#Kid Blink is trans he told me himself

[races-stupid-cigar]

Kid Blink is the kinda guy to extremely over compensate when it comes to his bisexuality going over board on his love of women thinking that if he forgets he likes men too he will be able to forget he can't even get being a man right in the first place that maybe if he tries to pretend to be a straight guy he will at least get the guy part down because that's better than his insecurities telling him hes just a confused girl

But there's Mush with his goofy grin and moral compass head and how much he truly cares for Blink through all his ups and downs Mush want to be there with him all of him he just can't ignore that no matter how much he wants to so yeah with the other guys it's all about dames and lady's but at the end of the day Mush is his one and only

[stuffedwalrus]

Little damian and duke bonding thing

TW: Internalized transphobia

“I..” Damian hesitates, something that makes Duke's mouth snap shut with an audible click. “I am not who you believe me to be. I..have deceived you all.” 

“What?” Duke breathes out, intending to stop at that one word. He didn’t, however, instead continuing with a slight tilt of his head. “You get a new cat? A new secret identity? Wait, no, don’t tell me! You’re a clone.”

Damian, much to Duke's relief, rolls his eyes so hard it looks like it’d hurt on anyone else and scoffs at him. “Don’t be ridiculous, Thomas. This is serious.”

“Right, yeah, sorry. Keep going.”

“Tt” Damian sends another quick glance towards the exit, most likely assuring that no one was around to hear what he clearly needed to say and, frankly, it’s highly unlikely anyone would be. Damian had found him in a corner of the mansion not even Alfred frequented more than a handful of times throughout the months. A quiet, secluded, area towards the back of the manor with tall windows that overlooked the backyard and all the eerie land around the manor. The doors, made of large solid slabs of mahogany and forged years before even Bruce was a thought help in keeping the room hauntingly silent, allowing it to go relatively unnoticed. 

Duke is starting to think that finding his shoes in here was a lot more deliberate than before, as Damians eyes slowly did another sweep across the sitting room.  

“Hey, I really am sorry…about making it silly. Whatever this is seems important to you and I—”

“Shut up, Thomas. You're making me regret this.”

“Right, right. Carry on.”

Damian takes one more glance around the room before leaning his upper body closer towards Duke, a grave expression on his face. 

“I am…not a boy.”

“Oh.” Duke pauses, whole body going still while he processes the new information. “You’re…not a boy?”

“No.” Da-they mutter, looking away. Duke hums, shifting his body weight from where it had settled at the tips of his fingers. He wills a few shadows away, the one he naturally creates when he gets the urge to hide, and looks to his…younger sibling with something he hopes looks like empathy. 

“Okay, not a boy. Cool, that’s cool. I’m not, either.”

“What.” Dami(?) says flatly, looking at Duke with a mix of emotions that he cannot pinpoint. He thinks he sees contempt somewhere in there, though. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I-” Duke cuts himself off, looking back and forth between D and the door. “I mean I’m not a boy either. I haven’t really told anyone in the family, kinda wanted to feel stuff out first, y'know but. Yeah.” He finishes lamely. It’s clear D is not impressed if the look on her(?) face is anything to go by. They don't say anything immediately, which causes a swirl of emotions to fill Duke's chest but finally, after a few tense minutes, D speaks. 

“I refuse to sit here and be mocked by you, you insolent-”

“Whoa, whoa. Who’s mocking you?” Duke asks, genuine confusion flooding his brain. He thinks back on his words, wondering what it is that possibly could’ve been misconstrued. “I’m not mocking you?”

“Then what are you doing?” D hisses, shoulder tight with something a little too closed in to be anger. 

“I’m…trying to relate?” He says like a question which makes D curl up tighter. “I just- I’m not a boy. You said you weren’t and I…thought it’d make you feel better if you knew I wasn’t fully one either?”

“You were born a girl too?”

“I-what.” Duke blinks, eyes widening as he looks to D with scrunched up brows. “No? I was assigned male at birth…were you not?”

Suddenly D…Damians(?) face heats up as he(?) averts his eyes from Duke. It’s the first time he’s ever seen Damian do that and it’s kind of freaking him out. “Did I not just tell you such?”

“I..I thought…wait so are you trans or not?”

“What’s trans?”

Duke blinks at the kid. Once. Twice. Realizes they’re fully serious. He suddenly rises from his seat, feeling the need to pace around while he tries to process what it is exactly that he’s missing. 

“Okay…okay. You said you aren’t a boy-”

“Correct.” Damian murmurs, looking to Duke with open weariness and a little bit of annoyance.

“That you were assigned female at birth-”

“Yes, Thomas we’ve established.”

“But…we all know you as a boy.”

Damian physically curls up on himself now, bringing his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. He rests his head on his knees but doesn’t look anywhere near Duke.

 “I…I was told to, by mother, when I first got here.” He explains but not really because that is, in no way, shape or form, an acceptable explanation. Luckily he continues. “I was told it’d be better to tell father I was a boy, in case there may be any issues with me being heir due to my gender. After I cut off all connections to mother and the league I...remained a boy. I feared revealing such information may cause my path to redemption to suffer…”

“But?” Duke prods, gently, brain making connections seconds ago but needing the words straight from Damian himself.

“But..” Damian does finally look at him now, though it's brief and filled with something so so heartbreaking before it’s immediately covered up by that classic Wayne Family Wall Building. “But…I…had grown quite comfortable portraying myself as male. It was…nice. I had never given much thought to who I was before I came here but…if I had had a choice…I believe I would have chosen to be a male from the very beginning.”

He shoots another glance at Duke, immediately averting his eyes down to the bright green fuzzy socks he adorned. “Though I am aware that is a foolish desire. I am a girl…I cannot escape that.”

Duke thinks he hears Damian mutter a small “no matter how hard I try” under his breath but doesn't think too hard about it because he's far too busy taking in a big breath. Letting it out. Doing it another time for good luck and sanity. 

“Okay…can I tell you what I thought was going on?”

Damian raises a brow but gestures at him to continue. 

“I thought…that when you told me that…I was gonna have a new sister or something.”

“I am not new. I was always your sister.”

“You’ve never been my sister, Dami. I thought you were trans but, like, the other way at first. “

“ I..still don’t know what that means.” Damian mutters, still clearly upset by his lack of knowledge about something. Anything, really. 

“It's..it's you, I guess. It's when someone is born as one gender but realizes they're actually another gender. Or no gender, that works too. Or both genders. Or, really anything. Like, all the genders but not all the time? I'm that, I think? Look-” He cuts himself off, finally sitting back down on the couch next to Damian. “If you were technically born a girl but you're a lot more comfortable and happier being a boy then…well no one's gonna tell you to go back to being a girl.”

Damian looks at him suspiciously, eyebrow raised to the high heavens. 

“You're pulling my leg.”

“I'm not. I wouldn't. Not about this.” Duke reassured, placing a hand in the space between him and Damian. It doesn't quite reach the other boy but it's there if he wants it. Needs it. 

“You are.” Damian insists, sitting up straighter and shooting a disapproving look at the hand. “Grandfather would never allow such a…a delusional existence.” 

“It's not delusional. It's real and it's completely valid and…and super cool and…shit I am not made for these speeches.” 

“I'll say,” Damian snorts, hands crossing over his chest.

“What I'm saying is you don't have to be a girl if you don't want to. If you want to keep being a boy then be a boy. We'll all accept you, dude. It's all good.”  

Damian doesn't say anything, instead sitting almost completely still and silent for a good five minutes. Duke was about to shake him before his head suddenly snapped up, looking towards Duke's direction. 

“I want to be a boy. If I am truly allowed to choose…I choose this. I choose to be Damian.”

“Cool.” Duke nods, smiling. “That's cool, dude. Glad you're learning new things about yourself.”

“Yes. It is...good. And you're sure father will not be upset?” 

“Nah. When Tim came out as bi Bruce went on a whole deep dive learning all about the community and making sure he was super inclusive. If anything he might be too supportive.” 

Damian snorts and Duke silently pats himself on the back for this big bro moment of his.

“Though, quick question.” Duke says, mind raking through every bit extra thought in his mind.  “Why...did you tell me? Before anyone else? Before Bruce or Dick?” 

“Well…” Damian hesitates. He's been doing that a lot these past few minutes. It should freak Duke out but right now his brain is fried and stuck in protective older brother mode. Every hesitance is just an added weight to his already cracking heart. “You're the most accepting of strange situations and people and I assumed you'd be the most…okay with my lies. Nor would you use it as blackmail against father or Grayson. You're good, Thomas. I….I needed good.”

“None of the others would do that to you.” Thomas says first, placing a hand on Damians shoulder. “They're jerks sometimes but they're not monsters. They're yo-our siblings. They'd let you come out on your own time.” 

Damian doesn't say anything and Duke doesn't make him. They sit in silence for a few minutes before Damian's body slowly starts to tilt to the side. He lands, gently, onto Duke's shoulders, his head resting perfectly on top. 

“I'll have to let them know eventually. They'll want to let the public know and I'll need a good cover story to hide why they were unaware of the truth.” 

“You don't have to do anything you don't want to do. For however long you don't want to do it. This is your thing, not theirs. You can tell them and we'll never tell the press or Gotham and you'll go on just like how you are. All your shit says male, anyway. Not like we'd have to change anything there.” 

“I guess.” 

“And medically everything can be covered. Bruce can make, like, a thousand NDA’s. You might get some pills or some shots or some other stuff. Nothing crazy. Nothing anyone will look down on you for.” 

Damian hums, mouth pressed shut. 

“And, hey,” he nudges Damian to look up at him, making sure their eyes meet. “I'll be right there with you if you want. No matter what anyone says or how anyone reacts, I'll always be in your corner, okay? Always.” 

“I—” he cuts himself off with a quick yank of his head and a hidden sniff. “Thank you, Th—...Duke. Thank you, Duke. I appreciate it.” 

“Anytime, Dami. Anytime.”

[chaoslynx]

@whiskeysmultimuse: AU where Griff's okay and is there to throw Ash a nice birthday party. I love the brothers so much. ;-;

Griffin claps his hands together. This is his first chance to celebrate Ash's birthday since he left for the military, and he's not going to let it pass him by.

"All right, boys," he calls to Ash's gang. He knows that Bones and a couple of the other trans guys like when Griff calls them that. "What do we have planned for Ash's birthday?"

They all blink at him as silence envelops the room.

Griff frowns. "You don't have anything planned?" he asks, shocked.

"None of us know when his birthday is," Kong admits quietly.

Eiji offers an apologetic smile. "He hasn't even told me," he adds.

Griffin groans. Of fucking course. God, that little brother of his probably didn't think anyone would even care. "Have you all asked?"

"Boss don't like questions like that," Alex mumbles. "He don't react too well to personal shit."

Sighing, Griff rolls his eyes. For a gang of street kids, they really don't have any confidence. "Well, I'll break the suspense, then. Ash's birthday is August 12th."

"Are you sure we should—?" Bones squeaks. "Won't Boss be mad?"

But Eiji grins, and Griff knows he has an ally in this. "Griffin is right!" Eiji announces. "We should do something for him. Even something small. We all care about Ash here, right? Why wouldn't we want to show him that?"

There are some murmurs of agreement from the boys. Griff nods in approval. They can make this happen.

"We've only got a few days to plan, so let's hop to it!"

— — —

Ash is fucking tired. 

Griffin recovering from banana fish was unexpected, and—as much as Ash wanted to just live the life he could have had with his brother—he still had other shit to take care of.

But Griff was surprisingly adaptive to all of the, uh, everything. To what Ash's life had become. And he quickly integrated into Ash's gang, taking on a position as something of a role model to some of the guys.

But anyway, Ash still has to keep everyone safe, not to mention taking down Dino and the mess with the government and banana fish. He can't let what happened to Griffin keep happening to other people.

He pulls out his burner phone on the way back to the condo, glancing at the time. It's late—or, rather, early in the morning. Ash has been out all night.

The date catches his attention too, and it takes him a second to remember why it's anything noteworthy.

August 12th ...

Oh. Not noteworthy. Just Ash's birthday.

He sighs, slipping the phone back into his pocket.

He's eighteen now ...

He honestly never thought he'd make it to adulthood. Not that he's ever really been a kid, but—

Shaking those thoughts off, Ash slips into the condo building and heads up to the flat.

He's so fucking tired.

He's not expecting anyone else to be awake when he opens the door, so he's definitely not expecting what does happen.

"Happy birthday!" a dozen voices call.

Ash is so shocked that he reaches for his gun out of habit, freezing part way.

... What?

He kicks the door shut behind him, too stunned to do much else.

"I, uh—" he starts. Then he narrows his eyes, looking at Griffin. "You," he hisses.

Griffin rubs at the back of his head, grinning. "Yeah," he admits. "Me. Come on, Aslan, I can't believe you didn't tell the boys your birthday."

"We've got other shit to worry about!" Ash starts. "We can't afford the time or effort to ..." He trails off, looking around the living room.

They decorated.

There are streamers and balloons everywhere, and Ash finds himself flushing.

"Come on, Ash," Eiji says. "It's your birthday. We just want to celebrate with you."

Despite himself, Ash starts to soften. He knows he can't really win—not against both Eiji and Griff when they unite. 

He looks down, embarrassed suddenly that they did this all for him.

"Fine," he mumbles. "Thank you. We can—we'll ... celebrate. For a little. But I expect everyone to be back on track tomorrow, understood?"

There's the usual chorus of "Yes, Boss," but it's interspersed with a laughter that makes it less than convincing.

Sighing, Ash looks around the room again. He can't really be upset with Eiji and Griffin undermining his authority.

Not when it makes him so happy.

Send me prompts!

[kariachi]

2 am fic! Oh look, Reboot!Kev pre-show! Featuring Kev being trans and his dad being... better than he could have been.

Warnings for shit parenting, transphobia, homophobia, misgendering, that sorta jazz. Kevin's dad's an asshole, people are assholes, Kevin deserves better.

~~

“Eden’s been insisting on being called ‘Kevin’ for the past few weeks now.”

“Okay, and?”

“She’s been ignoring teachers when her name is called.”

“Does she answer to Kevin?”

“Yes-”

“Then there you go, problem solved.”

“She’s also been getting into fights with other children for using her name and treating her as a girl.”

“They’re gonna wanna stop doing that then.”

“Mr Levin, I don’t think you understand-”

“I understand you’ve got so much free time rather than just calling my brat by a new name you gotta drag me out of work for a whole-ass meeting. Gotta whine to me about my kid being mean instead of telling these other parents theirs are fucking morons picking fights.”

“Eden-”

“You said yourself, kid’s made it clear how he’s gonna be called, this point it’s on those other brats for pushing their luck.”

“Mr Levin, we can’t allow any student to just run roughshod over the rest of the school.”

“Well I don’t know what to tell you then, ‘cause I’m not telling my kid to kiss your ass just ‘cause you fuckers are too lazy to do your damn jobs. Now, if you don’t mind, some of us have shit to do.”

“Alright then. You should know Eden is suspended for the five days.”

“…” “…Kevin is suspended for the next five days. She won’t be allowed back in the school for that period.”

“Of-fucking-course not…”

~~

“And don’t you think this is some sorta vacation, I expect the house to be damn spotless if you’re gonna be home all day!”

Clutching the strap of his backpack like a lifeline, Kevin slipped out of the car, the slamming of the driver’s door shooting up his spine. He said nothing, careful not to fall too far behind as he shut his door and followed his grumbling father up the front steps. There were plenty of ways to guarantee a bad day would get worse, and a top one was him having to come in and talk to the principal. To the point Kevin preferred to just get detention- nobody expected meetings over detentions, and it meant he didn’t have to go home for another hour or more. But then, that was also assuming it was the normal reasons his dad got called in. He was dirty, he was getting into fights, he used too many bad words or words he knew weren’t bad but that got the grown-ups all antsy anyway.

Kevin knew perfectly well this hadn’t been one of the normal reasons. Some part of him had known it was coming ever since he’d taken those scissors to his hair. Since he’d gone to up Mr. Dilgard in homeroom and told him his name. Since Tina had called him a lesbian like she was calling him a worm and nearly lost a tooth. In all truth he’d been hoping that it all would just, never come up, that his dad would just completely miss the change.

His last birthday had included a new sweater that’d been at least three sizes too small and also Blue’s Clues themed- there’d been decent odds.

And instead there he was, shutting the door behind him, eyes on the floor as he turned inside. Catching sight of his dad’s worn work boots planted firmly in the middle of the entryway, gaze climbing up his jeans, passed the crossed arms to the cold, unimpressed frown on his face. Kevin could hear his heartbeat going too fast, his gut knotting, something lodging itself in his throat. It was always hard to tell just what was going to get thrown his way, from a half-hearted compliment to a cutting dismissal, waved off as not worth the time or insulted as a waste of it. The uncertainty hurt worse than usual.

“So, a boy, huh?” Cornered, he shoved the fear trying to claw up his windpipe as far down as he could. Drew himself up as large as possible, shoulders back, meeting his dad’s eyes. Clenched his teeth till they ached as he forced himself not to blink, not to waver. A silent dare even as something awful wrapped around his spine.

