#I still remember when the fandom waited so long for the first picture of Baby Tom <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[fluentmoviequoter]

If the Bun's as Sweet as You

Part 2 of Sweet as You

Pairing: David "Deacon" Kay x pregnant!wife!baker!reader

Summary: After you find out you're pregnant, you try to use baking jokes to tell Deacon. Unfortunately, he isn't the first to understand you.

Warnings: fluff!! Street and Hondo. r is implied to have an irregular cycle?

Word Count: 1.6k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

Masterlist Directory | Deacon Kay Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

A/N: I swear I could look at his smile forever. An extra special thanks to @elephants-bubbles-brachosauruses for the amazing ideas about using "bun in the oven" and Deac being oblivious!

In your bakery’s kitchen, you sit and press the back of your hand against your mouth. The last week or so, you have been nauseous, and emotional, and the smells you once found mouthwateringly amazing are now causing your stomach to churn.

“What are you making, boss?” your employee Tristan asks. “Smells amazing.”

You increase the pressure of your hand against your mouth while fighting the urge to throw up. It hits you then: you might be pregnant. What other explanation exists for a sudden sensitivity to certain smells and tastes, plus the morning sickness that has been pulling you out of bed even before Deacon wakes?

“Tristan, I need you to take over,” you say quickly. “I have a quick errand to run, and it may turn into a personal day.”

“Sure thing. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. There’s lemon snaps in the oven and cheesecake filling setting in the fridge. Schedule’s on the board, call if you need anything.”

“Of course. Don’t worry about anything, just take care of you.”

You nod in thanks, then hang your apron on its designated hook before gathering your things. There’s a pharmacy just a few blocks away, but you want to take the tests at home rather than in a public restroom.

In less than an hour, you have five tests waiting on your bathroom sink as you sit on the edge of the tub and watch your leg bounce with the timer on your phone. When it dings, you exhale before you stand. You don’t have time to wonder how you’ll feel if they’re negative before you see two pink lines. Then, a plus sign. And a digital message reading ‘Pregnant 3+.’ Every test is positive.

You smile as you gather the tests and place them in a box below the sink. Telling Deacon has to be special, but you don’t want to wait. A baker joke, you think as you prepare to return to the bakery. It will be perfect.

Your stop at the bakery is quick; you ensure Tristan and the rest of your staff are doing well, then gather an assortment of treats. You ensure that Deacon and his team’s known favorites are included before you leave for HQ.  Since marrying Deacon, you’ve been welcomed into their station more times than you can count, and they’re family to you.

“Wait,” Deacon says, dropping his guard.

“For what?” Street asks as he steps back.

“See how he perked up like a dog?” Luca points out.

“Uh, yeah.”

Hondo interrupts to explain, “That means his wife is incoming. I’d say in about, three… two…”

“Mrs. Kay!” Rocker yells around the corner.

“I’m getting pretty good at that, Deac!” Hondo brags. “Watch your back, my man.”

“Hi, guys!” you greet as you round the corner.

Rocker is carrying the boxes for you now, and Deacon’s team can’t decide whether to look at you or the baked goods you brought them.

“Dig in, they’re still warm,” you say.

Luca, Hondo, and Street tap your arm gently in thanks as they follow Rocker to a nearby table. Deacon smiles as he exits the ring and walks to your side.

“I missed you,” you murmur as he pulls you into a quick hug.

“Missed you too,” Deacon agrees. “I didn’t get to see you for long this morning. Are you feeling better?”

You nod, remembering that a few hours ago, you were sick but didn’t know why. Now, you press your hand against your thigh to keep it from resting on your nonexistent baby bump.

“I brought your favorite again,” you tell Deacon. “I’ve been thinking that I could use that flavor in some other kind of recipe, maybe make it a bit savory somehow.”

“Anything you make will be amazing.”

“Like you?” you ask, smiling as you lean against his side.

“Like you.” Deacon keeps his arm around your waist and drops his chin to kiss you quickly. He looks at the open boxes and says, “You brought more today.”

“I made a ton,” you agree. Then, you smile as you add, “Plus, there’s a bun in the oven.”

Deacon’s brows furrow, but his smile never drops as he asks, “Just one? That’s a terrible business plan.”

You laugh, caught off guard by how easily your pregnancy announcement went over his head. Deacon has been incredibly attuned to you and your needs since long before you were married. Yet, when you tell him you’re pregnant, he thinks you’re talking about your bakery.

“I’m going to go get some before it’s all gone,” Deacon whispers, carefully removing his arm from around you.

“Enjoy,” you murmur, shaking your head in amusement.

“The weekly visits may have been a terrible idea,” Deacon announces when he returns home after his shift. “It’s just enough time to make me want you around more.”

“I’m sure Hondo feels the same,” you agree.

“What are you up to?”

Deacon wraps his arms around your waist and drops his chin to your shoulder, pressing a kiss against your neck. You lean against him and set your pen aside, the beginnings of a new recipe jotted down in your favorite recipe binder.

“I started baking a new recipe,” you begin carefully, “but it won’t be ready for 8 months, give or take.”

Deacon hums, then asks, “How do you get your recipes so perfect? Besides being brilliant and all the time you put in?”

You close your eyes, smile, and drop your head against his shoulder. Deacon is smart, but it seems he’s entirely oblivious when it comes to a baby.

“Mostly time, trial and error,” you answer. “Which hopefully only applies to baking and not making other things.”

“Are you going to work tomorrow?” Deacon asks.

“No. Why? Did you get called in?”

“You’re stuck with me.”

You hum and decide to try a more direct approach. “I promise that if I jump out of bed and run to the bathroom to be sick, it’s not because of you,” you joke. “The bun in my oven just doesn’t seem to like mornings.”

Deacon nods against you before he steps back and offers to make dinner. You consider showing him the positive tests, but now you want to see how long it will take for Deacon to realize what you’ve been trying to tell him all day.

Forty-eight hours after learning that you are expecting a baby with your husband, Deacon, he has yet to catch on to a single one of your hints. You’ve tried every version of the ‘bun in the oven’ line, mentioned that you shouldn’t have rum cake, made jokes about your morning sickness, and even pointed out that being a baker is the perfect occupation to make it easier to eat for two. Deacon Kay is oblivious, you’ve discovered.

So, to get your mind off the dilemma of how to tell your husband without just blurting out I’m pregnant, you’ve taken to experimenting in the kitchen. When the third batch of your sweet and savory cookie crisps is finished, you carry the tray around the bakery and ask for your employees’ opinions. After six of them give you a thumbs up and one admits that she doesn’t like crunchy cookies, you package the new item and wave goodbye to your kitchen assistant.

You’re going over your weekly visit to SWAT HQ, but you don’t care. As you walk in, you hear Deacon talking.

“Hello, beautiful,” Hondo calls. “I finally beat Deacon to you.”

“Not by much,” Deacon points out as he walks to your side. “Whoa, what are those?”

“They don’t have a name yet,” you answer, passing the box to him. “They’re a twist on a savory chocolate chip cookie crisp.”

“I’m sorry,” Hondo tells you, laying his hand on your shoulder. “Your husband was distracted by the cookies. How are you feeling?”

Deacon rolls his eyes and passes the box of cookies to Street.

“How did you come up with this recipe?” Luca inquires.

You decide that now, surrounded by your friends, is as good a time as any to try one more time.

“I think the bun in the oven is making me a better baker,” you admit.

The men around you freeze, and everything is silent for several seconds.

“Congratulations!” Luca exclaims, hugging you tightly.

Hondo points at you with a bright smile and says, “You can’t give me that look when I call you Mama now!”

“Oh my gosh,” Street murmurs, reaching toward your stomach. “Can we call them Cookie?”

You laugh and say, “Sounds like I’m bloated, but sure.”

“What?” Deacon asks slowly. When you look back at him, his eyes are wide, and his brows are raised high on his forehead. “What?” he repeats.

“I’ve been telling you for two days, Deacon!”

“No, you haven’t!”

You smile and take Deacon’s hand. “You’re way too pretty to be this oblivious.”

“Hey, if pretty’s all you’re after,” Hondo interjects, shrugging as he raises a cookie toward his mouth.

“Back off,” Deacon chides playfully. He looks at you and asks, “You’re pregnant?”

You smile and nod as you raise your hands to his shoulders. “You’re going to be a dad, Sergeant Kay.”

Deacon’s eyes brighten as he smiles. Then, his smile drops long enough for him to mumble, “Oh.”

“You just caught on to everything I’ve been saying,” you accuse.

Deacon kisses you rather than admitting you’re right but pulls back quickly when Street asks, “Hey, can I be the godfather?”

“Over my dead body,” Hondo answers lowly.

“I feel like we’re interrupting something,” you whisper to Deacon.

“I love you,” Deacon replies.

“I love you, too. And if this baby is anywhere near as sweet as you, everyone here is going to love them, too.”

“We'll love Cookie, you mean,” Street calls.

[nobodysdaydreams]

hi!! any SQ fics?

Okay, anon, I'll be honest. This is a very hard one. Not because there are no fics, because there are SO MANY. I cannot possibly include them all or even a fraction of what there is. The fandom loves the boy. We write a ton for him. I'll try to narrow it down to my favorites and for some authors that write a lot for him, I'll just recommend you raid their account.

First, here are some baby SQ fics (show version) that feature SQ as a cute little baby when he was adopted by Curtain 🥺

Letting Go and Holding Tight by @/twokidsinatrenchcoat (I don't know their tumblr). An AU of if baby SQ convinced Curtain not to be so evil.

me and my two hands by @plentyghosts one of my top TMBS fics, featuring little baby SQ. You're just gonna want to raid their entire account honestly, if you want SQ content.

S.O.S. by me. A long AU about how Curtain met SQ's birth parents and how that influenced his character leading into a hypothetical season 3. Baby SQ is in chapters 3 and 4. Curtain's relationship with his birth parents is detailed in chapter 2. Young SQ is in later chapters if you wish to read on.

Fluff:

someone only you could want by @kneeslapworthy. One of my favorites. SQ and Curtain reestablish their father and son relationship after Curtain is defeated (show version).

Son, Nephew, Friend by @heyitsthatonesmolgay. SQ is frozen and Curtain is desperate to bring his son back (show version)

Who You Were Meant To Be by me. After the events of the books, SQ makes an unlikely friend in his old enemy, Martina Crowe (book version)

Buoyancy by @mvshortcut SQ is part of the society now, and they show him what real family is like (books or show). Milk has a ton of good SQ content, so you should raid their account too.

fostering the illusion by @myfairkatiecat wasn't sure whether to put this as fluff or angst, more of a character study of why Curtain adopted SQ (show versions)

unfocused, vulnerable by @never-wake-up. SQ has disabilities, but Mr. Benedict is there

Angst and Hurt Comfort:

And Without It One Cannot Start Over by @mvshortcut, (book versions). Poor SQ believes it is only a matter of time before Mr. Benedict takes him to jail.

Out There by @plentyghosts. Little SQ runs away from home (show version). Like I said, you're gonna want to raid this AO3 for content, trust me.

forks by @mahpotatoequeen. A sad fic about Curtain's abuse

A kiss- by @plentyghosts. I don't know how to summarize this other than by screaming, so just picture me screaming at the top of my lungs.

Out Cold by @sophieswundergarten. SQ is left by Curtain on the island. Sadly, it's not a tropical vacation.

The Answer to This Riddle Has a Hole in the Middle by @mvshortcut. SQ is mistreated and has to watch the children be abused.

The Boys Who Waited by me. This one is more about the twins, but features a young SQ trying his best to help his father (show version)

All It Takes Is Once by @heyitsthatonesmolgay. Remember when I said I was screaming earlier? I'm still screaming. Why does book Curtain have a heart? How dare you, I just... (*throw things around wildly*) Also this is another account to raid if you like SQ content.

AUs:

I Saw You by @heyitsthatonesmolgay. SQ becomes a villain in a superpowered AU after he feels betrayed by the society and his father.

not a lot, just forever by @kneeslapworthy. SQ is left with Mr. Benedict after his father flees

Sun and Moon (which isn’t really about the Sun and the Moon at all) by @fandom-queen-13. A fairytale AU retelling of how SQ was "adopted" by his father (book or show versions)

Crack:

S.Q. Comes Home by @myfairkatiecat. Curtain tries to pick his son up from the airport without anyone noticing. They notice.

And there is SO MUCH MORE anon. These are the ones off the top of my head, the classics, but go to anyone on this list's account and there will honestly probably be more. We love the boy.

