#america mpreg

[tvisnoton]

Oh yeah merry Christmas and happy holidays

Got my wisdom teeth removed and this is all I’ve been doing.

[khloxxy]

Reference

[tyrialsofficial]

Cw: Mpreg/Male Pregnancy

Recently somebody requested a drawing of Captain America

I had way to much fun working on this, but anyways....lol Here's the finished drawing :3

[impishtubist]

Another thought for my USians: if you aren't someone who keeps a physical journal/diary, I would start doing so now. I'm a terrible journaler, but I've been a terrible journaler since I was a teen, and as a result I have notebooks filled with random ramblings about my life and politics since I was a kid. It is going to become so important to have these physical records of what is going on right now, both on a personal and political level, in the future. Things that are kept on the Internet can be wiped out or altered (and if you kept an actual journal on LiveJournal, I would print that out). AI is already being used to make up facts-who's to say that this period in history won't become severely warped because of AI? Also, someday the only trace of you and your existence and what you're feeling right now might only be found in a notebook discovered in a box in someone's attic.

Also it might be cathartic. Anyway, journal your way through the apocalypse.

[moonythejedi394]

oh you liked how in my fic for him. bucky didn't fall from the train well what if he did?

His phone buzzes. Steve picks it up and sees a text from Hill, then another one comes in. They’re both phone numbers. The first one is Becca’s and the second is Benny’s. Benny’s name is still Barnes, but Hill’s text has Becca’s last name as Proctor. Steve exhales, then he calls Becca.

It rings for a long time. Steve bites his lip.

“Hello?”

Becca’s voice is rough and cracking with age, but it’s her. Steve exhales heavily.

“It’s Steve,” he says quietly. “Hi.”

There’s silence for a moment.

“What flowers were at your wedding?” Becca asks. 

Steve smiles, bittersweet, but it’s just like Becca to be suspicious. “Red carnations and daisies. Bucky had a daisy in his lapel,” he adds. “Your ma did all youse’s hair with daisies, too. And you and Betty had matching dresses, little cap sleeves and empire waists and a bow in the back, and your ma bought both of you a pair of kitten heels, even though you were only eight, they were yellow with bows, too. Benny had a dress with a big poofy skirt and she kept grousing about it, even though she tried to get me to wear a wedding gown with a poofy skirt. I let Benny pick the color of your dresses, though. She picked pale yellow because she was obsessed with lemons back then. The wedding cake was lemon because of her, lemon and lavender.”

“Steve…” Becca exhales. “Is it really you?”

“Yeah,” Steve whispers, trying to hold back sudden tears. “Becca, Bucky – Before he – Before –”

“What?” Becca asks gently. “What did Bucky do?”

“‘M pregnant,” Steve confesses.

“Oh, my G-d,” Becca whispers. “Oh, my G-d. You’re pregnant?”

“Three months,” Steve then tells her, his voice almost breaking. “I’m about three months in.”

“Did Bucky know?”

Steve lets out a watery sort of laugh. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah. He – He said I could go on one last mission, the mission to get Zola, then he was gonna tell Colonel Phillips and get me discharged. We didn’t know for sure, but…”

“Oh, Steve,” Becca murmurs. “Where are you, honey?”

“Brooklyn,” Steve whispers. “Bedford-Stuyvesant,” he adds.

“Okay, honey, I’m gonna come pick you up, alright? I got a spare bedroom, you can have it. Bucky wouldn’t want you to be alone. What’s your address?”

Steve bites his lip hard, fighting back tears. But she’s right.

“Alright,” he mumbles, then recites the address for Barton’s apartment building. “I don’t have a lot of things right now,” he says. “I – I, uh, I’m trying to get the Smithsonian to give back all our stuff…”

“I heard your collar got taken out of the exhibit,” Becca says. “You have it?”

“Yeah,” Steve answers. “I had to get a new key fitted for the lock. Buck–”

He can’t say it. Bucky had had the key on the chain that held Steve’s dog tags. It had fallen with him, to be forever entombed in stone and ice.

“It’s okay, honey,” Becca tells him. “I won’t be long, just an hour. Have you got a nest set up yet?”

“No,” Steve admits softly. “I – I want –” His voice cracks and he swallows. “I want my nesting stuff. It’s all in the Smithsonian. They’re saying it all belonged to some Omega I collared.”

“I’ll sic my grandkids on ‘em,” Becca says. “What have you eaten today?”

Steve groans and drops his head back against the wall. “Protein bars,” he mutters.

“Anything else?”

“No.”

“Bucky’s gonna come back from the grave and take a double-folded belt to your ass if you don’t start taking better care of his property,” Becca offers kindly.

Steve laughs a little again, then wipes tears from his eyes. “You’re right.”

“What have you got other than protein bars?” Becca asks.

“Protein shakes,” Steve sighs.

