#fortunately there’s another baby in the house to fill the need for snuggles and lap naps and baby giggles

[idy-ll-ique]

Just Peachy.

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x F!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: mentions of injuries and blood, overall very fluffy and cute

Requested: nope

Summary: in which Y/N gets hurt and Ransom is the perfect fiancé.

Author's Note: hiya peeps! ok im gonna say it,,, im a hoe for soft!ransom idc idc. enjoy!

---

"If anything happens while I'm at work, if you get hurt, don't hesitate to call me, alright? I'll be home in 15 minutes. Just call." Wise words by Ransom Drysdale, her fiancé.

Was she going to do that? Nope! Y/N grumbled from her position on the ground; she was walking down the stairs when she had tripped and fallen, ending up in a heap on the floor with one ankle definitely broken and a cut on her temple. Slowly, as the pain got too much to bear, she started crawling to the best of her abilities towards the bathroom to get the first aid kit.

As she neared the bathroom her hopes went up, until she saw the cupboard above the sink on top of which the first aid kit was kept. "Who fucking keeps it so high up?" she cursed under her breath as she grabbed the sink, slowly standing up, praying the sink wouldn't break under her as she applied her full body weight on the poor thing. She was successful.

Now putting her entire weight on her good foot, she reached up and, severely underestimating the weight of the kit, yanked it up, causing the heavy box to come crashing down on her. "Damn it, fucking son of a—" she cursed loudly as the box knocked her off her already weak feet. She fell on her back with a grunt and the heavy box landed on her chest, forcing her to exhale a breath. "Fuck."

Y/N forgot to hear a painful crunch.

She started lifting her hands to push the kit away when a sharp pain shot through her left wrist, causing her to wince. "Oh, great, another broken limb? Just what I needed. Great. Fucking peachy," she muttered and shoved the box away with her right hand, moving to sit up. She tried to crawl out of the bathroom but this time, with only one hand to support her, the task was perilous.

Ransom tapped his fingers on his desk at work in the tune of his favorite song, frowning at the blank open document in front of him. He was working on his second book, but today, inspiration was nowhere to be found. No ideas were coming to his head on how to proceed with the next chapter. I wonder what Y/N is doing, he thought and smiled softly at the thought of his fiancée.

Ransom and Y/N met at a party thrown by a mutual friend. He was being his usual, bitter self in the gardens outside the lavish mansion (yes, a mansion) when Y/N had approached him first. "Hi there, I'm Y/N. I noticed you were being too quiet and you slipped out, and wondered if you wanted to talk to someone?"

He wanted to push her away for talking to him like that, especially since he left the house for a reason, but instead he just smiled at her. A genuine smile. "I'd like that a lot." And so, they talked. Ransom was proud to announce that he had first fallen for her nature, her personality and her demeanor instead of her looks, which was what made their relationship special.

At least for Ransom, given the type of man he used to be.

Y/N was extremely gorgeous in his eyes. That was simply an added bonus. By the end of the party, both of them had walked into the house again and Ransom had put on quite a show about asking her out to dinner, which she readily agreed to. She knew what kind of a man he was; spoiled, full of himself and had a big attitude problem but that one talk with him changed her perception of Ransom Drysdale.

He was truly nice to the people he cared about, one of them being her. They talked for a short while and he was nothing short of polite, sweet and funny at times. He flirted endlessly since that was part of his personality but she didn't mind, she liked it, even. Ever since that day, they were inseparable and now, 4 years later, engaged.

"Fuck shit, fuck shit, fuck shit…" Y/N chanted as she slowly crawled to the living room, the pain in her body increasing by the minute. Finally putting her pride aside, she grabbed her phone off the couch and called Ransom, falling to the floor with deep breaths. Ransom's eyes snapped away from his laptop and landed on his phone when it started ringing.

Grinning, he picked up the call when Y/N's smiling face came into view. The moment she spoke, though, his grin dropped. "Hugh…" Y/N choked out, eyes filling with tears when the pain finally caught up to her. "Y/N? Bubba, what's wrong?" he asked worriedly, immediately leaping to his feet. He shut the laptop, grabbed his coat and stormed out of his office, towards his car. Work be damned.

"It's— it's nothing. I'm sorry for calling, I know you're busy—" He nearly scoffed. "Babe, listen to me. You're more important. I'm coming home, I just left the office. Speak to me, bub, tell me," he insisted as he drove like a madman towards his house. "Just got hurt a little bit," Y/N mumbled and Ransom's heart broke. "Darling, I'll take care of it when I get home."

