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hockybish · 2 months

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Baby Sister

l luke x the cute photograher l luke x maisie l masterlist

part 2 of meeting Luke and Maisie's kids

"We have to tell him. He's going to be so excited" Luke used his thumbs to rub small circles in his wife's small bump.

She wasn't that far along, but far enough that they were able to find out the gender of the new little one and they hadn't told Axel yet that he was getting an upgrade to big brother.

"You think? What if he doesn't want one? The what?" Maisie bit her lip. Luke squeezed her hand reassuringly as they went to talk with Axel.

"Axel, how would you like a baby sister?" Luke asked the little boy who very contently petting the cat that was sitting across his legs.

"Hmm" Axel hummed. He had to think about this for a minute. Did he really want a baby? To be honest? Not really.

"No tank you Daddy. Me and Rosie are good" He hugged his best friend closer, caressing his face in the cat's soft fur. He didn't need anyone but his best friend.

"But won't it be fun to have someone to play with? You can show her all your toys." Maisie pointed out a couple of positives.

"I got my Rosie, she my best friend. I no need baby." The toddler turned back to the cat. He was done with conversation.

Maisie and Luke tried everything under the sun that they could think of to get Axel used to the idea of mommy having a baby and he was going to be a big brother. They looked at baby pictures and read books. The parents even got him a baby doll.

Axel just never seemed interested. He didn't really care about the doll preferring to carry in by its foot and coloring on its head with marker. Maisie thought that was going to be some sort of indicator, what that was remained to been seen.

But things started to change when the little family babysat baby Lacey.

"Do you want hold her?" Maisie bounced her seven month old infant niece in her arms. Lacey grabbed ahold of her hair and started tugging on it.

"No" He was too busy playing with Rosie and Candy. They had a jingle bell ball and were playing a soccer like game.

"How about helping us feed her?" Luke tried a little later around dinner time. He had both a bottle ready and a little bit of mushy food.

This time Axel acted like he didn't hear them. He didn't want anything to do with helping out with his little cousin.

Until she started to cry. Lacey was having a hard time settling down for a nap. Maisie swayed and patted her back for well over an hour. Lacey just cried and screamed until she red little splotches all over her face.

Axel had enough of the crying. He ran up to his mother with his hand covering his ears the best he could and tapped her arm. He was gonna take care of this.

"Shh baby Lacey. It okay, don cry." He tried patting the fluff on the top of her head to calm her, but it didn't really help any. Luke and Maisie looked at each other, maybe this would work out after all.

"Lukey what do you think of the name Asa?" Maisie looked through another list of baby names, hoping they could agree on one.

"Asa Hughes?" Luke questioned making a face. He wasn't too sure about the name. Sure it worked and sounded fine. But Luke just didn't like the name.

"Well I don't know then. I've suggest a lot of names and you keep shooting them down and then you haven't come up with any names." Maisie threw her phone.

She was so stressed right now. Luke had just been dealt to Detroit, they were currently living with Jim and Ellen, and to top it off she due any day now.

"I don't know Maize. You're the one who comes up with all these things." He shrugged again. He didn't think he was being picky with the name, its just the right one hasn't come along yet.

"Whatever" She managed to awkwardly hoist herself up. She waddled over to the kitchen for a snack, but changed her destination halfway through because she had to go to the bathroom.

Luke sighed throwing his head back against the sofa and running his long finger over his face. Why was picking a name so difficult? Why couldn't they just agree on one and call it good?

"'scuse me Daddy" Axel poked at his father's knee cap.

"What do you want bud? Do you have a name for baby sister?" Luke asked when he saw Axel inching closer to him. Axel nodded and whispered his idea in his father's ear. "I like that one. I'll have to tell Mommy."

"Mommy, mommy, mommy!" Axel excitedly called running down the hallway towards Maisie's room. He held out the new stuffed bunny toy he had picked out for her.

The day before his mommy and dad dropped him off with Grandma El and Papa Jim and they didn't tell him why. Or he doesn't remember if they said. When he ask his Papa Jim this morning, he said it was because that Mommy was having the baby.

And now he gets to meet her. He kept talking the whole ride to the hospital about her and how cute she was going to be. It honestly reminded Ellen and Jim of when the boys met Lola when she was little.

"Mommy, mommy!" Axel took off even fast when he spotted Maisie peeking her head out of her room.

"Hey buddy." Maisie smiled when she saw her first born. She bent over the best she could with a newborn in her arm. Axel had warmed up quite a bit recently to getting a little sister but he was a bit nervous as to how he was going to react to seeing her.

"Baby?" The new baby was sleeping in his mother's arms. She had little bit of dark hair on her head and the cutest little nose and cheeks. Axel loved her already.

"Freddie" Luke crouched down by the mother and children to introduce her. He grabbed a hold of the little boy and brought him in for a hug.

"Baby Freddie" Axel smiled. They used his name. He couldn't believe it. He petted her head and kissed her cheek. "Look baby I got you bunny"

"Would you like to hold her?" They posed the question. They were a bit unsure of it he wanted, since he never seemed interested when Lacey was around.

Axel nodded. Maisie returned to her bed and Luke help him up next to her. Maisie placed Baby Freddie into his arms. And if it were possible his smiled grew bigger as he kept babbling to her telling her all about his toys and the cats.

"Look she smile at me! I love you Freddie!"

#luke x cute photographer #luke x maisie #baby freddie #au thoughts

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krikeymate · 11 months

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Can you write out the Tara falling asleep on Kirby for the first time idea a bit more? Please!? 🥹 I love that thought so much! Sam needs to be there too. I need the exchange of touched glances between Sam and Kirby, both realising that this is a big moment (for all of them). Maybe a sweet whispered conversation. It doesn’t matter if it’s Sam‘s or Kirby‘s POV… and you can also choose if it’s canon or an AU. I just… my heart needs it and your writing is always so perfect <3

"Hey, Kirby do-"

Sam's loudly shushed by the woman in question as she walks back into the living room.

When Sam had left, Tara and Kirby were watching some black-and-white film about a guy and his mutant baby... or something. She'd disappeared about 30 minutes in with an excuse about getting a drink. That had been an hour ago.

(No one had come after her, so she guesses she hadn't been missed. Which stings a little. What if she hadn't returned because she was being brutally murdered in the bathroom? Was Tara really just going to sit there and continue watching her movie, entirely unaware of the danger lurking behind the corner waiting to strike?! No Sam, you're being ridiculous.)

Now, Tara's horizontal and spread out over the couch, head in Kirby's lap and fast asleep.

Kirby's wide-eyed and straight-backed, tense and terrified to move. It's kinda funny, to see the fearless, snarky, quick-quipping Kirby Reed bought low by being used as a pillow.

Help me, she mouths at Sam, pointing down at her sister.

Sam's a little surprised, Tara hasn't been able to fall asleep around anyone other than her since... everything. She's secretly been relieved by the situation, glad she doesn't have to try and instigate a no-sleepover rule about Chad. Tara's been getting too good at winning arguments these days.

Her heart fills with affection at the realisation that although Kirby is uncomfortable with the situation, she still doesn't want to wake Tara.

"Looks like she's pretty comfortable, be a shame to wake her," Sam whispers, walking around to the back of the couch.

"Sam!" Kirby whispers back, as loud as she dares, twisting to face her. "She can't stay here, I have to get home soon."

She freezes as Tara mumbles in her sleep, head nuzzling further into Kirby's leg and an arm stretching across them.

Sam's lips begin to twitch in the beginnings of a smile. "Well wake her up then." She takes great joy in the look of disbelief that spreads across Kirby's face.

"I can't do that! It would be wrong... like kicking a puppy or pushing a cat off your lap."

Sam hums, patting the back of the couch and stepping backwards. "Sounds like a you problem."

She begins to walk backwards out of the room. "Welcome to the family, Reed." Sam can't help but snigger at the way Kirby desperately whisper-shouts after her.

Her sister's in good hands, she knows.

Kirby huffs, blowing some loose hair out of her eyes. She can't believe the nerve of Sam, leaving her to fend for herself against what may possibly be her greatest foe: Tara Carpenter, with the sad brown eyes and the adorable grin she gets when excited. Kirby was defenceless against her when Tara was just a toddler being babysat by her mom, when she was freshman-Sam's kid sister, and even now as an adult, the woman she can't kick off her lap because she can't bear to wake her.

She thought they had a bond, and now Sam's betrayed her.

Kirby stretches out her legs, resting a hand on Tara's back for a moment, so she doesn't move her too much and disturb her, and reaches over the back of the couch to pull off the blanket covering it.

She throws it over Tara's body and switches off the tv, dropping the remote to the floor. She can't do anything about the lamp, she'll just have to make the best of it.

She leans back and closes her eyes, glad that she doesn't have to go back to the hotel and spend another night alone.

This is kind of nice, she thinks. She's always wondered what it would be like to have a sister. Now she has two.

#/mp #ask box #Scream #Sam Carpenter #Tara Carpenter #Kirby Reed #this is canon btw #who can guess the movie mentioned that I saw a little bit of as a child and was traumatised by!!!#this isnt the touching moment you asked for but it felt natural. actions in the moment. feelings in the after.

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magniloquent-raven · 3 years

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more of my trans billy ficlets here 💕

thing is, billy never wanted kids.

he didn't even like playing with the stupid plastic babies that out of touch relatives thought made good christmas gifts. the dolls stayed in a sad creepy little pile in his closet—shoved in the corner behind the laundry hamper—til he was ten, and his father started really cracking down on his be grateful for what you have campaign.

billy still insists that using his mom's hairspray to set them on fire counts as playing with them. but that particular argument ended with billy icing a black eye, peeking through the bathroom window to watch his dad lug what was left of his dresser to the dumpster across the street.

point is, billy's never had any interest in being a parent, not even playing pretend at being one.

and that was never really a problem, no guy stuck around long enough for it to ever be a conversation they'd have to have.

until steve.

and steve...steve was fucking born to be a dad, and billy knows it. even without knowing all about the botched dream of a white picket fence happy ending with his high school sweetheart, without having seen that wistful look in his eye when he talks about how he was going to take a shitty job with his dad and live out his suburban i-peaked-in-high-school fantasy, even without all that, it's still obvious.

because he's happy mothering his rag-tag band of ducklings, even though they're too old to be babysat now. because he lights up with the most precious fucking goofy grin when random babies wave at him in public. because he knows all the ways his parents went wrong, and he's exactly the kind of person who'd do better just to spite them.

but billy doesn't know if he's that kind of person. and he's not sure if he'd ever forgive himself if it turns out he isn't.

he's not sure what he'll do about it if steve ever asks, so he's been doing the only logical thing. avoiding the subject entirely.

which, obviously doesn't last.

they've been together for three years. they share an apartment. marriage and kids and all that normal adult couple shit is what mature people talk about when they're in committed relationships, apparently.

it started with a favour for a friend.

some girl steve works with needed someone to watch her toddler for a couple hours, and of course steve volunteered. would've been fine if he hadn't forgotten something at home and called billy to ask him to drop it off.

and, see, it wasn't like he meant to stay, the kid was just so fucking clingy, and took a shying to billy of all people.

and billy saw the little soft-eyed smiles steve kept throwing his way whenever the kid latched onto his leg or babbled at him in toddler-speak that billy had to pretend to understand. he noticed. he's can't stop noticing. can't stop nervously glancing at steve, anxiety threading itself around his heart, his lungs, til he's all tangled up in it, tied up, stomach lurching when it pulls and tightens. he's tense, and waiting for the other shoe to drop.

and it does. in the car on the way home.

"you ever think about having kids?" steve is trying so hard to be nonchalant that it's almost painful. he's tracing patterns on his jean-clad thigh, billy can see him out of the corner of his eye. he keeps his gaze locked on the road.

he should probably ease into it. maybe. he has no idea, actually, this is probably gonna be a shit-show either way. for one, brief, horrifying moment he wonders if steve would break up with him over this and he can't breathe for a second.

and when his lungs expand again what comes tumbling out of his mouth is—

"i'd be a shitty dad, steve."

he winces at his own tone.

"fuck off, you would not." steve's vehemence surprises him enough that he forgets not to look. steve's brow is furrowed, his jaw set in a stubborn pout.

billy chews his lip silently, fingers tight on the steering wheel. "what makes you so sure," he asks quietly.

"you're kidding, right?" steve huffs. there's a pause, and his palm lands on billy's bicep, warm and grounding. "i'm sure because i know you." he squeezes billy's arm, "and...max and i talk," he adds, voice soft.

"knew introducing you two was a bad idea," billy mumbles. "fucking gossiping behind my back"

steve snickers. "all good things, i promise."

"right."

"...mostly good things."

"hm."

"come on, she loves you and you know it."

billy sighs, a half-hearted grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "yeah."

"and so do i."

"...you better." his smile grows when steve slaps his shoulder. "yeah, yeah, love you too, jesus."

"you better," steve echoes sarcastically. after a quiet moment of slowly drawing circles up and down billy's arm he adds, "i doubt myself too, y'know. it's not like i have any idea how to parent, mine weren't around enough to help me figure that shit out." he snorts.

"oh come on, you parent the shit out of those dorky brats of yours."

"nah..." steve shrugs, his hand slipping from billy's shoulder. "i was just. there, i guess. not like they listened to me or anything. which was probably good, 'cause i gave shitty advice and swore too much."

