#trying to get back into the swing of things

[enderlovez]

can you write Spencer Reid and his secret girlfriend that's a nurse/doctor, when the team comes back from a mission and reid is injured they all go to the hospital and they see them two flirting and figure it out

(sorry idk how to phrase it)

also can you tag me when it's out?

Kiss It Better

Spencer Reid x Nurse Reader

WORD COUNT: 1000+

Summary: Spencer gets injured on a case. Imagine his team's surprise when they come to see him and find his nurse flirting with him.

Content Warning: hospitals, Spencer got hurt on a case, probably a whole lot of medical inaccuracies, stitches and needles

────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ──────

Spencer sits on the edge of the hospital bed, his button-up shirt and cardigan draped over the back of a chair, leaving his undershirt rolled up past his elbow. His thighs are parted so you can stand between them, cleaning the small gash on his arm, your gloved fingers brushing over his skin with the gentlest touch.

"You know," you begin, your tone lightly teasing, "for someone with your IQ, you're really bad at stay out of trouble."

Spencer chuckles softly, though his ears turn a shade of pink. "It's not exactly something I plan for," he defends quietly, good arm wrapped loosely around your waist. "Besides, statistically, my injury rate is relatively low for the kind of work I do."

You glance up at him, a brow raised. "Spencer, you've been here three times in the last two months. At this rate, I should really just set up a reserved bed for you."

"Maybe I just like the company," he quips, and now it's your turn to blush slightly.

"Flirting isn't gonna get you out of a lecture about taking better care of yourself," you reply, tying off the final stitch and cutting the rest of the thread off. "There we are. Good as new."

Spencer watches as you peel off your gloves and toss them into the bin. Everything you do seems to catch him off guard, even after months of... well, whatever this thing between you two has become.

"You're amazing, you know that?" he murmurs.

You laugh lightly, shaking your head. "I just stitched up a cut. Pretty sure that doesn't qualify as amazing."

"To me, it does," he counters, his gaze soft as he watches you walk around the room. "You're brilliant and kind and—"

"—And wondering why you're still sitting here," you cut him off with a grin, moving back to your previous spot between his thighs and holding the back of your hand to his forehead. "Don't you have a team to get back to?"

As if on cue, the door swings open, and a group of people spills into the room, their voices a mix of concern and exhaustion.

"Reid, how's—" a man with a shaved head starts, but immediately stops again, his eyes narrowing slightly as they dart between the two of you.

The room grown awkwardly silent as they take in the scene: you standing between Spencer's legs—closer than any medical professional should be with their patients, his unbandaged arm hung loosely around your waist.

"Oh," says a woman with dark hair and a wicked smirk. "This is interesting."

Spencer shifts uncomfortable but doesn't quite move away. "Guys, this is—uh—this is Doctor L/N. She was just... patching me up."

"Patching you up, huh?" the man from before drawls, a teasing lilt in his voice, his grin widening. "Looks like a little more than that to me."

You straighten and take a step back, trying to maintain your professional demeanor despite the heat crawling up your neck. "Doctor Reid is in good shape now. He'll need to keep the stitches dry for a few days, but the cut wasn't too deep."

The blonde woman in the back raises an eyebrow, clearly biting back a smile. "Thank you, Doctor L/N," she says politely before her attention shifts to Spencer. "Though I have to admit, considering his arm got cut open, this is the first time we've seen him quite so... comfortable."

Spencer groans, his head falling slightly forward. "Can we not do this here? Please?"

"Oh, we're doing this," the dark-haired woman says, crossing her arms. "How long has this been going on?"

"Emily," Spencer pleads, his voice laced with something somewhere in-between exasperation and resignation.

You glance between then, suddenly feeling a little like a deer caught in headlights. "I'll just—uh—leave you all to it," you say quickly, stepping toward the door.

Spencer's hand shoots out, his fingers brushing against yours for the briefest moment. "Wait—"

But you shake your head with a small, reassuring smile. "It seems you've got enough explaining to do without me making it harder."

As you slip out and shut the door, you hear the inevitable teasing start.

────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ──────

The hallways is surprisingly quiet compared to the chaos inside, and you take a moment to collect yourself. You've grown used to Spencer's shy smiles and occasional compliments, but seeing him surrounded by his team—people who clearly adore him and who are incredibly perceptive—feels like stepping into a spotlight you hadn't anticipated.

You're about to head back to the nurses' station when the door opens again, and Spencer emerges, wearing all his clothes and his cheeks still faintly red.

"They're never going to let this go," he says, running a hand through his hair.

You bite back a laugh. "I can see why. You should've warned me they'd be so observant."

"I was trying to keep things simple," he admits, stepping closer, "but apparently, we weren't as subtle as I thought."

"Subtle?" you repeat, raising an eyebrow. "You were practically glowing in there, Spencer! You were quite literally holding onto me."

He grins sheepishly. "I can't help it. You make me happy. I like being close to you."

Your heart does a little flip at his words, but you roll your eyes for his benefit. "Well, now that they know, I'm sure the rest of your team will, so I guess our secret's out."

"They'll adjust to the idea," he says lightly. "And for what it's worth, I don't mind them knowing. I'm proud to be with you."

You smile, reaching out to brush your fingertips against his. "I'm proud to be with you, too. Even if it means getting interrogated by the Behavioral Analysis Unit."

Spencer laughs, the sound warm and genuine. "They'll get over it. Probably."

"Probably?" you echo, laughing with him as you start walking back to the nurses' station.

He shrugs, his hand brushing against yours as he keeps pace. "I think Morgan might take longer. But that's okay. I'm not in any hurry."

@priv-rose

[spear-chucker-extraordinaire]

As much as I agree with the sentiment, we have to ask ourselves the question: but does it work?

Because, one way or another, no matter how cool all the swirly moves look, we have to understand that by tying a length of rope to a throwing dagger we haven't so much invented some new, unheard of wunderwaffe, as we have a throwing dagger with a length of rope tied to it.

Now, let us consider the wider ramifications of this breakthrough in weapons development, namely: how do we use this bloody thing

1. We could do acrobatics with it, as shown on the video. This works amazingly well, so long as your opponent happens to be a ceramic pot hanging from a frame.

2. We could throw it, much as one would throw a dagger. The problem with this is, it will be considerably less convenient to throw — and, once thrown, perform worse than a normal dagger — on account of the length of rope we have tied to it.

3. We could use it to stab or slash, again, much in the same way as one would use a dagger. This generally works, but your performance will be diminished by virtue of a length of rope hanging from your hand, getting in the way of fighting

So far, it's looking dangerously like we have created a worse throwing dagger. It can, however, do some things a regular dagger cannot:

4. We could use the length of rope to swing the dagger around, giving it extra range and velocity. This, once again, works extremely well when what you're trying to accomplish is decommissioning some pottery — when faced with an armed opponent, however, there arise a few difficulties which must be considered. For one, this opponent is very likely to get in the way of your swinging. This is good, no? That's what we want. Well, not exactly. To have any significant effect, our weapon has to hit with the actual dagger bit. Hold the rope too short, and you'll swing and miss. Hold it too long, and the dagger will pass by our opponent, the rope will catch onto him, causing the dagger to decelerate rapidly, and either wrap around, doing minimal damage, or lose momentum completely and fall to the ground. Either way, we no longer have a way of swinging the dagger around, as our opponent has now closed in, and presumably stabbed us in the kidney.

This leaves us with

5. Use our brilliant invention as an approximation of a rope sling, that is, swing it around in our hand to build up momentum, and release in the right moment to launch the dagger at our opponent. This has a similar effect as using a sling, but is hamstrung somewhat by the fact we have robbed ourselves of the range advantage of a sling, as well as the fact that our projectile will be handling worse on account of the rope tied to it (see: point 2)

Also, any use of armour by our opponent immediately renders our weapon useless in all the above cases, save the one where we resort to just stabbing the fellow.

In conclusion, what we have on our hands is essentially a nunchuck scenario — where the nunchucks are a stick made worse by cutting it in two and tying it back together with a bit of rope, this is a dagger made worse by tying it to a bit of rope, or, if you're not into that, a sling made worse by tying it to a bit of rope.

Demonstrating the rope dart (繩標; sheng2biao1)

[eng by me]

[cutielando]

game night | l.n.

synopsis: in which game night gets a little too competitive

a/n: based on this request!

my masterlist

As the winter break finally came around, Lando had made plans for him, you, Max and Pietra to take a trip to the mountains, just the four of you.

Which is how you guys found yourselves nestled comfortably in a cabin deep into the Swiss mountains, chatting it up and just enjoying the quiet atmosphere that the off-season provided you with.

But, knowing Lando, he couldn’t stay still for more than an hour at times, and would always find something else to do.

Just like he did now.

“I’m bored” he had announced, groaning and throwing his head back against the couch.

You chuckled, knowing he would have said that sooner or later.

“So?” Max asked, looking up from his phone at his friend.

Lando was silent for a moment, contemplating about how he could cure his sudden found boredom.

“Let’s play a game or something” he suggested, his eyes lighting up.

"Like what?" you asked, your hands running through his curls softly.

He pondered for a moment, his eyes glancing around the cabin living room before his eyes landed on a shelf full of board games.

Not saying anything, he jumped up from his spot on the couch next to you, beelining for the shelf to analyze what he was working with.

"Let's play Monopoly" he said, his eyes twinkling as he took the box in his hands and rushing back to sit down next to you.

You, Max and P all groaned in unison, the last thing either of you wanted was to play Monopoly with Lando.

Lando stopped in his tracks, looking at the three of you with wide eyes.

"What?" he asked, his shoulders deflating.

"Mate, you know how you get whenever we play Monopoly" Max said, glaring at him.

He pouted, looking at you for support.

You bit your lip and shrugged, making him gasp.

"You too?" he asked, looking at you with a hand over his heart.

"Baby, I love you, but you know how competitive you get whenever we play" you said, trying to be as gentle and nice as possible.

"But I want to play..." he said, pouting and looking at the ground.

You sighed, shaking your head as you exchanged looks with Max. Both of you knew Lando was playing the both of you, wanting to make you feel bad for not wanting to let him play.

Max sighed, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Fine, we'll play" he muttered, making Lando erupt into a wide smile as he sprinted towards the coffee table to lay everything out.

You laughed at his antics, shaking your head fondly.

"I wanna team up with P" you called out as she took your hand.

Lando whipped his head around, staring at you with betrayal written all over his face.

"What? Why? We always team up together" he said, his eyes sad.

He almost made you change your mind, but flashbacks of past game nights with Lando made you stand firm.