Thankfully, 15 minutes later, he reached home. Ransom hurriedly parked his car and threw open the front door, freezing when he saw his fiancée lying near the couch on the floor, the phone still in her hand as her eyes snapped away from the ceiling towards him. "Ransom," she stuttered and he walked towards her, kneeling next to her. His thumb swiped the blood on her temple.

God, did he want to punch her on her stupid, beautiful face for telling him she was just a little hurt. "Bub, what's this?" He picked her up and placed her on the couch, moving to take her hand but it fell limp… in a weird angle. His eyes widened. "Is your wrist broken?" he whispered and Y/N nodded, turning away from him. "And you had the fucking audacity to tell me it was nothing?!" he screamed.

She kept silent as he checked the rest of her body, finding out that her ankle was broken as well, the skin around it swollen black and blue. "You're a fucking dumbass, you know that?" he muttered as he called a doctor, sitting on the floor next to the couch. "I didn't want to disturb you." She was wheezing and he turned to her, only to see her clutching at her chest with a pained expression on her face.

"Baby?"

"Hurts." He sat up and ripped the t-shirt off her, eyes darkening when they landed on the bruise forming on her chest and between the valley of her breasts. "What the fuck happened when I was gone?" he hissed as he covered her up again. "I… I fell down the stairs first and broke my ankle," she began, fidgeting. "Well you should've called me then!" he insisted, exasperated.

"I didn't want to be a burden," she admitted in a small voice and Ransom's resolve broke. He teared up a bit and pressed his lips to hers, shaking his head. "You're not a burden, Y/N. I told you, if you're hurt at home, call me. I meant it. Even if it's a paper cut, call. Even if it's a skinned knee, call. I'm always here for you, and I always will be here." Y/N sniffled under him.

"Ransom…" He gently sat her up and sat next to her, only to pull her on his lap as he held her close. "Don't you dare think you're a burden ever again. I signed up for this. A burden is something you're not willing to carry. This? I'm willing to carry this to the end of the world," he whispered, squeezing her body as tightly as he could without crushing her. "I love you, Ran."

I love you, too.

"I know, sweetcheeks." And he grinned when her head shot up and she promptly slapped him on the cheek. "You're so full of yourself, Drysdale," she huffed. "You still love me," he hummed as she snuggled into his arms. "Fortunately for you, unfortunately for me, yeah, yes I do," she sighed.

Soon, the doctor arrived, patched her up and said the worst thing she had ever heard in her life.

"Bedrest for 2 weeks till the ankle heals."

And seeing Ransom's shit-eating grin had caused her to glare so viciously at him that even he had cowered. "Babe, doctor's orders, can't help it." After the doctor left, they were now laying side by side on their bed, staring at each other. "I can't just sit here with nothing to do!" she whined, snuggling closer to him. He put an arm around her, sighing.

"Well, face the reality, kitten. You're staying here and that's an order."

"Funny you think you can boss me around, sweetheart."

"I know I can't but this time, I will. I'll strap you down to the bed, mark my words," Ransom said with a roll of his eyes. "Kinky," Y/N snickered and Ransom kissed her nose with a smirk. "You are not getting up, Mrs Drysdale," he whispered and she pouted, jutting her lower lip out as far as she could along with giving him puppy eyes. "Please, Ran?" Ransom laughed.

"No." She groaned loudly. "Ugh, fine! I'll just get up when you go to work," she spoke smugly and Ransom turned to her, eyes wide. "Oh no you don't." He leaped up from the bed, making her whine. "Where are you going?! I need cuddles, Ran, I'm hurt!" she insisted and he got back into bed, taking out his phone. "I'm making calls to work. I'm gonna work from home now."

"You don't have to do that!" she insisted vehemently but Ransom refused to hear it. "I have to! To make sure your cute, dumb little ass stays in bed like the doctor said," he huffed. After one phone call, he sighed in relief and relaxed against the bed. "Pays to be a Thrombey, ya know," he chuckled, ruffling Y/N's hair as she snuggled into his side.

She was a mess. Her left hand was in cast, and so was her right ankle. After the doctor left she had taken off her t-shirt, leaving her in her sports bra, the wound on her chest a deep purple with flecks of red. There was also a bandaid on her temple for the small cut. "I figured." It was quiet for some time. "You never finished the story, babe. How did you get so hurt?"

"Well, first the stairs incident, I told you. After that, I was going to the bathroom to get the first aid kit but it was too heavy. I didn't know that so when I lifted it, it fell on me. I broke my wrist from hitting it on the floor too hard and the first aid kit fell on my chest," she huffed, "The pain was too much so I called you." Ransom frowned. "You should've called earlier."

"I know. Sorry."

