#i love them i would give them both my credit card information

[chrisrin]

MORE FUSIONS!!! this time, we've got Aventurine and Bloodstone!

[newobsessionweekly]

Secret signals

Main masterlist | The Rookie masterlist

Tim Bradford x fem!reader Fandom: The Rookie

Summary: You and Tim have been best friends for as long as you can remember. Little did you know he feels the same way about you.

Warning: None. Pure fluff. Not proofread yet

Fluff

A/N: Yes, i'm back with another fluff. And yes it's shorter than the last one (i hope so) . Anyways, I love this one. I love all of them and I hope you enjoy it as well! Also i suck at title so forgive me. I have a surprise coming up so stay tuned. Also, the feedback is always welcome and would help me out. Have a wonderful day, bubs. and lots of love 🫧 Requested: Yes Words: 2.3k GIF not mine, credits to the owner.

You made your way through the crowded streets, heading to the police station, a direct order and classified information dictating your day.

Inside the station, the air is alive with activity, officers bustling about as they go about their duties. The scent of coffee and paperwork fills the air, a familiar aroma that feels like home. You navigate the labyrinthine halls with ease, your footsteps echoing off the walls as you make your way toward a specific desk.

And there's Tim, your best friend and partner in crime. He's every bit as striking as you remember, with his broad shoulders and commanding presence. His piercing blue eyes hold a hint of world-weariness, a testament to the countless battles he's fought both on and off the streets of LA.

You couldn't help but smile at the sight, Tim frowning over some files, trying to find a way to catch that woman. Gladly for him, you were sent there to give them a hand.

Playfully, you snuck up on him, sliding into the chair beside Tim with a mischievous grin. "Hey there, partner." you greeted him, nudging his shoulder.

Tim's head shot up, a surprised, almost intelligible, smile breaking through his expression as he grumbles something indecipherable, but you know him well enough to recognize the hint of amusement in his eyes. "Can't a guy get some peace and quiet around here?" he mutters.

"Don't be so exited to see me, I might think you like me or something." you played the sarcastic card as you reached over to snatch the file from his hands.

"So, what brings you to the lion's den today?" Tim asks, arching an eyebrow in curiosity as he leans against his desk, arms crossed.

You lean in closer, your fingers brushing against his arm as you secretively whispered, "I heard there's a handsome police officer in need of my assistance. Thought I'd drop by and grace you all with my presence," you quip, earning an amused snort from him.

A playful smirk crosses Tim's lips as his breath winds warm against your ear. "Right, because we all know this place wouldn't be the same without you."

As Tim leans in closer, his voice low and husky, you find yourself drawn to him like a moth to a flame, captivated by the warmth of his presence and the depth of emotion in his eyes. And as he grins at you, that familiar twinkle of mischief dancing in his gaze, you can't help but feel a surge of affection for the man who's been by your side through thick and thin. You chuckle, knowing Tim's gruff exterior hides a soft spot for you. "Actually, I'm here on official business," you admit, your expression turning serious.

As you steal a moment to admire Tim, you can't help but notice how the dim light of the station casts a soft glow on his rugged features, accentuating the lines of his jaw and the shadow of stubble along his chin. His tousled hair falls across his forehead in a way that makes your fingers itch to reach out and brush it away, but you resist the urge.

Tim's interest is piqued as he straightens up, all traces of humor fading from his face. "What kind of business?" he asks, his tone more serious now.

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself before continuing "Well, you know how my department has been working on that recent string of burglaries? I think I might have stumbled upon some information that could help you catch the woman behind it," you explain, your words coming out in a rush as you anxiously await Tim's reaction.

Tim's expression shifts, his eyes narrowing as he processes your words. "You think you've found something?" he asks, his voice tinged with a mix of skepticism and intrigue.

You nod eagerly, a surge of adrenaline coursing through you as you showed him the files. "Yeah, I've been going through the data from our latest investigations, and I noticed a pattern," you explain, your excitement palpable.

His lips twitch into a half-smile, a flicker of pride evident in his eyes as he looks at you. "You're amazing, you know that?" he says, his voice low and sincere.

Tim's eyes soften as he looks at you, a warmth radiating from him that makes your heart skip a beat. You find yourself getting lost in the depths of his piercing blue eyes, unable to tear your gaze away.

There's a subtle warmth in his touch, a lingering of his hand on your arm as he gestures or a light brush of his fingers against yours when passing papers. It's a touch that speaks volumes, conveying a depth of affection that goes beyond mere friendship.

Despite your best efforts to keep your feelings in check, you can't deny the way your heart races at the sight of him, or the way your skin tingles with electricity whenever your hands accidentally brush against each other. It's as if every touch, every fleeting glance, only serves to deepen the unspoken connection between you, binding you together in a way that defies explanation.

Your voice barely more than a breath as you lean into his touch, savoring the feeling of his fingers against your skin. In that moment, it feels like the rest of the world fades away, leaving just the two of you in your own little bubble of warmth and affection.

As you and Tim discuss the details of the case, a beautiful woman approaches with a stack of papers in hand. "Sir, I finished up the paperwork from this morning's arrest," she says, flashing a bright smile, confident and proud of herself.

You switched looks between the woman and Tim, admiring him and how his muscles were more visible. He switched in his seat to face Chen, as written on the tag. With one hand still laying on your waist, slowly moving up and down, sending cold shivers down your spine despite the warmth, he took the papers from her with his free hand and inspected them with a serious expression.

"Quit frowning, you'll get even more wrinkles." you told him as your elbows rested on his desk, your hands cupping your cheeks. You can't resist the urge to tease Tim, your playful banter a familiar comfort amidst the tension of the moment.

You smiled at him as he ignored your remark, he turns at the woman nodding his head, acknowledging her with a grunt. "Officer Chen, this is Y/N," he introduces, gesturing towards you. "She's an old friend of mine, works in the forensic department."

Lucy offers you a friendly smile and extends her hand. "I'm Lucy. Nice to meet you," she says warmly.

You shake her hand with a smile of your own. "Likewise," you reply, noting the earnestness in Lucy's eyes. "So this is your rookie." you turned to your best friend and then your attention focused on his rookie once more, "Tim speaks about you all the time."

Tim clears his throat, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. "Well, we should get going," he says, his voice a tad too loud in the suddenly awkward silence. "We've got patrol duty."

Angela overhears your name and practically materializes at Tim's desk, her curiosity piqued. "Why did no one tell me Y/N is here?" she asks, her eyes wide with interest.

Before you could think, you jump from your seat, missing Tim's warmth as you embraced Officer Lopez in a tight hug "Honey, glad to see you. It's been too long." you told her, gently caressing her back as you withdrew from the hug.

Pulling back, Angela's gaze flickering between you and Tim with a knowing glint in her eye. "I know, I've been busier than ever," she says with a chuckle. "But I might have some free time tonight. Gotta go, but I'll give you a call!"

Angela shows your best friend a mischievous grin as he clenches his jaw, uncomfortable at the attention you received. "Boot, prepare the shop for patrol." he barked at Lucy.

"Yes, sir." she nodded, following Angela's steps.

As you gathered your belongings, Tim could calmly breathe as the two of you had been left alone. It wasn't the fact he didn't adore your friendliness and caring side, he was jealous when he had to share that with anyone.

"Hey, uh," he called out, his tone tinged with an underlying nervousness.

Turning to face him, you couldn't help but notice the way his eyes seemed to search yours, as if seeking reassurance or perhaps something more.

"I was thinking," he began, his words trailing off for a moment before he cleared his throat and continued. "I was thinking we could grab a drink after our shift. You know, just to unwind."

His suggestion caught you off guard, and for a moment, you struggled to find the right words.

"That sounds great, Tim," you said, exited at the thought of escaping the daily chaos "We should ask Angela too."

As soon as the words left your mouth, his expression faltered for a moment, a flicker of disappointment crossing his features before he masked it with a forced smile. "Yeah, that sounds like a good idea," he replied, his tone betraying a hint of resignation.

Lucy couldn't help but steal glances back at you and as she made her way to the patrol shop. "So, Angela" she began, her voice filled with unstoppable curiosity " What's the deal with them?"

Angela chuckles softly as she saw the spark in Chen's eyes "Oh, they've been friends for as long as I can remember. They're practically inseparable."

Lucy's eyebrows shoot up in surprise "You wouldn't tell he'd have friends… at all."

Lopez helps Lucy with the bags as they made their way to the shop "Oh, they go way back."

"Really?"

"Let's just say there's a lot more to their relationship than meets the eye," she says cryptically, enjoying the opportunity to tease Tim.

Lucy's eyes widen in realization, her gaze flickering back to you and Tim standing by the entrance of the station. Tim's smile is wide, his eyes lighting up like torches as your cheeks rose a bright, red colour "You don't mean…" she begins, trailing off as the pieces start to fall into place.

Angela simply nods, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "Exactly," she replies, her tone filled with amusement. "But don't take my word for it. Just keep an eye on them, and you'll see for yourself."

As Lucy and Tim hit the streets on patrol, he is back to his grumpy self, his jaw clenched as he drove through the streets of LA. His rookie tries to lighten the mood with small talk, but Tim's responses are short and curt.

"My private life is none of your business."

"Come on, Tim," Officer Chen insisted, casting a sidelong glance at him. "You've been avoiding this conversation all day. What's going on with you and Y/N?"

Tim lets out a frustrated sigh, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. "There's nothing going on," he replies tersely, his eyes fixed on the road ahead.

The rookie raises an eyebrow, unconvinced by his response. "Bull," she retorts. "I've seen the way you look at her. You can't hide it from me."

Tim's jaw tightens even further, his knuckles turning white against the dark leather of the steering wheel. "Look, Officer Chen," he begins, his voice strained. "I don't know what you think you saw, but Y/N and I are just very close friends. That's it."

Lucy lets out an exasperated sigh, frustration bubbling up inside her. "You can't tell me you don't feel something for her. I've never seen you light up the way you do when she's around."

Tim's expression softens slightly at her words, a flicker of vulnerability crossing his features before he quickly masks it with a scowl. "Feelings don't matter," he says brusquely. "Even if I did have feelings for her, which I don't, there's no way she feels the same way about me. I'm no dating material. "

Lucy shakes her head, her voice firm. "You're wrong, Tim," she says, her gaze unwavering. "You're worth more than you think, and Y/N knows that. You just have to give her a chance."

Tim falls silent, his thoughts swirling as he grapples with Lucy's words. Maybe she's right, he thinks, maybe he's been too quick to dismiss the possibility of something more with you. But the fear of ruining your friendship looms large in his mind, holding him back from taking that leap of faith.

He suddenly pulled the car on the right side, making Lucy frown. As she watched Tim forming Angela's number, a cloud of questions blurring the rookie's mind, eager to hear what he had to say.

"Hey, Angela." he began, a nervous edge creeping into his voice as he ran a hand through his hair "Listen, don't ask any questions, ok? If Y/N calls to invite you out tonight, please, just say no" his foot tapped impatiently as he awaited her response. "Thanks, I'll owe you one."

"What was that?" Lucy asked as Tim pocketed his phone and revved the engine.

"I just made sure I have a date with Y/N tonight." With a grin, he pulled back onto the road, leaving Lucy to process his unexpected move.

[sibsteria]

hello, can you do headcanons of klaus mikaelson being a simp for you? 💘

yes of course, lovely!

Warnings: large fluff, a bit smutty, soft!klaus, protective!Mikaelsons

Summary: Klaus Mikaelson is the malewife simp of the century(ies)

not proofread, don’t kill me 😭🫶

the first time he met you, he studied you, up and down, I feel as if it would be at a Mikaelson ball, or maybe the Mystic Grill

I mean, eyes roaming

so our man just felt he had to introduce himself

he presents his hand out for you to shake

“I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before, I know I would have remember a face like yours.”

“Oh, wow, you’re charming.”

He gives an amused smile, a soft chuckle

“I prefer the name Klaus Mikaelson, please tell me what name could possibly match such a person of beauty?”

I feel as if he wouldn’t assert his name as Niklaus right off the bat ygm besties

he is leaving you blushing though

you’re probably a vamp so congrats, he’s got eternal dibs!

definitely lays a gentle kiss to your hand when you tell him your name

“I suppose I’ll be seeing you.” he lingers in your presence before slowly walking away

you’re just- astounded, who gave him the right to be so alluring?

I ain’t gonna lie to you, he went home that night and stalked for your information

he knows where you live, your next of kin, the bar you frequent

so an accidental bumpings into are already in his workings

“Ah, hello love, what a surprise!”

he’d buy you all your drinks, making sure to keep any eye on them if you left the bar for a moment if you’re human (you probs aren’t)

you would spend the whole night together

just chatting and swapping anecdotes

flirting

he charms you with poems, jewellery and just spending time getting to know you as if he didn’t know everything already

he will flaunt his money around

“I should take you to dinner, tell me love, do you enjoy pasta?”

if your answer is yes then well than enjoy your authentic italian dish! the flight wasn’t even too long

you had both fallen off the cliff, smitten for one another

when you’re dating he absolutely follows wherever you go

accidentally

but you know better

and you don’t mind, he’s always looking out for you

long parting kisses

I’m talking tongue, with his hand tangled in your hair

ass slaps as you walk away, making you present a shy smile

when your more comfortable around each other, you don’t hesitate to do it back

a faux shock face from the hybrid

“well, love, I never listed you as the kinky type. I do say, I’m quite impressed.”

get ready for marks

he litters you in hickeys, even if they might fade by the end of the day

he’s going to try

if you’re human he’ll have you wear a vial of his blood around your neck

for emergencies

and a fun conversation for anyone who comes on to you

if he’s in a heated argument discussion with someone, his face will immediately soften when you walk through the door

“hello, love.” a passion induced coma hoods his eyes

will try to protect you from violence and danger but he does know you can handle yourself

“Klaus, I can snap a neck like a motherfucker-”

“I know, darling, but why do that when I can do it for you?”

hours of cuddles

hours

just you in his arms, with his nose nuzzled into you

he’s a softy, really

you get along with his family, it’s a given

Rebekah is literally you’re sister from another mister

shopping sprees with her unlimited credit card

knowing each other’s styles

“How did you know?” She pouts as you hand her a pair of heels that she had been eying up

she’s just overjoyed she actually had a true friend that she can trust

someone she can rely on

you are inseparable

and Klaus is absolutely jealous

“may I please have my girlfriend back, dear sister?” an edge to his tone

“if you must, you annoying rat bastard.”

but you love them

Elijah is eternally grateful for your calmness

and your ability to tame the beast

“I must say, you impress me, Miss L/n.”

you’re utterly baffled

Elijah is not an easy man to impress

but your besties anyway, now 🙄🤚

you often pick up ties that you think would suit him

he smiles and shakes his head

“I do hope you insist on keeping her around, Niklaus.” he uses a low whisper to his brother.

“I don’t assume I’m ever letting her go.”

whilst you have managed to wrap him around your little finger

he won’t hesitate to rip someone’s throat out for touching you

say you’re at a bar

he left for a moment to answer a call, his mistake

he comes back, you’re face filled with discomfort and annoyance as this poor man would not stop verbally harassing you

but that was not enough of an action for you to snap his neck yourself

but as he’s walking towards the bar, he watches as the stranger lets his hand trail down your back until he reaches your-

Klaus has already sped towards him

grabbing his hair and tearing out his throat

his chin, neck and chest are dripping with blood

your surprised at the lack of screams around you, coming to the conclusion that he must have compelled the drinkers to not bat an eye at supernatural goings-on

“are you kidding-”

“sweetheart, don’t get angry-”

“I just got blood stains from last week out of that shirt!”

he pauses his spiel, a blushing smile across his face

you weren’t repulsed by the violent display he’d put on

“have I ever told you how much I love you?”

“on occasion.” you roll your eyes, pulling him in for kiss

the blood coats around your lips but you don’t mind

“I love you too, Nik.”

that was the first time you used such an intimate nickname

and he loved it

hearing such words fall from your mouth

you both get blood drunk nightly

but refusing to feed on kids, because you have some morals

and you push Klaus to erase after eating because why draw attention to himself, he already has a healthy crowd of enemies

and that is where Elijah expresses gratitude

if you ever get kidnapped on that one occasion you were caught off guard

be ready, the cavalry are coming

a crowd of angry originals, breaking down walls and tearing out hearts

“shit! I didn’t know she had all of ‘em at her beck and call-” one of your kidnappers scream, as he watches his cronies drop to the floor

“mate, I advice you shut your mouth, in fact- I’ll do it for you-” queue Kol punching his head from his shoulders, it rolls nicely onto the floor in a pool of blood

they had you on a vervain drip

“oh, love, I’m so sorry.” Klaus is by your side, ripping out the tubes, hugging you close

Kol is your annoying little brother, but mostly a sweetheart to you

you two tend to sneak out together, infiltrating house parties

“if Nik finds us, he’ll kill you!” you scream over the music

“he can try, darling!” he howls with laughter, a bottle of his chosen alcohol spilling down his throat

he does find you

“why in the world, did you think I wouldn’t notice you leaving my side?” he caresses your cheek

“don’t torture him, we just wanted a bit of fun.” you whisper, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth

“I suppose you’re right, I have faith in his protection, he loves you like family.” begrudgingly letting Kol off the hook

he has fucked you on every surface in his home

“not on the dinner table, Nik-” Beks

“I eat off that counter, pests.” Kol

“Is it a rule that you have to infect every piece of furniture in our home?” Elijah

*noises of disgust* Finn

*eye roll* Freya

still counting how many public displays he can get away with

he has tied your ex to a chair and made him watch as he gave you orgasm after orgasm

I mean, he murdered him afterwards, so-

“was there any need?”

“yes.”

in his mind, you’re already together forever

he lets you be in possession of one of his daggers, just in case his family give you any problems

“you know I won’t need to use it-”

“just humour me, keep it safe.”

it’s never boring

y’all he’s in love 😻

[k-evans-reads]

In Living Color

Chapter 4

Summary: When Natalie Marton, lead character designer for Buzz Lightyear, meets the voice of Buzz, Chris Evans, the sparks are undeniable. But when their work pushes them away from each other, both physically and emotionally, will the sheer differences between their worlds be enough to force them apart?

Pairing: Chris Evans x Pixar Animator OFC Natalie Marton

Word Count: 6,292

By: @k-evans-writes and @ourfinest-hour

We do NOT give permission for our works to be reuploaded, translated, or reposted on any other site. Our work is our own.

Warnings: None.

Previous | Main Masterlist | In Living Color Masterlist

April 2021

The shrill ringing of the phone echoed in Natalie’s ear as she rammed her shoulder against the rickety wooden door one last time, huffing out in frustration as it once again didn’t budge. She’d nearly forgotten about the dull ringing of the phone, resting a few feet away on a console table, until a low, warm voice answered, “Hello?” 

