#and of course echo and rex

[laughhardrunfastbekindsblog]

So I have decided that if a clone rebellion series isn't announced or at least hinted at during the next Star Wars Celebration, I'm going to write the story myself.

[andi-o-geyser]

i love my boys in blue (the 501st Legion of the Grand Army of the Republic)

[maidenvault]

It absolutely breaks my heart to consider it but it really does feel like TBB is working toward an end of the story of the clones in general. They’re one of my very favorite aspects of the SW world and I’ve not wanted to think this could be the end of clone-focused canon, but I’m not sure there will be much left to say about them after the Tantiss mission is pulled off.

And anyway they deserve peace finally, to exit the story. We know where Rex eventually ends up, and maybe Echo will take over leading a cell of the rebellion in his place (possibly leading to Echo Base being named after him). But any of them who want to stop fighting and actually have a life after this should. Those three teen clones have already found a home on Pabu and maybe a little community of clone vets could be started there.

[magicandmundane]

Ngl, I had pretty much EVERYONE BUT Emerie on my “who’s having an identity crisis??” bingo card

[archivewriter1ont]

I just posted the second and final chapter of Learning This Life with Echo🦻 and Tech 👓! I love this duo almost as much as my beloved snarky bros Echo and Crosshair (which you can read about here in the multi-chapter Tale of Two Snarks.)

[poobur79]

Echo Echo Echo Echo Echo Echo Echo Echo

ECHOOOOOOOOOOOO

My favorite badass, former POW, PTSD having, triple-amputee, part cyborg, fearless soldier, leader & brother has enough character potential to lead his own show. We didn’t get enough of him in Bad Batch.

I would also sell my soul for more canon Kallus & Zeb but I’m still hoping the live action shows come through there…

Here’s how we can still get an animated Rex show

[seeking-elsewhither]

Watching this documentary sort of thing about someone, and this man is talking about his childhood with the main character. Spoke of how they always wanted to get out of the place they were stuck in, but they made no actionable plan because they were only kids whose singular thought process was "We have to get out of this place."

And if that doesn't perfectly encapsulate Clone Force 99's mentality, I don't know what does.

[eunuchve]

tags: mdni, smut, dragon!morax, MONSTERFUCKING, rut/mating cycles, predator/prey, double dragon cocks, double penetration, CERVIX FUCKING, size kink, mentioning pregnancy, mating, bro has a worship kink, breeding kink hints (he's in a rut dont hold it against him) a.n: (what have i done) this is the first porn with plot I've written and I gotta say; it is damn long.... happy valentines my dears, enjoy! pairings: zhongli x afab!reader

Lord Morax is a god; but he is more than that, he is an adeptus. illuminated beast. this fact needs no introduction, everyone knows. 

so when he took leave to a remote part of liyue somewhere, unknown to even his retainers, no one dared to bat an eye. the rain has fallen heavy, the season has become damp, and the scheduled time is near; Rex Lapis will have his rut.

it didn't take long for people to figure out the reasons for his absence; not when the lord became increasingly unfocused during stately meetings a week prior or when his eyes would turn to slits with a whiff of a woman's perfume for a month’s time.

You, the lone herb picker of a local pharmacy, didn't know any better when you stumbled upon a large hollowed-out cave that wasn't supposed to be there. you are familiar with the terrains, hell, you know it like the back of your hand -- so imagine your surprise when you find a nesting dragon inside, heaving, grunting alone; its horns glowing with a bright amber before its head snapped to your directly, eyes instantly turning to slits.

at first, you stumble backwards, watching as the figure slowly but surely towers over your frame; your neck cranes to meet its molten bronze eyes. it didn't take you long to realise whose privacy you had so ungraciously barged into; your mouth dries and you dropped your basket full of violetgrass, your heart beating out of your chest before your feet finally got some sense and took running to the woods. 

'fuck fuck fuck.'

you are going to die- you are so sure you are going to die. when your feet stumble and trip over branches and air, when you can hear him gliding through the sky; undoubtedly searching for you. The sounds of his scaled body burst through the leaves of the ginkgo trees, or of his deep, rough growls that echo through the forest. With every heavy step you take, you can feel him getting closer and closer. The thrill and fear mix inside of you, your body stirs with blood coursing through you. Weirdly amid the fear you feel-- somehow excitement came into the mix; something about your life being in the mercy of a chase?

Why is he there again? Rut? So will he fuck you or will he kill you? You certainly prefer one to the other. 

Your legs continue to run, even as you trip and fall, or when you stumble upon a rock or two; searching for an exit to a nearby village or open path; but no matter how far you run you can't seem to find the correct way. Your eyes scanned all directions before your body was suddenly pinned down under a sudden force and unmoving weight.

The paws of a creature so large that it covers your entire back, its talons digging into your back. The smell of freshly dug earth and exotic spices violates your nostrils and your heart can't help but thump against your chest just a little faster. You turned your neck, finding the dragon’s face mere inches from yours; his hot breath grazing the exposed skin of your neck. 

“Please don’t kill me.” god your voice sounds so desperate; with a hint of a broken whimper- even you are embarrassed by that fact. but your god didn't seem disturbed, instead he let out a low grunt, before hissing back a reply.

"don't beg."

"...huh?"

"don't." he spat the word, seeming holding something back. "beg."

"b-but--"

he didn't let you finish, picking you up by the scruff of your neck before throwing you to his back. he flew you back somewhere, you didn't care to notice since most of the flight back you are scrambling for something to hold on to; whether it is the golden spines or his actual body.

by the time you both arrive at the entrance of the familiar cave, he has waited for you to get off his back. you inclined, of course, shakily getting a feel of the ground below, catching your breath whilst adrenaline courses through you. once you get a feel yourself, your eyes travel to him, catching his large form walking slowly to the back of the cave.

"you won't kill me?" you find yourself asking; his head then slowly turns to you before, a visible look of confusion etched on it.

"Why would I?" his deep rough voice replies. he is definitely holding something back, the way his lips parted a bit to let steam out of his mouth, the sharp teeth that are visible from them make you gulp the pooling saliva in your mouth.

"Because... cave..."

weak reasoning, you'd have to admit, but if he won't kill you then you'd have to be sure of the other possibility. "then would you fuck me?"

the look on his face deepened before his head hung low, and a soft whisper came to you for a reply. "what makes you think of that?"

"It's your- Rex Lapis it's your time of..."

embarrassed, incredibly embarrassed; that's the feeling you felt, with the heat of blood rushing to your cheek and thumping heart against your chest only enforcing the fact.

"it is time for my rut, yes," he confirmed, his gaze thrown to the floor, avoiding your figure, "but I am not one with lost senses; sleep, it is night, it will be safer to leave in the morning."

you nod weakly, shuffling your way to the walls and plopping down on the dirt before curling up. the heat in your cheeks refuses to prevail as you watch him walk back, his long tail moves with each step he takes, the tuff at the end resembling that of golden clouds.

"My lord why are you moving so far away?" you asked, instantly biting your lip the moment that question escaped your mind, realising how desperate you sounded with that pretence.

"your arousal," he states matter of factly. "you. I can smell it."

you look at him wide-eyed, your face now comparable in its heat to the sun, your lips agape.

"it's safer for you this way," he continues.

"do you not want to?" archons you are greedy aren't you. "your rut- I can.. help..."

"I doubt it." his voice is precise, he says it like it's a fact, not even letting you have a space to express your desire. "they are the size of your thigh and their length..."

"I can try." bold- now you are being too bold. the size of your thigh he said? now you can feel your ears getting heated up from the shame. your thigh now pressed together as you imagine him inside of you; a second pass and your arms no longer placed nicely on your lap, instead instinctively protecting your chest.

his gaze looms over you, his snout now only a hairsbreadth away from your neck; a long deep breath he takes is audible before he groans out a reply.

"Do not test me human," something inside of him is threatening undone, you know it, "I will breed you till your womb is full and your consciousness lost-- if that is not what you desire then stay quiet and sleep; I shall bring you the village in the morning but until then speak not of this."

you gulp, now your lips parted before you crane your neck and place a shaky kiss on his scaled cheek, the heat of his body contrasting the cold of your flesh. "... that is what I desire--"

with that your clothes are torn apart; the valuable silk you spend months of your wage on is gone and your naked skin is exposed. the cold air hardened your nipples and he took notice, his head travelling down, his long forked tongue lapping sweetly onto them, earning your strangle out a moan.

"getting aroused from a chase," he breathes out, almost teasing you; hot breath contrasts that of the cooling saliva on your perked buds, sending vibrations down your spine. "thinking you can take a dragon's cocks, wanting to be the mother of my offsprings -- what bold actions you possessed."

you let out a whine, his tongue now travelling down, ever so subtly closing down to your cunt. you pressed your thighs together; embarrassed, already feeling your arousal seeping out of you before his claws forced them wide open, earning your moan.

"you are pooling my dear," he almost chuckled, his eyes narrowed as he licked his lips, his breath now grazing your quivering folds, unexpected whimper broken out of you.

"please?"

with that word you can feel the air snap hotter, his eyes now meeting yours; his form towering over you before he chuckle, training down kisses, his tongue now making sure you are covered in his scent.

"didn't I tell you not to beg?" his claws hold your thigh open and he took a lap of your cunt, almost smiling at your taste. "do you know why my dear?"

"n-no--"

your moans escape, feeling his tongue entering you, fucking you, stimulating your walls, not letting you escape. you arched your back, biting your lips as another whimper persisted. you feel his hand moving, now pressing his claws to your other hole, expecting you to open up; and you let him, your holes now stuffed full of him before you feel his tongue slip out of you, your whine tells him as much about what you want.

"Because if you beg..." he now moves his hands to your ankles, folding you in half and you watch helplessly, his two golden cocks decorated with geometric lines and veins on either side, one on top of the other- he does not lie, the size of those things are comparable to your thigh, its length will most likely penetrate your womb- "I will answer."

he chuckles subtly, aligning his cocks to both of your holes, its weight now pressing down on you, precum leaks out of them, lubricating you further.

"i am a god, my dear; I always answer."

with that he presses his cock head to your holes, hoping both of them will ease up. you moan his title out, causing him to snap his head to you, making him greedy.

Your little groan and hiss only help you muster up the strength to let loose, feeling your holes easing up before they let his cockheads in, making your chest heave.

he grunts against your neck; and you feel his teeth subtly tracing your shoulder, little nips that satiate his hunger, burying his head in its crook.