[jarita123]

I have been a part of MCU fandom since it started in 2008, watched comic book movies way before it (X-Men were kind of a thing), Keaton´s Batman is still my Batman (I know, DC, I had no idea in the early 90s there was such a thing :D ).

But I don´t remember it ever being so toxic as it is lately. Admittedly, I kind of started to "fan" Tom himself more past few years, I still love RDJ and all the original guys from Phase 1 but my God, people went insane with social media.

And what is going on in Loki fandom? Or around Tom personally? Like people don´t believe he is in a relationship, and I only wait for first crazy to say "It is not his baby!" like they keep doing with poor Benedict. So he found himself a partner, good for him and he is obviously happy!

I loved all the red carpet content we got, I love that he is *finally* getting out of his shell after years of random appearances (granted, we were robbed for red carpets for Loki, first because of Covid and second because of strikes) and The Essex Serpent had some but most interviews were done by video (still not enough of them). So he is going to conventions, which is a fantastic thing. He meets fans, he loves meeting fans and it is great that we are not just waiting for Bobby/baby walk pictures. He can do whatever the hell he wants. And getting paid for it? He is a performer and is paid to perform. It is simple as that.

He just wrapped a movie in October and had a highly successful show in November. And he is still praised for it, may get some more nominations, will campaign for Emmy. Yes, he can do other stuff and he does but it takes time to make something and get things into productions is not easy. He obviously loves Loki and what actor can say they still can work with a character this long and still find something new? He basically created the character on screen and now will be forever remembered and anybody coming after him will be compared to Tom. That is no small achievement.

When it happened that "fans" think they know what is the best for a person they don´t even know in person? Give the guy a break.

And don´t get me started with those crazy "shipping wars", which is something I had now idea existed before (yes, I am a boomer already). Loki even did not kiss or stayed with anybody at the end, so what is the deal? Stop insulting each other, and stop projecting Tom and Sophia as Loki and Sylvie. Yes, it was probably only one or two cases but it is not normal. Sorry.

*Rant over*

[rise-my-angel]

This is what I wish more modern show fans of this series would consider. That a lot of the time, grrm WANTS to challenge you on your opinions of these characters.

He makes the heroes do stupid, fucked up, or indefensible things to force you to remember these are just humans who make mistakes and you should not look at them in pure worship.

But he also makes characters who he has built you to hate, and dolls out what feels like karamtic justice only for you to realize that they do not deserve the degree of punishment they are getting. It forces you to look at your own enemy and have sympathy for the fact that under all that is someone just like us.

In the books, our first introduction to Theon is Bran and Jon watching him kick a decapitated head and Jon calls him an ass. It paints a picture of who this guy is, and you rally for him to get his just desserts and then he does, and you feel sick that this is the punishment. It forces you to realize that cruelty us never justice and you should not want it to happen to the characters, because it's not that that specific character doesn't deserve that it's that no one does.

It's why he gives otherwise whole unlikable villainous characters, really emotional and horrifying deaths. It's why Viserys III and Joffery Baratheons deaths are not painted as justified, but horrific and terrifying. You should hate them, but grrm wants you to look at yourself and ask do you hate them so much that they deserve brutal torture and untold cruelty?

Because the answer is no. He does not want you to worship your favourites as always in the right. Even when their logic is justified, they still do things that you can, will, and should protest against. Because they're still human and will make decisions that are not the best even when they think it is. For example my favourite character Jon Snow, swapping Gilly andvMances baby makes sense with his logic but I hate it a lot. It makes me look at Jon and think what is wrong with you that's not okay, even if he gave a genuinly logical reason. It didn't make him any less my favorite character, but it forces me to remember he is not without his own deserving of criticism.

And on the flip side, Cersei was the best example. Now she is also one of my favorite characters in the books, but she really digs her own grave. You can love her and still feel like you cannot wait for her own terrible plans to blow up in her face, because even if you love her, you think God does she deserve to be punished for all this shit she's caused.

Then she does her walk of atonement and it is one of the most heartbreaking sequences. It is so utterly dehumanizing for her and it's a trauma that will never leave her for the rest of her life and your basically forced to go on this walk with her. It's gut wrenching how quickly you realize you were wrong, that she does not deserve this because no one deserves this pure humiliation.

It's amazing at the end of a long arc where she is so consistently in the wrong, by the time you reach the consequences she should face, grrm forces you to look at yourself and make you ask, does your hatred of what she's done TRULY make her deserving of something this painfully cruel?

But the thing is, is that a modern trend in this fandom, show and book, is that the audience seems to have forgotten this. Good characters are always in the right and never should be critized even when they should be, and people who do bad things are nothing more then monsters who deserve no humanity shown towards them.

I hate Daenerys Targaryean, and yet each rewatch of season 1 or reread of the first book, even through that hate I still find myself enjoying watching her grow independent and confident for once in her life. I find her growth satisfying until she takes it too far, but that doesn't mean I wish she never found that confidence in the first place. I also still find her even during her arcs that have me throughly against her, funny sometimes. The way she genuinly tells Grey Worm, Ser Barristan, and Jorah in succession that they are too important and mean too much to her to risk sending against the champion of Meereen, being followed by how quickly and dryly she agrees to just let Daario Naharas to do it by basically just being like "don't fuck it up, idiot." It's funny, I hate her, but she's still funny and her budding romance with Daario IS charming. I can find humanity in this character I hate because grrm knows how to force it's audience to challenge their own views.

A Song of Ice and Fire is special because it challenges its audience as much as it does its characters on their own sense of morality, and I think that's something more modern fans of the shows in particular should remember more. Because I think we've gotten too complacent with thinking the characters in asoiaf exist on a spectrum of only good or evil, when in grrms world, no one exists there.

It's not a coincidence that Melisandre tells Davos that "If half an onion is black with rot, it's a rotten onion. A man is good, or he is evil." Comes in tandem with a scene in the books where Sam in facts, seperates the rotten half of an onion and manages to salvage the rest of it to be eaten safely.

He presents someone who thinks the world is this way, then shows you with silent action, that the notion is an inaccurate way to look at the world.

Honestly, one of my favorite things about GRRM's writing in asoiaf is how it turns the reader's bloodthirstiness against them.

Take Theon in ACOK, you are cheering in his final chapter because finally! Just desserts for that arrogant foolish bastard!

You read how the Bolton's have him captured in ASOS and say "Heh, good riddance".

And then... you read Reek chapters and with growing horror, you realize who is the person narrating. And suddenly, this need for payback, for him to face justice, doesn't feel that righteous anymore. No person should go through this.

The same goes for Cersei, her blaze of cruelty and scheming catches up to her when the sparrows imprison her. FINALLY, justice! and... you can only stare in horror and disgust at the walk of atonement scene. There is no vindication to be found here.

[halcyon-digest]

2015

Art Klaudt: Visiting the island of Barra and listening to Destroyer/Hex Enduction Hour/The Del Byzanteens/Twin Fantasy on the way there/back

Anonymous 1: unknown

ava: getting obsessed with the a cappella group pentatonix. joining a twitter fandom for the first time to talk about pentatonix. staying in bed all throughout the end of that summer just watching every music video, vlog, live performance, etc they ever put out. starting high school and getting so excited when pentatonix (or their offshoot superfruit) would release new youtube videos because they would always go online right as my final study hall period of the day was coming to an end. pentatonix were my first contemporary obsession; it was a whole new feeling. it was an enormous event in my life when they put out their first fully original album that fall. the excitement i felt was unparalleled. plus their existence in the internet era (compared to my usual preference for 20th century rock bands) meant there was just heaps and heaps of stuff for me to watch and listen to and analyze and absorb into my being. i can’t even describe how much pentatonix meant to me that year.

kate: I graduated from college and was still clinging to this lab job I had on campus while I tried to figure things out. My boyfriend at the time's parents had offered to let me live at his house (with them) since I could no longer live on campus, until I could find an apartment or a job back in my hometown. But uh... I didn't really. His mom was really judgemental and controlling, even though she would be outwardly nice to me, and I could tell my presence was annoying her but my ex kept insisting it was ok. There were a couple times when she cracked and threw a big tantrum. Once was on his dad's birthday. She would say the most targeted yet indirect things to get under his and my skin, and it would escalate over the course of the evening to full on screaming at him later. I didn't know what to do except to walk out to the curb and cry and think about throwing myself in front of a car. It was traumatizing. But she had her own trauma going on, and abusive exes and even crazier sisters, and there was this whole drama while I lived there and his grandfather was dying that was just awful for everyone involved. Anyways in November everything came to a head and she threw a massive fit that culminated in kicking him and me (his "liberal-ass girlfriend") out. I remember packing and feeling weirdly calm, like the fear had pushed past some limit and saturated and become nothing. I stayed at a labmate's apartment that night and for the next couple days, quit my job and moved home. I tried to pay his mom $600 for letting me stay as long as she did but she didn't accept it. I accidentally left a box of my dad's records there in my hurry to get out. And he broke up with me a week after my birthday in 2016. So it goes.

Anonymous 2: school picture day i  had a really fucked up dye job because i tried to make my hair pink without any help and i did not bleach it nearly enough to go a color that light. i was wearing a grey shirt with flowers on the arms

Lucas: I remember watching some political content on YouTube

Anonymous 3: Walking on the hill with my mother, it was warm and windy, I was the most suicidal I'd ever been, waiting for sertraline to start working, and I had to tell her how scared I was that I was going to die, and had to ask her to help me, even though the knowledge that I was making her have knowledge that her child was suicidal was an even worse feeling than being acutely suicidal

Anonymous 4: Joining my schools weekly tv broadcast (just about school news)

Anonymous 5: Though maybe that happened in this year. Logging onto a now defunct social media site

superswag: Second memory, watching qubo, and being an tablet baby

v0w0v: Playing games online and in person with my ex and his friends. We were in a ranked league of legends team that did pretty well and would play DnD on weekends. One of them was really rich and had peacocks in the backyard. One of the peacocks was named Kevin Bacon. I remember near the end of summer we all went jetskiing on the rich friend's property and I got too excited with the sharp turns and launched myself into the water.

Anonymous 6: Looking online and learning what transgender is from an online post, realising I felt weird about being male.

Anonymous 7: calling someone a cunt for the first time because they smacked an ice cream out of my hand during lunch.

binnie: Super Smash Bros 4... The most I enjoyed school up to this point was definitely playing this game during lunch, it was filled with such excitement even if it was fairly routine for one kid in particular to win all the time.

Anonymous 8: Getting into my first relationship, although it was a short one.

April M. Mildew: I was in bed after watching skeptic atheist debunking videos with a smug look on my 12 year old face and then I for the first time I considered the idea that I would die and there would be "nothing" and that it would just end. I shook with fear. I had to get rid of the blanket I slept with because it was causing the thoughts.

[lazaruspiss]

20 questions for writers

tagged by @roipecheur mwah mwah !!

1. how many works do you have on AO3? - 34

2. what's your total AO3 word count? - 65,516

3. what fandoms do you write for? - its pure DC brainrot babes. maybe that'll change one day, but i have a hard time balancing multiple interests

4. what are your top 5 fics by kudos? - A Kind Place To Rest, What’s in a gift?, Indulgence, Always a Kitten, Red Wings

5. do you respond to comments? - i try!!! but know that even if i don't reply i give each and every comment a lil smooch

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? - most of my stuff is pretty fucked up, but Black fish, blue fish, old fish, new fish. and The Leagues That Go Bump In The Night are probably up there? both because they involve Dick experiencing violent assaults with the promise of more to come and because he doesn't compartmentalize/justify/repress it much at all. so he's just forced to experience The Horrors. Damian's chapter in A curse in disguise. is the thing that actually makes me wanna yell though. I wrote that?? I only have myself to blame for making me feel things??? what the fuck man.

7. what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? - tough question. hm. I was able to pull up like, 6 candidates, but I'm not really sure how to measure "happy ending". Endings that were the most... more happy by the end than when they started...? i guess? There are a few that end on a "and the ship sailed happily ever after" type note. New Beginnings is a bit more enthusiastically happy, because Dick and Kori are just so damn excited to have babies

8. do you get hate on fics? - most of the hate i've gotten has been tumblr anons, lol

9. do you write smut? If so, what kind? - the freaky kind >:) (22/34 of my fics are explicit)

10. do you write crossovers? - nah. thought about it, have wanted to, but it takes a bit more planning than a regular fic

11. have you ever had a fic stolen? - nah

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? - no, but i would welcome it so long as it linked back and all that

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? - WAIT YES I HAVE. in middle school i think? during a sleepover a friend and i sat together on a couch and sent emails back and forth, taking turns adding onto a smut fic about british gaming youtubers that i dont think they even knew? also our incredibly innocent/prudish christian friend might have also been there lmao. that fic stayed in our emails im pretty sure.