“Oh, boy, Bucky’s rolling in his grave.”

Steve almost laughs. He squeezes his eyes shut and takes a shaking breath.

“If you need to cry, you should,” Becca says. “It’s good for you.”

“Call me when you get here,” Steve murmurs. “I have to pack.”

“Alright. Just an hour, big brother.”

[aph-america]

i love what yall draw on my straw page I swear 🥹🥹🥹 keeping sending me cute amerus and mpreg roshi

[unhetalia]

i think in an mpreg universe america would have three kids— one from england, one from russia and one from japan. he adores his babies, each sinilar to their fathers but with vastly different personalities. they were headaches to raise from infancy all by himself but now as toddlers they are the sweetest little angels (only around him btw. around their fathers/other nations these angels turn into straight devils)

(imagine alfred bringing them to a meeting just because his usual babysitter called out sick and he couldnt find someone else on such a short notice. the chaos that would create would be hilarious)

I mostly have Al having kids with whoever I am shipping him with, so I don't tend to have a scenario similar to yours where he has kids from different Nations. I love it, though, and love the kids behaving for Al but not their dads. How did he end up with children from these Nations? Is it sexual or like... to do with land?

For me it's more like, depending on who I'm shipping him with, he has [insert how many] children, [inset gender and insert personalities], [insert how it happens]. A lot of the time, as I mentioned, I really like going the miracle route, so that tends to limit things, but I do also like thinking about bigger families.

For UKUS, the miracle route will be one son, named Asher Kirkland. Miniature Arthur in terms of looks. Sturdy and strong like baby Al, but to a lesser extent. More of a homebody, quite attached to Al as a kid, and wants to be just like his father (Arthur) and do important work for the government.

If it was ABO, or a universe where mpreg is common, they repeat history and have four boys, to Arthur's endless consternation (who wanted at least one girl). Asher, Adam (loud, rambunctious, high energy), Andy (most interested in magic) and Adrian (bookish). All Kirklands.

With Russia, miracle verse is a baby named Alexander. I never quite know what last name they'd go with. Ivan calls him Sasha, Al calls him Ally. He's very shy and quiet, and really affectionate with both his parents. He loves reading and writing. In non-miracle verse, Alex is an only child for a long time - he gets a sister at the age of 14-15, named Alina, who is vibrant, chatty, and brimming with energy.

With Germany, we get twin girls in both universes! Abigail and Mathilda Jones (Abby and Maddy). The girls are opposites, with Abby being more adventurous and a tomboy while Maddy is more feminine and interested in dolls.

I've never thought of Al having a child with Kiku because my headcanon for them tends to be so sad, but if they did have children there would only be one - a son named Shinichi, who takes after Japan very heavily including wholehearted adoration for Al.

I tend to see Al as having more than one child (in miracle-verse I could even see him adopting), if he can help it. Maybe it's to compensate for his own loneliness growing up, or for having siblings he adored but didn't get to spend as much time with? Whatever the reason I do think he'd want more than one.

Anyway, this was fun! I'm not married to the kids' personalities just yet, but the amount and gender is pretty set for me, though I can see Russia and America having another girl.

[myaoiboy]

Death Stranding gender talk you say? Count me in.

Oh, I'm so glad someone asked about MPreg: A Hideo Kojima Game :3c

I'm going to put a quick CW in here for a medical-setting image of an umbilical cord. It's pretty mild, but I think doing side-by-side images will be helpful for illustrating what I'm talking about. Also, big spoilers for anyone that hasn't finished the game, obviously

Literally everything in Death Stranding is so very tied to parenthood and especially the pregnancy and birth parts. Yes it's technically a metaphor for the creative process but also it's, uh, incredibly visceral. So I'm gonna start here with Sam, but damn everyone in this game has some gender going on.

Can we talk about how Bridget chose the same name for both her other half/fictional daughter AND for her adopted son? I feel like not enough people mention the fact that "Amelie's" "real" name is Samantha America Strand, and everyone just calls her Amelie. Maybe because it's fucking weird to have two kids named Sam and Samantha?

The fact is too, that the two Sams aren't the only ones with gender-ambiguous names in the game...we don't know Lou's gender until the very end! The use of gender-ambiguous names for the only two main characters that you as the player can actually interact with feels hella meaningful.

In fact, the game intentionally lets us think that Lou/BB is a boy for most of the game! Cliff refers to his BB as "him" in one of the first cutscenes we see of him, very early on. The game also lets us believe, for some time at least, that there's a chance that the memories are BB/Lou's, and that Lou is Cliff's baby. We don't know this isn't true until near the end of the game! Why didn't any of the characters point out this contradiction before then? I'm not sure, at least not yet. Very open to thoughts on this. It doesn't feel like the MO of the game to have a gender reveal at the end for shock value.