"It's okay, baby, I'm here now," Ransom smiled, giving her a loving kiss on the top of her head. "I'm getting tired," she yawned as the adrenaline started wearing off. "Sleep." Ransom adjusted himself so he was now half-lying on the bed, back resting against the headrest as he gathered Y/N in his arms. She fell asleep a few minutes later.

---

"Ran…"

Y/N touched his side of the bed, only to be met with cold sheets instead of his warm body. She blinked the sleep away and sat up, rubbing her eyes and letting out a yawn. Running a hand through her messy hair, she stood up and limped towards the stairs. 2 weeks had passed and as the doctor said, her bedrest was over.

Her ankle had healed but not fully, while the wrist was still in a cast. The wound on her chest was also feeling loads better. She walked down the stairs and entered the kitchen area only to see Ransom cooking breakfast. "Ran," she whined and he turned around. "Y/N! Get your ass in bed, why are you here?"

"It got lonely." She wrapped her arms around him from behind, pressing a soft kiss to his bare back. "Alright, fine." He spun around and grabbed her waist, lifting her and placing her on the kitchen counter. "Sit here." Y/N smiled lazily as she placed her head on his shoulder, watching him cook. He was making eggs. Omelettes.

"How did you sleep?" he questioned when the silence stretched on. "I slept well. The ankle doesn't hurt as much, nor the wound on my chest. But the wrist…" She sighed and Ransom looked at her with a sad smile, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. "It'll get better, I promise. I'm not going to stop taking care of you."

"I'd like that very much," she replied shyly and he grinned. It was true, Ransom had truly taken care of her well. Breakfast, lunch and dinner in bed everyday for 2 weeks, he worked in their room and they had cuddled more in the two weeks than they had in their entire relationship. Y/N was super happy with their arrangement.

Of course, sometimes Ransom would be too busy, leaving her alone in the room while he worked downstairs or had a meeting with someone. But then he'd make it up to her by offering more snuggles and kisses. "My best girl," he murmured, placing the omelette he was making on a plate. He then carried the plate to the dining room, leaving her on the kitchen counter.

He returned just as fast, gathering her in his arms and pressing a kiss to her temple as he carried her to the dining table as well. "You're strong," she teased and he huffed. "I better be, or all that working out will be for nothing." She laughed and he placed her down on a chair. "Eat well, I'll be back." With another kiss dropped to her head, he went back to the kitchen area.

Y/N wondered how she became so lucky to have him as her fiancé. Yeah, sure, Ransom wasn't a very nice person in general but to her, he was the best. The man who once called his aunt unsavory things punched someone in the face when they had the audacity to call her the same things. "You better watch your fucking mouth or I'm gonna break all your teeth."

It hadn't affected her much anyway but seeing Ransom's reaction had sent a pleasant tingle down her spine. He was ready to do anything for her. And she had to admit, lately, he was being very soft. She had noticed the changes in him around a year ago; he'd become… domestic, almost. It was fun to see him like that.

His family, well, they were less than pleased when Ransom had first introduced her to them. They thought she wasn't good enough for him and had even tried to break them down. But that had only made them stronger. Ransom was in love with her and nothing his family said was going to change that. "Y/N?"

She snapped out of her thoughts and blinked at Ransom. "Yeah?" He laughed and sat in front of her with his own plate of food. "You were lost in thoughts; the food's getting cold, honey." She cursed softly and laughed along, finally finishing her food.

How had she gotten so lucky?

---

A/N: Thanks for reading! Show some love, likes and reblogs will be appreciated <3

#ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x y/n #ransom drysdale x female reader #hugh ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale fluff #knives out #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x female reader #chris evans characters #disney #mcu #marvel #avengers #fanfic #writing #writeblr

[warlockwriter]

I Believe In Santa Clause

Fandom: Jericho (2006)

Rating: General

Characters: Bill Koehler, Sarah Koehler (OC), Nathan and Wes Koehler (OC)

Tags: Kid!fic, Christmas

Word Count: 1619

Summary:  Bill and Sarah's son, Nathan, has a rude awakening a few days before Christmas. How will he deal with it, and will he ruin Santa Clause for his younger brother, Wes?

The story takes place in the canon divergent Jericho universe created by @ihaveallthesefeelsokay and all original characters are used with her permission.

A/N: This is totally hazard duty pay. She knows why. ;)

December 21, 2022

The phone rang one morning, just as Sarah was in the middle of a diaper change for Libby. It was an odd time for someone to be calling, and she considered not answering it. But both boys were in school. What if something had happened to one of them?

Fortunately, Libby wasn’t being fussy, and she managed to juggle infant, diaper and the phone. She’d never have been able to do this when Nathan was a baby. Her parenting skills had improved dramatically by her third.

