A/N: Here it is, chapter 100! I had some spare time this afternoon/evening, and I smashed this out in just a bit over four hours. So hopefully it's okay. Haha. I'd kind of already planned out some ideas, but I finally had a chance to write them. Went for the domestic life wholesome drabbles kind of thing (hopefully the kind of thing you were after). Also I wrote each part from the POV of your characters, so hopefully I did them justice!

Connor had to admit that winding down beside Steff after a long day at work was one of his favourite things. While she lay reading a book, he lay beside her, playing a game on his phone. It was just some rip off of a jewel matching kind of game, but the mindlessness of it helped him to relax. Finishing a level, he glanced over at Steff, thinking he was so lucky to be with someone like her. She was not only beautiful, but smart and thoughtful, and he'd had a huge crush on her ever since school. As she read, her fingers grazed the page before she turned it, treating it with a kind of respect and reverence.

They would soon be parents, and her stomach was noticeably larger now. It was funny how pregnancy suited some people more than others. While some looked sick or in pain, Steff had a glow about her, and she was more beautiful than ever. She'd always wanted a family of her own, so he supposed it made sense that she was so excited by the idea.

She inhaled quickly, as if startled, before looking over at him with a smile. "I can feel her kick," she said, her eyes alight. Reaching out, she caught his hand, resting it against a part of her stomach so that he could feel it too.

Setting down his phone in his other hand, he shifted closer, smiling slightly in return when he felt it. "She's going to be strong, I can tell." Steff made a sound of agreement, but his thoughts drifted back to his worries. She would be a great mother, he knew, but he didn't know how good he would be as a dad. He couldn't help but feel unprepared, coming from a family where his Russian parents were slow to show any kind of emotion, and who rarely doted on him and his brother. He didn't have someone he could model his behaviour on, and he was worried about doing the wrong thing. After all, a baby didn't come with a manual.

As if sensing his worry, Steff's fingers moved to brush his arm lightly, her gaze on him. "You're going to be a great Dad, Connor. I know you will. You don't have to worry about it."

"I hope so," he swallowed, before reverting back to humour, which had always been easier for him than seriousness. "Cadyn is going to be the worst uncle – seriously," he said, jokingly. "If he ever babysits her, she'll be loaded up on sugar and treats."

"I trust him with her," Steff replied, a hint of amusement in her eyes. "As bad of an influence that he might pretend to be. He has some of your blood, after all."

"I don't know if that's saying much," he replied in jest. His brother was someone else he couldn't help but worry about sometimes. He felt bad that his brother hadn't yet found anyone, in the same way that he'd found Steff. It had been hard when they'd first started dating, as Cadyn had been jealous and petty about it. But eventually Steff had won him over, as he always knew she would. She was hard not to like.

"You're too hard on yourself," Steff berated lightly, shifting slightly into a more comfortable position. "How about Anastasia, for her name?" she pondered aloud. "It means 'resurrection.'"

"You're still looking into Russian names?" he remarked, sitting up and reaching over for some cream on the bedside table. Moving to the end of the bed, he then rested one of her legs against him, rubbing some of the cream on her foot. He knew her feet often grew sore and swollen by the end of the day – one of the side effects of her pregnancy – and he tried to help when he could. He'd been anxious at first – worried about doing anything wrong, and he'd looked up online areas to avoid, as apparently some specific areas could trigger uterine contractions.

"I think it would be nice to honour your Russian roots," Steff replied, giving a grateful sigh as he gently rubbed her foot as he massaged it. He'd gotten better at it over time from his research and her reactions, feeling like it was one thing that he could do to help. "And your family would like it, wouldn't they?"

"You don't have to feel like you need to do something just to impress my parents," Connor replied, focusing on his work. "But it's sweet of you to think about it."

"Really, I don't mind," she insisted. "I do have a list of possible girls names that do have some kind of Russian influence, if you'd like to have a look sometime," she replied. "I'd like to know what you think. Oh, and if you want to add any, please feel free."

She was better with writing related topics and picking names than he was, he knew. "I'll have a look," he promised, moving onto her other foot, applying a light pressure, "But I'm sure any ones you've picked would be nice."

"I'll show you tomorrow then," she responded, although she closed her eyes after a moment, making another sound in pleasure and relief. "It feels so good when you do that. They don't ache anymore."

He smiled, glad that he was able to do this one thing for her. "I live to please," he said lightly. "But in all seriousness, if you do need me to do anything, you only have to let me know. I can't help but feel like you've got all the hard work to do, and I want to help if I can."