"Celestia." the way you feel around the tip of his cock is incomparable; the dragon finds himself clenching down his jaw, controlling his urges to slam you down to its hilt. "you are made for me my dear."

he grabs a hold of your hips, and you feel him sliding you down. you let out a low moan, your back still arched as you feel him inside of you more and more. the burn from the stretch doesn't scare you, even if you feel like you are being split in two- you only know the pleasure that waits for you not so out of reach.

not even halfway and you already feel him brushing against your cervix, your broken moan coupled with the way you rolled your hips almost makes him snap. his other cock too now deep inside of you- almost too deep; you feel the pressure against your throat, feeling his cocks twitch, almost making you jolt, your hand searching from his arm, nails now digging into his scales.

he looks at you, his parted lips letting out steam before his uneven breathing stops to let him speak. "I shall move now."

you look at him, biting your lips and nod firmly, affirming your readiness. you feel him trying to go out of you, your cunt and hole tightening around him, almost hungry before he slams into you, earning your cry of pleasure.

it persists; he goes out of you before he slips inside, messaging your walls before they tightened around him again, hungrily seeking him, your face now fucked out with pleasure, feeling him abuse your holes.

"I'm not even all the way in my dear." he almost smirks, you can see it. before you know it, you suddenly feel him picking you up, your walls being freed from his cocks, suddenly empty and you whine; letting him flip you to your stomach and holding your ass up in the air.

he marvels at the sight, seeing both of your holes gape yet clench down on nothing, it almost made him giddy.

"my beautiful follower," he mused, his claws now digging into your flesh before you feel his cocks lining up with your holes again; embarrassingly you can feel your cunt relaxing, ready to take him in once more. "will you be my mate now darling?"

"yes!" your desperation stays, you want him inside you so bad, "please Rex Lapis please!"

you didn't know what did, but you certainly awaken something in him. he brings you up in the air before slamming you down on his cocks, your walls now taking him fully, your stomach bulging out with his shape. your breath knocks out of you; you can feel him all the way in your womb, your hand can't help but trace the raised flesh, your spine almost shivering from the sensation.

"keep begging."

that sounds like an order; even your now fucked out brain knows that. so like the good follower you are you follow that order.

"Please make me your mate," you choke out, his slow rhythms that know your breath slowly but surely going faster, brushing up against all your pleasure spots, making you roll your eyes to the back of your head. "please please please please I wanna- I want--"

he chuckles, the way you mewl your pleas, the way your warm flesh tightens around him; he can even feel your walls hungrily sucking him in so nicely. in his mind he is thanking Celestia; because fuck, you are a masterpiece.

"a human could die from this," he grunts out, going in and out of you with an inhuman pace, your cunt and hole loosening with his movements. "not you my dear; you are made for me."

you whine from his statement, the bludge he created only drives you to the edge, feeling something inside of you tightening, your nails digging into his scaled flesh, your face supported by his nose. "R-rex Lapis i- my-- i'm--"

"you want to cum my dear?" he almost teases you with the question, his cock brushing, bullying your g spot, making you dig your nails further, your head could only nod desperately at his question. "hold it, you could only cum when I do."

you whine out with his order, and he lets out a subtle groaning with it, chuckling at your reaction. his hand moves down, large talons brushing against your hard clit, teasing the nub; knowing exactly what it will make you do.

you wrapped your arm around his neck, his golden mane brushing against your flesh so softly; and your tug your face on them, muffling out your long moan and desperate cries.

"fuck- please lord mo- morax- r-rex lapis please- i want- i wanna- please please please-"

he kept his word, his face moving and kissing your neck, feeling you move your pelvis to fit him better, your inside hungrily brushing against his shaft. his brow knits, he feels himself almost coming undone.

"now."

with a final thrust, he fills both of your holes with white ropes of cum, you yourself arching your back, feeling your orgasm hits you harder than ever before. he hear your pants before he coils around you, closing gaps between the two of your while still being inside of you, wrapped up by your own warmth.

"i shall make the wedding preparation after the season's over," he breath out; your mind finally able to join the sentence together before you move your head, repeating the most important word again.

"wedding..."

"of course my dear," he kisses you, his snout pressed against your jaw before he tugs his head onto your collar bone. his hand travels to your stomach, rubbing the visible buldge that only grows with his cum, almost making look pregnant.

"the little ones will be coming soon."

[couldeatthatgirlforlunch]

Nonsense

Synopsis: While on the brink of death, you confess your greatest burden to Rex. He always had a crush on you, so he decides that at his final moments, he should grant both of your last wishes… Until Invincible saves you.

You go on with your life, but Rex can't seem to forget what you did under that rock.

Pairing: Rex Sloan X Gn!Reader

Tw: Mentioned sex a lot, but no description, except a mention of multiple orgasms; Mentioned virginity loss; Mentioned dying; Mentioned self deprecation; Mentioned loneliness; Unrequited love on Rex's part until the end; Happy ending; Despair; Reader is a late bloomer, that makes them insecure, and their perception of dating is skewed because of that; Drunk confession; Mentioned past cheating (it's Rex guys); English isn't my first language.

Word count: 4,5k

Requested? Nope.

Extra notes: Imagine Rex singing Nonsense instead of Sabrina Carpenter. Divider

General masterlist

The urge to laugh is too strong, no matter how hard you try to hold it in, it bubbles from your guts until it's spilling from your mouth and echoing around the hole you're stuck in. It's inappropriate, you know it is, and you're not sure how your colleague might feel about that.

But it's your death too, so you think you can react however you want.

“What the fuck? Are you going crazy on me now?!” Rex, so eloquently, exclaimed. It just makes you crackle harder, tears swiftly starting to leak from your eyes.

“It's just- HAHA- it's funny! In- In a- HA- really fucked way… HAHAHA!” Rex stared at you with wide eyes, weirded out, and almost afraid of you.

“Hot stuff, hmm… I know I’m not the most gracious dude you know but…” He turned his head from one side to the other, looking around. “We’re about to die here, I don't think it's funny.” He crossed his arms. “And I’m trying to escape this shithole we’re stuck in. I’m gonna be pissed if you just keep sitting there and giggling.” He scowled.

You kept giggling.

“It's just… I’m a fucking loser!” You threw your head back, tears streaming down faster. “I’m about to die a virgin! HA!” You clapped your hands when your eyes started burning, trying to coax more genuine tears from laughing instead of crying.

Rex blinked.

“You… Uhhh…?”

“I’m about to die! And I never even had sex before! HA!” Suddenly, the giggles became so forced that the signals of an approaching headache made themselves known inside your skull. “I was just a lab rat! I’ve never ever lived anything! Never dated anyone…” The urge to cry got stronger as your heart constricted, and the situation didn't seem all that funny anymore. “And I’m still a virgin…” You sniffed, uselessly trying to wipe your face with both hands, a little too aggressively. Crying was no worth when death was knocking at your door. Rex winced.

“Oh man… I’m so sorry-”

“AND I’M STUCK HERE WITH THE BIGGEST WHORE I KNOW!”

Rex frowned and pursed his lips.

“Hey! That was not cool… Fair. I guess. But not cool…” Rex sighed, walked towards you, and dropped down to sit by your side. You giggled harder, clapping weakly, eyes closed.

“AND HE NEVER EVEN FLIRTED WITH ME! HAHAHA- HAHA- HA. Ha. Ha…”

Silence overtook the hole for a minute, broken only by you sniffing.

Getting buried to death by Doc Seismic would've been quicker. But getting stuck in a 8x8 feet hole after an earthquake he caused, not being able to get out despite both having superpowers, and then suffocating to death, was almost as humiliating as dying a virgin. Almost.

You were so far below that you couldn't even hear the fight anymore, you only could wish you wouldn't be dead by the time someone found you both. You knew having powers that need to be charged by sunlight would fuck you up one day. And of course Murphy’s Law would cause you to be stuck with a guy whose powers were also useless in this situation, because Rex either would've exploded you both, or caused the rocks above you to shift and crush you faster.

You snorted at the thought.

“Am I ugly?” You blurted out one of the thoughts that crossed your mind sometimes, when loneliness and self deprecation decided to torture your mind a little, and you found yourself getting jealous of people in positions you didn't even wanna be in. Because of course you didn't want to be Eve, and get cheated on multiple times by Rex, or Kate, and her dating dynamics that just weren't what you felt was for you, or even Amanda, that didn't even have to do anything to make a guy so whipped for her, that he decided to look like a kid just to be with her while her curse of forever looking like a child still had a hold over her life. But at least… At least they were wanted.

Rex's eyes widened again.

“WHAT? NO! What the hell? Of course not! You're hot. You're… Beautiful. Hey, don't feel bad about an asshole like me never hitting on you. Guys like me, we just… We never go for people we think are out of our league. We go for accessibility. And you're… Shit, you're the most intimidating person I’ve ever met… In a good way.” You rolled your eyes.

“Atom Eve is not ‘mid’, you jackass.” Rex shook his head.

“Didn't say she was, honestly she's not even my type. I mean, anyone could see that we weren't meant to be together. I just dated her because she came onto me first…” You deadpanned him, unimpressed to be hearing this during your final moments. “Don't look at me like that! We're cool now! We talked about it and she agreed we weren't good. Plus, she's with Mark now…” Your shoulders slumped, defeated, not a single ounce of fight left. “... And if we're gonna point fingers, she was into him while she was with me! So, I’m not totally guilty here…” You gave him the stinky eye, because he was cheating on her at the time. “... Just 98%...”

You sighed, looking away. Staring at nothing. Head empty. Just disappointed.

“Whatever…”

Rex cleared his throat.

“Why is it such a big deal anyway? Sure, you're kind of a loser. Not by my standards!” His voice raised at that. “I don't really care ‘bout that… Never heard anyone saying that sex is overrated? Because it is! Look at me. I used sex all the time just to feel better about myself. All in the past, of course. I’m a changed man.”

You huffed, almost bored, but thankful for the distraction. At this point, you felt hollow. Absolutely empty. Nothing could affect you anymore. For better or worse. You were gonna die anyway.