She sighed, rattling the door handle hopelessly as she replied, “Hey Chris-” 

But before she could get to the point, Chris suddenly laughed, his voice muffled as he said something – presumably to Scott – before he told her, “Nat, if you want any guac or salsa, you better get here fast because Scott is demolishing it.” 

Nat deflated as she frowned, staring at the one thing keeping her from getting to Chris’ for their planned night in, with Scott, Chris, Nat, and later on Scott’s boyfriend hanging out at Chris’ home to watch the Mariners play the Red Sox. “Well it looks like you guys are going to get it all to yourself because I’m not going to be able to make it,” she informed him, her voice frustrated. 

“Really? I thought you were free tonight?” Chris asked, and if it was at all possible, Nat felt even worse at the disappointment in his voice. “Dodger’s going to be pretty disappointed he doesn’t get to see you.” 

As if he knew what Chris said, a faint bark carried through the phone. She smiled to herself at the sound and at Chris’ hushed voice as he whispered something to Scott, but soon explained to them, “I’d love to come see him if I wasn’t stuck like an idiot in my apartment.” 

The other end of the call was quiet for a moment until Chris asked concernedly, “Are you locked out?” 

“No, I’m locked in,” she corrected, shaking her head in disbelief as she picked up her phone and walked down the long hallway to the kitchen and living room. “My doorknob is jammed and of course none of my neighbors or landlord are home on a Saturday night so I’m stuck.” 

“This could only happen to you,” Chris chuckled, but she barely paid it any mind as she dug around in her junk drawer for the screwdriver she knew – more so hoped – she’d put in here the last time she needed it.

“I thought about trying to climb out the window-”

“Natalie, you live on the second floor and with your luck you’ll fall and break both your legs,” Chris interrupted, almost chastising her. “Scott and I will come and get your door open.” 

She rolled her eyes, knowing they’d likely only do the same things she’d done – sticking a bobby pin, expired credit card, and a variety of other things in between the door and the doorframe. “Oh yeah, because you two are clearly geniuses.” 

“Alright smartass, would you rather be stuck in your apartment?” 

Nat’s lips pursed as she made her way back down the hallway, tossing the phone onto the ground next to her as she lowered herself to the floor. She surveyed the scene in front of her, the bobby pins and broken cards scattered around her. “...See you in a little while,” she relented. 

“That’s what I figured,” he chuckled. His voice was muffled as he said something to Scott before he returned to the call, adding, “We’ll be there soon.”

Knowing they only were driving from Chris’ home in Laurel Canyon, she knew it wouldn’t take them too long to arrive at her San Fernando apartment. Nat stayed in her spot on the Target rug, letting out occasional sounds of frustration as she persisted and just kept fiddling with the broken door knob, hoping she could somehow get it open but made no progress except in aggravating herself even further. 

Eventually, she heard two sets of footsteps pause outside her door. “Hey Nat, we’re here,” Chris called, his voice muffled by the thick wooden door between them. With one last ditch effort, she rattled the door as she stuck a bobby pin near the lock, but she only succeeded by jamming it further. “Have you made any progress?” 

“Well I got a bobby pin stuck in it which only jammed it more,” she sighed, slouching a bit as she stood up and studied the door. 

Chris and Scott were each quiet for a moment, presumably speaking to each other and organizing a plan. After a minute or two, Chris spoke up, informing Nat, “I’m going to try to see if I can get it to open from this side.” 

Nat took a few steps back from her door, making sure it wouldn’t hit her if Chris did succeed in getting it open but she ended up standing there and only saw the door slightly rattle, no matter the amount of grunting and loud slams of what no doubt was Chris’ shoulder as he rammed into it. She just kept sitting there, hoping to shortly see Chris’ face when he broke through the door but found herself still staring at the plain wood. 

After a lengthy amount of time, and no progress being made, Chris announced they were coming around to her window so she went over to pull it open. Once she’d easily popped the screen out of place, Nat poked her head out, the wind running through her thick curls while she rested her forearms on the window sill and waited to see the two men, and within a few minutes Chris and a dirty blonde – who was very obviously his brother – rounded the corner, coming to a rest underneath her window.

Chris had a smirk on his face as he met Nat’s eye from fourteen feet below her, his voice dry as he told her, “I don’t know what the hell you did to that door, Nat, but it’s really jammed.” 

“You’re telling me this like I don’t know?” She shot back, rolling her eyes. It was so laughably typical of Chris to be acting like this, when she was the one who’d been all but doing a work out for the last hour and a half, trying to bust herself out of her own apartment to drive down to his house. “Besides, I didn’t do anything to it! I literally just went to open the door to get a package and it was stuck!”

He rolled his eyes back, but the smirk and look in his eyes betrayed him as he answered, “A likely story.” 

“You’re an asshole, just so you know,” she informed him before she turned her attention to the man next to him. “Also, hi Scott. It’s nice to finally meet you… even if it’s from two floors up.” 

Scott had a shit-eating grin on his face as he laughed, telling Nat, “Just so you know, I like you already.” 

Chris piped up, a smirk as Nat met his eyes and he mentioned, “At least I’m not the only Evans who had a memorable first meeting with Nat.” 

“Okay are you going to help me or just make fun of me?” She finally asked, her hands flying in the air and wincing as one hit the window frame. 

“I was planning on both,” Chris laughed, but his tone turned a little more serious as he called up to Nat, “But I think Scott’s going to lift me up and I’m going to see what I can do from that side.” 

“Hold on, I don’t have pants on yet!” She called, moving away from the window quickly to head to her clean laundry basket on the kitchen counter, digging around for a pair of shorts.

She could practically see the smirk on Chris’ face when he yelled out a joking, “I don’t mind,” making her laugh and shake her head, not knowing just how true his words were. Nat quickly slid her shorts on and wrangled up her messy curls, allowing her to see easier before she poked her head back out of the window. 

Chris and Scott weren’t even looking up at Nat when she returned, instead they were distracted by each other. “Okay, lift me up and I’ll climb in,” Scott finally said, gesturing up to the window she was hanging out of. Nat had to bite back a laugh when Chris looked outright insulted by the instruction, a deep frown on his face. 

“Scott, are you kidding? If I lift you in, you’ll just end up sitting on the couch drinking beer with Nat. You’re going to lift me and I’ll actually get shit done,” he ordered his younger brother, shoving Scott’s shoulder lightly. 

“We’ll see about that,” Scott huffed back, rolling his eyes in exasperation once he and Nat met each other’s eyes. 

Nat just watched the brothers bicker for another minute before Chris finally took off his jacket, leaving him in a tight white tee shirt that had Nat drooling just from seeing those broad shoulders outlined so well. She’d never been blind to his appearance, but she’d definitely been preoccupied during the bulk of their interactions, focusing instead on the sketches in front of her and listening to Chris as he recorded his lines. 

But now the only thing on her mind was her eyes tracing him, her attraction having only been intensified by the sudden proximity as he’d shifted work projects, their relationship having gone from purely work to friends. But what was stirring inside her wasn’t anything she felt just for friends, and that fact seemed to become more and more obvious with each interaction they had. 

Her eyes were glued to him as he put his foot in Scott’s hands, lifting him up and boosting Chris up to where he could grab the windowsill, hoisting himself up and into the window as if it was the easiest exertion he’d ever made.  It was a bit of an ordeal as Chris jammed himself through the open window and ended up tumbling onto the wood floor, causing Nat to burst out laughing, earning a shove to her shoulder when Chris got himself up and walked by her to the problematic door. 

He bounced his shoulder against the door a few times for good measure until Scott called out that he was in the hall just on the other side of the door. The brothers messed around for a bit, with Scott pushing the door with his foot and shoulder as Chris all but tried to yank the doorknob towards himself and Nat. 

Chris’ face was bright red with exasperation when they finally stopped trying to manually force it open, frustration evident in the scowl on his face. He turned to Nat, as he rolled his likely aching shoulders back and asked her, “Do you have any fuckin’ tools here?” 

With a nod, she bit her lip, glancing around the apartment and telling Chris, “I think my dad left some when I moved in but I need to find them.” 

“No wonder you got locked in,” he muttered, a slight chuckle bubbling out of him as she blindly threw a hand towards his chest before she made her way down the hall to look in a closet. 

“Who’s the smartass now?” Nat called over her shoulder, smirking at the sound of his deep sigh.

Nat dug through the back of her closet, finding the bag of tools and brought it out to put on the coffee table. The sound of metal clunking echoed in the apartment when Chris looked through it, finding a hammer which he surveyed for a moment before nodding slightly and headed back to the door. She watched as he dug the back in between the door and the frame while he instructed Scott to push against the other side and after three hard shoves against it, the door finally swung free. 

She let out a sigh of relief, immensely grateful to no longer be stuck inside the apartment hopelessly. Now that she was freed, she finally got the chance to properly meet Scott, the three of them chatting for a minute until she realized she was still left with a broken doorknob and no way to lock her apartment. Nat ran a hand through her hair, silently thinking if she could put the knob back on for the time being but before she could think any farther, Chris piped in telling her, “We’ll go get a new knob and Scott can stay here and watch your apartment.” 

“No, it’s fine, I can stay and I’ll just call Mark or Jamie and see if they can go grab one and swing it by,” She brushed off his offer, but gratefully handed glasses of water to him and Scott. 

But Chris rolled his eyes, his stubborn, hard-headed nature showing as he muttered, “Yeah, like I’d leave you here like this with no way to lock your apartment.” 

Nat was quiet as she considered the offer, her eyes drifting to the hallway before they returned to Chris, biting her lower lip and asking him, “...Do I have to ride in your snobby Tesla?” 

“Damn right,” he chuckled, shooting her a wink before she grabbed her purse. She told Scott he was welcome to anything in her fridge and where the remote for the television was before she and Chris headed out of the apartment and down to the parking lot. 

They drove through the neighborhood as the evening started to grow dark but it wasn’t until Chris was standing in an aisle, surveying door knobs that she realized just how surreal the whole experience was. She wanted to laugh at the thought of telling someone this, that on a Saturday night she was in the middle of Lowe’s while Chris Evans found her a new doorknob for her apartment. 

But she almost couldn’t believe it herself as she watched Chris study the different options, pointing out a few to her. She was thankful for the masks they both were wearing as it prevented him from seeing her practically drool over him.

Working with Chris hadn’t been the first time she’d worked with a famous actor or actress, and he wasn’t the first one she’d enjoyed. But each time it had been just that… a work relationship. They had worked together but when that was over, so was their relationship and she had assumed that Chris would be no exception but the opposite had come true. Now that Chris was onto his next project, they seemed to only get even closer; their text stream constant and long, Tuesday game nights becoming a regular fixture for them both, and Nat had begun to miss his presence whenever and wherever he was absent. 

There was a lighthearted feeling that Chris seemed to always bring with him, making her feel happy but also so safe. The security he brought to her life was something she hadn’t expected, and the feeling of being wanted, that he truly wanted to be around her and actually enjoyed her just for who she was something she hadn’t felt in a long time, instead having been dealing with the deep rejection she felt from her broken engagement over the past year. 

But the worst part of all of it was that she knew she couldn’t have him. She had seen his face on the covers of many websites over the previous years and knew who he had been with in the past, and the thought of being with him was purely laughable to her. Nat knew that she had to push these feelings to the side, and enjoy the growing friendship they had, but take it at just that… friendship and friendship only. 

There was still a chill in the air in the late April evening, making Chris shiver for a moment, his thin tee shirt not doing much to keep him warm. He adjusted the hat on top of his head while he walked through the parking lot, thankful for the mask that was blocking his face and keeping anyone from recognizing him while he headed toward the bar. 

He was full into filming The Gray Man but was thankful that most of the shooting took place during the day for the portion they were in LA, allowing many of his evenings to be filled with the presence of a curly headed animator and this evening was no different. A couple days ago, Nat had filled him in on the plans they had for Mark’s birthday, telling him they rented out a bar so that their friends and co-workers could come out and celebrate but felt a little tinge of victory when she had asked him to come. She hadn’t outright asked him to come with her as her plus one, especially since he knew Mark and was very friendly with him, but he felt like they both knew there was an underlying insinuation that came with the invitation that he happily accepted. 

Chris headed into the bar, his blue eyes scanning the room sparsely filled with people enjoying the Friday night, but quickly stopped when they landed on a familiar frame. Nat was standing near the bar, having must have just come inside since she was pulling off her aviator sunglasses to slide into her purse. He found himself just watching while she animatedly spoke to someone he didn’t recognize while she wiggled her way awkwardly out of her denim jacket, leaving her in a cropped striped shirt and a pair of jeans that Chris noticed hugged her in all the right places. 

He sent a friendly but wary smile at Mark from across the room as he tucked his mask into his back pocket, his eyes moving back to Nat. She clearly was enjoying the conversation with the other man, Chris struggling to place a name to his face as he watched them. Nat pointed a finger across the room, towards the wide open doors to Chris’ left leading to the patio of the bar. She nodded as he whispered something to her, then laughed when he added something else. Chris felt his jaw set as he watched the interaction, that flare of jealousy when he saw the way the man’s hand reached out to rub up and down Nat’s arm for a short moment. 

Chris didn’t expect the intense feeling that seemed to burst inside of him. It wasn’t as if they were together, in fact he hadn’t even made a move on her yet, but seeing someone else being in the position he wanted to be with her, had him staring longer than he should have. He was so caught up in his own thoughts that he hadn’t realized Mark walked up to him until he felt a pat on his shoulder, “Hey, Chris I’m so glad you could make it.” 

He nodded, swallowing as he gathered himself before he replied, “Yeah, me too, man.” 

“I figured it’d be easy to persuade people to come with there’s alcohol involved,” Mark laughed, his hand coming to rest on Chris’ shoulder gently. “Have you got a drink yet?” 

Chris shook his head, forcing himself to tear his eyes off of Nat as she laughed at a joke. “No, not yet,” he admitted with a grimace. 

Mark nodded, looking at Chris carefully. “Can I get you something?” He asked. 

“Oh, no it’s okay, I’ll go get one in a minute,” he assured the other man, but before Mark could step away he asked, “Hey Mark, who is that guy over there with Nat? He looks familiar but I can’t remember his name.” 

“That’s Ryan, he works in character development,” Mark explained, Chris’ eyes trailing on the man – Ryan’s – face and remembering when he and Nat had run into him at the Commissary one day. 

“Are he and Nat like, a thing?” 

Mark was quiet for a few moments, long enough for Chris to shift his gaze over to him. “...You jealous, Evans?” The man asked, a knowing look on his face. 

“More like… curious,” Chris admitted, but even he had to admit it was a weak excuse. 

Mark nodded, his eyes following Chris’ to practically spy on Nat and Ryan. “Well I know Nat and I can already tell you that in about five minutes she’ll be done with that conversation,” Mark sighed, the knowing look remaining as he shook his head. 

“Really? Why do you say that?” 

“He’s a douche, kinda like Shane was. Ryan’s just smooth talking her and she’s going to figure that out in just a minute so just be patient,” Mark explained with a wave of his hand before he took a sip of his drink. 

“Who’s Shane? Have I met him?” 

“God I hope not,” he rushed to say, causing Chris to let out an unexpected laugh. “He’s her ex fiance but they ended things about a year ago. He lives in Europe now and is engaged to someone else.” 

Chris pursed his lips as he listened to Mark’s abbreviated version of things. “Sounds like a dick,” he finally surmised, shrugging as Mark looked at him in slight surprise. 

“He was,” Mark agreed with a chuckle. “But so is Ryan so like I said, give it about five minutes and she’ll be looking for a way to get away from him.”

Chris just nodded before he wished Mark a happy birthday before going to get a beer for himself, chatting with a few people while quietly lingering near Nat. He kept glancing over at her, seeing her and Ryan’s bodies getting closer together each time he looked. Chris couldn’t help but internally curse himself out for not making a move on her sooner, momentarily hating the logical side of his brain that had told him to take it slow. 

But it only took another few minutes for Mark’s words to come to fruition, Nat slowly backing away from him as they kept talking. Chris wasn’t close enough to hear what they were saying but could see from their body language that although Ryan wanted to keep the conversation going from the way his body was following her and how he kept reaching out to touch her but Nat’s feelings were becoming obvious with how she kept recoiling and wrapped her arms around her body loosely in a self-protective manner. 

He was thankful he had kept his eyes on her, allowing him to see her looking around the room, trying to see a way to exit the conversation but when he saw her anxious eyes land on his, he could see the pleading look in them. Chris quickly excused himself from the few people he had been standing with and briskly walked over to where Nat was standing against the bar, putting his hand on her back when he finally stood next to her. 

Her hip was leaning against the bar and she was running a hand through her curls when she nearly jumped at his touch, but soon settled when she saw it was him. “Hi Chris, I didn’t even see you come in,” she greeted, her tone a little too even and plain for Nat. 

“I slipped in just a few minutes ago,” he informed her, smiling a bit to make her feel more comfortable and at ease. Once she’d nodded, relaxing a bit, he added,  “It’s been too long since I’ve seen you.” 

She froze, her head tilting as she thought over his words. “It’s been two days,” she reminded him with a small laugh. 

“Which is too long,” he told her, his hand shifting around to squeeze her hip before he stuck out his hand and turned his attention to the man across from them, who was befuddled at the interaction. “I don’t think I’ve had the chance to meet you yet.” 

“We met one time, just for a minute, but I’m Ryan,” he greeted, jerkily shaking his hand. 

“Hi Ryan, I’m Chris,” Chris cooly replied, his tone a little too friendly, and by the way Nat tensed a bit against him, he knew she recognized it as well. “Nice to meet you.” 

“Nice to meet you too.” 

He nodded at Ryan, then turned his attention back to the brunette standing next to him. “Nat, are you feeling alright? You look like you could use some fresh air,” he asked, raising an eyebrow at her. 

But Ryan interjected before Nat could even begin to answer, his voice practically grating Chris. “Or maybe you just need another drink. I can go get you one,” he unhelpfully offered, clearly not knowing where he wasn’t welcomed. 

“No thanks,” Nat kindly rejected, her cool demeanor slipping before she sheepishly admitted, “But I could use some air, I think it’s just stuffy in here.” 

Chris’ heart felt like it was aching when he looked at Nat and the way she seemed even smaller than normal, her arms wrapped around herself protectively as she leaned into the wood bar, trying to shrink away from her co-worker. The normal confidence that Nat carried with her was seemingly gone, replaced with her frazzled demeanor at the situation. He wrapped his thick arm around her shoulder, pulling her against his side and felt his heart flutter when he could feel Nat’s body relax against his before they walked out to the empty patio. 

She took a deep breath, her shoulders rising and falling as she nearly shuddered with the action. But she remained quiet as they reached a safe distance from the small get-together inside, and before long he cautiously asked, “Hey, are you okay?” 