"I know," she replied, opening her eyes up again and looking at him with a fond expression. "And that's really thoughtful of you. But I promise, I'm fine. It's worth it."

"Definitely." Once he finished up, he stood, about to go and wash his hands. He paused though, to lean down and kiss her first. "You're going to be a wonderful Mum," he murmured as he drew back.

She bit her lip to hide a growing smile, her long blonde hair splayed out against the pillow. He couldn't help but think that she looked as beautiful as ever. "We've got this," she said, as an encouragement for the both of them.

With her by his side, he knew she was right.

Coming back to their apartment, Aspen kept his footsteps quiet. He was getting back just past midnight, which was a common occurrence with his current job. In between studying at uni, he'd managed to get a job working at a bar, which usually meant long hours right into the night. It sucked that it often meant he didn't have much time to see Caspian, whose office job involved more normal work hours. Once he had a shower and grabbed something to eat, he slipped under the covers beside Caspian, feeling warmer beside him.

He looked peaceful when he slept, his guard finally lowered. His blonde hair had started to grow longer than usual, and Aspen played with a few strands in his fingers, thinking he'd need to cut it soon.

Drawing closer, Aspen draw his fingers along his arm, before pressing a kiss to his lips. Usually, he tried not to wake him up, but this night would be an exception.

Caspian's arm twitched at the unexpected contact, and it took a moment before he came to enough to realise he was being kissed. As if on instinct, he kissed Aspen back, making a surprised sound in the back of his throat. Aspen delighted in that moment when he was half asleep and half awake, finding his actions slow and endearing in his confusion. Caspian's arm moved to behind his back, drawing him closer. "What are you-…" he said, when he was able to take a breath. "You're back?"

"Yeah. I'm back," he smiled, as if to assure him it wasn't a dream. "And I heard about your promotion – you didn't think I wasn't going to congratulate you as soon as I got back, did you?"

"I don't need any congratulations. I just need you," he replied, a hint of tiredness still in his gaze, although he was still eager enough to lean forward and kiss him again.

"That is something you can have," Aspen replied, meeting his lips again with ease.

"You shouldn't be too excited. You realise my parents want to do a dinner to celebrate," Caspian warned him, his fingers grasping Aspen's shirt. "And I want you to come."

"Mmm, they might not be too happy about that," Aspen replied, although he didn't argue against the idea. "I still think they don't like me."

His fingers moved under Caspian's shirt to rest against the skin there and he could feel Caspian's breaths. "You know it doesn't matter what they think. But I do think my Dad's come around to the idea of you." He noticed Caspian didn't mention his mother, but that didn't surprise him. She had always made her disapproval the most plain, her emotions sometimes getting the best of her, just like her son.

"Ah, that's nice to hear. I do like to be liked," Aspen said, his hand moving lower. "They'll both come around to me eventually. Just you wait and see," he said as if in a promise.

"I don't doubt you," Caspian murmured in reply. He was wide awake now, inhaling quickly at Aspen's actions. As much as he didn't like to show certain things or reactions, Aspen was always good at coaxing them out of him.

"Now, let me give you your present," Aspen said, with another teasing kiss, before moving to continue.

He doubted that either of them would get much sleep that night.

Helping his brother out on his wedding day was a proud day for Milo. It was a day that neither of them thought he would be allowed. But sometimes the universe could be kind.

Milo had helped him pick out a grey suit, thinking that it brought out the colour in his eyes. The tie was a simple black one, Rye having not wanted anything too fancy. As Rye struggled to do it up neatly, Milo pushed his hands away and reached to do it himself. "Don't you look handsome?" he grinned. "As you should on your wedding day."

Rye looked embarrassed more than anything, although a little pleased as well. "As long as Florence likes it," he replied, "That's all that matters."

"There, much better," he said after he'd fixed the tie, stepping back to admire his work. "And of course she'll like it. She loves you."

Passing Rye his blazer from where it had rested against a chair, Rye slipped his arms into it, before adjusting it into place. It fit perfectly, having been measured to fit. While Rye would have never had the money to have such an expensive wedding by himself, their parents had generously paid for most of it, to help the young couple out.

"I know she'll look beautiful," Rye remarked, the admiration clear in his gaze. "She always does. I can't wait to see her."

"Slow down," Milo laughed. "We've still got hours of preparation to go, yet. And you can't see her until the wedding starts."

"I know, I know. It's just hard," Rye complained lightly, unable to help the smile on the edge of his lips. "Thanks for all your help, and for agreeing to be my best man and all. There's no one else that I'd want beside me today."