"you must done something right, they're still around." he glances over at steve. he's not looking back, he's got his forearms folded across his stomach, fingers curled around his elbows, slouched in on himself. billy reaches over and slips his hand around one of steve's. "hey. every one of those kids looks up to you, and you fucking earned that."

the rest of the drive is spent in companionable silence. billy knows its not the end of the conversation, not even close. it's going to come up again later, but it feels less looming and terrifying now. it's hard to be too scared of what-ifs when steve is two feet away and fiddling with one of billy's rings with a soft smile on his face.

later turns out to be when they've settled into bed for the night.

when steve rolls over, tugging billy's arm until it's draped around his waist, and he wiggles around trying to get his pillow squished just right. and billy watches him with an amused smile. and steve grins back, for a second, before he bites his lip, and—

"so, i...do want kids. um. just to be clear."

billy sighs. "yeah, i figured."

"i know you'd be great at it, billy," steve says quietly, firm and gentle and so damn sure that billy almost wants to believe him. "and we'd make a real pretty kid"

"jesus, harrington."

"what? it's true."

billy huffs a laugh. "yeah." he shifts, sheets rustling around his legs. "i never wanted kids, you know. always fuckin...freaked me out. the idea of it." steve watches him quietly, a warm hand on his chest, waiting patiently as billy pauses. "still fuckin' freaks me out. but you...it's less terrifying when i think about doing it with you. maybe."

"yeah?" steve's grin is blinding, his whole fucking body curling into it.

"maybe. keep it in your pants, bambi."

steve kisses him, cupping his cheek and leaning in slow and careful. "it's okay if the answer is no. it's okay. i'm just..." he nuzzles a little, eyes falling shut and a soft, contented smile warming his face. "makes me feel all special that you'd even consider it. for me."

yeah it's starting to look like there isn't a whole lot billy wouldn't consider doing for steve.

he snorts, and kisses steve's nose. "yeah well, don't get used to it."

"mm," steve snuggles closer. "wouldn't dream of it."

#steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove #stranger things #trans billy hargrove #a raven's writing desk

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emsemotional · 3 years

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out of line

Okay so this is a little baby one shot based on my mental health advocate!mickey headcanon that I posted a little while back. I used to write a lot for various fandoms back in high school, but it’s been a while since I’ve written anything, and even longer since I’ve shared anything I’ve written with anyone other than @lewslew, so please be nice- I definitely have some room to grow with characterization and timing.

This is taking place post-finale, so I’ve taken some liberties regarding what everyone ends up doing after the series. In my mind, Mickey and Ian buy the Gallagher house themselves, because they’re Southside boys at heart and they need a backyard for their dog (duh). But they’re waiting on their Westside lease to end, so Lip, Tami and Liam are staying in the house while Lip and Debbie fix it up and renovate a little (you can find my whole hc on what everyone’s up to post-series here). I was talking to @iansfreckles a while back about a possible Gallagher/Tamietti family dinner- I’m so interested in how this would go and how the families’ dynamics would interact. SO, this takes place at said Gallagher/Tamietti family cookout, right as Lip and Tami are moving out of the house, and Ian and Mickey are moving in. Cami and Brad’s kids are with Aunt Oopie, I dunno I didn’t want to write them haha.

Content warning: ignorant/rude comments about individuals with mental illnesses and language akin to that of the show

Tami had almost said no when Cory asked to bring her new boyfriend to the Gallagher house. Between the Gallagher and Tamietti families, there were going to be plenty of big personalities under one roof, as is. But Cory had actually asked this time, and she had just babysat Fred during a last minute highlight appointment. Tami had reluctantly agreed and her sister had seemed so happy that she almost forgot her hesitation.

Looking back, Tami’s decision was questionable. Lip had been able to prepare his family for the rest of the Tamietti’s, explaining the family dynamics and topics to avoid. Chad was a wildcard.

He had burst through the front door laughing loudly beside Brad and Cami, who didn’t seem to think the joke was as funny as Chad did. Cory and Bob followed them in, annoyance clear on Bob’s face. Tami and Lip moved to the door to greet their visitors, Tami depositing Fred in Carl’s lap, where he was sitting on the couch. Carl immediately grabbed the toddler under his arms, grinning at him and lifting him up above his head, making propellor noises on his way down.

This, this is what Tami had wanted her family to see. The Tamiettis had made it clear that while they tolerated Lip, they thought Tami could do better. They thought he was ill equipped to help raise a family, constantly doubting his ability to provide, and his dedication to his family. Tami had tried to explain Lip’s role in his own family- the patriarch of the Gallagher home, a man who had been taking care of people for his entire life. Perhaps the only way for the other Tamiettis to see the value in the Gallagher side of Fred’s family, was to observe it first hand.

Lip made it to the Tamiettis first, shaking Bob’s hand and taking the handful of bags and jackets that were thrust into his arms.

“No show Brad!” Tami cheered, hugging her sisters, “You made it!”

Brad rolled his eyes, lightly clapping Tami on the shoulder, “Yeah, yeah, I’m here.”

Cory turned towards her sister, a wide smile on her face, “Tam, this is Chad, the guy I was telling you about?”

Tami turned to shake his hand, finally giving him a good look. Truth be told, he looked like every other guy Cory had seriously dated- some tall, brunette, conventionally attractive, straight laced kind of guy. He didn’t seem any different from the other business majors, fraternity boys and bar bouncers that Cory had intruded her to.

“Tami right? So great to meet you, thanks for inviting me!”

“Of course, nice to meet you too! Come on in, you guys!”

The Tamiettis settled into the living room, Cami choosing the seat next to Carl, cooing down to Fred, “There’s my favorite nephew! How are you sweet boy?”

She ran a gentle hand across Fred’s head before introducing herself to Carl, “I’m Cami, Tami’s sister.” Carl swallowed a smirk at the rhyming names, nodding, “Carl, Lip’s brother.”

“Ah, the one buying the house?”

“Nah, that’s Ian and Mickey, they’re upstairs somewhere. I’m the cop,” Carl stated proudly.

“Fuck the police!” Mickey’s voice called into the living room in response, as a flash of red and black hair came tumbling down the stairs. All the Tamiettis turned to watch Mickey jog through the living room with Franny on his shoulders, Ian chasing after them.

“Get him Uncle Mickey!” Franny squealed, “He’s gonna catch us!”

“I’m a little busy running, kid. Hit ‘em or somethin’,” Mickey grunted, scrambling to hand his niece a rubber ball previously balanced on the back of the couch.

Franny wound up her arm, tossing the ball at Ian’s head with all her six year old might, “Take that, Uncle Ian! You’re dead!”

Ian groaned dramatically, clutching his face and sliding onto the ground. He let out a theatrical sign and closed his eyes, finally defeated.

Franny cheered as Mickey lifted her off his shoulders, “We did it! We killed him!” Franny dropped down to the ground to check that Ian had accepted his defeat, poking him in the back with the toe of her shoe.

Mickey gave her a crinkly grin, the kind he reserved for Franny and Ian alone- unguarded and childlike. “Sure did! Pretty badass if you ask me.”

Ian got to his feet, tickling Franny’s stomach as he addressed the room, “Hey, sorry we were in the middle of… a game.”

“Liquor store robbery!” Franny cheerfully announced.

Franny began introducing herself to the unfamiliar faces, sharing that she was in the first grade, enjoyed playing with guns, and wanted to be a welder like her mommy when she grew up. As Liam and Debbie descended the stairs, and the rest of the Gallaghers and Tamiettis introduced themselves, Tami marveled at how smoothly things seemed to be going. No one was yelling, or aggressively drunk, or making a thinly veiled classist comment- yet.

The two families quickly settled into a comfortable chatter of introductions and the conversation, surprisingly, continued to flow without a hitch. They soon made their way outside, where Debbie and Bob chatted while manning the grill. The other family members scattered across the yard- Liam sat in a lawn chair typing on a laptop, occasionally asking Lip for grammar advice. Ian, in the middle of telling some wild story from his EMT days, was fully emerged in conversation with the rest of the Tamietti family while Mickey and Carl considered how many crimes Carl could theoretically arrest him for, arguing over how many years Mickey would have to serve.

Everything was great- until Chad decided to open his mouth. They had finished dinner and were crammed into the living room, escaping the Chicago windchill. Chad was sharing one of his own work stories from the construction site he worked on, describing a man who had wandered onto the site and started yelling at Chad and some of his coworkers that week.

“Totally off his rocker,” Chad commented, “He kept telling us about how we were tearing down his house, and that he didn’t give us permission to do this. Just screaming at us, swearing, and he wouldn’t listen when we kept telling him that he trespassing, y’know? Just super crazy- needed a fucking Xanax or something.”

Ian tensed, fiddling with the ring on his left hand while the other Gallaghers exchanged pointed glances. Tami began to interrupt, clearly in attempt to change the subject, but Chad continued.

“The next day,” he explained, “the very next day, he came up to us and was asking to bum a smoke, like he didn’t fucking flip his crazy ass on us yesterday, I swear he must’ve been like bipolar or something, acting like we were old pals. Must’ve gotten carted off or killed or something, haven’t seen him since.”

While the Tamiettis offered a polite chuckle, the Gallaghers remained silent.

Mickey, who had been sitting on the couch next to Ian, looked up from his folded hands. “So you got something against bipolar people? It’s a fucking mental illness man.”

Chad smiled, backtracking, “Hey, nah, calm down. He’s just some crazy homeless dude, who cares?”

“He’s not just some crazy guy, he’s a person with a disease, the fuck’s wrong with you?” Mickey asked.

Ian placed a hand on his husband’s shoulder shaking his head. “Mick, it’s fine. It doesn’t matter.”

Eyebrows raised comically high, Mickey stood and crossed his arms. “Um, fuck that, it does matter! You’re not a fucking punchline Ian. This is our house, yours and mine, and no one’s going to be talking like that in my house. Obviously no one else is going to say something, and you shouldn’t have to, so I will. I won’t stand for that shit.”

The Tamiettis exchanged horrified looks as the Gallaghers mostly just looked at the floor. Finally Lip spoke up from where he was standing by the TV, “Mental health is uh… a sensitive subject around here. We just… we take it seriously, y’know? First hand experiences and shit.”

Cory opened her mouth to speak but she quickly stopped when she saw Tami swiftly shake her head in her direction, suggesting she stay out of it.

Mickey lightly rubbed his eyebrow, “Yo, douchebag, apologize or get the hell out of my house.”

Chad raised his hands in surrender, “I didn’t realize it was such a big deal man, sorry.”

Mickey rolled his eyes with a huff, turning on his heel to walk towards the back of the house. Wordlessly, Ian followed him out the back door, leaving the living room in a heavy silence.

After a moment, Chad breaks the silence, “Look, I really didn’t mean to start something, I was just telling a story. Should I go out and apologize again, try to talk about it?”

“I wouldn’t do that,” Liam replied, “You should give Mickey some time to cool off.”

“Yeah,” Lip agreed, “I wouldn’t follow them out. Mickey… he gets protective? Always has been, of Ian. Our mom was bipolar, and so’s Ian. He’s stable, doing great, but he’s, uh, he’s been through a lot. It’s just not good joke material around here.”

Chad nodded, silence overtaking the room again. Franny looked up from her coloring book, clearly bored with the turn the night had taken.

“I’m gonna go play with Uncle Mickey and cheer him up!”

Debbie chuckled from her seat across the room, “Yeah, go bring them some beers Franny.”

“Okay!” Franny chirped, hopping to her feet and skipping into the kitchen. Debbie gave a soft smile as she watched her daughter, on the way to hang out with her favorite uncles.

From his seat on the back stairs, Ian watched Mickey pace through the yard, grumbling about “Fucking Northside yuppies… and their ignorant bigoted asses… what the fuck is wrong with people?” He glanced over at Ian, his expression softening when he noticed the defeated look on Ian’s face. Mickey paused his pacing, coming to sit next to Ian on the steps.

“I’m sorry, I know I prolly embarrassed you. Was I out of line man? I just got so fucking mad,” Mickey quietly mumbled, looking down at his hands in his lap.

Ian gently shook his head, “Don’t apologize. You weren’t out of line… I think I’m just disappointed, y’know? That comments like that still get to me? I should be over it by now, every reminder that I’m sick or different shouldn’t still sting like that. And why do I have to be the one that the conflict and the drama revolves around? Why not fucking Carl or Liam or god… anyone else just for once?

Mickey’s expression softened even further. He nudged his knee into Ian’s leg, “What’s that shit you told me when Terry died? Trauma doesn’t always make fucking sense and recovery isn’t… oh shit, what’s the word? Linear! Recovery isn’t linear. Doesn’t make you fucking weak, just means you’ve been through some shit.”

“Yeah. I guess it was easier to tell you that than it is to tell myself.”

Mickey hummed in agreement and the two sat in silence for a moment before the back door creaked open. A tiny red head shoved her way through the doorway, arms wrapped tightly around two bottles, frosty with condensation. Franny sat down on the steps between them, silently handing her uncles their beers. Ian accepted his with a dry chuckle, thanking her. Mickey ruffled her hair, offering a small smile. The voices from inside had faded and the night was relatively calm, other than the occasional siren or dog barking.