14. What's your all-time favorite ship? - ough...h hg..... jay and cole from ninjago. w other series i tend to be more "pick a fav and explore all possible parings involving them", but i only ever picture jay and cole with each other. for me that means something

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you will? - oh uh. gotta bust out file explorer hold on. I did plan on making an entire series of fics connected to Little Princess, but I doubt I'll get to that, especially bc im not that proud of that fic anymore. there are a couple more fairly detailed and large projects sitting in my scrapped folder. and i mean, i keep a scrapped folder bc that way i dont have the pressure of finishing it but i still have the option if i want to.

16. What are your writing strengths? - uhm. uh.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? - forget to write the words. i also have a bit of dyslexia and miss stuff no matter how much i proof read

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? - depends? if it's a full conversation then i think i'd opt for <dialogue> or something like that, but if it's for random background chatter or mixed language dialogue then maybe just use the actual words. kind of have to, in the second case. spanglish type talk is fun actually, like sometimes i just talk like that to try and figure out what spanish i remember

19. First fandom you wrote for? - probably minecraft youtubers? the first i posted online was my hero academia tho. dont ask me about MHA btw i literally only care about kaminari and stopped keeping up like 4 years ago

20. Favourite fic you've written? - uh. hm. Aha! only my third fic but it ticks all my boxes and i love it dearly: Lulu Belle And The Cat-Chaser

[idjitlovespie]

Thomas Colton Padalecki - March 19, 2012

Happy 7th Birthday Tom ♥

[dollwritesarchive]

𝓂𝑜𝑜𝓃𝓁𝒾𝓉 ⎹ 𝓗.𝓙.

fandom dc comics / galaxy’s edge au masterlist / @dollsdc-library

featuring stepdad!hal jordan x minx!reader ( f! )

rating none of my work is meant to be viewed by minors (anyone under the age of eighteen), and i will happily block any that interact with my posts or my blog.

content warning stepdad fantasy, infidelity ( him ), daddy kink, very very brief somnophilia, creampie

summary coming home after too long away, hal has one thing on his mind. his wife’s daughter.

word count 2.5k / mini musing

attention do not repost or translate, even with ‘credit’. just don’t do it. reblog instead of like. leave feedback if you enjoyed.

the entire trip home, Hal’s hands were shaking. he missed Earth. he missed his home, his warm bed, he missed plopping down on the couch to have a beer, instead of saving the universe. most of all, he missed you.

he knew that he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help himself. he was feverish, his mind racing with visages of you. they were memories, the same ones that kept him up at night, alone, and fucking his own fist in the dark, wishing he was nestled deep inside you. time away from home had gotten significantly harder to bear since you came along.

and now, here he was, headed home with his body on fire. he needed you.

it had to be well after midnight when he finally stood in the drive, sliding the ring from his finger into his pocket. the house was completely dark, and he kept it that way even when he crept inside. his wife had work early in the morning, and any respectable husband would tiptoe up the stairs, and slide into bed as quiet as a mouse so as not to wake her. that thought twisted a grimace on to Hal’s countenance as he took the steps two at a time.

when had he ever been a respectable husband?

reaching the landing, with only the dull glow of the moon to guide him, he’s met with two options: his bedroom and yours.

it was hardly a choice at all.

in an instant, he’s standing in front of your door with his hand on the knob. his heart pounds against his rib cage and he finds it even harder to breathe when he lets himself inside. firstly, he’s hit with a wave of your perfume, and the lingering faintness of your body wash. you always smelled so damn sweet, like a candy shop, and it drove him crazy. then, he sees you on the bed. curled up on your side, you’re nested under a layer of sheets, but he knows that you’re not wearing much, just your panties; your torso swaddled in a skimpy, cropped tank. he remembered the emerald garment — you’d been upset when Green Lantern pajama set you wanted only came in child sizes, but you’d still bought one that was a size too small. you often wore the top around the house, your breasts all but spilling over the neckline, making it incredibly difficult for Hal to keep his eyes off of you. Hal’s eyes flickered over the multiple newspaper clippings, posters, and Polaroid pictures of his own countenance. at first, he thought it was a bit strange, sleeping with a GL fangirl that had no idea her stepdaddy was behind the mask, but now he was even mildly amused.

maybe one day he’d tell you.

as he pressed closer to your bed, he considered the probability of you even begging to suck him off while he wears the suit. it was surprisingly likely, and he couldn’t help but smirk, thinking about how powerful he’d feel, fully suited up, with a handful of your hair, listening to you choke on him.

Hal shuddered as he stripped and climbed into the bed; no more fantasies. he was here. you were here. and he was going to go crazy if he couldn’t have you right now. he’d waited long enough, wanted long enough. sliding in behind you, one strong arm snakes around your waist and pulls you back into his warmth. Hal dips his head, leaving a trail of kisses over your neck leading up to your ear. you hum in your sleep, pressing back against him, your butt grinding against his already hardening cock.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, incredulous into your ear, one hand grasping your hip to keep you flush against him so he can press his bare erection against your panties, “I missed just how good you feel in my arms.” you were starting to come around, mumbling incoherent in a soft, sleepy little voice, but his free hand was already sliding up to rest against your throat, angling your head back so he can nip at your lobe. the opposite one careens over your hip and delves under the layer of cover, for his fingers to spear against your panties.

“H—al—“ you groan, eyes still closed, but one of your hands flee behind you to grasp the back of his head, your hips oscillating to grind against his palm. “You’re… home… finally…”

“Finally’s right.” he mutters, finding your steady swelling clit even through the thin, dampening fabric. “Hope you’ve been a good girl since I’ve been gone.”

you purr, tilting your head back even further to look up at him, your eyelids finally fluttering open, and your teeth sink into your lip to stifle a sultry moan. “Feel how wet my little pussy is, daddy?” you coo, “I’ve been good.” he’d set damn near impossible rules for when he left for work — no touching yourself. there had been plenty of times when you were aching for it, rubbing your thighs together, trying to get yourself off without breaking his stupid rule, but the stimulation wasn’t enough. so you spent the last three months wanton and in a damn-near constant state of slick, dreaming about just how good his thick cock feels on your belly. it was torture, and you fixed your mouth to tell him so.

Hal grunts, lips grazing your forehead as your crown rests against his heaving chest, his fingers pressing hard on your clothed button. you sigh in pleasure, back arching, but his forearm digs into your belly, pressing you back against his abdomen, “You know why daddy has his no touching rule, minx?” you shake your head, whining soft, keeping heavily lidded eyes on his taut countenance, “Because I want you to to be so damn needy by the time I come home that you soak my fingertips,” he seals his mouth over your forehead in a lazy kiss, rubbing in vicious circles, “wanna feel your tight pussy stretch for me, and only me, I wanna feel you cum as soon as I slide it in because you’ve missed being so full of cock that you just can’t hold it in.” you moan out loud, from his words alone, and his hand on your neck shoots up to clamp over your mouth, “Shh,” he pulls you closer to him, eyeline darting towards the bedroom door; it was ajar. aside from your heavy breath on his palm, and the muffled whimpering, the house was still quiet. “You can feel how much I missed you, can’t you?” he asks, rubbing his hard cock against your butt to emphasize his point, and you nod, “Yeah? And you missed me just as much?” another nod, and he sucks in a breath, holding it as if to prepare himself, “Prove it to me.”

your body acts before your brain can catch up, both of your hands sliding down between your legs, one enveloping his thick, throbbing manhood, fondling the sensitive tip until every muscle in his body has tightened. you purr against his palm, eyelashes fluttering, as your digits work to lather his length in his own precum that is just starting to pearl on the head, stroking him from tip, down to base, and back up again. your other hand nudges his away from your core, svelte fingers curling around the crotch of your panties to pull them to one side. “Too impatient to get those off?” he teases, but his teeth are grinding, “You want that cock so bad that you just can’t wait, is that it?” your back arches, and you nod yet again, grasping him by his girthy base and guiding him to your eager cunt. the split and stretch has you both moaning— you, mewling into his hand, and he buries his face in the crook of your neck to groan. “That’s my girl,” he murmurs, slurred, “that’s the warm, fucking pussy I’ve been craving…”

thankful for his hand clamped over your open mouth, you realize just how right he was— the feeling his cock sliding into you after so long has your mind going blank, your eyes crossing as you try to keep them open and on the man behind you. in the dark, you can see the shape of him, chiseled and strong, and you can feel your body already releasing an ounce of ecstasy. it wasn’t near the power of the orgasm you were used to, but it most certainly set your sensitivity level up to one hundred. you push back against him, taking more of his cock into you, moaning happily, and Hal pants in your ear, “Show me just how happy you are to have your daddy and his big, fucking dick home,” he rasps, “fuck yourself for me.”

you wanted to protest; you were too spoiled by his raw power when he pounded deep, and you wanted to feel him plow you into the mattress, but you were too starved for him to put up a fight. with a pitifully muffled moan, you rock back against him, listening to the squelching as you use him like a cheap sex toy. you were so fucking wet; when he plunges back inside there’s almost no resistance at all, allowing you to slam yourself back and take him hilt deep.

“Good fucking girl,” Hal moans in your ear, kissing it, his free hand running up to take hold of the neckline of your top, jerking it downwards to free your bouncing breasts. he paws at one, then gives it a firm slap, before massaging the sting into your flesh. you yelp, kissing his palm. “stay nice and quiet for daddy, just listen to how sloppy wet your pussy is, swallowing all of me like the greedy, little fuckhole she is.”

you whimper, brows knitting together. there’s a churning in your belly already, intensifying each time your ass jiggles, smushing against his pelvis to take him deep. you’re close to cumming, again, and this time it’ll be big. hopefully, Hal would keep his hand over your mouth, otherwise you worried you might wake your mother, screaming for her husband’s cock. your walls shudder with excitement, the impending climax crossing your eyes as you look up at him.

he’s equally as tense, jaw strung tight, features harsh, and you can feel droplets of his sweat tickle your forehead. “My little Minx gonna cum already? It feel that good, baby?” he croons, forcing a strained smirk, and you nod, “Mm, I know, I can feel you already starting to tighten up on me— fuck, I’m close, you want to cum with daddy?”

“Mm! Mhm!” you cry, deciding that nodding was not a fervent enough answer. you arch back into him, hips quivering.

“Yeah?” he teases, his own body rocking into you this time, pounding the syllable home. “Hold on to something, minx.”

you knew exactly what that meant.

scrambling, you only reach for him, the hand that keeps your noises muffled, and your nails dig into his forearm. just in time, too, because Hal grips your breast in one hand, and your mouth in the other, and immediately jackhammers into your body with so much force that your feet kick, haplessly, between his legs. you squeal, a pathetic and whiny sound that dies in his hand as he batters your sex, using your body to fuck his way into bliss, and you drop off along the way, coming undone with shivering, whimpering spasms of pure pleasure.

“I’m going to cum in your pussy, little minx…” it’s hardly a warning, but you didn’t care. if anything, you might be offended if he chose not to fill your tummy after months of being away. Hal sounds just like a beast when he cums, snorting and groaning, and you’d never tire of hearing it. his hot breath pricking goosebumps on your neck that was already littered with his saliva and lovebites, his hands cruel on your skin, leaving the shape of them imprinted. “Fuck, take me, perfect girl, take me.”

your thighs are quivering when you start to feel the familiar growing warmth in your core, and Hal takes his precious time pulling out, teasing your clenching cunt, drawing his cock out a torturous speed until the swollen head pops free.

he’s breathing even more ragged as he wrenches the sheets back, sitting up on he knees. finally released from his grip, you gasp for more air, rolling over on to your back, your hands falling back by your flushed countenance on the pillow. you’d made a mess of the sheets, the patch of wet visible under your bum, but he stares at it with a lusty grin, prying your quivering thighs open. “Show me,” he barks, husky and desperate.

you whine, spreading your legs even though they’re starting to cramp up, and one hand runs down over your breasts, down to your belly, and eventually to your sex. using two fingers, you spread your sticky lips apart, flashing him your used hole as it twitches. Hal presses his palm on your lower belly, and his cum leaks out of you in a gooey mess. “Look at the mess you made, Minx,” he groans, two fingers scooping what he can as it coats your core, “are you daddy’s messy, little whore?”

“Yes.” you moan, arching your back.

Hal quirks a brow, pushing those fingers into you, forcing the cocktail of arousal back into your body, “Tell me.”

you bite your lip, thighs trying to snap closed, but he’s pushing all of his weight on to one, keeping it pinned to the mattress, “I’m daddy’s messy, little whore!” you croak, nodding happily.