“Everyone says it's overrated, but that's because everyone has sex… I’m just… Touch starved, I guess. And lonely… I can't remember the last time someone hugged me. Or wanted to spend time with me. Or looked at me. I only held hands with someone, romantically, once. On a double date I was just because someone needed to bring a friend.” You sighed. “Everyone says I’m beautiful, but people don't try to talk to me. No one tries to get my number. And I’ve never even reached the talking stage. All my friends are dating, while I’m just the odd one out…” You pursed your lips. “And everyone tries to give advice by saying ‘the right person will come if you stop looking’, or ‘at the right time’, or ‘you don't need it anyway’. But that's not what bothers me. None of those things are problems to people who don't care. I live my life. I don’t search for it. I don't spend my days thinking about it. I’m not the most romantic person you’ll ever meet… But I’m horny. And alone. I don't need anyone interested in me. But it would be nice to have someone trying every once in a while…” You shrugged your shoulders. “And honestly, it makes me feel insecure. I feel bad thinking I might date someone in the future and they’ll say ‘I don't have a problem with (Y/N)’s exes, because I’m their first’ as if that's a prize, or a quality. No one is worth enough to be that important. But people who are in love say you don't regret those things if you're with the right person. Well, I’m a full grown adult now, and this person never showed up. Maybe they never will. And I’ll end up being a 42 year old loner who everyone pities, and no one understands why I’m alone. I know I would be great. I know I’m a keeper. But… When you get used to being alone, you don't know how to stop. So I guess my viewing on dating is also skewed from that.” You rolled your eyes when they burned again. “And people my age give me weird looks when I say I have so little experience. Because it's not normal. I’m not normal. That's how I feel. I'm weird. There's something wrong with me.” You blew a raspberry, contrasting to the tears rolling down your cheeks. “Not that it matters anymore. We're about to die… FUCK YOU SEISMIC!”

You slumped back against the wall so lazily that your body slid down the rock and dirt underneath you until you were laying down. Your eyes closed shut, ashamed at having vented to someone like Rex, who certainly didn't need to hear about all your paranoias caused by your own mind, and neither understood it.

You spent the few next minutes in silence, and it was horrible to find out that you at least could feel embarrassment.

Rex tugged his mask and goggles off, deposited them on the ground on his other side, took his gloves off and did the same. Then he ran a hand through his ginger and sweaty hair, before tying it in the bun he always wore.

“I could… Help you?” He asked, tentatively.

You whipped your head in Rex's direction, eyes wide, as if you just heard the most absurd idea ever.

“What?”

“Yeah… There's nothing wrong with you, (Y/N). Maybe you’re just unlucky, or maybe everyone is as afraid of you as I am… But, if you're up for it, it would be an honor to spend my last minutes tangled with you. And you would know what it's like to have sex. Not to brag, but I’m quite good at it too, I’m sure you've heard before, so you're in good hands.” He shrugged with a little smile. “No pressure.”

He said no pressure, but when he looked at you like that, it was impossible not to feel compelled. Tan skin, red hair in a slutty bun, thick eyebrows, wide and bright green eyes, meaty lips, each corner pointing up in a grin that assured you everything was going to be fine.

And that's how it happened. That's how you lost your virginity. Between a rock and a hard place.

Minutes later, Invincible rescued you both.

“What does he have that I don't?” Rex glared daggers at the random agent from the GDA you were talking to. Too flirty, in his opinion.

“Hm?” Mark asked, not really paying attention.

“That old geezer (Y/N)’s talking to.” The ginger pointed at him, obnoxiously as ever. Mark’s eyes widened and he begged at the other with his eyes to stop.

“Stop pointing! They’ll see!” Rex just brought his other hand up and flipped at the guy’s back with both hands. Mark groaned and grabbed his arms, forcing them down. “Maybe he's more polite?! I don't know. Why do you care?”

Rex groaned louder than him. Some people around turned their attention on the two of them momentarily, including you. But that was just for a second, before you shrugged your shoulders and you dismissed him. Again. The ginger deflated at losing your attention once more.

“Oh, so he's better than me because his parents raised him?! Nice one, Mark.” He scoffed. “He’s just a stupid fucking nerd cocksucker who works on finance, wears a toupee, lives with his mom and wouldn't even be able to get his micro dick hard on front of someone like (Y/N).”

“... Okay?” Mark crossed his arms. “I thought you were different now.” He lifted an eyebrow. Rex scowled.

“I am! I just- just…” Rex stuttered. “... It doesn't make sense!” He basically screamed, pointing again, exasperated, with both arms out. Mark face-palmed with a sigh, ignoring the eyes on them again.

“Rex… Do you like them?” Rex’s green eyes widened at that, his heart fell to his feet, his muscles froze for a second and a half.

“What? I- no. No, of course not.” His voice came out thinner and higher than usual. Mark tillted his head.

“Are you sure?”

“Am I sure? Yes! Yes, I am. Why? Does it look like I ain't?” He scoffed again with a grimace, crossing his arms protectively around himself.

“Kinda.”

“Well, you're wrong!”

“Mhm. Was it out of nowhere or did something happen between you two?”

“Pfff, fuck off.” Mark shrugged his shoulders.

“Okay.” He turned to leave, but Rex stopped him before he could.

“I can't say what happened, past me would, because I was a jerk, which I’m not anymore, but something happened, I just won't say what.” Invincible sighed and rubbed his face.

“And did you talk about it with them?”

“Of course not!”

“You should.”

Rex cried out.

“Terrible advice. Horrible. Shitty. You're the worst friend ever!”

Mark shook his head.

“Then nothing will change! Just think about it. Use your new maturity.” He raised his eyebrows to emphasize his point, while Rex pouted. “It's okay to be jealous, man. But to get them, you have to talk to them.” He patted his shoulder. “Took me long enough to understand that, but you’ll get there.”

Rex let out all the air on his lungs, staring at you with longing. He chewed on the interior of his cheek when he watched you write your number on the guy's hand with a pen you snatched from his chest pocket.

“... You're right. Thanks, man.” Rex mumbled with his jaw tense and fists closed tight. “I’ll talk to them.”

Mark watched wearily as the redhead stumped all the way down the room to get to you. He winced at the prospect of what would happen, but ultimately decided to give his friend a chance, and just wait.

“HEY JACKASS!”

“Oh no…” He mumbled, wincing.

You blinked as you looked up at your colleague approaching, looking furious.

“Oh hey, Rex, what's up?”

“You!” He shoved his pointer finger against the guys's chest. “(Y/H/N) doesn't like ugly bald assholes! Get out of here before I beat you and shove a bomb up your-”

“REX!” You slapped his chest, then watched, speechless, as the poor guy scrambled away from you. “Why’d you do that? He's not even bald…”

“Heh, cutie, you don't know guys like I do. You have a long way ahead yet. You started off just fine with me.” He pointed his two thumbs at his chest, proudly. “I get that it's hard to find someone on my level to compete with for your second time, but please, don't insult yourself by giving ugly losers a chance.” He puffed his chest out. You blinked, mouth falling open.

“... Okayyyy? That actually wasn't going to be the second? That time with you helped me a lot, thanks by the way, I’m way more confident now and I think it shows.” You shrugged. “I went on three dates already and two of them are obsessed with me.” You laughed easily. “Still weird to talk about it though, never thought I'd say something like that, but yeah. Thanks again.”

You patted his chest and walked away.

Mark walked in Rex's direction after he watched you distance yourself from him.

“Mark. That didn't work. You told me it would work.”

“... You look like a kicked puppy. It's… Weird…” He blinked, and crossed his arms. “Also, what you did, that's not what I meant.” He shook his head. “Definitely not.”

“... Did you hear anything?”

He shook his head again.

“Just the part where you screamed at that innocent guy, you should get sued for harassment.”

Rex huffed.

“What do I do now?”

“Try again. Nicer this time.”

“Here. Coffee for you.” Rex left a cup in front of you.

“But I don't drink coffee?” He blushed as red as his hair, so hard that the roseness showed through his tan skin.

“Since when?!”

“Since always?!” You stared at him, confused.

“... Okay. Noted.” You stared at each other in silence, for a moment. “... Let's go on a date!” He blurted.

“What? Why?” You jumped from your seat, shocked out of your sockets.

“Because we had sex!”

“You had sex with half the people you know!”

“Not anymore! Not- not since you.”

You sighed deeply, praying for patience, and holding your eyes from rolling inside your skull, purely out of the kindness on your heart.

“Rex, we can't go out.” Rex’s jaw fell, bewildered.

“W-W-Why not?”

“Because- Are you kidding me? Is this a joke?!” You gestured wildly, as if the answer was obvious. “Why do you want to go out with me?” You placed your hands on your hips and raised your eyebrows, inquiring for a logical answer.

“... Because I’m into you.” You rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, sexually. I know you are. We had sex under a rock, you came three times, it was kinda obvious you were attracted to me.” Rex shook his head hastily.

“No! Not like that. I… I think I’m in love with you…” Silence reigned over the room for a couple moments, that felt like an eternity for both of you. You didn't even want to give him an answer, because what do you say to something like that? To someone like him? As for Rex… “... Can't you say something already?!” He exclaimed while shaking his hands, sounding pissed off, but actually desperate.

“... You're not in love with me.” You stated.

“Yes, the fuck I am?”

“No, the fuck you aren't. You might be in love with my guts. Or with intimacy. Or the attention. Or you're having a trauma response to almost dying, and got emotionally dependent on me because I was there, and we kind of comforted each other. But you are not in love with me.” You shook your head, sporting a serious countenance and hugging your torso protectively.

“(Y/N)... That's what you think of me?” You blinked.

“... I don't know. Yes? No? Maybe?” You shook your head and shrugged your shoulders. “What I think doesn't matter. Even if you're a good guy now, I know my luck. You think you're in love with me now because I gave you some attention, and we had sex, and we were on the brink of death.” Rex tried to interrupt you, but you raised your hand, he took a step forward but you took a step back. “But it’s not real. You’ll be entertained with me for a while, then we’ll run out of things to talk about because you're not that interested anymore, and you're just gonna look for me for sex, and then I’m gonna feel like everyone pities me and thinks I’m stupid for being with you, for thinking I actually had a chance at a relationship. And I'll feel like that too. And then it's going to end.” You took another step back, and he took a step forward, his expression looking more crestfallen the more you looked bothered, hurt and defensive, while trying to hide. “You don't want me, Rex. You just want someone. And you might genuinely want someone else, one day. But that person is not me.” You straighten your posture, kicking your vulnerability away, and willing every ounce of determination to show. “Again, thank you for taking that weight off my back, and for making it fun, but don't think for a second I had any hope or intention that it would turn into more than just sex.”

“(Y/N)...”

You faked the same friendly smile you always give everyone, trying your hardest to pretend everything is okay, the future isn't weird, and nothing has changed.

“If you wanna be friends with benefits, that's cool with me.” You shrugged, and walked away to lock yourself in your room.

Rex didn't talk to you again for a while, and you were okay with that. If he was going to act like an idiot, then he could do it away from you. Meanwhile, you distracted yourself with training with the other Guardians, saving people, enjoying time alone — as you were used to —, and sometimes indulging in the attention of those guys you got out of luck, at least while it lasted. Good things were rare for you, so you usually just took what you could get. That didn’t mean you were going to humiliate yourself for crumbs, and that's surely what any ill intentioned person will try to give you

That is, until your peace was disturbed in the middle of the night. You had a hunch about who was knocking on your door, but you were rooting for the possibility that it was just Rudy calling you for an emergency.