"That's exactly why we should change things up a little bit" you argued, trying to keep his spirits up.

He pouted, glaring at you while setting up the board. He kept it up for a minute or two longer before he sighed and nodded.

"Fine, but just this time" he said, pointing to you.

You nodded and leaned over to kiss his lips quickly before you got and moved so you were sitting next to Pietra.

Lando huffed once again before he finally let go of his anger and instead focus on "discussing strategies" with Max.

As the night went on and the game was in full swing, Lando's competitive side slowly started to show itself when Max landed on one of your properties and had to pay you almost all the money they had.

"MAX! What the fuck, mate? You just walked right into their trap!" Lando shouted, pushing Max as he stared at him with wide eyes.

“I can’t control the fucking dice, now, can I?” Max argued back.

You and P, on the other hand, were trying not to laugh, finding the exchange between them too funny.

They continued to bicker like this until late into the night before you called it quits on the game.

Instead, you were now snuggled up on the couch with Lando, the fireplace doing a fantastic job of warming you up.

The world around you was silent, the only sound echoing through the warm cabin being the crackle of the fireplace.

Lando was staring at the crackling fire, his hand playing with the ends of your hair.

Looking down at you, he noticed that your eyes were shut, your breathing evened out as you peacefully slept on him.

Smiling a little, he pressed a soft and gentle kiss on your forehead, whispering a quiet "I love you" as he let himself succumb to a peaceful sleep.

Dreaming of you.

...and beating you at Monopoly.

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[captain-huggy-bear]

'You're blushing.'

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader (Crush level)

Warnings: Reader is described as visibly blushing (normally i'd avoid it, but for this idea I kinda had to, sorry!)

Summary: You're friends with Jack and Luke first, they decide to tease you good naturedly about your reaction to their older brother, Quinn.

Notes: I feel like Jack and Luke as friends would really work together to tease you, just very good natured but finding it hilarious. Basically acting like your annoying brothers.

An NHL charity event isn't something that 2 years ago you would have thought you'd ever be at, but then 2 years ago you didn't forsee yourself becoming friends with Jack and Luke Hughes, two pro-hockey players, after taking your students to meet the New Jersey Devils on a school trip.

Everyone who was anyone in the NHL was present, players from across the teams from both Canada and the US, coaches, WAGs and then you, because Jack and Luke refused to leave you behind in case you got bored without them. Their words, not yours. You couldn't even use work as an excuse because school holidays were in full swing.

So, here you found yourself, clutching a glass of something expensive, but awful tasting, that you quickly deposite on a side table the moment no one is looking, wearing your best dress (the one that never came out of your closet and had needed a really good steam to get the wrinkles out) and oogling their attractive older brother from across the room. The big brother you've had a crush on for at least a year...despite having met him a total of 5 times.

It wasn't your fault, really. Jack and Luke were pretty, so very pretty, but a little too young for you and treated you like an annoying sister, Quinn however? He was the right age, the right height, had the right hair and the few times you'd interacted had made you feel like a girl and not one of the guys. He was easy on the eyes and from the time you'd spent around him a genuinely nice guy, the type of person that having a crush on was easy. Especially, when you were rarely around him and didn't need to confront said feelings.

It's stupid though, a crush? In your mid-20s? It feels like something you should have grown out of, but apparently not. You think you've managed a good job at hiding it though, hiding the way your ears perk up whenever Jack or Luke mention Quinn, hiding the fact you watch every Canucks game even if you have to catch up late after work kicks out, marking piled high in front of you.

Across the room you watch as Jack and Luke hug their brother in greeting, big smiles wide on all three faces. They're all wearing their best suits, hair neatly trimmed, a shame...as you're rather fond of Quinn's longer hair, but he's still handsome either way.

Luke must mention you as he gestures in your direction and Quinn turns to look at you, smiling wide in your direction. You're not expecting it, certain you resemble a deer in headlights.

His wide smile does funny things to your heart and it's only made worse when he starts walking in your direction, Luke and Jack trailing behind, you're almost certain your heart is about to stop in your chest.

He stops just shy of you, looking like some sort of daydream and you're certain that you're not hiding your crush very well in that moment. Suddenly, you feel 10 years old again.

"Hey, long time no see," Quinn doesn't hesitate before wrapping his arms around you and pressing a kiss to your cheek that has your face feeling incredibly warm. He pulls back, eyes giving you a slow once over from your head to your uncomfortable heels, "You look beautiful." There's a crinkle at his eyes that screams sincerity, that, combined with his soft smile only has you swallowing harder and trying to ignore the raised eyebrows of Jack and Luke over his shoulders.

"T.." You cough the lump from your throat, "Thank you, Quinn, it's nice to see you again"

It's not long before he's called away, once more pressing a kiss to your cheek on his way and you know you're beet red in the face without even looking at Jack or Luke. Their matching grins only confirm it and you internally groan when Jack throws an arm around your shoulders, smirking down at you.

“You’re blushing.”

"Shut up." You grind out, shoving his arm off your shoulder and crossing your arms even as your eyes continue to track Quinn across the room.

"You're seriously blushing because of Quinn?" Luke takes up the otherside of you grinning over the top of your head at his brother, even as Jack keeps digging at the topic. If your face was red before, you know it's probably bright enough to be seen from space now.

"Jack, in the name of all that is holy, if you do not shut the fuck up right now I am going to tell tiktok about that time that you tried to jump into my arms because of a mouse." You poke a harsh finger into his chest, but your threat seems to make very little impact, your friend just continues to grin at you like you've made his night.

"But, seriously? Quinn? Like, i'm right here,"

"You are a baby." You roll your eyes, turning back to find Quinn staring at the three of you from across the room. He's got the sort amused look that tells you he'll be asking his brothers all about this later, curious as to what had you make that face at Jack.

"I'm not that much younger than you!"

"Still a baby." You laugh simply because you all know Jack's joking. He's never once wanted to date you and you're fine with that. Your dynamic with the two younger Hughes brothers has always been entirely platonic and you like it that way.

"Does that mean I don't get a shot at all?" Luke chims in from besides you, arms slumped at his side in mock sadness that has you wrapping an arm around his waist to give him a side hug.

"Lukey, I love you, you get a shot just for being you." You grin up at him as Luke smugly waggles his eyebrows at his brother. It's all completely ridiculous and it reminds you that even when they're winding you up, you do in fact love the two of them.

"Oh, c'mon!" Jack's jaw drops like you've just told him that his first born child is the uglist child you've ever seen or something equally as offensive. From the corner of your eye, you can see that Quinn is still watching the three of you even as he talks to a group of journalists. It makes you nervous, hoping that he hasn't developed a talent for lip reading.

"Why are we even having this discussion? Neither of you want to date me and I don't want to date either of you! We firmly established that we're all in the friendzone here."

"It's the principle okay? I am the pretty one and you go for Quinn?"

You're quiet for a moment, eyes on your feet before you mumble out a quick, "I like his hair."

"I have good hair too." You roll your eyes at his retort, "So do I!" Luke ruffles his curls to show them off.

"I like his beard." That bit of scruff he always seems to grow as the season continues, the sort you're sure would scratch deliciously against your skin if he kissed you. Quinn gave off strong romantic book lead vibes with that sort of facial hair going on, a lumberjack or cowboy who saves the leading lady from hyperthermia or a bear or something.

"Okay...I'm...i'm working on that, give me some time, Jesus, woman!" You know he's only playing, but you also know Jack's genuinely curious as to when and how you developed a crush on his older brother. It's not like you'd ever expressed your interest in their brother before, not even suggesting he was cute in a passing comment.

"Look, I just...I think he's handsome that's all..." It's most certainly not all, but you're not about to wax poetic about their brother and give them more ammunition to tease you with than they already have.

"Well, if you're not marrying me or Luke, I guess the only way to add you to the family is to get Quinn to fall hoplessly in love with you." Jack claps his hands together, nodding his head like he's just come up with some sort of business proposal that benefits all parties rather than suggesting you marry his brother.

Luke looks over at Jack, nodding along with a little smirk, "I think we can manage that."

"Oh, definitely, Lukey Boy." Between them it's like looking at a pair of mischievious and naughty school boys.

"Please don't meddle, please leave it alone! I get crushes all the time, I really do not need you embarrassing me! We're adults, this is not the school playground!" You're practically begging them to leave it alone, mind already conjuring up a million and one ways in which they could embarrass you.

You're so focused on them that you don't see Quinn making his way over until he speaks from over your shoulder. He's eyeing his brothers like they might set off a stink bomb, arms crossed over his chest that only serves to make him look even broader than he already does in that jacket.

"Why do you two look like you're about to cause some trouble?"

"Us?" Jack starts, pointing at himself and then to Luke, wide innocent eyes fooling absolutely no one.

"Trouble?" Luke continues, a hand over his heart like Quinn had insulted his honour by suggesting such a thing.

"Quinny, would we ever do such a thing?"

There's a moment of silence before Quinn looks them both dead in the eyes and gives a confident, "Yeah."

Quinn turns to you, face softening into a look that screams that he's concerned his brothers are being dicks to you, it's pleasant and sweet and makes you feel warm inside, "You alright? These two idiots bothering you?" Both idiots shout a quick 'hey!' but your attention is solely focused on Quinn and the way his hair falls across his forehead when he tilts his head to look at you.

"Yes!" He chuckles at your insistant reply, hand reaching out to offer itself to you, "C'mere then," you grasp it without question and follow him off to the dance floor. Not thinking twice until you find yourself wrapped up in a slow dance with a guy you can barely look at without blushing. Feeling in over your head in the best sort of way.

From the corner of the room Jack turns to his younger brother with a smile, as they watch the you and Quinn inch closer and closer together on the dance floor. Your head eventually coming to rest on his shoulder as you sway back and forth.

"Y'know what, Lukey? Maybe we don't have to meddle at all..."

[ssahotchnerr]

pleasepleaseplease, if you're willing ofc 🫶, can we get a little something where jack is trying his absolute hardest to get hotch and r together during the christmas season?! (i can only imagine the romcom chaos and deliciousness that'll involve haha!) 🙏❤️🎄

mistletoe mischief

the dream!!!!! & jack receives some assistance from morgan also :) cw; bau fem!reader, mutual pining, mentions of food, typical cm case talk, bau family banter, feelings realized (with some making out <3), fluff 🤭 wc; 1.5k

It had become tradition for everyone to go to Dave's house for Christmas Eve. And that meant everyone - the team, the kids, partners. The more the merrier.

It was a time to enjoy each other's company, laugh, exchange gifts and indulge in delicious food and treats. It was a nice reprieve from the hectic stress that the holidays brought, and everyone was happy to have it.