Franny, not looking particularly concerned, looked up at them to ask, “Uncle Mickey, why’d you get mad at that guy?”

Mickey rubbed at his eyebrow and let out a sigh. He looked towards Ian, a silent request for him to take the lead on this conversation. He was confident in his ability to discuss the stupidity of princesses or the importance of wearing gloves during a legitimate liquor store robbery with his niece. He knew how to play, and joke, and how to be there when she woke up from a bad dream, stumbling down the stairs with bedhead and snotty tears. Mickey had grown into his role as an uncle, but he still doubted his ability to talk about the tough stuff with anyone other than Ian.

Ian cleared his throat, taking a second before asking, “Franny, do you know what it means to make a joke at someone else’s expense?”

Franny’s eyebrows scrunched together and she shook her head.

“It’s when you make a joke to kind of make fun of someone else. Like to tease them. Y’know how we make cop jokes around Uncle Carl because he’s a cop?”

She nodded, and Ian continued, “That guy… Aunt Tami’s sister’s boyfriend, was making a joke and it ended up being at my expense. That’s what made Uncle Mickey mad. He didn’t mean to make fun of me, but he kind of did. That’s all. Uncle Mickey was just sticking up for me.”

Franny sat for a moment, deep in thought. “I didn’t know he was talking about you.”

“No, he wasn’t. Not directly. He was telling a story about someone else. But he made a comment about him being bipolar. D’you remember when we talked about that? That I have bipolar disorder?”

Franny nodded, “That’s why you take your special medicine.”

Ian continued, “A lot of people don’t really understand what that means, and sometimes they make jokes about it that aren’t really funny. They’re just kind of… mean. So that’s why we got upset.”

Franny considered this for a minute and asked, “Do you want me to go tell mommy? She says I should tell her if someone’s being mean. She can fix it.”

Ian smiled a little, patting her little back and shaking his head, “Nah, mommy already knows, she heard. And I think Uncle Mickey did a pretty good job telling him that what he said was wrong.”

Mickey let out a sarcastic laugh, “And I got more to say to that piece of shit if I ever see his Northside yuppy fucking face again.”

“I think he got the point Mick,” Ian sighed, “Don’t waste your time.”

Franny shrugged “Mommy and Uncle Lip and Aunt Tami were all still talking in there when I left. Mommy told me it was a good idea for me to come out here.”

Mickey grabbed Ian’s hand, bumping their shoulders together. “Whatcha wanna do, man? We can head back to the apartment, go to the Alibi and get tanked, I don’t care, it’s up to you.”

“Don’t know, I’m tired of running from things. And you were right Mick, it’s our fucking house. Could we just sit out here for a little while?” Mickey ran a thumb across Ian’s hand and mumbles so quietly, in that voice he only uses with Ian- “‘Course we can”

Having completed her task of delivering beers, Franny stood up and put her hands on her hips, “I’m going to go inside, I won’t let anyone be mean to you Uncle Ian.”

Ian looked up to lock eyes with his niece, “I appreciate it Fran, thanks.”

She stood up and gave Ian a kiss on the top of his head, no doubt a gesture she’d picked up from some other family member, likely Mickey or Fiona. Ian smiled as she turned away to walk back into the kitchen.

After a few minutes Ian jerked his head towards the door, “Y’ready?”

Mickey hummed in agreement, standing and offering back his hand to help Ian up. They walked over the threshold of the kitchen into a conversation clearly about Mickey’s exchange with Chad. The Tamiettis were all sitting down in the living room, with the Gallaghers mostly standing, leaning against the various remaining surfaces. Lip’s hands were in his hair, a plain indication of his frustration and exhaustion. Tami abruptly stopped talking, in the middle of what seemed like an impassioned rant. She seemed unsure of how to continue now that Ian and Mickey had reentered the house. Debbie, sat on the couch with Franny in her lap, was scowling, while Liam absently stared at the wall, clearly wishing he were anywhere else. Carl quickly walked into the kitchen from where he had been leaning up against the living room door frame, clapping Ian on the shoulder.

“Hey, why don’t you guys go take a walk or something for a sec- I think Lip and Tami have it handled.”

Lip spoke up from the living room, “Yeah, it’s okay.”

Mickey tensed, bracing himself. “No, it’s not fucking okay Phillip-“

Lip grumbled something about that not being what he meant, shaking his head, while Ian quietly interrupted his husband, forcing him to make eye contact.

“No, it’s not, but I don’t want to just keep going over it, Mick. I’m not in the mood to educate him. I’m not saying it’s okay, but I want to move on. Lip can handle it.”

Carl nodded and repeated himself, “Go take a walk, come back in ten. Lip and Tami got it.”

He reached into his pocket, pulling out a joint and pressing it into Ian’s palm with a smirk.

“Rolled this for later, you guys take it.”

Ian raised an eyebrow at Mickey, who let out a sigh with a slouch, “Fine. Be back in ten.”

The two of them return to the backyard, Tami’s yelling resumed, her voice carrying all the way outside.

“M’sorry, I know I keep talkin’ when you just want it to be over with,” Mickey mumbled, looking down at the dead grass in the vacant lot beside the house.

Ian grabbed him by the back of his neck, fingers brushing through Mickey’s short hair, “Hey, no. I… I appreciate you sticking up for me- seriously. I’m just tired… tonight’s not supposed to be about me y’know? It’s supposed to be about Lip and Tami, and Fred, not me. I just wanted to be Lip’s brother tonight, not the crazy brother, the sick brother. I just don’t wanna be the one that causes the issues anymore.”

“You didn’t cause this Ian. You being bipolar didn’t fucking cause this- that asshole, opening his mouth and not knowing when to shut it- that’s what caused it. I get that you just wanna let it go, and I will, but if he say’s something else-“

“If he says something else you can beat the shit out of him.”

Mickey grinned, looking up to meet Ian’s gaze. “Fucking fantastic. You wanna smoke this bitch?”

He grabbed the joint out of Ian’s hand and pulled a lighter from his flannel’s front pocket.

Ian finally cracked a smile, one that actually reaches his eyes, “Free weed? Fuck yeah.”

Mickey tossed the lighter to Ian, who caught it and lit the joint with a practiced flick. He took a couple hits and closed his eyes, smiling again as he exhaled the smoke. He handed the lit joint over to Mickey, along with his lighter and jerked his head in the direction of the van in the backyard, “Wanna go sit?”

Mickey nodded and breathed in a sharp inhale, heading in the direction of the passenger seat door.

Ian climbed up into the drivers seat, letting out a deep sigh, “Feel like I’m in high school again- sneaking around with you, trying to find somewhere to be alone.” Mickey chuckled and passed the joint back over.

They smoked in silence for a while, Ian nudging Mickey with his elbow as the ember approaches the filter, “You want the last hit?”

“Nah man, that’s yours,” Mickey shakes his head.

Ian took it, stubbing out the butt on the van’s dashboard and tossing it onto the floor.

“Still wanna kick his ass?” He asked, lazily turning his head towards Mickey with a grin.

Mickey rolled his eyes, “I think I can contain myself.”

“Yeah?” Ian breathed, inching his face closer to his husband’s. The moon, freshly risen, highlighted Ian’s face, illuminating the dash of freckles across his nose.

Mickey didn’t answer, opting to close the distance between them, pressing a soft kiss to Ian’s lips. Ian’s hand came up to cradle Mickey’s face, thumb gently brushing his cheek.

And if they didn’t make it back inside for a while, so be it.

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thejolexgroupchat · 4 years

Note

Would love to see a fic of prompt #57 !!! (“So stick that in your juice box and suck it.” ) I have no idea what it would be like but it just sounds fun ahaha

We absolutely LOVE the prompts you all sent us. This fic was written by Nina @doc-pickles and Leya @iamtrebleclefstories

Enjoy the first of many collaborative fics from The Group Chat!

the one with the juice box

It was an unusually hot May day in Seattle, meaning the ER was filled with heat stroke patients that kept everyone busy. Alex had been running back and forth from the peds floor to the ER all day, checking in on new patients while still maintaining his normal routine. To be honest, he was exhausted and all he wanted was to settle in for lunch with his wife. He hadn’t seen her since they’d walked in together almost four hours ago, which wasn’t unusual, but she usually popped by to see him at least once or twice.

Clocking off for his lunch, Alex wandered down towards the main surgical floor in search of his wife. She’d seemed okay when they were getting ready for the day, extreme morning sickness turned to only an occasional swell of nausea now that she was in her second trimester. Still, Alex couldn’t help the worry for his wife that wound itself through his body. He knew that the pregnancy was taking a toll on her, both physically and emotionally, so, although he was sure she was going to be fine, he couldn't help but worry.

After searching and finally asking a few nurses he’d passed, he found Jo laying on an empty gurney in one of the quieter hallways. She wasn’t asleep, just laying on her back and glaring at the ceiling with the most adorable angry pout Alex had ever seen. He smiled because the position she was lying in allowed him to see the tiniest curve of her stomach, so small and barely there that he was probably the only one who noticed.

He came up behind her and pressed a tender kiss on her forehead, “Hi.”

“Shut up,” Jo scowled.

“What?” Alex asked, a puzzled look on his face. “All I did was say hi. You can’t be mad at me for that.”

“I’m not mad because you said hi,” Jo rolled her eyes. “I’m mad at you because you did this to me. You knocked me up and now I can barely stand without feeling like I’m going to fall over.”

Alex wanted to laugh, honestly. But he knew if he did, he’d end up in the doghouse. Jo’s hormones had been a whirlwind lately. Most days, he teetered on the edge of saying something equally snarky back or just taking it in stride. Today, he decided to contain himself, “You’re not dizzy because you’re pregnant. Well, it’s not the only reason you’re dizzy. You’re dizzy because you’ve barely eaten anything all day. This morning when I made breakfast, you almost bit my head off for placing eggs in front of you, and proceeded to tell me how you couldn’t stand the smell and didn’t want to eat anything. I had to practically shove that piece of toast down your throat.”

“It’s still kind of your fault. Because if I weren’t pregnant, then I wouldn’t have weird food aversions that keep me from eating.” Jo pointed out.

“As far as I remember, you’re the one who got us into this situation. You stopped taking your pills, and I told you that I didn’t have a condom but you said and I quote, ‘I don’t care. I’m naked and horny, stop stalling and just stick it in me.’ So really, you did this to yourself,” Alex shrugged.

“Whatever,” Jo glared at her husband. “What do you want?”

“I was wondering if you wanted to come eat lunch with me,” Alex asked sweetly, knowing if he won Jo over with his charm she might not realize he was just trying to get food into her over exerted body.

“I honestly don’t know if I can even get up from this gurney,” Jo admitted, eyes moving up to meet Alex’s. He could see just from looking at her how much of a toll everything was taking on her. “I think I’m just gonna spend the next few months here, then I don’t have to move when I give birth.”

“I’ll carry you over there if I have to,” Alex offered, holding his hand out towards Jo. “Come on, I’ll help you up and hold your hand if you get dizzy.”

“Fine,” Jo huffed and held on to Alex as she let him help her off the gurney.

They got to the cafeteria and Jo wrinkled her nose at the available options. Nothing looked appetizing, prompting her to grab an apple and banana and sit down at a table. Alex joined her a moment later, tray loaded with a burger, a sandwich, two bags of chips, and a fruit cup. He grabbed the burger and bit into it before fixing Jo with a pointed stare.

“Please for the love of god, force yourself to eat something besides an apple,” Alex pushed the tray towards Jo who glared at him. “If you don’t eat any of that, I’m putting you on my service so I can watch you all day and make sure you don’t pass out.”

“I’m not a resident anymore, you can force me on your service,” Jo pointed out, eyeing him warily.

“Dammit. That’s right. You’re a fellow,” Alex wrinkled his nose. “Well, good news is that I’m the chief, so technically I can have you follow me around all day.”

Jo stared him down for a moment, Alex unfazed by his wife’s glare as he bit into his burger. Finally relenting, Jo grabbed a bag of chips and began to slowly eat them between bites of fruit.

“You know I really hate you sometimes,” Jo mumbled as she took a final bite of the apple, a low groan escaping her as she did so. “Bailey would never abuse her power like this.”

“You didn’t know her when I was a resident,” Alex took another bite of his burger. “Are you sure you don’t want anything else? You can have some of my burger.”

“I’m sure,” Jo shook her head, a disgusted look crossing her face as she settled one hand onto her stomach. “Watching you eat is making me feel nauseous.”

Alex sighed, looking to Jo with a serious expression “This isn’t okay Jo. I can’t have you walking around the hospital alone without having eaten anything. You’re with me today, okay?”

“I don’t need to be babysat Alex, I can take care of myself,” Jo whined, crossing her arms across her chest like an angry toddler. “You don’t need to watch me 24/7.”

“You fell asleep on our bathroom floor yesterday after puking for 30 minutes. How about this,” Alex leaned in towards his wife with a small grin. “Shepherd and I have a Peds case together, you can come and help us so it doesn’t feel like I’m just dragging you around to make sure you don’t pass out in a storage closet.”

Jo eyed Alex warily, he was almost certain she was going to fight him on it, but he wore his ‘I’m the Chief don't test me right now’ expression well enough that she finally conceded.