“Hello?”

“Mrs. Koehler, this is the nurse at Nathan’s school.”

Visions of horrible injuries raced through her head. It had only been two months since Bill had been hurt so badly. “What happened?”

“He’s physically fine, Mrs. Koehler. He’s...well...he’s having a bit of an emotional meltdown, and I don’t think he’s in any shape to stay in class. Can you come pick him up?”

She still had an hour before needing to pick up Wes, so she said “Of course. I’ll be right there,” finished changing Libby and raced for her van. What could have happened? She and Bill had wondered if any of their children would develop his panic attacks or, God forbid, her mental health issues, but surely six was too young for that?

Firmly, she told herself to stop worrying. She’d learn what had happened when she got to the school. Fortunately, there weren’t any deputies patrolling the route to the school because she might have exceeded the speed limit just a bit. And by “bit,” more like 15 miles per hour.

She fumbled the car seat straps twice but finally got Libby out of the back seat, and she hurried for the office. The women behind the counter recognized her. “Oh, you’re here for Nathan? He’s in the nurse’s office. Go ahead and go back there.”

When Sarah arrived at the nurse’s office, Nathan had apparently calmed down some. He was still crying, but softly, his sobs more like hiccups than cries. His eyes were red, and his cheeks tear-streaked. The nurse--Sarah couldn’t remember her name just then--looked up and said, “Here’s your mom, Nathan. See, I told you she was coming.”

Of course, as soon as Nathan saw her, he started crying harder. She went down on one knee, and gathered him close. She tried to listen, but all she could make out was “Rachel” and “mean” and “not true.”

She hugged him close with her right arm, holding an unconcerned Libby in her left, and gave the nurse a quizzical look.

The woman nodded and said, “Apparently, Nathan still believed in Santa?”

Oh! Now Sarah was starting to put things together. Rachel had always been a bit of a trouble maker, and had she really just ruined Santa for Nathan?

“He did. We figured it wouldn’t last long, but we’d hoped maybe one more year?”

“I think that ship has sailed.”

Sarah found herself getting angry at the nurse’s indifference. Nathan was crying into her chest, and she wanted to get all three of them out of there. However, good manners indicated she be polite. “Thank you for calling me. I’ll take it from here.”

She looked down at Nathan. “Let’s go, honey. We’ll go get Wes and head home. I’ll make you hot chocolate, and maybe we can start on Christmas cookies.” She’d planned to make them on Friday, but they would freeze until Christmas, and she had everything she needed for them.

Nathan gave a huge sniffle, took her hand and walked with her, his small body still shaking with the occasional sob. When they got to the van, she said, “Wait a minute, hon. Let me get Libby strapped in.”

With a dejected air, he stood by her while she fastened the car seat. As soon as Libby was in her seat, Sarah dropped down and gathered her son to her in a huge, full body hug. “I’m so sorry, sweetie. What did she say?”

He cried a bit more into her chest before finally saying, “That Santa Clause isn’t real and anyone who believes in him is a baby. I’m not a baby! Libby’s a baby.”

“What did your teacher say?”

“That Rachel was wrong to be nasty about it but right about Santa.”

It hurt her heart to hear the listlessness in her son’s voice.

He looked up at her. “Why didn’t you and Daddy tell me the truth? Why did you let me believe if it’s a lie? You tell me and Wes not to lie.”

Oh, the hard questions. How to field this one?

“Yes, your father and I do tell you not to lie. Because lies hurt people. But Santa Clause doesn’t hurt anyone, and children have been believing in him for many years. I was older than you before I learned he wasn’t real. It’s...just a fun thing for parents to share with their children. It makes us feel young again, I guess. Does that make sense?”

Nathan screwed up his face in thought before finally saying, “I guess so. Wish you’d told me instead of Rachel.”

She hugged him again. “Yeah, baby. Me too.” She held him for a minute before saying, “It’s time to go pick up Wes.”

He nodded, and she could see he was thinking about something.

“What, Nathan?”

“You say believing in Santa is a fun thing to share, right?”

“Yes.” She wondered where he was going with this.

He nodded his little head, blond hair flopping in his eyes. She really needed to cut it again. “Okay. So no telling Wes. He still believes, and I won’t ruin that.”

Sarah couldn’t help herself. She hugged him again, hard. “That’s good, son. That’s exactly right. I’m so proud of you.”

Nathan was solemn on the trip to pick up Wes. He didn’t even fuss when his younger brother complained that “he’d wanted Mommy all afternoon. No share with Nathan!”