Milo lifted a hand as if to ruffle his hair – an old gesture from when he'd been younger – before thinking the better of it, when he realised that his hair had already been styled. Besides, his hair no longer had the longer, boyish haircut that it used to have. He'd grown up. "Of course. There's nowhere I'd rather be."

Rye paused, before moving forward to envelope him in a tight hug. Milo returned it, and it took a moment before he realised that Rye was silently crying. "I-… I didn't think I'd get to do something like this. That I'd be this lucky and be able to get married."

"I know," Milo replied simply, trying to swallow past a lump in his own throat at some sudden emotion. They never thought that Rye would even live past twenty-five. He'd had a rare form of cancer that at the time, the doctors had deemed as incurable. But a cure was found just in time, and it now allowed Rye to live out a mostly normal life. Through his illness, he'd also met his soon to be wife. She'd been one of the young nurses helping to support him through his treatment. If he'd never been sick, then he would have never met her. Sometimes Rye said it had been worth it, just to get to meet her. He was a romantic at heart, with a kind soul. The kind of person that definitely deserved to beat cancer. "I'm proud of you." Of course, their father would say it too, but being older and taking care of his brother when they'd been younger almost made him feel like a kind of father figure himself, in his brother's life.

Of course, it only made Rye cry more, still as honest in his reactions and his emotions as ever. "I love you," he whispered, hugging Milo hard for a moment longer.

Finally, he drew back. "I love you too," Milo replied, reaching out to wipe a tear from his cheek. "Now, we'd better make sure you're ready in time. We can't have you arriving late for your bride."

Blake heard the key at the lock, before he heard Savannah call out, "I'm home!" Looking up from where he was sitting and watching TV, his gaze caught on her for a moment as she undid her coat, throwing it over a chair, before going to the takeaway bags that she held. Picking up the remote, he turned down the volume.

"Mexican?" Blake guessed from the brown bags, and she nodded.

"Yeah, burritos. I hope you don't mind," she remarked, taking off her scarf as well. "I was too tired to cook."

"Mmm, is that your excuse?" Blake said in amusement. It was a long-time joke. Savannah worked long hours in her magazine editing job, and she didn't like to cook at the best of times. While Blake didn't mind cooking – although his meals were average at best – she insisted on doing her part on some nights… which always involved takeout. And fair enough, as the idea of cooking was likely last on her list of priorities.

"Oh, shut up. I don't hear you complaining," she replied, rolling her eyes. Taking one of the burritos wrapped in foil out of the bag, she threw it over to him. Luckily, he managed to catch it in time. "I'm sure you'd prefer this to anything I tried to make."

"Most likely," he agreed, starting to unwrap it. "Busy day?"

"Just the usual," she shrugged, moving over to join him on the couch. "I had heaps of articles to read over and fix before tomorrow's deadline. I swear half of the stories always need something fixed."

"They're lucky to have you," he replied, knowing that she worked really hard on her job, often spending more hours on it than she was paid to do. But she was a bit of a perfectionist, and she wouldn't let anything go to print until it was perfect.

"Tell me about it," she said, leaning over to give him a quick kiss in a greeting, before lounging back against the couch. They'd been living together for close to five months now, and it had become hard to remember a time without her there – not that he wanted to. They'd grown more casual around each other, and it felt effortless, most of the time. She softened him, he knew, but he no longer cared. "What about your day?" she enquired.

"Nothing exciting, to be honest," he replied, his gaze going back to the TV screen briefly because he'd forgotten to pause it. Taking a bite of his burrito, he guessed that it was some kind of chicken one that had some spice to it. "I finished up with that large manuscript that I'd been working on translating, but I've been given another one to work on which is just as long."

"You'll get it done," she replied confidently, taking a bite of her own burrito. "What on earth are you watching?" she asked, her gaze following his to the screen.

"Just some show on Netflix. It's called Deadly Class, or something like that," he said, catching a glimpse of some of the main characters. "It's based on a graphic novel about some teenagers going to a secret academy for the Deadly Arts. They're basically learning how to poison and kill and stuff. It's pretty dark."

Savannah raised an eyebrow. "Sounds edgy," she remarked, and she adjusted so she was sitting parallel along the couch, her legs resting over his. She made a sudden sound of annoyance, frowning. "Your dog's trying to eat my dinner," she complained. Glancing over, Blake found his Irish Wolfound, Fang, sitting up and sniffing near Savannah, eyeing her burrito. The smell of their food had likely woken her up from where she'd been sleeping.

"What do you expect her do to? She's always hungry," Blake pointed out. He had almost finished his burrito, and he whistled, watching as she came over to sit near him instead. Giving her the last of her burrito, he watched as she ate it in nearly one gulp.