“Yeah I’m fine,” she brushed him off, avoiding his eyes. 

“I’m serious, Nat. You can tell me,” he encouraged, but treaded carefully. Nat definitely hadn’t needed saving, but Ryan clearly wasn’t the type who’d go without a fight. And while Nat was more than capable of doing so, he couldn’t have stood by and watched her struggle to shake him off all night long, and he wouldn’t have been able to live with himself if he refrained from stepping in and caused her further discomfort. 

But she shook her head again, then hesitated a bit before she rambled, “I’m really okay, I just started feeling really uncomfortable. I don’t know why, he didn’t even do anything but-” 

“No, you don’t need to justify it. If he made you uncomfortable, that’s the end of it,” Chris shrugged, and that truly was it. There was no further explanation or reasoning required, she needed an out and got it. 

Nat was quiet as she stared at her heels, a deep frown on her lips as she was in deep thought. “Thanks for helping me,” she finally told him, slowly meeting his eyes. 

He gave her a sheepish half-smile at her words as he shrugged, admitting, “You don’t need to thank me, I know you had it under control but I enjoy kicking a douchebag to the curb when I can.” 

“Really? Because if it’s douchebags that get kicked to the curb, why haven’t I kicked you to the curb yet?” 

He let out a sharp laugh, his nose scrunching as he grinned at her. “Well there’s no accounting for taste,” he shot back with a shrug. 

“Yeah that mustache you have is a great example of it,” she retorted, smirking widely as his Nat came back, making an appearance for the first time that evening. “You seriously should have kept your mask on, then maybe you could have landed a girl here tonight.” 

“I’m pretty sure I’m too busy coming to your rescue,” he shrugged, pursing his lips and suppressing a grin at her loud laughter. 

Once she’d calmed down, she pointed a finger – and leaned in against his firm arm – and told him, “Well I’m going to be too busy outdrinking you.” 

“Outdrinking a guy from Boston? Yeah I don’t think so. Besides, you’re like…” he paused, holding a hand up to his shoulder, “this big.” 

But his teasing of her didn’t get a verbal response, only resulting in Nat practically dragging him toward the bar where they each got a drink which is where they stayed. It was over an hour later and they still hadn’t taken their eyes off of each other, a few empty glasses in front of them, and were both facing one another on their barstools, knees resting against each other while they animatedly talked. 

He didn’t even know how long it had been since his hand had moved over to rest on her back, dropping down lower and lower until it had come to rest right above her jeans and thanks to her cropped tee shirt and how she was leaning, he felt her soft warm skin underneath his touch. Chris’ thumb was rubbing slow circles against her bare skin while Nat loudly laughed at one of his jokes, her hand resting on his toned thigh as she leaned in toward him, wanting nothing more than to be close to him. 

Nat pushed her empty glass to the side as she finished her mojito with a sigh, shaking her head as the bartender silently offered another round. “I’ve got to hand it to you, you can certainly hold your drinks,” Chris smirked, his chin resting on his hand as he studied her, unable to hide the blatantly longing looks. 

She chuckled, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear as she confessed, “It’s not my first go round.” 

“I can see that,” Chris laughed, his thumb moving back and forth over the bare small of her back. He moved his chin off of his right hand, reaching to take the last sip from his beer before he admitted to her, “I have to say, I barely recognized you when I came in. I was looking for those crazy curls.” 

“Every once in a while I can manage to actually tame them,” Nat rolled her eyes just as her hand landed on his denim-covered thigh again, just resting there as she smirked and winked at him. 

“Well I like it when you let them loose,” he shrugged, looking at her through his long eyelashes, his fingers tapping against her bare skin rhythmically. “It’s very sexy.” 

Nat raised a single eyebrow at him and Chris worried he went a little too far, but before he could work himself up, she retorted, “Sexy? Unlike that mustache of yours.” 

He laughed to himself, adjusting himself on the stool so that his legs caged hers, and began rubbing her back again. “Really because I feel like you’re kind of into it…” He trailed off and raised an eyebrow, smirking at her as she took a bite from the giant soft pretzel resting between them on a plate. 

“No way. The beard, yes. Mustache, no,” she mumbled, laughing along with him before she gratefully took a sip of the water that the bartender dropped off for them. 

“I’ll make a mental note of that,” he nodded, unable to take his eyes off of her for even a millisecond. His right hand moved to run over his face as he tried to get a grip of himself, but he was too far gone by now. He was so utterly fucked, and he knew likely everyone could tell, but he was starting to not care about anything or anyone besides that brunette in front of him, who was dabbing bits of caramel sauce from her shirt. 

Neither of them were even aware how much the party had died down until Jamie came over to interrupt them, asking for help in cleaning up. It almost felt painful for Chris to pull his hands off of her as they pushed themselves off the stools to help pick up from the party while the small group of people still lingered. He was busy stacking up a few glasses when Nat came over to him while pulling on her denim jacket, telling Chris, “I called an Uber so I’m headed out to wait for it.” 

His face fell and he froze for a second, but reached for his own jacket – long since strewn over an empty table – and told her, “Let me say bye to Mark and Jamie and I’ll come wait with you.” 

They made their way to the middle of the room, where Mark, Nick – his semi-new boyfriend,  Jamie, and Lauren were. After saying goodnight to each other and wishing Mark a happy birthday for the last time, Nat and Chris made their way back outside and into the night together.

“Well you certainly surprised me tonight,” Chris began quietly, shoving his hands into his pockets as they walked. “I would have pegged you for a lightweight.” 

Nat smirked, and the way her eyes twinkled rivaled the stars in the sky. “We Hungarian women are tough,” she told him, biting her lower lip. 

He looked at her in disbelief, almost incredulous as he asked, “Tough? Because I seem to remember you crying when I showed you that video of Dodger trying to play with a squirrel the other day.” He smiled as she laughed sheepishly, taking the chance to gently slide his hand out of his pocket and wrap his arm around her hip, landing his hand on the small of her back. But it only stayed momentarily as she reached for his hand and wound it fully around her waist, leaning into his side as he held onto her bare skin.  

Without missing a beat, she countered, “Okay, Mr. `I cry at a song.’” 

“Hey I’m sensitive and I own it,” he held his other hand up, enjoying the welcome weight of her against him as they made their way to the edge of the parking lot, just as she fished her phone out of her pocket to check on her Uber. He relished her not stepping out of his arms, instead huddling against him as the chilly night hit them. “I just didn’t expect to meet someone even more soft and sensitive than me.” 

Nat didn’t even look up from her phone, instead snorting as she sent the driver a message, telling them where she was waiting. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’m a stone cold bitch,” she informed him with a shrug. 

“I think you’re a fuckin’ liar,” he whispered in her ear, smirking to himself when he felt her freeze next to him.  “Besides, I think you being sensitive is sexy as hell.” 

As he slowly pulled away from her ear, Chris let his face linger near hers. He felt his whole body feel warm with his arm around her, holding Nat close against him but it wasn’t just the heat of her body that was making him warm. Chris just stayed right where he was, staring into her eyes as he looked for hints of her response but got an answer loud and clear when she stood up taller and pressed her lips firmly against his. 

It didn’t take him more than a second to respond, kissing her right back in the dark evening. He wound his left arm around her waist, pulling her even closer to him as her arms moved to loop around his neck, a hand moving into his hair. It had been a long time since he’d – and he hated to admit this – was genuinely this excited about being with someone in this way, the anticipation almost as good as the actual release. 

But Nat had made him feel that way since the very first day, in that tiny conference room in Burbank, one he’d always remember. He’d been hoping this was where their paths would lead them, but he almost wanted to pinch himself to make sure this wasn’t some fucked up dream he was having. 

The sudden honk of a car horn from the surrounding traffic pulled them apart much sooner than he’d wanted and he hoped Nat’s frown showed she felt the same, but he still couldn’t bring himself to move his arms away from her. They were quiet – giddy, but quiet – as they stood there, practically holding each other until he tapped his fingers against the bare skin of her back and asked, “So… am I going to see you this weekend?” 

Nat bit her lip, almost suppressing the grin that was threatening to split her lips as she told him, “I sure hope so.” 

He leaned down, pressing his lips to her forehead again before a car pulled up along the curb, pausing just as Nat’s phone buzzed against her leg, signaling it was hers. “Your Uber is here,” he murmured, begrudgingly pulling his arms away. “Text me when you get home so I know you got there safe, okay?” 

“I will,” she promised, not stepping out of his space quite yet. She looked at the car, almost regretfully, before she confirmed for one last time, “So I’ll see you this weekend.” 

“You can count on it,” he assured her, matching grins on their faces. 

Before she could step too far from him, he wrapped his arms around her one last time for a hug, squeezing her tightly. Then, just as impulsively, he pulled away from her, walking her to the Uber and willing himself to not give in, to play it smart. 

But the struggle was worth it when he shut the door to her Uber, despite the slightly pained look on Nat’s face. And as he watched the Uber head towards the 405, he knew in his heart that whatever was going to happen tomorrow…. It’d be worth this and more. Because she was the best damn thing to happen to him in a long time, and he’d be stupid to let it through his fingers when it’d just barely begun. 

A/N: We LOVE this chapter and cannot wait to hear your thoughts! As a quick disclaimer, we know that all the COVID restrictions and things like that aren’t 100% realistic but are changing a few things for the sake of the story! We’ll see you guys on MONDAY with part one of chapter five!

[lorna-d-m]

Chapter Five: Parent Teacher Conferences

Pairing: Laszlo Kreizler x fem!OC (Alice Greene)

Summary: Professor Laszlo Kreizler is a workaholic. Between teaching university courses, running the Kreizler Institute, and minding Stevie -his ward-, he does not have time for relationships. That is until he meets Ms. Greene, Stevie's English teacher, at open house. Can he open his heart to the possibility of love?

Word Count: 3,192

W: mentions of drinking, bullying/hazing

A/N: I unexpectedly had to go out of state for a week and then move into my on-campus apartment when I came back but in my time before classes started I got this finished :) Yeehaw senior year here I come

previous chapter

Although the university semester and the public school system did not line up exactly, there was enough overlap to swamp both Stevie and Laszlo in work. They were two sides of the same coin. Stevie worked his ass off studying and writing papers while Laszlo burned the midnight oil grading exams and essays. He almost fell asleep at his desk with his reading glasses on, trying to understand a student’s ill-conceived paper, when Stevie told him to call it a night.

Laszlo received an email from the school reminding parents, and guardians, the week after progress report cards the school would host a parent teacher conference night. He suspected it was to designate a night for all the overbearing parents to heckle the teachers after grades came back. After all, his office hours were always booked after midterms with crying freshmen begging for extra credit or another chance when they never did the reading to begin with. He always listened, some students had valid or extenuating circumstances, but he was better known for being unrelenting.

Stevie’s grades were excellent. Not valedictorian, but reflective of his work. Laszlo did not consider attending the conference until he received an email from Ms. Greene. 

Dear Dr. Kreizler,

I hope you are doing well, and I hope midterms have not overwhelmed you. As difficult as they are for students, I know grading is no walk in the park either. 

I’m sure you saw the school’s reminder about parent teacher conferences, but I wanted to personally invite you. I have some concerns about Stevie, and I would like to discuss them with you in person. If you are unavailable that night, please let me know and we can schedule another meeting. 

Thank you so much!

Ms. Alice Greene

Laszlo reflected on the last few weeks. In their weekly conversations, she mentioned she thought some of the students might be giving Stevie a hard time. He anticipated it would settle when the novelty wore off, but now he was not sure. Laszlo rearranged his schedule, ensuring he wouldn’t be stuck at the university or working at the Institute and miss the evening.

He asked Stevie if he would like to attend the conferences as well, not mentioning the email from Ms. Greene, but stating that if they were discussing him it was only fair for him to be present. Stevie declined and joked that with Doctor Kreizler there he had the best defense. Laszlo was glad Stevie still thought so, even in jest. Stevie’s only request was for him to bring back dinner after the conference. The refrigerator was empty after midterms, and he wanted to eat something other than eggs and toast. Laszlo laughed and promised to bring back whatever Stevie wanted. 

Apparently, Alice did not learn from her previous mistakes. At open house, the cookies she hand-baked and decorated were barely touched by the parents. And yet, she made cookies for the conferences. Alice decorated them like books, giving each of them a classic literature title, and arranged them on a cookie carrier. 

This far into the year, her classroom was not spotless and picturesque like it was at open house. She swept the floors again, finding half a dozen discarded pens and pencils, and rewrote the information she kept on the whiteboard. Parents and administrators loved to see objectives, standards, and assignments in clearly visible spaces. Looking around, she realized several of the desks never made it to their original places after their group discussions, so she rearranged them. A few desks positioned across from her desk would be suitable for the evening.

The first parent arrived with a sheepish student in tow, and she gestured for them to sit down and take a cookie. Neither did.

***

An hour later, Alice was dying for an iced coffee. She knew drinking one at this time would keep her awake half the night, but she needed something to make her smile. A few of her conversations were genuinely productive, exploring what she and the parents could do to better support the student, addressing her concerns, and building positive relationships. 

However, she had just as many discouraging conversations from parents insisting their child was right and she was incorrect. Bitsy warned her in a more affluent area the parents were more involved and typically more self-righteous, but her expectations did not match reality. They had the audacity to tell her all the ways she did her job incorrectly

She was tired, and she wanted to go home. Iced coffee wasn’t a strong enough drink, but she might settle for it on her drive home. 

Laszlo debated visiting Stevie’s other teachers. He performed well in their classes, and as far as he knew they had no matters to discuss with him. Still, since some of them were communicative with him when he emailed them, he decided to drop by a few classrooms. Laszlo kept his visits brief as he knew he was expected elsewhere. Additionally, he did not want the ice to melt in his surprise.  

“Are these the same recipes as before? 

“What?” Confused, Alice looked up from her desk. He stood by the cookies she no doubt painstakingly designed, and yet looked as if they hadn’t been touched all night. “Oh,” she smiled, “Dr. Kreizler.”

“It’s a pleasure to see you again, Ms. Greene.” His sheepish smile was genuine. “I brought you a gift, but maybe I should call it a bribe in exchange for some of these cookies.” He set the iced coffee on her desk and sat down.

“You didn’t have to do that. I would have let you take some home anyway.” She picked up the coffee and read the label. “Decaf? You are intuitive, Dr. Kreizler.” Alice reached into the minifridge behind her desk and grabbed the bottle of coffee creamer. Laszlo did not know how she took her coffee, so once he learned she kept supplies in her classroom he reasoned black was fine and she could sweeten it to taste.

His cheeks reddened, and he hoped it was not terribly noticeable. “I thought you would appreciate a pick me up without it keeping you awake.” She thanked him and urged him to take some cookies. Laszlo debated between them, knowing the flavor was the same, but there were implications based on the titles he chose. 

“Dracula and In Cold Blood. Interesting. I’m totally not judging you based on that now,” she laughed.

“As a literature teacher, what’s your formal determination?” Laszlo evaluated people professionally, and for fun, so he was curious about her opinion. 

“Well,” she took another sip of her coffee and smiled mischievously. He liked the way she crinkled her nose. “Dracula is a classic, and honestly underrated. It’s much more humorous than people think, and the original sotry is often overlooked. And In Cold Blood, well, you must be a true crime junkie. Based on a true story, but obviously dramatized. You probably researched the real case while reading and felt better for knowing the truth.”

Laszlo wiggled his eyebrows. Impressive. He took a bite of his sugar cookie. “And you? What books would you choose?” This was his opportunity to read her.

She checked her watch on her left wrist and playfully sighed. “I was saving these two until the end of the night, but I think you will be the last parent I see tonight.”

“I’m honored,” he demurred.

“And it’s only fair since I judged your taste,” she hesitated for suspense, “so I’ll take Pride and Prejudice and Count of Monte Cristo.”

Laszlo thought for a moment. Her first choice did not surprise him, but her second did. He grappled with the Count first. “The Count of Monte Cristo is complicated, and so are you. You enjoy unraveling plots, and you’re a sucker for a tragedy. As for Pride and Prejudice, you are a romantic, but with particular taste. You want to be swept off your feet as if you were in a Jane Austen novel, but that has not happened yet.”

He tended to push people too far, and Laszlo feared he was too blunt. Ms. Greene was taken aback, the nervous set of her mouth said that, but her eyes told him it was true. She stirred her drink with her straw and took another sip. 

“You’re very insightful, Dr. Kreizler.” She met his eye and held it. He never noticed the flecks of color and how they glimmered even under the fluorescent light. Laszlo wondered how she would look in warm light, candlelight, moonlight. A door slammed down the hall and broke them from their trance. “But, I think we should talk about Stevie.”

“Yes, of course. You’re right,” Laszlo agreed. He pulled a small notebook and pen from his suit jacket pen. At the top of a clean page, he wrote the date and “Conference — Stevie”.

“Stevie is doing well in class. I’m sure you know that from checking his grades and his progress report. That’s not what I’m concerned about, unless his grades start to drop, of course.” Laszlo took notes as she spoke. “I noticed that in my class at least, Stevie doesn’t have a solid group of friends. Which, some kids don’t and that’s completely fine, but there’s a group that has been antagonistic toward him.” His pen scratched to a stop.

“How long has this been going on?”

“Pretty much since the beginning of the year. I know it can be difficult when you don’t fit in—” Laszlo arched an eyebrow, but she ignored it. “— and I’ve spoken with him several times. I’ve done everything except go to administration which he expressed he does not want. However, if the situation escalates then I will have no choice.”

Laszlo sighed wearily. “I have noticed Stevie being quieter, less chatty, than before. On the other hand, he has been out of the house more, too, and I think he has friends in another class”

“I’m glad,” she said. “At least he has some support even if it’s in another class.”

“Stevie has support in your class. You’re an excellent teacher, and I appreciate you telling me what has happened. If you had not noticed, I don’t think anyone would. They lack your observational skills.” She blushed, remembering their earlier conversation. 

Having settled their official business, the conversation wandered again. She asked about his work at the university and the Institute, and he happily answered. Alice noticed his chest seemed to puff up with pride when he spoke about his students and he grew more animated. She enjoyed listening to him, and he made sure to reciprocate and ask her questions when appropriate. 

Alice soon finished her coffee, but she made no moves to leave her desk or pack her stuff. It was only Bitsy’s knock on the open door, and immediate regret, that made her realize how late it grew. Laszlo’s head whipped around at the knock.

“Just checking on you and letting you know I’m headed home. I’ll get out of your hair.”

“Thanks, Bits. I’ll talk to you later.” While Laszlo was turned, Alice mimicked a phone by her ear, signaling Bitsy to call her later.

He arched an eyebrow. “Are you close friends with Ms. Sussman?”