But it wasn't, it was Rex. And he was drunk.

“Look… I don't care what you think…” The redhead was so out of it that he needed to hold on the threshold so as not to fall, while the other held his beer and pointed a finger in your general direction. “If I said I’m in love with you… I’m in love with you…” He lost balance for a second, but got a hold of it soon enough. “I’ve never said that to anyone… Anyone… You can… Ask around…” His eyes closed, surely heavy.

“Rex, go to your room.” You mustered all the patience in the world to utter those words as calmly as you could manage.

“No… Now you're gonna… Hear me…” He opened his eyes and chugged the rest of his drink, shooking you to your core. “You blame me… You blame other people… You blame yourself… You blame everyone…” You crossed your arms and tapped your foot at how long it was taking him to formulate sentences. “But the truth is… You can have everything you’ve ever wanted…” He tilted his head, probably because of how heavy it felt. “With me…”

You sighed, exasperated.

“Go to sleep!” You insisted.

“With you?” He giggled, and before you could say anything, he somehow managed to stumble inside your room. You guess it would be the easiest thing to push him out, but you were too nice to watch him fall in the middle of the corridor, despite having too little patience to take care of him throughout the rest of the night. The goal was to get rid of him as soon as possible.

“No, not with me! In your own room! Alone!”

“You're jealous baby? You shouldn't be… I only have eyes for you…” He fell on your bed, basically dead weight, and you wondered if he passed out. “My body is yours…”

You huffed, uncrossed your arms, and tried to pull him out of your bed by pulling on one of his arms, but he was too heavy, and not even in the slightest controlling his weight to help you. You don't even think it's out of pettiness, just drunkness.

“Shut up and get out of here.” You rolled your eyes.

“I’m not perfect… I’m not the best you could get… But I want you… You can…” His face was planted in your mattress, causing his Voice to come out muffled. “Gimme a chance… You're hot…”

“Tsk.”

“But not only that…” Rex turned his head to the side to look at you, looking more awake now, just a little. “You're way, waaayyy out of my league… You're smart and… A-And great…” He blinked slowly. His face was squished against the mattress, causing his full lips to pout, while he stared almost dreamily at you. “Y-You asked me… T-That day… You asked me why I never hit on you… You came straight out of my dreams… And I… I didn't want to get rejected…” He groaned, closed his eyes, and scrunched his face, as if having a bad memory, or a migraine. You hoped he wasn't getting sick. “But then w-we had sex… And it was fucking amazing!” He blew a raspberry. “Just to reject me later.” He sighed deeply.

“And?” You rolled your eyes.

At this point, you just gave up on lifting him for now, and sat down next to his torso on the bed, wondering how to convince him to fuck off out of your room

Sitting down proved to be a bad idea when he inched closer to lay his head on your lap, nuzzling your thighs.

“Don't run from me, baby… I know I’m an idiot… But I’m trying my best to change… Taking constructive criticism and… Respecting opinions… And all…” He left a delicate, barely there, but reverent nonetheless, kiss on your thigh. “And you deserve only the best… Of the best…” He sniffed. “D-Don’t go for a dick l-like Immortal…” Rex lightly nibbled on your flesh, on the same place he left that peck, so delicately that he was basically running his teeth along your skin. “You deserve someone like Mark… And I’m trying to be more like him…” He pouted and frowned as if you had given him an answer he didn't like, but his eyes were still closed. “One chance… Just… You deserve to be loved… You're… The exact opposite of the old me and everything I did… I never wanted to hurt you with that… You're… A constant… You're… Safe… You're… Reliable… You're just… Genuine, and special like that…”

He fell silent suddenly, and you sighed, not really sure which course of action you should take, and even thinking he fell asleep. Until he spoke again, spooking you even.

“Just because it didn't happen yet… Doesn't mean you can't be loved…” He slowly cracked his eyelids open and, with great effort to balance his head, looked up at you. “Please baby, don't say something like that again, it's just… Not true… And I’m gonna… Beat anyone who made you think that…” You let out a weak, wet laugh you didn't even know was on your throat, and swallowed, suddenly finding yourself emotional, while amused, just because of his last words. He looked like a puppy, looking up at you like that. Damn pretty boys. “I know you're lonely… I’m lonely too… We can be… Lonely together… Or whatever cliche shit people say to something like that…” He closed his eyes again, and nuzzled his face on your skin once again, seemingly satisfied to stay there.

Rex let out a soft, happy hum, when you, hesitantly, lifted your hand from the mattress to his mess of red hair, and started rubbing your fingernails against his sensitive scalp without damaging his bun. Sending tingles through his nerves and warming his insides more than the heat from his explosions ever could.

“Rex…”

“Let's just try… Please… If it doesn't work out, that's okay… But… We’re both… Tired of being alone…” You felt your eyes sting. “I know I’m an idiot… But we have to… Try…”

You felt the moment he actually fell asleep, dozing off on your lap, leaving the both of you in a literal and metaphorical uncomfortable position, that would surely leave you regret and pain the next day.

But as you looked down at him, it was just like that day again. Dark and uncomfortable. You feeling desperate while focusing on his stupidly handsome face, with his tan skin, aquiline nose, messy red hair, full lips, dimpled chin, thick eyebrows and long lashes. Part of you wished he would just open his eyelids and look at you with those innocent, sad green orbs again.

And just like that day, you decided to give him a chance.

Like, comment and reblog 🥰

[tangents-within-tangents]

Echo canonically being sentimental (and a sweetheart)

With his armor, there's also the "For Hevy" memorial, the fact he kept Rex's handprint, and that he put the Bad Batch skull on his armor before he even joined them

Echo holding 99 as he died has always stuck out to me as one of the saddest/sweetest things in TCW (especially since the show rarely actually shows clones mourning/expressing much emotion)

I also noticed that Echo is often the one to mention his brothers by name, and make sure they're remembered. And of course his entire thing about saving his brothers and leaving no one behind. (Also that he turned the call signs into this like nickname/inside joke thing with Omega is so adorable to me ahh)

--

And then there's whatever this is:

Not even a reaction to the name (and we know they are good at implying expression under those helmets)! I know this is old news but it bears saying lol. They had the perfect opportunity here to not only address Echo's loss, but also to honor Fives and the sacrifice he made to discover the chips. A sacrifice which saved Ahsoka, Rex, and now the Bad Batch. This is obviously not the first time Echo and Rex talked about Fives, he knows he's dead (I firmly believe he would not have left the 501st if Fives was still alive), but come on! This did the bare minimum to check the box of 'mention Fives.' How about you cut Wrecker getting attacked by a sarlacc or whatever and give that screen time to show us an actual conversation?

Like I found this bit in an interview:

While the conversation obviously never happened onscreen, Corbett says that doesn't mean it never happened, suggesting the two talked offscreen, saying "For Fives, I imagine that Rex and Echo had that conversation after he was rescued off of Skako Minor, and I know in Season 1 we did have Rex reference Fives on Bracca," adding "So, in my headcanon, they've had many conversations about Fives."

And I'm just like... Jennifer! You don't have to have headcanons, you are literally the writer! Show us!!

(Also he should have gotten his handprint again no I will never let this go)

[littlelamy]

Hii! I love your writing. Do you think you could write one where Rafe is a single father of a 4-year-old son and he meets a reader, and then they start a relationship and she meets his son and well, they start being a family? I'd love something like that, thank youuuuu

lamy's note: sorry that this is so late! i hope you like it <3

rafe cameron’s life revolved around his four-year-old son, oliver. The little boy was his entire world, a bright spot in the sometimes chaotic life of a single father. mornings were a blur of packing lunches and tying shoelaces, evenings a mix of storytime and sleepy cuddles. it was a rhythm rafe had gotten used to, even if it left little time for himself.

one rainy afternoon, rafe and oliver ducked into a cozy little café to escape the downpour. oliver clutched his favorite dinosaur toy, his small hand wrapped tightly around rafe's fingers. the warm atmosphere welcomed them, the smell of fresh coffee and pastries wrapping around them like a comforting hug. they found a table near the window, where oliver could watch the raindrops race down the glass.

as rafe settled into his seat, his eyes drifted across the room and landed on you. you were seated a few tables away, engrossed in a book, your fingers playing absently with your hair. there was something about you—maybe the peaceful way you seemed lost in your own world—that caught his attention. it had been a long time since he had felt that pull, the quiet intrigue of wanting to know someone.

oliver’s voice pulled him back. "daddy, can I have a cookie?"

"after lunch, buddy," rafe replied, ruffling his son’s hair. "let’s get something to eat first."

when the barista brought their sandwiches and a small cookie for oliver, rafe took the chance to glance your way again. to his surprise, you were looking back, a soft smile on your lips. it was enough to stir something inside him, a quiet encouragement to make a move he hadn’t considered in a long while.

gathering his nerve, rafe stood and walked over to your table, oliver trailing behind him. “hi,” he said, his voice warm but a bit unsure. “do you mind if we sit here? my son has a lot to say about dinosaurs, and i’d love a little adult conversation.”

your smile widened as you nodded. “of course. I could use some dinosaur facts myself.”

as rafe and oliver settled into seats across from you, the conversation flowed easily. rafe learned that you were new in town, working as a teacher at the local elementary school. you asked about his work and how he managed to juggle everything as a single parent. there was a natural chemistry, an ease in the way you spoke, the laughter that bubbled up between shared stories.

oliver, ever the chatterbox, quickly took a liking to you. he proudly showed off his toy, launching into an animated explanation of why the t-rex was the king of dinosaurs. you listened with genuine interest, your enthusiasm making oliver beam with pride.

by the time the rain had stopped, it felt as though you’d known each other much longer than just a single afternoon. before you left, rafe asked for your number, a hopeful gleam in his eyes. “maybe we could do this again sometime? without the rain.”

you agreed, your heart fluttering at the prospect.

in the weeks that followed, the two of you saw more of each other. rafe would pick you up after work, oliver bouncing in the back seat, eager to share his day. dinners turned into outings at the park, where oliver’s giggles echoed through the playground, rafe's hand finding yours as you watched him play. the three of you fit together seamlessly, like a puzzle you hadn’t known was missing a piece.

one evening, after oliver had been tucked into bed, rafe invited you to stay for a late-night movie. the living room was cozy, the soft glow of the tv casting shadows on the walls. you sat close, the warmth of his arm around your shoulders, the quiet intimacy of the moment stretching between you.