“Ugh… fine,” Jo groaned, standing and reaching for Alex’s hand. “Bailey’s out today anyway, so it’s not like I have anything better to do. But this is a one time thing!”

Alex joined Jo, one arm wrapped tightly around her shoulder as they headed towards the elevators.

“That’s the spirit, your enthusiasm is appreciated,” Alex chuckled as they made their way to the Peds ward. “If you keep eating and stop feeling like shit, maybe I’ll let you do more things on your own.”

Alex led Jo into a patient room, Helm and Shepherd already speaking with a young girl and her mom. Amelia was explaining the procedure to them, so Alex and Jo hung back by the door until they’d finished.

“I brought you something,” Alex whispered, handing a box of apple juice to Jo. “Figured you can keep your electrolytes up.”

Jo rolled her eyes as she snatched the juice box from Alex, sticking it in the pocket of her lab coat. "You're a pain in the ass. Stop hovering."

“Geez, Jo. Why are you so grumpy? I'm supposed to be the grumpy one,” Alex tried joking in hopes of lightening the mood. "You're the nice one in this relationship. "

“Did you forget that I'm literally carrying your genes right now?" Jo stared her husband down. "I am part Alex Karev at this moment and will continue to be for the next five and a half months, so you better get used to this.”

Alex narrowed his eyes at her and reached for the juice box in her pocket. He removed the straw from the plastic and handed both items back to his wife, "Whatever. You can be mean and grumpy all you want, but you're carrying our kid and they need nutrients. So, stick that in your juice box and suck it."

Jo glared at Alex as she stuck the straw in the juice box. She was about to open her mouth in response when her smart remark was interrupted by Amelia calling Alex over to speak to the mom.

“Gracie and Delilah, this is Doctor Karev. He’s the best pediatric surgeon we have and he’s going to help me fix you up Gracie,” Amelia turned from Gracie to her mom. “Seriously this guy is a miracle worker, you’re lucky I convinced him to come consult.”

Alex pulled Delilah aside, explaining in more detail exactly what Gracie’s treatment plan would look like. He could tell she was worried, but hoped that he and Amelia could keep her nerves at bay.

“Any other questions before we start doing labs?”

“Well just one,” Delilah blushed, eyelashes batting against her cheeks as she looked up to Alex. “Would it be inappropriate for me to ask for your number?”

Now, it’s not like Alex had never been hit on at work before. He had been, plenty of times, especially being a peds surgeon that dealt with scared moms daily. But since he’d been preoccupied with his Chief duties, lately he hadn’t spent enough time alone with moms to have them hit on him. Not to mention it was the first time Alex had experienced this since he’d gotten married. He also didn’t expect for his wife to be standing on the opposite side of the room when it happened.

So for that very reason, Alex blurted out the first thing that came to his mind, “I’m sleeping with her.”

Delilah looked stunned and a bit confused, scrunching her face as she looked to the doctors behind them, “Which one?”

Alex looked around the room and saw Jo standing with Amelia and Helm talking to Gracie. Jo clinked her juice box against Gracie’s and took a giant slurp. Alex turned back around to Delilah and motioned to Jo, “The one with the juice box.”

“Oh,” Delilah nodded, a strange expression on her face.

“Yeah,” Alex laughed awkwardly, his hand coming up to rub against his neck. “That’s my wife. My pregnant wife, sharing a juice box with your kid. Who I’m about to operate on.”

Alex and Delilah stood in an awkward silence that was only broken by Amelia announcing that Helm was going to run labs for Gracie before they prepped her for surgery. Alex quickly said his goodbyes to Gracie and Delilah, grabbing Jo’s arm pulling her out of the hospital room.

“Geez you’re eager to get out of there,” Jo joked, sipping off her juice box as they walked down the hall. “What’s up with you?”

“She hit on me,” Alex blurted out, turning to Jo with a shocked expression. “Gracie’s mom hit on me.”

There was a beat of silence between the two before Jo burst into laughter, holding a hand to her chest as she tried to contain the giggles coming from her mouth. Jo wiped a few tears from her eyes, "What did you say? Please tell me you froze like an idiot."

Alex ran a hand over his face in hopes of disguising his embarrassment, "I told her I was sleeping with the one drinking the juice box."

"Oh God… Alex," Jo's laughter started up again. She laughed in between her words. "Out of everything... that's what you said? Did you at least say that we're married. I don't need patients thinking I'm servicing the Chief."

"Of course. I'm not that much of an idiot," Alex sighed. "I don't need patients thinking that the Chief of Surgery is a man-whore."

"He used to be," Jo muttered under her breath, nudging Alex with a smirk.

"Shut up," Alex stuck his tongue out, deciding to mess with Jo a bit. "I haven't been like that in years. You know that you're the only person I've slept with in the past six years? You can't exactly say the same."

"Hey!" Jo gasped and slapped Alex on the shoulder. "I thought we agreed to forget about that. Me sleeping with Schmidt was a momentary lapse in judgement. And I only did it because I was trying to get over you."

"Well, would you look at how that worked out," Alex poked her small bump lightly. "You ended up with me anyway."

"I know," Jo groaned. "And now I have to put up with you for the rest of my life."

"You love me," Alex bent down and gave Jo a quick peck on the lips. "Come on, we've got like forty-five minutes before we've got to meet Shepherd in the OR and I'm going to try to force a granola bar or something down your throat."

"We've got forty-five minutes free and all you want to do is make sure I eat something?" Jo shook her head in disappointment. "Gosh, being Chief has really mellowed you out. Who are you and what have you done with Alex Karev?"

"Huh?" Alex looked at her in confusion. "What did you want to do with your free time?"

"Alex, come on. You can't be that clueless," Jo looked at him expectantly. Seeing that he wasn't going to catch on anytime soon, she decided to spell it out for him. "Dude. I'm fifteen weeks pregnant and my hormones are raging right now,"

A look of realization finally crossed Alex's face, "Oh… Oh! You wanna?"

"Yup," Jo nodded and looked at him with an expression that could only be described as hungrily.

"I could be into that," Alex whispered. "Let's get out of here before someone sees me and decides that they need the Chief."

#jolex #jolex fanfic #alex karev #jo karev #grey's anatomy #grey's season 15 #grey's anatomy fanfic #jolex babies #pregnancy hormones #apple juice #sentence prompt #velociraptor #iykyk #grey's fanfic #greys anatomy #jo x alex #jolex forever #jolex endgame #the groupchat

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punksarahreese · 3 years

Text

Together | Murmur

nosdecember day 3 | @neworleansspecial

Mum!Ava, Mum!Sarah; Vivi spends the evening with two of her favourite people while her mums enjoy a night alone

***

"Vivi, slow down," Sarah’s voice carried through the ED as she walked through the sliding doors, a bit exasperated. The toddler in question was way ahead of her, dragging her oxygen cart as she ran up to the nurse’s station, a big smile on her face. She hadn’t a care in the world, even though her mother had warned her that she needed to walk calmly because people were trying to heal.

"Auntie Mee!"

Maggie turned at the high pitched South African accent, looking over the counter with a laugh.

"Vivienne, what are you doing here?"

"Stay with Efan ‘n’ Crogett today," she explained proudly, "Mama-mummy go on date!"

Sarah had caught up to her and looked at Maggie sheepishly, "And now the whole ED is aware of that."

"Oh please, Sarah," the charge nurse raised an eyebrow, "You two are basically married at this point. No need to act so shy about it; it’s good to see that you and Ava have a chance to go out."

Sarah tried to pretend her cheeks weren’t bright red, busying herself with waving Crockett over from across the ED. Maggie was amused to say the least; even after all this time, Sarah still got so shy when it came to her love life. It was funny, considering her and Ava had been together for over four years and had a child. Some things never changed, though.

Vivi was happily accepting a sticker from Monique when a familiar voice made her get distracted. The excitement was endearing when she turned to see Crockett standing beside her mama.

"Uncle Crogett!"

"Hey there, ma petite abeille," he smiled as the child made grabby hands at him, indicating that she wanted up. It was still a shock to him, how much Vivi’s presence made him simultaneously happy and a bit melancholic.

Maybe it was the way her round eyes stared at him that made his heart ache a little. Maybe the stickers holding her cannula in place reminded him a bit too much of Harper’s feeding tube stickers. Maybe it was harder on Crockett than he wanted to let on but there was no way he would ever turn down a hug from Vivi. Even if she did remind him too much of his late daughter, she was alive and she saw him as family in some way; to Crockett that’s all that mattered. He may have only been a family friend but Vivienne had long since saw him as her favourite uncle and he was happy to take on that role. It’s what Harper would have wanted, he thought, a chance for him to make another kid feel loved and happy.

He shook off the bittersweet thoughts, leaning down to pick up the child who was bouncing on her heels excitedly. Vivi was somehow always full of energy, a much needed bit of sunshine in the emergency department. Sarah made sure there was enough slack on her cannula so she didn’t get pulled on as Crockett lifted her up into his arms.

"Stay wif you today?"

"Of course," he nodded, "What do you want to do?"

"Bake!"

Both Crockett and Sarah laughed at that, knowing Vivi would say that. Her favourite pass time was baking with Crockett because she loved being able to create new things. Besides, she loved to make treats that she could share with her mums and the hospital staff. Crockett always had the best recipes and Vivi was happy to help him whenever she could.

"Well, it just so happens that my sister sent me our mama’s beignet recipe recently. Would you like to help me make those?"

She nodded rapidly, "What is?"

Crockett had begun explaining to the child what exactly the pastry was, comparing it to a doughnut. Sarah was listening at first, amused with how intently her daughter was absorbing the information, but quickly got distracted and froze up a little when an arm snaked around her waist.

"Hey, you."

Sarah relaxed immediately upon hearing the familiar accent, "Hey, Avey."

"Did I scare you?" Ava’s gentle laugh was low and comforting in her ear, "Sorry."

"Just jumpy," Sarah replied, "How was work?"

Ava was about to reply but got interrupted by an excited, "mummy!" Vivi having finally noticed that her mother was there.

"Hey, honeybee," Ava reached over and ruffled her hair, "You got uncle Crockett?"

"Mhm!" The child nodded as she fiddled with the purple stethoscope around the doctor’s neck, "We make bengneys today!"

"Beignets, Viv," He corrected gently before turning to her mother, "You look nice, Ava."

Sarah had to agree wholeheartedly, but then again when didn’t Ava look nice? Her dark blue sweater dress was one of Sarah’s favourites on her, though it was notorious for falling off one of Ava’s shoulders no matter how many times she adjusted it. She was a bit taller than Sarah in her heeled boots, obviously aware of the feat because she had been leaning on her girlfriend comfortably since she showed up. She had freed her hair from its braid that had contained it all day, giving her loose waves that framed her face nicely. Yeah, Sarah nodded to herself; Ava looked good.

“Thank you,” she hummed, “You’re sure you’re okay watching Vivi tonight?”

“Absolutely. Don’t worry about us, we’ll make some treats and then annoy uncle Ethan until he reads all our favourite stories, right, Vivvy?”

“Yeah!”

That made both of her mothers laugh a little, knowing Ethan always got stuck reading more than one bedtime story when they babysat. He never really minded, though he did teasingly complain for the sake of it.

“You be good, okay, Vivienne?”

“I will, mama,” she promised, leaning over to hug Sarah. Ava received the same gesture, making the child giggle when she kissed her cheek before pulling away.

“Go enjoy your date,” Crockett insisted as he took Vivi’s backpack from Sarah’s hands, “We’ll be just fine.”

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elisaphoenix13 · 4 years

Text

Papa Bear Mode

Valerie had two stuffed animals she absolutely had to have with her at all times. One was the teddy bear that Peter got when he was turned into a baby for a third time, and passed it down to her. The other was a little stuffed cow that Harley won for her at the state fair. The teddy bear was almost as big as her so she slept against it a lot, but the cow was smaller and much easier to carry around.

At the moment, the toddler was cocooned in a large blanket with her cow in her arms and her teddy bear next to her, and lying on the couch with her head on one of Stephen's legs. When the sorcerer went into her room to wake her for the day, she had whined miserably and Stephen soon discovered the fever she was running. So he took her down to the kitchen to give her something to eat that would be easy on her stomach, gave her some medicine, and then bundled her up on the couch. He put on her favorite cartoon and she promptly laid her head in his lap and stuck her thumb in her mouth.

Athena saw the sick baby in her master's lap, so instead of nudging the little girl so she can have some space in Stephen's lap, the wolf laid at the doctor's feet. That was how most of the morning was spent. At one point, the alarms went off for some kind of Avenger level emergency, and it had startled Valerie out of her light doze so badly that she cried. Stephen stayed behind to soothe her and because someone needed to be home to look after the baby anyway.

Stephen eventually took to gently petting his youngest daughter's hair as he read his book and tuned out the cartoons playing on the tv, but that was cut short when the Avengers got back from their fight. Harley was looking a little sheepish and Stephen soon found out why when Bucky stepped into view.

The man was covered in glitter. From head to toe.

Stephen immediately points in the direction of the elevator. "Get off of my floor with that abominable stuff on you."

"It was Harley." The soldier says after spitting out a few flecks of glitter.

After Bucky carefully shuffles back to the elevator, the sorcerer wrinkles his nose at the small trails and spots of sparkly dust left behind on the carpet. "Harley--"

"Dad asked me to distract the enemy!" Harley immediately defends and Tony pinches the bridge of his nose with a heavy sigh.