Anyways, let's get in on point one obvious: like I already said, this is an mpreg game. There's...there's no way around it. A dudes carry a fetus attached to them by an umbilical cord (which they make VERY viscerally look like a real umbilical cord btw, between the color/texture/the additional cable along the outside).

I feel like "haha it's the mpreg game" has probably been done to death but I love it so much specifically because of the implications that it makes and the puns that it plays on.

Sam is a delivery man. He's called "The Great Deliverer" or "The Man Who Delivers." And the last scene of the game, the last line before we flash-back for the postgame, is...?

Literally childbirth! It's...delivery. It's Sam delivering his own child, after making a trek by foot across the continental US carrying a difficult pregnancy. "The Man Who Delivers" is a double entendre throughout the game, just like "strand" is ('strand' like rope or hair, 'strand' as in a portion of a larger network, 'strand' as in stranding, like the beach, etc).

So like, what the fuck, right? Why do we have Mpreg: Hiking Simulator? What the HELL is going on in there?

So. America, right?

If there's anything Kojima really loves to talk about, it's America. American identity, imperialism, national myth, etc. Death Stranding is just the most recent and blatant of these. And, of course, one of the most popular American Myths are the story of the founding fathers, right up there with manifest destiny.

So we have this game where Sam is both literally becoming a father after carrying a surrogate pregnancy, and also metaphorically becoming a father by re-founding America. In that way we can see, through his experience of pregnancy, the trials of (re-)founding America.

Okay, great, cool, Sam is a male mom, wonderful, so glad that technology has progressed to this point, we stan. Maybe we don't stan the use of American nationalism as a tool so much but look at the healthy baby glow <3.

But I also want to contrast this with the only other BB we really see in the game. Yeah, baby, it's Higgs time!!! And I am going to make a comparison that is going to seem batshit insane. Bear with me:

I was skeptical myself when I first saw this comparison, but I've been converted into a believer for a few reasons.

The visual. While imo it wouldn't be enough on its own to make a case, I have to admit that his hood is similar to some popular depictions of Mary

Higgs is literally a male prophet of a goddess of extinction. He essentially considers himself her messenger,

While Sam gets his BB from another person, and it's also a live fetus, Higgs gets his from Amelie, as how god gives mary jesus immaculately

Much like Amelie's reveal that her "soul is a lie," the "baby" that she gives higgs is a twisted effigy. He carries his god(dess)'s physical form, but as she is a goddess of extinction with no remaining soul of her own, it will never grow.

i'm willing to believe higgs is a virgin, for the bit.

Okay okay I gotta stop for now because it's 1 AM but like, consider it, mayhaps.

[snazzyerin]

just a happy little steeb :]

[fireandspiceland]

post contains: cardverse, omegaverse, mention of mpreg, like… planned/allowed infidelity (?)

completely different concept than the stuff I usually talk about but alas here we go omega cardverse where Arthur is the omega queen and Alfred the alpha king of Spades, the people love them, the other royals and ruling parties of other kingdoms respect them, everything could be oh so nice and perfect if it wasn’t for the biggest hidden secret of the Spadian monarchs: their king isn’t the alpha they think, but a beta and hence unable to reproduce.

The only alpha anywhere close enough to the king and queen of Spades is the king’s younger brother Matthew, who had been rather shy compared to Alfred, always staying in the background and had therefore been presumed an omega, as opposed to his outgoing brother who everyone assumed to be an alpha who would lead the kingdom. With their roles having been drilling into the brothers since their early childhood there was no way their true presentation could be made public. So Alfred inherited the crown, married the queen,… but would never have the ability to properly deal with Arthur’s heats let alone gift the kingdom a heir.

And for these reasons the secret surrounding the rulers of the Kingdom of Spades is that Arthur’s broken cries for an alpha, the moans of pleasure filling the castle’s halls, and even the unborn life growing inside him aren’t Alfred’s, they all belong to Matthew.

[mpreg-ask-blog]

Angel, I don’t know if you’ve answered this before, but are you laying eggs or having a live birth? Also, do you plan to have a natural delivery or c-section?

Angel: I’m having a c-section. And it’ll be a live birth. As much as I would like to have eggs rather than get cut open (not really). But yeah, that's what’ll happen.

[darthbloodorange]

Treaty Solution

Rating: Teens Universe: Marvel Cinematic Universe Pairings: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark Characters: Steve Rogers, Tony Stark Warnings: Swearing, Implied Sexual Content, Mpreg (Sort of? I Guess?), Eggpreg, Xenophilia Major Tags: Canon Divergence AU, Different First Meeting AU, Crack Treated Seriously, Humour, Pre-Relationship, First Meetings, Interspecies Relationship (Not between Stony), Aliens, Tony Stark is So Done, Frustrated Tony Stark, Steve Rogers is a Little Shit, Steve Rogers Gives 0 Fucks (Well… He gave one and now has none 😂), Implied Bottom Steve Rogers, POV Tony Stark Word Count: 500 - Quintuple Drabble

Summery: That's it! Tony hates Captain America. He just met the guy, and he's nothing like the old war stories. Captain Rogers is just pure trouble.