when the movie ended, neither of you moved, the silence filled with unspoken words. rafe turned to you, his eyes searching yours. "i've really missed this," he said softly. "having someone to share my life with. i'm glad it's with you"

you reached for his hand, threading your fingers through his. "me too."

the kiss that followed was tender, a slow, gentle meeting of lips that spoke of more than just attraction—it was a promise of what could be. as you leaned into him, the weight of loneliness lifted, replaced by the warmth of a growing love.

in the months that followed, you became a part of their lives in every way. weekends were spent building blanket forts with oliver, evenings filled with quiet moments on the couch, your laughter mingling with rafe’s as you recounted the day’s events.

the day oliver called you "mommy" for the first time, your heart swelled with emotion. rafe squeezed your hand, his eyes shining with gratitude and love.

you were no longer just a visitor in their lives. you were family, a bond formed through shared moments, love, and the quiet understanding that together, you had built something beautiful.

taglist: @namelesslosers @maybanksangel @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @rafesheaven @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog @slavicangelmuah @alivinggirl @rafesbabygirlx

[tattycoram]

Rex: Does anyone have a lighter? Echo: No, I don't smoke Fives: I have one Rex: Thanks Fives: I don't smoke either I just like setting stuff on fire Rex: Of course you do

[pandapetals]

sunlight & sawdust

epilogue

previous chapter

summary: For two years, Joel Miller has done nothing but scowl at you from across the room, barely tolerating your warmth, your kindness, and your ever-present sunshine. And for two years, you’ve told yourself his gruffness doesn’t bother you—that his clipped words and cold stares don’t matter.But then, out of nowhere, he offers to fix the damaged floor in your flower shop.For free.Suddenly, the man who could barely stand to look at you is showing up every day, fixing things that don’t need fixing, sharing quiet lunches, and—most shocking of all—getting along with Ellie, your daughter, who has never warmed up to anyone as quickly as she has to him.

pairing: joel miller x fem!single mom reader - no outbreak/au

content warnings: slight reader description, no y/n used, grumpy joel, grumpy x sunshine trope, ellie is reader's daughter, reader is a single mom, tommy being a meddler, reader is friends with tommy, au setting in Austin, joel is a carpenter, reader owns a flower shop, fluff, angst, and eventual smut, joel is bad at feelings, sarah mentioned

a/n: divider by @saradika-graphics. Alright, well. I’m crying because this is the end. I am so grateful for all the love and support.

Two months later…

Life had settled into something easy, something Joel never thought he’d have again.

It was in the small moments that snuck up on him when he wasn’t looking.

Stopping by your flower shop on his lunch breaks—not because he needed anything, but just to see you. To sit with you, sharing sandwiches wrapped in paper, listening to you talk about your day while he worked through a cup of coffee. Sometimes, Ellie would be there, her little feet swinging from the counter as she carefully arranged flowers, pausing only to ask Joel if dinosaurs would’ve liked flowers, too.

Joel never had an answer, but Ellie would always supply one, giggling as she made up some wild story about T-Rexes sniffing roses.

Most evenings, he’d end up at your place, easing into the rhythm of your life like he’d always been there.

Ellie had a habit of finding him the second he walked through the door, dragging him to the couch with a book already in hand.

She had favorites, of course—books about dinosaurs or space. Joel had read them all a dozen times over, but every time she looked up at him, wide-eyed, hanging onto every word, he’d start from the beginning like it was brand new.

More often than not, she’d fall asleep right there, tucked into his side, small fingers curled into his shirt. And every time, without fail, you’d appear in the doorway, arms crossed, a soft smile on your face.

"You spoil her, you know," you’d tease in a whisper, watching as he carefully shifted, lifting Ellie into his arms and carrying her to bed.

Joel would smirk, brushing a piece of hair from Ellie’s face as she settled into her pillow. "Ain’t spoilin’ her if she deserves it."

Then, it would be just the two of you, curling up in bed, his body solid and warm against yours.

You had a habit of playing with his hair, running soft fingers over his skin, and tracing patterns over his chest until his breath evened out. Then, he drifted to sleep with you safely tucked against him.

Sometimes, he’d wake in the middle of the night, feeling the gentle weight of your arm draped over him, the steady rise and fall of your breath.

Sometimes, that old familiar ache crept in—the guilt, the shadow of before. The thought was that maybe he didn’t deserve this, but then, he’d see you in the morning light, hair messy, eyes soft with sleep as you handed him a cup of coffee with a knowing smile.

Or he’d hear Ellie giggling as she ran through the house, telling him some nonsense story, looking at him like she’d known him her whole life.

And that ache, that gnawing feeling—it was replaced by something else.

By the echo of Sarah’s voice in the back of his mind.

It’s okay, Dad. You deserve to be happy.

So Joel believed it.

He hadn’t planned on letting himself have this. Hadn’t planned on getting too close, but then there was you and Ellie. You both ran to him without hesitation, seeking comfort, trusting him in a way he hadn’t felt in years. You had opened your life up to him, let him in, given him a place to belong again, and Joel couldn’t shut himself off.

Not when you had been so unwaveringly open with him. Not when Ellie beamed at him like he hung the damn moon, curling up at his side like it was the safest place in the world. Not when you looked at him like he mattered.

One night, as you lay together in bed, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting golden light across the room, you had turned to him, voice barely above a whisper.

“I was scared.”

Joel had frowned, shifting to face you fully, his hand instinctively reaching for yours.

You blinked quickly, your lashes wet, a sad smile tugging at your lips. "When I first had Ellie. When it was just me, I was terrified of being a single mom. Of screwing her up. Of not being enough."

Joel felt his chest tighten, his heart ache at the raw honesty in your voice.

You swallowed, your fingers gripping his a little tighter. “I never thought I’d have this. Have you.”

Joel exhaled sharply, his grip on you firm but gentle, grounding. The vulnerability in your eyes and the quiet confession of fear wrecked him because he knew that feeling.

He knew what it was to worry that you weren’t enough.

He reached for you, pulling you against him and holding you close. His lips pressed a slow, lingering kiss on your forehead.

"I got you, sweetheart," he murmured against your skin. "You ain't gotta be scared anymore."

Your breath hitched, and Joel felt the way you melted into him and trusted him to hold not just your body but your heart.

His arms tightened around you like some part of him knew he needed to hold on, like if he let go, you might slip right through his fingers.

You exhaled softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "It’s like we were made for each other."

Joel went still. The words wrecked him. More than when you’d first told him you loved him. More than anything else you’d ever said. Because you meant it.

His hand kept moving against your back, slow, steady circles, grounding himself as the weight of that realization settled deep in his chest.

He needed you. Ellie. This life and the thought of ever losing it. His heart clenched, a sharp, quiet panic threading through his ribs.

It scared him—more than he’d ever admit.

Then you shifted against him, pressing your face into the crook of his neck and letting out a small, contented sigh. Your fingers traced absent-minded shapes against his chest, warm and familiar, like you belonged there, like you always had.

Suddenly, the fear didn’t seem so big.

Joel let out a slow breath, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering there.

"Yeah, sweetheart," he murmured, voice rough with tenderness. “We were.”

____________

You had been with Joel for a few months, though it felt like forever. Life had a way of slipping into place so naturally, so effortlessly, with him that you barely remembered what it had been like before.

Everything was simple.

It was not always easy—because nothing with Joel came easy—but simple in the way that mattered. The way he made space for you in his life. The way you fit into it, like you had always belonged there.

But Joel still had his moments.

The nights he’d go quiet, his eyes distant, walls creeping back up before he realized he was doing it. Old habits were hard to break.

You knew that. So you didn’t push. Didn’t demand. Didn’t pry open the doors, he wasn’t ready to unlock. You just waited.

And slowly, he let you in.

You had been to Joel’s house a handful of times, but you had never stayed the night. Not because you didn’t want to, but because it was easier for Joel to stay at your place.

That was where Ellie’s books were stacked in a crooked pile by the couch, where her favorite stuffed giraffe sat waiting for her on her pillow.

That was where she felt safe, and Joel would never take that from her.

However, tonight was different.

Your mother had come into town and, much to your surprise, offered to watch Ellie for the night. You had hesitated at first—because as much as you wanted a night alone with Joel, it was hard to leave Ellie behind—but the opportunity was too good to pass up.

So here you were, standing on Joel’s front porch, a bottle of whiskey in one hand and his favorite western film in the other.

His brows lifted when he opened the door, amusement flickering in his deep brown eyes.

“Darlin’,” he drawled, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Ain’t I supposed to be spoilin’ you?”

You gave him a pointed look before brushing past him into the house. “Don’t start, handsome. My mom’s in town, and I wanted to see you.”

You paused just long enough to let the words settle before adding something softer and more honest. “I missed you.”

Joel shut the door behind you, following you into the living room with slow, deliberate steps. “We just saw each other yesterday,” he teased, though there was a warmth in his voice, in the way his lips quirked up like he liked hearing it.

You rolled your eyes, but before you could respond, his arms wrapped around your waist from behind, pulling you flush against him. His body was warm, solid, and when he dipped his head, his lips skimmed the edge of your jaw.

“Missed me that much, huh?”

You exhaled a laugh, tilting your head slightly to give him better access. “You really wanna act like you didn’t miss me, too?”

Joel huffed, his breath hot against your skin. “Didn’t say that.”

“Mm-hmm.” You smirked, glancing at him over your shoulder. “Just admit it, Miller. You were lonely without me.”

Joel turned you in his arms, his eyes darkening just a bit as he studied you. “That's what you wanna hear?”

Your heart fluttered.

His hands slid lower, settling on the small of your back as he leaned in. His voice dropped to a slow, rough whisper. “Yeah, I missed you, too.”

"I figured so," you murmured, your fingers trailing along the bridge of his nose, then down to his jaw, memorizing every rough edge and smooth plane.

Joel's eyes fluttered closed momentarily, his expression softening under your touch. But when he opened them again, something knowing was in them, like he could already tell where your thoughts were headed.

"Sweetheart," he said, voice low, a hint of a warning in it. "Don't start all that."

You grinned, tilting your head as your fingers slid into his hair, nails grazing lightly against his scalp. "Start what?"

Joel huffed, the ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips. "You know what."

Feigning innocence, you pressed closer, standing on your toes to brush your lips against his. "I just missed you, that’s all."

Joel let out a low chuckle, his hands tightening at your waist for a fleeting second like he was tempted—before he pulled back, shaking his head.

“Darlin’, if you wanna eat sometime tonight, we should start cookin’ before you go distractin’ me with those lips.”

You groaned dramatically, letting your forehead fall against his chest. “Ugh, Joel, c’mon. I came over here with whiskey and a movie, and you’re making me wait?”