(He’d listened to all the horror stories, curled up under his covers at night. He’d still chopped off his 'pretty' hair until the word stopped ringing in his head.)

(He’d read all about the pros of sitting in the closet until you were far away from your family. He’d still thrilled at the feel of his name on his lips as he told all his teachers.)

(He’d never been made to feel or be by halves. Pretending to be somebody else damn well might have killed him.)

He wasn’t going to pretend to be sorry.

His dad huffed a breath of air through his nose.

“Well, at least you’ve got some balls on you,” he said. Some amount of weight fell off Kevin’s shoulders, he could almost hear it crashing to the floor. Still, he kept tight as a support cable as his dad’s arms dropped, the man turned and headed deeper into the house. He probably wasn’t going to get thrown out, or sent to some sort of asylum or something...

(Mr Levin didn’t do things by halves either, if he’d been angry there’d have been no question of it…)

“You wanna be a man then I expect you to act like it, no more crying, no more of that girly shit-”

It could have gone much worse.

[themininthemoon]

A Color for Which There Is No Name

CHAPTER 1 - AO3

Min Yoongi/Park Jimin | trans jm | Historical AU | Mail-order bride JM | Kid Fic | Mpreg | Breastfeeding | Misgendering | Vaginal Sex | Hopeful Ending

Jimin’s mother had been beside herself when he told her that he had put an ad in the paper, that he was looking for a husband somewhere far away. Eventually, she gave up trying to dissuade him, realizing that he was decided, and when Jimin was decided on something he didn’t give up until he got his way.

OR: Jimin answers a desperate man's ad in the paper and lets the letters they exchanged lead him to a new life filled with new things.

Jimin keeps Min Yoongi’s last letter to him clutched tightly in his hand as the train pulls into the station. He’s not sure how he’ll know who the man is, since they hadn’t been able to exchange photographs, but he hopes he is as kind in real life as his words are in letters.

Jimin’s mother had been beside herself when he told her that he had put an ad in the paper, that he was looking for a husband somewhere far away. Eventually, she gave up trying to dissuade him, realizing that he was decided, and when Jimin was decided on something he didn’t give up until he got his way.

He has butterflies in his stomach as he steps off the train and onto the platform, holding the one suitcase he’d allowed himself in both hands. He goes on his tiptoes to see above the milling crowd, but he isn’t sure what he’s looking for. He adjusts the bluebonnet on the lapel of his cropped jacket, the sign they’d agreed upon to find each other at the station.

Minutes pass and the crowd is quickly thinning. Jimin’s hands are sweaty around the handle of his suitcase.

What if Yoongi doesn’t come? What if he changed his mind? What if he saw Jimin and didn’t approve of him? What if his mother was right and-

“Park Jimin?” A low voice asks.

Jimin’s head snaps up in surprise and he finds a man standing in front of him, looking cautious. There’s a bluebonnet pinned to the brim of his cap and he has a baby in a sling strapped to his chest. There are three other little ones in a gaggle around his legs.

Jimin has read their names in Yoongi’s letters, but he has no idea who is who.

“I’m sorry.” The man says and Jimin is confused. “I thought you were-”

“No, no!” Jimin breaks in, guilty. He took too long to respond. “I am. Park Jimin, that’s me.”

“Are you our new mama?” One of the older boys asks, peeking around Yoongi’s side to blink curiously up at Jimin.

Jimin flushes, panicked gaze going from the boy to Yoongi, looking for help. Yoongi turns his attention to his son, crouching down so they’re on the same level.

“Now, Haneul, we talked about this. Jimin is not replacing your Mama. Your Mama is your Mama even in heaven, remember?” Haneul nods very seriously, eyes flickering nervously to Jimin then back to his father. “Now what did we say about Jimin?”

Haneul swallows in a big gulp, turning his head to look at Jimin then back to Yoongi again.

“That she can pick what she wants to be called?” It comes out as a question.

Yoongi nods.

���That’s right, bud.” Yoongi’s gaze flicks to Jimin briefly then back to his son. He stands and surveys his brood. “Everyone understands, right?”

The two older boys nod resolutely, but the third - he looks to be two, maybe three - just babbles brightly, and Yoongi smiles. He leans down and kisses them each on the crown.

“Good boys.” He turns back to Jimin, cradling the baby strapped to his chest. “I’m sorry about that, Jimin. I talked to them before we came to get you, but they’re young.”

“That’s alright.” Jimin tells him softly. He crouches down the way Yoongi had before, not caring that his skirts hit the dirty platform. He uses the suitcase to balance himself. “Hello boys.”

“Hello!” Haneul and Eunho chorus. The third toddler screeches happily in time with his brothers.

Jimin smiles.

“Would you like to introduce yourselves? I can’t simply call you boys forever, can I?”

They shake their heads. The oldest is curling in on himself, shy.

“I’m Haneul. I’m six.” He mumbles.

“I’m Eunho!” The second tallest exclaims brightly, bouncing closer to Jimin and holding a tiny hand out to shake. “I’m four!”

Jimin takes his little hand and shakes it gently, smiling at the way the boy beams.

“It’s nice to meet you Eunho; I’m Park Jimin and I’m twenty.”

Eunho and Haneul both gasp.

“You’re old!” Haneul blurts.

“Haneul!” Yoongi admonishes him, eyes wide.

Jimin only laughs, throwing his head back, eyes crinkled up. He looks at Haneul with a big grin on his face and nods.

“That’s right; I am old, especially compared to you, but you wanna know who’s really old?” He asks, crooking a finger for the boys to come closer. Entranced, they do. “Your daddy is old old.”

The boys gasp, hands over their mouths. They turn to Yoongi.

“How old are you daddy?” Eunho asks, walking up to cling to Yoongi’s trousers.

Yoongi huffs, but he’s smiling, an amused tick of lips.

“Daddy is twenty-six.”

The two boys gasp theatrically.

Yoongi laughs and Jimin lets himself smile.

He thinks things are going well so far.

*

Jimin offers to take the baby as they walk toward the church and he’s pleased that the child is soon asleep, drooling on his bodice.

He knows the little one is named Byungwoo and if the eldest two are Haneul and Eunho, then the toddler walking on unsteady legs a few steps ahead of him must be Wonbin.

It's strange, he thinks. He just met them and soon he’ll be their stepmother. He tries not to flinch at the thought, looking over at Yoongi and his kind eyes.

Jimin hopes to prove his mother wrong, but he won’t know until after the deed is done.

It seems to take no time at all to go from saying hello for the first time to saying “I do.”

The preacher is practiced at officiating these types of events with two people from town pulled in as witnesses and an abbreviated ceremony, barely skimming the words before suddenly Yoongi’s hand is wrapped around his, sliding a ring onto his finger.

Jimin’s heart is beating fast as he does the same, Yoongi’s hands large and rough from working with his tools. He slides the ring onto Yoongi’s finger, pushing it down to the knuckle.

The preacher says “You may kiss the bride.” and suddenly they’re married, Jimin’s lips tingling from the brief moment of contact.

One of the strangers walks up to them with a smile.

He grasps Yoongi’s hand and says, “Congratulations, Yoongi. Are you going to introduce me to the new wife?”

Yoongi laughs awkwardly, shrugging and scratching at the back of his neck. His hand comes to rest at the small of Jimin’s back.

“This is Park Jimin.” He says, nodding between Jimin and the stranger. “Jimin, this is Kim Seokjin. He’s nosy as all get out, but his food’s the best around.”

Seokjin preens at the compliment, adjusting the lapels of his suit jacket primly.

It makes Jimin smile. He offers a hand.

“How do you do?” He smiles, demure.

“I’m quite well, beautiful.” Seokjin smiles right back, taking Jimin’s hand and bringing it up to his lips for a cheeky kiss.

It makes Jimin blush and giggle, pulling his hand back and curling it into a loose fist behind his back. He looks to Yoongi, worried for a moment, but the man is only rolling his eyes, fond.

Clearly Seokjin is simply like this all the time.

The baby starts crying before Jimin can be introduced to the other guest and Yoongi’s eyes go wide, reaching for his youngest son, but Jimin stays him with a dainty hand held up. He smiles reassuringly at Yoongi.

“Don’t worry, Yoongi. I can take care of him.”

Yoongi still looks concerned, hesitating before he puts his hands down. He nods.

“You’ll be alone with them often.” He tells Jimin, eyes stuck on Jimin’s hand rubbing soothing circles into the child’s back. He looks back up to meet Jimin’s gaze. “It’s important that you take good care of them.”

Jimin swallows hard. It hits him that Yoongi is entrusting his children to Jimin’s care, remembering that the first line of the ad he’d responded to was ‘Young Widower Seeking Wife, Must Be Good With Children.’

Suddenly it feels like too big a job for someone who’s never had children of his own, but the baby is calming down with Jimin’s shushing, falling back to sleep as he rocks on his feet.

“I’ll care for them as though I birthed them myself.” Jimin promises softly.

Yoongi reaches out and grabs Jimin’s small hand, giving it a firm squeeze.

“Thank you.” He says and Jimin hears: they mean the world to me.

“Of course.” Jimin says softly, squeezing back.

They let go of each other and Jimin misses the warmth of Yoongi’s hand around his.

*

It feels strange to walk into Yoongi’s home, trailing a step behind him with the weight of Byungwoo against his chest. It makes jimin a little lightheaded, looking around the rough hewn cabin with its lived-in decor, children’s blocks scattered in a corner, a knitted blanket on the back of a handmade chair.

He remembers Yoongi works as a carpenter and pauses to admire the craftsmanship of the furniture, the beautifully carved flowers that dance along the armrests of every seat. The delicacy of the work says something Jimin cannot articulate about his quiet new husband and his big, calloused hands. His skin tingles, goosebumps breaking out along his arms and down his chest.

The baby sighs in his sleep and shoves his face into Jimin’s ticklish neck, making him laugh and strain away. He pats Byungwoo’s back and gently turns his face toward his shoulder.

Jimin looks up and finds Yoongi watching him with an unreadable expression, but his eyes turn to his son when he notices Jimin looking back.

“He’s not bothering you?” Yoongi asks.

Jimin shakes his head.

“No, I’m quite comfortable.” He reassures his new husband. “I helped care for my niece back home. She’s not much older than this little one.”

“That’s good.” Yoongi nods. “You said you had experience with children.”

“Yes,” Jimin agrees. “My cousins are all married with families, and my older brother has two children of his own. I’ve spent a good amount of time with children of all ages.”

Yoongi nods again, eyeing Haneul and Eunho as they try to steal past him into the kitchen.

“Boys.”

They halt, nearly smacking into each other.

“Yes, daddy?” They chorus, blinking innocently.

Yoongi keeps a stern face.

“Those cookies are for after dinner.” He says firmly.

They droop and giggle, looking at each other with their heads bowed. Out of sight, Yoongi rolls his eyes, clearly fighting a smile.

“Come on into the sitting room.” He says, gesturing Jimin and the boys forward. “We’re gonna sit and talk a minute about this little family of ours, alright?”

Jimin follows nervously, taking the seat Yoongi offers beside him on the low sofa, careful not to jostle Byungwoo out of sleep.

Yoongi takes Wonbin into his lap and Haneul and Eunho sit on the carpet at Yoongi’s feet, looking up at their father with wide eyes, gazes darting between Yoongi and Jimin and each other.

“You’re not in trouble.” Yoongi starts and the boys sag. Yoongi huffs an amused little sigh, shaking his head. “Should you be in trouble?”

The two oldest boys shake their heads.

“No, Daddy.”

“Alright then, daddy isn’t here to scold you. He just wants to talk to you about Mrs. Jimin.”

“She’s not our mama, ‘cause mama is mama even in heaven.” Haneul recites, looking pleased with himself.

A shadow crosses Yoongi’s face, but it’s there and gone in a moment. He nods.

“That’s exactly right.” He says. “But that doesn’t mean you get to ignore Mrs. Jimin-”

“Mimi.” Jimin breaks in before he can think better of it

The attention of the room turns to him and he feels his cheeks go hot.

“I’m sorry.” He says softly, embarrassed. His heart is rabbiting in his chest. “I just- back home my nieces and nephews- they call me Mimi.”

Yoongi looks at him for a long, quiet moment.

“Mimi.” He repeats.

Jimin swallows hard and nods.

Yoongi nods back. He turns to the boys.

“You may call Mrs. Jimin “Mimi”, okay?”

The boys nod. Hanuel waves at Jimin shyly.

“Hi Mimi.” He whispers.

Jimin smiles and waves two fingers back. “Hi Haneul.”

They smile at each other until Yoongi clears his throat. It makes Jimin nervous until he realizes Yoongi is smiling too.

“As I was saying,” Yoongi begins again. “I expect the four of you to heed Mimi the same as you heed me, understand?”

Jimin’s heart flutters at hearing ‘Mimi’ in Yoongi’s low voice.

The boys nod.

“But she’s not mama?” Eunho says. He seems confused.

Yoongi looks at a loss.

“I’m your- your stepmama- your Mimi.” Jimin cuts in, hoping to help.

“Stepmama?”

Jimin nods, a knot in his chest. “That’s right, because your daddy and I got married, that makes me your stepmama. It’s like your Mama, but different.”

Eunho seems to think this information over very seriously. There’s a long, tense moment.

“Okay.” He chirps, easy.

Jimin feels ready to pass out from holding his breath, the way the tension suddenly leaks out of him all at once making him feel lightheaded.

“Okay.” Yoongi parrots back, blinking, a little bewildered. “Well. You all go on and go play then, alright? But don’t go too far.”

Eunho and Haneul nod and then they’re gone, door banging shut behind them. Wonbin has fallen asleep in Yoongi’s lap. The silence is awkward.

Jimin isn’t sure what to say.

Yoongi clears his throat and Jimin whips around to look at him, eyes wide.

Yoongi scratches awkwardly at the back of his neck.

“Would you like a tour? Or do you want to explore by yourself?”

“Oh, I-” Jimin pauses and takes a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. “I think I’d like to explore a little on my own, if that’s alright?”

“Of course!” Yoongi says, nodding his head. He reaches toward Byungwoo. “Here I’ll take the little one so you can check everything out without worrying about him.”

“Oh, no! That’s okay, really.” Jimin assures him, cradling Byungwoo closer. “I like having my little companion.”

The words make Yoongi smile, eyes crinkled softly at the corners.

“Okay.” He says quietly. “Just let me know when you’re done.”

Jimin nods.

“I’ll do that.”

Yoongi stands with Wonbin, giving Jimin and the baby one last long look before he nods and heads out the front door where Jimin can hear the older boys laughing. He looks down at Byungwoo and smiles, softly brushing the wispy hairs on his little head.

“What do you think, Byungie? Should we explore a little?”

The baby lets out a soft snore in response and Jimin stifles a laugh. He heads out of the sitting room and down the hall, peeking through each doorway he passes.

There’s only five rooms total that make up the cabin, the living room, a modest kitchen, and 3 bedrooms.

It’s easy to tell which room belongs to Yoongi, and which two are for the children. The nursery has a crib in one corner and a small toddler’s bed on the opposite side. The walls are painted with nature scenes, soft pastel rabbits jumping through tall prairie grass. It’s charming and Jimin finds himself smiling.

“How sweet.” He murmurs.

“Jieun painted them.”

The unexpected voice startles Jimin, making him jump, jostling the baby. Byungwoo screws his face up to cry but Jimin shushes him gently, rubbing his back and swaying side to side.

“I didn’t mean to scare you.” Yoongi grimaces.

Jimin shakes his head. “It’s fine; I just wasn’t expecting it. You’re rather light on your feet.”

Yoongi shrugs, awkward.

Jimin licks his lips, nodding toward the paintings.

“Jieun painted them?” He says softly. Yoongi nods and jimin reaches out to brush his fingertips lightly along the ear of a rabbit. “Your wife was quite an artist.”

“Yes.” Yoongi agrees. “Painting was her first love.”

“Not her children?” Jimin asks before he can think better of it, immediately flushing a mortified red. “I’m so sorry! Don’t answer that! I d-“

“It’s okay.” Yoongi stops the flow of words with a hand held up.

Jimin snaps his teeth together, holding his tongue.

“You’re not wrong,” Yoongi admits. “She loved her children dearly, but motherhood never came easily to her.” Yoongi looks at Byungwoo fast asleep in Jimin’s hold. He reaches out to brush his knuckles across the baby’s soft cheek. “Each time she gave birth she hoped it would finally happen, that some mothering instinct would unlock in her, that something would finally click into place.”

“Did it?” Jimin asks, quiet and curious.

Yoongi shrugs. “I don’t know, but she was a good mother, regardless, she loved all her children very much - that’s what I know.”

“Of course.” Jimin nods. “I would never suggest otherwise.”

Yoongi eyes him for a quiet moment and then nods toward Byungwoo.

“He likes you.”

Jimin smiles a little, rubbing Byungwoo’s back.

“He’s a sweet baby.”

Yoongi smiles, nodding his head.

“He’s much easier to care for than his brothers were, but I worry about how feeding him cow's milk since Jieun passed will affect his development.”