Hal seems pleased enough, pushing your hand away so he can pull your ruined panties back in place. he pats your pussy through them, as if proud of the carnage he’s lain. “And you’re going to lay right here, oozing daddy’s cum, and think about how good it feels being his whore until you fall asleep, aren’t you?”

a breathless smile tickles your lips, “Yes, daddy, and I’ll dream about you fucking me senseless, like I always do.” your voice has leveled out to a small degree, allowing for the singsong chirp to return.

your stepdad smiles, too, leaning over to kiss your forehead. “Attagirl.” he murmurs, before he’s climbing out of your bed and pulling his pants back on. it was shame to cover up his naked form, you’d always thought that, and now as you watched him, you nibble on your lip. his muscles bulging and contracting as he bends over to retrieve his shirt.

“Don’t go in there and fuck her.” you hiss, eyes narrowed.

Hal pauses, turns, and quirks a brow. “Is my little minx jealous?”

[bidisasterevankinard]

Eternity in your hands

Buck still can`t believe it. His little girl sleeps peacefully on his chest with his big hands on her back. She was born a week ago, at home for three days. And still it feels unrealistically. Like Buck is dreaming. But he is not. She is here, in her LAFD onesie, which he bought for her the moment they found out about their surrogate mother pregnancy.  

Eddie had just smiled after Buck brought it home, hugging him behind and said it would be definitely their favorite onesie. And it is. It was the first outfit their baby girl wore in the hospital after nurses had cleaned her.  

This onesie highlights her blue eyes when she is not sleeping, and Buck feels so proud knowing she takes it from him.  

“You know we should put her in a crib otherwise she will constantly demand to sleep in our arms, right?”, Eddie`s whisper breaks the silence in which Buck has been for some time. He can`t say how much exactly. He actually can`t say how he ended up with her in his arms, while he is sitting in his and Eddie`s bed. But he is pretty sure his little loss of time is explained by having a little baby who need to be feed in the night. He's just a little sleep deprived because of taking care of the baby girl.

That is the only reason all the memories of his life are a little bit blurred. But he remembers how Eddie asked him out first time, how they moved together month after, and got married six months after. He remembers how they struggled for months trying to find a good surrogate mother, how they were waiting for a succeed and how miraculously it was to have a positive test from the first try. Buck remembers it. It is his life.

“I know”, Buck turns his head to Eddie, who is looking at Buck with a haze of sleep in his eyes, “but today she`s a little bit in the mood, and I didn`t want her to wake you. And I really wanted to cuddle her too. She wouldn`t be so small for a long time. I want to picture it in my brain.“

“Can I join?”, Eddie asks sitting on the bed next to his husband, resting his head on Buck's shoulder. He puts one arm around Buck's waist, and puts the other on the vacant place on the baby's back, as Buck puts his hand on his thigh, lightly stroking it with his thumb in a circle. Younger man puts his head on Eddie's. And they both look down at their princess.

“I love you and our little family,” says Buck with all the love and adoration he has in his heart for a man who made him happy. “Thank you for loving me. Thank you for our family.”

“I love you too”, Eddie whispers it into his ear. “Loving you is the easiest thing I`ve ever done,” older man squeezes the hand on her husband's waist tighter. “Thank you for loving me, Chris and our little girl. Thank you for our family”.

They continue to cuddle in the light of the early morning sun holding their baby girl in their arms in silence. They don't need words to enjoy this moment. A moment of love. And even little voice inside Bucks brain, telling him he should not get so comfortable in this life, can`t break the atmosphere of love and happiness around him. He will stay in the arms of his husband and daughter for as long as he can, because there is no way he will let go of this moment just like that. Perhaps he will be able to negotiate with the universe about eternity.

I dedicate this work to @loveyourownsmiilee because you're created the coma!Buck theory and I'm in love with this and to @swiftiediaz I really love your works and you're inspired me to write myself and I felt proud with the result so I posted it

It's my 1st work in the buddie fandom and 1st on English. I hope you like it😊 Let me know your opinion

[humanwheatleyslefttoenail]

why do you ship chell and glados if glados is basically her mom

Okay this is actually a pretty common misconception in the fandom that unfortunately a lot of people have taken as canon, but I’m feeling nice so I’ll answer your question.

Basically, anon is referencing a theory from around 2012 that Caroline is Chell’s mom. The evidence for the theory is as follows:

- The turret opera calls Chell “bambina”, which means “little girl” in Italian

- Chell’s name can be found on a Bring Your Daughter To Work Day science project

- GLaDOS references the possibility of Chell being adopted multiple times

- GLaDOS is significantly nicer to Chell after discovering she’s Caroline 

And, anon, you’re right, it does sound like a pretty good argument at first glance. The problem is that a lot of these points don’t actually hold up to scrutiny.

For example, although “bambina” literally translates to “little girl,” it’s often used in the same way “baby girl” is used in English - it can mean child, but contextually it’s usually a flirtatious term. (Source: Cambridge Dictionary)

For Chell’s science project, it doesn’t work as evidence for the theory because GLaDOS killed the scientists around 1998-ish, when Caroline had presumably been uploaded several years earlier and Cave was already dead. Also, Chell’s in her 20′s, and since we know from Lab Rat/Portal 2 that people don’t age in stasis, and that Doug put Chell at the top of the test subject list only weeks after the takeover, Chell was 28 at the time of the takeover. The science project is really only an Easter egg and doesn’t actually fit into the canon timeline let alone prove anything about Caroline and Cave. 

GLaDOS talking about Chell being adopted is a pretty strong point, I’ll admit, but also it’s important to remember that maybe half of what GLaDOS says is true. And even if we take what she says at face value, she also says there’s a man and a woman in stasis with Chell’s last name, which could not have been Cave and Caroline because they were already dead at that point. And the official book Final Hours Of Portal 2 confirms Cave and Caroline were not married and could not have shared the same name anyway. It was also the 50′s, an an unmarried couple of two likely famous people having a child would’ve been scandalous, and yet we see no hint of something like this affecting their company. 

Also, although GLaDOS is nicer to Chell after the Caroline reveal, that’s not necessarily indicative of a mother-daughter relationship, and neither is any of their interactions. It’s just. GLaDOS being friendlier. 

Finally, when this theory was made (and let’s be honest - it still is happening) Chell was constantly whitewashed to hell and back. 

Chell is Japanese-Brazilian, and Cave and Caroline are white, so it would be a near impossibility for her to be their biological child (and insisting otherwise is kinda. just. whitewashing). And although people will cry “adoption!”, based on what I’ve previously proven, that’s pretty much impossible. This theory that somehow she’s Cave and Caroline’s daughter erases an important part of her identity. [Disclaimer, I am white, but this is what I’ve heard from around the fandom]

With all that said, the idea that she’s the daughter of Cave and Caroline really doesn’t hold weight when you really analyze the canon. It’s surface level analysis that doesn’t hold up. And honestly? The idea kinda cheapens the story. It’s much more powerful that GLaDOS learns to care about Chell and becomes kinder than just. Oh, she remembered she’s related to Chell. 

But to actually answer your ask. 

Why do I ship them?

Well, they aren’t mother and daughter, I think that’s pretty obvious now. But if you actually look at a lot of subtext in Portal 2, without the lens of the mother theory, it’s actually pretty romantic! 

I know that sounds ridiculous, but bear with me!

Now - it’s totally okay if you don’t ship them. I get it. Their interactions in Portal 1 and the first half of Portal 2 are toxic if not outright well. Y’know. Murderous. I completely understand why that turns people off from shipping them, and ultimately, shipping is a personal thing. To each his own. 

But before you judge me, let me present my case.

Exhibit A: Portal 

Portal is kinda gay. No, really. Chell and GLaDOS are enemies in this game, but the entire focus is on their relationship (good or not) and the power struggle between them. They are opposites, two sides of the same coin, different representations of opposite ideologies. People have analyzed Portal as a relationship metaphor, or as a metaphor about women’s role in society - either way, the heart of Portal is the complicated dynamic between Chell and GLaDOS. 

That’s not necessarily enough to code a romance, but a lot of popular (and especially popular queer ones) ships begin with opposite ideologies, symbolic powers colliding. Portal cements their relationship as a toxic one, something on the verge of falling apart and hurting both parties in the end. The ending image, of Chell and GLaDOS side by side after the battle, reinforces the symbolic parallels between the two. 

The companion cube is also pretty symbolically important to this interpretation. It’s literally a representation of someone’s heart, and you are told to protect it and preserve it under GLaDOS’ orders, and then you have to destroy it regardless of how you actually feel about doing that. You are destroying GLaDOS’ heart, so to speak. 

There’s also the ending song, Still Alive. The lyrics speak for themselves.

They hint that GLaDOS’ feelings about Chell are more complicated than they may appear (if she’s not being sarcastic...) and she literally talks about Chell breaking her heart (also, think back to the companion cube. Yeah.). The entire song is structurally similar to many a breakup number, with the laments of “I’m glad it happened, but also leave.” 

At the end, we also see that the long promised cake GLaDOS was supposedly lying about was real the whole time. Before Portal 2 came out, it was mostly interpreted as a stinger ending (along with the nicer lyrics of Still Alive) to make you question GLaDOS’ true motives and intentions.

She actually did have a real cake waiting for you. (Side note - not really evidence, but in Argentina, “torta” means cake in Spanish. It’s also a slang term for lesbians. So. Do with that what you will). The cake is what GLaDOS offers you to lull you into the sense that she cares about you, so discovering that “the cake is a lie” wakes you up to the realization that she doesn’t. Except then the idea is subverted one last time, at the very end, showing that the cake is real and at least some of what she said she meant. 

You also see the companion cube. You know, GLaDOS’ symbolic heart?

Now, okay, you might be thinking I’m extrapolating a bit too much. And you might be right. But Portal is not the only game in the series, and if you’re asking me about Cave and Caroline you obviously know about Portal 2.

Exhibit B: Portal 2

If you thought Portal was gay, Portal 2 turns that up to 11.

Even before GLaDOS wakes up, you’re treated to some visual subtext. A few of Rattmann’s drawings representing the events of Portal 2 focus a lot on the relationship between GLaDOS and Chell, with more of the cake symbolism.

In this, you can see a face layered on top of GLaDOS. This could be foreshadowing about Caroline, and likely is, but also resembles his other drawing of Chell. It insists that Chell is a part of GLaDOS, or reinforces parallels between Chell and Caroline, hinting at something either way. 

In this picture, we also see Chell standing on top of GLaDOS, in the same position where the overlay of the feminine face was, again referencing the parallel. It also presents them as opposites, fundamental parts of the same thing and both connected to the same basis, but on opposing sides. 

When GLaDOS wakes up, she returns to her antagonistic role, but there are more hints to something deeper just like in Portal. 

Here, in her awakening lines, she references Chell not unlike an estranged ex. Also worth noting that GLaDOS is pretty much the personification of testing (in a sense, she is testing since she can control all of Aperture like an extension of her body), and insinuates that Chell loves to test. And that she reciprocates that feeling.

In test chamber 10, she says this:

It’s supposed to be threatening, but it does read as almost... sentimental. 

There’s also another chamber with companion cubes in Portal 2. I already talked about their symbolism in Portal, and the same pretty much applies to them here. However, GLaDOS says something interesting about them during this level:

Once again, meant to be intimidating, ends up coming off as “well, GLaDOS, why were you going to give Chell a heart shaped representation of yourself that says ‘I love you?’” And you might think I’m stretching the GLaDOS’ heart metaphor thing a little far here, and I might agree, if the companion cubes didn’t literally sing Cara Mia for you. 

Cara Mia is the turret opera from the end of the game, which is all about how much GLaDOS cares about Chell. More on that later. But the companion cubes play a song called Love as A Construct, and when you get close to them, they sing a specific part of the song that has the tune of Cara Mia. These things literally exist to sing about GLaDOS’ feelings. 

Which makes this line a lot more. For lack of a better term. Tsundere-ish.

Then, right before the escape, she starts talking about the confetti from her fake surprise. 

I really don’t have to explain this one. What else does GLaDOS consider an inconvenience but might miss anyway? Or, more aptly, who else?

Then, during the escape, she teases a (fake) final test chamber in front of you, and forms the panels in the shape of a heart. No, really. 

Up to this point, a lot of the points I’ve presented are interspersed with a fair amount of antagonization on GLaDOS’ behalf, more Foe Yay than anything actually hinting at something deeper than GLaDOS being conflicted about whether she loves or hates Chell. But things really ramp up after Wheatley’s betrayal, when the two of them are forced to team up. (I should also note here that “enemies to lovers” is a pretty classic queer romance trope.)