Whereas Jack had a different approach to the night. He had decided, that tonight would be the night you and his dad got together. He would make sure of it.

Only, it wasn't as easy as he thought.

All night Jack's done what he could, in hopes of initiating something between the two of you. Dinner was easy, he had sweetly asked you to switch seats with him - how could you have possibly said no? He persuaded his father to team up with you for the 'reindeer games', like holiday bingo, or unscrambling Christmas songs. That had been a small victory; Aaron giving you a celebratory hug when you were the first to call bingo.

But it still wasn't what he hoped. Things like that worked at school, if someone had a crush on another - they sat together in the cafeteria, they teamed up as partners in class, they played together at recess. (Sadly it was snowing outside, and Uncle Dave didn't have a swing set.)

Defeated, Jack found himself slouching on the couch, pouting alone.

Morgan had been the first to notice his minor sulking, making his way over. "What's on your mind big man?"

"Nothing." He mumbled under his breath, picking at the cookies on the plate you had put together for him.

"Nothing? For someone Santa's visiting tonight, you don't look very excited." He sat down, giving Jack's shoulder a pat, an invitation to open up. "Wanna tell me what's up?"

Jack kept his eyes on his treats, toying with the idea of sharing before sighing, asking if Dad liked you. Like really, liked you.

Derek's lips pursed. His expression changed to one of uncertainty, mulling over the situation.

"That's the million dollar question right there. We think so," Derek confessed, thinking back to all the times where you and Aaron seemed much too comfortable. The constant, lingering stares. Aaron going soft on you at times. The fear in your eyes when Hotch had encountered an unsub at gunpoint. This had occurred recently, and afterwards when Hotch was deemed safe and sound, you had refused to leave his side altogether.

"What have you seen? I'm sure you know what's going on more than the rest of us."

Jack nodded, perking up slightly at his uncle's vague admittance. His lips pulled into a smile, "Well, she is over a lot."

Derek grinned, his head tilting to the side. "Really."

"Yeah," Jack took a bite of his cookie. "We have a lot of fun. She brings over pizza for movie night every Friday if she and Dad aren't working. Cheese for me. Pepperoni and sausage for her and Dad."

"They share, huh?"

"And then Dad spent a lot of time picking out her Christmas present. But they haven't kissed." Jack sighed frustratedly, an innocent confusion on his face. "That's what grown ups do when they love each other, right?"

"It is pretty standard," Derek affirmed, amused himself at the confirmation something was, in fact, going on. It's only been driving the team crazy for weeks.

He, as well as the others, have confronted you about it numerous times, knowing that if they went to Hotch instead, he would confess nothing. But you reacted similarly. A shrug and a "just friends" before switching to a different topic.

"I tried all night too." Jack's bottom lip protruded in a pout once more. "But nothing works."

"Well..." A smile formed on Derek's face. "Maybe you just need a little extra help."

-

"Rally up the troops." Penelope clapped at you, to which you snorted an airy laugh through your nose. "Don't just sit there. I have been shopping since Halloween and I've masterly selected each and every gift and I have been itching to see all your reactions. I almost gave you yours two weeks ago."

"Okay, okay," You surrendered, throwing your hands up. You knew better than to face Penelope's driven wrath.

"You better," Her expression was sharp, pointing a warning finger at you. She hurried away as another laugh escaped you, while you also opted to take one more drink.

As she left the room, Jack entered.

"Hey Jackers," Your face brightened at the sight of him, putting your drink aside. "I heard it's almost time for presents." You raised your eyebrows, a soft smile on your face. "You excited?"

Jack nodded, a glint in his eyes. It was rather mischievous, similar to the one he gave Aaron when he wanted to delay going to bed early, only much more so. "Can you help me with something first?"

"Of course I can," You agreed within a split second's notice. Jack grabbed your hand and led you away just as fast. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah."

He led you towards Dave's foyer. It was dimly lit, shoes scattered amongst the welcome mat. God forbid someone stained Dave's carpeting.

Aaron and Morgan were just coming back inside; Aaron looked a bit agitated, per usual, while Derek was sporting his famous, cheeky grin.

" - I don't know why you would say that." Aaron continued, tossing an annoyed look over his shoulder to Morgan. As his gaze returned forward, and made eye contact with you, the softness in his face returned instantly.

"Is everything okay?" You wondered, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as you and Jack came to a stop.

"Morgan said my car alarm was going off." Aaron shoved his keys back into his pocket, leaving Morgan's side and favoring yours. "And evidently lied."

"Lied?" A laugh escaped you, perplexedly looking at Morgan, seeking an explanation as well.

"My bad." He waved it off, giving Jack a wink. That was suspicious, but he switched topics before anything could be said. "Oh, would you look at that."

His hand raised, his index finger pointing upwards, directing right between you and Aaron. Both your gazes followed.

Mistletoe.

Oh.

Your eyes shot to Derek's, wide and surprised. In contrast, Aaron's face remained neutral, but a deep blush was growing on his cheeks, as well tinting his ears.

"Well, we'll leave you two to it." He left it at that, shrugging nonchalantly before gesturing Jack away.

"What... Jack?" You started, turning around. "I thought you needed..."

The two of them were gone before you could finish your sentence. However, you did view the tail end of Derek giving Jack a high five.

So, they had been in cahoots. You scoffed a laugh, shaking your head.

Now alone, your eyes connected with Aaron's, who was standing there rather anxiously. Naturally, there was a touch of tension in the air, but it wasn't awkward by any means. A mutual excitement, as well as relief. An electricity.

Aaron hadn't been anxious, but buzzing with anticipation.

You've been wanting to kiss him. He's been yearning to kiss you. The time had just never been right, nor had it the perfect moment. In addition, there was always the fear of rejection.

And suddenly you felt like an idiot for even contemplating such, because from the longing you noticed within his pupils, you've always been on the same page.

Aaron chucked, stating the obvious and peering back up at the mistletoe. "I think we were set up."

"You don't say." You quipped in response, a nervous laugh escaping you. Oh my god was repeatedly circling in your head. You shifted your weight from one foot to another. There was so much you wanted to say, having gone through the potential conversation in your mind more times than you could count. But now, as the opportunity finally presented itself - nothing.

Aaron on the other hand, simply decided to show you.

He wasted no time - his confidence was quite literally the hottest thing you could fathom. All in one smooth motion, his hand cupped your cheek and he placed his lips firmly onto yours.

A spark of energy rushed through you, the both of you in fact. Every nerve in your body was suddenly alive and heightened. Your fingers clutched onto the sides of his shirt, reciprocating the passion.

Aaron's kiss was gentle, his fingertips rough but incredibly soft where they rest against your skin. It made sense, it mirrored him perfectly. A hard exterior, but tender underneath.

And longing to be even closer, Aaron shoved you lightly against the wall, slotting a leg between your thighs. That way, he could lose himself more into you, and you could fully succumb to him.

Your head was fuzzy, feeling lightheaded in the best way possible as your heart fluttered in your chest. Now that Aaron had kissed you, you were done for. From now on, you refused to go each day without receiving another. You couldn't.

"We're missing presents." You teased once the two of you pulled away for air, cheeks flushed. And immediately missing his contact, your lips easily found their way back to his. You could feel his smile, a happy sigh leaving him.

"They can wait."

[kaitwrites]

Christmas time with bf!SKZ

Genre: fluff, a bit suggestive at times, mdni

A/n: trying to get back into the swing of things, hopefully some random texts with individual members will be around soon, I figured out how the old app I used works now so I’m not dreading using memi anymore. Love you all and happy whatever you celebrate 🫶🏼

Hyung line | Maknae line

[thydungeongal]

Many D&D 5e DMs ignore the game's own suggested structure of having multiple encounters per adventuring day, and while they aren't entirely wrong to do so (the suggested number of encounters per adventuring day doesn't quite line up with the actual math of the game nor does it produce enjoyable gameplay for those who don't enjoy D&D's combat, i.e. the part that D&D is the most about so you know what are we even doing here). Instead they focus their attention on trying to run only a single, narratively satisfying combat encounter. Which often works against itself because you will find yourself hard-pressed to get a dramatic combat out of a single battle in D&D 5e when player characters will be going into battle at full resources.

Because in most cases D&D's resource management is really at its best when it's not about managing resources within a single encounter but over multiple encounters. If you can expect only one encounter per adventuring day "should the wizard cast fireball now or save it for later" really isn't a relevant question in most encounters. In most cases the answer is "cast it now because the more enemies are dead by the end of this round the fewer attacks the party will have to potentially suffer next round."

And it often ends up eliminating all tension as well. If characters can count on having all their resources available for their one combat encounter of the day then they can pretty much rest assured that they will have enough healing and damage at their disposal to eliminate the enemy. The GM can hope to alleviate this by adding enemies that can take out party members quickly, but it is a risky proposition in many ways: the dice can swing one way and eliminate a player character before the group has a chance to react at all, which isn't exactly a failure on the party's part, it's just dumb luck (now, dumb luck is sometimes a valid way to introduce tension, but in the context of an encounter that is supposed to feel dramatic a character being taken out during the first turn before there is any input on the player's part can feel anticlimactic). Characters have very limited resources available to them to actually actively mitigate damage. Most of the time if a character loses initiative they are at the mercy of the enemy, being entirely reliant on the enemy rolling low on their attack/them rolling high on their saving throw. Some characters have reactive defenses available to them, but that's the thing: only some of them.

On the other hand things swinging the other way and an enemy having a single bad round during which they fail to deal meaningful damage to the party can conversely begin a death spiral for the enemy, where characters will be able to reserve resources that would normally be spent fighting back against enemy assaults on simply focusing on damage.

Of course this hasn't always been the case in D&D: the conventional wisdom in older editions was that player characters would have to delve into dungeons on limited resources and conserve those resources throughout the adventuring day. And this basically is how 5e is supposed to be run: but for a variety of reasons it also runs against the idea of combat being dramatic. If most combats during an adventuring day are just obstacles to be overcome, it eventually does make combat feel routine. Which, you know, somewhat also undermines the idea that combat is supposed to be dramatic.