Jimin goes still for a moment before going back to rocking in his feet.

“We discussed that.” He says. “In our letters.”

“Yes.” Yoongi looks awkward at the reminder, looking down at his feet then back up, meeting Jimin’s gaze with an assuredness that makes Jimin swallow hard. “I hope there’s no issues with what we discussed.”

Jimin shakes his head. “No, of course not - like I said in my letter, I understand the importance of a mother’s milk, and he’s so small - it’s not good for him to be feeding on cow’s milk.”

Yoongi nods. “Okay, so long as we understand each other.”

Jimin reaches out a hand, rubbing reassuringly at Yoongi’s bicep.

“Don’t worry, Yoongi. I know what promises I made and I stand by them.”

Yoongi nods, touching the hand on his arm briefly.

“I need to get back to the boys - make sure they’re not getting into any trouble.”

Jimin smiles and nods, jostling Byungwoo lightly, “We’ll be here.”

Yoongi's expression softens, eyes warm. He leans down to press a kiss to Byungwoo’s temple.

“I’ll bring the boys inside after a while - take your time looking around; this is your home now.”

Jimin nods. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

Jimin smiles a little and the tips of Yoongi’s ears turn red. He nods and mutters “Okay.” again before heading out of the nursery and down the hall.

Jimin doesn’t watch him go, but he listens for Yoongi's footsteps as they fade away.

“Your father is a kind man.” Jimin whispers to Byungwoo. “I think we’ll get along just fine.”

>>> Ch. 2

[delicris]

ohhh, bolts and nuts! a very curious title, i'm intrigued 👀

BOLTS AND NUTS MY BABY

wolfstar, explicit, CZECH REMUS

this one is a modern au that takes place in my home country czechia!! it's a v bittersweet story of many first and last times. a lot of czech culture and references to it, i took the title itself from a czech song called šrouby a matice. the whole thing is written retrospectively (and from remus' pov), which is a choice i made to show that the story has already been told and there is nothing u can do to change it... right?

some of the tags include: gasps AND THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED, slice of life, trans sirius black and comfort (a huge motif, i love writing about different types of comfort and the additional feelings it brings)

THE PINTEREST BOARD HAS ALMOST 600 PINS AND I AM SO PROUD OF IT

aaand a lil snippet for u. featuring remus's gay panic and sirius acting out a train:

“Oh, um… I’m sorry? I don’t speak a word of Czech and I do realize that’s like one of the rudest fucking things ever — I can’t even say ‘thank you’, how did I think I was going to do this? Anyways, point is… You speak any English?”

Now it’s Remus’s turn to stare because one, it’s too early for this, as we’ve established a billion and one times before, and two, how the fuck did he watch this guy and didn’t catch the English swearing… And before he can even properly blink his shock away, the stranger is talking yet again.

“Fuck, okay… I,” he starts, fumbling a little and pointing at himself, “ticket, um… fuck. Train, uh… shoo shoo,” he tries to vocalize and act out a train. And Remus just fucking loses it, laughing so earnestly, surprising both the man in front of him and himself as he brings the attention of the entire three other people who are standing at the station with them towards the two of them. He doesn’t mind it a single bit and chokes out: “I know English, but now I wish I kept that going for a little longer.” Which might be a rude thing to say to someone you’ve met literally seconds ago, but he can’t bring himself to care all that much as he tries to catch his breath and regain at least some leftover dignity. And, to his delight, this whole thing actually makes the guy in front of him laugh. Oh, he’s so fucking beautiful.

Now he can make out the finer details of… everything. His earrings are stacked on both of his ears, a mix of silver and gold which is present in every piece of jewellery he’s wearing. Under the leather jacket is hiding a flowy white shirt with way too many buttons opened, making room for the chest tattoos — all in all, Remus is fucked. But he can’t let himself get embarrassed, so as soon as the man starts talking, he stops staring like a kid in a candy store.

“Now that you’re done laughing at my piss poor attempts at acting out a train,” he starts, tone playful and a smile spreading across his cheeks, “I’d really appreciate if you’d help me out with this fucking thing. Need to buy a ticket to Budapest and this fucker isn’t doing its job.”

[banannabethchase]

Take a Chance on Me Chapter 6: Does Your Mother Know? - also on AO3

~

Mox and Wheeler have a conversation they've half-had for 22 years, and Wheeler finds something out about two people he loves. Reluctantly.

~

I write this with the perspective of someone who has, in not so recent history, been 22 and stupid.

~

Eyes bleary with exhaustion, Wheeler shakes his head a little, trying to process everything he’d heard. He kicks his feet up on the table, covered in cans of soda and paper plates. “Dad,” he says, a little dazed, “holy shit, you had a really busy week.”

Mox laughs. “Yeah, kid, I know. Not as busy as, like, nine months later. But busy.”

“I just,” Wheeler shakes his head. “How the fuck did all of that happen?” He shakes his head. “Also, Jesus, ever heard of a condom?”

Mox blinks. “Wheels. I have said this a hundred times. I was 22 and stupid.”

Wheeler accepts that. “But, like. You must have known to track…things.” Wheeler doesn’t know much about periods, never having had one himself, but his friends from high school told him more than he expected and he knows there’s patterns to this stuff.

Mox shrugs. “Bud, I was 22 and trans. I only managed to get my name change organized with the help of my job. You really think I had the sense to track ovulation cycles?”

“A calendar app?”

Mox laughs, throwing his head back. “We didn’t have apps back then, kid. Jesus, you gen Z kids don’t know a world without technology.”

Wheeler opens his mouth to answer, and very suddenly realizes how right his dad is. He isn’t going to argue with him. He’s right. “That makes sense.” The next question he’s asked a few times, especially in the photos of Mox when he was pregnant with Wheeler. “You were okay with it?”

“Of course I was okay with it.” Mox’s clear blue eyes are serious. “It was my decision, and I got you out of it all. That’s all that matters. There were some weird moments, yeah, but.” He yawns. “I support you, fully, in finding out who it is. But, for me, it didn’t matter. As a kid, you asked, but you didn’t…” He pauses. “Well, I would say we could find him, and you’d say you didn’t care.”

“I didn’t,” Wheeler says, catching the yawn from Mox. “Not really. Not until Claudio proposed. And then I figured, maybe at the wedding.” He shrugs. “It could be fun to have him walk me down the aisle.”

“I get that,” Mox says, and he reaches over and squeezes Wheeler’s hand.

There’s a little shuffling from the guest room. “You guys still up?” Seth asks. He looks far too chipper for five thirty in the morning, hair tied up in a stylishly messy bun like he meant to do it that way. “Boys, go to sleep.”

“I was busy learning about all the bad decisions my father made in his early twenties,” Wheeler replies.

“Aw, potato,” Seth says, leaning over to kiss the top of Wheeler’s head. “All those bad decisions led to you.”

Wheeler leans into him, the familiar scent of his shampoo surrounding him like a home.

Seth makes himself comfortable on the couch next to Mox, who looks not entirely pleased to see Seth next to him. “He tell you about how he seduced Chuck by insulting him?”

Wheeler rolls his eyes. “Yes.”

Seth wrinkles his nose. “He tell you about where they banged?”

“Against your car, yes,” Wheeler says.

Mox laughs. “You’re still mad about it?”

“Yes!” Seth says. “That was the first car I ever owned and you got,” he wrinkles his nose, “sweat everywhere.”

“Okay, seriously?” Wheeler says, and he’s beginning to regret all of this. “Dad, you were so much more,” he pauses, trying to find the words, “succinct in your LiveJournal posts.”

“Using words like succinct is why I worry you’re Regal’s kid,” Mox says, staring at him.

Wheeler rolls his eyes. “That’s more a product of, you know, going to college.”

“Whatever,” Mox says. “You’re smart enough to know what succinct means and figure out the internet to get my old LiveJournal posts. You’re a genius, we know.”

Wheeler shrugs. “I mean, your words not mine.” There’s a strange silence that settles, like Seth and Mox know exactly what he’s about to ask next and they’re trying to find a way to avoid it. “Okay, so, which one, if you absolutely had to guess, is my dad?”

“I – kid, I just told you about how,” he pauses, “how do I put this appropriately yet firmly to my child?”

“Slutty you were that week?” Seth suggests, halfway through his green smoothie.

“You shut it,” Mox says. “But, yeah. How slutty I was. I really have no clue.”

Wheeler nods. “Yeah, I get it. Hey, is this why you were always on me so much about safe sex as a teenager? Because you were a slut?”

“Okay, now, I don’t like my kid calling me a slut,” Mox says, frowning.

“Fine, sexually untethered,” Wheeler says with an eye roll. “Stop beating around the bush.”

Seth snorts.

“Would you please leave?” Mox groans, dropping his head in his hands. Seth shoots a grin over his head at Wheeler.

“Later, sweet potato.” He blows a kiss to Wheeler.

“Prick’s probably going to go for a run on the beach and then do yoga while he drinks coconut water or something,” Mox grumbles.

“Dad, focus,” Wheeler says. Now that he’s asked it, he can’t stop asking. “Are you – you don’t even have an inkling?”

“Nada,” Mox says. “I promise, if I knew who your other dad was, I’d’ve told you years ago.” He reaches his arms out and Wheeler curls up next to him on the couch, leaning on his Dad’s arm like a pillow, just like he’d done since he was a baby. “I didn’t keep it from you because I was ashamed, or annoyed, or wanted you not to have another dad. I just…” He sighs, pausing. Wheeler can see the tension, the concern, in the lines of his father’s face. “I didn’t end any of those, uh, connections on a romantic or relationship note, I guess. And telling them I had you…” He trails off. “Honestly, I didn’t want to share you. You were the first unexpected good thing in my life that I could keep safe, keep my own.” He turns to Wheeler with a sad kind of smile on his lips. “It was selfish, but I wasn’t willing to let anybody claim to be the reason you were as amazing as you are.”

He sits with it for a moment, letting the memories play across his vision. First days of school, field trips, wrestling matches. His first day of college. His dad was always there, often accompanied by one of his many uncles, with a smile and unlimited love.

Wheeler wipes away some rogue tears before they fall down his cheeks, and hugs his dad close. “I never needed anybody else but you, Dad,” he says quietly. “But, sometimes,” he forces the words out, “sometimes, I wanted the other one.”

“I know.” Mox’s voice is choked. His dad’s crying. He never cries. “I was selfish. And that hurt you.”

“You didn’t know,” Wheeler says. “And I didn’t either, really, not until I got engaged.” He lifts his head. “You know I’m not mad at you, right?”

Mox wipes another tear, coughs gruffly. “You sure?”

“Yeah, I am.” And Wheeler means it. “You had hard decisions to make. And I –” Wheeler has to take a deep breath to steady himself. “I wouldn’t be who I am without all the work you put in to make me who I am.”

“Oh, potato,” Mox says, face crumpling. “All your accomplishments are yours. I just helped push you to where you needed to be.”

They sit like that, holding each other, until Wheeler’s tears have dried and exhaustion has won its battle against his questions. He fails at fighting back a yawn.

“You should go back to Claudio,” Mox mumbles into Wheeler’s hair. “Get some sleep. You’re getting married on Sunday.”

“Tomorrow,” Wheeler clarifies. “I’m getting married tomorrow.”

Mox sits up. “Shit. Go sleep some, Wheels. I’ll see you later today.” He presses a kiss to Wheeler’s forehead. “Love you.”

“Love you too, Dad.”

Seth is reorganizing the kitchen cabinets as Wheeler passes through. “You heading out?”

Wheeler nods. “I,” he interrupts himself with a yawn, “I gotta get some sleep.”

Seth leans over and kisses his forehead as he walks by. “Enjoy your weekend, Wheels,” Seth says. “Seriously. Make this about you and Claudio. Don’t let anything else interrupt.”

Wheeler nods. “Of course.”

He’s too close to half asleep as he drives himself back to the hotel. He yawns as he stumbles his way toward his hotel room, and nearly crashes into somebody as he steps into the hallway to the stretch of rooms for their wedding party.

“Watch where – Potato!”

“Uncle Eddie!”

Eddie yanks him in for a rough hug, giving him a noogie. “Kiddo! Missed you last night!”

“I was with Dad,” Wheeler says, wiggling out of Eddie’s grip.

Eddie grabs him by the cheeks, turns his face. “You look great, kid. Tired as fuck, though. Why you still up?”

“I uh,” he breaks eye contact, “I may have invited the three guys who might be my other dad to the wedding.”

Eddie blinks. “Oh, you’re a fucking idiot.”

“I know,” Wheeler says. “Why, uh. Why are you up?”

For the first time in Wheeler’s life, he sees Eddie blush. He looks…caught. “Oh, you don’t wanna know.” He laughs, a little awkward. He pulls off his hat and starts scrubbing his hand on his head.

Wheeler stares. “Did…what did you do?”

“Nothing. Go to bed, Tater, go make out with your European mountain range.”

“His name is Claudio.”

“His entire identity is being European,” Eddie says, rolling his eyes. “I’m just matching his vibe or whatever.” He presses a rough kiss to the side of Wheeler’s head. “I gotta go to bed.”

Wheeler quirks an eyebrow. “So you weren’t coming from your bedroom.”

“Shut up! Love you! Leave me alone!”

Wheeler laughs and yawns, stumbling his way to his hotel room where Claudio is already awake and showered. “There you are!” he says, lighting up. “Missed you last night. Could barely sleep.”

Wheeler presses a kiss to his cheek as he dizzily sits down on the bed, toeing off his shoes. “Dad and I spent the night talking,” he explains. “I know…so many things now.”

“Like who your other dad is?”

“Oh, no,” Wheeler says. He slides under the covers, yawning. “Found out my dad was kind of a slut before I was born, though. That was enlightening.”

 Claudio blinks. “I’ll ask you more about that when you don’t look like you’re about to pass out.” He kisses Wheeler gently. “Go to sleep, Schatzi.”

And Wheeler does.

~

He wakes up, not long enough later, to somebody smacking him with…well, a pillow is his only guess. That or a Squishmallow.

“Wake up, Wheely!”

“Danny,” Wheeler groans. “Fucking leave me alone.”

“Get up, bitch, we have ho shit to do.” The blankets are ripped away, and Wheeler is now annoyed and cold.

He sits up, a little dizzy. “You fucking suck.”

“Yeah, I do.” He winks. “Let’s go hang by the beach.”

“I’m tired!”

Danny shrugs. “And? I don’t give a fuck. Go get your bathing suit and let’s go chill.”

“How did you even get in here?” Wheeler looks around.

“Claudio gave me the key.” Danny grabs his arm, half yanking him out of the bed. “Come on, you douche, we have bachelor shit to do.”

And, unfortunately, Wheeler follows.

They make their way down to the hotel’s private beach. It’s beautiful out, sun beating down on them as they spread out their beach chairs and the umbrella. Wheeler thinks he may be able to fall back asleep.

The umbrella casts a comforting shadow, soothing and gentle, and he’s almost asleep when Danny speaks.

“So,” Danny says, “I gotta tell you something.”

Wheeler turns to him, one eye open. “Oh, I hate that tone.”

Danny’s grin is horrifying. “Guess what I did last night.”

“I don’t want to know.” Something starts to dawn on him, but he’s not sure what.

“I’ll give you a hint,” Danny says, stretching out. “I got railed last night so good I can barely walk today.”

Wheeler winces. “Nobody I’m related to?” Nobody, he desperately thinks, he ran into in the hallway that morning.

“Well,” Danny says. “Technically, you’re not related to him.”

“Oh, no,” Wheeler groans. He turns slowly, reluctantly, to Danny. “Danny, please tell me you didn’t fuck my dad’s best friend.”

Danny shrugs, grinning lips almost as red as the hickies across his chest and neck. It’s all Wheeler needs as confirmation. “Alright, bet. I won’t tell you.”

Wheeler grabs the leg of his beach chair and flips it over. “Did you fuck Eddie?”

“You told me not to tell you,” Danny says, and it’s unfair that he’s the one laughing while he’s face down in the sand.

“Oh, god, you met him when we were, like, just out of high school!” Wheeler groans. He drops his head back onto the chair, and half hopes the sun burns him alive. “That’s so gross!”

“What can I say?” Danny says, shoving himself back to sitting and fixing his chair. Wheeler gets a little vindication at the way the sand sticks to all the places he’s got sunscreen. “I like an older man.”

“Jesus,” Wheeler says, feeling a little weak. “Why is everybody in my life a slut?”

“And proud of it,” Danny says.

“Don’t look so smug about sleeping with my uncle, please,” Wheeler whines.

Danny looks at him, slides on his sunglasses. “Deal with it, bitch. You’ll be calling me Uncle Danny once I get him to propose.”

Wheeler laughs. “Eddie’ll never get married.”

“That’s a challenge I’m willing to take on.”

Wheeler chucks the sunscreen at Danny. “No! Bad!”

They start hitting each other with towels until Wheeler shoves Danny into the ocean and only halfway holds his head under the water. It goes back and forth, with probably too much saltwater ending up in his lungs, but it reminds him of college.