"You spoil her," Savannah said, clicking her tongue. "It's probably not healthy for her, you know. I can't believe how big she's growing."

Blake ignored her words, scratching behind Fang's ears. It was true – even though she was nearly a year old, he could have sworn she was still growing. He could remember a time where she'd been so small as a puppy. While Savannah sometimes pretended not to like her, he knew that Fang had grown on her, and he'd even seen her feed her or play with her when she thought he wasn't looking. She'd had little choice in the matter – if Blake was to move in with her, he came as a package deal with his dog. "She'll stop growing soon, I'm sure."

"Let's hope so," Savannah agreed. Getting up, she reached out to take his wrapper, walking to add them both to the bin and wash her hands. "I'll watch it with you for a bit," she said, nodding towards the TV. "Although not for too long – I have to get up early tomorrow."

"That's fine," Blake agreed. This time when she sat down, it was closer to him, and she leaned her head against his chest. Inhaling, he drew his arm around her shoulders, hardly focusing on the show anymore.

He couldn't imagine going back to living without her anymore, having become too used to her presence. And he found he was okay with that.

Hearing the door click open, Devi looked up from his computer, unsurprised to see Naya come through the door. "Lecture went overtime again?" he guessed, after glancing at the time.

"Yeah, by twenty minutes or something ridiculous," she replied, rolling her eyes. "Seriously, sometimes I don't think the lecturers realise we have lives."

"Probably not," Devi smiled. He and Naya had been best friends all throughout school, so it only made sense that they'd come to the same uni together. Finding a place to stay nearby, they could walk there every day which was really handy. They'd come from a small town originally, so it had been a bit of an adjustment to get used to a big city like New York. Naya's choice had surprised him at first, but then he'd gotten used to the idea. Besides, Devi couldn't imagine being roommates with anyone else.

Setting her keys down, she then put her bag in her room, before coming out again. Walking over to the coffee machine, she started on making herself one. "Would you like one?" she asked.

"I already had one not long ago, but thanks," Devi replied, typing a few more words on his laptop, the smell of coffee in the air.

"What are you working on?" she asked, trying to peer over at his screen.

"It's just one of my projects. We have to design something for an advertisement. It's not quite how I want it yet, though." Devi hadn't known what he'd wanted to study after school, and he'd kind of fallen into graphic design. It was one of the courses that he hadn't hated the sound of, and he'd figured that if he didn't end up liking it, then he could always swap to something else.

"Hey, I'm sure you'll get there," Naya replied, adding a bit of cream to her coffee, before walking over to have a better look. "I like the colours," she remarked. "It's stands out."

"Thanks," Devi replied, although he was still a little annoyed that he couldn't work out what he was missing.

"Saying that though, you need to finish it up tonight," she continued, leaning against the edge of the table. "Because I've got plans for us tomorrow night."

"Plans?" he repeated, blinking and rubbing at one of his eyes. "Like what?"

"Oh… just a party," she grinned. "We've hardly been to any in our whole time here."

"I got a headache from that last party you dragged me to," Devi half complained. "It was either the music or the drinks."

"Hey, I don't drag you out that often," she pointed out, leaning closer and giving a hopeful expression. "Please? You can't stay cooped up here all day and night. You do have to get out sometimes. It'll be good for you."

"Fine," he replied finally, always finding it hard to say no to her. Besides, maybe it would be good to get out for a bit. It would help to take his mind off some of the things he was stressed about. "But I don't want to be out all night."

"That's fine!" she grinned, before taking a sip of her coffee. "We can go home whenever you want – I promise. Just say the word… As long as it's not before we've been there for a couple of hours."

"Yeah, yeah," he said, leaning back in his chair. "You'd better get your assignment done too, then. I don't want your parents blaming me for letting you go to a party instead of getting your stuff handed in on time."

"Don't worry, I've got it under control," she said, moving to grab her own laptop, before sitting down beside him. "I've only got like… two hundred words left to write."

"You'd better get started on it then," Devi replied, and they fell onto a comfortable silence as they both worked on their assignments. Naya was studying law. It wasn't exactly something she loved – but it was one of the only things that she and her parents could agree on. They'd wanted her to study to be a doctor, but she hated the idea of that much more. At least with law she seemed passionate about helping out those who really needed it. She'd told him that she wanted to help out women who had suffered from domestic violence.

No matter what she chose in the future, Devi knew that he'd follow her. She knew him better than anyone else, and he couldn't imagine not having her there as his best friend.

