Jesus.”

“Naw, just me, Angel.” Sy grinned, helping you up.

“Where’s Myles?” You asked, rubbing at the sleep in your eyes and noticing he wasn’t in his tactical gear anymore, but just a pair of shorts.

“Out cold in bed.” He answered, steadying you with his hands on your hips.

“But…” You frowned, glancing at the stairs over your shoulder.

“Colt came down not long after Myles tried sneaking around me through the kitchen.” Sy explained to you, a proud little glint in his blue eyes. “Took out both of us, the little rascal.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “We found you asleep and they understood you had a long day, and would spend time with them tomorrow, after they came home from school.”

You pressed your forehead against his chest. “What in the world would I do without you?” You cooed, sighing heavily.

“I don’t know what we would do without you.” He replied, encasing you in his muscular arms and resting his chin on top of your head, rocking gently. “Let’s go to bed, love.” He whispered, scooping you up off your sore feet and carried you upstairs, to bed.

You moaned softly, sinking into the mattress as Sy tossed the blankets over you and kissed your temple, before joining.

[saltseashark]

famblies (found or otherwise)

[cringefail-clown]

ive decided to polish out the coffeshop college au from this post so heres the lineup of the crew from Colors and Mayhem: Cafe and Pub lmfao

so in this au hal's a biomedical engineering major in the area of neural engineering, working part time in a cafe&pub combo owned by callie and cal - fraternal twins who cannot stand each other but made a co-owned business bc theyd not survive on their own in this economy (they couldnt agree if they wanted a calm little coffee spot for studying and meeting friends (callies idea) or an older university partygoers hot spot (cal) so they combined the two into the unhinged mess that it is)

besides hal, theres: equius, engineering student who breaks shit all the time but theyre understaffed as it is so no one fired him yet; damara, a psychology major with the goal of becoming sexologist and gamzee. nobody knows what gamzees doing here

basically its pure chaos all the time

[so-very-small]

“I don’t want to do this.”

“C’mon, you know weddings are fun! You’ll be fine.”

“It’s not the actual shindig that’s the issue; it’s the traveling four states over to get there. That drive is gonna take me like, twelve hours. Be glad you’re a borrower and don’t have to travel for cousins’ weddings.”

“Dude, you’re joking, right? Last year my brother had a destination wedding, two blocks down the street at that house with the big birdbath. It took me three weeks to travel there. I had to fight a CHIPMUNK.”

“Goddamn.”

“I wish I could have drove. The birdbath pool party reception ruled, though.”

“Oh, nice. Open bar?”

“Tinies don’t do that. It was Open Bottle. One open bottle of rum, and we were thriving.”

“Fuck yeah.”

[foxfire-hashira]

As someone who used to work at a nursing home, I'm getting really tired of nursing staff turning to each other and going, "if I ever end up like THAT, just fucking kill me" like motherfucker the quality of life of these residents is your SOLE responsibility and if they're not living their best lives that is YOUR FAULT.

These residents are here because this is their best option. They're here because if they weren't, their quality of life would be worse.

These residents make friends with their roommates, the people they eat with, and the people who go to activities with them.

A disabled elder's quality of life is not measured by their ability to walk.

A disabled elder's quality of life is not measured by their ability to breathe without oxygen.

A disabled elder's quality of life is not measured by whether or not they're on a feeding tube.

A disabled elder's quality of life is not measured by level of continence.

A disabled elder's quality of life is not measured by whether or not they can chew their food.

A disabled elder's quality of life is entirely measured on whether or not their needs are met.

If their quality of life is worse at a nursing home than it would be if they had just stayed home, then their needs are not being met. If you are not meeting their needs, that is YOUR FAULT and you have FAILED your residents as a medical professional.

[beastwistenworld]

MYSTICAL TRIO 2

This time we have:

Revina by the1nonly.revi on Instagram

Nova BlackRose by hearrless_1209 on Instagram

Mendal / Cannibal M by star.rene_plum on Instagram

This time we have:

Bloody Painter by DeluCat on DeviantArt

Judge Angels by yaguyi on DeviantArt

Nurse Ann by yaguyi on DeviantArt

[puppyeared]

Why are ppl scared to call it what it is and say we’re still going thru covid on top of seasonal illness. Like. That’s pretty important right. I was watching the news and they were like oh yeah we have an unprecedented number of flu cases “as well as other sicknesses” without actually saying Covid. No announcement abt vaccinations or masking or anything. Also if I hear someone joking abt “war flashbacks” for mentioning covid I fucking hate u

[that-butch-archivist]

At last, I achieve victory .... the almighty Book Wall. Unfortunately I'm still gonna need another bookshelf. You know how it is.

[dootznbootz]

Menelaus rambles a lot about not only Helen, but also Hermione. About how she used to say Olive like "Olifs". How she lost her first tooth running too fast and running into a low branch while out with Helen. How he'd sometimes wake up to Hermione leaning over him and poking his face to say, "Dad, can we go see the horses?" even though it was barely daylight. How she was much nicer waking Helen and how he thinks Hermione did that on purpose because she found "dad's face funny". How her favorite color was every color.