Here, GLaDOS is put on an equal level with Chell and they have to rely on each other if they want to survive. For the rest of the singleplayer campaign, GLaDOS becomes a lot nicer and even friendly to Chell. There comes a point where she starts referring to Chell as a teammate, calling them “we.” She begins to consider them one unit, two opposites unified. Here’s what she says after the lemon rant:

You can not only see her using we, but actively talking about how her and Chell are going to fight Wheatley together. There’s also that last line - “let’s explode with some dignity.” GLaDOS has fully accepted the very likely possibility that she and Chell might die together. That she might die on the same level, and the same team as Chell. And she seems... surprisingly okay with that, as long as she and Chell go together. 

It’s during the Old Aperture levels that Chell and GLaDOS also discover that they have a lot in common. This is the part of the game where GLaDOS figures out she’s Caroline, that she’s human. Or, that she’s like Chell. And Chell discovers (from what we can tell anyway) that Caroline is kind, that she’s funny and smart and so many of these things she never noticed about GLaDOS before. Now also with the knowledge she is fighting alongside another human being. 

You can also draw parallels between Chell and Caroline, both intelligent women ultimately betrayed by their seemingly innocuous male friends before being trapped in Aperture and forced to team up with one another in a way that will free both of them. We see that really, GLaDOS isn’t that different from Chell - she too has been imprisoned in this place against her will, but in a completely different way. Once again, the idea of two sides of the same coin applies here. 

I’ve written another meta about this before, but I also think the whole idea of repressing a part of your identity and hating it, before bonding with another woman and then realizing that it’s okay to be like her and to be on her side. It’s okay to be yourself and meeting her is what helps you discover this new part of yourself. Is kinda inherently gay. GLaDOS’ discovery of her own humanity just fits so well into a queer realization narrative, to me at least.

Then, Chell and GLaDOS escape Old Aperture and have to get through Wheatley’s tests. 

Here, GLaDOS isn’t just begrudgingly on Chell’s team. She’s actively helpful. She wants to help Chell solve tests, defends her from Wheatley’s insults, and makes jokes to lighten the mood. Things that can really only be explained by her caring about Chell, especially the part about the insults. See below.

After the two escape Wheatley’s testing track, right before the boss fight GLaDOS has a few other things to say.

GLaDOS is not going to betray Chell, because of some kind of conscience. But she could easily ignore that back in her body, and yet? Here she’s deciding not to, and for no good reason. She didn’t have to say that to Chell, but she did, because she cares and she wants Chell to live.

And then, moments before the fight:

The final lines imply that GLaDOS does not think of Chell as an enemy anymore, and that it doesn’t matter what Chell thinks because they are in this together and they are getting revenge together. It’s pretty heartwarming to be honest, to know that even in a fight that will almost certainly kill you, she is there rooting for you and caring about you, even if you don’t feel the same way about her. It no longer matters to GLaDOS whether you even reciprocate - you staying alive, you making it through is enough for her.

So Chell fights Wheatley and sends him into space, all well and good, and at this point, GLaDOS has the option to kill Chell. But not only does she not, she actively saves Chell, and holds her hand in the process. If you don’t believe me:

And not only that, but when Chell goes unconscious from her injuries, GLaDOS sits and waits for her to wake up. It’s also implied that GLaDOS carries her to the elevator, since it’s where she wakes up but not where she passed out. In the scene where Chell blacks out, you can also hear the part of Love As A Construct that sounds like Cara Mia. Yeah. Yeah.

If you think that this cannot possibly get any gayer, you are wrong again, because then GLaDOS makes her final speech. Which is really just a love confession, let’s be honest.

The “surge of emotion?” Do you mean love, GLaDOS? And the idea of GLaDOS considering Chell her best friend, despite everything these two have done to each other? The idea that GLaDOS, out of all people, forgives someone?

Except this isn’t even Chell’s final send-off. GLaDOS writes her an entire opera of turrets, that sing a literal love song. (Note what I said earlier about the use of the word “bambina”).

It really can’t get any more obvious than that. “My (affectionate romantic term here), my dear, I adore you.” How. Is. That. Heterosexual. In. Any. Way.

So Chell goes to the surface, set free by GLaDOS (think of the saying “if you love something, set it free), and you think that’s the end. Until GLaDOS gives you a companion cube so you aren’t alone on the journey, and from the burn marks, you know it’s your first companion cube. Her original heart, her first gift to you, a piece of her that she wants you to carry with you to remind you that she does care about you after everything. It also gives the lyrics to Still Alive a much more genuine meaning. 

Portal 2 ends, and then the ending song, another GLaDOS number plays. Just like Still Alive, Want You Gone is structurally a break up song and very obviously about GLaDOS missing Chell and “counting on” (read: caring about/loving) Chell’s tendencies and quirks. 

She’s accepted Chell completely, and yet also given Chell the one thing she wants most. Only wanting Chell gone can mean GLaDOS not wanting Chell in her life anymore, but can also mean she wants to give Chell the freedom she’s wanted for so, so long. It’s the best thing she can give.

In the co-op campaign, GLaDOS also references still caring about Chell.

And that’s the end of the Portal series. Except. Brace yourself. Despite the games being over, there is STILL more subtext somehow. It gets. Even gayer.

Exhibit C: Supplemental Evidence

Valve has made a lot of extra/cut content for the Portal series, and I’ll be looking at some of it below.

This official valentine from Valve shows GLaDOS offering a romantic partner cake, which as we’ve established before, is very symbolic of GLaDOS’ feelings about and/or relationship with Chell. 

There’s a lot of other concept art and official art that emphasizes their relationship too. See below.

There’s also some cut GLaDOS lines that are even gayer than the source material and again, sound like confessions or references to a breakup:

The idea of “discovering things about someone”... how much more obvious can it get?

The developers have even confirmed a lot of my commentary on Chell and GLaDOS’ relationship in The Final Hours Of Portal 2. See these quotes from the book/this post:

The devs literally describe it as a romance. They use terms like “cheating,” they wanted to write a romantic duet, JoCo purposefully wrote the endings like love songs. It is literally, blatantly said by the creators of the game that their relationship is interpreted romantically. By the creators of the game. 

And if Word of God confirmation isn’t enough for you, have a song written for a cut alternate ending by GLaDOS’ voice actress, Ellen McClain. The song is literally nothing but GLaDOS talking about caring about Chell, about not wanting her to die/leave GLaDOS alone, about wanting to bake a cake with Chell, about waiting for Chell to wake her up. It’s so genuinely sweet and sad, and really, really romantic in the most heartwrenching way possible. 

JoCo also came back for the Portal levels in Lego Dimensions, writing one final breakup song for GLaDOS to sing about Chell. It comes off as GLaDOS not wanting to admit she misses Chell even though she obviously does, trying to replace their relationship but failing, and even explicitly forgiving Chell/wanting her to come back.

Also, the “finally I understand,” as if only now GLaDOS understands just how deep her feelings for Chell are... What else can I say?

In Lego Dimensions, GLaDOS also outright rejects anyone who isn’t Chell.

In Conclusion:

Why do I ship Chell and GLaDOS? 

Well, ultimately, it doesn’t matter whether I ship them. 

Because I think it’s glaringly obvious Portal does.

[bigasswritingmagnet]

Uncle Bob

Fandom: Psychonauts Rating: G Summary: Bob Zanotto does have roots, if he'd like to reconnect to them. Lili has a plant question, and Bob's got an answer.

"Ok, see the bolt your hand is on?" Helmut asked.  

"Yes..."

"Not that one. Go left. Left. Left. More left. Less left--"

Bob looked away from the block of grease and rust that was the Feel Mobile's engine, and leveled a flat stare to the brain ball beside him.

"You mean right?" Bob said. It was hard to feel annoyed or upset with someone when you forgot how to breathe every time you remembered that they were alive, but he was  definitely  about to manage some exasperation.  

"This would be so much easier if I had hands. I could just point!"

"Helmut, if you had hands, you could do this yourself," Bob said. "Why don't you wait until we get back from Grulovia?"

"I can't wait that long! Look at the state it's in!" The ball rolled forward until it thunked gently against the side of the bus. "My baby."

"What if you got Otto to help you instead?"

"Oh no no no, not while I don't have the hands to stop him from making "improvements" while he's in there."

Bob had to give him that one.

"We can do this!" Helmut insisted, with such enthusiasm Bob couldn't help but smile. "We're a great team. Just put your hand back where it was and move it very slowly left until I say stop."  

"Hey guys!" Rescue came in the shape of Raz rounding the corner and waving. "Whatcha doin'?"

"We're fixing the Feel Mobile!"

"We are trying to fix the Feel Mobile," Bob corrected. "But I don't know anything about engines, and Helmut doesn't have hands. It's a process."

"Fortunately, I am excellent at instructions," Helmut said. "Just because I don't have eyes doesn't mean I can't see you rolling yours, Bobby."

"What brings you out to our neck of the woods?" Bob asked.

"We had a plant question," Raz said, triumphantly. There was a brief pause.   

"Is that the royal 'we', or...?" Helmut asked. 

Raz looked at the empty space at his left. He looked at the empty space at his right. He looked back up the way he came. He gave Bob a slightly embarrassed smile and held up a finger, backing away.

"Gimme one second."

Bob tossed the wrench into the tool kit and stood, a process that was a lot more involved than it used to be.

"Jeez, you sound so old," Helmut teased.

"I am old, you--" The words cut off short, caught in Bob's throat at the flash of dark pigtails zipping back behind a tree. Bob looked away, wiping his hands off on a rag, but he couldn't stop Raz's words from drifting into his ears. The kid had lowered his voice, but not low enough.

"You can't be shy, you're you. ...What? ...Why wouldn't he?"

"Bobby?" Helmut asked, softly.

"It's Truman's daughter," Bob said, gruffly, focusing very hard on getting the grease out from around his nailbeds.   

"Oh."

What must she think of him? The last time he'd seen her she wasn't even walking yet. She'd only know him as the crazy old hermit who lived on top of a thorn tower and hated everyone. Or worse, as the drunken mess who screwed up so many missions his own nephew had had to put him out to pasture before he got somebody killed--

Something bonked insistently against his ankle.

"Hey. Hey. Stop that," Helmut ordered. "You're great and she'll love you."

"But--"

Another bonk, this one so hard it actually hurt.

"You're. Great. And. She'll. Love. You."  

"Of course he'll like you! ...My psychic senses tell me so. ...It'll be fine, I promise."

Lili stepped out from behind the tree. She looked exactly like the pictures Truman had sent, minus the usual glazed look that came with a school photo. She was clutching a terracotta pot to her chest, one far too large for the sullen, drooping stalks that protruded from it.

"Hey there!" Bob said, trying to sound as cheerful and un-evil-hermit-that-lives-in-the-woods as possible. She approached slowly, but at least didn't look like she was on the verge of running away.

"Hi," she said, softly. "Um...Raz said you might be able to help me with my amaryllis. I've been trying to get it to bloom again. I let it go dormant twice, but it still won't put out any buds."

Bob reached out, and then hesitated. Lili released the pot, which floated over to Bob and hovered. Bob examined the plant, curious. He was impressed, to say the least. Second bloom or no, there weren't a lot of ten year olds who could successfully winter an amaryllis at all, let alone twice in a row.

"No fungus, no pests," he muttered. "Soil seems fine. Is it getting the right kind of light?"

"In the window, sunny and south facing," Lili said, with more confidence. "I checked the soil acidity, I used filtered water, I tried different kinds of plant foods, I tried playing music, I tried talking to it--"

"Yelling at it," Raz corrected.

"I was only yelling because talking wasn't working," Lili said, narrowing her eyes at him. Bob cleared his throat to hide his chuckle.

"Welp," Bob said. "I figured out your problem."

"You did?" Lili's eyes lit up. "What is it? What should I do?"

"You got a dud bulb," Bob said. He prodded the limp leaves, which looked like tangled green shoelaces. "You should just toss it."

"...what?"

Bob gave her a large wink, then continued loudly.

"Yep. That's amaryllis for you. They're weak, give up easy."

The leaves twitched.

"I never bothered with them, honestly. They need so much hand holding, and as for looks, well..."

"You're right," Lili said, nodding sagely. "They're just not pretty enough to justify all the work I've been putting into them. Maybe I should just dump them and grow tulips instead."

"Honestly, you're better off with roses--"

The stalks shot up, straight as arrows and quivering with indignation. Lili laughed in delight as first one, then two, then three pink bulbs swelled and unfurled into three perfect flowers.

"I can't believe that worked!" she cried.