Sitting on a picnic rug with Kellan's family, Ethos found himself content. His family had never been particularly close or affectionate, so it had been a surprise when he'd first met Kellan's family. But they'd all welcomed him in with open arms – after Grace had grilled him first, of course. He realised that he'd never felt a true sense of family until he'd been surrounded by them. He'd always sensed that it made Kellan happy that they all got along.

Kellan and his siblings had put together a picnic for them all to eat – each bringing different things. Now they could enjoy their effort, and Ethos took one of the mini quiches from a tray when Kellan offered him one.

Taking a bite, Ethos made a sound of appreciation. "These are delicious."

"I made those," Grace spoke up, sounding proud of herself. "Although I used Kellan's recipe."

"You did a good job, Grace," Kellan praised. It was sweet how Grace had taken on many traits and looked up to her brother. "They taste as good as the ones I usually make."

"Or better," she grinned cheekily, and Kellan laughed.

"Kellan's always been the best cook out of the lot of us," Zach added, "Although maybe Grace might surpass him one day."

"Most likely," Kellan said, always good-natured. It was one of the things that Ethos loved about him.

"Here, Dad. Would you like a sandwich?" Kellan asked, passing a tray over to him. His father took one of the egg and lettuce triangles, with a quick thanks. His gaze was alight and focused, clearly enjoying the fresh air.

Ethos exchanged a glance with Kellan, knowing how much it meant to him, to be able to spend time with his father on one of his good days. The days when he would retreat into himself had become more common, so he was happy for Kellan, and glad to be able to share one of those good moments. Reaching out, he squeezed one of Kellan's hands in a subtle gesture.

Kellan smiled, looking grateful for it. Finally, his gaze returned to his siblings and his father. "We um… have an announcement to make," Kellan said, and Ethos gave him a nod, encouraging him to continue.

Grace sat up straighter, looking enthusiastic. "Ooh, what is it? Are you two-…" she was about to say something, before she stopped herself, realising that she might ruin the surprise.

"I asked Ethos if he would marry me," Kellan said, his gaze going to his, "And I was lucky enough that he said yes."

"Congratulations!" Grace said, with a squeal in her excitement. "I'm so happy for you both."

Ethos was surprised when she moved to hug him, and he was shy for a moment, before finally relaxing and hugging her back. "You make Kellan so happy," she whispered, so that she wouldn't be overheard. "I'm really glad."

"As do you," Ethos replied, feeling grateful by her words as she drew back. "I do not have any siblings of my own, but I am looking forward to having you as my sister-in-law."

Kellan's family had always been close, and there were hugs all around. Ethos supposed he should be used to it by now, but it always felt like something special, being included in such a thing.

"I'm proud of you, Kellan," his father said, clutching Kellan for a long moment. "You have always followed your heart. We all admire that."

Kellan blushed, something which Ethos had always found extremely endearing. Looking over at Zach, Kellan swallowed. "I'd love for you to be my best man, if you'd like to."

"Are you kidding? Of course, I'd like to," Zach grinned. "I wouldn't want to be anywhere else."

After falling back into an easy conversation as they finished off their food, Grace said she wanted to take a stroll, urging her Zach and her father to come with her. It was a not-so-subtle attempt to give them a bit of time to themselves, but they appreciated it all the same.

Ethos swallowed, twisting the ring on his finger that Kellan had given him. He'd picked well, choosing something simple, as Ethos had never liked jewellery that was overly flashy.

Likely caused by his silence, Kellan turned to him. "What is it? Is there something wrong?" he asked, and Ethos knew he was trying to read him, which could be hard at times.

"I have never… experienced family like yours," Ethos pondered aloud, after a long pause. "It is strange to think that I will soon become a part of it. I am honoured, really."

Kellan couldn't hide his smile, reaching to take his hand. "You are already a part of it," Kellan assured him. "Grace and Zach couldn't be happier."

Ethos swallowed. "You are all so good to me. I only hope that I can live up to your expectations."

Laying down beside him on the picnic rug, Kellan urged him down as well. Reaching out, his fingers gently curled around his hair. "You don't need to worry about that. You mean everything to me."

While Ethos had found such declarations strange at first, he had come to like the way Kellan could openly express things. While he still wasn't at that stage yet, he was trying to work on it. Instead of trying to work out what to say, he decided to show it instead, leaning forward to kiss him. It was slow and gentle, neither one of them wanting it to end.

The sounds of the park became distant, and Ethos found he could relax into him, his presence easy to focus his attention on. He was loving and honest and he had a good heart, and Ethos found he didn't mind the idea of spending the rest of his days with him.