"I didn't expect you to use a glitter bomb! How did you manage to sneak that into your suit anyway?"

The rest of the Avengers roll their eyes and walk into the kitchen to raid the fridge for a well-deserved snack, and Natasha walks back into the living room with a bag of baby carrots and some ranch. She sits in front of Valerie on the floor after gently cooing to the baby in Russian, and everyone else either files in to suffer through Valerie's cartoons or remain in the kitchen to have their own conversations. Sam was one of the few that braved the living room, and according to him, Bucky was in firing range of the glitter bomb, so not only had Harley showered the enemy in endless amounts of glitter, but poor Bucky had been caught in the crossfire. That man would be shaking glitter off for the next month.

The upside was that it successfully distracted the enemy. What villain expected a glitter bomb in the middle of a fight?

Stephen sighs. "I don't care if you use glitter bombs in battle...just as long as you don't hit anyone else that can bring it home!" He emphasizes.

"It was an accident!" Harley defends again with a huff.

"Clean the carpet." Stephen orders and the teen groans as he walks away in search of the vacuum cleaner.

Like that would really help.

Tibbs wanders out of Peter's bedroom and down to the living room, jumping over Athena so he can get to the part of the couch Valerie is taking up. He stands in his hind legs, holding himself up with his front paws on the couch and meows curiously at the two year old on the couch. Valerie pries her thumb out of her mouth to reach out and pet the feline, and Tibbs purrs happily just before hopping up onto the couch to lay next to the sick toddler. When Valerie doesn't protest her new companion, Stephen returns his attention to his book.

About half an hour later, Scott and Quill step onto the family floor, each holding one of the twins, and both toddlers looking miserable. Stephen smiles gently and sets up a little nest of blankets and pillows with Natasha's help on the floor after Sam moves the coffee table, and the twins are gently laid on the floor. Valerie willingly moves to join Hunter and Hailey, and both Athena and Tibbs curl up with her as Scott and Quill collapse on the couch where Valerie had previously been.

"Have you given them any medicine?" Stephen asks quietly.

"I couldn't find any." Scott answers and the sorcerer nods and disappears into the kitchen.

"The poor babies." Natasha croons. "Something must be going around."

Stephen walks in with a bottle of medicine for the kids and gives each of them a dose so they can try and go to sleep. Valerie was due for another dose anyway, so they took their medicine without much of a fuss and Stephen changed the cartoons into a Disney movie. Hunter whines for Quill quietly ten minutes into the movie, and the celestial sighs before crawling onto the floor and settling next to his son, grumbling softly when Hunter curls as close as possible to him.

"Get some sleep kiddo."

Natasha smiles. "I'm sure they'll sleep if Papa Bear purrs."

"Give me thirty seconds and I will. I just got off my graveyard shift at the station." Quill responds with a yawn.

Stephen chuckles when the god does indeed fall asleep not even thirty seconds later, his purring snores soothing all three kids into at least a light doze.

"Thanks Stephen." Scott rubs his eyes. "They were fine this morning. It hit them pretty hard and fast."

"It's no problem. It will be easier to keep an eye on them when they're all together anyway." Stephen replies.

Harley comes back with the vacuum cleaner and groans again when he sees the three two-year-olds and Quill all sleeping. "What now?!"

Stephen hushes his oldest and cleans up the glitter with some of his magic. "I'll let you off this once since your sister and the twins are sick. Go put the vacuum back."

Harley grumbles under his breath as he tows the vacuum away. Even at nineteen he was causing trouble. He was responsible when it counted, like going to college...and he always babysat one or both of his sister without much of a fuss. If there was any. He still pulled stupid stunts like the glitter bomb and shooting Quill with his potato gun though.

Stephen was still waiting for the celestial to lose his shit and snap Harley's neck. He was convinced the possibility was on the horizon. Then again, that chance could have passed by after the twins were born. Hunter and Hailey were a whole different breed of troll. They were good kids but always seemed to have some sort of mission to make their father's life difficult. Just yesterday, Stephen went down to see if the twins wanted to watch a movie with Valerie, and found Quill passed out on the couch with both kids sitting on his chest and eating poptarts. Scott was quietly tapping away on his laptop in the kitchen and looked up at Stephen with an amused smirk before explaining that Quill had only been awake for an hour before his impromptu nap. Hunter had taken to streaking across the floor and Hailey tried to pour herself some cereal.

When Stephen asked where the younger man was during all of the chaos, Scott laughed and said…

"Asleep."

Thankfully the twins had been cleaned and dressed before the god tapped out. He was covered in crumbs when he woke up though.

Stephen glances up from his book when he sees Levi fluttering around the two year olds and huffs when the cloak finally settles on laying over the three of them. Levi always acted as a bit of a nursemaid whenever the kids were sick. If a child was part of Mama Bear's collection of cubs, the cloak fussed over them just like Stephen did. Keeping the sick kid warm, getting glasses of water, or in the occasional disgusting moment, as a tissue. Stephen always threw Levi in the wash immediately after. He refused to wear the cloak after having snot and mucus rubbed onto it one way or another.

"Mom, Quill's being too loud." Sam jokes and Stephen waves a hand at him lazily.

"Then go find something else to do."

"Hell no. I wanna watch Finding Nemo."

Natasha snickers. "Come on Mom. Make him stop. We can't hear the tv."

Stephen turns a page in his book. "Scott, do something about your husband's snoring."

"No thanks. You can all deal with it. If he moves, Hunter will wake up and whine."

Nat and Sam smirk and stop with their feigned complaining and the rest of the Avengers remaining on the floor join them in the living room. Stephen and Scott stretch out on the couch they're sitting on, both smirking at the dirty look Tony gives them before he smacks Scott's legs down. The younger grumbles as the engineer sits, and sets Stephen's legs back over his lap while Steve, Rhodey, Wanda, and Vision occupy the other couches.

"Mommmmm...Tony hit me!" Scott whines and Stephen rolls his eyes.

"You know, I'm starting to hate the Mama Bear title again."

Valerie stirs underneath Levi and whimpers. "Mama."

Okay, he was starting to hate it to an extent. He still loved hearing his kids call him some form of it, and he immediately answered to his youngest's plea by closing his book and laying next to her on the floor after getting Athena to make room. Tibbs just sprawled out on top of Levi over Hailey, and Athena laid her head on the sorcerer's side once he settled next to Valerie. Usually an entire team/family pile might have happened, but there were sick babies and they didn't want to suffocate them anymore.

Sam was already using his shirt as a makeshift fan. "Damn tic-tac. How do you sleep in the same bed as Quill? I'm a couple feet away and I can feel the heat he gives off!"

Scott shrugs. "Guess I got used to it."

"I'm concerned your kids are going to be turned into puddles."

"They're used to it too. They'll sweat out the fever faster anyway." Scott answers.

Sam starts poking at Quill's back and shoulders, making the celestial grumble in his sleep.

"Is there a button to turn it off or at least turn it down?"

The darker male continues to poke and prod at the god and Scott snickers when Sam pulls his finger away with a hiss. The last place he poked burning with a small white ember.

"I think he burned me!"

"Guess you found the defense mechanism." Stephen jests and everyone snickers.

#mama bear stephen strange #mama bear au #stephen strange #tony stark #ironstrange #harley keener #peter quill #scott lang #antlord #celestial quill #avengers #valerie stark strange (oc)#hunter harris quill (oc)#hailey meredith quill (oc)

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vannahfanfics · 5 years

Text

The First Time Babysitting

Category: Family Fluff

Fandom: Naruto

Characters: Gaara, Kankuro, Temari, and Shikadai Nara

Gaara sat cross-legged on the floor of his sister's home, smiling slightly as he watched his eight-month-old nephew sprawled out on his belly fervently coloring in a coloring book. The boy still hadn’t grasped the concept of staying in the lines yet, but any time he grabbed the book and held it up for his young uncle to see, Gaara made a point to act as if it were the greatest work of art he had ever clapped eyes on. Shikadai would giggle excitedly and then resume working with gusto. I can’t believe he’s almost a year old already, the Kazekage thought with a small sigh. Next thing you know, I’ll be old…

“Hey, squirt, throw some blue in there,” Kankuro called to the child with a small smirk. His elder brother, and his advisor, was stretched out on the couch with one leg up and his hands behind his head, watching the little boy in amusement. Shikadai blinked up at him, glanced down at his pile of crayons, and stared thoughtfully at them before grabbing the blue one and holding it up to his other uncle. “Yeah. That one!” Kankuro affirmed, and Shikadai grinned before scribbling madly all over the depiction of a puppy he was currently filling in.

“Ugh, I can’t believe this!” came an irritated cry from the kitchen. Gaara and Kankuro both turned as their sister Temari walked into the room wearing an annoyed expression. “Guys, I’m sorry, but I just realized that there were a few things that I left off the shopping list for dinner tonight. You don’t mind hanging out here while I go get them, do you?”

“Nope. Means I can catch a nap,” Kankuro mused and promptly rolled onto his side to face the back of the couch. Gaara narrowed his eyes slightly as Temari walked across the room and leaned down to pick up Shikadai.

“Come on, you’re going to go shopping with Mommy,” she sighed as she lifted the boy into her arms and squatted down to begin cleaning up his coloring workspace.

“Temari, you don’t have to take him. Kankuro and I can watch him,” Gaara offered. Part of him was just being polite, but another part of him really hoped that she agreed; even though Shikadai was already eight months old, he had never actually babysat his nephew for any extensive amount of time. At his brother's offer, Kankuro made a choking sound and abruptly say up with wide eyes. Temari narrowed hers.

“Are you sure?” She asked, her expression betraying hesitation. “I’ll be gone for an hour or two, and Shikadai is a handful sometimes…”

“If I can handle leading the Allied Shinobi Forces to war, I can handle babysitting a toddler,” he frowned up at her. Kankuro whined loudly and flopped back into the couch cushions, but made no move to openly object. Temari glanced down at her precious baby, weighing the options, then nodded and stopped down to set Shikadai back down onto the rug.

“All right. Let me get my things together, and I’ll explain what you need to do,” she agreed and walked out of the room. Gaara smiled at his young nephew and reached out to gently poke him in the forehead.

“Looks like you and I are going to be getting to know each other better.” He grimaced and hurriedly withdrew his hand as Shikadai clamped his mouth on his index finger; slightly disgusted, Gaara wiped off the baby's saliva on his hand while Kankuro snorted with laughter.

About fifteen minutes later, Shikadai was sitting in a high chair banging a plastic spoon around while the two brothers stood with their sister in the doorway.

“Okay. Make sure he eats all of this. He’s picky, so it may take a while,” Temari instructed as she held a jar of baby food out to them. Gaara took it with a nod. “Are you sure you guys don’t need me to explain how to change a diaper again?” She asked with raised eyebrows.

“Come on, Temari, it’s not that hard. We can do it,” Kankuro frowned as he shoved his hands in his pockets and looked doubtfully at the toddler. Temari sniffed, but did not refute him.

“He shouldn’t want to take a nap until after I get back, but on the off chance he does get tired, he usually likes a lullaby before you lay him down into the crib,” she added with a fretful look at Shikadai. He heard Kankuro mutter, “I am not singing to that brat.” “Make sure not to feed him too fast, he may get a stomachache. If he does, I have medicine-"

“Temari,” Gaara interjected with a small smile. “We'll take care of him. Promise. Leave it to us.” Temari blinked at him, then sighed deeply and nodded slowly. Then, with a small wave to her child, she bowed her head to her brothers and exited the house. Gaara closed the door after her, and turned to look at his nephew, who had begun screaming and bouncing in his high chair.

“What have you gotten us into?” Kankuro groaned, then hastily ducked as Shikadai flung the spoon at the front door. The boy laughed hysterically as the utensil landed into Kankuro's brown hair. Gaara smiled and clapped his brother on the back before gripping the jar of baby food and proceeding into the kitchen. Kankuro cursed before following after him with the spoon.

“Okay, Shikadai, it’s time to eat,” Gaara said as he opened the tiny jar and retrieved the spoon from his brother. He scooped up a small spoonful of the party substance and held it to Shikadai's mouth. The boy blinked, then abruptly cried out and flung the spoon away. Gaara jumped as pureed peas and carrots splattered across his face and into his hair. Kankuro blinked, then fell to the floor in a hysterical fit of laughter, while Gaara sighed deeply and cleaned off his face with a napkin. “Shikadai. You have to eat this. Your mother said so,” he frowned and tried again. This time, Shikadai flung the spoon into Kankuro's face, which made him feel slightly better about the whole situation.

“Oh, come on, you little brat,” Kankuro frowned as he wiped his face off with a black sleeve. Snatching the jar and spoon from Gaara, he scooped up the baby food and held it out, but far enough out of Shikadai's reach that it would not be flung a third time. The baby stuck out his tongue before turning his nose up at it.

“I think we have to convince him it’s good,” Gaara frowned.

“What? Ugh, fine,” Kankuro grumbled before chomping down on the spoon. Gaara raised an eyebrow as a visible shudder ran from his brother's toes to the tip of his hair, but to his credit, he swallowed and forced a smile. “See, it’s good. Now eat it,” he huffed and tried again. Shikadai stared at it thoughtfully before inching forward and opening his mouth obediently. Laughing lightly, Kankuro put the spoon in his waiting mouth, and Shikadai ate it and smacked his lips together, a little bit of the baby food leaking out of his mouth.