"...did you just use reverse psychology on a plant?" Raz asked, nonplussed.

"Yep. Nothing like spite to put a little color in a flower. Amaryllises are divas," he told Lili. "You need to treat them carefully, but don't coddle them. Make 'em work for your attention." He took the pot in his hands and held it away, leaning down to mutter "And they hate roses."  

"It's a plant," Raz said, in the same tone.

"You get used to it," Helmut said.

"But it's--"

"Let it go, kid. Trust me."

Bob handed the pot to Lili and opened his mouth to ask Helmut to explain just what that was supposed to mean...

But the girl took the pot in both hands and beamed up at him with a smile like the sun, and said "Thanks Uncle Bob."

It made it very hard to think of anything to say other than 'sure thing, kiddo.'

[closhelby]

Black Hand.

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: usual Peaky shit

Prompt: none bar the scene itself.

Word Count: 1,796.

Author note: wrote this three fucking times I’m at my wits end! Unsure to make this into a few parts.

——

Y/N woke again, at the crack of dawn, rolling over checking her watch, 5.36AM. This was the usual for her, since leaving Birmingham she could barely sleep past 6am, since the breakdown of her marriage.

It was Christmas morning, the first she was spending with only one of her two children. Charlie, y/n’s eldest son was spending his Christmas with his father this year, since splitting y/n and Tommy regularly had sex behind her boyfriends back, and then she fell pregnant, with her now two year old Harry. However, Tommy wasn’t aware of this child being his, and as far as everyone else was aware it was Roberts child.

Y/n rolled out of bed, and began to wash and get ready for the day ahead. She sat at her dressing table, thinking, as she did regularly, how it would’ve been if they didn’t spit. There was still very clearly tension there, sexual especially. Due to this, y/n cut all interaction with Tommy, whenever they needed to talk over Charlie, she would get nanny’s and maids to travel with him.

Just finishing her makeup, finishing her all off with a spritz of perfume and putting on her watch, which now shown it as 6.56am. Y/n went downstairs, starting to make herself a cup of tea when she was startled with the letterbox chattering as the postman put today’s Mail. She moved over to the door, bending over to pick up the letters, opening the first one to reveal a white card with a black hand on the front.

“Fuck!” Y/n’s heart started beating at a rapid rate, she knew that this meant kill or be killed. She needed to get her and Harry out of there ASAP. They weren’t far behind and they already knew where she lived. She ran back upstairs, grabbing overnight bags and stuffing them with her most valuable items and clothes she could possibly wear before doing the same for Harry. All while trying to be as quiet as she could because she didn’t want to wake Rob.

Y/n ran from the house to the car sat on the front drive, she didn’t even bother to ask a driver. She was going alone. Leaving alone. Without an explanation. Despite the severity of the situation, this was brewing for a long time. The current relationship was a cover up. Y/n accepted the fact that the only man she will ever love will remain Thomas Shelby, and she knew it would be the same for him. And I think that’s why they both didn’t file for a divorce.

Quickly packing the car with things she may need for herself and Harry, she ran back upstairs to collect the sleeping boy from his bed and placed him into the front seat of the car. He continued to sleep throughout the car ride, back to Small Heath. Y/n knew Tommy like the back of her hand, she knew that everyone that is associated with the Shelby name would have been dealt a black hand, and knew the only place they could possibly be safe would be in the polluted streets of Birmingham.

Turning the car onto Watery Lane, as all those childhood memory’s flooded back. From when she ran about with John as a kid, to when her and Ada would get into trouble together in her early teens, all the way to building a large profitable business with her husband, all came flooding to her. A rush of emotion, clearly visible on her face as the car came to a halt outside the once betting den. Y/n rarely had any emotion showing, only Tommy would see that in the many nights they spent alone, but that was the same for both of them. They acted tough to everyone else but vulnerable for each other. The bond they had, partners in crime, was admired, despite them both being gangsters.

Tommy was very clearly heartbroken from the downfall in their relationship, he also believed that y/n was the only woman for him in the long run. But the only way he felt that he could get over that was her under someone else. He turned to Lizzie on the regular, and as y/n still kept in contact with Ada, she knew about this. Y/n was very alike Tommy in this sense, if she needed to find something out, it would always come her way, weather she needed to look for it or not. Ultimately they shared a child together, technically two, but there was still so much love there between the both of them.

“Fucking hell,” y/n muttered before kicking in the door that stood before her. Her two year old son clutching to her chest, still fast asleep as she walked towards the family she still loved dearly. Pol loved her, loved her like her own, but they both had a similar trait, they never backed down. And sometimes like Tommy, they would argue for days on end.

Y/n stood before the table, where all but Tommy sat before her. She quickly scanned the room, noticing a blonde woman, she knew was Linda, but hadn’t met was looking at her with a very foul face on her. Ada on the other hand was smiling, excited to see her best friend after years of being away. Tommy standing to her left, eyes wide wondering why his wife was stood before him, in small Heath, with a young child in her hand.

Pol broke the silence first, “What the fuck are you doing here? Tommy tell ya?”

“No however, since you know, I find out absolutely anything I need to,” y/n spoke directing a foul look to Lizzie who was stood over in the corner, “I have also been dealt a black hand.”

There was a mutter of fuck sakes throughout the room, as they realised this was a bit more real than before. Tommy then started to talk about the issue at hand.

“Why are you starting when Johns not here?”

The room fell cold, distant and all eyes were trying to avoid hers. But Tommy wasn’t, he didn’t avoid her gaze as y/n turned to look at him. He very rarely lied to her, he simply couldn’t get away with it if anything, y/n found out everything.

“Fucking ‘ell Tommy, tell me!”

“John was killed this morning, on his front door step infront of his wife.”

Tears started to form in the once emotionless woman, the room felt as though it was caving in on them. Her legs felt heavy, like she could collapse to the ground at any moment, but her head felt light. She quickly muttered to Tommy, handing the baby over, stumbling back to process what she had just been told. John was before all this, they were best friends since they were about 4. They went all throughout school together, and because y/n dad had passed before he could walk her down the isle, John did.

“Those fuckin’ bastards! Christmas Day! Im going to fucking kill them myself,” y/n screamed in frustration.

“She won’t cope well with this,” Ada spoke quietly enough that the table could hear but y/n couldn’t. Ada approached her, giving her a soft cuddle of comfort. Y/n didn’t cry, she didn’t cry infront of anyone. But she was very close today.

She composed herself, breathing out before standing up, “why did I have to marry into this shit?”

“Why haven’t you divorced him?”

Ada knew the answer, she always had.

They both moved back over to the table, Ada returning to her seat while y/n stood by Tommy’s side. He still stood there holding his own child, without the knowledge of it. He continued to speak about the issues they were currently facing with Luca Changretta, but y/n wasn’t even listening to what he was saying, simply zoning out to how weird her life was. She’s looking at the love of her life while they’re no longer together, holding their second son that he has no clue about.

“Y/n?”

Her head quickly shot up following the direction of the voice. Arthur.

“Hm?”

“Peace or truce?” Tommy spoke.

“Peace”

“Very well. Six peace, two truce.” He quickly handed Harry back over to y/n before heading back upstairs. The group got up and left to do their own thing, while Ada sat at the table waiting for the catch up that was well needed between them both.

“Two seconds, I’m just gonna put Harry up to bed.” Ada nodded in response as y/n made her way upstairs to put Harry to bed. She opened the door to find Charlie sleeping in the small bed, leaning over to put Harry at the back of him, giving both of them a peck on the cheek before turning to see Tommy in the door way.

“Your new boyfriend is the dad? But your not married to him?”

“No I’m not married to him.”

“So you had a child out of wedlock?”

She sighed. She wasn’t going to lie to him anymore, there was enough damage and if she knew she would have to spend the next few months living with him, she needed to get it out there as soon as possible.

“No, I’m married.”

“yes, to me.”

Y/n walked over to him, pulling him into the room and closing the door behind him, aware of the fact this house was full. He took a seat on the small chair in the corner, while y/n stood slightly back from him.

“Remember that last fuck we had. Before I refused to see you.”

He nodded.

“I refused to see you because I was pregnant, and I knew it was yours.”

“Fuck sake y/n.” Tommy spoke, running his hands through his hair.

The room then went silent. The two of them not knowing what to say next, for the first time in years they were speechless.

Y/n decided to break it, “He knows. Rob knows he’s not his, he can see it, but it’s never been mentioned. Harry also knows who you are, I’ve shown him pictures of you that I have.”

Tommy stood up abruptly, making his way over to her. His hands wrapped round her waist as he pulled her closer to him. Y/n was looking, and clearly getting lost in his blue eyes. Tommy leaned in to her, their lips meeting softly,y/n began to kiss back. The feeling this was what they both had longed for. Both of them having sex with others that meant absolutely nothing to them. The bedroom door swings open to reveal Finn stood there, his mouth hung wide.

“A - Ada’s wondering where you are?”

Y/n smiled before pulling out the embrace, muttered a thanks then proceeded to go downstairs. She turns round as she’s on the third stair down, “don’t say a thing Finn,”

[sortasirius]

what makes you think the writers want deancas? not trying to be an asshole, i'm just genuinely curious as to why you think that. i know berens' episodes are pretty heavy with subtext so i can see why you'd say that he wants it, but i'm not so sure about the rest of the writers/dabb. it seems like meghan isn't a huge fan either, given her "they twisted it so fast" tweet :/ of course she's a very new writer (think she's only writing one ep this season?) but still

OKAY this is a great question, welcome to my dissertation.

I’m going to address the end of your question first. Meghan is actually DeanCas positive, she has been for quite a long time. She actually, a few years back, posted a picture of her reading a literal book about Destiel and captioned it “writing reading” or something like that.

This whole thing just comes out of a boiling over of tensions because of how nasty fandom twitter can be. Like I said here, I think this has just gotten blown out of proportion, they shouldn’t have posted all this randomly disparaging stuff, but also like...can you blame them? The fandom is a lot, we always have been, and they’re probably also under a gag order not to talk about the finale, and are annoyed that people keep asking.

So nah, Meg is not anti Destiel.

To the first part!! So let’s take a look at the show runners since Cas has been around.

Seasons 4 and 5: Kripke

Seasons 6 and 7: Gamble

Seasons 8-11ish: Carver

Seasons 11ish-15: Dabb

So starting with Kripke. Okay, yes, I will be the first to admit that we have some pretty incredible Destiel moments in these seasons, but it’s less directly written into the plot and much more from Misha and Jensen’s uhhhh ~chemistry~. The only times it was directly written into the script was when the episode was handled by someone like Edlund (“On The Head Of A Pin,” “The End,” “My Bloody Valentine”). And you have to remember, if in season 5, there are moments here and there where you’re like huh that’s suspiciously romantic dialogue, remember that Cas took Anna’s place. Anna was supposed to be endgame for Dean, but due to a myriad of issues and Misha’s general greatness, Anna was replaced with Cas.

Onto 6 and 7. Hmmm. Gamble. 6 and 7 are my two least favorite seasons and that’s no secret, and that’s not only due to the plain old weird shit in the overall storyline, but also that homegirl killed off Cas in s7 and then Bobby like four episodes later. (Also it ALWAYS rubbed me the wrong way they couldn’t have Baby in that season lol). We still had some great DeanCas moments, but again, it wasn’t really written into the overall arc (until they had to change the end of season 7 because of tanking ratings and bring Misha back lol, anyone remember the fact that Dean kept Cas’ jacket and would randomly dream of him? Yeah.). But we still had those moments, those distinctly romantic moments, probably the best example in these two seasons is from Edlund again, specifically “The Man Who Would be King,” I wrote a little about that here.

We move onto Carver, who gave us, at this point, the most overt DeanCas season with season 8 (season gr8 is a better name imo), and this is the first time Dean and Cas’ relationship is directly written as an arc of the season.  I mean, you have everything in Purgatory, Dean “seeing” Cas everywhere, the fact that he felt so guilty that Cas stayed in Purgatory that he manipulated his own memories to think that he was the one that failed Cas, because he couldn’t comprehend that Cas would want to leave him, and let’s not forget Dean snapping Cas out of Naomi’s hold on him in “Goodbye Stranger.”  It was a very obvious shift, not enough to alert the general audience, but more than enough for most of us in fandom.

It’s also important to note that this is when Andrew stopped co writing with Loflin and started writing his own episodes (”Hunter Heroici” anyone?)  I like Loflin fine, but Dabb was able to stretch his legs a little bit more once he stopped co-writing, and we also began to see some DeanCas themes in his solo episodes.