And Odysseus listens.

And he thinks about how his son only had a few teeth coming in when he left, teething on everything. How he could only say one syllable with his babbles. How his son needed balance to stand but Odysseus was so proud that Telemachus was very good at rolling over. How his son loved pulling at his and Penelope's hair.

How his son would be talking, walking, maybe even lost his first tooth by now. And he doesn't even know if he'll ever know his son's favorite color.

[one-time-i-dreamt]

I had a lot of pain in my shoulders and back, as well as the bottom of my feet. I asked my mom what was wrong cause she’s a nurse and she said my organs exploded.

[viking-raider]

The Frosting Captain

Summary-> Sy tackles a surprise for your daughter, Ada. Taking himself out of him comfort zone and elbows deep into frosting.

Pairing-> Austin "Sy" Syverson/Reader

Word Count-> 1.5k

Warnings-> PG: FLUFF, Cotton Candy Fluff, Light Teasing, Soft!Sy, SAHD!Sy, Nurse!Reader,

Inspiration-> This Instagram Video (This gent makes me think of Sy every time I see him, and his confections look so darn tasty!)

Author’s Note-> This is a work of Fiction! Part of my Syverson Family Chronicles! (You can't tell me Sy probably won't turn into Marshall, when he retires and becomes a stay at home dad!)

Ao3 Link-> HERE

Divider by->  @FIREFLY-GRAPHICS!

-> If you would like to get notifications for my writing! Just follow my Tag List blog, @VIKING-RAIDER-TAGLIST as well as my @VIKING-RAIDER-LIBRARY and turn on the notifications for it! It’s that easy!’ Ao3-> DRAGON_DWELLER

You entered the kitchen, returning home from a long day of work, to discover the last thing you expected of your husband of fifteen years. The tall and muscular, retired Army Captain, turned stay-at-home-dad, was bent over your chaotic center island, sporting nothing underneath your sunflower-print apron, beside his flour dusted, dark-wash jeans. The island and kitchen was littered with nearly every mixing bowl, baking sheet and pan you owned, along with rubber spatulas, wooden spoons, measuring spoons, and all the ingredients you needed to bake a cake.

Your face twisted in a stupefied expression of confusion. Sy wasn’t a baker. The man could cook, yes. He could grill a mean piece of meat. But the delicate nature of making cake to Syverson was like pulling the pin on a grenade. Something he’d rather not do, under any situation. So, finding him meticulously layering and filling a cake made you want to make sure you hadn’t walked into the wrong home.

“Austin?” You croaked, blinking at him.

Sy started, a glob of Peanut Butter buttercream dripping over the side as his hand slipped with the icing knife. “Hey, Sugar!” He replied, giving you a sheepish grin, scraping the buttercream off the side and back into the bowl. “How was your day?” He asked, stepping over to kiss you.

“It was all right.” You replied, nodding and kissing him back. “What have you been doing all day?” You inquired, cocking a brow around the kitchen.

“Oh.” Sy chuckled, a soft pink appearing over his bearded cheeks. “Well, um…” He cleared his throat, wiping his palms on the apron. “I overheard Ada on the way to school this morning, that she wanted a butterfly cake for her birthday. So,...” He twisted his upper body towards his hard work.

Your heart melted, grinning at your Bear. “So, you’re making her a butterfly cake.”

“Yeah.” He nodded, looking back to you, a little abashed. “Not sure how it’s going.”

“Well, let’s have a look.” You said, moving around him.

“I’m going for this.” Sy explained, picking up his flour-y, buttercream covered phone, to show you the vision he had. “I have her favorite flavors. Peanut Butter buttercream, with a chocolate drizzle between.”

“Mmm, sounds tasty.” You hummed, looking at the beautiful and simple enough looking cake, he was attempting. “How far are you?”

“I have one wing done, it’s in the fridge.” He answered, jerking his head in the appliance’s direction. “I just have the last wing and the body to do, then decorating.”

You took a cheeky taste of the buttercream. “Oh god.” You moaned, licking your lips.

“It’s awful, isn’t it?” Sy asked, looking at you, worried. “I knew my ratios were off.” He growled at himself, snapping up the bowl.

“Austin.” You gasped, grabbing for the bowl before he could harm the buttercream inside. “Your ratios are perfect.” You assured him, wedging yourself between him and the counter, stopping him completely. “You made it yourself, from scratch?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, looking down at it.

You cupped his face in your hands. “It’s really good, babe. Don’t you dare toss it. I will not forgive you.” You giggled, kissing him softly.

Sy sighed into the kiss, pressing his forehead against yours. “Thanks, Sugar.”

“Ma!” Ada’s voice called out.

“Christ, she can’t--”

You understood, flying out of the kitchen, stopping your youngest from getting anywhere near the kitchen and her surprise. “Hey, munchkin!” You greeted her, whisking her up into a big hug and twirling her away from the kitchen. “I missed your sweet face today!” You told her, smiling as you heard her giggle.

“I missed you today, Mama.” Ada chuckled, locking her arms around your waist and gazed up at you. “Can you help me with my math? Daddy is being a sneaky bean in the kitchen.”