“She’s my work wife, and before that, she was my school sister. Bitsy is the one who told me this school was looking for English teachers, so I have her to thank.” For more than just the job. Alice doubted she would have met Dr. Kreizler any other way.

“It’s good to have friends nearby. As much as John annoys me, I cannot imagine working without him.” He chuckled and glanced at the watch on his right wrist. “My, it’s grown late. You can’t have eaten if you’ve been here all night.”

“What do you mean?” She giggled. “You saw me eat these two cookies and drink this coffee. That’s my dinner.”

“That does not count as a meal.”

“Of course it does, when you count the half a dozen cookies I had between baking them and setting them out.”

He scoffed. “That is not a meal. Delicious, but not a meal,” Laszlo teased. “Would you like a late dinner and to continue our conversation?”

Alice froze. Laszlo’s piercing brown eyes never left her face even when she wished they would. Her cheeks flushed, and she knew if she spoke she would stammer. A million thoughts ran through her head, and she would trip over the words. Alice desperately wanted to accept. Laszlo was handsome, respectable, and polite. An excellent conversationalist, and he listened to her.

Conversely, he was a parent and she was his child’s teacher. It was a moral dilemma, and it must be a breach of ethics. If anyone knew, they could accuse her of favoriting Stevie at Dr. Kreizler’s request, or even worse exchanging sexual favors for better grades. Alice imagined the red tape they would have to go through to be together. 

She took a deep breath in before speaking. “I would like to accept, but I can’t.” The expectant smile disappeared from his face, and it tugged at her heart. “This isn’t a good night for me. I need to check on Georgie, and you need to get back home to Stevie.” He twitched at the mention of Georgie. Alice couldn’t resist a snicker. “Don’t worry, he’s not my boyfriend or anything. He’s my handsome tuxedo cat, and I fear what he will do if I don’t feed him dinner soon.”

Relieved, Laszlo chuckled. He was such a serious man that Alice liked seeing him laugh. She admired the crinkles by his eyes and the way he cracked a smile. His whole face scrunched. 

“Cats and children are not so different. I know Stevie is perfectly capable of making dinner, but I promised him I would pick something up on my way back.” He checked his watch again and stood. “It’s late, and I should leave.”

“Wait, Dr. Kreizler,” Alice scrambled for a post-it-note and pen. “Just because tonight isn’t a good night doesn’t mean I don’t want to have dinner with you.” She wrote her phone number in pink ink.

He blinked twice and accepted the sticky note. “Thank you.” His round cheeks flushed rosy red, and she found it adorable. “I will plan another night, and I should let you return home to Georgie.”

“Goodnight, Dr. Kreizler,” she grinned.

His brows pinched together in thought. “Please, call me Laszlo. There’s no need for such formalities.”

“It’s funny. I still want to call you Dr. Kreizler. Goodnight then, Laszlo.”

He entered the hallway, conscientious that half the lights were dimmed to denote the late hour. His leather messenger bag threatened to slip off his shoulder, but holding a paper plate of cookies he didn’t dare fuss with the bag. Laszlo glanced around for a desk or a table in the hallway to set them down so he could fix it, but instead, he found the blustering figure of Coach Connor.

Laszlo gave the coach an obligatory nod and continued on his way. He did not visit him during the conferences, and his absence was noted. Curious, Laszlo hesitated in the hallway. 

He heard Ms. Greene — Alice! — greeting the coach, and he noted the difference in her tone of voice. It was colder, more rigid and reserved, but still seemingly pleasant. However, Laszlo recognized the difference with a small smile. She wanted the conversation to end as quickly as she could. It was only a minute or two later that Coach Connor reappeared in the hallway, red-faced and grumbling. He became the target of his frustration. 

“Get the hell outta here, can’t you see it’s late?” Laszlo stepped back, but Coach Connor insisted on being in his face. “You shouldn’t be here.” Laszlo opened his mouth to protest, but when he did Coach Connor knocked the paper plate of cookies from his hand. He stormed off, but not before Laszlo could cut in with the final word.

“I see she didn’t offer you any, Coach. Perhaps there’s a reason why.” 

Once he was out of sight, Laszlo knelt to the ground to pick them up. He was not the type of man to leave a mess behind him, and he would hate for her to see them scattered on the floor when she left her classroom. 

***

Laszlo returned home with a box of pizza from Stevie’s favorite pizzeria. He sprung for garlic knots and extra marinara as a treat and poured himself a glass of wine. Stevie commented it was later than expected, considering the conferences ended at eight and it was going for ten now, but Laszlo insisted it was because of a big party at the pizzeria slowing down orders. Stevie shrugged, not pressing the matter, but clearly not believing him. He regarded Laszlo with a suspicious eye.

Laszlo ate and spoke normally, but the sticky note with her number burned a hole in his pocket. He thought about what he might text her, or if he should call her instead. Which restaurant would she prefer? If he went too formal would she be intimidated? But if he went more casual would she be disappointed? Laszlo knew he wouldn’t sleep, but he did not mind. 

Alice scratched Georgie’s ears. He purred while he ate, and he did not allow her to do anything else in her apartment until he fed her. She couldn’t set down her bag, slip off her shoes, or fill her water. Demanding, but her little darling, so she gave him his regular meal and a treat. 

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and sure enough Bitsy’s face covered the screen as her call came in. They shared locations once years ago trying to find the right café and never undid it. Now, Bitsy could tell precisely when Alice arrived home to ask about her evening. She spoke quickly and almost tripped over her words. 

“What happened with you and the doctor? And don’t you act coy with me or lie to me.”

“Well,” Georgie arched his spine as she ran her hand down his back, “he brought me another coffee, but it was decaf this time since it was evening. We talked about Stevie, of course, and you know my concerns about him.”

Bitsy cut her next sentence off. “You know that’s not what I want to know. Tell me what happened after!” 

“Okay, okay,” she laughed, knowing she had every ounce of Bitsy’s attention, “we talked for a long time, and he asked me to dinner. I said no—”

“—What?! Are you crazy?

“No to tonight, Bits, not to anything. I gave him my number so we could plan something for another night.”

“Thank God, you almost gave me a heart attack there.”

“I’m not stupid. Maybe a bit impulsive, or foolish even, but not stupid.” She thought for a minute, knowing she had been standing on the edge of a precipice. Alice took the plunge, giving him her number, and she knew everything would change. She just didn’t know how yet.

Next chapter

taglist: @scuttle-buttle @fictionlandslanddreams @livvyshmiv @somethingthatsaysbubbles @hardlyinteresting @sapphiredreamer26 @aedeluca @alycu1 @linkpk88 @rachreads @fandom-princess-forevermore @groovyponypatrollamp @to-fat-to-give-a-crap @kateris-world @eli-the-thinker

[brightgnosis]

I honestly hate Homemaking and general Household and Spousal culture in the United States. Because our benefits through my Husband's work is doing a "Dependency Audit" the next two months and we have to resubmit "proof" of our status. Which isn't really a big deal except not only do we have to resubmit proof that we're married (normal), we also have to provide "proof of joint financial obligation and dependency"- specifically a document like "a shared Mortgage Statement or Utility Bill" (absolutely unhinged).

Like ... Not only do we not have any formally "qualifying" bills that we could submit as proof right now to begin with specifically because we live with my In Laws, and everything is under their name because it's their house ... Even when we did have the kind of bills that would qualify for this? We didn't even put our names on bills jointly then, and we never have to begin with.

The car is entirely in his name. Insurance is in his name. The house utilities were all in my name when we had them. We don't have a cell phone contract, we have Pay-As-You-Go (because screw Cellphone Carriers and their contracts and how they love to fuck you over). And we don't do credit cards (because scre Credit Card companies and their contracts and how they love to fuck you over) ... We have a joint bank account, and that's it; the Bank Account and the House (before we sold it; we haven't owned it in like 2 years at this point) ... Those have been the only two things we've ever actually had jointly in both names at the same time.

Mostly because I'm the only one that handles that stuff and he doesn't handle any of it at all. So why bother putting his name on anything (especially when things like Utilities will allow you to make the payment regardless of whose name's on the account)? But also because sometimes having us both on there dings us negatively because of my credit (thanks, history of abusive partners; we've fixed his credit. We have never seen a point in fixing mine, and I still don't). So for things like the Car, it was way cheaper to just put it all in his name, and we were more likely to actually get the financing. Especially when they're the things he's the one using and dealing with most often anyways.

We literally pre-talked all of this over before we ever even made these decisions. We decided this together, and it's just easier and makes the most logical sense to us? But for some asinine reason, the way spousal culture in this country works, everything is supposed to be jointly held together I guess, and there's no allowances for couples who aren't living alone (among a million other problems with my suddenly having to prove "Joint Financial Dependency"- which just makes zero sense as a whole concept in the first place because I have a legally binding American court document that literally says we are legally married and they're required to provide me with all of his benefits regardless of our status, because I am his legal Spouse. Like, that is literally part of the entire point of getting this stupid piece of legal paper).

But apparently I gotta prove "Joint Financial Dependency"! And now if I don't find a way to pull a qualifying document out of thin air within the month, I get kicked off his insurance and lose everything I'm legally entitled to having on account of us being married in the first place. And guess who's the one out of the two of us with the debilitating illness who can't actually afford to have that happen!

The most frustrating part of this is that the "head's up" letter we got from his company today? Doesn't actually list any contact information or the name of the "outside company" who will be doing the audit. Just an abbreviation of their name in a tiny little blurb about how "they'll send out more information once the audit starts". So we can't even call anyone to ask if there's any kind of exceptions, or what alternative documentation we could give. So the entire point of giving us a two week long head's up is completely wasted!

Not to mention the audit starts at the exact same time that I have to start appearing for my first ever call in for appearance for Jury Duty in 15 years of adulthood- which honestly just adds a whole extra level of stress to that whole situation. And it's incredibly annoying that I'm going to have to do both at once because for some absolutely ridiculous reason I can't contact the company until the audit starts.

I'd really like to ring someone's neck for this. It's absolutely unhinged.

[night-heron-writes]

Buddy Daddies Episode 9 "No Sweet Without Sweat"

~*~Warning: Spoilers for Buddy Daddies Episode 9 under the cut~*~

Overall this was a very cute episode with almost no angst, which means next week is going to be painful. We're entering the final arc of the season here, and things are going to ramp up.

The first thing I noticed about this episode was the background music during the scene where Kazuki, Rei, and Miri were asking Kyutaro to come to the field day. The music playing in the background was typical classic-esque music that would play in a cafe, but what caught my attention was that it was played in a minor key. (Don't ask me which key, I don't have perfect pitch.) Minor keys are often used in music to signal ominous things. If I have my music theory straight, D-minor is considered the saddest key. It'd be interesting to know exactly which key this piece was played in.

Another thing that caught my eye was the way the shot zoomed in on Kyutaro's face when his eyes narrowed, and then the immediate cut to the opening song. This does not bode well, and combined with the musical implications I am starting to get an inkling that Kyutaro will betray our protagonists.

Rei going overkill to secure a spot was hilarious and also very touching. He went out in the middle of the night to secure the best spot to watch Miri. However, the barbed wire monstrosity was a bit much. Plus the way he just easily vaulted over the brick wall? He missed his calling as an Olympic gymnast smh.

Also Kazuki's camera setup kills me. I grew up with a dad who loves to take pictures and has all the snazzy cameras, but even he never used three at once. Look at that telescoping lens on the middle one! Kazuki is prepared.

The discord helped me identify the brand that the cameras spoof off of. If you look at the marking on the camera, you'll see that it says "Milox", which is a spoof of Nilox. Here's a screencap so you can see it clearly.

I think somebody needs to tell Kazuki that this is not what people usually mean by "fun fact".

Absolutely dying at the fact that the daycare mamas still believe the whole "oil baron and washed-up comedian" story. 😂 What kind of fanfiction-type bullshit has Kazuki been coming up with?

Miss Anna is the MVP of tug-of-war. We stan a queen.

Poor Taiga has managed to make enemies for life out of both Rei and Kazuki. That child isn't going to make it to elementary school.

What really got me about this episode was that the leitmotif I've nicknamed "Miri's Family" started playing the minute Rei unfolded the scavenger hunt card that says "family", and it doesn't stop playing until the field day is officially over. I think that's the longest we've heard it play! I'm almost in tears bc Rei and Kazuki have realized that Miri thinks of them as a family. A big moment for the both of them, and the leitmotif makes it all even more touching.

But the post-credit scene. Ah fuck. It's October now, and Kyutaro has yet to either give the organization information or tell Rei and Kazuki. So his decision so far is not to decide? It looks like the organization is starting to get antsy and press for information. Kyutaro better abide by what he told Rei and Kazuki in episode 5:

One final note: It's absolutely hysterical how wrong my predictions were for this episode:

The daycare mamas' group chat pops up again, probably speculating on Rei and Kazuki's relationship history or how they got Miri

Rei and Kazuki get way over-invested bc they don't understand the idea of "friendly competition". (Almost a given, especially after that promo video 😂)

Kyutaro will show up at least once, likely in the post-credit scene

the post-credit scene will be the the only part of the episode that addresses the request for information.

We will get a hilariously over-the-top training montage where Kazuki and Rei coach Miri. I'm talking like on the order of the dodgeball episode of spy x family where the kiddos were climbing a jungle gym but it looked like mountain climbing 😂

we get at least one new important musical theme, or one becomes important that wasn't earlier.

I'm at 2 for 6 with my predictions.🤣 Maybe I'd better stick to the musical analysis...

[cookinguptales]

wwdits tarot: the high priestess

The third meta post in my wwdits tarot series! I’ll keep making them as long as y’all keep reading them. lmao

Because this came up with the first two posts, I just wanted to say that I’m thrilled if you want to use this information/interpretation to create cards. Tarot is largely a visual medium, and while I’m happy to talk about what I know about the history and symbolism, I’m not a great visual artist myself. I have no plans to create cards myself, so I’m happy to see what you come up with!

I only ask that if you use my ideas, you credit me for them and link to my work. And again, because it’s been asked — if you plan on using my ideas to make money, uhhh… just contact me, okay? We’ll talk about it.

Anyway! II. The High Priestess!

The High Priestess is often paired with The Magician because both cards deal with “magic” of a kind, but while The Magician is about manifesting your inner desires in the outer world, The High Priestess is about setting the outer world aside for a moment and looking within. It’s a card about intuition and the divine inner feminine, regardless of the actual gender of the person giving or getting the reading.

It’s also one of those very liminal cards; it’s about the inner world more than the outer world, but it’s also about the power to pass between those worlds whenever you like.

With all that in mind, I’ve chosen Lilith as my High Priestess.

Because when I think about magic, the unknown, and the divine feminine… why not think about a cadre of underground witches who steal semen for use in magical spells? lmao

I also chose Lilith because, like ghosts, witches serve as a lesson in-universe to trust your feminine intuition. Nadja is constantly talking about dangers that might befall the household, and she’s often dismissed as superstitious by the men around her. And you know what? She’s always! Right!

So trust your intuition, Nadja. Enemies abound in New York City. Five spits for an enemy, Lilith.

Finally, I feel like the witches in general but Lilith in particular do really symbolize the ability to shift between worlds. The vampires are really very hopeless at disguising themselves amongst the humans, but the witches are fabulous at it. They blend in seamlessly with the human world while simultaneously existing in the supernatural one, and they very literally go between these worlds when they descend into their magical… dungeon or whatever. And like any good liminal trickster deity, they’re great at changing their physical appearance.

They also have the ability to create a weird interdimensional space that they can trap (non-Spanish-speaking) interlopers in! So literally and metaphorically, they make great spiritual go-betweens. Lilith is the queen of the liminal magical space, and I love that for her.

As for the card imagery…

YEAH, IT DOES LITERALLY HAVE BJ ON IT...

This is technically a reference to the pillars of Boaz and Jachin, which were popularly repurposed as occult symbols at the time, but I think it suits our witches and their semen-stealing ways very well. :)

There’s honestly a lot of occult symbolism in this card in particular, and I won’t get into all of it. I’ll just say that most of it refers to different kinds of dualism. Light and dark, good and evil, male and female, life and death, etc. The High Priestess sits between all of these dualities, a midpoint and a path between. She can lift the veil, she can eat the pomegranate, she can sit between two pillars. You get what I’m saying. Our girl is liminal as all hell.

I think we definitely need to keep the BJ, but I would have Lilith in her witch’s garb between B&J columns in her underground witch dungeon/hip-hop kundalini* studio. Rather than her crown, she has her witch's hat. Rather than a sacred scroll (implying divine knowledge), my girl is holding penile surgical instruments. We can keep the crescent moon for the vibes, tbh, but I do like the idea of a hidden SALIDA sign somewhere on the card — for when you’re ready to return to the real world.

----------------------

*Fun fact: kundalini is a form of yoga that prioritizes the divine feminine so that's another point in the High Priestess column!

wwdits tarot meta masterpost

[sojutrait]

thank you so much!!! 😭💓💓💓hope u feel better omg fuck the plague

i just simply started making sims kdjfkdk

I DO im so happy season 2 has started it reminds me sm of old school sims 4 lets plays with storylines and such UGHHH im so glad that style is making a resurgence

thank u!! again im so unhelpful when it comes to advice on making sims bc i really jus Go for it 😭 i dont really have a different approach when it comes to making masc frame sims either

probably not bc its such a small action (like theres only 2 or 3 steps iirc) it just wouldnt be worth the hassle and i dont think that many ppl would find any use out of it😭😭

well,,,, tis the season 🤔

i highly doubt it dkfdkkd

i didnt its from the gallery! i just decked out the inside

ahhh i play on desktop but theres 3 and 4 columns for different screen sizes u can read more about it on the actual mod page iirc

my defaults should be good but my mods arent but i cba to update them rn 😭

( @simarcana ) TYYYYYYY she really is, i just wanna spin her around in cas all day and gawk dkfndk

my only tip would be dont dress them in clothes only if u would wear it/its your style. more so let it be a reflection of their character and their own fashion sense. theres alot of my sims id never dress like djfdkfkd but i know its something they would like !