Sarah was able to mollify Wes with cookie making, and the kitchen was a cheerful mess when Bill came home.

“Are those cookies I smell?” he said as he walked in and gave Sarah a puzzled look. He’d known she’d planned to make them on Friday, just before Christmas Eve.

Before she could say anything, Nathan went to his father, still with a solemn expression, took Bill’s hand and led him outside. Sarah didn’t take any notice, keeping Wes involved with sprinkling colored sugar on cookies.

About a half hour later, they came back and Bill gave her a nod. He was filled in. Sarah hoped Christmas Eve would still be special for Wes, but she was prepared for damage control, if needed.

***

Christmas Eve, 2022

Sarah and Bill had both been a bit on edge all day, but Nathan had been perfect, saying nothing to tip off his little brother. He hung his stocking and listened while Wes chattered excitedly about what Santa would bring him.

Sarah made their usual Christmas Eve dinner, oyster stew. It was odd to her, but apparently it had been a Koehler tradition for several generations, and Bill’s mom had taught her to make it.

The boys mostly had warm, oyster flavored milk, piled high with oyster crackers while she and Bill ate the actual oysters. They had decided to be just the five of them this year, with the family visiting starting on Christmas Day.

Another Koehler tradition was opening one present on Christmas Eve, and they all gathered around the tree. They opened in backwards age order, with Sarah helping Libby with hers.

Nathan sat quietly, with his chosen present in his lap. Wes was ripping into his package and exclaiming over the book he’d wanted. Sarah was watching Nathan. She knew her son and thought he was planning something. She hoped it wasn’t going to cause a Christmas Eve crisis.

What he did do, however, took her breath away.

Nathan started to rip open the paper on his present but then stopped and looked up, as if he’d heard something. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what, son?” Bill asked.

Nathan started smiling broadly. Wes looked up from his book. “What did you hear?”

“You didn’t hear it?” Nathan asked.

Wes frowned. “Maybe? What was it?”

“Sure sounded like bells and maybe little hooves on the roof.”

Sarah got it. She met Bill’s eyes, and saw her husband was hiding a smile behind his hand.

“Really, Nathan?” Wes yelled.

Under the circumstances, Sarah and Bill both declined to remind him about “inside voice.”

Nathan got up and hurried to the window, followed closely by Wes. Nathan pushed back the curtain and pointed. “There, Wes! Just over the Miller’s house! Do you see it?

Wes squinted his eyes, looking where his brother was pointing. Suddenly, his face broke out in a huge grin. “I do, Nathan! That’s Santa’s sleigh, isn’t it?”

Nathan put an arm around his brother’s shoulder. “I think it is.”

Wes looked into the distance for a long moment before turning to his parents. “Mommy! Daddy! Did you see?”

Bill shook his head as he knelt between his two sons. “No, Wes. I didn’t get to the window in time. But I’m sure glad you saw it, buddy.”

Wes stood by the window, snuggled next to his dad, a look of wonder on his face. Nathan quietly went to hug his mom.

Sarah held him close and whispered in his ear. “Well done, Nathan.”

He looked up at her with a sad, sweet smile. “I wanted it to be good for him.”

“Merry Christmas, Nathan,” she said, giving him her most approving smile.

“Merry Christmas, Mom.”

Opening the remaining presents was almost an anti-climax after that.

END

#jericho fanfic #bill koehler #bill/ofc

[n00dl3gal]

Puppy Dog Eyes (Shance Secret Santa)

Hi @strawberrylovely! I’m your @shancesecretsanta! I took your request for fluff literally, I hope you enjoy- and happy holidays!

Read on AO3 here.

Shiro liked animals well enough. There were undeniable therapeutic benefits to owning a pet, many species were adorable, and they didn’t ask invasive questions like “how’d you get that scar on your nose?” or “why is your arm metal?” He’d probably have gotten a pet sooner if he wasn’t busy at the Garrison all the time.

Lance, on the other hand, adored creatures of all kinds. He constantly talked about the golden lab his family had when he grew up. He cooed and stopped to pet every dog they passed on the street. The “subtle” hints he was dropping about visiting the local shelter were getting more passive-aggressive by the day.

“You’re gone all day, Shiro, and I work from home, and I get lonely,” Lance moped, laying his head in Shiro’s lap. His lower lip shook, and the words “puppy dog eyes” were never more apropos.

Which is why he found himself being dragged along by his boyfriend through the local shelter, browsing the dogs up for adoption.

Personally, Shiro would’ve gone for a cat- much less maintenance. Sadly, Lance had skipped the felines entirely, opting to scour the selection of canines. “Aww, look at this one! Who’s a good boy?” Lance laughed as a large Samoyed lumbered over and licked his chin. “Who’s a good, fluffy boy?”