But also, on a per encounter level, there was a brief moment in a bygone age known as "fourth edition" when player characters regardless of class had meaningful decisions to make within an encounter: compared to 5th edition, daily abilities were at a premium, which makes sense, because in 5th edition the assumption is that characters will have more daily resources they must juggle throughout a long adventuring day. 4e does also assume multiple encounters between long rests, but its adventuring days are noticeably shorter. Furthermore, healing is a finite resource in 4e on both a day-by-day and an encounter level. Characters can take a second wind action once per combat to spend a healing surge to recover some hit points, after which they are reliant the party's leaders (whose standard healing abilities are limited to two uses per combat. Scary!). And while 4e combats could also get swingy, the numbers were usually set up in such a way that a single swingy round would usually not take a player character from 100 to 0 percent. Like in 5e, most characters lacked reactive defenses, but they usually still had time to act before they were dropped.

But even 4e didn't fix one issue of D&D combat: that it often lacks permanent consequence beyond just "your character is dead." This is of course not an issue for the type of play that D&D natively supports and there are exceptions to this rule in the form of some creatures that can inflict other consequences on characters, but due to the abstract nature of D&D's combat the outcomes of combat are usually "my character fell to 0 hit points and died" or "my character dropped the enemy to 0 hit points and they died."

Speaking of those alternate consequences, an encounter with a basilisk that turns a party member into stone isn't necessarily fun as a dramatic combat encounter because it simply takes out one party member from the action, meaning they don't get to enjoy the afterglow of having defeated the enemy. Or if they do it's because a party member could cast a spell that undoes the petrification which is like. Oh, the character was only dead temporarily. You know what genre of play temporary death as a minor setback works really well in? Dungeon crawling. It also ties nearly into the logistical side of the game.

Anyway, point being, there are multiple contradictory design issues inherent to the very idea of combat and how it should be handled in tabletop RPGs and not a single correct answer. But D&D does not natively support a model of a single dramatic encounter per day, because that runs against the game of resource management and attrition inherent to it. D&D's combat can often lack tension on a per-encounter basis, but that tension arises are the very latest once characters need to start conserving their resources.

Or idk.

[javierduffy]

sketchbook sillies

[cosmicpearlz]

christmas wishes and kisses

summary: he was determined to confess tonight. preferably under the mistletoe, but the universe had other plans.

pairing: jude bellingham x reader

jude can count on both hands, how many times he's lost y/n in the crowd. one too many times for his liking. the annual christmas party that vini threw was in full swing. from member of real madrid being there to other celebrities and friends. but all jude wanted was alone time with y/n. something he couldn't get for the life of him tonight.

"you find her yet?" jobe clasps his hand onto jude's shoulder. the older boy sighs and shakes his head.

"no! i haven't seen her since she was talking to luka's wife."

"you had a whole plan though, right?”

"yes, i was supposed to bring her to one of the spare rooms that vini has and when we stand under the door, the mistletoe is gonna be there. then, i was planning on telling her how i felt."

"well don't give up now brother. there's still time."

-

you were nursing your second drink. originally coming to the party just to see jude. possibly hangout with him. and who knows, maybe even score a kiss or two. you've always liked the boy ever since you met him. remembering the way you guys became quick friends after he accidentally hit you with the door that he was walking out of. Jude refused to leave your side, 'in case something happens', is what he kept saying.

"livie, have you seen jude?" you yell over the loud music. your best friend shakes her head.

"no, i haven't. i did hear that he's looking for you too!" your heart skipped a beat.

"i'll just continue my search for him. if you see him before I do, let him know that I'm looking for him please."

"sure thing babes," olivia squeezes your shoulder and nods. you place your hand on hers, giving a light squeeze back before making your way around the house again. this time heading towards the kitchen area.

-

moving through bodies started to become exhausting. jude was starting to give up. the boy can't remember how many people he's ran to anymore, but he knew that it wasn't the person he wanted to see. heading to the kitchen with his head down, he bumps into another body.

"sorry," jude mutters, still not looking up from the ground.

"we've gotta stop meeting like this." the boy's head perks up, hearing the familiar voice. the one person he's wanted to be alone with the entire night.

"sorry y/n. i didn't see you there."

"yeah, too busy looking at the ground. heard you were looking for me though," you smiled brightly at the boy.

"can i show you something?" jude blurred out before he could think twice. the night had been long enough, and this conversation was long over due.

"lead the way, golden boy."

jude grabs your hand, leading upstairs. vini had sectioned that part of the house off. the music becoming slightly muffed. it was perfect and away from the crowd.

"what's going on jude?" you asked, as he stopped in front of a door. you gazed at him with confusion in your eyes.

"y/n, i don't regret hitting you with that door when we first met."

"hey! that's rude," you jokingly pushed his shoulder.

"what i mean is that i'm grateful to have you in my life. you're the best person to be around and i want to soak up every moment with you, just to bottle in it a jar and keep it forever. there aren't enough words to describe how you make me feel," jude grabs both of your hands and holds them gently in his.

"what i'm about to say may ruin our friendship. but i must put it out there. i really like you." you giggled and squeezed his hands softly.

"i really like you too. i'm so glad you said that!"

"no y/n, i like you. as in like like you."

"jude are we in middle school? i really like you too is what i'm trying to tell you!"

"ohh."

"yeah, ohh," you playfully mocked him, still sporting a small smile. jude begins to smile and looks towards to the celling. you follow his eyes. finding mistletoe hanging on the doorway.

"did you plan this?"

"maybe. do you like it?"

"it's corny." jude becomes bashful and looks down. almost pulling his hands from yours, before you tighten the grip you had on his.

"that doesn't mean i don't like it. i think you're very sweet and romantic. confessing your feelings for me under the mistletoe."

"can i kiss you?"

"i've only been waiting for a couple of months now," you grin up at him. the boy matches your grin, pulling you into a kiss. certainly, this was long overdue, but it was completely worth the wait.

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

My Favorite Thing

Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: Your comfort item gets lost on a hunt, and the boys try to help you

“Stop the car!”

Dean slammed on the breaks, turning the Impala to the side of the road before whipping around in his seat to see what was wrong.

“What happened? Are you hurt? What’s wrong?”

“I can’t find Willow!” You exclaimed. “We have to go back to the motel!”

“Jeez, kid.” Dean let out a huge sigh of relief. “I thought you were dying or something. Don’t scare me like that!”

“We have to go back, it’s an emergency!”

“Kid, your little toy thing is not an emergency,” Dean said.

“Are you sure you didn’t just leave it in your other bag?” Sam asked.

“Yes I’m sure, I always put it right here, and it’s gone!”

“It can’t be at the motel,” Dean argued. “I remember you had it right before we went after that vamp. You must’ve lost it on the hunt.”

“Well then we have to go find it. Please, Dean,” you begged.

Dean sighed, swinging the Impala into a u-turn. “Let’s see if we can find it.”

…

Two hours later, and still no luck.

“Kiddo, we’ve gotta get going,” Dean spoke up reluctantly. “There’s a case in the next state over and we really should try to get there before dark—“

“We can’t just give up!” You cried.

“We looked everywhere honey,” Sam cut in. “There’s nothing else we can do. Maybe we can find you another—“

“No, no you can’t just find another one!” You yelled. “You don’t get it, you don’t even care!” You were racing away from the boys before either of them had a chance to respond.

“What was that?” Dean demanded.

“I don’t know,” Sam sighed. “But she was headed toward the Impala. Let’s go.”

…

“Hey sweetheart.” Dean’s greeting did nothing to pull you out from the way you’d cocooned yourself in the Impala’s backseat.

Sam eased the door open and slid in next to you, patting your knee that was curled up against your chest.

“N/N, talk to us. You ok?”

“Dad gave it to me.” Your voice came out in a high-pitched whimper. “And I lost it.”

“Oh kid…” Dean climbed into the front of the Impala, reaching over the back of the seat and tilting your chin up. “Dad would understand, ok? It’s ok.”

“No it’s not!” You sniffled. “You have the Impala, and Sam has dad’s journal…I don’t have anything of his. I wanted to at least keep something he gave me.”

Dean suddenly slipped out of the Impala, but you didn’t have time to notice it because Sam spoke up.

“Honey, it’s not about the stuff he left behind. He taught you so much that you’re gonna carry with you, and you don’t need a toy to remember that.”

“I…I guess,” you sniffled. “But I wanted it.”

“Commere…” Sam pulled you into his arms, planting a kiss on the top of your head. “I’m sorry we couldn’t find it. I know that meant a lot to you.”

“Here it is—“ Dean’s voice caught your attention as he returned, holding a bundle that he’d retrieved from the trunk. “I think dad would want you to have this.” Dean pressed the fabric into your hands, and you held it up to reveal John Winchester’s favorite jacket.

“It’s never gonna fit,” you argued dubiously.

“Who cares?” Dean shrugged. “I heard jackets six sizes too big are the trend now.”

You giggled through your tears as you slipped your arms through the massive sleeves. The sleeves hung down several inches past your fingers, but you didn’t seem to mind as you hugged the fabric around you.

“Thanks, Dean,” you said.

Dean grinned.

“Any time, kid.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee @987coley @deadlymistletoe @wayward-impala83 @whump-loverz @johannelis2302nely @studiogrimm810

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Eddie Munson's royal wedding

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 21

Prompt: Formal

Rated: M

Tags: Modern AU; Rock star Eddie; Royal Steve; Established relationship; Sexually explicit language

Notes: Previous part | Part 1

“Okay,” Eddie says. The crowd outside the toned windows of the limousine has been getting thicker, which means they must be there soon. “Lemme get this straight again.” 

Steve, seated opposite him and looking both stupidly at ease and infuriatingly handsome in his tailored suit, chuckles.

“You’re talking about your tie, right? Because you’ve been tugging on it again.” 

Eddie groans and attempts to right the dreaded thing. It feels like trying to strangle himself. 

“Very funny, you asshole,” he grouses, but Steve doesn’t rise to the insult, just continues to observe his struggle with fond amusement. “I'm talking about this wedding. Why do we need to- … I mean, how are you related to these people again?” 

“Here, let me,” Steve mutters, leaning over and swatting Eddie’s hands away so that he can straighten the tie for him. “You know my cousin?” 

“Yeah,” Eddie says. “The Duchess of What’s Her Face. Met her at a fundraiser once. Major bitch, please don’t tell me it's her getting married.” 

“No, that’s my father’s niece,” Steve laughs, markedly not correcting him on the major bitch part. “This is my mother’s side of the family.” 

“Ah, the banker and entrepreneur side,” Eddie says. He tries to fiddle with his rings, but they’ve made him leave most of them at home. “Much better.”

“Hey,” Steve says. “Try to look at it from the positive side. You won’t have to remember any titles. There'll probably also be less cameras.” 

Silence drops. The car slows down as they pass another security checkpoint. 

“Hey,” Steve says. His hands settle on Eddie’s shoulders, featherlight and familiar. “Hey, look at me.” 

Eddie does. 