He’s got one leg on the back of Danny’s neck, holding him under, when he hears it.

“Wheeler, who’re you drowning over there?”

Wheeler jumps at Eddie’s voice just enough to slip, letting Danny to the surface, spluttering. “You fucking douchebag, the leg isn’t –” He cuts himself off once he sees Eddie make his way down the beach, and turns bright pink. Wheeler gives him a little credit for how he tries to cover it with a smile.

“Hey, Uncle Eddie,” he says, and he makes it sound annoyingly dirty. “How you doing?”

Wheeler dives under the water for a brief respite from whatever Danny and Eddie are doing, but he can only hold his breath for so long. When he comes up for air, Danny’s running along the beach after Eddie.

“Come on, be my date to the wedding!”

“You’re, like, eighteen.”

“I’m twenty-two!”

“You know how fuckin’ stupid people are at 22, kid?” Eddie says.

Wheeler gets out of the ocean. “Dad had me at 22.”

“Yeah, it was the only smart thing he did that year, Potato Head,” Eddie retorts. “Go back underwater, I don’t want you to hear this.”

“Danny told me everything. Too late.”

Eddie groans, looking toward the sky as if God might grant him a mercy killing right then and there. “Jesus, kid, what part of ‘keep this between us’ didn’t get through your head?”

Danny blinks innocently, and Wheeler’s seen him use that strategy on too many guys to count over the years. “Sorry, Eddie. I think you just fucked the sense out of me.”

“That implies you had any sense to begin with,” Wheeler says.

Eddie stares at him, the one he’d always get when he got too close to the weights as a toddler or started climbing the ring posts when he got a little bit older. The one warning him that, if he kept going, whatever happened was his own fault. “You be careful, Tater.”

“I was insulting Danny, not you.”

Eddie shrugs. “Shit. You’re right.” He looks back at Danny. “Listen to Wheeler, kid, he’s the one with the reason between the two of you.”

“Oh, wait, no,” Danny says, looking between the two of them. “You don’t both get to insult me.”

“You fucked my uncle,” Wheeler deadpans, “on my wedding weekend. I get to do whatever the hell I want.”

Eddie laughs at that one, the kind of belly laugh Wheeler has millions of mental screenshots of from his childhood. “He’s right, baby, you don’t get to tell him anything.”

Danny turns on this big eyed pout. “You called me baby?”

“Aw, fuck,” Eddie says. “Don’t fall in love with me, kid. You’ll regret it.”

~

Fun fact: The Eddie/Danny of it all is what convinced me to write this fic instead of leaving it in my chaos brain pocket. Here, have a link to the scene in the movie inspiring the Eddie/Danny. It's good. It's really good.

[the-storming-sea]

For prompts: Todoroki using every single Toshi-Izuku interaction to add to his "Izuku is All Might's secret love child' conspiracy board

Tfw its been like two to three days but Many Things have happened in that time. Oops

Uh, anyways–

"Dude. What. The. Fuck."

Sero, Kirishima, and Yaoyorozu stared, wide-eyed and nearly slack-jawed from the futon they currently sat at. Across from them, hanging off the wall was a large pinboard, polaroid pictures and newspapers articles with certain words and pictures circled in with bright red marker tacked onto different places, red string connecting each and every single one of those pictures together.

And in front of that pinboard stood Todoroki Shouto, one of the most powerful students at UA, son of the current Number One Hero, wide-eyed and wild-haired and probably, by definition, out of his fucking mind.

"Listen. I'm not crazy–"

"Literally everything that's happening now is providing evidence to the contrary."

"–but All Might is Midoriya's father."

"That's." Kirishima blinked, once, his brain attempting to process what his classmate was saying. "What?"

"All Might. Is. Midoriya's. Father," Todoroki said, slower, like he was trying to explain quantum physics to a toddler. Or to anyone.

"Todoroki, All Might's never been in a public relationship before," Yaoyorozu replied, slower. Of all of Todoroki's eccentricities, this had to be the weirdest one yet. "Not to mention, all of All Might's speculated relationships have been with men."

"Then at least one of his partners is trans, or he's trans!"

"They don't even look the same!"

"Then Midoriya gets his looks from his mother! They have the same quirk! They practically act the same!" Todoroki threw his hands up in exasperation, frost creeping on the side of his fingers. "I'm still right!"

"Bro, you've met Midoriya's mother."

"Artificial insemination! Adoption! Again, secret love child!"

Todoroki slapped his hand on the board, slightly burning the edges of one of the newspaper clippings. "Look, see here," he said, pointing to the clipping. Kirishima tentatively walked up, squinting at the headline. "Read this."

"'Mystery Samaritans Found Cleaning Up Takoba Beach.'" Kirishima frowned. "So?"

Sero's eyes brightened. "Oh, I remember that! I used to go to the beach all the time with my family," he said. "What's that gotta do with anything?"

"Look at this photo!"

Kirishima turned his eyes towards the photo, frowning. His eyes widened in shock.

"Holy shit, is that Midoriya?"

"Huh, so it is," Yaoyorozu said. "And...is that...?"

"YES!" Todoroki exclaimed, once again slapping his hand on the pinboard and startling his friends. "All Might, as he currently looks now, and Midoriya found at Takoba beach a full year before the school year starts. That means they knew each other before the school year started!"

"You repeated yourself."

"I know I know I know but why," Todoroki pressed, taking a deep breath, "why would All Might, in his weakened state before Kamino, be seen with Midoriya unless...unless that was his secret son."

He clapped his hands together just as he was finishing his point, clearly pleased by his argument. The three stared back at him, slightly alarmed.

"Or...maybe he just met him recently and they decided to clean the beach together," Yaoyorozu said tentatively. "It could happen."

"Or, or they decided to train for Midoriya's UA Exam together by lifting appliances at the beach! Or working out around the beach a year before!" he protested. "My father used to make me train by lifting up heavy objects ten times my size and pushing my quirk before the UA exam too!"

Sero frowned. "Todo, I know good parenting is a foreign concept to you, but comparing your relationship with your dad to Midoriya and All Might maybe isn't the best of ideas."

"I'm pretty sure Iida used to train with his hero brother in a very normal way," Todoroki nearly fucking pouted. The guy was really fired up– metaphorically and a little bit literally, judging by his floor. "But, but anyway, what I'm trying to say was that All Might, trying to make sure Midoriya would be strong enough for the entrance exam, made him clean up the beach because he was helping to train his son!"

Kirishima stared at him. "Bro."

"I'm right! Not to mention, why would he be in his thinner state around Midoriya if he wasn't his son?!"

"Maybe he told him about the weakened form back then by accident?" Sero said. "Todoroki, seriously. You're looking too deep into this."

"I agree," Yaoyorozu said. She loved her friend, truly, but as good as it was for Todoroki to exhibit any other emotion besides confusion and rage, this couldn't be healthy for him.

Todoroki groaned. "Okay, okay, fine. Exhibit B!" He pointed to a picture of All Might and Midoriya walking into All Might's office. "They eat lunch together! Who does that with a teacher?!"

Kirishima hummed. "Okay, I'll give you that one," he said, looking back at the others. "You gotta admit, that is a little suspicious."

"You forget, Midoriya broke his bones a lot at the beginning of the year just by activating his quirk," Yaoyorozu said, calmly. "As the Heroics teacher, All Might would want to make sure they can find a way for Midoriya to improve his quirk use without breaking his bones, so it would make sense for All Might to meet up with Midoriya out of class."

"But why continuously?!" Todoroki pressed. "Even after Midoriya got a handle of his quirk?!"

Yaoyorozu frowned. "Well, Bakugo meets with them now. Is Bakugo All Might's son too?"

"Details, details," Todoroki said with a wave of his hand. "Bakugo's practically Midoirya's boyfriend anyways. All Might probably wants to vet him or something."

"Somehow I believe that less than your 'All Might is Midoriya's dad' theory."

"They're going to get together, just you wait," Todoroki said. "Anyways, back to business. It's not just at school too! Even now that we're in the dorms, lately All Might will eat with Midoriya, alone, just the two of them!"

He pointed to another picture of Midoriya and All Might eating meat buns on a bench, no one else in sight, lightly chatting. "See! It would make sense if All Might ate with any one of us, or if there was a bigger crowd, but it's just those two! That's a normal parenting thing, right?"

"Dude how did you even get that picture."

"Irrelevant."

Yaoyorozu ran her eyes over the full board again, wincing internally. As...off-putting as her friend's efforts were, he did have a point. All Might's actions towards Midoriya were unprecedented of a teacher, Aizawa would certainly never be caught dead with any of them. And sure, they simply could be good friends who met a little before the Takoba news article picture, friends could be of all ages after all, but with the way All Might treated Midoriya daily, it was getting more and more likely that Todoroki's theory was correct. Which had some very interesting implications and also a media shitstorm on its way if it was true.

"And," Todoroki continued, now rambling as fast as Midoriya was, "did you know that All Might visited the Midoriya's to talk about the dorm system alone?"

Kirishima's mouth dropped. "Seriously?"

Todoroki nodded, eyes wide and a small smile on his face. "Aizawa-sensei told us himself back when he asked my father if I could stay in the dorms! My father asked where All Might was and Aizawa-sensei told him that they split up right before the Midoriya's!"

Sero's eyes widened. "Okay, I will admit that that's weird."

"I know right?!" Todoroki exclaimed, out of breath and restlessly pacing the floor. "Not only that, but All Might was one of the first people Midoriya texted right after he got his hero license. And Midoriya ended up interning with a hero who All Might knows directly and worked with Nighteye during his work-study who's All Might's only sidekick! And then Midoriya was invited personally to I-Island by All Might! And–"

Knock knock.

The group froze.

"Young Todoroki? Can I speak with you?"

Fuck.

Todoroki tentatively walked over to his door, opening it just enough to find All Might standing behind it, a worried expression on his face. "Are you all alright? The kids downstairs reported a lot of yelling, and I think you may have frozen and burnt through your floor?"

Todoroki looked back at his floor, which now looked slightly more like the training room back home than it did his dorm room. "Right. I can pay for that."

"No need my boy, just make sure it doesn't happen again or I think Aizawa'll have all of our heads," All Might chuckled. He then frowned, slightly opening the door more. "What on Earth is that?"

His eyes were pointed directly behind Todoroki, to the pinboard the high schooler had been deliriously gesturing towards for the past few minutes. Kirishima, Sero, and Yaoyorozu stared at each other awkwardly, shuffling their feet.

"Um...well, y'see–"

"All Might, is Midoriya your illegitimate child?"

The air paused. Everyone turned their eyes to the teen.

All Might blinked. "I'm sorry...what?"

WHAT THE FUCK, TODOROKI?!

"Todoroki, bro, you can't just ask shit like that!" Kirishima exclaimed, who now, like the many people around him, was going through all the stages of grief. "That's not one of those things you can just ask people!"

Todoroki tilted his head. "I asked Midoriya."

"YOU ASKED MIDORIYA?!"

"I–"

The kids now directed their attention back to All Might, who had managed to shake himself out of his stupor and somehow made his way to the pinboard. "I'm not...young Todoroki, believe me when I say I'm 100% sure I'm not Midoriya's biological father," he said, rapidly glancing back and forth from the board to Todoroki. "As...creepily impressive as this is," he continued, gesturing to the entirety of the board, "I've never had a child, and besides, young Midoriya's biological father works overseas, in America."

He pointed to the slightly burnt newspaper clipping of Takoba beach, looking back at Todoroki. "Is this about the Takoba beach cleaning?"

Todoroki nodded.

"Huh." All Might turned to the clipping, a strange, soft, thoughtful look on his face. "I didn't know they did a report about it." He turned back to Todoroki. "May I keep this?"

Todoroki nodded again, even slower, and a delighted smile appeared on All Might's face. The four students watched with wide eyes as he took the newspaper clipping in one hand and the pin in between his other fingers, gently lifting the pin from where it had been embedded in the pin board, lifting the newspaper clipping from its place, and placing the pin back where he had found it. Seconds passed. All Might rubbing his thumb over the picture in the newspaper with a soft chuckle. He then gently folded it, each crease careful not to tear the newspaper apart, before placing it in the pocket of his tracksuit.

Then, as if he remembered that there were other people in the room, he turned to Todoroki. "Ah, Aizawa-kun said that you had redecorated your room yourself, yes?"

Todoroki nodded, still stunned. "Perfect! The bots will be up here in a few minutes or so to repair your floor, and then refurbish your room any way you see fit." All Might clapped his hands together, a bright smile on his face. "Just try not to do it as much, alright? And please stop stalking young Midoriya and I. I don't know how many times I can catch you in the act before telling him that one of his best friend's have been stalking us to obtain proof of our non-existant biological relationship."

"You saw me?"

"Young Todoroki, I've been the number one hero for three and a half decades."

"Oh." Todoroki frowned. "Sorry."

"Just don't let it happen again, please." All Might took a heavy sigh before finally addressing the others in the room. "Young Kirishima, Yaoyorozu, and Sero, I'll be seeing you in class tomorrow. Plus Ultra!"

"See you!"

"See you tomorrow All Might!"

All Might left the room, closing the door behind him, leaving Todoroki, Kirishima, Sero, and Yaoyorozu in the room, waiting for the repair bots to arrive, silent and bewildered with what had just transpired in the past ten minutes. The four of them couldn't move, only the sound of breathing being proof that any of them were even alive. After what felt like several, long, painstaking seconds, Todoroki turned to his friends.

"Y'know, All Might worked in America for a while."

"FOR GOD'S SAKE, TODOROKI."

[imaginejamesandsirius]

Hey i love your stories! Can you please write a fanfic where after Lily rejects James yet again, Sirius starts to give James hints that he is into him. Also make Harry time travel to the past while all this is happening. And Harry witnesses a cute Prongsfoot or Jirius or Starbucks. And learns the truth about himself that us parents are James Potter and Sirius Black ?

((A/N: Trans Sirius-- with a brief mention of a trans pregnancy since most of this fic takes place in Hogwarts))

Sirius rubbed a hand in circles against James's back for comfort. Or at least, he hoped it was comforting him, but he wasn't sure if it was having the intended effect. "It's not that bad, mate," Sirius said.

"She looked at me like she wanted nothing more than for me to drop dead," James muttered.

Sirius swallowed and plucked up some courage-- he was always in short supply of it when it came to James. "That's what I mean. She's not interested. Maybe it's time for you to... try with someone else. Someone that already knows you and likes you for it."

"Mm. Yeah," James said, sounding resigned, "maybe." He looked over at Sirius with a small, sad smile. "What happened to 'don't worry about it, Prongs, she'll come around'?"

"You're miserable like this," Sirius said. "If chasing after her is going to make you this sad, I don't care if you end up happily married with five kids, ten years from now. I would rather you be happy now, and only get more happy in the next ten years, rather than be utterly miserable in the beginning."

James laughed, and his smile lost the sadness. "Thanks, Padfoot."

That was more progress than he'd had in the last year. He smiled back.

*

"You make it sound like there's someone just waiting to date me," James said. They were laid out on the Quidditch Pitch, looking up at the cloudy sky. They'd started by pointing out the clouds that they found shapes in, then they started making up elaborate lies for what they saw, then the conversation-- as it so often did when they were talking without direction-- turned to Lily. From there, James admitted that he thought Sirius was right about not trying to date her anymore, and Sirius told him that he would have better opportunities in the future.

"Maybe there is," Sirius said, feeling like his throat had something stuck in it. "Have you taken a look around lately? You're great, and I'm sure someone has noticed that-"

"Mister Potter!"

They both sat up. Professor McGonagall was striding towards them, so they scrambled to their feet. "We're allowed to be out here," James said, sounding both defensive and confused. They weren't going to get in trouble, were they? It wasn't after hours, and the Quidditch Pitch wasn't off limits.

"You need to come with me, immediately."

"I didn't do anything wrong for once," James said, sounding more confused than ever. Sirius felt much the same.

"You are not in trouble," she said, sounding frustrated. "There's a matter the Headmaster needs to see you about."

James started forward, and Sirius did too.

"Your presence is not required, Mister Black," she said.

Sirius stopped in his tracks, blinking at her. Where James went, he went. The professors hardly bothered to give them separate detentions anymore, since they knew there was no point in it. He shared a look with James, and they both shrugged. James left with Professor McGonagall, and Sirius sank back onto the pitch.

Well. Sod everything. He felt like he'd been about to make some progress. James barely thought about other people as a romantic option, and he certainly didn't think of Sirius that way. He'd been about to broach it as a possibility. A very minor possibility. Barely a nudge in the right direction.

He knew what would happen if he told James flat out that he was interested in him: panic and rejection. James would panic when he heard that Sirius fancied him because he hadn't expected it, and when James heard something he didn't expect of this magnitude, he'd run away. James only ran when it was family. His parents. Sirius. Nobody else. Sirius wasn't quite sure when he became part of 'family' and not simply 'best mate', and he didn't know if it excluded him from being a possible partner or not. Once James started thinking about other people, it would be easier to see if he stood half a chance.