Shiro smiled and knelt to let the dog sniff his flesh hand. A pink tongue snuck out and lapped at his knuckles, earning a chuckle. “He’s friendly, I’ll give him that. But a dog this size wouldn’t do too well in an apartment,” he said. “You’d need a nice, big yard to run around in, wouldn’t you?” Shiro scratched the dog’s neck.

Lance sighed. “Yeah, you’re right… I’m sorry, buddy. Maybe some other ti- SHIRO, LOOK!” He jumped up and pointed to another cage. Inside was a small mix breed with black and tan fur and bright blue eyes. But what struck Shiro was the left back paw- or lack thereof. The pup was missing a limb, just like him.

“Her name is Molly, she’s a one-and-a-half-year-old Corgi-Beagle mix,” Lance read from the placard by her cage. “Apparently, she lost her limb in some sort of accident.”

“Hmm, something I can sympathize with,” Shiro said to himself.

A worker came over and clapped her hands when she noticed the mutual interest between Molly and Lance. “She’s a feisty one,” she warned, unlocking the cage to let Lance in. “Either she adores you or tolerates you, no in between. But it seems you don’t have to worry about that, do you?” Molly was already snuggling up to Lance, burrowing in his lap. “Now, her breed is pretty active, and would need both physical and mental stimulation. That said, she would be just fine in an apartment.”

“Shiro, pleaseeeeeeee? I promise to take her on walks, and feed her, and make sure she doesn’t poop in the house!!” Lance pleaded.

Shiro scratched the back of his neck and grimaced. “Don’t beg like a little kid, Lance,” he muttered, “it’s awkward.” Lance’s look of want and affection didn’t waver, though. “Well… let me see how she reacts to me, first.” He bent and stuck his hands out towards Molly. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he whispered. “I just want you to get to know me.”

Hesitantly, Molly left Lance’s lap and padded over to Shiro. She sniffed his fingers, human and metal, and took a nibble of the prosthetic. She regarded him with a gaze that Shiro could only describe as “distaste.”

“Looks like she likes you, too!” Lance chirped gleefully.

Inwardly, Shiro groaned. This wasn’t going to end well for him, was it.

. . .

He was right. It didn’t go well for him.

True to the volunteer’s words, Molly was extremely affectionate towards Lance and downright distrustful of Shiro, constantly shielding him from the former. It would be laughable, having such a tiny and crippled dog act as a guard, if it wasn’t for the fact Shiro couldn’t spend time with his boyfriend.

“Molly, please move.”

Lance shrugged. “Good luck, babe. She’s been stuck to me all day.”

Shiro bent down and looked Molly straight in the eyes. “Molly, I’ve asked you nicely. I’ll do it again, but then I will move you by force. Please move,” he said sharply.

Molly stood, took one step to the left, and sat back down. Shiro grabbed at his hair in frustration and Lance burst out into laughter. “Oh- oh my God, she has a sense of humor, I love her,” he sputtered between chuckles.

“Yeah, a real comedian. Molly, c’mon, I’ve had a long day and I just wanna snuggle with Lance.” She blinked a few times before resting her head on Lance’s knee, baring one tooth towards Shiro.

They did eventually get her to move- using a bribe of peanut butter, but the glare Molly gave Shiro every time he reached over to hug or kiss Lance was burned into his mind by the time he fell asleep.

. . .

She kept giving him that glare. Whenever he kissed Lance on the forehead, or rubbed his back, or even looked in his general direction. Molly would let out a low growl and plop herself on Lance’s feet, trapping him. Lance found it horribly endearing, for some reason. Was he really that oblivious?

“She’s just protective of her papa, aren’t you, baby girl?” he said, rubbing her stomach. “Protects her papa just like her daddy protects him!”

“Lance, I’m fairly certain Molly would be mortified to have me as a father,” Shiro said, pinching his nose and exhaling.

Lance snorted. “Yeah, anybody would, babe. You’re not even a real father yet and you still make all the shitty dad jokes.”

“I- but- what does that- you love my jokes!” he protested, face flushing crimson. Lance snickered and pressed his lips to Shiro’s cheek. “Just- ugh, get going before you miss your appointment. Good luck, sweetheart.”

Lance grabbed his keys from the armchair and beamed back at him. “Alright, you two get along while I’m gone, I’ll be back in a couple of hours!” The sound of the door shutting echoed across the apartment.

Shiro sighed and went to grab the jacket laying across the couch. “He forgot his coat again… one of these days, it’s gonna cost that man.” But before he could take it, Molly jumped up and burrowed herself in the fabric. “Wa- Molly, you’re not allowed on the furniture without permission! Get down right now!”