“Well, that’s a start,” Gaara sighed as Shikadai looked expectantly up at Kankuro and opened his mouth again.

“Yeah. It’s kinda cute,” Kankuro smiled lightly and spooned more of the mixture into the baby's mouth. After that, it was quite easy to get Shikadai to finish off the jar, and after cleaning up the toddler’s face they brought him back into the living room and set him down on the rug. “Now what?” Kankuro blinked as they both stared down at the baby, who was sitting on his behind staring right back at them. They both cried out in alarm as he abruptly began to wail.

“Ah! What’s wrong with him?” Gaara cried.

“Don’t ask me!” Kankuro yelled back. Shikadai raised his hands to his eyes as he cried harder, tears streaming down his chubby cheeks.

“Waaaaaah! Maaaamaaaaa!” he sobbed.

“Eh? He wants Temari!” Kankuro realized, then, with a strained smile, he reached out and awkwardly patted Shikadai's head. “Your mom went to the store. She’ll be back soon, Shikadai. Don’t you want to have fun with your uncles?” Shikadai screamed so loud that Gaara’s rang and slapped Kankuro's hand, making his brother scowl and snap his arm back, cradling it against his chest. “What do we do?” he hissed to Gaara.

“Uh… Uh… What do babies like? Oh!” he gasped and covered his face with both hands. “Peek-a-boo!” he cried and revealed his face, leaning forward. Shikadai stopped wailing and stared at him miserably, sniffling with snot running down his face. It’s working. Gaara covered his face again. “Where's Shikadai?” he asked, then uncovered his face and shot forward again. “There he is!” Shikadai jumped, then giggled and waved his arms in excitement. The toddler then turned to Kankuro, who just stared. Gaara nudged him roughly in the ribs with his elbow.

“What? Oh, man. Fine,” he sighed and covered his face. “Wherrrrrre's Shikadai?” he asked, then repeated his brother's actions. “There he is!” Delighted now, Shikadai laughed uncontrollably. Grinning, the two brothers took turns playing peek-a-boo with the little boy until they were both panting from the effort and Shikadai had fallen onto his back and was kicking his stubby feet into the air. Abruptly, they both wrinkled their noses as a foul smell wafted up from the baby's diaper.

“Oh no,” Gaara frowned as he straightened up.

“I guess we have to change it,” Kankuro nodded. They retrieved the diaper bag Temari had left for them and settled Shikadai on his back on the floor, then frowned as they gazed hesitantly down at the task at hand. “Uh. You do it!” his brother cried and thrust the clean diaper at him.

“You’re the older one. You do it,” Gaara shook his head and thrust it back. Despite what he had said to Temari, this seemed to be a much bigger problem than he had anticipated.

“What happened to ‘I led the Allied Shinobi Forces; I can do anything’?” Kankuro shot back in a mocking voice and slammed him in the chest with the diaper. Gaara felt the wind get knocked out of him, and now that his pride was bruised, he glared at Kankuro and snatched the absorbent underpants haughtily and situated himself in front of the cooing baby. He felt a bead of sweat run down the side of his face as he tried to recall Temari brief instructions. Okay… First I undo these straps here, he recalled and reached down, pulling off the velcro-like straps that secured the diaper. As it dropped open, both he and Kankuro covered their noses and almost retched.

“What died?!” Kankuro wailed with watery eyes. Gaara steeled his nerves and glanced back down at the soiled diaper, having found a new respect for mothers and his sister, and held his breath as he returned to the task. Quickly, he grabbed Shikadai gently by the ankles and lifted him up to wipe his little behind and replace the soiled diaper. Kankuro quickly wrapped it up and jumped up to dispose of the vile thing into the outside trashcan, while Gaara wrestled with placing the new diaper on his nephew.

“No, stay still,” he huffed as Shikadai started to roll onto his belly. Struggling with the straps, he looked up unconfidently at his brother when he returned, who grabbed Shikadai under the arms to hold him up. They both watched miserably as the diaper fell to the floor with a soft plop.

“Well, that’s not right,” Kankuro sighed. Shikadai blinked at them, and then the brothers cried out in disgust as the little boy suddenly decided that it was a good time to empty his bladder. Looking forlornly down at his wet front, Kankuro laid the boy back down and tried to hold onto the last shred of his patience. “You are as annoying as your father,” he grumbled as he snatched up another diaper and fumbled to put it onto the wriggling child. After a few more tries and another unexpected bath, they managed to produce an acceptable product.

“I never want kids,” Kankuro huffed as he watched Shikadai stack blocks on the living room floor. Gaara pulled at the collar of his uncomfortably wet shirt and nodded in agreement. By the time their clothes had dried, they were wondering where Temari was. Suddenly, Shikadai yawned loudly and looked at them, rubbing his eyes sleepily.

“Tired,” he mumbled and promptly flopped over onto his side. Gaara sighed and rose to his feet to walk over to the baby and lift him into his arms.

“All right. Let’s get you to bed,” he huffed and stepped gingerly over the scattered blocks to walk to the baby's bedroom. He flipped on the lights and walked over to the crib, laying him gently down onto his back and putting a stuffed animal beside him. Shikadai screamed in protest and launched it at the red-haired man's face. “What? What did I do wrong?” Gaara shouted and picked the boy back up, holding up the crying baby.

“Didn’t Temari say something about a lullaby?” Kankuro called from the doorstep. Gaara glanced back as his older brother walked into the room and took the young boy out of his hands and propped him up on his chest. Frowning awkwardly, he began to bounce slowly back and forth while humming a soft tune under his breath. Shikadai cried for another minute or so, then began to settle down as Kankuro paced the room and hummed louder. Soon enough, the boy was snoring softly with his head propped on Kankuro’s shoulder.

“Whoa. You’re not half bad at this,” Gaara remarked as his elder brother laid the sleeping child down in the crib, then straightened up and stretched his arms over his head to crack his back.

“Jeez, who knew babies were so heavy?” he groaned, then yawned loudly and cracked an eye open to gaze thoughtfully down at their nephew. “… You know, I don’t think having a kid would be half-bad either.” Gaara looked down at Shikadai, with one arm around a stuffed animal and the other held up by his face as his slept soundly.