“You don't have to do this,” Steve says. His eyes are serious, his brow furrowed. “I can get out of this car alone and tell the driver to bring you home, and nobody will need to see you like this.” 

“Wow,” Eddie scoffs. “You can tell you've been trained in diplomacy. That's the nicest way anyone has ever told me I looked like shit.” 

Steve drops a chaste kiss to his lips, just as the car stops. “I never said that. I know it's not your favorite type of event, though. Or your favorite type of people. I don't ever want to force you into-” 

“Hey,” Eddie interrupts him. “You're not forcing me. I chose this. I chose you. And for the record, I know I look fantastic in this thing.” 

Steve hums, a low sound that settles heavy in Eddie’s abdomen. The driver’s door shuts and steps approach. An excited chorus of voices swells outside. The goddamn press, eager to catch a photo of him making a complete ass of himself on his first royal engagement. 

“You know when you'll look even better?” 

Eddie flinches back to attention. “Huh?” 

The door swings open. A storm of flashing cameras breaks loose.

Steve smiles, bright and professional. His voice is so low Eddie needs to strain to catch it. 

“When we get back to the hotel and I take it off you.” 

*

“There he is!”

Eddie turns to see the bride swooshing towards him in a flurry of white skirts, her new husband trailing on her heel like an eager puppy. He casts a nervous glance over his left shoulder, then one over his right, but Steve is nowhere to be seen. 

“Eddie Munson,” the bride says, coming to a stop in front of him and taking a generous sip of her champagne. “The rock star who bagged the crown prince. Every eligible person in this room either wants to be you or kill you, you know that?” 

“Yeah well,” Eddie says, taking in the mean curl of her mouth and the sharp glint in her eyes. “Good thing you're not eligible anymore, I guess.”

Her face twitches and her hand grips the glass a little tighter. 

“Carol,” says her husband, smile sharp. “Don't tease him. He must have it hard enough. The backlash from his fans, the media claiming that this is just a rebellious phase Steve is going to grow out of soon. I imagine it can't be easy.” 

“Ah, you know how the press are,” Eddie says. “Better not to listen to them. Steve and I are in this for the long haul. We're planning on making it work.” 

The bride quirks a brow. “Well, good luck with making that white dress work at your wedding.” 

And Eddie wanted to behave, he really did, but what can he do when served a cue like this?

“Bold to assume I'll be the one wearing the dress.” 

Silence drops. The bride and groom gape at him. A scandalized murmur runs through the assembled bystanders, and fuck, when did they gain an audience?

“Um,” Eddie says. “Listen, that was-”

“There you are!” Steve exclaims, materializing out of nowhere and taking him gently by the shoulder. “Tommy, Carol, I'm so sorry, but we need to get going. Early start tomorrow, you know how it is. Beautiful wedding, congrats again.” 

And then Eddie’s being pulled out the doors and into the venue's lush garden, past a crowd of gawking wedding guests. 

“I can't believe you said that.” 

Eddie is already drawing a breath to apologize, but then it dawns on him that it's not rage that's making Steve’s voice shake. It's laughter. Steve's hand, against all rules of propriety and protocol, has slipped into his. 

“Told you I'd be a disaster at this,” he shrugs, and Steve snorts. 

“Ah, they deserved it. We can deal with the fallout tomorrow.” 

“Oh?” Eddie smirks as the limousine rolls to a stop before them and the driver jumps out to open the door for them. “Is this the part where you take me to the hotel and-”

“Oh no,” Steve says, and pulls him inside. His eyes are sparkling. “Change of plans. You're fucking me in the car.” 

And who's Eddie to disregard a royal order? 

More holiday drabbles

[notroosterbradshaw]

dying to know how reader reacted to finding out she was pregnant in the boyfriend experience uni 😫 likeeee ik she wasn’t ready for kids in uncle brooster but bradley was so were there mixed feelings abt it? especially since there was no telling when he’d be deployed again

Hi nonny, I don’t know where you are in the cosmos. But this is for you x

A/N I forgot I had this. I don't have the time this close to Xmas/at all to proof/improve so for those of you still in the TGM, I hope you enjoy and merry merry, happy happy xx

“Roll the dice,” you reiterate to Bradley. “If we get pregnant, great. If we don’t…”

“It’s you and me and we are great with that,” Bradley answered, the faintest glint of hope in his shining honey eyes.

You knew he was on Team Baby. He wasn't pressing it; he couldn’t. That wasn’t fair to you… to him or anyone else. You’d said your piece well before you got engaged, and well before today.

The day you married him.

But in the back of the afterglow of lovemaking as husband and wife, you’d told him you’d go off birth control after your honeymoon if he still wanted to try for a baby. You didn’t want it to be immediate, you wanted to enjoy being married and the fun that came with it. And Bradley agreed. You didn’t want to be thinking about periods and not drinking and having the time of your lives. Bradley was busier with work now than ever before, and with the work extensions complete, new staffing, and more small business to take care of, even though you were together every night? You were still doing your own things, barely getting into bed at the same time.

Thing was, you were only hoping to be a newlywed once - marriage wasn't as big a thing for you as it was for Bradley. And even babies. You loved your niece and nephew and Uncle Brooster was fantastic with them - it always left a pang in your heart that he would be such a good father. But even he admitted he wouldn't have the first idea of how to do it since his dad wasn't around when he was growing up and Maverick wasn't exactly an example of patriarchal learning.

You didn’t want to add the stress of calculating ovulation even if an app would do it for you, the disappointment of periods coming… you just wanted to have fun fucking, and pleasing each other as you moved into the next phase of your lives. The stress Annie went through and the lengths she was going to with IVF therapies - overwhelming hormones, nausea, mood swings, sore boobs, abdominal discomfort. God, when you had a difficult period, you could assume similarly but as Annie went through her treatments, at a fairly young age, it was eye-opening at best.

You remembered one sentence so vividly that it scared you to your bones, “When your biological clock starts… it’s all that your brain hears. You can’t undo it and it messes with your head.”

See? Terrifying. Fair for all involved.

But when your period was late after about two periods since going off birth control, you kind of hoped it was the drama of irregular periods and what it brought. It was why you went on the pill in the first place in your teens.

But there was something different as you channel surfed and Bradley cooked in the (motherfucking, finally renovated) kitchen. A strange cramping in your tummy. Not unbearable, but noticeable as you pressed against the pulsating pressure and made a face. Sighing, you unfolded yourself from the couch and moved to your handsome husband. You tenderly kissed between his shoulder blades and he gave an over the top shudder, as you giggled into his skin. He put his utensil down and turned to you, holding your chin in his calloused bug hand and giving you a quick peck before you quietly excused yourself, but not yet willing to admit to him it was to do a pregnancy test. And you weren’t entirely surprised when it revealed you were 1-2 weeks pregnant. And you weren’t entirely surprised when you showed him the positive pregnancy test after dinner that still certainly said PREGNANT in fat, bold letters.

“It tells you how many weeks?” Bradley was astonished, his eyes glued to the digital reading before him.

“Clever, huh?” you said quietly. Bradley’s honey eyes flicked to regard you. Unreadable at best, erring on the side of too quiet. Reserved, but not disappointed, he had trouble reading you sometimes, and this was one he'd need you to talk through. He needed to know exactly what was going on through your head.

“You good?” he asked softly, grasping the test in his strong palm. It was so small but it held his world in his grip. He put the test down to caress your jaw, forcing your gaze to him. “Love…” his fingers light as they sunk into the hair at the nape of your neck. “My sweet girl,” he called to you.

“I think I am. It’s just… quick," you surrender, falling into his sound touch.

“It is quick,” Bradley agreed, kissing your hair. “Is it too quick?”

“Maybe…” you admitted as he pressed a kiss into your temple and wrapped his strong arms around you. He felt too warm and he protected you without question, you really couldn’t imagine life without him right there.

“If it’s too soon, that’s okay," he said softly.

“I saw how hard it was for Annie and just expected we’d be on our own a bit longer. Genetics and shit."

He bit back his smile and your inadvertent joke, or necessary sarcasm. Bradley hummed. “I think your genetics are pretty fine, if you ask me.”

Eyes rolling in corny, you muttered his name as a warning that jokes were unnecessary at this time.

“Okay, okay,” he answered, palms up, teasing off. He knew you were withholding and he knew he was holding everything back in his body not to go over the top with the excitement bubbling in his entire being. “Love, is this what you want? If you're not ready - if you have changed your mind - ”

I just need some time,” you admitted, cutting him off. “Just to get used to…” your voice trailed.

Bradley nodded. He in no way felt like it was his place to speak and as the facial one between the pair of you? Well. So he just continued to hold you and whisper that whatever you decided was okay, and he would support you with anything you decided, a lot or not he wasn’t sure. He thought you were on the same page. He thought you both wanted this -

Like you, his insides were much and could feel himself lightheaded. He grounded himself and carefully reminded himself this wasn’t about him for now. It was getting your beautifully convoluted brain and heart to the same place his was:

Ready.

“What if this is our only chance?” You asked quietly. “What if - “ you shut your mouth and the guilt of situation started to overwhelm you. Bradley only hummed, still choosing to remain mute. “Would you hate me?”

He remained reflective a moment, choosing his words carefully his best option.

“No, love. But I would never live with myself if I forced you to do something you weren’t ready for. Come,” he took your hands and led you to the bedroom. He helped you take off your clothes, his large palm resting gently over your abdomen for just a second longer than he should have and it didn’t go unnoticed by you.

His baby in your protective, strong body.

He pulled back the duvet and patted your pillow as you snuck under the cold sheets, thinking maybe you could sleep a year. He climbed in after you, the warm skin of his chest against your back under the slowly spinning ceiling fan. His fingertips traced your hip, slowly drawing his name on your skin. "If you don't want to do this, it's okay.”

There was your voice of reason.

“But it's still something you'll need to consider pretty quick..."

Always offering you both sides.

It was silent a while and while Bradley’s excitement was guarded carefully, even he knew this conversation was not the light and excited one he thought you’d share instead.

"I want this," you were able to say, but it was easier with him not boring his eyes into yours. He kissed your shoulder and nuzzled the nape of your neck.

"I love you," he said so softly you almost didn't hear him. "I won't let you do this alone."

The fateful night you told your family and the Dagger Squad was when it really started to feel real. Your pregnancy to that point has been pretty good. You only turned green as food cooked around you so it was easy to excuse yourself and the extreme exhaustion that overwhelmed you the first trimester slinked away entering the second. You weren’t horribly unwell but things were definitely changing within you.