*

Harry could never remember seeing his parents. He'd known them when he was a baby, obviously, but that had been it. The complete beginning and end of his time with them. He didn't have any memories. All he had were the photos that Hagrid had kindly given him, and the handful of stories that people had told him. The pictures were great. Harry could look through them a dozen times and not be bored. The stories were barely existent. They were tidbits more than anything else. 'Your father loved Quidditch' and 'your mother was clever'. They weren't full stories about a prank his father had done, or something his mother had done while she was Head Girl. No stories. Just personality traits. He wanted... more. More memories for his parents that were long gone.

He wanted to feel some sort of connection to them. He hadn't meant for that to be taken to an entirely new level, but he should hardly be surprised that his magic had led him to it. Led him directly to his parents at Hogwarts, while they were in sixth year.

"I didn't mean for this to happen," Harry said apologetically to Professor Dumbledore, but he couldn't take his eyes off his father. He was only a couple years younger here than he was in the most recent photos Harry had of him. It was strange to think that only a few years from now, the teenager in front of him would be a father. Harry tried to imagine himself doing that, and he couldn't.

"I'm your father?" James asked numbly.

"Yeah," Harry said, adding a nod unnecessarily.

"Who's your mother?"

"Lily Evans."

James's eyes went wide. "Evans? That's- that's not possible. She won't give me the time of day."

"I've been told that you start getting on in the next year or two."

"Told?" Professor McGonagall asked, and Harry hesitated.

"I'm not sure I should say," he hedged.

"Mister Potter," Professor Dumbledore said, and Harry looked over automatically, but the Headmaster was talking to his father. "Could you wait outside for a minute?"

For a second, it looked like he was going to refuse. A small part of Harry hoped that he would, that he'd demand to spend as much time with his future son as he could. But the moment passed and he gave a short nod before leaving the room.

*

"He's my kid from the future!" James hissed into the mirror.

Sirius's eyes went wide. He looked as shocked as James had felt. "What?"

"That's not all. He said that his mum is Evans!"

"What?"

"Apparently we start getting on in the next year or so. He didn't get to tell me more before they made leave the room, but can you imagine? Me and Evans? It was starting to feel like a fantasy, but- I guess we make it."

"Yeah."

He was so excited that he didn't notice how subdued Sirius was. "Merlin, Pads, it's incredible! I can't wait to get to know him. He'll love you. I bet you haven't changed a bit," he said, grinning.

"Ha, yeah, sounds like me."

James heard footsteps on the stairway. "Got to go."

"B-"

He tapped the mirror to end the connection before Sirius could finish getting the word out. He'd apologise for it later, if Sirius was feeling peeved. He shoved the mirror back in his robes. Some of the professors knew that they had them, but there was no reason to wave it around under their noses and risk it being confiscated.

*

By some stroke of fate, Harry got to be alone with Sirius. It made him feel more comfortable than anyone else. He didn't know why, because it's not like Sirius as a teenager was anything like Sirius as an adult. He didn't have the weight of Azkaban on him. He had none of the death, none of the experiences from war. Not to say that he was innocent and carefree here. His parents were utter rubbish, and he'd already run away to live with Harry's father and grandparents.

He was so different that at times, it seemed like he was a different person altogether, but his laugh was the same. When he laughed, Harry knew that he was the same person underneath it all.

It just... made him feel better to be around him.

"Missing home?" Sirius asked. They'd been told to stay inside. Naturally, Sirius had suggested they go out to the Great Lake. Harry had never done it before; it wasn't safe for him, not in his time with who he was. It was beautiful though, with the night sky clear and reflecting on the surface.

"No," Harry said. 

Sirius raised an eyebrow in doubt.

"Missing my friends."

"Ah. I can understand that." Sirius retrieved a pack of smokes from his pocket. He tapped one out into his hand and offered it to Harry.

He hesitated before accepting it. "I've never had one before," he admitted, figuring that it was obvious in the way he was holding it.

"Too afraid your parents will catch you?" Sirius asked with a grin, like the idea of Harry not wanting to get in trouble with his parents was very amusing to him.

"Not really. More like... who would have offered one to me? I'm barely passing my classes with how busy I am."

"Busy with what?" Sirius asked. He didn't think it was a question that was like walking into a minefield, but it was.

"Can't say," Harry said. "How do I light this?"

Sirius snorted, but not unkindly. He flicked out a finger, a flame dancing above his skin. It reminded Harry of when he'd met Remus on the train to Hogwarts in third year and he'd been holding fire above his palm as easy as anything. He lit the end of Harry's cigarette. "Don't try to take too much at once. Small puffs until you get used to it."

Harry smoked the whole thing, chatting back and forth with Sirius. Mostly it was Sirius laughing at him and Harry asking for advice on how to hold it and asking if it was supposed to taste this bad-- the answer was yes.

"So do we get on?" Sirius asked, after he'd vanished the butts and they were just sitting by the lakeside again with nothing to do. "In your time?"

"I'm not supposed to say," Harry said, clamming up.

"Oh, c'mon. It's not the end of the bloody universe if you tell me that I do alright as a godfather. You must like me at least a little bit, if you're spending time with me now. Or I guess you could be running away from your lovebird parents with the eyes they're making at each other," he added, sounding too bitter about it considering he was talking to their son. A son who, as far as he could tell, loved his parents very dearly, even if he wasn't allowed to give any sort of details or stories.

"Do you not like them together?" Harry asked.

"Hard to dislike something you've never seen," he grumbled. "You know who you remind me of?" he asked suddenly.

"My dad?" Harry replied wryly.

"I was going to say my younger brother, actually. Regulus."

"You have a brother? I mean, I knew that you did, but. Well, you've barely mentioned him before."

"Hm," Sirius said shortly. He'd kind of hoped that Regulus left their parents too. In the future, that is. Evidently, it was a hope that never panned out. "Well. That's who you remind me of," he said, throwing on a grin that he didn't feel but looked fine enough. "The hair might be Potter, but your face screams Black."

Harry laughed. "I've never heard that one before. I'll have to remember it when I get back. Ron will get a kick out of it."

"That your best mate?"

"Yeah. He's been with me through everything. Most everything," Harry amended, because there had been that spat during the beginning of the Triwizard Tournament.

"I take it that's an 'everything' I don't get to know about?"

"Yeah."

"I hope I handle it well while it's happening then. Since I know you come out of it alright," he said, nudging Harry with his elbow.

Harry grinned knowingly.

"Ugh, don't tell me I become a swot in my old age," Sirius groaned.

"Not at all. You're just protective."

"That makes sense. You're James's kid, after all. And you do have this air about you that says you need looking after."

"And so you offered me a smoke?"

"I've always been a rebel, even to my own instincts," Sirius said loftily.

Harry laughed again.

They quieted, and a chill wind stirred their hair.

"I've always wondered-" Harry started to say, then stopped himself.

"What?"

"I'm not supposed to ask questions that give you hints about my time. No matter how much I might want to know the answer," he tacked on with a mutter.

"Couldn't you ask me when you get back?"

"Like you'd tell me if I did. You're so evasive sometimes."

"I'm evasive, but what I'm more of right now is curious. Ask me what you wanted to know, and we'll keep it between us. I won't even tell James, and if you remember us from your time, I'm sure you realise what a unique offer this is."

Harry only gave a small smile. "You sure?"

"I don't know if you noticed that I didn't promise to answer," Sirius said with a smirk.

"Oh come on. I'm asking something I'm not supposed to ask, and you won't promise your favourite godson an answer?"

"I don't remember you being my favourite godson yet."

Harry put his hands together in a pleading fashion.

"Merlin, you look like Regulus. He used to use that face on me back before Hogwarts." And it had always worked. "Fine, what did you want to ask?"

"Do you fancy someone? As far as I know, you've never dated or- been interested in anyone."

Sirius clapped a hand on Harry's back. "Sorry to have to disappoint you, Prongslet." He got to his feet and stretched his arms over his head. Wow. As if it wasn't enough to know that he didn't end up with James, he had to learn that he never moved on. He stood on the sidelines and pined uselessly. Great. "I'm going back inside, and I get the feeling not to leave you alone."

Harry gave a faint smile. He knew that he'd overstepped, but there was no taking it back. Sirius didn't seem to be too upset with him, so he'd be grateful for that much at least. "Probably for the best."

*

"You feeling alright?" Sirius asked quietly. Everybody else was asleep. If they were smart, they would've casted a silencing spell around their curtains, but there was never any guarantee. Besides, Sirius didn't know if that etiquette was the same in Harry's time as it was here.

Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall had agreed to let Harry stay in their dormitory with them (if none of them minded, which, of course, they didn't). The house elves had brought up an extra bed for Harry to sleep in, so they didn't even have to come up with new sleeping arrangements.

"I thought you'd be over the moon that you and Evans end up together," he continued, when James didn't jump at the opportunity to tell him what was wrong.

"Yeah, I thought so too," James whispered back. "And I was at first."

"Then what's wrong?"

He reached up and ruffled his hair. He knew that Evans didn't like it when he did that, so he'd started stopping himself from doing it when they were out in the corridors or in class. "I'd been thinking about what you were saying. About moving on and dating someone else. Or at least looking at someone else. It had started to sound fun, y'know? Besides, she's a prefect and... tightlaced. I don't really know how much fun we'd have together." He breathed in, then out, sounding tired. Tired beyond the fact that it was late and in spite of there being no classes today, it had been a long day. "I guess it works out," he said, but he didn't sound convinced.

"It's just me here," Sirius reminded him, bumping their shoulders together.

"Lily's great, right? She's beautiful and smart, and she's definitely the catch of the school. I'd be totally lucky to date her. I was just really starting to believe that we weren't right for each other. I guess it's not sitting right because I was starting to accept that it was never going to happen. And- okay don't tell Harry this, but I don't think he looks that much like her."

Sirius nodded. "I was thinking the same thing."

"Right?" James said, invigorated by Sirius agreeing with him. "He looks like you!" He wasn't so excited that he didn't remember to keep his voice down, but the route he went made Sirius frown a little.

Yes, he'd thought that Harry looked a bit like Regulus, but he'd figured that was him projecting protective instincts and misplaced family feelings or whatever the fuck. "You think?"

"Are you kidding? You have the same smile."

"Oh well in that case, there's no one I'd rather raise a kid with," Sirius said, too honest but able to make it a joke with a smile and another nudge to James.

"Me either," James said, nudging him back with a grin.

Harry silently watched the exchange. He wanted to feel some sort of sadness or betrayal that James didn't want to be with his mother, but... well, he was starting to suspect that maybe Lily wasn't his mother. Lily hadn't looked very much in the photos like Aunt Petunia, but there had been a familial resemblance. He'd even been able to link it between Lily and Dudley, no matter how much he's sometimes wished he could unsee it.

He'd spent hours trying to find his own similarities to his family, and he'd never managed it. Not with Lily or the Dursley's, at least. Everyone said that he looked like James, and it was an easy connection to make. Mrs. Weasley had taken a picture of him with Sirius once, and every time he looked at it, he'd felt like he finally had someone he could call family. There were a lot of Black family members, weren't there? Maybe someone in his family tree was Harry's mother. It sounded ridiculous to say on its own, but it made more sense to him than Lily did right now.

He'd try to get some sleep tonight. He wasn't sure how well that would work, but in the morning, he'd see if he could learn more. He was supposed to go back to Professor Dumbledore's office in the morning to see if they could learn more about how to get him back to his own time. If anyone would know how to check who his real parents were, it would be the Headmaster.

His father and godfather had gone to bed a while ago, and there was only the sound of breathing to fill the otherwise silent room. He would've preferred if there was someone talking. Not necessarily Sirius, just somebody. He didn't usually have this problem. Ron had a tendency to talk in his sleep. They usually weren't fully formed words, just syllables that never went anywhere. He hadn't realised how much he'd gotten used to it in the Hogwarts dormitory until now, when it was gone.

He'd been pretty confident in his plan until then, feeling alone in the quiet of the room with people that barely knew him. Also that cigarette he'd smoked made him feel icky, and he didn't think it had gotten out of his system yet.

He wasn't sure there was anything to test. Everyone had believed him the second he said he was James Potter's son. When he'd said that his other parent was Lily, they had paused and looked closer at him before deciding to move on with their questions. He'd thought, originally, that it was because they couldn't believe James and Lily got together. Now he wasn't sure. In fact, he was sure that that had nothing to do with it. It's because he didn't look like her.

The only one that had accepted it straight away was James, and he'd changed his mind later, thinking that Harry didn't look that much like Lily. And with the way he'd been talking to Sirius, Harry wouldn't be surprised if Sirius was his other parent. Well, that's a lie. He'd be very surprised. Mostly because there wouldn't have been any reason for Sirius to keep it from him. Even if they'd had a good reason to tell the lie to begin with, there wouldn't have been any point by the time Sirius and Harry finally met.

None of this made any sense, and the people in this time couldn't even answer his questions; none of them knew why they would've lied, or the circumstances surrounding the things they could've possibly lied about.

He rolled onto his other side and sighed. Why couldn't his life ever be simple? He'd always thought that he knew his parents were, and he was pretty sure he'd been wrong about that. Did he have any proof? No, not yet, but he didn't really have proof that he was Lily's son, either. Everyone said it, but what did that mean in a world where he'd somehow been entered into the Triwizard Tournament under a fourth school that didn't exist, had magic that he hadn't known about for the first ten years of his life, and had time traveled decades, something he'd been told in no uncertain terms was impossible.

He woke up the next day, half expecting to find that he'd gone back to his own time without doing anything.

He sat up and looked around. Nope. Peter was doing his tie in the mirror, and Remus was walking around like a zombie. He glanced towards the other two beds and saw that their curtains were still drawn.

*

Harry went back to the future. He said gave goodbyes to everyone, but with Sirius, he hugged him tight like he never wanted to go. "I know it doesn't mean anything to you right now," he said quietly, as he was holding on, "but I love you. And I'm not mad." He'd given Sirius a squeeze before letting go, followed by a sad smile, and then he turned to go into the Headmaster's office.

Sirius didn't know how to feel about that as a goodbye. Sure, he didn't know Harry that well, so the preface of 'doesn't mean anything to you right now' made sense, but why had he been so sad about it? And for that matter, Sirius already knew that Harry was his godson. The love was pretty heavily implied. What did he mean about not being mad? What would he have been mad about? Maybe that's what he'd meant about Sirius not understanding right now. Of course, if that was true, then it didn't make sense why he'd said 'I love you' first. Maybe he'd done it because he felt it was more important than him not being mad. None of it made any sense to him.

He was sure he'd understand. It would only take ten years or so.

*

Well, it didn't take ten years, but Sirius finally figured it out. When he got pregnant. Pregnant and vulnerable, and in the middle of a war.

He was pregnant, and Lily looked him straight in the eye and said, "We'll tell everyone it's me."

"What?" he asked, numb and not wanting to jump to the wrong conclusion.

"You and James have been hiding your relationship because it's not safe. This won't be any better, and you'll need help. We can tell everyone that I'm the one who's pregnant, that way you're safe. When the war ends, we can be honest, but for now..."

This is why Harry had thought his other parent was Lily. They'd told everyone that she was. Something must have happened to make it where they couldn't tell the truth. Some part of the spell gone wrong or summat, and that was enough to make Sirius hesitate, but not enough to make him say anything other than, "If you're sure," because Harry did live long enough to be a teenager this way, and that wasn't guaranteed if he said no.

When he told James what Lily offered, all he did was hold Sirius and kiss his head. "If you're sure," he said, and Sirius laughed a little. He wasn't sure about this, but what other choice did they have? “Whatever you need to do to feel safe, we’ll do it. Anything for you, love, you know that.”

[gutsfics]

Pre-production

AO3 Link Fandom: Red Carpet Diaries Pairing: Thomas Hunt x Avalon (M!OC) Rating: General Audiences Length: 1,990 words Prompt: 2 - Person A being totally oblivious to the fact that they’re pregnant (bonus points if Person B has to make them aware of all the obvious signs) requested by @peonyblossom Notable Headcanons/Tropes: Trans!Thomas, Mpreg (by which I mean "pregnant trans man")

Summary: Did you know that testosterone doesn't make trans men infertile? Thomas didn't.

A/N: This takes place sometime in the middle of book 3. It's also an AU of my planned RCD rewrite, as the way I characterize Thomas and Avalon, I don't think that they would have kids. However I had already given them kids and gotten attached to them by the time I made that decision, so. AU. Also because this is an AU I can futz with my own canon for funzies! Baxter is the doctor mentioned in this fic despite them still being in their residency in Edenbrook in canon

They were supposed to be getting lunch.

Instead, they were still on set, watching Seth and Chadley run through a scene together.

Thomas tries to focus on the actors in front of him but his nausea was proving to be too much of a distraction to give them the attention they deserved.

When the scene ends, Macy turns expectantly to Thomas and Avalon. “Well?”

“You’re right on it not being quite where it needs to be…” Avalon begins. “I think… what the problem is… William’s been working for Ragnar his entire life, yeah? I don’t think he’d just be angry to find out what he’s been doing this whole time. He’d be hurt, he’d be upset, he’d be betrayed.”