“Yeah,” he smiled softly.

~~~~~~~~~~

Temari cursed under her breath as she propped the bag of groceries against the front door and fumbled for the keys.

“I can’t believe I got carried away talking to Sakura… Those boys must be ready to pull their hair out!” she sighed as she retrieved what she was searching for and unlocked the door. The house was strangely quiet as she entered, and she raised her eyebrows as she walked to the kitchen and set the bag down. She walked into the living room, where the only evidence of her son was the blocks scattered across the floor. She stopped down to collect them in her arms and dump them into the nearby toy chest and then stood, putting her hands on her hips. Where are they?

On a hunch, she walked down the hall and found the door to her son's room closed. She gently turned the doorknob and poked her head inside, and then smiled softly.

Her son was snoring softly in his crib. On the floor, her two brothers were sprawled on their backs, dead to the world. Little fools tried their hardest, didn’t they? She thought as she tip-toed into the room and walked over to the crib. She watched her son sleep for a moment, then leaned down into the crib to press a kiss to his forehead. She straightened up and looked down, then smiled and squatted down beside each of her brothers, kissing them on their cheeks.

“Sleep well, my boys,” she murmured before rising to her feet and exiting the room, quietly shutting the door behind her and walking back to the kitchen to prepare dinner.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

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skeletaldarling · 5 years

Text

Full of life and Full of Love 1

A lot of people seemed to like this post right here, I really do too so I'm gonna continue it. (Btw, the title is a lyric from Little Talks by Of Monsters and Men)

@sidespromptblog this hc is still genius, good job

@creativity-killed-thekitten, you liked it last time and I’m bored so I thought I’d continue it,,, I hope you like it

Let me know if you have tips or advice or anything! I want to improve!

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Summary: Patton and Logan are finally going on their first official date tonight and smol Dee is an adorable Dee.

Ship: Logicality, platonic analogical, platonic loceit, mentioned remile

Word count: 1 718

Warnings: Sympathetic deceit, mentioned homophobia, idk, feel free to tell me if I missed something!

Logan quietly opened the door to Dee's room and padded over to the crib that sat against the wall. The yellow and black quilts were pushed to one side and the almost-one year old was lying with his favourite snake toy.

"Hello little one." Logan murmured as he reached into the bed to lift his son into his arms. "How was your nap?"

Dee yawned and blinked slowly. Logan kissed their head as he grabbed 'Mr Snek' and flipped the nightlight off.

Logan kept the toddler distracted for about an hour before he made dinner. Dee loved experimenting with his set of rainbow blocks, he stacked them in size order and admired his work with a series of proud babbling sounds before knocking them over and giggling. Logan laughed with him and scooped him into his lap to tickle his tummy until he was bright red.

Dee cooed as he was set in his highchair. “Dada! Mr Snek!” He called gleefully.

Logan chuckled and passed the plush snake to him. While the toddler played with Mr Snek, Logan started dinner. He had a date with Patton Hart at seven and wanted to feed Dee by then so he could go to sleep and Virgil wouldn’t have to do much when he babysat.

Logan checked the time and mapped out a rough plan in his head while he prepared canned spaghetti on toast, Dee did not appreciate fancy food, his taste was basic and he didn’t like to venture outside his comfort zone.

Logan turned back to the toddler as he babbled at the yellow snake. “Hey Dee-dee.”

Dee looked up and broke into a grin, his birth mark almost looked like a patch on a cat’s face. He reached up and Mr Snek fell from his weak grip, “Snek!” He yelped, he looked up at his Dad with fearful eyes, he sniffled and his bottom lip quivered.

“No no no!” Logan picked it up and handed it back to the upset toddler. “See? There we go baby, it’s okay.”

Dee hugged the plush and started chewing on it immediately.

“Come on little one, let’s have some food first.”

Dee sniffed and ate some food with a grouchy expression. Logan chuckled at his wrinkled nose and kissed his forehead. “Come on Dee, a little bit more, if I didn’t think pretending eating utensils were vehicles was pointless I might tell you that this fork was a airplane, but I’m not going to do that so will you please just take a bite?”

Dee scowled but took a small bite.

“Thank you honey-dee.” Logan smiled. “Dad’s gotta get ready now, can you sit quietly with Snek for a bit?”

Dee wrinkled his nose again and hissed slightly.

Logan snorted. “You’ve got quite the attitude for someone so little.”

He picked him up, ensuring that Dee still had a firm grip on Snek, and carried him to his bedroom.

Dee was sitting in the middle of his dad’s bed, slobbering all over Mr Snek while Dad changed into a blue shirt and a black skirt that reached past his knees. “What do you think Dee?”

“Dada!”

“Thanks baby, docs or flats?”

Dee poked his tongue out and blew a raspberry.

“You -” Logan booped his nose, “- are a fashion genius, thanks honey-dee.”

He tugged his boots on and ran a hand through his hair, which, thankfully, he had remembered to wash.

It was 6:48. “Okay Dee, Virgil’s supposed to get here soon, are you gonna be nice and not difficult?”

Dee giggled and Logan let out a sigh. “You, my little snake, are mischievous.”

Logan carried him out to the living room so he could set him down in the center of his toys. “Honey, play -”

He was cut off by the doorbell.

“Don’t move.” Logan teased.

Dee blew him a raspberry as he opened the door, Logan shot him a look over his shoulder and grinned.

“Hello Virgil.”

The seventeen year old gave him a lazy peace sign and stepped inside, he was wearing his usual hoodie and his violet hair was pulled back in a small ponytail. “Hi Lo.”

“Hmm, you didn’t have to be invited inside, and I was so sure you were a vampire.”

“Ha ha, you’re hilarious.” Virgil said dryly.

Logan smirked. “Dee’s over there.”

Virgil headed over to the toddler and picked him up. “Hey bud. Whatcha doin’?”

Logan smiled at them. He taught English to highschoolers and Virgil was one of his students. He was the best writer Logan had ever taught and after the teacher had defended him from some homophobic punks, they formed a friendship. Virgil was his number one babysitter and adored Dee as if they were siblings. Virgil was almost a second child to Logan at this point, his own parents weren’t so great and Logan would happily have him over, even if it was just to do some homework and relax.

Virgil sat on the couch with the toddler in his lap. “So, you have a date?”

“Yes, and before you start asking questions, his name is Patton Hart, he works at Remy’s cafe, that’s where we met the other day.”

“Is he cute?”

“Virgil.”

“Well?”

Logan groaned. “I don’t have to answer, I’m your teacher.”

Virgil waved him off. “You love me.”

Logan rolled his eyes fondly and checked his eyeliner in the mirror. “How do I look? I asked Dee and he gave me some great advice.”

“Was it Dada or Snek?” Virgil asked. “But you look really good, I like the boots.”

“Of course you do.”

The doorbell rang and Virgil smirked. “Your date’s here.”

“Shut up.” Logan stroked Dee’s hair and walked over to open the door. “Hi Patton.”

“Hey Lo!” Patton greeted.

Logan stepped aside. “Come in for a moment, I’m just gonna grab my stuff. This is Virgil by the way, he’s watching Dee while we’re out.”

Virgil waved. “Hey.”

“Hello, hi Dee!” Patton came over to sit next to them.

“I like your dress.” Virgil said as he played with Dee’s hair.

“Oh thank you!” Patton was wearing a light blue dress, long sleeved with a thin gold belt and a sleeveless denim jacket that went with his white knee length cat socks.

Logan reappeared with a navy shoulder bag. He knelt in front of Virgil and stroked his son’s cheek. “I’ll be back after bedtime, okay? I’ll see you tomorrow morning, be nice to Virge for me. Love you honey-dee.” He kissed Dee’s forehead and squeezed his shoulder lightly. “Thanks Vee, we’ll be back by 10 but I’ll message you if our plans change, just put him to bed in twenty minutes. Keep in contact, you know the rules.”

“I know, have fun.”

“Bye, let’s go Patton.”

Patton stood and waved at Dee. “Bye guys.”

Logan led him out and waved to Virgil.

“You look adorable.” Logan admitted as they walked down the street.

Patton beamed. “Thanks! You look really nice too, I like the pins.”

Logan glanced down at his bag where the small collection of badges were. A rainbow, a brain, a moon and stars and a cloud that read I’m not sorry for your fragile masculinity.

Patton linked their hands, and a blush spread across Logan’s cheeks.

“So, are you going to tell me where we’re going?” Patton asked.

“Not yet, we’re getting food to take to a surprise location.” Logan said as they turned a corner.

“And we’re walking?”

“It’s not far. I always liked this time of day, almost dark, everything seems calmer and more relaxed, I enjoy walking around here.”

Patton nodded. “That makes sense, it is pretty around here. I love the clouds, they’re beautiful.”

Logan looked up at the pink tinged sky, covered in smudges of orange and gold. “Yes, I suppose they are.”

Patton looked at him and smiled. God, his eyes were a fascinating blue, he was truly the cutest man Logan had ever seen. He smiled back and they kept walking, swinging their intertwined hands slightly.

“Here we are.” Logan announced. “They make the best burgers here.”

Patton looked down. “Um, I’m vegetarian.”

“That’s okay, I come here all the time with Remy and his boyfriend, Emile, he’s a vegetarian too and he absolutely loves their veggie burgers. They also have great fries.”

Patton’s bright smile returned. “Cool!”

They ordered their food to-go and walked out again.

“It’s not far, I promise.” Logan said as he guided Patton along the path.

They soon reached the place Logan was taking them, a park.

“It doesn’t seem like much but, this place is pretty and it’s fun and I really love bringing Dee here to lie on the grass and watch the sky.”

“Wow, Lo, this is actually really pretty.”

Logan led him over to a grassy spot by the playground and they sat. No one else was here, they had the place to themselves to eat and laugh and talk. Patton loved the burger, he loved the park, he loved the neighborhood, he was cheerful and bubbly and Logan found himself flustered and blushing every time Patton giggled or smiled. He was a waiter at Remy’s cafe, he loved working there, he really liked Remy and Emile and thought it was really cool that Remy and Logan were brothers.

Patton watched Logan talk about his job as a teacher, how talented Virgil was as a writer and how much he loved his son. He could talk about Dee for days and Patton could happily watch him.

“It’s almost 10.” Patton sighed, they were lying together on the grass watching the sky darken while holding hands. “Maybe we should go.”

“Probably, I really liked this though.” Logan said as he stood and stuffed their rubbish into his bag. “I’d love to do it again.”

“Absolutely! I love spending time with you.” Patton said, an adorable blush spreading under his freckles.

“I’m glad.” Logan murmured as they walked home again.

They reached Patton’s car and he stopped walking, he turned to Logan, his pale face glowing in the moonlight. “I should go, I really loved spending time with you Lo.”

“I feel the same way, Pat.”

They smiled and leaned forward to close the gap. When they pulled away, Logan was speechless.

Patton giggled softly. “Goodnight Logan Croft.”

“Goodnight Patton Hart.” Logan whispered as the smaller man climbed into his car and drove away.

#sander sides #logicality #tiny!sides #logan sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #thomas sanders #ts #ts sides #platonic loceit #small deceit #dad logan #tw deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #rj fic #full of life and full of love #folfol

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gbyesummer · 6 years

Photo

hello baby

For Day 1 of Namseok Week, First Time(s)

The first time Hoseok babysits his nephew, he asks Namjoon to come along with him.

"Okay, then you fold that over... and then just stick down the straps and you're done."

Hoseok follows Namjoon's instructions more carefully than he's ever done anything in his life. He holds the diaper front with only his forefinger and thumb and holds the straps just as gingerly. He checks three times to make sure he’s not strapped it on too tight, only accepting he’s done a good job once his nephew sits up and puts his pants back on without complaint.

Jihoon babbles out something that Namjoon's mind doesn't even register as words. He reaches out for Hoseok's hands, but Hoseok quickly pulls them away. "Hold on, big guy. I gotta wash my hands first."

He leans forward to kiss the toddler’s fingers instead, and Jihoon laughs before babbling again. Namjoon for the life of him cannot wrap his head around what he’s saying, but Hoseok easily responds, “Yeah, you can come with me! Ask Uncle Joonie to help you up.”

Jihoon walks to the edge of the bed to hook his arms around Namjoon’s neck. “Up, Uncle!”

That, Namjoon understands. “Alright, up we go!”

Namjoon watches from the bathroom door as Hoseok washes his hands, Jihoon latched onto him from behind in a piggyback.

"You really haven't done this before, huh?"

“Nope. I’m the baby in my family. Everyone else took care of me.” After his hands are dry, he reaches out to take Jihoon and nuzzles against the child’s neck. “Jihoonie’s the first baby in our family in a long time.”

Jihoon says something, and once again Namjoon is confused. But Hoseok laughs and says, “Yeah, you’re a baby, Jihoon.” Namjoon doesn’t realize he’s making a face until Hoseok looks at him and asks, “What? What’s so funny?”

He shakes his head and follows them into the living room. “I may know how to change a diaper and smash up food, but you’re the only one here who can talk to him.”

Hoseok shrugs. “Spend enough time with him and you learn how he talks. But noona’s the true magician—she can understand everything. I only know about 50 percent of what he says.”

When they sit on the couch, Jihoon jumps down from Hoseok’s arms and grabs a book from the bookshelf. He climbs back up and hands it to Namjoon with a sweet, “Read please?” before settling on Hoseok’s lap. It puts him just high enough that if Namjoon rests the book open on his knees, Jihoon can look over and see the pictures.

It’s a short and easy children’s book, and Namjoon thinks he’ll be asked to read five more before they leave. But after reading each page, Jihoon reaches across and points at the pictures, telling Namjoon something every time. Hoseok saves him from any confusion by repeating what Jihoon says, and Namjoon is happy to hold short conversations with him. He even gets Jihoon to laugh a couple of times, which makes Hoseok smile.

At the end of the book, Jihoon starts talking to Hoseok, and Namjoon leans back to just watch and listen to them. Hoseok has definitely underestimated his own abilities. He could have babysat Jihoon all by himself and done an amazing job. Still, he’s grateful Hoseok asked him to come along tonight. It’s worth it to watch Hoseok pull a funny face and hear Jihoon’s laughter, high-pitched and bright, to watch Jihoon reach up and cup Hoseok’s face in his tiny hands. Namjoon is sure he has a goofy smile on his face.

Hoseok notices his silence and asks, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Namjoon says. He leans forward and kisses Hoseok’s cheek, right by his ear where he’s ticklish. Hoseok squeals in complaint. Jihoon squeals in delight, laughing at how Hoseok hugs him when he moves away from Namjoon.

Namjoon just moves closer, aiming to place a kiss in the same spot. Hoseok stands up, carrying Jihoon with him and zooms to the other side of the room. Jihoon thinks it’s a game, screaming, “Tag! Tag! Tag!”

They spend the last hour before Hoseok’s sister and brother-in-law come home chasing each other around the apartment in a mix of tag and hide-and-seek. Jihoon moves from Hoseok’s arms to Namjoon’s, then back again as they find and tag each other, laughing and babbling all the while.

The kid is tired out before his parents get home, climbing onto the couch and curling up on Hoseok’s chest. Hoseok leans back to rest his head on Namjoon’s lap with a sigh. “I’m pooped.” Jihoon giggles at the word ‘poop,’ then closes his eyes and drifts off to sleep.

“Wha time’s it?” Hoseok asks, eyelids heavy. Instead of answering, Namjoon strokes his hair. “You’re makin’ me sleepy, Joon.”

Namjoon continues the motion, combing his hair back with his fingers. “You’ve got time for a nap. I’ll clean up.”

He carefully switches his lap out for a pillow, and Hoseok hums before settling on his side, Jihoon lying safely between him and the back of the couch. He said he would clean, but he can’t help but crouch down on the floor to watch them. Jihoon starts sucking on his fist as he sleeps, and Hoseok tucks his head against his hair, curling into the warmth.

Namjoon has imagined a future with Hoseok before, but this is the first time he’s imagined it like this. Married with 2.5 kids, waking up in the middle of the night to take care of a crying baby, cuddled in bed reading to their children and eventually having their children read to them.

He knows it wouldn’t be like this every day—easy diaper changes, no fussing or crying. There would be stress, fights, all kinds of worries to deal with. But this night has shown him that this kind of happiness would be worth all of that.

This happiness with Hoseok.

“Babe,” he whispers.

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

Hoseok lifts his head a bit to look at him. He's halfway to sleep, but a dimpled-smile breaks out across his face before he lies back down. “Love you, too,” he mumbles.

#namseok #hopemon #94z #namseok week #titled it hello baby because i miss that show #imagine bts on it #i m a g i n e #p: namseok #f: bts #s: namseok week #my fic #my edit #nsw2018 #op

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not-close-to-straight · 7 years

Text

“Offline” (Chapter One)(#00Q)

MASTERLIST HERE

Enjoy :)

**********************

“You’re my new Quartermaster.” It was a statement, but the disbelief in the voice made it sound more like a question, and Q braced himself before turning around, ready for another round of questions about his age, his looks, his level of skill and the inevitable-- this must be a joke, where’s the real Quartermaster?