NOW- DIFJDIFJDK me and nia orphyd have written many dissertations about... That aspect of dante's life but i will not confirm nor deny if that was included

im drawing up blanks too rn 😭😭😭 id suggest if u already know like the ethnicity of ur founder sim to just google last names from that culture and go from there, thats what i usually do dfjkd

10!

thank u omg but no i would feel bad if anyone gave me their money esp considering my tendency to like.. dip for weeks at a time DFKDJK also love u tumblr but i absolutely do not trust u with my credit card information

strip naked/bald, facial features, skin details, hair, clothes, repeat any steps if i dont like what i picked initially

( @thatoneplumbob ) no thank u for enjoying them !!! 💓💓💓😭😭

thats an easy one i dont JFKDJFK thats all neighborhood stories and mcc, i would simply die if i had to do all that myself 😭😭😭 i just pop in and give them quick makeovers

( @cutie-with-glasses-blog ) thank u so much !!! u have a great day as well 💓💓💓😌

i havent, im not a big marvel movie fan 😭😭 BUTTTTT i have seen edits and fancams of shuris actress and i agree i would also sell my kidneys and yours for her, shes so fine

( @wildsangria ) THE WAY I ALREADY FORGOT THIS DISCOURSE HAPPENEDDHFDJHDJ ugh throwback to when i gatekept the decades old tabletop rpg game dungeons and dragons

ive been staring at this in my inbox for almost a month and it never fails to make me laugh yet also feel horrified great job you two

WELL GOOD NEWS I DID and ive only made one hs so far!! buttttt it was before hsy so it doesnt work with the pack 😭😭 ill prob make one for hsy eventually bc as much as i hate building im also drawn to it like a moth to flame

thank u!! but ahhh no i havent been having any problems with uni

thank u, i hope ur having a great day too! tbh its not like something i put like... effort into if that makes sense KJDSK like for my gameplay sims no matter how casual i try to make it i inevitably start adding unnecessary depth into them 😭😭 like ill just be cleaning my house and think hmmm this sim hates this food or once had this happen to them, so pretty much the same approach i do to my ocs!

I ACTUALLY RECORDED A VIDEO i just gotta grow some bawlz and upload it 😭😭 its just a quick cas vid for a sim i wanna do gameplay with on there but im still peeing in nervousness

TYYYY i am doing well i rlly am 😌😌 im on winterbreak so YIPEEEE hope ur both doing well too!

[thelemoncoffee]

Can you give a detailed summary of everyone's personality?

detailed? no, summary yes

1: Zenko Nao (Furry) -He's perpetually tired, but still manages to be dorky -Insanely passionate about their hobby as a furry, which is how it ended up becoming his ultimate in the first place -They try hard to be extroverted, but due to having paranoia issues and the stress of being internet famous getting to him, they tend to be more introverted than he'd like to be -Very smart, but not where it counts -Prefers to snack all day instead of eating full meals

2: Hibiki Naomi (Poet) -Has really bad depression and prefers to be left alone.... no one ever leaves him alone tho -He's also quiet, really sassy, and hasn't the fuckest clue how to hold a normal conversation -Carries around the notebook he writes all his poems in and looks at anyone who tries to touch said book with murder in his one visible eye. -Due to a mixture of sensory issues and trauma, he cannot stand loud noises and will get overwhelmed by them -Despite this, he somehow manages to become best friends with Neiro.... a talkative drummer.

3: Yoshiko Kie (Geologist) -She comes off as shy and is easily spooked, but the moment you get her going she's a mean ass bitch. -She's like gasslight, gatekeep, girlboss but hidden under a veil that has a striking resemblance to Fluttershy -One of the least developed characters rn -She goes by Iko

4: Fumiko Umemoto (VA) -Another under developed character, but even less than Iko -She's a petty jerk who loves to snark, i still need to give her a not negative trait -She's also a walking reference dispenser and has a seemingly bottomless backpack or props she uses to aid in doing character impressions

5: Kazuhiko Ichigo (Surfer) -A laid back guy who is sounds and acts high, but has never done drugs of any kind, he's just naturally like that -So chill his aura calms others down, is entirely unaware of this -He's pretty selfless, and has a track record of saving fellow surfers before the lifeguards can. -He has no intent to be a hero of any kind and even hates being called one, but ends up frequently seen as one due to his impulse to help -i don't remember why this one is here but on the google doc i have my notes on, there's a bullet point under Kazuhiko's section that just says "mariocart"... so uh... mariocart?

6: Daiki Dekiru (Traceur) -Very much a dumbass, both in the stupid way and in the chaotic way -Peek himbo. stupid, strong, and very sweet -Loud and impulsive, makes you wonder how he hadn't killed himself doing something dumb prior to the killing game -he also has zero filter, as in not only does he say whats on his mind- but he also would share his credit card info unprompted -I got one acronym for you: ADHD

7: Ellodie (Hatter) -She's a walking Alice In Wonderland reference -She's openly very weird and presents herself as chipper, but also if you push her just right she can become super eerie -She'll talk your ears off if you aren't careful, but unlike Daiki she is excellent at withholding information -Queen of nonsense, but also super smart and has a knack for using her nonsense to make sense -Advocate for being yourself despite what anyone thinks, absolutly does not believe in the concept of cringe and actually takes being calls cringe as a complement- to her it's a sign she's doing a great job at openly being herself -MOST DEVELOPED CHARACTER!! i've worked so very hard on her and i love her so -Also she's the obligatory foreign kid, shes's from the British countryside. she tries to not use British slang as to not confused her peers but it does slip on occasion

8: Neiro Shibata (Drummer) -Resident "cool big sister" archetype -She's a bit emotional and cares deeply for people she sees are struggling (why she's besties with Hibiki)  -She also tries to be respectful but struggles a bit some times due to that aforementioned emotional-ness, she sometimes says stuff an back tracks when she realizes it upset someone -Uses her drumming as a way to vent her emotions

9: Jun Hanako (???) -Man of few words, he talks mostly in short sentences and lacks any kind of emotion in his voice -Don't let his voice fool you tho, he's a pretty happy guy, he just shows emotion in other ways -He's pretty hardworking and a big neat freak, if the others won't clean something up, he'll go behind them and take care of it -He is pretty secretive though, doesn't share much about himself and what he does say is so basic it feels like you haven't learned anything

10: Chiba Ayame (Hacker) -Protag's assistant/best friend -The straightman of the group, she actively hates when people cut the fool and wants things to be taken more seriously -Blunt as fuck, will tell you the fuck off and hurt your feelings if it means getting her point across -Resents people who can put their honest selves out there and not get hurt (despises Ellodie the most) -Wants to be seen as normal -Hacking is a guilty pleasure of hers, she has no clue how it ended up becoming her ultimate

11: Takao Hagiwara (Swindler) -Loud and totally oblivious to it -Has anger issues and a sass problem, but also is all bark and no bite. will cuss someone out but the second they get pissed enough to take a swing he runs off screaming -Very street smart, everything else... not so much -Will act on his intrusive thoughts if someone doesn't keep an eye on him -god forbid you give him a lighter

12: Masaki Jiro (Astrologist) -Protag!! -He's a bit of a mess, he wants to be on good terms with everyone but is also bad at communicating cause he's a bit of a shut in -Generally cheerful, but does have a mean streak in him that he's trying to work on controlling -Nervous panics, will spiral if someone doesn't intervene -Clumsy and tries to act like he isn't, he'll trip then try to continue what he was doing like he didn't just almost eat shit

13: Kasai Koyo (Lucky Student) -Underdeveloped as hell -Mom friend with the patience of a saint, it's hard to get her pisses off be even when you do she'll suppress the fuck out of it -She has the desire to help others but always feels out of place wherever she goes, being surrounded by ultimates makes this actively worse -Ironically enough, despite being the ult lucky student, she does not believe in luck, karma, fate, or anything akin in nature

14: Kobe Katsumi (Film Artist) -Do you by chance know Reggie Belafonte from Surfs Up? -Cause this man is just Reggie but human -Obnoxiously loud and showbizz-y, kinda sleazy -He's always trying to make things sound more amazing than they are, especially the things he likes -And contrast, he'll do everything he can to burn an idea to the ground if he doesn't like it -Every theater kid stereotype bundled into one shitbag -Also tries to pretend like he's more important than he is

15: Asuka Seo (Pilot) -Underdeveloped as shit -He comes off as snobbish due to how uptight and bitter he is -Dude's actually just super dead inside and wants to be left the fuck alone -Cares more about logic than feelings (cough cough trauma cough) -Do not try to provoke, you will regret it

16: Ohara Susumu (Toy Maker) -Just as huggable and sweet as the toys she makes -Very neutral in a "whatever works for you" kind of way, she'd rather do things others want to do instead of adding in her own suggestions -Has no real friends, her first ever plushie she made (Bridget, the cat plushie) is her best friend -Self sacrificial, if it benefits someone else she'll do it regardless of how uncomfy she is, she doesn't realize this isn't healthy behavior tho and simply calls it "my way of being kind" -gets anxious when people ask her about herself cause she isn't sure how to respond

[self-loathing-angel-of-thursday2]

Beautiful Spouse Rewatches SPN 01x05

Bloody Mary

“Oh fuck this episode”

“NO. WE CAN’T SKIP IT.”

“I missed the episode because I missed the intro; the intro is basically the whole episode at this point.”

“I like how it’s the Family Business but there’s no paycheck. Or is the Life Expectancy that bad they don’t plan to retire?”

“Hell yeah you do.”

“Bloody Mary is your mother.”

“I feel like I would also say how stupid this is and then just leave as soon as I said Blood Mary 3x”

“Daddy gonna die…probably. He probably deserves it though. Idk”

“Does Padalecki like Pad Thai? I wonder how many jokes he’s made over the years. Wait…JarPad is his self-owned userid for social media? It’s his own joke? You didn’t make that up?”

THE OHIO STATE UNIVERSITY SUCKS ASS. YOU CAN FIGHT ME. I HAVE SWORN AN OATH OF HATRED.

“Smooth”

Laughed at them arguing about the money from the poker game

Look at Jensen’s stupid face. It’s so pretty 👀

“They care about money that little? I know they keep scamming credit cards but still.”

“If they wrote this today, they would have to be crypto-bros or something; it’s harder to get away with stealing credit information nowadays. It’s an interesting thought”

“I worked with your dad. He was a porn star. Did they ever say what their dad did? How do they that it’s ok to say they worked with their dad?”

“Who is the blonde extra? She looks super interested but is very involved with her eyes.”

Look at Jensen’s stupid lips. 👄

“It’s hilarious how much you joke with Old Ladies how pretty I am, because Grandma did it all the time. Nobody my age ever said that to me, but Grandma said it so she’s saying it to be nice.”

“Why does it always sound like Jared is trying to whisper at your face?” Then heavy breathing

“We had to go to the bathroom…together.”

Laughed at the lady asking if the Winchesters are cops

“Some creepy kid gives you their phone number…”

You know what this episode needs? A gay angel 😇

“She’s just joking, right?”

“DEAD”

“Way to summon the devil, yo. Or whatever”

“That would be so freaky for your reflection to turn like that”

“What boy? Maybe she did something bad?”

“I’m already over Sam’s dreams.” 

“HEAVY BREATHING”

Laughing at the way Sam says that he’s sorry followed by heavy breathing and a breathy “I’m sorry”

“He shook his head and everything! He almost smiled too”

“Honestly I don’t think I could see anyone else in the role. You have to hate someone though, but maybe it just adds to the campiness.”

For the record, I don’t hate Sam.

“Fkn typical - Dean’s stupid joke and smirk.”

“How is this even effective? I remember the super gimmicky feature on those camcorders”

“How is this girl not protesting?”

“Oh nice”

🎶my butthole had a first name. It was Gary Bryman🎶 to the Oscar Mayer Weiner song

“OH WAIT NEVER MIND”

We both laughed at Dean’s face in the blue light of the laptop screen.

“He looks almost cross-eyed; he is way too close to that computer. They could have used a different lens. Idk the film school term.”

“Jared just played that whole line with a straight face. It was the face of when you fart, but when someone asks if it was you, you say it wasn’t”

Laughed at the girls in the bathroom “I agree with both of them”

“That’s a lot of mushrooms dude.”

“Is this the mirror heist one? Was that a different piece of art? I don’t exactly remember since there have been a few heisty ones”

“Back when there were million types of phone charging cords. Couldn’t standardize for shit.”

Laughing at Sam whispering and breathing

“But I can whisper at you”

“No” said very breathy and with heavy breathing

🎶murdered the boyfriend🎶

“I would have left his abusive ass dude. It’s fine.”

“Oh my god”

“Such sacrificial bullshit dude. If you were smart, you’d use the girl as bait”

SPN started out with Jared’s love interest dying and ended with Dean’s love interest dying

“If she’s going to die anyway, you might as well use her as bait. She has her secret; that’s why the thing is going after her”

“Just walking through the goodwill looking for the mirror. Or antique shop. Or whatever it is”

“Creepy ass fkn statues everywhere”

“Gotta blow a little bit of that fog to have that white cast haze everywhere for the flashlights to pick up”

I was saying Bloody Mary 3x and Spouse asked me not to do it since there are reflective screens are around

“What if there were a mirror nearby the viewer? Would it still work? If it was actually real then watching the show could have killed you”

“No officer. It was just a mistake. SMASH”

“GOTCHA BITCH”

“It would be fun to have a kill-ratio. Like if Dean has to save Sam then that’s a loss for Sam and vice versa. It would be interesting to know if that ratio was equivalent. So the kill-death ratio - which one kills in that episode? Which ones gets possessed ratio? Which monster kill? It would be interesting to see who is most successful on what Is portrayed”

“Ballsy. Idk if that would ever happen. That’s like the first thing that you realize in the show that this wouldn’t have happened”

FUCK THE POLICE

“This scene would count as an L for Sam”

“AND A WIN FOR DEAN”

What a bitchy thing to say, Sam

“OH! THAT”S NOT A WIN FOR DEAN! So you gotta evaluate it at the end of each episode. Or is it 2 Ls? Can they both win?”

“There goes the budget. AND SPLOOSH”

“See that’s an L for Sam and a W for Dean, because Dean did the saving and winning”

“Why is it bad luck? Oh.”

Me gushing over babygirl

“Way to be a fucking dick, Sam.”

“I can’t see Sam being the main character this early on. If he was supposed to be, then idk. I can see how Dean was supposed to be the comic relief, but they hired Jensen.”

[amjustagirl]

Love knows not its depth (until the hour of separation) 

pairing: Kuroo x f! reader  genre: angst / fluff, post timeskip! warnings: a tiny smudge of suggestive content wc: 4.9k m.list ~ taglist. ~

a/n: this is my rendition of a grown up Kuroo. life has been a little hectic for me recently, so i’m only getting around to posting it now. pls be kind and i hope y’all love it <3 

“I need a break.”

Kuroo continues to snore. You are unsurprised he doesn’t hear you. After all, he came home glassy eyed, smelling strongly of alcohol after yet another night of drinks with his boss before quickly falling asleep in bed. It’s what he does most weekday nights, leaving you alone at home to manage your two daughters and tuck them into bed. 

“I’m tired, Tetsuro.”

You are too tired to even tell him how you feel. You have a career of your own, two daughters to raise, a never ending list of chores and errands that must be done. You are a mother, a wife, a career woman. You have so many roles to play yet there is no space for you. 

You must do something, anything or risk your heart imploding in your very chest. 

You cannot survive that. 

The next morning, you call your boss, ask for a day off. Then you pack your girls off to your mother’s place with two little suitcases with toys and clothes enough for a long weekend before you take the train to Hakone, check yourself into the ryokan with a view of Mt. Fuji that you spent your honeymoon at - except this time, you’re alone (but then again, you’ve been lonely for so long, you hardly notice the difference anymore).

You dip yourself into the hot waters of the onsens, watch bamboo sway in the breeze. It’s been at least a year since you’ve been even able to take a bath uninterrupted. There’s always something - Aiko needing help with her homework, Fumiko whining for another piece of mochi, your boss calling to chase for yet another report, so all you’ve ever had time for is a hurried shower before placating your daughters or seating yourself in front of your laptop to deal with your boss. 

Finally, you’ve stolen a day to yourself. It’s absolute bliss. 

The water is kind to you. Its heat soothes your aching muscles, the rising steam steadies your breath. You walk out of the baths feeling refreshed, renewed, but when you enter your room you find Kuroo Tetsuro waiting for you. 

“I’ve been calling your phone all afternoon”, he says, face pinched. “I was worried.”

“Were you?” you say before you can stop yourself. “Really?” 

“Of course”, he says, uncrossing his legs to stand. “You’re my wife and the mother of my children, of course I care.”

Wife. Mother. Employee. 

The roles that life has handed you haunts you again. There is no escape for you. 

Your skin suddenly feels as if it’s stretched too tight over your frame. Your bones rattle, brittle. They threaten to break if you take another breath. Yet you laugh and laugh and laugh, the sound spilling from your lips filling the room, suffocating the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears. 

“If you really cared, you would have noticed that your wife is broken”, you tell him between bouts of laughter. “I tried fixing myself with a break but you can’t even give me that.” 

Kuroo stares at you, equal parts horrified and confused. He takes a hesitant step forward towards you before thinking the better of it, swerving over to the kettle instead, clutching it as if it holds the cure to your madness. 

“Calm down”, he says, “take a seat”, and you do. He offers you a cup of tea. You accept it, even though you’re still shaking from the aftershock of your laughter. “Drink”, he says, and you bring the cup to your lips, though you wonder absently why you taste salt in the bitter tea. 

“Tell me what’s wrong”, he begs. “Tell me what I can do to fix you.” 

You want to tell him that you’re not strong enough to do what’s expected of you. You want to tell him that you’re drowning from the weight of being his wife, the mother of his kids, from being a working woman that he can be proud of. You want to tell him that you understand his career is important, but so is yours, and you can’t carry the weight of the world alone. 

But that would take too many words, and you are far, far too tired for that. 

So you say blankly - “I can’t do this anymore, Tetsuro.”

His face falls. 

You should remember that Kuroo Tetsuro, first and foremost, is a child scarred by his parents’ divorce. You should remember that you made promises that you and he would never put your daughters through that. But you’ve floated beyond hysteria into a grey indifference, your mind too broken, too tired, too numb to consider him when you can barely even hold on to yourself. 

You don’t even notice the hot tears soaking through your yukata. You are deaf to his pleas to give him another chance. There is nothing left in you to give because you’ve poured all you’ve had into him, into your family, into your job. You are so, so empty, and you just sit and sip your tea and wonder idly if the warmth from the liquid you’re ingesting will make you feel a little more alive, or if it’s possible to ease the dull ache in your heart. 

It is only when you wake up the next day and the sun is high in the sky that you register that he rolled out your futon for you, tucked you into bed, and kissed your forehead as a goodnight and goodbye. But all of this is washed away by the relief you feel when you read the note he’s left behind telling you that he’s returned to Tokyo, and to enjoy your break. 

So you do. 

You relish every bite of the meals you have at the ryokan. It’s nice not having to cook or scarf down your food at your office desk for once. You fill your time flitting between the onsens and curling up in your room with a book, taking frequent cat naps until tomorrow comes around again and it’s time to check out and head home. 

There’s a brief moment of surprise when the reception informs you politely that your husband already paid your bill - but you suppose that’s just Tetsuro being efficient at racking up credit card points. The bullet train takes you back to Tokyo, and a couple stops on the subway takes you home.  