His chest rumbled with laughter. “Ain’t makin’ you do nothin’.”

You lifted your head, narrowing your eyes at him playfully. “Fine,” you relented, sighing like it was the biggest inconvenience in the world. “We’ll cook first. Then you can make it up to me.”

Joel chuckled, brushing a kiss against your forehead before stepping back and nodding toward the kitchen. “Atta girl. Now, you gonna help me, or you just gonna sit back and look pretty?”

You shot him a grin. “Can’t I do both?”

He shook his head, smirking as he grabbed your hand and pulled you toward the kitchen.

____________

The movie dragged on. It was a slow, dusty western that Joel was entirely absorbed in, but you? Not so much.

Your attention drifted, first to his lack of home decor—plain walls, minimal furniture, everything practical, nothing decorative. The most personal thing in the whole place was a coffee ring stain on his side table.

Then your focus shifted to something far more interesting. Him.

God, he was handsome even though he didn’t seem to think so. Even though he always scoffed whenever you told him. That dark brown hair, the streaks of silver at his temples. The firm curve of his jaw, the way his broad shoulders stretched against his worn-out t-shirt. And his eyes—those eyes—warm and deep, like aged whiskey, catching the flickering glow of the TV.

“You’re starin’, darlin’,” Joel muttered, not looking away from the screen.

You smirked, shifting closer to him on the couch, pulling your legs up to curl beside you. “Maybe I just like what I see.”

He let out a low grunt, still watching the screen. “Movie’s on, sweetheart.”

“I noticed,” you teased, resting your chin on his shoulder, deliberately pressing closer so he could feel your warmth against him. “But this is so boring.”

Joel exhaled a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “Boring? This is a classic.”

“Hate to break it to you, handsome, but it’s just a bunch of cowboys staring at each other dramatically.”

“That’s called tension.”

“That’s called bad pacing,” you countered, letting your lips brush against his neck, just enough to make his breath hitch. “Know what’s not boring, though?”

Joel turned his head slightly, finally meeting your gaze. His eyes were darker now, his jaw tense like he was fighting the pull of you. “What’s that?”

You swung a leg over his lap, straddling him with a playful smirk. “This.”

Joel let out a slow, controlled exhale, his hands automatically finding your hips. “Now, darlin’, I thought we were watchin’ a movie.”

Your fingers toyed with the collar of his shirt, dragging along the exposed skin of his chest. “I changed my mind.”

Joel swallowed hard, his grip tightening just a little. “That right?”

You leaned in, lips barely brushing his, your voice dropping to a whisper. “Mhm. I think we should find something else to do.”

Joel’s smirk deepened as he traced his thumbs slowly over your hips. “You know, sweetheart, you’re makin’ me think you only came over here to get laid.”

You smiled against his lips, your fingers skimming up the nape of his neck, toying with the curls there. “Maybe I did,” you murmured, teasingly kissing his jaw. “Can you blame me?”

Joel sucked in a slow breath through his nose, his grip tightening.

“Don’t tell me you’re not into it,” you continued, shifting slightly in his lap, feeling the proof that he definitely was. “Because I can just—” You started to move off him, feigning innocence.

Joel didn’t let you get far. His hands clamped down on your hips, keeping you firmly in place. “Oh, no you don’t,” he rasped, voice dropping to that low, rough drawl that sent shivers down your spine. “I’m just tryin’ to be a gentleman, honey. But if I had it my way, you wouldn’t have made it through the door without me takin’ you on the floor.”

Heat flared in your stomach; your thighs squeezed around him. “That so?”

Joel tilted his head, his lips ghosting over yours, teasing, torturously slow. “Mhm. Think about it, darlin’. Door barely closed behind you, and I’d have you up against it—” His hands slid lower, gripping the backs of your thighs, pressing you closer until there was no space left between you. “Dress bunched up, legs wrapped around me—”

A quiet gasp slipped from your lips as he rolled his hips up into yours, slow but firm, dragging friction exactly where you needed it.

“Or maybe the couch,” he continued, voice like gravel, his mouth skimming along your jaw, down your throat. “Could’ve had you right here, ride me slow while that goddamn movie plays in the background.”

Your nails dug into his shoulders. “Joel.”

He hummed in satisfaction at your voice's breathlessness and how you were already unraveling just from his words.

He leaned back slightly, dragging his lips just out of reach, the hint of a smirk still playing at them.

“Still wanna tease me about my movies, darlin’?”

You grinned, brushing your nose against Joel’s, your lips barely grazing his. “I’ll always tease, handsome.”

Joel huffed out a low chuckle, shaking his head, but his hands told a different story—gripping your ass with a firm squeeze that had you gasping. A squeal of surprise slipped from you before he swallowed it with a kiss, deep and possessive.

“Maybe I oughta teach you some damn manners,” he murmured against your lips, voice thick with amusement but there was a roughness beneath it, a promise.

A delicious shiver ran down your spine. His words sent a spark straight between your thighs.

“Wait—” You barely had time to catch your breath before Joel’s hands gripped your hips, flipping you effortlessly onto your back. You landed against the couch with a soft thud, blinking up at him, breathless, dazed.

He didn’t waste a second. His mouth was on you before you could form another word, trailing slow, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, sucking gently at the sensitive skin just below your ear.

“Still feel like teasin’?” he drawled, voice rough as his lips traveled lower, over the neckline of your dress.

You exhaled sharply, arching into him. “Maybe,” you whispered, just to push his buttons.

Joel groaned, shaking his head like you were impossible, but the way his hands started working your dress higher, gathering the fabric in deliberate strokes, told you he was more than happy to take on the challenge.

He pushed the material up past your thighs, his fingers tracing feather-light over the tops of your stockings, before dipping lower, to where you were already warm and aching for him.

A pleased hum rumbled in his chest as he hooked his fingers under the band of your underwear, dragging them down inch by agonizing inch. “Damn, sweetheart,” he murmured, pulling his knuckles along the inside of your thigh. “Already so wet for me?”

Heat flared in your cheeks, but you refused to look away, to let the weight of his gaze fluster you. “Told you I missed you,” you teased, voice barely above a whisper.

Joel exhaled sharply through his nose, something dark flickering behind his eyes, before he leaned in close, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“Then let me make up for lost time.”

With a swift tug, Joel pulled your underwear down your legs and tossed them behind him, not giving a damn where they landed. His rough hands gripped your thighs, spreading them wide, exposing every slick inch of you to his hungry gaze.

A deep groan rumbled in his chest, his dark eyes locked onto you like you were the only thing that mattered. He dragged his bottom lip between his teeth, his breath heavy and uneven. “Look at you,” he muttered, voice thick with want. “So damn pretty, honey.”

The warmth of his breath against your bare skin sent a shiver rippling through you. Your head fell back against the couch, anticipation building so fast it made you dizzy.

“Joel,” you whined, lifting your hips slightly, searching for friction, for relief. “Please.”

He hummed in amusement, his hands pressing firmly against your thighs to hold you still. “Always so needy for me, huh?” He leaned in, his nose grazing your inner thigh, his lips brushing featherlight over your skin, making you squirm. “You don’t gotta beg, sweetheart. I’ll always give you what you need.”

Then, finally, his mouth was on you.

A sharp gasp tore from your lips as he wrapped them around your clit, sucking gently, teasing you with deliberate flicks of his tongue. A strangled moan followed, your fingers flying to his hair, tangling in the thick strands as heat coiled tight in your belly.

Joel groaned against you, the sound vibrating through every inch of your body. He licked into you, slow at first, savoring every little twitch, every desperate noise that spilled from your lips.

“Fuck,” he murmured between strokes of his tongue, voice rough, wrecked. “Tastes so goddamn sweet.”

Your body arched, chasing more, needing more, but Joel kept you pinned, entirely at his mercy. “Patience, darlin’,” he drawled, his fingers digging into your thighs. “Ain’t lettin’ you go till I’ve had my fill.”

Your moans filled the dimly lit room, each one sweeter than the last as your fingers twisted in Joel’s hair, tugging desperately. You knew he loved this—loved tasting you, loved wrecking you with nothing but his mouth and hands until you were trembling beneath him.

His tongue dragged slow and purposeful over your clit before he sealed his lips around it, sucking just hard enough to make your whole body jolt. A broken cry left your throat, your hips lifting, but Joel’s hands pressed you right back down, keeping you exactly where he wanted you.

“That’s it, honey,” he rasped against you, the heat of his breath making you shudder. “Take it. Let me hear you.”

He slipped two thick fingers inside you, the stretch making your breath hitch, your walls clenching around him. He worked you open, pumping them slow, curling just right, his lips never leaving your clit.

Your back arched off the couch, your thighs trembling around his head. “Oh, yes—fuck, Joel.”

He groaned at the way you said his name, the deep vibration shooting straight through you. His free hand slid up your stomach, splaying against your hip, holding you steady as he sped up, fucking you with his fingers while his tongue teased mercilessly.

You tugged harder at his hair, your legs threatening to snap shut around his head, but Joel only growled, his grip tightening. “Ain’t goin’ nowhere, sweetheart,” he muttered, voice thick with hunger. “Not till I feel you come all over my tongue.”

Your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, your body shaking beneath Joel as he lapped up every drop of your release. You gasped, a sharp cry escaping as your walls pulsed around his fingers, pleasure rolling through you in waves. But Joel didn’t stop.

He groaned into you, the sound low and rough, his tongue still flicking against your clit, his fingers still thrusting deep. Your body twitched, overstimulated, but he held you down, keeping you spread open for him.

“Joel—fuck, I—” You whimpered, tugging at his hair, trying to pull him away.

His grip on your thighs only tightened. “Just one more, gorgeous,” he murmured, the heat of his breath making you shudder. “Be a good girl for me.”

A helpless moan slipped from your lips as his fingers curled just right inside you, dragging against that perfect spot. He knew your body too well now—knew exactly how to push you past your limits. He flattened his tongue against your clit, sucking softly before flicking it just how you liked, coaxing you right back up to the edge.

Your breath hitched. Your thighs trembled. That unbearable pressure coiled in your belly all over again, impossibly fast.

“That’s it,” Joel rasped, voice dripping with pride as he felt your walls clench around his fingers. “Knew you had another one in you.”

A sharp cry tore from your throat as pleasure hit you again, your back arching off the couch. Your fingers twisted tighter in his hair, your whole body tensing before you shattered, your second orgasm ripping through you just as fiercely as the first.

Joel groaned against you, drinking in your pleasure like a man starved, only pulling away when you whimpered, your body spent and trembling beneath him.

He pressed slow, lazy kisses to the inside of your thigh, his voice thick with satisfaction. “There you go. That’s my good girl.”