Seth nods. “That makes sense.”

“What do you think?” Macy asks, turning to Thomas.

“I-” But before he can answer, a wave of nausea hits him. He launches himself at a garbage can set up near craft services, doing his best to drag the can away from the food while simultaneously vomiting into it.

“I didn’t think it was that bad,” Chadley says, and although Thomas can’t see his face with his head in the garbage, he can hear the hurt in Chadley’s voice.

“Damn, he beat me to the punch…” Seth complains.

“Don’t punch him! He might puke again!”

There’s a pause. 

“...No, Chadley.”

Thomas tunes out the conversation, trying to suppress the rest of his nausea. He feels a warm, familiar hand on his back.

“You alright, darlin?” Avalon asks, voice soft and full of concern.

Thomas nods. “I should be, I just-- uffh!” He lowers his head back into the can.

“Yeahhh… Macy, we’re gonna have to take a raincheck on lunch. I gotta get him home.”

“Right, of course, take all the time you need. Make sure he rests, and gets lots of fluids, and-”

Avalon raises a hand, stopping her. “I know how to take care of my own partner,” he states, a bit sourly. He gently scoops Thomas up, careful not to jostle him around too much. With a brisk nod to Seth and Chadley, he carries Thomas off the lot.

-

“You don’t have a fever, so it’s not the flu, I ain’t sick so it’s not food poisoning… Are you in any pain? Anywhere at all?”

“No, just a bit nauseous. It’s mostly gone now.”

Avalon rubs his chin, thinking. “This might be a long shot, but do you think maybe…” he trails off, shaking his head.

“What?”

“Could you be pregnant?”

Thomas blinks. That was a possibility he had not considered, one he didn’t think was necessary to consider. “I’ve been on hormone therapy for over twenty years; I haven’t menstruated since I was a teenager. There is no possible way I could be pregnant.”

“You’re sure? Completely and 100 percent?”

“I-- yes! The doctor that gave me the prescription told me it would make me inf-- that it would work as a contraceptive!”

“Take a test? Please? Just to cover all our bases?”

Thomas scowls, looking away. “If it’ll give you peace of mind, fine. I’m telling you now that it’ll come up negative.”

“Thank you. I ain’t expecting- nor wanting, necessarily- any particular outcome, I just wanna know why you’re throwing up.”

“...Okay.”

“Okay.” Avalon kisses his forehead. “I’ll go down to CVS and get a test. You’ll be alright on your own til I get back?”

“I’m just a little sick, that’s all. I’m not dying.”

“I’m allowed to worry about you.”

Thomas sighs, closing his eyes. “...Please be quick.”

“Of course.” Avalon kisses him gently one last time, then leaves him alone with his thoughts.

They had talked about wanting to talk about the possibility of having kids, but it never seemed like the right time to bring it up. Thomas would never say it out loud, but the idea that the decision would be made for them terrified him. If they were going to have kids, he wanted it to be a deliberate choice, one thought through and talked about. He knew Avalon liked kids, and had, at some point in his life, wanted to be a father, but with everything going on in their lives, their life…

Thomas wasn’t even sure if he knew what he, himself, wanted.

But he did know one thing.

He loves Avalon, and Avalon loves him.

And they would always be there for each other.

Well. He knew three things, then.

-

Thomas stares down at the pink and white stick in his hands- at the red plus sign that had appeared on it.

“Well?” Avalon asks quietly.

Thomas knew he knew.

He tips his hand, showing Avalon the result.

Unable to speak.

“...Oh.” Avalon breathes. “Oh. I knew it was a possibility, but…” he leans against the bathroom counter, shocked. “I didn’t really think-- I mean I did, but…”

“Maybe it’s a false positive,” Thomas says finally, voice raspy.

“False positives ain’t as common as false negatives, but if you think…”

“I think.”

“Okay… okay… We’ll do another one. Just to be sure.”

-

“I cannot believe you bought this many.”

“I thought that if there was a positive you might wanna double check. I wasn’t wrong,” he adds quickly.

“No, but…” he trails off.

The timer on Avalon’s phone goes off, and they both hurry to look at the small collection of pregnancy tests on the counter.

“Oh,” says Thomas.

“Oh,” says Avalon. “All positives.”

“Not all of them.” Thomas picks up the one negative.

“Darlin…”

“I know.”

They stand together in silence for a few moments.

“I have heard that there are certain kinds of cancer that can cause a pregnancy test to be positive,” Thomas says.

“Oh? What kinds of cancer?”

“...Testicular…”

Avalon stares at Thomas for a long time. “Baby… you don’t have testicles.”

“...Yeah.” Thomas sighs. After a beat, he asks, voice quiet, “What now?”

“I think… we confirm it with a gynecologist… and then… talk, I guess. It’s about time for it, anyway.”

“Right…”

They both look back down at the positive tests.

Thomas reaches out and gently touches Avalon’s hand. 

Avalon laces his fingers in Thomas’.

-

“-the looks of it, your baby is about seven weeks along-”

Thomas found it difficult to listen to what the doctor was saying, what Avalon was asking, to even breathe as he stares, dumbfounded, at the little… thing the doctor had pointed out, a lumpy round shape on the screen of the ultrasound machine.

His baby.

Emotion he couldn’t place wells up inside him, threatening to burst.

His baby.

A little blueberry, growing inside him. And he'd had no idea.

And then- he hears the heartbeat.

Oh.

That was his baby.

A sudden calm washes over him.

He reaches for Avalon- his lover, his lifeline- and squeezes his hand.

Their baby, he realizes.

He shakes himself out of his stupor and pays closer attention to the doctor.

“If you decide to keep it, you will have to go off testosterone and start on an estrogen treatment to ensure the baby can grow properly. Although, I must warn you, it’s not entirely common for transmen of your age, who have been on testosterone for as long as you have, to carry a child. There may be some… unforeseen complications if you choose to keep it.”

“How long do we have until the choice is… made for us?” Thomas asks.

“Ah…” The doctor clears their throat. “Until the fetus is viable, about 16 to 17 weeks along. But the sooner you decide for yourself, the better.”

“I see.”

“Do you have any further questions?”

Thomas shakes his head.

“Alright. Well, everything looks and sounds about how it should. Let me finish up here and you’ll be free to go.”

Once the doctor gives them an all clear, Thomas follows Avalon quietly out of the clinic.

They’re almost home before Avalon clears his throat. “So…”

Thomas twists his hands together in his lap. “You… once told me that you wanted to be a father.”

Avalon glances over at him for a moment before returning his eyes to the road. “Well… yes. But it was sorta… what I mean to say is… if you don’t want it, it ain’t necessary for me. I don’t have to be a dad, if you don’t want-”

“I want it. I want to keep this, to have a child with you. I knew it from the moment I heard it’s heartbeat.”

“Are- are- are you sure? The doctor said you’d have to take estrogen, I don’t want you to go through something that might cause you the kinda hurt you’ve worked so hard to escape.”

Thomas places a hand on Avalon’s thigh. “I’ll admit, the idea of childbirth has, previously… well, it terrified me. But I think… I am at a point in my life where I know it’s something I can handle.”

“And you… want this, want this? It ain’t just… pregnancy hormones giving you some kind of… baby fever?” He parks the car in their driveway and turns to face Thomas.

“I want this, Avalon. More than anything. Just as long as you want it, too.”

“I-- I do, Thomas. I want it, too. I wanna be a parent with you. But I don’t want this decision made just because I accidentally knocked you up, or because I blurted something out after a near-death experience. Just the other day you said you’d rather have cancer.”

“That’s not what I said. I said that it could be cancer.”

“It really sounded like-”

“I know how it sounded. I was… unsure of what I wanted, and I didn’t know how I would handle this decision being made for us without us talking it over.”

“Well, we’re talking it over now.”

“Yes.”

“And you’re absolutely sure that you want to?”

“How many times are you going to make me say it? …Are you hoping that I’ll change my mind? Do you want this?”

“Yes, of course! I just- I can’t believe-” he suddenly bursts out laughing. “We’re going to be fathers! Us! …Oh lord, there’s so much preparing we gotta do, so much stuff we gotta babyproof, we gotta-”

“Look at me.” Thomas takes Avalon’s face gently in his hands. We have eight months-”

“Seven and a half.”

"We have seven and a half months to get everything figured out. That is plenty of time to prepare."

"Are you sure we'll be able to do it?"

"Avalon, we've worked on movies with quicker turnaround than the time it will take for this baby to be born."

"But this isn't a movie, this is a baby. A person. Every decision we make will affect who our baby will become."

"Yes. And luckily for us, the most important choices we need to make right now are which room we should convert into a nursery and what books on parenting we should read. We don't need to jump in the deep end and decide what college our child will attend."

Avalon sighs, turning his head slightly to press a kiss against Thomas' palm. "You're right. I guess I'm just… worried. That we might screw up."

“That is a very real possibility, and an understandable worry. I’m not going to say that we won’t screw up, but-” he pauses, searching for the right words to say. “I don’t think it’s possible to not mess up when it comes to parenthood. No matter how hard you try, you can’t protect your child from the world, not in a way that’s healthy for them. All we can do is… our best. And hope that it’s enough.”

“Woah there. Our best? What happened to Mr Perfectionism?”

“Perfect doesn’t exist in people. Only the strive to be better today than you were yesterday.”

“You’re right…” Avalon smiles, visibly relaxing. “You have no idea how comforting it is to hear you say that.”

“I think I have some idea.” Thomas leans across the console and kisses Avalon tenderly. 

---

Tags

@choicesficwriterscreations - for Fic of the Week

Let me know if you would like to be added to a tag list, for this miniseries, these characters, or anything else!

[stiltonbasket]

art theif!verse LXC and NMJ and their gazillion kids. $2 says one of them is trans so some of the kids are their bio kids, and they adopt some. NMJ takes the kids to court to watch their dad kick ass and take names. Also NMJ making handmade wooden cradles, highchairs, etc.

“A-Die’s mad at that man,” four-year-old Lan Jingyi observes, peering through the glass walling off the courtroom and down at Lan Xichen on the floor below. “Papa, why’s he mad?”

“Your A-Die is angry because the hair combs in that collection were stolen from his client’s ancestral graveyard,” Nie Mingjue tells him. Xichen doesn’t look agitated yet, but that’s because he has a baby in his arms; Jueying still doesn’t do well being away from him, so Lan Xichen has taken his last several cases to court with their daughter at his side. “And the museum’s proprietors are not willing to sell or return any of them.”

“That’s bad!” Jingyi pipes up. “And that’s why Jiujiu steals them back.”

Nie Mingjue slaps a hand over his forehead. “A-Yi, hush,” he hisses. “You’re not supposed to know that.”

Jingyi blinks. “But jiujiu said it out loud when he took me to the bakery,” he points out. “There was a nice man there who gave us free soup, and jiujiu told him everything!”

For about the thousandth time that month, Nie Mingjue laments the fact that his primary role in Xichen’s art repatriation scheme (besides refinishing and disguising pieces of artwork, which enables Huaisang to sneak their loot offshore without detection) mostly consists of wrangling his younger brother and brother-in-law, both of whom take more risks in action than either he or Xichen are comfortable with.

“Wangji should be finished by now,” Nie Mingjue mutters, yanking his mobile out of his pocket and hitting the contact button labeled A-Zhan. “Sit tight and watch your A-Die, Jingyi. I’m getting to the bottom of this.”

--

Wei Wuxian was having a peaceful morning at Lotus Pier Bakery until the clock struck half-past ten, which was when sirens started blaring on the intersection just around the corner.

And when the sirens started blaring, Lan Zhan appeared.

(But this is how he usually encounters his maybe-crush, so it wasn’t exactly unexpected.)

“Lan Zhan,” he gasps now, as Lan Zhan walks into the bakery in a set of pitch-black heist clothes. “You can’t stay here, you’ll get caught, I don’t have anywhere to hide y--”

“Not necessary,” his friend dismisses him. He walks up to the counter like a prowling leopard, with a distractingly powerful stride that makes Wei Wuxian weak in the knees--and then he lays one hand flat beside the cash register and vaults straight over it, landing as gracefully as a cat before he tears off his black coat and mask and throws them to the floor.

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian chokes. The dark pants are the next to go, slipping down Lan Zhan’s legs to reveal a perfectly normal pair of slacks, and then Lan Zhan reaches into his abandoned thigh holster and pulls out a tiny screwdriver. “What are you doing, they’ll see--”

But Lan Zhan is looking at the refrigerated display case, not at him, and then he drops to the ground and unscrews the ten small screws that secure the long vent cover. Two seconds later, the vent cover falls free, revealing the dark space that contains the condenser coils and drainage pan--and then, with hardly a moment to spare, he sweeps his dark clothes under the display case and slaps the vent cover back into place, re-installing all ten screws and wrapping his arms around Wei Wuxian’s waist right before a black-clad police officer pushes his way into the dining room.

“Have you seen a man with a mask come by here?” he barks, casting a suspicious glance at Lan Zhan. “Or hear anyone running?”

“No,” stammers Wei Wuxian, as Lan Zhan turns his disconcerting golden gaze on the policeman and holds it until he looks away. “Um, now--now’s not a good time? Maybe check next door?”

And with that, the policeman turns on his heel and departs, leaving Wei Wuxian to slump against Lan Zhan’s shoulder and try to catch his breath as his friend begins to chuckle.

“What did you steal this time?” he demands. “Lan Zhan! You promised to wait for me!”

“I reclaimed sixteen square meters of twelfth-century brocade,” Lan Zhan murmurs in his ear, with a soft laugh that trails over his neck like a kiss. “But no one will be able to prove it, and the shipment should be on its way back home by the end of the day.”

The blood rushes up to Wei Wuxian’s head as Lan Zhan backs him up into one of the supply cupboards. “They could still be looking,” Lan Zhan explains. “I must make it convincing for them.”

It’s too much, Wei Wuxian wails to himself. Lan Zhan, you’re going to kill me!

Lost in the feeling of Lan Zhan’s arms around him, Wei Wuxian fails to notice the sound of a mobile phone ringing out under the display cabinet.

It is only later that Wei Wuxian discovers the consequences of that missed call, or how the police had managed to track Lan Zhan down in the first place.

[magniloquent-raven]

more trans billy fic! read my first two here and here (not necessary for context, but they are technically a series)

(cw: talk of past suicidal thoughts/suicide attempt)

~~

billy's never been with anyone who didn't ask about his scars.

if it wasn't their opening line—fake concerned bullshit, trying to get in his pants by pretending to care, it only worked on the days he was feeling especially low—it would always come up later. some people's idea of good pillow talk. like the fact that they'd stuck their dick in him meant they were entitled to his life story or something.

once, a guy made it a whole three weeks before he asked. he'd picked the dude up at a bar and kept around because he was good with his hands. then kicked him to the curb because he was shit at minding his own business.

everyone seems to think him wearing low-cut shirts that leave the twisting ropes of scar tissue over his heart on full display means they're allowed to pry.

everyone except steve.

they knew each other for months before they started dating, and he never brought it up. and now. he's seen all of billy's scars and he hasn't asked about a single one.

and billy's starting to wonder if he wants him to.

they're laying in bed together one morning, the sun streaming in through half-drawn blinds, dappled on the bedspread and lighting up the honey coloured highlights in steve's hair.

hair that's tickling billy's nose, but he can't bring himself to move. not when steve is so comfortably draped across his chest, breath warm against his collarbone, fingertips absently trailing up and down, caressing his side.

another first for billy, truth be told. he didn't date much before steve—wasn't really the boyfriend type—and the people he did date never did this. never wanted to just...exist together in an easy silence, sharing soft touches with no intent.

it should make him antsy, the stillness, the quiet, but he's found himself enjoying the lie-ins just as much as the mornings he coaxes steve awake with lazy kisses and a thigh pressed between his legs.

on really good days he gets both.

but today...today steve's lips trail down billy's chest, following the sunburst lines of scar tissue, and. billy stops him. with a hesitant hand on steve's shoulder. and steve looks up at him, a question in his wide brown eyes.

"you've never asked," he says after a moment, holding steve's gaze but shifting nervously.

"asked?...if you want to—oh god, did you not want me to—shit, billy, if you aren't in the mood you can just say so, i—" steve starts to pull away, scrambling, looking absolutely mortified, but billy shakes his head immediately and pulls steve back to his side wrapping his arms around his waist.

"not about that, jesus."

a relieved sigh ruffles his curls, and steve relaxes into his embrace, "alright, then...what?"

billy chews the inside of his cheek. "the scars, steve. you're not even a little curious?"

there's a pause. "what? i mean, i thought, uh...guys like you usually get, like, surgery right?"

"...you thought—" billy chokes on a strangled noise that's almost a laugh. "what, that i got my tits hacked off with a chainsaw or something?"

steve snorts against his shoulder, smushing his face further into the crook of billy's neck with a groan, "maybe? shut up. i dunno how it works, okay. didn't figure it was polite to ask." he shifts his weight around, wriggling into a position that lets him look at billy's face without detangling their limbs.

"ahh, country club etiquette, shoulda known." billy smirks at steve's eyeroll. "next time just ask, baby."