“Okaeri”, you call softly out of habit, not expecting anyone to respond, but Kuroo responds with an even softer ‘Tadaima’, striding over to take your bags from you and usher you into the apartment. There are pink roses sitting in a vase, but you pay it no mind. 

“The girls?” you ask, already headed in the direction of their room. 

“I picked them up from your mom”, Kuroo responds. “Don’t wake them up, I just put them to bed”.

A peek into their room and it settles your mind to see that your girls are safe and sound asleep. 

“Thanks,” you say, back in the kitchen, checking the fridge for what you can whip up for breakfast for you and the girls tomorrow. “By the way, I’ll pay you back for the hotel room from my own money, don’t worry.”

“It’s fine”, Kuroo answers, scratching his head. His hair seems a little more rumpled than usual. “I’ll cover it. I should’ve realised you needed a break.”

“You sure? You don’t have to pay for me, I’ve got money of my own.”

“No, let me pay for it, please. It’s the least I can do.” 

You shrug. “Okay”, you say gracelessly. “Thank you.”

He continues to watch you over the kitchen counter as you lay out bread, eggs, ham, cheese. It’ll do for a quick breakfast for the girls tomorrow, never mind the guilt eating away at you that you really should do better than feeding them processed food all the time. You’re so preoccupied with planning the morning rush, the best way to clear the stack of reports that must have piled up on your desk at work by now that you miss Kuroo rounding the counter to stare down at you worriedly. 

“You haven’t had dinner?” 

“Oh no, I had a bento on the train on the way back.” It’s second nature to you to brush away anyone’s concern. “It’s for the girls’ breakfast.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll take them to childcare before work tomorrow. Sleep in and take a break.”

“Really?” You stare back at him, confused. He doesn't even take charge of the girls in the mornings when you’re sick, your mother always has to fill in your place. He only ever turns up on the first day of school each year. 

“Yes, of course. In fact, I’ve rearranged my work schedule so I can take them to school all of this week at least.”

“Oh”, you say, brows furrowed in confusion. “Okay, I guess. Wake me up if you need my help.”

“I won’t”, he replies, with a cocky smirk that seems almost false. “Goodnight, love.”

You don’t think of Kuroo’s strange behaviour overmuch, falling asleep as soon as your head hits the pillow. 

Kuroo continues to act strangely all of next week. 

As promised, he takes charge of getting the girls out of bed and ready for school. But you’re taken aback when he starts coming home for dinner, completely floored when he hands you a whole armful of bath salts and orders you to take a relaxing, hot bath while he wrangles both the girls and the washing machine into submission. 

He even calls your mother to ask her to babysit on a Saturday evening so he can take you out for dinner at a fancy restaurant that serves foam instead of food. You manage to stumble through conversation with him - a commendable effort, since it’s been so long since you’ve even held a proper conversation with him besides snatches of discussion about the girls. 

At least until he states during dessert - “we can make it work if you want to quit your job and stay home full time with the children.”

The mousse on your spoon melts by the time you put it down on your plate. 

“Did the guys at work tell you it’s easier to have a housewife instead of a working wife? Are you saying this because you don’t think I’m a good enough mother to our girls? Is that what this is about?”

Kuroo shakes his head frantically, reaches across the table for your hand, but you yank it away with a glare. The extra rest you’ve gotten this week has injected a little more fight in you. 

“I try my best to be a good wife and mother, but I’m sorry I can’t be perfect and be there for you and the girls 24/7.” You press down on the sliver of cake with a vengeance. Clink! goes the flat of your spoon against the porcelain plate. “I’m sorry for being selfish, but I don’t want to be reliant on you.”

You regret your harsh words when Kuroo slumps back into his chair, murmuring “I just wanted you to be happy. Forget I ever said that.”

He pays the bill and you walk home in silence. He bids you goodnight with a crumpled smile. 

It finally clicks when you are startled awake by Kuroo’s shout of alarm. 

You roll over, grabbing his shoulder to shake him awake from the nightmare that has him in its grip. His eyes jolt open, and the sight of your face makes him sink back into the pillow with a sigh of relief. 

“Thank the gods you haven’t left.”

“Why would I leave? This is my home, isn’t it?” You mumble, turning your back to him again. 

You feel the bed shift as Kuroo sits up. 

“No”, he rasps, voice rough with sleep. “I was afraid you left me”. 

Oh. So that’s what all of this is about. 

You must stay quiet for far too long, because he gingerly crawls over to you. 

“Dearest”, he says, your heart suddenly aching because you don’t remember the last time you heard him use that pet name with any amount of affection. “Darling”, he tries again, pawing at your back. You shut your eyes resolutely and refuse to turn to face him. 

He doesn’t give up, even though the distance between you seems to yawn wide and wider with each passing second. 

“Are you?” he asks, his words small, shrunken in the still, dark room. “Going to leave me, I mean.” 

No, you’re about to say, the word balancing at the tip of your tongue but it feels wrong. Your break has given you the space to breathe, the time to think. It’s made you realise what you’ve said to him in the ryokan that night remains true. 

This week has shown you that Kuroo can do better as a husband, as a father if he wants to. But he’s poisoned your marriage with neglect, forced you to dress up your sadness in silence, allowed your resentment to fester and simmer into frigid indifference. If you reassure him that you aren’t going to leave him, it’s only because you’re too tired to, not because you actually love him anymore. 

“I don’t know, Tetsuro. Our daughters deserve to grow up with both their parents, but I’m not sure I want them to learn from my example that it’s okay to shoulder the weight of marriage, parenthood and a full time job all by themselves. Your dreams and career are important, I know, but I’m just so tired of being alone in this marriage when it was always supposed to be a partnership between me and you.” 

You hear him choke back a sob. You should comfort him, but the exhaustion you feel at being honest with him, with yourself, weighs your bones down, forces you to sink further down into your mattress. 

“I’m sorry”, he finally says. 

“I’m tired, Tetsuro”, you whisper brokenly, clutching the blankets to your chin. “I think I deserve better.”

“I know. I’ll make it better, I promise.” 

You want to ask him how, but your eyelids grow heavy, and you allow yourself to submerge into slumber. 

You’re not sure what to expect, but the ground beneath your feet shifts. Things start to change. 

Kuroo continues to take your daughters to childcare in the morning on the way to work as he did last week. That very weekend, he straps Fumiko to his chest, takes Aiko by her hand, and within an hour at the department store aided by a flash of his credit card, he purchases a dishwasher and robot vacuum for the house. He loads the dishes without you asking, runs the robot vacuum remotely once a day. It buys you time to breathe, a little more time to sleep. 

He doesn’t always make it home in time for dinner, but he tries his best to rush home so he can read the girls a bedtime story and tuck them into bed. 

“Dada”, Fumiko lisps, chubby fists wound around Kuroo’s tie. ‘I wanna hear another princess story!” 

“No Fumiko! Papa promised to tell us how he met mama!” Aiko prods Kuroo’s side with the wooden doll Yaku sent from Russia that you know he abhors. ‘Keep your promises, papa!” 

“Alright, settle down you monsters. I’ll tell you two stories if you promise to go to sleep right after that.” The girls cheer. “Now. Let’s see. A long, long time ago, your papa met your mama when she decided to beat him up because she thought he was trying to steal her food.” 

“You were trying to steal my food”, you interrupt, leaning against the doorway amused. “You didn’t stop til I stabbed you with my fork.”

He glances up, surprised when you sit beside him on the bed. Then he grins. 

“You left it on the table, dearest. What was a guy supposed to think?” 

“Mama, please let dada tell the story”, Aiko interjects with a huff. 

“Hurry up, dada! I want the princess story next!” Fumiko pulls at her silly dada’s shirt, pouting. 

You both laugh. There’s a soft smile playing on his lips when his eyes meet yours. 

Travelling all around Japan is still part of his job as a marketing director of the Japanese Volleyball Association. But now Kuroo pares it down to the bare minimum, makes sure he’s always back by the weekend at the very least to sweep the girls in his arms and shoo you off for a break of afternoon tea with your friends or shopping with your mom. 

“Will you be ok when I’m gone?”

You hand him his suitcase, a flask of his favourite tea. “I’ve always managed fine. Nothing’s changed.”

He bends down to kiss Aiko on her forehead, pinch Fumiko’s cheek playfully. 

“Yes. Well. I’ll come home soon”, he says, quietly. You startle slightly as he brushes his thumb over your wrist, lets it drift over your pulse point. “Please wait for me.” 

You glance up at him from beneath your lashes. “I’ll see you soon then”, you reply. His smile widens, his eyes are hopeful, bright. 

On the weekends, he stops flitting off for work functions and events. Instead, now he joins you for lunches at the kaiten zushi near your house, indulging the girls by ordering yet another plate of sushi just so Aiko has another chance to win a toy from the gachapon and Fumiko has another chance at feeling grown up when she lifts the plate from the conveyor belt. He stops ducking out from dinners at the grandparents’ place - both his and yours. Your mom stops giving him dirty looks when he actually turns up more than three times in a row with sake in hand. 

Once every so often, he even throws little parties for your family of four, going so far as to buy a frilly pink apron that makes your daughters giggle when he whips it out for the first time. After a few mishaps (and a number of frantic calls to Fukunaga), he masters how to make takoyaki and okonomiyaki, and in the colder months, he makes steaming pots of nabe and shabu shabu. 

“Itadakimasu” you murmur, and the girls follow suit. “It tastes good”, you say. 

He ducks his head bashfully, pink dusting the column of his neck. 

“Thank you”, he replies. “That means a lot, coming from you.” 

You start to savour the bubbles of happiness in your chest when you see how your daughters’ eyes shine when they see their papa whip out the pink apron. You learn to laugh when you hear the pitter patter of little feet, their delighted squeals and shrieks when they tell you the latest exploits their silly papa is cooking up - sparklers under the stars one weekend, a nerf gun fight, the next.

The weight on your shoulders grows lighter and lighter until one day you hardly notice it at all. 

“What’s wrong?” you frown at the sight of your husband dashing out of your bedroom, hair a frazzled mess. 

He whips around at the sound of your voice. “Oh. Oh.” He approaches you, slowly, carefully. “You’re still here.”

Your frown deepens. “My boss called and asked me to send out an urgent email. I was just about to go back to bed. Tetsuro, is everything alright?” 

He nods. “It’s fine - I just... I just woke up and thought you were gone.” 

You take a closer look. It’s dark, but the shadows of the night fail to hide the purple smudges beneath his eyes, the fine lines carved into his brow. His shoulders are bowed, his lips downturned and he looks broken, battered.    

Your heart hurts for him. 

“I’m here”, you say, beckoning him towards you. Physical affection has been scarce between you two for so, so long but he looks so distraught it’s only natural to pull him close, let him rest his head on your lap. “I’m here, Tetsuro. I’m not about to run off into the night – you know I don’t like the cold.”

He doesn’t laugh at your feeble joke. “Are you happier now? Are things better for you?” 

“Yes”, you say firmly, combing your fingers through his hair, rubbing circles along his back. “Thank you, Tetsuro. I appreciate it. I really do.”

You can feel him sag in relief. 

“You don’t have to work yourself to the bone for me. That’s – that’s never what I was asking for. If you’re tired, you need to take a break.”

He shakes his head stubbornly. “I’m fine. I can bear it as long as you don’t leave me.” 

“Tetsuro –“ 

He sits up abruptly, takes your hands in his. 

“Promise you won’t leave me”, he begs, head bowed. “I know I’ve been a shit husband to you for so long. It’s no excuse, but I thought - ” he swallows heavily, waits until his voice stops wavering. “I thought we were ok, ‘cos we didn’t fight, not like my parents did before – before my mother left.”

“I was too tired to fight with you”, you say simply. 

He nods once, jerkily. “I know – I know that now. When you disappeared that day, I didn’t know what to do. I went to your mom’s place and she reamed me out, screamed at me in front of the neighbours. I took the kids back, and it made me realise how fucking hard it was for you to do it all alone.” He inhales, closing his eyes as if the memory aches. “I know it’s late but I’ve changed, I swear. The girls need you. I need you. I’ll do anything as long as you stay.”

His fingers are freezing, but you do not pull away. Not when the desperation reflected in his irises makes your heart lurch in pain.

“It was hard”, you confess, and he shudders, struck in the chest by your honesty. “It was so hard, Tetsuro. You hurt me so damn much that I think I became numb to the pain. I don’t think I was really functioning for a while. For a long while.”  

“I’m sorry”, he whispers, and you nod shakily. 

“I know”, you reply, reaching out a hand to cup his face, a bittersweet twist to your lips as he melts into your touch. “That’s a chapter of my life, of our marriage that can’t be re-written. We can’t rewind that. But the past few months have been so different. I – you’ve shown me you’ve changed. And I think –“

You fall silent. 

He prompts you. “Dearest?” 

You recall the glimmer of light in your daughters’ eyes every morning when he takes their hands to walks them to school. You hear the echoes of their laughter, the lilt in their sweet voices every night when they welcome him home. You think of the tea parties he throws, the blanket forts he builds, the frilly pink apron he wears without shame and the bedtime stories he weaves every night.

“I think”, you say, with a smile that reminds him of the rising sun. “I think we can make this work again.” 

He stares at you until the weight of your words dawns upon him, and he surges forward to fold you into his arms. 

“Thank you”, he whispers into the shell of your ear. “I won’t fuck this up again, I promise.” 

“Don’t thank me, you silly man”, you nuzzle into his neck sleepily, draping your arms around his waist. “Thank yourself for making me believe in you.”

He laughs wetly, cradling you close as you fall asleep against his chest, soothed by his heartbeat and the tenderness in his gaze.  

Fumiko wakes you up unceremoniously before the sun even rises by climbing into your lap, and you open your eyes to Aiko pouting, hands on hips, demanding to know what’s for breakfast, and dada, dada, make a ham sandwich, pretty please with a cherry on the top. 

“You guys are little monsters”, Kuroo teases with dancing eyes. “Can’t even give your papa a break to snuggle up to your mama.” 

The girls shriek in dismay. “Don’t be mean”, you admonish him gently. 

He mock sniffs. “I’m cranky in the mornings unless I get a morning kiss.”

Aiko and Fumiko crowd the sofa, clamouring to give their papa a kiss, but he stalls them with an imperious wave of his hand. 

“This morning, only a kiss from your mama can chase my crankiness away”. His tone is teasing, but his shoulders remain tense.  

“Nonsense. You make it sound as if kisses contain caffeine”, you scold, swatting his arm lightly as the girls giggle. 

“Yours do!” he protests, and you roll your eyes as you press your lips to the corner of his lips, laughing when he puffs out his chest and declares his day can now start, that everything’ll be as right as rain.

Some days are full of sunshine, whilst others are full of rain. That’s life – but it’s bearable, enjoyable even, now that you and Kuroo face each day together, thanking the sun when it shines, and splashing through puddles on rainy days. 

Things recalibrate. 

The mornings are his domain now – he’s a master at concocting the most random breakfast items to satisfy your finnicky daughters. Aiko sniffs when she informs you that she’d prefer her papa to braid her hair, thank you very much, and when you shoot a look of death at Kuroo, he can’t even keep his face straight, his trademark hyena laugh erupting from his chest. 

You cook dinner in the evenings, appreciating the times when he can join you at the table, not counting the nights he can’t against him because you know he’s trying his best. The girls clamour for his stories every night, laughing when he teasingly scolds them for yanking on his tie, demanding goodnight kisses from both him and you. 

Now you force Kuroo to take some time to himself, shoo him off for lunches with Kenma, get-togethers with his Nekoma schoolmates. “I know you can manage it”, you tell him archly, “but you need breaks  so you don’t burn out, or worse – you’ll lose your hair and we don’t want that”. When he opens and closes his mouth without a smart retort, you smirk. You get your way. 

Both of you organise parties and playdates, inviting your shared friends – Kenma, of course, is a frequent guest, Bokuto, who brings along Akaashi and his sweet tempered little son (who Aiko always manages to pick a fight with, much to Kuroo’s amusement). You host Kai, who always brings offerings of flowers from his garden, Yaku, when he’s in town with his daughter, son and alarmingly fat cat. The adults congregate in the kitchen with food and alcohol, cracking good natured jokes at Kuroo and his frilly pink apron, watching the children cause a ruckus in the living room. 

But you cherish the quiet moments you share with Kuroo at night when the children are asleep in bed. The chats you have whilst soaking in a hot bath about your day at work, the snippets of stories he shares about his boss, his crazy colleagues, the warmth of his arm around you as you stay up to clear emails late into the night, the heated kisses he presses to the nape of your neck to distract you when he thinks you’re working too hard. 

It’s a good life. You’re happy, and so is he. 

A year slips by. 

The seasons come full circle. You return to the ryokan, finding peace in soaking yourself in steaming pools, watching the bamboo sway, the sun rise over Mt. Fuji. But this time, you’re not alone. You persuade Kuroo that he, too, needs a break - deserves one, truly. So you leave the girls with your mother and take the bullet train down to Hakone. 

He shoots you a smirk as you both emerge from the private bath he’d insisted on booking. You swat at him, pulling your yukata higher up your neck, scowling as he winds an arm around your waist to press you into his side. 

“You couldn’t wait til we got back to our room?” you hiss at him. 

He chuckles lowly in response. “Didn’t hear you complaining”, he retorts. 

“We were in an onsen, Tetsuro!” 

“A private one”, he says with a waggle of his eyebrows, laughing aloud when you try and fail to slap your hand over his mouth. “What d’you think I was going to do with my lovely wife? I’m not a monk, sweetheart”

You try your best to shush him, but his cackling manages to capture the attention of everyone in the lift.  

“What a happy couple”, an old lady remarks, within your earshot. “They must be newly married” 

You think she must be a little senile. Or a little blind. 

Neither of you are in your first flush of youth anymore - there are streaks of grey in Tetsuro’s mop of hair, extra weight in your hips and lines in your faces. No one could conceivably mistake you for a pair of newlyweds.

“Nah”, Kuroo drawls easily into your ear. “Just your regular old, married couple.”

You don’t speak until you’re safely in your room. 

“A regular, old, happily married couple”, you say, as he hands you a cup of tea. “That obaa-san got that part right at least.”

Kuroo chokes on the lump of emotion in his throat as you serenely sip your tea. 

The tea tastes bitter (as it always does), but the kisses that follow are so very, very sweet. 