For the: ✦ @tonystarkbingo Round 8 - Interspecies [Adopt]

Read below or on AO3 >HERE<

Tony paces, wearing a hole into the tile of the spaceship's sleeping quarters. His hands, tightly clenched, are kept firmly in his pockets. He's sure he'd start pulling his hair out otherwise, and he has an image to maintain.

Hell, how was he going to break this situation to Fury?

It was meant to be a difficult mission, yes. But fairly straightforward.

Meet the horrifyingly tentacled aliens that had shown up in their solar system. Treaty for peace. Return home, alive.

The aliens supposedly asked SHIELD for Earth's mightiest. Shield sent him and Captain Fucking America.

Tony doesn't know if the Captain America they sent him was the real deal or if SHIELD just sort of synthesized him in a lab. But he hopes it's the latter. Because this one is broken. Well, not broken... But... well...

Tony sighs, his whole body sagging. "Fuck..."

How do you tell the not-just-a-little terrifying head of a sketchy organization that you've been developing weapons for that you kind of impregnated their Captain America? Well, not him, personally. He didn't put the eggs there. But he didn't know that he had to make sure Captain America didn't go and breed with the potentially hostile Alien race they were trying to broker peace with.

Maybe he was wrong, assuming the guy was xenophobic, not xenophilic... But who'd blame him?

Tony pulls his hands out of his pockets and buries his face in them. Letting out a muffled scream.

Fury's going to kill him. Maybe Fury wouldn't do it himself... But his death warrant was signed. Maybe Fury would get that hot redhead to do it? That might be nice. Give him something pretty to look at while he goes. With his luck lately, it'll be Agent Coulson.

Tony takes several slow breaths that do nothing to settle his nerves.

Maybe he could just send Cap back to Fury and let him find out in 9 months time what happened.

...But the guy already looks 6 months along.

"Relax, Tony," The offending individual says from his stretched-out position on the bed.

Tony glares at him. "No. Nah. Uh no. First name privileges have been revoked."

Captain America rolls those damn pretty blue eyes of his. "Sure thing, Mr. Stark."

'He will not strangle Captain America! He WILL NOT strangle Captain America!!!'

"God, don't- Don't do that either. 'Mr Stark' just reminds me of my dad."

Cap just shrugs, nuzzling his face into the pillows. His right hand rubbing over the large swell of his belly.

Tony looks away, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling rising within him.

"You know, you could look just a little bit concerned about this whole situation," he says.

"We secured the treaty. Everything is on the up and up."

"It's not! Or have you forgotten the eggs in your gut?"

"I don't mind it."

"I hope it's not a chest-burster. For both our sakes."

First week of knowing Cap, he'd thought they were going to get along surprisingly well.

God, Tony hates him.

THE END

[biillys]

no context cos who needs that. anyway. love it here. thanku @ breaking bad for letting me borrow ur villains.

anyway. here's some billydaryl becos i'm feeling brave and also becos i can.

“you bring your kid with you to fuckin’ deals?” the guy spits at him, throwing his cigarette on the ground and stomping on it.

billy feels his heart stop and slowly backs away from him, making it a few steps before fucking bolting for the truck. when he makes it, he yanks the door open and finds sunny sitting up in her seat, a piece of paper on her lap and pen in her hand, and a fucking snackbox of chicken nuggets and fries sitting beside her. 

“hi, daddy. are we going yet?” she asks, smiling up at him.

billy feels relief flood his veins at seeing her safe, then fucking dread and paranoia take over, slowly turning back to face the stranger who now not only knew he had a kid with him, but apparently got close enough to give her colouring in, to fucking feed her.

“what do you want?” he asks, swallowing thickly, suddenly feeling heavy. 

the guy gets up close and personal, stepping right up to his face. “i want you to sort your shit, and stop bringin’ her on fuckin’ drug runs.”

billy swallows again, his mind going a mile a minute, trying to get his head around the fact that there's now four entire people in the world that know about sunny’s existence. billy, todd, sunny herself, and now this random stranger from the parking lot of one of todd’s buddies bar. fuck.

billy looks at him, feeling his eyes fucking well up. “i can’t,” he breathes out. wants to yell at him, ask him if he thinks he fucking chose this.

“can’t? or won’t?” the guy asks, his leather vest catching the streetlight. 

billy closes his eyes and clenches his fist, quickly turning to look at sunny who’s watching on apprehensively, before turning back. “i can’t,” he pushes out, voice cracking. “i don’t have a fucking choice.”

the guy steps back slightly, his face going from angry to slightly worried, still mainly angry though. he flicks a look over billy's shoulder to sunny, before focusing back on him. “you one’a jack’s crew?”

billy’s blood freezes. he takes his own step back and feels his back hit the truck door. no one that knows jack or todd is someone billy can trust. this guy’s probably already got his hand on his phone, ready to call billy’s personal monster the second he floors it out of here. 

he doesn't respond.