"okay." he worries at his bottom lip, brow furrowed, gaze darting between billy's face and his chest. he puts a hand over the worst of the scarring, palm flat over billy's sternum. "so..." his voice is soft, suddenly, hesitant, "what happened?"

he expects regret. irritation at himself. shame. he expects to feel himself closing off, second guessing his decision to invite the questions. but.

he covers steve's hand with his own. lets out a breath. lays there and feels nothing but the warmth of steve's body next to his, and a slight twist of trepidation in his gut.

"i was kind of. a fucked up teenager," he starts, and grimaces. "used to jump into any fight i could find. and when i was eighteen...i stumbled across...something. all i know is there was some little girl about to get kidnapped or worse, and i. well. i blacked out most of it, but. she got away. and i woke up in a hospital a few days later all..." he pauses, and gestures vaguely at his chest. "and there were all these people tellin' me it was a fuckin' miracle i survived, but..."

his blinks away the tears threatening to fall, turning from steve's wide-eyed concern, but steve puts a gentle hand on his cheek and guides him back. "but what?" he murmurs, brushing curls away from billy's face.

but he never wanted to wake up in the first place.

but every time someone told him what he did was brave he just got a little angrier, a little more bitter.

but no matter how much better staying at the hospital was, away from neil, away from max, always trying to be his sister, no matter how many times he told himself his life was better now, he still felt hollow and lonely and...

he's never talked about it. any of it. not with the shitty hospital-mandated therapist they assigned him when he was still bedridden. not with the psychiatrist he went to a few years later when he was trying to get prescribed testosterone. not with any of the friends he's made here.

he doesn't know why the hell he decided digging up this particular skeleton was a good idea now, but he can't exactly rebury it at this point.

steve's hand is warm and solid and his thumb keeps softly rubbing his cheekbone and making his heart flutter. and he supposes that's the why of it. love has made him an idiot.

he sighs. leans into steve's touch. "i hated it. all of it. there was this article in the local fucking paper and everything, about what i did, calling it heroic. and people constantly telling me i should be grateful to be alive but i didn't want to be." his breath catches in this throat, voice breaking, "i didn't save that kid to be a hero, i did it because i wanted to die."

steve makes a wounded noise, low in his throat. "billy..."

"i don't anymore," he says quietly. "i—it hasn't been that bad in a long time."

there's a moment. a pause. a silence that has billy holding his breath as steve watches him with a pinched frown, his eyes shining with unshed tears. and then he shifts, slips a leg over billy's and rolls on top of him, rustling the sheets and knocking the air from billy's lungs.

it takes billy a second to realize what's happening, that steve's buried his face in the crook of his neck again, but this time hugging him with his whole damn body.

"...steve?"

"m'sorry," he whispers, muffled and quiet, breath hot against billy's skin. "sorry i wasn't there."

billy's heart clenches. painfully, bittersweet, swooping like he's been dropped from a great height. he tightens his hold on steve's waist. "you're here now. and i'm okay." he pauses, and turns his face to rest his cheek against steve's dishevelled head. "better than okay."

steve hums. kisses his collarbone. slips his hands more securely under billy, wiggling til his palms are squished between billy's shoulder-blades and the rumpled sheets. "you're sure?"

"yeah, pretty boy. i'm good."

"...good enough to make me pancakes?"

billy snorts. "i can't when you're laying on top of me, steve."

"lies. i know you can lift me."

he snorts again, dissolving into helpless giggles that entirely ruin his ability to respond with a clever retort. steve lifts his head and meets his eye, smiling softly. he presses that smile to billy's mouth.

and they have their pancakes. later. much later.

[mischievouswritingblog]

Meta Essay: Medivh The Bisexual Icon

As of the time of this post, there’s going to be an update coming to World of Warcraft where the once all female ghosts in Karazhan will be changed to include male varieties as well.

Full details on the update can be found here: https://www.wowhead.com/news/female-only-ghosts-in-karazhan-updated-to-include-male-versions-324371

This has caused a lot of fun posts and people to take this as an ‘accidental confirmation’ by Blizzard that the character Medivh is bisexual. Pair this along with how some of his portrayal in Hearthstone was made into Warcraft canon, and in my opinion, it’s an excellent update to his character.

It’s no secret that Blizzard’s had a massive lack in LBGTQ+ representation for the longest time. Often when such subject matter did show up it was treated more as a punchline in some quests or was kept conveniently to the sidelines, with nonconsequential, blink and you miss it text, side characters, moments. It’s insulting, to say the least, and is the source of a growing frustration from the LBGTQ+ members of the audience. What’s more, whenever this frustration gets voiced it’s always talked down to. We are told that to ‘keep politics out of gaming’ and that we are too sensitive, when these are the same people that get bent out of shape when even a single thing changes or is called out in their game. It’s bullshit. LBGTQ+ people exist and the act of existing isn’t a political issue.

But of course, with people even making lighthearted jokes or posts of Medivh being a ‘Bisexual Icon’, there’s folks crawling out of the woodwork with reasons from “But the loooooooore!” (as if the lore isn’t constantly changing and being retconned from one expansion to the next) to “Well A-C-T-U-A-L-L-Y, those male guests were just for the female nobles that visited and attended his parties, Medivh was very straight”. To that, I’m going to say: “Nah, Medivh is a bisexual icon, deal with it”.

In my personal opinion, Medivh is an excellent character to explore queerness  with. He’s a character that’s been around since Warcraft 1 and the effects and ties from his story are still felt throughout World of Warcraft in various ways. Medivh is also a character that’s gone through a large amount of evolution and various portrayals. My personal favorite being the One Night in Karazhan take on him because it’s so different from the usual ‘brooding, grand powerful hermit-mage’ that his type of character usually is. Medivh in One Night in Karazhan is instead, vibrant and is a thriving social butterfly that loves to have and treat people to a good time. His reasonings for being this way make a lot more sense when you really think about what Medivh’s situation was.

Now, I have to mention that I do a much deeper dive and deconstruction of Medivh’s circumstances and just how messed up they were in this self indulgent essay/headcanon dump: ‘My Completely Self-indulgent Medivh Essay’. Feel free to give it a read but here is the basic gist for this essay:

Yes, Medivh was the Guardian, one of the most powerful mages to exist at the time. He was also possessed by Sargeras and was the one that created and opened the Dark Portal that brought the Orcs to Azaroth and changed Azeroth forever. But here’s the thing, Medivh had no choice in any of it.

To be the Guardian means you have to put your life on the line for Azeroth’s sake. This is a role that had to be kept to secrecy, people had to make a lot of sacrifices to be the Guardian. You gain phenomenal powers and it is a great honor but none of this was anything that Medivh ever asked for. He was literally born to become the Guardian, there was no other choice for his own future. 

Then you have Sargeras, he had his plans in play long before Medivh was even a thought. A sliver of Sargeras had entered Aegwynn (Med’s mother and the Guardian before him) from a battle between Aegwynn and his avatar. This influence hid within her and made its move when she decided that she wasn’t going to allow the Council of Tirisfal to choose her heir for her title and powers for her. Ignoring Chronicle’s softening of her, she used Medivh’s father, Neilas Aran, the court magician of Stormwind to sire a child. In TLG she let him know she flat out used him and felt nothing for him then came back later and tossed baby Medivh to him for free childcare. What neither of them knew at the time was that Medivh was possessed by Sargeras while he was in the womb. Sargeras would then screw him over even further by causing his powers to lash out when he was fourteen, causing him to accidentally kill his father and fall into a near 10 year coma, and wake up mentally and emotionally fourteen in a twenty-three-year-old’s body. So from the very beginning Medivh was always set up for failure.

So with this summary out of the way, the point of the matter is that Medivh is a character that had little autonomy for most of his life. His career and his fate were chosen for him from the start. Sargeras was in his head messing with him throughout his life, in TLG Medivh even tells Khadgar that he tried to fight it as much as he could. His story is a tragic one but with his reappearance in Legion there’s potentially a ray of hope.

I think there’s a lot of aspects in Medivh’s story that can tie well with the feelings and experiences of queerness. Not so much the being possessed by discount space Satan, but more so the struggle of trying to have autonomy and hanging onto who you are as a person. Being queer myself and looking at it through that lens, I see Medivh being vibrant and throwing parties as an attempt for him to seize what autonomy he could for himself. To exist, to be seen, and to have an identity of his own that had nothing to do with being the Guardian of Tirisfal. I think that it’s also something that separates Medivh from Sargeras. There were likely times where Sargeras may have forced the lines between them to blur as he gradually poisoned Medivh’s thoughts and twisted his soul throughout the years. Medivh likely had to struggle a lot with separating who he truly was from Sargeras. This being inside him, who wasn’t him but would at times take over his body suppressing Medivh’s true self. It’s a horror story where some elements can really hit close to home.

Medivh I believe surrounded himself with like minded, free spirited people like Barnes and the theater troupe (while there’s the joke Medivh’s only seen three plays, I choose to headcanon he’s a theater kid, given how he has a theater to begin with and his own love for theatrics). Whether you picture Medivh as aro, ace, gay, bi, pan, or trans, with the upcoming changes he clearly accepts many kinds of people into his home.

This also has the interesting effect of changing some of the tones for some events in his lore. One example being the titans sending down the Maiden of Virtue to punish Medivh and make him live a more ‘pure’ life. The Titans are Azeroth’s closest thing to a pantheon of gods. They are beings of order, having taken Azeroth in her rawest form and molding her into something they saw fit. Apparently, Medivh’s parties and behavior was seen as something that required ‘correcting’.

On one hand, it’s really easy to read it simply as Medivh being a selfish, spoiled brat. But with looking at it through a queer lens one can put a more positive spin on the situation. The Maiden of Virtue was sent to shame and punish him into conforming into something the Titans believe someone like Medivh should behave. It clearly didn’t work. Looking at this situation, one can read it as Medivh refusing to relinquish his identity because a ‘higher power’ wanted him to. In the real world there are so many that have to hide their orientation and gender thanks to people using religion and belief as a cudgel. So having a character like Medivh as queer, with the power and willfulness to flat out refuse and shut it down is a refreshing power move.

Medivh’s story and the way he is in general has elements that I believe many people of the LBGTQ+ can relate with. He’s a complicated character that has dealt with abuse and being forced into roles without his consent, he made identity for himself and it was stripped away by an oppressor (Sargeras), and, depending on if Blizzard decides he’s actually resurrected/alive instead of being a ghost, is a survivor.

So to me, I love the idea of Medivh being a queer icon in Warcraft. It hasn’t been officially stated by Blizzard at the time this essay was posted but it has started a fun conversation. There are and will be the haters who will scream and tantrum about the LBGTQ+ touching their precious (when convenient) lore with their filthy paws and tarnishing ‘their game’. But in the meantime, I’m going to continue having a blast with the idea and enjoy working the story potential it gives into fanfics, speculations, and essays.

If you enjoyed this essay, I did a few other bits of meta, headcanons, and speculation for fun: My Completely Self-indulgent Medivh Essay

A Bit About Wizards and Sorcerers

Headcanons: Medivh is Alive and Currently Uses ‘The Guardian’s Study’ as his Home

[adhdeancas]

if you're still taking requests he/they nonbinary sam and he/him trans man dean and 'i could not care less about pronouns' agender cas all being happy in the bunker when jack comes out to them as trans?

Love this 

and since you didn’t specify, I’m going to go with Jack comes out as nonbinary? Since that’s the general knowledge of his gender

(now part ten of my transnatural series,)

It starts at breakfast. Sam is tasked with making breakfast, since Dean and Cas spent all night watching every Rocky movie ever made, even the bad ones, and definitely including the Creeds. Thus, Dean is slumped over against Cas who is barely upright themself and they are both forbidden from operating near any hot surfaces. Dean already spilled coffee down his shirt so he is now shirtless and careful when he brings the mug to his mouth. 

Jack comes into the kitchen bright eyed and bushy tailed as always, the smell of turkey bacon making him smile wider. “Good morning!”

“Morning, Jack,” Sam grins back at him. Dean grunts. 

Cas offers a small smile and, “Hello, Jack.”

“Hello.” he turns to Sam. “What’s wrong with them?”

Dean’s too tired to even complain about being talked about like he’s not right in front of the kid. “Late night. Don’t worry, they’ll perk up later.” Cas raises an eyebrow skeptically. “After breakfast. And a nap. And maybe some adderall.”

Dean snorts at the joke but Jack doesn’t get it. He moves on anyway, unbothered as always. “Well, I was hoping I could call for A Family Meeting,” he announces proudly. The resulting silence is not exactly stunned but definitely confused.

“A what?” Dean picks his head off of Cas’s shoulder, leaving a wet spot on his shirt. 

“A family meeting. Maybe tonight, at dinner. I have something I want to discuss with you all.” 

Sam and Dean make eye contact over Jack’s shoulder, both their heartbeats picking up at the formal announcement. In their experience, in human experience, a big Talk is never good. Cas notices their tension and pushes himself up so she can go to lay a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “That sounds wonderful, Jack. Although if there’s anything wrong, we can help now.” It’s both for the sanity of the adults of the room and for Jack’s problem, whatever it may be.

Jack shakes his head with a smile. “No, that’s okay. I have to take a shower!” He’s out of the room without another word. 

Cas reaches across the counter to steal Sam’s mug (a mug Eileen got him that says “I love you more than Wifir”) and gulp down coffee, his own and Dean’s mug a whole six feet away. Sam waves a hand in exasperation before trying to steal it back, which leads to a staring contest with both of their hands on the mug. Sam wins by licking Cas’s hand and making him let go, a move which earns them a laugh from Dean, who taught him that move. 

The rest of the day is spent in relative quiet; Cas and Dean do go off to take a nap but they decide to take one outdoors because as Cas says “humans were meant to spend time in the sun every once in a while” and as Dean says “Cas wants to punish me for getting old by sleeping on the fucking ground after not-sleeping on a fucking couch.” Sam video chats with Eileen for a few minutes while she’s at a truck stop; she’s on her way to them after a hunt in Wyoming (which Dean demanded pictures of, he doesn’t think the state exists. It’s the only one in the contiguous US that they’ve never been to). Then he spends the rest of the day pouring over one ridiculously complicated spell that Rowena has assured him is worth the effort (it’s a surprise) but which has to be watched over for several days before it’s ready. It feels like a magic game of jack-in-the-box (no pun intended) to him. Jack spends his day in town with some of his townie friends, and they all miraculously manage to make it home in one piece this time.

Still, by the time dinner rolls around, Dean’s dragged himself away enough to put aloe on his new sunburn, his lack of shirt making his freckles and top surgery scars the only breaks in light pink from waist up, and start making tacos and fried potatoes. 

They’re all seated around the table, Dean and Sam getting nervous despite Jack’s reassurances that the Meeting is nothing bad. “What the hell could he have to tell us? We’re literally around him all the time.”

Sam shrugs and wipes their hands off on their pants again. “I dunno, maybe…” he tries to think of anything it could be, but with Jack’s 22-but-also-three-year-old thing going on, he has no idea what to expect. Cas comes back from fetching Jack, the kid in question smiling like a doofus. 

Cas sits down with Jack across from the brothers, one of their arms on his shoulder for support. “Okay, Jack, go right ahead with whatever you want to tell us.”

“And hurry up, because the food’s getting cold.” Dean says, more out of anxiety for this to be over with than concern about the food. Sam elbows him anyway. 

Jack pops a potato in his mouth first with a grin. Dean rolls his eyes. “These are very good. Okay, so! Remember how we talked about human conceptions of gender?”

They all nod. The conversation had been a memorable one, confusing both Sam and Dean when they got into the more complicated aspects of what gender actually means. In the end, they’d explained pronouns and dysphoria and told Jack that he could be whatever he wanted to be.

“Well, I don’t think I’m a boy!” he says it like it’s a grand reveal at a party, which, to him, it is. They blink around the table, Sam smiling gently to encourage him to continue, Cas tilting his head and waiting for more information, and Dean squeezing his arm over the food. 

“That’s awesome, kid, what are ya?” 

“I think I’m like Sam. Nonbinary?” he looks at Sam for clarification, and Sam nods. 

“Not a girl, not a boy, somewhere in between or outside?”

“I think I’m in between.” Jack says thoughtfully. He looks to Cas. “It seems strange, to identify with human gender since I’m only half-human, but…” it’s like he’s looking to his angelic dad for reassurance that it’s alright.

Cas grins. “Well, you’re only half-angel as well. I think you decide.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Dean asks, trying to seem casual. If it was him coming out right now, he’d be three seconds from heading for the door at any question, but… Jack’s not him. Jack wasn’t raised the same way. 

“Hm, I don’t know what there is to talk about really. I mean, I thought about it, and gender doesn’t really make sense to me, like Cas, so I thought I might have no gender for a while. But I also like the feeling of it sometimes? So then I thought about whether I was like Dean and I knew it wasn’t that, but I’m not like Mary either.”

Cas, Sam, and Dean look around at each other quickly, their pride barely contained. “Well, that’s awesome, Jack.”