“Yes. Nice to meet you, 007.” Q said flatly, keeping his expression carefully blank as he studied the agent in front of him. Bond was still favoring his right shoulder, which wasn't a good sign, and he hadn't shaved in a few days either. The slight whiff of alcohol, but this was England, and he was an agent, so nothing less was to be expected. A stubborn jaw, and more frown lines than smile lines, and glacier blue eyes that were studying Q just as intently as Q was studying him.

“Charmed, I'm sure.” was all Bond said after several minutes, and Q gave a short nod before going back to his computers, picking up his cup of tea and taking a sip before clicking back into his system.

“Oh, hello James!” Eve walked through the doors. “M is looking for you, but he wanted to be sure you met the Quartermaster first.”

“Yes, we’ve met.” Bond said without looking away from the back of Q’s head. “A bit young isn't he?” he lowered his voice so only Eve could hear him. “He’s still got his spots. How did Six even find him?”

“He found us.” Eve kept her voice appropriately quiet as well. “He hacked our system to download his own plans for our surveillance system, and then told the agents who tracked him down that it was about bloody time they found him, and if they had his system they would have found him faster.”

“Cheeky bastard.” Bond couldn't help the thread of admiration in his voice and Eve inclined her head in agreement.

“M thought so as well. Bloody brilliant though.”

“Hm.” Bond narrowed his eyes. “Little thing. I could break him in half if I wanted.” he put his hand on the small of Eve’s back and steered her towards the doors. “Lets go see what M wants, shall we?”

They were almost out of the room when the Quartermaster spoke again. “Bond?”

“Q.”

“You could try to break me in half, but I have my doubts as to your effectiveness.”

“What did you say?” Bond had taken three steps toward the man before Even managed to stop him. “What did he say to me?”

“You could always prove me wrong, I suppose.” The boffin turned to send him an appraising look, cocking a head full of unruly hair. “Old dog and new tricks and all that.”

“Did he just call me an old dog?” Bond demanded, and Eve tried not to laugh as she dragged him out of the room.

Q smiled the littlest bit before going back online to the mission in Nicaragua. “Alright, 002, let’s get you out of there, shall we?”

*************************

“Bond, what the hell are you doing?”

“What does it look like I'm doing?” Bond answered irritably, stripping off his tie to wrap it around his arm, trying to stem the flow of blood from a gunshot that had grazed him. “I could stop of course, if you prefer me bleeding out on the basement floor of this hotel.”

“I'd prefer if you listened to my directions and then didn't end up shot!” Q sounded exasperated, half past furious really, and Bond briefly considered tossing the earpiece away. The old Q had never felt the need to listen in on his missions, but apparently this one did.

“Q, I've had you in my ear for thirty six hours now and you are starting to get on my nerves.” Bond pulled the tie tight, and jumped back up to his feet, shoving his gun in his back holster. “Tell me how to get out of this place.”

“Well since you decided to take a detour instead of following my directions the first time--”

“Tell me how to get the hell out of here first, and then I can listen to you preach later!” Bond interrupted. “Be useful for more than scolding me for using too many bullets and complaining that I don't listen to you! Is your job to help me or to berate me?”

“There’s an elevator. Three floors up and then a hundred yards to your right, around the corner, top floor, I have an extraction chopper en route. Try not to kill anyone on your way, please.”

“No promises.” Bond grunted and took off running up the stairs, cursing under his breath every time he turned a corner and there were more stairs. He was getting too old for this shit.

*********************

**********************

It wasn't until Bond had been extracted and deposited in a safe house that Q spoke again.

“At least tell me you managed to get the computer chip? Otherwise you killed all those men for nothing.”

“Christ!” Bond jumped and cursed, his hand flying to his gun automatically, cursing all over again when he heard the amusement in Q’s voice.

“At ease, 007.”

“I got the computer chip.” he groused, put off by being caught unawares. “Why don't you get the hell out of my ear? The mission is over and I'm halfway to drunk and certainly not going anywhere tonight.”

“It's my job to be present with you at all times until you are back on our soil, 007. I may not be speaking, but I am listening, and if you need anything you only need to say it.”

“And if I take this annoying thing out of my ear? How on earth will you keep tabs on me then?” Bond goaded, pouring himself another drink and heading towards the bedroom.

“I will tap into the hotel systems and observe you this way. It's for your own protection 007. Welcome to the new millennium, someone is always watching, and for you, that someone is me.”

“Seems to me as if I'm being babysat.”

“Yes, well, if you didn't spread wanton destruction about you as a toddler does, you wouldn't need a nanny, would you?”

Bond ripped the earpiece out and threw it across the room.

Brat.

***********************

“Q.” Bond dropped his watch, his gun and his phone on Q’s desk. “My equipment returned as ordered.”

“I ordered it returned in one piece.” Q had an entirely irritating habit of never taking his eyes off the half a dozen screens in front of him, one hand constantly typing, the other usually taking notes or lifting his cup to take a sip. “And where is the rest of it.”

“Oh, didn't your predecessor tell you? I am notorious for not returning things, you’re lucky I brought anything back at all.” Bond was grinning, or rather, smirking in that infuriating way, eyes narrowed as he watched Q for any reaction to his words.

“You know as well as everyone else that I never met the former Q, but I was warned as to your penchant for ruining your tech. Tell me, did you drive over your phone on purpose, or is that just normal wear and tear on a mission?” The Quartermaster still hadn't looked at him, and Bond couldn't believe how angry that made him.

“If you had ever set foot in the field, you would know the answer to that question.”

“I know the answer to that question and every other one you will probably ask me.” Q said calmly. “I was just curious as to what your answer would be. If you would lie to get into my good graces, or be your usual blunt self just to irritate me.”

“I'll have you know--”

“Not that way, please, thank you. When I said right I mean it.” Q interrupted and when Bond looked at him blankly, Q tapped his earpiece, then pointed to the screen. “You didn't think I was staring at the screens just to avoid looking at you, did you 007? I have a whole other mission going on, which is why I must ask you to leave the remnants of your tech and let me be.”

“I did think you were avoiding looking at me.” Bond stated and Q seemed to twitch a little, which was… interesting. “It must be difficult for you to look agents in the eye, young thing like you. 00’s are some of the most dangerous people in the world, and you are--”

“The power behind them.” Q finished. “You are a blunt instrument Bond, and I am the high tech that makes you useful. Now if you’re quite done--”

“You still haven't looked at me.” Bond cut in, not even sure why he was insisting on it, but something about the way Q was suddenly on guard, the way he was pushing him away made Bond want to press the issue. “The least you could do is make eye contact, or is that difficult for you, considering you spend all your time behind computers and not in the real world?”

“The real world.” Q nodded, then sighed and put his keyboard down, finally turning to face Bond. “Forgive me, Bond. I tend to forget that the blinking dots on my screen and the voice in my ear belong to real people.”

“Oh.” Bond was taken aback by the apology. “Well then.”

“Yes. Well then.” Q faced him fully, looking young as hell in fitted slacks and a button up shirt under an ugly cardigan, his hair rumpled and green eyes hidden behind a pair of glasses. “Welcome home, Bond. Kudos for a safe return and all that.”

“Hm.” Bond replied, and spent an inordinate amount of time looking the Quartermaster over. “You really do have spots, don't you?”

“Rather spots than grey hair.” Q responded primly, and turned back to his computers. “Till next time, 007. Ta.”

Bond had left Q branch and made it halfway to the garage to fetch his car before he could even begin to think of an appropriate response, and by then of course, it was too late.

“Impertinent little shit.” he muttered as he slammed the car to his door.

But he smiled, just a twich of his lips really, because despite the new Quartermasters age and frankly infuriating attitude-- Bond liked him.

It had been a while since he had been challenged, with most agents and support at Six going out of their way to avoid him, or make sure he had what he needed so there was no reason for him to speak to them at all.

Bond new that since Vesper he had become nearly impossible to work with. He knew M was worried that he would never fully recover, he knew they wondered if he killed because he liked it, because he didn't feel any remorse for it anymore.

Maybe he did.

Vesper had taken such a big piece of his heart, sometimes Bond didn't think it beat anymore. And no one knew that he didn't sleep with women or men anymore on his missions. Seduce them yes, but it was easy enough to seduce someone without actually completing the act, or to satisfy them, and then beg off before they tried to reciprocate. Most of them ended up dead anyway, so there was no reason to worry, he supposed.

In fact, it had been so long since Bond had felt anything resembling desire that it had been a shock to think that he was attracted to the new Q. And he wasn't, not really, it was just the challenge the man presented that had Bond intrigued.

He could match wits with the Quartermaster, but his heart was long past anything like that.

******************

Q watched from his desk as 007 tore out of the garage and headed towards the street. The cameras in the area ran constantly, but it was set to alert him anytime anyone set foot in the garage.

Safety, of course.

He had been warned that Bond wasn't alright, that he had developed an overly eager trigger finger and killed almost indiscriminately since returning after the debacle with Vesper. Q knew Bond had killed almost everyone he came across on the last mission, and still had been able to have a drink and sleep the entire night.

It was fascinating, and horrifying that he could detach like that, and Q knew better than to think about it.

But he watched anyway as Bond left, and smiled thinking about the look of shock on the agent’s face when he had made the comment about grey hair versus spots.

This was going to be an interesting partnership, between them.

Interesting, indeed.

******************************

#ncts fics #00q #james bond #q #quartermaster #q branch

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the-kings-tail-fin · 7 years

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How about a short fic where when Cal is a kid and he's being babysat by Lynda and Strip and while they're both asleep,Cal decides to give Strip a new paint job (bright pink) and when they wake up Lynda is laughing and Strip doesn't know why until he sees himself in the mirror. 😂

I’M WHEEZING. THIS ASK IS BRILLIANT, ANON, BRILLIANT. BLESS YOU.

THIS FIC WENT A LITTLE LONG. ENJOY!

Cal’s parents needed some time off from raising the sweet, but rambunctious toddler, so they decided to go out of town for a few days and drive around the countryside. They dropped Cal off with Strip and Lynda, who at the time had nothing better to do. To say that the kid kept them busy would be an understatement.

The first day was spent child-proofing the house. They couldn’t figure out how on earth Cal kept getting into the places he was. He tried to climb Strip’s trophy showcase, nearly knocking it over. He then found his way onto the kitchen table and started pretending it was a circle track. Lynda later found him inside a cabinet chowing down on something he most certainly should not have had in his mouth. If they didn’t keep tabs on him at all times, he would be gone in an instant and up to no good.

“Why can’t you just stay in one place?” Lynda asked him, cleaning up a vase he’d accidentally knocked over while zooming around the living room.

Cal responded in garbled toddler-speak. He flashed her that big, innocent smile that melted her heart. She couldn’t be annoyed with him if she wanted to.

“Cal, come ‘ere.” Strip called from the next room, hoping to get the kid’s attention away from his wife long enough for her to clean up the mess.

Cal immediately whipped into the living room to see what his uncle wanted. Seeing the big, decorated racecar was a treat in and of itself for the kid, even if he had no grasp on why.

“Look at that.” Strip gestured to the TV on the wall across from where he was parked. He had it tuned to RSN to watch the stock truck racing. “You see them? You like racin’, right? Why don’t you park over here next to me and watch this.”

Cal revved his tiny little engine and made vroom noises with his mouth at the same time. He became fixated on the TV, watching the racers go around the track. Strip watched his nephew. Cal would lean to the left every time the pack went around a turn and make noise to supplement it. Strip couldn’t help but smile. Even when the commercials came on, Cal was still in his own little world, making noise like he was out there racing.

Then a Dinoco commercial came on. Strip sighed a little, he didn’t really care to see himself on TV. All Dinoco’s commercials had either clips of him winning races or posing for something. This caught Cal’s attention. He became quiet for the first time all day. Then he reached out with his tire to tap Strip, and pointed towards the TV.

“Ship! Ship!” he repeated enthusiastically. His uncle looked down at him, confused.

“Whatever you’re trying to say, kid, it ain’t makin’ it though the language barrier.” he said, knowing Cal wouldn’t understand him.

“I think he’s tryin’ to say your name.” Lynda interpreted, coming into the room to join them.

Strip looked back down at Cal, who was staring back up at him with wide eyes. Then, the race came back on, and Cal revved his engine, resuming his previous state of pretend-racing. Strip smiled again. If this kid was to become a racer one day, he’d be good. There was no denying it.

“I’m exhausted.” Lynda said, yawning. “It’s only 7:30 and I’m ready for bed.”

“Yeah.” Strip agreed. “Hopefully he will be too, before long.”

An hour later, Lynda tucked Cal in in the guest room across the hall from their bedroom. Cal passed out almost immediately, more worn out than he let on.

“Finally, some quiet.” Strip said as Lynda joined him in their room.

“Enjoy it while it lasts.” she replied. "I’m gonna leave the door open, so we can hear if he tries to get up.”

“You mean so you can hear if he tries to get up.”

“Yeah, yeah… You know, you’d sleep through a hurricane if there was no one to wake you up.”

Not twenty minutes later, the little putter of an engine came through the doorway. Cal wedged himself right in between Strip and Lynda, wiggled around a little bit, and went right back to sleep.

The next day was a little more laid back, as Cal grew tired of exploring the house and climbing on things. Lynda kept him busy doing arts and crafts in the kitchen most of the day. At one point, Strip took him out in the back yard and let him pretend he was a racer, going in circles around the yard. Strip used chalk paint to put a 42 on Cal’s side, absolutely making the kid’s day and boosting his confidence (a little too much). Cal ended up crying, somehow stuck in a bush, and so they came back inside. Cal was content painting pictures for his parents the rest of the evening.

They were starting to get the hang of the whole babysitting thing. Again that night, Cal didn’t want to sleep alone, and joined them at some point after he was supposed to be asleep.

The sunlight came through the window the next morning, waking them up. Lynda was the first to fully awaken. She looked down at Cal, still snoozing away at her side. She saw he had bright pink splatters on his little hood and fenders, and was a bit confused at first. He hadn’t gotten any paint on him yesterday while doing crafts. She looked around the room and saw the can of paint laying open on the floor on the other side of the room. He must have gotten into it last night without her knowing about it, she concluded.

Then she looked over at her husband, and had to bite her lip to keep from busting out in laughter. Strip opened his eyes a little, waking up. Lynda couldn’t contain herself. She started laughing so hard she couldn’t breathe, let alone speak. Strip looked at her, confused. Mornings did not typically start out like this for him. Why was she laughing? He looked down at Cal, who was still sleeping like a rock. He blinked a couple times, and Lynda just pointed at him and kept laughing. He rolled forward a little bit and saw the can of paint sitting on the floor. Dread came over him, and he looked in the mirror on the other side of the room.

“Are you kidding me.” he groaned. His entire left side was slathered with messy hot pink paint, from his tires all the way up to his door handle, as high as Cal could reach. Somehow the kid had even got the side of his spoiler and the left half of his hood splattered in the stuff.

Lynda finally gathered herself for a second and took a couple deep breaths. “I can’t take it. I can’t deal with it.” she said, sounding exasperated.

“You’re laughing now, but you’re the one who’s gonna hafta clean it off.” Strip said, slightly annoyed. “How did he even manage to do this? You were supposed to keep an eye on him!”

“Don’t blame me.” she defended herself, starting to laugh again. “You somehow slept through a three year old giving you a paint job. That’s on you. But don’t worry, I think it’s washable.”

“It better be.” Strip grumbled.

Cal was awake by that point, looking around at his aunt and uncle. He slowly, sleepily rolled across the floor towards them. He only seemed to remember what he’d done the night before when he passed the can of paint. He looked at it and giggled, then looked at his uncle and giggled some more. Strip gave him a disappointed look, but Cal came over to him and snuggled up to his side.

“Ship.” Cal said with a big smile.

“Awww.” Lynda was completely under Cal’s spell. “That’s just adorable.”

Strip sighed, looking down at Cal. The kid was instantly forgiven, if but for nothing else than sheer cuteness.

Lynda laughed a little again. “Alright, come on now, Cal. We gotta go clean all this paint off before your mama and daddy come back.”

Cal squealed in excitement and followed her out the door. Strip looked at himself one more time in the mirror, and again, couldn’t help but smile a little. That kid was something else.

#strip weathers #lynda weathers #cal weathers #baby cal

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