She didn’t budge, instead rolling her gums up to reveal her canines. Shiro repressed a gulp. “Molly. I need to hang up Lance’s coat. Please get off the couch,” he tried, keeping his voice calm and level. No movement. Shiro snatched the arm dangling off the side and tugged. “If you don’t move, I will pull you down with the coat and it will hurt. You have to the count of three. One.”

She lifted her leg and started grooming herself. Shiro dug his heels into the rug.

“Two.”

Molly yawned.

“Two and a half- and if this jacket gets ruined, Lance is going to be so pissed at you- three!” Just as the word left his mouth, Molly rolled across the couch, leaving the leather coat to be yanked by Shiro’s full momentum. He tumbled backwards, banging his head against the floor. He groaned, reaching his prosthetic arm to his head. “Ow…”

Molly limped over and eyed him carefully before barking twice. If Shiro didn’t know any better, he’d swear she was laughing at him.

. . .

Forgetting his coat, oddly enough, did have consequences for Lance.

“I’m sorry, Shiro,” Lance coughed, burrowing deeper into the blankets. Shiro sighed. “I’ll remember my jacket next time, I promise.”

“You’ve said that at least a dozen times so far, hun,” Shiro reprimanded him, grabbing Lance’s glass to refill it. “It would be nice if you would actually stick to your words.”

Lance sneezed before shrugging. “Maybe getting sick will make me remember?”

“I hope so, Lance.”

Shiro walked briskly to the kitchen and filled the cup with water, carefully adding three ice cubes (just the way Lance liked it). By the time he’s returned, Molly had curled up next to Lance. Shiro exhaled through his nose as he sets the glass back down. “Molly, please move. I need to take Lance’s temperature to see if it’s gone down.”

She didn’t, of course. Shiro wasn’t sure why he even bothered. “Lance-”

“Molly, you gotta move, this is important,” Lance said, nudging her lightly with his arm. She growled and bared her teeth. “Molly!” he chastised. There was no response from the dog. “Why are you so mean to Shiro?  He’s just as much your owner as I am!”

“I’m not so sure that’s true, sweetheart, but I appreciate the sentiment.” Shiro knelt beside the bed and reached for Lance’s hand to squeeze it. Their fingertips just managed to touch when Molly snapped and tried to dig into the flesh. Fortunately, with reflexes honed from life in the military, Shiro withdrew just before blood was drawn. “ALRIGHT, THAT’S IT!” He stood up, back straight, towering over the tiny dog. “Molly, I understand that you are protective of Lance. But you have to understand that so am I. We love each other dearly, so when you try to attack me for being near him, you’re hurting both of us. Is that what you want?”

Lance gasped a tiny bit, eyes shining. “Babe…”

Shiro knew that the words likely meant little to Molly, if she could even comprehend them, but it was no matter. He needed to get this out in the open. “Molly, we have a lot in common. We were both injured dramatically, which resulted in lost limbs. We both love lounging on the couch on Sunday morning. There’s a shared fondness for bacon, and sunny days, and walks in the park. But most of all, we have our love for Lance. So please, at least try to get along with me. For his sake,” he finished, voice dropping.

For a solid minute, the apartment was quiet. Only Lance’s coughs punctuated the silence. And then, Molly stood, waddled over to Shiro, and licked his hand.

“M-Molly?” Lance croaked, struggling to sit up. Molly glanced back at him before pawing at Shiro. “I… I think she wants you to pet her, babe.”

Gingerly, Shiro reached out his flesh hand and stroked the fur on Molly’s head. She let out a low mumble of contentment, wagging her tail all the while. “Was that all it took?” Shiro asked, mostly to himself. “Me losing my temper?”

“I think it was you declaring your love for me,” Lance joked, rolling over in bed to join them. “C’mon, I wanna snuggle the two people who love me most in the world!”

“Lance- Lance, you’re still sick- I’m not going to kiss you while you have a runny nose-” Shiro’s protest were lost in a whirlwind of joyful barks and giggles.

. . .

Three months later, and it was Lance’s turn to complain.

“But babe, I’m the one who saw her first! I should be the one to attach her prosthetic!” he whined, lower lip quivering.

Molly barked and Shiro nodded sagely. “We came to an agreement, Lance,” he said sternly. “It’s only right that I, the one without an arm, would be the one to attach it. After all, you did say that’s why we matched.”