“todd’s a piece of shit, get a new fuckin’ job, man,” the guy eventually says, giving billy another look before turning to walk away. 

billy watches him leave, eyes glued to the angel wings on the back of his vest. 

he has no fucking idea what just happened, but he thinks he might actually be safe. with the way his face twisted whwn he said todd’s name, billy doesn't think the guy's gonna rat him out about meeting sunny. not that billy thinks todd will care, since he’s the one that made billy bring her in the first place, but it wouldn’t be the first time todd’s put him between a rock and a hard place and expected miracles.

the next week, billy triple checks the carpark before leaving sunny.

“we don’t talk to strangers, we don’t take food from strangers, and we don’t get out of the truck,” he repeats, hand on the door handle before turning to look at her one last time. “i’ll be back before you know it, okay, just stay down.”

sunny stares at him, face scared.

he holds his pinky out and waits for sunny to slowly interlock her own with his, then shakes.

“okay, daddy.”

he swallows, gently tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear, before pushing himself out of the truck. 

inside, he deals with the usual crowd, giving ceaser his stock then handing out merle’s and axel’s. gives phillip’s and joe’s theirs, too, counting out the money they paid him, then finally, he splits.

he makes it two steps out of the bar before noticing the guy from last week. 

stopping dead in his tracks, he takes in how close the guy is, the way he’s leaning through the truck’s open window–a window that was rolled up when he left but is now somehow fucking open–and is just–talking to sunny. having a fucking conversation with her. 

suddenly, billy feels every bit of anger and pain and unfairness he’s buried down for the past five years. 

he’s gonna fucking scream.

who the fuck does this guy think he is?

sunny’s four, and this guy can’t stay away? 

billy’ll fucking kill him. 

“get the fuck away from her,” billy basically growls, coming up behind him.

the guy spins around, his eyes wide, but before billy can do anything, sunny shouts out to him, happy as fucking anything.

“look, daddy! he got me sauce this time! have you ever had sauce?”

billy looks at her then and finds her face covered in ketchup, a half eaten nugget in her mouth and a bitten nugget clutched in her hand. 

billy can only feed her what todd buys them back home, and todd’s fucking stingy with the groceries. it's ramen noodles on a good day, and moldy bread on the bad, and billy hasn't had nuggets or chips since before, let alone fucking sauce. he hates himself in that moment for feeling jealous. knows he should be happy that she’s experiencing something normal for once. that her world’s expanding. meeting new people and trying new foods. all the things billy dreams about giving her, but can’t.

as quick as it came, the fight drains out of him, and he’s just so fucking tired. looks at the tomato sauce covering her face and hands and just wants to climb into the truck and take a bite for himself.

“what’d we say about talking to strangers, and eating food strangers give us?” he asks tiredly, scrubbing a hand down his face.

sunny freezes, mid-chew, looking at him with sheepish eyes. “not to?” she screws her face up then, suddenly looking defensive. “but he’s not a stranger, his name is daryl!”

“knowing a stranger’s name doesn't make them not a stranger, punk,” he replies, looking at daryl cautiously.

daryl chooses that moment to back off slightly, taking a few steps back. they stare at each other for a moment silently before billy makes a move to get in the truck, and this time, daryl doesn’t have any parting words for him. billy gets in and floors it out of there. 

billy spends a lot of time between that drop and the next drop attempting to teach sunny about stranger danger.

it’s not easy, though, considering sunny’s world consists of only three entire people, and before daryl, it was only two. 

she knows other people exist, of course, billy’s told her enough stories over the years for her to know about max, her aunt who's a badass on a skateboard and has bright red hair. that billy has a mum somewhere in california, and the second they can, they're gonna go track her down and find her. she knows he grew up with a best friend named argyle, before he got ripped away from that home and planted in hawkins, indiana. but all those people are just stories to her, and even though he tries to make them as real as possible, he knows she thinks of them like she thinks of all her bedtime stories. 

nothing but a tale.

after struggling with it for a few nights, billy cracks.

“you just got me, okay, kid?” it comes out harsher than he intended, and he fucking hates himself when he catches her flinch.

forcing himself to take a deep breath, he turns around to face her fully from where he was scrubbing a plate. 

“you’ve just got me, and i’ve only got you,” his voice wobbles, threatening to break. fuck, he’s such a shit fucking dad. all she’s trying to do is understand the world and he can't even explain the concept of people to her without making her cry. he swipes a hand at his nose before quickly sitting down beside her, letting her curl up into his side.