In any case, them and their issues being a big part of the seasons continued with Carver, and Berens entered the scene, his first episode (”Heaven Can’t Wait”) is one of my favorites, with human Cas and the fanfiction gap and Dean and Cas just generally being awkward and funny and sweet.  This is Bobo’s FIRST episode, remember that.  He comes right out of the gate with it.

Also in Season 9, this is when Dean takes the Mark of Cain, and the Cas/Colette mirror is born, so obviously, Dean and Cas are the fabric of the season once again.  This is also the season where Metatron says Cas is “in love with humanity,” and then immediately refers to Dean as Humanity so uhhhh yeah.

Onto season 10, Dabb and Berens continue with their greatness (I could write pages on the DeanCas date in “The Things We Left Behind” alone).  And then we have one of the best scenes in the entire show in “The Prisoner” where the Cas/Colette mirror continues and Dean, driven by grief and pain and rage and the Mark, still doesn’t kill Cas.  He still can’t kill Cas.

Season 11 is important because it takes choice away from both Cas and Dean, and shows us, as the audience, how much losing each other takes out of them. We saw in season 10 how much losing Dean takes from Cas, but what about Cas losing Dean?  Dean loses his choice with his connection to Amara this season, and loses even more when Lucifer reveals he’s been possessing Cas, and plays on Dean’s connection to Cas like a mockery.  It’s also worth noting that, similarly to season 8, Dean breaks out of the connection with Amara when he’s worried about Cas, and that’s something that even SHE is surprised by.

But then season 12, the beginning to the Renaissance.  This is when we get the writer’s that become important for what Dean and Cas are today, and, truly, why I believe they want canon Destiel as much as we do.

This is the first season with Dabb’s writers: Davy Perez, Meredith Glynn, Steve Yockey, and of course Bobo all come in with their incredible talents and gave us episode after episode of good content.  “Lily Sunder Has Some Regrets” is probably my favorite, probably the best example of what I’m saying.  An episode where Dean is called out by an enemy directly, told to “roll the dice” on Cas’ life.  And Dean won’t, it’s not even really a hesitation.  And this comes from a character that has known Dean for ten seconds.  I also wrote more in depth about this episode here.  There are also some.....distinctly domestic details we get this season, specifically in “The Future” (written by Berens and Glynn) with the mixtape.  The most tropey of tropes mixtape.  Yeah, I’ll just leave that one here.

And then season 12 ends with Cas’ death, but also with the parallel between Sam and Dean with Jess and Cas.  Sam literally has to drag Dean away from Cas, just like Dean had to drag Sam out of his burning apartment in the pilot.  The episode drives it home in every way that it can: Dean is the one left kneeling by Cas’ body, while Sam goes to find out what is upstairs.  Dean is the one who stares at the sky, finally broken.  This isn’t a random thing, this is Dean’s whole arc, it’s the entirety of the beginning of 13.  Dean’s pain, his anguish, his anger.

Season 13 starts with them burning Cas, with Dean, who has begged God to bring him back, who has split his knuckles punching a door, standing, staring at Cas’ pyre with brokenness on his face.

I mean.....

Anyway, season 13 is where it gets interesting (well, I think all of this is interesting but I’m a writer nerd so).  So Cas comes back from the Empty in “Advanced Thanatology” written by Steve Yockey, and then a wombo combo of “Tombstone” by Davy Perez next (”Brokebacknatural” as the PR said at the time).  Listen.  This is the part that SPN crossed a line that they couldn’t come back from.  With Cas being Dean’s “big win,” the fact that Dean and Cas watch movies together, “I told you, he’s an angry sleeper.  Like a bear.” Talked about it here.

This is where, in my opinion, the network stepped in, but the damage was already done.  They had already established that Cas was Dean’s big win, that Dean’s poor coping was not due to Mary’s disappearance, but solely due to Cas, and that Dean and Cas have more married energy than anyone else.  The network had nixed blatant canon at this point, and they writing room had been pushing the boundaries of what the network would allow. 

After these episodes, we see a marked drop off of DeanCas heavy scenes.  They’re still there, still a part of the fabric of the season, but not as...obvious as it had been in early season 13.

And this continued through season 14, we’re back to scraps of Destiel scenes here and there, but to me it always felt like there was something bubbling under the surface, something distinctly unsaid in the themes of the season, even after the walk back of obvious “Dean and Cas are in love” scenes.

And then we get to season 15, which, y’all know I talk about all the time.  What’s important here is that Bobo and Glynn are both executive producers, calling more of the shots than ever before.  Additionally, it’s important to note that, though they only co write occasionally, Glynn and Berens refer to each other as “work husband” and “work wife.”  Each episode has just turned up the volume, and, not for the first time, but certainly the most obvious, Dean and Cas ARE the season.  Sure, they’re trying to beat God, they’re trying to finally find peace, defeat the final big bad, but really?  This season has been about Dean, and Dean’s relationship to Cas.

And not only do we have obvious and clear Destiel in nearly every episode, but we have episodes like “Last Call” which canonize bi!Dean (wrote about that here).

And, maybe most importantly so far, we have “The Rupture,” the breakup, and “The Trap,” Dean’s confession (both written by Berens).  And here’s the thing.  These episodes feel connected, but also feel like they’re missing something.  Beren’s last episode is 15x18, “The Truth.”  We’ve all spec’ed about what could happen in this episode, and I think *I* know what it’s leading to.  But for it to be leading to that, it means that the network has to have approved what we’ve all been waiting for years for.

Who got this change to happen?  Who got the network to change their minds?  It wasn’t us.  It was them.  I am fully convinced that Dabb and Berens quite literally put their careers on the line for Dean and Cas.  They believe in them, they’ve shown that from the beginning, but the only thing standing in the way was the network, never allowing them to take the final step. 

So, to answer your question: I think the writers want canon DeanCas because they’ve already shown us that they do.  Take a look at their episodes, at Dabb’s, at Beren’s, at Glynn’s, at Perez’s, at Yockey’s.  They’ve been telling us what’s going on with Dean and Cas for years.

Sure, I’m not in their heads, I guess I don’t know for *sure* that this has been their thought process, but if we put it all together, from the marked shift when Dabb fully took over in s12, to the change right after “Tombstone,” to the new shift, the blatantly romantic shift in season 15, what else is there?

I’ve said for a long time that we, the SPN fandom, are beyond lucky to have the writer’s that we do.  They’re all going to go on to have prolific careers and we were lucky to get them at the end of our little show.  I give them a lot of credit for what we have in the show today.

Just remember, they’ve been telling us in all of s15 who Chuck is.  He says he’s the writer, right?  But a writer who doesn’t have control of his characters?  A writer who wants to do the same ending over and over because it “works”?  That doesn’t sound like a writer, it sounds like a network exec.

They’ve been showing us what they want for years, and the way s15 is going?  I think they may have convinced the network to let us have it.

[fanficsandfluff]

Tickles of Color Entry 2021

Heeeere we are! I hope you enjoy @twordficsnooneaskedfor !!! I really don't know the character of Ahsoka (never watched Clone Wars) but I tried my best! Thank you to @ticklesofcolor (@tickle-bugs and @peachytickles respectively) for hosting this super awesome event!

Fandom: Star Wars, The Mandalorian

Characters: The Mandalorian (Din Djarin), Ahsoka Tano, Grogu (The Child)

Words: 1,551

Ahsoka spent time with the youngling, listening. She did much listening, she realized, as the poor child could not communicate with anyone else, nor had he actually been able to speak in quite a long while. He was releasing and explaining. He spoke of the horrors, the not-so horrors. It was all feelings inside him, and then the Mandalorian would come into the picture. Grogu perked up.

“He’s made you happy,” Ahsoka smiled softly as the youngling nodded, cooing in agreement.

She listened some more and then cocked her head at something he said, “You want to make him happy?”

Grogu again nodded his little head, ears flopping.

Ahsoka placed two of her fingers on top of Grogu’s small hand, smiling at him, “I’m sure you’ve already made him happy, little one.”

The child’s head bowed, gurgling something like disappointment. He wasn’t enough. He was a burden… well, the Mandolorian has willingly protected him for this long… maybe less of a burden than he thought.

“Let’s meet with the Mandalorian for food. We’ll discuss options later,” and Ahsoka picked the child up and made her way back to the ship where said topic of conversation was cooking for them. It was a meager meal of hunted creatures, and they sat around a small burning fire.

The Mandalorian picked piece by piece of meat off the bone for the youngling. It turned out the child was eating the meat faster than the Mandalorian could tear it.

“Hungry, are we?” the tinny voice filtered through the helmet. Grogu made a noise of contentment. The next chunk given to the child was eaten at a purposely humorous fast pace, and both of them knew exactly what was going on.

“You’re very funny,” a gloved finger brushed under the child’s chin and the child giggled.

Ahsoka looked on, eating her own small cooked animal, crunching on the singed skin. She smiled when she heard the Mandalorian chuckle. He has already proven worthy of the child’s love and attention based on the way he helped him channel the Force during training.

The Jedi set her meal down and brushed off her hands, staring at the Mandalorian. Focusing, Ahsoka poised the fingers of one hand inconspicuously, aiming, and… The Mandalorian’s hand chased away an invisible bug on his neck, eyes searching for the culprit. Ahsoka bit the inside of her cheek… she can work with this.

“What do you need me to do?” Din asked the next morning, standing in the clearing in the woods with Ahsoka and Grogu.

“Your participation will be crucial for today’s training,” Ahsoka reassured, holding back a smile.

Ahsoka knelt down next to Grogu, who was placed onto a large rock. She whispered something into his ear. Grogu exclaimed in what to Din seemed like joy. Maybe he already knew whatever it was Ahsoka was telling him to do?

“Mando,” Ahsoka spoke louder now, “I’m going to demonstrate to him first.”

“Okay,” Din said, standing still. He didn’t know what was supposed to happen, but he waited.

Ahsoka pointed her hand towards him and he felt a crawling up his sides and back. He jerked, surprised, bewildered… all-around confused.

“You okay?” Ahsoka asked with a very visible smile on her face now.

“Y-Yeah.. Was it--? Is it supposed to feel so…” Din didn’t know how to describe what he felt so he wiggled his fingers in the air, “Scratchy?”

Ahsoka huffed a small laugh and Grogu made a noise, as well.

“Well, yes. But it’s very important you stay still.”

“Okay. Can you tell me what it is you’re teaching him?”

Ahsoka looked to the child to get his approval of what to say. Answer honestly? Grogu said no.

“It’s a Force touch. Like he’s feeling out into the world without having to move.”

Din nodded, “Alright. Just be more… careful, I guess.”

“Show one more time? Very well,” Ahsoka made up that part of conversation with the youngling as she once again poised her hand and made sparks fly all around the Mandalorian’s shielded sides and ribs. It encompassed him, feeling like they weren’t really touching him at first. It was like a breeze being blown all over his torso. But then the feeling zeroed in and Din barked out an obvious laugh. He hunched over, elbows pressing into his sides.

“W-Wahahait!”

Ahsoka was shaking her head, “If you cannot handle what I am demonstrating, I’m sure you’ll do much better with Grogu.”

“It feeheels so strange,” Din regained himself, clearing his throat after standing straight.

“That may happen from time to time,” Ahsoka smiled but her mind was on a slightly different track now, “What was it?”

“I don’t know. Like a buzzing. Not so much like touch, though.”

“I see,” Ahsoka raised her hand again, “It feels like this?” and Din was once again squirming, but this time trying to hold back his laughter at the feeling on his belly now.

“Yehes!” he croaked.

“It seems like it’s tickling you,” Ahsoka said what she was doing this whole time, stopping the sensations again.

“Tickling? No, isn’t that… that’s what babies feel.”

So, he really didn’t know. Her thought was correct.

“Grogu,” she knelt again by the child, “Would you like to try?”

The child shut his eyes like he usually did when he had to concentrate on the Force. He did that first to get the feeling in his bones and then opened them to aim it at the Mandalorian. Din stood still, fighting the very soft feelings. He didn’t move, didn’t laugh. Thank goodness for the helmet because they couldn’t see him smiling and biting on his lip.

“Kihihid!” he burst out laughing when there felt like a sharp, focused jab to his hips. Grogu giggled.

The Mandalorian couldn’t stay still. He could try and suppress the laughter, but he just couldn’t not squirm. He looked honestly very silly, squirming about, taking little hops and steps here and there. Ahsoka even snickered.

“You’re moving, Mando,” Ahsoka teased.

Grogu was enamored by the display. He’d never really heard the Mandalorian laugh before. He’d chuckle from time to time. But this was different. This was wilder.

“Y-You’re doing this on p-puhurpose!” Mando accused, arms secured to his middle.