Boobs sore and off limits to Bradley even though he’d playfully volunteered his palms but your personal support system. It went about as well as expected.

“Just ginger ale tonight?” Bob smiled a while later. You’d been chatting quietly together while Bradley’s squad played pool and generally one-upped each other around you.

“What do you mean?” God, you hated lying to such a delight as Bob. He was so sweet, and although Bradley had alluded to his well-guarded playboy-like ways, he was always darling to you.

“I have four sisters,” he sipped his water. “She pretended she was drinking bourbon and ginger ale to throw everyone off the scent she was…” he chuckled quietly and you’d be damned if you’d figured him out. “It’s okay,” he said quickly. “I understand if you’re just not drinking tonight.”

And while your family was aware of your news, Bradley had sworn not to tell his friends just yet. You weren’t ready to be looked in on 24/7 by overzealous Navy pilots.

“Nearly four months,” you said quietly.

“Phoenix guessed a little less,” he winked. “I won’t tell, but I’m very happy for you both. This baby will be so loved. Or smothered,” he shrugged playfully. “One of the two.”

“Bob?”

“Yes, ma’am?” He responded as you rolled your eyes playfully.

“This is how you do it, isn’t it?”

“Do what?” He played dumb.

“Find women. Because you watch and listen.” And suddenly it all made such sense as he blushed, toying with his glass.

“I can’t reveal all my trade secrets, but showing a little interest helps,” he admitted.

“I wanna know all your tricks. You’re absolutely fascinating to me.”

And for the first time, you heard Bob Floyd cackle as he nodded. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but that’s never gonna happen.”

"You're getting deployed?" you look at Bradley, eyes wild, six months of baby belly between you. His head fell back.

"I know."

"You know?" you screeched, spoiled for months of your husband home and he finds himself deployed as you enter your final trimester. "Bradley, you'll be away for the birth of your daughter."

"I know..." he said a little meeker. He was sick about this conversation. Sick.

"Did you not put in the leave paperwork?"

"Of course I did. Baby, this classification is my first real role as team leader. As command.”

"Who's going with you?"

"Payback, Fanboy," he confirmed softly.

“Will you be home for Christmas?”

He nodded. “Yes,” he stepped towards you, his large palms sinking into the round belly under his grasp, tickling the stretching skin. You sighed and collapsed into his hold. “Even if I have to jump overboard and swim back myself, I will be here for Christmas. I’m sorry, love. I’m so sorry.”

“I’m just scared. The birth is one thing… but I can’t raise a baby in my own,” you said, the fear in your evident.

“And I’d never let you,” he whispered into your hair.

"If you see one ounce of action, I swear to you, don't dare come home."

He nodded. Dear God, he knew. The most danger Bradley Bradshaw had ever been in was at this moment. And as his baby girl kicked him from her little cocoon in retaliation for making her Mama wild, he knew that nothing g else mattered anymore and that someway, somehow he was going to find a way to be home for his girls.

masterlist.

[zosan-secondchances]

The Pirate King of the North: Part 9

Bonus panels for some extra backstory.

Main Themes: Villain Sanji, Alternate Universe, Zosan Ship

Warning: Long post ahead with One Piece spoilers. Contains strong language and explicit content.

Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9

That night, the swordsman makes a last minute decision to rectify things with the blonde. He figured that there's no point in delaying as this might be the only chance they get to talk one-on-one before they get stuck in Skypiea with Law for however long they need to be up there. Since his cocktail-making skills are apparently subpar at best, he thought he'd turn to doing something else that he hopes Sanji would like before he pops the question–about the name, he reminds himself. Whatever it is, it will need to be something incredible to make up for the shame of not knowing something so simple about the man after all the years they’ve known together.

He thinks about quickly jumping off to collect some flowers in Jaya’s South Grove, but he is met by Jean Bart who drags his sorry feet back inside. The large man assigned himself on “Zoro duty”, not wanting the Warlord to get lost the night before he needed to depart with their captain. Apparently they had pissed him off enough already that day.

Zoro turns to the kitchen to try and find Sanji's favourite snacks, and maybe sneak away with a couple bottles of wine to help set the mood. Unfortunately he bumped into Hakugan and Uni who are guarding the door, ready to strike him down should he set foot inside the room. They give him a powerful performance of their martial arts prowess as a gentle reminder that he's banned from the place, warning him that they’re not afraid to put their lives on the line to enforce Law’s rules. When he tried to ask for their assistance to go and fetch what he needed, they both turned him away, thinking that he's just trying to distract them so he can do whatever evil thing he apparently was set out to do.

His last option was the library. He’s not much of a reader but he figured he would try because he knew of Sanji’s love for knowledge and books. He wants to read a story or two with him to see if that’s something they would enjoy doing together. Sadly, when he arrives, he is met by the Grand Line’s most impatient doctor who is currently studying the Skypiea map with Bepo at the polar bear’s drafting table, trying to come up with a plan of action for when they get there in the morning. Not wanting to be distracted or have the library wrecked the way Zoro did with the kitchen, Law used his Room ability to teleport him out of there before he could even get a chance to grab something off the shelves.

Having no other options left, Zoro resorts to the idea of giving the blonde mind-blowing sex. He would worship him like the king he is and he would do it all night if the other man demanded it so. The swordsman figured it's probably the safest bet anyway while they’re in the early honeymoon phase of their relationship. Sanji is highly skilled in that area for a very good reason.

He makes his way to their bunkroom. Under the door, he sees that the dim light of the desk lamp is still on. Finally, things are looking up. He thinks to himself that now’s the perfect chance to make a move while Sanji is probably still up reading at this hour as usual.

Until he hears a couple of familiar voices on the other side of the door. They were muffled, but their identities were clear.

Sanji

…Are you sure that you're okay? I don't know how effective it is with the front broken like that.

Niji

Dunno. It's like…having mood swings. The sensation goes in and out. It's a bit weird.

Sanji

I need you to get it fixed first then. And while you're at it, drop off the new stones at the lab.

I'm not sending you in until you're all good.

Niji

I can still fight.

Sanji

I'm not letting you take the risk until your helmet’s fixed, Niji. That's my final word. You’re on your own with this next mission and I need you to be able to make good calls.

Another pang of guilt hits the swordsman–for not being careful enough and wrecking the commander’s helmet, and for eavesdropping for as long as he has so far. He starts walking backwards, and was about to turn his heel and move somewhere else to give them privacy when Sanji’s voice pierced through the door.

Sanji

Hey, Mosshead! Don't be a creep and get in here.

Zoro flinches, and silently curses the blonde’s mastery of his observation haki. He doesn't want to make things look worse than it already is so he opens the door awkwardly. He's met by two pairs of eyes.

Sanji is leaning with his palms against the desk while Niji is sitting on the chair, fiddling with the blonde's claw gauntlet on the table. It looks like there's two now. From afar, Zoro could tell that their blades are longer, sharper and more dangerous than the last. The metallic scale armour that covered the glove is a new addition, having only just durable leather holding everything together before.

Niji

Spying on us, are we?

Zoro grits his teeth, throwing the blue-haired man an annoyed look.

Sanji

This is also his room, Commander.

Niji tuts disapprovingly then resumes his work on the claw gauntlet.

Zoro

I didn't want to interrupt. I’ll just head out for some fresh air.

Sanji

You didn't interrupt anything. The commander was just showing me his handiwork. He’ll be done soon! I just needed a couple of fitting adjustments done and we’re all set.

Niji

Hmm… no. Now that I think about it, this will take a bit longer than I thought. 

Sanji

What? But you said–

Niji

Whoops.

As if done on purpose, a buckle disassembles itself in Niji’s hands. Little bits of metal scatter on the desk.

Sanji

You’re such an ass. Fine. Stay here, hog the room. I don’t care. Let’s go, Marimo.

Niji

No, I need you to stay here so we can refit it. Because the buckle’s broken now.

Sanji

You broke it!

Niji

And I need to fix it but I can only do that if you’re here. So, stay.

Sanji

I will actually pluck your eyeballs out one of these days, Commander.

Sanji stomps out the door, grabbing Zoro’s arm along the way.

Niji

Where are you going? We need to get this done tonight before you head off first thing!

Sanji

I’ll be back!

Zoro and Sanji walk arm-in-arm quietly to the deck of the ship. They were met by Jean Bart who was about to tell off Zoro for being outside, but the blonde reassured the large man that he has eyes on him, promising to keep the grumbling swordsman out of trouble. Happy with the response, the Heart Pirate retires inside for the night.

Zoro

Isn’t the whole point of me being here is to keep an eye on you?

Sanji chuckled heartily–music to the swordsman’s ears.

Sanji

I know. What the hell happened to us?

They proceeded to the bow of the ship and settled themselves against the railing. It was quiet and serene. The crescent moon is up, revealing the dark silhouette of Jaya island on the horizon. Above, stars shone brightly across the span of the night sky–its reflections twinkled playfully on the still waters of the ocean below.

Sanji

You’re awfully quiet.

Zoro tears his gaze away from the scene. He looks next to him where the blonde has a hand wrapped around his arm and finishing a cigarette with the other.

Sanji

You usually are, but your silence is…louder somehow.

The swordsman rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. Suddenly he’s not so sure what to say and how he’d ask the big question. He wanted to get this far tonight–tried many times to set up the scene better but to no avail. He also didn’t realise how he would feel right in the thick of things.

Zoro

There’s been a lot in my mind. Sorry.

Sanji

Never apologise for that…but whatever it is, I could tell that it’s eating you up.

Zoro sighs and returns his gaze to the island on the horizon.

Sanji

Is this because you had a fight with my brother?

Zoro’s eyebrows shoot up.

Zoro

Did he–?

Sanji

He didn’t have to. His helmet's busted and don’t think I haven’t noticed your little injury on your forehead, damn Mosshead. If you don’t take care of your head, how will you be able to photosynthesize?

Zoro scowls at the mockery.

Sanji laughs lightly, kissing the swordsman on the cheek as a way of reassuring him that it’s just a joke. After noticing that his attempt to release the tension didn’t work, he speaks in a slightly more serious tone.

Sanji

Did he try to scare you away? Is that why you’ve been avoiding me all night?

Zoro shakes his head.

Sanji

Don’t freak out or anything but… you’re not the first that he’s done that to. I can tell him to back off if you want.

Zoro

No… it’ll take a lot more than that to get me to leave your side, Curls.

The blonde’s expression softens.