“remember,” he murmurs into her hair, placing a gentle kiss there before tugging her in close and hugging her tight. “it’s just you–” he pokes her, “–and me–” he tickles her, getting a small giggle, “–against the world. we don't need no one else, yeah?”

she blinks up at him, eyes wet, then slowly nods. “i remember.”

she cuddles in close again, tucking her head under his chin, and he lets his head fall back and stares up at the ceiling of the peice of shit buried rv, trying not to break down.

god, all she’s got is him–a complete and utter fuck up that has absolutely no business being a dad. she should be out there in the real world; making friends, learning things, eating birthday cake, playing with fucking toys. she should be living life like a typical four year old, with the entire world at her fingertips. not living in some hole in the fucking ground, eating mold, and living in fucking rags. 

he just hopes that one day, if they ever get free, she’ll forgive him. 

for not being enough.

touching a hand to his stomach where he can feel it getting firmer, he stuffs a fist in his mouth as a sob threatens to break through. 

he prays they can forgive him, too. 

“what's your favourite-ist food, daddy?” sunny asks without even looking up, too busy colouring in a falling-to-bits colouring-in book that todd gave her months ago.

billy puts the book down that he was reading, a book he's read quite literally over fifty times now, but its one of seven that todds gave him, and it’s the least boring one he’s got.

he doesn't remember an exact favourite food or its taste, just vaguely remembers eating fucking everything, whenever he wanted. remembers the way he used to be able to go to the cupboard or fridge in the kitchen, and there’d be options. his dad might've been tight on what billy was allowed to just open, getting riled up about food waste and what not, but still, it was an option. susan used to cook dinner most nights, and on special occasions like max’s birthday, or the night they moved to hawkins, they had takeaway. 

he remembers fast food, and milkshakes, and susans shitty casserole. he remembers pizza, and birthday cake, and a thanksgiving spread. he remembers argyles mum’s special after school brownie, and the way he ate four pieces and made himself sick.

he tries to tell her about all of them, but when she looks at him lost and overwhelmed, he decides to dial it back and focus on one thing.

“me and max sometimes used to go to the takeaway shop, on summer break. we’d go after she’d stacked it on her board too many times and i couldn't be bothered surfing anymore,” he starts, trying to keep emotion out of it. “and she’d ask for ketchup on her fries, and since i was a dickhead older brother, i’d tell them to put barbecue sauce on them instead.”

sunny puts down the crayons she was using to look at him.

“what's that?”

billy rubs a hand down his face before sinking into his seat further, taking a deep breath.

‘i don't even know how to describe it, punk. it’s like–wait, you know what daryl gave you last week? nuggets and fries, right? so, fries are just like–okay, so. imagine bread–carbs–but deep fry it, and also make it not moldy. and then fish is like–” he stops, trying to figure out where to even start. “it's like–deep fried as well, but fish is salty, i guess.” he pauses, thinking about it. “well, it actually depends on what kind of fish you get," he corrects, “and then sauce is just, like, sugar with flavouring. sort of,” he concludes lamely, shrugging. “ketchup's meant to be tomato flavoured, and it's as red as shitbird’s hair was. you had some, remember? and barbecue sauce is brown, so it kind of looks like shit. max hated it. was probably the only reason i liked it.” 

sunny says nothing.

billy wants to bang his head against the wall. that was the world's worst explanation, and he knows it. sunny’s only ever had those two deep fried things in her life, just three days ago, and sauce? his kid’s barely even tasted sugar.

sunny beams at him, though, when he finally looks at her, completely captivated. 

“one day i wanna have fish and fries, and i wanna have ketchup and barbie sauce,” she dreams, her eyes wide. 

billy chokes on the lump in his throat.

“one fuckin’ day, punk. i promise.”

on their way out to the drop the next week, sunny shoots him troubled looks the entire way. 

pulling into the car park, billy turns to her, waiting expectantly. 

sunny doesn't make him wait long.

“is daryl a stranger, daddy? because i love nuggets.”

billy stares at her wordlessly then sighs.

“if daryl brings nuggets, then i guess–” he stops, taking a second to compose himself. can’t actually believe he’s letting this happen. “then i guess you can have them. but do not leave this truck, you hear me?”

she smiles the worlds biggest smile at him, and billy thinks the only reason he doesn't fucking hate todd down to his core is because of this. because she looks so much like him when she smiles, or laughs, and billy spent so long worrying he would resent her when she came, but turns out, he loves her more than life itself. she’s all he has, even if she did come from the worst thing in his life.

“please–just, stay in the truck, okay?”