“He is being a sneaky bean in there. He won’t even tell me what he’s doing. But I’m sure he’ll tell us soon enough, Cricket.” You hummed, stroking her soft curls out of her face. “Til then, let’s go do your homework.” You said, before guiding her towards her room, looking over your shoulder towards the kitchen, seeing Sy pop around the corner, holding up his phone and nodded; understanding.

Finishing Ada’s homework, you checked on your sons, Myles and Colt, finding Myles absorbed in playing Call of Duty and Colt with his nose buried in his latest book. You spent time with them, ensuring their homework was finished and they all stayed out of the kitchen, leaving their father’s secret mission undiscovered.

“Mama, I’m hungry.” Colt whined, coming to stand in Myles’s bedroom door, leveling a look at you as you sat beside Myles, playing Plate Up with him.

“All right, bud.” You replied, eyes still glued to your oldest’s tv as you rushed to serve customers as Myles ran the kitchen. “I’ll order some pizza. How’s that sound? You just come and help your brother keep our Cafe, Sip and Dip, running, while I do that.”

“Can I get extra sausage!” Myles asked, his blue eyes big with hopeful persuasion.

“Yeah, I’ll put it on your half. What do you want on your half, Colt?” You nodded, handing your controller over to him. 

“Just pepperoni, Mama.” He shrugged, sliding into your vacated slot on Myles’s bed.

Nodding, you slipped out into the hall, heading to ask what Ada wanted on her half of a pizza, when your phone chimed with ‘Simple Man’ by Lynyrd Skynyrd, informing you of a text notification.

Sy: I’m finished.

You: Not a moment too soon either! I’ll come down and look in a moment.

You pocketed your phone and popped your head into Ada’s room. “Hey, Cricket. I’m ordering pizza for dinner tonight. What do you want on your half of the pizza?”

“Extra pepperoni!” She declared, looking up from her tablet.

“On the order.” You smiled, then headed to see how Sy’s cake turned out for her. “All right, Bear, let's see!” You called, entering the kitchen and discovering him in the act of cleaning things up.

“Now, before you see it.” Sy warned, loading the dishwasher. “Just remember I did almost all of this by hand, from scratch.”

“I will.” You nodded, grinning at your husband, knowing, no matter how it turned out, Sy had put his heart and soul into this cake for your daughter. And that was the most important ingredient of all. “I’m sure it looks beautiful, Sy. And having had some of the buttercream you made, from scratch,” You said, seeing how covered in flour, batter and frosting his poor phone was, from looking at recipes and photo references. “It’ll taste amazing.”

Sy nodded, his unruly curls falling against his forehead as he moved towards the refrigerator, where he had it stored. “She’s going to hate it.” He gulped, his hand grasping the handle.

“Good lord, man.” You giggled, shaking your head with a smirk, putting your hand over his. “How many deployments? Three kids, that are your spitting image, in every way possible! And you’re frightened by a piece of cake.” You teased him, almost cackling with amusement. “The pin has been pulled on the grenade, Captain Frosting.” You said, pulling open the refrigerator door for him. “The only thing left to do is eat it!”

Inside was a cute and pastel butterfly cake.

An eight-inch round for the body, with the peanut butter buttercream and a chocolate ganache between three layers, for Ada’s obsession with Reese's cups. The wings were made from a twelve-inch round cake that Sy had divided and used each half for one of the wings on either side. All three pieces were carefully, but roughly, covered in pink, white and blue fondant. A valiant effort from a pair of hands hardened with callouses. Sy had done a little piping bag work with a green frosting, creating wobbling little lines along the tops of the cakes, down their sides and bottoms. He had even attempted to make a couple fondant flowers with the fondant he had left, dotting them in a couple places, before deciding he wasn’t very good at them and didn’t make anymore. Finally, for the butterfly’s antennae, he used two strawberry Pocky sticks.

“Well?” Sy rasped behind you, his eyes on the side of your face, studying it for every hint of reaction.

A smile crossed your face and you turned to face him, slipping your arms inside the apron he still had on, feeling the warm, but tense, skin of his sides as you did. “It’s gorgeous, Sy.” You assured him, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of his neck. “She’ll absolutely love it.” You hummed, nuzzling the side of his face.

“You know how I know?”

“How?” He cooed, closing his arms around you.

“Her Daddy made it all for her.” You murmured, kissing the corner of his mouth. “And it is lovely, Austin.” You reaffirmed, brushing your fingers through the back of his hair.

Sy bent his head, his lips brushing your ear. “I left some of the buttercream and ganache, for later.” He purred hotly.

“You naughty baker.” You moaned, licking your lips and letting your mind wander, as Sy’s hands found the slope of your bum.

“Mama! When’s the pizza gonna be here!” Myles shouted from the top of the stairs.

“Right, I’m supposed to be ordering pizza for dinner.”

“What a terrible way to ruin dessert.” Sy laughed, kissing you deeply.

[roses-of-the-romanovs]

I love how even Anya signed this, and how Alexandra signed it as a mother! The only thing missing is Tatiana's signature ...