You sighed, boneless against the couch, a lazy, satisfied smile curling on your lips. “God, I don’t see how you’re so skilled.”

Joel smirked, wiping the corner of his mouth with his thumb before licking it clean. “God’s got nothin’ to do with it, sweetheart.”

You huffed a laugh, rolling your eyes as you swatted at his bicep. “Smartass.”

Joel caught your wrist before you could pull away, his grip firm but warm. “Mm, that's the thanks I get?” He leaned in, brushing his lips over yours, teasing but not quite kissing you yet. “Ain’t exactly fair, considerin’ I just had you fallin’ apart for me twice.”

Heat flushed through you again, but you refused to let him have the upper hand. You ran your fingers down his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath, the way his muscles tensed slightly under your touch. “Guess I’ll just have to return the favor, then,” you murmured, tilting your head, eyes flicking up to his with a challenge.

Joel’s smirk faltered briefly, his pupils darkening as he exhaled through his nose. “Now, darlin’, I was fixin’ to let you rest for a minute.”

You traced lazy circles over his stomach, slipping lower. “Who said I needed a break?”

His jaw ticked, his grip on your wrist tightening for a moment before he let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “You really are somethin’ else.”

“And you love it,” you quipped, grinning.

Joel sighed, feigning exasperation, but his smile gave him away. “Yeah, I do.” Then, in one swift move, he had you pinned beneath him again, his mouth finally capturing yours in a slow, deep kiss. “Now, how ‘bout you put that smart mouth to good use, huh?”

____________

The morning light filtered through the blinds, casting soft golden streaks across the bed. Joel slept soundly beside you, his arm draped over your waist, his breath slow and deep against your shoulder. He wasn’t a morning person—you had learned that early on. It took at least two cups of coffee and a solid ten minutes of grumbling before he was fully functional.

You smiled, taking a quiet moment just to admire him—the crease between his brows even in sleep, the way his lips were slightly parted, the warmth of his arm that, even now, instinctively tightened around you when you shifted.

Carefully, you eased out from under his arm, moving slowly so as not to wake him. You reached for the first thing you could find—Joel’s shirt from the night before—and slipped it on, the fabric draping over you like a second skin. Your underwear was kicked somewhere near the bed, so you stepped into them before padding out of the room, deciding you’d make him coffee. Maybe breakfast, if he had anything besides whiskey and canned soup in his pantry.

As you passed down the hall, one door caught your attention. It was cracked open just slightly.

Joel’s woodworking room.

He had shown it to you once in passing, never making a big deal, just a brief mention that he liked to carve. But you had seen how his hands lingered over his work and his voice softened when he spoke about it.

Pushing the door open a little more, you stepped inside. The scent of sawdust and varnish filled the space, and in the morning light, you could see the careful work he had put into the small figures on his workbench. Tiny animals, wooden stars, even a couple of intricate, half-finished pieces you couldn’t quite identify.

Your fingers traced over one of them, a small giraffe.

Ellie loved giraffes. A warm ache spread through your chest. Joel would never say it out loud, but he had made this for her.

As you glanced around, your eyes landed on a small set of drawers tucked into the corner of the room. You hesitated before pulling one open, half-expecting to find spare tools or scraps of wood. Instead, your breath hitched.

Photographs.

Some were newer—pictures of Ellie, a couple of you, and her at the shop that you hadn’t even known Joel had taken. But beneath those, slightly worn and curling at the edges, were older photos.

Sarah.

Your fingers hovered over one of the pictures, Joel grinning beside a teenage girl with warm brown eyes and the biggest smile. Another of her sitting on his shoulders, arms stretched out like she was flying. There was one of just her alone, a birthday cake in front of her, candles mid-flicker as she beamed at the camera.

Your chest tightened.

You had heard stories of Sarah and knew she had been Joel’s entire world before everything fell apart. He didn’t talk about her often, and you never pushed. But seeing these now—this quiet, tucked-away part of his life—made something in your throat tighten.

Your fingers traced over the edges of the photographs one last time before carefully placing them back, your heart still tight in your chest. But just as you started to close the drawer, something else caught your eye.

Ellie’s drawing.

The crayon-streaked paper stood out amongst the neatly stacked items, its colors vibrant against the worn wood. You picked it up gently, recognizing Ellie’s messy handwriting scrawled in the corner: “Thank you, Mr. Joel.”

A smile tugged at your lips.

The drawing was from months ago—before you and Joel had even started dating, back when he had stubbornly insisted on helping you fix the broken floorboards in your shop. You had protested, of course, but he had just grumbled something about "not lettin’ you break your damn neck" and got to work.

Joel had kept this?

Your chest ached at the thought. Ellie’s version of him was a near-perfect representation—the slightly messy hair, the ever-present green flannel, the scowl that somehow still held warmth.

You placed the drawing down carefully, but your gaze landed on something else beneath it as you did.

A book. No, the journal you had given Joel for his birthday.

You had thought it was a terrible gift at the time. The man was a walking barricade of emotions, locked up so tight it was a miracle he ever let anything slip through. He had been opening up more since you started dating, but you had never expected him actually to use the journal.

Your fingers hesitated over the leather cover, your pulse quickening.

This was private. You were already pushing boundaries by being here and going through things that Joel probably didn’t even realize you were seeing. You should put it back and walk away.

And yet…

Your hands moved before your mind could catch up.

The journal flipped open somewhere in the middle, and your breath caught in your throat—something pink, delicate, pressed between the pages.

A tulip.

Your tulip.

Tears pricked at your eyes as you carefully picked up the journal, running your fingers over the petals. It had been months, so long that you had almost forgotten. You had worn the flower in your hair that day at the diner. Ellie had insisted on it, and you had forgotten about it.

Joel had noticed.

He had always noticed.

Even back then—before the first kiss, before the quiet nights curled up in bed together, before you realized you loved him—Joel had already cared.

More than you had ever known.

You swallowed hard, pressing the flower gently back into place, closing the journal with the same care as if it were something sacred.

Softly, you closed the drawer, momentarily pressing your hand against the wood before leaving downstairs. The house was still, the early morning light filtering through the windows in golden slants. You moved on autopilot, filling the coffee pot, as the rich scent slowly filled the kitchen. You leaned against the counter, your mind still stuck on the quiet revelations from Joel’s woodworking room.

He had always cared.

Even before you had realized it and fallen so hopelessly in love with him, he had already been there—watching, noticing, keeping little pieces of you tucked away like treasures.

The thought sent a deep warmth through your chest.

When you reentered the bedroom, Joel stirred lightly, his arm stretching across the sheets, blindly reaching for you. His brows furrowed when his hand met nothing but empty space.

A soft smile tugged at your lips as you crawled back into bed, pressing against his warmth. A contented hum rumbled deep in his chest as he instinctively wrapped his arms around you, his grip tightening like he wouldn’t let you slip away again.

“Where’d you go?” His voice was thick with sleep, low and gravelly, the sound curling in your stomach.

You ran your fingers through his hair, kissing his forehead softly. “Just making sure you had coffee.”

A small grunt left him, but you caught how his lips twitched at the corners.

“Mm. You’re too good to me, darlin’.”

Your heart swelled—partly at his words, but mainly at the overwhelming realization that this man had always been yours, even before you knew it.

You curled closer, pressing a lingering kiss to his temple. “I love you so damn much,” you whispered, voice barely above a breath.

Joel’s eyes fluttered open at that, deep brown meeting yours, hazy with sleep but sharp with something knowing. “I love you, too, sweetheart.” His voice was soft, certain, and unwavering. He studied you momentarily, his thumb stroking absent-minded circles against your hip. “What’s goin’ on in that pretty head of yours?”

You shook your head, tracing his jawline with your fingertip. “I mean it,” you murmured, voice heavier now. “I love you.”

Joel exhaled through his nose, his expression shifting into something impossibly tender. He reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before letting his palm rest against your cheek.

“I know you do,” he said softly. “Just like I love you.”

You swallowed against the lump forming in your throat. He looked at you like you had given him something sacred, like you were something sacred.

Joel let out a small huff, shifting so he was propped up on one elbow. “Y’know…” He hesitated for a beat, a little smirk playing at his lips. “Been meanin’ to show you somethin’.”

You arched a brow, curiosity flickering in your chest. “Oh?”

Joel nodded toward the window, rubbing a slow hand down your back. “Out in the backyard. Was waitin’ for ‘em to bloom first, but… guess I could give you an early look.”

Your brows furrowed, but you allowed him to pull you from the bed, watching as he slipped his arms into his flannel before guiding you downstairs and out the back door.

The morning air was crisp, the soft hum of birds filling the quiet as Joel led you across the yard, right to a small patch of freshly turned soil near the fence.

Tulips.

Your breath hitched as you crouched down, fingertips hovering over the delicate petals just beginning to bloom—the same soft pink as the one you wore in your hair that day so many months ago.

You turned back to Joel, your heart lodged somewhere in your throat. He stood there, hands in his pockets, watching you with a quiet anticipation, like he wasn’t sure what you’d say.

“You grew these for me?” Your voice was barely above a whisper.

Joel shifted slightly on his feet, giving a slight nod. “Figured you got enough flowers at the shop,” he muttered. “But, uh… wanted you to have some here too.”

Emotion swelled in your chest so fast it nearly knocked the breath from your lungs.

You surged forward, throwing your arms around him, burying your face against his shoulder. Joel stumbled back a step before his arms wrapped around you, holding you just as tightly.

“Joel,” you choked out.

“I know, sweetheart,” he murmured against your hair. “I know.”

And he did.

He had always known.

[jellyfishsthings]

Lazy Days In

WARNINGS: sickenly cute and fluffy. Dad Spencer with his adorable family... tried to give the kids some some personality and being supportive of each others hobbies/interests

requests are open

The sun streamed through the kitchen window, casting dappled patterns across the table where a small mountain of Lego bricks, scattered drawings, and half-eaten toast coexisted in a chaotic harmony. Spencer Reid, a man whose intelligence rivaled his son’s towering Lego creations, stood at the sink, rinsing off a plate while humming a tune that was a mix of classical and some catchy children's song. 

“Hey, Spence,” you called from the living room, where the sound of clattering toys and giggles filled the air. “Can you bring me the—”

“Dinosaur?” he interrupted, a teasing lilt in his voice. He turned, a dish towel slung over his shoulder, his deep brown eyes sparkling with mischief. “Or should I get the princess crown for Diana?”

You chuckled, glancing over your shoulder to see your oldest, Diana, spinning in circles with a sparkly tiara atop her head. “Definitely the crown for our little princess,” you replied, grinning.