“Yeah! We’re gender buddies! Matching gender!” Sam laughs and nods, their hair falling into their eyes, which covers up how wet they are.

“Does anything make you uncomfortable? Any term or word or clothing?” 

Jack looks at Cas with that head-tilt he’d picked up from them. “I like the word them for pronouns. I like how it sounds. Also I wanted to do something with history since I don’t have like… a lot of history.” they look momentarily sad. “I thought about doing xe and xem for a while but I kept forgetting.” they laugh. 

“No problem, kid. Is Jack still okay?”

“Yes.” they say confidently. “My mother gave me that name and we knew each other well. She knew it fits.”

“Cool.” Dean nods, out of questions. Sam jumps in. 

“We’re really glad you told us this, Jack.”

Cas nods and pulls him into a hug. “We’re really proud of you.”

“We love you a lot, kid.” Dean’s voice breaks in the middle of the sentence, and Sam reaches over to squeeze his shoulder. 

Jack hears the change in tone and looks up, concerned. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, m’fine,” 

Jack looks over and realizes Sam is sniffling too, and Cas looks like he’s about to burst with the emotions on his face. “Is this about the stuff you told me- that some people don’t like it when you’re not a boy or girl or when you change?”

Sam nods. “We’re just glad you know that’s not us, bud.”

“Well of course not. You’re my parents.” They’re suddenly taken over by a group hug, Sam and Dean come over to pile on top of them and Cas. They let the confusion of outsider ignorance roll off their back and revel in the love they have right here at home. After a few moments, their muffled voice says quietly, “Um, dads? The food is getting cold.”

And the spell is broken. It’s a normal family dinner.

[mashup-writing]

Somebody else by 1975 and it is sparkles-✨

It worked out well; Park Chaeyoung (Blackpink)

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Summary: Y/N and Rosé had decided to announce their relationship, but they were gonna be extra about it.

Requested? ☑

"I remember it all too well."

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It was the final part of Y/N's concert and while he's used to the feeling of thousands of eyes on him, what's going to follow was something that made him extremely nervous, which says a lot. Especially when he was counting on the audience for his plan to work.

At the start of his career, he had announced that he was a Transgender man on all of his social media platforms. An action that took a lot of guts, and and an action that drew a lot of attention to him. At the rising point of his career when he was questioned about it in an interview, his answer was something that made him well known figure within the industry.

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

"Now Y/N at the very beginning of your career, you told the world that you were a trans man. That must've taken extreme bravery on your part seeing as those people who are against your community- The LGBT community, can be downright nasty and ruthless in 'Expressing' their dislike. What mae you decide to do this so early on in your time in the spotlight?"

Y/N smiles in his seat, switching from a laid back posture to one that elegantly demands attention, his next words being the ones that made him an icon amongst allies and LGBT people alike. "I am an advocate of LGBT rights before I am an artist, at the very start of my career I wanted to make it clear that I didn't want bigots to be a part of my following or an avid listener of my music and while I'm a man who values my privacy, I value honesty and transparency just as much. So if you're someone who believes that transgender people are just 'Confused' or that they're a 'Crime' against nature? Then go ahead and consider me your worst nightmare."

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

Y/N had been sitting on a chair for quite a few moments now, holding a Q&A onstage before he stands up and decides to follow through with the first part of his plan. "Alright, now today's intermission, I'm going to do a cover of my most favorite song called 'Somebody Else by The 1975'. Oh and don't worry you guys, the Q&A will still continue after this cover." The stadium fills with loud screams and cheers from the people watching as he places his mic back on its stand and goes to pick up his electric guitar. The lights dim into a sunset red as the opening notes of the music fill out through the speakers, Y/N starts singing and playing his guitar as the crowd claps along to the beat.

At the start of the second verse, Y/N takes off his guitar and takes the mic off of the stand, walking back to the guitar stand, he puts the instrument down before walking back to the front of the stage and hyping the people up to sing along with him in the pre-chorus. The entrance platform that had sunk back down starts rising as a distinctly feminine voice fills the stadium at the start of the chorus. Y/N smiles widely as the stage screens show Rosé walking towards him, offering her hand. He takes it and raises their hands up, leading the Blackpink member into a twirl, the crowd has gone wild at this point and the duo are pretty sure that somebody or multiple people in the audiences are Blinks seeing the way they've started chanting Rosé's name even without Y/N introducing her beforehand.

The bridge part comes along and the two singers alternate their lines. When the instrumental hits, Rosé takes his hands and starts dancing along to the beat, dorkily smiling and roping the man into dancing along. When the final chorus comes, Y/N and Rosé sing together, motioning for the crowd to sing along and the stadium fills with the sounds of music and the combined voices of a chanting crowd.

The song comes to an end with loud cheers for the two vocalists who are now smiling widely while catching their breaths. Y/N offers his hand to Rosé and when she takes it, the two raise their hands and perform a bow. He lets go of her hand once they've come up from the bow, turning to face her before speaking. "May I introduce, Park Chaeyoung of Blackpink everyone."

The woman in question laughs, shaking her head before going to bow once again and waving to the crowd with both hands, Y/N decides to push his luck. "Also known as Rosé of Blackpink, or Rosie, or Foodsé, or Chipm-" He runs as she jokingly tries to swat at his shoulder.

The cheers continue and the two laugh with each other before Rosè speaks to the crowd. "So how did you guys like our cover?" She's answered with loud cheers and Y/N's manager signals at the two from behind the curtain, raising both his hands up. 10 minutes left, Y/N nods at him and smiles while Rosé turns her attention back to the crowd, he gives the singers a thumbs up with a dorky smile before taking his leave. Y/N shakes his head in humor.

"I'm pretty sure I'm speaking for both me and Y/N over here when I say that we're happy to see you guys loved it." Y/N turns to Rosé to agree with her statement. Y/N speaks into the mic saying that he and Rosé will spend the last ten minutes of the concert for the Q&A. The following minutes fly by with questions aimed at Y/N, questions aimed at Rosé as well as questions aimed at both come in droves, until Y/N announce that the next question will be the last one before the event comes to an end and they have to start saying goodbye. Multiple people raise their hand, and he leaves it up to Rosé to pick who gets to ask the final question. She gives her mic to a girl in the front row, and the girl states her question.

"How did you come up with the idea to have Rosé make a special appearance for a cover? Going by your latest Instagram posts before this album dropped, it seemed like you guys were writing songs together. So we were really hyped for a collab." The fan hands the mic back to Rosé who smiles at Y/N as he takes a deep breath, steeling himself for what's to come next. The Western singer brings his mic up to his lips to answer.

"There's a pretty good reason for this cover actually. 'Somebody Else' is a song that holds special meaning for the both of us, besides being our favorite song." Y/N motion for Rosé to take the lead, and she steps closer to him before speaking. "There was a point in me and Y/N's life that we didn't know where we stood. It a point we could sort of compare to the kid's game: Tag." She looks over to the man beside her, silently asking if he wants to back out of it. Instead Y/N takes her hand, interlocks their fingers and squeezes. Go on, I'm ready.

"Long story short is that I was hung up and broken hearted over this person and he was hung up over me." Collective gasps resound through out the stadium. After all, the only thing they know about you and Rosé relationship up until this point was that she was helping you write songs. You bring your mic up to your lips and speak. "The pictures on my Instagram of her looking at the lyrics I wrote? That wasn't Rosé helping me write. That was Chaeyoung reading what I wrote about her." The crowd goes crazy over the newfound information, and Y/N's pretty sure that they miss the way he referred to her using her real name instead of her stage name. But Chaeyoung catches onto it and she smiles softly at the man.

"I can't even begin to describe how thankful I am to Y/N by the way. Staying up countless nights and listening to me ramble on about being torn up, being there for me in every single way, helping me heal and doing all of this without expecting anything in return. Such a gentleman really." The crowd collectively 'Awwwwws' and Y/N hangs his head low, hiding his blush from everyone, Rosé laughs as Y/N looks at the ceiling, composing himself before speaking.

"I would never expect anything in return from you and you don't have to thank me either, I was just doing what a friend would've done at a time like that. Anyways, I stuck by her in those times all while all I could think of afterwards was how stupid the person who broke her heart was, all while I wished I was the one she had ended up with instead of them. I never even hinted at how I felt about her in those times, much less actually tell her. I promised myself I wouldn't tell her how I felt until the time was right. I didn't want her to feel guilty or pressured at all by what I had to say." Y/N looks from the crowd infront of him to Rosé before continuing "Time passed and her heartbreak had healed. But she still wasn't ready for a relationship for a while after that whole ordeal, so I kept my promise and I waited."

"When I had told my members and Y/N that I was finally ready for another relationship- That like, I was completely okay. Y/N decided to court me instead of asking me outright to be his girlfriend. Can you believe this sap?" The crowd laughs with Rosé as Y/N's jaw hits the floor, he walks away from Rosé and heads to the other side of the stage. He crouches and points to Rosé "I was being noble, chivalrous and mind you I was trying to prove that I was boyfriend material! Then she goes and calls me a sap?! I can't believe this..." Y/N lowers the mic and shakes his head in mock disbelief. Rosé doubles over in laughter before walking over to him and resting her free hand on his shoulder.

"Yes, I'm calling you a sap because you are one. But it worked out didn't it?" She looks down at Y/N before continuing. "I gladly said yes." The crowd goes crazy, people cheering, some were jumping, and the others were speechless.

Y/N smiles, a full smile from ear to ear as he takes Chaeyoung's hand on his shoulder to bring it to his lips. "Yeah, yeah it worked out well in the end didn't it?"

--------------------٩(◕‿◕｡)۶--------------------

A/N: Damn writing in 3rd person is a TASK. I might never do it again, I hope this was good enough? I'm not too sure about the ending but I liked the idea of them announcing their relationship infront of a crowd instead of doing it via a social media post. So yeah.

[kraviolis]

(this is for my rival streamers au)

“OHO! You rascal! You can’t get away that easy!”

Joshua squeals in delight, kicking his feet and waving his arms, as Dr. Coomer holds him high in the air. 

It’s adorable and yet super weird to watch your professor and your son having such a good time together. You find yourself smiling at them, something warm blooming in your chest. Dr. Coomer blows a raspberry into Joshua’s cheek and makes him squeal again.

“Those two seem to be… getting along.” Dr. Bubby says. 

He’s sitting across from you, sipping at a glass of red wine. You almost wish you could ask for a glass, wanting to really soak yourself in the warmth of tonight, but unfortunately you still have to drive home.

“Yep,” You lean forward on the table, crossing your arms to hold you up. “Dr. Coomer’s actually really good with him.”

Dr. Bubby raises an eyebrow. “Of course he is. Harold’s always been good with kids.”

His tone of voice makes you feel like there’s something deeper going on there but you aren’t sure if it’s polite to ask about it. You turn your attention back to Joshua. He’s being chased around the living room now, somehow running with the confidence of someone that’s been able to walk for far longer than just a few months. 

(Jeez, has it already been a few months since he watched him take his first steps? It feels like it was just yesterday.)

(You suppose you understand what your mother meant when she said you weren’t allowed to grow up when you were a kid, now.)

Still, you can’t help but wonder. What was the extra meaning behind what he’d said about Dr. Coomer being good with kids? Did… did they have kids? No, no that doesn’t make sense. Neither of them had known that Joshua couldn’t read yet or chew steak on his own, despite being only a year old.

“If you have something to say it, then just say it.” Dr. Bubby cuts through your thoughts. You look at them, a little embarrassed at being caught. “Seriously. I don’t have all night, you know.”

“Sorry,” You rub the back of your neck sheepishly. “If— If it’s okay to ask… Do you two have any kids?”

Dr. Bubby chokes on his wine, coughing lightly. “Hell no! I don’t want a bunch of sticky-handed stupid little babies who can’t even read running around! I already have to deal with teaching at work- I’d fucking explode if I had to do it at home, too!”

“Yeah, no, that’s— that’s fair.” You don’t think you appreciate the implication that your son is stupid, but you shrug amicably anyways. He’s got a bit of a point.

“Besides, even if I wanted kids, neither of us can actually have any.” He admits and you frown sympathetically.

“Oh. I’m… I’m sorry to hear that.” 

“Eh, it’s whatever. Never bothered me before.” He waves a hand, as if clearing away any attempt at compassion directed towards him. 

Dr. Bubby pauses, though, and sighs. Their eyes become downcast and they stare at their wine as they swirl it gently in the glass. 

“It’s never bothered me, but… Harold, on the other hand...”

You wait patiently, letting Dr. Bubby continue at his own pace. You glance over briefly and see Dr. Coomer investigating the living room bookshelf with Joshua, showing him the various knickknacks adorning the shelves. He tells him to be gentle and holds out a glass figurine, not letting him hold it but just allowing him to run his tiny fingers across it.

“Harold’s always wanted kids,” Dr. Bubby continues, his voice far softer than it has been, drawing your gaze back. “Long before we knew each other. Long before he even knew himself. But life… life is cruel, Gordon. Life doesn’t care about you, it doesn’t care about your dreams. And sometimes, you have to make choices that no one should ever have to make.”

Dr. Bubby’s hand is trembling in… what seems to be anger. He notices, shakes his head, and knocks back the last of his wine before sitting back and scowling at the table. You’re confused, unsure of what exactly he means. You go to say as much but pause when he looks up and meets your eyes. It’s like a shadow is blanketing their face, something from deep inside rising and making itself known in their eyes.

“Back then people like us, like me and Harold— sometimes we had to choose between having a family of our own or a chance to be ourselves. Harold was told he couldn’t be given hormones without also getting a hysterectomy. The risk was too great, they told him.” They growl, baring their teeth. You notice absentmindedly that his canines are sharper than they should be. “What a load of shit. They didn’t even know if there was a risk! You know how many studies have come out since then proving those bastards wrong?”

You open your mouth, trying to make sounds but it just isn’t working.

You… you hadn’t known. Not just about what your professor had gone through at the hands of medical institutions so long ago but also that Dr. Coomer and Dr. Bubby… they’re like you. 

(You feel a completely unexplainable comfort just knowing this, now. And a terrible understanding of what Dr. Bubby means by having to make an impossible choice.)

“I… yeah.” You manage to say, eventually. “I probably read through every study about that stuff when… when I first started transitioning. That’s… God, I— I can’t even imagine being forced to make that choice.”

Bubby narrows his eyes sharply. He circles a finger around the rim of his glass and you have a sudden but distinct feeling of being thoroughly examined, all of you on display and ready to be judged. He squints more intensely, tilts his head, and then relaxes again. 

...Test passed, apparently.

“...Of course you are.” He mutters, crossing his arms. “Right. Should’ve guessed.”

You quirk your lips, half-smiling. “Trans people tend to gravitate towards each other, I’ve found. Even unknowingly.”

Dr. Bubby barks out a laugh, throwing their head back. “Ha! That’s more true than you know, but that’s a story for another time.” He nods towards the living room. “Looks like someone had a little too much fun, over there.”

You blink and then turn. You find Dr. Coomer and Joshua on the couch, your professor snoring away while Joshua is still wide awake, sitting in his lap and tapping randomly on your professor’s phone. You laugh quietly, watching the scene fondly, and see Dr. Bubby looking on with the same dopey expression in the corner of your eye.

“...It’s getting late. I should get going before Joshua starts getting overtired.” You groan as you stand, stretching. Dr. Bubby follows you with a more grumpy groan. “Should— should we leave him asleep?” 

“No, no, he’ll want to say goodnight. Also, he’ll fuck up his back if he stays there.” They say. “You get your shit. I’ll wake him up.”

You gather everything up, grabbing whatever toys you brought and stuff it all back into Josh’s diaper bag. Dr. Coomer wakes back up thanks to his husband poking his face hard enough and quickly saves himself from being locked out of his phone for too long. You pick up Joshua before he can complain about losing his new toy.

Dr. Coomer walks you out, smiling sleepily and waving goodbye to both of you. You thank him for having you over.

“The pleasure is all mine. It was a delight to have you and your boy over for dinner, Gordon.” Dr. Coomer insists.

“No!” Joshua wiggles in your arms, making a sad noise and grabby hands at your professor. He chuckles warmly and lets Joshua grab his fingers, giving him a small handshake. 

“We sure had a blast tonight, eh? But you’re still growing, and you need your rest.” Joshua’s lip wobbles and Dr. Coomers expression falls. “Oh, dear, please don’t cry. Keep your chin up. Goodbyes are tough, I know, but you’re even tougher.”

He punctuates this by pushing Joshua’s chin up gently with his fist. There’s a softness in the gesture that makes your heart melt. Unfortunately, it doesn’t do much to prevent Josh’s eyes from starting to glisten.

“Hey, it’s okay, Joshie.” You smile at Joshua, getting his attention. “We can come back and visit next week! But you have to ask if it’s okay first.” 

You look at Dr. Coomer in time to see his expression brighten at your words. Joshua turns to look at him too. 

“Pease?” He asks, not quite able to say the word, but it still makes your professor’s eyes mist up anyways.

He kneels down to look up at Joshua, taking his small hand in his much bigger one with a touching amount of gentleness. 

“I would love nothing more, my dear.”