Zoro

Though, I didn’t mean to make you feel like I was trying to avoid you. I spent hours… ages… trying to plan this whole thing for us tonight but I feel like whatever I do…

The swordsman gets flashbacks of all the times he’d slashed and stabbed the man. He remembers cursing his way repeatedly for attempting to propose to him for the umpteenth time. He recalls their first kiss–how the first thing that came out of his mouth was to tell him to not kill the Celestial Dragon, and because of that, it nearly cost him his life. In fact, he might have permanently if not for their skillful doctor. He remembers the way the blonde held onto the liberated family from Sabaody. How, even in his critical condition, he fought from fully succumbing into sleep just to make sure that everyone was okay as they fled from the Pacifistas. 

And now, with a seemingly easy task of organising a romantic night, the swordsman can’t even do such a simple thing for him.

Zoro clenches his fists against the wooden railing.

Zoro

I can’t seem to do anything right by you…. I just feel like everything that I do is not good enough–or just flat out hurts you. And right now, I have nothing but myself to offer. For whatever that's worth.

Sanji

Zoro…

Zoro shifts so he’s looking at Sanji face to face then holds both of his hands in his, making the other man drop his cigarette. The determined fiery look in his eye makes the blonde jump in surprise.

Zoro

Curls, I want to get to know you better.

Sanji

Uh–sure!

Zoro

What’s your favourite food?

Sanji

Uhm… let’s see…

Zoro

If you had all the money in the world, where would you go?

Sanji

Oh Mellorine, I do have all the mon–

Zoro

How long does it take to get there?

Is that where you want to go for our first date?

Is shopping your thing? I'm not good with that stuff but I could ask Nami or Robin for advice.

If we’re going on holiday, can we do it alone first or would you prefer bringing your family along?

How many kids do you want to have?

Sanji

MARIMO!

Sanji thinks that he’s about to go crazy. His face is all red, he feels hot up to his ears and his heart is pounding so much like it's going to burst out of his chest. The swordsman’s sweetness and thoughtfulness overwhelms him with joy. He starts laughing out loud–in a way that he’s never laughed before, ignoring the slight ache from his recent surgery. He thinks that if he breaks stitches this way, so be it, because he’s never felt his chest so light and heart so full. He felt so happy that he could fly. 

The swordsman looked confused and offended from all the unhinged laughter like he was being made fun of.

Sanji cups Zoro’s face into his hands, trying his best to recover from his outburst.

Sanji

I didn’t realise that you needed to know everything now!

Zoro looks down to his lips, watching that attractive smile that he’s always drawn to.

Zoro

I just… I really wanted to… to…

Sanji pulls him in to claim his mouth with his. He pushes Zoro roughly against the railing, determined to show the swordsman how much he appreciates him at that very moment. He slides his hand up and down the man’s body, massaging, caressing and feeling everything that he could lay his hands on. He wants to show his love and admiration to the man by worshipping every part of him. Zoro was more than happy to reciprocate the affection.

They stayed like that for what seemed like a lifetime. Regrettably, Sanji pulls himself away from the most passionate kiss he's ever had in his life so he could breathe. He kept his body close as he panted.

Zoro leans in and continues his assault on his lips–biting and sucking hard then giving them soothing licks to ease the arousing pain–not wanting for everything to stop so soon. Between breaths, the blonde speaks.

Sanji

We have our entire lives to get to know one another…. What’s your rush, Marimo?

Zoro freezes at that, blinking his eye. Then for the first time that night, he smiles his genuine toothy smile.

Zoro

I guess we do, don’t we?

Sanji scoops up one of his rough hands and gives it a tender kiss on the calloused knuckles.

Sanji

I want to savour every moment of this–of us, okay? Right now, it’s just you, me… and this.

Sanji gestures at the scene in front of them, then swings his hand around to point out the environment surrounding them–the bright moon, the calm waters and the clear starry skies.

Sanji

Nothing else matters.

Zoro looks into his wide blue eyes. They're positively glowing a lot more so than usual tonight. He wraps his arms around the man and leans his forehead on his, kissing the bridge of his nose. The blonde was correct–nothing else mattered. It felt right to be there. In his heart, he decides to make it a mission to spend every waking moment to prove that he's worthy of his trust, even if it takes a lifetime for him to open up and tell him his real name. He would not demand it that day. He thinks that if he truly deserved it, the blonde will share it to him in time at his own volition. They do have a lifetime to get to know one another, after all.

The swordsman had lost a gamble with Nami that night. He’ll have to remember to send the navigator a couple hundred Beri through the post somehow for betting on him falling in love that year.

—

At a far distance, hidden in the thick mist of the sea, a particularly tall and lanky Warlord watches the blonde and his green-haired companion through the lens of his spyglass. With a flick of his wrist, he retracts the telescope and tosses it to a dark silhouette of a man.

Stranger

Now's the perfect time. Let’s do it.

Doflamingo

Hmm…no. I want to savour… every… moment of this….

He lets out a deep chuckle. 

Doflamingo

Besides, I have another job for you. But that’s tomorrow’s problem.

You are dismissed.

He waves off the man, and the figure walks off. Doflamingo stands from the comfort of his chair and takes a few long strides to the bow of the ship, never taking his eyes off the small dot on the horizon that is the Polar Tang.

Doflamingo

I’m grateful you showed us the way, Pirate King. You never fail me, do you?

…Sanji.

----------

I had way too much fun with those panel drawings. (Honestly part of it was me trying to find an excuse to draw more dofsan lol)

If it's not obvious yet, I try to line up certain things about this Sanji and canon Sanji. Instead of him being exclusively in love with mermaids, I like to think he loves all merfolk in this story.

Fukaboshi's always been the one on my mind as Sanji's "the one who got away" romance. I was rewatching Fish-man Island arc and I remembered how wise and noble he is, and has a great sense of responsibility to look after his family. I figured this Sanji would be attracted to those qualities.

Plus, you know, have you seen those big hands? Fwah~!

[writteninthebinds]

Teach Me

A Jayvik fic - Part One

Word-count: Not sure. It’s super short though,

Summary: Jayce and Viktor attend the last summer banquet.

Warnings: None for part one. Nsfw in later parts.

Notes: Pt. 2 ?? I have so much more to say about this so I definitely could. Also, this is my first long form writing in a really long time. There might be mistakes lmao. I’m still figuring out formatting and everything so it’s not the best but it’s something! 🫶🏼

It’s almost comical how quickly they get parted from one another. Large innate doors swing open, Viktor’s shoulder brushing his own, and then Jayce is swept into a crowd. It’s routine. It’s hell.

It’s the last banquet of the summer.

People from all over are present to talk guidelines and shipments, detailed plans for the winter months ahead. Handshakes, small talk, and shady partnership offers whispered into his ears all evening.

He has a partner already, one he will eventually find on a secluded balcony.

Vik isn’t hard to find. He’s like a plucked nerve, thrumming and humming beneath Jayce’s tan skin. A beacon of honey amber eyes already looking down at him.

Jayce could find him anywhere.

He slips away as soon as he can, happy to be from within the stifling wave of socialization. It’s warm tonight, even underneath the stars. A thin layer of sweat coats the muscles of his back.

“Jayce.”

Viktor speaks his name softly without turning around. His voice is a living contradiction. Like something wild and free was rendered and polished smooth. Dark. Rich. It sends a warmth spreading like fire through Jayce’s soft belly.

“And here you are,” Jayce breathes. Finally above the chaos, and underneath the weighted blanket of a dark sky. Viktor by his side. He’s at ease.

“You had fun, no?” Viktor asked. There’s a lilt to his accent, light and teasing. Jayce smirks, huffs even. A dramatic shift of his head towards Viktor sends his longer hair, shaggy and unruly, twisting that way. Hazel eyes catching golden, they burst into laughter.

“You know better than anyone that this is no more my scene than it is yours. I got so swept up in it before, the pressure of it all. Hmm, so no, but I did have fun stealing these for you,” Jayce declares.

Palm upturned, he showcases a stash of Viktor’s favorite candy, slightly melted from the heat of the night and his body on his trek to the room. A delicate rarity, a special shipment of rich fudge, wrapped around a creamy peanut butter center.

Jayce soaks in Viktor’s full attention finally. That nerve thrumming deeply. Vik’s body turned to him, smile fond and eyes bright. The only sounds to follow are candy wrappers unfolding.

Jayce watches Viktor turn back towards the crowd. His dark brows crease as he narrows his gaze, trying to see just what or who below them is keeping Viktor’s attention. He follows to the twirling sea of fabric and skin. People dancing in the moonlight.

Silence. Then -

“Teach me how to dance.”

Thrum.

Viktor’s eyes are back on his, ever clear and steady. Burning. Jayce’s skin is practically vibrating.

“That is the one and only thing about these events I envy,” Viktor continues. Voice scratching its way out of Jayce’s throat, he ventures, “So why aren’t you dancing?”

“Were you just not listening to me? I do not know how,” Vik huffs. Sass coats each word, dripping from them like molasses.

A beat.

Viktor’s hand drops from the railing to his thigh, knuckles rapping against the brace hidden by his clothes. Oh. Viktor’s gaze is unwavering. He’s not shy or ashamed, at least not here, not now, with Jayce. He just wants to dance. To learn.

Thrum.

“Okay. Yeah. Of course. Let’s, uh, more room inside,” Jayce says with all the confidence and conviction he doesn’t feel. He gestures towards the french doors leading into the suite, following Viktor and his smile inside.

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Can u do a Bayverse family au oneshot of Raph being a girl dad and hanging out with his girls?

Dad’s Monkeys (Fluff)

Children Series

Bayverse!Raphael x reader

A/N: It’s about time I give Raph and his daughters some time to shine❤️ The whole Monkey Tree thing is inspired by a came the children in my kindergarten have started playing, where they pretend to hang and climb on the adults. However we usually do it while sitting down, and do not actually allow the kids to hang from our arms in order to protect our backs. But it's fun and they enjoy it. Hope you’ll enjoy❤️

Ages: Joan - 7. Minerva - 3. Ragnar - A few weeks.

Warning: None that I can think of❤️

Sometimes, having a newborn along with a 3 year old and a 7 year old could be very hard. With your newborn son Ragnar, taking up most of your attention, it was hard to provide Joan and Minerva with the same attention, especially when Ragnar seemed to cry whenever he wasn’t carried or strapped to you. Luckily, your husband was there to help you with that, often taking your daughters off your hands, so you were able to provide for the young boy, who still wasn’t able to hold up his head on his own.

It was not hard for Raph to keep his daughter's attention. They adored him, with both of them willing to be described as their father’s girls. Joan being a force to be reckoned with, proving to be the biggest fear of Raph’s punching bag, and Mini always sticking around or on Raph whenever she could, like a monkey in a tree. And so, Raph would often bring his daughters to the weight room, where all three could take turns on the punching bag. Both for fun, and as a form of training. Two birds with one stone!