“Got it!” He finished rinsing the plate and walked over, his long legs making quick work of the distance. He plopped the crown onto Diana’s head with a flourish. “Your Highness, may I present your royal Lego castle?” 

Diana clapped her hands, a high-pitched squeal escaping her lips. “Yay! Daddy, you’re the best!” 

“Not as good as your mother, of course,” he added, winking at you.

Your heart swelled. Spencer wasn’t just a brilliant mind; he was the kind of dad who made every day feel like magic. “Okay, King Spencer, time to get our little dinosaurs wrangled. Avery needs some attention before she turns into a T-Rex herself.”

With a laugh, Spencer moved to the playpen in the corner of the room, where Avery, their youngest, was propped up with a plush dinosaur. She babbled happily, her round cheeks squished against the soft fabric. “Rawr!” she squealed, waving her tiny arms.

“Look, everyone!” Spencer exclaimed, crouching down to Avery’s level. “We have a fierce dinosaur here! What do we do when a dinosaur is loose in the house?”

“Run!” shouted Gideon, your five-year-old, who was currently building a fortress of Legos, his dark hair falling into his eyes.

“Or feed it!” Diana added, twirling again, her tiara sparkling in the sunlight.

“Excellent ideas!” Spencer said, pretending to look worried. “But I think we should feed it some very special food.” He picked up a rubber dinosaur from Avery’s playpen and held it up dramatically. “How about this? A delicious, squishy, organic dino!”

Gideon burst into laughter, a sound that always warms your heart. “Dad, that’s not real food!”

“Are you sure?” Spencer asked, giving the dinosaur a thoughtful look. “It’s a very nutritious rubber dinosaur. Packed with vitamins!” 

The laughter in the room was infectious, echoing off the walls of your cozy home. You couldn't help but join in, your laughter mingling with the children's joyful noises. 

“Okay, how about we feed Avery some actual food instead?” you suggested, wiping tears of mirth from your eyes. “Spencer, you take care of that while I get lunch ready?”

“Sure! Avery, what do you say to a feast fit for a dinosaur?” Spencer said, reaching into the fridge for some mashed bananas, the perfect dino snack.

With Avery happily munching and your other children immersed in their games, you slipped into the kitchen, the familiar scent of peanut butter and jelly filling the air. As you spread the sticky substance on bread, you glanced back at Spencer. He was making silly faces at Avery, who was giggling and smearing bananas across her tiny mouth.

“Mommy!” Diana cried, her voice cutting through the lighthearted chaos. “Can we have a royal picnic after lunch?”

“A picnic?” you echoed, pausing mid-spread. “What a wonderful idea! We can set up blankets in the backyard!”

“Can we have dinosaurs and Legos at the picnic?” Gideon asked, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Of course! We can have a dinosaur picnic!” you agreed, grinning at their enthusiasm. 

“Rawr!” Avery squealed again, her little hands reaching for more bananas.

“Rawr!” Spencer echoed, making her laugh once more. “I think we have a dino expert right here!”

“Dino expert!” Avery repeated, clapping her hands together.

After lunch, you all gathered supplies for the picnic. The kids raced around the house, gathering their favorite toys, while Spencer and you laid out blankets in the sun-drenched yard. The backyard was your little paradise, with colorful flowers blooming, their sweet fragrance wafting through the air, and the sound of birds chirping in the trees.

“Okay, everyone! Are we ready for the royal dino picnic?” you announced, spreading the blankets out under a large oak tree.

“Yay!” The kids cheered in unison, their voices ringing out like a chorus of joy.

As you settled down, Diana arranged her princess dolls next to Avery’s dinosaurs, while Gideon built a Lego fortress to protect them all from imaginary storms. In a matter of moments, laughter filled the air as they played their games, and you took a moment to just watch, heart full.

Spencer laid back on the blanket beside you, his head resting on his hands, a soft smile on his face. “This is nice,” he said, glancing over at you. 

“It really is,” you agreed, leaning back on your elbows. 

“Do you think we could do this every weekend?” he asked, his tone casual but laced with sincerity.

“Every weekend sounds perfect,” you said, your heart fluttering at the thought of endless afternoons like this.

Spencer turned his head, propping himself up on one elbow to look at you more intently. “You know, I’ve been thinking…” 

“Uhoh. That usually means trouble,” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “No, really. I mean, we’ve been so happy with the kids, and I know we’ve talked about it before…”

“What?” you prompted, curiosity piqued. 

“Having another baby,” he said, his voice lowering slightly as if he were revealing a secret.

Your heart raced. “You want to have another baby?” 

“Yeah,” he said, his gaze earnest. “I mean, if you’re okay with it. I’d love to have as many kids as you want. As many as you can give me.”

“Spencer, that’s a big decision,” you replied, feeling a mixture of excitement and hesitation. “We already have four!”

“I know,” he said, his voice softening. “But look at these three. They’re amazing, and I love being a dad. I could do this forever.” 

You smiled, imagining another little one crawling around the house, adding to the beautiful chaos. “You really think we could handle another?”

“I think we could handle anything together,” he said, reaching for your hand, intertwining your fingers. 

Before you could respond, Gideon interrupted, his voice loud and filled with the seriousness only a five-year-old could muster. “But Daddy, you already ate like a dinosaur! You can’t eat another one!”

Spencer burst out laughing, the sound light and contagious. “I didn’t eat a dinosaur! I just had lunch!”

“Then how are you going to have another baby?” Diana chimed in, her brow furrowed in concentration. 

“Uh…” Spencer stammered, glancing at you for help.

You bit back a laugh, shaking your head. “It’s not about eating dinosaurs, sweetheart. It’s about love and family.”

“Oh!” Diana said, her face brightening. “So we can just love the baby?”

“Exactly!” you replied, beaming at her. 

Baby Victoria gurgled in agreement, her tiny hands reaching for Spencer's face, eager for attention as she roused from her nap.

“Does that mean we can have more toys?” Gideon asked, his eyes wide with hope.

“More toys and more love,” Spencer confirmed, his gaze lingering on you, warmth radiating from his expression.

“I want a sister who likes princesses,” Diana declared, her tone matter-of-fact. 

“And a brother who likes dinosaurs!” Gideon added quickly, nodding emphatically.

“Why not both?” Spencer suggested, a playful grin spreading across his face. “A little sister who’s a princess-dinosaur hybrid!”

“That’s silly!” Diana squealed, laughing. 

“Yeah! But also awesome!” Gideon chimed in, joining in the laughter.

You watched them, your heart swelling with love and laughter. The air around you buzzed with joy, and for a moment, everything felt perfect. 

“Okay, how about we make a deal?” you proposed, a playful glint in your eye. “If we have another baby, you two promise to help out and be the best big siblings ever?”

“Deal!” they shouted in unison, their excitement palpable.

As Spencer leaned in closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, you felt a wave of contentment wash over you. The idea of another child filled you with warmth, and the laughter of your children echoed in your mind like a sweet melody.

“Looks like we’ll have to start planning,” Spencer said, his voice low and teasing, his eyes sparkling.

“Planning? What do you mean?” you asked, feigning innocence.

“Well, I suppose we need to make sure I’m not eating dinosaurs anytime soon,” he shot back with a grin.

You burst into laughter, the sound mingling with the playful chaos of your children. “No more dinosaur snacks for you, then!”

“Rawr!” Spencer replied, mimicking a dinosaur once more, prompting another round of giggles from the kids.

As the sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting a golden hue across the yard, you knew that whatever the future held, you would face it together—one dinosaur, one princess, one Lego builder, and one tiny baby at a time.

[fuzzyenthusiastnelket01]

Not everyone can handle Hunter's (or the Batch's) osik.

Only special wired ori'vode ones like Rex

Giving him knives to get him to like you probably doesn't hurt...🤩🔪🗡

The Commanders handing Hunter over to Rex because they're tired of his osik...

Cody: Be careful, he's feral.

Wolffe: He's evil, actually. He bit Sinker.

Bly: He's crazy. He jumped off a cliff and my blood pressure was so high I had a stroke. And I only had him for a day.

Rex: *handing Hunter a new knife so he has a matching set* What, this adorable little skull-face? He's like four why do you guys hate him?

[curseddollfaye]

Imagine Gojo as a girl dad and his little twin comes home from school one day after a long day of preschool. Her white hair pulled up in two pig tails as she chatters your ear off when you pulled up home and unlock the front door. Your laugh muffled by your hand as you walk down the hall with your daughter skipping ahead of you.

“Papa! Guess what!” She yells as soon as she spots him in the kitchen, already preparing her favorite after school snack; Dino nuggets and ketchup

“Princess! Oh daddy missed you soooo much!” Your husband as dramatic as ever helps her remove her backpack and put her lunchbox to the side as he lifts her up and tosses her little body in the air. The kitchen echoing with the sounds of your daughter content with being in the safe arms of her father.

“What is it you want to tell me hmm?” He presses a big smack of a kiss to her forehead as he moves to fix her plate for her while she waits on the island counter. A cheeky smile on her face which scares you sometimes on how much it looks exactly like Gojo.

“Go ahead baby tell daddy what happened at school” You nonchalantly him fixing a pigtail.

Your daughters eyes sparkle as a plate of nuggets as ketchup is presented to her. Taking t-Rex shape and generously dipping it into her ketchup. “I’m getting married Papa” She says it so seriously it’s comical how Gojo’s brightened up face falls.

You swear you see the last of air escape his lungs, leaving the man breathless and stressed.

By a four year old.

“W-what? To who?!”

“Jack! He goes to my school Papa!” She laughs as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Of course she wanted a wedding just like the pictures her mama showed her from their family picture album.

“Well you can’t get married” You snort a laugh as he sends you a glare. How can you laugh at times like these? Your little girl is fixated on getting married to some bastard 4 year old who probably says the same thing to all the other little girls! That just won’t do.

“Im going to need to have a talk with him”

“No papa you can’t until the wedding! Oh by the way, I needs some monies” Gojo’s twin mumbles.

The act the same too You think watching the gears in Gojo’s head turn.

“Well you can’t get married” He shrugs

“Why?” your daughter frowns.

“Ah man you havent heard? They just ran out of weddings baby girl. Who knows when they’ll restock”

“Oh” his sweet baby frowns, he swears he sees her almost tear up but he quickly intervenes.

The next best thing next to a wedding.

“But daddy will take you out for some ice cream and buy another toy you can pick out! You wanted that new bluey toy this morning right? The one from the tv?”

“Satoru she just got that massive Barbie dream house delivered the other day she doesn’t need-“

“Yay!” Your daughter squeals and tosses herself into her fathers arms.

Problem solved for now , weddings are discontinued in your house until further notice…