“okay, daddy.”

daryl leans against the wall in the alleyway, watching as the guy gets out of his truck then heads inside the bar.

blowing out a lungful of smoke, he keeps one eye on the entire car park, and another eye on the truck.

he doesn't have to wait long before the kid pokes her head up, pulling faces in the window then drawing pictures with her fingers in the fog of her breath.

he takes another quick surveillance of the car park before quickly ducking in the sidedoor of the bar kitchen, grabbing a takeaway box filled with nuggets and chips and sauce that he ordered earlier–just in case–before quickly ducking back outside.

slowing his stride down considerably and making sure he's as unthreatening as possible, he crosses the car park and quietly knocks on the driver's side window.

thinks–this is the creepiest thing he’s ever done, trying to befriend a fucking child, but then the kids face lights up at the sight of him, and she basically dives over to her dad's side of the car to press the unlock button on the door.

daryl opens the door and passes along the box of food.

“hi!” she exclaims, grabbing it from him and digging in, and daryl winces. she may as well’ve just yelled it. he quickly checks the car park again, and when he finds it still empty, he focuses back on her.

“i’m just gonna–” he starts, then rolls down the window before stepping back and closing the door. taking a step back in, he folds his arms and rests them on the now open window sill, and settles in.

“you good?” he asks, not knowing why he gives such a shit about this whole situation, just knows he does. 

he went from thinking her dad was a piece of shit, to thinking maybe there's something going on, with the way he looked when he said he didn't have a choice. hasn’t figured out whether he believes him yet, but aside from sitting shotgun to drug runs, this kid seems well-loved. still, doesn't hurt to keep an eye out. daryl knows too many kids that got caught up in this shit from lowlife parents, grew up right along side them. most of them never got out. daryl barely has.

“i love nuggets,” is all she says, then she holds one out for him.

“nah, i’m good. all yours, kid,” he waves her off.

she grins at him then looks down at her feast, fingers hovering over which nugget to pick next.

“daryl. do you have bar-bee sauce?” she asks next, screwing her face up when she can’t get the right word out. “barbie sauce. bee-bee?”

“barbecue sauce?” he offers, watching her eyes go wide and her head start nodding frantically.

“yes! bar-bee-que sauce! daddy says it’s his favorite, and he hasn’t had it since before,” she explains, sorting her food out and splitting it all in half, placing some on the lid side of the box and leaving the rest in the container part. “and he hasn't had nuggets, or fries, or ice-cream, or cake, or pizza. daryl,” she asks, looking up with a confused look on her face, “what’s pizza?”

daryl stares at her blankly, trying to keep up with the conversation. the past two times she’s barely spoken to him, this is a whole new side of her.

“uh, pizza’s like–i don’t know,” he shrugs, biting at his nail when she gives him an unimpressed look. “just pizza, i guess.”

“that means nothing to me,” she sasses back, all attitude.

he nods to where she’s arranging her food, “you gonna share that with your dad?” he questions, trying to figure out what she meant when she said ‘before’. before he started working for jack? before he moved to georgia? before he had a kid? feels weird to stop having pizza, of all things, for any of those occasions, though.

“yep. he’s gonna be so excited. he’s always puking, and i’m always holding his hair back. but he says if todd gave us good food that wasn’t moldy, then he wouldn't be sick all the time, and he could eat. daryl, is this moldy?” she asks, holding up a fry, reaching her hand out as far as it can go so daryl can inspect it closely.

daryl takes a long and hard look, all for show, then gives her a thumbs up. “all good. no mold.” 

she grins up at him again then starts eating from her stash. “good.”

“you want me to get some barbecue sauce for you? so you can surprise him?” he asks awkwardly, not really knowing what to do now he’s pretty sure she's not like, actively being abused and in need of help.

“oh please! please please please! yes!” she shouts, almost tipping the snackbox off her lap. 

daryl snorts then nods at her, telling her to lay low again and he’ll be back. thinks her dad will probably be back out soon, since he always seems to be straight in and out, no fucking around.

ducking back in the kitchen, he grabs a few barbecue sauce sachets, then at the last minute, steals another box of nuggets and chips and two sodas.

heading back out to the truck, he presents the kid with his haul.

“more nuggets!” she yells, before her eyes catch the drinks. “wow, what are those?” she asks, mesmerised.

“soda,” daryl says, passing her one. he watches her shake it and turn it around, looking at every part of it, then look back up at him. 

“what do i do with it?”

daryl feels himself stare at her. knows she’s a fucking kid, and by the sounds of it, a sheltered one at that, but still. how can you not know what a can of soda is, let alone how to open it and drink it. her dad’s a fucking drug dealer, you can't tell him that he’s one of those freaks who doesn't allow sugar in the house.

just as daryl’s about to take it back and open it for her, he hears the front door of the bar open. looking over, he sees her dad walking their way and braces himself for whatever mood he’s about to deal with.

sunny seems to catch her dad walking over as well, and immediately unbuckles her seatbelt and kneels up on the seat, showing off her haul. her dad’s steps slow as he takes it in and he turns to daryl with wide-eyes.