Ahsoka started walking closer to the Mandalorian, “Grogu wanted to make you happy. This was our solution.”

Din’s heart warmed at hearing that. The kid only wanted to make sure he was happy. I guess it was hard to gauge under the helmet and all. He couldn’t always tell if he was smiling. But that warm heart was quickly frozen over once more when there were pinch-like motions on his lower ribs. This time those were real touches. From Ahsoka.

“Hahang on! I didn’t say you could actually do that,” he started backing away from the Jedi.

“Oh, my apologies. Grogu may continue,” Ahsoka smirked. Maybe Din should’ve just shut up.

Grogu giggled and tried again. He could really only get forceful pokes and jabs out with his Force; that or it was a spread-out attack. Both were devastating to Din.

The Mandalorian made the movements to walk over to Grogu on his rock to get him to stop. But he was taken down to his knees with laughter and weakness to tickling only halfway there.

Din hadn’t felt anything like this before. Maybe distantly, in a memory and a world he seldom remembered. He knows the touch of a small bug walking over his fingers, the feeling of water rushing against his bare skin when he bathes. He even could recognize a playful shove or pat on the shoulder or back.

The proud Mandalorian was now flat on his back, too tired to protest or fight back. He could only laugh. Grogu found a way to change directions so he moved the Force touch downward and Din squeaked, turning over onto his side, curling up.

“Stohohop! Kid, please! Hahahaha!” Din begged, the touch fluttering down his thighs to the backs of his knees. He was giggling now. Grogu was most definitely mocking him with his own giggles.

“I think that’s enough, Grogu,” Ahsoka finally stepped in. Who knows how long the kid would’ve continued if she didn’t stop him?

“Y-You’re just as bad as him,” Din coughed out, sitting up in the dirt.

Din would’ve loved to take off his helmet and breathe fresh air, to gulp it into his lungs, now sore from laughter. He felt another touch at his knee and he almost swatted it away before he realized it was Grogu’s hand. The kid had waddled his way over to him. Checking on him, it seemed, by the look on the kid’s face. Din picked him up and sat him in his lap.

“I’m okay, kid.”

Grogu tilted his head, reaching up to touch the helmet.

“I’m happy, too. You got what you wanted,” Din poked a finger into the kid’s belly and made him giggle, “How do you like it?” he chortled.

Grogu leaned into Mando after cooing a little to the pokes, shutting his eyes. Mission accomplished. His masked protector was happy and it was because of him. That felt good.

Din shifted so he was looking at Ahsoka. She was looking right back, a soft smile gracing her features. And he smiled. Definitely happy.

[eulaliasims]

Check In Tag

Thanks for the tag, @pixeldolly!

Why did you choose your url?

Eulalia means ‘sweetly speaking’ or ‘well spoken’, and when I was picking my latest internet pseudonym (b/c I’m a 90s baby and grew up hearing to NEVER use your real name on the internet or you will DIE) I went for something aspirational. I’m better at writing than talking, haha. The ‘sims’ part is probably obvious.

How long have you been on tumblr?

Uhhhhh... ball pit era (2014).

Do you have a queue tag?

Naw, my queue is only set to six posts a day at the moment. I feel like I should have a tag for not queued posts, since that’s when I randomly dump a bunch of decorating pictures onto people’s dash and run away.

Why did you start your blog in the first place?

Originally I made the account to follow simmers after the TS2 community on Livejournal died down; I lurked for a bit, then finally decided to share a few of my own pictures. It’s nice to be able to document my game like this and share it with other simmers.

Why did you choose your icon/pfp?

It’s a Picrew of myself, lol. (This one, by Poika.) I did icons with my sims for a while, but this Picrew was going around and I liked it. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Why did you choose your header?

It’s Middleground, my main neighborhood, and it’s pretty. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

What’s your post with the most notes?

Mmmm, it’s either going to be the natural history museum or a piece of CC--lemme check--oh wait, no, it’s the hobby lot makeover tutorial! I forgot about that. And then this shitpost, which still makes me laugh.

How many mutuals do you have?

I have no idea! Some? Y’all are definitely in the double digits, I know that much.

How many followers do you have?

I don’t know, and I don’t want to know, tbh. It’s better for the obsessive part of my brain that latches onto things like that if I keep it hidden with xKit most of the time. >_>

How many people do you follow?

345. Mostly simblrs (and a couple Mass Effect/Dragon age blogs), and I know that there’s some inactive blogs in there.

Have you ever made a shitpost?

Once or twice. More often I draft them and then just delete them instead.

How often do you use tumblr each day?

If something else has my attention, zero times, otherwise I'll steal @pixeldolly‘s answer and say often enough.

Did you have a fight/argument with another blog once? who won?

lol, no. I am one of those people who prefers to merely observe fandom drama from a safe distance--in the case of simblr drama, it usually bypasses me entirely. If it’s not on my dash, I am not aware of it.

How do you feel about ‘you need to reblog this’ posts?

I don’t do that.

Do you like tag games?

They’re fun. Though sometimes I skip them depending on my brain spoons/whether I remember in a timely manner that someone tagged me. I’m also terrible at tagging other people. I try to only tag people who do them, and then sometimes the game’s already made the rounds by the time I end up doing it anyway!

Do you like ask games?

^^^^ See above! I usually only reblog sims-related ones, since, well, it’s a simblr.

Which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

Is this a thing? Idk, when I think of Tumblr fame, I think of drama and, like, the person who apparently went grave robbing for bones, so I’m gonna say thankfully none of them.

Do you have a crush on a mutual?

I certainly have a crush on some of their games, haha!

[herherteartear]

will you be gone? | bonus : eighteen point five / brunch w Taehyung 

 — word count : 1491

 — a/n : my first ever written chapter!! how’d you like it? anything I could've done better? hope you enjoyed!

Your hands couldn’t stop shaking. Sure, you tried to play it off cool in front of your friends, but you were pissing your pants in nerves. The thought of meeting Taehyung after so long was terrifying. Your son, Myung-dae, seemed to notice the trouble you were having with the buttons on his sweater. His doe eyes blinked up at you.

“Do you need help, momma?” He asked. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You raised your hand to caress his cheek.

“No, baby, I’m okay.” You smiled. Finally getting a grip of yourself, you finished buttoning the three buttons on his sweater. You grinned proudly at your work (both your son and his outfit). Myung-dae ran off the second you were done. He threw himself onto the ground of your living room where his legos were scattered. You turned to glance at yourself in the mirror hung up.

You’ve changed a lot since Taehyung left. It was hard to adjust to abruptly becoming a single mother. It was hard to push away the fact that you had also become an ex-girlfriend too. Your broken heart and your anger was pushed to the side in order to focus on Myungie and to provide for him. At some point, it became too much. Your family and Jungkook stepped in to help. That became a turning point.

You were able to focus on yourself a little more without worrying about Myungie and his needs. Then you were finally able to feel the pain, the hurt, the anger. For a second, you really did hate Taehyung. How could he have left you with your son? How could he have left you? Thankfully, time truly does heal all wounds. As time went on, you found yourself thinking about him less, hating him less, and being happier with the little life you created for Myungie and yourself. You’d be lying if you said meeting Jimin and Seokjin didn’t help. They really helped. Seokjin helped.

Staring at the woman in front of you, you smiled.

“Does he still look the same?” “Does he have a matching mark on his arm, too?” “Will he carry me on his shoulders?” Myungie was full of questions the whole ride to the restaurant. You and Taehyung agreed to meet there in order to help Myungie feel more comfortable. With the car parked, you turned in your seat to face your son. His big, chocolate eyes never failed to warm your heart.

“You remember that?” Myungie had been so little when Taehyung left. You weren’t expecting him to remember anything about his dad, so the fact that he remembers the times his father would perch him on his broad shoulders, surprised you. Myungie played with his fingers.

“No, but I found a picture in your old room.” He mumbled. You bit your lip. After Taehyung left, you moved out of the room you two shared and into the guest room. You knew exactly which picture he was talking about.

“He does have the same two marks as you on his arm. Maybe you can ask him about it.” You said softly. You sent Taehyung a quick text to notify him of your arrival before getting yourself and Myungie out. You gripped your son’s hand in yours as you shut the car door.

“Daddy!” Myungie shouted. He let go of your hand to barrel into Taehyung’s arms. You spun around in shock to see an equally surprised Taehyung clutching your guys’ kid to his chest. Neither of you could stop the smile that spread over your faces.

“Hey, Myungie.” Taehyung mumbled into his son’s neck. He made eye contact with you. Both of you shared a small smile.

“So why’d you leave? Why come back now?” You cut right to the chase. After sitting down and ordering your food, Myung-dae had finally gotten over the high of seeing his dad. He now sat on Taehyung’s lap, fully immersed in your phone. Taehyung slightly choked on his sip of water. Myungie gave his dad a worried look before saying,

“Don’t choke.” You stifled your laughter at your son’s bluntness.

“Thanks, bud. Um, wow, getting right to it, huh?” He forced out a chuckle. You shrugged.

“I’ve waited long enough, haven’t I?” Your eyes suddenly seemed very interested by the table you were sat at. Taehyung reached over to grab your hand.

“You have.” He said in his deep voice that once made you go wild. Now, not so much. You pulled your hand out of his grasp. Taehyung cleared his throat before beginning his story. “I never told you this, but when we found out you were pregnant, I was planning on proposing. I decided not to because I didn’t want to add any more pressure on you; I figured I’d just do it after he was born.” Taehyung gently held one of Myungie’s hands. He was going to propose? You felt the air being knocked out of you. “Except, once Myungie was born, everything changed. I realized all the plans we had, we wouldn’t be able to do them anymore.”

“What? What are you talking about? Myungie could’ve come with us! Wouldn’t that have made it that much more special?” You cut in, now getting irritated. You couldn’t believe Taehyung had even felt that way. The moment Myung-Dae was born, your life got so much brighter.

“Yes, of course! But, yn, I was so dumb back then. I was dumb and selfish. I wasn’t ready to be a dad.” He sighed. Before you could even open your mouth, he said, “And I know you weren’t ready to be a mom. But you adapted better than I did. None of it felt right to me, the whole being a parent. I hated myself for feeling that way, but I couldn’t help it, y’know? Anyways, I guess my peabrain came up with leaving as a solution and, well, I did.”

Your eyes maintained on the table. The wood was slowly chipping off of the edges, but the middle still looked in wonderful shape. A part of you had known Taehyung left because he wasn’t ready so you’re not surprised. You wished he would have talked to you about it, though. You sighed. The past was in the past now. Everything happens for a reason, unfortunately.

“I know what I did was wrong. I know I should’ve come back the second I left, but I didn’t. I can’t apologize enough. But you need to know I am truly, deeply, sorry. Yn, I’ve grown from who I was. I’m here now to fix my mistake and to raise our son. Together.” Taehyung held your gaze. If there was something that never changed about Taehyung, it would be his sincerity.

“It’s been such a long time, Tae. I wish I could be angry and yell at you for leaving us, but I can’t. I know you. I know you want to fix this and I would love to raise our son together.” You felt a weight lifted from your chest. You had been living for years with baggage, that clearing this up with Taehyung, made you feel physically lighter. You cleared your throat and sat a little straighter. “But what we had, that’s gone now. I’m doing this for Myungie, not to get my ex-boyfriend back.” Taehyung didn’t lose his composure. His lips turned into a teasing smile.

“So who’s the guy?” He joked. You knew it was a joke. Taehyung was always like this, but there was a guy.

“Why does there have to be a guy in order for me not to want you back?” You squint your eyes at him. This only seemed to further his fun, as a deep chuckle rumbled from his chest. You shifted.

“I was kidding, but judging by your reaction, there’s definitely a guy.” He smiled lightheartedly. You ran your eyes over his face. “Why are you analyzing me?”

“Because of the way you’ve been texting me! I thought you wanted to date again or something.” You grumbled. Had you misunderstood all his texts? There was no way! They were totally flirty!

“Y’know, when I talked to my parents about being ready, they were so excited to hear we were going to work it out. Be a family.” Taehyung laughed breathlessly. “I know I was being pushy. I just— I had to, for my parents. But I won’t force you into anything. That’d be a dick move and I would never do that.” Taehyung reassured you. You smiled. Once again, his sincerity was always unwavering.

“Daddy! Look, momma said you had these marks too!” Myungie pinched his arm fat together to make an elephant out of the two moles on his arm. Taehyung’s face burst into a boxy grin. You glanced down at your phone to see a text from Jin. Your heart skipped a beat against your will. You’d handle one issue at a time.

ceo!seokjin x singlemom!reader

masterlist

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