[jangdeok-su]

You find Deok-Su after his absence (Headcanon)

Deok-Su x Reader

you were in a relationship with Deok-Su for a few years now, your relationship with him was like his temperament, that is to say tumultuous but you like it as on the first day

every time he went out in the evening, you weren't even sure to see him again the next day, you were fed up with this constant angst, it was a recurring subject of dispute between you two

one evening, he comes back full of blood (again), you immediately take care of his wounds before asking him where he was dragged again

"you worry too much about me, I'm a big boy you know" he said to yourself, "a big boy would understand by himself that you put yourself in danger for nothing" you growl at him

the day after your little argument as a couple, you get up, Deok-Su is already no longer in bed, but you find a note on the table: "hello my love, I think I have embarked on a crazy adventure , don't worry, you'll be fine. "

you breathe wondering what shit he got himself into again

the days go by, the weeks go by and you have more and more trouble sleeping, the minutes seem like hours

you discuss it with those around you, "you knew it would happen when dating this kind of person", "try to switch to another boyfriend", "it's better like that", these are the remarks you hear from your friends

but you loved this man deeply, certainly very violent with the others but a love with you, you always accepted everything from him

seeing him happy was the thing that filled you the most happiness, even if you argue often, you were the happiest

every evening you left the key to your home under the doormat in case he wants to come back

you were cooking for two, if he ever came back tonight

it was harder and harder for you not to think of the worst

all your evenings were punctuated by anxiety attacks and crying

one morning, you had lunch quietly, your eyes were still stinging you with your tears from the day before

you saw a familiar figure in the yard, you rushed to see who it was

when you saw Deok-Su, covered in blood, injured, but alive you rushed into his arms asking him if he was alright

he was barely standing but you put your legs around his waist and he carried you to your house

you buried your face in her neck crying hot tears

"I thought you would never come back" you mumble

"to be honest, neither do I" he tells you, explaining what he went through

you cover him with plaid, heal his wounds and feed him, while you look at him like he's the 7th wonderland

"how could you participate in a game like that?" you ask her calmly, there were no more tears in your body anyway

"look how rich I am now" he shows you the credit card with the geometric signs on it

"I would rather that you are alive than you are rich, you idiot" you say to him while taking his face between your hands

"now I'm both" he laughs and kisses you gently, you forgot the tenderness of his lips

while he's resting you run your hands through his hair, you forgot how handsome he was, you were so happy he came home

he opened his eyes with difficulty, and smiled when he saw you at his bedside stroking his hair

"I managed to survive because I knew you were waiting for me"

when he regains his strength, you will obviously fuck every day

he took fewer risks in his everyday life, this game made him wiser

since he reimbursed his boss, he has less worries

he notify you at each exit and keep you informed regularly

never want to imagine that he could lose you again

he sent insults to all your friends who told you he wouldn't come back

gives you a kiss every time he goes out

cover you with jewelry, gifts, flowers, treat you like his queen

a lot of his gang member get jealous of him

he offers you outings every evening

puts you forward as if you were his greatest pride

he buys himself costumes, he's so beautiful in them that he can't put them in front of you so much that turns you on

obviously he insults all those who look at you for too long

he let you use his card as you want

you bought yourself some lingerie and it turns him on when he thinks about it

a lot of women flirt with him but he says "do you think you have a chance?" and laugh in their face

he buy houses to have fun even if they are too big for both of you

he offers you to have a child to fill the void of your oversized houses

your standard of living must change but your love never changes

[jungshookz]

hwayoung’s two now and y/n’s allowed to be emotional about it, okay?

➺ genre; ceo!yoongiverse!! a little bit of yoongi and y/n being mushy for each other!! fluff!! cutest drabble for the cutest girl!! jungkook and jimin bickering like an old married couple as per usual!! 

➺ wordcount; 3.2k

➺ p.s. this drabble is approximately five months overdue and it’s basically been collecting dust in my drafts so i figured i’d finally release it into the wild since it’s mother’s day today and i thought it’d be nice to read something sweet on this special day!!!! happy mother’s day!!! give ur mom a big ol hug and a kiss on the cheek :-) and if u don’t celebrate mother’s day that’s okay you can still read this for a small boost of serotonin wahoo :D 

                                       »»————-　🍰　————-««

“i’d just like to inform you that if it wasn’t for the fact that today is hwayoung’s birthday, the idea of having cake as part of breakfast would definitely be off the table.” yoongi pauses before turning his head to look at you pointedly, “in fact, it wouldn’t even had made it to the table in the first place.”

“trust me, you’ve made that clear multiple times-” you roll your eyes playfully before offering yoongi a half-hearted shrug, “it’s not a big deal! we’ll just give her a tiny little chunk that’ll fit in her tiny little hand and then we’ll save the rest for later!”

“yeah, right-” yoongi snorts, making his way over to you to hand you a balloon, “you’re probably going to sneak an entire slice of cake into her mouth while i’m not watching-” he teases, digging his fingers into your sides playfully before wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you back against his chest, “you think you’re so sneaky-”

“hey-!” you giggle, squirming in his grip when you feel him starting to nip at the side of your neck, “this is not a very productive use of our time, boss-”

“hey, you two! are you just going to stand there making out all day or are you actually going to help me with the decorations?”

both you and yoongi peer over the edge to see jimin standing by the bottom of the spiral staircase looking very unimpressed and you flash him a sheepish smile 

“we’re not making out-” 

“yeah, well you might as well be-”

“we’re helping! we’re almost done tying balloons to the banisters-” you argue, holding the balloon in your hand up before flopping it around enthusiastically, “we-” you jolt when you accidentally let go of it, watching with wide eyes as it rockets around the ceiling before poot-poot-pooting pathetically and landing on the ground by jimin’s feet

whoops

“…yes, that’s very helpful, thank you.” jimin mutters to himself, shaking his head as he bends down to pick up the sad, spitty balloon up off the ground with a grimace, “when you’re done, come down and help me because this balloon arch isn’t going to make itself! chop-chop, people-” he claps his hands together as he wanders back to the living room to the half-constructed balloon arch

“you know, you’d think that hwayoung was his daughter-” yoongi murmurs lowly, twisting his neck to give your cheek a quick kiss before pulling away

“mm, tell me about i-”

“she’s mine when the two of you drop dead!”

you jump in surprise at the sound of jimin’s voice snapping at you from below and you and yoongi exchange glances before bursting into quiet giggles

“i feel like i should be more concerned that jimin seems to be very eagerly waiting for our deaths.” you joke, reaching for the bag of balloons and pulling out a handful of them

as much as you love your daughter you weren’t planning on having a super big birthday party for her just because..,., well, she’s probably not going to remember most of it considering she’s two and also it’s just the five of you celebrating at home, so you thought that a cake and a bunch of presents would be good enough of a celebration

of course, when you told jimin about these plans he looked like he was ready to bury you alive which is why he insisted that he’d take care of the food and the drinks and basically the entirety of hwayoung’s birthday party and told you that all you and yoongi had to do was sit back, relax, blow up a couple of balloons and also choose a cute birthday outfit for hwayoung

(jimin actually ended up taking over that part as well. he bought her a new birthday dress and a brand new pair of shoes to go with it.)

“everyone can relax! the star of the show has now arrived!”

the sound of the front door slamming shut suddenly shatters the silence and you smile lightly when you see jungkook sauntering in as if he owns the place

“good morning, kook.” you hum, jungkook looking up at you before offering you a lopsided grin, “actually, the star of the show is still fast asleep in her room.”

“oh, right-” jungkook snorts, dismissing you with a flick of his wrist, “i mean, yeah, of course this is hwayoung’s special day- but check it out! i picked up her birthday cake and brought it back here and i didn’t accidentally ruin it somehow!” he raises the big blue box in his hand with a beam, “i’m incredible!”

“that thing looks huge, jungkook!” you frown lightly, “i told you not to go crazy-”

“please tell me you didn’t max out my credit card buying a giant cake for hwayoung.” yoongi chimes in, leaning over and folding his arms atop the banister, “i hope you realise it’s just going to be the three of you having to eat it all-”

“it’s hwayoung’s birthday, i had to splurge! you know that ‘everything is cake’ trend? i ordered a custom cake and asked them to make it look like a giant cookie! but i also ordered a dozen chocolate chip cookies just in case she’s not into the cake.” jungkook smiles proudly before pausing, “…of course, knowing hwayoung, she’s going to love the cookies and the cake, so i’m not too worried. i’m going to see if i can shove these into the fridge-”

“what’s wrong?” yoongi nudges your side to get you to look at him, “you look like you’re thinking, which is never really a good thing-”

“hwayoung’s two now.” you blink twice before turning to look at yoongi, “she’s two.”

“yes. you’re very good at keeping track of our daughter’s age.” yoongi coos, reaching up to pinch your cheek playfully, “good job, baby.”

“two years old!” you gasp, turning around to lean back against the railing before shaking your head, “my god, she’s aged.”

“oh my god, you’re right. the ripe old age of two.” yoongi teases before gasping dramatically and reaching over to grip onto your forearm, “soon, we’ll be thinking about what elementary school to send her off to... and then the next thing you know, we’ll be helping her look for her own apartment when she’s off at university... and then you’ll be going wedding dress shopping with h-”

“stOP stop stop stop-” you wave your hands before covering them over your ears, yoongi laughing lightly when you frown at him, “i don’t want her to turn two! because that means she’s going to turn three… and then she’s going to turn four… and then five, six, seven, eight-” you pause and your eyes suddenly widen in horror, “she’s going to be a sixteen year old one day- what if she turns into a bratty sixteen year old?? because i was a really bratty sixteen year old and i don’t want her to turn out like me! do you know how hard it’s going to be if she turns into me? i used to sneak home at four in the morning-”

“let’s keep in mind that hwayoung is also my daughter and i was not a bratty sixteen year old,” yoongi interrupts calmly before giving your arm a reassuring squeeze, “she’s gonna be fine! and you turned out great, so give yourself a little bit of credit-”

“i just want her to stay two forever.” you pout, crossing your arms stubbornly as you look down the hallway towards her room, “is that too much to ask for??”

“when the terrible twos hit, i guarantee you’re probably going to feel a little different.” yoongi teases, pushing himself up off the banister before gesturing for you to go and join jimin and jungkook downstairs, “why don’t you help jimin out with the balloon arch while i go and wake our little miss two year old up?”

                                      »»————-　🍰　————-««

yoongi presses his lips together tightly as he twists the doorknob, being careful not to make too loud of a sound to accidentally shock hwayoung awake

the last thing he wants is for to burst into tears at the start of her special day

he peers into the bedroom, smiling fondly when he sees a little lump under the covers shuffling a little 

a chubby sock-clad foot pokes out for a second before it disappears again

“이게 누굴까요? [hm… who’s that]?” yoongi asks quietly, the lump suddenly freezing in place, “드디어 일어나셨네요… [i think someone’s finally awake…]”

he tilts his head when a messy head of hair pops out from under the covers, the corners of hwayoung’s mouth immediately lifting in a bright smile when she spots him, “우리 공주 좋은 아침입니다! [oh! good morning, miss min!]”

he lets himself into the room and reaches over to click the white noise machine off before starting to quietly pad his way over to her, his heart melting in his chest when her mouth opens up in a quiet little yawn

“잘 주무떠뜹니까… [gub moming…]” hwayoung murmurs, eyelids fluttering slightly as yoongi reaches down to push some of her hair out of her face

“잘 잤어? [hi, baby… did you sleep well?]” yoongi asks, leaning down to scoop her up, “우리 화영이 생일 축하해… 밑에서 다 기다리고 있어... [happy birthday, my darling… we’re all waiting for you downstairs...]” he whispers, rubbing circles into her warm back when she immediately clings to him, “머리에 물 좀 묻히고 내려갈까? 머리가 아주 산발이네. [why don’t we freshen up a little, hm? the birthday girl can’t take pictures with a bird’s nest on her head.]”

“딴바. [birb’s ness.]”

                                      »»————-　🍰　————-««

“i hope she likes the present i got for her.” jungkook mutters, his foot tapping anxiously against the ground as he looks up towards the top of the stairs in anticipation of hwayoung’s arrival, “i mean, if she doesn’t like it, there’s a receipt in the box so i can return it and get something else for her… but i really hope she likes it.”

“jungkook, she’s two. i gave her a wooden spoon to play with the other day and she was ecstatic.” you snort, peeling an eye open to look at him from where you’re lying on the couch before shutting it again, “i’m sure she’ll love whatever you got for her.”

“what’s the matter with you?” jimin hums, glancing at you for a second before focusing his attention back on sticking the bright pink ‘2’ candle onto the cake, “you look a little out of it today.”

“gee, thanks.” you snort, blindly grabbing one of the throw pillows before hugging it to your chest, “no, i’m fine, i just- i was feeling a little mopey this morning about hwa turning two and now i’m just thinking about how time has just flown by…”

“mm. it seems like it was only yesterday that i was holding your hair back while you violently puked your guts out into the toilet bowl.” jimin jokes, holding a hand to his chest before spinning around to face you and jungkook, “ah… fond memories that i’ll look back on for the rest of my life.”

“you know, i should’ve told yoongi i was pregnant in another way.” you suddenly change the subject, propping yourself up onto your elbows with a frown, “all i did was give him a tiny cookie. how lame is that?!”

“to be fair, you didn’t know how he was going to react, so maybe it was a good thing you went for something so simple!” jimin shrugs, making his way over to you before sticking his hand out for you to take, “c’mon, miss mopey. hwayoung probably doesn’t want to see you throwing yourself a pity party on her special day when she comes down here.”

                                     »»————-　🍰　————-««

“-화영이가 엄마한테가서 이쁜짓 해주는 거 어떨까? [-now, mama is feeling very emotional today, so i think it’d be a really good idea to act extra cute, okay?]” yoongi whispers to hwayoung, planting a quick kiss on her cheek while slowly making his way down the stairs, “of course, that probably isn’t going to be a problem for you, seeing that you’re adorable 24/7-”

“i adowbo.” hwayoung murmurs, leaning down and squishing her cheek against yoongi’s shoulder, “졸려. [i seepy.]”

“졸리다고? [sleepy?]” yoongi pauses on the steps, reaching up to adjust one of her pigtails with a smile, “이거 큰일났네, 졸리면 어떡해! [you can’t be sleepy for your morning conference. look alive!]”

“is that the sleepy little birthday girl?” 

yoongi looks down to see you waiting eagerly at the bottom of the stairs, your hands clasped together and your eyes glued on hwayoung, “good morning!”

“mama!” hwayoung immediately twists around in yoongi’s arms at the sound of your voice, reaching out for you with a teethy grin as soon as yoongi gets close enough to you

“oh, happy birthday, my sweet little baby!“ you coo as you take her into your arms, squishing multiple kisses to her chubby cheek as you hold her close, “happy happy birthday, my beautiful girl…”

“ahppa bouday!” hwayoung giggles, little hands patting against your face

she leans in and smushes her nose against yours before giving you a drooly kiss on the cheek and you can’t help but laugh at how affectionate she’s being with you

see??

you want to keep her like this forever and it sucks to think about the fact that one day you’re going to set her down on the ground after carrying her and you’ll never pick her up again because she won’t need you to pick her up again

:-(

“oh…” you sniffle, suddenly feeling your nose prickle and your eyes starting to get a little tingly, “i love you so much…”

you don’t get much of a chance to say anything else before hwayoung’s suddenly being plucked from your arms, both jimin and jungkook immediately starting to fawn over her as per usual

“우리 화영이, 공주님이 따로 없네! [look at how beautiful you are in your dress!]” jimin exclaims animatedly, hwayoung clapping her hands together in response

her dress is sage green and gingham and it even came with matching ribbons for her hair and you have to admit that jimin made a pretty good choice with this birthday outfit

you probably would’ve stuck her in a pair of overalls or something

“see, what’d i say?” jimin smiles proudly, smoothing down the back of hwayoung’s dress before looking over at jungkook, “i told you the sage green was cuter- 아니 빨간 걸 왜 입혀 뭐 애를 도마로 만들 생각이니- [the red one that you wanted to go with would’ve made her look like a picnic blanket-]”

“아니 도마라니! [red gingham is classy!]” jungkook argues, trailing behind jimin while making faces at hwayoung to get her to laugh, “입혀보지도 않고- [you didn’t even give it a chance-]”

“난 그딴 거 염두에 두지 않는다 정국아- [i don’t need to give tacky garbage a chance, jungkook-]”

“hey, are you okay?” yoongi gives you a quick hug and kiss on the side of your head when he suddenly notices a tear running down your cheek, “she’s just turning two, y/n... she’s not moving out of the country-”

“i know, i know-“ you sniffle, reaching up to quickly wipe at your tears before chuckling, “i guess i’m just feeling extra emotional today-”

“c’mon, parents!” jimin calls out for you two while setting hwayoung down in her high chair, “the candle is melting and this cake is too expensive to get any wax dripped on it-”

“gookee!” hwayoung points to the cake and claps her hands as she bounces up and down on her seat, “gookee, mama!”

“yeah! cookie!” you mimic enthusiastically, smiling widely when she suddenly lets out a high-pitched squeal of excitement, her nose scrunching particularly cutely, “i’m glad to see that you inherited my love for cookies and not appa’s love for muesli.”

yoongi immediately scoffs and reaches down to give your bum a quick swat

“i know she’s saying cookie, but i’m just going to go ahead and say that she’s actually saying the name of her favourite uncle-” jungkook sighs, reaching down to pinch hwayoung’s cheek, “화영이는 꾹이 삼촌 제일 좋아하- [uncle gookee is your forever favourite-]”

“어 응 뉘에- [yeah, okay, whatever helps you sleep at night-]” jimin snorts, shoving the camera into his hands as the four of you stand in front of hwayoung, “okay, don’t touch the cake yet! let’s get some pretty pictures of the birthday girl first!”

“hwa, look into the camera!” jungkook coos, snapping his fingers to get her to look up at him, “그래 삼촌 한 번만 봐 봐- [look at uncle goo- yeah, there we go-]”  

you watch hwayoung fondly as she continues to ham it up for the camera, her little legs kicking in anticipation under the tray

“good girl, you’re being so patient.” you hum before reaching over to pluck a cookie from the open box, “ooh, i’ve been dying to sink my teeth into one of these-” 

“i had one earlier, they’re pretty good!” jimin nods, brushing past jungkook to get to you, “the bakery i ordered them from has, like five out of five stars one google review- hey, what’s that face for?”

“eugh- do the cookies taste a little funky to you?” you face screws up as you swallow the bite before holding the cookie up to take a closer look at it, “it’s just chocolate chip, right?”

“yeah- hold on, lemme try-” jimin frowns, reaching over to steal your cookie before taking a bite of it and chewing thoughtfully

“maybe you just got a weird one?” yoongi suggests, peering into the box with a frown, “all cookies taste funky to me, so my opinion probably isn’t valid here-”

“it’s fine, i’ll try another one later-” you dust your fingers off before perking up and clapping your hands together, “hey, should yoongi and i hop in for some pictures before hwa completely destroys the entire cake?”