“Dad! Watch this!”, Joan yelled out, making sure she had Raph’s attention, before using her boxing glove covered hand to punch the large bag, hanging in a chain from the ceiling, causing it to swing back and furth. Raph was impressed. It felt like yesterday he first taught his oldest child how to swing her fist at a bag, and at the age of 7, she was already throwing a punch that Raph had no doubt could rival both Casey and Vern.

“Wow, well done, Jo”, Raph said, watching his oldest daughter while letting Minerva crawl up on his lap, letting her use his arm for balance. “Where did ya’ learn that?”

“You taught me that!”, Joan exclaimed with a big smile, throwing her arms up in the air, the large gloves looking comical on her hands.

“Ya’ sure? I don’t remember doing that”, Raph said with a small smile, knowing that his light teasing would get a joyful reaction out of Joan.

“Yes, you did, dad!”, Joan called out, almost bouncing over to Raph and Minerva, who had finally gotten comfortable on Raph’s left thigh, with his left arm wrapped around her, her head resting against Raph’s chest, watching her sister jump in her steps in front of Raph.

“Me? I think ya’ must have been dreaming. I couldn’t have taught ya’ that. I’m not that strong”, Raph said, acting like his arms were heavy and tired, slumping his shoulders. This seemed to get a reaction from Minerva, who looked up at Raph like he was crazy.

“That’s not true!”, Minerva called out, almost like Raph’s comment had personally hurt her. “You are strong!”

“Mini’s right, dad!”, Joan said, grabbing onto Raph’s other arm that wasn’t wrapped around her little sister, pushing it up over her head, where Raph kept it in place, allowing Joan to dangle from it like a monkey climbing in a tree, once she had taken her boxing gloves off, throwing them across the room. “See!”

Raph was about to say something along the lines of him just being lucky with his arms, only to get interrupted by Minerva, jumping from Raph’s lap to the floor, pushing the arm that had just been around her, up over her head.

“Me too!”, she yelled, pointing at Joan, still dangling from Raph’s arm. “I want to try too!”

“Only because you two are my favorite climbing monkeys”, Raph said, holding out his arms for Minerva, just low enough for her to grab a hold.

“Yay! Monkeys!”, the two girls exclaimed, laughing and giggling as they swung back and furth on Raph’s arm, kicking their legs underneath them. However those laughs and giggles quickly turned to screams of joy and excitement, as Raph stood up from his seat, bringing the girls higher up into the air, dangling from his arms as we walked around the weight room.

“Ya’ know what?”, Raph asked over the joyous sounds of his daughter. “I might be strong after all”, he said, lifting his arms up and down, like the two girls were nothing but weights, causing them to scream and giggle even louder.

—

With small Ragnar pressed against your chest, his small face scrunched up as he snuggled against you for warmth and comfort, you sat down on the couch, draping a blanket over you, pulled up just high enough, to cover the lower half of your son. Ragnar let out a small sound of comfort, his breathing growing calm as he seemed to fall asleep against you, listening to your heartbeat.

It was here, feeling the exhaust from looking after your newborn slowly take over you, that you heard the unmistakable sound of your daughters’ laughter, echoing against the walls, coming from the weight room. With a smile you listened to your daughters chanting the phrase “Monkey tree! Monkey tree!”, over and over again, followed by your husband’s bombing voice, declaring that he was in fact, a walking monkey tree, with Joan and Minerva laughing loudly at this declaration.

It may at times be hard to take care of a newborn, a 3 year old and a 7 year old, but it was at moments like these, hearing the joyous laughters of your husband and your daughters, provided you with a feeling of comfort, letting you know that everything would be alright in the end. You and Raph were trying your best, and in the end that was perfect.

[lvnleah]

Ooh for the potential Christmas fic for Bug could be something about the Christmas days like the dinners that we've seen the Arsenal teams have for a few years now??

Like just imagine this little one toddling along, picking what she wants on her dinner like 'this, and this, and this'

Or finding out what mistletoe is and clutching it in her little hand and running around, practically shoving it in all of the players' faces to get cheek kisses

I'm sure I'll think of so many more little scenarios, so glad you're writing more for her 🥹😂

— bug’s christmas dinner | lotte wubben-moy 🎄

this is part of a double update! bug meeting santa will be out later on this evening :)

It was Christmas dinner day at training and possibly your favourite part about tagging along with Lotte. Christmas music played in the background, the smell of roast turkey and stuffing filled the air, and the tables were decorated with tinsel and little Christmas crackers. Lotte walked in, holding your tiny hand, and you stared wide-eyed at all the colorful decorations.

“Excited for Christmas dinner, Bug?” Lotte asked, crouching down so she was at your level.

You nodded eagerly, the reindeer antlers on your head bouncing as you hopped in place. “I wan’ turkey, Mummy! An’ gravy! But no green things,” you added firmly, wrinkling your nose.

Lotte laughed, taking your hand and guiding you to the canteen. She grabbed a small plate for you, balancing it in one hand while holding you steady with the other. “Alright, let’s see what we’ve got here.”

As you peeked up at the food, your nose crinkled. “What’s dat?” you asked, pointing suspiciously at a tray of roasted Brussels sprouts.

“Brussels sprouts,” Lotte said, glancing at the server. “They’re very healthy, want to try some?”

You shook your head furiously. “No. Don’ wan’ those.”

“What about carrots?” Lotte asked, moving down the line.

You crossed your arms, thinking hard. “Uhhh…only one.”

Beth appeared next to you, holding her plate and grinning. “Are you being a picky eater? You’ve been spending too much time with Leah! She’s just as bad.”

“Oi!” Leah called from another table, overhearing. “Don’t drag me into this!”

Lotte laughed, scooping one carrot onto your plate. “It’s true, though. You’re just as stubborn as Bug.”

“I’m not ‘tubborn!” you declared, clearly misunderstanding who they were talking about. “I’m Bug!”

That sent both Beth and Lotte into fits of laughter. Once the giggles calmed, Lotte helped you pick out the rest of your food: turkey, a scoop of mashed potatoes, and a bit of stuffing after a lot of coaxing. No peas, though—you made that very clear.

With your plate ready, Lotte carried it over to the table where she was sitting with Alessia, Leah, Lia, and Emily. She helped you up into your chair, your little legs swinging as you dug into the turkey first.

Dinner was lively. Leah teased Emily about her terrible Christmas jumper, Alessia told you all about how she and Lotte celebrated Christmas in America, and Lotte kept cutting your turkey into smaller pieces because you kept repeating, “Mummy, it’s too big!”

When your plate was clean—except for the single carrot you’d moved around but never touched—you leaned back in your chair and tapped Lotte. “All done!”

“Good job, bug,” Lotte said, wiping a bit of mashed potato off your cheek.

“I open my cracker now?” you asked, bouncing in your seat.

“Of course!” Lotte handed you the bright red Christmas cracker, helping you hold one end while she pulled the other. It popped loudly, making you giggle, and out fell a tiny spinning top and a paper crown.

“Look, Mummy!” you squealed, holding up the top. “It spins!”

“Oh that’s so cool, bug!” Lotte said, smiling warmly. She placed the paper crown on your head, tilting it slightly to fit over your reindeer antlers.

Without hesitation, you slid down from your chair, clutching the spinning top. “I’m gon’ show everyone!”

You made your rounds, waddling over to the next table where Katie, Caitlin, Kyra and some of the staff were sitting. “Look what I got!” you announced proudly, holding up the spinning top.

Katie gasped dramatically. “No way! Is that a magic top?”

You nodded, spinning it on the table for her and everyone to see. “It goes fast!”

“Very fast!” Caitlin agreed, matching your excitement, “That’s so cool, Bug!”

Next, you ran to Viv and Beth’s table. “Beffy! Vivi! Look!”

Beth gasped, “Is that your Christmas present from the cracker?”

“Yep!” you said as Viv lifted you up onto her lap before spinning it again. “It’s magic!”

Viv smiled softly. “So cool, bug! Did you enjoy your dinner?”

You nodded proudly, swinging your legs back and forth on Viv’s lap. “I ate all of it!”

Beth raised an eyebrow, “Even the carrot?”

Your face scrunched up, and you crossed your arms. “No silly Beffy! Don’ wan’ the carrot.”

That sent both women into laughter, Viv pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “Fair enough, Bug. Carrots aren’t for everyone.”

Beth leaned over the table, pretending to whisper. “You know, if you eat your carrots, you grow big and strong—like me!”

You giggled, hopping off Viv’s lap as you darted toward the next table, spinning top clutched tightly in your little hand.

You made your way around all the other tables, showing off your spinning top to everyone you knew. Each player gave you just as much enthusiasm as the last, clapping and cheering as if you’d just won a big prize. By the time you got back to Lotte, you were ready for a nap. 

When you returned to Lotte, you climbed straight into her lap, tucking your spinning top into your pocket and resting your head against her chest.

“Have fun, Bug?” she asked, wrapping her arms around you as she leaned back in her chair.

You nodded, letting out a content sigh. “’M tired now, Mummy.”

“I bet you are,” Lotte said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “You’ve been running around like a little reindeer all day.”

Alessia, sitting beside Lotte, reached over to gently fix your slightly lopsided paper crown. “Bug, I think you’ve talked to more people today than I have all season.”

You grinned sleepily. “’Cause I got a magic top.”

You yawned, cuddling closer to Lotte. “Mummy, can we go home now? I wan’ snuggle.”

Lotte’s heart melted at the sleepy tone in your voice. “Of course, Bug,” she whispered, smoothing a hand over your hair. “Let’s say goodbye to everyone first, okay?”

You nodded but didn’t move from her lap. Instead, the rest of the team started making their way over to say their goodbyes.

Beth was the first, crouching down beside you. “Bye, Bug. Make sure you take good care of your magic top, alright?”

“I will,” you mumbled, your eyes already fluttering shut.

One by one, the team said their goodbyes. By the time the last person had waved, you were fully asleep, your tiny hand clutching Lotte’s shirt.

“She’s wiped out,” Alessia said softly, smiling at the sight.

Lotte nodded, standing carefully so she didn’t wake you. “She’s had a big day. Christmas dinner is serious business for her.”

With that, Lotte carried you out to the car, your reindeer antlers slipping slightly as your head rested against her shoulder. As she buckled you into your car seat, she couldn’t help but smile at your peaceful expression.

“Goodnight, Bug,” she whispered, tucking a blanket over you in the back seat. “Mummy loves you.”