“daddy, we got you barbecue sauce! i told daryl it was your favorite-ist, and he went and got some! and, he got soda!” she announces, holding up the can to him as he reaches her door. 

billy brings his hand up to shush her, looking around the deserted car park before opening her door. she launches herself forward and into his arms and he catches her with ease, but he looks straight at daryl from over her shoulder, looking fucking blindsided.

daryl thought this guy was in his twenties, even his thirties before he got a closer look at him, but now, standing right in front of him, no posturing or outbursts getting in the way, daryl’s starting to doubt he’s even cracked eighteen. jesus fucking christ. how the hell’s he wound up working for todd and jack already.

the guy eyes the food and the drinks then looks back at daryl. 

“you can have ‘em, don’t want ‘em back. you’re good, man,” he nods at him, trying to come off as non-threatening as possible. 

the kid mentioned her dad had been throwing up a lot, and standing there and taking him in, daryl can honestly say that the guy looks like shit. like he hasn’t showered in a while, or cut his hair. like he hasn’t eaten, or slept, or smiled, or even fucking existed. 

he looks like what daryl imagines ghosts would look like. like they're hanging on by a thread, tethered by one single reason left to exist, and the knife to cut the string is hovering just out of sight.

the dad’s hand slowly inches forward and swipes a fry, dipping it in the brown sauce. bringing it to his mouth, he closes his eyes as he puts it in, and when he finishes it, he opens his eyes back up to look at him, and daryl realises he’s crying.

“thank you,” he manages to get out, wrapping both arms tight around his daughter again and burying his face in her hair, his shoulders shaking slightly.

“daddy, are you okay?” she pulls back enough to ask, wrapping her arms loosely around his neck.

her dad nods jerkily and wipes at his eyes. “yeah, sun. i just fucking miss home.”

“and your sister? who has red hair?” she checks, then double checks, making her dad laugh. 

“yeah. i miss mad max and her fugly hair.”

the kid turns to him then, still hanging off her dad’s neck. “daryl, have you ever met someone with red hair. dad says his sister has red hair, but that's crazy. you can’t have red hair.”

daryl’s about to bullshit a reply when suddenly the front door of the bar opens.

the dad all but throws sun down in her seat, looking completely fucking terrified.

daryl decides then and there he’s gonna do whatever he can to help. doesn't know what shit they're involved in, but–fuck it. 

everyone's involved in shit in this part of town. him and this guy basically run in the same circles anyway, if he’s his brothers dealer, and daryl works at the bar he conducts business at.

he nods at the dad to get in the truck before taking a step back, casually making his way over to dwight who just stumbled out. 

distracting him with shoptalk, he watches as the guy climbs in the truck quietly before starting the engine, throwing his arm over dwight’s shoulder when dwight automatically goes to look over. 

“how’s sherry likin’ your new hours, man? glenn said negan’s runnin’ that place into the ground.”

dwight takes the bait, going on a rant about how negan knows what he’s doing, there's just gonna be an adjustment period is all. daryl couldn't give less of a fuck. just needs the dad and the kid to fucking leave already.

finally, their truck passes, and daryl drops his arm and stops, pulling his pack of smokes out.

“you good to get home like this?”

“what, you gonna drive me home, dixon?” dwight laughs, making it to his piece of shit toyota.

“get fucked.”

[moonythejedi394]

snippet from honestly thought i'd be dead by now

Bucky was minding his own business, trying to get his tax software to stop freezing, when the front door opened and then slammed.

“JAMES BARNES!”

Bucky looked up, startled, as Steve stormed into the bedroom, having been at a doctor’s appointment for inexplicable nausea. He looked infuriated. In three years of marriage and all the time they’d known each other before that, Bucky’s never seen Steve so red in the face and fuming.

“You,” he said, pointing a stack of papers at him accusingly.

“Me?” Bucky repeated, pointing at himself. “What did I do?”

Steve threw the papers down onto Bucky’s desk. “You broke science!” he snapped.

Bucky broke science?

“What?” Bucky said, now very confused, but he picked up the papers.

It looked like a perfectly normal visit summary, until his glance passed over a recommendation for follow-up with an obstetrician. Bucky was even more confused. 

“I don’t get it,” Bucky said, looking up.

Steve slammed a finger over a list of test results. “There,” he hissed. “Now what do you have to say for yourself?”

“Huh?” Bucky muttered as he squinted at the line Steve had pointed out. 

hCG: 13,294 mIU/mL

Bucky blinked at that line slowly. “Huh,” he repeated. The test should list Steve’s hCG levels as less than 5 mLU/mL. 13,294 milli-international units per milliliter was a bit over that number. “Wouldja look at that,” he murmured.

[l0n4t1csfan65]

dont kill me

[jackalupe-corner]

MatPat? More like MatPreg!

I want Matthew Patrick, host of the world-wide famous YouTube show "Game Theory", to get pregnant with Captain America actor Chris Evans's child.