“yeah, it… might be a little too late for that.” jungkook clears his throat and the three of you look over to see hwayoung’s tubby arms shoved elbow deep into the cake, “i gave her the green light to go ahead and eat. she just looked so sad and hungry, i’m sorry!”

hwayoung cackles in glee as she continues slapping her hand against the cake, her grubby little hands now sticky and her new dress stained with globs of frosting chocolate

“oh my god.” you stifle a laugh and reach up to cover your mouth so that you don’t burst out laughing at the fact that both jimin and yoongi look absolutely appalled

“i spent, like, ten minutes doing her hair-” yoongi whines, gently nudging you aside so he can hurry over to hwayoung and try to salvage the neat little pigtails he spent forever working on, “and now there’s frosting everywhere!”

“that dress was expensive, jungkook!” jimin snaps, and if you didn’t know any better you’d think he was about to burst into tears, “and i didn’t even get any nice pictures with her before she- come on, man-”

“i’m sorry!”

“ahppy bodday!” hwayoung shrieks in delight and flings her arms up, chunks of cake and specks of frosting flicking out from her hands, “i adowbo!”

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[misha-moose-dean-burger-lover]

outsider pov deancas, 2.4k, based after the good finale. for @bloodsigilsandpie <3

"it's happening."

natasha returns to the kitchen, her otherwise suppressed glee betrayed by the glint in her eyes as she declares to the entire room. "they're on a date."

chloe's the first to react, or rather, the spoons in her hand that promptly drop back into the foam are. "no way."

"way." farah rushes close to natasha, gushing. "did they tell you?"

natasha sniffs, depositing the plates in the sink with her back turned to her eager audience.

"do you think they told me?"

she doesn't wait for an answer, turning around and leaning back against the counter.

"of course they didn't tell me. but i," she smirks. "i could tell."

"oh, you could tell." hutch repeats mockingly, and a few others snicker. "nat, we're talking about the trenchcoat dude who never smiles, and big-car-black-coffee-loyal-to-the-pie guy. no one has ever been able to tell anything with those two. and they don't look anything more than unlikely work friends to me either."

"unlikely work friends don't look at each other like that!" farah chastises immediately.

"fine. unlikely work friends with repressed homosexual urges from the 80's."

"hutch, if you're going to insult my date-dar, do it to my face!" natasha scowls, earning herself another eyeroll and a defensive palms-up gesture from the skeptic sous-chef.

"he literally just did." chloe mutters, ever the devil's advocate, before farah interrupts. she'd always been their resident 'trenchcoat dude who never smiles and big-car-black-coffee-loyal-to-the-pie guy' shipper. there tend to be one of those for all such couples the waitstaff discusses on the regular, really.

"so, how can you tell? what's different?"

"well for one," natasha grins. "trenchcoat dude's not wearing his trenchcoat."

a commotion of gasps come up from arguably most stations of the kitchen — even those who weren't a part of the discussion before.

"is it on the back of his chair? did car-guy help him take it off?" farah instantly pipes up, her eyes wide and hopeful. (hutch and her are the newest waiters, natasha remembers with a midge of distaste. sometimes it's too obvious.)

"no. it's nowhere in sight." she admits, eyebrows raised.

"maybe it ripped." that's hutch.

"maybe he finally realized that thing was doing nothing for him." dallas. everybody knows he's got a thing for trench coat dude though, so nobody bats an eye.

"maybe car-guy told him." chloe shrugs.

"hey, maybe somebody else did." hutch again.

"that's not the point." natasha butts in. "car-guy's better dressed too. i don't know much about old people fashion — chloe, if you don't stop looking at me like that — but i think ascots are supposed to be fancy."

"he wore a what —" several voices echo, and just then, freya enters the kitchen, beaming. (second year at the diner, loads of tattoos, and has a lovely girlfriend at the domino's across the street. natasha likes her.)

"you guys'll never guess what happened."

hutch and dallas sigh in unison, and farah giggles a little. "you won't guess what happened here either!"

"me first. trenchcoat dude and car-guy are on a date."

chloe snorts, picking up two prepared plates of food from one of the side chef's stations, and setting off out the door freya just entered from. important to find a job-gossip balance and all that.

natasha turns to the new informant. "what did you see?"

"car-guy asked trenchcoat what he wanted for dessert." freya beams.

"this just in, men can learn manners." hutch inputs before exiting with his own tray.

"car-guy might always order the pie but it looks mutual!" farah points out indignantly but he's gone already.

nevermind, he'll be back in five.

"and what did trenchcoat say?" natasha asks, ignoring the other two.

"milkshake," freya replies, writing it on a post-it as she says it.

"one shake, two straws." farah gasps. "come on, frey. tell me it was one shake, two straws."

"two shakes, two straws." she scribbles away.

"maybe they're gonna share both." farah quickly supplies.

"nobody does that, farah." dallas retorts, and natasha makes a face at him, not willing to kill the former's hopes just yet. farah tends to get this forlorn look on her face when things go wrong — and it always reminds natasha of her dead cousin.

she clears her throat.

"look, it can be a date without the shared milkshake, people." a few thoughtful sounds come up, the gates swing, and chloe walks back in. "plus, we've still got all the staring, the lingering looks over the menu, the soulful eyefu —"

"but that's everyday, nat." freya sighs.

"it's different today —"

"— you know it isn't —"

"— and i can prove it." natasha finishes, earning herself looks of surprise from almost everyone around. she can, though. the diner's got a valentines discount on milkshakes all month, she can approach them about it. trenchcoat and car-guy don't have to know it's not just for couples. and on the (really, really) offchance that they aren't one, natasha could always just minus the discount from the total anyway and no one would be the wiser.

the idea had just come to her but she was fairly sure she could swing it.

farah had already picked up a tray with two soup bowls and a dish of croutons, but she puts it down, and replaces the to-be-forlornness with excitement. "how?"

"i'll," natasha smirks again. "talk to them."

another round of gasps. in this kitchen, the people were nothing if not dramatic.

this time, freya's the one who asks, "how?"

"well, i haven't waitressed for twelve years just to go about rattling off trade secrets, kids." natasha winks, and a few of them make indignant noises because only about one third of the staff was what could broadly be called new. most of them had been there for years, and were practically a part of her family now. but she picks up her own tray smoothly, conveniently having been slid to her counter just then, and sets off — to an audience of hopeful believers (and dallas)'s matching stares.

(natasha isn't exactly free of the flair for drama she'd just accused everyone in this kitchen of.)

once outside, she makes a beeline for the table her tray is actually for, leaves them it, and quickly heads for the infamous trenchcoat and car-guy table.

this is so going to work.

"so then i cut his —" car-guy stops mid-sentence, spotting her. a part of natasha seethes to know what he 'cut off', but being fodder for the kitchenstaff's are-they-dating games didn't take away their rights to privacy, and she respected those. the car-guy smiles shortly at her. "what's the matter," his eyes flick down to her nametag, flick right back. (definitely a good sign; most men linger.) "natasha?"

she puts on her best smile. "it's about the milkshakes."

"is there a problem?" car-guy eases into a wider smile. "do you not have them, not a single one, and do we have to order pie instead?"

car-guy's partner shakes his head exasperatedly. "dean, i hardly think that's what she'd be here about."

"well, a guy's gotta dream." car-guy — dean — instantly says, and goes back to his burger while trenchcoat speaks up instead.

"what's the matter?"

natasha doesn't let her smile budge. it's a hell of a customer service smile, she's been told. "i actually came here to ask if you would like me to add the date dessert discount on the milkshake. it's an all-february thing. not on all items." she clarifies, a reflexive response for why it hasn't come up before.

genius.

dean looks a little cornered — trenchcoat just looks confused.

"i don't understand." he says, after a moment's pause. "the milkshakes cost less just if dean and i are here on a date...?"

"it's not —" she balks a little at his seriousness. "it's actually not that big of a difference."

"that's...alright." trenchcoat tilts his head, and natasha suddenly realizes she's physically fighting the urge to stare. shit, dallas isn't half-wrong. "but why just milkshakes?"

dean lets out an uncomfortable laugh. "capitalism trying to crap all over the free man's heart and the supremacy of pie not enough reason for ya, cas?"

natasha stifles a smile.

that's actually a good line. maybe car-guy deserves more credit than just loyal-to-the-pie.

trenchcoat — okay, cas, at least while she's out here — still looks a little doubtful (and she has no idea why) but he nods at dean, and then looks up at her and nods again. "add the discount."

natasha has to resist the urge to let her jaw drop.

this entire conversation, she'd practically been sure they were heading towards a rejection of the 'date' clause. and her gut told her they weren't lying either.

well, well. always thrilling to be right.

"and thank you for telling us about it." cas continues, and her practised smile returns immediately. probably a little less obligatory.

"of course."

and dean still looks like he'd rather cut more whatever-he-was-talking-about's off rather than be here right now, so natasha goes to leave. but cas stops her right before she's out of reach.

"excuse me." he's the one smiling this time. "if you're not busy right away, could you tell us what other items are eligible for the february date discount?"

dean facepalms. "come on, dude."

cas gives him a look — and natasha was right, of course she was right, that's not a exasperated 'friend' look. "i'd like to know, dean."

to natasha's knowledge, they've never had trouble paying for anything before (hernandez, she thinks one of their surnames is, she's seen it on a card) but she can't object to 'cas' asking, of course. curiosity is also a well-off man's right.

"why?" dean asks vehemently, before she can start to rattle off the list.

"because," cas answers levelly. actually, he kind of sounds like he's using his dad voice. maybe he is a dad. "i think it's strange that we've never gotten the discount before, while we've been eating lunch here almost this entire month."

it's again hard for natasha to not just stare gapmouthed at them.

"those have been dates." she realizes belatedly and out loud, and receives a weird, distasteful look from dean, and an immediate nod from cas that makes her blurt out, "so this isn't your...first date."

they're dating.

oh, farah was going to lose her mind.

"is that a requisite clause?" cas asks politely, while dean just scrubs his face with a hand.

"no." she tells cas truthfully. "i'm sorry, i just assumed it was. your first, i mean."

"lady, we certainly don't look first date aged to me." dean butts in, not hostile, but like it's something that irks him. "and we've been married four years, so one would desperately hope it's not our first date, y'know."

married.

they're friggin' married.

natasha is an idiot, and her date-dar is probably due for an early retirement.

they've been married for four years.

"i'm...very sorry." she apologizes, mortified. "i had no idea. i —"

"it's fine." this time, dean's smiling, and cas's confused frown is back. it's like they take turns. natasha is almost grateful for it, to be fair, because both those smiles directed at her would've been a helluva lot more distracting. "really doesn't matter. and yeah, sure, add the milkshake discount but don't worry about the list of items." he turns to cas. "just have sam look it up for you when we get home. please."

cas seems to be prepared to acquiesce to that but natasha can't help her own curiosity this time. "is that your son?"

and she's halfway to regretting it the moment she registers having said it, even though thankfully neither of them look too offended. in fact, cas is back to smiling.

"he's dean's brother." cas tells her. "he's the one with jack right now." he pauses. "it's easier because he and eileen live with us."

"yeah, an in-house sitter who doesn't even like going out is really a department we won in." dean grins, solely at cas. as if he's momentarily forgotten all about natasha's presence (that had clearly been making him uncomfortable talking in front of, earlier) in just looking at his husband. natasha sends out a quick pre-prayer for farah. "sucks for eileen though."

"eileen is very happy with your brother, dean." cas chastises, his eyes nothing but affectionate even then, and natasha's head reels with how much she has to tell the waitstaff today.

they're going to friggin' adore her.

"so jack is your son," she confirms, less wary of their reaction to her question now that they looked to have settled into their own silent conversation.

"he's our son, yes." cas replies, simply.

"like, you and him." she flashes a smile at dean.

"us and sam." cas corrects, and dean facepalms again. for her part, natasha can do little more than blink.

"but —"

"it's complicated." dean cuts her off suddenly, and she flinches. he didn't even deny it, just...sidestepped it.

"i — i see." natasha clears her throat, still looking at cas in bewilderment.

cas probably doesn't notice because he's talking to dean again. "it's significantly less complicated than claire's parentage, dean. she has over six parental —"

jesus christ.

"aaand that's enough trivia for date night." dean interrupts loudly again, definitely for the best, because natasha was standing there like a thoughtless statue at this point. his raised voice shakes her out of her reverie, and she vaguely calculates the chances of crashing into a table if she tried to walk away right away.

"i'll," she mumbles instead, drawing in a breath forcefully. "i'll be back with your milkshakes."

"thank you!" cas calls after her as she half wobbles on her heels back to the kitchen.

inside, she puts her empty tray on the metal counter and her hands on both sides of it, bowing her head, and almost immediately ending up surrounded by a plethora of people — most of whom, in normal circumstances, would just have been eavesdropping from their respective stations.

farah's the first to ask, followed by hutch.

"so?"

"what did you find out?"

natasha closes her eyes. "they're married."

this time, the commotion is the largest yet. but she isn't done.

"and every single one of their meals here have been dates." freya pumps her fist, chloe squeezes farah's hand, and dallas tsks under his breath. the 'gallery' watchers appear ready to join in the cheering as well today. but the entire kitchen senses she isn't done yet, and waits fidgetingly for the rest of it.

"and," natasha swallows. "they're almost definitely in a cult."

[blu-joons]

Taking Your Daughter To A Group Dinner ~ Jeon Jungkook

Jungkook’s smile widened as soon as you arrived at the restaurant and saw the cars of the other boys already parked up. Your eyes looked to him as soon as you climbed out of the car, taking your daughter out of her car seat in the back of the car.

“Excited?” You asked, even if the smile on his face already gave things away.

“Definitely,” he smiled, locking the car behind the two of you, “a meal with my two favourite girls and my six best friends, is there any other way a guy would want to spend his evening?”

Your eyes simply rolled back at Jungkook as he moved his arm to wrap around your waist, guiding you to the restaurant. You continued to carry your daughter in your arms whilst Jungkook got the door, as ever, being the perfect gentleman for you both.

As soon as you neared the table, the volume got louder as the six boys’ heads all turned and noticed who was in your arms. Their smiles all widened, faces softening as your daughter looked around to see who was looking across at her, instantly getting excited too.

Namjoon was the first to stand, extending his arms out to take your daughter from you and give her a squeeze. “Well, this is a nice surprise,” he grinned, bouncing her gently, “and how is my favourite girl doing?” He questioned, meeting her eyes.

“She was probably alright before you grabbed her,” Jin instantly teased.

“Hey, she loves all of you guys equally, this evening won’t turn into one of your usual competitions,” you warned in response.

The boys all shuffled around the table to make room for the two of you to sit at the end, with Hoseok on your side and Taehyung sat to Jungkook’s side too.

Whilst you sat, your eyes remained focused on your daughter as Jimin began to fuss over her too, relieved to finally have a moment to yourself. “It’s nice to relax,” you whispered as you settled your head against Jungkook’s shoulder.

His head nodded in agreement with you, as much as you both loved being parents, it was nice from time to time to be able to take a breath. The boys loved giving you the chance to do that, always happy to take your daughter and keep her entertained for as long as you needed.

“Why is she staring at me?” You suddenly heard Yoongi question.

“Because you’ve got tassels on your hoodie.”

Jimin took your daughter from Namjoon, allowing her access to reach across and grab the tassels of Yoongi’s clothing. “Don’t worry, if you ruin this hoodie Y/D/N I’ll charge your dad for a new one.”

Jungkook’s eyebrows raised, shaking his head back across to Yoongi, refusing to take any responsibility for your daughter’s inquisitive mind. She loved exploring, finding a toy in everything, which often caused havoc around your house too.

“I remember when we used to have to tell Jungkook off for constantly grabbing things,” Hobi joked beside you, “and now he’s trained his child to do the same.”

“I can’t help the fact that she’s fascinated by simple things like me,” Jungkook replied.a few o

As the table fell silent, Taehyung took it as a sign to take the pile of menus before him and begin to hand them around so that you could begin to order your meals.

“Are we going to play the card game to sort out the bill?” Jimin questioned around the table, as everyone but you nodded their heads. “Don’t worry Y/N, you and Jungkook can be on the same card, that would be insane.”

“I’m just surprised after all these years you still decide who’s paying by letting a stranger pick out a credit card,” you sniggered, “it’s like you’ve never heard of just splitting the bill.”

Their smiles all widened as they began to look over the menu, whilst you studied the children’s section closely. “Shall we get a bottle of fancy stuff for the table, seeing as we’re celebrating all the success we’ve had recently?”

Whilst the others all quickly agreed, your head once again shook, glancing across to your daughter. As much as you wanted to celebrate with the boys, these days you had other priorities, and knew you had to be responsible too.

Jungkook noticed how quick you were to reject the offer, tapping against your arm. “You drink,” he whispered, “I can drive us home at the end of the night.”

“You’re the one that’s supposed to be celebrating, you can’t be drinking water all night,” you tried to argue, but Jungkook’s mind was already made up. “I’m honestly alright not drinking, I’m kind of used to it these days.”

His head shook, offering you a soft smile. “You’re always the one that misses out because you worry about Y/D/N, I can still celebrate everything without needing a drink inside of me, for once, you just be the one to not worry.”

“We can all drink water,” you suddenly overheard Namjoon suggest, turning in your seat to look across at him. “None of us really need to drink to celebrate, Jungkook’s right. Plus, then neither of you feel like you’re missing out either.”

You were taken aback as the rest of the table agreed with Namjoon’s suggestion, happy to spend the evening drinking water. With a day of rehearsals ahead tomorrow too, they knew they’d be thankful for making that decision as well.

You smiled around the group before locking eyes with your daughter. “Have you decided what you want to eat? They’ve got pizza on the menu,” you informed her, as her eyes lit up.

“Pizza, I want to have pizza.”

Just like Jungkook, your daughter was a huge foodie, ordering or organising dinner was never too much hassle with her. As you began to look through for yourself, you could hear her enthusiastically telling the boys that she would be having pizza for dinner.

Jungkook continued to watch her with a wide smile on his face, chuckling to himself at the resemblance she had to him. It was almost creepy for the boys too to see the embodiment of Jungkook in your daughter.

Their similarities were ones that everyone adored, how she’d be curious and capture everyone’s attention in an instant. As Jungkook had done many years ago, she had the boys under her spell in no time as soon as she came into the world.

“She’s enjoying herself,” Jungkook whispered across to you once he eventually looked away from her.

A light chuckle came from you too as you glanced over at her, enjoying how hard the boys were trying to not look annoyed by the number of times she chose to inform that she was having pizza for dinner.

“It’s nice watching her energy wind someone else up for once,” you admitted, “and now you can see what I’ve dealt with having the two of you together for so long too.”

“I don’t give it long before they’re passing her back over here,” he joked, “a few of them aren’t quite built for parenthood just yet.”

“Once she’s got a bit of food in her, she’ll be out like a light,” you smiled, “that reminds me of someone else actually.”

“I don’t know who you could be on about.”

---

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