“Yeah, but that was back when she hated you-”

Shiro and the vet sealed the clasp as Lance spoke, and Molly bounced off the table to run in circles properly for the first time. Lance tried to protest, but Shiro ignored it and focused on their dog, finally enjoying life with all four limbs. Maybe Lance did have a point, not that Shiro would ever admit it.

But he could withstand puppy dog eyes a lot better now.

#noodle writes #shance secret santa #shance #shance secret santa 2017 #strawberrylovely #voltron #voltron fanfic #vld shiro #vld lance #voltron: legendary defender

[harmonizewithechoes]

Tonight is my toddlers last night in his crib. We move into our new house tomorrow and we’re transitioning him to a big boy bed so his sister can have the crib (she’s been in the bassinet and then a pack n play in our room since she was born). We’ve still got a lot to do tonight to get ready for tomorrow and I’m trying hard not to get emotional about it. But I need to tell someone that my baby is not a baby anymore and it’s bringing up a lot of complicated feelings.

#personal #he’s getting so big and I love watching him learn more every day #I love the person he’s becoming #he’s charming and funny and curious and affectionate #and he never walks if he can dance #he gets so excited so easily and he doesn’t hesitate to squeal with joy at the littlest things #he brings so much energy and joy to our daily lives #and I wouldn’t go back to his baby days because frankly babies are really hard #but I miss him falling asleep on me like he used to because he needs to be in a bed or a car seat to sleep now #I miss giving him bottles but mainly because those are the days I could actually count on him eating 😅 #fortunately there’s another baby in the house to fill the need for snuggles and lap naps and baby giggles #she refuses bottles and that makes things REALLY HARD especially when moving but it’s not a big deal #it’s not like she’s going to be nursing exclusively forever #this is simply a phase that will only last a few months so I can handle it #the second one (and likely final one- I plan to never be pregnant again. it’s awful) is making me slow down more and appreciate the little #the little phases #in the blink of an eye she’ll be walking and talking and I’ll look fondly back on the days of my stubborn little baby

[mirberry-blog1]

Turns Out, I Like My Coffee Cold — and My House Full of Chaos

Image Source: Katy JackmanBack then, all I wanted was a cup of hot coffee. I used to wake up early some mornings when it was still dark out and my world was still quiet, ignoring how badly my body needed sleep, just so I could have a few moments to myself before the chaos began. I would sit on the couch in silence and try to mentally prepare myself for another long, hard day of being a mom to three little kids. As I took those glorious first sips of hot coffee, knowing full well that as soon as one kid woke up, the cup would be abandoned on the end table, getting colder and colder as I rushed to make breakfast, change diapers and find lost pacifiers. By the time the madness of the morning subsided, I would grab my cup, not even bothering to take a sip to test the temperature, and pop it right into the microwave to warm it up. As I stood there, waiting impatiently, I would often think, “Gosh, what I wouldn’t give to be able to drink a hot cup of coffee every once in a while.” That same cup would eventually be abandoned a few more times throughout the morning as I helped brush teeth, pick out outfits, and break up fights over whose turn it was it to play with the coveted “Toy of the Day” first. My heart would often fill with envy as I saw fellow mamas post pictures of themselves relaxing with a piping hot cup of coffee after sending their kiddos off to school. “I will miss them,” I would think as I scrolled through social media, “but by the time we get there, I’ll be ready some peace and quiet and being able to enjoy a hot cup of coffee again.” But today, after I dropped my oldest two off for their first day of school, I got my cup of coffee and felt my heart break as I sat in my living room that feels way too quiet when they are gone, and realized how badly I wished it had a chance to get cold again. I realized how I longed for the days when I would carry them both downstairs in the morning, my arms full of blankets and stuffed animals and baby dolls that needed to eat breakfast alongside them. How badly I would miss being needed in the bathroom, to help brush their hair that had knotted as they tossed and turned before wandering into our room sometime in the middle of the night. How my heart would ache for the sound of them arguing over whose turn it was to sit on Mommy’s lap that morning as we snuggled together and watched a show. How empty and big our house now feels without their toys cluttering each room and their personalities filling up the last remaining space. Today my coffee was hot, from the first sip to the last. And I realized just how fortunate I was, even for a short a while, to have a life so loud and so messy — and to be so needed so desperately — that my coffee had the chance to get cold. Related Post Dad Opens Up About the Reality of Welcoming a Rainbow Baby After a Loss The post Turns Out, I Like My Coffee Cold — and My House Full of Chaos appeared first on Babble. Powered by WPeMatico The post Turns Out, I Like My Coffee Cold — and My House Full of Chaos appeared first on Baby Based. http://174.136.57.210/~babybase/turns-out-i-like-my-coffee-cold-and-my-house-full-of-chaos/